#and like don would not be able to say any of this shit without crying. if anything she could think of it like one of ray's rewards | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astralkoo · 3 years

Text

The Snack Thief (M)

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Genre: neighbors au, smut

Rating: 18+

Words: 6.4k

Summary: in which your annoying, younger neighbor has a nasty habit of breaking into your apartment late at night and stealing your food.

Warnings: strong language, technically breaking & entering, broke college student struggles, older!reader, Jungkook saying noona, explicit sexual content; sub!jungkook, dom!reader, blowjob, kitty gets ate, sixty-nine, very mild degrading (jk gets called a slut like once), needy jk, fingering (m. receiving)

— author’s note; it’s been a minute, hasn’t it? i’ve been trying to get back into my groove so hopefully this is the start of a very active and productive summer for my writing. also! this is cross posted on my new wattpad account bckupbabies so if you see it on there, that’s me don’t worry!

You woke with a start, heart pounding, skin drenched in cold sweat, fear gripping at your chest.

There's someone in your apartment.

It was a split second realization, one that ripped you violently from the gentle thralls of sleep and had thick, stifling terror settling like heavy stones in your gut. Sucking your lips into your mouth to prevent your breath from coming out too audibly, you strained your ears, listening carefully. At first, all you could make out was the soft whirring of the fan above your head. But then—

Thud.

In an instant, you were out from beneath the covers, a shiver rushing down your spine as the cold night air nipped at the exposed skin of your arms and legs. Instinctively, your hand shot to the nightstand, rushing over the smooth wood surface, seeking out your phone. Only— it wasn't there. Shit. You must've accidentally left it on the counter last night. Shit.

Gritting your teeth, you stumbled through the darkness, bracing a steadying palm against the wall to guide yourself across the bedroom.

"Where is it, where is it, where is it?" You hissed, searching blindly for the item you're always sure to keep near your bedside in case of a situation just like this. It didn't take long before your fingers grazed the smooth rubber grip of your old-reliable baseball bat. You let out a cautious exhale and moved silently towards the door, careful to avoid the floorboards that squeak.

Keeping your back against the wall, you stepped into the short hall. You could hear more clearly without the separation of your bedroom door; the heavy footsteps and low grumbling voice. It wasn't just your sleep hazed mind playing a nasty trick; there was someone in your goddamn apartment. A combination of fear and rage heated the blood currently rushing through your veins, the thundering of your pulse almost deafening in your ears.

Another loud bang sounded through your apartment and your shoulders tensed.

Were they even trying to be quiet? What a shitty burglar. They should've done their research before busting in. You were a broke college student working at a freaking campus cafe just barely able to afford paying your rent every month. The most valuable thing in your apartment was probably the ultra soft two ply toilet paper you'd splurged on last time you went shopping for basic necessities.

And you'd be sure to bash the bastard's head in before he could lay his greedy fingers on your precious two ply.

Letting out your fiercest battle cry, you swung your bat over your head and launched yourself out from behind the wall, poised for the attack. The man in your kitchen, who was elbow deep in your snack cabinet, shrieked (incredibly un-burglar-like, you might add). The sound was so high pitched and sharp that you flinched, startled as he whirled around clumsily, not only banging his elbows but tripping over his own feet in the process. You were barely able to catch a glimpse of his face before he fell, disappearing behind the counter.

But something about that scream was vaguely... familiar?

"Jungkook?"

The top of his head peeked out from behind the countertop, familiar doe eyes blinking back at you sheepishly. "Hi, noona."

The tension in your shoulders immediately melted upon realizing that you in fact not being robbed by an armed lunatic— rather, you were being robbed by your annoying next door neighbor. Again.

"Are you out of your mind?!" You hissed sharply, frustration flaring, "it's fucking three in the morning! Why the hell are you in my apartment?"

"I was hungry!"

"That doesn't explain why you're here!"

"I was craving ramyeon but I ran out! And– and you always have extra anyway so I thought you wouldn't mind!"

"Ha! You thought I wouldn't mind—" You gritted your teeth, on the verge of seething when you noticed he was still ducked behind the counter. "Why are you still hiding? Get over here." So I can beat your ramyeon stealing ass, you added in your head.

"Drop the bat— then we can talk." He bargained, nodding pointedly towards your weapon, still poised for attack.

Grunting, you reluctantly released the handle, letting it fall to the floor with a sharp clang.

Jungkook let out a low breath of relief, before meekly stepping out from his position behind the counter. Your eyes immediately dropped to his hands, still desperately clutching onto two packets of ramyeon.

Pinning him with a glare meant to reprimand, you crossed your arms firmly over your chest. "Jungkook, you can not keep—" your scolding was abruptly interrupted by a low, thunderous rumbling, your gaze jumping in surprise to the younger boy's face, which was now donning an embarrassed blush. "W– was that your stomach?"

Sucking his lips into his mouth, he nodded, head dropping in shame.

A wave of sympathy washed over you upon realizing just how hungry he must be. Any anger at having your sleep ever so rudely disrupted quickly fizzled out, the tension in your shoulders dissipating as he shuffled his feet shyly.

"Geez, this brat." You muttered under your breath, trudging over to where he stood and snatching the ramyeon packets from his grasp. He looked up at you with wide, pitiful eyes, and you could tell he thought that you were going to kick him to the curb. Instead, you jerked your chin into the direction of the couch and said, "go sit down while I make these. Don't need you hovering over my damn shoulder."

It would be a lie to say your heart didn't flutter a little at the sheer amount of excitement that lit up his face, pink lips breaking into a wide, uncontainable grin. Deciding not to push his luck, he quickly bobbed his head and scampered over to the couch, tossing a bubbly, "thank you, noona!" over his shoulder as he went.

You scoffed, though the corners of your mouth tipped upwards in spite of yourself.

The kid was cute. You'd give him that much. With those big shiny eyes and that stupid bucktoothed grin. Even if he was a perpetual trespasser and a food thief to boot, you'd let his little indiscretions slide... for now.

The ramyeon didn't take long to make, but, even all the way across the room, you could practically hear Jungkook's stomach growling up a storm by the time you were pouring it into two separate bowls. He was squirming on the couch, peaking over the back of it with wide, wanting eyes, damn near drooling at the mere smell of the sodium soaked noodles.

"Don't spill," you warned with a click of your tongue as made your way to the couch, handing him one of the bowls, "eat this, then go home, alright?"

Jungkook was already stuffing his cheeks before you'd even finished speaking, but he paused to pout over at you upon processing your words. "Noona..." he gurgled in soft whine around his mouth full of noodles, making sure to swallow before he finished, "why do you want me to leave so badly? You're hurting my feelings."

You scoffed as he pressed a large hand to his chest, wincing dramatically as if your words had somehow truly wounded him. "Do I have to remind you that it's 3am? I was sleeping. I would like to go back to sleep. I was having a very good dream before you fucking broke in to my apartment and tried to rob me." You hissed, plopping down on the couch beside him and shoveling your ramyeon into your own mouth.

Damn. That shit was good.

"I wasn't robbing you." He protested weakly. You raised an unconvinced brow. "Just... borrowing."

You barked out a laugh. "Oh? So you were planning to return all the snacks you were about to steal?" His eyes lowered, a guilty pout turning the corners of his mouth downwards. "Yeah, didn't think so."

"Still..." he grumbled bitterly, looking up at you through his thick lashes. "I'm much more fun than sleep."

You snorted. "I beg to differ."

There was an uncharacteristic lull of silence, and you spared a questioning glance in Jungkook's direction, not expected to be greeted by the astonished expression painted across his face.

He looked... genuinely offended.

"Noona," he sounded rather distraught as he set his half eaten bowl down on the coffee table before turning his body fully towards you, "how could you say that?"

Your brows lifted expectantly, confusion swimming in your gaze. "What?" You laughed lightly, not understanding why he suddenly seemed upset. You were just joking around... had you accidentally hit a nerve?

"You have fun with me." He insisted once more, a certain desperation to his words.

"Yeah... when it's not 3am."

"Liar." He scowled, gaze dropping to where his fingers were tracing miscellaneous shapes on the fabric of your couch. "That's when you have the most fun with me."

His voice had dropped into a low whisper at that last part, so you had to strain your ears a bit to make out exactly what it was he was saying. At first, you were confused. The most fun...? But then you saw the faint blush coating his cheeks, the shy fluttering of his lashes, the nervous fidgeting of his fingers...

And it clicked.

A few weeks ago, you did something stupid. Something you shouldn't have done. You'd given into urges that should have remained buried deep, deep inside of you.

"Jungkook." Your voice held a warning pitch as you growled his name. He shuddered ever so faintly at the shift in your tone and quickly turned away from you, snagging his lower lip tightly between his teeth.

"It's true..." he grumbled petulantly, kicking his foot lightly against the leg of your coffee table.

You stared at his profile through furrowed brows, gaze hard and unwavering as you set your own bowl onto the table. "We talked about this, Jungkook. We agreed not to bring it up again!"

"No, you— you made that decision all on your own." He protested quickly, thrusting an accusing finger in your direction. "I made no such promise."

"Jungkook," you sighed heavily, squeezing your eyes shut and pressing your fingers into your temples as they throbbed, "what I did—"

"We," he corrected, leveling you with a stubborn glare, "what we did. Stop acting like I wasn't a willing participant."

"You're a kid—"

"I'm nineteen! I can make my own decisions!"

"No. You can't."

At that, his expression hardened, lips pursing, fingers curling into tight fists, eyes flaring with determination.

"Watch me."

In the next second he was on top of you, straddling your lap, large hands cradling your jaw as he pressed his warm lips purposefully to yours.

Startled, your hands leapt to hold his waist, instinctively steadying him. The rest of your body remained stiff and unresponsive, frozen in shock from the sheer unexpectedness of the kiss. It wasn't until Jungkook let out a soft, pleading whine against your unmoving mouth that you were kickstarted back into motion.

"Jungkook," you gasped out his name, somewhat more breathlessly than you intended, hands rushing between your bodies to push him away by the swells of his firm chest, "w–what are you—"

"You want me." The younger boy swiftly interrupted, his warm breath caressing your lips as his fingers gripped gently at the back of your neck. "You want me. You can't deny it. You said so."

You were goddamn dizzy. "When did I—"

"Fuck, Jungkook. You have no idea how long I've wanted this. How long I've wanted you." It took you an extra second to realize that he was quoting back your words from that night. Word for fucking word. Heat rushed to your face, your hand gripping harder at the thin fabric of his top.

"How do you even remember that." You grumbled bitterly, embarrassed at having been called out.

The corner of his mouth curled into a small, teasing smile. "I have a pretty good memory."

"Bullshit," you scoffed, "I can't count the number of times you've forgotten to bring back the shit that you 'borrowed' from me. I bet you have a fucking closet full of my sweatshirts."

"I didn't forget... I just didn't want to give them back." He informed you in a soft, lilting hum, running his thumb over the smooth cut of your jaw.

"Thief." You spat, but the word lacked any real fire. It sounded weak on your tongue, a soft fluttering of breath that easily could have been mistaken for a moan. You saw his eyes drop to your mouth, desire pooling within them, so thick and dark that you felt it polluting the air around you, polluting your lungs with every jagged inhale.

He shifted on top of you, strong thighs squeezing around your hips. You tried to pretend that you didn't feel the press of something hot and hard against the top of your leg, but the tremble of your eyes and the clench of your fingers were not easily mistaken.

Jungkook sunk his teeth into the delicate flesh of his lower lip, and your gaze followed the motion unconsciously. You didn't even realize you were staring at his mouth until he spoke in that low, hoarse whisper, ripping you violently from your trance.

"Can I take a little more?"

Your brain was screaming at you to say no, screaming at you to not be selfish, to not be greedy. To not want something so terribly that you felt it trembling through your very bones. You shouldn't want this. Shouldn't want him. He was too young, too naive, too sensitive. You'd break the poor boy before he even realized what happened.

You should say no.

Mind made up, you opened your mouth, fully prepared to reject the boy and put a stop to whatever the hell this had become, right then and there. You were prepared to be the responsible senior that you needed to be, for both his sake and yours.

But what actually came out was something entirely different.

"Yes."

Jungkook barely had time to let out a happy whimper before his mouth was back on yours. A soft groan rumbled in your chest as your arms curled around his slim waist, tugging him ever closer. Long fingers tangled in your hair, he gently tugged your head back, leaning himself over you in order to deepen the kiss. You permitted him to do so without resistance, lips parting to allow his eager tongue to invade your mouth.

His body was hot and heavy above yours, but you didn't mind the added weight, the pressure on your thigh probably the only thing keeping you grounded. Because the heat between your legs was a anything but grounding. Sticky and wet, an accumulation of unspoken need and neglected lust that refused to be ignored for even a moment longer. A bleary haze fell over your mind, all the blood in your head suddenly rushing downwards to feed the growing flames in your groin.

The first roll of his hips was so minute, so slight that you would have missed it completely had it not been for the soft, airy moan that escaped his throat. The second was less than subtle, a hard, deliberate grind that rocked his already half-hard erection against your stomach. You felt it there, where your shirt had ridden up to expose a thin strip of skin, the front of his sweatpants growing thick and damp with his steadily increasing arousal. Your grip around him tightened, nails biting into his clothed hips hard enough to have crimson flowers blossoming across his golden flesh.

The sting coaxed a strained moan from Jungkook's inflamed lips, the rolling of his hips growing more frantic. You were quick to steady them, not wanting him to overexcite himself too soon.

"Calm down." Even in your own ears, you voice sounded thick and unstable, and you silently cursed yourself for having gotten so worked up by a mere kiss. But, in your defense, it was one hell of a kiss.

"I'm calm." He insisted unconvincingly through harsh pants, fighting for oxygen but not willing to pull away from you lips long enough to actually breathe. Quite the dilemma.

You chuckled softly, sliding a hand up to grip his jaw, preventing his mouth from finding yours for just long enough to soothe the fierce burn in your lungs. He took that opportunity to strip himself of his top, tossing it haphazardly to the floor.

You felt your stomach tighten, taken off guard by the unexpectedly display of glowing, sun-kissed skin you found before you, stretched across thick, toned muscle that flexed and tightened with even the most minuscule of movements. Subconsciously, your tongue slipped out of your suddenly dry mouth, dragging over your swollen lips.

Jungkook mimicked the motion, reaching down with ink embroidered hands to grip your wrists, gently guiding them up the length of his fit torso. "Touch me." It was a plea, the low whimper lacing the words a dead giveaway of his unyielding desperation.

You didn't hesitate to comply.

Pushing forward, you set vengeful teeth upon his prominent collarbone, biting down just hard enough to leave your mark. He moaned loudly, head falling back as your nails raked over his sensitive nipples. A violent shiver transversed his body, goosebumps rippling across his exposed skin that was set on fire by your greedy touch. He found the back of your head and neck with trembling hands, urging you closer without use of words. You kissed up the length of his taut throat, sucking and licking until you were content with the colorful array of bruises you'd left in your wake.

"Kiss me." You whispered against the defined curve of his jaw, wanting another taste of those pretty little lips. His head dropped forward obediently, mouth open and ready to be received by you. Fuck, he looked so hot from that angle; dark, hooded eyes pooling with lust so deep you could drown it it, kissable, rose petal lips glistening and swollen and just begging for attention, full cheeks flushed a dangerous shade of red that only enticed you further.

How could he look so ruined? You hadn't even touched his dick yet.

The thought roused a scoff in the back of your throat, and Jungkook pulled back slightly at the sound. "What?" He asked, the tip of his nose brushing yours.

"Nothing..." you grinned lazily, before kissing him slowly, deeply, lustfully; kissing him in such a way that the poor boy was trembling in your lap, gasping and whining by the time you pulled away with a lewd smack, lips wet and stained an erotic crimson. You chuckled as he swallowed, pupils blow and unfocused. Reaching up, you cupped his chin, rolling your thumb over his lower lip. He sighed, eyes fluttering as he teased the tip of the digit with his tongue.

"... just wanna put your dick in my mouth."

At that, his shimmering doe eyes popped open wide, shocked— then excited.

"Don't tease me." He pleaded weakly, hips stuttering over your thighs.

You reach between your bodies, taking the time to revere the fine-tuned slopes and edges of his ridged abdomen, before finally finding the hard outline of his flushed, angry cock straining against the thick fabric of his sweats. He gasped brokenly at the contact, forehead falling against your shoulder as he gripped desperately onto your arms, dull nails digging into your biceps. You turned, smirking lips feathering over the shell of his pink tinted ear.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

And then, he was on his back.

Jungkook let out a squeak of surprise, chest heaving as he attempted to process the sudden change in position. But you didn't give him the chance, slotting yourself between his spread thighs

"W– we didn't do this last time." He stuttered clumsily, staring up at you with those wide, dangerously innocent eyes that made you want to absolutely wreck him.

"No, we didn't." You confirmed, nipping lightly at one of his pert brown nipples. He jolted, letting out a low, unsteady moan of your name, a cry for your attention.

"S– sensitive, noona."

God, he is so fucking cute.

"I'll be gentle." The reassurance did little to soothe the violent thundering of his heart, the heavy thrum of it setting his every limb to shaking.

He was nervous. You could tell. Understandably.

Truth is— Jungkook was a virgin.

Key word: was.

As in, before he broke into your apartment at 3am on that fateful morning where you lost your cool because damn did you he look good in that skin tight black t-shirt that showed off those sexy tattoos and those thigh hugging black skinny jeans that squeezed his cute butt in all the right places. Of course, you didn't discover that until after the deed was done (seeing as he hadn't had the mind to tell you while your tongue was shoved halfway down his throat).

But god, you felt so guilty. You'd never taken anyone's virginity before. And you weren't so sure fucking on a kitchen counter was the most... romantic way of losing it. It had been quick, messy, all sweat and teeth and nails, the blunt edge of the cold counter digging into your ass.

Sure, it felt fucking amazing, and you'd received no complaints from Jungkook's end. But still. Had you known, you would've been... gentler. Or, at the very least, you would have had the tact to take him to bed.

You hadn't even blown him for fucks sake.

So, if you were doing this —and, as it appeared, you were most definitely doing this— then goddamnit, you were going to do it right and make up for all the things you hadn't done his first time.

You descended his body slowly, taking your sweet time licking and nibbling over all his lovely curves and sharp edges, marking the places you'd been with pink, flowering bruises. His head kicked back, mouth falling open around an onslaught of heady moans as he reveled in your unrelenting affections. Distracted, he didn't even notice you slipping his pants down his legs until the cool air hit the sensitive tip of his weeping cock.

"N– noona!" He propped himself up on his elbows, desperate to see you, to find your eyes through the disorienting cloud of lust he found himself engulfed in. Arousal spun his brain into useless mush inside of his skull at the sight of you between his legs, looking right back up at him, pretty mouth hovering just above his hard need, soft breath caressing the feverish skin.

"Relax, Jungkook. It'll feel good." You chuckled, pressing a soothing kiss to his hip.

"I– I know," he swallowed, and you didn't miss the dark blush creeping into his cheeks as his eyes fluttered shyly, "I just— I want to make you feel good... too... b- because last time you didn't..."

Last time you didn't...?

Oh.

"Okay," you hummed simply, pushing yourself up with an easy smile, "I can think of a solution."

Jungkook watched with bated breath as you stood, damn near choking on his own spit when you abruptly shoved your pajama shorts down your legs. "N- no underwear?" He whispered, voice hoarse and strained as he stared unabashedly at the bare expanse of smooth skin between your thighs, glistening with sticky wetness.

You smirked faintly, appreciating the reverence glistening in his melting brown eyes. "For convenience sake," you teased.

He flopped down on the couch with a dramatic groan. "Fuck, you're killing me."

Leaning over the younger boy, you pressed a deep, purposeful kiss to his delicate, lovely lips, eliciting an appreciative moan from his burning chest.

"Don't worry..." you pulled back, breathing the words into his open mouth, "I'll do it slow."

"Fuck..." he squeaked.

Laughing softly, you dropped your knees to the edge of the sofa and splayed a hand over his toned stomach. He was hard and warm to the touch, and you liked the way his muscles flinched and fluttered beneath your palm.

"I'll tell you what I'm gonna do," you pressed your lips to his throat, feeling the way it bobbed as he swallowed, "I'm gonna get on top of you..." you walked your fingers down towards where his dick lay, red and leaking across his belly, "and you're going to eat me out," he moaned shakily against your cheek, hands lifting to grip your arms, "while I suck your pretty little cock. How's that sound?"

"S– so good. Fuck, that sounds so fucking good." He pulled at you greedily, begging you with wide, wanting eyes.

You caved to him all too easily, carefully maneuvering your body until you were situated above him, knees planted on the cushion on either side of his head. Hot breath rushed over your exposed core, sending shivers ricocheting down your spine. Hands gripped at your thighs, rough and calloused against your skin. He was pulling again, whining out soft, shuddering "please, please, please" as he tugged at your hips, trying to get you closer. Closer.

Teasingly, you kept your hips raised, just out of reach of his ravenous mouth, so eager to steal a taste. "Noona," he whined petulantly, "don't be cruel."

Cruel? You nearly scoffed. You haven't even begun.

Regardless, you decided to end the torture there, lowering your hips until you were within his reach. He didn't let a moment pass before his tongue was on you, lapping eagerly at your wet slit. You gasped, clutching tightly onto the thick muscles of his thighs, your own legs growing weak under his relentless ministrations.

Holy shit. You didn't expect it to feel that good.

It was only when Jungkook's hips bucked beneath you, a pleading whimper vibrating through your center, that you realized you weren't fulfilling your end of the deal. Stuttering back into motion, you encircled his hard length in an unsteady hand, feeling the raw heat of it throbbing angrily within your grasp.

"You're good with your tongue, baby." You chuckled breathlessly, pumping him slowly with the help of his spilling precum. He moaned in response to the praise, long fingers digging in hard to the flesh of your ass. Another, more violent tremble wracked your body as his tongue dragged over your sensitive clit, the responding rush of pleasure pulling a low groan from your chest.

Shit, if he kept that up—

Feeling that you'd given him enough of a head start, you dipped down, swiftly engulfing his glistening tip in your lips. Jungkook gasped against you, and you could almost picture his eyes snapping wide open, jaw going slack. The blissful pressure of his tongue gave way to cold air as he tensed and shuddered beneath you, all those hard, rigid muscles turning to jelly as he processed the mind numbing sensation of your mouth around his cock. It was an unwelcome absence, and you quickly found yourself growing impatient and —shamefully enough— needy, your aching core craving attention.

But Jungkook was a mess beneath you, moaning and whining pathetically as his hips bucked and spasmed, entirely overwhelmed. His arms were wrapped around your waist, holding you so tightly you were certain you'd be feeling it tomorrow. You felt his tongue, sloppy and uncoordinated lapping at your folds with a desperation that set your blood to flames. The vibrations of his sounds resonated through your clit, and you hastened your own movement, feeling yourself clench and throb with your impending release.

You pulled off of him with a lewd pop, a thin string of saliva connecting his swollen tip to your lower lip, before sliding your hands beneath his ample thighs and tugging.

"Lift your legs for me, baby."

He obeyed immediately, feet rising from the cushion, too lost in your intoxicating taste to second guess what you were planning. At least, not until he felt your touch shifting from his thighs to his ass, and a warm, wet dribble of saliva sliding over his hole. He flinched violently, a gasp shooting from his lips at the unfamiliar sensation.

"Ah–! N- Noona, where are you touching—" he yelped, trying to sit up and catch a glimpse around the shape of your body. Swinging your ankles up to rest against his shoulders, you forced him back down, looking back at him from over your shoulder with a cocked brow and a seductive grin.

"Where do you think?" You chuckling teasingly. "Are you clean?"

"Yeah..." he whispered shyly, and you could practically feel the heat of his blush radiating against your skin as he confessed, "I– I showered before coming over..."

"Good." You slid a single finger over the ring of muscle, watching in amusement as it fluttered and clenched in response to the unsubstantial caress. "Tell me if you need me to stop, alright?"

At first he only nodded, but choked out a soft "okay" when you pinched his thigh, urging him to use his words.

Purring out a low praise, you returned to his cock, licking a thick strip from base to tip as your index slowly circled his entrance. Jungkook whined and squirmed, still trying his best to keep up with pleasuring you. It was cute, feeling and hearing him struggle.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered what kind of face he was making beneath your dripping cunt. Were his eyes rolling to the back of his head? Was his tongue hanging out of his mouth? Was his feverish skin glistening with a mixture of his sweat and your arousal? Fuck, you were so curious.

In an attempt to stifle your frustration over not getting to see what kind of fucked out expression he wore, you sunk the tip of your digit into his hole, down to the first knuckle. Jungkook gasped at the unexpected intrusion, his already hard grip on your thighs tightening further. Even with just the tip in, he was clenching hard, and you allowed him a handful of moments to adjust to the sensation. You hummed around his length, swirling your tongue expertly over his sensitive tip to distract from any momentary discomfort he might've been feeling.

It seemed to work well enough, his body gradually relaxing around you as he let out soft, airy moans, delicate whispers of your name fluttering from his lips. "You can—" he whimpered as you licked his slit, "you can put it in deeper."

Heat coiled in your gut, a wicked smirk spreading across your face. "You want it deeper, kookie?" There was a taunting pitch to your words that had the boy curling in on himself, skin hot with embarrassment. When he made no effort to respond, you squeezed your free hand around the thick base of his dick, wrenching a cry from his throat. "If you want it deeper, you have to ask nicely."

"You're so mean, Noona." He whined hoarsely, the muscles in his legs tensing sporadically from the effort it was taking to not fuck himself into your closed fist.

"That didn't sound like a question..."

Jungkook groaned weakly, head tossed back in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. There was a beat, and then you felt the shy press of his lips against your clit accompanied by a light flick of his tongue.

"P– please put it in deeper, Noona..."

"Mmm, good boy," you emphasized the praise by slipping the rest of your finger into his tight heat, spitting once more to ensure substantial lubrications.

"Ngh— oh f– fuck—"

"Does it hurt?"

"No it just..." he swallowed thickly, "feels a little weird."

"This should help with that," you murmured, more so to yourself than him, curling your finger in search of that small bundle of nerves that would make him—

"Ah! Oh fuck!"

A smug grin settled across your lips. Found it.

Jungkook moaned loudly, tossing his head back, hips bucking violently as you rolled your finger against his prostate, sending tendrils of white hot pleasure bursting through his body. That's more like it.

"Feel good?"

