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rickmandowneyjr · 3 years

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Cuts to Cope

Angst, fluff Pairing: Severus Snape and Student!Reader (platonic) Warning: talk of self-harm, mentions of character's death Word Count: 2348 A/N: This is a little piece I wrote a while ago but didn't know if I should post or not. After re-doing certain bits, I decided to upload it. Hope it's not too difficult to read. As always, the ending is a little abrupt and not too detailed, leaving it sort of up to y'all as well :) Sorry if there are any typos (I only ever get the time to write when it's quite late nowadays)

Yet another day at Hogwarts - waking up at 6:30 am, showering, getting dressed in your robes, and heading to breakfast. Wishing everyone you passed a good morning, wearing your signature smile as you did.

You were a 7th year, one of the few returning ones after last year's incident with Cedric Diggory. He'd been your best friend, or at least that's what people thought. Cedric Diggory and you had been dating for the last 7 months before his death. You didn't want anyone knowing because being star students meant eyes prying into every aspect of your relationship.

People praised you, a model student and now, prefect, who set an example. An example of how to be strong and cope no matter what life threw at you. Little did they know, you harboured a little secret. A dark, horrifying, and disturbing secret that would never let anyone look at you the same way if they ever found out.

Your first class for the day was Potions. You were a brilliant student, especially at Potions, yet Snape still had something against you. You didn't take it personally, though; he wasn't really fond of anyone. You walked into class, taking your regular seat at the front. Snape walked into class a little while later, slamming the door behind him, commanding everyone's attention.

"Turn to page 420," he drawled. You opened the book to find the recipe for Amortentia. Your heart felt a tug at the name of the love potion, never having been able to find out the answers with Cedric.

Snape's deep voice brought your focus back to class as he said, "Since it takes a week to brew, I've already completed most of the process. All you need to do is the last day's work," making the class sigh with relief. "However," he continued, "The last day of brewing is crucial and not easy. So, I expect your attention to be fully on the task at hand."

You began brewing the potion, following the steps perfectly. Snape sat down to grade papers as the class worked. He looked at you and said, "Ms. [L/N], roll up your sleeves while you work. I'd hate for there to be mishaps in my class because of one student's carelessness."

You hesitated, but then did as asked. You weren't the best at wandless magic but had made sure to perfect this spell solely for such instances. As you rolled your sleeves, you subtly waved your hand over your forearms, mumbling, "Illusiont," and casting the disillusionment charm.

You saw Snape narrow his eyes at you and panicked for a second before you saw him shake his head and return to grading. Breathing a sigh of relief, you returned to the task at hand and continued brewing.

After a while, you'd finished, and were the first one to have done so. Snape walked over to your desk and took a whiff of the potion, raising an eyebrow before giving you a single nod of approval, letting you know that it was perfect. Once everyone was done, he walked around, starting at the back, and asked everyone to announce what they smelled. You hadn't smelled your Amortentia yet and hadn't planned on doing so either, feeling quite relieved when Snape hadn't asked that question earlier.

Your heart rate quickened as you began to worry about how your body and mind would react to smelling it. You couldn't do it last year, since the Triwizard tournament had led to a bunch of classes being cancelled. As you thought about how excited you had been at the prospect of sharing the experience with Cedric, Snape's voice pulled you back to your potions class.

"Ms. [L/N]."

"Yes, sir?"

He rolled his eyes in annoyance. "What. Do. You. Smell," he spoke, irritation evident in every word.

You swallowed hard as you leaned forward to inhale the scent. Your pupils dilated, your heartbeat quickened and your knees threatened to give out at the all-too-familiar fragrance. Your throat went dry as you stopped the tears from forming.

"Well? We haven't got all day, class is to be dismissed soon." He raised an eyebrow at you, asking you to hurry up since you were the last one.

With every ounce of energy, you calmed yourself and stopped your voice from wavering. "Old books, butterscotch and... vanilla," you sighed. Your breathing was erratic and you knew you needed to get out of class and get to the abandoned girls' washroom.

As if on cue, the bell rang, dismissing the class. Snape gave you an odd look and was about to ask you what was wrong but you had already gathered your belongings and were marching out the door. He decided to follow you since he'd never seen you act like that before and was wondering what had happened to you all of a sudden.

You made your way up the stairs, hurrying before you had a breakdown in the middle of the hallway. As you reached the washroom, you started rummaging through your bag since the hallway was empty. You took the small blade that you carried around out, pushing the door to the bathroom open.

Snape's POV

I followed her out of the classroom. Though not my favourite, [Y/N] was an incredible witch and this wasn't normal behaviour for her. She'd marched out before I had even dismissed class which concerned me even more, given her usually 'perfect' behaviour. She paced through the hallways and up the stairs so fast that I could've sworn she was moving around faster than I did on a normal basis. There was an urgency in her stride and I don't know why, but it concerned me.

She finally turned into the hallway leading to the girls' washroom on the third floor, which was odd. No one used this, as far as I was aware. I was a little embarrassed, considering I'd just followed a young girl to a washroom. In an isolated area, at that. I swear I never would've imagined myself going even further and following her in, but what I'd seen had shocked and concerned me enough to do just that.

End of Snape's POV

As you entered the bathroom, you had missed Snape, whose eyes were wide with shock. He couldn't believe what he'd seen. [Y/N] [L/N], the golden girl of Hogwarts, had just walked into an abandoned washroom after pulling out a blade from her bag. Not wanting to jump to any conclusions, he rushed in, wanting to confirm what his eyes had just seen.

As you were about to enter a stall, the door to the bathroom, swung open, making you jump. You hid the blade by making a fist, unintentionally cutting into your palm. You winced at the unexpected pain but didn't let it show.

You turned to face Professor Snape, and he was eyeing your hand. 'There's no way he saw it, is there?' you thought.

"Ms. [L/N], care to show me your hands?"

You panicked. He knew. You tried to divert his attention. "Sir, this is the girls' washroom."

"I'm aware," he stated. "Now... Hands," he said as he glared at you, letting you know that he wouldn't fall for any attempts to change the subject.

You sighed and opened your hands, and saw his gaze soften. He walked to you taking your hand in his as he gently pulled the razor out. You winced as it came out, knowing this would impair you for the rest of your classes.

"What were you thinking?!" He scolded, startling you. He reached for your arm, rolling up your sleeves once again and muttered, "Finite."

The scars on your arms started showing up and you couldn't do anything but look away, your eyes resting anywhere but his gaze.

"So that was the Disillusionment Charm I heard you use, earlier."

You stayed silent, still refusing to meet his eyes. Of all the professors, it had to be him. Sure, he wasn't fond of you, but you had immense respect for the man, and to let him see you in this light... it took every bit of you to not lose your composure.

"Look at me," he said.

You turned to face him. His usually cold eyes showed too much concern and the uncharacteristic response from the potions master was proving to be a lot to handle. Tears stung your eyes as he stared at you.

"Why?" He asked, his voice so genuine that you couldn't help but let your emotions spill, creating a mess that you couldn't be bothered to care about anymore.

"I can't do this anymore," you sniffled. "I don't want to. He was everything to me and it just hurts so much."

"Who?"

"Cedric."

"Ah, yes. I'm aware you and Mr. Diggory were best friends. I'm sorry, [Y/N]."

"No," you said, finally being able to talk to someone about it. "He was my boyfriend. And... I never got to tell him I loved him... because I wasn't sure. Today just made it worse when I smelled him in my Amortentia. It confirmed that I did and I never got to say it." You were sobbing now, not caring what you looked like, what a mess you probably were, or what Snape was thinking of you and your confession.

You felt him awkwardly wrap his arms around you as he pulled your head to his chest. Your cries got louder and your wails of agony echoed in the empty washroom as your hands clutched the fabric of his robes. The feeling of someone comforting you was overwhelming. You'd always had to keep up this image of a perfect student, reliable friend, someone who could never have such horrifying tendencies.

Even then, as you cried out loud, your instinct made you bury your face in his chest, muffling the 'ugly' sobs. Snape's heart broke as your thoughts flooded his mind. As you struggled to breathe, he turned your head slightly, making you audible again. He didn't hush you; just stroked your hair as your tears soaked his robes.

It took a while, but you finally calmed down, your sobs reducing to soft whimpers before they died out entirely. Your throat was sore, and lips, chapped from all the crying. Your eyes were red and puffy, and the reality of the situation finally came crashing down on you.

Your secret was out. More than one, at that. One of the professors knew, and the strictest one too. You had just spent Merlin knows how long crying into his chest, which was now soaked with your tears.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, your voice, hoarse. "Your robes are all wet now," you said, trying to move away.

"That's the least of my worries right now," he said, keeping your head in place as he continued, "I understand what you're going through. Better than you'd know." It sounded like it was painful for him to talk about it, the tone of his voice giving the vulnerability away. "But this is not the way to deal with it," he said as rubbed your back.

"Does it go away?"

"I'll be honest," he sighed. "It does get lesser with time if you allow yourself to heal. However, it never goes away entirely. A part of you will always love and miss him. I'm sorry," he said.

"No, I'm glad. I don't want to forget him. Or my love for him. Cedric Diggory was and will always be - my first love."

You finally pulled away from his chest and looked him in the eyes as he gave you a gentle smile. You managed to muster a somber one and sighed.

"Do any of your friends know?"

"Merlin, no!"

"Why not? They're your friends. They could-"

"I can't have this getting out. Everyone will-"

"Who cares what people think?" He raised his voice. It was silent for a while before he sighed and spoke again.

"[Y/N], I want you to promise me something."

You knew what was coming. You gulped and nodded softly.

"I want you to promise me that you'll stop this. Cedric wouldn't want this for you."

"I know, and I've tried before. It's not that simple-"

"I know," he said, cutting you off. "Which is why, the next time you get the urge to do this, you'll come to me. No matter what the situation might be."

You were surprised at his words. It was incredibly nice of him to offer this to you, and you nodded, accepting his generosity.

"Also," he continued, "Please stop going to such great lengths to please others and worrying about what others think. It's not healthy."

"But-"

"But nothing. Your health is suffering and you can't even bring yourself to tell anyone because you're so busy keeping up this little charade of 'everything is fine'."

You stayed silent. There was truth in his words and you couldn't refute his accusations. You just looked up at him, once again, finding the uncharacteristic concerned look meeting your gaze. Nodding softly, you agreed. How could you not when someone had shown you such consideration and compassion?

A small smile graced his usually stoic face as he helped you up, and you both made your way out of the bathroom. He escorted you back to your dormitories, ensuring you were alright before the two of you parted ways.

The rest of the school year passed and Snape stayed true to his word, and you to yours. Every time you felt the urge to hurt yourself to relieve the pain, you'd find Snape. He was patient and helped you every step of the way. Slowly, but surely, you were able to overcome your urges and also found yourself living for yourself, rather than up to others' expectations.

By the time you graduated, you had overcome the habit and thanked Snape in your graduation speech, never giving away the details as to why. A lot of people had assumed there was something between the two of you, especially since you went to meet him all through the school year, but you didn't let it bother you, because... Who cares what people think, right?

P.S. - Sorry I've been a little slow with the writing. My college assignments have started rolling in and I'm currently swamped. Also, I'm working on a little something (announcing it in 2-3 days so make sure to check in lol). Rest assured, I'm slowly and steadily making my way through requests. Thank you for understanding <3

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slashbitch2 · 3 years

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Prove Me Wrong, Darling

who doesn't love a bit of enemies to lovers? :)

You and Agatha had never gotten along. From your perspective, it was due to a conflict of interest. Whereas if you asked her, she'd likely say it was a conflict of intelligence, or something else insulting along those lines. Though the issue you had with the fellow witch wasn't her attitude, rather her underestimation of your powers. It'd started with her massacre of the Coven, when she'd attempted to end your life alongside the others. But to her surprise, you'd been strong enough to defend yourself and escape. Since then, there'd been several instances where your paths had crossed, and you hadn't let her live down the failure yet.

This particular occasion was different, however, as Agatha had asked you for help.

It'd taken everything in you not to immediately mock her. But you knew that she'd leave without further explanation if she felt ridiculed, and you were just dying to know what had made her stoop to your level. So, you'd swallowed your pride and attentively listened to her proposal. It'd mostly featured the repeated phrases "immense power" and "huge source of energy," and even a confession that she was baffled by the cause, which only intrigued you further.

Although you weren't too interested in accumulating anymore power, the opportunity to be on level ground with Agatha was too good to pass on. You confessed this to her upon accepting the invitation, which resulted in an unimpressed eye roll. Regardless of her annoyance, you left that same day, arriving in the least expected location. A quaint town in New Jersey.

"Well," You landed behind Agatha in the middle of a road, surveying the picturesque, colourless neighbourhood. "isn't this lovely."

She pursed her lips, looking round similarly perplexed. "Lovely?" She echoed. "This is like every outdated suburban stereotype rolled into one. Like some kind of picture-perfect movie set."

Her condescending comment jogged a memory. "That's what I was thinking of!" You exclaimed, clapping your hands enthusiastically. "Did you ever watch that sitcom- from the 50s? The Dick Van Dyke Show?"

"From the title alone I'm glad I didn't."

"Seriously, it's practically the same setting." You moved to stand directly in front, forcing her to look at you.

"So, what you're saying is someone used this insane amount of power just to recreate their favourite TV show?" She quirked an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your theory.

"Well, wouldn't you?"

"No."

"Anyway." You glanced down at the rather eye-catching ensemble Agatha was currently wearing, then at your comparably casual yet modern clothes. "This isn't going to work." With a wave of your hand, the jeans and jumper combo was replaced by a more period accurate pencil skirt and blouse. Satisfied, you looked up at her expectantly.

Taking it as a challenge, she copied the gesture, managing to both create a new dress and fix up her hair. She smirked, enjoying the chance to show off her superior abilities.

"It's not a competition." You huffed.

She placed a hand on your arm fake comfortingly. "Of course not, dear."

The contact caused you to shiver slightly. It felt as though her touch ignited sparks, though the sensation wasn't exactly unpleasant. Quite the opposite, in fact. But indulging in it didn't feel right either, so you were grateful when Agatha removed her hand.

Her face dropped, eyebrows furrowing. Slowly, she swivelled round to point at a house. "There. Can you feel it?"

Following her outstretched finger, you tuned into the energy, focusing specifically on the house. "Mhm." Unsurprisingly, Agatha was right. An unfamiliar energy was being emitted from whoever was inside. You tried to pinpoint what kind of magic the user possessed, but found no trace of any familiar type. "Shall we go meet the neighbours, then?"

"You read my mind." She muttered, narrowing her eyes and offering an arm without so much as sparing a glance in your direction.

You hesitated, taken aback by the kind gesture. It hadn't dawned on you until then that an incredibly powerful being was residing little over 10 metres away, and that you were both about to willingly walk into their house. Looping your arm with hers created a naïve sense of safety.

Neither spoke as you approached the house with faux confidence, only pausing for Agatha to summon a potted plant. A house warming gift, you guessed. The simple gesture of goodwill brought a smile to your face.

"I didn't expect you to be such a considerate neighbour." You whispered.

"Gotta make a good first impression." She reached out to knock against the door.

---

You sighed. Barely an hour spent in this black and white world and you were already bored. Everything was so tiresomely perfect, so normal that you questioned how you'd ever suffered through those terrible old sitcoms in the first place. Sitting in Wanda's living room, the only entertainment was your partner in crime Agatha, or Agnes, as you ought to say.

She was currently flipping through a magazine, tracing the page with her index finger and reading aloud to help Wanda prepare for her anniversary.

"Any notable date you can remember? Special occasion?" She asked the redhead. "You know, to remind him of good times." She winked suggestively, briefly glancing at you with an expression that only you could decipher. She was enjoying flustering Wanda a little too much.

"Oh...I don't know." She trailed off, untrustworthy eyes darting around the room. "Do you two have any memorable date? Maybe I could steal some ideas."

Had the sitcom spell effected you, this would've been the ironic moment in which you spat out whatever drink was currently in your mouth. Fortunately though, you'd declined the offer of tea earlier, and opened your mouth to correct her.

Agatha beat you to it by nudging you with her elbow. "Oh don't we just?" She laughed deeply until you joined in with a forced chuckle.

Deciding to join in with her game, you hummed thoughtfully. "What about that picnic we had? In Salem, remember?" Judging by the way her eyes flashed dangerously, she knew you were referring to that dreadful night with the Coven, serving as revenge for the sudden change in relationship status. "Agnes decided the best time to go on a date would be at night- and in the middle of forest of all places!"

Agnes threw back her head in exaggerated laughter. "Oh hush! I thought it'd be romantic. Besides, you're the one who got us completely lost, dear." She continued, further adding depth to the altered anecdote. "And I'd say it went pretty well regardless." She turned to whisper conspiratorially to Wanda. "So I'll spare you the dirty details."

The three of you fell into easy laughter, only interrupted by the shrill ring of the telephone. "If you'll excuse me." Wanda stood up to answer. "That's probably Vis."

You took the distraction as respite from forcing such an overly hospitable smile, finding that your cheeks were already aching. For the last few minutes, you'd been aware of a pair of eyes watching you closely, and finally turned to face the witch sitting next to you.

"What?"

Agatha said nothing, her invasive eyes never leaving yours as she took a sip of her drink. You could practically see the gears turning in her head as she thought something through, and dreaded to wonder what she was about to say.

Reaching some form of a conclusion, she leant forward to place her drink down on the table. "Kiss me." She murmured through clenched teeth, momentarily glancing at Wanda, who's back was turned.

"Excuse me?" Out of all the possible things she could've said, this request seemed the least plausible in your mind.

"When Wanda turns round she should see us-" Agatha gestured her hand back and forth as if vocalising what she was implying was too sinful to put into words. Her vagueness was met by your blank stare. "Y'know?"

"No?" You shook your head, unable to comprehend why she'd ask such a thing, untrusting your interpretation of her suggestion.

"Just-" Agatha raised her hands to grasp your face. Hesitated. Then threw them back down into her lap and sighed in frustration. The fact she was struggling to initiate contact was laughable, though eventually you took pity on her.

Leaning forward, you kept your eyes open to watch for Agatha's reaction. You found it amusing that upon realising what you were trying to do, her eyes shut impossibly fast. Satisfied that she was consenting, you raised one hand to cup her cheek and continued to chase after her lips. The kiss was chaste and affectionately mundane, exactly at it should be.

In response, she grabbed your knees and pulled you closer, nipping at your bottom lip. Clearly Agatha wasn't on the same wavelength as you. Her hands shifted further up to your thighs, bringing a startling heat to the kiss. You gasped, virtually melting at her touch. You wanted this. One hand slid to rest on her shoulder. But it wasn't the time or place. You gently pushed against her.

Agatha pulled away, breathless. She scanned your face with pupils blown wide and mouth slightly agape like she'd just reached some new revelation. You were certain your expression mirrored hers.

Wanda cleared her throat somewhere in the distance.

"Gosh, Wanda I'm sorry." Agnes' cheerful voice reappeared as she addressed the redhead without breaking your intense shared eye contact. "But I think we ought to be heading home now." She said unabashedly. Like you hadn't just been caught making out on the neighbour's couch.

"Of course." You could hear the understanding smile in her voice, the slight awkwardness from intruding. "It's been lovely meeting you both."

Summoning an ounce of brainpower, you turned to Wanda. "And you. Feel free to keep the magazine." Then tugged Agatha up and began dragging her toward the front door. For once in her life she went willingly, allowing herself to be pulled along, calling out a last minute farewell to Wanda.

Upon reaching the end of the garden, Agatha wordlessly took the lead. Staying true to her fabricated story, she set a determined course for the house to the right, waltzing up as if she owned the place. A quick flourish of your fingers and the lock was rendered useless. Now the house was yours.

As soon as the door shut behind you, she turned on her heel and pushed you against it. Her mouth quickly sought out yours with a desperation only appropriate in private. Had you known Agatha was this good of a kisser, you would've done this ages ago, but elected not to vocalise the praise knowing she'd never let you live it down. You felt her smirk against your lips, and briefly wondered if she'd somehow infiltrated your mind. You wouldn't put it past her.

As she began trailing kisses down your neck, any concern about the invasion of privacy became inconsequential. You sighed. She rewarded the sound with a nip at your throat. Due to the haze of lust clouding your better judgment, you didn't register the sound of footsteps until it was too late.

"Woah!" A man called from the top of the staircase, presumably the current previous resident of the house. Agatha froze, her lips still pressed up to your neck.

"If you two beautiful ladies hadn't already broken into my house, I would've happily invited you in." The man grinned obnoxiously, slowly continuing down the stairs.

Agatha disinterestedly waved her hand, incapacitating him. The sound of the stranger tumbling down the stairs caused her to let out a short, cruel cackle, before returning to bury her face in the crook of your neck.

"Not big on roommates?" You joked, sliding a hand up and down her back soothingly.

She nipped at your flesh, a little harder this time. "Trust me, he doesn't want to be here for what I'm about to do to you."

Already impatient, you decided to tease her in hopes it would speed things up. "You're all talk and no action, Harkness."

She all but growled as she returned to your lips. Without warning her hands squeezed your hips. "I don't think you're in the position to be insulting me, love."

"Then prove me wrong, darling."

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness #agnes x reader

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s0ftness · 3 years

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lost and found | i

Summary: In dire need of a safe place, you stumble upon a kind stranger in the middle of the woods.

Pairing: Lumberjack!Thor x Reader, Lumberjack!Thor x Hispanic!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY. Mild mentions of physical injury, oral sex, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, fluffy shit.

Word Count: 5.8k+

A/N: So, this is my first time posting my work and I’m a little nervous, so any sort of feedback is greatly appreciated. Inspiration for this came directly from @imanuglywombat‘s and @nellblazer‘s Celebration of Lumberjack Smut Challenge. There’s a whole lot I’d like to explore with this pair, so there might be more parts in the future. Please let me know what you think!

Also, find this on AO3!

The sun was slowly making its way down the sky, eager to find rest behind the mountains, tinting the firmament indigo as stars began to blink awake. The temperature was also going down but sweat coated your skin and made your clothes stick to your body as you hiked up the mountain. Unsure of where you were even heading to, you ventured deeper into the woods in search for a safe place to spend the night. Unable to recall when your last meal was, your vision began to blur and you lost your footing for a second, slipping on a loose rock and ripping open your pants, the skin of your knee and palms scraped. Great, just what you needed. You wiped at the torn skin with the back of your sleeve, but there truly wasn’t much you could do. Darkness was creeping in closer, faster than you thought it would, and the sight of heavy clouds rolling in made your empty stomach clench with dread.

The sound was faint at first. And you stood in silence then, every muscle frozen. You hadn’t crossed paths with a bear yet or anything of the sort, but you knew there were countless dangers lurking in the shadows, and were well aware of your vulnerable state. Not tripping over your own two feet and splitting your head open so far had been a feat of its own, but an ever-present possibility nonetheless. Holding your breath for as long as you could, you trekked forward as silently as possible, slowly beginning to discern the rhythmic pattern of the sound. Not an animal, then.

Not far from where you were, the trees gave way to a clearing and you realized you were now on somebody’s private property. And that somebody was chopping wood.

