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virginsexgod69 · 3 months

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imagine shane somehow pulled it together and survived with the group until season 3, but lori still sadly dies giving birth to judith. while they’re out on a run, he and rick meet you. at first they’re just jacking you for your weapons, ammo, etc, since they’re gearing up to fight the governor but then shane realizes that he wants to take you home so you can take care of his baby and him too. rick’s along for the ride too

❝ Taking Care ❞

pairing Shane Walsh x f!Reader

cw guns, mild swearing, typical twd violence, injuries

2.5k words

note okay wow, writing shane was lowkey kinda difficult hahahaha, but i tried my best! although i'm not sure if i like this or not... either way, i really hope i fulfilled your request!!!!!

“If this is someone’s stuff, we should at least leave them some.”

“We need this more than they do. ‘M sure they don’t have a baby or are tryna gear up for a damn war.” The two men continued to ransack your sad excuse of a camp. Guns, knives, canned foods, all gone, shoved into their own bags. You watched them as they continued to rummage through your stuff. You knew you should confront them, but you’ve seen how scary people have become and didn’t want to leave the safety of the tree you were hiding behind.

“Think there’s anythin’ good in that car?”

“Maybe we should jus’ take the whole car.”

You couldn’t just sit by and let them take everything you risked your life to accumulate. Even though your heart was beating a thousand miles a minute and your entire body shook with nerves, you removed the safety off your pistol and stepped out from behind the tree, pointing your weapon at the curly-haired man.

“S-stop stealin’ my stuff!” You ordered, although it sounded more like you were begging.

The men stopped and turned to look at you. They stood with confidence and clearly weren’t afraid of you. That made you even more nervous. The man you had your gun aimed at slowly put his backpack full of your stuff down before raising his arms up in surrender. His partner, however, reached for his own gun.

"Don't!" you shouted, turning your gun on him instead.

"We don't mean any harm, we just saw stuff, so we took stuff," the blue eyed man said. There was something about the way he spoke. Fearless, authoritative. It sent nervous chills down your spine.

"Yeah, so why don't you put down the gun, darlin'," his partner said. His unflinching stance and muscular body gave you the impression that he wasn't one to mess with.

"Tell your friend to put down my stuff and maybe I'll consider it," you bargained.

The man smirked, clearly not taking you seriously. It pissed you off.

"Do ya even know how to use that thing?" Now you were really pissed. You moved your finger to the trigger to fire a warning shot, but the man was on top of you instantly, tackling you to the ground. He grabbed the wrist of your hand containing the gun and slammed it against the ground until you dropped it, ignoring the way you screamed and writhed against him, trying to fight him off. With your gun now in his hold, he shoved it into your temple.

"Shane, wai—"

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't end your fucking life right now," he demanded, cutting his partner off.

You sent a nasty glare his way, but when he didn't relent, you knew he was serious about killing you. You didn't want to show the men any fear, but you couldn't help the way your heart raced or how your eyes burned with tears.

"You said," you swallowed nervously, "You said you have a baby, right? I-I can help! I was a nanny before the world fell. I know how to take care of babies and kids."

He pondered over your words for a moment before clicking the safety back on and yanking you up from the ground.

"I think we should take her back, Rick," the man whose name you learned was Shane said.

The other man, Rick put his hands on his hips before running a hand over his face in thought.

"We already have people back at the prison who take care of Judith. If we take her that's just another mouth to feed," Rick argued.

Prison? Did they have some sort of camp? Having a stable home sounded better than living out of your car and sleeping in a tent.

"Do any of your people know baby first aid and CPR?" you asked. Now you wanted to convince them to bring you back with them. Anything seemed better than what you currently had going on.

Rick and Shane stepped off to the side for a moment, talking in hushed whispers you could barely make out.

"How many walkers have you killed?" Rick asked as they two approached you again.

"I dunno, a lot?" you replied, confused at the question.

"How many people have you killed?"

You sighed, getting tired of his silly interrogation. "Um, two."

"Why?"

This man was really nosey. "Cause they were bit." That's all the detail you were willing to give the man, but he seemed to accept it anyway.

"Fine. We can bring her back," Rick finally agreed. Shane grabbed your upper arm and leaned down to your ear. "If I even think you're gonna try some funny shit, I will kill you." You nodded nervously before snatching your arm from his grasp.

You helped the men load the rest of your stuff into their car -this time you were okay with them taking your stuff since you'd be going back with them- and got into the backseat of their green car.

When you arrived at the prison and saw that it was actually a prison, you were actually a bit shocked, but you didn't complain. Shelter was shelter and having it was better than not. You followed the men inside, curiously looking around as you did so. An elderly man and a young girl holding a baby sat at a table in the area before the cells. Their guards immediately went up when they saw you walk in behind Rick and Shane.

"Who's this?" the man asked.

"This is...uh," Shane trailed off, not knowing your name, so you quickly told him.

"We found her in the woods. Said she was a nanny, so we brought her back to help out with Judith," he explained as the girl handed him the baby. He smiled down at the baby girl in his arms before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"Hello, nice to meet y'all," you greeted. They both seemed apprehensive, but returned your greeting nonetheless.

"And nice to meet you!" you said in a quieter, higher pitched voice to the baby in Shane's arms. She couldn't have been more than a few months. It felt strange seeing a baby so young in the middle of the apocalypse. You assumed Shane was the father, considering how he was the one cradling the infant in his arms and not Rick. But who was the mother? You glanced up at the girl. She seemed way too young to be having a baby with Shane.

Her blue eyes met yours. "Oh, um, I'm not her mother," she explained. You could tell by everybody's body language that you shouldn't ask who is, so you kept quiet.

"Can I hold her?" you asked Shane.

He looked at you for a moment, deciding if he wanted to trust you to hold her just yet. He gently placed Judith into your arms, his warm hands brushing yours in the process.

"Hi, baby!" you cooed, overtaken by her cuteness "aren't you jus' the cutest lil' thing!" She just looked at you, not a thought behind her eyes. You couldn't help the way your face split into a gigantic smile. You glanced up at Shane, but he was already looking at you with a ghost of a smile on his face and eyes less cold than they were earlier. You handed him back the baby and he handed it back to the girl before motioning for you to follow him.

He led you through the prison, to a cell you'd be staying in. When the other members of his group saw you and demanded answers, with authority present in his tone, Shane told them you were here for his daughter and here to stay, leaving no room for questions. Even if they didn't seem to agree with his choice, they didn't say anything. You sat on your cot. It wasn't the most comfortable, but it was heaven compared to the dirt.

"Thanks for bringing me here," you said looking down at your shoes.

"Better uphold your end of the deal or else I'll turn you loose and leave you for dead."

What a warm welcome.

In the week or so that passed, everyone started to warm up to you, especially Shane. At first, you suspected he was hovering because he didn't fully trust you with Judith, but when he hung around you, even during the times you were without Judith, you started to suspect he liked being in your company. And his wasn’t that bad either.

“Hey there,” you greeted as you approached him with baby Judith in your arms. He stood in the watchtower, having been in there keeping watch the night before. The bright, early morning sun shone on him, making his brown eyes glow. He smiled happily at his daughter before smiling at you too.

“What’re y’all doin’ up so early?” He asked, taking Judith from you and cradling her in his arms.

“The little one was hungry, had to get up and feed her.”

“Have you eaten yet?” He asked you. You nodded your head.

“Why don’t you go get yourself somethin’ to eat?” His voice was laced with genuine care, which shocked you. He hasn’t shown too much care for anyone in the short time you’ve been here.

“What about you, you’ve been up here all nigh. Surely you’re hungry?” He handed you Judith and turned you around, gently nudging you toward the exit.

“Mornin’, Beth,” you said cheerly as you helped yourself to a granola bar. You though about it for a second before grabbing one for Shane too.

“Hey,” she replied.

“Do you mind watching Judith for a bit? Gotta do somethin’ real quick?” She agreed and happily took the baby in her arms.

You hurried back to the watch tower and thankfully, Shane was still in there.

“What’re you doin’ back in here? Thought I told you to go eat?”

“You’re not the boss of me,” you teased as you tossed him the granola bar. He smirked and caught the bar. You took a seat, leaning against the wall as you ate your breakfast. He looked at you as if to ask what you you were doing.

“ ‘M keepin’ you company,” you stated matter of factly. He didn’t argue with you and instead sat down next to you. You wanted to remind him that he was to be keeping watch, but decided against it, afraid it might push him away. The two of you ate in silence for a bit, too hungry to avert attention from the food.

“Judith seems to like you,” he commented.

“Well, I’d hope so, since I’m her nanny,” you joked. He chucked before responding. “You take such good care of her.”

You smiled at him. “Least I could do since y’all took me in… even though you tried to rob me and threaten my life.” Despite the truth to your words, there was a joking tone to your voice. He looked a bit guilty.

“We were just,” he took a moment to gather his words, “I had to-”

“’S fine, I get it,” you said, slightly relieving him of his guilt. “I’ve had to do some things I didn’t wanna to survive.”

“Haven’t we all.” You were grateful that he didn’t try to pry too much into your life, but you wouldn’t have minded sharing had he asked anyway. You rested your head on his shoulder -much like you did to your friends before the dead started rising- and he let you stay there.

“I better get back to Judith,” you said after a few minutes.

“And I gotta change shifts.” The two of you parted ways, but not before he thanked you for the granola bar.

You found Beth again. She was in a cell with Maggie who was feeding Judith. She handed you the baby and her bottle so you could take over feeding her. The sisters said their goodbyes before leaving the cell, leaving you and Judith behind. She was almost done with the bottle before you heard the faint sound of gunshots. You tensed up, clutching Judith close to you.The gunshots picked up, making you wonder if you should go and see what’s going on. You looked down at the baby dozing off in your arms. You couldn’t just leave her in here alone. The prison was virtually empty with nobody else to watch her. You chose to stay, even though the guilt of doing nothing ate away at you.

After what felt like forever, the shooting finally stopped. You breathed a sigh of relief. Loud footsteps rapidly approached before Shane appeared in the doorway. He was sweaty, out of breath, and clutching his side.

“Came to check on you two, everything alright?” He asked, worriedly.

“Yeah, she’s fine, everything’s fine,” you replied, eager to ask what it was that happened.

“Are you alright?” Concern flashed in his eyes.

You nodded. “What happened out there? Is everyone okay?”

“It was the Governor, killed one of the prisoners and tried to take out everyone else too.”

You looked away from his eyes and down to the hand clutching his side. Blood was starting to leak between his fingers. Your heart dropped.

“Shane, did you get shot?” You asked sternly, hoping he wouldn’t lie.

“Just a graze, I’ll be fine.” You put a sleeping Judith in her crib before approaching the man.

“Lemme patch you up.”

“It’s just a graze,” he insisted.

You sighed and looked up at him which forced him to look at you. “I know you just brought me here to take care of Judith, but I wanna take care of you too.” He let out a sigh and finally relented. You smiled up at him before scurrying off to fetch some medical supplies.

When you came back, he was sitting on the cot, still clutching his wound with a pained look on his face. When he heard you come in, he sat up straighter and put that stoic look back on his face.

“You don’t have to act all tough for me,” you teased. You doused a towel with some rubbing alcohol before kneeling in front of him. He couldn’t look you in the eyes as he lifted his shirt to give you access to the wound. It seemed to have stop bleeding, so you gently cleaned the wound before putting a bandage on it.

“See, really wasn’t that big a deal,” he said with a teasing smirk on his face.

“Still had me worried, though.” You stood up and tidied the mess of medical supplies.

“Don’t gotta worry ‘bout me, I can handle it.”

You knew he could, but the thought of losing him scared you. You leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to his cheek.

“Just don’t want Judith losin’ her daddy is all.” He sighed and looked up to the ceiling in thought.

“Thank you,” he said.

“No problem.”

“No, not just for this. For taking care of Judith and for taking care of me.” You sat beside him and slipped your hand through his.

“Always.”

not quite proofread, proofskimmed maybe. i found some free time, so i'm gonna try and finish writing as many requests as i can yaaay!!! anyway, thanks for reading !! <3

oh btw, i learned what a taglist is and now i have one! if you'd like to be in it, let me know!

Taglist

@fuckedbydaryl

#the walking dead #fluff #fanfic #shane walsh x reader #shane walsh #rick grimes #twd fanfiction #twd #twd season 3 #fic rec

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 1 year

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FANFICTION AU: The things we do for love

Concept: You are Daemons lover and got kidnapped by Aemond and aegon and are used for fucked up things

Warnings: Dark sorta non con and violence and the word soup. (Quietly mumbles: I fucking hate the word soup) 18+ for good reasons.

(Gif of me when we find a new word for soup, right below this sentence)

That evening...

You are chained to the bed. The one who calls himself king left and you are alone with the one that cut you. You don't know their names.

The one eyed fucker keeps you company despite all your insults, all your spitting and all your begging. You wish he would leave you alone. You are certain he enjoys it that you feel horrible near him. You are certain he enjoys watching you and that he even enjoys hurting you Bullying you and himulating you.

He is holding a bowl of soup and patiently feeds you the disgustingly sweet soup with vegetables and few chicken pieces. The spoon is pushed down your lips and you swallow groaning.

He makes his fingertip wet and wipes away some remains of soup on your lips, grinning when leaning in close. 'Don't I get a thank you for taking such good care of you?' He asks and you know he is not serious.

Something snaps. 'You're a sick fucker! I hope you fucking die!' You yell at him.

He grins at you and your pathic insults. A face like that has seen it all and doesn't fear death. You can tell. 'Yes, make me angry, I fuck really good when I'm angry, gorgeous. Be a good girl and open wide, I have more soup for you.' He forces your mouth open and feeds you more of the too-hot disgusting soup.

You had enough and fight against the chains. 'I don't want to eat! I want to go back home!' You yell when you have swallowed it all. He sighs dramatically and rolls his good eye putting the bowl away on the nightstand.

He takes hold of your throat and gives a squeeze. You are left gasping for air. It becomes more and more difficult for you to breath as he continues to choke you. 'I won't tolerate my own brother yelling at me, and he is my king. Guess three times what I do with little whores whose cunts I own?' You won't give him the satisfaction of offering him water if he was dying of thirst.

He doesn't own you. He might have taken you prisoner but it'll be long before he breaks you.

'You don't own my body at all.' You don't say it angry. You just smile.

He leans in. 'I just hope, that when I and my brother fuck you, that you keep being a brat and won't become a scared boring thing. We love a good brat. We love breaking our whore and we love fucking her and breaking her until she can't be repaired.' You hear yourself softly groan at his words. He grins and backs away from you.

The king suddenly enters the room. No one announces him. He takes off his black crown and casually throws the thing on a chair. He walks very different, more cautious than his brother. He starts to smile when he noticed you, tied up and glaring.

His brother eyes the crown worriedly before putting it away on a high shelf safely and secure. You roll your eyes. It's proberly some weird Targaryen crown from some dead old fuck.

He walks back to you and sits back on his chair that is very close to the bed you are tied to.

They help each other which is their strenght. But its about to become their downfall. Their doom. The king might be swayed. 'Your brother has been torturing me.' You say, addressing your other captor. 'He has been a Annoyance and even hurt me-' you make your voice soft and breakable and you pout a bit.

Before you can even finish, someone grabs your throat and you are choked again. Your other One-eyed captor smirks when choking you like you personally offended him. He laughs when you gasp for air and try to get him off you. He talks very slow with his dark deep voice. 'You don't know what that is, little brat.' Torture.

The king smirks, amused seeing you be choked and punished. 'I agree with Aemond.' You briefly look at your captor now that you know his name. It sounds too pretty to be his name. Aemond is apparently the One-eyed fucker.

So that leaves the mysterious unnamed king. Aemond releases you gently and smiles when you cough. 'What exactly did our uncle do with you? Tell us a bit about how you like to get it.'

You don't want to talk with them about this. You think back of the three times where Daemon did fuck you and it was all just pretty normal tame good stuff. You on your back he on top and he just gently making love to you.

'You can both die.' You blurt out.

The king chuckles lowly.

'That sounds a bit like treason.' They did the treason. You didn't.

'I can fuck the anwser out of you, but I am a gentleman so I ask nicely.' He warns.

You sigh before complying.

'We..We just had sex and kissed...' It's difficult to describe. You don't want to think of those times. You don't want to tell them how you like it either.

Aemond smirks. 'Hm. How were you ...fucked?' He wants details the disgusting pig. 'Did you got it standing, tied up, kneeling, maybe from behind, reversed-' with every word a image pops up and you never realised that such things were possible. Daemon for sure never tried any of it with you.

Which you are grateful for: Some of the options Aemond listed sound painful or humiliating or both.

You shake your head. 'Just him on top. We didn't try anything else. Just...regular man and wife things.'

Aegon laughs at that and even Aemond hides a smirk. 'Did we took the right girl? She is not a whore at all.' He says to his brother. Aemond steps closer to you.

'You're not holding things back from us, hm, gorgeous? You know what happens to girls who lie.' You feel something happen when you are firmly grabbed by your arm.

You know its supposed to scare you but you dont care. 'I don't? You never told me?'

'It hurts.' Ah. That is very descriptive.

You give them a little more details to satisfy them. 'It happend...three times and it was all very similar. It was good and nice and he asked for consent everytime. He didn't felt entitled to me.' Unlike you two you want to add but keep your mouth shut.

Both groan annoyed. 'What a boring old fuck. Did you like it when he got a little rough with you?' Aemond asks.

You feel your cheeks turn red and you look for his brother for help.'I don't understand your question.' You confess.

The prince runs out of patience. He has so little to begin with. 'When he pulled your hair a bit, spanked your ass a bit, maybe called you names or himulated you? Did you like that?'

You are so confused and actually scared out of your mind. 'I don't understand. He never did that with me. At all. He was respectful and kind.'

He chuckles, and before you realise what has happend he has planted a soft kiss on your forehead. He leans in and whispers something in your ear. You hear his voice echoing in your head and freeze when he whispers. 'You're in for a treat. You never had sex like that before, trust me.' You feel your hairs stand up and tug the chains trying to get away from him.

He laughs when you try to flee him. 'I like it when I need to work for my reward, chase it around and pin it down. Keep it up, gorgeous. It was like you were made for me specifically.' He jokes cruelly and you feel tears form in your eyes.

'Have you ever sucked our uncle off? Made him feel really good?' You shake your head no.

'I'm named Aegon.' The king says. 'When you come you will use my name not my titles.' He says and starts taking off his shirt.

You panic.

'Bold of you to assume I can even come with you inside me!' You lash out like a beast.

He grins. 'You'll get creative. I know you like your men a bit older but we'll have plenty of experience too.' Your chains are removed and your legs are grabbed.

'We didn't decide who gets her first.' Aemond laughs, as Aegon stares down hungrily licking his lips.

His brother sighs. 'You'll tame her better than I ever could. Go get that whore.' You bolt away from the bed, running to every possible door and checking it. The door Aegon used doesn't work from the inside. It's a hidden door.

Aemond grins. 'As my king commands...'

///

I figured out the read more thingy aren't we proud of me?!

Me;*reminds me that soups exists*

Me;

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #dark aemond targaryen #house of the dragon fanfiction #dark aemond targaryen x oc #aegon ii targaryen #dark aemond targaryen x reader #dark aegon ii targaryen #dark aegon ii targaryen x reader #dark!#head the warnings #dubcon #possible triggering content #She/her reader #AFAB Reader #DarkFantasy #Possible noncon #Possible gore #Old work

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peanutpinet · 3 years

Text

Yuta (cold mafia boss)

Prompt: 20)“The only time a man should be fast is when he’s trying to dodge my bullets.” - 100 Dialogue Prompts for Mob Boss AUs

A/N: since NCT 127 have decided to attack us since Friday with all their day/night posts and whatever more things they still got in the back storage, I just gotta do some fics about the dark concept, cause like, yea XD. I asked my friend whose bias is Yuta to choose a prompt and so, here we are XD

Warnings: some form of harassment, cursing (it's Yuta) drinking, spiked drink and hint of kidnapping

It was a Friday night and you were more than excited to finally have some time off to hang out with your boyfriend, Yuta, who was also part "gang leader" of NCT, an infamous group that people thought do illegal doings when they're the ones shutting the illegal businesses down.

Yuta being Yuta didn't disclose what he did from the beginning. But he also never fully tell you everything which, is understandable, it was confidential information. Despite so, Yuta never restricted your movements and you both would have some normal cafe dates, picnic dates, etc. Even so, there will be times where Yuta would have you do some personal training that includes self-defence, quizzes about types of chemicals, guns, etc. In his defense, he just wants you to be prepared should something goes wrong and you're alone.

Despite following Yuta's needs, you would sometimes joke about how it won't happen or that Yuta will make sure it wouldn't go too far or even if anything did happen, you were sure that Yuta would eventually find a way to make things right. Boi, were you in for a treat.

As mentioned, you were finally going to have a night out with Yuta after so long and had just finished getting ready when you received a text from Yuta saying, "hey love, sorry this is super last minute but could you change into a more black-tie dress code? We are sort of having a business dinner tonight and I want to bring you as my date. I'm on my way to pick you up right now. Don't worry, you don't have to put on anything you're uncomfortable cause whatever you wear, you still look hot to me ;)"

So of course you did what Yuta asked. You changed into a simple long black dress that fitted your figure and touched up your makeup a bit more and let your hair down. As you were putting on the last of your accessories and about to put your shoes on, Yuta was already ringing the bell. You quickly opened the door for him and told him that you were just going to put your shoes on which Yuta chuckled and helped you as he saw you struggling.

"You didn't have to go all out and wear heels babe, you'll have sore feet by the end of the night" Yuta mentioned, holding you steady as you were putting on your heels

"I mean, if it's just dinner, I'll just be sitting either way. You so owe me with a pizza movie night next week" you complained, finally putting your shoes

"Anything for you babe. Let's go" Yuta smiled, bringing your arm wrapped around his and helped you get into the car before he went to the driver's seat

Arriving at the dinner, you felt out of place since this was the first time Yuta actually brought you. Noticing your nervous state, Yuta wrapped his arm over your shoulder, telling you that he'll be right beside you unless you need to go to the restroom or need some personal space.

Nodding, Yuta gave you a heartwarming smile and brought you around. First and foremost, to his other members that were joining the dinner, the people you knew the week you and Yuta started dating. Allowing some weight off since how worried you were.

"Oh, (Y/N)!! Welcome!! Hope Yuta didn't force you to come here" Johnny greeted you which Yuta gave him a glare

"Well, he sorta promised me for a pizza movie night date next week, so I guess it's a winwin" you replied, chuckling

"Oooh, can we come? I miss just watching movies on the weekend" Jungwoo requested, pulling out his puppy eyes

"Maybe if you find yourself a girlfriend, I'd consider it" Yuta hissed, you hit him playfully

"Hey (Y/N), sometimes I wonder what you see in Yuta. He's so aggressive" Jungwoo joked as Taeyong tried to calm everyone and directed everyone to their table since dinner was starting

Dinner surprisingly went well and the opposing business partners were actually cooperating; like, they would agree to what NCT were asking, even giving some suggestions for the corporation. But nevertheless, every NCT member were on their best guard; heck, they all had their guns rested by their hips and even knifes hidden within their clothing.

Seeing how the talk about the business bore you, you took a big sip off of the drink the waiter had just poured for you. Suddenly feeling the urge to go to the bathroom, you excused yourself from everyone at the table, nodding your head when Yuta told you to immediately come back once you're done.

