#but i suppose that’s just the world without him.? everything echoes louder than it should | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ko-riacchi · 3 years

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Live Stream

Pairing: Shigaraki x F!Reader Genre: Smut, Angst Length: 4,3k

WARNINGS: NONCON!

Thank you to @cultbabyyy who read through it as soon as I was done And thank you to @kazooli whose fics made me realize that I can write whatever the fuck I want

(Inspired by Yagami Yato’s Shigaraki Pt.3 audio)

Tomura was a man-child. Which meant that when he had a new toy, he couldn’t help himself but to rub it in other people’s faces that he had something that they – in fact – no longer had.

The room was dimly lit, most of the light coming from the computer screen and the various sources of blue light stemming from the computer tower, mouse and keyboard.

Tomura sat in his computer chair, arms possessively wrapped around your form and you wriggled and squirmed in his grip, trying to get loose.

“Now, now,” Tomura rasped into your ear. “Don’t struggle too much. You wouldn’t want any accidents to happen, now would you?”

Your face scrunched up and you bit your lip, knowing exactly what Tomura could do to you – even accidentally – and you stilled in his grasp.

His right hand left your figure now that you were placated and grabbed the computer mouse, the sound of it clicking reverberating through the otherwise quiet room.

You weren’t particularly interested in whatever he was doing on his computer, so you let your eyes wander through the room. You needed to find a way to get out of this situation, this room and especially this dangerous hold that he had over you.

You knew that the first two were comparatively easy to achieve, once you had successfully managed to pull off the latter one. After all, you hadn’t managed to become a pro hero without learning a skill or two.

But your offensive quirk just wasn’t suited to squirm free of his grasp without potentially getting disintegrated should all of his five fingers touch your body. Usually, you were quite content with your abilities but right now you couldn’t help but curse yourself for not being born with a quirk more similar to the one of your old teacher, Eraserhead.

Your gaze continued to examine the room, trying to find anything at all that could help you in your predicament. But mostly, the shelves were littered with games upon games, accompanied by the corresponding console. Behind you, a bed stood in the corner of the room, the sheets thrown on it carelessly. While those may not be able to aid you in your initial quest to rid yourself of his dangerous hands, you would be able to use them to cut off his vision once you had gotten free – even if it was just for a second.

Your thought process was interrupted by Tomura, whose hand slid back to your body, grasping your hip in his hand while making sure that his pinky was lifted as to not accidentally kill you.

“Now we just have to wait for a few more minutes and the show can get started,” he said, his hands leisurely beginning to stroke your sides.

“Show?” you echoed confused and for the first time, your focus landed on the computer screen in front of you where a website you didn’t recognize was opened.

What you did recognize however, was the screen in the middle which reflected your own surprised face and the grinning one of Tomura behind you. Your eyes flitted to the top of the monitor to find a small camera on top, the little red light on the bottom center telling you that it was currently recording.

Back on the monitor screen, your eyes zoomed in on a small number in the corner and quickly you concluded that it showed the current viewer number of what obviously was a live stream.

“Wh-what are you planning, Shigaraki?” you asked him and turned your head and upper body so you could look in his eyes.

His gaze locked on to yours and a grin stretched across his face, cracked lips quickly moistened by his tongue so they wouldn’t crack further.

“Why, I thought since I’ve got you here, it would be a… shame not to share all the fun we’re about to have with the world,” he explained. “I even sent some links out to your dear colleagues, wouldn’t want them to miss out on it, now would we?”

Your eyes darted back to the monitor for a second, the viewer counter steadily rising, before you locked your eyes with Tomura again.

“It doesn’t matter in what way you’ll try to hurt me. I’m a hero, for God’s sake, don’t think I’m not used to pain. All you’re going to achieve by streaming this, is that my colleagues will trace the IP and find this place even faster.” You sent him a defiant look.

Tomura erupted into cackling laughter, sounding like the crazy madman he was. “Hurt you? Oh no no no no, I think you’re misunderstanding. I’m not going to hurt you.” His right hand moved upwards to grip the top of your hero uniform; his pinky raised by acquired habit.

“Rather, I thought…” he continued, his grip hardening around the sturdy material before he purposefully burrowed his hand in it. “We could have some fun in a different way.”

Your horrified gaze went towards your chest, where the material of your suit began to crumble away in ashes, opening the view to your undergarments.

“Fuck you!” you screamed and started to struggle in his grasp. His left hand gripped your side harder, pinky raised, while his right hand came up to grip your chin.

“N’ah, ah, ah,” he chided you and his grip on your chin became painful. “Don’t forget that I hold your life in my hands.”

Before you had the chance to reply to him, his lips descended upon yours. His kiss was harsh and bruising, the feeling of his chapped lips uncomfortable on yours. You tried to break free of his hold, but it was futile. His tongue slipped out of his mouth and licked your lips, hoping to gain entry. You pressed them together more fiercely, your jaw gnashing with the force you brought up to keep your mouth closed.

Tomura clicked his tongue in disapproval. He took his mouth off you for a second to take a look at your tense face.

“Now, now, doll, while it would be a shame if this level was too easy to clear, I think you still don’t understand exactly in what situation you are currently in.”

As if to prove his point, his hand lifted from your jaw and gripped the fabric of your sports bra with all of his fingers. Instantly, the material began to crumble away under his grip until all that remained was a small heap of ashes on your legs.

Now, with nothing to cover your shame, your face burned with embarrassment and your arms shot up to cover your breasts.

“Oh, don’t get shy on me,” Tomura grinned and grabbed your arms to pull them away from your chest. “I’m sure your viewers would love to get a good look at you.”

You tried to fight his grip, but his raw strength was far superior to yours, so you had no chance but to uncover your breasts for everyone to see. Your eyes felt hot and began to sting but you refused to let any tears fall. A hero didn’t cry, no matter how dire the situation got. On the screen, you saw an influx of messages on the chat, not even bothering to try and read the contents; you were sure that it wasn’t something you would actually want to read.

Before Tomura could continue to embarrass you further, a “ding” sounded from the computer speaker into the silence of the room. This led Tomura to giggle in excitement.

“Seems like the first one of our special guests has just entered the stream,” he said from behind you. Your head whipped around to face him. “What is that supposed to mean?” you asked him, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Oh, don’t worry, my doll. That ‘ding’ you just heard? Means that one of my invitation links just got opened and one of your colleagues just decided to finally join us. Why don’t you be nice and greet him?”

Tomura took your right hand he was still holding and began to wave it for the camera. Your eyes closed in frustration, knowing there was nothing you could do about it. When he was finally done waving for you, his hand let go of your wrist and immediately you covered your chest the best you could.

His now free hand gripped your hair and pulled your head back. His head burrowed itself in the crook of your neck, nibbling and biting at your skin. His lips moved up towards your ear and he whispered “Now, let’s make sure that we put on a good show for our viewers.” before taking your earlobe into his mouth and biting on it.

“Once I’m out of here, I’ll fucking kill you,” you answered him through gritted teeth, trying to ignore the unpleasant wet feeling of his mouth on you. You felt him smile against your skin, but he didn’t say anything to you in return. Instead, his hand left your hair and glided down your face and neck, making its way down to your breasts.

Your hand gripped his wrist, trying to keep him from touching you in this intimate place but you already knew that you wouldn’t be able to stop him. Moments later, Tomura’s hand had reached its goal and he began to fondle your breast roughly, pulling and twisting your nipple.

Your face scrunched up in pain and once more, you tried to pull his hand away from your body – to no avail. He continued tugging and twisting and shamefully you noticed that your nipple was getting hard. You knew that it was merely a bodily response to being stimulated but it was still hard to stomach that your body was reacting to it when you sure as hell weren’t enjoying his ministrations in the slightest.

And it seemed like you weren’t the only one who had noticed. Tomura had as well and you felt his grin against your neck. “Oh, seems like somebody’s enjoying it?” he gloated and tugged on your nipple harder.

“As if!” you exclaimed, hoping that nobody else would believe his incredulous words. Everything about his touches was uncomfortable: His grip was rough and his hand felt scratchy on your delicate skin.

Once more, you started to wriggle in his grasp, knowing that nothing would come out of it. With just the threat of his hands, he had you defeated before you had even started fighting. And although what was about to happen horrified and scared you, death scared you even more.

Now his left hand let go of yours and instantly, you started curling in on yourself, trying to prevent him from touching you further or the viewers on the stream from seeing you. He allowed you to remain in this position for a few moments while his gaze was fixed on the screen, reading the influx of comments.

“It seems like the majority of our viewers want us to move on to the next level already,” Tomura said and his left hand snaked under your armpit and up to your throat, tilting your body back against his.

“What do you say we give the people what they want?” Another tug on your nipple, and his hand left your breast before it continued downwards to your panties. Your hands clawed at his arm, trying to free yourself from his grip and save the last bit of dignity you still had left. Tomura wasn’t fazed by that however and his hand steadily continued until it had clawed into the material of your underwear and it decayed into nothingness along with your last shred of hope to somehow free yourself of this situation.

The little pile of dust that had settled on your crotch was blown away by Tomura and his mouth stretched into a wide grin, his dry lips close to cracking open. The hand that had disintegrated your panties now took your right thigh and pulled it to the side, effectively spreading your legs and displaying your pussy for everyone on the stream to see.

You had closed your eyes, not wanting to see yourself and your shameful display mirrored on the screen. Your hands, that had been on his arm up until now, trying to free yourself of his grasp, fell limply to your sides as all fight left your body. You knew that there was no way you would be able to get yourself out of this situation before Tomura had had the chance to defile you. Your only option at this point was to wait for your colleagues to arrive and save you – and hoping that you wouldn’t get killed before they would do so.

Once Tomura felt your body slacken, he began to laugh. “What? Not gonna fight me anymore?” he asked, his voice full of malicious joy. “And here I was beginning to enjoy your feisty attitude.”

Your change in behavior didn’t however stop him from continuing on with his little show and his right hand moved from your thigh to your pussy lips, spreading them open with the pointer and middle finger of his hand to give his audience a good show.

“That’s some grade A hero pussy,” he grinned into the camera as rubbed his finger around your hole a few times. “I wonder how many dicks it has taken so far…”

He turned his face from the camera to you as if he was waiting for an answer. You weren’t willing to give him that information though and kept your mouth shut, even as he lifted his other hand from your neck to your cheeks to squeeze them and get you to talk.

After a moment however, it seemed as if he had lost patience waiting for your answer, as he retracted his hand and put it back into place on your neck.

“It doesn’t matter. Once I’ve fucked you, I’ll have you ruined for other dicks for all eternity,” he cackled, his pointer finger pushing into your dry cunt immediately after he had finished his sentence.

You hissed out in pain. The skin on his finger was rough and you – surprise, surprise – were not turned on at all, so it hurt when he shoved it inside without any preparation at all.

When Tomura heard your hiss, he cackled again, moving his finger around inside you.

“If you’re already struggling to take my finger, you will break apart once I shove my cock inside you.”

Slowly, he began to move his finger, and with horror you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter the more he prodded your walls. Soon, he was able to fit a second finger inside your heat, angling them upwards and against where he had read the g-spot was.

When you took a sharp breath, he knew that he had been successful and he continued to push against the little rough patch of skin, knowing it would be so much more bitter for you if your body enjoyed the ordeal.

After a few moments of pumping his fingers inside you, he stopped and leaned forward a bit, reading through the comments in the chat.

He laughed. “Yeah, that little hero pussy is getting nice and wet,” he replied to one commenter. “It’s sucking my fingers right in.”

As if to demonstrate, he pulled his fingers out a bit and moved them around, until a squelching sound could be heard, and then pushed them all the way inside again, which elicited a muffled moan you hadn’t been able to stop in time.

“She’s definitely enjoying herself,” he answered another comment, looking at you with a sleazy grin. “Isn’t that right, hero slut?”

You grit your teeth and held back the curses and slurs you wanted to reply with, knowing that it would amuse your tormenter.

Once Tomura felt like he had replied to enough comments, he turned his attention back to you, thrusting his fingers inside you harshly one last time before he took them out, lifting them to the camera first to show the glistening juices before he put them inside his mouth and licked them with an exaggerated hum.

“I hope you’re ready for the final boss,” he whispered into your ear, although he made sure that it was loud enough for his audience to hear.

You shook your head, one last time trying to squirm out of his grasp. All that achieved however was that your ass rubbed against Tomura’s bulge and he let out a soft hiss.

“No need to be impatient, little hero slut,” he said with a grin as the hand that held your neck lifted you higher so the other hand could loosen and push down his pants.

Even if you hadn’t wanted to, as soon as Tomura’s erection bobbed free and sprang up between your legs, your eyes wandered to it, widening when you saw his size.

Tomura had to have seen your expression mirrored in the stream because he let out a manic laugh, his entire body (and dick) shaking with the emotion.

“Oh, don’t worry, it won’t hurt… much,” he cackled as he rubbed his dick along your slit, coating it in your juices. You body twitched when the tip of his dick rubbed over your clit and a shameful whimper escaped your throat, although you willed yourself immediately to shut up.

Not wanting to see your own violation, you closed your eyes as Tomura positioned himself at your entrance and began to slowly push inside.

You couldn’t hold back the hiss that escaped your throat at the intrusion, nor the squirming as you tried to get away from it.

Tomura only tightened his grip on your neck you, pushing your body down on him as his dick breached further and further into your wet heat.

Tears threatened to escape your eyes once Tomura was fully seated in you and only through sheer willpower, you managed to hold them back, unwilling to give up this last bit of pride you had.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Tomura groaned, stilling for a second to get used to the feeling of your cunt. “Don’t tell me you were a virgin?”

You bit your lip, refusing to answer the villain. No matter what you would say, he would only find it amusing and possibly use it to torment you further, either calling you a stuck-up hero bitch, thinking you’re too good for anyone, or a hero slut, willing to let anyone willing fuck you.

When Tomura realized he wasn’t getting an answer from you, he chuckled before he adjusted his four-finger grip on your neck, pulled almost all the way out of your cunt and slammed you down again until he was inside you to the base.

A pained cry flew from your lips but you had no time to even try and hold back your voice anymore, because Tomura immediately continued to jackhammer into you, moaning and panting into your ear as he showed the world how your cunt ate up his dick.

Your hands flew up to grab at his arm, futilely trying to steady yourself at least a bit, as he pushed and pushed and pushed into you. Squelching noises you were sure the microphone was picking up as well, came from your cunt as it greedily sucked Tomura’s dick back in every time he pulled back.

“Fuck, this is some grade A pussy,” Tomura groaned, his hips only slowing down a bit as his muscles began to hurt from the position. He caught his breath while he lazily thrusted into you, his moist breath uncomfortable on your ear.

Suddenly, Tomura moved and stood up from his chair, pushing you up as well with his hips. The hand that was around your throat slipped from under your arm and instead pushed down onto your back, laying you flat on his computer desk while his dick never left your tight cunt.

As soon as he had finished adjusting to the new position, he began railing you again, his hips slamming against your ass as his dick burrowed inside you further and further.

You let out a pained scream as his thrusts reached even deeper now, clenching your eyes shut as you tried to shut out the pain. At least in this position, the camera wasn’t able to get a shot of your face, you thought in relief, as it was too high to capture your body laid out on the desk.

Tomura must’ve noticed that fact as well because the next moment, the hand that pushed your back down moved up and grabbed your hair, pulling you up so your face was angled towards the camera. Your eyes flew open, a choked cry leaving you as you felt the burn on your scalp of your hair being pulled.

Right in front of you, you could see the red blinking light of the recoding camera and even though you wanted to close your eyes again, you found that the position made it impossible for you to do so.

So you had no choice but to stare into the camera as Tomura fucked you from behind while grunting and panting, your eyebrows furrowing as your eyes filled with tears.

After a minute of thrusting and you getting slammed against the desk again and again, Tomura leaned forward to read some more comments, his face erupting into a cackle when he read one of them.

“They’re saying I’m not taking care of you,” he told you, pulling at your hair some more so your head leant on his shoulder. “Saying you look like you’re not enjoying yourself.” He let go of your hair which caused you to fall forward onto the desk, almost slamming your head on the wood. “Let’s change that, shall we?”

With those words, his right hand began snaking around your waist, moving down so he could rub at your clit. His other hand pulled your back against his chest, giving the camera a better view and himself some more room to move his hand around your little nub.

At first, it was easy to ignore the touches on your clit, instead focusing on your uncomfortable position but then, he moved his fingers in a way that teased your clit just right and your mouth flew open as a loud moan left your lips.

“Ahh, so that’s what gets you going,” he laughed, immediately repeating the motion and trying to get you to make some more noises. You tried to hold back the sounds, tried to force yourself to close your mouth so no more moans and whimpers could escape you, but Tomura simply moved his hand on your chest upwards, pushing two of his fingers inside you mouth so it would stay open.

His thrusts had increased in speed again, his dick rubbing against your g-spot as his hands teased your clit and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your peak.

You moved your body and tried to angle your hips in a way that would made Tomura’s actions at least a bit more bearable but he noticed right away and made sure that you could not escape the orgasm that was building inside of you.

“Fuck, you’re getting even tighter,” he rasped, out of breath due to his insane pace. “Are you gonna cum around my dick?” He laughed at your pained expression, letting out a grunt as your walls began twitching around him.

“Yeah, just like that. Cream around that villain dick like the hero slut you are,” he groaned, feeling himself edging closer and closer to orgasm as well.

With one last effort, you tried to move away and stop his hand from pushing you over the edge but it was useless and with a cry, you came on his dick, the tears you had held back the entire time running down your face as your body twitched and convulsed, milking his cock like some desperate bitch in heat.

Tomura let out a choked groan, pumping into you a few more time as he announced that he was going to fill your slutty pussy with his cum, before you could feel his dick twitching inside you. You wanted to shout, wanted to beg him to at least not cum inside but his hand was still in your mouth and so you simply cried in silence as his warmth spread through you and began dripping out of your pussy.

Tomura let out a shuddering breath as he calmed down from his high, falling down in his seat and taking you with him. His dick began to get flaccid and with a plopping sound the pulled it out of your abused cunt, spreading your pussy lips for your audience to show them the copious amounts of cum that now dripped out of your slit and down your ass.

“Next time,” Tomura laughed as he pushed his cum back inside with two of his fingers. “Let’s try out that back entrance of yours.” He teasingly let his finger circle around your cum-covered asshole while you simply lay on his chest, motionless except for your harsh breaths and the sobs leaving your body.

He wiped his gooey fingers on your chest before he leaned forward to grab his computer mouse, waving to the camera one last time and telling his audience he hoped they had enjoyed the show before he cut the stream and the red light of the camera turned off.

____________________________________________

When the screen turned black, back at the agency Katsuki slammed a fist on the table. He didn’t want to watch one of his coworkers violated but they needed to make sure you weren’t killed while his colleague on the desk worked on tracing the IP.

Katsuki whipped his head up, shouting over to the other pro-hero. “Did you fucking trace the stream?!”

It was silent for a minute while his colleague typed furiously, trying his hardest to get a location.

“…no.”

Katsuki’s scream of rage could be heard through the entire agency.

#bnha #bnha smut #shigaraki x reader smut #tw: noncon #bnha noncon

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dracowars · 3 years

Text

obsessed | tom riddle

pairing: tom x reader

word count: 2,9k

summary: where y/n dislikes tom's obsession of becoming the dark lord

a/n: my first tom imagine for @creeping156tin !!! i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it <3

warnings: angst, claustrophobia, mentions of blood

universe: harry potter

A loud, painful scream suddenly pulls you out of your deep, peaceful sleep and you shoot up from your bed, your dorm room almost completely wrapped in darkness except for a few dim candlelights.

"What was that?!", your roommate asks you in fear and lights up all the lamps in your room with a spell. The other two girls also look around anxiously and neither of you know an answer to the question.

Until you suddenly hear numerous voices and steps outside your room and you quickly jump up, your friends accompanying you as you quietly open the heavy door. Carefully, you peer out of the narrow gap, only to see how all the other students in your house are running around in front of it, frightened.

"What is going on here?", you ask one of the students who you get hold of first, and look at him expectantly but somehow also a little bit scared.

"Somebody is supposed to have died!", he answers you shortly and as fast as you stopped him, he sprints off again, following the others.

Taking a look at your friends, who are still standing close behind you at the door, you can see the pure fear in their eyes. And even though they do not look like they want to leave your dorm any time soon, they nod understandingly as a sign that they still want to come with you. After all, there have always been a lot of rumours going around Hogwarts that were ultimately false anyway.

Hastily grabbing your cloaks in the colors of your house, you follow the other students out into the dark and cold corridors of Hogwarts. One of your friend is clinging onto your left arm while you are busy seeing where everyone is going.

Although you are never really afraid of anything, you now have a very uncomfortable feeling in your stomach area. The high-pitched, deafening scream from earlier still gives you an incredible amount of goosebumps all over your body and thousands of questions fly through your head.

If someone was actually killed, then who? And above all, by whom?

The four of you continue to follow the crowd, which already seems pretty strange to you as this succeeds without further problems because no teacher is patrolling the corridors like usually, and you finally stop in a long, illuminated hallway. Half of the school is probably in this certain hallway right now and romps into a big pile.

The feeling of fear is suddenly overshadowed by worry as your thoughts wander off while you get closer to the crowd. They wander off to Tom Riddle, your best friend.

The questions where he is and whether he is okay or not buzz through your mind and your knees become much shakier than before.

What if something happened to him?

Not wanting to further think about the possible worst case scenarios, you continue on your way. Everyone in the crowd is whispering wildly and you can only pick up a few snippets of words here and there that do not help you at all. The longer you stay among them, the worse you get. However, you are abruptly freed from this bad feeling when a loud shout echoes through the corridor all of a sudden.

"All students have to go back to their rooms immediately! There is nothing to see here", you recognize Armando Dippet's, the headmaster's, voice in the exclamation that silenced everyone.

But due to the fact that the headmaster himself is here right now, the feeling of uncertainty returns inside of you because it cannot mean anything good if he has to be here at this late hour. Apparently not only you think that way, because suddenly the murmuring around you gets louder again.

Across the hall you spot Dippet and several other teachers, including Dumbledore, who are currently trying to hold the students back. At first it is quite difficult for you to see from what exactly they are holding them back, but in the next moment you notice the door to the girls' bathroom and how it opens.

An unknown person steps out of and you catch a glimpse through the now opened door to a stretcher with a white cloth on top of it. You have to swallow hard at the sight, but you do not have time to see more as you are rudely pushed aside.

"It's Myrtle!"

"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened!"

The teachers from each house immediately begin to bring the students back to their common rooms after the exclamations, which is why you are pushed around even more now. Meanwhile you have already lost your friends in the crowd and the whispering around you is getting louder and louder with each second, so that you slowly but surely lose your orientation.

But suddenly everything around you falls silent when your gaze lands on him.

"Tom!", you loudly call out his name and try to somehow fight your way through the crowd. However, he does not seem to have heard you and just keeps staring in the direction of the bathroom before turning away to walk into the other direction.

Finally being able to free yourself from the crowd, you take a deep breath and follow your boyfriend as quickly as possible so that you do not lose him in the labyrinth of corridors and staircases.

"Tom! Wait!", you yell after him when you spot him at the end of an empty hallway. He flinches briefly before he turns around and recognizes you, relief written over his face.

Your steps echo loudly from the walls as you fall around his neck and deeply inhale his scent, calming you down right away.

"What are you doing here, Y/N? You should be on your way back to your dorm by now", he says with such tension in his voice that you immediately break the hug and get away from him, looking at him worriedly.

"What is it?", you ask him directly, his expression how you have never seen it before. Kind of obsessed.

"Nothing. What should be, sweetheart? I am fine", he assures you and places his hand against your cheek, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead which is apparently meant to calm you down. You softly press his hand back on your cheek with your own as he tries to loosen it.

"Somebody was murdered, Tom. How can you be doing fine? That is terrible!", you express frightened and look deep into his eyes, in which you can see nothing but a crazy twinkle. "There is something else that is bothering you. I can see it, Tom. Tell me."

Finally removing his hand from you, he stares at you for a moment, completely speechless. It just does not go into his head how you can see through him so easily, how you can detect everything within seconds. He was never used to beeing looked after by someone, but since you came into his life, his otherwise dark and cold soul started to feel a little bit brighter and warmer with each minute he has spent with you so far.

"Talk to me, Tom. They said something about the Chamber of Secrets. Have you not been talking about it for two weeks?", you mention and want to step closer to him again, but he immediately takes a step back and lets the cold of the night envelop your body.

"You wouldn't understand anyway", he scoffs, averting his gaze from you while convulsively clenching his hands into fists and all of a sudden he no longer looks like the Tom Riddle with whom you fell so deeply in love with.

"What did you do, Tom?", you shakily breathe out, fear flowing through your body because of the fact that might really have something to do with this. Since his response is taking an unnaturally long time to come, tears already form in your eyes, but your voice is failing you as you try to speak up.

"I finally made it, Y/N. I finally opened the Chamber of Secrets", he admits and your breath gets caught in your throat, the satisfied smile on his lips disturbing you. "I can finally sleep in peace again. It was amazing, Y/N!"

Staring at him in disbelief as he is basically enjoying what he has done right in front of your eyes, a tear finds its way down your cheek and you barely dare to say your next words.

"Please tell me that you have nothing to do with her death", you utter, hurt evident in your voice, and look at him with a heartbreaking expression on your face.

