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aerodaltonimperial · 7 months

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Jack AU: Jack and Darby are room mates in a hospital

(The only hospital drama I’ve seen is Grey’s, and that place always on fire or being robbed or bombed or held up at gunpoint or planes coming down so…)

At first, Jack is alone in the room, which is great, because he kind of hurts all over and likes to be able to groan about the pain without anybody listening. But after a few hours, it seems like the rest of the victims are being moved out of surgery, and he ends up with a roommate.

He doesn’t complain, because a hotel collapsed. An entire hotel collapsed, and he’s lucky they could get everyone in; sheer numbers alone should have made it impossible. But it does mean that they have to double people up in rooms. Jack’s new roommate is unconscious, so it’s still quiet.

That’s fine. As long as the guy doesn’t up and die, anyway.

His roommate doesn’t die. Honestly, that feels like adding so much more trauma to a day Jack is already going to need extensive therapy for. He watched the topmost floor implode on itself as the rest of the building supports went down like dominoes, one after another. So the guy not flatlining in the first hour is actually great news. He even ends up opening his eyes, which are blue where Jack can see around the swelling.

But the nurses are running through the halls, and Jack’s pressed the button on his bed three times without answer. Since they’re both hooked up to machines announcing their continued existence, they don’t seem to be as important as the other people who, uh, might be faring worse.

“Hey,” Jack tries. The guy’s on oxygen, so talking is not gonna happen, right? Dude got out of surgery—he’s got to be in pain, more than Jack is. Does he need more meds? He’s got the IV in, shouldn’t a nurse be coming by to make sure he’s okay? Are all the staff members used to dashing through the halls like this? “Uh, you… you need anything?”

The guy stares at Jack over the oxygen, so Jack continues, “I’ve tried hitting the button, but, I think people are really busy? Cause the hotel collapsed? I assume you were there, too.”

He gets a nod. Progress; his roommate can still hear. That’s something.

“Sorry,” Jack says. He isn’t sure what else to say. “Can I do anything to help?”

The guy holds up one hand and sort of waves it a few times. Like he’s asking Jack to keep going. “Oh, I should keep talking?” A nod. Well, Jack can do that. His legs on fire, but talking is a good distraction. “Okay, sure. Uh, I’m Jack. Nice to meet you, under better circumstances at least. I don’t know why you were at the hotel, but I was there for a work conference. Ironic, huh? Do you think I’ll get Workers Comp for this?”

His roommate’s shoulders shake a few times. A laugh! Jack hadn’t expected that. This guy is tough as nails—probably has to be with all those tattoos. There’s a whole heap of black ink running up his left arm and disappearing beneath the flimsy hospital gown.

“So, anyway, I’m Jack,” Jack continues, “and I’m here because as the hotel collapsed, one of the umbrellas from the pool area hit me. It’s not even a cool injury. Oh, is that in bad taste? Shit, probably, but, like, it totally isn’t. A pool umbrella pinned me to the fence. Like, of all things. Do you think the universe is trying to tell me something?”

More shaking. More laughter—Jack’s on a roll here. It’s been awhile since he’s met someone who genuinely found him funny. He could get used to the warmth sliding up his chest, the pride.

When he glances over again, the guy’s watching him. Jack shrugs a little. “I’d ask your name, but…”

The cart he’s hooked up to is on wheels, and all the IV tubes and cords seem decently long. Jack scans the room. Then he reaches for the wall and drags himself, bed included, a few inches over. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough to reach the paper and pen on the little table between them. Things have been so crazy no one even bothered to put the privacy curtain up.

He hands the pen to his roommate. “Can you…?”

The guy reaches for it. Holds it terribly, but probably better than Jack could. And he scratches letters on the paper until he stops. Jack squints. “Darby? Well. Nice to meet you, Darby. Thanks for not dying and giving me more PTSD.”

That’s definitely a smile reaching up into those eyes.

It takes forever for the nurses to come back, and when one does, she’s very haggard. Jack can’t really blame her. He can see stretchers lining the hallway, so they really ran out of room following the disaster.

Darby is in and out of sleep for the first few hours. Jack pieces together that he was in surgery, and it was rough enough that the nurses are a bit surprised he’s still doing okay. Surprised, but grateful. And by grateful, apparently they are just going to ignore him now in favor of the people not doing okay. Which… okay, again, Jack wants to give them a lot of credit for saving lives, but pain medication is helpful, y’know?

He talks to Darby when the other is awake. Tells a lot of stories. For some reason, Darby seems amused by the dumb shit Jack gets up to and all the situations he seems to find himself in. Jack’s recounting of the time he got food poisoning while stuck in a bus depot seems to positively delight him.

When he dozes off again, Jack only feels a little guilty staring at him. It’s totally not his fault that Darby is, despite the hospital gown and the oxygen mask and, you know, the fact that his stomach was apparently repaired in OR3, kind of really hot.

Listen. It’s been a really bad day. Jack’s determined to find that silver lining somewhere.

“Uh, no,” Jack says. “The Marvel movies are so overrated. It’s all reliance on special effects now. Really, the CGI team should get all those awards, not the actors.”

Darby is doing that thing again where he’s laughing and shaking the tubes running into the machine beeping along with his heart. He lifts up one hand, index finger extended.

“Yeah, okay, like the first ones were pretty good,” Jack says, because he’ll give him that. “The emotional impact with the beginning should be acknowledged.”

Darby closes one eye, stares meaningfully at Jack with the other.

“I know, I know,” Jack says. “Way too many now. I can’t keep up with anything. And they aren’t in order anymore? Are there, like, multiverses in everything now? Who can understand all of this?”

Darby offers a thumbs up.

“Well, sure, it’s all better than Snyder’s Justice League,” Jack says, and sighs.

Darby’s pain meds wear off, and Jack has to hit his call button six times before a nurse shows up to help. An hour later, they make Jack get up and try to put weight on his leg, which ends up being a real shitshow of pain but he manages it. Darby claps for him, which is nice.

There’s a lot of commotion outside their room. Jack thinks quite a few people died. Actually, he doesn’t like to think about that, so he tries not to. But when he falls asleep, he has a nightmare about it. Dead bodies everywhere, the hotel on fire. And the meds in his IV keep him out when he ought to be waking up, which prolongs the horror. When he wakes up, it’s because a hand is shaking his shoulder vigorously.

Jack comes to with tears in his eyes and his throat raw. Darby has pulled his own bed closer so he could wake Jack up; it’s his hand on Jack’s bicep. Jack grapples for the man’s fingers and squeezes them, trying to avoid the tape and the needle. God, he had to have been screaming himself hoarse.

They end up falling back asleep with their hands joined, elbows balanced on the side rails.

The nurse pulls the tube out of Darby’s throat the next morning, which nearly makes Jack gag. Fuck, that’s awful, but Darby recovers faster than Jack would have. He hacks for a few moments, and then looks at the nurse blearily. “You fixed my stomach?”

“From where the pipe went through you?” The nurse asks, eyebrows hiked. “Yes. We did.”

“So I can drink coffee when I get out of here?” Darby continues, all rough and out of use and sandpaper-y.

She doesn’t seem to follow, and neither does Jack. “Eventually? Yes.”

“Okay.” Darby turns to Jack, one hand still holding his throat. “When I get released, you wanna get coffee with me?”

“Are you…” Jack blinks. “Are you asking me on a date?”

Darby grins. “Yeah.”

“You’re insane,” Jack tells him seriously.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

Jack smiles back. “Yeah, I wanna get coffee with you.”

“Sweet,” Darby says, as the nurse just grumbles at the ceiling.

It takes five weeks, but they get coffee. Jack makes sure they don’t sit near any umbrellas, and Darby holds his hand the whole time. They take a selfie and tag their location as the hotel that collapsed. It’s the dumbest shit Jack has ever done. They end up on the local news, and Jack doesn’t even care. He’s too busy on WebMD trying to figure out when Darby can attempt strenuous exercise again after extensive surgery.

(“It doesn��t really need to be that strenuous,” Darby points out. “I’ll just lay against the pillows, and you can do all the work.”

“While I’m not against this,” Jack replies, “I’m worried about ripping your stitches out.”

“Everything you say just makes me more excited about this,” Darby tells him, and Jack thinks he’s being serious.)

#tag so you don’t lose this shit #is this the dumbest thing i have ever written?#hmmmmm you be the judge lol

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ferrocache · 5 months

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ok fic jumpscare. ftm!rosa. no tws

enjoy i guess .? if enough people want im might finish it. itll be a oneshot

Rosa found herself staring at her body in the mirror once again. This had started to become a regular occurrence. Everyday after getting dressed she would sit and stare at herself in the mirror. Something felt wrong... Something had to be wrong. But she didn’t know what. Maybe it was the clothes she wore, or maybe it was the way she carried herself, Rosa just couldn’t figure it out. After snapping out of the trance she had worked herself into she started to carry on with her morning routine. Slipping on her red blazer, with a couple enamel pins as decorations she took one last look in the mirror and headed on to the short walk to work.

Although Rosa’s relationship with Artem was good, great even, she couldn't bring herself to look him in the eyes. Nor could she look in anyone's eyes, lest they read her thoughts. She honestly felt bad for keeping her thoughts to herself, but she didn’t know how to put her feelings into words? How would you even go about describing something like this? She sped up her pace as she realised she had been standing still while thinking. To be honest, she found it embarrassing. Everyone else, especially in the NXX team, had their lives and themselves figured out, but why couldn't she? Was something wrong with her?

She sighed as she walked through the office’s glass doors and gently waved to the receptionist before taking the stairs up to her desk. Papers had started to pile up on her desk, and multiple boxes of documents had accumulated around her workspace. She had been working on them but they just kept piling up and no amount of overnighters could make it bearable. Her colleagues had offered to help but she had declined all of them. She didn’t want to burden them with more work, not after she felt like she had started to weigh down on their good mood.

—

Eventually, Rosa was confronted. Artem had been keeping an eye on her and noticed that something was off. He had called her into his office multiple times but everytime Rosa had an excuse and needed to leave. "You've been acting.. Off. Is something going on that I should be aware of? You know that you can trust me, right?"Name glanced around to see if she could find a reason to leave, but eventually sighed as she slumped back into her chair.

"It's just, well.." She paused, unsure how to explain. "I think that something might be wrong. I don't feel like myself anymore- I promise I'm not going insane I just.. Don't know." she blurted out the last part quickly and turned her head away to avoid eye-contact with her partner. Artem looked at her, noticing how her hands nervously intertwined with each other and the slight bouncing of her leg as she grew anxious.

"I'm happy you can talk to me, but I'm unsure on how to help. It's not really my, er, field of expertise." He pushed his chair back and stood up. "You take 2 sugars in your coffee, right?" Artem gently asked before sliding his chair back into place and walking towards the coffee machine. Rosa hesitantly nodded and slightly loosened up her stiff posture subconsciously.

"I just.. Don't feel.. Connected to who I was. I'm not really.. Rosa . I feel like a weird amalgamation of thoughts and feelings at the moment. I don't know what to do." Artem nodded, his back turned as he fiddled with the buttons on the coffee machine. Rosa sighed again. "I should probably go see someone about this." she muttered, looking into the rose-coloured mug that she had been given. Artem nodded again and sat back down.

"Sounds like a good idea. If you need, you're always able to take time off from the firm and from the investigation team if it all gets too much for you. And also," He took a long sip of his coffee. "Please look after yourself." Rosa smiled slightly and nodded.

"I will do my best, Mr Wing."

—

It was 3am and yet she was still in a trance. The face that looked back at her from the mirror had distorted, becoming uncanny and much unlike her own. A pair of scissors lay on the bathroom counter caught her eye and before she knew it, she had cut her hair short. She shook her head a bit and pulled at the jaggedly cut strands, inspecting the damage before putting down the scissors and starting to sweep off the rogue chunks of hair that sat on her shoulders. Sure, it was a bit drastic, but it made her feel better.

She looked down and studied the way that her pyjamas stretched and folded across her body. It didn’t look right. Something about it was wrong.. Something always had been wrong, to be honest. Rosa had known this for a long time, but it never had started to drag her down until now. She flicked the lightswitch off and fell into her bed, loaded with blankets and stuffed toys she had gotten from her friends. Rosa thought for a while, about work, about the NXX investigation, about her life in general, and about what she was going to do tommorrow. She already had the day off, from Celestine insisting that Rosa take a break, but other than work there wasn’t much else to do other than chores.

—

The rustling of the tree branches outside the apartment window woke Rosa up. The sun had risen, and it seemed about midday. She had planned to stay in all day and catch up on sleep, but after climbing down the stairs and discovering the fridge was empty except for a few day-old leftovers and some very sad-looking fruits, she very quickly changed her plan. Seeing her sorry excuse for a fridge she gently closed it and slowly climbed back up the stairs to put on clothes. It wasn’t anything fancy, just some sweatpants and a thick jacket as the wind had picked up.

Staring at the aisles of groceries at the small shop nearby, she kneeled down to grab something before being interrupted.

“Excuse me sir, did you-” The woman behind Rosa stopped abruptly and looked a bit panicked as Rosa turned around and looked at her. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry ma’am. Did you drop your wallet? I found one over there and was wondering if it was yours.” The stranger held out a red and gold wallet, with a rose embroidered on it. Rosa nodded and thanked the lady before going back to deciding what to buy. Something.. Felt right. Like all the pieces of a puzzle put together- But what was the puzzle? Was it being called sir? Was it having someone be kind?

The grocery store had been very quiet, since most people were working, but it still took a decent amount of time to grab everything she needed and check it out. There were some odd looks, reminding Rosa that she had, in fact, cut her hair very unevenly. Rosa noted that she needed to get it cut properly, lest she look like a failed craft project next time she saw a client. Only god knows what Celestine would say.

Despite multiple reminders to clean up her hair, it completely skipped Rosa’s mind. That was, until, Rosa was called into a meeting after there had been progress on the current NXX case. Despite her best efforts, the attempt at a quick trim was no better than the original. Walking into the investigation team office was the worst part. Only Luke had shown up early, but that did not help. Immediately after Rosa walked in, the look on Luke’s face went from focused to barely holding back a laugh. After seeing the tired look on Rosa’s face, he attempted to hide his smile, but it was a little too much.

“Nice haircut, Watson.”

“Thank you, Luke.” Rosa put down her bag and stretched before sitting down. Luke shuffled over and played with her hair.

“It looks nice on you. Short hair.” Rosa put her hand on Luke’s to stop him from making her hair worse.

“Do you think so? I cut it on a whim the other day. Not really sure if I like it or not.”

“It’s cute,” He petted her on the head and flicked his hand back before Rosa could slap his wrist. Luke leaned back in his chair and faced Rosa. “Reminds me of that time when we both tried to cut our own hair with safety scissors..? Back when we were little.”

“Oh god, yeah.” She ran her fingers through it. “You think you can fix it?”

He shrugged.

“I can try..?” He dug through his pockets and held up a pair scissors.

“Yes plea- Do you always have those in there..?” Rosa asked as she grabbed them off of him.

“Yeah,” He gently grabbed a piece of her hair and inspected it. “I can work with this. I’ll.. Maybe move to the bathroom..?”

#tears of themis #trans rosa #more trans rosa #ftm rosa #writing

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badasseryandriversong · 2 years

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well this turned into a novel... i have this ongoing idea where Dr. Erskine intended to made two super soldiers to start instead of one; a perfect team because after all, none should be handling a war alone. and when he chooses Steve, he asks Steve to choose who the other person will be because it needs to be someone he can work with well.

Steve wants to pick Bucky but he doesn’t know where the 107th is right now, let alone if they could pull Barnes from the field on such short notice. so he bides his time and keep training and even though he’s wheezing ten minutes into every drill he’s keeping his eyes open for someone who might fit the bill. but these men are brutes. they’re shallow and slobbish and not even half of the kind of guy Steve would even consider. he needs someone who at the very least had respect for other people, someone who can see the bigger picture, someone who can be trusted to do the right thing even at a personal cost.

it hits him the night before the procedure that agent Carter is all of those things and more. hell, Hodge hasn’t been able to meet her eyes since she punched the lights out of him. she’s strong, competent, and one of the only people who hasn’t made some stupid comment about him being chosen for this project over other candidates. Steve prepares a speech for Erskine, a verbal essay of a hundred reasons why she was a good choice because he’s sure the doctor will protest on the grounds that Carter is, in fact, a woman. But Erskine doesn’t question Steve for a second and pats him on the shoulder and smiles.

Peggy wakes up to Steve and Erskine banging on her barracks door at one in the bloody morning and honestly don’t you need to be sleeping because you’re supposed to be making history tomorrow and then they propose the idea to her and she suddenly understands why this couldn’t wait. she’s hesitant to accept right away. her supervising position doesn’t exactly leave room for other endeavors and certainly Phillips hasn’t agreed to this? Flynn? there would be riots and people could be fired over this and you could loose everything you’ve worked for. but Erskine is sure because Steve is sure and he’s looking at her with those big eyes, willing to bet absolutely everything on this. on her.

so she agrees and they don’t tell another soul who Steve’s choice is because there’s already regrets about the skinny kid from Brooklyn; who knows how they’d react to a woman, not even an American. the backlash would be catastrophic. the backlash is catastrophic the moment Peggy starts unbuttoning her shirt to get into the second vita-ray chamber and everyone realizes with horror what’s happening. the senators and generals and international liaisons who’d all come to watch are red in the face and screaming profanities and Carter you’d better get your ass out of there before I deport you. a few dedicated colonels try to push past and grab Erskine and they try to grab Stark, but Howard has already pressed the right buttons (and if Peggy’s not mistaken is laughing like a mad man all the way) and when the lights die down and the machines stops whirring and the two very sweaty but very enhanced individuals nearly fall to the floor coming out of the tanks, the room is silent.

her status is ripped away. she and Steve spend ten days days locked in the labs getting poked and prodded in every way imaginable (well, almost every way because Peggy cracks a window with the visiting doctor’s face when he starts suggesting pelvic exams). Steve apologizes to her a hundred times a day. he never wanted to take away her position that she worked so hard to get. she assures his she doesn’t hold him responsible for having faith and please stop saying sorry its not going to change anything. the world is not as good natured as he is; a lesson she’s learned many times over. she learns it again when she hears what the men have to say about her new physique when they think she can’t hear-- she can hear a pin drop in a crowded room now, but no one seems to remember that when they were discussing her new found hight and how can Rogers stand being near a freak dame like that? she not even a girl anymore, I bet.

they send Steve off: a dancing monkey in their political circus. they try to sweep her under the rug because god forbid someone find out their biggest scientific failure was due to a woman (not the axis agent who had killed Erskine which was apparently deemed unavoidable) they have no idea how to keep her busy but they sure as hell aren’t letting her out of their sights, even when they’re all relocated to Europe. she has access to the gyms and is allowed to sit in on some meetings, but strictly instructed to stay on the campus, keep to herself, and to report her whereabouts to Flynn, who is unfortunately in-charge of her case. weapons grade moron.

she could run. it would be so easy to just walk out the front gates and never come back, but she’s not a deserter. besides, Steve and Erskine (god rest his soul) are both having their names dragged through the mud. if she leaves, it will just be another mark of failure for this project, another reason to scold Steve for believing in her. no, the only way forward, the only way to make a difference is to convince Flynn to get off his damn high horse and let her do something useful but he already knows what she can do. he knows she can run over ten miles on a sprint without slowing. he knows she can jump onto ledges twenty feet above her head-- 50 feet if she gets a running start. Erskine would have been so proud. (she wonders if Steve has had the chance to test his abilities between USO shows) maybe it’s not enough to convince Flynn she belongs on the field, but it certainly catches the attention of others.

it starts in the mornings. the recruits are supposed to do certain warm ups everyday and Peggy is not supposed to drill the soldiers anymore, but that doesn’t mean she’s forgotten the routine. she wakes long before the sun rises and goes through the warm ups herself, free of the stares anyone might give her otherwise. she ends it with a run and is usually back in her quarters before the bugle boy plays his first notes. somewhere in the long months since the serum and since she’s started this early morning routine, people start watching her. she thinks nothing of it at first because it’s just one young private who she assumes can’t sleep. but then he brings a friend and that friend brings a friend and within a few weeks practically the whole company gets up early just to watch her expertly blaze through the obstacle courses they all still struggle with.

it’s uncomfortable at first because they’re all so silent. she’s almost tempted to change her routine and avoid the morning crowd until one of her audience gets the strange notion to start running with her. she’s not sure what to make of it as the boy sprints as hard as he can to keep pace with her, which works for about seven seconds before he falls behind. in the following days more brave soldiers try to jump into her morning exercises, some in the obstacle course and some on the run. not a single one of them can hold a candle to her skill, but there’s a strange camaraderie that blooms from the competition. no one curses her for being better. they pat each other on the back and laugh and regard her with an air of wonder. they start waving to her during the day like an old pal. freak dame starts to get replaced with new names. they call her Sargent Speed, Agent English, Miss Union Jack (really?), and Captain Carter. and the boys listen to their captain. in fact she’s the only one who these snot-nosed privates seem to listen to despite rank. Flynn hates it.

Officer Philips comes around once a month to check up on her. he’s got a soft spot for her, which she’s 100% certain of when he ‘lets slip’ that Steve will be visiting the 107th. Flynn tells her to stay put because her place is here at the 110th and they’re stationed thirty miles away where would you even get the means to get yourself over there but of course she does not stay put not and finds Steve back stage after he’s been properly chewed out by the crowd. they don’t have much time to catch up before the news about Barnes comes to light and Steve is practically packing his bags right then and there. but Peggy is more sensible about it. she gets the boys (her Morning Stars as she’s decided to call them) to cover for them as they sneak out that night. she convinces Stark to steal a plane and Steve, bless him, still finds himself worried about her. it’s all ‘you didn’t have to do this’ and ‘i’m not asking you to risk your life’ but damn him if she isn’t seeing this through to the end. Barnes is his friend and Steve is hers and this is exactly the sort of thing that Erskine had intended for them to be doing in the first place. being a team.

and as it turns out they are a spectacular team. they meet each other step for step, perfectly in sync as if they are extensions of each other. when she goes high he goes low. when he covers with that flimsy stage prop of a shield, she aims to kill. between the two of them they get more intel in one night than other companies have done in months. they burn the place to the ground and not a single soldier from their side is left behind. and when they march into camp some days later its nothing but happy screams and cheers (except for Flynn and a few officers) but Phillips finally has enough reason to take control of the case again so Peggy gets moved to the 107th and she and Steve get promoted to co-captains: captain America and captain...? they want to call her captain Britain, but Peggy hates it because she’s fighting against nationalism and Carter is just fine a name and she will absolutely not be dressing up in union jack memorabilia thank you very much. she does get a new uniform but luckily its all blue and nothing flashy. it’s Peggy’s idea to fit Steve with a better shield and Howard refuses to let them go until Peggy also chooses a signature thing and she picks a sword just so he’ll shut up (and maybe because there’s something poetic about the shield/sword dynamic but she won’t tell anyone that)

it’s just as well that Steve can’t escape the costume as he becomes the face of the war. all the posters and news articles and that time someone lets a camera crew follow them for a week--its all focused on him. she’s never mentioned in the papers and any shots of her from that movie are cut (except for her picture tucked in Steve’s compass, which she doesn’t know because who has time for the cinema when there’s a war on) Steve hates that she doesn’t get an ounce of credit and she assures him that she doesn’t mind because none of this is about credit and besides the only person who i’d want to know the truth is already fighting by my side. but even hidden from the public eye, Philips has angry letters and phone calls pouring in by the day because women aren’t captains but not one lawyer can touch him because his captains are successfully demolishing hydra bases faster than anything any one has ever seen. (Peggy has grown attached to the sword by then.)

and there are betting pools between the Howling Commandos and the Morning Stars about getting Steve and Peggy together. they play stupid pranks that end with the captains flush together and dangling by their feet, or switching their packs and making them interact at every chance, and one notable evening when oops they didn’t pack enough tents someone is going to have to share (which back fires when Peggy gets her own tent and Steve shares with Pinky.) Dugan even fakes a grievous injury and his ‘last request’ is for them to finally kiss each other which is how they realize he’s faking it but also how they realize their friends are making these stupid bets. it is stupid right? Peggy says as much, that Steve can do much better with a nice American girl at home who won’t break the fine china by gripping too hard. and Steve shrugs and admits that he never wanted a partner who thought she had to stay at home and serve him and before she can stop herself, she asks him what he imagines this hypothetical partner to be like and Steve describes with such affection a woman who knows her worth, who is strong and confident and doesn’t take shit from anyone, who knows she’s an equal and nothing less, and all the while he talks he is starting at his open compass.

