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ushiwhacka · 2 years

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BUY MY SILENCE | college au! eren jaeger + fem! reader | 2,064 words | mdni | just smut, eren has a huge dick <3

.⋆｡⋆☾ summary: your neighbour has an annoyingly overactive and loud sex life. but all you have to do is fuck him to shut him up forever. .⋆｡⋆☾ warnings: fingering, rough sex, public exposure, pussy slapping (once), a bit of corruption kink, mentions of daddy kink, slight degradation

It’s been an hour. A whole hour since you last wrote even a word in the nearly blank document - a lab report due tomorrow at noon. A whole hour since your neighbour started fucking his new whore, the latest in a very, very long line of whores. At 9 PM. On a Tuesday. And it’s the same scenario with each one. They moan and scream and moan some more. Call him daddy. Giggle as he orders them to swallow or be a good slut for him. And you can always hear it all through that thin napkin excuse of a wall.

And you try to ignore it, try to ignore how you can feel the drag of cotton against your nipples with each breath you take, try to ignore the way your pussy is just throbbing. But it always ends the same, with your hand in your panties and teeth pressing painfully into your bottom lip, trapping little gasps and shaky moans.

Then comes the shame, as you lie in bed and try to convince yourself that he cannot be that good. A sinking feeling in your chest that makes it hard to inhale. An ugly, worming thing that has you teeming with unexplained anger. They must be faking it. They must be. And you almost manage to convince yourself. But thoughts of it - of him - occupy your mind constantly. In class. At lunch, when you’re trying to keep up with your friends and their extremely boring conversations about the student council. Or some charity. Whatever. When you speak to your mother on the phone. You’re disgusted with yourself, you really are, but you always end up pressing your legs together, your soaked panties sticking to your thighs.

Eren. You’ve heard his name many, many times. Cried out, moaned, and screamed by many different voices. You don’t know what he looks like, but you know what he sounds like when he cums. The kind of porn he likes to watch (extremely loudly). And if you listen very, very closely, you can even make out the squelching noise as he pumps his hand around his length.

But when you lie in bed, eyes pressed shut, trying to ignore your throbbing pussy, you wonder how it would feel to have his fingers inside you instead of yours. How much deeper could his fingers reach? Would he also call you his good little whore as your walls squeezed around him, your little cunt leaking all over his hand? And then shame washes over you once again as you cum with his name on your lips.

The exact moment you lose your temper is when you’re woken up at an ungodly hour by the squeaking of his stupid bed and the stupid slut he’s fucking into it. This one annoys you more than usual, for whatever reason. With your patience running thin and your brain still foggy with sleep, you march into the hallway and bang on his door with weeks worth of accumulated rage.

“What do you want?”

Rage that quickly dissipates into earth-shattering embarrassment as he opens the door completely naked. Blood rushes to your cheeks, skin almost burning with the sensation. But you can’t look away. And you can’t help the way you gulp at the sight. You really can’t look away from his cock. Long and thick with two veins curving up each side, dripping with her slick and precum. Despite his irritated tone, Eren doesn’t seem too annoyed at the interruption. If anything, he’s rather amused as you unsuccessfully try to say anything at all. And then he’s fully smirking when he notices the cute little wet spot on the front of your panties.

You could die of humiliation as you slam the door behind you. He’s completely insane. Rude. Shameless. And he seems to be fucking her even harder now. Grunting with every thrust, telling her how good her tight little cunt feels. Almost like he’s mocking you.

A few days pass and he’s standing in front of your door, leaning against it to hold it open. Again, your tongue twists around itself and there is not a single word that forms in your throat that doesn’t make you feel like you might choke on it. He’s intimidating. The way he’s standing, almost like he’s looming over you. Predatory eyes following every little movement of your body. And he definitely notices when your eyes flicker down to his crotch, the outline of his cock clearly visible through, of course, grey sweatpants.

“Do you always stare at people’s dicks?” His lips curl up in a smile that feels sinister. “Haven’t you learned it’s rude to stare?”

Standing so close you can feel his breath on your face. You wish you could get a grip on yourself but it’s so hard to swallow.

He doesn’t wait for an answer. “You know I can hear you moaning my name, right?” It feels like your lungs have been deflated like your body is so heavy with embarrassment you might turn to stone. “You think of me when you play with your little pussy?”

God, you wish you the flames of hell would devour you already, “N- no.”

“I wanna play with it too.” He takes a step and you stumble backwards, trying to create some distance between your bodies. “Make you scream my name properly.” And you feel like your heart might stop.

Courage seems to find you unprepared and you speak before you have time to consider the consequences. “They’re probably faking it anyways.” You scoff, voice filled with venom as you try to salvage at least some of your dignity.

“You think so?”

“Yeah.”

“Then we should test it out.”

He cannot possibly be this arrogant, this vulgar. But he is. And the way he’s looking at you, the way his tongue peeks out to lick at his lips, confirms it. “If I can’t make you scream then I’ll try to be quiet.”

“You’re insane.”

“Aww,” he coos. “Scared you can’t take it?”

Truthfully, you’ve never had anyone as big or as thick as him, but, admitting that to him and his obviously overinflated ego is not something you’d allow yourself to do. Not that you’re considering it. Not like you would ever sleep with someone like him.

But you are right about him, you must be right about him. And if can get the peace and quiet you’ve been dying for just by letting him fuck you. Would it be that wrong? It’s like you’d be using him. Just once, obviously. It’s not like you’ve been thinking about his cock for days. It will be fine. And, well, you can’t even remember the last time an actual man has given you an orgasm.

“You get five minutes.”

Eren can barely hide his satisfaction. You look so cute in your tiny little skirt, with your pouty lips and bratty attitude. He can’t wait to pound it out of you, really. Wasting no time at all, he picks you up with a squeal, makes himself comfortable on your bed and manhandles you over his knees. Your ass up and face pressed into the bed as you call for your phone to set a timer. In five minutes only, he gets his ego crushed and you get silence.

Once again, you’re soaked and he knows it’s all because of him. He pulls your panties down, the pink lace digging into the fat of your thighs. There’s something so embarrassing about the way he’s running his hands over your legs and ass. It feels like your whole body is shivering, and just like that, your confidence starts slipping away. You can’t hold back the whimper that escapes your lips as he pinches your clit. Then runs two fingers down your slit, and inside of you. And they feel so much better than yours, longer and thicker, pressing down into that squishy spot that you can never quite reach on your own. And maybe you’re enjoying it more than you’d like to admit.

This position offers him such a pretty view too. Your puffy lips glistening with arousal. The way your clit is swelling at his touch. The way your hole is gripping onto his digits, pulling him in. Plus, he can easily hold you in place so you can’t run away as he bullies your soppy cunt.

“You act all innocent but this slutty pussy is gushing all over my hand”

You hate that he’s toying with you, like he can sense the desperation within you. And you hate the way he’s stretching you out so well. And you especially hate that you can hear how drenched you are. And the way you can’t stop yourself from moaning no matter how hard you bite down on your bottom lip. Cheeks burning with embarrassment at how exposed you feel. Still, you refuse to give in to his teasing.

“Maybe you wouldn’t be so uptight if you got properly fucked, huh?” He’s talking to your cunt, not to you. So transfixed by how it twitches and clamps down around him at every degrading word that comes out of his mouth. “All nice and wet for me.” Then his thumb is running over your clit and you cum with a muffled scream, legs shaking. Your slick running down his hand.

The timer hasn’t gone off. Your brain is too foggy from your orgasm so you don’t even notice until his voice cuts through the haze. “Three minutes and forty-seven seconds.” He huffs out a laugh, so pleased with himself. “I think she likes me.” He gives your pussy a little slap, a sharp sting as his fingers connect with your already sensitive clit.

“W- wait,” Your voice weak as you try to pull yourself together. “It’s not fair, it’s been a while.”

“So what I’m hearing is-” Eren moves you off of his lap and brings his wet hand to your face, smearing your juices over your lips “You want my cock.” Then he pushes his fingers into your mouth, pushing down on your tongue, making you clean every last drop of cum.

“Just set the timer.”

He’s repositioning you once more and your pussy throbs at how strong he is, how his big hand feels pressing down at the small of your back. It’s filthy. Never before has a man treated you so disrespectfully, like you’re nothing but a toy for him to get off in, to use for his own pleasure in any way he wants. And the worst part is that maybe that’s why you like it. Maybe you’re tired of the nice boys who make love to you so tenderly and touch you as if you might break underneath the weight of their hands. Maybe you want to be held down and fucked within an inch of your life, have every single thought pounded out of your brain. To know that your other next-door neighbour is stroking his cock to your moans and to the sound of skin slapping against skin.

And maybe you’re just about to get your wish.

Chills are running down your back as he slides his cock between your cheeks. You can feel it, heavy and dripping precum on your lower back. Then you’re seeing starts the moments his flushed tip presses into you. It feels even bigger inside you, a bite too big for you to swallow.

“Eren, ’s too much, p- please.” But he loves your pathetic whimpering, your squealing, your choked sobs. He wants to absolutely ruin you.

And then he does. He starts slow, pulling out completely and rolling his hips against your ass, his hands firmly gripping your waist to stop you from sliding down. And each time you can almost feel his cock in your throat. He picks up his pace, now slamming into you. You’re making such a mess on your bed, cunt dripping with every thrust. Your sheets wet with drool and tears, skin taut around your knuckles as you squeeze around them. There is nothing that can stop you from babbling and sobbing out his name at this point, no matter how much you push your face down into the mattress, or bite down on your tongue, it comes. Slutty and obscene and shameful. Just like all those other girls before you.

Maybe you’ll fuck him just one more time. But that’s it!

thank you for reading! interaction is very much appreciated! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

#eren jaeger x y/n #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger smut #eren yaeger smut #aot smut #snk smut #eren yaeger x you #eren yaeger x y/n #eren x y/n

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rebeccajk · 1 year

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So, uhhh, I may have just inadvertently started writing a children’s novel. For real. It was an accident, I swear!

In case you need the context, I’m currently working towards a masters in library science, with a concentration in Youth Services, and to that end this semester I’m taking a YS classes by the name of Resources and Services for Children. And one of this week’s two assignments for that class turned out to be to write the first 3 paragraphs of a hypothetical children’s historical novel about time travel.

And I’ll admit I groaned a little when I first read the assignment because I’m also in the middle of working on a 20-page research paper for another class & that is already occupying so much of my mental real estate. I always tend to struggle with research papers and it just felt like adding in writing fiction on top of that would be too much. I mean it’s been years since I last seriously touched the stuff.

And trying to come up with ideas over the week. I just kept hitting a wall. Finally having reached a stopping point on the paper for the day (I’d written 4 more pages taking the paper up to a total page count of 14 pages) - I decided to just wing it & bang out 3 paragraphs of nonsense as quickly as possible. I was determined to spend no more than 10 mins at most completing this assignment as it had been a long day (having also completed a weekly quiz and the other assignment for the YS class) & I just wanted to be done & able to relax for the rest of the night. An hour and a half later…

Yes, really, I got lost in the writing process for like 90 minutes & upon exiting my apparent fugue state realized I’d written 6000 words/the first 3 chapters of a book along with 3 pages of notes tentatively planning out the rest of the story. And my brain is currently still fizzing with more ideas - all demanding to be let out. And also there’s like a month and a half break between the end of this semester, and the start of the next starting on Dec 3rd that would be the perfect time for indulging in some “recreational” writing. As my brain is currently reminding me of every few seconds. My traitorous, wicked brain. I’m feeling inspired to write in a way I’m not sure I ever have before. I may have a problem… or an opportunity? Something to revisit in December at the very least.

So coming eventually (?) (🤷🏻‍♀️): Lilly Pfeiffer & The Twisting Sands of Time - a queer/trans historical adventure for all ages by Rebecca Kronenfeld.

#librarians #Children’s literature #historical fiction #novel #library science #librarian

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muffindaddystyles · 3 years

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DENTIST THE BAD BOI

Word count: 7k

A/N: Heavily inspired from 90's rom-coms, so if your heart swoons out of loneliness it's not on me sistas -- doctor Harry my fav.

Summary: Harry's a med-student and Y/N's an art student, being neighbours with Y/N was already a living hell for Harry but when she fusses over his cat getting her cat pregnant -- he mighty looses it.

Pairing: Dentist Harry × Artist reader, Frenemies to bestfriends to lovers, platonic affection and loads of bestie fluff.

MASTERLIST, REQUEST FOR BLURBS FROM THIS FIC ARE OPEN || PART 2

“Harryyyyy!!!!” Y/N screamed at the top of her lungs staring at the small picture of ultrasound, blinking at it several times to vision herself back into reality because the more she does the more she becomes grumpy and fussy – cursing the beast of a neighbour who got her little innocent cat pregnant.

She pulled the strings of her pyjama shorts to tighten it around her and hastily towed her feet into fuzzy slippers, giving a stink of an eye to her cat “don't act so surprised you little ragamuffin!” She mouthed at her with venom (as if trippers her cat cares), stomping her way out and writes a whole book of judgements in her rattling brain upon hearing the loud music weeping through walls.

She knocks. Huffs when it goes unnoticed and this time pounds at the door, crossing her forearms infront of her chest. Not unaware and very accustomed; of happy chatter whirling around whenever she’s trying to focus how a certain recipe goes by, his mates chanting his name from outside when he’s too occupied in whatever he's sorting out inside for their arrival, clanking of beer bottles knowing they and her have a long time to go, the music dimming in the wee of night as the door closes after every fifteen minutes and it dawns at that time –-- she always get left with one option and that’s to curse him till she sleeps.

It’s every Friday and Saturday’s story.

“Max stop that before Ni asks fo’ a dummy —-,” His neck's craned to where his friends are sitting on one of the cosy spots. His jaw popping, dimples chasmic from the smirk he’s holding and Y/N gulps then arches her brow when his attention drops down at her, “Oh .... hi, could help ya?” His cocky grin irks her – bubbling a fire in her pit and an urge to twinge his ear and drag him to her apartment, to show him what he did.

“Could you help me!?” She laughs ironically, chases her frowning gaze from the ripped patches of his jeans towards where his curls are brushing his earlobes and it kind of makes her gasp which she traps in fortunately because – he’s always wearing a hoodie, beanie or his hair up in a little fountain like bun rushing through the lobby with his thick books and laptop clutched in his arms, “Yes please .. y’could help me by transferring expenses of your cat's babies every month to me —-...um could simply have them in your apartment too if the first deal’s too bad.” She shrugs. Taking a glimpse from his shoulder of his friends bunched over eachother and he toys with his bottom wet lip, brows stringing into confusion and his bicep flexes making her flutter her eyes away as he grips the knob of the door and closes it behind him.

“What d'ya mean?”

“You’re doing it on purpose right? ‘cos there’s no way —--” He cuts her groans with a snap and runs a palm down his face, “I seriously don’t know what you’re talkin' ‘bout, Y/N.” His lips tinned into a flat line, his posture now resembling her's and she slaps her forehead with the heel of her palm.

“Then you should keep tabs of your beasty minx of a cat who got my cat pregnant!” She exclaims disbelievingly to which his eyes turns saucer and he throws his sinewy arms in between them, mimics her expressions comically, “Is that my fault? Did I get your cat prego?” She blinks up at him rapidly --- he’s such a nerve puller.

“Yes it is! You didn’t get your cat desexed —-,” She stuffs her pointer against his chest and twist it with a grit, “Now he’ll have babies left and right – like a catwhore he is!!” She aerials her hands in different directions rapidly and he takes a step closer kissing his teeth together to seethe his words.

“He’s not a catwhore!”

“Kay then take the responsibility of what he did.” She mutters tapping her foot onto the carpeted floor and guppies at him like a fish when he bursts into taunting cackles, leaning to catch the door-frame before he mushes her under his weight. ”

“Ye -‐..- you’re —- you aren’t serious are ya?” His rosy eyelids snib tightly forming crinkles to where his temples meet his cheeks and she almost pouts, how much she doesn’t want to she could never cascade her expressions.

“Oh my — .... Bambi eyed wouldn’t I’ave had free him of his ball’s heaviness –-- if I’d ‘ave enough money down me pocket?” He scrunches his nose to take a breather from laughing hard.

“Don’t call me that!” She bites at him.

“You’re cute when you’re angry.” He smirks gingerly – drums his fingers against his folded bicep and presses his back to the wall tipping his chin high.

Her blush eager to creep up her neck embarrasses her further more and she hides the softness in her voice, muttering gruffly, “Shut up.” Then turns to walk back into her apartment and to slam the door at his face -- but -- his whistle for her halts her in tracks.

“Hey – Bambi, we could sign the custody of kitties if that what ye'want.”

Three weeks after. There was another knock on Harry’s door, Niall's head perks up and bangs against the bookshelf –- he was trying to keep the furry cat in his lap, for a good warmer but its more enamoured with the ‘clucks' of his daddy’s boots than the soft flesh of Niall’s thigh as Harry chucks his wallet in the back-pocket of his jeans (he was about to go outside and bring some food) and opens the door slightly to see through the trapping chain, “who’s it?”

“Harry ‘s me ....” The voice mousey and worried. Niall recognizes it in a hot-second, frowns and tries to gain snowy’s attention, “What did y'do again? Did ya get the pretty neighbour's cat prego twice, you fat farts.” He chuckles when snowy meows at him innocently and Harry's brows skews together into a scowl.

“Call him fat farts another time —- I dare you —--,” He howls. Throwing angry upset glares towards Niall – their bickering gets interrupted when Y/N slips her hand from the crack of door, pinches Harry’s knuckles and he squeaks, “Ow —- what the fuck!”

“Harry.” Her tone threatening.

Harry puffs out a huge sigh and reveals himself infront of her, he's not in mood to fight with her over their cats, or the parcel Harry forgot to give her which got delivered to him on accident like one of the thousand times (he never found anything freakish until now .. not that he goes through what’s inside, but the labels tell they’re mostly her art supplies), or why he’s been showering for an hour because she now isn’t left with any warm water —- because he just came back from UNI and is dust bones from having two exams in a row.

“Y/N —-,” His face reeks with exhaustion. His curls drowsy, escaping from his knit beanie and his eyes glazed with sea-foam. She kinda feels bad for disturbing him -- but – it’s an emergency and she doesn’t know where to go, except him.

His weary vision falls upon trippers tucked beneath Y/N’s arm, “Is she alright?” He scratches behind her ear and trippers gives out a pained yowl.

“No –-.. that’s why ‘m here. She’s spotting blood everywhere and –-- and I don’t have enough money ...,” She’s embarrassed to say least. Not meeting Harry’s eyes and he gazes her sincerely –- belly doing weirdly funny somersaults. He clears his throat, grogs out gathering all the information in his head from the anatomy of humans and animals he studied till now.

“It’s okay for spotting in pregnancies – but ‐-.. she looks very much in pain s' we shouldn’t risk it. I’ve a friend. She’s practicing vet -- we could take her there.” He offers. Rubbing the back of his neck and Y/N bobs her head vigorously, anything to save her trippers baby.

“Fine –-- yeah, Iemme just wear my shoes ... then we're good to go.” She mumbles. Harry hasn’t seen her demeanour flatter like this ever before, whenever she’s banging and barging through his flat it’s always taut and cold banter.

He has never seen her this defenceless.

He drops his gaze down at her feet and finds that she’s wearing cute pizza slices socksies.

“Is this a clinic, or weed doing zone for animals?” She didn’t try to be mean. It just happened as she takes in the wearbouts of garage, stuffed with drums and musical instruments, spray paint on walls. Harry seems unfazed though, he could be shabbier than her if he wants to –- much fouler that could make her cry.

“Told you. She’s practicing not a vet yet.” She doesn’t question him further. Grateful enough for his help. She might not admit but he isn’t that bad of guy as she once imagined him in her head.

Y/N stifles a snort when a girl with mullet shag, having a stud in her brow and the corner of her lip, attired in all black greets Harry with a hip-check, “Vas’up booger.” She grins and Harry grumbles ruffling her hair with his knuckles.

It leaves Y/N in awe. This’s what group of friends look like -- so fun and annoying, she wanted to have this since when she’s small. Sadly, it’s just her and trippers in her friend group.

“Hi there!” She waves to Y/N trying to battle Harry’s tickles away. Takes trippers from Y/N's arms and coos up at her, “hiyaa baby .. oh, she’s having lil buns inside her.” She laughs and Y/N already likes her so much. As if, she’s the main character of any vintage styled movie.

“Rori here.” She introduces herself as Harry strolls inside her kitchen to rummage through her fridge, “Y/N.” Y/N smiles –-- eyeing Harry who’s whistling and tearing the crate of orange juice open.

When Trippers purrs from a cramp, Rori snuggles her closer to herself – “Her spotting is nothing to worry about –-- maybe she’s ready to give birth. If not I’ll take her to my hospital.”

“So Harry said...” Y/N nods.

“Oohh.” Rori exclaims, wiggling her brows curiously at Harry who’s gulping down juice hungrily, “Booger got normal friends too? Thought, those were all white lies.” He almost chokes at it – downing it cautiously and blinks vividly.

“No. Just neighbours.” Yeah, there’s nothing friendly between them –-- but how it’d be like to befriend Harry. The thought makes Y/N feel snoozy and warm.

“I see.”

“Okay then! ‘m gonna keep Trippers with me for two days –-- figure out what I could do to help her and if she heals I’ll drop her by, how that sounds?”

“Sounds good!” Both, Harry and Y/N chimes together heating their cheeks up. Harry wavers his gaze away, sulking a pouty mouth and turns all stoic again.

He doesn’t want to like, Y/N. Nope. Not at all. In any case.

She’s his bedevilling, bothersome and galling neighbour who just screams at him too much for his likening.

“Would you like something to eat?” She asks him while walking back home and he shakes his head, so she nudges him in ribs, “oh c'mon let it be a thank you, grumpy pants.”

“’M not –-,” He was about to snap at her. Instead, he groped her wrist tightly and tugged her to his side –-- she squeals into his chest as a car passes by them swiftly, honking at them in anger.

Her hair wisps from the friction of Harry’s hoodie as she pushes herself away from him, surprisingly he smells incredibly sweet – that of vanilla and citrus musk, something very cosy and like a morning breeze.

A jolt buzzes through her spine at the fact she was about to get crushed under a vehicle but she grins up at him awkwardly, “Tofu then?” His peepers widen in shock and he slaps his forehead.

“You’re mad, know that.”

Harry and Y/N. Sky and earth . She sprouts buds of irises and peonies when she speaks, her touch that shines away even an intimidating person as if they're mimosa plants, those eyes --- those eyes are itself sepia of grounds on which the tiny creatures celebrates by and Harry's well ... he’s the floss of clouds hidden behind sunshine, his rains would turn her into loam and his uppish thunder would make her loathe him.

Then some gods decided to break the needles and fix it in some other clock that rotates anti-clock wise.

Now, when she’s unable to nourish her flowers he's always there to rain and stroke a tender breeze against her that makes her lush grass snuggle the roots of who she’s.

They were enemies once. Opposite to eachother in many ways but couldn’t live without eachother despite of their distances. Just like sky's a hollow sheet of nothingness without it’s dear earth.

What blossomed their friendship was Y/N's date with this cute boy that is in her ceramic class, (not a date if you’d ask so –-- more like a meetup at this coffee house near her UNI).

Turns out he isn’t that cute. His blunt hands wandered up Y/N’s thigh without her consent and before she could know that, he was groping at it –-- making her gasp and hit her knee against the table. She struggles to writhe out of the chair but he stitches his nails in her skin, “I’m not liking it – you better stop.” She hisses, palms sweaty and slipping trying to remove his grip from around her.

“Don’t act all stupid .. you were hitting at me for hours, you want it but wouldn’t admit.” He groans, rolling his eyes and she feels like crying –-- teeth clanking letting out a shuddering breath.

“I’ll scream.” She warns him.

“You’re not that innocent, you act like.” He smirks, sliding his hand down her insides and before he could reach further Y/N sneaked a fork from the table and stabbed it in his knuckles.

“Fuck.” He shrieks, “Bitch.” He almost screams but stops when everyone stares at him as Y/N’s chair fell against the floor and she stumbles inside the bathroom.

Locking it behind her. Her chest burns with tears. Her vision spins and her fingers shakes as she dials one number she could reach for anytime, it rings then goes to voicemail so her bitten lip wobbles and eyes turn glossy.

She again dials it. There’re noises behind, that of someone instructing and Harry was in his lecture hall when she called .. his heart drops because all he could hear is quivering breath ... it shudders to tight painful gasps and he’s collecting his stuff leaving his seat immediately the doctor who's teaching them Apiceoctomy stares Harry while speaking.

Once he’s out in hallway, “Hey? Y/n are y’there? You okay? What happened?” She bolt her eyes close pressing her head to cold tiled wall and yawps outta fear when someone pounds at the door. Harry runs towards the exist, “Y/N where are you!? ‘m coming .. whatever it’s just --.. just ...” He gripes at his curls pushing them back – his heart beating loud, “ – just stay where you’re ‘n don’t panic .. yeah? It’s okay.” He mutters. Voice soft and assuring.

Her breathing patterns back to calmness – something about him so consoling, so warm and she nods. After some minutes she’s telling him the address and gladly it’s not that far away from Harry.

When he reaches. There are several people waiting at the bathrooms door and he’s knocking on it lightly, pressing his ear to it and grabs the knob (in case he’d have to break it).

When there’s no-response from inside he gets it something’s peculiar, “Bambi. ‘s me Harry.” It clicks and unlocks and he’s tumbling inside while the others groans and disperses knowing it’s invain waiting.

He’s dishevelled. His curls in moppy condition and his eyes full of concern and worry –-- she feels awful for doing this to him.

“Were you crying? Did somethin' happen?” He frowns. Ducking a bit to meet her gaze level and she clears the clump in her throat, “Can we just leave .. please?” He couldn’t believe it’s her voice – the bubbliness and chirpiness of it died to frightened meekness.

Harry takes her hand and walks them outside, Y/N sucks in squeak when the same guy rushes to confront them and when Harry sees his injured hand -- everything pieces together and fury spikes through his veins.

His brows pinches together into a frown, his lips lifting into a scowl and his eyes darkens pitch coal like.

He grips her dainty fingers and moves her behind him protectively and his chest buffs out as he takes a step forward towering the guy – “What d'ya want?” He kisses his teeth together to grit vehemence and that guy lift his trembling hand infront of Harry.

“Look what this bitch —-,” Ah –-- he really pushed Harry’s bad button didn’t he?

Harry grabs him from collar and Y/N squeals rubbing his wrist to pull him back, no-use.

“Badmouth her or anyone —-" Harry sneers and if he'd be a cartoon character – fume would have been coming out of his ears and nose.

“Else what!?” Harry’s more of a practical person -- so he did what he's been learning for years now and breaks his nose with such force it almost knocks him out.

Y/N's still in shock. Walking behind him on jelly toes and a shiver spirals in her bone marrow when her sweat dries from the wind that’s blowing and hitting them in faces.

They wait at bus shelter, sitting side by side –-- thighs brushing now and then flustering Y/N, Moreso when he apologizes everytime.

There’s silence. Harry’s irritated groan breaks it –- he clenches and unclenches his knuckles .. the thin skin a bit bruised.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry –-- .. ‘s my fault.” She rambles. Taking his hand to inspect it, “I shouldn’t have called you at ---..” He frowns confused and pokes her in knee conveying her to stop worrying. Because if anyone needs to be taken care of is her and wish he could just hug her and tell her that it’s not her fault – not even a tad.

“Y/n...” He gains her attention and his gaze flickers from her snotty nose towards her soaky cheeks, “Shut up.” She chuckles at that putting his palm gently back on his thigh.

“Would you like to have, noodles? I know this incredible chinese place ...” He shakes his head. His smile small and kooky, nose scrunched up as he sniffs the air – predicting a rain coming soon.

“D'we have to eat after every tragedy that happens t’you?”

“Yup, tragedies makes me hungry.” It’s her coping mechanism if she'll be honest and that’s what she’s been doing for ages.

“Who are you, Y/N?

She jumps up. Wiggling her fingers for him to take and beams sweetly, “Bambi next door?”

“From when did ya become s' rich?” He giggles. He finds her fucking adorable as she drags him along herself excitedly – she halts infront of the expensive restaurant –- where people dressed in all kind of luxuries and bright pearls are dinning in and she arches her brow sceptically, “Did you really think –- I’ll be able to take us here?” He shoves his hands in his jeans pocket, elevates his shoulders and smiles bashfully.

“Maybe one day, who knows?” They walk towards the chinese take out and Y/N trots backwards –-- facing him all while and rolls her eyes, “’M an artist whose half of paintings goes to trash.” Harry’s eyeballs springs out of his sockets hearing her statement and he really wants to knock some senses into this silly girl.

“Oh my --.. jeez .. those paintings are ‘s good y'divvy. They're hanging onto my walls, been enjoying them fo' free —- what the actual fuck .. really your hands are magical.” He feels annoyed and sad that she felt a need to dump them, because those were some beautiful art pieces.

(“Hmm. It has some hidden meaning beneath it, H. I’m tellin' ya.” Ni would always say. Standing infront of it for hours and hours staring at it.

“Looks like a pussy to me.” Max would quip sipping his bevy and Harry would smack him in head, “Guys how ‘bout we just see it like a fuckin' painting.” He'd grumble focusing back on his books.)

“Really?” She asks shyly and he bobs his head, “Guess you could just keep them then ...” She grins up at him taking the boxes from the cashier.

“Where are we going?”

“You’d see yourself.” She sing-songs galloping over the muddy potholes and Harry looks funny doing it with his spider long legs. Their footsteps echoes in the empty warehouse and Harry didn’t expect her to be the person – that loves finding weird places and spend time there.

“Careful there.” He murmurs. Pressing a hand to her waist when she wobbles on her feet climbing the metal stairs and Harry thinks if she was this clumsy all along or it’s from what happened at the coffee house.

“Holy shit!” He cups a hand around his mouth as the traffic bustles down on the street, “You afraid of heights?” She glances back at him from where she’s standing on the cemented edge.

“Matters. If we're about to act silly and jump, then yes.”

Warmth worms up at his chest and his adam apple bobs, he barks out a laugh when she giggles demanding him to come closer to her, “Come here then you dentist the bad boi.” He tugs the fabric of his jeans from his crotch and hikes his one knee up sitting beside her, other leg swinging in air.

He listens to her hums and happy sounds as she slurps the long noodle inside her mouth, “What you’re afraid of then Harry?” Her question catches him off-guard. Nobody has ever asked what his fears are and he might be famous for an intimidating personality just because he speaks less and owns a roaring bullet –-- he’s still very nice to talk to, but he'd rather spend his time with snowy than waste his time on orgy parties.

“Snowy’s funky farts -- they're ‘orrible!! have to leave the flat fo’ a minute.” He grins when Y/N’s head lulls back and she laughs gleefully, rolling into his side to support herself, “Oh no!” She whines when her chopsticks falls and drops onto the road poorly.

“We can share mine.” He hands her his chopsticks and she thanks him timidly, “What d'you fear?” They pass it back and forth –- his lips wrapping around them as he takes a chunky bite.

Harry tries to down the food that got stuck in his throat when she said nonchalantly, “Dying alone I guess?” He chews the veggies, grimaces and shakes his head -- puts his hand over her knee squeezing it kind-heartedly.

“You’ll not.” She feels like every tulip of light around her’s sparkling – the buzz of having his company tingling her in good way, “Promise?” She asks and Harry lifts his pinky in between them encouraging her to bring her's.

She wasn’t serious about the promise thing it was more onto sarcastic side than to sincerity.

“Promise.” His dimples caters deep and his eyes crinkles when different golden lights dances against her skin making her look prettier than she’s.

He’s gonna fulfill his promise.

Y/N could be sentimental given on occasions and how bad the situation’s – but she bottles it up for good amount until later, it all crushes her completely and she’s unable to stand back.

Now, when there’s eerie quietness in the bus and the world infront of her fades behind in weird shapes and forms in her head because of the speed of vehicle – her mind thought it’d be best time to remorse over what happened to her and her eyes well up at that.

Harry plucks his headphones down upon hearing her soft sniffles and turns her towards him with her shoulder, “Y/N hey ....” His voice tender and dewy as he slides his palm under her jaw and cups her cheek to wipe out her tears with the mild stroke of his thumb.

His gentleness rakes out an agonising sob from inside her and she feels like her organs are clashing together.

“Shh. Bambi you’re okay now, ‘s alright you’re here with me -- shh, ‘m so sorry love —- but it’s over now, yeah? We're going home and I’ll make you chamomile tea, could ‘ve both snowy and trippers cuddle with you while I’ll get you all warm and nice inside this new fluffy blanket I just bought! – how does that sound?” He pets her hair. Brings her closer to his chest and she keeps her nose tucked against his clavicles to stop from crying and make a show.

When she nods, suckling a wet breath he swipes a loose errand of her hair behind, “Sounds good yeah?” She just hums snuggling into him.

Her arms slowly loops around his love-handles and he stows her head under his chin -- rubs her back in circles to soothe the stiff muscles, covers her ears with the headphones he was wearing before – plays acoustic version of Landslide by Fleetwood Mac and simpers when she hiccups his name, but doesn’t respond when he answers – his ears turns pink from fond and his belly overglows with butterflies as she babbles his name till she drops into peaceful sleep.

Y/N found herself in his bed with snowy and trippers ontop of her and Harry snoring on the couch – his gangly limbs not fitting at all.

She really wanted to call him and sleep on his bed, but she drowses back to slumber.

“Grumpy jerk and an actual ray of sunshine. Sorry, couldn’t process it – too much.” Rori teased Harry the last time they gathered and Y/N was there too! though the true statement was claimed after her departure.

