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somnambulants · 3 years

Note

i love your writing!! could you maybe do something with exes to lovers with nat?

word count: 3.9K notes: thanks for the request! i’m glad you like my writing! i also may...have started thinking about writing a second part because im super attached to this fic. let me know if thats something you guys would be interested in!

“Barton, you’re such a –“

Your world stops turning at the sound of that voice, everything else becoming static. It doesn’t matter that you’re standing in a room full of people that you’re supposed to be impressing.

It’s been over ten years since you’d last heard that voice.

Vaguely, you know that Captain America is speaking to you but the only thing you can pay attention to is her.

You turn slowly, and the second you lay eyes on her you know for sure.

It’s definitely her.

You see it the second she spots you too.

In all the time you’d known her, she’d always been so much more proficient at hiding things than you but you still see the way her eyes widen as she takes you in and the way her face shifts into something that resembles shock before she manages to mask it.

“Nat!”

You startle a little, having now somehow completely forgotten that Captain America was next to you and that you were in the middle of a tour of your new workplace the second you’d landed eyes on her.

Oh god.Your new workplace.

Your new workplace that was also clearly her workplace.

As she approaches, you futilely look for every possible way you can escape. “This is Y/N. Fury’s informant while Agent Emery is on reconnaissance. Y/N this is Natasha Romanoff.”

Natasha? Romanoff? Absurdly, you have the sudden urge to laugh.

She really couldn’t have come up with a better name after fleeing the country all those years ago? It’s a surprise to you that you hadn’t heard about her sooner with that alias.

Pushing that thought away and hoping that your face shows the professionalism you’re trying to convey, you straighten your spine and clear your throat. “Nice to meet you.”

Captain America’s eyes flick between the both of you. Maybe you’re not doing as good a job as you’d thought.

Natalia-Natasha takes the hand you extend to her and shakes it. “Likewise,” she says, and you hate the way your body still reacts to her voice all these years later; hate the way her touch still makes you feel.

Even more so, you hate that you don’t know what it is you’re feeling more of as you look into her eyes: fury or heartbreak.

She makes a flimsy –well flimsy to you – excuse and leaves the conversation after that. You watch her walk away, clenching the hand she’d touched into a fist as you resist the urge to put it through the wall next to you.

Somehow you think you’d have a hard time explaining it to the man still standing next to you, who is now watching you with a thoughtfully puzzled but not suspicious expression.

Not yet, anyway.

Your dreams that night are fitful and full of her. The first time you’d met, you’d been nothing more than children.

There are no children in red room though. Only fighters and a fighter, she definitely was.

You? Not so much. You’d never been designed to last more than a day in that place and you wouldn’t have, if not for her.

Natalia throws you back against the mat, again and then again and again. Each time you stand up with more difficulty until eventually, she throws you down so hard your vision blurs for a second.

You never had a chance against her, something you knew before you even stepped foot into the room and you know they must have known that too when they set you up against the most experienced fighter here.

It’s abundantly clear you’ve been set up to fail.

The next time she hits you, your legs give out beneath you and you can’t bring yourself to get up this time, even though you know what’s going to happen to you if you don’t.

You know how this works.

Bracing yourself for impact, you close your eyes and wait. It’s pathetic. You know.

The final blow never comes. When you finally crack open an eye, you find Natalia, arms crossed, just gazing down at you.

It might have been your imagination but her eyes don’t seem quite as hard as they had been before.

She extends a hand after a second of her just watching you and you watching her. A little part of you is convinced it’s a trick; that the second you take her hand, you’re going to fail whatever test this is.

Still, against your better judgement you take her hand and, rather than the macabre images playing out in your mind, instead she actually helps you stand, surprisingly gentle as she does so.

She gives you a second to reorient yourself and then her whole demeanour changes, turning cold and stiff as she crouches down back into a fighting position.

“Try again.”

Just as abruptly, you’re thrown into another and another. Quick flashes of the past that still haunt you.

Natalia taking you on your first mission.

Natalia holding your hand as you cried over the body of the first man you’d killed.

Natalia lying beside you on your mattress, running her hands through your hair gently when your nightmares became so bad you’d go days without sleeping.

Years and years of training. Years of bruises and broken bones. Mission after mission. Somehow, it’s all maybe not-quite worth it but it almost is – almost – because of her.

When you kiss her for the first time, you think that might be the first time either of you has had any control over what you do with your bodies.

You can't remember a time where you'd had something you'd ever wanted and you wanted her so badly.

You can’t get enough of it. Or her.

And then, one day, you wake up and she’s just... gone.

The next morning, feeling irritable and exhausted from your disturbed sleep, you walk into the avengers training room and find the one person you’d been hoping wouldn’t be there.

Of course, your mind spitefully whispers because of course it wasn’t enough for the universe to thrust her back into your life but it had to throw her in your face too.

When you enter, she has her back to you but you know she knows you’re there by the way her back stiffens slightly.

You watch as she stands up straighter at the words you throw at her back, unable to help yourself: “What is this? Babysitting duty? I think we’re passed that, aren’t we?”

She turns to you. “I usually come here early,” is all she says. She doesn’t respond to the bite in your voice.

You make a non-committal sound and then just decide to ignore her, stomping past her to make your way to the far corner of the room. You work by yourself in peace for about ten minutes before you hear the sound of footsteps and all of a sudden she’s in front of you.

“I need a partner,” she says.

You have the urge to laugh in her face, before it strikes you how cathartic it would be to punch her right now, no matter how childish it might be, so you stand, letting the weight you’d been holding drop back to the floor with a loud thud, and follow her across the room.

You both crouch down in anticipation and you take a second to really look at her.

Her expression is unreadable. The pang you feel when you realise that surprises you.

There had been a time when you’d known her like the back of your hand and now she's nothing more than a stranger standing in front of you.

It hurts a lot more than you’d thought it would.

This continues for weeks. You don’t know why you let it happen but you do. You get up early; you go to the gym; you spar with her and then you fulfil the duties you’d been hired to do.

It’s almost easy to slip back into that headspace of your whole life revolving around her. Because it does. All you do is think about her when you’re not around her.

Over those weeks, you still barely speak a word to her because at least if you don’t speak, you have some kind of power.

To your surprise, she lets you ignore her, lets you pretend you don’t hear her whenever she speaks and you resent her a little more for that. You’d rather she hated you as much as you want to hate her.

It would make it all so much easier.

Eventually, though, you break.

You’re not strong enough to ignore your desire to know everything; to know how she’d ended up here. And why she’d clearly cared enough to stick around and try and save the entire world when you, a single person, hadn’t even been worth enough for her to stay.

“Why,” you pant, mid spar one morning. She’s kicking your ass, as usual. “Why here? Why the avengers?”

You’d sworn to yourself you’d never ask her this question but the yearning to know has been burning inside you since you’d walked into this building over a month ago now.

Equally as breathless, Natasha drops the careful façade she’d had up and looks at you with those eyes; the ones that could have made you do anything at one point in time. You’re not convinced they still couldn’t. “I wanted to do better… be better than what we were…. Isn’t that why you’re here, too?”

That answer hurts you more than any of the hits she’s landed on you this morning. And there’s been a lot. She’s still the superior fighter, even if she had left so long before you.

God, those words hurt to hear. Especially to have you lumped in with the clearly bad part of her life, whether it was her intention or not.

Maybe that’s why you say what you say next. Maybe there’s a little part of you wishes this whole situation would hurt her as much as it hurts you.

“How… uncharacteristic of you,” you ignore the last part of her sentence because honestly: you don’t know why you’re here. You feel like you’ve been lost and drifting your whole life and the only thing that had ever made sense to you was her.

You know your bitterness has bled into your voice with your words but you don’t make any effort to mask it. And if you can hear it, she definitely can too.

In the blink of an eye, she stops sparring with you, straightening up quicker than even you can catch. You let out a breathless huff of air as she grabs the front of your shirt pulling it so you’re forced forward until you’re almost nose to nose with her.

You hate that for a split second, before you can control yourself, you lean in slightly. As much as your mind can’t stand her, your body has no such feelings and it still wants her. You know you have no hope of hiding it from her so you don’t even bother.

“You don’t know me,” she says. The words come out of her mouth fiercely but the look in her eyes is soft, beseeching, like she wants you to hear her. “I'm not that person anymore.”

Like it matters.

It’s like you’re suspended in time for a second, and all you can think of as you look into her eyes is of the woman you knew.

You hate that you still miss her.

There’s a flicker of something in her eyes that you want to believe mirrors the torrent of emotions currently taking over you – the sadness, the anger, the grief – but you know better than to have hope when it comes to her.

You know all too well how it ends. And you’ve had enough of false hope.

Typically, in a fight, you know Natasha would come out on top – has every time -- but she’s never had your anger directed at her the way it is now and she isn’t expecting the way you’re practically vibrating with it as you shove her away, so hard that she stumbles backwards, only just managing to stay on her feet.

“Clearly,” you spit at her as you straighten up, and start walking towards the exit.

You know she’s still just standing there in the same spot. You can feel her eyes on you.“Yeah, run away,” she mutters under her breath.

It’s the first time she’s shown you the attitude you’d been giving her for weeks and her reaction is justified, you can admit it, but you don’t care.

You spin around, fury overtaking you as you advance on her until you’re pinning her against the wall behind her. “Sorry,” you hiss, glaring into her eyes. “I forgot you’re the only one who can do that.”

“That was different.”

You laugh. It’s not a nice one. It sounds like an injured animal trying to claw it’s way out of your throat.

“Why? Because it was you doing it? Excuse me for not being —“

All of a sudden, she’s kissing you. Or you’re kissing her.

Either way, you’re kissing and you don’t know how exactly it happened but you know that you can’t get enough of her; can’t get her close enough even though there’s no longer even an inch of space between you.

She flips your positions, tugging you closer, and you’re abruptly bathed in cool air as she rips your shirt off you, shoving you against the wall.

Your heart picks up rapidly as she kneels in front of you, easing the rest of your clothes off in one fluid moment.

“I hate you. So much,” you tell her as you step out of your pants and it’s not convincing even to you. Still, you repeat it again and again as she kisses down your body – so tenderly and gently that your voice starts to wobble.

You hate it. You hate her.

She looks up at you from in between your legs, now on her knees. It’s such a vulnerable position that you find you can’t look at her and you have to close your eyes. Natasha digs her nails into your thighs as she forces them apart.

“Look at me,” she demands. Her grip tightens until you obey; you know you’re going have crescent shaped bruises tomorrow. Her gaze is soft and tender and just all consuming. You know there’s no coming back from it. You’d never had a chance, even back when you didn’t mind not having one. “Don’t look away.”

You don’t, not even when she finally, finally, touches you and your head falls back against the wall.

You hold her gaze the entire time knowing how incredibly stupid this is and not caring at all about how much you’ll regret it later when you’re thinking straight.

And regret it, you do.

You stop working out early. You walk the other way in the halls if you see her. You know people are catching on that something is going on between the both of you; have caught multiple avengers giving you quizzical looks whenever you’re in the same room and it makes you feel even worse than before.

You channel all that regret into something more meaningful and commit to doing a damn good job at what you were actually here for. And you do. You can admit you do a fantastic job.

Every time you hand a report in or come back from a mission, you swear see a glimmer of approval in Fury’s eyes. Something you’d heard was notoriously hard to come by.

You must have done something really shitty in a past life though because after weeks of throwing yourself into your temporary duties, you walk into your temporarily office and are immediately flagged down by Fury, who debriefs you on the details of a mission he’s sending you on.

You’re thrilled for about three seconds until you see the name of the person you’re going with.

Agent Natasha Romanoff.

Fury is looking at you with a scrutinising expression when you look up from the file. Every time he looks at you it’s like he can see inside your soul. “Is that a problem?”

You grit your teeth and force yourself to smile. “Of course not, sir.”

It is a problem. A big problem, in fact.

You don’t speak to her on the flight there. Even though it’s only the two of you confined in the aircraft. You don’t even so much let yourself look at her. You can feel her looking at you multiple times, though, even though she’s piloting and should only be looking at the course in front of you.

There are no words exchanged between you all day beyond the times you absolutely have to speak.

At least not until you reach the tiny hotel room you’d been given.

The second the door closes behind you both, she turns to you and opens her mouth and maybe it’s cowardly but you cut her off before she even start speaking.

“I’m going to have a shower,” you say and flee the room with your entire carry-on, worried that if you pause to sift through your things, she’ll keep talking.

Still in the same spot, the look on Natasha’s face when you emerge from the bathroom is full of clear exhaustion. You hate the way it makes you feel. Empty. Sad. It’s exhausting for you trying to convince yourself you hate her.

“I’m sorry I left,” she says and you freeze. “I wanted to come back. Find you. I just didn’t know - i didn’t know if you even wanted me to.”

You’ve wanted to hear those words for so long. Now you have you don’t know what to do. “Why did you leave?”

She hesitates. The look in her eyes tells you you’re not going to get a full answer. That as open as she’s trying to be, you still don’t get to know why she abandoned you. “It’s a long story.”

The evasion stings. “An apology means nothing if you won’t tell me why.”

It’s an unfair thing to say. You know that but you don’t really feel like being fair right now.

You chance a look up when she doesn’t respond and find her looking down at the floor. It makes you wonder what — or who — she must still be protecting by not telling you.

It becomes apparent that she’s not going to say anything else after the silence between you drags on long enough that the tension in the air becomes almost unbearable.

You don’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing the tears in your eyes so you flick the light off and turn the lamp on your shared nightstand off, throwing the both of you into immediate darkness. It’s definitely too early to be sleeping but you don’t care.

Eventually, after laying there rigidly for what feels like hours and listening to the sounds of Natasha tossing and turning in the other bed, you finally fall asleep and are immediately thrown into dream after dream that quickly turn into fitful nightmares.

Nightmares that may be more aptly called memories. After one particularly bad one that thrusts you back into consciousness, you bolt upwards, still half asleep.

You only narrowly manage to avoid bumping straight into Natasha, who’s hovering above you, because of her hand on your shoulder holding you in place.

You flinch away from her instinctively and she backs up to give you a little space.

The only sound in the room is your heavy and desperate gasping for air. Natasha, now perched on the very edge of the bed, bites her lip, looking at you as if she knows exactly what you’d been dreaming about.

She probably does. It doesn’t take a genius to guess.

“Are you –"

“I’m fine,” you say flatly. You stare up at the ceiling, absently counting the tiles as you try to slow your breathing.

You’re hyperventilating, you know it, you just can’t get yourself to stop. You’re also sweating, it’s disgusting. You can feel how all of your clothes are stuck to you. Your hair flattened to your neck.

If you hadn’t been dealing with this for so long, you’re pretty sure that you’d think you were having a heart attack instead of a panic attack.

But you have. Been dealing with it. It’s just something you’ve come to expect now. You just never thought she’d be here to witness it.

All of a sudden, as you’re still trying to calm your breathing, the bed dips below you.

Your eyes fly open in shock to find Natasha sliding onto the mattress beside you, still on top of the covers.

Gingerly, she rests her head on the pillow next to your head and fixes her gaze on the ceiling.

It’s slight but her hand brushes against your own a few minutes later.

You suck in a breath between your teeth, but despite yourself, you let her move closer, until she’s so close you’re almost touching, and you can hear her quiet breathing.

Against your better judgement, you let your eyes slip closed again. Seeming to understand you’re not going to push her away, Natasha shifts closer, until you’re both shoulder to shoulder, the way she used to lay next to you when you had bad dreams when you were kids.

She grabs your hand, and slowly, hesitantly, she moves it to her chest where you can feel her heart thrumming rapidly under your fingertips. Surprisingly, it still works; you breathe in and out, in out in out, in time with her heartbeat.

You must at some point fall asleep because all of a sudden you can hear birds chirping outside the window and the sounds of people outside in the street.

When you open your eyes, you expect to find the spot next to you empty and the covers unruffled, as if she’d never been there at all but to your shock she’s still there beside you, awake and on top of the covers.

The circles under her eyes make you think she must not have slept at all.

You slide out of the bed and head towards the bathroom without saying a word, where you turn the shower on and just sit under the spray for what must be at least an hour, letting the water run over you and trying not to think.

This time when you return, she’s gone.

The rest of the mission goes smoothly. If nothing else, you both work well together as a team. You can still read her movements like a book, and she knows to anticipate what you’re doing before you even know yourself.

The days go fine. The nights not so much. You don’t speak about it but every night you’re woken up by the same dreams and every night you wake up to find her kneeling beside you.

If you were stronger willed, you would’ve shoved her away the first time, but you can’t bring yourself to. Maybe it’s a little selfish but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

The last night of the mission is when you finally break, though. Something shifts in the air when you wake yourself up gasping and meet her eyes. The same eyes that had been blank and lifeless in your dream.

You know she feels the shift as well by the way she’s looking at you, cautiously hopeful.

You don’t say anything though and neither does she. You just lay there, side by side, and watch each other carefully for what could be seconds, or it could be hours.

Her eyes are begging wordlessly: Truce?

Despite yourself, as you gaze back at her, you find yourself giving in. For tonight at least.

Truce.

#natasha romanoff x reader

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theyoutubedork · 3 years

Text

Dressing Room : Part 2

Bucky barnes x reader

Part 1, Masterlist, requests are open for business!

Warning! Smut 18+, swearing, mentions of violence, soft Bucky, also sorry this Bucky doesn’t like the daddy kink, and neither do I.

Summary: While Sharon tries to gather information about Nagel (uh huh sure, Sharon), Y/N and Bucky enjoy the party.

A/N: Ahhhh! The long awaited part 2 to Dressing Room. Y’all blew up the first one with like 800 notes and honestly holy shit. Thank you so much! Sorry this took a while but I wanted to make sure this was top tier Bucky content for y’all. So enjoy! And let me know what you think!

(Gif not mine)

You quickly finish getting ready. You catch your glance in the mirror, and you pause to look yourself over. You wear wearing an absolute statement pant. Made out of a slick velvet material, the carrot-style pants accentuate the belt with a shiny gold buckle cinching your waist. You are also wearing a nice, strong bralette, one that won’t let you down. A matching slightly oversized blazer hangs on your shoulder, long enough to hide the gun tucked at your waist band. You click your platform boots against the floor, making sure the knife you placed was secure.

Finally exiting the room, you glance to Bucky sitting on a curved couch. Sam was shirtless, deciding which suit jacket to wear, and Zemo just strolling around the room. Sam and Bucky turn to you, both giving you a small smile. You smile towards them. Zemo tries to do the same, but you just glare at him. You still don’t trust that little shit within an inch of your life. He retreats to a chair across the room. You saunter your way over to the leather couch, leaning your elbows on the back of it, leaning forward. You look to your left at Bucky, who’s sitting at the other end. Bucky gives you a quick look at your cleavage, making you chuckle under your breath. You see his tongue swipe over his lips shamelessly, making you feel a familiar ache downstairs. He finally notices your smug look, and you see his cheeks heat up. He looked to Sam and Zemo, who weren’t paying attention. Bucky returns to you, shyly smirking at you.

“You look nice,” Bucky murmurs. You wrinkle your nose at him, partially unable to cope with how cute he was being. Minutes before this interaction, he was knuckles deep inside you, making you nearly pass out with how much you needed to scream his name. But here he was, back to the shy glances.

“Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself,” You smirk at him, fully aware of his concealed hard on. Before you could make an alluding comment, you hear heeled footsteps approaching.

You see Sharon walk into the room, turning her gaze to Sam, still shirtless.

“Much better,” she taunts, smugly walking into the room. You roll your eyes. Sharon has been rubbing you the wrong way as soon as she had a gun pointed at your head, a couple hours prior. Something was definitely off about her. She’s a lot more arrogant from the last time you interacted.

“What’s going on Sharon? You don’t ever wanna come back home?” Sam asking the question on all your minds. Sharon drops her jacket right next to Bucky on the couch.

“They’ll lock me up if I step foot back in the states. Madripoor doesn’t allow extradition.” She drones on, walking over to a nearby table.

“Look I’m sorry I didn’t call, but after the Blip, and the chaos, I just...” Sam tries to explain, before Sharon interrupts him with a snide tone.

“Look, you know the whole hero thing is a joke, right?” She says, flicking her hair back, “I mean, the way you gave up that shield, deep down, you must know its all hypocrisy.” You scoff at the last part. You didn’t necessarily agree with Sam giving up the shield, since it ended up being put in unworthy hands, but you knew that he did it because he thought it was right.

“He knows. And not so deep down,” Zemo tries to add, but you crack your knuckles in his direction, giving him a harsh glower, taking in a sharp exhale in anger. Zemo, slightly cowers, avoiding eye contact.

“By the way, how is the new Cap?” Sharon directs to the four of you.

“He’s a total prick,” You grunt and the same time Bucky drawls,

“Don’t get me started.” Sharon lets out a light scoff,

“Please. You buy into all that Stars and Stripes bullshit,” she says, rounding the corner of the couch, motioning over to Zemo.

“Before you were his pet psychopath, you were Mr. America, Cap’s best friend!” She mocks him, biting her lip in a giddy smile when she sits next to Bucky.

“Wow. She’s kind of awful now.” Bucky adds. You bite your lip from chewing out Sharon, knowing you need her help.

“Karli Morgenthau and at least seven other have taken the serum,” Sam explains, fixing his suit jacket.

“You guys really should steer clear of all of this, for your own saftey,” Sharon encourages, but you shake your head in her direction.

“Nope,” you say with a pop of your lip, annoyed at Sharon’s bitter attitude.

“We know it’s a risk, but we’re not gonna leave until we find the one who cracked the code.” Sam alludes to the super serum.

“We got a name. Wilfred Nagel.” Bucky offers. Sharon gets up form the couch. You circle the couch after she steps away to sit next to Bucky. You cross your arms in legs, still untrustworthy of Sharon.

“Nagel works for the Power Broker.” She deflects, going over to the liquor table to pour herself a glass.

“We need your help, Sharon. I can get your name cleared,” Sam call after her.

“You haggling with my life?” She seethes, pouring herself a glass from the crystalline whiskey bottle at the table Zemo was seated at.

“Not like that.”

“I don’t buy that. You pretending like you can clear my name.”

“Okay, maybe it is hypocrisy. Maybe you’re right, what happened to you,” Sam challenges, getting up from his chair to approach Sharon on the other side of the room. You share a tense glance with Bucky.

“But I’m willin’ to try if you are,” Sam gestures to Bucky, “They cleared the bionic staring machine, and he killed almost everybody he’s met,”

“I heard that,” Bucky retorts.

“I don’t trust charity,” Sharon replies, and those words make you dig your nails into the couch, puncturing a few holes into the cushion. How could she talk about Bucky like that? He helped fight against Thanos and did everything he could to convince everyone that he isn’t that person anymore. You also knew that Bucky hated other peoples pity, so Sharon’s words made his jaw clench tightly.

“All right a deal then. You help us out, and I can get your name cleared.” Sam offers his hand and Sharon reluctantly accepts. She sighs, taking a gulp from her glass.

“Well, I sell to some pretty connected people. Law low, blend, enjoy the party.” She says, walking towards the flight of stairs.

“Try to stay outta trouble. I’ll see what I can find.”

“Trouble,” Zemo quips.

“Shut it,” You growl at him.

Sharon’s gallery has turned into a full out club, sweaty bodies jumping and grinding to the pulsing beat. You didn’t know how long Sharon would take, but guessing on how engrossed she is in selling to her clients, you figured it would be a while. It had been around and hour, and you finally found Bucky, leaning against the bar. You notice Sam and Zemo weren’t around, so you put on your most flirtatious smile as you approach. He looks you up and down, biting his lip for what seemed to be the millionth time.

“You have to stop biting your lip like that, you’re gonna make them bleed.” You comment, situating yourself nest to him, leaning against the bar, mirroring him so you can get even closer.

“What’s wrong with that?” Bucky asks you with a raised brow, curious about your fascination with his lips. You smirk, taking your hand to smooth the lapel of his jacket. It’s a beautiful black leather, and it makes him look absolutely incredible. You are basically drooling at the sight of him.

“Well if we were planning on continuing our “conversation” from earlier, I’d prefer to have your lips not bloody.” You wink at him, and he lets out a small laugh.

“Would you call that a conversation?” He teases.

“I’m trying to be subtle here Barnes, I’d prefer it if you played along,” You remarked, making Bucky’s sly smile grow ever wider.

“Well, would you like to continue this “conversation” elsewhere?” He suggest, stepping closer to you, close enough for you to feel his minty breath fanning your cheeks.

“I would love to,” you say coquettishly, grabbing his hand and leading him towards a more private area.

As soon as the door closes to the private bathroom, Bucky cannot keep his hands off of you, he pushes you up onto the marbled counter, grinding himself between your thighs as he greedily swirls his tongue against yours. You quickly remove your gun from the waist band, placing it gently to the side. Bucky notices this and breaks the kiss, quickly discarding his weapons and also his suit jacket for good measure. He look at you once more, and smirks at you.

“Who knew you could wear a suit better than me doll?” He breathes, taking off your oversized jacket and throwing it onto the floor. He feels up your bare skin, lunging for your neck to give you marks that will definitely be noticed by Sam later.

“What, would you prefer me in one of those 1940s dresses, like all those girls you used to dance with?” You retort, grabbing onto his hair with a small moan as he nips at your skin.

“I wouldn’t oppose,” He responds, lifting his head to look at you, “but I like you just the way you are,” You heart flutters at this, he hasn’t said anything as romantic as that before, and your body warms up even more.

“Aww, were you always this sweet to them right before you fucked them?” You tease crudely and Bucky lets out a light laugh.

“No darling, just you,” He stressed, and those familiar butterflies you have been acquainted with came back.

“This is all very sweet, Bucky, but I’d like you to fuck me now,” you whine. All the while Bucky was telling you these sweet affirmations, he has been grinding his dick into your core.

“So needy,” He chuckled, helping you get you get out of your velveteen trousers before letting his pool at his ankles. He pushes your underwear to the side, using his fleshed hand to swipe up your folds. You let out a shuddered breath as he rests a finger at your clit, rubbing it at an agonizingly slow pace.

“So wet for me already, couldn’t stop thinking about me making you cum in your little dressing room, hmm?” He questions, leaning up close to your face before locking his lips with yours in a passionate kiss.

“Please Bucky-“

“Don’t call me that,”

“What, James? Daddy?”

“No, anything but that.”

“Fine, how about baby?”

“Baby works for me,”

“Who knew you were so soft?” You chirp at him, placing a hand on his cheek, “Will you please fuck me now?”

“Since you asked so nicely,” He surrenders and before you could even blink he’s already inside you. He had already taken out his dick while you weren’t looking.

“Fuck! Baby-“ You yelp, digging your fingernails into his shoulders.

“God you feel so good,” He grunts, smashing his lips against yours as he starts thrusting at a brutal pace. The smack of his skin against yours makes you so turned on that you let out a wanton moan against his lips. He bites on your bottom lip as he does a particularly sharp thrust, and you cry out in pleasure. His metal hand does decent work on your clit. Already bringing you close to the edge.

“Baby, oh my god,”

“You close angel?” He hissed, getting lost his is own leisure as well.

“Yes, please don’t stop-“ You beg, as he thrusts even faster that you think a man can thrust. Must be that serum.

“Not planning to, cum for me doll,” He encourages, working even faster at you clit. His words make you finally let go, letting out a sinful moan that is soon swallowed by Bucky’s lips as he also catches his release. He fills your walls quite nicely, thankfully you’re religious with your birth control, so nothing to worry about.