"Yes! Yes! Feels– ah! Feels so good, noona," he sobbed brokenly, clutching onto your legs. You thrust your finger into him slowly, making sure to ease him into the feeling of having something inside of him. If you played this right, perhaps he'd let you do more than just finger him. You had toys sitting in your closet that you were just dying to use. Who better on than the cute snack thief next door?

"Think you can take another?" You asked, a bit eager to stretch him out, to see how much he could handle.

He nodded quickly, grinding his hips greedily down onto your finger, wanting it deeper, harder, faster. "Please. Please. I want more."

"Needy little slut." You laughed dryly, nudging your middle finger against the rim of his wet hole. You sure as hell didn't miss the way his pretty cock twitched in response to the degrading words, and a whole new round of excitement festered inside of you.

You were going to have so much fun with him.

It took a bit of careful prodding before you managed to press the length of your second digit inside of him, his tight walls clamping down around the invading appendages.

"Please move." He begged pathetically.

You planted a steadying palm to his hips as they began to buck, holding them down against the cushion. "You're too tight, sweetheart."

"I– I can't help it." He whined, a distressed cry breaking from his heaving chest.

Sympathy swirled in your belly. You could damn near feel the desperation radiating from his body in thick, hot waves. Dipping your head, you pressed a light kiss to the swollen, red head of his shuddering cock.

"Then let me help you relax."

Jungkook sobbed as you took him into your mouth, the warmth of your skilled tongue tracing a slow ring around the underside of his tip sending his head into a tailspin. It wasn't long before you felt the tension in his muscles melting away, quickly snatching the opportunity to start fucking your fingers into him. The pace you set was slow and steady, but you made sure that with every thrust you were brushing against his prostate.

The amount of pleasure rushing through his body at that point was overwhelming, and he'd been reduced to a moaning, crying mess beneath you. Any words he managed to choke out between his sounds of bliss was broken and unintelligible on swollen lips. A small corner of your mind was concerned about your neighbors, wondering if they could hear his wailing through the dangerously thin walls.

"N– Noona— it's so good, oh my god feels so fucking good—"

Fuck. To hell with the neighbors. They should be goddamn grateful.

You sped up the pace of your fingers, burying them down to the knuckle with each thrust. He was writhing now, unable to control his body let alone keep still as he was engulfed in a mind numbing heat. It wrapped itself around his every limb, his every sense overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of his impending release.

"I– I think I'm gonna—" he couldn't even make it through his warning before he was cut off by his own whimpers. Luckily, you didn't need him to finish his sentence to know what he was trying to say. The signs were obvious enough, especially with the way his wall were throbbing around your fingers, the way he was pulsing between your lips, lathering the back of your tongue with an onslaught his salty pre-cum.

You hastened your ministrations, taking him off guard as your plunged down on his cock, stopping only when your lips met the sweat-slick skin of his pelvis. Jungkook cried out a shattered version of your name, unable to stop his hips from jerking up violently at the feeling of your throat constricting around him as you swallowed.

That seemed to be the last push he needed, because within the next second he was writhing and spilling hot cum down your throat, walls clamping down so hard around your fingers you worried they might break.

It was like nothing he'd every experienced before, he could feel it in every single part of his body. From his curled toes to his trembling finger tips, every last inch of him was devastated by the hurricane of erotic bliss. And unlike every other orgasms he'd experienced in the past, the high of it last way longer than just a few seconds. By the time it finally began to fade, he was still shaking.

You pulled your fingers out of him as gently as you could, but he still whimpered at the sensitivity, quivering legs squeezing shut. Maneuvering around so that you were draped over his chest, you whispered soft apologies against his throat and jaw, spilling soothing kisses across the flushed, perspiring skin. Jungkook curled into you, nuzzling his cheek against the top of your head.

For a while you stayed like that, letting him bask in the post-orgasmic bliss as you bathed him in the kind of tender affection that he wasn't used to receiving from you. But, you'd always considered aftercare a vital part of a good sexual experience so, even if it was a bit out of character, you were more than happy to tell him just how good he'd been for you. And he was more than happy to relish in your praise.

"Noona?" He called for your attention suddenly, after his breathing had finally evened out and the deep crimson coating his cheeks had faded into an endearing pink.

"Yes?"

Against your lips, you felt him swallow.

"You didn't cum, did you?"

"I didn't." You admitted after a beat, suddenly reminded of the ache between your legs. You'd managed to be distracted from it, entirely too focused on breaking Jungkook in all the best ways to be concerned with receiving any pleasure. But now, you found yourself very much aware of just how badly you were craving your own release. Subconsciously, you squeezed your legs together.

There was a pause.

"Noona."

"Hm?"

"Sit on my face."

The demand had your hooded eyes flying wide open, mouth freezing mid-kiss.

"... please." He remedied in a bashful whisper.

For a moment, your brain went blank, not fully processing the request. But when it finally did, there were only two words that flooded into your mind and rushed from your lips in a breathless, excited murmur.

Fuck yes.

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freelancearsonist · 2 years

Text

Funeral for a Friend

Blinding Lights

A Poe Dameron x fem!Reader Series

Chapter Fifteen of Twenty-Nine

Rated PG for talk of death and a lot of tension and sadness

809 words

A/N: this is what @aellynera wanted for my two year anniversary and who am i to say no 😂 sorry this is so depressing lmao

“I can’t get this… fucking…”

“Shhhh. Let me do it.”

Poe has been, for lack of a better term, a total jackass today.

First he was mad that you woke him up, and then he was mad when you let him sleep in longer.

You know everyone processes grief differently, but you wish he wouldn’t take it out on you. It’s not like you killed Han.

As you shove his hands out of the way and start undoing the retched knot he’d made of his tie, you wonder if he does somehow inadvertently blame you for what happened at the anniversary party. Your brother was the guest of the man who killed Han, after all—the man who’s getting away with it because there’s no evidence and no witnesses to any misdoings.

Everyone who was there is smarter than that, though. There isn’t a doubt in anyone’s mind that Ben killed his father. You just wish you knew how to prove it.

Poe draws in a deep breath as you smooth your hands over his shoulders—holds it for a minute, then lets it go.

“I’m sorry.”

You raise an eyebrow, feigning ignorance. “For what?”

“I know I’ve been an asshole today.”

You can’t stop the scoff that resonates from your throat at his admission. “That’s one way to put it.”

“Do you have to be like that?” He snaps; his harsh tone backs you flinch away, and his face instantly softens. “I’m sorry.”

As much as you love him, you have some very choice words for how he’s acting. But now isn’t the time to lecture him, so you tell him, “I’m gonna go find Rey and Leia.”

“Wait, please.”

He catches your wrist as you’re reaching for the door, and part of you wants to stay. But you know he won’t be able to cool off with you around as a willing target, so you twist the knob and pull the door open.

“Take some time, Poe. I’ll… I’ll see you at the funeral.”

Poe’s helpless to do anything but watch until the door closes behind you, and he has a strange urge to launch himself at the solid wood just to release some of the pent up frustration.

Instead, he falls back against the bed and covers his face in his hands.

“Shit.”

***

“He’s a smart guy, but he can really be a selfish idiot sometimes,” Rey sighs. “How are you holding up?”

“Better than I thought I would,” you tell her with a shrug.

Truth is, you’re not doing well at all. Han was your mentor. He taught you so much, and now he’s gone. And on top of that, your boyfriend isn’t doing anything to make this easier for you.

Han’s funeral is in an hour, and you’re scared you might completely fall apart there.

“It’ll be alright,” she whispers as she wraps you in a tight hug. “I know it’s hard right now, but we’ll find a way to go on.”

You wish her words could really give you the comfort that they were meant to.

***

It almost feels like you’re trapped in a movie scene. There’s no sound as Han’s coffin is lowered into the ground besides the beating of your own heart.

You want to offer Leia some sort of comfort, but Poe’s already there by her side, arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders.

At least he’s there for someone.

Rose and Finn surround you, all soft smiles and reassuring words. You don’t want to be rude, so you don’t tell them that they aren’t helping.

At the somber reception after the funeral, you’re surprised to see Luke and Rey chatting together. You hadn’t known that they were acquaintances, but they seem very animated in whatever they’re talking about. If only you had the energy to join the conversation.

Poe finds you when it’s time to leave and follows you back to the room you’re sharing without a word.

You want to be angry at him. You want to cry and scream and curse at him, but it’s not his fault. Not really.

Instead, you shrug out of the baggy black dress you’d donned for the occasion and collapse into bed.

Poe isn’t far behind—he’s much better at taking ties off than putting them on. He wraps himself tightly around you and his warmth makes you burst into tears as you bury your face in his chest.

This was all you needed. You just wish he’d realized it sooner.

“Shhh,” he coos as he smooths your hair back and pulls you closer. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you.”

You don’t say anything—not now. You just drift off in his arms and let him make you feel safe.

THE END

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#blinding lights #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #star wars #star wars fanfiction #cece writes

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really-sleep-deprived-nerd · 4 years

Text

Yes yes I KNOW I lost my Soulmate AU rights but hear me out:

Zukka Soulmate’s AU

Just think about the possibilities:

If its one of those au’s where you can immediately tell when someone is your soulmate, imagine them meeting on the south pole, both of them freezing for a second.

Sokka feeling numb, having this horrible realization that he found his soulmate but he is not only an evil fire nation soldier, he is the one sent to destroy the only hope the world has left and also the person leading the attack on his home.

Zuko realizing he is never actually going to be able to just be with his soulmate, realizing that his father would never ever allow it and would probably kill his soulmate if he ever found out who he was, and that no matter what happened or what he did this was only going to end in heartbreak.

And after that second is over, they just:

“I’m sorry” Says Zuko, not being exactly sure about what he is apologizing for, if for attacking his village, for meeting this way or for the inevitable heartbreak.

“You don´t have to do this.”

“I...”Zuko hesitates for a second, before shaking his head with a pained look on his eyes and continuing, “You don't understand, I have to. I just want to go home. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

And then shit goes down mostly as in canon, except that Zuko is trying very hard to like, not ACTUALLY hurt either his soulmate or his soulmate’s sister and everytime they fight eachother they are like:

Zuko, using his swords so he doesn't accidentally burn any of them: So, how have you been?

Sokka, dodging and swinging at Zuko with his club: Not great, Katara and Aang have been INSUFFERABLE with their sappy soulmate shit lately.

Zuko, jumping out of the way: Oh, yeah, that sucks.

Katara, sending Zuko flying with her water: You do know I can hear you, right?

And then he actually turns joins the gaang on Ba Sing Se and Sokka has never been happier.

Or think about one where they don’t realize immediately. Maybe they have matching marks that are in a place where the clothes usually hide them or if you can tell from the mark which nation your soulmate is from then maybe Sokka was told to cover it so other people wouldn't judge him for it and Zuko was forced to hide it or dear old dad would burn that too.

It doesn't matter why, but they don’t realize that they are soulmates until AFTER Zuko finally joins the gaang.

There are different ways we could play with the big reveal, maybe they are on the beach on ember island and when wearing nothing more than their swimming trunks they can finally see that their mark matches or maybe it happened in the Boiling Rock, where Zuko ended up wearing that top without sleeves or maybe after Zuko decides that his dad can Get Fucked he just stops covering his soulmark and Sokka sees it and is about to have a heart attack because What The Fuck Zuko Is My Soulmate.

It really doesn't matter how we do it, but the Reveal Happens and they just talk.

“I’m sorry.” Zuko says, because of course he thinks this is somehow his fault.

“It’s fine, I know you’re good now and you’ve already apologized for-”Sokka starts but Zuko interrupts him.

“No,” Zuko says softly, “I’m sorry that you are stuck with me. You deserve better than a disgraced prince that has made way too many mistakes and probably doesn’t deserve the chance he’s been given to redeem himself.”

And Sokka maybe just wants to cry a little bit because How Is Zuko Real and just hugs him tight and reassures him that it's fine, more than fine really.

But no matter how we do it, one thing stays constant: When Sokka finds out exactly HOW Zuko got his scar he doesn’t freak out or anything, no, no, everything is fine, it’s just that now Aang doesn’t have to worry about killing the Fire Lord because Sokka is going to do it himself-

Sokka, its fine-

It is absolutely NOT fine and I am going to kill your father-

Sokka no-

#ATLA #avatar the last airbender #zukka #zukka soulmates #Zuko #Sokka

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todomochi-uwu · 4 years

Text

Of Unspoken Troubles & Sudden Worries (2/3)

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x reader

Warnings: Angst

Author’s Notes: Finally! The amount of time this took is stupid, but I hope you enjoy it :) Also I´m trying to cope with Jongdae leaving, so please stream “Hello” to understand my pain.

“Hey Crybaby.”

Previous Part: First Next: Second&Half Third

The same eyes who found were now expecting an answer out of you, they were comforting, soothing but also serious and demanding; words simply didn´t come out of your mouth and you avoided looking at him, choosing to focus on the scratches on your hands and knees.

“Know I won’t tell anyone what just happened, I just want to be able to help you.” He said.

Your voice was trapped in your throat; how ridiculous would you sound if you told him your boyfriend was a piece of shit?

“Did anyone hurt? Is someone harassing you?” He tried again.

This time you shook your head.

“Okay, then did you fight with your team?” You stayed silent this team. “I see, maybe we could try talking to your captain? You are from Shiratorizawa, so your captain is Ushijima, right? Let me just…” When he turned around in an attempt to grab his phone you quickly held onto his jacket sleeve, preventing him from going any further.

To this, he gave you a confused look, “Okay now you need to tell me what´s going on.” He was firm, his tone had changed drastically and his tone was lower.

Sigh, “I made something stupid, and now I can’t face them.”

“And what exactly is something “stupid”?” He air-quoted.

You knew you just had to tell him at this point.

…

Kuroo had his head in between his hands, trying to understand what you were trying to say. “Manager not girlfriend, what the fuck does that even mean?” He mumbled.

“So you managed to catch Ushiwaka’s attention, and even though HE was the one to ask you out, he’s being a fucking asshole.” You simply nodded, “Okay, it’s good to know he’s bad at something, to be honest.”

“Wakatoshi is not the monster everyone makes him look, he’s just weird.”

Kuroo giggled, “Well let me tell you he does have the kind of face that says ‘I’m going to punch if you so much look my way’ You know?” To this you giggled, “Would you like at that? Crybaby can actually smile.”

“Stop it, I’m not in the mood.”

“I know, just trying to cheer you up.” He sighed, before looking at you straight in the eyes, “Do you want my advice or were you just looking for someone to bent?”

“Apparently my rational thinking is not good, because I just keep going to back to him.”

“Because you are not being rational, you are just thinking about how much you love him and how much you wish for him to change, even though he´s not going to.” He was direct, no tenderness, making you flinch “Thinking rational would be to tell you to dump him, he’s not worth it. You are here trying to make it work while he´s just establishing rules as if it was a business contract.” Small tears threaten to come out of your eyes, another knot forming at the bottom of your stomach, “But… I completely understand what you are going through, so you are not letting him go that easily. So I’m going to do something that worked for me in the past, okay?”

You nodded.

“Have you tried talking to him?” Yes. “Did things change in some way?” No. “Okay. Has it been getting worse?” Yes. “Do you sometimes question his love?” Yes. “Are you genuinely happy?” No. “Is this what you thought it would be?” No.

Kuroo sighed, before taking your face in between his hands “Is he’s not loving you the way he should; if he’s not cherishing you; if he’s not trying his best for you; if he´s not fulfilling the compromise he made to you. Then it’s not there. There´s no other way to put it.”

A loud sob escaped your lips, things you already knew were now coming out of someone else’s mouth, making it seem real, making it hurt even worse.

“However, I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt and say his intention is not that, he’s not trying to hurt you, he’s just… an idiot.” He looked away, “But everything and everyone has their limit, including you, no matter how much you love him.”

There was nothing much you could say, he was right, you love Ushijima, but it was becoming too much.

“So tonight we are going to go sleep because my god am I tired from trying to block his fucking spikes, I know you say he´s not a monster, but he sure does spike-like one.” You giggled, “Tomorrow you will fulfil your duties as a manager, but nothing else. You will take notes, refill water bottles and give out towels, what you normally do as a manager. No cheering him, no lovey-dovey looks, no midnight escapades, no girlfriend stuff. If he wants you to act like a manager you will, but he will also experiment what losing someone who loves you feels like.”

“Why are you doing this?” You questioned, you knew he didn´t have any malice intentions, but still, you were the crazy person who appeared crying in front of the gym at one a.m.

“Because I know exactly what it feels like to give out love and receive absolutely nothing, and I’m not letting you continue this destructive cycle; it’s what I wish someone had done for me.”

You didn´t ask any further questions, believing every word he said. You turned around to leave, needing to catch some sleep.

“Hey, Crybaby. You forgot something.”

…

It was now morning, your eyes felt heavy and were swollen, fingers bleeding from all the biting and your body kept trembling from the anxiety, but you had to reaffirm yourself, put yourself first.

And so, you made your way into the kitchen, getting ready to prepare breakfast along with the others managers, who could only give you a sympathy smile and a pat in the back, clearly having heard you cry.

Before you even noticed, the teams were already making their way into the cafeteria, the noise filling the entire building. You started serving plates, placing them in the table for the boys to come and collect them.

“Hey, manager-chan.” A familiar voice said. Tendou.

“Hey, Sato. Did you get a good sleep? You need to be prepared to be able to block some of those quick attacks from Karasuno” You smiled, taking him by surprise.

“Yeah… Um, I didn´t know you got along with Nekoma?” His eyes were looking straight into the piece of clothing in which you were currently drowning in.

“Oh yeah, their captain was nice and gave it to me, he said I looked cold.” Shit, you completely forgot about that. Well, fake it ‘till you make it.

“Okay…” He said while returning to his table, Ushijima was already sitting there looking over the notes from yesterday’s practice. “Hey, Wakatoshi-kun?”

“Yes, Tendou?”

“Have we ever had any other training camp with Nekoma?”

“Not that I remember.”

“Huh.” Tendou was confused but decided to keep his thoughts to himself. There was no need to worry just for a silly thing, right?

It wasn´t until he turned around to have another look at you did he notice your eyes were positioned on another table, another team, Nekoma. Then Tendou noticed their captain looking directly at you, intensely and without even blinking, before he gave you his signature smirk and a quick wink, then sitting down next to his libero.

Tendou´s eyes once again returned to you, and this time it shook him, the peachy pink in your cheeks and the shy look in your eyes incriminating you.

…

Tendou didn´t like it one bit, not when you and Ushijima had something, but after last night´s events, he didn’t know what to think, were you two still together, or was that the final straw?

He saw it during breakfast, he saw during their practice match, he saw it during breaks, Kuroo and you, looking at each other, laughing, talking, a relationship he had never seen before.

When in the fuck had you met Kuroo Tetsurou? And what in the fuck had happened for you to look at him that way?

…

“Wakatoshi-kun” He whispered, careful of not raising anyone´s attention.

He hummed in response.

“Are you and Y/N still together?”

“Tendou, I already told you…”

“No, Ushijima. This time I´m serious, are you and her still together?

Ushijima´s eyebrows were furrowed, there was no point in denying it any more, he guessed. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because for one, she´s wearing Nekoma’s jacket, two she hasn´t even bother looking your way, which I don´t blame her after what you did last night, and third the looks Kuroo has been giving her aren´t exactly friendly.”

“What do you mean?”

Goddammit are you fucking blunt, Ushijima, “I mean, she disappears for the entire night, no one in the team knows where she is, and all of a sudden she is friends with Kuroo?”

“I don´t get your point.”

“What I mean…” He raised his voice, clearly exasperated, he tries again calming himself. “What I mean is, this morning she was wearing his jacket, she has spent all of her breaks with him and she hasn´t even come to greet you.” He hoped this would wake up something in Ushijima, but he simply stared at him, clearly not connecting the dots.

Well, fuck.

This time, Tendou pointed your way, Ushijima was confused, what was so bad? And then, everything made sense.

Kuroo had taken your phone away, keeping it at a height impossible for you to reach, you were jumping trying to get it back, it wasn´t long before his arm was around your waist hugging you while laughing, you pouting.

And to this Ushijima couldn´t help but wonder.

What was this strange feeling? And why did he all of a sudden had the urge to punch Kuroo Tetsurou?

Tags: @samanthaa-leanne @missalienqueen @anime-weeb-bnha @minnieminnie00-got7 @ama-suhen @iiwah @saeranoppa @4ambagelbites @sunaswife @puma-d-a @lionhearteddame @ix-elastix @dudejuststop @pruemania @salty4tsukki @wonderblogger @animexholic @kenmascateyes @aralynxo @decaffeinatedcheesecakemiracle @tsibba01 @softkookyy @nnessworls @xxitsaeonxx @hallothankmas @sinex @shinhiromi @killuaking @icedberrytea @foreverdebbie @nati-08 @amoursa @lilolpotatobig @bigtitmisfit @itzgabz22 @holographicwriter @aonenthusiast @flmshneverbreaks

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httpdabi · 3 years

Text

His property

Word count: 6.0k

Genre: SMUT, maybe angst, romantic ? Lots of Dabi lol not sure if it’s yandere... yeah

Warnings: 18+, kidnapping I guess, fire play. Not sure how old Melissa actually is, so if she’s underage in anime, here she’s at least 21 y/I and allowed to drink

Qurikless OC being "saved" from not so hero person. :)

Being quirkless didn’t bother me that much. Sure, i was jealous when my friends started developing their own quirks, showing of. When they used to make a little show, competition which quirk is better, all I could do is sit in the side and adore them.

My parent were telling me almost every day to try to stay out of trouble. If there is a hero fighting a villain, I should just walk away. Because even their power can harm me. I learnt that I can just be at the wrong place In the wrong time and I could be in trouble. They always taught me to be extra careful.

When I was a kid, I used to depend on my parents too much. Today it was kinda different, I was giving my best to be independent as much as I can. Working at a small coffee shop, living in my small apartment. Trying to live as quiet as possible.

,,One caramel macchiato and one chocolate cappuchino” my co-worker said loudly for me to hear. Even tho it could be stressing, I loved my job. I loved making different drinks and talk with people.

I made a little ok sign and started making the ordered drinks.

The shift was passing real fast since there was a lot of work, there wasn’t even time for break. Of course, I could catch a minute and smoke one real fast. Being honest, I was fine with that.

After long ass night I changed into my dress and finally went home. Home wasn’t far from my working place, so if the weather is nice, I would take a walk instead of going home with bus.

,, Great” I hissed after trying to lit my cigarette. Perfect timing for my lighter to die. Little piece of shit gave up on me after such a hard time at work.

I sat down on the end of the bench, trying to find another one while the cigarette was still between my lips. There was nothing worse then forgetting your lighter or when it stops working.

,, Need a little help?” a man asked. I knew that few of them were sitting on the bench, but I didn’t pay attention that much. Before I could turn my head around to face him and take his lighter, his hand was in front of me, and he was lightning my cigarette up with his finger. Small blue fire coming from his finger, looking hella familiar. The purple skin with silver patches didn’t make a klick in my head either.

,,Thanks” I said fast, curious who it is, since my brain was telling me that I know this person. But once I looked at him, his head was already turned to another direction. Not wanting to bothering him or his friends, I just left believing it was someone I saw on my work. After all, we have a lot of costumers.

Time after work was my favorite, especially if I didn’t have to wake up early next day. A glass of wine, face mask, and phone in my hand. I couldn’t force myself to spend rest of the night locked up watching TV, so I enjoyed the beautiful weather on my balcony. I could see the little group of friends from my balcony. So I was lowkey stalking them a little, sad I couldn’t hear shit they were talking about. My little stalking was interrupted by a small vibration coming from my phone.

Of course it was Melissa. My one and only friend, quirkless bitch just like me. Usually I am not a person to use apps for meeting new people, but when I saw that there is an app for us quirkless sad motherfuckers, I had to instal it. And that’s how I met my soulmate Melissa.

Melissa: ,, What are you doing? I am on my way to your place´´

To Melissa: Chilling on the balcony and sipping on my wine. I´ll be on my way to buy us another bottle and strawberries.

I couldn’t even place my phone on the table and another message was already there.

Melissa: AMAZING!!! Can´t wait to get wasted with you. See ya in a bit loveeee u

Since The shop is near café and my home, there was no need for me to change. I was already in my pajama shorts and shirt, so all I did was wear my baggy hoodie over it. Taking my wallet, I sprinted fast to the shop.

The very next day, I had to work with a worst hangover ever. Melissa left my place around 10AM, groaning in frustration she had to wake up so early. But at least she didn’t have to work.

My shift began at 13PM, so I had some time to rest and let the painkillers work their wonder on me. Sadly the time before my shift started passed faster then I could imagine, and once again I found myself at my work.

From 13 to 16PM there isn´t much work. There are some people passing by after the end of their shifts, our usual costumers coming at the same time. But the exactly at 17PM is where the hell starts.

That was the very reason I liked morning shifts more, even tho I had to wake up so early. It was still less work then in late shift.

More and more orders were coming. Usually I would somehow manage to keep my shit together somehow, but this time I was real mad my boss didn’t get more workers. It could be much easier if there was 3 of us in the shift, instead of two of us.

Like we didn’t have enough stress already, there was a huge explosion near the café. Not paying much attention to it I continued making the drinks.

,, Get down!´´ my co-worker screamed and pulled me under the desk with her. I tried to peek and see what´s happening but in the very moment I did it there was another explosion, blowing me almost away.

In that moment I didn’t know if the explosion was beside our café again, or in it. But I could hear people screaming.

My co-worker started crying, telling me how my face is all bloody. Which was pretty weird, since I felt good. She was pulling me to the back side of the café telling me to use the back door and wait for her.

I did as she told me, seeing the mix of the red and blue flames freaked me out. It was the first time in my life to end up in situation like this, so a wave of panic took over me. Sobbing loudly, I sat down, hugging my knees. I was waiting for my co-worker, too scared to try and get help on my own, since I could still hear screams and people fighting.

Another explosion, probably in the café, since once again I was blown away. I could hear Ryuku and Kamui Woods asking if someone is here. But I couldn’t say a word, as much as I wanted to. I wanted to scream, but even a whisper was heavy at that moment.

Their voices were like echo, and the buildings around me started to get blurry.

I could feel my forehead being touched. My hair being placed behind my ear and someone telling me to wake up. Once I opened my eyes, I saw arm resting beside my head on the street. The same purple skin I saw last night.

I forced myself to look up, and the moment I saw that face, I felt embarrassed I didn’t recognize it before. Of course it was Leauge´s villain Dabi. Maybe the fact that I was trying to ignore the news around as much as possible, thinking if I stay in my safe zone I´ll protect myself. But of course I knew the League of Villains. Of course I knew Himiko Toga, Kurogiri, Shigaraki, Dabi and the rest of them. As much as I wanted to ignore everything happening in the city, I simply knew about them. Everyone does.