Harry’s friends couldn’t believe that he stepped out of his comfort zone and made a new cute friend, now after one year of their friendship it doesn’t feel like they’re neighbours anymore –-- it's just one big home with an alleyway in between.

“What're y'doin', moppet?” Harry chuckles picking up the half eaten packet of crisps, chewy sour candies, wrappers of oreos and the romcom CDs they were playing before.

Y/N's sprawled on her tummy. Feetsie in air and her chin secured in her palm as she looks like she’s seriously about to take an admission in med school –-- she’s concentrating real hard on the thick book under her, eyes fixated on the diagrams of teeth – it makes Harry laugh like a maniac.

“Aish. Your books, gives me an ache.” She massages her forehead, shakes her head as if she tasted something icky and pushes his book away. Harry laughs harder at her antics wrappers flying away from his grasp and he flops onto couch –-- thighs spreading wide and back sinking into the cushions.

“Where?” His lips rumbles as he tries to hold back another fits of laughter when she gets his dirty joke and pouts, lips fluttering into a smile until she bursts into giggles joining him.

“Nope. My cookie doesn’t throb like it used to sneaking on reproduction chapters in biology.” Harry roars out a cackle at that and Y/N grins fiddling with the frizz of her socks, “Heyyyy it’s not funny –- very much sad.”

He suckles a breath in, their grins achy and big, “Stuff your cookie with some jam ‘n you'll be alright.”

“You’re gross!” She fake gags. Hunches over to exaggerate the severity and scares the shit out of Harry when she gasps loudly slapping his knee, “Harry! Harry! Oh my gosh.....ahhhh!” She gallops like a bunny towards the window and gazes up at the sky with glinting eyes, “Harry look! It’s snowing.” He trots behind her with a roll of eyes knowing what’s about to come next.

When she turns around with sparkly grin, hands clasped atop her chest and tippy-toes to beg him, Harry shuts his lids, “No Muffy.” Y/N loves eating chocolate muffins –-- eating them whenever she could possibly ... and that’s how the pet name Harry decided to call her was muffy.

“Please, it would be so fun .. we could have hot chocolate afterwards.” She mumbles tugging at the hem of his chunky yarn sweater.

“Nothing’s fun about snow angles, Muffyyyy!!” He whines. Squinting down at her with one eye and finds her all slumpy, head falling downwards.

“Okie then. ‘m going to sleep.” She mutters in a meek voice pushing past him –-- but he wraps his hand around her wrist and pulls her back to himself, chuckling with wide eyes, “You’re very dramatic and annoyin’ y’know that?”

Instead, she grins bobbing her head shamelessly, pats his chest and dashes to wear his warm jacket, “Biscuits on you -- hot chocolate on me.” She tells him slipping into her shoes with the support of doorframe.

He comes closer to her and her heart thuds into her tiny ribs as he zips his jacket she’s wearing up till her neck and warns her while pulling out her hair, “If I get sick – ‘m gettin'y sick too.”

Harry’s waiting outside the candy shop Y/N just barged in moments ago. He refused to step inside – knowing she’ll use him as a taste tester and at the end of the day his tongue would have a mountain sugar atop his taste buds.

The spring breeze flowery and warm. He shakes his head, smiles softly watching her switch aisles and guffaws loudly catching attention of an old couple siting on the bench behind -- at her eagerness when she started chomping onto the long chewy candy right after getting it from the cashier.

“That’s g'na rot your teeth even before your forties.” He tells her taking the small bag from her and walks beside her, “Your kids are gonna hate you ...” She tells him –- stretching out the candy with her teeth.

“You sure, y'were allowed colas and candies in childhood?” He teases her prodding her side so she throws it at his chest making him laugh and he bends down to pick it up and dump it in bin.

“You’ve got a cute bum.” She whistles and Harry’s cheeks bashes with blush – turns around and wiggles herself, “How's mine?” She hums glancing back at him with cheeky grin.

“Ten by two, I guess?” He bites down a smirk when she spins to face him a bit gobsmacked, “Not even five?” She grumps chin doubling as she tries to see her bum herself.

“Six then?” He giggles enjoying how she’s getting riled up out of nowhere and she stomps away from him so he jogs to catch her, “Bambi. Was kiddin'.”

“You owe me two muffins with the amount of insults you’ve caused my poor bum.” He knuckles at her hair and she slaps him away like a feisty kitten, “I take it back –-- you’re really ten by two.”

“Oi!!!” Now, she’s running behind him. His curls blowing away and his coat ruffling with the zephyr, his head falling back with the belly-ache laughter that bounces against the bricked walls of shops.

It’s Friday night. Y/N is doing her laundry. Plucking out Harry’s socks from Trippers furry ear, her kitties sleeping in bassinet. Harry and Y/N have named them Tum, Tug and Truggers –-- she sits back on her heels upon hearing her door closing and hikes the small basket on her hip trudging outside —-- she didn’t had any clothes that could make her feel warm during these days – even her socks were all soggy -- so was Harry’s, now all she’s gonna do is make a blanket fort and hide in it for hours.

She knuckles at her eyes, blinking the tiredness away to see properly who’s standing in the middle of room, “Harry?” He's wearing a graduation gown and tips his hat with a sheepish smile then waves his degree infront of her, “Guess who's a proper dentist now!?” She’s frozen to her spot –- jaw slacked and eyes blown away in surprise.

“Your bad boi!” The basket falls from her hip onto the floor scaring Trippers and she whispers an, “Oh my goodness.” Before, stumbling towards him and crashes in his arms giving him a tight loving hug. He slinks his forearms around her and squishes his face into the crook of her neck, lips tickling her skin and if it was possible for him to freeze the time and cherish it for some more he'd.

“I’m so proud of you.” She mumbles into him with a grin. He feels so worthy and every hardship he faced now feels like nothing, this's how life supposed be throughout –- but best things always bores fruit for the right time.

“How about we celebrate? Just you and me.” Just you and me. It feels nice to just her and him. Makes her heart swoon. Makes her feel like skies outside are wet and pink, “Umm .. can we celebrate here? It’s okay .... “ She shifts on her feet and he furrows his brows in confusion, lips ticked up as if he’s scrutinizing her.

“You and not goin' nutters for an outing .. seems odd —-,” Then his eyes falls over the surrounding, a heating pad beside his feet – aloe fused socks hanging to get dry, a tray of chocolate muffins, kettle on the coffee table so he puts one and one together himself.

“Oh muffy —-... pizza and cuddles then?” If he wouldn’t be aware of how first few days of her period are hell for her then who would? He’s always making her pot meals and curry rice – feeds her and gets all strict when she refuses to eat anything. She looses her appetite and transforms into something ‘if zombie had a baby with vampire -- it sure looked like you’ he'd always scold her.

Even bribe her with candies. Once they were awfully painful and Y/N really didn’t want to be all dramatic not when their friends were having a good time, she doesn’t like to be a party pooper.

But, when a stinging cramp cut through her pelvis and thighs she was hunching forward with a jolt -- all teary eyes and wobbly lips. Harry left everything and rushed towards her, sitting on his knees on the floor and cupped her throat to make her look at him when she refused to, “Y/N ‘m serious -- you rather tell me what’s happening with ye’ or ‘m throwin' you at my shoulder and takin’ you hospital —... cause fuck look at you been like this since morning ....” He was rambling and Y/N felt like drilling a hole into floor and hide herself there forever.

She was mortified and embarrassed, a terrible combination.

She wasn’t able to tell him infront of all of their friends even though it’s something very normal, so everyone stared and nodded when they left they for Harry’s room.

“Bambi are you okay? I’m not even kidding something’s not —-..” She wipes her nose and tugs at his wrist trying to shush him, when he doesn’t pushes a fingers against his lips.

“Don’t worry. ‘m good --- just —-... umm I’m on my periods.” She rubs her one feet on another and his mouth fall into an ‘o' when realization hit him and his brows clinches together sternly.

He sighs running his fingers through his hair, something he does when frustrated and whumpy.

“Should’ve told me. We could have done this later ... do you want anything? I’ve got pain —--,” His words swells on his tongue when her head bumps against his chest and her hands locks around his neck, hugging him with all her gentle will because nobody has ever cared for her –-- him being so tentative to her makes her want to sob into his chest.

He warms her in all the right places.

“How’re you feeling on scale of one to ten?” He speaks while chewing onto the stuffed crust of pizza. They’re cosied up on the sofa while Mama Mia plays on the telly and she’s cuddled up into him, he's holding her heat pad with the grip of his forearm and she lifts her head mousey-ly from his bicep and whispers – “Eightish...? Now, you’re Dr.Styles.” He giggles at her and pushes her head back against him with his finger.

“What does my being dentist has a connection to your periods?” He dips the pads of his fingers into her pudgy love handles and squeezes them -- she giggles thinking about the joke she’s about to crack.

“You pull teeth, it’s blood and I pull out tampon so it’s —...” Harry chuckles gruntly at her and tickles her more, “Oh no. I know where it’s goin'....”

“You asked for it!” She pouts at him and he squishes her lips together as if she’s a duck toy.

Then they flump back into their cuddling position and Harry rubs her tummy in tender soothing circles, it helps her relax and his breath syncs with her and she really tries not to pay attention to her bratty screaming hormones heating her skin up – her thighs experiencing a quiver and she squeaks down a huffy whimper.

“You okay?” Harry asks. When she squirms against him and she gulps -- they don’t hide stuff from eachother so she tells him honestly, “You’re really turning me on.” Harry’s heart hiccups at that and his palms still over her thighs.

“Is that so?”

He pets her hair and tries to make her stand, “Just go to washroom and jizz one out.”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t? Why?”

“Promise me you wouldn’t make fun....” He frowns and nods bringing his pinky to make the deal.

She clutches her sweater down to her knees, cheeks rosy and mutters out in one breath – “I’ve specific days for that....” Harry really tires to. He locks up his laughs in his lungs and it aches his chest, his cheeks balloons up but at last he rolls onto floor and guffaws into his elbow.

“You said you wouldn’t make fun!!!” She whines kicking his side lightly and he grabs her ankle, “This means all those times you’d be all locked up –- oh my god, you were playing with yourself.” She folds her arms. Her nostrils flares with irritation and she doesn’t even spare him a glance.

“Pet, waiting so long .. it’s a torture to yourself.” He tells her genuinely sitting up with crossed legs and she mumbles knuckling at her eyes, “just some reasons ... horny is bad.” Now, Harry feels kind of terrible pushy person and he really wants to help her out but he’s walking on egg shells here. So, he stops asking anything.

“Rori's girlfriend is a sex therapist —-“ She becomes all fidgety at that and Harry takes in her nervousness, “It’s totally fine if you don’t want to.” He exclaims waving his hands and she gulps giving him a small nod.

“Night time fo' some grumpy muffy!” He coos, brings the blanket to her chin and his pupils dilate adorningly when she asks him, “Could I snuggle you?”

“Ofcourse.” He pecks her temple and tells her to budge over before sandwiching her between him and the sofa.

That whole night all his mind could think was why horny is bad for her?

Y/N was feeling overly warm and heated, a tad achy between her thighs. She vigorously tries to focus on something else but her chest is heaving at this point, even opens the windows and let the cool air hit her but no use –- so she does what have to be done in order to get rid of the throb.

She cosies herself on the bed, switches onto hentai and throws her legs in air to shimmy her sheer white panty down.

“Oh ...” Whimpers teeny-ly when her fingers brushing up her soaking pussyfolds provides her a bit relief – her soft hands wanders beneath her flimsy shirt and touches her skin in the most arousing way possible –-- tweaks her nipples and jerks up, oozing more wetness.

“Ah! Fuck.” She moans easing in two fingers at once and cramps down at them watching the hentai porn –- but it’s not enough, she’s been pushing her fingers in and out for ten minutes now—she’s unable to get to climax.

So she groans sits up and switches to domineering audios, listens to it while fingering herself hard and she has no idea from where her mind gathered these images from -- but -- soon she’s thinking about Harry’s husky rasp, his sea-foam beautiful eyes and those rosy knuckles ring clad hands —-- imagining him holding her down into mattress and pounding into her at a brutal pace, making her sit on his cock and not letting her move –-- his fingers down her petty throat —-- him spanking her ass if she let’s out any voice out and he'd roar at her beg as she'd be lurking at her tenth orgasm –---- every plausible dirty stuff with him.

She was so engulfed into making herself feel good, lost in her own headspace and imaginations that she didn’t hear footsteps approaching and it’s like she manifested him as he stands at the door-frame with blown away pupils –-- guppy mouth and she’s squealing feeling dizzy upon sitting up this quick.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck —-... sorry sorry ... “ He covers his eyes and turns to walk away but bumps his head with a thud into doorframe.

She gasps, knees up and almost shouts, “No!” making him halt mid-track and she’s on the verge of tears, red face and shaky fingers.

“Please ....”

“Stay.”

Harry’s eyes turns soft at that and he walks towards bed, licks his lips wet and brushes the loose tress of her hair away.

“You want me to stay, muffy?” He asks to make sure – she isn’t in haze and all fog minded.

“Yes. I want you to stay.” She doesn’t hesitate this time. Her words honest and full of plead, she needs him, she wants him, she wants to have him.

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alloftheimaginesblog · 3 years

Text

Life Without Colour (PART FOUR)

Soulmate AU: Your vision is in black and white until you meet your soulmate. You and your boyfriend, Steve Rogers, aren’t each others soulmates but you love each other. He introduces you to his friends, the Avengers, and a very odd thing happens.

Characters: Steve Rogers x Plus Size Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Female Reader

Taglist: @domainoflostsouls forgetthisbull handon-h-art yourspecialcrush giulsgotmusic mrsbarnes-rogers luosymekawa linzeyzarcone forgetthisbull calamityreads talgra

Warnings: this one takes a darker turn; trigger warnings for kidnapping, drugged, threats/slight violence, Hydra, angst

Note: this is over 6000 words, enjoy!! x

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

PART FOUR

PART FIVE

PART SIX

A few weeks had passed since you first saw colour; a few weeks have passed since you and Steve talked through everything and made peace with Bucky Barnes being your soulmate which mean a few weeks have passed since you last saw or spoke to Bucky Barnes. After your 3am phone call, you hadn’t seen him. You’d told Steve about the phone call when you were both awake the next morning, telling him as much of the conversation as you could remember. He seemed fine with it, knowing about Bucky’s nightmares and erratic sleeping schedule. In fact, he appreciated the gesture that Bucky reached out to ask what you were comfortable with. What Steve appreciated more though was your honesty and the fact you were straight with Bucky and told him that you and Steve were happy together and nothing would change that.

Everything was fine with you and Steve, every issue had been ironed out and in fact, the two of you had never been closer. You were truly grateful for Steve’s forgiveness and now, the guilt had almost fully disappeared. He had helped you to heal that wound and you had helped to heal his wounds with trust; you had proved yourself to be honest and that it was just one slip up.

Life had been good those few weeks, you spent more time with Nat and got to know about her budding relationship with Bruce. You’d seen the team a bit more than usual as well. No one else - besides Nat and Sam - knew about the soulmate fiasco and truthfully, it wasn’t their business to know anyway. Bucky hadn’t been around much, he’d called Steve a couple of times just to say that he was doing his own thing for a while as per your wishes. Steve was thankful to Bucky for providing that space even if it meant he had only seen his best friend a handful of times since he returned from Wakanda.

Things were good. Until they weren’t.

Steve and the some of the team got dragged to a mission across the country. It was a big one; Hydra were back and trying to infiltrate the systems. Brock Rumlow, or Crossbones as he referred to himself now, was after Steve and he wouldn’t stop until he got him. You didn’t really know what was happening with the mission, Steve was never allowed to tell you a lot about the missions, you just knew that it was a big one and it was dangerous. You hated when Steve was away on a mission; you hated the not knowing part of it all but you supposed it’s what you deserved for falling in love with Captain America.

You didn’t know how serious it was until you had been bringing the groceries into yours and Steve’s apartment and saw four men - three very large, hulking brutes of men - waiting for you. The scream that rose in your throat never found its way out before a gloved hand was forced over your mouth, holding a rag with something strong smelling over your mouth and nose. Brock Rumlow had you pinned in his arms, forcing you to breathe in the chemicals. You tried to fight against him as the fear radiated through your body, trying to put some of those self defence techniques that Natasha had taught you to good use but he was too strong and everything felt fuzzy around the edges. Your eyes were wide as you struggled, trying to escape, trying to scream; trying to do anything that would help to save you. Your heart pounded painfully against your ribcage and you could feel the panic set in when your vision began to blur. You could see the three men approach, weapons in hand but a gruff voice in your ear said, “Stop struggling and we won’t hurt you.” Whether you wanted to stop struggling or not wasn’t up to you but instead, the choice had been taken away and given to the substance that you were breathing in. As the darkness crept in, you heard a faint voice say, “Get Rogers on the phone now.”

Flashes of light, snippets of sound and quick seconds of vision was what you experienced for a few hours as you drifted in and out of consciousness. It wasn’t until a loud bang erupted a few rooms away that you really began to come back to life. Squinting in the low light, you blinked hard, trying to focus on something to figure out where you were. Wherever you were, it was dark and dim and it smelled faintly of the explosion of fireworks on the 5th of November.

You weren’t hurt, your neck ached from the position you’d been in for what you could only assume was the last few hours. You went to move when you realised that your hands and feet were bound. That’s when you really began to wake up. What the fuck? Your memory was hazy but you remembered Rumlow and his goons in your apartment. You pulled at your hands, trying to get loose but the bonds that tied your hands were too tight. Squinting, you looked around the room, it was dark, with a metal door and a few wooden boxes in the corner. You were sitting on a wooden chair, hands and feet bound to the arms and legs of it.

Your mind thought of Steve, oh god, Steve. You knew this had been Rumlow’s doing, what if he had gotten to Steve? What if- what if he- No. You couldn’t think like that. Steve had been on a mission states away from you. Rumlow had come to you because he obviously couldn’t get to Steve, he was drawing Steve out and you were the bait. Steve’s going to find you, (y/n). He said he’ll always protect you and he’ll keep that promise.

The more you panicked, the more you began to struggle; trying to break free of the ropes. Your breathing was quick and ragged as you struggled, your heart rate increasing with every passing second. Tears welled in your eyes as your mind raced with the horrors of what was going to happen to you. You froze when you could hear grunting outside, it sounded close.

Fear kicked you hard in the stomach, making you feel light headed and nauseous. You’d never been this terrified before. You thought that the most you could be scared was that time a spider ran across the bed when Steve was in a shower and you had to deal with getting it out of the apartment but no, tied to a chair after being drugged and kidnapped with explosions and not knowing what the fuck was going on... yeah, that’s a whole new level of fear. You tried to slow your breathing as you strained to listen to the commotion outside of the room you occupied. You could hear grunts and what sounded like punches before the metal door of the room was thrown open and there stood Sam Wilson. A sob got caught in your throat as you saw him.

He pressed his earpiece as he rushed to you, kneeling to help untie you, “I got her, Steve. Second floor, take a right, fifth door down. She’s okay.”

“Oh my god,” you sobbed as relief flooded your senses, “Oh my god, Sam!”

Sam murmured words of comfort as he worked on the ropes that bounded you to the chair, “It’s okay, they’re not gonna hurt you. We’ve got you now.”

He managed to get the last one untied when Steve ran into the room. He wore his Captain America gear sans the mask and carried the shield. As soon as he saw you, he tossed his shield to the side and rushed to your aid. Sam stepped to the side, picking up the shield and playing around with it as he allowed you two a moment to reunite. He was muttering about how the shield was much lighter than it looked.

“Steve,” you whimpered, throwing your arms around your boyfriend and allowing him to pull you up. He held you tightly, breathing heavy into your neck.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered into your ear, pressing a kiss to your neck, “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

“Sorry to interrupt but we gotta move,” Sam said after a minute, “before we get any more company.”

“Are you okay to walk?” Steve asks you, pulling you back to look at you, “Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you say, wiping your eyes, “Tired but I can make it.”

The three of you hurry out, Steve tells you not to look at the bodies on the floor but you do and you instantly regret it. “Are they-”

“Knocked out,” Sam says, answering your question before you finish it, “but won’t be for long so we gotta hurry.”

Everything’s a bit of a blur as Steve and Sam usher you out, careful to take you the safest and quickest path. You feel queasy after seeing the blood and the carnage of the few HYDRA men so your eyes are trained to the ground until Steve has you safe and sitting in the quinjet.

Steve doesn’t let go of you, always touching or holding onto you in some way or another. You’re silent as Sam begins to fly the jet. Steve’s talking to you but you can’t focus on anything other than his hand in yours, “I’m tired,” you whisper, “I’m so tired.” You lay your head on Steve’s shoulder and darkness quickly encapsulates you.

You gasp awake, jolting upwards, “Whoa, (y/n), it’s okay!” A voice says quickly, “You’re okay, you’re safe remember. It’s Steve, sweetheart; it’s Steve. Look at me, (y/n).”

Your mind whirs, the tendrils of the nightmare still creeping around in your brain. Hands on your face force your eyes to stop fleeting from wall to wall and instead focus on the person in front of you. Steve stares at you, telling you that everything’s okay and that you’re safe now. Steve’s hands are on either side of your face as he makes you look at him. You blink hard, as your eyes struggle to focus on him. You hear the rapid beeping of the machine and you register that it’s your measuring your heartrate. His face finally sharpens and you can see him properly now.

“Slow breath in, sweetheart. You’re safe, I promise you. Copy me.” Steve takes a deep breath and you follow suit, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart. Steve repeats to you that you’re in hospital and you’re safe, “No one can hurt you in here.”

You look away from him after a few seconds to look around you and sure enough, you are in hospital. The walls are pure white, too white and you’re in the hospital bed, “How did I get here?”

“We got you and you passed out again, I took you here just to make sure that whatever drug they gave you was out of your system. It’s leaving so you’ll be okay, sweetheart.” He brushes your hair back, “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t ever want to be an Avenger, I know that’s for damn sure,” you mutter as you close your eyes and fall back against the pillows, “How you guys deal with the fear is beyond me.”

Steve smiles but it’s sad. You open one eye, “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head, “Don’t worry about it. You get some rest and I’ll be right here, (y/n). I’m not going anywhere. Doctors want to keep you in overnight just to make sure it’s all out your system, okay? I’m going to wait by your side all night and don’t worry, we have agents at every door in the hospital.”

“Rumlow?” You asked him, voice trembling, “Where’s he?”

“SHIELD are closing in on him, sweetheart,” he sighs, stroking your hair back gently, “Don’t worry... He can’t get you in here.”

As Steve looked over you as you slept, Sam came into the room, “Coffee delivery.” Steve sipped at the hot coffee happily, “How is she?”

“Had a nightmare about it but she’s okay. She’s scared.” Steve’s eyes were trained on you as though we were watching a newborn infant to check its breathing, “God, what if we hadn’t found her in time?”

“But we did and we got her out. She’s safe, Steve.”

Steve shook his head, “But for how long?” He asked as he rubbed his face tiredly with one hand, “How long before Rumlow or HYDRA or someone else targets (y/n) to get to me?”

Sam swallows, “What are you thinking then?”

“She has to go somewhere safe, somewhere away from the chaos and the danger.”

“How long?”

Steve shrugs, “I don’t know... At least until we know all of Rumlow and his men are locked up.”

“You’ll go with her?”

It’s a big decision and he knows that you should be involved in it but he knows exactly what you’ll say; you’ll say that you want to stay with him and stay by his side even if it means living in terror of every bump in the night. He had been reckless, Steve had thought he was untouchable, he thought that you would’ve been safe but Steve underestimated the lengths these sorts of guys go to in order to win.

He shakes his head, hating the decision that he’s about to make but it’s for the best. It’s the only thing he knows that will protect you; it’s the only way he’s happy with you leaving, “No... but I know someone who will.”

Sam shakes his head, knowing exactly who he means and he raises his eyebrows, “You’re kidding, right? That’s a stupid decision, Steve, and you know it.”

Steve scoffs, “I wish... but... he’s strong, he’s good in a fight and I know that he’ll protect her no matter what.”

“But what if... what if they... you know?”

Steve takes a breath and releases it slowly, “Then I’ll deal with that when the time comes. I need to keep (y/n) safe and this is the only way...”

Sam’s hand is heavy on Steve’s shoulder as they watch you, “She’s not gonna like that decision.”

Steve laughs, knowing fine well that you will fight against the decision for all its worth, “Oh, yeah, I know. Probably won’t forgive me in a hurry either.” Steve stands up, “Will you watch her so I can go make a phone call? I’ll just be outside the door if you need me.”

Sam nods, taking Steve’s seat, as Steve grabs his phone from his jacket, dialling one number. He waits outside the room, just across from the two agents that Fury had placed outside of (y/n)’s hospital room 24/7.

“Steve?” He’d been sleeping, the one time Bucky Barnes is getting a decent sleep and his phone rings and wakes him. He always answers when it’s Steve though, regardless of the time or where he is.

“Hey, Buck... I need to ask you a favour.” Bucky asks what Steve needs and Steve begins to tell him, “Rumlow and HYDRA are after me. They kidnapped (y/n), she’s okay, in hospital but no injuries. She’s shaken up pretty bad and... Bucky, this is going to be a big ask.”

“Whatever you need, Steve, I’ll do.” He’s sitting, tugging a shirt on with one arm, “What do you need?” Bucky Barnes would go to the ends of the Earth for Steve Rogers and he knows that whatever Steve needs, it’s something big.

“I need you to take her to a safe house.” Bucky freezes, he had expected Steve to ask him to come help for extra protection or something like that but this... this is huge, “I need you to take her. I don’t know how long for, a few weeks maybe months? No one else, it can only be you.”

“But... Steve...” He doesn’t say much but Steve knows what he’s saying. But Steve, I’m your girlfriend’s soulmate and you’re asking for me to take her into a secluded house alone? Just the two of us for god knows how long? Are you sure that’s a good idea?

Steve sighs heavily, “I know, Buck.” His tone almost sounds defeated, “I know... We were finally back on track and the universe hits out with this... I just need her to be safe, Buck, regardless of who he soulmate is or who she ends up falling in love with; I want her to be happy and I want her to be safe.”

“Why can’t you go?”

“They’re after me, I can’t let you or Sam or the team pick up my mess. I have to deal with it. That’s why I need you to go with her. You’re just as strong as me and... I know that you’ll keep her safe. I know that whatever happens, you’ll do everything you can to protect her... I need you to take her until we have Hydra locked up.”

Bucky licks his lips as he thinks about it. He doesn’t really know how to feel about it but he doesn’t really have to, Steve needs him and he’d follow that scrawny kid into the depths of hell if it mean he’d be helping him, “Okay, I’ll help. I’ll need a few days to find a safe house and get it prepped then I’ll fly out, okay?” He agrees to Steve’s ask though he has a niggling feeling in the back of his mind that all of this won’t go to plan.

“Thank you, Bucky.” Steve closes his eyes as he leans against the wall, “You can’t tell me or anyone else where you’re going or where you’re taking her. I probably won’t be able to contact you so-” I’m leaving you with my girl alone with no contact from me or the team for weeks or months potentially, “- you gotta keep her safe. I’ve got some cash together for you to buy everything with that so you’re untraceable. Fury’s giving us more cash since we don’t know how long you’ll be away for.”

Bucky swears on his own life that he’d protect you with everything he has. Before Steve hangs up, Bucky says, “Steve, I just want you to know that no matter what happens... no matter what feelings arise... I won’t- I won’t do anything, I won’t act on anything, I won’t try and do anything about them...”

It’s the reassurance Steve needs and he feels a lot lighter now that Bucky’s said that. He smiles as he release a long breath, “I know you won’t, Bucky. I’ll see you soon.” Steve hangs up and walks back into the hospital room where Sam has Marvin Gaye playing quietly on his phone, “Do you just play Marvin Gaye to anyone in a hospital?”

Sam rolls his eyes, “It was too quiet, man! How did it go?”

“He’s onboard.”

Sam claps him on the shoulder, “You sure this is what you want? You know that I could take her or you could and I could hold the fort?”

Steve sighs, “It has to be him.” He shrugs, “I... I can only hope that nothing happens but god knows... All I know is that she’ll be okay with him.” The pair look over you as Steve’s thoughts swirl. This might be one of the last times you’re together in a romantic sense, he doesn’t know if you’ll come back loving Bucky or hating him and it makes him feel sick at the thought but he’s okay with it. He wants you to be happy and if that means it’s with Buck, then so be it.

“Absolutely not.”

“(y/n), come on-”

“No, Steve!” Your voice is raising due to the sheer stupidity of his request, “You’re saying that because you’re being targeted that means I’m a target too, I understand that, but what I don’t understand is why you’re asking me to go live in a safe house with Bucky for god knows how long! He’s my soulmate, Steve, I- I can’t.”

“The plans have already been made.”

“Then unmake them!” You’re angry and he gets it and to be honest, he doesn’t want this to happen either but it has to. He’d told you the next morning when the drugs were completely out of your system. Sam was back at the apartment checking for bugs, just in case Rumlow’s gang planted some when they were in and then he’d take you back to the apartment for you to pack a bag, “I’m not going Steve.”

“Yes, you are.” He crosses his arms over his chest and looks at you with a furrowed brow. He understands that you’re an adult who can decide their own fate but Steve is choosing this one for you, “You might not understand right now but when you come out the other end of this safe then I hope you’ll understand then.”

You shake your head as tears threaten to fall. You’re angry at Steve, that he made this decision and you knew you would be going no matter what fight you put up. It annoyed you, made you feel small and made you feel like a child who couldn’t make their own decisions, “Not without you, Steve. Why can’t it be you?”

“I’m trying to keep the fight away from you,” he says softly, hand on top of yours, “Bucky’s the only way you’ll be kept safe.” Silence falls for a moment before he speaks again, “I know what this means. I know what this could mean for... for us. I know that you could come back in love with Bucky and he for you. I know that you could come back and break up with me on the spot... That’s a risk I am willing to take.”

You shake your head, “No,” you whisper, “I’m not willing to take that risk, Steve.” You could trust yourself, that wasn’t the issue. You knew that no matter what, you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise your relationship with Steve. But... you and Bucky were soulmates and that had to be for a reason and it worried you that being alone with him for an unlimited amount of time would cause something to stir. You trusted yourself not to cheat on Steve but you didn’t trust your heart not to hurt Steve.

Steve crouched down beside the hospital bed and lifted your hand to his lips, “I know, sweetheart,” tears burned at his own eyes as he spoke to you, “I know the risk. I know that you could come back and we could break up instantly and if you want, we could break up right now so that whatever happens, you wouldn’t have to feel guilty about it-”

You swung your legs out of the bed, throwing your arms around him, “No,” you wept sadly into his shoulder, “that’s the last thing I want.”

He held you tightly, knowing that this very well could be one of the last times that the two of you had together in a relationship, “I’m doing this because I want to protect you, (y/n)… Bucky can protect you.”

“I-I love you, Steve,” you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his neck. My god, how you loved him. He had changed your life, brought so much joy and happiness to it, “No matter what, I love you.” The two of you stayed like that for a long time, just needing to feel each other and needing to be with each other because... who knew what would happen over the course of the next few months?

With doctors granting you permission to leave the hospital and after having Sam debug the apartment, Steve took you home for your last night with him. The car ride to the apartment was quiet and your hand never left Steve’s as he drove you both home. You had relented with the decision, knowing full well that regardless of whether you said yes or no to leaving with Bucky, you would be going anyway. You and Steve had talked things over, about Steve’s duty to the job and to taking down Hydra, about Bucky and how he wasn’t going to overstep a line with you or anything like that. The pair of you spoke about the non-existent contact you’d have.

“Hopefully it won’t be too long,” Steve said, “maybe just a few weeks but these days, Hydra is everywhere and nowhere all in the one, it could be months. Bucky managed to find a safe house relatively quick. For obvious reasons, I don’t know where it is or what continent it’s on but he said that it’s secluded and it’s safe. He said that it comes with minimal furniture so tomorrow morning, you’ll leave.” You squeezed his hand tightly, not wanting to speak for fear of bursting into tears. Steve glanced over at you and gave you the tiniest of smiles. He lifted your hand and pressed a soft kiss to it.

When you reached the apartment complex, there were three black SUVs parked out front, Steve saw you looking, “SHIELD agents,” he told you, “We’ll have agents outside the apartment and one in each of our neighbour’s apartments.”

“Jeez,” you murmured, “I’m only here for one night, it’s like I’m a bloody Kardashian.”

Steve smiled slightly, glad to hear you make a joke, he wrapped an arm around you as you walked into the building, “Only the best for you, my love.”

You were rather apprehensive about going back into the apartment. It had been yours and Steve’s safe place and now... it seemed compromised almost. Steve seemed to pick up on your worry, “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said as he took the keys out of his pocket, “It’s been cleaned, debugged and also...” He unlocked the door to reveal red rose petals running from the front door into each room.

“Steve,” you whispered, looking at him with a smile. You walked into the apartment, hanging your coat up and kicking your shoes off. You followed the petals into the kitchen where there was a candlelit dinner waiting for the two of you.

“It’s not much but I had Nat come round and make it special since it’s our last night together.” Note; ‘last night together’ is different from ‘last night together for a while’. A pang of sadness shot through you, you leaned up to kiss him softly, whispering that you loved it.

“There’s a bath waiting for you if you want it. Some Chinese takeout if you’re hungry.”

You hugged him tightly, “Just hold me for a while.” So, the pair of you stood in the kitchen, holding each other in the dim light not knowing what would happen next.

It was a few minutes later Steve tugged you to the kitchen table where you both sat down, “You remember our first night here?” He asked you as he handed you some take out cartons and began to eat.

You stifled a laugh, “Yeah, no electricity for three days and no hot water either!”