You shuddered at the thought of a crazy man chasing you away with an axe, but you didn’t have many options here, not to mention you were running out of time. After drawing in one deep, fortifying breath, you cautiously made your way over. The rustling of leaves and crunching branches beneath your feet gave you away, apparently, because the figure suddenly stood still. Your fingers grazed over the rough bark of the tree in front of you, and you peeked around it.

Just a few feet away from you, stood a tall man. Huge, really. Your eyesight wasn’t your most reliable sense right then, but he looked strong. And alone. Truly, you weren’t sure either of those things were good or bad, but your body was too weak to hold you up any longer and you feared you might pass out right there on the treeline.

Holding up both hands in what you hoped was an appeasing gesture, you moved forward as slowly as you could. He remained rooted to the ground, right next to the stump he used as a chopping block, his hand wrapped loosely around his axe by the handle.

“No trouble…” you croaked out in a heavily-accented voice, as you took a trembling step forward. “Not looking for trouble,” you attempted to clarify.

That seemed to amuse him, as he snorted a bit. You didn’t look like you could cause much trouble, even if you wanted to. You looked like you’d been through hell and had barely made it out. If you felt like shit, the way his face contorted into a deep frown when you stepped into the light made it clear you looked even worse. With a soft thump, he lodged the axe on the stump and made his way over to you. You cringed instantly, stumbling back a few steps when he got too close.

“You alone?” His voice was deep and rich, but he quickly glanced around to check along the treeline for good measure. You nodded, but the motion sent your head spinning and you stumbled a bit.

“I just need somewhere to be tonight. I think a storm is coming,” you murmured, the lilt of your voice barely audible at such volume. A couple of warm hands reached forward to grab you by the upper arms, steadying you. He half expected you to bolt, but you surprised him by slumping in his grip. With a low sigh, he led one of your arms to wrap around his shoulders as he held up most of your weight while walking you up the front steps of his cabin.

Once inside, he placed you on a loveseat by the fireplace. There was no fire burning, but you felt much warmer indoors. He grabbed the blanket draped over the back of the seat and laid it over you. You frowned in confusion by his kindness, but decided it was probably in your best interest to keep your mouth shut for a while. As he stood this close, tucking the fabric around your shoulders and feet until you felt like a blanket burrito, you finally got a chance to look at him. Like, really look at him.

Boy, was he beautiful.

He looked like he’d had a long day, too. His eyes were tired, but kind, and impossibly blue. His long blond hair was messy but tied at the back of his neck in a low ponytail. You faintly wondered if he’d been sculpted by gods, because that bone structure was to die for. If you had had even one ounce of energy left in your body, you probably would’ve used it to touch his cheek to make sure he was real. His beard was thick and suited him well, and you wondered if it felt as soft as it looked. His lips were full and plump, and they were… moving?

Oh. He was speaking to you.

“... in a while. I can heat up some soup for you, if you want.”

You blinked a couple times as you forced your eyesight to focus. The man let out a quiet sigh and gave your shoulder a gentle pat.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

So you did. All bundled up and warm, you battled yourself to maintain your eyes open as he headed to the kitchen. For soup, you reminded yourself. For you. That was the moment your stomach decided to growl embarrassingly loudly, and you sunk deeper into the soft, worn leather of the sofa.

A gentle shake on your shoulder awakened you, and you jolted a bit in surprise.

“Hey, it’s okay! It’s okay, you dozed off for a bit. Why don’t you eat this? It’ll make you feel better.” He then placed a large bowl of hot soup on your lap and you wrapped both hands around it. Your eyes were impossibly round and doe like, and your host had to force himself to look away.

“Thank you, er… uh…”

“Thor,” he offered as he lowered himself to sit on the edge of the coffee table across from you. “My name’s Thor.”

“Thor,” you repeated softly, savouring the foreign word in your tongue. He swallowed hard. You offered your own name in return. “Thank you, Thor.”

He hummed in response and rose to his feet to kneel in front of the fireplace to set up some wood in it and get it going. The flames took on quickly and you let out a quiet sigh of relief. Thor glanced at you over his shoulder, and found you raising the bowl to your lips to gulp down the broth eagerly. A smile tugged on the corner of his mouth, but he quickly rose to his feet and walked away.

It wasn’t often that Thor had visitors. He had never had any, to be honest. Ever since he’d come back to Earth after wandering the universe senselessly, he’d been on his own. Up there, he longed for home. But home no longer existed, not to him anyway. Everybody he had ever considered to be home was gone now, so he’d decided to build one for himself out here. It got lonely sometimes, but it was peaceful, and that was much more than he thought himself worthy of.

Inside his bedroom, he rummaged through his things to find a few pieces of clothing you could wear and set them on the foot of his bed. Next, he went into the bathroom and drew you a bath with the hottest water he could offer, and threw in some bubbles for good measure. He’d always loved a good bubble bath, and you looked like you could keep a secret.

With everything set up for you to clean up, he made his way back to the living room to find you laying on your side on the floor in front of the fire. You were curled up in a little cocoon under the blanket he’d given you, and you were lazily watching the flames dance over burning wood, your eyelids getting heavier by the second. Thor bit the inside of his cheek and went to kneel next to you, one broad hand coming to rest on your shoulder.

“I prepared a bath for you. There are also some clothes on the bed you can wear. Just leave your dirty ones in the bathroom and I’ll take care of it, yeah?”

You rolled onto your back and gazed up at him, brows knit together in confusion. “You really don’t have to do all this. I can just stay here and leave when the sun comes up.”

“Nonsense,” he replied with a shake of his head. He rose to his feet and held out a hand for you to take, hauling you up onto your feet and grimacing apologetically when you winced in pain. Your hand felt minuscule engulfed by his, but you relished the warmth as he led you through his home and to the bathroom. Against the far wall, was a beautiful wood bathtub and you gave in to the impulse to brush your fingertips along its smooth side before dipping them in the hot water. A wide smile spread on your face. It had been longer than you’d like to admit since you’d had a proper bath, even longer one with warm water. You turned to face your host to thank him, but the sheer emotion in your glazed-over eyes nearly knocked him off his feet.

Thor cleared his throat and walked over to hand you a washcloth and a bar of soap, but your free hand came up to trap both his ridiculously large hands between yours.

“You… you don’t have to go,” you whispered, gaze fixed on your joint hands.

Thor flushed red in an instant. He pulled both hands back like he’d been burned by you, and rubbed his sweaty palms on the front of his worn jeans. The hurt in your expression made him want to punch himself. He opened his mouth to speak, only to clamp it shut when he was unable to come up with a proper response.

You merely gave him a half smile and took a step back, closer to the tub. Without releasing his gaze, you toed off your boots and pulled your hoodie over your head. He swallowed tightly, and his pupils dilated. His eyes were dark now, a thin ring of stormy blue where there had been sparkling sea glass before. You weren’t sure what had come over you, you weren’t usually this bold, but the whole thing seemed surreal and it had been far too long since you’d felt warm and cared for. He was a ridiculously attractive man and you knew a longing stare when you saw one. Even if it was just for a moment, you both seemed like you could use the company.

Nimble fingers pulled your pants open before pushing them down your legs and stepping out of them. Your knee was scraped and bruised, but Thor could hardly focus on that when you were slowly exposing miles and miles of soft skin. You wore nothing under your long-sleeved shirt, and a pained sound ripped through him at the sight. Your velvet skin was littered with small cuts and bruises, some around the base of your throat and what he could’ve sworn were fingerprints around your arms, causing him to frown deeply. You were covered in grime and dry blood, and he felt his hands twitch into fists at his sides. He had no idea who you were or where you’d come from, but he’d known the second he laid eyes on you that you had nowhere else to go. It was a feeling he knew all too well by now. He didn’t have much to offer, he was merely the broken shell of the man he used to be; but somebody had hurt you, and you stumbled into his life because fate willed it so. He was no King, no god, no warrior. Not anymore. But you seeked no king, no riches… you seeked solace. And he felt you deep inside his soul.

Unaware of his own movements, Thor found himself standing right in front of you, hands hovering the curve of your hip bones. Yours lead them to touch you, the tips of his fingers hooking into the soft fabric of your undergarments before pulling them down your thighs and letting them fall to the ground by your feet. Despite his form towering over you, you did not feel intimidated. You felt confident and desirable, powerful even. You called the shots here, you had him wrapped around your finger, and he looked more than ready to drop to his knees to worship you.

Thor vaguely wondered if you were real at all, or if perhaps this was some fantasy his mind had created to chase away the coldness of solitude. He lifted one hand to ghost over the side of your face, and you leaned gratefully into the touch. The rough pad of his finger grazed over the apple of your cheek, down the slope of your nose and over the shape of your plush mouth. You puckered up your lips to press a soft kiss to his thumb, the tip of your tongue peeking out after to taste the salty skin. His jaw clenched and his grip tightened, said thumb pushing past your lips and into your scorching hot mouth. You opened wide for him, eyes fluttering closed, now standing on the tips of your bare toes and leaning into him as you swayed in your spot. His free hand came to rest on the small of your back, steadying you, pressing you forward against him while he watched, entranced, the way your warm wet tongue swirled around his finger. Thor withdrew his hand enough to make your lips release him with a soft pop, and he dragged the digit across your lips, wetting them with your saliva. You licked your lips together and leaned forward, blindly chasing after his touch, only to meet his mouth with your own.

The sound you made was angelic, and he was certain he couldn’t have made you up. Not you, not this perfect, not this warm. Both your arms slid up to drape over his broad shoulders, and he bent down to kiss you deeply, slowly, unwilling to let a single inch of you untouched. Carefully, he led you to take a couple steps backwards until the back of your knees hit the edge of the tub.

“Get in,” he commanded gruffly.

You felt his voice right in your core.

Lip caught between pearly whites, you kept your gaze trained on him as you carefully stepped inside the bathtub. A soft sigh escaped you then, and you let your head fall back, soaking your hair in the warm water. Thor quickly discarded his clothes, kicking them off to the side before climbing inside behind you. You pouted for a second, sulking for missing your chance to admire him in all his nudity for he’d moved in a blur. The sentiment was shortfelt, though, when he pulled you to lean back against him, his broad torso surrounding you as he encased you in his arms. He stretched comfortably, the entire tub clearly customized to fit his large form.

One wide palm lay flat on your belly, pressing you back against him until you sat on his thighs, and you swallowed a moan when you felt him settle comfortably between your cheeks. You rolled your hips back experimentally and his breathing hitched. A wicked smile curling your lips, you peered back at him through your lashes as you repeated the motion. Thor growled softly and pinched the inside of your thigh, making you squeal and attempt to squirm away. The palm on your stomach held you still while his mouth ran from the top of your shoulder, along the curve where it met your neck, and up to nibble at the shell of your ear. He then reached over to grab the bar of soap and lathered up the washcloth to begin washing you.

He rubbed your tender skin carefully until you were clean from head to toes. He’d even delved between your legs to wash you there, but his touch was much too gentle to appease your burning need. Soft mouth sounds came from him, soothing you into relaxation as he took care of you in ways you never dared imagine. Nobody in your life had touched you with such gentleness and patience, and when he started washing your hair, carefully running his fingers through your locks to detangle them, you lost it.

Crystal tears rolled down your flushed cheeks and you squeezed your eyes shut. Thor made no comment about it, and instead just kept on humming softly while massaging your scalp. After he rinsed your hair out, you wiped away at your face before carefully turning in his arms to straddle him, this time his length coming to nestle between your lower lips, and you couldn’t help grinding down on him, gliding your core along his shaft from root to tip. This time, he made no move to stop you, both his hands coming down to grab your backside tightly.

You nearly gave in, the blunt head of his cock resting right against your entrance, merely a hair’s breadth away from slipping inside you. But you were not done with him, not yet. So you scooted back to sit on his upper thighs again and grabbed the washcloth from the edge of the tub to lather it up with soap and begin repaying him in kind for his gentle treatment.

Thor couldn’t quite remember the last time he’d been with a woman, and he felt giddy and excited like a young lad. Not that it mattered really. No other woman mattered when he had you right there, in his arms: real, tangible, his. Perhaps only for a second, but his nonetheless. He captured your mouth in a searing kiss, and it took a ridiculous amount of sheer willpower to break apart from his scrumptious mouth.

“Don’t distract me, I’m not done,” you mumbled between stolen kisses. Thor gave your ass a rough squeeze and you yelped softly.

“Do hurry up then, little one. Water’s running cold.”

After turning on the heater in his room, Thor walked out to lock up for the night. Seemingly unfazed by the cold weather, he strolled around the cabin barefoot, his nudity barely concealed by the towel perched precariously low on his hips. You followed him around like a lost puppy, wrapped up in the bathrobe he’d lent you, the length of it nearly dragging against the floor. Once he made sure all the doors and windows were locked, he approached the fireplace to put it out but you rapidly protested.

“You don’t have to do that! I- I meant what I said earlier. I can stay right here and leave first thing in the morning. You’ve already done so much for me.”

Your words put a furrow between his brows so he went to stand right in front of you. With two fingers tucked under your chin, he tilted up your head to gaze directly into your eyes. His voice was low, and you struggled not to look away, his grip on you tightening when you tried to. “Is that what you want?”

You shuffled your feet nervously and chewed on your lip, a nervous habit you hadn’t been able to quit. “You’ve been so kind to me, a total stranger, and I-'' Your mouth clamped shut when he grunted in protest, his frown deepening.

“That’s not what I asked. Tell me, is that what you’d prefer?”

Struggling to word a proper response, you merely opened and shut your mouth like a gaping fish. His gaze flickered down to your lips, but his own were set in a stern line. You shook your head no. He rose one thick eyebrow questioningly. You swallowed the lump in your throat and straightened your spine.

“No. I’d rather be with you.”

Thor hummed lowly in response, clearly pleased. Bending down slightly, he gave you a quick, chaste kiss before turning back and walking away to put out the fire. You merely stood there, waiting for him to finish while you rubbed your cold feet together and toyed with the long sleeves of the thick robe. Once he considered everything to be in order, he approached you again and took your hand in his to lead you back into his bedroom, shutting the door behind you.

“Aren’t you cold?” you asked timidly, inching closer to him to slide both arms around his tapered waist from behind. Your cold nose pressed against the space between his shoulder blades, lips ghosting over his freckled skin. He shuddered, but it wasn’t because he was cold. He was surprisingly warm, and when he slowly spun in your embrace to face you, your cheek went to rest against his broad chest, gently rubbing against the light dusting of hair there.

The air in the bedroom was thick and warm thanks to the heater, and you could feel your muscles loosen as warmth seeped into them. After shaking his head in response to your question, he brought up one of those ridiculously large hands of his to cradle the back of your head as he leaned down to brush a kiss against the crown of your head. “Come, I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

You really were, but your blood was boiling and your skin was buzzing, and sleep couldn’t be farther from your mind. You stepped back and closer to the bed, your fingertips trailing down his torso to give his towel a gentle tug. Thor merely watched you, curiosity and desire dancing in his heated gaze. Despite his body’s pleas, he didn’t budge. You huffed out a low breath and gave the fabric another tug, more insistent, and he took one step forward, the tail of the towel tucked against his skin coming loose. If you moved your hand back, it would fall to the ground, and god, you really wished he’d make this easier on you. He wanted you and you knew that. You saw it in the ferocity of his eyes, in the flaring of his nostrils, in the clench of his jaw. Hell, you could even see it through the stupid towel he made no effort to get rid of.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he watched you grow impatient, but he’d be lying if he denied you made all his blood pool in his groin, his head dizzy and oxygen-deprived. He was dying to run his hands all over your body, over your impossibly soft skin, over every dip and curve of your silhouette, he wanted to kiss and taste you, and discover every beautiful sound he could coax out of you… But what he wanted didn’t matter now. Thor was aware you were a tough one, he’d known it the second he saw you, but you could still be fragile in many ways he didn’t quite know yet. If this was going to happen, it would have to happen on your terms. Because you willed it so. Because you wanted him.

One small fist still clutched the fabric against his body while your free hand reached out to grab his and place it over the knot keeping your robe together. He instinctively gave the small bow a single yank and both sides of the robe fell open. Thor drew in a deep breath and, unable to hold himself back any longer, he slid one hand over your bare stomach and around your circumference, fingertips digging into the small of your back to tug you forward. In that instant you let go of his towel and let it fall to the floor in a heap. A loud whine escaped you at the sight, and you fell to your knees.

He was instantly reaching to hoist you up, but you were already pressing your face against his muscled thigh, nuzzling the coarse hair coating it and inhaling deeply his scent. He smelled like musk and pine trees, like freshly turned ground and a brewing storm. You whimpered and pressed your face against the soft spot between his inner thigh and his hip before licking up a broad stripe there. Thor’s knees buckled, but his hands instinctively went to run through your soft hair and massage your scalp. His erection stood proudly, thick and hard as steel. You mouthed softly at the entire length, your pink tongue peeking out to kitten lick his soft skin. The fingers in your hair tightened their grip as you leisurely made your way to the tip, pressing a kiss to it before opening your mouth wide and welcoming him in.

It was unlike you, to drop to your knees for a man. Particularly one you virtually knew nothing about. But it was like your body acted on its own around him, abandoning all sense of shame or even self-preservation, driven by something deeper, wilder inside you that had laid dormant until now. He tasted both tart and sweet, and you let go of your inhibitions as you devoured him like a woman starved. His sighs and low grunts only fueled your desire, egging you on to bob your head and swallow around mouthfuls of him.

Too long. It truly had been way too long, and Thor was clinging to whatever remnants of his sanity were left when you worked him like you knew exactly what he needed. It was difficult enough to not let go the second you took him in your mouth and coat your throat with his hot spend. Unable to hold it together any longer, Thor carefully pulled you away despite his own protests, an obscene whine escaping him at the crude sight of his cock slipping out of your mouth, slick with spit and desire. He entertained the thought of shoving himself back down your throat for a split second, but the better part of him knew he needed to be inside you right then or else he would combust.

Somehow managing to keep his touch gentle, he all but shoved you back onto the bed while peeling the offending robe off your frame. You were truly exquisite. His lips latched onto your sensitive neck to lick and nibble its tender skin until faint bruises bloomed from within, hellbent on replacing the marks on your body with ones you wouldn’t recoil from when you looked at yourself in the mirror (he hoped so, at least). Repeating the motions, Thor slowly made his way down your body, refusing to neglect a single inch, to kiss and lick and suck, staking his claim over you.

You were a writhing mess beneath him, sweaty hands reaching out to hold onto him, caressing and clutching onto his shoulders, the blunt edges of your fingertips leaving crescent-shaped dents in the vast field of tan skin. “Kiss me, please,” you pleaded breathlessly, attempting to wiggle in his grasp enough to capture his mouth in yours.

Thor obliged happily. One warm hand cupped your cheek as he kissed you deep and slow, while the other reached to grab a pillow to place under your hips, propping you up at the right angle for him to slide right inside you. At first, you feared the intrusion to be too much to handle. Your lower half grew stiff as concrete but he laid his free hand on your belly, holding you in place when the rocking motion of his hips began. Despite the fire burning violently within him, Thor’s body moved in controlled, smooth waves, easing himself deeper into you, inch by inch. The tension in your muscles slowly evaporated as pleasure came to reign, the sounds emanating from you going from shaky intakes of breath to quiet whimpers and soft moans.

His thrusts were slow and shallow at first but your body soon grew hungry for more, aching to soothe the hollow pain of places so intimate you’d forgotten about.

“Thor,” you whispered breathlessly against his moving mouth. He hummed lowly in acknowledgement though he refused to break the deep kiss you shared. “Thor… please, más,” you pleaded.

Propping himself up on one elbow, he pulled back enough to look down at your flushed face. A small crease formed on his forehead out of confusion, unable to recall the meaning of such word. Your hands currently clawing at his hip bones were more straightforward. You were tugging on him, urging his body closer between your legs, deeper inside you. With one particularly deep thrust, he bottomed out and released a deep, animalistic growl in stark contrast to the loud cry of pleasure you let out.

“Más, más! Sigue, sigue así, por favor… oh dios, no pares – Thor! T-Thor!”

Thor’s chest swelled with pride when realization dawned on him. You were so out of your mind with pleasure, your brain had regressed into your native tongue as you begged him to keep on. Your back bowed off the bed, hips propped up by the pillow as you moved your body in tandem with his, meeting him halfway in every rock of his hips. His forearm slid under the back of your knee and lifted your leg higher, your knee brushing your side while he made the most of the new angle, shoving himself deep inside you. Your cries of pleasure were obscene, loud and shameless, and Thor relished every single one. He kissed you deep and hard, swallowing your moans and muffling his own while the slapping of skin against skin and wet squelching sound of your coupling reverberated through the room.

Unable to concentrate enough to continue kissing him, you merely lost yourself in his hot, dark gaze while both your hands clutched handfuls of his long, slightly damp hair. Your jaw quivered and your eyes rolled back in your head out of sheer pleasure, and Thor was certain he’d died and gone to Valhalla. You were definitely the most sublime creature he’d ever laid eyes upon, and to see you come undone beneath him in such fashion, nearly threw him over the edge. Strong-willed as he was, he refused to find his own release until he’d satisfied you thoroughly, so the calloused pad of his thumb travelled south to catch the bundle of nerves hidden between your slick folds. Your sex was tender and puffy, your clit swollen and firm like a pearl. He drew small circles on your skin then, despite your protests and attempts to ease on the overstimulation currently making your brain short-circuit. One after the other, Thor coaxed the most delicious, toe-curling orgasms out of you until you were weeping, hot streaks of tears running down your burning cheeks. With one final deep push, he found his own release, grunting through it against your throat.

You were a sweaty, trembling mess. Utterly exhausted as you were, you struggled to keep your eyes open despite the blissed out expression on your face. Taking pity on you, Thor carefully dislodged himself from you and rolled to the side to lay beside your frame. Your body curled against his side instinctively, seeking his warmth as you snuggled into a little ball beneath his arm. Thor was unable to suppress a smile as he watched you get comfortable.

He disliked denying you of your much needed sleep, but his need to provide for you was far greater. After soundlessly slipping out of bed for a quick trip to the kitchen, he nudged you awake as he brought a glass of water to your lips.

“Drink up, little one,” he cooed lowly. You blinked heavily up at him for a moment before gratefully gulping down the cool liquid, soothing the dry aching of your now-sore throat. Downing the rest of it himself, he reached over to set the empty glass on his bedside table and fetch a piece of sliced apple to offer you.

Thick fingers pressed the small piece of fruit to your lips, and you parted them obediently. It was crisp and juicy, and your sensitive tummy rumbled gratefully. Although confused by and unaccustomed to his caregiving, you basked in it. It was a brand new yet wholly pleasant experience, to say the least.

Once you’d finished your food, Thor pulled up his thick bedding to cover both your bodies, his wrapping protectively around yours. With his bare chest pressed to your back, he nuzzled his face into your hair and bent his legs to tuck them under your bum. After scooting back to mold your body against his and leading his muscled arms to embrace you, you both quickly fell into deep slumber.

For the first time in a long time, nightmares were nowhere to be found.

The following morning, you woke up warm and relaxed. Your body ached a bit, but each pang of pain sent an electric shock right to your core. For the first time, your aches were born out of passion and pleasure. Waking up to a heavy body draped over you and ocean-blue eyes watching you intently did catch you off guard at first, panic threatening to seep deep into your bones. Thor was quick to chase away the darkness creeping on the corners of your mind (and his) when he kissed you, and proceeded to claim your body again. It was slow and lazy, and everything you never knew you needed.