As you both calm down from your release, Bucky gives you a loving peck on the lips,

“Sorry, didn’t mean to cum so quick, you had me wanting you ever since you put on that dress,” He apologizes, helping to clean you up with a warm towel he miraculously had ready.

“It’s ok, you already made me cum twice, and most men I’ve been with lucky to get one. This is a win in my book,” you joke and Bucky gives you a grateful smile.

After you both got your clothes back on, Bucky, pulls you into him, hands holding your waist.

“If I didn’t make it clear enough, I really like you,” He slightly stammers. You giggle at his nervousness, looking into his eyes with complete adoration. You cup his cheek.

“I like you too, so now were both crystal,” you reassure, leaning into him to give him a delicate kiss, which he gladly accepts. After you two part, he opens the door,

“We better get back before Sam suspects anything,” He suggests and you let out a loud laugh.

“I think he was catching onto us when you bit your lip raw on the airplane.”

“Shut it,” He laughs, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Oh, come on, it’s not like you were trying to be subtle,”

“Well, neither were you princess,” He whispers in your ear in a husky tone.

God this man was going to be the death of you.

#marvel #mcu #marvel x reader #mcu fanfiction #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #tfatws bucky #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #tfatws #tfatws!bucky #tfatws!bucky x reader #tfatws bucky x reader

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minshookie · 3 years

Text

High Ransom.

Pairing |Mafia!BTS x innocent!reader

Genre | smut, angst, dark themed, mafia AU.

Summary | “They all knew your mothers word was good for nothing, she’d never pay it back. So they settled for a painful compromise.”

!warnings! Please read this before reading the fic| 18+ mature language, perverse actions, virginity loss, violent sex, anal sex, oral fem and male receiving, financial struggle, parent death, strict and neglecting mother, cum eating, darcyphilia, urolagnia,slight hate-fuck,reader insert is of age, extremely naive & innocent insert. I do not agree or support any actions depicted in this fictional work,rape. !!NON-CON!! !!non-con!!

| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|

(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)

Requested [open for request] words: 4k.

A/N: 200 Follwers?! Hi, I love y’all sm 🤧. But on a serious note, this is the filthiest thing I’ve ever written, I warned y’all. Also the longest one of written yet. I hope it isn’t too much :’) please excuse any mistakes or grammatical errors.

Could they be running late? Shivering you sat in the windowsill towel wrapped around you keeping a sharp eye for their large dark SUV you loved so dearly. They were supposed to be here today, right? Getting up you stretch your legs going to look at your heavily decorated calendar,‘Friends Day!!’ In bright pink informed you, yes indeed they were to be here today.

A smile crept on your face, the confirmation made you feel giddy, the thought of seeing them again made you excited beyond belief. “Y/n I just know you’re dressed and not dripping all over the carpet!” Your mother teased from the living room. You swore she had cameras on you, unraveling yourself you chose one of the few outfits she had put together for you for guest appearances. Closing the curtains, making them look as casual as you could. You then sat on the bed waiting for her to come inspect, counting her footsteps along the creaking wood floors. She crept into your room, a stern expression on her face, you could tell she was stressed with nothing positive to say she mumbled “Stop pulling that face you look exactly like your father.”

You stood from the drab mattress choosing not to respond, “wet spot on the floor?! What’d I tell you to do?!” You hung your head, why must she always scold you. “You told me to get dressed Momma.” She sighed, “and you chose to come in here and prance around, flood the floors and dilly dally instead!” You studied the minuscule dark spots on the carpet, “they’ll dry momma.” You whispered under your breath hoping she wouldn’t decipher your response.

“Excuse me?” She griped your cheek in a pinch making you pull your head up to face her. She took a step back releasing your face, she sucked her teeth in disapproval. “Y/n you’ll have stay in here, that dress has gotten too short on you.” She knew her words hurt you, seeing the boys was the only thing you looked forward to every month. Their attention sometimes felt like your only reason to go forward, to avoid conflict with your mother, their presence being a type of reward. She turned to go and your vision began to blur, tears warmly cascade your plumped cheek.

Leaving you alone in the room, you resume your position in the windowsill moving the curtains just enough to peak. Still no sign of them, maybe they’d given up on the money, left you for good and you couldn’t blame them. If you could leave you would too. At that moment all hopes were given up, no longer keeping an eye out you began to daydream... at least Momma would be happier no longer having to worry about the escalating debt.

Sulking in loneliness you barely noticed a white SUV pulling into their usual cut....whose this? You opened the curtains repositioning,hands in the glass knees on the jagged wood of the windowsill bench. Couldn’t be, oh but it was! You bounced like a hyperactive child, Hoseok climbed from the drivers seat handsomely waving directly at you. They all followed offering you waves and air kisses making both your stomach and heart do flips. Tumbling from the bench you run to your door eccentric to get your fix of attention, affection, friendship.

“Get back y/n, what did I say?” She was waiting for you to break her command, she knew you’d forget. “To stay in my ro-” “so why don’t you do as told for once?” You fought the bitter tears as they knocked on the door, You shuffled back into your cage of room like a kicked puppy. Shutting the door you sat on the floor compressing your ear along the hard wood.

“Ah, welcome! Come in take a seat can I get you a drink or a meal? Anything really.” She spoke with a quiver, she had nothing to pay them back with absolute zilch. “Where’s y/n?” You smiled warmly, that voice had to be Taehyung. “She’s in bed sick.” “Sick, she looked alright from the window.” Hoseok you idiot. “I’m sorry... you saw her through the window?”

“Ah Ah, we didn’t come to talk about the build of y/n’s room you know what he want.” Jin was all serous business, the room was silent. “Next month for sure.” She lied right through her teeth and they all knew it. “You said that last month, and the month before, and the month before that.” You held your breath, you hated it when they bickered she honestly didn’t have the money you two only lived in this house because it was your father’s property, and everything you got just by luck and the skin of your teeth. She simply couldn’t afford to borrow anymore, as the boys began to add impossible interest.

“Listen, we’ve let you off the hook because of your circumstances,we had a soft spot, we held you at a respect for your strength...but now the well is drying up on patience and your debt is growing into a monstrosity.” Namjoon gave his spiel

“Your husband may be dead, but honey you’re next if this money doesn’t turn up...and the plans they have for y/n aren’t cute, if you had any decency you’d get your ass off that insurance money and pay up, don’t forget you pay for protection and soon you’re going to start getting what you pay for.” Yoongi was rude whenever he came to collect, almost never staying for the excuses once ‘no’ or ‘later’ was uttered he’d head for the door, but today he decided to do otherwise.

The room fell quiet, and though your mother was cold and not much of a mother at all to you it pained you to hear her sobs and sniffing. You could tell the words being thrown at her stung her deeply. Curious to what was going on behind your door you decided to have a peak, and apparently you weren’t too good at sneaking. Your door cracked ajar, as if he knew it would happen you made direct eye contact with Taehyung.

“Boys I-I don’t know what you want from me you know the money isn’t in my possession right n-” “y/n! Come out from hiding kitten!” Opening the door you stood reading the room, your mothers face glistening, you know better than to disobey on purpose. “It’s ok y/n c’mon we want to see you.” Joon’s smile is so captivating his voice so relaxing, but your mothers gaze killed its power. “C’mon tell her she can come out.” Jin orders and your mother complies by giving you a nod of permission, sniffing over her concealed cries. It ached your but you were too excited to comfort her as you quickly escaped your confines.

“Ohh look at your pretty dress, come sit.” Taehyung pulled you onto his lap, “isn’t it pretty boys?” He pulled the fringes that decorated the bottom, barely reaching you mid thigh. “Everything’s beautiful on our y/n.” Jimin agrees, greeting you with a flirtatious wink. Making you smile into Taehyung’s chest. “Bashful girl.” His large hand rubbed your back soothingly.

“This delicate little thing around all those men with no one to help her, tsk could you imagine.” He glided his hand along your exposed thigh “that tickles.” Whispering into him you feel you face warm up. He hums in response, “want me to stop?” “No, I’ve missed you, I’ve missed all of you!” You turned catching all of their gazes, “same to you princess.” Jin chuckled, giving you a cheek kiss.

“Please let her-r go ba-ck now.” Their smiles faded, and you’d hate to admit it but yours as well. You’d usually never go against your mother but she just didn’t want to see you happy, ever. And you hated it. “Momma...I don’t wanna go back right now, can I be with my friends?” Her eyes stretched in shock and anger, the boys found your rebellion comedic letting a chuckle escape. “Y/n get back to your room now you have no clue what you’re playing with!” Her tone made you wince, no longer feeling bold you were about to comply. Taehyung griped your waist holding you back on top of him.

“And who are you to order someone around when you can’t follow orders yourself?” She sat speechless, “Taehyung, Namjoon, Jin...next month.” Her pleads were pathetic, even you knew it wouldn’t work this time. “No. Pay up today, or we’ll be taking some sweet sweet collateral.”At the moment you didn’t fully understand or care what exactly Taehyung was threatening, the only thing your brain could focus on being his rough palm griping and rubbing your inner thigh. The sensation caused a tingle within you, you couldn’t help but fidget in his lap. “Still tickling baby?” You nodded, a bit too flustered to speak.

“I-I I have a hundred or two I can give.” His hand ceased its motions, making you whine for more of the foreign feeling. He lifted a brow in suspect “You take us as a joke don’t you?” She shook her head frantically. “You just offered us not even a fraction of a year's worth of debt...you think we’re idiots, you think we won’t do what we say we will do you?” The tension made you uncomfortable as everyone glared at your mother for her response, you gripped Taehyung’s dark suit. “Hmph, okay Y/n, show us your pretty room Love.”

A simple request made your mother stand in protests, “going to get the rest of the money?” Yoongi asked knowingly, your mother trembled. Why was she so afraid, they only asked to see your room...maybe she was still upset over the wet spots. “No? Well I suggest you sit the fuck down.” Everyone left from their seat, “go on show us Petal.” He smiled in encouragement. You pulled Taehyung by his hand showing all of them into your seemingly empty room, nothing to embellish the space besides your curtains, calendar and bed.

“Very cute, very cute, right boys?” They hummed nodding while looking at the four bland walls around them. “Jungkook won’t you close the door please.” He demands the youngest, and he does as told, letting your catch a two second glance if your sniveling mother before your fate was sealed. “Lock it will you?�� “Uhm it doesn’t lock.” You confessed plopping down on your plush mattress kicking your feet over the edge. “Ahh, Jungkook...make it lock.” He went to work and you watched curiously until your attention was taken by Taehyung climbing in bed next to you. “Very comfy.” He complemented.

“Oh, oh please take your shoes off.” You recited rules that were practically engraved in your memory. He laughed complying, “you heard her, shoes off.” They did as told, making your laugh at their unison actions. You turned to him with a smile still on your face, “want to see my closet?” “No, but I do want you to lay down.” You gave him an inquisitive look, you weren’t sick and you definitely weren’t tired. “It’s ok, I just wanted to play a game, a friends game.”

Oh how excited you were! A game with your friends! You laid down beside him your head rested on your pillow. “Ready?” You nodded eagerly, the rest of them watched closely. “Ok beautiful, I’m going to ask you some things and all you have to do is tell me if you’ve done it before...” he looked around at his men, they looked back with anticipation. “We’ll all play.” You nodded, beyond excited for this new experience.

“We’ll start easy, have you ever kissed someone?” Your face grew a dopey grin, “don’t be shy.” You nodded quickly, “oh? Show me how.” Sitting up a bit, you took his jaw, turning him to the side pecking his warmed cheek quickly. He smiled widely, “innocent little thing, here let’s try this.” He took your jaw in his fingers, coming in and ravishing your lips. Unknowingly you lay motionless as he took over the kiss, maneuvering you as he pleased. Pulling your slack chin he parted your lips, his tongue intruded sharing his taste. A tingle ran through you, you’ve never seen something like this let alone feel it. Taehyung pulled back trailing slobber as he lifted, “m-more more kissing!” He shook his head, laughing at your greed. “No no, there’s more to the game.”

Smirking he snuck his hand under your quaint dress, “ever let Somebody like me see your cute little panties?” You shook your head no, “let us see?” You eagerly pulled your dress up, “pretty in pink...wet your panties hmm?” Sheepishly you shut your legs, “sorry.” He rubbed your exposed tummy, “no don’t be sorry kitten, that’s great, so good.” He dragged his fingers along your pelvic area. “Yoongi, your turn?” Taehyung continued to brush your skin.

Yoongi stood from his seat on the floor in speciation. He brought his finger between your legs using his other hand to push your legs apart. “Ever felt something like this?” He ran his fingers up and down your middle, pausing along the top giving you an oddly familiar feeling that you loved. “Mm.” You moved a bit closer to the pleasure. “Yoongi stop, answer him y/n.” Nodding you yearned for yoongi’s fingers. “Don’t lie...show us.”

Rolling over you pulled a pillow from behind you positioning it between your legs as you lay on your side. “Go on.” Yoongi nudged you and you began to rub yourself, pushing the pillow firmer into your core whimpering as the pressure increased, “it feels so good!” “Naughty naughty y/n.” You continued to pleasure yourself, “mm I know, please don’t tell anybody.” Taehyung took the pillow rubbing his finger along the wet spot you left behind. “You ever cum sweetheart?” You squeeze your legs together hoping for pleasureful friction. “What’s that?”

“You’ve been rubbing yourself raw with no release?” He had a glint of pitty in his tone. “ I-I guess.” Yoongi had began his adventurous handy work once again and you couldn’t get enough. He sat beside you, looking into your eyes intently. “How’s it feel?” “Good, please don’t stop!” Taehyung pulled his partners hand away, “don’t give her too much Hyung.”

You pout squirming, itching with pent up sexual frustrations. “You both play like she’s a doll, she’s a woman, you know what she wants even if she doesn’t.” Jin came from his spot leaned against the corner, he came close stalking over your figure, “take these off.” He pulled your panties roughly you could hear the weak fabric give way as he stripped you.

“Careful.” You felt self conscious as they eyed your nude private area, Jin took over where Yoongi was removed, the direct contact could make you scream in joy, “close your eyes.” Jin ordered, and who are you to say no to the pleasure. A strange warmth took over your core making your hips jump uncontrollably “mhhm please.” “Hold her down Hoseok.” Even that simple second of neglect made you upset. Your hips were restrained and Jin continued his work, “sorry.” You opened your eyes to meet Taehyung’s gaze and a smile was plastered on his features, looking down at Jin who was kissing your privates, so strange but so amazing.

“Oh please!” You couldn’t control your moans, closing your eyes, “too good princess?” “Mm too good.” Jin removed his lips from you “you're a savage Kim.” Jungkook comments eyes glued to your core, as if he couldn’t resist the view. “Some hair shows she is healthy n’ pure , but you wouldn’t know anything about that, you like your women whorish” He comments lewdly wiping his plump lips. They stood in speculation as you pressed your thighs together desperately. “Oh please! Jin please more!” You earned a hand over your mouth. In attempts to shut your pathetic whines. “Please don’t hurt her!” Your mother beat the door with concern. “Does she sound hurt, don’t make us do something we don’t want to, now go away!” Taehyung growled, before leaving the bed, he undid his pants the respect in you made you look away. “Ever see this before?” He climbed over you, too cowardly to peak, you kept looking into his dark irises. “Your private?” He laughed in your face, “my cock?” He sat on your legs trapping you. He pulled your dress over your head, fully undressing you with ease.

Taken over my temptation, Jimin groped your clothed chest “don’t touch her.” His command was final, Taehyung had been taken by the monster of greed and lust. “Go on look y/n.” Your eyes slowly traveled down, he had himself in his clutches stroking squeezing at the tip collecting the strange ooze on the tips of his fingers. Reaching he glossed your lips with his juices, “never wear makeup, this is all you need pretty girl.” The smell was strong and musky, curious you took a taste, sweaty and sweet. “Greedy girl...you know where this belongs?” He tapped you with his erect cock.

“I don’t think so.” He nodded, reaching below himself without hesitation he penetrated you with his index. “Ouch Tae!” His eyes stretched in surprise, “that hurts? Oh what fun you’ll be.” His finger stretched you slightly as he explored, thrusting softly, curly at the knuckle. Pulling his finger back, and a thick stripe of cloudy grool connects the two of you. “Shit, would you look at that.” They came looking as you lay victim Yoongi had pulled himself from his pants stroking himself shamelessly. Hoseok unbuttoned his top, his fist buried in his pants, while Jimin palmed himself giving you a warm smile, while Jungkook sat timid away from the action and Jin’s face set stoney, seemingly uninterested. Namjoon being the false comfort he was, he stood close, his bulge in your face as he stroked your hair.

Out of breath, the best you could muster being, “I’m sorry if it’s gross.” Lustfully he used your nectar to stroke himself sensually making violent eye contact in the act.

“Stop apologizing, this is the best cunt I’ve ever seen.” Using his foreign vulgar vocabulary he moved back, using his hands to get a better view of your most personal area. “Oh honey, you’ve never had anything in this sweet pussy of yours huh?” You shook your head, “no never.” You whisper. “Let’s change that yeah? Will you be a big girl?” You nodded body full of utter curiosity, what was coming for you the last thing you could have fathomed.

“Mm, you’re the sweetest thing on Earth y/n” he gazed into you, looking your shivering body up and down as if you two were completely alone. He lowered himself distracting you with another one sided kiss, this time though you attempted to participate.

Little did you know his hidden agenda, he gripped his girthy member, massaging it along your slickening core in search of your small entrance. “Ah Ah Taehyungie!” You squealed against his lips. He’d barely pushed into you and the pain was prominent “shh shh wouldn’t want to make momma upset.” He paused and looked down at your slightly connecting bodies. “Hmm Let’s play another game.” He reached for the pillow you were pleasuring yourself on, he placed it over your face constricting your air in the process, muffling your pathetic whimpers and mewls.

In one violent action...“TEAHYUNG!” Your throat felt as if it would collapse,He forced himself into your constructing entrance ripping your walls you felt yourself struggle to become accustomed his size. His pace inhuman. You gasped for air,the pillow blocking any gasp you could get. “I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe Tae!” He kept his murderous stroke speed pulling the pillow from your face you heaved, sobbing, screaming begging for freedom. “Shut the fuck up!” It could’ve been the tears, or haze of pain, but this wasn’t your friend anymore.

Taehyung’s face as contorted in sick pleasure inconsiderate of your wellbeing he gripped your hips fucking into you aggression never seen before. “T-Tae please we’re friends don’t hurt me!” You cried out for his mercy. “Hold her fucking mouth Min.” He obliged, his hand slick from his own juices. He stood over you griping and jerking his member, keeping his eyes on yours. “Close your damn eyes, your crying is going to make me soft.” That only made you cry more, the treatment you were getting from Taehyung caused an ache you couldn’t help but sob from. “It i-it fucking hurts!” You let the filth spill from your mouth as you groaned with every thrust, your statement muffed by Yoongi’s palm.

“Close. Them. Now.” Stubbornly you kept staring, you won’t obey them, friends aren’t supposed to to hurt you, ever. “Ahh fuck.” Yoongi began to vandalize your face, removing his hand from your mouth pulling your hair to aim for your mouth. “Ah shit shit.” He continued to stroke grumbling heinous names under his breath. “My eyes please help me momma,it hurts momma!” He’d spurted right in your eye and he knew it. “I told you to close them idiotic bitch, you obey us you’ll be alright.” He took your discarded panties wiping your eye.

You didn’t listen to his angered grumblings...She didn’t respond, she left you to suffer, you were being naughty and she could hear and she left you to suffer. The pain in your eye became dull as you became numb to Taehyung’s assault. “She left you, that bitch left you in here to get fucked, and you’re going to take everything we give thanks to mommy dearest...no one is going to rescue you.” Yoongi growled I’m your ear, you turned from him. His seed still rests on your pained features.

Taehyung pushed his thumbs roughly into your abdomen making you cry out. “Your cunt is still so tight, mm fuck stop clenching like that- I’m gonna fucking- oh shit.” He sent his seed deep into you, the sensation was sickening you began to dry heave having nothing in you to throw up. “Throwing up sweetheart?” You ignored his false concern, he gripped your hair. “Think twice before you do, you’ll be cleaning it with that pretty mouth every drop.”

Your face drenched in tears, snot and slobber, and the seed of another, you lay in defeat. He pulled his member for your stinging and burning feeling settled between your legs. “Nice job, you’ve beat her bloody.” Jin grumbled coming near, your entrance oozed a mixture of his cum and blood from your lost innocents. His finger brushed against your puffy injured vulva, “please no no nooo!” You instinctively backed away from the contact.

“My turn princess.” Your eyes closed, you could tell it was Jimin planning his attack. “Please Jimin, you’re still my friend right?” You Sobbed to weakly to even look into his eyes, Jimin had to put an end to it or it wouldn’t end at all. “I treat all my girlfriends this way, hm don’t worry baby it won’t hurt-” you heard him wander closer, “just open up.” You refused, turning your head away from his voice, “Ah y/n don’t be that way.” He slightly scolded pulling you back his way by your jaw, “open your mouth y/n.” You opened your eyes, glaring at him, your right eye blurring and irritated. He rubbed his member along your pursed lips. “No?” He leaned over, his member in his over hand. “Open. The. Fuck! Up.” He slapped your pussy harshly with every word, already sore you cried out, begging for mercy.

He took the opportunity, plunging his cock down your throat, gagging you choked and cried. “Yah stupid Bitch watch your teeth!” He gripped the back of your head, another agonizing ordeal. Your throat was sore from the screaming and now your throat was being rubbed roughly by Jimin’s third leg. “I’m gonna c-cum, and you’re gonna swallow all of it and you’re gonna keep it down.”

You couldn’t protest, you got used just as before you closed your eyes and prayed for it to be over as quick as it started. Hoseok neared you like a predator, “careful she’s sore.” You opened your eyes quickly, he had his pants completely off, his member erect his shirt open his sculpted body on display. You sobbed around jimins member as he took his time fucking himself into you. “I’m not putting my prick I that mess.” He referred to your battered entrance, he placed his clock between your folds, rubbing himself their. Even the subtle pressure gave you discomfort, “hey! Watch those fucking teeth slut!” Jimin beat the back of your head, picking up his pace.

“She sounds so fucking nasty.” Namjoon pulled himself out of his trousers “choking and gagging, fucking whore I wouldn’t fuck you even if your mom offered all the money she owed.” Namjoon insulted, pulling closer, “what an asshole.” Jimin grunted in retaliation. “This is all you’ll get from me.” Namjoon leaned over you, assaulting you relieving himself on your quaking body. “You sick bastard!” They found Namjoon’s action sickly humorous. He moved to your face, you tried to stop breathing in fear of inhaling it. Warmly it dribbled over you. “I bet you fucking enjoyed it.”

Jimin pushed your damp head down on him as he exploded in your mouth, that scene being all he needed to find his high. His seed was salty and less sweet; he tasted repulsive. You gagged as he removed himself, you leaned over the bed in utter pain heaving. “AHT HEY!” Taehyung cupped your mouth, “swallow be a good girl.” He rolled you back, you tried but your body refused, you gagged against his musty palm. Jimin pinched your nose “take it, take it, take it!” Air became scarce, you gulped ingesting his warm seed, the taste blanketed your throat.

They let you breathe, Hoseok found his release on your tummy, scooping it with his agile fingers he force fed you. “Please...n-no...more.” “Shut up, your breath reeks.” Your stomach flipped, you were going to be sick soon. “Roll her over.” Jin instructed, and of course they followed you let them do as they please, not like you could stop them. “Your pussy is beautiful, but I love a nice ass.” He unbuckled his belt, letting his pants fall. Spitting vulgarly, stroking himself. “Bite the pillow.” He pulled you up by your waist. Using his thumb he rimmed you.

Getting positioned he spit on your hole. The room was quiet. “Bite it hard.” He pushed himself mercilessly barely breaking through, “tight little bitch.” Your screeching earsplitting You’d become unconscious soon the pain was excruciating, you knew you were bleeding. “Please! I’ll do anything!Please not this, no more of this!” Finally he bottomed you out, “this is what love feels like, hmph remember that.” Jin growled fucking into you barely able to keep a pace.

Your vision blurred, slurring was your only form of speaking back, covered in piss and cum, tears and snot. Drooling all over yourself like an imbecile, bleeding. They’ve used you out, good for nothing you fell into the void of unconsciousness, sweet relief.

A dull jabbing welcomed you back into the real world, no way was this some sort of twisted dream the disgusting smell registered back into your senses. The smell was you. “Fucking hell Jungkook finish already.” You’d been sick all over the mattress in your sleep, your mouth stale and stiff.

“I’m so sorry y/n I’m so sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!” Blinking you looked over your shoulder, tears streamed his rounded face. “Ugh so sorry.” He gagged looking at your abused figure covered in bodily grime. “P-please turn around so it can be over.” Pitying you he held his head down shamefully thrusting to unwanted orgasm. He too filled you warmly pulling out quickly, scurrying to the corner losing his breakfast. “H-hy-'' he retched again. “Let’s go please, let’s leave.” He begged holding his stomach, Jungkook is still your friend, right? You could see he didn’t want to hurt you...

They put their clothes back on lazily.

“Be a peach and tell your mother we’ll be back next month on the dot, hopefully you won’t have to cover her tab two visits in a row huh sweetheart?”

“I hate you, all of you.”

“Ah, but we love you, and we always will.”

(Not my photo)

(Please interact like•reblog•reply it helps sm!)

@minshookie

1K notes · View notes

dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

Text

The Field Trip ~ KSM [Request]

WORD COUNT: 4.2K

PAIRING: Teacher Seungmin x Teacher!Reader

GENRE: fluffy, teacher AU, filedtrip AU, awkward Seungmin, cute seungmin

A/N: I hope you enjoy this! I think cute teacher Seungmin would be adorable!! @nightalight

The class you were trying to calm down were all talking amongst themselves, too excited to listen to anything you were trying to tell them. You couldn't blame them for the exciting field trip that was going to start today. It was something everyone had been looking forward to for the longest time so you couldn't be mad at them for being this enthusiastic about something that was finally happening.

"Hey guys, come on...Just because it's a trip doesn't mean we can speak over Miss Y/l/n," You glanced over at the door to see your colleague Mr Kim Seungmin standing there, he must have been walking past when he noticed you struggling to get the groups attention. Normally they were one of the most behaved groups in the school but today it was as if they could no longer contain their energy for the trip ahead and had to let it out one way or not another. The class turned to look at Seungmin and stopped talking when they noticed what he was wearing, it was strange to them to see their teachers out of their normal school attire. Instead of the usual suit that he would be sporting, he was in some sweats and a hoodie since the bus ride that you were going to be on was almost two hours long. You'd chosen to come along in your sweats and a hoodie as well since you didn't want to spend the ride uncomfortable, most of the kids had dressed up fancy despite being told about the long drive and that the first night there would be a quiet night in to get used to their sleeping arrangements.

