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atlabeth · 4 months

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Girl for one get that glass of water! andddd this is a loose request but I LOVE knight Luke and we just gotta see them have that cinderella live action ball scene like romantic dancing maybe the secret garden as well but either way we gotta see these gals at a ball! Have a great day you're an amazing writer!

under the moonlight

fic about the ball

pairing: knight!luke castellan x princess!reader

a/n: thank you so much for this request it is so fucking cute lmao. i changed it a bit to make it work with my vision (bc they wouldn’t really be able to dance at a ball) but the core is that they're dancing together!!! and it is much more intimate and personal lol. here is the cinderella scene that the ask mentioned (and that i took inspo from because it's a beautiful scene lol)

wc: 2.5k

warning(s): basically all fluff

as usual, a mix of hcs and traditional fic!

ALRIGHT LAST TIME WE LEFT OFF princess was dancing with princes during the ball and luke was sulking at his first ever ball accompanying you as a knight

and thankfully, that all goes okay.

You don’t get murdered, Luke only goes slightly insane, and you don’t fall head over heels for any royals.

All in all, a pretty alright night in retrospect.

But post-ball is rough on both of you.

You complain about how much your feet hurt from your heels and how uncomfortable your dress is and how your cheeks ache from smiling so much.

To your surprise, as Luke follows you down the halls, he laughs.

You stop in your tracks as you whirl around. “And what do you find so funny?”

“Nothing,” he says with a slight smile, almost private. “Just… good to be back with you, princess.”

A small smile of your own starts to creep on your lips. “It was only half the night, Luke.”

“And you have no idea how much I missed you,” he muses.

You just shake your head and continue walking. “You’re funny.”

(he’s not joking. he’s just going through it now that he’s not training 24/7 and actually has time to feel emotions again)

You finally get back to your room—thankfully, you got out of any post-ball events with any princes by citing exhaustion, and it’s very rude to demand more of an exhausted lady—and Luke shuts the door behind you as you sink into the edge of your bed.

“God,” you groan as you immediately peel your heels off, letting out a sigh of relief. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to those.”

“If it’s any help, you looked very regal out there,” Luke says.

“It is my duty,” you say as you smile inwardly. “You looked very knightly out there.”

“And that’s my duty,” he says in kind. He gets a chuckle out of you.

You begin to take everything off—you undo your hair from whatever elaborate style it was in, you strip your wrists and fingers bare of bracelets, bangles, and rings (though you leave a certain necklace on), you undo parts of your dress. When you take your nightgown from your chest and go behind your folding screen, Luke clears his throat.

“Princess,” Luke says, “do you want me to—?”

“You can stay,” you say. “I don’t mind.”

And Luke, idiot that he is, gets all in his head.

(Does she not want me to leave because she doesn’t even see me as someone who could like her like that???) (We’ve been friends for so long, does she just see me as an older brother???) (Does this mean she trusts me or sees me as like. a painting on the wall.) (what the fuck)

It’s not any of those, poor boy. it’s just that you feel more comfortable around him than anyone because you’ve been around each other for your entire life—he knows you better than anyone. What’s the harm in him being in the room when you’re separated by a folding screen anyway?

but Luke is dramatic and also so fucking insecure when it comes to your feelings for him lmao

and he has a reason to be i guess?? because at this point while he knows that he has feelings for you (hasn’t fully realized he’s in love) you haven’t realized your own. you just think you have a lingering childhood crush on Luke and it’ll go away as you get older and start being courted

(spoiler alert: it will not go away.)

so he gets all weird and silent, giving one word responses as you talk with him, and when you come out in your nightgown you immediately stare him down.

“Luke,” you said, “what’s wrong?”

He blinked, as if he wasn’t expecting you to say anything. “Nothing.”

“Luke,” you repeated. “Come on.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he repeated as well.

You crossed your arms. “Don’t act like I don’t know every single thing about you.”

“If you do, then you should know that nothing is wrong,” he countered.

You stared at him for a moment more, then you held out your hand. “Dance with me, then.”

That actually seemed to throw him off guard as he frowned. “What?”

“Did you go deaf back there?” you joked. “I want you to dance with me.”

He managed a smile, though it was slightly awkward. It only made your smile grow. “I don’t dance, princess.”

“Which is why I’ll teach you,” you said with a nod. “I’ve had plenty of practice.”

“And I have none.” Luke gestured at his armor. “I’m not exactly suited for it, either.”

“You can take off your armor,” you said. “It’ll make it all much easier. And a lot quieter.”

“My job is to protect you, princess.” Luke laid his hand on the hilt of his sword. “I can’t exactly defend you if all the armor’s gone.”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. He really did worry too much. “Nothing’s going to happen here, Luke—not now. I’ll even let you keep your sword with you if it matters that much.”

He still didn’t seem sure. You inclined your head and took another step forward, still holding out your hand.

“I’ll count you through it all,” you promised. “And if you like, I can hum one of those orchestra tunes they played earlier tonight. And I promise it’ll make you feel better.”

“...Fine,” Luke relented, and he started undoing his armor. “But you don’t tell anyone about this.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” you remarked.

It took a fair amount of time for Luke to get his armor off, but it took just as long for you to get every layer of your ball gown off earlier—and besides, you had endless patience reserved especially for him. The toned forearms revealed as he rolled his sleeves up certainly helped.

“Are you ready?” you asked as you held out your hand again.

Luke took it uncertainly. “I feel as if I’m the one meant to be asking you that.”

“You can lead next time we train together,” you said with a smile. “For now, you’re in my domain.”

You put Luke’s hand on your waist and reached for his other one, adjusting until it was right, then you looked up at him. “Does that feel alright?”

His eyes were startlingly dark this close, surprisingly intense. He nodded.

“Good. I’m going to teach you a few basic steps so you can get used to it.”

Luke nodded again. You wondered why words seemed behind his grasp.

yeah girlie I wonder why

Luke is. not a great dancer

You’re not surprised, and you don’t say a single word about it as you teach him the basics. he spent his childhood swinging a sword around, and you spent yours learning etiquette and ballroom dances lol

He steps on your foot about ten times and apologizes like a freak every time, you just laugh and smile and tell him you’re fine. Sure, your slippers don’t provide much protection and Luke’s boots aren’t great against them but you honestly don’t even feel it. you’re too busy getting lost in his eyes lol

And for someone who spent two years training like an insane person, he gets frustrated very easily when things don’t go his way.

“How do you do this? It’s impossible.”

“I learned this dance when I was twelve, Luke.”

as much as you jest while you’re teaching him the basics you’re encouraging him the entire time because he’s your best friend above all else!!! and you honestly believe he can do anything lmao

And he’s a quick learner! He didn’t become the youngest kingsguard in history by learning slowly. So soon enough, you’re actually dancing together.

Luke’s hand on your back feels like the most natural thing in the world, and you can tell he’s actually starting to get a little into it.

You didn’t have to count your steps off anymore, so you’d switched to humming one of your favorite symphonies from the musicians back in Aurelda.

Luke is still focused on landing every move, but your lead and the music gives him confidence in this that he didn’t really know he had. He spins you, and you get an idea as you twirl your way to the balcony door. You open it and look back at him.

“Princess—” Luke starts as he takes a few steps towards you, but you just shake your head with a grin and hold out your hand.

“Trust me.”

And he does, somehow.

You didn’t know what part of himself Luke had to get to in order to actually go along with this, but he allowed you to fully take the lead. His eyes never left yours as you guided him through one of your favorite dances—sometimes you called out whatever move that was coming next, and he would do it perfectly. His instincts and reaction time, sharply honed by his training, actually came in handy.

“And lift!”

Luke braced his hands on your waist as he raised you into the air without missing a beat, and you found yourself actually laughing with pure glee as you landed. You grinned at Luke who had a smile smaller than yours, but that you knew meant the same. He glowed with exertion and the light of the full moon shone down on him.

Angelic was the only word you could think of to describe him.

“Princess,” he said, bringing you back to the real world, “are we done?”

“I see no reason not to end while we’re ahead,” you said, slightly out of breath from his lift. “You’re a natural. Are you sure you’re not a prince?”

Luke’s smile didn’t fully reach his eyes for the slightest moment—he covered it up before you could fully analyze it. “Thankfully, I’m not. Otherwise I would have had to do that all my life like you.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” you said offhandedly. “Especially when you’ve got such a great partner.”

Luke suddenly lowered himself into a bow, his arm held in front of his chest as he bent over. You couldn’t stifle your laugh in time, but he was smiling when he rose.

“The only proper way to truly end a dance, so I’ve seen,” he said. “I wouldn’t be such a great partner if I forgot that.”

You grinned as you took the skirt of your nightgown in your hands and bobbed into a curtsy. “Thank you for the reminder, my lord.”

A shiver ran through you and Luke’s eyebrows creased. “You should get back inside. You’re not dressed at all for this weather.”

“It’s simply a night chill,” you said, and you walked over to the railing and rested your forearms on it. “And it’s too beautiful a night to ignore.”

“It truly is.”

You heard Luke walk up next to you, so you glanced over. His gaze was only set on you.

You felt your cheeks flush and you bit back your smile as you stared back up at the stars. For a moment, you stood together in comfortable silence.

“Thank you for tonight,” you finally said.

You could hear his frown in his words. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said.” You leaned a bit closer to the railing, shifting your balance. “Your presence always… calms me. And I was a bit nervous for tonight.”

When Luke finally responded, it was more restrained than usual. “Why?”

“Well, I was nervous tonight because you put the idea in my head that I was going to get murdered,” you said wryly. “And your presence calms me because it always has.”

“So… I made you nervous and calmed you down for what I made you nervous about?” Luke shook his head. “I’m sorry, princess.”

“Why are you apologizing?” You finally turned to look at him, the smallest smile on your lips. “Anytime I got overwhelmed on the floor, or felt as if I was going to keel over from boredom, I just searched around until I found you.” You shrugged. “The sight of you alone was enough to get me through the rest of it.”

“And of course,” you tipped a shoulder as your gaze drifted back to the stars, “you danced with me for no reason. That gives you all the good will you need from me.”

“It wasn’t for no reason,” he said. “It made you happy. That’s reason enough for me.”

The chill in the air was a blessing as you felt heat rise in your cheeks, and your smile grew just so.

“Besides.” You could feel his eyes on you as he continued. “This was my first ball. Anytime I got overwhelmed, I would find you in the crowd, and your confidence got me through it.”

You chuckled as your gaze fell to the marble railing. You didn’t know if you’ve ever felt less confident at a ball—but knowing that Luke was looking for you the same way you did him made butterflies arise in your stomach.

Warmth spurned all through you, and the fingers on your forearms felt bumps rise on your skin. You didn’t exactly know what possessed you as you cleared your throat and started back towards your room.

“It’s late,” you said, perhaps a bit too hasty. “We— we should turn in. It’s going to be a long ride back to Aurelda.”

You paused at the door, waiting to hear Luke’s footsteps or his voice, and it took a few seconds for him to do anything.

“...Yes,” he eventually said. “I apologize for keeping you so long.”

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself as you opened the door and walked back in. Always so noble—it was no question he had knight’s blood in his veins.

“It’s not your fault, Luke,” you said. “You were just meant to drop me off—I got you to stay.”

You sat on the side of your bed as Luke put his armor back on. There was no point in it, but he refused to let the implications of him leaving your room at this hour in his underclothes fester.

“I chose to stay,” he said. “I know better.”

“You can give it a rest for a night, Luke,” you said with a slight laugh. “I’m your princess, aren’t I?”

“Certainly.”

“And you are my knight.”

“Yes.”

“Then I don’t see how anyone could have a problem with my knight spending time with me.” You smiled as you leaned forward, meeting his eyes. A smile twitched on his lips for just a moment before he continued to get dressed.

Soon enough, he was ready to go. Luke paused at the door, fingers on the handle, and met your eyes.

“Thank you again for tonight, princess,” he said. “I…”

His breath caught for a moment. His eyes flickered down to your neck. A millisecond later, they were back at eye level, and you allowed a knowing smile.

“I enjoyed it,” he murmured. “Goodnight, princess.”

“Goodnight, Luke,” you said softly.

And you got one more smile out of him before he closed the door behind him.

#IF I EVER DO NOT DO THE “IT'S BEAUTIFUL” “YEAH IT IS” *LOOKING AT THEM* TROPE THEN I AM DEAD I AM DEADDDD DO YOU HEAR ME #posting at midnight because i once again have no self control #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan headcanon #luke castellan au #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #x reader #knight!luke #sadie writes

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igotanidea · 4 months

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Specter: Jason Todd x ghost!reader (pt 1)

Warnings: death of reader (duh!), death and resurrection of the other main character, angst

***

She was his best friend.

His only friend.

More than his friend.

Knowing each other since they were kids running loose on the streets of Gotham forced to tend to themselves.

He chuckled at the memory of their first meeting.

Fighting over few apples and a half loaf of bread she managed to rim from some man while batting her elalashes and making innocent face of a street-starving girl.

Well, she was a street starving girl, but as far away from innocent as they come, of which fact Jason was almost brutally made aware upon trying to steal some of it from her. Gaining a bruised eye and a scratch that left a tiny scar on his arm instead.

A well-deserved scar, cause even after all those years he was mentally cringing at the memory he was actually trying to rob a girl his age of food. Terrible thought. In his defence, he was starving himself.

Fortunately, they somehow came to an agreement and since then, there was always someone to care for and who could take care of them by their side.

Y/N and Jason.

Together even when not.

Inseparable even after that batmobil-tires accident, cause there was no way in hell Jason would start living with the Bruce Wayne and left his best only friend behind.

Nah.

So would anyone be surprised that after a while they actually started falling in love? Or maybe they were in love from the beggining since the apples but never noticed?

The point however stood, obvious to everyone but those two donkey level stubborn young adults.

So apart from a few stolen kisses, helluva blushing, talking through the nights, secret awkward hugs and one attempt at intimacy, nothing—

Ok, you know what scratch that last sentence. A LOT has happened in the span of a few weeks. And it brought them significantly closer. Hoping for more and actually trying to work towards more.

So when Jason, at the mature age of 16 went for another Batman-related mission, he pecked her lips and promised to have the real talk about their future when he gets back.

Spoiler alert: He never did.

And when Batman walked to the Batcave with no Robin to follow him and broke the news it was like Y/N’s heart was gone with Jason’s life.

Torn from her chest since at that moment it stopped beating and everything lost its meaning.

She refused to eat, drink, talk and get up in the morning. Spending her days in isolation or sitting by his symbolical grave since the body was never found.

Withering her young life away at the graveyard.

No one ever told her the truth.

***

Miraculously Jason came back five years later. Completely different than a scrawny kid everyone used to know him. Raging terror upon Gotham for a while before actualy forming some kind of allegiance with the Bats. And at some point, the question had to be asked. And the hard truth had to be revealed.

„Where is Y/N?” he whispered, getting shy, gulit, regret and remorse filling him to the brim as he was searching through the entire manor in search for her.

A few saddened looks were exchanged between his siblings as those words rung in the air.

Oh, no.

„Where the hell is she?!” Jason yelled, ready to punch a wall, hit Dick in the face and beat the shit out of Bruce for keeping something from him.

„Jaybrird—„

„Do not fucking call me that Grayson! Where is my Y/N?!”

„No one told you—„

„She;s dead.” Damian muttered, unaware of the consequences of dropping such a bomb on his brother. „We burried her a year—„

Jason roared like a wounded animal, nearly making the glass in the window shutter.

„DEAD?!!”

„Jason—„

„STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!”

„I think you should-„

„YOU DON’T GET TO TELL ME WHAT I SHOULD BE DOING DICKHEAD!”

The rage creeping inside Jason’s head and heart was suffocating. Beating the post-Pit madness multiple times and seeming neverending. He panted and wailed, wanting to destroy something. Kill someone. Anyone, but preferably the one responsible for Y/N;s premature departure from the world. Set a fire to the manor. Break into the League of Assasin’s headquarters and let them kill him. For good this time. Crawl into the deepest darkest pit and die.

„Jason—„

„WHO DID THIS?!”

„It was—„

„I WANT A NAME!”

„We don’t-„

„I WANT THAT PERSON;S HEAD ON A STICK!”

No matter how hard Dick, Tim, Cass, Steph and Barbara tried to get to him (cause obviously Damian was just watching with curiosity), nothign worked.

„It was an accident.” Bruce muttered, finally joining the family allured by the screams.

„AN ACCIDENT?!”

„A car crash. She was just a pedestian, did nothing wrong. The driver was DUI.”

„SO WHAT?! YOU’RE A FUCKING BILLIONAIRE, YO COULDN’T HAVE PROVIDED HER WITH A GOOD FUCKING DOCTOR!?”

„She died instantly.”

„SHE—„ Jason’s voice broke, all the anger finally subsiding replaced by the pain. „She what- ?”

„I am sorry jason…”

„SHE WAS YOUR RESPONSIBLITY!”

„No, she was your resposibilty Jason. You were the one who befrended her, fell for her, brought her into this life. Should have known better.”

„SHUT UP!”

„She stayed here after you died instead of moving forward, unable to forget you.”

„SHUT THE FUCK UP!” it was impossible to listen to Bruce only fueling up the guilt and pain iside Jason’s heart.

„She—„

„Master Bruce.” Now Alfred came into the scene, preventing another blood bath that were bound to happen between a father and a son. ‘Perhaps we should give master Jason some space now. Miss Y/N’s death took a heavy toll on all of us, didn;t it?”

”Hm.”

„Come Jay. Upstairs.” Cass smiled at him to the best of her abilities „You need rest.”

Hazily he took a few steps forward but didn;t miss Bruce’s pained whisper and haunted expression.

„You’re not the only one who lost her…”

***

It’s been five years since then.

But now, as Jason was standing by her grave it all felt surreal.

Y/N Y/L/N, daughter, friend, prankster.

That last word was something she would laugh at.

But he was not.

Five years. The same amount he was gone, same amount for which she believed him to be dead, visiting his grave.

Did she feel all those feels he was dealing with right now?

Emptiness.

Numbness.

Anger.

And that pressuring what if-.

They could have been happy together. Working though their difficulties and becoming real. Maybe starting a family. Escaping all this shitty vigilantism life pushed them both into.

Destroying both of their lifes.

One cold six feet under, the other cold six feet inside.

„I miss you.” He whispered in the space, putting a buquet of flowers on the ground next to the ledger „You will forever be the one to haunt me.”

With that he turned around, walking away with head hung low and hands in the pockets of his jacket.

Getting back to his apartment.

In which she could have been with him if things were to work out differently.

part 2 : phantom

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd angst #red hood angst

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hauntedjpegcollection · 5 months

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poor broke ugly

wc: 2946 au: band au ch: lark, matilda, benji

Lark doesn’t usually drink.

He’s not opposed to one or two beers, especially when they’re free (Lark Tanaka has never, in his life passed up something free), but he also doesn’t drink really. Not with the intention to get drunk and never because it tastes good—because it doesn’t, and people are lying when they say it does. Alcohol makes his throat burn, sours his stomach, turns his face unpleasantly warm. It darkens his cheeks pink, which he’s always found unflattering a look and neither bar or club lighting does much for his complexion to begin with.

That’s why they’re outside.

That’s the excuse anyway. Outside, for the cool night air and not outside, because then it’s just them. Lark had suggested it (“Do you want to come outside with me?”), when they’d both gotten that free second or third or maybe fourth drink from the bartender. She was a fan, liked their underground grass roots style, had a tattoo of a lyric that Benji had written when he was only eighteen years old—and Lark for what’s it’s worth, had tried so hard to pay attention. He was good with fans, he cared about fans, not the way some lead singers did because it bolstered their ego or put them on a pedestal.

The band didn’t exist without the fans. But…even when she was talking, when she was mixing Matilda’s cocktail and she was asking Lark about something (what was the bartenders name? She had said it to him when he’d leaned over to shake her hand), all he could do was stare at Matilda. She didn’t look bad under the wavering neon lights. He didn’t think she could look bad.

They’d dipped out the exit door behind the bar seconds later into cool night air that instantly made Lark feel just a smidge more sober. It was a sweet hole in the wall sort of place, the kind of venue that Benji really loved. There’s a twinge of guilt that Lark isn’t inside with Benji—they don’t have to stick hip to hip and usually don’t. That was always the best part of Benji and Lark; that they could be Benji and Lark, not something squished together. They could have their own moments of peace completely unconnected to the other, no matter how much starting a band together had solidified they were together forever now.

Maybe he just feels guilty, because it was so obvious how badly he wanted to be alone with Matilda. Maybe he feels guilty because he’s still unsure of their new guitar player or he feels guilty because he’d not done his best this show, because he was tired and hungry and his phone had twelve missed phone calls.

Matilda and Lark fall into an easy, if not safe, conversation. Did you like the opener, your mic was too loud, I almost tripped, Benji broke another stick tonight, someone asked me to sign their hand—it isn’t the sort of stuff he wants to be talking about. It’s just the sort of conversation that happens between…coworkers, he supposes. The thought makes the entire night feel duller.

She’s sipping her cocktail, the straw between her fingers, when they pause in front of a dark antique store on the strip. It’s well past midnight. The sign is flipped to close.

“That says poor broke ugly,” Lark says, pointing to a shoddy made zen garden with a wooden stick sign, something obviously not vintage at all. Matilda laughs so suddenly and so hard that she spits a bit of the cocktail (Goddess of the Underground had been the name, and its an ugly sort of purple color that smells too much like vodka). She’s wiping at the little spill on her chin with her thumb when she leans closer to look at it. Lark has to struggle not to pay attention to the spill of her hair over her shoulder. He keeps one hand in his pocket, the other holding the glass of beer he shouldn’t have been allowed to leave with.

“My sister was always better with Japanese,” he comments.

“How come?”

“No idea,” Lark laughs. “I dunno—maybe she just gets languages better. Japanese is hard enough even people living in Japan can fucking suck at it.”

“American’s aren’t that great at English, either, if you haven’t noticed.” She takes another sip of her drink. Something hangs in the air between them. A moment that is either going to pass, or going to be taken. Matilda fiddles with the straw in her drink, casts him a sideways glance as they stand in front of the fake antique shop.