However, you didn't go to the bathroom because of the urge to pee or anything. Instead, it's because you didn't feel too good, maybe the alcohol in your drink was a bit too much to your tolerance but whether you want to admit it or not, you didn't feel good and felt like you could pass out at any second.

After purging and sitting down for a bit, you felt slightly better but not good enough because everything around you was tilted. Taking a deep breath, you just kept on thinking how the dinner table wasn't that far and if you hurry, you can just make it to Yuta's side and pass out however you like.

Pulling whatever willpower you have left, you stood up and started to walk out of the bathroom. Holding onto the wall, you slowly walked down the hall back to your table, until someone came up to you, asking if you were alright which you told them that you were fine. You may be dizzy and not feeling good, but you surely weren't dumb nor were you drunk.

Despite the guy saying that all he wanted to do was to help you, you clearly knew that wasn't his true intention since he was gripping you a bit too much to your liking. You've tried pushing him away but that only made his grip tighter. And to top it off, instead of helping you to your actual table or at least asking where your table was, he brought you to a more quiet area; making your heart beat quicker.

Unfortunately, at this point, whatever was in your drink was sinking it and you slowly start to lose consciousness and hope as from what you can see, you were far from your table. But thank the universe because all of a sudden you hear a loud ring and the tight grip was gone; instead, it was replaced by a warm embrace.

"Get him out of here before I actually kill him right here and now" you heard Yuta's stern voice commanding his other members

"I got you, baby. Let's get you back home, hmm?" you heard Yuta's voice turned soft; not having any more energy, you just nodded and fell asleep in his embrace

Because Yuta felt he can't leave you alone nor not torment the people that hurt you, he decided to bring you back to NCT's place. Wiping off your makeup and putting on your skincare for you, Yuta had one of the maids help change your clothes and then he tucked you in bed; not leaving your side until he's convinced that you're fully asleep before leaving a gentle kiss on your forehead then quietly leaving the room.

Walking out of the room, he saw Jeno and Jaemin, asking them to guard your room until he gets back. Making his way to the basement, he met with the NCT members that joined the dinner that did not end well at all.

Turns out, not long after you left, the neos already had a bad feeling; that something was not right, especially since their "business partners" were eyeballing the situation around them and it was revealed that the dinner was just a cover-up and that they were planning to use you to get to the neos, which clearly did not end well for them.

"Is she alright?" Taeyong asked, seeing Yuta was fuming

"She's very much passed out the second I found her. Are they all in there?" Yuta questioned strictly

"Yea. All tied up and blindfolded on the ground" Johnny mentioned

"Good" Yuta smirked, slamming the door open, making the prisoners jerked in surprise

"Rise and shine motherf*ckers. I hope you're ready for what's coming" Yuta shouted as some of the neos took their blindfolds off

"And y'all call yourselves men. Tch. You guys may be agile but not agile enough. The only time a man should be fast is when he’s trying to dodge my bullets. Not getting caught by their enemies. And surely not looking or thinking to do anything to another person's girlfriend. Oh well, what's done is done. Be lucky that we all got there in time. But, that doesn't mean I'll go easy on you. Let's see...should I start off with your fingers because you touched my girl or your head for ever thinking that little stunt of yours. Either way, I'm definitely going to take my time with you all" Yuta ranted, a smirk forming on his face as he saw the horror of his prisoners while the neos put their blindfolds back on

A/N: yeap, this turned out longer than expected. Welp, this is what happens when NCT updates with a dark concept I guess XD

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lastxviolet · 3 years

Text

Madripoor is for Lovers - Ch. 1

Summary: Y/N is a SWORD agent recruited to help Sam and Bucky track down Karli and the super-soldiers. When Helmut Zemo joins the team, he takes a special interest in her. The friendly union is wrought for disaster, but then things take a turn for the worst when Y/N is taken as collateral. Will Zemo keep her forever? Does she even want to escape? And what happened in Madripoor that made the whole thing so complicated?

Warnings: 18+ / eventual smut / kidnapping

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32878015/chapters/81589774

“Don’t scream,” a voice whispered in your ear, low and slow. “I do not wish to harm you.”

His hand wrapped around your mouth and the other snaked around your waist. The cool metal of a gun pressed into your ribs. He pulled you tight and fast against his body with ease.

You knew who it was, of course. It was the only person in the room not fighting in the pit of madness. The duel between a super soldier, the new Captain America, and the Dora Milaje hadn't been tempting. But it’d been him to grab your arm to pull you away from the fighting when Sam had yelled for help and now you knew why.

“Don’t do this,” you hissed against his hand.

Zemo pulled you backward, inch by agonizing inch.

You clicked your heels against the floor hoping to knock something over along the way. Anything to get Sam and Bucky’s attention. No one even glanced your way.

“None of that, Liebling,” he whispered, lips brushing your ear. His grip on your waist tightened as you passed through the bathroom threshold. What was worse, you wondered. Seeing your team; your friends disappear behind the closed double doors. Or the goosebumps from Zemo’s breath hot on your neck.

With his gun aimed at you, he knelt near the bathtub and pushed it aside to reveal an escape hatch in the floor. You watched him unlatch it and then smirk, surprised that his plan was going so well. That smirk made your blood boil.

“I’m more hassle than I’m worth,” you warned, casting a hesitant glance down the manhole.

He motioned for you to jump down first. “But you are excellent collateral.”

The noise of battle continued beyond the doors, much to your disappointment. They weren’t going to notice in time. Sam and Bucky had looked out for you but their alliance superseded any with you. Sam had only known you for a few months, and Bucky even less. You shot a prayer into the ether that they'd think of you if only this one time.

“You overestimate my importance to them,” you hissed.

Zemo looked up with dark and serious eyes. Usually, when aimed at you, they were less so. You wouldn't have considered him a friend, by any means. But in the last few weeks, he'd become a quiet, witty companion, who infuriated you less than most. Especially when Sam and Bucky spent most of the mission bickering about the plans you had made.

“Perhaps you underestimate yourself,” he cooed, shaking his head.

Sewage stink hit your senses immediately. This would not be pleasant. The drop was too short to give you the time to make a run for it. A second after your feet hit the ground, Zemo returned his gun to your head, with a smile.

“This way.”

Fighting was pointless, that much you knew. You hadn’t been recruited by Sam for your fighting abilities, as Zemo hadn’t been recruited for his. You were handy with a gun but tracking and strategy were your specialties. They’d taken you far in the military, and then as an anomaly investigator and agent with SWORD. And now, they’d brought you here, kidnapped, with a gun to your head in the back of Zemo’s car.

The driver was off towards the airstrip without any further commotion. You watched the road behind you, hopeful to see Sam or Bucky run up on the car. You could've even settled for a Dora Milaje with murder in their eyes and Zemo’s name on their tongue but it was empty.

Once on the plane, you sat in the furthest seat towards the back. Angry, hurt, and nervous, because despite all the warning bells, you’d trusted him. There was clear hatred between your teammates and Zemo but it was different between the two of you. You had no past or grudges against one another. It was silly now to think that that made you believe that there was an understanding.

“I hope you don’t think me indecent,” he murmured, gesturing to an opaque scarf in his hands. He avoided your gaze before wrapping it around your face. “But it would be unwise for me to trust you with my location. You are too intelligent for your own good.”

“Is it normal for wardens to flatter their prisoners,” you hissed, hoping to land a blow.

You heard him sit in the seat across from you and felt his foot brush yours as he crossed his legs.

“Prisoner,” he chuckled. “You are my guest Y/N and I hope that in time, you will find that I can be an excellent host.”

“In time,” you repeated, weighing the consequences of not putting up a fight when you could. How long did he plan to keep you?

He was quiet then, and so were you. The choice of words lingering between you. It wasn't until after takeoff that he spoke again. A glimpse of his face would've given you the clues you desired but the tone of his words was enough. His exhaustion from relentless thought weighed his voice to a deep baritone. Sluggish and soft.

“I have no intention of living the rest of my days in a cell,” he whispered finally.

You couldn't feel bad for him, especially when his freedom came at the cost of your own. It was clear then that confidence and swagger were a disguise, for survival. You’d seen glimmers of the real pain lurking beneath the smirks and fur coat but you hadn’t thought that he’d let it win. It wasn't a disappointment but somewhat a relief to go toe to toe with the real man.

“You can’t run forever,” you reminded him in a soft tone, trying to coax the shadow of humanity left in him out further.

“Ah,” he sighed. “It feels nice to know that you can be wrong, Y/N. For a moment, I doubted that you were human.”

The words lit an angry fire inside you. You couldn’t see him but almost heard the cavalier shrug he threw in for effect. The fabric over your eyes covered the tops of your cheeks hiding the angry flush. You hated him for making this complicated. You hated yourself even more, for not screaming when you had the chance.

Except for the occasional page turn, the rest of the ride was silent, which was unusual for the two of you. There’d been an instant dialogue since the very first time you’d met a few weeks ago. Since then, quiet moments had been rare.

________

The Baron’s private plane had landed an hour ago, but no one was on the tarmac yet. It’d taken you, Sam, and Bucky that long to come to terms with the uniforms chosen for the night.

“You know you don’t have to Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes and glared at Sam through the small airplane mirror.

“I’m fine,” you reassured him before going back to gawking at the dress. Tight but not too short, seeing as you were posing as a baroness tonight in the mission to Madripoor. Sheer black fabric slung over one shoulder, sewn onto a bustier underneath. Simple. Elegant. You’d never worn anything like it.

Sam shook his head, mumbling something about this being a bad idea.

“It’s better than the Air Force uniform,” you smiled, knowing full well that that’d get at least a chuckle out of him. It did, earning the both of you a glare from Bucky who was the worst off tonight.

“No time like the present,” Zemo called from the front of the plane. The men left you, bickering about whose outfit was worse. You tried to follow but the only piece of jewelry, a silver charm necklace, put up a fight.

“Allow me?”

Zemo’s voice made you jump. He leaned against the door, with a hand outstretched towards you. Now that half the audience to entertain was gone, he looked more forlorn; less self-assured.

You nodded, moving your hair out of the way before handing the necklace to him. He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.

He did that a lot you had realized. After the fireworks at the beginning of the ride, he’d turned his attention to you. Smile bright, but the eye’s dead. One would think small talk was his forte but you knew better. It is an easy distraction; a way to put your opposition at ease. Regardless, you couldn't blame him for seeking to charm the only one on the flight that did not hate him.

“I don’t think that we met,” he’d stated, settling into the seat across from you. “Last time.”

“Don’t talk to her,” Bucky hissed. You knew he was trying to help but you waved him off, giving him a look that said ‘someone has to talk to him.’

“No, I’m new,” you’d told him, squinting at the artificial grin that didn’t leave his face. You guessed that conversation was difficult to come by in prison. It was a pity that he was an evil mastermind. His ability to fake friendliness rivaled the most talented US agents.

“How new?”

“A few weeks before you.”

His eyes twinkled at your commonality. They bore into yours, trying to decipher what you know of what he'd done. This look was how you knew the stories of his genius, were true. They scanned and shifted, guessing that you knew it all with one look. He was right, of course, and you thought that would be the end of it. Then, he surprised you. He asked about your family, schooling, job, passions, and interests. He spoke about the books he’d had in prison, and you teased him for even reading The Prince.

He smiled wider and wider as you spoke until Sam shot you a glare and you gave the Baron some excuse about sleep. But even when you closed your eyes, and curled up into the seat, you’d felt his eyes remain on your face.

Warm hands against your neck brought you out of the trance and back to the man who you should hate.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, watching his somber expression in the reflection.

“The sigil is — was, my family’s,” he stated, coming around to face you and fiddle with the charm. “You are playing the part of a baroness, after all. We need to make it believable.”

His lips curled into a soft smile at the royal word. A chill ran down your spine. Even though your conversation had been short, you hadn’t meant to enjoy it so much. Conversation was like pulling teeth with most of the people you knew, especially Sam and Bucky. And even when it came, it didn’t flow like this.

“There are worse roles,” you mused, shooting him a soft smile in return. “I could have to play the part of the mind-controlled assassin, or worse, the evil baron.”

He smirked. “Strenuous, yes. I have found that there is nothing more difficult to be, than yourself.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“You find it easy, to be yourself?”

“No, I don’t think that you are what you want us to believe.”

The words seemed to catch him off guard and you wondered the last person to show him any kindness was. Not that your words were kind.

Sam yelled some threat from the cabin about Zemo keeping his hands off of you, and you knew that your time was up. You ignored the pang of disappointment and looked up at the Baron's stone eyes.

“I am afraid that I will prove you wrong Y/N.”

You nodded and followed him out into the cold evening.

Low town was the target and as the four of you walked, the air was tense.

You nudged Bucky. “You ok?”

“Never better,” he sighed through gritted teeth.

A car appeared on the fluorescent bridge you were crossing as Zemo took his position next to you. Bucky stood on the other side of him, silent since you’d all marched out of the plane. You couldn't tell if it was memory that hardened his eyes or tonight’s assignment.

“You’re Bucky Barnes, born 1917,” you reminded the sullen soldier. “No more, no less.”

Zemo’s eyes squinted at your words, no doubt in disagreement but you avoided his gaze.

Bucky nodded and gave you a half-smile. It was as much as he could muster, especially when he had to become something he was trying so hard to forget. People have a way of finding their way back to themselves in time and you wondered how long he had left to go. The man who fought in WW2 was different from the man who fought against the Avengers. Both versions of him were different still from the man who'd turned silent in recent years.

“No matter what happens, we have to stay in character,” Zemo instructed as a car appeared on the bridge. “Our lives depend on it. There is no margin for error.”

You prepared yourself for the night ahead where you would look at the Baron with lust. It would feel strange to see him as something other than interesting and distrustful. Attraction to him was not far-fetched. He had a strong face and a sultry accent, but you stood on opposite sides of the moral spectrum in the end. Unfortunately, your realism in love hadn’t left you very open to romantic connections. From the little experience you had, it was clear that couples didn’t work if they didn't have a common goal. Yours was not the destruction of your friends and his was not to make the world a better place.

An arm snaked around your waist, cutting off the train of thought. You jumped and looked wide-eyed at Zemo.

“We are newlyweds, yes?”

His words sounded more like a question but a smile played on his lips. You nodded, unfamiliar with the feel of a confident man at your side.

“Right,” you confirmed, being the first one to break eye contact.

The car doors opened and you knew the driver was the first person to judge the performance. You let Zemo pull you towards the car and then hesitated as he walked to the passenger side. You glanced to the middle seat between Bucky and Sam in the back. Sensing your hesitation, Zemo pulled you close.

“Your performance has begun, Baroness Zemo.”

You smiled like he’d whispered a sweet nothing in your ear and drew close to return the favor.

“I’d keep my last name,” you breathed, earning a soft chuckle.

Despite the nerves, you let him pull you into his lap and tried your best to look lovesick. It wasn’t as difficult as you thought as his large hands held your waist, and one of your legs. He looked ahead, with a smug smile and ran small circles on your bare leg. The rush of goosebumps and the hitch of your breath gave you away within seconds. His smug smile turned devious in the reflection on the window.

“Das hast wunderschöne Augen.”

He whispered into the side of your head. You didn’t speak German, and even if you did, you doubted you'd want to hear something mundane or rude. Yet you could feel the hammering of your heart in each fingertip as he spoke in his native language.

A performance you reminded yourself. Two could play at whatever he was doing. You turned to glare at him before bringing a hand up to caress his cheek. The light scruff tickled your knuckles and you wondered what he’d look like with a beard. His brand of handsome wasn't rugged, even when he'd escaped the prison, he looked neat and clean. You rested your head against his shoulder and continued stroking his rounded cheeks. Being a few inches away from his face gave you a chance to study his features. It’d be good practice if you ever had to pick him out of a fleeing crowd, or a Madripoor police lineup.

Other powerful engines surrounded the car. Motorcycles with nosy drivers appeared in each window. He gripped your thigh harder, warning that the stakes were high, even here and it had to look real. A heat manifested between your legs, followed by a throbbing that you hoped he wouldn’t notice. It didn’t feel so much like an act anymore and in truth when ran your fingers through his hair, you did it out of desire. He sucked in a breath and gripped your waist like iron. The stern man didn't seem so impenetrable anymore, as your lips brushed his ear, following a sloppy pattern along his jaw. You ran your fingers through his hair roughly again and felt a slight gasp leave him. His eyes left the windows and found yours. Serious and challenging. His hand moved up towards the hem of your dress. The fabric put up less of a fight than you as he gripped your bare ass. He felt the heat then, releasing a noise from the back of his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed and your kissing became frantic. Your lips buzzed from the pressure and his five o’clock shadow. His lips parted in anticipation but before you could make it, the car stopped.

Zemo released you immediately, nodding an apology to the driver. Pity, you thought, it felt like you were finally making him a little nervous.

Sam and Bucky averted their eyes as the group walked through the streets, trying to look normal. Again, Zemo slung an arm around your waist. You took this as your cue to drape yourself on his shoulder. He stared ahead like this was a death march and that a guillotine stood on the other side of the door with his name on it. He’d been here before, you remembered. The memories couldn’t have been pleasant judging by the way his mouth pressed into a tense line. Empathy came over you and you reached out to slip a hand under his coat to rest on his chest.

This broke the trance and he stared at you for a moment before a smug smile crept across his stone-cold expression. It would've annoyed you but not a second later, he reached up to hold your fingers against him. He pressed you into his sweater, rubbing each finger in an anxious pattern, the only sign of nerves at all. Even the heartbeat beneath his sweater was still steady and calm.

Zemo led you all through a packed crowd to a dim bar. The agent part of you wanted to stray from your role and look around to assess the situation. But your mind went blank as his hand dropped to your hip and guided you up against the bar. You faced a mirrored wall holding more extravagant bottles than you’d ever seen in your life.

Through the reflection, you watched Zemo claim ownership of his Baroness. Each of his hands gripped the railing on either side of you, pressing his chest into your exposed back. His large stature towered over you, but your eyes couldn't tear away from his hands. Their grip around the rounded corners was mesmerizing. In a flash, your brain conjured the image of him holding your legs apart with the same strength. You let out a shaking breath. The fur from his coat tickled your back, and you couldn't focus on his words to Sam as his breath hit your neck.

Disgruntled with the lack of vantage point, you turned in his arms, bringing your face a few inches from his. Intent on taking in the room, you rested your chin on his shoulder. People had noticed your group right away and hadn't stopped looking. You kept eye contact with some, all while kissing the Baron's neck. Only then, did you feel his heart rate quicken.

Zemo spoke to the bartender behind you, but you didn’t hear them. Again, he tested your boundaries by caressing your thigh underneath your short dress.

Newlyweds, you reminded yourself. Very horny, newlyweds.

Mesmerized by the raunchy crowd behind you, and the soft caress of his hand, you gave in again. You peppered wet kisses of longing against his jaw as he spoke to a man who’d come up on the other side of him. He swallowed hard but somehow, you doubted it was out of fear of the man that Bucky had in a chokehold a few moments later.

That was the last moment you remembered feeling calm that night. The moments after put your mission and lives in jeopardy. When the violence and fleeing had played out you'd realized that his hands had never left you. The safety of his grasp was far more dangerous than Madripoor. The feeling of relief when he’d found your waist again at Sharon’s party, had you kicking yourself.

“A very believable performance, Agent Y/N” he purred. “Well done.”

You smiled and glanced down at the few inches between the two of you. Drinking was not the best option tonight but it was too late. Vodka was already coursing through your veins.

“I’d call it compelling,” you smirked. “Not believable.”

He cocked his head to the side, eyeing you with curiosity and something else. Something ferocious that made you wonder why he didn’t have an army of devotees or a cult following. It was that look that made you question your willpower, for the first time ever.

“Why’s that?”

Exactly the question you’d been hoping for. He’d had the upper hand all night but that was going to change.

“Who would believe that I would actually fall for you,” you teased, tossing back the last of your drink.

That would’ve been the end of it for a lesser man but Zemo smiled, showing all his teeth. He was always intrigued by a challenge.

“Tell me, Y/N, who would you fall for?”

Your mouth went dry and although a smirk was still plastered to your lips, nerves rushed back in.

“As if I have time,” you laughed.

He returned the smile. “Gun to your head, then.”

The alcohol in your system whispered different answers. Irresponsible answers. Bringing them to fruition would give you more than you bargained for but you fought against them.

“I like nice men,” you whispered, watching his reaction. “Who don’t use animals for fashion.”

He chuckled and then a dark look passed over his face before he closed the gap between you. A step backward and you found yourself against a wall with nowhere to go. Zemo brought a hand to your neck, caressing the exposed skin and the chain resting there.

“Who says I am not a nice man?”

Now it was your turn to chuckle. “Your body count, history, profession…reputation.”

He nodded. “Ah, you mistake ambition and purpose for — cruelty.”

“I never said you were cruel. I know you don’t crave suffering. I know there was a reason…for what you did.”

He cocked his head again and pursed his lips, looking at you like a puzzle; something not yet solved.

The techno beat dissolved into a slower, bass-heavy, R&B song. The hand on your neck made its way down to your waist once again, pulling you in. You complied without a fight, letting the Baron lead you through a slow dance.

“Even I can be gentle,” he said after a while. “For you — I would even consider being sweet.”

The words sent shockwaves through your body, igniting every inch. He was a master of manipulation and a conniving son of a bitch who wanted your colleagues — friends, dead. And yet, your mind and body betrayed you. You squeezed him a little tighter and pulled in a little closer.

“And what about the fur coat,” you whispered, playing with the fuzzy material against his neck.

He surprised you with his laughter. He threw his head back in a genuine laugh and leaned into your neck to stifle the giggles.

“I have been in a prison jumpsuit for the last eight years, forgive me for my outdated fashion,” he cooed. You could feel the smirk against your skin.

“Is it real,” you asked, holding up the stupid furry flap.

“Of course. I am a Baron,” he responded, pulling you closer, staring at your lips.

#baron zemo #baron zemo x reader #baron zemo x you #the falcon & the winter soldier #baron zemo fic #zemo fic #zemo smut #zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo x you

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captainrogers-ass · 3 years

Text

Leather & Spice - Zemo x Reader One-Shot

Summary: You could never say no to a mission when it was Sam Wilson calling, yet cooperating with a convicted mass murderer hadn’t exactly been what you were expecting. Wounding, maiming, killing; those were all in your job description. Acting as Helmut Zemo’s lover was not.

Word Count: 4900

Pairings: Zemo x Reader, Sam x Reader (platonic), Bucky x Reader (platonic)

A/N: Ok so I know I’ve been super inactive and I know this isn’t strictly Chris Evans related but I’m currently obsessed with TFATWS; more specifically a certain mass murderer. I’ve substituted Serbian for Sokovian, although Zemo talks to Bucky in Russian. As always, any and all feedback is much appreciated. I hope you enjoy!!! Let me know if you want a part 2!!!

The call had been tense, brief, and widely lacking in any important information, and yet you had still gone anyway.

No matter how many times the Avengers had screwed you over you couldn’t help yourself when Sam Wilson called. Your resistance was futile. He was too charming to say no to, and you were pretty sure he was perfectly well aware of that.

The private jet had been a nice surprise in all honesty. Sam had seemingly always had a knack for finding the seediest alleyway or dingiest motel room to meet up in whenever he called for your help, so you couldn’t help but smile at the change in scenery. Your boots clicked loudly on the tarmac below as you approached the plane, your hand pausing as it connected with the railing of the stair car, a small smile escaping onto your lips as you tried to contain your unusual excitement.

A butler with greying hair and aged skin greeted you at the entrance to the plane. He was dressed in a neat, black suit and smiled at you kindly upon your arrival, his arms already extended as he motioned towards your luggage.

