#ignored this drawing for some hours and came back later lol
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all on the line - Logan Sargeant
I can't believe I am actually finishing a multiple part story right here ahhhh🫣
Hope you enjoyed this story as much as I struggled writing it 🫶🏻
Side note: This is the part I hate the most out of the three parts lol
Part 1, Part 2
Song recs:
The Heart Wants What It Wants - Selena Gomez
Pictures of You - The Last Goodnight (for the part where they're in Spa)
Warnings: crash, idk what else
Logan Sargeant x reader; A crash makes him realize where his priorities lie
The French Grand Prix came by way too fast.
You spent the weeks in-between burying yourself in work and sim racing to take your mind off that night with Logan.
How could he have been so caring and loving and then a few hours later be a completely different person?
Then again you’d basically wanted to flee his room the second you’d woken up.
Maybe you’d sent the wrong signal.
Maybe you should have just stayed in his arms and given in to the comforting feeling he evoked inside of you. But you knew that you couldn’t.
A relationship with another driver would be under constant scrutiny and criticism by the public.
Even though you felt Logan’s gaze on you on multiple occasions while walking through the paddock and giving interviews, you did your best to ignore and avoid him.
Thankfully Dennis had understood pretty fast that Logan was not a fun topic for you to talk about so the Norwegian didn’t bring him up anymore and even shielded you off from Logan whenever you needed to hide from the Carlin driver behind Dennis’ back.
Only at the race start did it get tricky to avoid Logan: you were starting in the same row as him on the grid.
Naturally you were nervous when you walked to your car on the grid, already spotting Logan’s blue race suit in the crowd of mechanics and engineers.
When you reached your car, you turned your back to Logan, hoping he hadn’t noticed you yet.
Slowly you pulled your race suit up all the way, forcing yourself to put your whole focus on the race lying ahead of you.
While waiting for the race to start, you engaged into conversations with your engineer and manager to seem as busy as possible, but your tactic didn’t work for long.
“Y/n!”, he called out and you could hear his steps behind you.
You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the interaction with Logan before you turned around, trying to smile like you weren’t still thinking about his fingers inside of you.
“Hey.”, he smiled at you, and you hated your heart for liking his stupid smile so much.
“Hey.”, you replied, not necessarily wanting to engage in a conversation with him.
“So uh…you nervous?”, he looked at you so innocently… the complete opposite of how he’d stared at you when he’d towered above you.
Get your thoughts straight!
You shook your head slightly, cursing yourself for still thinking of that night.
“Listen…. I can’t do this. Not now, not here, not ever.”, you suddenly burst out, avoiding looking into his eyes.
“What do you mean?”, he furrowed his brows.
“This!”, you gestured between the two of you, a trace of desperation in your voice.
“You’ve made it pretty clear that this was a one time thing and I’m totally okay with that, but…I can’t pretend like that night meant nothing to me either. So… I think it’s best if we put some distance between us for a while.”, you poured out your heart, being careful not to draw the attention of the cameras to you and Logan.
“But y/n, I-“
“Logan! We need you here, mate!”, someone called behind him, interrupting him.
He checked over his shoulder to see that his race engineer was calling him.
“Look, I know we had fun together, but I can forget about this if you can.”, you offered, shrugging at his helpless look.
He opened his mouth to say something, but then his shoulders slumped in defeat.
“Okay, whatever..”, he turned around and walked away without looking at you again.
What the hell was that?
Was Logan seriously pissed at you for not wanting to get your feelings hurt?
You rolled your eyes: You definitely had to forget about him. Quick!
When you sat in your car, waiting to push down on the throttle, you allowed yourself a short glance over to where Logan sat in the car next to you.
His gaze was set on the lights ahead of you, completely focussed on the race now.
You closed your eyes, gathering your thoughts.
If he could move on like that, you could, too.
“I’ll see you when I overtake you..”, you whispered to yourself, not wanting to break Logan’s and your tradition.
As soon as the lights turned off, adrenaline rushed through your body, heightening your senses.
You pushed into the first corner, keeping an eye out for your opponents behind and in front of you, and managed to slip in front of Logan.
“Pourchaire point 4 seconds in front, keep pushing. Pace is good.”, you got the information from your race engineer and banned Logan from your mind, but that didn’t last for long, because soon enough the blue Carlin car was back in your mirrors.
“Sargeant gaining: gap now point 2 seconds, go defend.”
You didn’t have to be told twice: There was no way in hell you would let him pass.
So you defended your position, shutting the door on him more than once in the first few laps. Somehow you managed to stay ahead of him on the DRS straight, but soon enough he was attacking again: this time more aggressive, leaving less space between the two of your cars.
It annoyed you to say the least.
When he finally got past you, you cursed into the radio.
“Keep your head down, still a long way to go.”, your race engineer instructed, directing your focus on Doohan, who now crept up behind you.
A few laps later you got the chance to overtake Logan again, because you’d managed your tyres better than Logan had and he was losing pace.
You knew the move would be risky, going around on the outside in a particularly steep corner, but you only had one more lap of the race left to overtake.
Your heart beat fast when you pulled out behind him and pushed down on the throttle, watching him through your mirrors.
It almost worked perfectly: you went for the overtake and were about to cheer about gaining the position.
And that’s when it happened: Logan steered towards the outside line, wanting to shut the door on you.
But he’d miscalculated.
Your car was already too far in front, so your inner rear tyre got catapulted over his front tyre.
You couldn’t fathom the situation as you felt the rear end of the car lift off the ground.
Time seemed to have stopped.
It appeared to you as if the accident was happening in slow-motion: you saw that Logan somehow managed to keep his car on the track, then you realized you had to let go of your steering wheel to prevent any hand injuries.
And suddenly everything happened within the blink of an eye: time resumed.
Your car landed back down on the ground, sliding sideways over the track and directly towards a barrier.
With fear in your eyes, you prayed you’d be okay when you saw the barrier coming closer at a sickening speed.
You closed your eyes, bracing yourself for whatever was about to come.
Then came the impact: Your head got flung to the left and right, hitting your chassis harshly.
When you opened your eyes again, all you could see was dust and a piece of the broken barrier you’d crashed into on top of your halo.
You groaned, trying to comprehend what had happened.
Your head felt like a hoard of elephants had trampled all over it.
“Y/n? Are you ok?”, only then did you realize someone was speaking to you.
“Please confirm, are you ok?”, the worried voice repeated.
It was your race engineer.
“Yeah….I’m ok. Hit.…my head…”, you replied, breathing heavily.
Then suddenly the barrier was lifted off of your halo, letting in some sunlight into your cockpit again.
“Y/n!”, someone screamed at you, the voice sounded familiar.
“Y/n! Are you okay? Please say something! Y/n!”, panic filled the voice.
Slowly you managed to tilt your head slightly upwards to look at the person standing in front of your car.
“Logan…”, you groaned lowly, your voice weak.
He reached down into your cockpit to free you of your seatbelts.
“Y/n!”, he shouted again, but it sounded blurry, like he was far, far away.
Your eyes fell closed again from the exhaustion.
“Hurry! She needs help!”, Logan turned his head away from you to scream at someone else.
“Help her!”, he exclaimed, fear and desperation in his voice now.
Moments later there were multiple voices around you, all talking nervously, some of them speaking to you, but you couldn’t comprehend what they were saying.
All you could do was try and keep your eyes open, willing yourself to stay strong now.
Then suddenly hands reached into the car to help you climb out.
Still feeling a bit wobbly, you were thankful for the help.
You needed to get out of this car and show your team that you were okay.
When your feet touched the ground, it was the weirdest feeling: like it was your first time standing on solid ground.
The voices around you were still talking frantically, you could hear people clapping somewhere in the distance and the commentator saying something in French.
An arm wrapped around your waist firmly and your arm was slung around someone’s shoulder to support you as you walked to the ambulance that was already waiting for you.
When you turned to look at the person, you frowned.
“Logan?”
You could still see the fear in his eyes.
“Everything’s going to be okay. I promise.”, he whispered, slowly guiding you across the track.
“The race..”, your voice sounded dry and hoarse.
“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you are okay. I’m so sorry, y/n.”
Later, when everyone knew that you would be okay and that you were on the way to the hospital for some checkups, Logan still had to give his interview for F2, which he wasn’t particularly looking forward to.
Because he knew what their questions were going to be about.
But he didn’t want to relive the crash.
Not now, not ever again.
It had been one of the worst experiences of his life: the fear of losing you, those moments when he saw you sitting in your car, not moving.
“Logan, hi. What a day it’s been. The crash with y/n was a close one, but thankfully both of you could walk away without any serious injuries.”
Logan only nodded, his muscles tensing at your name falling from the interviewer’s mouth.
“Tell us, Logan, you could have continued the race since your car didn’t take any damage, but you chose to help y/n instead. What was going through your mind at that time?”
Logan’s jaw clenched and he took a deep breath to come off as composed as possible.
“To be honest, the second I saw her crash into the barrier I didn’t really care about my race anymore. In moments like these where someone’s in danger, scoring points becomes irrelevant. I’m just glad she’s okay and I’m so sorry to my team and to Prema of course.”, he answered, thankful for the media training he’d had.
“As we’ve seen in the past few races of the season, you and y/n have gotten along particularly well… do you think this crash will have any effects on the relationship the two of you have built?”
What a shitty question.
Logan wanted to throw his microphone at the interviewer’s head.
Somehow he managed to refrain from it, instead gripping the microphone tighter.
“Accidents can happen in motorsport, it’s a dangerous sport. But I know this crash was my fault and of course I take full responsibility for what happened. I can only hope y/n can forgive me.”
“Thank you, Logan. We wish y/n a speedy recovery and hope to see her in the paddock again come the next race.”
Logan put on a fake smile, like he’d actually enjoyed the interview, but all he wanted to do was throw up.
He felt sick to his stomach when he returned to the Carlin garage.
The crash was his fault. Solely his fault.
And the worst part about it was that he could have continued the race.
He could have kept racing without even the slightest injury or damage.
But you were in the hospital because of his mistake, his fuck-up.
---
“There she is, y/n y/l/n, finally returning for her first race after the horrific crash at Paul Ricard! Y/n, how are you feeling today? Excited to get back into the car?”, the interviewer was standing in front of you on the race track, next to where your car was being set up for the upcoming race in Spa.
Well, how did you feel?
Nervous, hella anxious, but also more than excited to feel the adrenaline rush of racing again.
However, you legs still felt shaky whenever you thought of the crash.
You smiled into the camera and tried to come across as confident as possible.
“I’m feeling more than ready to get back into the fight for points. I’ve used this past month to focus on myself entirely, on getting fitter each day to come back stronger than before. So now I’m really looking forward to racing again.”, even though you knew half of what you’d just said was a lie, you still said it with so much conviction that everyone would have to believe you.
“Thank you very much, good luck out there!”, the reporter left you alone again and you felt yourself relaxing as the cameras moved further away from you.
“Hey.”, someone suddenly tapped your shoulder from behind.
Immediately you tensed back up again.
“Logan….hi..”, you didn’t know what to say.
He hadn’t talked to you since the crash in France and you’d been way too busy with recovering to spare him a thought. However, the countless apology cards he’d sent you didn’t go unnoticed either.
He looked at you with such an intensity that your stomach filled with butterflies instantly.
“Can we talk?”, he checked around himself to make sure no camera was pointed at the two of you.
Your gaze went to the track to avoid him.
“Logan…now is really not the time, I-“
“When is it then? You never talk to me anymore!”, he cut you off almost immediately, desperate for answers.
If the two of you weren’t public figures he probably would have raised his voice by now, but years of media training helped him keep his voice low.
“I just…..”, you looked up again and tried to defend yourself, but the words got caught in your throat. Fuck.
If you’d thought you were over him, you were just proven wrong.
You still wanted him.
“Talk to me, y/n, please…”, Logan almost whispered, his eyes pleading you to finally open up.
You checked again if any cameras were lurking.
“It hurt… you know?”, you got lost in his eyes once again.
Logan pulled his eyebrows together in a frown.
“It hurt: You asking me to forget that… that night.. ever happened.”, you elaborated and watched his eyes go wide.
Then he let his head fall back, facepalming himself.
“I’m such a fucking idiot.”, he groaned, before he looked back down at you.
“Y/n….I…What I said back then was complete bullshit.”
You tilted your head at him in confusion.
“Yeah… I doubt that. You were pretty clear on the pretending-this-never-happened part.”, you closed your eyes at the painful memory, but only until his hand came under your chin to tilt it upwards.
“Y/n, listen to me when I tell you that that was the dumbest thing I’ve ever said in my whole life.”
You gulped, not knowing what to say.
Was this heading in the direction you hoped it would?
“I…I know you said you can forget about that night, but I….can’t.”, he trailed off, his eyes involuntarily wandering to your lips.
Both of you were now breathing heavy.
“I only said that because I didn’t want to get hurt.”, you confessed, whispering because you suddenly realized how close his face was to yours.
A voice in the back of your head warned you to check for cameras again, but all you could focus on was the way Logan looked at you.
Like he wanted you just as desperately as you wanted him.
“I want to kiss you so badly right now..”, he whispered back, swallowing as he realized what he’d just said.
You scanned his face: His lips, his dimples, his eyes, his nose, his brows.
This is what you wanted: Him.
So you decided not to think too much about it and finally take action.
Without saying another word your hands pulled him down to connect your lips, taking him by surprise.
It only took him a quick second before he sunk into the kiss though.
He let go of your chin to wrap his arms around your waist tightly while his tongue softly entered your mouth.
You held onto him even tighter if possible and pressed yourself against his chest.
This was it, you were so sure of it: the feeling of letting yourself fall in love.
When you tugged on his hair slightly he groaned and you could feel him smiling against your lips.
It was only until you heard loud cheering noises around you that you realized Logan and you weren’t the only two people on this planet.
As soon as the two of you broke up the kiss, a dozen cameras were swarming you.
“Did everybody see that or am I hallucinating? Y/n Y/l/n and Logan Sargeant have just kissed on the track. I repeat: they have kissed on track, in front of everyone!”, the reporter almost shouted into her microphone, making sure absolutely everyone knew what had just happened.
You could only laugh in relief as Logan confidently grinned and wrapped an arm around you.
One look to the stands told you you weren’t the only one who was happy about the kiss.
Fans were standing up everywhere and cheering you on.
“Well….looks like we’ve just gone public.. on our first day of dating…”, you joked and Logan smirked, squeezing your waist.
He bent down to whisper into your ear.
“Doesn’t mean I haven’t been in love with you for months now..”, he enjoyed watching your face go red within seconds.
Once again, you completely forgot about the cameras around you.
“Seriously, y/n. I’m so sorry for everything I put you through only because I was too stupid to realize how much you meant to me..”, he added in a low voice so that nobody else could hear him but you.
“I’m sorry, too, Logan. For saying all those things even though they weren’t true.”, you replied in the same soft voice, causing a smile to creep onto his face.
“I’ll forgive you if you forgive me, deal?”
You began smiling again.
“Deal.”
#logan sargeant imagine#logan sargeant#formula 1#formula 2#formula 2 imagine#f1 smut#f1 fiction#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#carlin racing#williams racing#prema racing#dennis hauger#f1 fluff#f1 angst#f1 2022
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Can I request the reader and Jack Russell oneshot with the pair of them being shy around one another but they have feelings for the other. But when the reader is danger with another werewolf, Jack comes to save her and feelings are professed?!?!
Protector
paring: Jack Russell x fem!reader
a/n: Hilliary! girl I am so excited about this request it is perfect and I hope you love it! and Happy (belated) Halloween to those who celebrate! 🎃 (I meant to post this yesterday but I fell asleep oops lol and I was busy today so I'm sorry this was so late, but I hope you like it!!) I might go back in later and edit it some more!
warnings: fluff, some blood description, unedited! please ignore any mistakes!
Walking in the woods was an excellent way to clear your head. You often had done this when things got too stressful. The cool autumn air when you inhaled made your lunges burn but it felt oddly good.
The dead leaves crunched against your boots as you trekked uphill and the wind blew softly through your hair. After the day you've had a walk was what you needed desperately. Nature always soothed you, growing up you would find escape in being outdoors.
For a while now you've had a crush on your closest friend Jack, but you were too scared to admit your feelings. You thought sometimes he would catch you staring at him for longer than normal or the sublet flirting you failed to do, but he never seemed to notice. You thought you were being so obvious but maybe Jack was just oblivious. He only saw you as a friend and you were forced to believe that was where you stood. Even if another guy came along in your life to draw you away from him, nobody would ever change the way you felt regarding Jack.
after a few hours of mindlessly walking, you hadn't realized the sun had begun to go down, you were too lost in your own thoughts to notice. Now you were really lost. You had left your phone at home stupidly thinking you weren't going to get very far. No one had no idea where you were and anything could happen to you out here. You looked up to the full moon glowing down on you and started to sense a panic rising in your chest. You were hopelessly lost and you cursed yourself for being so distracted.
Your body was beginning to shiver under all your clothes but you kept on pushing in the opposite direction. How you could be so reckless to wander off alone you didn't know, everything was just so confusing for you right now.
A sudden rustling sound from the bushes makes you jump out of your skin. Abruptly a creature crawls out and looms its way toward you with its teeth bared, growling, and snarling like It wanted to harm you for no reason. Its fur stood up as it slowly approached you as you backed away. Fear washed over you as the beast got closer and closer until suddenly, another beast jumps in front of you starting down the other one. Its back is hunched over and its talons curl as it snarls at the other in a warning tone. You backed up into a tree as the two animals stared each other down. You watched in horror as they suddenly lurched and attacked one another, ripping at skin and fur savagely.
The one that stood in front of you ripped its claws into the other's back and it made a howling sound in pain. The other animal broke free of the other grip and cowered away into the forest. The beast just stood there heaving its chest up and down.
You tried to make an escape for it, but the beast snaps its head at you growling, and pounces toward you. You felt its claws dig into your wrists as you tried your very best to stay still. A single tear drips from the corner of your eye, as pain seeps through your arms and you let out a whimper. The beast lowers itself down to be face to face with you, its nose grazing yours as it sniffs you wildly. You stare into the creature's eyes and you see its pupils dilate. Your whole body shakes as the beast huffs then as if It acted another sent caught its attention. It leaped off of you and sprinted in another direction.
Shaken and confused more than ever, you got up from the stern ground. Attempting to settle your nerves as you pushed your way through the forest to find your way back home. Whatever that creature was, it almost seemed like it recognized you. Its eyes seemed vaguely familiar.
You shook your thoughts away and continued to walk clutching your jacket around your body. You still couldn't believe what happened, you had never had such an encounter before. You just hoped you could find your way back home quickly before those creatures found you again.
-
Morning came quicker than you thought. You had been lost all night and were exhausted beyond belief and wanted nothing more than to crawl into your soft bed and sleep for days.
The smell of smoke filled your nose, so you decided to follow it knowing there had to be someone nearby. You came to a camp in a clearing of trees and saw a fire going. Maybe whoever was camping out here could help you get back into town. As you got closer you saw a man sitting near the fire trying to keep warm as he rubbed his hands up and down his arms.
Wait, his features made you stop in your tracks. You'd recognize that messy brown-turning gray hair anywhere.
"Jack?" you call.
Jack's head turned in your direction at the sound of your voice reaching him.
"Y/N?" he frowns.
"what are you doing out here?"
"It's a long story,"
He motioned for you to come to sit next to him and you obeyed. Jack removed the blanket from off his shoulders and draped it over yours as soon as you sat down on the dewy grass.
"Something crazy happened last night," you shook your head wishing you could just forget it.
Jack had perked up at this, he remembered last night. Sometimes flashes of when he's in wolf form come back to him when he's human, and he recalled how he could smell your scent, it lingered with him for the rest of the time and now he knew why. You were there last night when he attacked that other wolf.
"What happened?"
"You wouldn't believe me,"
"Try me,"
You explained the two wolfs that attacked each other last night and how one of them held you down on the ground and then ran away.
"huh, that is weird,"
Jack had turned away from you and rubbed his hands together for warmth and attempted to work up his courage to tell you.
"Do you remember anything else?" he asks, turning back to you.
You shake your head. "although," you start. "there was something about the wolf that seemed familiar.."
Both your eyes connect and something clicks in your brain.
"Jack..?" you whisper.
Then you realize his eyes are the same as the beast that pounced on you last night. You honestly couldn't believe that Jack was a werewolf.
"Yes, it was me," he says, he read your expression clearly.
"why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I was afraid of what you'd think of me,"
That made you surprised. Your best friend was worried about what you'd think of him if you knew his truth. It threw you for a loop that he didn't trust you enough.
"Oh," is all you say. Jack catches the sadness in your voice and frowns.
"What's wrong?" he quizzed.
"Do you not trust me?"
The tone in your voice sounded broken no, hurt, and Jack felt devastated. He did trust you with his whole heart, but this was different. He'd have people he thought he had trusted in the past with this secret, only to be betrayed and left after the discovery of what he really was.
Jack scooted closer to you and took your hand in his, caressing your knuckles with his thumb. He looked into your eyes as he spoke.
"I do trust you mi vida, of course, I do," he proclaimed. "but I just didn't know how to tell you,"
You squeeze his hand.
"I love you too much to lose you,"
"You love me?" You gasp.
He nods.
"I love you too," you confess.
Jack looks at you in surprise. You never thought you would say those words to each other.
"You do?"
You nod and hum as you lean forward to press a kiss to his cheek, which causes Jack's face to heat up at the contact.
"I've loved you for as long as I can remember," he reveals.
That makes your heart skip and now you're the one with warm cheeks. Jack takes your other hand but when he does it turns your wrist in a certain way that makes you wince. Oh, right you had some wounds from last night. Jack asks you what's wrong and you just pull up your sleeve to show him.
“Is that from me?” he examins the cuts on your arms that distantly look like the size of his nails when hes in wolf form.
“yeah but i’m okay, really” you assured.
“were going home now,”
Jack pulls you up from your spot and douses the fire out immediately.
“why?” you ask as he hurrys you through the woods.
“so I can fix you up,”
“Im alright I promise, nothing a little band-aids and ointment cant fix,” you chuckle.
The whole way back home Jack leads you by the arm and fusses over you the next couple days treating your wounds. You thought it was sweet he was so protective of you. But then you thought about the other night how in his wolf form he was protecting you, even if he didn’t know it he still was protecting you.
-
@redheadspark @a-lumos-in-the-nox @skywalkersapologist @wacky-nerdchick @countlessimagines @nicolewithanee @starfirette @pandalandalopalis @michel-9 @creedtheconquer @user-jongdae @steve-harringtons-slut @charlie-heatons-whxre @emiemiemiii @countlessimagines
#jack russell x reader#jack russell x fem!reader#jack russell#werewolf by night#werewolf by night fanfiction#mcu#mcu fanfiction#marvel fanfiction#fanfiction#x reader#werewolf x reader#spooky season fic#halloween#halloween fic#marvel#werewolf
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Someone asked: How would yandere Batboys(Separate and including Bruce) react to reader drawing silly doodles on their face while sleeping with a pen or something? And maybe even putting makeup and stuff lol
Your man as a hero tends to get exhausted often so it’s not a strange sight to see him sleep on the couch or take a short nap on the bed. But you still want to spend time with him and his sleeping schedule doesn’t let you do that. So you decide to busy yourself with something that would turn into something even more fun…
Dick had fallen asleep on the kitchen table for the 3rd time in the month already and you were tired of watching him sleep, but you knew if you woke him up he wouldn’t sleep much after even if he went to bed as soon as possible. You didn’t want to wake him up but you were bored, your phone was charging and you couldn’t watch TV because of the noises it made. You had to be creative and seeing your makeup bag on the counter made the lamp of ideas pop out of your head.
Dick woke up with a pain in his neck since he had rested his head at an uncomfortable angle. You were sitting next to him with a wide grin on your face “Hi!…” dick said with a sleepy voice as he yawned. You nodded your head now pressing your lips together “Did I fall asleep here again?” You nodded your head faster, now your face seemed strange, like you were in pain, nodding your head violently “Um…you okay?” You gave him a quick “mhm” as he narrowed his eyes at you “Why does my face feel weird?” He rubbed his face and felt something sticky on it. Seeing his eyes widen at the sight of the face foundation you exploded. You laughed for a solid half an hour before you could catch your breath, but the ick just sat there processing what was going on. And when it sunk in his head he did something you didn’t expect “You up for some couple pictures?” And with your agreement, you would take a ton of pictures with dick posing lewdly in them with the messy makeup on.
Jason was sleeping soundly on his bed when you came back home, all excited to tell him about your day, but seeing him sleeping like that was a blow to your expectations, he had promised to wake up before you were back but he was still sleeping like there was no tomorrow. You were mad but you didn’t know how to punish him for that until your new set of markers sparkled as you set your eyes upon them. It was going to be fun. You thought with a mischievous grin.
Jason was up for an hour now and he was still laying in bed, processing his dreams “I think I shouldn’t have eaten those chicken nuggets before sleeping” he mumbled as he left his comfortable bed, walked to the bathroom, heard the TV he could tell you were home and he winced at remembering his promise, okay maybe he had to make it up to you later, for now, he had to wash his sleep away, but his time at the shower was going to turn out as he had expected. “(Y/NNNNNNN!)” Jason’s angry yell made you giggle devilishly as you changed the channels, he must have been really angry at seeing the silly doodles of a unicorn and Easter eggs on his face, but he had learned his lesson about ignoring his promises in the most cringy way!
Tim had fallen asleep during the lunch break, again, and watching him drool with his mouth open was no fun. It was silly to wait for your boyfriend’s nap to end so you could have your lunch before you went back to studying, you wanted to slam the whole lunch tray on his head. But you just groaned and mumbled curses under your breath as an idea popped in your head. “You’ll pay for making me wait, dude, you’ll pay for it!” You mumbled with a smirk as you drew on his face with your pen, remembering what he had said about loving your doodles.
You would ignore Tim’s angry babbling as you gave him a towel, you both had missed your classes since he had forced you to help him wash all of those doodles of hearts and silly texts off of his face “Come oooon!” You nagged “Shut it! It’s all your fault!” You rolled your eyes before bursting at seeing Tim’s blue face. Let’s say you wouldn’t get to kiss him for a while.
After a bad argument, you had decided to pay Damian back by wasting his precious ink on his face. You would move the brush on his face delicately to not wake him up, thickening his brows and painting beard and mustache on his skin. He had just come back from a mission and had fallen asleep in mere seconds. But you were still mad so you gave him the look he always hated.
“(Y/N) if you stop I’ll make it quick and painless!” Damian hissed as he ran after you in the halls with the inky brush in his hand, but you just laughed at that and kept running away “This is what you get for yelling at me baby!” But Damian only growled at your reply running faster. You would end up painted black by Damian and you two would laugh about it whenever you recall the memory.
Laying beside Bruce you sighed, watching as the handsome man’s resting face twitch a little as he dreamed. You tried to not poke his flesh too much as you moved the marker on his face, creating his best quotes as batman in the silliest ways on his face and chest, trying to stop your giggles with soft sighs, trying to not ruin the prank you had planned for your husband.
“Seriously?” Bruce put his hands on his hips as he watched himself in the mirror “I am the night on my forehead?” He posed in front of the mirror making you laugh harder “It looks dramatic…I like it! I look like those gangsters that tattoo everything on their body…it’s easy to remove marker right?” He asked as he looked at you and you shook your head at that making his eyes widen for a good second, but his hand moved to wipe the marks away easily and he sighed before jumping on the bed taking you in his arms “Now you mess with me?” He would say as he tickles you.
#blue answers#yandere batfamily#yandere#yandere alfred pennyworth#yandere batman#yandere damian wayne#yandere dick grayson#yandere jason todd#yandere tim drake#yandere x reader#yandere dc#yandere robin#yandere red robin#yandere red hood#yandere nightwing
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Well I should have written my Faramir post two nights ago when it was fresh in my head -- I have forgotten what the point would be, but I’m cobbling it together here (and it got... excessively long so read more), as it relates to Faramir and his priorities (particularly about Boromir and how anxious he is about how Boromir died-- not just physically but spiritually):
To set the stage-- Faramir meets Frodo and is super Suspicious because they’re in a Weird Place in the land of the Enemy, and, frankly, it’s pretty fair of Faramir lol. They have a brief conversation in which Frodo tells them of their mission and name-drops Boromir and Aragorn, but it is (obviously) Boromir that catches Faramir’s attention-- then Faramir goes to fight w/ the orcs and comes back and interrogates Frodo-- Sam’s POV says it looks like the Trial of a Prisoner.
Faramir is interested in all that has happened and starts probing about Isildur’s Bane(”I wish then to learn from you more of it; for what concerns Boromir concerns me”)-- but he pivots a bit to talking about Boromir-- he doesn’t initialyl reveal his relation, just that Boromir “son of Denethor was High Warden of the White Tower, and our Captain General: sorely do we miss him.” -- he doesn’t reveal the relation until he also reveals Boromir’s death.
he uses Boromir’s death a bit as a smokescreen for Isildur’s Bane-- “I broke off our speech together....because we were drawing near to matters that were better not debated openly before many men. It was for that reason that I turned rather to the matter of my brother and let be Isildur’s Bane.”
But he uses this also to continue to seek closure-- he infers that Frodo did not part from Boromir on friendly terms and that Isildur’s Bane came between them. He also says “If it were a thing that gave advantage in battle, I can well believe that Boromir, the proud and fearless, often rash, ever anxious for the victory of Minas Tirith (and his own glory therein) might desire such a thing and be allured by it.”
So Faramir is getting close to the truth of what happened and as he does he laments -- “Alas that ever he went on that errand! I should have been chose by my father and the elders...” and again later, Faramir says “maybe it would have been better had Boromir fallen there with Mithrandir and not gone on to the fate that waited above the falls of Rauros”-- he still doesn’t know about the Ring or Boromir trying to take it, but he is clearly concerned about Boromir’s temptations-- his trial so it were- Faramir is clearly seeking not just answers on Isildur’s Bane but also.... closure on Boromir -- he also says:
Alas! it is a crooked fate that seals your lips who saw him last, and holds from me that which I long to know: what was in his heart and thought in his latest hours. Whether he erred or no, of this I am sure: He died well, achieving some good thing. HIs face was more beautiful even than in life”
Eventually,, Sam tells him “You’ve been warm on the scent all along” and then (accidentally) reveals that Boromir coveted the ring. And Faramir’s response-- “Alas for Boromir! It was too sore a trial!” He laments again-- “How you have increased my sorrow, you two strange wanderers from a far country, bearing the peril of Men!”