Then,

“My brother too. Like the language thing, but not by being bilingual. He was just always better in every dinner conversation—or networking thing we had to go to. Always knew what to say, or when to laugh.”

“Not at a funeral.”

“What?” Matilda laughs then, steps closer, lets her shoulder hit the glass window. He knows he’s drunk because the outline of her is fuzzy and soft, ethereal and distant. If he lifted a hand and touched her shoulder, they’d just disappear right into each other. Lark tilts his head back, smiling up at the night sky. There’s too much light pollution in this shitty city to see the stars, but that’s okay. He closes his eyes briefly, sighing.

“I laughed during my grandfathers funeral and almost got kicked out.”

Matilda lifts a hand. Her fingers take the zipper of his jacket. She toys with it.

“What was so funny?” She asks, head tilted. The sound of the zipper is agonizingly loud. The wind touches the hollow of his throat as it’s exposed. The hint of her tongue behind her teeth every time she speaks is purple, just like the drink.

“Nothing,” Lark replies truthfully.

—

“Oh my God, fourteen?” Her laugh has gotten louder the longer they walk. She’d drained the rest of her cocktail and placed the glass on a low brick wall to forget about—and then they’d shared his beer together. Taking sips, passing it back and forth. Now, they’re drunk. No longer in the middle of sobriety and tipsy. They are both drunk, walking back toward the bar, as the night ends somewhere between pleasant and surreal. Lark is smiling at her, hands deep in his pockets so he isn’t too tempted to take one of hers.

“I don’t have a good excuse.” Lark shakes a palm through his messy hair, trying not to continue smiling. He shouldn’t be grinning ear to ear, talking about his juvenile record like this. Only, that was the game they were playing. Trading little vulnerable secrets, because the night felt immortal like that. Deeply intimate and only for them. “It wasn’t even a nice car. It was a Honda.”

“You have shit taste.”

“It was unlocked.”

“That’s like—that is so much less impressive, then? I’m not impressed anymore.”

“You were impressed to begin with?”

He watches her roll her eyes. Some of her eyeshadow has started to rub away. Mascara sticks in little dots underneath her eyes as well. He wishes the bar was further away.

“It’s your turn,” he reminds her. He dares to nudge Matilda with his elbow, glancing up at her once more. Every time he does, he’s distracted once more by a strand of hair that continues getting caught in her lip gloss by the occasional gust of wind. She’d once applied it, standing beside him in a shitty bar bathroom. He was trying to not poke his eye out with an eyeliner pen and she was laughing—and then taking it from him and making him lean against the sink counter and doing it for him. She’d imitated the popped mouth look that girls always wore when applying make up to their eyes.

Fuck, he’s drunk. He wants to kiss her.

Then remembers the notorious disaster of his ex boyfriend being their guitarist for their first EP.

Matilda swings around to stand in front of him, pausing them on the sidewalk. She drapes her wrists over his shoulders—not really touching him but, not not touching him either.

“I was a cheerleader in high school,” she confesses. It makes Lark laugh immediately, head tilting back. One of his hands leaves his pocket, without thinking. It closes in around her hip. She’s wearing a satin textured top that drapes all over her upper body. Her skirt is tight though, the material stretching around her more square shape. He likes the look of her, the silhouette she creates when the lights are on her in the dark, on the stage.

“That’s adorable.”

“Wow, adorable?” She sneers, her lip curling. “That’s not how most men react to cheerleaders.”

“Ew.” Lark says it without meaning to. Then he blinks, feeling stupid and caught off guard. “Sorry—I just mean, if any guy hears that and is immediately thinking anything other than ‘wow that’s so cute’, he’s probably a fucking weirdo.” Matilda is silent in her observation of him. Her wrists are still sitting on his shoulders, their chests closer than they’ve ever been. Lark hasn’t moved his hand from her hip.

“How come Benji never calls you Elias?”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” She presses a bit closer. One of her hands has suddenly moved to the back of his head. Her long keyboardist fingers capture a few strands of his hair. The idle movement, the soft playful tug makes something dark and hungry unfurl in his lower stomach. He blinks more than a few times again, looking down at her exposed collarbone.

“I hadn’t started my transition when I met Benji. I mean, I had, but—I hadn’t figured out a name yet. I went by Lark on the website we posted our samples to. It was a nickname Xavier had given me.” Not for the first time, he wishes Xavier was more than just a part of stories he’d occasionally tell to everyone. He wishes Xavier was there—had even a shred of musical talent so he could be part of a band, instead of part of the U.S. military industrial complex he’d accidentally sold his soul to at seventeen. Matilda would like Xavier. He feels sure of that.

“Anyway—Daisuke is hard to pronounce. No one gets it right on their first try.”

“Daisuke,” Matilda says confidently.

“I just said it.”

“Doesn’t seem that hard to pronounce.”

“Okay, but I just said it—I meant every teacher I’ve ever had has pronounced it wrong reading it off an attendance sheet.” She’s grinning, a little mischievous, a little mean. Her eyes are two bright sparks in the dark. He realizes she’s teasing him. And he realizes how much he likes it. It only makes that hungry arousal in his stomach worse. Lark snorts and squeezes her hip, a bit harder than maybe he would have if he was entirely sober. She shifts a bit closer.

“When I finally picked another name, I had just been going by Lark for so long. I dunno, it doesn’t bother me. Half the time Benji is calling me dickhead and I’m telling him to shut up.” They both laugh then, which makes the heat in Lark feel less like a devouring need to press her against a wall and more like—more comforting. Fireplace warmth. He can feel himself sobering up. Something about Matilda liking Benji so much made Lark like her even more than his obvious attraction.

“Can I call you Elias?” she finally asks, chin tilted down so their eye contact is direct and severe. Maybe he isn’t that sober. Her words feel like a wax drip over his sensitive skin. He licks his lips—something in her expression suddenly looks a lot less practiced. She’s staring at his mouth now. He almost wishes it was cold enough to see their breaths mingle in the air. He wants to know how close he is to her, in a measurable distance like that.

“Yeah,” he finally concludes and then promises to hate himself for it later. Because then Matilda is grinning again, pushing their chests together in one quick shove. And then she’s gone. Dancing forward on the sidewalk toward the parking lot of the bar. The crowd has mostly thinned to nothing.

“I was lying, by the way!” She calls, head tilted over her shoulder. The streetlights make her look like something painted in watercolor. “Like, I’d ever be a cheerleader.”

“You lied?” Lark huffs. “Now I have to guess what else you lied about! I told you I stole a car!” Her laughing begins to mix with the sounds of cars starting in the bar parking lot, people still lingering and talking, not the kind that would want their attention, and he’s thankful for it.

He rushes after her, but still doesn’t take her hand.

—

Lark opens the back of the beat up white van that carries most of their shit and crawls inside. It smells like cigarette smoke, sweat and burnt plastic. Somehow it’s one of the most comforting things in the world, considering Lark doesn’t smoke and hates being close enough to people he can smell them and the burnt plastic means something probably got unplugged wrong when they broke down their set. Someone will get yelled at for it later, but in that moment he doesn’t care about anything.

Instead, he finds a curled up body on a blanket covering amps. Benji sleeps with his knees tucked up, one hand pressed underneath a cheek and the other arm somehow holding his legs closer. He looks angelic like that, in the dark, shoulders rising and falling calmly. Lark shouldn’t wake him up—Benji doesn’t ever sleep enough.

But Lark is already crawling over top of him without thinking. He thought he was sober before, but the second Matilda parted (at the entrance to the bar, still smiling that slightly mean-sweet grin, telling him she’s not sleeping in a car, thanks for the offer) he felt drunk all over again. The alcohol he doesn’t usually drink swims in his blood stream and clouds all thoughts—her lips had been stained dark by whatever had been in her drink.

“Ge’off me,” Benji snaps, suddenly awake. His rough hands curl around Lark’s shoulders, fingers dug in. Suddenly not angelic looking, but snarling mad and ready to fight for his personal space back. It only takes a second for Lark to blink, both bleary and innocently, for Benji to melt back. “Fuckin’ hell, don’t just do that. Alright?”

Instead of answering right away, Lark continues his path up Benji. He slides his way between the wall of the van and the drummers solid back. Benji has the lingering faint scent of a cigarette after all—means he’s not as good about quitting as he keeps claiming he is. It’s such a wildly familiar scent that Lark doesn’t mind it at all. He wraps arms around Benji’s stomach, pulls them in close.

They used to have to sleep like this a lot on the road. After a gig, they’d take the night in the van because hotels were expensive. And sometimes when they weren’t expensive, they’d just walk out to their van having been broken into anyway. A guitar stolen, or something vandalized. It was almost safer to keep themselves tucked into the back like this, but Lark also thought a part of it was indulgent. It felt realer this way. Like they were a real pair of musicians, trying their best.

Benji is still grumbling under his breath, but he adjusts to get himself comfortable again.

“Are you tired?” Lark asks.

“I was just fuckin’ sleepin’, yeah?”

“No, I mean—are you tired of trying to do this? Make this a thing?”

It was better, now. They were going places, now. Matilda had connections that were taking them farther—they were getting in touch with agents, with potential record deals, with bigger venues, better vans, maybe a tour bus. Maybe hotels that could be comped here and there. Lark resists the urge to squeeze Benji, just to remember he’s real and has been there since it was—

Since it was skipping food afterward because they needed to afford gas. Or eating ramen five nights in a row until they were both sick, but at least it was food. Since his ex boyfriend almost ruined it, since Reno almost ruined it, since Lark almost ruined it once before because his parents wouldn’t stop trying to get him to come home (and that was all he’d wanted since he was sixteen, but he knew that come home meant, help us with Akari).

I just want t’play drums, mate.

I just want to sing, man. Lie, because when he looks at Matilda, he wants more and…

“You’re ticklin’ my hair every time you talk,” Benji replies instead.

Lark leans around a shoulder and blows air against Benji’s ear, which makes him bark out a sound. He rolls onto his side, taking Lark and shaking him until they fall onto the floor of the van, in a terrible wrestling match that has them both laughing like rabid hyenas.

The shaking van and their loudly rough and playful sounds do not dispel the rumor that Lark and Benji are sleeping together, which is a rumor that has thrived since the conception of the band. And yet, the next day comes and Lark takes the first leg of the drive and Benji tells him;

“Just ask her on a date, already. Like, after this stint. Just go to a fuckin’ movie or somethin’.”

“She likes horror movies,” Lark replies, because she’d told him, just the night before.

#writing #lt #mmr #bp #lt x mmr #lt x bp #band au

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aspl1tl1fe · 2 years

Text

Setting Up Audre 2.4

Moving on from the Sunflower Fresh Market and out of the blue building to the brick structure nestled in the middle of the Franklin Market public strip.

This is where I’ve placed my Nectar Shop and Fromagore, which I’m hoping will eventually get a name, lol. I am thinking once I have a better idea of who all lives in Audre, and thus who will work/own this place something will come to me. However, I’m also open to suggestions.

So when I was taking a look at this world and kind of creating a mental build map, I wasn’t really sure what this section of the lot would be. I just knew I wanted tables in front of those large windows, so some kind of food/drink related establishment.

I don’t recall what exactly lead me to make this nectar focused as oppose to a café or diner, and even as I was working inside, I questioned if I should make it a different venue. I’m guessing as I imagined the courtship of my self sim and love interest, I also thought of date activities. Despite the fact that I don’t and have never drank, and have never really been (aside childhood trips) to any alcohol focused establishment, I imagine having listened to enough people talk about sampling wines or going to Napa Valley, plus well the nectar maker, made having a nectary in Audre seem natural. For me, I suppose, it also made sense for it to be near my grocer and bakery, although I can’t say the same for it being beside a pet shop, lol.

Here are some shots from just inside the front door:

The decision to also make this a Fromagore came as I was completing the first level. I was placing decorative items, and couldn’t figure out what to put in that spot beside the door. Around the time when I was trying to think of what goes with wine in real life I was catching posts on my dash of people tinkering with food processor that goes with @anitmb’s hunting mod so that it could produce cheese. Then I went, duh, cheese, then patrons not only have the option of sampling, buying and making nectar but making and buying cheese as a part of the venue’s experience.

Here’s a shot of the sale’s floor from behind and then beside the register.

Those red shelves are custom wine racks. I found them way back a little after when talking about how shocked I was that there were very few cc racks online. I can’t remember who created these, but I am grateful to have a modern alternative. Clearly, like the food selves in my previous renos, the racks are bare, as I have not stocked them yet.

Through the archway is a small sitting room, where guest can sit and enjoy nectar, cheese, and a good book.

I imagined this place would throw seasonal events, that encouraged large crowds to sample wine and cheese. That it would also allow groups to rent the place out for more private sampling events, and in between these, regulars might use the siting area to have a glass of nectar and some cheese while on a date or enjoying some solitary time while reading a book.

That couch ended up here simply because I downloaded it sometime ago, but never used it. I didn’t know that it’s limited in how it could be recolored, but managed to make it work well enough to go along with the atmosphere.

I’m not entirely sure I’ll keep the walls in the sitting room, or if I will replace them. At the time I moved on to work on something else I was satisfied. As I look at these images now, however, I don’t like the combination of the molding with that arch, and the arch is definitely staying, lol.

I think I will end with this shot of the sales area from the sitting room:

This reno is a two level shop. I think I have enough pictures of the basement to fill their own post.

More to come next week!

#TS3 #Audre #TS3gameSetup #ts3 gameplay #ts3gameplay #TheSims3 #TheSims #Pleasant Isle #@anitmb #anitmb

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ladyshandioftheendless · 1 year

Text

~My Beautiful Vampire~

Yes, I’m super late with this but what can I do when my brain doesn’t wanna work..even when I want it to? Please, everyone..accept this belated birthday story for our dear StarChild~ Kinda inspired by @sagii24 and their lovely artwork here. Enjoy! Header art by @comets-nix

~Shandi

I never thought things would turn out like this.

But life has a way of knocking you for quite a loop.

I was an explorer of a sort.

At least I used to be.

Until I went to a place where no one dared to go.

A grand, old mansion that was said to belong to a Vampire.

I didn't believe in such nonsense.

I thought Vampires didn't exist.

One fateful night, I was proven very wrong.

First mistake, overconfidence. Eric wanted to come with me, but I insisted on going alone.

Second mistake, I didn’t bring anything to defend myself. I didn’t think I needed to. Amateur.

Third mistake, not wearing more protective clothing. Why didn’t I button my shirt before I went inside?

I should’ve died.

I suppose fortune does favor the foolish.

The foyer was so dark I needed my lamp to see where I was going. But the architecture..it was fascinating. I would have to come back and study it further later.

The library was even more intricate than I could’ve imagined. Rows of dust and cobweb covered books that stretched to the ceiling. Various educational tomes. Novels. Atlases. Things that could keep the mind occupied for years. The one who lived here definitely had a thirst for knowledge. That was one commonality we shared.

While roaming one of the many hallways I happened upon what seemed to be the master bedroom. Strange. The atmosphere was..different. It was already lit by multiple candelabras and a chandelier made entirely out of the finest crystal. The bed was covered with purple satin sheets, a plush comforter and a lace curtained canopy. All completely dust free.

Definitely strange. Was someone still living here? If so I had to find out. On the opposite wall there was a large portrait. Is he..the one who used to live here..? He’s absolutely beautiful. Such sensuous eyes. Such full lips. Such gorgeous hair.. I’m drawn to him. Before I even realize it I’m touching the portrait, and it’s moving. There’s some kind of mechanism behind the portrait. Despite my better judgment I reach out to touch it. An eerie noise echoes throughout the entire room. I definitely touched the wrong thing. I’m a fool.

~*~

I should’ve run, but my feet were anchored to the spot. Don’t ask me to explain why.

The sound of old gears grinding against each other behind me made me turn around. The..the bed was moving! The opening glowed with an unearthly purple light. Was there..something under the mattress all along..? There certainly was. The last thing I was expecting to find. A glass coffin surrounded by roses. Roses that were still alive, and in full bloom. I then realized, the man lying in the coffin was the same as the one in the portrait! Well..nearly the same. His skin looked pale and cold, but his lips were still as red as the roses that surrounded him. Probably makeup. He must have been perfectly preserved. Such a shame to die so young. I suppose I should be the gentleman and give him a proper burial.

Just as I’m leaning over him..his eyes open.

~*~

All I can do is stare.

His eyes were no longer the soft brown color they were in the portrait. They were a devilish red. He looks at me, and he smiles. I can see the sharp points of his fangs.

He’s a Vampire.

“My..aren’t you a handsome one~ Have you come to satiate my hunger~?”

“W-what..?”

“It’s been centuries, you know. It would be wonderful to have some..fresh blood~”

He sits up in his coffin and stretches the small bat like wings protruding from his back. There’s a predatory hunger in his eyes that I cannot look away from. Am I already under his spell?

“Tell me your name, handsome lad~”

“T-Thomas..”

“Such a fine name..and how kind of you to make my job easy for me~” I can see his eyes drift down to my open shirt and my exposed neck. The desire to protect myself is nothing compared to his hypnotic gaze. I can’t move my hands. All I can do is plead.

“Please..don’t kill me..”

“Foolish, handsome lad..why would I do that~?”

“Aren’t you..a Vampire..? Isn’t that..what you do..?”

He scoffs and tosses his hair. “Perhaps if I were a savage. But you..you look too good to kill~ I think I’d like to keep you around for a while. Drinking pure, untainted blood such as yours will keep me young and beautiful~”

“I..I will not be your personal blood bag..!!”

“As if you have a choice~” He laughs, stands up and steps out of the coffin, careful not to crush any of the roses. “I am your Master now, dear Thomas~ You will be whatever I need you to be~”

Compulsion. That is all that’s left in me now.

The compulsion to obey.

“W-whatever you wish, my Master..”

~END~

#back on my Vampire shit~#KISS AU writings #Paul x Tommy

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its-deputy-caleb · 3 years

Note

If RE8 requests are still open, do you think you could do one where the reader is the partner/spouse of four lords (separately, not poly) who went missing years ago and they thought us dead. But then surprise!!! We’re alive!!! And just the whole aftermath of that? Sorry the description is kind of bad😅 (if you could include cute moments with the daughters in Alcina’s section that would be cute cause the girls need that sweet parental love lmao)

Okay so these are super messy and all over the place since i wrote this back to back with other hc’s so they’re unedited and make literally no sense but pls enjoy some angsty fluff with lots of lovin’ and huggin’

Alcina Dimitrescu

Alcina is startled by the sound of a knock at her door, placing her book down on the coffee table as she walks to the door, curious as to who is there. She wasn’t expecting visitors.

“Ooh visitors!” “I wonder who is there?!” “Could it be Uncle Karl? Or maybe it’s the Duke?”

Alcina would have scolded her daughters for being impatient if she wasn’t asking herself the same questions. However he mind is wiped blank when she opens the door to see who is standing on the other side.

There you are, standing in front of her after all these years. God how she had missed you. You hadn’t changed much at all since she last saw you and it made Alcina feel like she was hallucinating.

“Hello, my Lady-“

You can’t finish your sentence before you’re tackled to the floor by three teenagers. Cassandra has her arm slung around your neck as she plasters herself to your side while Bela is practically balled on top of you in a bear hug so tight it could almost kill you. Meanwhile Daniela has her face hidden tightly in your shoulder on the opposite side of Cassandra with tears streaming down her face.

Eventually with their mother’s persistence, the three daughters let you go so you can see their mother but not before you wipe away any of their tears and kiss all of them on the forehead.

Your heart skips a beat as you prepare your list of apologies to Alcina. You could only imagine what it would have been like for her when you disappeared without a trace.

The words never leave your mouth as she brings you into her arms and kisses you with a desperate ed’s that you matched. Your arms cling tightly to the fabric on her shoulders, never wanting to let go as her arms tighten around your waist.

You spend the rest of the night curled up on the couch in Alcina’s arms, she hadn’t let go of you once as you explained to her the nature of your disappearance. None of it really mattered though as you were just happy to be reunited with your family.

Donna Beneveinto

Your heart feels like it’s breaking out of your chest as you walked towards Beneveinto Manor, it had been literal years since you had seen your beloved Donna.

Walking up to the huge red gate, you see the familiar words “Give up your memories” on the plaque. With unsteady hands you place the photo you kept of Donna, Angie and yourself down by the waterfall into the letterbox.

When you eventually arrive up at the Manor, the seconds leading up to the door opening are gruelling. But your jaw drops when you see Donna. After all these years she hasn’t change except for the large scar that covers her right eye.

She instantly falls into your arms and begins sobbing as you hold her close. You place a soothing hand in her hair and whisper to her that it’s all okay, you’re here now.

When her sobs become little sniffles you bring her back to look into her eye, your hands on her face stroking her cheeks and simultaneously wiping away stray tears that fall.

“I’m sorry I left you…”

You bring her in for a gentle and tender kiss, one that is full of sorrow and heartache but is cut short by a screeching sound which you learn is Angie flying down the stairs.

“Now where’s my hug silly?!”

After hugging Angie, who now sits on your shoulder, Donna’s hand interlinks with yours and brings you inside. She shows you all around the house, what’s changed and what hasn’t as well as the new dolls and dresses she’s been making to keep herself busy through your disappearance.

You three end up on the balcony together watching the waterfall on the little wooden bench, Donna curled up to your side and your arm wrapped protectively around her.

Salvatore Moreau

Salvatore was making his way around the docks, checking for maintenance or anything that needed immediate fixing. It was just another ordinary day for him, just another activity for him to keep busy.

“I think you’ll find the oil for the boats need changing.”

Salvatore screams as he’s startled by you coming from behind, having not heard you at all. In the process of it he slips and lands himself in the water.

You lean down and pull him up by the wrist but after he’s out he doesn’t let you go. Sal stares blankly at you for a moment, not believing his eyes before he pulls you to him for a bone crushing and slightly wet hug.

Your shirt is now just as soaked as his but you couldn’t care less as you returned the hug. After five minutes he still doesn’t let you go, chuckling to yourself, you bring him closer to you.

“I missed you too Sal”

His face is mushed into your shoulder, mumbling about how he doesn’t think it’s real but you only remind him that soggy clothes are difficult to imagine.