,, No´´ I whispered, not being able to feel pain or fear. My eyes looking beside him hoping hero or my co-worker will come and save me.

Dabi lowered himself trying to get my focus on him.

,, They are all gone. ´´ He said looking me directly in the eyes. Whit those words all the hope I had died. I closed my eyes while tears started to roll down my cheeks. This was it, I thought. Either way I´ll die from bleeding out or he´ll kill me.

,, Don´t worry babe, I won´t hurt you´´ He whispered, still playing with my hair. I had no power to say anything, all I could do is wait to fall into unconsciousness again.

His hands tried to pull me up, but somehow in that very moment everything started to feel heavy and I felt like I was about to vomit.

,,Fine, if you want to die, then die´´ He said, and once again everything else was black.

I woke up with sudden urge to vomit again. Being in dark unfamiliar room didn´t help either. The only thing that helped was the fact that I was alive. Before I could stand up and find bathroom, I vomited all over the floor. Maybe it´s weird, but I started crying, not only because I had no idea where I was, but also because I vomited. It´s a nightmare for me.

The door suddenly opened and at my surprise Dabi got inside. Which followed with me vomiting once more and crying again. Didn´t he let me die ?

,,Goddammit, I even prepared a bucket for you, can´t you use it ?´´ He said calmly. Grabbing my arm harshly, he pulled me up and forced me to walk out of the room.

,, I´m sorry´´ I sobbed, not wanting to make any problems. I didn´t want to do anything to provoke the villain.

,, Wait here´´ he said, forcing me to sit in the kitchen. Then he went back in the room I slept in.

The kitchen wasn’t big, but it wasn´t small either. There was a counter with drinks, and two tall uncomfortable chairs. On the other side were cabinets, sink, dishwasher, stove and freezer. Everything was in light and dark shade of gray.

,, Well, you can vomit like world champion´´ Dabi´s voice echoed thru the room. I could hear the toilet flush and his steps coming closer. It took him a second and there he was, standing in front of me. He went to the other side of the counter, took one glass and filled it with cold water.

,, So babe, what happened back there?´´ he asked, placing the glass in front of me. I was scared and confused, and I didn’t have any courage to look the man in the eyes or say anything.

,, I don´t know´´ I said quietly. He sighed and took a small box of cigarettes out of his pocket. Lighting his cigarette up with his quirk, just like he did yesterday.

,, You are lucky I noticed you trying to hide back there, since your little friend left without thinking twice´´ he said, as he puffed on his cigarette.

I wasn´t sure if I should feel sad, betrayed or mad. From all of the people back there, a villain saved my life. But I did feel thankful to him.

,,Thank you´´ I said, looking at him. His cigarette between his lips, eyes half closed.

,, What should I do with you´´ he said, finishing the cigarette and taking another one from the box. He placed the box in front of me.

When he realized that I won´t take one, he stood up and made his way toward me. Standing behind me, he placed his hands on my shoulders, slowly massaging them. His one hand pulled my hair back lightly, and other one placed his already lit cigarette in front of my lips.

,, Come on love, I know you smoke´´ he said, placing the cigarette between my lips with a little force. In a moment, his face was inches away from mine. I could feel his breath on my neck, making me freeze in the place.

,, Maybe I should keep you for myself here´´ he whispered, breathing deeply on my ear. ,,After all, I can protect your quirkless little body´´ he addes slowly.

There were many things going thru my mind at that moment. What did he mean ? How did he know I don´t have a quirk?

Days and weeks passed and there I was still at Dabi´s place. First few days I was left alone, either way he was really busy or just wanted to give me some time. Dabi let me sleep in his room, since I couldn´t force myself to sleep in the one I vomited. Maybe it was my imagination, but I could still smell the vomit.

His room was decorated in dark shades. One black king sized bed in the middle, dark green walls and black furniture. On the right side were huge windows and balcony. Since I was alone, I gave myself a little bit of freedom. After all, he didn´t seem that dangerous as everyone said.

At the beginning he didn´t let me cook or do anything that could be dangerous in his opinion. He didn´t trust me at all, being sceptic that I might poison him. He did try to keep me entertained, giving me Nintendo Switch with some games like Pokemon, Super Mario, etc. He also didn´t have any problem with Netflix or whatever I wanted. I know those are small things, but being with him, I expected less.

After some weeks passed, I was seeing him more often. He would casually get inside his room, since there was the balcony. Without knocking or any sign. Well, it was his room after all. Sometimes he would just bring us some fast food, ice cream and force me to eat with him. At least he thought so. I didn´t have any problem with it.

After 3 weeks passed, I started to realize that I was pretty much attracted to this man. I wasn´t someone who falls easily for a man, but his attitude, his cold personality, the way he moves, the way he talks, the way I could catch him look at me, it was all extremely attractive to me. It probably all started the day I caught him sitting beside me, thinking I was asleep. It was around 3AM when I heard him coming inside his room. He sat beside me, and started caressing my cheek softly.

In that moment all I could do was just pretend that I was still asleep.

After that night, he would come at night and just sit there with me, thinking I was asleep.

I opened the window and sat on the balcony, admiring the sight of the buildings and colorful lights coming form the streets, and cars.

,, I don´t remember allowing you to go outside.´´

He was standing to my left side, looking at the street.

,, Planning how to run away?´´ He added, not paying attention to me. He was wearing black pants, with dark grey oversized sweater. His presence was too much for me, it wasn’t that I was scared of him, but I was too shy, I couldn´t look him in the eye without thinking about him sitting next to my ´´sleeping´´ form and looking at me, playing with my hair.

,, You know what will happen if you even try´´ he said getting closer to me. I could feel his hands on my hips, holding them firmly. I could smell his strong cologne mixed with smoke. He told me if I even think about running away, he would burn me down even my ashes will disappear. Somehow he knew who my parents are, who my friends are and he said he would kill every single one of them.

At first I didn’t believe him, somehow I thought he isn´t capable of something like that. But I changed my mind once I saw him on the news, where it was talk about his victims.

His thumb was going in circles, making a small pressure on my hip. I didn´t think of running away. First of all I wasn´t brave enough, second of all, I was so unimportant to this world that I didn´t hear shit about me on the news.

,, Can I have my phone ?´´ I asked him, not thinking about his reaction or anything. I just wanted to contact my parents and Melissa.

,,Wha..?´´ he laughed out. His hold getting stronger, keeping me in my place.

,, Babe, do you think I´m that stupid ?´´ he laughed, turning me around to face him. If I wasn´t in a situation like this, I would probably feel the urge to touch his scars, being so close to me.

,, I just want to contact my family and my friend. I won´t do anything that might harm you´´ I said, not breaking the eye contact.

,, Harm me ? ´´ he laughed, his face inches from mine. This man was indeed driving me crazy.

,, Please, you can control me if you want. I won´t delete any message, I´ll do whatever´´ I managed to say somehow. His lips being so close, it was a wonder I could speak at all.

The moment his lips brushed against mine, I felt all possible feeling I could in my stomach. ,, You´ll do whatever?´´ he said, his head still tilled to the side, and lips brushing over mine. I could feel a small smirk forming on his lips.

,,I´ll think about it´´

After that day, he didn´t hold himself at all. Doesn´t matter what I was doing, if he felt like being close to me, he would just do it. If I was cleaning, making myself a snack, playing some games, he would just casually slip his hands around my waist.

Laying down on the couch, legs up on the wall, while playing Super Mario. There was one level I couldn´t pass as hard as I tried to. It was just too troublesome. Dabi was sitting in the kitchen, smoking and watching the gameplay. I could hear him mumbling something to himself, before he made his way and sat beside me, taking the controllers out of my hand.

I was surprised when he started passing the level without any trouble, defeating Iggy Koopa so easily.

,, YAAASSS´´ I screamed grabbing the sleeve of his hoodie and shaking it happily. I was dealing with that level probably two days in a row.

In the moment when I was about to ask him how did he do it so easily, he threw the controllers to the side, grabbing my right leg with his left hand, and my hip with his right hand. Pulling my body to his direction. I couldn´t even understand what was exactly happening in that moment, since it happened so fast. He placed my legs around him, and hovered over me.

,, Don´t I need a little present for this win?´´ he said looking at me, placing small kisses over my face. This time, I couldn´t suppress the need to touch his scars. The curiosity took over me, and suddenly I found myself, placing my index finger beside his lip. Moving my finger lightly to the left side of his face. The moment I did that he froze in the place, not kissing me, or doing anything. His body twitched once my finger was under his eye, touching the scars and the small patches.

He grabbed my jaw, and kissed me forcefully, forcing his tongue inside, not giving me a chance to breath. His other hand was under focused on pulling my shirt up, just enough for my bra to be visible.

,, You are driving me crazy´´ he said, his lips now on my neck, one hand still on my jaw and other grabbing my left breast making me moan suddenly. I could feel him smirk while leaving wet love marks over my neck.

Having Dabi around was something I hoped for now. I was hoping for those unexpected touches and waiting for him to come at night like he always did.

What surprised me was the fact that he actually gave me my phone. Telling me that he will control my messages and that if he notices I´m deleting them, things won´t be smooth as they are now.

Somehow, I didn´t even feel the urge to write something bad, to ask for help or anything ? I found myself wanting to be in his presence, I wanted him to be close to me.

He already contacted my parents and Melissa before, telling them that I´m alright. He ignored the rest of the messages they sent me. They wanted to see me, they were worried. Melissa thought she did something wrong, since I was ignoring her.

The moment I contacted her, my phone started buzzing with all the messages she started sending me. Where am I? Why did I ignore her ? What happened ? Am I ok ? What happened to my work?

To my parents I simply wrote that I’m fine and safe.

At my surprise, they told me they know where I am, and that we can work it out. They told me that he waited for them home one night. Telling them he felt they need to know where you are, and telling them if they try contacting a hero or police what will happen to me.

I told them that there is no need for me to go anywhere and that I feel safer then I ever was.

After I found out that my parents know, I felt the need to tell everything to Melissa too. She was my best friend after all and I knew she would understand me.

I explained everything what happened that night. Explained how he saved me, how he’s taking care of me and trying to give me everything I need. At first she was really surprised once I mentioned his name. I mean, who wouldn’t be surprised ? But if I’m happy, then she’s happy too. She never judged me even once.

Dabi wasn’t home, so out of boredom I decided to make some food. Maybe he’ll eat it too once he comes home. I decided to make Spaghetti with Quattro formaggi sauce. I noticed that he really likes cheese, so maybe he will give it a try.

After having dinner on my own, I decided to watch some movie on Netfix before I go to bed and once again wait for him. The movie wasn’t anything special, but I still forced myself to finish it. My mind was away all the time, not being focused on the movie at all. All I could think of was Dabi. If someone told me that I would be so desperate for LOV’s villain Dabi, I wouldn’t believe them. But there I was, waiting for him like a lost puppy.

Placing my phone on the Kitchen counter, I made my way to his bedroom. For some reason he was still sleeping in the other room. Making me wonder how does it feel to sleep next to him, and why he let me sleep in his room for such a long time.

I slowly lain down on the right side of the bed, focusing on the lights coming from the outside. Covering my lower part with the blanket. The soft lace pajama that was hugging my body, gave me some comfort in some weird way. I lain on my stomach and placed my left arm under my pillow. Closing my eyes, I inhaled a deep breath trying to keep myself awake.

It was around 2AM when I heard the door slowly open. I could hear his steps, I could hear how he’s in the kitchen, taking my phone, and shortly after placing it back again. I could hear the shower and his soft humming.

Not shortly after that, I could hear him coming. Slowly opening the door and making his way toward me. Sitting to my left side, he took a deep breath, placed his long lags next to mine, and slowly caressing my head. His fingers slowly found their way to my neck, moving left and right.

,,I know you’re awake’’ he said, as his finger slowly brushed the lace on my right shoulder down. In one moment, he was pacing a kiss on my shoulder, and in the next one he was hovering over me. I could feel him on my back. His face inches from mine. When our eyes met, I wasn’t sure if I felt embarrassed or glad.

He took a deep breath once more, and started placing kisses down my back, while his fingers were on my hips. With every kiss, I was going more and more insane.

Dabi got off me, and pulled me to lie to the side, once again facing my back.

,, Such a good girl for me’’ he said pushing my pajama slowly up, and touching my right breast slowly, while biting my neck. All I could do was move my head in the right direction, giving him more access to my neck.

,, Move your legs a bit for me babe’’ he said, placing his hand under my shorts. He didn’t give me a chance to do it on my own tho, forcefully moving my tights and slipping his hand under my panties. My head fall back onto his chest, moan slipping out of my mouth once I felt his touch.

,, Are you my good girl?’’ he asked, stopping his fingers form any movement. Feeling his hot breath on my neck, I forgot how to speak properly.

,, Y-yes’’ I managed to say somehow. Every kiss, breath, word, move from him, made me crazy wanting for more. I could lie to myself and say it’s only because it’s such a long time since I went in bed with someone. But I there’s no need for lies, I’m attracted to this man.

His fingers started moving in circles, massaging my clit just as I wanted. Placing his knee between my legs, giving himself more space for movements. I closed my eyes and moaned, once his finger enter me. Without any word his fingers started to move in and out, so slowly that it was painful. Loving every second of it.

Once again, he pulled me over, making me lie on my back, placing himself between my legs, pinning my hands over my head. No words could describe how I felt in that moment. This time I moved my head foreword and kissed him. I wanted more. He returned the kiss, and started grinding his lower part of body against me, making me feel his erection.

Whit every move he made, I wanted more and more.

When he let go of my hands, I immediately started touching his body, I wanted to feel his skin, his scars. The moan escaped his lips once I started kissing his neck. Not wasting any time, he pulled his whit shirt over his head and threw it across the room, giving me access to his well build chest. Without thinking twice, I started kissing his chest, the purple scars he had. His head was hanging low, breathing deeply.

His hand found it’s way to my throat, grabbing it harshly and pulling me up a little. ,, Time to undress you love’’ he said, his hand like a neckless around my throat.

Moving my ass up a bit, Dabi pulled my shorts and panties down, throwing them on the floor. When I was about to take my top off, he pushed me down smirking a little. Slowly playing with the lace on my right shoulder, he did something I didn’t expect. The blue flame appeared on his fingers, destroying the lace. First the right one, then the left one. His lit index finger went down over the material of my top, from my chest to my stomach, flaming it up just enough to destroy the material.

Once it was destroyed, Dabi pulled the rest of my top that was under me and also threw it across the room. Taking a good look of my naked body, he slowly went down, placing soft kisses over my stomach. The fact that I could feel his burnt skin too was taking me over the edge.

,,What if’’ he breathed out, still leaving wet kisses over my stomach and chest. ,, What if everyone knows to who you belong’’ he said, eyes looking up on me, trailing his finger around my stomach. His left hand holding my hip, making sure no movements were possible.

,,What do you mean?’’ I asked confused, not able to understand anything clearly anymore. There was no need for me to even think about it, because Dabi already made his decision to mark me as his. A loud scream escaped my mouth the moment I felt my skin getting burned.

His hand was still holding me firmly, but he immediately stopped what he was doing, and placed his hand over my mouth.

,,Relax, it will be over just in a minute’’ he said, kissing me deeply. He took the destroyed top and placed it between my lips. Making sure I was biting the destroyed piece of cloth, he slowly went down to finish what he started.

Making sure I won’t interrupt his work, he held my hands together firmly, while holding my legs with his weight down. Every move of his finger, burning my skin, was sending a wave of pain through my body. Closing my eyes, tears rolled down my cheek. Back aching up, screaming into the cloth in my mouth, nothing of it helped me calm down. But he was correct, it took him around minute to finish. Pulling the cloth out of my mouth, he kissed me.

,, Such a good girl’’ he said in between the kisses. Pulling my head up, I saw his name on my stomach. ,,Now everyone knows who you belong to’’ he added, leaving wet love bites all over my neck. From all the pain I felt when he was burning my skin down, everything after that felt like aftercare.

Dabi stood up, taking off his shorts and boxers before he climbed on top of me again. He kissed me once mere before he started rubbing his hard dick over my clit. He knew that I wanted more, but the he liked the fact that I was so desperate for him.

,, Dabi please’’ I moaned out, wanting him inside me already. Without any word or sign, he entered me roughly, not giving me any time do adjust to his size.

,,Of course I’ll give my good girl what she needs. You are too good tonight’’ He said kissing my nose, while my hands were grabbing the covers of his sheets to find my comfort in them.

He didn’t move for some minutes, leaving wet love marks over my chest. But once he was done, he slowly pulled his dick out so only his tip was inside of me. Then again, slammed it back inside. The harsh move, made me place my hands over his back, finding comfort there instead of the cold sheets.

He moved few times with the same method. Every time he would slam his dick back inside I wanted to dig my fingers inside his skin. But I was too afraid I would hurt his already burnt skin. I didn’t want to hurt him.

After he slammed too hard inside me, I accidentally dug my nails into his skin. It was probably not to hard, but still I caressed the place I thought I hurt and apologized to him.

,,You don’t have to worry about it love’’ he said stopping his movements. ,, My skin is already bruised, few new scars won’t hurt me’’ he added, giving me the permission to do what I want. Whit those words his movements started to speed up, making me throw my head back into the pillow and wrap my legs around him.

Dabi bit my shoulder, groaning into it, while he was getting faster and deeper with every move he made. Even tho I was still worried about his skin, I couldn’t help it, my nails were scratching it and digging into it enough to keep up with his moves.

,,I’m close’’ I moaned, while every thrust was bringing me closer to my orgasm. I didn’t have to repeat myself or wait, his hand found it’s way to my clit, rubbing it fast into circles. Which was enough for me to cum all over his dick while moaning his name out.

Without any word, Dabi turned me around on my stomach and entered me form behind once again. Holding my hips strongly while thrusting deep in and out of me. Being sensitive form my orgasm, with every thrust he did, my moans were louder.

,, Ass up’’ he said suddenly stopping his moves. Once I did what he told me, he grabbed my head and pushed it deep into the soft pillow and started to fuck me like there was no tomorrow. The sound of his skin slapping my own, the image of what was happening almost drove me close to my second orgasm.

My moans were huffed by the pillow, while Dabi was fucking me into the mattress.

,, Yess babe, cum for me again’’ He groaned into my ear, fucking me even harder.

,,So close’’ he moaned, touching my clit again and moving even faster and deeper if it was even possible. He didn’t have to touch me much, another orgasm was already hitting me hard.

,, Yess baby, so good’’ he moaned, while his dick started twitching inside of me. I felt his hot cum inside, closing my eyes, trying to catch my breath. Dabi didn’t stop, he tried to fuck his seed deep into me, until he thought it was enough.

Falling beside me, his arm over my back, breathing deeply into my neck. I wanted this moment to last forever.

His fingers trailing up and down my back slowly, while smoking a cigarette. The cold air coming form the opened balcony was a contrast to his hot fingers going up and down.

Once I noticed the cum that started to leak out, I stood up covering my body with the blanket, making my way to the bathroom to clean myself and wear another pajama.

When I finished, and changed. I found Dabi standing in the kitchen, already in his white shirt and his shorts for sleeping. Half of his cigarette was finished.

,, You coming back?’’ I asked.

,, Don’t you want to sleep alone ?’’ he asked turning taking one last smoke before placing the end of the cigarette under the water and throwing it away. I shook my head slowly, and made my way toward his room, hoping it’s enough for him to come back.

Once I buried my head into his pillow, I waited for him to follow me. But the steps were going to another direction, making me sigh deeply.

Shortly after that, at my surprise, Dabi appeared again. Holding some lotion in his hands. He sat beside me pulling the sheet down and my pajama dress up. Small smirk appearing over his lips at the sight of his name on my stomach.

Banding down, he kissed it few times before he applied the cold lotion all over it. Laying down beside me, he placed his arms around me and pulled me closer to him and hiding his face into my neck breathing my scent in.

With his presence and arms around me, it was the first night I could fall asleep peacefully not feeling scared of anything in this world.

Hope you liked it, too lazy to correct all the mistakes.

Also credit to the owner of the photo :)

Much loveeee

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petrichoravellichor · 2 years

Text

Ruby’s standing in the doorway of Anna’s room, giving Anna her judgiest of judgmental looks. “You call that a Christmas sweater?”

“What?” Anna frowns. She looks down at her emerald green turtleneck, smoothing a wrinkle at the waist. “It’s green. Last I checked, that was a Christmas color.”

Ruby huffs. “I mean, yeah, I guess.” She leans against Anna’s door frame, crossing her arms. “I just feel like you’re really not getting the whole point of this, roomie: it’s supposed to be an ugly Christmas sweater, but, like, in an epic and hilarious kind of way.” She gestures without looking at her own bright red sweater, which features a pimp-looking Santa proclaiming that he has ‘Hos in different area codes’. “Case in point.”

Anna’s face grows hot. “Well, I don’t have anything like that,” she says, feeling, as she often does around Ruby, naïve and embarrassed.

It’s times like these, where the differences in their upbringings are most apparent, that Anna can’t help but ask God why he decided to give her Ruby as a roommate. Whereas Anna’s family is conservative and devoutly religious, Ruby’s moms are atheist lesbians. To say that she and Anna didn’t have many childhood experiences in common is putting it mildly, and if you wanted to compare their coming out stories…well, there’s a reason Anna hasn’t gone home for the holidays. She suspects it’s the only reason Ruby invited her to her own family’s get-together in the first place: she felt sorry for her poor little bisexual roommate, who would otherwise be alone on Christmas Eve.

Which, given how crappy Anna is feeling right about now, actually doesn’t sound like a bad idea. She can change into her fluffiest pajamas and drown her sorrows in cheesy Hallmark movies and whatever’s left of the cookie dough ice cream. Don we now our gay apparel…

“Hey,” says Ruby suddenly. “You okay?”

The question snaps Anna out of her thoughts, and it’s only when she notices the concerned wrinkle of Ruby’s brow that she realizes she’s started crying; she reaches up and quickly wipes the tears away. “Yeah, fine. Listen, I really appreciate that your family was willing to have me, but I think I should just stay here instead. I don’t want…I’m sure you’ll have a better time if I’m not there.”

“Well, I’m not,” says Ruby, as though Anna’s suggestion had personally offended her. “You ever think that maybe I want you there? Jesus fucking Christ, Anna, are you really gonna make me say it?”

“Say what?” Anna asks, not knowing what on earth Ruby’s going on about, because why would she actually want Anna to go with her, she must realize that Anna would essentially be sticking shyly to her side all night and that they’d be spending time together for hours and that she’d have to introduce Anna to everyone in her family and…and…oh.

“Ruby...” Anna swallows; she doesn't think she’ll be able to find the words, but suddenly, there they are, tucked somewhere in the exasperated-yet-fond grin Ruby’s giving her. “Do you…am I your date?”

Ruby laughs, raising her hands in exultation. “Aaaand she gets it! Hallelujah, holy shit.” Her arms drop, but the grin remains. “Yes, you adorable fucking nerd, I want you to be my date. Do you have any idea how long my moms have been asking when we’re gonna get together? God, I thought it was obvious.”

And maybe it would have been, if it was something Anna had ever actually let herself hope for. The idea of Ruby, fearless, beautiful Ruby who could have anyone she wanted, wanting her…it’s enough to make Anna’s head swim. Even looking at Ruby now feels a little like trying not to drown. “I…I don’t know what to say.”

For the first time, Ruby glances away; when she looks back, her expression is strangely vulnerable. “I mean.” She licks her lips, taking a step forward into Anna’s personal space. “I personally would love a ‘hell yeah’, but don’t let me put words in your mouth.” A smirk. “Especially not ones you might have to wash out with soap because you never fucking swear.”

Anna laughs. “Well, I 'swear' I didn’t know how you felt, but…” She hesitates, then reaches down to take Ruby’s hands, because apparently, that’s something she can do, could have done for a while now. “But I’m glad.” Her eyes meet Ruby’s, and now she feels like crying in a good way. “I’m really, really glad.”

“Cool.” Ruby’s smirk broadens, and she squeezes Anna’s hands. “So, like, can I kiss you now? Because I’ve been wanting to for a really long fucking time. And then we can go in my room and pick out a sweater for you to borrow and go make my moms’ entire fucking year by showing up together. Deal?”

“Deal,” breathes Anna, leaning in and thinking, as Ruby’s lips meet hers, So this is how miracles taste.

(read on Ao3)

#annaby #annaruby #anna x ruby #ruby x anna #spn femslash #supernatural femslash #spn rare pairs #supernatural #spn #all i want for christmas is you #my writing #part 1 of petra writes pairs she's never tried before #as in i literally wrote down a bunch of rare pairs on post-its folded them up stuck them in a can and pulled one at random #this was fun!

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feralthoughtdump · 3 years

Text

Arsonist’s Lullaby

Part One: Kiss With A Fist

Part Two: Only Angel

Bucky and his Angel’s relationship grow closer.

Word Count: 6.8K

CW: violence, Bucky and his nightmares, John Walker being an ass, a little bit of fluff, smut, brief shower sex, Bucky steps on the reader with his boots, spitting, choking, spanking, Bucky using his metal arm, crying, FATWS ep. 3&4 spoilers

The cold air of the cargo container was strange, given that they were in a southeast Asian island. It sent a chill down Angel’s spine. Like something would go very wrong. They survey the empty space, searching for Nagel.

Sharon was certain Nagel was here, but there was no sight of him.

But Angel could hear the slight vibrations of music coming from… somewhere.

She approaches the back of the container and feels around the rough metal wall.

“Hey, I think he may be in here.” She beckons them over.

Pressing a gloved hand onto the metal, she pushed, revealing a small laboratory in front of them.

“You three go ahead.” She mutters. “I’ll keep an eye out with Sharon.”

Before they can say anything, she strides out of the container.

“You don’t need to worry about them.” Sharon crosses her arms as the door closes. “I know them well. They can hold their own.”

“Oh, I know.” Angel chuckles.

“Bucky likes to call you Angel, huh. Seems like you two bonded pretty quickly.”

She gives Sharon a humored look as they stroll around the dock.

“I thought psychopaths couldn’t form bonds.”

“You know I didn’t mean it.”

Their eyes dart all over the place, looking for any oncoming bounty hunters.

“How’d you get my photo anyways?”

“Heavy analysis of CCTV footage, a few phone calls, and a lot of digging. The photo was shit quality, but it was enough for me to go off of.”

“Was it enough to catch me?”

“I guess so. Then Zemo blew up the UN so we tabled the case.”