I think this is both about the Ring’s existence and... the state of Boromir’s soul. Faramir is anxious that his brother died in a state of grace-- and he gets no closure since Frodo left while Boromir was still succumbed to temptation. But he must have some comfort that Boromir redeemed himself -- that he died wellthough he knows not how and has no closure and all Faramir knows is that before he died he was tempted and failed, falling into a Grave Sin
It reminds me of Tolkien himself, of letters he wrote to his son Michael expressing concern over his children falling away from the Church and of a man with many a Protestant friend (including a good one married to a divorcee) -- ]
I am an ignorant man, but also a lonely one. And I take the opportunity of a talk, which I am sure I should now never take by word of mouth. But, of course, I live in anxiety concerning my children: who in this harder crueller and more mocking world into which I have survived must suffer more assaults than I have. But I am one who came up out of Egypt, and pray God none of my seed shall return thither. I witnessed (half-comprehending) the heroic sufferings and early death in extreme poverty of my mother who brought me into the Church; and received the astonishing charity of Francis Morgan.3 But I fell in love with the Blessed Sacrament from the beginning – and by the mercy of God never have fallen out again: but alas! I indeed did not live up to it. I brought you all up ill and talked to you too little.
and
I find it very hard and bitter, when my children stray away [from the Church].
I think he captures very much the true and genuine distress when someone we love dies and we do not know the state of their Soul-- when they are tempted and far from good. How well we know it in this age, how well Tolkien must have known it, even before his later years-- and how well, we see Faramir knows it. Poor Faramir-- to know all of Boromir’s temptation and not yet of his repentance -- I haven’t gotten to my re-read of Return of the King yet, but his father’s death will not be much consolation either
#lotr#tolkien#j.r.r. tolkien#jrr tolkien#boromir#faramir#i could edit this again but i gotta go#lord of the rings
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Doing the Writer Bingo thing, considering myself tagged by @theartofblossoming because they said so
I got bingo twice!
Gonna tag @new-eyes-extra-colors @bokatan and @nukanaptime if yall haven't already done it - blank template is under the cut along with me talking about my answers and writing - feel free to ignore it if you want lol.
I don't actually have any of my fics public rn because I hid all of my old ones (they were HP and thats blech now), but I had... 13 fics, including a completed multichapter amongst a bunch of oneshots and abandoned starters, lol.
So I have had a Fanfiction.net account, but I never posted fic on there. I just read fic there. I also read fic on a bunch of other old sites that don't exist anymore and haven't for many years, but didn't have profiles on them. I don't even remember their names, I know some were primarily non-english sites that just happened to have some of their fics translated - some of the best fics honestly. I've only ever posted on Ao3 because it wasn't until I was basically done with highschool that I felt confident enough to write publicly.
Never had a wattpad phase. Never even read fics on it and I honestly click away if fic links lead there. I just don't like how it's set up.
My most popular oneshots were my two hard E rated smut fics, which rivaled by multi-chapter fic for a while but got overtaken by it while I wasn't looking, hah.
Some of the earliest writing I ever did was roleplay. I joined a Warrior Cats roleplay guild on the Neopets forum as a wee child. I didn't even know what Warriors was when I joined, I just wanted to play with cats. It introduced me to the series though, which became a big part of my life with reading and art. The roleplaying was fun for a bit but... well there were issues but I guess we were all kids. Didn't help that they were all American so I had to do weird hours to join events. I don't do a lot of roleplay overall, I've dipped my toes in again here and there but never anything dedicated. It's rather intimidating honestly.
I've never beta read anything or had a beta. I work entirely alone and prefer it that way. I just do it all myself and quadruple check everything and then freak out after posting and check again and again to pick up any small spelling mistakes that might've slipped past me.
Always been a nerd for researching. Sometimes I'll be researching something by my own whimsey and that'll become part of a fic after the fact, lol. I like when authors sprinkle in little bits of knowledge, and some of my favourite fics are ones that have me highlighting terms to look them up further.
I never actually had an outline for any of my old fics. I would just start typing up whatever came to mind at the time and post it when it felt ready. It's a miracle I finished a multichapter fic at all honestly. But I'd also be manic in my writing, being that I'd blast out one or even multiple chapters a day for a while and then randomly stop and not look at any of my fics for months or even years. I did begin to start fics with some outlines and collected thoughts later on, and I'm outlining so very much with my newer fic and not writing in a manic state anymore thanks to nearly a decade spent working on my mental health. I'm writing from a better place now, but I often look back at my old works and wonder if I haven't lost something over time due to the large break I took in creating, which is something that goes for my drawing too. Overall though I have a lot more hope for my future works being more planned/thought out and far superior to anything I've put out before - though I didn't get many complains on my old stuff, just a lot of very confused watchers who got overstuffed and then left in the lurch. Sorry.
The "anxiously waits for feedback" thing I think is something pretty much everyone feels when they put any work out there. I really get it with the immediate posting and having to double and triple check that I didn't misspell anything, or get something wrong, and that what I'm trying to say comes out clearly - as if people will point it out and laugh at me or something when I know they won't / haven't even had time to read it yet even though it's public. I've found it's best to just distance myself after posting and doing my doublecheck though, like just enjoying a game or an episode of something and trying to forget about it for a bit and avoid checking it too frequently. Like meditating, but with a distraction.
I have commissioned art for fics at least twice - but neither of the fics actually made it to the point were the art could be used. Oopsy. Was still fun getting the art.
So many unfinished and unpublished fics. I could probably complete that Danse/Butch smut oneshot I was doing back at new years...
"Editing and formatting is hell", I mean... I've mentioned my tendency to quadruple-billion-times check things twice now. This makes three.
Ideas in the middle of the night are the worst. I can't type shit out on my phone, it takes too long and I get frustrated (I'm also sleeping next to my partner and he'd question wtf I'm doing with a light on), and even if I try the ideas are already escaping like very agile moths. My condolence is that ideas that come when I'm half-asleep probably actually aren't that good anyway and just seem so to my sleep-addled self.
I don't need tea to write, but it definitely helps. That or an iced mocha. ... it's totally the effect of caffeine and sugar on the ADHD... I'll be bouncing up and down while I sit there but at least my fingers will be moving over the keys.
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Unfortunately Yours
Summary: When you and Bucky successfully infiltrate a HYDRA auction, you’re told to stay another day due to max capacity on the jet. But how are you going to survive a night alone with this insufferable Super Soldier? Especially considering the miniscule size of the room and the obvious dilemma presented; who gets the bed?
Warning: S M U T , the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written, language, spit kink, daddy kink, ptsd symptoms, slight voyeurism, slight exhibitionism, hate-s e x, rough, more like enemies-to-lovers kind of thing, gagging, m!receiving, f!receiving, lots of receiving lol, 18+, M
Word Count: 10.6K (Whhhyyyyy)
Your body burned with exhaustion and the sheer weight of your extremities felt enough to drag you to the floor and mirror a coma with the length of your hibernation. You no longer had the minimal strength required to pick up your feet properly which resulted in the sound of shuffling to fill the small, and by small you meant miniscule, room you’d been assigned to.
Well, you and Bucky had been assigned to.
You’d both played your parts well enough over the course of the last few hours. You’d sauntered into the ran-shacked looking bar with Bucky’s arm tossed lazily over your shoulder, his distaste for the assignment evident on his face, but he’d cleared it away the second his foot crossed the threshold. He pulled you in tighter to his body and raised his chin into the air, emitting the energy of a man not to be trifled with. You’d portrayed your role as a damsel just as, if not more, convincing as Barnes’ opposite. Your shoulders hunched over and your steps were small and quivering, the wig on your head a tool used to curtain the hair in your face.
You were the lamb to this White Wolf.
Word had traveled through the dark and twisted grapevine that a certain showing of sorts took place tonight and a high-ranking target was rumored to be amongst its audience. You and Barnes were on the first flight to Germany within minutes.
Bucky had pulled you through the crowd moving along to the thundering music in the background and halted at the edge of the bar. His grip on your shoulder tightened once he’d caught the man’s attention and you winced, his fingers digging a little too deep for your liking.
The bartender scanned you over and took in your frame, making you feel smaller than you had already displayed yourself to be. It took him a while to conclude but when he took in Bucky’s domineering gaze, a look as if to say Deny me, I dare you, he nodded once and wrote something down on a napkin, sliding it over to Bucky.
Scum. All of them.
You nearly blew your cover trying to throw Bucky a look but you refrained from the hellfire clawing its way out of you. You had to be perfectly in control, emotions and beliefs aside. You were a damsel and you had to make certain they believed that. You knew they were watching; they always were.
“Relax,” Bucky hissed, pulling you under his arm and bringing his lips to your ear.
“When you pretend you’re the one being put up for auction, then you can tell me to relax,” you muttered, never looking up from the ground.
“I have been.” When you paused your movement, he pulled away to scan the room, “Nothing’s gonna happen to you. I promise.” He led you backstage and turned the corner to a dimly lit hallway, barren of any decoration in sharp contrast to every other section of the building, “Besides, once they realize how insufferable you are, they’ll be begging me to take you back,”
He opened an iron door and pushed you into the room, sending you tumbling down onto the carpet. He tsked, stepping over you and not looking back after shutting the door behind himself. You counted thirteen pairs of feet and judging by the way some of them were turned towards you, they had to be watching. You observed your hands for a second, counting slowly until you figured you’d stalled long enough and sent your trembling gaze to the exit. Bucky let out a low chuckle and clasped his hand around your upper arm, launching you back onto your feet and twisting your body to face him.
Oh, darling, German fluently escaped his tongue and you nearly rolled your eyes at the condescending tone settled in his words, You know better than that, don’t you?
His hold tightened and you winced, holding back the whimper in your throat. If you saw any hint of a bruise forming on your arm, you would give him hell later . . . and possibly even if you didn’t.
You bit your tongue and let him lead you towards a leather chair before he pulled you swiftly down onto his lap where his hand remained on your thigh, brushing the inside softly. Had you not been so annoyed, you’d have been humiliated at all the stares devouring the scene unfolding before them.
Good girl, he drawled and pressed your back flat up against his chest where he could put you on display.
You knew you should’ve been annoyed, or at least settled so into your role as his temporary whore-for-sale that the sensation coming alive between your thighs shouldn’t have made an appearance. But sometimes, the way Bucky brought his voice down real low and cooed an insult or jest your way just had an affect that your body would not deny. It kept you awake a lot.
Instead, you swallowed hard and let yourself be splayed against him. You ignored the scent of sandalwood in his cologne.
Your body trembled from the cold breeze floating around in the room and you shifted in Bucky’s lap to block everyone’s sight from the way your chest reacted to the change in temperature.
Don’t be shy, he murmured and removed your arms from your breasts, letting the thin, practically see-through fabric show you to the world.
“Buc-” You started, your panic creeping through the cracks at the cheshire sneers sent your way, but at the first sign of your discomfort, he retracted his hands and twisted you around gently, throwing your legs over the side of the chair and spreading them but forcing your upper half to face him. Effectively, cutting your chest off from their line of sight.
You trembled out a sigh and he grabbed your face tightly, drawing your eyes to his. He examined you, his hardened gaze shouting words he couldn’t currently say. But you understood. He could be a jerk, but he wasn’t a bad man.
Your body instinctively leaned into him for warmth as another breeze engulfed you, resulting in a shiver that made its way up your spine. “Are they still looking?” you inquired and he gripped your neck with a ferocity that made you squirm in his lap. Fuck.
He pulled your ear to his lips and licked the helix. You whimpered. “No,” he whispered, running his thumb along your jawline, “But if you don’t quit fucking squirming you’re gonna have a problem, Doll,”
You opened your mouth in question when you felt a sudden twitch on your backside and you swallowed. Hard. He never broke eye contact with you, instead choosing to raise a brow in mocking. Your chest heaved up and down and how you could feel his breath grazing on your cheek almost had you rubbing your legs together for some form of desperate friction. No, you had to keep yourself composed, keep the act going. But he’d seen it. All of it.
You nod your head and slowed your breathing down until he released his grip around your throat and turned his attention towards the dim stage. You leaned back into him and followed suit, making sure to keep your attention downcast and appear disheveled.
“There,” Bucky whispered after a few minutes and you lifted your head only to find the man you had come all this way for walking straight towards you.
Like a moth to a flame.
“How much?” The older man inquired, his grotesque gaze settled on your spread legs.
Bucky looked up at the balding man as if this was the first time he’d noticed his presence, “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?”
The man lifted his brow, or what would’ve been, and smiled wickedly, “I’ll give you double your price if you give her to me now,” he offered, his eyes slithering up to the apex of your thighs and this time you didn’t have to fake the shiver running up your spine.
A small smirk formed on Bucky’s face and he waved his hand dismissively at him, “Get in line,”
The old man sneered but Bucky was right, most everyone had their attention fixated on what was happening currently and it was apparent there was, indeed, a line.
Bucky rested his gloved hand on your upper thigh and gripped tight, whether to refrain from hitting the guy or just to touch you, he wasn’t sure but he couldn’t keep you away when the man said, “I’ll give you four times the asking price but I want her now,”
Bucky’s grip on your thigh tightened and you squeaked at the pain, jumping slightly in his lap. “How about I give her to you for free for ten minutes and you tell me if you can handle her,”
You jerked your head towards Bucky and furrowed your brows. Free? Dick. You nearly scoffed.
The man gripped onto your calf and you shifted to kick his hand away when Bucky’s own shot out and and ripped his off of you, “Don’t touch my stuff,” he spit and the man let out a yell but that only spurred Bucky on and he tightened his fist, “Until terms are agreed upon, she remains mine to do with as I please. Understood?”
The man nodded hastily and Bucky threw you off his lap when he stood up. “Anyone else?” Bucky shouted to the room, daring others to test his limits when it came to you. After a few moments of silence Bucky scoffed, “I didn’t fucking think so,”
Bucky’s grip on the man remained and he stared down at the hunched figure, “Now, you,” he addressed and the room remained silent. This was allowed here.
Normally, merchandise couldn’t be touched until it was purchased. No buying before the auction, no discussing what you’re offering, no negotiating but most importantly don’t try to steal from anyone. These are criminals and that being said, they handle things amongst themselves. They know the rules and the risks they take breaking them.
So, when Bucky drags the poor bastard away, you follow right behind him. Not a protest to be heard. Bucky throws open the door we entered through and finds the nearest room before chucking the HYDRA agent inside and locking the door behind you.
The room was brightly lit, with all four walls a dull cream color and dark brown couches strewn casually about. There’s no real order to this place. All cement corners and LED bulbs. Pure business.
“Let ‘em know,” Bucky orders and you turn around to argue only to find the man pulling a gun out of his jacket pocket.
You jerk suddenly and kick Bucky square in the stomach, launching him towards one of the couches just as a shot rings out. You blanch at the sound, the noise filling your head and drowning everything else out. You hear yelling but you can’t make out the words, only the panic intermingled within them. Your hand reaches out around you and you grip the small button lined into your thin clothing, pressing it four times how you’d been instructed.
Everything moved slowly and people began filing into the room. How did they get here so fast? No. It wasn’t possible, they were a quarter mile down the road, there was no way they were your backup.
Hands began flying in the air and you were picked up and dropped multiple times, each time landing harder than the last. You tried to blink back the spinning but the blows landing on your face and torso made it all the worse.
Instinctively, you threw your hands up to protect your face and fought to find some footing to help. Bucky was good but he wasn’t a God, he would need help. When the first blow met your forearms you reached out to grasp the hand and used your other to drive your fist right into the person’s nose. The bone crunched under your blow.
You took a hit, then another when you managed to analyze the enemy’s fight pattern and waited until he left himself open before driving your knee into his rib cage. He bent over in pain and you grabbed him by the hair, hearing another crack when you shoved your elbow upwards against his nose.
You heard a shout and whipped your head over to see Bucky on his back, a looming figure with a gun aimed straight towards him. You galvanized towards them and threw yourself in the air, using your weight to kick him off of Bucky when another shot rang out.
Bucky shot up and crushed the gun with his metal arm. You scoured the room for the familiar HYDRA agent but found him nowhere. You shot out of the room, knocking into an opposing wall as you turned the corner and ducked when the sound of a bullet whizzed past you.
This is not going good. You had lost your target and rummaged through room after room until you’d become lost. Fuck. Where the hell did he run off to? You winced after breaking out into a sprint but pressed on, not allowing yourself to slow down. There was no way you were going to fail this mission, especially after coming so close to success.
Sweat trailed down your face and your muscles screamed at you to halt, their exhaustion beginning to wear you down. Your breathing grew rapid and your vision blurred and just as you went to lean on a wall to rest, your shoulder exploded out in pain and you collapsed with a cry.
“Dirty whore,” the HYDRA man seethed, a cane raised over his head. He brought it down and you spun to the side, feeling the air breeze past your ear.
Your hand latched onto the cane and you shoved it into his gut, pushing him away. SHIELD wanted this guy alive, so alive they would receive him. That didn’t mean he had to come in one piece though.
You tore the walker out of his hand just as he tumbled onto his ass. You stood up, grunting along the way and hovered over his body, fear sprawled along his features.
“You can either stay still or get beat with your own cane, it’s your choice,” you offered, aching to bring the walker down onto his face. “Please test me. Please.” You begged.
His gaze shifted between you and the weapon and he brought his trembling hands up in defeat. He must’ve been an agent of some Intelligence branch because his fighting abilities were evidently subpar at best.
You sighed, sad to see the opportunity go but brought the cane down none the less. “That’s unfortunate,”
You turned your attention to the sound of running coming around the corner and moved to drag and hide your captive in a nearby closet only to roll your eyes when Bucky came ‘round. You tossed the cane back and forth between your hands and smiled proudly towards the agent on the floor.
“Look who I caught,” you toyed and were met with a grunt.
“Only because you let him get away,” he retorted, pulling the balding man up to his feet.
Everything began to slow and the hellfire you’d kept under mounds of ice had finally melted through its freezing cage. “What?”
He turned his back towards you and trudged the hesitant man behind him towards the exit.
“I said,” you hollered, not caring how the halls carried your echo, “What?”
“I heard what you said,” he called back to you, not bothering to turn around.
And there you were left, frozen and dumbfounded for five solid minutes before you could pull yourself together enough to stomp your way back towards the rendezvous point. You remained hazy for the most part while debriefing. You tried to recount everything but the way your anger engulfed you in its flame obscured your memory so you kept it short.
It was quickly brought up that SHIELD captured more HYDRA agents than expected and were gonna be at max capacity so you and Bucky had to stay at a base a few miles down the road. You grumbled in compliance but Bucky didn’t respond, not even a godforsaken grunt.
What SHIELD had failed to mention though, was that this bunker was clearly meant for one. It barely counted as a room. There was a small bathroom in the corner just big enough for a shower and toilet. No sink. And a small counter with just enough space for a stove, microwave and radio. If you were to lay down vertically or horizontally you’d nearly be touching wall each way. Not to mention the singular bed.
And that’s how you got to where you were now. Miniscule room. Exhausted body. Drained mind. Patience long gone.
You huffed and dropped your bag in front of the entrance before walking to the bathroom and turning to slam the door closed. You turned the faucet on and ripped the wig off, discarding your clothes in a pile before stepping into the shower. The warm water was nice and welcoming but your body already felt aflame so you twisted the knob and held your breath when the cold stream trickled down your body. It was difficult to breathe at first, but your body soon adjusted to the temperature and you began wiping the muck off your skin with the bar of soap supplied. But that’s all the was supplied. Clearly, this place was meant to be a quick pit stop.
You sat on the hard floor as the water streamed onto your body. You could nearly fall asleep to its rhythm; It was only when your head hit the wall that you realized you were so you begrudgingly stood up and shut off the water. You grabbed the only towel in the bathroom and pat yourself dry, noticing just then that you left your clothes outside.
You let out a long sigh and twisted open the doorknob to find Bucky toying with the radio on the counter; not even purposefully, just looking for something to do while he waited.
You opened your mouth to ask him to hand you your bag but after what he said to you earlier you’d sooner eat hot coals than ask him to do anything for you. You stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped neatly around your chest and you bent over to open your bag. The shuffling on the radio stopped.
“You could’ve at least left me some warm water,” he grumbled and you rolled your eyes.
You searched in your bag for the fresh clothes residing there only to turn around when you found them and have the bathroom door shut in your face.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” You shouted, pounding your fist against the door.
You could hear the water running and you groaned, pounding harder. The door opened for a split second and you were hit in the face with the clothes you’d left inside only for it to instantly be slammed shut again.
You punched the door with all the frustration built up over the past few hours and felt the wood crack with your force. Why did this man have to be incredibly baffling? You were not nearly paid enough to deal with such an unbearable partner. He would have you bald from stress before you knew it.
You spent the next few minutes grumbling to yourself after you changed and scribbled your frustration onto a small notebook you took with you everywhere. It was only when you heard the water shut off did you remember something. You still had the only towel. A villainous smirk tugged at your lips and you placed the folded towel on the edge of the bed, away from the door.
Then you heard the creak. “I will walk out naked if you don’t give me the towel,” Bucky threatened.
You shrugged despite him not being able to see you from your position on the bed, “I’ll just laugh at your dick,”
“You weren’t laughing earlier,” he shot back.
Oh. So he did remember. Good. You thought he’d gotten amnesia within the past few hours, maybe he was just too ashamed to mention it.
“Too disgusted to insult. Plus, I was playing a character,”
“Fine,” he responded and quickly came into view, haughtily sauntering over to your side and you shouted.
“Dear God!” You held the towel up to block your sight of his barren body. It was disgusting. He was all wet, hair dripping onto his muscled torso, water gleaming off his taut skin, 5 o’clock shadow drenched and straight out of a wet dream. Jesus.
“Prude,” he commented, snatching the towel from your grasp and wrapping it around himself.
“Respectable,” you corrected, crossing your arms and shoving him away. “You get the floor,”
He lifted his duffle off the ground and rummaged through it. “Then I get the blanket,”
“You get fuck all,” you stated, flipping off the lamp beside you and snuggling into the warm cot.
When the shuffling stopped and the bathroom light was shut off, you shut your eyes and let the wear of the day grab at you, lulling you into the beginning of slumber. That is, until the blanket was hauled from around you, damn near throwing you onto the floor. You shouted out and caught yourself last minute.
“Barnes!” You yelled, steadying yourself and reaching over the edge to grab the blanket back. Your hand fisted at the faux fur and you pulled with all your might to no avail.
He swatted you away as though you were a pesky fly and reached over to turn the light of the lamp on. You glowered at him and stood, wrapping the blanket around your arm and pulling upwards. Your arm strained to its capacity but the man on the floor didn’t budge. Only turned his back to you and shut his eyes. You reached over yourself and flipped the switch of the lamp, once again immersing yourself in the comforting darkness.
Bucky stiffened and opened his eyes then turned and froze you in your spot with his stare. He reached around and lit the lamp, slowly retracting his arm and daring you to turn it off again. So you did.
He yanked the blanket from your grasp and threw you back onto the bed, bringing light into the room. “Light stays on,” he growled.
“No! You’ve had your goddamn way since you stepped foot into this room. Light goes off and I get the blanket!” You shouted, not concerned about anyone else hearing considering the room was soundproof.
“No. You get the bed so I get the blanket. Tell me how that doesn’t make sense,” he countered.
You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting that it did, in fact, make sense. The floor here was wooden and clearly uncomfortable, plus he hadn’t even argued about the bed situation.
You retreated, “Fine, light still goes off,”
“No,”
“Yes,”
Silence fell between the two of you but you weren’t budging. Barnes had faced plenty of monsters, he could handle the dark.
“I need the noise to fall asleep,” he admitted and it was then you could hear the slight hum the bulb emitted.
You didn’t speak for a while but reared back and pulled out your phone, “What do you want to listen to?” You scrolled through a few sounds you had stored on your phone, “We’ve got: nature sounds, frequencies, guided meditations, etc. You name it, but I’m not sleeping with this forsaken light on,”
Bucky studied you, his expression changing a mile a minute but the one of indifference conquered, “Rain,”
You nodded once and selected the audio, placing the phone face up on the nightstand and turning the light off for the last time. Hopefully. You hunkered down into the thin mattress and reached down, grasping at the thick blanket. When you pulled, there was some give. He’d let you get just enough needed to cover your body if you laid at the very edge and your hand hovered in the air when you laid your arm over the side.
Minutes flew by with your eyes shut and the exhaustion slithered over your body but your mind ran wild with the events from earlier. You tried not to get angry or sad or . . . bothered. Your breathing deepened when you began to succumb to your body’s fatigue and you drifted inch by inch into the welcoming void lulling your name.
You didn’t hear when he shifted, only managed to register the faint tracing of his fingertips on your hand before finally giving out.
You weren’t sure what time it was when you opened your eyes for the first time that night. This regularly happened. You’d wake up multiple times during the night to shift positions or throw off the sheets, no matter how insignificant the desire, your body always found a way to wake you for it.
You opened your eyes slowly to a hazy vision and blinked at the sitting figure on the floor, “Bucky?” You croaked, bringing a hand up to wipe at your face, “What time is it?”
“It’s almost one, go back to sleep,”
“What are you doing?” You persisted, ignoring his demand and sitting up slowly, “Why aren’t you sleeping?”
“Couldn’t,”
A heartbeat. Then another. And another. He didn’t care to elaborate.
“Do you want the bed?” You offered, stretching yourself out and already placing yourself down on the floor, “It’s too hot up there, anyway,”
His attention turned to you for the first time but you’d already began closing your eyes, not really having the energy to argue with him. You could hear shuffling from his spot and the ground disappeared below you, strong hands grasping your body and lifting you up to place you gently back onto the cot.
“I prefer the floor,” he insisted, wrapping the blanket around you, “Besides, you’re a horrendous liar,”
You didn’t hold back the singular chuckle, your haze still enveloping you. “Then why aren’t you sleeping?”
He sat at the foot of the bed, his hand hovering over your leg in hesitation, “It’s complicated.” He dropped his hand to his side.
“Isn’t the rain helping?” you mumbled, your sight now adjusting to the dark.
“Yes,”
“Then what?”
“I just . . . don’t want to wake you,”
“Well, I’m already awake if that makes you feel better,” you jeered, a small smile forming on your lips.
“It doesn’t,”
“Nothing does,” you retorted, the inevitable annoyance you always felt when conversing with him already made its way up into your tone.
He scoffed and stood from the bed, placing himself in the same spot on the floor with his head leaned up against the wall and his arm resting on his perched knee.
“Oh, so now you can’t handle a little attitude,” your tone came out incredulous, “You didn’t have any issues earlier when you blamed me for that guy’s escape. Which, he didn’t even get to do, might I add,”
“I was projecting,” he replied, gaze still focused on the door opposite to him.
You blinked, “Are you so tired that you’re actually admitting to being a dick?”
“I know I can be a dick, but you threw yourself straight into the line of fire twice today. So I don’t really give a shit if I was mean to you,”
“I only did that because you almost got shot twice today. Don’t take your anger out on me for your incompetence. Just say ‘thank you’ and move on already,”
“Incompetence?” His head jerked in your direction. “What was incompetent was that you couldn’t keep yourself composed,”
You sat up. “What in the hell are you talking about? My behavior is what got our target to basically give himself up to us! It was me that trapped him, not you!” His composure tensed and you crossed your arms over your chest, “You’re just mad your dick got hard so if anything you’re the one who couldn’t keep their compos-” His hand was wrapped around your throat and you were pinned to the mattress before you could finish your sentence.
“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed at you, his face mere inches from yours.
“Why?” You spoke hoarsely around his tightening grip, “Does the Big Bad Wolf not like that he was turned on? Who’s the prude now?”
“Turned on?” He spat, his free hand resting by your head to cage you in, “You think what you did earlier turned me on?”
You grasped at the hand around your throat and pried slightly to speak, “Fight me or fuck me, Barnes. But stop lying to yourself, it’s getting old,”
The room seemed to freeze over and Bucky paused. His hesitation was enough to elicit the fire from earlier and your legs squirmed a little underneath him. God, you hoped he chose the latter.
Then his lips crashed against yours.
You squeaked at the sudden onslaught but threw your arms around his shoulders and pulled him in tighter against you. He dropped when you intertwined your legs, his full weight pressing against you deliciously. You ground up against him, your core aching from the previous hours and the small friction elicited a moan from the both of you.
“So impatient,” he scolded, bringing the hand from around your throat down to your hips and pressing you into the bed. “What a whore,”
His breath danced along your cheek and you mewled at his words. Gods, he was going to be the death of you. Or the beginning.
You breathed in deeply, his sandalwood scent intoxicating you in a manner that alcohol never could. When you drank, you were just drunk. But when you took a sip from the tall glass that was Bucky, it brought you to life. Your body sang melodies wherever you were plastered against each other and your skin burned with need.
Touch me, your body screamed, touch me.
“Fuck off,” you groaned and Bucky jerked your head to the side, exposing your neck for him to scavenge.
The goosebumps that danced across your skin when he ran his warm tongue up from the curve of your neck to the bottom of your ear brought an arrogant smirk onto Bucky’s face. You ran your fingers through his hair and tugged when he reached a particularly sensitive spot that had your legs shaking when he kissed it sloppily.
Your mouth hung open in silent pleasure and your breaths were short and rapid, your body betraying all forms of control you previously had over yourself. The hand that wasn’t residing in his hair trailed down his muscled arm and you gripped at the brawn this man possessed. His skin reminisced lightly of silk despite the rough texture of his hands.
The same hands that now made its way into your hair and tugged at the strands at the base of your neck, jolting your chin higher into the air. Your grip tightened around his biceps and the strength they emitted sent a pool rushing to your core. You continued hunting until you found the hem of his black, cotton shirt and you made your way up his taut abdomen. You let out a sigh and he jumped lightly at the sensation of your cool fingertips across his scorching skin. It was a nice contrast for him.
You gripped at the shirt and hastily ripped the cotton upward. Bucky broke away from his descent down to your chest to let you remove the fabric and you’d suddenly wished you’d turned the lights on first. He mimicked your action and tossed your shirt in a deserted corner of the room to potentially be abandoned. You gasped when the cold air of the room grazed upon the perked mounds of your breasts.