The whole of your first-grade students was going on a week-long trip to Gyeongju-si as a small incentive for being such good students that had been excellent in the school year. Those who had disciplinary records or were in trouble throughout the year weren't allowed on the trip and were to stay behind with the other grades. Of course, it wasn't just you and Seungmin that would be leading the school trip, it would be far too much to handle for just the two of you. There were a team of teachers going along with all 56 students including you, Seungmin, English teacher Bang Chan, Science teacher Felix, headteacher Minho, IT teacher Hyunjin, Music teacher Changbin, Art teacher Jisung and form tutor Jeongin along with a couple of other PA's that were able to help out. All of the teachers knew each other very well and got along, it was one of the conditions you had of going on the trip. You wanted to make sure the teachers were able to get along well with one another as well as looking after the students in an appropriate manner, knowing when to draw the line at certain things they would be doing. People that could be trusted with the children aged 15-17 and knew how to care for them and discipline them appropriately if needed.

"Thanks, Mr Kim. Now I know you guys are excited but there are rules to go over for on the bus and for when we arrive at Gyeongju-Si, buddy systems are in place so you're always with a friend," The kids watched you as you spoke to them all, giving them information on when you would take a break on the bus ride and what buddy sytem there was in plcae. They were also watching the way that Seungmin was watching you, smirking to ofe another as they saw the familar creep of a blush coming onto his cheeks and the sparkle he got in his eyes whenever you spoke to a class. They would be blind if they didn't see the crush you and Mr Kim had on one another but neither of you would do anything about it. Too scared to think about it and decided to stay friends with one another, no matter how much chemistry you shared.

"Teachers will be around at all times if you need us, you'll each have a number to contact us on over the course pf the trip..." The more you went on the more you could see the interest of the trip leave their eyes but it wasn't all bad so you decided to give them the good news while you had their attention.

"Those who are old enough do get to go on their own for a while but those who aren't will be assigned, teachers...Please be mindful," You looked at Seungmin to see if he had anything to add but he had been staring at you with a slight blush on his cheeks, he always got like that around you. The two of you had been friends for years but it didn't stop him from having a large crush on you and got nervous whenever you spoke to him or stood too close. Teachers and students all saw the way you acted around one another, the chemistry you shared it was hard to ignore it when it was right in your face all of the time. A couple of the teachers even had bets on when Seungmin would finally ask you out on a date or when you would finally cave and ask him out.

"Anything to add?" You nudged him and he cleared his throat, standing up in front of the class and trying to think of something he could say to them as they mumbled to one another glancing at the two of you as they spoke about how this could be the trip that made you come together as a couple.

"This trip isn't educational, you won't have to take notes...It's a nice break for all of you to enjoy! So remember that but also remember you are representing the school so act respectful to those around you and be on your best behaviour... think Miss Y/l/n covered it all...Have fun!" The kids cheered before going back to their previous conversations with one another, talking amongst themselves about what they were looking forward to most while on the trip. The whole thing had been in planning since the start of their academic year and they'd been looking forward to it since.

"Are you excited?" Seungmin questioned as he walked over to your side, you were double-checking your bags again to make sure you had everything and more that you were going to need.

"Very, there's a walk I really want to go on...You should come too, I think you'd love it." You smiled at him as you thought about everything you'd been researching in the lead up to the trip,

"If you're still into photography you could bring your camera along, it's beautiful," You were so lost in a conversation with one another you had noticed that some of the students were watching you together. A couple of the girls smiling in 'awe" at the way Seungmin was watching you closely, hanging on to every word you were saying to him.

"When I get older, I want someone to look at me like that...Pay attention to my interests like that," One of the popular girls said loudly enough for you to hear, a blush crept onto Seungmin who smiled nervously at you.

"I'd love to, I brought my camera and plenty of batteries...It'll be nice," He smiled at you and as you were about to say something else the door opened and Minho appeared with a smile on his face,

"The busses are here, let's all go! Make sure you have everything packed! We won't be coming back!" He yelled as he ran down the hall to inform the next lot of students while you and Seungmin got your class ready to head out to the busses.

After the long road trip it was a relief to finally arrive at the hotel you would be staying in with all of the kids,

"Make sure you check in with Mr Hwang, he'll be the one giving you your room keys! Boys you're on the fifth floor and girls are with Miss Y/l/n on the tenth!" Chan yelled out as groups of children ran towards the hotel, carrying their bags and yelling out in excitement about who they were going to sharing rooms with.

"You are in luck, me and Felix have the first night of rounds so you have a free night to yourself," Jisung said as he came over to you, you were trying to get your bag off the bus when he pulled it out for you. Raising his eyebrows to see if you'd heard what he said to you,

"Cool...I think Seungmin and I are going to go to the Wolji Pond, I've been wanting to go and I figured he'd want to go for a photography opportunity," Jisung scoffed at you and you frowned at him,

"Of course, "photography" is what Seungmin is going for and why you invited him...Y/n...I'm not stupid," He nudged your arm but you frowned even more wondering what he was talking about,

"Come on. We've been talking about him the whole journey, you can't stop thinking about him...Even on our weekends out you're always thinking about him. Tell me this is just some elaborate plan to finally ask him out or get some alone time with him." You gasped at Jisung as you slapped his arm in a playful manner, looking around to make sure none of the children was in earshot or that Seungmin himself didn't hear since he was less than a couple of people away from you.

"Shut up," You hissed under your breath, dragging Jisung over to the back of the bus before groaning and hiding your face in your hands. The thought of being alone in such a romantic setting with Seungmin hadn't even occurred to you until Jisung planted the seed in your mind, now all you could think about was walking hand in hand with Seungmin around the pond. Talking with one another about everything and anything that would come to your minds it was something you both could do easily with one another. There was a certain comfort that you gave to one another that let the other one know you were free to talk about anything you wanted, that and you had so much in common it was like hanging around with someone you'd known your entire life.

"It's not a date, it's nothing like that...We're just-"

"Going out. Alone. On a romantic walk, together....Okay, sure, whatever you need to tell yourself to get through it." Jisung smirked at you before walking away leaving you to overthink everything while you stared down at the gravel floor. The whole journey you and Jisung had been speaking about what you had planned for the trip, and it seemed as though all of the teachers had baned together to make sure you and Seungmin were always working alongside one another. They were. They were sick of the two of you always too scared to make something happen and they were going to do it for themselves even if it took them the whole of the trip or longer.

"You okay?" You jumped when you heard Seungmin suddenly talking to you and he smiled at you,

"Y-Yeah, just getting lost in my own thoughts." You laughed, looking over at him with a nervous smile before glancing down at your phone trying to come up with some excuse to get away from him. Now that Jisung had put the idea of going on a date with Seungmin that night into your head you couldn't contain yourself. The butterflies in your stomach were getting harder to control and the way your head span whenever you would lock eyes with Seungmin was sending you crazy.

"I'm going to go and lay down," You mumbled trying to leave without making eye contact with him but Seungmin called your name out,

"I'll meet you in the lobby tonight," You nodded at him, glancing at his hand that was wrapped around your wrist, you couldn't help but feel a spark come from the spot his hand was laying. Seungmin smiled as he saw a flicker of a smile on your cheeks and he let go of you, watching after you as Jisung came to his side.

"Big date night, you looking forward to it?" Seungmin turned to look at the older friend of his and frowned,

"Date? I didn't ask her out...We're just going for a walk." Jisung wrapped his arms around Seungmin while shaking his head and tutting loudly,

"Seungmin, Seungmin, Seungmin...You have much to learn about women and dates. Y/n clearly asked you to go with her because she's into you and you're into her...What's the big deal?" Seungmin's heart raced at the thought of you liking him back, he'd had a large crush on you for years but he never would have thought you would ever return the feelings for him.

"She did? Why wouldn't she just ask me out on a date then...She didn't need to hide it," He sighed as he and Jisung walked in the direction of the hotel, ignoring the rest of the teachers around them as Jisung filled him with dating advice.

"She was probably nervous, I mean she won't even admit it's a date but it is...We all know she's crazy about you Seungmin...She's told me a million times," Seungmin blushed deeply as he glanced over at you getting your key-card from the reception desk, he smiled when he saw you feeling his stomach began to grow and he couldn't help but feel hopeful for your date that wasn't really a date later that night,

"I'm going to go get ready," He mumbled before sprinting off away from Jisung and heading up wot his room while Jisung smirked at himself proud of what he was doing. If it was down to him to make you guys finally take that first step then he was going to do everything in his power to make it happen that night.

Seungmin stood anxiously waiting for you in the lobby, it was pitch black outside and the night workers were switching onto their shift.

"Do you need help, Sir?" One of the managers asked and as Seungmin was about to ask the manager to call your room number the door to the elevators opened and heard some students talking loudly while complimenting someone and he glanced over to see you standing between two of the 17-year-old girls in his class.

"Miss, you look amazing. There's no way Mr Kim will be able to keep his eyes off you," Seungmin blushed at the mention of his name and you glanced over at him, your body freezing in place as you felt shy in front of him. A warm feeling spread all over the back of your neck and your face as you tried not to look visibly embarrassed, failing miserably as you knew your body was trembling and you were swallowing a lump in your throat that wasn't even there. Your shoulders curled forward as you walked over to him, waving goodbye to the girls who had been complimenting you on the ride down from your floor.

"You look...Whoa," Seungmin complimented as you joined him by his side, you were dressed in a black and blue floral-ankle skirt dress with long sleeves. It had a v-neck with a chiffon material and it looked pretty on you, it made your eyes pop and your skin look stunning under the dim hotel lighting.

"Whoa?" You giggled softly hoping for some kind of explanation as to what "whoa" meant but it was all Seungmin could manage to say as he continued to stare at you lost in your eyes.

"I-I mean...You look whoa all of the time but tonight it's just...Whoa," He breathed out again, it was as if he'd been lost in a brain fog and he was finding it difficult to produce real words other than "whoa" to describe the way you looked.

"Beautiful, he means beautiful." The night manager winked before sitting down behind his desk and beginning his work. The room fell into an awkward silence so you pointed at his camera,

"Shall we?" You questioned and he nodded, walking towards the exit with you while he tried to think of sentences he could say. It was as if everything had suddenly left his brain and he couldn't remember how to make basic conversation.

"Jisung said that you wanted to ask me something," You and Seungmin were standing in one of the Gazebos around the pond, you'd been walking together for an hour just having a casual conversation about your hopes and plans for the trip. After the awkward encounter in the lobby everything seemed to calm down on the walk, Seungmin snapped photos of everything around you and you spoke about anything that came to your minds.

"He did?" Seungmin's voice cracked as he glanced over at you, your back was to him as you looked over the railing of the pond with your hands on the railing he couldn't help but snap a picture. The low lighting in the gazebo and the stars made it look perfect,

"Did you take a photo?" You giggled gliding over to his side to look over his shoulder at the image he had snapped of you to see yourself on most of the photographs from that night.

"Whoa," You repeated what he had said earlier in the night and he chuckled softly.

"Here...This is my favourite, you were leaning down to look at the ducks," He flicked through some images and found one of you sitting on a patch of grass beside a small area of the pond. You were so lost in the night you'd barely heard the camera shutter going off but in the image, you were looking at the ducks and ducklings all sleeping happily,

"Cute, look they look so peaceful," You smiled happily glancing up at Seungmin who was already staring down at you. His eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips, debating with himself if he should finally take his chance and kiss you in the romantic night you were having.

Bending down he leant closer to you until your lips were almost touching, your eyes fluttered shut and your heart raced from being this close to him. It was finally going to happen after all this time. That was until there was the sound of giggling students coming from before you, you broke away licking your lips as you stared at the floor.

"Shouldn't you be in your rooms, there's a curfew," Seungmin grumbled as he stared over at some of the students that had interrupted your moment together.

"Shouldn't you take Miss Y/l/n on a real date before you kiss her!" They yelled before running away from you and Seungmin as he blushed deeply and you felt your body curl up in embarrassment.

"I'll...I-I'll walk you back," Seungmin mumbled as you both headed back in the direction of the hotel.

It was the final day of the trip and the almost-kiss between you and Seungmin was never spoken about again, it was never brought up and the two of you stuck to conversation topics surrounding school life instead of your private ones.

"So close, yet so far," Jisung grumbled as he threw some food to the ducks as he watched you and Seungmin taking some of the younger students around Gyeongju Craft village, wanting to make sure everyone had a chance to buy something on their last day.

"I heard if it wasn't for the two girls in Y/n's class they would have kissed," Chan mumbled as he sat down beside Jisung, handing him some of the food he had in his bag.

"They were on a date, it was going so well and then they ruined it by laughing at them as they almost kissed." Jisung pouted as if it was him being mad at drama actors in a show he was watching instead of real human's.

"You can't blame them Jisung...If Seungmin and Y/n are meant to be then it will happen eventually...We can't force it," Jisung rolled his eyes not wanting to listen to Chan acting, wise about everything so he laid down against the grass and stared up at the clouds.

"Hey look, this looks like Mr Kim and Miss Y/l/n," Your ears picked up your name and you glanced over at a group of students gathered around a wood crafting shop, you slowly made your way over to see a wooden couple crafted together. It looked so close to you and Seungmin and you felt your stomach flip, the lady figure was wearing a dress similar to yours from that night and the male had a camera in his hands as they walked together hand in hand.

"Miss, you should buy it! It's so cute!" One of your students said as they glanced up at you, pointing at the figure as she asked how much it was but you heard Seungmin coming over and panicked. Your body going into fight or flight mode you left, going over to Jisung who was asleep on the grass. Black glasses were drawn on his face in permanent marker which made you giggle as you saw it.

"Jisung, this is your fault...You said it was a date, we almost kissed and now it's all weird between us...I hate you." You grumbled to his sleeping body knowing that once he was out of it he was out of it for a while, it was like trying to get blood from a rock whilst trying to wake him up.

"Y/n?" You looked up over your shoulder to see Seungmin holding a bag in his hand with a shy smile on his face,

"Can I talk to you? Over there..." He nodded over at the cherry blossom trees and you got up from the grass and brushed yourself off,

"Sure." You whispered following him over before standing up the tree together. The two of you stared at one another not noticing that everyone had turned to look at you, watching you from afar to see what would happen between you.

"I got something and I wanted to talk to you about the other night...It's been on my mind all week but I never knew how to bring it up," He scratched the back of his neck nervously before handing you the small gift bag with a shy smile.

"Open it first," He instructed as he watched you anxiously, you pulled the bag open to see the wooden figures inside, your names were written on the bottom of them and Seungmin blushed.

"The lady that crafted it saw us that night...I asked how she knew our names but she wouldn't tell me...I think the kids told her." He chuckled softly and you smiled running your hands over the small figures before looking back up at Seungmin,

"I'm sorry I was so awkward and never brought it up again...I was...I didn't want to make things weird between us and in all honesty, I've been so nervous to ask you out that when Jisung said it was a date I jumped on the chance." You frowned hearing that Jisung told him he was a date and you shook your head,

"J-Jisung convinced me it was a date, I was too nervous to ask you out," You laughed softly as you stared at one another, realising that neither of you had asked the other out and that it had been a set up by Jisung.

"I'm sorry...I-I really shouldn't have tried to kiss you then, I mean if you're not interested in me like that-"

"Who said I wasn't interested in you like that?" You whispered, taking his hand in yours so that he couldn't walk away from you like he was attempting to do. A blush crept on his face spreading over his ears until he looked as red as the roses that were growing nearby.

"Well...I-I mean...I just meant-" You cut him off by kissing him suddenly. You no longer wanted to be worried or nervous about kissing him. It had been eating you up inside and you just wanted to get it over with before you chickened out of it all over again. In that moment the kiss was filled with sweetness and passion, Seungmin wrapped his arms around your body pulling you closer to him to deepen the kiss between you and smiled against your lips. It felt as though you were at home with the smallest of kisses, the chemistry between you became a huge ever-glowing flame that nobody would be able to put out. That was until-

"Who had bets on the trip being the reason they finally kissed?!" Jisung's voice rang out above everything around you, ripping into the moment the two of you were sharing together. You bit down on your lip as you and Seungmin rested your heads on one another, laughing at one another softly as you glanced in Jisung's direction who was collecting money from the teachers and students.

"Should we tell them all he cheated?" Seungmin questioned as he linked his hands with yours, you shook your head.

"Nah, we can just bully him into buying us food with the money or we'll tell everyone," You promised him, leaning up to kiss him once more before leaving him to go and join the others who were all smirking and cracking jokes at the pair of you already.

Tagline: @taestannie @kneel-begyourpardon @minholuvs @acciocriativity @that-anxious-bisexual @mwitsmejk

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delimeful · 3 years

Text

you can’t go back (4)

warnings: mentioned child neglect/bad parenting, mentioned awkward saucy teen flirting, arguing, emotional upset, the dubious ethics of over-excited teenagers

Roman had been acting strange, lately.

It was perhaps a harsh thing to think about his friend, especially considering he was bound to behave differently when the recent disappearance of his twin was taken into account, but it was also true.

Logan had known Roman for years, long enough that it was an effort to search back through his memories for a point that they hadn’t been together, if perhaps not always in the most amicable of circumstances. They’d gone through the entire gamut of enemies-frenemies-rivals-friends, and Logan liked to think that he had a fair grasp on Roman’s tells by this point.

All of Roman’s tells were currently telling him that the other student was trying to hide something, something big.

It wasn’t just the way that he had stopped sulking whenever something happened that reminded him of his missing brother, or that he was suddenly scrawling what almost seemed like notes in a glitter-covered notebook when he hadn’t had the inspiration to work on anything creative in weeks, or that he had all but given up on the pretense of paying attention in their shared classes.

No, the real sign that something was wrong was the way that Roman had begun to outright neglect his two closest friends.

Logan was hardly affected, of course. He was above the base emotions that so many of his peers were constantly fraught with, and less time with Roman gushing in his ear about whatever had caught his interest or complaining dramatically about those who had wronged him meant more time for Logan to focus on what was important, like his AP classes and many, many extracurriculars.

Of course, that didn’t explain why he was currently trailing after Roman on his walk home, when he really should be at violin practice. No matter how much of a soft spot the teacher had for him, he’d gained his skill through hard work, not skipping practice. Certainly not skipping practice to hound off after his erstwhile classmate.

However, he wasn’t the only one being abandoned in this scenario.

Logan Croft had been forced to sit at a lunch table with an increasingly secretive and distant Roman, and a mournful, kicked-puppy version of Patton Hertz, the most cheerful guy in their grade, if not the entire school.

Roman, stuck in his own thoughts as he clearly was, seemed to not notice the effect his lacking presence had had on Patton, and Logan was just about fed up of watching the slow decay of the half life of their little group.

The secrecy was ridiculous. They’d been there when Roman had been so worked up about the ‘police coverup’ that he’d actually considered trying to break into a government building, they could certainly be here for whatever it was that had him so bizarrely clammed up now!

Logan paused from a distance and watched as Roman hurried in through the front door of his house, counting backwards in his head. It would be a fair challenge to try and break into Roman’s room, particularly with Roman in the house, but if his deductions about the seeds constantly caught on his friend’s pant legs and the odd-colored mud left on the soles of his favorite tennis shoes were correct… There!

Sure enough, only a few moments later, Roman was pushing out through the back door, taking an unusually careful moment to close the screen door behind him before turning and walking determinedly down the path into the rural wilderness that made up half of the grounds his family’s farm sat on.

Logan waited until there was little chance that Roman would double back for something he’d forgotten, and then strode confidently up to the front door, rapping on it twice. Going by the fact that there was a car in the driveway and the door had been unlocked when Roman had gotten home from school, someone else was home to answer.

Mrs. Torres opened the door, looking surprised at the sight of him for a moment, before breaking out into a warm smile. “Logan! It’s so good to see you, are you here for Roman?”

“I’ve been meaning to meet up with him for a project, but he left school before me, so I came here,” Logan said, not above lying through omission to uncover the truth. “Is he home?”

“Oh, he just got back, but I don’t think he’s inside-- ROMAN!” she turned towards the stairs and called up them, frowning when there was no response. “He must be out in the yard again. Come in, come in!”

Logan stepped inside smugly, glancing around. The interior was much the same as the last time he’d been here. If it hadn’t been for the pile of faded missing posters under a mug on the counter and his own prior knowledge of the situation, Logan would have been hard-pressed to guess that this was the home of a recently-vanished child.

“Honestly, I’m just glad he’s not staying cooped up in his room anymore,” Mrs. Torres was saying. The woman speaking casually in front of him only added to the eerie composure of the home, and Logan made his way through the general pleasantries and politely refused any refreshments with an unpleasant feeling in his gut.

“They didn’t even bother printing out new missing posters this time,” he remembered Roman telling them with a quiet, bitter sort of anger. “He dyed his hair, and they won’t even pay to put a recent picture of him up when it could be the difference between someone recognizing him or not!”

On a logical level, Logan can understand something concerning happening over and over, repetition dulling it’s effects until it feels mundane or everyday. Roman has mentioned before how his parents believed that Remus was simply acting out for attention, mostly while thanking Roman for being above that, as though the metaphorical ‘good twin’ wasn’t currently building a career on literally acting for an audience's attention.

What Logan can’t understand is that Remus’s parents are apparently completely uninterested in finding out why Remus is so desperate for attention that he would resort to a maneuver he knows will only get him negative consequences.

Logan himself would certainly like to understand. All queries on the matter had garnered only uncomfortable evasion from Roman, as though his friend might have had an idea but wouldn’t say, likely due to irritating personal feelings that Logan couldn’t parse.

So, he’d reached out to Remus directly, on one of the few days that he’d actually attended classes.

The delinquent had been visibly confused by his approach-- the twins allegedly hadn’t had a mutual friend since the beginning of grade school-- and resistant to Logan’s questioning, which Patton had later informed him was likely far too blunt for the situation. They’d gone in circles for a bit, Remus making outlandish or confusing metaphors while Logan refused to rise to the bait, and then he’d made a simple observation about the hypocrisy of the twins’ parents, and Remus had stared at him with an odd tilt to his head for a moment.

Shortly after, he had made a very confusing comment about something that was anatomically impossible, and when Logan had enquired further, Remus had then hared off with pink cheeks and ditched school for a week. He’d asked Roman about the situation, but his friend had only covered his ears with an agonized look on his face, utterly refusing to explain.

Logan shook the errant thought away, and the odd pang of something like regret that Remus had vanished before he could follow up on the interesting interaction.

He turned his gaze away from the unharried setting. The odd dynamic between the Torres family was not what he was here to investigate, not even remotely.

There was only one Torres he was investigating right now, and he had a strong suspicion that his odd behavior had less to do with family than one might expect.

“Go on ahead, I’m sure he’ll hear you once you get out back,” Mrs. Torres encouraged, picking up a particularly irritated-looking calico cat. “Just have to make sure Lady Macbeth doesn’t escape and disturb your little session. Roman’s been worried about coyotes, so we’ve been keeping her inside.”

Logan nodded, though privately he was a little surprised. Coyotes? He hadn’t thought they would be so bold as to lurk at a farm this close to urban areas. Perhaps there had been sightings near here?

He pushed past the creaky screen door with a striking sense of familiarity, despite the fact that it had been quite a while since the three of them had gone wandering together in the foliage and dirt of the Torres farm. Patton’s allergies could be quite fierce, after all.

As expected, walking into the backyard revealed no signs of Roman, even when Logan cleared his throat and called out. He knew his friend well enough to know that he would have reacted audibly to his unexpected presence, so the only logical conclusion was that he wasn’t nearby.

Clearly, it was time to check the perimeter.

He walked in a careful, orderly line next to the old wooden fence, eyeing the peeling paint and refraining from setting his hand on it. He had more to worry about than potential splinters, such as keeping an eye out for any potential strangeness that could explain Roman’s behavior.

There was little to be found in the brush except a regrettable amount of sandburs catching along the hem of his pants, so when he spotted the barn, he felt a surge of excitement.

And if he indulged in a little bit of sneaking, hoping to catch his quarry unaware, that was his business. Roman was loud enough that he could hear him ranting a good few meters from the barn, anyhow.

He managed to make it all the way to the edge of the barn wall before the rant abruptly cut off, and he stalked forwards hurriedly, pushing the door open before Roman could hide anything incriminating.

He needn’t have worried: the evidence was standing there in the middle of the barn, strapped to a support rafter.

It also wasn’t human.

“What are you doing here?” Roman shrilled, taking a quick step to be in front of the creature. It was an ineffective method of hiding it, seeing as what appeared to be long, spider-like limbs were extending in the air a good few meters in either direction behind him.

Logan had known about Roman’s theory, the one that had been laughed right out of the police station. He’d walked with Roman and scoured the fields for any sign of what Remus had mentioned, though they hadn’t found anything. He knew his friend still believed that his twin’s disappearance had been unnatural, extraterrestrial.

Knowing was quite different from seeing an entire alien right in front of oneself.

Roman was still talking, in that nervous chattering tone that he always took on when he was working himself into a truly incomprehensible explanation, but Logan could hardly be asked to divide his attention at the moment.

Extra anterior eyes, odd shiny patches along the sides of the neck, exterior hinges along the jaw, organic plating that had visibly darkened since his first glance-- there was so much that he needed to understand the purpose of, so many questions he had about their origins. How close by was other life? Which star had they hailed from? How had they gotten here?

He was moving forwards without a second thought, enthralled by the way the legs rose up-- like a bird mantling their wings, and they appeared smooth, not hairy as an actual spider’s would be.

“Incredible,” he breathed, and then there was a hand fisted in the back of his polo and he was being yanked away. Where he’d just stood, all four of the strange limbs stabbed into the ground, their reach longer and their ends sharper than he’d anticipated.

There must have been an extra joint closer to their back, the flexible kind that would allow for such an extension. He itched to circle around and look for himself, to confirm his hypothesis before the limbs retracted, but Roman was still clinging to him like a shrieking barnacle.

“What did I just say?!” he demanded, gearing up for a scolding. “It’s not friendly! Do you want to get stabbed into next week?”

“How long have you been keeping an actual alien life form from the world at large? From scientists at large? From me?” Logan shot back, shaking Roman’s grip loose. “Have you had them strapped upright this entire time? Can they talk? How did this even happen?”

Even as he demanded an explanation, his gaze was drawn back over to the alien, taking in their every twitch with endless curiosity. He wanted to know how to read each motion, from the downturn of their chin to the scrunching of their smaller eyes to the way the flat plates where a mouth should be had seemed to twitch. He wanted to know everything.

“It’s been like a week, I didn’t strap them up they came like that, either they don’t speak English or they’re a really good actor, and they showed up in my barn after Remus was abducted, you do the math!” Roman rushed out, edging closer as though he thought Logan was about to try and get closer to the alien again. “And I didn’t tell you because I knew you would do this!”

“This is hardly the first time I’ve almost been stabbed in the pursuit of science,” Logan retorted, annoyed at the presumption that he wouldn’t risk his life for his goals.

“It’s only a little bit about the near-stabbing!” Roman’s voice cracked, and Logan finally pulled the other half of his attention away from the alien to stare. “This is my only lead on my brother, and you’re going to want to-- to-- to put it in a laboratory or National Geographic Magazine or something!”

“I’d be far more likely to write a thesis paper on the matter,” Logan corrected helpfully. Roman’s hands twitched, the body language possibly indicating that he was barely restraining himself from trying to throttle Logan.

“Whatever! The point is, this isn’t a science experiment to me!” His rival’s face was crumpling slightly at the edges. “You can’t just-- just use the alien I found as a ticket to get into some esteemed college while Remus is left to rot in the far reaches of outer space!”

To Logan’s horror, Roman’s eyes had become suspiciously shiny. He floundered for a moment, wishing Patton was there to smooth things over as he so often did, before firming his shoulders and lifting his chin. He could at least try to explain, and hope it didn’t turn out too badly.