"It is not my fault that this stupid girl was in that bathroom, but believe me I would do it again every damn time", he explains in all honesty and tries to convince you that nothing is wrong with his actions. "I would open the chamber again every time, Y/N. I knew you wouldn't understand!"

In fact, yes, you could not for the life of you understand. None of his words make any sense to you. You have had this conversation many times already in the past. And every time it ended the same way: you were deeply hurt and he just left. For him everything revolves around his dream of becoming a Dark Lord who rules the whole wizarding world.

"Tom, you killed someone! Of course I do not understand! What do you expect from me? That I am happy for you?", you yell at him, now with much more anger than sadness in your voice.

"Well, yes. That would be an idea for once instead of trying to reprimand me again and again", he rolles his eyes in annoyance and gives you a derogative look.

"All I ever wanted was to protect you from doing something stupid that you may never be able to to reverse, but obviously I miserably failed", you sob as you cannot longer keep your tears under control.

"I never asked you to", he hisses with no emotion.

"I have always taken care of you and this is how you thank me!?", you angrily scream in his face, but he does not even move an inch. "Stop this stupid rambling about becoming a Dark Lord or.. Or otherwise I will never talk to you again, Tom."

"Then leave! I don't need you. Get out of my life!", he yells at you when he can no longer hold back his emotions and you feel your heart break in two, but do as he pleases and leave without another word.

Two weeks later and almost no one talks about the incident anymore, even though a fellow student was brutally killed. However, it is more than fine for you if it means that you will not be reminded of him and his hurtful words towards you every time.

"Hey, Y/N. You look so pale today. Is everything alright?", your friend asks you as she worriedly looks at your still full plate, which you have not touched yet, just like the weeks before.

With a forced smile you nod at her, signalising that you are fine, when in reality you are anything but fine. You have never felt this bad in your life.

Maybe you and Tom were just best friends and not meant to be, but you always felt a different kind of feeling towards him that was definetely beyond friendship. And for a while you even imagined that he could maybe feel the same way.

Oh, and how wrong you were.

Listlessly moving your meanwhile cold food around on your plate, you listen to the conversation of your group of friends who are animatedly talking about today's Quidditch game. But somehow your brain cannot process any of their words correctly since your thoughts keep wandering back to him.

You have not seen him since the terrible incident, neither in class nor in the hallways. Even though you forbid yourself it, you still worry about him despite everything that happened between you. You do not want to give him the satisfaction that he is still continuously on your mind, but you just cannot help it.

"Y/N! Will you be at the Quidditch game today as well? We want to make a detour to the lake afterwards", one of your friends asks you enthusiastically and without really thinking about it, you agree with a nod. A little distraction will not hurt you.

Later in the day, after your class in Muggle Studies, you make your way back to your dorm to prepare for the Quidditch game later. Stepping up the stairs you spontaneously decide that you want to let your thoughts dangle a bit more so you make a detour through Hogwarts to get to the courtyard to get some fresh air.

With your books tucked under your arm, you run down the stairs and slowly walk through the long corridor to the clock tower. With your gaze focused on the deserted hallway in front of you, you are about to reach the junction to the courtyard when a person steps into your field of vision. A person you did not expect.

At the other end of the corridor is none other than Tom himself, who, just like you, abruptly stopped walking when he spotted you on the other side. For a short moment you stare at each other from the distance.

This moment does not last long when the painful memories appear in your head again. You lower your gaze to the floor, avoiding eye contact, press your books against your chest as if they could protect you as a shield, and turn to the courtyard.

Fortunately, you do not hear any footsteps behind you and you assume that he does not dare to follow you, which is why you slow down your pace and take in a deep breath when you arrive outside. There is no one around, only the birds happily chirp over your head, until you hear loud steps behind you all of a sudden.

"Y/N!", he calls you and you freeze in your movement, your heart racing.

With shaking hands you turn to him, despite the countless warnings in your head. Tom is only a few meters away, a sad look on his flawless face.

You do not say a word, just wait for what he has to say to you. If he even has anything to say at all.

"I am so glad I found you", he exhales heavily and runs his hand through his brown hair. You immediately notice the dried blood on his hand.

"You are bleeding", the words pour out of of you unintentionally, obviously showing him that you still care about him after all. You prevent yourself from thinking about the cause of his injury.

"O-Oh, yes. Well, that is not that bad", he laughs nervously, but your eyes stick to his injured hand until he hides it behind his back. "We need to talk, Y/N."

"What is there to still talk about? I have nothing to say to you."

"I know", Tom sighs, not quite sure what to say himself. Silence spreads between you again until you break it with a loud scoff.

"Good. If you have nothing to say either, then I can go", you accuse him before walking past him, but you are promptly grabbed by the wrist and pulled back.

"I love you", he confesses out of nowhere and even though these are the words that you always wanted to hear so bad, tears form in your eyes and you angrily swat your hand out of his grasp.

"That is not fair, Tom! You can't just tell me something like that after you broke my heart and destroyed our friendship!", you whine and quickly wipe the tears away as he gets closer to you.

"I was so damn stupid, Y/N. I did not know what I had until I lost it", he explains dejectedly and watches how one of your tears slowly rolls down your cheek. "I am so sorry. I am not worth crying for."

"It is too late for that now", you sob and want to turn away again when he suddenly grabs your face with his hands and pulls you into a gentle kiss that says more that words could ever express. And the worst part of it is that you do not fight against it, you just let it happen. You might even enjoy it a little even though this is definetely not how you imagined your first kiss with him to be.

"I really love you, Y/N. I realized it now", he whispers after he broke the kiss, a small smile on his lips because you did not reject him.

"Tom-", you try to answer, but he stops you by laying his finger on your lips.

"I know what you want to say. I closed the Chamber of Secrets again and finished thinking about becoming a Dark Lord once and for all. Your are much more important to me than that", he tells you and you can cleary hear out the sincerity in his voice.

He is back. Your Tom is finally back.

Happily, you jump around his neck and tightly squeeze him, wettening his cloak, and in the next moment you punch him hard against his chest. Laughing, he takes your hand in his and places a kiss on top of it.

"Now please tell me what you did with your hand and do not lie to me, I warn you", you admonish him while he lets you take his hand to have a closer look at his small injury.

"You wouldn't believe me if I said that I wanted to get you flowers, right? But funny thing is that it is exactly what I tried."

522 notes · View notes

americasmarauders · 3 years

Text

in your eyes - Bucky Barnes

author’s note: so remember when I said I wouldn’t write Bucky anymore, only that one time? yeah, so I said, you know, like a liar. I saw the first episode of falcon and the winter soldier and that was all it took for me to fall into the ‘bucky barnes simp’ hole all over again. I made an entire one shot based on a single piece of a dialogue from the first episode. the story starts right before the first episode and ends right after the last. I spend an entire month and a half working on this please give it some love.(pls reblog i beg of you) Huge thanks to @batarella and @glorified-red for beta-ing this. ily <3 hwo knows, if people love it enough I might give a part 2.

summary: her quiet job in the library got louder when Bucky walked into her life. (Bucky Barnes x telepath!librarian!reader)

WARNINGS: i do write a bit about addiction in this, if it makes you uncomfortable, please do not interact. it’s not heavy, or graphic, but the reader does experience abstinence. be warned. no spoilers for tfatws, but i do reccomend you watching it.

words: 11,416

mastelist

It was all so loud usually. When she first discovered her ability, it was like there were suddenly a thousand voices yelling inside her head all at once. She remembered falling to her knees, clutching her ears and crying out as the voices shouted different things at her.

Then the Professor came, promised her to help control her own mind. She didn’t want to trust the guy, even if he said he had the same power as her--even if he said everything would be alright. But the headaches were getting worse, the voices were getting louder and louder. She took him up on it and left her home to live in his boarding school.

She met interesting people and--at the end of her stay--she achieved what she was there for. It took 4 years of her life, constant nightmares from reading too much of her colleagues' minds, and several isolated afternoons - more than she wanted to admit. Nevertheless, she could finally go to a concert or have a normal college class without crying from pain.

She lived a normal life after her time at the Institute. She mostly ignored how her teenage years were far from the ordinary, or how sometimes she could hear a random thought from the person sitting next to her if the thought was loud enough. There were days when everything got too much, days where she lost control. She would stay in her house with noise cancelling headphones on (even if it didn’t work like that, it somehow helped) just going on throughout her day as quietly as possible. Tom knew she would get sick, even if working at the library rarely made her go into her lockdown modes.

The library calmed her in a way. The thoughts were rarely disordered and loud, more focused and quiet. It fascinated her that even in their thoughts, people respected the quiet environment the library required. But sometimes, someone would appear with a troubled mind, something books couldn’t even soothe.

There was a regular now, he was one of those people whose thoughts were always all over the place; she couldn’t pick them apart, words would fly through her head - words she often associated with the book he was reading. She wouldn’t know, it was Nancy that talked to him most times.

He always sat at the same old, worn out armchair, talking with the older people in the library as if they were the only people he was comfortable with. Sometimes, she would be restocking the books and see him looking at old newspapers. She never got the courage to talk to him. She figured her curiosity wasn’t enough to muster up the bravery needed to utter a word to him.

Tom was on leave that day. He was stalling his doctor’s appointment, telling her his back pain wasn’t that serious, but she knew better. Every so often she would hear a whisper of pain in her head and she knew her boss wasn’t alright. It had taken her months, but she finally convinced Tom to go and get his back looked at.

So she was working the counter that day: checking books off, admitting them, and then separating them so she could reshelve the books the next day. It was pretty boring work, repetitive, and she wondered how Tom kept busy all day when she finished all of her chores in a couple of hours.

“Excuse me,” she heard, standing up as a reflex. Her eyes trailed up to the person standing in front of the main desk. It was the Loud Man (that was what she had taken to calling him). “I want to check this off.”

“Yeah,” she said, breathless. She was hearing too much from him, too many random words. It made her feel dizzy. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

She took the book from his hands, her fingers brushing slightly at his leather gloves, her thoughts suddenly got even more flooded at the slight touch. She could feel a rising nervousness in him, so much it blended with her own nerves. She quickly retrieved her hand, hoping she hadn’t seemed impolite.

She sat back at her chair, looking at the book. “The Hobbit, huh?”

“I’m re-reading it,” he said, his eyes sincere, “I read it when it first came out.”

She looked at him funnily. “You read it in 1937?”

His expression froze, the slight smile morphing into a frown, his loud thoughts got louder with a single word: ‘lie’. “That’s a funny joke.”

She smiled at him, not taking his comment too seriously. “I’m a funny gal.”

He laughed, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. It was like he was only checking off a box of social convention. It quickly faded to an impatient expression, and she could tell he wanted to get out of the situation as quickly as possible.

“I haven’t seen you here before,” he mentioned.

“Oh,” she muttered, “I’m usually reshelving things, Tom operates the front desk but he went to the doctor. I’m the only other person who works here, so,” she trailed off, “I’m Y/N.”

“Bucky,” he responded, his face slightly tensed. His eyes hovered over everything in the library, as if he was trying to find something wrong in it.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky," she handed the book back to him. "It's due next week. Don't be late with it.”

“I'll return it tomorrow,” the words slipped from his mouth.

“Fast reader?” she asked.

“Got nothing else to do,” he shrugged, the word ‘lie’ once again swimming in her head in the mess of thoughts she received from him.

He gave her one last smile and disappeared into the library. His thoughts got distant, but they lingered in her head. Flashes of pain, bright white lights, and screams littered her mind. She shook her head trying to get rid of them. It rarely worked, not with thoughts so persistent.

Her head started to pound as the thoughts got more intense somehow. That never happened before, usually she could only hear people that stood near her and she was sure Bucky walked all the way to the back - he wasn’t close to her in any way.

Her hand shook as she fished out her headphones. She put them on and connected them with her phone. Playing her music was a hopeful distraction, detering her brain enough to quiet down everything. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out slowly, just like the Professor had taught her. He used to say a quiet and strong mind was the key to ward off stray thoughts.

It helped clear the thoughts, the mess of words only leaving whispers of broken thoughts in the way. She grabbed those and put them away, shoving them inside a mental box of lost thoughts. She did that with all the others, it helped keep her mind organized.

She didn't know how much time had passed when she opened her eyes. She always took too much time clearing her mind, she would forget the outside world. Peter used to poke fun at her for that, drawing penises on her face. When she came to her senses she would always run after him, ready to tackle him to the ground. It was always useless: you can't outrun Peter.

She noticed Bucky leaning on the frame of the front door. It was getting darker outside, an orange hue illuminating his eyes perfectly. Her breath hitched for a second before recomposing herself.

“Good nap?” he asked, the smallest smirk on his lips.

“I wasn’t napping,” she smiled, shaking her head. She checked the clock and saw it was way past closing time. It didn’t go unnoticed by her that he had gone out of his way to stay with her when he should have gone home. “Why’d you stay?”

“Everyone left,” he said, “and I thought it wasn’t safe to leave you in a trance alone in an empty library.”

“I wasn’t in a trance,” she took her headphones off, resting them around her neck, “I was… clearing my head.”

He looked at her funnily, “Busy day?”

“It’s been weirder than usual,” she responded, smiling. She sat back down and logged off the system.

“How weird is working in a library?”

She scoffed, lighty. “You have no idea,” she smiled mischievously.

She picked up her things, keys in her hand. She left the front desk, going to Bucky’s side. “Thanks for staying,” she said, “You really didn’t have to.”

“It’s no problem,” his hand brushed the back of his neck with a timid smile, very unlike his general physique and stance, “I had nowhere else to go.”

She could feel his thoughts bubbling underneath her skin, wanting to come out and flood her brain with confusing images and words. Whispers of faint words echoed through her mind, soft enough that she couldn’t distinguish what they were.

“I find that hard to believe,” she said, words slipping out of her mouth faster than she could stop it. Old habits she supposed. She could always keep thoughts of other people to herself, it didn’t seem fair to them she could hear their thoughts, the least she could do was keep them to herself. But when it came to her own, they just came out of her mouth before her conscience could stop her. “I mean,” she started, “a guy like yourself - good looking and all - must get a lot of people just, um, throwing themselves at you.”

He breathed out, an awkward expression on his face. She could hear one word clearly: ‘lie’. “I don’t date a lot,” he stated, “Not really my thing.”

She changed her approach to the conversation, sensing the uncomfortable energy he oozed. “Oh,” she muttered, “It’s okay, I mean, I don’t date a lot either. I barely leave my flat actually,” she brushed a single piece of hair out of her face, “I hate crowded spaces, and I have just the weirdest habits. You know, not a lot of people are into women who work at a library and barely make minimum wage,” she mumbled, her hands in her pockets restraining her hands for gesturing too much just like she always did, “I have a lot of issues too, at least that’s what the Professor used to say to my therapist before each session, which is fair and--oh God, I’m sorry, I just rambled.”

He chuckled (an actual chuckle), a full light-hearted laugh, one that rumbled throughout his chest. “It’s fine,” he said, “I like listening to you talk.”

She heard the words ‘like’ and ‘quiet’ shoot through her mind. She smiled at him shyly, looking down at the ground. “I don’t know how to respond to that,” she laughed awkwardly, “Thank you again, for waiting and being, I don’t know, just nice, I guess.”

He smiled, a slightly bigger smile then he had given her the entire time they’d interacted. “Yeah, yeah,” he shook his head, “No problem.”

Both of them walked out the door. She turned and locked it, then pushed a button that activated the security systems of the building. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she said whilst shrugging.

“Yeah, yeah,” he went down a few steps of the main staircase. “I’ll see, uh, see you tomorrow.”

She saw him go down the steps, listening to the faint echoes of his thoughts in her head. She felt the tips of her mouth curl up, watching him go as the sun set on the horizon. She hadn’t felt that before, that sense of mystery, of wonder and curiosity. His mind was in shambles, broken pieces of it laying in every corner of his brain, and she heard all of it. It compelled her, even if it felt completely wrong to be so enthralled by someone’s mind.

She felt inadequate for liking his mind when he didn’t even know she could listen to it. It wasn’t the first time she felt that way. She remembered a boy from the shop near the Institute, she loved hearing his thoughts. She rarely left the Institute, but when she did she would always sneak to the store to buy a popsicle as an excuse to admire him. Sometimes he would smile at her and her brain would malfunction for just a second, his thoughts flooding her and overwhelming her every time that happened.

She anticipated it was only a matter of time before that happened with Bucky again. She didn’t exactly know if that was a good thing, if she should indulge in the latent curiosity and table herself further with his mind - with him.

The sun set in the horizon, the orange glow fading to the blue of the night sky. Walking down the streets, she could still hear remnants of his thoughts inside her head, his imprint already set on her. She wondered how long it would take for it to fade, if it would fade and if she wanted it to. #

He gave her one last look before walking away from her. She could feel him uncomfortable, it lingered in her head longer than it should. He lingered in her more than he should. Her eyes followed him on his way out of the library. His mind was confused and tired, it left a trail of breadcrumbs calling for her to solve the mystery that was.

Tom’s doctor ordered maximum rest. Apparently, the problem in his back was more serious than both of them anticipated. The doctor ordered as much rest as Tom could have, meaning more breaks and leaving early. That also meant she had to do double the work - she wouldn’t mind at all had she not left a pile of returned books to shelve.

She put her headphones and drove the cart full of books through the library all afternoon. Usually not a lot of people came in on a Monday afternoon to check out books, most were local teens that were there to study or make out. She always pretended not to know which ones were there to actually study or not; the thoughts always flew out to her when they were there to snog, most times it was hard to contain the shit-eating grin that would want to rise.

She felt someone touching her shoulder. She jumped slightly, startled at the touch. Turning around, she saw Bucky, his thoughts overwhelming her. She rested the headphones around her neck, pulling out her phone to pause the music. “Hey, Bucky,” she breathed out, trying to contain the images and words in her head, “What are you, um, how you doing?”

“I’m good,” he smiled at her, looking down at the ground, “Um, Tom’s not at the front desk and I gotta return the book.”

“Oh yeah,” she took the book from his hand. It was still warm from his touch, “I thought you wouldn’t come today, to be honest.”

“I said I was,” he looked at her intensely, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Well,” she smiled awkwardly and averted her eyes to the ground, “People sometimes say things they don’t mean.”

She didn’t realise what she said until it was out of her mouth. She remembered how he was uncomfortable around her, and how he would think about lies just as he told her something. Embarrassment flooded her senses, she felt heat rising to her cheeks.

He looked at her weirdly, as if he was analyzing her. The more he looked, the more she listened to his mind. Words of suspicion floated around, she swallowed dryly and nervously at the thoughts. Echoes of screams and a crushing sense of guilt came through, she wondered what had happened for him to think of that. She wondered if she was the one person that caused him to think like that.

“I’ll return it for you,” she said, motioning for the book, trying to get the attention off of her.

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, “D’you mind if I get another?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” she said, “I’ll wait for you - at the front desk, I mean,” backing away from him, she accidentally bumped into a bookshelf, “Not, um, not any other way.”

He stared at her and nodded slightly. She turned around and walked to the front desk, cringing at her inability to mutter coherent words to him without stumbling in the middle of a phrase. Something about him made her lose all of her composure, she didn’t know if it was the constant flood of thoughts and memories she listened to from his mind or just him making her nervous.

She sat down at the chair behind the front desk, and rubbed her face, as if it would rub the embarrassment out of her. Sighing, she returned the book for Bucky. Just as the day before, his thoughts lingered in her head, images that meant very little to her were calling out.

“Why’s Tom not here?” he asked. She looked up at him, his blue eyes piercing through her. It was the first time she noticed his eyes, and somehow, it made everything worse. Instead of whispers, she heard everything clearly. Fools said the eyes were the windows to the soul. She knew better: someone’s eyes told her what they were thinking, what they were feeling. And she could tell Bucky felt a lot.

“Um,” she looked back down to the book she just admitted back, moving it to the pile of books to reshelve. “He’s on leave, doctor’s orders.”

“Back pain was somethin’ serious then?” he responded, handing the new book to her.

“Yeah, I told him to get that checked out, turns out I was right,” she shrugged, getting the book, her eyes still fixated on the computer. She felt the leather of his gloves graze the tips of her fingers, and a searing pain shot through her head. She brought the book down to the table, closing her eyes hoping the pain would stop. “Brave New World? Revisiting the classics, huh?” she struggled to keep a whimper from emerging from her mouth.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. She heard a whisper of concern run though his head, “Um, are you alright? You don’t look very well.”

She shook her head, faking a smile, pretending she wasn’t getting a thousand thoughts from everyone in the library- especially Bucky’s thoughts - blasted at maximum volume on the speakers of her mind. “Just a bit of a headache.”

“It looks serious,” she could hear the leather from his gloves squeaking as he rested his hands on top of the counter.

“I’ll be fine,” she gritted through her teeth. It had been years since she was last in a position like that, her head throbbing with thoughts that weren’t hers. “I have these all the time.”

She heard his thoughts of concern louder than the others. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

She dismissed his question, not wanting to dwell on his concern longer. “Here,” she handed the book back to him, her other hand closed in a fist, “it’s due next week. Don’t be late with it.”

“I won’t,” he said, his tone slightly strained. “I’ll return it tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she shook her head, her eyes closed and teeth gritted, choosing not to question how he would return that book tomorrow. She fisted both of her hands, her fingernails sinking in the skin of her hands. “Yeah, it’s fine,” she whispered to herself.

She heard his footsteps moving away from her, she sighed in relief, hoping it would mean her mind was going to calm itself and the headache would fade. Instead, the footsteps grew closer to her once again and then the leather of his gloves was grazing the skin of her arm, helping her stand up and guiding her somewhere.

“Imma take you to the hospital, doll” Bucky stated, not leaving room for discussion.

“No,” she tried to shake off his hold, “My shift’s not over, I can’t leave.”

“You look terrible, and you’re clearly in a lot of pain,” he grabbed her arm again, “You need to go to a doctor.”

“Doctors won’t solve this,” she once again freed herself of his hold taking a step back from him. More of his thoughts flooded her mind, a mess of memories and guilt overwhelming her. “They never solve anything,” she breathed out, her voice breaking, “I just need to rest.”

“Doll,” he dragged, his tone temptive and careful.

“No doctors,” it was the first time she had looked in his eyes willingly. There was a sort of weird determination in her eyes, one that came with years of terrible experiences with doctors. Hundreds of appointments that left her more desperate than before, endless tests and thoughts heard that she didn’t have any fix, as if she was broken in the first place.

His jaw tightened and his intense eyes fell upon hers. Her throat dried up under his gaze, her head unbearably heavy with his thoughts and hers. “Fine,” he growled, his hands moving to the pockets of his jacket, “Fine.”

“I need to go back to work,” she backed away from him, slowly. “I--I’m sorry,” she whispered, not sure why she was apologizing to him.

“It’s okay,” his jaw was still tight, his eyes were still intense lingering at her. She couldn’t even appreciate his gaze at her, and how if she was a normal person,--if she didn’t have that goddamn gene--she would have let her heart skip a beat and feel coy under his gaze. “It’s your choice.”

There was a stubbornness to his stance, something that told her he wouldn’t be backing down so easily. She couldn’t go to any doctor, she couldn’t risk anyone finding out. She didn’t want to go through the tests and the never-ending questions, whether it was out loud or not. There was only one person who could possibly help her, and she refused to go to him.

She backed away from him quickly, turning around and heading to the front desk once again. Her headphones found their way to her ears, and she started to blast her music at full volume, hoping, or rather praying, it would help ease her headache. She put her phone in her back pocket, grabbed the book she had just returned.

The cart wove between the shelves with ease under her direction. She could still feel Bucky’s presence within the library, it was like carrying an iron ball tied to her feet at all times. Unlike the day before, he was more troubled, he felt more things and more intensely. It was too much. She wondered what happened for him to be so restless.

The music hardly helped, it somehow made it worse. She couldn’t shake the tangled thoughts and think for herself, and the music disturbed even more. She dropped her headphones, frustrated. Her head pounded, desperation rose in her. She refused to call Professor, he would not help, he would only rub in her face that she shouldn’t have left. ‘This wouldn’t have happened if you stayed at the Institute, Y/N,’ she could imagine him saying if she closed her eyes.

“Are you better?” turning around, she saw Bucky, his hands inside the pockets of his jacket. His eyes were focused down, his shoulder slightly hunched. It looked like he was ashamed of asking her if she was alright, almost as if it was his fault that she was in pain. It was, but she didn’t hold it against him. She was certain it wasn’t his fault.

“Not really,” looking at him, she analyzed his expression. His jaw was tense, she could see his hands were fisted inside his pockets, “I just need to sleep.”

He nodded slightly. “You sure you don’t want anythin’?”

Her head tilted slightly and her mouth quirked up a little. She could tell he wanted to charm her, she heard the word bounce around her head faintly--the guilt was louder, though she could barely hear anything else--and she would lie if she said she didn’t like his attention. “I am” her hands entangled together, her knuckles tight, “but thanks for the offer.”

“Yeah, yeah” he breathed out, his hand brushing the side of his leg in a nervous habit. “I need to go,” he pointed back at the door, his face stony.

She sat cross legged on her bed, her eyes closed. There were candles around the room, the lighting dim and warm. The smell of incense was strong, it swallowed the entire room. It was necessary, she needed that to ground herself to the real world, and not lose herself in her mind.

