#When I say this pairing has me in a chokehold I am barely breathing
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a cowgirl's dream || danny wagner x reader
Read on AO3 | Masterlist
Summary: You show Danny just how much you like his new cowboy hat. | Standalone in the Four Weddings universe
Pairings: Danny x Reader | Genres: porn without plot (minors begone!), fluff | Word Count: 2.3k | Warnings: unprotected piv, oral (f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, a little bit of soft dom!Danny, sorry babe the cowboy hat stays on during sex
A/N: I feel like I ought to be ashamed of this slightly but I am 100% not. Cowboy hat Danny has me in a chokehold. Enjoy the product of my delusions besties!!! ♡
“Danny!”
You boyfriend looked over at your voice as he came off stage, searching around the dim backstage area until he caught sight of you. A handsome grin lit his face when he did, and he wove through people and equipment until he got to you.
“Sunny!” he said. “How was the — ?”
He didn’t get a chance to finish his question, but he didn’t seem to mind that you’d cut him off as he eagerly leaned into the kiss you gave him. You stood on tiptoe and put your arms around his neck, and he leaned close to make it a little easier for you.
“Well, hello to you too,” he said when you let him come up for air. His cheeks were flushed and he gave you a beaming grin, thrilled at your eager attention.
“To what do I owe this warm welcome?” he teased, holding you close with a big hand splayed over the small of your back.
You looked up at him dreamily, letting yourself enjoy a moment to take him in with all his post-show confidence and joy. He was shirtless and his skin was almost hot to the touch, damp with sweat and heady with the scent of his cologne; the little gold necklace he’d borrowed from you forever ago rested just above the hollows of his collar.
By far the most alluring part, though, was the sparkly silver cowboy hat atop his crown of curls. You were a little embarrassed to say so, but when he’d put it on during the last song, you’d gone completely crazy for it. Between the hat and the way he’d grinned and laughed at wearing it, you decided you couldn’t go one more minute without having him.
“Danny, I...” You bit your lip and ran you hands over his bare shoulders. “I need you.”
His smile turned a little crooked. “Is that so, sweet girl?”
The pet name sent a shiver through you, and he pulled you close when he felt it.
“Let’s get you what you need, then, huh?” he asked.
You could only nod, utterly entranced by him, so in love with him and feeling a little dizzy at the effortless way he took control once you admitted what you wanted. You gave a hasty goodbye to the guys and spent the ride to the hotel being fidgety, breathless and blushing when Danny teased you with a hand on your thigh.
Up in your room, you practically threw yourself at him, and he was content to let you have your way with him for a few minutes. He tried to undress you, but you made it a little difficult as you didn’t want to be distracted from kissing him; he promised you as many kisses as you wanted when you were naked, and you let him undress you before he stripped to his boxers. He scooped you up and held you as you wrapped your legs around his waist, tilting his head back to give you better access as you kissed all over his face and neck.
“Sunny, sweetheart,” he said affectionately. “What’s got you in such a mood?”
“You’re complaining?” you teased.
He chuckled. “Of course not,” he said. “But I’m just wondering if there’s something special about tonight that’s got you so flustered.”
“Just you,” you said, and it was almost the truth. Danny drove you wild no matter what, but the more you kissed him in that hat, the more you wanted him to keep it on.
“Suits me,” he said, and he walked you to the bed and laid you back on it. You looked up at him and liked that he gave you a moment to just look at him, a crooked, self-satisfied smile tipping up the corner of his mouth as you did.
“Like what you see, sunny?” he asked.
Your breath caught. “You have no idea.”
He smirked and moved to hover over you, trailing kisses all down your body, telling you in his low voice how pretty you looked, how sweet and warm and lovely you were. You ran your hands all over him, loving the feel of his warm, tanned skin under your fingers.
“I love you,” you said.
He kissed the crest of your hip. “I love you too, sweetheart.”
He moved his kissed lower, kneeling at the edge of the bed and pulling you to him. You sucked in a breath when he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh.
“Danny, please,” you said.
You felt his smile against your skin. “Patience, baby. Be a good girl for me.”
You wanted to squeeze your legs together, needing friction, and he only chuckled.
“You like it when I tell you to be a good girl?” he said in a velvet voice. When you didn’t answer, he pulled your thigh to rest over his shoulder and turned his head to kiss it, the bridge of his nose nudging against you as he breathed you in.
“Answer me, pretty girl,” he said. “Do you like it when I tell you to behave?”
You took a shaky breath. “Yes, Danny.”
He nipped at your sensitive skin. “That’s my sweet girl. Now tell me something else — do you want me to eat you out?”
“Yes, please,” you all but whined. His teasing was agonizing, but you were so wet for him, and he’d barely touched you.
“Well, since you asked so nicely.” He reached to take his hat off, and you couldn’t stop yourself from blurting out what you’d been trying to keep a secret.
“Wait!”
He frowned a little as he looked up at you. “What’s wrong?”
You blushed vividly. “Um, I... uh....” You couldn’t bring yourself to say it, and he watched your face with a touch of worry.
“What is it, baby?” he asked, gentle and patient as he tried to set things right. “You change your mind? It’s okay if you did.”
You shook your head. “Um, no, I just...” You felt your face get hotter. “Oh, this is so embarrassing, but... can you keep the hat on?”
His expression changed from worry to confusion, and then from confusion to amusement.
“Are you serious?” he asked.
“Um... yes?” you said in a small voice.
He grinned. “The hat is what’s doing it for you, huh?” He laughed. “Okay, baby. I’ll keep the hat on.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to be too worried about how silly it was to want him to keep it on, not when he set in on you with such enthusiasm and skill. He made sinful groaning noises in his throat as he licked and sucked and kissed, curling two fingers inside you as he buried his face between your thighs.
“Oh god, oh god — ” You moaned when he pressed your hips down and kept at you as you came. “Yes, Danny, yes, holy fuck .”
When he’d left you a mess beneath him, he looked up at you from under the brim of that stupid disco cowboy hat and gave you a cocky grin.
“Damn, honey. I guess you really do like the hat.”
You groaned and flopped back on the pillow. “Shut up.”
He laughed and pressed a few sloppy kisses to your thighs before he straightened and made quick work of his boxers. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart.”
“You don’t think it’s stupid?”
“No way,” he said, running his hands over your thighs and hips and tummy, soothing you as he always did before he moved on to whatever he had in mind for the next act.
He looked up at you. “Is this a good time to mention that I want you to wear a Santa hat every time we fuck in December?”
You half-laughed, half-groaned as you felt your face heat, and you hid behind your hands as he gave a warm, affectionate laugh.
“I’m sorry, honey,” he said, and you heard the smile in his voice. He moved onto the bed with you and gently moved your hands so he could kiss all over your blushed face. “I shouldn’t tease. I think it’s cute that it gets you all hot and bothered.”
“You promise?”
“I promise,” he said sweetly. His fingers traced between your legs, and you felt a fizzle of excitement and anticipation at the way he shifted his attention and his posture back to the task at hand. “I’ll keep it on while I fuck you, if you want.”
“Okay,” you said, still a little embarrassed by how much you liked it.
He smiled, flashing his little fangs as he put his hands on your hips. “Atta girl.”
He teased you for a minute, working you up again, his touch just light enough to drive you crazy.
“God, I could just eat you out all night,” he said with a reverent touch of the pad of his thumb to your clit. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, honey? You want me to eat your pussy until you cry?”
You gave a breathy little groan at the thought, knowing from experience that he could deliver if you said that's what you wanted. He used his free hand to press your thigh back down when you tried to squeeze your legs around his arm.
“Uh-uh, baby,” he said sweetly. “Let me see that pretty thing all wet for me.”
You wriggled under him. “Danny, please, I’m gonna cum again if you don’t stop.”
He hummed. “Well, I guess I won’t stop then.”
He rubbed fast circles exactly where you wanted them, and in a matter of seconds, you were dissolved under him again. He tipped his hat back before he leaned close and kissed love marks against your neck, and you gasped when you felt his cock against you.
“Get inside me,” you breathed.
He chuckled. “Bossy, aren’t you?”
“Please,” you begged. “I need you, Danny.”
“I know,” he said, saccharine sweet around the dizzying hint of condescension in his voice. “Poor thing. You need my cock to fill you up, don’t you, sweet girl?”
You could only nod, rendered speechless by the way he talked to you. Danny was usually so gentle and sweet, and you loved him that way, but the confidence and cockiness that radiated from him in the post-show haze always drove you crazy.
“You know how much I like to make love to you,” he said, splaying his fingers over your thighs as he pushed them apart. “All slow and sweet for my pretty girl.”
“Danny,” you whined. You’d take him any way you could, but you weren’t sure slow and sweet was exactly what you wanted this time.
He looked at you from under his lashes and smirked. “I like it when you beg for me, baby.”
He gripped your hips and ran his cock between your legs; you tried to focus, watching the way his thin gold necklace caught the dim light.
“I could make it nice and slow,” he said, “but I think we need something a little more — mmfh.”
Both of you groaned when he buried himself to the hilt.
“More athletic,” he said, a little breathless. “What do you think, honey?”
“Just fuck me,” you whimpered.
He flashed you a wicked grin. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”
You couldn’t have stopped the moan that tumbled from you as he started to drive into you, setting a hard, steady pace as his hips snapped against yours. You touched every part of him you could reach, gripping his arms, chanting his name, totally at the mercy of his strength and stamina.
“Holy fuck, Danny,” you managed, digging your nails into his shoulders, delirious with the feel of him inside and out.
“God, baby, you feel so good,” he praised. His makeup was smudged and a few curls were plastered to his face with sweat. “So good for me, honey.”
“I’m gonna — oh, fuck —” You couldn’t even get the words out before you were cumming again, and he groaned with pleasure as you squeezed around him.
“Jesus,” he breathed. “Hold on.”
With practiced skill, he moved so you were on top; you whined at the delicious oversensitivity and the way his arms went around you to get you where he wanted you. You braced your hands against his chest and tried to catch your breath as you felt him inside you at this new angle.
“Save a horse, ride a cowboy, huh?” you laughed, breathless.
He grinned. “Something like that.” He took the hat from his head and put it on you, albeit a little crookedly. “Here.”
You straightened it and looked down at him with a teasing smile. “How does it look?”
He gave a low whistle. “You know, honey, I think I get why you like it so much.”
You giggled and leaned close, and he propped himself up to hold you to him as he gave you hungry, breath-stealing kisses.
“Get to it, cowgirl,” he said with a smirk.
You swiveled your hips and loved the way his breath caught. “Maybe you ought to mind your manners, cowboy.”
You gave him one last kiss and pushed him back onto the pillows, and he looked up at you with nothing short of adoration and dizzying desire. You started to move, taking your time now that you were the one holding the power, and he gave a little whine as his Adam’s apple bobbed.
“Holy lord,” he said pitifully. “Uh, honey, I think I overestimated how cool I could be about this.”
You gave a sweet laugh, endeared by his honesty and his obvious desire for you. You kissed his neck and under his jaw.
“I don’t mind,” you said. “Cum for me when you need to, baby.”
He swore under his breath and gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises as you worked him up to his high. He brought you back down on him, hard, and you threw your head back.
“Fuck, Danny,” you gasped.
“I’m so close, baby,” he panted. “Cum with me.”
He moved his hand between you, and you saw stars as you came with him inside you. He followed right after, groaning and pulling you close to him until both of you were spent.
You both took a second to catch your breath, and he tipped your hat back so he could give you a good, long kiss.
“Thank you,” he said breathlessly, holding you close to him.
You twirled his soft curls around your fingers. “My pleasure. I love you, Danny.”
“I love you too, sunshine.” He kissed your neck, his strong arms wrapped around you, his nose bumping against your jaw in a familiar touch that made you smile.
“You know what?” he asked.
“Hm?”
“I think the hat needs a permanent place in our toy box.”
You laughed and pressed close to him, feeling his smile when you kissed him. “Suits me, cowboy.”
danny taglist:@tearsofbri@busybeingtrash@myway-late@gotavansleep@gretavanbri@stardustchxrds@pxppylove @mariegvf @bajabule69 @radmads-gvf@sunnykiszka@audgeppp
gvf taglist:@malany-gvf@spark-my-nature@eearevee@madneedshelp@demonrat444@josh-iamyour-mama @honeyandsweettae @mydarlingdanny@gretavandann@sacredjake@myleftsock@joshskittytickler21@hellowgoodbye@watchingovergvf2@fearfulspirit@mywaysoon@carbondancingthroughtime@caprisunsister @eraofstardustchords @sacredthefran@shesawomaninadream @serendipiti @demonrat444@wildflowerxx-x @tearsofdanny
@gvfrry@ohhey1293@the-chaotic-cow@mountain-in-springtime@xserenax-13@stardustjtk @brooke-gvf@weightofdreams-gvf@jakeydoesit@gretasmokerising@hayley1623@doodle417@finestoflines@brokenbellz@bowievanfleet@s0livagant@strugglingtodoshit@s-u-t@kay-jordan@gretavanfleas@jakeyboiiiiiii@gretavansteph@gretavanbitches@myownparadise96@luverleaver@weightofdreamz@greatervanfleet@maedesculpaeusoubi@jakekiszkasbestie@pineapple-photographer@baguettejuliette@alexxavicry@levi-wants-ur-bones@carlybubs@cowboysamkiszka@dannyandthekiszkas@jordierama@slutforsteve@starshine-wagner@quartzzzzzzz@edgeofdreams@writingcold @lostoverseer @catharu77 @mackalah@jaketlove @haileygvf @blacksoul-27 @ur-m0ms-blog
sorry if tumblr didn’t tag you — it’s stupid sometimes. but i’m real thankful for you, sweet peaches! and if you’re a new bestie and would like to be added to my taglist, check out the form right here! ♡
#I HOPE Y'ALL LOVE THIS ONE <3333#i sure liked writing it hehe#danny wagner x reader#danny wagner smut#danny wagner fanfiction#gvf fanfiction#gvf smut#danny wagner#four weddings universe#danny x sunny#maddie writes stuff!
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A little worse than you made it out to be.
Cw: suicide
Pairing: Azul ashengrotto/Jamil Viper
"Jamil!"
Kalim's voice pierces through the serene atmosphere that Jamil has managed to discover in an instance. In spite of his rebellious 'phase' he is as shackled as ever.
Still, Kalim is not to blame. He knows that much by now.
He lingers at the edge of the railing for a while longer than he should. Maybe he could pretend not to hear? The cool desert air is hard to leave. If he stays away could he avoid the trouble bound to come along with whatever Kalim would entrust him with?
Unfortunately, trouble found it's way to Jamil regardless. So often that he had been nurturing a secret suspicion that the 'trouble magnet' label that he so often assigned to Kalim was more suited for himself.
This time, trouble manifests itself in the form of a snow white glove on his bare shoulder, piercing grey-blue eyes and a cloying voice.
"My, Mr. Jamil. Aren't you afraid of catching a cold?"
"Not in this weather," comes the terse reply.
Jamil does not turn his head. He will not give Azul the satisfaction of it. His time is limited and he cannot waste his remaining days on one who had robbed him of them in the first place.
A small stretch of silence follows his reply. Azul retracts his hand, almost apologetically and struggles to find a way to voice his thoughts. Jamil finds himself missing the weight on his shoulder.
"I didn't actually stream it. I was merely on a phone call with Jade."
The statement proves to be mildly more jarring than a desert rainstorm. Jamil goes still, grip tightening on the railing. His future stretches before him. He swallows, mouth dry with dread.
"Why didn't you stream it."
His voice comes out hoarse, the question phrased like a demand. An order.
Azul blinks, not expecting a reply in the first place. Of all replies... this was perhaps the one he had prepared himself the least for. He finds himself unable to read Jamil, his years of observation fruitless in the moment.
"Well... I," Azul begins, stepping closer; He's close enough that their shoulders are touching, his left hand resting lazily on the railing, "I'm not looking to kill you, Jamil. I bear no hatred towards my classmate."
Quite the opposite, actually.
That thought remained as unspoken since the moment Azul realized he had stopped justifying himself around his classmate.
"I tried to kill you, though. Knowingly."
"I'd be lying if I said I hadn't done to same to some of my own closest friends at some point."
"I could finish the job." Jamil finally looks at Azul and his coal black eyes are as lightless as they were when he had Overblotted.
Azul merely shakes his head with a knowing smile.
"I've never met anyone as paradoxically stupid as you, Ashengrotto," Jamil says through gritted teeth. He looks back out at the scenery, if only to keep himself from reading too much into things.
"I don't understand."
Azul bites his lip for a second before responding, voice plaintive and delicate.
"You would if you payed attention, Viper."
Jamil disregards his vulnerability entirely, having worked himself up. His voice becomes louder, as do the thoughts in his head.
"You don't know me. You wouldn't have suffered if you had just publicized the footage, only I would have! My life would have been over- why didn't you ruin my life? You should have- I didn't- I don't care about it anymore!"
Jamil breathes heavily, his head bowed. He squeezes his eyes closed, overwhelmed with so much of himself and so little of what he is supposed to be.
Azul finds that things slot perfectly into place in his head now, and his melancholic jigsaw project is almost whole. It doesn't feel as satisfying as he thought it would.
"I get it now."
Jamil looks at him again but this time his eyes shine with unshed tears and the image is so pretty and real to Azul that he can barely keep himself from kissing them off of his unmasked face.
"Jamil, how long have you wanted to die?" Azul's voice is gentle and sincere and so, so soft.
"How am I supposed to answer that?" Jamil replies incredulously, but his voice wavers enough to tell Azul that he'd pushed just the right button.
"The way that you want to. I won't order you around."
"I don't-" He can't find a reply, there is none. Jamil feels like he's been socked in the face with that question. He realizes... he doesn't know either.
It's painful.
It hurts.
He doesn't want to think about it. So he proposes a counter question.
"What's this to you?"
"How long were you planning to usurp Kalim? You knew what would happen had you failed." Azul presses further, disregarding Jamil's protests. His expression is gravely serious and sincere; His voice stern.
Jamil relents, looking off to the side guiltily. It seems as though he had been caught.
"At the time, I didn't care. I knew it was stupid, I was just... exhausted."
He recalls the feeling of hopeless desperation that had begun to creep up on him the moment Kalim had transferred to the school, how it had gradually formed itself into a chokehold by his second year, suffocating.
"It was uncharacteristically stupid, Viper. Don't do anything like it again!"
Azul raises his voice for the first time to chastise him. His eyes are more intense that Jamil has ever seen them and they burn with concern that is more genuine that Jamil expects. Azul feels bad, having seen Jamil falter at his yelling and ends his outburst with a more soft-spoken reassurance.
"And if you ever feel tired... just know that there's a table at the lounge for you should you want to rest. Masks are heavy, Mr. Jamil."
Jamil's face heats up slightly, because Azul is smiling the same way he had when Jamil first woke from his blot induced state and cussed him out. It makes his breath stutter in a way he can't conceal, it makes him feel seen and stripped bare.
"... Shut up. You're creepy when you look like that."
"Has anyone told you that you ought to be a little nicer?"
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Stranger Things (2)
Pairing: Baekhyun x fem!Reader ft. Kyungsoo, Mark Lee, Jongdae (if you squint)
Description: You met an obnoxious lawyer at the airport and fell stupidly in “love” but little did you know, his heart belonged to someone else.