After breakfast, you sat on the loveseat by the fireplace with a steaming mug cradled between your hands, curiously studying your surroundings. The sound of the front door opening broke you out of your reverie, and you peeked from the back of the seat to watch Thor toeing off his heavy boots and hanging his coat near the entrance. The second his gaze landed on you, a heartfelt smile crept on his lips. You took a tentative sip from your beverage to conceal your own, attentive eyes following his every movement as he made his way over to pour himself a cup and join you on the sofa. Large hands crept under the blanket draped over your legs to grasp your ankles and lead them to rest over his knee while he sat back against the armrest, facing you.

“So,” he spoke calmly, piercing blue eyes boring into yours. “What’s your story?”

PART II

#thor x reader #thor odison x reader #thor imagine #lumberjack!thor #lumberjack!thor x reader #fic #thor fic #smut #lamb writes

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etherrealoblivion · 4 years

Text

Candy, Canes, and Caffeine

Summary: After Spencer is shot in the leg, Y/N finds it hard to hide her feelings.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Tags: fluff!!! (light smut). Reid-with-a-cane!!! gif by @imagining-in-the-margins

A/N: fulfulling this request!

Rating: Mature(ish)

Words: 2,540

MASTERLIST

You didn’t even realize that it was Spencer on the ground when you arrived at the scene. At the sound of his squeaky voice shouting to help the shot man, your blood ran cold.

Forgetting all your FBI training, or, more accurately, throwing it out the window, you bolted onto the green lawn, collapsing by Spencer’s side and examining the wound just under his knee.

You didn’t even realize that he’d been talking until you felt his strangely cold hand on your cheek, lifting your gaze to him.

“Hey, I’m okay,” he assured you, looking far too calm for a man with a bullet in his leg. But, that was Spencer, always doing the opposite of what you expected.

Before you knew it they were wheeling him away to the hospital and you were left wondering why the hell your heart was beating so fast.

It didn’t take you long to figure out. In fact, precisely four days after Spencer’s return. It started rather simply: the team was out of town on a case and Spencer stayed behind to assist Garcia due to his injury. Which would have been fine! If not for the fact that they needed you to stay behind as well to assist the two of them.

In your opinion, it didn’t make any sense. They could have easily had someone else stay behind, but for some reason, Hotch had impressed upon you the necessity of having you there with Reid.

And Garcia! Of course.

It wasn’t like you were just there to babysit Reid. An idea that became more and more enticing as time passed.

“Hey, I’m gonna get coffee, do you want anything?”

Spencer glanced up at you from where he’d been rereading the case file, rubbing his eyes drearily. It was nearly nine p.m. and the two of you were the only ones still in the office.

“Oh, you don’t have to…. Here, I’ll come with,” he muttered, standing up and leaning on his cane to come with you.

“Spencer! You should be resting!”

“Actually, some studies have actually found that it’s better to use an injured muscle rather than slack off. For example—”

“Okay!” you laughed, hooking your arm around his as you walked to the kitchen. “Okay, I believe you. But at least let me make your cup for you?”

With a soft smile, he sat down at the little table, wincing as his weight left his leg.

“Does it hurt?” you cringed at the question. Of course, it hurt! A goddamn bullet went through it.

“Only when I stand on it. Or move it too much. Or too little.”

When you looked back to see if he was joking, you were pleased to find him smiling widely, scrunching his nose at you and tucking his hair behind his ears. God, his hair had gotten long.

Sticking out your tongue at him, you set the timer on the coffee maker and picked out a couple of mugs from the cabinet.

“Hey, are there any more of those little chocolates left? They go so well with coffee.”

You looked in the little tin Emily had brought in that used to contain an assortment of little dark chocolates. Sadly, it was empty.

“No luck. Although….” you reached up to the cupboard above the microwave, cheering when you saw an identical tin. “I knew she had an extra one!”

But, even standing on your tippy-toes, the shelf was too tall for you to reach on your own.

“Ugh, dammit!”

A soft hand snaked around your shoulders, softly pulling you toward the ground and you spun around, face to face with Spencer. You gasped softly at his proximity. He was so close, you could smell his shampoo. He smelled like green tea and autumn.

One hand on his cane, holding him upright carefully, the other hand reached up and fetched the tin effortlessly. You’d forgotten how tall he really was in the past week due to his frequent inclination to sitting.

“Thank you,” you breathed, suddenly painfully aware of how close your lips were, or, more accurately, how far apart they were.

“Sure,” he whispered back.

It was dark in the kitchen. After seven o’clock, the lights get turned off so the only luminance you got was from the wide-awake city just outside the huge glass windows.

Spencer’s eyes were half-lidded, watching you very carefully, neither of you daring to move.

For a split second, it looked as though he was leaning in, but, oh so cruelly, the coffee timer went off and you flinched away, turning toward the machine. When you looked back, Spencer had sat down.

Oh well. It was probably wishful thinking, anyhow.

“Three sugars?” you teased as he proudly poured several packets into his mug. “How are you alive?”

“You know, I ask myself that more often than you might think,” he laughed, glancing down at his leg.

Unintentionally, he’d shifted the mood of the conversation and the questions you’d been holding back were daring to break free.

“Spencer, do you ever….”

“Do I ever what?” he prompted after you trailed off.

“I don’t know…. Do you ever feel like sometimes, it isn’t worth it?”

“No.”

He answered quicker than you’d expected and with a sureness you didn’t associate with him. At your shocked expression, he clarified.

“I mean, there are times when it doesn’t all work out, sure. But… every life we save… that makes it worth it.”

“Yeah,” you leaned back, taking a long sip of your coffee. “I guess I’m just worried about the lives we don’t save.”

He shrugged.

“Sadly, in our line of work, you have to separate yourself from the case. Don’t get attached.”

“What if it’s too late? What if you’re already attached and the person whose life doesn’t get saved is someone you lo—”

Stopping abruptly, you took a deep breath, glancing down at where your hand was tightly clutching your cup, letting the tension melt away. When did that happen?

“It’s very rare that an unsub comes after our loves ones,” it sounded like he was trying to sound calm about it but you felt the weight of his eyes boring into you.

“What if the person who gets hurt isn’t…. What if it’s someone who doesn’t know they’re loved?”

Spencer was looking at you but you didn’t dare to meet his gaze. If you did, you knew he would instantly understand what you were saying.

And yet, the pull of his eyes was too strong for you to not look. As expected, when you made eye-contact, his expression shifted to one of understanding. He was the first to look away.

“I should go, it’s getting late,” you stood, clearing your throat and placing your cup in the sink.

When you turned back around, Spencer was there.

“Why would someone you love not know that they’re loved?”

He was closer than he’d been before, the air between you charged with the many outcomes the next few minutes held for you. When you spoke, it was barely audible but you knew he heard you.

“Because I haven’t told him.”

His hand moved to your cheek so, so slowly it felt like an hour passed. Once his skin met yours, you couldn’t help but lean into the feeling, eyes fluttering shut and pushing your face against his calloused palm.

Two little words was all it took to make you lose all sense of resolve. Two words that shattered the glass barrier between you that you hadn’t even known was there.

“He knows.”

Letting out the breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding, you slid your hands slowly up the front of his suit jacket, resting on his shoulders. He was so tall.

“How do you know?”

He hesitated for a split second, glancing down at your lips and then back up at your eyes. But suddenly, he pulled back, a wince ghosting over his face and shifting on his feet.

“Sorry,” he muttered, glancing down at his cane reluctantly.

Your finger moved to his lips, silently telling him to be quiet as you walked forward, slowly backing him up until his legs hit the seat of his chair and he sat down in it, staring up at you. Now that he was sitting, you moved to stand between his legs, holding the eye-contact with every ounce of energy you could spare.

“Does it hurt?” you repeated, fingers danced lightly over his left knee, touching just softly enough to tickle but not nearly hard enough to hurt. He kept watching you the whole time.

“No.”

“Can I see?”

He clearly had not been expecting that. It took a bit of stuttering before he was able to form a coherent sentence.

“How-how would you…? I’m-I can’t-I’m not supposed to roll up my pant legs.”

His eyes followed your hands as they slowly made their way up his leg to his belt, hooking underneath it.

“Like this?” it was more a question than an answer. He looked at you like he couldn’t quite figure out what you were planning. There was a wariness he was trying to cover up. As if you’d pull down his pants and start laughing at him. Then, he seemed to realize your intentions were— for the most part— pure.

He nodded curtly and you got to work unbuckling his belt, slowly popping open the button and sliding his zipper down. He lifted his hips so you could pull his pants down his legs.

You had to stop yourself from gasping at the sight of his thick thighs. He was much more muscular than you’d been expecting. Normally, he looked so skinny under his tight work shirts, you’d thought there wouldn’t be a trace of muscle beneath.

Pulling the fabric down, you let it fall to the floor, exposing his bandaged knee. Your hand was drawn to the wrap like a magnet, hesitating before making any contact, eyeing him questioningly.

He nodded again, watching you intently the whole time.

Gently, oh, so gently, you stroked the soft skin of his knee, running your fingers everywhere but where you knew the bullet had gone.

The tension in the room had risen considerably and you felt the urge to break it.

“Must be a hassle, huh?” you laughed softly, resting your hand just above his knee at the end of his thigh.

“Yeah,” he chuckled back, “makes it really hard to do lots of stuff.”

You crooked an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Oh? Like what?”

He seemed shocked by the question like he hadn’t actually thought about it.

“Just simple stuff. Mostly standing. Actually, it’s made it harder to use my right arm as well. Since I use it to hold my cane all day, it gets really tiring.”

“So you can’t really use your right arm? Aren’t you right-handed?”

He smiled sadly.

“I said it makes things harder.”

“Harder to brush your teeth and stuff?”

He raised his eyebrows slightly, looking away and muttering, “and stuff, for sure.”

“What?”

“I have trouble…. Nothing, nevermind.” He shifted in his chair but his leg stayed still like he didn’t want to disturb your hand.

“Spencer, you can tell me! What, you can’t masturbate?” you joked, punching him playfully in the arm.

But his face went blank and his gaze snapped away from yours, cheeks turning a soft pink in the darkness.

Oh?

Ohhhhh.

You were suddenly painfully aware of how close your hand was to his….

Hmm.

Maybe?

No.

Well, it’s worth a shot.

“Spencer?” he reluctantly looked at you again, an embarrassed expression on his face. It didn’t stay that way for long, though, as your hand slowly inched its way further up his thigh and his eyes went wide, snapping to where your hand was.

“Do you want some help?”

He looked at you again, eyes slightly glazed over and you swore you could feel him shiver where your hand was placed on his inner thigh, inches from his underwear. When he realized what you meant, he softly gasped, looking around the room quickly.

“W-what did you say?”

Your fingers danced across the bottom hem of his boxers, coaxing a gasp from him as you trailed up to the waistband, hooking your fingers underneath and gently tugging.

“Do you. Want. Some help?” with each word you slid your fingers deeper in his boxers. You weren’t going to touch him, though. Not yet. You needed permission.

“Spencer?”

All too quickly, his hand wove through your hair and yanked your face up to meet his lips, crashing together in a mix of teeth and tongues. He tasted like bitter chocolate and sugary coffee. It took you a moment to comprehend that this was even happening. Your hand was still halfway inside of his underwear, so close to touching his….

He pulled back and instantly began to apologize and backtrack but you weren’t having that.

“Shut up,” and you climbed into his lap, straddling his thighs, making sure to avoid his injury, dedication all of your energy towards pulling his long locks and placing his arms on your hips, gently urging him to move you. His boxers were so thin and your skirt had ridden up so your panties were pressed firmly against something hard. You didn’t think too much about that, more focused on deepening the tender kiss into something more.

But you had to pull back to look at him, lips plump, red, and thoroughly kissed, a glaze over his eyes and a dopey smile on his face.

“I’ve wanted this for so long, Spencer,” you admitted, breath ghosting over his neck, a spattering of goosebumps appearing in the wake.

“Me too,” he mumbled against your lips, hands carefully roaming up and down your back as you arched into him. The movement jostled his leg and he sucked in air through his teeth.

You froze atop him, pulling back to ask, “Are you okay?”

He nodded tightly, eyes clenched shut and you smiled softly at him.

“I hate that it took you getting shot for this to happen,” you joked, sliding your hands across his stomach under his shirt, reveling in the way he shuddered.

“I don’t mind,” he chirped happily, clasping his hands behind your back and giving you a dazzling smile.

“Listen, I know it’s late but… Do you maybe want to get a coffee? A proper one,” you added, nodding towards his discarded cup.

Clearly excited at the idea, he perked up a bit in his seat, wincing at the way your butt bumped his knee.

“I’d like that. One condition?”

You nodded.

“Help me up?”

Smiling, you stood up, pulled up his pants, slowly redid his belt, and held out a hand to help him stand. He picked up his cane from where it rested against the table.

“So long as you’re buying.”

He laughed, leaning on his cane and taking your hand in his, gently limping toward the elevator, you at his side.

“When don’t I?”

“Come on, moneybags,” you gently moved his arm so it was around your shoulders so that he could lean more of his weight onto you rather than the cane. “I think we’re gonna need lots of caffeine for the night I’ve got planned.”

“I can’t wait.”

TAGLIST

@whollytaciturn @101donuts @thegingerfairchild @safertokiss @happyiidiot @cielo1984 @thupidalethea @darkacademiacherry @matthewreid @aloha-ashley-taylor @justchiara-02 @spnobsessedmemes @sweet-darlin @matthewreid @brokenanxiety @thatsonezesty13 @psychedellic-phase @beautifulalmondstudentduck @awhollandx @baddreamsandbrokenhearts @simp-for-mgg @swagdaddycam @gejatume @url-under-construction @radkryptonitepeanut @idontneedalltheseemotions @krymson182 @addie5264 @pinkdiamond1016 @gublergirls @georgia4287 @thineeminnie @untainted-memories @cm-is-kinda-cool

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid gifs #spencer reid fic #fanfic #fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #fandom #reader insert #cane spencer #reid #cane reid

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bubblesthemonsterartist · 3 years

Text

(don’t) wake me up

Hold Me Close (and never let me go) Masterlist

Shirayuki never did wake easily.

That’s what her grandparents always told her, voices fond and smiles baffled as she bounced off walls and stumbled her way to her bowl of froot loops in the hours before nine. Earlier bedtimes did not mean earlier risers, the film of sleep lingering until she was loaded down with her books and binders and bundled onboard her school bus. Not even the allure of a perfect attendance sticker was enough to pry her to full consciousness until after the morning school announcements were done and everyone had taken their seats.

College had been a blessing, any classes scheduled before 10am something everyone mourned. Sleep dazed students piling into their lecture halls wearing a unicorn onesie after lunch didn’t even cause her professors to bat an eye. “Everyone is tired,” Yuuha scoffed, bent over his laptop while downing an espresso with a redbull chaser.

This was fine, she thought. It was the ROTC crowd that were the odd ones; Mitsuhide showering off the sweat of morning PT and downing a plate full of protein before her first alarm of the day had even sounded.

It wasn’t until she was in medical school memorizing the symptoms of sleep disorders that she realized maybe her mornings were not… neurologically normal. But no graduate advisor was going to sign off for the time off needed for a sleep study and she had lived long enough like this, why not hold off a few years more?

Part of her wishes that she had done the tests back then; sacrificed a few perfect grades for the possibility of a well rested morning.

But considering her current predicament, perhaps she saved herself both time and money by not.

“Miss.”

A soft laugh and gentle pressure on her shoulder stops her cold. Blinking blearily, she stares at the whirls of gold paint dancing up a purple wall, the crinkled blue fabric covering the window beside it.

“Ah,” she breathes, rubbing at her crusty eyes. “I thought you weren’t supposed to do that.”

Another laugh, not unkind, filters through the haze. “Do what?”

Shirayuki turns where she stands - Oh, it’s a hallway. They’re in a hallway now. When did they do that? - and says, “Touch me without asking first.”

In the dim of the establishment's lighting, she can barely make out the color of his eyes, but she remembers. Gold. His eyes were… somehow gold.

No, that couldn’t be right.

“There are exceptions to every rule, Miss,” Obi says quietly, but his hands fall through the air, landing harmlessly at his side, and through the soft fuzz wrapping her brain, Shirayuki feels a paign of regret.

“Are you going to be alright?” he asks, his voice just as soft as they had been when the both of them had been wrapped in fresh, clean smelling sheets. “Do I need to call you a Lyft?”

It’s like turning over a flooded engine. She’s cranking the gas, keys turning in the ignition, the starter screaming-- “Oh!” Shirayuki shakes her head, scrubbing at her face again. God, she can’t remember the last time a conversation was this hard. It’s almost as if- as if she just woke up. Or something. “Oh, no. I came with a friend. She’s taking me home.”

In the dim half lighting, his eyes spark with humor and- and she thinks his eyes really are gold. Somehow. Either that or sleep deprivation has caused her to start processing the color yellow inappropriately, in which case, she really should schedule an appointment with a neurolo--

“Good to know, Miss,” he says, gesturing towards the door to the reception area. “I’m sure she’s waiting for you. We went a little over time.”

Shirayuki could not say this with complete certainty, but she was pretty sure she’d never been late to anything in her life. “Huh? Why?”

Obi glances up at the ceiling, scratching at the non-existent stubble at his chin. “You were… rather insistent that you wanted to stay in bed.”

Mortification floods her face with heat and she can only hope that the lighting is dim enough to hide it. She must have- she must have actually slep--

“I’m so sorry,” she blurts. Her grandparents had recorded it one time to show her; grandpa snickering behind their new camcorder as grandma wrangled Shirayuki’s floppy limbs out of bed and to standing. She had flopped right back onto the mattress, spooling the covers around her before grandma could catch her. Twice. To her knowledge, she had never outgrown it. “I’ve never woken up easily.”

His shoulders shake. “It was flattering, Miss, truly. Never have I seen a more satisfied customer.”

Now she wants to ask. But she might melt right through the floorboards first out of sheer embarrassment first. “I can’t believe I just made you lay there for an hour while I slept.”

“Professional hazard,” he quips with a wink. “You wouldn’t be the first lady to fall asleep on me.”

“That somehow doesn’t feel like something you should be bragging about,” she claps back, only to slap her hands over her mouth. Inside thoughts, Shirayuki. Inside thoughts.

“Well.” His hand lands on the door handle, huffing out a sound halfway to a laugh. “It depends on who you are talking to.”

All things considered, she may firmly be in the satisfied customers camp, so it really wasn’t fair of her to tease. Actually, now that she’s thinking about it, if she actually did sleep-- “Can I take you home with me?”

Fingers blanch on the door handle and- oh yes, those eyes were definitely, definitely, gold. “Uhm.”

“I mean!” Shirayuki’s hands slap against her cheeks this time. That- that didn’t come out right at all. “Do you have a business card? Or something?”

Obi just stares at her, and it may be her imagination, what with the lighting and all, but his cheeks seemed a little… darker than before.

“It’s just-” Oh, if only she had been blessed with even an ounce of tact. “I slept so well.”

Rubbing awkwardly at his neck, Obi huffs, “It was just a nap, Miss.” But he reaches behind her, plucking a card off of a wall rack covered in adverts from massage therapists and yoga instructors and, goodness, Shirayuki may have visited half of these establishments. “But any time you feel like drooling on my arm again, feel free to give me a call.”

She wants to tell him that it was more than a nap. It was the first time in months that there hadn’t been dreams. “Thank you.”

“I, ah-” Obi coughs into his fist, staring at the door. “I do have overnight rates.”

It’s Shirayuki’s turn to be speechless.

He tilts his chin towards the bit of cardstock in her hand. “Info on the back.”

Her tongue twists in her mouth, staring up at him, but he pulls on the handle and--

“Oh there you are!”

In the reception area, Yuzuri bounds to her feet, ushering her out of Obi’s shadow and into her arms. She already has her phone out. “I was beginning to wonder if you left or something. C’mon, let’s go get lunch at that little crepe place before things start getting busy.”

Shirayuki casts a wide eye look behind her, only catching the profile of Obi’s face as the door is pulled shut behind him.

“Okay!” Yuzuri bubbles, holding her phone between them as she leads them outside. She is not prepared for the cold blast of early spring air, but she’s even less prepared for the woman smiling up at her from Yuzuri’s phone. Pixelated leafs that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the Geocities era flutter across a soft focus headshot, the tinkle of piano keys emerging from underneath the sounds of passing cars. “So this is the reiki lady Kazaha swears by. She’s booked out for months, but he said he was able to get us a slot-”

“Yuzuri-” Shirayuki tries softly.

“-and, yes, I know how you feel about energy work, but her yelp reviews are really good and-”

“Yuzuri, I slept.”

Carefully swept up curls, freshly tied back into a high ponytail stop swinging, and Shirayuki almost bumps into her. Someone does bump into Shirayuki, though, then swears as Shirayuki collapses into Yuzuri’s back.

“Sorry-” Shirayuki begins, glancing behind her, but all that gets her is a dirty look as an old man swings around her, grumbling something about not stopping in the middle of the sidewalk-

Yuzuri takes hold of her arm, shuffling them to a display window. “Did you say,” she begins slowly, staring at her with wide eyes. “That you slept?”

Shirayuki nods, still unable to believe it herself. “And no dreams.”

Yuzuri takes a breath. Then another one. “Do you think… you could seep… some more?”

Any time Shirayuki closes her eyes, they burn, but she does it again and this time, her body goes momentarily weightless with the promise of unconsciousness. “Yea.”

“Okay, okay,” Yuzuri breathes, taking Shirayuki’s arm in hers once more. “Okay, yea, let’s- let’s get you home, then.”

~ ~ ~

“If I had known that this is what you needed, I would have done it ages ago.”

Shirayuki stares at the far wall. It was so much easier back there on the street, still sleep warm and a little bleary, to say that she would sleep. To say that she could. “Mm.”

Yuzuri’s arm wraps tighter about her waist, cold nose brushing against her neck. “Not that I haven’t enjoyed our little outings,” she continues. “I’ve always wanted to try that stuff.”

While Shirayuki doesn’t precisely agree, she’s not going to pretend that it hasn’t been an, ah, experience. “Mm.”

“I wonder why the professional cuddler worked but not the massage therapist?” Yuzuri hums. “If it was physical contact you needed, I would’ve thought--”

Shirayuki sighs, loud enough that Yuzuri stops talking. “It’s not coming.”

Propping herself up on her elbow, Yuzuri pulls at her shoulder, rolling Shirayuki until she’s flat on her back. Brain as heavy as a sack of beans, she watches Yuzuri frown at her still open eyes, confirming that Shirayuki was, indeed, not asleep, and then sighs.

With a plop, Yuzuri collapses back onto the mattress next to her once more, arm wrapping about her middle. It’s nice. Warm. She misses warm.

“Well, we just laid down, maybe you need some more time,” Yuzuri mumbles into her hair, and maybe- maybe she’s right. This is the closest she’s felt to sleep in her own bed in a long time. At least without heavy medication. “And maybe I should stop talking.”