Steve laughed with you, taking a fork full of chow mein, “Yeah, having to eat Chinese take out on the floor with torches and candles all around us. Could’ve cried when the electricity finally turned on.”

You rolled your eyes, “You could have cried?! What the hell, Rogers? You teared up like you were watching your first born son marry!”

The ice had been broken and the two of you could freely talk and laugh without boundaries. You both carried on as though it were a normal night, a date night with no mention As the night went on, you had a nice romantic bath as Steve cleaned the dishes and when you were finished, things ended in the bedroom.

You always loved laying on his chest, listening to the slow rhythmic beat of his heart and his steady breathing. Most people, if they knew it was their last night with someone would probably fuck until dawn but neither of you wanted that. You wanted nothing more than to lie with him, talking and just being there and being present. Steve wanted to hold you, wanted to tell you how much he cared and loved you and he just wanted to be with you.

“Whatever happens,” you said softly, “I just want you to know that this was real; this is real - that although we’re technically not soulmates, I truly believe that we are.”

Steve pulled you tighter into him, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I want you to know,” he said, “that no matter what feelings you start to have for Bucky, no matter how you feel towards me in the end up... I won’t blame you. I won’t expect you to love me like this on the other side. I won’t expect you to still want to be with me. I know that I’m forcing you into this situation and that kills me to do but I have to do it so whatever happens, it’s not your fault.”

You look up to him as you both whisper your confessions of undying love before kissing him gently. It’s a soft kiss, full of emotion and full of such sorrow. It’s a goodbye. You would say goodbye officially tomorrow but this was the real goodbye, this was the intimate goodbye, the letting go of the intertwined hearts and this was it. The kiss soon turned more passionate and then the two of you were confessing your love in the most intimate of ways.

“How are you feeling about all of this?” Natasha asked you as she sat on yours and Steve’s bed. You were in the process of packing your bags.

“I feel like I’m perpetually on the verge of tears,” you answered, as you folded some t-shirts and squeezed them into the bag, “It’s hard, you know? I understand why but my god, Nat, I hate this.”

Nat studied you carefully and you knew the question that was on her mind. What if you fall for Barnes? To be honest, it had been the question on everyone’s mind that morning.

“I’m shit scared,” you admitted to her, dropping the bag onto the bed beside her as you ran your hands through your hair, “I am terrified. I am so in love with Steve and what if I come back madly in love with Bucky? Or better yet, in love with the two of them?”

Nat stood up, placing a gentle hand on your arm, “Hey, whatever happens, it’s going to be okay. You can’t stress about something that might not even happen. You have to take it day by day and if you fall for him then so be it. If you don’t, great. If you’re in love with the two of them then that’s something you and Steve have to talk about and sort out when you’re back. Don’t stress about it now.” She pulled you in for a tight hug, a very un-Nat thing to do, “Just know that I’ll be helping Steve sort out the Hydra mess, I’ll keep his ass safe and in line and hopefully it won’t be too long before you’re allowed to come home.”

“Thanks, Nat.” The two of you pulled apart, “You’ll need to keep a diary or something to update me on everything I’ll miss... especially with you and a certain Dr Banner.” You placed your phone on top of the counter, you couldn’t take it for fear of tracking so there was no point in having it. You sighed as you placed it down.

Nat rolled her eyes, “Yeah right. Let’s get this wig sorted.”

The Avengers were never too good at disguises, it usually always consisted of sunglasses and a cap so, in order to hide your identity further, Nat had brought you a wig the opposite colour, cut and style to your hair just now and some contact lenses of a different colour to your natural eye colour.

After a few minutes, you looked in the mirror, staring at someone who looked like a stranger, “Oh god, I hate it.” The top you wore wasn’t at all flattering for your body type. You tugged it down, wishing that it wasn’t quite so figure hugging. You didn’t mind things that clung to your body, you’d worked through a lot of the body issues you had but the top was a horrid colour and paired with this hair and these contacts... you didn’t feel like a Kardashian anymore.

Nat laughed, “That means it works. Honestly, you look fine, stop worrying... Let’s go show the boys.”

You walked into the living room with your packed bags to see Sam and Steve standing talking. Steve smiled when he looked at you, “You look... interesting.”

“Shut it, Rogers.”

“I mean, it definitely works because I look at you and I don’t see (y/n), I see a complete stranger,” Sam offered.

“You ready?” Steve asked softly, taking the bags from you, “Got everything?” You nodded, murmuring a ‘think so’. He smiled and pulled an envelope out of his back pocket, “I wrote this letter this morning. I want you to read it when it’s time...” Your confused expression made him explain further, “I want you to read this letter when you start to feel things... things for Bucky. If that happens.” You took a breath, mind whirring with the possible things that could be in that letter, “You’ll know when to read it.”

It was then that there was a knock on the door. Sam answered it to see Bucky Barnes standing wearing a cap and, you guessed it, sunglasses. He wore leather gloves to cover his metal hand and carried a bag over his shoulder. He lifted the sunglasses to look at you, “Ready?”

Oh god, it’s happening.

“I don’t want to cry because I’m scared of the contact lenses,” you whimpered as tears threatened to fall. You hugged Nat and Sam, thanking them for their help, before Steve said that he’d walk out with you both. He picked up your bags and the three of you left the apartment to the black car that was outside. Bucky packed the three bags in the trunk before hugging Steve.

You couldn’t hear what the two of them said in the brief encounter but you supposed that it would be Bucky reassuring Steve that you’d be safe and that he wouldn’t act on any feelings that may grow. Steve clapped him on the shoulder and Bucky got into the driver’s seat of the car.

Steve turned to you and wrapped you in his arms. God, you just wanted to cry. You wished that you didn’t have to go, you wished that you could just stay with him but you couldn’t. You had to leave. They’d already gotten to you once and Steve wouldn’t dare let it happen again.

“I love you,” you told him softly, “I love you so much, Steve. I-I love you.”

He held you tighter, “I love you, sweetheart. Everything’s going to be okay. I’ll get this sorted so that you can come home to me.” You pulled back and he brushed your cheek, wiping your tear gently, “No matter what happens, it’s okay.” You hugged him again before he leaned down and kissed you softly. Bucky, who had been watching in the rear view mirror, looked away, “Goodbye, (y/n).”

“Goodbye, Steve.” He opened your car door and you slid inside.

“Thank you, Buck,” Steve said, clearing his throat, “Be safe.” He closed the door and Bucky started the engine, pulling out of the apartment complex. Your eyes were trained on the spot where Steve was, watching as he got smaller and smaller until you couldn’t see him anymore. It was only when he was out of sight that you allowed yourself to really break. Fuck the contact lenses, I’m too sad to care.

Bucky glanced at you as he drove, feeling a pang of sadness for you as you wept in the seat beside him. He knew that part of the reason you were so upset was because it was him that was taking you, had he not been your soulmate you would have probably been okay but because he was your soulmate, it filled you to the brim with worry, guilt and pure sadness. All he could do was drive. Nothing he could say could help you. He reached to his side, taking a pack of tissues from the door’s compartment before handing them to you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, taking them from him. He couldn’t do much to help but he had done enough to make you feel comforted and to make you feel as though you weren’t alone. You wiped your eyes as you stared out of the window, wondering where the next few weeks would take you.

#lwc #life without colour #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #steve rogers #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x plus size reader #steve rogers x reader #reader insert #plus size reader #steve rogers/reader/bucky barnes #marvel #soulmate au #avengers #reader #steve rogers/reader #bucky barnes/reader

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chocosvt · 3 years

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⚬ pairing: joshua x reader ⚬ word count: 5040 ⚬ warnings: mentions of alcohol ⚬ genres: FLUFF, shallow angst, guitarist/bandmate!joshua, some annoying neighbour tropes, a little bit of pining, wintery pizzazz, joshua is a hopeless romantic :(

✧�� synopsis: somebody new just moved into the upstairs apartment. they’re loud, irritatingly sweet, and unfortunately, very pretty. but you’re not looking for a new relationship, even if it comes in the form of joshua hong.

✧✎ a/n: oooUUooouu YES! this is a gift to my lovely secret santa, @luvshuas !! ♡ in my first ask, i learned that dani liked using paint by numbers, AND I THOUGHT THAT WAS ADORABLE so i helped use it to create this fic! dani, you are such a joy to talk to AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS XOXOXO !! :D

Last week, someone new had moved into the empty apartment one floor above yours. You didn’t know who. Not their name, not their face, just that they occupied the once vacant space of room 24D. Supposedly, their next-door neighbours had already brought them some housewarming gifts. A watering can filled with flowers, a wreath of white candles, and an old sewing tin now converted into a container for oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.

All closely resembling the gifts you received during your first week at the apartment complex. It made sense though, considering most rooms were home to very elderly couples. At first, you planned a brief gap in your day to visit this stranger and welcome them to such a small complex. Find out if they were old or young, endearing or irritable, sensible or flat out crazy. But you never visited room 24D, because you were currently in a moat about your ex-partner.

An extremely deep, inescapable moat.

Not only had they broken up with you on the day you planned to introduce them to your parents, they decided it would be most efficient to do so through a stupid text message. From Monday to Friday, you’d been moping in a curled-up ball on the couch, blowing into tissues and flicking through the holiday romcoms even though they were all so cookie-cutter and dull. To make matters worse, it had been snowing all week, shutting you indoors as a draft built up outside the windowsills.

You had completely forgot about the newbie who’d just moved in upstairs. Until one day, when they decided to make their presence known in the most jarring way possible.

That particular morning, you were finally feeling stable enough to not eat dry, stale cereal straight from the box. You were feeling well enough to avoid another twelve hours moulding into the couch. While a cold wind blew against the windows and rattled the glass, you poured yourself some tea with the new teapot your mother parceled as an early present. And that’s when you heard it: an eruption of electric sound from the floor directly above yours. It sounded like a guitar, if that guitar were plugged into a massive amp and its chords were being plucked by one thousand fingers.

Coincidentally, you spilt tea, scalding and runny, all over the countertop. It started dribbling down your cupboards and creating blotches on the tiled flooring. At random, the sound stopped.

By lunchtime you were unwinding in the shower, your eyes shut as the water poured onto your face and streamed toward the drain. When you squeezed out some shampoo onto your fingers, you heard the chord progression again. This time louder, if that was even possible. The bottle flung from your wet hands and crashed against the floor, startling you half to death, a trail of wasted shampoo then painted to the wall. But the sound didn’t stop immediately. Unlike last time, the stranger railed on their guitar for half an hour at least.

Yet the last straw didn’t come until evening.

Sitting at the kitchen table with a water jar next to your elbow, you were using your new paint by numbers kit. You had been waiting all day to try it, brushing in the mesmerizing colours of a watery-purple landscape. For the last time that day, you were jolted by the riff of an electric guitar, causing you to jerk a huge, thick streak of black paint right across the paper, effectively ruining it. How horrible. How Terrible.

And you were not going to let the incident slide.

Room 24D.

The room directly above yours. After banging your fist rather inhospitably against the door, you couldn’t lie that the face which greeted you was a definite shock. A young man probably in his early twenties, with curly, brown hair styled neatly yet in disarray, and these wide, glass-like eyes that felt so penetrating you were afraid to glare him down. In fact, you were a bit nervous.

“I don’t know where you stayed at last, b-but at this complex, people don’t usually slam on their electric guitars.”

But so what if you were nervous? You had grown accustomed to sharing this complex with seniors. The thought of someone this young (and admittedly – quite beautiful) had somewhat stunted your brain. The stranger looked at you as though he had nothing to say. He started bobbing his head and shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I’m guessing it doesn’t happen ‘cause everyone here is over seventy and crochets scarves until bedtime. It’s not my fault you’re the only one who’s still got decent hearing.”

Your eyes narrowed; your brow heavily creased.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

He hesitated at first, then replied, “Joshua.”

“Okay, Joshua, I’d rather have everyone in this building crocheting scarves out the damn window if it meant not listening to a stupid electric guitar all day. You ruined my paint by numbers kit.”

Joshua laughed. “Your what?” He then flashed a grin which suggested he was holding back a satirical comment.

“My paint by numbers kit!” You repeated, feeling your nervousness dissolve into irritation. “It’s ruined, and I’m blaming it on you because it’s your fault. My whole week has been awful and you just made it even worse. So there. I hope you’re happy.”

For some reason, Joshua leaned his shoulder against the doorframe like someone who had all the time in the world. He appeared way too comfortable. Something about it irked you while simultaneously pulling this weird, fuzzy string in your chest. The boy folded his arms and raised a curious eyebrow.

“Why was your week awful?” He questioned.

There was a sweetness to his voice which hadn’t been there before, and you absolutely weren’t going to fall for it, even if it sounded like he ate a spoonful of honey and might taste just as good.

“No. Forget it,” you sighed, waving a dismissive hand, “I said what I had to say. Just be quieter, please.”

You turned around sharply, making your way toward the elevator based at the end of the corridor. Those magnetic eyes of his seemed to be glued to your backside, an almost palpable feeling.

“Okay!” He called out. “Great chat! Nice to meet you too!”

The boy was being wholly sarcastic of course. After returning to your apartment, you cleaned up the kitchen table, sweeping away your paint by numbers kit into a drawer just in case you were one day struck with the motivation to fix it up. Probably not.

“Uh—excuse me? You called me, remember? So don’t go shifting the fault like always. I just can’t believe how immature you are! And, you know what, I’m hanging up now! Don’t call back!”

Smashing your finger against the phone screen, you ended the call, silencing the aggravated voice that had pounded through the line just a second before. An unfortunate misdial resulted in your ex phoning you at the supermarket. The interaction immediately turned south, prompting you to hurry outside into the snow, wedging the brown paper bag of produce underneath your arm and against your chest, all while you barked into the phone with the other hand.

Snowflakes were brimming the edge of your wool hat; your fingertips numb and stiff. Your pacing, impatient footsteps were stamped across the white ground. Things had been difficult enough without your ex invading even the most boring parts of your life, and now a mundane stop at the market had left you intensely unsettled.

As you huffed a web of your breath into the air, you spotted something unexpected: Joshua helping Mrs. Akané load the groceries into her small silver-bullet car. She lived alone on the bottom floor of the apartment complex, one of the kindest old ladies in the whole building. Every winter she had knitted you a pink pair of mittens. When Joshua opened the car door for her, she gave him a gentle pat on his shoulder and her patented rosy-cheeked smile.

Since you scorned him for his abrasive guitar playing, it only happened less often, though it was never any quieter. You realized that he belonged in a band. From time to time they would take the stage at the downtown bar, engendering a space so packed it was nearly impossible to wriggle to the counter for a quick drink. Joshua invited you to his Friday night gig – which was tonight – and while you had contemplated the decision to attend, the disheartening encounter with your ex had officially soiled the mood.

Joshua noticed you, probably looking cold and mad.

“So,” he began, “are you coming tonight?”

Adjusting the groceries underneath your arm, you shrugged, meanwhile the hollow nature of your eyes screamed a blatant no. If anything, you wanted to be back on that living room couch, eating an entire tray of frosted shortbread cookies and dabbing at your tears.

“Seriously?” Joshua frowned. “You’re gonna pass? It is ‘cause you’re still mad about the guitar playing? I’m sorry, okay.”

“No,” you shook your head, “no, no. It’s not because of your disruptive, loud guitar playing. I’m just not having a good day.”

Bits of snow began to powder Joshua’s brown hair. His cheeks were blushed and his nose rosy.

“No offense,” the boy laughed, “but it seems like you’re never having a good day.” He then shook his head, scattering the snowflakes from between the fibres of his hair. “How about you come to our little concert shindig thing, listen to our set – which is great, I promise – then we can talk about it, back at my place.”

For a moment, you paused, and this perplexed expression briefly eclipsed your features. Did he just subtly attempt to persuade you into some sort of… Date? No, it was too soon for anything like that. He was probably joking anyways (despite his straight face).

“I don’t know… I’m tired. Maybe another time.”

You started carrying the brown bag of produce to your car, parked just down the street. Joshua chuckled and tagged along at your side, the snow crunching softly under your feet.

“When’s another time?” He asked.

Throwing open the car door and sliding the bag inside, you sighed. “Another time is another time. It’s self-explanatory.”

“So you’re not coming?” Joshua questioned in finality.

“No.” You replied, rubbing your cold fingers together, attempting to spark some warmth. “I’m not.”

It was then that Joshua took your hands in his, a gesture that completely flicked you off your axis, and started to squeeze them, kneading your skin with his thumbs until you felt the uncomfortable stiffness gradually wear off. He brought your hands close to his face, pursed his pink, very pretty lips, and started to blow on them. A sensation fizzled to life in your lower tummy. Not only were you heating up significantly, but you felt too hot. Scary hot.

“That’s a shame.” Joshua said, releasing your hands carefully, like he’d just touched gold. “But I can wait for another time.”

You couldn’t sleep that night.

Most likely because you were regretting the decision to not attend Joshua’s gig at the bar. The fact that no matter how hard you pushed, memories of your past relationship would still linger like a heavy mist, preventing you from being happy, from detaching, from forming new connections. Wet drops of snow tapped against your window. And then, at around one in the morning, you heard a knock at your apartment door.

Joshua. Evidently intoxicated. His guitar case slung over his back. A foggy sort of look disrupting his usual countenance.

“Hey there,” he mumbled, rubbing at his eye, “couldn’t get into my room. Think I could crash—” the boy stopped midsentence to yawn and hiccup, his face flushed pink, “crash here?”

“Did you walk home from the bar?” You asked, disregarding his inquiry.

“No, Jihoon drove me.” Joshua answered, bracing his hand against the threshold. “Pretty please? Can I stay?”

“Fine.”

You took the dark green guitar case from Joshua’s back, stamped with numerous luggage stickers that made it seem as though he’d flown all over the globe. After settling the case beside the couch, you helped Joshua lie down, though he flopped rather ungracefully with his face squished into a pillow.

For an awkward moment, you were just standing there, twiddling your thumbs as Joshua squirmed onto his back.

“Do you want a glass of water?” You proposed.

Joshua carded a hand through his brown locks and further dishevelled them. His face seemed to glow and the manner in which his eyes softly shut had you feeling oddly sympathetic. Like you needed to take care of him.

Rather than answering your question, Joshua sighed.

“I can’t believe you flaked on me.” He said. “I looked forward to seeing you there all week. I told my friends about you.”

Your toes dug into the carpet; teeth fastened into your bottom lip. You couldn’t tell if he was rambling drunken nonsense or being wholly truthful. Joshua titled his head to the side, nestling his cheek comfortably against the pillow.

“Like I said, there’ll be another time.”

“Can I have a blanket?” He mumbled sleepily.

Disappearing into your bedroom for a moment, you grabbed Joshua a spare blanket which often lied next to you on the bed, just in case it got a little too cold at night. Your heating was fairly shabby.

“Here you go.” You said, dropping it on him.

After pulling the fabric up to his chin and spending a minute getting comfy, Joshua started smiling, lashes long against his cheeks.

“Appreciate it.” He replied. ”Kick me out early if you want.”

When Joshua scheduled his next gig at the bar, you made sure to be there, settled near the back at the cocktail counter. As you anticipated, the space filled up quickly, and you kept tucking in your legs whenever someone scooted by to use the washroom or find a better vantage point. You didn’t mention that you were coming. It was supposed to be a surprise which had oddly excited you. Like you were someone important to him, even though you probably weren’t.

You enjoyed his band’s performance. While sipping at something syrupy and a little too cherry flavoured, you couldn’t help but smile behind the glass, shake your foot even, as Joshua strummed down on the electric guitar. There was a pink-haired drummer seated behind him, and a bassist with a dashing, heavenly smile. Eventually, the tone of their music shifted near the end of the set. Joshua exchanged his electric guitar for the acoustic one kept in that dark green, stickered case. And when he started to sing a slower, more sentimental song, you felt something cotton-like in your chest.

How could his voice be this soft? How could it turn so sweet? How could his eyes switch from a powerful ripple to calm water? And why were you heating up all over? The glass hit your knee as you continued to watch Joshua sing, as though you’d fallen into a trance, like a sailor caught by the lullaby of a siren.

But then, as your eyes scanned the crowd for a brief moment, they attached to some who looked awfully familiar.

Goddammit. Of course.

Why did your stupid ex have to be everywhere?

Why did they have to invade every aspect of your life? Especially the enjoyable parts? Once the stage ended and Joshua began thanking the crowd for an energetic reaction, they turned around and grabbed their friend excitedly. Yet, the thrill on their face disappeared the second they noticed you, glaring bitterly, angrily, still clearly hurt. That’s when you decided to leave.

You were halfway down the block when you heard your name being shouted. Pausing beneath a street lamp, you attempted to peer through the heavy flurries sweeping down from the night sky. A silhouette began to take shape. Joshua finally pressed through into the light, without his jacket, his equipment, or even a damn sweater.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” You questioned him, wondering how cold he must be feeling in that white t-shirt.

Joshua took a few more steps forward. “I saw you there,” he replied, still trying to catch his breath, “but then you just stormed out. I nearly threw myself down the back entrance trying to catch up with you, y’know. How do you walk that damn fast?”

“I just—I wanted to beat the crowd home.” You lied.

Joshua took in another big breath, then nodded his head. “So, what did you think? You like the music?”

“It’s cool… Why did you leave without a jacket? I mean, it’s snowing like crazy. You’re gonna get hypothermia or something.”

“Well, I didn’t want to let you get away.” The boy laughed, brushing off some flurries compiling on his shoulder. “It was great to see you there. But, why didn’t you tell me? Why the secrecy.”

You shrugged. “Why should I tell you?”

At that, you weren’t expecting Joshua to have a response. Maybe he’d be a little puzzled and have to think about it. Instead, he seemed to be formulating a surprise of his own.

“Because I have a song for you,” Joshua revealed, “I wrote it with Jihoon. It’s an acoustic thing. But I could turn it hard rock too.”

It felt like someone had turned the table. Ironically, you were the one struggling to reply, your brow furrowing in the dim light as you stared at this boy with his glowing cheeks and his hair disrupted by the flakes of snow. You sniffled, cold air hitting your lungs.

“Why would you write a song about me?”

No one had ever done such a gesture for you before. Not that you had been acquainted with many musicians or lyricists. You felt strange, but also warm, and heart-fluttery, and like you were possibly falling for someone harder than ever before. Joshua approached you tentatively and grabbed your hand, his eyes soft.

“Probably because I like you.” Joshua murmured. “A lot.”

Your heart started to pound, and it felt like someone was banging their fists against your chest. Even if you had denied it in the beginning, the truth was that you liked Joshua too. And yet, those reciprocating words somehow fell to the bottom of your feet. Because as much as you wanted it, you still weren’t ready for someone new.

“Joshua…” you squeezed his hand and looked into those endearing eyes of his, “I-I can’t right now. I was in a relationship not too long ago, and now that’s over, but I’m still trying to get over it. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

The boy shook his head. “You don’t have to be sorry.” Joshua answered, running his thumb between your knuckles. “You’re not ready, I get it.”

Breathing out slowly, you smiled at him.

You were yanking open all the drawers in the kitchen, trying to remember where exactly you had stuck that little metal whisk. A bowl of unmixed cupcake batter was waiting to be stirred. Each year that it was open, you signed up for the Complex Gift Exchange, and it just so happened that sixty-five-year-old Miss Dupont really liked vanilla cupcakes. You pulled out the drawer that had been hiding the ruined, stained paper courtesy of your paint by numbers kit.

Rolling your eyes, you slammed it shut, only to realize you’d left the whisk sitting behind the big bag of flour on the counter.

Even though you had turned down Joshua that one night in the snow, he didn’t act spiteful or weird about it. And somehow, you two had grown closer since. Joshua was very easy to talk to. He was a good listener. No matter how many times you ran into each other on the elevator, or at the supermarket, the letter boxes in the lobby or at the car lot, Joshua always made time to listen to whatever mishap had bothered you that day. He still railed on his electric guitar every now and then, though you were beginning to accept it. Baby steps.

Apparently, one of his bandmates was visiting today.

You knew exactly when he’d arrived too, because as soon as you pulled the cupcakes out from the oven to cool, this wave of intense sound; drumming, symbols, guitar, everything, exploded from the floor above, like someone had just thrown a clump of instruments into a hurricane. You stared up at the ceiling winsomely and sighed.

Dressed in a long, thick winter coat, you went outside the complex to visit the garden, now blanketed by snow and sparkling white. You brushed off the bench that had once sat before a fiery pink row of petunias and took a seat. It was much quieter.

“Hey!”

Or so you thought.

Turning around, you gazed up at the apartment complex, spotting two familiar faces hanging out from a fourth story window.

“What?!” You shouted back.

Joshua grinned, then cupped his hands around his mouth as an amplifier. “Were we being too loud?!” He asked.

“Yeah!” His friend yelled. “Were we too loud?!” You had learned the other face was Jihoon, the band drummer, his hair now a rusty shade of crimson. He helped write most of their music.

“No, I’m just sitting out here in the wind and snow and below zero temperatures because I want to!” You replied at the top of your lungs.

Waving at you apologetically, Joshua kept smiling. “Sorry! I’m gonna kick him out soon!” He pointed at Jihoon. “If you want, you can come up here and listen to our last rehearsal!”

Jihoon shoved Joshua’s head out of the way.

“Don’t come up here!” The drummer exclaimed. “It’s not even close to ready yet. He’s just saying that because he’s in—”

A hand clamped swiftly to the boy’s mouth, muffling the remainder of his sentence like it was top secret. Joshua then dragged him away from the open window. Quirking an eyebrow in confusion, you stared at the vacant space until Joshua reappeared a moment later, scratching the back of his head and looking sheepish.

“Sorry about that!” Joshua called. “We’re almost done!”

“I’m in no rush!” You answered, turning back around.

It was true. There weren’t too many pressing things you needed to get done today, besides making the buttercream frosting for Miss Dupont’s cupcakes. The weather wasn’t even as terrible as you made it seem. The wind was light, and the shining sun helped mitigate the usual bitterness of winter. It was quite nice out.

Until about ten minutes later, when Joshua threw a snowball at your back. You spun around quickly, glaring at the boy who was dusting his hands clean of snow, standing near the complex doorway. In that moment, you wanted to be angry at him. But, to be honest, you felt like laughing instead.

“Shouldn’t I be the one throwing snowballs at you?”

Joshua shrugged. “If you could even hit me.”

“Keep your eyes open tonight, Joshua Hong.” You comically threatened him. “Where are you going, anyways?”

“I have to get my person a gift for the exchange thing.” He said, pulling a hat over his hair. “And a new guitar pick.”

“Have fun with that.”

Then, waiting for him to turn around, you hastily packed together a snowball and threw it against the back of his coat.

Miss Dupont somehow figured out who was responsible for her gift. She asked you to give her the cupcakes early, because she swore, she was had been able to smell them baking through the air ducts. Maybe you added too much vanilla. Everyone was supposed to exchange their gifts tomorrow, leaving them by the door or delivering them in person. You didn’t have a clue as to who could be preparing your gift. As long as it wasn’t another candle wreath to collect dust in your closet, you figured you’d be fine with it.

Tonight would be your last opportunity in a long while to watch Joshua’s band perform at the downtown bar. You’d missed their last show, ruminating over the possibility of encountering your ex again; feeling those horrible emotions which were nothing more than poison in disguise. After the New Year, Joshua was planning to visit South Korea with his bandmates for a few weeks. It would be awfully strange to not hear another symphony from his electric guitar, or Jihoon’s drumkit. Jeonghan never really stopped by much.

It was at least an hour or so before Joshua was scheduled to perform. So, you decided to walk down the street to the lane of trees now wrapped and curled with lights. There were small, twinkling white lights. Large, blue lights shaped like hanging icicles. Some blinked in a specific pattern while others morphed colours. At night, it made quite the spectacle. Many people had stopped, much like yourself, to admire the aurora and pull their significant other a little bit closer. You huffed, hating this lonesomeness inside you.

But then you felt a quick pair of fingers dance up your back, and immediately recognized his eyes shining like stars.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you at the lights.” Joshua remarked, zipping up his jacket. “They’ve been up for a while now.”

“It’s always a magnet for couples.” You told him, glancing around at all the handholding and heads leaned adoringly on shoulders. “And I am—well, I was, standing here alone.” Inside your coat pocket, you played with a piece of lint, realizing that perhaps you finally felt ready and significantly healed to consider another relationship.

Looking at you from the corner of his eye, Joshua nodded.

It seemed as though the lights were a place he visited frequently, even amongst all the couples. To you, Joshua seemed like someone who was inspired by love. The not so subtle nature of awkward yet enamored eye contact which made people giggly. Holding onto the very tips of someone’s fingers because you couldn’t let go of their hand even for a second. Pressing an ear to a comfortable chest, listening for a rhythmic, thumping heartbeat. You bet he liked kisses too. Quick kisses on cheeks and gentle kisses on noses and slow, warm kisses to the mouth which could set a fire in your belly.

Out of the blue, you asked him something personal.

“How fast do you usually fall for someone?”

Joshua’s eyes traced the twinkling lights of the tree, all the way to the very top.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I’ve never thought about it.”

Kicking at a lump of hard snow, you sighed. “I think I fall too quickly. Maybe that’s why my last relationship ended the way it did. I just… I don’t know, it could be that I jumped in without knowing what’s beneath me. I don’t want that to happen again.”

The boy glanced at you, snowflakes already beginning to stick in his hair. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with taking things slow. I mean, there’s always going to be some chance in a relationship. You don’t know until you’re in it.”

“I guess so.” You replied. “When I think about it, anything’s better than getting text message-dumped right before a family dinner.” Joshua wasn’t a stranger to the humiliating affairs of your past relationship. One night, after one too many beverages at the bar, you introduced him to the entire story.

“Bad luck.” The boy said.

“Bad taste, more like.” You sighed. “I mean, what was I thinking?”

Joshua shook his head, his hand rubbing your shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up. Seriously, the right person will come along.”

Short laughter burst through your nose, and you looked at him with a knowing, lighthearted grin. “Are you supposed to be that person, Joshua Hong?”

“I’d like to think I am.” He chuckled, his cheeks getting rosier. “But I know you’re not ready. I can be patient, though.”

“So, you’re going to wait for me?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Joshua nodded. “For you, and you only? Of course.”

At that, something deep in your chest began to stir. The feeling robbed you of your words and left you breathless. Afraid of what you might do in the silence between you, quickly, you changed the subject.

“Am I going to hear that special song you wrote? Or have you scrapped it already?”

“You’ll hear it.” Joshua said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out an ivory guitar pick. “Save your applause for the very end, though. I know you might be tempted to start cheering, come up on stage in front of everyone and try to kiss me or something.”

Rolling your eyes, you started to laugh, your breath becoming a thin cloud in the still coldness of winter.

“You wish, Joshua Hong.”

He sighed, a faint smirk on his lips. “You’re right. I do.”

At approximately five o’clock in the morning, you were awakened by a fist banging at your front door. For a moment, you believed it was nothing more than part of a fuzzy dream, and simply tossed over in bed as your arms dug further under the pillow. However, the banging resumed almost instantly, and though it was very muffled, someone was calling your name.

Groaning, you dragged yourself from between the sheets and into the washroom, taking a quick sip of water before splashing some to your face. In a loose pair of shorts and a poorly adjusted tank-top, you stumbled to the front door, throwing it open while yawning.

“J-Joshua?” You mumbled, rubbing circles to your eye.

He stood on the opposite side of the threshold with a glimmery-red gift bag in his hand. For some reason, he was dressed in his jacket, those dark brown locks of his seeming damp or partly soaking as they were brushed back from his forehead. His cheeks and mouth were rosy, eyes glistering, and he was breathing deep.

You thought he looked gorgeous.

“Hey!” He exclaimed a little too loudly, as though he’d forgotten how early it was. “So, uh, weird news. Turns out we’re leaving for South Korea today, and we have to catch this seven-am flight. We’re kinda pressed for time. Jeonghan’s been helping me throw all my shit into these suitcases and—anyways, besides the point.” Taking in another breath, Joshua then held up the pretty red gift bag. “I got you for the Gift Exchange. Well—not really. But I made Mrs. Akané switch with me. This is for you.”

The sudden splurge of information had for feeling even more disorientated than when you first awakened. Joshua had to leave already? Had he been packing ever since you walked home together from his show? He pulled strings to get you for the Gift Exchange?

Reaching into the bag and pushing around some tissue paper, you pulled out a rectangular-shaped kit. It felt fairly heavy.

And then you realized just what he’d gotten you.

“Really?” You smiled, letting the bag drop to the floor because all you cared about was the project in your hands. “Another paint by numbers kit? I didn’t even know they sold these here!”

Joshua nodded, brushing some melted drops of snow off his cheek. “It wouldn’t have arrived on time if I ordered it online. Trust me, it was a process. I had to get Jeonghan’s grandma to make some calls because she’s friends with this craft store lady.” He half-sighed, half-laughed. “I just remembered you were so upset about it when I met you. About a lot of things. And I never stopped feeling sorry. I know I laughed at it and everything, but I thought it was cute.”

You brought the project to sit on the dinner table. Looking outside into the street light, you were shocked at how heavily it was snowing. Huge, fluffy clumps. No wonder Joshua’s hair was so damp and his skin so flushed. You couldn’t believe that just a few hours ago, you were sitting on that barstool near the back of the dim room, listening to him sing and feeling like you were starting to love all over again. Now, Joshua was being whisked away.

“I should really get going.” Joshua said, rubbing his pink nose, “Jeonghan and Jihoon are waiting for me down there.”

“W-Wait!” You exclaimed before the boy could disappear.

Joshua paused, though you could read the look of urgence coloured to his face. It was merely a few seconds you stood in that spot, fiddling anxiously with your fingers and struggling to take another step, yet it felt as though time had stretched itself out like plasticine.