Themes: Fluff, crack, stupid OC, Mark Lee’s debut with a law firm, organic cucumbers, cowsheds, corgis, farmer!Soo, lawyer!Baek
A/N: This was not supposed to happen but four people asked for it and that’s really all it takes to get me to do something. I was SO tempted to title this - Of Cowsheds and Corgis!! This fic is ridiculous and very predictable but I gave up on the angst I was writing for this because ridiculous is just what I need right now. I truly hope you’re all safe and healthy!
Word Count: ~ 1.6k
Chapters: One | Two | Three | Four (Final)
Groaning, you put down your second ‘fruit platter’ with a deliberate clang on Kyungsoo’s bedside table. Nothing. “Yah! Did you catch narcolepsy in that ridiculously mind numbing hamlet?” The skinny end of your chopstick slowly made its way to the sole of his left foot. Still nothing. Panic swelled within you and you crawled over to his side to check his breathing. He was breathing, alright.
“Eomma!” You bellowed. Maybe it was time for the third medley of diced apples and bananas.
Still nothing.
***
“Sloth.” You took a jibe at a barely awake Kyungsoo.
“Creep.”
“Creep?”
“You were watching me sleep!”
“I was waiting for you to wake up! There’s a difference, Snorlax.”
“Patience - -”, his mouth fell open in a huge yawn.
“Isn’t my greatest virtue. Yeah, I know. You’ve said it a million times. It’s etched in my heart. I’ll get it tattooed across my forehead. Now spill.”
For a moment Kyungsoo looked confused before diving into his fruit platter with a half-suppressed snicker.
“What?” You attacked his stupid bespectacled face with a pillow. When was the last time he got a change of glasses? He’s worn this thick-rimmed atrocity forever. Although the man was optically challenged, his hearing was more than just fine. He was quick to spot the hint of defensiveness in your tone and his heart shaped smile had a reputation of showing up only when you were in deep trouble. “Ahhhhh….my case? The bank is entitled to a lien on the adjoining cowshed - ”
You cut in with a long impatient sigh. “Kyungsoo, sweetie, can we talk about corgis for now?”
“Chubs”, you undid your messy bun at the sound of that horrendous nickname, “you’ve got a bad case of --- honestly whatever this is. You spent two hours with him. Two.”
“Squishy, I’m not three anymore. I am a woman now.” His face contorted into an expression of disgust. “Stop. Calling me. Chubs.” Interjecting every word by striking his shoulder with your feeble wrist, you noticed how ‘un-Squishy’ he’d gotten over the past one year. “And I know all there is to know...about your 174 cm tall friend who struts around like he’s no less than 185. But that’s not him...that’s Handsome Mr. Park, his partner.”
“Stalker!” Kyungsoo’s eyes grew wide in horror and he flicked your forehead very, very hard.
Swallowing your cry of pain, you pinched his ear with all your might, making him wince. “It’s called content curation. If you ever happen to meet a lovelorn village belle ….let me know, yeah? I’m willing to put up my skills to offer. For a fee, of course.”
“YAH!” He freed himself from your grasp. “Behave! You’re not three anymore, right? Tell me...how much do you know about Baekhyun?” He was curious. Slightly panic-struck, even. But you couldn’t tell why.
“I will tell you but I need to know something before that. Has he - Doh Kyungsoo I swear to God I will bury you alive if you so much as smile - has he mentioned me at all?” You felt your face flame and a part of you really did not want to know the answer to that.
Kyungsoo sucked the insides of his cheeks in and said, “He thinks you’re interesting.”
You knew 'interesting', almost always, was nothing but a euphemism for weird. Ignoring the tender ache in your chest you said, "Well, I think he looks a lot like his corgi Mongryong. Mum has invited you to dinner tomorrow. Later, Squish." You pulled him in a bear hug, picked up the two, now polished, plates and walked out of Kyungsoo's room, slowly closing the door behind you.
"Eomma, Kyungsoo will be joining us for dinner -"
"Chubs, wait!" He hurried out of his room and handed you a rather heavy C4 size envelope. "My dentist appointment has been moved to today and I had to drop these documents off at Byun Park's", after a small pause he hesitantly continued, "he won't be there."
"Who won't be there?" Kyungsoo’s mother eyed the both of you suspiciously.
You couldn’t say no to the illustrious prince of a family who fed you a whole carton of organic fruits a while ago. At least not in front of the matriarch.
"It's nothing Eomma… it's Kyungsoo's friend Byun Baekhyun. Yah! Doh Kyungsoo! Stop acting like he's my ex boyfriend."
***
Your heart raced as you stepped into the elevator of the swanky commercial building. Pushing the button for the 27th floor, you turned around to examine yourself in the mirror feeling frumpy and underdressed in your faded yellow sweater and mom-jeans. The ding of the elevator jolted your heart and your mouth went dry as you lay your eyes on the blond haired man standing in front of you. You wanted nothing more than to snake your arm around Doh Kyungsoo’s neck and put him in a tight chokehold until he begged for mercy -- at this point you weren’t very keen on letting go of the imaginary, gasping for breath, blue in the face, Doh Kyungsoo. He won’t be there??
“Hi”, you said stepping out of the elevator but what you really wanted to say was ‘I want to delete myself’.
“Airport Girl!” He jested. You didn’t feel very apologetic anymore or even underdressed for that matter since the partner of a snooty law firm thought that a long sleeved jersey with bib shorts were an acceptable choice of clothing. Nevertheless, you properly introduced yourself and did what was long overdue.
“I am sorry about the other day and -- ” You briefly waited for him to cut you off with a ‘Don’t worry about it’ or even dismiss it with loud ‘hahaha’ but instead his little eyebrow raise insisted you complete your apology. “And I shouldn’t have - -”
“Airport Girl, I notice you have a problem completing your sentences.” Resting his hands on his hips he cocked his head to the side. That vaguely familiar annoying smirk made your skin crawl.
“Byun Baekhyun-ssi, I am here to see Lee Min Hyung. I am supposed to hand over Kyungsoo’s documents to him. I hope you’re working hard on my friend’s case. He really needs that cowshed back, he’s paid the broker’s fee in full for it. I hope this was coherent enough for you.” His smirk stretched into a genuine smile as he inched closer to you. Uncomfortable as you were standing in an enclosed space and conversing with a man in bib shorts, the diminished distance from his two small strides made you squirm. You could practically smell his cologne.
“I’ll forgive you if you agree to come cycling with me. Right now.”
“Absolutely not. Can I go see Lee Min Hyung now?”
“MARK LEE!” Baekhyun bellowed. The unsparing luminous smile on his face wasn’t doing any favours to the health of your heart. Within seconds, a bespectacled young lad who looked like he hadn’t slept a wink for days came rushing to his side. So Byun Baekhyun worked his employees to the bone while he himself took hiking trips in absurd outfits.
He put an arm around the frail boy and introduced the fresh law graduate to you, “This is my main man Mark Lee from Canada.” Violently thumping Mark’s back he continued, “Madam’s here with Doh Kyungsoo’s documents. Take her inside and go over the file. Check if anything’s missing and most importantly, offer her something cold to drink.” Letting go of Mark, he said to you with a wink, “I’ll be waiting in the lobby, Airport Girl. Or you’re never losing the nickname.”
***
Mark Lee’s involuntary metamorphosis from scaredy cat to ferocious lion cub in the conference room took you by surprise. While going over Kyungsoo’s documents like a hawk focused on its prey, he dutifully put a glass of ice water in front of you just as instructed by Byun Baekhyun. It was nothing more than a courtesy call. “Doh Kyungso-ssi’s personal documents all look okay -- ID card, bank statements, transaction information, realtors invoice, property possession documents.” You lost him at ‘realtor’s invoice’. “Seems to me, the realtor tricked him - - why did he not get due diligence done before investing in property? How could he not notice that the title deed does not extend to the cowshed?” Mark Lee was furious….at you.
“He’s just a simple man with simple dreams who wanted to trade his city existence for a quiet rural homestead and grow organic cucumbers, I guess? Why don’t you give him a call and --”
Mark Lee’s paw met the desk in a loud smack, startling you. “A simple due diligence would’ve saved him the hassle - -”
You weren’t exactly sure of the reason Byun Baekhyun thought you’d need a cold drink but he was so right, everything else seemed wrong. You took a rather large gulp of water, snatched Mark Lee’s notepad from his firm grasp and scribbled Kyungsoo’s number in it. “Here’s Doh Kyungsoo’s number. Call him if you need anything further.” You rose from your chair and eyed him sympathetically. “Take care, Mark Lee and please don’t skip meals.”
***
He waited for you, just as he’d promised. He somehow managed to look just as stunning in that funny costume as he did when you saw him at the airport. “Let’s go. Half an hour with that enthu cutlet Mark Lee and I need to feel the wind in my hair. How do you manage?”
“Yah! Airport Girl. He’s my best and brightest.” Sounding like a proud parent he guided you to the parking lot. The guilt weighing your heart down compelled you to ask, “What about Yoona?”
“She’ll be joining us.” Baekhyun quipped nonchalantly, opening the door to his Audi for you.
It was at that exact moment you said a silent prayer to a certain 3rd generation male idol to strike you with lightning and put you out of your misery.
Tagging: @hirumixoxo @majesticsnow @dreamingofdreamydream @juncottonluvbot
#exosnet#bbh-net#baekhyun fluff#kyungsoo fluff#exo fluff#mark fluff#exo scenarios#baekhyun scenario#byun baekhyun#exo baekhyun#superm baekhyun#baekhyun x reader#exo x reader#exo fanfics#baekhyun fanfic#exo fanfic#baekhyun fanfics#baekhyun scenarios#exo imagines#baekhyun imagines#exo x you#baekhyun x you
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Tainting Purity Chapter 4
Au: Demon
Tag list: @bangtans-apollo @xsunnyhoseokx @wilhelminalucinda @xsmilebitesx @okgoogul @mariacorbi @spiritualotaku @littlekitten8590 @felic-ci @saturated-pink @fckyouartclass @saraisthoughts @godrics @theshiningmoonsblog @winterseoul @nomimits7 @miss-delacour @apphiaasensio20 @novakitten0901 @thatonebibabe @2seokkyo @marvelkatwoman @vannilacake @books-are-way-better-than-movies @bluespidergirl56 @io-is-lame @avalanet @psiphidragon @livingbubbles-blog @inutiledediscuter @korkorky @iie-wakarimasen @pvrple-kookie @yoongiismytruelove @amiraclerenee @eltrain80 @shelley-hennig14 @bts-edits-bitch @frankenstein852 @oii-f-eli-x @kaykay-loves @saywheaaat @ireadfanficsonthisleavemealone @noonaduck
Rating: M
Potential Triggers: Kinks in this chapter include degradation, mentions of degradation and more marking. Things do get a bit violent for a bit. Check the masterlist as I update for all the triggers in the series up to that point.
Pairing: BTS x Reader/OT7 x Reader
Genre: Supernatural, Drama, Romance, Angst, Fluff, Hurt & Comfort
Length: 5.5k+
You shimmied into the tight black dress in the bathroom adjacent to your own; it'd taken them a shockingly small amount of time to get it together. It was really sweet- Namjoon had even repurchased all the books now surely either burned or sold by your old family and the others all had helped design the room and with moving in all the furniture.
It felt more like home than your old one ever did and that scared you just the tiniest bit.
You thought you'd be prepared when the boys had warned you of the club's…unique nature. You were wrong. You weren’t sure what was to be expected exactly; but to say your poor eyes would not be forgetting the images of leather clad men and woman alike; as well as the variety of what looked like torture implements on the wall next to you...yeah. These images would definitely haunt your thoughts for a while. Sure; you enjoyed bondage but pain was never something that triggered an aroused response for you and while you’d never judge others for having such a kink...the thought of Humans being hurt for a demons enjoyment and food in the soundproofed rooms you could see from the entrance; even if mutual; was a bit unsettling.
Yoongi must have noticed your discomfort as his hand slipped into yours quickly when no-one was looking and he nuzzled into your neck briefly before he was forced to pull away just as fast; probably feeling eyes on him. Still. It definitely helped your initial panic and soon you were finally relaxing a bit.
...Until you abruptly realized you were alone.
The music was near deafening as you wove your way through the crowd, heart beating out of your chest in pure terror. Where had they gone!? They were just surrounding you for God’s sake, how had they disappeared so quickly? You could feel the other demons leering at your vulnerable form, the skin-tight black dress you’d gotten at Jin’s suggestion not helping your panicked state in the least. You knew you were spiraling. Your breathing was picking up, and you suddenly felt unbearably light-headed. Where was their table? They said they had a special place right?!
This wasn’t good. You couldn’t lose yourself here, not when several demons were looking for the briefest chance to get their hands on you. Wasn’t the Mark supposed to stop this from happening!? If they had lied just to get a piece of your soul you swore you’d kill them.
Even the music seemed to be taunting you.
‘Maybe you think that you can hide, I can smell your scent for miles’
‘Baby, I’m preying on you tonight, hunt you down, eat you alive.’
A very typical club song, sure, but here, at this moment? It wasn’t helping your disheveled state as you were quickly growing frenzied between your panic at losing sight of the boys and your fear at being left to fend for yourself in a horde of demons, the majority eyeing you down like you were indeed their next meal.
“And what have we here? Seems like a cute little Human has wandered in where she shouldn’t~”
A seductive male voice purred into your ear, sounding like pure velvet. You shuddered, feeling nauseous as you tried to jump away at the icky feeling going through your veins. No-one had been this close to you except for the boys and you wanted it to stay that way.
Apparently, this demonic stranger had other plans as he held you firmly against his front with ease, using his inhuman strength to press you back into him by your captured waist with only one hand. He hissed suddenly and adjusted his grip as your bare back brushed across his chest, keeping enough distance between your bodies now that you wouldn't touch again but he could still control your movements.
“Release me now, or you’ll regret it!” You warned, cursing the waver in your voice.
You felt the male's lips caress your neck, quirking upwards into a cruel smirk at your threat.
“Oh? Look at the adorable little Human trying to tell me what to do. Don’t you think you ought to respect your elders?”
His voice was playful, but there was an aggressive edge to his voice now and his grip had tightened slightly. You’d gotten under his skin.
Good.
“Go fuck yourself! I give respect to those who’ve earned it and you’ve done anything but. I’ll ask you one last time, let me go now! I’m not here alone!!” Your voice grew a bit higher as you felt yourself starting to move. He was tugging you somewhere. You suddenly locked eyes with another demon, dressed in a suit much nicer than deemed normal for this place.
Could this be him? The owner the boys had told you about?
Didn’t matter, a quick glance of your surroundings told you that you were approaching the door. You needed to act.
“H-Help me, please! I belong to the Bangtan Clan!” You shouted suddenly, cheeks flaming at your somewhat derogatory confession, though the boys had warned you in advance that this was how Demon society viewed Humans. Immediately the kid’s eyes sparkled, and he smirked darkly.
For some reason, it made you shudder, even as the demon who’d once been dragging you howled in agony. You turned to look only to have your face gently guided back to face your savior.
You found yourself surprised. He was so...so young looking. Not a child, but he definitely looked like a teenager. It was even more evident up close.
“Now now, no need for a delicate flower such as you to see such gore. Come, I’ll take you someplace safe.”
His voice was casual as if he didn’t care but you could tell he’d taken pleasure in harming the demon holding you captive. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel bad.
“So um...you’re a Nogitsune right?”
Of course, that was the first thing to slip out of your mouth.
He seemed more amused than offended at your question, however, eyes darting up to examine your expression before he held out his hand for you to take.
“Why don’t we get somewhere more quiet first? Then I’ll answer any questions you have.”
You hesitated but forced a smile and nodded taking his hand in your own. You shivered unwillingly. His hands were cold like he wasn’t even alive, yet they were clammy so clearly, he was. He easily walked through the crowd and it parted for him without preamble, clearly not wanting to anger him.
You had a good idea as to why after his display earlier.
It wasn’t long until you were safely tucked away in what you could only guess was his own room. He dropped your hand, opting instead to flop on the large bed to sit.
“So, you were curious as to what I am, were you? Heh. What’s that saying about curiosity and cats?”
There was a dark undertone evident in his voice that made you swallow as he clearly knew exactly what the expression implied but he laughed suddenly, his demeanor changing almost instantly as he grinned cheekily at you.
“Ah, forgive me! I didn’t mean to frighten you, delicious as your fear may be. I’ve got an image to keep up after all. I’m the owner as I’m sure you put together. You may call me Void just as your owners do, no need for formalities.”
You nodded, trying not to dwell on the fact that he thought of you as their pet more than as a person. He’d saved you. That was all that mattered.
He made himself more comfortable, leaning back on his elbows and spreading his legs in a subconscious show of his confidence. “To answer you’re prior question pet, I am indeed a Nogitsune. No doubt your masters saw to your education on the subject?”
At your nod, he smiled calmly and let out a deep sigh as he threw his head back.
“I’d recommend learning some way to control your anxiety when you get that frightened next time. I was drawn to you and your fear immediately. Sure, it helped me find you easily enough, but others of my kind would see you as...well.”
He met your eyes abruptly and narrowed his eyes to emphasize his seriousness, licking his lips “The perfect food source.”
“Alright Void, that’s enough. I’m pretty sure she gets the picture.”
Namjoon’s voice greeted your ears and you’d never been so relieved as you turned to join him at the door. There was joking in his tone but also a clear edge of dominance. “I’d ask that you kindly refrain from calling our girl pet. You’ve caused quite a stir in the younger ones.”
Void raised his hands in surrender, an indecipherable smirk tugging at his lips. “Of course. Forgive my mistake. It won’t happen again.”
He bowed to you, making you blush as he rose, winking your way. “Apologies to you as well miss. Have a good night...and do call for me should anyone ever try to harm you again. I’d be more than happy to intervene.” His eyes were so overjoyed when he said it...you didn’t doubt his words at all.
You could barely manage a shaky smile and nod as Namjoon took a firm hold of your wrist and dragged you out to the bar where the others waited. Jimin instantly tugged you towards him, disguising his hug as a chokehold as his arm went around your throat but you recognized it for what it was. “Don’t you ever fucking run off like that again. Or you won’t walk for a week.” He hissed, eyes cold and dead, nothing like the cheerful boy you typically knew.
Jungkook scoffed, voice thick with irritation. “You’re the one who said she should leave the house. Pets don’t get to leave the house till they’re trained.” You swallowed hard as he shot a disinterested glare your way.
All of them were different, they had to be and thankfully they’d warned you in advance.
Still didn’t prepare you for the way your body reacted to their degradation, despite trying to hold it back.
Your thoughts drifted to the large Mark now forever engraved onto your back, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it’d truly made any difference at all.
Your eyes glazed as your mind thought back to the time when it’d all happened, a mere 3 hours ago now.
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“You're sure you want to do this?”
Jin asked for what felt like the 30th time. You couldn't blame him for being overly cautious though. He was just looking out for you and making sure this was something you wouldn't ever come to regret.
You nodded, swallowing any nervousness you had left. You trusted these boys with your life. They'd already protected you once… why should you doubt them now?
“Lie on your back on the bed, make sure you're in a comfortable position since we're going to have to paralyze you. We could accidentally kill you if you make a sudden movement we're not prepared for. It's unlikely with our enhanced senses but I'm sure we'd all rather be safe than sorry.”
Namjoon's voice was soothing despite his demands and you compiled without complaint, doing exactly as they asked. It was admittedly a bit embarrassing for you to be seen shirtless by all of them at once since you hadn't had a session with all of them together but since they'd all seen your bare upper half at one point or another, you weren't nearly as flustered as you thought you'd be.
“Let’s go through the process once more, just to be clear.”
