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roanniom · 1 year

Note

the most persistent filthy thot i’ve been having lately is just being spit-roasted by steddie 😔

it’s the only thot in my head tbh

sorry issa

Cece. I’m DEAD. But also same.

Note: I wrote this - as if possessed - in an Uber, sitting in an airport, and then on a plane. I PAID FOR INFLIGHT WIFI TO FINISH THIS. Please enjoy and please comment or reblog with comments to tell me what you think ♥️

Come and Help

Steddie x Fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, PIV sex / unprotected sex, blow job / deep throating, threesome / spit roasting (lol), dirty dirty dirty talk

Eddie is fucking you from behind. You’re on your hands and knees on the bed, just getting absolutely railed. I’m talking everything jiggling, the sound of skin slapping wetly, his balls smacking into your clit every time he buries deep. You’re moaning so loud and Eddie chuckles behind you.

“You keep carrying on like that, Steve’s gonna hear you,” he warns. At the mention of your shared roommate, you clench down harder on his dick. It definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by Eddie, who hisses in response. “That what you want, Princess? Want Steve to hear you getting fucked open so good?”

You pant, dropping down to your elbows as you try to manage how overwhelmed the idea has made you. If you weren’t so far gone you’d deny it. But you’re gone. You’re lost in his words and his voice and how full he makes you feel so you nod.

“Y-yeah.”

Eddie laughs again, hands digging into the meat of your hips to slam you back on him harder this time.

“Yeah? That’s my slutty baby.” The dirty words are praise dripping from his mouth like honey, making you salivate. “Bet you’d want him to join us, huh?”

The moan you let out is pornographic and Eddie huffs in disbelief.

“Really? Want him to join us, Princess?”

“Want it, Eds,” you whimper pathetically. You’re past the point of self censorship. Eddie has teased you before about Steve, good naturedly pointing out how you fuck him with your eyes and flirt with him incessantly despite dating Eddie. You’ve teased Eddie back for getting turned on when Steve comes back from playing a pick up game of basketball, just a pair of tiny shorts, his shirt long since discarded, showing off his sweaty, hairy chest while gulping down water. You have both acknowledged your twisted shared attraction for your roommate, whispered through giggles in the dark of night. So Eddie bringing up Steve isn’t surprising.

But the next thing he says is.

“What if I told you that I talked to Steve and he wants to join us too?”

You stop breathing. That combined with the fact that Eddie brings his thrusting to a standstill makes everything feel like time has frozen.

You look over your shoulder back at Eddie to find him still clutching your hips. His chest heaves from the exertion of fucking you. A small smile on his lips.

“Want that pretty girl? Want Stevie to come and help me fuck you?”

You’re nodding emphatically before he finishes speaking.

“I…I want Steve to help you fuck me,” you reply softly. Shyness and shame swirl in your belly, exactly where Eddie had just been rearranging your guts. Eddie gives you a brilliant grin in response and slaps your ass lightly.

“I knew you would,” he says before cupping a hand over his mouth and calling out. “Harrington! Bring your dick in here!”

You cringe and laugh at Eddie’s choice of words and are surprised when the door immediately opens Steve walks in, a lopsided grin on his face.

“Took you guys long enough,” Steve huffs. Your eyes widen when you notice how massive his erection is in his sweatpants. He’d been outside the door listening.

“Had to get you a little worked up though, didn’t we?” Eddie hums. He pulls out of you slowly and you gasp at both the drag of his cock on the way out and at the sudden emptiness, crumpling a bit lower on the bed now that he’s no longer gripping your hips.

“I’m more than a little worked up, y’know?”

When you look back up you find Steve staring past you, his lips parted and jaw slightly slack. You glance over your shoulder to find Eddie up on his knees, stroking his cock which is wet with your slick. His other hand cups his balls and his gaze is hot and heavy. Watching Steve watch him.

Fuck.

You push up from the mattress then, rising up to your own knees for the first time since Eddie had first pushed you down and speared into you earlier. Steve’s eyes immediately fly to you. Taking in the thin tank top that’s skewed, almost fully exposing your breasts. You take the opportunity to strip it off, finally fully naked, and just as Steve’s eyes widen, you laugh and throw the garment at him. It lands draped over his fluffy head and obscuring his eyes, making him chuckle.

As he reaches to pull the tank top off his face, you turn and shuffle over to Eddie on your knees. You two make eye contact as your hands find him. Eddie’s eyes ask you silently - this still ok? You nod with a massive smile that makes him give you one of his own.

You wind your arms around his shoulders and begin kissing his neck, up to his sensitive ears. His hand speeds up on his cock, but he takes his other hand to squeeze one of your newly freed breasts appreciatively. You moan a little against his skin at the feeling.

“You guys are fucking hot,” Steve says suddenly, his voice hoarse. You both look back up at him and groan to find that he’s pulled his sweatpants down far enough to reveal his cock - massive and swollen and a needy pink - which he’s already fisting impatiently.

“So are you, big boy,” Eddie chuckles. You reach out a hand to Steve and Eddie continues. “But are gonna join us or are you just gonna watch? Because I have to start fucking someone again or I’m gonna bust.” Eddie bites your shoulder playfully when he says it and you notice Steve flush across his chest. He drops his sweatpants and boxers and clambers onto the bed, into your waiting arms.

It’s a flurry of motion at first. Almost like nobody knows who should touch who and where and how. You’re overwhelmed by the feeling of two sets of hands on you. Lips touch your neck and your back and your tits and your palms slide against hard planes of muscle and rounded edges and smooth skin.

Before you know it you’re sitting back on your heels with a hand on each of their hard cocks as they fight for dominance in the hottest kiss you’ve ever seen. Eddie’s tongue is in Steve’s mouth but his hand is in you, groping at every part he can reach. He settles on cupping your breast while Steve reaches out to grip your thigh.

It’s all so hot you can’t take it, but you still need more. When you swipe your thumbs over their weeping slits, the two men break away gasping.

“I want more,” you announce. Almost petulantly. It always works with Eddie, any kind of demands. He’s putty in your hands, so you’ve learned to ask for what you want. Eddie’s face crumbles in worry for a millisecond, afraid you feel like you’re being ignored, but you quirk the corner of your lip up to indicate that you’re definitely fine.

Steve’s the one to move forward first. He grabs you by the waist, pulling you into their bodies.

“Want us to focus on you, huh baby?” he asks.

“Yes please,” you say with a smile. Steve turns to Eddie with a grin.

“She always this cute at sweet?”

“No. She’s often a brat,” Eddie quips, giving your ass a quick slap. You preen as if he’d complimented you.

“And you love it,” you say, giving him a sloppy kiss. After a moment, Eddie pulls you from him by the back of the neck and pushes you towards Steve, encouraging you to kiss him the same way. You’re more than happy to oblige.

A little while later, you’re roused into awareness by the fact that Eddie’s started humping against your ass. You pull away from Steve, dazed, unaware of how much time has passed. You feel drunk, limp and pliable in their combined arms.

“I really meant it. If I don’t get to fuck someone soon, I’m gonna explode,” Eddie says impatiently. Your skin erupts in goosebumps as you imagine being filled by both of the men in front of you.

“I want…” you begin, but trail off. Uncharacteristically shy.

“What d’you want, baby?” Steve asks, rubbing a hand down your back soothingly. In contrast, Eddie slides his fingers into your soaked folds, playing with your aching clit. The sensation makes you buckle forward against Steve.

“I…want you both to fuck me.”

Eddie let’s out a dark groan while Steve inhales sharply.

“Yeah baby?” Eddie asks. His eyes flick to Steve who looks stricken with want. “How exactly do you want us to fuck you?”

You’re feeling positively nonverbal at this point, so you place a hand over Eddie’s big hand where it plays between your thighs and grab Steve’s hand to bring it to your mouth. When you begin sucking on his fingers, making pointed eye contact with him, his eyes almost roll back.

“Fuuuck, Princess. Yeah. Yeah we can do that.” Eddie grunts beside you.

The two men share a look above your head, agreeing on some unspoken logistic, and then they are springing into motion. Manhandling and maneuvering you the way they want.

Which is how you find yourself back where you started. On your hands and knees on the mattress. Feeling so full you could burst. But this time, as Eddie fucks into you from behind, Steve is feeding you his thick cock inch by inch into your waiting mouth.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Steve cries out when you swallow around him. Eddie barks out a laugh from behind you.

“She sucks cock like a champ, eh Harrington?”

“You’re fucking telling me. Shit!” Steve grasps at your hair, trying his best not to fuck forcefully into your throat, but moaning when you take him to the hilt all on your own.

Meanwhile Eddie’s back to his favorite thing in the world - gripping onto your hips and driving into your pussy like his life depends on it.

“So wet, Princess. You’re loving this, aren’t you? Stevie in your throat and me in your pussy?” Eddie says in his husky, sex-colored voice and you moan around Steve’s cock, making him curse. “Always such a good girl, but you know taking us both at the same time makes you bad, right?”

You spasm at that. Brought right up to the precipice just by his words alone. Eddie knows it, humming gleefully, and reaches down. On hand flat on the small of your back and the other winding around to find your clit.

“Princess like you wants to be bad?” he coos, swirling circles into your sensitive bud.

You’re practically seeing stars now. The feeling between your legs is so overwhelming and the feeling of Steve’s hard dick sliding in and out of your throat has tears streaming down your face. You scrabble for purchase, grabbing at Steve’s thigh and he places his hand over yours gripping you with all he’s worth.

“She might be bad, but she sure is sweet, Eds,” Steve coos. Steve wipes a thumb under your eye, sopping up the tears that have collected there, before sliding down to the spit leaking from the stretched corners of your mouth. “How does she taste?”

Eddie groans that the question.

“Check for yourself.” He lifts his hand away from your clit and you whine at the loss of stimulation, though you squeak and pipe down when he delivers a hearty slap to your ass. “Don’t you want Steve to taste you, bad girl?”

Eddie reaches over your body, offering his glistening fingers to Steve who leans forward and takes them in his mouth. His forward motion causes his cock to move forward too, settling deeper into your throat and making you gag. You breathe deeply through your nose to settle the urge, wanting to keep him as deep as possible for as long as possible, especially when you hear him start to moan.

“Holy…fuck,” Eddie mumbles, voice devastatingly low. Steve looks at him with half mast eyes as he sucks on Eddie’s fingers, his hands digging into your hair to help guide you steadily up and down his dick.

Eddie’s own dick twitches inside you as your walls begin to tighten, announcing your climax. Eddie’s fingers slip from Steve’s mouth and he trails them down the line of your back, leaving a trail of Steve’s saliva.

“You gonna cum, baby? This too much for you?”

You finally pull off of Steve’s cock with a shuddering gasp. You’re heaving, lungs desperate for the air you’ve deprived them, but as you watch Steve begin to fist his own cock in front of your face you salivate yet again.

Another spank delivered to your ass.

“I asked if you want to cum,” Eddie prompts you and you whimper.

“Yes yes please. I wanna cum. Can I cum, Eddie?” you ask, breathless.

Eddie locks eyes with Steve again over your body. Steve looks thoroughly fucked out, face, neck, and chest flushed, hair sticking up in every direction, sweat on his temples. His abdomen clenches and Eddie’s confident both of his lovers are as close as he is.

“Ask Stevie,” he says simply.

You’re completely out of it now. Cheek mashed into the sheets, lurching forward and back with each of Eddie’s thrusts, gazing up at Steve above you and watching him jerk himself off. You don’t hear Eddie’s question, so he spanks your ass again, this time on the other cheek. The sting is so good you wail, back arching and hips shimmying to push back into his next thrust.

“Ask Stevie for permission to cum,” Eddie commands.

You grip the sheets and look up at Steve, taking in his blissed out expression. The way his big hand moves punishingly up and down his shaft, the ruddy mushroom head of his cock almost disappearing in his grip with each upward tug. The pearl of precum collecting at the tip, making you want to swallow him whole yet again.

“C-can I cum, Stevie?” you ask. Practically sob. Steve’s face crumples in pleasure, so close to his own release and you beg. “Please!”

“Cum for us baby,” Steve says quietly, his free hand reaching to cup the cheek that you don’t have pressed into the mattress.

Eddie thrusts in all the way in that moment, filling you to the very top, hitting that spot that he knows you can’t resist. With his hand working your clit, and his voice muttering things like “that’s it baby” and “take it” and “come on, pretty girl,” you find yourself absolutely falling apart.

You cave in on yourself as the pressure overwhelms you. You want more and less at the same time and convulse, all of your muscles spasming at once. Your vision goes practically white as you reach the peak of your high and then you’re boneless, dropping to lie flat on your stomach, your knees no longer able to hold you up.

Eddie doesn’t mind one bit though because immediately he’s slipping out of you and turning you to flip onto your back. You lay there as Eddie shuffled up on his knees, pushing himself up between your spread legs. Stroking his cock with quick, hard pulls that you can hear because you’d soaked him with your cum.

You’re dizzy now from the heights you’d reached during orgasm, but you arch your back up from the bed luxuriously, opening your eyes to find Steve above you, his balls swinging over your face as he fucks himself with his fist in time to Eddie’s own strokes.

Eddie’s not sure where to look. Your still heaving breasts? Steve’s weeping cock in his unforgiving grip? He settles on both, eyes flying from one to the other as he reaches his climax. Steve does the same, enamored by the way Eddie touches himself with abandon and awed by the way your body melts and stretches in the aftershocks and afterglow of being fucked so well by the two of them.

Steve cums first. He groans gutturally and his hand speeds up on his cock as ropes of cum spurt out onto your chest. You gasp at the feeling and arch into it, both as a genuine reaction and then also a little for show to egg him on. The sight of Steve releasing, combined with an image he loves (cum on your tits) has Eddie cumming not long after.

“Holy fucking…Jesus fucking Christ,” Eddie groans as he spills hot, sticky cum all over your tummy. A little gets on your mound and you lift a lazy hand up to smear it a little, smiling up at him as he drops forward to look at your face.

“Feels good, Eds?” You coo. Having cum first, you’re the first recovered. You reach up with grabby hands and after catching his breath, Eddie chuckles and pulls you up into a sitting position.

You wind your arms around him, pressing you spend-sticky tits to his chest. Eddie drops a kiss to the top of your head, and you feel another one on your shoulder when Steve moves up to cocoon you in a hug from behind.

The three of you stay like that for a while, sticky, sweaty, and satisfied. Wrapped up in each other’s arms, lips pressed to any skin that can be reached.

Then Eddie lifts his head and smiles ruefully at Steve.

“Thanks for coming and helping. As you can see, she’s a handful.” As he says handful, Eddie squeezes a good handful of your breast, making you squeak and swat at him.

“Hey!” you protest without any bite, grin big on your face. You melt however when Steve palms the other one, more gently, lightly playing with your nipple. You practically slide back down into his chest, muscles jelly, lust sated but still burning like a content ember in your belly. In spite of Eddie’s teasing words you look at him with love and grasp his hand tightly.

Steve smiles down at you and then up at Eddie.

“Anytime.”

~*~

#issa’s writing travel day #steddie x fem!reader #steddie smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington smut

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

Text

Dirty Work 9

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: We made it to Friday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The watch ticks on in your hand, counting down the seconds you spend trapped beneath the bed. Cowardice, embarrassment, shock. Pick one. You finally break your paralysis and crawl out from beneath he frame, listening cautiously as you drag yourself across the floor inch by inch.

You stand, glancing furtively around the room. You clutch the watch and turn, hovering it just above the night table. That's too obvious. It wouldn't just appear out of nowhere. You need to come up with a story but you don't know if any lie you tell could be believed. It seems, he even doubts you when you are honest.

You drop your hand to your side and near the door, turning your ear out to listen to house beyond. You grip the door handle tight and lift the door on its hinges as you open it. You slip out, easing the handle down then up to keep the mechanism from clicking.

You peer down the hall as you hear Mr. Laufeyson in his study, the shuffling and scuffing of drawers being pulled in and out.

There are two paths forward; put the watch somewhere and let him find it or return it to him and feign ignorance. You don't know which is better, both entail a lie you aren't equipped to tell.

You pad down the hall, sidling against the wall and into the library. You could pretend you were there all along, say you found the watch earlier. He would think you busy as he was in the shower. That you were in a world, and a room, separate from him.

You go to the desk and set the watch down as you sit. It takes you a moment to get your mind to focus and you open the lid of the laptop. You hit the power button and tap your fingers on the wood as you wait for it to start up. As the screen lights up, the door from the study opens. You don't have time to hide the watch. The path forward is paved.

Mr. Laufeyson sweeps in without pretense, as he often does. For as much as he resented his brother for the very same, he is comfortable in just barging in. You sit up and look at him over the top of the computer. He crosses his arms as his eyes peruse the space.

"You've not seen--" He begins, his voice trailing off as he faces you. Like a hound, his eyes fall instinctively to the watch. You don't acknowledge it.

You type the password in to unlock the computer. He comes forward and leans forward, spreading his fingers wide over the other edge of the desk. He hums.

"Where did you find that?" He dips his head down, gesturing to the left of your laptop.

"Uh," you let your eyes wander over, "oh!" You look at him with surprise, "I was cleaning and it was... by the sofa. I meant to return it but I haven't seen you, Mr. Laufeyson."

He squints and shifts his weight. He pushes himself straight and smooths his shirt. He is without his usual jacket. He takes measured steps around the desk and comes to stand right beside you. Too close. You feel the heat radiating from, smell the same scent from the room cloying from his figure.

"The sofa?" He questions as he snatches up the watch. He examines it, as if he suspects it is a dupe. "Why, I should be grateful, yes? You've found the very thing I was in search of."

"Er, I guess," you shrug and drag your fingers around the touchpad listlessly. "Uh, excuse me," you stand, the chair scraping loudly behind you, "I forgot my bag downstairs, Mr. Laufeyson."

"Hvitsten," he wags the watch at you, staying firmly in place, "a Norwegian brand," he explains, "this is the North Sea model. Backed with Lapis Lazuli," he turns the face out, "nice, isn't it?"

"Um, sure, Mr. Laufeyson, I... I don't know much about watches," you eke out.

"But you can see it is a fine watch, yes?"

You take a step back and he takes one forward as your leg hits the edge of the chair. You gulp and stare at the watch hanging over two of his long fingers, "I like the colour--"

"If you were to guess, what do you think this piece costs?"

You blink and shake your head. You don't understand why he's asking. Can't he just thank you and take the watch?

"I don't know, Mr. Laufeyson," you croak.

"A pawn shop might offer you a few hundred, but that would be a con," he scoffs and turns the watch over, bringing his left wrist up to hook it in place. "This particular model retails for over two grand. I expect that's more than your rent," he tuts, "a fair amount for anyone but I pay for quality."

"I... it is really pretty," you offer.

"Oh I am aware," he smirks, "naturally, it catches the eye. One can hardly miss it."

You frown. Is he accusing you? You don't say a word. You expect whatever you say wouldn't change his mind.

"So, what I mean to say is I am very grateful that you've found this," he tugs his cuff straight, "for it would be a great loss indeed."

He drops his arm and stays where he is. He does not retreat and despite the urge, you do not either.

"I must be mistaken to think Thursdays you were to clean the second floor only," he remarks, "though it may be a trick of fate that you did the first as well."

"Er, I... had a few minutes-- Mr. Laufeyson, my ledger is in my bag--"

"In time," he crosses his arms and leans back on a heel. You dare to glance up as his eyes scan you from head to toe, "these..." He dips his head to allude to your attire, "are new?"

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson, I thought-- no more jeans," you press your palms to the wool pants.

"Mmm," his hum is less than delighted, "still, lacking."

You wilt. You really tried and it's still not good enough. He unfolds his arms and you stand dumbly, frozen, as he reaches to pick a thread from your collar. It unravels and he lets it dangle before you.

"As I said, quality is worth the extra cost," he harrumphs and lets the thread fall, "I did provide you a rather generous signing bonus but perhaps your first check will provide adequate compensation."

You watch the thread fall and back up to bend and retrieve it. He watches you and you close your hand around the string.

"I'll throw this out," you assure him, "and grab my bag--"

"I did not dismiss you," he insists.

"I am coming back--"

"You do grow bold, yes?"

"Sorry, Mr. Laufeyson, I didn't mean--"

"If you would let me speak, I might be able to tell you what I had in mind when I entered," he rebukes, "I have a delivery expected at two. I would need you to sign for it. Can I trust that simple task in your hands?"

You chew your lip and bow your head. He inhales and backs away slowly, "very well, go." He flicks his fingers at you dismissively, "grab your things and get to work.”

🧹

There's a pungent stench as you enter the house. The TV blares loudly from the living room as the stale waft of tobacco lingers in the air. But more, there's something far more putrid.

You peek into the living room. It's later than usual. Your father's head is tipped back as he snores upright. His oxygen tube is taught across his nose and the tank pulled against his leg. As you turn on a light, you notice the dark stain across the front of his pants. Oh no, that's what that smell is.

He gurgles, frightening you. At first, you think he's choking. He coughs and spits into his ash tray. He waves his hand in front of his face.

"What're you waking me up for?" He snarls.

"I was just checking on you--"

He groggily shifts back and forth, shaking his head as he gets his bearings. He looks down and you see him tense. He sits up and reaches for the remote.

"Um, did you need any help--"

"Piss off," he snips, "I was yelling for you earlier. Where were you?"

"I... was working. I told you--"

"Working? What the fuck is work? You? Pfft," he scoffs as he flicks through the channels.

"It's okay, dad, I'll grab you some new pants--"

"Shut up!" He barks. He's obviously embarrassed. You are too. Worse, your guilt sears in your stomach. You should've been there.

"Dad, it's not--"

"You're a dumb bitch, you know that? Shoulda let me fucking sleep," he grits out, "like you shoulda let me die. Now I'm hear sitting in my own piss with no fucking smokes."

He throws the empty pack at you and you wince. You pick it up as your eyes tinge hotly.

"Maybe... maybe I could look into getting a nurse. The doctor said--"

"I can take care of my fucking self!"

You snap your mouth shut and clasp the package between your hands.

"I'm only trying to help--"

"What? By keeping me in this hellhole? Eh? It's fucking torture. Why the fuck would you that?"

"Dad," you squeak, "I love you--"

"Proves how fucking stupid you are," he snorts.

You stand in scalded silence. You're just trying to help. That's all you've ever done and it's never been good enough.

"If you don't got smokes, go the fuck away," he hisses.

You obey and leave him, tossing the empty pack in the garbage. You head upstairs with heavy steps and yawn at your door. You drop your bag on the bed and go back to close the door. You lean on it as your tears begin to flow.

You can't do anything right. No matter what you do. It's like you're trying to get your head above water in the middle of a storm. You slide down to the floor and hang your head over your bent arms.

You know you can't stay home. As prickly as Mr. Laufeyson can be, he pays you well and he isn't entirely unkind. He didn't have to pay you a bonus but he did. He didn't have to hire you at all. Besides all that, he can at least admit when you've done something well.

It isn't him you can't say no to, it's the money. Not just to pay off the hospital but to keep the house running. For yourself as much as for your father.

And you can't leave your dad alone to fend for himself. He obviously can't, not anymore and he doesn't want your help. You might love him but there's only so much you can do.