You spend the rest of the night huddled under warm blankets in an effort to get dry and end up watching a movie before you fall asleep together, all the matters of your disappearance could wait as Sal is just happy to have you back in his life again after so long.

Karl Heisenberg

Karl is standing in the front of his factory, sifting through old bits of scrap metal to begin making a new design on the Soldats when he hears the gate open. There’s only one person who had the key other than himself… but you went missing a long time ago.

Thinking nothing of it, he places a cigar in his mouth to chew on something nervously, an uncomfortable feeling settling in his bones.

“Need a light?”

Karl’s head swivels to see you standing there with a cocky look on your face. His head dips forward till his glasses rest on the bridge of his nose and he nearly chokes on his cigar at the sight of you.

The item falls onto the floor as his jaw falls open, left completely forgotten as he approaches you and takes your hand in his.

“Is it really you?”

You don’t miss the way his voice trembles slightly but you can’t blame him. Karl had been alone almost his whole life before he met you and then he lost you too.

When you nod slowly it’s like a wall is broken and he falls into you, pulling you against him for an embrace.

“I thought I lost you…”

The words are whispered against your neck as he leans in for as much physical contact as he can get. Your hand comes to lace itself in his hair and you rub slow circles on the nape of his neck, weaving in and out of the strands there.

You stand there together for what feels like hours before you finally get to come inside the factory. In the living quarters, you and Karl are wrapped up on the couch together as you tell him all about what happened to you. All of Karl’s work plans are left untouched for an entire week as he refuses to do anything but spend time with you.

#alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #salvatore moreau #salvatore moreau x reader #resident evil village #resident evil headcanons #resident evil 8 #resident evil #asks #prompt

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obeymeoasis · 3 years

Text

Demon Bros React: MC Defends Them From Nasty Remarks

Warnings: Explicit language, MC being mildly violent (throwing/kicking things).

Lucifer

Lucifer had just finished some paperwork for Diavolo and was on his way to R.A.D to deliver it.

In the hallway he could hear two demons talking and laughing. As he got closer he heard them say "Lucifer" and instinctively ducked into a nearby alcove.

"Lucifer's such an asshole." "I know, right? He acts like he's so much better than the rest of us when really, he just has a huge stick up his ass. It's no wonder he doesn't have any friends. Even his own brothers don't like him!" "He'll probably spend the rest of his life being Diavolo’s little bitch."

He would be lying if the comments didn't make him angry. But it was far from the worst thing he had heard about himself and would definitely not be the last time someone spoke ill of him.

With a weary sigh, Lucifer turned toward the south entrance where he could walk in order to avoid the demons. He could have strode past and glared at them menacingly. He could have made them grovel on their knees. But he was honestly exhausted and looked forward to this day being over as soon as possible. Plus, it would reflect poorly on Lord Diavolo if he started a fight with some lesser demons over this.

Suddenly, the chatter of the demons was interrupted by a loud thumping sound followed by the sound of one of the demons screeching in pain.

Lucifer quickly turned around to see- Oh no. You were standing in front of the demons, rage clear on your face. The demon who had yelled in pain was crouched on the ground holding his bruised shoulder. A History of the Devildom textbook was open on the ground, pages crumpled.

Did you... did you just throw a textbook at a demon?

Before he could even move, he heard your angry voice. "Listen here you fuckers. How dare you talk about Lucifer like that. He's one of the kindest, most intelligent, most thoughtful beings I've ever met. And you have no right to speak of him like that! I love him!"

Lucifer's heart burst at your declaration, his cheeks warming in pleasure. The two demons however, who had been gaping at you in shock, were now beginning to look murderous. The injured one stood up and slowly inched toward you, a vicious grin on his face. "Oh, is that so? And what the hell is a weak human like you going to do about it?"

You opened your mouth to speak but before you could say anything, Lucifer picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. "Love, I appreciate how you stood up for me. There's not many people who have done so for me before. But any more would cause trouble. And also, please don't throw textbooks at others, no matter how much you think they deserve it."

With a smug smile on his face, Lucifer began to walk toward the dorms. You, however, were struggling to turn your head around, still yelling and pointing angrily at the demons. "This isn't over! Sleep with your eyes wide open! You'll be hearing from my lawyer!"

He really did love you.

Mammon

Mammon was at the casino on a Monday night. It was lively as always, crowds of people playing group games and others drinking and mingling.

But for some reason, Mammon felt like being alone. He was in one of the more quiet corners, playing the slot machines.

He honestly should have been back at the dorms doing his homework. He was here because he felt like he had to, but his heart wasn't really in it. Mammon thought about packing it up early and texting you to see if you wanted to hang out.

The sudden sound of glass shattering broke through his thoughts. There was some sort of commotion going on and Mammon could hear angry yelling and cursing, some kind of argument.

Like many of the other customers, Mammon drifted toward the noise wanting to see what had happened. His heart sank when he saw you in the middle of the crowd, still in your R.A.D uniform, arguing with an older demon who Mammon recognized as a regular. They had played some games together before that always ended in angry accusations. The remains of a drinking glass lay shattered on the floor.

Mammon quickly rushed to your side. "MC, what the hell are you doing here?! What happened?" Up close he could see how livid you looked, you were trembling with fury.

The older demon opened his mouth while gesturing at his ruined clothes. "This bitch threw a drink at me! I should have them arrested! Do you know how much this tuxedo costs?" Ignoring him, you turned to face Mammon.

"Mams, Lucifer told me to check up on you and you weren't answering my calls. So I decided to come in person to make sure you were okay. But then I heard this asshole saying terrible things about you to his friends, calling you a liar and a cheater and all kinds of horrible names that you're not!"

Mammon was shocked to see you were struggling to fight off your tears, your lower lip quivering. "I know how caring and genuine and loving you are and I couldn't stand by while he said those things about you! None of it’s true!"

Overcome with emotion Mammon embraced you fiercely, shielding you from the other demon. "Oh, babe. Ya really are a special one.” Mammon gently stroked your hair and whispered in your ear. “I don't care about what he said, but thanks for sticking up for me. I love ya so much."

"Now let's make a run for it so that demon doesn't kill us."

Leviathan

Levi was slowly getting used to being in a relationship with you in public. At first, interactions were limited to the privacy of his room: cuddling and watching movies, gaming together, reading manga together. But now he looked forward to waiting for you after classes and walking home with you while holding hands.

His face got really red and he had a hard time making eye contact with you but still, he thought it was an improvement.

Right now he was waiting for you outside your classroom, scrolling through his D.D.D to kill time. Suddenly, he heard someone call your name.

“MC, you’re dating Levi right?” At the sound of his name he peeked in the window to see you cornered by three demons. He saw you nod.

The demons began to barrage you with questions. “Why are you with a loser like that? Doesn’t he like never leave his room?” “He’s honestly the ugliest out of his family. I don’t believe that Levi and Asmo are related.” “You don’t actually find him attractive, do you?” “Are you with him ‘cause he’s like the easiest to control?”

Each word felt like someone was piercing his heart. These were all things that he had thought or wondered himself, days when the darkness seemed to win over his mind. But to have them spoken out loud, especially in front of you, it was unbearable. It was as if his lowest and most shameful thoughts were being justified.

He was afraid to hear what your answers would be. Biting his lower lip, Levi turned to head home by himself but flinched at the loud sound of something slamming into the wall. He peeked inside the window again and saw you standing there, furious, your hands clenched into fists. You had apparently kicked one of the desks into the wall, black scuff marks clearly visible against the white paint.

“Alright, listen here you despicable fucks because I’m only going to say this once. My relationship with Levi is private, meaning all of your questions can be answered with ‘none of your damn business’. But since you’ve gone out of your way to waste my time, I’ll let you know this: Leviathan is more beautiful, inside and out, than any of you will ever be in your entire miserable lives. I honestly don’t think you deserve to breathe the same air as him and I hope Levi summons Lotan to devour the three of you."

Levi’s jaw was on the floor. He had never heard you speak that way. He had never had someone defend him so fiercely. His thoughts were interrupted by the classroom door suddenly slamming open as you walked out."

“Oh Levi, tell me you didn’t hear anything just now.” Your eyes were wide and you looked at him nervously.

Levi grabbed your hand and held it tight between two of his own. “I did, but it’s alright. Thanks for what you said.”

“Anything for my Lord of Shadows.”

Satan

Satan was heading to the library, your usual after-school spot. Some days you two spent hours there doing homework, reading, or just chatting quietly about your day before heading to dinner.

As he approached the table he saw you sitting down with a stranger seated opposite you. Leaning closer he was relieved to see it was a classmate you were friendly with, someone he knew you hung out with occasionally.

Satan was about to say hello when he stopped at the mention of his name. "MC, are you sure it's wise to be this involved with Satan?"

He quickly ducked behind a nearby bookshelf. Satan usually wasn't one to eavesdrop like this but the question concerned him.

"MC, I'm asking you for your sake. Satan is dangerous. He's violent and cruel. There are rumors about him beating up other demons and doing horrible things to them. What if he tries to hurt you too?"

Satan flinched. Sure his wrath had led him to do some destructive things before, but it was never without reason. Is this how you saw him as well? His thoughts began to spiral. What if you grew scared of him? Of his wrath? What if you flinched at his touch? That would hurt more than any of the rumors that swirled about him.

Satan saw you take a deep breath before speaking. "Well, I appreciate you talking to me about this. I know you meant the best and were just thinking about me. But I promise you, you have nothing to be worried about. Satan would never hurt me."

He saw your friend shake their head, exasperated. "But you don't know that! What if one day he can't control himself and has an outburst or something?"

You replied carefully. "Satan is gentle. Incredibly so. He always treats me with nothing but respect and kindness. And Satan's not some kind of monster. He knows how to control himself and his powers. I love him. I really do. And until he decides to stop loving me, I want to be by his side."

He saw your friend huff irritably and get up to walk away. "Suit yourself, MC. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Satan took this as his cue to walk over. Your eyes brightened at the sight of him and you started to ask him about his day, acting as if nothing had happened. Satan played along for a bit, but then reached across the table for your hand and began playing with your fingers.

His hand was shaking. "I'll never stop loving you, you know. For as long as I live you're the only one for me. I love you, MC."

Asmodeus

Asmo was thrilled when you said you wanted to go dancing with him because he was usually the one pestering you to do things. He was having so much fun with you tonight, twirling you around on the dance floor and marveling how beautiful you looked under the shimmering lights of the club.

He was beginning to feel a bit hot, however, and excused himself to the bathroom, making sure you were safe on of the couches with a bottle of water in your hand.

Asmo had just finished touching up his makeup and adjusting his outfit when he heard two demons near the entrance of the bathroom gossiping loudly about him.

“Did you see what he was wearing tonight? He might as well have come naked instead of wearing those scraps of fabric he thinks counts as an outfit.” “My friend slept with Asmo once. She said he’s super easy, he’s willing to pretty much sleep with anyone.” “I bet him and that human won’t last another week. Once he’s done with them he’ll trash ‘em and move on to the next one, like he always does.”

Being the Avatar of Lust meant that Asmo had heard these kinds of comments before, whispered in the hallways at R.A.D or the dark hallways of nightclubs. It never really got easier listening to them though, and he realized he was biting down hard on his lower lip, his nails digging into his palm.

Asmo contemplated what to do. He didn’t want to keep you waiting by yourself outside but he also didn’t want to run into the demons talking about him. Their comments affected him more than he thought they would. Maybe it was because you were involved. He wouldn’t do that to you. You knew that right? He would never treat you like a plaything.

Taking a deep breath and steeling his nerves Asmo schooled his face into an expression of careless indifference. He took a step outside, ready to greet his "fans", but was surprised to see that you had gotten there first.

And what a sight you were. Despite being much shorter than the two demons, it seemed you were the least bit intimidated. Your glare was ice cold as you gestured wildly at the two of them, and moving closer Asmo realized you were screaming.

"How fucking dare you say such vile things? You don't know the first thing about Asmo. You're really going to shame someone for what they wear?! For what they do in the privacy of their bedroom?!"

You pointed angrily at the demons, who seemed too stunned to move or say anything. "People like you make me fucking sick. You're despicable! Talking as if you're so high and mighty when all you do is judge others! How dare you? You cowards!"

Asmo could see you were getting more and more enraged and your hands were beginning to tremble. He leapt forward to stand between you and the demons and put his hands gently on your shoulders. Once he saw that you were okay, he gave you a passionate kiss, his mouth hot and needy against yours.

You kissed him back for a moment but moved away to hiss, "Karens, Asmo! Karens in the fucking Devildom, who would have thought?!"

"I know, darling. Let's head home. We can have a nice, relaxing bubble bath together."

Beelzebub

Beel was looking through the menu, deciding between a couple of his favorite dishes. It was your one year anniversary and despite his insistent protests, you had remained firm in your decision to pay for that night’s meal. Ever since you and Beel began dating, he pretty much always paid for your meals together because of how much he ate. But tonight, you wanted to be the one to treat him for once.

Beel knew you had secretly been saving up Grimm and he’d feel so guilty if you spent it all on him. Which was why he was trying to decide between a couple of different things, when normally he would have ordered everything on the page.

“Babe, please order whatever you want. I can practically see the thoughts turning in your head. I told you that I wanted to pay for tonight and I’m going to keep that promise. I want this to be a special night for us, so don’t worry about it.” Before he could protest, you called the waiter over.

Beel sighed and knew there was no changing your mind on this. You were incredibly stubborn when you wanted to be. He rattled off his usual order as the waiter frantically scribbled down notes, struggling to keep up. Once finished, Beel handed over the menus and smiled at how cute you looked, a mixture of pride and smugness on your face.

But your expression soon turned sour as you heard the conversation from a couple sitting a few tables over. Their voices were intentionally loud and they kept sneaking glances at your table as if to watch your reactions.

“Oh my lord, honey did you see how much food that guy just ordered? What an absolute pig!” “I saw, darling. I honestly pity his date right now, they must be soooo embarrassed.” “Is there anyone who wouldn’t be ashamed to be seen in public with such a selfish glutton?”

Beel’s heart felt like it had sunk. Embarrassed? Was MC embarrassed to be seen with him? Panicking, Beel thought back to all of the dates he’d had with MC so far. He realized that they ate out a good majority of the time they hung out, with Beel eating his normal enormous portions each time. Oh no, what had he done?

Head bowed, Beel slowly looked up at you, afraid to see what kind of expression you were making. But to his surprise, you didn’t look embarrassed or ashamed at all. You looked like you were going to murder someone.

He watched as you cleared your throat and then began speaking even more loudly than the couple had been. “OH BEEL, MY HANDSOME, KIND, LOVING, STRONG, SEXY, TALENTED BOYFRIEND. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! YOU’RE HONESTLY SO AMAZING AND ONE OF THE QUALITIES I LOVE ABOUT YOU MOST IS THAT YOU’RE NOT A JUDGMENTAL ASSHOLE WHO MAKES RUDE INAPPROPRIATE COMMENTS TO STRANGERS ABOUT THINGS THAT ARE NONE OF THEIR DAMN BUSINESS!”

Beel felt his lips inch into a smile and he flushed with amusement and happiness. But you weren’t finished just yet. “EXCUSE ME WAITER?”

Your waiter practically ran to the table and looked between you two nervously, then at the couple glaring daggers in your direction. “COULD YOU PLEASE BRING US ANOTHER MENU? MY BOYFRIEND WASN’T FINISHED WITH ORDERING WHAT HE WANTS. OH BEEL, I LOVE HOW MUCH YOU EAT. HOW COULD SOMEONE BE EMBARRASSED OF A WONDERFUL GUY LIKE YOU?”

Beel took the menu and began listing some more foods at random, not really paying attention. He was too busy thinking about how much he loved you, how nobody aside from Belphie had ever stood up for him like that, had protected him like that. His cheeks felt like they were about to split from how much he was smiling.

When the waiter finally left, looking frazzled, Beel made his way over to your side of the table. He knelt down and nuzzled into your neck before giving you a tender kiss on your forehead. “MC, you’re amazing.”

Belphegor

Belphie had to admit, the gardens were a pretty nice place for a nap. Earlier in the day you had practically dragged him outside claiming that you were bored of sleeping in his room. As if that was even possible.

At first he was pretty annoyed that you were making him get up and move around. But the newly washed picnic blanket, the cool breeze rustling through the trees, and the light smell of flowers in the air all contributed to a very nice environment for a nap.

Belphie rested his head on your lap, already feeling his eyelids growing heavier. Your fingers gently combed through his hair, lightly scratching against his scalp, and he practically purred.

He guessed he had been asleep for about ten minutes when he awoke to the sound of your voice and something prodding against his knee.

Irritated at the disturbance, Belphie looked up to see two R.A.D students he recognized for always causing trouble. He looked over to see you scowling and guessed you had been telling them to leave so they wouldn't wake him up.

One of the students leered down, blocking out the light, and used the tip of his foot to poke Belphie's knee again. "Well the two of you make an odd fucking pair, huh?” He sneered, “Personally, I don’t date people who have MURDERED me in the past but what do I know? Love works in all kinds of mysterious ways.” You flinched as if someone had slapped you and Belphie growled, his hands curling into fists.

The other student leaned down to clap Belphie on the shoulder. “I gotta admit I didn’t know you had it in you, chief! I always thought you were...” He gave Belphie a once-over before adding “Well, everyone thinks you’re a bit fucking useless, eh? But I’m glad to see you’re capable of something.”

Belphie opened his mouth to reply venomously but was interrupted by the most horrifying sound coming from your mouth. It sounded like a combination of wailing and screeching as fat tears rolled down your cheeks. It was difficult to hear what exactly you were saying because of how hard you were crying, but Belphie could make out “How could you say that?!” and “Leave him alone!” among the screams.

The two students had their hands over their ears, their faces twisted into grimaces of pain. One shouted, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Worried, Belphie put a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to calm you down but you shrugged it off, continuing to cry and wail. Pretty soon other students began gathering around you, whispering amongst themselves and looking to see what all the noise and commotion was about. It was difficult to ignore you when you kept yelling things like “You’re horrible! Horrible! Leave us alone!”

The two instigators looked at each other for a brief moment before deciding to run off, not wanting to get involved any further. And as soon as they left, it was like a switch had been turned off. You stopped crying and screaming immediately. If he hadn’t been there from the beginning, Belphie never would have guessed that you had been crying. Your face was perfectly calm and you sat relaxed with your hands folded, the picture of innocence.

“Belphie, don’t worry about what those two idiots said. We’ve talked about it enough and we’ve both worked it out, haven’t we? And you’re not useless. You know how much I love you and care about you. You mean so much to me.”

Belphie leaned over to take your hand in his trembling one. He reached down to brush a stray leaf out of your hair before whispering, “MC, you’re fucking terrifying sometimes. I love you.”

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me hcs #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey levi #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me beel #obey me belphie #om! headcanons #om! hcs #obey me! shall we date?#obey me!

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bensolosbluesaber · 3 years

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Returning a Favor (Zemo x Reader fic)

TFATWS Ep. 4 Spoilers!!

Summary: When your old friend, Sam Wilson, needs your help in Riga you drop everything and go. You knew they broke Baron Helmut Zemo out of jail, but you didn't expect to bond with the villain. (AKA: I thought getting hit in the face by the Shield would at least leave a bruise. Here's how that would go down with a fourth person.)

CW: Blood, wounds, some creepy behavior (not from Zemo), a few Y/N inserts

No smut yet, just cute cuddles and taking care of each other. Maybe smut in the future though! Let me know if you want a Part 2 or added to a tag list for potential future fics! I think the reader can be any gender; I tried to write it that way and be inclusive, but please tell me if I messed up!

If you know me in real life, no you don't:) I write most of my fics on @aurora521 and write on AO3 and fanfiction.net under the same name. Please don't come for me about finding Zemo attractive.

Hope you enjoy!

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Returning a Favor

Meet me in Riga. -S

That was the text you received from Sam Wilson, your old military friend, yesterday. And now here you are, outside the Riga airport walking toward Sam in traditional undercover superhero attire- a baseball hat and sunglasses.

“Thanks for coming,” he greeted. “We have a little problem.”

“Is his name Baron Helmut Zemo by chance?” You asked, following him to a jet black sports car.

You were very aware of just what type of trouble Sam was getting himself into since you, a SWORD agent, still had access to all kinds of classified information.

“See for yourself,” Sam muttered, gesturing to the back door of the car and climbing in the driver's seat himself.

You hesitated for a moment, then opened the door and slid into the back. And yes, Zemo was there, lounging back with legs spread. He’s wearing a long coat with fur lining, a deep purple shirt, black pants, and shiny leather shoes. He nods to you and smirks ever so slightly. Bucky Barnes, who you had only heard about but recognized immediately, turns from his spot in the front seat and smiles at you.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Y/N,” he says.

“And I you,” you respond.

Sam pulls out of the parking lot with a screech of tires. The ride is mostly silent, Sam and Bucky bickering occasionally. That made you smile, knowing that as much as Bucky annoyed Sam, this was the type of relationship he craved. Zemo watched you the entire drive, sizing you up.

The home they’re staying at is obviously the Baron's. He’s comfortable there, leaning against the counters, rifling through cabinets, lounging on the couch.

“So what am I doing here?” You finally asked.

The three men interact easily, and either Sam or Bucky is always watching Zemo. There’s no real need for a fourth person to get involved, at least not in your mind.

“Someone needs to babysit the Baron,” Sam explained with an annoyed sigh.

Zemo shrugged with a smirk so innocent it’s sinister. He’s still wearing that ridiculous coat.

“The two Avengers can’t handle him?”

“I believe your friends find it challenging to be around me,” Zemo answered for Sam.

“You shot a man in the head yesterday!” Sam snapped. “You antagonize Bucky at every turn. Forgive us for needing a break from whatever is happening in your fucked up head.”

Zemo tilts his head as if agreeing with everything Sam had just said.

“Anyway,” Bucky interrupted. “We have a lead on Karli. You can sleep off some jet lag while we’re gone, but starting tonight it’s your turn to keep track of him.”

You settled into a small bedroom. The moment your head hit the pillow, you fell asleep. At home it’s nearly ten at night; here it’s midday.