Jimin piped up and you almost groaned but you nodded reluctantly, knowing they were just as nervous as you, especially the younger ones. Jungkook hadn’t even commented on your half-naked frame that’s how you knew he was more on edge than he appeared, arms crossed and expression neutral. Your attention was once again taken, this time by Yoongi.
“Alright. It’s pretty self-explanatory. For our part, we’re sharing pieces of our soul with her but we need to be careful not to overwhelm her with too much of one soul. It has to be entirely even otherwise the Mark could fail. We’ll be biting the shape of the hexagram. You can bite at whichever point you wish, but Seokjin gets the bite in the center, as he’ll be finishing off the Mark and drawing the shape with her blood right after. As for you…” He turned to look at you, expression serious. “It’s going to hurt. The initial bites won’t be too unbearable since we’ve marked you before but once Seokjin seals the Mark by drawing the hexagram in your blood it'll be burned in whatever place it deems it should go. The Mark has a mind of its own in a sense. It’ll depend on where you instinctually need it. For us, our Marks appear where we’ve bitten you most recently and we’ve experienced far more pain than your fragile Human body so it will barely have an effect on us.”
You nodded in understanding, as did the others and took a deep breath, watching as the boy's eyes all changed to their natural black and approached your form.
“All set? I’m going to paralyze you now babygirl.”
Namjoon’s voice was the only warning you got before you felt control over your body fade. You tried to tense at the odd sensation but true to his word you were completely paralyzed from the neck down until he released you.
Hoseok stepped forward first, winking playfully at you which made you crack a smile before he licked the area he intended to bite, making a shiver go through you despite your body staying completely still. It was an odd sensation but you were quickly brought back to the present as Hoseok’s teeth glinted when they sharpened before he bit down. You bit your own lip at the pain but it wasn’t enough to make you cry out anymore. It was more instinct to tense, like when you got a shot, or right before you ripped a bandaid off. He pulled back after Taehyung growled low in his throat, licking your leftover blood into his mouth and pressing a kiss to your ear with a mumbled. “So far so good pretty girl.”
Taehyung stepped up next, leaning over your motionless body to observe Hoseok’s initial mark as he pondered where he wanted his to go, choosing the bottom left point as opposed to Hoseok’s center top. Once he knew where he was marking he wasted little time and dove in, taking your skin gently between his teeth and pulling slightly in an attempt to numb the area before he bit down. Thanks to his thoughtfulness, his hurt less than Hobi’s though you still sighed as he pulled away. He seemed less messy as well, none of your blood lingering on his lips like with Hoseok.
Namjoon strode forward, a pillar of confidence and fearlessness for the others to follow but you saw the way his eyes lingered a bit too long on the two bite marks already present, noticed the way his shoulders were tensed. “Hey. You gonna bite me or what?" You teased lightly, even though when his eyes met yours there was nothing but gentleness held within your irises. You didn’t want to make it obvious you knew he was on edge to the others...he valued his pride too much and you knew he wouldn’t like for the others to ever see him as weak. He smirked at you but his touch was gentle as his warm palms met your skin, trying to keep you still despite there not being a need. His own way of showing you comfort, you assumed.
“Oh, I’m gonna bite you alright.”
He flashed his sharpened teeth your way before using his enhanced speed to bite you on the bottom center beside Taehyung’s mark, making you yelp though it was over as quickly as he’d started.
Jungkook was impatient and anxious both, you could easily tell. He didn’t try to hide it as Namjoon did and therefore the others offered him comfort before he even reached you. Jin ruffled his hair as he passed while Taehyung poked the boy's side to make him jump and grin briefly just before he reached you. You raised an amused eyebrow his way, a giggle bleeding into your words as you teased him. “I never knew you were ticklish Kookie~” You taunted, even using the nickname the others used to mock him further. He smirked at your retort, clearly relaxing as he cracked his neck and laughed.
“Careful. You're totally paralyzed right now cutie. It’d be way too easy to take advantage of that to see just how sensitive you are. Something tells me you’re worse than me~”
You scoffed even as your cheeks colored at his correct assumption and he hummed at your lack of response knowingly before leaning down to sink his teeth beside Hoseok’s mark to the right, though the squeeze he gave your side as he bit down distracted you from the pain and made you barely feel it. He sent a smug grin your way as he retreated, sticking his tongue out childishly. “Told you so!”
Yoongi stepped up next, all calm nonchalance as he took in your state for a moment before smiling fondly and kissing the area next to Namjoon’s mark, the final one to the left. He suddenly changed course though and bit down on the remaining spot beside Hoseok’s instead, catching you off guard though you were so focused on the surprise the sting was a mere afterthought. Cat-like eyes gazed meaningfully into yours before he leaned down again, this time towards your face and you found your cheeks heating as he pecked your forehead, an uncharacteristically gentle gesture from him, especially in front of the others, not that you were complaining.
Jimin cooed at you as he approached, eyes disappearing as he grinned at you despite his earlier worries. Apparently, seeing the way the others had soothed you and your teasing disposition also brought him comfort as well. “You’ve really got Yoongi-hyung wrapped around your finger huh?” He giggled even as said male hissed with a venomous glare.
“Shut it.”
Jimin continued, unabated.“That’s okay! I know I love you the most!” His declaration was so sincere your cheeks turned darker and your gaze flicked away from his for a moment in embarrassment. When you looked back, he simply giggled again and bent over you to create the final mark before Seokjin’s. You felt his warm breath caress the bottom left area Yoongi had abandoned in favor of taking you by surprise. He took his time, unlike the others, giving where he was planning to bite kitten licks until you wanted to squirm before he bit down. It stung, but he quickly soothed it once again with his tongue, eyes apologetic as they flashed red at the taste of your blood on his tongue.
Seokjin didn’t step forward for a moment, merely meeting your gaze from a bit across the room. Eventually, he did, but he took his time getting to you and once he reached you he reached down to your face, examining your expression before he mumbled. “...There will be no going back once I do this. The following pain will be agonizing. You’re aware of this and still wish to go through with it, yes?” You nodded instantly, knowing even a moment's hesitation would be enough to make him question you anew. He was truly serious and being his full self, he only got this eloquent when he deemed the situation dire enough.
“I’m ready when you are.”
He nodded and without further preamble his teeth were buried in your skin briefly, creating the final mark. He didn’t waste time, not rushing but clearly wanting to make this go as quickly as possible for you. He applied pressure to the small wounds now creating a full hexagram right above the center of your breasts to draw out more blood to complete the Mark. His eyes flickered, going between their typical black and red as he drew the symbol. He met your eyes before completing it, and only at your nod did he draw his now reddened index finger up in the final swipe.
All was quiet for a brief moment. There was nothing but peaceful bliss that you took in gratefully.
Then you felt as if the fires of Hell itself were licking at your back and screams of agonizing pain burst forth from your lips. You didn’t beg, didn’t whine. Between the violent thrashes of your head you could make out the guilt-ridden expression of Jimin, the frightened one of Jungkook, Yoongi clenching his fists at his sides so as to hold himself back from helping you, Hoseok’s hard expression despite his leg going a mile a minute, Taehyung’s frantically moving hands above your body; wanting to help but knowing he couldn’t touch you with pure agony of his own clouding his expression. You didn’t want to be the cause of their pain. You turned your gaze to Namjoon, meeting his eyes. He was holding back better than some of the others and if it weren’t for the way he tongued the inside of his cheek you would have been none the wiser. You caught his gaze and you knew he didn’t want to do as your eyes were asking. You snarled at him through the pain as you saw Jimin look away from your tormented body with a cough you fucking knew was a stifled sob. “Do it damnit!!”
Namjoon growled in irritation, but you knew it wasn’t directed at you. It was at himself, for not being stronger, for making you have to ask him at all because he was a coward.
He flicked his wrist and his eyes followed suit to the floor as your voice abruptly faded, going completely silent as tears blurred your vision, both from the horrible pain, and the suffering you were causing to your family perhaps even more so. The flames licked higher, engulfing the entire middle of your back now and causing the tears you’d desperately tried to hold back to cascade down your cheeks unabated.
You closed your eyes, intent on riding the pain out only to open them again as you felt a hand brushing away your tears. You glared at Yoongi, cursing him for trying to be so fucking strong when you could feel the way he was crumbling apart inside, bit by bit at seeing you in such a state. You suddenly wished for your voice again, if only to scream at him to leave, to stop putting himself through this.
You felt another hand, this time holding your own. Somehow you recognized who it was without even needing to raise your head. Jimin. As your other hand was grabbed by Hoseok you realized why you felt so especially connected to the boys, now more than ever. It was the Mark at work, compiling the things you’d noticed about the boys over the past 2 weeks and making it as easy to read them as breathing to you. Was this what they’d been able to do to you since the beginning? The thought made you wince. Seokjin began petting your hair and you realized dazedly despite your uncontrollable sobbing that the pain was dying down. You didn’t know how long it had gone on for, and truthfully, it didn’t matter. It was almost done, finally. The realization only made you cry harder.
As you began coming back to yourself from your pain-filled nightmare you suddenly realized Jungkook had been tearfully mumbling to you, along with Taehyung.
“You’re gonna be okay, it’s only for a little bit longer. Please hold on.”
You’d never heard Jungkook so vulnerable save that time in the dressing room, and definitely never this soft-spoken, even then.
Taehyung meanwhile was trying to distract you. “Hey, when you come down from this, let’s play video games together okay? You can join Jungkook and I in our matches! It’ll be a lot more fun if you join!”
Unfortunately, their quiet voices weren’t loud enough to drown out Namjoon’s fuming growls at Seokjin.
“I fucking told you she wasn’t ready Seokjin and you assured me she’d be fine. That she could handle it! Does she look like she’s handling it!?”
Seokjin was nothing but calm as he pet your head, soothingly running his long digits through your hair as he observed Namjoon with calculating eyes.
“Quite frankly, I don’t think you’re handling it Namjoon. I warned both you, and her how bad the pain would be-”
“She was going by a Human’s view of agonizing not a demons!!”
Jin pursed his lips.
“...It means the same thing Namjoon. I get that you’re worried but you need to calm down. Your elevated panic is only going to make her feel worse.”
Namjoon glared daggers at Jin for a moment who merely stared back impassively until Namjoon huffed and collapsed in the nearby armchair, clearly exhausted.
“Can you knock it off!? You’re both making her upset.” Jimin now was hissing at the two.
It wasn’t long until the others joined in and just as they were about to break out into full-on shouting your voice croaked out.
“If someone doesn’t check and make sure this fucking Mark thing worked so help me I’m going to kill all of you.”
Your voice was quiet and hoarse from your earlier shouting but the boys’ heads all snapped to you the second your voice escaped. You chuckled weakly. “Wish I could take a picture right now with what a rare sight this is. All of you quiet. Haha…” Your laugh trailed off into a cough, and Namjoon was the first to reach you despite being the farthest away as he helped you to sit up, touch gentle as if he were afraid he’d break you. As he sat you up his eyes widened in surprise before he smiled.
“...Well, it worked alright.”
He held out his hand and immediately Yoongi placed his phone in his palm which Namjoon used to take a picture of your back, now with a large black hexagram in the center, taking up most of your back. He showed it to you and your eyes widened in awe. “Wow...it’s big.” You confessed.
Yoongi suddenly let out the air between his teeth harshly in surprise making you whirl to look at him and whimper as a brief burning sensation occurred in the area just below your collarbone above your left breast. 6 other small burning sensations followed all over your body though no mark appeared as you were merely experiencing the phantom pain of them receiving their own Marks.
Their Marks became scorched in their skin much faster than yours but theirs were also significantly smaller.
After all was said and done they let you relax for an hour or so before mentioning if you didn't want to go to Void's, they could notify him and wait. You denied this, immediately.
"No way! The whole reason I got this Mark was so we could do this and show demonkind I'm yours."
You blushed a bit at the blunt confession and only turned darker as they smirked and Jimin cooed at you. They all smothered you with affection and attention but all too soon they were piling into a limo with you in tow, skin-tight black dress making you fidgety.
"You'll be okay Babygirl. Please try not to worry. We won't let you out of our sight. If for some reason we do get separated just yell that you belong to the Bangtan clan. Void will intervene. It's not ideal; but at least we'll know you're safe.'
Namjoons voice was quiet and subdued but confident and his words had indeed proved true in the end.
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Now you were all at the bar and you looked up in surprise as a girl you didn't recognize came up to Namjoon. "I have a victim prepared for you."
Namjoons eyes flicked to the frightened male in her grasp and you saw his lips twitch upwards in cruel amusement before he waved his hand towards you.
"I appreciate it as always Azra but it won't be necessary any longer. We have a permanent pet now. I'm sure Void will enjoy a new toy though. "
Azra apparently, looked at you and pursued her lips in analysis before she nodded.
"...I see. I understand Master Namjoon."
You stiffened and Yoongi curled his arm around your shoulders in a feigned motion of strength though you knew it was a comforting gesture. No-one called him that but you. Azra must have noticed your quiet fury since she giggled. "Sorry- forgot you were Marked pretty thing. I'll be careful from now on." She said, holding back her laughter with difficulty though her words were genuine.
You relaxed slightly and Yoongi's arm reluctantly left your shoulder as he turned to talk to Hoseok who was next to him. The boys were all sitting in oddly ornate chairs despite everyone else sitting in simple bar stools. You supposed they got special treatment as they were so close with Void. You were situated on your own but flinched before relaxing as Taehyung lifted you momentarily before gently placing you on his lap as he sat down in the seat you'd previously been occupying.
"Thanks for keeping my seat warm for me kitten. Glad to know you're at least good for something other than keeping us fed like a good little slut."
The whimper that fell from your lips was anything but fake; as was the smirk the boys all briefly shared at your reaction. Maybe the Mark wasn’t so good after all. It ensured you’d never be able to hide a reaction from them again, not that you ever really succeeded beforehand, but at least the sensations they knew you were feeling were muted to them. Now you were positive they could and would always be able to feel every last remnant of the tingles and pleasure they made you feel.
Somehow that only served to turn you on more.
Just as you were starting to squirm a little too much on Taehyung's thigh, an unfamiliar hand interrupted you as he reached towards you; specifically aiming for underneath your dress. You cowered back into Taehyung who let out a low, demonic snarl that made you shiver. He rubbed your arms soothingly, but his black eyes never left the daring demon who was roughly forced to his knees by a tall woman with red skin much to your surprise. An ifrit.
"Apologize."
She hissed lowly, and you shivered slightly at the demonic sound even though you'd heard it many times by now.
Your mind was spinning as she forced the demon's head to the floor by his neck in a humble bow. Why did she care about how another demon treated Taehyung? He could take care of himself.
Speaking of…
He stared impassively down at the now bent over boy.
"...I never want to see him in this club again."
You turned to look at Seokjin, startled by his coldness. Sure; they'd said to be prepared for cruelty but you'd been expecting a slap on the wrist and that was it.
Hoseok scoffed suddenly and you were surprised to feel Yoongi pulling you onto his lap instead and hiding your face in his chest.
You attempted to pull back but he held firm and you quickly learned why as you heard a tortured scream from the male.
"That's what's going to happen to you if you so much as think of our catch again."
Without even seeing Hoseok you could visualize his sneer as he spat the words out.
"Y-You can't do-"
The sound of skin on skin graced your ears and you whimpered as Yoongi pushed you deeper into him, shushing you quietly.
"We can and will do as we see fit. Deny us again. I can assure you you won't like the results."
Jimin's voice was filled with venom. You don't think you'd ever heard him sound so terrifying even when he'd threatened you.
"Take him away. I never want to see him again unless he's begging for mercy."
Namjoon dismissed him and you heard the demon starting to plead in the distance. Yoongi's grip finally loosened and you hadn't realized you'd begun trembling until Jungkook's hands gently cradled your own.
"I-I'm fine don't-"
"My Lords, Sir Void has prepared a room for you to retire."
You blinked and looked to the boys in confusion.
"Lords?"
You heard Taehyung chuckle to your right as Seokjin blinked at you.
"Sorry kitten; I guess we forgot to clue you in, given your our little slut and all." He smirked suavely, though you saw the way his eyes flicked to the demons watching his every move intently, wordlessly showing you that he was acting this way out of obligation and you'd need to follow suit.
"We're the next rulers of Hell. Aren't you lucky to be serving such respectable masters, hn?"
Your doe-like gaze and shock didn't need to be faked as your mouth went dry.
They...They were what!?
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A/N: And there you have it; chapter 4!!! It’s been a long time coming and there’s a lack of smut and teasing as in some of the prior chapters but I hope you like it nonetheless since I worked my ass off on it!
Please leave feedback guys- I’m a bit desperate here after all the bad shit I’ve been going through and some nice discussion and fun back and forth about what you think would really be freaking nice. Love you guys!!
#sismh: fics#ksmutclub#kim namjoon x reader#namjoon x reader#kim namjoon x you#namjoon x you#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi x you#suga x you#suga x reader#yoongi x you#yoongi x reader#kim seokjin x you#kim seokjin x reader#seokjin x you#seokjin x reader#jin x you#jin x reader#jung hoseok x you#jung hoseok x reader#jhope x you#jhope x reader#park jimin x you#park jimin x reader#jimin x you#jimin x reader#kim taehyung x reader#kim taehyung x you#taehyung x you#taehyung x reader
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If The Shoe Fits
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader
Words: 8771
Summary: An assassination at the Jelly Belly factory goes haywire when SHIELD arrives on the scene.
Warnings: NSFW (language, mentions of child pornography, smut), 18+
A/N: Happy Fourth! This is part 3 of my Looks to Die For series, written for Attie’s Challenge Challenge! Thank you @barnesrogersvstheworld! My prompt was, “You love me?” Hope you enjoy!
A portrait of Captain America. Two portraits, really, since there’s one of Steve Rogers and another of Sam Wilson.
“Huh,” you say.
The little boy gaping beside you nods enthusiastically before his attention is drawn elsewhere. You can’t quite blame him. Captain America—either or both—are fascinating, but there’s a lot going on here. Portraits line the walls. Two versions of Marilyn Monroe, one of Harry Potter, a wall of animals. There’s three whole portraits of Ronald Reagan, of all people. You can’t think why.
Not exactly what you were expecting from the Jelly Belly Bean Art Gallery.
The animals, yes. Past presidents? Not so much.
Still, it’s a far cry from your last job. Even with the absurd college student getup you’ve got on, an air conditioned factory beats the jungle any day.
You trace the sharp line of Steve Rogers’ jaw with your eyes, then step sideways to inspect Sam Wilson. Two beacons of justice, and you’ve only got two questions in mind.
One: what would they think of you?
And two: why doesn’t Bucky Barnes get a Jelly Belly portrait?
You’ve half a mind to march up to the tour guide to demand an answer to question two—he’s not likely to have an answer to question one, is he?—but a ping in your ear diverts your attention.
“Time to go,” comes Kasie’s voice.
Your lips curve into a little smile as you saunter to the tour guide. “Nature calls,” you murmur, and Kasie snorts in your ear. The tour guide turns to you with a helpful smile as you reach his side. “Excuse me, where’s the bathroom?”
—
On your way down the hall to the bathroom, you pass a tall blond man wheeling a janitor’s cart. A slight smile and a tilt of his head is all the acknowledgement he gives you.
Apart from the two of you, the hall is abandoned.
As soon as you pass him, you veer to the side, following his head tilt, and burst through a set of doors marked PRIVATE. The neutral look on your face morphs into a dark smirk.
Time to get to work.