“I’m not going to ‘leave Remus to rot,’” Logan started, remembering the recycled missing posters stacked up on the counter. “If you believe that this alien is key to finding out what happened to him, then that should be-- well, our first priority should always be furthering the advancement of human understanding, especially with a discovery as big as this, but I am an accomplished multitasker, so we can do that while we attempt to locate and recover Remus.”

Roman’s shoulders slowly loosened from their frustrated hunch. “You’re going to help me? Seriously?”

“Do you really think I’d joke?” Logan replied, gesturing to his tie. “The more information we compile on this specimen, the better we’ll understand them, and the closer we’ll be to understanding the motives behind Remus’s abduction.”

“And you aren’t going to tell anyone?” Roman asked, looking more hopeful by the moment.

“Why would I? I work more effectively on projects on my own,” Logan answered, the same sentence that had sparked a loud argument between him and Roman in the middle of Biology two years ago. This time, however, Roman looked excited rather than offended at the response. “We really should figure out something to tell Patton, though.”

“That’s… a good idea,” Roman admitted sheepishly. “There’s no way we can let him around an unknown alien fiend, especially not one so… spider-y. You almost got stabbed, imagine what it might do to poor Patton!”

“You handle our story,” Logan decided, turning to look back at the alien fully. “I’ll see what we can do about those extra limbs. We won’t be able to do any sort of up-close analysis with a constant threat hovering over us.”

He straightened his tie, studying the way the extra limbs in question were vibrating just slightly in the air, drawn in significantly closer to the alien's body than they had been before. Despite the movement of the legs, the alien themself was still as stone, all of their attention locked on Logan.

Through observation and experimentation, he was sure that each little motion of theirs would soon become as readable to him as everyday human body language, and from there, real communication would be in reach.

Communication with an extraterrestrial... This would truly be a project like no other.

Fueled by a thrill of excitement, Logan couldn't help but smile.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #ts logan #alien au #ts roman #ts virgil #ycgb #you cant go back #humans are deathworlders #space au #writitng #my writing #ts remus #hes only mentioned #real mad scientist hours <3

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

The Cult Girl (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 6

Hannibal sits in on a regular conversation between y/n and her family. Y/n insists it could have gone worse.

⚠️Bigass trigger warning⚠️: Verbal abuse, emotional manipulation, blood, mention of alcohol abuse and suicide

Anna lived her life believing that she was the main character, constantly denying personhood to everyone around her. She was the romantic hero, and everyone else existed to forward her plot.

This metaphor was imperfect, however, because in all the books you'd read, the main character must overcome some kind of challenge. Nobody ever said no to Anna. Nobody ever criticized Anna. Nobody but you. So you were pigeonholed into the role of antagonist for it. You had to give her credit; growing up on the receiving end of her and Theresa's torture was a compelling villain origin story.

It was obvious that she only wanted you at her wedding to present her with an obstacle. Heaven forbid her story progress without some semblance of petty drama out of her control. She'd cornered you into a painful catch-22; you wanted vengeance, but you couldn't give her the satisfaction of having her special day ruined. What was your play? Ruin it just a little? Walk away?

These thoughts passed through your mind as you sat through the boring ceremony. You wanted to lean over and whisper everything to Hannibal, but he seemed lost in his own thoughts. The vows seemed to drag on forever. Liam's English accent grated on your ears and you wished that he would just shut the hell up.

The ceremony concluded and you hoped to skip out on the reception with a purse full of mini cannolis, but fate had other plans. In a last-minute reach for some kind of scene, the blushing bride waved you over to the head table.

"[F/N]!" Anna shouted, with a big smile across her face. "Come on!"

You fought the urge to feel endeared by this. She looked too happy to be harmful. Your guard was all the way up as you and Hannibal approached the table.

Hannibal pulled a seat out for you while you studied Anna's expression. She fixed her doe eyes on Hannibal. You knew from experience that Anna had the same powerlust as grandma and Theresa. She was just better at keeping a lid on it.

"[F/N], you remember Liam?" Anna said, her voice brimming with excitement.

"Yeah." You nodded, scooting your chair up. "Nice to see you again, Liam."

"Good to see you again, too [F/N]."

"Liam is from Birmingham." She bragged, her smile somehow growing wider.

"Alabama?" You piped up before taking a drink from your water glass.

Every time you were forced to interact with Liam, she reminded you that the man with the strong and unmistakable English accent, was in fact from England. And every time, you slipped in the Alabama comment. It was never not funny.

"Liam, Anna," you said. "This is my fiance, Dr. Hannibal Lecter."

"Many congratulations to you two." Hannibal offered.

"Dr. Lecter, thank you so much for coming." Anna returned. "And thank you for taking such good care of our precious [F/N]. I hope she's not giving you too much trouble. She was quite a handful growing up, but we made it work."

"Don't flatter yourself, you're only four years older than me." You hide your passive-aggressive jab beneath a smile. "You can't take credit for a job you didn't do."

Grandma always thought Anna's protective, borderline maternal behavior towards you was adorable. Of course, it disgusted you. You were little more than an accessory to her. A baby doll she could simulate motherhood with. But, in fairness to her, that was all you were to the adult in the house too. Monkey see, monkey do.

"So have you two set a date yet?" Grandma interrupted your thoughts, just trying to keep the tension down.

"Goodness, no." Hannibal answered. "Ours is a long-term engagement."

"Yeah." You added. "Not until I finish school."

"Well, it's not my fault you aren't expected to graduate on time." Grandma said into her wine.

You tightened your grip on your water glass. "Well, changing your major halfway through will do that."

"I'm just saying," Grandma continued. Whenever she was 'just saying' anything, you knew she was raring to stir things up. "If you had just stayed the engineering track, you wouldn't have to keep Hannibal waiting."

"Well!" Anna cut in, offended that the attention was off her for more than a minute. "Liam and I waited until after college."

"Yes, Anna," Grandma said dismissively, before turning back to you. "Y'know, Dr. Lecter here could probably tell you that psychologically speaking, women are more likely to drop out of college and become strippers when they change their majors?"

Now it was Hannibal's turn to down his entire glass of wine. "Ms. [L/N], where did you get that information?"

"Oh, it was an article I found on Facebook." Grandma answered. "I'll have [F/N] send you a link."

"Ms. [L/N]," Hannibal cleared his throat. "Are you familiar with the concept of misinformation?"

"Of course." She looked offended at the implication that she could possibly not know something.

"See, social media websites like Facebook are inundated with misinformation campaigns." Hannibal explained. "Your claim is not rooted in any psychological fact."

"Yeah, also," You cut in. You scanned the area for escape routes if your attempt to change the subject went awry. "There's a wonderful documentary about how Facebook misinformation campaigns targeted rural counties in England leading up to the Brexit vote."

"Oh, we have a funny story about Brexit." Anna interrupted, taking the bait, hook line and sinker.

Before she could recount the same boring anecdote about being at some regional chain restaurant when the vote was cast, Theresa and her husband joined the table.

"Sorry we're late," Theresa sat down. "Damage control is a twenty-four hour job. What were we talking about?"

"Misinformation." Liam said.

"Perfect timing." You muttered.

"Finally, all three of my girls are together again." Grandma threw her head back and rejoiced. "When was the last time we all got together? Just us four girls, huh?"

"Remember the day before prom, we all went out go get manicures?" Anna reminisced. "And we took pictures of us all dressed up?"

"Oh I remember." You scanned the area for any alcohol to ingest.

"Oh, this is so funny." Grandma laughed hysterically. "Dr. Lecter, did you hear this story? [F/N] went to the prom with a boy who had all along been using her to get close to Theresa! They got together that night! Dated for two whole years after that."

"I've heard an iteration of it." He said, looking over his shoulder. He flagged down a waiter who was holding a bottle of champagne. "Leave the bottle, please."

"Don't drink too much, [F/N]." Anna scolded. "Save some alcohol for the rest of us."

You made sure to maintain eye contact with her as you filled your flute to capacity. "Grandma's paying, isn't she?"

"Anna, baby," Grandma said, rubbing her temples. "It's fine. Let [F/N] drink herself silly. It's a party, right?"

"Wow," Theresa sneered. You knew exactly what she was going to say next. "Like mother, like daughter."

Everyone at the table had enough decorum to recognize that Theresa went too far. You crushed the champagne flute in your grip, letting shards of glass dig into your skin. You glared at Theresa, blood oozing from your palm and dripping onto the white tablecloth.

Wordlessly, Hannibal removed the offending glass from your hand and swaddled the affected area in a napkin. He put pressure on the cut, letting the blood absorb into the cloth.

"Is this the famed '[L/N] woman telepathy'?" Liam whispered to Anna.

"No, [F/N] is just mad because her mother was a drunk who killed herself." Anna thought she was being inconspicuous.

"This has been fun." You stand up from the table. "Really. Great way to spend a Saturday."

"[F/N], sit down..." Grandma ordered, sounding exhausted. "You know Theresa didn't mean that."

"No." You said, each syllable out of her mouth pushing you a step closer to your breaking point. "Y'know what? No. I don't have to put up with this anymore. Anna, congratulations. I hope you and Liam have many long years together."

You turned around to exit as quietly as you could, Hannibal at your side. Your grandmother, who somehow hadn't hit her daily allotted dose of confrontation, wouldn't have it.

"Dr. Lecter, tell [F/N] she's being unreasonable." Grandma pleaded.

Hannibal raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise. In his long-spanning career, he'd never once met a person as tone-deaf as Beatrice [L/N]. He kept his quiet composure as he slowly approached the table.

"Beatrice," he said, beckoning her to lean in. He whispered something into her ear that left her stunned and quaking.

You could hear your grandmother's hysterical sobs growing softer as Hannibal hurried you out.

"Keep pressure on that cut, love." He instructed, talking over the increasingly loud shouts of agony from the head table. "You'll need a few stitches."

Once you were far enough from the venue, you had to ask. "What on earth did you say to her?"

"Nothing that you don't already know." He answered, facing forward.

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #hannibal x you #tw blood #tw emotional manipulation #cult girl

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viperbarnes · 3 years

Text

The Tie That Binds – [Two of Eight]

[B. Barnes, Soulmate AU]

Summary: HYDRA took everything from you, your life, your future, they even burned off your soulmark to make sure nobody would go looking for you. Now the man they forced you to fix reappears in your life, to make amends and to be ‘of service’.

You know that they made him do all those things, that James ‘Bucky’ Barnes is not The Winter Soldier, that he’s innocent. You don’t blame him.

But that doesn’t make seeing him again any easier.

Warnings: Panic attacks, language, talk and depiction of home invasion and abduction, canon level violence, HYDRA levels of torture, angst, fluff, slow-ish burn, friends to lovers.

Note: This is entirely un-beta'd so all mistakes are my own. Thank you for reading!

<- Prev / Next ->

The room is cold enough that you can see your breath in the air. Around you, the low hum of activity signals the debrief after a mission well-done, various personnel seeing to their jobs as you do yours.

The Winter Soldier sits as still as a statue in the chair set out for him, already waiting when you’d arrived. You’d been in the middle of some of the best sleep you’d had in weeks when your cell door had flung open, and you’d been unceremoniously dragged from your bed. Even though they blindfolded you every time, by now you knew the way to the debrief room by heart.

You aren’t sure how long they’ve had you, time passes strangely when you only ever saw the inside of a cell. You’d attempted to keep track at first, but eventually you’d lost count of how many days had passed, or if they had at all… for all you know, you’d been counting nights, anyway.

It must have been years at this point.

You work quietly on the Soldier’s arm, the incredible piece of machinery and engineering the only bright spot in your confined life, but even that had worn thin some time ago. You were never permitted to really look at it, just fix any faults or problems that it had. And it certainly had its faults. After you’d first been taken, and you’d realised there was no way you were ever leaving here alive, you’d tried to make do, to make the best of your situation.

After every mission, the Soldier would need repairs made to the artificial limb which, while an astounding piece of biomechanical engineering, seemed to be oddly fragile. You had kept yourself busy, thinking up ways to improve elements of the arm, so that it wouldn't need so many repairs, but when you had approached someone vaguely in charge about it, you’d been told to keep your mouth shut.

Interestingly, a few of your proposed improvements seemed to present the next time you’d worked on him, though, none were executed in ways that made them truly useful.

You keep your head down as you work, eager to finish as soon as possible. You didn’t often pay much mind to the goings-on around you when you were called to service, but the heated conversation happening several meters away from where you sat beside the Soldier put you on edge.

A man in a suit and a man in nondescript military fatigues seemed to be having a barely civil discussion, moving in and out of English, and what you think may be Russian. The man in the military fatigues was one you’d seen plenty of times before. He never spoke to you directly, but the soldiers and guards of the facility responded to him like the lash of a whip. You’d heard him referred to as Karpov, and you can only assume he was in command of this facility.

The man in the suit however, you’d only seen a few times, and only ever in the debrief room when the Soldier had returned from a mission. He was American, his accent made that much clear, but further than that you didn’t know.

You’re still leant over the metal limb, several of its outer panels peeled open and removed so that you may access the mechanics inside, when the heated conversation gets nearer. You flinch at the movement out of the corner of your vision, causing your tweezers to tap into a wire that they really shouldn’t. The result is a small spark, and a slight shock for your ‘patient’, and though he doesn’t move an inch, when you hiss at your own mistake, and swivel your eyes up worriedly, you find he’s dipped his chin enough to watch you out of the corner of his eye.

You can’t tell if he’s glaring or not, his face always sullen and morose, but briefly you feel the urge to apologise.

You don’t however, fearing a reprimand from either of the arguing men who still near.

“You hide behind that book, Karpov.” The American man shakes his head.

“Without me and my book, you are nothing.” Karpov all but spits back. You feel your body stiffen as they begin to circle around the Soldier, and you by extension.

“Is that right?” The American man taunts, stopping on the other side of the chair to you and planting his feet. He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Солдат, убей ее.” He commands in perfect Russian.

Before you can even register what is happening, there is a hand around your throat, forcing you back and up, until your feet have left the ground. A crashing sound joins the sudden chaos, your small workbench of tools upended and scattered over the concrete floor, all other personnel in the room backing themselves against walls or desks as they watch on in shock and surprise.

You can only gasp as your airway is constricted, and you’re left to claw pathetically at the hand that has raised you from the ground. Fear and adrenaline fuel your futile fight, and you look desperately to Karpov, who watches on in thinly veiled horror.

Your eyes feel ready to pop from their sockets, your ears filled with nothing but the sound of your own blood when you’re suddenly released, dropping to the ground like a sack of bricks.

You gasp for air, the cold burning your throat and lungs as you drink it down. You scurry back out of pure instinct, spluttering and terrified, sending your fallen tools even further in every direction.

The American turns to his companion, a smug expression smeared across his features. You can’t hear what he says, your senses still too scrambled to pick it up properly, but he gestures to you, leaving Karpov with some final words before he turns on his heel and leaves.

You’re still shaking, gasping for air in terror when Karpov finally turns back to you.

He orders you to finish your work, and then he leaves.

You wake with a soft gasp.

Swallowing thickly, you force your eyes shut again as you take in several deep breaths, calming yourself as best you can. Unable to help yourself, you lift a hand to delicately touch your throat, where the bruises from your dream feel all too real for several seconds, before they fade into memory.

You could have died then, you’re sure of it. All your suffering, all the effort HYDRA went into seeking you out, it would have amounted to nothing. And for what? A petty power play?

It makes you feel small, which makes you angry.

You know they were an evil Nazi organisation and all, but they’d upended your entire life, completely ruined any semblance of normalcy you could ever hope to have again, and they hadn’t even had the decency to act as if you weren’t replaceable.

For all you did know about HYDRA and it’s going ons, there was so much you didn’t know. After you’d been freed, you hadn’t gone out of your way to seek out information, everything you knew was everything you’d found out about during your court hearings.

When Captain Rogers had brought down SHIELD and HYDRA, there had been a dozen raids on known facilities, the one you’d been at at the time being one of them. But bureaucracy would be bureaucracy and they’d had to officially investigate and clear your name before you were truly free to go.

There wasn’t much question about your innocence though, HYDRA hadn’t really bothered to code any of their notes or files on you or your capture.

By the time they’d let you go, you were more than willing to disappear and never hear about HYDRA or SHIELD or anything else to do with it ever again.

You’d managed it for almost seven years, too, until The Winter Soldie– Bucky– had shown up.

You chew on your lip and glare up at your ceiling, and then, with a hefty sigh, you reach for your phone on the nightstand, and the slip of paper tucked beneath it.

---

Once more, you marvel that the man before you is the same as the one who occasionally haunted your dreams.

It was rather incredible what simple expression could do to change a face.

Bucky Barnes sits in the corner of the coffeeshop looking both innocuous and extremely out of place as he fiddles with the gloves he still wears. His distraction must be true, because he only notices you once you’re already halfway to the booth, his face lighting up with recognition. For a moment he looks as though he might stand up to greet you, but you give him no time to do so, quickly sliding yourself in across from him with a thin smile.

“Thank you for meeting me.” You greet, settling yourself into the seat. Bucky waves you off with a shake of his head and seems to adjust himself in his place.

“Of course… is something wrong…?”

It’s strange to you, that you can pick out nervousness in his voice, that he would let himself be so readable, but then you wonder if he even realises. You give him another thin smile and shake your head, but reach for the menu.

“No. Nothing is wrong. Have you ordered?”

After two coffees are delivered to your table, yours a simple latte, and his a caramel mocha with marshmallows that you have to raise your brow at, you settle in once more and focus on why you’d asked him to come.

“You said… when you approached me, you said you were trying to make amends…?” You say, but it comes out more like a question than you intend. Bucky’s brows knit together and he nods.

“To be of service.” He confirms. A part of you bristles at that, a part that thinks he’s done quite enough of serving others for one lifetime, but you brush the thought aside.

“I– I thought of something that maybe you could help me with…” You aren’t expecting his face to light up the way it does, or for him to lean forward almost unwittingly. Momentarily you’re reminded of a very good dog.

“I don’t know much about HYDRA. Or why they did what they did… but I want to know.” You find yourself unable to meet his eye fully as you say this, instead focusing on gently turning your coffee cup around in place on its saucer.

“If you have questions, I’ll answer everything I know.” Bucky tells you a moment later. Something in his voice makes you feel as though he understood, and you wonder if he’d felt the same at some point. You look up at him briefly, grateful for the lack of judgement.

“Do you remember everything that you did? Were you aware of what was happening, or does it just feel sort of dream-like now?” You can’t help but blurt out seconds later, as if the opportunity might be gone in a few few minutes. Bucky blinks, and you can see him restraining the small quirk of his lips as he takes a sip from his cup and places it back down again.

“It’s a little bit of both. I remember everything, but it does feel ‘dream-like’, in retrospect.” He tells you.

“Who was Karpov?” Your next question makes him pause, a brief, almost undetectable flash of disgust and anger crossing his features before he clears his throat and speaks again.

“A Soviet, then Russian intelligence officer… He ran the program for a time…” Bucky frowns as he speaks. You nod, having thought as much.

“He’s dead, now.” He adds after a moment, and you glance up at him questioningly.

“Wasn’t me.”

You proceed to poke and prod at his brain for the next hour, and to his credit, he answers every single one of your questions as best he can. Even subjects that you think he may not normally broach, or things that seem like they might be classified, he tells you honestly.

You’ve both gone through two coffees when you’re finally coming to the end of your questioning, your mind filled up with more information than you could possibly hope to remember at length, but that wasn’t the point.

The odd ease you’d felt the last time, when he’d shadowed you around the grocery store, is gone. You no longer felt as though he posed some kind of threat, which was ridiculous, because the sheer size of him should have instilled that in you. The fact that you had so many traumatic memories tied to him should have sealed the deal, but somehow, it’s like none of that mattered.

That in itself gives off its own unease.

You feel like you’re in a constant limbo.

A comfortable silence had settled between you since your last question (and answer), and you watch Bucky finish off his drink. He’d removed his gloves halfway through your talk, and you’d done your best to steer your eyes away from the shiny black and gold of his new metal limb. Now though, you find your curiosity piqued at the sight of a strange black mark on the underside of his wrist, only visible when his sleeve pulls back just so.

You’d never noticed it before, though why would you have? You were always too focused on his metal limb. It makes you wonder though, which leads you to staring at your own hand, at the discreet lumpy white scar on the back of your palm.

“Do you know why they removed my soulmark?” The question comes quieter than all the others, and you don’t look at him as you ask it, though you see from the corner of your eye that he stops and stares down at your hand too.

He doesn’t reply at first, and you almost think he may not have heard you. When you do look up at him, he seems to jump, blinking rapidly and tearing his gaze from your hand.

“My guess is they didn’t want any loose ends…” He says slowly, but frowns.

“They didn’t remove yours?” You nod to his wrist, which he looks down at, clearly resisting the urge to cover it up again.

“They tried… but the serum… I guess it prevented them from doing any last damage to it.” Bucky tells you, finally meeting your eye again. He looked pained, but you don’t understand why. It wasn’t as though he really did lose his mark. Not like you.

For a brief few moments a burning jealousy overcomes you.

It wasn’t fair! It wasn’t fair that he should keep his and you should lose yours! You would forever be left wondering, no matter how much you healed from your ordeal, you would forever be left with the scars of it, unable to truly move past it.

You stare down at your hand again and feel the anger fuel you.

“They took everything from me. My life, my career… even love,” You wave your hand briefly before scoffing and shoving it into your lap. You didn’t want to look at it anymore. You didn’t want anybody to look at it anymore. Bucky sits quietly, face drawn into an intense scowl.

“I should hate you. I want to, believe me…” You purse your lips and shake your head, blinking away any tears that spring to your eyes. Now was not the time.

“But I can’t, ‘cause even though what they did to you was worse… You’re the only other person who understands. And I don’t have anybody else.” You shake your head again and feel the tension leave your body with your words.

It’s as if saying them out loud releases the anxiety in your bones. You feel lighter all of a sudden, the heaviness that you’d felt since gaining your freedom, the tiredness, it seems to diminish somewhat.

When you can finally bring yourself to meet his eye again, Bucky is watching you with something like sympathy, though, it feels softer than that.

“I was alone, and I thought I was fine with that.” You ball your hands into fists and let out a deep breath.

“And then you showed up.”

Bucky’s lips quirk, but this time he doesn’t try to hide it.

“Does that mean you’re no longer alone, or that you’re no longer fine with it?” He asks, and you can’t help but chortle.

“I don’t know yet.”

---

The burning question Bucky had had since he last saw you, the one he’d not known how to answer, resolves itself in the worst way possible.

He stares at the lumpy white scar on the back of your hand and feels his blood run cold. He’d been scared that you’d realised the truth, or that he’d have to tell you sooner or later, but this is far, far, worse than that.

They’d removed your soulmark.

Bucky knows they’d tried with him, remembers the searing pain, but it had never worked. With you however…

His chest aches just thinking about how you must feel. It was clear by the look on your face how much it affected you, and regardless of how you would have reacted had your soulmark been untouched, to find out he was your soulmate, Bucky wishes this were the one thing he could go back and change.

It leaves a hole deep in his chest.

But something else nags at his mind, long after he’s parted ways with you. You had no idea who you were to one another. It feels like a cruel joke played by the universe. Bucky clearly still made you uneasy, and even if you felt as though you could understand one another, that was very different to wanting to be soulmates.

No.

Bucky decides that you deserved more than a cruel joke. After everything you’d been through, you deserved true happiness.

And Bucky Barnes would rather see his soulmate happy without him, than miserable because of him.

If you like and enjoy, a comment or a reblog would be greatly appreciated!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes/you #story: tttb

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justalost4girl · 3 years

Text

" If anything can go wrong, it will."

Good night!! (Here it's still night :p )

A few weeks ago I said I would do a oneshot Lorraine Broughton x F! Reader, but it got too big so I decided to follow the initial idea and turn it into a mini series. I have two chapters written and I'm going to post them here and in Ao3, I think there will be 3 or 4 chapters in total, but I'm not sure yet.

English is not my first language, so all mistakes are mine.

Enjoy!!

warnings: mention of violence, R cursing, forgery of documents (?)

Words: 4573

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1989

Berlin, East Side

You feel in your bones, when you wake up, the consequences of last night and think that the famous Murphy's Law decided to test you. On this side of the wall few things go right, but having an order in your head two days after joining STASI's wanted list proves that nothing is so bad it can't get any worse. Courtesy of a dumb customer who messed with the wrong people and thought revealing where you find your customers would be enough information to escape death. The Local Gang (or Angels, as they call themselves) loves to eliminate competition from the market.

Now he's dead and you have to deal with the STASI AND the Local Gang (you refuse to call them Angels).

The local fucking gang that sent a team of idiots to break into your favorite bar and made you run out the back door before meeting a customer who was going to pay well. The local fucking gang who must be pissed that you shot the six dumbest members you've ever had to face in your life. No really fatal shots, but of course that won't matter as they do business with the KGB.

Sometimes you want to ignore the rules you've made for yourself, especially "never kill someone unless it's in defense of yourself or someone you love", but you think killing six agents who don't have the ability to set up an ambush of success would be a great waste of bullets. Now you know you're going to have to leave town soon and you have no idea how to break the news to your brother/partner, how do you honorably abandon a war before it's over?

Damn Murphy's Law

You know you need to sort this out, but you refuse to stay in bed crying over what's already written and decide to leave the wonderful Egyptian linen sheets you got from your favorite client last month to face the world and it's impossible to face the world without a good amount of coffee. After a quick shower with a cup of Blue Mountain in hand, your newest addiction, you sit in a robe in a nice armchair, look out the window at dying Berlin and thank heaven for the comfortable life you've earned by working with one of the greatest smugglers on this side of the wall, perhaps from all over Germany. Some desperate customers offer you valuable items from them in exchange for passports and unlike your idiot “brother”, you don't have a rule about only receiving cash. Almost everything here comes from gifts, from the sofa, pictures, bags, clothes and even some books on your shelf. You don't even remember buying that cup, or the coffee set, for gods' sake.

If he saw you now he'd complain about being soft with customers and say something about how items aren't a bargaining chip in the real world, you'd get into a tiresome discussion about enjoying the finer things in life and how bills don't compare in the importance of yours. silver chain with moon pendant that was once an amulet for more than three generations for a French family.

At the end of the day, Merkel has a large information network and an office that takes up half the block, where she keeps as much money as she has secrets, and you have a house decorated by other people where each object symbolizes someone you've helped.

Four walls don't make a house

The thought takes away some of the almost peace you feel and you decide to finish your coffee before it gets cold.

After a quick glance at the calendar you remember about the march that will take place in Alexanderplatz square and decide to go scream for Germany one last time, hopefully you'll be able to hide long enough to see the fall of the damn wall that divides this country. It's not your country, not really, you don't even like to remember how you got here, but the experiences you gained wouldn't be exchanged for anything, not even for an original Van Gogh. Also, Merkel asked you to go and bring a black umbrella, the reason was not explained and you didn't feel like asking, sometimes you think Gordon Merkel is not his name, but how to judge the man who is your only family in this end of the world? You smile when you remember that he shouldn't have an umbrella with a story as cool as his and decide to piss him off for it.

Your phone rings, and you notice you've lost track of time. Merkel was helping a blonde woman named L, he didn't give you more details other than a few stories about how she was a perfect and dangerous assassin that you should keep your distance, as few people know how to deal with her. You thought he overreacted, but you had to take over some business from him while she was in town. She seemed important considering the way he told you about her and you knew better than to deny help to the person who always supported you and declared himself a brother, you trusted him because not even the best agent in the world could fake so much sincerity and affection in claiming this title for himself.

