#unless you meant fluff like fur | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherry-pop-elf · 4 months

Text

Unleashed

Bill Weasley x Reader

You decided to be a good partner and see your boyfriend Bill. You heard he was on vacation from Gringotts, and knew he would be at the beach side house. There was just one problem. The Goblins give him those vacations for more than just keeping his mental health strong. He had one at the end of every month, and the day you arrived was when the moon was out

18+, Dubious Consent ((Not really but respect people who aren’t into that!)) Breeding, Gender Neutral Anatomy Scratching, Biting, blood play, overstimulation uncanny valley, werewolf stuff in general, after care, disabled talk, crying, fluff

Commissions Open

“Oh Billy~!” You sung, as you stepped out of the fire place. You were so excited. Your boyfriend was on vacation, and that meant you could hound him with kisses and cuddles. As a Curse Breaker, he needed to make sure his mental health was strong and in check. Unless the curses consume him. That meant the Goblins made sure he got plenty of vacation days. Even a week off at the end of every month!

“Come on out you big ole dog. I know you are here.” You giggle, as you set your bag on the couch. Now where did your boyfriend go? You would hurry to the porch of the house. Leaning over the railing, and admiring the beautiful view. It was just stunning. The salt air against your skin, the cool water under the stars, oh it was like out of a fairy tale. Made you understand why he loved the beach so much.

“Oh to live here.” You sighed, as you looked to the sky. Admiring the clouds, as they rolled by. As they moved, you furrowed your brow. Was the moon full? You squinted, as you leaned over the railing more. Trying so hard to get a better view. As you did, there would suddenly be a warm presence behind you.

“There’s my Habibi.” You would hear, growled into your ear, as hands would grab at the railing. You were pinned against it, as you saw the clouds shift. The moon was full, and glimmering so vividly. Right against the water, and causing the world to be casted in a nearly blue glow. It’s a full moon, and your boyfriend had you pinned.

“Way to go, dumbass-“ You muttered to yourself. William wasn’t a real werewolf. Given his curse breaking job, he held an almost immunity of sorts. He wasn’t like his uncle Lupin. He didn’t have a proper transformation. He did have little habits, like eating raw meat. Just small things. He did get paranoid though. Always avoiding everyone when the moon was full. Seems like tonight will be a night to test some theories.

“You smell so good-“ He sighed, as he would nuzzle his scared up nose into your neck. His body grinding into yours, as he kept you trapped. You swore his skin seemed paler than normal, from looking at his hands. You did your best to turn your head, and his normally straight hair was in thick waves. As if fur that was dense around him. The way his eyes stared into you. Well, eye.

After his attack from Greyback, he lost a large amount of his face. Leaving his teeth exposed, and missing an eye. One that Uncle Moody replaced with one of his old ones. So the two brown eyes never quite matched. You didn’t find him ugly for having one eye, missing an eye lip, exposed teeth, or even how the scars cut into his hair line. You weren’t there just for his looks. He’s your Bill. Seems tonight you’ll be his trophy.

“You taste so good-“ He added on, as he ran his tongue across your neck. The way his working eye’s pupil was blown out. As if on some kind of drug, and you were the supplier. His body was just burning up so badly, as he held you tightly. That’s when it registered he was naked. You’ve seen such many times before, but now felt so different. Despite being the werewolf, this was still a vulnerable position he was in.

“You in there, Billy?” You asked, but not in fear. He was clearly showing signs you were mated, and he couldn’t infect you from the fact he wasn’t properly turned. You were never in real danger, and you knew this was beyond his control anyhow. You knew this would be something you would deal with. Every time the full moon was close, he always got more primal anyway. You were prepared, and never afraid. Seemed like he could smell your lack of fear, and that had him excited.

“Hm-?” He hardly recognized you were talking at all, as he was just grinding his crotch on your ass. Like the dog in heat that he was. “That answered that-“ You muttered, as you looked around. It was in a private area, sure, but you much rather no risk someone thinking you were being assaulted.