Since calling Professor was not an option, she tried to take matters into her own hands. She was going to untangle the knot of thoughts Bucky had left in her head by herself. It could potentially be dangerous, if she wandered too far who knows what could happen. She had taken the necessary precautions, but she had only done that before under the careful and judgemental eye of the Professor. It was the first time she was doing it alone, it scared her to think what could go wrong.

She breathed in calmly and concentrated on the knot in front of her. Her head was a whole other world, it could be molded to her will, she felt safe in it. Now, it was a black empty space, the only thing filling it was herself and the pulsating mess of thoughts Bucky had gifted her.

Kneeling in front of it, she carefully picked apart superficial thoughts, setting them aside. They didn’t matter to what she was there to do, they were only random words and snippets of his day-to-day life that she was sure were not the ones causing him so much pain.

It didn’t take long for her to reach what pained him. It was surprising to see the amount of thoughts in front of her, usually it was much less. People tended to blow things out of proportion often, little things could cause a world of hurt to themselves. Bucky seemed to take a lot of pain, underestimating his grief. A typical mentality of someone who lacked the confidence, who didn’t trust themselves enough.

She picked a single memory and entered it.

The lighting was dim, a yellow glow swallowed her. The room was dirty and disgusting, the tiles that were once white tinted an yellowish gray. It looked like a room used for medical procedures, judging by the sheer amount of medical-like instruments littered around the desks. There were no calendars in sight, she had no way of knowing when the memory had happened.

There were at least 5 or 6 people in the room, all surrounding a metallic chair. She approached the scene, carefully. Standing beside the chair, she saw Bucky.

He couldn’t be much older than he was when she met him. His hair was slightly longer than it was currently, just brushing his forehead. He was shirtless, his skin glistening in the faint lighting of the room. His hand was tied to the chair. His temples bruised from something she hadn’t figured out yet. His chest moved violently, struggling to breathe properly. And his left shoulder? There was a red swollen scar there. She doubted the wound was fresh, more like reopened. Maybe they tried putting a prosthetic there and it failed. It was likely they hadn’t administered any painkillers in the procedure, and she felt anger boiling inside her at the thought.

“James Barnes, 3255...” he trailed off, muttering under his breath. His eyes were halfway closed, it looked like he barely could keep them opened.

“Попробуй снова,” try again, one of the doctors said.

Her eyes lingered on the doctor that had just spoken. He looked evil, and she felt in her bones he was. His smile was wicked as his eyes lingered on Bucky struggling to catch his breath tied to that chair. All of the doctors looked sadistic and malefic. She felt goosebumps flood her skin, disgusted by the situation.

The machine started whirling. An appendix lowered into Bucky’s left eye, another lowering to his right temple. Someone put a protection on his mouth, and she could see Bucky trying to free himself from his ties. Something told her, even in an altered state of mind he was already conditioned to know that noise and that feeling were bad news. She swore she saw his eyes flicker to hers just before everything started.

The screams - his screams - bounced on the walls and filled her soul in a terrifying way. Tears came to her eyes as she carefully studied what was happening to him. His hands formed fists, his knuckles totally pale on his flesh hand. His eyes were shut violently, his mouth open in a painful way. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but she couldn’t. She wanted to hug him and take him out of that awful place, but she couldn't. It was all a memory, it already had happened and she couldn’t do anything about it.

The doctors recited words in russian repetitively. Her eyes traveled to the doctor holding a red notebook. The wicked smile never faltered, completely ignoring the man in pain in front of him. She felt a urge she had fought so hard to suppress: she wanted to invade their brains, pick them apart and tear them down from the inside. She wanted to scream and shout at them and destroy everything in the room with a single thought. The fact that she was inside a memory and couldn’t physically change anything bothered her little. The anger and sadness she felt were real.

The machine stopped humming and Bucky stopped screaming. When he opened his eyes, she saw something that utterly terrified her. His eyes were empty, devoid of emotion, very much unlike mere seconds before. They were wide open, focused forward, looking beyond the doctor that was hovering over him.

“Soldat?” one of the doctors asked, a wicked smile forming on his lips.

“Готовы соответствовать,” ready to comply.

The room became blurry and she was sucked out of the memory. She stood there in front of the knot of thoughts. A feeling of inadequacy overwhelmed her, and she willed herself out of her own mind. She shouldn’t have done that, not without his permission. He didn’t even know she could hear his thoughts, much less explore the memories he had left with her.

She gasped for air as she came back to her senses. Bucky was much more complicated than she had anticipated, and the guilt he carried around with him wasn’t blown out of proportion and unwarranted. He felt as if things he had done, whatever those things were, had been his responsibility. But she knew more about the mind than him, she knew that that person she had watched be tortured was not him. Those eyes told her nothing, and his eyes told her everything and more. Those eyes were from someone who was a puppet, stripped of free will and agency. So maybe his guilt was warranted, but it didn’t mean it was his fault.

She rubbed her face and laid in her bed, looking up at the ceiling. Her heart raced inside her chest, the adrenaline of doing something so wrong settling on her. She would have to be honest with him. She let a shuddery breath, as she realized she was at the point she avoided when meeting people. The fear of rejection was crushing and familiar and with time she realized it was easier to push people away, not forming connections deeper than trivial than to explain what she was. But Bucky was different, she felt it in her bones. And she wasn’t willing to let him go. #

Tuesdays were fuller than Mondays, but only slightly. Maybe one or two more students came in, trying to get ahead of the curve and not procrastinate their studies more than necessary. The amount of work she had was enough to keep her busy throughout the day, even without Tom’s help.

She hummed the song in her headphones, weaving her way through the shelves, puting the few books that were returned that day back where they belonged. It was the part of her job that gave her the most pleasure. It gave her a sense of control and order, something that had lacked almost her entire life, especially while she was at the Institute. Professor had controlled everything back then. He controlled her and Peter and all the others to be something that most would not have chosen to be if given the choice. It made her feel helpless and tiny. But she had freed herself from that reality, much to Professor’s dislike. And now she could happily find her control in tiny things, like putting books back on their shelves.

“How come I always come when no one’s at the front desk?”, her headphones fell to her neck as she turned around to look at Bucky. He wore a shy smile on his face, clutching two books tightly in his gloved hands. His thoughts were quieter that day, but still present and loud. She doubted it was enough to give her a headache, but it was enough to leave a mark on her mind.

“Well, I’d say it’s just your luck,” the corners of her mouth quirked up. “Wanna check those out?” she pointed at the books in his hands.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. She started walking towards the front desk, Bucky at her tail. “So, are you better?”

“Yep,” she nodded, getting behind the desk and taking the books out of his hands, “Told you I just needed to rest.”

“Doll,” his head tilted, his eyes carefully analyzing her. She heard worry bounce around his head, “you looked like you were about to drop dead.”

She shook her head, a smile creeping its way to her face. “It’s more common than you think, it’s fine, Bucky, really,” dismissing his worry, like it was the best way to earn his trust. “For whom the Bells tolls? Really diving into the classics, huh?”

“Need some comfort,” he shrugged. “It’s been 80 years since I read these, it felt like the time to re-read.”

“80 years,” she dragged, “You look a lot younger.”

His face became briefly stony, his brain going haywire for a second before he relaxed and gave her an awkward laugh. “You’re a lot funnier when you’re not in pain.”

“Aren’t we all?” she slid the book over to him. “It’s due next week, don’t b--”

“Be late with it, I know,” he completed, “I’ll return it tomorrow. Like always”

She heard words of charm and flattery from his mind. It was a timid voice saying it, if she had been distracted she wouldn’t have heard it. Her eyes trailed downwards, her smile tiny and shy. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you’re lying.”

“How’d you know better?” his eyes narrowed at her and his head tilted to the side. She found it absolutely charming that he did that when he was confused.

“I read minds,” she said, seriously, her face impartial, very much unlike mere seconds before.

“That’s funny,” he laughed, pointing at her.

She opened an awkward smile at him, looking carefully at his expression. His mind told her he thought she was pranking him, being funny to charm him. She wasn’t. “I know you think I’m trying to charm you,” her eyes looking at her feet, her fingers entwined in a nervous habit, “but I’m not,” she finished, whispering.

She could hear confusion clearly in his thoughts. It wasn’t exactly at how she could read his mind, more to why she was telling him the fact. “I can hear your thoughts very clearly, they’re very loud,” she whispered. After all these years of experience with this power, it never got easier telling people about it. “And I didn’t think it was fair to listen to your thoughts - you think a lot you know? - all so loudly and clearly,” She couldn’t look at him, her eyes were still cast downwards in shame, “If you want to, I can explain how it is, we can go for a walk or whatever.”

She could feel his intense gaze on her skin, she didn’t dare to look up. Disappointment was one of the things she hated the most, one she had dealt with a lot. Seeing it in his face would surely break her heart, even if only a little bit. “Fine,” she heard him say it, airly, “But you’re paying.”

She looked up and his expression was impassive. But his eyes were twinkling with a sort of curiosity and wonder that could only mean good things. A weird sort of relief washed over her. She let out a sigh, her features relaxing. “Great,” she brushed a piece of her hair out of her face, “great,” she breathed out, “I just need to close this place.”

“I’ll wait.”

“Tell me what that boy’s thinking,” he said, pointing to a little boy by the pond feeding the ducks happily.

Her eyes trailed to the kid, trying to focus on him. It was an exercise she hadn’t done in a while, since she had left the Institute really. “He’s happy he’s with his dad,” she reported, “he doesn’t see his dad often and he misses him.”

“What about the dad?” his hands were in his pockets, his gaze locked on the dad sat on the bench just behind the kid.

“He’s guilty he doesn’t spend enough time with his son,” she added, her eyes following the posture of the man. His eyes were fixed on his son, watching his every move. It was clear he felt some sort of guilt towards his son, and it was easy to assume that by his stance alone--if you were observant enough. Bucky was, “He works two jobs to pay the child support. He can’t find time between them often.”

“How do I know that you didn’t just meet those people and they told you their life story?” Bucky questioned, his gaze intense and locked on her. They stopped beneath a tree, orange sun rays peeking from between the leaves.

“It’s the first time I've ever seen them,” she plopped down beneath the tree, crossing her legs childishly, “I barely leave my apartment.”

He stared at her, his gaze strong and judgmental. Huffing, he calmly got down and sat beside her, his legs spread out in front of him. He crossed his hands on his lap, and her gaze locked at his left hand. She wondered if the arm was still the same as the one she had seen in his memory. That arm sent chills down her spine, it was intimidating and terrifying, the red star staring at her menacingly. ��Why, though?”

“I can’t, really,” she shrugged. She looked up, her head tilting to the side, considering her words. “I have these lockdowns when I’m surrounded by too many people. It hasn’t happened in years but,” her eyes closed, the memories of the last lockdown she had flooding back at her. She saw her younger self falling to her knees in the middle of the Institute’s lobby, screaming and clutching her ears, “but it happens, and I’d rather not go through that. I’m not in speaking terms with the person that can help me and I’ll do anything to not talk to him again.”

His lips formed a thin line. A hum trembled his chest, his head resting on the tree behind them. “How much have you seen from…” his jaw clenched, his voice quiet and hesitant.

“Not much,” she dragged. “I stopped after I realized that I, um, that I was…”she found she couldn’t complete the sentence under his strong gaze. “It wasn’t fair to you for me to see anything, not without you knowing.”

“What did you see?” he gritted through his teeth, his eyes watery and sad.

“I saw,” she gulped, her voice straining with emotion as she looked deep into his eyes, “I saw you, um, tied to a chair. You were so out of it,” she shook her head, tears flooding her eyes, “you were mumbling your name and some numbers. And then,” she sighed, picking up strength to continue, “and then they - they broke you.”

“What else?” he growled, his hands in fists. His eyes were no longer sad, there was a latent anger in them. It made her sad that she was the cause of his anger, or rather the target.

“Nothing,” she shook her head, “nothing else. Nothing other than random words from your day to day.”

He considered her for a moment, his eyes hovering her face frantically. She tried her best not to listen to his mind, trying to focus on elsewhere, on someone else. But he was like a magnet, and she could help but to be attracted to him and his thoughts. Words of confusion, anger and infatuation floated in his brain and echoed in hers. “Can you turn it off? Your...thing?” he pointed to her head almost in disdain. She knew better than to believe his gestures.

“Not exactly,” she hugged her legs, her chin resting on her knees. “If I could, I would have, a long time ago.”

They remained in silence after that. He looked at the clouds, considering everything she had just told him. She looked everywhere but at him, trying to stray her mind from him. It felt impossible, he became her gravity center, and she couldn’t really escape it. She found that she didn’t want to.

“How did you get the…” he tried to find the right words, “the mind reading thing?”

She laughed at his silly phrasing. “I was born with it,” she looked down at her hands, her cheeks feeling hot. “Professor picked me up and took me to the Institute after I turned 13 because of it.”

“That sounds like a cute way of saying you were kidnapped by the guy,” he commented, his tone serious and his eyes on her.

“I wasn’t,” she tilted her head towards him, as if she was telling him a secret. “I went willingly, actually. The nightmares were getting worse and the headaches,” her eyes locked with his for a brief second as she brushed a piece of her hair out of her face, “well, headaches like yesterday’s are light ones compared to those. And the Professor, he promised to help me control it.”

“That doesn't sound suspicious at all,” she could hear him roll his eyes in disdain.

“He did help me,” she assured him, “but at the time, I didn't realize that it would come with a cost.”

“I’m guessing he wanted something out of you,” he inferred, “that you weren’t willing to give.”

“Something like that,” she responded, her voice vague and distant. Remembering the things Professor had planned for her made her scared and, most of all, angry. Angry he dared to think she would be so desperate to abide by his wishes. She had learned that following his plans brought her nothing more than frustration and loneliness, he robbed her and her friends of a stable childhood so they could become his pawns. “He wasn’t a good person.”

“I get that,” he whispered, his head down, looking at his hands. He opened and closed his left hand repetitively. The anger he had felt once she had told him what she had done came back, but directed towards someone else.

“Listen, Bucky,” she turned her whole body towards him. Her hands itched to grab his, but she knew neither of them were prepared to cross that line, “I’m truly sorry that I… couldn’t control myself. I figured that if I could decipher your thoughts the headaches would stop, but I didn’t realize how much you kept hidden,” she confessed, her fingers fiddling with themselves in a nervous habit. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, I want to give you a chance to tell me these things yourself, that’s why I told you.”

He looked at her for a moment before responding. “You told someone who you’d only known for a couple of days your biggest secret,” he recited, almost as if he had been rehearsing the line in his mind over and over, “because you felt bad.”

“Well, when you put it like that it sounds foolish,” she grumbled. “I know what’s like not to be given a choice, and I wanted you to have the choice to, you know, walk away from me,” she finished, her voice just above a whisper. She struggled to keep her tears at bay, a couple of them spilling and running down her cheeks.

“Why would I walk away from you?” he asked her, sincerity in his eyes.

“You wouldn’t be the first person,” her eyes were cast forward, looking way beyond the park. She didn’t bother cleaning the tears that were rolling down her face. “And you wouldn’t be the last, certainly.”

“Doll,” he dragged, his voice low and beautiful, “I wouldn’t.”

She could barely hear his thoughts over her own. She couldn’t think straight anymore, too many emotions flooded her own senses, it was all too much. Her hands rubbed her eyes, trying to rid them of the tears. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry.”

“It’s okay,” he shook his head. “But, seriously, don’t tell your biggest secret to someone you barely know.”

She laughed at his suggestion, her smile watery. “I won’t, don’t worry,” her head tilted to the side, her eyes carefully studying his face. It was the first time she truly took him in. His face was so wonderfully beautiful. His nose and his lips were perfect. But it was his eyes that would always fascinate her. So wonderfully blue and so beautifully deep. It was impossible to not fall in love with him with those eyes.

He got up and brushed his gloves on the sides of his pants. He offered her his right hand, “How’d you say we get that coffee now and you tell me the craziest things you’ve ever seen people think?”

She smiled sincerely at him, her eyes looking up at him in admiration. She took his hand and she let him guide her.

“Doll, you need to start staying at the front desk,” he leaned casually on the side of the bookcase, looking calmly at her as she turned around to face him. “What if someone important comes in and there’s no one there?

She felt amused at Bucky’s teasing and smiled. “Tom’s supposed to be there, he must have just left to do something,” she stated, smugly. “Besides, you’re the only important person that comes here. At least, to me you are,” she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear.

He bit his lip and looked at her in a way that made her melt. “Aren’t you a charmer.”

She could hear clearly in his thoughts he was amused by her behavior, the word ‘charm’ levitating around her brain. “I learned from the best,” she shrugged brushing past him and walking towards the front desk.

She heard his heavy footsteps behind her. “Are we still up for tonight?” his voice had an edge that wasn’t there before. She sat down on her chair behind the counter as her eyes carefully analyzed his face. His jaw was tense, his eyebrows were furrowed and his fingers were tight around the book he meant to return.

“I’ve been up for it every day for the past month, Bucky,” she narrowed her eyes at him. His jaw clenched even more in a way she didn’t know possible. She tried to ignore his thoughts and the words that bounced around her brain. “What are you trying to say?” she asked softly, taking the book from him gently.

He sighed, resting his elbows on the counter he leaned in. “Sam needs my help,” he said, his voice low and tired. She could tell he wasn’t telling her the full truth, but she didn’t push it.

“Oh,” she muttered, typing away to return the book he brought. “So you’re cancelling?”

“Doll, I wouldn’t if it wasn’t important,” he stated. She could tell he was sad, his eyes told her so, and so did the words in his head. It pained her to see him give up their time together. It was cherished by both, and she suspected it was maybe one of the only moments of the day Bucky didn’t have to hold everything in. Mostly because she could see everything he was hiding.

“Don’t,” she stopped him before he could further apologize. “I understand, an Avenger’s calling you,” she whispered, a devilish smile on her lips, “how could you not answer it?”

“I can think of a lot of ways,” he gritted. He had told her his qualms with Sam Wilson, but it only seemed like friendly teasing and nothing else. Nothing too serious, that's what she judged it to be.

“Bucky,” she warned him, “there are more important people than me, and Sam is definitely one of those. Don’t feel guilty, that’s what I’m trying to say.”

“Y/N,” he never used her first name. He would call her ‘doll’, or ‘love’ or even sometimes ‘sweetheart’, but never by her first name. Hearing it leave his lips sobered her up quickly, “there’s no one more important to me than you.”

Her mouth hung open in complete shock at his declaration. Her brain short-circuited for a moment, before recomposing herself. She opened her mouth to respond him but he quickly beat her to it.

“I’m truly sorry, love,” he shook his head, his eyes cast downwards.

Her eyes hovered him quietly for a second before slipping the book to him. “I extended the due date. Two weeks and nothing more,” she said, sternly. “You know the drill, Bucky.”

“Don’t be late with it, I know,” he recited. His eyes lingered on hers for longer than it normally would. It felt as if he was memorizing her, studying the little details of her face, the little quirks of her personality. She felt heat rising to her cheeks, like every time she was under his intense gaze. He looked downwards for a moment, his mouth slightly opened. “I won’t be gone too long, just a couple of days.”

She got up from her chair and walked to his side. She bit her lip as he watched her go around the front desk. He leaned on his arm, casually standing there as she looked down at her feet in front of him. “You have my number, I’m just a phone call away,” she muttered shyly. She couldn’t handle this flirty interactions with Bucky. Mostly because she would have to juggle her own thoughts with his. But there was something about his demeanor at that moment that put her at ease, she didn’t feel the need to juggle both of their thoughts, only to embrace them. She let herself feel the butterflies and be fully flustered under his charm. It felt nice. “I’m gonna miss you,” she whispered.

“Yeah, me too,” he looked at her eyes, deeply and soulfully. She didn’t know how she hadn’t melted at the spot. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

The corners of her mouth quirked up. “I know,” her lips brushed his cheek. She quickly kissed it and looked back at him. “You should probably go. Don’t wanna keep Sam waitin’.”

He smiled at her one last time before leaving her. His smile, there was something different about that. It felt sincere and genuine, unlike all his other smiles that were usually caused by awkwardness and embarrassment. She had seen something completely different in that smile, something she couldn’t exactly place yet.

She arrived quietly at her apartment, carrying a bag full of groceries and flowers for her tiny garden out in the fire-escape. Her upstairs neighbor had complained about it for months, until he joined and now she shared it with him. She had plans to make the whole building to contribute to the little garden, she was almost convincing her downstairs neighbor and she was a pivotal person.

The apartment was too quiet, unlike normally. There were always whispers of her neighbor’s thoughts echoing through the walls, the busy sounds of the streets, the shouts outside from people going by their day.

“I know you’re here,” she shouted to her apartment, “you weren’t subtle about it.”

“I knew you wouldn’t talk to me, otherwise,” Professor rolled in. He hadn’t changed a single bit since the last time she had seen him. His clothes were the same, his bald head glistened the same way it did, and his chair was just as stoic as his face. She hated him and seeing him in her apartment only reminded her of that.

“That’s cause I don’t want to talk to you, Professor, I thought I had made myself clear,” she growled, resting the bag and the flowers on the kitchen counter. “Why are you here?”

“It has come to my knowledge you’ve been having your episodes,” he said, robotically.

“I’m not having any episodes, I'm fine” she muttered, her back turned to Professor. She cursed Peter mentally for being a fucking snitch. Next time she saw him she was going to give him a piece of her mind.

“You’re not,” he corrected her. As usual, she only heard him in a tone of superiority and condencense, he always knew best. “We know what happens when you let yourself go with other people’s thoughts, child.”

“Don’t call me that,” she gripped the counter, her teeth gritted and her eyes shut. Her hands felt clammy, almost slipping from the counter. She had escaped the Institute, she had sworn she would never go back, for fucking Peter to bring Professor to her again. She knew Peter did it because he was worried. It still didn’t make it sting less. “I said I’m fine, I have everything under control.”

“How long have you been taking the suppressing pills?” he asked her, his voice judgemental and cold.

She turned around to face him for the first time. He was impossible to read, he always made sure of that. As much as she begged him to teach her how to do it, to help her block out thoughts and stop people from getting into her head, he never really did it. She had to discover for herself, and, in that, she never was as effective as him. “It’s none of your business,” she scoffed. “It’s not like I’m of any use to you anymore, Professor. I’m sure you have a brand new shiny pawn you can play with that’s even better than I was. Besides,” she added, crossing her arms on her chest, “you gave me those pills.”

“They’re for emergencies only, Y/N, not continuous use,” he shook his head at her, his piercing through hers, She looked down avoiding his gaze, her jaw tight. Her head started to feel heavy, and she didn’t know if it was his prying or something worse. “Do you remember the last time you used those same pills continuously?”

Her teeth gritted and she closed her eyes to stop him from seeing the tears accumulating in them. She looked at him, her eyes completely angry and full of hurt, “I'm a lot stronger that I was back then,” she gritted.

“Bad things happen when you repress your power,” Professor warned, leaning on his knees. “You learned that the hard way.”

“I haven't taken them in days.” she stated, trying to keep her head focused and her voice free of emotion. Professor considered her for a moment. She could feel him prying in her head, searching for traces of a lie well told. She knew he wouldn’t find any, she told the truth, even if it was half of it.

“I know you’re not telling everything,” he told her, his hands fiddling with the orange vial temptevely. “What are you hiding?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes at him. When she was younger, she wouldn’t even consider behaving badly around him. Now, she knew better. “I don’t owe you any explanations, Professor. I don’t even understand why are you here,” she pointed accusingly at him. “You've done a pretty good job showing you don’t care all my life, I find it hard to believe you care now.”

His eyes found hers, as always completely unreadable. But she saw the little details, the way his jaw tightened slightly, the way his fingers opened and closed the cap of the bottle nervously. It was hard to tell if the tick was fabricated or not, she could never tell with him. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll be in touch,” he wheeled himself towards the door.

“Please don’t,” she said clearly as he exited her apartment.

As the door closed she let a shuddery breath, laying on her couch in exhaustion. She let a couple of tears fall from her eyes, quickly drying them after. She had cried because of Professor too many times in her life, she would not cry for him one more time.

Her phone vibrated on her back pocket. She sniffed and fished out, checking what was the cause of the notification. ‘Just arrived. Call me’ from Bucky. Her heart picked up, smiling at her phone happily.

It rang a couple of times before he picked up. “You’re late,” she said, before he had the chance to say anything to her, “you said a couple of days.”

“I’m sorry, doll,” he breathed out, “it took longer than anticipated.”

“It’s okay,” she shook her head, a smile on her face. “The book, though, you’re gonna have to pay a fee for being late.”

He laughed at the other end of the line. “First time I ever return it late, can’t you make an exception for me?”

“I didn’t do anything, it was Tom,” she stated quickly. Her lips adorned a permanent smile, so much it barely seemed Professor had just left her apartment. They stayed quiet before anyone said anything.

“I missed you,” he whispered, her heart racing in her chest as he recited the words.

“I missed you too,” she replied back, her voice soft and full of emotion. She tried to contain her tears, an accumulation of feelings from just before and that moment but she couldn’t. “I was so lonely, I’m so glad you’re back.”

“Me too, love,” he sighed on the other end of the line. She could imagine him looking down at his feet, a silly smile on his lips. His eyes were twinkling in her mind the way that melted her, he looked absolutely beautiful as usual. “Do you want to go out? I owe you 2 weeks worth of coffee.”

She looked at the ceiling, trying to contain her heart and failing miserably. “Yeah, yeah, I’d like that,” she breathed out.