That’s an idea. But it never used to bother her. Grandma could be on the phone right next to her for hours while she napped on the couch, and grandpa’s poker buddies could caw until the wee morning hours outside her bedroom window and Shirayuki would never stir. Even Zen, with his countless 2am business calls with Hong Kong, didn’t bother her--

“What sort of music were you listening to?” Yuzuri asks, flopping onto her back and digging out her phone. “We had some pretty windchimes.”

“Whales.” Shirayuki murmurs, without thinking. “We were listening to whales.”

She hadn’t liked them - they had sounded like drowning puppies - but maybe there was something to the experience that had made her relax enough. She remembers reading about it in a journal once. The researcher had said something about frequencies and brain waves and music therapists having moderate success with the method, but it’s buried under the mounds of more… established papers that she had given more time to.

Yuzuri props her phone up on the nightstand, soft cetacean whines filling the room. Settling back down next to her, Shirayuki’s eyes flutter shut at the sensation of fingers gently winding through her hair. It’s nice. Comforting, even. But not-

“It is working?” Yuzuri whispers.

“Mm.” Shirayuki doesn’t dare move. Not when she’s so close to the edge like this. “A little bit.”

“Maybe the smell is wrong,” she muses, thumb brushing against Shirayuki’s temple in soothing strokes. “Sorry, my hair product can be a little strong.”

Honestly, Shirayuki hadn’t even noticed. “It’s okay.”

“I’ll get you some tea tree oil tomorrow,” she says absently. “I think that’s what they had in their diffusers. I’ve seen the good stuff for sale at the organic grocer down the street from me.”

One by one, her muscles unwind, the pressure on her brain easing. She can’t find the energy to respond, her thoughts winking out one by one--

Buzz buzz buzzzzzzzzzzzz

Shirayuki’s eyes spring open.

“First mistake,” Yuzuri groans. “Leaving your phone in the bedroom.”

Shirayuki just might cry. With a whine, she shifts onto her side, moving to grab for her purse dumped at the side of her bed-

A firm hand stops her midroll, Yuzuri staring down at her with her mouth pressed into a thin line. “Second mistake,” she frowns. “Checking it.”

She’s very likely right, but- “It might be the hospital,” she counters.

“Then it’s low priority,” Yuzuri claps back. “You have a pager for a reason.”

“I don’t like making people wait.” Shirayuki squirms out of Yuzuri’s hold, fishing her phone out of her purse. “If it’s small, then it’ll just be a minute.”

“When you’re done, I’m taking that from you and putting it in the kitchen,” Yuzuri grumps. “And putting it on silent.”

“Deal.” Shirayuki smiles, swiping her thumb over the blank screen. Blue swirls fill the screen, a single message notification block blaring across the center that says,

IZANA WISTERIA

“Whelp.” Yuzuri’s chin digs into Shirayuki’s shoulder. “You’re never going back to sleep now.”

With a wince and a familiar churn of the gut, Shirayuki carefully rearranges her face before even attempting to cast her friend an apologetic smile.

“Sorry,” she sighs. “You might as well go home. I know Suzu must be missing you.”

“That telephone pole was probably looking forward to a night without me starfishing all over the bed,” Yuzuri grumps, pushing herself up. “But you’re right. I don’t want to be dragged into whatever overtime horror project Wisteria is pulling you in on.”

Shirayuki frowns, watching Yuzuri sweeping up the mess of her hair. “It’s not like that.”

That earns her the rise of an eyebrow. “Then what, pray tell, is it like?” Yuzuri challenges back, pinning her bun into place.

Shirayuki doesn’t know how to answer that question. Doesn’t know how to explain that things are complicated, and not in a Bumble sort of way. That the incident created a strange world where only her and Izana lived, and well…

Well she doesn’t think that Izana would appreciate her talking to anyone about it, even if that someone was her best friend. To be frank, she doesn’t even know how to begin describing the odd dynamic between the two of them.

She struggles for a response for too long and Yuzuri sighs, grabbing her phone off the nightstand and stuffing it in her coat pocket. “Call me if you need anything,” she says, like she always does. “I’ll be over with tea tree-everything in the morning.”

From the comfort of her blankets, Shirayuki smiles. “Thanks, Yuzuri.”

“Mm.” With a lazy wave over her shoulder, she calls. “Don’t stay up too late!”

From down the hall, Shirayuki hears the front door latch shut, her apartment once again falling into stillness. Unnatural silence. And even under her down feather duvet, Shirayuki feels a chill. Maybe she should have asked Yuzuri to turn up the thermostat before she left. Or maybe she should just take the plunge and get herself a cat. They’re warm.

Taking a deep breath, the smell of her single, empty apartment filling her lungs, Shirayuki looks back at her phone. And, with a resigned sigh, clicks Read.

#bubbleswrites #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #obiyuki #professional cuddler au #TAG JEN YOU'RE IT

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catsandstrawberries · 4 years

Text

Rogue Firebender

Pairing: Firebending! Jeon Jungkook x Firebending! Fem! Reader

Summary: After spending time as a fire nation general you decide to go rogue and rebel against the genicide the nation is causing against the other elements. But a mission to save an earth bending group goes wrong when your worst enemy shows up. Jeon Jungkook.

Warnings: Enemies to lovers (Enemies to sex friends?), vaginal sex, oral sex (fem receiving), spit kink, slight FemDom, Violence, some mentions of gore but nothing to bad, swear words, Jungkooks kind of an asshole.

Based on Avatar the Last Airbender

Part 2

This wasn't my best plan.

I'd like to say I'm good at making plans, and by making plans, I mean split minute life or death decisions, but today was going downhill fast.

I didn't calculate a multitude of things that day.

I didn't calculate how absolutely frustrated I would be and how that would cloud my mind.

I didn't calculate the sheer amount of earthbending slaves the squadron had captured, and I definitely didn't calculate the firebender that would ambush me.

Jeon Jungkook.

The issue with Jungkook was that despite being the same age as me he was practically the fire lords next in line. A dog, willing to bend at the rules and orders as long as he was given a treat and praised like a good little puppy.

Jeon Jungkook was also one of the most talented firebenders I had ever met, and it was a shock to the four nations that I had escaped him for so long.

But that was their fault for underestimating me.

Shackles clanged against the ground, the sound reverberating through the mountainside as soldiers led woman, men, children all in a line towards deaths row.

I defined myself as a freedom fighter, fighting to free those enslaved by the fire nation who used them for their personal gain.

But I was more commonly known as the rogue firebender on every wanted sign in the four nations.

A small child grasped onto his mother's hand, elephant tears slipping past his eyelashes, a monkey stuffy clutched in his hand as he scanned the empty scenery.

Empty, save for me.

I had intercepted a fire nation transcript of them transferring and killing slaves, but there were three times the amount then I expected. Freeing them would be a hassle if I wanted to bring them all back to the mainland and away from fire nation reign.

I grumbled in frustration under my breath. Getting frustrated had always been an issue of mine and my mood just seemed to boil with annoyance.

Four guards led the group, four guards are easy when they don't involve innocents, but I had a sneaking suspicion these guys wouldn't play fair.

I had learned from my previous encounters that jumping up and shouting 'hey ugly!' wasn't the best way to get their attention, so I'm attempting a more solid approach.

My foot made direct impact with the soldier's face and I smirked at the harsh smack that followed.

I threw a serious of fireballs towards the three soldiers, screams, and shouts from the earthbenders filling my ears as fire soared over their heads.

I leaned back as colors of red and orange flew by me, barely evading the destructive flame. I dropped to my knees and swung my leg out to knock the solider off guard, smirking in satisfaction while they all groaned in pain on the ground.

Breaking away from the soldiers I rushed to the group of earth benders, wincing when they all recoiled back from me.

"I won't hurt you, I want to help you."

That was another issue with being a rogue firebender, nobody trusted you, even if you were saving people's lives. I was still a fire bender.

I held my hand below the chains, a small flameworking at the metal until it seared and broke in half.

"Listen, get to the checkpoint, someone will be there to help you cross back into earth kingdom territory, but you need to hurry."

They nodded as a collective and went running in the opposite direction, the little boy giving me a shy wave as he disappeared. Relief passed through my body as I watched them leave, well...until I heard his voice.

"Such a noble act, little rebel."

My body froze and a tingling feeling spread over my skin. The fire in my bones warming at the sound of his voice.

"Taking out four soldiers at once, impressive. But hears the thing, I may be one person, but even you know I'm stronger than all four of them combined."

I slowly turned around, a mop of black hair and olive skin greeting me, red eyes filled with speckles of gold gleaming my way. His fancy robes of red and black stuck to his skin, his mark of nobility. I hated him.

"If you're stronger than all of them then how come I've won every fight?"

His calm composure faltered for a moment, a snarl curling onto his face, "because you love to run."

Speaking of running...

Although I loved getting in a brawl with the attractive 21-year-old who had a jawline sharper than any cooking knife, I was exhausted.

Tracking down secret human trade routes was a lot of work, and though I made fighting four men look easy it took energy.

So for the first time in my life, I took Jungkooks advice,

I ran.

"Shit." I briefly heard him mumble followed by the harsh sound of his boots on the dirt.

I kept a strong pace ahead of Jungkook, I was more agile than him, faster than him, everything was stacked on me getting away.

Except for terrain.

Leaves and branches cut against the skin of my arms as I pushed through the multicolored forest near the edge of the mountainside.

Prickly bushes and plants caught on the fabric of my pants and rocks stung against the bareness of my feet.

Despite the not so good situation, I was smiling. Maybe I was cocky, but I was happy because I knew I was gonna win. I knew that I was faster and better then Jungkook and he would never, ever, bring me back.

But the sudden terrain no longer held flat ground but a deep drop towards a glistening pool of water. My heels dug into the ground as I skidded to a stop, my heart rapidly pounding in my ears as I looked for an escape route. Just before I could jump, a body collided against my back, and a scream escaped my lips. The two of us tumbled down towards the water, dirt sticking to our skin and rocks cutting against our bodies as we rolled and eventually hit the water.

My vision exploded with colors before briefly going black, my senses only comprehending my heavy breathing and the dragging and pulling consciousness of my mind.

Did I mention I fucking hate Jeon Jungkook?

My back stung as if hundreds of needles were being stabbed into my skin, my throat constricting as a pressure pulsed on my chest. My vision which had previously consisted of darkness suddenly sprung to life when I rolled on my side, coughing out the water that had invaded my lungs and rubbing at my red eyes.

Then I noticed him.

Hovering directly above me, his mouth glistening with water and his hands hovering over my chest. The realization suddenly dawned on me and I harshly pushed him, my hand swinging back to spew a fire attack on him only for his hand to catch my wrist. Calloused fingers tightening around my tensed arm.

"I save your life and this is what I get?" His gruff voice showed no ounce of sympathy and I fired back,

"you were the one who pushed us off that cliff, you idiot." At my words, I fully take him in, a layer of clothing is missing so now he's only in a simple black tunic and his normal fire nation general pants. His hair is dripping with water and a trail of blood leaks from a cut on his lip. I openly smirk at his wound.

"Thanks so much for trying to ruin my life, but I'm leaving."

As soon as my body puts pressure on my right ankle, a broken sob is escaping my lips and I'm collapsing back onto the pebbly surface.

Jungkook stands and watches, a blank look on his face until I collapse and his lips curl in a smirk.

"I don't think so little rebel. You're coming with me back to the fire nation."

My blood turns cold, my eyes gaping at the man who I had so expertly evaded for so long, had finally won?

"You are a monster." I seethed, wide eyes now narrowing in on him as he kneeled down to my level, fingers harshly grabbing at my chin,

"there's a reason you're on every wanted poster in the nations. If anything, you're the monster (y/n)." I hate the way he says my name. I hate the way he looks at me as if he can control me, and as if he's won. The fire nation will never win if I have anything to say for it. So I do what any other person would do, I spit in his face.

Jungkook had another thing coming if he thought getting me back to the fire nation would be easy. I couldn't bend myself out of the situation because of the fact I couldn't walk. No walking means no running. So instead I decided to be the most annoying prisoner he ever had until I figured out a way to escape.

"Get on the stupid horse."

"It's not a horse, its an alpaca, and they have feelings unlike you so stop insulting it." Jungkook spluttered while I sat on the ground in front of the barn we had found.

Since I couldn't walk Jungkook had forcefully carried me on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes until we found civilization, and we just so happened to stumble upon an alpaca farmer willing to sell.

"I don't care what it is, get on it or your gonna be dragged back." He seethed and I held up my bound hands, nothing but a rope that I could easily burn through stopping me from escaping. Well, that and my twisted ankle.

"You expect me to get on that thing by myself? I'm incapable." I said with big eyes and a pout forming on my face.

Jungkook, ever the gentleman, picked me up suddenly and threw me onto the alpaca, an oooof breaking from my mouth at the sudden change.

"Their. Let's go."

Jungkook had, for some reason, taken a long way around, and before we could cross into fire nation territory, we would have to pass an earth bending town run by the fire nation.

The closer we got into town the more Jungkook seemed to tense. Steering the alpaca closer to him by the reigns. Jungkook gave me a glare and mumbled,

"I'll be right back." To where I have no idea. The fact he was leaving me alone was unsettling on many fronts, but I had a sneaking suspicion he was still watching me.

People walked by in waves, barely paying any attention to me who had one of Jungkooks generals robes pulled on my shoulders. If anything they refused to look at me assuming I was a fire nation general than an ally.

I hated it.

"Did you hear about what happened? They found a few of them."

A stranger spoke and without anything better to do, I listened in.

"That's horrible! What's happening to them."

"The fire nation is taking them to the town center probably for an-"

Jungkook suddenly appeared in front of me, a black hat in hand while he attempted to fit it on my head.

"Stop moving." He grumbled.

"Why do I need a hat?" I asked while he messed with strands of hair, his face inches from mine.

"Because if people recognize you they'll be a riot." I scoffed and tore my face away from him, tempted to spit in his face again.

"(Y/N)." For the first time since we've been together since the fall, he spoke earnestly, softly.

"Don't do anything stupid, I won't stop them if a guard tries to kill you." The feeling of hope that Jungkook had changed, suddenly disappeared and a frown spread on my face.

Jungkook led the alpaca in silence, bordering around the large crowds that started to form in the center of town.

"What's happening?" I asked. Jungkook disregarded my question, nothing but a silent look given to me before he responded,

"nothing."

A scream erupted from somewhere and the crowd started to murmur,

"What aren't you telling me!?" I whisper shouted above the noise.

Jungkook opens and closed his mouth, suddenly at a loss for words, and on my own accord, I scanned the crowd, searching for answers or a sign, and then I saw it.

A small monkey stuffy and elephant tears.

"This is an execution. They're gonna kill them." I spoke breathlessly.

"People of the earth kingdom, these slaves were found on the run, and by order of the fire nation, they are to be publicly executed. Rebellion is unacceptable and anyone associated with the rebellion will be killed."

My head shot to Jungkook at the soldier's words,

"Jungkook we need to do something. They're innocent." Jungkook refused to look at me, the only answer I got from him was the head of black hair.

"Jungkook there are children about to be murdered."

"I know! But we need to ignore it!" He shouted, sounding as if he needed to convince himself rather than me.

"Ignore it? Jungkook you will never be more than anything but a dog to the fire nation. A rug the fire lord will wipe his feet on, simply because you are too blind to the injustice around you."

Hurt flashed in Jungkook gold-flecked eyes, his eyes going wide much like a puppy. I didn't dote on it and instead lit the rope tying my hands together, kicking fire towards Jungkook who barely avoided the attack.

I hopped off the Alpaca, pain shooting up my leg as my ankle throbbed against the ground. Instead of putting pressure on it, I started to hop forward, ignoring Jungkooks shouts and swears from behind me.

I pushed past the crowd, tripping over people, and racing to get to the child before the guard could.

It was my fault they were found, I couldn't let them die.

It was the boy and his mother, both hugging each other as a fire nation guard stalked around them. Taunting his prey before he would publicly burn them to a crisp.

That bastard.

I saw the flame escape his palm first, a grunt escaping my mouth as I lunged forward towards the mother and son. Sweat dripping down my skin as I caught the flame, redirecting it back towards the solider.

Murmurs spread across the crowd, a few shouts of the rogue firebender igniting the area before the general let out an annoyed shout, a flame spreading around him in a circle.

I must not have realized how much energy I used because before he even stalked towards me my legs were collapsing under me. I weakly pushed a flame toward the general stalking towards me, blocking my body in front of the duo behind me.

He ignored my weak attempt to protect them and grabbed me by the throat. I scratched at his hands while he lifted me into the air, my windpipes struggling to take in air.

"You think she can save you?!" I gasped in pain when my body slammed into the ground, fighting to gather my breath as my body blended into the dirt. My body igniting with shock at the sudden drop.

"She is nothing. Anyone who associates with her will die." From the corner of my vision, I watched him reach out towards the boy, his stance flowing backward in a sign of pre-bending. Before I could do anything a voice broke through the crowd.

"Stand down general." Jungkook appeared in the center of the ring, his hand enclosed around the wrist of the general while the boy and his mother cowered behind him. Sobs escaping their mouths.

"Major Jeon-" The general fell into a low bow.

"Sir these slaves were found running from the fire nation, punishable by execution under the fire nat-"

"I've pardoned them." I would have had a similar reaction to the general if I was able to fully move. His head whipping up and his brows furrowing in confusion.

"But-"

"I am taking the rebel to fire lord Ozai, he will need witnesses and requests to speak to the slaves themselves."

"Sir-"

"Are you defying a direct order from the fire lord?" Jungkook maintained a calm composure, an annoyed scowl on his face while the general groveled on the ground at his feet.

"Of course not sir-"

"Leave, all of you!" Jungkook shouted unemotionally to the crowd who filed out as soon as the command left his mouth, the general following after them.

Jungkook walked over to me, kneeling down and placing one of my arms over his shoulders.

"You're an idiot." He mumbled while I leaned on him for support,

"look whos talking Mr. 'I won't stop them if a guard tries to kill you'." The mother shook violently with tears as we approached them, the boy looking at us in confusion as he clutched his monkey.

"We aren't taking you to the fire nation," I spoke with earnest, Jungkook shooting me a look that I ignored.

"But you do need to leave, get as far away as you can, and don't stop until you're in Ba Sing Se." The mother fell into my arms, a difficult position considering I was still leaning on Jungkook, 'thank you's' spewing from her mouth and a combination of snot and tears wetting my shirt. When she had collected herself the little boy stepped forward, and for a moment I thought he was going to hug me. But his little arms wrapped around Jungkooks leg, a smile on his face as he peered up at him, "thank you for saving mommy, monkey and me." He snuggled his face into Jungkooks leg and I analyzed Jungkook's reaction, watching his shoulders slump and his eyes fall before he gently placed a hand on the boy's head full of blonde hair.

Once the two had successfully left, Jungkook silently forced me on his back, leading us down a random trail through the woods.

"What are you doing?" I asked. He didn't respond and only started to walk faster.

"Jungkook where are you going?"

"Shut up."

Jungkook walked ahead another mile or so before he finally placed me down in a clearing, the sun starting to set behind us.

"Jungkook?"

"Do you ever shut up?" He said as he started a fire, sitting down directly in front of me and placing my ankle onto his lap. He handed me a stick and gently prodded my mouth open, his thumb tracing the outline of my bottom lip. "Bite down on this."

I followed as he said until a strangled scream escaped my throat, my back flinging backward as Jungkook suddenly snapped my ankle back into place.

"Fuck you, Jeon!" I heaved out, crawling onto my knees and glaring up at him.

"I just saved your life." He fired back, eyes raging,

"You didn't save my life you saved yours! If I died there then you wouldn't get to bring your prize back to daddy Ozai!"

"Shut up!"

I rolled out of the way as a red and orange flame shot towards me, and without thinking I flung my body at Jungkook, the two of us falling to the ground. I threw a series of punches at him, most of them hitting his chest and one hitting him square in the jaw. Jungkook grabbed at my waist and flipped us, his fingers grabbing my wrist and pinning them against the ground.

Our chests rose and fell with exhaustion and Jungkooks face suddenly fell into the crook of my neck, his grip still strong on my wrists.

"What happened to you? You used to be the best major in the fire kingdom?" He spoke softly while my brain went haywire. My past in the fire nation was dark, I did things for them I regret. Bad things I believed to be good, but even when I started to suspect they were bad, I still did them. I used to be the best, yes, at killing people, hunting people down.

"Look at my stomach." Jungkook looked at me wide-eyed as if asking for confirmation before letting go of my hands. Peeling away the fabric against my torso only to suddenly pull it down.

"Who did that to you?"

My fingers softly played with the fabric,

"Ozai. I publicly disobeyed his orders, he wanted me to teach his son a lesson. Beat him up. I couldn't. So he burned me." I lifted the fabric over my head, Jungkook harshly looking away from me.

"Jungkook. Look at me." Jungkook slowly took me in, nothing but a bra, pants, and a scolding burn against the skin of my torso.

"The fire nation kills innocents, and he's gonna kill you too if that means he gets his way."

Jungkook looked at me with unshed tears in his eyes,

"It's all I've ever known."

"I know." My answer was automatic because I've been in Jungkook's shoes. Faced the issues and controversy in my own mind, but I no longer saw it as betraying my own nation but helping save it.

"C'mere." He mumbled, pulling me into his lap. The soft pads of his fingers tracing the outline of my scar that glowed by the light of the fire.

His hands caressed the sides of my ribs leaving ripples of touch in his wake. His eyes straying upwards to my eyes, big brown doe eyes locking onto mine as if I was the key to all of his issues. All of his pain.

"Let me touch you." Jungkook was straightforward in life, and I don't know why his words shocked me so much, but they did. The want pouring from his eyes and the warmth emitting from his body clouded my brain, clouded my mind until I whispered,

"Okay."

Jungkook leaned forward, his mouth ghosting over mine before he leaned in, connecting our plump lips to one another. Melding our moves in a dance of fire and passion. My hands traveled up towards his head, curling my fingertips around his dark hair and pulling when he knawed against my bottom lip.

He groaned under my ministrations and gave me a half-lidded look,

his hands picking at the fabric of my bra.

Getting the message I grabbed at the fabric and pulled it overhead, Jungkooks eyes widening at my breasts that bounced with the freedom. His hands traced upwards until his thumbs toyed with my nipples. A hiss passing through my lips while a smirk spread on his face.

"Look at you little rebel, getting all red and responsive under me. I'm gonna make you feel so good." He mumbled just before taking the bud in his mouth, sucking and grazing it with his teeth.

"Kook" I muttered while I watched him switch breasts, my legs twitching at the sight of him looking up at me with my nipple in his mouth.

"Take your shirt off." Jungkook gave me a wink at my command and reached for the back of his shirt, pulling it up and over his shoulders.

"Yes, commander." I paid little attention to his joke, my eyes tracing the ridges and outlines of his stomach. Admired his toned section as well as the beautiful tummy fat that had started to form.

"I want to make you scream, little rebel." His fingers pushed down at the pants that stuck to my skin and he gently pushed me down on the ground, the dirt scratching against my bareback.

"I want to see this beautiful little pussy."

Self-consciousness suddenly passed through my body in waves and my legs crossed at the sudden chill of the night air. A red flush spreading over my face as memories of the girls Jungkook attracted through his time as a general. When we were both at the fire nation Jungkook was known for getting the prettiest girls, fucking the best girls. Was I a good fuck?