“Oh, thank you,” you said with a smile as you handed over your bag.

The cabin was lovely; spacious, lavish and filled with two grown men who were currently too enthralled in their escalating argument to take any notice of your arrival.

Bucky and Sam were sitting next to each other; Bucky slumped over within his seat with his arms folded across his chest, Sam perched at the edge of his own seat, his hands raised passionately before him as he berated Bucky in a tone that was clearly trying to stay relatively calm but was miserably failing. You cleared your throat as a small smile escaped onto your lips; these two hadn’t changed one bit.

Sam’s eyes met yours first.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, immediately rising from his seat and striding the few steps towards you, engulfing you in a hug. “I wasn’t sure, you’d come. I haven’t seen you in so long!”

You laughed as you managed to extract yourself from Sam’s embrace.

“You know I can never say no to you, Sam,” you chuckled.

“It’s because I’m too handsome, right?”

“Sure.”

You turned your attention to Bucky who was now standing just slightly back from Sam, their argument apparently forgotten as Bucky smiled kindly towards you.

“Hey there stranger,” you said as you gave Bucky a brief hug.

“And here I was thinking I was the most antisocial person I knew,” he retorted.

“I haven’t been avoiding you two, I promise. I’ve just been busy.”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “With whatever it is you do.”

You laughed but didn’t answer his implied question.

“This jet is a nice touch. How in the hell did you afford this?” you questioned.

The atmosphere changed immediately, the smile on your features faltering slightly as you felt the tension rise around you. Bucky turned his eyes to the floor, his figure hunching over slightly so that he looked far smaller than he usually appeared. Sam averted his gaze as well, instead turning to look at something past your shoulder.

“It’s mine actually. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Having worked in secret services your entire life you found yourself quite shocked at having failed to notice the third man on board. There was no doubt that this man hadn’t been in the main cabin upon your arrival, but having failed to recognise his presence until he spoke was an unusual oversight on your part; especially since he was standing quite close to you.

As you turned around you registered three things before your eyes landed upon him. Firstly, his accent was unusual, captivating and alluring, not one that you could outright recognise on an initial introduction alone. Secondly, his cologne was extraordinarily enticing; a dark, spicy smell that washed over you and filled your senses all at once so that you couldn’t help but inhale deeply to try and get another whiff of it. And thirdly, his presence was remarkable. Even before you looked upon him you could tell that this was a man of wealth; his tone, his posture, his cologne, his everything, oozed sophistication.

And then your eyes met his.

“I’m Helm-”

Before he could finish you grabbed the hand he had been in the process of outstretching for a handshake, twisted it behind his back before shoving him up against the wall of the plane with quite possibly a tad more force than was strictly necessary. A grunt escaped his lips as you did so, but whether it was from pain or surprise you couldn’t tell.

“Y/N!” Bucky and Sam yelled in unison.

“Would someone care to explain to me why there is a convicted criminal on board this plane.” Your voice came out far calmer than you were expecting.

“Well it is my pla-”

“Shut up,” you, Bucky and Sam all said in unison.

You pushed his contorted arm higher and a flicker of pain crossed his features for just a second, yet he remained silent. His face was pressed against the wall, your body weight holding him in place, and yet his eyes were trained on you, a piercing blend of hazel and gold that sent a shiver down your spine. He wasn’t resisting at all—which was surprising considering he could probably overpower you with his military history—and he no longer made any obvious outward indication that he was in pain even though the placement of his arm would suggest otherwise.

“We need him, Y/N,” Sam finally spoke up.

You struggled to pull your gaze from his, lingering for what felt like years.

“And his life-long prison sentence just happened to be up, I suppose?” you replied.

You couldn’t quite tell, but the subtle vibrations coming from Zemo made you think that he was laughing.

“Well, Bucky was the one who actually broke him ou-” Sam began.

“Oh yeah blame it on me,” Bucky exclaimed.

“Were you not the one who broke him out?”

“You know we needed him I was just the-”

“Ok, ok, boys,” you interrupted. “I really don’t care whose fault it is. What’s done is done. But will someone please explain why the hell we need a mass murderer’s help?”

“Well, there’s this new terrorist organisation called the Flagsmashers,” Sam began.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Zemo interrupted. You pushed him up against the wall harder but he continued on unfazed. “But I feel like this story is going to take a while so is there any possibility that I can have the function of my arm back, please?”

There was that accent again, so unusual and yet so smooth that it took you a few seconds to actually register what the man was saying. You glared at him for several seconds but eventually loosened your grip.

Immediately turning around, Zemo brought his hand up to rub at the arm that had been angled uncomfortably behind his back, his gaze never leaving yours. Your eyes travelled down his figure, taking in the luxurious coat draped around his shoulders, the well-tailored purple turtleneck underneath that shaped his frame well, and the expensive-looking black gloves that clung to his fingers. When your eyes returned to his a smile was peeking through onto his lips.

“As I was saying before, I’m Helmut Zemo.” You noticed that he didn’t extend his hand a second time for a handshake. “But I take it you already knew that…Y/N, is it?”

You didn’t answer, simply continuing to stare at him through slitted eyelids.

“I would say it is a pleasure to meet you,” he began again, making his way over to a small bar cart as he poured himself a drink. “But it was actually a surprisingly painful introduction.”

Extending a gloved hand towards you Zemo offered you a glass of the brown liquid. With some hesitation you accepted, your eyes never leaving his as your hand brushed over his gloved one.

Tearing your gaze from his you made your way to the seat in front of where Sam and Bucky had been previously sitting. Taking a sip from your drink you motioned for the two men to reclaim their seats.

“So, tell me about these Flagsmashers.”

“If we have to do something about this, I’m the only one that looks like a pimp,” Sam commented, looking down to admire the colourfully decorated suit he was wearing.

The four of you were currently walking across an empty bridge, the lights of the bustling city burning bright in the distance.

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward black man looks like a pimp. You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing; a sophisticated, charming, African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger,” Zemo replied, passing his phone to Sam, a photo lighting up the screen.

“He even has a bad nickname. Hell, he does look like me though.”

You walked closer to Sam, leaning over his shoulder to get a look at the picture. You laughed slightly to yourself.

“You sure you don’t have some alter ego you’re not telling us about?” you questioned.

“Ha, ha,” Sam responded dryly.

“So then who am I supposed to be?” you asked Zemo. “Some stunningly beautiful millionaire who also happens to look exactly like me, I presume?”

The sarcasm was obvious in your tone and yet you were still surprised at the small laugh that left Zemo’s lips. It was deep, dark, and didn’t last very long, but it was charming. You turned away from him and looped your arm through Sam’s instead, pretending to need assistance with walking from the six-inch heels Zemo had you wear.

The dress he had presented to you on the plane was surprisingly stunning. It was black and fell just above your ankles, a large slit running up the left side of the fabric and a cowling neckline that accentuated your figure perfectly. The back was low, the straps criss-crossing across your shoulders doing little to provide any solace from the evenings cold wind.

“In a sense I suppose that is correct,” Zemo responded. “You will be playing the role of my date.”

Your head whipped around to stare at him.

“Excuse me?”

Bucky and Sam tried in vain to hide their snickers. You punched Sam lightly in the arm.

“The Smiling Tiger, the Winter Soldier and I all have reputations that we can rely on here in Madripoor. Nobody knows who you are Y/N and that makes you the most valuable person here. By limiting you to just my date people will begin to underestimate you which makes you a valuable asset if things begin to go South.”

His words made sense and yet you refused to admit it.

“He’s not wrong, Y/N,” Sam whispered to you.

“I think if Bucky can pretend to be the Winter Soldier,” Zemo continued. “Then you will be perfectly capable of pretending to be my date.”

“No, I think Y/N still got the short straw here,” Bucky said, causing you and Sam to begin to snicker as a scowl appeared on Zemo’s face.

A black car began to approach you on the bridge, pulling up beside you. Just before you could open the door a gloved hand enclosed around the handle.

“Allow me, draga.”

He opened the door and motioned for you to enter. You met his gaze, raising an eyebrow up at him.

“I’m not your date just yet.”

“A lady should always be treated with respect whether she is one’s date or not.”

You hadn’t been expecting a response, yet he had provided one so quickly and with such sincerity in his voice that you couldn’t help but furrow your eyebrows at him. Your gaze lingered upon his for several seconds before he provided you with a curt nod.

You entered the car without another word, Zemo following in behind you so that you were now sandwiched between him and Sam with Bucky sitting quite comfortably in the front seat.

The drive into town was mostly quiet. You enjoyed looking out the window at the bright city, mesmerised by all the neon signs and blinding lights. The streets were riddled with guns; hidden in holsters on people’s hips, tucked into the backs of pants, or simply waved around nonchalantly. You checked the holster attached to your thigh for good measure.

Glancing into the rear-view mirror you could have sworn that you had met Zemo’s gaze for a split second, but with a blink of your eyes his head was now directed out the window, his gaze fixated on the passing buildings. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, but returned your gaze to the window once more without a word.

The streets were crawling with criminals when you reached the bar. Guns were being waved around as if they were a fashion accessory and blatant felonies were being conducted out in the open with no attempt to conceal anything.

Zemo exited the car first, and as you scooted across the seat to make your own exit you found that familiar gloved hand was already extended towards you. Looking up, your eyes met his, taking his hand without a word. You were now in character and you were going to play the role as best you could.

You didn’t let go of Zemo’s hand as he helped you from the car. Instead, after waiting for him to close the door behind you, you looped your arm through his as you had done to Sam only minutes previously, this time leaning into him much more closely than you had done with your friend.

If Zemo was surprised at your gentle touch he did not show it. Instead he flexed his arm to bring you slightly closer before leading you, Bucky and Sam into the bar. As soon as you had exited the car it seemed as if the whole street had their eyes on you. Your heart fluttered nervously in your chest, but your features remained neutral even as your eyes roamed freely around your surroundings.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” you whispered to Zemo. “But I think you should’ve given me something a bit more revealing to wear. This dress is beautiful, but I look so out of place.”

Zemo turned to you with a smile on his face.

“Any woman on my arm will always be dressed in the finest of silks. It would be far more suspicious if I made you wear a more revealing dress, trust me.”

His voice was low as he spoke to you, his gaze fixated on you as he smiled cheekily.

Your heart fluttered nervously once more.

The bar was loud, hot and filled with half-drunk people rubbing their private parts against each other. The popular neon lights trickled in to the establishment, casting contrasting shadows of yellow and red across the space.

A bartender greeted you as you approached the bar, his face stoic and void of emotion.

“Hello gentlemen,” he nodded towards Sam. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

Zemo answered for him.

“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby.”

The bartender turned to Sam.

“The usual?”

Sam nodded.

When the bartender returned with a snake and began to gut it right in front of you you couldn’t help the small smile that crept up onto your face when you realised what was happening.

“Ah,” Zemo began, “Smiling Tiger, your favourite.”

His tone was slightly mocking and it nearly caused you to burst out laughing right there, but you managed to retain your composure. Sam turned with a resentful look on his face to see you and Zemo trying to hide the smiles that were creeping on to your faces.

“I love these,” Sam said as he raised the glass to you.

You leaned your head on to Zemo’s shoulder in an attempt to hide your snickers. Sam clinked his glass against Zemo’s, and after some hesitation, downed the shot in one.

The smile was wiped from your face as you felt a presence approach you from behind, struggling against the instinct to reach for your weapon. Zemo felt you still beside him and immediately turned to meet the approaching man, placing you slightly behind him.

“I got word from on high,” the man said. “You ain’t welcome here.”

Zemo’s voice sounded nonchalant as he responded.

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists he can either come and talk to me,” Zemo looked behind him to where Bucky was standing.

“New haircut?” the man said to Bucky with a scoff.

Zemo’s voice was deep and demanding, grasping the man’s attention once more, “Or bring Selby for a chat.”

The man left but now your senses were on high alert as Zemo turned back to talk to Bucky. Your eyes scoured the room, noticing several men beginning to approach you. Slowly your hand began to travel down to your gun.

“Not yet, dušica.” Zemo’s gaze turned to Bucky just as one of the approaching men placed his hand upon Zemo’s shoulder. “Zimniy soldat. Ataka.”

Without hesitating Bucky grabbed the arm of the man who had touched Zemo, bending it painfully backwards. You watched on with bated breath, worried for your friend as he reverted back to what he once was, not because he wasn’t able to handle the fight—he wasn’t even breaking a sweat as he took on three guys at once—but because of what this little act might have on all the progress he had made.

Your gaze flickered to Zemo for a split second to find that he was smiling.

“It didn’t take long for him to fall back into form,” he whispered to you.

Ever since this trip had begun you had slowly started to become desensitised to the fact that you were in the presence of a mass murderer, often forgetting at times that the man before you had caused so much pain and suffering. But now it hit you all at once, causing you to become quite repulsed by the presence beside you.

Wanting to remove yourself from his side but knowing that you couldn’t you instead leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“If you smile again from Bucky’s pain, I’ll punch your teeth in so that when I burn you to death they won’t be able to use your dental records to identify your body.”

To say that Zemo was surprised at your comment was an understatement as he whipped his head around to look at you, his mask of composure forgotten for a split second as his eyes met yours. He didn’t respond, but the look in his eyes told you that he had not been expecting such a response. His gaze fell to the floor and you thought, just for a second, that maybe he was about to apologise, but when his eyes came back to look at you his mouth remained closed.

He noticed the change in your attitude immediately. Whilst you did not disentangle your arm from his, you now distanced yourself as far as you could from his side, your touch no longer the comfortable presence he had begun to enjoy, now cold and impersonal.

The sounds of guns being cocked brought your attention back to the room.

“Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us,” Zemo quickly whispered to Bucky. “Otlichnaya rabota, soldat,” he said louder.

Everyone in the bar paused as Bucky let go of the man he had been in the process of choking.

“Selby will see you now,” the bartender interrupted.

A small sigh of relief escaped from your lips.

The back room was poorly lit and smelt of alcohol and cigarettes, the wall to your left illuminated by small televisions that displayed the security camera footage from all over the bar.

Selby—a middle aged, menacing looking woman with short, platinum blonde hair—was sitting upon one of the luxurious couches, dressed in an ill-fitting suit with a loosely tied tie hanging around her neck.

“You should know, Baron,” she began, tapping her hand against the head of the couch. “People don’t just come into my bar and make demands.”

“Not a demand,” Zemo responded. “An offer.”

Zemo took a seat on the couch opposite to Selby’s, his hand in yours as he motioned for you to sit next to him. You paused for just a second before perching yourself so that you were instead sitting in his lap. As much as you didn’t want to be in this position, when you went undercover you did it well. Zemo’s face showed no hint of surprise, but his hands fumbled for a split second, unsure of where to place them before he rested one on your waist and one on your thigh, quite high up so that he was basically at your knee. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed and you found yourself quite surprised at his willingness to respect your boundaries.

Selby raised an eyebrow at you.

“A lot has changed since you were last here,” she said, her gaze now fixated on you. It made you feel uncomfortable, but you didn’t show it as you leaned back into Zemo’s touch. “By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?”

Zemo’s gloved hand began rubbing circles on your knee, your skin exposed from the slit in the dress. You were pretty sure he wasn’t aware he was doing it, but you weren’t altogether against the touch.

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” he responded. “I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for.”

“What’s the offer.”

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum, and I give you him.” Zemo’s gaze turned to Bucky who remained stoic and impassive in the corner of the room. “Along with the code words to control him, of course.”

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember. I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately.” She paused as she considered the offer. “You were right to seek me out. The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank…or condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on.”

“Is Nagel still in Madripoor?” Zemo questioned.

“Oh, the breadcrumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron.” Selby’s gaze shifted to Bucky before it returned to land on you. “Who is this beautiful creature you’ve got with you?”

You felt Zemo stiffen beneath you.

“Ah,” he began, his voice somehow having grown deeper. “This one isn’t part of the deal. She’s mine.”

There was an intensity to the way he said mine. It was subtle, but it was there, and Selby noticed it as she quirked an eyebrow up at him.

“Are you sure about that, Baron?” she responded with a laugh. “These young creatures get so restless. Are you sure she’s not bored with you already?”

Zemo’s hand was now gripping your thigh a lot lower than where it had previously been and a lot harder; not so roughly that it hurt, but hard enough for you to realise that he was unsure of how to proceed. You turned your gaze to Selby who licked her lips as your eyes met hers, before turning your attention back to Zemo. He looked up towards you, a confused look flashing across his eyes as he tried to figure out what you were about to do. Having made your decision—and before you had enough time to really question what you were about to do—you leaned down towards the Baron and collided your lips with his.

Zemo hesitated at first, his lips unresponsive against yours for a split second before he returned the gesture. His hands came up to tangle themselves in your hair, your own hands gripping the base of his scalp. You slipped your tongue into his mouth and turned slightly so that Selby had a clear view.

You made sure the kiss was dirty and ferocious, and it left both of you breathless as you pulled away from him.

You turned to Selby with a smirk on your face, wiping some saliva from the corner of your mouth with the pad of your thumb as you maintained eye-contact with her.

“Not quite yet,” you said.

A viscous smile spread across her face but before Selby could respond Sam’s phone began to ring, and everything went downhill pretty quickly from there.

When the sniper shot came through the window you didn’t have time to be surprised, immediately leaping to your feet, gun already in hand. Before Selby’s henchmen had even had time to react you had already shot a bullet into two of their chests, Bucky taking out the third man in the room.

“We have a real problem now, so leave your weapons and follow my lead,” Zemo said, quickly making his way back down to the bar with you, Sam and Bucky close behind, your gun back in its concealed holster.

Descending the stairs quickly, Bucky leaned back with a smirk on his face.

"Told you you got the short straw."

Punching him in the arm to try to get him to shut up you quickly realised your mistake as you brought your hand to your chest, pain flaring in your knuckles at having collided with the vibranium. A short laugh escaped from Bucky's lips.

"Focus," Zemo called from the front of the group.

You made your way back on to the street quickly, following Zemo as he hastily walked in a direction that you hoped would get you off the main strip. Looking around you as you walked you kept noticing people getting notifications on their phones and a bad feeling began to grow in your stomach.

A round of bullets were shot towards you, the proximity of the bang causing your ears to ring painfully. All four of you ducked immediately as you scrambled away quickly. Bucky and Sam ran forwards and Zemo, grabbing your hand swiftly, veered off into a small alley way, his hand never leaving yours as he ran. The sound of several footsteps followed close behind you, but before you could reach for your gun Zemo crowded you into a small alcove.

“What are you doing? They’ll see us here,” you angrily whispered. Your hand began to reach for your gun once more but Zemo stopped you.

“There’s too many of them,” he said quickly, peeking out from behind the alcove to spy on the approaching men.

“We’re sitting ducks here. I can probably get a few shots out if-”

All at once Zemo whipped back around and placed his index finger upon your lips to stop you from speaking.

“I’m truly sorry for this.”

For the second time that night Helmut Zemo’s lips were now upon yours, kissing you far more softly than you had kissed him before. His body was crowding yours against the wall of the alley way, his broad form easily shielding you. The footsteps got closer and closer, all the while you kept kissing the Baron. This time there was no tongue, just gentle lips upon yours as he kissed you tenderly and slowly.

That cologne you had first smelt that morning engulfed your senses now so that it was all you could smell. Your hands came up to grip at the fur collar of his coat, pulling him closer by the furred lapel, and you couldn’t help but marvel at the softness of it.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you registered the approaching footsteps; how close they came to you before they past right by, the group of men not giving you a second glance as one shouted orders to the rest in a language you couldn't be bothered to recognise.

At some point Zemo's tongue ended up in your mouth, or maybe it was your tongue in his. Either way you couldn't recall who had initiated it, and couldn't quite find the effort to care. One of his hands came up to cup your cheek whilst the other became entangled within your hair, pulling at your roots slightly so that you moaned at the feeling.

You moaned.

Pushing the baron away from you you immediately put as much distance as you could between the two of you. His lips were red and swollen and you were quite sure yours looked the same, both panting slightly as the cold air illuminated your breaths.

You could feel your cheeks begin to redden immediately, and swiftly turned away from him to hide your embarrassment.

You could still hear the men who had been following you, their footsteps far quieter now as they continued down the alley.

“I think they’re gone,” you finally said, having allowed the awkward silence to grow palpable between you.

“Yes…yes I think you’re right,” he responded, not meeting your gaze.

The sound of footsteps coming down the alley filled your ears once more, and this time you didn’t hesitate as you pulled your gun from its holster.

“Woah, easy there tiger, it’s just us,” Sam said, his hands held upwards in a sign of surrender.

You let out a sigh as you saw them and immediately felt Zemo’s gaze fall upon you.

#zemo x reader #helmut zemo #baron helmut zemo #daniel brühl #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #MCU

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zuffer-weird-girl · 3 years

Text

Welcome back...

Tartarus was a mess. The world was a mess.

He didn't care. Not one bit. The pain on his forehead was nothing. He had been hitting that door just for someone to finally open his cell for him to get out, as soon as he heard the commotion that was happening on that prison.

He wasn't the same anymore. His pride long forgotten as he could only mutter 'father' in a state of desperation as he saw the chaos and tried to run.

His arms were missing but his legs weren't. So he ran as fast as he could. Leaving the prison as well as a bunch of criminals.

God... now that he knew it how much he fucking ruined his life... He didn't even know if the Shie Hassaikai was still working after his left. Oh who was he kidding..? Pops was in coma as he the supposed sucessor of the yakusa was arrested.

He heard the screams and shouts as he ran. The chaos was established... this was Shigaraki's plan? He didn't know neither could care at the moment.

He walked in a state of shock and traumatized as he started to see the city over a few kilometers away... Tartarus was located 5km away from the mainland and he was a tad bit impressed on how much he could run still after those hellish months he had to endure on that place.

It was the dead of the night, almost midnight he guessed, when he dragged his feet at the desert street. Maybe the city was in a state of lockdown after the prisoners of Tartarus escaped...

No single soul was in that street, walking in a state of misery. He could feel the drop of blood slidding down from the middle of his forehead to his chin... he wanted to at leats wipe it off, but oh with what he would? With the remains of his long lost arms?

He stopped when he recognized the building he once used to live. His eyes widejing as his feet moved before his mind could as he saw that even after months, the walls seemes to be in construction to repare.

He licked his dry lips as he looked at both his sides to ensure none police or hero was nearvy before kicking the door with all his force in desperation.

He stopped dead when the gate opened just a bit to show a gun pointed at his forehead.

"What?" Came a harsh voice as he gulped the thick air stuck on his throat. "What do you want damn freack?!"

"Im... I..." why his voice was horrible and hoarse liek that he didn't know, but he soon got desperate at seing he couldn't even say who the fuck he was.

"Get the fuck out." The old male groaned but Chisaki got his foot in before the man closed the gate, hissing at the sharp pain.

"I'm Chisaki Kai. The adopted son of Pops." He blurted out in panicked pants as the old man eyes widened in horror.

The male opened the gate and reveleaved himself, an old colleague of pops for sure as he checked him form head to toe.

"The one who got arrested? The one that made experiments with my friend's actual granddaughter who is now on care fo heroes?" He asked with venom on his voice as Chisaki felt almost sick to the stomach at hearing but could only nod. "How did you get here? I heard you were locked in Tartarus."

"Tartarus broke down a couple of hours ago... I.. escaped." The male narrowed his eyes at him even more but sighed, opening the gate for him to enter.

"You look like shit. Come in." He swore he almost dropped to his knees at the moment. But tahnks to heavens his legs allowed him to walk enough to enter.