I have a couple ideas of how the story could go from there but i can’t really decide so pick your own ending i guess? please feel free to have ideas with me

it could go like it does in the movie: they ‘loose’ Bucky and Peggy is on the airship when it goes down and in 70 years agents will find the frozen pair wrapped in each other’s arms trying to protect each other until the end. (agent Coulson can hardly contain himself with how hard he ships them)

or Steve is the one who is falls off the train and Peggy is forced to go more public as she takes up his shield mantle and fights with nothing left to loose, crashing the plane alone and leaving room for a wintersoldier!steve arc. (Bucky would found shield in this case).

or Peggy falls off the train and she gets the winter soldier arc and Steve dies all over again when he tries to tell future historians of the first female captain and super soldier but they don’t believe him (at least until later when he hunts down the paper evidence because damn it Peggy is going to be remembered they way he remembers her)

or maybe they’re both on the Valkyrie, but one of them falls out after the tesseract. they both freeze and they both think the other is dead when they’re thawed out in the future. maybe Steve and Peggy are found Separately, one by SHEILD and one by Hydra or some less friendly organization.

#peggy carter #steve rogers #captain america #captain carter #steggy #lmao this turned into a whole fanfic #feel free to flesh out this story is anyone wants to #or if stucky stans want to reimagine this with bucky thats cool #steve is our collective boyfriend we can share #im begging a better writer than me to make this fic a reality

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oikawaplssteponme · 3 years

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sweet creature

pairing: Hajime Iwaizumi x fem! reader

warnings: swearing, a little bit suggestive

genre: fluff, childhood friends to lovers, soulmates (?)

word count: ~2k

synopsis: Tying the tie between you and him took longer than it should have.

a/n: hi hi! here is some well over due fluff for you all!! this isn’t directly based off of the song ‘sweet creature’ but i felt it fit the vibes and since the song makes a little appearance ;) [ also shoutout to the anon who wanted some iwaizumi fluff <3 ] reblogs are greatly appreciated! enjoy xx

Looking back at it all, you never expected things to turn out the way they did. You never expected to find yourself in love with him. It was cliche, cheesy even. Everyone around you saw it before you did, saying you two were soulmates. In reality you were just clueless kids, unable to see that the universe had put you together perfectly. You needed him, no matter what form of him. He was your best friend after all, and a platonic soulmate was still good enough in your eyes.

But no, you were destined for something more.

Iwaizumi Hajime and you were two peas in a pod. From elementary school to now, you and him were inseparable. Scraping your knees together, attending everyone of his volleyball matches, you were always by each other’s side. It was no wonder why people assumed you were dating. Iwaizumi’s face would flush pink every time, insisting that the two of you were just really close friends. You would whisper in agreement, every time.

Was it wrong of you to want to be more?

It was the last week of high school, graduation just days away. You were over at Iwaizumi’s house as usual. You laid on his bed as he rummaged through his closet.

“Did you figure out what you are wearing for graduation?” he asked. You looked up from your phone.

“I think just a dress? I have two to pick from that I bought,” you explained.

“Okay, what colors are they?”

“One is blue and the other is white. Why?”

“I thought I could match my tie to your dress,” he said. Your eyes widened.

“Oh, o-okay.”

Iwaizumi grabbed a few button downs from his closet and laid them down on his bed, followed by the ties he owned.

“Help me pick.” You moved to the edge of the bed, scanning the clothes.

“I like the blue tie with the light grey shirt. You’d look like a waiter if you wore the black shirt and white tie,” you chuckled. Hajime huffed.

“Alright alright.”

Iwa grabbed his t-shirt and pulled it over his head. Your eyes darted to the floor.

“Uh what are you doing?”

“I’m gonna try it on dummy. I have to make sure it actually looks good,” he laughed. You looked back up at him. His perfectly chiseled figure standing before you as he tried to button up the shirt. You prayed that he couldn’t see that you were terribly flustered.

“These damn ties…” Iwaizumi groaned as he attempted to tie it. You chuckled.

“Come here.”

You hopped off the bed and stood close to Iwa, helping fix his tie.

“What are you gonna do when you go to college and I’m not gonna be there to tie your ties?” you smiled.

“I’ll call you and force you to come over and tie it for me.”

“I’ve been tying your ties since we were kids. I thought you would’ve learned by now.”

“Why would I bother learning when you can do it for me?” he teased. You chuckled.

“There, perfect.” You flatted the tie down, smiling.

“Thanks Y/N.”

You tilted your head back up, locking eyes with Hajime. You could stare into his eyes for hours, no issue. He chuckled.

“What are you staring at, huh?” Your face grew hot and you turned back around.

“Nothing…”

As the night drew on, you found yourself back at your place. Even though Iwa was just a house away, you wished you were still with him. You peaked out your window, hoping to see Iwa looking out of his. His curtains were open but the lights were off. You assumed that he was with Oikawa.

You looked at the calendar pinned to your wall. Two days of high school left. It was a strange feeling. The mix of anticipation and nervousness all into one. You were excited for summer. Day in and day out you could be spending time with Iwaizumi, just like every summer before. Of course, you’d much rather spend summer with him a little differently, but you knew that was unlikely.

You heard the familiar buzz of your cell phone, as the ringtone began to play. Your face lit up, as you recognized the noise. Only one person in your phone had this ringtone.

“Hello?”

“Window-”

The call ended quickly. You smiled, rushing to your window and opening it up.

“HI Y/N!” shouted Oikawa. You chuckled.

“How was studying?” you asked. Iwa sighed.

“This idiot barely finished his chemistry. He was busy blabbing about his graduation party.”

“I expect you to be there Y/N!”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. It’s this Saturday right?”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to have mine on the same day as yours and Iwa-chan’s,” explained Oikawa.

“Good choice,” teased Hajime. You and Iwa decided to do a small party for graduation together. Just family and close friends.

“Hey show me your dress,” insisted Iwaizumi. You grinned, heading to your closet and picking it out. Due to Iwaizumi’s blue tie, you decided to go with the blue dress.

“Woah there Y/N, you’re gonna take Iwa-chan’s breath away-”

“SHUT IT SHIT HEAD-,” Iwa smacked Oikawa upside the head, “don’t you have to go home?”

Oikawa checked his watch, before scrambling to get his things.

“Shit my mom’s gonna kill me- BYE!”

You chuckled, looking back at Iwaizumi. He cleared his throat.

“You’re gonna look beautiful Y/N.”

You tried to hold back your smile, but the heat rising in your face made it nearly impossible.

“Thank you.”

“I mean, you always are beautiful, but that dress might just set a new record for you,” he smirked. You pressed your lips together.

“Iwa…”

“Well we should both get some sleep,” he said. You nodded.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

“Goodnight Hajime.”

You closed your window, then your curtains. You placed your dress back on a hanger, before plopping onto your bed. You felt all giddy inside, like a little kid. The butterflies in your stomach could fill an entire room. Did he mean those words in a ‘best friend’ sort of way? He had to, right? In all honesty you didn’t care about the context. After all, he still said it. Your smile was the same regardless.

“Smile you two!”

Iwaizumi’s mother had been taking pictures for the last thirty minutes, and you were honestly getting a little exhausted from posing.

“Mom that's enough-”

“One more! Hajime, stand behind Y/N.”

Iwa sighed. He did as he was told, moving behind you. He placed his large hands onto your waist, hugging you from behind. You tried not to react, still smiling at the camera.

“Okay okay now look at each other.”

You looked at Iwa, staring into those deep dark eyes. His face was so close to yours, you could smell the mint he had earlier.

“I’m sorry about this,” he mumbled. You giggled.

“It's okay.”

“Alright I got all the pictures I need.”

You keep looking at him, but more relaxed. Iwa didn’t move a muscle, as if he didn’t wish to let go of you. You weren’t sure if it was your imagination or not, but you swore that Iwa looked as if he was leaning in to-

“ALRIGHTY LETS GO! Grad party time!” cheered Oikawa. You and Iwa broke away from each other. You cupped your burning face as he cleared his throat.

“Y-Yeah lets go.”

You all headed to the Iwaizumi residence. There, you opened graduation gifts, jokes with friends, and even reminisced a bit on yours and Hajime’s childhood.

“I remember when you would make me catch bugs with you all the time! I hated doing that,” you joked.

“Okay but I always let the bugs go, didn’t I?”

“Aw Iwa-chan can’t hurt a fly-”

“But I can hurt you-”

“WAIT-”

You watched as Iwa and Oikawa fought as if they were kids before going to grab something to drink.

The night escalated to Toru finding the old karaoke machine and challenging Makki to a sing-off (which he declined). You sat on the couch with Iwa as the commotion in the room elevated.

“Do you want to go upstairs?” he asked you. You let out a sigh of relief and nodded.

Hajime opened the door to his room, allowing you inside. He shut it, helping to keep things quieter.

“Wait a minute-”

You rushed over to the corner of his room.

“You can play the guitar?”

You picked up the instrument and examined it carefully. The guitar didn’t look new. In fact, it had to be a few years old.

Iwa took the guitar from your hands, holding it to his chest as his face grew in color.

“I-I can’t really play…”

“I have known you my entire life yet I never knew you had a guitar. Guess I’m a pretty shitty friend.”

“No not at all. I just- I don’t tell people that I can play…” he mumbled. You smiled, taking a step towards him.

“Could you play something for me? I won’t tell.”

Iwa looked at you, his eyes widened. He swallowed harshly.

“Of course.”

The two of you sat down on his bed. Hajime began to tune the guitar, his hands a little shaky. You placed your hand on his cheek. He looked at you intently.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I kinda put you on the spot there…”

“No I want to...I have a song in mind that I’ve been meaning to play for you.”

You smiled, nodding. You took your hand away, placing it back in your lap. Iwa took a deep breath, before carefullying picking at the strings.

He played a calming melody, one that you’ve heard before. Your heart melted the minute you realized what song he played.

“Sweet creature...had another talk about where it's going wrong…”

His voice was low and quiet, yet smooth and soft. You tried to hold back a smile and a few tears.

“I know when we started, just two hearts in one home…”

He sang to you. He was playing for you. Pleading that you understood what he was trying to say. Everyone fights, everyone has disagreements, it’s normal in every relationship. It was as if the letters of the lyrics were rearranged to say: “lets just try”.

You two would be leaving for university soon, that was inevitable. However, Iwaizumi never felt happier than when he was by your side.

“When I run out of road, you bring me home.”

Hajime played the final cord, before falling silent.

“Haj-”

“I know how to tie my ties. I just say I don’t so that you’ll do it for me. So that you’ll stand a little closer to me. So that I can smell the same perfume that you’ve worn since middle school. So that I can look into your eyes, and see the world within them. I’ve known how to tie my own ties since I was eight years old, but that's also the same age that I realized that I was in love with you.”

You couldn't seem to find the words. Your mouth hung open a bit, causing Iwa to get even more nervous. He set the guitar down on the floor, before burying his hands in his face.

“God I’m such an idiot-”

You took Iwaizumi’s hands and moved them from his face.

“Look Y/N I-”

He was unable to finish his sentence, as you had crashed your lips into his. His eyes were wide before he shut them tightly, cupping your face and kissing you hungrily. You wrapped your arms around his neck, running your fingers through is dark hair. Iwa couldn’t seem to get enough, bringing you impossibly closer to him as he deepened the kiss.

“Hajime…” you whispered, catching your breath. Iwa placed another peck on your lips.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

You were shaking, the familiar sensation of nervousness and anticipation rushed through your veins. Iwaizumi took your hand, placing a kiss on top of it.

“I love you.”

Looking back at it all, you should’ve known it was bound to happen. Maybe it was the fear of rejection that blinded you from the truth. Maybe you had to hear that it might not always be easy in order to realize that it was still worth it. It certainly was worth the risk. Love is the strongest adhesive, keeping people together no matter distance, disagreements, or destiny. Luck for you and Hajime, your destiny was the one you had always hoped for.

[general taglist: @lealofsblog @iwaisa @bakugousmymassa @evivn1 @bokutory @vangoghmusings @moonlightaangel @misszenin @marajillana @sopesmin @alaina-rose13 @shotoful @katlingclaw ]

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ghostiiiee · 3 years

Text

Just Like Me

To read at my Ao3 CLICK HERE This is the first chapter. sorry is its a little rough. :sweatdrop:

Almost forgot! Tw: i will be going heavy on quirkless discrimination and mental health issues. Theres not much in the first chapter but i do want to touch on it at some point.

School was never something he looked forward to. After all, what was there to look forward to? He was used to getting bullied, made fun of for being different, called names, shoved around. The irony wasn’t lost on him. Many years ago, maybe he would have been the normal one?

Then again, what even was normal?

It used to be normal to go to school- learn history, math, science and whatever language the school taught.

It used to be normal to not have any powers, after all - superheroes were a dream. Stories people made up to tell themselves. Heroes existed, yes, but they never had powers. Heroes were just people, average people.

Again, there's another word that's changed. Average.

Normal. Average.

Two hundred years ago, it was normal for the average person to look human.

Two hundred years ago, it was normal for the average person to have no powers.

Two hundred years ago, it was normal for superheroes to only be a thing of stories.

That was two hundred years ago. Not now.

Now it's weird to not have powers.

Now you get bullied for being regular. Quirkless.

One of 20%.

Mathematically, he thought it was stupid that so many people get treated so differently. He did remember Mr. Lancer telling him of people getting treated for less. Mr. Lancer told him two hundred years ago, 10% of the population was seen as satanic because of what hand they used to write with. A similar estimated percent was discriminated against because of who they loved, or what they identified as.

“Sadly, Mr. Fenton, the human race has a history of not tolerating those who they see as a minority.”

“I remember that from history Mr. Lancer.” Danny sighed, leaning his head on his hand. His eyes stared out the window, looking at the stormy weather. “I remember you talking about how things used to be.”

The teacher pursed his lips, staying quiet and looking at him with concern.

Lancer had asked Danny to stay after class to speak to him. He never did like how Daniel’s peers would gang up on him after school ended. The best he could usually do was this. Casper’s principal was... far too likely to be accepting of anything the more wealthy students’ parents had to say.

“Is that why you’ve been spacing out all day then, Danny?”

It was asked gently. Danny’s eyes glanced over to the balding teacher before darting back to the window. He hummed for a moment. “...Kinda. I got a lot on my mind.”

“Penny for your thoughts then?” Lancer pulled his chair next to his desk.

It was quiet for a few minutes, the sound of rain gently pattering against the classroom windows filled the room while Danny collected his thoughts. Blue eyes watched raindrops roll down the glass.

“I don’t get it, Mr. Lancer.” His voice was quiet as the floodgates opened. “Everyone in my family has quirks. Dad is strong. My mom can copy anyone’s fighting styles just by watching. Jazz can look at someone and-.... well you know.” He sank down into his chair. “Aunty A, even has a quirk. I've never seen her miss a shot. And then there's me. Daniel James Fenton. The first quirkless person in our family in a long time. Don’t get me wrong either, it doesn’t bother me too much.” Liar. “It’s just... it feels like the cherry on top of everything else.

“My parents got an invitation to teach some classes at UA in Japan. In Japan, I've never lived anywhere but here. Amity Park. It’s not like they can leave me here. PLUS, Jazz has always wanted to go there for the General studies.”

“I understand your concern, Danny. But I’ve seen your work,” There was slight amusement in Mr. Lancers voice. “Aren’t you good at building things? I know I’ve caught you tinkering with something more than once in class.”

Danny’s face flushed red. “...My parent’s usually make those. They’re old models of support gear they have made. I was seeing if I could get a glitch out.”

“And?”

“...I keep shocking myself.” He mumbled. “It hurts like hell.”

“While I can’t say I’m happy that you are getting injured. As long as you are safe, I'm glad.” Mr. Lancer offered a smile to the teen. “As for the other predicament, you are always open to contact me if you need me after you move.”