“I’ll pick you up in 20.”

She hung up the phone and got up from her couch, a silly smile on her face. Her smile soon faded after she realised what she had done. She was only off the pills for 2 days, it wasn’t enough time for her powers to normalize. Without Bucky present, the abstinence wasn’t as noticeable. Sure, she could hear everything more clearly, the music her neighbor had stucky in his head, or the busy thoughts of a random person passing on the sidewalk. But Bucky always had a thousand things in his head, and that surely would be a problem.

She was telling the truth to the Professor. She wasn’t taking them continuously, only a couple of times a week, when Bucky’s thoughts were always the loudest. But she hadn’t told him that she had stopped so late, later than she should have. She was toeing the line again, just like she had done when she was a kid and the prospect of not listening to everyone all the time seemed too good to be true.

A sigh escaped her lips, her heart racing inside her chest, not for the right reasons. She hoped she could control it, keep her latent power at bay just like she did everyday. It was easy to fool herself like that. She forgot how addicting Bucky could be, how wrapped up in him she would get. It was almost an experiment: how would she deal with Bucky’s mind when her power was at the most raw. She wondered if she should be curious or scared.

Her hands sweated as she unpacked her groceries. A cold rush ran through her spine, and she remembered the symptoms she experienced the last time she was off the pills. Dread settled in her, anticipating what was about to come. She cursed Professor, her stupid mutated gene and those fucking pills. She often wondered what would have happened if she never manifested any powers, how her life would have played out.

Then, her senses were flooded by Bucky. She whipped around to the door, seeing the shadow of his feet lingering outside. Her head felt heavy and there was a pain blooming, something much worse than the ones she’d endured when she first met him. It was a side effect, she should have expected that. She leaned on her table for a moment, trying to get used to the pain. The knock echoed through her apartment. She barely registered it, his thoughts flooding her. It was all so incoherent, flashes of yellowed memories and newer ones ran through her head. She heard her name screamed in his head over and over again, his voice whispering pet names he had given her with images of their time together.

She opened the door and there he was, standing in front of her. He wasn’t wearing his traditional gloves, and he had dodged the leather jacket of a simple longed sleeved t-shirt pulled at his elbows. It was the first time she saw his arm being displayed so freely, so unashamedly. He wore a boyish smile on his face, holding a bouquet of yellow and purple flowers meant for her. “I brought you flowers,” he handed the bouquet to her, his eyes twinkling with a charm she hadn’t seen in him before. “You said you wanted to expand your garden,” he justified with a shrug, his eyes on the bouquet. The smile never left his lips.

She almost forgot about her symptoms, letting his charm encapsulate her and warm her heart. She accepted the flowers, their smell overwhelming her. She stepped aside for him to come in, he ducked his head and got in the apartment quietly. It wasn’t the first time he had been over, but it was still odd to see him in her place. It looked smaller with him in it, less lonely.

“Thank you,” she whispered, closing the door. Her hands glued to the plastic wrapping of the flowers. She wiped her other hand on her pants, gulping nervously. If before she thought his thoughts were loud, in that moment it seemed like they were being blasted in amplifiers at maximum volume. “How’ve you been?” she stuttered, her mouth dry.

“I’m good, good,” he laughed looking down, his hands on his pockets. She could tell he wasn’t lying, for the first time she asked him that question he actually answered it honestly. “How are you, doll?”

She grabbed a pot and some dirt to stick the bouquet in it from the cabinet under the kitchen island. “I’m okay,” she replied quietly. Resting the supplies next to the sunflower she had just bought, a wave of nausea washed over her. She felt the color drain out of her face, feeling lightheaded. Her hands gripped tightly around the backrest of a chair, trying to not collapse to the floor.

She heard him rush to her side, his hands supporting her. The cool touch of his metal arm was contrastant with how hot her skin felt at the moment. “You don’t look okay,” it was like he was yelling in her ear, but she knew his voice was barely above a whisper. “What happened?”

“I’m off my pills,” she gripped his forearms, her eyes shut close. She tried organizing her head, separating her own thoughts with the thoughts of others.

“Let me get them for you,” he guided her to the couch, gently sitting her down.

“No,” she reached for him, her voice dying in her throat. Her hold on his wrist was weak, her eyes closed. The light only worsened her headache, she couldn’t bear to open her eyes. “There’s none left.”

“What d’you mean there’s nothing left?” he asked her, his voice strained. She knew he tried to contain his worry, but it slipped out in his tone. If she wasn’t so sick, she would have appreciated his care. “It seems like something important to have.”

“Professor took ‘em,” her words slurred, “I can’t take more, Bucky.”

“Why?” he hesitated, “what happened?”

“My powers,” her jaw clenched at the sharp pain going through her head, “I just wanted to spend time with you, Bucky, but the pain…” the tears spilled from her eyes, her eyes still closed. The grip on Bucky was tight, she was holding onto him like he was her lifeline, the only thing grounding her to the real world and not her head.

He sat beside her, his hands hovering over her, unsure of what to do. She heard a sliver of guilt going through him, and sadness overwhelmed her because of that. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to her.

“No,” she shook her head, wrapping him up in her arms, “it’s my fault. You’re amazing, Bucky, and I couldn’t stay away,” her tears wet his shirt, her head resting on his shoulder snuggly. She couldn’t help but notice the safe feeling that overwhelmed her in that moment. It was almost like it was where she belonged, safe in his arms. “Your mind… it’s just so beautiful, you’re so beautiful, Bucky. And I was greedy, I wanted you to myself, even if it meant a little pain.”

“A little?” he asked, his voice laced with a sassiness she hadn’t seen before.

She laughed quietly, looking at his face. His blue eyes were sincere, full of emotion and thoughts she could never bring herself to decipher. “A lot,” she sighed, her eyes fixated on his. “I fell back into old habits.”

“I get it,” he assented, his eyes cast on hers, looking for something she didn’t quite know what it was. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Stay,” she whispered, her heart beating fast inside her. “Please, stay.”

And Bucky did. For the first time, someone who had met her, all of her, stayed with her. That only made her love him more. He hugged her tightly, his head resting on the crook of her neck. “I’ll stay,” he reassured her, his thumb caressing her shoulder gently, “I got you”

She mumbled ‘I’m sorry’ like a prayer on his shoulder. It was too much input, her own emotions and his blended and her tears were their escape. “I shouldn’t have unloaded this on you,” she sniffed, breaking the hug. “It’s not fair.”

“Hey,” he gently pushed her hands out of her face. Her face was swollen and her eyes were red, but she could tell he didn’t care, she heard the word ‘beautiful’ bounce around in his head. “I can take it.”

She shook her head, words unable to escape her quivering lips. “Hey, stop,” he said firmly but lovingly, “listen to me,” he grabbed her face delicately, his fingers brushing her cheeks delicately. “I can take it, doll. Trust me. I have my demons too,” he whispered, “and they don’t scare you. You don’t scare me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t look away from his eyes. The sincerity in them disarmed her completely, the little restraint she had completely gone. Her breath hitched at the sight of the glimmer in his eyes and the love in his mind. “Thank you,” she mouthed, her voice gone.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled at her, the boyish grin he had sported when he arrived back. “How about I make you some tea?” he got up, walking a few steps to the kitchen. He moved around like her tiny little flat was where he belonged. “I make a mean chamomile tea.”

She laughed quietly, her brain slowly calming down, her fever settling. “I’d like that.”

#Bucky Barnes #TFATWS #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #one shot #marvel fanfiction #Sebastian Stan #bucky barnes x librarian!reader #my masterlist

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sneezefiction · 3 years

Text

answers

oikawa x reader

desc: oikawa changes some lyrics in taylor swift’s song “love story”

a/n: please keep in mind that most of this is just humorous & there’s no serious characterization in this particular story. i laughed a lot while writing it :,,) for @cutiekawa because you gave me the idea; thank you for that! and also for @seroto-rin because this is very similar to your husband’s lyric changing habits lol – i still laugh whenever i think about it <3 warnings: language, mentions drinking/being drunk

wc: 3k

— It’s 2 am when you hear Oikawa pattering down the hallway and past your room. From the gentle footsteps and the occasional whisper of “shit” when the floor creaks, it's obvious that he’s trying to stay quiet.

But his attempts are in vain because, one, you’re wide awake and, two, he’s just knocked over an empty beer can from earlier. It was probably the one he’d left on the hall table – you’d told him to throw it away but he’d refused saying that he’d “throw it away in the morning when his arms weren’t so tired.”

This is just karma.

The clatter of the aluminum on wooden floors echoes throughout the dorm. A much louder, especially frustrated, “fuck” follows right after it.

The word, though crass, sounds deceptively attractive on his tongue. But most things Oikawa-related just happen to be attractive.

You muffle your laughter with a blanket. He’s probably disoriented from the alcohol – it’s only been an hour and 5 drinks each since you both called it a night. You’d headed straight to bed but he’d fallen asleep on the couch where you left him, hair a-mess and lips parted.

But, for someone who used to stay out till daybreak on weekends, he’s spent most Fridays hanging out with you instead.

This weekend was no different.

Oikawa ordered Thai takeout, you found a mindless Netflix series to binge, both of you had a little too much to drink, laughter ensued, the doe-eyed boy found his head in your lap, and…

You pull a face – one that goes unseen because of the dark, but you make it anyway.

Okay, that last part was a little different.

He’d had his head in your lap.

His head… in your… lap.

And, if you’re not mistaken (or delirious), you’d had your hands in his hair, twirling strands and tracing circles at the base of his neck. A foggy image of him gazing up at you with softened eyes, deep chocolate in color, begins to solidify.

That lazy smile, a hand on your thigh, tresses tickling your skin...

You turn over in your bed, bunching up your sheets and holding them close to you like a shield of fabric — a flimsy, make-shift defense against tipsy mind-wandering. It isn’t very effective.

Your brain is not wandering but racing around this hand-in-hair realization.

Like an iron rod poking at hot embers, these prodding memories make your cheeks grow hotter by the millisecond. You bury your face in your pillow, embarrassment tight in your throat.

Somehow you’d forgotten that he’d practically climbed into your lap. You’re not in the clear quite yet, but your brain is functioning well enough that it wishes you’d had a little more to drink – just enough to forget about it entirely. You starfish out on your bed, arms and legs dramatically splayed across the mattress.

Do (hot, charming, charismatic, windswept) flatmates usually get this... cuddly? Is that normal?

Does Iwaizumi wrap his arms around his roomies after a long day and a few bottles? How about Mattsun? Makki…?

Okay, no, none of them really seem like the type to get up close and personal with their roommates without good reason. Well, maybe Makki, but he’d do it to be a pain in the ass – not to charm the living-hell out of someone.

You try to take in a deep breath and wrap your head around what this means for you… but end up inhaling a feather from your pillow instead. As you hack and cough, you try to smother the noise in more cloth material – you really didn’t need him coming into your room, much less leaning over your bed to check on you.

Oikawa is messing with your head.

If you knew any better, you’d have run away screaming the moment he’d asked you to room with him. No one that pretty and charismatic is good news. At least, not when it comes to shared housing.

But, here you are, writhing under the covers and hot like a fever all because he couldn’t keep to himself. Screw him and his charming smile for putting you in this position.

He either knows you’re crushing like he’s the last man on earth or he’s blissfully unaware and way too physically affectionate for his own good.

You don’t dare consider that he likes you back though. Only deer and Olympic athletes made leaps like that. Oikawa had too many admirers… an irritating amount.

The blankets scrunch even tighter between your fists, likely thanking their maker that they don’t have nerve endings.

Every fiber of your being is begging to know if these feelings are reciprocated. You’d hate to live out the rest of this semester knowing the boy down the hall may not like you back. Worse, that he finds out you think he’s hot shit and doesn’t like you back – that would be unrequited love at its finest.

But, with a degree and your mental health on the line, why should you care about such minor, itty bitty, pointless details.

This isn’t that big a deal.

And even if he did like you back? Well, Oikawa isn’t someone you can simply “pin down.” He comes with a distinctive, dramatic personality and a meddling side. Not to mention, he’s already the embodiment of chaos – he’s proven this to be true over the past 4 months he’s lived with you.

There’s a familiar squeak of the shower faucet handle and the hiss of hot water. You jump at the sound.

Maybe he’d forgotten, but your bedroom shares a very thin wall with the bathroom. Though you recall him saying he wanted to take a shower earlier, so you guess that he’s only just remembered.

You pick up your phone, blue light casting a less-than angelic glow on your sleepy face. You pray that TikTok will have some sort of life-changing “I’m in love with my hot, crazy flatmate” advice. Or that it will distract you from your inner turmoil. Either would be appreciated but the latter seems more likely.

Scrolling slowly, you get through about 3 videos before something else catches your attention.

There’s a deep reverberation buzzing through your wall. A gentle hum, much like a shower-concert lullaby.

But the noise is getting louder. And the humming? A lot more lyrical.

You shift into a sitting position, propping yourself up with your hands. With your side sunken into a pillow, you press your ear against the cool drywall. Your ears tune into the sound.

Oikawa, voice confident and free, is… singing.

“...But you were everything to me, I was begging you ‘please don’t go’…”

But he’s not just singing.

“And I said…”

He’s belting Taylor Swift with the enthusiasm of an 11-year-old Swiftie super-fan. Like the world would end if he didn’t put enough passion into this performance. Like the showerhead is his microphone and the surrounding tiles are his adoring audience.

“Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone. I'll be waiting; all that's left to do is run...”

Most people would be pissed if their friend were singing in the shower at 2 am… but you can’t find it in yourself to be anything but enamored.

God, you hate him for doing this right now. Hate that he’s inadvertently endearing you to him. Hate that, no matter what you do, he’s somehow always there.

Pressed up against you on the couch, meeting you for dinner at his favorite restaurant, fussing at each other over a shitty cup of coffee in your even shittier kitchen, calling you when he needs somebody to keep him company at the library…

“You'll be the prince & I'll be the princess…”

And now he’s accidentally serenading you with Taylor’s “Fearless” album. In the shower.

You facepalm, sinking into your hands, exasperated and just so… done.

You sink back down into the bedsheets, wishing your earbuds were nearby to drown out the regrettably adorable performance.

“It's a love story y/n, just say ‘Yes.’”

And your heart drops, panic setting in like the touch down of a whirling tornado. A fire tornado. A fire tornado with frogs and lizards and sharp objects spinning around inside of it.

What… did he just say?

The lyrics… they were muffled. You definitely heard them incorrectly. You… you just need to get your ears checked. Yes, that’s it. That’s all there is to it. You’ll schedule an appointment first thing tomorrow morning.

Because who the fuck sings like that at 2 am in a shared dorm? And who the fuck puts someone else’s name into a song like that? No one? Yes, no one.

Especially not the Oikawa Tooru.

And especially not with your name.

Because that’s just... weird.

The grip on your phone is mighty – thank God for durable glass because any other material would’ve splintered or shattered in your hold.

But what the hell.

“Y/n, save me, I've been feeling so alone,” he sings as though he were Beyoncé’s son.

This time it’s clear as day. Oikawa is definitely still out of it and he’s undoubtedly singing your name.

No, no, no.

“I keep waiting for you but you never come…”

You bolt out of bed, feet hitting the floor at lightning-strike speed.

“Is this in my head? I don't know what to think,”

In one swift movement, you fling the bedroom door open and rush down the hall. You shouldn’t be listening to this.

“He knelt to the ground & pulled out a ring, and said...”

And before you can stop your hand, it’s knocking rapidly on the bathroom door.

There’s a gasp, what you assume to a bar of soap hitting the shower floor, and an abrupt silence that follows.

You’d only wanted to stop him from singing.

However, you hadn’t thought through what you were going to say to him about this whole... lyrical mess. Your face feels like the surface of the sun, burning and flaring and flushing. What are you supposed to do now?

Oikawa speaks up, voice quiet, “Hello?”

Shit.

Maybe if you’re careful you can get yourself out of this. Just act like you didn’t hear anything and bring it up tomorrow when you’re both thinking straight. A thorough and sober discussion would be needed.

You had questions. Questions that needed answers.

Why did he have his head in your lap? Had you said anything to him that you’d regret later? Does he like you? Where should you two place your boundaries if he doesn’t like you back? And why Taylor Swift?

“Y/n, is that you?” He asks, nonchalantly.

Who else would it be?

The handle squeaks and, with that, the water stops. Only the gentle swirl of the drain and the occasional drips and drops from the showerhead are audible.

It’s too late. You’re already there. You’ve knocked and, in doing so, you’ve sealed your fate.

“...Yes,” is your whisper of a reply.

“What’s up? Was I too loud for you?”

You’ve got the entire building on high-alert singing that loudly.

...is what you would say if you weren’t currently imploding. This is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. And nothing you ever want to experience again.

“Um, yeah, sorry.” You look down at your shuffling feet.

The hallway is pitch black, hardly allowing for even a mere shadow. Rushing out of your room, you’d forgotten to turn on even a single light.

You hear him step onto the tile floor and the rustle of a tower from the bathroom closet.

“Wait, can we talk?” He asks as though it weren’t the question of the fucking year. “I mean, preferably after I get out of the bathroom.” There’s a lack of tact to his words.

This isn’t the charming Oikawa you’re used to. This is a blunt… confusingly straightforward Oikawa.

His tone wavers like maybe he’d had a little more to drink than you’d last remembered. Your memory was proving to be disappointingly unreliable tonight.

You swallow thickly, “Sure.”

Because what else can you say?

“Can I stop by your room in a minute?”

You take a deep breath, “Yeah.”

And you patter back to your no-longer very safe haven. Oikawa is about to infiltrate your space… with your permission. And the weapons he’ll bring will either harpoon you or leave you emotionally paralyzed – whether that emotional paralysis is a good or bad thing will be decided in the near future.

Your bed, though soft and blanket-covered, looks far less appealing now. It may as well be a bed of nails because you would rather hide beneath it than sit atop it.

But you sit anyway, letting the mattress dip and the springs twang.

The bathroom door cries as it opens, putting you on edge. Your heart is pounding like a drum at a summer festival – hotter and louder with every beat.

The trod of footsteps tells you he’s approaching and, sure enough, the open door reveals Oikawa.

With only a lamp to brighten the space, he’s more contoured than usual. His hair is wet and heavy against his head, taking on an even darker brown than before. You’ve seen him fresh out of the shower before, but this… is different. Oikawa’s shirt sticks to his chest slightly – he must’ve thrown it on without drying off fully to get to you faster.

He takes a few steps into your room, choosing to lean his back against a wall next to your work desk. Oikawa brings his hands behind his back, pressing his weight into them. Brown eyes flicker from you to the wall behind you and back again.

Naturally, tension lays thick as a fog in the air space.

“Hey, I’m…”

You cut him off, “You don’t have to say sorry! It’s… it’s okay.”

Oops, you’d said that a little too loud. Not that it mattered much after Oikawa’s passionate performance.

An eyebrow raises and confusion sparks across his face. Your body freezes.

He brings a hand behind his neck. “Oh, I was just gonna say that I’m still kinda drunk.”

You knew that much. Though you really thought he’d say something other than that. Preferably something about the, uh, devoted love-song?

Why is he acting so casual right now? Is this even Tooru? Had he read too many alien conspiracies and been abducted for learning too much about extraterrestrials?

Maybe he doesn’t realize you’d even heard him say your name in the shower.

“Oh... right.” You say slowly, lips staying parted at the end of your sentence.

“Which… probably isn’t good for either of us,” Different words drawl out and there’s a soft slur to some syllables, but at least he’s easy to understand, “me drinking too much, I mean.”

“Yeah,” you mutter.

“I think we should both just go to bed then.”

Your chest tightens. Of course, you want answers.

They’re likely embarrassing, face-reddening, Taylor Swift-centric answers. But you want them, nonetheless.

Although, it’s probably for the best that you don’t bring this up tonight. It was all probably a joke or a harmless accident – and, anyway, he admitted to being drunk.

“Right.”

“But I think you should know that I like you. A lot.”

“Yeah,” you respond again, automatically.

There’s another heavy silence. The pretty boy just stares at you, cherry colors tinting his cheeks but showing no expression of fear or embarrassment. You stare back, processing his words at turtle-like speeds.

The words tumble out, “Wait, say that again?” You double back, your own face reheating to its earlier temperature.

“I’m gonna be mad at myself in the morning if I don’t leave right now. And I really need to stop listening to that stupid song,” Oikawa says to himself.

“But I wanted to see how you would respond if I changed the lyrics,” the words are pointed back at you again.

He stands up, feet moving slowly toward the doorway. Did he just… completely ignore your question?

Your jaw drops, “Did…” you can hardly speak.

Clearing your throat, you try again, focusing intently on your words, “...did you mean for me to hear you?”

“...Maybe.” He draws out the “e,” looking back at you.

That’s it. He’s lost his fucking mind. You’re going to strangle him.

No TikTok advice could have prepared you for the monstrosity that is Oikawa Tooru. How Iwaizumi put up with that... that child for all these years, you have no idea.

You have to make a note of sending him a “get well” card, because nobody could be mentally okay after dealing with him for that long.

“B- but… why? What?” You stammer out, back stiff as a board.

“You like me don’t you?” He tilts his head, hair flopping cutely with it.

You gape like a fish, mouth opening and closing.

And it’s not that you don’t want to respond.

It’s that you can’t. You have no words. You vocal chords are on a panic-induced lockdown.

Because he knew.

He knew this entire time. Which you thought he might, but that doesn’t make the situation any less infuriating.

“And I like you back.”

You’re dumbfounded. You can’t think. This is ridiculous.

You open your mouth once more but he has no intention of continuing this conversation.

“Sleep well!” Without further comment, Oikawa flashes you a sleepy smile and begins scampering back to his room after having wreaked havoc on your poor heart.

Your voice comes back just in time for you to wake up the entire building once more,

“No, you get your ass back here and explain yourself!”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa #oikawa x reader #oikawa scenarios #oikawa imagines #seijoh #what did i just write #this is gonna go under: 'things i gave up my sleep for'#ughsjdljlds'ldsdjd #also #i dont like the term crack fic anymore? so i think just calling it humorous is... a good way to go #goodnight yall #queued up!

258 notes · View notes

lag1995-fics · 3 years

Note

Hi!! May I request a dadneto fic of them calling each other dad and son for the first time? 🥰

Of course my love I’m a total sucker for dadneto. ❤️❤️❤️ I hope you enjoy

Dad.

Summary: Peter didn’t need a dad and he was sure Erik didn’t want a loser like him for a son. His father had already had the perfect family and had them snatched from him. Peter like he usually is was wrong.

Warnings: Peter has low self worth and anxiety. There’s a bit of angst but nothing heart wrenching. I don’t even think I cursed this time but I might have.

Pairing: there isn’t one just some good old fashioned father, son bonding. Maybe Cherik if you squint and turn your head to the left.

Words: 1408

Masterlist

Rules

——————————————————————————

Peter had been avoiding Erik like the plague since the older mutant had moved into the school to help with construction. Peter may be twenty seven but telling someone they missed out on twenty seven years of their child’s life wasn’t an easy thing to do. Peter knew if he couldn’t tell the man at the end of the world then it probably wasn’t going to happen.

His issue was he had already opened his fat mouth to Raven who kept trying to trap them in a room alone together. She had even gotten Charles in on it. Sure Erik had a right to know he had another child but it shouldn’t be Peter's responsibility to inform the man he had a child much less adult twins. His mother had really dropped the ball on that one.

Peter was content to just continue living his life as if everything was the same as always. He didn’t need a dad, he was a grown ass man at this point. He was afraid the information would only make Erik even more depressed. He had seen a picture of Nina in his snooping and he had determined that the tiny girl was everything he wasn’t.

She was beautiful with a tiny freckled nose and big blue eyes. She couldn’t be a loser like her big brother who up until a couple of months ago had still been living in his mother’s basement. Why would Erik want someone like him in his life much less as a son.

“Peter you’re spiraling” The professor's voice echoed through his head and Peter groaned frustrated. He pounded on his ear like he had water caught inside.

“Peter you should tell him I can be there with you if you’d like” The professor's meddling voice came again causing Peter to lose that round of Ms. Pac-Man.

“You see Professor, I would do that but I know he doesn’t want a loser basement dweller for a kid.” Peter shot back turning up his music even louder letting the voice of his generation sweep over him. David Bowie was a king and nobody could tell him otherwise.

“Peter, you aren’t a loser, you took on Apocalypse by yourself and lived to tell about it, rather loudly I might add. You also are starting a teaching position here in the fall. You are such a good kind hearted person don’t degrade yourself that way.” Charles scolded. This was an ongoing argument between the two men and it never seemed to change his mind.

“I mean, is a P.E. Teacher even a real teacher Professor?” Peter asked.

“Physical Education is a very important role in children’s lives”Charles retorted to the unconvinced twenty-something. Peter could feel the frustration bubbling up inside him. He jerked in surprise when his watch that was laying on the side table forgotten began to vibrate. He snatched it clasping it around his wrist taking deep even breaths just trying to calm down.

So he inherited more than just the x-gene from his father. He had a secondary mutation, that was just great. He would have to be even more cautious than he already was. He knew Raven would try to trigger this in front of Erik if she found out. Which she would with her brother being a freaking mind reader.

***

“I need all staff members to my office for a staff meeting” Charles' voice echoed loudly in his head. He zipped to the office finding that Charles and Erik were already there. He should have taken his time and the tension could be cut with a knife.