"I have to take you to (L/n)-sama first." He widened his eyes once again as he heard your name being spilled from that man's mouth.

You... you were still here...?

But.. you didn't contacted him. Not even once. Ever since he was arrested he eneber heard of you again.

"Pardon..?" He almost whispered as the male lead him.

"She was your partner, right? (L/n)-sama confirmed that when you were arrested. By our traditions, if the successor or the other boss get arreste don a state of coma." He glared at him whose truly made him want to vomit "The wife or partner of the last boss takes the lead of the said yakusa."

So.. you accepted that..? But he knew you, he knew hwo much you hated his work... why would you-

"Here." He opened the door for him to enter "Take a sit and wait here." He closed the door abruptly making him wince.

The office of Pops... that guy really wanted to torture him. It was almost untouched tha place. Even the couch felt the same as usually would...

He soon perked up when he heard footssteps and standed up the best he could. Almost tripping even.

Pathetic. He was pathetic.

The door opened and he felt his heartbeat stop as appeared, (E/c)'s eyes widening as soon as they saw his figurine standing there... you havent changed a bit. Only for the appearance of someone who has been overworking themselfs to death... face scrunched from nights of crying...

It was a silence and such a tense atmosphere as you both stared at eachother... his eyes burning at seeing you there... he thought he would never see you again...

He saw how you blinked and rubbed your eyes only for you to widen them even more at seing him standing there still.

"K...K-Kai...?" You managed to finally pet out as his heart clenches.

You still called him ny his first name... his true first name.

You stepped closer to him as your hands hovered over his face and widened in horror at finally noticing the missing of his arms...

"What... happened to you? What is this?!" You gestured to both of the rest of his arms and his bruised forehead.

For some reason.. hearing your still concerned tone of voice made him break.. how could you still use that tone of voice with him after what he has done?! After he put his iwn father on coma?! He hadn't heard of you ever since he was arrested and now you were being nice and concerned to him?! Was this some other torture?!

"Kai!" He hadn't notices he had fell into his kness and started to hiperventilate. He could feel your hands on him as you wiped whatever it was falling from his eyes. "Hey! Hey look at me! Kai!"

He wailed. Dropping his face on the crook of your neck. Tears casting down from his eyes like waterfalls as he shouted and sobbed loudly on you. Breath hitching when you hugged his bigger form and brought him closer.

The moment he finally calmed down you parted away from the embrace and helped him up.

"Lets get you clean up, come on." You went to grab his hand but immediately retreading to grab his shoulder.

He could only follow you. Feeling numb and the headache coming from how much he had cried on your arms.

The water was comfortably warm as he finally allowed to drop his shoulders at feeling the water dropping on his body. He was still in his boxers when you helped him up... he didn't even spoke a single word as you touched every part of his body just to help clean himself up since he couldn't even do that. Even surprising himself when you brought him his old clothes.

He couldn't understand... he thought that if you didn't even went to visit him, yomust had to hate him. Despise him for what he had done like everyone else... Luckily he didn't put you on the plans with eru or else the love of his life would be arrested as well.

"A penny for your thoughts?" Your soft voice manifested as he still looked down at the ground from the spot of his old bed.. it was so much comfier than the brick he was forced to.

"... is it because of pity you pushed aside your anger towards me?" His voice was so hoarse and pained himself crunched his face at hearing.

"Pity?" You giggled sadly sitting besides him "Not quite. I-"

"Why then you did all this...? You should had let me die ..." he whispered as your chest clenched at his words.

"Why would i do that with my boyf-"

"Dont. Dont say it. After all I've done you should despise me. Hell, I thought that so after being denied of even a fucking information if you were safe..." he dropped his head befoore hearing a gaso from you.

"What do you mean? I was told by the guards of Tartarus that visits weren't allowed. And I always at least send you a letter, pn your first week when I was denied entry I send you a mask and a letter." You said while arching an eyebrow as he catched what had happened.

"The guards didn't delivered... must have stocked or throw away..." you furrowed your eyebrows but sighed shakily.

Suddenly his breath hitched when you hugged his torso and burried your face against his neck. For the first time he hadn't tensed at sucha coforting touch, but felt warm after so long without it.

"I missed you so much..." you mumbled, wetting his neck with your tears as he clenched his teeth at feeling drops of water falli g from his eyes once again.

"Damn you... I already cried enough didn't I..?" He burried his face in your hair as he allowed to be hugged. For once wishing his arms were back only to pull your body closer to him.

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #chisaki kai #overhaul #bnha villains x reader #bnha fanfics #bnha fanfiction #not my best but ok #zuffer writings

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ignisnocturnalia · 3 years

Text

I think I've figured out how I want to write these (Exposition/mini story, when relationship is established HCs actually start) based on a previous statement I made, also ANOTHER REQUEST! All headcanons are placed at the back of the story part. Let's get this ball rolling!

Crow x Reader

"Now, if he ever flies too far from the nest?" Spider leans forward, "Boom." Your stomach made a flip at the kingpin's explanation, and you've never been more uncomfortable to have your Ghost out in the open. Some part of your mind is saying 'Who cares? That's the man that killed Cayde', but another half is saying 'He has no idea. It isn't fair to judge him for something he can't remember'.

That meeting had happened an hour ago and you couldn't get his dumb gray face out of your head. He looked so.. sad. Regardless, having a Ghost rigged with explosives did not sit right with you at all. Spider wanted you to help him with his Wrathborn problem? Sure, alright. When all of this was over, you knew exactly what you wanted your payment to be.

One large change about the new light that you've found impossible to ignore is diminutive he is. His commentary after successful hunts and small chats after a lure upgrade is administered are curt. Even more surprising is his willingness to present mercy to the corrupted Fallen. He is nothing like Uldren.

Acknowledging this division between his past and present self is when you start to realize that you like working with him. A lot. Probably more than just work, but will you admit it? No. Besides, you tell yourself, he really doesn't look like he's searching for a relationship while figuring himself out.

Petra often asks why you've taken to visiting the Tangled Shore so frequently now, and everytime you scramble to spit out an answer, something stupid like "Spider has a good deal running right now". In some part, it's true, since when you're not hunting Wrathborn you're showing Crow how to do Guardian stuff and explaining Last City life to him. His calm and curious demeanor is extremely cute, and the velvet sound of his voice does not help.

When Spider has both of you run point on a mission you always look to the rafters of the building to try and see him or listen for his steps. He's annoyingly good at stealth. The only time you ever had to be stealthy was in the Gorgon's lair and the Pleasure Gardens. You wish you could speak to him unfiltered; if Spider ever discovered your crush he wouldn't let you hear or see the end of it.

As the months dragged on and you came closer to catching the High Celebrant, you caught yourself anxiously wondering what lie at the end of it all. What if Spider didn't let you take him? And if he did, would Crow stay with you or do his own thing? Greedy little thoughts ran through your head as you thought of all the times you shared together, both of you visibly happy in your eyes.

As much as you'd like to live a runaway life with him and hope he felt the same, you knew it was wrong. He'd get restless, and you'd start fighting. Whatever he chose to do, is what you would let him do. Osiris has taken notice of your feelings, and the knowing glances he gives when no one else is looking sets your face on fire, acting like he doesn't have a thing for Saint always writing those letters when he's on death's doorstep; dramatic is what you say.

Soon enough, all of your close friends can tell you like someone, but they simply can't figure out who. Ironically, the day you work up enough courage to ask him to be your partner is the same day he pins the location of the High Celebrant. The morning is tense, and just getting ready for the big fight is sending energy through your body. Crow, on the other hand, seems much more grim. It makes sense, really; you're the one who's been slaying gods over the years.

You're guard is quickly brought up when Spider summons you for a talk in the main room. You listen to his next words with a fierce intensity.

"Do not let him so close, or spoil him with pretty dreams. Kill the High Celebrant. Break Xivu Arath's hold over my Shore, and you can claim any prise in my lair as your reward. You'll have earned it."

Hiding a smile, you nod and make your way to disembark on your mission; looks like you won't have to ask.

The Dreaming City was as mystical as ever, and you vaguely wondered if Petra had seen you come in. Making quick work of the scarce Hive, you found yourself in Harbinger's Seclude. The massive Cryptolith was impossible to miss, and a full body shiver racked you as you approached it. This was it.

Stabbing the lure into the roots, Crow's voice filled your comm channel.

"Ha! Tagged it! It's bleeding energy and on its way back to you." Your heart jumped at his excited tone. Nobody had any business being that cute. The trademark screech of a Hive portal drowned out all noise, and your next big fight ensued.

The next period of time was spent chasing the Celebrant through realms, until, that is, it sealed the last portal. Osiris had given weak condolences, but you weren't going to give up on Crow. Not today! The blight high above you twinkled teasingly as frustrated tears swam over your eyes as you attempted scrambling up the large Awoken statue, just barely missing the hand and falling back to the ground uselessly.

The silence was becoming overwhelming, deafening, even. Osiris continued to tell you to return to fight another day, but he was too important for you to just leave behind.

"Maybe there's enough Hive magic left in the lure to find another way through!" For once, your Ghost didn't parrot the obvious; you almost wanted to kiss him. Turning around with a new fire, you thrusted your lure into the crystalline floor over the last trace of the High Celebrant's blood. Sure enough, platforms much like those of the Dreadnaught revealed themselves over the edge of the bridge.

You wasted no time, racing over every gap and closing in on the blight. Palpitations overtook your heart when Crow's voice returned to the feed, spewing some kind of death message. Death wouldn't take him. Especially not if you had anything to say about it.

Jumping through the portal, you recognize the bitter feelings of anguish. This is exactly how you felt when Sundance's light washed over the Prison of Elders. Not again.

By the time you see the High Celebrant, all you're seeing is red. Faintly, you remember how Drifter said the Hive in the system were scared of you; good. They should be.

Bullets fly and the ether sings with each corrupted Fallen whose head flies by your gun. If you weren't so pressed for time, you would've strangled the Wizard that had your sought after stolen Light. Standing in the pool of green magic, you turn a furious glare on to the Celebrant and unload your heavy straight into its bony head. Something inside of you lurched in desperation to finish the kill when it summons a portal, trying to make for a retreat and trapping you at the center of the room.

"Crow! The portal!"

"I see it! Now finish it!" Just as he says those words, the trap falls and the portal across the room implodes, sending the High Celebrant to its knees. Your body erupts with power as you descend upon the Hive that killed Sagira and nearly killed Crow, sending it off with your super into the abyss.

Heaving a sigh, your brain finally has a chance to clear with no more present danger. In fact, your chest swells with affection as your Ghost confidently speaks of his trust in Crow followed by his reply.

"It's been an honor, Guardian."

Finally leaving the location, Celebrant head included, you decide to sleep on your short trip back. Your Ghost wakes you up before you land, and when you transmat your eyes immediately fall on Crow, who is safe and sound. Behind your helmet, you smile wearily at the former prince.

The moment you step into the Spider's lair, the air is thick with tension. You can tell the kingpin is pleased to have the Shore cleansed of Hive corruption, but also upset that he has to give up one of his prizes.

"It's done." You say firmly.

"So it is... so it is," he leans forward in his seat with a leer, "All right, Guardian. As promised, you can have a prized bauble from my lair as compensation for your... heroics." The last word rolls off his tongue with a quiet distaste, and you have no problem returning the feeling.

"I want... him." Jerking your head in Crow's direction, you can feel the energy crack through the room.

"Cute. Real funny." Your brows crease in impatience at his dismissive snicker.

"You said anything in the room." You do your best to keep your eyes off of Crow; a distraction now could be bad news. Spider lets out a terrible laugh as his guards step forward, readying their spears.

"Oh... You really want my little bird," he puts an uncomfortable amount of importance on the words "really want", "Fine. You can have him." The large Fallen turns his gaze to Crow, mockingly waving his arm upward.

"Fly away," he looks back down at you, "and get the hell out of my lair."

No further instruction is needed as you and Crow make your leave. As you exit the safehouse, both Glint and your Ghost come out.

"Now what?" Glint looks to Crow for an answer. The reality of the event settles on the Awoken, and he looks at you in a way he hasn't before.

"Why would you do this for us?"

As a formality, you've never taken off your helmet around Crow. He'd never seen, or even had an idea about your face, until... now. The tear streaks from the mission are still on your face, slightly visible in the dim light. Walking over to him, you slowly bring your eyes up to his. He doesn't move away, but you do notice with a flash of hope that a blush is starting to grace his cheeks at your proximity. Clenching your eyes shut, you close the gap between you two and press a kiss to his lips.

He freezes for a moment before placing his hands on your shoulders, and you pull back afraid that you've just made the wrong move.

"I... uh." His eyes dart here and there before settling back on yours. His face straightens out, and then he hesitantly leans forward into your range again. This time, he's the one kissing you.

Both of you leave the Tangled Shore together.

Relationship HCs

He never fails to pick you up during your special brand of greeting, which is running straight at him and jumping into his arms. You even do the little spin around like those movie couples

He's okay with subtle PDA like handholding, but nothing too extreme such as kissing in front of others; he prefers to keep more intimate moments between you and him

Surprisingly eager for cuddles with you at the end of the day

He will let you indulge yourself by doing stupid things every once in a while, like seeing how much whipped cream you can put in his mouth before he can't take anymore

There are times when you just talk about random stuff because he knows you like the sound of his voice

He usually has to calm you down whenever another Guardian stares too long. You see it as a threat, and you're ready to defend your glowing boyfriend with your life

When you're not busy with Vanguard tasks, you're bringing him to the planets that weren't swallowed by the Darkness and showing him the layout, along with whatever endemic life is present

He becomes enamored with Earth's crows, which you had expected

Whenever he has visions of his past, he'll tell you and you do your best to fill in with rudimentary details such as location or time; you hope he never remembers the moment when you had to kill him

You especially love playing with his hair, it's nearly softer than silk and you are intrigued by the white streaks at the front of his cut

Both of you will decide to sit down every once in a while and just touch each other's face; you prefer running your hands along his jawline and cheekbones while he'll brush just under your eyes and along your temples

Dates can range from a quiet, romantic dinner to hunting down large and difficult quarry

Whenever you find a Golden Age waltz piece, you bring it to him and give it a listen; these sessions always end with you two dancing and swaying with each other

Truly, a couple of many talents

NSFW 👁👄👁

The first time you get anywhere close to the act he's so unsure of himself you both stop and instead explore each other at the surface level

No matter how many times he sees you nude his face is a blushing mess everytime

The first few times you take the lead, but once you both get over the fact that you've exchanged pleasantries he's the one who figures out he likes to be dominant in bed

He's vocal to an extent, mostly heavy breathing/moaning and grunts to let you know exactly how good you feel

He's super into bondage (who would've known?) whenever you're the one tying him up

He always prefers the ability to see your face, and whether it's because he can see your face contort in pleasure or because he can lock with you in a heated kiss, you can't tell

His sides are usually ticklish, but they act more like erogenous zones when both of you are deep into it

He starts out rough since he isn't used to this kind of activity at all, but over time he finds a balance between being gentle and absolutely blowing your back out

He's likely to caress your arms and waist the whole time to add another sensitive layer to your already overstimulated body

He also likes draping his body over yours, and with how hot his chest is and the press of his lower body? You're not arguing

Once you finish, he either goes straight to sleep while huddling against you or you convince him to get up so you can shower together

I have 2 asks for Drifter HCs, but I'm implementing a personal/request system so I can keep my monsterfucker train going. The next HCs I'm releasing are for Nokris, then I'll do Drifter HCs, and for now my last personal writing will be for Ghaul

#destiny 2 #relationship headcanon #crow x reader #destiny spider #osiris #saint 14 #cayde6 #uldren sov #destiny crow #petra venj #xivu arath

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speechlessxx · 4 years

Text

Bring Him Light - xii (King!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Chapter Summary: While Lord Rumlow is being tortured, his fellow disgraced comrade is found in another kingdom’s port.

Warnings: underwhelming filler chapter, descriptions of torture,

Word Count: 2.3k

<- Last Part -=+=- Next Part ->

The musical clattering of the coins in the cloaked man’s pouch were muffled beneath the several hollered orders. York’s docks were packed to brim with several ships that brought in various goods for the young prince’s name day. From what the man could make out, the king and queen were determined to make this the best name day the young boy had ever experienced. He was surprised to find out, it would be the young man’s last.

He overheard one sailor planning to ship off. Good. He thought. Put as much distance between me and Brooken. The man stopped the sailor, hailing him over and flashing him the pouch of coins. “Where to, old man?” the young sailor asked. The cloaked man scoffed, not used to being addressed in such a manner.

“Far.” The cloaked man answered, swallowing his pride. He thought his life was more valuable than a status or a label. “Wherever you’d take me, boy.”

The young sailor stared into the pouch. The coins shimmered under the hot sun’s rays. There were enough coins in the bag to help his aunt. He probably wouldn’t have to sail ever again. “I’m headed to the Old World, sir,” the young sailor explained. “I’m setting sail in a few hours or so.”

The older man grumbled a bit. He didn’t like the idea of staying in York for a few more hours. He remembered the advice he had told a young queen days before – the longer you wait, the slimmer the chances at escape became. But he was in no place to argue, and no other ship was leaving, so he agreed. “What’s your name, sir?” The young boy asked.

“Alex.”

As Anthony and his wife were busy with the name day arrangements, trumpets blared out a somber tune throughout the halls of Iron Tower. The king stopped midsentence, registering the meaning – a noble had died. An awful feeling bubbled in his chest as he began to think his son did not make it to his final name day.

Moments later, Ser James Rhodes pushed open the throne room doors. Anthony frowned when he saw the redhaired Natasha, who was supposed to be in Brooken at your side. It was her duty as one of your ladies in waiting.

“Your majesties,” Natasha bowed.

“What’s happened?” His wife asked with a similar confused frown that mirrored his own. “Is your queen with you?”

Natasha took a deep breath as she looked around the crowded throne room. All eyes bore into her, all wondering the same. They had all heard the low notes from the trumpet… Some had assumed it called for the death of their prince, but had Lady Natasha come to deliver the body of their princess, instead?

“No, your grace,” Natasha answered after long beats of silence. “My queen is safe in Brooken.” She wasn’t sure how true those words were, but after witnessing the pure desperation on King Steven’s face and voice as he tried to find you, she had a bit of hope.

“Then, why are you here?” Anthony asked the younger woman. “Why aren’t you with your queen?”

“She asked me to deliver the body of …” Natasha gulped. Saying her name made it all too real. “Lady… Lady Wanda, who recently …” She choked on her words, tears brimming in her green eyes. “Who recently passed.”

“Oh, dear god.” The queen gasped. She nervously clasped the pendent on her necklace.

The king’s frown did not relent. He stared down at the young woman. Her tears were justified – she had lost a friend after all – but her eyes spoke a different story. There was something more to the simple tale she spun. He waved off everyone in the room, dismissing them from the chamber.

“Tell me the truth, Lady Natasha,” he urged, “for I see a deeper sadness in your eyes.”

“Your grace,” Lady Natasha muttered. Under your orders, she was not to spread the story of Wanda’s assault. As gruesome and horrible as the events that lead to her death were, the mention of her losing her maidenhood before marriage would tarnish her reputation. York’s laws would call that she be buried in an unmarked grave alongside common criminals who had no family. “My queen has demanded my silence.”

“You may be my daughter’s lady, but you are in my court,” Anthony pushed. His tone menacing, but after being in Brooken’s court under the rule of the once hailed Cruel King Rogers, it did not phase her. “You can tell me yourself, or I can bring in someone who will force it out of you.”

“Tony.” Your mother scolded. She cast a look of pity to Natasha. “Please, Lady Natasha, speak freely.”

»»————-　⚜　————-««

The arrow whistled in the air as the arrowhead pierced through the massive wooden board. A loud thuck! echoed throughout the silent stables followed by a pathetic whimper. Three men watched in the sidelines as the queen pulled another arrow from her quiver.

“Do you think she’s taking this a bit far?” Lord Wilson, though thoroughly impressed with your archery skills, grew rather restless as his queen toyed with her prisoner. Another arrow sliced through the air and made a similar thuck sound.

“She hasn’t even hit him once,” Steven reasoned. He, too, was impressed with your skills though he was rather disappointed that you had yet to graze his cousin’s skin. “My love,” his voice echoed, “you can get much closer than that.”

“Is that a taunt?” You asked, readying another arrow. Your husband smirked and shrugged.

Rumlow, whose chin was previously tucked into his chest as he cowered in fear, raised his head and shot an angry glare at his cousin. “Steve, you son of a –“he gasped when an arrow flew right in front of his face, inches from his eyes.

“And before, you think you can run,” you called out. Rumlow didn’t even hear – nor see – you draw an arrow as he screamed out in agony. The pain shot through his body as his eyes found an arrow lodged into his knee. You lowered the bow and sent a smirk his way before walking off towards the castle. “Bring him back to his cage.” You ordered the two guards who were in charge of his imprisonment.

As they dragged the disgraced lord away, James sent a curious glance towards his king. “I’m worried about her.” James muttered.

“As am I,” Sam agreed.

“She’s angry,” Steven said. “Her anger is rather justified.”

“Rumlow should’ve already been executed for his crimes,” Sam reminded. “If you are keeping him alive to sate your queen’s vengeance, then I’m afraid you are the cruel king you’re painted out to be.” The men chuckled at his jest.

“We cannot execute a noble without a proper trial,” Steven sighed.

“You beheaded Sharon without – “

“She confessed to the king about her betrayals,” James explained. “Rumlow has not.”

Steven added, “(Y/N)’s merely trying to coax it out of him.”

“He’s a rather tough shell to crack.” Sam agreed. “How is she, really, Steve?”

The king sighed. He glanced to the castle to see that you had already disappeared within its walls. Steven could barely understand your grief nor your pain. In the days that followed Rumlow’s capture, he had expected it to be easier for you. You had the opportunity to lash out and torture his cousin, and, to his surprise, you gladly took it. Steven thought that after wreaking havoc on his cousin that you would finally open up to him and allow him to be there for you, but you barely spoke to him about the incidents that plagued your nightmares. In fact, you barely spoke to him at all.

“It’s as if I’ve married a ghost,” Steven shook his head. “She thrashes around at night. I fear she replays the terrors in her mind when her eyes close. I see it in her eyes. Beneath the anger, the rage… She’s … She’s broken.” He sighed and rubbed his chin, slightly missing the roughness of his beard. “Any word of Pierce’s whereabouts?”

“Some say he’s hidden within the ranks of Thanos’s army. Others say he’s fled on a boat, but we would’ve caught him by now if he had been…” James said.

“Has King Anthony been informed?” Steven asked.

“We sent word we were looking for him, yes, but I’m sure Nat would relay the current events that took place to him,” James sighed. “Perhaps, you should talk to your wife?”

Steven shook his head. He didn’t want to pressure you into reopening the wounds – though he wasn’t even sure if the wounds had healed, yet. He felt as if he were walking on thin ice around you. Too harsh of a step forward, the ice would snap, and he’d get lost in the cold. He didn’t want to lose you by pushing you too hard. He had to believe that you’d come back to him in your own time.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

Steven slowly entered the bedchamber. He had expected you to be sitting on the bed or standing on the balcony – it had become one of your favorite places after the night with the lanterns. But you were nowhere to be found. The king began to worry about your absence when he heard sloshing of water coming from the bath.

He knocked on the door before he entered. “(Y/N)?”

“He has yet to confess,” you muttered. Your knees were pushed up against your chest with your head resting on top of them. You were growing increasingly annoyed by Brock’s resilience. You glanced up at your husband who had nothing but concern all over his face.