"Hey." As if Jungkook could sense my stress his hands cupped at my cheeks, his eyes locked onto mine.

"You're beautiful."

The redness of my checks only seemed to darken, and I twisted my head to the side so he wouldn't get the satisfaction of looking at me.

"Shut up and make me feel good."

I didn't hear a response from Jungkook but I felt his response. His fingers trailing down to between my legs. His other hand spreading my legs apart while he laid himself down on his stomach, fingers gently spreading my folds apart in front of him.

"So pretty." He mumbled above the ringing and embarrassment in my ears.

"Jungkoo-ok." I half groaned half moaned while he inserted his middle finger into my cunt, adding his ring finger with the help of my wetness forming around his fingers.

"You're so wet for me rebel." A wet feeling spread from my inner thigh to the edge of my folds, my body jerked at the feeling.

His fingers spread in v like motion and a broken sob escaped my mouth, an annoyed yell following when he pulled his fingers out.

"Jungk-!" I gasped as he dragged me closer to his mouth, his fingers wrapping around my hips and a quick slob of spit falling onto my clit.

"I can't wait to taste you rebel, are you gonna cum on my mouth? You better." His thumb rolled around the bud of my clit, the moisture of his spit allowing his thumb to roll in all directions.

And then his mouth was on me. His tongue licking a long strip up my pussy, encircling my folds and sticking it in my hole as if it was his fingers. My back arched under his ministrations and tears formed in the corner of my eyes,

"cum baby" Jungkook muttered against my pussy, wiggling his lips further into my cunt, glistening juices covering his lips and dripping onto his nose.

"I'm so close," I mumbled out incoherently while Jungkook added a ring finger, his mouth engulfing my bud into his mouth and sucking harshly.

My mouth fell open and my legs shock while Jungkook coerced my orgasm, my head falling back onto the ground and a broken moan responding to the juices that flew through my body. My hips grinded upwards before falling to the ground, twitching in the aftermath of my orgasm.

"I was right. You taste like heaven little rebel." Jungkook wiped at his glistening mouth and my belly couldn't help but do flips at the sight, energy shooting down to my core despite the exertion I had just been through.

"Take your pants off Kook." Jungkook smirked at me and raised an eyebrow, "I'd rather have you take them off." I glared at him but he still listened, but before we could do anything I suddenly winced at the soreness of my back. I couldn't stay like this for another round.

I flipped myself over Jungkook, his eyes widening in surprise as we switched positions.

"That's better."

My eyes traveled downwards to Jungkooks dick. It was long and curved, the girth enough for my hand to fit around it, enough to fill me up and give me relief.

I threw a leg over his hip and pumped his length twice, watching his eyes clench, and his tongue pokes against the inside of his cheek.

"As much as I'd love to get a handjob right now, I really want you to sit on my dick."

I took Jungkook advice to heart, rubbing myself against his head and finally sinking down on his dick. A moan escaping the two of us as I bottomed out on his lap.

"Fuck you're so full."

I clenched harshly against him, the new feeling of being filled sending my senses into overdrive as they tried to accommodate to him inside me.

"Fuck." Jungkook whined, his head falling backward,

"if you do that again I'm gonna nut inside you." I almost chuckled at his statement but my body was working before my brain could process, my hips lifting before pushing back down. A constant flow starting while Jungkooks hands gripped at my waist, helping me bounce against him.

"Fuck Jungkook, why do you have to be such a fucking idiot." I breathed out in between moans.

"Do we really have to do this now?" He spoke in gasps.

"Maybe if you came with me..." Jungkook thrust upwards and my hands shot to his chest to sturdy me.

"I don't want you to die (y/n)" he growled and thrust upwards once more before I caught my bearing, flipping my hair to my right shoulder and rolling my hips against his while he stuttered.

"Fuck I'm cuming." Jungkooks cum shot through me in waves, squirting into my body, just as he suddenly sat up and rubbed his thumb against my clit in harsh circles.

I grabbed at his wrist to anchor me while I sobbed at the onslaught of pleasure, my own orgasm shortly following while I collapsed onto him.

After a solid minute of the two of us catching our breath, we rolled onto the ground, our chests falling and rising in sync.

"Go rogue with me," I whispered, afraid of his reaction while his eyes downcast.

"I can't, we still have to go back. I'll help you though, I'll tell Ozai you should be commissioned back into a position of power. You can be a general again."

Hurt washed through me in waves. Hurt at how naive Jungkook is, and how conditioned he had been by the fire nation, he was the golden boy of the fire lord. How could I think he would change for me?

"I'm sorry Jungkook."

"For what?" The rock in my hand slammed against the side of his head. Hard enough for his eyes to fall shut and for him to have a horrible headache in the morning, but not hard enough for him to die.

I dressed quickly, sending Jungkook one last look before racing into the forest. I knew this wouldn't be the last time I would see him, I just hopped one day he would change, for his sake and mine.

"See you later Jungkook."

Taglist: @rebeccawoodrow @gee-nee @koochiekoo

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fuwafuwamedb · 3 years

Text

Summoning Solomon (Gudako, Solomon, A Baby Reho)

Sparks had flown by, the crying had been noisy, but she’d justified it. Just a few seconds in the circle and then she would be pulling the girl into her arms and carrying her back to bed. Just those few seconds, she’d reasoned.

Just a few.

“GUDAKO!”

Mash’s voice was shouting, the pounding on the door nearby making her head spin a little. She could see Reho crying in front of her, but there was a major drain to her senses. Where she had once had energy, now she could barely feel the strength to sit upright. Where she’d never noticed power before, now she was feeling every single ounce of power that held her head up and made her limbs capable of not being on the ground.

“GUDAKO! OPEN THE DOOR!”

She would love to have done just that, had she the energy.

It was hard enough to remain up. The sight of a set of deep robes could be seen, the red braid waving before the black robes. Back and forth, back and forth; she could see them closing in, until there was a hand pressing to her hair.

“GUDAKO!” Mash’s voice held a new note to it, higher in pitch than before.

“You should rest,” the familiar and melodic voice purred. The roughened feeling of the callouses on that hand brushing through her hair could be felt as those fingers reached her neck. Her eyes looked up, as best as she could manage at the moment. The view that came was just a glimmer of a shimmering silver. The hair curled along the ends, drawing her attention down as she felt the hand stroke at her face.

“GUDAKO! YOU GOTTA GET UP!”

“Rest,” the stranger’s voice insisted, tone turning more like his. “I’ll protect you.”

What was she to do, other than to close her eyes and let the hands guide her face towards the floor. The crying continued a moment before she heard a soft murmur.

“…We seem to share the same eyes, little one. How did this come about, I wonder.”

It had to be him.

After months of imagining his voice and hearing the recordings of his reports about the singularities, there was no doubt in her mind that it was him who had stood before her. She’d listened to every roll of his tongue over those r’s, every hiss in those s’s, every pop of those b’s and p’s as he would part his lips and let the sound escape him. She knew the way he would speak, lilting just slightly in that tone until the person was swept away by the ease of tone and speech.

His voice was the kind of voice that washed over a person like a gentle wave. It soothed with cool intent. It warmed with unerring concern and empathy. The way he spoke and the words he chose always drawing people in.

Gudako opened her eyes, staring up at the darkened ceiling.

A pounding was coming from her chest as she took in the stone ceilings. Her hands gripped a strange fabric, one that seemed to be covering the bed she found herself to be laying on. Each of the bannisters holding up the canopy looked to be carved, showing a dozen eyes looming over her.

But there wasn’t any noise.

Rehoboam wasn’t crying. That was the first thing she noted, when listening to the world around her. She couldn’t hear any servants either. Given that she had asswipes like Ozymandias and Gilgamesh as well as Edmond and BB in Chaldea, that wasn’t right. One of them would be laughing. One of them was always making some kind of noise.

There was more to the silence though.

She couldn’t hear any humming.

Chaldea was a place of artificially filtered air and recycled oxygen. Even in Edmond’s dreams he’d tossed her in, she’d still heard the noise of the air filters and air conditioner.

Here, there was nothing.

Gudako moved to sit up, looking at the world around her more closely. More stone structure could be seen around the dark wooden furnishings and trunks. Thick furs and rich fabrics of bold colors could be seen tucked around the trunk and over the walls. Here and there, a couple fabrics moved softly, giving off the signs of what had to be windows.

There were no sounds of machinery.

There were no voices.

Gudako went to move, but her eyes fell to the rich blue fabric wrapped around her person. The sleeves covered her arms, extending down to where gold rings on her middle fingers held the fabric over the backs of her hands. Her hair, now that she was paying attention, wasn’t getting in her way. She reached behind her head to feel a braid running down and passed a choker that was wrapped around her neck.

Where was she?

More importantly, where was Reho?

She moved onto her feet, noting and putting on a pair of soft leather slippers she found beside the bed. Her movements were quick, nimble; her grip on the blue robes she wore remaining steadfast as she slipped out of the bedchamber.

“Lady Solomon,” a servant greeted, bowing lightly.

“My name is Gudako.”

The light haired man raised his head, smiling a little. “Of course, my lady. We need to move quickly. Time is of the essence.”

“Have you seen a red haired baby around? Gold eyes?”

“That is why time is of the essence,” the man replied. “You’ve summoned two servants, it seems. They are fighting right now.”

“That’s what command spells are for-“

“You are injured,” the man shook his head. “Your mana circuits were injured during the summoning. Doing any commands would injure you further. If you do not mind, I need to help you escape the palace so you may leave Jerusalem and return to your Shadow Border.”

“We’re in Jerusalem?”

“Ma’am, we don’t have time for this.”

He didn’t, but if she was in Jerusalem, then she had questions. She hurried after him and glanced around a little more.

She hurried after him, bid forth with a tug from him and a pleading look. Her outfit jingled softly as they made their way down some steep steps.

“One question: Did I summon Solomon?”

The man before her stiffened.

Gudako watched him turn, glancing her way. His mouth opened, but someone stepped forth.

“I see you found her, Moses,” the blue haired man nodded to her, holding a bundle in his arms. “Lady, I found your child in the king’s chambers. I’m here to escort you back to your home. You may call me Saber.”

“I don’t call people by classes anymore. What’s your name, saber class?”

Her arms wrapped around the baby, pulling her little one close once more and watching those golden eyes open to look up at her. The same lopsided smile came to her face as Solomon always had held. Her eyes glimmered as Gudako looked up.

“Well?”

“…Jacques de Molay, my lady.”

“Jack. Cool.” Gudako glanced to Moses. “Your friend Ozy is really noisy, just so you know, Moses. When I’m done beating Solomon and this other servant’s ass, then we have to talk.”

“My lady-“

“Take me to Solomon, Jacques.”

She didn’t have a moment to spare.

#drabble #drabbles

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shreddedparchment · 4 years

Text

Absence Makes the Heart

04/17/2020

Pairing: Superman x Reader Word Count: 5,431

Warnings: language, lots of language, violence, blood, wounds, injuries, plenty of angst

DCEU Canon

A/N: I’ve been meaning to write this one down for a while. It’s based on a dream I had but I just went and added details and a little bit of backstory. Nothing too crazy. This will probably just be a one shot. The top half is heavily edited while the second half I just spat out because I was inspired and I went with it. Hopefully it’s good. This is my first foray into something other than Marvel, so any feedback would be greatly appreciated. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Edit: I forgot to thank @babiiface95 @evansweaters and @sherrybaby14 for giving me some feedback on this! It helped tons!! xoxo

It hurts.

Everything hurts.

In this moment, all you can feel is the pain in your side.

You stumble forward, hitting the chestnut wood of your door hard. With nothing to brace yourself on, you slide along the length of it until you’re sitting, shoulder pressed against it.

“Ugh…” You groan, letting your hand trace the smooth grain until it can latch onto the handle. “Fuck this shit. I quit.”

You tell no one.

There hasn’t been anyone for months.

The door gives as you twist the knob sending you falling onto the small foyer of your apartment. You’re on the top floor, beside the penthouse. Your own place is small. Compact. Just three rooms, four if you count your bathroom.

You pull yourself along the dated ceramic tile and watch as you leave a smear of red behind you.

“Honey…” You begin, kicking the door shut while you stay flattered against the floor. “…I’m home.”

No one responds.

You exhale through your nose as annoyance rips through your chest.

“Fucker.” You say at no one, but obviously someone.

It takes every ounce of strength you have left to haul yourself into your bathroom. You peel off your suit, letting it drop to the floor in a whip of heavy fabric, space quality tech that was not fashioned on Earth but created for you.

To protect you.

Because he said he cared.

“Fucking…fucker.” You huff, yanking the first aid kit from the open shelf beneath your sink.

Your sports bra is drenched in sweat and blood, sticky against your skin as you plop yourself at the small kitchen table. You pull open the kit and reach for needle and thread.

It’s a messy stitch, clumsy and crooked from the angle you’re forced to work in. However sloppy, you do seal the wound to your ribs and the bleeding finally stops.

In your blood-soaked underwear, you make yourself a sandwich and stand at your counter, staring at the primary blue coffee cup sitting beside your own in teal.

You chew loudly, smacking your mouth as the bread sticks to the roof of your mouth. Eyes glaring at the cup, you bite down more fiercely. Tearing the food apart angrily.

“You’re a stupid bitch, Y/N. Get over it.” You sigh, then retreat to your bathroom to tidy up.

~~~~~~~~~~

Exhaustion is not your friend. It makes you cranky and irritable and sad because you can’t stand the silence in your home.

You groan, pressing your hand against your side gently, then reach for the remote and turn on the TV to war the silence.

It’s a cacophony of sound and for a moment, it grates your nerves. Some cartoon, loud and full of slapstick.

Next channel has people screaming at each other from opposite sides of a stage. Chairs begin to get thrown. A guy with a mullet takes off his shoe and chucks it at a man with one ear.

Next channel has an old black and white movie. The pretty woman with dark curls and a heart shaped face leans across a table, chin in her hand as she moons over the composed man who is smirking at her casually.

Nope. You think. No romance.

Next channel is the news.

“-sure what to make of what we’re seeing. It’s like nothing we have witnessed before. Veronica, can you tell us what’s happening?” The news anchor presses his hand to his ear, eyes squinted as he stares ahead.

The screen shifts and Veronica—a pretty woman with flowing red hair and deep blue eyes fills your screen.

“Miguel, it looks as if all of the ocean’s water is being pulled away from our coastline and out towards the ocean. Where the water is going, we aren’t sure. There is no way to know what this means or what can be causing it. And although we’ve seen this phenomenon happen in films, doomsday blockbusters where a tidal wave the height of a skyscraper builds up before the subsequent flood, experts are sure this is not at all what’s going on.

There are dozens of meteorologists, marine biologists, oceanographers, and astronomers still searching for the cause. The only thing that they all can agree on for certain is that the oceans are not withdrawing, but rather, they are draining, leaving sea life, coral reefs, and the ocean floor exposed.

“Something is pulling this water away. Whatever is causing this, is not natural.”

Sitting up, you place your elbows on your knees as the video changes to that of a helicopter shot as it circles the ever-decreasing ocean line. A humpback whale and her calf attempt to outswim the retreat, but they fail and as the water falls away, the creatures are beached between two sheer ocean cliffs.

“What the hell…” Reaching up, you cover your mouth, watching as the video moves back to Veronica.

“If we can’t figure out why the ocean is draining, we will have hundreds if not thousands of species left without chance of survival. This is not only a loss of a life for many endangered species, but also leaves us to face the consequences within our fishing industries and the millions of people it not only feeds but employs as well. If we cannot stop-”

Veronica suddenly stops speaking, holding her hand to her ear as she listens for a moment.

“Sorry, Miguel, it looks as if Doctor Rashda has found a source point for the draining. Doctor Rashda can you hear me?” Veronica asks, waiting for a moment before the video splits vertically.

The second frame of video sits empty, a sloping sandbank visible in the distance. It curves around in a semi-circle at the center of which is a growing swirl of dark blue water.

“Doctor Rashda?” Veronica asks again, her eyes frantic as they search a monitor out of view.

“Surrender.” A voice says, high pitched. Female. “Surrender and you will not suffer. Surrender your planet, and I shall make your end quick.”

Veronica is silent as the column of swirling water parts a little, just enough so that a pale face is visible.

“Surrender.” The voice says again, the pale face’s lips moving as it speaks. “And you will die quickly.”

Frowning, you move to the edge of your seat, your anger doubling.

“M-Miguel are you seeing this?” Veronica asks, voice small with fear.

Miguel doesn’t answer.

The figure in the water holds out its hand and from the swirl comes a smaller sphere. In this sphere something moves. As the camera zooms in, you can make out the distinct shape of a body, thrashing within its bubble.

Veronica screams just as you and everyone else that must be watching realizes that within the bubble is Doctor Rashda, struggling and gasping for breath.

You’re up on your feet, racing to pull your suit back on when a commotion pulls your eyes back to the TV, legs already in but with one shoulder exposed as you freeze mid-dress.

“He’s back!” Veronica is shouting gleefully. Relief and reverence painting her voice. “Superman is back!”

You move two steps closer to the TV, not intending to take the word of a panicked reporter. Until you can lay your own eyes on him then it isn’t real.

A few seconds pass. Then, a blur of blue and red streaks through the center of the bubble and when the water stops rippling, Doctor Rashda isn’t there.

“Motherfucker.”

You pull your suit on roughly, ignoring the way the movement tugs at your side as you zip up and launch out your open window.

You fall fast, plummeting towards the ground in a streak of teal and gray. When you’re only three feet away, you feel a surge of power as your arms, and legs burn with white hot energy.

It pushes you upwards and propels you higher and higher until you’re soaring across the sky at incredible speeds, leaving a silver trail of light behind you.

It only takes you minutes to reach the coast but sometime between you jumping out of your living room window and arriving here by the Golden Gate, the fight has moved cityside.

You hear a deafening crunch as blue and red goes slamming into black, gray, and brown ocean floor, disappearing into the subsequent rubble.

Heart pounding, you propel yourself towards a thin figure, long stringy black hair, sallow skin, arm still stretched out from her hit. She turns to look at you just as you reach her, but you throw your own fist out in a powerful uppercut. It throws the strange woman high into the air.

You follow for a few feet, hovering in there as you watch her skyrocket out of sight into dark clouds overhead.

Behind you the heap of ocean floor rubble begins to shift.

Coming to rest on the cliffside above, six feet below he breaks through the rock and it falls around him, a flurry of fine sediment saturating the air.

Chest heaving, side burning, heart clenched so tight you think it might truly be shredding, you watch as the fucker stands up and does a quick scan of the area looking just as perfect as he did when he left.

His eyes are focused, searching the sky for sight of his attacker but instead he finds you.

His eyes soften and you’re still so angry you glare. You turn on your heel and walk away, staring up at the sky as you wait for the woman to fall.

“Y/N…” You hear him say, but you don’t turn to look at him.

You can feel the swirling of wind as he flies up to you, the soft pats as his feet hit the ground. He circles around your right, leaning forward to get a better look at your face.

In your peripherals you can see the gentle curl of his dark hair, falling along his forehead and a hundred memories of your hand gently sweeping it aside make your body tremble.

The pleasure that the memory brings makes your blood boil and you roll your eyes, ignoring the puppy eyes he gives you.

“Let’s just get this over and done with. I’m tired.” You assert and watch as the strange woman careens towards the two of you, an inhuman screech growing louder as she falls.

Moving forward a few steps you aim yourself, bend your knees and launch yourself up towards her. As you collide, she grabs hold of your shoulders, and the two of you twist and spin in the air, struggling to get the upper hand.

Shifting quickly, you pull her over you, grab hold of her shirt front and with all the force in your body, you spin and chuck her down as Clark flies towards you to finish the job.

~~~~~~~~~~

A tattered white dress is all that remains of the ocean thief.

“Who was she?” Clark wonders, moving to stand beside you as you watch the stain of saltwater grow as her body dissolves to nothing.

“You don’t know?” You ask him, turning to look at him and hating how much it pleases you to finally see him again.

His broad body, thick with muscle and stupidly accentuated by his damn blue skintight suit, feels larger than before he left though you know that’s silly. He’s as God like as ever, though he’s only an alien. To the world, he’s a savior. Invincible.

Superman.

What really hurts to look at are his eyes.

It chokes you, those baby blues, full of unspoken questions and expectation. For you. For the future. For the present. He wants to know you again.

You tear your gaze back down to the woman as Clark shakes his head.

“No. I was flying home when I saw the ocean empty and followed the trail to the spout she was in.” Clark explains.

“Well, it’s too late to find out now.” You point out. “The water will come back soon. You’ll need to make sure people stay away from the coastline.”

Turning towards him, you wait, your rage evened out and layered with betrayal.

That painful gaze of his so piercing it nearly steals your breath away.

“Where were you, Clark?” You ask quietly, your anger outweighing the hurt.

The apologetic look he gives you, the tilt of his head, the step he takes towards you grates your nerves.

“Y/N-”

“It’s been months. Almost a year.” You sigh, unwilling to give in.

He takes your hand and the impulse to pull away nearly overwhelms you.

His hands are rough, only in that masculine way. His skin is unblemished. Perfect.

The strength of his movements are carefully calculated. A natural habit he’s developed after a lifetime of having to be gentle to keep from breaking those he touches. The heat from his hands is familiar and it envelops yours easily.

“I was coming home.” He tells you.

“Home? How do you know that it’s still your home? Maybe someone else has moved in.” You threaten and there’s a visible fall in his eyes.

It nearly breaks your icy exterior. But you have every right to be angry and hurt that he left you. Out of the blue, no word as to where he was going or when he’d come back.

“I have to go.” He’d said, and left you sitting on the couch, wondering when he’d come home.

He looks down at your hand in his, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand.

“You went to see her first, didn’t you?” You accuse and he quickly meets your gaze.

“No.” He assures you passionately, moving a little closer. “No, I was going straight home.”

“She’s been looking for you.” You tell him, tempted to confess how useless you’d been in those first few weeks he was gone. “All of them have been. Where is Superman? Is the million-dollar question. And now here you are.”

He’s back just as randomly as he’d left. Just as sudden. Just as quiet.

“There he is!” A familiar voice shouts. On the bank across the large ravine you both stand in Veronica appears looking dazzled and excited, her camera man hoisting up his camera to begin what will be the first clear footage of Superman finally back. Earth’s hero returned.

Quickly you pull your hand from his and turn to walk away.

“Where are you going?” He asks, following for a few steps.

“Home. I’ve been in Australia for the last month dismantling a new crime syndicate with Bruce. He and I are both very tired. He stayed behind.”

“Oh.” Clark says.

“Superman!” Someone calls. “Superman is back!”

Civilians have begun to gather along the empty waterway, all of them eager for a glance at the Man of Steel.

You know how you made it sound and maybe it’s your annoyance making you push him away now that he’s home, but all you can think about is getting back home and being alone.

“The water will be back, Kal.” You shift to his birthname with so many ears nearby. “Get these people away.”