“Peter, how are you? I haven’t seen you around much” Erik greeted the silver haired mutant politely.

“Oh you know I’ve just been around” Peter waved him off and he could feel the professor’s eyes burning into him like Scott’s lasers.

“Peter did you know that Erik will be staying on a our new foreign language professor?” Charles asked and Peter could once again feel the frustration start to bubble up.

“Really? I thought the government gave you an island or something?” Peter asked pointedly, ignoring the professor’s smug grin.

“Well I decided that I should stay, one thing apocalypse was right about was mutants needing to stick together” Erik explained and Peter was suddenly regretting taking this job.

“Isn’t it delightful Erik is fluent in so many languages German, Russian, French, Spanish, and even Polish. Peter isn’t your mother originally from the Ukraine?” Peter wanted to glare at the older man but couldn’t...not without giving himself away at least.

“No she’s originally from Poland she moved to the Ukraine after being liberated with my ciotka” Peter bit out unknowingly feeding Erik valuable information.

“You are Jewish?” Peter wanted to run, he supposed he had Jewish blood he had known his father was Jewish.

“Romani” Peter answered shortly, trying to hint that he didn’t want to talk about it. He also wasn’t technically lying to be Jewish your mother technically had to be Jewish.

“And your last name is Maximoff?” Peter could feel the anxiety build up in his throat cursing his seventeen year old self for dropping the fact that his mother quote “knew someone who could control metal”.

Erik began staring hard at the boy taking in his features. He began to see a resemblance to Magda, his ex wife. He tried to explain it away he was probably Marya’s child, but how likely was it that Marya would give birth to a child with a mutation. He knew that Django and her husband didn’t have any mutation that he knew about.

Erik’s calculating gaze only served to push Peter that much closer to an anxiety attack. He could feel his already swift heart rate pick up even faster with his emotions. He could feel the cool metal of the watch hum and he fought the anxiety. The last thing Peter needed was to give Erik another clue. Controlling metal would be like a neon sign yelling I’m your son.

“Your mother was her name Marya or Magda?” Erik asked, still studying the nervous man. With his mother’s name all the metal in the professor’s office began to hum and vibrate. Peter began internally cussing as Erik’s eyes went wide. He started to bolt out the door but was held in place by his watch and the zipper on his jacket.

“Peter” was all Erik could say and suddenly Peter began to wonder if the professor hadn’t called the staff meeting and only let him and Erik know. That was something he should have expected from Raven not the professor. It seemed being a meddling meddler ran in their family.

“Uh yeah?” He nervously rubbed the back of his neck trying to get the metal in the room to stop vibrating.

“Your mother, her name was Magda” Erik remarked, it was a statement not a question. He couldn’t help but wish the Wanda was here with him. She had always been the smarter twin.

“Ummm yeah” he confessed. Erik’s face looked like a cross between anguish and pure joy. Anguish that he had missed so much of his child’s life and joy that he had been reunited with said child. This was Anya’s baby brother and Nina’s elder brother. Erik knew that he would protect Peter with all of his might from now on. Erik would not waste another moment.

“My son” Erik’s voice was thick with emotion as he started down his adult child. Peter went to look at Charles for help but cursed when he saw that the wheelchair bound man had excused himself without Peter or Erik noticing.

Erik staggered forward wrapping his arms around the man and Peter melted. Peter may not have needed a father but that wasn’t to say he didn’t want one. He had always craved male companionship, he had always looked forward to visiting his aunt and uncle as a child. This was different though this man was his father, something his uncle Django tried to be for him but never really could. Erik’s hug was warm and safe and strong and he suddenly felt like he was fifteen years old again.

“Dad,” he muttered, finally squeezing the older man back fighting back tears. He had thought Erik would be angry, that he would think that Peter was trying to replace Nina. Erik wasn’t angry though, Erik was relieved he had his family. His family might not be whole but at least he had part of it.

“You have my mother’s eyes” Erik informed him, as he pulled back to further examine Peter’s face. Peter had always thought that his eyes were a dull brown, he had always wished they were bright like his mother and sister’s were. He supposed this was better, if he had his grandmother's eyes that meant that a part of her lived on.

Peter knew that he needed to inform Erik of Wanda, but that could wait a few more moments. For now all Peter wanted to do was soak in his father’s acceptance and love at least for a moment

Thank you please feel free to request.

#evan peters #dadneto #peter maximoff #quicksilver #ralph bohner #wanda and pietro #xmen #fanfiction #xmen apocalypse #x men fanfiction #dadneto fanfic #erik lehnsherr #erik Lehnsherr fanfiction #peter maximoff fanfiction #metallokinetic!peter maximoff #request

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buckysgoldenheart · 4 years

Text

The B****, The Favorite, His Sister & Her Lover

Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary: Henry is in love with you, but you have been avoiding him for a month and you are forced to face the repercussions of your actions when your brother brings him to family dinner. (Fluffy, sorta smutty)

Words: 4979 (Sorry ☹, but I hope you like it if you decide it’s not too long).

All you wanted, well, not wanted, but all you planned for was a simple, hopefully non-stressful dinner where your mother made her lasagna and your brother eased her not-so-innocent attacks on you with his charming personality. It was a Friday. Friday’s were supposed to be relaxing, and if you could ignore the ‘subtle’ digs at your lack of relationship you might even consider it a win.

You sat at the counter, sipping at wine as your small mother slid her lasagna into the oven with two large, rose-printed oven mitts. What should have been a simple task ended up as your mother spending an entire minute adjusting and readjusting the pan until it was dead center on the rack.

“You’re letting all the heat out, mom.”

Her nearly entirely gray-haired head was practically in the oven when she said, “It has to be perfect or it won’t bake evenly, Y/N. If you ever cooked, you would know that. Men like when a woman can cook, you know.”

You rolled your eyes and took another sip of the dark reddish-purple liquid when the doorbell rang. Fucking finally, you thought, Brother dearest to the rescue. You actually loved Johnny almost more than anyone. He was your best friend, and without a doubt, you could show up at his apartment asking for help hiding a body and he would drop everything to google the best place to do it.

Probably a little too eagerly, you set your glass down, jogged to the small foyer, and whipped open the door. “Damn it, Johnny, you’re late. Mom is—”

Your body froze. Johnny was smiling wide, holding up a bottle of gin in his hand and waving it at you like a prize, standing next to the one man you had been trying to avoid for the better half of a month. You closed your parted lips and slid your tongue over them to wet the sudden dryness.

“Where’s mom?” Johnny asked.

You nodded your head in the direction of the kitchen. “Where else?”

You brother slipped by you, disappearing around the corner as he called for your mother. A sharp squeal echoed through the halls a moment later, your mother’s high-pitched tone crying ‘my baby boy,’ over and over.

Looking at the man before you: the blue eyes, the dark brown hair, the plump lips with an uneasy smile, you tried to look welcoming. You were sure you failed miserably, but who could blame you. Avoiding him had been going so well.

“Hi, Y/N.”

You swallowed. “Hi…Henry.” Awkwardly, you opened the door a little wider and stepped to the side. He cleared his throat and brushed passed you, the toned chest you had tried to forget rubbing up against your breasts. “Just, um…” You pointed in the direction of the kitchen before you realized it would just be better for him to follow you. “Follow me.”

When you saw Johnny playfully twirling your mother around to music he had turned on at some point, you internally groaned. He really was the perfect son. Perfect enough to make up for your lack of achievements. Johnny paused, large grin still in place when he saw you and Henry.

“Mom,” He said, gesturing a hand your way, “This is Henry, a good friend. We work together.”

Her eyes brightened even more at the sight of him. Tall, broad, sexy; the perfect potential suitor for her pathetic daughter. You just prayed she could keep her mouth shut for a single night.

“Henry,” She said, taking his hand in hers. “So lovely to meet you. Please, take a seat. What would you like to drink? I can get you anything.”

Henry looked anxious at the sudden onslaught of attention. You knew the feeling, though it was often directed your way in a more negative manner. Before Henry could respond, your brother set a glass of bourbon in front of him to which he responded with a nod, a smile, and a ‘thank you.’

The scene in front of you was more and more beginning to feel like an episode of The Twilight Zone. Henry was sitting at the kitchen counter of your childhood home with a drink in his hand, chatting with your mother and brother like it wasn’t weird. He looked misplaced. He was too big for the room. His shoulders were massive, and he was so, so tall, and there was something about it that had you panicking.

“Johnny!” Your brother looked your way. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and walked to your old bedroom. You shut the door with an annoyed huff once your bother’s body was barely on your side of it. He observed the room as if he hadn’t seen it a thousand times before then winced when he met your eyes, having run out of places to look. “Oh, don’t give me that.”

You crossed your arms. “What the fuck is he doing here!”

“He said he was going to be alone for the weekend and when I told him I was going home for the night, I offered for him to come.”

Raising an eyebrow, you scoffed. “And why would he accept that thrilling proposal?”

Johnny chucked and rubbed the back of his neck. “Funny thing—”

“Oh, is it?”

“I may have told him you were coming, too…”

“Is that so?” You said a little louder.

Your brother shrugged and sighed. “Look, Y/N, he loves you…a lot. I barely mentioned your name before he started to pack his overnight bag.” He chuckled at the memory. “Personally, I don’t get it. I never really felt like you outgrew that mousy, awkward phase, but I guess he sees passed that.”

Groaning, you grabbed a pillow off your bed and threw it at his head. “Johnny!”

He tossed the pillow back at you and you swatted it away. “He’s a good guy, Y/N. You could do worse. He could probably do better, but he did spend the entire drive here unashamedly asking about you, so he must think otherwise.”

“You’re an ass.”

“I’m the best and you love me.” Johnny walked to you and threw and arm over your shoulders. “Now, come on. We’ve left him alone with our mother. No one deserves that.”

----------

“Oh, I did see that…” Your mother snapped her fingers. “Oh, what was it? Uncle something, the uncle man, no that’s not it, uncle—”

“The Man from U.N.C.L.E,” Henry finished for her.

“Yes!” She smiled triumphantly as if she had come to answer on her own. “I quite enjoyed that one.”

“Well, thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

“My son says you’re Superman as well. Is that so?”

“Mom,” Your brother interrupted as he dragged you back in the room. “Leave Henry alone, alright? He gets questioned all the time. He doesn’t need it from us.”

Your mother swatted a hand. “Oh, nonsense. How am I supposed to get to know Henry here if I don’t ask questions?”

“Are you interviewing him for something?”

As she donned the oven mitts again, bent down, and pulled dinner out of the oven, your mother winked. “Maybe…”

You let out a quiet whimper, grabbed your glass, and downed the rest of your wine in half a second. Johnny nodded your way and handed you the bottle. You nodded back in appreciation and refilled your glass a little more than socially acceptable.

“Ok, now, everyone at the table,” You mother announced.

----------

The lasagna was annoyingly delicious, but the conversation ruined it. You were definitely buzzed by now, trying to scarf down the last of your food. Maybe you could feign illness and dip out before dessert. The two hour drive back to your apartment at nine p.m., tipsy or not, sounded exponentially better than staying the night like you usually did. If only it weren’t illegal and didn’t mean potentially harming yourself or someone else. Johnny watched you sympathetically, so very clearly understanding your discomfort, until your mother drew his attention at the mention of his name.

“John has a girlfriend,” She said to Henry, then looked at her son. “Where is Margaret, Johnny?”

“Business trip,” He replied. When she raised her eyebrows, undoubtedly impressed that her son found a woman important enough to be needed around the world, Johnny elaborated. “Paris this month. She is collaborating with some famous designer out there.”

“She is so smart and beautiful, very driven. It’s extremely impressive. You must be so proud of her.”

Johnny smiled at the thought of his girlfriend. He did love her in a way he’d never loved any other and you knew how hard it was for him when she was gone, so you reached out and placed a comforting hand on his arm. “I am proud of her. I am, um…I’m actually going to ask her to marry me when she gets back.”

Your mother squealed and practically jumped out of her seat. “Oh, my goodness!” Then, she actually stood and trotted over to her son, wrapped her arms around him and kissed the side of his head. Henry met your eyes as you averted them from the spectacle that was your mother, seeming to be examining every feature of your face with an undetermined expression. You wanted to look away but found yourself unable. His stare reminded you too much of the last time you saw him. The way he had studied you then, it made you melt. It was as if he was trying to figure you out, like he thought you were some kind of otherworldly being with a uniqueness he couldn’t quite find the words to describe.

You watched as his lips slowly parted and your thoughts turned dark. You mother would be ashamed, but she quickly stopped them as she fawned more over your brother. “I’ll have grandchildren in no time!” She placed on last peck on your bother’s cheek before taking her seat again, folding her napkin back over her lap. “Henry, have you met Margaret?”

Henry’s eyes finally left your face. “I have actually.”

“Oh, isn’t she absolutely lovely? Just perfect for my Johnny. I wish Y/N would find someone.”

“Mom,” You and Johnny said at the same time. Here we go. But your mother ignored your protests.

“Someone like you, Henry,” She continued and rested her hand on his forearm. “You would be perfect. You are so charming and sweet and handsome; you’d be good for her. Y/N has a horrible history with men, absolute buffoons. They never treat her right. They never love her.”

“Mom!” Johnny shouted, thankfully trying to protect you, because with each word that passed your mother’s lips, you lost the will to protect yourself.

“But a man like you—”

The sound of your chair skidding across the hardwood drowned out any other noise. You stood, threw your napkin down and, without a word or glance at anyone at the table, left for your room.

Johnny blew out a breath and shook his head. “Mom…”

Her eyebrows rose and she shrugged, her hands out in question like a small child when asked where the last of the cookies went. “What?”

“You need to lay off. Honestly. Give her a break.”

That surprised look on her face quickly shifted. “Oh, please, John. She knows I mean well. When I find her a man, she will thank me.”

“Will she?” Your brother’s lips thinned out. “I’ll go talk to her.”

Henry dabbed his mouth with his napkin and stood. “No. I’ll go,” He said, but paused when your mother put her small hand on his arm again.

“Oh, Henry, dear, you don’t have to deal with her.”

“No, mom,” Johnny interjected. “Let Henry go. I’ll stay and help you with the dishes. I think dinner is over.”

----------

The knock at your door had you groaning. You didn’t want to see anyone, not even Johnny. There was nothing he could say to make it better, to make the entire night disappear as if it never happened. All you wanted to do was lay back in your bed and stare at the little glow stars you had stuck on your ceiling when you were five. If you turned off your bedside lamp, they would shine that bright alien-green color that once had you wishing you could live with some wild, extra-terrestrial being instead of your own mother. But then the door pounded again.

“Not now, Johnny.”

You thought your simple, aggravated tone was enough to persuade anyone to leave you alone, until a moment later when the door eased open. “Not Johnny,” Henry said, and your heart skipped a beat. “Can we talk?”

Keeping your eyes on the little ceiling stars, you said, “I swear to god, if this is about my mom—”

“It’s not.”

“If it’s about the other thing, then the answer is still no.”

Henry quietly groaned, shut the door, and stepped to the side of the bed. The room was suddenly warmer as you met his eyes, and he nudged your legs to the side so he could sit. “Why not?”

You took a deep breath and scooted your body up until your back was against the wall. He still looked at you; determined, you realized. He wanted what he wanted, and he clearly had no plans to leave without answers. “That was an accid—”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Yes,” You said firmly. “It was.”

He rose a perfect eyebrow. “How so? Neither of us were drunk, we both wanted it. You told me—”

“I know what I told you.”

Henry nodded and swallowed, his eyes darting to the floor for a second before back to you. “Were you lying to me then?”

‘No,’ You wanted to say, but somehow, your lips could not form the word. Though even if they could, you weren’t sure any sound would come out.

“Tell me, how does it happen that two people can admit their feelings for one another, sleep together, and then one of those people decides to leave in the middle of the night and start avoiding the other.”

“Didn’t I just say—”

“Yea, well, I want to talk about it,” he interrupted you, and you didn’t miss the irritation starting to seep into that delectably deep voice of his.

The look on his face had you wishing you could rip out your own stomach to avoid the nausea it induced. At least I feel guilty, you thought. You could be one of those people who lies to get in someone pants and then avoids them. You didn’t lie, so there would always be that.

“Why did you leave?” He asked.

You didn’t even know. Was there actually a single reason, or where there so many little reasons that you couldn’t pinpoint one in particular. Either way, you couldn’t explain. You knew what you felt for him. You knew it scared you, and that you didn’t want to hurt him. But how do you make a stupid choice like unwrapping his arms from your body in the middle of the night while he sleeps so you could leave, and then ever be able to look him in the eye again. You weren’t strong enough for that, not when it came to him. He made you feel amazing and beautiful and loved, and you threw it back in his face.

“Y/N—”

“Can we please not do this,” You whispered.

“No, we are doing this,” Henry said, standing sharply. “We are definitely doing this.”

You stood as well, willing yourself to be as tall as him. At least then it would be fair, but he was inches above you, and you didn’t possess the magical abilities to make yourself grow after the age of 15, so… “Henry—”

He stared you down, stepping to you and forcing you back until your spine met the wall. “Just answer the damn question, Y/N. Is what you said to me a lie?”

“I…I’m…I don’t—” You stammered and, though tried to hold your ground, couldn’t stop yourself from looking away and to the tacky, blue carpet flooring. But Henry wasn’t having it. He crooked a finger under your chin and lifted until you had no choice other than to gaze into the ocean blue of his eyes and at the small brown island in the left one.

“Do you love me or not?”

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish. You wanted to say something, you had to, he wouldn’t wait forever, but—

“Yes or no, Y/N.”

…He wouldn’t wait forever…

“Yes or--”

“Yes.”

In the same breath, he cupped your cheeks and put his lips on yours. Tasting him again sent shocks through every nerve of your body. It felt like your first sip of water after surviving days without; like the feeling of sunshine on your skin after being trapped so long in the darkness you lost track of time. It felt as if his kiss held inside it everything you needed to finally be free. No more denial, no more loneliness or fear, no more avoiding him because he clearly wasn’t going to let that happen for one more minute.

When you finally gave in and parted your lips for him, Henry groaned. His tongue on yours created a fire that burst inside of you and soothed the chills his touch created, and before you had time to process another thought, you were pushing him back to your bed and straddling his lap. Warm hands traveled up and down your back until the moan you made at the feeling of his hard on pressing to your core had him wrapping his arms tight around your waist. So tight, you were not sure how you could still breathe.

You sneaked your hand between your bodies and worked to unbuckle the belt around his hips, but he pulled back just as you yanked it from the loops and tossed it to the side. You searched his eyes for any reason he may have stopped you, but all you saw was love. He reached up and brushed a stray hair behind your ear, then caressed your cheek and stroked along your cheekbone with his thumb.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, eyebrows still drawn together in confusion.

Henry smiled to slightest. “I love you.”

“…Still?” You looked away from him in embarrassment. “Even after avoiding you for a month?”

“Yes, still,” He chuckled. “Even after that.”

You let out a little whimper and touched your forehead to his. “I don’t know how you could.”

“Because it’s you, baby.” He put a hand on the back of your neck and pecked your lips once, twice. “I’ve been in love with you for so long.”

You lifted your head from his and he smiled, glancing at your lips before meeting your eyes. “How long?”

“Since your brother brought you to the Fallout wrap party.”

“Henry…”

“I know. I should’ve told you a long time ago, way before last month.” With one hand, he threaded his fingers through your hair. The other started to rub up and down your thigh.

He nudged his nose against yours and before he could kiss you again, you whispered, “I love you.”

Your words made him contentedly hum from deep in his chest, then he placed his lips on yours again, your bottom one between his two. He sucked on it and softly nibbled, and you slid your hands up his chest until you could wrap your arms around his neck. Grinding your hips down forced a groan from Henry as he went for the button of his jeans.

Your lips separated for a moment so you could hike up your skirt, and before he could, you slipped your fingers inside his pants and pulled out his cock, grasping it in your warm hand. His lips parted at your touch, his eyes staring hard into yours as you lifted up, tugged your panties to the side, and started to ease yourself onto him. His cock parted your folds and stretched you so deliciously wide that the familiar string from his size had you gasping.

“Oh, God,” Henry sucked in a breath, sheathed fully inside you. “So good, sweetheart.”

You nodded, lost for words. Nothing could describe the feeling of him inside you. He filled you the way no man ever could, in more ways than one. Every hollow part of you he sated; your body, your heart, your mind, all brought to peace just by being with him. How you let your fear get in the way of this for an entire month, you couldn’t understand. But as he held you so close nothing could get between your bodies, you pushed your thoughts to the back of your mind and started to rock your hips back and forth on his lap.

----------

“That is a lot of stars,” Henry said as you laid back in the bed and stared up at your ceiling, his arms still wrapped around you. He hadn’t let you go, even for a second. From the moment you said ‘yes’ to his question, his hands remained on your body, his skin always touching yours.

“I like space.”

“I know,” He chuckled, then pulled you on top of him. You overlapped your hands on his chest and rested your chin on them.

“Oh yea?”

“Mhm. I know an awful lot about you. I’ve been paying attention for a while.”

“I know things about you, too.”

“Oh yea?” He asked, mimicking you with a smirk and an arched eyebrow.

“I know that you’re obsessed with video games, you like to cook and you’re actually good at it, you want a family, and you love Kal more than anyone.”

“Almost more than anyone.” He smiled at you and brushed a knuckle down your cheek. “Don’t tell him though.”

You giggled but continued. “I know that you are supportive and determined and you always go after what you want--”

“Like I did with you.”

“—And there is no one in the world like you. You make me feel safe…and loved.”

He leaned closer and you rose to meet his lips. “You’re all I want.”

The corners of your mouth crooked up, but a moment later they fell and you sat up in fear. “Oh, my God.”

“What?”

“We’ve been in here,” You paused to check the small alarm clock on your bedside table, “For an hour.” Standing quickly, you looked around, wildly searching for your underwear that Henry had yanked down your legs at some point and tossed to God knows where.

He hopped up and threw his shirt over his head. When you handed him his belt, he nodded and thanked you with a smile before he began to slip it through the loops.

You sighed in relief when you found the dark blue lacy panties and pulled them up your legs. “My mother is gonna lose it. I bet the only reason she hasn’t barged in here is because of Johnny.” You ran around like a chicken with its head cut off, looking for garments and hurriedly clothing yourself. When you passed in front of Henry, he grabbed your arm.

“Babe,” He said, cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. “It’s fine. Everything is going to be fine.”

----------

You stepped down the stairs and casually rounded the corner into the living room as if you hadn’t just had sex twice, to see Johnny sitting in one of two brown leather armchairs, sipping his gin and tonic. Your brother smirked when he saw your somewhat disheveled appearance, with Henry behind you, one of his large hands on your hip.

“Hey, sis.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t start. Where’s mom?”

He nodded his head to the couch you hadn’t bothered to glace at yet, where your mother’s body draped along it like a rag doll, a glint of drool at the corner of her mouth. “What the fuck?”

“Mom still cannot hold her booze.” He stood and watched your mother as she let out a loud snore. “Don’t worry, she didn’t hear you. She was too busy ranting about your lack of love life.” You swallowed and Johnny walked up to you. Raising one eyebrow, he looked between you and Henry, then took a gulp of the clear liquid in his glass. “The irony, huh?”

Before you could say a word, your brother slipped by you and patted Henry a few times on the shoulder. “Oh, and you’re free to go home,” Johnny called from the kitchen. “I have a feeling you’d both rather spend your night…well, not here, and I can look after our dear mother. You can thank me tomorrow.” He chuckled.

Henry looked down at you and smiled softly. “We can stay if you want.”

“Are you kidding?” You snickered. “Just give me a minute, then we can go.”

He grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “I’ll go wait by the car. Tell Johnny I’ll see him Monday, yea?”

You nodded and as Henry left out the front door, you made your way down the tiled hallway that led to the kitchen. You found your brother sitting at the counter and typing on his phone with a smile.

“Margaret?” You asked.

Johnny placed his phone back on the counter and took a swig of gin straight from the bottle. “Yea.”

“How is she?”

“Good. She’s doing really well out there.” He smiled, though halfheartedly, and went for the fridge to pull out your mother’s devil’s food cake. Grabbing a fork, he walked back to the counter, put the cake in the center and dug right into the side of it. You stared as he devoured bite after bite. If it were you, you would have surely faced the wrath of the small, plump woman passed out in the next room, but Johnny ate without a care in the world. “I fucking miss her.”

You picked at a fingernail as you asked, “Is it awful…to have someone you love hours away from you for weeks at a time?” You hated to see your brother miss his girlfriend so much his insides hurt, and you had no desire to be in the same situation.

“Not as awful as it probably sounds. It would be easier with you and Henry, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He gave you an amused look that only barely masked his own pain.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he and I have to go wherever the production companies take The Witcher, but you can travel freely with your job and, believe me, he’ll take you everywhere he’s filming as long as you say yes. He also might try to superglue you to his side though, so watch out for that.”

You scrunched your eyebrows together, trying to not smile as much as your brother’s words were begging you to, then forced it down with a swallow. “Johnny…” He hummed, and when you didn’t continue, he turned his head to look at you. “Thank you. I don’t know that I would’ve talked to him again if you hadn’t brought him here. I would’ve tried to forget about it, and him.”

Johnny smirked as he poked at the cake with his fork. “Nah, Henry wouldn’t have let that happen. He’s, like, an idiot for you, but a very…determined idiot.”

“Really?”