“Interesting. Maybe that UN bombing was a blessing in disguise. Saved me a life sentence in a high-security prison.”

They turned a corner.

“You wouldn’t have gone to jail. MI6 would’ve given you a job instead.”

“Hmph. I’d rather die than be a servant.”

From the corner of her eye, Angel spots a passing black shadow.

“Guys,” she presses a finger onto her earpiece. “Someone’s here.”

A gunshot rings out from the container and the hairs on the back of her neck stand. Sharon gives her a knowing look and they turn the safety off of their guns.

“Here.” Angel whispers, handing Sharon a knife. “It’ll come in handy.”

Three bounty hunters transverse on them and they open fire, taking them down one by one.

“We don’t have much time, hurry up!” Sharon yells into the earpiece.

A bounty hunter wraps their arms around Angel and she grabs a knife, jamming it into their arm.

Adrenaline floods her system, dialing her senses up to ten. A swift roundhouse kick sends another hunter tumbling to the ground.

From behind her, she hears Sam and Bucky yelling and she runs towards them.

“It’s in every action movie!” She hears Sam yell.

If her life wasn’t on the line, she would’ve laughed.

“You okay?” She pants.

“No! We’re not!” Sam yells. “Zemo shot Nagel!”

“What? Where is he?”

Her question was answered when a container set fire and exploded. She spots Zemo standing atop another, donning a purple mask. Before she can point him out, he sprints away.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Gunshots ring from her right and Bucky wraps a protective arm around her. In her peripheral she sees a bounty hunter riding towards her on a motorcycle, guns blazing. She quickly wriggles out of Bucky’s grasp and sends a knife into the tire, throwing the hunter off of the vehicle and into the fire.

“Good aim.” He says, mouth agape in surprise.

“You just threw that dude into a fire!” Sam exclaims.

“Yeah, well, he was going to kill us.”

They continue to run through the maze of crates, turning corner after corner, dodging bullet after bullet.

As much as he hates to admit it, the sight of Angel in action, when her violence wasn’t directed towards him, sends a rush through his system.

Zemo speeds towards them in a convertible, signaling them to get in. Sam jumps in the passenger seat while Bucky and Angel sit in the back.

Her pupils are blown wide and Bucky swears he can feel the electricity radiating off of her. Without stopping to calm down, he grabs her face in his hand and presses a passionate kiss on her lips.

His heart skips a beat when she kisses him back, and in the corner of his eye, he spots Sharon giving either him or Angel, a thumbs up.

…

Bucky makes it a habit to call her Angel all the time. He likes the way it slips off his tongue. He likes the way her eyes seem to glimmer when he calls her that. It’s as if the more he calls her Angel, she seems to glow more and more.

He calls her Angel when they board the jet on the way to Latvia.

He calls her Angel when she sits down to change the gauze on her thigh.

He calls her Angel when they get to the Riga safe house.

The more time he spends with her, the more he notices the little things about her. He notices how her tongue sticks out a little when she does her eye makeup.

He notices how her head would bop along to music in her earbuds

He notices how she’ll curl up on the couch, tucking her knees close to her body, while she sketches.

He notices how she’ll mutter curses in different languages. Mandarin, French, Russian, Spanish just to name a few.

He notices how she took off her jewelry when she showers with the exception of a gold chain. A gold chain with a dangling pendant. A pendant of a little angel.

He notices how she uses apple cinnamon body wash. It made her smell warm. It made her smell like home.

She gets along with Sam. Even Zemo.

She talks about philosophy with Zemo and when she converses with Sam, they talk about music.

She’s a force to be reckoned with. Fiery. Just like Selby had said. A firebird.

And despite her cool, hardened front, there was a gentleness to her.

The jet had touched down in Latvia late and night and they collectively decided to get a good night’s rest before finding Karli.

He had woken up from a nightmare. Reliving the memory of killing Yori’s son.

He didn’t know what compelled him to do it, but he padded over to Angel, reading Anna Karenina. Glasses perched on her nose, hair loose and resting past her shoulders.

She looks up at him.

“Nightmare?”

Bucky nods, tears pricking are his eyes.

She places the book on the floor and stretches out on the couch.

“Come here.” She whispers arms open wider

She let him lay his head on her chest, nose pressed against her sternum. With gentle hands, she runs her fingers through his hair, slowing his rapid heartbeat.

The serum had made his hearing sharper and from his position between her breasts, he could hear the soft thumping of her heart. It calmed him.

“Can you sing to me?” He mumbles.

The hand playing with his hair stops.

“Sing to you?” She asks.

“Mhm.”

“I-“ she pauses “I don’t really-“

“Please.” He begs.

She’s quiet, just calmly stroking his hair, then she sighs.

“What do you want me to sing?”

“Anything. Just… please, I want you to sing for me.”

She ponders for a moment before she parts her lips, voice shaky and quiet.

When I was a child, I heard voices

Some would sing and some would scream

You soon find you have few choices

I learned the voices died with me

He closes his eyes and noses at her sternum.

When I was a child, I'd sit for hours

Staring into open flame

Something in it had a power

Could barely tear my eyes away

The song is unfamiliar. He didn’t listen to music all that much anymore. And even when he listens to music, it was mostly from the 40s.

All you have is your fire

And the place you need to reach

Don't you ever tame your demons

But always keep 'em on a leash

Her voice, still soft and quiet, is haunting. The way it wraps around the lyrics, warms his heart. He breathes in the smell of her apple cinnamon body wash.

When I was 16, my senses fooled me

Thought gasoline was on my clothes

I knew that something would always rule me

I knew the scent was mine alone

He loves the way he can feel her chest move up and down. The way her voice sounds so rich with his ear pressed against her chest, the music echoing within her ribs.

All you have is your fire

And the place you need to reach

Don't you ever tame your demons

But always keep 'em on a leash

He reaches his hand to play with the angel pendant on her necklace. Finger running over the grooves.

When I was a man I thought it ended

When I knew love's perfect ache

But my peace has always depended

On all the ashes in my wake

As he drifts off to sleep, he can hear the last lines of the song lingering on her lips. The images from war. The torture he endured, the people he’s killed, the amends he has yet to make, all temporarily fade from his mind.

All you have is your fire

And the place you need to reach

Don't you ever tame your demons

But always keep 'em on a leash

And for the first time since Steve left, Bucky was able to sleep without disturbance.

…

“You have a lovely voice.”

Angel was pulled from her sleep when she hears Zemo’s voice.

She glares at him and places a finger on her lips, shushing him. Bucky was still lying on top of her, still asleep and she didn’t want to wake him.

“My apologies.” He smiles.

“Were you watching us last night?” She interrogates quietly.

“No, but I do have a keen sense of hearing. I heard you singing to James.”

She turns her head to meet his eyes.

“He had a nightmare. It was the least I could do for him.”

“Understandable.” He nods. “My son used to have nightmares and my wife’s voice was the only thing that could put him to sleep.”

“I’m sorry.” She mumbles sympathetically. “About your family, I mean. I know you lost them a while ago.”

Her hand combs through Bucky’s hair.

“I understand how vengeance and anger overtook you. You needed your revenge. But don’t hurt him.”

“Hurt who? James?”

“Yes.” Her voice darkens. “If you lay a finger on him, I won’t hesitate to bury you.”

Zemo sighs.

“I have no intention of harming him. I see the way you look at him. It’s the same look I used to give my wife. You care for him dearly and given your line of work, I know you’d do anything to avenge the people who harm the ones you love.” He walks towards her and offers her a cookie. Angel takes it with a wary hand.

“You’ve got anything else you want to say?”

“I do have a question about that song. I knew that something would always rule me.” He quotes. “Was that about yourself, or James?”

She narrows her eyes.

“It was just a song.”

“Yet it implies that something will always have power, control, over the songwriter.” He tilts his head.

“What are you implying, Baron?”

“It’s not an implication. It’s an observation. You two share a common trait. For James, it’s his past. His time as the Winter Soldier looms over him. As for you, you seem to have this, how do I say it, a compulsion to kill. It will always stick to you.”

“Baron, I suggest you pick your next words very carefully.”

Bucky stirs and she lifts her hand from his head.

“Mmm. Good morning.” He mumbles, voice rough and heavy.

“Good morning to you too sleepyhead.” She coos, rubbing his cheek with her thumb. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mhm.” He hums.

She gives Zemo a look that says ‘get out.’

Zemo gives her a smirk and walks away, leaving the two of them alone.

Bucky opens his eyes and Angel can feel her heart melt. He balances himself on his arm to press a kiss to her nose.

“You look cute with bed head.” He chuckles. “So pretty. I could just eat you up.”

“You look quite pretty when you sleep.” She giggles and rubs her nose against his.

He places his head back on her chest and they lie there for a while, listening to the sounds of the city.

Finally, she sighs.

“Alright, Bucky, I’m gonna go take a shower.”

He whines and wraps his arms around her.

“No, stay.”

“Bucky,” she says sternly, “I have to wash my hair, let go.”

With a huff, he sits up and lets her get off of the couch. As she stands she turns around spotting Bucky, arms crossed and a pout on his face.

“I never said you couldn’t join.”

Bucky jumps up and runs to her. He places his hands on her waist and turns her around, pressing a kiss to her lips. She links her fingers with his and he follows behind her towards the bathroom.

While they wait for the water to heat up, she reaches into her bag to pull out bottles of product.

He spots the shimmering bottle of apple cinnamon body wash and smiles.

“Apple cinnamon body wash.” He notes.

“Mhm. It's inexpensive but it smells nice.”

“It does.”

She places her hand under the stream of water and gets a feel for the temperature. The water is hot, just how she likes it. Her hands pull the t-shirt over her head and then her cotton underwear.

Bucky waits for her to step into the shower before he strips down and joins her.

A content smile crosses her face when the hot water hits her body but her peace is broken when she hears Bucky yelp.

“Why is the water so hot?”

“I like it hot.” She turns to face him and playfully pokes at his navel. “It’s relaxing.”

“You’re going to boil me alive.” He grumbles.

“If you don’t like the hot water,” She bluntly states, “then get out.”

She shampoos her hair, letting the bubbles froth around her fingers, and then she pours a bit into her hand and reaches up to massage it into Bucky’s hair.

He runs a metal finger down her sternum, collecting a bit of the bubbles that run down her body. When his finger reaches her scar, his touch lingers.

Seeing the guilt in his eyes, Angel places a finger underneath his chin and has him look into her eyes instead.

“Don’t.” She murmurs. “You’ll only torture yourself reminiscing on the past.” She pulls him under the stream, letting the water wash away the shampoo in their hair.

She’s got a meticulous shower routine, one that she likes to perform herself, yet she’s okay with Bucky standing next to her. When she combs the conditioner through her hair, she does the same for Bucky, knowing it would soften his hair even more and make it smell like vanilla and pomegranate.

She places a bit of the apple cinnamon body wash in her hands and rubs it onto his body. Her hands pay extra attention to the scar on his shoulder.

“It’s got vitamin E in it. Helps with scars.”

Bucky turns her around, making her face away from him.

She can’t see exactly what he’s doing, but she hums with relaxation when she feels his strong hands rub the body wash into her skin.

“You’ve got some knots in your shoulders.” He notes.

“I’m aware of that.”

“You’re stressed.”

“I am.”

When the water washes away the body wash, the shower is filled with the scent of apple cinnamon.

She’s surprised when she feels a kiss on the back of her shoulder but nevertheless, she enjoys it.

Bucky presses another kiss in the center of her shoulders and kisses her along the line of her back. He sinks to his knees and places a kiss onto the dimples of her back.

“Buck, what are you doing?” She smirks, turning around.

“I just wanna love on you.” He murmurs against her skin. “Can I?”

She blinks owlishly, then slowly nods her head.

“Y-yeah” she breathes.

Bucky places a kiss on her scar and runs his tongue over it, sending a fire through her.

“Open your legs for me, doll.”

She shyly parts her legs and Bucky smiles up at her.

He grabs her waist, hoisting her knees over his shoulders, pressing her back against the wall.

She lets out gaspy whines when he kisses and nips at her thighs, letting his stubble rub against the sensitive skin.

“Bucky,” she whimpers “we- we’re going to waste water.”

“Don’t worry about that, doll.” He murmurs. “Just let me make you feel good.”

He licks a stripe up her folds, causing her to gasp. She grabs onto his hair, pulling him closer.

“So sweet, baby. You taste so sweet.”

She doesn’t reply. She couldn’t. Not when he was making her feel so good.

She slaps her other hand onto the wall, trying to hold herself up. Bucky tightens his grip on her and leans in closer, continuously licking into her, making her head spin.

She tries to say something, tell him she’s close, tell him she’s going to cum quicker than she thought, but the only sounds that leave her mouth are breathy moans.

When he pulls away, she whines. He gives her a cocky grin.

“Wanna cum?”

She vigorously nods her head.

“That’s a shame.” He lets go of her legs, almost dropping her onto the tile, and wraps an arm around her waist to keep her steady. “We’ve got a big day ahead.” His tone is teasing, almost mean. “I’ll let you cum later.”

She’s left on the edge, and she’s angry. No, not angry. Frustrated. Frustrated and desperate.

“You’re mean.” She grumbles, shutting off the water.

“If you give me attitude, I won’t let you cum at all.” He chuckles.

She pushes him away and wraps a towel around her body.

“I don’t need you to cum anyways.” She grumbles under her breath.

As she walks away, he grabs her by the back of her neck and pulls her into his chest.

“If I were you,” He lowers his lips to her ear, “I’d behave. Now,” he releases his grip and gives her ass a smack. “Get dressed, we’ve got a lot to do today.”

She digs through her duffel to find a simple red jumpsuit. The neckline is low enough to be teasing, but it had enough support and pockets to be practical.

“Sounds like someone had a good morning.”

She turns around, a big grin stretching across her face when she sees Sam.

“Sam! Good morning!” She cheers.

“No need to good morning me when I woke up to the sound of fucking.” he grumbles, annoyance in his voice.

She chuckles as she buttons the front of her jumpsuit.

“So, Bucky tells me we have a lot going on today. What’s on the itinerary?”

“Hopefully, we can track down Karli and convince her to stop. At least that’s my plan.”

“Sounds good.”

He grabs his jacket from the chair. “I’m headed out to get something to eat. Do you want anything?”

“I’m okay.” She smiles at him. “Thanks for asking.”

Sam reaches the door and turns around.

“One more thing, you’ve got a great voice.”

“Was I that loud or did no one sleep at all last night?”

Sam chuckles.

“I think after the past few days, it’s hard for anyone to get a good night's sleep.” He looks down, fiddling with his fingers. “What you did… what you did for Bucky in Madripoor, when we were undercover…”

“What did I do?” She asks curiously.

“When Zemo had him go all Winter Soldier, you fought alongside him, you got to that first guy before Bucky did.”

Angel is quiet. She says nothing, looking down at her hands and picking at her cuticles.

“He might not say this to your face, but I’ve been around him long enough to know that he’s thankful. And so am I.”

She doesn’t know what to say. What would she even say?

“I can see now why he likes calling you Angel.”

With that, the door closes.

She walks over to the kitchen, looking through the cabinets. The shelves were fairly empty, mostly just tins of cookies and candy, and a box of cherry blossom tea. She huffs in frustration when her fingers brush over the tin of candy, barely moving it.

“Need some help, doll?”

Bucky grabs the tin and places it on the counter.

Her frustration is reignited at the sight of him in a tight, black t-shirt. She wants him to bend her over, fuck her until she sobs.

But she knows he won’t give her that.

Before she can grab it, Bucky holds it above his head.

“You’re evil.” She mutters. “Come on, give me it.”

“Nope!” He smirks.

“Go fu-“

She yelps when Bucky loops his thumb through the belt loop of her jumpsuit and pulls her close to him.

“Remember what I told you? Watch your language.”

“Give me the candy or you’re not getting head for a week.”

Bucky’s eyes widen and he hands her the box.

“Thank you.”

She presses a kiss to his nose and walks away with the box.

She knows what Bucky’s doing. He’s riling her up, teasing her.

But two can play that game.

She sits up on the counter and opens the tin.

Turkish Delight. Candy she used to eat as a child.

He’s staring at her. She can feel it. Her fingers pluck a candy from the box and hold it up.

“Want one?”

Bucky walks over to her and wedges himself between her thighs.

“Sure.”

She unwraps the candy and places a finger on his chin, beckoning him to open his mouth.

Her fingers place the treat on his tongue.

“Sweet, isn’t it?”

He kisses her and she can taste the sugar on his lips.

“Almost as sweet as you.”

She grabs another and hops off of the counter, humored by Bucky’s frustrated look.

“Sam probably wants everyone ready by the time he gets back. So, I don’t know.” She eyes him up and down, ready to drool at the sight of his arms. “Get dressed.”

“Oh doll, I’m already dressed.” He chuckles.

“Good. Then help me out.” Her fingers deftly unbutton the top of her jumpsuit, exposing her black sports bra. She reaches for her harness and shoves it in Bucky’s hands. “Buckle me in.”

…

Sex was the last thing on her mind when she’s face to face with the new Captain America.

“Karli Morganthau is too dangerous for you to be pulling this shit.” He yells.

Angel rolls her eyes at the sight of John Walker.

“How’d you find us now?” Bucky replies, voice full of annoyance.

“You think two Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?”

Angel’s seen his face in the news. Lemar, the better of America’s new dynamic duo.

“No more keeping us in the dark, and you can tell us why you broke him” John points to Zemo “out of prison.”

“He did that himself, technically.” Bucky answers.

“That is an unbelievable explanation! And who the hell are you?” He points to Angel.

“I’m a friend.” She grumbles, eyes narrowed.

“You have no business being here. And whatever you’re wearing, all you’re going to do is draw attention.”

“And your little Mr. America getup isn’t?”

“Why don’t you go back to working in European intelligence or whatever it is you do.”

“You better watch your mouth, Mr. Walker.” She snarls. “Is that really how you speak to a lady?”

“I know where Karli is.” Zemo interrupts their feud.

“Well, where?”

“All we know is,” Sam answers, “It’s a memorial. We’ll intercept her there.”

“That means civilians, high risk of casualties.” Lemar states.

“Alright good.” John schemes. “We’ll move in fast, take her by surprise.”

“Not a good idea, John.” Angel retorts. He halts in his steps and turns to her.

“You have no clue what you’re getting yourself into. This is an American situation.”

She leans in until she’s staring into his eyes. Rage broils inside of her.

“Let me tell you something John, I don’t care about your medals of honor. I don’t care that you’re wearing that red and blue suit. So I’ll tell you this once, and only once. If you dare speak to me like this again, I won’t hesitate to-“

Bucky pulls her back, giving her a stern look.

“Hey,” he rubs her shoulder, trying to settle her anger. “He’s not worth it.”

“Oh, so she’s your little girlfriend huh?”

Angel presses the tip of her knife against his chin and backs him into a wall.

“You stay out of Bucky’s business.” She seethes.

“Hey, hey, hey!”

This time, both Sam and Bucky had to pull her away, but she keeps her murderous glare trained on him.

“Jesus Christ, Barnes. Keep your little psycho under control.” John spits.

“Hey, don’t speak to her like that,” Sam demands. “Just because you don’t know her doesn’t give you an excuse to be rude.”

“Either you show her some respect,” Bucky says “or all of the help we have to offer is off of the table.”

Sam nods in agreement and eventually so does Zemo, who adds a small shrug.

“I wasn't actually going to kill him.” She mutters under her breath.

“We know.” Sam pulls her into a side hug. He directs his words back to John. “I want to talk to her alone.”

“I’m not losing her again.”

“Look, the person closest to her died. She’s vulnerable. If there’s any time to reason with her, it’s now.”

“What?” John halts in his steps. “No, wait stop. We are way past reasoning with her.”

“Sam,” Lemar states. “If you walk in there cold, you could die.”

“But if you walk in guns blazing, you could have the blood of hundreds of civilians on your hands.” Angel folds her arms. “Besides, if things go wrong, I’m trained in mixed martial arts.”

“You think a black belt will save you from a super-soldier?”

Angel snorts.

“It has before.”

Bucky looks down and stifles a laugh.

“I used to counsel soldiers dealing with trauma, okay?” Sam argues with John. “This is in my wheelhouse.”

They’re all silent, staring daggers at each other.

“John,” Lemar breaks the silence “If he can talk her down, it might be worth a try.” He gives Angel a kind smile. “And I think we give this girl a chance to show us what she’s got.”

“Thank you.” She smiles back.

“I’m sure this can all come to an agreeable conclusion.” Zemo points forward. “My associate is just up ahead.”

They watch as Zemo approaches a young girl, handing her some money. She beckons them to follow her down a cobblestone path, into a building, and through the boiler room.

“You’ve got ten minutes,” John states while handcuffing Zemo to a pipe. “Then we’re doing things my way.”

While they wait, Angel spends her time playing with her butterfly knife, spinning the handle around her fingers.

“How do you not cut yourself doing that?” Lemar asks.

She spins the knife closed.

“I have before, it’s just about practice and being careful. Here, I’ll show you.”

Bucky observes Angel showing off her knife tricks to Lemar.

Despite the stressful situation, he still felt a pang of possessiveness. She was his Angel. He gave her that name and when she said she’d accepted it. In a way, she was his and he was hers.

“What’s your name? I don’t think you’ve ever told me.”

He hears Lemar ask.

Angel giggles.

“It’s Artemis. Like the goddess.”

Artemis. It’s fitting, Bucky thinks. The goddess of the hunt.

“That’s really cool. Let me guess, your parents were huge mythology fans?”

“You can say that.” She chuckles.

His eyes narrow when she smiles at Lemar.

Their conversation continues and Bucky’s jealousy burns brighter when she places her fingers on the fabric of Lemar’s suit, giving him a comment on how she’s got an eye for fashion and how nice the fabric was. From his position by the door, he sees her turn to him and give him a wink.

Bucky scowls. That little minx.

John crosses his arms and stares daggers into her.

“What exactly do you do, anyway?” He scoffs. “Are you some kind of spy?”

Angel raises a brow.

“I’m not a spy. I’m just a problem solver.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” John shakes his head and secures the shield on his arm. “Nevermind. I’m going in.”

“Oh, come on John, it’s only been eight minutes.”

“No. Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not-” Angel sighs and turns away, focusing her attention on pulling her hair back.

Bucky stops him before John can get through the doorway.

“It must be so easy for you.” John’s voice is full of malice. “All that serum running through your veins. Barnes, your partner needs backup. Do you really want his blood on your hands?”

Bucky can see Angel slowly shake her head, telling him not to give in to John’s words. But he can’t. He’s already done so much harm. He’s responsible for the deaths of so many people, he can’t let Sam become another.

So, he lets John walk past him, Lemar following along.

Angel runs up to him.

“Bucky, why’d you do that?”

“I can’t… I can’t risk it. I can’t risk losing him.”

She sighs and places a gentle hand on his cheek.

“I understand.” Her lips land a gentle kiss on his nose. “But don’t let his words get to you. Now,” She grins and lightly smacks his ass. “Go make sure he doesn’t kill anyone.”

With one final kiss, Bucky runs off.

She turns around to see the handcuffs dangling from the pole. Her blood runs cold. Zemo escaped and who knows what he’ll do.

She runs through the halls, boots quietly slapping on the concrete floors. From her left, she hears a series of loud gunshots and crunching glass.

Her feet lightly tread next to the walls, ears picking up every little sound.

She jumps, heartbeat pounding when the thump of a body falling to the ground meets her ears.

Did Zemo kill someone? Was it Karli? Another Flag-Smasher?

She runs through the door closest to her. From behind a table, she spots John staring at a small vial. A small vial of the serum. Before she can say anything, he runs away.

As she quietly walks into the room, she spots Zemo, lying on the ground, unconscious. No one else was here.

She crouches down next to him and gently shakes his shoulder.

“Baron? Zemo? Come on, wake up.”

He doesn’t move.

She picks up his wrist, pressing her pointer and middle fingers on the vein. A sigh of relief passes her lips at the feeling of a pulse.

Her hands shake his shoulder again, this time, with more vigor.

“Zemo!” She shouts.

His eyes snap open and he groans in pain.

“You passed out Baron.”

“I’m aware.” He grumbles. “John Walker threw the shield at me.”

“Of course he did.”

She offers him a hand and helps him stand up.

“Can you walk?” She asks.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be okay.”

The two make their way through the city until they reach Zemo’s apartment. Sam was already there, typing away on his computer.

Angel wets a towel in the kitchen and hands it to Zemo.

“Go, lie down. Put this over your eyes.”

She walks down the hall towards Bucky’s room. With a tired sigh, she removes her shoes, jumpsuit, and harness.

Her eyes close as she lies on the bed in her underwear. The sports bra felt much too tight but she didn’t care. She was tired. Her morning sexual frustration had caught up to her but she didn’t feel like doing anything about it.

Even though it was only seven in the evening, she just wanted to sleep.

Right when she’s drifting off to sleep, the slam of the bedroom door jolts her awake.

Bucky is standing in front of her, arms crossed, eyes filled with rage.

“Get off the bed.” He snarls.

She laughs and rolls over onto her stomach.

“No. If sex is what you want, let’s do it on the bed.”

She hears a sigh behind her and her eyes widen when she feels Bucky’s hands wrap around her ankles.

“Buck, what are you-”

Her words come to a halt when he pulls her off of the bed and onto her knees.

“You wanted me to fuck you?” He seethes. “Fuck you rough until you can’t speak?”

“That was the plan.” She smirks.

He twists a hand in her hair and pulls her head back. Her breath is shallow as she looks up, meeting Bucky’s angry eyes.

He’s mad. At the entire Karli situation, and maybe with her. But his anger towards her, she assumes, is fiery, lustful anger. Anger that she can have a lot of fun with.

“If you had let me cum earlier,” She snaps, “ maybe I wouldn’t have been such a brat.”

She rubs her thighs together, trying to alleviate the arousal burning through her. A whine leaves her lips when he kicks her legs apart.

He tightens his grip on her hair.

“You really need to learn some respect.”

Bucky places the toe of his boot on her back and pushes her face down onto the floor. She doesn’t resist, giving in to his dominance.

“Aww, look at you,” he mocks, “You were so bold earlier, my Angel. Where did that fire go?”

Her heart swells. He’s no longer calling her Angel. He’s called her his Angel. She was his.

Footsteps echo around her and she takes a shaky breath when his black boots come into view.

“Look at me, doll. I wanna see those pretty eyes.”

His voice is commanding, authoritative. It drew her in, made her head spin.

She looks up at him with wide eyes as he bends down on a knee.

“Were you trying to rile me up? Trying to make me angry?”