You lift your head and inhale, sniffling roughly as you wipe your nose. Tomorrow, you'll go to the hospital and ask about home nurses. You'll have to find room in the budget.

🧹

You're out of breath as you get on the bus. You had everything timed out so you could get to Mr. Laufeyson's on time. Still, your usual bus went out of service and you had to get a transfer onto a different route. The change throws your entire day off and adds to the disparity of your week.

You get off a bit further from Mr. Laufeyson's as this bus doesn't go as far as the other. You run down the street, sweating in the black polyester pants and peach coloured button-up. You scramble to get out the phone and put in the proper code.

Your first try is with the one from the day before. On your second try, you clatter through and scurry down the path. The backdoor proves just as troublesome in your frantic rush.

You get inside and leave your shoes by the door. No cleaning, or at least, you don't plan on it. You near the bottom of the staircase, breathless and puffing, clinging onto the straps of your leather bag.

"You are late," Mr. Laufeyson strides out of the den.

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson, I'm sor-ry," you gulp through repressed pants, "the bus--"

"I don't care about the bus. It is your responsibility to be here on time, regardless of the method."

"I understand--"

"I am starting to question if you do," he rebukes.

"Mr. Laufeyson, it won't happen again."

"I know it won't or you will not have another chance to be late," he warns, "you were not here to prepare the tea for my guest. I had to do it myself."

"Guest? I... didn't know--"

"I didn't ask if you knew. If you'd been here on time, you would have," he chides, "it seems, in my efforts, I forgot to fetch the biscuits with the teapot so you will go and do so."

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson," you nod, "I'm so sorry--"

"Sorry, yes, I'm sure you are," he lifts his chin and turns on his heel, "you certainly will be..."

At first, you're not sure you've heard the words. That he would say something so callous. You back away, heart hammering as you try to convince yourself it wasn't real.

You go back down the hall and shove your bag in the back closet. You veer into the kitchen and search the cupboards; biscuits, biscuits, biscuits...

You find an unopened tin and bring it down onto the counter. You peel away the plastic and take out a sleek black serving plate. You use some tongs to lay out the biscuits neatly, an array of each type. You'd done similar for Corrissa with the hors d'oevres. You take the plate and carefully make your way into the hall, trying not to disturb the arrangement.

You enter with your head down, hoping not to disturb Mr. Laufeyson as his deep voice carries to the high ceilings. The curtains are open and the windows shine brightly. You peak up as you approach him and his guest.

She doesn't notice you until you're a foot away. You shy away from her gaze, her pupils a greenish blue and her golden hair silver along the temples. You place the plate on the round table by her elbow, just between the chair and the end of the sofa where she sits.

"And who is this?" She preens curiously.

"Mother, you needn't worry--"

"You hired a full-time maid?" She wonders.

"Mmm," he hums, "suppose she would be a house manager. She handles all the little details I don't have time for."

"Oh, like Evelyn."

"I suppose," Laufeyson agrees dryly.

You back away and look up again. Is that really his mother? She's beautiful.

"Please, darling, join us," she trills.

You blanch and look at Mr. Laufeyson as a line squiggles between his brows. He looks between you and his mother. Before he can protest she is on her feet.

"Please, I do love to get to know the staff," she approaches, "I'm Frigga. I hope you've heard a lot about me. His mother, of course. I only came to see that he's well... he never has time to call. Perhaps you might change that, hm?"

You glance over at Laufeyson again, frightened. Not just by this over friendly woman but by him. You don't know if you should say you have work and refuse or if that would be rude. She is his mother and you wouldn't want to upset.

"Mother, she does have her work--"

"Tosh, it can wait," she puts her hand on your arm and ushers you to the couch, "have some biscuits, darling, you look faint."

Laufeyson huffs but does not speak. He hooks one leg over the other and places his chin on his knuckles. He glares at you and you look to your lap.

You've done the wrong thing again but you're not sure there is a right option in this circumstance.

"These are my favourites," Frigga declares as she holds out a braided biscuit with large grains of sugar sprinkled over it. "Don't tell me these are the same I gifted you for the holiday," she tisks.

"I haven't much of a sweet tooth."

"I do forget, Thor tends to fancy the sugar," she chitters and returns her attention to you, "forgive me, I didn't get your name."

Your mouth is dry. You stare at the golden rings on her fingers. You clear your throat and utter your name, sealing your misdeed.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #dirty work #mcu #marvel #avengers #thor #maid au #au

254 notes · View notes

slightly-smarter-nat · 2 years

Note

Cause I have yet to find a fic with this topic, how about one where it takes where no Civil War happened and everyone is still one big happy (chaotic and world saving) family, and the team hears about Rogers the Musical so they go to see it, thinking it won’t be bad….but oh were they in for a surprise. The OG 6 are just reacting like Clint did in the series, meanwhile Sam, Bucky, Wanda, and Reader are just laughing their asses off and teasing them. And can it be Natasha Romanoff x avenger reader? Just some good ole Avenger Family bonding with Nat and R being a cute couple!

Rogers: The Musical || Natasha Romanoff

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: The best Musical around mentioned. If I have missed any warnings, please let me know.

Word Count: 3415 words.

A/N: Thank you so much for the request anon, I really appreciate it! This definitely needs to be a ‘What If’ episode concept lol. I hope you all enjoy! Please note this is an au so some character’s behaviours may be different to what is expected.

Please do not repost (on here or any social media platform), copy, translate or take ownership of my work. Reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated <3.

Masterlist

*Italics/boldness represents dialogue from the Musical.

GIF not mine

Rogers: The Musical: Natasha Romanoff-

“I’m so bored, there’s nothing to do,” Wanda says exasperatedly as she flops herself down onto the couch opposite you.

You release a sigh in agreement with her as you place your phone down onto the coffee table in front of you, “I know right, we don’t even have any missions coming up to prepare for.”

Wanda hums in acknowledgment, “Should we watch some TV?”

You nod as you settle yourself further into your chair to get more comfortable; facing the TV screen.

Wanda uses a flick of her magic to grab the TV remote from the cabinet holding the TV system.

Once she switches it on a familiar phrase that you’ve all heard countless times on missions blasts through the speakers.

‘I Can Do This All Day!”

You and Wanda look towards each other in surprise as the screen is filled with what you could convince yourself as Steve Rogers’ double, dancing across a stage.

‘Rogers: The Musical!

The critically acclaimed show that’s taking NYC by storm.

Watch as your favourite Avengers come to life onstage at the Tony Award winning, Richard Rodgers Theatre.

With ‘I Can Do This All Day’ as their classic, hit musical single.

Rogers: The Musical, for tickets visit RichardRodgers.org’

As the commercial comes to an end, you can’t help but allow your mouth to hang open in utter shock- they made a musical about the Avengers!?

“I-I’m speechless, never did I think I would see Clint doing the splits on TV.” Wanda says as she looks over at you.

You can’t help but laugh in response; allowing a plan to form in your head, “Hey, the team hasn’t had a proper get together for a few weeks now.” You let out as you slowly bring yourself out of your chair to face Wanda.

Wanda becomes intrigued, “I think I like where this is going.”

“Well, I think we should all have a family-friendly night out at the theatre, what do you say?” You mischievously smile, knowing a few team members in particular won’t be best pleased with the musical of choice.

Wanda nods her head enthusiastically, “Let’s go ask the team!”

You both sprint to the meeting room, where most of the team members are finishing up some of their own mission reports that are due in for the coming week.

You instantly greet the members present before quickly making your way to your girlfriend- knowing she’ll be the hardest to convince.

“Hey, my love.” You speak in a sweet tone, hugging Natasha from behind, whilst she is sat on her chair.

Natasha turns around to smile sweetly at you, dragging you over to sit on her lap, “Hello detka, what are you doing in here? I thought you were relaxing.”

You snuggle into Natasha, “I was, but me and Wanda wanted to know if you guys wanted to go and see a show tonight?”

The rest of the team turn their attention away from their tasks.

“What kind of show?” Steve questions as he moves his papers aside to rest his arms on the desk in front of him.

“Oh, just some musical. It’s relatively new.” Wanda attempts to fill in Steve’s question without giving too much away.

“A musical, really? Why would we want to go to a musical?” Sam asks as he looks between you and Wanda in confusion.

“Trust me Sam, you’re going to love it.” You widen your eyes slightly to signal for Sam to go along with it- something the two of you made up for opportune pranking moments.

Sam releases a silent ‘ah’ before adding, “Oh yeah, cool, I’m up for that.” Sporting his signature, mischievous smirk on for effect.

Tony looks at you sceptically, “What are you up to y/l/n?”

You open your mouth in mock offence, “Me? Why, I just want our loving team to hang out and have fun. Is that a crime, Stark?”

Tony rolls his eyes at your antics, “What do you think Widow?”

You lift your gaze to Natasha, “Hmm, I don’t know. It doesn’t really sound like our thing.”

You pout at Natasha, “We’ll never know if we don’t try.” You say trying to convince her to agree to the show.

Natasha kisses your pout away, “Okay, I guess we aren’t doing anything else so yes, I want to go.”

You instantly snuggle back into Natasha with a smile, as she carries on annotating her mission report.

“I think it’s a great idea, we’ve all been so busy lately it will be nice to hang out together.” Steve says as he picks up his papers and drops them into the box ready to be delivered to Fury himself.

“I’m coming, but only if I get to pick where we eat afterwards.” Tony says as he leans back in his chair and places his feet on the table.

“Agreed, Clint, Bruce can you two make it?” Wanda asks.

They both nod in agreement, “I’m down, it beats sitting around doing nothing.” Clint says as he twirls his pen around in his fingers.

“I guess I can get some time away from the lab.” Bruce says as he swipes across on his device, viewing various test results.

“Perfect, I’ll ask Thor later on but I’ll book the tickets for let’s say the 7pm showing?” You ask the group, receiving multiple nods.

“Wait a minute, isn’t that new musical about Ste-“ Bucky starts to question until Wanda interrupts him.

“Step in time? No you’re thinking about Mary Poppins, that’s not the one we were thinking of watching.” You give Wanda an amused smirk at her excuse, causing her to glare over at you.

Bucky looks between the two of you puzzled, until Sam tells him to ‘just go with it’, knowing you and Wanda will explain your plan to them in good time.

—-

“What musical are we seeing again, detka?.” Natasha questions as you both make your way through the crowds of the busy streets of New York to catch up with the team.

Once you make it through the wave of people, you grab Natasha’s hand and start to gently swing it back and forth, “It’s a surprise, I think you’ll love it.”

Natasha gives you her signature smirk, “Oh yes, because I am Broadway's number one fan.” Natasha sarcastically replies.

You playfully smack her arm, earning a laugh from the red head, “No, but seriously what is it-“

Before Natasha can finish her question, you hear Tony shouting, “Rogers The Musical?!” Having seen the huge yellow, flashing poster decorating the front of the Richard Rodgers Theatre.

The whole team looks at each other in surprise, causing you and Wanda to smile victoriously.

“Since, uh when?” Thor lets out, pointing his finger up for dramatic effect.

You put your hands up in defeat, “Okay, okay so Wanda and I saw the commercial for the show and we couldn’t resist. In our defence, it did look rather entertaining.” You say in an attempt to defend the choice of show.

To your surprise, everyone looks quite excited.

“Well, what are we waiting for, let’s get this show on the road people!” Clint says as he leads the team to the theatre entrance.

Steve walks up alongside you to place a hand on your shoulder, “Thanks y/n, I’m sure it will be a great show.”

You smile at Steve appreciatively before Bucky walks over to drag him away, “Come on old man, you can’t keep your fans waiting.” Steve playfully fights Bucky to the doors of the theatre.

Just as you’re about to resume walking you feel a hand tug you back by your arm, causing you to look back, “Was this your plan all along?” Natasha asks with a hint of amusement.

You bite your lip in thought, “Hmm, most definitely, yes.”

Natasha shakes her head as she puts her arm around you and leads you across the sidewalk, “You’re lucky you’re cute. Now come on before I freeze my ass off.”

You pull Natasha closer as you pick up the pace to catch up with the team, genuinely curious as to what the show beholds for you and the Avengers.

————

The theatre is absolutely packed, clearly it wasn’t just you and Wanda who had the idea to organise a family day out to Rogers The Musical.

Luckily for the team, you managed to get seats right in the middle of the bottom set of seats; giving you all a perfect view of the stage and the entertainment you are about to witness.

You side-step through the gaps between the seats, scanning each letter and number combination assigned to each one to determine which seats are yours.

Once you finally make it to them, you all settle down into the cushioned seats to get comfortable.

You’re sat in between Natasha and Sam, as the rest of the team fill up the remaining spaces in your row; with Bucky and Thor on each opposing end.

You attempt to drown out the random chatter surrounding you so you can listen to what your team is saying as you wait for the show to start.

Tony picks up his complimentary show programme given to him at the door upon arrival, scanning it in displeasure, “Here’s something I don’t get, why is it not called ‘Stark The Musical’?” He asks in a serious tone.

You shake your head as you reach into your bag to grab a bottle of water you brought from the tower, to take a sip. Just as you bring the bottle to your lips, Natasha decides to reply to Tony’s question, “Because then no one would come and see it.”

The water doesn’t even have a chance to run down your throat before it is sent flying out of your mouth in shock response to Natasha’s brutal remark.

You let out a few coughs to compose yourself, causing Natasha to pat at your back soothingly; unfortunately for you, when you look back up in front of you a very disgruntled man is glaring at you, having been sprayed by your water outburst.

You’re about to apologise until the look of pure horror crosses his face and causes him to turn back around. You raise your eyes in suspicion until you look beside you and see Natasha sending her unnerving Black Widow scowl towards the man- ultimately frightening him from going off on you.

You rub at her cheek, causing Natasha to instantly relax and lean into your hand, “Play nice, my love.” You say, earning an eye roll from Natasha.

“You’re no fun.” She says as she grabs your hand from her face and links her fingers through yours.

Just as you’re about to respond the lights around you dim, signalling that the show is about to begin. That and the constant shushing Sam is letting out to everyone that still dares to speak.

The show’s logo of Captain America’s silhouette shines vividly on the stage’s curtains. Until the curtains start to open, revealing quite an impressive ensemble on stage.

There stands ‘Captain America’, center stage, surrounded by some of his most trusted allies.

Sam leans over to you and whispers, “This should be good.” Causing you to give him a playful smile.

Oh how you were all in for a treat.

————-

You don’t know how long it has been, but you’re enjoying every single minute of it.

The costumes, the dancing, the songs, it’s everything you could have hoped for to use as a way to tease your closest friends and girlfriend.

Throughout the duration of the show, everyone except you, Sam, Wanda and Bucky have slowly slouched further and further into their chairs. In hopes that they’d be swallowed whole by them to escape the embarrassment of seeing versions of themselves prancing around on stage.

You’ve long gone past the point of holding in your laughter, at this point Wanda, Sam, Bucky and yourself have matching red faces; with tears streaming down your cheeks. One line after another sends you into fits of laughter.

Just when you thought you could pull yourself together the show graces you with another gem of a line.

‘Captain America’s strong, and that Thor is a God; and lord knows they’re easy on the eyes.’

This causes Sam to clutch his side in pain from his continued laughter; Bucky is laughing into his clothing in an attempt to muffle the noises; Wanda is biting her lip trying to stop herself from laughing whilst being sat next to Steve himself.

As for you, you don’t even dare to look to the side of you, practically feeling Natasha’s glare burning into the side of your head.

To make matters worse, the Black Widow solo is coming up, and if you laugh you’ll probably be sleeping on the couch tonight.

The ‘Black Widow’ actress shows off her range of impressive tricks, attempting to finish off with some kicks and twirls around the stage.

You lean to Natasha, “You know, I still think your twirls are better.”

Natasha faces you with an unamused expression, “I’ll show you how much better my kicks are too if you laugh again detka.”

You pout until Natasha displays a smirk; knowing full well you’re just teasing her. She leans into you to resume watching the chaos unfold on the stage.

You take a moment to see how the others are doing: Tony is using his coat to shield himself from the audience surrounding him, desperate to escape recognition; Bruce is cringing furiously as the ‘Hulk’ pirouettes and smashes around the stage; Thor is asleep in his chair, which is entirely expected from him; Clint is watching the stage as though he doesn’t even know what is going on- to which he’s not alone on that one and finally Steve is resting his face on his hand, attempting to not cringe at the way ‘Captain America’ is leading the vocals with his iconic phrase.

You briefly hear Bucky excuse himself to use the restroom, most likely to beat the busy crowds that will surge that way once the show has finished.

Your limits are tested to the ultimate max when the next scene unfolds of ‘Hawkeye’ marching his way down some stairs very enthusiastically along to the lines of, ‘Hawkeye hit the bullseye, there’s no better shot than you!’

Wanda is the first to break on that one, receiving a disappointed side glance from Clint, “He’s ruining my image, I’m not supposed to be that happy.” Clint says in response.

“Clint, I think it’s safe to say all of our images have been ruined.” Natasha says as she attempts to hide her own amusement at her best friend’s displeasure.

“Tony you’ve got nukes to catch, be careful not to crash!” Sam mockingly sings towards Tony.

Tony removes his coat to lean forward and address Sam, not caring about those surrounding him, “Wilson, if you carry on you’ll be walking home.”

Sam laughs more, “Stark, it would be completely worth it.”

You playfully roll your eyes, knowing Sam is in his element.

Your attention is snapped back towards the stage when you see ‘Hulk’ in the middle with a prop concrete block; being surrounded by his team chanting ‘Hulk, you know what the magic word is.’

This creates the perfect opportunity for you and Wanda to join in the chant, causing Bruce to smile in awkwardness until he finally mumbles ‘smash’ along with the song, allowing you to release little cheers at his co-operation to join in.

Much to your dismay, the song is drawn to a close as ‘Captain America’ sings his final dose of the classic line of ‘I Can Do This All Day!’

Once the music stops and the lights shine brightly above the audience, you; Sam and Wanda instantly jump to your feet, applauding the show.

Wanda releases some whistles of approval, whilst Sam chants ‘encore’, causing Steve to quickly escort him out, not wanting to hear the performance for a second time.

You laugh as you gather your belongings, reaching out for Natasha’s hand in the process. When she doesn’t take it, you look towards her to see her displaying a displeased look and her arms folded across her chest.

You let out a nervous laughter, “I’m sorry?”

She squints her eyes before grabbing your hand and pulling you forwards with her, “I bet you are y/n.”

You wait to the side as you see Tony attempting to wake up a sleeping Thor, causing Bruce to become involved when the God of Thunder ignores their efforts.

Clint walks up to you and Natasha, “That was the worst thing I have ever seen.”

You bite your lip furiously to hold in your laughter.

“Well there’s no better shot than you and all.” Natasha says teasingly causing you both to share a laugh.

“You’re officially off my Christmas list, the both of you.” He says as he walks towards the others.

Natasha shrugs her shoulders as you both walk in the same direction, leaving Tony and Bruce to their task.

—

“What took you so long Buck, you missed the best bits of the show.” Sam says as he walks up to Bucky who opted to wait outside once the show had come to an end.

“Somehow I really doubt that. Anyway, I saw the merchandise stand and talked to the woman and she gave me all this stuff for us to remember such an awesome show.” Bucky sarcastically lets out as he roots through his bag of merchandise.

“Wait, don’t they close them up until way after the show?” Clint says as he walks over curiously to see what was in the bag.

Bucky just continues to roam through his stuff, “Yeah well I used my charm, here I got you a keyring.”

Clint takes the keyring from Bucky, admiring his signature purple hero symbol, “Thanks, man I actually appreciate it.”

Bucky starts to distribute the merchandise accordingly, “When Stark gets here I got him a ‘I love Steve Rogers’ cup for his lab.”

The team laughs at the mug, “Finally, the truth is being acknowledged.” Steve jokes as Tony walks out of the theatre, looking at you all confused from your sudden laughter at his presence.

“Oh and y/n, I got you this t-shirt.” Bucky throws a black t-shirt your way, causing you to let go of Natasha to catch it.

Once you hold it out in front you smile, “Thank you Bucky, I’ll wear it every day.”

Natasha moves to see what it says, and smiles proudly when she reads, ‘I love Black Widow.’

She brings you into a hug and whispers into your ear, “You’re damn right you do.”

You give her a quick kiss in response as the team starts to head down the street, now having Thor up and ready to go.

“Okay, since you horrible individuals made me endure that show, I’m voting that we all go for cheeseburgers as compensation,” Tony says as he turns to address the group.

“Stark, it was your turn to pick anyway, anywhere is fine.” Wanda replies as she admires and wears her new blanket with the Avengers symbol on it that Bucky gifted to her to protect her from the December chill.

“Do I dare ask what we all thought of the show?” Steve asks.

“Absolutely brilliant, definitely worth seeing the look on all of your faces.” You say as you attempt to tease the group.

“You are just jealous that you didn’t have a part to play in that fine play.” Thor says as he follows close behind the group.

You turn to face him, “How would you know, you slept right through it.”

“He actually fell asleep even before it started.” Bruce adds, causing Thor to smile in pride, having escaped the responsibility of watching the show.

“I actually have a complaint. How come Scott Lang made it to the on-stage team, yet we didn’t?” Sam questions as he gestures to you, Wanda, Bucky and himself.

“Maybe because Scott wouldn’t make fun of his dear friends in their time of embarrassment.” Tony inputs.

You all stare at each other in thought, “No, that’s definitely not it.” Wanda says.

“Maybe because he can ‘do this all day’!” Bucky shouts out, causing you, Wanda and Sam to join in; attempting to dance around the streets and mimic the show.

“Can we kick them off the team?” Tony asks the others.

“No, we wouldn’t trade them for the world, no matter how annoying they are.” Natasha says as she watches you attempting to replicate all the Black Widow moves from the show.

She knows for a fact she wouldn’t trade you for the world, even if you do have the worst dance moves in New York.

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shinigami-stories-a · 5 months

Text

Failed Dessert

❝ It was the worst thing I’ve ever tasted in my life. ❞

▸ main character(s) ㅡ victor

▸ ship(s) ㅡ none

▸ fandom ㅡ mr. love queen’s choice

▸ author notes ㅡ “dummy, how can you even fail such an easy dessert?” based off this image by yukimaru.

please feel free to share & reblog, but please do not repost.

───────────────────────────────────

Victor sighed, annoyed. Once again he was dragged off to LFG with his father due to preparing him to take on the company once he was older (even if he was still young). However, his father was dragged into a meeting and so Victor was left to his own devices.

Finding himself bored, he made his way towards the break room, where he had stored his lunch. Sitting down, he took everything out of his bag and began eating. About two bites in, he realized he was being watched.

Without bothering to look up from where he sat, he stopped eating and cleared his throat. “May I help you with something?” The girl in the corner jumped, not expecting him to acknowledge her. After all, he was the CEO’s son, he was next in line to run LFG and he was way, way too far above her. “Uh… I was just…” She paused for a moment, thinking about what to say. “Nevermind. I-I’m sorry. I’ll give you some privacy.”

She stood up and was about to run out the door when he stopped her. “I don’t like people wasting my time. Spill it.”

“Oh, I was just thinking about how delicious your pudding looked.” She said softly, avoiding his gaze, afraid to upset him.