“Come here boy-! Come on-!” You whistled, as you quickly ducked under his arms. Just narrowly slipping out, and leaving him confused on where you went. He was quick to turn around, and watched as you started to take your top off. A means to lure him back into the house. Seemed to work beautifully, as he was quick to hurry back inside. Nearly tackling you down.

“WOAH WOAH-!” Hardly had another thought, before he was tearing your clothes off like paper. Did his nails get longer? You swore you could feel thin lines over your body already. Had a sting, but you knew he wasn’t trying to actually hurt you. It was just caught in the cross fire.

“Oh you are fiesty-“ You admit, as he was just devouring you. His tongue tracing over your chest, and drinking you in. You wondered if he was only acting like this because you were a couple. That because his mate showed up he went feral. You won’t lie, that made you feel really special. That even the wolf in his head was madly in love with you. Had you blushing more then the way his tongue felt so rough on your skin.

“I need you, so badly-“ He was panting already, as he was spreading your legs wide. You covered your mouth, as you looked up to him. You swore he looked like a god. The way the moon was casting around him, like some kind of wisp outline. The way the stars sparkled through his burning hair. Looking like the gods he’s talked about, when he used to live in Egypt. You were falling in love all over again.

“All mine. You are all mine.” He repeated, as his nails dug into your ankles. As if to mark you from head to toe. You were soon feeling the burn in your thighs, as he forced your legs towards you. Maybe taking up yoga with Luna was a smart idea, because wow was this pulling muscles you didn’t even know you had.

“All yours. I’m all yours, big boy.” You nodded, as that made your boyfriend give an eerie sight. With only half his face working, it made all his features so much more strange. How his smile was curled so high, and teeth so sharp. The way his working pupil was staring through you, as drool was dripping out of his exposed teeth. He was starving for you, and it was almost easy to forget there was a human inside of that devilish grin.

“And never forget it, Habibi.” He warned, before you suddenly felt his cock slam inside of you. It burned, and stretched you wide. Your head was spinning, as he was already snapping his hips into yours. Not leaving any room to breathe, as he had to make sure he breed you. If there wasn’t a way to knock you up, he’s gonna try anyway. The wolf in him didn’t care if it was possible or not. He just had to claim.

“Oh William-!” You moaned, as your fingers pulled at the carpet under you. Feeling how your legs were soon resting on his shoulders, as his own hands were tearing at the fur on the ground. Leaving deep lashes, as if the human in him was trying to make sure you weren’t in its war path. Bill was still in there, and you knew he was fighting. Maybe he shouldn’t.

“B-Billy….It’s ok-“ You begin, as you reached a hand up to his face. “I like this….I l-like it a lot.” You smiled, as you swore you saw something flicker in his working eye. Something human again. “Let it happen. Let go. I’ll be ok.” You hushed, as you traced his scars with your thumb. To try and let him finally let go. He’s constantly been holding back. He’s never been allowed to not be ok. He’s the eldest brother. He’s had to much weight on his shoulders. He deserves to let loose.

“Habibi….” His voice trailed, before you forced him to kiss you. To truly let him know you’ll be ok. Time seems to freeze, before he let himself go. He returned the kiss, before his claws were firm on your thighs. Sinking into the flesh, and leaving red lines. You whined, but were quickly cut off by the sharp smack of your hips.

“Fuck fuck fuck-“ You couldn’t stop yourself from whimpering, as he was soon sinking his teeth into your neck. You weren’t dreaming it, his teeth did get sharper. He was truly treating you like a chew toy, and you didn’t mind. Your Billy was always so anxious about hurting you, but now he finally had an excuse to let go. You love his gentle side, but getting frisky is always adored.

“Oh William-“ You moaned his name, as he was fucking you into the floor. You swore he would break through, with how rough he was being. Might break your back, but you didn’t care. You were loving the mixture of pain and pleasure. How he would rub your nerves just right, whenever he bit into you to deep. As if his human half was fighting his wolf half.