“He will eventually,” Steve whispered. “But I’m not concerned about his confession…”

“No,” you said. “You shouldn’t be. You should be preoccupied with finding Pierce.”

“I’ve sent men out to look for him.”

“They aren’t doing their job!” You snapped. “Pierce is a powerful man. He’ll bribe his way to safety! You have to –“

“(Y/N)…”

“No!” Steve’s tongue grazed the back of his teeth as he watched you thrash about in the water. “We can’t… I can’t… I can’t just sit and wait while he – they – get away with this.” Your voice shook as you took your head in your hands. “I … I don’t – I can’t.” He watched as the rage slowly receded as the grief took over.

Instinctively, your husband rushed to your side and wrapped himself around you. He didn’t mind his clothes getting wet – he was just concerned for you. He rubbed your back as he tried to soothe you, allowing you to cry into his chest.

“I want him dead, Steve,” you whispered, voice muffled into his clothes. “I want them both dead.” The words frightened you. You would’ve never wished death upon anyone, but the two men deserved it.

“As do I,” he nodded. “But we cannot execute him without a confession.”

“He will not confess.” You repeated.

“I will make him confess,” Steve promised.

“Is it awful that I want to be the one to swing the ax?”

Steve shook his head. “No. You deserve to be the one to put him into his grave.” He kissed the top of your head.

“I want him to look me in the eyes and tell me everything,” you muttered. “I want him to confess.”

“He’ll crack.” Steve promised. “You will make him crack.”

»»————-　⚜　————-««

“Boy!” Pierce called for the young sailor – Peter was his name. “Boy!”

“What, old man?” Peter snapped as he loaded the cargo onto the ship. Peter grew rather annoyed with the man’s incessant complaints. If he got off his lazy ass and helped, maybe I’ll load these faster, Peter thought as he rolled his eyes.

“What’s taking so long?”

The sailor sighed as he looked over to see kingsguard searching every boat. Peter shrugged. “Can’t leave, yet.”

“And why not?”

“You hidin’ from somethin’?” Peter asked, arching an eyebrow at the cloaked man. He wondered why “Alex” wore a cloak… The sun was blistering hot.

“I’m just not fond of boats,” Pierce waved his hand. “Just want to get the travel over with.”

Peter sighed as the kingsguard approached. “Well, I think the king’s looking for something… or someone. He’s got kingsguard searching boats.”

“What?” Pierce’s eyes widened.

“You!” Ser James Rhodes stalked up to the young sailor. “Have you seen any strangers recently?”

Peter shrugged. “Just him.” He said, pointing to the cloaked man who was huddled up in the corner of the boat. “He’s just hitching a ride with me. What are you men looking for?”

The knight paid no attention to the young man’s question. His attention focused on the man in the cloak. “Odd choice of clothing on this hot day, sir,” Rhodes told the man. The boat rocked beneath his feet as he stepped onto it.

“You’re the one in a metal suit.” Pierce faked an accent.

Peter’s face scrunched in confusion. The man hadn’t spoken like that before.

“Well, you’re the one hiding behind a thick cloak,” Rhodes chided, faking a laugh. He took another step towards the boat. His hand clutched the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it if needed. “Please do reveal yourself, sir.”

“I’m fine where I am.”

“I’m afraid I must insist.” Another step. Another.

The cloaked man suddenly leapt up, a short dagger in his hand. He swung at the knight, who brought his sword up, deflecting the older man’s attack with ease. His sword cut through the man’s wrist. Pierce groaned in agony as his free hand shot up to grab at the bleeding stump. Rhodes grabbed Pierce by the cloak and hauled him off the boat.

“I believe the Brooken King has been searching for you, Lord Pierce,” Rhodes said. “But my king wants a few words.” He walked past Peter. “Thank you, kid. The crown appreciates it,” he told him. “Sorry ‘bout the boat.”

#steve rogers #king!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #king!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #king!steve rogers imagine #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #captain america imagine #captain america #captain america x reader #royalty au #marvel royalty #marvel au #bring him light

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redgillan · 4 years

Text

Under Pastel Skies - 3

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 2,587

Warnings: none

A/N: I wanted to give Reader a family and this is the easiest way to do it. Btw Peggy’s husband isn’t Steve, I have other plans for him ;) Enjoy!

Wannabe sugar daddies don’t interact, idc if you have money, eat it and leave me be.

The rest of the week went by, and you kept hoping Bucky would come back. You hadn’t seen him since he’d left 300 dollars under his napkin after visiting you at work. You had tucked the bills into your bra, knowing they would be safe there, and walked home at the end of your shift.

Now it was Thursday afternoon and you were craving a day off.

Natasha’s apartment was spacious and the oversized glass window bathed the living room in natural sunlight. The apartment was a gift from Sam. Obviously.

You dropped your purse on the sofa –your bed- and laid out the bills on the coffee table. It was made of marble and brass, another gift from Sam.

You didn’t know what to do with the money, so you took it wherever you went, to keep it safe. You wanted to return it to Bucky. It was too much and you weren’t used to random acts of kindness.

You sunk into the cushion and blew out a sigh as you stared at the money. The persistent vibration of your phone against your thigh pulled you out of your thoughts. Half expecting it to be Natasha, you answered without looking at the caller ID.

The operator told you that Scott Lang was calling from Saint Quentin State Prison, and asked if you would accept the charges. You agreed. You always agreed.

“Splotchy, I need your help.”

Closing your eyes, you let your head fall back against the cushion. “I told you to stop calling me that, Scott.”

It was a silly nickname.

As a child, your mother dubbed you splotchy because of the colourful doodles you painted on the living room walls, and your siblings, who were roughly a few years older than you, had loved using that nickname. Especially since they knew you disliked it.

Their support and endless enthusiasm played a big part in your artistic journey, nurturing that spark into a flame. What started out as a childlike fascination with colours and shapes became your whole life. No one was surprised when you decided to pursue a degree in fine arts.

After the death of her husband, Peggy Carter adopted five children; a little boy from San Francisco, a little girl from Wakanda, twins from Sokovia and a little girl whose birth parents were still in high school. You were the last one, the only one she adopted as a baby.

“Is it offensive to call an artist splotchy?”

“It’s irrelevant. I haven’t painted in months,” you replied. “And we’re not kids anymore, you can use my name.”

“I’ve been calling you Splotchy for so long, I forgot your actual name.”

“You’re so funny,” you deadpanned. “What do you need, Scott?”

Scott’s tone changed suddenly, his voice grew agitated. “I need you to call Maggie. She isn’t picking up when I call her.”

“Scott,” you sighed.

“I haven’t talked to Cassie since her birthday,” he cut you off, pleading. “Please, I just want to talk to my little girl.”

Maggie was Scott’s ex-wife. Six months after his incarceration, she had filed for divorce. Natasha thought it was a real dick move but you didn’t blame Maggie. She was alone, her husband was in jail –for basically being a dumbass although the official charge was embezzlement and destruction of property- and she had a kid to raise.

Maggie wasn’t a saint but she was a good mother, and Cassie was a smart and healthy kid. Now you knew what to do with Bucky’s money.

“I’ll call her,” you said. “Listen, I’m going to put 50 bucks on your book. Buy yourself a bar of soap, I can smell you from here.” Scott interrupted you with a monotone ‘har har’. You chuckled. “I’ll buy Cassie a Christmas gift on your behalf, all right? I think she wanted a bike.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” he chanted over the phone, his voice muffled as if he was holding the receiver too close to his mouth. “Are you sure you can afford it? I know it isn’t easy for you. Between living in New York and paying for mom’s nursing home, you don’t have to-”

“It’s fine,” you said, cutting off the conversation. “I’m not alone, Okoye helps.”

“And Wanda?”

“She sends postcards from time to time.”

The line went quiet for a moment. “I want to get out of here so bad,” Scott groaned. “Everything’s gone to shit since I went to jail.”

“Everything’s gone to shit since Pietro died, Scott.” You both remained silent, remembering your late brother. Just thinking about him made your eyes start to prickle with tears, so you cleared your throat and ended the call. “I’ll talk to Maggie. You’ll be out soon, just... stay out of trouble. Love you.”

You left your phone on the table and kicked off your shoes before you lay down on the sofa for a well-deserved nap. In your dreams your brothers weren’t either dead or in prison, your mother hadn’t been diagnosed with Alzheimer, and you weren’t a burden to your friend.

If you were lucky enough, you wouldn’t even dream at all.

The next day, Bucky arrived at the hotel at six thirty and you playfully glared at him from across the lounge. He wasn’t stupid, he knew why you were glaring at him. At least he had the decency to look a little sheepish.

“Just so you know, you bought yourself about 30 breakfasts,” you told him, referring to the far-too-generous tip he had left the other day.

“A man’s gotta eat,” he replied with a boyish cockiness that made him look stupidly attractive. You were too flustered to find a good comeback.

You brought him his cup of coffee and let him enjoy his breakfast while you attended to your other clients. It was an unusually busy day, the room was packed with families who were getting ready to explore Manhattan. You didn’t have time to chat with Bucky and he didn’t stay long. You saw him flinch a couple of times; the muscles in his shoulders pulled tight and his eyes darting left and right.

He left another ridiculously generous tip, along with a handwritten note. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day x.

Bucky came back the following week, and even though it was a quiet morning, you made sure to find him a table in a secluded spot. He didn’t notice when you slipped the 300 dollars into the pocket of his coat. You could be pretty sneaky, too.

“Mmmh,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin, “I looked at your Instagram.”

“Oh,” you glanced at your shoes, embarrassed. “Wait, you’re on Instagram? I have a hard time imagining you scrolling through your feed.”

He laughed a little. “I’ll admit I’m not as tech savvy as you youngsters, but I’m not a fossil. I use it to look at the pictures my sister post of my niblings.”

“Cute,” you grinned.

“Anyway,” he said, pushing a hand through his hair. “I love your work. It’s very unique; a cross between Impressionism and Post-impressionism. It’s realistic, and yet there’s something different...” his face scrunched up as he tried to look for the right word. “There’s something in your paintings, something that isn’t here in real life but perhaps should be. It’s hard to explain. It’s a feeling, a color, a pattern; it’s indiscernible but it’s there.” He looked up at you, his cheeks red with embarrassment. “I’m not making much sense, am I?”

You blinked, suddenly stunned that someone had such strong opinions about your work. There was nothing but sincerity in his ocean-blue eyes, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words.

“I, um-” you cleared your throat, “Thank you, I didn’t know that. I look up to Monet, obviously. His work is phenomenal, and I also have a soft spot for Van Gogh.” You ran a hand across your face. “Sorry, I’m a little emotional. The people who compliment my art are usually my siblings, and Nat.”

“And now me,” he said with a warm smile. “And soon a lot more people.”

Flustered, you bit your bottom lip. “That would be nice.”

Bucky nodded. He gathered his silverware and set them on his plate, trying to buy time. You watched him hesitate before he turned to you. “I noticed that your last post was from almost a year ago.”

“Yeah,” you said with a casual shrug. “I don’t really paint anymore. I’m too tired when I get home and supplies are expensive.”

“Of course,” he pursed his lips in thought. “Are you free this afternoon? I was wondering if we could meet for coffee.”

You tried not to show your surprise but his words made the sleeping butterflies in your stomach crack an eye open, their interest piqued.

Was he asking you out? He’d come to your workplace every week since your brief ‘date’. He always gave you more-than-generous tips, and he listened to you with a combination of close attention and warmth that made you weak at the knees.

He’d made it clear he wasn’t looking for anyone but maybe he had changed his mind. Agh, down girl! He just wanted a friend.

You looked into his beautiful eyes, seeing a myriad of expressions cross his face before he smiled at you.

“I ain’t gonna hurt you, angel.”

It was an honest lie, just hearing him call you angel felt like a punch to the stomach. The butterflies were dancing around, reborn, and chanting the word ‘date’.

“If you don’t like coffee, we can have tea, or ice cream,” he said, “anything as long as you can sit down with me.”

You snorted. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated, smiling. “This is my number. Pick a place and I’ll meet you there.”

After breakfast, you closed the restaurant and started cleaning the Lounge. You brought everything back to the kitchen, stacked the dishes in the dishwasher and turned it on. Then you put away the unopened miniature jams, butter and whatnot, and gathered the remaining patisseries and fresh fruits in a basket that you would later bring to the reception.

You worked mechanically. It wasn’t exactly the most exciting job you’d ever had.

You couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky. It was easy to let your mind wander into the cosy and dangerous territory of this being a real date.

You decided to go to the Australian coffee shop near Natasha’s apartment. It was popular but not as crowded as Starbucks, which suited you fine.

After your shift, you removed your uniform and changed into the spare set of clothes you kept in your locker for emergencies. Emergencies being an impromptu date or a night out with Nat. You dug around in your purse for your lipstick; the nice one, the Carter Red as your mother called it.

You dabbed the lipstick on your lips, staining them. You only wore it on special occasions, and you weren’t sure Bucky deserved your full red pout.

You walked to the café with a little pep in your step and a confident smile on your face. The freezing temperature didn’t matter, you were too giddy to care. It was a date, it had to be, why else would he ask you to meet for coffee?

You smiled when you saw him through the coffee shop window. He was chatting with the waiter as the latter set two mugs on the table.

“Hi again!” You shrugged out of your jacket and took a seat.

“I hope you like hot chocolate. Carl, here, says it’s their best seller,” Bucky said, smiling kindly at the waiter.

“Enjoy, and if you need anything else don’t hesitate to call me.”

You carefully wrapped your cold hands around your mug while you watched Carl walk away. A moment of silence rose between you. Bucky watched you with an unreadable expression, making you fidget in your seat.

“I’m glad you came,” he finally said.

“Me too. I’m a little surprised you asked.”

He looked down at his mug and smiled; it didn’t reach his eyes. “I have something to ask you.” He paused. “The night we met, you said you agreed to see me because being in a... financial relationship felt like the only solution to your problems.”

Your smile faltered but he didn’t seem to notice. Oh. The butterflies in your stomach fell so suddenly that it felt like carrying a ball of lead. They went back into hibernation.

“If I had been a decent person and, I don’t know, bought you a drink, talked to you,” he paused, meeting your eyes. “Would you have been interested in this type of relationship? With me, I mean.”

You swallowed hard. “You want to be my sugar daddy.”

It wasn’t a question but a statement. You were slowly realizing that you had been wrong about his intentions. This wasn’t a date, it was a business afternoon tea.

He winced. “Do we really have to call it that? I was thinking mentorship. I can provide financial help, and in exchange you could be my friend.”

“I can be your friend for free,” you said, your throat tightening.

He shrugged, a small smile on his lips. “This way we’ll both get something out of it.”

You looked down at your hands, still wrapped around the mug, and pursed your lips in thought. You felt a sharp tingling sensation in your nose, a sign that you were about to cry. You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw, fighting against the flood that was coming.

You pushed all the emotion down and forced a smile to your face. “Do you mind if I use the restroom? I just took the subway, I’d like to wash my hands.”

Bucky watched you, momentarily stunned by your request. “Of course, take your time,” he quickly recovered.

“Thanks,” you croaked, pushing your chair back.

You picked up your bag and walked to the restroom, your legs feeling like cotton wool. You didn’t need to use the restroom, you had walked to the café, but you needed a moment alone to collect yourself.

A woman came out of the restroom, holding the door open for you. You picked up the pace and thanked her before closing the door behind you. You looked pretty sickly under the artificial light of the restroom. Your eyes were glassy with tears and your red lips were taunting you.

“Got your hopes up, uh?” You watched your lips move. A little humourless chuckle escaped you and you shook your head at your own idiocy.

You aggressively wiped the lipstick off your mouth with the back of your hand and sighed deeply as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. Now you felt like an idiot.

It wasn’t Bucky’s fault. He had been nothing but nice and kind, and perhaps you had mistaken his kindness for flirting. A naïve mistake. You had always been a little clueless when it came to men.

You ran your index fingers under your eyes to get rid of the makeup that had gathered there. It wasn’t the end of the world, you barely knew him anyway. It didn’t hurt any less, though.

Maybe it was time for you to do something out of character, to experience life no matter how crazy it seemed. You were dreading this conversation with Bucky, but you couldn’t hide in the restroom forever. With another sigh, you pushed yourself away from the sink and walked out of the restroom.

Part 4

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagines #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel imagine #bucky barns imagine #redgillan #redgillanwrites

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passable-talent · 4 years

Note

hey roe! i love ur work! could i request a zuko x reader where the reader and the zuko have history and they meet at the boiling rock because the reader was imprisoned (either during the invasion or at the catacombs or whatever you think works) and there's a lot of angst and it ends with a kiss or something? tysm!!!

tysm!!!! It means a lot

but u gotta think bigger anon,,, boiling rock was full of firebenders... how abt a childhood friend who defected long, long ago, and zuko could’ve never known? hmm....

in watching the boiling rock for this ask I realize that the bois get into guard uniforms and hide their clothes on the beach. so like,,, did these two dumbasses just strip on the beach and b like “hey yeah bro this is cool”. they think nothing through. HOW DID THEY EVEN GET THE GUARD UNIFORMS IN THE FIRST PLACE-

Sitting in a Boiling Rock cell wasn’t exactly one of Zuko’s top ten moments, but it sure wasn’t one of his lowest, either. He’d been tossed into a singular cell that as of yet didn’t even have a bed, the door shut in his face.

There came three quick knocks on the metal wall beside him, and he walked closer to it, curious.

“I heard you got thrown in for impersonating a guard,” came a voice on the other side, and Zuko regarded it with a healthy amount of susipicion.

“Yeah.”

“Nice,” said the voice, a little laugh following their words.

“What did you do?” asked Zuko, surprised that the voice sounded young, almost as young as himself, if he had to guess.

“Oh, I defected a long time ago. They weren’t too happy with my methods.” Zuko didn’t answer for a moment, and the person in the cell beside him took that as an opportunity to continue asking questions. “Seems like the warden wanted to punish you especially, putting you down here with this lot. Any idea why?”

“I dated his niece,” Zuko answered, his tone definitive, almost as though this information was obvious. There came a pause from the voice, and Zuko wondered what about this information was shocking. It wouldn’t be common knowledge who the warden’s niece is, would it? He thought that that would be safe information to reveal, without revealing his identity.

“Hey, how old are you?” The prisoner asked, breaking their silence. Zuko briefly considered, but decided not to lie.

“Uh, sixteen, why?”

“Zuko?” Zuko froze, and fixed his stare to the wall as though he could see through it if he glared hard enough.

“How do you know that?”

“It’s Y/N,” the voice said, and finally Zuko realized why the voice had seemed so young.

Y/N had been his friend, from academy, back before Zuko had turned twelve. Y/N was one year above him, but was a prodigy, studying under High General Bujing as young as ten years old. They were a dedicated student and a master of strategy as early as twelve- but disappeared at thirteen, never to be heard from again.

At least, by the young prince, whose father decided that telling the prince that his closest friend had attempted assassination on one of the high generals would fill the already ‘weak’ prince’s mind with ‘insubordinate ideals’.

And yet here they were.

“Y/N?” Zuko breathed, lifting his hand and pressing it to the metal, astonished. He had assumed that you were dead. “How are you here?”

“How am I here? I’m a criminal and a traitor, that’s obvious, how are you here?”

“Apparently I’m also a criminal and a traitor,” Zuko answered, and you laughed.

The assignment for the day was mopping, down in one of the lower rooms of the prison. You knew where to go, and yet the moment those doors opened you rounded the walls and hugged Zuko tightly.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” you whispered, and when you pulled away you noticed his scar. Gingerly you reached your hand upward, lightly laying your fingers against the skin, then resting the palm of your hand onto his face to fully cup his jaw.

“I knew that you’d been banished, but...” you trailed off, and slipped your hand around to the back of his neck to pull him into a tight hug.

“I wish I could’ve been there to save you,” you whispered, holding onto him. His arms wrapped around you in return, for just a moment, until a few guards shouted at the two of you to move along. Still, he walked beside you.

“What do you mean?” He asked, and you looked sideways at him.

“I knew your father was horrible, I knew the nation was horrible, that’s why I left it. But to do that to you, I...” you trailed off, and shrugged. “I guess I tell myself I should’ve brought you with me when I left.” His response was minimal, but you noticed it, the way he seemed intrigued by the thought, and slightly saddened that it hadn’t happened.

You had known of Suki, but you hadn’t formally met her until now. She was kind, and understood why another teenager was roped into the daring escape.

Sokka, on the other hand, wasn’t so pleased.

“Sokka, come on. Y/N has a better understanding of Fire Nation military strategy than anyone, even me.” Suki raised an eyebrow in your direction, to which you responded with a shrug. “We need them on our team.”

“The more we try to break out, the easier we’ll be caught. We can’t risk it.” You weren’t going to argue in your favor- in fact, the opposite.

“I’ve been in here for four years. I’m used to it, I’ll be fine,” you assured Zuko, but he shook his head. He grabbed Sokka by the shoulder and pulled him away, but underestimated your ability to eavesdrop.

“Look, we didn’t come here planning to break out Suki, but we are. Y/N is the same, for me, as Suki is to you. Okay?” Your eyes widened as you glanced to Suki, but she hadn’t caught it, and didn’t understand your surprise.

“Okay, fine,” Sokka said, breaking from Zuko’s grasp. He took a moment to ensure no one was around to listen. “I think I’ve got an escape plan.”

You’d stuck by Zuko when you were young, and you’d stick by him now, as traitors to your nation. Even if it meant giving up your only escape plan. He was loyal to Sokka, and you would be too, so you stayed behind, and bided your time, waiting for your next opportunity. Even if it meant listening to Mai scold Zuko through the walls. Sokka came to you with a new plan, though you had a sneaking suspicion you were the last of the group that he told, and when it came time to fight Azula on the gondola, you were one of the first to climb to the roof.

“Ah, Y/N, an old familiar face,” the princess said as she landed, taking in the sight of you and Zuko, side by side. “How quaint. An old traitor, and a new traitor. I’m ever so curious, Y/N, how you can claim to have any morality at all, betraying your nation twice now. Wasn’t it your own mentor you tried to kill?” You reacted in rage, and shot the first plume of fire.

The ride to the western air temple was a long one, filled as it was with jubilation, victory, and reunions. Zuko spent much of it trying to decide how to ask you in more detail about your past. You hadn’t said much to him about it, and he’d never been told, but Azula seemed to know well what had happened.

He didn’t want to push, but he wanted to know.

“Your mentor was General Bujing, right?” He asked, sitting beside you in the metal airship.

“Yeah,” you answered, your tone noncommittal.

“He was the general I stood up to. When I got banished.” Your gaze went to the young prince, and you realized just how little you knew about his past, since you left the fire nation. You also realized his tactic- to get you to share, he would share. You decided to cut him a break, and do it yourself.

You started with what he already knew.

“I lost my parents to the war when I was six. So I was sent to the academy, where they recognized my talent and rewarded me with apprenticeships and a home. Still, General Bujing was the closest I had to a parent.” You paused, and looked toward the front of the ship, where you could see clouds.

“But as I got older, and he put more questionable battle strategies on my exams, I began to see him not as a parent but as a person. And what I saw was, I assume, what you saw. Someone ruthless and angry, who didn’t believe in human life, or didn’t value it.” Zuko didn’t stop you, or interrupt. He merely listened.

“I was scared. And so I did reading, on what the Fire Nation was before Sozin, and what I saw was so much better than what I was raised in. I knew i couldn’t change much, but what I could do was get rid of an old General who would do the worst sort of things.” You looked down at your hands.