His lips returned to their spot on the dip of your neck and his tongue slithered down in between your breasts. Your breath hitched when his wet muscle made its way up to the apex of your chest. His right hand mirrored his tongue and swirled around your nipple, his teeth pulling eagerly every so often and you hissed at the delectable pain. Your eyes devoured the scene unfolding on your chest and you reached over to flick the light on, desperate for a clearer image.
Bucky halted and his metal arm reached over to switch the light back off but you swatted his hand away and he backed up lightly, his irritation evident on his face.
“I want to watch,” you grumbled and shifted up to bring your lips back up to his. He let you. He pushed back lightly with his own lips and leaned in sync with your movements. He parted his mouth slightly and you followed suit, letting him lead his way into yours with the same muscle he’d just had flicking across your breasts.
The light went off.
You pushed him away and shot towards the switch but metal met your wrist firmly enough to keep you in place. “Bucky.” You wrestled against his hold and turned your full attention back to the figure hovering above, “I want to see you,”
Despite the darkness, you noticed his mouth twitch but his grip on your wrist remained solid. You sprawled back onto the bed and wrapped your free hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down onto you, pressing his surprisingly soft lips onto yours. You broke apart, his lips a hair’s breadth away from your own. “I want to see you,”
He didn’t move, only scanned your face over a few times and you brought him back down into a kiss. This one wasn’t like before. This one was warm, soft, patient. A ballet compared to its previous mosh pit. He danced along with you, an admission hidden somewhere in his tenderness.
You hadn’t realized you’d been freed of his hold until you were wrapping that arm over his shoulder and the sound of a light humming began.
“Fucker,” you jeered and the previous gentleness dissipated.
“Shut up,” he ordered, pinning you back onto the bed and resumed his ministration on your breasts.
The moan slipped past your lips at the sight and your chest heaved upwards, desperate for more stimulation. You licked your lips at how his mouth encased your nipple, his tongue flicking against the perked skin and you dropped your head back, shutting your eyes. You centered all of your attention anywhere that his bare skin touched your body and rubbed your aching clit against his v-line.
Your chest was pressed against the mattress before you could register what happened and the hard smack that met your ass evoked a yelp. Bucky pressed fully against your backside and he ground his dick down into your ass. He groaned at the sensation and you raised your ass onto him. You yelped again when Bucky ripped your leggings down and smacked the exposed skin on your ass.
“Try something like that again and I’ll gag you around my cock ‘til you’re crying,” he growled, “Understood?”
You nodded, wide-eyed and a mewling mess from the threatening promise of this God.
“Good girl,” he cooed, rubbing at the raw skin. “Now stay still for Daddy,”
Bucky’s hand lingered on your reddening ass and the mattress dipped when he shifted to your side. He traced gentle circles onto your backside and pressed his lips on your shoulder blade, the butterfly kisses making their way down towards your spine and then lower. Your breathing grew uneven from the sheer amount of restraint you displayed. Your grip on the edge of the bed tightened when his tongue dragged from the point where your thigh and ass met all the way up to the bottom of your spine.
“Fuck,” You shuddered, white-knuckling the blanket beneath you.
Your skin blazed when you were met with another harsh slap. You mewled at the sensation, loving the fire that spread across your flesh and relaxed when his metal hand cooled the area.
Then his teeth bit into the cooling flesh and you jerked away despite yourself. Bucky tsked lowly and you chuckled at the hint of fear sprouting in your chest; you did not want to see whatever sinister expression resided on his face.
A strong hand gripped the roots of your hair and hauled you up. You followed his direction and knelt onto the ground between Bucky’s sprawled out legs, settling in your new position.
“Oh, Doll,” he chastised, “you were so close,”
“That shouldn’t count,” you retorted while Bucky pulled the blanket off the bed and lifted you up with his metal arm, shoving the barrier between your knees and the hard ground.
“But it does.” His hands dove into his underwear and sprung his cock out onto your lips. “Now get to work,”
Your eyes widened at the sight before you and you had to physically hold back from gulping. You were ashamed to admit your mouth watered in anticipation. You lifted your hands from his sculpted thighs and wrapped them around his length, enveloping just the tip past your parted lips. Bucky sighed and twitched in your mouth.
You welcomed him in fully, or as much as you could anyway, and got straight to work, not bothering to act abashed at your desire. Your tongue swirled around his tip and you leaned into him until he hit the back of your mouth but you continued on, gagging around him when he’d gotten inside your throat. Bucky groaned when your throat tightened around him and he threw his head back, using his flesh hand to guide you up and down his shaft, showing you what he liked and didn’t.
“Fuck, Doll,” he groaned, “Just how I imagined your mouth would feel,”
You pulled off him to comment when he shoved you all the way down to the hilt and you threw your hands up onto his thighs to hold yourself back. He used his metal arm to hold himself up and thrusted up into your salivating mouth desperately. He continuously hit the back of your throat and thick saliva coated his cock. Just as he promised, tears prickled at the corners of your eyes and he didn’t stop until your cheeks were drenched in the liquid.
You let your jaw hang open, your tongue no longer swiveling around meticulous spots that you knew would make his legs buckle. No, you let him have the reigns. Let him fuck your mouth ‘til your throat grew bruised and jaw ached with fatigue. You committed his cries of pleasure to memory, the sounds euphoric to your ears.
He lifted his head and stared down at you with half-closed eyes. He was in heaven and you knew it. He watched you, how the tears trailed down, how your hands gripped at his thighs, how you stuck out your tongue just as you’d made it to the base of his cock to lick his balls in the most intoxicating way. Fuck. You were the intoxicating one. You brought out this side of him. This carnal desire that became him until he’d had to step out of the room just to compose himself. And he didn’t like being out of control. That’s why he always kept you at an arm’s distance.
But now, watching as you sat between him with your mouth agape like the good girl that you were for him, he knew he’d never deny himself this pleasure again. Especially since you were so fucking good at it.
He groaned, pulling you off his cock and grabbed tightly at your cheeks, nearly pinching your mouth together. “Tongue out.” He growled, waiting for your compliance.
Your jaw ached with exhaustion but you managed to stick out the wet muscle as he pulled you closer into him and watched when he parted his lips above you, letting the saliva trail down from his mouth into yours.
“Swallow,” he ordered.
But it was already done, and you left your mouth hanging open for more.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Bucky grumbled, putting his face right up against yours and feeding you once again; this time with a sloppy kiss that coated both your mouths in saliva.
He brought you up from the floor and tossed you onto the bed before settling between your legs. The excitement in your eyes grew and he indulged in every minute of it. Bucky’s hand trailed down from your lower abdomen right above your pubic bone and pressed his palm into your neglected clit. The cry you let out was the unholiest thing he’d ever heard.
He slid his finger under the waistband of your underwear and flitted his gaze back up to your eyes, “Can I?”
You nodded eagerly, dumbfounded that he would even ask and fought the temptation to grab your phone from the nightstand and record everything that was about to unfold.
At the first nod, Bucky slid your underwear down your legs and made a show of bringing the material up to his face. Your own went red hot and you hid behind your hands, poking through every millisecond to shamefully watch. He threw the panties into his open duffel and you squirmed in anticipation.
“Remember the rules?” Bucky asked, brow lifted and already descending to your inner thigh.
You nodded again.
“I need to hear it, Doll,” he mumbled, kissing the inner part of your thigh, each placement closer and closer to where you needed him most.
“Yes,” you whimpered out, “I remember the rules,”
Bucky wanted to dive right in, he really did, but the way you sprawled yourself out so vulnerable for him, it incited a new pace that he wanted to follow. So, he did. He looked at you for a few moments, watched how the anticipation danced in your eyes, how your legs shook in wait and how you were already so goddamn wet for him.
“This all for me?” he teased, mesmerized at your desire for him.
You dropped a hand down to your side, near where his hands were wrapped around your thighs to keep you in place - and against his face. He cocked his head to the side, waiting for your answer.
You nodded sheepishly and when he lifted an eyebrow in mock confusion you said, “You. Just you,”
Like music to his ears. Just him. You weren’t for anyone else. He thought he felt his heart palpitate.
He lowered himself down to your core and kissed your lip, drawing a desperate plea from you. You couldn’t wait anymore, couldn’t deal with the teasing. You were wet enough, needy enough, ready enough to take him, all of him. You’d been ready damn near the moment you first laid eyes on his arrogant smirk.
“Buck - please,” you cried, drawling out the final word.
The first kiss placed upon your soaked cunt erupted a sigh of relief and you laid back on the pillow, your eyes closed and mind gone with the sensation of those sloppy kisses blessing your needs. He flattened his tongue on your lips and licked upwards, stopping when your hips twitched into his mouth.
“Sorry!” You apologized, fighting the desire to grind into his wet muscle. He’d just gotten started and you certainly didn’t want it to end so soon.
He lifted his gaze up to you and you bit into your fist at the view, using the extremity to hold back your moans. He flicked his attention down again and repeated his motion, lapping at your fluids ‘til his beard was soaked in it. He shook his head into your cunt and his nose rubbed along your clit. The mewling that left your mouth urged him on and when you felt his muscle prodding at your entrance you threw your head back.
“Please, Bucky.” You begged, bringing a hand up to tease your nipple.
He prodded some more, his tongue gliding up from your clit and back down to your entrance, poking through enough to frustrate you. He wanted you to break for him. To lose all composure and control and just let him. He wanted you to submit to him but it wasn’t just that, it was more that he wanted to destroy you for any future experience you may have without him. He wanted you to come back to him, to need him, to beg for him and leave you with the understanding that nothing - no one - could compare to him. He wanted you. To himself.
So, when he could no longer refrain and had to use his metal arm to hold your hips down from squirming beneath him, he slipped two thick, rough fingers into your begging cunt. And the sound you emitted caused that carnal instinct to claw at the barriers caging it in.
Your hand shot down, tangling itself into his hair and pushing him harder against you. He allowed it. Your thighs held him in place, crushing him with your soft skin and he groaned at the warmth you gave off. You pulled your hand away from your mouth and grabbed at his metal one resting on your pubic bone, pulling it up to your chest and wrapping his fingers on the sensitive bud for him to tease. He slowly retracted from your chest and brought it back down onto your hips and you huffed in annoyance. You looked down at Bucky but his eyes were shut, completely engrossed in the feast before him. You bucked when his fingers glazed across that sensitive spot inside your velvety walls.
“There!” You cried, your fist tightening in his hair when the all-too-familiar wave of ecstasy began to pool together, waiting for its release.
Bucky complied, dragging the pads of his fingers up against that spot over and over again. Your legs caged him in tighter as his tongue swirled over the hyper-sensitive bundle of nerves and you cried out at the way your body tensed.
“Fuck,” you cried, your hands desperately grasping onto Bucky’s metal wrist and tugging at the roots of his hair. Bucky’s groan of pleasure was what tipped you over the edge.
You gasped when the pool building released, your body shaking with euphoria and the flood crashed down onto you. And apparently, onto Bucky as well. He pulled his mouth away but continued rubbing at your clit when warm liquid squirted onto his face and his expression of surprise mirrored your own.
When Bucky looked up at you, your face burned with embarrassment and you threw your head back, using your hand to cover your countenance. Not to mention the sight of him with your juices all over his mouth was one of the hottest things you’d ever witnessed.
Bucky chuckled at your sheepish apology and removed your hand from your face, bringing his soaked mouth up to yours and having you taste yourself. You devoured each other, your arms wrapped tightly around the other, pulling so fiercely at the innate desire to become one in shared pleasure. He could feel his pride swell at your hidden confession. You’d never squirted before and he was lucky enough to be the one to give you that experience for the first time.
You clawed at him, divulging in the warmth his body radiated and intoxicating yourself in everything that was Bucky. You couldn’t get enough of it, of him. It was nearly too much.
His hand trailed up to your gaping mouth and he inserted his fingers, “Clean them,” he ordered.
Your hand gripped his wrist and pulled his fingers deeper into your mouth, never breaking eye contact with him, loving the way he ate up everything he was seeing. You noticed the way he swallowed.
He retracted his hand and wrapped it gently behind your head so you were resting on him. He brought his full weight down onto your body and a warmth emanated in your chest when he brought his lips up against your forehead, each kiss closer and closer to your lips until they met their destination. When you parted your mouth against his, it wasn’t merely an action of carnal desire, it was like you were exchanging life forces. Merging and meeting in a manner that had your body exploding and crying out for more of the faint familiarity. Like seeing an old friend for the first time in years.
Bucky looked down between your bodies at where you were about to connect before staring back up at you, taking you in as if he would never have this opportunity again. His thumb brushed your cheek and came to a rest on your bottom lip. “Ready?”
You chuckled, “Fuck me,”
He shoved inside in one clean motion and a breath of pleasure slid past both of your lips.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his hand tightening slightly around your neck and he pulled out slowly then shot back inside and you moaned.
You were still so sensitive from your previous climax that every brush against your clit sent you into a whirlwind of pleasure, the sensations shooting through every nerve in your body.
“Bucky,” you whined when his pace quickened and the sheer force of his thrusts drove you deeper into euphoria.
He filled you just right, his girth and length impressive and you wondered why you hadn’t tried to screw him earlier. He slid past your tight walls, each thrust causing the room to echo with the sounds of skin slapping and moans of ecstasy.
He kept his actions controlled, not wanting to build up to something so intense just for it to fall short and end fast. No. Despite how good you felt wrapped around his aching and swollen cock, despite how warm and welcoming you were, how you spread yourself out for him to consume, he had to leash himself. This was going to be just as good for you as it was for him.
He kissed you one last time before gripping the back of your knees and bringing your thighs up to your chest, a shout of praise falling off your lips. He was drunk on the sight of his cock going in and out of your cunt and he threw his head back with a groan.
“What a fucking pretty pussy,” he breathed out and you whimpered, biting your lip at the welcome profanities.
At this angle, he was fucking against your g-spot and using his pubic bone to rub against your clit and watching the thin layer of sweat sheen off his skin was all too much to keep yourself put together. His eyebrows scrunched together and you caught him taking in your form, watching how your pleasure displayed itself on your face for him to bear witness to. Only him.
He growled at the intrusion of thoughts that came to him. He pictured someone else in his position, someone else witnessing you so vulnerable and open to them, someone else fucking you and making you beg for them. It disgusted him. He brought his torso down and latched his teeth to your neck, biting down hard enough to have you tearing up.
“Mine,” he growled into your ear and lulled his head forward when you tightened around him.
A sinister smirk came to his face and he licked the shell of your ear, your breathy moans feeding him, “You like that?” He asked, pistoling further into your cunt and you shouted at the increase of pace, “You like when I tell you who you belong to?”
Your mouth hung agape and the one arm wrapped around his shoulder pulled him closer to you, your desperation for his warmth taking control. “Fuck . . . off,” you hissed between breaths.
He pulled out and yanked you up by your hair, twisting you around and pressing your torso into the wall but keeping your ass propped up for him to admire. You hissed at the pain when a sharp smack met your ass and your hands gripped at the wall for any way to ground yourself and prevent from becoming putty in his hands.
Another hard smack met your ass and you lurched forward to get away from the sting. Bucky kept your head pinned to the cement, his hand holding your cheek from scraping the wall but applying a pressure that had your tongue lolling out of your mouth.
You moaned at the intrusion in your pussy and he plummeted in and out, a mix of your grunts and groans bouncing around the room. His pace constantly changed. One second it was fast, the next it was slow but filling, going so far as to hit your cervix a few times and leave you a crying mess under his hold. Your shoulder scraped along the wall and you fought to push away only to have your chest slammed harder against the cement.
You brought a hand out, reaching behind yourself and grasping for Bucky’s hip, pushing him deeper into you when he slowed. Your nails dug into his flesh and the sound of his hiss shot straight to your core.
“What a goddamn whore,” he spat, bringing his teeth down onto your neck and you gripped at his hair.
You laughed at his statement, “You’re the one that can’t get enough of this pussy. Why so desperate to claim it? Afraid I'll fuck someone else?” Bucky pulled you back and slammed you against the wall with vigor, causing you to flinch
He stopped his thrusts altogether, “My patience only goes so far, Doll,” he threatened, tugging at your hair and you bit back a cry, “Choose your words wisely,”
You nodded hastily, the rough texture of the wall digging into your cheek and splitting skin. You wriggled up against him to continue moving but he retracted completely and flipped you over so he was laying on the bed and you were straddling him.
“Move,” he ordered, his hands digging bruises into your waist.
You leaned over, pressing your chest against his to lift your hips up and down on him but he pushed you back up and held your arms behind your back to keep you in place. You whimpered but the cry quieted when you rubbed your clit against him and your pussy clenched at the friction. You moaned out a breathy fuck and swiveled your hips around his, noting how much deeper he filled you in this position.
“Buck-” you huffed, eyes glued to the glistening abs beneath you. “I’m gonna cum,”
“Already?” He jeered, an eyebrow raised in amusement.
You’d lost all energy to sneer at him, your focus solely on how the sensation grew and began pooling in your cunt. “Cock . . . so good,” you breathed out, barely able to keep yourself from melting into him.
“What was that, Doll?” He stilled your movements and you groaned in annoyance.
You wriggled in his hold and you could tell by the furrow of his brow that he was fighting to keep control as well. You leaned over him, your lips hovering over his, “Mine,”
His grip flew to the back of your neck and he crashed your lips onto his, giving you full reign again. You bounced your hips on his dick, slamming down vigorously and rubbing your clit in effect. It didn’t take long for your climax to build again.
“’M gonna . . .” you whispered and Bucky placed you back up, gripping your hips and swiveling you around how you were earlier.
“Cum, Doll,” he allowed, “Cum all over this cock,”
You cried out, your toes curling as the dam in your core snapped and your climax washed over you. You hadn’t realized your fingers were intertwined with Bucky's until you came back down from your high, your chest heaving for breath.
He sat up slowly and pressed his lips against your neck. “You’re beautiful,”
Your body tensed at his words and you pulled away to give him a look of confusion. But he didn’t take his statement back, only slipped his hands around your back and gently placed you onto the bed, hovering over you.
He moved with caution, like his gentleness might scare you off if he touched you too tenderly or stared too long in admiration. But he couldn’t help it, he did admire you.
He spread your legs open and nestled between them, pushing into you slowly until your hips met and you both breathed out. His movements weren’t nearly as brutal as they were earlier, these thrusts were slow and deep and full of intention. He brought his torso down onto yours and you wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him closer to you.
He ran his hand, the only one he allowed himself to touch you affectionately with, through your hair and stared down at you, waiting. His gaze shifted between your lips to your eyes and he ran his thumb delicately along your mouth.
You looked at him then, really looked at him with fresh eyes and your heart leapt into your throat at the realization. “Kiss me,” you whispered and he lowered himself onto your lips, setting off an explosion in your chest.
“I’m yours,” he whispered, not able to bring himself to look at you, “I’ve been yours,”
You opened your mouth to respond but he silenced you with a deep thrust and a moan erupted instead. He quickened his pace, watching where you connected and pushed deeper and harder, your cries of pleasure driving him. He had to fuck you, he couldn’t love you, he couldn’t make love to you, just fuck. That’s it. He couldn’t allow himself to replay your look of shock at his confession, though the scene would surely be on loop for the next few days until he could get over it. Just fuck. Nothing more. Not with that look of disbelief on your face.
He held himself up with his forearms but you pressed him against you and wrapped your legs tighter around him. “Harder,” you whispered and he complied.
He groaned when your tits bounced and brought his mouth to a nipple, the faint taste of sweat lingering on your skin. You brought his metal hand up to your chest and made him grip the flesh there but he pulled it back and placed it beside your head instead.
“Bucky,” you whimpered and grabbed his hand again, bringing his open palm up to your lips and placing delicate kisses on the metal. “You can feel with it, right?”
He nodded, hesitance sprawled on his face.
“Then touch me,” you urged, bringing the hand down between your bodies and pressing the cold metal against your clit, “Feel me,”
His brows furrowed slightly but the look of your certainty forced him to dismiss his own perceptions of his body; or rather, that arm. And when he began rubbing circles into your bundle of nerves the expression on your face made him hate it a little less. Only a little.
You stared up at him, his pace growing erratic and sloppy and you knew he was close. “You wanna cum?”
He nodded, his hot breath coming out haggard and strained. You placed your hand on his cheek and brought him up to your kiss.
“Then cum,”
He shook his head, “You first,” he swirled his finger around your swollen clit and you gasped at the force of his thrust.
Your body tensed and you centered all your focus on his ministrations, “A little more pressure,” you directed and he quickly found a pressure that had you wobbling in the knees. “Close,” you murmured, gripping Bucky’s side and bringing your lips up to his neck to pepper the skin there.
He groaned and judging by the way his dick twitched inside you, you knew he wasn’t far behind.
“Bucky,” you whispered, pulling his attention towards you and his gaze brought you closer to the edge, “I’m yours,”
He blinked and his pace faltered for half a beat. He examined your facial expression, like he didn’t believe the words you’d spoken. Not like he couldn’t believe them, but like you’d said them just to appease him.
You placed your forehead against his, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath to center yourself in the haze of this fucking. “Yours,” you repeated, all the emotion residing in your chest poured into the singular word.
And then he was back to drilling you into the mattress, a new vigor fueling his thrusts. You cried out and Bucky pressed his sweaty torso flat against your own and it felt like the essence, the being, in your chest intermingled with his own and all the climaxes you’d previously experienced couldn’t hold a match to the flame, the intensity, the rawness of the one that washed over the both of you in that moment.
Bucky moaned out, his hips bucking into yours and you rode out both of your highs. The sensation consuming and overwhelming and welcome on both ends as it flooded through your bodies, meeting at your point of contact.
His arms flexed above you with the ferocity of his climax and the display had you writhing beneath him, already desperate for more.
“Buck,” you whispered when his breathing evened out after he collapsed onto you.
He didn’t respond, afraid it had all been a dream, a trick, despite still being inside you. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to shatter the perfection of this moment. What if you’d only said that to get him to finish faster? What if you’d only fed him what he wanted to hear? What if-
“Buck,” you repeated, pulling him from his daze and he lifted his head only slightly. You gripped his chin lightly and forced him to look you in the eye. “You’re . . . mine?”
He wanted to shake his head, to tell you that he got caught up in the moment but instead he said, “Yours,” because he knew anything else would be a lie and he was tired of lying.
You studied him and nodded, “Yours,” you stated, already rolling your eyes from the smirk forming on his face, “Unfortunately,”
He brought your face to his and planted a tender kiss on your lips. He started shifting his position and grabbed the underwear he’d been wearing earlier before pulling out and using the cloth to clean the mess pooling out of you. But not before taking a mental picture, of course.
After a few minutes of laying together, his hand playing with a few strands of hair, you felt the warm welcome of sleep beginning to drag you into its embrace. You opened your eyes groggily and looked up at Bucky who was already looking down at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“I know about your night terrors,” you whispered and his actions halted momentarily before returning to brush through your hair, “I hear you sometimes. And I understand why you don’t want to go to sleep but,” you sat up slowly and placed the thick blanket down on the floor, dragging the pillow down with you and patting the open space beside you, “you should rest. I’ll be here to calm you or stay up with you. Whichever one you need,”
He didn’t move at first, his ears drowning out any thought he could have while processing what you’d said. He’d stayed silent so long you’d thought you’d crossed a line.
“I can always sleep on the bed if you’d prefer, though,”
Bucky shook himself from his thoughts and edged closer to the floor, slowly descending into the available space and wrapping the blanket around the both of you as much as he could. “No,” he said, “I want you here,”
You hummed in response and snuggled into his waiting arms, lightly wrapping your own around him, making sure to kiss the part of himself he hated the most before fatigue swept you up into its clutches. Bucky followed soon after.
#SMUT#bucky#Bucky Barnes#barnes#james#James Buchanan Bucky Barnes#james buchanan barnes#the winter soldier#the white wolf#fluff#enemies to lovers#love#hate#one-shot#one shot#imagine#imagines#x reader#x you#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky imagine#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x imagines#the winter soldier x you#winter soldier x reader#winter soldier#yn#y/n
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Adversary /// Overhaul x f!Reader (18+)
Summary: You make a deal with the devil to save your life, but it turns out Overhaul’s not interested in your soul.
A/N: Remember when I said I was going to do a fantasy collab and then dipped for like 9 months? Hahaha…anyway…
@pleasantanathema @ present-mel @shadowworks—if it’s not too late, here’s my part for the Pleasant & Strider Fantasy AU Writing Collab from a million years ago. Go check out the masterlist and gorge yourself on these amazing pieces!!
Tags/Warnings: dubcon, demon fuckery & occult things, big heresy/sacrilege/perversion of religion, sex in a church ft. Catholic sex guilt, other than that it’s not that bad lol, inexperienced reader, mild degradation, shameless camp and demon-fucking clichés, Overhaul calls you “little girl” 👉👈
He doesn’t look like a demon.
Not that you really know what demons are supposed to look like. But…red skin, right? Fangs and claws and swirling masses of bad energy. Maybe cloven hooves for feet. Yes, that’s the Disney version—but even if you didn’t expect a cartoon personification of evil, you didn’t expect this.
He looks like a doctor, you think. Lab coat hanging open, surgery mask pushed down under his jaw, stethoscope draped over his shoulders. No, he’s a little young to really look like a doctor…an intern, you amend, shifting back in your hospital bed. He looks like he fits right in here, not a hair out of place. Except for, you know, the polished black horns curling out of the sides of his skull.
Overhaul. It was written in the book. That’s the only thing you have to call him in your head.
He’s standing in the center of the sigil you drew at the foot of your bed before midnight, surveying the room critically without meeting your gaze. He looks annoyed—that’s not a good sign, is it?—but then again, of course he’s annoyed. You’d be annoyed too if you got summoned out of your cozy hell dimension in the middle of the night. According to the book, you’re lucky he even showed up…although ‘lucky’ isn’t really how you’d describe yourself most days.
“So,” Overhaul says after a long moment of silence in which you question every choice you’ve made in your relatively short life. “You’re dying.”
You nod.
“And you don’t want to be.”
You nod again, wondering if you’re supposed to be contributing more to this conversation. It’s a bit difficult when your mouth is so dry it feels like you’ve been eating dirt, but you suppose being in the presence of an unholy servant of Satan will do that to a person.
“Fine.” He sighs, frowns, and then finally lowers his gaze onto yours—and you shiver.
Those eyes. No human has eyes like that.
“Make me an offer,” Overhaul tells you, and through his open mouth you catch a flash of sharp white teeth.
Okay. Okay. The chirping of the heart monitor speeds up (as if it weren’t obvious enough that you’re terrified) and you fold your knees up to your chest and fidget with your ring and think. He’s giving you a chance to establish parameters. You’re supposed to start with his end of the deal, the thing you want from him. That’s what it said to do in the grimoire, aka the 19th century demonology volume your creepy cousin brought back from her pagan anthropology research trip in rural France. The one you keep hidden under your bed because your mother would burn it if she knew you were reading about summoning demons.
Offer nothing to a hell creature without first telling him your price. You know the words by heart, both the winding calligraphy of the original French from the grimoire and the rushed scrawl of the English translation your cousin left for you in sheets of lined paper layered between the pages of the book for you to read. Really, this is her fault. She was the one who slipped you the book, who told you that it worked, who snuck you the ingredients for the summoning. She was the one who left a bookmark at the chapter on this particular demon, one that specializes in ‘Contrat pour Remédier au Déséquilibre des Quatre Humeurs’, which she said meant a contract to cure any illness. Even his ‘name’ is translated in her hand, practically an afterthought in the margins of the page.
‘Le Malin qui Ravage et Rebâtit’— Overhaul?
You looked up the literal meaning of this phrase on your own. It did not reassure you.
“Girl.” His voice is cold, irate. Your eyes snap back up to his and it feels like that burning gaze is laser-beaming into your skull. “Do not test me. My time is limited…as is yours.”
You swallow. “How long do I have left?”
“Less than a single human year,” he tells you without a trace of sympathy. “Seven months, twelve days, three hours. Or so. You’ll be too exhausted to leave this bed in four months, and the pain will become intolerable in six… By the end, you’ll wish—“
“Stop,” you breathe out. The heart monitor is beeping wildly and you squeeze your knees into your chest, trying to calm down your breathing. “Stop, I—I want to live.”
“Of course you do.” Overhaul’s lip curls. “How very predictable.”
Be specific, you remind yourself, doing your best to ignore the stifling disapproval from the man—the demon—in front of you. Something about him (maybe how clean-cut he looks, maybe the indisputable authority in his demeanor) makes you want to impress him. But you didn’t turn your back on your religion—you didn’t draw pagan symbols on the floor in chalk, fill silver cups with various questionable substances (including your own virgin blood), and turn the crucifix your mother hung over your bed upside-down so you could let a demon make you feel guilty for wanting to survive. “I want to be cured. I’m okay with whatever natural death I have instead when I’m older, I just don’t want to die of this illness. I want you to make me healthy.”
“Simple enough. What else?”
‘Simple’? Your heart surges with something you’ve felt very little of since your initial diagnosis—hope. “T-That’s it. Just the cure.”
Overhaul glares at you. “Humans… Every vice in the world available to you, and you limit yourselves to the basest priority of survival.”
“But you can do it? You can cure me?” you persist.
Overhaul steps forward (quiet, so quiet you wonder if he really moved) and holds a hand out to you past the foot of your bed—you hesitate, and a second later you can see the muscles in his hand flex, stretching the latex of his plastic gloves tight over his knuckles.
Just do it. You give him your hand. Carefully. Like you’re scared the contact will burn you. It doesn’t (although his skin feels warmer than yours), but after a moment his grip tightens, sliding down past your hand to circle the fragile bones of your wrist and squeeze.
“Ow?” You wince.
The demon’s eyes flicker closed for a second, lips moving silently like he’s talking to himself—and then he drops your hand unceremoniously back onto your lap. “You could be cured before the sun rises this morning. I doubt your stay in the hospital will extend past the end of the week.”
He sounds bored, voice as flat and passionless as it was earlier, but your heart is soaring. Cured. You’ve lived with this illness for so many years, you can’t remember the last time someone told you you could be cured. And getting out of the hospital that soon? You can just imagine taking down all the decorations from the walls of your room here and setting them up in your old bedroom at home. You could see friends on the weekend and not take an oxygen bag, you could get a job or��or apply to college, you could have a life—
“That is…assuming you have something to offer me in exchange for the cure.”