And even though it was slightly terrifying, you had never felt so warm and full of thrill until you had crossed the space to kiss him. Your hands pushed against Joshua’s chest, searching for stability, as you experienced the soft sensation of your lips pressed so desperately to his. Joshua grabbed your cheek in his cold hand to tilt your head a little more left. He stared at you with a hazy, sort of dreamlike look, just for a moment, before kissing you again.

“Am I making you late?” You laughed breathily in between the heated breadth of another kiss.

Joshua shook his head, taking your face in both his hands, moulding his mouth against yours in a smile.

“They can wait just a minute longer,” he answered, “I can’t believe you’re doing this right when I have to leave. You’re really screwing me over, here.”

“Then finish it when you get back.” You smirked.

This time, you were certain of something: you hadn’t jumped too soon. You weren’t going to crash. You were falling in love.

✧✎ a/n: the end the end!! happy holidays !! <3 honestly think it’s kind of the dream to get joshua as ur apartment neighbour xoxo. HOPE U LIKED THIS DANI AND THAT IT GAVE YOU SOME SMILES heheh. i actually haven’t written for joshua in quite a while so i rly appreciated getting to experiment with this. i also love the idea of joshua in a band and being a sappy romantic who always writes abt his future muse ;_; i’m not a huge fluff person BUT I WILL GLADLY GIVE UP EVERYTHING FOR THAT!

#caratwritersclub #joshua scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt fanfic #joshua fanfic #joshua hong #seventeen fanfic #svt fluff #joshua fluff #svt x reader #joshua x reader

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fangirlovestuff · 3 years

Text

All’s Well that Ends Well - Wanda Maximoff x female!reader

a/n - hello lovely people!! i wasn’t gonna write another part for this because i didn’t really want to venture into the future with this series since i like the ending i have in water under the bridge, BUT i got this lovely ask and it was an amazing idea and i’m so happy / shocked that people still remember this so here’s another part! i hope you enjoy<3

Summary: a collection of moments in your journey, from Wanda’s eyes. (not moments that appeared in the previous parts!)

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: i’m pretty sure none. maybe the faintest alluding to smut you have ever seen but i don’t even know if that counts. also a smidge of angst but not really

read the previous parts: Silver Lining || Water Under The Bridge

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Wanda was walking through the long corridors of the compound, a frown on her face, a product of the mission she just came back from. They made it work, but things definitely weren't ideal for a while there. She expected Cap would go over that in the debriefing, the one she was currently making her way to.

Ugh. She liked Steve, appreciated his professional opinion, considered him a friend, most times. But damn it, can't the debriefing wait until she had something to eat, had a shower, slept?

Apparently not, she scowled as she quickened her steps. The last thing she wanted was to be late for this and get lectured by Steve. More than she's already going to be considering how the mission went.

She felt like banging her head against a wall.

Suddenly, she heard a sweet laugh. "No! The Black Widow herself is addicted to Pop Tarts? Well, that certainly makes me feel better about myself," the voice giggled.

Curious, since she didn't recognize who it was, she couldn't resist sticking her head into the room from which she heard the sounds.

"I'm glad, but it's a secret, so shhhh," Natasha smiled that half-smile half-smirk of hers, the fondness evident in her voice as she put her finger to her plush lips to imply silence. Next to her stood the most beautiful woman Wanda has ever laid eyes on. You were standing next to the black widow, who was considered a symbol for beauty and grace, yet Wanda found herself unable to take her eyes of off you.

"Oh, hi!" you smiled once you saw someone had entered the room.

"Hey," Wanda smiled timidly as she opened the door a bit wider.

"Wanda," Natasha smiled at her. To the untrained eye, she seemed completely normal, just as she did a moment ago, but Wanda thought she could see the faintest hint of surprised irritation in her eyes. Natasha introduced the two of you, and Wanda's grin went involuntarily wider when you shook her hand warmly.

"Lovely to meet you," you grinned.

"Likewise. Natasha, I thought you'd like to know we all came back from the mission, Carol included," she raised her eyebrow slightly.

"Carol?" you asked. "Oh! Captain Marvel? Oh my god, Captain Marvel's here?" your eyes went almost comically wide as you connected the dots.

"Yeah," Wanda chuckled. "She is. But she's gonna be a bit occupied for the next hour or so, since Steve insisted we do a debriefing now, which is just where I should be going if I don't wanna be late. I'll see you around," she said in what she hoped was a friendly tone and not too high pitched.

As she walked to the meeting room, even faster than she was walking before, her mind wandered to you. You looked so… energized. God, she wished that was her. She sighed and accepted her fate, entering the room.

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"Hey, Wanda!" Wanda heard you calling after her a few days after you got to the compound. She was just on her way to the training room, but he figured talking to you for a few minutes wouldn't hurt. If she could keep her mouth shut about her little crush, that is.

"What's up?" she turned around, waiting for you to catch up to her.

"Well, I just saw you and I figured I'd say hi," you smiled, "trying to get to know everyone and such. How are you?"

"I'm great! How are you? I mean, how's settling in and all? I know from experience that can be a little daunting," Wanda smiled sympathetically.

"I guess," you giggled, and Wanda really hoped she was only giving you internal heart eyes and not external ones. "but so far so good. I mean, everyone's just so nice. Just the other day Carol offered to help me train. Oh my god, I still can't believe I'm on first name basis with Captain Marvel!" you laughed.

Wanda hoped her disappointment didn't show on her face. "That's great!"

"Yeah, it's really awesome. Anyways, I'm sure you have better things to do, so um, I'll leave you to it," you said, that gorgeous smile never leaving your face.

Which was unfair really, since it definitely made Wanda's brain cells leave her head. Maybe that's why the next thing she said was, "Oh well, not really, I was going to go train for a while, but if you want maybe you could come with me. I'm no Carol but I'm not that bad either," she chuckled.

"Really?" your eyes lit up.

Needless to say, Wanda didn't get a lot of training time done that day. She spent most of it staring at you, so she could "um… correct your, uh, technique," as she so elegantly put it when you asked her if she didn't want to train as well.

It wasn't her fault you looked so pretty.

Per your request, she did show you a couple of things using her powers when you were finished. Your squeal of delight when she lifted up a super heavy weight bench made her cheeks blush slightly.

"That's so cool! So, can you like, read my thoughts or something?" you asked.

"I can," she smirked when you gaped at her. "but don't worry, I don't. I made a habit not to look into other people's minds when I don't absolutely have to."

"That's good to know," you grinned at her, your eyes shining with mirth.

She tried to remind herself she didn't stand a chance, she didn't even know if you liked girls, and even if you did she was no Carol or Natasha, but to no avail. No matter how much she repeated it, even after the three of you got together, she couldn't stop herself from falling a little more in love every time she saw you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky and Wanda were an unlikely duo. Pretty much everyone agreed on that. Except for Steve.

"I think you two have more in common than you'd like to admit," he had smiled. When they asked him what he meant, he simply mimed locking his mouth up and throwing the key. "If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you."

They both knew what he meant, of course. The abnormal strength, fighting for the wrong side. They both made their mistakes, grew to be better. They never talked about it, not really. But when a sound made Bucky's jaw clench a certain way, or a mission was especially draining, or Wanda saw something that brought more memories of home than she'd like, they were there for each other. Actions, not words, but they understood.

Right now, Bucky greeted Wanda as she entered the kitchen on a chilly morning.

"So, you hear about the new trouple?" Bucky asked her, handing her a mug of tea he made because he knew she needed it in the mornings.

"Trouple?" Wanda frowned, before sipping her tea and humming gratefully at him.

"Well, like a couple but… three," Bucky chuckled awkwardly. "Tony said that."

"Oh, um… no, I guess I didn't," she shrugged.

He explained that you were dating Nat and Carol. "It took me a minute to register it too, so I get it," he smiled at her expression.

"No, I mean, I totally get it. That was fast," she raised her eyebrows. When he didn't reply, she continued, "I hope they'll end up well. For the team, you know," she shrugged, gulping before taking another sip of her tea.

"Hey," Bucky laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I know you liked her."

"Which her?" she quipped back. He just gave her a look and she sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Yeah. But I mean, she's with two of the most powerful women in the world. The universe, probably. I can't exactly compete with that," she shrugged helplessly.

"Wanda, you're amazing. I hope you know that," Bucky said, his eyes sincere.

"I guess," she smiled at him.

"Wanna go eat ice cream and watch a sappy movie?"

"You know me so well," she giggled and magicked the fridge open, sending two tubs flying into her hands, as well as two spoons from the drawer.

"Showoff," he scoffed, taking one from her outreached hand.

"You love it," she winked, drawing a chuckle from him.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go watch that movie of yours, young lady."

She laughed and followed him out of the kitchen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the breakup, Wanda was getting closer and closer to you. She didn't want to be a rebound, but also… she just couldn't resist. But, her intentions were purely platonic. For now, at least.

At first, you didn't want to talk to her about it. She understood, didn't push. She knew you needed time.

And indeed, after a couple of days, she heard a knock on her door. She used her magic to open it since she was on her bed, going over some files, which she immediately discarded once she saw you, the state you were in. You have clearly been crying, the tear tracks evident on your face, your quiet sniffle reaching her ears.

"What's wrong?" she asked, gesturing for you to come sit down with her.

You sat down and took a deep breath. She wrapped her arms around you, pulling your head to rest on her shoulder. That's what made you break down again. In the comfort of her arms, you felt safe enough to cry, to fall apart.

She started to pull away when she felt your shivers, but stopped when you clung to her tighter, letting your tears flow freely. She just stroked your hair gently, letting you cry as much as you needed, mumbling reassurances.

When you calmed down enough, you raised your head. "I'm sorry," you mumbled, averting your bloodshot eyes from hers.

"No, don't apologize. I'm here," she nudged your shoulder, prompting you to meet her gaze. "What's wrong?"

"I just… I guess it took a couple of days until it felt real. Until I realized…" you cleared your throat. "I- Wanda, I've been dating them for the absolute most of the time I've been an Avenger. What if… what if I don't have a place in the team without them? What if I'm not strong enough without them?"

"Don't think that, not even for a second," she squeezed your shoulder. "You are one of the most powerful people I know. You belong here, in this team. I've seen you fight, and you're incredible. You're strong, you're smart. All of that has nothing, absolutely nothing to do with them. I know losing them may hurt, but that hurt doesn't change who you are."

"Thank you," you said. It wasn't enough, so you wrapped your arms around her, squeezing her tight, hoping she'd understand.

"It's the truth," she said, stern but not harsh.

That night, after you left, with plans to hang out tomorrow, she took a couple of deep breaths, calmed herself down. If she didn't, she was sure she'd go out there and kick the asses of two of her extremely stupid teammates.

Okay, they weren't actually stupid. But at that moment, Wanda was ready to hurt them, only for making you feel like this. Like you needed them. Seeing you like this made her want to blast them both into oblivion.

But you'd be fine, and you certainly didn't need her to interfere in your business. Besides, she got caught up thinking about the smile you gave her before you left.

She'd move planets to see that smile as often as possible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wanda smiled when she saw you approaching, your swimsuit wet since you had already jumped in the water. Because of course, Tony had a pool in the compound, and of course, he insisted everyone would come together at least one day a year and "bond". Honestly, the man was a bit of a sap. Not that Wanda minded, if it gave her opportunities for sights like these, she mused as she looked at you above her sunglasses.

"Having fun?" she asked once you were close enough to hear her.

You smiled. "Yeah. But you know what would be even more fun? If my lovely girlfriend will join me in a game of chicken against two annoying super soldiers? Maybe, you know, work your magic?" you batted your eyelashes at her innocently.

"Are you asking me to help you cheat so you can make Steve drop Bucky from his shoulders and you would win?" she chuckled.

"No! I mean, maybe. Ugh, his shoulders are so big Wanda, it's unfair! Bucky has so much more space than I do! Clint can't hold me properly," you grumbled half heartedly at your teammate. "But if I hold you up on my shoulders, and you'd, you know," you gestured in a way that was supposed to be similar to how she uses her magic, but only made her giggle at your antics, "I really think we can win."

"Alright, I'm convinced," Wanda announced, pulling off her sundress and revealing her swimsuit so she can get in the pool. "But only because I'd love to see Bucky's face when he falls into the pool and ruins his hair. Steve wouldn't hear the end of it either," she giggled. "Come on, let's go," she said as she started walking towards the pool.

"Babe?" she turned back to find you staring at her.

"Yeah?" you said, shaking your head a little.

"Are you coming?" she smirked.

"Oh, I dunno, I think I was in the sun for a long time, it's getting kinda hot. Maybe we should go inside, cool down a little, and I could kiss you, and-"

You got cut off by Wanda pressing her lips to yours gently. "Now come on," she smirked when you parted, "we have a pair of super soldier asses to kick."

And you did indeed kick their asses. Even without using her magic, Wanda managed to knock Bucky off with you balancing on one leg and using the other one to kick Steve under the water, making him lose enough of his balance.

You both laughed when Bucky and Steve went out of the water, Bucky complaining about his ruined hair and, "God Steve, I pulled you out of the river and you drop me in the pool?"

"I'm pretty sure you were the reason I ended up in that river in the first place," Steve snarked back. When Bucky opened his mouth to protest, Steve continued, "And I’d fall into that river for you again if I had to. Besides, your hair looks just fine," he smiled sweetly at Bucky, who stopped glaring daggers at him and was instead giving him the usual heart eyes.

"Punk," Bucky muttered as Steve went out of the pool. He extended his hand to help Bucky out, who instead pulled on his arm and made him fall into the water at him.

"Jerk," Steve shook the water from his hair before picking Bucky up and getting them both out of the pool as Bucky laughed.

You and Wanda looked at them with a smile.

"I'm glad they're happy," she said, moving her hands in the water in slow motions.

"They deserve it. You do too," you told her sincerely.

"I am happy," she smiled. "You make me happy," she cupped your cheek in her hand, and you kissed her sweetly.

"You make me happy too," you said, "the happiest."

Later, when you were all gathered around an outdoor table, it somehow ended up with you and Wanda sitting across from Natasha and Carol. Now at first, Wanda half considered being rude and asking to switch with someone.

But then she realized, maybe this isn't so bad.

"Hey baby, can you pass me that salad?" she asked you, sneaking a side look at Nat and Carol. They were talking between them, but the way they tensed up let her know they were paying attention. Good.

"Sure thing," you reached or the salad she gestured at, passing it.

"Thank you," she grinned, planting a firm but sweet kiss on your lips.

You hummed in delight. "Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?"

"For passing me the salad," she shrugged with a smile.

You let it go, not thinking anything of it, but Wanda snuck another look across the table, and sure enough, Carol's jaw was tightly clenched, while Natasha was looking down at her plate, moving her food around as if she lost her appetite.

It wasn't as good as kicking their asses, but it would do. She barely managed to contain the smug grin that threatened to spread across her face. Having you to herself was more than enough, it was everything she could've ever wanted.

But, having your ex-girlfriends realize what they lost? Well, it certainly didn't hurt.

She didn't do it a lot, didn’t brag or show you off around them most times. But every now and then, she couldn't help herself, because you deserved it. She knew you'd probably never really confront them about how they made you feel, so when she could, she subtly did it for you.

You didn’t deserve what they put you through. No, you deserved the world, you deserved to smile and laugh and be happy and loved. Wanda hoped she could be that, give you that, for the rest of your lives.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tell me your thoughts!! i couldn’t help but make stevebucky date because i love them hehe. the little look into Wanda’s friendship with Bucky was really fun too, i felt like i sorta alluded to it in the previous ones but yeah, anyways i love them and i hope you liked it<3

Taglist: @horny-nd-bored @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds @wintersoldierslut @iceebabies @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree @kaitcordx25 @bequeening @steve-barry-damon-logan @itscrazycherryblossomcollection @hollandxmarvel @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000 @anobscurename @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @peggycarter-steverogers @evansphnx12 @starlightcrystalline @procrastinatingsapphictrash

if you wanna join / be removed from a taglist, comment/message me! much love <3

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff fluff #carolnat x reader #steve rogers x bucky barnes

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soliverse · 3 years

Text

don’t call me - k.dy

(sequel to call me a fool. you can read this by itself, but some references would make more sense if you read the first part.)

reader x bestfriend!doyoung

genre: so much angst, slight fluff

warnings: none

word count: 3.85k

synopsis: Doyoung missed an important milestone in your life. Now, it’s your turn to miss his calls.

prompt:

Ghost Of You by 5 Seconds of Summer, part of the Heartbreak Hotel collab by @nct-writers

dedication to:

@hunjins for leaving witty comments during beta reading

@johnyusangel for being my guardian angel during beta and when I was dying over a migraine + Qian Kun

@hxneyy-latte for nursing me back to health lol

taglist: @kunrengui (sorry this took a while 😔), @leolo404 @byeolhyesisi @thesongofdragons

networks: @nctcreations @kdiarynet @kpopscape @kwritersworld @culture-cafe @neowritingsnet @neoswitchnet @czennienet @nct-writers

Every day, your routine starts with staring at your phone for a few hours before getting out of bed. You'd check in all of your messaging apps to see if any of them came from Doyoung. Sadly, there's none of it this morning.

You would drag your mopey ass out of bed and start the day with dread, questioning why he hasn’t replied to your last text. Then, as you brush your teeth, you would check once again to see if you missed anything while you are preoccupied with oral hygiene.

The inbox notifications would still say zero. And then you'd wait… and wait… and wait some more hours, even days before he replies back.

Every time Doyoung refuses to reply to your messages soon, you get this sudden urge to bang your head into a wall, cursing yourself for texting him in the first place. You will then start to question your life choices, why you even texted him in the first place when you knew this is bound to happen. And that you probably sounded too clingy, too cheesy for his liking. Your thoughts filled as to why he refused to reply as soon as he could.

You sighed and placed your phone back into your pocket and proceeded to go on with your day. The academy is about to open and you have practice for your upcoming recital the following day.

You kept your phone around your vicinity even as you practiced. It's a good thing that your vocal mentor isn't here to point out your mistakes, but you're trying to hit every note as clean as you can. A feat that is impossible to do when you're completely distracted by something.

Doyoung: Hey.

That one word is enough to wash all of the worries that you had earlier. You once again attempted to bang your head into the wall, now cursing yourself for changing your emotions so quickly.

You kept your phone back at your table, practicing for a few more minutes before answering the text. This time, you sang with a smile on your lips, the burden of your worries suddenly lifted with a single word.

But that's just how it always is with you and your best friend.

Now, if you can only tell him how you feel.

///

You bowed at everyone for doing a great job at practice. You happily fished out your phone from your pocket to reply to Doyoung's earlier text.

You: Are you free this Saturday?

You placed your phone down for a moment to fix your stuff, but a ding! interrupted you midway and you just couldn’t help but look at his reply.

Doyoung: Not at all. Need help with something?

Your smile grew wider and you texted the details of your recital for Saturday. You've worked on the piece so hard that you wanted to share your success with him, just like he would share his with you.

The rest of the day went smoothly. It was full of wishful thinking and daydreams. And if it goes well, it might be the day that you tell him about how you really feel about him.

///

It was the day of the recital and your hands were shaking out of nervousness. Your grip on the mic was getting tighter, if not sweatier, as you heard the crowds forming outside to see you and your classmates perform.

The soundcheck commenced and they started calling all the participants by their name as they came on stage. You heard nothing besides your own heartbeat and your loud thoughts whenever you overthink. But you reassured yourself that you will do a good job.

You had to. Someone was watching and you wanted to make him proud.

Fiddling on your seat, you waited for a few numbers before it was your turn. You nervously walked out the stage, and you were blinded by the lights coming from the back of the theater. It was probably for the good.

You couldn’t see anyone’s faces.

You couldn’t see his face.

Because if you could, you would’ve choked on your words and hit the notes wrong once again. Thankfully, the performance went better than you expected.

As soon as everyone came together for the curtain call, your eyes wandered to see Doyoung among the crowds. You scanned left and right, but there were no signs of him everywhere in the theater.

You consoled yourself with the fact that he probably went to the bathroom, or he was already backstage waiting for you. He couldn’t possibly miss this day, right?

The first thing that you did after coming down the stage was to have a closer look at the seats, just to make sure that he really was there in the crowd. Everyone else had their families with them, their friends, their lovers.

But there were no signs of Doyoung in the crowd.

You tried hard to smile as everyone who passed by you congratulated you for doing a great job. But once again, you were distracted. Your mind was occupied with thoughts that you never expected to have that day.

Did he really forget about you?

Giving up completely, you made your way back backstage and hid your impending tears to everyone. On your way, you saw Johnny, waving a small bouquet of flowers to get your attention. This sparked a tiny bit of hope in you. If Johnny was around, then Doyoung must have been here somewhere, too.

You ran towards Johnny and gave him the tightest bear hug. You were worried that no one really watched you perform today. Your family lives abroad and they couldn’t make it to watch you, but you promised them that you will send them a video of you singing. You were really counting on Doyoung not only to watch you perform, but to film your performance as well.

He must have been here somewhere.

“Thank God you came. I thought nobody saw me perform earlier,” you were once again on the verge of crying, but you didn’t have the heart to ask Johnny if Doyoung was indeed with him.

“Doyoung couldn’t make it today. He had to go out with the whole crew of his drama to celebrate their last day together. I came as soon as I heard about your performance.”

You fell quiet, breathing deep to hide your tears and your disappointment. But Johnny knew how you felt, so he pulled you tighter against him, completely encasing you completely on his embrace. “Don’t feel sad. You did so well today.”

///

Ever since then, you stopped taking calls from Doyoung. He would persistently call and text you every night to say sorry. Any other day, you would’ve been glad to see that finally, he’s the one that’s trying so hard to reach you. Sadly, you’re in no mood to talk to him.

You thought it would’ve been cruel if you blocked his number from your phone, so you instead tried to text him excuses why you couldn’t talk.

You were tired. You went out with a friend. You just wanted to take some rest.

After hitting send, you tossed your phone in your bed, still feeling upset about him missing such an important day to you. You felt set aside like you’re the last person on his priority list.

That day made you realize that you’re spending way too much energy on someone that doesn’t return the favor. It was an unhealthy behavior that you need to get out of your system as soon as possible, even if that means cutting Doyoung from your life temporarily.

///

Doyoung was surprised to see you at the front door of the 127 dorm one day. You tried smiling at him as he opened the door to let you in, pretending that you were not upset with him in the previous days.

“Surprised you’re not busy today,” you remarked as you sat down, clearly aiming at Doyoung who was now feeling lost at your coldness towards him.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“Not at all,” you tried your best to avoid his gaze because one look at your face would definitely give everything away. You didn’t want to lie to him, but it was better than saying that you were mad because you had feelings for him.

“Anyways, where’s Johnny? He invited me to watch a movie this afternoon.”

“Didn’t you tell me that you had practice today? That’s why you couldn’t meet me?”

You sneered internally.

“Yeah. Sometimes people say one thing and then they actually mean another thing. You of all people should know.”

You saw Johnny coming out of his room, fully dressed and ready for your movie night together. You waved one last goodbye at Doyoung, who just realized that you were roasting him the whole time.

///

The passive-aggressiveness went on for a few more occasions. You refused his attempts to talk to you, knowing full well that your cold facade would wear off instantly once you let him. You wanted to talk to him so bad, but your pride was preventing you from making any rash decisions. You couldn’t just go back to living your life as Doyoung’s doormat. But, as per Johnny’s advice, you got to explain to him why you were feeling that way. He at least deserved that much.

That explanation came sooner than you had expected.

You were spending a lot of time with Johnny lately, but only because he treats you like a little sister. He must’ve missed his own sister back at home, so he was making sure to take care of you as much as he could.

But Doyoung didn’t have to know that.

You had noticed the tension between the two of them whenever you would visit their dormitory. Johnny was just a bit irked at Doyoung because you were hurting, but he understood it from his perspective. He never knew how you felt in the first place, he wouldn’t have known how much he hurt you in the process.

What goes on in Doyoung’s brain though, you have no idea. He usually just stays away from the both of you whenever you’ve come to visit them, maybe throw in a couple of pleasantries before asking you to hang out with him once again. You kept on telling him that you will once you’re not busy with the academy, and then proceeds to forget about it on that same day.

One day, he’s finally had enough and decided to block the door when you were about to leave the dorm room.

"There's nothing to talk about Doyoung."

You tried to step out once again, but he didn't even budge from his place.

"Can you just tell me what I did? I already said sorry about not attending your recital. What else do you want me to do?"

You lowered your head and tried to leave again, determined not to answer his questions. But he's just as stubborn as you are, this time pushing you slightly, just enough to make you step back.

Your fists formed into a ball and your lips pursed in annoyance. Why does he care about you so much now that you're staying away from him?

"Let me leave, Doyoung. Johnny is waiting for me," you said as calmly as you could.

"Is that it? You're replacing me with Johnny? Just because of that one mistake? What kind of friendship is that?" Doyoung's voice went up a few notches, now looking as visibly upset as you are.

"I can't be your friend anymore, Doyoung," silence filled the room as soon as you said that statement. You both stare at each other awkwardly, both of you are still in a state of shock.

"I don't think this is the perfect time to tell you this, but you have to know eventually," grasping the straps of your handbag, you braced yourself for what you were about to say.

"I have feelings for you Doyoung. That's why I was so hurt that you didn't attend the recital," you paused for a bit, biting your lower lip to hold yourself back from tearing up.

"It made me realize that my life, everything about me, revolves around you. I would literally drop everything when you say you need me. And yet, I'm so far away from your priority list that you can't even sit down for a few minutes to watch me perform," you felt a bit of moisture from your cheeks. Tears were already falling from your face without you even realizing it.

You wiped your tears away with your sleeves and you held yourself back from sobbing to proceed to talk.

"But it's not your fault. I was the one at fault for lending you my time, and I was the one at fault for setting high expectations for someone who just treats me as a friend," you smiled weakly as you walked towards him one last time.

"So for now, I can't be your friend anymore. Not until I sort my feelings out and make things more awkward for us. Give me time for myself, Doyoung. I'll try to be a better friend soon."

You smiled as you lowered your head once again, your shoulders brushing over when you left the room. You didn't try to look back and walked as fast as possible, holding yourself together just before you reached the exit.

You ran out of their apartment building and as soon as you found a place where you can hide, you finally let yourself go. You sat there balling your eyes out and looked around for signs of your best friend. When you realized that he didn't even make an effort to comfort or follow you, your sobs got even louder as you sat down on the pavement to hug your knees.

"Go on... Let it out."

Someone sat down with you and started patting your back to comfort you. You raised your head and cleared the hair strands that stuck to your face to see who it is. It was Johnny.

"I saw everything that happened. I'm happy that you finally told him."

He rubbed your shoulders to calm you down once again, offering you his handkerchief so you could wipe your tears out. Once you finally managed to stop crying, he stood up from his seat and placed his hands on the pockets of his hoodie.

"If you need to cry all day, I'll be here."

///

Doyoung proved that your presence left a big mark that he never realized before. He thought he was just confused at first, or that he was just getting used to not being able to contact you whenever he could.

Just that evening, he was having a hard time memorizing the new choreography for their comeback. He kept on messing up one of the killing parts and everyone was frustrated that they couldn't move on to the other parts of the choreography. He felt sorry for everyone, so he left practice early to work on it himself without burdening the other members. His first instinct was the grab his phone and listen to your soothing voice, telling him to cheer up and that he will do better tomorrow.

But as soon as he was about to hit the dial button, it pained him to press the back button instead, stuffing the phone into his sweatpants and he wiped the sweat off of him.

He felt very heaviness, even more, when he was changing, basically ripping the door of his locker as he took its contents to rid himself of the uncomfortable feeling of sweat. He was both mad and upset at the same time, almost ripping a part of his shirt when he was about to put it on.

He hasn't felt like this in a very long time and he needed a way to get things off of his chest. But without you to do it, it was practically impossible.

He grabbed his matching hat and jacket, stuffing his dirty clothes on his backpack and he made his way out of the building.

He made sure that no one saw him in that state, especially Haechan, who gave him so much shit when everybody found out about your confession.

"Everyone knew, you dumbass."

He just wished somebody would've told him sooner, but he knew it wasn't their place to tell him about it. He felt stupid for not realizing it sooner.

His heavy footsteps dragged him to the ramen shop that you used to go to together. He stopped coming here when he lost contact with you, and instead of making him feel better, it made him even more upset upon the reminder of how he fucked up. But he needed a way to make himself feel better. Ramen worked back then. Maybe it would work right now.

He made the choice to not sit down at your usual spot, the one closest to the kitchen so you would get your meals as soon as you could. He instead opted for one of the corners. It felt awkward, but he was there to eat, not enjoy the ambiance. He ordered a bowl to himself, something that he wasn't used to seeing on the table. The bowl of ramen looked so empty on the table by itself, and so he ordered a lot of side dishes with a few bottles of soju to comfort himself.

To his surprise, he was served by the same auntie that used to tease you and him before when the two of you used to go to this place. He hoped that she wouldn't recognize and ask for your whereabouts, but he was very unlucky that day.

"Oh. It's been a while since I saw you! How are you?"

Doyoung just bowed to the auntie and told him that he was fine and that he missed eating there for the longest time.

"I'm glad that I finally get to see you! You missed your friend though, she just left earlier."

He was put to a halt. Something about you being mentioned sparked something in him. Although, he wasn't able to pinpoint what that feeling was at that time.

"I think she was showing the place to another friend of yours. The big guy ate a lot, so we're worried for a bit that we’re about to close early for today."

Doyoung felt his heart sink, but he still bowed and thanked the auntie for the meal.

He stared at the contents of his table for a while, but you would always remind him that the soup tasted better when it's still hot. For some reason though, the bowl of ramen wasn't as tasty as it used to be. He used to finish bowls of that same ramen before, but he couldn't even manage to finish one. He knew better than to waste food though, so he forced himself to eat the rest of it and jumped out of there as soon as he could.

The ramen certainly didn't make him feel better.

///

It's been weeks and the first thing that Doyoung did after waking up was to open his phone for messages. There were a few of them, most of it coming from the other members, but he wasn't interested in reading in any of them.

Getting out of bed seemed harder than usual. He felt a few pounds heavier, which meant he either gained weight or he just lost the will to get up from his bed.

He tried not to stare at his phone as he brushed his teeth, so he kept them hidden in his pocket and used all of his wills to not check on it every hour.

He noticed that there was a bit of commotion coming from outside. He paid no attention and went back to his usual morning routine, getting ready for a separate schedule that he had that morning. He went to his room to get dressed and pack the things that he may need that day. Once everything was done, he went to the kitchen to tell everyone that he was going, but he was met with something else instead.

The rest of the boys were gathered up around the table, enjoying breakfast that he assumed that you made. You just stood there happily as you served everyone pieces of the omelet that you made. You turned around in his direction and he was met with that smile that he missed so much.

"Doie, would you like some?"

The nickname made him flinch. It was something that you never used on him before, but it was enough to make him look away and step out of the room immediately.

"I'm good. I just came to say goodbye to everyone."

"Oh good!" you said as you gathered your things and stuffed them neatly in your tote bag. "I just came here to drop some food because this guy said that he wasn’t feeling well. Let's go together," you said as you tiptoed your way out of the tight kitchen, messing Johnny's hair before you finally stepped out of the room.

"Let's go?" you asked giddily as you grabbed Doyoung's arm and waved to everybody goodbye. He finally realized what you must've felt when it was the other way around.

The walk towards the bus stop was a quiet one. None of you dared to talk. But he noticed that the spring of your step is back, if not better than before. Meanwhile, he was just walking there awkwardly, not knowing what to say to you because of how he left things the last time that you talked. He wanted to talk to you for the longest time, but he respected your wishes to be alone. Now he was regretting making that decision.

The both of you stood there at the nearest bus stop, the atmosphere is even quieter since it was just the two of you standing there.

"I missed you Doie," you spoke, breaking the silence between you too.

"I was hoping that we can talk right after this. You know, just to clear the air."

He remained quiet in his place, not really knowing how to respond to her.

"Meet me at the ramen place later?"

"Sure," Doyoung almost hit himself for answering so soon. To him, he sounded very eager to eat with you once again.

The bus finally arrived and you stepped inside, making your way into the seat. His stare lingered at you for a while, to see if you would look around like how you always did when he sent you home. You took those same steps, hesitating at the eighth one to see if he still stuck around to look at you.

You hesitantly sat back down in your seat, unsure as to whether he finally looked back at you when you were about to leave.

You never saw him though, because he asked you to sit down and within a split second, he was gone from your view.

Guess you're just gonna have to find out tonight.

xxx

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allen-desu · 3 years

Text

Intrigue: A Canute and Thorfinn Character Study

Canute had learned to do one thing above all else- discern men. It was simple. Either he should be wary of a man or not, and of those he was wary of, who should he make face with.

But then there was Thorfinn..

Very mild Thornute | Vulgar Language | Canon Compliant (Volume 3 specifically) | Spoiler Free

Brushing off my Tumblr to post this somewhere, best read on mobile.

Canute often found himself studying Thorfinn. In fact he was now, stealing glances of him while riding in a wagon through Wales. His nerves were getting the best of him and not wanting to think of signing a treaty without his father present, Canute instead tried to place Thorfinn to keep his mind occupied. The Prince found him to be a most intriguing character, and one that often eluded any solid characterization. It was egregiously annoying; for you see, growing up in the bloodbath of regal politics, Canute had learned to do one thing above all else- discern men. It was simple. Either he should be wary of a man or not, and of those he was wary of, who should he make face with. Granted, Canute had Ragnar, and therefore he never had to put this skill to a real test for his vassal always fought on his behalf, keeping the young Prince’s best interests in mind. Nevertheless, his cautious observation skills were more often than not proven correct as the time revealed untrustworthy men to Canute.