“My… pudding?” Finally setting his spoon down, he grabbed his pudding and stood up before making his way towards the company’s utensils drawer, grabbing a spoon and making his way back to the girl. “Here.” He said, holding it out towards her. “You can have it.”

She looked up at him with stars in her eyes. “You’re just going to give it to me?! But it’s yours! I couldn’t.”

He groaned. “Just take it before I change my mind. I can have these anytime I want!”

And without another word, she took it before looking around for a place to sit, wondering if he’d be upset if she sat down with him. But before she had a chance to open her mouth to ask, he was already pulling the chair out for her. “Sit.”

“Th-Thank you.” She said, moving to sit down, setting the pudding on the table as she felt him push the chair in. Watching as he moved around the table and sat back down in his own seat, she couldn’t stop staring.

He picked up his fork and moved to take another bite before looking up to meet her gaze, causing her to look away embarrassed. “I-I’m sorry for staring, you’re just so kind… and nice to look at.” She said before turning back to the pudding.

“Tch.” Ignoring her, he resumed eating his own food as she took the lid off the pudding and took her first bite. Eyes growing wide, she looked up at him. “This is the best pudding I’ve ever had! Where’d you get this?”

“I made it.” He said in between bites, which caused her eyes to grow wider.

“What?! You made this?” She asked, “But how?!”

“Simple. I make my own caramel and egg mixture, put them in the pudding cup, and then put it in the oven. Then I add the garnish.” As he spoke, she watched him with her mouth wide open in amazement.

“That’s what you call simple?” She asked, “I’d hate to see what you think not simple looks like.”

He just scoffed, a small smile on his lips as he watched her continue to eat which was enough reason for him to turn back to his own food. “Well, maybe if you’re here again tomorrow, I’ll bring you more.” He mumbled under his breath.

“Huh?” She asked, “Did you say something?”

“Nope. You must be hearing things.”

───────────────────────────────────

The conversation continued as the two finished their meals. She shared how her father was the producer of a TV show and was trying to get a business deal going with LFG while Victor shared that he was only here as part of his father’s preparation for him to become the next CEO of LFG.

The two talked for what seemed like hours, but still, it didn’t feel like enough when her father came knocking on the break room door.

“Come on sweetie. It’s time to go.”

“But dad!” She whined, “Do we have to?”

With a sad smile, he nodded. “I’m sorry honey, but the meeting’s over. We have to get home in time for dinner.”

“Okay.” She said, standing up as she cleaned up the mess on the table. “It was nice hanging out and talking with you Victor.” She said, a soft smile on her lips. “I hope we meet again!”

And with one final wave, she ran off towards her father as the two went on their way.

Shortly after they left, Victor’s father also came in to get him. Having been in meetings most of the day, he hadn’t had much time learning the ropes, but he didn’t care. He rather enjoyed talking to the lonely girl in the corner of the break room.

───────────────────────────────────

Day after day, Victor found himself sneaking down to the LFG break room to see if he would see the young girl again, but after a few times of not seeing her, he wondered if he was wasting his time.

However, one day, he decided to check one last time. This time, he found her sitting at the same table he was at when they first met, a pudding cup sitting on the table in front of her.

“Victor!” She called upon seeing him, jumping up and running over to him as she wrapped her arms around him. “It’s been forever!”

Victor tensed up when she hugged him, waiting for her to finally let go before he relaxed. “Yeah, I guess so.” He said, “Is that… pudding?”

She nodded, turning back to it before picking it up and holding it out towards him. “You gave me your pudding the last time we hung out so I wanted to make something for you in return, but recreating the one you made was a lot harder than I thought.” She said, “But I think I got it!”

He took the pudding and spoon from her, taking a bite right away. He was curious after all. So far no one has been able to make caramel pudding quite as good as him and he was wondering if she would be the first.

He stopped chewing mid-bite and froze, quickly swallowing it before holding it out towards her. His face was one of disgust, but he didn’t dare say a word.

“S-So?” She asked, nervously as she took the pudding back from him. “It was the worst thing I’ve ever tasted in my life.” He said, harshly.

She looked at him, holding back tears with a frown on her face. “Y-You’re so mean!”

“I’d rather be mean than be a dummy like you who can’t even make such a simple dessert!” Victor retorted with a click of his tongue.

“Not all of us can have five star chefs that cook for us every day!” She said, finally crossing her arms and turning her back towards him. “I made so many and this was the best I could do.” She added softly under her breath.

“Tch. If you think this is your best, then you’re mistaken.” He said, “You just need someone half as good as me to teach you how.”

Tilting her head back towards him, she looked hopeful, albeit a bit hesitant, as she asked, “W-Would you… Teach… Me?”

“I said someone half as good as me,” he corrected.

“But, I don’t know anyone else who could do it.”

With a sigh, Victor placed his head in his hands. “Fine, but you better do as I say!”

“I will! Thank you, thank you!” The girl bowed her head, dedication and excitement washing over her before she felt a single warm hand on the top of her head, forcing her back up.

“But only if you don’t do that again.”

“I’m so sorry! It’ll never happen again, Victor! I will behave and listen to everything you say!”

He scoffed as he brushed past her, a soft smile forming on his lips for a brief moment. “Are you coming or not?” He asked without even bothering to glance back at her. She quickly joined him, falling into step beside him as he scoffed once more with an added, “Dummy,” just softly under his breath; and with that, he shoved his hands in his pockets as he made his way to the kitchen with his new friend in tow.

#mr. love queen's choice #mlqc #mlqc victor #victor #.story (mlqc: first meetings)#.story

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ishgard · 2 months

Text

Four Songs for a Ship

RULES: share four songs / pieces of music that represent your ship. REPOST. DON’T REBLOG.

001. Hozier - "Francesca"

If someone asked me at the end I'll tell them put me back in it Darling, I would do it again If I could hold you for a minute Darling, I'd go through it again I would still be surprised I could find you, darling In any life If I could hold you for a minute Darling, I would do it again

002. Florence + The Machine - "Wish That You Were Here"

And I never minded being on my own Then something broke in me and I wanted to go home To be where you are But even closer to you, you seem so very far And now I'm reaching out with every note I sing And I hope it gets to you on some pacific wind Wraps itself around you and whispers in your ear Tells you that I miss you and I wish that you were here

003. Vancouver Sleep Clinic - "Someone to Stay"

You've been fighting the memory, all on your own Nothing worsens; nothing grows I know how it feels being by yourself in the rain We all need someone to stay We all need someone to stay

004. Vienna Teng - "Eric's Song"

So we just hold on fast, acknowledge the past As lessons exquisitely crafted painstakingly drafted To carve us as instruments that play the music of life For we don't realize our faith in the prize Unless it's been somehow elusive How swiftly we choose it The sacred simplicity Of you at my side

Tagged by: Myself! I dragged it up from the archival depths =⩊= Tagging: You!!! Seriously, if you've got a ship and that ship has songs, I wanna hear them!! So tag me please!

#mine #ahru hiraeth #deryk xiv #wol x deryk #ship: wanderers embrace

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mocharadio · 2 years

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Go to Sleep, Idiot.

Now Playing(Title): Go to Sleep, Idiot.

Song Artists(Characters): Albedo x gn!reader

Genre: Slight Angst/Comfort, Mutual Pining

Remix(Au): Modern Au, College Au (somewhat vague)

Lyrics(Summary): You're tired, but you won't go to sleep unless Albedo does too. Feelings get acknowledged, much to your discontent (or not?)

Explicit?(Warnings): no beta we die like Albedo's sleep schedule, reader is emotionally detached, they/he used for Albedo, ooc(?), mentions of Bulimia (an eating disorder) on the readers end

A/N: yes this was rushed, yes this is manifesting for Albedo to come home. I'm writing this at 2 am by the way lol /srs

also this is the first time I've wrote anything besides headcanons in a while so like please bare with me </3 English ain't my first language either so..yikes.

Feel free to criticize! Please like and reblog ^^

It's 3 a.m.

3 in the fucking morning.

So why isn't he in bed?

"Dude, Albedo, it's getting so late it's.....no longer late. Why haven't you gone to sleep yet?" You lean against the wall just a few steps away from your bedroom, peeking into the living area where Albedo was. They can feel the glare you're giving him, but choose not to comment regardless. "Ah, so you're ignoring me now. I see." you sigh. You walk over and plop yourself on the couch next to him, looking over his shoulder. They don't bother giving you a second glance, they're aware of your overbearing but very much enjoyable presence. He opens his mouth to say something but shuts it immediately to scribble something down. You lay your head on his shoulder, waiting for them to respond at some point. You know he will, he always does; they never ignore you without a reason. Luckily for Albedo, you're too tired to notice the hitch in his breath when your head makes contact with him. They're not used to this much.....affection? Does it even count as affection? Especially from the likes of you. No offense, you just tend to be very...distant. Glancing over his shoulder, he allows themself to relax for a moment and lean their head against yours. "I.....need to finish the rest of these notes. I'll be done in a few." he finally replied. "Uh-huh, sure you will. I know how you work, 'Bedo. If I don't stop you now you'll be at it till its time for your first class." Normally they'd just shrug it off if you scolded them. It's a normal occurrence for the two of you. Albedo reprimands you for your unhealthy eating habits (what are they, your mom?) and you reprimand him for his shit sleep schedule. Somethings....different this time though, they can feel it. You let out a small groan due to exhaustion and lean forward to rest your elbows against the coffee table. "I'm not sleeping until you do, period." you scoff. Albedo finally turns to face you, not even attempting to hide the dark circles under his eyes. They tilt their head to the side, as if they were trying to study you, analyze you, like an experiment. Hoping that they'd get their way.

And you weren't having any of it.

"Alright, that's it. Let's get you to bed pretty boy." You stand up and try to drag him off the couch, only to find yourself flung back on top of it. Son a bitch pulled you down. "You've gotta be fuckin-" they slap your hand over your mouth and give you a side eye to cut you off, before inhaling and saying those words you didn't even realize you never wanted to hear till now. "What's wrong? You haven't been acting like yourself lately. You still scold me as usual but it lacks a certain...energy. Have you not been eating well? Not sleeping, maybe? Did I..... do something wrong?"

That. That right there.

Truth be told you were doing pretty well, actually. Your grades are doing better than ever, as of recently you weren't gorging and then starving yourself for days on end (hell, you'd say this is the longest time you've gone without relapsing), everything was A-Ok! Except for the fact that you're in love with your roommate! Shocker!

You didn't and still don't have the heart to tell them about your feelings, it could ruin everything, but you knew it would come to this. You can't keep hiding your feelings forever, you know it would start showing at some point.

You just never thought it would be like this, never thought he would ever think that he was the problem and not you, but at the end of the day you're still too much of a pussy to admit your feelings.

"Y- Where did you even get that from? No, you didn't do anything wrong 'Bedo-"

"Then why are you so distant towards me. We used to be so close." Ouch. That fucking hurts. Especially because you know they're right. You thought it would be okay to open up for once, to let someone in, but as soon as you realized your...romantic predicament, you just shut him out all over again.

You hurt him, and this is another reason why you can't tell him how you feel. You don't deserve them, you don't deserve to love or be loved by them.

At least, that's what you think. Albedo sees it in an entirely different light though.

They adore you. They love you so much it hurts them sometimes, because they don't know how to show it. He tries, he really does; in lingering touches, soft gazes, their vulnerability. A kind of vulnerability only you're allowed to see. So where did they go wrong?

It's silent, and tense. Neither of you move or speak for a good five minutes. What's even left to say? You can't bring yourself to deny it, cause you know he'll want a reason, a reason that you just can't give him. Not now.

Finally, Albedo scoots closer to you, hand resting on top of yours. They tilt your head to meet your gaze, half-lidded eyes focusing intently on your lips. You act like you don't see it, there's no point in getting your hopes up, not for someone you don't deserve. You decide to break the silence, shifting the focus onto him.

"Bedo. Have you been overworking yourself just because you think you did something wrong?" You know you're right when you see a slight flinch, before he turns away. "You still didn't answer whether or not I did do something wrong...I did, didn't I?"

Your heart shatters when you hear his voice crack, you can't keep going on like this. If you didn't deserve them before, you definitely don't now. You need to fix it, you know you do. So you try.

"No, you didn't."

Part of you thinks you can get out of this without having to expose that part of you, the part that feels something for him. The part of you that's vulnerable, weak. "Then why?"

You realize there really is not easy way to get out of this. You can't bring yourself to say the words, you might fall apart if you do. So you kiss them instead. It's short, but it sends the message. You let your free hand cup his cheek as you pull away, avoiding his gaze in fear of what he might do, what they might say, and that fear only grows bigger when he just says "Oh."

It dissipates when they lean in for more, returning the kiss they didn't have enough time to process beforehand. This time, you both pull away, and he rests his forehead against yours.

"I see. Well, I'm glad I didn't do anything wrong but....maybe just tell me next time?"

Of course he would.

"Like you're one to talk" you grumble. You would wipe that shit-eating grin off his face right now if it wasn't so cute. They turn back around to continue typing their notes, but you just close the computer. Laying back on the couch, you pull him closer until he's laying on top of you, face on your chest and his arms wrapped around your waist.

"I'll help you finish it later. Go to sleep, idiot." Ah, yes. Your lovely word choice. They know there's nothing but genuine concern and fondness though, so he lets it slide. "Mhm. Thank you."

You both let out a sigh of relief, before drifting off to sleep.

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austarus · 2 years

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Harrison Wells (Eobard Thawne) x Reader - A Single Broken Soul

*A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me. It belongs to its rightful owner.

**Please don’t forget to comment, like, and reblog. It means a lot to content creators of all kinds!

***I’d also like to thank @grimtamlain-writes for being my beta reader.

****This is my opinion, disclaimer - so I guess the writers finally thought it was time to shove romance towards Eobard though it contradicts what he’s always said and done in s1. His characterization isn’t adding up and I guess he can join the rest of the characters who have fallen victim to this. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but this show has been going to shit because of the blatant ignorance these writers have for all these characters. Don’t get me wrong, I love this show, but I’m so tired of hearing this and that, finding out things keep going in insanely inexplainable directions for the sake of viewership without an actual solid plan to make a season plus future seasons work. But once again, that’s just me and I’m just bitter because this show has give me my comfort characters who have stood by me through the years and have helped me pull through things in my life. I’m honestly disappointed. Am I going to stop writing? No, I love my bois and I just can’t let go of not figuring an explanation out of why the writers sudden took a turn to having them do something. Have I stopped watching the show? Yeah, since s6 ended. I’ve wanted to stop after s6 crisis, but I tried to have hope that things will work out. I was wrong and I’ll continue to be wrong with how the writers only slap whatever onto the scripts for these characters without acknowledging past development and characterization. Am I endorsing people to not watch the show? That’s not for me to decide, you do whatever you so please to do. I’ll still be here writing for my bois and trying to fucking fix things for them with my fics.

*****TW: cheating

Word Count: 2799

MASTERLIST

“Eo?” Your voice bounced in the darkness of your quaint home. With furrowed eyebrows you turned on the lights, the bulbs flickered to life in the living room. Locking the door behind you, you took in a shaky breath at the temperature contrast from outside. You placed the groceries on the leather couch before discarding your jacket and slipping your shoes off to tuck them in the closet. The home wasn’t as lavish as Eobard’s old mansion back in Central City, but certainly didn’t carry any simplicity inside the home. Yet, it was cozy to you – all you had asked for was for there to be some skylights and a fireplace to sit by to read your smut/fantasy novels. Keystone was nice; you both had found a decent place in the woods to lay low until you and Eobard moved with the next phase of his plan.

“Eo? Yoo-hoo??” Peering into each room, you saw no signs of life. A little sigh left your lips as your feet trudged down the stairs to the makeshift lab Eobard had turned the basement into. Once a genius scientist, always a genius scientist. He’s probably slaving away in the labs again. You rolled your eyes at the thought, knowing you’d have to drag his ass back upstairs for some proper food, so the speedster doesn’t resort to eating Big Belly Burger for the rest of his life. “Eobard Tiberius Thawne, I swear to god if you’ve stashed away another bag of Big Belly Burger without getting me anything, you’re definitely sleeping on the couch tonight.” Your socked feet touched the cold concrete of the basement’s floor, only the emergency lights were on from select gadgets and monitors. But there was no trace of your fiancé. Your shoulders sagged slightly, something weighing on your mind before you shuttered the thoughts away. Where could you be? Your tongue ran over your chapstick-coated lips as your eyes scanned over the untouched lab. Papers and notes were scrawled on while a clear-glass board held multiple types of physics equations and theories. Aspects of Eobard’s knowledge that always slipped over your head no matter how hard you tried to understand it all from him. Maybe he went to stretch out his legs. He does that from time to time.

Pivoting, you turned back to head upstairs to close the blinds all over your cottage home. It was only 4:45pm, yet the sun had already set and the brisk air of night greeted anyone who remained out under the waning moonlight. He’ll be fine. Pursing your lips, you started to put all the groceries away while leaving some main ingredients out to make some dinner for the both of you. You had planned on making Lemon, Asparagus, & Chicken Pasta with homemade garlic bread on the side. I just hope he makes it back before it gets too dark. And before the food gets cold. Your eyes caught the faint rustle of leaves outside your home, the chill in the air blew a bit harsher tonight in comparison to earlier that day when you were out. You took a slight breath in, willing your eyes back to the onions and veggies on the cutting board. Sometimes it gets a little creepy out here in the woods, especially when the nights had been climbing earlier and earlier in the sky. Though you had powers from the Particle Accelerator explosions, it didn’t make whatever lurked in the darkness anything shy from scary. Rubbing your eyes, you got started with chopping up the onions.

***A Few Hours Later***

A yawn itself ripped from your throat; your heavy eyelids cracked open languidly as your body arched in trying to wake itself from sleep. Your bones ached at the stretch, yet it felt so nice to do so – the cracking oddly satisfied your locked up joints. You exhaled a little breath from your nose. The fire still crackled in its place while your book lay discarded on the carpeted ground. The air in your home was warm, the light from the gentle flames licking at the air kept the living room illuminated. Must have fallen asleep while reading again. Another yawn left you as you stilled for a moment, craning your ears to listen for any moments in the house. Any sounds of static or muffled curses from the other rooms; any sign that Eobard had returned home. Your eyes moved slowly around the living room, yet there were still no traces of your fiancé, only the rustling from the trees outside. You chewed on your bottom lip, pushing the blanket to the side and picking your book to place back on the couch before heading downstairs with a cup of water. The automatic lights flickered on once more as you entered Eobard’s lab. Your feet made a beeline to the pristine plinth that faced one end of the lab. You reached a hand out just barely above the activation frame only to stop your movements and retract your hand back to your side. That one thought that you’d been dreading to recognize came back to mind; the little bits of it feeding into the bundle of anxiety within yourself, but you shook it off. I need to know when he’s coming home. I have to tell him; he deserves to know. Without another doubtful thought, you waved your hand over the activation frame to start up Gideon. The artificial intelligence flickered to life before your eyes, an emotionless smile on its holographic face. You took a sip of water before the AI had the chance to speak.

“Good evening Ms. (L/N). How may I be of service to you today?”

You tilted your head to the side in confusion at the AI’s greeting. Gideon always calls me Mrs. Thawne. You pushed the thought to the side before asking, “Gideon, where’s Eobard?”

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure I understand the question.”

A frown now graced your features. “What?” But it’s a simple question. “Gideon, please show me where Eobard is,” you tried once more with a cocked eyebrow.

Gideon was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry, Ms. (L/N) but there is not anyone with the name ‘Eobard Thawne’ in my database.”

You heard the haunting pump of blood in your ears. “What? What do you mean there’s no one named ‘Eobard Thawne’? What happened to Eobard?!”

“‘Eobard Thawne’ does not exist in my database.”

“Where is the Reverse Flash?”

“Zero results for the ‘Reverse Flash’.”

“Search again.”

“Zero results for the ‘Reverse Flash’.”

“No, no, no.” Your whispered voice cracked as you ran a hand through your hair. “Again.”

“Ms. (L/N) I’ve already searched through various extended databases. Zero results remain for the ‘Reverse Flash’.”

You couldn’t believe your ears – your thoughts racing at the notion of Barry time traveling again or worse. “Did… did the timeline change? Did anything happen?” It couldn’t have….

Instead of responding, Gideon shuttered out completely. You blinked for a moment at the AI’s response before gritting your teeth and with a clenched fist you hit the plinth with all your might, a noise of frustration had left your lips. You swallowed thickly as you tried to steady your breathing. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in… breathe out. Pain reverberated in your fist, but it wasn’t as painful as the one caused by the growing ball of anxiety in the pit of your stomach. Instantly the plinth flickered to life once more, instead Gideon was replaced with video playing. No, not a video. A livestream with audio. At STAR Labs. Your eyes instantly flickered to the timestamp, widening in confusion. 2031? Your eyes lit up slightly as a voice spoke, that familiar deep tone that made your heart jump. It was Harrison Wells, but…The subtle flicker of red electricity behind the speaker’s eyes, something only you would catch, said otherwise. “Eo?” You whispered with disbelief written all over your face. The clip continued playing, Eobard stood in STAR Labs in a dark blue suit, but… everything about the setting felt off. The people around him were the same people he had sworn to kill. Where was Barry? Why was Team Flash not at Eobard’s throat? Why is he in 2031?

“-to my beautiful wife Iris.”

The glass cup in your hand shattered in your grip as those words left Eobard’s lips, blood seeping out from your palm from those words. The moment your ears caught his words was the moment your heart shattered and a crestfallen look had replaced the small bit of hope in your eyes. Your body vaguely registered the pricks of glass shards that littered the palm of your hand. Shards of glass clicked out of tempo when it made contact with the concrete ground as the video continued. A choked noise left your lips as the clip showed people cheering and celebrating while Eobard slipped a yellow ring on Iris’ finger, holding her hand, holding her close. This isn’t my Eobard, he would never… But your Eo wasn’t here with you – there were no traces of him anywhere except for 2031. Your vision clouded over as the clip shuttered out and Gideon retracted back into the plinth. The beautiful diamond black ring laced with rose gold refined metal on your own finger felt nonexistent as your thumb subconsciously rubbed blood and remnants of glass against it. Your bottom lip quivered as you stood there alone. Blood trickled in little droplets, staining the concrete ground. He left me…?

You wanted to breathe, but you couldn’t. You felt like a fish out of water, but you were falling as you hunched over the concrete with your hands keeping you up from collapsing on the ground. The knives of misery struck your heart. The first when Gideon had stated there were no records of ‘Eobard Thawne’ or the ‘Reverse Flash’ – the thought of Barry causing him to cease from existence had crossed your mind. After everything we’ve been through, all these years at odds with Barry and Iris plus company. I was the one the most at your side. I was the one there when you were getting you speed back, I was the one there when you were at your weakest. I was the one who entrusted my heart to you… Just yesterday we were fine. You were showing me how to rewire the Tachyon Enhancer. And last night when we... Was this morning his final goodbye? Had I misread things. I… It hurts. My chest hurts.It was getting harder and harder to breath, your chest constricted significantly as you dropped to your knees taking in quick but shallow breaths. Do you cry? Do you scream? Do you trash his labs? What were you supposed to do? HOWCANILIVEWITHOUTYOU? A whimper left your lips as your hands balled up into tight fists, the pain in your bloodied hand was faint, but it was there. I chose you over everyone – over everything – in the multiverse. I chose you every single time in every timeline I’ve been in. I left everything behind just for you because I love you. You’re all that I have left. You promised me you wouldn’t let go. That I was the one for you. That I was it.