“AH-! WILLIAM-!” Your head was thrown back, as you were quick to climax. Your body shaking, but he wasn’t stopping. He wasn’t going to stop until he was satisfied. How long would it take for him to feel release? You didn’t know. You just knew you were sobbing, as your body was trembling at the next climax already building up.

You didn’t know how many times you came, but it was all becoming a blur. Was just blood, sweat, and tears. And you were loving it. Just nothing but meat to satisfy. The bliss of turning your brain off, and just be nothing but owned by your lover. To be covered in markings, and showing anyone who saw you that you were off the market.

What finally brought you back to reality was the howl. He out right howled. You could feel your insides being pumped so full of his seed. You swore you came again from it. His voice was just echoing, as he had claimed you. Inside, and out. Was such a wonderful warmth. You felt so satisfied with it. Was making you fall asleep so peacefully. All to the nursing licks of your boyfriend.

You swore you hadn’t slept that good in ages. It was a hard sleep. A good long one, that had you feeling refreshed. If not for all the pains and aches in your body. That was what woke you up, compared to the summer sun light. Creeping in through the bedroom curtains. Seemed like someone tried to keep them closed, but it slipped through.

You, slowly, sat up. As you did, you could feel bandages all over you. Along with a sweet smell of flowers on the bedside table. You looked over, and saw that poor Bill was pampering you. Feeling so guilty from last night. Flowers, chocolates, sweets, little things that you enjoyed. Along with a little note.

“Sorry: William”

You chuckled, as you set the note aside. With the covers off, you looked yourself over. Every wound was patched, and you were covered in bruises and hickies. Made you a little giddy, you couldn’t lie. So many people would kill to have a werewolf boyfriend. You felt so smug, and wanted to proudly show them off. But first, William needed to be cared for.

After every full moon, he would suffer extreme muscle fatigue. His bones were literally breaking and re breaking after all. Your muscles don’t feel so good after that. Along with other issues. Chronic pain, exhaustion, and just over all trouble walking. It normally passes after a day or two. Hence why the goblins give him that week break. So he can recover. You even went as far as to pick up books about werewolves, and spoke to Uncle Lupin. You may not feel his pain, but you damn well will try and help.

“Willy-?” You called, as you were safe in a bath robe. There you found him. Barely awake, on the couch. His hair a mangled mess, and his body visibly throbbing. The muscle spasms were kicking in. Kicking in bad. You tsked, as you accioed a comb. Soon you were on the couch with him. Forcing him to sit up, and you would nurse at his hair.

“I-“ But you cut him off. “I already know what you are going to say, Mr. This is a disability. One that I know 100% about when I was going to date you. I knew what I was signing up for. I also could have very well floo my way out, or even attacked you with chains. Since you aren’t a full werewolf. We’ve been over this.” You kissed his cheek, as you would brush through his hair. A means to let him have some mercy.

“I love you. Disability or not. You just need a little extra help, now and again. That’s ok.” You reassured, as you began to braid his hair. That way it didn’t get tangled for a while. “Besides, I had fun.” You tease, as you laid on the couch. Forcing his head on your chest, as his legs would kick from the muscle spasms.

“What did I do to deserve you?” He asked, as he looked up. That big, beautiful, brown eye. So full of love. “By being you~” You reassured him, as you would rub over his shoulder. He was soon cuddling into you, as you both shared a lazy morning.

Least now you both knew what to do together next full moon. Have a few potions, a med kit, with a bottle of wine. That’s a date night for you two. Unconventional? Yes. Just right for you two? Damn right. He’s a Weasley. You really expected things to be normal? Normals boring anyway.

101 notes · View notes

pedros-immaculate-vibes · 6 months

Text

A Peaceful Elf

Part I

Halsin/Tav fanfic (slow burn, fluff, angst)

“You can’t truly call yourself ‘peaceful’ unless you’re capable of great violence; if you’re not capable of violence you’re not peaceful, you’re harmless.”

A peaceful elf, he thought to himself.

*Plimk* a pebble impacted his fur.