You leave him standing there, watching you fly away, with those baby blues full of quiet yearning.

~~~~~~~~~~

The apartment…your home…it’s a void.

You sit on the arm of your sofa still in full uniform, hand gently resting on your thigh—palm up. You’re a mess again. Dirty with blood and dirt and sweat.

Needing a shower doesn’t do much to deter your silly brooding. Silly because you did this to yourself. You made it seem like you had someone new waiting for you here when really the bleak emptiness is in need of a six-foot, three-inch tall Kryptonian.

His presence is here. Loud and white hot. His coffee cup burns you from across the kitchen—asking where its owner is. His drawer still full of clothes. Comfy sweatshirts and crisp white t-shirts. Blues and grays and reds too.

There’s one you’d set aside. The last he’d worn. Only once. It had sat on the end of your bed night after night until you’d caved and pulled it on. Now it probably smells more like you than him.

The place is silent. Only the drip, drip, drip of the bathroom sink breaks the quiet.

Your gaze wanders to his shoes by the door, shoelaces left undone, a small speck of mud on the side of the left heel.

Shutting them, your eyes water.

No. You shake your head. I won’t cry.

You take a shaky breath and release it slowly, sighing as your body slumps forward.

The movement reminds you of your earlier wound and you gasp in pain as you sit up straight again, leaning to the side to look at the spot growing increasingly wet on your side.

“Shit.” Stitches are probably torn open. “Fuck.”

Maybe it’s your frustration with this whole situation or maybe your wound really just hurts a lot, but as you reach over to feel the bloody spot, your voice finally breaks. Though there are no tears, they really want to fall.

“Fucking, stupid, fucking…” You sigh again, this time faster, angry.

“That’s a lot of French.” Clark says, his voice smooth and even and excruciatingly beautiful to your ears.

You stand up, startled, and spin to watch him pull his left leg in through your open window, following his torso.

He’s still in his suit, cape and all. Once again, the sight of him reminds you of his Godlike status. His perfection unreachable and yet, here he is. In your home. Where he’d given himself to you openly and without reservation.

He stands there, his hands clenched into nervous fists. Skin just as dirty as yours but not sweaty. Not bloody. His hair is a little disheveled. The tresses normally so carefully tempered are free to curl and wave.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, voice still weak from your raw emotional outburst.

“I went to see Bruce.” He explains, and you might just kick yourself for implying Bruce would be waiting for you. “Why-?”

“Because I wanted to hurt you.” You admit, cutting him off before he can word the question. “Because I wanted you to regret leaving me the way you did.”

“I do regret it.” He sighs. “I-I only left because I thought I heard…”

He hesitates and you’re tempted to kick him out. You turn away from him and move into the kitchen, trying to ignore the wound that needs tending.

With your own coffee cup in hand, you pop a k-cup in your Keurig and punch the power button, waiting for it to power on before you select the largest cup option and listen to the whirr of the motors instead of Clark’s silence.

“I went to Krypton, or what’s left of it.” Clark finally says, this time from the mouth of your kitchen archway, hands still clamped tight.

You shut your eyes tight, hands clinging to the edge of your counter. Squeezing ever tighter until they begin to ache, and you still only keep squeezing.

“I wish I could be as impressed by that answer as I was the first time you told me that.” You shake your head.

“It was different this time, Y/N.” He shakes his head, then takes a step closer.

The movement draws your eyes and you watch the intense focus on his face, the uncertainty to speak.

“What is it?” You ask, still a little bitter.

Even though he looks as if he means it and this trip to Krypton is more serious, he’s not speaking. He’s keeping this from you. Holding it back.

“Jesus fucking Christ Clark, I guess you don’t trust me.”

“No.” He insists, moving another step closer which still leaves him a ways away from you in the kitchen. “It’s not that. I do trust you. More than anyone. But…”

You want to scream at him. You want to tell him to go to hell and to stay away from you and to shove his excuses up his ass, but your curiosity is growing.

There’s a small panic in his baby blue eyes. A fear.

So, you wait. You hold your tongue. You’re patient for now. You give him a familiar silence that tells him you will wait until he’s ready.

He recognizes it and meets your quizzical gaze as your coffee finishes brewing.

You don’t even realize it’s done as you stare into Clark’s eyes and he stares into yours.

The moment he decides, his shoulders relax. His jaw drops a fraction of an inch as he stops clenching his teeth.

As the weight on his shoulders is visibly lifted, you feel yourself relax too. Nearly a year of being without him and you’re still so attuned to his moods.

“I found someone.” He tells you. “On another planet, in a Kryptonian ship that had been sent only days after my own.”

“Another Kryptonian?” You ask, curious but also fearful.

You remember very clearly the last Kyrptonian that had come to Earth. Zod and his minions had torn Metropolis to shreds. They’d killed so many people and Clark had made the hardest decision in his life.

Not that you’d been there. She’d been there. But Clark had let you in on the weight of that moment. The choice that he hated to make but would gladly do so again.

He must see the fear in your eyes because he shakes his head and takes yet another step towards you.

“No. Don’t be scared. Really. She’s-”

She?!

“-she’s harmless.” You frown at him because that’s the stupidest fucking thing he’s said since getting back. Maybe the stupidest thing ever.

“Okay,” He amends. “Maybe not harmless, exactly. She’s my cousin, Y/N. And she needed help.”

“Your cousin?” You ask, voice low and full of questions.

“From what I can tell, she was sent here after me, but when her ship was knocked off course, she was trapped in form of hypersleep for a long time. She was older than me, but now she’s a lot younger.” Clark continues to explain, speaking with some gusto now that you’ve allowed him to pick up some momentum.

“Where is she?” You wonder.

“I left her with a family that can take care of her. Someone that I trust. Far away from me. She’s still very young and I think it would be best if she remained hidden for a while. Just until she learns how to control her abilities here on Earth and to give the world time to get used to the idea of another Kryptonian.” He takes one more step.

“After Zod, I don’t know that there is any amount of time that would prepare the world for a Supergirl.” You frown.

With your defenses lowered, Clark takes the opportunity to step even closer, finally stopping beside you.

He hesitates again, this time as he reaches to take hold of your elbow. His fingers press against your arm gently like he’s stroking piano keys. Testing to see if you’ll pull away.

You don’t.

He lifts your arm a little and doesn’t break eye contact with you until your arm is lifted enough that he can get a clear look at the red on your side. Head tilted to the right as he assess the injury.

Straightening his head, he slides his hand down to your hand, taking it before gently pulling you away from the kitchen, through your bedroom, and into your bathroom, switching on lights as he goes.

Watching him be like this has always been your favorite. He moves with a purpose, eyes trained on what he’s looking for without a glance spared your way.

You stand beside him as he holds your hand, hunched over to look under the sink for your first aid kit.

After he retrieves it, he pulls you back out into the kitchen. There’s more room there for both your bodies, especially with his taking up so much space.

He places the kit on the floor before he pulls you in front of him. Both of his hands find your waist and he lifts you up onto the edge of the counter to sit.

Slightly surprised, you gasp and place your hands on his shoulders, tracing the muscle while you can do so discreetly until you must remove them and place them at your sides.

Clark steps towards you, his hard abdomen pressed up against your legs as he wraps both arms around you, hands searching for the zipper on your back. Leaning over your shoulder to get a look at it, he’s almost hugging you.

And you can’t stand the tease of it.

The movement is quick, and he leans back again once he’s got the suit undone.

“What happened?” He asks as he hooks his thumbs into the top of your suit and pulls it down over your shoulders, your biceps—then holds the arms still as he waits for you to pull them out—then bunches it down along your waist to expose your injured side. “Lift your arm.”

You do as he ass, wincing as it tugs on the reopened cut.

“This is deep.” He disapproves.

“Bruce and I really were in Australia. One of the guys caught me with a knife just as we were getting them rounded up.” You explain.

“This is gonna hurt.” He tells you as he pulls the kit onto the counter beside you and pulls out a pair of small scissors and tweezers.

It takes him almost no time at all to snip away the broken threads and clean the wound again.

He waits, thinking for a moment, then meeting your gaze.

“Do you want something for the pain?” He checks, eyebrows raised in worry.

“Just do it, Clark.” You sigh, frustrated because this is all too familiar. This proximity, the smells, the heat, the way his hands poke and prod at the edges of your cut.

His eyebrows gather together as his jaw flexes with a frown, staring at the cut as he threads the needle quickly.

A proper needle this time, sanitized and threaded properly.

Taking your lifted arm, he pulls it over his head onto the opposite shoulder and places your hand there where his cape meets his suit.

“It’s gonna hurt.” He says again, and you realize he’s giving you something to squeeze.

And he’s right. Without the adrenaline from before, you feel every stitch and you’d thin you would get used to this sensation. But it hurts like fuck all and you squeeze his cape tight until you can’t help but give a small yell in annoyance.

“Why is it always the little wounds that hurt the most?” You sigh as he sips the thread and moves to clean his work area.

“You should go shower.” Clark says as he sanitizes the counter. “Be careful with your stitches.”

You don’t fight him on this because you desperately need another shower. Maybe if you’d been fine, you would have argued, but you’re dirty and aching.

When you emerge from the bathroom, you find that the sky outside has darkened. You dress quickly, just a pair of black old cutoff sweats and one of Clark’s gray hoodies.

You’re absolutely swimming in it, but it’s so soft and comfortable. Loose so that it doesn’t add any pressure to your stitches.

The apartment is so quiet you stand there, pulling the sweatshirt down as you listen intently for any kind of movement.

“Clark?” You call, just a little insecure after months of his absence.

You move out into the living room. The floorboards creak and moan as they settle beneath your feet. The large carpet in your living room silences your steps but you also stop walking, staring at the empty kitchen, then the empty living room.

Had you dreamt him?

Maybe he really isn’t back?

What if you’ve finally gone crazy?

What if he’s never coming back and you’d passed out after you got back from Australia and everything with the ocean had been a dream?

Are you really going nuts?

There’s a soft thud from your bedroom and with eager footsteps you rush back in.

Sitting on his side of the bed with his bare feet planted on the ground, Clark is hunched over. Elbows on his knees. Hands resting relaxed at the wrist while he stares at the floorboard underneath your bedroom window.

“Clark…” You sigh, not realizing how relieved you sound.

He’s changed, wearing a pair of gray sweats and a plain white t-shirt.

He looks good. Showered. His curls just barely damp.

“Am I welcome here?” He asks, staring ahead.

You move to the bed and climb on, walking on your knees towards him until you stop just a foot away and sit back on your legs.

It’s a good question. One you think on for a moment.

“You didn’t come back for ten months, Clark.” You sigh, hating that fact. “I didn’t know if something had happened to you or maybe you’d decided to leave me and Earth behind altogether? Mostly I just thought you were dead. I spent most of my time convincing myself that you’re so close to invincible that killing you might be impossible but-”

“I’ve died before.” Clark says, hating the idea that people think him a God. He turns towards you and frowns.

His words, however true they may be, send painful clenches into your chest.

Your face does something that makes his demeanor shift. Suddenly he’s sitting beside you, arm wrapped around your waist as he reaches up to push your hair back and away from your face.

His fingers graze the skin of your neck and he hooks it there, squeezing gently.

“I’m not dead.” He says, maybe guessing your thoughts of madness? “I’m right here.”

“But you weren’t.” You shake your head. “And I was so angry at you. I hated you. I cursed your name. Fuck that guy. Stupid fucker. I hate him.”

Clark simply watches you, his eyes moving side to side as he looks at your face and every expression that crosses your features.

The one thing that you’ve always loved about Clark, is the way that you can tell he’s really listening. Not once have you felt as if you weren’t being heard. Even if he doesn’t agree with whatever you’re saying, he listens so intently, trying to understand your point of view before he poses his own.

And you love him for it.

Shit. You still love him. Of course, you do. Of course, he’s always been yours.

Even in his absence, you were his and he was yours.

“I said that almost every night, hoping that you would hear me and come back. But you didn’t.”

“But I did.” Clark says. “I’m here. And I’m sorry I left without explanation. I’m sorry that I put you through that. And I know that you can’t forgive me for it. That I’ll be trying to earn your trust again every day that we’re together. But, please can I stay?”

He rubs your lower back, his large hand sending heat into every inch of your heart. Restarting it after he killed it ten months ago.

“Please?” He begs. “All I’ve thought about is getting back here. To you. To our home and our life together.”

You shut your eyes, relishing in the way his arms feel around you, his hands large and hot. His breath is sweet and warm. His scent is clean and so him that it makes your stomach flutter.

You won’t need that shirt of his anymore. Now you have him back, here with you. Where you can touch and feel and love and laugh and just be with him.

“Or should I leave?” He asks.

Your eyes pop open, red fury raging through them. “You do and I’ll hunt you down, Kent.”

He smiles, softly at first. But when your hand begins to trace the taut sinew of his muscly forearm, his smile grows wider. It grows and grows until it’s blinding and beautiful.

You trace the curve of his shoulder, tickle his neck before reaching up to smooth the curls that fall against his forehead gently.

He shuts his eyes, enjoying the affection before you push yourself forward between his legs and settle on your side.

You cuddle into the center of his chest, tucking yourself between his arms, head on his chest, under his chin, arms grabbing tight to the soft cotton of his shirt.

“I missed you.” He whispers against your hair.

You smile, shutting your eyes as you let yourself finally be at ease. Clark is home.

#superman x reader #superman x reader fanfiction #superman x you #superman x y/n #clark kent x reader #clark kent x you #clark kent x reader fanfiction #clark kent x y/n #dceu fanfiction #dceu #superman fanfiction #superman fanfic #superman fic #superman x reader fic #clark kent x reader fic #Absence Makes the Heart #shreddedparchment

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honeypirate · 3 years

Text

Looking Forward To It

In which pro hero Dynamight falls for his high school crush and personal suit designer and scientist, you, and asks you out.

Bakugou x reader (could be gn or fem but i didn’t edit it so i dont remember)

readers quirk works like welding but only works on metals, went to UA as a support student but took extra hero course classes so you could be a hero if any metal villians were to come along. Bakugou and you were friends after second year when you made him a really amazing support item and loved explosions as much as he does. you agreed with him that Lord Explosion Murder was an amazing hero name and that sealed your friendship forever.

Bakugou walks into the warehouse, a smile on his lips, he’s been looking forward to this meeting for several reasons, the biggest reason being you and the second being he is so excited to see what you have made. You were the student behind the design of his current hero suit and since you have grown up you became one the most well known designers and scientists. He has a small jar in his hand of his glycerin like liquid that you needed a little of, for a new idea, the meeting was just supposed to discuss your thoughts and share with him your ideas.

The warehouse was set up with a small office in the front, followed by a few meeting rooms, a public bathroom, and the biggest part being your “office” but it was more like just a work floor for you and your employees to have enough space. There was also an armored testing room and a room in the back where you could sleep that had a full bathroom with a shower.

“She’s in the back Dynamight you can go on in” your receptionist says with a smile and he thanks her before heading back into your office/work area.

As he is making his way back to you he hears a small ecplosion followed by your frustrated voice echoing down to him “Mother fucking bitch! God damn it all! That was not my plan! Mother hell!” he chuckles as he pushes the half cracked door open all the way “Y/N?” he says and you laugh, a sound that makes him smile and brings butterflies to his stomach, followed by your voice “back here!” he walks farther into the room, bast the many tall shelves lined with several different ingredients and different power tools all organized specifically by color, followed by several bins with different metals, he can see your back as you sit at a metal table, a few lights around you and smoke still in the air. As he gets closer he can see the tools around you, things that he didn't even recognize, tools you once told him you designed, and things that look like metal capsules. You hop off your stool and turn towards him “right on time!” you exclaim with a blinding smile that makes his heart skip, you throw your arms around his neck and he chuckles as he hugs you back. When you pull away you pull the dark goggles off the top of your head and set them down on the table. “You bring it?” he nods “of course! I’m excited to see what you have for me” he says and you squeal ''I am too!” you hold out your hand and he places the jar in it.

You stand next to the table and he stands besides you, “watch this” you say with a smile as you put a metal dropper into the golden liquid in the small jar and get out .5 of an ounce before placing it into a small metal capsule, placing a special lid on and sealing the edge with your quirk. “This is kind of dumb becasue you wont use them very often if at all. But this topper makes it so this will explode on impact and then suck everything back to that space like an implosion. And this top” you hold up a different unconnected piece “is a timer. So its a real bomb!” you say excitedly and he chuckles, your happiness rubbing off on him. “That is really cool I must say. Even if i don't use it often it is a cool option to have” you grin “i'm glad you think so. I felt kind of dumb but i still wanted to try. Do you want to see this?” you hold up the capsule you just made and he laughs “of course!” you bounce on your toes in a little dance as you take off your leather apron and set it on the desk “okay follow me!” he laughs and follows you out the door off the side of your office, into teating room you made specifically to test Bakugous support items.

“Okay okay okay you know where to stand” he laughs, he loved your energy and your mind, he stood where you wanted him, behind a very thick piece of plastic so he could see into the other side of the room, you squeal again with glee and walk into the other side of the plastic, you kiss the little capsule and then toss it to the other side of the room, moving over quickly next to Bakugou as it sails through the air before it hits the other side of the wall and explodes before sucking everything back to the middle point of impact exactly like you hoped it would. “Yes!” you exclaim and raise your hands in the air, turning towards him and hopping up and down. “That was amazing y/n!” he laughs and you blush at the way he was looking at you. “I know it isn’t super practical but at the right time it would be fun to use!” you tuck your hair behind your ear and then gasp, bringing your hands out in front of you “I didn't realize i was so dirty” you chuckle, realizing some must be on your face but you didn’t really care.

“Yeah just a little but that’s how i know you’re making super amazing things!” he gushes and then blushes, clearing his throat “you said you have something for me?” you beam at him “that’s right! Come with me it’s just inside” he follows you back to your office and you quickly run and grab a box from under your desk, “I know you are a huge fan of your black, green, and orange, color scheme. But I made some improvements to stitching and flexibility, with a better flame resistant formula that actually keeps you cool as you wear it. I also wanted to try a semi different color scheme so just tell me if you hate it and I'll make it just the same as your others. But i was thinking since it’s fall and going to be winter,” you pull out a new suit, identical to the last save a few details, the orange bands were thinner and lighter, and now they were a darker blood orange. The black was even more black, a higher percentage of light being lost than the other black (thank you stuart semple) and the green being a darker green as well, more foresty and less tree frog. “I thought the darker colors would look AMAZING when it snows and the orange is more fall. There are even several hidden pockets that make whatever is inside them indestructible, so your phone, wallet, whatever will be safe no matter what” He takes the suit from you with a smile “y/n this is …. Perfect!” you laugh “really?!” he nods “i love the new colors it’s perfect for winter and i love the pockets. Im gonna go change in your bathroom” and before you can stop him he is off into your private bathroom in the back of the office.

You hop on your stool and begin making more of the little capsules, just three more with the amount of his Nitroglycerin substance. You place them in the box and then work on some other personal project of something you were making for your moms birthday.

When he comes back he walks quietly since he was behind you “tell me what you think” he says and you grin, setting down your tools you turn around and gasp with a smile “it is so much better than i imagined. Is it too tight? How is the fabric? Is it itchy?” you hop off your stool and make your way over to him while you talk, reaching out and running your hands across his chest to feel how it fits, running your hands across the straps to make sure they fit him well, as he begins to speak you walk around to his back side “n-no it’s all great. R-really” you run your hands across the fabric on the back, the tank like top on his shoulders sat well, you stuck your fingers inside the fabric by his shoulders, pulling it back a little and running your fingers along the inside seam, down until you get to his armpits.

What you didn’t know was how hard his heart was beating, you always got into the headspace of an inventor every time you gave him something new, not noticing the effect you had on him, how his heartbeat grows rapid and his hands get really sweaty, filling up his gauntlets. You never noticed how he blushed or how his voice stuttered through answers to the questions you ask. You check the way his belt fits on his hips and he gets goosebumps that you, you guessed it, didn’t even notice.

“It looks so good. I'm so proud of myself!” you giggle as you walk back to the box on your table, your back to him again now, he takes a deep breath and tries to calm his heart. “I have improved your gauntlets as well, the color and the weight, they can also hold double the amount now so since you wear them all day you won't waste any. Also here is a new head piece, it’s built in with bluetooth so you can connect it to your phone and it will perform voice commands, you can set the word that wakes it up through an app i made that i already emailed you.” he chuckles “always going above and beyond. That’s why you're my favorite” your heart skips and your cheeks flush as he comes over, swapping out his gauntlets and head piece for the new ones, he places his old gear in the box and smiles at you. “I’m glad I can make you happy yet again” you say and smile at him, thinking about all the other ways you wish you could make him happy

Since you didn’t have anything else for him, it was time for him to leave. You hated this time because it always comes too soon, you walk him out to the door and your receptionist sends you an obvious look before she excuses herself to the bathroom. “So i’ll.. uh.. text you if i have anything new for you” you say with an awkward chuckle, scratching the back of your neck before placing your hands behind your back, rocking on your feet “sound’s good” he says with a smile and you heart skips again, your cheeks feel warm as you return his smile. “Okay then” you say and he goes to push the door open “I’ll see you around.” he pauses for a second and then turns back “do you wanna get dinner with me maybe? As a date?” he asks, rather quickly actually, all of it out in a rush, his nervousness showing. You gasp before chuckling softly “I’d love that” you say with a closed eye smile and he lets out a breathy, nervous laugh. “Okay. cool. I knew you’d say yes (he didn’t. He thought you were definitely going to say no). I’ll call you after work then” he says, a blush covering his cheeks, you beam at him and then say “I’ll be looking forward to it”

#mha #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha katsuki #bakugou katsuki fanfiction #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo fanfiction #katsuki x y/n #Katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki imagine

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starculler · 3 years

Text

Based this on the cool ROTS concept art where Padmé goes to Mustafar intending to kill Anakin and some good old Padmé Lives AU goodness. @flashfictionfridayofficial

Padmé’s hands clenched around the smooth, stone banister — cold and rough under her palms — and stared at the still, star-studded stretch of lake Varykino’s terrace overlooked. Her eyes burned as she soaked in the beauty this small part of her home planet had to offer, but there were no more tears left to shed. There was only the hollow ache left behind her ribs, a staggering pain to rival the vivid, throbbing, blue-black bruises around her throat. The last gift her husband had left her.

She sighed, breathed in, and tried to imagine the taste of Naboo’s sweet, summer air instead of the thick coat of ash that had laid on her tongue since Mustafar. Her fingers curled around the bannister’s stone edge, already ruined nails grating on the texture even as she felt them wrapped around the hilt of the knife she’d held to her husband’s throat. The moment was clear as a holo, imprinted on the backs of her eyelids for her to see every time she’d closed her eyes since waking those few, too-long days ago.

Her arms around Anakin’s neck, pulling him down into a hug she’d shared with him a thousand times before. The sleeves of her red robe bunched around her elbows, its hood tugging at her loose hair as it fell back enough that she could see his face clearly. His thinned lips and a too-familiar pinch in his brow, sweaty and pale with too-dark rings under his eyes. He’d pulled her close, his hands finding the curve of her waist even through the voluminous fabric, and she’d curled her fingers into his curls with one hand as the other slipped the knife free. Anakin’s eyes had always been such a beautiful, bright blue, even shadowed and haunted and lit with the glow of Mustafar’s churning flows of bubbling lava.