The second knife that sliced through you had been the instant Eobard smiled down at Iris West as he put the ring on her finger, the small smile he had given you before placing the ring he had made on your own finger and kissing it on your hand. A silent promise to cherish and protect you always. What a magnificent lie that was. It’s funny, isn’t it? How in one moment, you were his everything and in the next you became his nothing. The one person that you gave everything to – the key to your heart and the source of your happiness had wanted nothing to do with you. The pain in your chest only intensified, the hair at the back of your neck stood up. I didn’t do anything wrong. “So why? Why did you leave me?” Why? All of a sudden, after all these years?

Memory after memory together only suffocated you – his wolfish smile when the strings to his plans all came together, his gentle words of comfort, the faith he had in you. The man who not only protected you but knew of your insecurities, the doubts that haunted you, and the broken past you seldom talked about in fear of being gaslighted. The one man who mended your fragmented trust in others and allowed you to be vulnerable – your safe space. I can’t imagine a world with you gone. The flinches and recoils, the subtle steps back when someone was yelling in the Cortex; the abusive past you had suffered that he had uncovered and didn’t shy away from. Never had Eobard raised a hand or his voice against you… The nights the two of you would stay up and talk, the countless hours spent training your powers alongside his and the revelation of the faint Negative Tachyons within your body from being consumed by Eobard Thawne. All those little moments together through these past years, all for him to throw you away for Barry’s wife when you were to be his soon. All of a sudden, the man who you had given your heart and soul to had wanted nothing to do with you. Why’d you let go, Eo? Was I not good enough?

You were worth nothing – that's what has always plagued you, being of no value to the people around you.. The one person in your life that made you feel so significant to theirs. That… the one person who made you feel so safe who had accepted you for everything in your twisted life and past. The one who promised to never let you go, the one who prioritized you and made you his first option; the one who would rather see the world burn for you because you were it for them and they couldn’t see themselves without you would be the same person to fracture your soul. Here you are alone; alone and discarded once again. He chose her over me. Flashbacks from the past seeped into your mind, thoughts of the past you had pushed away because Eobard was right beside you. He was right there proving all those thoughts wrong and loving every bit of you.

The third and final blow to your heart… when you had realized that he would never come home to you. Because he was with her. Because all of a sudden, he chose her over you; the beauty with limitless talent, confidence, and skill. Iris West. They always choose someone else over me. I was always the last option… Your breath hitched once more as your thoughts darkened – you were drowning. Your unwounded hand started pounding on the concrete, over and over again. Eobard had always told you that you’re the light in his life, the one who guided him through all the darkness that was pent up inside. You’re the only person that drove him to work harder, reach higher… to strive to get faster for. It had always been you, but was it just an incredible lie you had fallen for? Every cheeky look, every passionate kiss, every teasing touch – were they all meaningless in his book? Your heart ached, a whole forming in your chest. I love you. Please don’t leave. Don’t leave me, Eo, please. I can't do this without you! You promised you wouldn’t do this to me. I thought you were different, I trusted you. That little begging voice had returned so long from the years you had been mentally abused by a past ex – an extinguished voice of loneliness and longing. “Please don’t leave me. Please come back, please. I love you. You mean the most to me. Please.” Your body was numbing, it was getting cold. The betrayal of someone you love, someone that has been deeply cherished and ingrained in a life runs deeper than any sword could cut. Was it all a lie? A carefully orchestrated lie that in the end you’d stomp on my heart, tear it into pieces, then discard it for Iris??

I never… got to tell him that something delicate and tiny had started to bud inside of me. Slowly the palm of your bloodied hand grazed the lower part of your gut as a tear finally fell; they all started to fall as you hiccupped with quick breaths – you were having a panic attack. Your hands shook as your palm pressed hard against yourself, blood now soaking your lower abdomen. Right here.

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red-dead-scribbles-ff · 2 years

Text

Into the Fray | Chapter One

Run

Into the Fray Masterlist | Next Chapter | Visuals | Headers | FFN | AO3 Story Rating: M Chapter Warnings: violence, implied/attempted sexual assault, language Chapter Summary: Natasha finds herself on the run, heading west into the world of the lawless in search of refuge from her past. Auther Note: Here we go! Super excited to try my hand, writing in this fandom. Feedback is most definitely welcome and overwhelmingly appreciated. If reblogs aren't your style- comments are just as dandy 😁 Also - check out the 'visuals' link for an OC visual!

New York, September 1888

Her bare feet skidded across the cold, wet stone of the patio as she scrambled out the door. Droplets from the storm pelted her cheeks and dampened what little garments she still had on as she ran down the small sloping hill towards the main stables.

Closing in on the building, panicked sobs broke from her lips as she ran to the double doors. Pulling one open just enough to squeeze through, she pushed herself through the small opening, scraping her arms and legs in the process before falling to the dirt floor with a cry. Uncontrolled sobs escaped her lips as she pushed herself up to her knees, her hands clenched at the cool dirt floor, sparsely laced with straw.

“Natalya? What happened!”

The light of the barn was shadowed as a figure stood over her and then knelt to her eye level.

She looked up to meet his gaze, tears brimming her eyes and obstructing the details of his face; she struggled to take in a breath through the tightness of her throat.

“H- Help me- Help me please-” She couldn’t voice the details. They wouldn’t come out.

“Are you okay?” She saw her own hands come into view as he picked them up in a gentle but hasty fashion and looked her over. The deep red was smeared along her arms and hands, dripping to the ground from the rain droplets that still covered her skin. “Look at me- Are you hurt?”

"I don- I- what happened- I don’t-.” The words fell apart as they escaped her, and the concern and worry on his face only solidified everything even further.

“Come.” He grasped her upper arms in a gentle but firm grip and brought her to her feet.

She was directed to the other side of the barn; horses occasionally popped their heads out of their stalls as they walked by until they got to the room where she knew he stayed during his night shifts.

Leaving her in the doorway, he walked further into the room and got down onto his hands and knees beside the small single bed.

Her throat was still tight as she crossed her arms tightly, hugging herself and gripping what little fabrics still remained on her body.

Her figure shook from the wet fabric clinging to her, as well as from the cool temperatures. The closed doors of the barn prevented any draft from entering, however the darkness that she knew lurked outside was enough to chill her to her core.

A loud shuffle yanked her attention back to the small room and she saw him pulling a trunk out from under the bed. Opening the storage container, he pulled several things out of it before grabbing a messenger style bag from a chair at the nearby desk.

“W-What are you doing?” Her voice wavered as she watched his hurried movements about the room. The reality of what he was doing began to squeeze her chest from the inside out.

Setting the bag on the bed, he snatched some nearby clothes from the trunk and held them out to her.

“We don’t have time to waste, Natayla, come.” His voice was strained, and his eyes were starting to mimic her own.

Quickly walking into the room and taking the clothes, she gave them the briefest onceover, acknowledging the wool army shirt and pair of canvas pants.

“Put those on, quickly.” He gestured towards her once more before heading out of the room.

Her feet tried to drag her out of the room after him, but she forced herself to stay put. Attempting to swallow the lump in her throat she quickly put the shirt on over her chemise, and pulled on the pants, stuffing what she could of the damp material into them.

The last time she wore pants she was just a kid. It was an odd feeling, but one that only distracted her thoughts for a mere second as she buttoned the pants up and turned to see him in the doorway once more, holding out a pair of shoes; socks stuffed in the tops.

“I don’t want to g-”

“We don’t have time to discuss this, wee yin, come now.” He repeated the gesture, pushing them towards her once more until she took them.

Within minutes she found herself clothed in semi-fitted attire, boots laced, and a heavier coat being put on over the shirt.

Meeting her in the doorway, he walked up to her and gently brushed her wet hair from her eyes to put her worn out flat cap on her head.

He lowered his hands, and she quickly raised her own to adjust the hat before she felt him take hold of her upper arm to guide her out of the room and into the stable’s main corridor.

He let go of her arm as he came to one of the stalls, “Remember what we discussed?”

His question pulled her attention and over her quivering lip she attempted a response. “I don’t- I can’t go now.” It was obvious, but she hadn’t acknowledged the past several minutes enough to know he was preparing her for departure.

“We talked about this. It’s time,” His voice held emotion as he suddenly pulled open the stall door, pulling a haltered horse along with him.

She watched with big eyes as he tethered the horse outside the stall and went about grabbing pieces of tack.

“You remember what I told you. Keep away from town; follow the tracks away from the city, and don’t stop for anything.”

“I can’t-” Fresh tears swelled up in her eyes and began staining her cheeks further as she watched him through blurry eyes. “Not by myself-”

Too much. It was too much. Too soon. She’d never make it.

The horse was tacked up too quickly for her liking as he turned his attention back to her; walking up with gentle, sympathetic eyes that mirrored an understanding of her fear.

He approached her with purpose and began buttoning up her coat as she cried.

“We’ve gone over it a thousand times. You know what to do. You head west; you’ll be safe out there. You run and you don’t stop running until you know you’re safe, understand?” Taking gloves from his pocket he hurriedly guided her to put them on. Pulling his own scarf off, he put it around her, bundling it into her jacket before gently taking her face in his hands. His thumbs swiped away at the red-stained tears on her cheeks. “You have a fire in you, wee yin. No one has, or ever will, take it from you.” She could see the sadness in his eyes, but there was something else. “You’ll make it, I know it.” Certainty. It should strengthen her, but she only felt the crushing weight of her future and what was to come. He didn’t know the details. What would become of her.

He quickly runs back to the small room, leaving her alone with the steed tied to the stall door. Her eyes can’t help but meet that of the large horse standing with perked ears a few feet away from her.

“You remember what we discussed,” She turned and saw him holding out the messenger bag to her as he pointed to the flap of the bag. She quickly nodded, sniffling in a breath before wiping her face with the sleeves of the oversized jacket.

“Everything you’ll need is in here. I wish I could have taught you more, Natalya,” He helped her put the bag on before adjusting the strap more tightly so it wouldn’t slide off. “Be strong.” He gripped her shoulders for a moment and Natayla forced herself to nod. He was right. Be strong.

His eyes drew away from hers, behind her, and Natayla felt her chest and throat tightening back up.

“Come,” He gestured for her to follow, and he pulled the tethered horse into the middle of the walk of the stable.

“No- William, I’m afraid of-” He was hoisting her up before she could argue, and she was in the saddle before she could further her protest. “I can’t ride-!”

“Remember what I told you.” William gave her another gentle, reassuring smile and gaze of pure determination and belief. “Relax your body. Keep your center of gravity. He knows what to do.” He patted the horse’s neck as he held the reins just below his head. “You just have to guide him.”

Her grasp on the reins were tight, and her body was stiff before she forced herself to relax, just a bit. Lowering her hands, she collected the reins accordingly, adjusting her seat in the saddle. She could feel the colt’s tension beneath the saddle, reacting mostly likely off her own tension.

“Look at me, wee yin.”

Natayla turned her eyes down without a second thought towards William. He gave her a small smile and patted her knee with his free hand before making a gentle fist with said hand.

“Fire.”

Her heart ached. More than the rest of her did in that moment. She swallowed her nerves and nodded, rubbing her cheeks along the coat’s collar to dap away at the fresh tears.

“Will I see you again?” She couldn’t help the question. It was so naive to ask. It was an unfair thing to ask.

Expression faded; William seemed to contemplate it for a time before giving her a smile.

The barn doors are ripped open with such force that the clatter of them hitting the outside of the barn walls spooks most of the horses within the stable.

The colt below her let out a startled snort, and Natayla’s eyes widened with alarm and her breathing picked up as she clutched the reins close to her body, eyes on the far end of the stable as she looked on in horror at the arrival.

“There you are.” The statement was spat like poison.

William looked to her once more and released the reins.

“Run.”

The sound of gunshots battled with the raging storm as she galloped out the far side of the stable and didn’t stop.

Two Weeks Later…

The town was almost quaint. Picturesque even. Composed of no more than twelve buildings, it had a general store, saloon, and train station as its most populated establishments. From what she could gather, it started out as a livestock trading post. The general populace likely expanded the post within the last few years to accommodate more than just sheep and cattle.

It was a lot like what she saw in the newspapers regarding what lies west of America’s eastern coast; livestock towns, mining towns, lumber towns… Most of the towns out west seemed to harbor one dominant industry on which the settlements were originally established.

It had been weeks since that night. When William told her to run and not stop. Within the first twenty-four hours, she’d been separated from the colt William had sent her off with. The thunderstorm from that night didn’t help her escape, and the both of them got caught in a small mudslide. After falling off, she saw the colt take off into the darkness. Getting separated from that horse was just another knife to her heart. She’d been there when he was born; watched him grow. She’d called him Cal. A gorgeous red bay thoroughbred; he had a fiery spirit but a gentleness that William had said he’d rarely seen in colts. She loved spending time with Cal whenever she could get away from… him.

Losing that horse only made all of this that much harder. Making her way cross country without transport proved challenging but now she really was alone.

She’d hitched rides with all sorts of people, exchanging money for rides, and sometimes labor. So far, she’d had mostly good interactions. Families moving west who could use an extra hand with watching their children were abundant it seemed, and it proved one of the safest rides she could find.

She’d only had a few close calls regarding people with grey intentions.

She’d arrived in town in the early morning hours. It was getting close to sunset. She’d been hanging around in the small settlement all day, keeping an eye out for travelers and any word on anyone offering passage west in exchange for money or labor.

Stay away from trains and coaches if you can, William had told her. Especially near state border crossings.

He’d told her as such because missings persons bulletins were often posted near state border stations. The likelihood of someone recognizing her there was higher. But now… She knew he hadn’t counted on what actually happened that night. If the worst came about back home, she feared the next time she’d ever see her face on a poster that it wouldn’t be a missing persons bulletin.

He wouldn’t take it that far… would he?

Leaning against one of the porch beams by the general store, Natasha’s eyes were following the wagons and carts coming and going through the main street of the town. She’d asked the general store owner if he’d seen anyone heading west. He’d told her he hadn’t, but he’d keep an eye out. At the very least she had an extra set of eyes.

The ambience of town was, in some ways, soothing. Not like the city she was so used to seeing. You could see the sky here; the sun... the clouds. The smog and pollutants soiling the sky in the city made it, so she rarely ever saw the stars.

The past two weeks however kept her from enjoying those differences. Food and survival were all she could contemplate. Now finding a ride before nightfall was crowding the corners of her mind and quickly closing in.

“Um, ‘scuse me miss?”

The voice was closer than she would've liked, and the question makes Natasha turn abruptly, the heels of her boots catching awkwardly on the deck panels.

“Oh- I’m sorry.”

A hand catching her elbow only makes her tense up further as she regains her stability and steps away from the figure.

“Can I help you?” Natasha asked, gripping the strap of the messenger bag tightly.

“You lookin for a ride west, sweetheart?”

The man appeared older than her, perhaps in his late twenties or early thirties. His face was relatively tan, dirt and dust settled in the creases of his face. He had a dark head of hair peeking out from under a widely brimmed hat and a light dusting of facial hair. Clothing was clean but well worn.

His brow knitted under the brim of his hat.

“Reason I ask; storekeeper said the girl out here was lookin’ for a ride.” He furthered, waiting for a response- she now realized. She’d been staring for a little too long.

“I uh- Yes! Yes, I am,” Her enthusiasm escaped her before she could compose herself. The nerves of having nowhere to stay as night drew near started to ooze away, and a flicker of hope lifted the pressure from her chest.

“Where exactly?”

“Millstone.” Natasha answered eagerly but with more composure as she eased her breathing and tried to maintain a level of properness. “I’m moving in with my sister. With the costs of a train ticket these days I just can’t afford such an expense right now.”

“Millstone? Yeah, I’ve heard of it,” The man gave a slow nod. “My buddy an’ I are traveling past there. It’ll be a little over a day's travel, but we can give ya a ride.” He gestured for her to follow as he picked up a box of produce from the ground near his feet.

“Thank you, mister.” Natasha followed the man, keeping up with his fast but casual pace.

“Maine, huh? S’pretty far out for a lone journey. Young gal like yourself needs t’be careful.”

“Oh, I am being careful, Mister, thank you.” Natasha gave him a brief smile over her shoulder from where she sat next to the driver of the wagon.

The two men that had offered her a ride didn’t have much space, but they offered her the passenger seat on the wagon. The other sat back amongst the supplies.

They seemed to be nice enough people. Natasha had met plenty of good-for-nothings on her trip thus far. Even though she had some money to spare for a ride, some had asked her for other… favors. She’d turned them all down as calm but sternly as she could. None so far had overstepped, and for that she was relieved.

William had warned her that she would encounter people who would push her boundaries. And because of that, he’d kept one of his revolvers in the messenger bag - the go bag as he called it - in case she ever needed it. He’d never gotten around to teaching her how to shoot, however. If her uncle found out… There was never a good time for her to learn.

Aim where you wanna shoot; pull back the hammer and pull the trigger. Beyond that she didn’t know much else.

“I’ve never been up that way. How’s the weather?”

“Pretty cold during the winter months.” Natasha turned her attention to the one next to her, “The warmer seasons are quite nice though.”

“You a city gal?”

“Not particularly, Mister.” Natasha responded while looking out over the road ahead.

“M’name’s Floyd.” The man next to her gave her a tip of his hat, his mouth curved up into a grin around the cigarette in the side of his mouth.

Natasha swallowed and put together a very brief but polite smile.

“Floyd, then.” She responded.

“Back there’s Homer. But anyhow, you say you ain’t a city gal, but you don’t look like ya grew up out in the sticks.”

“My people bounced around when I was a child.” Natasha offered. “I wouldn't really call myself either of those things.”

“Most folk who grew up in these parts are pretty wary of strangers.” Floyd responded.

His words made Natasha’s brow twitch as she watched a wagon pass by them before her eyes briefly caught his.

“That so.” Natasha wasn’t sure what to say.

“Sure is. The west is…” He chucked, “A flawed man’s paradise.”

Despite feeling flickers of anxiety in the corners of her mind, her jaw clenched, and she met Floyd’s gaze head on for a brief time.

“I can imagine, mister.”

“Can you?” His expression seemed almost playful, almost too friendly, like one you’d give a friend you’d known forever.

He looked away before she could decipher it further.

Nightfall came quicker than Natasha thought it would. Granted it was still early months and the days were shorter. She wished she’d found a ride earlier in the day to avoid night travel.

Part of her wish came true when Floyd mentioned stopping for the night and continuing the journey the next morning. No night travel, but now she was stuck with these two strangers in the middle of nowhere. She took his words in stride, offering to help unload any supplies for the evening.

They found a spot a ways off the road in the woods to set up camp. It wasn’t until they began unloading some supplies from the wagon that Natasha noticed just how far off the road they were. She couldn’t even make it out anymore as they were surrounded mostly by forest.

Settled down for the evening, Natasha tried calming the flickers of nervousness bubbling up inside her as she stared at the pot of beans over the fire. They hadn’t given her a reason not to trust them yet. She was okay.

Homer was whistling under his breath as he stirred the contents of the pot around, eyes on the food being prepared. The crackle of the fire and the rustling of the leaves on the trees was soothing enough.

“You like beans, Miss?”

Natasha returned her gaze forward in Homer’s direction and gave a small nod.

“I do.”

Only seconds more passed before he made a dish and held it out to her.

“It ain’t much, but it's warm.”

“It’s perfect, thank you.” She put together a small smile of gratitude and received a small grunt in response from him as his attention returned to the fire.

“Hey Homer, look who I found!”

The statement wasn’t directed at her, but she found herself turning anyhow, not expecting to see Floyd walking out of the darkness of the clearing with five mounted men in tow.

“Hell’s that?” Homer sounded like he was now chewing something, and she heard a rustle from behind her as the man got to his feet.

Natayla felt her throat tighten; unblinkingly she watched five men get off of their horses a few meters from where she sat at the fire.

“Found these assholes stumbling their way past here.”

“You say that like we was lost or something.” One laughed as he dismounted.

“Forgive me- forgive me, I just wouldn’t be surprised one bit if you were.” Floyd laughed as he received what appeared to be a hard pat on the back from one of them.

His eyes met hers for a brief time as they all began heading towards the fire.

“Oh he-llo, I see you picked up a passenger… How much did she cost?” The words were mumbled but she heard them clear as day and found herself slowly turning back to look at the fire.

Slow down. Just breathe. You’re okay.

“Shut yer mouth, Ed. We have a guest boys, so please do try to be respectful of the lady.” She heard Floyd call back to them before he made his way around the fire into her field of vision. Taking a seat by the fire, he grabbed a dish to collect his helping of the meal.

“Ma’am,”

“M’lady.”

“Miss,”

They all made their own quiet acknowledgements as they came into her view. Within a minute they were all seated and gathered around the fire. She had someone on each side of her, but none had made their acquaintances yet.

“Thought we wouldn’t see you all for a while, Hugh.” Homer acknowledged one with a brief look in between bites of food.

“Boss made a change of plans.” She didn’t expect the person Homer had directed the question at to be close to her as his voice made her quietly flinch. “He wanted us to meet up with you two.” The one that responded, Hugh, was on her left.

“Good thing I saw ya then.” Floyd muttered the statement laced with a chuckle. “You’d be lookin a hell of a long time in the wrong darned direction.”

A particularly loud crack from the fire drew Natasha’s attention away from their conversation for a brief time. Letting her eyes dwell on the burning logs she grasped the fabric of her long skirt tighter, her legs bent off to the side.

She desperately wanted to tone out their conversation, just watch and listen to the crackle of the fire and the crickets on the outskirts of the tiny clearing they were in.

The stars were visible above; she wanted to look. She couldn’t. Just as she couldn’t tone out their conversation in search of relief from the situation she now found herself in.

Logic told her she was okay, but her gut said otherwise.

Floyd sat directly across the fire from her. There were three newcomers to her left. Two on her right, Homer of which was in between. The only one she knew by name of the five newcomers was Hugh who, she now knew, sat to her left.

All of them had gun belts, and weapons holstered within them. She'd seen it fairly often since she left New York. People were more readily armed out here. But the nature of the environment and lifestyle seemed to dictate that more than pure freedom of choice did.

“So, little lady. Forgive me for sayin it- But I didn’t catch your name.”

Natasha found her eyes drawing to the man next to her, Hugh.

He didn’t meet her gaze as he reached to get more beans from the pot and scooped them onto his dish with the ladle.

Other quiet conversation died away when her answer didn’t come immediately, and as the silence continued, she found the man’s eyes meeting hers.

He seemed almost curious. Clearing her throat, Natasha looked back into the fire for a moment before meeting the man’s eyes.

“Probably because I hadn’t given it yet, mister.”

Where did that come from?

Before she could process her horror to her own words several of the men let out loud fits of laughter at her response and she briefly shot glances around at them before meeting Hugh’s gaze once more.

“I imagine it’s only polite, miss. Forgive me.” He almost chuckled.