But then there was Thorfinn. There are always exceptions to any and every rule, but even that logic still couldn’t stick Thorfinn under a neat label inside the Prince’s mind. The boy was not like the men he traveled with. Yes, he did the dirty killing, but he did it in a way that oozed indifference. Thorfinn killed swiftly and acted as if each man was a simple stepping stone to the fight being over, for the killing to be over. While the others he traveled with had a sick enjoyment for the act. Thorfinn did not socialize with the Askeladd’s band. He did not share in their spoils, including that of food and drink. Instead the blond hunted his own food, collected his own water. Only rarely did he ever get what he needed from what was plundered. Those rare instances were either when it was offered to him while marching, or on late and loud evenings, while the rest of Askeladd’s band made themselves merry, Thorfinn would slip some goods from tables abandoned for the night.

So, no, Canute would not label him as part of the band. This conclusion was frustrating, for if Thorfinn was not one of Askeladd’s men, why was he one of Askeladd’s most trusted pawns? Perhaps part of the answer was in the word “pawn” itself, but Askeladd was a cautious man as well. So much so that Canute knew it would bode well for him to try and keep tabs on what the man was thinking. So what was his reasoning to keep Thorfinn- who literally wanted him dead for some unknown reason to the Prince- under his thumb. The young blond was skilled and dangerous to have around. How did Askeladd tame-

Ah.. perhaps that was it.

Thorfinn was like something wild, pacing in its cage and waiting for its chance to do something about its keeper and free itself from its confines. Tamed to compliance, but would still happily bite the hand. Something akin to a wolf perhaps.

Canute looked up from his thoughts over to Thorfinn who was leaning on the opposite side of the wagon, his gaze far off and his eyes hard. Feeling that the Prince was looking at him Thorfinn shot daggers at Canute . Seeing the dirty teen do this with the image of a wolf in his mind nearly tempted Canute to chuckle and he swiftly hid his face from the other in case the temptation won him over. He could hear Thorfinn scoff and that was the end of the whole exchange. A lone wolf in an unfamiliar pack. The young Prince was satisfied with the description for the young warrior.

Canute was no longer satisfied. Thorfinn was his guard and, surprisingly, was taking the job seriously. He seemed not to care, was quick with sharp words at either Canute, Ragnar or Father Willibald. But on more than one occasion, the Prince would catch a small glimpse of Thorfinn nearby, seemingly disinterested, but close enough to come to aid or rescue. Any time he was not lurking and couldn’t be seen or found, a few hours or less after the fact, the shorter blond could be seen emerging from the tree line, a rabbit or more hanging over his shoulder.

In fact, this had just happened and Ragnar had convinced Thorfinn to add the rabbit to the meal he and the Prince were making.

“Highness!” Ragnar had announced upon entry. “We have beans, cabbage and a hare!” As he listed the items, Thorfinn had walked in behind him and closed the door to the cold. Canute was surprised to see him, tensed and annoyed, looking very out of place in the little home they had… procured.

“ A hare?” The Prince asked, ignoring how his own bout of tension was threatening to rise in his shoulders.

“Thorfinn caught it.” Obviously. “We’ll put it in the soup.”

“Well done.” As if Thorfinn needed or wanted praise for a deed he probably found to be child’s play. “Bleed it and skin it so we can wash the meat.” Truth be told, Canute wasn’t expecting for Thorfinn to just comply without some remark, and he surely wasn’t expecting Ragnar to take the rabbit from Thorfinn to do the task instead. It was jarring seeing his caretaker grab the rabbit from him, as if he had just seen Ragnar take a kill from a wild animal. At least that’s what flashed through his mind when the moment started. However, as it happened in real time, Thorfinn let his catch be taken and he was left to simply stand, awkward and unsure.

Canute, stirring the broth in progress mindlessly as he watched on, couldn’t help but consider Thorfinn for a long moment. This boy in front of him was no lone and wild wolf. The moment his gaze was felt, however, the creature came back and Thorfinn found a spot off to the side against the wall that he could sit at and brood.

Once the soup was done and the table was set, Canute and Ragnar somehow coaxed Thorfinn to join them at the table. The tension in the boy’s shoulders was palpable and Canute couldn’t help but take notice of it, trying to further categorize it. When Thorfinn actually acknowledged the meal in front of him, however, his demeanor changed. It was quick, merely a fraction of a second, but the Prince saw it- tried to burn the image into his brain to try and decipher later.

Ragnar’s compliments of the meal they prepared took Canute’s attention and he took this as an opportunity. Agreeing with Ragnar, “The rabbit made it work.” He looked to Thorfinn, “I’m tired of salted meat. You have my thanks.” There was no answer from the shorter blond, he just continued to look at their spread on the table and look lost. Almost as if he didn’t think it was real. The thought threatened to furrow the Prince’s brow. It made him realize yet again, Thorfinn was not amicable with the men he traveled with. When was the last time anyone showed this young man any kindness? When was the last time Thorfinn had the simple pleasure to share a meal with someone at all?

“What’s wrong?” Canute spoke, aiming to pull Thorfinn out of his stupor. “Eat up, you caught the rabbit.”

It seemed to do the trick, for Thorfinn picked up his bowl and spoon and tentatively took a bite. The look on his face, before it was hidden behind matted bangs, was one Canute would very much like to see again. Anger and/or indifference seemed to have a constant monopoly on Thorfinn’s features, but that one, quick moment of.. surprise? Or maybe he was just pleased with the taste of his meal. Either way, the emotion fit his face better, let the ridges between his brows smooth out for a second. Genuine, that was the word. Thorfinn seemed more genuine in that one instant than he did the entirety of the time that Canute had known him thus far.

“Pretty good isn’t it?” Ragnar mused, though the Prince couldn’t quite tell if he had also caught the glimpse of surprise from Thorfinn, or if he was just rearing up to dote and brag on Canute’s cooking talents. “Catch us a deer next, and we’ll really have a meal!”

“...” Not a real reply, but the young guard had acknowledged Ragnar. Thorfinn continued to eat, and almost absentmindedly, “I thought you noble types had everything cooked for you.” It wasn’t a question, a simple statement of thought, but Canute thought he would answer it anyways.

“I enjoy doing it.” The Prince began, “I don’t normally get the chance. Only Ragnar knows that I can cook.” A pause and Canute laid his spoon down in his bowl for a moment. “Do not tell anyone of this.” Thorfinns reply was instant and disinterested.

“Why not?” Followed by, “Who cares?”

Not sure what persuaded him to do so, but Canute began to tell Thorfinn of his father’s, the King, displeasure in the fact that he liked to cook- that it was a frivolous and useless skill to have. Though the shorter blond’s face was as neutral as ever, he did slow in his eating to listen, that alone made Canute feel as he wasn’t wasting his breath, that it was worth having someone other than Ragnar know of how intensely inadequate his father found him to be. Ragnar seemed to be confused at his tellings though. He was obviously not expecting his Highness to share. Giving his Highness an odd look he decided to try and lighten the Prince’s mood, though Canute wasn’t in need of it.

The two of them held their own conversation from there on out, speaking about different dishes Canute could prepare, or what Ragnar could teach him about new dishes he had yet to prepare. The mood in their little borrowed house was light. It was familial in its own way. The young Prince would glance over to Thorfinn every once in a while and was pleased to see that the ever present knot of tension in his shoulders was slowly becoming unraveled. The guard ate and listened.

Something in Thorfinn snapped and Canute shuddered because of it.

What happened in the next instant was too fast for Canute to follow in real time. Thorfinn had gotten up, more like sprung up, and was immediately at the door one of his signature knives pointed at someone’s throat. Had the man had worse reflexes, he would have impaled himself on Thorfinn’s steel. Ragnar was next in the initiative, questioning both Thorfinn and the man on what was going on.

“Agh- I’m on your side Thorfinn!” So it was one of Askeladd’s men. “I’m just bringing a message…” Despite this, it still took a long moment for Thorfinn to remove his knife from the man’s throat. Ragnar took the lead from there and was questioning the newcomer on Canute’s behalf, but Canute himself was still trained on his short bodyguard.

Thorfinn was still tense, still alert and ready to strike, but his initial instinct was slowly recoiling back into its original state. It was interesting to watch the slow movement of his shoulders and back muscles through threadbare clothing. However, Canute’s gaze was felt and Thorfinn shot him a look that could kill. Oddly enough the look from the dirtied blond softened a little, as if he was reminded that Canute was still there and his presence wasn’t something he should be afraid of. The thought struck the Prince as oddly satisfying. He wasn’t able to really dive further into that train of thought, however, for the man brought news of the English advancing on the hideout they had procured. Canute’s shock couldn’t beat out Ragnar’s rage. Heated words about Askeladd and his poor decisions were spoken, and then, just as suddenly as they had come, the man was gone, Ragnar following after him.

The little house was now too still and too quiet until it was broken by Thorfinn huffing through his nose.

“Can’t even manage to close the damn door on their way out.” He muttered, moving to do just that so the winter’s day wouldn’t try and suck any more of the hard earned heat out of the house. With the door closed Thorfinn relocated to his new post beside the door, leaning against the wall. The Prince watched him do this and suddenly Thorfinn was glaring at him again. “Have I fucking done something?” The shorter teen hissed.

“What?” Such an elegant reply, good job Canute. Not that Thorfinn gave two shits about that kind of thing.

“You’ve been staring. Like a lot.” Thorfinn turned to fully face Canute, leaning only one shoulder on the wall. “Still mad, Princess?” A smirk. Of course that’s what he would call him, but Canute realized he was talking about their squabble in the wagons the other day. “I don’t give a rat’s ass who your father is or who’s womb you crawled out of.”

“Still have the vulgar audacity to speak to me like that, but no.” Thorfinn raised a brow at him. “It was more of a shock than anything else. I don’t particularly mind that you speak so blatantly.” No matter how sharp the words, unfortunately. It seemed that the shorter blond did not have a reply for that and instead just refocused his attention to the fire instead. Canute also took this moment to recollect his thoughts. He knew Ragnar was angry, he warned Askeladd about the very problem at hand. Askeladd had paid him no mind at all. Still, the Prince was worried. Ragnar had left in the heat of the moment to a battlefield only to argue with the man leading the defensive charge. Not to mention, his soup would be cold by the time he came back. What a waste.

Perhaps the moments before Ragnar’s return wouldn’t entirely be a waste, though. Not if Canute played his cards right. He wanted to understand Thorfinn. Never before had he met someone that has proven themselves to be so complicated, especially since at first Canute thought him to be a simple brute among other simple brutes. Why was Thorfinn here, why was he in, but yet not considered, part of Askeladd’s band? What happened to him? The short blond hates the man, yet follows him around the country and overseas. He even follows some insane orders with the promise of some kind of reward.

Thorfinn let out an aggravated noise and was suddenly leaning over Canute, hands flat on the table with a bang.

“You’re doing it again. Quit.” The shorter teen growled. Canute blinked owlishly at him. What? Oh, had he been staring again? Nevertheless he continued to study Thorfinn, which was quickly making his guard’s blood boil. Then Canute stood forcing the other teen to stand back a bit and look up at him. He knew that Thorfinn was shorter than him, but it was still amusing to actually see it. Thorfinn carried himself to be larger, more intimidating. Said young guard was now glaring up at Canute through his dirtied bangs. “What?” He hissed.

“You confuse me, Thorfinn.” The Prince replied. Thorfinn also had a fair amount of confusion mixed in with his usual anger, and that fact pleased Canute a bit- at least the feeling was mutual. “I’ve just been trying to figure you out.”

“Well stop.”

“No, I shan’t” Canute replied swiftly. Thorfinn was prone to argue, but nothing came out. The Prince could take a guess as to what he was thinking. That the person in front of him was the same as the shy and bumbling Prince that was showcased and dragged around all of England these past few weeks? Yes and no. There was nothing political in this task, Canute had nothing to fear if he took a misstep. No repercussions. This was a purely selfish motive in which he had no problems pursuing as long as it was kept private. “Also it’s not that I can not, it’s that I will not”

“You…” Thorfinn struggled. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“To you, perhaps not.” This reply really made Thorfinn angry, Canute could see it in the way his whole body tensed, gearing up to fight. Part of him wanted to see if his guard would actually hit him. However, before either of them could think through what they wanted to do next, for some odd reason, Canute had moved and held Thorfinn’s face in his hands. Both teens were now wide eyed and tense. Why did he do that? When did he do that? Just now? A moment ago?

Canute was the first to settle down from the shock of his own actions, and instead of pulling away like he thought he would, the Prince settled into the position. He let his hands feel the warmth of Thorfinn’s jaw and slid down to where his thumbs were still on the other blond’s face, but the rest of his fingers curled delicately around his neck. He knew his hands must have been cold, he was prone to be, but the proof lies in the fact that Thorfinn’s skin puckered into bumps right before he shuddered just slightly.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Thorfinn asked, his voice surprisingly tame. He was definitely still angry and on edge, but thus far it seemed as if Canute was not in danger of being bitten by the wolf that accompanied Thorfinn’s anger.

“Indulging, just let me for a moment.” Canute replied softly, as if trying not to spook Thorfinn away.

“...the hell does that even mean?” The guard muttered in reply. Canute laughed lightly, amused.

“Don’t think on it too hard,Thorfinn.” No reply to that, but the dirtied teen in his hands didn’t pull away either. Good, that was good.

Now that Canute had somehow managed to get them into this situation, he took as much time as he damn well pleased to study the other boy. Not that he was naive enough to believe that staring at Thorfinn would somehow unlock his secrets, but he did think it would help. Thorfinn was a recluse. No one ever got too close to him and he would never let them, so the fact that Canute was quite literally in his personal space seemed like a major victory.

Thorfinn had hard light brown eyes, but if the fire flickered right they were more like unearthed amber or sweet honey. They were nothing like the Prince’s own eyes, a sky blue. The sky may be vast, but Thorfinn’s eyes were deep. What was that saying? The eyes were a window into the soul? Canute could readily believe that looking into Thorfinn’s.

Next Canute took note that, under all the dirt, Thorfinn was tired. He had coloration and lines on his skin that a boy of their age shouldn’t have. Did he ever sleep through the night? His guard was always up late and always up early, always seen at odd hours thinking about something far away... or a time long gone, perhaps? Beyond what dirt and sleepless bruising lay on his skin, was what lacked beneath it. Thorfinn was a genuine threat on the battlefield, how could someone so strong have such gaunt in his cheeks? He knew Thorfinn fended for himself, but from what he has seen, he does a rather good job at it. Granted, he doesn’t eat square meals. Canute thinks that just earlier was the first time he’s seen Thorfinn eat anything green, or not meat related. Still, a soldier's diet of salted meat and wine wouldn’t result in malnutrition. Was malnutrition why he was short? Just… Just how long had Thorfinn been taking care of himself? The men didn’t bat an eye at Thorfinn’s presence. In fact, while marching and the men told old stories, Thorfinn was in a good many of them. Years? Had it been years since Thorfinn had a meal like the one he had today?

“I don’t need your fucking pity.” Thorfinn’s voice startled the Prince. Was he making a face of some kind?

“I didn’t mean..”

“Save your breath, I don’t care.”

Canute thought it was best to not reply, so instead he wiped some dirt off of Thorfinn’s face with one of his thumbs. With a fresh bath, a sturdy brush, and some new clothes, Thorfinn could be considered handsome.

He wondered what Thorfinn was thinking. Was he actually trying to decipher Canute in turn or was he just waiting for the Prince to be done? Canute also wondered, truly, when was the last time Thorfinn was shown kindness? Affection? Perhaps he wasn’t a lone wolf at all, but something lost instead. When one finds themselves abandoned in one way or another, in an unfamiliar place, one must adapt. Did Thorfinn just adapt to killing? Fights because he has to? It was frustrating going through all these thoughts himself, but Canute knew for a fact that Thorfinn would not simply answer any questions that he asked.

Perhaps… Perhaps Canute could be the one to show him kindness? Maybe he could properly tame the wolf that was Thorfinn’s anger, and find the lost person it was protecting. Thorfinn was so hard to get close to though, even today he had been reluctant to simply share his rabbit and then a meal. So what could the Prince do? He thought of this and that, feeling Thorfinn’s pulse through the fingers on his neck. Absentmindedly he rubbed his thumbs in time with it, studying him. Again Thorfinn couldn’t suppress a shiver and again Canute was moving without thinking at all.

He had pressed their lips together. Why? Not even God above would know. Thorfinn’s lips were chapped, still and shocked against the Prince’s own, but he was warm. Unfairly warm and it seeped into Canute. He could stay this way for a long while if he was completely honest with himself, but one kiss was enough. A gesture of both kindness and affection that Thorfinn could seek out from him if he chose to do so if he ever needed to feel wanted. So Canute pulled away, but instead of the awkward moment he was expecting, strong hands pulled him back in at the hips. Thorfinn had leaned back up and continued the kiss.

The taller blond was not expecting this, but then again he was also not expecting to have kissed Thorfinn in the first place either. His pale hands slipped from Thorfinn’s face and neck and instead slid so Canute could rest his arms on his guard’s shoulders. The hands on his hips were most likely bruising him with how tight they held him, but that was part of what he liked about this moment. Thorfinn was holding him and kissing him like this was something he desperately needed. Canute returned its ferocity and leaned in, making Thorfinn crane his neck at an odd angle, and then ran his tongue over the shorter’s lips. Again this was something neither of them were expecting, not experienced enough to really know what they were doing at all to be honest.

However, surprisingly enough, Thorfinn had again let it happen, letting Canute test the waters. So he did. Canute pushed his tongue into the other blond’s mouth. He felt Thorfinn’s tongue with his own, the roof of his mouth and back of his teeth. It was oddly exhilarating, even more so when Thorfinn mimicked Canute and did the same to him.

As Thorfinn kissed him Canute moved them, pivoting them so Thorfinn was between him and the table. The shorter blond grunted when it happened and turned his head out of the kiss to look at their new position, to which the taller blond took as a chance to place kisses to Thorfinn’s jaw and neck.

“Don’t think that I’m just going to bend over like some paid whore.” Thorfinn muttered, his voice was a little deeper, thicker, Canute couldn’t help but like it, but also couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up from him.

“I wasn’t really planning on it.” He mused, resting his head in the crook of Thorfinn’s neck. Canute watched as Thorfinn reached for his low ponytail and played with the strands tentatively. It almost seemed as if he had been wanting to do so for a while but never had gotten the chance to do so until now. Canute kept that nice little thought in mind as he placed more kisses up Thorfinn’s neck, trailing back up to his mouth.

The two of them kissed some more, each exploring at their own paces. Canute also let his hands wander; Thorfinn was all muscle and bone and very thin. The prince knew that one day, if Thorfinn’s disinterest in his own health didn’t kill him first, that he would be properly strong, with healthy muscle, and a fuller face. At least that’s what he hoped for. Thorfinn did not explore the way Canute did, but his grip remained tight and would squeeze him whenever Canute did something he liked. At some point their hands inched a little higher.

The heat between them slowly, so very slowly, faded and they were back where they started, Canute cupping his face. After a few moments that stopped too.

“Did this ever happen?” Thorfinn asked, voice quiet. Canute blinked at him, it wouldn’t bode well for him if Thorfinn ever told anyone of their little venture, but he was honestly surprised that the other cared at all. But more than that, Canute was surprised to see that the anger that was seemingly permanent on Thorfinn’s features was gone. In its place was something the Prince could not identify, but he would burn the image in his brain. Hard eyes were gone, in its place was only honey and a fair amount of color in his cheeks.

Canute decided he would be the one to give Thorfinn the kindness he deserved. Even if it was just in small doses, seemingly meaningless gestures.

“No.” He replied, leaning down to press a kiss to Thorfinn’s cheek. “But it could happen again if you want.”

The shorter blond huffed and made a gesture for Canute to move. He did and Thorfinn moved towards the door. Canute had expected him to leave, but instead he had taken his previous makeshift post at the door. “Whatever, your Highness”

The Prince took his place back at the table, smiling to himself. That response certainly wasn’t a no. He had more thinking to do.

#vinland saga #thorfinn #canute #prince canute #thornute #character study #vinland saga fanfiction #anime #manga

110 notes · View notes

meganshinsou-tm · 4 years

Text

Crimson|Ink. (m)

↳ chapter twenty-one: dream in a dream

❧ genre: tattoo-shop/hitmen au | tattoo artist/hitman kirishima

❧ fic warning: major character(s) death; happy ending

❧ chapter warnings: n/a

❧ chapter song: Dream in A Dream by Ten

♬crimson|ink playlist | ♧ character profiles

[multi-chap masterlist] [previous chapter - next chapter]

Cheesy Christmas music and buzzed laughter rang out through the shop. Sero, Deku, Hitoshi and Denki were all occupied with a game of cards. So far Sero was really racking up on wins and crumpled up bills while Denki whined into Hitoshi’s shoulder, a very dramatic pout on his face because out of them all he was the one losing the most.

Hitoshi chuckled and ruffled his blonde hair before kissing the top of his head. That made the pout melt away and Denki looked up at him with a blinding smile. The two were unaware of Deku and Sero rolling their eyes and sticking their tongues out in disgust at the display of affection before both taking sips of their beers and averting their attention back to their cards.

“Get through this last game, win or lose, and you can have your present. Deal?” Hitoshi spoke quietly against Denki’s temple.

An excited gasp left his lips and he nodded eagerly.

“Deal!”

So far the night was going really fucking great for everyone!

Not like these Christmas parties weren’t always a blast but with the addition of you and Hitoshi being there this year just made it that much more wonderful. There was way too much food, games were played, karaoke even happened and there were also gifts passed around from everyone.

The whole night Kirishima was happy to see how much you smiled and enjoyed the party. Knowing that you never celebrated the holiday like this before with anyone let alone a family; he was thrilled being able to change that for you. All of the guys were!

They went so far as making Deku dress up as Santa at one point. When he strolled in after disappearing during presents in the full getup, even the fake beard and a hat, you lit up brighter than any of the lights hanging on the shops tree. Shouto made sure to get pictures of you sitting on Santa Deku’s lap and of course everyone else had to get one as well. Soon that whole fiasco ended up being about how many people Deku could even fit on his lap.

To your shock he was able to hold everyone without even breaking a sweat.

After that, things started to settle down and everyone fell into quiet talking among each other before Shouto, Bakugou and Kirishima went outside to smoke. Leaving you with the others until you felt like going back for another plate of dessert and sneaking off to eat it in silence. When you shut the door to one of the studio’s behind you, Shouto and Bakugou came back inside through the back, having a hushed heated argument with each other.

Bakugou had returned from a hit the night before, more banged up than usual. It wasn’t like he couldn’t handle it of course, but still Shouto didn’t like when anyone came back hurt - especially Bakugou.

The two paused in the dim hallway and Bakugou snorted at how pissed Shouto was becoming.

“That face of yours looks pretty cute when you’re mad IcyHot,” Bakugou tried teasing but it only seemed to make Shouto glare even harder. “Tch, chill the fuck out okay? I’m perfectly fine, you know it takes a hell of a lot more to put me out of commission. Besides, we’ve got our own little healer now and she fixed me up. Get your panties out of a wad!”

Shouto growled quietly and the next thing Bakugou knew he was being shoved against the wall. Grey and blue eyes burned into him and mismatched brows furrowed. Literal steam escaped from between Shouto’s lips when he exhaled and the warm air fanned across Bakugou’s cheek making him smirk. Shouto had him practically pinned, invading every inch of his space and not giving him even the slightest chance of moving.

“You shouldn’t rely on her so fucking much Katsuki,” he hissed through his teeth.

Oh he was mad and Bakugou was thrilled.

“She can heal minor wounds, some stitches and relieve a little bit of pain but she can’t bring your cocky ass back from the grave! She’s a healer not a necromancer! Get your shit together Kats or else!”

A feral grin grew on Bakugou’s face and he tilted his head to the side while leaning in closer. His wild red eyes staying locked on Shouto’s and refusing to break contact.

“Or else what pretty boy? Huh - you gonna punish me?”

“Right now is not the time to be a brat and fucking push me, I’m being serious.”

Yeah, Shouto was definitely pissed off.

He cursed here and there but very rarely did it ever hold the grit and sheer animosity that it did right now. Bakugou only heard this tone from Shouto when one of three things was happening. One, he was occupied with his ‘job’. Two, someone was threatening his loved ones. Or three, when he was on the precipice of losing his control with Bakugou.

Bakugou liked to believe it was the latter and that only fueled his want to push that one last button. And so he did.

In a blur Shouto suddenly found himself being the one against the wall. A small ‘oof’ filled the air from the force Bakugou used in pinning him. Warm palms were pressing his wrists against the surface and cinnamon scented breath danced across his lips.

“Brat huh? Last time I checked I was the oldest here so you need to respect your elders - boy.” Bakugou whispered before capturing Shouto’s lips with his own.

Shouto growled into the kiss, his fingers clenching into fists. His blood was boiling; whether because Bakugou was playing dirty at trying to change the subject by pissing him off further or that he was just extremely horny, he didn’t really know.

A rough bite to Bakugou’s bottom lip managed to break the bruising kiss and Shouto panted.

“Maybe if you stopped acting so fucking reckless out there then I would.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes and went back to kissing Shouto, easing his grip on him and allowing Shouto to push him back. They broke long enough to scan the hallway they were in before escaping into Shouto’s studio and locking the door behind them.

Quickly, Shouto went back to kissing Bakugou, wanting more of the taste of eggnog and nicotine on his lips. His hands found narrow hips before picking Bakugou up with ease and carrying him to the tattoo chair. He dropped him without any gentleness, earning a chuckle from the blonde.

“I take back what I said earlier about you being cute when you’re mad,” Bakugou grinned with a rough tug of Shouto’s shirt, “You’re fucking hot.”

Shouto shook his head and placed himself between Bakugou’s knees. His fingers gripped his chin roughly and Bakugou growled when his face was forced to look up at Shouto.

“Sucking up to me now isn’t going to make things better for you. I said we aren’t done talking and I mean it. When we’re done here, we’re having a serious talk at my place.”

Bakugou went to spew out his usual profanities but Shouto’s hand firmly wrapping around his throat while the other rubbed teasingly at his inner thigh cut that off quick.

“And depending on how good you can be for me right now will decide how long that talk lasts. So it’s your choice - be a good boy and I can fuck you longer later or keep being a fucking brat and I bitch at you for hours before I finally fuck you and more than likely not you let cum.”

The obvious gulp and twitch of Bakugou’s eye was all the surrender Shouto was going to get and he would take it. With that, the two went back to devouring each other’s mouths, hands grasping and pulling at each other desperately like starved men. And they were starved, for each other.

For years now Shouto and Bakugou had been hooking up on and off and it had been just a couple of weeks since the last time they touched like this. It wasn’t because they didn’t want to, there were missions and also the twenty-four hour security on you that occupied most of their waking hours. Neither of them would ever complain about that of course, your safety was priority over their need to get their dicks wet.

Why neither of them ever fought for more than just being fuck buddies was beyond them. They both very obviously cared for and maybe even loved the other but neither Bakugou nor Shouto said anything to possibly change that. In between this weird relationship Shouto never sought out the touch of anyone else, he didn’t care for it. Bakugou fooled around here and there but never went as far as small sexual favors with anyone other than Shouto.

But more and more lately, especially since you and Kirishima finally became an item and Hitoshi and Denki started to pretty much date, they both wondered to themselves if maybe they should give this a shot at being something more.

It wasn’t odd for them to cuddle and spend the night with each other. Shouto called Bakugou by cheesy pet names and Bakugou maybe blushed and secretly loved it. When they were going through one of their flings you would think the two were boyfriends but they weren’t. And the only reason there was no label between them was simply because neither of them asked. They were both aware of their feelings. In fact, it all came out one night after fucking each other’s brains out and snuggling but it was simply left at that.

No one but Sero knew about any of this and that was only because he walked in on them once.

“Hey,” Bakugou managed to say between their heated kisses.

Shouto pulled back enough to look at Bakugou in the dim light and lightly brushed his knuckles along his cheek.

“Something wrong, did I hurt you?”

“Jesus fuck, no Shouto, I’m fine. I just … it’s stupid but … maybe later at your place we can revist that one conversation, you know - uh.”

Bakugou hated how he couldn’t find the words he was searching for. Hated how nervous he was all of a sudden. And he hated how Shouto was always the only one who could literally make him speechless and dumbfounded.

“I know and yes, I’d love to revisit that talk. I’ve been wanting to for a while now.”

A sigh left Bakugou and he nodded before putting back on a cocky grin and pulling Shouto in for another kiss. It was all Shouto needed to know that Bakugou was done talking and wanted to get back to the task at hand. After giving a playful bite and lick to Bakugou’s lip that earned a soft moan, Shouto went about palming over the bulge that was straining in the blonde’s jeans while he sucked a pretty bruise onto his collarbone.

“F-Fucker,” Bakugou breathed out, arching his back and pressing his chest to Shouto’s. “Jumping my ass for coming back looking all busted up only to bruise me even more huh?”

Shouto kissed at the mark he made and squeezed Bakugou’s erection hard enough to make him moan louder and squirm on the chair. He couldn’t help but grind his own crotch against Bakugou’s, pressing his forehead against his shoulder and biting off a groan while Bakugou let out another moan.

“Shh, be quiet Kat, do you want the others to know just how much of a little slut you are?”

The threat did nothing to help Bakugou from losing his fucking mind and his hips bucked up to feel more friction between the two of them because at this point he didn’t care and he was prepared to let the entire god damn world know how gone he was for Shouto if it meant more. But before he could respond there was a strangled choke that didn’t come from either of them.

Shouto and Bakugou both froze and held their breath, looking at the other before turning their heads in the direction the sound came from. When two sets of eyes landed on you pounding your chest with a piece of half eaten cheesecake on a small plate, you let out a weak nervous laugh.

“I uh - was just trying to hog the last piece for myself. Didn’t think I’d get dessert and a show.”

Never in the entire time of knowing him had you seen Bakugou so red all over. A crazed look washed over his face and you knew he was getting ready to blow, no pun intended. Shouto on the other hand was trying not to make the situation worse by laughing and rested a hand on Bakugou’s shoulder to try and calm him but any hope of that was ruined with your next choice of words.

“Mind if I stay and watch?”

There was no warning to Bakugou lunging off the tattoo chair, not giving a single fuck that he was sporting a very obvious boner. You and Shouto both laughed and you ran like hell from the studio, just barely closing the door in Bakugou’s face and holding the doorknob to keep it from turning. On the other side you could hear Shouto doing his best to calm his secret lover while Bakugou made numerous empty threats to obliterate you.

You were in a fit a giggles when Kirishima rounded the corner and sighed before walking your way.

“There you are little one, I’ve been looking for you. What the hell is he going off about now?”

Turning around to face Kirishima, you shook your head with a smile and leaned against the door with your arms crossed. “Nothing, just giving Katsuki a very hard time as usual.”

Kirishima shrugged and moved to stand before you. He leaned in closer and kissed your lips sweetly before unfolding your arms and taking your hands in his.

“Well if you aren’t busy, I need you to come with me now. There’s something I need to show you.”

Without another word, you happily went along with Kirishima to his studio. Once inside he shut the door and locked it. Being the mountain of a man that he was, it only took three long strides for him to be before you again, picking you up by the hips with ease. You squealed at the sudden lift and found yourself being placed on his tattoo chair. After sharing a quick kiss and rubbing your noses together, Kirishima stepped away and went towards the cabinets. You watched closely while he opened one and pulled out a medium sized box that was wrapped in red paper with a gold bow.

“Ei, we said not until in the morning! I don’t have any of your presents here,” you whined and pouted from your spot on the chair.

Kirishima chuckled and gave an apologetic smile, making his way back over to you and holding the box between your bodies.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry little one … I just couldn’t wait for this one. You see, I wanted to give it to you in the exact spot where we met for the first time.”

You offered up a smile to Kirishima and lifted a hand to stroke his cheek.

“Aww, you mean when you were a total asshole to me? Man, those were the days!”

“You’re still as much of a pain in my ass as you were then you know that?” Kirishima teased and nipped at your cheek.

You snapped your teeth back at him when he pulled away and took your hand from his face in exchange for holding it. Together you looked at how small your palm was inside of his and how much space was left between your fingers even when they laced together. It always made your heart flutter when you saw just how much Kirishima’s hand covered yours.

“Would you believe me if I told you I fell in love with you the moment I laid eyes on you, standing there next to me while I tattooed that stupid hand on Denki?”

You giggled and looked up at Kirishima, tilting your head and chewing on your lip.

“Hmm, at the time I wouldn’t believe it but knowing what I do now - one hundred percent. Answer me this though and be honest,” you smirked and tried to sit up as tall as you could to be face level. “Were you jealous that Denki got my number first?”

Kirishima grinned and kissed you with a sense of possession that made your skin feel like it was on fire. Sharp teeth bit at your bottom lip before he broke away and brought you back from the short lived sinful desires and you smiled on each others lips.

“Fucking livid.”

The briefly forgotten box was then being offered to you along with one of Kirishima’s famous sharp toothed smiles that made you melt. You decided that trying to deny the gift would be pointless right now and took a deep breath in and out before letting go of his hand and took the box from him.

“Go ahead little one, open it.”

Not needing to be told twice, your hands started to eagerly unwrap the box. Kirishima chuckled and made sure to take the paper and bow once you discarded them and watched nervously when you started to remove the lid from the box. Your smile slowly started to fall and curiosity took over when you began digging into it.

Inside was what looked like a very worn and well used small tattoo machine. The paint on it was dull in some spots, the metallic sheen of it not as bright and vibrant as what a newer one would be. There were a few knicks and scratches on it but it still looked to be in great condition. It was obviously very loved and taken care of.

Sitting beneath it was another worn object, a sketchbook. On the front of it in bold Japanese letters was a name and it made you gasp quietly before taking your bottom lip between your teeth to chew on nervously.