“Thank you Mr. Lancer.”

~~~~~~~

Danny was thankful that they moved over the summer and not in the middle of the year. School was already hectic enough as was. Moving in the middle of the year was not something he ever wanted to do, let alone moving across the globe in the middle of the year.

He kept to himself for the first few weeks. He liked to walk around, exploring the new area. It felt different than Amity park. More crowded. He noted early on there was definitely more hero around too. It didn’t bother him too much.

That's a lie.

More heroes means more villains.

He didn’t like villains.

He also didn’t like being a hostage.

Lucky him!

He was held hostage by a villain not even before the end of the second week. Not that this was a first time experience for him, having been a favorite target back in Amity Park. He knew all the heroes back home personally because of it. People just loved to take quirkless people hostage. One would think, with the target that seems to hang over his head, that Daniel James Fenton wouldn’t take such risks as walking around alone at night. One would think that if he did, it would be out of necessity, and he would at least have something on him to defend himself.

...yeah no that's not the case. Why in the world would that be the case?

Danny was shoved onto the ground, air leaving his lungs as he hit. He gasped for air, trying to look at who was targeting him now. He couldn’t really tell much about the person, ratty clothes and a hoodie pulled up to cover their face. Nothing could be seen under the hood, it was just shadow, pure, black shadow.

“What’s a runt like you doing out right now?” The villain crouched next to Danny. Chuckling when he tried to scoot away. They put a foot on one of Danny’s wrists, “Ah-ah. Now that’s rude. I’m talking to you punk.”

Danny didn’t respond, wincing at the pressure on his arm.

“It’s rather rude to ignore your elders.” The villain put more pressure, adjusting so they were crouched like a vulture next to prey.

“F-fuck you. I’ve seen worse.” He growled

The regret in saying that was nearly instant. In the blink of an eye, the ground next to his head - that was solid concrete what the hell- was shattered. The villain was making an inhuman noise, a low gutteral sound coming from them. “You haven’t seen my worst. I wasn’t gonna do much to ya, but I’m starting to change my mind kid.”

He knew he should do anything else - he was already on a thin line - but fuck it. He had a free hand anyways. He grabbed something from his pocket and slammed it against the villain. “As I said before. Fuck. You.” He pressed the button on the side.

The machine sparked to life. Quite literally. Danny still didn’t know what it was supposed to do, but he could make it shock things. Like a weird taser. Unlucky for Danny he was literally pinned to the ground beneath the villain getting tased. And as everyone knows. Humans are conductive. Very conductive.

Strangely the villain didn't even flinch. The growl getting louder as they grabbed the device from their shoulder and crushed it with their hand. Danny started shaking. Okay so that was a horrible idea.

The shadows of the alley gathered around the villain. Climbing up their clothing and slowly slithering along their arm. They held Danny down, forming chains around him. In the villain’s hand, a knife, absorbing all light, The villian made the move to attack, and Danny closed his eyes, waiting for the pain to come.

It never did.

It lessened.

Weight lifted from him, a weight he hadn’t realized was there besides his arm. Tentatively he opened his eyes.

The villain was on the ground a few meters away from him, knocked out and tied up to a fire exit- similar to how Batman would leave criminals for the cops. Danny blinked. He hadn’t heard anything. So what in the world happened? And how could that have happened so fast?

Standing up, he looked around for a sign of anyone being there to help him.

Oddly enough. It seemed no one had caused the villain to go down, at least not that Danny could see. Blue eyes scanned the area for a moment, looking for anything that wasn’t there before. Nothing popped out. Nothing was out of place. It looked like no one had been there.

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. The air condensed, forming mist as it left his mouth and floated away. It was like when he first stepped outside in the winter. Which was strange- it was the middle of summer. A small frown formed on his face. The nights here weren’t that cold normally.

He brushed it off, ignoring the goosebumps running along his skin as the air chilled. Perhaps whoever knocked the villain out had a rather cold quirk, he mused to himself. Heroes normally make themselves known at this point, checking to see if he was okay.

He had an inkling it wasn’t a hero. At least not a licensed one. Not that he minded. He didn’t care who it was really. They saved his life… he was grateful for that.

Danny looked up to the clear sky, moonlight peaking over the buildings enough to illuminate the alley where the street lights glowed. He smiled up to the stars. “Thank you.” He said softly. “I wasn’t paying attention tonight.”

He left the alley, starting his way back home. He never caught sight of the figure watching him.

#Danny Phantom #danny fenton #mha x dp #bnha #mha

58 notes · View notes

soulwillower · 4 years

Text

hot sugar • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader smut)

[the title is taken from the song by glass animals but has nothing to do with the fic LOL]

request: okay so i just saw ur requests are open again and well ive has this idea for a while (dont even ask me why😳) but uh imagine being Richie’s girl and u go watch him playing street fighter and u get turned cause man those hands (😳) and he just v aggressive and HOT so u basically start teasing him until our poor boy snaps and then cue the rough smut??? LMFAO i know its wAck so UH FORGIVE ME MY SIMP ASS AINSLEE🤧🤧- 🧩

warnings: swearing, smut, public smut, unprotected sex, degradation, dirty talk, use of the word slut, bit of choking, praise kink, uhhh hair pulling, the works! super unedited, i will go back in and edit soon i promise

(losers + reader are in 18+ in this.)

3.6k words

♡

the arcade was a place that, growing up, was almost like a safe haven.

being who you are, you grew up being tormented by bowers and his dangerous friends constantly, always looking over your shoulder for that shiny red car or walking home in groups. but now, you and your friends are much older and less afraid of useless middle school bullies.

awkward limbs grew and filled out, teeth straightened and voices dropped. your friends all became incredibly hot. you did, too. and then you and richie started dating - things changed.

one thing that stuck in the five years since you were thirteen was the arcade, though.

richie's leaned casually over the street fighter machine, almost towering over it at his height, his hair tousled from his fingers running through it. the fluorescent lights from the game reflect onto his skin, casting shadows from his sharp jaw and cheekbones, his bottom lip caught in between his pristine teeth. you resist a groan as you walk closer, eyes falling to his face where he's concentrated on the screen in front of him.

"fuck." he hisses as he messes up, throwing his head back and exposing the pale expanse of his throat, a sight that has you clenching your thighs as you mumble with a dry throat, "hi, rich."

he looks at you for a second, flashing his signature smile as he pecks you quickly on the cheek. "hey, sugar." he says, "sorry, i'm just about to beat this high score." he says, eyes immediately focusing back on the game. you roll your eyes, "isn't the high score already yours?" you ask.

he's too enthralled with the video game to respond. you almost leave, but your eyes flick down to his hands and you nearly pass out as you see his fingers moving over the buttons, maneuvering the joystick in a way that makes his veins pop out of his arms and hands.

you clear your throat, eyes glued to his hands, imagining them on your skin. they're so large, it always shocks you when he's got his hands on you how much of your body they cover in one grip. fe flicks his fingers and you resist the urge to moan out loud, imagining the way his fingers would feel on your thighs, your stomach, your face, wrapped around your throat, or buried deep inside you....

god, those hands.

you shake your head a bit, face turning red. with a quick glance around, you see that the arcade is nearly empty, so you use the opportunity to lean up and pepper kisses along the junction of his shoulder and neck. he hums slightly and you can hear the grin in his voice. "baby, i'm busy." he says not unkindly, leaning into your touch despite being enamored with the game in front of him.

you pout, falling back to the balls of your feet as you stare up at him with wide eyes. he looks like fucking heaven right now with his mouth slightly open, a concentrated look on his face as he's lit up in blue and red hues by the bright neon of the arcade.

his hands fly around, catching in the light and making you tense, heat pooling between your legs as you think about his fingers on you. the lust is overwhelming as you stand next to him, desperately trying to keep your eyes on the video game screen and not on his hands - but you can't, and you decide to tease him a bit.

your eyes catch the boy who's working the front counter, sam, and you grin a bit, silently leaving richie's side and stalking over to the counter. the boy greets you with a smile and you ask him for a cherry coke, making sure you're leaning against the counter enough so that richie's eyes which are burning holes into your back move down your body and stare at your ass, where it's nearly on full display under your skirt.

you turn your head over your shoulder for a quick peek and get immediate shivers when richie's eyes meet yours from directly across the way - the arcade game positioned so that barely a turn of the jaw allows him full view of your backside. and your lace panties.

when sam returns with your coke, you smile at him and take a sip, making sure you wiggle your hips teasingly in case richie's piercing gaze is still on you.

sam's cheek turn lightly pink, and so you wink at him and turn and leave, tossing a few coins into the tip jar.

you know it's a cheap shot, but you pretend to fumble with a coin and drop it on the way back, bending over and picking it up, staying longer than necessary so richie knows that sam could see it.

when you straighten up again you barely look over to sam, but his eyes are wide and cheeks red as he looks away, wiping the bar with a rag. you smirk as you look back to richie.

he's always too easy to rile up.

he's glaring at you like nothing else, his eyes piercing and jaw set tightly. "rich, i'm going to go wait at the car." you call, your lips wrapping around your straw and hollowing your cheeks as you take a sip. his jaw sets again and he glares at you, so you wink and turn around, proud of yourself.

you don't hear the noise of the richie's character in street fighter losing, and you barely hear the footsteps until they catch right up to you.

and then richie pushes you up against the wall of the hallway, only maybe fifteen feet around the corner from the arcade bar, and kisses you hotly on the mouth. heat instantly pools in your panties and you whimper into his mouth. his hands hold you possessively as he pulls back and you gasp for air.

"you're a fucking tease." he snaps, eyes dark. your own eyes widen in shock from his snap. his lips press to your neck and he sucks lightly, his hips pressing against you and causing you to gasp again.

"such a needly slut, hmm?" he purrs in your ear, biting on the lobe as his fingers slide up your bare thighs and rub your slit over your lace panties, making you whimper quietly. "couldn't even wait for me to be done with my game." he mutters, fingers pulling aside your panties and plunging immediately into you, making you grip his shoulders and bite back a loud moan.

"richie." you whimper quietly, eyes shooting to the left, down the hall where sam works, clueless that you're pressed against the wall with richie's hand up your skirt.

he's pumping his fingers in a way that has your legs completely shaking, your grip on his shoulders and his hand pinning your hip to the wall being the only things preventing you from crumbling to the floor. he hooks his fingers slightly, pressing against your g spot as you bite back the need to wail in pleasure.

you look then towards the exit, only twenty-six feet away, and shiver when you think anybody could walk right in.

your eyes meet his and his smirk is cockier than ever, an eyebrow raised as he watches you and tuts. "are you afraid someone's gonna see?" he says lowly, his fingers hitting a spot inside you that already has your stomach curling as the oncoming of an orgasm makes you whimper as quietly as you can.

he tilts his head, a devilish smirk on his face. "or would you like that? you want sam to see how much of a slut you are for my fingers?”

all you can do is moan dejectedly, the pleasure rendering you unable to form cohesive words. richie continues, “what d’you think, should i just fuck you right here? spread those pretty legs and show everyone how much you want me?” his words make you moan, “bet you'd like that, huh?”"

you buck your hips, cheeks bright red as your eyes clench shut, feeling yourself nearing your peak. richie laughs lightly, "d'you want him to see how desperate you are for it? how well you i stretch you out, like you were made just for my cock?"

your eyes are rolled back slightly, legs shaking as your fingers grip onto his arms so hard you're sure there will be half-moon crescent shapes there for days after.

he hums again as you buck your hips, "are you close, baby?" he asks, his fingers fucking you into the wall. you nod weakly, eyes shut in pure bliss.

"yeah?” he asks softly, and you nod. "say it, y/n/n." he orders, sending chills down your spine.

you open your eyes and meet his, loving and full of lust. you moan quietly, "richie, m'gonna cum." you say weakly, whimpers escaping your lips.

"yeah? right now?" he asks again, and you feel yourself about to cum.

he presses his thumb to your neglected clit and holds it there as he thrusts and you clench your legs slightly at the pleasure coursing through you, your toes curling.

and then, just as you almost hit your high, he pulls out of you with a smirk.

you gasp loudly at the feeling and then you're left with the feeling of nothing, the feeling of tease lingering in your head as you stare at him.

his smirk is wide.

"go to the car." he purrs it out and you're weak in the knees, staring at him with wide eyes. your chest is heaving, eyes wide as you stare at him in disbelief. you whimper as you feel your crest fading, the absence of his hand from under your skirt making you almost pout.

"but-" you start, but he gives you a look that immediately shuts your mouth. you wordlessly turn and leave towards his car in the lot, carrying yourself on shaky legs, sensitive and desperately horny.

the ride home is absolute torture.

richie's got his jaw set tightly, but one glance down to his bulge tells you that he's just as desperate to get home as you are. his hand rests on your bare thigh.

you stare down at it, thinking about how seconds his fingers were buried deep inside you, and now they grip your thigh lightly, the veins in his hand smoothing all the way up his forearm.

you squirm slightly, restlessly - you don't dare do anything more, though.

and then, about two minutes from richie's house, his hand moves. it slides up until your skirt is lifted and his fingers find purchase on the lace covering your clit, making your breath catch in your throat. gently, so lightly, his finger rubs in a circle, and you let out a loud moan as you let your head fall back onto the headrest. "richie, please." your beg sounds broken and you turn red at the desperation in your voice.

he just smirks, his dimple popping out as he takes the turn to his street, finger pressure enough to make your stomach coil with need, but not enough to be satisfying.

and then you're getting out of his parked car, following him with a pounding heart as you watch his broad shoulders move under his dark shirt as he opens the front door. "there better not be anybody home." he says, back still turned to you. you follow him as he toes off his shoes and you mumble, "what?" to make sure you heard him clearly.

you're suddenly face to face with richie, "i said i hope there's nobody home, because i'm going to fuck you right here so hard you scream."

your stomach drops and your eyes widen in shock, butterflies filling you as his lips smash against yours abruptly. you exhale and let out a breathy whine into his own mouth, his hands grabbing your hips to steady you as you stumble back towards the stairs.

his tongue swirls around yours, hands dropping to palm your ass and making you squeak as he pinches you with one hand.

"such a fuckin' tease." he growls, tongue sliding along your lip as he nudges you, making you fall a bit towards the staircase, richie finding purchase between your legs and immediately grinding down on you. the feeling makes you moan loudly, the high walls of the entry room making your voice carry through the house. "richie, please fuck me. please." you beg, fingers tugging on his neck, pressing your lips desperately to his.

he's rutting his hips against yours, his hard cock pressing against your heat and making you pant with need as you tug his curly strands. his hands then move as he kneels on the steps, undoing his pants and pulling himself out of his boxers, his hard cock slapping against his abdomen.

you groan as you watch his hands pump himself and you whimper slightly as you buck your hips, desperate for him.

and then his hand is grabbing your face, thumb holding your chin as he turns your head to look right at him. "you better do exactly what i say, princess." he says, looking into your eyes. you nod, his thumb grip stern as he lines up at your entrance.

"yes, richie, yes. wan' it so bad, please." you mutter, making him smirk. "good girl." he says, cutting whatever you were going to add off as he pushes into you fully.

the sudden stretch fills you to the brim and you let out a guttural noise at the feeling. your back rubs uncomfortably against the carpet of the stairs as he pushes into you, but your hands grip his shoulders and all you can think about is richie.

"fuck, rich." you mumble, moaning his name as he starts thrusting, building his pace until he's snapping his hips into yours.

“good girl, begging for me.” his hands grip your thighs, holding them open as your eyes roll back slightly, “look at you, all wrecked on my cock like a good slut.” he pounds you into the stairs, lips then falling to suck large marks on your neck, the stinging pleasure adding to the volume of your moans.

his hands rise to lift your shirt up over your chest, sliding up to quickly undo your bra and whipping it off, his hips still snapping in an unforgiving pace. you feel him so deep inside of you that tears prick at your eyes, the pleasure building instantly. he tosses your bra to the floor and then his lips are attached to your nipple, tongue flicking the sensitive bud and then his teeth slightly grazing it.

you keen loudly, back arching as you yelp his name. he pulls back to look at you, hand tugging on your hair so you look at him as he pounds into you. "look at you, such a brat teasing me at the arcade.” his voice is deep and rough, "look at you now, drunk on my cock. you just needed to remember who's you are, huh?" he coos, pressing a kiss to your temple as a tear escapes your eye, the feeling overwhelming as your orgasm creeps up for the third time.

your fingers dive under his shirt and scratch down his bare back, making him hiss and hum slightly, gripping your hips and lifting you slightly.

the new angle has you really screaming, his cock pressing deep inside you from the brutal snap of his hips forcing you back against the stairs.

you feel exposed with your shirt pulled up, tits bouncing with his thrusts as your skirt is pushed up and he fucks you senseless out in the open.

"such a little slut, all for me... so fuckin' pretty, baby." he's muttering. and he kisses you like he's claiming you, his teeth clashing slightly with yours and his tongue dominating. you're weak, legs shaking as he pounds into you.

you moan, your stomach clenching in ecstasy as you moan out his name, coming closer with each harsh thrust, “richie, fuck, im-”

“-you gonna cum on my cock like the good slut you are?" he mutters, hand rising to grip your throat lightly. you whimper, face red from the pleasure added from the light squeezing of his hand. "you look so pretty like this, princess." he says, eyes admiring the smudged makeup of your eyes, the blissed, fucked-out look on your face. your neck is littered in blossoming hickes, varying from pink to dark red and slightly purple already. "you can be so good sometimes, just have to fuck you senseless first, huh?" he asks, smirking. his lips curl in a way that has you clenching hard around his cock, his dimples and inquiring eyes making you moan.

"i want you to cum for me, honey." he mutters against your neck, pressing kisses to it as he rubs your clit again, your legs instantly shaking as you cry out.

your climax hits you hard and you're moaning and arching your back as he holds you against him.

he doesnt stop moving after you cum, but just keeps thrusting harder. his hands come to play with your tits, roughly palming them as he fucks you harder into the stairs. as he continues to slam his hips against yours, he hums, "isn't this what you wanted, baby?" he asks as he thumbs away another tear.

"you wanna get fucked until you can't thing, huh?" he mutters, lifting your hips again and hitting deep inside of you, making you cry out as you clench and spasm around him. you can only whimper as one of his hands falls to grip your thigh and slides up to your ass, slapping it harshly and making you moan loud.

you're bucking your hips up with his, desperately chasing a growing second orgasm despite the sensitivity of your first one. he chuckles against your neck, "and you're still begging for it. such a slut for me. who's pussy is this?"

he's filling you so well and you let out a half-sob, half moan. "that's not a name, baby." he says, voice cocky as he rams into you. you look at him, biting your lip. "yours, richie - fuck, oh my god." you moan, and he's satisfied with that answer because he hums and rubs your clit again.

"you gonna cum for me again like a good girl?" he hums in your ear, lips brushing your ear lobe and making you nod, holding him close as your second orgasm hits you harder, pulsing around his cock.

"fucking tease." he groans as he grips your hips and slams into you, milking you through your orgasm as he hits his own.

you mutter, “please cum richie, need it so bad, please.” as you look at him desperately, and his eyes fall shut in bliss, a deep groan leaving his lips as he thrusts one last time into you, stilling as he cums. you're warm and sensitive as he slowly rocks his hips, beautiful moans falling from his cherry colored lips as he spills inside of you, "fuck, baby. took me so good, fuck."

you look up at him with wide eyes as he kisses your cheeks and then your nose, wiping away a few stray tears and then softly meeting your lips. he pulls out gently, sliding your panties up as you feel his cum spill over your entrance. “god, you were so perfect for me, sugar.” he mutters as he collapses next to you, combing your hair and pulling you towards him.

he kisses you softly.

your mind is still fuzzy, tears drying on your hairline as richie trails his fingers lightly over your skin and places loving kisses to your face, but you are fairly certain you hear the sound of richie's garage door.

immediately you both jolt up, eyes wide as you look at each other, hair mussed up and lips kiss-bruised. but richie just fucked you so hard that you're not even sure you can walk; one glance over says richie's having the same thought.

you don't even have time to push down your skirt or shirt as his parents enter the house, and then richie's lifting you from the stairs, stumbling over himself to make it up to his bedroom while the sound of his family echoes into the entrance room. your heart is pounding.

"richie!?" you hear his mom call just as he sets you on his bed, and he looks at you with alarmed eyes. you look back, flustered but confused - why does he look like he's seen a ghost?

"what's wrong, rich?" you ask, hand falling onto his arm. his eyes are wide, cheeks slightly pink.

"y/n, your bra." he mutters, making your heart stop, remembering as he'd ripped it from you and tossed it just next to the staircase. your face turns bright red and richie huffs a half-laugh.

"fuck."

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @simplesammyx @sft-core @clownsloveyou @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @finnskindofwoman @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @cowbellies @deepestofwaters

#richie tozier smut #richie tozier x reader #losers x reader #losers club x reader #we simp for richie every day #FUCK #bill denbrough x reader #stanley uris x reader #mike hanlon x reader #beverly marsh x reader #ben hanscom x reader #eddie kaspbrak x reader

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meltwonu · 3 years

Text

| 🎃 𝕸𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖍 🎃 |

↪ ✦ heavy ✦

this chapter pairing; snakehybrid!woozi&bunnyhybrid!dino x reader

genre&warnings; Snake Eyes!AU, threesome, dom!jihoon, oral(fem receiving), fingering, creampies, cum eating/cum sharing, breeding kink, dirty talk, but also a bit of crack lbr, jihoon and chan being little shits 😩😭.

notes; you don’t have to have read Snake Eyes to read this! It’s not part of the main plot! 💕🐍 also the--☠️ draft for this was literally from 2013 and I literally ran it through the hot setting on the washing machine and put it in the dryer 3 times to get it to what it is today ☠️ Also!!! the final chapter of Monster Mash!!! omg!!! I can’t believe it’s done AND to end it with a Snake Eyes au chapter!! 😭😩 Enjoy!! Have a great rest of the weekend!!! I love u!! Happy Halloween!! 🎃👻 💕

word count; ~4300

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13

it’s heavy;

heavy how i want you so bad

heavy when it hits me so fast;

heavy and it’s driving me mad

that i’m never gonna give you up!

“OH MY FUCK--GOD!” A shrill voice cuts through the nearly empty living room; three forms huddled together on the sofa as the horror movie continued on the tv screen.

“Are you serious right now, Jihoon? Nothing even happened yet and you screamed!!” You tease.

You’d come to learn that Jihoon quite actually hated horror films.

And apparently so did Chan.

Your eyes scan over Jihoon’s frame squished into your side as his own eyes leave the tv for the 60th time that night; his grip on your waist tightening as he digs his face into your shoulder. “I can’t do it, I’m trying to look at the corner of the screen but I just know something’s going to pop out, I just know it, I--”

“Hyung, she’s right you know, nothing’s even--FUCK WHAT WAS THAT!?” Chan jolts at the screen, his own arms tangling with Jihoon’s around your waist in fear as the demon in the movie re-emerges from a dark closet.

You sigh, wondering why Minghao and the others hadn’t replied to any of your calls and messages; leaving you alone with Jihoon and Chan on this dark and rainy Halloween night. And you loved Jihoon with your whole heart and taking care of cute Chan was always fun but everyone being missing and unreachable seemed a little peculiar.

Even to you.

“You guys, it’s not even real. Look, c’mon, nobody is going to pop out of the closet later. I’m sure Mingyu would kill whatever came crawling out of the closet Jihoon and Chan, do you even have a closet for demons to come out of?” You tried to lighten the mood and reassure them as you pry their clammy fingers from your midsection.

They simultaneously shoot you a glare, crossing their arms as you separate yourself from their bodies.

“I really don’t get how you two are so easily scared by these horrible movies!”

Chan pouts, “Well hybrids exist so surely demons do too!” You shoot him a dumbfounded look, “That literally has zero correlation.”

“Whatever, I’m gonna grab more popcorn and I’ll be back.” Jihoon grumbles; eyes avoiding the screen as he scurries off to the kitchen.

The horror movie continues to play, small whimpers and screams coming from both of the boys on either of your sides.

You still don’t understand why they thought watching a horror movie on a rainy night was a good idea but they were determined to finish it by this point. And you, on the other hand, were getting bored. Horror movies weren’t that bad for you and you slept perfectly fine afterwards so you weren’t worried.

Unfortunately for Jihoon and Chan, that was not the case.

Jihoon had cocooned himself into a blanket with only his eyes peeking out and Chan had stolen one of the sofa pillows and had used it to hide behind when a scary scene was taking place. Biting your lip, you turn to each of them, watching as their eyes stay glued to the TV.

“Hey, if you two are so scared, why don’t we just turn the movie off. You’ll regret it if you can’t sleep later… And Minghao might kick my ass if he knows I let this happen to Chan.” You offer. Jihoon clears his throat, agreeing that maybe it was a bad idea to continue while Chan already started to reach for the remote tucked under the mass of snacks nearby.

As soon as he hits the power button, a bolt of lightning flashes outside causing the power to suddenly blow.

“Fuck! The demon’s here, I knew it, it’s because we watched the movie! We’re done, oh god, I haven’t even lived that long and Minghao hasn’t even taken me to a theme park yet and I--”, Chan cries, throwing the remote control haphazardly across the room as he tugs his fluffy ears down in panic. He immediately turns to you, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he continues to ramble incoherently against your skin.

On your other side, Jihoon has gone completely silent as one of his hands searched the dark for one of yours; his eyes completely closed in fear of seeing something in the dark that he didn’t want to see. You attempted to wrap an arm around each of them as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, their forms drawing even closer and molding to your body.

“I’m not gonna lie, I’m shocked that you two are so scared of the dark right now.”

The only real light coming in was from whatever little bit of moonlight was visible through the clouds as you stared at the blobs glued on your sides. “Let’s be fair here. We just watched a horror film where things lurked in the dark, can you cut us some slack!?” Jihoon scream-whispers as Chan nods against your shoulder, “Jihoon-hyung’s right, I’m not normally scared of the dark!”

You pat him on the head, running your fingers through his hair as he leans into your touch.

Jihoon unwraps from your hold a few moments later, his eyes adjusting to the dark against his will as he clears his throat.

“We--Maybe we just need a distraction, that’s all… I’m sure the power will come back on soon, or maybe one of the others will come see if we’re ok. We just… We need to find something to do or else our minds will wander.” He suggests. You nod in the dark, raising an eyebrow, “Like, a game or something?” Jihoon hums back an agreement. The three of you sit in silence trying to think of anything to play but nothing comes to mind.

“I can’t think of anything, Jihoon.”

Chan sighs, raising his head from your shoulder. “We could play that one game, y’know, ‘are you nervous?’ I heard Minghao-hyung talking about it! All we do is touch or do things to each other until someone chickens out! It could be anything!” You could hear a smile in his voice that almost made you smile until you heard Jihoon scoff.

“That sounds like fun until something grabs you and it’s not me or her, Chan.” Jihoon deadpanned.

You can only grimace knowing that comment went straight to Chan’s head. “Why on god’s green earth would you say that, hyung!?” An exasperated noise leaves Chan’s mouth as he lets go of you, arms flailing off of the sofa before he gasps and balls up again. “Oh my god, what if something grabbed me just now, would you have done anything to save me?” You had no idea who that question was directed to but you replied with a simple “yes”.

“Are we going to play or what? The more I sit here, the more I start seeing demons in the kitchen over there, to be honest.” Jihoon was getting restless, his fingers gripping your shirt. “We don’t have anything to do anyway, we need to get our minds off this power outage, and the potential demon. I think Chan especially needs it, he seems to be losing it more than I am.”

You can only nod in agreement; after all, what could go wrong. “Should I start then?”

It’s silent for a beat before Chan speaks up. “I’ll do it!”

Even in the dark, you can see Chan sitting up on his knees as you turn to face him slightly. He pushes your shoulder, causing you to crash into Jihoon; your back to Jihoon’s chest as his legs open wider to accommodate your figure. It’s a little uncomfortable on the sofa, but Jihoon doesn’t seem to mind. “Are you nervous?” You can almost hear the smirk in Chan’s voice and although you were confused with the shift in the atmosphere and maybe a tiny bit concerned at where this was leading, you didn’t voice it.

“Not at all, Channie. Should I go next?”

Jihoon and Chan both make noises of agreement as you considered your options. You really didn’t know what to do, so you simply placed your palm down onto Jihoon’s sweatpant clad thigh and squeezed. A garbled noise leaves his lips and you can hear the stutter in his breath. “Jihoonie, are you nervous?” He’s silent for a little too long before he replies with a slightly breathless ‘no' and asks if it was his turn.

You nod, feeling his arms come around your waist as he rests his head in the crook of your neck; lips lightly trailing up behind your left ear as he whispers a simple “nervous yet?” before kissing the shell of your ear.

You had to admit, this was getting a little too hot too fast and you weren’t sure if this was the nature of the game but you weren’t mad about it.

“Um, n-no…”

Chan takes the lead, lips easing into a wide smile. “I’ll go next!” His fingers rests on your bare thighs, slightly prying your legs open as he makes space for himself between them; careful to avoid grabbing onto Jihoon’s legs.

By nature, you clamp your legs shut, trapping Chan’s hands in between as you yelp. “Hold on, wait, wait, wait, what is going on here!?” Your face burns red in the dark, almost glad the power was out so that they couldn’t see even though you already know Jihoon can feel the way your body warms up.

Neither of them knew how to answer, so you sat in silence; only your steady breaths heard as you sat between Jihoon’s legs with Chan’s hands trapped between your still clamped legs.

Chan clears his throat as he attempts to pull back his hands from between your legs. “I--um, uh, it--it was Jihoon-hyung’s idea! He told me to tell Minghao-hyung I was sleeping over and to not check in! And then he called Mingyu and told them to not check in either!”

“What!? Me!? Don’t you dare pin this on me, brat! We planned this together!”

Your mouth hangs open in shock, eyes threatening to fall out of your skull as they continue to argue. “I didn’t wanna do it! I told hyung it wouldn’t work! I told him we should’ve done it differently!” Chan cries; tossing his head back dramatically.

“Okay, both of you shut up! Jihoon, what is going on!?”

The snake hybrid groans from behind you, arms still locked tight around your waist. “Listen… I--It wasn’t supposed to go like this, okay? We were gonna finish the movie and then ask you if--if you wanted to, y’know, play with both of us. And don’t try to deny it, I know you think Chan is cute. I just wanted to treat you to something nice.”

Chan wiggles his fingers, still trapped in between your thighs. “But then it got all spooky instead and the power went out...” The bunny hybrid mumbles.

You could feel your body heating up at the thought of being between Jihoon and Chan. And in truth, you’d thought about it maybe once, but it was a fleeting thought that’d left your mind just as quickly as it’d entered.

“I--I mean, uh, I mean, I’m okay with this b-but Jihoon, are you really okay with this? You don’t have to--”

“I’m fine with this, too.” Jihoon cut in, his arms squeezing your waist tighter.

A thankful sigh escapes Chan’s lips as he chuckles, “Thank god. I’m not gonna lie, I’m already a little hard....” You can see his face clearly now that your eyes completely adjusted to the dark.

“We literally haven’t even done anything yet.”

“Shut up, hyung!”

“Ngh… C--Chan…”

Your fingers tangle into his hair, careful of his ears as he dips his tongue into your entrance. Jihoon continues to nuzzle at your neck, appreciating your warmth as the younger hybrid works your body up for the both of them.

“She likes it when you use your fingers, y’know. And if you curl them just right, it makes her feel really, really good.” Jihoon guides. His lips ease into a lazy smirk when Chan listens eagerly and brings his fingers to your folds; using your wetness to coat them before he positions his index and middle fingers at your entrance. “Can she take two at once?” Chan asks, voice almost eerily innocent to which Jihoon chuckles under his breath - the action making you shiver at how easily the two of them seemed to get along so well in this situation.

“Of course, she can. She’s always so good about taking my cock. I bet I could slide right into her tight ‘lil pussy right now. Couldn’t I, baby?”

You nod shakily as your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of Chan’s fingers sinking into you slowly. He curls them almost immediately and you mewl and squirm as Jihoon’s grip on you tightens. “Oh, she’s so tight around my fingers already, hyung~” Chan murmurs. He thrusts his fingers into your hot cunt, tongue on your clit when he finds that you seem to like that best.

“Hmm~ Look at your favorite bunny hybrid trying to please you. Fingers knuckle deep while he teases your clit with his tongue. Are you gonna cum for him?” You let out a choked noise at Jihoon’s words and your fingers lock tighter into Chan’s hair when he taps your g-spot, wiggling his fingers inside of you to stretch you out.

“Oh, g-god, yes!”

Chan sucks your clit between his lips and Jihoon has to hold you down tighter as you try to grind against Chan’s face.

Jihoon’s fingers start to roam and squeeze you through your shirt; delicate fingers pinching your nipples as you mewl at the sensations they were making you feel. It was one thing to have Jihoon’s hands all over you but now that Chan was added to the mix, you found yourself getting addicted to the excitement that flooded your senses.

“A-ah, Chan…” The sound of you softly calling his name has him immediately pulling off of you, lips glistening with your wetness when he peers up at you through the dark.

“Hyung, am I allowed to fuck her?” Chan questions quietly. The snake hybrid bites the inside of his cheek.

His possessive nature screamed no, but the other part of him already felt his cock throbbing at the thought of you getting fucked by someone else and getting filled with so much cum from the both of them that it’d be spilling out of you.

Jihoon’s throat feels dry at the thought alone.