You reach out, pick up the phone, and decide to answer it. “Hey little sister, how are you out there? I called to say that everything is fine for dinner today, but there was a mishap and the wine ran out, bring the best Bordeaux you have, I'll return the courtesy as soon as possible." A code, of course.

He needs your services ASAP. Wine is a passport, Bordeaux means two elements, courtesy involves a child.

You can combine business with pleasure "Hi brother. I'm looking forward to today, I'll take the best wine I have, don't worry. I already know how you can thank me. I need to clean the house and go to the office first, but I'll be there on time. wait for me." you say in a voice that oozes normalcy, you never know when someone's listening on the phone especially now that you're a fugitive, disgraced customer. Your body sinks into the armchair noticing the oncoming cloud of worry

Merkel now knows you need his help, as cleaning the house means getting away and going to the office shows you're in a hurry.

"Alright, do you want me to send the driver?" He asks like he's not freaking out and offering the bloody job of one of his mercenaries

“No, bro, thanks, I know the way.” You say as if you really have an escape plan besides getting a fake passport, emergency backpack and all the money you can find.

“See you later, don't forget the wine. Are you sure you don't want the driver?" You wonder if he has forgotten that knowing the way literally means everything is fine

“Relax, see you later” It takes a few seconds for him to hang up and you can hear his sigh.

He will be SO pissed.

You put the phone down as you get up to gather the passport forgery materials and put them in a briefcase. Your cookbook is already there along with some banknotes from different countries. As you pick up the black backpack of standard clothes and accessories that always waited for you in the corner of the door, you decide to wear the first jacket you bought, the dark blue jeans, the combat boots you got from a skinhead, the wristwatch you bought. you got for your brother's birthday, thick leather gloves and a thin white shirt that matches the rest of your outfit. After all, if you can die when you open the door, then die well dressed. Be sure to keep the Colt 1911 around your waist and the Russian dagger around your ankle, after yesterday you never know, Your pocket watch with the coat of arms of the Brazilian imperial family indicates that 15 minutes have passed since Merkel's phone call

You take one last look at the house you've been so proud of in recent years, snap a photo with the Polaroid you've won, and, with a bittersweet smile, close the door. One day when the wall comes down, the government changes and your face is forgotten, you can come back here, until then you will have to make do with the photo album you keep in your backpack and this photo.

Putting on your sunglasses, you arrive on the street and decide to take a taxi on the other corner, make sure you look around before leaving your home, no one knows your address, but you can't be sure the local gang is so stupid to the point of not following you after last night.

Getting a taxi was relatively easy. Neil, the driver, thanks to the boots, mistook you for a revolutionary and talked for 10 minutes about how he hoped he could take down the wall with his bare hands, you thought it was cool, but as you passed the big river that was just a few blocks away from the your brother's office, you couldn't hear a word from him.

A sign signaling that the river was closed to visitors made your eyes fill with tears. You used to go there when the day was bad, spread a blanket in a corner and watch the stars, or just laugh at the distinct reflection the water made of the moon and stars. Merkel accompanied you on anniversaries, justifying them as bonding experiences. After some freaks started swimming in the river and executions increased, STASI took over and you replaced the dark water for the restaurant's bright lights. But seeing it tightly closed gave him a feeling of anguish and rancor. You would silently curse the wall builders for the rest of the trip.

Neil seemed to notice but didn't comment on it, you thanked him, wiped your tears and left a good tip as you descended a block away from your final destination. This time you didn't need to look around because even though Merkel was super busy, he made sure to leave some security close to where your landing place was.

A tall man dressed in a red T-shirt approached you and hugged you as if he hadn't seen you in a long time. You've known him since the beginning of last year, when he arrived at Merkel's office begging for a job, and from the first moment the way he turned grief over his brother's death into a thirst for revolution made you admire the young man. The two of you walked through the great gate hand in hand as you asked about his life with genuine interest, and Klaus increasingly believed in Merkel's theory about you having such a pure heart that you didn't care about motivation or the number of lives they took, your explanation of the judgment not being your responsibility, crossed the man's head before he escorted you to the main office.

You thanked him with a smile, opened the door and stood in front of the table in the windowless room, where your brother was already waiting for you.

"What the hell happened? Are you okay? I was about to send J to get you, please tell me what happened"—he said hurriedly as he got up and pointed at the couch for you to sit on. J was one of the most dangerous women in the building and you were grateful for not wasting her time.

Putting your backpack and umbrella aside, you answered:

"I'll explain later, little brother, now let me help you. You need passports urgently, don't you?" Yes, you were stalling and postponing the conversation. He'd call you an idiot for going out on the street right after you got on the wanted list, and he'd feel guilty when he found out why you didn't tell him. Merkel wasn't going to understand that her fear of failing him was no one's fault but yourself.

Your sentence seemed to give him some responsibility back, but still, as he held out a glass of water for you, his eyes met yours with a glint that warned that this conversation was far from over.

"Yeah, I really do, but don't think I'm going to forget about it. Let's talk when this is all over. Even if it's the last thing I do today."

You accepted the glass with a bit of trepidation and stood up towards the large center table while opening the briefcase with the supplies you were going to need, if Merkel noticed the bills he didn't say anything. Once at the table, you made two passports for mother and daughter in record time. According to the clock, 10 minutes passed, faster than a car, this deserves a celebration. It would have been six if Merkel hadn't been so curious to make you waste time pulling your watch out of your pocket just for him to analyze.

Everything was going well and there was only one last detail for mother and daughter to be taken by one Percival to the other side of the wall. Percival, according to Merkel, was strange and fickle. Unreliable and extremely dangerous, you should also keep your distance from him, as this man had crucial contacts on both sides of the wall.

"He must have fewer contacts than you", you would answer

If a loud noise didn't break the silence

The annoying noise of the door creaking made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you almost missed the last signature, it made your body vibrate with irritation and your eyes follow to the offensive source of the sound. A tall man with short hair and blue eyes was holding the doorknob with a military posture and before you could release your anger and explain something about how people shouldn't be violent inside Merkel's office you noticed he was accompanied by a woman.

AND WHAT A WOMAN!

Your eyes connected to a pair of fierce, intent green eyes, surrounded by a pale skin tone and hair so blond it looked like snow. The barely perceptible frown showed she was surprised to find someone other than Merkel there, yet she looked ready for a battle. You looked into her eyes again and nodded in acknowledgment, this must be L, the woman he was talking about.

She looked at you suspiciously, but also as if she could see into your soul, and what must have been frightening, you found endearing. A few stories of murders orchestrated by her crossed your mind, but all you could imagine is how beautiful she must be when she's mad.

They say green eyes darken when we're high on adrenaline, does that happen to her?

Her analysis of the intriguing blonde ends when she notices that the man accompanying her has raised his voice and from his furious expression, it's not the first time he's repeated the question. You interrupt him before you hear him and make sure to direct the ghost of anger before him:

"Have you lost your mind? Who walks into the office without knocking? Surely you should be here asking about passports, but if it weren't for my experience and steady hands, they would be in the trash by now. Learn to be civilized. You're under two paws not four, so act human and not animal" you say in an explosive but articulate tone to make sure he understands what you say. Sometimes when you speak fast, you are betrayed by faulty diction. Not today. Today you want this man to feel every fiber of irritation that went through his body.

Hearing Merkel holding a nervous laugh, you try to relax, but judging by the cold, almost murderous look of the man in the doorway, you've definitely gotten yourself in trouble. Looking at the organized clothes, you notice it's an old police uniform, probably taken by your brother, and unless Merkel has hired new employees, you've never seen it around here. His eyes snap back to his and something inside you warns that this must be Percival. He probably wants to kill you.

Damn Murphy's Law

A brief silence settles in the room and you shake off the fear and turn away, refusing to play the glaring game with a man who almost spoils your art. On other days you might look at him at a party, but today you want to make him swallow the ink on the stamp in his hands and invite the blonde to dinner

And it's her voice that breaks the silence.

You're flipping through the two passports for failures when she says

"Sorry, miss. My friend is an unprecedented idiot. Shall I close the door and knock again? Perhaps your highness too--"

You turn her body towards her when you hear the slightest hint of irony in her tone and interrupt her with a fake smile as you look into her eyes.

"It's not necessary, I accept your apology, Miss. I always said that Merkel should have someone armed at the door to remind everyone of the need to knock on the door. Anyone who didn't knock would lose his mind as the law of my reign says. Perhaps I should start. for him, since the top head is the last thing he wears lately" you joke look at Merkel who doesn't seem offended by the statement, shrugging you look at those blue eyes again and say "the passports are ready. Let's get out of here."

You close the passports, reach for your backpack and umbrella and start moving towards the door, both agents let you lead the way and judging by the blonde's expression, she's not used to being interrupted, nor is she used to seeing someone talking like that with Merkel, but today it was acceptable. You really think she's adorable, but you know better than to let someone make fun of you, especially in front of your brother who wouldn't let you forget about it. Either she doesn't care, or she's a great actress. Anyway, that idiot is still by her side and you refuse to be the reason for his possible laugh.

Her friend probably didn't have the same acting classes and his resemblance to the local gang members, like he's going to kill you in the blink of an eye in a cowardly way, is almost frightening. If Merkel hadn't said L is a woman, you'd be scared. It makes you shiver a little and look for Merkel, but he's not following you. Looking over his shoulder you see him putting a few more piles of dollars and euros into your briefcase. With a snap of your fingers you get his attention and before you walk out the door, you hear the briefcase click closing.

Once out of the room, you look around and realize that nothing has really changed, all faces are familiar, except for three people: a couple talking to a child. After a brief analysis you find yourself facing the passport clients, mother and daughter. The man doesn't look older than 60 and has kind eyes, almost as if he doesn't live on this side of the wall.

They don't seem to notice you

Your observation is interrupted by Merkel's loud, proud voice, right behind you. Here it comes

"This is Elizabeth Loyd and Percival, two trusted clients. Elizabeth and Percival, this is my little sister, she will be on the march today, if you need anything in the future you can talk to her."

Hearing her name, you notice that Merkel really wasn't creative at all. Who would use the initial letter of a surname as a symbol? Anyone who heard the stories about L and met a loyde who knows a Merkel would make the connection. As you turn around, you swallow your nervousness and try to put on your best smile as you say your name to them. The blonde woman who finally has a name, Elizabeth, leans closer, her eyes never leaving yours, and you wonder if she can feel the jumble of emotions that is unraveling inside you.

She smiles a smile that makes you sure she does and reaches out and greets you with a firm grip, if she noticed the sweat on your hands, she didn't let on. She also looks a little more comfortable.

Maybe because she noticed you said her real name, idiot.

You hate yourself for one second and the next you want to be without gloves because it feels soft and warm.

The man, Percival, comes next and looks at you suspiciously and the smile fades from your face, you wonder if no one else can smell the strong smell he gives off, a smell of cheap whiskey and arrogance. Still, he holds out his hand and this time you thank the gods for the gloves. Make sure you don't bow your head or fail in your posture. He still looks at you like you killed his son. Useless even to pretend, for God's sake.

Merkel watches the exchange from afar and nods to Elizabeth, she responds and Percival walks away looking uneasy. You look around uncomprehendingly, feel a little left out, and wonder which computer must have Tetris installed.

You would kill for a distraction right now.

Going out on the street in a crowded march while being chased by two groups still makes you sick.

Your brother approaches and extends his hands around you. You've missed him for the past few weeks. He still wears the perfume you gave him for his birthday and it makes you sink deeper into the hug. You know he's going to be mad when he finds out what happened so you enjoy as much affection as you can

"Little sister, in addition to our conversation I need to tell you something" his voice is low in tone and you doubt you would understand the words if you weren't so close to him "but I can't do that until the march is over. Meet me at usual table at the restaurant where we celebrate our achievements, It's very important"

His even low voice is charged with strong emotion and you are genuinely worried, Merkel has never been like this before.

"I'll do it, brother, I promise. Whatever it is, we can work it out together" you say with all the certainty you can muster in your voice, because you need him to understand that this is true.

You feel eyes on you and as you look up you notice that Elizabeth keeps an eye on your exchange with Merkel while talking to the little girl's father, from the distance she probably can't understand anything and you don't know if she celebrates or cares with so much attention received. A little further away is a Percival who pretends to be busy with the coat he's wearing. He also pays attention to your exchange, but his talent for discretion is as effective as his ability to open doors.

Your eyes return to the concentrated blue eyes that are in front of you and Merkel speaks in an almost inaudible way:

"When I whistle, I need you to raise your open umbrella and stay alert. The three people we're going to cross are very important, nothing can go wrong. But if it does, I'll be at the restaurant, whatever happens find me there."

Noticing the proximity of Percival and Elizabeth, you place your hand on your brother's shoulder and smile as you speak a little louder:

"Don't worry man, it's always a pleasure to help you. I'll leave my briefcase here, then meet you to get it. Good march."

Merkel shows that she understands his strange move and smiles, you greet some friends of his that you haven't seen in a while and as you head towards the exit, you meet a pair of deep green eyes. Elizabeth is gleaming in the cold lights that are refracted by the mosaic of the gate, she looks into your eyes, ever alert, looks at the object in your hands and nods her head with a half smile, do you think the guard's idea black rain was hers.

As you wave back, you can feel that a pair of eyes haven't left your back since the moment of your brother's embrace, as the old man is saying goodbye to the family, you know who they belong to and decide not to look for them. If the STASI, KGB or local gang find you, he doesn't own the pair of eyes you want to remember before you die.

Taking a deep breath, you walk through the gate and blend into the crowd.

..........................................................................................................................

After leaving Merkel's office block, you take a hat out of your backpack and wear your sunglasses as you look around, not that a local gang member is here but because if he sees you in disguise he will ask a series of questions and he has enough problems already, plus STASI must be monitoring this area and the last thing you want is to be arrested. You decide to tuck your coat into your backpack to change your look, and while internally debating your ability to ignore the cold, your eyes catch the almost snowy blond hair in the crowd.

This signals that they are already on the march and you decide to get a little closer to them, but make sure you do this without drawing attention to yourself since the nasty man is still there. Elizabeth is on your diagonal absorbing all the extraneous details that might be a possible threat, she seems so focused on the job of passing the owner's gentle eyes in a safe way that it makes you wonder how important he is and if she's noticed you.

A few meters later a familiar noise floats through the march and you open the umbrella almost instantly, as do other protesters.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Percival taking the man's family across and sometime later Elizabeth does the same. You notice that her posture has changed and when she decides to stop for a better look, the crowd drags her and you can no longer locate her.

Her feet continue forward and as some signs are raised by the protesters, you try to find your brother. Unsuccessfully. You decide to trust their ability and hope that you can meet him again at the restaurant.

You also want Elizabeth to be okay.

Continuing on the march, after two or three long blocks you notice the familiar silhouette of one of the STASI bosses, he is watching the crowd as if looking for someone, but he doesn't seem to notice you. You notice observers on top of buildings and decide to leave the streets. Whether it's the Local Gang, KGB or STASI itself you don't know and decide you don't want to know.

Your brain tries to design routes to escape and your body mimics the movements of the closest protesters so as not to draw attention to you, but when some agents in black point in your direction and make space in the crowd, you run between people to seek shelter in somewhere you know and at every step you are sure that the day will be worse than you thought.

Damn Murphy's Law

#lorraine broughton x reader #lorraine broughton #atomic blonde #charlize theron

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chainhead · 3 years

Text

ink

leon has tattoos. ethan was never informed.

leon/ethan. mild swearing. smug leon, done-with-life ethan. fluffy!

It's fine. It's fine. This is totally fine.

Is it weird? Is he weird? God, he must be weird. It's nothing to get this riled up over, yet here he is, peeking over at Leon every now and then to catch a quick glimpse of the ink that spirals up his forearm.

Ethan bites his lip. Twirls the pen in his hand and clicks the button on top a few times, his desk work momentarily forgotten.

No, this isn't normal. Then again, neither is Leon with tattoos, so how is one supposed to think? React? He's been pretty good about hiding his (admittedly disturbing) attraction to the special agent; but things like this… well, they're on the same level as glasses, or piercings. A small change that—for a select few—can turn their entire world on an axis.

How far up do they go?

Does he have more?

When did he get them, and what do they symbolize?

"Ethan?"

The blonde startles, blue eyes flickering up in embarrassment.

Leon blinks at him. "What's your damage?"

Oh, Jesus Christ. "Nothing, sorry. Just a little spacey… today."

"I'll say."

Ethan hurriedly scoots closer to his desk, quickly turning his attention back to the papers that scatter across it. He isn't even sure what he's supposed to be doing with these, or why he even got assigned to deal with them, but if things keep going the way they are, he's gonna be here all fucking night.

Ethan frowns. And then he hesitates, realization dawning on him slowly that… hey, doesn't Leon work crazy late hours, too?

No.. no, no. He's on the clock. He needs to pay attention…

"Ethan." It isn't a question this time. Ethan meets Leon's gaze with a sheepish expression, and the other man draws his brows together. "Seriously, what's going on with you?"

How does one go about confessing their guilty, weird, quid-pro-quo attraction to their superior without coming off as a freak? Better yet, how does one go about it without getting fired? Ethan feels a cold sweat prickle beneath the collar of his button-up.

I like you. I like you. I like you.

"I like…" It's like there's a solid chunk of ice stuck in his throat. "Well, I mean, your… you know."

Leon's look of concern quickly shifts into one of bewilderment. "No?" He says, real slow-like. "I don't know."

Ethan wants to die.

"It's just…"

The atmosphere in the room shifts. Ethan's hands are clammy and cold and he regrets even opening his mouth; wishing he could've just opted to say that he feels sick and his head hurts, and maybe even take the rest of the night off so he could reflect on all of this – perhaps over a nice glass of red wine. Instead, because he's terrible at socializing and even worse at socializing with Leon, he's currently staring the agent down with terror flashing in his eyes.

Leon doesn't say anything, but it's obvious that he's dying to get this over with, just like Ethan is.

"Y– you can't get mad," Ethan stammers, clenching his fingers.

More silence.

Ethan sighs. Then, finally, he lays down his cards with a quiet, "Your tattoos."

Leon tilts his head. "... Mine?" He asks, a bit delayed, and Ethan has never wanted to evaporate into thin air more than he does right now.

"Yeah."

"Like, the ones on my arms?" Leon rotates his wrists, glancing down at his own artwork.

"Yeah."

"Ah."

Great. When should he start packing up his belongings? Now? Tomorrow? There's a spare produce box in the break room, and he only has a couple of personal items on his desk. His name placard, a picture of his childhood dog, a cup full of pens he got on clearance at Staples…

Although Ethan doesn't get to stand up or prepare before Leon is speaking again, his voice surprisingly nonchalant.

"And...?"

Ethan sucks in a deep breath. That's a good question. "They're… distracting me?" Vague enough to keep matters civil. He can do this. "And that's why I'm a little… slow, today. I think. Because they're doing that. Distracting me, I mean."

Leon hums, acknowledging that he heard Ethan's answer. He waits, silent until Ethan manages to scrounge up the courage to meet him eye-to-eye, and then he laughs.

There's something to be said about the way in which Leon handles all things; from topics as serious as bioweapons wreaking havoc on unsuspecting townhomes, to things like this – Ethan admitting he's intrigued by the older man's ink. He's good at finding the balance while still remaining cool and collected, and that's a trait Ethan's always admired.

Because, sadly, he cannot do that.

"I knew there was something about you, Winters," Leon says jovially, as if he's uncovered some grand secret. He leans back in his chair, pushes himself a little further away from his desk, and says: "Do you want to come have a better look?"

Ethan nearly chokes on his spit. "W– wh– what?"

Leon's grin widens. He's enjoying this. "I can't have distractions in the workplace. So if you're curious, and think it might help you refocus, I implore you to get your ass over here and take a gander."

The blonde flusters, his lips screwing into a scowl. Implore. What did this guy know about words like that?

Regardless, he still obediently gathers himself to his feet, taking the necessary steps to close the distance between him and Leon. The fine hairs on the back of Ethan's neck stand at attention, and he's acutely aware of the personal bubble he is now officially bursting— not that Leon seems to notice, or mind.

Infact, the only thing he does when Ethan comes to stand beside his chair is jut both arms out, letting Ethan do whatever he likes.

Instinctively, Ethan grabs them. Then panics, because holy shit, he's touching Leon fucking Kennedy. Then double panics, because why did he do that? Why is he still doing it right now?

"Uh…"

"You just wanted to hold hands?"

"N– no!" Ethan exclaims, immediately letting go. Leon bursts out into full-bellied laughter, and the blonde has to take a deep breath before he passes out from his nerves. "Jesus, Leon, I– I was trying to bring them a little closer."

"Oh right, the bad eyesight," Leon drawls. "I forgot you wear glasses sometimes. Near-sighted?"

"Far-sighted. Now shut up and let me look," Ethan snaps, finding his second wind. He reaches for Leon's arms again and finds relief in how the older man wordlessly obliges; giving Ethan the opportunity to twist his arms and inspect the patterns that dance across them. It's not a situation Ethan could've expected, or even predicted, but Leon's right about one thing—this is definitely scratching that terrible itch he feels, somewhere deep down. No more needing to sneak creepy, uncomfortable glances to figure out what they are.

However, he'll always wonder where the tattoos lead. And how many more of them Leon has, hidden underneath all those layers of fabric.

"I see." Ethan nods, smiling faintly as he releases his grip again. "They're cool, I wasn't expecting you to have them. Then again, I've never seen you wear anything other than long sleeves."

Leon quirks a brow. "You pay attention?"

Ethan's smile drops. "Oh. I mean, not in like– not in a weird way, that isn't what—"

There's the sound of a scoff, and then Leon's hands are on Ethan's wrists, gently pulling him down to his level. The blonde stumbles forwards and catches himself with a knee on Leon's chair, and the situation is so intense and utterly stifling that Ethan has to rear away with his eyes narrowed in firm on the office door.

"Ethan," Leon coos.

The blonde makes a noncommittal sound in his throat.

"Ethan, c'mon, look at me."

There's no way this is happening right now. No feasible way. He must be dreaming.

Ethan registers with rapt attention as Leon let's go of his wrists in favor of bringing both hands up to cup his cheeks, and whether Ethan wants to submit or not isn't really an option anymore. Determinedly, the older man coaxes him to meet his gaze again.

"Shy?" Leon teases, and then quickly changes his tune when Ethan struggles in his grasp. "Okay, okay, I was just kidding! Damn."

"Leon—"

"Hold on for a second, sweetheart. I've got a few things on my mind." Ethan's face burns as he tries to process this, process the feel of Leon's touch as it sears itself into his memory. His heart pounds so fiercely in his chest he fears that Leon can feel it, but if he does, he doesn't comment.

Leon brushes his thumbs over Ethan's cheekbones. "You thought I'd be mad?"

"It's... unprofessional," Ethan breathes.

"What is?" Leon asks. His eyes are so blue. "Wanting to see my tattoos?"

Ethan nods. Leon snickers, pulling him that much closer, and the blonde is enveloped in the smell of bergamot and gunpowder and something spicy like sage, and… what was the question again? He can't think clearly when he can feel Leon's words flit across his lips.

"The only 'unprofessional' thing I see is the subordinate about to climb into his boss's lap," Leon murmurs with a wry smile. Ethan lets out a small gasp, jolting, and Leon makes sure he doesn't slip away. "Woah, hey! I never said I didn't like it."

"L– Leon, I don't understand what's…" Ethan stutters, shivering, feeling the traces of electricity that follow Leon's fingertips. He doesn't know whether to lean into him or settle his entire weight on top of Leon, so to play it safe, he refrains from doing either.

The agent takes a moment, eyes sweeping over Ethan's features, before letting out a soft exhale. "Well, now you've seen them. I hope that helped you find some kind of clarity..."

Not even a little bit, Ethan thinks miserably.

"... But it'll probably kill you to know that there's more than just this, and I can assure you, they are much more interesting." Leon chuckles as he tugs the blonde in one last time, and kisses him, right on the corner of his mouth.

"Still distracted?" He whispers.

Ethan can't even think of a proper reply. His brain has turned to mush.

"You…"

"Mm?"

Ethan sucks in a deep breath. "You're a fucking asshole."

Leon throws his head back and laughs, and when he recovers Ethan is already swooping in for another kiss. To hell with professionalism.

#heyyy i dont usually post my writing here but #im gonna!!! >:)#*flings my drabble at u*#ethan winters #leon kennedy #resident evil #lethan

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seokoloqy · 4 years

Text

The Ravenheart Manor

➳ PAIRING(s): ot7 x reader

➳ GENRE: smut, pwp, mythical creature!au

➳ WORD COUNT: 4.1K

➳ WARNINGS: aphrodisiacs, suggestive content, more warnings will be added in each chapter

➳ SUMMARY: you’re the new maid at the Ravenheart Manor. Take your chance with each of its peculiar residents (hey, does that one have a tail?) after accidentally ingesting a powerful aphrodisiac that might just kill you if you don’t give in to your burning desires.

➳ A/N: at the end of the story it will be split off into seven different parts. Each of them dedicated to a different member they don’t have to be read in order and they are not connected. Enjoy your descent into monster fucker hell~

—

Rain pours all around you and it only seems to grow stronger the longer you wait at the looming door. You had rapped your knuckles against the ornate door twice now, but the manor is so large you doubt anyone would have heard unless they were lingering next to the door.

Your fingers begin to feel numb when the howling winds pick up. You raise your hand again to knock with all your strength, hoping someone will answer before you freeze.

Before your hand hits the door for the third time, the doors pull open and you’re greeted by a man in a waistcoat. His dark hair contrasts with his pale skin. He scans you slowly, eyes drifting down your shivering body, pretending not to notice how your clothes stick to your curves. He makes a small sound of approval before meeting your eyes.

To you, he seems normal, but that would be completely incorrect. When you took this job, you knew it’d be at your own risk. It pays so well you don’t even care about the dangers you potentially face.

“You must be the new help,” he says, pulling the door open wider. You get a glimpse of the inside and the grand decor. “Welcome to the Ravenheart Manor. I’m Yoongi, the butler. I’ll be helping you adjust to life here.”

You lift your suitcase and cross the threshold, taking in your surroundings. Yoongi reaches for your suitcase. When your hands touch briefly, you feel colder than before. You would have dropped your entire suitcase if he hadn’t grabbed it.

Yoongi isn’t phased, instead, he moves along, deeper into the heart of the manor. You force yourself to shake it off and follow him. You might as well get used to this. There’s certainly more encounters like this to come.

“I believe you’ve already been informed of this, but the residents here, including myself, aren’t exactly human. I would like to preface that before you meet them.”

“Yes, I’ve been told.”

You only know that they’re each different creatures, but you’re not entirely sure what. You can’t even tell what Yoongi is yet, but judging by his dark aura, he’s nothing to be messed with.

“May I ask what you are?”

He grins as if he were waiting for you to ask, but doesn’t turn around to meet your gaze. “A demon. If you’re not careful I could steal away your soul and your face. So I suggest not messing up.”

Although his tone is playful, you doubt he’s joking.