“Yeah, I never did catch your name, darlin-”

“It’s Jane.” Natasha almost cut off Floyd as he spoke up.

“Jane.” He nodded before raising his drink up. “S’been a pleasure.”

Several of them copied Floyd’s action; a couple dipped their hats; others mimicked a toast-like gesture with their drinks and conversation seemed to continue on without much thought. She found herself without eyes on her once more and she slowly began letting out the breath she now realized she’d been holding in.

Despite feeling the pressure of being in the presence of strangers, Natasha allowed herself a bit of time to tone out their conversations to have her own in her head.

She needed to find out more about them. At least act courteously comfortable in their presence. If she was too stiff it might complicate things further. Being too nice might have the same effect. Just- make simple conversation.

“Are you all heading somewhere in particular?” She asked the question to Hugh, turning her head in his direction in hopes that only his attention would be captured.

He didn’t look up from his meal as he took another bite. A nod followed a few seconds later.

“Yes ma’am, we are. California it’s lookin like.” He responded, “We’re meeting a few more companions in a few days.”

“Is your travel associated with your occupation?” She was genuinely curious. She’d heard how many jobs out west accorded that people move frequently.

“Prospectors.” He answered simply, eyes on his meal.

“So, your lives are fairly transient I take it, then?”

“Yes ma’am,” He gave a nod of confirmation, but once again, no further eye contact which confused her.

Deciding it was a good place to end the conversation, Natasha turned her attention back to her own meal and took a few bites.

As the hours passed, the atmosphere softened, to her surprise. The men seemed to grow more comfortable and relaxed, but also more drunk. Part of her hoped they’d just get themselves too drunk to do much as a few of them looked ready to pass out.

“S’been three weeks on’d trail.” One slurred, raising his drink towards Floyd. “Haven’t felt the touch of a woman in- s’long.”

The comment caught Natasha’s attention, but she continued to keep her head down, taking in quiet and steady breaths.

“Not one you ain’t paid for at least.” Natasha was almost certain that the mumble came from Homer as several of the men laughed in response.

“So, what has you travelin, ma’am?” Hugh brought her attention away from the others.

She met his eyes for a brief time before looking down into her lap and then at the fire.

“Going to live with my sister in Millstone.”

“Millstone,” Hugh repeated with the littlest nod following his response.

When his eyes were on the fire, Natasha found herself taking a few seconds to look at him.

He appeared slightly older than Floyd or Homer, maybe mid-thirties. Similar hair to Floyd, dark and relatively short under his hat. He had short facial hair, trimmed ever so slightly uneven; probably something commonplace when living out of the saddle and away from a proper barber.

“Your sister? She married?”

Natasha turned again towards Hugh, seeing him yet again not eyeing her. It confused her a bit; him seemingly more focused on his meal and staring into the fire. His tone was fairly casual, but his physical presentation felt detached from it.

It reminded Natasha of her uncle, back when he questioned her and it always sounded so casual, reassuring even. Then the questions would get more and more specific; his tone lower and posture more tense…

“She is.” Natasha nodded. “They wedded back in November.”

“And yourself?”

“Currently not engaged in any relationships, but my sister has someone she’d like me to meet with once I settle in with her.” Natasha explained.

He gave a small grunt in reply before taking a bite of his meal.

“Your sister. What’s her name?”

Natasha eyed him for a time, her lips slightly parted, brow gentle knit as she watched him for a time.

“... Elizabeth.” Natasha answered, “Elizabeth Williams.”

She’d thought of a few aliases. It was something William had mentioned. Names that were separated from her or immediate circle, but close enough that they could be remembered on a whim.

“Her husband is Roger Williams.” She furthered.

“Hmm.” He wasn’t giving anything away; nothing that she could further decipher. She learned how to walk on eggshells around her uncle… It made her hyper aware of a lot of things when it came to the underlying intentions in other people.

“Heeey- Hey!”

Natasha looked up to see the drunk one who had spoken up earlier. She wasn’t expecting him to be looking at her, however.

Her eyebrows jumped subtly in response as she waited for further words from him.

“Sss… Sw-sweetheart, would-” He let out a hiccup. “Y’do me the honor of- helping a fellow out on this fiiiine evening,” He seemed as sincere as a drunk man could be, eyes barely open as he looked in her relative direction.

Natasha eyed him with her lips partially ajar, unsure what to say at first until Floyd did her the courtesy of speaking up.

“She’s just a girl payin us for a ride west, Ed.” Floyd said. “Mind yourself.” His words in and of themselves were comforting, but they sounded flat and overall, lacking in sincerity. Her brow knitted a fraction at Floyd’s expression before she looked down into her lap, fiddling with the fabric of her skirt.

“Not sure I agree with that.”

Natasha’s hands slowly came to a stop on the fabric and her eyes dotted to the left.

“What’s that Hugh?” Floyd asked.

Silence followed and Natasha felt everyone’s attention shift in response.

“Just a girl…” Hugh trailed off, stirring the remnants of food in his dish, scraping the sauce up along with the beans onto the spoon before sticking it into his mouth with a small nod. “Don’t- think I agree, Floyd.” He said through chewing.

“Excuse me?” Natasha’s objection was quiet but loud enough to get Hugh’s attention; the words escaped her before she could realize their subtle hostility.

“Traveling from- Maine? Was it?” Hugh questioned her; brow knit with curiosity that breathed sarcasm. “Across half the country to go live with your sister in little Ol’ Millstone of all places.” He furthered before meeting her eyes. “Quite the little story… Jane.”

She couldn’t pull her eyes away from him. She was in trouble. She didn’t know just how much but to some degree… She was in trouble.

“The hell are you goin on about, Hugh?” The chuckle Floyd let out seemed hesitant. Like he was genuinely confused, which brought her a miniscule amount of comfort.

“That’s the story she gave you, hm?” Hugh finally pulled his eyes away from her, allowing her a brief moment to quickly graze over the others.

It got quiet and Natasha brought her eyes back to Hugh. His eyes seemed to linger on everyone before returning to her.

“... I jus want some attention s’all,” Ed slurred.

Out of the corner of her eye Natasha could see him unsteadily holding himself up with an arm propped behind him.

“You sure its Jane…” Hugh questioned quietly.

His voice was oddly smooth, rough in its own way probably from years of smoking, but smooth. If she couldn’t see his face, she’d mistake the question reassuringly. But his darkened eyes and almost predatory gaze quickly turned those tables in her mind.

“Excuse me?” She demanded.

There it is again. Stop before you get yourself into bigger trouble.

“I’d gladly consider excusing you. All ya gotta do is just be honest with me, darlin.” He let out a deep chuckle under his breath. “I’ll help you out.” He sat up a bit.

Natasha felt her diaphragm tense and breathing slow as her eyes followed him; her body sat rigid in place.

“Natalya?”

Her breath got caught in her throat as she stared at him.

“I gotta say, miss… You don’t look much like a ‘Jane’. Maybe an ‘Alice’… a ‘Katie’ even but- I’d put some real money on Natalya.” He gave a small laugh as he smiled and quickly wet his lips.

Natasha forced herself to swallow and take in a small amount of air as she waited for his next move.

“So? Natalya?” He tilted his head to the side.

“My name is Jane.” Natasha responded flatly; brow knitted tightly as she forced some expression back onto her face.

Hugh narrowed his eyes before raising an eyebrow. He was toying with her, his expressions almost playful. She liked him better when he was dismissive and uninterested.

“See- I don’t think I believe you, darlin.”

Her body went rigid, and she tilted her head back when he reached for her and gripped her chin in an eerily gentle grip. He tilted her head in the direction of the fire enough to illuminate both sides of her face.

“I could’ve sworn I saw your pretty little face on a poster at the sheriff’s.” He sighed. “Quite the reward too.” He chuckled.

“Identifying marks- a horizontal scar on her left cheek. Same place where you just happen to have one, darlin.” He ran his thumb along the almost healed injury that her uncle had given her that night. “Your hair was longer in the picture; not this- boy cut you got now, but I take this as a sign of you not wanting to be found.” He smiled.

Natasha continued to meet his gaze, afraid to pull her eyes away but also unable to out of something else. That something else scared her. Or at least it was what she had been conditioned into being scared of… Defiance. Her defiance.

She finally pulled away enough for his thumb to lift off of her face, and to her surprise he took his leave and lowered his hand back to his lap.

“We can do this one of two ways, Miss Ivanov.”

Natasha clenched her jaw at the drop of her last name.

Think think think.

“One: You behave, and we just might be gentle in bringin you to the sheriff tomorrow… Two: You throw a fuss, and I let the boys be not so gentle- it’s your call.”

Natasha felt the tightening of her jaw as she clenched it before swallowing. Her eyes fell for a brief moment before returning to the man who she now assumed held the most authority over the group given his choice of words. Either option ended with her in handcuffs…

“Might I also add, darlin, they prefer you breathin.” He lowered his head a fraction, bringing her eyes back to his. “Now a deputy in Millstone is a friend of mine, and I know for a fact he won’t mind the condition of yer little self tomorrow as long as you be breathin, so take a moment to think about that.”

She couldn’t help the twitch of her upper lip as she suppressed the further curl of disgust.

“Could’ve mentioned this earlier, damn it.” It sounded like Homer. “We could’ve been at this all night-”

Her head snapped to the side as he got up and Natasha was on her feet before she could process that she was up.

“Don’t touch me.” She snapped, backing up a couple of steps.

The bag. Where’s the bag?

“C’mon now kid let’s not be too hasty.”

They were all on their feet now; stances shifting smoothly like a pack of wolves descending on their prey.

Bag’s on the wagon. It’s on the wagon.

The wagon was behind her. A good twenty second walk at least. She could make it if she just- ran.

They collectively moved closer, and she stepped back in pace with them.

Run. Just run.

Not a second later did Natasha turn to run for the wagon. She almost slipped with the speed of her movements as she scrambled towards her belongings, and the loaded revolver waiting just out of reach.

She’s tackled and the air is pushed from her lungs as she hits the ground hard.

An enraged yell left her lips as she thrashed, it was a sound she hadn’t heard in a long time.

The pressure on her back lifts and a grip around her ankle begins pulling her backwards. She scrambles at the ground, pulling up grass and dirt before finally catching her fingers on something cold and smooth. A rock.

“Option Two it is then!”

She heard laughs above and behind her as she kicked her feet.

The fire came into view on her left and a hand grasped her shoulder to yank her onto her back.

Fight. Get yourself out of this.

One of the men coming into view, she swung her arm around as she was turned and the rock in her hand collided with his temple.

He howled as he fell backwards, clutching his head.

“Christ, Ed!”

“Get some damn rope then, Homer-!”

Natasha scrambled back onto her stomach and frantically crawled a few paces before a boot was pressed into her back and she cried out as she was pressed into the ground.

“Wait a moment there, darlin.” It was Hugh.

“Hurry it up, ya moro-”

“Get outta my way-”

The pressure lifted and multiple sets of hands descended on her.

She thrashed and yelled, the movement a disorienting blur as she felt the ground leave her body.

“отпусти меня!” Her native tongue escaped her before she could catch it: Let go of me.

Hands pulled her wrists in front of her, and the feeling of coarse rope enveloped her wrists.

“You’re makin this a hell of a lot harder than it needs to be, darlin.” A hand gripped her chin with enough force to make her whimper as her head was warped in the direction to look towards the owner of the hand, Hugh.

She continued to kick and thrash her body and what parts of her she could move as she felt the continued struggle of them tying her hands.

“Relax your little self- this’ll go a whole’lot smoother.”

She jerked her head back enough to get his fingers to slip from their hold and bit down on whatever she could get into her mouth.

A growl-like yell followed as she held her teeth around two of his fingers and warm, thick liquid oozed into her mouth.

“You bitch-”

She heard the crack before she felt it. Almost mistaking it for a tree branch before the unbelievable pain and pressure in her leg followed and scream left her lips.

He’d just stomped on her leg. That crack was bone.

She thrashed her good leg wildly now, shaking her head and whatever else she could.

“Hurry up, Ed. She’s mine after you’re done.” Hugh growled before stepping further away.

“Shhhhhhhh,” One of them tried to quiet her before a laugh left his lips, a hand petting her head as she tried to move away from the false gesture of empathy. Her leg throbbed and the pain was so great- she found herself unable to comprehend it as the seconds ticked by.

“Hold still unless you wanna get cut up-” One snapped.

She saw light reflecting off of a blade as it came into view, and she felt a new wave of determination flood her as she tried to turn over again with her now bound hands and scramble away when she was grabbed once more.

She wanted to cry out, demand to be let go- use some form of intelligent wording but the only thing she was capable of voicing was screams.

“Shut her up before somebody hears!”

“Get- over here-”

She was dragged backwards again and when she was pulled once more on to her back a fist collided with her face.

Her head bounced off the ground and she lay there stunned. Her vision was spotted, and she couldn’t make anything out. How time was passing she wasn’t sure.

“There- je- done… sooner.”

Cold air touched her chest and arms and she detected something being thrown away.

“There… go,”

She heard muffled laughter.

Her head felt like it weighed three times more than normal as she struggled to look up as her vision came back.

Her garments were gone, and just her chemise remained.

As her awareness flooded back to her, she felt her connection with her lower body return, and she did her best to kick and thrash with her one good leg and let out another enraged scream.

“I swear girl- shut your mouth!” She snapped, holding the knife up to her chin, the tip just under her jaw.

Nostrils flared; she breathed heavily for a time and clenched her jaw tightly as the pain in her leg began to return along with her awareness.

“Better, much better.” He chuckled before sheathing the knife. “Be a good girl for me, this won’t take long if you just hold still for’me.” He laughed before unbuckling his belt.

“Now,” He tossed his belt aside and gave her a smile that made her blood boil and eyes water. “How’s about you-”

A zip-like sound threw across the clearing and Natasha flinched as wetness sprayed her face and she closed her eyes briefly.

Opening them she stared into the man’s eyes, seeing blood trickling down his face as he sputtered before slumping onto her.

“Hey- Son of a bitch!”

Gun fire suddenly started, and Natasha scrambled out from under the body to hear the sound of thundering hooves around her.

Looking around frantically she noticed several mounted men as bullets flew in every direction and the yells and shouts of the people she was with as they all took cover and started firing.

Natasha scrambled onto her knees with a cry and with bound hands, headed for the tree line.

“She’s gettin away! Damn it Floyd, shoot her!”

She felt another zip and she cried and stumbled to the ground. Her arm burned like it had been lit ablaze.

Unable to check the damage Natasha scrambled onto her feet on her one good leg and hobbled further into the darkness of the tree line.

The gunfire died away as quickly as it had started.

“Go find her!” Natasha barely hears the statement over the sound of the rain starting to rustle the leaves on the trees as she continues to hobble before falling. She crawled to a large tree and hid behind it; her breath ragged and noisy. Her throat was tight, she was on the verge of tears.

Fast footsteps on the forest floor come into hearing range and draw closer but not close enough. Grabbing a thick branch from the ground, she held it tightly as she waited.

As the minutes passed, the footsteps got quieter. Trying to remain balanced she stumbled a step, the dead leaves crunching under her feet.

She held in a sob and continued to hold the branch readily, trying to hold her weight against the tree.

The patter of rain on the ground covering should mask the sound but the footsteps stopped and then began again, only to begin getting closer and louder.

She finally felt the footsteps coming up past the tree and she steps out and swings the branch with all her might.

It cracked against the face of the man, and he fell backwards to the ground, dazed from the hit.

Eyes catching the reflection of metal on the ground, she scrambled to snatch the fallen pistol from the man and once she had it, she heard more footsteps coming and stumbled to her feet with the pistol in hand and raised.

"Easy there, miss." One said, hands out towards her in a hesitant manner.

Between them the man she'd hit lay partially conscious as he slowly blinked and lifted a hand to his face.

"Get away from me!" She screamed, stumbling backwards as she cried, the injured leg emitting its own scream of pain as she struggled to remain standing.

The gun was heavy in her hands, and she fumbled to pull back the hammer with her bound hands as she cried.

"Miss we are not going to hurt you!" The same man urged.

She pointed the gun to the man on the ground who was now coming to his senses. He put his hands up hesitantly at seeing her pointing the pistol at him, but he seemed to quickly notice the uncocked hammer and gained confidence.

Slowly getting to his feet, she became more agitated and struggled harder to grip the weapon and ready it for firing as he towered over her at his full height.

"Miss, you're safe. Please-" The same dark-haired man who’d been doing all the talking proceeded. The words meant nothing to her as she continued to struggle.

Her wild eyes flashed between the three of them and the realization slowly dawned on her that none of these men had been at the camp. They were the ones who had ridden up and started unloading.

"Easy there," The one who'd been on the ground had his hands up cautiously as he contemplated a few steps closer to her.

He was out of arm's reach but not by much.

"Easy," She struggled to step back as he stepped forward.

The tears were flowing now as she tried to back up, only to stumble again as she began to fall. Before the ground came, she was caught by the individual closest to her; one hand snatched the gun away and the other wrapped around her shoulders to keep her off the ground.

"You're alright," He grunted as he pulled her upright, gun now holstered on his leg. She was crying openly now, unable to control it.

How many times would this happen? Why me!? Not even one damn month on my own- I’ll never make it out here.

The sound of a knife being drawn from a holster caught her attention, but before she could react to the noise the man in front of her began to cut away at the ropes binding her wrists together.

"Good work, son." The voice came from somewhere behind the man in front of her, the dark-haired one. "Hosea, would you go see about some layers back at that camp? She'll freeze before we get her outta here."

As he holstered the knife, Natasha looked at the man in front of her, eyes sweeping quickly over his features. He was younger; definitely twenties. Darker hair, but not as dark as the other man’s.

Getting just a glimpse from around the man in front of her, Natasha sniffled in a breath as she evaluated the other two.

There was the dark-haired one who'd spoken the most to her and light hair on the one who was now turning to walk back towards the camp. Both appeared older than this man in front of her, but she didn't know by how much.

Further contact to her wrists made her jump and try to yank her hands away on instinct but they were held steady.

“Easy there-” She looked down to see the man had pulled the ropes away and briefly rubbed his thumbs into the damaged skin. The action was almost soothing- she hated to admit it.

Her throat tightened as she hiccupped.

"There ya go," He mumbled quietly, eyes elsewhere as he seemed to be looking around the area.

"Arthur, let's get her back to camp, we need to regroup." The statement came from ahead of her as the dark-haired man spoke up again.

"You got it, Dutch."

She jumped a fraction as the man's voice in front of her returned to normal levels. He stepped back a bit and gestured a hand out for her to proceed forward to where the two others had walked off.

"Les' go," He nods ahead for her to go on.

Almost without thinking, she tried to walk forward and almost fell again. The abruptness made the man lurch forward to stabilize her, but she hobbled back, catching herself on a tree.

"I- I can't-" She choked on a sob as she struggled to balance herself, feeling oddly exposed now that her bound hands were free to swing about to keep her balance. "My leg-" She sputtered and sucked in a quiet breath to try and hold her cries in.

"Alright, c'mere." The man sighed and stepped forward.

She hesitated a moment as he held out an arm for her to meet him halfway. Without her permission her one good leg hobbled her forward. Her body stiffened on instinct, and she forced herself to lean into the stranger.

A whimper of surprise left her when he closed both arms around her, one on her back before he scooped the other under her knees and lifted her up.

She gripped his collar tightly and felt her eyes bore into the ground and as far from his face as she could.

In a matter of minutes, the atmosphere had changed, the company had changed, and she felt her body was unable to react in a non-hostile manner at this point.

With some trial and error on the stranger's part in navigating the dense undergrowth of the forest, and a couple minutes of a painfully quiet lack of conversation, Natasha saw the fire come into view and noticed the other two individuals talking quietly near camp. Bodies littered the clearing around the fire, and she stared at them quietly as they drew closer.

A satisfaction mixed with fear flooded her at the sight.

Letting her gaze move, she caught sight of the wagon across the fire where her bag was hung over the side.

“My things-” Her words left in a pained breath as she eyed her belongings.

“Where.” That came from next to her.

“Messenger- Th'messenger bag.”

She continued to eye her bag and blinked a few times to focus her sight. It didn’t.

She squeezed her eyes shut before trying again but it seemed even more out of focus.

"Think we might have a broke leg here, Dutch."

His voice sounded watered down, muffled almost. She blinked her eyes a few times again, finding the response delayed as she tried to stay aware of her surroundings.

“Well get her on a horse, the nearest town’s a couple hours off.”

“Bring her here, Arthur.”

The sound of hooves and a throbbing in her lower body was the next thing she noticed. She was on a horse. They were moving.

Attempting to lift her head she looked around, noticing the darkness around them. It was still night. She’d lost all concept of time. She didn’t know where she was.

“Almost there, dear.”

The unfamiliar voice came from directly behind her. She was in a saddle; someone was keeping her upright while simultaneously steering the horse she was sitting on.

“She ‘wake?”

“Barely.”

The weight of her eyelids was becoming unbearable as she tried to keep them open. Against her will they finally closed, and the beating of hooves slowly died away.

Author Note: If you got this far, thanks so much for your giving time!! All chaps will not be this long. There was just a good bit to unpack here!

If anyone ends up reading this, I'll make a taglist form, but for now just comment or message me if you'd like a tag and I will most definitely add you!

#red dead fanfic #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 fanfiction #red dead fanfiction #arthur morgan #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #red dead oc #rdr2 oc #red dead original character #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 dutch #rdr2 hosea #van der linde gang #red dead redemption fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #my rdr2 scribbles

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wing-ed-thing · 3 years

Text

Click (Part VI: Kiba)

Synopsis: You invited everyone out to dinner. You also audibly clicked. People had opinions about this.

Word Count: 1,555

Warnings: Language, Fem!Reader

Part I: Shikamaru, Part II: Shino, Part III: Neji, Part IV: Rock Lee , Part V: Naruto, Part VI: Kiba, FINALE, The Message in Click

Notes: Next part is the Finale. Excited?

You wouldn’t want him doing what he was about to do, but Naruto, quite frankly, didn't care. He thought long and hard about what you said to him the previous night and wondered if he was about to betray your trust. After long deliberation, he decided that the answer would be a dubious ‘no’. Kiba had been easy to find. He stood out in the open near an open ally with the rest of Team Eight. Hinata barely had time to get out a skittish greeting before Naruto violently shoved Kiba up against the nearest wall by his collar. Akamaru barked, but as Naruto scowled, the ninja hound quickly backed off.

“Nart, what the hell?” Kiba cursed, grabbing onto Naruto’s unyielding grip.

“Why would you do such a thing to one of our comrades?” Naruto demanded through gritted teeth and Kiba let out a resigned sigh.

“Look, I didn’t know it was her birthday, okay?”

“So you know what you did wrong!” Naruto shoved him harder into the wall behind him causing Hinata to cry out. She moved forward to rush to her teammate’s defense, but Shino’s arm jutted out in front of her. Hinata looked up at the Aburame, but didn’t spare her a glance. “What kind of scumbag ruins someone’s birthday dinner?”

“I didn’t know, okay? I didn’t, I swear.” Kiba held his hands up at the sides of his head, but Naruto wasn’t convinced.