Yagi Toshinori.

You swallowed the lump in your throat before looking up at Kirishima. He was smiling fondly at you before looking down at the contents of the box.

“They both belonged to him before they were passed on to me when I joined the shop,” Kirishima took the machine out of the box and weighed it in his hand with a grin. “I remember when this thing felt like it weighed fifty pounds and now it feels like a feather.”

The corner of your mouth turned up and you snorted quietly.

“You mean you haven’t always been freakishly large?”

“Compared to Yagi? Nah. I was a dwarf next to him back in the day but damn did I always want to be like him! Out of him and Enji, Yagi was the one that took me and Bakugou under his wing but Bakugou was stronger than I was, always has been, so he didn’t really cling to Yagi as much as I did when we first got here,” a small easy smile dressed Kirishima’s face and he chuckled.

“He also just didn’t have the patience for tattooing. So that meant me and Yagi grew real close, he became my mentor for tattooing and just - in life. I never had a father figure and when he showed up and showed all this interest and pride in me, I just wanted to make him proud. He was my hero.”

You looked down at the machine and the sketchbook in the box, suddenly feeling guilt consume you. The weight of it suddenly felt like a thousand pounds in your lap and you squirmed slightly. You knew how much Yagi meant to everyone, to Kirishima. And no matter how many times they reminded you that what happened wasn’t your fault, it still could never stop those nagging thoughts. The thoughts of what if … what if you tried to stay behind, to help.

Maybe you could’ve changed the outcome of his fate.

“E-Ei … I … I don’t think I should take this. Despite what you say, I already feel like I’ve taken enough of him from you … I can’t take this one last thing -”

Kirishima cut you off quickly by placing the small machine in your hands. You tried to pull them away, to shift it back into his but he was too strong, too big. They fucking caged your own around the machine and he was right.

It did feel heavy, it felt like the weight of the entire fucking world was literally in your hands.

“You didn’t take anything from me, from us. I know it’s going to take some time for you to believe that but baby, I promise it’s true. If Yagi could see you now, see the potential, the skills you have that keep growing, he would literally yank these from my own hands and place them into yours, just like I’m doing now.”

Not once did you take your eyes off of your hands being held by Kirishima’s, not even to try and hide the tears that pricked in the corners of your eyes. But they were disposed of anyway when Kirishima leaned forward to kiss them away before bringing your conjoined hands up to his lips and kissed them.

“Yagi would want you to have them. I want you to have them,” he smiled and pressed his forehead to yours, “So please little one, take them, they’re yours now.”

You nodded slowly, bringing yours and his hands holding the machine close to your chest.

“Okay, I will. Thank you Eijirou - thank you so much, for everything.”

At the same time you both smiled at each other, Kirishima freed your hands in order to let you place the tattoo machine gently back into the box before closing and setting it to the side on the chair. When you looked at him again, he cupped your cheeks and pulled you in close for a long and sweet kiss. You melted into him like you always did, hands bracing his stomach and eyes fluttering shut while your heart fluttered in your chest.

Without a doubt, this Christmas was the most amazing one you’ve had in years.

When the sweet kisses finally broke, Kirishima pulled away and smirked.

“You wanna do it?”

A knowing smile grew on your lips and with excited eyes you nodded.

Not even fifteen minutes later Yagi’s tattoo machine was wrapped and put together with a fresh needle. Two ink cups full of red color sat on the rolling tray along with the rest of the setup for a tattoo. Kirishima sat proudly on the tattoo chair now, watching as you pulled a pair of black latex gloves from the box. You put together the setup all on your own with only his words of guidance to help here and there. When you turned around to face him you smiled wide and snapped the bottom of one glove.

“Alright - strip!”

Kirishima smirked at the jog in memory he had from those words and briefly thought back to the day when he told you the exact same thing. It felt like it was years ago now but it still made both of you chuckle. He then sat back on his palms and tilted his head up at you, a sly look in his red eyes and a pointed tooth puncturing his bottom lip.

“You wanna smash now, while everyone is here? I’m not complaining or anything, but we aren’t exactly quiet, don’t wanna make everyone jealous little one.”

“Eijirou!”

At that Kirishima teased a flash of his stomach by pulling up the hem of his shirt, giving you a playful wink. “That’s right baby, say my name!”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed for an empty ink cup and tossed it at the red-head.

“I hope you get a fucking infection from this!”

A hearty laugh erupted from Kirishima and he finally did as instructed. While he shrugged off his shirt, you quickly printed up the small stencils needed and made your way over to him. Both of you smiled and a comfortable silence settled as you applied the stencil onto the skin of his left pectoral, as close as possible to being over his heart. Your gloved hand smoothed over the paper before slowly peeling it off to reveal the outline of the small tattoo.

“You sure you want it here? It’s right smack dab in the middle of your oni.”

Kirishima smiled, hands moving to rest on your hips and pulled you closer between his legs so he could kiss your cheek.

“It's right where it should be.”

You let out a relieved breath and giggled when he started to pepper your face with more kisses. Kirishima hadn’t even received the tattoo yet but he was so full of pride.

“Okay you overgrown pup, you ready?”

“Let’s get it!”

You pulled away enough to take Yagi’s machine in your hand. Kirishima helped you get the hang of how to hold it correctly and placed his hands back on your hips, letting you take over from there.

You had watched him and the others enough to know how to make the machine buzz to life, practiced on fake pieces of flesh before with their own machines. But when this machine powered up and vibrated in your hand you couldn’t help the surprised sound that fell out of your mouth. It made Kirishima chuckle and kiss your forehead.

“I know little one. Just take a breath and go slow, I know you’ve got this.”

Nodding, you did as he said and took a deep breath, dipped the end of the needle into the dark red ink and brought it up to the purple outline of the stencil. On the exhale out, the needle touched already tattooed skin and Kirishima let out a content breath. His thumbs rubbed gently on your hips and he angled his head enough to watch you work, even if it was uncomfortable as fuck.

“There you go, I told you, you got it,” he praised softly, making you smile and blush.

It didn’t take long for the ink to work into his skin and for the script to take its shape. The tattoo was small so it wasn’t taking you long at all to do and it was simple, perfect for your first time tattooing real human skin. And no matter how small and simple it was, Kirishima couldn’t help but overflow with happiness, with pride and love. It made him grin so big to see you tattooing him and without barely any help needed from him and in no time you were done, cutting off the buzzing noise and setting the machine down on the tray.

“That’s my girl.”

You smiled from ear to ear while applying green soap to a paper towel and wiping it across the small tattoo. When it was fully cleaned, you took off the latex gloves and placed a palm over the fresh tattoo. Heat radiated from it and you could feel the rise of it like braille. Kirishima placed his hand over it and you looked at him.

A warm glow bathed the lower half of his face, making his eyes shimmer when you activated your quirk and healed the tattoo. Kirishima hummed and squeezed your hand gently before you both removed them and looked at the permanent red ink that graced his skin.

Kirishima felt a warmth blossom all throughout his body when he looked upon the Japanese symbols for ‘'little one’ that marked his body.

“How’d I do for my first one?” You asked, placing your finger onto the tattoo to trace it softly.

Your body was pulled closer to Kirishima and he took your chin between his fingers to tilt your face up. A chaste sweet kiss was placed on your lips and you giggled.

“Fucking perfect,” he cooed against your cheek before pulling away to look you over. “Now it’s my turn. You know the drill little one, strip.”

With a cheeky smile, you placed a kiss to the tip of Kirishima’s nose and pushed at his chest in order to gain distance between the two of you. His red eyes watched closely as you took a few steps back, hands gripping the edge of the chair and torso leaning forward like a predator eyeing its prey.

All night Kirishima would steal glances, known and also unknown to you. He couldn’t get enough of you in the red velvet dress you wore. The sleeves and neckline were lace, giving subtle peeks of the pieces of skin he loved to smother in kisses and bites. It was tight in the right places and the hem stopped mid-thigh.

Your hands ran along the spanse of your stomach and to your hips, sliding down to map out the shape of them until your finger-tips gripped at the hem and started to slowly pull the dress up. Kirishima bit at his bottom lip and went to move further but you stopped him with a teasing ‘uh-uh’.

His red eyes had gone from lustful to pissed so fast it made you laugh.

“Patience puppy. Since you gave me a gift early, I guess I can go ahead and give you one of yours that I was planning for later.”

More impatience grew in Kirishima’s eyes and you smirked and continued to pull the dress up your body, over your head and fully off before dropping it on the floor. Kirishima remained where he sat, taking in the red lingerie that remained on your body. The soft lacey edges of it and how it stood out against the bold black ink of your tattoos. His fingers gripped the chair tighter, making the leather squeak and he looked like he was ready to crawl out of his skin.

“Do you like it Ei?”

The balls of his feet touched the floor.

“Yes.”

“Do you want to touch me Ei?”

He slowly stood from the chair. Hands staying put on it.

“Please.”

You smiled and walked closer to stand before Kirishima. He towered over you and you felt like you were staring up at a beast. Not wanting to deny him or yourself any longer, you raised a hand and brushed the back of your knuckles down his cheek.

“You’re such a good boy Eijirou. Go ahead then, you can have me.”

Not needing to be told twice, Kirishima immediately had his hands on you. Your feet left the floor so fast and your legs wrapped around a broad waist. Before you could even process that, you were being placed on the tattoo chair with a desperate massive redhead between your legs, capturing your mouth with his.

Just as you were about to pound on Kirishima’s chest to let him know you needed air, he pulled away and started to kiss down your throat to the tattoo on your sternum. You gasped, a hand running through his spiked red hair and tugged when sharp teeth grazed down the black octopus. Giant hands caged your ribs and you whined looking down at how much skin they covered.

It wasn’t exactly a secret to either of you that the sheer size of Kirishima made you melt.

Kirishima smiled against your skin, tugging at the front of the bra with his teeth then shifting your torso enough to give him your right side. You smiled down at him, petting at his hair when Kirishima pushed the band up to expose the very first tattoo that started it all.

“I’ve been waiting to put my mark on you again little one,” he spoke and kissed the small tattoo.

“Well then, stop drooling on me and get to it!”

Kirishima chuckled and stood straight, stole one last kiss and turned to the tray next to him. While he replaced the needle on the machine and got himself ready, you occupied yourself by running your hands all over his chest and stomach. Placing kisses and nips to his collarbones and pecs. Making sure to be careful, Kirishima would play along and kiss and bite back in-between placing the stencil on the same area of your skin that his tattoo was on.

You gasped and forced down a shiver from the coldness of it, making Kirishima chuckle. You only stopped your playing long enough for him to pull the stencil off and approve of its positioning. He smiled and picked up the machine that he hadn’t used in years, the weight of it feeling familiar and like home. Looking at the stencil and back to your face, Kirishima felt a rush of adrenaline course through him from the thought of being able to brand you once again.

And this time it would mean so much more and would bond the two of you together forever.

“Alright baby, I need you to stay still for me now, okay? You can do that right, be a good girl for me?”

You smirked and let your fingers hang along the waist of Kirshima’s jeans, thumbs brushing along his cut line. It would be a distraction but he told himself mentally that he could do this!

“Yes daddy.”

Shit. He hoped he could do this.

Shaking his head, Kirishima pet your cheek with his gloved free hand and made the machine in his opposite buzz two times. “That’s my little one.”

You smiled at the praise and soon the silence was filled once again with the buzzing of the tattoo machine. The smile on your face didn’t leave when the needle touched down on your skin but it did become a little pained. Kirishima glanced at you and smirked, appreciating how strong you were trying to be through the sting of the tattoo. And thankfully for you, the process didn’t last as long as his did and before you knew it Kirishima was placing the machine back onto the tray and wiping the small piece clean.

For a moment, Kirishima stood there and stared at the permanent ink. His focus broke when you placed your palm over the tattoo and grabbed one of his hands with your opposite one to rest it over yours on your chest.

That familiar golden glow that Kirishima loved appeared under your palm and his red eyes watched in amazement. He always loved the sight of your quirk in use, it was so beautiful to him. After a few times of seeing it work, he realized that if he looked at your eyes, they seemed to faintly glimmer a golden hue as well.

Kirishima could feel thrumming and warmth under your hand while the tattoo healed. You both took a deep breath and pulled both hands away and looked down.

In red ink, his name was now on your skin forever.

After removing his gloves, Kirishima tossed them onto and rolled the tray away from his side. You grinned up at him when his hands came up and held your face. Kirishima didn’t need to pull you in, you were already leaning into him and seeking out his kiss. Your hands moved to hang from his wrists and you hummed happily when he pulled away.

“Now its permanent little one, you belong to me.”

You bit at his cheek and hooked your fingers around the waist of his jeans, tugging him close between your legs with a small grunt.

“And you Eijirou, belong to me.”

“Toshi, please! I was good! Please can I have it!”

Hitoshi grinned smugly, dangling a small box above Denki’s head where they both sat cuddled on the couch.

“Ah but I like when you beg. Maybe I’ll keep it a little longer.”

Denki smirked and playfully punched Hitoshi's chest, “Or give it to me now and we can sneak out of here sooner and go to your place where I’ll beg even prettier for you.”

Now that Hitoshi couldn’t deny.

The box dropped into Denki’s lap and Hitoshi leaned over to kiss his cheek. Denki squealed happily and wasted no time in ripping the wrapping paper off. He pulled a small switchblade from his coat pocket in order to cut the taped sides and Hitoshi snorted.

“You’re fucking adorable with those things.”

Denki skillfully twirled the blade in his fingers before closing and putting it away with a chipper ‘thanks’. His focus went back to opening the box to find a small framed piece of artwork inside of it.

It looked like a tarot card, two characters in suits that were kissing with cloths covering their faces. There were flowers on either side of them and simple stars floated above their heads. At the base of the card there were bold letters.

‘The Lovers’.

Denki examined the piece for a few more moments, letting its meaning saturate him.

Him and Hitoshi truly were polar opposites - light and dark, the sun and the moon.

That's why they worked so well together and balanced each other out. Denki could go on and on explaining it, he does all the time to Hitoshi because he’s just so smitten and god damn in love with him but when it came down to it - they just work.

Hitoshi made this, just for him, it took him time to make and it was priceless. Denki knew Hitoshi wasn’t as direct or forward as he was but he knew that with this piece, it wasHitoshi’s own way of acknowledging what they were. Partners. A couple.

Lovers.

Denki didn’t even realize he had shed a tear or two until he felt a cool knuckle wiping the corner of his eye.

“Is it that terrible?” Hitoshi teased.

Denki shook his head and laughed, wiping the tear from his opposite eye before he tossed himself into Hitoshi’s chest and hugged him. Despite the frame being between them and making the hug somewhat uncomfortable, Hitoshi smiled and wrapped his arms around the smaller male.

“It’s amazing Toshi, really. I - I love it so much!”

Hitoshi hummed and kissed the top of Denki’s head, his hand rubbing his back firmly.

Golden eyes looked up at him with that unconditional adoration that they always held and Hitoshi couldn’t deny how they always made his heart flip. And if you were to tell him that this erratic, very chaotic electric blonde would somehow become the very bane of his existence in every amazing way possible without any fucking warning a few weeks ago, he would’ve laughed. It wasn’t like Hitoshi to fall in love, to fall at all for anyone in such a short amount of time but - Denki Kaminari wasn’t just anyone.

“... I uh, I love you so much.”

The moment the words came out of his mouth Hitoshi felt relieved and terrified at the same time. But that terror was quickly washed away when Denki took his face in his hands and kissed him with a massive smile. Hitoshi melted, removed the frame from between them to sit to the side and pulled him closer into his lap to kiss him back.

Sero and Deku, both still in the same room as the two lovebirds making out, groaned in disgust together as they got up from their seats and went to get more beers. Sero shook his head and patted his friend on the back while they walked away.

After a few more minutes, the need to pee became more obvious to Hitoshi from Denki being in his lap. He placed his hands on his thighs and squeezed them gently, teeth softly biting at his bottom lip before pulling away with a grin.

“Alright cutie, let me up for a sec, I gotta piss.”

Denki pouted and whined but rolled off of Hitoshi and back onto the couch. Hitoshi smirked and playfully tickled his side as he stood up, earning a soft kick to his ass from Denki.

After coming out of the bathroom, Hitoshi decided to go to the kitchen first before returning to Denki to get himself something else to eat. As he was searching through the food, his phone chimed in his pocket and he pulled it out to check it with a roll shoved between his teeth. The text message he received made him still and quirk a brow.

➥Kage: Was in town and decided to stop by the shop to give you something real quick. Come outside.

It stumped Hitoshi as to why or how Kage even knew he was at the shop. Why he was even in town when he knew Kage to live a couple hours away. Before Hitoshi could text back questioning him, another message came in.

➥Kage: NOW!

“What the fuck,” Hitoshi groaned. He walked from the kitchen and back to the front, catching Denki’s attention, “Hey I’m gonna step outside real quick, my buddy Kage is here with something, it’ll only be a sec.”

Denki nodded and smiled. “Alright handsome, also I just realized that I didn’t respond a while ago.”

Hitoshi tilted his head, confusion on his face.

“I love you too Toshi.”

A smile grew on Hitoshi’s face and he rubbed the back of his neck, giving Denki a shrug and waving his hand with a casual ‘yeah, yeah,’ and made his way down the hall. On the walk out Hitoshi ran into Bakugou and Shouto coming out of a room, both looking like a hot mess. He didn’t bother asking any questions, wanting to live through the night and just grinned at them both and walked out the back door.

Sure enough once he was out in the cold, Hitoshi spotted Kage leaning against a van that in all honestly was a little creepy looking. Shaking his head, Hitoshi pulled the hood of his jacket closer around his neck and crossed his arms and walked over to Kage.

“Hey man, uh, what exactly are you doing way the hell out here?”

Kage smirked, “Sorry to crash your party Shinsou but I got orders.”

Hitoshi narrowed his eyes, “What are you -”

With a glimmer of Kage’s silver eyes, Hitoshi suddenly froze.

“Go inside, tell the girl that you found a cat and she needs to come see it then bring her out here to me.”

Acting on its own, Hitoshi’s body turned and he began to walk back inside the shop. Things seemed normal to him, he felt normal. Except his mind felt fuzzy and there was a sense of disassociation floating in his head. His mouth moved and words came out but they felt so foreign to him.

Then you walked out of one of the studios with Kirishima, talking among yourselves, and his focus sharpened quickly on you.

“There you are kitten,” Hitoshi spoke out automatically.

You turned in his direction and smiled before turning back to Kirishima.

“Hey, I’ll meet you up front,” you said to the red-head with a kiss to his cheek.

He nodded and kissed you back, letting go of your hand and turning to walk away from you. Once he was gone and you were before Hitoshi, he pet the top of your head, earning a giggle.

“What’s up Toshi?”

“There’s this, well kitten, that I found outside and I figured you’d wanna see it, maybe sneak it back home in your coat or something.”

Immediately your eyes widened with interest and a giant smile grew on your face. Hitoshi couldn’t help but grin back and feel his heart skip a beat. He always loved your smiles.

“Come on, lets go,” he stage whispered and took your hand in his.

Happily you went along with him, wrapping yourself around his arm and bracing for the cold. Right when the two of you stepped outside of the door, Denki happened to walk down the hall and caught the sound of you giggling together. Piquing his interests, he decided to quietly follow behind with a smile of his own.

Abruptly though those giggles stopped and he swore he could’ve heard a yell, then it was cut off.

He didn’t know why but Denki knew something wasn’t right.

He felt cold all over suddenly and picked up his walking pace towards the door. Once he got closer, Denki could make out the sound of multiple voices. Voices he didn’t recognize. And it wasn’t until he could clearly make out a muffled scream and Hitoshi’s strained ‘let her go,’ that he bolted out of the door and felt his heart drop.

The noise around him suddenly went out and all Denki could hear was ringing. Fear and shock started to grow from the tips of his toes and up to his head.

Through the falling snow Denki watched as you and Hitoshi were both dragged into the back of a white van. Kicking and fighting against your captors. For some reason Denki could only manage moving one foot at a time.

They felt like fucking lead.

When your tearfilled eyes landed on his along with a set of ice blue ones, Denki finally found his voice.

“(Y-Y/N)! Toshi! - wait,” he screamed out, finally moving his feet faster after the van that started to pull out of the area, “Give them back you fucking - g-give them back!”

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seokjinsdisciple · 4 years

Text

Mine

vampire!jinyoung x reader

jinyoung enlists your help to get free blood, but he never thought things would turn out like this.

requested, unedited

warnings: a lot of blood licking/drinking, unprotected sex, non-consensual biting, one of the vampire characters wants to die, doll, pussy eating, drinking, swearing, i think thats it?

word count: 3.7k

It wasn’t unusual for there to be an unwanted visitor in your hospital. In fact, more often than not there was an addict trying to get into the drug supplies, but an intruder in the Blood Bank was new. You worked the night shift, and you often found yourself in situations that, frankly, the day shift nurses would never have to deal with. Most nights, you were unbothered, but there was something about tonight that had been...weird.

You made your way further into the dark room, your eyes slowly adjust to the lack of light that was completely opposite to the stark white light in the hall. At first, you didn’t see him. His dark clothing helping him to blend in, but as you approached his figure became more clear. As if he could hear you, even from this distance, he froze. Head turning slowly to face you.

If you had been a day nurse, you would’ve screamed, maybe even ran away, but you didn’t. Maybe you were curious, maybe you were just plain stupid, all you knew was that man had glowing red eyes. Try as you might to attribute what you saw to exhaustion and lack of sleep, you knew you’d be lying to yourself. So here you were, standing in front of a man with glowing red eyes, and the both of you were frozen.

With a shaky cough and your confidence built, “Sir, you can’t be in here,” came out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. You could see the man shove something into his pocket, and before you could protest any further, he tried pushing around you to the door, but stopped when he noticed the bright lights in the hall.

Your brows scrunched in confusion, if he hadn’t come in that door, how did he get in here?

You tried to stop him as he turned to come back towards you, but he was too strong. He scrambled past you with ease, and when you tried to follow, your arm scraped across the broken glass of the cabinet he had been searching through. While it hurt, you didn’t think much of it, at least, not until your eyes flew back to the escaping stranger. He stood, still, the only movement coming from his heaving chest. You had been freaked out before, but now, as absolute silence filled the room, you were scared. He still didn’t face you, it was as if he was frozen. In an instant, the atmosphere changed, his hands recklessly tearing at his pockets to get whatever it was that he had stolen out. You were left stunned as you realized what he was now ravenously drinking from, a blood bag.

“What are you doing?” you shrieked, hurrying over to the stranger, and pulling at his arm. In an instant, his hand was wrapped around your wrist, blood dripping from his mouth and his eyes burning into where blood was dripping from your fresh cut.

“You stupid little girl,” he hissed, bringing your arm up to his mouth and smirking, “your blood smells so...delicious,” he growled, tongue running across your wound. You were frozen, you had no clue what to do, especially as his teeth were getting so close to biting into your arm. With his teeth just centimeters away from sinking into your flesh, the light flickered on. One of your shocked coworkers stood at the door, her eyes widening as the man who had been about to attack you hurried to the window and jumped out.

You stood there in shock as she rushed to you, her questions mixing with your own in your head. Thoughts swirled in your brain as you mindlessly followed her. Why the hell was he drinking blood? Who was he? Why were his eyes red? Why were you about to let him… do whatever it was he was about to do to you?

You winced as she cleaned your wound, trying to imagine how the rest of your shift would go. You only had a few hours left, and although you were shaken up, your curiosity was overpowering any fears that you had.

The rest of your shift flew by, your work keeping you busy, but not busy enough to occupy your mind. As you glanced down at your blood-soaked shoes, courteous of the visitor who had been in your mind all night, you huffed out a curse. You didn’t want to have to clean your shoes, but there was no way you would be walking around your next shift looking like you just came from a horror film.

You pulled your coat closer to your body as you walked out of the hospital. You were used to walking home, you had been doing it for a while, but you never got used to the bone-chilling wind that happens at 3AM. As you walked, you felt eyes watching you, your apartment wasn’t far now, and although you felt a little creeped out, you were sure it would pass. Your heart started beating faster as you heard footsteps fall in time with your own. You glanced into the window of a shop as you passed, but there was no one behind you. You tried to shake the eerie feeling that you were being followed, but your fears just rose.

It wasn’t until you passed an alleyway that your worst fears were imagined. A hand pulled you hard, as another covered your mouth, effectively muffling your scream. You tried to fight as the man pushed you against the wall, but his strength was far greater than anything you had ever encountered.

You watched helplessly as he ripped your coat and bandage off, “You don’t realize how dangerous it is to be walking around with blood that smells that good.”

At this point, you were just baffled, what were the odds of getting attacked twice in one night by two different people who were both obsessed with blood. You saw his eyes go red, and when he saw your unfazed reaction, you resisted rolling your eyes. He was confused you weren’t shocked to see his eye change, but he didn’t know you had been through this already. You had escaped one stranger tonight, you could escape another.

As he tried to steady you enough to bite you, you wriggled. You were going to get free, you were determined. Neither of you noticed the man coming until he was already knocking down your attacker. You did a double-take at your savior, recognizing his face as the stranger from earlier. As if this night couldn’t get any worse.

“Bang Chan, I told you to stay away from her,” the man from before said as he wrestled with who you now knew to be Bang Chan.

“How was I supposed to know she was the one you were talking about?” He hisses back, rolling on top of the man and throwing a punch before quickly being flipped over again, “I’m hungry, boss. And she was walking down the street smelling soo delicious.”

You watched as the two continued to fight, backing away slowly to not draw any attention to yourself. When you were far enough away, you ran, their angry voices fading away as your feet carried you through streets and into a pub.

After all that had happened to you tonight, you deserve a drink. You sidled up to the bar, sitting in the seat farthest away from the rest of the patrons. You needed a moment to think and relax and have a drink. So that’s what you did. You had one drink, and then another, and then one more. You weren’t drinking quickly, burning some time before heading home.

As you motioned to the bartender to close your tab, a voice rang out.

“I’ll cover her drinks, and can I have a shot of gin, please,” the voice from earlier rang out from behind you. You sighed as the man sat next to you, “You really are a difficult human to find.”

You just glanced at him, his skin perfect, and face obnoxiously handsome. “And you are sure hard to get rid of,” you quipped back, annoyed to find yourself in his presence again.

He chuckled, his teeth normal when you checked. This made him smile again, “I’m a little less starving now, so I look a little nicer.”

You just nodded, trying to ignore the multitude of questions from swirling in your brain and effectively ignore him.

“You can’t be thinking about ignoring me now, can you doll?” His eyebrow quirked, a knowing smile gracing his lips as your eyes widened.

“What can’t you do?” You practically groaned, tired of every new… ability he seemingly developed.

“I’m not invisible,” He laughed, “Well, unless you include my reflection.”

His cocky attitude was starting to wear down your will to ignore him. As much as you hated to admit it, he was funny.

“What do you want from me? Besides my blood, anyway?” You asked.

He glanced down as he let out another chuckle, “You can offer me something special, something that would help me and my friends.”

You nodded at this, you figured he was talking about the blood bank attached to your hospital. What you didn’t understand was why you? There were several other local hospitals, all with blood banks.

“But you’re pretty, doll. And smart too,” He spoke, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Mm-” You hummed, curiosity still filling your head with questions, “and what exactly do I gain by helping you?”

“My protection, and the fact that I won’t kill you for refusing me,” his eyes flashed red, as if warning you to press your luck. When he put it that way, you didn’t have much of a choice, more concerned for your own safety.

“I’m Jinyoung,” he introduced himself as the bartender collected his money, “Let’s get you home, Y/N.”

He was true to his word, walking you home from the bar, and promising to walk you home from work whenever you had a shift. He left you his number and a promise that one of the members of his coven would be in touch about the details.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. Jinyoung walked you home after every shift, and you gave the coven as much blood as you can without drawing suspicion. Now, your system was a well-oiled one. Not as clumsy as you had been in the beginning, you were getting away with taking more and more. Jinyoung was often texting you, and in normal situations, you would have considered him a good friend. He was always touchy with you, but he never crossed any boundaries. You weren’t sure how it worked with vampire boys, but you were pretty sure he liked you.

The first time you had ever gone to the JYP coven’s base, whispers filled the halls. Things like “oh, so that’s boss’s girl” and “she’s pretty”. These weren’t the first suspicions you had, but they proved to be the most convincing. Especially because of the way Jinyoung reacted to the new fledgling calling you pretty. Safe to say, you and Jinyoung were close. So naturally, you were a little concerned when he texted you that he was unable to walk you home tonight because there was a big meeting with another coven.

It must’ve been serious for Jinyoung to abandon you, something he had never once done. You knew you’d be fine, the only trouble you had ever had walking home being the trouble that Jinyoung himself had caused. Really, you should’ve put it together earlier. You knew about the meeting, and you knew the only other coven in town were JYP’s rivals. You realized it too late, something you figured out as you were being dragged off of the streets and into a van.

Your captors weren’t cruel, but you knew it was because you were being used as a bargaining chip. You felt especially bad after skipping the last month of self-defense classes (as Jinyoung insisted). Maybe you would have some idea of what to do to be less helpless. To be less human. But you didn’t, and now you were tied to this very uncomfortable chair while you waited.

You had no concept of how long you had been in the room, it had felt like hours, days even. You wondered if the hospital would report you missing, or if they would just end up firing you for missing so many shifts.

You jumped as the door opened, a man appearing before you with your phone in his hand.

“Answer and tell him you’re ok,” The man commanded, giving you no sympathy as he held the phone up to your ear.

“Y/N?” Jinyoung's voice rang out of the receiver, “Are you hurt, what are they doing to you, where are you?”

“I’m ok Jinyoung,” You started, “They haven’t don- hey!”

The man taking the receiver and pressing the end call. “Sorry, doll, but he wouldn’t stop calling.”

The man dragged his finger across your jawline and down your neck, tapping lightly on the space between your shoulder and neck. Bile rose in your throat at him calling you doll and the way his hands lingered on you. You turned your head to avoid his touch, the nickname doll ringing through your ears. Jinyoung’s nickname for you, and no one else's.

“Ah ah,” the man tsked your wriggling, eyes briefly going red as he pressed harshly on your shoulder, “I’m in charge here.”

“What do you want from me?” You questioned your resolve to get out of this mess building within you.

The man just laughed, “You humans, always thinking the world revolves around you. I was surprised when Jinyoung brought you into his operation, though it was a little stupid, honestly. Why steal blood when there are billions of walking blood banks walking around the world? What’s really interesting though, Y/N, are his feelings for you.”

“Jinyoung and I are just friends,” you tried, to which the man just laughed. You felt the lump in your throat grow, you had a feeling you weren’t gonna make this out alive that easily.

“Oh, darling. Jinyoung loves you, in fact,” he started, smiling as his phone buzzed,” he just killed twelve of my men to come and find you. I didn’t get it at first, you are just an average human, not even that cute. But now that I have you here,” he paused, sliding a knife (that you had no idea when he grabbed) through your palm, “now that I can smell your blood, I know why.”

You tried to shimmy away from him, but there was nothing you could do as he licked the blood from your new cut.

“Why are you doing this?” You asked, tears starting to fall as his fangs started to dig into your wrist. “He’s gonna kill you!”

“Doll,” he smiled a sickeningly sweet smile, “When you’ve been alive for thousands of years, death is the best present you can get.”

Your fear increased with his words. If his goal was to be killed, he would have no care if you lived or died. In fact, you wouldn’t be shocked if he would kill you, just to piss Jinyoung off. You winced as his teeth dug deeper into your arm, his bloodthirsty moans filling the otherwise quiet room. He dropped your arm, blood running down his chin as he moved towards your neck.

“It’s time now doll,” he whispered, fangs touching your skin gently.

“Get the fuck away from her, Jimin.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, Jinyoung was here, Jinyoung was going to save you. You shuddered as you felt Jimin smile against the crux of your neck.

“It took you long enough, Jinyoung,” he whispered, grunting in pain as Jinyoung drove a stake through his heart.

You were pretty sure that the blood dripping from Jimin’s mouth was no longer yours, and instead his own. It was darker, almost black. It covered his chin and his neck. He winked at you, before closing his eyes, his breathing slowing. Jinyoung was quick to push him off of you, his body quickly going limp. You hadn’t realized how much blood you had lost until you noticed your vision fading. You knew Jinyoung was saying something to you, you could see his mouth moving, but your ears were ringing as he got you free and picked you up.

The next time you opened your eyes, you were in a strange bedroom. If the man sitting in the chair next to you was any indication of whose room you were in, then you knew you were ok. Jinyoung jumped up when he noticed your eyes had opened.

“Are you ok?” He hurried over, large hand caressing your face, “Can I get you anything?”

You looked away, tears filling your eyes, “Jinyoung…”

“Doll, why are you crying? What’s happening?”

You felt his other hand gently force your head back so that he could look into your eyes. ‘

“Jimin-” you started, Jinyoung immediately tensing at the mere mention of his name, “Why did he take me?”

Jinyoung looked away, and you were positive that had he been human, he would be blushing.

“You mean a lot to me, Y/N. More than you will ever know,” he smiled sadly.

“Will you please just tell me that you’re in love with me so that I can kiss your stupid face?” you groaned, a stray tear falling down your face. Jinyoung paused at your words, searching your face for any sign of joke. When he didn’t see one, he grinned, pressing his lips against your own.

He was the first to break away, a whine erupting from your throat at the lack of contact. This alone was enough for him to kiss you again. Deeper, and passionately. You felt his love, radiating from his cold body, your heart rate increasing as he ran his hands over your chest and down your sides.

“Someone’s excited,” he groaned, pressing a gentle kiss to your collarbone and resting his ear against the spot on your chest where your heart lay. “You have no idea how happy I am that I can hear this again. You’re ok.”