She nods.

Bucky roughly grabs her chin, cold metal digging into her cheeks.

“Use your words.”

“Y-yes Sergeant.” She squeaks.

He stares down at her, anger and lust in his eyes.

“Open your mouth.”

Her lips part and Bucky spits, letting his saliva pool on her tongue.

His fingers press on her chin, closing her mouth. She swallows, heat burning in her tummy.

“So now, you want to be a good girl, huh?”

He picks her up by her neck and shoves her face into the soft mattress. His fingers loop around the elastic waistband of her panties and pull, the fabric digging into her cunt.

“Yes, I’m your good girl.” She whines. “I’ll be good. Promise.”

He leans in close, his warm breath brushing over her ear.

“I don’t believe you.”

He rears his metal hand against her ass, leaving a red handprint of her skin.

A choked breath leaves her lips. She relishes in the pain and gives him a cocky smile.

“Is that all you got Sarge?”

He lands another hard smack, this time on her thigh. A whimper escapes her lips.

“Oh, you’re really asking for it, aren’t you?”

He shifts his hand on her neck, wrapping it around the front of her neck. She squeezes at the sides, slowing the circulation of blood to her head.

She opens her mouth to speak, but the hand on her throat stops the words from leaving her lips.

The clinking of his belt buckle sends a wave of lust through her.

She was finally getting what she wanted.

His hand on her neck is released and she takes in a sharp breath.

He pulls her panties down her legs and throws them to the side.

She gasps at the feeling of cold metal rubbing between her folds. Her fingers dig into the sheets, grabbing at the fabric.

“You’re practically dripping.” He muses, “Who knew you were such a masochist?”

“Only for you.” She keens.

“Only for me? Not for anyone else?”

“Yes! Yes! Only you!”

Bucky hums and lands another smack on her ass. She yelps and tears threaten to spill from her eyes.

He shoves two fingers inside of her and she gasps at the cool feeling of the metal.

She squirms around as he twists his fingers, pressing against that spot inside of her.

Hunger swarms her brain. She wanted, no, needed more.

What he’s doing is sadistic, she thinks. Constantly bringing her to the edge, but never letting her tip over.

He lets his thumb press against her clit and the tears she’s been trying to hold back spill over. She lets out a quiet sob into the sheets but Bucky doesn’t stop his movements.

“I need more.” She quietly whimpers.

“You think you have the right to beg?” He asks nonchalantly. “After that little show?”

“I’m sorry.” She cries.

Her eyes squeeze shut and she turns her head, letting her cheek rest on the bedsheets. When she glances up, she can see Bucky’s amused smirk.

She feels the tip of his cock pressing against her entrance and she holds her breath.

“Oh doll,” he coos, thumbing away her tears, “You’re so pretty when you cry.”

A sudden thrust of his hips buries his cock inside of her. Bucky clamps his hand over her lips, muffling her desperate cries.

“Shh, shh,” He whispers gently. “It’s okay, love. Be a good girl and take it.”

He starts moving, his hips slowly thrusting into her. The fire inside of her burns, hotter and hotter. Her head is reeling as she feels herself come closer to her impending orgasm. Despite how rough he is with her, she feels safe. Safe with him. She feels safe enough to fall into submission, open and pliant for him.

Her sobs against his hand become louder, more intense and he bends down to nip at her neck.

“Are you gonna cum, angel? Cum all over my cock?”

She nods, eyes squeezed shut.

“Do you think you deserve it?” He asks.

“No,” she mumbles against his hand. “But I want to.”

He brushes his fingers down the length of her back and she shivers.

“You wanna cum, doll? Ask nicely.”

He releases his hand and grabs her hip, pulling her deeper onto his cock.

“Please.” She gasps. “Please, let me cum!”

“You have to do better than that.”

“Please, I’ll be so good for you! I’ll never flirt with anyone again! Just please! Please, I wanna cum.”

He picks up his pace, and she finds it harder to stave off her orgasm.

“So polite.” He hums, “But not yet.”

She lets out a pathetic sob.

“Please.” She whimpers.

“Be patient. You’ll get to cum soon.”

Her breaths are shallow as she tries to keep herself from cumming. She bites down on her lower lip but the pain does little to help.

Relief washes over her when Bucky speaks again.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me. Come on angel, cum for me.”

Her teeth bite down on the sheets as she’s hurtles over the edge, her orgasm sending shockwaves through her body.

As her chest heaves and her mind becomes foggy, she can barely feel Bucky pull out and releases him cum on her back.

She lies there, upper half sprawled over the mattress, a dopey smile on her face. A hum of pleasure slips past her lips when Bucky wipes his cum away with a warm washcloth.

“You okay, doll?” He asks.

She nods her head.

The bed shifts as he sits on the bed and pulls her towards him.

“Come on,” He lies down and pulls her close to him. He noses at the back of her shoulder. “Get some rest.”

The sun was about to set, bathing their bodies in a golden glow. He runs his metal fingers over her bicep, cooling down her heated skin.

She’s tired, so tired. Yet she’s happy. The first time in a long time that she’s actually felt happy.

“Bucky?” She asks in a fucked out daze.

“Yes my angel?”

A moment of silence passes.

“You’re the only one who’s made me feel human.”

...

Once again, tysm @sojournmichael for reading over my little snippets of writing!

#bucky x female reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #tfatws #bucky fanfic

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adaodinson · 3 years

Text

Thank you

I got the inspiration for this since I watched Rush again (one of my favorite movies). I really enjoyed writing it so I hope you enjoy reading it :)

And well my obsession on Daniel Brühl makes no sign on leaving any time soon, so I’m putting that to good use.

Summary: Niki notices his new neighbor the second she moves in next to him, will you notice him?

Warnings: swearing, assholes and Niki being a little shit that knows what he’s doing.

Relationship: Niki Lauda x fem!reader.

You sighed as you carried the last box into your new house. You had started taking everything inside with a rather positive energy, but after four hours you were exhausted. Everything was now inside, but as you closed the door and turned to look at your small living room, the sight made you want to cry. Sure, everything was inside, but it was still packed up.

-You know what- you talked to the air- I´ll do that tomorrow, I´m gonna treat myself cause this was fucking exhausting-.

You walked towards your new kitchen. Of course, the only things that were unpacked were your writing tools and cooking tools. As you walked around the counter a sudden feeling of tired happiness filled you. You had finally found a job you adored, and at the need, you didn´t hesitate in moving out from your country into this new, small place. It was perfect for a person or two; or as your case happened to be, one person and two cats. You were starting, doing what you loved, and you knew it was going to be tough, but you weren´t expecting anything else.

Almost automatically, you started settling all the ingredients for spaghetti bolognesa on the counter, and since you knew the recipe by heart, the only thing you used your phone for was to play your favorite music. As you danced and sang around, you moved gracefully, working with the stove, chopping what was needed and mixing expertly. You had always loved cooking, and you were pretty good at it, if you said it yourself. But you never saw it as a career. Your thing was writing.

As you waited for the pasta to cook and the sauce to simmer, you looked outside the window when a sudden light in the next-door house was turned on. It was pretty close, so you had a good sight of the inside. It looked cozy, but it seemed whoever lived there didn´t spend most of their time inside. Curiously, you waited to see if you could get a glimpse of the person, but after a few minutes passed, you gave up and went back to the kitchen.

Niki was just arriving to his house. He was, as usual, exhausted. All he wanted was to finish the phone calls he needed to do and go to bed, but an amazing smell that he immediately recognized as bolognesa caught his every action. He headed for the window, and that was when he saw you. You were wearing a pair of dark blue pants and a purple hoodie, and even though your mother would have said you looked like a homeless person, Niki thought you were insanely cute. Of course he always kept that kind of thoughts to himself, but he couldn´t help but staring as you danced around the kitchen, checking on the pasta and mixing up the sauce. He could get a rather low volume of your so inspired singing, but what he managed to hear was beautiful.

-Huh, she´s pretty, dances, cooks, and sings… what a sight I get from here- He said to himself, allowing his mind to take you in and think of you, not only in a bit of a sexy way, but in a cute one as well.

From that day on Niki caught glimpses of you many times, doing different things. He learnt so much about you, but at the same time, he knew nothing. It was obvious you had two cats, and that they loved you as much as you loved them. His heart had ached the first time he saw you laying on your small garden, with your back facing up, and with both of your cats cuddled on top of your back as you slept. For those moments, he allowed himself to feel, knowing it wouldn´t lead anywhere. But it was only for those few minutes that he saw you that he let his mind find somebody so cute and not try to find something wrong with them. He never expected people to know who he was, but he thought someone like you wouldn’t have gone unnoticed at the races, not just by him, but by the other drivers as well, so he knew you probably didn´t know him for his career.

You had seen your new neighbor a few times, and God wasn´t he attractive. You swore you had seen him somewhere, but couldn´t quite place your finger on where. You knew nothing about the guy, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to stop making fake scenarios in your head; ones in which he would look at you for the first time and fall for you, but you knew it was normal to fantasize that way. The day you finally talked to him though, was a... weird one, to say the least.

You had bought a new couch but forgot to specify in the delivery form that you needed help taking it inside, so when you saw the huge furniture, you felt like screaming.

Niki was arriving from a morning of work with Clay. It was one of those rare days in which he got an afternoon for himself. After parking his car, he walked towards his house, and as he reached for his keys he stepped on something and fell on his ass with a hard smack.

-OUCH- he whined as he tried getting up. The second you felt something hit your foot you knew something was going to go wrong, and when you turned to see your cute neighbor (that happened to have an Austrian accent) on the ground with an angry face, your fear came real.

-What the hell was… watch out next ti…-He yelled but couldn´t finish. The second he saw you on your knees holding the wrap around the couch, he realized he had stumbled with your foot, and his angry face immediately changed into a soft one.

-I´m sorry, is your foot okay?- He asked, feeling stupid at the second the words left his mouth. You looked at him with a confused and embarrassed look.

-What? No, don´t you apologize, I´m sorry, I should have been more careful as to where I was sitting. Please don´t apologize, are you okay?- You said as you stood up and offered your hand to help him get up.

-Yeah, I´m fine, do you need help with that?- Niki knew there were first times for everything, but he cringed at the words that were coming out of him, they seemed to make you happy though, so it didn´t bother him for that long. He wasn´t always an asshole, but he definitely wasn´t used to being nice either. Around you it seemed to come out automatically, and he hated it but loved the way it made you smile. He had so many mixed feelings that he was actually feeling nervous. What the hell is wrong with me, he thought.

-Oh yes please! If it´s not too much trouble, I´ve been trying to take this inside for 40 minutes and well, you can see how good that´s going- He chuckled softly and you felt your heart skip a beat at the sound.

Without another word, he headed for one side of the couch as you grabbed the other one, but before you could lift it, about three people with shirts that spelled “James Hunt” interrupted.

-Hey rat face- a tall, dark haired man said as the other two behind him laughed- hey cutie, is the asshole bothering you?- He said looking at you. Who the hell does this idiot think he is?

Niki´s face was serious, just serious. He didn´t even look at the guy, almost as if he was used to that type of thing happening, and he made no sign to want to do anything about it. It impressed you how it seemed like he genuinely didn´t care about this guy, but you weren´t taking any of it, so before any of the idiots said anything else, you spoke.

-No, actually, the ugly assholes bothering are you three shitheads, so if you could walk on and leave us alone, I would mostly appreciate it- You said with a harsh tone and a serious grin. Niki dramatically turned his face with a shocked and amused expression towards you. The three guys didn´t seem to have any clever response, but their heads were too filled with ego to actually leave.

-Hey, you heard her! Go away assholes!- Niki finally said. They walked looking at each other. They clearly weren´t expecting any of you to talk back.

-Thank you- Niki said with an almost inaudible tone.

-Don´t thank me- you said with a smile- the idiots only wish they were as handsome as you are...- That last part came out without you wanting it to. You immediately covered your mouth with your hand and tried to ignore the surprised but hugely amused grin on Niki´s face.

-I´m sorry, I´m sorry, I didn´t mean to say that I…-

-Do you really think that?- You would have liked to say he was genuinely asking, maybe he was, but now it was pretty clear he was teasing you because of the stupid smirk that covered his face.

-Maybe…- You said as you looked to the floor.

-I´m Niki- He said as he took his hand from the couch and placed it for you to shake. That smirk was still plastered in his face.

-I´m Y/N…- You said hesitantly as you shook his hand, not looking at his face.

-You´re beautiful, you know?- Niki stated with a proud tone. Oh he knows what he´s doing.

You weren´t even able to answer, your face was redder than the apples that were hanging from the tree in front of your house, and as much as you wanted to, you couldn´t come up with any way of teasing him back.

-So, let´s take this inside- He said as he lifted the couch. You only nodded and followed. Niki was dying. He found it so insanely cute and amazing how just a few seconds ago you were being a badass against the assholes that bothered him, but when he complemented you, you couldn´t even bring yourself to answer.

You had no stairs, but it was a relatively long trip, so you really appreciated his help. As you settled the couch on it´s place, both of you fell dramatically into it and sighed at the effort.

-Let me make dinner for you, as a thank you- You said shyly but with a little bit more confidence.

-I´d love that, gorgeous- He said as he winked, and you felt your insides melting. Once again, he had you wrapped around his finger, you both knew it, and you both loved it. You led him to the kitchen and as you pulled out the ingredients, you felt two hands hesitantly grabbing your waist. Hesitantly not because he wasn´t sure he wanted to place his hands on your waist, but because he didn´t want to overstep.

You leaned into his touch and he got the answer he wanted. All afternoon you spent dancing with Niki behind you, talking with you and complementing how amazing everything smelled. You secretly thanked your past self for forgetting to ask for help on the couch, since that mistake led to one of the best things in your future: Niki Lauda.

#niki lauda fanfiction #daniel brühl character #daniel brühl fanfic #daniel bruhl x reader #niki lauda x reader #niki lauda #niki lauda daniel #rush #rush 2013 #daniel brühl #fem!reader #niki lauda x fem!reader

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cinnamontoastandtears · 3 years

Text

random fic time

so, i got a request for a mcharrison teddy boy era first kiss, and putting aside how long it took me to write it, i also messed it up a little by turning it into a bit of an angst fest and making it way too plotty (must be riding my high from the other george/paul fic lmao) but i wanted to give this to y’all anyway so: here you go !!

(to the anon that requested the first kiss in the first place, dw, i’m going to write you another)

warning: drunkenness and a brief description of nausea

George stumbled up the steps with big thunks, feet heavy from the whiskey in his system, whiskey in his system because he’d been drinking alone.

Paul had been too busy with John to go out with him. Perfect John, with his perfect fucking hair, and his not-so-perfect guitar playing that even Paul, ever the perfectionist, seemed to love.

So George drank alone. And now he was coming back to the hotel alone, arms empty and mind clouded so he didn’t have to think about who he wished was in them. The view of their floor greeted him before he was ready to meet it and a groan left his lips.

He composed himself against the peeling wallpaper for a few minutes before steeling himself and trudging into the room he shared with Paul.

He found the slightly older man alone, surprisingly, strumming away on his guitar, fingers flashing and angry and not caring that they were making discordant sounds.

“Where’s John?” he muttered, letting the door slam behind him.

“With Stu,” Paul bit out, strumming hard again.

Oh. Right.

George had forgotten he wasn’t the only one that could be jealous. (Or something like that, it wasn’t that he was so jealous anyway, but-)

“Hmm,” George said, flopping down onto his bed. His stomach hated him for that, churning and sending a brief taste of bile to the back of his throat. “Guess you an’ I are one in the same then, eh?”

Paul stopped playing. George replayed his last words back over in his head, taking a minute to let it dawn on him. He shouldn’t have said that.

There came the sound of Paul moving his guitar to the side of the bed, and then more shuffling George’s deaf-from-a-crowded-bar ears couldn’t interpret. So late an hour, so complicated of feelings. His head felt like a brick.

Paul must have stood up in the lengthy amount of time it took George to figure all those sounds out (the shucking of a jacket and belt and shoes), for he was then standing over George’s bed, looking threatening as a shadow in the dark room.

“What do you mean?”

“What?”

“What did you mean, ‘we’re one in the same’?”

George knew. He knew what Paul meant, the question he was asking without even fuckin asking it, bitter with only half-wisdom on his side. (Paul was wise enough to figure himself out, not quite enough for other people. Though, of course, he was still a teenager, so there may have been lack of maturity involved as well.)

“Jus’…” George started, heaving his upper half from where it had finally rested comfortably on the lumpy mattress. “Jus’…”

He’d never been good at putting his feelings right. Never been good at explanations or confrontation or any of the shit you were supposed to be able to say to someone when you felt violated or when you wanted something. So maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the sheer-fucking-unfairness, but something deep inside made George gather all his feelings and spit them out of his mouth.

“You’re not the only one who gets to act jealous an’- an’ be a prick to everyone because of it. You do it too! Don’t be sittin’ there all stupid an’ angry and envious when you’re just as bad as John leavin’ with Stu to do god-knows-what. That’s not fuckin’ fair.”

George got the impression he sounded whiny, so he closed his mouth, not wanting to give Paul any reason to call him a child or immature or anything so harsh. (Barely nine months. Barely nine months and he felt entitled to treat him like that.)

“What…?” Paul’s face wasn’t clear to George even though he’d shifted and his feet were in between Paul’s feet and he was looking up at his face. This didn’t mean that he didn’t know the exact expression that was etched there.

Ticked brow, slanted mouth, bottom lip pulled slightly in. George had studied this face at length. He knew how it looked when confused.

“I’m here, fuckin’ off by myself while you’re out with John, givin’ each other a hand or some utter bullshite like that, leavin’ me alone. An’ that’s why it’s not fuckin’ fair for me to come home an’ you to be awake an’ upset an’ goin’ ‘what?’ like you don’t fuckin’ know exactly what.”

If George was the type of person who cried, he’d be in tears by now, he’d be ugly-crying and sniveling and shit and Paul probably would’ve backed away instead of doing what he did instead, which was to sink down next to George on the bed and sigh.

“I…” he started, then stopped. It almost made sense. Such an eloquent person, yet when the quiet one spoke up, all his words lost. “How do you feel about me then?” he asked instead, turning the burden of talking back to George.

The room was still dark, his head was still fogged, Paul’s shoulder brushed his and he shuddered. That should’ve said it all, really.

“What do you mean?” he asked, unintentionally mirroring Paul’s question from earlier.

“You’re jealous of me-“

“I’m jealous of John.”

“Oh. Well… right, well, jealous of him then.” Paul paused again like he was going to say something else. “For…?”

“For replacin’ me.”

“Oh.”

“Continue,” George offered, motioning with his hand.

“You’re jealous of John… for replacin’ you… an’ you’re angry at me for bein’—“ George wondered if he’d admit it, “—jealous of Stuart.” If George was a bit more sober he’d be impressed. “So I just wanna know what you think of me. Are you angry or do you wish that you were in John’s place, gettin’ to be with me like…”

George’s brain alerted him to a tone that hadn’t been in Paul’s voice before. Something almost flirtatious, walking a dangerous line between something he wanted and something he wasn’t sure he wanted. He’d always just wanted to be close to Paul. Who wouldn’t want that? But this close, what the way his hands reaching down into the gap between his and Paul’s thighs implied, this close he’d never thought of before. (And so what if that was a lie, it wasn’t like everyone was telling the truth tonight.)

“George?” Paul asked, letting George lace their fingers together.

“This is what I think of you,” he said, instead of answering the not-really-question, and put his other hand on Paul’s cheek.

“What—?”

“You known exactly what.” And George kissed him.

He hadn’t had many kisses in his life time, exactly, but enough to know when a kiss was good. Kissing Paul was good. Not right, something this taboo couldn’t possibly be right, but good nonetheless, heavenly somehow, Paul’s favorite—perfect.

Paul’s lips were soft and small and wet, and George couldn’t believe he was kissing them, that their lips were the ones meeting and not Paul and John’s like they always threatened to. Then Paul pulled away just a second to breathe, gasping and moaning just the tiniest bit, which sent George’s mind away, leaving him unprepared for when Paul dove in again.

George pushed him down into the mattress and Paul let him and Paul was letting him, and he was kissing back and…

They pulled away eventually and George rolled off of Paul’s chest, not wanting to crush him with his… well he didn’t weigh much so it might have been fine, but even still.

“That’s how I feel about you,” he managed to say, voice the tiniest bit wrecked from kissing for so long.

“I… me too… how I feel about you too,” Paul said, sounding like he was in a dream, somewhere far away.

This confused George. He’d only just figured out he felt for Paul this way, and didn’t he… didn’t John and Paul…

“What about John?”

“What about him?” Paul asked.

“Don’t you… how do you feel about him?”

George felt Paul turn toward him, so he turned too, and they were facing with each other and this was confrontation, a thing George wasn’t good at.

“I don’t… me an’ John are friends, Georgie. That’s it.”

“But you… but why…” There were several things that didn’t make sense about this. If Paul really liked him, wanted to kiss him and be with him, why did he spend all his time with John? Why did he ignore George, why was he only even here in their room because John was with Stuart?

“No.”

“No?”

“That’s still not fair,” George whispered, pretending that tears weren’t pricking his eyes. (And maybe he was the kind of person who cried.) “You can’t be tellin’ me you feel this way about me an’ then ignore me an’ be mopey when John’s gone. You can’t do that, Paul. What is that kinda shit?”

“I…” Paul started, then stopped again, losing his eloquence all over. “I don’ know…”

That wasn’t good enough. George said so and Paul’s eyebrows turned into each other and George wondered how he could save this friendship.

He didn’t have any time to think about that though because Paul kissed him again, and he wanted this, and this was what he wanted… wasn’t it?

“Paul…” George pulled away from the kiss. (How could something that felt so good be so bad and wrong and-)

“George, I don’ know how to explain myself. Maybe I was jus’ so scared that you were gonna reject me that I spent all my time with John to avoid that. But I promise, really, I promise, Geo, I don’ feel this way about John.”

The thing was, George wasn’t sure if he believed him. He wasn’t sure he was supposed to. But… Paul looked at him again, and the room was dark, and his eyes were shining, and they were alone.

So if they kissed a few more times or fell asleep in the same bed together, that would be enough right now. (And if John and Stuart came back the next morning, John’s collarbone littered with suspicious marks… Well, Paul wore them too, and George could lose a bit of the green in his eyes.)

#george harrison #paul mccartney #the beatles #beatles fanfiction #mcharrison #george/paul #angst #teddy boy era #first kiss #oh look i’ve written something

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lovely-necromancy · 3 years

Text

A Cure for Insomnia Ch 19

Your bags were jumping and sliding around in the back of Madeline's rusty pickup truck. She had been kind enough to offer you a ride up to the lodge when she stopped by the shop earlier.

Madeline had seen the sour look Nate kept sending you and how you were intentionally not looking over towards the soon to be graying young man. Not one to beat around the bush she asked what was up, mam bear mode peeking through.

Nate was just being a dick to you and saying you had to stay with the Cowells longer than what had originally been agreed to. Big Jo seemed fine about letting you go back home now, even with your resolve set to continue hanging out with Toby. But Nate was trying to put a tight leash on you since you “wouldn't listen to reason” - so he said.

Even with security at the cottage updated Nate still thought it best to keep you with them if you were planning to still interact with Toby. More than likely he was trying to make that harder for you to do since staying with them would definitely make it easier for him to keep track of you.

The thought alone set shivers down your spine. Like a constrictor slithering up your back to rest around your neck and do what it does best.

It had been really hard to breathe these last few days.

But all Madeline needed to hear was “Nate” and “being a dick” before she said she'd take you herself. Thereby ending the conversation and silent argument in the shop, as she spun on her heel stating when she'd pick you up later.

Nate hadn't been too happy about the exchange but he could suck your dick. He's been annoying you with all this Toby bullshit and doesn't get to tell you what he thinks right now.

The drive up is silent, but that comfortable kind of silence between two old friends who don't ever really have a need to talk to hang out. It's nice because it gives you tons of time to think about just what you're about to do.

Going over several scripts all at once in your head.

You want to talk to Toby. You still haven't read that file but it just doesn't sit right with you that it was ever even given to you in the first place. Toby being completely unaware of the total breech of privacy makes your stomach flip just like your bags in the back right now. It's not like you ever asked for the detailed life file but at the same time it feels wrong not to let Toby know tht something like that even exists for him. His past being dug back up all without his knowledge or consent. And now here you were about to lay it right down in front of him.

Was this the right move? You're the one bringing it to his attention, if it's something that will mess him up it'll be your fault that he's upset. Jo and Nate may have gotten the information but you still count yourself as being a complacent party to all of this.

Your stomach feels like it's on a drop tower as it sinks further into a pit of guilt.

You feel like the scum of the Earth right now. Hopefully he isn't too upset.

Seeing your downcast eyes, you were a lot more expressive than you ever really realized, Madeline pipes up, “You gon' be ok there sport?”

A small smile bit at your lips. There's a reason Madeline Cobb was known in Kepler as Mama. She took care of those she saw as her own and that was damn near half the town at this point. Hell you'd heard a rumor she raised most this town. The lodge had been her orphanage before all the kids grew up and turned it into a resort once new arrivals stopped coming. That's probably the reason it's always been so warm and welcoming, it was a home first.

“Yea...just nervous.”

She lets out a small chuckle at you.

“Don' be, 'm sure that Toby boy will say 'yes'. And if he don' well you just come find me. I'll set him right.”

Ok now you were just confused.

“Huh?”

“Don' worry about it, he likes you jus' like you like 'im. It'll work out for you two.” she reaches over and ruffles your hair before jumping out of the pickup. You hadn't realized you were already at your destination.

And it was too late to correct Mama, she'd already made it inside the lodge, about why you were so nervous. The warmth in your face makes you even more grateful for your mask. Barclay was getting bit by the end of the night, the man really needed to get a boyfriend and stop trying to manifest one for you.

The door to the lodge opens again, you hardly paid it any mind. So lost in your own musing you didn't even notice the man walking towards you. Your goat plush had fallen beneath your seat and you were attempting to grab it but it was too far out of your reach.

“You good there?” Toby's amused voice calls, startling you.

Popping your head out of the opened car door. Heart racing faster at the sight of your friend standing there with a small smirk on his bandaged face. You weren't ready for this.

His eye looks better, well like a normal black eye and not a swollen lump that threatened to over take his socket. Now his eye looked like it could still function out of the slight opening. Fuck this was hard enough when you'd pictured only one eye looking at you but now you had to calculate for both!?

Is it weird that this is what worries you? Are you derailing from the actual situation? Distracting yourself so the conversation is easier on you. So you don't have to think about the possibility that Toby won't want to be friends after this. That he'll end up hating you for something you hadn't done.