“So you’re telling me that you weren’t going around the village convincing people to come to Yakiniku instead of Shushu-ya? Quit the bull—”

“Okay, enough,” Kiba shoved Naruto away. The jinchūriki stumbled back, nose scrunched in anger. “She happened to invite people to Yakiniku and I happened to invite people to Shushu-ya on the same day. Sure. But when did I convince anyone to ditch her? Please, take a second to think about it. Ask anyone you want because I never even once said that.”

And Naruto did take a moment to think. Kiba was right. Kiba didn’t talk to Shikamaru about dinner at all. Shino missed where to meet you and followed Kiba. Even then, he left partway through. Neji and Hinata chose to come to Yakiniku. Naruto and Sakura forgot you even asked them. He might have talked excitedly about dinner, but never did he mention you. Kiba only gave a second option and Naruto could at least see that much sincerity in his eyes.

“So you didn’t even stop to think why everyone was confused about which restaurant to go to?”

“Well, of course I did!” Kiba exclaimed, throwing his head back in frustration. “But you’re talking like I forced people to come with me. I didn’t. People could’ve chosen to not come and some of them didn’t.” He gestured to Shino, who stood silently and onlooking. His attention turned to Hinata, who flushed and turned her attention away. “And some people decided to come to Shushu-ya.” Kiba turned to face Naruto fully again. “If memory serves me right, Naruto, you were one of the ones who chose to come.”

“I was in the wrong.” Naruto huffed, his hands clenching at his sides. “You made no effort to correct people.”

“It wasn’t my problem to do that. Maybe I was the pushier one. Sue me, I wanted people to go to dinner with me! I don’t see how that’s my problem.”

“You don’t see how it’s your problem that you played a part in ruining someone’s birthday.” Naruto crossed his arms, standing firm in his confrontation. Hinata kept her gaze towards the ground, wondering whether or not she should excuse herself.

“You know what?” Kiba growled, “Maybe I played a part in all of this, but don’t come at me talking like I’m the bad guy ‘cause I sure as hell wasn’t alone in whatever this shit turned into. Sure, I don’t like her, but don’t act like you have all the information because you don’t.”

Kiba turned on his heel. Hinata and Shino parted, stepping to the side as their teammate stormed away. Akamaru followed his trainer.

***

For the second day in a row, a loud pounding came at your door. You answered it with a certain amount of perplexity, not used to having so many visitors. As soon as the door opened, Kiba let himself in. He huffed, marching into your studio apartment as you quickly dodged out the way of his determined path. Akamaru followed with his head low, sparing you a glance as apologetic as a dog could muster. You blinked and scrunched your brow.

“They let you take him up here—?”

“I’m not out to get you!” Kiba plopped down at your little table in the same spot that Naruto had sat the night before. You sighed and closed the door. Akamaru curled up around Kiba’s ankles. “I swear people think I’m wringing my hands in the dark thinking about the best way I can be an asshole.”

“I don’t think I know what you’re talking about.”

“Well what have you been telling people?” Kiba snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. Your lips formed a thin line. You silently asked yourself when it became your job to play therapist for confused shinobi to air out their grievances to, but you couldn’t help but feel a tug at your compassionate side. You could kick him out any time he started to get ornery.

“Kiba, I’m open to having a conversation with you, but you’re the one who let yourself into my home. You can either talk to me with respect or you can leave.” You stood, feeling more comfortable standing a few feet away in the kitchenette. He sat silently at your table, looking downward and radiating an air of irritation. His hand came to his temple as he let out another huff.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He yielded and his forearm fell lightly down to the hand surface under his elbow. Kiba threw his head back and you finally came to sit across from him. The atmosphere felt familiar to you. Silence. He wanted to talk, so you waited for him to speak. Kiba opened his mouth before closing it. He looked to the side, letting his tongue dart out over the edge of his lip. “I didn’t know it was your birthday, okay?” He dragged a thumb over his chin.

“I didn’t know it was yours either.” Kiba’s eyes shot up to meet yours.

“So we can agree that we felt somewhat the same.” You let out a slight chuckle, sitting back in your seat.

“That depends.”

“‘Cause I thought that you were just inviting people out like usual. I didn’t think twice ‘cause,” Kiba fiddled with the edge of his shirt. “I just wanted people to spend time with me. And now I have people coming at me—”

“I didn’t even know that you were inviting people until later. And even then, I wouldn’t let Shikamaru or Shino tell me any details. I didn’t want to know, so no kinda confession needed here.” You narrowed your eyes slightly. “You got that sorted out? I’d hate for Team Eight to be fighting. I didn’t want to butt in.”

“Yeah, it’s as sorted as I could make it,” Kiba nodded, “It was a misunderstanding but I don’t think that Shino really believes me.” He glared at you from the corner of his eye. “Why do you care?”

“You’re my comrade and so is Shino.”

Kiba leaned, both elbows folded on the table. He stared you sternly in the eye, teeth slightly clenched.

“You know that this doesn’t make us friends, right?” He questioned, gesturing to the space between you. You sat still, hands folded in your lap.

“I assumed. You’ve made your opinion of me very clear,” You admitted with a shrug. “It would be nice if we could get along but let’s be real, you’re not obligated to like me.”

“Or you me.”

“That’s true,” You nodded your head a few times, “I never said that I didn’t and I likely never would even if I did feel that way.” More silence. Kiba made no effort to rise from his seat. He stayed, pouting. Akamaru shifted underneath the table, his tail swishing across the floor. If you had had more important things to do, you wouldn’t have remained as patient as you did.

“I’m sorry if I, uh, if you were upset,” Kiba finally opted. “Uh, I guess I took advantage of the confusion. And I’m sorry if you heard about some of the things I said.” You could poke holes in that apology all day, but you knew that this would be the best you would hear. You stood.

“I accept your apology,” You said, making your way to the door. Kiba scrunched his forehead. You chose those words very carefully, but he still didn’t know they actually meant. You opened the door, turning to face him. “Are we done here?”

“So you believe me, that it was all a misunderstanding.” Kiba rose from his chair, palms on the table. You looked to the side with a sigh.

“I’d like to, and we’ll get there. I accepted your apology,” You hesitated. “I like to believe that people have good intentions. You always have a teammate here.” You opened the door a bit wider and Kiba saw himself out.

Notes: It would’ve been too easy to make Kiba a villain. Let’s be honest, seldom do people who hurt us go out of their way to target us. Sometimes anger comes out of misunderstanding. Sometimes people who are on our side make things worse. No one’s wringing their hands in the dark and acknowledging that maybe their actions may create a bigger issue. Be aware of others. Be honest with yourself.

Thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, and followed. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months

Text

By His Command 3

Summary: the commander arrives. (Handmaid AU)

Warning: this series will contain violence, dystopian aspects, rape and noncon, blood, coercion, possible pregnancy and other dark elements. Please read these warnings and beware.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Note: Thank you for reading! Also feedback and comments if you dont mind. Maybe a reblog. 💕💕💕💕

The martha comes to fetch you as the sky dims outside the iron bars. You follow her to the kitchen where she has a sparse array of produce. A few potatoes, some leeks, and a clove of garlic.

“You will help,” she says bluntly.

“Praise be,” you reply but receive only a sharp look.

“Peel,” she takes out a peeler and puts it before you. “We’ve had no handmaid, so a guardian delivers the produce. It is never enough.”

You nod and go to work. You drag the blade along the skin, stripping it away, and let it drop to the counter. You pick out an eye from the potato and set down the naked spud, grabbing the next. That martha chops with heavy, short thunks against the cutting board.

When you’re done, you gather up the skins. She points you to the bin and you dump them there. You rinse your hands and face her. She puts a pot on the stove, ignoring your expectant gaze. You don’t dare ask what to do next as you only feel in the way.

“We’ll do a stew, bake some fresh bread,” she instructs, “tomorrow, you will go to Loaves and Fishes so we can fill the pantry.”

“Praise be,” you agree. She sighs.

She dumps the ingredients all together in the pot, adding some pork bones for flavour in the broth and some rise to round it out. It’s better than what you got at the center but you won’t presume that you’ll share the same stock.

“Martha,” the wife enter’s in her blue dress. Long straight sleeves and cinched waist. You bow your head so your bonnet hides your face. She sidesteps you, shouldering you away without acknowledgement.

“Mrs. Hansen,” the martha falters, her previous derision gone.

“Toss the stew, we’ve received a duck from Commander Bodecker. You know he loves to hunt.”

She puts a crate on the counter. The martha reaches to slide it towards her and pulls back the cloth to peer inside. You look at your feet, wiggling your toes in your red socks.

“The Commander has returned,” the wife continues, “the table must be set.”

“I will have the handmaid do it,” the martha confirms.

“Pray that she can handle such a task,” the wife rebukes and sweeps around, strutting out without even a glance in your direction.

The martha reaches into the crate and pulls out the dead mallard. You wrinkle your nose at the mussed green feathers. You look away.

“Well, would you rather lay some spoons out or undress this?” She asks brusquely.

You go to the cupboards and pull a door open. You only find plain metal canisters. She comes over and shuts the door, opening the next to reveal the plates. You bring one down, then a second. She slides a drawer out.

“Take one for yourself. Three,” she instructs.

You wince and pull out another plate.

“When you dine with the Commander and his wife, you say nothing, you look at nothing but your plate, you eat only what they allow you,” she hisses.

“I understand.”

“If only you could.”

She counts out the cutlery and puts it atop the stack of plates.

“Napkins beside the stove. Wrap the silverware.”

You go to the drawer nearest the stove and find the pale white napkins trimmed with blue flowers. You add them to your lot and the martha points you through the archway that looks into the dining room. You hear her mutter as she turns back to the duck.

You roll up the cutlery tightly in the fabric. Like swaddling a baby. You go around, chair by chair, plate and cutlery.

As you arrange the last, only thinking then of the glassware, a soft noise brings your head up. A man in navy blue leans in the doorway. You did not hear him or sense him. You cannot guess for how long he’s been there but you can guess at his identity.

You dip your head down and step away from the table, “Commander.”

He breaks the threshold and strides around the other side of the table. You keep your chin down, jaw locked, as you listen, don’t look. The glimpse of his face floats in your vision. Tidy combed hair and shaved sides, a trim of hair across his lip, and handsomely forged features.

He stops behind a chair and you feel his gaze on you.

“Blessed be the fruit, Ofloyd,” he rolls the name on his tongue.

“May the Lord open,” you eke out.

He chuckles. You bite your lip. The only people who laughed were the aunts, and it often meant trouble. He grips the back of the chair.

“I am the lord’s agent but it will not be him who does the… opening,” he intones, his tone dripping salaciously. “So, Ofloyd, will you open yourself to me?”

You don’t know how to answer. This is not how the aunts speak; or the guardians; or the handmaids.

“Praise be,” you gulp.

He snickers and twists his grip on the back of the chair.

“You have no idea,” he slips a hand down, brushing along the front of his trousers, “praise, there will be.”

He growls and leans back on his heel. There is no time to respond. He is already on his way. As quickly as he appeared, he is gone again, leaving only dread and the scent of cedarwood.

#lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #the gray man #au #drabble #series #handmaid au #by his command

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clovers-in-despair · 4 years

Text

Hi! So, if you know me, you know I’m not the biggest fan of Danganronpa 3’s storyline. I won’t go into detail as to why in this post. Instead, I’m going to show off my Danganronpa 3 rewrite! It mostly focuses on the Despair Arc and then adding on to things like UDG, SDR2, and the Hope Arc. Please note this contains spoilers. I’ll write it in bullet points because it’s easy for me to get things down in this manner, especially since I don’t have every moment of every single day rewritten. Maybe one day I’ll write fanfiction for this! Forgive grammar n stuff, I’m super tired and just spewing my ideas out without structure. So hit that “keep reading” and let’s get this party started.

-In my rewrite, Chiaki Nanami’s punishment isn’t what pushed them into despair. Rather, Junko Enoshima played on everyone’s weaknesses and individually pulled them into despair. In some cases, she used those she already converted as pawns to drag down their fellow classmates. For example, I like to believe Junko played on Nagito’s desire to be loved. And eventually, Nagito understood what she was doing to him.. But rather than stop it, he let himself become despair because he couldn’t wait to see the hope that would be born from it. For another example, Junko might have pulled Mahiru into despair. In turn, Junko uses Mahiru to drag down Hiyoko. I like the idea of Junko’s analytic and manipulation skills being more relevant. A slow process of taking everyone down and hitting them in their weak spots feels more satisfying than everyone going down at once, in my opinion.

-Again, Chiaki Nanami’s punishment isn’t what pushed them into despair. Rather, it was a test. Junko uses Chisa as a puppet here, and Chisa is the one to subject Chiaki to her punishment. Think back to DR3, and how we saw Junko on all the screens as Chiaki navigated the death maze. Now, what if we saw Chisa there instead and narrating the entire thing? What could be more despairful than your own teacher putting you through this death trap? And of course, since I’m a sucker for angst, I like to imagine her classmates NOT watching on in complete devastation. What if they were basking in the feeling it gave them? Cheering on as Chiaki navigates her way through the maze…

-Now, remember in DR3 where we see Kamukura cry as Chiaki is dying? Remember how Hajime’s attachment to her caused Kamukura to subconsciously care for her? Now, this will come into play later. But let’s get back to Chisa Yukizome. What if Chisa had the same thing happen? A subconscious desire to.. Well, not see her die. So she leaves Chiaki with a very slight chance of survival. The footage of Chiaki navigating the maze cuts out before anyone really sees her die. Of course, the assumption of Class 77B would be that she IS dead.

-And here’s where Kamukura comes in. He subconsciously cares for her, though he does not know why. I like to imagine he saved her with his talents. And because he is neither on the side of hope or despair exclusively, Chiaki is now a new pawn in this “war” between hope and despair. Just something new to hopefully cure this boredom and bring something new to the table.

-Well, after treating her, he turns her loose. Keep in mind, a recovery like that doesn’t happen overnight though.

-Chiaki Nanami ends up in Towa City, and takes refuge in the Resistance. However, she joins under a new identity. Miyuki Watanabe. The fake name stems from the fear that she would be killed if her true identity is discovered, and people realize she is associated with the remnants who had faked their deaths and mistake her as a remnant herself. I tried to design a concept for Chiaki while trying to hide herself. A mask to hide her face, and she has longer hair due to not really getting much of a haircut lately. A wrinkled up shirt, and all that. She has grey bag with two things that are rolled up sticking out of the bags, perhaps posters of some kind.

-Chiaki eventually meets Komaru and Toko at the resistance camp under the name Miyuki, but she eventually reveals her true identity to them and what had happened to her until that point. Of course, Toko was skeptical of this at first but was talked into helping by Komaru. When Byakuya was eventually rescued, he tipped Makoto off to Chiaki’s presence in Towa City in their video call at the end of Ultra Despair Girls.

-Makoto is able to come to Chiaki’s rescue. Of course, once Chiaki is brought back, she’s met with lots of interrogation and DNA tests from other members of the Future Foundation prior to being held in a high security cell for precautionary reasons.

-She does end up receiving some grooming like a haircut and fresh clothes. She remains here until eventually Makoto asks for her assistance. He explains he intends to use the Neo World Program to reverse Junko’s influence on her friends, and asks her to help monitor her classmates’ behaviors from the outside, as she knows them all best.

Here’s Nanami after getting a haircut and some fresh clothes to wear. Of course, she still wears her signature jacket over these fresh clothes.

-And oh boy, seeing everyone’s faces on those monitors… hearing their voices again.. It both hurt her terribly and warmed her heart.

-Let’s not forget real-life Chiaki’s reaction to the AI within the program. Before I continue, please note Chiaki is traumatized and not quite the person she was back at Hope’s Peak.

-Seeing her AI within the program? It causes a bit of an identity crisis. Her AI does remind Chiaki of better days, however, she also feels envy and frustration towards it. She’s a little envious that the AI is there, interacting with her classmates and Hinata again the way she always hoped to do again. Frustrated, because sometimes the AI would respond in ways real-life Chiaki would have done differently. She has zero control over her own AI, by the way. So she can only watch it interact with everyone.

-Though once she learns why the AI is herself, she finds it to be bittersweet.

-But when the killing game begins, her world comes crashing down AGAIN. Still, she was told to continue monitoring the behavior of her classmates’ despite this.

-Might I add that AI Chiaki’s execution brought back some really, really terrible memories for real-life Chiaki?

-Rest assured, in the end, Chiaki was able to reunite with Class 77B and Hajime Hinata. And they all live on the real Jabberwock Island together.

-In my rewrite, Hajime’s relationships with others tumbles a bit as he comes overprotective over Chiaki, despite her insisting he doesn’t need to be. He worries greatly about her due to their past. The romantic feelings are still there between the two, but the interest in a romantic relationship is low as they both require lots of healing before they’re ready for this. Hiyoko remains on iffy terms with Fuyuhiko and Peko, while Mahiru does the opposite and repairs her relationships with them. Kazuichi is on OK terms with Gundham, and actually ends up falling for Mikan and they get together. Akane is oddly one of the first to be forgiving towards Nagito and they become friends, though I will add that Nagito is a little desperate for Hajime’s attention, which he has directed to Chiaki very heavily. Mahiru and Hiyoko remain besties. Fuyupeko is semi-canon. They acknowledge their feelings but neither has made a move. I’ll make a chart of everyone’s relationships with each other someday and tack it on with a reblog. Right now, it’s just me spewing out my ideas as I’m dead tired.

-Oh, and they provide relief to the world as a way of atoning for their sins. Sometimes their missions require everyone on the island! Other times, it requires a certain number or a certain talent. They’re just here to try and make the world a better place after all that has happened.

[Credit for Chiaki model in replies, hyper links eat my posts]

#clover's rambling #danganronpa #danganronpa au #danganronpa rewrite #chiaki nanami #nagito komaeda #makoto naegi #danganronpa spoilers #dr3 spoilers #GOD I HOPE THIS ALL MADE SENSE I'M SO TIRED but I thought of this stuff recently #SDR2

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

CSI: Rogers and Barnes The Serious Cereal Serial Killer

Prologue: Aye Aye Captain.

Series Intro: Captain Steve Rogers and Sergeant James ‘Bucky’ Barnes are hot on the tail of Brooklyn’s latest criminal- The Serious Cereal Serial Killer. Captain Rogers assembles the best officers from the Brooklyn 101 Murder Unit. This specialist team, nicknamed The Avengers, are working in the dark as the killer leaves behind no clues, other than their choice of murder weapon- whichever beige cereal he/she chooses.

The team are in a race against time as the bodies begin to mount. Can they catch the perp before it’s too late?

Episode Summary: There’s a lake, and Steve’s in a suit. Someone he clearly has feelings for appears and we get the impression that he may have done something a little bit dumbassy… Episode Warnings: Bad Language words. Dark Comedy themes. CSI:NY + Brooklyn 99 = CSI: Steeb!

Episode Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark (will they, won’t they, did they???)

Song for Episode: Alien by Cary Brothers

A/N: Inspired by THAT picture of Mr Evans on set in his suit by the lake, myself and @icanfeelastormbrewing put our heads together and we present to you CSI: Rogers and Barnes- The Serious Serial Cereal Killer. I really hope you’re ready because this is a journey into our very, very odd minds but we promise there is a decent plot underneath all our Avengers and Stark Spangled Banner Easter Eggs and jokes! You don’t need to have read that series to understand or enjoy this, but we’ve used the Universe to spin this from.

Our knowledge of American Policing is limited, so bear with us if we slip up, but at the end of the day this is a fiction so we’ll claim any mistakes as creative license!!

Episodes will be given individual warnings, summaries, pairings and songs so please pay attention to those.

PLEASE REBLOG and COMMENT!

Tags are open.

CSI Rogers and Barnes Master List

Main Masterlist

“Nice suit, punk.” Sergeant James Barnes smiled at his Captain, Steve Rogers, who sighed, dropping his hands to his hips.

“You’re a jerk, Bucky” Steve replied simply, eyeing his best friend through his Aviators, a small smile playing on his face.

“Ready for your big speech?” Bucky questioned.

Steve took a breath and looked around. It was a gorgeous, sunny May evening. The Lakehouse which had been hired by the NYPD for the Ceremony was full of people all milling around inside and out.

“Yeah.” he nodded “I think so.”

“Think so ain’t gonna cut it Steve.” Bucky chuckled “You got half the force out there. The Deputy Commissioner, the Commissioner…” “Buck, just don’t” Steve sighed “I’m well aware of who’s here, thanks.” “Well it’s hardly surprising…” Bucky said, taking a pull from his beer “It was a pretty big case. Thanos and The Children were terrorising Brooklyn for years. “And it was the 101that put him away.” Steve smiled “It was a good team effort.” “You gonna take that time out?” Bucky asked. Steve shrugged.

“I dunno.”

“You work too hard.” “Criminals don’t exactly take time out because we want to a holiday you know.” Steve said, looking at him. “I’m sure the Unit wouldn’t fall apart if you took a week out.” Bucky said “Stark’s right, you need to get a life man.” “Fuck you.” Steve shot back and Bucky snorted a laugh.

“Whatever.”

At that point, Deputy Commissioner Nick Fury approached them, and Steve nodded to him

“Sir.”

“They’re ready for you now Captain.” he said “You do your speech and then Senator Ross will join you on stage to hand out the Commendation to you and your Unit.” “Yes Sir.” he nodded.

“Knock ‘em dead Punk.” Bucky smiled, and Steve shot him one last look, before he took off his aviators and tucked them into his pocket, Bucky making his way to his seat.

He passed by the other members of his specialist unit, smiling as he went. Detectives Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff aka Clintasha on account of them hardly ever being apart, Patrol Officer Odinson, aka the Bungalow on account of him ‘not having much upstairs’ according to Bucky (which was ironic seeing a the guy was about 8 feet tall) and then on to his support staff- Tony Stark and Bruce Banner his forensic experts aka the Science Brothers, their Assistant Peter Parker, Sam Wilson, the lead Pathologist and Police Technician Wanda Maximoff.

After acknowledging them all, he walked up the steps to the stage to a round of applause and wolf whistles, and smiling he pulled his pre-written speech out of his pocket.

“Thank you.” he spoke into the microphone, squinting slightly against the sun “It’s my pleasure to welcome you to this celebration of achievement for the Brooklyn 101 and their efforts which led to the removal of a dangerous crime lord from our streets.” he paused as Clint gave a little cheer, followed by a shout.

“Go Avengers!”

More cheering and Steve smiled at his team before signalling with his large hands for them to settle down. As the noise died down he cleared his throat and glanced down at his notes again.

Bucky watched him, smiling to himself. Steve was good a public speaker, his ability to command an audience and simply make people listen was one of the many reasons he had risen through the ranks so quickly, alongside the fact that he had an impressive ability to manage people and a huge number of solved crimes to his name. Bucky was incredibly proud of his best friend. The tall, broad man on the stage was a far cry from that skinny little blonde haired punk he had grown up with, bailing out of fights constantly on the streets they had roamed as kids.

Steve caught Bucky’s eye, and his Sergeant flashed him a wink and he smiled before continuing.

“Months of hard work, long days and even longer nights went into putting Thanos away. And each and every single member of the 101 had a huge role to play. From Sergeant Barnes who commanded and led the team to Wanda who kept all our paperwork and reports water tight. No matter how meaningless you may have felt your contribution seemed on the outside, every single bit of it was influential in bringing Thanos to justice, and he I am over the moon to be able to thank you all for your efforts and service today.”