“Yes. Fuck her tight ‘lil cunt and fill her up with cum. We’ll breed her so fuckin’ good she’ll be begging us both for more.” Chan giggles innocently; a complete contrast to the way his eyes burn with unadulterated lust when he leans in close to your face.

“Ah~ Minghao-hyung always complains about me rutting against the pillows. Says my libido is too high, but I just can’t help it~ Finally, I get to fuck your tight cunt and I get to cum inside you and fill you up with my cum instead of just using my hand and making a mess on the sheets!” He grins.

Christ, Chan was really oblivious to the way his words affected you.

“Ngh, please, one of you j-just fuck me already~” You whine.

Jihoon’s fingers tug on your shirt, helping you lift it off of you as you’re finally completely bare to them both. His fingers immediately go back to teasing your chest as Chan sits up proper between your legs, pushing his sweats and underwear down. “Hyung, are you sure this is a one time only thing?”

You mewl as Jihoon pinches your nipples hard; nails digging into his clothed thighs in return. “We’ll talk about it later, Chan.” He replies easily.

Chan wraps a firm hand around his cock, moaning as he spreads the precum all down his shaft. “Mmh, I really need to fuck you now.” He mutters.

“D-do it…” Whimpering, you try to spread your legs a little more given the small space. “Mmh, m-maybe taking it to the bedroom, ah, might’ve been a better i-idea.”You mutter.

Chan pouts, trying to get comfortable as he rubs the head of his cock through your folds, tapping your clit as you cry out in pleasure. “No, what if something grabbed one of us on the way there?” He retorts.

Jihoon laughs under his breath, eyes focused on the way your chest rises and falls in anticipation.

Chan lets out a shaky moan as he sinks his cock into your tight warmth, brows furrowing when he can already tell that he won’t be able to hold himself back. “Ah, you’re so--so tight…” He whines. His cock was a little shorter than Jihoon’s but just as thick to stretch you out to your liking.

He gives you a second to adjust before he skillfully draws his hips back and slams his cock into you. “Fu---fuck, she feels so good, I--I don’t think I can h-hold back…” His hands are on your thighs keeping your spread; biting into his bottom lip. “Ngh, please--please tell me I can fuck y-you harder!”

Jihoon smiles, snaking a hand down to your clit as he starts to roll the nub between his fingers slowly. It makes your pussy clench down harder onto Chan who lets out a choked whine at the feeling of your walls clamping down onto him in a vice grip. “Well, baby? What do you want? Tell your cute ‘lil bunny.”

Chan’s cock curves into your g-spot perfectly and with Jihoon’s fingertips teasing your clit, your head already starts to feel fuzzy. “Mmh… ah, y-yeah, fuck me h-harder, Chan… I wanna feel y-you...”

He whispers quiet thank you’s into the dark; hips slamming into you as Jihoon keeps you locked in his hold. Soft whines and moans spill from Chan’s lips and for a moment, it makes you wonder if he always sounded like this when he was alone and rutting against his pillow.

And almost as if Jihoon can read your mind, his sultry, lust filled eyes watch Chan’s cock fucking into you as he whispers, “How’s she feel, Chan? Better than rubbing your cock against the sheets? Or how about your hand?” The younger hybrid whines, cock throbbing as he already feels himself close to an orgasm.

“She---She, hah, feels so w-warm and wet… S-Shit, I’m going to think a-about this whenever I, ah, need to g-get off…” He licks his dry lips, committing to memory how your pussy felt around him. “It’s n-not gonna be the s-same when I’m alone…”

“Enjoy it while you can, bunny~” Jihoon teases. He takes his fingers off of your clit, nipping at the shell of your ear. “As for you, don’t cum, baby.” You nod shakily, realizing that at least that much was still only reserved for Jihoon.

Instead, Jihoon continues to provokes Chan, soft giggles on his lips when he sees the bunny hybrid struggling to stave off his orgasm. “Ah, hurry and fill her up with your cum~ I bet it’s been so long since you’ve cum, huh? You probably have a lot ready just to breed her tight little cunt too.”

His own words prove to do damage to himself when he feels his cock throbbing in his sweats; he really needed Chan to hurry up. And Chan doesn’t fare any better himself; airy whines and groans filling the air as he feels his abdomen tightening the more Jihoon continues to speak.

“Fu--fuck, I’m--I’m cumming!” Chan cries, hips pistoning into you at a breakneck speed as he fucks his cum deeper and deeper into you. Your body jerks between them both, choked whines of your own mixing with his as you do your best to not cum either which proves hard when Jihoon starts to coax you too.

“Mm, bet it feels nice and warm, huh, baby? Hot cum filling up your ‘lil cunt, waiting for me to cum inside you too so you’re full of both of us.”

“Jihoon…” You whisper, hips moving against Chan’s as he rides out the remnants of his orgasm. You can already feel the cum sliding out of you from around Chan’s cock and your mind turns to putty at the thought of Jihoon still fucking you and making you cum.

“Alright, bunny, time for you to move.” Chan nods slowly in return, thrusting into you one more time as the two of you share a moan. “Okay, okay, move!” Jihoon grumbles.

He realized it’d take days if not weeks to get Chan’s smell off of you.

Not that it was a problem. He always had ideas in store to make it easier.

Chan slides his cock from inside of you, watching as the cum drips down onto the sofa in large globs. He licks his lips, already itching to get his hands back onto you as he starts to move back.

Jihoon slowly unwraps his arms from around you and moves to switch places with Chan who tugs his own sweatpants back up. “Can I take a shower after this?” He asks quietly.

The snake hybrid exhales harshly through his nose as he replaces Chan between your legs, pushing his sweats and underwear down in one swift motion. “We’ll all go shower after this, now hold her still.” Chan nods, ears flopping atop his head; satisfied for now.

He wraps his arms around your midsection much like Jihoon had done, chin nuzzled into the crook of your neck as he watches Jihoon running his cock through the mix of your wetness and Chan’s cum. “Mmm, hyung’s gonna make sure our cum stays inside your hot cunt~ ‘Cause you need to be bred, y’know? Ah, Jihoon-hyung’s so lucky~ He gets to breed your pretty pussy whenever he wants~”

Jihoon’s jaw clenches tight, a hand placed firm on your thigh as he uses Chan’s cum as lubrication when he eases his cock into you. “Fuck, you’re so wet!” He growls; already starting a quick pace as he chases his high.

He’d waited long enough.

“Ah, you’re so warm too, you feel so good, baby…” Jihoon pauses, licking his lips as his eyes meet yours in the darkness. “And all mine, right?” He thrusts into you particularly hard for emphasis; almost daring you to say anything different.

“G-god, yes, yes! I’m y-yours, ah!” Chan slithers a hand down your torso, fingertips on your sticky and swollen clit as he starts to pinch and roll the nub between his fingertips. You clench around Jihoon; overwhelmed with the urge to cum as they both stimulate your body.

“Why don’t you cum for Jihoon-hyung, hmm? Cum around his cock and milk him for all he’s got~” You mewl at Chan’s words, toes curling as you and Jihoon both feel each other close to the edge. Jihoon’s cock curves into you perfectly and hits all of the right spots inside of you that have you bucking your hips to match his thrusts.

It only takes a few more thrusts before you feel the tension in your body threatening to snap at any second.

“Jihoon, I---”

“I know, baby. S’okay. Cum with me.” His voice is breathy and raw as he, too, feels his cock throbbing inside your tight heat.

Chan and Jihoon work in tandem as your rushed cries of Jihoon’s name start to roll off of your tongue and his thrusts become erratic; groans on his own lips as the two of you cum at the same time. Jihoon doesn’t stop his quick pace either, instead, doubling it as he fucks his and Chan’s cum further into your pussy.

“Shit, that’s right, hyung. Breed her fuckin’ cunt.” Growling, Chan pinches your clit as you let out a high pitched whine.

“J--Jihoon, please, please, pl--please b-breed me! Get m-me full of your c-cum!” You cry; delirium mildly settling in as his hot cum paints your walls and spills out of you from around his cock.

“Ngh, that’s---that’s right, baby. Beg me to fill you up, hah, just like you like it.” Jihoon starts to slow down his thrusts just as Chan starts to ease his fingers off of your clit and you sob quietly at the bliss that continues to wash over your body.

Your chest rises and falls in deep breaths as the remnants of your orgasm start to ebb off and you immediately slump against Chan’s warm chest as the tiredness starts to overtake you. “Fuh--fuck, ‘m so full o-of cum…” You whine.

The two hybrids can only groan in unison.

Jihoon starts to slide his cock out of you; licking his lips when he sees how much cum spills from your spent pussy. “Ah, such a waste.” He comments.

“Wait, wait!” Chan catches your attention and Jihoon’s when he starts to move from behind you. Jihoon shoots the bunny hybrid a confused look when he ushers for Jihoon to move again. “Just trust me, hyung.”

They switch places one last time as you rest against Jihoon’s clothed chest, eyes focusing on Chan who kneels in between your legs.

“Hey, can I kiss her?”

You blush as Jihoon narrows his eyes at the other male. “Only one time. Make it good.”

Chan smirks as he immediately dives headfirst in between your thighs; lapping up the cum that spills out of you and onto the sofa. You latch your fingers into his hair by reflex, sharp cries on your lips from the oversensitivity as Chan collects the mixed cum on his tongue.

Jihoon has to admit, he’s a little impressed.

Once Chan deems it enough, he holds the cum in his mouth as he pulls away from your cunt and your hands fall from his hair.

You watch through hazy eyes as he stops when he’s face to face with you; smiling at you angelically. He leans in, lips pressed firm against your own as you moan into the kiss. And once your lips part, Chan’s quick to push the cum into your mouth; a little dripping down your chin at the messy way his tongue pushes it in.

He pulls away once all of the salty substance is out of his mouth; a trail of saliva and cum connecting your lips as Jihoon whistles in amazement.

“Wow, can’t say I saw that one coming.”

Your cheeks flush and Jihoon enjoys the warmth that radiates from you in between their bodies.

Chan smiles at you innocently again; reverting back to his sweet bunny-like nature.

“Can we find some candles and go shower now, please?”

#snakehybrid!woozi #woozi smut #dino smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #woozi scenarios #dino scenarios #dino imagines #woozi imagines #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #monstermash!svt #hybrid!svt #hybrid!seventeen

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carllisle · 3 years

Photo

The Second Mrs Cullano

As we all know, Esme Platt is not Carlisle Cullano’s first wife, nor is she his second - she is actually his third. But she is the love of his life, the reason for his breathing, and so when he marries for the second time, it’s clear that wives are nothing to soulmates.

Esme Platt enjoys the wedding of Carlisle Cullano and the Second Mrs Cullano.

Dedicated to my literal partner in this crime, @notquitetwilight, and to our collective projection onto cringe New Jersey mob show stereotypes. Special shoutout to @stregoni-benefici and @carlislesscarf.

Esme felt a soft kiss on her shoulder and smiled. Sun was pouring through the open windows of her bedroom and there was a soft breeze that lifted her hair. He was still here. He shouldn’t have been.

“Good morning,” he whispered against her skin. “You smell so good.”

Esme rolled onto her stomach and curled around her pillow with her smile broadening. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“You kicking me out?”

“No. But I’ve got things to do, too, you know?”

Carlisle lay next to her and stroked her caramel hair, his face close to hers on her pillow. She cracked open an eye and watched him watch her. “Can I stay with you?” he whispered.

She shook her head. “Not for long. For breakfast, though, if you make it.”

“I don’t wanna leave this bed.”

“You’re gonna have to at some point, baby. You’ve got responsibilities today.”

“Tell me to stay, Esme. Tell me not to do it.” He ran a strong hand over her neck and gently wrapped it around her throat, fingers tilting her jaw to the side.

She laughed quietly, sleep making her mind hazy. “No. I want you to have a wife and a family. You’ve always wanted that, but I haven’t. I still want to be me for a while yet.”

“You wouldn’t stop being you just for being my wife.”

Esme took the hand around her throat and brought it up to kiss. Carlisle closed her eyes at the touch of her lips. “We’ve talked about this, for years. Decades. I can be your person, but I can’t be your wife. I won’t be anyone’s wife again.”

“I’m not anyone. Please, Esme. Marry me.”

She stretched her arms up and laughed. “Not today!” But she rolled over and wrapped her legs around him and pulled him against her, loving him as best she could in the soft sunrise.

After, they followed their usual routine of showering together and dressing. Since their days of teenage love they enjoyed the quiet of domesticity. Outside the walls of their homes wars raged on their streets but in her old house, in his sprawling estates, it was just them, and today was no different. He zipped her skirt and she buttoned his shirt and they walked arm in arm down the street for coffee and bagels. They took a booth at the back of the cafe, although it didn’t matter if anyone saw them - they had never been a secret. Besides, they both kept guns strapped to them and knives hidden in their jackets and coats.

Esme leaned back in her chair, blowing steam off the top of her coffee. “You’re sure about this one?”

Carlisle regarded her over his phone and considered the question. “Yeah. It’s gotta be someone, why not her?”

“It doesn’t have to be someone,” she reminded him gently. “You could go it alone. Well, as alone as you will ever be. You’ve always got me.”

“Yeah. But I want someone. I want a wife. And the wife I want doesn’t want me, so I gotta choose the next best thing. Besides, you know her family’s reputation, that’s nothing to turn my nose up at.”

“Ever the pragmatist.”

He gave her one of the smiles he saved just for her. “Aw, you hurt me, Es. I do like her. She’s got spirit, and she’s smart as hell. She likes the high life and she wants kids sooner rather than later, and… and she makes me laugh. She makes me feel wanted.”

“I think most of the east coast wants you,” Esme said quietly, avoiding his gaze. It wasn’t that she was jealous - how could she be, when he made her feel so adored all the time? - but it irritated her that this woman was able to give him what he wanted, and she couldn’t. One marriage to the wrong man had ruined the institution for her and now not even Carlisle could heal that wound. Yes, her first husband had died violently at her hand for his transgression, but that wasn’t the point. The transgression had occured in the first place. That was frightening.

“Don’t be angry, darling. You know it’s still you.” Carlisle reached over the table and stroked her hand and Esme felt safe again. She held his gaze and nodded slightly. “It’ll always be you. You’re mine, before anyone and everyone else.”

She smiled, her mood improved. He had always been happy to declare his feelings with her, and even now, on the morning of his wedding to another woman, in a nondescript coffee shop, he made her feel like the most adored woman. On the middle finger of her right hand she still wore the first expensive ring he had ever bought her, and it cost as much as her parents’ house. It was a gaudy thing, a thick diamond set on a band of smaller cut gems that they had chosen together the day after she killed Charles. It was Carlisle’s promise to her - that no matter who else came along, no matter what the world threw at them, they would love each other before anyone and anything else. He wore a similar ring she bought him on his little finger of his right hand. They never took their rings off. His first wife had hated it - understandably - but she had got her share in the divorce when Carlisle had refused to forsake Esme. She looked down at the ring and it sparkled. She’d had it cleaned for the wedding today especially.

“Are you sure me coming today is a good idea?” she asked after a long moment.

He squeezed the hand he held. “Yeah. I need you there.”

“She’ll be mad.”

“She’s always got something to be mad about. Besides, she knows the deal and you’re non-negotiable.”

“I don’t want to upset anyone on their wedding day, Carlisle.”

He shifted his chair around the table and leaned closer to her. “What about me? You wanna upset me on my wedding day?”

She bit her lip and grinned. “I never want to upset you.”

“Then be a good girl. Come for me.” He rested his hand on her thigh under the table and Esme glanced around the cafe. No one paid them any mind. “Look at me.”

She met her lover’s piercing gaze and bit her lip.

“You gonna come for me?”

She nodded and gasped quietly when he rewarded her with a kiss. Esme could taste the coffee on Carlisle’s lips. He wanted her, he needed her, and she would never let him down.

Esme’s cousin begrudgingly helped her get ready for the wedding. She said it was indecent for the mistress to turn up, let alone in a red silk dress barely held together by strands of diamonds across the back, but Esme smugly told her the groom had bought it for her especially, and who was she to refuse him? As a precaution she strapped her Colt Python to her thigh - it was an old machine, temperamental, but it made her feel powerful and she had a more reliable weapon in her clutch, as well as blades hidden in her shoes - and touched up her hair. Curls pinned to her head, diamonds dripping from her ears, and Carlisle’s dress draped across her, Esme felt more sensual than ever. When she sat in the pew at the wedding mass and thought of how the groom had sighed between her thighs mere hours before, she felt holy. She sat with his cousins a few rows back and even when the blushing bride strutted down the aisle, he couldn’t keep his eyes from Esme for long.

They were lucky to be able to have a Roman Catholic service as everyone knew that Carlisle’s first marriage had been valid, but enough money had been slipped to the dioceses to push through an annulment, and so in the eyes of the Church this was his first marriage. There was some humour in that. The familiar words were spoken, hymns and prayers recited, and after what felt like a lifetime, and no time at all, Carlisle was walking down the aisle with the new Mrs Cullano on his arm. Sadness twinged at Esme’s stomach. That could have been me. It should have been. He’s mine.

The reception was tolerable, enjoyable in its tackiness and extravagance. Everything was white and puffy and the hundreds of guests stuffed into the grand ballroom of the coastal hotel were drunk within the first course. It was how a Jersey wedding should have been, though, and Esme appreciated it for what it was. By the time the first dance came, she was lightly buzzed and enjoying catching up with the biggest names in east coast crime, many of whom were old family friends. Business people and politicians, state senators and property moguls joined them too, tying together the legitimate and illegitimate powers that kept the region affluent and fun, and most didn’t know where the legality ended and illegality started. By the time Esme snorted a line of cocaine from the chest of a mayor’s daughter she didn’t much care and the pair fell about laughing in the bathroom. As if called by the sound of Esme’s happiness, the moment was cut short by the sound of the bride herself outside.

“Lisa, can you fucking help me? This dress is a fucking nightmare, you gotta hold it up, okay?”

“You better go,” Esme advised the girl, no older than twenty-two by the looks of it, “before you meet Bridezilla up close and personal.”

The girl giggled and darted from the bathroom just as the bride scrambled her way through the door. The dress she had chosen was appropriately enormous, tight on top and blooming into an extravagant ball gown from the waist down, and Esme wasn’t surprised that she needed three bridesmaids to help her through the door.

“God, I’m dying to sit down properly-” she moaned over her shoulder before her eyes fell on Esme. Esme patted around her nose, watching her own pretty reflection in the mirror. “Oh. I didn’t know you were here.”

“I responded to your invitation,” Esme replied mildly. “Lovely dress.” She turned her attention to her lipstick and dotted a fresh coat on, pointedly ignoring the bride.

The second Mrs Cullano turned back to her bridesmaids and then looked at Esme, dithering between the two. There was a long pause before she turned to her entourage. “Stay outside. Make sure no one comes in, alright?” The bridesmaids made noises of agreement and the door swung shut, and then it was just Esme and Carlisle’s new wife.

After Mrs Cullano said nothing, Esme broke the silence. “You’ve organised a wonderful day. Are you enjoying yourself?”

Mrs Cullano’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not happy you’re here.”

“Oh?”

“I know why you’re here.”

“To see one of my dearest friends marry the woman he loves, of course.”

“Don’t play cute.”

Esme smiled sweetly. “You think I’m cute?”

“Cut the shit.”

She sighed and looked at the bride. “What’s on your mind, Mrs Cullano?”

“It’s real tacky you’re here, you know?”

“He wants me here. I came because he asked me to be here. I wouldn’t be here without an invitation.”

“I didn’t invite you.”

Esme pulled her invitation from her clutch and handed it to her. “Yes, you did.”

The bride threw it aside, angry. “Give up! I won! He doesn’t want you!”

Esme smiled at her sadly. There was nothing to say that could bring the bride any comfort. The truth was, Carlisle did want her. He wanted her more than anyone and anything, but that didn’t matter to this woman. This woman knew she had just pledged her life to a man who couldn’t love her completely. She was angry for it. “He’s my friend,” was all she could say.

“Get new friends.”

“I won’t stand in the way of your happiness, Mrs Cullano, or his. Above anything else, I love him and I want him to have the most wonderful life. I can’t give him the life he wants, but you can. Why would I jeopardize that?”

It was the wrong thing to say in hindsight. Esme knew that the moment the bride launched at her with murder in her eyes. Her clawing fingers reached out and she managed to get in one good scratch before Esme had her arms locked behind her and ready to pop from their joints. “Easy,” she whispered against Mrs Cullano’s ear. The acrylics on her fingers made her face sting, but the skin hadn’t been broken. “Calm down. Like you said, you won, you’re his wife. Don’t fight me for anything more, because you will lose, do you understand me?”

“Are you threatening me?” Mrs Cullano gasped.

Esme tightened her grip and the bride hissed. “Yes. Raise a hand to me again and Carlisle’s love for you will not save you. You want to see who he will really choose if it comes down to it? Because I do not have my doubts. Do you?”

Just as the bride’s whines rose in volume along with her pain, Esme let her go. She gripped under her elbow and held her upright to stop her from falling. “You got in a good scratch, I’ll give you that. But work on your attack and maybe you’ll take out an eye next time, alright? You’ll need protection if you’re going to love him.”

“Are you threatening me?” Mrs Cullano asked again.

There was no kindness left in Esme’s eyes. “Yes.”

The two women stared at each other for a long moment. The new bride broke first. Esme sniffed and checked her reflection before stalking out of the bathroom, not a hair out of place. She pulled on the diamond strap of her dress and was close to the ballroom door when Carlisle stepped out. His smile was so bright when he saw her and he reached for her hands. When he noticed the scratches across her face his forehead creased.

“What happened?” he asked, tender fingers touching the marks. Across the corridor there was a set of glass doors open to the terrace, and it was dark out there. There were a few wedding guests milling around but quick steps had the pair hidden in the gloom. Overhead, stars popped across the inky sky. With her arm in Carlisle’s, they found their way down garden paths and to the beach. No one saw them.

“Your wife doesn’t like me,” Esme told him, smiling. His face was barely visible in the darkness but his bright hair caught the light of the stars. Their walk eventually slowed as their shoes crunched on the sand.

“She did this?”

Esme nodded. “It’s alright, she deserved to get in a good swipe. It won’t happen again, though.”

“No, it won’t,” Carlisle replied angrily. “Who does she think she is?”

“The new Mrs Cullano, protecting the honour of her marriage,” Esme pointed out with a light laugh. “I’d do the same. I don’t mind, really. I understand her anger.”

“Esme,” he said, his voice softening. “How can I love someone who hurt you?”

“You’re the only one who can hurt me, Carlisle.” She wound an arm around the back of his shoulders and closed her eyes when he rested his forehead against hers.

“I’ll never hurt you.”

“I know.” And he never had. Not with a hand, not with a word. No one had ever loved anyone like Carlisle loved Esme, and she knew it. “You’re so good to me. What did I do to deserve you?”

Carlisle rested one hand at the small of her back and ran the fingers of his other hand up her spine. “Thank you for wearing this dress. You look beautiful.”

She smiled in the night. “Thank you for choosing it for me.”

“Gotta let the whole world see how wonderful my girl is.”

“Call me that again.”

“My girl?”

She hummed and began gently swaying, moving him to dance with her to the sound of the ocean. “You’re my person, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. And you’re my person. Always have been. Always will be.”

Carlisle’s soft kiss touched Esme’s cheek and she sighed in bliss. “I love you, Carlisle.”

“I love you, too, Esme. More than anything. Always.”

#the cullanos #ellie writes #notquitetwilight #remember how this started as shitposting #and now theres lore and emotions #anyway guys new blog coming soon who's pumped LMFAOOOO #carlesme #the literal MOST ooc carlesme you'll ever read #BUT ITS FUN AND KINDA SEXY SO #esme fucks carlisle on the morning of his wedding to someone else

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makbarnes · 3 years

Text

Chapter 4

It had been two weeks since seeing Loki at the mall and your mind was going nuts. Who was he there with? Is he with another girl? And in the clothes I bought him!?

“Boo!” Bucky kissed the crook of your neck, snaking his arms around your waist as you jumped a little at the sound of his voice.

“Hi.” You leaned your head back and puckered your lips at him. Bucky pressed a soft kiss to her lips. He had been coming over more and more since he slept over that night. You had persuaded him to stay over a couple nights and actually got him to sleep in your bed with you. He even tucked Tatum in a few times and it was adorable. Bucky had planted himself behind you with his arms around you. Stopping what you were working on, you turned around to face him. He picked you up on the counter and gripped your face. Pushing his lips into your own passionately, you gripped his hips and pulled him close to you. His metal hand was under your thigh, while your hand was messing with the back of his hair. Your lips were burning from the pressure Bucky was putting on your lips, not to mention the constant nipping he kept doing to your bottom lip. Your arm was around his neck and you licked his lips before letting his tongue go into your mouth. Letting him take control over the makeout you moaned quietly into his mouth, feeling his hands move up your outer thigh. Pushing his wrist back down your thigh he moved his hand up behind your neck, pulling you in deeper. Your legs wrapped around his and you moved closer to the edge of the counter. Hearing Tatum cry lightly in her room you pulled away from Bucky and took a breath.

“Tatum’s awake.” Bucky pulled you off of the counter, and held up in his arms. Dipping you down in his arms he planted one last kiss on you before setting you down on the ground. Tapping your lower back you went off in the direction of Tatum’s room. Picking her up from her bed she was clutching her new bear and wiped her eyes. Petting her hair down you carried her into the main room where Bucky was leaning against a wall.

“There’s my little sunshine.” Bucky chimed and held his hands out for Tatum. You placed her gently in his arms and she positioned herself. You continued with cutting up some fruit for Tatum’s breakfast. Bucky bobbed her on his hip and you adjusted the fruit on her chair, pouring some apple juice into her green sippy cup you set that down next to it. Tatum wiped her eyes again, and yawned before opening her eyes. You gripped your hands toward her and got her from Bucky’s arms, Sitting her down in the chair you grabbed her bear from her and she cried a little.

“Okay, Shh. Here.” You gave Tatum her bear back and she hugged it tightly. Sitting it down next to her.

“Eat Baby.” You tapped the edge of the chair and stood in front of her. Tatum yawned again while she picked up a small apple slice and bit into it. A few moments later you heard a ding from the coffee machine and got down two mugs from the cabinet. Pouring the coffee into the mugs you handed one over to Bucky and he took a few sips from it. You smiled at Tatum who was waking up more now. You sat your mug down on the counter and rushed off into your room. You heard your phone ringing and quickly picked it up.

“Hello?” Listening to the other person on the line your mind went into a panic.

“Wait What? No he can’t confess, Who offered him a deal? The evidence is all wrong! It wouldn’t hold up in court.” You hung up the phone and lightly hit the wall, Bucky looked up from his cup. His blue eyes gleaming from the red color reflecting them.

“The client I’m representing got offered a deal by the prosecutors and I already told them that the evidence won’t hold up against him in court and I have nobody to babysit Tatum.” Bucky sat down his mug and approached you.

“Hey, you go get ready and I can watch Tatum either here or at my place.” Bucky kissed your forehead and you sighed. Going off to your room you pulled out one of your daily suits. Getting ready you pulled your hair back and pinned it with a brown clip. Packing up your things you grabbed your car keys from the counter and sat everything down on the counter. Kneeling down at Tatum you brushed some hair away from your face.

“Okay sweetheart you are gonna stay here with Bucky just for a little bit while Mommy goes to work.” Kissing her forehead you smiled at her.

“Tatum? Is that okay?”

“Okay.” Tatum stated before chewing on her apple slice. You nodded your head and gathered your things in your arms, checked around making sure everything was with you. Bucky led you to the front door and kissed the back of your head goodbye. Shutting the door behind you, you dashed down the hall and into the elevator going off to help an innocent man. Bucky turned back to Tatum and smiled.

“Alrighty Doll, Just you and me.” Bucky fluffed her hair and she held up her bear to him.

“Meet Bucksie.” Bucky took the bear and smiled, handing it back to her.

“She is very pretty. Just like you.” Bucky tapped her nose, making her giggle a little. Bucky finished off his coffee while he let Tatum finish her mixture of fruit you had given her this morning. Tatum gripped her hands towards Bucky and he picked her up out of the chair setting her down on the floor next to him. Grabbing the plate and the cup he put them in the sink before heading over to the couch. Sitting down He picked up Tatum and set her on his lap.

“So what does your mommy usually do with you during these days?”

“Little Mermaid!” Bucky smiled and he glanced over at the collection of movies you had on a little case by the TV. Seeing the DVD Bucky moved Tatum and put in the disc, Sitting back down where he was, Tatum climbed back onto his lap while he pressed play. As the opening credits played Tatum messed with a button on Bucksie’s little jacket and Bucky set the remote back down on the table.

“So why did you name her Bucksie?”

“Because we want you to be my new Daddy...cause I’ve never had a real Daddy before.” Tatum took hold of Bucky’s hand and cuddled into his chest.

“You will have to ask your mommy about that.” Bucky felt his heart ache. He would be happy to be Tatum’s dad but sadly it wasn’t his choice.

“You are her prince, and she is your princess. What could go wrong?”

“I think you are my princess and she is my queen. That way you can find true love too.”

“But I already love you and Mommy” Bucky had nothing to say to Tatum’s response to him. He ignored the movie and all he could think about was living with you and spending the rest of his life with you and Tatum.

Meanwhile,You had gotten to a conclusion with the prosecutors and had a small meeting with your client. After leaving the courthouse you headed back to your car before a scent caught your attention. Noticing it was coming from a bakery nearby you crept into the place and looked at everyone around. Noticing some familiar blonde hair that was reading a paper you went over to her. Your best friend Felicity was sitting there reading a newspaper while sipping on some tea.

She was the one that texted you yesterday regarding the deal at Build a bear.

“Hey there, Stranger.” Felicity sat down her paper and adjusted her glasses while smiling at you.

“Hey. Where’s Tatum?”

“Oh she is staying with Bucky.”

“You know James Buchanan Barnes?”

“He is kind of my boyfriend.” Your friend looked shocked at the news.

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“Well I was going to wait around at Build-A-Bear to break the news to you but I got out of there as quickly as possible...I saw Loki there yesterday.”

“You..did? Uhm, was he with anyone?” Your friend instantly turned nervous and you looked at her suspiciously.

“Did you know who he is with?”

“{Y/N}, I think we should go outside.” Felicity stood up and you followed her outside. Her hands were shaking a little, and you grabbed her wrists.

“Sweetie, just tell me.” Felicity took in a deep breath and stood tall.

“Loki was there to see me yesterday...we have been dating for seven months and it’s getting pretty serious.” You felt your fists clenched, and you gritted your teeth at her.

“SEVEN MONTHS!? He has been on earth that long you didn’t even mention it to me?”

“He was working through things and stayed at my place mostly.” You relaxed still feeling rage build inside of you.

“Did you tell him anything about Tatum?”

“Yes, He kept asking so I told him all I knew. But yesterday when I got home from work he was in a ball and crying. After seeing you and Tatum yesterday it was too much.You have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Yeah well he should be crying about it. Where the fuck does he get off in leaving me then going after my best friend?!” Felicity moved some of her hair away from her face and touched your arm which made you jerk away from her.

“Loki has changed, He is depressed about how he left things with you and he wants Tatum to know who he is.”

“He has no damn right for that! Leaving me for years then wanting to see his daughter that he left without a father, not to mention the heartbreak I went through. No! He is not getting near her.” Before Felicity could reply, you grabbed your keys from your purse and headed for your car and felt her grab your arm.

“Wait, please don’t be mad. I can explain, just not right at this moment.”

“No, I have to get home and see Tatum.” Flaming mad you got into your car and sped away from Felicity. Heading back home you felt your heart racing as you neared the apartments. Bucky heard you outside and paused the TV before getting up. Passing Tatum on her playmat he opened the door to see you pissed off as ever. Stepping out a bit, he took your hand and felt it shaking.

“My best friend is dating Loki…” “Who?”

“Felicity, I ran into her and she told me about Loki and why I saw him at the mall the other day.” You pushed past Bucky and went into the apartment seeing Tatum stand up.

“{Y/N}, Just calm down.”

“I can’t calm down Bucky, My best friend since eighth grade is dating the guy who broke my heart. She has been keeping it from me for seven months!” Your voice cracked a little not being used to yelling this much. Tatum covered her ears and sat down, being a little scared.

“She has a good reason.”

“He probably has her knocked up by now. I wouldn’t be surprised if she is already pregnant and hiding it from me.” Bucky looked over at Tatum who was watching this all unfold and winked at her in an attempt to let her know everything was okay.

“Baby, stop shouting.”

“How can you be this calm?! LOKI IS HERE! ON EARTH! He could come hurt me or Tatum for that matter.” Stopping you looked over at Tatum and she had a few tears down her face, leading to a blue spot on her cheek. Your face went calm and quiet while you walked over to her.

“Please don’t tell at Bucky, Mommy!”

“Baby, I’m not mad at him. Just things that you can’t understand right now.” You brushed over the blue spot on her face and glanced over at Bucky.

“What did she get into? She didn’t have that when you got here.” You stood up and pushed back your hair.

“No, no, no… I was hoping she didn’t get that trait…”

“What trait?” SIghing you stepped away from Tatum.

“Okay Loki was part, just part frost giant and he always turned blue when he got really angry or upset and I was hoping she didn’t get that but she did apparently.” Kneeling back down to Tatum you kissed her head.

“Tatum, calm down. Please.” Bucky came over to her and kneeled down to her.

“Doll, Mommy and Daddy aren’t fighting. I promise.”

“Okay…” You grabbed Tatum from the floor and walked her to her room. Settling her down for a nap you walked back into the main room where Bucky was waiting. Letting your hair down you ran your fingers through it, fluffing it out.

“I have a question for you. When did we get married?”

“It just slipped out. I’m sorry.”

“No it’s fine but just take it a little slow. It’s only been four weeks.” Bucky pulled you close to him and you rested your head on his chest.

“Tatum called me your prince today.”

“Tatum doesn’t have a dad and she latched onto you. Which I am proud of, you are a perfect example.”

“Well I will always be here. For you and her.” BUcky rested his lips on your head before swaying you slowly.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, my dear.”

NEXT CHAPTER

SERIES MASTERLIST

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itspufflehuff · 3 years

Text

According to Plan - Bucky Barnes Imagine

Summary: You like Bucky and Bucky likes you. So whats the problem? The answer should be nothing but when Bucky tried to ask you out for Valentine’s Day things dont always go according to plan.

MATERLIST // TAGLIST

Thank you so much @not-another-fangirl for putting a request in! I always have fun writing out the ideas you all give me so please if you ever have anymore send them my way!

Happy Valentines Day everyone! I hope you all have an amazing and safe day with your friends, family, and/or partners! This is one of three imagines I will be posting today.

Word Count: 3,143