Your stomach drops. You’d almost forgotten about the other half of the deal.
“Don’t tell me I came all this way for nothing.” Overhaul steps back, and the orange light of the candles you set sends strange shadows over his arrogant face. The fires look brighter now, and you find yourself tracing the lines of those shining black horns. In an odd way, they look natural—so organically framing his temples that you can’t imagine him without them.
“N-No, of course not. I have some money—I mean, my mom has some, and I can get it for you…” Which is half the truth. If you know anything, it’s that your mother’s spent most of her savings on your treatment and care. You probably have more debt than you have money in the bank right now—you’d try to get rid of that, too, if you hadn’t read in the book how important it is to keep your request as simple and straightforward as possible.
…Although it’s apparently not enough. Overhaul’s eyes narrow, molten gold irises carved into slits. “Even if I had a use for human money, do you really believe your life is worth so little?”
“No—no,” you say quickly. “I just thought—in case you were interested—”
The air crackles with energy, the candle flames spark bright blood-red, and the hair on your arms stands straight up. “I am not.”
“Okay! I get it.” You wave your hands back and forth, pulling your IV line from side to side with the motion. The book was very clear about staying calm and rational while you work out the terms of the deal, but that’s easier said than done when you have a real live (live?) hell creature in front of you. You always knew this was going to be the hard part—all the stories say there’s only one thing that a demon would be interested in, and no matter how inviting the prospect of living past this illness is, you know you’d rather die than sell your immortal soul to the devil. “I’ll give you anything except my soul! And—and don’t hurt anyone I care about, or— just don’t hurt anyone, okay? Other than that, if there’s anything I can give you, I will.”
Overhaul’s lip curls, baring a thin strip of those unnaturally sharp canines. “And is your soul really so valuable?”
This throws you for a loop. Isn’t that the standard deal? A soul for a wish? That’s how it’s supposed to work—at least in this twisted version of reality where you can summon a demon to perform unholy miracles for you. But if you think about it, it doesn’t really make sense, does it? Why would your soul be valuable to him? You can’t form an argument, especially since you’re not willing to barter it away in the first place.
Your mouth is pursed open as you search for a response, but Overhaul doesn’t seem willing to wait. A gloved hand wraps its way around the railing at the side of your bed, and he leans in closer. “Little girl…what makes you think you possess anything I desire?”
Little girl. You’re not a little girl, you’re a grown woman—and yet there’s no untruth in the statement. In front of him you feel insignificant, immature, weak. You have nothing real to offer, and something tells you that you’re not going to get rid of the demon you summoned without a sacrifice you’re not willing to make.
You twist your ring around your finger—the nervous habit you haven’t bothered to break because you’ve always had more important things to worry about—and the glint of silver in the candlelight must catch Overhaul’s eye because before you even notice him moving, your delicate hand is trapped in his larger one to give him a better view of the tiny piece of jewelry. “What is this?”
“It’s—um, a ring. A purity ring.” Has he never seen one before? Well…actually, that makes sense.
Overhaul turns your hand over in his without touching the band of silver. He’s looking at it closely, inspecting the lovingly engraved cross in the design and the inscription on the other side. “Matthew 5:8,” he reads out.
“…Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God,” you recite cautiously. It feels wrong to speak the words in front of him, but somehow you can’t help yourself.
Overhaul’s hand doesn’t leave yours. “This ring is important to you.”
“It’s a symbol of a—a promise I made to God. To save myself for my future husband.”
“To ‘save yourself’? To save what?”
You can’t believe you’re explaining this to a literal demon. You close your eyes and inhale slowly and taste smoke. “My…virginity. It’s a promise that I won’t have sex until I enter into a biblical marriage.”
At this, Overhaul is quiet. You give him a moment to answer, half expecting him to question why you think God cares about your sexual status (honestly, you’d be lying if you said you haven’t wondered this yourself), but he stays quiet until you peek up at him to try and gauge the look on his coldly handsome face.
He’s still staring at the ring. He hasn’t touched it—maybe he can’t, because of the cross?—and through the latex, his skin feels hotter than a human’s is supposed to be.
“Is there…” you start, but you trail off when you realize you have nothing to ask. You give a little tug to try and take your hand away and you’re surprised when your wrist actually slides out of his grip to fall back on the nest of sheets in your lap. You didn’t think he’d let you go so easily.
Overhaul turns his head to the side, eyes drilling into you so you feel like you should lower your gaze. The candlelight flickers in strange shadows over his horns. “This will do,” he says quietly.
“What?”
“In exchange for your cure.” The demon taps his own left ring finger, the place where the purity ring sits on your hand, and your heart soars. He actually wants that? It’s just a simple silver band, not worth much, but you’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe it has some special significance because of the religious connotation. Your mother will be angry you’ve lost it, but you’re happy to cope with that if it means living to actually get married!
“Yes!” you blurt out before he has a chance to rethink his offer. Sure, you’ll miss the purity ring—you’ve had it since you were a kid, after all—but there’s no question you’re getting the better end of this deal. At least in your opinion.
Something flashes through his yellow eyes, something you don’t even want to try and identify. “The contract, then.”
You barely have time to notice that his voice has gentled, that it’s practically silken in comparison to before, when the candlelight flickers again and suddenly the contract is everywhere. Everywhere. Writing appears on every surface in the room, covering the walls, stretching over the ceiling, coiling around the sides of the hospital equipment and decorating your bedsheets until you and Overhaul are the only untouched surfaces in sight. The characters are inscribed in red, dark red like—don’t think about that, you tell yourself squeamishly. You can make out some of the letters, even a word here or there—French, you recognize, mixed with what looks like Latin and interspersed with what you can only guess are runes.
“I can’t read this,” you tell him, fidgeting with your ring for what you now realize will be the last time.
“I only need your name,” he purrs, and then you feel a fragile weight in your hand: a feather, pearl-black and glossy and too large to belong to any bird you can think of, its angled tip glistening with wet ink. There’s an empty space in the writing before you, and Overhaul’s gloved hand comes to yours again to guide you into place.
This feels wrong…then again, of course it does. Even if you’re getting off relatively easy and just losing your ring rather than your soul, you’re still making a deal with a demon. You sign your name, forcing yourself to think about the future you have ahead of you rather than a disapproving white-bearded caricature of The Man Upstairs wagging his finger at you for haggling with a literal servant of Satan. People have done worse things to survive, haven’t they? It’s just a ring.
You set the feather down and Overhaul sighs, thick black eyelashes obscuring his intense gaze for a moment—and then the contract is gone, leaving your hospital room as blank and sterile as it’s supposed to be (well, aside from the candles and all the other ritual stuff you threw together to summon a demon in the first place).
“Are you going to cure—heal me now?” you ask.
“…Patience, little girl.” He’s pulling his glove off, peeling it down his fingers to bare the pale skin of his hand. You catch your breath and wonder what this is going to feel like, and then the tips of his fingers meet your cheek and—
you stop breathing.
It doesn’t hurt.
Or if it does, you don’t remember the pain a second later when breath floods back into your lungs. What you do feel is energy. Strength in your muscles, blood pumping through your veins, every inhale and exhale as light as a bird and freer. You feel healthy. You’re surprised you even remember what health feels like but you do: it’s like you’ve only been half alive, and now life is surging into you and through you and around you, bubbling up in your core like a spring overflowing. You blink rapidly, thinking you might cry from the sheer pleasure of it, but when you open your mouth it’s laughter that comes out. You’re healthy. You’re alive. You barely notice the IV line literally falling off of your skin because the hole where it entered your vein is sealed shut and healed perfectly.
No more needles. No more hospitals. Even without all the monitors beeping out your heart rate and measuring your vitals, there’s not a shred of doubt in your mind that you’re cured.
“Thank you!” you laugh, looking up at Overhaul and for the first time, not caring that he’s evil incarnate. “I feel—I’m okay! It worked!”
“Of course it did.” His expression is inscrutable, but he lets you have a few moments to enjoy your newfound health.
You roll your shoulders back, flex each muscle you can isolate one by one to test, make fists with your fingers and then run them over your hair, which is already thicker and shinier than it was a moment ago. Your body thrums with energy—you want to run, to feel the ground against your bare feet and the cold night air on your face, and you think you could do it! Your legs are already swinging over the side of your cot, ready to run barefoot out of the hospital if that’s what it takes, but before you can stand up Overhaul’s pushing you back down onto the bed.
“Have you forgotten your end of the bargain already?”
Honestly you did forget, but only for a second, only because you were so excited to just be outside again. “Oh, yeah. Of course.” Your hand goes to your left ring finger, ready to slip the ring off and hand it over, but Overhaul shakes his head.
“Not here.”
“What—?”
You’re falling. Your hospital room is disappearing, the image of your walls and your window and your bed disintegrating into yawning black, and you’re falling through it into nothing, into emptiness, and Overhaul’s still-bare hand in yours is the only anchor you have so you clutch onto it and squeeze your eyes shut. You want to scream—that’s the sane thing to do when you’re falling through miles and miles of empty space, right?—but when you open your throat the sound is swallowed up just like the light was…
Overhaul’s hand burns into yours, an improbable lifeline that you pull closer more out of terror than conscious thought. The slick, empty air rushes around you and you think I am going to die like this and then, incredibly, as soon as you’ve accepted your imminent demise, you feel your back mold onto a chilled, flat surface, vertebra by vertebra up to the back of your head, as if you’ve been lain down onto it.
Your heart thuds in your ears and you brace for an impact because your body hasn’t quite accepted yet that it’s not falling anymore—but at the same time, you know you’re lying down on something. You pry your fingers away from their vice-grip on Overhaul’s arm and feel around blindly for what’s underneath you, and when it seems reasonably tangible you let yourself open your eyes.
Way above, vaulted dozens of feet over your head, is a ceiling studded with gilt-edged frescoes and stained glass. It’s raining (even though it wasn’t in the hospital, you think) but through the massive panes of colored glass there’s enough oily blue light to make out that you’re in a church.
You’re in a church, with a demon. Isn’t that against the rules?
You sit up stiffly and look over at Overhaul, who’s standing at your side and looking down at you…which is how you realize the soft, cold surface you’ve been deposited onto is the blanket on top of the altar in the sanctuary. “Where...did you take me?”
“You should know this place.”
And you do, when you look around. It’s empty now and you’ve never been here at night, but this is a church your mother would bring you to when you were little, back before the disease got so bad you couldn’t risk traveling to it anymore. This is where you took your purity vow…the ring feels heavy on your hand. “Why—why—“
“I can’t stand human hospitals. Filthy places… How that reek of illness and death doesn’t bother your kind, I’ll never understand.” Overhaul pulls his latex glove back on. He’s dressed differently now, no longer impersonating a doctor—black shirt, black pants, and a…bird mask in red leather and gold. So are you, as a matter of fact. Instead of your hospital gown, you’re in a gauzy white dress that’s already been pushed up to pool around the tops of your thighs.
The slip is too thin for the cold, and you can feel your nipples standing up under the cloth so you fold your arms over your chest and hug yourself. “Why did you take me here?” The sound of your voice echoes off the walls eerily and you wish you hadn’t spoken so loudly. The reflection of your words sounds girlish, nervous.
“I told you. Your side of our contract.” Even in this dark, the angular features of his face are clearly concentrating—on you. “Are you already having second thoughts? Such a fickle little thing…”
“You mean the ring?” You reach for it again, ready to tear it off and throw it at him if that’s what it takes to see your deal through, but Overhaul snatches your hand away, pinning it above you.
“Not the ring,” he says. “The promise.”
The…promise?
A chill makes its way down your spine despite the heat radiating off the demon’s body and onto yours. “I don’t understand.”
“The promise,” Overhaul repeats—and you hear a sound almost like wings flapping and then he’s on the altar with you, knees straddling your hips as a single hand holds both your wrists above your head. “To remain a virgin until marriage. Your promise to God.”
A streak of lightning cracks down on the other side of the stained glass window behind the altar, illuminating the room briefly in spectacular pits of red and orange and yellow…and then it’s dark again, and the only color you can make out is the gold in Overhaul’s eyes.
“I’m going to break it,” he murmurs, lowering his head toward your ear right as the answering thunder rolls through the sanctuary, up through the altar, up into you.
///
Méfiez-vous de son piège, the grimoire said. Beware of the catch.
Of course it wasn’t just a ring.
Overhaul’s fingers are in—inside you, his middle and ring finger pumping through the length of your cunt like they belong there, like you were made to be touched this way. A mixture of your juices and your own spit cling to the latex because he made you suck his fingers before he put them in you and he hasn’t bothered to take his gloves off—not that you asked. You’ve been too busy biting your lip to try and muffle the moans that he keeps forcing out of you. He’s bracing himself on top of you with one hand and fingering you with the other, so your own hands are free to push into your eyes and hide your face…until he yanks your arm back and stops.
“Look at me.”
Your eyes are screwed shut and you shake your head back and forth, the movement shuddering your whole body right down to your pussy wrapped around Overhaul’s fingers. He slows the movement and kneels back, pushing one of your thighs up into your chest as he does it.
“Look at me.”
And you’re not sure whether it’s some unearthly power he has over you or the plain old deterioration of your willpower, but you can’t refuse him. You crack your eyes open and he’s glaring down at you, skin pale as ice in the blue light. Once he’s satisfied that you’re watching, the demon leans back in to fuck your cunt with his fingers, slowly at first and then quicker when he hits something inside of you—a spot, a place on the inner wall of your pussy that makes you feel like you’ve been shocked— heat blooms through you like blood in water and you gasp and he curls his fingers up to pet over that spot again.
“Wait—wait, that’s—it feels—weird!” You’ve never felt like this before. You’re not supposed to feel like this, it’s wrong.
“I understand you’ve never touched yourself, but don’t pretend you don’t like it.” Overhaul says, voice as indifferent and calm as ever even though your cunt is dripping clear sticky liquid over the plastic of his glove.
He pushes back in and grinds his palm over the little button on the top of your pussy—your clit?—and you want to scream. “No, I—I don’t—nnhh...”
Do you like it? The demon’s body is so hot next to yours, like he’s running a fever except you’re the one going out of your mind… You’ve heard metaphors for sexual pleasure before (that it’s like having something to drink when you’re dying of thirst; or that it’s the ultimate act of intimacy, love in physical form) but all of that’s a fucking lie. There’s nothing to compare it to, no reference that makes sense, because it doesn’t make sense—you don’t even want him to keep going, do you? You’re only doing this because you signed your name on a devil’s contract, because you don’t want to die and there’s no alternative…but that doesn’t explain why you feel so warm from the inside out, why you’re squirming and your hips are rocking involuntarily no matter how much you try to keep still. This isn’t right. You feel like you’ve been lied to.
A good girl wouldn’t like this.
Overhaul isn’t going to let you close your eyes, so you don’t—but the sounds coming out of your mouth are so…indecent (and how can you think these things about yourself? the word feels like someone else is saying it when you hear it in your head) that your hand is drifting up to your mouth before you can stop yourself, trying to stifle all of it…
“Let your voice out. I want you to hear yourself moan.”
Long fingers slide their way out of your pussy and then move up to rub quick little circles around your clit and you moan, like a whore, like a girl getting her cunt rubbed by a demon— “Oh, uhhhn—something, it’s—coming—“ There’s something building up in your core—a peak, a climax, something that makes you fist your hands in the nightgown he put you in (so tight you’re surprised the thin fabric hasn’t torn) and tilt your hips up into him, begging without words because you don’t have any to express what your body is asking for…
But he doesn’t give it to you. Overhaul takes his hand away from your pussy and the shock of the cool air after his too-hot touch is almost enough to send you over that edge—almost. Not quite. And without it, you’re left shivering and quaking, thighs twitching as your baser instincts beg you to just put your hand between your legs for once and hump your fingers to completion if the demon won’t do it.
You’re not going to risk that, though. Not when Overhaul’s dragging your body closer, bunching up the blanket on the altar under your spine, so your pelvis is angled to his… He’s already shirtless and you hear him unzipping his pants but you can’t bring yourself to actually look at him, even when you feel something hard and hot nudging up against your inner thigh and then aligning to your sticky wet slit.
“This will hurt a bit, but I want you to look,” he says, and you don’t even understand at first until you make yourself feel it—his cock, pushing up against your tight cunt to finish this, this perversion of what your first time was supposed to be…
And what was it supposed to be? Roses and candles and soft kisses? A nameless, faceless husband unzipping your wedding dress and making love to you with the lights off? The way the demon touches you should be cruel in comparison but it isn’t, it’s lighting fires under your skin and turning your brains to mush, so how is your body supposed to tell the difference?
It’ll hurt, you know that, you’ve heard enough about sex to know that it always hurts the first time for girls…women. It was already a stretch to fit his fingers in your virgin pussy, so of course his cock is going to hurt. You turn your head toward the window at your side and try on look out at the rain drawing rivulets like veins over the glass, something to focus on instead of him.
“I said look,” the demon hisses, and his hips push forward a bit and you bite off a whimper of pain. “Watch me take your virginity…look at your tight little cunt swallowing me up just like it was made to.”
“N-No—“ you whine, even though it’s not like you can ignore it. “Don’t make me, don’t make me look, I can’t—“
“Then look at me.”
It’s what he wants, some kind of wicked satisfaction he gets off on, but you’re lucky enough to even get an option so you choose that one, shifting your gaze up into his face instead of the place where his cock is pressing deeper and deeper inside you. Overhaul’s eyes are half-lidded and it’s hard to tell from behind the mask but the look on his face is…pleasure? No, that would be too human. Restraint, at least. He could just thrust up into your body in one stroke, but he wants you to feel it for some reason.
Maybe because it’s a worse betrayal of your chastity if you want to get fucked.
Lucky for you, though, you can barely feel anything aside from the pain. The heat you felt building earlier is draining out of you even as Overhaul tilts deeper, layering his chest over yours. You’re almost grateful for the modest barrier the dress provides between your torso and the solid muscle of his abdomen. His cock in your pussy feels like it’s too big too deep too much and it’s the first time you’ve felt like your body wasn’t created specifically for this purpose so you hold it tight.
“Does it hurt?”
A second of clarity makes you want to snarl (of course it fucking hurts, I’m losing my virginity to a demon I summoned from hell) and you dig your fingernails into your palms to stop yourself from saying it out loud. Overhaul pulls out a fraction of an inch and then pushes back in and you feel like the breath’s being pushed out of your lungs. “Yes! Yes, it—it hurts—“
“I can make you enjoy it…for a price,” he sighs, settling into a slow rocking motion of his hips pushing into yours.
And you want to, every sore muscle in your cunt is telling you to give in and give up, give him what he wants so you can enjoy it like he says—but you’d rather hate every second of this than make another deal. You shake your head quickly and because you’re still too afraid to look away from him, you don’t miss the look of surprise that flits across his face before he tamps it down. “I don’t—I don’t want to—like it,” you gasp out between thrusts. “It’s better if—if it h-hurts…”
This time it’s obvious—his eyes really do widen, and you feel some petty triumph at having caught him off guard like this. Who’s predictable now? you think—and then he’s lifting one hand off the altar at the side of your head and tugging his glove off with his teeth, and you don’t even have time to be afraid of what he’s going to do to you because it’s too late, his bare fingers are already stroking over your mound and onto your core, massaging into the flesh of your stomach so he can feel his own cock sliding in and out of you—
and it doesn’t hurt anymore?
You only have a second to try and understand—he cured you, he healed the pain from your first time just like he healed your illness?—before he hooks his grip under your thigh and folds your legs into your chest so he can fuck into you harder than before. His cock slaps into your pussy and you can hear it, hear how wet your filthy little cunt is, smeared through with your juices. It’s sick—the sound of skin against skin, and the moaning you can’t hold back, you sound like a woman in a porno and you wish the pain would come back just so you could keep hating what he’s doing to you. “What—what did you do—“
The demon ignores you. “It feels good, doesn’t it.”
“Nn—“ It’s deeper like this…deeper and rougher and you can feel it. Now that the pain’s been reduced to the dull ache of a stretched muscle, you can feel everything—his cock sliding against that same spot in your cunt that makes you want to squeal, the friction of his body moving against your clit, all of it, everything you wanted to block out— he pumps into you and you hear your breath sobbing out a moan a second out of rhythm, the sounds of you bouncing on demon cock echoing over the walls. “Please—ah, ahhh…”
“‘Please?’ Are you begging—me, little girl?” Overhaul pushes your thigh up and drags his cock through you, excruciatingly slow, forcing you to feel the thick head slide over every gummy wall in your slick pussy.
You shake your head, mewl, try to force your hips to stop rocking back into his and grinding your clit against him. But you can’t. You’re a—you were a virgin, for fuck’s sake! Overhaul’s immortal. Probably thousands of years of experience on how to make you feel like you want this, like you’re only alive in the places he touches you… You’re at his mercy, if he has any. You never stood a chance.
“Then are you begging your god?” His body lowers directly onto yours and like you’re being controlled by puppet strings your arms fold around him and rake your fingernails uselessly into the smooth skin of his back. You can feel the vibration of his mirthless laughter through his chest. “It must hurt terribly…to know he isn’t listening.”
“Don’t—stop, please,” you sob. “Don’t say—don’t stop—please!”
“Listen to yourself, girl—“ Overhaul’s breath is faster now, but you don’t have time to question it because you feel your peak coming again, the tension rising up through your cunt and your abdomen, harsher and crueler than when his fingers were in you but you want it just as much. More. “Has he ever answered your prayers? Has he...ahh, fuck—who’s the one giving you what you need?”
“No— please, please just let me let me, please—“ You’re talking nonsense now, begging for the release—at least then it’ll be over, and you need it, you need it so badly you feel your muscles locking up, cramping, your ankles crossing each other behind Overhaul’s back.
“Good girl,” the demon breathes, and then he lifts off you so he’s kneeling upright with the two of you still connected, his thick, heavy cock still speared in your pussy, and his fingers come down again to rub at your clit. Everything’s so wet you can hear the motion of his fingers slicking themselves through your juices, sliding up and down the little button over and over and it feels so good that a tiny part of you almost wants to drag it out, to savor it, but the rest of your body is going to die, is going to go crazy if the demon doesn’t let you cum right now, right now, right now!
And he does. Praise the Lord. The pads of Overhaul’s fingers pass over your clit one last time and your head rolls back, your throat moves but you can’t even make a sound, your legs shake and you cum.
You didn’t know it was like this.
Your cunt squeezes down on his cock, throbbing and pulsing and your toes literally curl (you didn’t think that was a real thing!) and your vision goes black for a moment and—oh fuck oh fuck i want this i want more how is it possible that i’ve never felt like this—you understand, more intimately than ever, why sex is wrong:
because nothing that makes you feel this good could possibly come without a cost, could it?
///
It must take longer than you thought for you to come back to your senses, because when you regain awareness of your body you’re in your hospital bed. You’re clean, too, and you wonder for a second if Overhaul bothered to clean you up? Or no…he probably just snapped his fingers and transported you back to your room. You’re not really sure how it works.
What you are sure of, however, is that you just got fucked by a demon. You’re sore in places that you didn’t know it was possible to be sore, and there are already bruises forming on the flesh of your thighs from how tight he was holding you. You don’t really have time to inspect these, though, because apparently your…ordeal (if you can call it that) isn’t over.
Overhaul’s still here.
He’s facing the hints of sunrise through the east window, dressed again in the immaculate lab coat and surgeon’s mask. “You’re awake,” he says without looking at you.
You nod hesitantly. You’re not really sure what the protocol is in this situation, but at least you’ve finally held up your side of the contract, right? And so has he. Despite having been up all night doing sinful things, you’re still itching to get out of this bed and test the limits of your healthy body. “You’re…going to leave, right?”
“Yes—”
At that, you sigh in relief and settle back into your starched bedsheets.
“But there’s one more thing you owe me.”
“Goddamnit,” you swear for the very first time in your life. After what you just did, taking the Lord’s name in vain seems like a relatively minor sin.
Overhaul’s mildly irritated expression doesn’t change, but he holds his hand out to you, palm up, the way you imagine someone would if they were helping you out of a car or requesting a dance at an old-fashioned ball. And really, you want all of this to be over—you want to get out of this hospital, you want to taste what the air outside is like, you want to distract yourself from what you just gave up in exchange for a future. At this point you’re just going to have to hope God isn’t as picky about the whole premarital sex thing as you grew up believing.
So you put your hand in Overhaul’s.
Slowly, carefully, like he’s afraid it’ll burn him, he slides your purity ring down your finger and balances it in the palm of his bare hand. It sizzles when he touches it, glowing orange until it eventually burns down into a ash-black circle in the center of his palm. Once he’s satisfied that your pretty little ring has been reduced to nothing more than a scorch mark, he closes his hand around yours and you feel something sharp, painfully hot, etching onto your finger.
It’s over in a second, but you still yelp and yank your hand away from him as soon as he lets you. “Ah—ow, what was that?”
He burned you, he literally burned you! He’s already healed it, but there’s still a thin, pale scar, an intentional one left wrapping around the skin at the base of your left ring finger. Like a wedding ring.
When you look close, you can make out a symbol on the back of your finger where the cross used to sit—and even though your conscious mind doesn’t recognize it, the sight of it rings out something inside your ribcage, deeper and truer than flesh and blood. It’s the devil’s mark, you think. It’s his.
“…A promise,” Overhaul says softly, and even though it’s a chilly morning, you can feel the heat of his hands on yours a long time after he vanishes back into the dark.
#overhaul x reader#chisaki kai x reader#bnha x reader#bnha imagines#mha imagines#tw dubcon#tw sacrilege#tw christianity#overhaul#chisaki kai#bnha#mha#boku no hero academia x reader#boku no hero imagines#my hero academia x reader#my hero imagines#boku no hero fanfic#smut
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Tattoo artist mc?
Characters- All
Gn!Reader
Warnings- Swearing, mild suggestive themes, tattoos and the getting of them
Category- Headcanons
Lucifer
He doesn’t have tattoos and claims that he doesn’t see a need for them. In reality he is Afraid.
You offer to do a small piece, like on his shoulder or something?
mmm tempting but are you sure this isn’t a plot his brothers came up with to see if he was muscular or not?
lol no but I mean (don’t say the last bit out loud, you’ll get fuckin punted
he’ll hesitantly agree to small letters that spell “fuck you and the horse you came in on” in the demon script, purely because he wears long sleeved shirts, nobody’s gonna see it.
He’s got a really high pain tolerance, he’s anticipating immense amounts of pain only to be greeted with an “all done!”
He actually really likes it, might ask for other pieces later.
If he does ask for other pieces, the first one will be a dark red peacock feather with an eye in the middle, enchanted so it looks around.
Mammon
Let’s be real here he’s terrified. Expect lies about “not wantin to spend money on that” and not seeing the point.
However, the thought of getting to spend upwards of an hour with you and strict instructions banning his brothers from interrupting?
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm okay
ends up getting design of the four ace cards, splayed like they would be in someone’s hand. It’s on his upper back, between his shoulderblades.
Each one is a different color, all with gold edges and a silver, tiny drawing of grimm in the middle where the sign would usually be.
He fucking loves it, his only regret would be that it’s on his back and really hard to look at.
Leviathan
He’s the only one who’s upfront about being fucking scared but also he’s very supportive!
asks to see some of your works
Realizes he could get a tattoo of anything and is resisting the urge to ask
He might, he might end up with several anime logos in a scale pattern on his left shoulder blade, each one on a scale of it’s own.
Just maybe.
Satan
Genuinely not scared, asks to see your supplies/designs and then asks to commission you for a piece
he wants a bunch of black kittens on the side of his torso/abdomen, with yellow eyes and small silver outlines as the only clear lines.
it’ll take, like, five-six hours to get everything right, you warn him. that’s fine, he says, I have pretty good patience, he says.
He’s lying but whatever, it’s good practice.
Insists on paying you, he’ll give you a ridiculous amount of money. If you want to haggle it’ll be on getting the price down.
Asmodeus
Obviously, he’s not scared, maybe a little restless but not scared. As a matter of fact, he’s thrilled!
Why? well, because you offered to do a piece for him, and he asked for a fairly complex one and you said it’d be manageable
Plus, he’s Asmo, so he’ll end up making all kinds of comments about how nice it is to have your hands on him. Ignore him or flirt back, up to you.
He wants a thigh-and hip piece of complex spirals that start as black-and-white twists and turn into coloured smoke, and frankly didn’t expect it to be quite as good. He’s amazed and thrilled, expect many more requests. (he does limit himself to smaller pieces in the future, though no less intricate.)
Number one supporter. Expect to get customers, because if you give permission, he’ll be bragging about the excellent work on his body for weeks on end. Yes, he does phrase it like that most of the time.
this motherfucker is going to make you a Devilgram account just for cataloguing the works you’ve done on demons.
Beelzebub
He’ll probably pass up getting a tattoo himself, but is supportive and helps you get supplies.
Later, towards the very end of s1, he’ll ask for a design of a thin, delicate flower bracelet with your name in the center of the flowers, one letter at a time.
He’ll leave the flowers up to you, but ask that they “don’t look too edible, please”
might later ask for a dragons-eye style design in the center of the one flower that didn’t have any letters
Belphegor
this man really went “eh if you can give me a tattoo that’d be cool but also I don’t fucking care” and then pouted when you didn’t give him one.
Will end up asking for a small constellation, not one that’s recognized, but start that vaguely spell out a cow, on his shoulder.
He’ll end up asking for little designs that twist around his bicep, claiming that the feeling of getting a tattoo is calming
weird flex but okay
Diavolo
gasp “that’s so cool”
If you look hard enough, legend says you can see his tail wagging as he looks at your work
Super supportive, wants to know everything about tattoos
Offers to set up a shop for you (Take it, it’s easy money)
he’s going to be so fucking enthusiastic about this whole thing.
Is he going to ask for a tattoo- of fucking course he’s going to ask for a tattoo.
He’s going to ask for enough tattoos that Barbatos has to supervise his requests.
Ends up getting a golden, flowing ribbon around his left bicep that’s made so that if you look long enough, it raises a serpentine head and hisses.
Barbatos
he likes the idea of getting a tattoo, but isn’t entirely sure about it
Will observe the first three or so times you give someone a tattoo before deciding he’d like one
will ask for, surprisingly, a light pink rose in the first stage of unfurling.
it goes on the underside of his right wrist, and is barely covered by his sleeves.