He paused and looked out and that was when he spotted her, gently weaving her way through the crowd that was stood up at the back of the seats. Not that it took much effort, he could have found those big green emeralds among millions of people. Her hair was different, not only shorter, but different. It curled round her left ear and her bangs swept across her face sweeping down and finishing in a longer point along the right hand side of her jaw. But those eyes were piercing through him the same way that they had always done. Steve had seen them shine with excitement, sparkle with laughter, darken with lust and close with utter bliss… he had also seen them water with disappointment and shrink with anger.

Just like they were doing now.

Steve had always been one for containment and keeping his emotions at bay, he was the righteous Captain everyone in his team looked up to after all and couldn't afford to let his emotions get in the way. At that moment though he struggled to focus on the page in his hands which he was surprised to find were shaking slightly. With a deep breath he steeled himself, cleared his throat and resumed his speech. Had he let that scrawny Brooklyn kid he once was come out, he would have stayed there slack jawed with nothing to say.

Bucky sensed something was off, he knew Steve too well not to notice. He turned around to follow his best friend gaze only to find a brunette young woman with gorgeous green eyes dressed in a sleeveless dark green cocktail dress adorned with little golden pineapples. Bucky turned back to the front and glanced at Natasha, whose sharp eye had also noticed Steve’s reaction. Bucky shrugged and motioned with his head to the back of the seats where the woman was stood. Natasha glanced back and her eyebrows shot up in surprise. She nudged Clint who turned to look, before he shared an imperceptible knowing glance with Natasha.

Ok, so they knew who she was. Bucky still had no idea.

When Steve finished his speech and the crowd erupted in a big round of applause, Senator Ross approached his spot on the stage and handed out the Commendation, giving Steve a brief hug and pat him on the back. Steve then showed it to his team mates who were now stood, cheering him from the front row under the stage and that was when Bucky saw Katie approach Tony, dropping a kiss to his cheek. As he looked at the faint resemblance between the two, understanding suddenly flooded his system. This had to be Katie Stark, the youngest child of the late Commander Howard Stark, Steve’s one time boss and mentor.

As Steve was dragged to the side for photos with the Senator and Chief, he continued to watch the unit out of the side of his eye. Tony said something to Katie’s ear as his arm curled round her shoulders and that smile Steve would have died for threatened to spread across her pretty face. Steve swallowed, and allowed himself to be rearranged for more photos with the Senator and Chief, before all to soon he was being dismissed to leave the spotlight to mingle with his friends to celebrate.

Get yourself together Steve, you can do this.

He took a moment to inhale deeply and give himself a pep talk, before he drew himself tall and walked over to where the members of the 101st .and Katie were.

As he approached he saw Thor sweep Katie into a huge hug and drop a kiss to her cheek. "Little Stark, you look fantastic. It's good to see you." "You too big guy" she grinned before she stepped forward to hug Clint and Natasha, her one time team mates "and you two." Steve shuffled uncomfortably, his collar and tie felt real tight. His hands slipped into his pockets and he rocked to and fro on the balls of his feet, a little tick he had whenever he got nervous. One that didn’t go unnoticed by Bucky.

"Not that we're not happy to see you but...what you doing here?" Clint asked, releasing her. "Was on a rare few days off and came to visit Tone" she said, smiling at her brother. "He insisted I come...share your success. Was a pretty big case you guys smashed." "Well me and Bruce were the ones that actually linked him to 30 crimes forensically but I don’t wanna brag..." Tony quipped and Katie rolled her eyes. "And he’s so modest about it too." Bucky grinned, flashing a huge smile at the girl in front of him "James Barnes, Bucky." "Pleasure to finally meet you Bucky." She smiled "I heard a lot about you. I'm Katie, Tony's sister." "You're Howard's daughter?" Bucky cocked his head to one side and she nodded. "Your dad was a legend. Sucks what happened to him and your mom. Choking on fondue...no way to go." "Thanks. He was good man." Katie said. And then her eyes flickered to the blonde Captain who took a deep breath as her green eyes grew colder. "Hi Katie" he said softly.

"Captain Rogers." Her reply was a little curt, and it cut him to the bone that she could be cold towards him, especially after everything they had been through over the past almost 10 years. But deep down he couldn't blame her. He had been a total jerk. He deserved her indignation.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Good thank you.” she said.

“I hear you made Sergeant.” he said, and she nodded.

“Yeah, month or so back.” “Congratulations, you deserve it.” “Yeah, thanks, err…” She turned to Tony “Any chance we can get a drink, I’m gasping.” “For you kiddo, anything. Anyone else want one?”

Pretty much the entire unit nodded and they headed off to the bar leaving Steve and Bucky alone.

“Ok…” Bucky turned to his friend “What the fuck was that about?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Steve sighed, looking back at him.

“Bull crap.” Bucky shot back “I thought you and here were fiends. When I was in Russia, for 5 years all I got was emails and shit telling me about her and what you’d been up to…now she looks like she wants to kill you.” Steve snorted “She probably does.”

“Wait, did you…” Bucky frowned, before his mouth fell open “You did didn’t you! You slept with Howard’s daughter!” “Shhhhh keep your voice down.” Steve hissed.

“Was that before or after he died?” “Bucky shut up.” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head, looking at his friend.

“Does Tony know?”

Steve gave a derisive laugh “Do you think I’d still be alive if he did?”

“Good point, he’d have probably designed some kind of murder-bot to kill you in your sleep…” Bucky mused. “You sly little punk, I didn’t know you had it in you. Well, she had it in her more like, but that’s by the by…”

“Buck, I swear to God…” Steve’s nostrils flared at his friend’s crassness and Bucky gave a howl of a laugh.

“I’m just toying with ya Stevie…I’m impressed. She’s hot.”

“Not a word.” Steve glared at his friend as the unit started to make their way back, various beers and glasses of wine clutched in their hand.

Bucky mimed a zip closing across his mouth and smiled, slightly surprised as Natasha handed both him and Steve a beer.

“Thought you might need a drink.” Natasha said quietly to Steve, shooting him a knowing look as Clint did the same. Steve groaned, he should have known. Nothing got past Clintasha. He swore the pair of them had been fucking spies or secret agents in a past life.

“So Katie…” Clint turned to the youngest Stark. “How’s DC?”

She smiled “I love it. It’s a beautiful place. Not home though.” “She misses me.” Tony interjected and Katie slapped him on his shoulder, rolling her eyes.

“Like a hole in the head.”

Bucky laughed “What made you move over there?” he asked, ignoring the deep breath of annoyance from Steve to his left.

“Well, I wanted my Sergeant stripes” she said, nonchalantly “I was told there was no progression available in the 101st so imagine my chagrin when they replaced me with one.” Steve bristled slightly but he didn’t reply.

“Wait…I was your replacement?” Bucky frowned, looking at Steve.

“It wasn’t like that.” Steve said gently “The budget for a sergeant was only provided to me after you left Katie.” “Sure.” she shrugged “Anyway, it’s irrelevant now. The position in the SHIELD unit was too good to turn down so…” “Yeah you guys got a good result on the Mandarin Case.” Peter Parker looked at Katie

“It was hard going…” she nodded “I was undercover pretty much for a month, hence the haircut.” “Ha Steve knows all about being undercover….” Bucky snorted

“Shut up.” Steve said.

“What?” Bucky looked at him innocently “I was merely referring to your impressive moustache man…” Steve gave a groan as the unit began to laugh.

“As part of the Thanos op, Steve had to infiltrate the gang.” Tony looked at Katie who was frowning, not understanding the reference. “He basically shaved his beard off but left this God awful tache…he looked like a 1970s German Pornstar.” Katie snorted “Beard murdering…” she looked at Steve who simply shrugged giving her a small smile.

“Yeah well its coming back.” he shrugged, gently stroking his chin where there was a faint smattering of stubble.

“Hmmm.” she made a small noise, and then looked around, and smiled with a wave as Deputy Fury caught her eyes “Excuse me guys, I’ll be back in a moment.”

Steve watched her leave before he turned back to his team listening to their conversation. But he couldn’t focus. Just seeing her again was enough to send his head into an absolute whirl. She looked amazing, not that she hadn’t always. Maybe it was the fact he hadn’t seen her for 5 months that was making it worse. But all he could remember was her touch, the way her head would rest against his chest when he hugged her, the smell of her shampoo, the softness of her hand when she would take his…and then the feel of her lips on his, the smoothness of her skin…

Fuck! He had been a grade A jack ass.

Steve took another long pull from his bottle of Stella and looked around. Katie was just finishing a conversation with Fury and Pierce, before she excused herself and headed for the bar after shaking hands with both men.

Now or never, Rogers…

"I’m, err, going to get a refill..." speaking for the first time as he showed his team mates his almost empty beer bottle, "be right back."

“Course you are…” Bucky mumbled, as he watched Steve slope off. He turned to Natasha.

“So what’s the deal…” he asked, dropping his voice and turning side on to face her so that Tony wasn’t looking. “I mean I kinda figured something went down but…” “Well we don’t know for sure…” Natasha said “But they went home together after the Christmas party in December. Was a long time coming, they’d been dodging around each other for years.” “Yeah, both dating other people when it was clearly obvious they were head over heels for one another.” Clint added.

“But it got frosty. Like real frosty and she put in for a transfer request.”

Bucky sighed and looked over at Steve who was now stood by the woman. Stevie had always been useless with women, Bucky had all the luck in that department when they were growing up. That was until Steve went to University and discovered the Gym and signed up for an experimental Nutritional Programme called ‘Operation Rebirth’. 3 months later Steve’s physique had changed dramatically. Gone was the lanky, twig thin kid and in his place was a stocky, ripped, 6ft 2 adonis. Frankly it had put Bucky’s nose well out of joint as the women flocked around him. But he needn’t have bothered, he was still as fucking hopeless has he always had been,

And seemed he still was.

“What?” a voice said, and Bucky turned to see Tony stood there, looking at them, his brown eyes flashing as he glanced from Natasha to Clint and then to him.

Shit.

****************

When Steve reached the spot by the bar where Katie was waiting patiently for her Martini to be served (made with gin, obviously, he recalled as he had bought her enough- I’m not a heathen, Steve…) he gently touched her forearm and she turned around slowly with a sigh to face him. Steve know she had sensed his presence even before he touched her, she always could. Many years of friendship did that to you.

"Are you avoiding me?" he asked lightly.

"Does that surprise you?" she replied looking at him directly in the eyes.

"No, not really." he said looking shyly at the grass beneath his shiny black oxfords. With a sigh he looked back up, straight into those deep green orbs "Look, Katie, I hate how we ended things, I..."

"How WE ended things?" she cut in, "Are you for real? I didn't end anything, Steve, because there wasn’t actually anything to end was there? You made sure of that!"

"I'm sorry, Katie, I truly am." he spoke again.

"Sorry for what exactly?" she fired back.

She was pissed. He could sense it in the rising tone of her voice and the way her eyes seemed to squint in the way they always did when she was winding up for an argument. He had to do something before they attracted too much attention and Tony made an entrance.

"Look, can we maybe go for a walk by the lake?" he looked at her, his eyes pleading. "We can talk and errm..."

She sighed "Fine." and with that she started to make her way through the rest of the people at the reception heading towards the calm water. Once they reached a spot under a tree near a small jetty she stopped and turned to look at him.

"What do you want, Steve?" she asked shielding her eyes with her right hand from the sun that was beginning to set.

"To check in. I care about you, Katie" he answered looking at her with an almost apologetically.

"So, you care about me.” She snorted “That's rich."

"Of course, I do!" he almost yelled. "We've been best friends for what, almost ten years?"

“Were, Steve.” she stared at him, “Past Tense…”

He took a deep breath and looked away, the lump in his throat growing even larger. Her words feeling like a slap in the face, but he wasn’t sure exactly what else he had expected. Things hadn’t been the same. They hadn’t actually spoken since she had left for DC. And he was the reason she had left, regardless of how she dressed it up and pretended otherwise to everyone else.

He looked back at her, and saw her eyes. They bored right through him, a mixture of anger and melancholy.

He had to try and fix this, he had to….

“Look, Katie, I know you must hate me..."

"Steve..." she said putting a hand over his forearm, before pulling it back immediately, almost like it had been an involuntary reaction. And the fact she wasn’t comfortable showing him that type of friendly affection anymore made him feel even shittier than he already did. "I..." she was fumbling with the words and he remained silent whilst he waited for her to gather her thoughts. “You know what, you’re right, I did hate you. I hated what you did but…you know what the worst thing about all of this was?”

He looked at her waiting for her to continue.

“Was that I mostly hated myself" she finished quietly, her voice beginning to break and she looked away.

Steve was aghast at her statement. "Wha... what do you mean?" he asked stuttering. He wasn't prepared for something like that. Over the last few months his mined had conjured thousands of possible conversations and things she would say to him when they finally met each other again…but not that.

"I hated myself for letting you in, Steve" she inhaled deeply before looking back at him and continuing, trying to keep the tears at bay. "You knew how long it took me to get over Grant, you knew what that bastard did to me because you were there, you were my best friend. You wiped my tears, held me when I cried myself to sleep, you helped me pick up the pieces of myself, told me I was worth more. But then, when it came down to it…I clearly wasn’t, not to you anyway.”

Steve couldn't stand her gaze and looked down to his shoes, jaw clenching. "Katie, I..." he started to speak but did he know what to say?

"Let me finish, let me say this, Steve, please." she pleaded. "I trusted you, you knew how I felt about you, and you know how much it took to tell you that and let you in…" she swallowed hard "You broke through every goddamned wall I put up around me and what’s more, you broke me too."

"Breaking your heart was never my intention, doll" was the only thing he managed to say, swallowing thickly. He didn't even know how he could have possibly formed those words in his brain and actually uttered them, he was numb and wanted to tell her she meant so much to him, so much more than she could ever imagine…but the words just wouldn’t come.

"But you did." she said quietly, tears now threatening to spill. "And I need time to heal, Steve. There’s not going back from what happened. We can’t just go back to being best friends and hanging out…it doesn’t work like that.”

“Kiddo?” They both jerked a little at Tony’s voice as he approached. She hastily wiped at her eyes and Steve stood back, taking a deep breath. “You two alright?” “Yeah, just catching up.” Katie said, smiling at Tony.

“Huh, that what they call it?” Tony said, his voice somewhat steely and Steve felt himself blanche. He turned to Tony but before he could say anything, the man’s fist had connected with his face, cracking his nose, making him reel backwards.

“Tony!” he heard Katie say, loudly, and as Steve recovered from the blow he looked up to see her stood with her hands on his chest, pushing him away gently.

“I can’t believe you, you son of a bitch!” Tony was spewing, glaring at Steve. The Captain was relieved to see that Bucky and Thor were hastily making their way over. They were well enough removed from the crowd for this not to be seen, thankfully.

“Stark…” Thor said in his deep breath “Come on, calm down…” “Calm down, calm down?” Tony’s face contorted with fury “I just find out, he slept with my sister, and then…”

“I’m a big girl Tony.” Katie said gently “I don’t need you fighting my battles for me, not like I did when we were kids…”

“I knew there was a reason you ran off to DC, and all the time it’s been him!” he said, looking at her, before he glared back at Steve. “You’re a piece of shit, Rogers…”

Steve waved off Bucky who had stepped forward to check he was ok.

“Come on…” Katie said, pushing Tony’s chest, “Time we left…” With that she turned to Thor and Bucky, gave them both a smile before she locked eyes with the Captain “Bye, Steve" she said turning around and beginning to walk away with Tony. Steve could do nothing else but watch as she walked out of his life for the second time in less than 6 months.

“I’m sorry” Bucky looked at his friend as he wiped at his bleeding nose with a handkerchief. “He overheard me and Natasha and…”

“I’m surprised it’s stayed a secret as long as it has.” Steve sighed “I deserved it, he’s right, I am a piece of shit.”

“We all do stupid shit bud.” Thor said, “Doesn’t make us bad people.” Bucky looked at Thor “That’s pretty smart for you.”

“I have my moments.” Thor shrugged, before he frowned “Unless you’re my brother, of course. He is inherently bad…but that’s another story.”

There was a pause, and then Bucky looked at Steve.

“Think you need another drink.” he said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ll go grab you one.”

Steve smiled, knowing full well it was Bucky’s way of saying “I’ll give you a moment…”

His friend squeezed his shoulder before he turned and walked away leaving Steve stood, looking out across the lake. The tall blonde stood there, mulling the conversation they’d just had over and over in his mind. He knew he’d hurt her but now he understood the extent of that, he hated himself even more.

Steve Rogers was a man of honesty and principles. A man who believed that you faced up to your actions and took the consequences whatever they were, not merely hid from them. But here he had gone against every single thing he stood for. He’d let Katie walk away all those months ago without so much as a fight. Because it was easier, easier than being honest and explaining why he had done what he had done.

If time travel was possible, he’d go back and do everything differently.

@the-omni-princess @momobaby227 @geekofmanythings16 @angelofhell-666 @thewackywriter @marvelfansworld @cobalt-gear @asgardlover75 @jennmurawski13 @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie @navispalace @patzammit @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @djeniiscorner @ayamenimthiriel @coldmuffinbanditshoe @disneylovingal @madzmilllz @sgtjaamesbaarnes @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @southerngracela @goldenfightergir @kellymat @official-and-unstable-satan

#csi rogers and barnes #the serious cereal serial killer #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers #bucky barnes #tony stark #clint barton #natasha romanoff #thor #bruce banner #wanda maximoff #nick fury #sam wilson #peter parker #csi au #alternate universe #avengers #avengers fanfiction

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scapegrace74-blog · 4 years

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Saorsa, Chapter 27

A/N Here is the next installment of Saorsa. Jamie finally acknowledges what we knew all along, and Claire takes a bath.

Rather than link to all previously posted chapters, I’ll just direct those of you wanting to catch up on your Saorsa-reading to my AO3 page, where the fic is posted in its entirety.

Thank you to each of you liking and reblogging! It does my little fanfic writer’s heart good.

Shearing sheep hadn’t changed much in two hundred years, Jamie thought as he hefted another startled ewe from the shearing pen and pinned her to the ground with a well-placed knee. Murtagh mentioned that some of the larger farms used a mechanical trimmer, but they both preferred the time-honoured method of metal shears, sharp as daggers. Today was their third day. Jamie’s shoulders and arms were throbbing from the constant effort, but they were almost done.

“Tis good fortune we’re having a bonnie spring,” Murtagh commented as they broke for a drink of fresh water from the well.

“Aye. I need tae be on the road wi’in the week, if I’m tae be back a’fore the bairn arrives.”

“I’m surprised the mistress is allowin’ ye tae go at all, wi’ the way she fusses o’er ye like a wee whelp.”

Jamie’s mouth opened and closed, trying to find words to defend his masculine honour against the truth in the old man’s claim. He caught the twitch of Murtagh’s lips through his heavy beard. He cuffed him on the shoulder, laughing at himself.

“She’s lining ‘er nest, ye ken. I reckon she needs me tae practice upon, a’fore the we’un gets here,” he quipped.

“Oh, aye. I’m sure tha’s it.” Murtagh’s sarcasm was so thick, you could serve it on toast.

Jamie groaned as he lowered himself into the armchair in their bedchamber, trying to reach down to untie his laces and failing miserably.

“Here, let me,” Claire offered, before realizing she couldn’t bend over the growing bulk of her belly.

“We’re a fine pair. I’m too lame and ye’re too big a’bout the middle.”

“Speak for yourself,” his wife retorted as she carefully lowered herself to the floor. She gently eased off each boot, then proceeded to unbutton and draw his trews down as well. He sighed and cupped her jaw as she began to gently knead the bunched muscles of his thighs.

“Careful, Sassenach. Ye wouldna want tae start somethin’ ne’er of us is in fit condition tae finish,” he warned, feeling himself stir despite his bone-deep exhaustion.

“Wouldn’t I?” Warm eyes gleamed up at him. And then, more gently, “Lean back.”

Unsure what was being asked of him, he complied by letting his back fall against the cushions, his long legs stretched on either side of where Claire knelt on the floor. Having never accustomed himself to the modern notion of underclothing, he was naked from the waist down and hardening quickly below the flimsy hem of his linen top.

Leaning forward so that her moist breath seeped between the buttons of his shirt and over the fine hairs of his belly, Claire began to run her hands languorously up and down his legs, reaching higher with each pass.

“Sassenach,” he warned, and then more urgently, “Claire.”

“Shhhh,” she whispered, before her fingertips brushed against his baws.

“Christ!”

“I’ve never done this before,” she murmured, as though speaking to herself. “Tell me if… well… if it doesn’t feel good.”

And before he could wonder what she meant, she was lifting his shirt, exposing his very emphatic endorsement of whatever she was planning. A tentative moist swipe against the head, where it lay aching against his quivering belly, and then a sensation unlike anything he’d ever experienced. It was the humid welcome of her sex combined with the nimble manipulation of her fine-boned hand, and yet so much more than the sum of those parts. A lightning bolt of sensation shot up his spine, lighting the back of his eyeballs with colourful explosions. A senseless groan burst from his lungs.

Between the exertions of shearing and the elaborate logistics of making love to a woman almost eight months with child, it had been nearly a week since he’d last lain with his wife. A lifetime, in the bountiful feast that marked their newborn marriage. He wasn’t certain it would have made much difference, though. Anything that felt this absurdly good was certain to be over soon, lest it kill him with pleasure.

As it was, it was mere minutes after first feeling her mouth around him before he knew the end was nigh.

“A dhia. Sassenach. Mo nighean donn. Christ, please, ye must…”

Whatever pleas he was trying to utter were lost to the onrush of his release, racing from his body with the force of a gale, whipping around to slam his head backwards as he groaned in blissful agony.

When he was next able to focus, Claire was carefully unbuttoning his shirt. She extended her hands so that he could help her to her feet. He rose as well, naked and blushing to the tips of his ears. Whatever had just happened, he felt compelled to apologize, if only he could do so without alluding to the actual event.

“Sassenach…” he began.

“Let’s get you washed up, shall we? It’s been a long day.”

He was still new to the art of reading his wife’s unspoken wishes, but this one was plain enough. She did not want to discuss or debate the propriety of what they’d just done, probably a bit shy herself. They would leave it here in the murky shadows of their bedchamber, where it could visit with the other nameless wonders they’d released inside its walls. He followed her docilely from the room.

One modern amenity Jamie had absolutely no qualms about embracing was indoor plumbing, and the associated boon of having a bath whenever a bath was needed or desired. Claire lit thick-trunked tapers in the washroom, formerly a servant’s room adjacent to the laird’s quarters. Bent over the billows of steam that rose from the gushing copper pipes, she reminded him of a painting of a water nymph he’d seen as a boy, all translucent skin and bonnie curls.

He gingerly lifted his legs over the high-backed tub and grimaced as the water seared his skin.

“Too hot?”

“Nah. Jus’ right.” He extended his hand gallantly, as though assisting a lady from her carriage. “Join me?” he offered, before adding, “If ye dinna think it immoral.”

Something about the scene struck them both as a trifle ridiculous, and they snickered.