~~~~

There was no doubt you and Bucky liked each other. Everyone could see the way he looked at you and you looked at him.

Well everyone except you two.

The moment Bucky saw you he thought you were the most beautiful person he'd ever seen. Then when he saw you fight for the first time it was like Cupid struck him. You were strong, beautiful, smart, and independent. The perfect girl for him.

You read all about the Howling Commandos and Bucky Barnes when you were in school. You saw his pictures and wondered why a man like that couldn't live in your time. Then to your surprise, a man like that was living in your time and it wasn't just any man, but Bucky Barnes himself. When you first met him you played it cool but inside you were screaming with excitement because the man you crushed on from the history books was standing right in front of you.

However despite the lingering looks, the partnering up on missions, and the touched shoulders every time you sat next to each other neither of you could see just how much you liked each other.

This would be your first Valentine's Day as an Avenger. You and all the other single Avengers were planning on spending it together as a group. What Bucky really wanted was to spend it with you alone, but he was too unsure of himself to pluck up the courage to ask you. That was until Steve talked some sense into him, "What is wrong with you?"

Bucky looked at his best friend confused, "Excuse me?"

"There is a beautiful girl a few rooms down who is clearly into you like you're into her, yet you still don't ask her out?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Bucky stuttered.

"Oh come on!" Steve threw his arms in the air, "Everyone can see the way you look at each other. You're clearly smitten. You should as her out for Valentine's Day."

"You really think so?" Bucky asked unsurely.

"Yes. You need to ask her out before someone else does."

So he set his plan into motion. Valentine's Day is less than 24 hours away so he'll make the most of the time he's got to ask you to be his Valentine and set up a date.

No pressure.

First up on his checklist: ask you out. As the day went on it turned out to be easier said than done. His first attempt was to send you some chocolates with a note attached. He walked to the nearest store selling boxes of chocolates and picked the biggest of the bunch. When he got back to his room he found some nice parchment paper in one of his drawers, ripped a piece off, and wrote, "Will you be my Valentine? -B" Using one of Tony's robotic helping hands he sent the chocolates to your room. He told the machine to come back to him once it was delivered so he could walk in and ask for your answer.

However, things did not go according to plan. Somehow there was some miscommunication and the chocolates got sent to Natasha's room. Upon reading the letter she assumed the 'B' stood for Bruce. Natasha happily visited him in his lab agreeing to go out with him. Bruce was very confused but decided not to ask questions, whatever happened got him a date so he didn't care!

"I hate technology," Bucky whispered to himself when he saw Natasha eating some of the chocolates on the common room couch.

His second attempt was to buy you flowers and ask you face to face, seeing as how that was the only trustworthy way to get it done. He put on his nicest shirt, making sure to save his fancy outfit for the big day, and went to the florist that happened to be a few streets away. He wasn't sure why but he was not expecting it to be so busy when he got there. Workers were running around to get orders, loading flowers into the back of trucks, and people were trying to cut in the line.

Bucky was ready to walk right out of there but then he thought about you. He sucked in a breath preparing for the chaos inside. The further he walked into the shop he saw the abundance of roses seemingly covering the whole shop. He didn't want to give you the same bouquet every other girl would be getting for Valentine's Day. You weren't like every other girl to him, you were special so he wanted to give you special flowers. The bouquet he picked out for you was yellow poppies with pink coral bells mixed in. He felt so proud of himself and was ready to ask you out.

Confidently Bucky walked back to the tower and straight to your door. He knocked three times and waited as he held the bouquet in his hands and swayed back and forth on his feet.

When you opened the door you weren't expecting to see Bucky. The only time he went to your room was when he walked you back after training. "Bucky, hi." You smiled at him. Although you weren't expecting him you were glad to see him.

"Y/N, hi. Um, I got brought you some flowers." He said holding them out to you shyly. The moment he saw you all of his confidence flew out the window.

You were so distracted with being happy to see Bucky and excited that he brought you flowers you didn't pay attention to what kind of flowers he brought you. The only thing you noticed was they were yellow and pink. You took them flowers from him smiling as you felt your cheeks heat up, "Thank you Bucky you're so sweet."

"I was also hoping to ask you something."

"Yeah, sure. What is it?" You leaned against the frame of your door as you held the flowers close to you.

He was starting to get nervous and stumbled over his words, "Well you know tomorrow is Valentine's Day, so I was thinking, well hoping actually that maybe-" He didn't get to finish his sentence. When he looked up at you he noticed red blotches on your hands and neck that were definitely not there before. "Are you ok Y/N?" He looked to you concerned.

You were confused about what just happened, "Of course why?" You furrowed your eyebrows and tilted your head.

He took your hand and laid your palm flat against his, "Look."

Still confused you looked down at your hands finally seeing the rashes. You gasped as your eyes quickly turned to the flowers. "Poppies."

"Please don't tell me you're allergic?" He pleaded.

"Not deathly, I just break out into hives."

He took the flowers from you not wanting to cause any more damage, "I'm so sorry Y/N I didn't know."

"It's ok Bucky, really. But if you don't mind I'm going to shower and put some cream on to get rid of this." You rushed back into your room closing the door.

Disappointed, Bucky walked back to his room setting the flowers down on his desk. He threw himself into bed with a sigh trying to come up with attempt number three.

What would the old Bucky do? He thought himself.

He would just walk up to the girl, flash her a charming smile, and ask her. The old Bucky had no problem with the ladies and he radiated confidence. That's all he needed to do. Be confident. Ask her out. He spent about half an hour building his confidence and hyping himself up. When he was ready he held his head high and walked to his door.

As soon as he opened it he saw you standing there. Your hair was damp and the rashes were fading. You had your hand up ready to knock on the door instead, you were face to face with his chest. You lowered your hand, took a step back, and looked up at him, "Hi, again. I thought I'd stop by so we could finish that conversation we were having before." You smiled sweetly at him.

He chuckled, "Once again I am so sorry. But um," He felt himself growing nervous again so he took a breath in. Confidence. "Tomorrow is valentines day and I would love to take you out as my Valentine."

"Yes. You can pick me up at 7:00." You smiled then turned to walk away. As soon as you got back to your room you jumped in excitement as you silently squealed.

~~~~

That night Bucky called around trying to make last-minute reservations until he finally found a restaurant with open tables at 7:00.

After such a stressful day Bucky needed to let off steam so he headed down to the gym. He didn't even realize how fast time went until two and a half hours later the sun was gone and he was sweating profusely.

He got back to his room and went straight for the bathroom to wash off the days' troubles. As he was getting dressed he looked over to his desk seeing the flowers he got you were gone. He just shrugged it off assuming one of Tony's robots threw it away. He spent the rest of his night planning for the next day and set out his outfit.

He tossed and turned all night too excited to finally be able to take you out.

~~~~

Seven o clock came sooner than expected the next day. Bucky was dressed in his finest clothes, a white button-down long sleeve, a black vest, and black dress pants. Very 1940s fashion.

You wanted to surprise Bucky by wearing something similar to what would be worn in the '40s. You put on an army green dress that was belted around the waist and had a collar at the top. You paired that with tights, or pantyhose as some may call it, and t-strap heels. You slept with curlers in your hair to get the authentic 1940's curl women had back then. You lightly brushed them out and pinned your hair to the sides.

When Bucky saw you he felt like his breath was taken away. In a way seeing you dressed like that made him feel like he was back in the old days. He was James 'Bucky' Barnes the man who loved to goof off with his best friend and live his life to the fullest, no Bucky who had a dark past and a metal arm to show for it.

He held his arm up for you to take, "Shall we?"

You smiled sweetly at him quickly putting a coat on before lacing your arm with his, "We shall."

Steve let Bucky borrow his motorcycle for the night seeing as how Bucky needed it more than him. Bucky was ready to have a romantic evening with you, that was until you got to the restaurant.

"I'm sorry sir but there is no reservation for a James Barnes." The hostess said.

"Are you sure? I called yesterday, Sydney helped me over the phone."

"Sydney? I'm sorry we don't have a Sydney here. If you don't mind me asking what number did you call? I may be able to help you find the right restaurant."

He pulled his phone out, reading the number back to her. She held back a smile as she spoke, "I am sorry sir, that is a California area code."

Bucky felt his neck heat up and his heart drop. Why can't anything go right? He thought for sure the night was ruined and he would have to find somewhere else to take you or just take you back home.

"Damn, I really hate technology," Bucky said to himself. You stood behind him trying to hold in a laugh at how adorable he looked. You knew he was already embarrassed, you didn't want to make it worse by laughing at him. Instead, you put a hand on Bucky's shoulder feeling the cool metal through his shirt. You moved your hand up to his skin so he could feel you behind him. He turned his head as you stepped forward to speak to the hostess. You leaned close to her so Bucky wouldn't hear you, "I'm not sure if you know but my boyfriend here is a man out of his time." You both giggled, "And clearly has not gotten used to the internet. Is there any way we can take out food instead of dining in?"

You pulled away with your eyebrows raised in question. She thought for a second before she smiled, "I'll see what I can do for you." With a quick wink, she walked into the restaurant.

Bucky wouldn't tell you this but your attempt at whispering failed as he could still hear what you said. He felt his heart flutter when you said 'boyfriend'. When the hostess left he acted like he didn't know what was happening, "Where did she go?"

"Oh, she just had to grab something from inside." You acted casual.

She came back out about ten minutes later with two bags full of takeout containers, "For the lovely couple."

"Thank you so much!" You smiled at her as Bucky took the food. You were so glad you stashed some cash into the belt of your dress. Taking it out you tried to hand it to her but she waved her hands at you shaking her head. "Don't worry about it. Anything for our favorite heroes."

Thanking her again you and Bucky made your way back to the motorcycle. "Where are we going to eat this?" Bucky laughed.

"In my room duh." You said as if it were obvious.

"How will we take it? Were on a motorcycle."

In response, you opened up the seat of the bike pulling out the folded backpack. "How?" Was all Bucky managed to say.

"Steve always keeps a backpack in here. We just put the food in and I'll wear it."

When you got back to the Avengers tower you and Bucky walked in laughing. You still had the backpack full of food on as you both made your way to the kitchen to grab some plates and utensils.

"What're you two doing back so early?" Steve called out.

"Change in plans we're having a picnic in my room!" You called back.

Bucky held onto the plates with one hand and put the other on your lower back as he walked you to your room.

You walked in feeling giddy about having a picnic. You grabbed an extra blanket from your closet and set it out on the floor. As you did that Bucky looked around your room. His eyes landed on a clear block that stood on your bookshelf. What caught his attention about it was that inside the block looked to be the flowers he gave you yesterday. "Y/N? What's that?" He pointed to it.

Following his fingers, you stopped throwing pillows on the floor and blushed, "Oh. It's the flowers from yesterday. I figured you went through the trouble to get them and they're so beautiful I didn't want them to go to waste. I had Steve get them from your room and I poured resin all over them. This way I can have them and not break out in hives."

His heart warmed. He was glad you liked the flowers so much to keep them preserved in resin.

You sat on the floor first then Bucky followed a bit hesitant.

"I’m sorry, nothing has quite gone according to plan for me. I doubt you've ever had to save your past dates like you did tonight." Bucky joked.

"No," you laughed shaking your head, "but I never cared much for those dates like I do this one."

You started opening up the food containers, setting them up around the both of you to serve yourselves.

"Whoa, it looks like they gave us the house special," Bucky said impressed.

"Anything for their favorite heroes." You quoted the hostess with a playful smile.

"I'm no hero." Bucky shook his head looking down.

"You are to me." He looked up at you with surprise. Ever since he escaped Hydra he wasn't able to see himself as the nice charming man he was before. He liked hearing you call him a hero, even if he didn't believe it.

"So, why did you join S.H.I.E.L.D? Well up until they fell and you became an Avenger." Bucky asked curiously as he started eating.

You let out a small laugh, "Um, well it was actually because of you and Steve."

He tilted his head, "Huh?"

"My parents loved Captain America and his Howling Commandos. I grew up hearing about your heroism, and we learned about it in school too. You guys weren't just about fighting for your country. You were about fighting for people everywhere and doing what's right. Then I read about Agent Peggy Carter. She was the only woman there throughout it all. I wanted to be like all of you. I worked my way up into S.H.I.E.L.D and worked hard alongside Natasha."

"Incredible. You know we would've loved to have you in the Howling Commandos."

"Really?" You said a bit too excited. Bucky noticed this and chuckled, "Yes! You're a great fighter. You have so much heart, passion, and ambition. You probably would've kicked all our asses."

"You're just saying that." You laughed.

"No, I mean it!"