“Oh, baby sister, you have no idea.” He rubbed up and down the side of your arm the way he used to as kids in high school when he thought you were being a little too naïve for your own good. “But I’ll tell you all about the nauseatingly, sappy whining he did over you another time.”

That was a story you were sure Henry would try to keep as far away from you as possible and the thought made you smile. The close friends he probably told, or ‘whined’ to, as your brother said, would undoubtedly have a ball trying to recount every detail just to see how red Henry’s cheeks could get.

You wrapped your arms around Johnny from the side, your head just meeting his shoulder, and squeezed. He wiggled his arm out of your tight hold to tuck you into his side then kissed your forehead.

“I love you,” You said.

“I know.”

-----------

Seeing Henry leaning against your car, patiently waiting for you, made something in your chest lighten. He didn’t seem bored or annoyed or itching to rush you along, but just content to stay in that one spot until you were ready to go. You’d never had that before: a man who didn’t force you to follow every minute of his schedule, who didn’t make you feel like you could never be an inconvenience without consequences, who didn’t hold you down by the boulder on your chest, suffocating you until you complied. It made you appreciate what it meant to be able to inhale and exhale for more than just the need to keep your body from dying. It gave you the chance to see that there are two types of breathing: There’s the breathing that keeps you alive, and there’s the breathing that keeps you sane. Henry allowed you to have both, and it took the smallest of gestures to give you that relief.

He smiled bright when he saw you striding over the front yard grass to him and took your hands in his once you were within reach. “You ready?”

You nodded and rested your head on his chest, inhaling the scent you memorized a year ago. “Yours or mine?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“If we go to yours, we can be having sex sooner. Mine’s an extra fifteen away,” You said and looked up at him.

“Mine it is.” He winked and then kissed you.

---------------------------------

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

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Amoreena | chapter eleven

chapter eleven

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: Y/N POV: details of what happened to Stephen, her grandmas cancer, and very detailed explanations of how babies are made (as biologically accurate and not very graphic as possible) this is an angsty trauma filled chapter that made me cry a lot just writing it so I'm sorry in advance

word count: 3K

from the beginning <3

June 13th, 2010

There’s a knock on her parent's door at 4 in the morning, Y/N’s sound asleep on the couch back at her grandma’s, awoken by said grandmother as she hears all the noise beyond the porch. There are 2 cop cars at the main house, worry starts to settle over them.

She puts on a pair of shoes, taking her grandmother's hand in hers as they begin the early morning trek up the road, anxiety seeping in deeper and deeper as they get closer to the lights illuminating their driveway.

Her father is talking to an officer on the steps, her mother is crying behind him. “We’re so sorry for your loss,” the officer says and Y/N’s blood runs cold, numbing her from the impending despair.

“What happened?” Her grandmother asks, rubbing a hand along Y/N’s back in preparation for the worst.

“Evan was in a car accident,” her father says softly, knowing that Y/N knows Stephen was with him tonight. She breaks away from her grandma and without thinking she’s right in the officer's face.

“Which one of them died?”

“Ma’am,” it was never a good way to start the worst conversation of her life with that word or in that tone. She felt like a '40s housewife learning her husband wasn’t coming home from the war, only he wasn’t even her husband yet.

He would have been on next Saturday.

“I’m sorry, Stephen was pronounced dead on the scene,” he says the worst sentence she’s ever heard, and now she’ll never forget it. “The passenger side took the worst of it, once again, I am so sorry for your loss.”

She’s surprisingly calm, managing to whisper, “thank you,” before she’s walking off into the field, pushing everyone's hands away as she travels as far as he feet will take her.

She ends up at the willow tree by the pond as soon as the sun is rising, it happened a lot earlier in June than the rest of the year. The birds singing, the wind blowing against the leaves making them carry a tune in harmony together. The world is still spinning, life is moving on, but how?

She sat there against the tree for a while, picking blades of grass and weaving them into a chain, soothing her brain as she makes a pattern. Giving her hands something to do so they stop going numb, it’s the only thing that really reminds her that she's real, that she’s controlling the twists and tucks, the shape and length and the fact that it was created at all.

Ending the life of the single blade of grass as she picks it, never to be whole again. Snatched from its happy place, where it grew loved and surrounded by other matching green strands as they blew in the wind.

Then she's pulling fist full after fist full of grass out of the dirt, her hands covered in mud as she shouts, throwing handfuls of grass and dirt towards the pond. The once blue water starting to turn cloudy; disrupted and upset with her anger as it swallows her weapons, but it doesn’t make her feel better. All she did was disrupt the earth, changing the way this once beautiful patch of land used to look. She couldn’t help but sob, realizing that she was like this field now and her beautiful green pasture was disrupted, overturned and ruined.

The life that flowed through her died along with the love of her life.

“Stephen was pronounced dead on the scene,” the words echo in her mind in a constant circle like she’s stuck in a tin can.

It starts to reverberate, getting louder and louder as the same 7 words all run around in her head. Bouncing off the walls, smacking her down again and again as she hears them over and over and over… she’s holding her hands on her ears, shaking back and forth, sobbing when she feels someone wrap their arms around her.

She doesn’t open her eyes, instead, she's rushing to push them off of her, struggling out of their grasp as she fights them. Finally, she loses, being held in her brother's embrace as they both cry, he barely has a scratch on him when she finally looks at him.

she’s never been physical in her life, but she punched him right in the face. Her twin brother, best friend in childhood and the person she’s known the longest in her life. He held her close in the womb, crying if they separated as soon as they were born, she loved him deeply and yet she hated him something fierce at that moment.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Evan cries, “we were stopped at a red light, Y/N!”

“I don’t care! He was supposed to be my husband!” She swats at him, smacking his arms again and again as he tries to hold them back, holding her so tightly as she basically screams bloody murder in the field.

All she can see is his face, her beautiful happy Stephen. The first time she ever saw him, standing under a street light in Boston, papers in his hand and wonder in his eyes. The way he looked up at her, the glow of the light making a halo glow over his head.

She should have known he was too good to be true. Always destined to return to the heavens, he was truly angelic with his big emerald eyes that were only the tiniest bit yellow on the edge of the pupil, the way her name sounded on his tongue like a blessing coming true.

They buried him 2 days after what was supposed to be their wedding. Disrupting another beautiful patch of earth to hide him away forever, she placed a single rose on his casket, she never said goodbye and she never planned to.

“See you later, superstar,” she patted the glossy black box once last time before sending him down into the earth.

—

September 2012

This fucking willow tree and 7-word sentences…

“What do you mean you have cancer?”

Her grandma let a tear slip from her eye, “I’ve got colon cancer, honey, the doctors said I have another 2 years, maybe 5 if I'm lucky.”

Every time someone sat beside her in this one spot, she learned the worst information in the world. Sure Evan didn’t mean to kill Stephen, doesn’t mean she’s talked to him at all in the last year. with Grandpa dying only a few summers back, her favourite house cat now buried in the yard, she can’t lose her grandma now too.

“Okay,” she starts to plan in her head, her eyes about ready to jump out of her skull as she tries to think of all the things they need to do before it’s too late, “let’s go to England, let’s blow my bank account, you can’t leave me without going to England with me? We were supposed to get tea and pretend to be the queen and princess?”

She couldn’t stop the tears, her whole body heaving as she sobbed into her grandma’s dress, “you can’t leave me too!”

“Your grandfather and I have a fund for you, you were the last baby we got to raise when your mom went back to work, I want you to use it for that baby we talked about,” her grandma’s voice is barely a whisper, softly getting the words over her vocal cords as the tears joined Y/N’s on her dress.

Without another word, she took her hand and walked home, getting in her car together and heading to the closest fertility clinic, she booked her first insemination for February, pre-paying for a round of IVF hormones and everything to start in January, she had 3 months to plan.

Finding the perfect donor was the only hard part. She had 3 different books to choose from with all the clinics in the DC area sharing 1 sperm bank. She finally made her decision 3 weeks before they were set to get her pregnant when they updated the books.

Sample 2319, male 30’s, healthy, high IQ, 6’1, brown eyes, brown hair (curly). “Sounds a lot like Stephen,” her grandma agreed, saying his name for the first time in over 2 years, she knew this was her guy.

—

June 14th, 2021

Peeing on a stick shouldn’t be as terrifying as it is.

She hasn’t been this nervous since the first time Dr. Collins inseminated her. Laying back on the table at a weird elevation to make sure she got pregnant, her whole body tense as she thought of the possibilities of her future child.

Sample 2319 sitting in a cup not too far from her face as she prepared for a man she barely knew to put the semen of another man she didn’t know, inside her. She only picked this guy cause he was smart and tall, no health issues to report and the number made her think of Monsters Inc.

In her mind, she made a baby with a man she named mike wazowski, not knowing his real name was actually Spencer Reid and he was only just down the road at Quantico the whole time. It was the weirdest day ever, and then it became the second-best day of her life

Nothing could top holding her baby in her arms for the first time. Her grandma and mother beside her as they all cried, the perfect purple baby screaming on her chest as they tried to wipe the white gunk off her tiny body. her sweet little coos, seeing her swollen eyes open for the first time, the silence that overcame her as they made their first introduction to each other. Her little person, the love of her life, her wonderful Amoreena.

Her cry was perfect, like music to her ears she wanted to hear her little voice as long as she could because it meant she was alive and real. She was healthy and beautiful and the most perfect bundle of joy she could have ever made.

Now she was hiding in the bathroom to pee on a stick while her 7-year-old had breakfast in the next room. Oh, how times changed, but one thing remained the same, she was finding out alone again. Only this time she meant for that to happen, it was exactly 4 days since her period was supposed to start and it wasn’t there, neither was Spencer.

He had something to do that morning, but he’d be meeting them later that afternoon, it was Amoreena’s last day of kindergarten after all. She wanted time to either enjoy the thought of having another baby or cry in peace because for once it didn’t work, giving her a week to recover before trying again.

Amoreena was a miracle, the easiest IVF baby they ever made at the clinic, apparently. If she was pregnant this easily again it was a sure sign that he was Amoreena’s father too, only he could get her knocked up while not even trying.

She didn’t remember pregnancy tests taking this long, she flipped it over and walked out of the room, unable to think of anything else while she waited for 3 minutes to pass. Amoreena noticed she was being weird, studying her mother's movements as she paced the hall outside of the bathroom door.

“What are you doing?” She asked, curious as ever as she twirled lightly in her new princess dress.

“Can you keep a secret?”

“Always mom, I’m the best secret keeper in all the kingdom, remember?” Amoreena smiled, holding onto her leg as she stared up at her.

“Your dad and I tried to make a baby,” she whispered, petting the litter hairs on her forehead as Amoreena looked up at her, her first little baby. “I’m waiting to find out if it worked, but we can’t tell anyone in case it didn’t, okay?”

Amoreena’s eyes were wider than she’s ever seen them, her mouth opened slowly as she understood the words in her mind. She didn’t look happy or surprised, nor upset or worried. She looked confused, “how?”

She laughed then, shaking her head as she lifted Amoreena into her arms, she would have to know soon anyway. “You know how every month mummy has a bad week where she bleeds and her tummy hurts?”

“Yeah?”

“When people with our parts grow up they make little tiny eggs but we don’t lay them like chickens do, they stay inside our tummies and wait to become babies and if they don’t we have a period and release all the stuff our bodies saved up that month to make a little person. You’ll have one soon too in a few years, probably when you're 12 like I was, and when people with a penis get old enough they’re able to help us make the babies like roosters help the chickens. Our bodies are really special and make some really cool things when we try to,” she explained it in the most simple farmhouse way she could.

“Like when the goats are all born in the spring and they just show up?” She tried to clarify, understanding it at the basic level.

“Kinda, you’ve seen the photos of you in my tummy and how aunty Shannon’s stomach grew when she had your cousins, I’ll get really big like that too if I’m pregnant, the baby will grow for 9 long months till they’re nice and healthy and then we’ll have another person in the family,” she couldn’t help but smile as she thought about it.

“How do we find out?”

She opened the bathroom door then and carried Amoreena inside, setting her down on the sink and pointing at the upside-down test stick. “We create a special hormone when we’re pregnant, it’s something that can be detected in our pee!” she explained it like it was magic, watching her get excited instead of grossed out.

“So I peed on that stick and if it has 2 lines I have a baby in my tummy, if not then your dad and I have to try again.”

Amoreena picked up the test and looked at it, keeping it out of her mothers sight as she did so, “there’s two lines,” she lit up waving the stick lightly as she squealed.

Y/N wrapped her up in her arms and twirled her around, “you’re gonna be the best big sister ever!”

“How do we tell dad?” Amoreena’s soft voice whispered in her ear as she snuggled into her shoulder.

“I have an idea,” she whispered back before carrying her back into the kitchen.

Her All About Me project was sitting on the counter, ready for Y/N to drive her into school today. She set Amoreena down on the floor to watch her as she took some tape and taped the stick to the bottom corner of the project. “Pass me the marker, please?”

Amoreena ran to the counter to get it, coming back and placing it in her mom's hand before leaning in to watch what she was writing.

“I’m going to be a big sister sometime next February!” Amoreena read the words as her mother wrote them, unbelievably excited.

“Your dad can read that at the ceremony tonight!”

“I thought you said we can’t tell anyone yet?” Amoreena questioned her, like always.

“Your teacher can know, the other kids won't know what it means, it’s just important Spencer sees it, but we will wait to tell nanny and poppy, okay? Sometimes the babies don’t always stay, it’s sad so we keep it a secret until they’ve got a tiny little heartbeat in there,” she didn’t want to scare her, but she knew it was always a possibility.

“Then we try again,” Amoreena smiled, “It’ll be easier now that you don’t need Dr. Collins to help you, how did you even make me without Spencer?” She didn't use his real name often anymore, only in times when she wasn't referring to him as her father.

She sat down then, pulling Amoreena into her lap so she could hold her while she thought of the right words. “So we have eggs, but people with penises have something called sperm. When adults, and I mean adults you have to be at least 25 to have a baby it’s the rules,” she teased her slightly, ticking her arms.

“Adults have sex, babies are made when someone with a vagina and someone with a penis get together. But when you don’t have a partner with a penis to help, sometimes they’ll donate their sperm to the doctor's offices to help people like me make their perfect little families all by themselves.”

“Interesting,” is all her little mind can say, she has learned so much in one day, Y/N was surprised she was still listening and surprisingly still for once. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“We won't know for a while,” she smiled, holding Amoreena closer to her chest. “How do you feel about all this?”

Amoreena was quiet as she thought about it, “is Spencer the guy who gave the doctors the sperm for me?”

“We think so, but we don’t know, why?”

Amoreena looked at her softly, “it wouldn’t be fair, I know he said I don’t need a father but why do they get to have him for both?”

“I think Spencer is your father, you’re just as smart and wonderful as he is, there’s no doubt in my mind that you’re his baby too. but if you want to know if he isn't, when you turn 18 the doctors will tell you who it is, it's completely up to you to find out,” she whispered, the tears starting to fall down her cheeks as Amoreena tried to wipe them away.

"I like thinking he's my father, so he is." Her mind worked in the most wonderful way. Y/N couldn’t help but hold her close as she lightly cried, “I had a dream yesterday that I had 8 sisters,” her voice was so soft and innocent as her tiny hand cupped her mother's cheek.

She gasped lightly at the words, remembering Spencer’s panic in the middle of the night last night, how scared he was to leave her all alone with 9 babies and no one to help her. They knew something that she didn’t yet, cheaper by the dozen seemed less like a dream and more like a prophecy.

“I’m so happy to make your dream come true,” Y/N whispered, “I promise I’m happy, the baby just makes me emotional.”

Amoreena placed her hand on her tummy then, “I love you, baby.”

Y/N stuck her tummy out as far as she could, “I love you too, big sister,” she said in a funny voice to make Amoreena laugh, leaning back in the chair as she held her.

And just like that, getting pregnant with Amoreena was bumped into 3rd place for the best day of her life. Sharing the moment with her and no one else was perfect, insuring she knew that she was just as important moving forward as the little person she was growing this time.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 let me know if you would like to be added as well!!

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #amoreena

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alfredosauce50 · 3 years

Text

Of beasts and men [Hybrid 2p! America x reader]

Synopsis: And to think that godforsaken animal rescue center was to blame. You were supposed to find a dog to adopt, not a creepy furry who showed up naked at your door! Turns out, his shapeshifting abilities got him in some hot water with the police. And the rescue center owner. It’s pretty self-explanatory. Wordcount: 3, 290 The reader is referred to as she/her.

“You’re fired!” A gruff voice screamed outside a diner a few blocks down. “And don't come crawling back to me when you need my help! Not again!”

The shouts caused his ears to prick up, so he turned his head to the sound and flipped the man off. Though one had to wonder if he was a man. Yes, he stood on two legs, but he was covered head to toe with shaggy brown fur, and he had the head of a bull.

“No, I quit! Nobody fires me. Your loss, baby!” He yelled, baring his canines in a wide smile. When the other fumed in response, a jet of steam shot through his nostrils to blow his gold nose ring forward. Then, they stomped their foot and kicked the dirt below. He froze. “Oh shit.”

“I'll skewer you like a kebab!” They roared, rearing their head back before lunging forward to start charging at him. A single glance of those sharp horns was enough to send him running. So he fled, dashing through the narrow marketplace while gritting his teeth. Pushing past members of the public, he never stopped knocking over random objects in his way.

Crates, baskets, and fruit stalls in his path were bulldozed, alerting nearby swordsmen in blue jackets.

“Hey, you there! Stop running!”

He could hear their paws and hooves hot on his tail, so he lowered himself onto all fours and morphed. Sprinting all the way to the edge of the city, he disappeared into an alleyway. His life was a culmination of terrible decisions, but this probably took the cake. He knew exactly where this system of alleys led to, but he never slowed down to look back.

There was nothing left for him in the beast kingdom.

Dashing out of the enclosure of walls, he rammed into a dumpster and fell to the ground with a heavy thump. “Ah, shit...” He rolled onto his back and outstretched a paw to stare at it. “Maybe it isn't too late to be adopted. Ha!” The thought made him laugh, but it came out as a high-pitched wheeze. “Who am I kidding? I'm not a damn pet.”

“Hey, is that a red Doberman?”

He widened his eyes and sprung up on all fours. Pricking his ears to the two men standing at the street outside, he shook his head in regret. Like a deer caught in the headlights, they shined their torch on him and lit up his black irises with fear.

“Wow, you're right! Look at its fur! It's got a beautiful rusted color to it!”

“I can't believe it's a stray. We should take it back to the rescue center.”

The next thing he knew, he was sitting in a small cell. A metal gate slammed shut and locked him in. A few minutes later, he was still processing everything that had happened. He just got caught by a bunch of humans. “Did I jinx myself?” Jumping up and scrambling to the gate, he pressed his snout against the wires and held it with his paws--a rather human-like action and odd sight.

“Let me out, let me out dammit!” He yelled, pulling the wires back and forth to make it rattle. “This is a beast rights violation! I demand a lawyer!” What should have been coherent sentences left his mouth as a string of violent barks.

An attendant entered the hall and smashed a baton against a pole. “Oi, settle down! Keep that up and nobody will want you!”

The dog pulled away and fell onto his behind. Then, it let out a defeated scoff. “Nobody would want me anyways. Just do yourself a favor and let me rot on the streets.”

Upon hearing those soft whines, the attendant lowered his arm and walked off. “Atta’boy. Now go take a nap or something.”

And nap he did, having given up on escaping--for now. Laying his head on the cold, hard ground, he fluttered his tired eyes to a close. The next morning when he came to, his nose twitched to an unfamiliar scent. It radiated in waves from the fingers on the other side of the gate. Human fingers.

When he glanced up, someone was crouching in front of him and holding out their hand. “What about this one, Jerry? Is he up for adoption?” They asked with a small smile decorating their lips. Sitting up excitedly at that, he wagged his tail. Anything to get out of here. I'll figure out where to go later. “Aw, I think he understands me!”

“Hm, I suppose he is. But he's got a nasty temper, that one. You might wanna rethink your choice.”

He watched the hope fade from their eyes. “Oh, seriously? That's too bad...” Then, they stood up with a sigh. His tail swished to a stop and slumped. That attendant was right in the end, after all.

“And I thought I could get scary dog privileges. Maybe I should stick with smaller sizes...”

The pair made their way down the hall to look at the other species the center housed, much to his disappointment. “Cheer up! We've got tonnes of other big dogs for you to consider. Not all of them will be fussy living in small spaces. You said you lived alone, didn't you?” His ears perked up at that.

“So long as you take them out on walks, they'll be fine.”

“Maybe. But I might have to go home and take some measurements. These dogs were a little bigger than I expected.” Soft laughs echoed, followed by a door creaking open.

“Totally understandable. You come back another day, eh?”

The door clicked shut, leaving him to his own devices. A single thought occurred to him, and it repeated in his head over and over until it drove him mad. He needed to get out of here. Before some other human set their eyes on him. But how? That question was promptly answered when a chill ran down his spine.

His fur shivered and puffed up as he slowly grew in size.

“Oh crap, I'm out of juice!” As his limbs began to stretch, so did his paws. Soon, they began to resemble fingers, and his panic reached an all-time-high when he realized he was standing on two feet again. That wouldn't have been a problem if he wasn't where he was.

He was stranded in the human world in his beast form.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” Looking down to the spot between his legs, he gawked at another unwelcome discovery. Not only was he locked in a tiny cell, but he was also buck naked! It was only a matter of time before the attendant returned and found him like this. Regardless of his appearance, he was more than certain this warranted the police getting involved.

He already screwed up enough as it was. He definitely couldn't afford to get in trouble with the law in the human world too.

So he resorted to escaping by force. Taking a few steps back, he rammed into the lock. After a few attempts, he smashed through the gate and skidded to a stop. Without a shred of hesitation, he whipped his head to the door and charged right through it. Bursting into the front office, the receptionist screamed at his sudden arrival.

Then, they screamed even louder when they processed just what they were seeing. A humanoid dog.

The sheer volume of their shrieks made his ears tremble. “Oh my god, would you shut up already? I have good hearing, you know?”

Upon hearing him speak--a surefire sign he was indeed human--they reached for the phone beside them. Then, they talked frantically into the speaker, mentioning something along the lines of a naked creep in a fursuit. Now, he had no idea what that strange device was, but he was pretty sure they were alerting the authorities.

“Uh oh.”

For the second day in a row, he was chased by cops through a public sphere. That was one thing that didn't change, even if his setting certainly did. Towering buildings and skyscrapers loomed over him from all directions. Strange lights, posters, and moving pictures bombarded him with seizure-inducing colors.

Even then, he had no chance to take it all in when he was too busy fleeing. “Gah, get out of the way, get out of the way!” He barked.

Shoving through the people crowding the edges of the wide street, he stumbled right in front of a heavy-duty truck barreling at him at thirty miles an hour. He had been so determined to get away from the hoard of humans, he never realized where he wound up.

Before he could be sent flying, he gritted his teeth and jumped out of the way while it swerved into a telephone pole.

Briefly turning back to process the damage he'd done, shock filled him to the brim as he processed the scene of devastation that unfolded before him. But he couldn't linger on it for too long.

“That's the guy! Get him!”

He had to get out of here. But where was he supposed to go?

His nose twitched to a familiar scent. It was the person from this morning! And if he wasn't wrong, he recalled that they lived alone. So he followed the smell, finding himself standing outside of an apartment complex of some kind.

Setting down your things after that short and unproductive trip, you flopped down on the couch and turned on the TV. Police sirens wailed in the distance, but you paid them no mind. Whoever they were chasing, the fugitive was sure to be caught soon enough. Little did you know, you were about to become their accomplice.

A few crisp knocks sounded on the other side of your front door. Without tearing your gaze from the screen, you slid on your slippers. “Coming!” You called. Slowly making your way to answer it, whoever it was that decided to bother you on this fine Sunday morning, you peeked through the peephole to see a pair of tall red ears. Dog ears.

“Huh?” Unlocking the door and creaking it open, albeit only slightly, you poked your head out in confusion. Standing there in all his glory, or its glory, was an anthropomorphic Doberman. If it weren't for these circumstances you met them under, you would have noticed they were a spitting image to the red Doberman in the rescue center. Instead, you were more compelled to fixate on other details.

When he realized where you were staring, he covered himself and grinned sheepishly.

“Uh... Happy birthday?”

The color drained from your face until you were paler than a sheet of paper. Then, you screamed.

He reflected a similar panic, and before you could shut the door in his face, he lunged forward into the frame and pried it open. “Wait, just hear me out! I'm in a bit of a tight spot here!” Given his physical advantages, he triumphed rather easily and forced himself into your home. All you could do was watch, but that didn't mean you couldn't keep screaming.

Rearing his head back as he covered his trembling ears, he shot his arms around you and clamped a hand over your mouth. “Stop screaming for God's sake! I've had it enough with the screaming today!” When you felt his fur against your lips, you only struggled and thrashed harder out of fear.

Regardless of his strength and stature, he couldn't do this all day.

So he tried morphing again. Rather than changing into the dog you saw earlier in the morning, he assumed a form closer to yours. His rusted red fur disappeared along with his tail. The long snout that pressed against your face shortened, and eventually, the arms that held you hostage were human. Or at least, they gave off that impression with his tanned, hairless skin.

You could argue that his transformation made the situation a little less bizarre. A little more manageable. So yes, you stopped moving. Now that you weren't resisting, he assumed you calmed down enough for him to let you go. What a big mistake that was.