God you really want to cry.

“Hey, space cadet.” Toby's made his way over to your side and puts a gentle hand on you knee, “You ok? Did something happen?”

He's really sweet, you're going to miss him.

No, stop. You need to get a grip and stop thinking like this. Toby will understand and you guys can continue being friends, a bit awkwardly but still friends. You'd get to hang out and maybe wander through the Monongahela together.

“I...I dropped my goat.”

He cocks his head to the side, brows slowly smoothing out and he gives a gentle squeeze to your legs as he reaches under you, hand searching for your lost plush.

The warmth that was once collecting in your cheeks shoots down past the void sitting in your stomach. Just another thing to add to your list you suppose. After a week of nearly no privacy or comfort you are thoroughly pent up. You don't necessarily want Toby, just need someone or something to help relieve the fire between your thighs. He just happens to be in proxcimity of that fire, poking the flame that hasn't been snuffed during your stay with the Cowells, making it dance and writhe reminding you of the need.

But you can't focus on that yet, you'd give yourself a hand when you finally got back home. Right now you needed to focus on Toby. And having that uncomfortable conversation.

“Here he is.” placing the goat in your lap he looks into your eyes, a slight glint in his.

He's in a really good mood tonight. You have to ignor the whispers in your head, telling you you're about to ruin this for him.

Luckily a tic to the right shoos those thoughts away for you.

“YN?” his hand is back on your knee, it's such a small gesture maybe even completely subconscious but it helps ground you.

You haven't read that file but you can't see Toby ever doing something awful enough to warrant Nate's barrage of paranoia and fear. Even if he did....he couldn't still be bad right? You're such a good judge of character and you called Brian on his masking there's no way you'd miss Toby lying to your face.

“I...” he's looking into your eyes searching as you take a steadying breath, “I just really need a slushie right now.” your eyes drop to the goat in your hands.

You fucking coward.

It's silent for a moment as you chastise yourself for not just coming out and telling Toby you wanted to talk. Toby's hand falls easily from your knee and to his side.

“A'right then, you good to drive?” you really missed your chance here, “'cuz Brian's got Connor tonight.”

Wait what?

You look at Toby who simply raises the right side of his mouth in a lopsided grin. A subtle raise of his right brow tells you he understood what you'd asked for. When was the last time anyone was ever able to read you so well?

“Yes!” you push the goat into Toby's chest and practically dive into the back seat for your bags. “I can drive. Franklin?”

“Don't work tomorrow, so sure.”

His good mood seems to pick back up a bit. He's chuckling as you rush to gather everything and head over to your car, barely shutting Mama's door as you do. Toby gives it a good bump with his hip to make sure it shut properly. He unlocks your car for you and slides into the passenger's seat while you arrange your shit in the trunk.

You catch sight of the skull still in your trunk and figure you'll just leave it as is for now. Since it seems that literally every time you close this trunk you forget it exists. Bye weirdly placed deer skull maybe one day you'll have a wall mount worthy of your beauty.

Before closing the trunk you do rab the file. Maybe having it up front with you will help you actually tell Toby about it.

When you open the driver's side Toby's hand is already outstretched and waiting for your phone, this isn't his first rodeo after all. You can't help but smile as you hand it right over to him. He notices, because of course he does, and beams back at you. Sending more warmth throughout your body. After collecting your emotions the guilt comes back around.

You need to stop being horny on main. And in front of Toby no less. It's weird, like you're riled up for him and not because you're attention starved and haven't known solitude for over a week.

By the time you're driving off the lot Toby had picked you 'Let's drive to nowhere' playlist. A perfect choice for tonight, seeing as these are all either songs to dissociate to or have mental break downs with. And with you obnoxious emotions either is up for grabs. Aside from the music the car was silent as you drove out of town.

You were so wrapped up in what to say to Toby, how to say it, when – that you ended up not saying anything at all. Toby on the other hand couldn't wait for you any longer and broke the silence himself.

A habit he seems to have, must not like silences.

“Normally you don't shut up,” the words were harsh but his tone wasn't for once.

He watches as the scenery changes from quaint country road to interstate. “Did something happen?”

An awkward anxious smile makes its way on to your face. You've never been good at schooling your features and smiling was unfortunately your default in the even of confrontation. It was probably just your brain's way of protecting you from emotional trauma.

“Sorta.”

To his credit Toby waits for three full songs before prying for more information.

“Another attack?” he's on edge.

To be fair you are too.

“No, like hell Jo and Nate wo-would let me leave if that were it.” your head jerks twice to the right. You miss Toby's wince.

Nate barely let you leave the shop today, you had to get outside assistance aka Mama.

“Ok, so what happened then?” as you bit your lip trying to find your words Toby is running through his own list of possibilities. “Dis Ma- Tim do something to you?”

Huh?

Why would Tim have anything to do with this? Are they still fighting? But Brian has Connor tonight...that doesn't seem likely but you've really only hung out with Toby thus far. You don't know enough about their group dynamic.

You also didn't miss the beginning syllable Toby said. Was he trying to say 'Matt', 'Mark', 'Manny'? There were so many names that Tim's alter could have but at the least you've more or less been told there is an alter to begin with.

But why would Toby be concerned about Tim's alter? Was he the one that punched Toby? Were they actually the two fighting and not Tim and Toby? This is confusing just being on the outside, you have no idea how the trio copes with this situation.

“Oh no, Tim and Not Tim have been nice to me.” if you're coming clean about the file might as well come clean about knowing Tim has an alter. This way Toby could pass along the message to Tim and Not Tim.

“Back up, not liter-mrrow – literally. 'Not Tim'? You've met Mas-Ma-Masky?!”

Masky? That's a strange name, but who were you to judge the name someone gave themself. Maybe he's a He/Him enby.

“Not like formally or anything, but I'm pretty sure he was the one that helped me and Ronnie out the other week.” you switch lanes to drive off of the interstate, hoping to find a secluded road to have this conversation on.

God knows it's going to take all of your concentration.

Toby was seething in his seat and you know the tension is only going to get worse going forward.

You can hear him muttering to himself, 'of course' or 'he didn't remember', over and over. Finding a good place to park the car you take it and turn to Toby, who's still lost in his own head.

“Tobias.” you call trying to jostle him and it works a little too well in a sense. As he blurts out, “Don't! Masky's dangerous stay away from him!”

He immediately freeze like he hadn't meant to say that. And while it wasn't a tic it was probably an impulse brought on by his anxious frame of mind. He's popping his knuckles again too.

You don't know why you said it, looking at Toby's wide blown pupils – riddled with fear and nerves, you should've kept you mouth shut.

“Dangerous like you?”

Or at least phrased that a bit more eloquently.

Toby's eyes grow dark and his good eye cuts low nearly matching it's swollen twin. A shiver runs down your spine even though you know the malice is not for you.

“What.” he hisses out.

It's not a question, it's an order. He wants to know what you know and maybe even who told you. Maybe he thinks Masky told you something, since that was the topic of the previous conversation.

Dark eyes watch you like a hawk as you pull the file from the map holder in your door. His chest is nearly heaving with every breath at this point, can he hyperventilate? That's a dumb question he most certainly can. And he's either on his way to that or a panic attack. You hope you don't send him into a panic attack, Connor's not here to help. Connor know pressure though, Toby's had him preform it on you during your spells. Would it work the same if you laid on top of Toby? You're getting too distracted right now.

Not trusting yourself to not just back down now, you hold the folder out to Toby to take.

He's just staring at it like it'll attack him at any moment, and honestly it might...just not physically. He glances up at you. There's a funny flash of deja vu likening back to the first time you met. Cold indifferent and confused eyes looking at you as though you were some strange alien they'd never seen before. This time however there's a spark of something else in them. Something dark that festers beneath the surface. Was that hatred, betrayal, or was that the wall he was building back up. The wall that would sever this friendship.

Stop projecting. He hasn't even taken the file, he can't possibly know what's going on right now.

“What's that?” see.

“Nate got super protective after the attack, I guess the other day you just like rubbed him the wrong way. So, he had someone look into you. That file is everything they found...pretty sure it's your whole life, I swear I haven't read anything. Not even a peek. But Jo and Nate tried to tell me the-”

He snatched the file from you before you'd even said you hadn't looked. He opened it and a second later it was closed and he took a shaky breath before looking at you.

It was your turn to look like a deer in headlights tonight, you knew that breath was one of barely concealed rage. This was it, this was where everything ended, all because Nate had “a bad feeling” about Toby.

But you trusted Toby, he wouldn't hurt you. He was your friend.

“So” he lets out a harsh sigh, “you didn't...you haven't read anything?”

You hastily shake your head, “What did they tell you.” he looks off to the side and his mouth is all screwed up, and not in it's normal mangled sense.

“That I shouldn't see you anymore, you did something bad, awful, terrifying; Nate's list goes on but I sort of...fo the fingers in the ear 'lalala' thing” you say sheepishly, “anytime he tries to tell me something. Jo stops when I ask him to. He's not too worried about you...I think.”

Or he's working behind the scene to keep you and Toby separated for the long run but that's speculation and not the point of this conversation so you don't mention it.

Toby's flipping through the file skimming it, no doubt looking for his checkered past, he finds what he's looking for and nods once continuing on like he was reading a grocery list. Which he may as well have been, a grocery list of all his transgressions. With the way his fingers gripped the edges of the folder you could tell he was putting on a front about the contents.

They did bother him.

“Why didn't you look, why didn't you listen YN?” was he seriously angry at you for that?

“It was an invasion of your privacy. Whatever's in there I wanted you to have the ability to tell me on your own terms – if you ever even wanted to. Not because you were forced into it because I found out from some third party that doesn't even know you.”

“Then why the fuck did you -wrong- practically jump into a car with me and then hand me a file on my shitty life!?!” He slammed the file down into his lap with a lot of force, more than he should have used for sure. “They think I'm a menace and they're right you shouldn't have...you need to...” he trails off looking like he's trying to disintegrate the file in front of him with latent laser eye abilities.

His arms are shaking.

No – he's trembling. The way he's biting his lip tips you off. He's trying to hold himself together, trying to stop himself from breaking. This can't be the same person Nate's so worried about.

“You're biting your lip, that's not good for you.”

“Fuck off.” it's half hearted at best, no real weight behind the words. And he does let his abused lip go.

“It's a breech of trust if I didn't tell you this...I wanted to give you the file because you should know it's been read by two people, to my knowledge.” you place a hand on his forearm, “Toby, I don't know what you've done in the past but...you know you aren't that person now, right?”

He's out of the car in an instant, slamming the door behind him. You follow, as dumb as you understand it is, getting out of your car in the middle of no where with a very unstable person.

“Get back in the car. I mrrow I can't...I need a minute.” his shaking is so much worse now that he's standing, It's even put a tremble in his voice.

“You're stupid if you think I'm leaving you alone in the middle of no where.” you stand your ground, he may need space but this is not the place to have it. You're only a few miles from town, you can get him back to the lodge where he doesn't have to see or be near you.

Hell you won't say a word on the way back.

“Like you're not stupid for ignoring the warnings that I'm dangerous! I've killed people! Did you know that?! Did you even think that's what was so bad!?” he's giving you the same glare he had on when he talked about the fight with Tim.

“I could literally kill you right now, you've driven us out to who knows where but still remained in walking distance back to town. You live on the outskirts of it and it'd be so easy for me to make you disappear and everyone would believe your stalkers got to you.” his chest heaves at a vicious rate.

Despite the venom and truth of his words, you can't find it in you to be scared of him. If anything his rant proves Toby must not have been mentally well during his crimes, he's acting like a cornered alley cat not a serial killer. There's a vice grip on you heart at the thought.

“Ok...are you?”

It's like a switch has been flipped in him and he calms instantly.

“What?” he knows what you're asking.

“Are you going to kill me?” you asked like you'd been asking what time it was.

He stares at you looking you up and down, “No...I wouldn't.” his neck jerks triggering your own tic.

“Then I'm safe.” you slowly approach him, much like you would a feral alley cat. “I trust you Tobias.” you reach out to tough his arm again.

It hadn't worked in the car but Toby does seem to calm down faster when he's being touched. Like the sensation brings him back to reality and locks him there.

“Y-you shouldn'n'n't.”

He doesn't pull away this time as you place your hands gently on his forearms. His eyes raise to meet yours.

“...I've killed.”

He sounds so helpless.

The only thing you find shocking about this is that he actually did it. You know people are capable of all sorts of vile things. But the way Toby's voice breaks, the tremors that run through his body. You can't see any similarity with the horror show you once imagined, a Toby covered head to toe in blood and a vicious grin.

The fact that Toby killed doesn't really phase you much more than the ever present 'how' that rings out. He must have had a reason. Jo wasn't too worried so maybe it was circumstantial. Not to mention Toby's among the general public. Could it have just been an accident? A misunderstanding?

“I don't – no I'm not going to say 'I don't care', because this is something that really effects you but I...I guess what I'm trying to get at is..it doesn't bother me. I know it should but, Tobias I just can't picture you as a murderer.” that blood stained Toby flashes before you singing 'liar', “I got to know you before finding out any of this. So, I know there must've been a reason behind it. And that's...and you don't have to tell me anything.”

Nothing more is said, after all you've said everything you could think of to deescalate the situation. And Toby is frozen as he stares at you. You'd have thought he was dissociating had it not been for the way his eyes still held that tiny reflection of light. He was still present, just unsure how to proceed.

Honestly you were stumped too, you had no idea how to begin this conversation let alone end it.

“My – there was...” you rub his arm in a small circular motion. You don't need to hear anything more, it already feels like too much information that he'd lost the agency for.

But your gentle shushing did nothing because he continued, “Clairse says I had a psychotic break and...just went after the biggest stressor at the time.” he pauses with a deep breath and closes his eyes in the process. “She says it wasn't really my fault, I was under...a lot of – I wasn't there, where I should've been mentally. My dad was abusive...anyone in my situation would've broken at some point.”

His words are hollow and robotic. A mantra he's learned to say although he doesn't believe it.

You'd normally give someone the choice but this time you just slip you arms over his shoulders and pull him into a hug. There's no resistance from him either, if anything he leans into the embrace and grips onto your back. His trembling doesn't stop but it's softened by the pressure.

“You don't have to tell me anything Tobes. I don't want you to...not if it's this painful.”

“I want – want to tell you about Lyra.” his voice cracks in tandem with his neck as he says her name.

And he does tell you, against all your protests to take his time. He tells you everything laid out his whole life right in front of you. From being home schooled early on – isolated within his own home for years, to his older sister and her untimely accident that he's still clearly wracked with guilt about, and then the spiral that ended in patricide and a fire that ate his entire neighborhood.

By the end of his recounting he'd stopped trembling and letting out the occasional sniffle – and now the two of you were leaning on the hood of your car. Looking at the stars that just started coming out for the night, you occasionally whispered affirmations to Toby as he tells more stories from his childhood. The good ones this time.

His spirits aren't as high as they were when you'd started your evening but they're much better than they were two hours ago.

You chuckle as he finishes telling you about the time he and Lyra managed to sneak out of the house for a concert only to realize they had no way of getting back into the house when they returned. Their mom just opened the door letting them inside with a small crease in her brow but the smile that played at her lips told them everything they'd needed to know. They weren't in trouble, she'd sent them off to bed and in the morning asked how the show was. From the way Toby talked about his mom you can tell he really loves her. The feeling must've been mutual, if she sent them off to bed instead of dishing out a punishment all because Toby had smiled for the first time in weeks that night.

“Ah, favorite child Toby strikes again.” you joke.

This time Toby didn't say anything, you had been throwing small jokes in to help keep the mood light, but he just looked at you with his head tilted. A grim expression barely crossed his features before being replaced with a lopsided smile and warm but sad eyes.

“Y'kn – Kyra used to say that all the time.”

“Must be true then.”

He looks at his hands with the softest expression you've ever seen. It's an expression normally given to Connor, just sadder this time.

You nudge him getting his attention back to the present.

“You still want that slushie?”

He takes a moment to look around you and finally rests his gaze on the stars. “Not Franlin, not tonight.” he says focusing back on to you.

“Think we're two exits from Riverton if that helps. They have Wawas.”

“Wawas?” he chuckles.

You nod, “Yea they have smoothies and milkshakes.”

“Ooh la la.”

You both snort and head back into the car. It's surreal to be buckling back in, joking around with Toby when just hours prior you thought you'd be ending your friendship the moment you opened your mouth.

You can't help but ask, “Are we cool?”

“Yea...we're good. 's not like you fucking asked for the information.” he leans his head against the window and crosses his arms into himself.

“I'm still sorry about it though.”

“Know you are. But it's over now.” the finality of that statement takes the weight off of your shoulders. For the first time in days you can breathe again.

“Thanks for telling me everything...you didn't have to. But I appreciate you sharing it with me.”

His nails dig into his arms, or they would have if they weren't chopped down to the bit.

“I mrrow I-I didn't tell you everything...”

Nope this was over and done with, no more sad and scared Toby. You couldn't handle anymore, guilt had found a friend in discomfrot and the two had set out to eat you alive with every tremor that tore through Toby's body.

“What are you like a child murderer or something?” Giving a laugh to soften the joke.

….

You missed the way Toby tenses and sucks in a breath. His heart is beating wildly in his chest, so hard he's certain you hear it. Is that where you draw the line? Child murder. Of course you had to have some boundaries he couldn't just expect you to be cool with everything he's done. You were sure to figure it out sooner or later no thanks to your boss. But Toby couldn't loose you now. Not when you've been an anchor he hasn't had in such a long time. He feels almost human again when he's with you.

He's been quiet too long, at least he thinks he has. He needs to say something, joke around back and dismiss the notion. You can't know not now – maybe not ever.

“I'm trans!” he hadn't meant to blurt that out.

He stared at you with wide eyes. Why had he said that, that hadn't even crossed his mind. Just as he was about to laugh it off you reached over and lightly punched him in the arm. That small gesture sent a tickle down Toby's spine. It was such an innocent touch, but he was touched starved and knew it.

“I am too goof. Thanks for telling me but why the wait?”

Fuck now he had to think of something. Talking to you always made him so brain dead.

“Mrrow...mrr-you saw me as a man first...I wanted to keep it that way.” maybe he didn't have to make something up, just tell you the half truth.

Brian had questioned him when they got ready for the picnic why he hadn't worn his trans tie dye shirt and he's said he misplaced it. A bold lie to tell someone like Brian, especially since it'd been a gift from his mom. She had sent it in a care package last June. He'd never loose something his mom gave him, at least not so quickly. If he'd been being honest with himself at the time, he was worried about your reaction. Of course he knew you were trans too so not like you'd be one to be a transphobe, but he didn't want you to stop seeing him as a man and only see him as trans.

“Toby, you are a man. Nothing short of you telling me otherwise will change that for me.”

Toby isn't sure when you grabbed his hand but he's aware of your hold when you start to rub along his knuckles. He watches your thumb circle jis joints and pressing a bit into the divots as he takes another deep breath.

He gives his best smile, a lopsided uncomfortable looking thing, “I don't think I like when you call me Toby.”

#A cure for insomnia #Timothy Wright #timothy wright x reader #timothy wright x brian thomas #masky x reader #ticcitoby #ticci toby #ticci tobyx reader #ticci toby x reader #brian thomas x reader #Brian Thomas #masky #creepypasta fanfic

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amindofstone · 3 years

Text

A pirates treasure

a/n: I am in love with a broken character. I am in love with a man that has “death” tattooed on his fingers. I am in love with a freaking 2D character that has the name “Surgeon of death”. Call me crazy but hey, the owner of a heart was never able to choose in who it falls in love. Yeah, to put it short I am in love with a character that barely has any romantic, lovely or sweet traits but still gets me screaming at 2 am whenever he appears. I am in love with Trafalgar D. Water Law.

a/n edited: My attention was drawn to a huge mistake of mine. I really don't want to justify my mistake and just delete it as if nothing happened. So therefore I'll do a quick explanation.

As you can see I used the picture above as a "cover" for my imagine without making any researches about the artist of the amazing work. I got the picture send by a friend with the request if I could use it and so I did without thinking twice. I should have done my job properly by finding the artist and asking for permission but I didn't and simply neglected that. And I'm truly and really sorry for that and genuinely apologise from the bottom of my heart. I hope I'll be forgiven. The picture used was that of the artist @666deaddash999 that has a blog here on tumblr and definitely should be seen. And again my apologies.

a/n edited pt. 3.: I am in f***ing tears. I don´t deserve this much kindness. This artist, the dear @666deaddash999 , is truely an angel. I really am garteful for being allowed to use it. Like damn they even liked my fic!!! I am in tears and emotional AF!! Anyways have a nice day and thank you for reading my work!

Genre: anime imagine? One Piece imagine?

Character(s): Trafalgar D. Water Law x Rose (reader)

Warnings: Maybe grammar or spelling mistakes. (I genuinely apologize. English is not my mother tongue and I´m really trying to improve. So please be so kind and have mercy)

Words: 4257

Info: Keep in mind that the words in italic are Rose (reader) train of thoughts.

!!! Please do not steal my idea or work. Credit me if this is shared or published in any other platform or any other way. This took me a lot of time. So please respect me as the writer and my work. Picture used is not mine. Credits to the rightful owner. !!!

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"Are you insane?! Can you hear what you're saying right now?! No! Do you know what you're saying right now?!", asked the now furious woman. "She lost her mind Marcus. Your daughter lost her brain on the way back home!!", the woman with the probably most expensive tiara on her head was running around the salon while making sure her husband understood her point in their daughters failure. "For the sake of sanity Marcus say something!!! Won't you?!", the woman yelled at her husband who was sitting on his chair in front of the chimney. “I regret the day I gave birth to you? I regret those nine months I carried you. I did not give birth to you so you can end up like this! This is not what we taught you!”. The king was clearly overwhelmed by the whole situation that had to happen two weeks before the king and his spouse from the neighboring island would come. Right at the moment in which he and his wife decided to make their daughter marry their son. The king who usually was always in a good mood and had a smile on his lips was now the total opposite. He was sad and felt lost. He didn't know how to cope with the situation his wife; or rather life confronted him with.

With a hand covering half of his face and closed eyes he focused on his breathing and just let his spouse calm down first before he spoke what was on his mind. He kept telling himself to breathe in and breath out when the queen’s next words made him stand up and leave the room.

"You traitor! How dare you sit there like you're the victim, you disgrace! You disgusting piece of shit! Where did you leave you honor and pride?! In the bed of that scum?!", the words of the mad woman made the young royal look up for the first time she entered the salon. The princess, the third daughter of one of the most powerful kingdoms, was in tears. A hand covering her mouth with the hope to keep her screams of pain inside she just let the tears stream down her face. “Look what you did you cheap piece of shit. I am disappointed in you. No wonder I never was fond of you and your existence. You are absolutely not capable of anything in this world. And Marcus calls something like you his beloved daughter. Get out and get back to your chambers. I don´t want to see you out of your quarter before the royal family whose son you´ll be marrying will come. You heard me! And I dare you to start another tantrum about the marriage or else I make you regret existing.”, Rose nodded and left the salon without a word.

On her way back to her quarter her brother, the crown prince, saw her and wanted to stop her and ask what their mother said, but she didn´t let him touch her or talk to her. He wanted to hold her and comfort her since he knew how their mother can hurt one with her words but she didn´t let him come closer. She silently left him behind and ran to her save place so she could cry out loud with the hope of getting rid of the pain in her chest. She cried and cried until her maid came with her dinner. The maid tried her best to make the young princess stop crying and eat something but she couldn´t make it. When the food she brought her got cold she tried to at least make her calm down but to no avail. Before the sad maid left the princess alone she took the food she brought her and asked her with pleading eyes if she could do anything for her. The maid thought that she won´t answer her while still shedding tears when the princess who was sitting on her bed looked her in the eye for the first time since she entered her chambers. The maid gave her a genuine and friendly smile while telling her that she´ll do anything for her. But the words of the princess made her stop smiling while the little spark of hope died down. “Kill me and put this miserable life of mine to an end.”, the maid did not know what to say so she left her chambers with a soft apology and a deep bow.

Silence.

Suffocating silence took over her chambers after a while when no sound of her could be heard anymore. Her throat was sore from the hurt screams that left her. Screams she tried to suppress with a pillow or her hand. Screams she held in for weeks. If her throat wouldn´t be hurting by now and if she had just a bit more energy she would be screaming more. She would be screaming from the top of her lungs while trying to get rid of the pain in her chest that seems to be clinching onto her for dear life. Her heart was aching. Her soul was helplessly trying to understand what was happening right now while her brain stopped functioning. She was lifeless. She looked like a corpse sitting on a bed. She didn´t move an inch or dared to breathe aloud. When someone would have entered her chambers they would have thought a doll was sitting on the massive bed and not the princess. The princess the whole kingdom loved for her genuine smile and friendliness. A princess that was loved by ever person that saw her because of the kindness she holds in her heart and eyes.

The princess. A young lady whose beauty was known all over the world. Whose kindness anyone knew and mentioned. A young royal with a genuine heart, a heart as pure as that of an angel. A young royal in the age of 19 that was able to make any person walk over broken glass if they could make her smile. But what happened to her? A young lady who used to walk around the kingdom with a smile upon her lips and a childlike playfulness. What happened to the girl that used to be the happiness of any person in the palest and the kingdom?

Rose, never thought that the day would come she needed to be told how beautiful life can be. She never thought that the day would come where her siblings and maids would have to come and tell her that life is full of love and happiness

Isn´t it funny how fast a person can change? How fast the happiness of a person can be taken away from them. Isn´t it funny how something that is supposed to be good can break a person and ruin their whole life? How can something that she was always told about as the most beautiful and powerful thing on earth break her and be the cause of her pain. Why does it carry so much pain and tears when it´s supposed to be the reason a human lives? This doesn´t seem logical to her. It seems like all the things she was told were lies. Lies and lies told one after another. Why did they lie to me?

Rose was freezing. The dress she was wearing at the moment was obviously not able to keep her warm anymore. She needed to change. She needed to take a bath. But she had neither energy nor motivation to do anything so she kept sitting there while looking out of her huge window. Her window was wide open and let the fresh but cold wind of the spring night enter her save place. Her curtains were waving more and more due to the slowly stronger getting wind. Just when she thought that she calmed down a bit, she suddenly started to remember the words of her mother. Words that were sharper than any knife or sword. Words that cut her heart into pieces. Disgrace, she said. Disappointment, she said. She regrets giving me live, she said. And again tears fell down her cheeks. Tears filled by pure hate towards herself. She hated herself. She hated her body and wanted to die. The couple that used to shower her with love now hated her. Slowly more tears started to stream down her face while she tried to muffle down her soft sobs by putting a hand over her mouth. The cold wind that entered her chambers through her open window and door to her terrace stopped by now only to be replaced by rain. It seems like the sky was the only one that understood her pain and cried with her out of empathy. Day, weeks and now months passed and a forbidden longing accompanied her through her lonely days filled with regret. I wish I never went to the harbor with my maid. I wish I could erase that day from my life and memories.