I’ve endeavored to be peaceful, bring stability and guidance to the grove.

*Plimk*

I’ve tried to protect my people since the shadows took my predecessor. I’ve tried to be fair and protect the refugees, all while many thought my actions unwise, at best.

*Plimk*

He sat there, near a pile of crumbled temple stones, staring at the bones of an unfortunate cell occupant. Through the bars beyond, he could see the two worgs pacing as they watched him from an adjacent cell. The smell of rot, stale death, and staler ale would have been more revolting if demise didn’t seem as imminent.

And I tried to discover more about a new threat, only to be caught by these zealots.

*Plimk* *Plunk* *Shatter*

A small stone missed him and broke pottery near his leg. The noise was immediately followed by a goblin child mocking his friend’s aim.

“How’d you miss its arse, idjit? The bloomin’ thing’s the size of ya mum.”

Halsin turned his ursine head toward the bars in frustration. I must get back. I can’t end here. Not yet. Not until I warn—

“Hey, you lot, make sure he’s noice an’ tender for later. I can’t remembah the lahst time I ‘ad a thick bit o’ bear.” The older goblin sneered at Halsin while speaking to the two brats, new stones in their hands.

His brewing concern paused and redirected onto a more pleasant thought as he bared his teeth back. When I am free, she’ll be the first corpse.

Between the pebbles targeted at his nose, the worgs low and hungry snarls, and the drunken carousing of the zealots, Halsin heard the dungeon entrance creak open. Bracing for the scent of another goblin, or worse, he cocked his head to one side in surprise. The new scent belonged to someone who smelled like the Green and fragrant air he had been surrounded by not more than a few days ago. Slicked with the coppery tang of fresh blood.

They came into view: one slight of build and in furs, another pale one in leather armor (he smelled lightly of bergamot), one with purple robes and a staff, and the last with black hair and blacker symbols on her armor. What in the hells—

The one in fur trotted confidently down the stone steps, immediately locking eyes with Halsin, a dark look of anger and—something else, pity perhaps?—simmering across her face.

*Plimk*

Another stone hit him, this time square in the eye. Rage bellowed from his chest and he charged the bars, unsure what these newcomers meant to do, but quite sure that he was finished with the brats’ antics.

“See? It squealed!” The first brat grinned. “Hit it again!” Cheered the other.

Sylvanus, help me in my moment of need. I beg of you, prayed the druid.

“Keep yer ‘and steady, Three,” croaked the older goblin.

“What the hells are you doing?” The one in furs demanded, approaching the spectacle.

“We’re juicin’ it up,” crowed the older goblin. “The beast came in ‘ere wit those robbers. Killed Dink—and Mince, too. Boss’ thinkin’ of servin’ it to the worgs.”

The one in furs’ eyes darkened at this. Her focus slid to Halsin, catching him a bit off guard as she growled directly to him, “don’t worry, we’re here to help.” Her face snapped back to the goblin, eyes glowing and a menacing grin seeping across her face from ear to ear.“How about a taste of your own medicine?”

This might be my only chance, the bear thought. Hells, what have I got to lose?

The druid mustered every gram of strength he had and hurled his weight onto the prison bars, shattering the masonry around them and causing the the rusty iron to fall loose in one fell motion. A wave of satisfaction ignited in him when the bars flattened the older goblin beneath his paws.

A bit of freedom. Now, time to fight for a bit more.

The pale one shot a goblin while the one in furs shifted into—oh, that’s a pleasant surprise—a giant spider, shooting webs onto the suddenly free worgs. Halsin joined her in gutting the lupine beasts, catching a goblin in his teeth along the way. The robed one seemed to cast a grease spell while the stiff-lipped one with ebony hair set it alight by shooting down one of the lit ceiling fixtures. The smell of grease and flaming goblin filled Halsin’s nose, and as soon as the fight had started, it seemed to end.

Relief flushed over him as he shifted back into an elf and turned to his new companions.