“It didn’t work. I was thirteen, of course it didn’t. But instead of killing me, he...” you trailed off, and turned your gaze away from Zuko.

“I was going to kill him, because I thought there wasn’t any good in him. And then he let me go. He spared me.” Zuko’s eyes widened, as what he knew of General Bujing, the man who would sacrifice a brigade of soldiers, did not seem to line up with what you were describing.

“I was arrested anyway, of course, but I thought for sure he’d kill me. He didn’t even challenge me to an Agni Kai. I still don’t...” you trailed off, and let your head thump back against the metal wall. “I still don’t understand.”

“People are complicated,” Zuko struggled out, seemingly trying to conjure some good-ol’-uncle-Iroh advice.

“Yeah,” you said with a breathless chuckle, and scooted a bit closer to him. “It’s good to see you again,” you said, leaning your shoulder against his. It was an odd situation to be in, because you’d last seen him when you were thirteen, and he twelve. But you knew, from what you overheard, that he felt something more for you. Something akin to Sokka and Suki, who you had noticed were clearly an explicitly romantic couple. Because of it you felt it appropriate to notice how much he’d... grown. He was older, now, and his hair was nice, and his cheekbones high, his jawline defined, not to mention an obviously master firebender. You envied that talent, as the only bending you had was leftover from your training, that ended at thirteen.

“It’s good to see you too,” he said, which you barely heard over your thoughts. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, as obviously Mai was a very fresh wound, but you knew his feelings were there, and wanted in subtle ways to make him realize that his choices were accepted, welcomed, to you.

You wondered if he was having similar thoughts, noticing how you’d changed since he last saw you.

The moon was high by the time the airship docked at the western air temple. You’d fallen asleep on the metal floor (you’ve slept in worse places), and Zuko decided to wake you up so that you could move to one of the bedrooms up high in the temple.

He crouched beside you, and nudged your shoulder. When that didn’t rouse you, he sat down, deciding to take a moment to study your sleeping face. He brushed back some of your hair from your face, silent in his appreciation.

He’d wake you up. In a minute.

For now, he wanted to lean down, and kiss your forehead.

When he pulled away, he noticed your eyes were open. A smile spread to your lips, and you pushed back your tiredness to respond to the moment in front of you.

“Want to try again, now that I’m awake?”

-🦌 Roe

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crystalirises · 3 years

Text

The World Moved On, but You're Stuck in the Past

Ah yes, Villain Dream who does not see himself as a villain my beloved <333 Honestly, I'm not really sure what Dream and Wilbur's current evil (are they still villains??? Dream probably not cause the poor guy got tortured oof and maybe not Wilbur cause... I don’t know, is he being evil??? Is he okay??? I don’t know what these characters are up to) plans so just... have this flimsy idea cause I don't know what they're planning XD

TW: Mentioned Blood, Implied Murder, Villain Dream who does not realize he's the villain and so justifies the crimes he did, and Insane Revived Wilbur Soot

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28886223/chapters/80235868

He was free.

Wilbur was the first face he saw once he took his first step into the outside world, splatters of green blood decorated the obsidian floor and walls. The revived man was standing with a sword, leaning against it while he waved Dream over with a smile. He tried not to be disgusted by him.

“How does the sun feel on your skin? I remember the day you brought me back, the sun was rising in the distance and I never felt so alive. It’s good to be back, right Dream?” He met the man’s eyes, those dark pools seemingly darker than the day that he had died. He still looked like he’d just recently gotten out of Limbo, and Dream had no doubt that the man had been neglecting his own care. He could only hope that he didn’t have to drag the man’s ass out of Limbo again due to his own negligence. Besides, Wilbur had a point. He looked down at his fingers, basking in the sunlight that shone down upon them. It felt nice against his cheek. “The warden had been difficult to fight but, I guess I just got lucky. You know, I made a new country.”

“D-did… you?” He coughed, pressing a hand against his mouth. It had been so long since he’d spoken. He felt cool glass touch his skin, glancing over to see that Wilbur was handing him a water bottle. Dream didn’t hesitate to snatch it from the man’s hand, drinking the water quickly even if it meant he’d had to pause every now and then just to cough. He hadn’t had clean water in a while. Wilbur watched him with narrowed eyes, a smile on his face before Dream noticed what the man was now holding. His mask. He reached out to grab it. “Another L’Manburg—?”

“L’Manburg is now a fucking crater.” He flinched, a memory of Quackity flashing in his mind. His scars still stung, even if he was used to the pain. Wilbur pressed the mask against his hand, rolling his eyes while a sneer stretched across his face. “This new country will be better. It will.”

“... if you say so…”

“But, let’s not get on the wrong foot here. We’re friends now, allies even, right Dream? You brought me back from that shithole and I paid my dues by setting you free? But who’s to say that our little friendship should stop there, hm? Y-you know? I-I mean you’re all alone now, like me.” Dream gritted his teeth at the reminder, his hands curling into fists. How far he’d come. Now he was at the bottom with Wilbur Soot of all people. No best friends to hang out with. No mother to cry to. No fiance to love and hold. And all because of children who couldn’t realize their place in his world. “So I was thinking. You need a place to stay, hm? Well, why not stay with me!”

He raised a brow at the suggestion. Allies with Wilbur? And with a country involved? That was not going to end well. Dream glanced over at the prison, his throat drying and his knees buckling under the weight of his fears. He didn’t care for Wilbur, but what choice did he have? “Deal.”

“Good man!” He recoiled when Wilbur wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Wilbur’s stare stayed on him for a while longer, and Dream could already tell what he was thinking. He scowled at the thought. He didn’t need the man’s pity. So what if he was thinner? He could still beat the resurrected fool in armed combat. “Y-you know, Quackity has his own nation too.”

“I know.” Las Nevadas, he’d heard Quackity mention it before, and even the warden had mentioned it once. Wilbur had a determined look in his eye, a dark one that Dream knew all too well. Except somehow he felt that they had swapped roles, Dream had directed Wilbur to cause L’Manberg’s destruction, and now Wilbur was directing him. He sighed but followed after the madman. It wasn’t like he had anything else on his schedule. But he wasn’t sure if he could even face Quackity after… Dream placed the mask over his face. He would not let Wilbur see his worry or his doubts. He needed an ally, especially now more than ever, even if it meant having to help Wilbur in the destruction of another nation. “What plan of attack are you proposing? What did Quackity do against you? I will join you Wilbur but I would like to hear an explanation first.”

“He didn’t want me in his nation.” And oh how the world changes. Dream tried not to scoff at the ridiculous answer. He’d felt the same way when L’Manburg was made, who was he to judge a clearly unstable man? Wilbur had stretched out his arms, resting them against the back of his head like a man who had nothing to stress about. Dream didn’t like how it felt to stand next to him. He felt short, weak. He clenched his teeth together, feeling them grind against each other. Dream could only hope that Wilbur didn’t make him his lackey. He would kill the man and send him back to Limbo if he so much used Dream like that. “He let Purpled, Sam, Foolish, and some weird slime monster into his nation. He… he even stole my son from me… the fucking asshole.”

Fundy was with…

“You created a new nation to spite him?” Dream looked away, wishing that he had his old lime jacket instead of the dirty prisoner outfit that he wore. The warden had made sure that the uniform didn’t come with pockets… after the first incident. “Must you get into another conflict?”

Dream stopped listening once Wilbur began his tirade on Las Nevadas and how he wanted a rivalry with Quackity. He didn’t care for the resurrected man’s shenanigans. Dream was free, and that was all he needed Wilbur for. Getting a home and an ally were added bonuses. He nodded along, pretending to listen while his mind drifted to what Wilbur had mentioned. Fundy was in Las Nevadas, and he sided with Quackity. His heart began to beat even faster in his chest, an ache spreading over his entire body. How long has it been since he’d even last seen his fiance?

He should pay him a visit.

---

“Should I add breaking and entering into your list of crimes or should I message Sam and let him see for himself?” Those weren’t the first words he had expected to hear once he’d managed to sneak into Fundy’s little cabin. He had tried knocking, a lot, but nobody had come to the door. Dream had checked through one of the windows and had found Fundy curled up in bed. He hadn’t come there to talk… not really. He just wanted to see Fundy again. The fox hybrid glared at him from the end of the small bedroom, his claws out while he clambered to a sitting position. His eyes were narrowed into slits, and Dream only had a second to realize why Fundy hadn’t begun to growl at him. There was a baby fox hybrid next to Fundy, but they were fast asleep. “Get the fuck out of my house. Don’t think I won’t hesitate to call the warden on your ass.”

“I wanted to see you.” Fundy rolled his eyes at his words, shaking his head before plopping back down on the bed, careful not to actually disturb the sleeping kid. Dream tried to keep himself from prying, but it was hard not to. He hadn’t seen his fiance in so long, and now that he has, there’s a lot of details to take note of. For one, Fundy was living in a cabin far away from where anyone could find him. There were dark circles underneath his eyes, and despite being threatened, Dream had noticed the fox hybrid’s sluggish movements. The way his eyes seemed to blink open and close like he was processing that Dream was really in front of him. Not to mention, Fundy had a kid. When did that happen? “Wilbur broke me out a few weeks ago—”

“Why?” He stopped, glancing over at Fundy who had curled up again, a hand resting on the back of the kid’s head. Fundy’s eyes were closed, his breath harsh and filled with controlled rage. Dream leaned back against the wall, shoes scraping against the floor while he adjusted his mask. He used to be comfortable not wearing his mask around Fundy, but now, he couldn’t even fathom what they were to each other. He swallowed down the bitter taste in his throat. He did what he had to. No matter what he had to lose in the end. Still. Seeing Fundy this way, seeing the world move on without him, it felt like he had been drenched in lava. How dare everyone move on? Did his words mean nothing? Did his actions mean nothing? Had they not thought of what he had meant at all? Everyone moved on, and didn’t bother to listen to him. Fundy had turned to glare at him, a tired yet furious look in his gaze. “Why the fuck would you bring Wilbur back?”

“I needed someone to help me escape from prison. Wilbur would have done anything if I’d asked him to—” He jumped before a pillow could slam into his face, glancing over at Fundy whose glare hadn’t wavered. He wasn’t sure if it was his reflexes or Fundy’s exhaustion that saved him from getting hit. Dream sighed, placing a hand against his chest. This is why he hadn’t wanted to talk. He wasn’t a fool, he knew how his own fiance would react to him being free. “None of you would have helped me, anyway. Wilbur was my safest option. Besides, I memorized the revival book and I wanted to see if it worked. I know Eret and Phil tried to bring Wilbur back before—”

“You’re playing god again. I’m not surprised, you’ve always been like this, haven’t you?”

“What…?” Dream glanced over at Fundy, slowly moving to pick up the pillow that had been thrown his way. He handed it over to his fiance who quickly grabbed it from him. “I don’t…”

“Since the start, we’ve all been puppets in this game of yours, haven’t we?” He watched Fundy hug the pillow closer to his chest, the fox hybrid burying his face. Maybe he couldn’t stand to even look at him. “This whole world, our lives, we were just dolls for you to play and discard once you’ve gotten bored. Wilbur had been the perfect doll, doing what you wanted in the end. Tommy is your least favorite, isn’t he? Since he’s always getting in your way? You hate him.”

“I hate the trouble he’s caused.” He huffed. It felt like no one really understood him. Dream leaned back against the wall, knowing that the longer he stayed near Fundy, the higher the chance he’d get his mask scratched. “Tommy’s with Wilbur over at his new nation. He’s untouchable if I want to keep my alliance with Wilbur, but I believe that I might be able to co—”

“You’re still the same Dream who got imprisoned, glad to know you haven’t changed a bit. Gods, what did I ever fucking see in you…” That stung. Dream glanced over but Fundy had chosen to lay back down again, nuzzling his chin on top of the younger fox hybrid’s head. A part of him couldn’t help but envy the display, wondering if he and Fundy would be married if he had only succeeded and hadn’t been imprisoned. Whose kid even was that? Dream stood up, catching Fundy’s attention again. In a better world, he could have shown everyone that he had been in the right. Then his best friends would still be his friends. Then his mother would still see him as her duckling. Then his fiance would have still married him and they could be living in a quaint cabin together. “What was I to you Dream? I was a puppet too, I know, but what role was I suppose—”

“I want you back.” He hadn’t meant to say that, but it was too late. He was only glad that his face was covered by the mask. Fundy stared at him, an incredulous look morphing across his face with every second that ticked by. He watched Fundy pull the kid closer to himself, like he was scared of… of what Dream would do. “Can’t we try again? I could show you my intentions. I-I could convince you why I’m in the right. We-we could work together! We don’t need Wilbur or Tommy, it could just be us! Everyone’s moving on, and everyone’s changing, so why can’t we try again? This would be a new chapter in our lives. Please. Please, come with me. Please, star.”

“You hurt my dad. You hurt my uncle. And now you’re asking me to go with you?”

Fundy laughed, shaking his head. “Fuck you.”

The fox hybrid sighed, turning away from him. “Get out before I call the warden.”

A heavy air fell over the room.

Dream sighed, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Fundy. Goodbye.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yogurt, you are there in spirit

AKA sleeping while dads argue in front of you

#dream dsmp #wilbur soot #fundy #fundywastaken #dream smp fanfiction #dsmp

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eurydicees · 3 years

Note

August Prompt Challenge Prompt: do-over. Maybe with Zukka

thank you for the prompt! it's a bit rushed, but this was super fun to write :)

to begin again, with new names and familiar faces

summary: in a tea shop in ba sing se, sokka and lee start over.

pairings: gen fic, but can easily be read as pre-relationship zukka

words: 1785

warnings: none

The first time that Sokka goes to the Jasmine Dragon, he’s served by a boy whose hands shake when they set the tea cup in front of him. Sokka doesn’t look too hard at him, distracted by the biscuits that are on the tray with the tea.

The tea is good, and that’s really all that he cares about.

The second time that Sokka goes to the Jasmine Dragon, he goes right before closing. It’s an asshole move, but he’s had a long day of searching for Appa and if he has to sit in that house with the rest of the kids one more minute, he’s going to lose his mind. He can only think of so many places in Ba Sing Se that are open at this hour, and so, before he can regret it, he’s stepping into the tea shop.

The boy at the cash register groans.

“Now, Lee,” Sokka hears someone say, “we’re welcoming of all our customers, no matter what time they come in.”

The boy seems about to protest, but then his eyes lock on Sokka and he cuts himself off. Sokka isn’t quite sure why, until he looks at the boy. At the shaking hands. At the scar on the left side of his face. At the curl of his mouth.

It’s Zuko.

Except, the boy who must be Zuko says nothing. He doesn’t light his fists on fire, doesn’t take aim at Sokka, doesn’t narrow his eyes in anger. He gives no sign of recognition other than the subtle shake of his hands.

Have Zuko’s hands ever shaken before? Or have Sokka’s?

Sokka can’t remember any moment in their many fights when Zuko had done anything other than growl. There had been no trembling hands. There had never been this tense silence between them; there had never been anything even remotely similar to this. To Zuko, standing there with his mouth in a hard line, his hands gripping the counter tightly. To Sokka, standing there with his lips parted, his hand halfway to his boomerang.

“How can I help you?” the boy says. His voice is hard, flattened out into the same voice all customer service workers use. There’s no fire in it; there’s no threat in it. If Sokka didn’t know better, he might think that there was a sliver of anxiety to the formal speech.

Sokka finds himself standing in front of the cash register, money in hand, and convincing himself not to be afraid. Zuko can’t attack him here, not with the groups of people finishing their teas. His boomerang burns where it rests, tied against his back. If the worst happens, Sokka is prepared to fight.

“Hibiscus tea,” Sokka says, swallowing down any fear.

The boy— Zuko, it has to be— bites his lip as he writes down the order. “It’ll be a few minutes.”

Sokka just nods. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He and the boy— Zuko, he must be Zuko— just stare at each other, until there’s a clanging in the kitchen and the boy turns away. All that Sokka can see is the red of the scar.

It’s exactly the same as Zuko’s scar. How many people, Sokka wonders, could have been hurt like this? Who could survive such a burn but a firebender?

But Sokka can’t do anything about it. Not here.

So he sits at one of the tables, crosses his arms, and keeps his eyes on the boy. He watches him clear the tables, wiping them down with a rag. He carries several trays in one hand, balancing them perfectly. He talks with the customers, people that Sokka guesses are regulars, who laugh with him rather than wincing at him.

It’s strange and uncomfortable and Sokka itches to run, but he can’t flee now. He can’t give in— he has to figure out what Zuko is doing here. He had been trying to escape the house because Aang was annoying him by virtue of being twelve, but he would still kill for that boy, and right now, all of his protective instincts are telling him to stay in this tea shop.

“Here’s your tea,” the boy says, setting down a tray. The words aren’t a growl, but they’re rough, as if they’ve been burnt, as if Zuko has just coughed out a collection of embers in his throat. Even just this simple sentence, spoken in a tea shop, is enough to set Sokka on edge. The boy seems to realize it, too, because he flinches away from Sokka’s gaze. “Enjoy.”

Sokka, before he can stop himself, grabs the boy’s arm. “Zuko.”

Zuko freezes.

There’s a moment of silence.

Then Zuko tears his arm out of Sokka’s grip. He stands still, staring at the wall, refusing to meet Sokka’s eyes. Sokka, though he wants to fight, take him down here and now before he can get to Aang, is grateful that they aren’t looking at each other. Zuko doesn’t turn around to glance at him when he says, “I don’t know who that is.”

“What’s your name then?” Sokka says.

“My name is Lee,” Zuko says, “you must have confused me for someone else.”

Sokka swallows down any protests. He can see the lie just as well as Toph might have been able to feel it, but he also knows that he can’t fight Zuko in a tea shop. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Lee says, and then, with the stiffness of the hunted, he walks away.

Sokka watches him go, and tries not to flinch when Zuko turns around, his eyes meeting Sokka’s for the first time. In the candlelight of the tea shop, his eyes are a molten gold.

Sokka shivers.

The third time he goes to the Jasmine Dragon, it’s in the middle of the day, at the height of the lunchtime rush. Zuko, standing alone at the register, is hastily scribbling down orders as people come in, barely having time to count out the coins before he’s handing the change off to the customer. He’s rushed, frazzled in a way he hadn’t been when Sokka was there in the empty hours.

Sokka orders his tea— he’s been trying a new one off of the menu every time he comes, and today it’s a blend of lavender and chamomile— and Zuko barely glances at him. The only sign of recognition is the flicker of his gaze from Sokka’s eyes to the boomerang strap at his chest to his eyes again. But still, he doesn’t bring out his fire and he doesn’t attack. He only waves Sokka towards a table and promises that the tea and macaroons will be ready momentarily.

Sitting down, Sokka watches the rush die down from his table by the door. It’s a strategic placement, he tells himself. There’s an easy escape route, and he can keep an eye on Zuko without craning his neck towards the register.

It’s not long before Zuko comes over to his table with his tray. His hands are steady as he sets it down in front of Sokka and pours the tea. It’s slow and careful, like Zuko has been practicing pouring tea his entire life. He can’t have been, though, because Fire Nation royals don’t pour their own tea. Sokka watches Zuko’s fingers, wrapped around the handle of the tea kettle, knuckles paling until he sets it down.

“You’re busy today,” Sokka says casually.

“It’s lunch hour,” Zuko says. His voice is rough, but there isn’t the same nervousness that there had been on Sokka’s last visit. “It’s always busy around this time.”

Sokka nods. Then, because he doesn’t know how to control his mouth, he says, “Sit down with me. Take your break.”

Zuko falters, his hand slipping as the tea kettle clatters back on the table. Nothing spills, but Zuko shakes out his hand like he had been burned. “What?”

“You look overwhelmed,” Sokka says, trying to figure out what he’s doing and why. It’s part of a plan, he decides. His mind just hasn't caught up with the plan his tongue is weaving. “So take your break.”

Zuko stares at him. Sokka can feel his skin burning with the glare of the afternoon sun that floods through the wide open windows. Sokka thinks that maybe Zuko is going to run away, but instead he just swallows. “I’ll tell my uncle I’m taking lunch.”

“Okay,” Sokka says, and Zuko turns towards the kitchen. Just before he walks out of earshot, Sokka calls out, “Don’t keep me waiting.”

He doesn’t realize it sounds like a threat until Zuko flinches. He doesn’t realize how scared his voice sounds until Zuko disappears behind the kitchen doors. There are a lot of things that Sokka is unsure of, right now, and one of them is whether or not Zuko is going to come back— and if he does come back, if he’ll be coming back with fire-hot hands.

Zuko does come back, though, and he comes without any weapons. He’s wringing out his apron in his hands, like he needs something to keep him steady. As he slides into the seat opposite of Sokka, he drops the apron against his lap and clasps his hands on the table.

“What do you want?” he asks, voice small. “I’ll do anything. Just… leave this place alone.”

Sokka frowns. “What?”

Zuko still doesn’t meet his eyes. “I’ll turn myself over to the Avatar. I will. Just let my uncle have this.”

He’s serious, Sokka realizes. He really will turn himself in if it means keeping the Jasmine Dragon peaceful. He’s willing to give up this false identity that he’s created, he’s willing to give in to whatever Sokka asks for.

There’s a rush of power that runs through Sokka’s head— Zuko has been making his life hell for the past few months, and he has the ability, now, to take him prisoner.

But Zuko— Lee, now— looks so tired as he sits there, head bowed. Zuko drops his hands from the table to his lap, pulling at the strings of his apron.

“Your name is Lee,” Sokka says quietly, “I don’t know why I would ever introduce Lee to the Avatar. I don’t know why Lee would want to meet him, either.”

Zuko’s head snaps up, widening eyes meeting Sokka’s. They stare at each other for what feels like years— the kind of years that bring the wisdom that comes with a stalemate. Or, not a stalemate, nor a surrender, but a peace treaty. Sokka doesn’t bring Aang here, and Zuko doesn't start a fight with them.

“Right,” Lee says quietly. “I don’t know either.”

Sokka takes a breath. “Then let’s start over, Lee. Do you want a macaroon?”

#ask #my writing #august prompt challenge #atla #zukka #atla fanfic #avatar fanfiction #avatar: the last airbender #zuko #sokka #zukka fanfic #zukka fanfiction

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trashcanband4 · 3 years

Text

The Revelation of the Other Woman Ch. 16

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15

Chapter Title: Settling in. Pairing: Daryl/oc. Setting: The Prison. Wordcount: 4,837. Warning: None that I can thing of.

After Rick, Daryl and Merle got safely inside the gates we all gathered in the cell block. Daryl, Carol and Beth stood on the perch and catwalk above while Michonne, Glenn, Rick, Maggie, Carl and I stood on the ground below. Hershel sat on the stairs. Merle was locked in the holding room. “We're not leaving.” Rick spoke with finality.

“We can't stay here.” Hershel argued the same case he had been arguing.

“What if there's another sniper?” Maggie asked. “A wood pallet won't stop one of those rounds.”

“We can't even go outside.” Beth spoke up as if what she said wasn't already understood by everyone.

“Not in the daylight.” Carol added.

“Rick says we're not running. We're not running.” Glenn spoke up still playing the part of leader even though Rick was back.

“No, better to live like rats.” Merle spoke up through the bar door holding him back from the rest of us.

“You got a better idea?” Rick asked him.

“Yeah, we should have slid out of here last night and lived to fight another day. But we lost that window, didn't we?” Merle asked. “I'm sure he's got scouts on every road out of this place by now.”

“We ain't scared of that prick.” Daryl spoke up from the catwalk, but I didn't even bother looking at him.