—

In the dining area, two men lounge in chairs across from each other, neither of them eating. One has his feet up on the white linen; his mud-coated boots stain the fabric. A toothpick rests between his lips and his eyes travel the pages of a worn book. The other nurses a cup of dark liquid that he seems mesmerized in, watching his tired reflection stare back at him. The room smells of coffee and you assume that’s what he’s drinking, despite the clock ticking close to midnight.

The ambient candle lighting is warm, casting a soft glow over the room. With the rain battering against the window it creates a cozy atmosphere, and for a brief moment, it’s almost a place you’d call home.

Yoongi clears his throat and both men call their attention towards you and you’re suddenly reminded of the dangers beneath this roof.

The man with his feet on the table grins, his canines peeking beneath his upper lip, plucking the toothpick from his mouth and shutting his novel with a loud slam that startles the other man out of his daze. “A toy? You love to spoil us, don’t you, Yoongi?”

“She’s not your toy, master Taehyung,” Yoongi says, eyes narrowing slightly at Taehyung’s shoes muddying up the table. “This is ___ and as of today she will be assisting me with chores around the manor.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t play around with her,” Taehyung pouts, “Jungkook, doesn’t she look like fun?”

Jungkook meets your eyes and immediately flushes, turning back to stare into his black coffee. “I don’t know,” he mutters, curling into himself like he wants to disappear.

Taehyung laughs, rich and melodious laughter, throwing his head back against his chair, “don’t mind him. All baku are shy things. It’s cute—don’t you agree, ___?”

At that, Jungkook dips his head lower, dark hair sweeping over his eyes as he tries hiding his embarrassment.

You don’t want to turn Jungkook any more red than he already is. You ignore Taehyung’s question and regard both men with a thin smile and a polite bow. “Hello, I’m eager to begin working here.”

Taehyung swings his boots off the counter—much to Yoongi’s relief—and leans forward with his elbow resting on the table and chin propped in his hands. His tongue wets his lower lip like a starving wolf.

“Will you call me master as well, ___?” Taehyung queries, popping his toothpick back in his mouth with a sly grin.

Your heart hammers at his charming smile.

“If you wish.”

“I’d love nothing more, my dear.”

You take a deep breath through your nose, unsure of your next words.

“Well then, master, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Taehyung’s smile drops and for a second you can see the predatory gaze in his eyes that tells you he craves to pounce on you. Maybe if Yoongi and a Jungkook weren’t in the room, he would. Maybe he’d have you pressed against the wall before you could say anything more and devour you completely. His voice is lower when he speaks again, any trace of his teasing attitude gone. “I think we’ll have a lot of fun together, my dear.”

—

“This room is the bathing area. You’ll be sharing it with the rest of the residents here. There is a scheduled amount of time for you to bathe alone, however. So don’t worry about anyone barging in on you.” Yoongi says, opening the door, releasing a thick cloud of steam. Upon entering, you notice the large bath in the center with two shadowy figures in the fog.

“You get off on making me angry, don’t you?” The hiss comes from the steam. “I said, don’t touch my things!”

“It’s just soap, Hobi. Relax before you pull something.”

Before you can turn away after the fog clears, you’re met with two men at the bath. One is submerged in the water with his arms crossed over the ledge and the other stands over him with a towel wrapped around his waist.

The one not in the bath has a scowl on his face, but more importantly, two leathery white and blue wings protruding from his back and a large sweeping tail matching in color tucked under his towel.

“Touch my things again and I’ll tie you up in the sun till you shrivel,” the one with the tail threatens.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Ahem,” Yoongi clears his throat. “Masters, may I introduce our newest guest?”

You almost gawk at Yoongi for thinking now, when there are two men practically naked and arguing, is an appropriate time to introduce you. But then again, he is a demon. He must not have any qualms over things that you’d normally find inappropriate. He is the embodiment of sin, after all.

The one in the bath is the first to look at you. He gasps, pushing himself up from the water. Instead of seeing him completely naked, his waist blends into iridescent smooth scales. A shimmering tail flicks behind him, splashing water over the edge of the bath.

“I had no idea she’d be so cute! Say, care to join me for a bath, dear?”

Saving you from the embarrassing stutters that would’ve left your mouth, Yoongi interrupts, “there’s no time for that tonight, master Jimin. I’m sure ___ is tired from her trip here and would like to get to bed as soon as this tour is over.”

You hold in your sigh of relief.

Jimin pouts, dropping his arms back into the water with a splash. “Alright. Maybe next time.” The disappointment is marred on his beautiful face.

“Why’d you have to bring a human into the manor, Yoongi?” The second man says.

“I think she is very qualified for the job, master Hoseok.”

“Tch,” Hoseok scoffs. “She won’t last here.”

—

The crackling fireplace warms your rain-soaked body. Worn books line the walls in this next room. Yoongi guides you deeper into the library where there are two men sitting in chairs across from one another, pondering over a chessboard.

“This is very boring, Namjoon,” the blonde one huffs, propping his elbow on the table to cradle his chin. He looks out the looming window at the drops of rain battering against the window with a sigh. “Nothing like celestial games.”

The man opposite him gives a similar sigh as his hand hovers over a pawn, contemplating his next move carefully, “Seokjin, it’s been over a century since you were cast out. When will you stop comparing everything to the celestial realm?”

“When my Father gives me my true wings back.”

“So never,” Namjoon says matter factly, pushing his dark-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. He pulls his hand back and scans over all his pieces on the board with furrowed brows.

“Masters,” Yoongi calls. “Please meet our newest maid.”

Seokjin turns from the window and nearly grimaces at Yoongi, but as his eyes travel to you they light up, absolutely delighted to see you.

“Hello! Come join us!” Seokjin says, “would you like to play for me?”

He’d like to get out of playing chess anyway he can. He’s already halfway across the room to greet you before you can speak.

“Hello, I’m ___,” you greet politely, placing your hand in Seokjin’s outstretched one. He’s warm, unlike Yoongi. You already feel so much more comfortable just being near him. Namjoon said something about heaven and you assume he must have been an angel.

You become frozen when Seokjin brings your knuckles to meet his lips in a tender kiss.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ___.”

“The theatrics are unnecessary.” Namjoon gives a tired sigh from his chair, still intent on the board before finally moving his piece. After he’s satisfied with the move, he rises from the chair and strides across the room with confidence. When he stops, looming before you, he stares down at you with dangerous maroon eyes. “I’m Namjoon, owner of the Ravenheart Manor. I hope you do not disappoint me.”

—

It’s been about a month since you started working at this manor. You’ve gotten to know a little bit more about each of the residents, but only surface-level things.

You know that Namjoon is half vampire, half werewolf but doesn’t care to speak of his werewolf side. He sometimes disappears into the garden in the middle of the night. You can see him strolling around and disappearing behind hedges from your window. You’ve never been down there because Yoongi has you working dusk to dawn scrubbing down the manor or doing laundry until you can hardly move once your head hits the pillow.

Seokjin is a fallen angel who was cast out centuries ago, but can’t seem to stop reminiscing about his time there. You enjoy being around him the most. He always puts you at ease and is the only one who occasionally helps you with chores. He’ll help you sweep the floors and tell stories of Heaven that always captivate you.

Yoongi is a demon who seems to take a great amount of joy in bossing you around on your hands and knees. Every morning, just before the sun is over the horizon, he’s hovering over you with endless amounts of chores to do and a new list of your flaws and how you can do better.

Hoseok is a dragon and it seems like he just doesn’t like you at all. The subtle glare he gives you whenever you walk into a room makes you want to exit immediately. He likes to keep to himself in his room most of the day and away from the other residents. No one gets to go into his room at all because he locks the door. You’re not sure what he’s hiding in there.

Jimin is a siren who endlessly flirts with you about getting into the bath with him. You’ve heard the stories of sirens seducing their prey just to drown and eat them so you avoid being near the baths whenever he’s in, but it seems like he’s always in the bath. Sometimes you catch yourself being tempted by his sweet voice whenever he offers.

Taehyung is a kumiho that loves to tease and pull you onto his lap while he reads a book just to watch you grow flustered. You always find yourself thrown onto his lap whenever he’s nearby. He loves having you curled against him, one arm securely around your waist and the other with a book open on your lap.

Jungkook is a baku. He’s easily flustered by you, turning red easily whenever you’re around. He’s so quiet; sometimes you don’t even notice his presence in a room until someone acknowledges him.

You sigh as you pour a glass of blood for Namjoon in his usual tall glass. You spent the whole day dusting the library and pulling yourself from Taehyung’s affectionate grasp most of the time.

“Uh-”

Another voice entering the kitchen disrupts your futile attempts at relaxing. Caught off guard, you accidentally let out a yelp, nearly tipping out the entire pitcher of blood. Consequently, your help causes the intruder to jump as well.

“Sorry!” He says.

You turn around to find Jungkook shrinking away under the door frame and not some hungry monster you didn’t know inhabited the manor.

“What are you doing here?” you breathe a sigh of relief. Out of all the residents in this house, Jungkook is the least of your worries. Actually, you doubt he’s even capable of hurting anything with how timid he is.

“Do you need more coffee?” You gesture towards the empty mug clutched in his hand.

He nods, extending his cup towards you. His arm strains to hand the cup to you from the distance he’s put between you two.

By now, you’re not surprised he’s here asking for more caffeine at night. His unusual sleeping schedule (not that he ever sleeps), along with a filled cup of black coffee always clinging to his side, keeps him up all through the night. You’ve never questioned his obsession with coffee and the habit of staying up. You don’t know much about baku, but there probably is a good explanation for it.

“Um,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck, “You seem… stressed?”

“A little,” you admit, moving to take the coffee pitcher off the heat.

“Oh,” he trails off, not knowing what else to say. You can see the cogs turning in his head as he attempts to think of something to say or do. “Maybe something to drink will help?”

You laugh, “I don’t think coffee is going to help me relax, especially at night.”

Jungkook flushes, averting his gaze towards the cupboards. “Th-That’s not what I meant.”

He shuffles over to the cupboard and opens a panel to reveal where the liquor is kept. He grabs one of the bottles off the top shelf—an opaque rose-colored glass with a wide rounded bottom and long neck.

“Here. Jimin always drinks this whenever he’s stressed and brags about how it can make anyone feel good,” he extends the bottle towards you, “maybe this’ll help.”

You haven’t had a good drink since coming to the manor. Even with Yoongi’s voice in the back of your head nagging about how a good maid wouldn’t drink on the job and how he’d be disappointed by your actions, you find yourself reaching for the bottle.

You take the bottle from Jungkook, who surprisingly doesn’t flinch when you accidentally brush fingertips, but you can see the familiar pink flush across his cheeks.

“One or two drinks won’t hurt.”

—

You drank a few shots of the oddly sweet liquor before dinner could begin. It filled you with a pleasant warmth that ran through your entire body. True to Jungkook’s word, it did help you relax—maybe a little too much.

Now you’re sitting at the dinner table surrounded by all seven of the residents. Yoongi is hovering behind Jungkook, refilling another cup of coffee, still working to serve his masters. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him eat.

Tonight is a mandatory dinner where you all sit down and have dinner at one table. Usually, the residents have separate meals at separate times in their own rooms or wherever they can find prey—willing, submissive volunteers, as Jimin likes to call them—but Namjoon made it a rule to have dinner together at least once a week to help you find normalcy and feel more comfortable living with a group of supernatural creatures.

You absentmindedly poke at your meal while your stomach churns. You’re not in pain—far from it actually. The all too familiar heat between your legs has you slowly sliding your legs together underneath the table to ease the tension. The throbbing is subtle but it’s there, rendering you unable to focus on anything else but that need.

“Not hungry?” Namjoon asks you, dabbing blood off the corner of his lip with a white cloth.

You glance toward the head of the table where Namjoon sits back in his chair watching with sapphire eyes as your hand swirls around a spoon. You tense under his gaze, which is entirely devoid of emotions when it travels back to your face.

The month that you’ve been in this manor you’ve picked up on some things about its peculiar residents.

This always seemed to be Namjoon’s demeanor—composed and seemingly one step ahead of everyone else. Namjoon is always eerily calm even when he should be livid. It only makes him more intimidating to you.

You’ve always wondered what goes on in his head. Maintaining a mansion full of different mythical creatures must be tough on him, and if it is, he doesn’t let it show.

In the corner of your eye, you see Yoongi cradling the pitcher of coffee behind Jungkook. His silent stare is a warning. ‘Don’t let the masters know you’re struggling. Maintain your composure or be punished.’

Working closely with Yoongi has taught you a few things about him too. He hates upsetting his masters and if you mess a single thing up, one of two things can happen. He’ll begin to lecture you about not being an adequate maid or he’ll stay silent and watch you until you crumble and apologize.

His silence is what you’re most afraid of. You’ve never seen what he looks like as a demon; but when he’s upset with you, a cloud of thick dark smoke rises from his body. If you ever do get to see his real demon form, you’re positive punishment would be laid out for you.

And that’s how he looks at you now—silently.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you lie. Even without Yoongi’s warning eyes, you wouldn’t want them to know about the embarrassing need between your legs anyway. Though you’re sure Jimin or Taehyung wouldn’t mind jumping at the chance to help you. They’re always eager to touch you and keep you close to their sides. Their hands roaming your body doesn’t seem like such a bad idea right now though.

All chatter halts as all the men turn their curious eyes towards you, all of a sudden very interested in your loss of appetite. Seokjin even soothingly rubs your back with one hand and you can’t help but melt at his touch. It’s not uncommon for the former angel to give you a hug or a head pat when you’re feeling down, but this time his hands on you feel different.

It’s like his hand sends tingles throughout your body, more importantly between your legs, as it rubs warm and soothing circles on your back. His hands between your legs are all you can think of—the heavenly angel, sinning between your thighs. His lips, his tongue on you, licking up your arousal like it’s the sweetest ambrosia.

“If you’re not feeling well you should rest,” Seokjin says, moving his hand to your forehead to check your temperature.

Once his hand makes contact with your bare skin, you bite your lip at how warm his hand feels against you and you just want more of his touch. You want to feel all of him against you.

He flinches back once he touches your skin and his face scrunches up in worry. “Oh my, you’re burning up.”

“You’ve been working her too hard, Yoongi,” Taehyung says. He’s sitting on you’re right and leans in closer to inspect your heated face. His hand subtly slides onto your thigh and you immediately move your hand over his to make sure he doesn’t move it. He looks shocked by your unusually bold move. Normally, you play coy and pretend that you don’t like his sly advances and push him away.

“I only give her as much as she can handle, master.”

You let out an accidental whimper. Why did that sound so much more sexual than it was? The idea of Yoongi’s punishments has a different ring to you now. If you were to disobey Yoongi would he bend you over his lap and make you beg for forgiveness?

Your grip tightens around Taehyung’s hand.

The rest of the table looks at you wide-eyed, a few gaping, mainly Jungkook who looks ready to disappear into his chair.

“What the hell was that?” Hoseok blurts, averting his gaze from your heated one.

“You sound like me after a sip of my aphrodisiac,” Jimin giggles to which Jungkook pales.

“W-What?” he stutters, a panicked expression settling on his face.

Namjoon puts down his glass, licking the drop of blood on the corner of his lip.

Jungkook shifts uncomfortably, an action not unnoticed by Namjoon’s sharp eye.

“Speak,“ Namjoon says, shooting a sharp glare towards Jungkook, causing him to press himself further into his chair. "If you know what’s the matter, then speak, Jungkook.”

At the sound of his name, Jungkook almost yelps, anxious to admit his mistake. He ducks his head down and fiddles with his hands in his lap.

"I-I think I accidentally let her drink some of Jimin’s aphrodisiac,” he mutters underneath his breath, voice trailing off near the end. The atmosphere surrounding the table goes silent for a moment. Namjoon simply stares at Jungkook with silent anger. Jungkook avoids eye contact with the entire table, especially you.

“You!” Jimin laughs aloud, interrupting the silence, and points his finger towards Jungkook, hardly getting a word past his laughter. “You gave her my aphrodisiac?! What were you trying to do, Jungkook? Get her into bed with you?”

“No! No, I swear!” Jungkook cries, sounding more and more helpless and meak, “I-I didn’t mean to! I was only trying to help! S-She said she was stressed!”

Namjoon puts his elbows on the table and rubs his temples. A groan escapes him. “How much did you drink, ___?”

You don’t trust your voice to speak without sounding breathless and needy. “A little,” you respond weakly.

“And how much is a little?” he repeats this time the question is aimed towards Jungkook.

“One…eh, m-maybe four shots?”

Yoongi looks disappointed in you, but you don’t really seem to mind. Your thoughts are still on the kinds of punishment Yoongi’s hands could give you. “What am I going to do with you?” He tsks.

“Don’t worry; the potion should wear off in a couple of hours or so. If you need any help with those urges feel free to knock on my door.” Jimin winks from across the table. Given your state, you wouldn’t mind taking him up on that offer. You’ve often walked by and heard the sounds his ‘guests’ make in his bedroom all night long. His very skilled hands stroking your body, the sweet lull of a siren’s song singing in your ears as he-

“The aphrodisiac potion may wear off in a couple of hours for us but the same can’t be said for humans. ___ should be monitored in case this potion turns out to have more negative consequences than expected.” He turns toward you. “To make you more comfortable I’ll let you choose who you’d like to watch over you.”

WHO WOULD YOU LIKE TO CHOOSE?

Seokjin - angel | coming soon

Namjoon - werewolf/vampire hybrid | coming soon

Yoongi - demon

Hoseok - dragon | coming soon

Jimin - siren | coming soon

Taehyung - kumiho | coming soon

Jungkook - baku | coming soon

#bts #bts smut #jungkook smut #taehyung smut #jimin smut #yoongi smut #hoseok smut #namjoon smut #seokjin smut #bts fanfiction

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augustmoon259 · 3 years

Text

"Unholy Blood" Pureblood!Fem!Vampire Reader x Hayan Park

Ten years ago, people who could transform into vampires began to appear in Korea. Ever since then, these morphing vampires have been slaughtering people while hiding their true identities. But there's something that people don't know. A secret, that if it got out, would change the world and the way that people saw vampires forever.

Pureblood vampires. Vampires who are stronger, faster, and more powerful in every way. How do I know about them? Because I am a pureblood vampire.

o - o - o - o - o

My parents were both pureblood vampires. They used to live in Korea, before they had me. They decided to move to the US and settle down in a small town.

My life was a peaceful one. Sure, it was hard trying to hide my identity as a vampire, but it wasn't that bad. I was homeschooled, up until I was ready to go off to college.

College was a new experience for me. I had fun making new friends, taking classes taught by different teachers, and being in a new environment. I went home to visit my parents during breaks.

I wish I had gotten to say goodbye to them, if I knew that I'd never be able to see them again.

o - o - o - o - o

It was winter break. I was excited to see my parents again and spend time with them during the holidays. I had plans for movies we could watch together, games we could play, and more.

The bus stopped in my neighborhood, and I got off, still brimming with anticipation. That is, until I saw the smoke.

The smoke was coming from the direction of my family's home. I ran there as fast as I could. When I got there, I saw the firefighters putting out the last of the flames.

Our house was a complete wreck. I frantically rushed past the onlookers and firefighters to dig through the rubble, and search for my parents. I was dragged away, still screaming and sobbing.

Later, the police told me about what had happened. It was reported that two explosions were heard from our house, and then a fire started not long after. The firefighters were dispatched, but it still took a while for them to get from the station to our house. They found my parents' bodies, unrecognizable as they were.

The explosions were written off as gas leaks, since our house was an old one. This may have been a reasonable explanation to anyone else, but not me. I knew better.

We were pureblood vampires.

Any regular vampire that manages to consume the heart of a pureblood vampire would become a pureblood vampire themself. We knew this, but we thought we were safe here in the US, when vampires began to appear in Korea ten years ago.

My parents must have sacrificed themselves to destroy their hearts, along with their attackers.

Our mailbox still had some mail in it. Bills to pay, letters for my parents, and letters for me as well. I expected this. What I was not expecting was the note left in the mailbox, addressed to me.

If you want revenge for your parents' deaths, come to Korea.

I crushed the note in my hand.

Whoever came after my parents didn't succeed, but it cost my parents their lives. Now they're after me. They know I exist.

Fine. If they think I'll be easy prey, I'll prove them wrong.

o - o - o - o - o

Living in Korea was different from living in the States.

I had applied to study abroad, and the university I applied for was Hanguk University. I managed to rent an apartment at a decent price in a modest neighborhood. I heard that there was a nice church in the area, run by a priest who also takes care of orphans from the nearby orphanage.

It was hard enough adjusting to life in another country, never mind one where bloodthirsty monsters come out at night. Lucky for me, I had the distinct advantage of being one of those "monsters".

Admittedly, not only did I feel guilty for not being able to prevent my parents' deaths, I realized what a privileged life I had been living. All my life, just on the other side of the world, there were innocent people being terrorized by vampires.

But now I'm here, and I have the power to do something about it.

I'd find whoever was responsible for my parents' murders, and I'll rid the world of vampires, one bastard at a time.

Between going out at night to kill vampires, and scrounging up information about their secret hierarchy and criminal underworld, I was also busy with my normal, "human" life.

I attended the orientation for my new university.

Yet it wasn't at the orientation that I'd meet the woman who'd change my life.

o - o - o - o - o

The first day of school was always the same: new students rushing to find their classes, old students saying hi to their friends, and teachers making note of who to look out for that year.

I greeted a few people I had met at the orientation, but there was one girl who was going around greeting...everyone. She was quite pretty, with dark brown hair and eyes.

She was so enthusiastic, bowing her head at every person she came across, that I couldn't help but smile.

With her friendly demeanor, I was sure she'd already have made plenty of friends, but I noticed later that she had no one to sit at lunch with. I myself was sitting alone, but that was of my own volition. I debated whether or not to go to her table and sit with her, but I opted not to, in the end.

Over the next few days, I kept seeing her around. She still greeted everyone cheerfully, and had earned the nickname "Miss Popular" around campus. I found it very fitting for her.

Things continued on like this. Her, greeting everyone with enthusiasm but sitting alone. Me, silently watching her.

I decided that I had done enough observing, and that it was time to formally meet her.

Bringing my lunch with me over to her table, I sat across from her. She had started eating her lunch by then, so when I unexpectedly arrived at her table, she choked on her food.

"Hey! Hey, are you okay?!"

I got up from my seat, prepared to do the Heimlich maneuver if necessary, but she waved a hand to stop me, and grabbed a nearby water bottle with the other hand to drink. She beat her chest a few times until she was no longer gasping, and I sat down when I confirmed that she was fine. Other people who had noticed the incident went back to eating their lunches.

We sat there, awkwardly gazing at each other, until she groaned and covered her face with her hands in embarrassment.

"Nice going Hayan...first person who decides to sit with you at lunch, and you make a fool of yourself..."

"Oh no, that was my fault! I'm sorry for surprising you like that...so, uh, your name is Hayan?"

Hayan took one hand off her face, before slowly removing her remaining hand.

"Yes, my name is Hayan...Park Hayan."

I introduced myself, and then we...shook hands. I decided to start a new topic of conversation, before Hayan had an existential crisis.

"Hayan...is it alright if I call you Hayan?"

She nodded her head affirmatively before waiting for what else I had to say.

"I hope this isn't out of line for me to say, but I've sort of been watching you for a while now. I notice that you always say hi to everyone, but you're still sitting alone at lunch? Um, Hayan, do you have friends?"

Hayan looked taken aback for a moment, before hanging her head in shame.

"It's...it's complicated? I've been trying to make friends, and since I didn't attend the orientation, I thought saying hi to everyone would be a surefire way to meet new people, but I haven't had much luck..."

"You didn't attend the orientation? So that's why I didn't recognize you. Hayan, if you're trying to make new friends, would you...like to be friends?"

"Seriously?! I mean, how could I reject?!"

Hayan enthusiastically slammed her hands on the table and jumped up, before sheepishly sitting back down when she noticed people's curious glances.

"Yes! Let's be friends!"

I talked with Hayan until lunch was over, and it turned out that we had a lot in common. Neither Hayan nor I were able to finish our lunches, busy as we were with chatting with each other. We decided to exchange phone numbers to keep in touch with each other.

After that, I wasn't occupied with just school and my nighttime activities. I hung out with Hayan outside of school. We went to cafes and coffee shops to get drinks and spend more time with each other.

She and I were the same age: twenty. When I applied to Hanguk University, I had to apply as a freshman, since not all of my credits from my previous college transferred over.

Hayan was looking forward to a get together that some seniors had organized at a pub. Students from every year would be there, and she hoped to meet other freshman besides me. I wasn't one for drinking, since vampires couldn't get drunk anyway, but I decided to go for Hayan's sake.

Gatherings of college students tend to go south pretty quickly, but it was what happened after that was a disaster.

o - o - o - o - o

The pub was crowded, noisy, and filled with the laughter and shouting of overexcited young adults.

I sat down at a random table with Hayan. When we sat down, I heard someone suggest a drinking game to lighten the mood. Next thing I knew, we were all pointing fingers at each other, and Hayan was the unfortunate person chosen to drink.

Two hours and several more drinking games later, Hayan was still unsuccessful at making another friend. I was surprised to note that Hayan was not a lightweight at all. She had drunk nearly twenty bottles of soju by herself! And If I was being honest with myself, I thought that made her even more amazing than she already was.

"Hayan, do you want to go home now?"

"Ah, yeah, I guess so...It seems my latest plan to make friends failed..."

In my head, I could see the comical tears of defeat in her eyes.

Hayan got up and grabbed her bag, but before we left the pub, a senior announced one last drinking competition. It was between a heavyset senior named Jang and anyone who dared to challenge him. If no one won, the freshman had to show off a talent during our start of year trip.

I knew what was coming before anyone else. I decided to take bets, and when the drinking match was over, I made a nice one hundred thousand won from people who had bet Hayan would lose.

Actually, calling it a "match" would be wrong. It was so one-sided, I almost felt bad for Jang.

Hayan finally got her wish granted. I saw two freshman asking Hayan for her number to join their study group. As I looked at Hayan's giddy face, and the admiring expressions of everyone else around us, I felt happy for Hayan.

Just when Hayan was making a toast to her victory, the sirens went off.

The joy of everyone around us immediately died out, to be replaced with worry and fear instead.

People scrambled to gather their belongings and leave the pub, and I hurried over to Hayan's side.

"Come on, Hayan. We'd better go. The sirens mean that vampires will be out soon..."

"Right! Um, let's go!"

We left the pub, prepared to follow everyone else in order to catch the last bus.

"Hayan! Let me walk you home!"

Before I knew what was happening, there was a random guy standing in front of Hayan. He completely ignored me. If that wasn't enough to piss me off, his condescending smirk and the arrogant way he held himself did. Let me guess, this guy's one of those idiots who try to act macho in front of girls to impress them.

"Um, no thank you. I already have a friend I'm walking home with..."

"A friend? Sure you do. Come on, what are you so afraid of? Me?"

"Hey buster, back off. She already said she's got someone to walk home with!"

I shoved him away. As he recovered from my unexpected interference, he quickly masked his anger with the same infuriating smirk. He gave me a once over, before his smirk widened.

"So this must be the friend you mentioned. Well, I can always walk you both home."

Great. Just great. Not only is he wasting our precious time, he's hitting on Hayan and me.

"Tch. Fine. Clearly you're invested in walking with us, for some unfathomable reason, so I'll deign to let you join us, but only if I'm between you and Hayan."

He seemed to be more interested in Hayan than me, so I thought putting myself between her and him would get him to stop talking. Instead, he kept blabbering on about how vampires are no big deal, and there's nothing to worry about.