Claire slipped her nightgown over her shoulders, letting it puddle around her feet, before carefully stepping into the water, holding onto Jamie for balance.

“Now what?” she challenged, eyebrow raised.

“Now I hold onto ye. Ye and the little one.” They sunk together into the steaming water.

She found a resting spot between his legs, forehead tucked under his jaw. Jamie amused himself by scoping up palmfuls of water and letting them loose to roam across the hills and valleys of her torso. Time slowed, as did the vigilant beating of his heart. The water cooled and one by one the tapers guttered, and still they did not move. It was in those peaceful moments, with nothing but the silky stroke of water, the honey whiff of candle wax and the quiet stirrings of a new life beneath the taut skin of her belly, that he realized he loved her. Not in the demure, fitting way that a man was meant to love his wife. But in a pivotal, essential way that was as integral to him as breathing and as endless as the tides.

“Ye’ll watch o’er her? Make certain she is no’ rebuildin’ the castle nor tilling the fields by hand, or whate’er stubborn notion settles in her hard heid?”

Murtagh had heard this request, or others very similar, every day for the past fortnight. It spoke to his forbearance that he produced his standard response without a flicker of exasperation.

“Aye, lad. I canna promise ye she willna be stubborn, but I’ll see her safe.”

It was the best he could hope for, and the primary reason Murtagh was staying behind at Lallybroch rather than accompanying Jamie on his journey to Galashiels, much to Claire’s vocal displeasure. She only acquiesced when it was agreed that Rupert would join him as far as Edinburgh, ostensibly to visit relatives. Jamie had an opinion on the true reason for Rupert’s sudden interest in leaving the Highlands for the first time, but he wouldn’t be sharing it with Murtagh.

Fourteen bales of wool were loaded carefully into the estate’s hay wagon. Weighing over a tonne, it would take both Clydesdale plow horses to drag the load over two hundred miles to Galashiels, near the border with England. Rupert would drive the wagon while Jamie rode his favourite horse, Donas.

The smoothest, most direct route southward was available to them only after nightfall, when motorized traffic was forbidden on the roadways on account of the blackout. That meant they’d do most of their travelling by night, which posed its own challenges. In addition to a small bag of provisions and spare clothing, Jamie was also armed with a dirk and a pistol, though he longed for the familiar heft of his broad sword.

The whole trip should take two fortnights, a little less than a month. The plan was to leave immediately after Easter, so he could be home by late April with time to spare before the Duke of Sandringham’s visit and Claire’s confinement.

In the early morning hours the day before his departure, Jamie crept out of the castle while everyone was still abed and walked up the hill to his parents’ graves. He was pleased to note that the exertion no longer winded him; that he had regained his previous strength. He owed that to Claire; that and so much more. She had given him back his freedom when he thought he was trapped in amber. Offered him a place to stand when every other foothold was lost. She was his redemption. Saorsa.

He knelt beside the graves, now cleaned of moss with bluebells sprouting between the stones. Resting his forehead against the cool stone, he began to pray. That Claire might be safe. That the bairn be healthy. That his voyage be swift and without peril. And selfishly, that he be the kind of man his parents would be proud of in this strange new world.

#my writing #outlander

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melonkooky · 4 years

Text

urs [jeon jungkook]

requested

word count: 4346

genre: angst and a little bit of fluff (if you can call it that), friends with benefits, fuckbuddies!au

warnings: mentions of suggestive content (i don’t write smut so this the scenes aren’t detailed or anything), mentions of drinking, cursing, cheating and toxic exes

author’s note: this one shot was requested to be based off of the song “urs” by niki. i’ve never heard of her or this song, so i had to listen to it a few times. i based the one shot more off of the lyrics tho. anyways, this is a one shot that is a little different from what i normally write, but nevertheless, i hope you guys still like it. (also, as i always say, please ignore any mistakes).

please do not copy my work. but please like and reblog it. thank you!!!!

slick wit, lip lick, and we sleep in our skin fast as i give in (right into you) too deep, too fast, too now i can't move 'til you call and tell me to

you excitedly dragged your best friend by her hand into the nightclub. your heart was beating out of your chest as you and her were granted access. she was laughing at your excitement and eagerness. you practically lived here. you knew all of the staff and a lot of the regulars too. that’s how you met your best friend, minnie. she had been dancing near the bar and you had tripped on someone’s foot. you accidentally spilled an oddly blue colored drink on her. both of you still laugh about it this day.

you loved this nightclub in particular. sure it was full of drinking (and occasionally someone would sneak drugs in, but that’s where you draw the line) and sensual dancing, but to you, you always felt free. you felt like you wouldn’t be judged for anything. you could dance and sing and drink without another care for the world.

the way music coursed through your veins was addicting. the atmosphere, the darkness, the neon lights that flashed and flickered in a series of colors, highlighting everyone’s smiling faces, you don’t think you would ever stop coming to this place.

sometimes, you liked to see all the new people that come. you could always tell when they’ve never been there before. compared to the regulars, they seem out of place. they look over their shoulder constantly, or can’t get themselves to go to the dance floor. they look at everyone’s faces, eyes wide. they just don’t fit in. it takes a little bit to get comfortable.

and that was how you met him.

you left minnie by a boy that she’s been seeing frequently on the dance floor. minnie was falling in love with him, and she always asked you if you knew if he would be there. and you would always say that you had no way of telling.

you didn’t go to this nightclub to find a soulmate or a one night stand. you went to let loose, to have fun, to dance the night away. however, when you got to the bar, you felt a pair of eyes on you. it was nothing you weren’t used to, but you felt compared to meet their gaze.

his gaze was a bit shy, but his eyes were strong. you couldn’t help but hold his gaze, even when you began to feel your cheeks grow hot. the way the flashing lights cast a series of shadows on his face, the formation of his lips, the way his eyes seemed to twinkle, even in the darkness. before you knew it, you forced yourself to look away, hurriedly grabbing your drink and disappearing.

your breathing was fast, and you were confused about why you were acting like that. why was your heart beating so fast? and why were you blushing? he was hot, attractive, and the way he looked at you, you couldn’t get it out of your head.

suddenly, minnie was wrapping her arms around yours, almost spilling your drink in the process.

“y/n!” she sang happily.

her tone of voice brought you out of your daze.

“hm?”

“he asked me to come home with him.”

her smile was brighter than the sun, and you felt happy for her, but that didn’t stop the worry. “are you sure? i can still take you-”

both you and minnie glanced at your drink.

“trust me,” she said, “he’s not one to drink. i’ll be okay.”

you pursed your lips and nodded. although you didn’t want to be left alone, you knew how badly minnie wanted this guy. you’ve seen him many times, everytime you were with minnie that is, and he did seem like a nice guy. and you trusted minnie with your life, with your deepest and darkest of secrets. “alright.” you said, pressing a kiss to her cheek, “text me later.”

and she was gone, her… whatever he was to her… leading the way.

as you stood near the door, suddenly feeling lonely, there was a tap on your shoulder. you turned to see the very boy who’s face and eyes seemed permanently imprinted into your brain. “oh, h-hi.”

he smiled. “hey.”

“is this your first time?” you asked him, sipping your drink.

he glanced down at the floor, nodding, “is it obvious?”

you shrugged. “it’s just something that i notice.”

“do you come here often?”

you nodded, a smile forming with your lips. “it’s kinda my go to place.”

he leaned against the wall with his shoulder, eyes looking around. “why?”

you looked at him, wondering if you should be sharing such personal things. but you thought, why not? maybe something could come out of this.

“i come here to let go of all my worries and stress. or just to have fun, be free. it’s my happy place. i love everything about it.”

he nodded.

“so,” you started, “what’s your name?”

he met your eyes again, and you found yourself getting lost in them. you almost didn’t catch his name.

“jeon jungkook.”

“y/n. did you come here with anyone?”

he glanced towards where the crowd of dancers were, looking down. you and him were standing on a balcony that overlooked the dance floor in the center of the room. it was quite a view.

jungkook pointed to a group of people. “those are my friends.”

“wow, you’ve got a lot of friends.”

he smiled, and you felt yourself smiling too, staring at him. “yeah. how about you?” he asked, leaning closer to you.

you felt your breath hitch in your throat as his face grew closer to yours. your cheeks were radiating crazy amounts of heat. and your stomach was twisting and somersaulting in all sorts of places. “my best friend just left, so i’m actually alone. which i know should be bad in a place like this, but i feel at home here, i guess you can say.”

“i admire that.”

“why?”

“most girls feel at home at a coffee shop, or the library. not a nightclub.”

“then i’m not like most girls.”

you looked down at your drink, swirling it around slightly. you were smiling to yourself.

“can i kiss you?” the stranger asked out of the blue.

you looked up, eyes wide with surprise. “hm?”

he was blushing and smiling, but it was a mischievous kind of smile. jungkook stepped closer to you. you kept your feet planted into the ground, not exactly not wanting to kiss him. “why?” you asked.

“because you’re beautiful.”

with that, you stood up on your tiptoes and placed your lips on his. you kissed him, but it was quick, before you pulled away. your grinned, tugging your bottom lip between your lips. “is that what you wanted?”

he eyed you carefully, smiling, before cupping your cheeks and pulling you closer. the kiss had more force to it, but it was passionate, considering that you and jungkook were strangers. you melted into him, not even thinking twice about who this man could be. you knew this was dangerous. he could be a kidnapper, a criminal, someone who liked to trick or cause pain. but your gut was telling you otherwise, and his gentle grasp on your cheeks told you that he had no intentions of performing any crimes.

it wasn’t long before he was pulling away, his lips barely touching yours, lingering. you felt hot suddenly, like the room was caving in on you. or like everyone was disappearing, leaving you with jungkook.

when he pulled away, jungkook opened his eyes, gazing into yours.

“do you want to come home with me?”

you laughed, “that doesn’t sound sketchy at all.”

he laughed with you. “sorry.”

“don’t be sorry. as long as you’re willing to drive, i don’t mind leaving with you.”

now it's all guessing games, i'm guessing every gaze, like do you, don't you, would you even stay if you did? all i know is suddenly without you the bed feels too big

just like every other love story, a one night stand became many night stands, all in a few weeks. you were falling in love with him, and you were sure that jungkook was falling in love with you too.

constantly you would catch him staring at you. and every single time he looked away, jungkook’s cheeks would glow, mimicking the color of the roses that he had brought you one evening. you weren’t one who liked flowers, but it was jungkook who was giving them to you, so they were special.

you were often at jungkook’s apartment (although there were many times he came to your place and ended up leaving the next morning. you just enjoyed his living space more than your own). he lived alone, but was near all the friends that he gestured to at the nightclub. he often asked you to come over, offering to watch a movie or play video games. to say the least, the video games were becoming your favorite thing to do with him because of how annoyed he got every time you beat him.

you wondered where the direction of this relationship was going. were you and jungkook officially just hook-up buddies? friends with benefits? after all, you and him have hung out lots of times where it didn’t lead to sex. you and him found joy and comfort in each other’s presences.

however, one day, jungkook suddenly changed.

he was happy one minute, one day when you and him were on his couch playing a game. his phone rang, and you watched as his smile dropped off the face of the earth. you grew worried. “jungkook?”

he didn’t acknowledge you. instead he remained still, watching his phone as it rang continuously in his hand. you leaned closer, calling his name more gently. “jungkook.”

“can we do this later?”

“do what later?”

“this.” he replied shortly.

your eyebrows furrowed. “what do you mean?”

suddenly he stood up, a heavy breath escaping as he did so. he was heading towards his bedroom. but you quickly stood up, following him. you were worried, scared, as to what was happening. “jungkook. please, talk to me.”

you made the mistake of grabbing his wrist, because the way he ripped it out of your grasp broke your heart.

“jungkook?” you felt your voice crack slightly.

you hated how you were feeling. you weren’t sure what jungkook was to you, or how he thought you were to him, but you knew he wasn’t your boyfriend. still, the way he was acting towards you was hurting you. after the many weeks you’ve spent with him.

“just go!” he suddenly yelled, turning towards you.

“what’s wrong? i won’t leave until you tell me what’s happening.”

“just go! i don’t need to tell you anything. you’re just a naive girl trying to weave your way into my life.”

“i may be naive but i’m not trying to ‘weave my way’ into your life!” you felt a tear slip down your cheek. “if anything, you’re the one trying to weave your way into my life. you were the one who approached me at the club, you were the one who started the conversation, you were the fucking one who wanted to kiss me.”

jungkook’s eyes bored into yours. the same eyes that were once so soft, so comforting, but now were cold and dark. who had called him that had made him lash out like this?

“get out!” he suddenly yelled, pointing to the front door.

“gladly.” you replied calmly, before rushing towards the door.

the atmosphere felt too heavy and tense for you, you had to leave. you threw on your shoes, opening the door, and slamming it closed behind you. you didn’t care if the entire building hurt that you were angry, or had an argument, you just wanted to leave. so you did.

you went back home and for an entire day, you laid in your bed, the bedsheets pulled up to your chin. you wanted to be warmed and comforted, but the bed was simply cold and empty. your gaze was sad and tired as you stared at your phone. you tried to distract yourself as much as possible. but nothing would work. your mind would always drift back to jungkook.

suddenly, as you were in the middle of scrolling, your phone froze for a second, just as your ringtone interrupted the uncomfortable silence of your bedroom. jungkook’s name lit up, and your eyes widened. why was he calling you? you debated on not answering, tempted to let it go to voicemail. maybe he would leave one, saying whatever he wanted to say.

so, you let it ring, finding your chin trembling as you remembered your argument with jungkook. why were you so in love with him? if you didn’t have feelings for him, you wouldn’t be in so much pain.

you expected a voicemail. instead, jungkook called you again. finally, you answered him. “what?”

“i want to tell you something. i want to explain.”

“there’s nothing to talk about, jungkook. i don’t even think we were anything more than fuck buddies.”

jungkook sighed. “i don’t think of us like that.”

“oh yeah? i’m not sure i believe that.”

he sounded frustrated. “y/n, please, you’re making this difficult.”

you rolled your eyes. you sat up in your bed, leaning your back against the wall. “fine.”

“i didn’t mean to argue with you.” he began. “i didn’t mean to yell at you and call you naive and say all those things. it’s just-”

you waited for him. you would always wait for him…

tryna find where your head is but i'm losing myself in the process you're bad for my health

“my ex called.”

you felt yourself clench your jaw, shaking your head. jungkook wasn’t even your boyfriend, and yet you were feeling jealous.

“she-she called me, and i was just surprised, maybe even angry. y/n, please forgive me. she wasn’t a good person for me and i let my emotions take over.”

“did she hurt you?”

there was a heavy sigh, a pained sigh as a matter of fact. you regretted asking such a question, especially if this ex bothered jungkook so much. “she did, she did.”

you waited for him to continue.

“look, jungkook, you don’t have to tell me anymore if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“y/n, you don’t make me uncomfortable. if anything, i feel like i can tell you anything.”

you blushed slightly at his words. you felt like your spirits were beginning to lift, like your chest was loosening, and you weren’t upset at jungkook anymore.

“she cheated on me.” he finally was able to say. “but that’s not exactly why i was angry that she called me.”

you were puzzled. “why were you angry then?”

“because even after she cheated, even after she said that she loved someone else, i was still in love with her. when she called, i couldn’t imagine why she was calling me, and i guess that just angered me.”

you felt heavy once again, and you wanted to sink into your bed, wrap yourself in the arms of your blankets, and wither in your pain. jungkook was in love with someone else. he felt comfortable with you, but not in the way that he was in love with you.

and then you were in full understanding of jungkook’s anger and pain. he didn’t cheat on you, but he was in love with someone else. and you were angry that you were still in love with him with that fact.

“y/n?”

“jungkook, i can’t tell you not to love you ex-” you stopped yourself, scared that you were crossing a line, but you continued, “but after she cheated, you can’t trust her. for all you know, she’s just going to do it again, and again, hurting you. you need to get over her.”

“i know.”

you sighed. you brought your hands up to rub your eyes, your fingers pinching the bridge of your nose afterwards.

“that’s why i went to that club.”

“what?”

“that’s why i approached you. i wanted to try to forget about her.”

your eyes widened in surprise as you listened to jungkook’s words. as much as it pained you that you were on the path of always being his second choice, not the one, you couldn’t help but ask, “did i do a good job?”

finally, you heard him laugh. you smiled to yourself. that was when you decided that no matter who you were to jungkook, friend or girlfriend or friends with benefits or whatever, you would try your best to be there for him and make him smile. you were his…

all the good nights are they hidden goodbyes in disguise? i never know you come see me only when i ask first

‘do you want to come over?’ you texted.

‘on my way ;)’, he replied.

you grinned and waited patiently for jungkook to come over. after that conversation about his ex over the phone, you felt like you and jungkook had grown closer, like an unnatural bond was forming between you and jungkook.

jungkook soon arrived and with his help, you were moved into the bedroom.

an hour or two later, you had lost track of time, you and jungkook laid side by side in silence, relaxing underneath your covers. you were happy that things were back to normal.

“i think i’m going to talk to her again.”

you turned your head, brushing some of your hair aside. “who?”

of course, you already know who.

“my ex. she’s been calling me everyday and when i don’t answer it, she texts me.”

“that’s kinda annoying.”

jungkook shrugged. “yeah. but, she wants to work things out.”

you sat up, pulling the covers with you to cover yourself. you faced your friend. “jungkook, i don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“why not?”

“well, for starters, she cheated on you. i would think that that reason alone would convince you not to talk to her. secondly, if she’s been calling or texting everyday for what, like a week now, doesn’t that seem a little desperate?”

“she just wants to talk things out.”

“jungkook-”

“maybe she wants to apologize.”

“jungkook, i know you’re still in love with her, but you need to get over her. she caused you so much pain. she’s toxic. you shouldn’t feel obligated-”

“i don’t feel obligated, y/n.” jungkook sat up suddenly, his eyes avoiding yours. “i-i want to see her too.”

you shook your head. your mind was racing with a million thoughts. if jungkook gets back with her, you would have to stop seeing him like this? would he still be your friend? would he still want to see you, even when he goes back to his ex? would he tell his ex about you, and all the little meetups you and him had at night?

“as long as she makes you happy, jungkook.” you whispered into the darkness.

jungkook finally looked at you. if he was honest to himself, he felt a little guilty. he liked you. he liked you a lot. you made him feel at ease, to release all his worries and stress, and you were a good friend to confide in. but, his ex was someone who’s had a major influence in his life. they’ve been together for years, and jungkook couldn’t imagine himself ever forgetting about her.

when you kiss me, do you wish it were her? the best at being the worst

that was the last time you ever saw jungkook. it broke your heart just at the thought that he didn’t even say goodbye. he left while you were sleeping. he just got up and left, disappearing without so much as a note or a text. he just was gone like a ghost in the night.

you found yourself, as your life went on, checking your phone. maybe you missed a text from him.

your phone would begin to ring, and your eyes were look for his name.

every time you went to the nightclub, you were subconsciously looking for his face once again.

this continued for weeks.

there was a pat on the small of your back, causing you to turn your head and meet minnie’s sympathetic eyes. you had told her everything, all that has happened between you and jungkook, all your thoughts and feelings, she knew it all. and she tried to understand. she was your best friend, and tried to help you get over him.

you sighed, “maybe it’s for the best.”

she looked at your drink, “i couldn’t imagine his ex would like that he was still friends with his fuckbuddy.”

you glared at her. “y/n, look around you. there’s plenty of others in here that are probably more than willing to let you slip into their pants.”

you turned around. “but they’re not him.”

“i know, but it gives you an excuse to not think about him for one night.”

you sighed again, closing your eyes and listening to the music.

“you know, he told me that when his ex called him for the first time after a month, that he was angry at the fact that he was still in love with her, even after all that had happened.”

minnie nodded.

“i get it now.”

“what do you mean?”

“i didn’t understand why he would still be in love with her after she cheated on him. but we were just fuckbuddies and now that he’s back with her, i get the anger. because i’m still in love with him. i hate to say this, i want nothing more than to forget him, but i think jungkook is always going to have my heart.”

minnie glanced at you, worry written all over her face. you didn’t meet her eyes, but you could feel them.

after a few thoughts, however, you turned around, chugged the rest of your drink, and then headed towards the dance floor. “where are you going?” minnie yelled after you.

“i’m going to forget about him.”

you merged with the crowd, dancing like there’s no tomorrow. it felt good to let loose, to let the music take over your body as if you were a marionette doll and the music was the strings. you let yourself go, and it wasn’t long before you were making out with a random guy that you found attractive.

he was hot, you’d admit. and you tried your absolute best to not compare him to jungkook. you tried not to think of him as you pulled this stranger into your home, pulling his jacket off and throwing it against the front door.

the guy moaned, pulling your body close to his.

however, just as you were leading him to the bedroom, an involuntary thought crossed your mind. you remembered all the times you and jungkook had moments like these. him showing up and aggressively kissing you, you taking off his jacket while pulling him towards your bedroom.

the way his lips fit yours, just like a puzzle. and how warm and gentle his hands were on your body, even if he was desperate.

suddenly, you forced yourself away from the stranger. he didn’t understand, or rather pay attention to your movement because instead he attached his lips to the little area behind your ear, making his way down your neck.

you were panting, whether it was from aggressively kissing this man or from suddenly being hit with flashbacks. you gently pushed his shoulders, forcing him away from. you were embarrassed, whether it was for bringing this guy home in the first place, or interrupting the moment just because of one guy.

“is something wrong?” he asked, his words slurring together slightly.

you swallowed hard. “i don’t think we can continue.”

“why not?” he laughed. “your bedroom is literally right over there.”

“this was a mistake.”

“aw, come on, baby girl.”

“don’t call me that.”

the guy finally took the hint.

“just leave.”

he glared at you, angry at you not wanting to continue. he scoffed before turning and walking away. he angrily grabbed his jacket before leaving, slamming the door behind him.

and that’s when you broke down. you hated how you were feeling. you hated that you couldn’t turn off your emotions, that you couldn’t get rid of your feelings with jungkook, that you couldn’t stop thinking about him. you hated that even after everything, you were still in love with him.

you cried, until finally you found comfort in the floor.

that’s when you thought to yourself that this needed to stop. that you couldn’t love him anymore.

just as you sat up, after minutes of laying on the floor, your phone vibrated. it was still in the pocket of your jacket which had been discarded when you brought that guy home. you reached for it and pulled it towards you, looking for the device that continued to ring.

you finally pulled it out of the pocket. the caller id made your eyebrows knit together, and your eyes to widen in surprise. immediately, after swearing you would forget about him, your stomach was somersaulting with anxiety. it was jungkook. he was calling you.

you shouldn’t answer, you told yourself. you should block him, delete him from your phone. that would be the first step of forgetting about him. don’t let him do this to you.

after much debate, you felt yourself sigh, a strained cry coming from your throat.

but fuck sake, i'm already yours, mmm sad to say, i'm already yours, oh

“hello.” your voice was quiet, shaky.

“do you want to come over? i need a distraction.”

“is everything okay?”

“she,” his voice broke, “she cheated again.”

this would have been another moment to forget him, to tell him “i told you so” and hang up.

instead, you nodded your head. “i’ll be right over.”

#bts #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bts jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts one shot #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts angst #jungkook one shot #kpop

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