“I’m ok,” you whispered, breath hitching as he squeezed your chest. He helped you shimmy the white shirt that clad your body off and immediately dove into your breasts. He rolled one of your nipples between his finger, a moan escaping your mouth as he took the other into his mouth. You hadn’t seen Jinyoung this emotional, he was littering kisses on every part of your skin, placing more in the areas where Jimin’s bites lingered.

From your experience in the coven, you knew vampires didn’t like it when others bite what they think to be theirs. One of the reasons Bang Chan had been heavily reprimanded for attacking you was because Jinyoung had claimed you. You were his.

Your heart soared at the thought, and Jinyoung smirked against your chest, clearly reading your thoughts.

“Say it,” he growled, pressing a wet kiss against your abdomen and moving to your core.

“I’m yours, Jinyoung.”

He lost his composure then, eating your core like he was starved. Not that you were complaining. You couldn’t stay still, the pleasure multiplying from your core and warming your whole body.

Moan after moan spilled from your lips as Jinyoung brought you closer to the edge. You were begging him now, desperate to get your release. He ignored your pleas, pressing a final kiss on your clit before tearing his clothes off. He pumped his member a few times before pushing himself into your tight heat. You both groaned, Jinyoung sinking all the way into you. He let out a curse before he started moving, giving you only a second to adjust to him. The burn felt good and tickled at the knot that had been building before.

His pace was sloppy, probably due to the fact he hadn’t had sex in hundreds of years. However, he knew how to use his length. Maneuvering your legs to hit all of the spots that had you breathless. You were getting close again, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of the bite Jimin had left on your wrist.

“Jinyoung, bite me.”

Jinyoung’s eyes snapped open, his pace slowing as he looked at you incredulously, “There’s no way, you’ve lost so much blood.”

“Jinyoung, please,” you begged, your core tightening around his cock and causing him to groan, “I don’t want his marks to be the only thing on me.”

Jinyoung just pressed a kiss to your forehead, starting up his pace again. “No, doll. I promise I won’t be able to control myself when I know you are stronger.”

You just whined, but he pressed a warning kiss to your lips. You were both moaning into the kiss, and you weren’t sure how it happened, but you found yourself with a split lip. All of Jinyoung’s control was out of the window at the sight of your blood. His pace quickening as he licked your cut and into your mouth. At the taste of your blood, his eyes shifted into the red you had seen months ago in the hospital.

He hovered in the crook of your neck, whispering, “Are you sure you are ok with this?”

“God, please, Jinyoung.”

You came as his fangs punctured your sin. Jinyoung quickly licking up your spilling blood. You felt his cock twitch within you, but he was still desperately biting your chest and tasting your blood.

You knew he hadn’t bit very deep, because you were barely spilling any blood, but Jinyoung didn’t seem to care. He pressed soothing kisses everywhere he could reach. Whispering one word over and over.

“Mine.”

#jinyoung x reader #jinyoung smut #jinyoung angst #jinyoung fluff #vampire!jinyoung #jinyoung scenarios #jinyoung #got7 smut #got7 fluff #got7 angst #got7 scenarios #got7 #vampire got7 #got7 fanfic #jinyoung fanfic

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bitletsanddrabbles · 3 years

Text

WIP Wednesday: Dash it, Jeeves, which way’s the bedroom?

Given that I was just complaining about my inability to find a blue print to Highclere’s upper reaches, it seemed appropriate that today’s snippet be from one of the spots where I most wish I had one. And so we see Bertie Wooster, guest of Lord Grantham, enacting one of his most brilliant schemes ever despite the fact that Jeeves, his brain clearly starting to go at last, did not see it’s genius and advised against it.

Also, I think every writer should do at least one short piece in the style of Wodehouse at some point. It’s terribly fun.

Cut text because it’s rather long.

As I predicted, Horatio took one look at me, standing in front of his beloved with a carving knife, and leapt to the most dire conclusion. As I predicted, he swiftly moved to protect the delicate object of his affection. As Jeeves had predicted, I seemed to have underestimated the vehemence of his reaction. His face turned a decided aubergine colour. His mustache bristled. I couldn’t swear but that a couple puffs of smoke didn’t go billowing out his nose.

I took a step backward.

He took a step forward. He slowly extended his hands in the general direction of my neck.

I took another step, with him following. It should never be said that Woosters are cowards, but on the third step, me retreating and this lumbering beast coming after, something broke inside me. I dropped the carving knife and bolted. There was a bellow like an irate hippopotamus and the sound of footsteps behind me and I knew, without looking over my shoulder, that the chase, as they say, was on. The halls of Downton Abbey quickly took on the semblance of the Valley of Death and I, without making reply or reasoning why, charged through them. Someone had blundered, and that someone was Bertram.

“Now Horatio, I know what you’re thinking,” I tried to reason as I hastened myself down the gallery. “That can’t have looked very well at all.”

“I’m going to break your spine in five places and then beat you to jelly!” was the well reasoned response.

I decided to save my breath for running. Downton Abbey is a very squareish sort of building. The gallery runs around the periphery so that Horatio and I could have been running in circles, or more to the point squares, all night. Given the floor we were on, that didn’t seem preux to the gently nurtured guests, so when we reached the stairs, I transferred floors as smoothly as possible with the goal of reaching my own room, sequestering myself inside, and locking the door. Perhaps the Girton-Brattle menace would be more inclined to conversation if the option was breaking down a piece of solid oak. It was a sound enough plan, but there were two hitches. The first was that I lost some speed on the stairs, putting my neck in closer proximity to those iron bending hands. The second was that while trying to make up the lost time, I inadvertently turned the wrong direction upon reaching the bachelor’s quarters, thus charging away from my room, rather than towards. It occurred to me to try and correct, but the time I realized my mistake, my pursuer had reached the top of the stairs, so reversing course would have been to deliver myself to the jelly pot.

The next step, it seemed obvious, was to cast around for a hiding place. The problem there was that Horatio was so hot on my heels that he’d see where I had stowed myself and be after me like a dog with a ferret gone to ground. Also, while there were doors aplenty, I had no idea which rooms were occupied and one does not like to simply charge in on a chap while he’s relaxing for the night. As a last resort, I started to cast about for some sort of weapon. I somewhat regretted not holding on to the carving knife. On the other hand, that was a rather short range weapon and would have involved putting myself within grabbing distance, something I was eager to avoid. If I could have gotten in one of the rooms, a fire poker or something of the sort might have been acquired which would have done the trick. As a bonus, I likely could have hidden behind a door, giving me enough cover to spring from behind. I finally spotted a niche in the wall ahead, one of those places where decorations are put to make a place look a bit dressier and, if I remembered correctly, this one housed a vase. Not the ideal means of defense, naturally, but at least something I could lob at the thick skull with enough force to do some useful damage. I could only hope that the vase was not some priceless heirloom, rife with sentimental whatnot. One really does not want to go about breaking his host’s sentimental doodads, but this was an emergency.

I had almost reached my goal when there was a sort of thudding noise behind me and the air was coloured with some less than polite sentiment. Under the oath I thought I heard a polite, “Terribly sorry, sir,” but I didn’t stop to investigate until I had reached the aforementioned niche and was hoisting the previously noted vase that resided there in. Only then did I turn around to see what had transpired. Of course, having missed the actual incident, I had to do some guess work, but what I surmised was as follows:

As Horatio Girton-Brattle had come plummeting down the hallway, intent on Bertram’s demise, Mr. Barrow had stepped from one of the side rooms. In doing so, he had impeded Horatio’s forward momentum, either with a door or his body, in full or in part. Horatio, not thinking clearly, had been so incensed by the interruption, that he had given up his pursuit of yours truly and now had Barrow pinned to the door by his neck. The room beyond that door must have been occupied, because I was aware in a dimmish sort of way of banging from the interior and an indecipherable sort of yelling.

The truly surprising thing was how unperturbed Barrow seemed to be by the whole thing.

“Watch where you’re going, you miserable little worm!” Horatio’s loving words were clearly audible, even at a bit of a distance.

“Terribly sorry, sir,” Barrow repeated. He sounded neither agitated nor particularly sorry.

Apparently Horatio picked up on the lack of true sorrow. I’m not certain, but I think I heard the gnashing of teeth. “I should beat you to a jelly, tripping me like that.”

Now, a mere mortal would have quailed at the thought. There would have been stammerings and possibly pleadings. But apparently this Barrow was made of sterner stuff than most men, because all he said was, “I wish you wouldn’t, sir. It would make a mess of the hall rug.”

It is said that the best of men lead by example. That their good deeds and gallantry will inspire the lesser men. So it was in this case. The words of this butler among butlers inspired me to gather my courage. If he could face down a raging Girton-Brattle, then why not I? It helped that the confrontation had put Horatio with his back to me. It seemed but the work of a moment to retrace my steps and, with one swift motion, bring my weapon down upon the head of this fearsome specimen, hopefully with enough force to incapacitate him. The only cause for hesitation was, as before, the inevitable demise of the vase and my uncertainty as to it’s value. I had no great desire to be thrown out on my ear at this late hour.

My decision was made for me when a noise emitted from Horatio much like I would imagine a pipe explosion in a mechanics factory would sound. That it is to say it was loud, sort of whistling, and seemed to spell doom for any and all near the blast area. Unable to simply let Barrow stand there and be jellied after he had, purposefully or not, saved me, I started forward, vase raised. Fortunately for the vase, and possibly for Bertram, if I’d not managed to connect with enough force, before I arrived a very authoritative, most vexed voice demanded, “What on earth is going on here?”

I came screeching to a halt, the vase being instinctively tucked into a safe place under one arm. I had not immediately recognized the voice. It was familiar, but something about the tone made it so I couldn’t put a finger on the speaker. I was therefore somewhat surprised when Lord Grantham strode into view, his face set with righteous anger. At tea and dinner he’d looked like a mostly mild mannered sort of old boy, perfectly happy sipping his port and playing with the dog. I wouldn’t have imagined him to look quite so much as a big game hunter advancing on an elephant that’s had the poor sense to trample the lion he was hunting, particularly as he was wearing a dressing robe. A short way behind him was a tall, broadish looking chap with an odd gate that I soon realized was due to his leaning on a walking stick. This, I surmised, was Mr. Bates. Behind Mr. Bates shimmered the familiar and trusted form of Jeeves.

If all I had to write in this piece was Bertie’s PoV, I’d probably have finished by now, novel or not. Unfortunately it also requires Jeeves’s PoV which Wodehouse only wrote once and which is really rather slippery to get a hold of. But you need that upstairs, downstairs feel for it to be properly Downton...

#downton abbey #downton abbey fanfiction #wip wednesday #p.g. wodehouse #bertie wooster #thomas barrow #lord grantham #mr. bates #reginald jeeves #crossover #fan novel

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stefciastark · 3 years

Text

Metal Arm ~ Webpril Day 7

A/N: Here is Part 1 of what will be a 2 part mini-story. Doombots threaten Manhattan, but with a significantly reduced team and some bad luck, things don't go so smoothly for Peter. It only briefly touches on the 'metal arm' prompt, but this is also inspired by a request from Hannah on AO3 to write a bit of 'post-battle injured Peter hides his injury and won't admit anything is wrong.' I'm really excited to write Part 2 tomorrow, had a lot of fun writing this first part!

~Read on AO3

~Read on FFN

Peter had never really been strangled, yet today it had happened not twice, not thrice, but it was bordering on his fourth time being on the receiving end of a chokehold. The Doombot cutting off his air circulation ended up being at the wrong place at the wrong time however, as three out of its four limbs were obliterated and sent to mecha-heaven. All except the one heavily bicep-ed metal arm that clung to his throat like shit to a shovel.

“Get. OFF,” he gritted through his teeth, tearing the appendage off of his throat and tossing what was now just a torso, head and forelimb onto the growing pile of Doom scrap metal.

He had to take a breather for a moment and remind himself that these were robots and not real people. Despite how convinced their A.Is were that they were in fact the real Doctor Doom, their suicide missions were nothing more than a result of malevolent - albeit skilled - programming.

“You good, kid?” The Ironman suit hovered a few feet away from Peter, appearing to dance slightly in the air as Peter’s brain started playing ‘catchup’ with oxygen. He felt himself nodding in response, muting his comms momentarily so that what was present of the Avengers wouldn’t hear his breathing; he was pretty sure the exhaust pipe on the old Vauxhall Cavalier his uncle used to own sounded healthier.

The team was small today; Thor was offworld, Bruce didn’t feel like having another near miss after almost levelling another city during an incident the week prior near Seattle, and Clint was - as Tony put it - too busy ‘playing house’ in the country. That left Tony, Peter, and Natasha Romanoff on the mission. Peter was unsure whether to call her Nat, Romanoff, or use her Black Widow alias, and instead anxiously settled for using none of the above and simply avoided using any moniker to address her whatsoever. It had worked out for him well so far.

While it was by no means a three person job, they would have to make do, and so far, they were making...something happen. The showdown had initially begun in Hell’s Kitchen and was progressively and concerningly migrating towards the Lower East Side. The closer the action got to the east side of Manhattan, the closer it got to Brooklyn, and the closer it got to Brooklyn, the more there was a chance of the threat moving to Queens, and Peter wanted to keep the rough and tumble away from his neck of the woods if he could. So far they had left in their wake twelve office buildings turned to rubble, eleven burst sewer pipes, and at least ten separate fires that he was pretty sure were still burning. All they needed now were nine civilian casualties and they were almost halfway to rewriting ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’.

Tony didn’t have time to follow up with Peter’s uncharacteristic lack of a verbal response as two Doombots that had split from the herd attached themselves to the red and gold armour, their green capes combining with the suit to make a metallic caricature of a Christmas tree. Tony had a whole three seconds of warning before their self-destruct protocols were activated, and everything within a 300-foot radius erupted in a shower of rubble, flames, and smoke.

The suit - for the most part - diminished Tony’s impact with the building adjacent to the Tenement Museum. Peter didn’t quite have the luxury of inches-thick armour, and as he sailed diagonally across Delancey St through the glass window of Double Chicken Please, he made a personal vow to make them his new go-to fried chicken joint as a form of apology.

“Stark, was that you?” Nat (Peter decided that was the name he felt most comfortable with) queried over the comms, the distant sound of shots being fired and the purring motorcycle beneath her leaking into the background.

A stream of expletives from the man in question poured in through his suit’s speakers. Peter found it funny that if it were anyone but Tony in any other situation other than their current predicament, the frankly obscene amounts of swearing would be concerning.

“How many left on your end, Rushman?” There was a groan and the uncomfortably familiar sound of shifting rubble. “I think we’ve just about wrapped up here.”

Peter had been working on gently extricating himself from where he lay in a supine position behind the bar, struggling to hold onto consciousness through a haze of pain. The wall between Double Chicken Please and Subway had collapsed, half of it inconsiderately laying across his chest. He noted wryly that he didn’t expect himself to be battling unconsciousness behind a bar until he was at least twenty-one, yet here he was, five years too early.

A large bang went off from what sounded like only a block away, which was then followed by a moment of complete and utter stillness.

“I think our last guests just left the party,” offered as an explanation from Nat, finally breaking the silence.

“Don’t you hate it when you have company and they don’t even offer to help clean up? I am sickened by the youth of today.” Tony had managed to disentangle himself from what could now barely be called a building. The engineer was able to identify the date of manufacture on the most recent wave of Doombots - they were only three months old. “Speaking of, Spiderling, let’s get this cleaned up. I have a date with takeaway and my favourite sweatpants waiting for me at home.”

“Try not to wreck any more buildings while I’m gone, boys,” Nat said, immediately beginning her commute to the Avengers facility.

Natasha had become the face of the Avengers during the inevitable PR followups that seemed to accompany any and every brush with threat since the Chitauri attack on New York. She was level-headed and presented well, and so far had the least amount of tallies on the “PR Fuck-ups” chart that hung in the communal kitchen in place of a calendar. It was the team’s personal inside joke that S.H.I.E.L.D didn’t approve of, which of course made them double down their efforts if it meant ruffling Nick Fury’s feathers.

“Try not to wreck my public image, it’s what funds those luxury bath bombs you keep ordering,” Tony shot back, no venom in his teasing words.

Peter was otherwise occupied during his teammates’ little exchange. He had his arms arranged in an upside down tricep pushup position, palms pressing against the sizable concrete slab that occupied the space from his waist to his sternum. As he lifted the offending cement off of him, he very nearly dropped it back down as the air rushed out of his lungs. Something in his chest shifted sickeningly, followed by a stabbing pain that burned everything from his ribs to his airways. Failure never an option, he persevered, relieved when the hunk of wall finally slid gracelessly down the pile of debris.

He thought having a literal chunk of concrete off his chest would feel better.

“Pete?” His name was said with such a mixture of impatience, exhaustion, and concern that Peter found his nerves standing on red alert. This would be the first hour of many on cleanup duties

Taking a wavering breath, afraid to breathe too deeply, he steadied his voice and activated his comms. “Sure thing Mr Stark, on my way!”

Peter winced; he definitely overdid it on the enthusiasm. With every step he took his discomfort grew until the pain from his chest radiated down to his hips and he had to stop himself from hunching over and limping his way back to the Delancey St intersection. There were only two of them now, a whole lot of city to tidy up, and not a whole lot of time to spend fussing over what was probably just some deep tissue bruising. Plus, this was his first call to action since July, and it was now approaching the end of November.

Bracing himself for the amount of suckthe next few hours would entail, he gritted his teeth against the throbbing that rolled like waves from deep within his chest, and prepared to put on his best Oscar-worthy performance he’d titled: “I’m Fine - A Teenager’s Pledge”.

There was no way he was going to let Tony down.

A/N: There we have it! Things didn't go so smoothly for Peter, and I know he has superior healing and all but this poor boy needs some more safety built into his suit. Tomorrow will be the Part 2 fill for this mini-story, so check back in for the concluding part :) Thank you for all your continued support, kudos, and comments. Please feel free to send any fic requests into my Asks! Sending hugs to you all <3

#webpril day 7 #webpril 2021 #irondad fanfiction #marvel #mcu fanfiction #peter parker fanfiction #tony stark fanfiction #peter parker whump #whump fic #h/c fanfiction #h/c #fanfiction #writing prompt #writing challenge #webpril

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commorsicoclub · 4 years

Text

The Commorisco Club (3)

If you were waiting for the real vore to begin, here it is people.

Soft, unwilling, male pred, male prey, belly bulges, teasing, fear play and brief mentioning of peanut allergies.

Chapter three: The Waiting Game

Archeon left them to contemplate their new roles with a promise that food would soon be delivered to them to aid in their recovery. Just before closing the door shut, he paused and peered at them through the crack, his red eyes glimmering with want. “Rest well, morsels.”

Once the teal door had shut closed and they were sealed inside, the velvet drapes fell again and they were left alone.

“If we don’t eat then we won’t get our strength back,” Michael said in a hushed whisper. “And then they won’t eat us.”

“You think that’s really gonna stop them?” James asked, irritated and angry. “That the big-fucking-giant-demon-monster things won’t just get pissed and eat us anyway?”

“We have to eat eventually,” Erin added despondently. She pressed the back of her head against the velvet covered wall. “And what’s the point in playing hunger strike chicken with those things? James is right. They’d just wolf us down anyway.”

“What are we going to do?” Valarie said, her voice trembling. “I-I don’t want to be eaten again...”

“Yeah, fuck that!” Michael said, disregarding his previous volume. “Neither do I!”

“No one does,” James said as he tried to crawl on his hands and knees back to one of the cushions and having a difficult time doing it. “If the plan is escape, we can’t when were all like this...”

“But by the time we’re better, they’re gonna be ready for suppertime!” Michael whined. “What are we supposed to do?”

Erin copied James and began to make the slow crawl back to her cushion. She was so tired and her head hurt and all she wanted was to sleep. By the time she made it to her velvet covered bed, she was crying. She heard the others still talking and their voices were raising and it sounded like James and Michael were arguing. She curled up, wishing she had the covers from her bed back in her dorm room. The room was not cold, but she missed the feeling of the soft cotton against her skin.

I have a math exam I need to study for, she thought inanely. It did not matter now, she supposed. Anything. There was nothing for them to do but wait. Wait for the demons to return, for them to grab them all up, and swallow them down again. She could almost feel the slime covered walls of the thing’s belly and she shuddered at the memory and forcibly shutting it down.

Eventually everyone became silent and she could hear their measured breathing as they all slept. But she remained awake. Despite the bone deep fatigue and the absolute desire to sleep...she couldn’t. Insomnia was not a new experience for her, but it was never this bad. If she had trouble sleeping she would normally go to the college’s 24 hour gym and run a mile or two so she could wear herself and her brain out enough to sleep. But now…she couldn’t even stand.

There was no concept of time in the room and it did not seem long at all after everyone had fallen asleep that the sound of the curtains pulling away could be heard. She sat up abruptly, her heart in her throat and every muscle tensed as she watched the door, waiting for it to swing open. Instead, a secondary and much smaller door set into the wood opened up – almost like a doggy door – and a squat and fat toad like demon waddled inside. It didn’t seem to have a neck, just a wide flat head that immediately attached to a rotund wide body all supported on stick thin legs and long flat feet. It had large yellow eyes draped with bumpy eyelids and stared ahead almost listlessly. It looked nothing like the other demons, there was nothing humanoid about him aside from being bipedal.

“Need to be opennin’ yur peepers, Meat,” it said in a low craggy voice, making its way closer to the cloister of humans with ambling steps. His wide flat feet making slapping sounds on the ground. “Master says I bring ya’s food so’s ya ready fer th’ eatin’. So’s foods I got.”

It’s lip-less mouth stretched alarmingly wide and it tilted it’s head back, revealing rows and rows of serrated teeth and a dark throat. Erin screamed and jolted the others awake and upon seeing the mud colored demon with its mouth agape and it’s hideous teeth, they too began to scream. The drama student who had passed out during Archeon’s vist sat bolt upright with a panicked cry and then looked around confused. Upon seeing the toad demon, his screams of panic joined the others.

The ugly toad hunkered down and with a disgusting squelching sound, regurgitated a metal box that shot up into the air and landed in between the cushions that James and Valarie were occupying.

“Oh my god, that is disgusting!” Valarie shrieked, inching away from slime covered thing.

“What the ever loving fuck is that?” Michael demanded. Whether he was referring to the toad demon or the box was unknown, but both seemed to upset him in equal measure.

The demon closed it’s mouth, sealing away its many teeth. “Likes I says: Master says I bring ya’s food so’s ya ready fer th’ eatin’.”

“Get the fuck away from us!” James yelled before falling off the back edge of his cushion and floundering to right himself.

“If you even think about trying to eat me,” Michael wailed. “I will kick you in your fucking demon nads!”

The toad demon did not seem to care how the humans around him were reacting and his yellow eyes did not seem to be focusing on anything in particular and seemed quite board. “Meat is all a hoolerin’ an’ a hollerin’ fer nothin’. Master says I ain’t supose t’ gobble ya’s ‘cause ya’s special no eatin’ meats. Says he’d be gobblin’ me if I’s be gobblin’ any of ya’s.”

“You mean Archeon?” Erin asked warily, eyeing the box. “Is...is he your master?”

“No’s!” said the toad in the first showing any real emotion. It looked almost insulted. “Archeon no master a’ nothin’. Master Rolland be master a’ Gobbler.”

“...G-Gobbler?” the drama student asked. He was pale and shivering.

“Gobbler is be me,” the toad grumbled as it turned back towards the door and began to waddle away, mumbling in displeasure. “Stupid meats not know nothin’. Archeon no master ‘a Gobbler...”

The smaller door shut with a bang and the draped fell back to their places.

“What...what the hell is going on?” the drama student asked. “Where’s the other guy? D-did….di I get eaten again?”

“No, you just kind of fainted,” James said. “And that...thing apparently was Gobbler. Archeon left a while ago.”

“...A-Archeon?”

“Big guy with horns,” Erin said. “You kind of missed introductions.”

Michael was crawling towards the regurgitated box, his face a mixture of disgust and curiosity. It was a munitions box with faded Chinese writing on the side. He reached out to try and flip the latch open, but pulled his hand back in revulsion as a thick cord of Gobbler spit draped from his hand back to the box. Michael began to fervently wipe his hand against James’s cushion.

“Augh! Gross, man!” James whined.

Michael ignored him and tried once more, using the tips of his fingers to finally flip the latch. It popped open easily and out spilled an impressive amount of prepackaged sandwiches. Despite the saliva and goo covered crate, the packages inside were untouched.

“Did that guy just swallow everything at a 7-11 or something?” James asked, reaching out to grab one of the sandwiches. He tiled the black plastic to read the label and then dropped it. “Ew, tuna.”

Erin slowly stood up, her legs only feeling slightly wobbly, and walked over to examine the pile herself. The others were doing something similar. She picked one up, a ham and cheese on wheat, and looked at the label. “They’re not even expired.”

“Seriously,” the drama student was saying. “We’re dead right? This...this is all bonkers.”

“I don’t know anything anymore,” Valarie said, pealing the plastic apart and tucking into a roast beef. She took a large bite and chewed methodically, tears starting to drip off her chin. “I’m so fucking scared and I’m tired and my head hurts and I’m so hungry...”

The drama student was picking idly through the offerings. “Anyone see any that says allergen free?”

“Why? You allergic to gluten or something?” Michael asked mockingly with his mouth full.

“No, just peanuts. I mean, so long as I don’t eat one I’m fine, but I don’t have my inhaler so if I have a bad reaction I’ll just die.”

Michael had the decency to look shame faced.

“Here,” James said, tossing a green plastic package over to the drama student. “It says allergen free on it.”

The drama student looked down at the label and shrugged tiredly. “Oh well. I guess beggars can’t be choosers...”

Michael was unwrapping a second sandwich, looking around their prison in idle fascination. “You know what?” he asked. “This room kinda looks like a stomach...”

Everyone froze mid-chew to take a moment to look about. After swallowing, they all looked at the remains of their sandwiches, appetites suddenly lost.

“Hey, blue hoodie kid,” James asked. “What’s your name?”

The drama student raised his eyes brows. “Huh? Oh, I’m Danny.”

“I’m James.”

“Michael.”

“Valarie.”

“Erin.”

“Just warning you Danny,” Michael added, his appetite abruptly revived as he took another bite. “Since we didn’t know your name at the time, Archeon said he was just gonna call you Snack.”

Danny scowled and averted his eyes and took a few moments to pick at the wilted lettuce in his sandwich. They ate in silence. Erin felt like she had a good idea of where their minds were at. She could already tell her energy was returning and now that they had food...well It was almost a matter of time now, she supposed. Feeling as though a great big clock hung over all their heads, counting down, they spent the next half hour eating their fill and waiting.

Waiting for the demons to come have their lunch...

…………………………………..

Only Erin and Danny were still awake. The others were quietly snoozing with Michael every so often making a loud snort and rolling over.

“Can’t sleep?” Danny asked her.

She shook her head. “Insomnia.”

“Pre-existing condition or newly acquired?”

Erin felt her face crack into a sardonic smile. “I’ve had it for a few years.”

Danny nodded, staring off into space. “How long do you think it’ll take? For them to come back.”

“Don’t know,” she replied with a sigh. “Archeon said they won’t come to feed on us until we’ve got all our strength back. I wonder how they can tell.”

“Maybe the can smell it,” Danny offered. A thunderous snore from Michael drew his attention and he added, “All I smell is bologna and Michael’s feet.”

Erin cracked another smile. She was beginning to really like Danny. Away from Archeon, he was witty and sweet. Not a whimpering mess that fainted when a giant demon flashed his teeth at him. Though she was sure she was no better. Like her, he was petite for their age, hitting their last real growth spurt before their metabolism could adjust. His blue hoodie was two sizes too big and he had his arms and legs tucked inside.

“If they just suck our energy,” he wondered aloud. “Why do they have to swallow us to do it?”

“Archeon said that’s how it’s done,” she replied, his words echoing in her head. In order for us to ingest your energy, we need to ingest you. She felt a shiver down her spine and the two sandwiches she had eaten sat heavily in her stomach.

“Archeon,” Danny said, the word seemed to quiver on his lips. “He...he’s the guy that ate me, right? So what about the others?”

“He never told us their names,” she replied. “But Gobbler said Rolland was his master. I suppose he’s one of them.”

“Gee, I wonder which of us is the luck meal,” he said sarcastically and then winced. “Ah, ignore me. The weird part of my brain’s kicking in. When I’m nervous I start saying stupid shit.”

“It’s alright,” she said and offered him a grateful smile. “I appreciate the attempt to lighten the mood.”

“So, what major are you?” he asked.

“Biology,” Erin replied and seeing the expression on Danny’s face, added, “It’s OK to laugh.”

“No,” he mumbled, biting his lips in an attempt to quell his amused grin. “I’m good.”

She shook her head. “You’re in the drama department right? Are you a theater major?”

“Nah,” he answered, pulling his arms and legs from his hoodie and standing up to stretch. “Music major. I’m in the orchestra that does all the theater department shows.”

She blinked in surprise and found herself smiling. “Oh really? What do you play?”

“I’m first chair guitar,” he said. “But I play a bunch of other stringed instruments.”

“Too bad you don’t have one with you here,” she said. “Some music sounds really nice right now.”

“When Valarie wakes up we might convince her to sing,” Danny said. “I’m pretty sure she’s a music major too. Vocals. I’m bad with faces since I spend most of the shows in the pit, but I think I remember her playing Fatine in last semester’s Les Miz production.”

She nodded and sighed.

“Man, I miss my ipod,” Erin lamented. “And my bed and blanket.”

“I miss not having to wait for a monster to come and eat me,” Danny said flatly. “It’s like all your worse nightmares from when you were a kid. Except real.”

Erin froze as the velvet drapes began to rustle and pull away. The teal door was already opening and in the blackness of the beyond, peered two glowing red eyes. Her mouth fell open and she flapped her hand at Danny in warning, unable to form words. He looked at her bizarrely and then understanding hit. He whirled around just as Archeon stepped into the room, his eyes glowing with hunger and teeth bared from behind grinning lips. His long coat was gone and he was rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, jeweled fingers catching the light of the orb above them and sending small flecks of diffused light bounces around the walls. “Snack time, boy.”

“Fuck!” Danny said, scrambling to try and make a run to the covering of the metal shelf, but he floundered and slipped on the plush cushion. Archeon easily stepped over the other sleeping humans to reach down and sweep a many ringed hand under to catch Danny around his middle just as he was about to face plant onto the floor. He was lifted up easily and he began to struggle and yell. The commotion had alerted the others and bleary eyes snapped open and they started scrambling back away from the demon, crying out in alarm. Archeon ignored them all, devoting his attention to his squirming prey as he dangled Danny above his face. The demon licked his lips idly and hummed in anticipation.

“I’ve had you on my mind all day, Snack,” he purred, lowering his hand just enough to flick his tongue out to give Danny’s feet a quick sampling. Danny pulled his feet away as best he could, but there was no where to go where the demon’s seeking tongue could not easily reach him. “The taste of you. The feel of you wiggling on my tongue. The delicious squirms as you settle in my belly...”

To emphasis this, he patted his stomach.

“Fuck!” Danny whined, trying again to keep his feet out of Archeon’s mouth. “Let go of me, man!”

“Heh heh. No,” Archeon replied with a grin and turned back towards the teal door. “You’re mine for the next few hours, Snack.”

From her spot under the overhang, Erin could see Danny still struggling in the large demon’s grip and could only watch and cry out for her friend as Archeon prepared to devour him for a second time. With a dark chuckled, the demon pulled the human closer. “In you go...”

Great jaws parted and threads of saliva hung from sharp teeth as Danny was thrust into the open maw.

“NO! Don’t do it! Don’t – mmph!” His cries were cut off as Archeon practically stuffed the boy inside, his hand pulling away as his lips pressed around Danny’s middle to leave his legs to kick and flail freely. His great horned head titled back and he opened his jaws again, Danny’s frightened cries becoming more audible for all of one moment before the Demon used his tongue to lift and pull more of his meal into his mouth. Just as the teal door closed, Erin heard the throaty chuckle and then a gulp. The door closed, the velvet drapes fell back, and Danny was gone. They were left alone with one of their number gone, on his way down to Archeon’s belly.

………………………………………

The next demon came only a few minutes after Archeon left. No one had moved or said anything as they waited, huddled close under the metal shelf. It was no real protection, but it felt safer than being out in the open. When the drapes pulled back again, everyone tensed up, sucking in shuddering breaths, and trembling.

The door opened and a new demon entered. Her skin was a shade of blushing pink and long white hair fell down around her shoulders and two bone white opalescent horns poked out from atop her head and curled around like a ram’s. He eyes were a brilliant deep blue and like Archeon before her, they glowed with clear predatory hunger. A large blood red jewel was set into a choker around her neck and she wore a short white blouse that exposed her flat belly and form fitting black pants that showed of her elegant curves.

“Hello,” she said, her voice sultry and disarming. “Poor little humans, you look so frightened.”

She knelt down and crawled on her hands and knees towards them, her head swaying back and forth like a snake, but her eyes never left the form of one particular human. Michael looked ready to bolt at any moment, suddenly finding himself face to face with the demon who had swallowed him once before.

“Don’t worry, though,” she said to Michael, shoulders hunching to make her breasts push out and she stared at him in a coy and flirtatious manner. “I don’t bite.”

“It’s not your bite that I’m worried about!” Michael squeaked.

Her eyes seemed to sparkle with amusement. “No? Oh you don’t mean that you don’t want me to eat you, little man?”

“Yes! Yes, that very much, please!”

“Oh, but I’m not so bad,” she said, pressing closer still and using her hands to cut Michael off from escape. Her fingers traced along his chest in teasing circles. “I’ll be much gentler this time. And I’m oh so soft inside, I think you’ll find my tummy to be very cozy.”