The both of you finished your meal with lots of talking and laughing in between. It was the best date you'd ever been on, even if it took a while to get there. By the end of the night, you were both sitting with your backs against the foot of your bed. Halfway through diner, you put on some jazz music to fill the air as you two talked and it was still playing as you two sat there soaking up the sound. You were so close your shoulders were touching. There was a pillow laying on your lap, on top of that you rested your hands. Your eyes were closed and your head was facing the ceiling. Bucky looked over at you and smiled at how peaceful you looked. He looked down at your hands. You were sitting to the left of him, the side where his metal arm was. He wanted to hold your hand but was nervous. After debating about it in his mind he reached out and grabbed your hand. You didn't flinch, instead, you interlocked your fingers with his cold ones and smiled still with your eyes closed. Even though he couldn't feel your hand on his he smiled too.

You both sat there for a while hand in hand, eyes closed, enjoying the music and each other's presence. You were the one who finally broke the silence.

"Just kiss me already."

And so he did.

#bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #mcu #sebastian stan imagine #fanfic #imagine #marvel #avengers #the avengers #james buchanan barnes #the winter solider fanfiction #the winter soilder

62 notes · View notes

out-of-jams · 3 years

Text

Rebound || pjm

↠ Rebound ↞ Who cared if Kim Taehyung slept with other people? You sure as hell didn’t. That was what friends with benefits meant, right? No, it didn’t matter that you were halfway in love with him. And no, you sure as hell weren’t going to try and make him jealous with a complete stranger. Nope, not at all. Right?

Right.

Word Count: 7k.

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Warnings/Genre: College!au. s2l. Explicit language. Alcohol use. Slight angst. Jealousy. Pining. One shot. PG 16.

(yes, this is a repost of the original, but this has been changed and i'd already deleted it so yeet)

All works here are purely fiction. Everything I write is my intellectual property and therefore belongs to me. ©out-of-jams. Do not copy or repost without permission. That is illegal and you are stealing no matter if you give credit or not.

| | Masterlist | |

“So, you’re coming to the party tonight, right?”

The feminine and slightly accusatory voice of your best friend went in one ear and out of the other. You were too busy watching the digital red numbers counting upwards above the elevator doors to pay much attention to your phone. And the hum of the steel machine sent vibrations through your spine as you leaned against the back wall. With your heart in your throat and palms sweating, you took a deep breath.

“Hello? Y/n!”

“I dunno, Jennie,” you mumbled, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. The elevator was so slow that it practically moved backwards in time. “I might be too busy to go tonight.”

There was a slight pause on the other end of the line and you could practically picture the way Jennie was probably comparing outfits to wear for the night. “What you mean by that is, ‘I can’t go to the party with my best friend because I’ll be too busy fucking Kim Taehyung.’ Was I close?”

Not even her crass words could wipe the excited smile from your face. “Maybe.”

Kim Taehyung.

Three months of hooking up with the guy and just hearing his name still brought a blush to your cheeks. It was no secret that every girl and even some of the guys on campus had a crush on him at some point. He was beautiful. Adonis masquerading as a human made of flesh and blood. Tall, slim and charismatic, he knew everyone, and everyone knew him. If you needed a connection, Taehyung was the person that you went to. Teachers loved him, grandmothers loved him, hell, even animals loved him.

Which, of course, meant that he could have had any single person that he blinked those pretty brown eyes at.

When he’d pulled out a chair and sat down next to you in your shared photography class at the beginning of the semester, you couldn’t believe your eyes. And neither could any of the other girls in the room, if their glares were anything to go by. Because you weren’t anything special. Nor did you come close to Taehyung’s level. You didn’t have a bunch of friends, just Jennie, and you sure as hell weren’t anything to look twice at. So, you’d just chalked it up to him wanting to sit in one of the only two window seats and left it at that.

Fifteen minutes into class and he’d turned those chocolate eyes in your direction, chin resting in the palm of his hand. And when his cupid-bow lips parted, the smooth baritone of his voice spoke quietly in order to not interrupt the professor taking attendance.

“I haven’t seen you around before. What’s your name?”

Nine words. That’s all it took to seal your fate.

Five days later and you were pinned beneath his sweating, honey colored skin. Kim Taehyung had hypnotized you with his white toothed smile and you were pathetically weak to that silver tongue of his.

One night in his bed and you were his.

A single night turned into two and then three, and then before you knew it, Taehyung would wait for you outside of your last class for the day to walk you home. And his name would pop up on your phone at two am on a Saturday, his voice seductive through the receiver as he convinced you to take an Uber to his apartment.

You thought that you would have been strong enough to resist falling down the rabbit hole that was Kim Taehyung. But you were too weak to stop yourself from wanting more. From confessing to him your feelings that had built up with each press of his mouth to yours. You weren’t foolish enough to think that you were dating him. Though that did little from imagining that you were more than just a hook-up to him. That his heart beat quickly in his chest every time he laid those mocha eyes on you. It’d gotten to the point where you couldn’t take it anymore.

Which was exactly why you were glaring up at the slow ticking numbers above the elevator door with your foot tapping a nervous rhythm. Today was the day that you were finally going to grab the proverbial bull by the horns and confess your feelings for the man that walked your dreams like he owned them.

“I gotta go,” you quickly cut off whatever sentence Jennie had been in the middle of, already pulling the phone from your ear in preparation to hang up. “Talk to youlaterokaybye!”

Whether or not she’d been able to decipher your jumble of words wasn’t really your problem. Because the elevator came to a halt with one last obnoxious and unnecessary bounce. Closing your eyes, you swallowed.

“Okay, suck it up.” A deep inhale echoed through the steel box, accompanied by the rustle of the plastic bag of takeout dangling from your fingertips. “You got this, Y/n.”

A ding! was all the warning you got before the doors slid open along with your eyes.

And your stomach dropped all the way back down to the first floor.

Not even halfway down the hall, two bodies were mercilessly tangled with one another. Pushed up against one of the apartment doors, a flash of blond hair and tan skin was recognizable even with his back turned to you. And the girl, you couldn’t make out her face or a majority of her body seeing as how Taehyung’s was blocking her from view.

The elevator’s doors slowly started to close, but you couldn’t move. Frozen in place, all you could do was stare at Taehyung as he fished into his back pocket for his keys and blindly unlocked his front door. Both of them disappeared from sight just as the steel doors finally shut.

Your shocked, hurt expression was mirrored back to you in the morphed reflection. Plastic slipped through your fingers and the bag of takeout hit the floor with a muted thud. Vision blurring from tears, you jammed a finger into the button to go back down to the lobby floor. The elevator was sluggish in responding, so you pressed the plastic again. And again. And again.

How could you have been so stupid? So naive as to think that you would be the only person that Taehyung was hooking up with. You should have known that there was no way in hell he would have returned your feelings. But like the idiot you were, you’d let yourself get drunk on him. And now you were paying the price for being foolish.

The elevator finally moved, and you threw your head back to stop the tears from spilling over. Waiting until you were out of the shitty lobby to Taehyung’s shitty apartment building would be the only way you’d be able to hold onto your last shred of dignity.

“Back already?” Jennie didn’t even turn to look at you when you entered your shared dorm room, too busy examining her outfit in the full-length mirror. Whenever she got invited to go to a party, she always planned what she was going to wear hours in advance. Only to brush off the compliments she would receive at said functions with a giggle and nonchalant wave of her hand.

The door closed behind you with finality and you couldn’t hold back the sob that’d been threatening to break free since you fled Taehyung’s apartment building. Jennie whipped around at the sound, dropping the skirt she held in her hands and letting it fall to the floor.

“What happened?” In two seconds, she was across the room and held your face between her soft hands. Concern flickered through her dark colored eyes as she wiped the tears from your cheeks. “Did Taehyung do something to you? I swear to god, say the word and I’ll call up the guy from my biology class to kick his ass.”

You shook your head, which was more difficult than it looked with the grip she had on you. And when you opened your mouth to answer, the words barely made it past your lips with how hard the sobs rocked your body. “No...no, don’t call Jungkook. I’m just so stupid, Jennie.”

“You’re not stupid.” She murmured but guided you over to your bed and waited until you sat down to speak again. “Tell me what happened.”

There was something about her that made you spill your heart out. You’d been too reluctant to tell her about your feelings for Taehyung before. All she’d known was that the two of you hooked up frequently. She sat there patiently, nodding her head and scowling when you got to the part about him sleeping with other girls.

“So he never brought that up?” Jennie leaned back against your headboard and sucked her cheek in anger. “That he was seeing other people?”

Shaking your head, you whipped your damp eyes with the sleeves of your shirt. “No, but I should have known. I shouldn’t be so surprised.”

Your best friend opened her mouth to respond with what was most likely an angry rant aimed at summoning Jeon Jungkook to fight Taehyung. He was two years younger than her and yet that did little from preventing the enormous crush she had on the guy, even though she would argue otherwise. You held up a hand to stop her words before they could form.

“Look, I just want to forget about him, okay? I shouldn’t have thought...,” sighing, you ran a hand down your face, voice small. “I don’t want to talk about him anymore.”

“Okay then.” Jennie nodded her head slowly. She stood from the bed and crossed the small amount of space between your bed and hers. Swooping down to grab some of the discarded clothes on her duvet, she turned to shoot you a smirk. “You’ll just have to get over him.”

You flopped down on your back, throwing an arm over your face. “That’s what I just said.”

“Yes, but how do you get over him?”

Too emotionally exhausted to bother with throwing her a glare, you huffed in irritation. “If I knew that, I wouldn’t be lying here with my heart broken.”

A short pause encompassed the room before you heard Jennie’s footsteps approach your bed. She dragged your arm from your face and made sure you met her assured gaze. “That was rhetorical. You get over him by getting under someone else.”

You snorted, though it lacked amusement. “Having sex with a stranger won’t help.”

She shrugged and used her grip on your arm to pull you into a sitting position. “Or it might, you never know. You just need to find someone who can make you forget about Kim Taehyung.”

“That’s not possible,” your dry tone did nothing to dissuade her. Jennie threw a piece of fabric over your head, effectively blocking out all of the light and shrouding you in a blanket of darkness.

“It is possible. Now get dressed, you’re coming to that party with me tonight.”

“Do I have to?” You complained but held what you now realized was a skirt out in front of you. It was...well, short. Would barely even hit mid-thigh. “You know I don’t go to parties that often.”

“Which is exactly why you need to.” She was too busy examining a cute, short sleeve top to bother being affected by your glare. Apparently deeming it good enough, she tossed it in your lap. “If you don’t go, I’ll just drag you there.”

Arguing with Jennie was a lot like talking to a brick wall. Once she set her mind to something, getting her to change it bordered on impossible. And to be honest, you didn’t have the energy to even try. So with a grumble, you slid off of your bed. “Fine.”

“Maybe you should slow down?” Jennie’s suggestion came out more like a question, but you didn’t hear her because you were too busy downing another shot.

The vodka burned as it snaked its way down your throat and you hardly even noticed before you started to pour another shot. All around you, music poured from the obnoxiously large speakers set up throughout the frat house, shaking the floor with just how loud the bass was. Not even the music could detract from the heat of bodies grinding against each other on the makeshift dance floor.

You weren’t sure which frat house you were at to be honest. Not that it mattered. They were all the same anyway and the free alcohol had called your name the moment you stepped foot inside the packed place. Jennie stood next to you in the almost empty kitchen with a red solo cup held delicately in her manicured hand. She stared at you with barely hidden concern while you knocked back a third shot.

“O-kay.” She reached out a hand to grab the bottle of vodka from you when you went to pour another. “Pace yourself before I have to carry you home.”

“You’re the one that wanted me to come,” you complained but let her confiscate your alcohol anyway. “Might as well get drunk off the free supply.”

“Yes, well.” Jennie raised an eyebrow, scooting closer to you at the island when a guy you didn’t recognize approached to mix his own concoction of poison. “While that’s true, ending up face down in a dirty frat house toilet isn’t the way you wanna go out. Trust me.”

You paused in surveying the darkened room of dancing bodies to send her a questioning look. “You speaking from experience here?”

“Oh, shut up.” She let out a very unladylike snort into her cup and brushed her long black hair over her exposed shoulder. She nodded at the crowd in the other room. “Look, let’s just find you a hot guy to get under so you can get over that douchebag.”

The guy who’d been pouring himself a drink looked over at Jennie’s words, eyes lighting up in interest. She either didn’t notice or did and chose to ignore him. You sighed and tried your hardest to ignore the way your stomach dropped at the reminder of Taehyung. “I doubt I’ll find anyone here that could compare to him.”

A slap to your bare arm had you turning to glare at your best friend, fingers rubbing furiously at your now red skin. Jennie just rolled her eyes with an exasperated huff. “Not with that attitude you won’t. Besides, Kim Taehyung is not all that.”

The strange guy occupying the kitchen made himself scarce after that, whatever interest he may have had in the conversation fleeing at the mention of Taehyung. She ignored your look of disbelief and continued. “He’s not. There’s plenty of hotties here who would be eager to take his place. You could literally just close your eyes and point.”

She wasn’t wrong there. The number of attractive men that paraded themselves around the party like peacocks werenice to look at. But they weren’t Taehyung. And that was where your problems lie.

“Go take a lap.” Jennie didn’t wait for you to respond before her hand was on your back, pushing you towards the open kitchen archway. “If you don’t find someone who catches your eye, then we can just call it a night and get drunk.”

Letting out a put-upon sigh, you sent her a look over your shoulder and let her push you out of the kitchen. She didn’t follow, choosing instead to retreat back into the kitchen and strike up a conversation with a girl she apparently knew. Whatever. It wasn’t like you needed her to escort you around like you were a child at a birthday party. No! You were an adult. A grown woman who was going to get over Kim Taehyung.

And if you had to get under someone else to do it, well, that was exactly what you were going to do.

The barely lit living room was completely different from the bright lights in the kitchen, and you had to squint to let your eyes adjust for a moment. It was just like you’d seen when you’d walked through earlier, though you hadn’t been paying much attention then. Not even two feet to your left was a couple. What they were doing couldn’t even be defined as dancing, it was more like sex with clothes on.

Grimacing, you weaved through the crowd, most people not bothering to move out of your way. The seductive music that poured over your ears was silently beckoning you to move your hips to the beat, but you resisted. You weren’t nearly drunk enough to let loose on your inhibitions and drown in the pulsing rhythm. So, you pressed on, navigating from the living room and into the spacious foyer. It connected one side of the house to the other and you took a moment to breathe.

Eyes closed; you ran a shaking hand through your hair. You could do this. Hell, it wasn’t even the thought of sleeping with a stranger that made you hesitant. Whether or not you were just a hook-up to him, your feelings for Taehyung had been real. It’d been a very long time since you’d last felt the same way for someone, to the point where you’d begun to think that you never would again.

You were heartbroken.

Over a guy who couldn’t give two shits about you.

If you closed your eyes, you could hear his voice murmuring in your ear. And the ghosts of his fingertips could be felt running through your hair, short nails scratching against your scalp. The way his tongue spoke words was one of your favorite things about him, and his deep baritone practically yelled in your ear.

Wait.

Your eyes flew open in shock. No, it hadn’t been your imagination after all. Because Taehyung’s excited shout reached over the music and had your head snapping in that direction. Your feet moved before you registered it, right across the foyer and into the other room. Inside was just as dark as the living room, except this one was lit up by a glow-in-the-dark beer pong table situated right in the center.

Couches had been pushed up against the walls and were occupied by people either passed out or couples making out like they were alone in their own homes. You didn’t pay them any mind, nor did you notice anything else in the near vicinity. Because on the far side of the beer pong table stood Taehyung. His blond hair glowed white in the neon lighting and the yellow button-down shirt he had on made him look like a well-dressed highlighter.

He had one hand raised, a white ping pong ball held between his slender fingers. Dark brows were pinched in concentration and his tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth as he stared down the cup on the other side of the table. But that wasn’t what had you freezing in your tracks, effectively blocking the doorway.

His other arm was slung around the petite shoulders of the same girl you’d caught him making out with earlier that day. Or at least, you assumed it was her since you hadn’t been able to get a good glimpse of her face. Not like how you could now. She was pretty. Beautiful. With long brunette hair that framed her pixie-like face perfectly. And her cute, girlish giggle floated through the air while she watched with big, innocent eyes as Taehyung dramatically took his shot.

You didn’t even notice it land in the last cup standing on the other side, too busy caught up in how that girl was everything you weren’t. It was no wonder she’d caught his eye. You’d been surprised that he’d even given you attention in the first place but had taken it as a confidence booster. Had thought that maybe you weren’t as plain looking as you’d thought you were. But now?

Now you were positive that Taehyung had only slept with you because you were convenient. Or because he was bored. Whichever it was, you felt your insecurities rear their ugly head along with a flash of white-hot anger. Jealousy tightened your throat, and you couldn’t even stop yourself from glaring at the unsuspecting girl.

How dare he?

How dare he sleep with you and then throw you away like you were nothing? Like you meant nothing? Like you were just another notch under his belt?

You’d show him.

The crowd gathered around the table was cheering, some going up to pat Taehyung on the back. He was too busy flashing his boxy grin at a tall, dimpled man to even notice that you’d entered the room. A guy broke free of the crowd, shorter than some in stature but beautiful enough to make you look twice, and his feline-like eyes barely met your own before he slipped past you and out of the room.

“We need another player!”

A split second after the shout overtook the crowd, you found your feet moving on their own once again. Raising a hand in an attempt to be seen over the taller boys, you blamed the alcohol for the way your voice left your mouth unhindered. “I’ll play!”

The crowd parted at your call and you emerged on the other side before you could second guess yourself. Cups were being set back up by those standing on the sidelines, cans of beer cracking open and filling the plastic halfway up. Your eyes locked with Taehyung’s chocolate ones and his face morphed into one of surprise before a grin overtook his features. The arm he still had around the girl had yet to drop.

“Y/n, hey!” He waved an opened can of beer at you in greeting and it was by pure will alone that your steps didn’t falter. How was he acting so casual with his arm around another girl like he hadn’t just been making you scream his name two days ago?

Did you really mean so little to him?

Bitterness stung your throat and fed the anger coating your tongue.

“Are you my new partner?” A voice, so surprisingly sweet and raspy that it contradicted itself in the best possible way, drew your attention from the blond across the beer pong table.

You hadn’t been thinking straight, therefore you hadn’t even given a second thought to the fact that you’d just volunteered yourself to play a game you’d only participated in a handful of times. A glance to your left had you doing a double take. Because the guy approaching you didn’t call for anything less.

Full, kissable lips were the first thing about him that caught your eye. They were pulled back in a grin and you took a moment to notice a cute, crooked front tooth. Even with the lack of sufficient lighting, you could tell that his mouth was soft. That he applied chap stick often. Moving your gaze slowly upwards past a button nose, you finally met his gaze. His eyes weren’t chocolate colored like Taehyung’s or dark like Jennie’s.

Espresso.

The same shade as the coffee you drank in the morning to get through the day. Deep and expressive, they reflected the glow of the table despite the fact that they were squinted up into half-moons from his smile. He ran a lightly tanned hand through his black hair and your attention shifted to the two silver rings on his fingers. His hands, much like himself, were petite, but not in a way that made him look small.

No, he was slender, slim, and all leg. The muscles in his thighs were perfectly visible through the tight material of his ripped jeans. And a soft looking striped sweater took up his top half.

His dark brows were lifted in a silent question and it was at that moment that you remembered he was waiting for you to answer. Clearing your throat, you pushed Taehyung to the back of your mind and gave him your best smile.

“Yeah. I haven’t played in forever so I’m sorry if I suck.”

Laughter fell from his mouth, a sweet sound, and he shook his head at you. “That’s okay. I’m not very good either.”

In a flash of silver, he extended a hand out to you. “Park Jimin. And you are? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

Your hand met his. It was soft yet had calluses that made you wonder where he got them from. Tilting your head up, you met his curious stare. “Y/n. And I’d be surprised if you have. I don’t get out much.”

“Yet you’re here volunteering to play beer pong with me?” Jimin let go of your hand to press his palm to his chest, teeth flashing in another grin. “I’m honored.”

“Remember you said that when we lose.” You snorted in amusement.

“You guys playing or not?” The question came from the right side of the table and you turned to look at the same dimpled man Taehyung had been talking to. He waved his hand at the table with a smirk aimed at Jimin over your shoulder.

“Ignore Namjoon.” Jimin nudged your side with his elbow, making sure to catch your eye before he threw you a conspiratorial wink. “He’s drunk.”

“I heard that!” The man you assumed was Namjoon shouted over the music. He rolled his eyes and nodded his head towards Taehyung’s side of the table. The blond’s arm had dropped from the girl’s shoulders, but he wasn’t looking in your direction, too busy downing the rest of his beer. “Tae’s team starts since he won.”

Namjoon must have been playing as the referee, but with the way his eyes were glazed over, you wondered if he was in the right state of mind to. Taehyung crumpled his now empty can of beer and set it off to the side of the table, reaching forward to grab a ping pong ball and dip it into a cup of water next to his empty can. He barely even paused before taking his turn.

Of course, his shot landed.

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop a scowl from overtaking your face. When the unnamed girl at his side picked up her own ball, you silently prayed for her downfall. Or at least for her face to get stuck in that expression she was making. How was it possible to still look attractive when her nose scrunched like yeah?

“You got this, Minjae.” Taehyung’s encouraging words barely even registered through the green tinted fog clouding your vision.

She--Minjae--finally took her turn and as if in slow motion, the ball flew through the air and bounced against the rim of the first cup in the triangle. And because of course, it landed in the beer filled one next to it. Gritting your teeth, you glared at it.

Jimin pouted but grabbed up the cup the ball landed in anyway. Plucking it out, he handed it to you with a smile and grabbed the other. “Cheers.”

You absentmindedly tapped your cup against his and downed the bitter, carbonated alcohol. The taste lingered on your tongue. An arm being casually thrown over your shoulders had you glancing up from where you’d been watching Taehyung’s team get the balls back to go again. Jimin’s cologne washed away some of the stench of the party, masculine yet sweet, just like him. You had to stop yourself from inhaling like a weirdo when he murmured low enough for only you to hear.

“Okay, we should talk strategy.”

“There’s strategy to this game?” Your lips twitched in amusement. Flickering your attention to the other side of the table from the corner of your eye, you noticed Taehyung staring directly at you. Good. Pretending like you hadn’t noticed, you leaned into Jimin’s comforting warmth and grinned up at him. “I thought it was just a pretense to get wasted.”

A tiny dimple appeared between the corner of his mouth and his high cheekbone as a chuckle tumbled out. “While that’s true, the goal is to get drunk and win.”

“What did you have in mind then?”

Jimin’s espresso irises twinkled and he leaned closer conspiratorially, making sure to keep an eye on Minjae taking her turn. “Taehyung has been carrying their team all night. So, all you gotta do is distract him whenever it’s his turn.”

Her shot veered too far to the left and bounced off the table. Namjoon attempted to grab it out of the air, but he fumbled it and it fell to the sticky floor. Jimin’s words had your brows furrowing. “Distract him how?”

He shrugged, lightly jostling your shoulders with his arm. Taehyung was talking to Minjae, his words too quiet to hear, with a ball rolling between his fingers. Jimin leaned back a little, letting his eyes rove over you. “You’re cute. You’d sure as hell distract me.”

You couldn’t blame the people crowding the room for the way your cheeks flushed. The flirtatious compliment fell from his lips so easily and sincerely that you couldn’t doubt that he meant them. Which just made you flustered all over again. Clearing your throat, you did your best to play it off. Just as you opened your mouth to respond, a familiar voice had you snapping it closed again.

“It’s your turn.”

Taehyung had his arms crossed and he nodded at the cup his ball landed in when both you and Jimin looked over.

“Alright, alright,” your partner responded playfully, squeezing your shoulder with a smile just for you. “I’ll take this one, you can go first.”

While Jimin drained the cup of beer, you approached the table and took one of the balls from Namjoon with a nod of thanks. It was wet and sticky between your fingers and you took a moment to spare a thought towards how unsanitary the game was. One of the cups in the middle of the other team’s formation caught your eye. Hesitating for only a moment, you took aim and tossed the ball.

It landed right in the center and the noise from the crowd faded in the background when you met Taehyung’s heavy stare. His eyes were unreadable, but that wasn’t all that surprising. From your brief three-month stint with him, you’d learned that while friendly and outgoing, he was very good at hiding his emotions when he wanted to. Which made you wonder what exactly was going on behind those chocolate eyes of his.

“Holy shit.” Jimin appeared at your side and you broke your staring contest to beam over at him. “I thought you said you sucked.”