The trio is back all too soon, heralded by a slam of a door, and you force yourself to wake up to adjust to the time change as rapidly and effectively as possible. As you open the door to the living room, Bucky is stalking toward Zemo. He grabs the teacup from Zemo’s hand and hurls it against the wall.

“You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?” Bucky growled, staring at Zemo with an unnerving glint in his eyes.

“Take it easy. Don’t engage him,” Sam jumped up and grabbed Bucky’s arm. “He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing.”

Bucky’s face softened slightly. Zemo stops tilting his head.

“Let me make a call,” Sam says and walks away.

“You want some cherry blossom tea?” Zemo offers Bucky with a mocking tone.

“No. You go ahead,” Bucky hissed, and after a moment of staring, he followed Sam out of the room.

You had watched Zemo for that entire exchange, noticed the slightest flinch and hint of fear when Bucky had grabbed that cup. The moment the other two men are gone and Zemo thinks he’s alone, he pours himself another cup. His hand is steady, but he draws a sharp, unsteady breath.

You move out of the room, and Zemo looks up at you from his spot on the couch. Without a word, you walk into the kitchen, taking a roll of paper towels and carefully picking up the shattered glass.

“I can do that,” Zemo says, speaking directly to you for the first time.

His voice is calm, accent thick.

“It’s alright,” you answer, then gasp sharply as a piece slices your pointer finger from tip to palm. “Fuck.”

You set the bloody piece with the pile of glass and hold a paper towel to your hand. You used the other hand to wipe tea off the wall and floor before picking up the glass piled on a paper towel and placing it in the trash, carefully tucked in other garbage.

“Let me.”

Zemo’s voice behind you makes you jump. You eye him for a moment wondering if there is some ulterior motive, some way he could hurt you or hold you hostage. Nothing comes to mind, not with Sam and Bucky so close, so you hold out your bleeding hand. He clicks his tongue at the wound.

When he takes your hand in his, his fingers are soft and warm. He moves your wound under a faucet and lets water run, rinsing the blood down the sink. He squeezes the wound a bit, and you wince as it begins to bleed more.

“We bleed to clean our wounds. It is the body’s way of protecting itself,” he says and presses a towel to your finger as he shuts off the water. “Ironic isn’t it. The very thing meant to protect us from future danger, often kills us first.”

“I’m not here to debate the ethics of superheroes with you.”

“Hold that,” he lets go of your hand and opens another cabinet. “I know how I feel about enhanced humans. There is nothing for me to debate.”

Zemo takes your hand back in his. You watch his face as he works. He uses his mouth to remove the wrapping from a butterfly bandage. The bleeding has slowed, and he uses the bandage to pull your torn skin back together. The cut isn’t terrible, certainly not the worst injury you’ve ever had, but it will scar. He adds two more strips, then places an absorbent pad over it and wraps it all in gauze.

“When we get back, I’ll change that for you.”

“I’ll hope you don’t get killed then,” you offer with a grateful smile.

He doesn’t respond but gestures to you to join on the couch. You do, keeping what you feel is a safe distance between the two of you. Zemo hands you a cup of warm tea, but as you grab it, he doesn’t let go. Your undamaged fingers brush his for a long moment and he chuckles.

“Promise not to take after your friend James? I quite like this tea set.”

Your eyebrows knit together as he smiles at his own joke and finally surrenders the cup to you. That’s the last words you two exchange, and when Bucky and Sam return ready for the next part of the mission, they find the two of you sitting in silence sharing a pot of tea.

___

When the three men returned, Sam and Bucky held an unconscious Zemo between them. You jumped off the couch, the book you had been reading discarded, and let them lay Zemo down.

“What happened?”

“John Walker,” the two men answered in the same disgusted tone.

You leaned over Zemo, finally seeing the blood and bruise on his right temple.

“This one disappeared for a few minutes, shot Karli-”

“Didn’t kill her,” Sam interrupted, sounding relieved.

Much like Sam, you sympathized with Karli’s motives if not her methods. And much like Sam, you were glad she hadn’t died.

“Then Walker knocked him out with the shield,” Bucky finished.

There was no jab at Sam this time for which you were grateful.

“Which is the only useful thing he did,” Sam added. “Zemo destroyed the rest of the serum, so right now he’s above Walker in my book.”

You looked down at Zemo, blood had dripped down his face and neck, though most of it was dried now. His eyelids twitched as he slept.

“Are you two okay?” You asked as you walked toward the bathroom.

“Fine. We ditched Walker, but we’ll need to get out of here as soon as we figure out what to do with Karli,” Sam answered, collapsing on the couch with a heavy sigh.

You dampened a washcloth in the bathroom and on your way back to the living room, grabbed the first aid kit Zemo had used on you earlier.

“What are you doing? He’ll be fine,” Bucky muttered.

He was sitting next to Sam now.

“Returning a favor,” you answered as you knelt at Zemo’s side.

You dabbed at the drying blood with the cloth, wiping it off his cheek, out of his hair. Somehow the coat came out unscathed. Sam and Bucky were talking about something behind you, but you were entirely focused on the unconscious man.

Zemo had a handsome, aristocratic face, and he walked like royalty, like he was untouchable. This was evidence he wasn’t.

You moved to the actual wound next. The cloth was soft, unreasonably so. A large hand wrapped around your wrist, squeezing tightly. You inhale sharply and shift your gaze to Zemo’s hand then his eyes. When your eyes met his, he seemed to relax, releasing you and letting his hand fall at his side.

“Apologies,” he grunted, mouth twitching with pain.

“It’s alright,” you answer calmly, very aware that the other men had stopped talking and were fixated on a potential threat. “Turn your head please.”

You put a hand on his cheek and turned him to face you to get a better look at the wound that was still seeping slowly.

“The new Captain America might force me to reconsider my stance on superheroes. I would enjoy seeing Sam and James have a go at him,” Zemo said as you prod the wound.

You wiped the cut with antiseptic, and Zemo hissed a bit at that but said nothing. Then, just like he had done to you, you placed three butterfly bandages on the cut. It wasn’t deep, just long and jagged.

“You’re my new favorite,” he joked with a little grin.

You laughed and walked to the kitchen for some ice. There were no packs, so you grabbed a bag of frozen peas, wrapped them in a towel and set it gently on Zemo’s temple.

“I can’t have you dying when I need this changed tonight,” you said, holding up a finger.

When you turned around, Sam and Bucky had both stretched out on the couch. They both wore annoyed expressions that Zemo got a whole couch and they got one to share. Bucky bumped Sam’s foot with his own, much to your amusement and Sam’s annoyance. He kicked his partner back, and you decided not to interrupt their little couples spat. Instead, you move to sit on the ground.

Zemo grabbed your wrist again, this time gently. He tucked his legs up, folding them into a V, and motioned you to share his couch. And you did, sitting in the same spot you had earlier, this time near his feet still clad in shiny black leather shoes.

“Hey, you two,” Sam called. “What’s this cozy little couch situation going on here?”

“You two could have a cozy little couch situation too if you’d just talk to each other,” Zemo shot back.

He didn’t even look at Sam, just held the frozen vegetables to his face, eyes closed.

“Y/N?” Zemo asked after a moment. “Can you get me an Advil? Or better yet, some sort of alcoholic beverage?”

“I’m not your servant, Zemo,” you sighed but stood and poured him a glass of some expensive alcohol from a bottle with Sokovian writing.

He sipped it, setting it on his chest between sips as he lounged on the couch with you. Bucky was watching you out the corner of his eye, and you were watching Zemo. Every few sips he would grimace, his lips pressing together and chest catching. Then he’d relax, exhale softly and shift the peas back into place. Eventually you picked up your book and began to read again.

Sam left the room to take a phone call a few hours later and came back shaking.

“Karli threatened Sarah, my nephews. I have to meet with her. Alone.”

“I’m coming with you,” Bucky jumped in, already on his feet. “Walker will be there, and you can’t handle the Super Soldiers and Captain Propaganda on your own.”

Zemo was either asleep or doing a good job pretending beside you. The pea bag had been returned to the freezer. He’d discarded his coat and was now wearing only his black pants and a deep purple shirt with shoulder holsters.

“You got him?” Sam pointed to the sleeping man.

“That’s what I’m here for,” you answered, setting the book aside and watching them prepare to leave.

Both men donned their costumes, Sam strapping his wings on, Bucky ripping the sleeve off of yet another jacket so his metal arm could move freely.

“Call me- us if you need backup,” you shouted after them, knowing full well they would do no such thing.

“If we aren’t back in two hours, take his ass back to jail,” Bucky called back.

Baron Zemo woke up the minute the door slammed shut, which made you doubt he’d been sleeping at all.

“And now it is only us,” he said in that thick Sokovian accent. “I will cook us something for dinner.”

He moved into the kitchen, boiling a pot of water while you watched. You perched yourself on the counter near him as he searched through cabinets. When he noticed you, he paused and chuckled before returning to the cooking. You watched in silence, keeping a close eye on him when he picked up a knife and began chopping tomatoes from a can.

He handed you a bowl of thin noodles with a thick red sauce. It smelled delicious.

“A traditional and simple Sokovian dish, a comfort food you might say,” he explained and joined you on the counter. “I made enough for Sam and James. Call me an optimist.”

Zemo didn’t talk much, you realized, as you enjoyed the food in silence. It was delicious, a bit like pasta. Suddenly, the back door clicked open. You glance around nervously, realizing just how wrong this felt.

“They shouldn’t be back yet,” you say quietly. “And they wouldn’t come in the back.”

“My old associates must have found me,” Zemo jumps off the table, and you notice the same nervousness as when Bucky threw the cup. He cannot know about James or Sam.”

You can hear a single person strolling toward the kitchen in heavy boots.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Zemo whispered, and before you could even process the words, he was standing between your legs and pressing his lips to yours.

His movements are slow and careful, trying not to be invasive as he moves his hands to your back, sliding one up to the back of your head. You wrap an arm around his waist and slide the other hand up the front of his purple shirt, splaying your fingers across his chest. His lips are soft and warm as they move against yours. His hand keeps you from pulling away, not that you’d want to.

“I heard you were back in Riga,” a new voice chuckled. “I had to see for myself.”

Zemo pulls back, feigning surprise, but kept an arm protectively around you.

“And as you have undoubtedly noticed, I am quite busy,” he replied. “Perhaps you could come back tomorrow? I’d prefer not to discuss our business in front of…”

Zemo nods to you. You were staring at the man who you recognized from work files. He was a former Shield agent. When Shield fell, he used the chaos for his own advantage, working for neither Shield nor Hydra and killing anyone who stood in his way. You suspected, but couldn’t be sure, that some of your best friends had been killed by him. Fortunately, you had enough self-control not to shoot him. His mere presence made you tense and uncomfortable.

“Of course, Baron,” he grinned and look at you in a way that made you shift closer to Zemo. “I’ll see you tomorrow, noon. The usual place.”

He gave the two of you one last look and left with a wink to Zemo. Even when the other man had gone, Zemo’s hands were still holding you against him.

“We will have to be gone before noon tomorrow,” he said looking down at you.

For some reason, you were both still wrapped around each other.

“You know who he is?” Zemo said, a statement masquerading as a question. “I am sorry.”

Your face was only inches from him, and you could smell his cologne. Zemo used the hand on your head to pull you against his shoulder. You set your head there, face turned into his neck, and inhaled deeply. And there he sat and you stood, hugging tightly for no real reason except that no one else was there.

Zemo pressed a soft kiss to your head, and rather than protest you let his lips linger. Finally, his head fell on your shoulder. After a moment, he slid you off the counter, took your hand, and led you back to the couch. Without asking, the two of you settled together on the couch, so close your sides pressed against each other. He pulled a gun out of his shoulder holster, and you froze until he set it down on the table, smirking a little.

“I don’t make a habit of shooting people I’ve just kissed,” he chuckled and raised an arm for you to lean against him.

You raised an eyebrow at him, surprised at the forwardness. You shouldn’t be, after all, he had just kissed you and held you on the counter of his kitchen. Helmut Zemo made no sense to you, but in the end, you curled against him. He shifted to lay on his back, head propped on the pillows he was laying on earlier while you tucked yourself beside him, head on his chest.

Zemo wrapped an arm around you. You put a hand on his chest, fingering the purple shirt. He was warm and soft, and you had to remind yourself that you could not fall asleep while you are supposed to be watching him.

“Why are we doing this?” You whisper. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why are you?” Zemo turns his head toward you.

“I haven’t had someone to do this with in a long time,” you answer slowly, cautiously, knowing full well this was a man who could turn on you on an instant or hold onto information until the moment it was advantageous to him.

“Neither have I,” He replied. “German prisons don’t allow much physical contact. Besides, I hope that with enough time perhaps I may kiss you again.”

You tilted your head up to see a grin tugging at the side of his lips, lips that had been on yours a few minutes ago.

“Maybe with enough time,” you answer and brush a lose strand of hair out of his eyes, letting your hand trail over the bruise on his face.

He caged your hand in his, bringing your joined hands back to his chest and holding them there. You felt the rise and fall of his breaths and it soothed you. When they grew deep and steady and the tension seemed to fall from his body, you realized he was truly asleep, not faking like earlier. Soon and against your better judgment, you were dozing off in his arms tossing a leg over his so your limbs tangled together.

Your last thought before you fell asleep was how warm and comfortable you felt with Helmut Zemo, and how completely ludicrous such a thought was.

It wasn’t long before the door opening woke you, still secure in Zemo’s arms. You tried to move, sit up so Sam and Bucky wouldn’t see this little arrangement. You failed. Bucky came in first, stopping in his tracks as he saw the scene on the couch.

“What are you doing? Keep walk- what?” Sam ran right into Bucky’s back then froze.

Their eyes were wide as they stared. Zemo shifted awake beneath you, and you could imagine the smirk on his face. Bucky’s metal fist clenched, and Sam, ever the peacemaker grabbed his arm and opted for a more amicable approach.

“One of you better start talking.”

#tfatws spoilers #tfatws #baron helmut zemo #helmut zemo #zemo fic #zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #spoilers #soft zemo #self insert fic #zemo x you #baron zemo x you #helmut zemo x you #zemo x reader fic #daniel brühl

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xjoonchildx · 3 years

Text

snapshot | jhs x reader

summary: after a day at the beach, hoseok has some surprises in store for his longtime love

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: fluff, smut, fluff OH MY GOD SO MUCH FLUFF y'all i apologize

word count: 4.7K

notes: this fic is a commission fic for the lovely @wwilloww as part of the @armyadvocates fundraising initiative to stop hate crimes against AAPI. miss willow asked for an old house, candles and soft smut as well as a mystery box. i did my best to deliver on all counts because willow is amazing and deserves all good things.

thanks go to @hobi-gif @ladyartemesia and @btsarmy9593 for beta reading parts of this story, thanks so much for keeping me on track ladies! a very special shoutout to @sahmfanficbts who helped me come up with a very *key* part of this plot.

warnings: no one dies? no one is in danger of dying? who am i? standard smut, unprotected sex. liberal sunscreen use. low air quality due to paint fumes and sawdust. references to yoongi, who we can assume is cranky offscreen, references to @untaemedqueen first suggestion of what was in the box.

Warm.

Hoseok is so warm right now, inside and out. He stretches his long body out on the length of his beach lounger, enjoying the feeling of the sun beating down on his skin. His buzz is mellow and pleasant. He lets his eyes drift shut, lulled into a lazy calm by the sounds he can hear all around him.

The steady lap of the waves against the shore. Kids laughing as they run around on the sand. Off in the distance, a bluetooth speaker thumps out a song that’s too far away for him to recognize. And after a few minutes, another sound.

Your bright laughter, carried to him on the breeze.

God, he loves that sound.

“You are such a lightweight,” you tease. Hoseok can hear the smile in your voice. “Two beers and you pass out on me.”

He cracks one eye open to find you standing beside his lounger. The early evening sunlight streams through the strands of your dark hair and warms your bronzed skin, bathing you in a kind of golden halo. He gazes up at you, languid and content.

“I’m not passed out,” he argues with a slow grin. “I’m relaxing. Come relax with me.”

Hoseok doesn’t give you a chance to accept his offer, leaning up to grab your hand and pull you down into the narrow space beside him. You laugh when he wraps his arms and legs around you like a starfish, pulling your back flush against his chest.

“I’m just enjoying the perfect day,” he murmurs, nosing at the back of your ear, “With my perfect girl.”

“Flatterer.”

Hoseok can’t see you rolling your eyes, but he knows you’re doing it anyway. Just like he can’t see the way you flush and he knows you’re doing that, too.

“We should eat,” you say after a while, shivering when he strokes the pads of his fingers up the soft skin of one bare leg. “Grab something before we have to take the bikes back.”

Hoseok hums under his breath as he slides his palm up the curve of your thigh, boldly searching for trouble under the hem of your sundress. You bat his hand away and he laughs, hugging you tighter.

“Alright,” he agrees in a whisper, ghosting his lips down the nape of your neck. You jolt in his arms when he sinks his teeth into the curve of your shoulder, nipping playfully. “Just a quick bite.”

There’s not much difference between a sundress and a négligée is there?

Certainly not from where Hoseok is sitting, anyway.

He studies you as he rides close behind, watching the way your hair whips in the breeze as you pedal. One delicate sundress strap slips down your sun-warmed shoulder, exposing just a bit more of your back. Then the wind grabs a hold of your sheer skirt, lifting it just long enough for Hoseok to get a glimpse of the pretty white panties underneath.

God, he loves those panties.

Could stare at them all day, really.

But instead he forces himself to pedal faster and take the lead, grinning when you take note of his advance and glare. It’s for the best because while you think this is just some meandering evening ride, he’s the only one who knows where you’re really headed. For the best because if he falls off his bike and breaks his face because he’s too busy staring at your ass, the entire night will be ruined before it has the chance to start.

It’s quiet on this street just a few blocks from the shore.

Dolmeori Beach is rockier, more wooded than the beaches preferred by most tourists and that’s always suited Hoseok just fine. When he was a kid, he’d steal away when the weather was warm and hop the train here from Gwangju any chance he got.

It’s always felt like his place, his personal piece of sea and sand.

Pine trees loom high over the pavement, canopies so dense they block out much of the waning sunlight streaming down from above. The shade beneath the leaves makes the heat bearable, but it also makes it hard to judge the time. Hoseok steals a quick look at his watch.

Right on schedule. He hopes Yoongi followed his instructions to the letter.

“Hurry up, slowpoke,” he teases over his shoulder, and he chuckles at the sound of frustration you make as you pedal faster to catch up. It takes a few seconds for you to coast into position at his side.

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” you fuss, “Wanna clue me in?”

Hoseok turns his head to smile at you, sly like a fox.

“You’ll find out when we get there.”

The realtor had said the place would need a little love.

Turns out, it needs a lot more than a little. But Hoseok was able to see right past the weathered wooden porch and salt air-worn paint right away. When he found this place online, he knew it was the one.

He slows his bike to a stop as the two of you make your approach, taking note of the warm light that glows just behind the frosted glass pane in the front door. Looks like Yoongi came through.

“What is this place?” you ask, skidding to a stop beside him. You stand over your bike on tiptoes as you survey the house, brow knit in confusion.

“It’s a surprise,” Hoseok grins, hopping off his bike. He shoves the kickstand into place and offers you his hand, which you accept with a suspicious smile. “Wanna go in?”

“Yeah sure,” you shrug. “We’ve probably already stolen these bikes. What’s a little breaking and entering on top of that?”

Hoseok laughs, leading the way to the front door.

He cringes when the porch floorboards creak loudly beneath his feet, making a mental note to put that project next on his to-do list. You stand with arms crossed, watching silently as he crouches down to lift the mat at the front door, fingers feeling beneath for the concealed key.

You stop him with fingers wrapped around his forearm when he gets to his feet.

“Wait,” you whisper frantically. “We can’t just walk into someone’s house, Hoseok.”

He chuckles before leaning down to kiss the adorable confusion right off your face. Then he slides his key into the lock and pushes the door wide open.

“Not someone’s house,” he corrects, watching you peer skeptically inside.

You step slowly through the threshold and scan the candle-lit front room before turning to him with wide eyes.

“Our house.”

“You bought a beach house.”

It’s the third time you’ve said it by now, and not once has the hushed observation been directed at Hoseok. You said it when you brushed your fingertips over the freshly-dried spackle on the living room wall, said it again as you passed your hand over the base coat of stain on the mantle over the fireplace.

You say it again as you turn to him, jaw slack with disbelief.

“You bought a beach house.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok admits sheepishly, uncertain of your reaction. He tries to see the room the way you must see it now, candles and tools scattered across the tables, floors covered in drop cloths, cans of paint and plaster stacked up in the corners.

Yoongi had done a decent job of clearing up most of the clutter before he left, but judging by the astonishment on your face, he’s probably been romanticizing the mess in here.

He’d really hoped to have a lot more done the first time he brought you here, but he’s learned the hard way that some home renovation projects don’t go as smoothly in real life as they do on YouTube. The process has been a bit of trial and error, with a lot more error than he’d originally counted on.

“I know it doesn’t look like a whole lot right now,” he says, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck, “But it’s going to look great when I’m done. Yoongi helped me sand all week.”

You shake your head like you’re coming out of a daze.

“Oh my god Hoseok, no -- ” you vow with a shaky laugh, “ -- no, this is incredible. This is amazing. I’m in shock.”

“Yeah?” Hoseok grins, relief melting over him. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I wanted -- ”

“ -- Wait,” you interrupt, one brow quirked high as you step closer. “You said… you said something important. You said this was our house.”

“Did I?”

You narrow your dark eyes at him and he chuckles uncomfortably, nerves kicking in for the first time tonight. The feeling -- and the occasion both call for more booze. Which he’s prepared for.

“Are you going to give me a tour?” you ask.

“Later,” he says. “After.”

“After what, Hoseok? You’re killing me slowly with all this suspense.”

“Hang out here for a second,” he instructs, ducking into the small kitchen. “I’ll be right back.”

It takes him no time at all to find the bottle of Moet he’s stashed in the fridge and the clean champagne flutes tucked away into the corner of his dutifully-dusted kitchen cabinet. He double-checks the contents of the box on the counter, making sure everything is in place.

Then he takes a deep breath.