“FAT CHANCE OF THAT LADY!” Michael was wild with hysteria and as he tried to run, her fingers wrapped around him. “Oh sweet Jesus!”

“But you look so yummy,” she purred, pulling him closer to her face where she nuzzled him. “You smell good too. I was so happy when we met the other night. You made me feel so good. Fuller than any of those lower ghouls ever did. I want that feeling again. Of you inside me, wiggling. I want to taste you...” her tongue slipped out and drew a slimy line down the side of Michael’s face. “Mmmm…oh you’re as delicious as I remember.”

Michael was incoherent in his panicked ramblings and could do no more than fruitlessly struggle. He was not a small guy and the Demoness seemed to have no trouble at all keeping a firm handle on him.

“Be good for me, darling,” she whispered to him. “I’ll make this quick.”

Her mouth opened wide and in Michael went, her saliva coated tongue peeking out the sides of her mouth as she tasted him with open relish. She kept a firm grip on Michael’s legs and made her first swallow. He sank into her gullet and before he could react, she swallowed again. It only took her four swallows to down all of the broad shouldered athlete and the captive and horrified audience watched as her smooth flat middle sank with her meal’s weight. It began to jiggle and sway as Michael made his protests known. She pressed a hand to her belly and sighed in delight, eyes closing as she concentrated on the delicious feeling of live, wiggling prey. “There we are, my little human. Nice and cozy, like I promised.”

She carefully stood up, one hand cradling her stomach and she licked the fingers of her other hand. “It’s no wonder you humans are so prized. Your flavor is divine.”

“You’re monsters,” Valarie sobbed, covering her face.

The Demoness tuned her head to look at the girl and she smiled sweetly, licking her lips. “And you’re yummy.”

With an energetic sway of her hips, the Demoness sauntered back to the teal door. She stopped and turned back to the remaining humans.

“Oh! And I’m Lyra by the way. Forgot to introduce myself. Forgive me, I can never recall my manners when I’m famished,” she said, both hands leisurely petting her bulging belly, seeming to relish each kick or jerk of her meal. “Egan should be paying you all a visit shortly. Ta-ta!”

The door closed, the velvet drapes fell, and then they were three.

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heathsbitch · 5 years

Text

365 DAYS - b.b*

A/N: This is from my Marvel Imagines book on Wattpad. (My Wattpad @ is in my bio. Pls check it out, I need friends.) This is one of my oldest imagines and I’ll be honest, it’s a bit shit and some things are inaccurate because I wrote this before Infinity War. It was also originally in two parts but I thought it’d be better if I combined them for Tumblr. But, nevertheless, enjoy...

Requested: No

Scenario: You were kidnapped by some supposed HYDRA agents a year ago. You were just starting to lose hope in escaping when a certain team of heroes come to your rescue.

Warnings: Smut, strong language, unprotected sex

365. I dropped the knife and took a step back from the wall. 365 marks were etched into it's surface. Every mark represented one day. It was 365 days ago that HYDRA had pried me from the precious confines of my home.

They claimed that I knew information of the whereabouts of the infamous 'Winter Soldier'. They told me that they wanted to use him, that he was one small piece in a huge puzzle. One part of a plan that would take man's one weakness away, freedom.

Of course I knew nothing about him, and nobody had even realized that I was gone. I didn't know how they found out who I was and why they thought I knew 'The Winter Soldier'. The only encounter I had ever had with him was 3 years ago. And even then, I had only saw him from a distance.

I saw him being chased by a person in a black suit that had silver etchings on it. But here I still was, in a dark and damp cell. The only light emanated from the minuscule window in the door. I sat down and lent against the boring grey wall and started to think that nobody was coming for me.

Scorching hot tears slipped out of my eyes and began to drip down my face; all of my hope went with it. I had finally lost my battle with myself. The fact sunk into my head and the pace of my tears started to quicken. I realized I was going to be stuck in here for the rest of my days. My head dropped and it fell into my hands.

Bang! Bang! Two thuds thundered through the room causing shock to course through me. My legs stiffened as I stood up. Bang! Bang! Two more thuds bounced through the room. I began to walk backwards until my back hit the far wall.

The door burst open and two tall men walked through into my cell. One was clad in a black suit that looked like a cat, similar to the one I saw chasing The Winter Soldier, and the other in a blue costume. The one in the blue suit walked over to me "Y/N Y/L/N? Is that your name?" I nodded my head and tried to speak.

"How do you know my name? Who are you?" My voice came out a more of a croak after not drinking for at least 24 hours. The man in the black costume stepped forward "We'll explain once we get you back to Wakanda."

His accent sounded a little strange. Maybe he was African? My head spun, who were these people? What did they want with me? What was this Wakanda that they spoke of? Was I finally getting rescued? My body went limp and dropped to the floor, strong arms cradled me and caught me before I could hit it. My vision darkened and I fell into a black abyss.

BACK IN WAKANDA

I opened my eyes and light flooded my senses. I shifted in my bed. Wait, bed? How and why was in a bed? My gaze drifted around the room, taking in it's decor. There was a small bed, a wooden desk and chair, a couple of shelves and a dresser with a mirror hung above it.

I sat up and the door to the simplistic room quietly opened. A man with dark skin waltzed in and took a seat at the desk. "Wow, we thought you were dead. No offence. You were asleep for four or five days." The news hit me like a truck but it wasn't too surprising, I hadn't been in a bed for a long time.

"I am sure you have a lot of questions but, I'm going to ask you to keep them to yourself. Only for a little bit longer. Somebody will come in here soon with some food and then they will take you to my throne room. Then, and only then, you can ask me and my friends as many questions as you want." The words sunk into my brain.

"Is that okay with you?" I nodded. I figured it would be better to comply than fight back. After all, they gave me a bed and they're giving me food soon. The woman with the food came in roughly ten minutes after the other man left. She brought me a bowl, of what I assumed was rice, and a glass of water.

"You have thirty minutes to eat and regain your strength before I take you to the throne room. My name is Shuri. What's yours?" I smiled and replied "Y/N." Shuri and I talked and laughed for the next thirty minutes. I felt like we were slowly becoming friends. She led me out of my room when it was time to meet the man from before.

I was guided into a room with a glass floor and a throne in the center. Eight chairs were aligned in a circle around the throne. In the throne sat the dark skinned man. The other person who helped rescue me sat to his left in one of the eight chairs.

The girl who took me here, Shuri, took the empty seat to the right of the throne. Six out of the eight chairs were occupied. In the seat next to one of my rescuers was another dark skinned man with a little bit of facial hair, to his right, a girl with bright eyes and brown hair.

On the other side of the throne, next to Shuri, was a muscular man with long hair and what looked like the start of a beard. He was quite handsome actually. His face provoked a sense of familiarity in me, but I shook it off. To his left, another white man. His hair was turning grey and his body was rather small. I approached the throne.

"My name is T'Challa Udaku. I am the king of Wakanda, the country you find yourself in. We rescued you from the so called HYDRA agents because we believe that you could be a valuable asset to us. If you have any questions, ask them. We will do our best to answer." I thought over my questions in my head before speaking up "How am I valuable to you?"

The King looked at the floor before looking over to the man who was previously wearing the blue costume "We believe you to be one of the enhanced." Confusion rippled through me "Enhanced? What's that?" I asked "They are people who have have parts of their body's amplified. For example Wanda,"

He pointed to the woman with brown hair "She is an enhanced person. She has telekinesis and can control people's minds," He hesitated before continuing "Her brother, he um... he was one too. He had a higher metabolism which made him run really fast. Faster than any human being alive." I nodded, processing their words. "Do you know what my power is?"

"We believe it to be similar to Wanda's but only the telekinesis part. We also think that you can shape shift." Again, confusion coursed through me and my heart-rate quickened "How do you know this? When did this happen to me?"

The man with long hair stood up and walked over to me "When you were with HYDRA, in that room, what happened?"

"Not much, people would slide food through the small hatch at the bottom of the door one or two times a day. Sometimes people would come in and beat me up and ask questions, but that's it." The men all looked at each other before the one in front of me continued.

"When we came to rescue you, we looked at the security camera footage to find where you were. We saw you using your powers in your room. We also saw you getting experimented on. Do you not remember any of this?"

I shook my head "No. I had dreams that I would get experimented on but I thought that was just me being paranoid. I swear I don't remember anything else. Anyway, why did you guys come looking for me?" The other dark skinned man answered my question this time, "Over the past few weeks we've been trying to track down the remaining workers for HYDRA, I assume you know who they are?"

"Roughly, yeah." I replied. He continued "Well, we found out that three old HYDRA scientists were looking for a girl, around 25 years old, to test some things on. That's you. We immediately tried to save you from being captured. Obviously we couldn't get there in time and we didn't get close enough to start tracking them. After almost a year, we heard about HYDRA gaining a new 'secret weapon'. Something they could use to get revenge on us and fulfill HYDRA's main goal. We tracked them back to the place that Bucky was held in when he was The Winter Soldier,"

He pointed at the tall man to my right "Wait! You're the Winter Soldier?" I interrupted "Yeah. Well, at least I was when I was with HYDRA." My eyes widened in shock, I knew he looked familiar, "The people told me they were looking for you. They thought I knew where you were."

"That would've just been a cover-up for what they were actually doing to you." Bucky reassured. "Can I continue now?" The man who was speaking before said "Sure, Sam." Bucky told him "Anyway, they took you to where they used to hold Bucky. They took you to Siberia. The place was still battered from a certain fight between two superheroes."

He looked at the man with the blue suit, "But they made it work. We broke in and rescued you, because that's our job. And Bucky didn't want another person going through what he went through when he was there." I smiled at Bucky to show him that I was thankful for what he helped do. "Is that all of your questions answered now?" T'Challa asked.

"Yes, for now I think." Everybody went back to their seats and the King began to speak again "Something is going to happen, something big. Something that none of us can prevent. It is going to affect the entire world if we do not stop it. We are going to need as much help as we can get. We would like you to join us in this fight, if that's okay with you."

Once again, shock ran through me "I'll help you. It's the only way I can repay you guys for what you've done to help me. After all, that's what you helped me for. But, I'll only help you if you tell me who I'm fighting and what's going to happen."

Everybody in the room looked towards me and Bucky took a step forward. "His name is Thanos. And he's looking for six gems called Infinity Stones."

A COUPLE OF WEEKS LATER

It's been around three weeks since I've been saved. In that time, I've grown quite close to all of my rescuers, especially Bucky. Steve has told me more information on Thanos and what he wants. He thinks that Thanos is going to spring an attack on Wakanda in the next couple of days.

Along with the information, Steve and his friends have also been teaching me how to fight. Natasha, an ex-assassin I had found out, had taught me a few tricks that she had learnt in a place called 'The Red Room'.

I didn't want to ask anymore questions about that because it looked like it hurt her whenever she mentioned it. Yesterday was a particularly interesting training session, however. I was told that Bucky would be teaching me a few things. My feet tapped the floor as I walked into the gym. Steve, Nat, Sam, T'Challa, Bucky and Wanda were all training in their respective areas.

"Hey guys!" My voice echoed around the room. "Heyy," Nat sauntered over to me. We had become fairly good friends in the past weeks. I told her everything. She told me as much as she was comfortable with, which was quite a lot actually.

But, I had also told her something about Bucky. I didn't know I felt that way about him and i'm still not sure if what I said was actually the truth. I had told Nat that I liked him. Not just liked him but like liked him. Not gonna lie though, he was amazingly handsome and looked like he had been sculpted by the gods.

Whenever I was around Bucky with Nat she would always slyly tease me about it. And she knew that we were sparring together today. I walked over to the small-ish fighting ring in the center of the room. Bucky joined me shortly.

"You ready?" He asked and I responded with a small nod "I'll go easy on you at first." My heart rate started to quicken as nerves shot through me. He raised his fists into a fighting stance and got ready to fight. I reflected his stance and let out a steady breath. His metal arm shined in the light of the room. 'Could that be a kink?' I thought to myself.

Everybody crowded round the ring and began cheering us on. Words of encouragement rang through my ears and a smirk slid onto my face. Confidence dripped into my veins as I took my first swing. My right fist swung towards Bucky's face.

He ducked just in time to miss it. His right arm connected with my stomach and a grunt fell out of my lips. He pushed me backwards and I regained my stance. I lifted my leg up to his waist just as he was about to take another hit on me. It hit him and he stumbled back. Another smirk made it's way onto my face.

An idea popped into my head.

As Bucky prepared his next attack, I ran up to him. I lifted my leg up to his knee, stood on it, wrapped my legs around his head and swung my body around him. He hit the floor, his head still in between my legs. "Yeah Y/N!" I heard Natasha shout "That's my girl!" Sam yelled. I giggled and Bucky growled. I unraveled my legs from around Bucky's neck and sat up. He chuckled to himself.

"I see Nat's been teaching you a few things. Good job." A blush crept onto my face as he complimented me. He smirked, "Ready for round two?" Bucky's gruff voice rang through my ears. I nodded, smirking with confidence. We swung a of couple punches and kicks at each other but this time he beat me. I lunged for him, my right fist aiming for his jaw, 'Oh my goodness that jaw could cut me and I'd thank him', but he caught it.

The super soldier twisted my arm around and pulled me back into his chest. My back was pressed hard against his front, my arms restrained behind me. Bucky leaned down so his lips were next to my ear.

"Better luck next time, princess." He whispered. I felt my neck go limp and my head fell back against his chest. A sigh escaped my parched lips. His arms released me from their clutch and I ran straight over to Natasha "We need to go now, I have a lot to tell you."

She gave me a slightly perplexed look and we dashed out of the training room and into my bedroom. Within the first week of me staying here, T'Challa had set me up with my own room complete with an en-suite and a stunning view over Wakanda.

NOBODY's P.O.V

Everybody left in the training room was slightly confused at the enhanced girl's behaviour. Everybody apart from Bucky. He just stood and smirked to himself. 'I'll go check on her later.' He thought to himself.

"Dude, what did you say to her?" Sam asked. "Nothing much." Bucky replied with his gaze trained on the floor with a smile upon his lips. He knew the how Y/N felt about him and, honestly, he felt the same way.

He lusted after her but at the same time just wanted to cuddle up next to her. Steve just looked at his friend of 70 years and chuckled to himself. He knew what was going through Bucky's mind. Steve and Bucky left the gym before Sam, Wanda and T'Challa.

'Man Talk' was their excuse which left Sam slightly agitated at the fact that he wasn't invited. T'Challa told him not to worry about it. When Steve and Bucky got into the corridor, Steve laughed and looked at his friend. "What?" Bucky asked "Still got that 40s charm, hey Buck?"

"I guess I just have that effect on women."

Y/N's P.O.V

Nat and I sat on my plush bed as I told her about what Bucky had said and what was currently racing through my mind. "I just," I signed "I don't know how he does this to me." Nat smiled at her friend.

"I guess it's just that 40s charm." Her and Steve had had quite a few conversations about Bucky and me, unbeknownst to both of us at the time. They had even betted on when we would sleep together.

"Maybe." I laughed and fell back onto my bed. "I feel like a fucking teenager, what the hell is wrong with me?" A knock vibrated through the room. An annoyed sigh left Nat's mouth as she got up to answer the door.

Behind the wooden slab stood the infamous solider with a look of desire in his eyes that could murder any woman. "I'll just leave you two alone." The former Russain spy stated and left the room.

That meant just me and Bucky. In a room. On our own. Great.

The Jesus look-a-like walked into the room but not before closing the door behind him. I sat up on my bed and looked up at him through my lashes. "I just wanted to check how you were. You left in quite a hurry back there." Bucky knew exactly what he was doing. "Yeah, I just-I wasn't feeling well."

"And how can Natasha help with an upset stomach?" His silver tongue asked. By now he was sat next to me, looking down at my frame, unholy thoughts racing through his head. "Well-"

"It's okay, Doll," He cut me off "I think I know a way to make you feel better." Bucky's metal arm reached up to my face and brought it closer to his. Without warning, he smashed our lips together. I moaned at the sudden impact and lent into the kiss.

Both of his large hands now held my face against his, his tongue slipped into my mouth. He ran it across my upper lip and then my bottom lip. "Is this helping, princess?" I was breathless so I responded with a whine.

"I'll take that as a 'yes' then." He chuckled. His vibranium arm pushed me down onto the bed so Bucky could climb onto me. Sweat dripped down both of our body's, giving us a godly glow. Bucky sat up and removed his top.

His abs shone with sweat and tensed as he breathed in and out. "Like what you see?"

'I am not going to last much longer if he continues like this.' I thought to myself. His fingers played with the hem of my top and then proceeded to take it off my shaking body. He added it to the pile of clothes that had begun to build next to my bed.

His hands then moved down to my shorts. As he pulled my shorts off, he made sure to drag his fingers down my thighs, taking every last opportunity to tease the fuck out of me. "You're so fucking gorgeous, Doll." Bucky practically moaned in my ear.

His lips moved to my jaw, leaving little purple marks across my neck and collarbone. He made his way to my bra and slid his hands round to my back to take it off me. Snap. As quick as lightning it was on the floor with the rest of the clothes and his mouth was leeched onto my right nipple.

"Oh my goodness, Bucky." I moaned. He moved over to my other nipple and I snaked my hands through his soft hair. A small grunt came out of his lips when I tugged on it. He released my nipple and moved down towards my panties.

Bucky brought his hands up to my knees and pushed them up so my legs were spread wide for him. He trailed his fingers up my bare legs, his metal arm creating a trail of goosebumps behind it. His long finger hooked into my panties and dragged them down my legs.

He grunted at the sight of my dripping pussy. "God, I haven't seen anything this good in years." I blushed at his words but he surprised me when he dived head first in between my legs. My back arched up in pleasure, his tongue circled my clit while his fingers traced up and down my wet slit.

Another moan erupted from my throat, this one longer than the others though. Because Bucky had now slipped two of his incredible vibranium fingers into me. "Bucky."

"Yeah, Doll?" Another moan "I don't think I'm gonna last long." He laughed and said "That's the point." He got rougher and faster. His fingers plunging into me and pulling out at a rapid pace. More moans kept falling out of my mouth, like prayers.

They were a mixture of Bucky's name and various curse words. "I'm close, Buck." I said and he just grunted, the vibrations going straight to my core. My hands trailed around his head but eventually settled in his hair.

'I wanna make him grunt again.'

So I pulled and my prayers were answered, he grunted. Again and Again, every time I pulled he would grunt. My climax edged closer and closer until finally, the cord snapped. A wave of euphoria crashed over my quivering body.

Bucky kept his fingers going, making sure that I road out my high. "You're doing so well, princess." He praised. He stood up and I got to see the tent that had formed in his pants. A large bulge rested at the apex of his thighs. "All for you."

'Shit, he caught me staring.' He removed his pants and boxers and crawled back up to me. His lips captured mine in a hungry kiss, he devoured my lips. "Fuck, Bucky. Please."

"Please, what?" He teased "Please just fuck me." And so my prayers were answered for a second time that night. He pushed his large length into me and my hands grabbed and clawed at his back.

"Oh my-" My words were cut of by a strangled moan and yet another grunt by Bucky. He pushed in and out of me, feeding me more and more pleasure. Moans and grunts came flying out of both of our mouths.

We didn't care about anybody else in that moment. We only cared about each other, our tangled limbs and loud noises. A few 'fuck's' came out of Bucky's mouth along with "Shit, you're so tight." and "You're the best I've had in forever."

Our climaxes edged closer, the knots in our stomachs becoming more taut by the moment. He filled me up perfectly and I knew that I never wanted to move from this position. "I'm close." I warned Bucky "I know, me too Doll, just hold on a little longer."

His thrusts got faster and rougher. His tip began to hit the most magical spot in me. Stars began to form in my vision and I was high. "Bucky, shit. I'm gon-ugh-I'm gonna-" but I didn't get to finish my sentence because my orgasm pressed into me.

It coursed through every inch of me and took over my body. Parts of me started twitching and the stars crowded even more of my vision. Bucky came shortly after me, grunts and moans came out of his mouth as well. After our highs had calmed down, Bucky lay on top of me.

Still deep in me. We were both panting and trying to get over what just happened. Bucky eventually stood up and walked into my bathroom. He came out with a couple of small, wet towels. "Let's get you cleaned up, Doll." And so he did. He then tucked me under the covers and kissed my forehead before climbing in behind me. Everything went dark.

I was woken up the next morning by Bucky. He shook my shoulder gently, however the words that came out of his mouth held urgency. "Y/N, get up. We need to go, Doll."

"What's happening?" I croaked out. "Thanos is coming."

"Shit." I murmured. "Come on, follow me." I followed Bucky down to the armory where we got suited up. Bucky's suit was a deep blue and clung to his muscles perfectly. His left arm was sleeveless to display his iconic, shining arm.

My suit was similar to Wanda's as we had similar powers. Instead of red, my suit was a cerulean blue. It kind of matched Bucky's and I think T'Challa did that on purpose just to mess with me. We made our way through the streets of Wakanda and down to the soon-to-be-Battlefield. There we met up with Steve and the rest of the guys, and girls.

Everybody was there apart from Wanda. I was told she was protecting Shuri up in her lab, along with some man called Vision. Apparantly he had an infinity stone in his forehead and Shuri was trying to remove it. I was also introduced to M'Baku aka the seven foot wall of fresh Wakandan meat. They called him 'The Man Ape' and it was clear to see why.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." He said. T'Challa also introduced me to Okoye, a beautiful woman who was the head of the Dora Milaje. The stage was set. Everybody was in place. In the distance we saw a flying ring of some sorts.

Out of it came these creatures. They began to surround Wakanda's boarders, looking for weak spots. "They're surrounding us," T'Challa told Shuri through his suit. "Open it. Please, it's the only way." Shuri complied and opened up the gates to Wakanda.

We fought for what felt like forever. Wanda taught me how to use my powers over the past few weeks so I was flinging the outriders out of my way, killing them in the process. But more piled through the entrance.

All of my friends began to get taken down. That's when it happened. A giant pillar of light burst through the clouds, knocking a couple of the creatures out of it's way. When the light cleared, I could see three figures. One that looked like some sort of tree, a handsome man with a huge axe and a raccoon? Confusion racked my brain.

"Bring me Thanos!" The man shouted. He charged and leaped into the air. Lighting surrounded him and then struck the floor where he landed. We continued to fight. The battle went on and on. I ended up with Nat, Okoye and Wanda.

We had just killed something called Proxima Midnight. I think that was her name. We all sat on the floor, breathless when a booming sound thundered through the trees at the border. "Thanos." Nat said.

We all stood up and began to sprint to the forest. When we got there, we saw a giant purple man. He stood with dominance and radiated power. On his left hand there was a gauntlet. In it, five stones. There was only one left. Steve charged at Thanos, grabbing his hand.

Wanda was using her powers to destroy the last stone. That must be Vision. I thought looking at the man on his knees in front of her. "I just feel you." I heard him whimper. I ran over to Steve just as Bucky sprinted out of the bushes.

We both lunged at Thanos. Bucky with his gun in his hand and me, in the form of a white tiger. I slashed at Thanos's legs but I didn't do much damage. He pushed me back and I went flying into a tree. I changed back to my human form and groaned; the wind had been knocked out of me and my back exploded in pain.

Thanos defeated everyone one by one. Then he got to Wanda who had just destroyed the last stone. Unfortunately, Thanos had the time stone. He reversed time and ripped the stone straight out of Vision's head. Wanda screamed in despair.

The axe from earlier came flying through the air, straight towards Thanos. He shot at it with his gauntlet but the axe continued to fly. It landed with a sickening thud in his chest. The tall man with the lighting now stood in front of a kneeling Thanos.

"I told you you'd pay for that." The man stated. "You should've gone for the head." Thanos raised his hand and snapped his fingers. A wave of energy burst from around him. The gauntlet was fried and everybody was exhausted.

"What did you do?" The lighting man asked, worry lace his deep voice. "Bucky." I whined. My hand had started to turn to dust. Bucky ran over to me and lifted me into his arms. He cradled me and stroked my hair.

"Please don't go." He whimpered. "Bucky,"

"Yeah, Doll." He replied with tears brimming his crystal eyes. "I-I lov-" My entire body had turned to dust. Ashes covered Bucky's thighs and hands. "No!" He screamed "Please," He begged "Please come back." His hand then began to decompose. He fell to the ground, only to see Steve's feet come into his eye line. "My doll." Bucky cried just as his body disintegrated too.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #imagines #marvel smut #thisisshitsorry #fic

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dearlazerbunny · 5 years

Text

Lie to Me (Ch. 13 of 28)

Pairings: Loki x Reader

Genre/Ratings: M eventually (aiming for a slow burn here); warnings for kidnapping and subsequent anxiety/PTSD (will be marked before every chapter)

Words: 1900

Summary: If you had to guess what the captured, traitor, trickster god Loki Laufeyson wanted or needed at this moment, a babysitter would be far, far down on the list. (Set after the events of Avengers 1.)

SHOUTOUT TO @molmcb and @jessiejunebug, whom I have now kidnapped and am holding hostage in my bedroom so they can be my full-time cheerleaders

Requested Tags: @deraniel, @iamverity, @yasnooshka24, @wegingerangelica, @themusingsofmany, @dark-night-sky-99, @tarynkauai, @stuffandstuff-stuff, @angelicshinigami, @my-current-fandom-is, @geekysimmerthings

Walking into Loki’s cell the next day is… difficult. The screams you threw at him are still echoing in your ears, the alcohol (or sudden lack of) is still making your brain sluggish, and your head hurts from all the crying you did late in the night. You’re dreading his glare; the icy tone of his voice. Did you just undo months of friendship in one day? You very well might’ve. He trusted you with his fears and struggles about Thor and you threw it back in his face for what? Some sort of twisted reassurance that your life was worse than his at that moment? Horrible.

There are so many apologies lingering on your tongue you feel choked with them, and there’s a terrible tightness in your limbs. The feeling intensifies when you walk in and he’s got that awful blank look in his eyes just like he did when you first met him. It scares you to no end; thinking you might’ve lost him.

“Hey.”

His gaze does shift your way as you approach, thank god. You open your mouth to pour out your apologies, but nothing comes out. Useless. In a fit of anxiety, your fingertips end up brushing the wall of glass in front of you. There’s still a smudge on it from where you smacked it the day before. Ugh. Rather than try and put what you’re feeling into words, you let your forehead bang against the glass, eyes on your feet. “I’m a terrible person.” Your face scrunches in effort to hold back an unexpected wave of emotion. “I-”

“Tell me about him.”

“Huh?” His tone is still cool- a little more reserved- but you know an olive branch when you see one.

“Your brother. Tell me about him.”

“O-okay.” Where to start? Your indecisiveness wiggles its way out through your fingers, and they flex against the glass. “Well. He was super smart, first of all. The type of person who could walk into a room and instantly see all the connections: who was with who, who would stab the other in the back before the month was up, who was nervous or who was too cocky for their own good. He read people… flawlessly.”

You tilt your head a little, letting memories bubble up in your mind. “I idolized him as a kid. He was everything I wanted to be. He got all my parents’ attention, and I knew that, but I basically didn’t mind because he deserved to be the favorite, that’s how awesome he was. Does that make any sense?”

“What changed?”

You sigh, and the sadness in it almost cracks your chest open. “Kids… see what they want to see. They want to believe their brothers are their own personal knights in shining armor. That they can do no wrong. I lived in that denial for… well. Way too long.”

“My parents played a part in that, I think. They tried to hide the worst of it from me. If he was gone for three days and I asked where he was, they’d say he was just staying with a friend. When he came home high or drunk he had the flu or food poisoning, and I had to stay away from him because he might be contagious. I think deep down I knew something was wrong, but I just ignored it. I loved him, I loved them. I walked on eggshells because I didn’t want anything to shatter this illusion we had built.”

You’re suddenly exhausted. Opening up these boxes, ones that are usually duct taped tightly shut and squeezed into some deep dark crevice if your brain, always weighs on your shoulders. Rather than going back to your chair you just sit down on the floor, letting yourself lean against the glass.

“One night, when I was- fifteen, maybe? I’d just started high school, I think. A bunch of his friends had come over to hang out and he invited me to join them.” You pause, swallowing a bit of nausea. “I was so excited to be hanging out with all his cool friends. They gave me drinks, told me I was pretty, made me feel so grown up and important. But I started feeling… weird, after a few hours, so I wanted to go to bed, but they made me stay. I remember sitting on the couch and just… spacing. Staring at the wall while everyone talked around me. It took me forever to notice the hand on my leg.”

You can physically feel the intensity of Loki’s gaze ratchet up to twenty. When you look at him, his green eyes are sparkling dangerously. He knows where this is going. You wish he didn’t.

“It turns out one of his friends had a bit of a crush on me. He started, you know. Rubbing my leg, tucking my hair behind my ear. I was zoned out but enough of me was there to realize something was… not good. Zach-” saying his name makes your heart sink a little- “Zach was on the other side of the room, but when I finally got his attention, he-” you close your eyes, like the scene is playing out right in front of you and you can’t bear to watch. “He just looked at me with this total… indifference, and he said, oh, he already paid, so. He can do whatever he wants. And he went right back to his beer.”

It’s been ten years since that night and you can still remember how the adrenaline set in, how it pushed through your body like lightning when you smacked the guy’s hand away from your bra and he looked at you with murderous eyes. “I was lucky that I’d only had one cup of- whatever they gave me. I was still mostly in my right mind. I said no, and the guy got mad and started screaming about how many grams of ketamine he traded for this, then went to confront Zach about it. This huge fight started- I don’t remember most of it. I’m pretty sure I was comatose by the time punches were thrown, but luckily everyone was too occupied to notice. One of the neighbors called the police, they broke the door down and arrested everyone, and they found fifteen year old me drugged up on the couch, talking in circles like I didn’t have a care in the world.”

Waking up in a hospital bed, remembering nothing, was terrifying. Having the memories come back one by one, at the police’s gentle prompting, was even more so. “I’m still not sure what they roofied me with. The nurses never told me. But I was in the hospital for a day or so.”

Some sort of self-deprecating, bitter laugh escapes you. “So yeah. My brother sold me for drugs, I guess. That was a fun one to handle at fifteen.”

“And he is dead?”

“What, planning on reviving him so you can kill him again? I’ll help.” That does soften Loki’s expression just a fraction. “Yeah, he was high and drunk on god knows what and decided to go out to some party. Ran a red light, took out a couple of cars with his own. The storm didn’t help much I’m sure.” Your fingernails dig into your palms, leaving crescent moons on your skin. “He dragged so many people down with him that day. Good people. People who didn’t deserve it. If he had just taken himself out I don’t think anybody would have cried, but- I guess he had a penchant for ruining lives up until the very end.”

“He deserves far worse than he received.” There is unrestrained rage in Loki’s voice, a fiery sort of protectiveness that would be scary if it wasn’t protectiveness over you.

“Easy, Trickster. He’s long gone. Though I’m inclined to agree.” You knot your fingers together. “I know it doesn’t excuse anything about what happened yesterday. I was- terrible. But I was just so jealous. You have a brother who would do anything for you, who loves you and cares about you, and- that’s something I’ve wanted for so long. I know your relationship with Thor is far from perfect, and you have absolutely every right to feel the way you do. I just think you’re blind to what you have, sometimes.”

Loki doesn’t say anything for a long time, and neither do you. Your words hang in the air between the pair of you, tugging on the rough edges of both your minds, wanting resolution. To your surprise, he gets up off his cot and comes to sit in front of you, mirroring your cross-legged pose so that you’re face to face. It’s nice, if you try to forget there’s layers of reinforced barrier separating you. Absentmindedly, your subconscious paints a scene where you and he are sitting, talking, laughing- somewhere comfortable, somewhere there’s no pressure, where you could take his hand and let his thumb smooth over the scars on your palm.

“Gods are not impervious to mortal plights. We love, we war, we hate, we hold petty feuds and retaliate against the ones we love. We are not always things to be worshipped or revered- quite the opposite; I believe many of your myths regarding us are what you mortals call cautionary tales.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, am I in the midst of hearing the one and only Loki Laufeyson admit that he’s not perfect? Should I be recording this?”

“Hush, Witling, I am trying to help. My point is, if even the gods are not perfect, you cannot expect yourself to be.” Loki taps on the glass right where your heart is. “There are no apologies necessary. I have endured far worse by the hands of people who would never think to be remorseful for their actions.”

You frown. “That doesn’t make it okay. You still deserve common decency.”

“You were hurting, badly. My only complaint is that I was not able to be of more use.”

“I don’t know, you made a pretty good verbal punching bag.”

You’re treated to an exquisite eye roll, but it’s balanced by the fond smile on his face. “Yes, well, do try to not make it a large habit, darling. I am quite fragile, you know.”

“Fragile my ass. According to field reports you got ground-pounded by the Hulk multiple times and walked away with a bruise.”

“A very unpleasant bruise! Have you no sympathy?”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Shoulda thought about that before you angered the jolly green giant.”

“I beg your pardon, absolutely nothing about him was jolly.”

You have to giggle at the miffed expression on his face. “It’s an expression, Trickster. And it’s not my fault you have no self preservation skills.”

“And here I thought you were on my side.”

He says it jokingly, but something about his words tugs at you the wrong way. “I am on your side.”

Loki stops and looks you in the eyes, startled by your sudden sincerity. “There is no need to throw your lot in with the enemy. Mine is not the team you wish to be on.”

“Agree to disagree, I suppose.”

He looks at you for a long moment, gaze digging into your head to seek out all the little things you aren’t saying. But eventually he just nods, conceding. “I suppose we shall.”

A/N: Happy Thursday! Apparently I missed national fanfic/fanfic author’s day, so here’s a belated celebration :D

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