“Y'all should be. That truck through the fence thing? That was just him ringing the dinner bell. We might have some thick walls to hide behind, but he's got the guns and the numbers. And if he takes the high ground around this place, shoot, he could just starve us out if he wanted to.” As much as I hated to admit it, Merle had a point.

“Let's put him in the other cell block.” Maggie said ringing a rag in her hands.

“No. He's got a point.” Daryl said.

“This is all you. You started this!” Maggie yelled at Merle who wasn't affected by it.

“What's the difference whose fault it is?” Beth spoke up loudly. “What do we do?”

“I said we should leave. Now Axel's dead. We can't just sit here.” Hershel said for the millionth time and Rick started to walk off. “Get back here!” he yelled at the ex-cop who stopped, but didn't turn to look at the old man. “You're slipping Rick. We've all seen it. We understand why. But now is not the time. You once said this is not a democracy. Now you have to own up to that. I put my family's life in your hands. So get your head clear and do something.”

After Hershel yelled at Rick he just stared at him for a second then walked off. With him gone, people scattered. Most went to their cell's so that's what I did as well. I wiped the dust off of the metal mirror and looked at myself for the first time in months. Dark circles shadowed my eyes, my skin was darker than it used to be from the amount of sun I'd gotten during the winter and my hair had grown two inches, now touching my shoulders. I didn't look like the me I remembered. I was still studying myself when I heard someone clear their throat and looked over to see Daryl standing with his arm propped up on the door frame.

A pain shot through my chest at the way he was looking at me. With hard eyes and straight lips that gave nothing away. He was different than I remembered, everyone was. I guess we'd all changed over the winter. “Whatever you're selling I don't want any.” I told him emotionlessly and crossed my arms over my chest.

“That your way of tellin' me to go away?” he asked quietly.

“If you're going to call me more names...yeah. That's exactly what I'm telling you.” I said as I sat down on my bed, pulled my legs up and hugged my knees to my chest.

“I ain't good at sayin' sorry.” he said quietly looking more like his old self.

“Good then don't say it. 'Cause I don't want to hear it.” I practically growled at him still hugging my knees to my chest.

“Joanna, I really am-”

“No.” I interrupted him letting go of my knees to scoot to the edge of the bed. “You don't get it. I dreamed about you. Every night that we weren't together was another dream that had you in it.” His face flushed at my words and it was cute, but it didn't put a damper on my anger. “At first they were nightmares. I blamed you for me getting left behind and stuck with that bitch Andrea. But then I realized that you told me to stay behind because you wanted me to be safe and I stopped being mad at you. The nightmares turned to good dreams. I would be hunkered down in a house somewhere and you would find me or vice versa.” my voice was shaking holding back tears. “We would find each other, you would wrap those amazing arms of yours around me and give me the best kiss of my life.” a tear slid down my cheek as I watched him cross his arms over his chest and lean back against the wall.

“Then imagine my surprise when my wildest dream came true. You found me, hugged me and kissed me and...” I closed my eyes and smiled sadly at the memory of his arms around me and his lips on mine. “Damn it that felt heavenly.” I opened my eyes and let the smile fade as I glared at him again. “So stupid me, I think that means you actually missed me as much as I missed you, that you wanted me back. But then your brother comes in the picture and you no longer give a damn about me. I'm just some weak, uppity, booty call. And you leave.” my eyes glared at his hand to his mouth, chewing on his cuticles. “That hurt.” I glared at him with tears slipping down my cheeks. “I never thought you would hurt me. So don't expect me to jump into your arms at the first “I'm sorry.” because it ain't gonna happen.”

He just stared at me for a second as if he were trying to think of something to say before he nodded and walked out. A few minutes later I heard people talking down stairs, practically under my cell so I walked out on the catwalk to see what was going on. “I didn't see any snipers out there, but we'll keep Maggie on watch.” Rick said to everyone.

“I'll get up in the guard tower, take out half them walkers, give these guys a chance to fix the fence.” Daryl suggested.

“Or use some of the cars to put the bus in place.” Michonne suggested.

“We can't access the field without burning through out bullets.” Hershel added.

“So we're trapped in here. There's barely any food or ammo. Glenn added not helping one bit. Honestly his negativity was grating to everyone.

“We've been here before. We'll be all right.” Daryl tried.

“That's when it was just us. Before there was a snake in the nest.” Glenn directed at Daryl.

“Man, we gonna go through this again?” Daryl asked, getting in Glenn's face. ?Look, Merle's staying here. He's with us now. Get used to it.” he looked up at me then at the rest of the group. “All y'all.”

“Seriously, Rick, I don't think Merle-” Glenn started, but I interrupted him.

“Just stop it Glenn.” I spoke up from the cat walk as Daryl came up the stairs. “No one likes him being here, but as much as I hate to admit it, we need him. He knows The Governors tactics and he has military training. So just get off your high horse and deal with it.”

Glenn looked from me to Rick. “I can't kick him out.” Rick said with a shake of his head.

Rick's words seemed to piss Glenn off even worse than mine did. “I wouldn't ask you to live with Shane after he tried to kill you.” Glenn's words pulled a look out of Rick and I tilted my head at Glenn's words. Shane tried to kill Rick?

“He may be erratic, but don't underestimate his loyalty to his brother.” Hershel defended.

“What if we solve two problems at once?” Glenn asked. “Deliver Merle to the Governor. Bargaining chip. Give him his traitor, maybe declare a truce.”

“No.” I said as I walked down the stairs to be a better part of the conversation. “We're sacrificing people now?” I asked with a twisted faced look at Glenn. “Delivering him to The Governor will be no different than leaving him on that roof to die. We couldn't do that back then and we can't do this now.”

“Who put you in charge?” Glenn asked.

I leaned back and raised my brows. “I could ask you the same question mister high and mighty.”

“Guys, cut it out.” Hershel cut off our building argument. “Look, Glenn, Joanna's right. That's not who we are.”

“We're not gonna figure this out now. Let's take a break.” Rick suggested and Glenn and Hershel walked off. Rick jerked his head for me to follow him to his cell so I did. “What all happened out there over the winter? I know you said Michonne found you two while you were running from the farm, but I don't know much more than that.” he asked as he sat down on his bed.

I sat down in the chair in the room with a sigh. “Not a whole lot up until Woodbury. I answered vaguely. Just a lot of running, scavenging and hunkering down for as long as we could. Michonne and I are pretty good friends, we don't communicate a lot, but we work well together. She and Andrea got closer though.” I said with a shrug.

“What about you and Andrea?” he asked looking curious.

“Oh we still hate each other as much as we always did, if not more now.” I said with a small laugh before it faded. “Bitches can't befriend bitches I guess.”

“You're not a bitch.” he said with a shake of his head.

“Really? Because I feel like one after the things I just said to Daryl.” I said looking up from the floor to his blue eyes. I had forgotten how blue they were and the fact that I was apparently a sucker for them. His and Daryl's... the same color yet so different. “But that doesn't matter. What about you and the rest of the group? There's some things I've been wondering since I got here.”

“Like what?” he asked and I sat up straighter.

“Like I hear Shane tried to kill you?” I asked and he nodded with a sigh.

“The night the walkers came through and we all got separated, he killed Randall to lure me into the woods and kill me.” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I killed him first.” he said before his dropped his hand and looked at me. I didn't know what to say so I didn't say anything. “He wanted Lori, thought killing me was the only way to get her and Carl.”

“I'm sorry you had to do that.” I said and he waved me off. “So... I have to ask based off the way Beth spoke to me, did you and Lori ever work things out?”

He shook his head no. “What did Beth say to you?”

“She blames me for Lori's death.” he just tilted his head in confusion. “I guess she thinks that if I had never...been, with you that you and Lori would have been happier. I guess in her mind if you two were happier then you would have been there to save her or something.”

Rick sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Those aren't only her thoughts...” when he lifted his head to look at me I tilted my head to the side in a questioning manner. “She's just copying what I've heard Carl say.”

“Wait, Carl's mad at me too?” I asked getting tired of being everyone's whipping post.

“Yeah.” Rick sighed and dropped his hand from his face. “He didn't put two and two together until recently...after Lori...”

“I don't know how to handle this... Should we talk to him, try to explain things?” I asked as I shook my head in confusion.

“No, I'll talk to him and Beth. You don't deserve all that hate.” he said as he stood up.

“No, I think it's totally justified.” I sighed as I stood up as well. “I'm a home wrecker.”

“You know that's not true. Lori and I had our problems long before you even came along.” he said taking a step closer to grab my hand.

“I know, but...” I said giving his hand a small squeeze. When I saw a movement out of the corner of my eye I looked out of the cell to see Daryl walk by and glance in our direction. His stopped when he saw Rick's hand in mine and shook his head. I could hear a scoff as he walked off.

I dropped Ricks hand and scratched the back of my head. “What else have you been wondering about since you got back?”

“Daryl and Carol.” I said crossing my arms over my chest

“What about them?” he asked.

“She seemed really upset to hear that he didn't come back and then she blamed me for him leaving like I pushed him into it or something.” I said and he just looked at me. “Are they...together?” I cautiously asked.

“Honestly, I don't know. It's hard to tell with him.” Rick answered with a shoulder shrug. “You'll have to ask one of them.” I sighed and placed my head in my hands. He placed his hand on my back. “Hey,” I looked up at him and he gave me a small smile, “If I hadn't said it yet I'm glad you're alive.”

I gave him a small smile in return and he engulfed in a hug. “I'm glad you're alive too.” I said with a small laugh then pulled out of the hug. His hands lingered on my neck and mine on his sides. In a split second every tender intimate moment we'd ever had flooded my mind. Then came the bad memories and all the arguments. That made me remember why I chose Daryl, why I love Daryl more than anything or anyone. So I let him go and gave him a sad smile. “Thanks for filling me in. I'm gonna go to my cell and try to process things.” he let me go without a word.

Daryl's cell was on the way to mine and Carol's voice made me stop just outside of it. “This is a tomb.” I heard Daryl say as I made sure I couldn't be seen by them.

“That's what T-dog called it. I thought he was right till you found me.” Carol said and it got quiet for a few seconds. “He's your brother, but he's not good for you. Don't let him bring you down. After all, look how far you've come.” she said making him laugh. God how I'd missed that sound. It got quiet and I was about to go to my cell when Carol's words stopped me. “I've never thought Joanna was good for you either. She's too weak, those panic attacks of hers...they'll only slow you down and make you weak.” I felt my teeth grind together as I bit down, forcing back more tears and made myself walk by as if I hadn't heard a thing.

About an hour later I heard some one approach my cell and I thought it would be Daryl or Rick, but instead, it was Merle. “What do you want?” I asked sitting up to pull my knees to my chest.

“Just thought that if we're gonna be under the same roof, we should clear the air.” he stated and I just stared at him. “The whole hunting you two down thing... that was just business. Carrying out orders.”

“Sure, whatever, just don't hurt my people.” I said and he just smirked at me. “What?”

“Good taste.” he answered making me immediately think of what he said back at Woodbury. How his brother had good taste. He just smirked again as he walked away.

I was still in my cell when I heard Rick yell for Daryl, Merle and some others to join him outside because Andrea had been spotted. So I ran out behind Michonne and watched as Rick let her in a treated her like the traitor she was. He pushed her to her knees and took her things before she confirmed that she was alone and she was eventually let into the prison, but just the holding room. Andrea greeted Carol first. “Hershel, oh my god.” she sighed, spotting the old man's lack of a limb. “I can't believe this.” she said as she looked around the room and let go of Carol. “Where's Shane?” he asked still looking around the room before she looked at Rick.

“Why should you care? You're sleeping with The Governor now right?” I asked earning a glare from her before she looked at Rick who simply shook his head and looked away from her.

“And Lori?” she asked and Rick just gave her a hard look.

“She had a girl. Lori didn't survive.” Hershel spoke up.

“Neither did T-Dog.” Maggie added and I made a mental note to find out exactly how he died.

“I'm so sorry.” she said before her eyes landed on Carl. “Carl...” the boy just glared at her sympathy. Then she turned to Rick. “Rick I-” she started to walk over to Rick but he backed away from her. So she looked around the room at other people. “You all live here?”

“Here and the cell block.” Glenn answered.

“There?” she asked pointing to the door to the cell block. “Well, can I go in?” she asked.

Rick stepped in her way. “I won't allow that.”

“I'm not the enemy here, Rick.” Andrea defended.

“No you're just sleeping with the enemy.” I said and this time she didn't even look at me.

“We had that field and courtyard until your boyfriend tore down the fence with a truck and shot us up.” Rick said still standing in her way.

“He said you fired first.” Andrea defended.

I wanted to point out that he was a liar, but I knew I wasn't the person to point that out. She wouldn't listen to me. She never did. “Well, he's lying.” Rick answered and she just stared at him.

“He killed an inmate who survived in here.” Hershel spoke up.

“We liked him. He was one of us.” Daryl said making her attention turn to him.

“I didn't know anything about that.” Andrea said with a head shake. “As soon as I found out I came. I didn't even know you were in Woodbury until after the shoot-out.” she said looking around at everyone.

“That was days ago.” Glenn said and now I agreed with his angry tone.

“I told you I came as soon as I could.” Andrea defended herself and looked around at everyone just to be met with glares and looks of mistrust. She turned to me “What have you told them?” she asked angrily.

“I didn't have to tell them anything.” I said from where I sat at the metal picnic table.

“You poisoned them with lies about me.” she yelled.

“She hasn't bad mouthed ya.” Daryl of all people defended me from where he sat at the table across the room from me.

“I don't get it. I left Atlanta with you people and now I'm the odd man out?” she asked getting mad at everyone.

“He almost killed Michonne and he would have killed us.” Glenn started.

“With his finger on the trigger.” Andrea yelled with a point at Merle. “Isn't he the one who kidnapped you? Who beat you?” she asked then sighed and placed her head in her hands for a second. “I cannot excuse or explain what Philip has done. But I am trying to bring us together. We have to work this out.”

“There's nothing to work out.” Rick said cutting her off. “We're gonna kill him. I don't know how or when, but we will.”

“We can settle this.” she said taking a step closer to Rick.

“God, Andrea!” I yelled at her. “When are you going to open those ignorant eyes of yours and realize that there is no settling this. He will not stop until we are dead, that is just the kid of man he is. Merle kidnapped us, but it was under the orders of your boy toy. He is sick and twisted.” I said walking over to get in her face.

“There is room at Woodbury for you.” she said not giving up on the idea of peace.

“You're blind as a freaking bat.” I scoffed and walked back to the table.

“There's room for all of you.” she said looking around at everyone now.

Merle laughed at her. “You know better than that.”

“What makes you think this man wants to negotiate?” Hershel asked. “Did he say that?”

“No.” Andrea answered.

“Then why did you come here?” Rick asked.

“Because he's gearing up for war. The people are terrified. They see you as killers. They're training to attack.” Andrea warned.

“I'll tell you what. Next time you see Philip, you tell him I'm gonna take his other eye.” Daryl warned back.

“We've taken too much shit for too long.” Glenn spoke up. “He wants a war? He's got one.”

Andrea turned to Rick. “Rick? If you don't sit down and try to work this out, I don't know what's gonna happen. He has a whole town.” she heaved out a breath as she turned toward us. “Look at you. You've lost so much already. You can't stand alone anymore.”

“You want to make this right, get us inside.” Rick said walking around her to be in her line of sight.

“No.” Andrea said shaking her head rapidly.

“Then we got nothing to talk about.” Rick walked around her.

“There are innocent people.” she yelled after him trying to get him to stop.

With Rick gone Michonne and Andrea went outside to talk. So with her out of the way I went back to my cell.

I don't know when she left, I didn't go see her off like everyone else did. I didn't even leave my cell until I heard everyone getting together down stairs and the smell of warm food hit my nose. It turned out to just be rice, cooked with a chicken bullion cube for flavor. It wasn't much, but I sat on the floor next to Michonne to eat it. Not long after I finished my bowl Beth started singing. After listening to the song enough to recognize a pattern and pick up the chorus I started to sing along. “You gotta hold on, hold on. You gotta hold on. Take my hand I'm standin' right here. You gotta hold on.” I sang back up catching a few people's attention, but I didn't look at them. Beth glared at me, but I ignored her too. She wasn't going to put a damper on my fun.

When the song was over most people turned in for the night. So I followed suit. As I passed Daryl's cell he spoke up, stopping me. “So it's you and Rick again, huh?”

I stopped and leaned my back against the frame of his door. "Maybe." I replied with a shoulder shrug.

"I ain't interested in none of your games." He practically growled as he sat up on the side of his bunk.

"Are you and Carol together?" I finally asked and he looked at me like I was crazy. "She was more broken up about you leaving the group than everyone else and people around here seem to put your names together a lot. On top of that you two were close at the farm, so what am I supposed to expect when I find you." I explained deciding to leave out the fact that I heard her badmouthing me and Daryl didn't defend me. He just stared at me, biting his nails. “Was I supposed to expect you to just wait around for me to show up out of the blue? I mean as much as I missed you and longed to be with you I supposed you would move on at some point.”

"Did you move on?" He answered flatly.

“Oh, yeah, didn't you hear? Andrea, Michonne and I got real cozy on the road together.” I popped off and he rolled his eyes at me with a scoff. “No, I didn't.” I answered truthfully. “Have you?”

“Na. She's just a friend.” he answered quietly.

“Good.” I told him with a nod and pushed off of the door frame to walk away.

“You gonna give me a straight answer 'bout you and Rick?” he asked stopping me and I turned to see that he had stood up.

“He's just a friend.” I answered with a sigh. “Now if you don't mind I'd like to get some sleep.” I started once again to walk off but he grabbed my hand pulling me to a stop.

“Sleep here.” he suggested, not dropping my hand.

“Why, so I can be your booty call?” I asked sarcastically.

He bit his lip and shook his head. “Cause I love ya, Woman.”

“W-what?” I asked too shocked for his words to fully sink in.

“Come on, I ain't good at this shit, don't make me say it again.” he practically begged.

What he had done and what he had called me...it was all washed away by those three little words. Three little words that when said separately or with other words between them meant nothing. But when one sentence was composed of just these words they seemed to heal the worst of wounds and mend broken hearts. So what did I do when they finally sank in?

Laughter burst from my lips and I fell back to lean against the door frame again. When I managed to stop laughing I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. “Even in my best dreams you never said that.” I whispered then looked at him to see him looking at me like if I rejected him he would crack. “I love you too.”

A smile spread across his lips as he closed the space between us grabbed the back of my head and pulled me into him. The kiss was hard and passionate. A moan escaped my lips when his tongue found mine starting a battle with no winner. His hand moved from the back of my head to grip my sides and lift me up and pin me to that wall. My legs wrapped around his waist and my fingers embedded themselves into his soft hair.

Thirty minutes later we lay on his bed sweaty and breathless, but still tangled together like an unkempt line of string. “How do you do that?” I asked, not looking at him, but comparing the size of our hands instead.

“Do what?” he asked quietly.

“Make me lose my mind but stay perfectly grounded at the same time.” I said and he scoffed at me.

“Ya ain't makin' since.” he grumbled sleepily.

“Yeah, I guess my minds still a little lost.” I chuckled as I dropped his hand and rolled over to look at him. “It has to be, because I feel crazy for giving you a second chance.” I explained, resting my hand on his taunt chest. “I felt something for you before, I wasn't sure what it was, if it was love or lust or if it was just simply trust, and companionship. So when you told me I was nothing to you and chose to leave me, it hurt but I lived. Barely, but I did. And now, after tonight, after we said what we said? You have my heart, you're capable of destroying me.”

“Ain't gonna do that.” he promised, low and gruff as he placed his hand on my cheek and ran his thumb over my cheekbone. “Can't make the same mistake twice.” from my face his hand slid down to my neck where he touched the mark his brother had left on me. “Let's get some sleep, missed havin' ya by my side.”

I smiled to myself as I tuned my back to him and he tossed his arm over my side. “Goodnight, Daryl.”

“Night, Ballerina.”

Tags: @jodiereedus22 @mtngirlforever @zzeacat @winchester-angel @moodygrip @hells-mistress @lighthope08 @sapphire1727 @luisadontcurr @ilkaeliseb @twdeadfanfic @ravengalaxia @1lluminaticonfirmed @my-current-fandom-is @coffeebooksandfandom @lonewolf471 @gruffle1 @mblaqgi @calumstuffs @beltzboys2015-blog @neontiger007 @sourwolf-sterek32 @dixonluvv @dotslabyrinth @kayln97 @art-flirt @cbarter @chocolatealmondmilkk @chocolatealmondmilk-blog @daryldixonandfrogs @feartheendlesssummer @brooklynalpha @topsykretts92

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beauenfer · 3 years

Text

𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 ̨𖥔 ִ ་

one ━━ ★ ⌒*･ﾟ𝒌𝒂𝒊 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒆𝒓

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

: *✧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫: @beauenfer || : *✧ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,143

❝ 𝗸𝗮𝗶, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗲𝘅𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂’𝗿𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴. 𝗦𝗼 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗮𝗰𝘁 𝗰𝘂𝘁𝗲. 𝗝𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗵𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝘂𝗽. 𝗪𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝗻’𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗽𝗼𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗹 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝘀𝗼 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗮𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗼 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝗮 𝗺𝗶𝗱𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘀𝗻𝗮𝗰𝗸. ❞

♡. 𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒎; The Vampire Diaries

♡. 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈; heretic!Kai Parker x Vamp!Reader

♡. 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈; Slight Sexual Content, language, blood mentioned, angry reader, blood sharing kind of

♡. 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚; Reader and Kai are doing a stake out on a new vamp nest. Stuck in a car with Chinese food and a horny heretic? Not her perfect Friday night.

ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀*⋆.*: .: ⋆*･ﾟ: ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ .: ⋆*

YOU DIDN’T SPEND FRIDAY NIGHTS helping your friends. You spent Friday nights with a fruity drink in your hand and a mischievous smile on your painted lips. And by the grace of God, if you were especially lucky, you ended the night with a random man you granted permission between your legs, always bringing you to a near heaven but never actually getting you there. You gave them a blessing and they didn’t even treat it right.

You would wake up Saturday morning with something sticky on your stomach and your lipstick smeared across your cheeks, a cloud of disappointment hovering over you to personify your failed expectations of how the night should've gone. Then you’d go take a long, hot shower to rid the smell of whoever you were with the night before, then do it again that same night.

Friday night was your night, your night for the required daily dose of dissatisfaction. The only luxury you gave yourself: away from the drama, the vampires, the witches, and all the death that seemed to surround Elene Gilbert like a gravitational pull.

So why, why, did your friends have to ask you to spend your Friday night stuck in a car with Kai Parker?

“Are you serious? You’ve never had Chinese Food before?” You asked in astonishment, looking over at the heretic who struggled to keep the pair of chopsticks in his grasp.

You couldn’t believe it, but you also could. Kai Parker was a neglected Siphoner who wasn’t necessarily offered the same prosperity his siblings were. The real witches, not some joke of one.

At least, in Joshua’s words.

“Well, I didn’t really have time to eat when my father was yelling in my face about how much of an abomination I was. Huh, now that I think about it he did that a lot. Like, did he not get sick of his own voice? Oh well.” He replied with a shrug, nonchalantly throwing noodles into his mouth, then slurping up the noodle that hung below his chin as obnoxiously as he could.

You cringed, partly because of Kai’s indifference to his neglect, and partly because of the slurping noise. That was something you never liked that Kai talked so carelessly about. His life before the Prison World. The stories you heard from your friends, the jokes Kai would make about Joshua, that poor excuse of a father. You didn’t laugh about them like he did, but you know it pained him to remember because it pained you to think about it.