He won’t ask for any other pieces, but suggest that you set up a shop of sorts
Simeon
Expect lots of excitement and an equal amount of ignorance
This man doesn’t know anything about tattoos, unless you include the washable ones from devilmart.
Explain them to him, he’ll immediately ask for one
He won’t have anything in mind though, so give him a lotus flower, pure white with tints of blue to make it pop!
it’s on his shoulder, and very visible
He will brag about this shit
Solomon
That’s nice dear
nothing surprises this bitch anymore
will ask to see some of your work, and mostly jokingly ask if you can give him one, asking for a silver chain wrapping around his arm and slowly turning a deep blue.
Will enchant it later so that it moves. Enjoys acting fully fucking oblivious to the fact it does so.
The two of you could start a business purely with magic tattoos
Luke
supportive but definitely doesn’t want any tattoos. He’s more than happy to watch you work.
Will gleefully convince you to tattoo a mustache on the face of a demon who was being mean
Insists that you’re careful about offering tattoos, he doesn’t want you to get hurt after all
#obey me#omswd#obey me shall we date#obey me brothers#obey me undateables#little brother luke#obey me hc#obey me hcs#obey me writings#obey me x gender neutral reader#gn!reader#tattoo discussion
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hold onto me (im a little unsteady) - sokka x reader
i was listening to the song when i came up w this so feel free to listen to that if you want
summary: a late night with sokka reminds you that even on the worst days, you always have someone in your corner.
a/n: lmao this is 100% self indulgent i have no excuses. my parents are getting divorced and almost every time they're together they argue and so this is just a comfort fic after it happened again tonight bc GD i wish i had a sokka. this one goes out to all my divorce babies or people with parents that never stop arguing. you are very loved<3
wc: 1.7k, this got away from me lol
warning(s): mentions of parents arguing n shit, like the tiniest mentions of implying sex and problems with consent (in general, not with them), but this is all fluff
hey. i know you’re probably asleep right now but could you come over?
It was far too late at night when you sent the text. A question asked on a whim, an offer that would most likely go ignored due to the boy on the other end being asleep.
But goddammit, you really didn’t care. Even if he didn’t respond, just hitting ‘send’ made you feel slightly better. You had already taken refuge in one of the sweatshirts he had left at your house (read: one that you had stolen and refused to give back) and as your eyes fell on the glow of the digital clock on your bedside table, you were once again reminded of how stupid this was.
But you heard the telltale buzz of a notification and all but lunged for your phone, an uncontrollable smile tugging on your lips. You didn’t know why you ever doubted him.
sokka💙: you know i never sleep babe
sokka💙: a curse of my genius
sokka💙: im omw
you’re the best thank you love<3
A pair of fuzzy socks and a refilled water bottle later, you heard the sound of something hitting your window. Though you tensed up at first, a roll of your eyes was all it took before you remembered just who you had invited over. Another smile took over as you pushed yourself off of your bed, pushing the curtains aside in time to see another pebble hit the pane.
A physical effort took place to stifle the laugh as you pushed your window up, and you leaned against the sill on your elbows to get a better look at your ridiculous boyfriend.
“Throwing rocks at my window? I think I’m stuck in a bad romcom.”
He grinned and let the remaining pebbles fall to the ground. “It’s what’s to be expected from your Prince Charming, right? Besides, I’m assuming that your parents wouldn’t just let me walk through the front door at this hour.”
You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. Just the sight of Sokka was always enough to make you feel better, and tonight was no exception. The vice on your heart was already starting to loosen. “Right as usual. Think you’ll catch me if I jump?”
He laughed and made a show of looking up and down the distance and then at his arms. “I’d like to say so, but I think we’d have better luck if I climb up.”
“You sure you can do that, big guy?” you asked with a teasing grin. He rolled his eyes with the same sentiment.
“Of course I can. I just thank nature that there’s a tree so close to your window. It’s saved me from a lot of embarrassing falls.”
You chuckled and backed away from the window, the slight chill from the night air beginning to get to you. “I’ll leave you to it while I get things ready.”
Truth be told, your room was a total mess at the moment. You knew Sokka wouldn’t care, especially not now, but it put you slightly more at ease to have something in your life that you could control. You were in the middle of shoving some previously strewn-about clothes into your closet when you heard the click of your window closing. When you turned around, you were met with your boyfriend’s smiling face.
“You’re so pretty,” you murmured as you walked over to him. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you kissed him lightly on the lips, unable to stop the blossoming smile nor the warmth that the action gave you. “Thank you for being here.”
“Of course.” The softness of his words were in stark contrast to the joking bravado from only minutes earlier, and as you stepped away from his embrace and pushed yourself onto your bed, he joined you on the other side. “And not that I’m not happy to be here, but I just wanna know. What’s going on?”
You sighed, letting one leg hang off the bed as you tucked the other in. It was a testament to Sokka’s power how quickly he had gotten you to forget about the new mess of the night. “The usual showing of fuckall and fuckup. I’m more impressed by how they never run out of things to scream at each other about.”
Your bad joke didn’t get a laugh out of him, which you were secretly glad for. Instead, he snaked an arm around your back and tugged you closer, a contented sigh falling from your lips as you nestled your head into the space between his shoulder and his head. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “You know it’s not your fault, right?”
The phrase had gone in one ear and out the other more times than you could count from your parents, but each time Sokka said it, the words held a different weight. You knew it wasn’t your fault in the first place, but guilt didn’t care all that much for logic. You knew he meant it though, and once more the vice loosened.
“I know. But it still helps to hear it.” You glanced up at him, reaching a hand up to twist a loose strand of his hair around your finger. “You should wear your hair down more often,” you mused. “It makes you look like a prince.”
He chuckled, amusement glinting through his ocean eyes. “I did say I was your Prince Charming, didn’t I?”
You smiled, slowly uncurling his hair from your finger. “Yeah.”
“That means I’ll always be there for you. Especially to save my royal from their evil stepparents.”
Another laugh bubbled in your chest at that, and you leaned closer into him. “Thank you. The more I visit your place, the more I want your family to be mine. Hakoda is like, the nicest man I’ve ever met, and your mom? She actually makes me want to cry with how sweet she is. I think I know where you get it from.”
He grinned and bumped your leg with his own. “You know you’re welcome over there any time. But maybe you shouldn’t — I think my mom might actually adopt you with how much she loves you. That… that would be really weird.”
His joy was infectious as you planted another kiss on his cheek, something that earned you a, as you liked to call it, dazzling Signature Sokka Smile. “I’ll make sure she holds off on the adoption papers for now.”
“I’d like that.”
And though the happiness you felt at the moment was almost overwhelming, that was just what caused that tiny sliver of doubt to come in. When people invited their partners over at three in the morning, it usually wasn’t to sit on the bed and talk about their problems. It was… it was for more, and you didn’t want that right now. And because you were an expert at it, you decided to put your foot in your mouth and start talking.
“I— I’m sorry that I called you over here so late, for no reason. I know you probably expected something else than me ranting, but…” you sighed, drawing your knees closer to your chest as you brought your other hand to Sokka’s resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea.”
He sighed at that, but you knew it wasn’t one of disappointment. “You know I’m here for you. I don’t care if you just want to sit in silence for the next five hours while we stare at the wall, or if you want to watch sappy rom coms until your eyes bleed. I’m more than okay with staying like this. I didn’t come over here because I expected anything from you — I came over here because you needed me, and so I’m here.” Sokka smiled, an image you didn’t think would ever stop making you melt, and intertwined your hand with his. “This is perfect. You’re perfect.”
You were so stunned at the brazen declaration that your voice got stuck in your throat for a moment, holding back tears. (Happy tears. They were never anything other than happy tears with Sokka.) It hit you then that you didn’t really know what it was like having someone get close to you without an ulterior motive.
“Thank you,” you murmured after a moment of comfortable silence. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” You knew he was smiling, even without having to look up at him. You could hear it in his voice, feel it in the kiss he pressed to your hairline.
A comfortable silence hung in the air for a long time until you broke it. “You know… my dad kinda ran off to a motel for the night after this whole thing, and my mom leaves early in the morning. If you were serious about those rom coms…” You allowed the unsaid question of staying the night to fester so Sokka knew he could say no if he wanted to, but he didn’t even hesitate.
“Of course I was serious. I mean, I’ve gotta get the ideas for our future wedding from somewhere.”
You laughed, a sentiment that had occurred more times in the ten minutes he had been here than the past week, and picked the remote for your little box TV off of your bedside table. You clicked through various movies until you found one Sokka liked, and then you cuddled deeper into his side to prepare for the ride you had ahead of you.
Thirty minutes into 27 Dresses, he had fallen asleep, arm still around you and one of his legs slightly intertwined with one of your own. But it’s not like you minded — the familiar weight of Sokka in your bed had caused all your worries to melt away, if only for the night.
You didn’t expect him to last past the first movie, but you were sure you would at least get through until Katherine Heigl got the man. But there was an overwhelming feeling of safety permeating the air with Sokka’s arms around you, and you ended up knocked out before she could even get through all twenty seven dresses.
It wasn’t lost on you how fortunate you were — he didn’t expect anything like that from you, he just wanted you to be safe. He was there for you. You would never understand how you had gotten so lucky with your boyfriend, but you would never stop being grateful for him.
-
this is the most self indulgent thing ive ever written and i am NOT sorry
perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77
atla tags: @marianne1806 @brown-eyed-thang @akiris
#sokka x reader#sokka x you#sokka x y/n#sokka fic#sokka#sokka atla#atla#avatar#avatar the last airbender#avatar fic#atla fic#sadie writes#everyone deserves him.... sokka im sorry u have 100 gfs and bfs
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The Wrong Lifetime – Nine // Wanda Maximoff
chapter eight | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter ten
author’s note: a bit late with the update today, my bad. I’m just very exhausted lol. Hope you like it though! bit beefy, just how i like it 😂
I should have realised Wanda would be a handful after literally grabbing my arse less than a metre away from her fiancé.
The final straw came when we were sat together at a table, talking to a guest who wanted to know more about the wedding plans. Y/B/N had left Wanda alone for the remainder of the evening for God knows what reason, so I was left to babysit her and make sure she didn't do anything stupid. Of course, drunk Wanda was also disobedient as well as truthful and clingy.
As the woman we were sat opposite was talking about her own wedding – the first of three, apparently – Wanda's hand kept playing with mine under the table. I shot her a serious look before slapping it away gently. That wasn't enough though, as several times after, she continued to play with my fingers and intertwine hers in mine.
Not wanting to draw attention, I pushed Wanda's hand under her thigh with hopes she'd keep it there and stop fussing. I didn't think she was even listening to the woman and the story of her wedding dress debacle, as she was leaning on the palm of her hand and watching with boredom.
At one point, just when I thought Wanda was finally behaving, I felt her hand rest on my thigh, creeping up dangerously higher. Clenching my jaw to contain both the arousal and frustration I was feeling, I flicked my foot against hers before stuffing her hand under her thigh again. Glancing at her, she was smiling innocently in my direction.
"I'm sorry, are you okay?" the woman stopped mid-talk, looking to Wanda.
Wanda straightened up in her seat, flashing the woman a bright smile. "Yes. But if I may ask–"
"Oh, no..." I mumbled, already internally facepalming.
"–don't you think my almost sister-in-law is very pretty?"
My head snapped to hers as I attempted to disguise my panic with a nervous smile. The woman looked between us, waiting patiently for Wanda to continue.
"Good looks runs in the family it seems," Wanda said, stretching her hand out to caress my cheek, but I immediately caught it before she could, chuckling awkwardly.
The woman found Wanda's behaviour funny as she nodded in agreement. "The Y/L/Ns are a very good looking family indeed. Especially your fiancé, dear. What a handsome man he is."
Wanda hummed in agreement, but her eyes were only focused on me. Under any other circumstances, I would have appreciated how cute she was and been touched at her words, but now wasn't that time.
"My lovely almost sister-in-law is particularly drunk tonight I'm afraid," I spoke truthfully to the woman, offering an apologetic smile. "I should make sure she's okay."
"Of course," the woman said, nodding. "It was nice speaking to you both."
I smiled in response for both of us before leading Wanda away from the table and to an emptier-looking part of the room. Spinning around, I gave her a disapproving look.
"You can't say that," I said quietly, shaking my head. "Not here. Not now."
She licked her lips, wearing an enchanting smile, unbothered by our surroundings. "I can't help it. I'm so in love with you and you look irresistible tonight, milaya (darling)."
I sighed, my neck growing warm as she watched me with adoration. "Okay, I think it's time to call it a night."
"No, I want to stay," she whined, but I ignored her and turned around to think about how we could leave.
Once again, I felt her hand squeeze my butt and when I turned around to scold her, I saw my brother over her shoulder, approaching us. I forced a smile on my lips and glanced at her with a glare. She grinned in response before joining my side and facing my brother with me.
"Hey, how are you?" he asked when he stopped by us.
"Good," I answered for us both, afraid Wanda would say something suspicious.
He nodded, smiling a little. "Thanks for keeping Wanda company tonight."
Using that as my opportunity, I said, "Yeah, about that. She's kind of drunk, so I think I'm going to take her home."
"Oh," he said with realisation. "I don't mind taking it from here."
I pursed my lips, desperately trying to think of a reason to stay with her. Thankfully, I didn't have to.
"How scandalous of you to want to me somewhere after hours with nobody else around," Wanda poked fun, attempting to make him feel uncomfortable. It worked.
"Oh, no– I didn't mean it like that," he said quickly, flushing at her insinuation. "Never mind." Looking to me, he added, "You should take her home and make sure she's okay. Maybe stay with her until her family gets home so you don't have to head home yourself."
I nodded, ignoring the proud smile on Wanda's lips. "Okay, see you later."
As I led Wanda outside the house and towards the carriages parked outside, I gave her a grateful look.
"Good thinking back there."
She chuckled. "He's so easy to manipulate."
"Not nice," I said, but couldn't stop the amused smile from playing on my lips.
The two of us got in the back of the carriage after I gave the driver her address and settled in. Wanda was quick to tilt my head towards her and connect our lips, but I pulled back quickly, making her frown.
"You've been very frustrating this evening," I said with a warning tone. "We get home and you get to bed. That's it."
"Well, that hardly seems fair," she said with a shake of her head. "I believe I behaved."
I tried not to laugh. "In what world, love?"
She smiled widely, eyes darting to my lips. "Some alternate universe."
"Smooth," I played along, before facing forward. "Sober up, dear. The ride isn't long."
When we reached her house, it was a struggle getting her to her bedroom, but it was an even bigger struggle getting her dressed. I managed to get her dress off, but she kept trying to kiss me as I tried to put her nightgown on. Between fits of laughter, she pushed my hands away and made me step back.
Hands on my hips, I stared down at her with a ghost of a smile on my lips. "Are you done? You can't just sleep in your bra and knickers."
She laughed, sat on the edge of her bed and looking up at me with tired eyes. "One kiss and I'll let you dress me."
"Definitely no." I shook my head. "We both know what happens after one kiss."
"When will there ever be an opportunity where we're alone together in my home?" she tried to make a point, but her accent was especially heavy, entwined with her drunkenness and making it harder to believe her logic.
I rested my hands on her shoulders and leaned my forehead on hers, staring into her eyes with amusement. "My beautiful love, you are drunk. We will not have sex when you're drunk."
Her hands tugged me closer by the waist as she smiled up at me. "But I know what I want. And I'm certain it's you."
"Not now," I repeated, removing her hands from my waist.
She pouted and I chuckled before kissing it away. Her tantrum seemed to tire her out as I was able to get her dressed after that, managing to tuck her under the covers.
"Stay with me," she mumbled, fingers clawing the air as a gesture for me to join her.
Nobody would be back for a while, I realised, and nobody was home.
"Fine," I gave in quickly, before kicking off my shoes and jumping into the bed beside her.
She grinned, snuggling into my side and breathing out contently. "Ya tak sil'no tebya lyublyu (I love you so much)."
I kissed the top of her head, holding her close and hoping she couldn't hear the rate of my heartbeat pick up. "I love you, too, Wanda."
We stayed like that, in each other's arms, until I sadly had to get up and leave her. She was asleep by the time her family returned, her face relaxed and without the constraints of reality. I smiled to myself, feeling overwhelmed with how much I was in love with her. I was lucky to have met her, I knew that much, but I was also unlucky to have met her under our circumstances.
As usual, I couldn't help but wonder what could have happened if we weren't in the wrong lifetime...
I kissed her once more, whispering an 'I love you' to her, before leaving the room and wondering if one day I might be able to stay under the covers with her, cuddling until I fell asleep, too.
—
"It won't take long, I just need to give him this," Wanda said nonchalantly, referring to the notebooks in her hand. "Then we can grab lunch."
I nodded and the two of us walked down the street until we located the Maximoff Publishing House. I'd been here a few times when visiting my brother and it always gave me a fuzzy warm feeling, my brain formulating daydreams where I could be published, too. But that's all they were – daydreams.
Wanda held the door open for me as I walked in and I gave her an appreciative smile before she followed after. She led the way to her brother's office at the back of the building and we passed several desks – editors, authors and other employees alike – before reaching it. Through the window, Wanda and I could see Pietro sat behind his desk, pen working away at some papers.
"Piet," Wanda called, knocking on the door.
He looked up and grinned, instantly motioning for us to come inside. I followed after Wanda and closed the door behind us before stopping in front of his desk.
"Y/N, I'm so glad you came!" he exclaimed, standing up and stretching out his hands ecstatically. "I didn't think you would if I'm being honest."
I tilted my head, bemused. "Er... pardon?"
"Piet, she doesn't–" Wanda started, making me look to her. She cut herself off with a sigh, massaging the bridge of her nose and shaking her head. "Oh, God."
"I'm not sure what's happening here," I said with an awkward chuckle, before taking the notebooks from Wanda's hand and dropping them on Pietro's desk, "but these are for you. Wanda said you left them at home."
He chuckled, pushing the notebooks to the side, before reaching into his top drawer and throwing some pages before me. "These are genius, Y/N."
My brows creased together with confusion as I lifted the pages, looking through them to see what had got him all happy. As my eyes skimmed the writing, my heart dropped. This was my writing.
"H-how did you get this?" I stammered, looking up at him.
His eyes flickered to Wanda and I immediately put the pieces together, my gaze falling to her. She smiled bashfully before avoiding my eyes. She'd given him my work without telling me? And she'd tricked me into coming here for this?
"I want to sign you," he stated, clasping his hands together. "Your work is amazing, arguably better than you brother's. You really undersold! And the fact that these are just excerpts means your actual completed work is even better. And I want it here at Maximoff Publishing."
My palms were sweaty as I opened my mouth to say something, but I didn't know what. He wanted to sign me? Like, properly sign me?
"Y/N?" Wanda prompted, making me look her way. She watched with encouraging eyes, nodding to her brother.
I swallowed hard and looked to Pietro. "I'll have to think about it."
My family's reaction would not be kind, I knew that now. All my life I'd been hearing about how it was unladylike and unattractive for a woman to be a writer, how I should just leave the writing to Y/B/N. He was the writer and I needed to get over it because nobody would want to publish me. Yet, here we were.
"Y/N, what are you saying?" Wanda asked, resting a hand on my forearm to get my attention. "You've talked about being published for ages."
I was beginning to regret mentioning that silly fantasy to Wanda. If I'd known she was going to give my work to her brother, I never would have said anything.
"It's fine, Wan, she just needs time to mull it over," Pietro said dismissively, before smiling at me. "I do hope you'll decide soon though."
I forced a small smile his way before turning to leave. When I reached the empty hallway, Wanda was quick to run after me, tugging me backwards so I would face her.
"Why did you do that?" I asked instantly, frowning, feeling betrayed. "What made you think I wanted this?"
Her fingers touched mine gently as she looked between my eyes. "You've told me you wanted this. I know you want this."
I shook my head, letting go of her hand and stepping back. "I can't believe you took my work and gave it to him without asking. You shouldn't have done this, Wanda. You're making waves and–"
"You deserve this," she proclaimed sternly, silencing me. Her eyes were fiery as she stared hard. "You deserve to get the credit, too. Not just your brother. It's about damn time, Y/N."
My lips pressed together firmly as I held her stare, though she was winning as she told me everything I'd wanted to hear. Just once, somebody believed in me, but I was so used to hearing otherwise that it felt foreign.
"Pietro wants to help," she said, expression softening. "He recognises talent and you have it. Maybe I should have asked before giving him your work, maybe I shouldn't have. But I know that it was the only way to push you. You're so content accepting what other people want that you don't chase what you deserve."
Her passion and belief for my work warmed my heart to the core and I was certain that I'd never been more in love with her than I was now. She didn't have to care, but she did. For once, somebody did.
"Nobody will like this," I muttered, half-convinced but still worried about the drawbacks. "It could destroy your brother's career. It could backfire."
Wanda shook her head, stepping forward and resting a hand on my neck, thumb stroking the skin comfortingly. "He wouldn't take the risk if he didn't believe in you."
I placed my hand over hers, taking it between mine as I squeezed it gently, gratefully. I didn't know what else to say, since she'd countered all of my arguments. Everything apart from my family's reaction, which she couldn't control.
"I did this for you," she murmured, before wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me in for a hug. "For you to finally get what you deserve. So that you can make your own money and nobody can take it from you."
She paused as I returned her hug, though I was pondering her words, not knowing she felt that way. It sounded like she'd given this some thought. More than she was letting on.
"Especially if you get married," she added after consideration, and I pulled away, ready to say otherwise, but she closed her eyes and shook her head. "No, I know you don't like talking about it, but it needs to be said." She opened her eyes and I realised they were glassy with unshed tears. "I need you to be okay when it happens. I don't–" She sucked up a breath, smiling to relieve the tension, though it was full of pain. "I don't want some man owning you."
"Any money I make will belong to him anyway," I said, knowing she knew the world we lived in.
A downhearted chuckle escaped her lips. "You wouldn't allow that, Y/N, we both know that."
She wasn't wrong. But the thought of even being married to somebody that wasn't her made my heart crumble in my chest.
"Just think about it, okay?" she asked pleadingly. "Promise me you'll think about it? Properly?"
I nodded, reassuring her with a sad smile. "I will. I promise." She sighed with relief, tense shoulders relaxing. I continued quietly, "Thank you, Wanda. For all of this. For everything."
She nodded, before laughing to distract from the tear that slipped from her eye. I felt bad, but there was nothing I could do. She was so concerned about my future without her and it pained me to see. We never talked about it – an unspoken agreement – because it was too difficult to accept.
"Come on," she said, changing the subject. "Let's go get that lunch we came here for."
—
I hadn't made up my mind about the publishing deal, but I was starting to veer towards a 'yes'.
A few days passed since Pietro made the offer and I hadn't told anybody of it. Only Wanda knew and she hadn't brought it up since, clearly not wanting to pressure me into a decision which I appreciated. It made me realise that I really wanted this for myself. I deserved this for myself, even if I'd been taught otherwise.
It was those few days later when the Maximoffs came over for dinner and it was the first time I'd seen Pietro since he made me the offer. When he greeted me at the door, he smiled brightly.
"I assume you haven't made a decision," he noted.
"You assumed correctly," I said with amusement, though I could tell he really wanted to know.
"Very well," he said with a shrug. "I guess I'll just have to change your mind."
I quirked a brow, wondering what he meant by that, but he simply walked past me and into the living room. Wanda smiled at me next, squeezing my hand and greeting me with a hug.
"You okay?" she asked lowly, a hint of concern in her eyes.
"I'm good," I promised. "Are you?"
"Yes," she said with a small smile. Just like her brother, I could tell she wanted to know what I was thinking.
After our two families conversed in the living room for a while, dinner was served by our servants and we all took to the table to continue our chatter.
"So, Pietro," my father started, looking across the table to him. "How is business going at the publishing house?"
I should have known what he would do when he glanced at me with mischievous eyes.
"It's going great," he answered my father respectfully. "We've actually sought out a new author to add to the list of names we represent."
My eyes widened when I realised what he was doing.
"Oh, really?" my dad asked with surprise. "Who is he?"
Pietro looked in my direction and I forgot how to breathe. "It's actually your daughter, sir."
All eyes fell to me as I locked my gaze on the cutlery beside my plate.
"Y/N? You want to sign Y/N?" asked my dad for clarification.
"I do," he said with a grin, and my face was heating up the longer this conversation went on. "Wanda saw her work and thought I'd be interested. I am. I think she'd make a great fit at our publishing house. And if she has a manuscript to show us, then I'd love to publish it."
"You did this?" Y/B/N asked Wanda with raised brows, jealousy intertwined in his voice.
"Yes, I did," she answered, unaffected by his irritation. "She's really talented."
I risked glancing up, smiling at Wanda appreciatively. She nodded in response, the corner of her mouth lifting adorably, making my heart flutter.
"She really is," Pietro agreed, before looking to my dad who still seemed taken aback. "She probably got that from you. Writing seems to run in the family."
My dad looked at me across the table, his eyes softening. All of our conversations flashed to mind where he claimed he was discouraging me for my own benefit. But now, everything he'd thought wouldn't happen was. Would he still be against the idea?
"D'you really think she'd sell?" he finally spoke, looking to Pietro, and I couldn't contain the smile from my lips.
"Yeah, don't women struggle with their first book?" my brother asked, and when I examined his expression, I saw the distaste.
"I actually think she'd do really well...," Pietro began to explain, before going into a long rant about numbers and sales and past examples.
As he spoke, my brother got progressively more frustrated and I frowned, wondering why he couldn't be supportive like our parents were being. Did he want to be the only author in our family that bad? Or was he just afraid that I wouldn't help him with his own books anymore?
"Thank you for explaining all of that," my dad said once he was done. He smiled, impressed, looking to me. "I actually love the idea."
I felt lightweight when he said that. Things were actually starting to look up for me. My dad was actually supporting my passion and it was all I'd wanted to hear since I was a kid. Trying to hide my elation behind a smile, I took a sip of water.
"Maybe Pietro is just trying to sweeten Y/N up so he can propose," Y/B/N suddenly said, making me choke on my water.
Looking to him with disbelief, he had a friendly smile on his lips, but I saw right through it.
"Y/B/N," Wanda scolded beside him. "Don't joke about that."
"Yeah, I can assure you that's not the case," Pietro added with a chuckle, unfazed by my brother's bitterness.
"I know that," I said reassuringly, before glaring at my brother. "You don't need to dignify him with a response, Pietro."
Changing the subject, my mother spoke up with a laugh. "Well, I think this is delightful. Y/N has always loved to write and I used to think it wasn't an appropriate future for a young woman, but if you are saying it could be, then I'm fully supportive of the idea."
I smiled at her, unable to believe she'd actually said that. She was the last person I thought would approve.
"Pietro has a good eye with these things," Oleg pointed out. "If he thinks it'll be successful, it will be."
My parents began to talk about how writing was something I'd loved for a long time, but I wasn't really listening because I felt overwhelmed with happiness. Pietro caught my eye, winking playfully, and I hoped he knew how grateful I was at what he'd done. Under the table, Wanda's fingers laced through mine and I didn't let go. Giving her a sideways glance, I thanked her with my eyes. She smiled widely and I tried very hard not to kiss her.
"...it's not the conventional route, but Y/N deserves it," my dad said, and I perked up with realisation.
"Maybe Wanda could break the conventional, too," I said, wanting to repay the brunette beside me.
"What do you mean?" she asked with furrowed brows.
I gave her a smile of disbelief. "Wanda, your art. It's stunning. Everything you create could easily sell for hundreds of pounds."
Her lips parted with surprise as she struggled to find words.
"That's not a bad idea, you know," Iryna said with thought. "Especially if Y/N's signing goes to plan."
Oleg groaned playfully, looking to my father. "This is happening so quickly... our girls are growing up, Y/D/N."
My dad chuckled alongside him as I stroked the top of Wanda's hand with my thumb. She squeezed it gently and I smiled to myself.
"You'll make tons of money," I said with certainty. "Your work is incredible, Wanda."
"I'll make enough money to support the both of us," Y/B/N said, doing a terrible job at hiding his frustration.
I looked over Wanda and to him with a hard stare and fake smile. "It's not even about the money to be honest. Maybe it's just about Wanda doing something she loves."
He nodded in agreement, though his eyes glared daggers at me. "I agree. And I won't stop her. But there's no need to sell her work. She can still practice her craft as usual. Heck, I'll even get her a studio."
I quirked a brow challengingly. "And what if she wants to sell it?"
Y/B/N clenched his jaw behind a forced smile. I ignored the warning look Wanda gave me in my peripheral and didn't dare look away from my brother's gaze. This was a side to him that I definitely didn't like.
My mum suddenly laughed to clear the air, but it was nervous and concerned. "Ah, sibling rivalry. Such playful nonsense."
"I believe the dessert is coming out now," my dad added, stealing the Maximoffs' attention away from my brother and I. "We're having soufflé."
With a final glare to my brother, I returned to eating. Any chatter of Wanda and I's potential careers ceased and my parents attempted to make the rest of the meal worthwhile.
As much as I wanted to be excited at the possibility of accepting Pietro's deal, especially since I had my parents' support, I couldn't help but think about what just happened with my brother. What was his problem?
When the meal ended, we all had some tea in the living room before bringing the evening to a close. At the door, we said our goodbyes to the Maximoffs and I was sure to thank Pietro.
"You didn't have to do that back there," I said as we shook hands, "but thank you. I think I know my answer now."
"Anything for my sister's best friend," he said with his signature charming smile. "And I hope it's what I think it is. Though, I suppose you won't tell me now."
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Not now."
"Soon, I hope." He nodded conclusively. "Have a good evening, Y/N."
Wanda shoved him out the way before I could respond before pulling me in for a hug. Pietro didn't seem offended as he gave me a knowing look over her shoulder. I stared back inquisitively, but got distracted when Wanda broke the hug, finding my eyes.
"You okay after what happened?" she asked gently, eyes subtly gesturing to my brother who was bidding her parents a goodbye.
"I'm okay," I reassured her with a smile. "Thanks for tonight."
She returned my smile. "Thank you. I think my parents actually took me seriously for a change."
"It's the least I could do," I told her, fully aware of everything she'd done for me.