When she thought that the pain she felt couldn´t get worse a person called her name with so much love it hurt her. She was confused and scared at the same time. With panic written all over her face she looked around her chambers only to be greeted by a tall man who entered her bedroom through her terrace. Slow steps were made as if he knew that she´d be overwhelmed by his sudden presence. She couldn´t see his face but knew that he was looking straight into her eyes. Just when he was about to enter her bedroom he stopped at the door of her terrace and allowed her to hear his voice. A voice that was able to get her weak and lose balance and fall on her knees. But luckily she was now sitting on her bed in the same position since a few hours now. “May I enter?”

A soft whine erupted her sore throat, while her heart started to race. As if she ran from one side of the island to the other. She couldn´t believe her eyes. She wanted to scream his name and jump in his arms. She wanted to kiss his face, hands and shower him with all the love she felt for him but she didn´t move but gave him a small nod that allowed him to enter. Am I imagining this?

His hat he seemed to love so much and that turned into his signature got recognized by the heartbroken princess next to his sword that accompanied him through every fight and battle. But his clothes changed into something she thought he would never wear. It changed into something elegant but at the same time simple. A black long cloak was loosely hanging over his shoulder that was decorated at its collar with a thick pitch black fur. Under the cloak she could make out a white wide loose shirt that gave away a beautiful sight of his toned and tattooed chest. He looked like a sculpture that was awakened to life. She couldn´t believe what she was seeing. She was staring at his face, his hands, his slightly wetted clothes with the hope that her eyes were playing a stupid game with her heart. She couldn´t look away while all this time he was slowly coming closer to her and the bed she was sitting on. Just when she realized who was standing in her chambers she quickly tried her best to pull herself together and speak in a half decent steady voice but sadly to no avail. “Don´t come closer and get back to the place you came from.”

She tried. She tried her best to talk in a convincing and steady voice but she failed, miserably. Her trembling voice and body betrayed her. Her hands that were holding tight onto her sheets betrayed her. Her knuckles that turned white from the pressure she put on them betrayed her. But most of all it were her eyes and tears that betrayed her. Her whole body screamed to be touched by him. Her hands longed for his warmth. Her heart screamed to be consoled and her eyes gave away all of the love she had for him. She shouldn´t be able to cry anymore thinking about the whole day she only cried but unlike a few minutes ago she was now shedding tears of pure joy. “Are you sure that you want me to leave?”, the man in front of her asked her to not only convince himself that this is what she wanted but also to give her the chance to rethink her choice, but the black haired woman nodded what she instantly regretted.

Regret. What a simple word to use when it hold so much emotions and thoughts.

The moment she saw him make a step back and put a distance between him and her, a quiet pleading to not leave her left her lips that made him instantly drop his sword. The sudden sound of his falling weapon surprised her and made her look down to the place it fell. She wanted to ask if he was doing fine when the next move of the man that ruined her life shook her to death. Everything happened in the blink of an eye. He took of his hat and threw it somewhere she couldn´t make out only to get on her bed and connect their lips. She didn´t wanted him to kiss her. She didn´t wanted him this close but still grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer. Rose´s hands were trembling while her tears still didn´t stop falling. It felt like a dream, a dream come true when she remembered her mother’s words and pushed him away from her.

Trafalgar D. Water Law.

What or who gave you the permission to enter my live and turn it upside down. The tears that were falling down her cheeks were that of pure happiness to have him in front of her but slowly with her mother´s words coming back to her mind they slowly turned into tears of pain and fear. Law wanted more. He wanted to kiss her more and hold her. He wanted her all to himself. He took her hands, that were still holding onto his shirt, in his and kissed each and every finger of her one by one. “She´ll kill you.”, she said with a quivering voice with the hope to make him understand in what kind of situation they were but he didn´t care at all. “She said she´ll execute you in front our nation.”, but still the pirate didn´t care. In fact he intertwined their hands and started to kiss her all over her face. “She called you so many names and said that she´ll kill any person you are close to right after she killed you. Law are you listening.”, she kept telling him what her mother the queen said but her lover didn´t seem to care. But to make clear that he indeed was listening to her he nodded and hummed in her ear before he made his way to her neck. But before he could place his lips on her skin again she said something what made him stop in his tracks. “I´m getting engaged in two weeks and married next month.”, just when she thought that he´ll get made and push her away she heard a soft chuckle before he laid her down and get back to kissing her while making sure to leave marks here and there. She felt pathetic. She felt horrible. She felt like agreeing to her mother’s words that she is not worth being a royal or a princess. “Law, don´t you understand in what situation I am right now? I feel like I´m a joke to y….”.

“Am I a joke to you? Are my feelings a joke to you?”, Law stopped her midsentence just to leave her with a question that made her rethink all the thoughts she had in the last weeks. But she had no time to think because the man on top of her stood up and left her bed. Panic overcame her and she started to breath quickly. “Please don´t leave me. I beg you Law. I don´t know what to do without you. Please!”

If the princess could see the man’s face at this moment she would have seen his genuine smile of pure happiness and relief. “Who said I wanted to leave you?”, said the tall man and made his way towards her door just to lock it. No matter where he went Rose followed all of his steps around her chambers. He closed the window and the door to her terrace while also making sure to close the curtains. If her maid did not came to light the candelas on her nightstand it would have been pitch black and she wouldn´t be able to see what the pirate who sneaked into the palace would do right now. He took of his shoes and placed them neatly next to the armchair in front of her chimney. Slow and carefully he took of his slightly wet cloak and put it over the backrest to dry. While she wondered if he wasn´t cold with what he was wearing she realized a bit too late that he took his shirt off and went to light up some other candelas in her room while giving her a full display of his tattoos. How on earth could someone as beautiful as him fall for me? What happened that made him love me to an extend he came all the way to the palace to me? Do I deserve this much love? Rose was looking down to her hands that lay on her lap when she felt the bed shift. She didn´t dare to look him in the eyes. She felt cheap and used. How can I marry a man that I don´t love? How can I get married while fully knowing that I gave away the most precious thing I had to a pirate that told me he loved me? I am being the naive and stupid woman my mother called me. “Do you regret losing you virginity to me?”, the sudden question of the criminal she fell in love with surprised her and made her look up to him with widen eyes. “Do you regret letting me be your first kiss? Do you regret letting me lay in your arms?”, Law took her hands back in his to intertwine them again. An act he does without realizing it by now. He was used to place her hand in is. He wanted it and needed it. He wanted to feel her and her warmth. He needed a reassurance that she really was sitting in front of him. He needed something that made clear to him that he wasn´t dreaming and really was beside her and not in his or the strawhats ship sleeping.

“Do you want to marry him? Are you fine with your parents marring you off to someone you don´t love neither know?”, the princess was overwhelmed not only by his question but also by his eyes which were filled by sadness. His grey eyes that usually had something playful and fierce in it. His eyes that used to always soften whenever the landed on her who was his lover, his woman, his absolute everything. The princess placed her hands on his face and caressed his cheeks. If only she knew what that little gesture did to him. If only she knew how much control she had over him. If only. “Trafalgar Law. I gave you everything I had. I let you be my first love and my first lover. I let you be my first kiss and my first time not for you to ask me if I regretted it. Law I love you. Although my miserable live won´t allow me to be with you I can assure you that I would throw everything away only to be with you.”, Laws eyes were closed. He couldn’t think properly anymore. His heart was racing. His mind was an absolute mess. He wanted her close to him. He wanted to feel her. He needed her so he sat her down on his lap and leaned back. With his head resting on the headboard of her bed and the royal lady on top of him he tried to calm his heart down and make it stop racing. “If I wouldn´t be a doctor I would have thought I was about to die whenever I had you near me.”, the young princess looked at him with concern in her eyes. “At that time I couldn´t understand why my heart was racing or why I felt like I was getting crushed. There was always this feeling of something or someone putting a huge amount of pressure on my chest whenever I thought about you. And whenever I had you close to me I felt like I was drowning and losing all my powers. But now I know that it´s alright to feel like this because this is how it´s supposed to be. Because today I know that it´s because I love you.”, Law was not someone that spoke out loud about his feelings. He wasn´t the type of person who shared his thoughts but when he did he was able to blow any person away. The words of her lover made her heart race while guilt over came her. “Stop. Please stop.”, begged Rose while hiding her face in the crock of his neck. She knew that she was hurting him by telling him to stop. She knew that she wasn´t supposed to react like this but what could she do, she was promised to a prince of a neighbor island. She shouldn´t be kissing him or hugging him. She shouldn´t be laying in his arms while he told her how much she meant to him. She should be sending him away like a worthy daughter and princess should do.

“Do you want me to leave. If so than just tell me and I will leave you alone tonight. I really don´t have a problem with that. I can´t bear seeing you sad, my love. I will come tomorrow. Would you like that?”, hearing his words made her look up and see his face to make sure he wasn´t playing with her but no, he was serious. He was smiling down to her while caressing her cheek. The look he gave her broke her heart. She knew he loved her. No matter how many times she told herself that she meant nothing to him her heart told her different. “This is not how it works, Law! You are such a fool. You idiot! I just told you that I´m promised to a prince and here you are telling me that you will come tomorrow if I don´t feel well. What is wrong with you?”, tears were falling down her cheeks. Thinking about the amount of tears she just shed today makes one wonder how she is still possible to cry more. Rose hit him a few times on his chest before she left his lap and sat down next to him. She couldn´t bear being this close to him so she tried putting some distance between him and her when Law laid her down and hovered above her.

“Tell me what is wrong with you? Do you really think I let your parents take you away from me? Do you really think I let some random bastard marry my woman? I am a pirate Rose. If I want something I get it and when I have it I won´t give it back. Do you understand?”, Law spoke in a soft tone but one full of power and determination. Rose didn´t know what to say so she simply kept quiet and kept listening to him. “You are mine. My treasure. My property, You are mine all alone and I don´t share what is mine. And if anyone is so foolish to try to take what is mine I won´t hesitate to cut off their heart.”, the dreaded pirate spoke in his calm but deep voice and made the woman underneath him stare at him without daring to move an inch. “Now tell me do you really thing I let you get married to anyone that is not me?”, Rose was numb. She was awestruck and speechless so Law took the matter in his own hands and took her face in his hands and shook her head in a playful manner. He knew that his words took her by surprise what could he do? It was her guilt that he was head over heel in love with her. “No, my darling. I won´t let go of you. Just wait a few more days and wait for me. I have a little plan to get you out of her.”, the last words the pirate spoke made her widen her eyes. Law indeed loved the effect he had on her. The princess wanted to say something but the pirate didn´t allow her to speak up. He placed a short kiss on her lips before he slowly started to unbutten her dress. “Law?!”

“You can´t imagine how much I missed you. Please allow me to show you how much you mean to me, my dear. Hold me and show me that your presence is not a dream. Please allow me to love you.”

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blitzturtles · 3 years

Text

Title: Get What You Need (Ao3)

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Vento Aureo

Pairing(s): GioMis or Giorno & Mista (Platonic or Pre-Relationship)

Summary: “All of them,” Giorno breathes the words in a near rush of panic. His stomach turns at merely hearing the list. His resolve crumbles in an instant, and it’s only worsened when he makes the mistake of looking down at his hands, clasped together in his lap. He picks idly at the cuticle of one thumb with the nail of the other in a desperate attempt to keep himself calm. The more worked up he gets, the worse the cramps are, and they’re already rolling through him too often to be ignored.

Notes: Trigger Warnings: Dysphoria; Gio experiences quite a bit of it, and it's not very nice.

Guess who had a period from hell.

Trigger Warnings: Gender dysphoria! Giorno struggles with it quite a bit throughout the fic.

1. Bucci's also trans, 2. Polnareff is alive (so is everyone else for that matter.), and 3. Bruno being trans is not a secret/Mista isn't actually outing him here.

“I would like to rearrange a few meetings,” Giorno says, choosing his words carefully, so he can gauge Polnareff’s reaction.

Without missing a beat, Polnareff answers, “Of course. Which were you interested in moving? There’s the two after lunch, the one with Dura at three, and Abba-”

“All of them,” Giorno breathes the words in a near rush of panic. His stomach turns at merely hearing the list. His resolve crumbles in an instant, and it’s only worsened when he makes the mistake of looking down at his hands, clasped together in his lap. He picks idly at the cuticle of one thumb with the nail of the other in a desperate attempt to keep himself calm. The more worked up he gets, the worse the cramps are, and they’re already rolling through him too often to be ignored.

Polnareff looks momentarily surprised, but he schools his expression quickly and reaches underneath his chair to where he keeps a notebook safely tucked away. He pulls his pen from the spiral binding and looks to Giorno with sheer determination.

“Any-- preferences? On when I reschedule these to?”

“Two or three days from now at the earliest,” Giorno knows it’s risky. A bad idea at best and a great way to destroy several very fragile relationships at worst, but he’s reaching a breaking point. His eyes are already burning, and he can’t ignore the hopeless feeling gripping him any more than he can ignore the way blood continues to fill the pad he’s wearing. He’s too hyper-aware of both, and there’s nothing worse than showing weakness in front of a pack of dogs, most of whom were raised by the streets in some form or fashion. With the exception, of course, of the nepotistic sort, though Giorno doesn’t generally think much of them. They’re certainly not the threat that the others can be when left unchecked.

Polnareff, to his credit, only nods and makes a note of the request. He pauses a moment, clearly chewing something over in his mind, and it’s likely only their close relationship that allows him to ask, “Are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” which is a non-answer, but it’s the best Polnareff is getting from him when he feels like this: weak, vulnerable. Disgusting. Wrong. If he could tear the skin off his body, he would.

Polnareff nods again. There’s a lingering look in his good eye that Giorno thinks might be concern. Possibly displeasure at being blatantly left in the dark when it’s Polnareff’s job to be as informed as possible, though the man says nothing of it and simply wishes Giorno well before departing from the office altogether. He uses Chariot to open the door for him and wheels away without any actual protest.

It’s all Giorno can do to hold his breath until the moment the door clicks shut, and he deflates immediately over the edge of his desk. He slumps forward on the wood and tries hard to bite back the quiet, senseless sobs that bubble up in his chest. It’s ridiculous. The whole thing is ridiculous. He should be able to handle this, even if it has been awhile. He can’t fall apart the moment his period decides to rear its ugly head as one of the worst reminders of what he isn’t. What he fails to be. Yet here he is, crying over his desk like a child, though his sobs are silent. Even now, years later, he hasn’t shaken that habit.

______

Mista startles out of his light doze thanks to a text. He flails about uselessly, arms smacking into the side door of the car before he remembers where he is (and who he’s with, if the short-tempered, “Watch it!”, is anything to go by). It takes him another moment to figure out where he left his phone, and it’s only because of Five that he finds it at all.

“Thanks, buddy,” he says as he pulls the screen up for the last message he received. He blinks in surprise at the body of the first text.

Meetings are canceled.

Under any other circumstance, Mista would be hooping and hollering in delight. Meetings being canceled means that Mista doesn’t have to stand around pointlessly for hours while some morons try to talk circles around Giorno of all people, but there’s a gnawing worry that grows in his gut. Giorno doesn’t cancel meetings unless he’s physically unable to be there. Usually when a mission has carried over and kept them from home for too long. The next text does little to quail his anxiety.

You should check in on him anyway.

Mista doesn’t need to be told who ‘him’ is, and he doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s already planning on it once they get back to the mansion.

______

Giorno extracts himself from his desk after a few more minutes of self-pity. There’s only so much of it he can stand at any given time. More importantly, he doesn’t want anyone to happen by before he has a chance to compose himself, which is exactly what he does. He pulls a small mirror from his desk and grimaces at the red, puffy eyes that look back at him.

He’s part way through fixing his hair when another cramp hits. Sharp and agonizing with the way it pierces through his middle and spreads outwards, toward his hips. He doubles over with his arms hugging around his middle. It’s instinct more than anything. God knows it doesn’t help alleviate the pain any.

It takes him a solid sixty seconds before he can work up the courage to unravel. He half expects the next wave to roll through him the moment he does, but there’s a blessed lack of follow up. For the time being. He doesn’t expect that to last. It never does.

His chest aches with the effort that it takes to keep his breathing even. The binder isn’t helping, but he’s not about to try to wiggle out of it in his office. His only option is to get himself up and back to his bedroom, but that sounds like a momentous task on it’s own. Somehow he has to get there without being brought to his knees by cramps or hit with another wave of despair or-- well, being perceived at all. One look at his face will give him away. Maybe they won’t know why, but they’ll know that something is wrong, and that’s bad enough.

He finally manages to get his hair to a presentable level again when someone knocks on the door to his office, and his heart drops down to his stomach. He glances back at the mirror one more time before shoving it in his desk. His eyes are definitely still puffy, though some of the redness has dissipated.

“Giorno?” Mista asks, poking the door open slightly when Giorno doesn’t immediately respond. It’s only then that Giorno realizes that his voice is caught in his throat, and he gets a second, far more concerned call of his name for his hesitance.

“I’m fine,” he says quickly. Too quickly. Mista might not read people as well as Bucciarati, but he’s still acutely aware of certain details (the ones that matter! Mista’s voice echoes in his head.)

“Uh,” Mista starts, a little lamely, but he quickly shakes off any reserves he has about being direct if his next words are anything to go by, “No offense, but you look like shit, so I’m pretty sure you’re not. Actually.”

Giorno falters slightly. He should have texted Mista after Polnareff left. Should have explained the situation in the vaguest possible terms. And definitely should have come up with an excuse. But he had done none of those things, and now he’s stuck with the repercussions of his own actions. Or inactions.

“It’s not important,” he tries. Pathetic as it is.

“You canceled all your meetings for today,” and Giorno supposes he set himself up for that. He hasn’t come up with an excuse yet, especially not one that adequately explains away his behavior.

Silence stretches between them. Giorno for lack of an answer, and Mista because he seems to expect Giorno to cave. To the Don’s great horror, he does just that.

“It really isn’t that big of a deal. I’m just--” only, before he can finish speaking, another cramp grabs hold and twists mercilessly until he’s gasping and leaning forward with both hands clenching at the edge of his desk. He closes his eyes, as if to shut out the pain, or possibly the reality of the situation as it registers in the back of his mind.

“Giorno!” Mista calls, loud and panicked. He lunges forward to close the gap between them, though he hesitates once he’s within touching distance. “Giorno?”

“I’m fine, just-- cramps,” Giorno confesses, grinding his teeth together as the next one rips through him. Equally as painful as the last and as impossible to ignore. He feels his cheeks burn the way his eyes are once again, and all he wants is to crawl under his desk and hide away from the world. It’s not often that he wishes he could be nobody again, but now is certainly one of those times.

“Cramps?” Mista asks with confusion evident in his voice, but then his eyes go wide. He scans Giorno over, as if that might give him the affirmative he needs. “Like Bucci’s?”

Giorno doesn’t actually know what that means, but he nods anyway. Close enough, and it means he doesn’t have to explain anything else.

“Okay, okay, shit--!” Mista sounds a bit more panicked now. More like how Giorno feels being flayed open like this in front of one of the people he actually cares about. Whose opinion actually means something to him. “God, he hasn’t had them in so long. Fuck, uh? Heat. Oh, and we should probably get you into something more comfortable. Have you taken anything?”

What?

Giorno’s mind skips and stutters into a complete stall. He’s not sure what Bucciarati has to do with anything, but he’s suddenly sure that the answer is more closely linked than he had originally thought.

“Gio?”

“Yes,” Giorno grinds out, because he did, though he’s nearing the end of the four hour period before he can take the next dose, and he’s tempted to swallow as much as he can fit into his fist. The damage is something he can deal with later. With his Stand, but he knows it won’t help. The efficacy of such medication is limited, but it hurts. It hurts, and he’s just outed himself to one of his closest friends with no warning. No preparation. Anxiety works its way up his throat, and he thinks, for a moment, that he might be sick.

“C’mon, let’s get you out of here,” Mista says, bringing Giorno back out of his thoughts and back into reality. He tugs gently at Giorno’s upper arm.

Giorno lets himself be pulled up to his feet with a sort of numbness spreading through him. For all the panic that’s coursing through his veins, there is one, lucid thought: Mista isn’t upset. He’s taken the news and simply rolled with it like it means nothing. Like it doesn’t change anything, and Giorno doesn’t know how to handle that, so he just lets himself be pulled along. Out from behind his desk and toward the office entrance.

From there it’s a long, impossible trek to Giorno’s bedroom. One that requires breaks for the cramps that won’t let him off so easily. For a moment, he wishes it were a bullet tearing apart his insides. That, at least, he could do something about, but cramps are something else entirely. Using GE won’t get him anywhere. In fact, he’s pretty sure it’s made it worse in the past, when he’s tried out of pure desperation.

“I’m going to go grab a heating pad,” Mista starts once they reach Giorno’s bedroom, “You should get changed into something less-- tight. Got any stretchy pants?”

“My pajamas,” Giorno answers, more because it seems expected of him than because he’s actually paying attention.

“Perfect! I’ll be back in a minute.”

Giorno’s left standing there, a bit lost for what to do with himself, but the next shock of pain comes and fresh tears burn at the corners of his eyes, reminding him of the fact that he really doesn’t want to be in the middle of the hall, visibly crying for all to see. There’s a logical part of him that knows he wouldn’t be judged for it, but there’s a much louder part that reminds him that crying has never gotten him anywhere in life other than alone and miserable.

He turns the knob on his door and pushes it open after the agony subsides enough to allow him to move again. The first thing he does upon entering his room is seek out the pill bottle from earlier. A few minutes won’t make a difference, and he’s rapidly approaching the end of his rope. He can’t handle the pain on top of everything else.

Changing is a whole other problem. One that he hadn’t thought of as a problem until he’s standing there with his sleep clothes in hand and staring down at himself, realizing he’ll have to undress in order to redress (and is it really worth the effort? Worth seeing himself and his hips and his chest and--).

He peels out of his suit despite himself. He doesn’t want Mista to come back and push the subject. Then there’s the risk that Mista might not leave, which means Giorno will have to deal with an audience on top of having to suffer through his own self-hatred.

The binder stays on. Regardless of how uncomfortable and hot and painful he already is. He can’t handle the idea of taking it off right now, so he suffers for the little bit of mental peace that it brings him. The flattened chest makes up for the curve of his hips, though he finds himself flattening his hands over his waist anyway. Unable to stop himself from picking at every flaw when he’s already hormonal and all around having one of the worst days he’s had in awhile.

The knock at his door startles him into action, and he finishes getting dressed with a quick, “Hold on!”

A moment later has him opening the door to Mista’s grinning face.

“Found it,” Mista says as he holds up the box with a product image on it. Giorno doesn’t get a chance to observe more than the fact that it’s maroon before Mista drops it back down to his side and nods toward Giorno’s room.

Giorno steps out of the way to allow his (technically uninvited) guest in. Mista’s rambling on about something. Giorno isn’t sure what, though he catches ‘Bucciarati’ and ‘Trish’ in there somewhere, and there’s something about Abbacchio being unhelpful and half a dozen other things that fall on deaf ears.

“Oh, and you got changed, good,” Mista finishes with another one of his goofy smiles. The corners of his eyes pull oddly, giving away something else that he’s trying to hide under all the babbling and warmth. Worry persists, despite knowing the truth. Giorno can’t understand why. Cramps aren’t that big of a deal; even if he’s made them out to be in his own head.

“Yeah, it’s helping a little, thanks,” Giorno says when Mista looks at him with some sort of expectation in his eyes. Giorno’s usually better at reading people than this, but he feels like he’s moving in water. Too slow and with too much drag. He can’t keep up with the world around him, and it’s all overwhelming pressure and not enough time. Time to process, time to breathe. He loops back around to the fact that he came out to someone on the Team no more than ten minutes ago, yet Mista is unflinching and unconcerned. He hasn’t brought it back up, since he learned about it, in fact. Hell, he’s acting like all of this is completely normal, despite Giorno being almost completely certain that Mista is cis.

“Earth to Giorno,” Mista calls, voice soft with that same worry now seeping into his tone.

“Sorry,” Giorno says quickly, “I was--”

“Off in lala land?”

“Something like that,” though he thinks that sounds substantially more pleasant than all the thoughts racing through his mind.

Mista watches him for a long, uncomfortable moment. It’s times like these where Giorno gets reminded of just how much Mista likes to play dumb, when he’s anything but. He might not have the book smarts that Fugo has, but Mista is brilliant in so many other ways. Ways that are working against Giorno right now.

“You know, if you want to talk about it…”

“I-” Giorno cuts off and groans. He quickly takes a seat on the edge of his bed and sticks his head down between his knees, folding himself in half in an attempt to apply enough pressure to alleviate some of the pain.

“Oh, shit, here,” Mista moves to find an outlet and digs out the heating pad from its box. He hooks it up quickly and hands it to Giorno. The fabric of its exterior is surprisingly soft in Giorno’s hands, and he’s quick to tuck it between his abdomen and his thighs.

“Thank you,” he breathes out after several seconds pass and heat finally starts to spread across the pad.

“No problem,” Mista says quietly. More subdued than he typically is. He moves to sit on the bed beside Giorno and places a hesitant hand on his back, where he rubs gentle circles until he can feel some of the tension ease out of his Don’s muscles.

It’s quiet for a long while. Giorno basks in the relief the pad and pain killers offer. It’s the first time in over an hour that he’s been able to simply breathe through the worst of the cramps each time they hit. Though his chest continues to ache, the change is nonetheless a welcomed one. The sensation of heat spreading across his abdomen is enough of a distraction to keep him out of his own head. For a short while, at least.

“Earlier, you said something about Bucciarati,” Giorno starts, nervous and unsure of how to broach the topic.

“Oh yeah, Bucci used to get cramps real bad, too,” Mista says without hesitation. Without any hint whatsoever that he finds what he’s said to be unusual.

“Is he--?”

“Oh, shit,” Mista’s hand stills on his back, and Giorno gnaws suddenly at his lip, afraid he’s somehow messed with something he shouldn’t have. “Uh, technically that’s probably not my place to say? But he’s not exactly hiding it, Gio. He’s got scars and everything.”