The second you were freed, you punched him square in the jaw.

“Gh-!” An explosion of pain spread through his cheek. Turning back to you with teary eyes, he gripped the spot you took the liberty to abuse. “What the hell was that for?!” He spluttered.

“For being naked, you idiot!” You fumed through a blush.

“I thought we already moved past that!”

“We'll move past it once you put some clothes on!”

A little less bizarre? Who were you kidding? His sudden change in appearance only signaled to you he wasn't just your typical creep in a fursuit. As you mulled over the thought, a grim expression contorted at your features. Was this karma for changing your mind about that Doberman? A supernatural reckoning you so deserved for walking away? Needless to say, it was something worth discussing over some food.

“Thanks for the sweatpants, by the way! I'll return it to you later.” Kicking back in a chair, he started snacking on what he found in your pantry.

You avoided his gaze. He stood at least five inches taller than you, and he was certainly bigger than you were. And in more ways than one. “... You can keep it.”

Watching a dog munch on chocolate was not the most comfortable thing to see, either. The same could be said for his hands that picked through a candy box. “Wow, these are great! We don't have stuff like this back where I live.” He mused, throwing another chocolate-covered almond into his mouth. You tensed up.

“Wait, are you saying you've never had chocolate before?” Leaning forward and slamming your hands down on the dining table, you darted your eyes over his unreadable expression for any signs of discomfort. “I can't believe I let you eat it! Just because you can talk and everything!”

“Wha'dya mean I can talk? Of course I can talk!”

Maybe letting him rummage through your pantry was a bad idea.

He licked around his snout and huffed. “Anyway, sure I've eaten it before. Just nothing this good. What did you guys do to this, huh?” You breathed out a sigh of relief at that and sat back down. So you didn't accidentally poison your guest. Some guest he was, though. His name was strangely more down-to-earth than his otherworldly origins.

“Well, it's processed.”

“Processed, huh? I have no idea what that means.” He turned the box over and squinted at the label. “Huh? What language is this?”

“Japanese.”

His brows knitted together and he looked deep in thought. “Hm. I don't know what that is either.”

You laughed under your breath. “Duh. From what you've told me, it wouldn't be wrong to say you were born yesterday.”

“Oi, I'll have you know I was born at least a year ago!”

Allen, the runaway beast, had left his homeworld for the human one. Though chased out was the more accurate way to put it. There was nothing left for him back there, and his only hope of starting over was to take refuge in a foreign land. Perhaps not forever, but at least until he figured out where to go from here. That was what he had in mind.

“I'm not too concerned about you learning anything new. You'll be leaving soon, so.” Standing up with a content smile, you made your way to his side and patted him on the shoulder. The action prompted him to glance up at you with a full mouth. What you said next, however, would make him spit everything out. “You can't stay the night, Allen.”

He spewed almond bits all over the table, much to your disgust. “Wait, what?! I thought you were gonna let me stay! And not even just for a night, maybe for a week or two!”

You gawked in disbelief. “Are you crazy?! I'm not taking you in just because of your sob story. I'm not made of money, you know!” But that wasn't quite it, either. You were prepared to raise a dog, a big one at that, for protection purposes. The problem wasn't money.

The problem was that he wasn't human.

His ears drooped and he shot you his best puppy dog eyes he could muster. But you stayed strong. It was what he later added that jabbed at your strong resolve. “Aw, come on. Weren't you planning to adopt a dog like me? What's the difference?” Allen pouted. The sound of him reiterating exactly what was on your mind made you freeze up.

“It'll be the same as having a pet, I swear! Maybe even better--I know how to use a toilet!”

“Of course you know how to use a toilet!” You interjected, pulling away shortly to let out a sharp, frustrated sigh. “You're not a pet, Allen. You're a person, well, a dog person. You're not helpless without an owner! And what if somebody hunts me down and for keeping you here?” As much of a point you had, he didn't stop there.

Everything in his life boiled down to this moment. If he couldn't convince you to let him stay, there was no saying where he would end up. So he would do everything in his power to give you that one last push.

Standing up from his chair, he morphed into a human. Or tried with what was left of his energy. While his red ears and tail remained, there was nothing else reminiscent of the beast he was. “If you're worried about what I am, then I'll stay like this. Without the ears and tail, I mean.” His furry appendage swished at that.

“And I'll help you with house chores. I'm more capable than I look, I promise!”

You furrowed your brows and sighed for what felt like the tenth time that day. You couldn't believe it, but he was steadily chipping away at your resolve. So you turned away. “Mm, I don't know. This is a lot to ask from someone, especially if you aren't helping with the bills.”

Allen lit up, sensing your change of heart. So he jumped in front of you. “I'll do anything to make up for it!” He grinned, his energetic outburst catching you off-guard. There was something about his body language and attitude that perfectly embodied a loyal dog eager to please its owner. It was probably because of that tail of his that wagged with great gusto.

Among other things, you supposed.

“I'll be everything you need! A pet, a bodyguard, househusband, whatever you like!” Your attention was piqued at the mention of bodyguard. But when you processed the rest of his sentence, you lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Who said I needed a househusband?” You frowned.

Allen blinked. “Was that too much?” He grinned toothily. “Then how about a live-in boyfriend?”

With every shred of your willpower, you held back the urge to punch him. You already bruised him enough for today. “If you want me to consider taking you in, make me something for lunch! If it's acceptable, I might let you stay.” Shoving him into the kitchen at that, you pulled your apron off its hook and tossed it his way. “And do the dishes, too!”

“Alright, alright, jeez! Have some faith in me, won't you? I used to work in a diner, ya know?” The man swatted you gently with his tail. But you only pulled it much to his surprise.

“Used to. You probably got fired.”

Allen ignored that comment. “Watch where you touch, babe. You're moving a little too fast, even for me--Ow!”

#hetalia fanfiction #hetalia fanfic #axis powers ヘタリア #hetalia world series #2p!americaxreader #2p america #2p america x reader #x reader #beast #boy and the beast #bakemono no ko #hybrid #inu #allen jones #fantasy

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tooruluv · 3 years

Text

Kei Tsukishima x F!Reader ( part 7 ) [ final ]

❝ they were the sun and moon, destined to be together but only ever totally meeting once every hundred years or so. ❞

description: in a world where you only see color when you're in love, you've grown frustrated of the greyscale. but falling in love with someone you barely know was never something you planned. and, him not returning the feelings definitely wasn’t planned.

genre: soulmate au... except not quite. everyone is born colorblind. you can only see color once you fall in love (and it grows brighter until you see full color as the love grows). however, that doesn't ensure a lasting connection. it simply means that love exists in that moment, until it doesn't.

word count: 1,879

warnings/notes: that’s all folks!! thank you all for reading and leaving feedback on this one <3 it was my first time writing a soulmate au so i hope it was okay for the most part fsjklhalfkh anyway! enjoy and please leave feedback <3

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“ if you could only see how blue her eyes could be.. ” - if you could only see, tonic

┏━━━━━⋇⋆⋆⋇❦⋇⋆⋆⋇━━━━━┓

You decided to keep your distance. You couldn’t be his friend when your heart continued to be shattered at a measly “no”.

As he walked you home in silence that night, you considered a thousand different ways to get rid of the colors. To get rid of the love you had for him.

It was incredibly toxic, you thought, to continue to be friends with a boy your heart pined for.

You still volunteered with the Karasuno team. It was a bit strange, though, because you would do your best to either stay behind with Hinata and Kageyama, or you would leave with Ukai. Anything to get you out of walking with Tsukki and Yamaguchi.

Hinata was the first one to notice that things weren’t the same (always the observant one).

“Did something happen with you and Tsukki?” He asked you after practice as the both of you cleaned up the last of the volleyballs.

“I can see color, and he can’t.” You confided.

“We knew that.”

You chuckled, considering if you should tell him. In the end, you figured “what’s the harm?”, so you said, “We kissed. And even after that, he still couldn’t see color.”

He audibly gasped. “Oh. I’m so sorry.”

“It is not your place to be sorry.” You fluffed his hair. “Are you all done for the night?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Staying away from Tsukishima was harder than you anticipated.

He was in your class, he had lunch the same time, he was on the team you voluntarily helped with. Everywhere you went, he seemed to be there.

“Do you really think the colors will finally go away?” Haru asked you.

You three were sitting at a picnic table at lunch. It had been almost a week of avoiding the boy and the colors were still as vibrant as ever. You figured falling out of love would be harder than falling into it.

“I hope so.”

At the same time, Tsukki and Yamaguchi walked by. They both looked your direction, and you only exchanged a small look with Yamaguchi.

“They miss you.”

“I know.” You returned to your food, no longer hungry. “I miss them, too.”

One day at Blu, Tsukishima had come in with only sweatpants and a hoodie on. He seemingly just woke up and rushed out without thinking much of it.

You thought he looked handsome no matter his attire.

“What can I get for you today, Kei?” You asked in your usual customer service voice.

He didn’t glance at you as he ordered his usual black coffee.

You were about to punch it into the register when he added, “And a blueberry muffin.”

“I heard that blueberry muffins are actually purple.” You offered as conversation. Not that you knew what either of the colors looked like.

“That’s stupid.” was his reply.

After a month of avoiding the boy, you were growing frustrated. The colors hadn’t even dimmed, let alone left. They were still bright and loud.

It was like a taunt every time you woke up.

You shoved an (obnoxious) bright yellow shirt on as you cleaned your room. It was an old softball practice shirt that you found in the bottom of your drawer. You had no idea back then how incredibly bright a lot of your clothes were. Why did your mother let you leave the house?

It was a weekend, and you figured that cleaning your space would also help in clearing your mind. Putting on the shirt was your way of saying “fuck you” to the colors.

As you blasted music, a knock on your door interrupted.

“What did you do to her?” Yamaguchi asked Tsukishima the day after the kiss.

“What do you mean?”

“You did something to her.” He crossed his arms. “What did you do? She won’t talk to either of us, like I have some part of whatever fucked up shit you did.”

“I…” Tsukishima pushed up his glasses. “I kissed her. Well. We kissed.”

Yamaguchi nodded, thoughts processing. “Then you rejected her again right after, didn’t you?”

“Am I supposed to lie?”

“Yes.” He shrugged. “But you’ve been doing that a lot, huh?”

The knocking on your door persisted, and you eventually gave in and answered.

With a hard swing of the door, you sighed, very irritated, “What?”

Kei Tsukishima stood in front of you, hand still above your head in an attempt to knock again. His eyes made contact with yours. Those golden fucking eyes.

“You’re avoiding me.”

“No shit.”

“Why?”

“Why?” You scoffed incredulously. “You’re kidding, right? Why am I avoiding you?”

“Yeah.” Tsukki seemed sincerely confused as he shoved his hands back into his pockets. “What did I do?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. You shook your head, looking away from his eyes.

He said, “It isn’t like I’ve lied to you.”

“That’s true. You’ve been brutally honest.”

“Then.. why are you avoiding me?” Tsukki tried to catch your eyes again.

“Because every second with you hurts, Tsukki.” Your frustration echoed in your voice. “Every second that I spend with you is a painful reminder that you don’t and won’t feel the same way about me that I feel for you. And you constantly remind me of that little detail.”

Without a moment of hesitation he said, “Telling you that I don’t love you back should help you. I don’t see what your issue is.”

“You don’t see what my issue is?” You put your hand back on the doorknob. “How’s this: my issue is you.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m done, Tsukki.” You met his gaze. “I’m done. I tried to be your friend, I tried to get rid of the stupid colors. But everything I do only makes them worse. And you consistently telling me that you don’t see the same that I do and always being an avid reminder that you don’t love me back… it sucks. And I can’t do it anymore. It’s draining.”

“So you’re going to… what exactly?” His voice got louder. Angrier. “Just forget that I exist and never talk to me, or Yamaguchi, or the team again?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, clearly still pissed off. “That’s the plan.”

You were pissed that he came to your house a month after you stopped talking to him. You were pissed that all of this started with your stupid part time job. You were pissed that he was standing in front of you looking fine as hell. You were pissed that you still saw colors with every waking moment.

You were pissed that you fell into an unrequited love.

“You can’t just…”

“But I can.”

“No, you can’t!” His voice got louder. You could raise your voice, too.

“Yes, I fucking can, Kei.” You told him. “You don’t know how many times that I’ve tried to get rid of these stupid fucking colors. I’m so over looking like an idiot because of the one person who…”

“Can you shut the fuck up for just a second, I can’t even pay attention to what you’re saying with that bright ass yellow shirt you have on.” Tsukki interrupted, grimacing as he looked away.

The entire world froze around you. He seemed to figure out what he said far too late, closing his eyes. Your heart seized in your chest and you felt as though you just got the wind knocked out of you.

“Wh.. what did you just say?” Your eye twitched.

“Hm?” Tsukki turned to you, pretending to be oblivious.

“What did you just say, Tsukki?” You felt tears arriving, but you were forcing yourself to stare at him. “How long have you… How long have you been able to see color?”

“Since I ordered my first black coffee.” He stated. As if it was nothing.

As if it didn’t matter.

“You…” You let the tears free fall down your cheeks. But you laughed. “You could see color this entire time?”

“Just listen…”

“No! No.” You took a step back, putting distance between you and the cause of your heartache. “You just claimed to have never lied to me, yet you’ve been lying to me this entire fucking time.”

He started to say something, perhaps explain himself. But you could barely breathe.

If your heart hadn’t been damaged enough by his constant rejections and painful “no”s, it was completely shattered now.

“You let me believe this entire time that you didn’t feel the same way about me.” You could taste your tears, but ignored it. “For nearly a fucking year, you watched me go through hell. You let me ruin my own heart and let me become frustrated with my own fucking life. You kissed me and then told me that you didn’t love me. You…”

“I love you.” He interrupted, trying to get you to stop yelling.

It was the first time he had said it, and it had slipped past his tongue as if he had been meaning to say it for months.

“I guess it’s a bit late for that.”

You watched as the colors drained from the world. Your focus turned back to the greyscale as if a vacuum sucked every single color that had existed.

The last color you watched dissipate was the gold in his eyes.

fin.

tag list: @vhskenma @elianetsantana @mini-eggs-reads @ysasian @hhwanggu @i-stole-your-juice-box @definitelynotbianca @denkithunder @smuttyanimeslut @yourlocalbabybird @theydy-madamonsieur @expiredbananamilk @sunandtsukki @babyoomi @alwaysbeanunknownfan

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sabinanotfound · 3 years

Text

Chapter 1- Sweet Dreams (To Wilbur Soot. Sincerely, y/n. SERIES)

Pairing: Wilbur Soot x fem!reader

Warnings: none!

A/N: i hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I did. Sending my love.

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prologue

y/n watches the boy. Something about him is charming, perhaps his contagious laugh or his eyes. She can’t quite put her finger on it, but not like she needs to or anything.

Moonlight shines through the surprisingly big windows for such a small apartment, not that she minds. The view is gorgeous but she doesn’t notice it, eyes still glued to the screen of her phone. She had lost track of time while watching the boy and when she finally looks at the clock, she is startled. 3 AM? What?

She blinks a few times to let her eyes adjust to the dark room after staring at her screen for three hours.

I should head to bed, she thinks. Her heart aches at the remembrance of all the work she has to do the next day.

She closes her phone and sits for a while, before dragging herself to bed.

She was running in a field, almost like she weighed nothing. The sun had just set. She understood that from the darkening sky tinted with pink and purple shades. No one was around, and she didn’t know why or where she was running. Until she saw a silhouette in the distance- a tall figure of a male. As he got closer, she could be able to make out his features, and she was surprised when she saw who it was.

Running towards her was-

Wilbur has never felt so free. The feeling of his bare feet touching the soft grass while he ran towards something-someone was the best he’s ever felt. He got curious. Where was he running? How did he know that he was going to meet someone in that field? He ran until he saw a blurry female silhouette. He got closer. He didn’t recognize the young woman but it was obvious that she was around his age; maybe a little younger. Her features looked so fragile but he got the impression that if she had to, she could handle the world on those small shoulders. Her face was very beautiful. Wilbur felt like he was looking at a goddess. y/h/c hair, y/e/c eyes, and her face shape came together perfectly. He couldn’t help but stare at her a little longer to memorize every inch of her face. She seemed confused, almost like she recognized him. They made eye contact and Wilbur saw so much depth in her eyes that he could get lost while looking at him. She opened her mouth to say something, but he woke up, leaving a permanent image of the beautiful young woman in his brain.

y/n shoots up from her laying position. That dream- it felt so real. She knows who she saw in her dream- she is just surprised that her brain was so focused on the previous night’s video where she saw him -Wilbur Soot- that she saw him in her dream?

She takes a deep breath. She doesn’t have time to think about this, as she has to get up. She lazily throws the covers off of herself and goes to the bathroom. She carefully combs out her hair and brushes her teeth. She doesn’t want to be late so she is quick with her morning routine.

She gets dressed and grabs her keys and her bag, exiting the apartment.

Wilbur sits in his chair and sighs. He just started editing but he is already exhausted. And bored. He walks to his living room where he has a mini-library. He likes reading and often buys books. His collection is quite big, and it’s growing day by day. He grabs a book he’s been recently reading and sits on the couch. Opening his book, he lets the imaginary world of books engulf him into another world, far away from reality.

y/n is once again sat at her desk. She wants to be finished with her schoolwork as fast as possible so she could watch Wilbur’s streams. She is still thinking about her previous dream, and she kind of wants to see him again, in that field, far away from all the world’s problems while the sky turned from pink to purple, and from purple to dark blue. She finally finishes, her desire to go back to the comfort of the boy’s voice made her feel growing with every minute.

A notification comes to her phone, signaling that yet another stream of his had started a few minutes ago. y/n excitedly clicks it and is immediately taken to the Twitch app where she once again, sees him. Just like the person she saw in her dreams. Another stream goes by, without y/n even noticing. She gets up from the couch she’s been occupying for the past one and a half hour and stretches.

“That was a good stream,” she says to herself “but I should probably head to bed.”

The dream picks up from where it stopped the previous night. This time Wilbur knows what, who was waiting him in that field and can’t stop but take in her beautiful features once again, even though the image of the beautiful girl replayed in his mind throughout the whole day, making him memorize it. They meet in the middle and stand there; trying to understand what was going on.

“Hey” the beautiful girl starts, her voice filling Wilbur’s ears. He doesn’t think he has heard such an angelic sound before.

“Hi.” His voice is slightly louder than hers, yet she doesn’t seem bothered by that. She smiles and introduces herself.

“My name’s y/n, what’s yours?” She asks. Her voice makes Wilbur crave for more. He could listen to her saying anything for hours. Both of their voices are slightly higher than whispers but everything is audible, and Wilbur has a feeling that the field might be the reason for that. Almost as if it was magical.

“I’m Wilbur... this place is so pretty... where are we?” She chuckles carelessly.

“In our heads, I suppose. Does is matter to you, Wilbur?” The way his name comes out of her mouth is so gentle; and he catches himself staring at her again.

“N-no. I suppose not, y/n.”

“y/n, y/n, y/n” the way he says her name echoes through her mind, was she falling for a boy she barely knows? But it doesn’t matter. This is all happening in her head, so she might as well enjoy it. y/n offers to walk through the field with him. He enthusiastically agrees and they make small talk while walking. y/n can hear cricket noises from the distance and she can feel the soft grass brush agains her bare ankles.

“So... Wilbur, tell me a little about yourself.” She says softly, enjoying the warm presence of the British boy. As they walk, their shoulders touch ever so slightly. The contact sends butterflies into y/n’s stomach.

“Well... this might sound kind of lame, but I- well, I stream on Twitch and play Minecraft.” y/n is confused.

“Why would it be lame? I love watching your streams!” y/n blurts out and then blushes. “I- I’m sorry. That sounded kinda weird.” y/n awkwardly smiles. Wilbur on the other hand, is practically glowing.

“No way! Weird? Not at all. Please never apologize for being the brightest person in the room. Although, technically, we aren’t in a room now.” He states, laughing at himself, making y/n laugh too. She is about to thank him for the compliment, but just as she opens her mouth, she wakes up.

Taglist: @stxrryb1tch @m1lkmandan (please send an ask to be added to my taglist!)

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downywrites · 3 years

Text

I feel bad for my radio silence, so please have the draft lol

Skeppy finds that there is a way to tame beasts without ever drawing his sword.

Skeppy was not fond of the nether. It was hot. It was humid and dry, all in the wrong places. The piglins were rude to him, the hoglins were wild and liked to cause him all kinds of trouble, and the netherrack burned his skin whenever he touched it. He had no kind of interest in the area, he really didn’t.

And yet, he found himself floundering in the vastness of the nearest nether fortress. The almost-black bricks were refreshingly cold under his hands, a breath of fresh air within the stuffy stratosphere of the nether. He glanced bemusedly at his compass, the usually faithful tool rendered completely useless by the biome. “Prime, where the hell is the exit of this damn place?” The sounds of zombie piglins groaning in the background echoed through the halls, making him shiver. “Ugh, just get me out of here already…” The diamond-encrusted hybrid’s feet made slight screeching noises as he scrabbled for a good grip on the tile. He tried his best to ignore them. “Come on, come on…” As he weaved through familiar hallways and rooms, his impatience bubbled at the top of his throat, begging to be let out. His tail lashed impatiently as he walked. After a few more minutes of searching, he threw his hands up in the air in annoyance, making a few confused piglins grunt and turn to look at each other. “Are you serious? Just get me out of here, Primedamnit!”

He growled under his breath, exposing a few filed down teeth as he did. In the back of his mind, he hoped he didn’t make the piglins angry. Slamming his eyes shut, he tuned into the air around him, trying to sense any sort of familiar substances around him. ‘If I can’t get out of here, at the very least, I’m taking some loot with me.” The vibrations of gold armor around him squealed loudly, but he ignored it for the sake of finding some diamonds or some larger portions of treasure. The heat of the fortress pressed down on the hybrid. “Is there anything nearby, or did I get into this mess for literally nothing?” Opening his eyes to glare at the piglins, he scowled at the floor he walked on, stomping wildly like a child having a tantrum. As he walked, he continued to tune in, clinging onto the idea he had in mind. ‘If there is nothing in the whole of this place, I might as well just go and troll someone by telling them to come to these coordinates.’ He chuckled to himself. ‘That would be funny to see.’ Before he could continue on his train of thought, a large ping made him gasp. Blueberry colored eyes widened at the sheer mass of diamonds and gold directly below him. “Holy shit!” Kneeling down to touch the floor, the vibrations of the valuables had him shaking with excitement. “Jackpot!” He ruffled through his bag, careful not to drop anything as he did so. He wasn’t one to leave anything around, not when there are piglins nearby. Within moments, he had made a hole in the floor, the small area inside dark and black as pitch. “Well, here goes nothing.”

He sincerely regretted the way he entered the cave or riches. Like the intelligent, mature human being he was, he had left his bag just barely out of reach, his pickaxe inside of it. And, in a similarly benevolent and logical fashion, Skeppy had immediately tried to escape the hole with his entire torso already in it to grab the item. Ironically enough, the world had it out for him. Why? He certainly didn’t know. But whatever karmic god he had pissed off was really, really mad at him that day. Because when he reached out to grab it, the whole of the ceiling crumbled, taking him down with it. In short, he was not having a good day. A small sigh escaped his lips, rubbing his head from where he had smacked it on the floor a little. “Ow. Jeez, why does everything hate me so much?” The whining noise of gold and the gentle pinging of diamonds surrounded him. His eyes gazed upwards at the small cascade of light above him from his endeavor. “Fuck, how am I supposed to get back up?” His eyes darted over the shadows of riches untold, drinking in the glitter of blue and yellow in the soft, barely visible light. “Hmph.” Crossing his arms and pouting, he rested against a firm chunk of nether brick, gold clinking around him as he did. “Guess I’ll just rest for a bit. It’s not like some fuck’s gonna get me here.” As if the gods themselves had it out for him one last time, the sound of valuables clinking to the floor startled him back to his feet. Legs wobbling from the effort and the sheer waves of fear he felt rippling through his body, he got into the best fighting stance he could and turned to face the source of the noise. The shimmering lights shifted in from of him, like a tide of danger forming to wash him and his ignorance away. Once again, the back of his mind informed him that perhaps he should have listened to the others when they said not to try anything stupid. ‘Then again, who would I be if I didn’t do anything stupid? Isn’t that my defining characteristic?’

That was the defining thought in the front of his mind when the shadow growled, white eyes slowing and casting a beam of light directly at his trembling form. Not exactly the best way to start off a fight, he would say. His knuckles gleamed back at the creature, sending light bouncing off of its scales. It snarled, a loud, guttural noise that threatened to take him down without a single point of contact with the beast. “W-would you believe me if I said that I didn’t mean to come down here?” Heated breath, even warmer than the outside air in the nether’s outdoors, buffeted his face and forced him to dig into the ground as much as he could just to stay standing. The shape shifted into the light, glimmering scales morphing into an identifiable (and distinctly terrifying) muzzle shape above him. Little diamonds skittered on the floor as it moved. Tiny little pinpricks of glitter and noise danced in his eardrums through the cacophony of screeching rocks and piglin shrieks and the musty, dank breath of death looking above him. Eyes struggling to focus on the the looming shadow that was beginning to block out the little light he had, he yelled up to the creature in panic. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Don’t fucking kill m-” An even louder growl hummed through the air. It opened its maw, nether vines and natural substances writhing like snakes on its face and horns. “Language.” If this were any other situation, Skeppy would have laughed. ‘It languaged me? A gigantic nether mob that is trying to kill me LANGUAGED ME?’ Unfortunately for him, he had no time to laugh as a large claw came down, large sinewy fingers extended outwards toward him. With a rather unmanly shriek, he vaulted himself onto a mountain of gold coins, running up it as well as he could. He spluttered as a few coins somehow found their way into his mouth, metallic taste staying in his mouth for several moments longer that they should have. All the while, the claws reaching out for him continued to swipe at his form. The wind from its movements blew into his face, causing him to take a step back. “Woah, woah- AGH!” The foothold below him shifted like dunes in the desert. With a small exclamation, he fell onto his butt, eyes wide with fear. A beam of light fell upon his form, a low, guttural growl singing through the air. “You have trespassed. And you broke my ceiling. You will pay.” Its low voice reginited the pit of fear that was currently planting its roots into his stomach. He scuttled back, shaking his head no. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, p-promise!”