Her smile widened, eyes flickering to my lips conspicuously. I shoved her gently, knowing what she was thinking and reminding her that we were in front of both of our families right now. She rolled her eyes playfully before stepping back.
"Such a handful," I mumbled jokingly.
When they left, the first thing Y/B/N did was storm off to his study. My parents exchanged glances before looking to me.
"Be nice," my mum warned.
"We'll see," I muttered under my breath, looking in the direction he'd gone.
Oh, was he about to get a piece of my mind.
#wanda maximoff au#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#scarlet witch imagine#scarlet witch#elizabeth olsen x you#elizabeth olsen x reader#elizabeth olsen#marvel#mcu
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Hi could you please write some hcs for the obey me brothers comforting an MC going through a traumaversary? Send help lol (feel free to ignore this request, I understand that it's a touchy subject! Thanks)
The Demon Bros! Helping MC on a Traumaversary
A/N: I won’t be naming any specific trauma in this, so it’s safe to read and I feel it’s free from triggers, but since it’s about a traumaversary, read at your own risk! overall it’s fluff though
also see: bros comforted by MC , bros comforting MC after a nightmare , lucifer comfort
Lucifer
• As soon as he learned the date he made a note of it, either mentally or in his planner
• Wakes up an hour before he thought you would so that he could make you your comfort breakfast and bring it to you in bed
• Spends the day with you doing whatever you want, and you end up staying cuddled in bed together watching DevilTube
• Does everything he can to keep your mind off the trauma, but if you want to just mourn for a bit he holds you close against his chest and rubs your back, kissing your temple occasionally and making sure you knew you weren’t alone
• At the end of the day you kiss his temple and thank him for staying with you, and he reminds you that today was just one of infinite days that he’ll spend at your side, no matter what
Mammon
• Didn’t know what to do at first, but as your best friend he came up with a gameplan quickly
• He got to breakfast and made you a plate of your favorites, sitting it next to him and sending you a text ‘I got you breakfast, come eat with us :)’
• You roll out of bed and meet him in the dining hall, and couldn’t help but smile when you saw all the brothers sitting around the table waiting for you, and you could tell they were (for once) going to be on their best behavior
• You spend the day with everyone, just talking and spending time together, but it was the perfect way to spend the day
• Mammon walks you to bed (you decide if he spends the night with you to keep you company) and you ask if the day was his planning, and he tries to say it was everyone but you see through his white lie and kiss him on the cheek as a thanks
Leviathan
• At first he plans a day of watching your favorite anime, but realizes that that’s what he would want, not necessarily what you would want
• So he thinks about what he sees you doing often when you have free time, and decides to make loose plans for that instead. It’s your day, whatever you want to do he’ll be right there with you
• He comes to your door around noon with a plate of snacks, water, and your favorite book, movie, game, etc
• You spend the day in your room hanging out with him, and by the end of the day you realized it was the first time you hadn’t cried on your traumaversary since it happened
• You tell him this and you can tell how happy it makes him, and you give him a long hug as thanks for spending the day with you
Satan
• You mentioned that you weren’t able to go to a book signing with him, but danced around why (he put it together almost immediately, you were closer than siblings and you could never hide anything from him)
• He gave you a knowing look and offered to hang out with you instead, and you graciously accept
• After he cooks you your favorite human world breakfast, you spend the day in the library together, going back and forth between reading and discussing different authors and books that you’ve read, and how human world writing compares to demon world writing
• Suddenly you’re yawning and resting your head in his lap, his hand running through your hair
• “I hope you had an alright day today, MC”
• “I did, Satan. More than alright. Thank you”
Asmodeus
• Knows exactly how to get you through the day
• Once he gets his daily good morning text from you (something you started almost immediately after meeting, since you became friends so fast) he went to your room
• Gives you a back rub and plays your favorite music, making you as relaxed as possible before asking what you want to do for the day
• You respond, and he says it sounds like a good plan
• He’s by your side the entire day, and after dinner he draws you a warm bath with your favorite scented bath infusion
Beelzebub
• Similar to Lucifer, he makes a note of the day as soon as he finds out
• He knows you might just want to be alone, but is secretly relieved when you come to him after breakfast
• You don’t say much, and neither does he, but just being in his company is enough to keep you grounded and your thoughts clear
• The day is spent snacking and relaxing, you work through your ‘Watch Later’ que on DevilTube and he watches with you
• You fall asleep in his room, the two of you in bed chatting about anything late into the night as you loved to do together
Belphegor
• You figured you’d spend the day sleeping, but when you knock on his door to nap he greets you much more awake than you expected
• The two of you go on a walk through the forest by the HoL, talking about whatever you want
• The light exercise was exactly what you needed, and the day speeds by without you realizing it
• You get back to the HoL for dinner, and stop Belphie before you walk in
• “Thank you, Belphegor. For spending today with me” you give him a soft smile, your eyes saying the rest of how you were feeling, and he pulls you into a hug
• “Of course, MC. That’s what friends are for”
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me headcanons#obey me headcanon#lucifer obey me#lucifer headcanons#mammon obey me#mammon headcanons#leviathan obey me#leviathan headcanons#satan obey me#satan headcanons#asmodeus obey me#asmodeus headcanons#beelzebub obey me#beelzebub headcanons#belphegor obey me#belphegor headcanons
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BnHA Chapter 302: As the Todoroki Turns
Previously on BnHA:
Today on BnHA: We have a very fun chapter in which (1) Shouto grows up lonely on account of his parents being worried that his siblings will literally try to kill him, (2) Natsu and Fuyu grow up neglected on account of not being special and/or self-destructive enough to attract attention, (3) we get to revisit all of that exciting spousal abuse from chapter 39, and (4) Touya burns to death right on cue, pretty much exactly like we expected it to happen. Thankfully since this is a shounen manga, Horikoshi finds some hope in all this misery as the Todoroki family rallies together, with Shouto getting his long-overdue credit for being a perfect sweet angel who put up with all of this shit for sixteen years and somehow came out of it strong and kind and empathetic and determined. Anyway, so that flashback was a barrel of laughs. But now that it’s over, we can put all of that angst behind us, and move on to... well I guess, probably, more angst. Look, we’re short on variety at the moment. Bear with it.
ouch. we knew this was coming, but still
A+ parenting move there. “ho boy, our eldest just tried to murder our youngest, now what? hmm how about we isolate our youngest from all human contact”
though in their defense, we probably shouldn’t have expected this rabidly strength-obsessed fire man and his wife who was groomed since childhood to obey her family’s whims to have any idea of how to raise stable, well-adjusted offspring
SERIOUSLY YOU GUYS
this is a perfect example of Enji’s tragically self-revolving viewpoint right here. just because being a hero is your entire world doesn’t mean you can just excuse yourself from anything outside of that and act like it’s out of your control. “alas, all I care about is hero stuff and my son can’t be a hero, we are doomed to inhabit two different worlds” no you jackass, it’s called having more than one hobby?? figuring out how to spend some time with your son that doesn’t involve training?? the same exact thing you were telling him to do last week, while ignoring that you’ve never done that yourself in your life??
that said, yet again we have that complexity though because it’s obvious that Enji at least on some level is aware of his own flaws, even though he seems unwilling or unable to confront them. honestly, from what we’ve seen so far, Enji’s obsession with surpassing All Might might be more accurately called an addiction. he literally can’t let go of it even though he’s fully aware of how it’s slowly destroying his life. and so in the same way that a lifelong smoker or alcoholic might tell their child to stay away from cigarettes and booze, Enji tells Touya not to follow down the same path as him, even though he himself doesn’t know how to leave that path. so yes, it’s hypocritical as fuck, but there’s also an element of helplessness there as well because Enji literally doesn’t know how not to be like this
though all the same he sure could stand to put in more than just a token effort. but it is what it is, and we already know how much he’ll come to regret it
and meanwhile Baby Shouto has frozen his sleep bubble with his quirk lmao. so I guess his quirk did come in early. that’s a recipe for chaos right there
once again Shouto is ruining every single dramatic panel in this flashback
this was so dark and intense... and then I spotted the lil bubs in the corner. Horikoshi please control yourself
“some hero you are, running away” and then all of a sudden, “FIVE YEARS LATER” lol what. OKAY THEN
(ETA: love the confirmation that eight-year-old Natsu comes from the Iida school of puberty and is basically a fully grown man, and meanwhile Touya comes from the hobbit school of puberty and has been perpetually eight for the past five years.)
“HEY BIG BRO WANNA COME RECREATE AN ICONIC FLASHBACK SCENE WITH US. WE’VE GOT THE SOCCER BALL RIGHT HERE, BUT HURRY UP OR WE’LL BE TOO LATE FOR SHOUTO TO WALK ON BY AND STOP TO LOOK”
lol and that’s literally the next three panels. but Horikoshi did add this extra bit after Endeavor starts to drag Shouto away
seriously Enji what the hell did you expect was going to happen here. “Touya went nuts and tried to kill his little brother out of jealousy, so let’s make it clearer than ever that Shouto is the important child and all the other children are just rejects. this will definitely not make the problem 100x worse, and will surely lead to Touya giving up and living a happy life, having been emotionally abandoned by the person he admired more than anyone.” good for you pal you figured it all out. no need for that plan b, “we all just go to therapy”
anyway so he’s telling Shouto he can’t play because he needs more endurance training. and meanwhile Touya’s patented Todoroki Drama Genes are going through puberty as well
definitely the face of a happy, emotionally stable child who’s not still plotting to murder his younger brother in his sleep
“WELL ACTUALLY MAKESTE” lol I stand corrected??
apparently during the five year interim Touya actually stopped blaming Shouto and realized Enji was the one at fault. good for him! a bit inconsistent, given what we know happens later, but I assume we’ll get to that in good time
anyway. “yeah man I agree that dad sucks, but it’s the middle of the night and I’m only eight and you’ve been monologuing for the past two hours bro”
LMAO
the manga is making my jokes for me, only better. fine then
looks like someone’s still miffed about that disagreement he had with his baby sister back when she was like four
“Fuyu doesn’t get properly riled up like I want her to so ranting to her is annoying.” okay but having been in Fuyu’s shoes, it really is just a different way of coping, and I can guarantee she’s not as fine with the whole situation as Touya might think. but making your peace with something is often a decision that’s made for emotional self-preservation reasons. and I sure as hell don’t fault her for trying to shut out a situation that she had no control over, and trying to make the best of it, and scrape together as normal a childhood as she could manage
and now in Touya’s defense as well, that is of course easier said than done, and I’m sure if there was a “push this button and instantly get over all of the trauma in your life” switch readily available for Touya then he would have pushed it too. unfortunately it’s not always that simple
so now Rei is pleading with Touya not to go train up on his little emo hill again, but it doesn’t seem like much has changed since he was eight
I don’t think he gives two figs about being a hero; he just wants his father to look at him again with pride. fucking hell, stop doing this to me you damn Todorokis
guh, they keep telling him the same thing over and over again
even if we hadn’t already known he was gonna go melt his jawbone off soon, I wouldn’t have expected a line like that to go over well
yep. fuck
that Todoroki puberty angst, though. nothing else quite like it
“you have a part in this too, Mom” ooooooh man
okay but look, he’s not entirely wrong. like, I’m not saying any of this is Rei’s fault at all! she’s in an impossible situation where she’s afraid to stand up to Enji (who by this point has shown that he’s willing to physically attack her if things get too heated, which is terrifying), and doesn’t really have anywhere to turn for support. her parents aren’t helping much if at all, and Japan in general is just a terrible country to be in when you’re in a domestic abuse situation. everyone’s expected to put on a brave face and deal with their problems all on their own in private. Rei is basically completely isolated at this point, and she doesn’t know what else to do, and so she’s just trying to keep the situation as stable as possible for the kids
but on the other hand, “for the kids” is also where that argument starts to break down a bit, because at this point Shouto is also being physically abused by his father, and the other kids are continuing to be neglected (emotionally if not physically), as they have been for years. so the situation really isn’t stable at all for them. and as a kid, what you end up learning in that type of situation is that you can’t rely on either parent. not the abusive one, certainly, but also not the other one who can’t protect you from any of it. even if they love you and they’re trying, they’re just as helpless as you. Rei is struggling to deal with all of this with one hand tied behind her back, and I get it, and I’m not blaming her at all. but all the same, particularly given that she’s (understandably) putting almost all her focus on Shouto, the end result is that the other kids have basically been left to fend for themselves
so yeah! a shitty situation all around. and one of those cases where it’s not really anyone’s fault (aside from Enji’s), but I can understand the resentment Touya is feeling all the same. and I’m so glad Horikoshi is acknowledging this, because it’s something I probably would have been too uncomfortable to bring up otherwise. as it is it’s still an incredibly heavy subject, and one that I probably have too many personal feelings about
anyway, so once again the whole “we’ll try talking to him and then just shrug our shoulders when it doesn’t work” parenting strategy doesn’t really pan out for the Todoroki fam
sob this boy is Anakin Skywalkering before our very eyes. all that’s missing is AFO to come and start whispering in his ear. any minute now...
“anyway so then he got taller and his fire changed from red to blue”
guess we’re getting pretty close then huh. this is the part of the flashback that I really don’t want to see, but also unfortunately the part that I’m most curious about :/
oh for fuck’s --
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN IGNORING HIM FOR FIVE YEARS DIDN’T ACTUALLY DO ANYTHING TO SOLVE THE PROBLEM” sob. back to the drawing board I guess
I thought he got taller, why is he still only like a third of Enji’s height here
oh fuck me these are armor-piercing feels. this is the heavy artillery right here
ENJI I’M BEGGING YOU PLEASE STOP AND THINK FOR ONE MOMENT IN YOUR LIFE BEFORE DOING SOMETHING YOU’LL REGRET FOR THE REST OF ALL TIME. your child just told you that he still thinks beating All Might is the only thing you care about, and that he believes his existence is a mistake unless he finds some way of doing that for you. please stop for a moment to contemplate that and choose your next words with care and grace and oh who the hell am I kidding
-- OR WE COULD JUST BLAME REI
go on and blame everyone but yourself then!! that’s a great solution!! jesus christ man I know this is Endeavor at his literal worst but still this is fucking hard to watch
POOR BABY SHOUTO IS YELLING AT HIS DAD NOT TO HIT HIS MOMMY THIS LITTLE BRAVE BOY NEEDS SO MANY HUGS OH MY GOD
AND MEANWHILE THE OTHERS ARE HUDDLED IN THE NEXT ROOM TRYING NOT TO CRY AH FUCK
(ETA: Fuyu covering Natsu’s ears cuts RIGHT TO THE CORE OF ME. Horikoshi if you’re really not gonna get these kids some therapy then at least consider giving your readers some. what is this.)
you know it’s bad when you’re starting to think the part where the kid burns to death might actually be a less traumatic thing to cut to right now
holy shit, actual Rei thoughts
“I was the one who ultimately made that choice” well there we go, wonder if that’ll put that whole argument to bed at last. I doubt it, but you never know. actually who am I kidding it’s not gonna settle jack shit lol
oh thank god, they decided it was getting too intense and cut away back to the present to narrate this next (final?) part
get ready to cue up that Alicia Keys. THIS BOY IS ON FIREEEEEEE
yeah I think that’s one thing we can mostly all agree on. neither of them had any clue what the fuck they were doing pretty much at any point. though I will say that the hypocrisy of him being all “WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP HIM” followed by him IMMEDIATELY DOING THE EXACT SAME THING is a bit rich
(ETA: and he still has this problem, doesn’t he? he froze up when Ending snatched Natsuo, and again when Dabi was attacking Shouto. he’s so afraid of doing the wrong thing that he ends up not doing anything, which of course is exactly what led to Touya’s death. damn Enji I guess you’ve still got some additional character development to unlock.)
and of course neither of them could possibly have known how badly it was going to turn out. like, the consequences here were WAY disproportionate even for the shittiest of parenting. no one expects “I didn’t know how to talk to my son” to snowball into “my son burned to death and then somehow came back as a villain and murdered thirty people”
ohhhhhhhh fuck me
LITERALLY INCINERATED THE ENTIRE HILLSIDE. fuck. and I am so not ready for the scene of Enji finding the remains of his jawbone afterwards. at least we were spared anything super-graphic (for now at least)
I feel like the timeline here is off, btw?? wasn’t Touya’s death supposed to happen after Rei got hospitalized? this might be the first actual retcon of the entire flashback. although I think it makes more sense this way tbh
I do appreciate that ten years later Enji is finally reflecting on the fact that if he’d just given up his stupid obsession he could have stopped his family from crumbling apart. that probably sounds sarcastic as fuck, but it’s not. there are countless jerks out there who would have still managed to find a way to blame literally everyone and everything under the sun except for themselves. at least he finally figured out how to take responsibility, even if it came too late to stop his son from dying and being radicalized into a villain terrorist organization
and speaking of, it seems to me we’re missing a third and final part to this little tale of woe, and one which only Touya himself will be able to shed any light on. so we’ll see how that goes
oh man seeing the other kids blaming themselves even though none of it was their fault hits hard af. Rei wasn’t kidding when she said they’d been bearing that burden of guilt far longer than Enji
SHOUTO I SWEAR TO GOD IF THE NEXT PANEL IS YOU APOLOGIZING FOR BEING BORN, I WILL... WELL I’LL BE VERY SAD, I GUESS. SO DON’T DO IT
oh good he’s just being quiet. good. it absolutely is not your fault lil bean. it’s not theirs either, but feeling guilty about things that aren’t your fault is a time-honored shounen tradition
goddammit I braced myself for the angsty Shouto panel a page too early. gotta do it all over again now lol. okay here goes
;_;
well well well would you look at that
imagine that. talking things out with your child before they make a rash decision. looks like the Todorokis’ parenting skills are finally leveling up
OH MY GOD
holy shit. this is the most quintessential moment of father/son Todoroki bonding in the entire series. for me it even tops the “nice scar” scene lol. Enji sobbing at the fact that he still has a chance to set things right. and Shouto offering his hand in what is actually the most mature and selfless gesture I’ve ever seen, and being all “we’ll stop him together” to his dad who he hates, but also doesn’t really entirely hate anymore. and all of that is incredibly moving... BUT ALSO HE STILL REFUSES TO MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH HIM AND HE WOULD LIKE HIM TO STOP BEING SO FUCKING DRAMATIC ALREADY IF YOU DON’T MIND. “WHEN YOU’RE DONE CRYING...” fkjldsk
OH MY FUCKING LORD
(ETA: wouldn’t be a Todoroki drama fest if there wasn’t somebody listening in on the whole thing in secret just around the corner lmao.)
“you think we should have waited somewhere else?” “yeah, probably.” “are you feeling a lot of secondhand embarrassment too?” “god, you have no idea.” STFU HAWKS IT’S NOT EMBARASSING TO BE MOVED TO TEARS BY YOUR FAMILY ALL COMING TOGETHER IN YOUR DARKEST HOUR TO GIVE YOU HOPE THAT YOU PROBABLY DON’T DESERVE BUT ARE NONETHELESS INDESCRIBABLY GRATEFUL FOR
and anyway you chose these guys as your found family, bucko. too late to back out now. next time go get yourself adopted by the Iidas then
AND MEANWHILE NO WORD ON THE WHOLE “HOW DID A THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD SURVIVE A FIRE THAT COVERED HIS BODY WITH HORRIFIC SCARS AND MELTED HIS JAW OFF, AND HOW DID HE SOMEHOW THEN MANAGE TO GO INTO HIDING FOR TEN WHOLE YEARS, AND WHAT HAPPENED IN THAT INTERIM TO CHANGE HIS GOAL FROM ‘SURPASS ALL MIGHT TO IMPRESS MY DAD’ TO ‘KILL ALL HEROES TO MAKE MY DAD SUFFER’.” as if we don’t know the answer to that. but still, would it kill Horikoshi to just confirm AFO’s involvement in all of this already. at this point it’s basically just a formality
so here’s hoping next week we’ll either get that, or more Hawks action, or (DARE I EVEN SUGGEST, I’M AFRAID TO JINX IT) finally cut back to Bakugou and Deku and All Might omg. either way I’m hyped
#bnha 302#todoroki touya#dabi#todoroki enji#endeavor#todoroki rei#todoroki shouto#todoroki natsuo#todoroki fuyumi#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#bnha manga spoilers#makeste reads bnha#my sincerest apologies for this absurdly long recap which is barely funny at all!#THERE WAS VERY LITTLE HUMOROUS CONTENT IN THIS CHAPTER#congratulations horikoshi you win this round
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The Scientist
(Hange (Hanji) can rearrange by guts tbh :P Lol, anyways, this is a Yandere Hanji x Female Reader story! It takes place in current time tho (same universe as Yelena). Also, idgaf how tall the creator says Hanji is. In this fic, even the tall girlies get to be shorter than Hanji.
TW: kidnapping!, !drugging!, unwanted advances, stalking!, etc!
Please proceed with caution! Also, I’m sorry if you can tell that this was in my drafts for a hot min. I started to write this when I first started this blog, and I just finished/revised it lol. )
“Hey, (Nickname!” Hearing the loud shout of a certain brunet, you jump about a foot in the air. As usual, Hanji decides to surprise you whilst you’re in the middle of something.
Pulling away from the microscope you’re currently looking at, you put on a strained smile, “Yes?”
Their one eye sparkles in a hopeful fashion from behind their glasses, one of her their fiddling with their eyepatch, “Sooo,” They draw out the o, seemingly trying to disarm you, “Are you free this weekend? There’s this suuuuper cool bar that’s just opening, and me and the others are thinking about going! It’s totally not a date or anything,” They pause to let out a loud laugh, “I think it’ll be fun! What D'ya say?”
Forcing out a chuckle, you shake your head, “Ah, I’m sorry, Hanji, but I’m busy this weekend. I have a lot of samples I need to process for that upcoming court case,” You chew your bottom lip nervously, “I’m sorry. I hope you and the others have a good time, though!”
A new voice is heard, butting into your conversation, “I can do those! I’ve been needing more hours, anyways,” Whipping your head in the direction of the voice, you silently curse. Fuck Armin for being so helpful!
Hanji beams even brighter than before, clapping their hands together happily, “See! Armin can do that for you!” They lean in closer to you, their lab coat brushing against yours, “Come on, (Nickname), I’d be reaaaaally happy if you go!”
An uneasy feeling pools in your gut, as an anxious sweat begins to bead at your brow, “I-uhm-I suppose I can go for an hour or two.”
“Great!” They grab your hands in theirs, squeezing them in a friendly manner, “The bar is called ‘Titan’s Wrath,’ and we’re meeting at eight on Saturday!” Releasing you, they pat you on the back, “See you later!” They run off, most likely back to the dry lab.
After a moment of silence, you slowly turn towards the short haired blond man, “Armin, I’m going to kill you.”
He blanches at your blunt tone, flushing a bright red, “Wha-what?”
You grit your teeth, tears starting to bead your eyes in frustration, “They’re the person I was telling you about! Hanji constantly harasses me, and you practically just tossed me into their arms! Why would you do that?”
A look of pure terror and remorse appears of his face, “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t realise that they were the person-oh my God, I’m so stupid. I-I really didn’t know! I’m so, so sorry!” You let out a quivering breath, hands clenched into fists to calm you down.
“It-it’s alright. I never really told you who they were. Just never do that again, okay? If you need more hours, just tell me, and I’ll see what I can do,” The younger man sighs in relief, shoulders deflating.
“I promise to never do that again!” You nod, blinking away your unshed tears, and smile at him.
“Okay, then we don’t have any problems,” You laugh lightly, shaking your head, “Who would’ve thought our newest intern was the dry lab’s wing man?” He panics again, making you cackle good-naturedly, “Now, can you please grab the dilluter? I forgot to grab it from the fridge.”
-
Hanji, being the ever cheerful person that they are, set their sights on you the moment you were hired.
But, if they came out with their feelings immediately, you’d just assume that they wanted to take advantage of you.
So, they watched you. Writing down your likes and dislikes, your quirks, everything. Through their ‘research,’ they came to realise that you’re very good at your job. The wet-lab should be lucky that they have you… but they never give you the recognition you deserve!
They bombard you with assignments, become upset when you don’t finish them in seconds (which is so unreasonable!), and hardly give you any time off!
You don’t seem to mind, being the good girl you are, but Hanji sure does!
So, they’d seek out the top graduates from the college nearby, and help them become employed at the lab. The newbies really helped get the load off of your shoulders, and once done, they decided to swoop in now that you had a decent amount of free time.
It started at the vending machine- they’d asked you if you wanted to get coffee with them sometime. You said no, probably because you felt it wasn’t professional. After all, rumours would spread like wildfire if you went out with the lead lab tech of the dry lab!
So, everytime they knew you had a weekend off, they’d approach you with new places to try.
Be it a movie, a store, a concert- it didn’t matter. They just desperately wanted to have some time with you!
But, you reacted the complete opposite of how you were supposed to.
You’d pick up as many shifts as possible, most times going into over time, just to avoid the flamboyant lead. Whenever you saw them in the hall or by the break room, you’d turn in the complete opposite direction. If wet-lab needed to correspond with the dry-lab, you’d send your most qualified coworker to do so.
It was saddening, to be honest. They love you so much, yet you refuse to even face them.
But, thanks to that Armin kid, their plans can finally bloom into fruition. For once, you can’t escape the brunet’s advances!
Because of that, Hanji made a note to the owner of the lab that Armin would make a good contribution to the lab after he gets all of his qualifications.
-
Saturday night comes far too soon.
Dressed in black skinny jeans and a cropped, white long sleeve, you stand in front of ‘Titans Wrath.’ Scoffing at how the bar sounds like a metal band, you make your way inside.
Grabbing the door handle, you yank it open, immediately hearing loud rock music. Mentally patting yourself on the back for your observation, you step inside of the cool building.
Looking inside, you see a large, double sided bar in the middle of the room, a stage and standing area just behind it. There are a few pool tables in the front area where you’re standing, along with double doors leading to a hidden kitchen.
There’s also a lot of people inside. You can’t see Hanji or their friends, but seeing a band setting up on the stage tells you that they’re probably on the other side of the bar.
Walking over to the steps leading down into the stage area, you try to ignore the leers of a few men around you. Maybe you shouldn’t have worn clothes that accentuate your beautiful figure. Peering around the corner, you see the scientist and their friends, an empty seat in between them and a large blond man, that you vaguely recall being the police chief of your city.
Strolling towards them halfheartedly, you give yourself a small peptalk inside of your mind. Sure, Hanji has always been touchy-feely with you, sure, they’ve asked you out about one hundred times, sure, you run into them every time you leave the house, sure-
“(Nickname)! You actually came!” The brunet’s voice is loud, loud enough to cut through the loud music and equally loud chatter. Forcing a smile onto your face, you give a small wave, suddenly uncomfortable with the line of strangers at the bar suddenly looking at you.
“Yes, hello, Hanji,” When you’re close enough, you’re thrown into a tight embrace, their body practically molding into your own. They’re about a head taller than you, making it so your head is practically forced against their protruding collarbones. Hesitating slightly, you give them a soft pat on the back, trying to escape their suffocating embrace.
“I’m so glad you came!” They release you just as suddenly as they grabbed you, putting a hand on the small of your back, and practically forcing you in between the blond man and themself, “(Nickname), this is Erwin. Erwin, this is (First Name).”
His blue eyes rake over your appearance, recognition appearing on his face, “It’s nice to see you again, Ms. (Last Name), especially under better circumstances.”
You nod, thinking back on some high profile cases you met with him for, “Yes, it’s nice to see you again, Mr. Smith.”
A loud scoff is heard from beside Erwin, the head of a short, dark haired man peeks around the broad chested man, “It’s about time you brought a respectful brat,” You have to stop yourself from flinching at his harsh tone, “I am Levi,” Opening your mouth to introduce yourself, he holds up a hand, halting you, “There’s no need for introductions, Shitty-glasses has gushed about the ‘pretty wet-lab scientist’ for months now.”
“Oh, alright. It’s nice to meet you,” His lifts his whiskey on rocks in acknowledgement, before downing it with one swig.
“Likewise,” After that, he turns towards a light brown haired woman, her high pitched voice is heard from where you’re sitting.
“I’m sorry about that. The detective is very… unsociable.”
“It’s alright, Mr. Smith. He kind of reminds me of one of my interns, Annie,” You say with a small smile, before your swiveling bar stool is forced around so you’re facing Hanji.
“Sooo, you like the bar so far?” Their smile is somewhat pleading, and you can’t help but just go along with them.
“Yes, this place is, um, cool. Very interesting choice,” They clasp their hands together with a pleased expression, as they somehow move closer to you than they already are. At this point, you’re worried that they’ll fall off their stool.
“Right? Our residential emo boy found it, and we’ve been hooked ever since,” A loud ‘Shut up, Shitty-glasses,’ is heard from behind you, making the brunet laugh, “Let me order you a drink! I think there’s something that you’ll really like!”
Opening your mouth to reject, it was seemingly too late, because the brunet has already waved over a punk-ed out bartender. You didn’t really hear what the drink is called, but the man sets to work immediately.
It barely takes a minute for it to be finished, and the purple drink is suddenly in front of your motionless form. Looking up, the purple haired man winks at you, before turning his attention back to a speaking Hanji.
“Anything she orders, put it on my tab,” He nods, before walking off to service another customer.
Turning your attention back to Hanji, you try to persuade them to let you pay, “Thanks, Hanji, but it’s alright. I can pay for my own drinks-”
“Don’t worry about it; I asked you out, remember? And it’s the least I can do for harassing you for the past few months,” Startled by their uncharacteristically somber words, you nod in understanding.
“Alright. Thank you,” They nod, before motioning towards your drink.
“Try it! I’m sure you’ll like it!” Grabbing the cool glass cup, you bring it up to your lips, and take a small sip. It’s amazing. It tastes like (favourite flavour), and it goes down smooth.
“You’re right, this is delicious!” They grin brightly, clapping their hands together in glee.
“Great!” They motion towards the stage with their head, “The show’s about to start! Are you ready for a kickass night?” You laugh at their vigour, and nod.
“You bet!”
Maybe tonight won’t be so bad after all.
-
You spoke too soon.
It seems like you’ve drank too much, because you’re now feeling dizzy. Throughout the set, you’d ordered about five more drinks, and they seemingly hit you all at once.
Hanji, who’s been watching you since your fourth drink, feigns shock at your unstable form. That Rohypnol they grabbed from work works quite well! Now they can see why it’s the choice drug for those awful, awful people.