“Pardon the viscera, one should cherish all of nature’s bounty, but goblin guts are quite far down the list”

—

Tav formed back into her usual half-elf appearance, barely able to stop herself from gawking.

Are you fucking kidding me. THIS is the arch druid everyone kept telling me about? Calm, keep calm, watch what kind of face you’re making, listen to what he’s saying, don’t get distracted—

By the glistening biceps or those eyes—

Oh my gods his eyes, are they green? What even are—

SHIT, what did he just say?

Astarion, clearly seeing you at a loss for words, chimed in with “She’s most likely a friend of nature, and surely a lunatic, so how about a bit of both, if we’re being honest?”

A rumbling chuckle seemed to echo through him—my gods how much of him is there—as he brushed off the response with a “Fair enough.”

A bit more conversation swept by, obviously important information that you had a hard time absorbing due to, ahem, circumstances, but the gist was not lost on you. Kill the three leaders. Get the bear home. You could handle that.

“I can help you, if you’d like. But, please know, I won’t be able to keep my bear-form at bay. If you plan on subtlety, my company may not work in your favor.”

Covert and planned action had always been your strength, so that mixed with the concern for the bear—er, druid’s wellbeing would probably put you at a disadvantage.

“Please stay here, for now,” you found yourself tentatively saying.

The arch druid bowed with a smile, holding your eyes as he leaned down. “Then I will wait here.” A look of concern filtered across his eyes. “But please, hurry. Each minute could mean the safety of another innocent.”

“Of course, Arch Druid. I’ll see you soon.” I’ll see you soon?? THAT seemed a little familiar for a first mee—

“Please, I cannot have my savior address me by my title. Call me Halsin,” with a cheeky grin.

Your breath hitched and heat crept up your back. “Of course. See you soon…Halsin.” With that, you mustered whatever was left of your self-respect and turned on your heels away from the polite behemoth. Have to focus. HAVE to focus. Honestly, nothing outside this pen could be as—as—

What was the word you were looking for? Surprising? Shocking? Exciting? No, not exciting…

“My, my, Gale, did you cast silence on our dear Tav right before she spoke to that hulking druid? She seemed awfully quiet for a bit there. Hmm, there MUST have been some magical occurrence to keep her from—”

“Astarion, I promise you, fashioning a spike in this hovel would not be a challenge,” you growled under you breath, trying to keep your voice low enough for your companions and ONLY your companions to hear.

The pale elf threw up his palms, “I’m just impressed our dear wizard here can cast silence so thoroughly after a battle but remain stuck within a waypoint.” He slyly grinned at you. “Whatever else could I mean, my dear?”

“While I do appreciate your faith in my many varied abilities, I have temporarily, um, forgotten the silence spell,” admitted a somewhat crest-fallen Gale. “Rest assured, that will be remedied as soon as I find a scroll or tome with it,” he assured you. “After all, what’s a wizard without his spells!”

“Indeed,” crooned Shadowheart, eyeing the wizard with a barely perceptible smirk.

You put your hand on your forehead, eyes closed, and comforted yourself with the thought of the imminent massacre ahead. You knew violence and cunning, unnervingly so. Remaining unflustered with your new companions, however, seemed to escape you.

—

Halsin huffed a chuckle as the ragtag group of saviors left the dungeon. How they got this far, he was not sure. He hoped they would return as much in one piece as possible, and in a state of mind for conversing; there was much to discuss and the one in the furs seemed particularly dazed after freeing him. What did that pale, fragrant one call her?

Tav.

…Tav.

Unassuming, and yet quite efficient. Albeit not verbose.

He suddenly remembered why he had wanted to get to the temple: the Selunite outpost. Searching for signs or mentions of it in the worg pens took his mind off of you for a time, but his mind flitted back to your pale green eyes. The way your face looked, flushed from battle while talking to him. Perhaps, he could strike up a conversation regarding druidic theology or spell work once everything was sorted.

If it would get sorted. He was reminded of the gravity he placed in your hands while he paced the dungeon. But then again, you’d already managed to answer his prayers once that day.