—
Twenty-four minutes later, you’re sitting at a desk with your feet propped up. Under the desk, the curled-up corpse of the man whose name graces the office door. The computer is running a program from a thumb drive you’d hidden in your bra. An effective weapon, a thumb drive. Jab it into someone’s eye, they scream. Jab it into a computer port, and with the right coding…
Well, there’s money moving in your direction. Payment for a job well done, on top of your cut for the heart attack you’ve just induced. And a little bit more.
With gloved hands, you pick up a paperweight shaped like a clump of jelly beans.
“Y’know,” you say into the open air, “it’s strange getting paid to murder someone involved in making candy. Candy makes children happy.”
“Well, this guy was doing plenty to make children unhappy,” Kasie says.
“Oh, sure. No doubt about it.” Your lip curls distastefully. It had been all too easy to find his stash of child pornography. On his work computer, no less. Your stomach had damn near curdled at the endless scroll of files. You hadn’t opened any, but dear lord, even the file names and preview images had been more than you could stomach. And the job brief hadn’t said anything about exposing the bastard, but if he happened to be discovered dead in his office from a heart attack with that folder easily accessible…
Well, you won’t complain. Maybe it’ll help the police catch a few more perverts. Assuming the company doesn’t just hush the whole thing up, but a hint dropped in the right ears will go a long way if it comes to that.
The right ears. Your face softens and your stomach settles. All the sugar from the tasting rooms and the nausea from finding that obscene stash fades as you think of the right ears, and the head between them.
Bucky. A good, nice head on good, nice shoulders on a good, nice body… Thinking about him while you’re waiting for the program to finish running is an excellent distraction. Better than thinking about the horrible things the man at your feet had gotten up to during his lifetime.
“Oh fuck.”
Your head perks up. Kasie’s voice is strangled.
“What?” you blurt.
“SHIELD is here,” Kasie hisses.
“Why are you whispering?” you snap. You stand up, hands curled around the edge of the desk as you try and steady your racing heart. Your eyes dart around the office, but it’s empty. Just you, and a corpse at your feet. “This channel is secure.”
“Fuck you. Get the hell out of there. Now.”
“No way!” You slap the desk. Your hands tremble, and you clutch the desk again. “I’m almost done. If I can get all the shit on this guy—”
“It’s too risky!” Kasie exclaims. “I am not letting you get caught in SHIELD’s crossfires again, you hear?”
“SHIELD can suck my dick,” you snap. “I’m not giving up on this. Whoever this guy was getting his shit from deserves exactly what I just gave him.”
Faint popping through your earpiece. You freeze.
“Luka?”
Silence.
“Luka, what’s your status?” Kasie says, voice barely steady.
More radio silence. Bated breath as you wait for the third in your trio to respond.
A klaxon wails.
“Fuck,” you say.
“Evacuation,” Luka breathes, just loud enough for you to hear under the alarms. Relief floods through you until he speaks again. “Guns.”
“Okay that’s it,” Kasie announces. “I’m calling this off. That’s an order.”
“Just two more minutes,” you beg. Your knuckles, curled so tightly around the edge of the desk, are white under the plastic gloves as you stare at the download bar for your thumb drive. You’re so close. The drive is almost done, and then you can deliver the wrath of god. SHIELD has nothing on you. You survived the last time, that night you met Bucky Barnes through a rifle scope. This can’t possibly go any worse.
Kasie doesn’t answer.
Well, silence from her is close enough to a yes for you. You sink back into the chair, limbs stiff. The alarm is still wailing. Your foot knocks against the body under the desk.
Two minutes? Enough time to rearrange your victim into a plausible slump in his chair. You grunt as you tug him into the open air. You wipe your brow with the back of your wrist before hefting him into his chair by his lapels. There’s nothing worse than deadweight, but then again, that’s just part of the job. A few artful rearrangements of his stiff limbs, and you’re satisfied.
Running footsteps echo in the hallway, louder than the alarm.
“Fuck,” you mutter.
You duck behind the desk, hand hovering right by the thumb drive, and wait until a key scrapes in the lock before pulling it free. The computer beeps unhappily. You tuck the thumb drive in your bra and fold yourself under the desk.
The door unlocks, opens. Two steps, and then a low fuck before the door slams shut.
The man rushes to the desk and the dead man in his chair.
“John? John, you bastard!”
Slap.
Your eyes widen. Hitting a corpse? That’s a bit much, even for you.
“Wake up, you good-for-nothing—”
The stranger is nearly choked up. You can just make out the shadow of his shoes as he shakes the dead man by his lapels. So much for your two minutes.
“Shit.”
The stranger gives up. He nudges the chair over and bends over the keyboard, typing at a rapid fire pace. Then he sucks in a harsh breath. “Oh you bastard…”
Well, he must’ve found the child porn.
“Bribery wasn’t enough for you, huh?” the man mutters. “You sick fuck.” He’s typing again. Your legs are starting to cramp. You’re used to lying flat on rooftops, not stuffing yourself in tiny spaces.
Wait—was that the trash can noise? Is he deleting evidence?
Well that won’t do.
A harsh shove of your foot sends the dead man’s chair careening back into the wall. The typing stops, the stranger drops to one knee, and you barrel into him, arms fastening fast around his neck as you catch him in a chokehold.
“Wha—”
His voice cuts off, his fingers digging painfully tight into your arms as you squeeze the breath out of him. You grit your teeth against his struggles, your tailbone bruising against the floor as he flails his legs. You’re not trying to kill him, just to render—him—unconscious.
One of his hands drops from your arm, reaches into his pocket. Your eyes widen as his thumb swipes. The dial tone.
“Shit,” you mutter. You aim your leg, kick at his hand until he groans, but it’s too late. Someone’s picked up.
“Hello? Rick?”
Rick gasps just loud enough. You tighten your elbow around his neck, his eyes bug out, but he manages it.
“John’s—office—”
Then Rick slumps, finally unconscious.
“Rick? Rick?!”
You wriggle out from under Rick’s prone body and dig his phone out of his pocket. A single click, and his phone’s off. You pat Rick down, but he’s got zero weapons.
“What is it with these people? Why do none of them carry guns?” you grumble.
“It’s because they have armed security,” Luka grumbles in your ear.
“Luka!” You pop to your feet with a delighted grin. The edge of the thumb drive digs into your chest. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll be inside in a few minutes to get you,” he says.
Tension melts out of you. “Luka, you sweetheart.” He might look gentle, but Luka’s one of the fiercest close-combat fighters you know. If he can get to you, you’ll both get out safe.
Still, no point in wandering around as unarmed as you are now. You scan the room, desperate for any kind of weapon. Your phone is tucked in the pocket of your leggings, but you’ve still got one pocket free. A pen jar… Aha, there. A letter opener.
“Head to the warehouse,” Kasie says. Her voice is grainy. “Damn, SHIELD’s interfering with my signal. Luka, meet hsssssssssss—”
Kasie’s comm cuts out, but you got the memo.
You heft the letter opener in hand and stalk to the door. One quick breath, a listen for any sounds under the alarm, and you slip into the empty hallway at a light jog. Red lights whir overhead. Distant popping filters through your earpiece, and then comes Luka’s voice.
“See you soon,” he whispers.
A click, and all you can hear is the alarm.
—
Eleven minutes later, Doc Martens slamming on the concrete as you race through a giant warehouse, you’re regretting those extra two minutes.
“Y’know,” you pant, “whoever thought these shoes were a good idea has clearly never had to run in them.”
A gunshot rings out behind you just as you skid around a corner. You don’t look back. The armed security that Rick had summoned had caught up two minutes back, and it’s been a race to the finish. Plus, somewhere SHIELD is lurking, waiting…
Another gunshot. The bullet whizzes so close you can feel its wake. You can hear them behind you yelling at you, yelling about SHIELD on its way—
“Shit shit shit!”
Another corner looms ahead; you take it.
Still running, you pull a pin out of your hair. It’s not a comm device, it’s not a thumb drive, it’s not a bug. It’s a gift from Kasie, the very one who warned you about all this Avengers and SHIELD nonsense from the start.
You hurl yourself between two stacks of boxes before anyone turns down your aisle.
“How long?” you whisper.
“Forty seconds,” Luka answers.
Running footsteps pound close, voices echo closer, and you wince.
“Too long,” you say. “Scram, Luka!”
“Wait—”
You twist the hairpin, lean to the side, and throw it into the aisle. Then you curl into a ball and cover your head with your hands.
A heavy moment, still and quiet save for the slowed footsteps and a confused huh. One single scuff of a shoe as someone bends to look. You suck in one last breath.
An explosion rocks the warehouse. Sound and heat wash over you as the boxes at your back shudder. There’s an overwhelming urge to look, to peek, but you stay curled up, head protected, as the boxes over your head slide and start to fall. The edge of one pokes into your back, hard and painful against your spine, but at this point you can’t move. The crackle of flames is loud in your ears. The sickly smell of burnt sugar tickles your nose, and you cough. Smoke catches in your throat. You gag, eyes still squeezed shut. You breathe straight into the arm of your sweatshirt, shimmying your hands out of the burning plastic gloves and tossing them aside.
At least the running has stopped. All you can hear is a faint ringing, the alarm and something else. No one’s following you anymore, not that you can—
The box at your back flies away. Your eyes pop open and instantly swell with tears from the smoke. Before you can even move, hands are on you, pulling you up, out. Your eyes are burning, so much that you can’t see. Your assailant tugs you against their chest, holding you too tight to escape. You shout, kick, and then you realize that one of the hands on you is metal.
You still. Try and blink the smoke out of your eyes. A black uniform, straps, holsters…
“Bucky?”
“Next time,” Bucky growls, “wait.”
—
You blink the tears from your eyes, grasping weakly at Bucky’s shoulder as he hurries through the smoke. All you can hear is a faint ringing. You hadn’t expected the hairpin bomb to be so loud. Nor so… successful. So destructive?
Bombs aren’t your style. Never have been. But at that kind of disadvantage…
You couldn’t risk it. The data you’ve got—your own life—
Bucky shoves an emergency exit open. The alarm’s already ringing, at least. Smoke billows out over your head as you stumble outside, gasping in the sweet fresh air, clearing your lungs of burnt jellybeans and smoke and fire. You lean heavily against the concrete wall, head tipped back and eyes closed as you catch your breath.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Bucky hisses.
You open your eyes slowly, still breathing heavily. Your vision is still blurry, and it’s hard to make his expression out right away. “Just that I wanted to not get shot.”
Bucky glares at you. You blink, confused. It’s not like he hasn’t had to make spur-of-the-moment choices.
“I didn’t have a gun, and I can’t run as fast as you. What else was I supposed to do?”
“You didn’t tell me you’d be here!”
“You didn’t tell me you’d be here, either.” You close your eyes again. You hadn’t breathed in that much smoke, but after that sprint through the warehouse, it was enough to drain you. Anyway, Bucky’s seen you turn into a puddle before. Hell, he’s made you turn into a puddle before. You bat those thoughts away and force your eyes back open. “If I’d known there were SHIELD shenanigans going on, maybe I would have brought a gun.”
A muscle jumps in his jaw. “Why the hell didn’t you? How can you just walk in somewhere that dangerous so fucking unprepared—”
“Not all of us can flash a shiny badge to get through security, Bucky.” You gesture at yourself, at your smoking sweatshirt and the Doc Martens and the leggings. His scowl doesn’t fade, and you frown at him. “Why are you so damn pissed?”
“You should’ve known better.”
“Somehow I managed just fine in worse scrapes than this before you came along.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that I wasn’t dealing with so much shit before I met you! No one was impersonating me, no one was blowing my cover to SHIELD, no one was making my jobs impossible—”
“Well I’m not giving up my job,” Bucky says flatly. “I can’t.”
You purse your lips. “Neither can I, Bucky.”
He raises an eyebrow. You scrub a hand down your face.
“I know no non-extradition treaties rely on me keeping my job. But it’s real fucking hard to walk away from what I do. You know that.”
“Have you ever even tried?”
“I don’t want to try. And I shouldn’t have to. You’ve never had a problem with what I do before. Why now?”
“Why now?!” He gapes. “Are you tucking kidding me? You almost got killed by your own damn bomb!”
“I had a plan,” you say. “It’s not my fault you ruined it.” You toss your head vaguely in the direction of where Kasie and Luke had been—hopefully where they had been, because now Bucky’s looking that way, his eyes narrowed. If they’re caught—
But you know them. Kasie and Luka are professionals. They’re long gone.
At any rate, Bucky’s expression shifts. He tilts his head just barely to the side, eyes darting between you and the distance, and then finally his face softens. Finally.
“Of course,” he murmurs. He shakes his head and tugs you into his arms. His lips press against your temple, and you sigh, all your annoyance fading away. “I’m sorry. I just—fuck, angel, I’m sorry. I should’ve known better.”
“Yes,” you tell him. You wind your arms around his waist and squeeze tight. A comfortable silence for a few moments, but you can’t help but add, “For the record, I don’t mind being rescued by you. Even if I didn’t need it.”
His chest rumbles as he chuckles, but there’s a hint of melancholy to it. “Just wish I’d gotten to you sooner.” He steps back, looks you over. His lips twitch.
“What?” You look down, raise an eyebrow. “Something funny?”
“No, no,” Bucky says quickly. He gestures to your outfit. “I’m not used to seeing you dressed, uh, like this.”
You look down. Patterned leggings, a cropped blue sweatshirt, scuffed Doc Martens… All of it a little scorched at this point. You bite your tongue. You’re not sure if you look more like a broke college student or a gentrified hipster.
“Well, you’ve seen me in worse,” you tell him, adjusting the sweater so the wide neck bares most of a shoulder.
Bucky winces. “I’m not sure about that.”
“What, you don’t prefer this over that plain dress getup I had?” You wiggle your foot in the air. “Look! Legs!”
“Well,” he says, “at least then I knew exactly what you had on underneath.” He winks, and you can’t help but laugh.
“No hiding any thigh holsters under these leggings, that’s for sure.”
Bucky cups his hand around the back of your neck and draws you in, his smile the last thing you see before your eyes slide shut and his lips meet yours.
It’s heaven to kiss him. Always has been. Rough and needy like the first time, brief and desperate, or even like now, soft and sweet and smiling, his hand warm on your neck as his other catches your fingers and squeezes them tight.
Bucky kisses you like he’s trying to charm away all your worries, and you let him.
A woman clears her throat, and Bucky pulls back, his face all apology as you gape, gaze flitting between Bucky and a thoroughly unamused SHIELD agent.
“Sorry,” he mouths.
One pair of handcuffs, an open van, and an unpleasant shove from the SHIELD agent later, you’re starting to think that maybe you should’ve murdered the Winter Soldier when you had the chance.
—
“You know, Barnes, I wasn’t expecting to have to detain your girlfriend.”
Agent Nunez sits quite primly in her chair, her hands folded on the table over a file and her head tilted as she looks you over. Bucky, the bastard, is leaning against the wall, arms crossed and face black as he glares at his colleague. Nunez taps her file.
“So. One casualty, two cases of second-degree burns, and thousands of dollars in damages. What do you have to say for yourself?”
You set your jaw. “I want my lawyer.”
“That’s not how this works,” Nunez says. “You didn’t get picked up by the police. This is SHIELD.”
Your jaw ticks. Oh, how badly you want to snark back at her—Oh, so SHIELD doesn’t play by the Constitution? I seeee—but you don’t. You can’t. Anything you say will be twisted, dissected, used against you.
They’ve already taken your comm device. Already taken your phone. Already taken your fingerprints, height, weight, eye color… A search more invasive than any leery airport guard’s. The only weapon you’d had after the assassination was the letter opener, and that had been abandoned in the warehouse when Bucky pulled you from the fire. They’d taken the thumb drive shoved in your bra, though. You pray they’ll make good use of it. In the meantime, though?
“I want my lawyer.”
“SHIELD isn’t interested in talking to your lawyer,” Nunez says. “We want to talk to you. And the longer it takes to get our answers, the less patient we’ll be.”
Bucky tips his head back against the wall and closes his eyes. Your eyes flit to him, but looking directly at him hurts. You look away.
“She’s the associate who helped on the Malinda Jackson case,” he says.
“I’m well aware,” Nunez says drily. “Invaluable help, I’m sure.” She eyes you again, her gaze lingering on your scorched sweatshirt, your bared shoulder.
You shift in your seat and tug at your restraints. You’d cover your shoulder, but you can’t move your hands more than a few inches from the table.
“At any rate, that doesn’t explain the bomb,” Nunez continues. “That kind of bomb is exclusive to factions that we do not mix with, Barnes. Just because you got your clearance back doesn’t mean you can drag the whole underworld up with you.”
The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Shit. The whole underworld? The bomb had come from Kasie. Kasie, your friend, your mentor, your crewmate. If it’s traced back to her…
You hadn’t even thought of that. Had Bucky? Is his whole claim that SHIELD didn’t have a problem with your crew a lie? Is all this a ploy to bring them down? Bring you down?
Your eyes slide to the left. Why is he just standing there? Why did he let them take you? Did you never matter to him at all? You can’t look at him, not full-on. None of this makes sense. After everything you’ve shared, after everything you’ve said—not that you’ve said everything, but so many looks and touches and kisses…
Your stomach churns. You can’t look at him.
Instead, you stare at Agent Nunez, at her probing dark eyes and her hands folded over her file and the sharp collar on her SHIELD uniform. She raises her eyebrows at you.
“Nothing?” she asks. She sighs when you keep silent and turns to Bucky. “Barnes?”
You glance at Bucky just in time to see him glancing at you. His lips are pressed so tight together there’s barely a hint of them left.
Bucky squares his shoulders. “Send for Commander Hill.”
—
Agent Nunez uncuffs you from the table and walks you straight into a holding cell. Small, with just a low, stiff cot and a toilet in the corner. Not even a sink. It’s dim, but at least it’s clean. As spotless as the rest of the facility. And there’s an entire door, with a round porthole window. Privacy, at least, in which to rage in.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” Nunez says. Only her head is visible behind the mostly closed door. “Commander Hill is on her way.”
The quiet puff of the door closing is as final as any deafening slam.
You collapse onto the cot, cuffed hands dangling between your knees as your shoulders shake. You heave in deep breaths, desperate to keep your tears at bay. None of this is worthy of your tears. You’ve been in scrapes before. You’ve been nearly stabbed by the Winter Soldier, you’ve been nearly exposed by a woman you’d never met…
But your rationalizations rings hollow.
Bucky’s just a man. One man. A superhero, enhanced in myriad ways, but still just a man, in the end. Malinda Jackson is only one woman.
SHIELD?
SHIELD is something else. SHIELD is huge. Bigger than you, bigger than your crew, bigger than nearly the whole world. Certainly big enough to deal with aliens. And you… You’re just one woman too.
You cast your eyes around the room, but it’s impossible to discern where the camera is. Are? They wouldn’t leave you in here unsurveilled. That would just be stupid. And as much as you wish they were a bunch of idiots, you know better.
Well, if they’re smart, they’ll know you’ve been wanting to cry since Bucky looked at you in the alley with regret all over his awful face.
You lie down, bury your head in your arms, and let the tears flow.
—
The door grinds open. You stiffen. You’re still lying down, face concealed. Without a clock or watch or phone, you have no idea how long it’s been. But it can’t have been long. Your cheeks are still damp. Ten, fifteen minutes? Was Commander Hill so close all along?
The door eases shut. You hadn’t even heard anyone come in. Did they just take a look? A quick peek at the Winter Soldier’s girlfriend?