Your brows lift in surprise when he walks back into the room with that box in his hands. You watch him set it down on the floor, saying nothing when he turns back to retrieve the champagne and glasses.

When he finally returns, you’re on your knees -- examining the package. Lips pursed thoughtfully as you press your fingers to the gold flecks on the fabric lid.

“Hoseok,” you whisper, flicking your gaze up to find his. “I have so many questions right now.”

You look so damned beautiful in this candlelight -- like you brought your golden glow from the beach indoors. Like you absorbed the sun’s rays and you’re emitting them now like some kind of superpower.

“Have a drink with me,” he murmurs, “And I’ll answer them.”

Something in the room shifts then; the temperature changes. The silly fun of the afternoon evaporates, leaving behind something heavy and heady. Hoseok knows you feel it too, when your half-smile slowly drops and you pull your lower lip between your teeth.

“Okay,” you agree softly, “Let’s have a drink.”

You watch him with those focused dark eyes as he pops the champagne. The drink bubbles over the lip of both flutes as he pours, on account of his haste and shaky hands. Then you take one of the glasses in hand and offer him the other, which he quickly accepts.

“To this surprise housewarming,” you declare, raising your flute for a toast.

Hoseok clinks his glass against yours, taking note of the way you watch him carefully over the lip of your glass as you’re tilting back the flute to take a sip. He decides he can’t keep you -- or himself -- in suspense any longer.

“You know how special you are to me, right?”

You make a face.

“Did you bring me to your new house to break up with me?”

Hoseok’s startled laugh turns into a cough and tears prick his eyes as champagne bubbles blaze a path up his sinuses.

“Yes,” he says dryly, once he’s managed to collect himself. “I figured dumping you by candlelight sounded like the most romantic option.”

You tip your head back when you laugh, light playing off the curve of your neck, your collarbones, the tiny gold pendant that sits in the pretty dip at the base of your throat.

God, he loves your skin.

Hoseok looks at you long and hard before lifting his flute to take a long drink.

“This is for you,” he says quietly, acknowledging the box out loud for the first time.

“What’s in it?”

“A human head,” Hoseok snorts, flinching when you reach over to pinch his leg. “Don’t be a pain. Just open it.”

Your eyes light with excitement as you smooth your hands over the lid and Hoseok can’t help but smile. But your excitement turns into confusion the moment you open the box and find the neat row of plain white envelopes inside.

“What is this?”

“Quit asking me questions,” Hoseok deadpans, pouring himself another drink. He tops off your glass, too. “And start at the front.”

You shake your head with a wry smile as you work the first envelope open, slipping your fingers in between the paper folds to fish out the contents inside. Hoseok sips his champagne as you produce the polaroid photo, head cocked to the side as you study it.

It was cold that day, he remembers that. You’d been bundled up in a pretty scarf and matching belted coat. In the photo, the mid-morning sun flares behind you, illuminating your profile as you squint up at a display of laminated menus.

“This is me,” you murmur, mouth quirking into a disbelieving smile, “At the coffee truck outside of work.”

“Yup.”

“We’d just started dating.”

“Yup.”

“How did you take this without me noticing?”

“Easy,” Hoseok laughs. “You stared at that menu for five minutes straight. I’ve never seen someone take coffee selection so seriously. Thought you were gonna order the most complicated drink in history.”

You roll your eyes but you laugh. So does he.

“Turn it over.”

You flip the polaroid over in your hands, eyes moving over the neat block handwriting on the back.

coolest girl i ever met

“This is the day I knew I liked you,” Hoseok murmurs, “Like, really liked you.”

Your eyes are a bit glassy when you look up at him now, the corner of your mouth tugging into a soft smile.

“You were that sure that fast, huh?” “Yeah,” he admits, scratching self-consciously at the back of his neck. “Yeah, I was.”

You move onto the next envelope, this time prepared when you pull out yet another polaroid picture. This one is harder to place, taken in the dark, mostly black but for a few splashes of vivid light.

“I don’t know this one,” you frown, ghosting your finger across one particularly colorful blur of red and gold. “I can’t make it out.”

You turn the polaroid over, looking once again for Hoseok’s neat block letters.

she’s into me

You laugh out loud.

“That was the lantern festival in Cheonggyecheon,” Hoseok explains. “I’d invited you, but you’d had plans, remember? And I was just going to get Yoongi to go with me but you called me last minute to say you’d decided to come.”

“I remember,” you say with a smile. “Yeri invited me to a movie, but I cancelled on her. I wanted to hang out with you instead.”

“Yeah, well that’s the night I knew you really liked me.”

“Cocky,” you smirk, reaching for another envelope. “But warranted.”

Your eyes light with recognition the moment you pull the next picture out. You’re crouched down at the edge of his mother’s koi pond, one finger making ripples on the surface of the water.

“First time we ever went to Gwangju together,” you muse quietly. “First time I met your parents.”

You flip the polaroid over.

pretty sure my mom loves her more than she loves me

“Okay, this might actually be true,” you tease, taking a sip of your champagne. “Your mom and dad love me.”

“Yeah, well that was the day I decided I loved you, too,” Hoseok chuckles. “The point where I kind of knew there was no turning back.”

You look up from the photograph then, eyes glassy with emotion when they find his. Candlelight flickering across your face as you look at him fondly.

“You still feel that way?”

“Hell yeah, I do,” he laughs, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Keep going.”

The next polaroid is a selfie of Hoseok in bed but it’s by no means sexual. There are dark circles under his eyes and his skin has a sallow tint. Next to his pillow, the bedside table is littered with cold medicine and empty cups.

“Is this when you had the flu?” you ask, flipping the polaroid over. The neat block lettering on the back confirms your theory.

she took care of me

“You were so pitiful,” you laugh, shaking your head at the memory. “Wrapped up in your blankets like a burrito. I swear, men have zero tolerance for discomfort.”

“I nearly died,” Hoseok protests dramatically. “But you dropped everything to come take care of me. That’s the day I knew you loved me, too.”

Your smile is brilliant now, open and sweet as you reach for the last remaining envelope. Hoseok takes another swig of champagne, slugging it down as you pull out the polaroid and study the image.

You are wearing your delicate sundress, leaned up against the wooden railing that separates the sand and rocks. Standing just next to your bike, nose in the air as you breathe in the salt carried on the wind.

“This is today,” you murmur, brows knitting together when you flip the picture over and find the back side blank. “And you haven’t written anything here.”

“Yeah, well,” Hoseok starts and stops, clearing his throat. “I haven’t had a chance to write it in yet.”

“Oh.”

“That’s the day I asked you to marry me.”

“Oh.”

You blink. Once, then again. Hoseok can hear the shaky breath you take in when your mouth parts in surprise. He sets his champagne flute down, sufficiently bolstered by the booze.

“So that’s what I’m doing right now. I’m asking you to marry me.”

You’re still mute with shock, eyes wide as they go from Hoseok to the picture and back to Hoseok again.

“But uh, the longer you don’t say anything, the less confident I feel about this entire plan,” he chuckles awkwardly.

You take him off balance when you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and your thighs around his waist. He keeps you both from toppling over with a palm flat to the floor, laughing as you pepper his face with kisses.

“So is that a yes?”

“Yes,” you sigh, pressing your lips to his temple, his neck, his jaw. “Yes. To you and to these amazing pictures and to this beach house. Yes to all of it.”

You pull away from him to grab the champagne, eyes flashing mischievously as you take a drink straight from the bottle. “Yes to champagne, too.”

Hoseok feigns shock. “Naughty.”

You kiss him deeply then, thoroughly, enough for him to feel the remnants of the carbonation on your tongue. You tease him with a barely there roll of your hips and his cock responds instantaneously, at the mercy of the warm friction he can feel straight through the thin material of his board shorts.

“You know what I’m thinking?” you murmur against his mouth.

“I think I’ve got a pretty good idea, yeah,” Hoseok chuckles, sucking a breath between his teeth when you bite the skin just below his ear.

“We have a lot to celebrate, right?” you reason, tone light. “But we came here for a housewarming.”

You lean back just far enough to pull your sundress over your head, tossing it carelessly aside, leaving you in nothing but those pretty white panties he loves so much.

“So we should warm it.”

Hoseok grins, pulling the champagne bottle out of your grip. He turns it up just like you did, finishing what’s left before setting it back down.

“I like the way you think.”

The only bedroom in this house is buried beneath a two-inch thick layer of sawdust right now.

Not that making it to a bedroom seems high on your list of priorities.

The fact that you’re both sitting on top of a drop cloth on Hoseok’s living room floor isn’t stopping you from threading your fingers into his hair, slipping your tongue into his mouth, grinding against his lap.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” you laugh, pressing your bare breasts to his chest once he’s managed to untangle himself from your limbs long enough to shrug out of his shirt. Your pebbled nipples drag across the lithe planes of his chest and his cock jumps in his shorts.

“Clever.”

“That’s me,” Hoseok murmurs against your lips, deft fingers slipping beneath the damp cotton between your thighs. He slides the pad of one long finger across your wet slit and you gasp, rocking against it.

“Gotta get you out of these panties,” he laments, pulling one nipple into his mouth and working it with his teeth. You shudder in his hold. “Quick.”

“What are you in such a hurry for?” you tease, circling your hips to chase the perfect pressure of his fingertips. “We have all night.”

“We have about three more minutes if you keep grinding on me like this,” Hoseok laughs, shifting your bodies to lean you back onto the floor. “So give me a break because I want to enjoy this.”

You lie back for him dutifully, dark hair spilling onto the drop cloth around you, skin gleaming in the candlelight. Your gold pendant twinkles at the base of your neck.

God, he loves the way you look like this.

Flushed with excitement and anticipation. Like a feast laid out just for him. He rids himself of those pesky board shorts as fast as he can, leaning over you on hands and knees.

“You’re gonna marry me,” he muses, burying his face into the soft skin under your jaw. “You already said yes, can’t take it back now.”

Your laughter is echoing in his ears as he trails hot, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck, across the bronzed planes of your shoulder. He can taste the day on your skin; the ocean salt and sunscreen mixed with that flavor that’s so uniquely you.

“I don’t want to take it back,” you sigh, whimpering when Hoseok kisses a path down the velvety skin between your breasts. He travels lower, kissing just below your bellybutton as he starts working your panties off with one hand. “I’m gonna keep you.”

Hoseok chuckles as he tosses your panties away, off to somewhere unimportant. What’s important is the way you take a deep breath and hold it when his mouth hovers coyly over your cunt.

“Look at me,” he directs, peering up at you from beneath heavy eyelids. You open your eyes to meet his gaze, candlelight dancing over your pretty face.

“I love you,” he breathes, lowering his mouth to make contact with your clit. The air leaves your lungs in that moment, a soft exhalation of air that makes the hairs on the nape of his neck stand on end.

“I love you too,” you sigh, hips jerking at the contact, fingers digging hard into his hair. “So much.”

He knows you by now, knows how you like to be touched. Your rhythmic panting goes a bit ragged, when he slides two fingers into your cunt, crooking up to stroke you the way you like while his mouth works your clit.

God, he loves this part.

The part where you lose any semblance of control. The desperate sounds you make when you start to come apart beneath his mouth and hands.

“Hoseok -- “ your voice is strangled when you call out, “ -- Hobi, I’m gonna come.”

Something about the way you say his name goes straight to his dick. He grits his teeth when your nails dig almost painfully into his scalp as you start to tremble, shuddering against his mouth.

“That’s it, baby,” he soothes, pinning your hips down with his strong hands, keeping you from pulling away from the pleasure that borders on pain. “That’s it. Sound so good when you come for me.”

Hoseok stays face first in your cunt, nose and tongue pressed against you, until he’s certain the last wave has come and gone. Between his own legs, his cock pulses painfully, leaking pre-come at the thought of finally being inside of you.

Your body twitches with the aftershocks of your release as he slowly kisses his way up your thighs, your mound, your stomach.

“How was that?” he asks with a teasing tilt to his mouth, stealing your ability to answer when he kisses you deeply, fitting his slim hips between your legs. He reaches down to grab his stiff cock, sliding it across your slick entrance. You clamp your thighs together to tighten the drag and he groans at the friction.

“Amazing,” you sigh, dragging your nails over his ass, up the lean muscles of his back. “Perfect. You should let me return the favor.”

His dick practically jumps at the suggestion, stomach contracting hard at the prospect of feeling your pretty mouth wrapped around it. But Hoseok is too worked up, too riled up by the alcohol and the excitement.

“Can’t tonight,” he pants, arousal shooting up his spine when you wrap one hand around his now-wet cock. You pump him lazily, trailing soft bites from his jaw to his shoulder. “Need to be inside of you.”

“Yeah, I’m ready for that too,” you admit, guiding the blunt head of his cock to your entrance.

He surges forward then, pushing past the tight grip of your fingers, groaning as he’s enveloped completely by your warm cunt. You whimper at the stretch, locking your legs around him, gasping when he bottoms out.

He pulls back to the tip only to drive in again, earning another strangled moan. You’re squirming beneath him, breathless and dewy, looking like some kind of wet dream.

“I’ll never get over how good it feels to be inside of you,” Hoseok admits, burying himself as deep as he humanly can into you.

You’re so wet he can feel you spilling out onto the base of his dick and for one fleeting moment he wishes you knew how good this feels for him. How wet and hot and tight you feel around him. How being inside of you like this makes his brain go haywire, reduces him to only instinct and need.

You lift your hips to meet each snap of his, the wet sound of your joining echoing off the walls in this mostly empty house.

He hears you moaning his name in between the other sounds you make, in between the panting and mewling that makes his balls tighten. You grip his forearms as he grinds against you, kissing you in between desperate breaths.

“I think I’m gonna come again,” you gasp against his mouth. “Don’t stop.”

“Oh, fuck,” Hoseok groans, pulling back to get to his knees. He hooks one of your legs over the crook of one strong forearm, using his one free hand to press a thumb to your clit. His rhythm falters as he watches himself slide in and out of you, hypnotized by the sight of his body joined to yours.

You lift your ass off the floor, back arching as you chase the pressure of his fingers. Hoseok strokes you desperately, feeling his orgasm looming menacingly at the base of his cock. It takes just a few more strained pumps of his hips to set you off.

The second he feels you clamp down around him, Hoseok folds back over you, arms braced on either side of you as he thrusts through his own orgasm. He shuts his eyes and groans as he empties his cock inside of you, thrusting until he can’t anymore.

He collapses onto you, heart racing as he tries to catch his breath.

“Don’t leave me,” you groan when Hoseok peels his damp skin away from yours to get to his feet.

He strides across the room, completely nude, grinning when you turn onto your side and go up on one elbow to ogle him.

“Just for a second,” he calls out, pulling out every unorganized drawer in the kitchen until he finally comes across a pen. “Gotta finish something.”

He makes a show of holding it in the air as he walks back into the living room, opening the gold-flecked box, and pulling out the last unmarked polaroid photo.

You’re smiling the entire time you watch him pen the last caption on the last photograph.

she said yes

tag list!

@japzalileo @dionysusrage @hey-itsmina @myimaginationsrunningwild @hauntedlilies @spring2787 @suppbeccc @veronawrites @minyoongiboongi @katbonv

#hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #jhope smut #jhope x reader #networkbangtan #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub

1K notes · View notes

endlessnightlock · 2 years

Note

#36 please? :)

"You're the first person I think about when I wake up."

Thank you @heathersaid <3

From the prompt list 101 Ways to Say I Love You

An alternate take on the time between the end of THG and the beginning of Catching Fire. Canon-Divergent. Rated T

The sculpted bronze water fountain in the center of Victor’s Village had been installed, according to Effie Trinket, as a gift for Twelve’s Victors for their contributions to Panem. The care the artists took crafting it, entirely with them in mind, was situated in the center of the rarely-traveled lane. The fountain was for their enjoyment- why they should be honored by the gesture!

Effie, of course, was full of shit.

Like their homes and everything in them, the water fountain was nothing more than a prop for the Capitol crews to shoot footage around. Twelve’s drab surroundings certainly weren’t picturesque enough for the viewers without classing it up a bit.

Couldn’t let anyone see the starving children or the emaciated elderly. It would be untoward to film the Star-Crossed Lovers in front of anything so crass as a row of run-down shacks— the “Capitol-provided housing” for most residents of the area.

Not that the water fountain held any meaning to Katniss. She gave very little thought to it and certainly wasn’t at that moment. It just so happened she finally cornered Peeta next to the fountain for a long-overdue conversation.

Catching up with him had proved no small task. Not because Peeta avoided her, which he did. This was the first time Katniss found the nerve to approach him.

Peeta and Katniss, The Star Crossed Lovers, were a big deal in the Capitol for their whirlwind romance, their oath to die together if they neither was allowed to live.

Forget about them being lovers; Katniss was concerned with salvaging some part of their wrecked friendship at this point. “I didn’t know it was real for you till later,” she admitted to Peeta nervously while he stood next to her in silence. He made her ill at ease, but she was the one who’d stopped him, waving the white flag so she’d better suck it up and get out what she needed to say.

She missed Peeta. She was mentally caught trying to explain that she didn’t want to pretend they were in love for the cameras, only to act like strangers at home. It frustrated her and left her feeling guilty that they’d spent all those years hovering around each other only to slide back into avoidance post-games.

Katniss didn’t care for people lightly. Whatever her feelings for Peeta meant, he’d lured her in with his kindness and now had a place in her heart. Their lives became irrevocably tied by both small things that meant a lot, like the friendship and coziness of time spent inside a cave in the middle of hell, and larger ones, like life-threatening sacrifices they made for each other. The horrors they’d survived and the misery of watching Peeta die behind an impenetrable wall of glass, twice, only for medics to resuscitate him.

Peeta was the only one who might understand the nightmares waking her at night so fearful she prayed not to fall asleep, the guilt, the constant state of dread she existed in, knowing one slip up could mean the destruction of everyone she loved. She couldn’t lose Peeta. She needed him.

“I thought you were playing your part for the Games. I thought you knew,” Katniss murmured. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I was only thinking about trying to keep us both alive. It’s what I’ve done my whole life,” she added as an afterthought. “I didn’t know until the interview that Haymitch hadn’t let you in on our plan. He didn’t give me a chance to explain things to you or talk to you alone.”

“I’m not a mind reader Katniss, although you and Haymitch have that skill in the bag,” Peeta said. He sighed. “I know you weren’t playing with my emotions. I’m mostly embarrassed. I should have known.”

“Don’t be. Peeta—” she wanted to tell him she cared about him, but that would just confuse both of them more because she didn’t know what those feelings meant.

“What I don’t understand is why you didn’t believe it when I told you I liked you in the first place?” He seemed puzzled. Hurt, but not angry. “I don’t know what I did wrong.”

Katniss laughed uncomfortably. “You were such a good actor, and everything in the Games is a show. You know that!. That’s why I didn’t know what to believe from you. We didn’t even know each other then. It didn’t make sense that you were interested in me. And you’re hard to read.”

“Me? I’m hard to read?” he said dryly, smiling at her for the first time in a long time. That parting of lips and flash of white teeth bolstered Katniss’s confidence.

“Look at how you got in with the Careers! You fooled them, and the Capitol audience loved you at first sight.”

“They only cared about me because of you,” Peeta said bemusedly.

“You were the one who gave them something to be interested in in the first place.” Sure they thought a lot of her now but during the pre-Games interviews? She hadn’t stood out from the crowd a bit. “They didn’t give a damn about me until the Games began,” Katniss felt like shaking some sense into Peeta. “We both know they liked “us” better than me. You’re a lot more charming than I am.”

“Oh yeah?” Peeta said drily.

“Yes, really,” Katniss had to cover a laugh behind her hand.

The smile dropped off her face when he shrugged. “Charming to everyone but you.”

“I think you know that’s not entirely true,” she said, breaking the silence that settled between them once again. “You never let me explain once we got off the train.”

“You don’t have to say that,” Peeta told her. “I was such an ass to you that day, and I’m sorry for acting so wounded. I don’t always know what to say when caught off guard. Sometimes I lash out.”

“I never know what to say either. Obviously,” Katniss murmured, thinking of the whys of how they found themselves in this situation.

He smiled at her admission. “I’ve come to realize that.”

“But you’re wrong about everything,” Katniss began, scuffing the toe of her Capitol boots on the cobblestone walkway for something to do. She wasn’t good at saying things, but to get Peeta to see; she was going to try. “You thought it was all an act, but It wasn’t. I was confused by you and my feelings. I liked our time together in the cave,” she admitted. “I liked kissing you.”

“You did?” Katniss could hear the smile in Peeta’s voice.

“Yeah. You were funny and kind, and you made me feel safe. You don’t know how much it meant having you there. After, on the way home, I hated it when you thought everything I did or said was an act.”

“You said not all of it,” Peeta took her hand, threading their fingers together.

Katniss exhaled raggedly. “Not all of it isn’t the same as none, you know. Not all of it means some. But it doesn’t matter what I feel or don’t feel. You’re wasting your time on me. I’m never getting married.”

“I didn’t ask you to marry me,” he said, sounding confused. “We’re sixteen, Katniss.”

She had to make Peeta see he was only kicking the can further down the road with that thinking. She couldn’t begin something she wouldn’t let herself finish. She didn’t have that luxury. “Sure, we’re sixteen, but we won’t be forever. And then what? I can’t let myself feel that way about you. I care about you a lot, but I can’t fall in love with you.”

Peeta didn’t answer. He had that unreadable expression on his face again. “Can you at least say something?” Katniss prodded nervously.

He sighed. “Do you want to try being friends? You’re the first person I think about every morning, and not talking to you or knowing how you are has been awful. I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Katniss admitted. “I’d love to be friends again.”

Peeta smiled, and the tension she’d been carrying around rushed away in a torrent, leaving her steadier than she’d felt in months. Overjoyed, she stepped into Peeta’s space and threw her arms around him. The last time they’d spoken, she never wanted to let go of him, unsure if she would ever have the opportunity again. Now that he understood, Katniss wasn’t going to waste it.

#endlessnightlock writes #everlark fanfiction #thg fanfiction #everlark #THG #canon-divergent in panem

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thesunicarusfellfor · 3 years

Note

Hey!! I love your writing. Can you do a Yandere! Ranboo, Tommy , and tubbo. where they are all in love with the reader and they kidnapped her to ‘keep her safe’ and the reader doesn’t know at first, then she slow realized they are obsessed with her. she like them back but she also want to live her life, so she tries to make agreement? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.