“Whoa there, (Nickname), it seems you’ve had too much to drink!” Hanji jokes, hands holding you steady on your bar stool. The only person from your group still at the bar is Erwin, but he knows they have it under control. As chief of police, he feels a bit of remorse, but he knows it's for the best. Hanji will take care of you, because, after all, you’re their only true obsession.
“Wha-huh? Was’ happenin?” Hanji can all but coo at how cute you are.
“Don’t worry, cutie. I’ll get you home safe,” Helping you to your boot clad feet, they send a knowing look to Erwin, who smiles in return. Wrapping an arm around your waist, they help you stumble out of the bar, and walk towards their car. Once at the passenger side, the brunet unlocks the door, and assists you inside. You flop onto their leather interior, eyes unfocused, and body movements random. Chuckling to themself, they buckle you in, not before pulling on gloves, and taking your phone, keys, and wallet off of you.
Taking these items, they empty your wallet of its cash, and chuck everything into a nearby bush. Knowing that the cameras outside the building and the buildings surrounding the place are off, they feel at ease. If anything, they feel like your knight in shining armour. If they hadn’t taken you, someone else would’ve-you’re just too cute.
Closing your door, and rounding the car, they slide into the driver’s side, before starting the car. Buckling themself in, they look at your out-of-it form, and smile.
#yandere hange#hange zoe#yandere hange zoe#yandere aot#yandere aot x reader#hange x reader#hange supremacy#yandere attack on titan#attack on titan x reader
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hi! i just came across your page the other day and i’ve read all of your drabbles and stories multiple times lol! so for my ask, i would love it if you did a college AU with popularjock!jk and have it be similar to the movie ‘A Cinderella Story’. some angst with smut and a happy ending if possible! oh and bestfriendjimin! as well :) hope this is not too much to request! ily
At the stroke of Midnight
Pairing: Jungkook x f reader
Summary: One popular boy + One 'uncool' girl + One school dance + One necklace left behind = A cinderella story.
Genre: Angst / Fluff / Smut / Cinderella au / A Cinderella story au / comedy / popular jock jungkook / best friend Jimin
Warnings: Suggestive language / sex
Rating: 18+ (NSFW)
Word Count: 4k
Beta reader: @casuallyimagining
A/N: I am so sorry this has taken me so long! I had no clue about this film, so writing this entailed some research and me watching the movie...twice haha. I really hope I did it justice for you and you enjoy it. Thank you for the request!
"So, what's prince charming saying now that's so much more important than your best friend?" Jimin pouts, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly.
You flush slightly. "He wants to meet." Grimacing at the words.
"And that's a problem, why?"
You bury your head in your hands. "Because I'm me and I'm certainly no one special, what if he's disappointed?" You groan, the dilemma churning your gut and making you feel like your breakfast could make a second appearance.
"Hey," Jimin scoots closer to you along the bench and throws an arm around your shoulder. "No best friend of mine gets away with speaking about herself like that. You are lovely, and if he thinks you're anything other than amazing, there's something wrong with him and he needs to be studied in a lab."
You laugh in spite of yourself, hearing Jimin’s words rattle around in your brain, knowing that you should not be this hard on yourself. You lean into his snug embrace.
You open up Tumblr and stare at the conversation between you and @gameoverguk. Your favourite gaming blog you’ve followed for ages, by chance seeing your gaming fan art and following you back was one thing, but conversing with him and finding out that he also attended your school was a completely different matter. Trying to solve the equation of who this mysterious creator might be is harder than you thought. And the way he converses with you, so open and honest and sweet, that had to narrow it down surely?
Something slams into your back, pain immediately in its wake. You and Jimin turn to see the popular boy of your university, Jungkook, gawking at you and his best friend Taehyung in hysterics.
Jimin looks down in the grass behind you at the offending apple and calls, “Hey, watch it guys.”
“Really sorry!” Jungkook calls over, a slight dusting of scarlet across his cheeks but looks like he’s also fighting a laugh. It burns you how someone so smug can still be so handsome, and you hate yourself for even thinking about him in any way other than the airhead jock that he is.
Taehyung jogs over and picks it up, still somewhat amused. “What, didn’t your crystal ball tell you that was gonna happen?” He says to you, loud enough for everyone in a mile radius to hear.
You cringe inwardly, attempting to fight your embarrassment.
“Aren’t you supposed to be one of the top athletes in this university? And you can’t even catch an apple.” Jimin snarks in your defense.
His face drops as he looks like he’s about to take a step towards you both.
“Tae!” Jungkook calls, an air of command in his voice, breaking the tense air as he looks away from you ruefully. Walking off with Taehyung following, eating his apple and laughing between bites.
“Ignore them.” Jimin says sternly. “Speaking of, are you working tonight?”
Your face falls into an unamused expression, as if he even had to ask.
You were working so much you were almost taking residence at your step-mums 'magic shop', as everyone called it.
He smiles at you, his nose wrinkling, and you can’t help your face softening.
“Ok, ok, my bad. Can I swing by later? I need some more incense.”
You shrug, grabbing your bag and chucking it over your shoulder. “Sure. I’d be glad of the company to be honest.”
“Ooooh, maybe we could do a seance?”
You glare at him and head off to class causing his melodious laugh to ring out around you.
Sitting in the bleachers after class, with your sketchpad and pencil, the perfect view of the city line and the departing sun staring back at you, you sketch away. The pencil etching fast across your paper as you manage to block out the sounds of the team practicing and their bodies crashing against each other.
Long after you've lost yourself in your landscape, fingers grey and shiny from shading, you neglect to hear some of the team members leaving, climbing over the seats and headed in your direction. That is until your pad is snatched from underneath you as you frantically grapple for it, without success.
"You know, this isn't where the nerds hang out." Taehyung smirks at his two other buddies, clearly impressed with himself.
You let out a bored sigh. "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realize you owned the bleachers." Your words drip with sarcasm.
His face drops and a mean glare spreads across his features as he throws your drawing pad in the air. You watch helplessly as the pages flutter in the wind as it flies away and disappears under the stands.
"Have a nice night." He says quietly, an attempt to be intimidating, as him and his friends leave.
Your veins alight with fury, hands balled into fists at your sides. You wanted to stamp your feet like a petulant child. This isn't fair. Why you?
It's only then you notice Jeon Jungkook standing on the field watching. Embarrassment suddenly extinguishes your angry flames as he breaks your gaze first, walking off under the bleachers. You grab your bag to leave for work before you suffer any more humiliation.
As you reach the last step you yelp with surprise as Jungkook appears suddenly in your view, you manage to steel yourself before tumbling into him.
You stare at him, wishing he'd get on with it and tease you so you can go...but it doesn't come. Instead he hands you your sketchpad, gently dusting off the pages.
You take it, a hesitant, "thanks," ghosts from your lips.
"I'm sorry about him." He says quietly.
You shrug. "Not your fault, I guess."
Seconds tick by as you both stare awkwardly at each other, unsure what else could be said.
"You're pretty. I-I mean, it-it's pretty." He stammers, tapping the unfinished sketch in your book. "You're very talented."
Your cheeks flush an undignified fuchsia as you duck your head slightly, letting your hair hide you. "Thank you."
He offers you a weak smile before giving you a halfhearted wave and jogging off across the field, leaving you watching his back, perplexed at the exchange you've had.
You stare at your messages, every moment he can see you're online and not replying makes your cheeks flush crimson and makes your mind run frantic.
Meet me at the Happy Holidays dance.
Could you?
It’s the first holiday dance your university has put on--one you had no intention of going to, because you frankly didn't need the added teasing from the popular kids. It is a masquerade ball however, so no one had to know it was you, you could fall pleasantly under the radar.
Were you really considering this?
What did you have to lose? You can hide behind the comfort of your mask. If he discovers it's you, it's his problem if he doesn't like that, Jimin is absolutely right.
Ok. Where will I find you?
You press send and chuck your phone down, throwing your head in your pillow to scream. Did you actually just do that!? No taking it back now, it's out there.
When you hear your text tone sound you scramble quickly back to it.
By the old sundial outside. At 10.00?
You grin dorkishly at your phone, typing a quick reply.
Sure. See you then.
You call your number one speed dial, two rings in and Jimin's voice sounds.
"I was just going to call you, how strange. Listen, do you remember that time I-?"
"I'm in need of some urgent assistance. I just agreed to go to the holiday dance!"
He cackles excitedly on the other end. "I'll be right over!"
As you step out of Jimin's car you have to lift your ice blue dress up to avoid the floor...and tripping. How Jimin pulled this costume together in time, you'll never know, he's taking that secret to the grave.
You swallow the nervous lump in your throat and adjust your matching lace mask, making sure it's comfortable.
"Ok, go get him tiger." He roars, as he swipes a clawed hand in front of you.
You giggle at his silly antics and take a deep breath before giving him a final nod and heading into the dance.
From the moment you walk in, you want to go home. This is a bad idea. He won't be interested when he finds out it's really you.
You have no time to continue your anguished thoughts as you get swept up in the crowd, fighting your way through to grab a drink. Standing to the side and surveying everyone's costumes, noticing a lot of dark or bright colour choices, you being one of the only people in a pale colour, making you stand out more. Something you were definitely hoping to avoid.
A few songs later and the clock in the hall catches your eye, noticing you had fifteen minutes until you meet your mystery man.
You head outside, footsteps echoing along the cobbled floor, and see that the outside is empty save for a few smoking and talking.
You get to the large, metal sundial and wait. Stomach churning from the butterflies that swarm wildly inside.
"Blue hour artist?" You hear your Tumblr tag spoken behind you and freeze.
You're about to meet him, come face to face with the person who understands you more than anyone, who opens up to you in ways most people wouldn't and who's creativity knows no bounds.
You turn slowly, not knowing who to expect but definitely not who you're faced with.
"Jeon Jungkook!? You're 'game over guk'?" You ask, your mouth popped open in shock.
He smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, "that's not fair, you're wearing a mask. How will I know who you are?"
You stare at him, trying to find words to answer his question, but the fact that it's him stood before you blows you away.
How could this be? The person you've been talking to online is the complete opposite to Jungkook and yet, here he is, one and the same.
"You'll h-have to guess." You try to get yourself together.
His mouth stretches into a toothy smile. "Ok, how about we play '21 questions' to help me guess?"
You nod, playing with your fingernails out of nerves.
"Do you want to sit down?" He asks, looking over at one of the benches.
"Um, no, I'd rather walk, if you don't mind?"
"Oh, sure." He agrees eagerly and you head off down the pathway around the building.
A few awkward side glances between the two of you and he finally asks, "Do we have any classes together?"
"No."
"Ok, narrows it down slightly."
You take this opportunity to look at what he's wearing and he's every part the Prince charming. In a white satin shirt, with light blue trousers and a one shoulder half capelet to match, complete with silver, trim detail. Surprisingly similar to your choice of dress, what a strange coincidence.
"You take art I assume?" He asks, into the comfortable silence.
You nod. "That's an obvious one." You refer to your Tumblr page full of your fan art and projects.
He smiles bashfully and your stomach flips at the sight, feeling like a true-life Disney princess with heart eyes and birds singing above your head.
"I don't know many girls in art." He admits,
"Ok, what about outside uni, do you go to any popular hangouts?"
Your cheeks flush, knowing you're admitting how dorky and uncool you are. "Nope."
"Ok, harder than I thought." He laughs, revealing his perfect teeth again. "Do you have a job?"
Nodding again, you play with the hem of your lace sleeve, channeling your nerves into the action.
As you're about to answer, your heel gets stuck in between the paving stone, causing you to buckle. Panic strikes you. You cannot fall over and embarrass yourself! Not when finding out who you are will be embarrassing enough. Luckily, you steady yourself against a nearby lamppost before falling on your face but at the cost of leaving your shoe stuck in the ground.
You tuck your leg up under your dress, steadying yourself against the street light, directly underneath the assaulting brightness, illuminating you like a spotlight.
Jungkook rushes over to your lonesome blue stiletto and retrieves it before crouching on one knee in front of you.
You stare at him, eyes wide and alarmed by his sudden closeness as he holds out your shoe in the most sincere way.
You bring your foot down and arch it back into its rightful holster. As you do, his fingertips graze your ankle, sending a flush of heat cascading up your body and neck, stopping only at your hairline.
He lingers there, looking up at you with huge doe eyes, but with a severe intensity you've never noticed from him before.
His fingers skate up your leg slightly as he rises, sending a delicious shiver through you. His fingers tips hint at your hand, you yearn to reach out and hold it, as he stands mere centimeters away from you. His intoxicating scent swirling around you like your own personal hurricane, taking your composed state and tearing through it, leaving it whimpering weakly on the ground. His face is too close to yours and yet not close enough. You feel feverish from his proximity and yet you need him closer to sate your heat.
Your breast vibrates from the aggressive pounding of your heart. Having him here on his knees in front of you, something not even acceptable in your wildest dreams and yet, here he is.
The person you've gotten to know so well, such a contrast to the person you've seen around campus. But then again, he seems to like the person he's gotten to know too, maybe he won't be as disappointed when he realises who you are? Maybe you can kid yourself into thinking that.
A chiming sounds in the distance, barely there and yet it creeps further into your subconscious.
"Your phone is ringing." He whispers, his breath tickling your face, as his eyes still blaze into yours.
'My phone. My phone? Oh, my phone!' Your muddled thoughts clear themselves enough for you to understand his words. You pull it out of your little silver handbag and see Jimin's number on screen.
"Hello?" You ask, staring dreamily at Jungkook who is rooted firmly in his spot.
"Ok, I apologise if you're throat-deep around prince charming’s dick but I really need to make it home before midnight so my dad doesn't turn me into a pumpkin...and by that I mean, pounded, pulped and pressed into pumpkin pie."
You snap out of it suddenly, realising Jimin's words and not wanting him to get in trouble because of you. "Of course. I'm coming, right now."
Jungkook's eyes flit back to reality with a deep frown. His hand clasps yours as you hang up and tuck your phone back into your bag. Your legs, already moving towards the front entrance where he would be waiting.
"Wait," Jungkook's pleading pierces right into your chest, feeling your resolve bubble up to the surface, enticing you to stay and see where the night takes you. But you don't.
"I can't, I have to go." You say, gently slipping your hand from his and jogging elegantly to the front parking lot.
When you see Jimin's dads silver Rolls Royce, you're suddenly eager to get in and share your news.
"So...did you meet him!?" An excited Jimin shakes your arm as you close the door behind you.
"Yes. You will never guess who he is." You fasten your belt and Jimin pulls off quickly, both of you wincing as he narrowly misses a barrier post on the way out of the campus.
"Who?"
You smile to yourself, heart fit to burst. "Jeon Jungkook."
Jimin's foot taps on the brakes, lurching you forward.
"I'm sorry. What?" He turns to you, eyes wider than you've ever seen them. "As in, popular boy, sex god Jungkook?"
You scoff. "Who told you he was a sex god?"
"I'm making assumptions. I'm sure you'll find out soon enough." He grins as he elbows you in the ribs and sets off driving you home, while excitement rapidly blooms inside you.
You dropped your necklace.
You read the words over and over, unsure what your response should be. You needed that necklace. The simple silver chain holding the tiny teardrop pearl. It was all you had left of your dad. When he died, your step-mother sold most of his things, including gifts he bought for you. This was your last, most cherished item. The only reason you were allowed to keep it is that you were wearing it at the time and you haven't taken it off since. Losing it had your chest aching. You stared at Jungkook's last message until sleep over took you.
Monday morning. Eyes gritty and burning, you wake to the sea of sleep trying to entice you back to its darkening depths but you fight your fluttering eyelids and get ready for a new day.
How are you going to look at Jungkook now? You should tell him who you are. Yes, you'll do that and get your necklace back and it'll be happily ever after.
Only it won't.
From your experience happily ever after doesn't happen for most people, even accomplished, brilliant, beautiful people. You're entirely average and ordinary, why would it happen for you?
By the time you get to campus, your manic mind has been changed numerous times. You decide to wait until you see him, which you spend every moment of your arrival scanning the faces that pass you.
"Hey, hey, Jelly Bean. Looking for me?" Jimin's cheerful face comes into full view, distracting you.
He's clearly unimpressed with whatever expression you're portraying currently, as he pouts and turns to the sea of faces. "Clearly, I no longer matter, now you've got big dick Jungkook."
You hush him loudly, looking around to ensure there were no listening ears. "Firstly, I'm begging you, stop talking about his dick and secondly, stop being stupid."
He laughs at your stressed rant. "Ok, ok, jeez. Is he meeting you this morning?"
Your body tenses, knowing, already hearing the lecture he's about to scold you with.
"You didn't tell him, did you? He still has no idea it's you!?" He sighs, throwing his hands in the air dramatically, typical Jimin fashion. "I swear to god...If you don't tell him, I will."
Your head snaps over to him as you walk side by side into the building, glaring menacingly in his direction. "You wouldn't dare."
He shrugs. "Try me, scaredy cat."
You huff and scrub at your tired eyes. "Let me just get through my classes then we shall discuss this."
He laughs as he tussles your hair and heads off in the opposite direction.
Your day passes fairly quickly, even though your struggle to stay awake during lectures only grows.
You do not see Jungkook, which is not unusual as you're not even in the same wings of the building most of the time.
Jimin's frantic waving has you puzzled as a deep frown creases your brow as you walk towards him, his jumping and pointing most unusual. It's only when you see a set of hands directly in front of you and feel your necklace land on your chest as it's draped across your collar bones, that you stop in your tracks.
Those hands, warm at the back of your neck and a mouth next to your ear saying, "I told you I'd look after it and return it." Unmistakably Jungkook's voice whispers in your ear making you quiver.
When his hands are gone you look down and find relief washing over you with the familiar feel of your necklace, having felt bare and empty without it.
"Why didn't you reply to my messages?" He asks, stepping in front of you with a big bunny smile.
Wide eyed with shock, your mouth gapes open with the slow realization that he is, in fact, talking to you. "How-how did you…" Words fail you as you frantically think of any way you might have let slip your identity but coming up empty.
"How did I know it was you?" He asks, mouth pulled on one side in a smile. "When you dropped your necklace as you left the dance, I recognized it instantly. "
"Wh-what?" You squeak out. You attempt to swallow your confusion enough to form a coherent sentence. "On what planet would someone like you notice anything about someone like me."
A look of hurt flashes across his face, almost as if you'd slapped him as he takes a step towards you, a hair's width away now. "How could I not notice you? You're beautiful and smart, you don't follow the crowd and you're kind to everyone, I've noticed everything the last two years. I've just never spoken to you properly because….well...what do I have to offer someone like you, with endless talents and interests, a charming personality to boot and just when I think that's all there is, I discover something else about you. I'm just the school jock, popularity gets me opportunities, I don't have to work hard for anything...I feel...inferior to you. Worthless."
Your heart aches, hearing the words you feel escaping his mouth. How could that be possible? How on earth could he be so utterly mistaken, so completely wrong about himself?
"But gameoverguk is nothing like that person you're describing. If that's truly who you are?" You question quietly.
He nods, placing a finger under your chin and tilting your head up to him.
"Hi, I'm Jeon Jungkook, I'm a gamer geek, I'm good at sports, I enjoy bike rides on the weekend and finding new food spots and I'd really like to take you out sometime...if you'll let me."
You feel your lips stretch into an undeniable grin. "Nice to finally meet you Jungkook. I'd love to."
As you aim the plastic machine gun, keeping it steady in your armpit and pointed towards the screen, you and Jungkook race through the game, taking down your enemies at every chance. When your team name, "Blue Hour Gamer" flashes in neon letters on screen as the winners, your hollering and hooting fill the arcade.
You don't even care that people are watching, not when you jump up and high five each other or when that high five turns into a hug, or when that hug very quickly turns into a kiss. You don't care.
You pull away quickly, embarrassment finding its way to dust your cheeks scarlet. Until you feel his hand press your lower back to him, your bodies crushing together and moving in perfect sync, making their own rhythm and inviting you to sing with it.
Heat blazes inside you like a wildfire, capturing everything else in its path and turning into thoughtless ash in the wind. Nothing else mattered, just him, his lips against yours, his hands on your skin, caressing so gently and yet setting your skin aflame.
Before you knew it, you were at his small, studio apartment, realising you had no clue he lived alone but thankful for that just the same.
When your back finds the bed, you sink into it, disappearing into a cloud of euphoria as he roams your body, slow and meaningful. Every touch makes you feel things you never have before, and every movement brings you closer to the edge of the precipice.
The way his mouth feels on you as he explores your body sends sparks of electricity racing through you. The way he feels inside you with each perfect, controlled movement lights you up like the sunrise after dark, warming you with its rays as you stare off the cliff edge and brace yourself for the impact. His hand caresses your cheek as he looks deeply into your eyes, something so sweet and pure in the action that your chest swells with emotion. His forehead touches yours as he moves in perfect time with your pounding heart. Suddenly you're falling, everything going past in a rush before crashing onto a sea of ecstasy, writhing and moaning until your climax subsides and his has joined in unison.
A tender kiss on your head, his arm winding around you, pulling you to him and encasing you in the perfect safety net is enough. Maybe he'll be your happily ever after, after all.
#btswritersclub#btswriterscollective#ficswithluv#bangtanarmynet#bangtanuniversity#btsbookclub#bts#bangtan#bangtan army#bangtan seonyeondan#bts army#bts jeon jungkook#bts jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook#jungkook fanfic#bts jungkook fanfic#jungkook fanfiction#bts smut#bts angst#bts fluff#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jk#bts kookie#kookie#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction
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A student! reader (over 18 obviously) who has an awkward crush on Seteth who may reciprocate? This ask is like on the verge of the DONT section in your rules so feel free to ignore if it is too uncomfy xD
I actually got a couple asks in the wake of that post I made about teasing Seteth in the Academy uniform, so I'm glad you guys are vibing with me on that lol~
That said, I will say that a literal teacher/student thing is ehhhhh for me, BUT I think I have a way to make this work for all of us :3
Jeez, the number of times I've written Seteth fucking someone on his desk-
CW: former student, degradation, spanking, me being a Seteth simp
Seteth (FE3H) x FEM Reader - Garreg Mach Uniform
NSFW 18+
Sometimes it seems that your austere lover is even more busy in the post-war scramble for stabilization than he had been during wartime. Seteth had already been known for an almost worryingly dedicated work-ethic when you'd met him during your time as a student at the Officers Academy. Now, many years and sociopolitical shifts and one nervous love-confession later, it only seemed that more rested on on his shoulders than ever.
Perhaps that's why, when you discover your old uniform while cleaning up your quarters one day, an irresistible idea forms in your mind.
Seteth's eyes drift, then refocus. He blinks away the exhaustion threatening to break him from his duties, then sighs as he runs a hand through emerald hair. The Chapel bells had signified the end of administrative hours some time ago, but he can't allow himself to become lax. There's still much to be done. It's days like this that make him think with a wry smile that his brothers would scoff at the way he's chosen to live his life, having traded fangs for bureaucracy.
His office door is propped open as usual, but he hears a knock that shakes him from his thoughts.
"Come in-" he glances up at you, and his brows furrow deeply. You can't help a playful smile at the sight of Seteth's face already tinted pink. With as much innocence as you can affect, you step into his office to show off your attire. Your old uniform still fits- more or less -but you've made some careful adjustments. The jacket and white blouse underneath are only buttoned as high as would be strictly necessary to be seen in public, exposing a daring view of your chest. Thigh-high stockings hug your legs, then lead up to perhaps the most scandalous aspect of this ensemble. You've rolled up the hem of your skirt until it flutters about your hips so short that when you're not careful, a glimpse of your backside is clearly visible. This latter point, Seteth clearly notices as you twirl for him, saying,
"Look what I found, love," He's already on his feet approaching you, and you smile up at him as sweetly as you can, "sure brings back memories, doesn't it?"
Without a word, Seteth tugs you away from the office door and shuts it firmly behind you.
"Did you parade yourself all the way here from your quarters looking like this?!" he demands, and you hear the click of the door locking behind you.
"Well I don't see how else I could have gotten here, so..." you reply flippantly.
"Goddess above," he says with an exasperated sigh. His thumb and forefinger worry at the bridge of his nose as he turns back towards his desk, "To think that anyone could have seen you-!"
You roll your eyes with a grin and follow him. You take his hands in yours, drawing them away from him and opening up his closed posture.
"Come on, I just thought you might like it," you say as you draw closer to him. Seteth sighs again and looks you up and down.
"Whether or not I like it is immaterial, my love."
"But you do like it," you prod him further, your grin widening.
He opens his mouth, then closes it again. His lips tighten for a moment, then he manages to say,
"It is... flattering."
Releasing his hands, your own travel up the front of his torso, enjoying the dips and swells of his muscled body beneath those conservative robes. You feel his chest rise as he inhales sharply, and you say,
"Have I ever told you that I had a hell of a crush on you even back in my student days?"
Seteth speaks your name with a hint of a warning his his voice. You press your body to his as your touch travels up the strong contour of his neck to tease along the line of his beard.
"It's true. I've always wanted you, Seteth," you go on, "Every single time you scolded or lectured me, part of me was... incredibly turned on. Sometimes, it was simply too much to bear," you curl a lock of his hair around your fingertips. You can see his ironclad will beginning to fracture. "Sometimes, I'd return to my room and pleasure myself, all while dreaming of you disciplining me."
Then, his lips are on yours, his kiss so hard and impassioned that for a moment, you're breathless. Your smug posturing falters immediately. He drags your bottom lip between his teeth as one hand wraps around you while the other grabs onto the plump swell of your ass beneath the flimsy coverage of your skirt. Seteth pulls you firmly against his strong body, and you can feel his cock throbbing against you. Then, as suddenly as he'd initiated it, he breaks your kiss- but before you can speak, his hand holds at your chin and forces you to meet his fierce gaze.
"So, you came here in this shameful attire with the express purpose of provoking me," his voice is a husky whisper, the mere sound of it nearly enough to make your knees buckle, "Very well then- you will have your scolding."
He manhandles you into position, rougher and more forceful with you than he's ever been. Before long, you're bent over his desk beneath him, and he stares down at you with a heat that paradoxically makes you shiver. Then, he raises a hand, and brings down his palm across your ass. You whimper and arch up from the hardwood, but he only says coldly,
"Straighten your legs."
You do your best to obey, holding your backside upright for him as though presenting him with your body. Despite your efforts, his hand descends once more, the wonderful sting of his strike warming your skin.
"Spread them wider." he commands, and once again you obey without question. You hear the familiar rustle of his belt and outer robes coming undone, and you glance back over your shoulder.
"Eyes forward, Miss Y/N." he says, his tone now balancing on a dangerous edge. You whine in protest, but follow his instructions and merely await your punishment. He gives a low hum and says, "I see you are capable of some measure of discipline, at least."
You feel the stiff head of his cock pushing between your folds, but before you can prepare yourself in the slightest, Seteth drives into your waiting cunt. Immediately, your eyes roll back and you gasp out his name. He holds you by your hips, pulling you back against him until your ass presses flush against his pelvis. He's nestled deep inside of you, his powerful manhood stretching you to your limit- and for the moment, he simply remains as such. The tip of his cock is nudging hard against your womb, sending blended pain and pleasure radiating through your nerves. It's all you can do to keep yourself positioned properly for him.
"To think that you would flaunt your body about the Monastery in such attire," Seteth snarls behind you, his cock throbbing against your inner walls, "You're every bit as hopeless as you were as a student." Once again, he spanks you, and you have to imagine by now that his abuse has begun to mark your tender skin.
You're already panting aloud for him when finally, his hips begin to move. His pace is immediately firm and punishing, his cock pistoning in and out of you, stimulating your every aching sweet spot and sending a painful jolt up your spine with each thrust. Your lips hang parted as you gasp for breath, your eyes dazed and unfocused in your bliss. A sudden rush seizes your body, and you feel your pussy clench around the massive intrusion of Seteth's cock.
"Cumming already?" he says with clear derision in his voice, though he never eases his pace as his bucks into you, "Perhaps you were even aroused by showing yourself in public in this shameful state."
"Nuh- no...!" you whimper softly, "It was... it's only for you-!"
Smack! His palm strikes your bouncing flesh once more. You're still riding the wave of your climax- or perhaps you're cumming a second time already. It's impossible to tell.
"Yet you were already soaked by the time I bent you over," Seteth goes on as he pounds into you, "One can't help but think that perhaps my troublesome student quite enjoys behaving like a wanton whore."
You can't manage to reply anymore. Your head is spinning and your body aches. Seteth's full length drives into you to its base again and again, and you can't even begin to say how many times you've cum before he begins to falter. His hips snap towards you haltingly, his body shudders, and his balls feel large and heavy as they slap against you with each thrust. It seems even his immense self-control can't stand up to this lewd punishment session for much longer. As your hands uselessly try to find purchase on the surface of his desk, Seteth leans over you, his hands now on your waist, pinning you down beneath him. His member throbs from base to tip, and with an animalistic groan, he says,
"I expect you... to take full responsibility-!"
With this, you feel the heat of his release pouring out at your core. His length twitches with every shot of cum that he spills into you, and his hands grip you so tight you can feel his nails digging along your skin. Seteth moans out your name, and you're distantly grateful that no one else stays in the offices as late as he does- you've both certainly made enough noise to have caused a scene by now.
At long, long last, his member pulses with the final throes of his orgasm. Seteth's grip on you loosens, and his office is quiet save for soft panting as you both struggle to collect yourselves. He pulls his length from you in one motion, and already, you can feel his thick seed dripping along your lower lips.
"You will head to my chambers," Seteth says, then clears his throat as he struggles to regain his usual composed dignity, "And if you don't want anyone to see this dripping out of you, you'll go quickly."
"Whose fault is that, I wonder," you manage to mumble, slowly pushing yourself up from the desk. Seteth actually laughs at this. Even now, his laugh is a rare treat that makes your heart skip like nothing else.
"I am tempted to say yours, given your intentional provocation," he says, bending over to place a soft kiss to your lips, "but I acknowledge that my own weakened restraint is partially to blame. To that end," he adds, his smile once more gentle and fond, "I am feeling rather rejuvenated. I'll be done with my work before long, and I do hope to see you in my quarters then."