“My lady.” Padmé blinked, dragged out of the memory by Sabé’s quiet voice, and turned to find her last handmaiden standing in the shadow of an elegantly carved column. “The preparations are complete.”

“They’re—” Padmé started only to choke on the words, but Sabé nodded regardless.

“They’re safe,” Sabé said, so softly that Padmé had to step closer to hear her better. “There’s been no reason to suspect they’ve been found or followed,” she added and Padmé could have collapsed from relief.

“Good. That’s good.”

It burned to be separated from her children no matter how much she’d agreed with Obi-Wan and Bail that keeping them together — keeping them with her — was dangerous. She breathed in, ignoring the slight hitch in an otherwise smooth breath, and curled her hands into tight fists on the exhale. When her eyes met Sabé’s again, there hadn’t been any need for her to so much as open her mouth to ask her next question.

“Your funeral went as well as a televised, closed-casket event could. You’ve been laid to rest in Theed with a simple, but elegant memorial to mark your tomb, and your former handmaidens have, respectfully, secluded themselves to mourn you.”

“How are they taking it?” Padmé asked, unable to resist, and felt the guilt rise like bile in her aching throat when Sabé winced.

“They—” she started, stopped, and Padmé watched Sabé clasp her hands together in front of her to keep her hands from shaking. Silence settled thick between them, heavy and uncomfortable, until Sabé settled on a shaky “They’ll understand. Less so, however,” she added, forcefully lightening her tone, “if you’re caught here.”

Padmé swallowed, stomach churning, and nodded. She let her eyes slide closed once more — watched herself hesitate on Mustafar, the knife’s edge pressing on her husband’s throat, knowing as she’d looked in his eyes that she didn’t have the strength to kill him — and breathed in, long and slow. When she opened them, there was only Naboo, Sabé, and the faint impression of the many small moments she’d stolen there with the people she loved.

“Give Captain Typho my thanks,” she said as she strode forward, Sabé falling neatly into step just behind and to her left. “He didn’t have to do this. Any of it.” She turned her head enough to meet Sabé’s eyes, shoving every ounce of gratitude she could muster at her. “Neither of you did.”

Sabé’s lips curled up in the small, familiar smile she always wore to express her fond exasperation, though it was marred now by the worried furrow in her brow and the uncharacteristic shadows under her eyes. She didn’t dignify Padmé’s sentiment with a response beyond a nod and a roll of her eyes that made Padmé wish she’d had the energy left in her to laugh. To pretend, for one moment, that this was just one of many a stroll the pair had taken through the villa.

The time for such silly sentiments, however, was long passed, and the pair wasted no time hurrying through the dark, unlit halls to the hangar with only Sabé’s lamp to light the way. The hangar, when they arrived, was lit with only a few stray lights and empty save for a pair of spare speeders and the single, old ship meant to smuggle Padmé and its pilot off-planet.

Sabé walked her to its ramp, both hesitating to take the final step that would, possibly permanently, separate them. There was so much still that Padmé wanted to say, but every word died on her lips — none of them enough. She managed only a watery “Be safe” when Sabé sprang forward to wrap her in a tight, clinging hug.

“I should be telling you that,” Sabé said, laughing even as a few stray tears wet Padmé’s shoulder.

“Sabé, I—” Padmé stopped, frowned, and pulled away just far enough to meet her former handmaiden’s eyes. “I have one more favor to ask.”

“Anything.”

Padmé closed her eyes, saw her husband and the burning landscape and the footage of the Temple no-one knew she’d managed to get her hands on after everything was done and her children were gone and all she’d had between then and now was time. When she opened her eyes, when she made her request, it was every inch Amidala — Queen and Senator — who spoke.

“Burn it,” she said, voice even and smooth even as the shift in tone startled Sabé. “When” — not if, because monster or not, she knew her husband almost better than she knew herself — “he comes, burn this place to the ground.”

#padme amidala #padme lives au #sw rots #star wars #flash fiction friday #fff103 #my fanfic #this is def an idea i'd play around with more #it's interesting to me and i just love padme soooo

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smilingleoo · 4 years

Text

Seokjin Drabble-He cheats on you and the regrets it

Request: Hello love! Can i have broke up series with jin? Maybe it's only 3 parts or 5. Like he's cheating and then regret it 😊😊 i love your writings :33

Author’s Note: Hello! Sorry but I can’t turn it into more than one chapter because I have a lot of other requests, hope you can understand :) I’m also really sorry for the amount of time I’m taking to actually write but K’ve been dealing with some stuff and I have little-to-none time! Well, having said that...enjoy!!!

————

“This is wrong”-Seokjin though as he unclaspped another woman’s bra skillfully. He dragged his full lips through the bare skin of her long neck, planting tender kisses as if she was his lover. But she was not because he already had a partner waiting expectantly for him to arrive home. He was selfishly abusing your undeniable trust by sleeping with other people and was not even feeling an ounce of guilt-“And I know this is wrong”

The woman slid out of his reach and started unbottoning Jin’s pants, her lustful stare conquering every inch of his desire. He sighed and encouraged her with a slight groan when she reached the fabric of his underwear, teasing him while caressing his crotch through the damp cloth.

It for sure was wrong, but he loved every moment of his sin.

()

“Oh, baby”-you exclaimed happily through the kitchen-“You’re already up! I was just making some breakfast...If you can wait for two more minutes, it’ll be done and we can eat together”

“Sorry, I have to go now”-he spoke grabbing an apple from the counter and dashing out of the room. You followed him with your stare, slightly annoyed by his rudeness. You had noticed his strange demanour ever since he came back from the studio three days ago. He had come not only exhausted, which you concluded it was from practice, but also extremely absentminded and distant. The days after were cold too; his morning kisses were gone and the long, lovely messages that would pop on your phone’s screen disappeared.

The longing in your heart was stronger than any thought invading your mind. It was tough having a boyfriend who didn’t even show you love. Did he have any left for you? You weren’t sure anymore.

The day went on as usual, you worked the most part of it. However, you still returned home earlier than Seokjin, which was normal. You left your things on the little shelf stuck on the entrance wall and directed yourself to the bedroom, changing into some comfortable clothes before grabbing your phone and plopping yourself on the couch.

You scrolled through social media for nearly an hour and started to get worried when you didn’t receive any messages from your boyfriend. Although he had been distant for a while now, he never failed to text you if he couldn’t make it for dinner. Worriedly, you searched for Namjoon’s number and dialed the leader with no hesitation.

“Hi, Y/N!”-he greeted you. Namjoon loved you dearly and you cared for him equally. He was extremely happy that his best friend had actually found such an incredible partner to be by his side. Therefore, when you explained why you had called, his frown came as quick as lightning-“He excused himself earlier than usual because he said he had an anniversary date with you”

You had fallen silent.

“Y/N?”

“I’ll call you later”-you struggled to keep your breathing steady-“Thanks for the help, Joon”

“Y/N, wait-”-but you had already ended the call.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as uncertainly conquered your chest, wrenching every inch of space for air to come into your lungs. Your world started trembling and you clutched your shirt for any kind of support. Breathing became impossible and, out of anger as well as disappointment, you had plummeted on the floor struggling to move your body from its sitting position against the wall.

He couldn’t be cheating on you, right?

Your trembling fingers tapped on his contact name and the signature beeping of the call deafened you. One time, two times, three times-you counted every annoying sound the device made. You waited patiently, even though you had ran out of it a long time ago, closing your eyes in the meantime. It stung, everything burnt and ached inside you. Your heart was broken, your energy was drained and your head spinned when suddenly someonepicked up the phone.

“Hello?”-a woman’s groggy voice mumbled through the phone.

“I-Is Kim Seokjin there?”-his name tasted like venom in your mouth. She hummed affirmatively and then shuffling noises were heard, until his soothing voice rung-“Who am I talking to?”

“Don’t even bother coming back home”-you screamed. Everything you had done for him, all the things, opportunities and dreams you had postpone just so you could be with him a little longer. All your support, all your trust, all your love were made out of the most fragile paper and he had burnt them all with just a single flame; lust-“I’ll pack your things and put them outside. I want them gone by tomorrow.”

“Y/N, please! Let me explain...”-he begged.

“Oh! Now you want to talk, Seokjin?”-you laughed-“Now you want to discuss things because you’ve been caught? Save your words for your new woman’s dirty talk, babe. Maybe they’ll be of better use”

And you ended the call.

()

“Aren’t you going to talk to me, Namjoon?”-Seokjin questioned as his friend shook his head disapprovingly-“I cheated on Y/N, not you!”

“They’re my best friend too, Seokjin!”-he screamed-“They didn’t deserve it and you know it! But you are so damn arrogant that you won’t admit it, will you? God, they gave you everything and you just had to mess things up? Why couldn’t you just break up?”

Seokjin didn’t answer. Truthfully, he had been scared. He knew how wonderful you were, how much you would give and do for him. He could say he had taken advantage of such blind love, such trust. But he would be lying for he, in fact, feared the mere though of being alone. He couldn’t think about the what if’s and his future without a partner he could come home to. Maybe he wasn’t in love with you anymore yet he was enamored with what a romantic relationship had to offer him-“Bacause I couldn’t let her go”

“You sound like a psychopath”-Namjoon said.

“Maybe I am”-Seokjin sighed, sitting down while ruffling his hair. Namjoon, reluctantly, took the free spot besides him and snuggled further into the couch’s comfort-“I hate losing her, Namjoon”

“At least you regret it...”-the leader mumbled-“I know it won’t solve things but maybe leave them a message? I guess that would make you less of an asshole”

“Thanks for the support”-Seokjin tolled his eyes.

“Oh, you know you deserve that and more”-Namjoon snickered before pushing himself off the couch and out of the room.

“Yeah, I kind of do”

()

Even though he was the one who ruined the relationship in the first place, Seokjin couldn’t help but feel lost without you in his life. He would get home from a day packed with work, hoping he could eat a homemade dinner prepared by you, only to meet an empty table and cold takeaway in the fridge.

Classy.

He put himself through this life, though. Seokjin knew what he was doing when he decided to sleep with other people. He was fully aware of his mistake and, therefore, consequence but he chose to ignore them for the mere pleasure those actions implied.

He hadn’t seen you since you left. He thought you had changed your life’s course, opting to do things that maybe you couldn’t have done if you stayed with him. Did he feel happy about it? Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t...he wasn’t sure about it.

“Seokjin-ah!”-Hoseok called out-“Are you paying attention?”

The choreography wasn’t even that hard yet Seokjin couldn’t manage to get a single step right. Namjoon, noticing his friend’s poor performance, decided to call for a brief water-break. When everyone went to look for their stuff, Namjoon approached Seokjin and asked-“What’s happening?”

“I don’t know”-Seokjin answered. The eldest sighed, annoyed with himself and his unforgiving emotions, and drink a long sip from his water bottle-“I sometimes wish I hadn’t cheated on them, Namjoon”

“But you don’t miss them, specifically”-the leader explained-“You missed what they did for you...”

But Seokjin wasn’t sure anymore.

You had stuck around with the group, since you had a built a strong bond with most of them. You brought meals, snacks and even pampered Jungkook with those delicious banana milk you specially bought just for him. Saying he was slightly jealous was lessening the whole ordeal. Seokjin’s anger was boiling.

Worst of it all, you seems totally unfazed by his presence. You would Emeterio the room, smile to everyone-even him, the piece of shit who treated you like trash-and continue on with your tasks. Continue on with your life...a life withou him.

“Y/N, you remembered!”-Hoseok smiled as he hugged you from the side. You giggled, which was the most comforting sound Seokjin had heard, and proceeded to send a quick message on you phone. Hoseok’s phone pinged and, out of curiosity, everyone peaked their head forward-“She made a Tik Tok promoting my new mixtape”

“Yeah, I’m not the best dancer”-she scratched the back of her neck-“But I can nail some easy moves!”

“Are you kidding? This is awesome!”-Jungkook vibes with the catchy song as his eyes lit up while your body swayed. Taehyung agreed with a concentrated nod, scanning the screen of the youngest’s phone. Jimin winced at a drastic hip rol and Seokjin frowned because it was his ex-partner they were ogling at-“Those hops are smooth, Y/N! Maybe you should teach us how to loosen up”

“Don’t get too excited kiddo, they’re my-”

“I’d love to!”-you exclaimed, glancing Seokjin’s for a brief second. He immediately understood his mistake and decided to exit the room, resting his back on the cold wall. He needed to stop thinking about you and your stupid ways of making his heart smile. Otherwise, it would be absolutely impossible to forgive himself for cheating on you.

“Seokjin?”-your sweet voice called for him. He automatically titled his head to hear you better, coming face-to-gave with your delicate features he had missed so much. He had come to adore how your gaze soften up with every single caress of someone’s whispers. However, this time, your cold-stone stare pierced his every sense. He backed away slightly-“I just wanted to make something clear”

His eyebrows shot upwards-“I’m still hurt, you know. What you did broke me, entirely. I’m pretty sure you don’t see it that way but it was extremely painful. I’m not trying to play the victim here, though. Everyday I wake and ask myself if I’m even good enough to go outside since the only person I’d fully trusted changed me from some sex. But I keep going and I’m still here, facing you. Facing what caused me so much damage. And you? You’re trying to act as if things were still like before. You’re selfish, Seokjin. You’re a beautiful guy, believe me, and I’m really in live with you but you’re just too into your own feelings. You keep on missing me, I notice, but have you ever asked yourself if I missed you? If I was okay?”

He bit his lip.

“I guess not”-you sighed-“Goodbye, Seokjin”

And as you walked down the hallway, unforgettable perfume tinting the air between both of you, Seokjin never felt so utterly lost.

“Goodbye, Y/N”

#bts #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts army #bts seokjin #kim seokjin x you #kim seokjin x reader #seokjin angst #seokjin imagine #jin x y/n #jin x you #jin imagines #jin x reader #bts jin #bts angst #bts drabble

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bearseokie · 4 years

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wc: 1k ; angst, fluff ; pairing: stripper! best friend! hyunwoo x gender-neutral reader ; [warnings]: built up emotions from reasoning finally comes to light!

| m.list | [12:38] | [4:42] | [5:39] | [12:27] | [2:00] |

[2:00 a.m] - Footsteps heavy in the hallway, you were sitting up on your mattress staring out the window when you first heard him walk by. A habit he gathered over time, Hyunwoo paced by your apartment twice, your eyes trailing the shadow of his shoes from underneath the door.

You knew he was hyper aware of his decision to walk away from you at the club, leaving you at the back of the building with rain lightly drizzling onto the pavement. It was his energy through the door reading to you that he regretted what he did, but it was his hesitation to put his key into the knob and turn it that riddled you with confusion. He was always straightforward, never prancing around what he was trying to say, but when your feet hit the mat at your front door, you understood.

His sobs were loud through the frame, the lock bolted through the door and wall turning as you pulled the door open. Stood with his face in his hands, Hyunwoo was openly expressing his emotions for the first time without an ounce of embarrassment.

“Hey.” you said softly, stepping out of your apartment to place your hand on his arm.

His fingers pressed over his eyes, the pads of each digit smudging the last of his makeup from his work as he blinked down at you. Misery in his irises, the tears still falling down his face faded into his cheeks. You could feel the cold temperature from outside still held within the fabric of his sweatshirt, a pout on your lips as you tugged him to follow you into your apartment.

“Hyunwoo, why are you doing this?” you asked him slowly, smelling his cologne as he brushed past you into the warm, single-room space.

His body fell down onto the cushions of your sofa, the furniture rocking back against the wall from the full weight of his tired body. Expression weak, exhausted, you had to fight yourself from sitting on his lap, hugging your arms around his neck and telling him everything would be okay like you usually did. Now was entirely different.

The mascara and eyeliner running past his eye sockets gave him the impression that he was ill, his bloodshot eyes and shivering body making you leap to cover him with a blanket. Deplored, he sat his chin into his palm, curved back rising and falling like his chest as he took deep breaths, collecting himself enough to speak.

“I never intended for it to go this way. You know that.” he swallowed harshly, a pain in your chest at his broken voice making you lean back against the cold wall.

“I know.” your shallow voice made him nod, nostrils flaring as another breath seeped into his lungs.

The formation of your relationship had bounced for twenty-four hours straight. Both of you were going in the same direction before venturing off separate ways, managing to collide with one another in a hard, force-filled stop. Hyunwoo was masking his work over the situation, something you noticed when he mentioned that he had gone in for an early practice. The claim had caught you off guard, his reason behind leaving you before you woke now translucent, he wanted to clear his own head. You wanted to pretend that everything that he expressed didn’t mean as much to you as it did, but the way his voice would echo in your mind, calm you at your worst, meant that the latch between you and Hyunwoo wasn’t meant to be undone so simply.

“But I love you -” he began. “- too much to just walk away from you as I did.”

“So tell me why you did, then.”

His eyes went dark, fingers running through the thick locks of his hair. He was wavering, attempting to bring the reason for his actions to a head, but he still wore a hard shell from the topic.

“I meant what I said earlier, about how my occupation shouldn’t involve me having a partner. Especially not one that means so much to me.” he clenched his teeth, closing his eyes. In a mental battle you weren’t aware of, he had spiked his own emotions as more tears threatened to breach his ducts.

“I understand that, though, Hyunwoo.”

“No.” his voice rose suddenly, slipping the blanket off his lower body to rise from the couch and stand before you. “I just-” he hissed. “I know you do, but it’s the other factors involved that makes me consider so much before us having a relationship.”

“Like what?” you yelled. His claims were becoming upsetting, especially since he wasn’t telling them to you. His feelings were so wildly intense that he had to hold it over your head, the tall form of the man in front of you becoming intimidating.

“I see the way you look at me. How you react when I come home, here. The way you hesitate to hug me because I smell like someone else.” His words made you falter, face falling and eyes drifting from his face to the floor. “I notice.”

The tears broke free a second time, running down his face and past the dried makeup until they reached his jawline, dripping onto his shirt.

“It makes you so uncomfortable. I know it does, even if you tell me it doesn’t. I know my job makes you uncomfortable. Most of it.”

He had taken in account every pout or alternating eye contact you expressed, the pained look on his face almost the exact same one you would send towards him when he would arrive at your apartment early in the morning to spend time with you, relaxing before the sun rose. He knew your mind was always racing, trying to push the words to the tip of your tongue for you to say what he said now, but your own tears falling from your eyes in real time burrowed any dismay he could possibly feel towards you.

“It’s not me dancing at the club that makes you upset. It’s me going home with strangers.” His lips parted to exhale the sentence, brown eyes glowing in the faint moonlight. “I’m not unlovable. I just want one type of love. One that includes you, but I can’t ask for you to be by my side if you are bothered by the things I've done trying to fill the hole in my heart.”

“Then let me be the last one to ever fill it, Hyunwoo.”

#monsta x #monsta x fic #son hyunwoo #shownu #shonwu imagines #shownu scenarios #monsta x drabble #monsta x imagines #monsta x scenarios #monsta x shownu #fic: vain #monsta x angst #shownu angst #shownu fluff #monsta x fluff #shownu fic #monstax.series

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myhockeyworld87 · 4 years

Text

Not So Dangerous Liaison - Sidney Crosby - Part 2

Word Count: 3,430

POV: Sidney’s

Warnings: Adult Language

Notes: Here’s part 2 in the Crosby saga. Thanks to everyone who read it and sent in encouraging words. Glad you all enjoyed it. More to come soon!

It seemed like a decent plan, avoid (Y/N) at all costs; though it proved to be harder than you anticipated. You walked into the practice arena, early as usual, and there she was, all bright-eyed and smiling. She was standing there on her cell scrolling through something. It was hard to take your eyes off her as she was wearing a cute pair of leggings with a jacket all the coaches wore, though she had sneakers on instead of skates. The sides of her hair were pulled backed, but her long waves flowed over her shoulders and your fingers itched to touch it and find out if it was as soft as it looked. Shaking yourself, you looked away to regain some composure, and that's when she saw you.

"Hey, Sid." Her smile was as bright as the sun and part of you wondered why she didn't hate you after that first night.

"Hi (Y/N), you're here early."

"Yeah, I didn't think it would make a very good impression to be late on the first day." She was bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, obviously full of excitement. It was both adorable and somewhat contagious. "Speaking of which, do you have that paper from yesterday?"

Shit! You'd honestly tried to fill it out last night, though every single time you looked at it; you thought of the way she looked standing in the film room, or how her eye sparkled just like they were now. "Uh…well umm."

"Don't worry, you can always bring it to me tonight?" You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, not at the comment, but the fact that you'd be seeing her every day until the end of the season.

"Yeah, I'll do that." Somehow you didn't want the conversation to end just yet, so you found yourself saying, "So how do you like things so far?"

"Well, it's still early, considering I think I've only technically been on the clock for like thirty minutes." She giggled and you found yourself smiling at the sound. "But so far so good. I really think it's going to be a lot of fun." Fun for her maybe, because right now you were in sheer torture, just being in her presence.

"Ah…that's good, really good." You adjusted the rim of your hat, before adding. "Well you know if you need anything you can always call me." Ugh, why had you just said that? You were willingly volunteering yourself to help her out, that was anything but avoiding her like you originally planned.

"Awe, thanks, Sid. I really appreciate that."

You stood there for a full minute not knowing what to do or say before you heard someone come up behind you. "Wow, Sid, you're not on the ice yet?" It was Flower's teasing voice that caught both yours and (Y/N)'s attention, and he was right, by the time he usually showed up, you'd normally done a few warmup laps.

"Oh wow, I'm sorry Sid. I didn't mean to keep you." (Y/N) was really too sweet and part of you hated to see the interlude end, but Flower's words reminded you that she was nothing but a distraction.

"You didn't...I mean I'm just as much at fault."

"Here's my form (Y/N), I may not have been the first one turning it in," Flower said while nudging you. "But I at least hope I get an A for punctuality."

"Well, you just so happen to be the first, so I'll give you an A+." She said with a cute little wink to the goalie. Suddenly, you were wishing you'd done that paper last night.

"Woah, you mean to tell me I beat Mr. Perfect here. Where's your head at man?" It would be wrong to say daydreaming of the woman in front of you; so you just shrugged and headed off to the locker room.

You were just finishing lacing your skates when Marc-Andre entered, having finished his chat with (Y/N). "You've got it bad; don't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Come on man, don't play dumb with me. I know all the signs." He was shoving his bag in his cubby and throwing on his equipment. "Stupid ass grin on your face. Fair off look. Do you want me to continue?" You rolled your eyes at him while making a pfting noise. "You can't fool me. I know you like (Y/N). But what I want to know is why didn't you call her at the start of the season?"

There was no way you could lie to one of your best friends, he'd see right through you. It was just easier, to tell the truth. "She's too much of a distraction man. I just need to focus on hockey. Besides, playoffs start in a little over a week."

"Well, you should've got her out of your system before now, because we are going to be seeing a lot of her from here on out." Flower was right, you were definitely going to be seeing a lot more of (Y/N), and since avoidance didn't seem to be working; you were definitely going to need a new plan.

You blew out a long breath. "Any ideas what I can do?"

"Hmmm…if it was me; I'd channel that energy into hockey." If it was only that easy. "Skate a little faster or hit the puck a little harder when you think of her." Well, it was an option, and hopefully, it was one that would work.

"It's worth a try." Thankfully, when you headed back out to the rink (Y/N) was nowhere in sight, which made focusing on hockey a bit easier. She appeared about midway through practice and instead of concentrating on her, you did exactly as Flower said. What was surprising, was that it seemed to work. Your passes were a little crisper, and pucks seemed to find an easy way into the net, maybe this wasn't going to be so bad.