The Ranboo gif is just beautiful and I love it. Lemme see what I can do for ya! I wrote a bullet point Platonic fic if that's fine? I'm still worried about writing the minors in romantic relationships, even if it's the characters.

Sorry, it took so long... My burnout got really bad and I refused to even write basic stuff. But I'm back now! Well. Mostly.

Safe Behind Glass (Yandere!Plat!C!Bench Trio x GN!Reader)

You were a little groggier than normal when you awoke, but it was nothing to alarm you immediately.

Just simply brushing it off as you weren't feeling the best that day, you rolled over to fall back to sleep, but quickly noticed something wrong.

It didn't feel... Right?

The blankets... The mattress... The pillow... They weren't yours...

You peeled your eyes open and your expression went blank with fear.

The room was beautiful mind you.

But it wasn't yours either.

You were laying on a fluffy (f/c) canopy bed, surrounded by quartz walls that were dimly lit soul lanterns that prevented you from being completely swallowed by darkness.

Slowly dragging yourself off the bed, you heard a metal 'clunk' that hit the cold quartz flooring below you.

Turning your head to face downwards, you saw that a decently thick metal chain was cuffed to your ankle.

Somehow, your panic became worse as you immediately grabbed onto it and started to yank on the solid metal, but it refused to budge.

You had no idea how many minutes or hours you spent in that room. Reaching at the iron door desperately, yanking at the chain around your ankle that kept you from reaching the exit, searching the blue lanterns for anything...

But then, the white metallic door slowly swung open, revealing Ranboo, Tubbo and Tommy.

You weren't that close to them, save for a couple interactions here and there, but hey, they came to save you! That didn't matter in the slightest!

You almost cried upon seeing them and moved to walk over, but the chain stopped you from reaching them, and you noticed that they weren't moving to help you.

"You're awake!" Tubbo chirped softly, his tan goat ears wiggling with joy, "I'm glad the potion didn't stick for too long... You could've wound up starving if you stayed asleep."

Horror slowly began to set into your heart as Ranboo nodded and walked over to the dark oak table in the corner of the room and set down a basket of food.

"Ran...Boo...?" You whispered, watching as the monochrome male turned and curiously tilted his head in your direction, "Why... Am I here?"

Instead, Tommy stepped in front of you with a bright cheesy smile, the same one that resembled when he would find a new disc or start a new adventure, "For your safety, (N/n)!"

"Safety?" You choked out softly, Ranboo quickly guiding you to sit in the oak chair, "But... I'm one of the richest people on the server... I have god armour... Nothing could kill m-"

"Techno and Dream can." Tubbo interrupted sharply, halting you mid-sentence.

Right... That masked man... Or whatever he was... He was extremely dangerous, as well as Techno. They could likely pierce your netherite chest plate without even flinching at the number of thorns you had enchanted.

"We don't want anyone to bring you any harm... There's no problem with that, right, (Y/n)?" Ranboo smiled, flashing his sharpened teeth unthreateningly.

No... You wanted to say, but you wanted freedom! You wanted to expand your house to the size of a mansion! You wanted to bicker with Quackity about the stupidest of things! You wanted to get building advice from Phil!

Not be locked away because your safety was a tiny bit compromised!

"Tommy... Tubbo... Ranboo... Please, I'm not going to just stay locked away because I-"

"You'll see things our way soon... Eat up, get your rest." Tubbo smiled and gave you a hug, ignoring how you froze suddenly, before turning and skipping out of the room with the taller two following behind him.

Despite... How screwed up the three were with their methods of making you be their friend, it was working...

They were actually incredibly friendly and funny. It made life in capture bearable! Even though you were incredibly snappy and cruel to them in the beginning, they never held it against you.

Although... Despite their kindness and your quickly blooming friendship, you still had a craving to go outside. Even if what the three told you about everyone forgetting you existed was true.

"You look sad, (N/n)..." Tubbo murmured softly, watching you stare off into the blank quartz wall, "Are you okay?"

Tommy straightened up from his handmade scribble of a map, turning his head towards you in confusion. Ranboo stopped writing mid-word likely and looked in your direction as well.

They never liked it when you were upset.

You pursed your lips silently for a moment, clearly unsettling the males around you, "I just... Haven't been feeling too great... Both mentally and physically I mean... I need sunlight..."

"Yeah... I was reading about that earlier..." Ranboo hummed softly, adjusting his crown as he looked up at the ceiling, "But the issue is..."

"My safety... Yes, I know. What if, I wear my full netherite armour and keep a totem AND a Rapple on me? And also not leave your sides?" You bargained nervously.

That hadn't worked before. But then again, You weren't as close to them before...

The silence that fell upon the room was unsettling and caused your heart to race quickly. If they didn't like what you said, you would be alone for a few straight days... You didn't like it...

"Okay."

What.

That worked?

You just had to ask?!

You watched as Tubbo stood up and pulled the small ender chest from his pocket and set it on the ground, causing it to grow to normal size.

Standing aside, he made a gesture for you to open it and get your stuff.

Hesitantly, You walked over and kneeled down in front of the ender chest. Looking to Tubbo and the others for confirmation, you slowly opened it once they nodded.

Carefully, you began pulling out your armour but paused seeing the lack of golden apples and totems.

Right... Before you had gotten kidnapped by the group, you had used a totem when you fell into the L'Manhole where L'Manberg once was.

That what caused them to kidnap you...

"I-I used... My totem... And Fundy stole my Rapple..." You murmured hesitantly, feeling ready to cry.

Your only chance to escape and you couldn't grab it...

"Hey! Hey! Don't cry! Here!" Ranboo eagerly held the two golden items out towards you at the first sight of tears gathering under your eyes.

"What...?"

"(Y/n)! We want you to be happy! If being outside, even with god armour, rapples and totems, makes you happy, then damn well we're bringing you outside!" Tommy grinned.

After a few tears and lots of hugs, Tubbo helped you hop into your armour while Ranboo unlocked the chain cuff from around your ankle. Tommy had left, leaving the door open for once, going to scout the area for any dangerous mobs.

"Ready?" Ranboo smiled, linking one of his arms with yours, the one that you held the totem in to be more specific. Tubbo happily linked his arm with the other one.

You could only nod, your voice caught in your throat as they began to walk you out the door, Ranboo had to duck down a lot, before leading you to the quartz stairway.

Once up the stairs, Tubbo pressed in a code to the iron door and it slid open quickly, causing you to flinch and pinch your eyes shut at the bright painful light of the sun.

It took about twenty minutes of trying to adjust to the sunlight with the two males encouraging you before you were able to look around.

It was everything you had missed...

The sunlight...

The trees...

God, it was perfect...

Tommy eventually came out of the tree line and sat down beside you as you took it all in...

Months, you were down there. And sure, they gave you plenty of decorations to prevent you from experiencing sensory deprivation, nothing could ever compare to the beauty of the outside world.

A voice cut through the air -calling for someone or something named Fran?- and you almost didn't recognize it. But then the owner came out of the trees, almost a similar direction that Tommy came from earlier.

Sam? He looked so... Different now...

The creeper hybrid slowly lowered his gas mask to show his mouth dropped in shock, "(Y/n)...? You're alive...?"

Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo were freaking out, trying to bring you back into the bunker, as they called it, but you weren't budging. You hadn't seen another being in ages... And while you did platonically love the three boys, you enjoyed hearing a new voice.

"You... Remember me? But... Tubbo you said-" You frowned at the goat hybrid as they stopped suddenly, realizing that you weren't moving.

"You three... Kept them locked away... For almost an entire year?" Sam's voice was getting a little bit scary now, but it wasn't directed at you, instead, at your best friends...

"Sam! It was to protect them! Please!" Ranboo tried, but he wasn't making it better.

"You made Quackity believe they ran away... Made Philza wake up every morning and walk through the SMP for any signs of them... Gave Puffy false information on where you have last seen them... lied to everyone... Only to be the reason that they were gone." Sam growled out, gripping his trident, "Then you proceeded to make them think we all forgot about them..."

"S-Sam... You've got this all wrong big man..." Tubbo tried next...

The warden wasn't listening as he pointed his trident at them, his communicator in his other hand next to his mouth, then he started speaking, causing his voice to come out of Ranboo's, Tubbo's and Tommy's pockets. He was speaking on the public channel.

"Tommy Innit, Tubbo Underscore, Ranboo Beloved... You are being placed in the prison, Pandora's Vault, for keeping (Y/n) (L/n) imprisoned in a bunker and lying about their whereabouts."

It felt like someone splashed you with cold water...

#tommyinnit x reader #dream smp x reader #yandere tommyinnit #yandere tommyinnit x reader #yandere tubbo x reader #yandere tubbo #dsmp #tommyinnit dreamsmp #tubbo dreamsmp #ranboo dream smp #tommyinnit dream smp #tubbo dream smp #c!tommyinnit #c!tommy #c!tubbo #yandere ranboo x reader #yandere ranboo #c!ranboo

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perseusjackson-jasongrace · 3 years

Text

look i didn’t want to be a sour kid

god, it's brutal out here: and percy jackson knows what that means. scars on his body like pulled threads. calluses on his palms from pens that turn into swords, coins that turn into weapons, hands that curl into fists. walking home after an annoying day at school and having to fight the troll on the bridge. you must give me something in order to pass my territory. he gives it death. it gives him another shirt to wash blood stains out of. gods with too much arrogance giving him quests with too little return policy. body that doesn't want to cooperate after he blows up a mountain. body that wants to move too fast when he needs to follow a plan. heart that gets broken and rebuilt with different materials every day. god it’s brutal out here: and percy jackson knows it’s brutal in here too.

traitor: and percy jackson has never felt a word more like a branding in his entire life. he thinks back to the summer he turned thirteen and he sees scorpion tails flashing behind his eyelids. and he sees blonde hair and sometimes he can't differentiate between her and him and them and him. and he sees a scar and he wonders if the cut was deep enough to lose goodness. and he thinks maybe he wouldn’t have minded so much if someone had just told him what was going on. and that makes him a traitor too. and he sees it now, how easily he would succumb to the scorpion tail. how he would welcome the bliss of losing his goodness. who’s to say it’s true goodness anyway? and he remembers the red curls and the summer of beach walks and glass houses and the look of betrayal when plastic hairbrush meets yankees cap. is he a traitor then? to his own feelings? surely not. must be. neither of them liked it. he liked them. traitor, but to who? and remembers the day he left a girl on an island and promised to help her and couldn’t in the end. he remembers eyes of fire at his incompetence. and he is a betrayer. but only to others. traitor: and percy jackson thinks he’s never really betrayed anyone but himself.

got my driver’s license: and percy jackson is growing up so fast his limbs can't keep up. one leg is slightly longer than the other and it makes him clumsy. his left hand is bigger than his right and he uses it to punch. he flies a pegasus for the first time and he understands why mortals are always so angry. they will never know this unbridled freedom. and he gets kissed by a girl and he thinks his skin understands the heat of the sun. and his hair becomes curls instead of waves and he has to clip it> push it> tie it back because it keeps getting in his eyes. and his mom asks him if he wants “blue cake this year?” and he has to tell her he’ll never be too old for it because she’s scared he’s going to grow out of her love. he is not. and paul teaches him how to read a book without feeling like his eyes are drowning and he can’t believe he’s learning to read in high school. and he is moving through the days like water, finding a way around everything. got my driver’s license: and percy jackson knows it’s only a matter of time before he gets a death sentence too.

it’s always one step forward and three steps back: and percy jackson is waking up with no sense of who he is. he is carrying a goddess on his back and he doesn’t even know who his mother is. he is stepping across a river and erasing the curse of indestructible. he is again a demigod with too much vulnerability and not enough care. and he is being flung to an island where time doesn’t move and he doesn’t want to either. and he is healing like he never has before. and he is leaving and not even the girl who loves him can keep him there because he loves another girl and she doesn’t know she loves him back. and he is taking the sky from a friend and he is giving the sky to a goddess and he is leaving a hunter to see the stars and he is watching a new hunter evade the fate they are cursed with. and he was relieved from this burden for one brief second in time. burden of what? burden of sky? burden of prophecy? burden of death? and they are all handed back to him, presented with no other option. they are not the weights in the balancing scale. they are the scale and he is the weights. one step forward and three steps back: and percy jackson wonders if he can go far back enough to erase his own existence.

i know you get déjà vu: and percy jackson is hurtled to summers spent in a camp, next to a girl, next to a satyr, next to a friend. and he is living his life in montauk with his mom and he is watching red hair fly in the wind, paint smudges on their skin. and he is remembering how everything is different every year but he can still see the fire wall from his cabin and the smell of wild strawberries is the only thing his scent receptors know how to identify. and he knows solstice could bring death or happiness and he’s starting to think one doesn’t exist and one exists too much. and he sees people who love him and show it in ways he knows. blue candy has never been a complicated feeling. and doesn’t see people who love him in ways he doesn’t know. seaweed brain, let me come with you into the labyrinth, become praetor with me. and he thinks his childhood disappeared the day his mother was kidnapped and is it possible to have déjà vu if you’ve never lived enough to experience something once. and he thinks maybe the god of the sun gets déjà vu every time he pulls the star across the sky because it’s all about warmth isn’t it? your body’s way of saying we’ve been here before and we survived. i know you get déjà vu: and percy jackson is sure he has lived a thousand lives in this one alone.

good for you: and percy jackson is craving a life that doesn’t involve this madness. he is jealous of the kid in his science class that accidentally knocks over the bunsen burner and only gets a disapproving look from the teacher. his nose bleed starts a war. he is jealous of the neireids that simply become the water and wait for the world to stop burning itself to the ground. you look happy and healthy and he looks like he’s missing five years of his life and no way of moving forward. he is tired and he wants to sleep but the last time he did that it was six months later and he couldn’t remember anything. and he wants to sink to the bottom of the ocean but he is still exhaling mud because he drowned in sludge once. and he is too young to be this exhausted but. good for you: and percy jackson wants to become the villain.

all i ever wanted was to be enough for you: and percy jackson is struggling with the expectations people who don't know him want him to have. he is twelve and the teacher hands back a test face down and he knows he’s going to shove it into the pit of his bag before he can be scathed by a red pen. he is thirteen and his mother has finally given herself the hero ending she deserves but he is still this little kid who doesn’t know how to handle the world and if she doesn’t need him to protect her what is his purpose? he is a teenager watching people have silent conversations about his fate and getting no replies when he asks too. as if it is ridiculous to involve himself in these discussions. he can't be the one, it’s not possible. and wait she is here, from her tree grave. no, she is gone, to her hunter fate. wait they are here from their timeless casino. no she is gone and he is young. far too young. and he can’t do this and he can’t do that and he isn’t there yet, not powerful, too reckless, too loyal. the monsters realise his potential and use it to hurt him. the people don't realise his potential and wish he would use it. all i ever wanted was to be enough for you: and percy jackson is too far gone to be of use.

i hope you're happy, but don't be happier: and percy jackson cannot fall in love unless it’s with her. and he has seen the beauty of people and he wants to keep them all close and he doesn’t know how to do it because she keeps him in her grasp. deathly afraid of spiders she says but she has built a web so big he can't move without getting caught. and he goes to a scorned girl on a secluded beach and he likes the way her eyes sparkle in the sun, how she plants the same way his mother does and he leaves her there because she doesn’t have a storm in her gaze. and he loses his memory and remembers only her and he knows it’s inescapable. and maybe he kind of loves it. nobody has ever really given him a choice anyway. at least this one he can love. i hope you're happy, but don't be happier: and percy jackson has never known happier anyway.

jealousy, jealousy: and percy jackson is surrounded by the best. he is in a camp dedicated to people like him and he is still at the bottom. and he is on a quest that makes him the main perpetrator but he is still being puppeted along. and he cant help but wonder if he will turn out like the boy with the scarred face. and he cant help but wonder if he’ll turn out like the girl who grabbed a figurine. and he can't help but wonder if he’ll become a monster or a hero and what’s the difference really. everyone is fighting for a cause. it’s just the matter of whose side you're on. and he wants to know what will happen if he just lets go. he wants to be like the people who follow their cause. instead he is doing biddings. he is following orders. he is making things right. jealousy, jealousy: and percy jackson wants to know if he can be jealous of his own dreams.

i hope i was your favorite crime: and percy jackson is a little kid with a long record. he is on the news plastered as a criminal endangering others, blowing up a bus. it is not the last destruction he causes. he learns to get clever about it. and he is on the news sobbing about his generous stepdad. generous about the bruises he administers, and the words he spits. generous about his appliances. and he is on the news for jumping off a bridge too high to survive. and he doesn’t really know if he will survive but when is he ever really sure he’s going to survive anyway? at least this was a choice. and he is always a criminal unable to plead his innocence. i hope i was your favorite crime: and percy jackson wonders if anyone cares about the injustices against him.

you're okay: and percy jackson is staring at his reflection in the rippling water and he knows it’s time to forgive himself. he was just a child. with far too much responsibility and far too much guilt. he had seen death before he’d had his first kiss. he had felt pain before he felt comfort. he had never known safety. and now he is old enough to go wherever he wants and do whatever he wants and he has to forgive himself first. because he was just a kid with a hundred targets on his back and only a fierce need to survive protecting him. you’re okay: and percy jackson knows he will be.

#percy jackson #percy jackson bday 2021 #percy jackson bday #pjjg percy jackson bday #percy #jackson #pjo #hoo #olivia rodrigo #sour #sour olivia rodrigo #if you repost this on instagram please take my pjo account: perseusandjason #thank you!#*lmao tag not take wow tumblr why do you hate me

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unwrittenlibrary · 3 years

Text

be still my foolish heart (don’t ruin this on me)

Summary: bucky barnes doesn’t have very many people left in his life who care, but he has you... or; five times you and bucky show your love & the one time you finally say it. (bucky x fem!reader)

Words: 4.3K

Warnings: fluff & pining. no major spoilers of tfatws.

Notes: hi! i was going to try and maintain separate accounts to keep my writing organized, but i am lazy and can’t switch back and forth all the time. so! here’s to me now being a multific blog! i hope this does not upset my current followers (and maybe brings some new ones in) this was originally posted my ao3 . happy reading!

You’re the only person who calls him James. It fluctuates between Buck and James, but either way, you’re the only person allowed to call him either.

He thinks his name just sounds so pretty coming from your mouth. He doesn’t want to hear anything else. Doesn’t really want you to call him Bucky because then it won’t sound right when anybody else does.

So you’re the only person that calls him James. The only person he lets call him James.

“James.” You say softly as he falls onto your couch. He’s got a black eye and a busted lip and he knows there’s nothing he can say to quell your worry. So he settles with a smile that causes a wince that makes you let out a breathless laugh. “I told you to be more careful.”

You sit on your coffee table across from him and lean forward with the washcloth in your hand. His eyes fall to his lap and he nods. “You should see the other guy.”

You shake your head tensely as you gently wipe at the dried blood carefully to avoid the bruise still forming. “James. I’m serious. You’re not invincible.” He raises an eyebrow and you sigh. “You may be a super soldier, but you can still get hurt. I hate seeing you hurt.”

You lean back and drop the cloth onto the table next to you. “I know, doll.” You shake your head at the nickname and he smiles. You had told him you thought it was corny, but as long as you called him James, he would call you doll.

And he knew you secretly liked the nickname.

The same way you knew he secretly liked to hear his name when you said it.

“I have some vaseline in the bathroom. We can put it on your lip and then you need to get some sleep.” You pull him by his hand down your hall.

He glances out the window of your bedroom before you pull him into the bathroom. “I don’t need to sleep, the sun is still out.” He says quietly as you search through your cabinet.

You look up sharply. “You need sleep. I’ll be right here, okay?” You stand up straight and lift some vaseline with a q-tip. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.” Your eyes focus in as you gently apply the vaseline to Bucky’s lip.

He has to force himself not to smile. The cut will be gone by tomorrow and this will have been all for naught as it won’t affect how it heals. He appreciates the comfort it gives him. He relishes in the warmth that came with your care and love for your friends.

You step away with a proud smile. “I think I’m supposed to do the protecting, doll.” He says quietly. He desperately wants to reach his hands out and settle them on your waist.

Feel the warmth through your worn out sweatshirt and pull you close. But he doesn’t, afraid of something but unsure of what exactly, so he smiles graciously.

“We protect each other, James. In different ways.” You say just as quietly.

It’s all Bucky needs to get a couple comfortable hours of sleep in your room.

II.

He calls you every night. Or at least he tries to when he’s not in DC. Sometimes they’re so busy he doesn’t get the chance.

Tonight was one of those nights. He stares desperately down at his phone, urging the time to change so it was earlier in the night. He couldn’t call now. Not in the middle of the night when he knew you were asleep.

“You gonna go to bed?” Sam asks quietly from his spot in the living room. He’s been sitting silently with Bucky since they returned to the hotel, but Bucky could tell he was exhausted.

Bucky nods. “I’ll sleep out here.” He says quietly and unwilling to claim a bed. He couldn’t sleep in one for a full night, he could barely nap in yours when you forced him to rest.

Sam frowns and they both know he understands Bucky’s fear of the too big and too soft bed sitting empty in the other room. But the man nods before disappearing into his room and shutting the door behind him.

Bucky rests his head against the back of the couch and begins to take deep breaths. His phone vibrates in his hand and his eyes widen when he sees your name flash across the screen.

He doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Doll? What’s got you up so late?”

You laugh quietly. “Just knew you needed me.” You say after a moment of silence. “We’ve got that telepathy. I know things.”

Bucky laughs softly. “Yeah? You just knew?” He finds himself believing your words, even though he knows the more likely scenario is that you couldn’t sleep either.

You sigh into the phone and Bucky shuts his eyes again. “Sam texted me, but I was already awake. I switched shifts with the night nurse today, so I’ll be awake all night.”

“You know you don’t have to call when you’re at work.” Bucky says quietly. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

You laugh. “I have a few minutes to myself while the other nurse mans the station. Most of the kids are asleep, so I can spare some time for you. Especially when you need me.”