You just sighed, not wanting to ruin the still atmosphere in the car and make it more tense than it already was for you. You knew Kai didn’t understand the concept of awkwardness, or boundaries, or anything really, so he probably wasn’t identifying the shrink in your shoulders as anything but you feeling chilly.

You looked through the windshield of the car, frost surrounding the edges and gradually creeping into the center of the glass like crystalized moss. There’s been no activity from the new nest of vampires as of yet, the very reason you were parked in a shady alley across from the warehouse they were bunkered in.

The very reason almost two hours of your Friday night had been wasted.

“I don’t understand why Damon thought these vampires were a threat. They’ve just been sitting in there, gossiping, like it’s a fucking sleepover.” You threw your hand up in irritation, your dwindling patience, boredom, and claustrophobia all giving you a headache. Kai’s loud chewing wasn’t helping either.

“You know, it’s funny.” Kai set down the white container of greasy fast food on the dashboard (yours still unopened in the plastic bag sitting in the backseat), wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

You barely turned your head towards him, sensing that he was going to say something stupid or completely irrelevent to the conversation. “What is?” you mumbled.

“So, I’m supposed to be this powerful vampire witch hybrid now, right? And one would think that as a vampire you couldn’t taste human foods anymore. But you can. What's funny is that I can’t stop thinking about blood. I just wanna rip into someone's neck and suck their blood until there’s nothing left. God, that sounds so weird to hear out loud. I can hear yours, you know. It’s freaky.” Kai’s voice got progressively quieter on his last statement, looking over at you with a devilish smirk on his face. His blue eyes, littered with sprinkles of silver, seemed to glow in the dark car, and you could’ve swore that you saw the vampiric veins of his slither out from beneath his hypnotic eyes.

You suddenly felt unnerved around the heretic, looking over the details of his face before swallowing down a lump stuck in your throat that sunk to your gut. You narrowed your eyes at him when he leaned a little closer, close enough that you could see the fabric of his black t-shirt. With the way your feet were up on the edge of the seat and you were slumped over, you felt inferior to the change of intensity in his gaze.

“You get what I mean right, Sunshine? That insatiable need to have someone’s blood going down your throat to relieve that burning you get when you're hungry? Sounds kinky, doesn’t it?.” There he went again, a teasing tone lurking behind his every word that made your non-beating heart race. Your throat felt dry. You took a quiet breath to calm yourself, the phantom taste of blood trickling on your tongue and making your fingers clench around your legs.

You looked away from his fangs that poked out from behind his amused smile, a vague chuckle resonating in your ears that gave you the slightest idea that he knew what he was doing. He knew. He wasn’t going to admit it, or act anything but innocent, but you knew he knew. You looked out the windshield again suddenly feeling hot, which was odd for the 28th of November. The frost had clouded up your windows now, and the windshield’s clarity was shrinking by the second. It was dark in the vehicle, too dark for your liking now.

“Kai, you know exactly what you’re doing. So don’t act cute. Just look at the warehouse and shut the fuck up. We can’t leave this spot until morning, so don’t get any ideas of leaving me here to go get a midnight snack.” You spoke sternly, pursing your lips and glaring out the windshield as you struggled to follow your own orders. Unfortunately, Kai’s words did give you a burning in the back of your throat that had you digging your nails into your leggings, but you refused to acknowledge the other places affected by his words.

Kai let out a slow laugh, and you heard him shuffle in his seat. You stayed facing forward, not wanting to encourage him anymore and just wanting to sit in silence. You were ashamed for some reason, and exceptionally hungry. But in all honesty, you didn’t know what you were hungry for. But you figured you were ashamed because you let his double innuendos get to you, and how easily you had become affected. To put it bluntly, you were now mad, hungry, and horny.

That wasn’t a good combination for someone of your temper.

A few silent moments passed, and a sizzling tension seemed to have filled up the rest of the space between you two. Had you ever thought about fucking Kai Parker? Too many times to count. Had you ever considered it during those times he would be staring at you, or those times he’d drift past you and let his hand linger on the curve of your hip? Of course, but that small, rational part of you said your friends wouldn’t enjoy the sight. They’d be appalled if anything. And that little angel on your shoulder always convinced you he was something you didn’t want to get mixed in with, especially when you believed he didn’t feel the same.

And besides, you couldn’t right now. You were on a mission you promised Damon you wouldn’t stray from, as boring and uneventful as it was. You weren’t going to let Kai sabotage you and make you miss something important.

“Who said anything about leaving the car? I mean, there’s you. There’s me. And you plus me equals…” He implied for you to carry on the rest of the sentence, but you still set your eyes on the window you were looking through, which gave you a view of the vampires you were supposed to be monitoring. You weren’t focused on what was going on inside though, meaning Kai had successfully distracted you because you could only focus on not turning your head to look at him.

You spoke anyways, irritated. “One angry vampire and one whose head is about to get ripped off?” You replied lazily, hoping the heretic would get the idea and stop talking. But as said before, Kai wasn’t educated enough on human mannerisms to take a hint.

You almost flinched when Kai let out the deepest chuckle you’d ever heard, laced with his own arousal and hunger, right in your ear. You were so focused on not being distracted you didn’t feel him approach your side. His hot breath tickled your neck but burned your skin, and your stubborn resolve almost broke at the sensation.

You clenched your jaw when he finally spoke.

‘Wrong. It equals two horny vampires sitting in a car on some boring stakeout with nothing else better to do.” He murmured into your ear, purposefully giving the shell of your ear a hot blow of air.

You heard him quickly retreat back to his seat, the warmth of him disappearing from your side and making you even angrier. You were angry at Kai and how amused he sounded, how much of a tease he was, you were angry at his influence over you, and you were mad at yourself for putting yourself in this situation.

You don’t care. You don’t care. You don’t care.

You repeated in your head, hoping it would give you the strength you needed to stay in your own seat and not hop over Kai’s lap. Hoping it would give you the strength to stay focused on the mission at hand. Your fingers dug into your skin so hard it hurt, but it distracted you enough to stay still.

Kai snatched his noodle cup from the dashboard, picking at it with his fingers. “So, can I have your Chinese Food or....” His eyes languidly moved over to your tense silhouette with a mischievous smile quirking at his lips, noticing your clenched legs, balmy cheeks, and aroused glare on your sour expression.

You looked over at him begrudgingly, and something about the way he was smiling at you, or something about the way his heated eyes stared at you in amusement, you didn’t really know what it was, but something had your resolve snapping and you were lunging yourself onto Kai’s firm lap quicker than he was prepared for.

Your fangs sharpened over your bottom lip and you hissed at him, the chinese food spilling out of his hands and onto the floor by Kai’s feet. You were too irritated to focus on the mess however, your heavy breathing a tell-tale sign of your annoyance and unwelcomed arousal.

Kai got frazzled for a moment because he didn’t think you would actually snap, but he certainly wasn’t going to push you away. After all, how many times had he imagined this? Your heaving tits in his face with your delicate hands wrapped around his neck, the smell of both your arousal pungent in the air.

He quickly recovered though, his big hands wrapping around your thighs and boosting you forward, staring up into your red, vampiric eyes that glared down at him. He thought about how sexy you looked, everything he was going to do to you he only ever dreamed about. He smirked up at your expression, your fangs bared at him and your veins snaking out from beneath your heavy eyes.

“What about the mission? It would be the end of the world if we take our eyes off the vampires, right? We couldn’t possibly let Damon down.” Kai mocked, squeezing your thighs that fit snugly around his pelvis with a pout on his face.

You growled, gripping his hair between your hands and yanking his head down, exposing his neck. His Adam’s Apple bobbed with a wheezing laugh at your aggressiveness, enjoying the pain.

“Again, shut the fuck up and finish what you started.”

You sunk your fangs into his neck, his pleasure-filled chuckle echoing in your ears.

Maybe you could let Damon slide for making you work on a Friday night. But just this once.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

#tvd #the vampire diaries #tvdforever #kai parker #kai parker imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #tvd imagine #kai parker x reader

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stressisakiller · 4 years

Text

The Other Dursley (F.W.)

Pairing: Muggle Dursley x Fred Weasley

A/N: This was requested by and anon who asked for a muggle Dursley x Fred Weasley. It turned out longer than I expected but I hope that you like it.

Flashbacks are in italics. Fred lives AU

Warnings: None, Just fluff and like two curse words

Word count: 3.7k

Part 2

It had been over a year since you had last seen Harry when you and your family had been sent away from your home. You had quickly left your parents home as soon as you turned eighteen and moved into your own flat, above the bakery where you currently worked. You loved working in a bakery, working with your hands, and creating amazing food, you couldn’t be happier. Scratch that you would be happier if you knew what had happened to Harry, you hadn’t heard from him since that fateful day.

You had everything packed in the car when your dad decided to tell your cousin Harry that you would not be leaving. That he didn’t believe that you were all in danger from some of, as your uncle put it, “his lot”. That this was in fact all a plot to get the house that you currently stood in.

“Oh shove it, dad,” you said deciding to speak up, “Like Harry would want the house that you made feel like a prison, or did you forget that you literally put bars on his window?” He stared at you wide-eyed, you rarely ever spoke out against your parents, you preferred to stay in the background. You didn’t let him start speaking before you continued, “You may have treated him like a pebble in your shoe but even after all the shit that you put him through he still cares enough about you to make sure that you are safe. He wouldn’t lie about this certainly not to get this house from you. If Harry says that we are in danger then we are in danger so get your fat ass out that door into your car so we can get out of here.” Vernon’s face had turned cherry red and he stared at you with a look like a fish trying to breathe air.

“I-wha-you…” He stopped trying to speak when the look you gave him showed that there was no room for debate so he turned on his heel and stomped out the door. Dudley paused and looked at Harry saying in a quiet voice

“I never thought of you as a waste of space” To which Petunia lost her mind about how thoughtful Duddley was while you and Harry looked at each other. Rolling your eyes, you started shooing them towards the door. You turned towards Harry once you got to the doorway, and threw your arms around him,

“Be safe, I love you, and please find me when this is all over.” You looked up at him with wet eyes, “Remember Harry, you deserve to be loved and you deserve happiness, hopefully, you will get that once this is all over.” He gave you a small sad smile before pulling you back into a tight hug.

“You were the only person who loved me for most of my life and I will always love you for that, I’ll miss you and if I make it through this war alive I will do my very best to find you.” You took a step back-breaking out of the embrace, you gave him one last sad smile and walked out the door to join your parents and brother in the car.

The owner of the bakery that you worked at had gone home for the day so you currently had the place to yourself. The owner was working towards having you help run the bakery, so she left you to run it by yourself often. Your ideas for new items were creative and she had no idea where you got the ideas for the looks of some of the goodies. You had gotten a couple of books from Harry over his years at Hogwarts that inspired you. You were currently in the back working on an idea for a new pastry when you heard the front bell ring.

“Just a second!” you called out, wiping your hands on your apron you walked towards the front counter, looking up as you walked through the doorway you froze. “Harry? Is that you?” you muttered not quite believing your eyes.

“Hey cousin, I told you I’d find you.” That was all it took for you to run around the counter and throw your arms around his neck, you could see some new scars and he looked a little tired but he was alive and in front of you. “I have a favor to ask of you,” He stated, still hold you tightly in his hug, you looked up at him stepping away from the hug

“Anything” you replied. He smiled

“I have someone I want you to meet,” He said turning, towards the door he called out “Ginny, you can come in now.” The door opened to reveal a beautiful redhead in overalls. Harry proceeded to introduce the two of you telling you that Ginny was, in fact, his girlfriend. You were overjoyed at the news and couldn’t wait to get to know her better. “I wanted you to meet her because you are my family and I want you to approve of the girl that I am in love with.” he told you, “With that being said I was hoping that you could join us for dinner tonight, I want you to meet the people that have been my family for the past couple of years when I wasn’t able to be around you.” You beamed up at him,

“I would love that! I just have a couple of things to finish up here before I can go, would you like to come and sit in the back with me so that we can talk while I bake?” Nodding you all headed to the back and talked, you talked about everything that had happened in the past year. You couldn’t be happier, and you couldn’t wait to meet and thank the people that had loved Harry even when you weren’t able to be there for him.

You were finally done with closing up the bakery so you brought Harry and Ginny upstairs to your flat so that you could get changed before meeting her family. You had decided that if you were going to make a good impression that you had to bring some food along with you as well. You finally decided on some cream puffs you had shaped like dragons and some custard tarts that had nutmeg sprinkled in the shape of fireworks on top. You finally decided to wear a cute flowy blouse and a pair of high waisted jeans with your converse, cute but not over the top. You placed your goodies into a bag and walked over to your cousin and his girlfriend.

“Alright I’m ready,” you said, “sorry it took so long for me to finish up at the bakery.”

“It’s alright,” came the reply from Ginny, “we warned mom that we may not get back until a little later, so she should only just be finishing up dinner.” The way she spoke made you wonder how she could possibly be confident in getting there on time if you hadn’t even left the house yet. Harry saw your confusion and smiled.

“Don’t worry cuz, we won’t be traveling there by car, we will be using floo powder, it’ll get us there much quicker.” He stated as if that cleared everything up. Instead of asking the obvious questions of, what on earth are you talking about and what is floo powder, you decided to just follow along and watched as he walked over to the fireplace.

“Ok y/n just watch what Ginny does and then I’ll show you so that you can go before me.” You simply nodded knowing that you trusted Harry and he must have a plan. You watched as Ginny brought out a small bag and pulled some ash looking substance from it, she then handed it to harry before standing straight saying “the burrow” and throwing down the powder. In a puff of green smoke she vanished, you walked over to the fireplace, looked in then looked at harry.

“So I guess that means that we are using magic to get there?” He chuckled at your reaction and nodded

“That’s right, that was floo powder it allows you to travel between fireplaces in what is called the floo network, now it’s your turn.” You looked at him in concern

“My turn?”

“ Yes cuz, your turn, it’s very easy, you’re going to get in the fireplace, grab some of the powder then very clearly say, ‘The Burrow’ immediately throwing the powder down and you will be there in no time!”

Following his instruction, you climbed into the fireplace with your goodies feeling a little stupid, and next thing you knew you were stumbling out of a completely different fireplace coughing. You tripped while falling out and were caught by a very tall, very good looking redhead.

“Watch it love, can’t have you falling over,” he stated smiling at you. You heard a whooshing sound behind you and turned in time to see harry calmly stepping out of the fireplace you had just vacated. He smiled when he saw Fred’s arm on you.

“Great, you’re here!” Harry stated, “The first time I used Floo powder I ended up in the wrong place, so I’m glad to see that you didn’t make the same mistake.” You glared at him for a second,

“You mean to tell me that I could have ended up in some random fireplace but you still had me do that?” The redhead whose arm was still on you laughed

“She’s got you there mate, why didn’t you just apparate?” Harry shrugged and you finally took a moment to look around you, it was a cozy house, you could see that the dishes in the sink were cleaning themselves, because why not, and the clock on the wall had faces on it, all of them currently pointing to a spot that simply said home. You were enchanted. You were quickly pulled out of your amazement by the man beside you calling out,

“Oi, Harry, are you going to introduce us to this lovely lady or not?” You saw Harry blush and murmur a “sorry” before he walked over to you and started to introduce you to everyone.

“To start off the man that you stumbled into is Fred, he is one half of the twins and a real trickster, he and his brother own an amazing joke shop in Diagon Alley.” The man, who you now knew as Fred, bowed dramatically, and kissed you on the hand,

“At your service,” he said smirking up at your blushing cheeks before he was pushed out of the way by someone who looked almost identical to him except that he was missing an ear,

“Since Harry is doing a terrible job at it I’ll take the liberty to introduce myself, George Weasley at your service, I ear you are the only respectable Dursley.” He joked, getting a smack on the head from a shorter plump woman who hurried up to you

“Molly Weasley, dear it is so wonderful to finally meet you, we have heard so much about you from Harry, I’m so glad he had someone to trust while he lived with your family. You must be hungry, come let us go to the table and you can meet everyone else there.” she rambled drawing you out of the crowd and towards the dinner table. You smiled and handed the desserts to her as you walked to the table, smiling softly at the way she tsked muttering something about not needing to bring anything and that they were just happy to have you here. You were soon introduced to everyone else as you sat at the table, Fred rushed over to take the spot next to you much to the chagrin of the other Weasleys. You smiled at their playfulness, it was so different than anything you and Harry had experienced as children, you could see why he loved it here so much. As the meal progressed you found yourself speaking more and more to the twin sitting next to you, you shared how different your experiences as twins were and he talked to you about the joke shop while you talked about working in the bakery. Fed couldn’t help but be fascinated by you, you were nothing like what he expected any of the Dursleys to be. You were sweet and funny and absolutely stunning. He could see some of the flour behind your ear that you had missed while getting ready and the spark in your eyes when you talked about baking. His admiration for you was cemented when Mrs. Weasley brought out your desserts. He just started at the tart and cream puff in front of him, could you be any more perfect? He was brought out of his thoughts by your voice,

“Hey, Harry, want to tell them about the time we pranked Duddley into thinking he was a wizard?” Harry laughed loudly and began the story of how you worked together to find ways to make unexplainable things happen around Duddley to the point he ran crying to your parents because he thought that he was a weirdo like Harry. You had both gotten into the worst trouble of your lives that day. You thought Petunia might just kill the two of you but luckily it just involved being locked in your room with no supper for a week. It was so worth it. You didn’t notice how Fred looked at you the rest of the night but George and Harry did, and when they caught each other’s eyes they knew that they had to make a plan to get you together.

Sadly the night ended and you had to head back to your flat, you did have work in the morning. Harry, was helping Molly clean so he called for “Freddie” to take you home. You saw the quick glare that Fred gave Harry, and wondered what he could mean by it, were you that bad of company. But you decided not to say anything, you had just met and there were a hundred reasons why Fred would glare at Harry. Fred walked to you and took your hand smiling said

“If I’m the one taking you home then I am doing this my way. Think about your home very clearly in your mind.” you did as he asked leaning a little closer to him while you did, you heard a pop and felt your stomach flip over. “Perfect,” came a voice from above you, “We made it” You opened your eyes and were surprised to see that you were in your living room. You decided to make the most of having Fred here with you and asked if he would like to stay and have some hot chocolate. He agreed and you spent the next couple of hours sitting under a blanket on the couch drinking hot chocolate and laughing together. He finally had to leave around midnight since you had the morning shift the next day. Before leaving he gave your hand a quick kiss and muttered a soft thank you, you then heard a pop and he vanished. You smiled to yourself hoping that you would get to see more of the handsome redhead over the next few months.

Your hopes were answered when in the morning you heard the front bell ding and looking up from your kneading saw the redhead that you had fallen asleep dreaming about the night before. You wiped your hands off and walked to the front,

“And how sir, can I help you this morning?” you asked, putting on an over the top customer service voice.

“Well,” Fred spoke with a slight smirk, “What I would really like is for you to go to dinner with me” You could see the nervousness behind his eyes as he spoke trying to look as confident as possible. You decided to tease him a little bit

“Are you asking me on a date, Fred Weasley?” He looks at you with thoughtful eyes,

“Would you like it to be?” You tapped your chin as if you were thinking hard before replying with a smile,

“I wouldn’t mind going on a date with you. I still have a couple of hours left in my shift. Would you like to join me in the back until my shift is over, I can show you how to make those custard tarts.” Without answering he marched over to you, grabbed your hand, and pulled you towards the back as you laughed at his behavior. He watched mesmerized as you worked, certain that there had to be some sort of magic involved for you to create the things you did. You assured him that you were in no way magical you just loved to bake. He joked with you about the flour that flew out of the mixer when you first turned it on, and you decided to get him back by throwing some in his face. Finally, around lunch the owner came in to relieve you and let you head home, she was very interested in the “handsome young man” that was helping you at the counter. You pulled Fred up with you to your apartment, the whole time he was making jokes about “not being that easy”, that he’s surprised at how forward you were and, “at least buy me dinner first love.” All of which you laughed at and shook your head letting him know that he would have to work a lot harder if he wanted to have sex with you anytime soon. Fred may have internalized that and thought to himself ‘challenge accepted.’ You left him in the living room as you cleaned up and changed into something cuter. He couldn’t help the butterflies that erupted in his stomach when you walked back in the living room giving him a smirk and a twirl at his wide eyes.

After that first date he would come over to the bakery all the time, most of the time you would end up going up to your flat and having dinner before staying up and talking until it got late. He would then give you a kiss on the cheek and say goodbye before apparating back to his flat. It became a sort of pattern for the two of you until one day when he showed up at your flat on your day off. Marching into your house he stated that you would be going with him to see Diagon Alley, “Come on love, time for you to see my world.” he said with a flourish, bringing his arm up for you to grasp like a gentleman you giggled at how cheesy he was and grabbed onto his outstretched arm. Next thing you know there was a pop and you were in front of a dirty looking pub. You looked over at Fred and raised your eyebrow, he smirked at your confusion, “Trust me, love, not everything is as it seems.” he then led you though a large pub to a back courtyard and tapping the bricks with his wand the wall parted showing you the world behind it. You couldn’t help but let your jaw drop as you saw Diagon Alley for the first time. Smiling at your reaction Fred dragged you passed all of the shops until you stopped in front of the one with a giant animatronic man that looked suspiciously like the man standing next to you.

“So I’m guessing this is yours?”

“What gave it away?” he asked with a laugh

“Maybe the giant moving version of you at the front” was your reply. He dragged you into the door and you felt yourself gasp, there was so much to look at you knew that you could be here for days just looking at everything.

“Freddie it’s amazing” He proudly walked you through the shop showing you the greatest hits, you’d have time to look at everything else later, he insisted. You paused in front of the love potion,

“Does this really make you fall in love with someone?” you asked intrigued.

“More like deep infatuation, but it is supposed to smell like the things you love. Want to smell?” You took a whiff and were surprised that one of the things you smelled was similar to the man standing next to you. You of course didn’t make this fact known to him instead, deciding to keep this revelation to yourself. He finally pulled you upstairs to his flat to have tea and watch a movie. As the movie progressed you felt yourself get more and more sleepy. You felt Fred’s warmth next to you and the blanket that you were sharing smelled like him and all you could think about was how much you wanted to snuggle close to him and fall asleep. A few minutes later you finally gave in to your inner thoughts and cuddled close to him He simply smiled and wrapped his arm around you to pull you closer. The last thing you felt before falling asleep was a light kiss on your head and Fred Whispering “Good night my love.” In the morning you woke up in bed… funny you don’t remember going to bed. You quickly realized that it wasn’t your bed and that you were cuddled up to someone. You turned your head and noticed Fred fast sleep behind you, you smiled and flipped around so that you were facing him. He cracked open an eye and muttered “Mornin, love” in a voice still deep from sleep. It was then that you realized just how far you had fallen for the man in front of you. You looked into his eyes and saw a look on his face that you knew was mirrored on your own. You leaned in, feeling him doing the same, you paused a handsbreadth away, glancing up at his eyes you whispered “kiss me, please.” Immediately his lips were on yours, soft at first but getting more and more hungry, you nipped at his bottom lip and the moan that he let out was the most amazing sound you had ever heard. You finally pulled away because, air, and you were both beaming like idiots. “Guess this means your mine now, eh love?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out smiling, “I guess it does.” You chuckled “I wonder what Harry is going to say to this.”

“Harry? I bet he and George had a bet going, all I’m wondering about is who won.”

#Harry Potter #dursley family #vernon dursley #petunia dursley #dudley dursley #fred weasley #fred x reader #fred weasley imagine

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