#seteth#seteth x reader#fire emblem#feh#fe3h#fire emblem three houses#seteth smut#fire emblem smut#fire emblem imagines#fire emblem x reader#x reader
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Vampire Shift~
ꕥPosted: 5/23/21
ꕥGenre: Fluff, Smut, Angst, College!au, Horror!au
ꕥPairing: Fem!Reader x Vampire!Jongho (feat Wooyoung and Minho from skz)
ꕥWord Count: ~5.9k (whoops)
ꕥWarnings: Horror themes, Language, Thigh riding, Unprotected sex, Mentions of blood and blood sucking (please lmk if I missed anything)
ꕥTag List: @cappujinho @bobateastay
ꕥA/N: I hope you all don’t a more spooky concept! Halloween is my favorite holiday and even though its May, it’s always spooky season to me lolol. Also! Feel free to listen to Vampire Shift by All Time Low while reading this (it’s only on YouTube I cry) since this is inspired by the song :)
It was a terrible idea, really, to work the night shift at a gas station alone. Even more so when you’re a young woman whose only defense is the pepper spray on her key chain and 911 on speed dial. Alas, college bills don’t pay themselves and every spare opportunity to get cash was one I had to take.
The digital clock sitting on the counter next to me briefly flashed, indicating another hour had gone by. It was currently four a.m. and it was safe to say I was losing my mind. I’d worked for five hours now, and not a customer had come in. That was the only advantage, really. So long as no one was around my boss let me finish any assignments I had, which came in handy on more than one occasion.
I was only six paragraphs into a five page report and had been staring at my laptop screen for over an hour, feeling beyond brain dead. I was assigned the topic of financial statements and country trade deficits, and wanted to cry every minute I thought about it. I was half convinced to pay someone to write the report for me.
The ringing of a bell indicated a customer opening the door and I closed my laptop to peer around the counter, ready to greet whoever entered. The first man to catch my attention was wearing sunglasses which fazed me, but I tried not to stare. The man that followed had black hair with blond underneath, a combination that I strangely liked. Both men were donned in all back, their faces stoic. They were attractive, I had to admit, but neither were my type.
And then, the last man entered. He looked over to me as he walked through the door, giving me a nod and a slight smile. His slicked back black hair matched his black ripped jeans and highlighted his red leather jacket. He was so handsome he looked like he jumped out of a magazine and I had to suppress a ‘wow’. A string of butterflies fluttered in my stomach and I did my best to ignore them, not even knowing his name.
The three of them wandered through the aisles until I could no longer see them, and I scolded myself for being so thrown off that I forgot say any form of a greeting. I sighed and turned my attention back to my laptop, opening it and blankly staring at the screen. My ears perked when I heard the men’s hushed voices.
“Y’oughta get that girl’s number. I saw the way you looked at her.”
“Yeah, Jongho. She’s pretty cute. If you don’t get her number you know I will.”
“Shut up.” One of the men, Jongho apparently, responded with a laugh, “Let’s just get some snacks, okay? It’s gonna be a long night. Also I’m buying tonight so get whatever.”
A smile crept on my face and I looked down, fiddling with my thumbs.
They think I’m cute. Maybe Jongho’s the one in red?
I heard the bell ring once more and a girl entered who I vaguely remembered from high school. She was popular but for good reason, probably being one of the nicest people I’d ever met. Our circle of friends overlapped slightly so I’d spent a fair amount of time with her. She was smart as a whip and gorgeous all the same, which seemed to stay with her. She looked bright, long red hair falling around her face, freckles still prominent as ever.
We met eyes and she smiled, “Hey y/n!”
I smiled and waved, “Hey Annabelle. How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you in awhile.”
“Good! I got into my dream college and it’s been great, although I’ve had to take some pretty hard classes.” She giggled, walking towards me. It’s honestly not too far from here. You go to Westgate University, right?”
I nodded and I put my laptop aside. She spoke again, genuinely excited for me, “That’s awesome! Congrats!”
“Thanks,” I smiled, “I’m taking it you got into Orholt?”
“I did! I was really-”
One of the men that entered earlier—the one still wearing sunglasses—shouted the redhead’s name and caught her attention, “Hey Anna do you want a Redbull or a Five Hour Energy?”
“Redbull! I’m not a monster.” She laughed.
The man nodded and walked toward us with several drinks and snacks in his hands.
“Oh! I want to introduce you to my boyfriend!” Annabelle turned to the man still wearing sunglasses and reached for his arm, “This is Minho. I met him at Orholt.”
Minho gave me a slight nod as I introduced myself and he placed the food and drinks on the counter. I began to scan the items, the mindless routine that I was used to by now. The loud sound of laughter made me look up, seeing the two other men approach us and place their snacks down as well. I watched them long enough to notice the way two-tone—my new affectionate name for the man with blond and black hair, I decided—shamelessly checked me out, a cocky smile on his face when I caught him. I just let out a small laugh before resuming my task, watching his confused reaction in my peripheral vision.
“Oh my god I totally forgot to introduce you to my friends.” Annabelle giggled and pointed to two-tone, “This is Wooyoung.”
“Hiya, Wooyoung.” I said with a confident smile, enjoying the way he still had a slightly confused look on his face.
“And this,” Annabelle nodded towards the man in red, “This is Jongho. Both him and Wooyoung go to Orholt, too.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Jongho. I’m y/n.”
“Very nice to meet you.” The man smiled before he sent me a wink.
I had never been a particularly shy person, but as he did so my eyes darted down as I felt my face flush. I didn’t notice the gears turning in Annabelle’s head as she put the pieces together.
I placed the final items in the bag, raising my head as Annabelle addressed me, “You know I’m having a bonfire tomorrow night at my place and you should totally come!”
I stopped to think, first trying to remember if I worked the next day, then wondering if I was willing to go the bonfire when I realized I didn’t have to.
She sensed my hesitancy and her face fell, “Aw do you work tomorrow night? It’s a Saturday!”
“Oh no, I don’t. I...” I stopped to think for a minute. Although I likely didn’t know anyone else who would be there, I was familiar with Annabelle’s house, which brought me a bit of comfort, “Are all of you going?”
Annabelle gave a knowing smile, “Yes. All of us will be here.”
I nodded, accepting the credit card Jongho gave me, quickly after handing them the bags, and returning his card, “I’ll go.”
“Yay! We’ve gotta head out but I’ll send you the details. You’ve still got the same number, right?”
“Yeah I do.”
“Alrighty! I’ll see you tomorrow then!”
Annabelle left with a wave, her boyfriend on her arm and Wooyoung behind her. To my surprise, Jongho didn’t leave with them, the cocky look on his face all but telling me why he stayed.
I looked at him with wide eyes, playing innocent. “Can I help you?”
He placed an arm on the counter, his dark eyes seeming to put me under a spell. The confidence he was radiating was almost palpable and I felt myself being pulled to him. It was intimidating, to be honest.
“You’re really cute and I want your number.”
I let out a surprised laugh, “You really don’t beat around the bush, do you?”
“No, not really,” He propped his other arm on the counter, leaning towards me and raising an eyebrow, “So what do you say, doll?”
A smile crept on my face as I mirrored his actions and leaned towards him, “You gonna memorize my number? Or do you have a phone I can put my number into?”
Jongho’s smile got brighter as he reached to grab his phone, handing it to me. “You’re a firecracker, aren’t you?”
I shrugged, “I’d like to think so.”
When I handed his phone back, our fingers brushed and I could’ve sworn I felt sparks shoot through me at the simple interaction.
“Well I need to head out before the rest of them get too annoyed,” He nodded towards the exit where Annabelle, Minho, and Wooyoung left, “But it was enchanting to meet you, y/n.” He bowed, drawing a laugh from me.
“Ah yes. You as well, absolutely delightful.”
He gave me a smile, “I’ll text you later.”
"Sounds good. I’ll hold you to your word.”
“I’d expect nothing less.” And with that, he was out the door, leaving my heart a fluttering mess.
-
Me [8:37pm] So is there a dress code for tonight?
Annabelle [8:42pm] Nope! Wear whatever you’re comfortable with. I’m wearing this if it helps at all!
Annabelle [8:43pm] 1 Image Attached*
Me [8:45pm] So leather jackets and crop tops?
Annabelle [8:48pm] Haha sure! We can match!
Me [8:51pm] Lol bet. See you at eleven :)
Annabelle [8:51pm] See you then!
I started the process of slipping on a white cropped top followed by my light washed ripped jeans. I knew I was getting ready far earlier than I could have, but something about new events made me anxious and I had to make sure I looked nice. I giggled at the black leather jacket I was throwing over my shoulders, not having worn it since high school. In the middle of debating whether or not I should add another layer of mascara to my lashes, my phone dinged.
New Number [8:59pm] Y/n this better be you. This is Jongho and I’m texting you for a really important reason and I need you to reply quick
Me [9:00pm] Yeah it’s me. What’s going on are you okay??
New Number [9:02pm] I’m gonna go grab some food before I head to Anna’s. You wanna come with?
Me [9:02pm] Oh my god don’t do that to me, you buffoon. You scared me so bad rip
[New Number name changed to A Cute Buffoon]
Me [9:03pm] But sure I’m down lol. Here’s my address btw
Me [9:03pm] 1 Location Shared*
It occurred to me perhaps a bit too late that I was sharing my address with someone that I’d met only once and in a gas station.
I mean, he’s friends with Annabelle so he’s gotta be good right? God I hope so. I thought to myself.
A Cute Buffoon [9:04] Then it’s a date :) I live pretty close so I’ll be over in 10. That work for you?
Me [9:06pm] Fine with me!
A Cute Buffoon [9:06pm] Sounds good. I’ll see you soon ;)
I set down my phone and thanked myself for already doing my makeup. I checked myself out in the mirror, satisfied with my appearance and proud of how well my makeup turned out. I grabbed my bottle of perfume and spritzed the liquid in the air, letting it gradually fall on me so it wouldn’t be too overpowering.
You look beautiful, babe.
The waiting game was harder than I thought, not knowing what to do except awkwardly sit around and play an assortment of phone games. When exactly ten minutes had passed I heard my doorbell ring and I lifted myself from my couch, grinning at his punctuality.
I opened the door to see Jongho holding a bouquet of flowers, a smug look on his face. “Lovely to meet you here, stranger.”
I wanted to make a joke back but I couldn’t seem to think of anything, too surprised by the flowers in his hands. It wasn’t anything extravagant, the small bouquet of violets, but I felt my heart swell.
It’s perfect. He’s perfect.
My voice was small when I spoke, “No one’s ever given me flowers before.”
His eyebrows furrowed as a confused look painted his face, “Really?”
I nodded, taking the flowers from his outreached hands and smelling their sweet fragrance, “They’re beautiful.”
My eyes flickered to his, the tender look on his face making me feel as if I was melting on the spot, “You’re beautiful.”
I squealed, my face undoubtedly turning pink while my mind short circuited. I’d never become so shy around someone before and the only thing I could think of to say in response was another ‘thank you’ followed by ‘I’ll go get a vase for these.’
I opened my door further, rummaging through my cabinets for a vase when I noticed Jongho was still standing by the door, “You can come in, you know? That’s why I opened the door.”
He laughed nervously, “Sorry about that. Force of habit, I guess.”
I raised my eyebrows in a teasing manner, “What? Are you a vampire? Can you only come in if someone invites you?”
I thought I saw a flicker of shock on his face for a moment, but it was gone before I could register it and I shrugged it off, my eyes finding the perfect vase for the flowers.
“It’s just how I was raised.”
“I get that.” I placed the flowers in the vase, giving them a bit of water before walking up to Jongho and gently patting his cheek, “Your good manners are appreciated.”
He laughed in surprise, full gummy smile on display as he playfully swatted my hand away from his face, “Alright, alright. Let’s head out already.”
I made a sound of agreement before noticing a slight pink on his ears. I was temped to tease him, but ultimately decided to save it for later. If I could fluster him once I knew I could do it again.
-
The diner we went to was one I’d never heard of before, let alone been to, and I was beyond frustrated that I didn’t even know about it’s existence. It was an adorable fifties style diner and even the attire the waiters were wearing fit the theme.
“This is the cutest place to ever exist, I’m convinced.” I said as we sat down on the same side of a bright red booth.
“I really hoped you would like it. This is my favorite restaurant ever and they have fantastic milkshakes. If you’d like to share one for desert, I’m all for it.” A wink.
I bit my lip and hid my face in the menu that was placed in front of us, thankful for any method of escape.
“You’re so cute.”
“Ahh no don’t say things like that.” I giggled from behind the menu.
His hand grabbed the top of the menu, pulling it down so he could see me, “Why’s that?”
“Because you make me nervous. Like a good nervous!” I tried to explain, which only resulted in becoming even more embarrassed, “I-I mean I’m excited to be around you but I’m also nervous. I hope that doesn’t sound weird.” I cringed at myself. Never in my life did I think I’d be blushing and stuttering over some man, but my god did he prove me wrong.
“Not at all,” he reached over to take my hand in his, “because I feel it, too.”
Before I could properly react our waitress came over, taking our order and effectively saving me from becoming a human tomato.
We handed our menus back to her after ordering and she looked at us with a soft smile, “You two make a cute couple.”
While I was a bit too stunned to say anything, Jongho didn’t seem to have the same problem and went along with it, “Thank you, ma’am. That’s kind of you to say.”
When she left, Jongho leaned closer to me, “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable by saying that we we’re a couple. I thought that-”
“No, I didn’t mind it!” I bit my tongue after likely saying that way too fast with far too much enthusiasm, but I meant it, “I didn’t mind it,” I said again, softer this time.
The tips of his ears once again turned a faint shade of pink, “Good to know.”
The food was as wonderful as it possibly could’ve been, their fries alone being one of the best things I’d ever consumed. Just as Jongho suggested, we shared a milkshake, which led to shy eye contact and laughter and my crush becoming stronger by the minute.
Just as Jongho paid and we were about to leave, a certain song began to play and he looked at me with an air of mischief, holding out his hand to me, “Dance with me.”
I took his hand, trying to hide my smile but failing. He led me away from the table and next to the jukebox. The area surrounding it was more open, probably with the intention for people to dance near it. He grabbed my waist, holding the hand of mine that wasn’t placed on his chest and looking at me in a way that could make any woman fall in love on the spot. We swayed to the music and I couldn’t help but feel full. Like I’d found all that I’d ever need.
Put your head on my shoulder~
“Do you know this song?” He asked with a smile.
I scoffed, “Of course I do! It’s one of my favorites.”
“It’s one of mine, too.”
Hold me in your arms, baby~
I mouthed along to the words as I felt the need to prove it to him. As if to one up me, Jongho began to sing along, his gorgeous voice amazing me.
Squeeze me oh so tight, show me~
That you love me, too~
I blushed as he looked at me while singing along, becoming a bit flustered himself when the lyrics clicked with him.
Put your lips next to mine dear~
Won’t you kiss me once, baby~
As if we were in sync our eyes darted to the other’s lips at the same time. I could feel Jongho’s breathing becoming heavier before he said in a hushed tone, “Can I kiss you?”
“Please.” Was all I could respond before I pressed my lips to his, fireworks igniting inside me when he kissed me back. His lips were so soft and warm and as crazy as it sounded, he felt like home. I felt him smile against my lips as the music continued to play.
Maybe you and I will fall in love~
-
The fire was loud, crackling and lighting up the faces of all those crowded those around it. It was essentially the only source of light in the dark of the night, except for the distant lights still on in Annabelle’s house. My hands were interlocked with Jongho’s as we sat around it’s warmth, both of us finding it hard to separate from one another.
Conversation was flowing all around us, and I was relieved to find that everyone I had talked to was kind and welcoming. I was more nervous than I realized, but having Jongho next to my side alone calmed me. Someone around the fire mentioned an old story involving Annabelle and I began to wonder where she was, having not seen her since Jongho and I first arrived. I mentioned I was going to look for her and he nodded, at first wanting to join me but then getting pulled into conversation with one of his former classmates. I told him I’d head off on my own and he nodded again.
I looked around what seemed to be the entire property and still there was no sight of her. At that moment I heard yelling coming from her house, startling me. I felt my blood run cold when I recognized one of the voices as Annabelle’s. The yelling didn’t sound like it was out of fear, but instead more aggressive, out of pure anger. Without thinking I ran inside, hoping to calm the situation but instead found what seemed to be out of a work of fiction.
An unfamiliar man was on the ground, obviously trying to get away from a hidden figure before him that seemed to be cloaked in darkness. He let out a sound that I’d never heard a human make, one that I couldn’t even compare to something I’d heard before, and a shiver ran down my back. As the figure took a step forward I recognized it as Annabelle, or what seemed to be some version of her. Her normally grey eyes were now bright red, sharp fangs on display as she snarled at the man. A group of people were surrounding them, alarmed looks on their faces but hardly trying to intervene.
“What the hell?” I whispered, my eyes wide as I tried to back away without anyone noticing. But of course, I just had to step on an empty soda can, all eyes pointing my way. As I looked at the people around me, their expressions seemed to mirror mine and I swallowed, suddenly feeling immensely claustrophobic.
I met eyes with Annabelle and she seemed to change in a flash, her eyes returning to their former color and fangs disappearing. She looked more panicked than I had ever seen her which only scared me more. She was always able to keep her stressors under control, but as she stared back at me, I saw a version of her I never had before.
I was barely able to form a sentence, adrenaline coursing through me at a rampant rate, “Um...”
Annabelle slowly walked towards me, “Oh—hey! Sorry I disappeared for a while but how’s the party going? Are you having fun?” Panic was still evident in her voice but I knew she was trying to keep a hold of the situation.
“I...I don’t-”
A stern voice came from left, and I nervously turned to meet Jongho, an unreadable expression crossing his face, “Y/n.”
“Yeah?” My voice squeaked as I began to regret agreeing to come along in the first place, still hyper aware of all the eyes on me.
“Come with me.”
His eyes softened at my panicked state and he held out a hand, “Please?”
I was hesitant, but being anywhere away from the crowd and whatever Annabelle turned into seemed to be a good idea. I took his hand and watched as he exchanged a look with Annabelle that seemed to calm her. Turning on his heels he led me back to the bonfire, sitting in a chair and motioning for me to do the same. Seeing no one around us gave me a feeling of both anxiety and comfort, and I wasn’t quite sure which feeling was winning at the moment.
“Well I’m sure you have plenty of questions.” He started, “I won’t lie to you and try to convince you what you saw wasn’t real, because it was, but I need you to know that no one is going to harm you. That guy is Anna’s roommate and they get into an argument at least once a week. Sometimes it can be nasty, but they never get physical and neither would ever hurt anyone unprovoked. No one here would.”
I was silent for a few minutes, trying to process what I saw on top of the time bomb of information he dropped on me. “Is she...is everyone....are you a vampire?” I whispered the last words, almost too stunned and afraid to say out loud.
He smiled slightly, his kind eyes making me feel safe. “Yes. We’re what you’d call vampires.”
I took a breath, almost afraid to hear the answer to my question, “Am I in any danger by being here?”
“No, everyone here is good. They don’t pose any threat. There are plenty of dangerous vampires but we stay away from them. Besides,” He placed an arm around my waist, playfulness in his eyes, “If there were, I’d protect you from them.”
“Oh? And how don’t I know you’re not dangerous?”
He leaned closer to me, clearly enjoying this, “You don’t, I suppose. Doesn’t that make it fun?”
“That’s very much debatable,” I smiled for a moment before a frown took over, “Everyone just seemed really...I don’t know, startled I guess?”
Jongho let out a loud sigh, looking down at the ground for a few seconds before looking back up at me, “Humans aren’t normally invited to these parties. It’s assumed that everyone here is a vampire. The perfume that you’re wearing, whatever the hell it is, is masking your scent. If I didn’t meet you before today I wouldn’t have known you were human. I guess Anna didn’t tell everyone, either.” He placed a hand on my knee and looked at me with kind eyes, “How are you feeling?”
“Surprisingly calm considering that I just learned vampires exist.”
Jongho laughed, “Yeah I’d say you’re taking it pretty well. Like I said earlier though, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of questions, so fire away.”
“Yeah I have a few.” I hesitated, hoping he wouldn’t be offended by my question, “Exactly how old are you?”
“Oh are you gonna age shame me?”
“No but it’s probably an important thing to know...since we kissed and all.”
He laughed again and leaned back in his chair, placing his arms behind his head, “How old do you think I am?”
I used his question as an excuse for my eyes to wander over his body. He was beyond attractive, very clearly fit and he knew it, which equal parts pissed me off and turned me on. As hard as I tried, I kept finding myself being pulled to his thighs. Even through his jeans I could tell he had strong thighs and I had to press my fingernails into my palm to keep from drooling. “From your appearance? Early twenties. From what age fiction usually tells us vampires are? I’d guess you’re a hundred and three.”
Jongho nodded with a smile, “I’m not quite that old but that’s a fair guess. You had it right the first time. I’m a pure born and we actually age, but we don’t age as quickly as humans. I’m twenty.”
“Pure born?”
“It means both of my parents are vampires.”
I nodded as another question came to mind, a smile on my lips. “Do you sparkle in the daylight?”
“Oh my god,” He covered his face with his hands, a mixture of a groan and a laugh escaping his mouth, “No, we do not sparkle in daylight, “His hands came to rest on his knees, “But it sucks that we really shouldn’t be in direct sunlight for over two hours a day. That’s normally the rule to go by. It’ll burn us if we’re in it for much longer than that.”
“So do werewolves and witches and everything like that exist, too?”
“Yeah pretty much. We don’t all get along, but we have to coexist. It’s something we’ve struggled with for a while, unfortunately. Basically everything you’d believe to be supernatural exists.”
I was silent for a while, not really knowing what else to say.
“Y/n? Are you doing okay? If you’re not comfortable being here I can drive you home right now or if you’d rather be alone I can call an Uber or—”
My heart skipped a beat at his kindness. “No, I’m okay. I guess I’m just surprised I’m learning about this just now.”
“We do a good job of hiding it. Also it was probably a given, but keep this as a secret if you can. Having a lot of people know about our existence can be risky.”
I gave him a silent nod, unintentionally leaning closer to him. The sound of approaching footsteps made me jump into Jongho’s arms. I didn’t know why I found comfort in him, knowing that he could be dangerous as well, but he’d been nothing but sweet to me. I had no reason to fear him.
Annabelle approached us but stopped, taking a few steps back when she saw how I was buried in Jongho’s arms.
“Hey y/n.” She rubbed her arm, looking down as if she’d done something wrong.
“I guess Jongho probably told you everything at this point. I’m really sorry if I scared you and I understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore.” Even in the dark I could see tears beginning to stream down her cheeks and I felt a pain in my chest.
I got up from Jongho’s hold and wrapped my arms around her, feeling her stiffen, “I trust you, Annabelle.”
Those four words seemed to relax her and she returned my hug, still sniffling, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. We aren’t supposed to tell anyone and I thought you might hate me—”
I pulled back, “Why the hell would I hate you? You’re still you.”
She laughed through tears, gripping me tighter, thanking me over and over for not pushing her away.
We’re gonna be okay. It’s all gonna be okay.
-
Not too long after, Jongho drove me home. The ride was more silent than when we were headed to Annabelle’s house, but the air wasn’t heavy or uncomfortable. Feeling tired, I laid my head on Jongho’s shoulder, faintly hearing ‘sleep well, baby’ before drifting asleep.
When I woke, I was in my bed. I reached for my phone on the bedside table and found a little note placed next to it that read:
I hope you don’t mind that I carried you inside. I tried to wake you for like five minutes but you were out cold. Anyways, I had a really good time with you yesterday and I hope you had fun too :) Text me when you wake so I know you’re okay. -J
I looked at my clock and saw that it was still early, but I texted Jongho anyway.
Me [3:00am] Not sure if you’re still up, but I really enjoyed yesterday, too. I’m exhausted so I’m gonna go back to sleep but I just wanted to say I’m okay and everything is good :))
A Cute Buffoon [3:00am] Sleep well, darling. We can talk in the morning
-
It had been roughly a month since Jongho and I started dating, and while I felt like I knew him pretty well, we had only known each other a little over a month, on top of the fact that he was a vampire which was essentially an entire separate culture. I’d asked him most questions I had early throughout our relationship, but one in particular kept replaying in my mind.
We were currently sitting on the couch in my apartment, cuddling each other. The TV was on but neither of us were really watching it. I was far more interested in the warm body in front of me, and based off of how Jongho was looking at me, the feeling was mutual.
I bit my lip, anxiously mulling over the question I’d wanted to ask him for weeks. I didn’t know how he would take it, let alone how I would bring it up, but I needed to ask at some point. Knowing he could probably sense my nerves, I gave in. “Jongho, can a human turn into a vampire?”
He hummed, turning to face me. “Why do you ask?”
“I just...I didn’t know if it could happen or not.”
Jongho chuckled, “Yeah it’s possible. It’s a long ass process to go through though, and there’s a lot that can go wrong, so it rarely happens.”
I shifted in my seat, trying not to appear overly interested. “Why is that? What can go wrong?
He smiled and raised a brow, his cocky persona resurfacing, “You sound so eager to know, dear. Do you want to become a vampire?” His eyes briefly flickered towards my lips before he tilted his head, dragging his soft lips across my neck. I let out a gasp when I felt the tips of his teeth lightly scraping the skin, “Or maybe you’re just looking for an excuse for me to put my mouth on you?”
Like with anything that exuded him, I felt myself becoming quickly overwhelmed, my mind now hazy and distant. I shut my eyes in an attempt to gain some semblance of control over myself.
“Your thoughts are swirling, doll.” Jongho began leaving gentle kisses along the side of my jaw, “Don’t think too much. Just let me take care of you. Okay?”
“Okay.” I said through a short breath, knowing we’d just have to have the conversation another time.
We’d had sex before, so it wasn’t like this was new territory for us, but every time felt like the first, leaving me just as out of breath each time.
He lifted me and placed me on his thigh, dragging me across his flexed muscles. I felt my eyes roll back at the simple motion, my need growing at an embarrassing rate. I grabbed his shoulders as I began to drag myself against him, whines and whimpers spilling from my lips.
“God you’re hot,” Jongho said through hot breaths, beginning to kiss my neck, no doubt leaving marks.
“Thanks I try.” I managed to say, pleased when Jongho laughed.
“You don’t even have to, and it’s completely unfair.” His hands moved under my shirt and danced along my skin, “It’s like you’re an angel come to life.”
I let out a loud moan, feeling tears well in my eyes from his praise, “You always make me feel so beautiful when I’m with you.”
Jongho responded with a smile, carrying me to my bedroom and laying me down on the bed while hurriedly discarding both of our clothes.
“You’re always so eager, babe.”
He nuzzled my neck as he climbed on top of me, his hands finding my own and holding them, “As if you’re not.”
“I never said I wasn’t.”
He then moved in between my thighs, teasing me with his fingers as he ran them along my wet slit, occasionally rubbing my clit, drawing small whines from me.
“Jongho please just fuck me already.”
“Sweetheart, do you even think you’re wet enough for me?” He cooed.
Feeling frustrated, I pushed my fingers inside myself with ease, pulling them out and spreading them so he could see my essence dripping down my fingers, “I don’t know you tell me.” I said with far more sass than I intended.
Jongho’s eyes widened at the sight and wasted no time positioning his cock at my entrance, pushing in and letting out the most beautiful groans.
Neither of us ever bothered to use protection because, to put it simply, vampires couldn’t get humans pregnant. It was only possible when both partners were vampires, and we took full advantage of that.
“Fuck—baby you feel amazing. You’re so warm and tight ohmygod.” Jongho moaned as he began to move, thrusting in and out of me at a steady pace.
I clenched around him, loving when he was vocal. His sounds helped get me off just as much as his actions, at times it seemed.
“You feel...really good...too.” I said through heavy breaths. And as much as I wanted to last longer in bed, with Jongho, I never could.
“I don’t know if it’s because you’re a vampire and you’ve got like magic powers or something or maybe you’re just a sex god—but holy shit...I’m close.”
He threw back his head and had the audacity to laugh, something I really couldn’t stay mad at with how good he was making me feel. “Babe it’s been like six minutes.”
“Don’t be an asshole.” I joked, my laugh turning into a moan. It only spurred Jongho on, making him angle one of my legs up higher, hitting deeper inside of me.
“I know you’re close, baby. I can feel it. Cum for me, baby girl. Let go for me.”
He reached down to tease my sensitive nub, drawing quick circles until I was seeing stars, chanting his name like a prayer.
After Jongho came down from his high, he disappeared into the bathroom as he always did, coming back with a warm towel. As he pressed the towel to my thighs I tried to ask again.
“So...about the human to vampire thing?”
“Well,” Jongho sighed, “I didn’t think I’d be able to distract you forever.” He smiled, “It’s mostly done because couples want to stay together. The thing is though, the vampire obviously gets a taste of the human’s blood and it can be hard to stop once you’ve marked them, especially since smell is such a big allure for us.”
He took a long breath, “Then the human will almost always pass out, and needs to be taken care of for the next couple days because they’ll be so weak. Another problem is that the scent of their blood will be amplified during those days and it’ll be harder for the vampire to not, you know...” He looked away, not able to say the words. I knew what he meant, we both did. In some cases, vampires would kill their human partners for of their blood. Sometimes it was beyond their control. Just a primal need that would betray them. “Then their scent is more easily detected by other vampires and the whole thing is just kinda a mess. I think I’ve only heard of five attempts and only one of them was successful.”
I nodded, not really knowing what to say.
“And then on top of it all, it can be harder for the human to adjust and it can put a lot of pressure on the relationship. Human and vampire relationships are dangerous.”
His face was serious as he ran a hand through my hair. I looked up at him and leaned into his touch.
He cleared his throat and averted his eyes, a shy behavior I hadn’t seen from him before, “I guess it’s important for you to decide then.” His eyes met mine again, “Is this still something you want to continue?”
“Our relationship?”
“Yeah.”
“Of course, are you crazy? You mean the world to me.” I swallowed, realizing he hadn’t voiced his own thoughts, “What about you? Do you want this?”
“I think you have a pretty good idea of what I want.” He smiled and pressed a quick kiss to my forehead, his eyes sparkling.
“Hey Jongho?”
He hummed, looking at me.
“I want to spend forever with you.”
#ateez#kpop#imagines#ateez au#ateez fluff#ateez imagines#ateez smut#atzinc#ateez vampire au#vampire au#jongho smut#jongho imagines
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