Well until you were running the last drill and saw her talking to Beau again. It took every ounce of will power, not to break your stick in two. It seemed like every time there was a get-together, Beau was always by her side. It grated on your nerves and you found yourself, attacking the puck with a bit more force than normal. By the time practice was over, she was again gone, to your relief. There were only four more games left in the regular season, and the last home game was tonight. You kept telling yourself if you could just make it through this initial period of adjustment, you'd be fine since playoffs would literally consume all your time.

It was about five hours later that you were rethinking things again. Of course, she was at the arena when you arrived, only this time she wasn't sporting her cute active look. Dressed in a short black skirt and matching jacket, she belted the outfit to accentuate her curves. She either had on a black lace cami underneath or black lace bra, whichever it was it had you dying to see what lay underneath the fabric. A pair of black heels showed over her legs to perfection as she walked down the hallway, looking more like she was ready to take the boardroom by storm than to watch a hockey game.

"Hey Sid, did you happen to bring that form?"

Fuck, that damn paper was the bane of your existence at the moment. "No sorry, I forgot it again."

"No biggie, if you could just give me who you want to be called in case of an injury that's the main thing I need."

"Yeah sure…I mean definitely my parents."

She handed over her phone then for you to put in their information. "Don't worry I'll only call them if necessary, just don't want them worrying."

"Oh yeah of course." You handed the phone back to her, vaguely wondering if your number was in there and how at the same time you could get hers.

"Well, I won't take up any more of your time." She said, patting you on the shoulder. "I know you have pregame rituals and all. Good luck tonight."

"Thanks," and with that she headed off, leaving you standing there, still hypnotized by her. The scent of her perfume still lingered in the air and you found yourself just breathing it in a minute longer before moving to the locker room. Focus, you told yourself. You were not going to be distracted by her.

Once more of the guys started filing in, it was a bit easier to forget about the gorgeous woman, roaming around the arena somewhere. It seemed to be business as usual. You made yourself the same sandwich as you always did, got taped up and played a little warmup soccer. It was only when the ball bounced out of the circle, and you turned to retrieve it, knocking your hat off in the process, that you saw her again, as the ball landed at her feet. "Wow, my grandma can play better than that boys." She teased, dropping the ball only to kick it with her heeled feet back into play. She bent down and picked up your lucky hat in the process as well. Everyone knew that your snapback was pretty much sacred and didn't touch it. It was also disgustingly filthy as you never washed it being the superstitious fuck that you were. "Wouldn't want to lose this." She stated, handing it back over with a cute little wink, as her hand touched yours.

"Uh, yeah…thanks." There was this electricity when she touched you and for a second you didn't want to let go. But then you pulled back suddenly as if you'd been burnt. Luckily, she was called away by one of the social media staff and went back to the soccer game. Normally, you'd be freaking yourself out a bit after the whole hat fiasco, but instead, you kept thinking of Flower's advice and how you would just channel everything into the game.

Halfway through the first, you thought you were fighting a losing battle and that (Y/N) had really jinxed you, in more ways than one. Everything changed though, on a hooking penalty to the Flyers. About thirty seconds into it, on a great pass from Phil, you took all that pent-up frustration out on a slap shot, sending the puck into the back of the net. From there the rest of the night was a magical ending to the regular season at home, where the Pens came out victorious.

As you stepped off the ice, you kept looking for (Y/N) but she was nowhere to be found. You weren't sure why you wanted to see her, maybe it was the superstitious side of you, feeling as though you had a new ritual where she had to touch your hat in order for you to have a great game, or maybe there was just a part of you that really wanted to see her. The latter being something you didn't want to examine too closely, yet she was nowhere around. You finished up your post-game interviews and then headed home for the night, as you had to be up early for a flight to Ottawa.

You were actually surprised that she wasn't at the airport before you in the morning, though she wasn't far behind you. It seemed she had a penchant for being early, just as you did. As she entered the plane you could see her hesitance as to where she should sit, and part of you was a bit disappointed that you had a standard seat with Flower for every away game. Of course, it was Beau who offered her a seat beside him and before the engine started you could hear the two of them laughing about something. The sound grating on your nerves.

By the time the plane landed, you were cranky and irritable from straining to listen to the two of them. You couldn't imagine, why (Y/N) was getting off the bus first once you were at the hotel. Normally, one of the staffers went and got all the keys, and then you just grabbed one as everyone went inside. It must be a new part of her job or something. She hopped back on a few short minutes later, walking down the aisle, handing certain keys to people. It seemed strange, but you didn't really question it.

Finally being allowed off the bus, you headed up to your room, and upon entering flung yourself on the bed and took a nice long nap. You'd been too keyed up from the win to get a good night's sleep, and planned on napping on the plane. Only you'd constantly heard Beau and (Y/N) chit-chatting the entire time. It was about three hours later when you headed down for a meeting with the team. Everyone seemed to be talking about how great their stay was so far, which didn't really make a ton of sense to you. You'd stayed in this hotel dozens of times over the years and there wasn't anything remarkable about it.

Phil and Rusty were discussing just this subject when you sat down at the table. "So what did you get in your room?" Phil asked.

"What?"

"You know, like what did (Y/N) have in there for you?" Christ, what was he talking about? You'd literally walked in, threw your bag down, and slept. It wasn't as if she'd left a present in there for you. The confusion on your face must have given you away, for Phil kept going then. "Well, she had extra pillows in there for me, so I didn't end up having to call down like I do every time and there was a special box filled with my favorite protein bars and stuff."

"Shears and I got extra towels because the guy uses like twenty, no lie; and then she had peanut M&M and stuff in there for me." Rusty chimed in. "Didn't you have one?"

"How would she even know what I like?"

"The form man, didn't you fill it out?" Rusty countered as if you actually knew what was on it.

You grabbed your neck, hoping to stop the blush that was creeping up, before saying. "Um…no. I kind of forgot about it."

Phil just shook his head at you, giving you a side smirk at the same time. "Did you even look at it?"

"Um…not really."

"What's the deal with you and her anyway?" He added.

"There's no deal there."

"No kidding, but you've been giving her the cold shoulder ever since she took this job." This time it was Rusty who called you out.

"I'm just not falling all over her like some people are." Well, maybe you'd tried your best to avoid her at first, but you didn't feel like you were snubbing her by any means.

"Wow, no need to get all defensive," Phil commented and you realized your voice might have been a bit harsher than you intended. "We're just pointing out that you haven't treated her like you do other new staffers."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well when Sara started as JR's new secretary, you sent her flowers. I noticed you didn't do that with (Y/N)." There was no way you could argue with Rusty because it was true; you didn't send flowers to (Y/N) as you had in the past to welcome new recruits. You usually signed it from the entire team as well. "And before you even ask, I know because there weren't any in her office when I dropped off my form." Now you felt like an ass, though it wasn't like you could rectify the situation on the road. "Luckily Kelsey sent her something from us."

"A couple of the guys and I were talking about taking her out to dinner in DC. Sort of like a welcome to the group kind of thing."

"Perfect, I'll just tag along with you guys, Phil." He raised an eyebrow at you and so you added. "And order the flowers when we get back."

"Deal, but since you fucked up; you can pay."

"Fine." It was really the least you could do crashing their dinner and all, plus it would be easier to be with (Y/N) in a group setting than in a one on one environment.

"Oh, one more thing." You cocked your head at your teammate. "You can invite her."

Fuck. It was really the only thing going through your mind, as you groaned inwardly. "Alright."

"No better time like the present," Rusty said, motioning to the doorway where (Y/N) just walked through. Phil elbowed you as well in order to get you to go over to her. Reluctantly, you got up to ask her to dinner with everyone.

"Hey (Y/N), can I have a minute?"

"Sure, what's up?" She moved off to the side and you couldn't help but notice the sway of her hips.

"So um…like…I wanted to know if you wanted to…um…go out to dinner when we get to DC?" God, that was horrible. You sounded like a babbling idiot, and you forgot to mention it was with other guys on the team and that it was to welcome her.

"I really…" She started to answer and you cut her off short.

"With the team, to welcome you of course." Did that even make sense?

"Oh well, yeah sure that's really nice of you guys. It's not really necessary though."

"I want to…I mean we want to." Why did you feel so tongued tied all of the sudden around her? You had stumbled a bit around her that first at Flower's but then things had gone so well. Then again, you weren't afraid of her throwing you off track of all your goals then.

"Ok, it sounds like fun."

"Great, we can work out the details later." You made a move to leave because just being around her, you found it hard to breathe, but she stopped you.

"Sid, I hope you're ok with your room and stuff. I wasn't exactly sure what you liked since I didn't have your form."

That damn fucking form was literally going to be the bane of your existence, and the fact that you hadn't paid attention to anything in the room didn't really help. "Oh yeah, it's fine. Thanks. I'll get that form to you, once we get back."

She shrugged and cocked her head to the side as if somehow reading your thoughts. Though she didn't voice what those were. "No problem, just get it to me whenever. Let me know if you need anything." With that she walked away, seeming somewhat annoyed.

Had you said the wrong thing to her. An uneasiness settled in your stomach; it was something you didn't want to explore. As soon as the meeting was over, you headed back up to your room, to see exactly what she had done. You unlocked the door, looking at the room with a whole different view. The bed was still a mess, but you could tell that there was an abundance of pillows there; it was something that you didn't notice when you'd napped before. Going into the bathroom, you saw that just like Rusty, your room had extra towels in as well. As you wandered back into the main room, you saw a basket sitting on the desk. The inside was filled with some of your favorite things. Candies from your hometown in Novia Scotia, your favorite protein bars and drinks, and so much more. Though one thing stood out above everything else, a book on Egyptian history. It was something you both talked about that first night. There was also a handwritten note tucked inside.

'Sid, I wasn't exactly sure what would make your away games a bit easier but thought maybe some of this would help. Hopefully, the view will relax you before the big game. If not I thought you'd enjoy this book on the Pyramids as much as I did. Let me know if you need anything at all. - (Y/N)'

Now you knew that it wasn't an annoyed look on her face, but one of disappointment; for you truly felt like an asshole for not having noticed any of the special things she'd done for you and the entire team. You were going to need more than just dinner to make things right with (Y/N) that was for sure.

#Not So Dangerous Liaison Series #Sidney Crosby #sidney crosby imagine #Sidney Crosby Imagines #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction

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sarahwroteathing · 4 years

Text

Just One Kiss (15)

Word Count: 2578

Summary: Bucky returns home

Warnings: A touch of language and a whoooooole lot of love

A/N: IT’S TIME! Thank you so much to those who have stuck with me and left sweet comments on every chapter. I couldn’t have kept this going without you.

Catch up here!

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Sounds of joy and relief echoed all around you, families reunited, crying and hugging and cheering as the sun sank towards the horizon. You doubted there was any lipstick left on your bottom lip the way you kept anxiously biting at it, straining up on tiptoes to peer through the crowd.

“Should we check with Mrs. Barnes and Rebecca again?” you asked, settling back down on your heels with a disappointed frown.

“If we keep going over there it will defeat the whole purpose of splitting up,” Betty said gently. “If they had found him, they would have brought him over here already. Are you sure this is where we’re supposed to meet him?”

You gave a frustrated huff, pulling the note you had received a week ago out of your purse. An unfamiliar but well-dressed man had delivered it to your apartment, placing it in your hands with a “our mutual friend sends his regards.” It was a date and time, now two hours past. A ship had been scheduled to arrive then, as confirmed by one of Betty’s friends who worked at the docks. World-weary soldiers in their dress greens had flooded the docks, and given the lack of press and fanfair you would guess that no one was aware of who else had traveled home on that ship.

“It doesn’t say,” you admitted, flipping the page over as if hoping new text had materialized since you’d last checked five minutes ago. “But he had to know I’d come here. I could hardly just sit around at home and wait for him to show up, now could I?”

Betty started to laugh at your grumpy expression but cut off abruptly and grabbed your shoulders.

“I spy a star spangled man with a plan! Look!”

Betty steered you in the right direction, and the two of you took off weaving through the crowd as quickly as you were able without the use of aggressive elbows. You were halfway to him when Steve noticed you, moving in your direction with a soft smile. He had an easier go of it, people stepping respectfully out of his way until he reached you.

“Steve! I’m so glad you’re home,” you said, throwing your arms around him.

“I’m -”

“Move over! There’s room for both of us now!” Betty complained, coming up behind you.

You shuffled to the side accordingly, and Steve laughed as he hugged you both.

“You’re okay? You’re happy?” you asked as you pulled back, holding onto his shoulders and surveying his face with a worried expression.

“I’m happy,” he promised.

You gave a pleased nod, but your smile faded when you noted the very clear absence of the man you most wanted to see.

“Where’s Bucky?” you asked nervously, but when Steve opened his mouth the answer, he was promptly cut off by a chorus of other voices.

“Well hello to you too.”

“No hero’s welcome for us.”

“Of course not. Have you seen yourself?”

“Fuck off, Morita.”

“Please, there are ladies present.”

Assembled in a loose semicircle around you were none other than the Howling Commandos, looking characteristically grumpy but nearly unrecognizable in dress uniforms.

“Well, aren’t you a double ration of man,” Betty commented mildly, her eyes fixed on Dugan.

“Betty!” you choked on a laugh, pinching her side as the men snickered and Dugan shot a wink at you.

You cleared your throat pointedly as you recovered your poise, offering your hand to each man in turn.

“Forgive my lapse in manners. It’s very nice to meet you all in person. Mr. Falsworth, Monsieur Dernier, I didn’t expect the pleasure of meeting you in person,” you said, offering a hand to each in turn. “We appreciated your letters. They were beautifully written.”

The comment elicited another round of laughter and nudges while Gabe Jones rolled his eyes.

“That would be my work, thank you. Be glad you never saw the unedited versions.”

The comment sparked a litany of protests from all but Dugan, who shrugged his shoulders in acceptance.

“They haven’t quite wrung every drop of good publicity out of us yet,” Steve said explained quietly, shaking his head at the others’ antics. “We’re expected in D.C. in a couple of weeks.”

“Well they’ll certainly have their hands full with this group,” Betty commented mildly. “Though it looks like you’re one short.”

You reached out to squeeze Betty’s hand in gratitude.

“He went looking for his family. But he said to tell you he’s going to meet you after. Someplace special.”

“Where?”

“He said you’d know,” Steve answered with an apologetic shrug.

You felt a little flutter in your chest and turned to Betty.

“A special place. Do you think…?”

“Has to be. Go!”

You gave a giddy smile and turned to run, but Steve caught your arm.

“Wait! Just… Go slow, okay? He was really nervous when he left. Asked us to stall. Give him some time.”

“Why is he nervous?”

“It’s been a long time, Y/N. And he knows how important this is. He just wants to get it right.”

On impulse, you pulled Steve into another hug.

“You’re a very good friend, you know. To both of us.”

“Go get him, Mrs. Barnes,” he said with a wink when he pulled away, and the Howling Commandos lived up to their name as you worked your way towards the street.

It took every ounce of self control you possessed to keep a slow and steady pace, forcing your steps to fall in line with deep, even breaths. You tried to keep yourself distracted, counting cracks in the pavement, fixing your lipstick, reciting a poem Bucky wrote to you from memory. The closer you drew to the park, the less helpful these little distractions became until you were stepping under the shade of the trees and the sound of the street faded behind you.

He was standing almost perfectly still when you reached the gazebo, his back turned to you, eyes fixed on the post where he had carved your initials that spring day now years past. His fingers drumming restlessly on the railing was the only visible indication of his nerves.

“Bucky?”

Your voice was barely a whisper, but that’s all it took. Bucky turned on his heel, you froze on the steps, and for a moment everything stopped.

Then one breath.

Two.

A shaky inhale.

A breathless, nervous laugh, and you both rushed forward, colliding at a speed which knocked what little breath you had left out of your lungs, but you wouldn’t dream of complaining. Bucky’s arms closed around you, squeezing you to his chest as your arms went around his shoulders. Unsteady breaths stirred your hair, and you buried your smile against his neck as tears rolled down your cheeks.

“What’s all this for? I thought you didn’t miss me,” he whispered after a few moments.

You huffed and pulled away from him, reaching back to pull his hands free when he only clutched your waist tighter for your efforts.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, keeping ahold of your hands, refusing to give up that last point of contact.

The softness in his eyes did nothing to ease your nerves, and you drew a deep breath.

“I’m going to kiss you, James Buchanan.”

“Oh! Well… Whatever you say, doll.” He was doing his best to contain a smile and failing spectacularly.

You tugged him toward you breathlessly, anxiously, the remaining space between you closing fast yet somehow not quite fast enough. The very first press of his soft lips on yours felt like liberation. Your heart fluttered frantically in your chest, any reservations and lingering nerves melting away.

Your kiss shot through Bucky like a livewire, his hands moving to grip your waist reflexively. And when he thought he felt your mouth begin to curve up at the action, he pressed closer, desperate to taste that beautiful smile the way he had always wanted. You couldn’t help the little gasp that escaped you at single-minded tender energy he was pouring into this moment, giving a little start in his arms as his hold tightened and your feet left the ground.

It was your turn to grip him harder, your hands curling into fists on his chest, bunching the fabric of his jacket in a way that was sure to wrinkle and just as sure to escape both of your notice. One of Bucky’s hands slid up from your waist, taking the opportunity to press you more completely against his chest as it went, before venturing into your hair.

You could feel him actively undoing all the work you’d put into your appearance that morning, disheveling every curl, loosening every pin, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be embarrassed by it. Instead, it sparked a matching mischief in you, and you released his collar in favor of seeking playful revenge, snatching up that jaunty hat in one hand and doing your very best to ruffle and tug his carefully combed hair with the other.

Bucky broke into a laugh, trying to hold it at bay but ultimately failing as you joined in with euphoric giggles of your own. You collapsed into each other, your head falling forward to rest on his shoulder as he nuzzled against your neck, the both of you thoroughly caught up in a wave of breathless, blissful laughter.

“I love you,” he whispered against your skin, prompting a bright smile and a giddy sigh.

“I love you too, James Buchanan. With all of my heart.”

“Yeah?”

“I swear it on all the letters under the floorboard.”

Bucky lifted his head, fixing you with the sweetest smile, but you couldn’t appreciate it for more than a few seconds before breaking into a fit of giggles.

“What is it, doll?” he asked, grinning wider at the sweet sound.

“You h-have lipstick all over your m-m-mouth,” you struggled out as you laughed, digging into your jacket pocket for your handkerchief.

Bucky swatted at your hand when you reached up to wipe away the bright stain, signature smirk firmly in place.

“Hey, no! Leave it! How else will I know this wasn’t just another daydream, huh?”

“Stop - Let me - Bucky, quit!”

He evaded your attempts for a few moments, alternating between pushing and capturing your hands when you tried to reach for him before surrendering, holding you close against his chest as a consolation prize as you wiped away the vibrant smudges. Though he was quite content with the arrangement, he put on a pout, winning him a lingering kiss on the cheek.

“That one you can keep,” you said, appraising the lip print with satisfaction.

“What about this one?” Bucky asked, squeezing you tightly.

“This one?” you laughed. “A very affectionate nickname. I’m honored.”

“I can do better,” he said with a nervous smile, squeezing you again for just a moment before pulling away to kneel in front of you.

“Bucky,” you whispered faintly. “What are you doing?”

“I know it may seem a little silly since we’ve only just had our first kiss, but…”

“Oh my god.”

“I have loved you for... most of life. And I know it hasn’t been that long for you, and maybe you’re not ready for this yet, and that’s alright. You know by now I’m prepared to wait as long as it takes for you.”

Your eyes were burning, tears fighting their way to the surface as you tried to control your breathing.

“But I just… it’s all I could think about. Every second I was over there, and every time I looked at your picture or read your letters… And as soon as I got off the boat I saw this kid, and he was folding up this gum wrapper, and… Well, I… I paid him fifty cents for it,” Bucky laughed, shaking his head at himself as he reached into his pocket for it, a delicate little ring made of carefully folded foil.

“Fifty cents?” you choked out with a tearful laugh.

“I probably could have gotten it for free, but I panicked, and it seemed like the most important thing in the world at the moment. Remember when we were kids and I used to make these all the time?”

“You used to try,” you said breathlessly.

“I was practicing,” he shrugged. “And it seems a little ridiculous now. I know I can buy you something nicer, and I promise I will, but… I don’t want to wait any longer than I have to.”

“Bucky, are you sure you want to do this? You don’t have to -”

“Of course I’m sure,” he answered with a warm smile. “You’re my forever. You always have been.”

When you dropped down into Bucky’s arms, he rose to meet you halfway, lifting you straight off the ground and clutching you tightly. You held him with a grip even stronger, your happiness flooding out in a wave of tearful giggles. Bucky gave you a couple of spins for good measure before setting you carefully on your feet, releasing you with one hand to reform the makeshift ring which had been crushed in his palm. He held it up for your inspection, watching you carefully, his nervous expression blooming into a brilliant smile when you slipped it onto your left ring finger.

Without a single word, he crushed you against his chest, burying his face in your neck as if he hadn’t the slightest intention of moving again.

“You haven’t heard my answer yet, you know,” you teased, coaxing his head up so you could look into those gorgeous eyes you’d missed so much. You held his chin carefully, your thumb resting over the dimple that seemed placed for precisely that purpose. The corner of your mouth curled up against your will when Bucky narrowed his eyes at you, arching an eyebrow in challenge.

“If you say ‘I’m not marrying you, James Buchanan,’ I swear….”

“You swear you’ll what?” you laughed, and he let out a pained sigh.

“I’ll keep asking. Every day until you say yes,” he admitted.

“You haven’t even properly asked me today yet. Maybe try that first.”

He gave a slow nod, leaning forward until his forehead rested against yours.

“Will you marry me?” he whispered, lips brushing yours as he spoke.

“Nothing would make me happier.”

And once again you were lost in a flurry of swirling skirts and breathless laughter, Bucky dropping feather-light kisses everywhere he could reach until you were thoroughly flustered.

“You’ll still have to walk me home, you know,” you added once he’d grown a little calmer.

“Oh, no! However shall I manage,” he said groaned, taking your hand and pulling you towards the park path.

“Well, I have to benefit from this marriage somehow. It’s the least you could do.”

“You’re right. I plan to make you perfectly miserable, so your sacrifice is appreciated,” Bucky said, drawing you closer to his side, and brushing a kiss to your temple as you rolled your eyes.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“So, we won’t get married until next week. I’ll be less ridiculous then.”

“Next week?” you cried, shoving at his shoulder in disbelief until he stumbled a few steps to the side with a laugh.

“Fine, fine. Tomorrow.”

“Bucky!”

With his laughter echoing through the evening air, your heart felt lighter, happier than you could ever remember it feeling. He was home. He was safe. He was yours. And that was all you were ever going to need.

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How do we feel? Sound off - who’s still alive?? Come scream with me!

Again, thank you so much for coming on this journey with me. Your comments kept me going, they really did.

Bonus Drabble questions will remain open, both for events before, during, and after the series if you want to know anything about their married life. And if anyone’s interested, there may be an epilogue forthcoming.

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#bucky barnes x reader #40s!bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes series

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