Scars? Oh.

Oh.

Giorno feels his face flush, this time out of a different sort of embarrassment. Sure, he had seen the scars before, but they were light. Old and well healed, probably through the help of Sticky Fingers, and it’s not as though Bucciarati isn’t covered in dozens of others. Most of them silver from age, but there all the same. It had never once occurred to Giorno that the two on his chest, which peek out just a bit underneath the classic lingerie that Bucciarati always wears, are anything purposeful.

“I didn’t realize,” Giorno admits after a moment, when that little fact is probably very obvious and unnecessarily verbalized, but he doesn’t know what else to say to fill the silence. His own head is much louder. Full of racing thoughts and flashes of memories.

“Maybe you should talk to him about it sometime?” Particularly in moments like these; Mista spares his emotions by keeping that part to himself, but Giorno’s thinking it all the same.

To imagine that he’s been doing all of this in silence since meeting Bucciarati and his Team. To think that he could be so dense as to dismiss the signs that he isn’t alone. He only wishes he had realized sooner, even if he isn’t sure what it would have changed. He’s not sure he could have broached the subject then. He’s not sure he could do it now. Mista only found out because of circumstance.

Still. There’s someone just like him, and they live under the same roof. “I should,” he agrees, because he really should, hang-ups aside.

“Hey, you wanna try laying out? ‘Cause, no offense, man, but that looks super uncomfortable.” Mista asks after a beat of silence. He’s never one to let it go on for too long, and he’s rarely deterred by any uncomfortableness that might be lingering.

Giorno nods his head after a moment and slowly sits up. He moves his hands to hold the heating pad against his abdomen and breathes a small sigh of relief when the pain doesn’t immediately crowd in on him again. He carefully stretches himself out across the bed, despite how painfully aware of Mista’s presence he is. It’s weird to be laying out, so physically vulnerable, and it makes him acutely aware of all the things he wishes he could forget. (Is the outline of his binder visible? What about the shape of his hips? Does lying down like this make it that much more obvious how slight Giorno is?)

Once he’s lying back fully, he lets go of the pad, allowing it to rest on top of him on its own. The next wave of pain is far more manageable than the last several have been, and he merely winces in response.

“Those must suck, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

“I really don’t,” Mista agrees, “Though Trish and Bucci make it out to be pretty shitty, so.”

“I think I prefer being stabbed.”

Mista winces at the thought, “For what it’s worth, I’d rather you weren’t.”

Giorno lets out a startled laugh, but he gets Mista’s point. He kind of wishes his bodyguard weren’t so prone to being shot with multiple bullets on a regular basis. Unfortunately for both of them, they can’t always get what they want.

The quiet that settles over them this time is much more peaceful. Giorno closes his eyes and relaxes into the mattress. It’s the best he’s felt all day. Physically, anyway. There’s plenty for him to work through otherwise, but he doesn’t want to think about that right now. Instead, he focuses on the lessening cramps until they’ve all but died off entirely. Exhaustion takes hold of him then. It’s still far too early in the day to sleep, but a nap is beginning to sound like a good idea.

Before he can think about drifting off fully, he cracks his eyes open to peek at Mista, “Thank you.”

Mista beams at him from where he’s gone and laid out next to Giorno, “Anytime, GioGio. Anytime.”

#giomis #misgio #giorno giovanna #guido mista #jjba #vento aureo #team bucci #jean pierre polnareff #bruno bucciarati #bruno buccellati #jjba part 5 #part 5 #golden wind #blitzwrites #blitz

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theonetheycallhannah · 3 years

Text

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 20: Second Assist

Characters: Captain Logan “Sy” Syverson, Shane Benton (OFC), various other original supporting/secondary characters

Summary: Shane reunites with friends and family, hashes out some feelings, and gets real with Sy. Can their relationship survive her trauma? And the threat that still looms above them?

Romance and Smut Abound HERE!

Word Count: 4500

Warnings: Mention of rape, alcoholic beverages, violent imagery…feels out the butt.

Author’s Note: You guys are so splendid and beautiful! I can’t thank you enough for your support and encouragement to finish this piece. First, welcome to new readers! I know poor Henry’s injury and subsequent physiotherapy has driven some of you here, and while I’m sorry for him, I’m glad I can consider myself something of a pioneer in this particular genre and provide you some help for your newfound thirst. To my OG readers, it is to you I owe this entire work, parts written and incomplete, and I hope an eventual book deal. I mean to mention you in my acknowledgements, should this ever reach a willing publisher. You’ve inspired me so supremely that I cannot quantify it, even with the words I hold so dear.

Since my last chapter was posted, we’ve said a relieved goodbye to 2020 and a tentative hello to 2021. To be honest, this year has started out worse than last year. Lots of bad weather in my area this winter, my sister is currently on her way to a new life in another state, and my grandmother, the last grandparent I had, passed away in February. Those last two things have been especially difficult to shake off and recover from, both coming to fruition pretty suddenly. Amongst all that, I’ve been pretty distracted by my other fandoms, especially Marvel, and I’ve been reading a killer book series that I’m utterly in love with. (The Throne of Glass novels by Sarah J. Maas. 10/10 recommend.) But I knew I needed to get back into Shane and Sy’s story, especially given the new and rekindled interest in the subject matter. In all honesty, I’ve had most of it written for months. It’s just been a matter of finishing it off to set up the rest of the story.

I really hope you all enjoy Chapter 20, Second Assist, and would love your feedback and notes. You are all so important to this story, and your notes, reblogs, and comments are cherished. Thank you so much for reading! Love from Hannah!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism. This is an original work by me, Hannah. Please reblog if you wish to share. Please do not repost either in whole or part, as the work of anyone but myself. Thanks so much for reading!

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@onlyhenrys @cavillryarchive @summersong69 @titty-teetee @bloodyinspiredfuck @agniavateira@oddsnendsfanfics @omgkatinka @thisismysecretthirstblog @speakerforthedead0 @tumblnewby @suavechops @radkesgirl83 @wheretheriversrunintothesea @heartfelt-pen @auds24 @geekycanuck @lunarstarknight @wilma-g @coldmuffinbanditshoe @feralrunaway @sugarpenchant @bichibibi @mzchievous-blog @shesakillerkween @madbadidc7ed @foodieforthoughts @toomanyfandomsshreya @oqueequesentes-borboletas @kebabgirl67 @indigosaurus (some of you new readers didn’t ask, but I took the liberty. If you want me to remove you, I totally will without hard feelings.)

If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Shane woke in her warm bed, late morning sun streaming in through her sheer curtains, the heavier drapes parted to let in the light. She wished she'd remembered to close them before now. She really was not ready to be awake.

She was sore. Achy. Her sleep had been fitful and full of shadowy nightmares and muffled screams. Beyond that, she didn't try to remember images or events. She knew the general premise of the dreams. It would take a lot of time, effort, or a miracle to make her forget those traumas she'd been through in the last week. Not even forget. She knew she never would. But move on from them. Accept them. And heal from them…even that seemed a mighty obstacle. One she was not sure she could surmount.

Through the open bedroom door, she could hear Lynyrd Skynyrd and the clanging and sizzling of pans, and she could smell bacon and freshly brewed coffee. Sy had left the room, but had not, it seemed, gone far. She gingerly sat up, stood from the bed, and donned her robe as she walked out into the hall and down the corridor to the kitchen.

The sight before her warmed her heart. There was Sy. In only his boxers, daringly frying the notoriously dangerous breakfast meat. Upon her entry to the kitchen, she could also smell pancakes, and she thought syrup, as well. He seemed to be warming a bottle of the maple unction in a pot of hot water. He turned as she stepped on a squeaky floorboard, and grinned widely at her.

"Mornin' sunshine." And she was struck by the irony of someone with such a radiant smile calling her sunshine. Especially when she didn't feel much like beaming. But she couldn't help return the expression, even through her pain.

"Mornin' bear. Did you go to the store?" She knew she couldn't have any bacon in her fridge, and she doubted her eggs and milk were still good at this point. But she also couldn't think that he would leave her for any reason.

"Nah, some of the guys brought over some provisions. Matt worked on your car all night, too, and filled up the tank. It's as good as new. He and Nate brought ‘er over as well as the groceries. I just had ‘em get stuff I knew your family wouldn't be bringing later. They've had tons of food given to them this week, and they're ready to share. You should have seen your mom loading me down with sandwiches and chips and whatnot when I visited them."

"I still can't believe you met them. I really wanted to introduce you personally." Shane's face fell. She would never be able to get that back. She wanted to cry. Sy had poured her a cup of coffee and sat it in front of her with her favorite creamer.

"Darlin' I’m so sorry. I had to talk to them."

"I know." she sniffed. "I'm not mad. Not at you. Just…"she didn't want to say Elliott's name. "I'm disappointed that the experience was stolen from me." That so many things had been stolen from her. By that monster. There was no other way to describe him. Sy growled. As if he could read her mind. He really just knew her well enough and shared her thoughts.

"Well, don't worry, we'll have a nice dinner with them one of these days, and we can pretend. Sound good?"

"Yeah, and I can feign nervousness." she laughed.

"And I'll pretend too. That I'm scared to meet your dad." he chuckled. "What if he threatens me with his shotgun?"

"I'll pull the ol' 'Daddy, no, I loooooove him!' line, as I throw myself between you!"

"That oughta work." he laughed and kissed her on the forehead as he stepped toward the stove and flipped a pancake.

As they sat eating their late breakfast, Shane's mind wandered. Nothing had changed on the surface, but everything was different now. This cozily mundane breakfast with her boyfriend felt like an out of body experience. As delicious as it was, as wonderful and comforting as it should feel, her guard was up. Even through her amiable façade. She was not the person she was two weeks ago. She was not the same woman who said goodbye to Sy at the base. Maybe that was the real transformation. Maybe that was why nothing felt normal. It wasn't the world, but her own self coming back into it.

"Shane?" Sy asked, gently, but it felt like he was speaking through a megaphone directly into her ear. She was so startled, she nearly dropped the half full mug of coffee that was paused midway to her lips. A bit sloshed out onto the table and splashed her shirt.

"Shit!" she chided herself. It wasn't a big deal, but she felt stupid jumping at the sound of her own name.

Sy reached for the closest towel, hanging from the oven handle, grabbed it and started for her clothes with it. She stopped him. But she couldn't think about why the intimate act made her uncomfortable.

"No, don't, it's fine. These clothes have seen better days, anyway." She pulled the towel from him and began to mop up the small puddles of coffee around her plate.

Sy seemed to note the stains already present on the shirt, as if trying to divine their history. She was something of a messy eater, so the battle wounds of many a barbecue, spaghetti dinner, and hurried breakfast peppered the now off-white SATB club tee she'd gotten her second or third year in college choir. She thought back to a huge room with high ceilings. White, cinder block walls, flecked tile floors, a beautiful, glossy, black baby grand in front of a long whiteboard with black lines to resemble sheet music. She thought about the mnemonic device she'd learned to help her remember what notes appeared on each line, and in the spaces between them. She pondered the deeper meanings and implications of these devices. EGBDF…every good boy does fine. She thought about the "good boys" in her life. She knew many. Her dad, her brother Ethan, Sy, obviously, her many male coworkers and friends…and honestly they did far better than "fine." They were wonderful. But she was letting the "bad boys" she'd encountered dictate her mood. Permeate her psyche. Tear her down. She didn't want to be like this. Then FACE came to mind, and above their purpose of indicating the notes between the lines on the staff, they called her to action. To face these newly minted demons with all the strength she knew she possessed, and she too would "do fine." But as with almost all actions, this was easier said than done.

She felt a warm presence on her left hand which had paused it's torture of the now coffee-infused kitchen towel. Sy's hand was squeezing hers gently.

"Shane." he uttered, barely above a whisper this time. She looked at him through tears that she had not realized had formed. He continued.

"Shane, what can I do, darlin'? I'll do anything."

"Babe, you're doing everything you can, and more. This…this is all going to have to come from me. I…don't know when I'll be myself again…" she paused, tears streaming now. "I'm…I'm different."

"You're not though." he reached for her face, but she pulled away.

"I am, damn it! Sy, I was…" Words had power. And the one she was thinking of had more power than she thought was warranted. She knew that uttering it would take away it's power…and yet mustering the courage and strength to actually do so…seemed impossible. She took a deep breath, and disassociated herself from the statement, even though it was about her own past.

"I was raped." She refused to cry. She felt it all again. She had never said the words. She had never thought it necessary. Everyone understood. Sy, his friends, and she was sure her own loved ones had made the connection. But she knew she needed to say it now to drive home the points she was about to make.

Sy, looked at the table, nodding, not needing to be told in so many words something he already had surmised from the clear evidence. He remained silent. She went on.

"I love you, Sy. I have since the day we met, on one level or another, and I believe that I always will. But I…right now I can't be a proper girlfriend to you. I can't…be with you, touch you, be touched by you, in the way we used to be. In the way you deserve…and I don't know when…or even if…I ever will. Not that I don't want to. That's ALL I want in the world. To go back. To be the woman who fell in love with this…incredible man. To make love with you, but…I can't."

Sy's eyes were full of tears, their predecessors already descending his round cheeks and disappearing into his thick, dark beard.

"Sy, I don't want to lead you on and keep you tied to a relationship with no life in it. You deserve someone who's whole. Someone who can be a fully invested partner for you, and not this broken, damaged--"

"You stop that, Shane. I won't hear no more of this kinda talk. Y'hear? You're my girl. My woman. My person. No matter what. You gotta know I'd never leave ya just cuz you aren't ready for sex again. You don't think that I would, do ya?"

"Well, you went to Virginia…you took that job…knowing the distance it would put between us. Literally and figuratively."

"Biggest mistake of my life." Shane raised her eyebrows in surprise as Sy elaborated. "I couldn't focus on my classes without wishing you were there. Wishing I could team up with you for discussions and hand to hand combat training…that thought got me a little too excited, if you catch my drift." He smirked, pulling a sheepish smile from Shane. "Then in that forest. I dreamt about you every night. I thought of you constantly. I could barely breath sometimes, I missed ya so damned much. I was an idiot. I was insane to think that I needed anything other than you. Any MORE. There IS no more. You're it. You're the MOST! The most important thing in my life."

The declaration hung like vapors in the air, more felt than seen. Tangible yet ethereal.

"And when I found out that you were missing…I was…well, I think I looked like death…and not warmed over. You can ask the program director I met with after I got the news. She could tell I was just sick over it. And as I thought about it on the way home, pieced things together, started thinking about who'd taken you, I got murderous. Shane, I have been in dozens of battles, skirmishes, firefights, you name it. War. But…the sheer bloodlust I felt thinking about what you could be going through…I've never experienced anything like it. Everything was red. Everything. For days. Until I saw you, alive. And then it went red again when I saw the fear and damage on your face." she could tell he was doing his best not to talk about the farmhouse and that basement, but she still flashed back to the moments before and after his appearance there. The moments when she simultaneously prayed to live and hoped to die.

"You don't owe me anything, Shane. I just want you in my life, and I don't care what your presence looks like. Romantic, platonic, or somewhere in between. I'm here for you. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

Shane felt the urge to wrap her arms around her boyfriend, but could not seem to move more than one arm to place her other hand on top of his. She hoped the gratitude and love behind the small, but heartfelt gesture landed. It was all she had in that moment, no matter how abundant her affection.

~~~~~~~~~~

Shane's family's arrival was a complete blur to her. It was joyous, tearful, and the happiest she'd been in a long time. The moment she opened the front door for them, she was surrounded, engulfed with hugs from her parents and siblings. They stood in their affectionate huddle for several moments before Peg waved Sy over with marked insistence. He'd been standing by, observing happily, but not wanting to intrude on the familial reunion.

When they finally dispersed, John asked the two younger men to help him bring in groceries. The women headed into Shane's bedroom for a more private setting in which to talk. Shane filled her mother and sister in the best she could given the rawness of the wounds left on her mind by the events.

She leaned against the headboard cuddling with Gabby while her mom rubbed her feet. She had insisted on doing this thing that had always comforted her children, and made them feel much better when they were younger.

"Well, I'm very proud of you, pumpkin." The girls both looked at their mother, who rather uncharacteristically hadn't spoken in some time. Shane was nonplussed. Peg elaborated.

"You survived something that many women don't. You're talking about it now, which even more women don't. You may think you're broken, but you're just a tree damaged by a storm, but standing stronger than ever." Trust her mom to lay such wisdom on her. When she felt like giving up. When she just wanted pity. When she could only see defeat. Her mother had always found a way to encourage and buoy her and show her the victory.

"Mom's right." Gabby affirmed, and it was Peg's turn to be nonplussed, as the two women, though similar in so many ways, never seemed to see eye to eye. "It's true. Shane I've seen a lot of women come into the clinic in shoes very much like yours. And trust me…some of them…they don't make it to this point. You've got a long way to go before you're fully recovered, don't get me wrong, but you'll get there. You have us. And you have Sy."

"And then there's Sy." She diverted. "How am I supposed to plan any sort of future with him when…" She looked at her mom, and hesitated. Peg rolled her eyes.

"Shane, I know what the two of you get up to when you're alone. You don't have to be shy with me."

"Still…" she took a breath and spoke. "When I can't bring myself to…sleep with him?"

"Look at him, you're kidding, right?" Gabby chided, insensitively, but recanted at the pained expression on Shane's face. "Sorry, sis. Trying to lighten the mood a touch. Too soon. But seriously, I don't think this reluctance you feel will be permanent."

"And even if it is," Peg took over, "that man is out-of-his-mind in love with you, Shaney." She kissed Shane's toe before putting a sock on her foot. "He almost seems to worship you. Now, you know how I feel about using that term outside of religious context, but that is exactly the kind of love I want for you. Devout, and unconditional."

"But, mom, I can't--"

"Did you hear me? I said 'unconditional,' sweetie." Peg interrupted. "No matter what. No matter the obstacle. No matter the distance. No matter the circumstances. Love unwavering. That's what Sy has for you. I've seen it in him. Trust the momma."

The insistence her mother placed on trust had always ruffled Shane's feathers. Gabby's too, who she could feel stiffen slightly beside her. But Shane, for once, really wanted to trust her mother, hoping against hope that she was right. And that she, herself wouldn't screw up the best relationship she had ever been in or was likely to ever be in again.

The girls had begun talking about some of the coworkers who'd brought food in the past week, and Peg couldn't resist remarking on the character of her favorites and judging the ones she didn't care for…oddly enough, getting more or less, the correct measure of them, as Shane saw it.

After what must have been an hour from the time they'd arrived, they heard a knock on the slightly ajar bedroom door. John poked his head in.

"Ladies, we've put a casserole in the oven, and completed various manly projects around the house--"

"Oh, daddy, what projects?" She cringed. She hated that the men had felt the need to "fix" things.

"Babe, your guest bathroom had not one, but two leaky faucets, your kitchen table seemed to be more of a teeter-totter, and half the light bulbs in the living room were out. Among other tiny things. You're welcome." he smirked his crooked smirk so similar to her own, and she returned it as if he was looking in a mirror.

"Thanks, dad."

"Anyway, lunch is almost ready. So, when you've finished your confab, let's eat."

Dinner passed amiably, Shane found a reserve within herself to allow some quasi-normal behavior, as long as you didn’t look too closely. She was talking animatedly with her siblings, making their parents and Sy laugh riotously. Shane noticed some odd looks passing between Sy and her father, but chalked it up to paranoia. She wished at least Gabby and Ethan could stay, but Heather would be over soon, and she deserved her own dedicated time. Shane wanted to give that to her.

She said her farewells to her family with promises to visit them the next day, and at least one more time before her siblings went back home, if she could work it out.

Sy was so wonderful the whole time. Standing by her, a hand resting lightly on her shoulder as they waved goodbye to the departing vehicle. He made her feel so safe. They went into the kitchen and cleaned up from lunch. Well, Sy cleaned. Shane was texting Heather about when she'd be over.

"Heather says she'll be here in about a half hour. She's picking up wine and pizza." Shane told Sy without looking up from her phone. She could see out of the corner of her eye, though, that he had just closed the dishwasher and was selecting a cycle.

"Sounds great. Do you want me to get out of here? Give you guys some time, one on one?" He asked as he dried his hands, wet from preparing dishes for the machine.

She thought about it, and shuddered. She played a scene in her head that startled her. In her mind's eye, she saw Sy leave and then moments later heard a knock on the door. Presuming it was Heather, she opened the door with abandon, only to see Elliott standing there under a flickering porch light, smirking maliciously at her and ready to overpower and abduct her again. She shook the thought from her head, but remained uneasy as she answered his question.

"Uh, no. Thanks. I'm sure she'll want to talk to both of us. She likes you." Shane grinned softly at Sy in an attempt to mask her trepidation over the thought of him leaving her alone for any period of time. She thought it had worked.

"Okay, well, whatever you think, sunshine. I don't wanna get in the way." He was wiping down the countertops. She felt so impossibly full of love for him, she was starting to wonder how she hadn't yet burst with it. She couldn't bear the thought of holding him back from a fulfilling relationship. He deserved everything she couldn't give him right now. And she knew she should make him leave her. Cut him loose. But she was, as she'd been since she'd met him, a weak woman. She couldn't stand the thought of being without him. Of him no longer being hers. And somehow worse, of not being his, herself. She would always need him for so many reasons, not least of which being her love for him. Maybe one day, she'd recover from this trauma, and be able to be who he deserved. To give him what he needed.

"You're never in the way, bear." She walked up behind him, wrapped her arms around his middle and squeezed him as tight as she could. He placed a loving hand over hers, sighing and smiling, though she had no visual proof of the latter. It was just a feeling.

Heather's greeting was no less exuberant than that of Shane's family, but it was more joyful and less emotional, even though she was immensely relieved to see her best friend after so long. They talked as if no time had passed, and Shane mustered up the dregs of her former self to have one more interaction for the day. Thank God it was Heather and not someone who would require more. She wouldn't have it to give.

"I am so glad you're okay, Shane! Things around the clinic have been bleak as fuck. Susan is loosing her mind, Anita is beside herself with concern, and the rest of us just plain ol' miss the hell out of you. And not just because of all of the overtime everyone has been pulling to get your patients seen."

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry! I didn't realize…wow, I'm awful. I didn't even think---"

"That you'd be missed? Think again, sister. The place would fall apart if you ever really left. But don't feel guilty. It's the least everyone can do, and they've all said it themselves. We all love you, and know that you'd do the same for any of us if you could at all. Hopefully you won't have to, though!"

Shane nodded, eyes wide in agreement. She wouldn't wish the last week of her life on her worst enemy. On the worst person in the world. Except maybe the people responsible. Tit for tat.

"Well, I'm sorry my absence has caused extra work for all of you." Shane looked into the deep glass of Chardonnay Sy had poured her from the bottle Heather had brought. She felt about as small as the air bubble making it's way up the sloping curve of the stemless vessel. She felt a guilt that she knew was fully void of logic. It made no sense for her to feel guilt for being kidnapped. But she had always had this notion, this nagging voice in her head that told her that her misfortunes were a direct result of her decisions. That she'd inadvertently stepped on the butterfly that resulted in the monsoon she was currently experiencing, and whatever cataclysmic events she would face next.

"Why in God's name are you apologizing for this, Shay?" Heather's tone was kind, but still mildly scolding.

"If I'd never been with Elliott, none of this would have--"

"Bitch, are you a fortune teller?"

"No, but--"

"Soothsayer?"

"No."

"Time traveler?"

"I wish!" Shane chuckled. But she really did wish.

"Have you any real and proven success at consistently predicting the future?"

"I don't, but--"

"No. No buts. No howevers. You had no idea what becoming involved with Elliott could have done. Were there signs, sure. But you can't look on the past as a rubric to judge the quality of your decisions. You know that. You can only learn from your mistakes. And you have."

"Heather's right, sunshine. You really have learned. You look for Elliott's behaviors in mine and shut me down quick if you see 'em. You're not going to let yourself go down that road again. And I'm proud of you for it."

Shane silently worried her wine glass. It was hard to argue with such truth. But it was hard to agree when her own feelings were in such stark opposition. So she did neither.

"Well, I've preached my sermon for the day." she laughed. "I've taken up enough of your time. Oh, your phone. It's in my purse. I think it's fully charged, but I turned it off."

Shane thanked her friend, then Heather hugged them both and took her leave.

"Y'okay, bug?" Sy asked her after what she surmised was several minutes of silence. Minutes she didn't notice as they passed.

"Mmm…" she trailed off.

"Can I do something for ya?" And she really thought about the question. He could probably do a lot of things for her. He could make love to her until she felt whole again, even if it hurt her at first. Not an ideal option. He could probably get them both some new identities and enough money to spirit her away to somewhere her past wouldn't follow. If she became someone new, literally, would she have to bring that old baggage, those old scars, with her? Again, suboptimal. But he could definitely take the source of all grief and turmoil in her life far into the Missouri back country, somewhere not even the hunters would venture, some fallow field or forgotten cistern, and end him. Snuff out his spark of life like a candle caught in a tornado. Spill a fatal amount of his monstrous blood onto the unforgiving earth and send him to the Hell to which he was undoubtedly destined. But did she want that? Did she want another soul as a scar on that of the man she so deeply cherished? He'd say it was worth it. He'd say he'd take a thousand more for her. A million. That was Sy.

"Nothing comes to mind." She lied. And he knew it was a lie, but didn't push it. She was so grateful that he respected her, not for the lie itself, but for the reason she wasn't giving him the whole truth just now.

His phone went off and he picked it up as he stood from his seat at the table. She could only hear that it was Matt, the guy she thought she understood had the car place, before she heard tension in Sy's voice. Even from the next room, she could tell something was wrong, though he was talking too quietly for her to make out words.

She heard him suddenly shout a stream of profanities that he rarely said at all around her, at least, let alone together. There was a bang, and the walls of her kitchen quaked like the tectonic plates beneath them were shifting.

Sy walked back in, his face was red, as were his knuckles. He was shaking an injury out of his hand.

"What's wrong?" she asked, deep concern at his appearance and demeanor, suddenly ominous.

"I need to fix your wall in there." he grumbled, evading, without success. She'd be doing therapy on his hand, next.

"What's really wrong?" she repeated, sternly.

"That was Matt. Elliott's…escaped, somehow. He's in the wind."

Shane's heart became so heavy, she could almost feel it smashing through the kitchen floor and burying itself deep in the cement floor of her basement.

"Oh, God! No! What if he goes to the police!?"

"Fuck that, I'm more concerned about him coming after you!"

The two stared, faces full of equal measures of concern for the other.

Up Next: Chapter 21-Patient Education

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