The cot dips by your stomach. A chill settles over you. A heavy hand settles on your hip, nudging you until you turn to look up at—Bucky. His face is paler than usual, his eyes wide as he stares at you. Your heart skips a beat as you blink the last tears from your eyes. He reaches to wipe your cheeks, but you sit up and scoot away before he can touch you any more.
“Why?”
Bucky’s eyes widen. His hands slowly drop into his lap.
You don’t need to say any more. He knows exactly what you’re asking.
“Because I thought this was the best way to keep you from getting actually arrested.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Your face—it was on all sorts of cameras. Not while—” He glances at the door. “Not while you were in the bathroom. But in the warehouse? They know it was you who set that bomb. There’s no escaping that.”
Your heart sinks. That’s true. Kasie and Luka had set things up so your foray into the office wing was undetectable, but the detour into the warehouse…
Damn it, that was Kasie’s call. And now you’re suffering for it.
“That’s the trouble with spur-of-the-moment decisions,” you mutter. “Spur-of-the-moment screws-ups.”
“Hey,” Bucky says, “don’t beat yourself up too much.” He slants a smile your way. “I’ve done worse.”
“Oh?”
“I almost killed Captain America.”
A laugh bubbles in your chest, but it doesn’t quite make it to your lips. “That wasn’t you, Bucky.”
“Oh, I meant last week,” Bucky says. “Definitely almost killed Sam. He deserved it, though.”
“Seriously?”
“Dead serious.” He catches your eye. “And I’m dead serious about why I did this, too. This isn’t about catching you.”
You roll your eyes. “As if you could.”
“Found you on that island, didn’t I?” Bucky’s smirk is all kinds of dangerous, and you look away, biting your tongue, as a flush pricks at your cheeks. “Besides, they knew I had you. If I’d let you go… It would’ve gone worse.”
“Right,” you scoff, but something inside you settles back in place. Maybe Bucky had gotten you caught in SHIELD’s crossfires, but it hadn’t been to hurt you, or to catch you. It’s so he can help you. He’s not out to get you. Even if things are dark right now, even if you’re in the scariest place you’ve ever been, he’s still your Bucky. Still the little shit you lo—adore.
You reach out, handcuffs clinking, to grab his hands and fix your eyes on his.
“I believe you,” you tell him. His face softens, but you squeeze his hands harder, and he stills. “Now fix it.” You pull your hands away and try to cross your arms, but the cuffs won’t let you. You huff and drop them in your lap.
Bucky squeezes your knee. “I sent for Hill,” he says. “We just have to wait. I’m sure she’ll figure something out. She… knows of you.”
Undercurrents hopefully indiscernible to whoever’s listening in, but you hope he means that Hill is well aware of your crew. And, if you’re reading him right, she’s aware too of SHIELD’s hands-off policy towards you.
“Okay.” You nod. “Okay.”
He nods back. An understanding you pray follows through. If it doesn’t…
Bucky scoots closer and angles himself so his back is to the windowed door. “Listen, I need to tell you something.”
You rattle your cuffed hands on your lap. “I can’t exactly go anywhere.”
“It’s important.” His eyes flit between yours, but he doesn’t go on. You roll your eyes.
“What, you love me?” you scoff.
Bucky’s eyes widen. His mouth opens, then closes. “I mean, I—”
“For god’s sake, Bucky, I’m kidding,” you hiss.
Bucky’s face goes blank.
Something tightens in your throat. You sigh. A glance at the door; you shift your legs so no one can see as you slide your hands a little closer to him, palm up, and glance down meaningfully. Bucky’s brows pinch together as you wiggle your fingers. Carefully, surreptitiously, he lets his fingers brush against yours. It takes all your willpower not to grip his hand so tight it hurts, tight enough so you could pull him close, hold him—
But you can’t.
“Now’s not the time,” you say, gentler.
“Isn’t it, though?” Bucky sighs and runs his hand through his hair. There’s a noise outside, one that has you both flinching, staring at the door, holding your breath. Bucky’s hand drops to the knife at his side.
The sound fades. No shadows fall against the window. You’re still alone.
“I do,” Bucky says, still staring at the door.
Your heart leaps in your chest. Words crowd in your throat, too many for you to find a single thing to say.
“I do, angel.” There’s another scuff outside the door—footsteps, you think—and Bucky doesn’t hesitate to grab your hand properly this time. He looks back to you, finally, and every witticism, every word, dies on your tongue.
Every single feeling that’s burning in your chest is mirrored in his eyes. You blink, bite your lip, swallow.
“You love me?” you breathe.
“God yes,” Bucky answers, his voice thick. His metal hand cups your cheek; he presses his forehead to yours. “How could I not?”
“You know I’m a criminal, right?”
The smallest, most beautiful huff of a laugh escapes his lips. Okay, so maybe not every witticism went away. But that’s the you that Bucky loves. You and your mouth.
“Not yet.”
Bucky stands up just as a shadow falls across the window. A key scrapes in the lock. You gaze up at him, your hand cold now that he’s feet away. Funny how easily he does that.
The door swings open, and a tall thin silhouette hovers in the doorway. When your eyes clear from the onslaught of bright hallway light, you at last make out Maria Hill.
“Barnes,” she says, “what the hell am I going to do with you?”
“Dunno,” Bucky says. He tilts his head in your direction. “I’m more interested in talking about what you’re gonna do with her.”
—
The same interrogation room, but this time Nick Fury’s right hand herself sits across from you. Your hands are back chained to the table. Unlike before, with Agent Nunez, Bucky is perched on the edge of table, twisted so he can study Hill’s file.
“So Agent Nunez tells me you were uncooperative,” Hill says to you.
“We were waiting for you,” Bucky says.
Hill rolls her eyes. “You’re not her lawyer, Barnes. Let her speak for herself.”
You open your mouth, close it. Your lawyer request is probably the wrong move right now, but… what on earth would be right? Maria Hill has the power to make you disappear. You stare at her with pinched brows, catching your tongue between your teeth.
“Or not,” Hill says eventually. She sighs. “Fine. I’ll talk it through, and maybe in the meantime you’ll decide to stop clamming up.” She sorts through the file. “I’m assuming you weren’t just there for a tour.”
You don’t signify that with a response.
“So these are the men from the warehouse,” Hill says. She tugs our the third page in her folder—three pictures, with names and one marked deceased.
You don’t react.
“All victims of your bomb. But also all armed, without permits, and records to boot.” Hill studies you with severe concentration, but your expression is bland as can be. “Presumably you wouldn’t have set off that bomb if they had been unarmed,” she continues. “But that’s not the most interesting part.”
Another page drawn out, and your heart stutters. The two men you’d encountered in the office wing, your target and the Rick fellow you’d rendered unconscious.
“Richard Cline here says he was attacked by someone matching your description in John Franklin’s office. And Franklin, according to his autopsy, had just had a heart attack. That can’t possibly be a coincidence.”
The metallic tang of blood fills your mouth. Your eyes widen—you’ve bitten your tongue? You can’t remember the last time you’ve done something so stupid. So telling. It takes all of your willpower not to automatically spit the damn stuff all across the files, all across Maria Hill.
Instead, you swallow it. Swallow your pride. John Franklin’s office had more than a dead man inside it. You lick your teeth, hoping to wipe the blood away.
“Franklin had child porn,” you say. “Lots.”
“Excuse me?” Hill’s eyes widen. She rifles through her files. “I’ve got nothing on—”
“The drive I had,” you interrupt. “Nunez took it. Sent it off to be inspected. Dunno when that was. Hard to tell time around here, what with your blank walls.”
Bucky squeezes your shoulder. Hill’s eyes flit between you and settle on Bucky.
“When did you two meet again?” she asks.
You open your mouth, then close it. A glance at Bucky. He shrugs.
“Before the Malinda Jackson case,” he says curtly. “Why?”
Hill pulls her phone out of her pocket. ���Yes, quite…” She scrolls along, but you’ve no idea what she’s looking at. “Right, of course—you’re the reason that he was so distracted when Rex Carston was murdered.”
Your vision swims.
“Damn, Hill.” Bucky’s hand tightens on your shoulder. It’s the only thing keeping you from sliding under the table in shock. “Isn’t there something about leaving stuff at the opera?”
“It’s ‘what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,’ and you were not in Vegas.” Hill shakes her head. “Wow, Barnes. I have to hand it to you. That’s a long time to keep a secret like this.” Hill looks at you with something like—approval? “You’re part of Kasiemobi’s crew.”
A roaring in your ears. You lurch to your feet, the chair beneath you clattering to the floor. Kasie—your crew—
“Calm down,” Hill says. She leans back in her chair and holds up empty hands placatingly. “You’ve got a blanket pass from us. Although… I have to ask how the hell you screwed up so badly today.”
Bucky bends to right your chair. You slide back into it, fingers trembling.
“I—” You swallow. A glance at Bucky, and you find some strength in his eyes. You look back to Maria Hill. Swallow again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Hill nods. “Fair enough. I wouldn’t trust me either. And I imagine SHIELD probably had something to do with your spectacular mess.” She collects her file and tucks it under her arm. “I’m going to confirm that tip about the child porn, and then Bucky can escort you—wherever you need to go. However.” She narrows her eyes at you both. “Open communication about your whereabouts. Try it next time.”
Your mouth drops open, Bucky sputters, and Hill strides out the door, leaving you chained to the table and Bucky with you.
A beat, and then Bucky is laughing, gripping his sides, bent over, positively cackling with amusement. You tug at the handcuffs, but neither they nor the table budges.
“I don’t—” a grunt as you try to tug free— “get—what’s so—funny!”
Bucky gasps, wipes his eye, catches his breath. But he doesn’t answer. Instead, he swoops down and clutches your face in his hands to pepper kisses across your cheeks and mouth until you’re screwing up your nose and squirming away.
“Bucky! Stop!”
He pulls back just enough for you to see the brilliant smile on his face. Despite the anxiety slicing through you, there’s a rush of warmth at that beautiful face.
God never made a man this good.
“Don’t you get it?” he says, his smile brighter than any sun. “You’re okay!”
So much delight is shining out of his eyes that you can’t help the smile spreading on your face. Bucky traces your lips with the rough pad of his thumb.
“You’re okay, angel,” he murmurs.
You rattle your handcuffs and raise your eyebrows. “You might want to rethink that pet name. Most angels don’t get cuffed to interrogation tables.”
“Most angels don’t wear Doc Martens either, yet here we are.”
You scuff your shoes against the floor and duck your chin. “I was starting to like these, actually. I know you don’t like ‘em, but…”
“Actually, this look is starting to grow on me,” Bucky says. He nudges your face back up towards his. “But you know my favorite look is the one you’ll have just as soon as I can whisk you outta here and get you—”
Your heart skips a beat as Bucky breaks off, his lips twitching. He glances meaningfully at the door. His unspoken words hangs in the air, clear as day, clear as the light in his dark blue eyes.
Home, in bed, with me.
You turn your head and kiss his metal palm, then the other.
“I like that look too.”
—
“Somehow, Hill always manages to remind me about paperwork.”
Bucky’s grumping has you giggling as he drags you up a flight of stairs to his hotel room, your Doc Martens thumping louder on their stairs than Bucky’s steel-toed boots, bless. With him, here, so close to being finally and properly alone, the stress from the longest day of your life is starting to unwind.
“She does, doesn’t she?” you tease.
Steps from the stairwell to his door, the slide of a key into the lock, and then you’re inside. Bucky triple locks the door—regular lock, deadbolt, chain lock—with brisk precision, and then you pounce.
You fist your fingers in his hair and tug his face down to yours so you can finally capture his lips. He moans into your mouth, his hands squeezing your waist without a moment’s hesitation. Every single bit of stress melts away under his touch, his lips, the feel of that beautiful body pressed tight against yours. You tug a hand free from Bucky’s hair and start on the buckles of his holsters, of his uniform. They fall easily, as they should. It’s criminal to keep this man covered for a second longer than he needs to be.
Bucky slips his hands up under your cropped sweater and pushes it up your arms, over your head. You toss it aside and fall to your knees to unbuckle the holster on his thigh, your hands dancing dangerously close to the growing bulge in his pants.
“God, fuck me sideways,” he mumbles, his hand on your hair and the other against the door. You raise an eyebrow. His knife falls to the floor.
“If you like,” you say. “I was kinda hoping to fuck you right here, but—”
Bucky tugs you straight back into his arms. He catches you around the waist, settling you at arm’s length, breathing heavily. You reach for him, frowning, but he grabs your hands and holds them tight. His eyes bore into yours as his breathing steadies. The seconds stretch by, long and agonizing when all you want to do is touch him, but he’s just looking, watching, drinking you in.
It’s not enough.
“What’s wrong?” you demand.
“Wrong?” Bucky shakes his head, gives a little huff. “I… Nothing’s wrong. Except I said something, earlier. And you haven’t said it back.”
You blink.
“Oh,” you say. You tug your hands free from his and step closer, close enough so your chest brushes his. You cradle his face in your hands, the scruff on his cheeks a tingle against your palms. Bucky grips your hips, holding you close against him. His eyes burn bright, bright as the sun, bright as the moon, bright as every single star in the universe. They’re all burning in your chest, in your heart.
“I love you, Bucky,” you tell him. You press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Only one kiss right now, because when have you ever settled for just three words? “I love you so much I think it should be illegal. I love your face, I love your body, I love your brain, I love your mind, your smile—”
Bucky grins at that. You can’t help but smile back.
“I love your soul,” you tell him.
His grin softens into something like awe, those plush lips of his just barely parted.
You trace the shape of his face, his cheekbones, his jaw, his mouth. Your whole body is full of something so warm, so tender, that you never would have been able to name it before. Before him. “You’re beautiful to me. In every way.”
“I guess it takes an killer to love a killer,” he says, lips twitching.
You shake your head. “No, I don’t think so.”
“You don’t?”
“Nah. It just worked out that way. For us.”
“I don’t think someone who isn’t in our line of work would love that part of me quite as much as you do, though,” Bucky says, grinning again. He starts walking backwards, not quite slow enough to keep you from stumbling.
“Well, they wouldn’t know just how brilliant you are,” you deadpan. “I, on the other hand, have an intimate understanding of just how good you are at your job.”
“When I’m not being distracted, you mean,” he teases, and you can’t help but laugh.
Bucky lowers his hands to your thighs and hikes you up, looping your legs around his waist as you wind your arms around his neck.
“Well,” he says, dropping a kiss on the tip of your nose, “now that’s settled, where were we?”
You tilt your head, and then Bucky grinds his hips up, his clothed cock driving straight against your core.
“Fuck!” you gasp, eyes fluttering shut. The warmth in your chest boils over, needy, desperate, sudden, hot.
“There we go,” he murmurs, eyes all but black. He slips his left hand under your sweater and claims your lips.
You let your legs fall to the floor. Bucky’s hand under your ass holds you up as he tastes you, drinking you in as you devour him back.
His metal hand kneads your breast, and you gasp into his eager mouth. Fire sparks along your spine, to your fingers, your toes, to that pulsing bundle of nerves between your legs as he takes you apart with only a single hand on your breast and his lips on yours. You’re a mess before his other hand dips into your leggings, pushing them and your panties down over your hips, baring your hips, your legs… You toe off the Doc Martens, your socks tugging free easily along with them as you work your leggings the rest of the way off until you’re just in a bra before him.
You break away from the kiss, breathing heavily. Bucky’s metal hand is still at your breast, the other is cupping your bare ass—and it feels so delicious to have his hands on you—but there’s something wrong.
“Bucky,” you whisper. “Bucky, why are you wearing so many clothes?”
“Well—” he kisses you again, squeezes your ass— “because the nice thing about your cute little outfit today was how little was actually involved.” His hand slides lower, lifting you onto your tiptoes, teasing—
“Oh!” You clutch desperately at his shoulders, still covered with that stiff uniform. “Fu—Bucky, c’mon,” you whine. You tug at his collar; the scruff on his jaw burns your fingers, but he doesn’t relent. He curls his fingers tighter between your legs until your knees buckle and your whole world is a haze. “Fuck!”
The darkest chuckle as Bucky hefts you up, back against the wall and his leg slotted between yours, his thick pants rough against the soft skin of your thighs and his arm curled around your waist.
“Usually I have to stuff your mouth to get you at a loss for words,” he muses. His metal hand tugs at your bra strap; it snaps back against your skin. The sensation shoots straight between your legs. You suck in a breath and try to focus on Bucky’s gleaming grin, Bucky’s glinting eyes. “I dunno, babe, I’m liking this.”
“Y-you like that I can’t actually get my hands on you?”
“I mean, it’s kinda nice having you like this. All soft and pretty.”
“But with just a few moments of work,” you murmur, hands seeking out his fly, “you could be all soft and pretty too.” Zipper down, you curl your hand between your bodies and grip his hardening cock. His low groan is music to your ears. “Well, hard and pretty.”
You twist your hand, thumb circling his tip, and he hisses.
“You’re fucking nuts if you think doing that is gonna make me want to put in a drop of effort.”
You tsk and grind down on his thigh still propping you up.
“The things I suffer for you,” you tease. You wriggle until Bucky lets you drop to the floor. You sink to your knees and bat your eyelashes at him, sitting demurely on your heels. You trace a finger along the seam of your lips. Bucky reaches for his cock, but you shake your head.
“No no,” you tell him.
He holds up his hands in surrender. “Don’t be a tease, angel.”
“Me?” You suck your finger into your mouth. A lewd pop as you pull it free. “A tease?” You trace your hand down your neck, past your collarbone, straight down to circle a pebbled nipple, straining against the soft cup of your bra. You don’t bother containing your shudder, your whimper. “Such an unfounded allegation.”
Bucky’s growl is, you decide, an altogether fair reaction.
“Why don’t you take that pretty bra off?” he says.
“I suppose I could.” You slide the straps down your shoulders and reach back to unhook it, the motion thrusting your chest forward for Bucky’s eager eyes. One slight shimmy, and you’re fully bare for him, curves and marks and all.
“Fuck, you’re such a fucking sight,” he groans.
“Already? But I haven’t even got your cock in my mouth yet.”
You lean forward, a hand on his thick thigh, but he puts a finger on your forehead before you can tug his cock free.
“Let’s change things up a bit,” he purrs. He tugs you up, gathers you in his arms, and carries you over to the bed. His uniform is rough against your skin, but there’s a thrill in it. Here you are, bare, vulnerable, wide open straight down to your soul, tossed on the bed like a sack of potatoes, and then there’s Bucky.
You’ve never seen him quite so much like the Winter Soldier in the bedroom. All that black material straining over his chest, his tapered waist, his thick arms, the left bared for your enjoyment. He looks so damn powerful as he stands over you. Just the sight of him staring down at you with blackened eyes and that uniform sends a rush of heat to your core.
“Bucky,” you moan.
He grins. “Who’s complaining now?”
“You will be, if I decide I’m bored of not having your hands on me.”
“Aw, angel, don’t be like that.” Bucky crawls across the giant bed, caging you in. You press your thighs together, not quite so lost as to reach for him. Instead, you let your fingers dance along your belly, the light sensation going straight to where you crave him most.
“No need for that,” he murmurs. He settles between your legs, spreads them wantonly wide to make room for his head, his shoulders. “Time to make good use of my mouth.”
Bucky dives right in. He licks a solid stripe up along your cunt, his scruff burning your thighs but you couldn’t care less. Your legs seize up, tightening around his head as your hands fly to your breasts and a gasp tumbles from your lips. When his mouth latches onto your clit, your cry is barely human.