“Maybe you’re just my good luck charm.” You shrugged nonchalantly and tossed your hair over your shoulder. Oh, god. Were you trying too much? Flirting too hard?

“Maybe.” By the pleased look on his face, you’d take that as a no.

Jimin took his turn, landing his ball in a cup. You cheered along with the crowd and raised your hand in the space between the two of you. His palm hit yours in a high-five and you couldn’t even hide your excitement. It wasn’t that you were super competitive, you just wanted to beat Taehyung.

Though maybe beating him was setting your sights a little too high.

Because you and Jimin didn’t last much longer against him. Contrary to him assuming that you’d be any type of distraction to the blonde across the table at all, you weren’t. How could you, when Minjae stood by his side? Every time she missed a shot, he’d say something to wipe the frown from her face. Instead of forcing her to down the beer she grimaced at, Taehyung would drink it for her.

Had you really meant so little to him? What the hell did she have that you didn’t?

The answer to your silent question echoed in your mind as you watched him line up to take his winning shot.

Everything.

Practically in slow motion, the ball flew across the table and landed in the cup. It spun ‘round, and ‘round, and ‘round against the inner rim before finally falling into the carbonated liquid with a quiet plop!

Just like before, everyone spectating the game screamed. You weren’t anywhere near drunk enough to deal with the volume. It took a lot more than a few half-full cups of warm beer to push you over the edge. Maybe you shouldn’t have let Jennie confiscate that bottle of vodka you’d been drinking out of earlier.

At your side, Jimin let out a groan. He didn’t sound all that upset at having lost a second time and you spared a moment to get caught up in the way his hand felt on your shoulder. Despite the fact that it was incredibly stuffy inside of the house, he wasn’t overflowing with heat. The look he gave you was one of shared exasperated amusement. Like the two of you were in on a secret and hadn’t just lost a game.

Looking back over to the other side of the table, you were just in time to see Minjae throw her arms around Taehyung’s neck. He didn’t even hesitate to bend down and let her pull him into a congratulatory kiss.

Watching Taehyung touch the girl at his side like you weren’t even there made your blood boil. And if you were in the right state of mind, maybe you would have realized that it was hurt, not anger, that had you turning to Jimin. He’d just finished downing the final cup of beer when you approached him, grabbing his hand like it belonged in yours.

You weren’t sure what you were doing. Maybe it was the desire to be wanted that took control of your actions. Or perhaps the need to have someone erase the ghost of Taehyung’s touch that still lingered on your skin. Whatever it was, you found yourself gravitating towards the man at your side.

“Hey Jimin?”

Jimin’s coffee-colored eyes flickered down at you with a smile, but he didn’t pull away. And that was all the sign you needed to muster up your courage. If he rejected you, well, you’d have to change your name and move to another country. Picturing Jennie in your mind, you tried to conjure up every flirtatious move she’d used on guys before and fluttered your lashes, a sweet upwards tilt to your lips.

“You wanna go dance?”

Hand giving yours a quick squeeze, Jimin leaned down to murmur in your ear, “you sure you can keep up, sweetheart?”

His cheek was close enough to brush against yours as he spoke, and you blamed the alcohol for the way your mind went blank. Swallowing to clear your head, you responded. “I should be asking you that.”

Jimin leaned back just far enough for you to see the smirk that quirked up the side of his mouth. His thumb stroked along the back of your hand in time with his words. “We’ll see.”

You didn’t even have a chance to look back at Taehyung before Jimin was leading you through the crowd around the table and across the foyer. Hopefully he couldn’t hear how hard your heart was beating in your chest. You’d be lying if you said that Park Jimin wasn’t attractive. That his voice didn’t make you want to hear what it would sound like panting in your ear. The thought had your cheeks flushing, but you barely had time to let it permeate your mind. Jimin must have found a spot on the packed dance floor, because he turned to face you.

Maybe it was the lack of lights that made his eyes spark, or perhaps it was the challenge that simmered in the air between the two of you like an unlit spark. Whatever it was, Jimin’s hands found your waist and he pulled you in close until your hips met his. Your hands instinctively flew to his chest. He was warm and his sweater was soft beneath your palms as you slowly slid them upwards to lightly lock your arms around his neck.

It was either a blessing or a curse that had the song fading out into one that was more sensual. You would put money on the former, especially when his plush lips brushed against the shell of your ear.

“Show me what you got.” His words were completely unnecessary, since your hips had already begun swaying in time with the tempo.

Park Jimin must have been a dancer. That was the only excuse you could think up that proved how he moved. Like it was second nature, like his body had a mind of its own. One of his hands slid up your side until it rested right beneath your breast, and a leg found itself slipping between both of yours. The group of people dancing behind you didn’t even register on your radar; you were too busy focusing on the thick muscle of his thigh.

His hands angled your hips until you were grinding up right against it. You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you when he tensed his thigh right in time for you to grind against it. It sent a jolt of pleasure through you so suddenly that your nails gripped his shoulders in surprise. When you didn’t pull back or push him away, he took that as a sign to do it again.

That time you were expecting it, but that didn’t make it any less pleasurable. Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth was the only thing you could do to stop the sound that threatened to leave your throat. Dancing with someone you’d just met shouldn’t feel like that, shouldn’t make you imagine what it would be like if the two of you were alone.

Eyes closed, you let yourself get lost in the music and the feel of Jimin’s body. You couldn’t even blame the alcohol for the heat that simmered between your legs. Sweat made his dark hair stick to his forehead, and despite this, it was silky beneath your fingers as you gripped it. Ran your fingertips through the damp strands while his warm breath caressed the side of your neck.

You didn’t know how long the two of you danced, didn’t care to keep track.

The soft press of his lips to your neck had you tilting your head back for him. Your mouth parted as he kissed his way upwards. Once he reached where your jaw met your neck, he caught your skin between his teeth. As he sucked the sting of the pain away, you could practically feel the hickey beginning to bruise. But you didn’t mind. You were sure that if someone were to look over at the two of you, they’d see another couple getting handsy in the middle of the dance floor.

Not knowing who initiated it, one second Jimin’s lips were on your neck and the next they were on yours. Soft. That was the first and only word to pierce through the fog in your mind. The second was that holy shit he was a good kisser. Novice was not a word that you would use to describe him. And when his tongue parted your lips and slipped into your mouth to caress your own, you were consumed by all things Park Jimin.

The music, the heat of the crowd, the smell of beer, it all faded away until all you knew was the taste of his mouth. His teeth when they caught your bottom lip as he slowly pulled away before coming back for more.

“Your place?” You barely managed to mumble against his lips. And you knew it was sudden, knew you barely even knew him beyond his name, but your desire for him demanded to be addressed now.

“You sure?” Jimin’s voice was coated in lust, huskier than it had been when the two of you were just playing beer pong. His question, spoken between kisses, brought a smile to your face. Even in the heat of the moment, he was sweet.

But what you needed wasn’t sweet.

Your teeth caught his ear. “I want you.”

With one last press of his lips to yours, Jimin pulled away and his half-lidded coffee eyes met yours. They were glazed over, but not with the alcohol that flowed through his veins. He held your gaze, clearly searching for something before he found it. “C’mon.”

And as he led the way through the crowded bodies and towards the front door, you could have safely said that any and all thoughts of Taehyung were long gone from your mind.

#bts #bts fic #jimin #jimin fic #taehyung fanfic #btsbookclub #ficswithluv #magicshopnet #networkbangtan #bangtanarmynet #taehyung

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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years

Text

Chizuru Town - Killer Instinct

Yoooo, the MC has killed people before Cassell.

“Shouldn’t we hurry?” Even though it was clear that something serious was happening in this Chizuru town, Chu Zihang was only walking ‘somewhat briskly.’ not even a jog. You strolled with him, lightly petting the cat who was nestled tight in your arms. The air was still warm with early summer. The two of you looked like a boyfriend and girlfriend out for a stroll at night and wouldn’t have turned any heads. Were it not for the circumstances it might have been romantic. But your heart held no room for any sort of romantic feelings at the moment. You just wanted to feel safe.

“We need to save our energy. And I wanted to ask you. What’s your connection to the Lenin?”

You glance up at him. “I guess I do owe you an explanation don’t I?”

“Not really. Truthfully, I'm just curious. It pertains to the mission, but only Caesar needs to know. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” His voice was quiet.

As you continue to walk, you suddenly notice that the sky seems brighter than normal. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness of the power outage in Chizuru, the stars had started to become visible in greater and greater numbers. Perhaps in an hour or so, the sky would start to appear like the one over your old home.

“Looking back, it was truly a dreadful place where I came from. But it was home. It was beautiful in a lot of ways. Life was hard, but that made any level of joy and happiness so secret and special.” Smiling faces float into your vision, one by one, like an old photo album.

“The Lenin came by to resupply the port every Christmas. We always looked forward to it.” Your steps slow to a crawl. “It’s just as Chisei said to you. The Lenin made a stop in a nameless port in Siberia after which it took the dragon from the port and the port was burned. That was the last time I saw the Lenin, until today.”

“Why was the port burned?”

“It wasn’t… just that the port was burned, Zihang. It was bombed. There were people shooting at us from helicopters.” You couldn’t keep the tremble out of your voice.

“The scarring then… you were shot. Was that when it happened?”

“Huh?”

“When you were hurt. I saw the scars. It looked like you were hit by a high powered weapon. A wound that should have been fatal.”

“I wasn’t the only one shot that day… just the only one that survived.” You drop your face to fight the rising sorrow.

“The port wasn’t just burned then. It was specifically to kill the people there. Is that what you’re saying?”

You nod.

“Then I understand Caesar’s words to you much better then. It’s not just the fact of revenge… you’re a witness, MC. You have to live to tell the story. Don’t be so reckless with your life.” Chu Zihang said.

“Senpai, are you caring for me?” You say. “Hmm… what would Little Dragon Lady have to say about that?”

Zihang’s back straightened a little and you flinched internally. But then he relaxes. “I’m not sure if she’s the jealous type. You’re probably fine. After this mission is over, what will you do?”

“Assuming I’m still alive? I honestly… don’t know. I haven’t thought that far.”

“Understandable.” He suddenly stopped walking. A building was being surrounded by cars and motorcycles and from the rumble of the streets nearby, more were on the way. Vans blocked the windows of the first floor and men were making an effort to roll up the security door keeping them from the entrance.

“This way.”

“Is that the Internet Cafe?” You whisper as you’re ushered through the shadows and into a nearby alley. “I thought it was safe!”

He didn’t answer. He was watching people get out of the car with pistols and automatic weapons.

“On my signal… three… two … one…” He darts out of the alley way and sprints behind the people, approaching the building, hiding behind the backs of those in the rear. You follow as quickly as you can into the alley right beside the building. Sure enough there was a side entrance.

Zihang slices off the padlock holding the door closed and it swings open. But no one was guarding here. He motions you inside and you follow him into a narrow corridor. There was no light at all but the moon reflected off the rippling vinyl tile and the shining metal shelving. This seemed to be a storage and maintenance area. Zihang was moving silently and rapidly, not giving you any more instructions. He suddenly paused. There was a vending machine. It was off but Zihang could see what was inside. Clean packaged panties.

He pointed the sword at the glass and carved a near perfect circle with the tip. Your jaw drops. Was Zihang seriously this sort of pervert? The circle falls from the glass with a quiet tap. And he reached inside. “Here put these on.”

You’re stunned. How could he have known you weren’t wearing … your eyes widen. “You peeked?”

“I couldn’t help seeing when you kicked.” He tossed you the package.

With anyone else you would want to slap their face, and you scowled as you caught the package. “Can’t believe you.”

“It’s not like anything I haven’t seen before. Like I said, I saw your scars.”

“Stop talking!” You hiss. “And turn around. I’m not putting them on in front of you!”

Chu Zihang immediately turns around as you take off your shoes and set the cat down. Kitty darts under the vending machine as soon as he’s on the floor. Your embarrassment isn’t warranted. It wasn’t his fault but still, you can’t believe he saw that! But when you’ve got one leg in, he starts to run without another word, down the hallway, leaving you behind! You rush to finish dressing and slip your shoes back on. When you get to the end of the hallway, you’re suddenly blinded by bright headlights. The intense glare stung your eyes, but not before you caught the dark silhouette of the person standing in front of the car.

You blinked rapidly to clear your vision. There he was standing, in a leather jacket. That broad back. That blond hair. Your heart leaps in your throat. Caesar! He was alive!

But before you can even call out to him, another shadow darted past him.

Your eyes had just adjusted to the brights of the car only for those lights to immediately go dark. The car's front end crashed to the ground, cut cleanly from the rest of the car. You were blinded by the lights and now you’re blinded by their after image. As you’re trying to blink that away, you hear the crash of metal blade on metal blade and then a sharp sounding gunshot! The sparks hit the car and ignited the fuel lines and once again the space was lit up this time by firelight!

Caesar was engaged in a furious battle with an assailant that was taking advantage of the rapid cycling of light and dark. He was moving quickly, parrying every attack. Caesar couldn’t slow down, flinch or make any mistakes. He was pinned.

Without a doubt, this was the elite fighter of this gang, meant to slow Caesar down. The lobby of the cafe was filled with people with guns but they were all watching this man attack Caesar, like it was some sort of ballet performance.

No one had noticed MC.

You crouch low, like a panther stalking in the dark, prowling around the chairs that were propped up on tables. You reach the man at the very end of the wall closest to you. His eyes were fixed on the fight. The speed of the two combatants was similar and their strength was almost equal. It was now a competition of swordmanship and endurance. Who could be perfect the longest. It was quite the nailbiter.

You leap up and wrap your legs around the unsuspecting young man’s waist and your arms around the man’s throat. By compressing the arteries in his neck, he’s unconscious in a mere second! Then you grab his gun. You immediately point the barrel of the gun up towards the ceiling and fire it at the sprinkler system! The combo of the smoke and the damage to the nozzle sets off the entire system and soon everything and everyone is drenched in the heaviest down pour they’ve ever experienced! The fire on the car goes out and the hall is full of shouting. They’re waving their guns and looking for the target! Caesar dove behind a thick heavy wood receptionist counter and you take the gun and follow him in the dark and wet confusion.

"Is it necessary to fight even now? Stop when you recognize me, okay?" Chu Zihang yelled.

"Damn, how can I be sure it's you? I can't see clearly! It wasn’t like I was practicing. If I stopped you would take my head off!" Caesar yelled.

"Internal conflicts will be resolved when we escape! Unity! Unity!" Lu Mingfei also yelled.

“Caesar! You’re okay! I’m so glad you’re okay!” You didn’t care what they were going on about. Your voice brought Caesar around to look at you. His smile was bright but then he looked appalled. He quickly took off his jacket and covered over your white button down that was soaked with sprinkler water and rendered completely transparent. Chu Zihang had given you a pair of panties but not a bra.

“Zihang! I thought I could trust you to take care of her and you’re letting her walk around like an exhibitionist!”

Lu Mingfei’s face was completely flushed. “I didn’t see! I didn’t see!”

“We have more important things to think about! Duck!” Caesar grabbed the back of your neck and forced you to the floor.

It would have been nice for everyone happily to come back from the dead, but there was no time for pleasantries and hugs ...... they heard the sound of short-barreled shotguns being loaded in droves.

The sound of gunfire was deafening, and the barrage of bullets came overwhelmingly.

"MP7! Lie down!" Caesar yelled.

Caesar knew the power of such rounds all too well. two seconds after he pulled you and Lu Mingfei down, dense bullet holes appeared in the wall opposite you. The MP7 penetrated the wood and still had energy to pierce the wall.

"You can't look at them as ordinary punks, they're here to kill us!" Chu Zihang lay on the ground, not daring to look up. "Very well prepared!"

“Don’t compliment them, Zihang!” You scream.

All you can think is that the people from Black Swan Bay had come back. They’ve come back to kill you. They’ve realized you’re a witness to Black Swan Bay and they’re here for you! You have a gun in your hands and you can fire back, but it was nothing compared to this level of pressure. They were cheering and reloading, confident in their win. You look up at Caesar. He was wearing a dangerous smile. The wood was turned to splinters but the marble countertop was still intact. He casually tipped the marble counter so it laid more on its edge.

The boys screamed with excitement, but the screams were soon replaced by screams of pain as the dense lead bullets bounced off the marble countertop, then bounced off the floor and ceiling, covering the boys from the front, above, left and right.

Ancient chanting echoed in the darkness, as if ancient bells roared.

The air instantly heated up and the light was almost like a sunrise. The wall of crimson pushed past to cover the boys. The temperature around them rose to five or six hundred degrees in an instant. The boys felt as if they were staying in the sun. The hot air entered their bodies and could even burn their tracheas!

The black shadow stood where the crimson wall was born, black and red arcs of light flowing over the circular transparent interface around him.

The Spirit of Speech- Royal Fire, at the most conservative way to explode with instant heat, not enough that it would kill. The gangsters thought they were unarmed, and they were indeed unarmed, but Chu Zihang himself was a Vulcan cannon!

The high temperature quickly fell back, Caesar stepped on the blazing ground to pick up the short-barreled shotguns and bullet belts dropped by the mob. You hurry over to join him, looking like a child wearing his jacket. “Caesar… I’m so glad…” You were instantly reminded why you needed to stand behind him. While you were perfectly fine on your own, with just a shrug of his shoulders, Caesar had managed to get back at a room full of gloating loonies.

“Save your words.” He waved a hand. “We have to keep moving.” He kept his voice gentle but every muscle in his body was still taut. “Nice shooting by the way. I’ll put that in my report. Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Die?” You respond immediately with a cheeky grin.

Your answer stops him short and he regards you again with an intense stare. “Remind me to invite you to the Student Union when all this is over. Though I’m sure I won’t forget.”

The boys were badly burned on the surface of their bodies, and now the adrenaline was useless. They were rolling on the ground in pain, and Lu Mingfei rushed over to stomp on these little bastards. The youngest of these guys may only be 16 or 17 years old. The oldest is only in his early twenties, but human life in their eyes is not something that needs to be taken seriously, the problem is that they really chose the wrong opponent.

More importantly, they were too young to know who you were. They couldn’t be assassins targeting you over Black Swan.

“The high heels are really good for kicking people when they're down.” You quip with a little bit of irritation. Lu Mingfei had no clue how ridiculous he looked in that tight dress and heels kicking a guy with second degree burns. You seriously wonder how in the world he ever got on this team being so completely honorless? You wonder if you should tell Caesar what you know about his feelings toward his fiancee and then you realize that its likely that Caesar already knew and just didn’t care. It’s not like Lu Mingfei was any competition.

“Look down on me all you want. Hmph.” Mingfei shot back. “I’d said I’d stomp them and I won't’ be breaking that promise!”

You’re both interrupted by the roar of motorcycle engines coming closer and closer until the noise makes it impossible to hear! Bright headlights shone into the room and the black motorcycle veered around the broken car. The rider was holding a sword in the air. He opened his mouth and shouted a loud cry then dropped the sword forward.

The roar of the bikes was like the roar of the helicopters over Black Swan Bay. It’s not that you weren’t afraid. It’s just that experience told you that running in this situation was pointless. They’d just catch up with you and shoot you in the back. The only way to escape was to kill your opponent first. You didn’t think of yourself as a killer. Experience had taught you there was no other option.

You lift the gun into your other hand and aim directly at the closest motorcycle rushing at you. He was holding a knife, leering at you but his confidence burst at the sight of the gun in your hand. You aimed it right at the center of the forehead but then the wheel of his motorcycle exploded and the young man went flying off. You pull the trigger but the shot misses completely.

“MC!” Caesar snarls. "Don't clash with the madman! Retreat back the way we came!”

When you catch up to him, he pulls the gun out of your hands. “If you want to criticize Mingfei, don’t use guns against knife wielders.”

“He was on a motorcycle!” Of all people, you thought Caesar would understand. They were nearly killed just now and he was already resorting to gentle tactics?

“Don’t question me.” He wrapped the rifle’s band around his shoulders. “You’re not getting this back. Let’s go!”

“You’re too stunned to speak. You had imagined that Caesar of all people would understand a true life and death struggle. It seemed only weeks ago that your friends’ blood was being soaked into the snow and you were not going to survive unless the enemy died. You stood next to Renata who wielded the automatic machine gun and mowed down a helicopter, killing those inside.

You have to do this to protect the ones you love.

Caesar, the one who understood so much about you, didn’t understand this.

#Dragon Raja

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hirokari · 3 years

Text

↠ plaster

pairing: jungmo x reader

tags: high school!au, play!au, clumsy!Reader, fluff

warnings: minor explicit language

— “um... does anyone know where i can find a plaster?”

a/n: ha! its a miracle! she’s updated with an imagine! :P n e ways i think my plan is too update with an imagine once every 1-2 months...? my writer’s block is horrible :’(

Senior year.

The year everyone had been dreading, just one more step until they're out of this hell hole. And yet, what seems like the most relieving thing in the world, it takes one play, one role to mess it up for him.

His brown irises skim through the pinned papers on the school's pinboard, hoping for his name to turn out in the 'extras' parts. But the more he scans fir his name, the more his stomach drops.

Until he'd found his name.

Jungmo groans, the tips of his eyes dropping in sync with his grimacing lips. His fist hits the wall hard, startling one of his classmates.

"Hey, what's up man... oh, you got the role lead! Bro, that's awesome!"

It doesn't help the fact that everyone's congratulating him for something he clearly didn't intentionally aim for. He'd actually slacked his audition, but maybe that's what got him the spoiled prince's role.

"A-Ah, please, it's... not that great." He stammers, rather out of frustration more than humbleness. He rubs the back of his neck in s repeated, eager matter, the endless praises ticking him off even more.

"Aw, come on, Mogu! Embrace the prince in you!" Minhee emphasizes into his mic, followed by a fit of immature cackling from himself and Woobin. Jungmo clicks his tongue of annoyance, "This senior play can suck my a-"

"Cheer up, Jungmo. You're the center of attention-"

"That's just it! Sure, I'd like the fame and stuff, but for a stupid prince role? Come on, dude. No thanks."

Jungmo sighs out of exasperation, slouching further into his seat. He mutters a curse followed by the younger's name, cracking a smirk when Minhee doesn't bother to hide his whimper mixed with the sound of him shuffling against his bed sheets.

"Right, my guys, I'm heading out. I'm tired from all this fame," He concludes with a yawn, stretching his arms in front of himself, nodding in content when he hears his bone sockets pop (or crack, if you say it like that).

"Alright, g'night, princey." Minhee snickers. Woobin chuckles, "Yeah, lights out for you, your highness."

Jungmo mumbles a few sleepy slurs under his breath, clearing his throat as he disconnects from the FaceTime. He's so frustrated that he'd clicked a button one too many times, and his phone lags aren't helping.

Tomorrow's rehearsals are going to be hell.

"Is this okay?" A girl— who Jungmo had just realized was looking at him suggestively— mumbles lowly, her voice probably raspy on purpose as she measures his waist down with a measuring tape. She licks her lips and nibbles on the bottom one, but it really looks like she's trying to find the stuck piece of broccoli between her teeth with her tongue.

He gulps thickly, finding the situation not to his liking. "...it's not okay?" He answers rather in a questioning tone. She laughs, obviously not taking his answer seriously and resting her hand to his chest, "You're really funny."

He's had enough. He's uncomfortable, and really, really hot in this stuffy room with other people in the play who wouldn't care about his sticky situation. He's close to slapping this girl. That is, until the door opens slowly.

Jungmo's attention strays from the attempting girl to whoever had just come in, realizing that from the door was the only natural light that illuminates in the room. He ceiling lights make him sleepy, maybe because of how boring and dull it was.

Seeing the first ray on sunlight since a while caused him to squint when it shone directly at his eyes, the air now smelling grassy from the field directly outside the dusty storage room the students had (for some reason) voted to measure for costumes in.

"Um... does anyone know where I can find a plaster?" You ask softly, but loud enough to catch everyone's attention. It's quiet for a brief moment, and you panic internally, as if you'd just interrupted a starved wolf's meal.

But one of your classmates wave over for you, to which you scurry over to with a relieved sigh.

Jungmo's eyes couldn't leave your figure. He admired the nice taste in clothes you've spent all morning picking out, and your messy hair tied into a lazy style. He watched you wrap on the plaster around your finger, your tongue sticking out a little out of habit.