Bucky nods for a second before realizing you wouldn’t be able to see it. “Thank you.”

“What’s wrong, James?” You ask in a whisper. He listens for a moment as you take a sip of something, probably your water, before deciding to answer.

“This is longer than I thought I’d be gone…” He trails off. Him and Sam were originally only supposed to be in New York for a few days, a week tops, but this mission had dragged on and it had already been almost two weeks. “I…” He trails off.

He missed home. Something he’d never thought he’d think of DC as. Brooklyn had been his home and he was only a bridge away. Brooklyn had been his home. Steve. Wakanda for a short period of time.

But Steve was gone. And he was no longer recovering under the Wakandans graceful care. Brooklyn was a distant memory and DC… Well DC had you. And at some point you had become home for him.

“I know.” You say quietly, like you understand his silence. You do, he supposes. You understand almost every part of him. You understand that he missed you and home , but that he still struggles to admit his feelings. “I miss you too, James.”

He doesn’t say anything in response, but he doesn’t really have a chance to. He hears a siren in the background then you rush out, “Shit. I have to go!” Then all that’s there is a dial tone. Bucky smiles though. You’re off to be a different kind of hero.

He sits in silence and lets your words wash over him. It was new having all these people who cared about him. Decades all alone and treated as a weapon made learning to let people in again a new kind of difficult.

But it didn’t feel as hard with you there to help, he thinks

III.

He has to force himself to keep his eyes open. His nightmares had been particularly awful this week, and now he was sitting beside your heavily asleep body.

He was stuck staring at the repeating trailer on the netflix screen. Logically, he knows he could close his eyes and rest his head against yours on his shoulder.

But he was terrified a nightmare would take over and he would wake you up with a jolt, or worse hurt you if it was particularly awful.

So, he forces himself to stay awake and watches the movie trailer again. He thinks you would like the movie.

“Buck.” You mutter tiredly. His eyes snap to you and he finds your eyes open and staring up at him. “Aren’t you tired?”

He shakes his head gently, careful to not move you. You narrow your eyes and slowly sit up. “Come on, let’s go to bed. You can stay here tonight.”

Bucky hesitates as you stand. He watches as you stretch your entire body and has to force his eyes to his lap when your shirt rides up and your stomach shows.

He had never spent the night at your place. He had spent all day. Even napped at your place often when he came over in the afternoon and you forced him to rest.

He always left before you went to sleep though. So he could suffer through his dreams on his own. So he didn’t drag you down.

You look down at him with soft eyes. “Grab some water. I’ll be in my room, okay?”

“I can go home. I don’t want to intrude.” He answers. Bucky looks out your window and sees just how dark and dead the streets outside were. It wasn’t like he had anything to worry about walking home.

You’re shaking your head before he can even finish. “It’s late and you’re tired, I don’t want you getting hurt. Stay here.” The words are quiet but hold a fierceness that Bucky knows not to argue against.

He nods. “I’m gonna grab some water then.” The nerves coiling around his stomach is almost worth it when your face lights up and you nod excitedly.

The two of you split up in the hall. You moving towards your bedroom and him into the kitchen. After pouring a glass of water, he stands still for a moment and just studies the room.

Your counter is crowded. Different appliances pushed against the wall, ready to be pulled out and plugged in whenever you wanted. A utensil holder stuffed to the brim with spoons and spatulas that seemed to keep appearing. Mail piling up on the counter. A scrub top draped over the back of one of your barstools.

Your kitchen was crowded, but lived in and so very you that Bucky loved it. He loved you, he thinks almost hesitantly.

He pushes the thought to the back of his mind when you call his name out. He knew he cared about you deeply and he loved you as a friend but this feeling in his chest and the speed of his heartbeat makes him think maybe he’s started to feel more. Or maybe he always has.

He doesn’t want to ruin this though. So he pushes the thought away and makes his way towards your room. “I can sleep on the…” His words die on his tongue when he sees the small set up of blankets and pillows beside your bed.

You’re watching him nervously as you try to gauge his reaction. Bucky is stuck standing in stunned silence as he looks it over.

You’ve pulled out a thin duvet and placed it on the ground with extra pillows and blankets for him to lay on. “I remember Sam mentioning soldiers have a tough time sleeping through the night in a bed. Obviously you can sleep in the bed if you want but I just figured that…” You trail off and gesture towards the makeshift bed with a small flourish.

“This is…” He trails off. The warmth in his chest grows with each passing second and his heart races. “Thank you. This is perfect.”

A smile spreads across your face. “Good. Good. I was… I’m glad. And I’m right here if you need me. To protect you.” You say with a teasing glance as you crawl into the bed.

You lay on the side closest to where you’ve set up the floor for him. He laughs softly before moving towards his own space.

He’s still nervous to sleep in the same room. Still feels a little self conscious as he lays his head on the pillow and pulls the light blanket over him. But you don’t seem to really mind his presence as you make yourself comfortable above him.

He takes a deep breath. He definitely loved you.

And things like this gave him hope that you did, or maybe could, love him too.

Later that night he jolts awake with heavy breaths and you look down at him with worried eyes. He shakes his head when you open your mouth not wanting to talk about the dream.

It’s the same thing every time. People that he hurt who didn’t deserve it. The pain of his memories being erased. And he doesn’t want to weigh you down with his trauma anymore than he already has.

You watch him for a moment before nodding silently. Bucky thinks that’s the end of it but he’s shocked when your hand falls off the side of the bed palm open.

He glances up at you and you smile gently but say nothing. He reaches his right hand up and interlocks his fingers with yours.

It’s a little awkward and his arm tenses after a few minutes but it’s far too comforting for him to want to let go. Your hand tightens in his and Bucky finds it easier to fall asleep his hand intertwined with yours.

IV.

Bucky felt awkward in the hospital. He felt too hard and intimidating to be standing in the center of the pediatric ward waiting for you in your teddy bear scrub top and white bottoms.

“Excuse me?” He glances down when he feels a tug on his hand. There’s a young boy standing in front of him with wide eyes. “You’re friends with Captain America?”

Bucky hesitates for a moment before answering. “Yes.” He settles on saying as gently as he can.

He glances around in search of you. He had texted you when he arrived at the hospital and you had responded with a thumbs up, but he was assuming you had gotten busy in the time in between.

The boy squeals excitedly. “Is he here too? Can I meet him?”

Bucky shakes his head softly and kneels to be at eye level with the boy. “He’s home with his family.” When his eyes begin to water and his lip pouts, Bucky begins to panic. “But! I’m sure he’d love to visit soon! I can bring him! What’s your name?”

“Riley!” He looks up at the sound of your voice. A large smile spreads across your face at the sight of Bucky kneeling before the kid. You say something to the nurse beside you before rushing down the hall towards them.

“Riley.” You place a gentle hand on his shoulder. “What are you doing out of bed? You’re supposed to be in bed.” You look down with imploring eyes and the young boy looks away with an embarrassed smile.

“But! It’s Bucky! He’s Captain America’s sidekick.” Bucky’s mouth falls open in shock at the boy's statement.

“Sidekick?” Bucky asks in an offended tone. “Well-“ He cuts himself off when you look at him with exasperated eyes.

“And he said he would bring Captain America in! To meet me!” The boy's excitement obviously leaves him ignorant of Bucky's offense at being called a sidekick.

“And I’m sure he will. But right now you should be in bed.” You say sternly. The boy nods dejectedly and allows you to lead him back into his room.

When you come back out a large smile spreads across your face at the sight of Bucky standing and wiping his hand against his pants.

He can’t help but reciprocate the same large smile. He drops the bag in his hand on the counter beside him and opens his arms as you slam into him with your arms around his waist.

“Thank you so much! I thought my night was ruined!” You pull away but don’t let go as you smile up at him. “We can eat in the cafeteria.”

You grab the bag before he gets the chance to. You turn to the nurse that was sitting and going through charts next to you and with a big grin say, “Page me if you need me, I’ll be in the cafeteria!”

The woman nods with a soft laugh before looking down at the computer. You take Bucky’s hand in yours and begin to pull him towards the elevator.

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this. I know hospitals aren’t your thing.” You say quietly as the two of you step in. You lean away and press the two button.

Bucky thinks for a moment that you’re going to let go of his hand now that you’re not leading him anywhere but you don’t. Bucky smiles at the thought of this becoming a normal occurrence.

Your hand just felt right in his.

“Anything for you, doll.” He says quietly. He glances at you quickly before looking back at the descending numbers. “You’re my best girl.”

You nudge him with your shoulder as you laugh quietly. “That sounds like a line right out of the forties.”

Heat rises to Bucky’s cheeks but he laughs along. “You can take the man out of the forties but you can't take the forties out of the man.”

The two of you look at each other before you both burst out laughing. When the elevator stops on your designated floor you pull him out with you.

“As long as I get to be on the end of all that forties charm, I don’t mind a bit.” You lean into his side and smile brightly.

Bucky looks away as his cheeks turn an even brighter red. You giggle quietly when he looks back down at you. “Yeah. It’s always you at the end of it.”

The two of you look at each other for a moment before you pull him into a crowded cafeteria. “Let’s eat before I’m paged back to my floor.”

Bucky had grown more comfortable around you the longer you knew each other, but he still struggled to be fully comfortable with his arm.

It was a different arm, Steve had said once what felt like forever ago. He had rationalized with Bucky. His other arm had been attached to him and forced on him as a weapon. This arm had been made for him with peace in mind. It was untarnished. Mostly.

But a different arm didn’t change much for him. He had still caused so much pain with it. Was it really that different at all? His arm had always and will always be looked at as a weapon.

So he still wore long sleeves and a glove most of the time. Rarely let you see his biggest shame. You usually didn’t push. Sat on his right side. Held his right hand. You rarely said anything about it, it was almost like it didn't exist.

But, curiosity won out sometimes.

“Why won’t you let me see your arm?” You ask quietly one night. He’s sitting on one of your bar stools as you mix a pasta sauce in front of him.

It had been silent most of the night. You insisted on cooking your famous (at least that’s what you called it) pasta dish after not seeing him for a few days as a welcome home.

Bucky looks up at you with shocked eyes. You had never mentioned wanting to see his arm. He had assumed you didn’t want to.

“I… I don’t know.” He says quietly. He taps his fingers, his flesh fingers, against the counter top nervously. You watch him with hopeful eyes waiting for a real answer to the question. “I guess it’s easy to pretend it’s not there when someone’s never really seen it.”

“Hm.” You mumble in response. You step away from the stovetop and move towards him. “Why would you want to pretend it doesn’t exist? It’s a part of you.”

Bucky looks down at the gloved hand in his lap. “Doll… It’s not… It’s an ugly part of me. Dark and violent. And when I’m with you I get to pretend I’m not that.”

You come to stand in front of him. “There are no ugly parts of you. There’s you. There’s dark and there’s hurt and traumatized parts, but no part of you is ugly. Because on the other end of those there’s bright and happy and healing. Growth. James Buchanan Barnes, I can’t emphasize how beautiful I think you are.”

You raise your hand to rest it against his cheek and force him to look up at you. He shuts his eyes and leans into it. “And I’d really like to see your arm. To know that part of you too, but I won’t make you show me. I want you to show me on your own time.”

Bucky lets himself relish in the softness of your hand against his cheek before leaning away. “Okay…” He takes a deep breath. “Okay.”

He begins to shrug out of his jacket when your hand comes to rest on his right shoulder. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I need you to know that.” You say quietly.

Bucky gives you a small smile. “I know… Doll, you’re the person I trust most in the world. I want you to know me. All of me.”

You smile down at him and take a step back to give him space. Bucky shrugs the jacket off quickly before he can second guess himself. The glove comes off next and Bucky feels strangely naked as your eyes trace over him.

“Buck…” You trail off. Your hand comes up before pausing. You look up at him with questioning eyes and he nods. Your hand comes to rest on his shoulder and you raise his sleeve up a tiny bit to look at the scars that litter his shoulder.

Bucky rarely looked at the scars there. Decades of the arm built by HYDRA had destroyed so much of his skin it had taken forever for Shuri to properly fix and build his new arm.

Your hand moves from his shoulder to the metal arm and your fingers trace over the plates and move through the lines of gold. You move your hand in silence. Slowly taking in the creation.

“This is beautiful.” You finally say quietly as your hand meets his. You interlock his metal fingers in yours and he pulls you closer. You look down at him with a sincere smile. “How could you ever think this is anything but beautiful?” You ask quietly.

Your other hand comes to rest on his cheek again. Bucky looks up at you and sees a flurry of emotions flicker in your eyes.

Part of him wants to pull you down and kiss you senseless. Show you how much he appreciates your never ending warmth.

But he can’t bring himself to ruin the moment. Finds that he doesn’t really want to. He enjoys being here intertwined with you.

And I.

He doesn’t hide his arm from you anymore. Finds himself shedding his jacket and gloves the second he’s inside your apartment.

You don’t really say anything, but he’s noticed the smile on your face whenever you notice him in his short sleeve shirt. He thinks one day he’ll be ready to go out without gloves on. He’ll wear short sleeves out in the summer instead of covering up with the jacket.

But now with you, it feels like progress enough.

You sit on his left most of the time now, like tonight, and hold his metal hand in yours like it’s flesh. It had taken some getting used to. He had flinched away the first time you’d done it, but now it felt almost like habit.

You didn’t seem to think leaning against his metal arm was uncomfortable at all. Never showed signs of discomfort when your head rested against his shoulder.

“I love you.” You say quietly. So quietly Bucky almost doesn’t hear it. He freezes for a moment before swallowing and nodding. He assumes you mean the words as a friend, he had heard you say them to Sam and your other friends from work.

“Me too.” He says just as quietly. He’s sure if he says the actual words you’ll see just how much he means them. How terribly in love with you he is.

But that doesn’t seem good enough because you sit up and place a gentle hand on his cheek that forces him to look you in the eyes.

“James, I love you.” You say the words with so much passion that Bucky knows without hesitation that you mean you’re in love with him. That you loved him as more than a friend.

Tears gather in his eyes as he nods. “I love you too, doll.” He laughs wetly as a smile spreads across your face. “God. I love you so fucking much it’s scary.”

You laugh too. “Good. I was so fucking scared. Buck, you’re my best friend. I… I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Bucky’s hand moves from his lap to your cheek before landing behind your neck. He pulls you in and when he kisses you and you kiss back he thinks he finally understands how much you love him.

Moments flash in his mind as you crawl onto his lap so you’re straddling him. Your constant patience with him. The gentle way you say his first name. The bright smiles and great excitement.

The ability to see the beauty in him.

You pull away with a deep breath and begin peppering kisses across his face. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” You say quietly.

Bucky shuts his eyes as he relishes in your affection. “I love you too.” He murmurs. You had become his home.

Somebody who could mend the crack caused by Steve’s departure. Different aspects of his life, yes, but you had helped him heal nonetheless.

He loved you.

And you loved him. You always had. It had just taken Bucky some time to understand how you showed it.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x fem #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #james buchanan bucky barnes #cupidswritings

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raineydays411 · 3 years

Text

Ember

Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader

Warning: Child neglect, swearing, angst, death

Summary: After being kidnapped by Hydra, Y/N does some reflecting on her home life. Especially her relationship with her father

italics = past pov

Bold= thoughts

Italic bold= ghosts

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You never thought your life would end like this. Alone, trapped in a Hydra cell, full of anger and resentment for the one man who was never supposed to break your heart. Of course, up until now you had been pretty optimistic your father would realize the error of his ways and miraculously spend years making up for years of missed recitals, ignored achievements, and multiple other offenses. You always forgave him because, hey the man was a member of the Avengers, what should you expect having Tony Stark as a father?

But right now, as you lay on the cold, damp floor, writhing in pain from whatever glowey nuclear shit those assholes injected you with, you can’t help but remember the mistreatment and neglect bestowed upon you by your father.

It was, it was September Winds blow, dead leaves fall

You’ll always remember that September day. The day your entire life had changed

You were only eight when Loki tried to take over New York. You and your mom were coming home from the store when all of a sudden, people around you started to panic. Looking up, you saw a large portal in a once clear blue sky. Creatures appeared out of no where, destroying anything in their way. Your mother, terrified, took you by the hand and headed for a near by building. But, it seemed that others had that idea as well. Before you knew it, your vision was overwhelmed by the bodies of citizens trying to escape the chaos outside. After a few seconds, you found yourself in a crowed parking garage and no idea where your mother was.

You never saw her again after that.

After three days of searching, the police declared her dead and you were sent to live with your godmother, Pamela Isely.

She was good to you. She held you through nightmares, told you stories about how your mother and her met, and even taught you how to take care of plants. The only complaint you had was that she would usually leave you alone every once in a while and come back with a lot of money, and occasionally, a loud blonde woman in a clown costume would come through the window and pinch your cheeks too hard. Other than that, you got adjusted to your new life quickly.

Four months passed and your life changed again. It was a cold September day, and you had just got home from school. As you walked into the apartment, you immediately felt a tension in the air, and you saw a man at the table with your Aunty Pam, who looked extremely uneasy and pale. They stared at you until your Aunt spoke.

“Y/N...you’re going back to New York.”

Those words alone made the floor fall from underneath you. You had just settled down. You finally felt comfortable without your mother in the world and now this?? Then the man cleared his throat, causing you to snap back into reality.

“Y/n, my name is Tony Stark”

You knew that name, he was the man in the metal suit who helped save New York. You didn’t care at the moment though, you just wanted to know why you were leaving your aunt.

Ignoring Tony, you looked at your aunt and whispered,

“ Did...did I do something wrong?”

Immediately, Pams eyes filled with tears as she quickly gathered you in her arms and responded with a loud,

“Oh no, darling of course not”, She then proceeded to tell you the uncomfortable looking man at the table was in fact your father, who up till now you had never met. In fact, you never even fathomed the idea of having a father as your mom had always told you that you were a gift from some fairies she helped. You turned to the man who quietly sat at the table and looked over the man who was said to be your father.

He was definitely a handsome man. He wore a fancy looking suit and some tinted glasses even though he was inside. His hair was dark brown and messy, as if he was tugging or running his fingers through it. His skin looked to be am olive color but it was hard to tell as he looked kind of pale in the light of the small apartment you called home. You thought it was odd he hadn’t said anything other than introducing himself.

“ Is it true? Are you really my dad?” You asked in a quiet voice.

He finally spoke, “Yeah kid, I’m your dad”

To you, I did surrender

Two weeks, you didn’t call

It’s been two weeks since you were taken by Hydra. Two weeks since you were injected with that mystery substance. You didn’t die, at least you don’t think you did. But you didn’t exactly feel alive either. You were colder than usual, like your body temperature lowered. You slept longer than normal especially the first three days after you were injected. The guards had to wake you up just to get you to eat. But the most worrying symptom of all is that your eyes were the same shade of neon blue as the liquid that was injected into your body. And everytime your eyes turned blue, something weird would happen.

For example, the first time you noticed your eyes were blue, you woke up from the first long sleep.The second time, you thought you heard voices, screaming in agony and despair.This was odd because you were the only one in that cell block. As you came back to reality, you realized that you could see other ghostly figures in the once empty cells, and that you were floating three feet above your bed.

Within the two weeks you were in that cell, you learned that that day you were injected, your heart did stop for an hour until you miraculously sprung back to life with a loud gasp, scaring the absolute shit out of the Hydra guards that were tasked with disposing your body. That would go through physical changes as well. Your once brown skin would change to a pale ghostly blue. And your black kinky hair would change to a shocking neon blue to match the color of your eyes.

For two weeks, you learned the ins and outs of your newfound powers. Two weeks of being pushed to your absolute limits by power hungry scientists. Two weeks of learning the names of the dead around you in those cells.

It took two weeks, to realize that your father truly didn’t care about you.

And looking back on it, you should’ve known

Your life, goes on without me My life, a losing game

It had been a year since you had moved into the Avengers Tower with your father. It had taken you a while to warm up to the team and for the team to get used to having a child around. But once you all got to know each other, it was like having multiple aunts and uncles. Especially because you were around them more than your own father.

Unfortunately, once you had settled in and gotten to know everyone, Tony had locked himself away in his lab. Tinkering on a new project for weeks on end, ignoring his responsibilities as a new father.

Now, this didn’t really affect you till you started school. Tony had forgotten to pick you up multiple times, causing you to wait for hours on end till either Steve or Pepper realized that you hadn’t come home and rushed to the school , only to see you waiting on the front steps talking the ear off of the unlucky teacher who had to stay behind to wait with you.

Of course word got around that Y/N Stark was being forgotten at school everyday, thus prompting the kids at school to taunt you everyday after school.

“Where's your daddy Y/N??”

“I bet he leaves you here so you can get kidnapped so he doesn’t have to look at you”

“Your own dad doesn’t even love you”

Once you got to middle school, you joined as many after school clubs to hide the fact that there was no one to pick you up. And a small part hoped that it would be enough to gain your fathers attention. But it didn’t happen.

“Daddy! I made the volleyball team!”

“hmm, oh that's great kid, can you pass me that wrench”

“Dad! I’m in the robotics club”

“Y/N I’m really busy right now”

“ Hey dad...can you help me with--”

“Not now, go ask Pepper”

No matter what you did, you could never get his attention long enough. Nothing you did was good enough. You never got so much as a “welcome home” or a “ have a good day at school kiddo”. And you were fine with that. You were, because you knew that even though he didn’t show it, Tony Stark really did love you.

But you should, you should not doubt me You will remember my name.

After learning the extent of your powers, which included; flying,the ability to talk and see the dead, energy blasts, floating through walls, and the ability to shut off your powers at will. You decided it was time for you to make plans to escape.

You’d like to think that you were really good at pretending.

You did it on a daily basis, really. You pretended to be happy, not to notice Tony’s neglect, like you didn’t see the pity glances the rest of the team gave you. So convincing your captors that they finally broke you down wasn’t really a challenge.

“....fine..i’ll help you” You said in a tired weak voice.

The two guards were startled at first, not expecting you to speak so suddenly

“You..what?” The younger of the two asked in a suspicious tone.

“I said I want to help you” you repeated a little louder.