He's extremely lucky that we finally made it to the bus stop. Otherwise, I might have punched him.

There were some people running to get on the bus before it left. The annoying guy was still flirting with Hayan, but my attention was diverted when I heard a crash. The three of us turned our heads toward the source of the noise.

It was a man who had been thrown on the ground. The other man standing above him was obviously a gangster, a loan shark out to collect his debt. My intuition told me something bad was going to happen, and not because of the loan shark.

Sometimes, I hate being right.

It happened faster than the human eye could see, but I could discern perfectly with my vision. The man on the ground thrust his arm straight through the loan shark's chest.

As he stood up and shoved the now dead body off himself, the vampire walked closer step by step to Hayan and I. The annoying senior had long run away. He really was just a coward in the end. I would deal with him tomorrow. Right now, I had bigger things to worry about.

Normally, I'd just transform and then kill this no-name vampire, but I had to worry about Hayan. She was digging through her bag, looking for something. If only the bus was still around. Then Hayan could have run away and escaped.

I made a split second decision.

"Hayan. Listen to me. Run away as far as you can and don't look back."

"What? But, what about you? I can't leave you here alone!"

"Damn it Hayan, please just run away!"

"And where do you think you're going, bitch?!"

The vampire lunged towards Hayan and grabbed her hair. Before he could bite her, I transformed and slammed him to the ground. I smashed his head in, and watched as his body scattered into dust.

With the immediate threat out of the way, I checked on Hayan. She had fallen on the ground when the vampire let go of her hair. I helped her as she stood up weakly. Hayan blinked, as she alternated between looking at the crater where the vampire used to be, and me. I spread my arms out to either side, and gazed steadily back at her.

"This is me. This is who I really am. I'm a vampire, a monster that people want dead. Hayan...do you hate me too?"

I waited with bated breath for her answer. The truth is, I could erase her memories. Make it so she never remembered what happened this night. But I didn't want to.

Ever since my parents died, I had no one else who knew the truth of who I really was. I was good at pretending. I've been doing it my whole life. But I needed just one person I didn't have to pretend with, and I hoped that person could be Hayan.

Hayan studied my white hair and blue eyes. She looked pensive.

"No...no I don't hate you. Because you're my friend."

She hugged me, and if I noticed that her hold was tighter than normal, I didn't mention it.

"Hayan...thank you."

I hugged her back.

We remained like that for a while, until I offered to take her home.

"Wait, you want to...you want to carry me?! In-in your arms?!"

"Well, yes. I could also give you a piggyback ride, but since I'll be running and jumping on rooftops, this should be more comfortable for you."

"O-okay."

Putting one arm under Hayan's legs, and the other supporting her back, I made sure Hayan was securely in my hold when I leapt from the ground. Hayan kept her eyes closed the entire time, until I landed with a thump in front of the church.

"Good night, Hayan."

I smiled softly and gave Hayan a small wave, before hurrying home.

o - o - o - o - o

Hayan and I grew closer after that night.

Since I no longer had to pretend I was human around her, I invited her over to my apartment, and vice versa. She introduced me to her "father" and her "siblings".

"It's nice to meet you sir. I mean, Father Michael. Um, Father-Michael-sir?"

As it turns out, Hayan was an orphan. I knew she lived in the same neighborhood as me, but not at the orphanage next to the church that I heard about when I first rented my apartment. The neighborhood ladies were always giggling about Father Michael, but he was more intimidating in person, even to a pureblood vampire like me.

"At ease. You're the friend Hayan has been talking about?"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

Hayan was fighting back laughter behind me, while I kept on sweating nervously.

"It's good she has a friend like you."

"Thank you, Father!"

I barely held back a sigh of relief that I seemed to make a good impression on Hayan's adoptive father. It was time to meet the younger siblings now.

"Woah! This is all for us?!"

Hayan's adoptive siblings, Yerim and Yunsu, bounced around eagerly when they saw I had brought bread for them. Hayan told me her siblings really loved bread, especially sticky rice bread. I had bought a couple for them from the school dining hall, and then went to a bakery to buy some more bread (mochi, sesame, tapioca, etc.) Since I couldn't eat any of it myself, I bought what was recommended to me by the baker, and hoped for the best.

"Hayan! You need to bring your friend by more often!"

"You are my new favorite person!"

"I thought I was your favorite person?!"

I chuckled as Hayan chased her siblings around in order to catch them and tickle them.

Hayan has such a lovely family. It's no wonder she's also a lovely person.

o - o - o - o - o

It was a normal evening at the university. I had stayed behind at school to work on homework and assignments with some classmates.

The student body was abuzz today with new gossip about the "super senior". He was the senior who had entered college nine years ago, and still had yet to graduate. This was none of my business. What was my business was that he was rude and a bully. In fact, just that afternoon, he had bumped into Hayan and insulted her instead of apologizing. If I saw him, I'd give him a piece of my mind, regardless if his family was well off or not.

After finishing our assignments, I accompanied my classmates on their way to get the last shuttle bus. To my displeasure, we had the misfortune of running into the aforementioned "super senior" Byungsu.

My classmates greeted him, but when he gave them no reply, they said goodbye to me and ran off to catch the bus.

I noticed that he seemed to be in a daze. Hayan did tell me that it seemed like he was sick, and looking at him now, I could tell that she was speaking the truth. Regardless of any beef I had with him, if he was feeling unwell, he should go see a doctor.

"Hey, Byungsu. Do you need to go to the hospital?"

He didn't answer, instead just glaring at me, and clenching his fists. Whatever was going through his mind at that moment was not pleasant. I wanted to ask him more questions, but we were interrupted by a man on the phone.

It was Professor Donggyu Park. He was not one of my professors, but Hayan said he's one of her favorites. He's very dedicated to his job, has memorized all of his students' names, and even speaks to students on days he doesn't teach. It looked like he was in a hurry to get home, judging by how he greeted us quickly and then got into his car.

I was too late to stop what happened next.

Byungsu threw Professor Park's car into the air. It flipped over and landed on its top with a crash. I dashed toward the car to check on Professor Park. He was bleeding from his head and unconscious, but he was still alive.

I was the one who was clenching my fists this time. Well, I had the perfect target to vent my anger out on.

This side of the school was deserted at this time of the night, and the security cameras were down for maintenance today. With no one watching me, I could kill Byungsu.

He was heading this way, no doubt to murder the professor.

I opened the car door, gently took Professor Park out, and placed him on the ground. Then I transformed.

"What the fuck, you're a vampire too?"

"Shut up. You won't be alive for long anyway."

My hand was enveloped in blue flames as I disappeared and then reappeared in front of Byungsu. I grabbed his face, and watched as it melted away. The fire burned everything and left nothing behind, not even ashes.

After de-transforming, I performed first aid on Professor Park and called 119.

When the ambulance arrived, I was questioned by police officers about what had happened. I told them the fake story I made up: I was with some classmates on their way to catch the last bus home, and then we ran into Byungsu. I went back inside the university to get something I had forgotten. When I came back outside, I saw Professor Park's car turned over and him inside unconscious.

I was held in questioning until the police contacted my classmates to confirm I was with them. Professor Park woke up after receiving emergency medical attention, and told the police he had also seen Byungsu. That, coupled with the sudden emergence of footage showing Byungsu had caused a traffic accident and killed the victims, all but cemented the fact that Byungsu the vampire had attacked Professor Park.

Byungsu was put on the national wanted list, and around campus people started calling me "The Lifesaver".

o - o - o - o - o

To recap, since school started, I became friends with Hayan, saved her from a vampire by revealing my secret, met Father Michael and Hayan's younger siblings, and also saved another person from a vampire attack.

My life in Korea had been extremely eventful, and it only became more so with the introduction of Detective Euntae Hwang.

It was another day at the university, and there were students outside of the school protesting the recent vampire attacks. I was irritated, but I could also understand where they were coming from. Recent examples like Byungsu had shown that it was all too easy for vampires to hide on campus.

I was with Hayan, and the two other freshman she had met at the pub.

"Excuse me, are you Hayan Park?"

We all turned around to see a handsome red haired man. I looked at Hayan, and from her reaction, she recognized him.

"Hayan," I whispered to her, "you know this man?"

"Yes," she whispered back, "he saved me and my siblings from gangsters this one time."

Well, if he helped Hayan, he could be a good person, but he could also be faking it...

"Oh, and you must be the other person I'm looking for!"

I pointed at myself in surprise. "Me?"

"Yes, you! Let me introduce myself..."

He smiled, before proceeding to tell us all how about how he graduated from the police academy at the top of his class...and how he was made captain of the criminal investigations unit...and how he was the superstar of the vampire task force....and...

I sighed and facepalmed.

"We get it, you're a detective. Please, we don't need to hear your entire life story..."

"Oh, silly me! I chattered on for too long, huh?"

Hayan's friends said goodbye before leaving us with the detective, blushes still present on their faces. As Hayan and I walked to the dining hall with the detective to continue our conversation with him, I noticed a lot of attention on us. Or rather, the detective.

By the time we got to our destination, Hayan and I had begrudgingly learned more about him.

He wasn't kidding when he said he was an expert about vampires. He had even invented a method to kill vampires: paralyzing them and then burning them alive in a furnace. To create such a brutal method, this man...he was dangerous.

I was on my guard while waiting for what else he had to say. He had ordered an entire table's worth of food, while I ordered drinks for Hayan and I. He insisted on buying food for us as well, but I rejected him quite firmly.

The detective, Euntae Hwang as he called himself, asked us about the vampire who had killed the loan shark. Apparently, that was what Detective Hwang was investigating. The police were trying to figure out how the vampire died, and if it was related to the recent case of Byungsu...

I could tell that Hayan was nervous around the detective. He must be bringing up bad memories of the vampire attack.

Detective Hwang didn't let up in his interrogation though. If anything, he got more extreme. Did he suspect Hayan and I were vampires? Well, that wouldn't do. I pondered how to get out of this mess, when something unexpected happened.

The detective cut his hand with the knife he was using for his food.

It was quite a deep cut, and the blood flowed steadily from the wound.

"Ouch! I cut myself! I guess my fingers were too tense..."

Was he that desperate to reveal us as vampires? I'm glad I had the foresight to order a drink, so that I had something else to focus on instead of the blood. But it made me upset that Hayan seemed to look even more uncomfortable now.

"Detective, why don't you go to the nurse's office and get a bandage for that cut?"

"Are you sure? I can always get a bandage at the police station..."

"No, no, you should definitely go and get that checked out. The sooner the better."

"Alright then. I suppose this is goodbye for now."

'For now?' I hope that's 'forever' instead. The detective left after packing up the rest of his food, and I wanted Hayan and I to go home as quickly as possible, but Hayan insisted on buying some sticky rice bread for her siblings. I was going to object, but caved after Hayan gave me her best pair of puppy dog eyes.

The line for the baked goods was long today. We waited for a while, until we finally bought the bread and left the dining hall. But, we ran into the detective on our way out.

"Hey, we meet again!"

I facepalmed, for a different reason this time.

"Yayyyy...so glad we keep running into each other."

If he noticed my sarcasm, the detective didn't comment on it.

"Well, we'd love to stay and chat more, but Hayan has to go home and take care of her very sick siblings..."

"Huh? But my siblings aren't -"

"Yep! Very sick! Oh the poor little ones!"

I grabbed Hayan's hand and we speed walked away from the detective...

....

"It's time for us to takes matters into our own hands! Let's prove that we're not vampires!"

Damn it.

The protestors from earlier were now cutting people in order to prove that they weren't vampires. It was chaos all around us. Some students were willing, but most thought that the student council protestors were taking it too far. I thought about going back inside and waiting for the chaos to die down. There had to be teachers who would stop this madness, right?

I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked back to see it was Detective Hwang.

He leaned down to whisper to Hayan and I, "Just start walking." So we did exactly that, until we were stopped.

The student council members were blocking our path.

"Have you done the test to prove you're not a vampire?"

They weren't backing down. Hayan raised a complaint, but that only seemed to make them angrier. One of them grabbed Hayan's wrist, and I prepared to brush it off, but when he pulled back Hayan's sleeve, we all saw the bandage on her arm.

It was still wet with blood.

But whose? Is it...the detective's? From when he cut his hand earlier with the knife? When and how did he get the bandage onto Hayan's arm?

"You see? We already did it. Do you need more proof?"

Detective Hwang was calm and collected as he slid Hayan's sleeve back down. That should have been the end of the matter, but a new obstacle stood in our way: the student council leader.

"She could have gotten that bandage anywhere. I wasn't able to see her do the test, so I need her to do it again."

This was getting ridiculous.

The student council leader made a go at grabbing Hayan's arm again, but Detective Hwang caught him midair.

"It's a crime to go around using a blade on people against their will. Unless you want to be charged, I suggest stopping."

He flashed his police ID at the student council members, which was finally enough to get them to leave us alone. The three of us were able to get away from campus unimpeded.

I was reluctantly grateful for the detective. Hayan and I could have waited inside the university, but then the council members would have kept accosting other students outside. With the threat of police intervention, they'd be unlikely to continue.

"Thank you...Detective Hwang."

"Oh please, call me Captain."

"...Captain Hwang."

He added his number to Hayan and I's contacts, before the three of us parted ways.

o - o - o - o - o

I had gotten a text from Hayan.

I...I need you. Please...please come. I'm sitting in front of the pizza restaurant...

I knew exactly where Hayan was referring to. I grabbed my umbrella and my rain jacket, before quickly heading out to find Hayan. I had no idea why she'd send me such a strange text, but whatever the reason, it sounded urgent.

The rain was pouring, and Hayan was absolutely soaked.

"Hayan! You're going to get sick like that!"

I gave Hayan my umbrella to hold, while I went into the nearest store to buy a towel for Hayan. I came back out and gave her the towel to dry off while still holding onto the umbrella. After she finished drying off, Hayan looked...dejected.

"Can you tell me now why you called me out here?"

Hayan kept her head lowered as she explained what happened to her.

"Father Michael...he...he and I got into a fight."

"You got into a fight...? About what?"

"He...he's not letting me go to school anymore."

"What?!"

I was flabbergasted. Then, my astonishment turned into indignation.

"He...he can't do that! You haven't even finished the semester yet!"

"I know...I tried arguing against it, but he...he's made up his mind."

"Hayan..."

I was still aggravated on Hayan's behalf, but seeing her appear so defeated dampened my mood.

"Maybe you need to spend some time away from Father Michael...that could do both you and him good."

"But...where would I stay?"

"Don't be siily! You can stay with me!"

"Really...? You'd do that for me?"

"Of course!"

I gave Hayan a hug. She was no longer frowning, but grinning in relief instead.

Hayan stayed over at my apartment that night. She went home briefly to get her things and her scooter, and to tell Father Michael she was staying over at my place. That made him more upset, but Hayan didn't care. She was still mad at him.

My apartment was relatively small, so I didn't have a guest room for Hayan to stay in. She told me it was okay, and decided to sleep on my couch instead. I was embarrassed I couldn't get Hayan a more comfortable place to sleep.

The next day, Hayan and I decided to go on a walk in the neighborhood to cool off. It was raining again, and we saw a bunch of people gathered around the street gutters. They were panicking, and when we peeked inside the gutter to see the source of all the commotion, we saw a cat close to drowning.

I wanted to help the cat, but I didn't want to reveal my alter ego. Then, I came up with a brilliant idea.

"Attention, please! Does everyone here know what tug of war is? Yes? We can do something similar! Everyone here line up behind me, and hold on to the person in front of you! Then, pull with all your might!"

They did as I instructed, and with the help of my vampire strength, we were able to pull the lid off of the gutter and save the cat. Someone had called 119 beforehand, but since we all saved the cat, there was nothing left to do but get our picture taken in the newspaper. Hayan and I were one of the people who received the "Good Samaritan Award".

Hayan wanted to go home and tell Father Michael about how we saved the cat. I didn't think it was a good idea, but I conceded in the end. Surely Father Michael couldn't be mad about saving an innocent animal's life?

I was disappointed to find that I was wrong. Hayan came to me in tears. She had another argument with Father Michael. So another night passed where Hayan stayed over with me.

Father Michael called Hayan the next morning to tell her that he, Yerim, and Yunsu moved to another neighborhood. He sounded apologetic about the day before. He told Hayan that he moved her stuff to their new home, and if she'd like to come over to see it.

"Go ahead, I don't mind. You should check up on your siblings too."

I gave Hayan a thumbs up, and encouraged her to go. I'd still be there for her when she needed me. Hayan gratefully thanked me, and went over to check up on her siblings, and Father Michael. She called me later, in better spirits.

"I patched things up with Father Michael. It's still kind of rough, but we're making progress."

"Hayan, that's great news! Why don't you stay over tonight then?"

"Okay...."

Hayan stayed with Father Michael, Yerim, and Yunsu for the rest of the week, while I was busy with school. I had mostly accepted the fact that Hayan wouldn't be going to college anymore, but at least we could still hang out together outside of it.

o - o - o - o - o

I got a request from Hayan to come and watch over her siblings for her, while she went out.

"Thank you so much for coming over! Yerim and Yunsu are in bed, but if they wake up and need anything, I feel much better knowing you're there with them."

"It's no problem at all! But just out of curiosity, what do you need to go out for?"

"Father Michael still hasn't come home, even though it's already night time. He's never been this late before..."

"Oh, I see. You'll be going to the church then?"

"Yep!"

"Okay, I'll see you when you get back!"

I expected Hayan to come back with Father Michael, after dealing with whatever was keeping him busy at the church.

But instead, Hayan came back with a police officer and a coroner.

"Unnie, what's going on?"

Yerim and Yunsu were rubbing the sleep from their eyes after they had been woken up by Hayan.

"As Ms. Park requested, the three of you present, sans Ms. Park's friend, are the next of kin of Father Michael. It is with a heavy heart and our deepest condolences that we announce the passing of Myeongsu Choi on this night. We are sorry for your loss, and offer you all our deepest sympathies."

After the coroner announced the death of Father Michael, the police officer and the coroner left to allow Hayan and her siblings to grieve. Yerim and Yunsu were quiet, before tears started falling from their eyes.

"U-unnie, what did they mean? F-father Michael is dead?"

"Yerim....Yunsu..."

Since Hayan arrived earlier, she had tried keeping up a strong front for her siblings. But as she embraced them in her arms, I saw her shoulders trembling. I enveloped Hayan in my arms as the four of us stood there, the quiet of the apartment interspersed with the sniffles and sobs of Hayan and her siblings.

Three days later, Father Michael's funeral was held. Captain Hwang came, along with everyone in the neighborhood, to pay their respects to Father Michael.

I stayed with Hayan and her siblings the days after the funeral. Hayan and her siblings had to prepare to move out, because of the death of their adoptive father. I helped them pack their things back at the apartment, while Hayan visited the rectory to get Father Michael's belongings.

She later told me about the letters Father Michael had written to her.

"He wrote all those letters...for me....he wanted to give them to me, but never found the chance to..."

'And now he never would', was left unsaid.

"I found this too...a business card from the Red Bomb Club."

"Red Bomb Club?!"

That was a club I had found out about during my nighttime excursions. Vampires frequented the club, and even worse, they lured unsuspecting humans in to become their prey, by posing as a safe haven.

"Why did Father Michael have a business card?"

"I don't know, but I overheard police officers at the funeral say a bunch of them had been stuck in Father's pockets."

"Could this be related? You don't think...they killed Father Michael?"

"Not just think...I know they did."

Hayan looked absolutely enraged.

"What will you do now?"

"I want to get revenge. But there's something I have to tell you first...at the church tonight."

o - o - o - o - o

Hayan and I snuck away to the church after making sure Yerim and Yunsu were safe and sound.

The roof and the walls of the church had burned away, leaving gaping holes for the moonlight to stream in.

"Okay, we're at the church. What did you want to talk about?"

"Remember that day you saved me from a vampire? You were truthful with me then, so I want to be truthful with you now."

"Truth? What truth?"

"I'm...also a pureblood vampire."

Before my very eyes, Hayan pulled her hair free from her ponytail, and I watched as it lost its color. Her eyes that I loved so much turned blue, like my own eyes when I transformed.

"This...this is...."

"I'm sorry for not telling you sooner, especially when you told me first..."

"....Amazing!"

"Huh? You're not betrayed? Upset I kept this from you?"

"Why would I be upset, dummy? You're the first pureblood I've ever met aside from my parents."

"Your parents? You never talk about them..."

"That's because..." I hesitated before forcing out the words. "...they died."

"Oh...would it be alright if I asked how?"

"They died in a fire after sacrificing themselves."

"Just like Father Michael..."

Hayan and I contemplated our losses, and the tragedies that led us to where we were at present.

"Is it okay now if I asked about your life? How did you end up with Father Michael?"

"Father Michael...took me in when I was ten. I had no one and nowhere left to go. I hated myself so much that...I even tried to turn myself in for being a vampire."

"And Father Michael stopped you?"

"Yes...Father Michael became a second dad for me."

"What happened to your birth parents?"

"I can't remember. My memories of before I met Father...are unclear."

"Well, I'll help you get your memories back! After you get revenge on Father Michael's killer."

"Thank you...thank you so much..."

Hayan hugged me tightly, just like the day I saved her from the vampire.

After she and I let go of each other, I took Hayan's hands in mine.

"Hayan...I'll always be by your side. And I'm not just saying this because we're both pureblood vampires. Even if I wasn't a vampire, I'd support you no matter what. You're my friend, and I'll be there for you, through whatever hardships may come."

"And you can depend on me too. You don't have to shoulder your burdens alone."

Hayan and I left the church, our hands still interlocked.

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hyungieyoongi · 3 years

Text

Choices: “Run Away to You” Part 5

“If we start this again, I’m not letting you go. Not this time.”

“Then don’t. Don’t let me go.”

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Former Actress!Reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Genre: Angst + FLUFFY FLUFF (it has been quite the buildup but we are HERE, folks!!!)

Series Masterlist: Run Away to You

Premise: You ran away from your acting career one year ago, disappearing from the spotlight without a trace. No one from your past life knew where to find you. On the anniversary of your disappearance, your carefully constructed reality is shattered.

Part 4 // Part 6

---

Music blared in your headphones as you wandered around the unfamiliar apartment. Marianne had already dropped off your duffel bag of supplies for your temporary stay here; it was currently waiting to be unpacked, left in the first random bedroom you could find.

Yoongi had come back to his studio after your talk with Marianne, a member of his team from the label following closely behind him. Because photographers were still swarming outside of your building, the label decided it would be best to put you in an apartment on their premises. While the number of cameras had certainly dwindled since that morning, it was best for you to stay hidden and to keep a low profile.

As Marianne and Yoongi’s staff discussed the details of getting a bag packed on your behalf, Yoongi quietly informed you that the apartment was in the same building as his and the rest of the band’s shared home–the unit the label owned was for staff and security detail who needed to stay close to the members.

You hoped that meant you would have a chance to talk to him again. The two-week time limit that Marianne gave you had already started to tick like a clock in your head.

For now, you were left alone to get settled into your new space with strict instructions to stay offline and only answer the phone for Marianne, Yoongi, or the label. You opened the fridge to grab a bottle of water, singing aloud to one of your favorite songs that had just started playing.

Someone snuck up behind you, but your music was too loud to hear them. You spun around, about to take a sip of water, and flinched, a hand flying to your chest to stop your heart from pounding in surprise at the sight of Yoongi standing in front of you.

“Oh my gosh, Yoongi, you scared the shit out of me,” you exclaimed, pulling the headphones out of your ears. Yoongi laughed, his signature gummy smile making an appearance. You scowled. “Hey, stop laughing at me, you can’t just sneak up on people like that,” you said, feigning annoyance.

“And you can’t just leave your door unlocked,” Yoongi scolded.

“I thought this building was supposed to be secure,” you countered.

“Still, can never be too careful,” Yoongi said, a mischievous look in his eyes, “anyone could have come in here.”

“Well, I guess I should be glad it’s you that broke in, huh?” you said, slightly taken aback by how flirtatious you sounded. Yoongi’s blush indicated his own surprise at the banter. He averted his eyes for a second, clearing his throat.

“I, um, I actually came by to invite you to dinner later. At the apartment.”

“Dinner? With you and the, uh, rest of the boys?” you asked, trying to stay casual. You had spent a decent amount of time with the members when you and Yoongi were dating a year ago. You couldn’t imagine you were their favorite person for leaving Yoongi the way you did.

“I figured since you were staying here for a while, you all might as well…reconnect,” Yoongi said hesitantly. You couldn’t help but be a little reluctant when you answered.

“Sure, I’ll be there.”

---

Yoongi gave you instructions on which apartment to go to at 8:00 p.m. tonight and then left your apartment for a rehearsal. You had plenty of time to run this night over again in your head, wondering if you were going to be an unwelcome guest. You and Yoongi might have been a secret from the rest of the world, but you were never able to hide from the boys. They had been just as much a part of your life as Yoongi. You had left them, too.

Before you could knock, the door swung open.

“Noona!” Jungkook exclaimed, grabbing you and spinning you around in a hug.

“Hey, Kook, I missed you.”

“We missed you too, especially hyung. I’m glad you’re back,” Jungkook told you with a bunny smile. His hair was dyed purple at the moment, the long length slightly curling at the ends to frame his face. “Come on, we’re all in the kitchen,” Jungkook said, leading you through their large apartment.

“Hey, Y/N, good to see you,” Taehyung said from his spot on the couch in the living room. Jimin waved at you enthusiastically, his eyes going back to the game the two were playing on the TV. You sighed happily, feeling more comfortable with their warm responses to your presence.

You made it to the kitchen, seeing Jin stir something on the stove in front of him. You gave him a shy smile.

“Hi, Jin.”

“Hey, Y/N, glad you could make it,” Jin said, wiping his hands on a towel by the sink before coming around to give you a quick hug.

“Me too.” Jungkook started poking at whatever was on the stove with a spoon, and Jin immediately started fussing at him to stop ruining his culinary creation.

“Y/N?” you heard a deep voice from behind you. Namjoon was looking at you, his hands casually in his pockets, his dimples indenting his cheeks from his smile as you met his eyes.

“Hey there,” you said, giving him a small wave. He let out a loud laugh at your timidness.

“Come here already,” he said, wrapping you snugly into his embrace. You looked over his shoulder, seeing Hoseok leaning against the doorway to the kitchen, his arms crossed against his chest intimidatingly, brows furrowed. You gulped.

Namjoon must have felt you tense in his arms, letting you go with a confused look on his face. He followed your gaze to where Hoseok was standing, and put a reassuring hand on your shoulder, murmuring to you that you should probably go talk to him.

You took a tentative step forward.

“Hello, Hoseok,” you said, the name foreign on your lips. Your friendship with Hoseok had always been full of laughter and sunshine; there was hardly a time you used his full name rather than an affectionate nickname.

“Y/N,” he acknowledged with a nod. Ah, so he was going to be the one who gave you “the talk.”

“Maybe we should go…catch up?” you suggested, glancing behind you at the flurry of movement in the kitchen. Namjoon, Jin, and Jungkook were desperately trying to look like they weren’t paying attention to the tense energy radiating between you and Hoseok right now. You wondered briefly where Yoongi was, not having seen him in the apartment yet, but you figured it was best to get this part of the evening out of the way first before you saw him.

Hoseok didn’t say anything, so you took it as an invitation to follow him when he turned on his heel and walked toward a room down the hallway. You closed the door softly behind you, waiting for the harsh words to come out of his mouth.