A large claw encapsulated him, tight and rough around him. The diamond hybrid scrabbled and squirmed in his grip, spouting fear-fueled insults and small, very fake reasons for breaking and entering, literally. A single squeeze to his midsection made his voice freeze and choke up in his throat. “Silence.” A white-eyes glare sent him reeling. ‘Too bright!’ “You have caused me problems.” Another squeeze made the bright light look like a vignette for a moment. Unable to speak, he scrabbled even more at the scales on the claw that held him, trying to find a soft spot to prod. A snarl rippled through the air, the vines on its muzzle swaying from side to side dangerously. “You will pay for your crimes-” A small, almost comically high-pitched yelp escaped the dragon-like creature. The grasp on his torso lessened. With it, came extra clarity on what he was doing exactly. There, right at the smallest spot where the underside of its wrist and lower palm melded into one, was a barely noticeable irregularity. Without knowing it, Skeppy had scribbled his nails over it. He raised a single eyebrow, unable to censor the words that tumbled out of his mouth. “You’re..ticklish? I big, strong creature of the nether.. Is ticklish?”

A series of sputtered, rumbling words didn’t help the creature’s case. “No, that’s not.. No. It’s not that, it’s sensitive. I swear on the bastions, do not- ACK!” Skeppy dug his nails back into the spot, giggling at the noise he got in return. “Aha, take that!” A frustrated, chuckly laugh made his very bones vibrate. “You know what, forget it. I’m going to put you down, and you...leave. Just leave. Do not mess with me anymore, got it?” He nodded in agreement. ‘I am so not going to let this slide. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? I die?’ The air wooshed around him, the only indication that he was moving downwards beside the glaring beams of light flicking around the area. As his feet touched the ground, he squirmed out of its grasp impatiently. “I can get down by myself, thank you. And,” he pointed up at the creature with a grin, “I’d like to see your face. Do you have a human form or something? And like, a light? I promise I won’t take any of your stuff for myself if you do.” The sound of scales scraping against metal made him wince. “Are you really making a demand out of me? Badboyhalo, the great demon of the Nether?” He sharply retorted, “Well, I can certainly say I have something, saying that I have blackmail on you right now! How would everyone react to word that you are ticklish?”

A sigh, much smaller than the other vocalizations from the beast, echoed through the room. “Fine, then.” Skeppy craned his neck to look at the shadowy shape, desire to watch the beast transform outweighing he dangers of doing so. However, all too soon, it was over. It didn’t take long for a shape to climb out of the scales they had shed, shaking off a few pieces of extra skin and ragged things he wasn’t quite able to make out. With a stretch of their back, a pair of wings, ragged and sharp in all the right places, flapped outwards from behind him. As they came closer, it was more and more obvious that the person was not human. From the red-tipped horns pointing upwards from their head, to the obviously inhuman pair of bat-demonic wings, all the way down to their lower back, which sported an appendage that was reminiscent of one of his friend’s old card decks full of angels and hell-demons of long ago. The flat, spade like appendage sported the same color scheme as their horns, pitch at the base and a shade of maroon crimson, quite like blood, at the tip. It gave their body a form that certainly reminded him of the towering creature that loomed above him minutes before. Their white, glowing eyes had not changed either.

They stopped a few feet away from him.

“Happy now?” Skeppy hesitated for a moment, confused, before remembering it was just him in the room. “Ah, sorry, you look really...cool! And yeah, it’s all good. Thanks for not, clobbering me, I guess?’ Looking straight into the demon’s eyes, he learned, was a bit of a challenge. They were double his height, and certainly didn’t look like they cared much about changing it. They scoffed, but it didn’t seem to be an insult, more of a normal, reflexive reaction. “It’s fine. Are you going to go now?” Skeppy pondered that for a moment. “Perhaps, but...I wanted to know something- no, two things.” They leaned in closer, eyes narrowing in a look unrecognizable to him. Perhaps irritation? “First thing, what’s your gender and your name? And second…” He looked at him dead in the eyes, gaze unwavering, even though the glare that seemed to burn in his retinas tingled a bit on his face. “Do you get a lot of affection, as the ‘great demon of the nether’?” Putting air quotes around the title made the demon look the slightest bit annoyed at the gem, but he didn’t care much at all about it. “I am male. And my name's Badboyhalo, if you didn’t hear earlier.” He balked slightly at the last question. “Affection...What do you mean by that?”

A small gasp of shock ripped from his throat, but he tried to play it off with a cough. A questioning eyebrow dispelled that idea quickly. “Is it something rude? Did I say something wrong?” Badboyhalo growled lowly. “If you made me say something bad, I will not hesitate to send you back where you came from with a tapestry shredded on your back.” The gem hybrid winced at the imagery that flashed to mind. He flailed his arms a little, shaking his head vehemently. “No, no! I’m just a little…worried for you, is all.” A scoff. “Worried? For me? And not for you? You have a lot of nerves for a strider-rider.”

#Lee!bad #Ler!skeppy #Dsmp tickle #mcyt tickle #tickle fic #sort of there’s not that much tickling rn lol #I’ll connect the queue thing once I update this #Downywrites #Downy writes

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lstories · 3 years

Text

Noah's perspective: Life Under The Sea

4 story's in the works and 2 more I'm still drafting and I decided I'll make a new story and complete it first. I love mer story's and mer vore story's so I wanted to try one were the mer is the tiny. I Read a story a while back that I heavily baced this one off of but couldn't find it again, if anyone knows it could you tell me so I could link it.

(Safe, soft, vore, willing prey, semi willing pred, cursing, tw blood, tw alcohol, tw panic attacks. Sounds worse than it is)

Word Count: 4,589

"This is going to sting a little"

"GAAH! That was more than a sting and you know it"

"There is only four more shots to go, your doing great"

"ONLY!"

Noah was freaking out, one of his biggest fears was the ocean and he was being sent down to the depths on an exploratory mission to see what was taking out all the drones and to set the first colony underwater. He was a military jet pilot, this was the last thing he should be doing, even for disciplinary actions. They call it a joy ride for a reason and he wasn't the only person involved so why was he the only one being punished this harshly. He looked out the window and saw the waves, no land in sight. Noah felt like he was going to vomit.

"Why do I need shots anyway, I'm going to the depth of the corAL FOREST! GAH! Give me a warning! FUCK THAT HURTS!

"It only hurts beacuse you're tense, just relax"

"Relax! I-I can't just... it's not that simple!"

"Here, just breathe, listen to the waves"

He did as the nurse said, he listened to the waves crash against the ship. Could he feel the ship rocking faster? Were the waves getting louder? A sharp pain in his back brought him back to reality.

"JESUS! That doesn't help at all"

"Just find something that makes you calm cause I'm getting tired of trying to be a good nurse"

"Just tell me about the shots, what are they supposed to do while I'm down there. J- AAHH! FUCK"

"God your a wimp. (sigh) The extreme pressure underneath will be extremely pressing and will collapse your body without proper training. As a pilot your training should help you stay underwater for an extended period of time, even if your outside your suit for whatever reason. There will still be things we or you cant control without these injections though. The extreme pressure will aid in the genesis process we are subjecting you to and will allow you to stay underwater for an extended period of time without injury and could potentially increase life expectancy, muscle and tissue generation, mussels and tissue durability and flexibility, sight, hearing, touch, taste, smell and a decrease in hunger and digestive abilities allowing you to go days with a full stomach from food you ate last week. If you decide to continue past your one year stay the effects would only continue to be enhanced without further genetic engineering. If and most likely when you come back up, you would have muscle and bone density strong enough to move a car and barely break a sweat. Please look over to the cat poster"

"What caAA-... helped a bit, your talking helped a bit"

"You're all set, please leave and put on the wet suit then go to the drop pod."

"Ya, thanks for the-"

"Leave"

"Yep"

Noah walked down the corridors of the ship, passing closed doors and soldiers in military uniforms. Eventually he came by his room and walked in. He didn't have much in his room but then again he was only staying on the ship for one night before he would be sent down into the ocean. He looked out the window and it finally dawned on him that this was the last time he was going to be above water for possibly over a year. His mind started to race as his breath quickened, he wasn't ready for this. He walked further into his room and steadied himself on the table, his breathing started to get shakey as he vividly thought about every tiny thing that could go horribly wrong. The windows in the ship could shatter, or they might land unevenly and get stuck in the drop pod. He glanced to the mini fridge and stumbled over to it, catching himself and forcing himself not to curl up on the ground. He opened the small fridge, he felt the wave of cool air wash over him, he realized how much sweat was pouring off him before he reached into the back, pulling out a beer from a six pack, it was the last one. He idly flicked the cap with the nail of his thumb as sat down on his bed and closed his eyes, he hasn't had a drink in over a decade but the minor actions calmed him anyway. His nail was already going white with scratch marks and the tip of his thumb started bleading as the cap started to tear away at the scab that formed from the past few days of him doing this. He slowly opened his eyes, his hands were shaking and blood was spilling down his wrist and the neck of the bottle. He got up and threw the whole bottle away, he walked into the bathroom and bent over the sink, just trying to hold himself up.

Noah held the hand that was bleading to steady it and washed it off, he fumbled around the cabinet above the sink for something. Noah had no idea what he was looking for, there was this awful noise in his ears and he couldn't focus. He shook his head to clear the voice before auctly paying attention to what he was looking for. He grabbed the gauze and small tube of neosporin and stared applying it to his thumb. After a few seconds of calming himself down he looked in the mirror, right over his shoulder and to the garbage can. They weren't allowing anyone with anything above a 0.0 BAC underwater so that was a good thing, or a horrible thing depending on how you looked at it. Noah wished he could break his promise and grab that beer out of the trash, but he couldn't, he wouldn't break his promise, no matter how much he didn't want to go. Noah sat there for a few minutes, he didn't think, he didn't talk, he just stared at himself. His golden blond hair was a scraggly, matted mess from all his sweat and he was starting to grow a thin stubble of a beard that was just as golden as his hair. Unfortunately for him they didn't allow razors or any sort of non military accepted knife on the ship either. His eyes didn't help his look, a deep and uncanny looking brown was where his iris should be. Not a normal or pretty brown, not even ugly brown but something that looked like every color mixed together improperly somehow. He took one last look over himself before speaking. "What would she think of you now" he shallowly laughed at himself before returning to his bed.

On the pillow was a small case about the size of his palm. He opened it and pulled put a small black roll that he looked over for a few seconds. They said it would be on his bed when he returned but this couldn't be it, could it? He ran his non bleading thumb over it until his nail caught something. He pinched the small little clip and let it unfurl, it just kept rolling and rolling, eventually it split off into three different rolls and the middle one split again into two more. Eventually it stoped, it was deffenetly a suit but it was way to thin, he gently rubbed part of it between his fingers and it gave way much more easily than he thought it would. It started to fill with air and expand horizontally as it stretched to his proportions. It was a thin black suit with orange around the wrists and face. He slipped into it, taking much longer than it should of before he took of. He ran down the hallway, he was deffenetly late as he passed more and more empty room's. He wanted to hide, he wanted to run back to his room and sleep it away but it was either this or he was fired.

He turned a corner and almost ran into the general, immediately turning and running into the small line of people and found a spot. A scientist walked over and handed him a glass plate and some gloves. Noah immediately put the gloves on and held the glass plate under his arm like everyone else. The colonel stated to talk and Noah immediately started to drift off, he didn't care what he was saying and he'd let his subconscious remember everything for him. Somthing about new technologies, making a new world under the old, and unknown life forms. Eventually everyone put on there masks and Noah followed suit, putting it on. The orange--- whatever the suit was made out of extended and gripped the small glass plate and stuck it to his face. After a while and more nonsense talking a few people were taken away by the scientists. After a bit of silence everyone was guided onto the drop pod, luckily it didn't have any windows and Noah felt a bit happier about that.

There was about eight people left overall, some crying, some talking to others and some sleeping like Noah. After a bit (and a quick nap) a bunch of metal clanks were heard above them as everything became a little lighter. It took over four hours to finally hit the bottem, small bumps of flesh on metal and loud echoing scratches were occasionally heard on the way down. Almost everyone was silent for the entire trip, everyone was on high alert the entire way down. When everyone got up and started to bustle around to grab supplies, Noah still sat in some form of shock. He eventually got up, and walked to the wall, a small black pack with his name and the word scavenger printed underneath. "Great, just great" he said as he walked to the pressure chamber and let the water start flowing in around him. His mind immediately betrayed him, his suit could be flawed and he'd drown, his training might not come in handy and he would be crushed, or there could be a monster outside that was already killing the rest of his team. He could feel a dribble of sweat rundown his face as the door opened.

He slightly walked/stumbled outside once the door was open. It was a sight to behold, people were already setting up futuristic buildings with a small handheld printers, others were already picking up scrap metal and other things then scanning them with some type of other small gun and they disappeared into nothingness. Noah took a step forward, he wasn't ready for a small bounce when he set his foot back down. He slightly swayed his arms and swam a bit. He slowly fell back to the ground and laughed a bit, maybe this wouldn't be so bad. He looked over to someone on top of the drop pod attaching lights to the top, as one turned on he saw a group of three people holding futuristic rifles and shoulder mounted plasma cannons. Past them was the coral forest, deep blue coral taller than some trees on the surface were growing strait from the ground and if Noah wasn't mistaken, the glowing rainbow swirling up the coral was algae. He took his focus off them and reached into his pack, it almost seamed like it fused with his suit. He grabbed a small device from the pack and studied it for a while. It looked like half of a gun, something he should combine with something else. Looking back the saw the people talking the scrap also had the same gun, he put two and two together and started looking for something to use it on. Eventually he found a small piece of a ship wreck and scanned it, the light shining over the piece of orange metal was intriguing to Noah and he watched the small piece of metal disappear into a small stream of bubbles. He watched the bubbles rise and rise... and rise. His breath started to quicken as he remembered he was underwater. He fell to a knee and clutched his sides, he could feel his heart beating against his ribs. This was going to be a long year.

Time skip: 1 Month Later

Noah was starting to get used to the ocean. His panic attacks had almost come to a complete halt as he stopped thinking about where he was. If he didn't move his limbs to fast he could almost picture it as a different planet, say for the lack of stars in the pitch black sky. Everyone started to make there own houses and buildings, the infrastructure of a city was already starting to appear. There has only been one known casualty, a man was on a scavenging run and fell into a magma chamber. The suits were designed to be able to take the heat of magma and it did, the suit was undamaged. Unfortunately that guy didn't like to wear gloves and the heat spread threw his hands to the rest of his body like a conductor. The exploration team that went into the corral forest also never came back and were presumed MIA and no more manned explorations were allowed into the forest. Noah was now the only scavenger left as his team all started to do what they were higherd to do, and his team needed supply's. Luckily their radars found an old German U boat that he could scavenge, unluckily it was on the edge of the corral forest and a two day's trip to get there.

Noah set out, his pack still had some rations and regular food after all this time. He didn't think that this food would last him a month let alone a year but he barely had to eat anything. He was running on an empty stomach for the past few days and he wasn't hungry at all. He walked along the edge of the coral forest, the higher ups didn't want anyone going in or over the forest, and Noah didn't want to go threw it either. He had to admit though that it was beautiful, large deep blue trees with a rainbow algae spiraling up the trees and over the branches. He kept walking, a few sharks and other aquatic species that he he didn't recognize tried to bite at him. The suit was a perfect defense against what seemed to be everything in the ocean as nothing could penetrate it. Soon Noah was getting tired, he tried to think of a place to sleep, the algae on the trees was soft and he could pull some sand over him to keep the currents from blowing him away. He walked a little bit further along the edge of the forest while trying to find an overly fluffy tree to sleep on. He's been seeing a commotion every so often in the distance, but he wasn't expecting to have something long and blue to come flying out of the forest and under his arm with a shark following suit.

The shark bit at Noah's arm, the small blue fish pressing itself tighter against his Noah's side. Noah tried to fight off the shark, eventually pushing it away and punching it in the nose. The shark swam off into the black of the ocean, the small blue creature still trembling under his arm. He reached under his arm to shoo away whatever was there, the small creature darted under his other arm. He finally got a look at the size, it had to be at least half his arm span. He raised both of his arms and the small creature darted around his body, eventually curling itself around his neck. For a second Noah thought he was going insane, were those tiny hands on the back of his neck? He tried gently shooing the thing away from his neck, it wasn't pressing down hard enough to choke him but it wasn't something he was too comfortable with having. Eventually it got the memo and started unfurling itself from his neck and gently swam up to his face. It couldn't be, a tiny peron was floating in front of him. Light blue almost glowing hair and a slightly blue tinted body, it looked like it had scales at its waist. He followed it down and saw what looked like an eel tail, slowly retreating from Noah's neck.

The little person approached his face plate and pressed his hands on it, Noah only gave a confused look in response. He had to be dreaming, this couldn't be real, could it? The eel slowly backed away from him and full force rammed the face plate with its shoulder. Noah slightly jumped at what it was doing and gently grabbed the eel. It slightly wriggled in his grasp as before Noah tried to speak to it "what do you think your doing, your going to break your arm" the small eel looked up at him dumbfounded. After a bit of silence the eel finally responded with a few clicks and chirps while rubbing its arm. Noah was confused to say the least, he let the tiny go and held out his palm for it to sit in, instead it wrapped itself around his wrist and squished its hands into the orange fabric next to the gloves. Noah lightly chuckled to himself "all right, you can sleep there for the night" he walked over to the nearest tree and laid down on it. He silently scooped some sand onto himself with his free hand, the tiny looked up at him confused. Noah gently ran a finger down the tinyes back "your freezing" he whispered as he held the tiny eel person to stomach. After a bit the Noah started to drift off, the eel was not having that, it got up and started pulling on Noah's finger.

Noah opened his eyes back up to see the tiny struggling with all it's might to bring Noah somewhere. Noah reluctantly got up and followed the tiny, the glowing hair keeping it in sight at all times. It darted around the darkness of the ocean and back to Noah to make sure he was following. Noah kept at a steady pace to keep up with the tiny. He almost wanted to lay on the ground and sleep there. Eventually they reached a cliff face, the tiny followed along the edge of the wall. Noah looked back, the forest wasn't very far away and he never knew this cliff face was here. The small eel zig zaged across the bottem of the cliff face, Noah kept up with the tiny, confused and tired the entire time. Soon the glowing hair disappeared under the ground, Noah freaked out and ran over to where the tiny disappeared and bent down ready to start digging at the ground. He reached his hands down too fast and his whole body fallowed into a hole. It didn't take him long for his back to hit the side of a slope and for him to see a bit of orange light illuminating a tunnel in front of him. The tiny eel swam up to him and pressed itself against his faceplate, Noah immediately grabbed the tiny by its waist. It pushed against his fingers and chirped at him angrily but he wasn't going to let it go, not if it was going to scare him like that again. He shuffled forward threw the tunnel, he had to hunch his back to get threw it.

Soon the tunnel opened up into a cave, it went down a bit but it was almost a perfect sphere. There were small metal bolts and bottle caps on the walls and other miscellaneous items strewn about. He finally let the tiny go and it shoved itself threw a long PVC pipe with an angel connector at the top. A bit of its tail was hanging out the bottom as it rested its head on its arms. There was a slight suction near his foot and a light feeling of flowing water over his back. Noah looked up to see the source of the light, there was a hole with an edge to the water above him. He stood up and looked around for a bit, the cave extended out even further, it was huge. He lifted his arms out of the water and pulled himself up out of the hole with more ease than he should have been able to. The top of the ceiling had a glowing orange moss and neer the hole he came out of was a small water fall that had some warm water flowing into the small underwater cave. The walls had a green moss that was fluffy to the touch and the ground was smoothed over and barely damp. A small splash and some angry chirping grabbed his attention. The tiny was trying to reach for his heel and chirping the entire time. Noah reached his hand into the water, slightly swishing his fingers next to the tiny. The tiny immediately coiled itself around his wrist and rested it's back on his palm.

Noah scooted over over to one of the walls, he saw the tiny breathing, its chest was moving quickly as it just stared up at him. Noah took his mask off and took in a deep breath, before pulling the small hood off his head. It almost smelled like mint in the cave, what was this stuff. The tiny on his hand started chirping instantly, Noah looked down as it made grabby hands at his face. Noah brought the tiny closer to his face and it immediately pressed its hands into his cheeks. It ran it's hands over his lips before trying to part them. Noah took the tiny away from his mouth once it put a hand on his teeth, it looked confused before it started chirping again. It looked sad that it wasn't able to look into Noah's mouth. He moved it back into the water, it tried climbing back up his arm before slipping. Noah immediately reached under the tiny to catch it. The tiny layed down for a few seconds before scrambling over and hugging Noah's thumb. Noah brought it higher into the air, the tinyes tail was dangling from between his pointer and middle finger. It looked down at the ground a little frightened before looking back up to Noah with the same waiting look.

Noah slowly dipped the eel part back into the water, the tiny quickly wrapped itself around his fingers in response. Noah held it back in the air, he was staring to get tired of its antics. He staired at the tiny in his hands with a disappointed look on his face, as he got a better look at the small person he realized it looked younger than he'd orginally thought, almost like a young teenager. Looking closer at its facial structure he could almost be certain it was male. As he looked over it, he saw it's small eyes were almost as blue as its hair and he realized it was crying. Why would it be crying, he hadn't hurt it had he? Noah looked it over, there were no bruises or scratches he could see so why was it crying. It started making the grabby hands back at Noah's face, he reluctantly brought it closer to his eyes. It started him in the eyes for a few seconds before it scooted closer to the edge of his hand. It tried reaching for his lips again, Noah thought about it. It really wanted to be eaten, the doctor said that it takes longer to digest food so maybe it would be safe. Noah's eyes were getting heavy, he needed to sleep. As he thought harder on it he realized it was either this or probably more angry chirping for the rest of the night. He saw the tears on the tiny practically disappear when he brought it closer to his mouth.

He thought he could hear a choked sob when he opened his mouth, the tiny practically jumped for it. He extended his tounge over his teath so it wouldn't get hurt. Tiny hands tried to grip the edges of his toung and pull it forward. Noah thought it almost tasted like berries, sure there was the salt of the ocean but he didn't expect to taste berries. The tiny tried to force itself down his throat, Noah almost gagged at the feeling and slightly dragged the tiny back over his tounge. The tiny started to tremble in his hands and on his tongue, the salty flavor was getting more prevalent. The tiny wrapped its arms around his tounge, quite chirping came from it. He could tell it was starting to cry again, this is what it really wanted wasn't it. He pressed the tiny up against the roof of his mouth and slightly tasted it, he hadn't had anything sweet in a month and this was probably going to be the best he would get for a while. The tiny dragged itself forward a bit more. Noah could feel the movement in his hands as the eel tail moved, he wasn't too excited about that part. The tiny moved closer to the back of this throat, Noah wanted to get that last bit of the sweet flavor before he gulped it down. The tiny was too far back in Noah's throat now, he instinctively swallowed when it pressed a hand into the back of his neck.

The berry taste was gone, it was just the salty sea water, luckily it didn't taste like fish. He lightly pressed a finger to his neck, the small wriggling bump slowly glided down his neck and past his collarbone. He gulped again and again before lifting the edge of the tail to his eye level. The torso entered his stomach and it almost immediately started rubbing at his stomach walls. It felt nicer than he thought it would, was his stomach always this sensitive? More of the eel part slipped into his stomach and the tip of the tail entered his mouth. He gently scooped it up with his tongue before closing his mouth. He swallowed one last time and tilted his head back to let gravity do the rest of his work. He rested his head back into the moss and his hands protectively over his gut. He could still fell the cold of the tail slowly moving along the rest of his throat. His stomach was comfortably cold and he gently rubbed his hands over it. He looked down and- jeez his stomach was huge. Noah didn't know his stomach could fit this much of anything. It started to move as rubbed a little harder, the small coils pressing every nerve in his stomach as it slid around. Noah made a small groan, it didn't feel bad but he just wasn't ready for this much of stimulation. He could feel the tinyes form gently press itself into his hand and rub back. He could hear a few gentle clicks as he rested his head back into the moss and closed his eyes. The amount off stimulation in his stomach along with the feeling of being over full quickly drifted him back to drowsiness. One final thought left his mind as he fell asleep 'mabye it wouldn't be so bad to stay more than a year'.

#safe vore #soft vore #protective vore #extreme cuddling #willing vore #willing prey #semi willing pred #mer vore #mer prey #tw blood #tw panic attack #tw alcohol

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