The first guard looked to the second, obviously confused at your sudden change of heart. They had a silent conversation with their eyes, as if debating on whether this was a trick or not. Finally, the older of the two turned to you and said,

“This better not be a trick, Stark.”

And with that, he started to unlock the door to your cell.

“Okay, now I can either fight them now and make a break for it, or I can wait till i get to the--”

Your thoughts were cut off by a loud wailing, piecing your ears and automatically giving you a headache. Wincing in pain you look around the empty cell blocks and try to locate the spirit that’s making all that noise. When you see it, your heart breaks. It’s a young boy, around your age. The first thing you notice about him is that he had white hair, kinda Danny Phantom. As you continued to stare at the boy, his head suddenly turned and you both made eye contact, the movement startling you enough to make you jerk in the hold of the guards

“ HEY, eyes forward!” shouted the older guard. “There's no way out, if that's what you're looking for’ He said in a smug tone.

“I said I wanted to join you, why would I want to escape?” You reply, irritation dripping from your words.

“Just don’t pull any tricks kid.”

God does he have any other lines, you think to yourself mentally rolling your eyes. Sounds familiar.

Oh Ember, you will remember

Oh Ember, one thing remains

“Y/N I’m busy, go as--” “I know, go ask Pepper”

“Oh kid, I’m sorry I forgot” “ yeah, I know”

“You’re on the volleyball team” “ yes dad. For four years now”

“Y/N! I’m gonna be in the lab with Peter so try not to bother us.”

“Y/N me and Peter--”

“Good job, Peter”

“Hey Peter--”

God were you tired of that name. You never ever felt the feeling of envy and anger as much as you did when Peter came into your life.

In fact, you were still healing from almost losing your family you found in the Avengers. Your dad didn’t want you around the “traitors” as he privately called them, so you were secluded. Watching them from afar and yearning for the comfort of hearing Steves pre-war stories, helping Clint pull off the most ridiculous pranks, helping Wanda teach Vision how to cook, and most of all you missed talking to Natasha. She reminded you of your aunt Pam, mainly because they both had red hair. You hoped that your father would understand this loss and step up now that you really needed a connection, but no. He decided that Peter Parker deserved all his attention. So you stopped trying as hard.

Oh Ember, So warm and tender You will remember my name

You walk into a room with a singular table and no windows. Sat at the table was a bald man writing in a notebook. The two guards lead you to the table and make you sit opposite of the bald man. He looks up at you and smiles.

“So, Ms. Stark has finally decided to comply?” He asks in a smug tone. You roll your eyes and answer back in a sarcastic tone,

“Yeah yeah, just cut the crap and tell me what you want me to do.”

The bald man just smiles and looks at you, as if trying to read your mind to figure out your motives.

“Well”, he says, leaning back into his chair. “Lets get down to business.” He then proceeds to talk about the process of join his team and what you will be doing. But you don’t hear a word of it. Because you were going to escape this hell hole one way or another.

“Well then, lets get you changed.” said the bald man. “Yeager, Jennings, take our guest to to her new room.

“Huh so they do have names.” You think, as they pull you out of the chair and into the hallway. Walking back into the cell block, you make eye contact with that white haired boy again. He’s quiet as he watches you walk back to your room, then he disappears.

You finally get back to your cell and notice a pair of black spandex, black halter top, grey boots and some black gloves on the floor. Changing into them, you take your hair into a pineapple with a hair tie they had given you. Looking into the piece of metal you used as a mirror, you changed into your ghost form. Suddenly, you hear a male voice behind you.

“Don’t let them know you can do that.”

You startle and turn around, only to see none other than the white haired boy. He looked equally as startled as he realized you can see and hear him.

“Why not?” you asked, changing back to your normal self.

“Because, they won’t ever let you leave.You’re already the first one to survive the injection. If they realize you can go ghost, they’ll do everything in their power to control you.”

Your mind flashed to Bucky. How Steve told you that they kept him. Brainwashing him over and over till he just became a weapon. You were not going to let them do that to you. You looked back at the boy.

“Can you help me get out of here?” you asked hopefully. The boy looked at you and said,

“Well I’ve got nothing else to do.” You let go a sigh of relief. You were about to say something when you heard Yeager and Jennings walking down the hallway.

“They’re coming” You whisper, “ what do I do?”

“This base is small. All the people here are the only ones who know about it. They’re all going to be in the training room you’re being taken to. Wait till you get there, phase into the floor to the basement and blow up the heater. That should cause the whole building to cave in”

You again don’t get to respond, as the two men finally get to your cell and unlock it. You walk out of the cell, head held high and allow them to lead you to the training room. Despite the look of confidence, you were dreading the next few moments.

“So how come I’m the only one here?” you ask, even though you know the answer. The older guard looks at you and says

“You’re the only one who survived.” You fake a look of shock and look forward as if the news made you uneasy. And it did. It made you mad that these people didn’t care that they were murdering innocent people. They couldn’t hear the cries and the wails of agony these poor trapped souls emitted. In a way, it was ironic. Back at the tower, you were the poor soul nobody could see. And now you were surrounded by them.

Your heart, your heart is rendered Your loss, now bear the shame

This was the last straw. There was only so much you an take before you broke and this was it.

Tony didn’t intend for you to hear it, but god did it hurt all the same. One phrase shattered your whole world.

“You know Spiderling, your kinda like the kid I always wanted to have.”

An tense silence filled the common room. The first time in months you were able to see th eteam and they had to bear witness to this. Of course they did, who else would give you that stare full of sorrow and pity. You barely even noticed though. You were too busy looking at the “heartwarming scene.”

“that's such bullshit” Oh, how you wish you had a camera if only to capture the look of pure “oh shit” painted on Steve's face.

“What..what was that kid?” Asks your father. You turn to him, a fury in your eyes that nobody has ever seen.

“THAT IS ABSOLUTE BULLSHIT.” You scream. “ FOR EIGHT YEARS I HAVE TRIED SO HARD FOR YOU TO LOVE ME. EIGHT YEARS I JOINED CLUBS, GOT THE HIGHEST GRADED IN CLASS AND FOR WHAT?”

Tony and Peter look at you in shock “Y/n..wha..what are you talking about?” Peter asks in a baffled voice.

“Oh eat shit Peter! You know exactly what I’m talking about! Do you not find it weird, that your new mentor spends every single second of free time he has on you and not with his daughter?? Or are you so needy for some sort of parental validation that you don’t even care??”

Deep down you know it’s not Peters fault. Hell, you two probably could have been good friends if your dad wasn’t such a tool.

“Hey kid, I don’t know what's gotten into you, but that was way over the line.” Said Tony in a stern voice. Your eyes harden.

“Oh, did I hurt your poor little spiders feelings?? I didn’t even know you cared about other peoples feelings Tony? Or is it just your daughters that you ignore ?”

“What are you talking about? I don’t ignore you, stop being so over dramatic.”

OVERDRAMATIC?? DO YOU REALIZE THE ONLY THING YOU KNOW ABOUT ME IS MY NAME??” You are now sobbing. “ Do you even know my favorite color? How old I am?”

Tony looks at you, eyes wide.”Y/N...” You cut him off

“Just forget it. I understand now. I will never be important to you. Not like Peter apparently is. I just wish it didn't take me eight years to figure that out.” And with that, you run out of the room, tears running down your cheeks and ignoring the calls of your father, the team, and Peter.

You run for a few blocks and cry in an alleyway. not the smartest idea but you were too upset to care. And as you cry, you don’t notice the dark shadow behind you before its too late and the world goes dark.

Like dead trees, in cold december Nothing but ashes remain

The hydra base was now engulfed with flames. Your body was tired from phasing through the walls, and your head hurts from those energy blasts. But one thing brings some happiness in your heart as you watch all the souls that were trapped there realize they are free. All but one, the white haired kid. He walks up to you.

“So you did it.” He says with a smile. You smile back.

“Yeah I did. Thanks to you.”

“Blue suits you.” he says with a blush. You squint at him for a second and let out a chuckle.

“Thanks” ,You’re both silent for a few seconds, watching the souls leave. You speak up again.

“Why aren’t you leaving like them” You question him.

“I don’t know, I guess my time here isn’t up.” he says looking out at the horizon. You nod and look at around trying to figure out where you are.

“So, what are you going to do next” he asks. Your body stiffens as you are filled with resentment.

“I’m going to visit my father.” You say, eyes glowing a neon blue.

You will remember my name.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: HI!so this is my first ever fanfic! i hope anyone who reads this enjoys it!! Let me know what you think and what i can improve on!💕

#tony stark x daughter!reader #danny phantom #fanfic #marvel #marvel x reader #reader insert #tony stark #tony stark imagine #peter parker x stark!reader #the avengers #poc reader #avengers x teen!reader #x reader #danny phantom x reader #steve rogers x reader #crossover #poison #poison ivy

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

Text

All Bets Are Off ~ YJG & LMH [Request]

WORD COUNT:3.3.k

PAIRING: Jeongin x Fem!Reader x Minho

GENRE: Angst, fluffy ending, swearing

A/N: I hope you like this, I sort of went for a different way of writing it so I hope you like it and understand it

"Did you hear about Jeongin?" You looked up from the makeup palette you were using to see some of the other stylists all crowding around one another as they spoke in hushed tones, the mention of his name sent shivers down your spine. It was as if someone had just taken a cup of freezing cold water and poured it down your back bringing you into a harsh reality that was the real world,

"I wouldn't worry too much," Sana spoke softly as she noticed the worried look spreading across your face, after working with you for almost all of her career she was able to read you like a book, she knew every look you gave meant something and this was a worried one. The simple mention of Jeongin's name made you want to burst into tears at any given moment but you couldn't, you couldn't let on that what they were gossiping about was about you and Jeongin not only was it embarrassing but it would also lead you to get fired on the spot.

"There's always some kind of gossip, but it's nothing." She reminded you as she placed her hand on top of yours, running her smooth pale skin to try and calm you down but nothing was working. Your skin was starting to feel clammy as you heard the gossip getting louder and louder, normally the gossiping would go over your head but this time you knew it was going to be about you and Jeongin. The more they spoke the harder your heart began to beat against your chest, so hard it felt as though it was going to spring out of your chest as you slowly placed down the brush you had been using on Sana's face,

"I heard it was a stylist," One of them giggled before looking around the room, none of them had any idea what was truly going on. They only knew what they had heard and even that wasn't the full truth, the only people who knew the truth were you, Jeongin, Sana, Nayeon and Minho and the boys Jeongin had created this whole thing with, you didn’t want the entire JYP Entertainment company knowing the in’s and out’s of your personal life,

"Do you want to go and get some air?" Nayeon questioned as she noticed how faint you began to look, there were beads of sweat beginning to collect on your forehead and all you could do was nod your head in answer to her. Both her and Sana got up before taking you out of the room and headed towards the quiet room so you could take a minute to yourself.

Breathing heavily you tried not to look out of the glass walls of the quiet room instead you were trying to focus on Nayeon and Sana as they tried to calm you down,

"You need to forget about them, they don't know it's you." Nayeon reminded you as she cupped your face in her hands, running her small fingers under your eyes to remove the tears that you hadn't even noticed had begun running down your cheeks.

"It's not even that big of a deal, it'll blow over soon," Sana reminded you but you weren't listening to them now, your eyes were locked onto Jeongin as he came down the hall out of one of the studios. The boys were standing with him laughing about something, all you could think about was them laughing at you even if it wasn't what they were doing. They were lost in conversation with one another but as soon as Jeongin saw you staring at him he froze in place, this was the first time he'd seen you around the building in months. He figured you'd quit but seeing you there brought back all of the emotions he had for you, another pair of eyes made their way to yours as he saw you sitting with the girls. Minho. As soon as you saw him it was like a wave of relief washed over your body and the panic you had been feeling about Jeongin suddenly disappeared from your mind as Minho gave you a small reassuring smile. Jeongin frowned as he saw you staring behind him, he glanced over his shoulder to his Hyung as he scoffed, storming off in the direction he was going originally. The girls had been hiding you whenever Jeongin came around asking to speak to you, there was no way you were ever going to be able to face him or even speak to him after what he did to you what he put you through for the last year of your life. All of the times you spent together came crashing back into you like a wave hitting the sand, even if Minho was by your side nothing could stop you from feeling the hurt you experienced with Jeongin and every time you looked at the young Maknae it hit you over and over again.

Things between you and Jeongin had been going great, you were dating in secrecy since it was in your contract that you weren't allowed to date any of the idols that worked for JYP Entertainment and you had signed and agreed to that. Dating wasn't a problem since you seemed to get along with all of the idols really well, Stray Kids treated you like a sister as did the members of Itzy and Twice since you worked with them the most.

"Hey, are we still meeting at the dorms?" Jeongin whispered in your ear as he ran his hands up and down your side, you let out a shaky breath as you nodded at his question, Jeongin was the only one that didn't treat you like a sister since you guys were together.

"It'll be just the two of us, Channie-Hyung is working late and the boys have agreed to let me have the place to myself," He placed a quick kiss on your shoulder before moving away from you, going to sit down on the sofa that was inside the styling room you were working in. You were currently practising some of the hairstyles for Twice on a mannequin head so you could make sure you had it perfect when it came to doing live shows.

"You're doing great, you've been getting better ever since you got here." That was Jeongin for you, always trying to make sure you felt confident in everything that you were doing in the company. You were an apprentice stylist getting paid below the minimum to train there while working alongside some of the greatest idols and stylists in the business,

"You have to say that, you're my boyfriend." You rolled your eyes at him as you continued to pin some of the curls onto the head of the doll and then spraying it with some glitter hairspray before stepping back to look at it from behind.

"I would tell you if it looked bad, you know I would." He pressed his lips against your ear as you let out another shaky breath, he knew what all of his small touches and kisses did to you but he never acted on any of them. It was all part of the game for him, he was just going along with the game he and some of the boys had arranged with one another and so far you were falling into the trap. The two of you had been together for almost a year now which meant it was time for all of this to come undone soon but as the date drew nearer Jeongin couldn't help but want to postpone the day and tell the boys that the bet was off. That he couldn't break up with you because he was starting to fall in love with you for real but he knew they would laugh at him, and joke about it. The bet was to see who could date you the fastest and break up with you within a year, Jeongin won the dating side and decided he was going to make it a painful breakup until he got to know you. The more he got to know you over the past year the more he began to realise how much of an awful person he was for making this game with you, you had human emotions you weren't just some toy for him and the boys to play with whenever they got bored but it was too late now, he was too far into the "relationship" to tell you what it really was and he didn't want the boys to laugh at him and call him whipped over someone he barely knew but he knew you. He felt he knew you well enough to fall in love with you and what did it matter if it was all some kind of joke, to begin with? It wasn't as if you had to know the details, he could just tell the boys it was off and that would be it, you'd never have to know about it or the money that was included in the bet.

"Everything okay Innie?" You questioned as you glanced over at him, his face was pale as he stared down at your feet clearly he was thinking hard about something since he hadn't heard what you asked him. Waving your hand in front of his face you waited for him to snap out of the daydream but when he did he jumped up from the seat,

"I need to go and talk the boys," He stuttered out nervously as he looked at you, smiling at you as he leant forward to give you a quick kiss in the empty styling room only for you to playfully hit him with a brush,

"Go before you get us caught," You hissed at him, giggling as you watched him running away from you and down the hall, the giggle you let out filled him with hope as he raced to find the boys hoping they hadn't left already.

As you were leaving the building you walked by one of the studios when you heard Jeongin's voice sounding strained as he spoke back and forth with someone, you knew it was wrong to eavesdrop but when you heard your name you wanted to see what it was all about.

"Look, it wasn't our idea to make her fall in love with you, all you had to do was date her," Felix said as he looked at a worried-looking Jeongin, he'd come to the boys for advice, telling them that the bet was off but they claimed there wasn't just a way out of it since they'd all put money down into it.

"You can't tell me you're starting to have real feelings for her," You heard Seungmin laugh loudly as he spoke to Jeongin, Jeongin added an awkward laugh as he began to scratch the back of his neck playing it off as though he was playing a trick on the boys.

"No! Of course, not. I was joking, I'm going to do it tonight." He laughed looking between Felix and Seungmin as he tried not to seem as bothered about this as he was. The bet was between the three of them, they didn't want the older boys getting involved since they got along with you the boys, Chan looked out for you like you were his twin sister and Seungmin knew damn well how Minho felt about you. Minho had been in love with you since you started working for JYP, he'd never been able to keep his eyes off you but the two of you were nothing more than friends.

"Besides, she's just a stylist you need someone better than that." As soon as Felix said that you felt your heart clench as you thought about what they were talking about and that was when you heard it,

"₩700,000, is a lot of money Jeongin and it's all yours. All you have to do is break up with her before the end of the week," The way Seungmin spoke so apathetically made you shiver, normally they were the sweetest guys in the group but hearing this only made you want to throw up.

"You decided to get in on this, we didn't force you to ask Y/n out, you did it and now you have to dump her before the time is up," Felix said smugly as he turned to leave the room, you gasped as you darted out in the other direction sliding yourself into a different studio as tears rolled down your cheeks.

"Y/n?!" Minho asked in a panicked tone as soon as he saw you crying, he dropped what he was doing and walked over to you placing his hand on your arm but you flinched away from him.

"Y-You can give it up! I know you're all in on it right?!" You choked out a sob as you wiped your face, moving away from the door and from Minho as you shook your head.

"You think just because I'm not some famous Idol that I don't have feelings?!" Minho stepped away as you yelled out at him, he'd never heard you raise your voice to anyone before and now you were crying and screaming about feelings.

"What are you talking about?" He tried to steady you but you weren't having any of it,

"You can quit pretending, I know Jeongin only asked me out because you all bet he could dump me within a year. I get it. I'm the joke," But the look on Minho's face read that he had no idea what you were talking about but that he was angry about it, his face was getting redder by the second.

"They did what?" You stopped sniffling as you turned to look up at him wondering why he hadn't known about the bet but he heard laughter coming from down the hall and he stormed out of the studio you were standing in.

"Jeongin!" His voice boomed and it almost sounded as deep as Felix's did as the Maknae froze in place, turning to look at you and Minho. Your eyes were bloodshot as you continued to silently cry into a tissue,

"Everything okay, babe?" Minho put his hand on Jeongin's chest to stop him from coming any closer to you, he didn't want Jeongin to be near you in this state.

"Don't call her babe, don't pretend that this is real when she's just heard you betting money on who could date her and dump her!" Jeongin flinched, he'd seen Minho angry before but never this level of anger and he didn't like this side of his Hyung.

"Are you stupid? Incredibly sensitive or just a complete and utter idiot?!" Felix and Seungmin came out of the room they had been standing in to see what was going on outside when they saw Jeongin, his body was slumped down as he stared at the floor not looking at either you or Minho as he yelled at him.

"Answer the question!" Minho demanded, his anger boiling up even more at the thought of someone hurting you emotionally or physically.

"I- I wasn't thinking when I agreed to it," Jeongin mumbled as he still couldn't look up,

"Please! Minho is only angry because he's in love with Y/n." Seungmin spat out making you tense up as Minho turned to him next,

"You know what, yeah I am but that doesn't mean that you get to toy around with someone's emotions! Do you have any idea how fucked up that is?!" Sana and Nayeon came out of their dressing rooms when they heard the yelling, they took one look at you before dragging you into a friendly embrace while Minho continued to get into a heated argument with Jeongin about what he had done.

"We were bored," Seungmin mumbled, rolling his head back against the wall as if he didn't care what he had done,

"You were bored?" Minho scoffed, running his tongue along his teeth as he shook his head,

"I'm bored sometimes but you don't see me going around and betting money on people's feelings...You make me sick, give me one good reason I shouldn't tell Chan what you've done!?" Jeongin's eyes locked with yours and then to Minho as panic ran through his body,

"Because I'm in love with her, for real...I love her and I...I wanted to call this whole thing off but the boys weren't going to let me," He explained but you didn't look up from Nayeon's arms, you felt nothing when he said he loved you.

"You should have thought about that before you got into this mess," Minho snapped, watching as Felix and Seungmin walked over to you, apologising before leaving without another word to one another.

"Y/n I'm sorry...I just-" You slapped Jeongin across the cheek as he tried to speak to you, you knew that violence was never the answer but right now it was what he deserved for ripping your heart out and stamping it into the ground.

"Do you think you can forgive me?" You stared into his eyes as you watched tears roll down his face, you searched them for any sign of sincerity that he meant that he was sorry and you knew he was but it didn't mean you could accept this.

"No. I can't...Maybe if you had told me about it instead of laughing behind my back things would have been different but now?" You looked him up and down before sniffling,

"Now I can't even look at you," You whispered turning into a sob as you walked away with Sana and Nayeon to find a girls bathroom where you could clean yourself up for the night.

"Hey," Minho whispered as he replaced Nayeon and Sana in the quiet room, the two of them going off to change before heading home.

"Hi," You whispered back to him, leaning your head on his shoulder as you tried to come down from the small panicky feeling you had experienced. Minho placed his hand over yours, locking your fingers together as you both sat down on the stools in the room.

"It'll get easier to look at him, I promise." He whispered to you as he traced small patterns into your hand with his fingertips, just having him this close to you made you feel so much better. The two of you had been dating for a month, deciding to try it out together and it was working.

"I don't know how you do it," You laughed sarcastically as you looked up at Minho through your lashes, he and Jeongin had gone back to acting as though nothing had happened, in fact, the whole of the Maknae line were pretending it never happened and the money was never spoken about again. That was of course after Jeongin tried to give it to you as an apology but you told him you wanted nothing to do with that part of your life anymore.

"I can tell how sorry he is, it doesn't mean I forgive him for hurting you it just means I'm capable of letting it pass but if he hurts you again I'll break his knees," You laughed at him and shook your head at him,

"No, you won't. He's your friend, you should go though." You nudged him as you noticed the boys manager staring at you through the glass walls of the quiet room,

"I'll make it up to you, your place tonight?" He questioned as if there was any other place you would go together. The two of you would always hang out at your apartment since you didn't have the bravery to head to the dorms just yet.

"Yeah, bring food." You ordered as he walked out of the door, sending you a playful wink as he walked away from you.

Tagline: @taestannie @kneel-begyourpardon @sw33tnight @acciocriativity @mwitsmejk @minholuvs

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