He eats you out with more passion than usual. His tongue draws shapes against your clit, letters and numbers in more language than you know. All the while, his finger drums against your thigh, and only after the fourth repetition do you realize—it’s Morse code.
Because of course it is.
A laugh bubbles out of you.
“I love you, I love you, I love—oh fuck—I love you,” you chant, breath catching as he teases your rim.
“That okay?” he murmurs.
“Oh—fuck me, yes, yes!”
A slow push, and his finger is in your ass. It’s—it’s different, it’s dark and heady and there’s nothing stopping you from bucking your hips into his eager mouth, chasing every ounce of pleasure—of love—that he can give.
And oh, he gives. His tongue on your clit, his finger moving slow and deep, sucking and thrusting and holding you down with his free hand so there’s no escaping the oncoming precipice.
You’re gone far sooner than ever before, cunt spasming against nothing until Bucky eases two fingers in, gentle. He hums, the vibrations prompting a fresh shudder as you collapse against the mattress, every bone in your body somewhere else. You can’t see a damn thing. Only the memory of Bucky, telling you he loves you, and then it all just fades away.
Minutes pass before you come back to yourself. You blink away the stupor. Bucky sits on his haunches, sucking his fingers clean. His eyes are dark and hungry yet so damn soft as he looks down at you spread wide just for him.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs. He lays down alongside you side, cups your damp face in his warm hand. “I love you.”
You open your arms to him, and he settles with his ear over your heart and his hand splayed on your belly. You can feel dampness on his beard, and your lips curl into a smile.
“I love you too.” You kiss his forehead and breathe him in. It’s him, all right. It’s him, and he’s home.
How nice to be home. It’s been a long day. An uncomfortable bus ride to the Jelly Belly factory, an assassination, a chase, an explosion. Hours in SHIELD custody, not one but two interrogations, and the first declaration of love you’ve ever received—or given.
Yes, a long day.
Bucky lets you hold him, the silence sweet and comfortable. He’s still in uniform, the straps and buckles rough against your bare skin. You’re too tired to do anything about it. Bucky’s face is tilted up so he can look at you every now and then, but you’re nodding off. The world goes hazy around you. Bucky eases himself out of your arms. You shift, a little whine building in the back of your throat until he shushes you.
“Rest, love,” he whispers. A clink, a thud, some zips, and then he slides in beside you, his body bare and warm and perfect. With a click, the room goes dark.
You tuck your face against his shoulder. “Love you,” you mumble.
Bucky presses a kiss to your hair.
He’s here. You’re together, and you’re home.
#Attie’s Challenge Challenge#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky x you#bucky barnes x y/n#winter soldier imagine#becca writes#looks to die for#winter soldier smut#bucky barnes smut
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Raisa’s Secret
My Writing
Fandom: Arrow
Characters: Raisa, Oliver Queen, Laurel Lance, Moira Queen, Quentin Lance, Thea Queen
Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen
Summary: Oliver learns that the woman he considers a second mother has a past of her own, and her advice causes him to make a different choice regarding his secrets.
*Can be read on my AO3 or FFN, links are in bio*
Oliver’s eyes squeezed shut as the door slammed behind Laurel. He wasn’t even sure she had heard his pitiful plea to stay, torn as he had been to even utter it. Laurel needed to stay away from him so that she was safe, but he couldn’t help wanting her near. Especially now, after the kiss, after he knew Laurel’s feelings still existed…
Or did they? Not hating him wasn’t necessarily the same as still loving him, and he was lucky enough not to be hated by her. She seemed scared and unsure of herself in the moment she had pulled away, as if reality had come crashing back down on her after one, blissful moment of reconnection between them.
There had to be a million thoughts racing through her head, and he couldn’t blame her for it. Had he been faithful, had he not treated her love for him so carelessly in his past, things would be different than they were now. As it was, she had an angry father, a dead sister and her own reputation to think about. Any one of these barriers was enough to keep two people apart despite any feelings they might share, but all three? And his own secrets, the mission he had to carry out, that too lurked on the edges of what might otherwise have been the happy reunion of two lovers after his time as a castaway.
It couldn’t be. He had known that, yet his heart aches as he slowly turned at the sound of a knock on his door.
“Mr. Queen, if you're entertaining guests upstairs, should I have some drinks sent up?”
Oliver went to answer, startled to discover this so-called wait staff was carrying a gun under his tray. He barely knocked it aside before the first shot could hit him, then was knocked back onto the floor.
A million thoughts flashed across his conscious in a moment. Who wanted him dead, how to solve this, how not to give his skills and his identity away — but then, just as he reached for the tray to use as a blunt object to break the anklet monitoring device, his assailant cried out in pain and reared back, reached for the kitchen knife now embedded in his shoulder blade.
Oliver had witnessed many shocking, unbelievable things in his time away on the island and otherwise. But none had left him so shaken as what followed next.
Raisa, her eyes flashing in cold fury, moved forward from the doorway and hauled the hitman up by his shirt, spinning and slamming him into the wall. She knocked his head against it once, then jerked him back into the curve of her elbow to execute a perfect chokehold. The would-be assassin barely got his hands up to circle around her arm before slumping, unconscious. She let him fall.
Oliver remained where he was, frozen with the discarded drink tray poised to strike his anklet, as Raisa panted for breath. She took a step back and tucked some loose strands of hair out of her forehead, back into the low bun she wore.
Yet her look was the same motherly warmth he had known all his life when she at last turned to him. “Mr. Oliver, are you alright?”
“I… I don’t know,” he admitted in a daze. “Who are you?”
---
Raisa had always feared this day might come. The day when another learned her secret. And one so dear to her as Mr. Oliver!
She hung her head. “I am not some imposter. You’ve known me your whole life. But… there are things about me you do not know. Things in my past.”
She watched the young man scramble to his feet, the tray clutched in one hand. A shield of sorts, perhaps. “Is he…?” He gestures vaguely at the man near her feet.
“Sleeping. I… I have not taken a life in decades. I never wished to harm anyone again, but when I noticed him — I did not hire him for your party. And I could tell he was armed.”
“Yeah, and I’d love to ask how you could tell, but we need to make sure the authorities pick him up. Ask the staff to end the party as calmly as possible. No reason to panic anyone just yet.”
She could feel his eyes on her as she turned and went to do just that. Raisa had no doubts that once the partygoers had left and the police had been informed of the unwanted intruder, Mr. Oliver would ask the questions he wanted. And she had no lie to hide behind. She could only hope that, with his own secrets, he just might understand hers.
Mrs. Queen was most distressed when she informed her of the attack, and contacted Detective Lance right away. It seemed he had received confirmation of a sighting of the Hood, so Mr. Oliver’s freedom would be restored to him.
Except that the detective hesitated, his eyes on the fallen hitman now in handcuffs. “What exactly happened here to this guy?”
Oliver’s lips pressed together, clearly trying to come up with something.
Raisa stepped forward. “I’m afraid it was me, Detective.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Mrs. Queen and Mr. Steele’s widened eyes and Miss Thea’s gaping mouth.
“You?” The detective eyed her doubtfully.
“I was making my rounds upstairs when I noticed this man entering Mr. Oliver’s room with a gun. I panicked and threw what was in my hand.”
“Which was a kitchen knife.”
“I misplace items often. I’m coming and going from the kitchen to the upstairs, you see. I think the loud music particularly mixed me up tonight,” she lied. “But this man fell and hit his head on the dresser.”
Detective Lance glowered at them all — and Raisa could not help wondering how a man so predisposed towards mistrust and judgement could produce such a sweet girl as Miss Laurel — before hitting down her statement. “We’ll question him when he comes to at the station, but for now just don’t go anywhere.”
“I assure you she won’t be,” Mrs. Queen said. “Raisa has been with our family for thirty years. She’s completely innocent in the matter, and I for one would rather you question this man as to just why he was attempting to kill my son? Other than your ridiculous framing of him.”
The detective soon left under Mrs. Queen’s narrowed gaze, taking the assailant with him. Raisa’s shoulders relaxed, but only slightly.
“Wow, who knew Raisa was awesome?” Miss Thea asked before coming up to her and hugging her. It was hardly what she deserved; she was not innocent despite what Mrs. Queen had said. If anything, tonight’s incident showed that her long ago training still remained part of her deep down, no matter how far she’d gone to hide it.
The look she was met with from Mr. Oliver over Miss Thea’s shoulder certainly said he hadn’t forgotten, either.
Mrs. Queen ordered everyone to bed after the ordeal they had suffered, but Raisa was not surprised when her employer’s son slipped into the kitchen as she finished wiping the counters down.
“So, care to explain what you meant about not having taken a life in decades?”
She dried her hands on her apron, not quite looking at him. Instead, her eyes fixed on the knife lock missing one of its set; the detectives had taken the one she had thrown for their evidence. “It was different in the old country. You did not choose a career. You were chosen. And it was a great honor to be chosen.”
“Who chose you?”
Raisa’s eyes closed. “Komitet Gosudarstvennoy Bezopasnosti.”
“The KGB.” It was hard to detect any emotion from Mr. Oliver as he walked around the kitchen island toward her. “My parents never knew this, did they?” She shook her head. “What made you get out?”
So he was not intending to turn her in? “Time,” Raisa answered past her shock. “The assignments I was given, they wore on me. I realized, what we were doing was not protecting our home, but hurting our people.” She risked looking up at him, then. “You must hurt people to protect our home, too. But never lose sight of the path you walk.”
His eyes widened momentarily. “How long have you known?”
Raisa couldn’t stop a smile. “I told you, you are a good boy. You have only learned to harness that goodness in you. But,” she added, “I didn’t know for certain until the Hood asked Miss Laurel for help in saving that man.”
He ducked his head. “I’ve been too obvious. And Laurel… I think I have to let her go.”
“No.” Raisa lifted his chin with a hand to his cheek so he would look at her. “You will lose sight of yourself the more you push your loved ones away. Believe me.”
Mr. Oliver’s brow furrowed, concern as he gazed at her. “Was there someone you loved and lost, Raisa?”
She nodded, a lump rising in her throat. It had been so long since she had thought of Ivan. Another good man like the one stood before her, who was good enough to not ask further.
“Do not mistake being alone for being strong,” she advised him. “Everyone needs a foundation.”
“I scared Laurel, at Iron Heights. What the Hood is, it…”
“She was afraid of a stranger. She could not know what you were thinking inside.” Her hand dropped to rest over his heart. “Unless you tell her.”
Mr. Oliver was silent for a long moment. Then quietly he said, “Okay.” His lips turned up at the corner. “You really always know what to say, don’t you?”
“It is hard-earned wisdom,” she told him. Raisa walked away to hang up her apron. “Wisdom you and Mr. Diggle are free to borrow from when you need it.”
“Thank you, Raisa. And thank you for helping me tonight.” Mr. Oliver took another step closer. “And whatever else you’ve done in your past, you should know you are a good person. I learned that from you.”
Raisa looked down, not quite able to suppress the swell of pride at his words. “You should sleep. Get rest while you can.”
“Okay, I’m going.” He grinned and left, and Raisa felt the remaining tension ease out of her. Her secret was safe with Mr. Oliver, and she was free now to help his efforts openly. Raisa had felt something evil had been stealing over Starling the last several years. It was up to the man she still thought of as her young charge to steer them out of it, whether that was fair to him or not. He would need all the help from his loved ones that he could get, as much as he would allow them.
---
Laurel sat in her car outside the Queen Manor, making no move to get out as she debated with herself.
She had been up through most of the night, trying to reconcile the kiss she and Oliver had shared. The kiss that, for a single moment, had let her forget all her troubles and hurts and just be again. Be alive in some way that she hadn’t for years.
But even if she had admitted that she didn’t hate Oliver anymore, could she really open herself back up that way to him?
Her worries over that issue had been pushed aside that morning when she’d received the polygraph tests back from her father. Oliver had passed, but on the question regarding Iron Heights had caused a slight waver. Her assumption that he’d simply forgotten about their eighth grade field trip suddenly seemed suspect. And if he had lied about never being to Iron Heights… why? Was it somehow possible that he really was the Hood, and had tricked her father and the rest of the SCPD into declaring him innocent?
She had to know, so Laurel let herself out of the car and knocked on the front door. It was Raisa who answered with a pleased smile. “Miss Laurel.”
“Hi, Raisa.”
“Mr. Oliver is in his room,” Raisa said.
“Um, thanks,” she replied, a little embarrassed that the woman knew who she was here for. But she supposed it would have been obvious. Laurel headed upstairs and down the hall, knocking softly before entering Oliver’s bedroom.
He was tense as she explained her reasoning about the polygraph test, even questioned her as to why she’d changed her mind on him being the vigilante.
“Oliver, I saw your scars!”
He stared at her long and hard before speaking. “Do you want to know why I don't talk about what happened to me there? Because if people knew. If you knew... You'd see me differently.” He swallowed and said, “You already have.”
Laurel drew in a breath. “Oliver—”
“It was me at the prison, Laurel. I’m the one you’re afraid of.”
She could see him now, exactly as he was. The man who had come home to apologize to her, the man who had stood in her darkened apartment and asked for her help, the man who had gone nearly to the furthest extreme to protect her in Iron Heights. Her breath hitched, and she shook her head.
“I’m not scared of you, Ollie.” At his shocked look, she knew she had to elaborate. “I know what you’ve been through now, at least a little. What that must have done… and you just wanted to save me. I can’t blame you for what you did. That man, he would have killed me if you hadn’t been there.” She stepped forward, slowly, giving him plenty of time to move or distance himself, and wrapped her arms around him.
Laurel tucked her head under his chin. As much as she was feeling right now, it wasn’t the time to kiss him again. Not until they’d each had time to process this new reality between them. And she thought he needed the comfort far more anyway.
He folded her into his embrace, and Laurel could feel his heart thudding in his chest, gradually slowing as they stood there together. “Thank you,” he murmured into her hair.
“I think I should be the one saying that,” she pointed out. “You told me the truth.”
“I almost didn’t,” he confessed. “But… I couldn’t lose you again.”
Laurel pulled back a little to look at him, licking her lips. “I think we need to have a couple serious talks. About us, about what this all means… but I’m not going anywhere if you’re not. Promise.”
“Promise.” He kissed her forehead, and Laurel’s eyes closed for the briefest moment. “Have you had breakfast?”
She shook her head.
“Me neither. We can talk in the kitchen.” He took her hand to lead her towards the door.
Laurel raised an eyebrow. “What about Raisa?”
He smirked. “Not much gets by her. But, I know I can trust her like I trust Diggle. And you.”
Laurel matched his smile with one of her own before heading back down the steps with him. If nothing else, this new phase of their relationship to one another promised a lot of good food.
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Bloodsuckers V
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8
Genre: Supernatural AU, fluff?
Pairing: Vampire!Baekhyun x Vampire!Reader
Word Count: 1840
A/N: Fun fact, I’ve never actually been to an IKEA before so I had to do some research before writing this. (Spoiler alert: It didn’t help. Except for making me smile like an idiot.)
——————————————————————————————————
Baekhyun decides to find a car for the morning. He claims it's for added speed, but I know both of us can get there just as fast on our own feet as any vehicle. But I know he’s worried, and this is nothing more than an extra precaution. An added layer of protection if things go south. I try not to let my imagination go wild with all the ways it could happen.
It gets significantly easier once we’re on our way. Baekhyun’s worry is a tangible presence in the small quarters of the Camry but it becomes unnoticeable in the presence of all that is around me. This is my first time in proper daylight outside of our backyard and I’m struck again with how utterly beautiful the world is. The varying shades of green of trees as they whoosh by, the almost-tangible softness of the cotton candy clouds that hang overhead, the smell of asphalt and gasoline and so so many people - it’s absolutely overwhelming.
By the time Baekhyun pulls up in the parking lot, I feel almost dizzy with sensory overload. Baekhyun takes a deep sigh and turns to face me, mouth open to no doubt repeat his be-careful speech again. But amusement dances across his face as he takes me in.
“Are you…okay?”
I can see myself reflected in the warm brown of his irises. My eyes are hooded and there is a lopsided grin on my face. If I didn’t look out of it enough already, the soft whisper of “Yeah” was enough to confirm my current state of mind.
A light chuckle escapes Baekhyun and I feel my own smile widen in response. He shakes his head indulgently, and his voice still has traces of humor as he says, “Pull yourself together, will you? We have a bed to shop for, and I’d rather not have people think I’m walking around with a druggie.”
I blink a few times as I process his words, getting distracted by the soft pink of his lips, the low timbre of his voice. But finally, his words sink in, and I am able to push through the haze and remind myself of the task at hand.
Bed. Shopping. IKEA.
Right.
Baekhyun is already out of the car, and I rush to catch up with him, careful not be so fast as to draw attention. He pauses outside the doors and glances towards me, all traces of the earlier amusement gone from his face. He doesn’t say anything before he looks away, but I feel his hand slip into mine. Warmth spreads through the entirety of my body, radiating out of where his smooth skin touches mine. For a moment, I am even more disoriented than before. Then he squeezes my hand gently, a silent reminder that he was here, that we were in this together, and it is enough to pull me back and ground me to reality. I give him a small squeeze of my own before pushing the doors open and walking in.
——————————————————————————————————
Scary as it seemed at first, our trip soon turned into what any IKEA visit should look like. We spent too long looking at things we did not need, trying to figure out how certain items worked, and “testing out” furniture we had no plans of buying. We even managed to pick a nice queen-sized bed for the room. Baekhyun insisted on getting separate beds, for one each of us, but the room was small enough that there was no way it could hold two beds.
“Besides,” I reasoned, “it’s not like you need to hold me in there anymore. I’m here now…” I give a little twirl. “I can control myself.”
I tried not to look as smug as I felt when he gave in to me.
Standing next to the cashier as Baekhyun paid and gave the instructions for delivery was the hardest part. But this was the whole point of coming here, so I held firm and bore the constant itching in my gums, the ringing of pounding blood in my ears, the metallic scent that filled my airway. Before I knew it, Baekhyun was squeezing my hand again, dragging me away.
It was done.
“You did great.” Baekhyun complimented as we walked out of the store.
“Told you I would.” The slight tremor in my voice at the magnitude of control I had been exerting undermined the smug act, but Baekhyun gave me an indulgent eye roll anyway.
“Let’s hope you’re as good as piecing together furniture, or we may end up sleeping on the floor regardless of this purchase.”
“Well, I’ll have you know-“ I felt rather than saw Baekhyun’s sudden shift. “What it is?” My voice was low.
His eyes dart across the parking lot, and he utters a single word.
“Hunters.”
——————————————————————————————————
Like a switch flipping, my whole body tenses, a weapon honed and ready to be used. I stop, trying to survey my surroundings as Baekhyun had, but he continues to drag me along insistently.
“Just keep walking.” He hisses under his breath. “We don’t want to make them notice us.”
Reluctantly, I follow him, eyes and ears open to all signs of motion. I notice them almost immediately. Three guys, all in different locations, trying to block our route to the car without making it seem obvious. We could ditch the car, but that would confirm any suspicions they had of us being supernatural.
We are almost at the car when the first man reaches us.
“Excuse me?” His gruff voice ring out and Baekhyun and I turn in unison. A glance at Baekhyun confirms that his face is schooled in an expression of polite curiosity and I can only hope my expression matches his.
“You dropped this.” The man continues, extending a fisted hand forward. A moment of silence passes, and I wonder if I’m imagining the tension lingering in the air. Baekhyun extends his own hand, subtly shielding my body with his. The man drops whatever he is holding in his hand, and Baekhyun closes his own hand over the object before I can see what it is.