“I apologize for putting you in this situation. I know this is awkward, to say the least,” you admitted. “I’m sure you aren’t thrilled that I’m here. The past couple of days were a bit of a shock to me, too.” Hoseok took a deep breath, a frown gracing his normally happy features.

“I certainly never expected to see you again, especially when Yoongi came back upset because he talked to you.” You grimaced at the thought of how sad and angry Yoongi must have been to warrant this reaction from his best friend and bandmate. If he was in a similar state to you after your conversation about your past, you knew it had been bad. “The last time he was that upset, it was because you weren’t returning his calls because you dropped off the face of the earth. He said you didn’t even tell him where you went. I stayed up with him at night a lot, you know. Back then. I’ve never seen him like that. I certainly don’t ever want to see him like that again. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

You looked down at the ground, your eyes burning.

“Yes,” you breathed. You were so quiet, you wondered if he had heard you at all.

“If you make the choice to come back into his life–into our lives–you have to promise me, you’ll never leave him like that again,” Hoseok said, his voice the most serious you had ever heard it.

“I can’t walk away again, Hoseok. It would hurt me too much,” you made eye contact with Hoseok, his jaw clenched with emotion. “If he wants me to stay, I’ll stay. If he wants me to go, I promise you won’t have to see me or think about me ever again.”

Hoseok visibly deflated in front of you at your confession, his jaw unclenching.

“In that case, welcome back, Y/N.” You almost started crying in relief at his words. You knew that you weren’t going to just go back to how things were with any of the boys right away, but this was a start.

“Thank you, Hobi,” you said, voice cracking with relief. He seemed to relax at the familiar name.

“Now come on, Yoongi won’t be happy that I stole you away,” Hobi said, heading back to the kitchen. The boy in question was sitting on a kitchen stool, looking grumpy.

“Hey, hyung, were you looking for someone?” Hobi said teasingly. Yoongi’s head snapped toward his voice, his face lighting when he saw you.

“You came.”

“You invited me, didn’t you?” you said, walking closer to him, brushing your hand gently against his where it rested on his knee. His fingers instinctively trapped yours.

“Are you two going to sit there and make lovey eyes at each other all night, or can we eat?” Jin teased.

You squeezed Yoongi’s fingers, grateful for how easy it was for the eldest member to break the tension in any situation.

You felt right at home.

---

Your sides hurt from laughing so much at dinner. You had watched and tried to keep up with the boys’ antics, smile never leaving your face, your knee brushing against Yoongi’s more times than you could count.

Yoongi gallantly walked you back to your own apartment door in the building after you hugged all of the members goodbye, thanking them for dinner. Hobi held you for an extra second longer than the rest, seeming to want to move on from the tense conversation the two of you had earlier. Not that you could blame him for being protective of his best friend and brother.

You and Yoongi stood in front of the open apartment door, and you were trying to figure out how to say goodnight to him. It was late, and the two of you had had an inordinately long day, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to say goodbye to him just yet.

Yoongi beat you to it.

“I’m glad you were able to come to dinner tonight,” Yoongi started. “I know that you’d probably rather be at home instead of having to spend the next couple of nights here though.”

“It’s okay, it’s not so bad,” you caved.

“No?” Yoongi took a step forward, his presence engulfing you. “And why is that?”

He reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You felt your knees start to buckle before you caught yourself. He leaned into you, his breath fanning out across your lips. Your eyes fluttered at the feeling. He was mere inches away from connecting his lips to yours.

“You,” you whispered. You waited, expecting to feel his lips on yours, but he pulled back at the last second.

“I should warn you, Y/N–if we start this again, I’m not letting you go. Not this time.”

The fear of being featured on the Twitter trending page and having your picture splashed on magazine covers seemed to take over your mind at the implication of his words. You decided to shove them aside, focusing instead on the man who occupied your thoughts for the past year.

“Then don’t,” you finally said. “Don’t let me go.”

His lips connected with yours, hands finding purchase on your hips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers slipping into his soft, dark hair. He walked you backward into the apartment, closing the door behind him. Once you heard the click of the door, you knew you had solidified your choice.

You chose him.

Part 4 // Part 6

---

Taglist: @loveyoongles @agustd-2020 @delacyrose224 @sunshinejunghoseokie @jinsearthh @alpacaparkaseok @sheebaba @diamonddia-mond @dearyoongii @tarahardcore @kawaiiixchan

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#bts fluff #bts angst #bts fic #run away to you fic #bts fanfiction #bts series #min yoongi #bts yoongi #bts suga #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #suga #suga x reader #sugar x y/n #bts au fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #suga fluff #suga angst

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shini--chan · 3 years

Note

I have an idea! What would Allies do after finding out that their s/o have (another) stalker? It can be another yandere, a creep, ex, jealous coworker with bad intentions or even a serial killer.

And a good idea it is, my dear anon.

Yandere Allies – Feindling America

You were already fast asleep, snoozing away under the covers in your shared bedroom. He, on the other hand, was still wide awake and had decided to settle down in the living room to do some light reading. His insomnia was due to the usual reasons – too much caffeine, too much stress, too much curiosity to just let the day finish.

And because he was worried, intently, about you. There was somebody else trying to stick their grubby fingers in your shared life, and pry you apart. That was something he was absolutely sure off. After living so long, and becoming paranoid due to his position on the global stage, he knew very well when he was being watched.

There was something after you in particular, he didn’t like it.

Out of his peripheral vision, he caught sight of somebody moving in the bushes. A spike of adrenaline shot through his body, and for a moment he was tempted to storm about side and give that creep a hook. Yet a better idea came to mind – first to fire a warning shot.

He net his book aside and sauntered to one of the glass door to the balcony and gave the pane a few sharp knocks. It was enough to catch their attention. It was almost comical how the figure froze, and the hood swivelled in his direction. Alfred couldn’t identify them in any capacity – they wore non-script jeans and a grey hoodie along with a pair of gloves. But this was about digging up the war axe.

Grinning, he flipped the bird at them, and then proceeded to draw a thin line across his throat in an unmistakable message.

Alfred would see this as a chance to play hero. He would finally be able to prove to you how capable he is at protecting you, how attentive he would be when it would water down to your safety. Of course, he would make sure there would be a lot he wouldn’t catch wind off – it would be the instances where he would come off as an evil master mind or as a control freak that he would skilfully hide from you.

He might or might not elect to torture the fool that would be stalking you. For him, waterboarding that creep would be a method of stress relief. It would also drive home the point that nobody should dare try to get between him and his sweetie.

Canada

Besides you, your phone beeped for what must have been the twelfth time in the span of one minute. You sobbed harder and buried your face in his chest. Matthew calmly stroked your back, making quiet soothing noises as he held you close.

“(Ex) will have to leave you be someday. This can’t go on forever. One day that jerk will have to accept that you’re gone for good”, he told quietly, while cautiously shifting his position to a more comfortable one.

You were both on the backseat of his car, having sought sanctuary there after you started panicking upon seeing the messages. All the memories had started to overwhelm you, and you had gripped his arm as if it was the only thing that was preventing you from drowning.

“No, that won’t be the case. Before I met you, I tried to leave so often only to be lured back into it. It was only because I met you that I haven’t gone back”, you cried, gazing up at him with a tear-stricken face.

“Shh, I will think of something. There shall be hell to pay.”

Matthew would be concerned about your wellbeing first and foremost. He would cater to you, cuddle with you, sooth you. But don’t think that would mean he would go easy on you should you step out of line and try to flee from him. When he would say he would never let your ex take you back, he would be indirectly saying he would never allow you to leave him.

Naturally, he would be careful and avoid any explicit rhetoric stating that your place in the world is at his side, but the message would be there, hidden between the lines.

With the legal sway he would hold, he would easily have your ex punished in some capacity. This could range from a fine to a restrain order to spending some time in jail.

China

A scream pierced the silence of the night, followed by a yell as the attacker was swept off his feet. Yao didn’t hesitate to continue beating the culprit up, even though he was on the ground.

After all, this was a man that had just been a few milliseconds away from dragging you away and murdering you, after doing unspeakable things to you, things that couldn’t be lightly talked about in any context.

“So, you’re the vermin that has been butchering people left and right for the past four months. You’re just as disgusting as I expected”, Yao commented as he brought his foot down on his back in a harsh stamp.

You had taken seat on a tree stump that was standing by. The near death experience and the fight going on in front of you had utterly rattled you. You were numbly staring at the scene playing out, heads in your hands, whole body trembling and eyes wide blown.

He kicked the killer in the side and was rewarded was a grunt and a hiss: “And I’ll fucking kill you too.”

“Sure you will”, Yao drawled sarcastically and pressed the criminals head into the dirt. “Get used to the taste of it.”

Contrary to expectations, Yao would approach the situation of serial killer being after you calmy. Not because he wouldn’t care about you, but rather because he would be far to old to be surprised by such a – in his eyes – trivial thing. And because he would know that letting himself drown in anger or panic would just result in him making grave mistakes – ie. losing you.

Nevertheless, he would never be far off, lurking behind corners, just out of sight of you and the murderer. He would also scoure your online activity, searching for any suspicious doings from other users. Furthermore he would use the opportunity to learn more about you and your strengths and weaknesses.

England

“Ah, ah, ah. Keep your dirty paws off that”, Arthur chided Jane and firmly grabbed Jane by the ear, harshly tugging there. It wasn’t the most humane treatment of a mortal, that England knew very well. However, he was in a sour mood, your infuriating co-worker being one of the contributing factors to it. Besides, he hadn’t made it one of his life maximas to be nice.

“You dare”, she hissed. When he gave another sharp tug, she yelped and dropped your phone, showing one of your social media profiles. Jane Smithers was persistent, he would have to give her that. Yet that would just be her downfall because she had decided to use that trait to try to ruin your life.

“Oh yes I dare. I dare to not tolerate your disgusting behaviour. Between you and me, we’re going to have a very long talk about your morals.”

She snorted and grabbed his hand.

“I could sue you for sexual harassment. We’ll see if you’ll still be laughing then.”

Oh, he had expected such a threat to come from such a vile person as her. He chuckled lowly – did she really think she could best him when it came to anything.

“And then spend some time in the nick for lying to judge and jury. Don’t think you’d be able to weasel your way out of this. I’m the one here that can have your framed and believe me, I could get you a bloody life sentence.”

She stared at him, uncomprehending, before realisation dawned and she let out a harsh laugh.

“So that is how (l/n) did it. Slept the way to the top.”

“No. (Y/n) has talent, impeccable talent. So unlike you, my dearest never had to resort to the methods you were so kind to mentioned.”

Arthur would see it as his duty to protect you – your physical & mental wellbeing as well as your reputation. So of course he would go after any jealous co-worker that would try to ruin you to any extent. And as mentioned in the snippet above, he wouldn’t be exactly nice about it. Any means would do for him, as long as the risk of his machinations backfiring on him and you would be relatively low.

During the whole process, he would letting you know about everything. It would be his point of proving that the world is a horrible place and that you can only find solace in his company and attention.

France

Francis was in the kitchen when you came stumbling in, frazzled and panting as If you had just run a marathon. By the way your extremities were trembling and sweat dotted your forehead, he wouldn’t be surprised. The only question was why.

Aside from that, fear danced in your eyes, and that was the only further information he needed to know that something was wrong. Rushing forward, he scooped you in his arms, ignoring the coffee that he had been preparing, and asked you:

“What happened, ma cherie?”

Instead of answering, you leaned your head against his shoulder and wrapped your arms around his torso, taking heavy, laboured breaths, as if you were crying. That was when he realised that you were. It worried him.

Was this something that he had done? What had caused you to become so distressed? Was it something he could fix.

“You don’t have to talk about it now if you don’t want to”, he offered shakily, unsure about what he should do to cheer you up. How could he, when he didn’t know why you were in such a state?

Thankfully, you supplied him with an explanation, one that caused his concern to freeze to ice cold anger: “There is some creep following me. He grabbed my butt when I got off the bus.”

Whoever that devil was, he was going to have hell to pay,

Francis would be enraged that somebody would be so disrespectful of your boundaries and of the fact that you’re already taken. In the brief moments of his more intense bouts of fury, he might do something as rash as to track the creep down and bludgeon him with something, probably a newspaper.

However, his preferred method would be character assassination (this would work especially well if the culprit in question would have a high social status) and verbal abuse. In this case, his revenge could be long-winded and very elaborate.

Russia

The temperature of the corridor had dropped since the last time he had visited – a testimony to the bad insulation and the approaching winter. Ivan thought it did her justice. After all, she did deserve this after nearly kidnapping you.

Speaking of her, she was sitting near the bars when he approached and when she glimpsed him, she quickly scooted away. Clever; she had learned from what had occurred the last time.

“Come to taunt me again?”, she seethed, curling into a tight, haggard ball of fury. Understandable in her case, however he wouldn’t shed any tears or have any sleepless nights.

“As is customary. I have to elevate your boredom somehow”, he confirmed, grabbing a chair and seating himself opposite her.

She stared at the door at the end of the passage, hungerly tracing it and searching the shadows for any sign of you. Ivan derived pleasure from mocking her: “How foolish are to think I would have brought my lover with me? I didn’t the last few times so why should it any different now?”

“You’re so very attached to (y/n), so I had my hopes.”

“Then I’ll have to forever dash them. That I owe you.”

She snarled at this; face twisted to a nasty frown.

“You know, you and I aren’t so different. So it is even more hypocritical of you to claim the moral high ground. Does (y/n) know even half of the things you’ve done in the name of your love?”

“I detest the comparison. I walk free while you rot in solitude, unloved and unwanted. While you have done everything wrong, I have done what was right where it counted most. You go very far by suggesting anything else.”

Russia would be the one to act the most intense of all the allies. He would have had people that were dear to him ripped away from him in the past, so he invest a lot of energy in insuring that wouldn’t happen to you and him.

That would mean he would go up to 11 in this case. As in, he would either kill this person and dissolve their body in acid or feed it to the pigs. Or he would leave this other yandere to rot somewhere after having dragged them before court for a very showy trail to break their spirit.

#yandere hetalia #yandere allies #yandere america #yandere england #yandere russia #yandere canada #yandere china #yandere france

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marsbutterfly · 3 years

Text

Skyfall

Summary: When you are hired to kill the most dangerous mafia boss, things get a little complicated.

Wattpad Version! | AO3 Version!

|◁ II ▷|

“This is the end

Hold your breath and count to ten

Feel the Earth move and then

Hear my heart burst again”

7:34pm

The clock on your wrist tics quietly but in the silent room, it nearly sounds like bombs being dropped from above. Not a word is exchanged between you and the man sitting across the room but you know exactly what he wants.

In his hand rests a dark colored suitcase, you can barely tell until the light hits his belt ever so gently but you finally see the gun he’s been carrying.

You take a deep breath, getting up for your seat. The sound of your heels clicking on the floor fills the atmosphere as you walk towards him, the smirk on his lips is undeniable and you don’t understand what he has to be smiling about.

He stands up a second after you and walks in your direction, bumping against you and dropping his suitcase and the papers in his hand. In response, you throw on the floor the suitcase you once held.

The man apologizes profoundly as you help him collect the papers on the floor. You say over and over that it is ok, while all the curious eyes in the room land on you. As you stand up, you hand him the suitcase you once had in your hand and he nods, thanking you for the help and apologizing one last time.

You begin to make your way back to your car, the smirk on his lips still engraved in your brain as a chill travels down your spine. “Why was he smiling?” You ask yourself not wanting to admit it but you are a bit scared of knowing the answer.

Though once you open the suitcase, you understand why. Inside, rests the pictures and information of your next target, the millionaire leader of an enemy gang. Though you don’t enjoy taking sides, you’ve been paid a large amount of money to take her out, more than you have ever made.

The war between these two gangs has been going on for the longest time and you have killed enough people on both sides to earn a fair amount of enemies, but this time you couldn’t help but feel a sinking hole opening in your heart.

Hanji Zoe has always been the deadliest member of the underground group. Her kill count is even higher than yours, at least 500+ heads under her belt. They say her torture methods surpass even the ones they use in hell.

She’s known as the Devil herself.

“For this is the end

I've drowned and dreamt this moment

So overdue, I owe them

Swept away, I'm stolen”

8:15pm

Your keys unlock the heavy doors of your house and somehow the marble floors feel colder than ever. Your shoes rest in their designated spot by the coat holder and you throw the suitcase on the couch.

Two cups rest on the counter near the bar area inside your home. One of them contains what you assume is whisky, due to the color and the amount of ice in the cup, it has always been her favorite after a work day.

The lipstick marks are fresh meaning she has just now gotten home. Upon paying closer attention, you realize the shower is on and steam is coming out of the bathroom. You think about joining her but ultimately decide to have a drink first, trying to forget about your next target.

Gently, you take two rocks of ice and place them in the clean cup specifically placed out for you. Pouring yourself a single shot of whisky, you walk towards the balcony feeling as the cold air of the night hits your face.

You knew this day would come but you hoped it would take longer.

Deep in your own thoughts, you don’t realize the water has been turned off in the bathroom and wet footsteps approach your body.

It’s not until her wet arms wrap around your black dress that you realize you are no longer alone. Her face is buried in your back and you can see steam leaving her arms as the hair on her skin stands up.

The tattoo of your initials on her hand still brings butterflies to your stomach. The memory of the night she got it is still one of your favorite moments you spent together, especially since it was after your first date and she told you she knew you were the one.

“I missed you.” She says, placing a kiss on your skin. You can feel as her breasts are pressed against you and a gasp leaves your body.

“I missed you too.” You reply, a disobedient tear rolling down your face as you chug the contents of the cup in your hand.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, placing her hand on your waist as she turns your body around so you can face her. She is a few inches taller, nothing too extreme but enough to make you look up at her gently.

Her thumb brushes the tear on your cheek before rubbing it above your lips. You take a deep breath, gathering the courage to tell her the news you just received.

“You are my next target.” You say and Hanji nods, a sad smirk on her lips.

“Let the sky fall

When it crumbles

We will stand tall

Face it all together”

9:00pm

The brush goes through her hair with ease for the first time, as if she took care of the tangles in the shower already knowing what the news you were bringing would be. After shower moments were the ones where Hanji was the most vulnerable.

She would simply close her eyes and appreciate the attention she’s been given as she fades in the echo of your voice. You hum a melody quietly, Hanji’s favorite song in the hopes to bring her any comfort at all.

Your tears drip down your nose onto her scalp as you put her hair in a ponytail, attempting to help her get ready for the party she will be attending in an hour. At the highest floor of the second tallest building in the entire city.

“How are you going to do it?” She asks, lighting a cigarette and blowing the smoke up in the air while trying to make rings out of it. You giggle, touching her shoulders before sliding your hands down her arms.

You notice the goosebumps rising on her skin and can’t help but smile at how she reacts to your touch. “Must we talk about it?”

“I need to know.” She replies and you nod, sighing heavily while finally agreeing to talk about the elephant in the room.

“I’ll be on the roof of the Paradise building. I am pretty sure they will send someone to watch me do it.” You begin, spraying the bottle of perfume around her and noticing as the drops of liquid fall on her tan skin, masking the smell of the cigarette.

“But they might not.” She says and you shrug your shoulders.

“They might not.” You say quietly.

“I wouldn’t expect any less from this city’s top 1 assassin.” She says, taking your hand in hers and planting a soft kiss on your palm, leaving behind the red mark of her deep colored lipstick.

She stands up, allowing the robe to fall to the floor and reveal her naked body. You can’t look away from the perfect shape of her breasts, the line that goes through her abdomen from a previous surgery and all of her battle scars.

“Make me yours one last time.” You say, pulling your shirt above her head as you expose yourself to her and she nods, a devious smile curling up on her lips.

You see a few old bullet wounds, some healed while others are still healing. Every single one of them tells a story about who she is and how she has lived her life but your favorite story has always been the one of how she lost her eye.

It was three years ago, the day you met. How could you ever forget?

“Let the sky fall

When it crumbles

We will stand tall

Face it all together

At Skyfall”

Since you were a teenager, you’ve been good at killing. First your shitty parents and every family member who sided with them, including your own brother and sister. Finally being able to control your life, you decided to make a living out of it.

This career put you through college where you earned a chemistry degree, learning how to mix your personal kinds of poison, some of which no one has ever even heard of which makes it hard for the police to find who was responsible for it.

At first, you would go for basic targets: rapists, animal abusers, anyone who dared hurt another soul but word got out of how excellent and quick you were at your job and your number of clients tripled and your name was in everyone’s mouth.

One day, you got a call from a blocked russian number. A smile creeped on your lips as you heard a familiar voice over the phone, Erwin Smith. The man who gave you a chance to grow in this life and made you who you are today, your mentor.

“Y/N, I’m dying.” He says, his voice is faint and you notice his life force is fading away.

“I can tell.” You reply trying to lighten the mood and he laughs.

“Will you still work for the next boss?” He asks, coughing out a liquid which you could only assume was blood.

“If that is your dying wish.” You respond and he hums in agreement over the phone, “Then yes.”

Later that week, two men showed up to your house to escort you to Erwin’s funeral. The rain poured over his coffin, hiding away the tears of those who loved him.

Surrounded by at least five men sat a woman in a black coat, her eyes looking in your direction as she took the cigarette to her lips. The tattoos on her leg on display for anyone to see, you could’ve sworn she was silently flirting with you.

And in a moment of weakness, a car drove by shooting up the place completely. Of course they were received with a buffet of bullets as well, but nearly a third of the people around the casket were now dead.

As a bullet makes its way towards you, the brunette with danger in her eyes rushes forward to protect you only to receive the bullet with a glass platter. Needless to say, an uncountable amount of shards found their way into her eyeball.

While she bled in your arms, you tried to make sure she remained awake.

“What’s your name?” You ask and she smiles, bringing your hand towards her lips and licking your thumb with a palpable sexual energy.

“Hanji. Hanji Zoe.” She replied, “The new boss.”

“Skyfall is where we start

A thousand miles and poles apart

Where worlds collide and days are dark

You may have my number, you can take my name

But you'll never have my heart”

10:05pm

Once you are finished redoing Hanji’s hair, she stares at the closet before finally picking out a blood colored suit. No shirt underneath, she places the blazer right above her nipples, only enough to cover them while allowing the rest of her breasts to be exposed.

You on the other hand plan to dress yourself in a completely black outfit hoping to blend into the darkness of the night. Luck was on your side for there were no stars to brighten the sky, allowing you to take complete cover.

As far as you know, nobody is aware of your relationship with Hanji, not even her subordinates. Keeping business away from your private life has always been a priority, even before you committed your first paid killing.

She places a final kiss on your hands and one of your lips, though it does not feel like a goodbye and you sadly accept any kind of comfort you can find.

When her car is out of view, you decide to go up and take a shower by yourself. You wanted to decline this job, to throw everything away: your reputation, the money and simply run away with Hanji to a place where you could live your lives.

But you can’t. Before even knowing who your targets are, you are always made to sign a consent form and if broken, it would cost you your life.

The warm water hits your face and you can still smell Hanji’s strawberry shampoo in the air mixed with the fading smoke of her cigarettes. You begin to remember every shower you spent together, every kiss you shared at the most exquisite places around the world.

Hanji always knew how to make you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Eventually, you can no longer if the water streaming down your face comes from the shower or your tears.

As you finish your shower, you begin to get ready. The black outfit had never been colder and the unsettling feeling at the pit of your stomach still remains. While putting a mask above your face, you look at your rifle.

It has your initials and Hanji’s secretly carved on the side and on the other it has the date you started dating. A good luck charm, as she liked to call it.

Tonight will be a fucking awful night.

“Let the sky fall (let the sky fall)

When it crumbles (when it crumbles)

We will stand tall (we will stand tall)

Face it all together

At Skyfall”

1:53am

Hours have passed since you've been sitting at the top of this building by yourself, looking through the binoculars at the party happening not too far away. In the end, they decided not to send anyone to watch over your shoulder as you do your job.

The richest and most powerful people in town were all attending and, even though they wore masks, you could still tell exactly who they were. The years of analyzing and recognizing targets from afar has given you the extraordinary ability to identify covered faces.

By the bar, you see her as she rests her arm on the glass top. She looks beautiful. Her whiskey brown eyes match the liquid in her cup as the black mask covers her features. For a second, you could’ve sworn she looked directly at you.

The instructions were clear: at 2am, a single bullet should be shot directly to her head, killing her instantly. So you position your gun, looking through the lense as Hanji disappears in the crowd for a bit before returning to her usual spot.

You sigh, stopping the tears that attempt to cloud your vision. Your finger slowly moves towards the trigger, as if time itself is desperately trying to stop you from killing your loved one, but it doesn’t matter. No one could stop you now.

Counting the seconds, you make sure the shot to her head is clear and you pray she won’t suffer at all. “Goodbye, my love.”

Time nearly stops once you pull the trigger. You watch closely as the bullet goes through her brain and blood splatters across the clear counter causing every person in the room to desperately run for their lives, not knowing they are all safe.

Only one man stands in the room and he raises his glass at you for he is the only one who knows no more shots will be fired. The asshole who hired you to kill the love of your life. Fucking Zeke Yeager.

With every ounce of your body, you decide that killing him isn’t worth it. He deserves to live to suffer in the future.

You bring your body back up, beginning to disassemble your rifle. It takes you less than a minute to be on your way and you can hear as police sirens approach the building in front of you.

“Where you go, I go

What you see, I see

I know I'd never be me

Without the security

Of your loving arms

Keeping me from harm

Put your hand in my hand

And we'll stand”

Finally getting back to your house, you throw the bag containing the gun on the couch before plopping your body right beside it, a long sigh escaping your lips.

Your eyes then notice the packed bags, all ready to leave as soon as possible. The clicking of heels comes from the other side of the house and you smirk, rushing your thumb through your lips.

“I feel bad for the lady you hired to die in your place.” You say, turning around and propping your chin on the back of the couch.

“Would you prefer if I had died in her place?” Hanji asks, rushing her hand through her freshly shaved head in an attempt to get rid of any hairs that still remain attached to her.

“Of course not, love.” You reply, walking towards her before taking the glass of wine from her free hand.

“Hanji Zoe is dead and the witness to it is Zeke Yeager himself.” She says, a devious smile on her lips.

You can’t help but link your mouth with hers, tasting the delightful mixture of alcohols she has had tonight. Her hands travel through your body, exploring every inch of your skin before gently brushing against your inner thigh.

You gasp gently, nearly melting in response to her actions. God knows you want to melt but you don’t have time.

“It’s 4:25am, the plane leaves in 35 minutes so we should go.” She says and you nod.

You grab one of the packed bags plus your rifle and she grabs the rest before extending her hand to you, hoping to walk away from this life with you by her side but not before staging your own kidnapping and death, everything so no one would ever look for either of you.

Once done with arrangements, she smiles.

“So where are we going to make our new home?” You ask.

“My home is wherever you are.” She replies and you feel your cheeks getting warm before she continues, “But I was planning the Carribeans.”

“Fuck yes.” Is all you say and she laughs, squeezing your hand as you both say goodbye to the apartment you’ve shared for years. Leaving behind a life of danger to live together in the house of your dreams, far away from all the negativity.

Just you and Hanji. And maybe a few cats and dogs along the way.

“Let the sky fall (let the sky fall)

When it crumbles (when it crumbles)

We will stand tall (we will stand tall)

Face it all together

At Skyfall”

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