He doesn't know why, he really doesn't, but it makes him smile, seeing you struggle with the sticky side of the plaster.

"Hey," Jungmo finally says to the previous suggestive girl, and he fights down the urge to just cringe when she bats her lashes at him while purring out a response. He gestures his head towards your direction, "do you know who that is?"

"Oh, the clutz kid? Don't even bother-- she's lame, and always clumsy with herself." The girl rolls her eyes, twirling the ends of her hair. "She's came in for another plaster— She's clearly only pricking herself for some attention while making the play fits."

She makes the play's outfits? By hand?

Jungmo's impressed, and intrigued. He won't let this chance slip.

"Craaap," You hiss out, leaning your head back against the wall. It's the fifth time you've hurt yourself with the same needle. Yui snickers, "Should I get you another coke?"

"What? Why coke?" "...well, I'm getting coke, you want some?" "...yes please. I'll go look for some plasters... again."

She nods with a playful hum, dashing off to the vending machine all the way across the building. Sucking on the sweet, metallic tasting fluid from your finger, you slowly stand up, mentally preparing yourself for another trip for plasters.

That is-- until a sudden voice calls out a 'hey,'.

Turning around, your brows ride up in surprise when you see a tall boy clad in a black hoodie leaning on the wall you had been sitting against.

"Yeah?" You answer quietly, retracting your finger from your lips. The boy reaches up to scratch the back of his head with one hand as the other rummages into his hoodie's pouch.

"Well, uh, I noticed you were looking for some plasters a while ago, and um... figured you were clumsy. So I got you a pack," He reaches out, and you see a box of plasters.

Your chest tightens at his thoughtful actions. Stranger or not, he sure knew how to swoon people-- or at least, you.

"O-Oh! So it's obvious I'm pretty messy, huh?" You jest, accepting the box from his hand. He shrugs, "Eh, who isn't? Messy is good sometimes, right?"

"Right," You repeat, tearing the box open slowly. You spot more crimson seeping from your skin, which causes you to grab a plaster in a hurried matter.

Now, five minutes later, here you are back on the floor next to the kind boy who had bought you the pack of plasters.

"Thank you, by the way." You turn to him, a smile gracing your lips. The side of his lips quirks up, "Don't mention it, uh... I didn't catch your name."

"Y/N."

You extend a palm, and he grins at the amount of plasters it's covered in.

"Jungmo."

He envelopes your hand in his bigger one, a firm shake being the first step to a great connection.

#koo jungmo #cravity #cravity imagines #kang minhee #seo woobin #cravity x reader #jungmo imagines #park serim #allen ma #song hyeongjun #kim taeyoung #ahn seongmin #ham wonjin #produce x 101 #x1

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babyspiderling · 3 years

Text

Tiny Dancer Michael Jackson x reader (Triumph era)

"Blue jean baby, LA Lady, Seamstress for the band"

I pulled the shining fabric through the machine, turning a square of sequin material into a shirt for one of the boys. I adjust the needle of my machine as someone opens the door. I glance up to see Michael peeking his head in. "Oh, Michael, perfect timing. I need you to try this on. And if you could get your brothers in here too, I need to do fittings on the outfits I've already finished." I hand him the shining fabric, as well as a pair of white pants. "Put these on, I'm planning on putting some sequin on the knees, and I need to see where that falls on you." I shoo him out the door as I thumb through my shelves of fabric, deciding on what to work with next. Once again my door is opened, this time four Jackson's trample through the opening. Randy and Marlon automatically move towards my designs pinned to the wall, Tito is drawn to the shining fabrics, and Jackie leans against the door frame a small smile blooming on his face. I swat Tito's hand away from the fabrics, very territorial of my materials. "Alright guys, it's fitting day!" I organized outfits by person, making it easy to select an outfit for each man and give to the correct person. I shoo them out the door as well as Michael comes back in, a perfect fit.

"Alright Mike, what do you think? Too loose anywhere, too tight anywhere? Go ahead and do a couple steps to make sure it doesn't get in the way of anything." He does his little ankle breaking shuffle, spinning a couple times. He shoves his hands into the pockets and shrugs. "Feels good, perfect fit." I smile and nod, feeling proud of getting his perfect size on the first try. I grab my swatches of silver fabric and rest on my heels in front of him. With a mouth full of pins, I feel around his legs to find his knees, pinning the fabrics in place. Leaning back, I inspect the patches, muffling out a "Heels together." as I inspect them closely to make sure the two sides are identical. I hear Michael say "Wow, you're really good at this.", and I chuckle in return. "Glad I can be of service. You like it?" He murmurs an affirmation, and he lifts me off my heels. I search his face, memorizing every single detail. My hand reaches up to his face, his weight leaning into my touch. "I love you Mike." Kissing my palm, he rests his forehead against mine. "I love you too." I enjoy his presence just a little longer before stepping away, clearing my throat. "Alright, I've got another outfit for you to try on. Careful with the pins, and I'll see you in a bit, ok?" He chuckles, kissing my cheek one last time before exiting. "Ok. I'll be careful. See you when I get done."

Rolling my eyes, I sit back down at my seat, hemming a skirt Janet had begged me to alter. Tito then entered, his sequin vest shining, and his outfit going together very well if I say so myself. He inspected himself in the mirror, almost as if trying to see what was missing. His eyes lit up and he turned towards me. "That's it! I need a cowboy hat!" My eyebrows crease and my jaw drops in confusion. "You need a what? Tito, no. You are not a country band, no one else is wearing a cowboy hat. You do not need a cowboy hat." He slides up to me, puppy dog eyes staring me in the face. "Please Y/N, it'll look really cool. Plus it'll tie the whole thing together. I've already got the vest and everything." I huff, throwing my hands up in the air. "Fine! Tito, you can get a cowboy hat, but you have to find one and I will jazz it up, understood? I am a seamstress, not a hatter." His face lights up at getting his way, hollering and spinning me. "Yes! I knew you'd agree! Thanks Y/N!" I roll my eyes playfully shoving him away. "Is there anything else wrong or missing with the outfit? Besides the cowboy hat, anyways." He turns and twists, pretending to play guitar, and does a couple steps. He shakes his head. "Nope, all good. Just need to get the hat. Which I'll go out and get when we're done here." I hand him a second outfit, sending him on his way. Marlon and Randy follow one right after the other. While hemming Randy's pants, I kept having to chide Marlon from touching my stuff. I yelled over my shoulder, "Marlon Jackson if I find a fingerprint on my fabric or designs I swear I will give you the ugliest tour outfits until the end of time." He raised his hands in surrender and took a seat.

Jackie and Michael came in about the same time, Michael letting his older brother go first. "Alright Jackie, what do you think. Anywhere too loose or too tight?" Jackie wiggles around and lifts his leg. "The pants are a little loose. But overall, it's all good." I nod, filling my mouth with pins, sitting on my heels in front of him. Jackie smirks down at me, "Babe, if you wanted to get on your knees for me, you could've just asked." I roll my eyes, pinning the inside of his pant leg tighter, pointing a pin threateningly at him. He smiles at me flexing his hands in surrender. I see out of the corner of my eye Michael shifting in his seat, a scowl deep in his face. I send a smile his way before finishing Jackie's pants.

Rocking myself back to stand, I stagger at the blood flowing back into my legs. A large pair of hands wrap around my hips to steady me, and I look up to see Michael staring down at me. I give him a reassuring smile and whisper, "I'm ok Mike, thank you." With a smile in return, he releases his grip and takes his place for hemmings. I see Jackie flick his gaze between Michael and I, his face scrunched up in concentration. I shrug it off, trying not to give anything away. "Alright, Michael, you know the drill. How's it fit?" His white pants from earlier are simply duplicated since Michael has a talent for wearing out his costumes faster than anyone else. He has a red Hawaiian print shirt tucked into it, a few buttons undone. "The pants fit, but they're a little loose on the belt line. Nothing you need to fix or anything, just a belt would make it perfect." I nod, checking over his outfit myself for loose threads, puckers in the seams, loose buttons, but find nothing wrong. "Alright, let me add that to the list with Tito's cowboy hat." At the mention of the horrible idea of a cowboy hat, Randy and Marlon are back, Tito not far behind. Marlon screeches and cackles. "Tito, you want a cowboy hat? C'mon man!" Tito huffs, and folds his arms under his chest. I roll my eyes and call out to everyone "Alright everyone. Mike, Jackie, go change. Jackie, please be careful with those pins! You three, decide which order you're going in for fittings, and then we're done for the day." I pin and adjust Tito and Marlon's outfits, Jackie and Michael returning while I finish up on Randy. "Thank you boys. Just take a seat while I finish up here." I place the last pin in Randy's sleeve, shortening it to the correct length. "Randy, are the pins comfortable enough for you to stay here for a couple minutes?" He nods and I open my mouth, "Alright guys, we're all done for the day. Please I am begging you guys, do not rip up these costumes. I'm looking at you Michael, if you rip these shirts like last time, I will send you out in whatever you have packed for tour." A few chuckles are heard and Michael smiles and rolls his eyes. They all take their leave as I sit back at my machine, ready to fix everything from today. Michael calls out to his brothers that he'll catch up, he just needs to double check something.

Slipping into my work room once more, he shuts the door behind him. He pulls me from my seat and presses me tightly against him. "Y/N, you have no idea how much I wanted to punch Jackie after he said those things to you. Why can't we tell everybody about us? At least my family? We're going on tour next month and my brothers are going to try to set me up with fans. Are you ashamed of being with me?" I stare into his eyes with a passion. "Oh god, Michael, no. Of course I'm not ashamed of you. If anything you should be ashamed of me. I'm just the band seamstress. Not to mention the fact that if we did come out about our relationship, people would wonder why in the world would you choose to be with a white girl who makes your clothes. Your father would see me as a distraction. If he found out about us, he would fire me and then kill the both of us. I love you too much to let you risk that." He shakes his head, his eyes growing glossy. "I love you too much to keep it a secret. To keep you a secret." I lean my forehead into his chest. "I'm sorry Michael. I didn't see it like that, if you'd like, we can tell your family. Just, just let me be there when you do. Ok?" He nods his head and captures my lips in a gentle kiss. Breaking away, I sit back down. "If you want, you can put some records on and we can have each other as company until I finish here. You'll just have to tell your brothers to go on without you." He nods and exits to tell his brothers goodbye, saying that I need him to stay behind to make sure everything meets his standards. Returning, he puts some old records on, teasing me for my Dolly Parton albums, and we just enjoy the music and the hum of my machine.

"Jackie! Outfit! Tito! Outfit! Marlon! Outfit! Randy! Outfit! Michael! Outfit! Please be careful tonight! We have reached the halfway point in the tour and I am very proud of the condition you are leaving these in! Have a good show tonight! And please, do not rip your shirts open!" I hand out garment bag after garment bag, the boys hurrying to change in their dressing rooms. Janet leans against the wall, her outfit designed and made by yours truly, looking good for a fifteen year old. "When I go on tour, I am definitely bringing you with me." I rolled my eyes and laughed. I place my ticket around my neck and take my place up against the barrier separating the crowd from the boys. The opening refrains of "Can You Feel It?" rang out and the crowds went absolutely wild. It was so fun just to watch them all in their element. I'd catch the boys singing to me or looking at me and I'd make the silliest faces. I accidentally almost made Randy mess up on his bongo solo on "Working Day and Night". "Shake Your Body (Down To The Ground)" finished and slowly the fans filtered out of the arena. When no one was looking, security lifted me over the barrier and back to the corridors in the backstage area.

Michael was on a high after the show like he always was. He was jumping around in the hall when I finally made my way to him. "You had a very good show tonight. I had fun, and I'm pretty sure the girl next to me was having fun too. When you winked her way, I'm pretty sure she found euphoria." He giggled and spun me around. "Goodness, I love you." With that he held me tight against him and kissed me deeply and passionately. I let myself melt into him, letting myself slip into the bliss only he provides. We break apart with the sound of Janet shrieking "What the hell?"

Taglist: @accio-boys

#michael jackson #michael jackson imagine #michael jackson x reader #80s imagines #80's imagine #80's x reader #80's fanfiction

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detectiveidiotboy · 3 years

Text

His Time In The Commonwealth III: Deacon's Story

so as my beloved fanfiction, The Black Widow’s Waltz, comes to an end, i’ve decided that i am going to re-release the backstory chapters as their own stand-alone fic, since they read well as their own story. before that, i thought i might do a fun little thing where i release each of the companions backstories as their own post here on tumblr under the tag #his time in the commonwealth.

it is now time for part three of this little mini series i have. now that we’ve seen what happened to nick, let’s see how good ol’ deacon ended up where he is...

Deacon stood in the center of the burning remains of the Mercer Safehouse, staring at the man who set the place on fire not two hours earlier. The arsonist's back was turned, cropped black hair shining in the red-and-yellow flashes of the house fire. A woman crawled out from the debris - a synth who’d arrived just weeks before. She was shouldering a sobbing agent with cracked, bloody glasses and leg twisted backward. The man raised his rifle and gunned the two women down with an honest-to-god smile on his face.

Nate, you are one fucked up guy, Deacon thought as he stepped over the burning remains of an agent trapped under a beam.

“Deacon? Is that you?” Nate turned, eyes shining against the flames illuminating the light. “I thought I’d run into you sooner or later.”

“Yeah,” Deacon snarked, unstrapping his shotgun from his back, “I’ve been a little hard to pin down lately - Dez was always the one who assigned my ops in my downtime, but she’s been pretty distracted lately. You know, being dead ‘n all.”

“Morbid.” Nate chuckled. “I always did like your sense of humor.”

“I’ve been told I’m one hell of a comedian.”

Deacon pressed the barrel of his shotgun against Nate’s chest. The man stared at him, seeming far more interested than worried about the twelve gage of death aimed at his sternum. Nate was tough shit - but even he couldn’t survive getting all his organs blasted out by a point-blank shotgun round. At least, that was the hope Deacon clung to. “So, you wanna die here? Or is there somewhere else you want me to shoot you?”

“A surprisingly generous offer,” Nate said, lowering the gun with a finger, “but I’m afraid I have to decline. I have more important things to do than help you get some petty revenge.”

“Sorry, not happening,” Deacon cocked the gun, raising the barrel until it rested just beneath Nate’s chin. “Actually, you know what, nah - I’m not sorry at all.”

“I assumed not,” Nate said, raising his hands. “Fine, Deacon.” He said with a sigh. “If this is really how you want things to go, then shoot me - but wouldn’t you rather know why I’m doing what I’m doing?”

“Nope,” Deacon said as he blasted the fucker’s head off his body.

Except, that wasn’t entirely what happened. Nate stumbled back, almost fell over entirely, but despite the scattershot tearing through his throat just seconds before, his head was still stubbornly attached to his body. Nate laughed, slowly rolling his head forward until it was back on top of his shoulders, smiling widely. Deacon’s own vindictive smile dropped as he lowered the gun. “Shit… you really are immortal.” He said.

“That’s right,” Nate said in a sing-song voice. “Immortal and invulnerable. I’m basically the closest thing this world has to a god,” He laughed as he took a step forward, and Deacon took one back. “Now, since your idea was a miserable failure, let’s try mine.” He said, stretching his legs on the tips of his toes and clasping his hands behind his back. “Don’t you want to hear the reason behind my supposed betrayal?”

Deacon answered Nate’s question by bashing the butt of his gun against the psychotic killer’s face. Nate, momentarily stunned, staggered to the side and Deacon was able to retreat back towards the woods that surrounded the safehouse. At the very least he could act as bait to lure Nate away from any possible survivors. It was the least he could do for them, since he was the one who brought their murderer into the fold.

All of this was Deacon’s fault; he’d accepted the risk when he brought Nate on board. Desdemona had told him it was a bad plan - hell, P.A.M had reservations about it. Deacon should have listened to the future-telling robot instead of trusting his own chronically poor judgment. It had just seemed too good to be true - a supposedly immortal killing machine who resented authority and had a major bone to pick with the Institute? It was like the Atom itself had popped down into the Commonwealth and built them a savior out of clay and nuclear ash. Deacon couldn’t have let an opportunity like that go - and really, he’d asked himself, what was the worst that could happen?

Apparently, the worst that could happen was that the Brotherhood of Steel made their little savior an offer he couldn’t refuse. Now Tom, Desdemona, Glory, P.A.M… hell even Cartington ! They were all gone. Deacon hadn’t been at the base at the time of the attack - Nate had seen to that. Told him to head over to Sanctuary for a surprise. Well, surprise! Everyone Deacon loved was dead. He didn’t know - nor did he care - why he was spared; the only thing that mattered now was putting a stop to Nate before even more lives were lost, both synth and human alike.

Deacon dodged and weaved through the trees. He could hear Nate following him not far behind. It wasn’t long before Deacon’s lungs were straining and each breath was like a stab in the chest - god dammit he was a spy , not a runner. His body was not designed for prolonged exercise. Deacon’s heart was beating in his throat by the time he was forced to slow down. He’d put some distance between him and Nate, but it wouldn’t last. Nate never exhausted, Deacon had seen evidence of that. His stamina was endless - must come standard as part of the whole ‘god among men’ package.

Deacon reached into his pocket and pressed down on a button. It was the last stealth boy he had, and it wasn’t entirely full. It gave him only a few seconds to breathe while he tried to figure out his next move. To his right there were woods, to his left… more woods, and in front of him was, as one might guess, a large expanse of woods. Deacon wasn’t nearly as familiar as he needed to be with this part of the Commonwealth, his basic mental map was insufficient for a midnight life-or-death sprint.

He had less than ten seconds left on the stealth boy. Deacon could hear Nate closing in, so he did the only thing he could think of and backed himself up against the bark of an irradiated tree. He pressed his lips together firmly as Nate wove through the clearing, head swinging back and forth like an attack dog. It was as if he was tracking Deacon down by the scent of his fear. Again, considering Nate's otherworldly nature, not entirely out of the realm of possibility.

“I know you’re here,” Nate said, a manic laugh following the words. He drew a silenced 10mm pistol from his jacket pocket, showing it off to the seemingly-empty clearing. “Recognize this, D?” He said. Deacon did - it was Tommy’s gun, Deliverer . The very same handgun that Deacon had gifted Nate on his official entry to the Railroad. “Seems poetic, don’t it? Whispers died hiding in the shadows, and now I’m gonna kill you while you’re curled up with a Stealth Boy in your pocket.”

Deacon lunged for Nate just as the effects of the stealth device wore off. He caught the man off guard, at least, wrapping both arms around him in a bearhug of death and tackling him to the ground. Deacon had no idea how he was going to kill his target if even a point-blank shot to the neck wasn’t enough to do it, but at the very least he was going to make Nate suffer .

Deacon grabbed Nate’s arm and yanked, using his foot to pin down the man’s back and dislocate the appendage with a swift movement. Nate choked on a cry - it was the first time Deacon had even seen the man externally express pain. Maybe it was the first time he’d ever been hurt - good. Deacon slammed the heel of his boot into the back of Nate’s head, aiming for the spine. Nate’s good hand darted up, snatching Deacon by the ankle and pulling him to the ground.

Suddenly, their positions were reversed, and Nate was on top of Deacon, pilling him down with the gun pressed to Deacon’s cheek. The dislocated arm was already back into place, its hand closed around Deacon’s neck and choking him. Deacon clawed at the fingers, trying to pry them off. Nate was unbelievably strong - even with how thin and nimble his fingers appeared they were perfectly capable of crushing Deacon’s windpipe.

“Tsk, how disappointing,” Nate muttered, probably to himself. Deacon snarled as the 10mm dug into his flesh. “I really did hope I would have a chance with you. You have such a pretty face.” Deacon felt the silenced barrel trail down his cheek and press against his left breast, “be a shame to ruin it.”

Six silenced shots rang out. Deacon seized as he felt the bullets slide through him, tearing his heart to ribbons. The delicate organ came to a spasming, sudden stop in his chest, and before Deacon realized what had happened he was dead.

Once the spy had stopped moving, Nate put the gun back into his pocket. Deacon's fists relaxed and fell away from the hand still clutching his throat. Nate's fingers lingered on the bruises he’d put on Deacon’s neck, savoring the feel of indents on the other’s flesh. Nate reached up and gently removed the sunglasses from the dead man’s face, folding them up and putting them in his pocket. “I never did understand how you could see out of these things when it was dark.”

Deacon’s eyes stared back at him, expression still caught between rage, terror, and agony. Nate frowned, reaching over to shut Deacon’s eyes for him. “Pity. You really were cute.” Nate leaned over and pressed a kiss to Deacon’s still warm cheek, then stood to leave.

Seconds after his heartbeat could no longer be detected, the auto-stimpack anklet Deacon was wearing deployed. There was no blood flow to carry the medicine through his system, but through the power of osmosis, defusion, and several other pre-war science words Deacon didn’t understand, the contents of a dozen stimpacks made it to the shredded remains of his heart. Veins reconstructed themselves, weaving together tissue and cells to produce a mass of blood vessels that would just barely manage to function as a pump. Five minutes after the drugs did their best to fix a literal broken heart, the taser went off, sending waves of electricity through the corpse of one Johnathan Deacon and starting up his pitiful excuse for a new heart.

The first breath Deacon took after dying was both the single best, and most painful breath of his entire life. The bright lights and sense of calm that death had brought him were replaced with an agony that the words ‘living hell’ didn’t even begin to touch. He couldn’t even scream, the pain in his chest consuming him so completely that all that was left were small, gasping whimpers as he curled onto his side and clawed at himself.

Every muscle burned as his body worked to repair the damage of going several minutes without breathing along with all the other things that were wrong with him. Nearly half a gallon of blood was misplaced in him, and there were still at least three of the six bullets still somewhere inside him pressed up against his recently revived nerves. Deacon’s vision went black and every muscle in his body was tensed. Part of him wondered how long this would last before he died again because there was no way he could be in this much pain without something being vitally wrong with him. The other, much larger part, trusted his friends’ genius and reminded him to wait the pain out.

“So, you guys want me to wear this thing?” Deacon said, holding up the ankle brace that had been given to him by Tom and Carrington. “Like, on my person?”

“Is something wrong with the design?” Tinker Tom asked, genuinely concerned.

“It’s kind of a fashion disaster,” Deacon said, fidgeting with the thick, untreated leather that made up the strap.

“It is a highly advanced revival device, not a fashion statement.” Dr. Carrington said with a roll of his eyes. “Since when have you cared about your appearance anyways?”

“Hey, my appearance is my life,” Deacon countered. “You should know - you’ve done, like, at least three of my face jobs.”

“Four,” Carrington corrected.

“It’s meant to be worn under your clothes anyways,” Tinker Tom said. “The design was my idea - Carrington’s work here is nothing short of genius, but if we wanted any practical use for this thing with our field agents we needed something easily concealed.”

“Easily concealed, right,” Deacon said as he snapped the brace around his leg. “Unless I want to wear shorts. Man, there goes my summer plans.”

“Would you at least try to take this seriously?” Carrington snapped. “This is just a prototype, but if we can verify that it works it could save the lives of countless agents. Unfortunately, the only way to test it is for one of our agents to become mortally wounded while wearing it.”

“And so you’re giving it to me? Gosh, guys, I’m honored, really.” Deacon placed a hand to his heart. “Voted most likely to die on a mission by his peers.”

“You are the one Dez assigns to the most dangerous operations,” Tinker Tom said with a shrug. “Don’t take it too personally. If anything, it means we want you around the most.”

Deacon couldn’t admit it, but that did make him feel a little warm in the chest area, but he and ‘genuine emotions’ hadn’t seen eye-to-eye in years, so Deacon gave his co-conspirators a wink and a smile and said, “Alright, but don’t expect me to run head-first into danger just to give you guys some data. If this thing actually works like you say it will, I’ll buy the first round of the night when I get back to the land of the living.”

“Hmfph,” Carrington huffed, predictably. Then, less predictably, he smiled and said. “I’ll hold you to that, you know.”

Deacon laughed as he came down from the high of agony that was recovering from a mortal chest wound, the sound pitiful and weak. The worst of the pain wasn't done yet, he could tell, this was just a short reprieve while his body geared up to continue its tantrum. “Carrington, you crazy bastard,” He muttered against the blood-soaked grass. “When I get to hell, remind me to buy you that drink.”

Deacon laughed and sobbed and spasmed until the sun was high in the sky.

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