“Thanks.” His smile is forced, and his body rigid as he turns his back to the man.
I watch as disbelief and relief war on the man’s face, before realizing that I, too, should be going to sit in the car.
My steps are slow and shaky as I head towards the passenger side, ears peeled for the movement of the man’s feet. A heartbeat passes. Then another. Finally, I hear the soft taps of his boots on the gravel. My shoulder practically sags the close call. But the relief is short-lived.
The man has barely started walking when the smell hits me. It was unmistakable. The scent of charred flesh. Realization hits both of us and the hunter at the same time. My head whips to look up at Baekhyun across the top of the car, confirming my suspicions that it indeed was his hand that was burning from whatever object had been placed in it courtesy of the hunter. Pure iron no doubt for it to already be smelling so bad. Our eyes meet for a split second, and I barely have time to read the silent command in his before my neck is being grabbed, my body shoved against the metal of the car.
No survivors.
Gathering as much strength as I can in the small area between the car and the huge weight behind me, I elbow the man holding me captive. My inhuman strength is enough for him to lose his grip on my throat, and I whip my body around as fast as I can. He’s already coming towards me again, fist raised to slam into my face directly. It’s a move I’ve spent years deflecting, and my body reacts before my mind even has time to process what’s happening. I duck out of his range of motion, hands moving to grab his arm and twist him around. But I miss entirely. My hands clench around thin air as his fist slams into the car, arm inches from where my empty hands are clasped.
I don’t have time to focus on the momentary surprise when the man reels back again for another shot. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see another woman behind him, pointing a gun at me.
Deciding that my best bet was to keep my man as close to me as possible to prevent his partner from firing a shot, I lunge towards his throat, attempting to get him into a chokehold. Except I’m still off. My body curls around his entirely, going much too far beyond his neck and onto empty open air. But at least my brain is faster now, I’ve realized I’m in the wrong spot before he’s even had a chance to turn. Focusing to make my actions slower than before, I reach for his neck, digging my fangs into the soft flesh. I’m still too full to drink any blood, but that doesn’t stop me from ripping his throat out. Dark, rich blood is still spilling from his throat when the gun goes off.
My ears pick up the sound first, followed closely by my nose smelling gunpowder. Then the pain hits. My mind clouds with agony as my shoulder flares in pain, bursts of it radiating throughout my entire body. I fall to my knees, realizing, belatedly, that I had exposed my entire back to the shooter. I think I’m screaming but there is a roaring in my ears through which I cannot hear anything else. Warm wetness trickles down my back and I realize it is my own blood. My nails tears at the clothing on my chest, reaching, reaching for the piece of metal lodged in my body.
I don’t feel the hands that touch my back. Or maybe I would’ve panicked more. Tried to get out from under them. Tried to protect myself. The first thing I feel is the fingers digging into the wound, ripping the skin that is already trying to seal over the bullet. The pain numbs when the same fingers wrap around the piece of metal, but I still feel the trail of fire that the iron traces as it weaves it way out of my body.
Residual pain still lingers through my body, but slowly, so slowly, my hearing returns. And I hear Baekhyun panting behind me. My knees are still too weak for me to attempt getting up but I still twist around to look at him. He has a frazzled look about him, but the fact that his gaze is still on me is enough to tell me the danger is over.
The body of the woman at his feet only acts as confirmation.
“Can you get up?” His voice is hoarse.
I don’t think so, but I can’t help give him a small nod.
“Good.” He clenches his jaw. “We need to leave. Now.”
#baekhyun ff#baekhyun fluff#baekhyun scenario#baekhyun series#exo baekhyun#superm baekhyun#baekhyun fic#vampire baekhyun#baekhyun#byun baekhyun#bloodsuckers#hyunnie writes
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Remember, Remember - Chapter 2
Since Mulder is color blind in one episode only, I'm choosing to ignore this tidbit of information. Now he can appreciate Scully's gorgeous red hair. You're welcome, Mulder.
This chapter has been checked by Hemingway Editor and Grammarly. No Betas were ‘harmed’ in the making of this installment.
A big thank you to @mulderwantstobelieve, @frangipanidownunder, @greycoupons, @if-the-seascatchfire, and @baronessblixen for coming to the rescue when the English language got me and bit me in the butt. I hope there are no other bites left unnoticed by my Portuguese-native-speaker brain.
As always, feedback is much appreciated and cherished. It feeds the muse. Chapter 1 can be found here or at AO3.
xXxXxXx
Chapter 2
I drive my car as fast as I can to Scully’s place, hoping that no officer tries to stop me for speeding. The last thing I need right now is to waste time being pulled over and having to flash my badge. The streetlamps wash over me, wave after wave of dark and light. Buildings and a few vehicles buzz by me in a blur, as I change lanes and outpace slower drivers.
A chill runs down my spine as I wonder what I might find when I get to her place. Will I find her blood smeared on a piece of furniture along with some of her red hair again? Will this be the time I will find her lifeless body lying on the floor?
I halt at a red light, tires screeching. Fingers drum the steering wheel and I move my head from side to side to look at the intersection. I ease the car forward, inch by inch, and take advantage of the lighter flow of cars to run the red light.
A black sedan behind me does the same trick.
I keep looking at the rearview mirror and the road ahead of me alternately. The car is there. It is always there on my tail. My hands sweat.
As I enter George Washington Memorial Parkway, darkness surrounds me and I can only count on my headlights to show me the way. Fewer cars can be seen on the road, so I press the gas pedal further.
The black sedan behind me does the same thing.
I try to think of a way to mislead my pursuer, but all my ideas will slow me down and that I can not allow. I just keep driving and, even though the AC is on, the sweat drips down my body. One of my hands searches my hip holster to feel the cold of my gun. A sigh escapes my nose and I return the hand to the wheel again.
After a few miles, I use the left lane to merge to Washington Boulevard, and the black sedan follows suit. My heart races faster, the mouth gets dry and I have to wipe the sweat out of my forehead. I grip the steering wheel as I keep driving around the Memorial Circle, instead of taking the right to the Arlington Memorial Bridge. The sedan, this time, continues onto Memorial Avenue making me release a deep breath and regain the circulation on my fingers.
One more turn in the roundabout and I proceed to the original route, grieving those precious minutes lost to my paranoia. The Potomac River flows under me through the stone-arch bridge in an almost mockery. On both sides of the road, tall streetlights run by me. They lead me to Valor and Sacrifice, but The Arts of War are soon left behind in a blur of bronze.
I pass by the Lincoln Memorial, hoping to be a savior as well, but to the reunion of Scully and her mother. The reunion of Scully to her future. I must save her one more time and balance out the endangerer plate on this scale of my role in our former alliance.
I finally reach the short buildings of Georgetown. My cell phone goes off and I fumble to answer it without losing control of the car.
“Mulder, where are you?” Asks Langly on the other end of the line.
“I’m getting to Scully’s place.”
“Don't bother. Come to our office.”
“I need to check if she is all right! Or at least if there is evidence that can help me find her!”
“She's never made it home, Mulder. We’ve got something to show you. Come quick.”
My cell phone falls. My hands turn the wheel fully to the left and the car skids to another lane, facing the direction where I came from. Squealing the tires, I drive off towards the Gunmen’s office.
“We managed to hack some CCTV systems and we found footage from a camera near your place. It's from early this morning,” Langly says, as he turns on the computer screen for my inspection. “Take a look”.
I sit on the chair in front of the screen and he presses the play button. In the grainy, black and white image, I recognize Scully crossing the street towards her car. She had parked some blocks away from my building and is now grabbing the car keys from her pockets. A white van halts next to her and a pair of arms tries to grab her from behind. Her elbow pounds the man’s chest. Then her knuckles find his nose. The man falls down to the ground and Scully tries to reach for her gun. A second man leaves the van and encircles her arm and neck in a chokehold, preventing her movements. She kicks his shin. His free hand places a white cloth on her face, making her movements slow down to a sudden stop. The guy on the floor stands up and grabs her feet. They place her torpid body inside the van, then get in the vehicle as it speeds off.
“Where was this van headed?” I ask.
“We’ve lost it after it reached Jefferson Davis Highway.”
The one that leads people to the airport among other places. A cold wave washes over me from head to toe as I realize that by now she could be in Timbuktu.
“Were you able to do your technological tricks and identify the plate?” I ask.
They shake their heads with eyes cast downward. I pick up my phone and dial Skinner. I explain the situation and ask for an APB for a vehicle matching the description from the one on the video. I pace the room running my hands on my hair frantically. There has to be something that the Gunmen’s untrained eyes could not catch. That's why I ask them to rewind the footage.
“Mulder, we have watched all these videos over and over while…”
“Rewind the damn footage, please!” I interrupt Frohike.
And they do it. Over and over again. After the fifth try, they teach me how to rewind it myself and leave me alone with the computer. I watch it one more time. Then another. And another. I try to burn it inside my mind. After almost an hour watching those same minutes, my eyes are the ones that seem on fire. I thump the desk, stand up and start to pace the room again. Think, Mulder. Think!
“Mulder, you need to calm down and think straight. You will find her! You always do.” Says Byers.
“It’s different this time!” I grab the clipping from the newspaper I had found this morning by my front door and show them. I had been keeping it in my jeans pocket since then.
“‘Doctor accused of pedophilia found dead’? What does this have anything to do with Scully?” Asks Frohike.
“This is the man who gave me the directions to all the clues in this case. He was murdered because he was feeding me information. Because we got too close to unveiling everything. First, he was discredited and then killed. Now they got Scully! They are targeting everybody who had aided me in exposing them!”
I book myself the next flight to Dallas and rent another car as I arrive there. I thank my eidetic memory as I try to drive the same roads that had taken me and Scully to the domes and the cornfield. The scenery around me looks different, though; the colors are more vivid as the sun is getting high in the sky this time. The air conditioner can barely keep up with the heat from the desert outside.
My eyes burn and I'm not sure if it's from not blinking enough or the dry air around me, but I focus solely on the drive ahead. One more time I reach the intersection at the end of the road. Without a second thought, I drive forward leaving a trail of dust behind me. Finding the train tracks, I follow it down, stop by the same hill and climb it.
As I reach the top, my chest tightens and I shake my head in denial. I can’t believe my eyes. Instead of domes and cornfields, all I see now are flames, burning everything down.
I fall down to my knees and weep.
I fly back to DC. There's just nothing left for me to do. No leads, no double agent informants to point me where to go. Nothing.
My eyes burn even more and now all the muscles in my body complain. That's what almost sixteen hours driving, and seven hours in airplanes can do to you. I drag my sorry, dehydrated ass out of the disembarking area. To my surprise, though, Skinner is waiting for me.
“Where the hell have you been, Mulder?”
I have no energy left, so I just keep walking as if he had never been there. If he follows me or not I don’t notice. And honestly, I don’t care. With every step, a deep breath to try and keep the tears out of my eyes.
My arm is pulled. Skinner is demanding to know of my whereabouts and I see red. I make a lunge at him but am easily subdued by his alertness. He drags me out of the airport and into his car. Then everything is black.
“Mulder! Wake up, Mulder! We’re here!”
“Where is here?” I ask without bothering to open my eyes.
“Your place.”
I look out the window and notice night has fallen again. Another lost day. I must be too dry to shed tears, but my blood boils. Time was pivotal in disappearance cases. Didn't he know that?!
“Why did you bring me here?! I need to find her!” I try to leave the car, but Skinner has still to unlock it.
“You are not going anywhere, Mulder!”
“They took Scully because I got too close to the truth. I need to find her, damn it! She is danger!” I jingle the lock to the door to no avail. “Unlock the fucking door!" I shout.
“Mulder, listen to me!” Skinner barks and that stops me in my tracks. “You’re not going anywhere! You are not thinking straight. You’re just committing amateur errors and putting yourself in danger.” He sighs and softens his voice “You are not doing Scully any favors with such behavior. Get some rest and let the FBI handle this.”
“One more thing.” Skinner adds “Why did Scully come to your place around 8:20 p.m and only left in the early hours of the following morning?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“It is if you are breaking the FBI's fraternization policy.”
“We are not.” No lie in that statement, as she was not my partner anymore. “What does it matter anyway, she’s moving to Salt Lake City.”
“Listen, we will find her. Get some rest and get ready for your OPR session tomorrow. I know the timing is the worst, but there’s nothing we can do about it. And it's your job at stake here.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“You saved my ass once. I owe you one and this is the least I can do. Good night, Mulder.”
The lock clicks and I am out of the car. Skinner drives away as I get upstairs and pass out on my couch once again.
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Only For A Moment Ch. 39
Master: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin
Pairing: Bucky X Reader
Summary: For most of your life you’d been able to keep your abilities a secret, that is until Hydra got wind of you. After years of being in their clutches, you break out when The Avengers expose SHIELD/Hydra. Since then, you’ve been on the run. Things are going as well as you could hope when you see a familiar face… Could the Winter Soldier really be in Bucharest too?
Warnings: Slight, uh, consensual violence but other than that just fluff(ish)
A/N: My babies, my firstborn fic, how I love them so. Once again thank you all for being so patient! This is a shorter chapter but it just needed to be solo and not with what is after this. I hope y’all like being back with these two. I know I do.
Tags are open!
When the sun finally peeks through the windows you’re on your side, face hidden in Bucky’s chest, bodies pressed as close as you can get them.
He kisses the top of your head. “Do you want coffee, doll?” You shrug, unsure you want him to let you go. He squeezes you, “Come on, we can watch the sunrise.”
Bucky releases you and sits up. For a moment you feel untethered without his skin against yours. Until you look at his torso.
“Oh god, Bucky!” On his left ribcage and near the middle of his abdomen are large dark purple bruises, the faintest touches of green on the outer edges.
“I’m ok, Y/N,” he insists. You ignore him knowing what could be under them. Gently you lay your hands over the bruises, sending your power into him. You hate this. Hate that you can do this. But-
“Y/N, what are you-”
“You could have internal bleeding, or a cracked rib, or a clot, or-”
“I am fine, baby,” he tries to move your hands away but you don’t let him. Your sense seeks out anything that could be life-threatening. You’d only ever used this to harm… “Can you really feel if somethings… wrong?”
You can’t look at him, just nod.
“That’s incredible.” You want to tell him it’s not. It’s monstrous. Being able to feel inside of someone like this makes you feel less than human… you don’t though because he’d stop you and you need to be sure you didn’t hurt him more than what was obvious.
Once it’s clear that he really is ok save for some nasty bruising you sigh and sit back on the bed, your head falling into your hands. “I could have killed you…” It’s barely a whisper.
“I shouldn’t have grabbed you like I did. I-”
“I could have killed you, Bucky!” You snap.
“Ok. And I could have killed you the other night. We’re even.”
You stare at him, jaw slack. Even.
“Y/N…” He moves to stroke your cheek. You slap his hand away and shoot to your feet, turning your back to avoid the hurt in his eyes.
Your mind flies back to your determination to survive when you thought he’d come from Hydra to collect you, to his statement a couple of days ago about using everything you had in you to fight for yourself and those you love… He’d been so right then—about your fear.
For thirty years you’d been terrified of so many things but the first true thing you’d learned to be afraid of was the person in the mirror. All that fear meant you never learned to control this force which somehow lived inside you, not really. Hydra had sharpened its edges but didn’t necessarily teach you how to wield it; you were their weapon after all, not your own… Now your lack of control put the man you loved at risk. Maybe if you could control it, control your strength, your body and this…
“Bucky,” slowly you turn to face him braced for any emotion to be written on his face but the patience you see there. Your words catch in your throat, momentarily overwhelmed.
Tender hands cup your face as his lips press gently to your own. Some of the tension immediately melts away.
You loved him, it still made your head spin but to the marrow of your bones, you knew this truth. Reluctantly you break the kiss, looking into his eyes, warmer than their slate blue color had any right to be.
“I want you to train me.” He blinks as if trying to clear his vision, expression disbelieving. “What I did…” Your hands hover above the bruises.
“Doll, you weren’t-”
“In control,” you cut him off. “I know. That’s the problem. You barely put a scratch on me the other night because you can control yourself, you understand what you can do. I’ve never been in control.”
“I’m not exactly qualified to help you figure out your ability, Y/N.”
“I know. But if I can understand the rest of… me better… maybe I can sort that part out on my own.”
His lips curl, arms crushing you to him, “I know you can, baby.
Spitting mud from your mouth the next morning you’re beginning to regret this whole idea entirely.
“You gotta get up faster than that, darlin’.” You shoot him a sidelong glare and pull his feet from under him.
He falls but to prove a point is up and in fighting stance in a blink. Bastard.
Groaning you stand. “Can we please take a break?”
“We’ve only been working for two hours.” His cocky smirk makes you want to punch him in his beautiful face, “You can’t tell me you’re already tired.”
It felt so much longer than two fucking hours. You’d thought yesterday afternoon had been tough—running, testing your strength, pull-ups, other physical activities you loathed. All that was nothing compared to sparring with Bucky, it was like being against a machine, even with him holding back.
You roll your eyes putting your tired body back into position. Before you’re fully ready he has you in a chokehold, this time without restraint.
Your breath cut to just a trickle, your power begins to rise but you press it down. Control, you want control.
“I know they taught you to fight,” you struggle to break free and fail. “I saw it when you got away from me on the balcony,” his voice is low, breath hot and tantalizing on your ear. “But you’re only able to think like a fighter when you’re panicked. That’s not gonna work.” He loosens his grip just enough to keep you from passing out.
“What they did to you didn’t just affect your body, it changed your brain too.” He kicks your feet out, catching your legs between his own as he lowers to his knees, effectively trapping you. “You think faster, absorb details better, but you aren’t used to it so you push back unless you’re in fight or flight.”
Darkness presses in. Panic explodes in the back of your mind causing you to lose your grip on your power. It beings to push against Bucky’s hold on you as you flail.
“No,” he growls closing the few inches you’d placed between you, grip once again tight on your throat. “Think. They trained your body but not your mind, you’ve gotta use everything together to be in control. Think, Y/N.”
He said it like it was so simple but… Maybe it was. With effort, you force the curtain of panic to the side. Instead of holding tight to control though—you let go, allowing your subconscious to take the wheel without fully getting out of the car.
In an instant, your brain buzzed with information. Consciously you push away the bits relevant to your power and instead focus on nothing but what you can do with your body. The out is suddenly so clear you’re embarrassed you didn’t see it before.
Bucky’s arm may be around your throat but he’s not truly restraining your head, instead keeping your left arm pinned with his own. Your head slams back into his causing his grip to give just enough so that your right arm can slip through his elbow breaking his hold, allowing oxygen to fill your lungs. Pivoting your body forward with all your strength you manage to gain enough leverage to slam you both backward. His grip releases fully. Shooting to your feet you press your boot to his throat.
Blood pours from his nose but his smile is bright. “Good job, baby.”
A day later he looks back at you, perched on the kitchen table, with an exaggerated expression of concern. “I have terrible news, doll.”
“What?” Your brows knit.
He holds up the empty coffee canister, “We’re out.”
“Well, that’s just unacceptable.” Honestly, pretty much everything was gone. “I cannot be expected to work in these deplorable conditions, Sergeant.”
“I wouldn’t dream of asking it of you.” He strolls before you, kissing your lips. “You ready to head back to the city.”
You look around the sparse kitchen before sighing and wrapping your arms around his waist. “Yeah…”
“We’ll be back soon.” He pulls away, tone light, “Besides, you’re nowhere near done training.”
“Much to learn you still have,” you say in your best Yoda voice. A laugh bursts from you at his confused expression. “My god, you haven’t seen Star Wars. We have to fix that.”
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Thighs & Pizza
Pair: Loki x Reader
Word Count: 1.9 K words
Warnings: Some cursing. Some fighting. Some fluff ^_^
Summary: Reader is a seasoned agent of SHIELD and is one of Fury’s right-hand people, so it’s only reasonable that he assigns them to keep tabs on the Avengers, right? Fast fwd; (Y/N) has been living with the Avengers in the tower for 3 years now and Loki for half that long. Naturally, like a good agent, (Y/N) despises Loki and he despises them. Mutual hatred. Or is it?
A/N: This is my first time writing a fanfic in a loooooong time. I tried to keep the reader gender neutral but if I slip up plz let me know so I can fix it! Thank you!
Y/N = Your name
N/N = Nickname
“Come on (N/N) you can do better than that!” Nat playfully yells at me after she tosses me over her shoulder. I landed flat on my back on the training mat, some of the air being knocked out of my lungs. That didn’t stop me from chuckling, though.
“Oh, Natasha. My dear, sweet Nat. You’re right.” I playfully said, a mischievous gleam in my eyes as I quickly grab her ankles and twisted myself at lightning speed. My motion harshly brought her to her knees before I rolled on my back and got her head locked in between my thighs. Before I could even continue, she taps the mat repeatedly.
“Ok, you win! Let me go!” I release her and both of us flop back onto the mat, Nat breathing a little bit heavier than me. “Jesus Christ, those thighs are no joke!”
We laughed as she playfully patted my thighs. I stood up and pretended to model. “Why thank you, madame. I work out every day so my legs may reach maximum... leginess? Damn, I thought I was on a roll”
Nat laughed some more, and so did the other Avengers in the training room. At least, all but one; the Horned Trickster. Loki just brooded in the corner, avidly ignoring whatever Thor was trying to tell him. I just glared at him. He has the same attitude as when he first arrived.
-
Oh dear Gods...
“No. No! Absolutely not!” Tony protested, joined by a chorus of the same response from the other Avengers after Thor came through the door with his raven-haired criminal-of-a-brother in tow. I instantly went into defense mode.
Grabbing one of the daggers I keep holstered on my hip, I flung it at Loki and barely missed his head by a hair; literally. The dagger lodged itself into the wall next to his head before he slowly looked from them to me, his wide eyes clearly showing shock before he adjusted himself. Everyone just looked at me before Tony went, “What (Y/N) said. No.”
“Please, I swear my brother no longer has any intent to harm... Well I mean destroy, um... Look, Loki has agreed to reform himself and help give back to the world he tried to destroy. What better way to do it than under our care?” Thor boomed, putting his arm around Loki’s shoulder as said criminal rolled his eyes.
The Avengers were still wary about Loki, but after A LOT more convincing from Thor (and some ground rules set), they reluctantly agreed to let the Trickster stay.
Oh joy...
-
Over the time Loki has been here, he has somewhat tried to help. Hell, I’d be lying if I said we didn’t find his powers useful on missions. It’s just that damn attitude of his that gets on everyone’s nerves. Loki acts like he’s so high and mighty. Someone needs to knock him down a few pegs.
After training, the all of us went to the kitchen to get dinner. Tony had ordered pizza and I was excited. When I got there, all of the boxes were open and most were empty. Everyone else had gotten all the other pieces like the savage beasts they are. The only person left in the kitchen was Loki. He quickly caught me staring at him and responded with a smirk, to which I only responded by raising a brow in confusion. What was he up to?
I shook it off and reached for a slice of pepperoni pizza that was calling my name. I wasn’t even a few inches away from it before a pale hand snatched it from my line of sight. I whipped my head around to glare daggers into the god’s head.
He looked at MY pizza, then back to me. I shook my head and took a step forward. “Loki, I swear to-”
He didn’t even let me finish before he started devouring my pizza! MY PIZZA!
“Oh I’m terribly sorry. Were you about to say something?” He gave his signature shit-eating grin. The same grin that gives me funny feelings. More importantly, the same grin that is EATING MY FOOD!
I gave no warning before I leaped on him and got him into a chokehold in between my thighs. He, however, counteracted this by pulling me down to be more level with him and shove me against the wall. He pinned my arms up, tossing the pizza on the floor so he could give full attention to me.
We just sat there, breathing heavily, my legs around his waist and my arms pinned up, staring into each other’s eyes. What was in his eyes? They seemed so much bigger than before. Why have I never noticed it? I felt my heartbeat race. Was it from the fight, or maybe...
I thought I saw Loki lean in before coughing at the entrance of the kitchen caught our attention. We looked over to see Tony staring at the both of us in this... compromising position. We quickly readjusted ourselves and stood as far away from each other as we could in the kitchen.
Tony just chuckled before getting a drink. As he walked out, I could hear him yell, “Next time, don’t do it in my kitchen guys.”
Needless to say, I felt utterly embarrassed. I couldn’t even look anywhere above the floor, much less Loki.
“Y-You can have the pizza.” I stuttered before running to my room and slamming my door shut, making sure to lock it. I stumbled to the bathroom to take a steaming shower before I got dressed in a t-shirt and underwear and laid in bed, all the while my mind reeling over what just happened.
Why did he have to steal my food? Why did I overreact like that? I did just get back from a mission this morning, was that it? Am I just stressed? Was that why my heart was beating fast, too? The rush of it all? Was it that nerve-wracking grin? Why did he pin me against the wall? Why did he stare into my eyes? Why did it look like he was leaning in?
All of my thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock on the door. I looked at the clock; 12:17 AM. Who is coming to my door at this hour? I quickly get up and open the door, not caring about how I look before I did.
A shocked Loki was behind the door, now looking sheepish compared to his personality earlier.
“Oh! I, um... Well I, uh... I didn’t think you would...” He was rambling and rubbing the back of his neck, looking down at the floor. Was he always this... cute? Before I could say anything, he shoved a huge box into my hand. It was a pizza box from (Pizza Place). I opened it to see it was half pepperoni and half cheese. I gave him a questioning look before he huffed a laugh.
“I took the liberty of getting us another pizza considering we didn’t get to eat.” He gave another grin. I would’ve been hooked on his smile if it wasn’t for ‘us’ and ‘we’. “Ah, right, well you obviously didn’t get to eat earlier, and I didn’t either because a certain person knocked the slice I had out of my hand, although I wasn’t that fond of pepperoni, but I was thinking-”
“That we could share a pizza?” I finished. He gave a slight nod and I grew more confused, but after another look at his face I couldn’t say no. I opened my door wider so he could come in before shutting it. I settle the box and myself on the bed, but then I noticed he hadn’t moved far past my doorway. I gave another confused look and patted the bed before he coughed and pointed at me. I looked down and realized, “Oh shit!”
I scrambled to my dresser to put on some pants, and while doing so I tripped myself and fell flat on my face. “Ow...”
Loki just looked at me and laughed. “This is the person Fury sends to babysit the Avengers?”
“Just because my legs fail me now doesn’t mean they can’t put you in a chokehold like in the kitchen.” I threatened before getting up and finally pulling on my pants.
“Yes, well, one of my more pleasurable experiences on Midgard. Especially by a person as attractive as you. ” He said. I stared at him with wide eyes, and he did the same, knowing what he said. I could feel myself blushing as I fiddled with the ends of my shirt. Was this real? He not only complimented me, but he called me attractive.
The kitchen, the pizza, the teasing. I realized then he only ever teased me with no real malice in his words. I just stared at him as he walked to the door. He put his hand on the knob before saying,”To Hell with it.”
Faster that Pietro, he rushed to me, grabbed my face in his hands and brought his cold lips to mine. The shock of it all didn’t stop my eyes from closing and melting into the kiss. I felt something in the kiss that I cannot explain. Something that made me feel like I could fly.
He wrapped his arms around my waist, bringing me as close as he possibly could. He had me wrapped so tightly, almost as if he was afraid of me slipping away.
We only broke away to catch our breath as we leaned into each other, our foreheads touching, and just stared into each other’s eyes. “That was-”
“I know.” He finished, his arms still wrapped around me. Now I know what I could see in his eyes that I couldn’t figure out before. “Love.”
“What?”
“I love you.” He clarified, and I could feel my heart almost leap out of my chest. He loves me? “I’m reluctant to say I have for a while now. Ever since you threw that dagger at my head when I arrived. There was a spark in your eye that I couldn’t get out of my mind. I have seen many people in my lifetime, but you, my dear, are by far the most irresistible creature I’ve ever met. I know this is sudden, especially with the way I’ve been treating you these past years, but would you consider being mine?”
“Yes,” I said, no hesitation in my voice. He leaned back and looked surprised. He gave me a look as if to say ‘Are you sure?’ “There’s a reason Fury put me here. Because I follow my heart, and it usually leads me down the right path.”
“And what does your heart say now?” I grinned before wrapping my arms around his neck.
“Shut up and kiss me.” He gave a genuine smile before diving to give me a kiss. One full of passion and love from both ends. He loves me and I love him, there is nothing more that needs to be said. It feels like it ended too soon, but we had to pull away for air once more. We simply looked at each other and giggled like a couple of lovestruck teens. He grabbed my hand and kissed my knuckles while looking into my eyes, still smiling.
“Come, love. The pizza is getting cold.” I laughed, not caring. I had my Trickster and he had me.
#loki#loki laufeyson#marvel#loki x reader#loki fanfic#avengers#avengers x reader#loki imagine#loki oneshot
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So Long, Sharkboy And Lavagirl… || Clove + Itona + Takako || MM Trial
[CW: Strangulation with hands, mouth trauma, emetophobia]
“You feel alive now, Reiko-chan?I hope you do”. Ah yes, the classic Takako Gloat. Eyes wide, that alligator-toothed grin still wide on her face.
This really was the good life.
Fired up is really the only description you could give Takako right now. Her eyes still shone with that fiery, fiery asshole energy. Some more laughter, more and more and more, before she was finally cut off.
Finally.
Clove watches Reiko approach Takako with resignation and worry, knowing she couldn’t and shouldn’t stop what was about to go down. Reiko could handle herself in a fight, though, so it would probably be fine? Right? She winces, seeing both the detective and the fashion blogger go down - this was starting to look less like a fight and more like a heavily sided beat down.
The moment Reiko, her darling, tries to get away but is dragged back with a punch to the face, leaving her face bloody, Clove feels a pang in her chest and starts tearing across the trial room. Snapping her hair into a bun with a green scrunchie, she approached. A combination of her girlfriend getting beaten up, Takako (Takako) being Takako, the rage that had gotten worse with every mistrial, and their circumstances made Clove just…not care anymore. Either she or Takako would bleed (more), and she didn’t care who did at this point.
While the fighting’s stopped, Clove’s already over here…so, might as well? She uses the momentum from running to jump onto Takako’s back mid-jeer. 12. Although Takako tries to shake her off, Clove clings angrily to her back. She then tears at Takako’s hair while yelling.
“Why didn’t you just let her go, huh? You- you..! Geh zum Teufel!”
14. She claws at Takako’s hair like a mean child. Ouchies.
“Clove-chan, what the shit?”
Takako seems…. mildly surprised as she like attempts to shake her off. Is this Lesbian Fight Club or something?
Itona watched that first fight between Reiko and Takako with mild interest, though he mostly just concentrated on trying to stay out of the way so he doesn’t get dragged into it. He thought it was over as Reiko moved on but out of the corner of his eye, Clove suddenly moved from his peripherals to jumping on Takako’s back. He sighs.
“(Fuck…guess I’m involved in this now.)”
He marches over and tries to take Clove off of Takako’s back.
8 versus 20. Itona cannot. Clove is koala clinging to Takako.
A laugh from Takako, then another
“The hell is this lol??”
A grab at her back then makes her register that someone else is nearby. Interference wasn’t something she was expecting? Clove looks at Itona (it was Itona, right?) over her shoulder and says,“Go away! This is personal!”
Stoic and stubborn as ever, Itona doesn’t let that deter him as he tries again to just pull Clove away from Takako.
"Christ. Don’t care.”
1 vs. 19, Itona can’t reach. Clove’s foot keeps him away. Clove doesn’t budge. While Takako’s yelling angrily and tries to yank down Clove’s hair, she responds by screaming and attempting to punch her in the nose. It’s a stalemate. 4. They both do the thing, but it’s like watching babies fight. Takako’s still yelling barely comprehensibly at Clove.
(Cw: mouth trauma)
Itona gives a huge sigh, this is not going as well as he hoped. He really didn’t want to have to use this on someone. He rolls up his sleeves, pulls out his wand, and uses the Liars Dance spell on Clove.
19. Clove is now sandwiched between Takako and Itona, attached to Itona by their obis. She is…not a fan of this.
1. While trying to bite Takako, Clove bites her own tongue from the sudden jolt of being a sandwich. Blood runs down her chin, and she yells out an incomprehensible string of words in German.
(Cw: strangulation (with hands))
Takako, at the same time, reaches for Clove’s throat. 12(-1). It’s a really awkward awkward grab since Clove is behind Takako, but she kinda has Clove by the throat. Ish. This is a really weird and unwelcome sensation!! Itona tries to break apart Clove and Takako away from each other, but 1. Clove is like glue to Takako. Itona can’t remove. 5. Clove punches a pressure point on Takako’s neck, baby bap.
While scrambling to get Takako’s claws away from her throat, Clove yells to Itona,
"Why… are you defending…her?”
Itona isn’t having it, and he’s just focused on tearing the two girls off each other.
“I’m not. This is just highly unnecessary. Ironic since you said we shouldn’t get off course at the start of the trial.”
Well, he’s not not wrong. Clove doesn’t care, though, and just snips back at him.
“You didn’t even speak in trial til it was over…don’t preach to me.”
“I barely speak.”
While they’re having some good banter and trying to beat each other up, Itona just keeps trying to separate the two. 12 versus 14. Clove’s leg strength is strong. She’s not budging, Itona. Takako interjects then, suddenly.
“Just shut the fuck up Clove-chan!! Man, I thought you and Reiko-chan shared more than one brain cell!”
Clove tches, clinging on for dear life.
“Tough words for some dummkopf who can’t even fight me by herself!!”
“I beat up your girlfriend just fine~! You two don’t know when to stop lol”
“At least I have one! The best you can do is spit at Suzuki and hope something happens, you ogre-looking-”
“Haha?”, tears of laughter erupted from her eyes, before she gave another cackle, Right now?? Why am I crying?, “You think any of the grody ass gals here are anywhere near my standards?? What have I got to choose from?? A mint aero or my fucking grandmother??”
And with that, Takako was in a state of pure, unadultered rage. She swivels around to grab Clove in a chokehold. Clove, meanwhile, lets out something as close to a cackle as she can and goes to headbutt Takako.
“Fine. Die alone then, your mascara’s clumpy.”
12(-1) vs. 8. Takako’s grip on Clove’s neck is too strong, even with her impaired arm. She has the upper hand here. 16. Takako chokey, and she grins, not the usual punchable grin though, one of pure malice. No headbutt.
“Seems like you’ll be the one dying alone~!”
Right now?? Why am I beginning to rage? Takako holds on tighter. 14(-1). Takako is scary. Her grip tightens, despite 4. the nails digging into her arm weakly. The two girls stare each other down, both furious.
Meanwhile, Itona is still trying very hard to seperate the two. 2. He’s doing his best! But not enough as he just can’t break apart the two girls. As 2 versus 13 (-1) Clove’s spell goes wide, streaking high over Kris’s and Shino’s heads, 11. Itona creates a small gap between Takako and Clove, still attached to him by their obis. There’s a small pause as they stare at each other wordless before Takako raises a hand to slap Clove in the face and Clove goes for a punch to the face.
13 versus 10(-1) and 9. Itona pushes Takako further away before either girls can get a hit on the other. Itona turns himself around so his back is facing Takako.
“Enough, both of you.”
Takako’s still seething but she actually stops. She’s visibly angry though. Not revelling in the violence like she usually is.
Clove pauses for a moment, breathing heavily as she wipes blood from the corner of her mouth. But for now, she’s stopped. Her voice is absolutely filled with bile.
“…she took her chunk of flesh from Reiko, so why can’t I have mine from her?”
His eyes narrowed slightly, his voice firm as his tone indicated he was not having anymore of this shit.
“Do it after this shit trial is done. If the silent dumbass is telling you to get your shit together then you must be doing something wrong.”
Itona lowers his voice so only the two of them can hear, and a brief exchange happens while Itona tries to separate himself from Clove. 2., 6., he’s unsuccessful for a while. Clove is only jostled around like she’s in a pear wiggled.
After their exchange, Itona also turns to look at Takako. Takako’s still silently glowering at Clove through all this.
“You’re still not off the hook, but I just find this shit to be annoying, especially since it’s happening near me.”
Takako’s uncharacteristicly silent, still stubbornly refusing to speak. She is….actually really pissed. She turns, as if to walk away from her own podium.
Itona mutters to himself as he just keeps trying to wiggle apart. Clove lends a hand, although she pauses a considerable amount of time as if she’s considering stubbornly ignoring Itona’s words. She whispers something like, “…want to talk to you after this.” Itona looks almost genuinely surprised, though immediately shifts to suspicion.
“…..Weird, but fine.”
(Cw: Emetophobia)
1 + 17. Itona jostles Clove more. Wiggling intensifies. Clove has managed to wriggle away at least. 1. Wriggling was too intense. 19. She gets sick onto Takako’s feet. A faint, “Oh shit.” is Itona’s response to this chaos. Head bowed with one hand desperately holding the strands of hair that have escapes her bun away, Clove starts…giggling? The oxygen deprivation was absolutely getting to her, it seemed.
“…you make me sick, Imai.” This was intentional. This was totally intentional.
Itona looks slightly concerned, standing awkwardly near Clove and the aforementioned vomit.
“……….Are you actually okay or are you going to vomit again.”
Clove somehow clambers to her feet with as much dignity as she can muster, wiping her mouth roughly with a handkerchief while looking miffed. She grumbles something to Itona quietly, followed by a louder, “I- hm. I wouldn’t want to impose?” Her focus then shifts back to Takako, apparently unsatisfied.
"Imai. We can finish this some time after trial, if you’re up for it. Maybe bring a spare pair of shoes?” She…smiles, but it doesn’t seem that sincere.
Takako just glowers back from her corner.
“Stilettos then.”
A small cough from Clove. Oof, her windpipe’s seen better days.
“Not very functional, but I’ll honor your choice in footwear. See you then~”
Itona shrugs at Clove. Her choice, he guesses. He then goes over to Takako.
“Are you okay? You literally got into two fights back to back”
Takako’s not looking at him.
“Yeah I’m fine lol.”
“….Cool….lol….” He felt that the “lol” he tacked on at the end was weird. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before he directed his focus to Takako again. “If you need someone to help you to the infirmary after, I can. Just…don’t expect this from me. Whatever you guys do after all this is none of my business.”
With that, the three of them seperate. So long, Sharkboy and Lavagirl. Itona goes back to his podium, Takako lurks ominously in a corner of the room, and Clove takes some water from Takako’s pensieve to wash off her face and moves slowly back over to the Byakko side of the room. She gives Reiko, Kris, and Shino guilty glances as she reclaims her place.
#mahouichi#chrono#chapter five#mm trial#clove#itona#takako#submission#strangulation by hands cw//#mouth trauma cw//#emetophobia cw//
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