42 notes · View notes

incorrectmarvelquotesss · 7 months

Text

— frozen hearts: epilogue —

Warnings: strong language, fluff, angst, panic attack, mentions of past abusive relationships, sexual themes (nothing graphic)

Word Count: ~10k

A/N: We’re officially officially at the end of the series. If anyone wants to talk about it (I want to talk about it), please send in asks and messages. Just so we’re clear this is taking place a year after the start of the series. It also probably has a few typos, so please let me know where they are so I can fix them! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcome! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Join My Taglist ||

December 21st

“We’re going to be late!” You called out, voice echoing through the somewhat empty apartment. The suitcases had already been placed inside the car, three duffel bags waiting for you to pick them up on the side of the shoe rack. There were some boxes piled up in the corner, books and sweaters pouring out of them. You made a mental note to pack those properly as soon as you came back to your little home.

Your boot was now tapping against the welcome mat, arms crossed and a scowl on your face as a pair of stupidly blue eyes finally peeked out from the corner wall. His soft dark hair had grown and been cut several times in the past year or so, but it still flopped onto his forehead and in front of his eyes.

“Sorry, doll,” Bucky started, his arms cradling the little bundle of joy that was starting to screech. “She’s not letting go of me.”

You sighed and beckoned him over, taking the white ball of fur from him and scratching the top of her head. You had brought her home on a dull rainy day, finding her cooped up in a wet cardboard box in the back alleyway with no collar around her neck. Bucky was reluctant of the new member of the family, but he had glanced at her white hair and said Alpine.

“Alpine’s just a daddy’s girl,” you whispered, looking up at him with bright eyes. Somehow, even with the slight stubble, messed up hair, a rip in his sleeve where Alpine had dug her claws in, he still managed to knock the breath out of you.

“Just like her mommy then, ain’t she?” Bucky teased when your phone rang with your dad’s face and name plastered on the front. You rolled your eyes and grabbed your phone from his hand—he had taken it to talk to Matthew about the new attachment that he had wanted for his house, but Matthew spent the time talking about his baby boy and Bucky would be lying if he said he minded it.

“Hello? Yeah. In a bit.” A hum followed by another. “Okay, see ya. Bye, love you too. Bye.” You looked up at Bucky, pecking him on the cheek—Alpine purred against your chest as a warning because she disliked the display in front of her—and then tilted your head as a way of telling him to leave now before Alpine caught onto your play.

“I’ll get the bags in,” Bucky stated, grabbing the three duffel bags with no problem with his left hand. “You get her in her bed, lock up the place. Also, just check if the dispenser has enough cat food for her, will ya?”

“Yeah, Bucky, I will.”

The same smile that had appeared on his face when you first said his name plastered itself on his lips. It had never seized from showing, his dimples and eye crinkles making it worth it. Every time you said Bucky made him glow, like he couldn’t believe you actually called him by his name. You tried to use as much as possible, more often when he was in a sour mood or had just woken up from a nightmare.

Those had decreased overtime, dying down to about twice a month unless something triggered him. You found those little ticks of his, the ones that meant he was uncomfortable, the ones you hadn’t noticed before. The first time you had noticed his eyes sweep to the exit, you had shrugged it off, but when his eyes kept trailing away from the crowd and you towards the door, you knew he wanted to leave. He was just too stubborn to say anything. The other antics came about and you learned to memorize them.

After an argument about his stubbornness and feeling the need not to ask for help—especially because it broke your heart not being able to help him when he needed it most—you signed the two of you up for couples counseling. Bucky had a bit to say on the matter, feeling the fight drain from him when you pouted and told him that it was only for a little while anyway. He still had no defence against your pouty lips and tears. He quite literally dropped to his knees once in an argument when you teared up.

“‘Kay, sweetheart. I’ll see you outside.” Bucky pecked your lips and then let his thumb caress the space between Alpine’s ears. “And I’ll see you in two weeks sometime.” With that, Bucky left the apartment, closing the door gently behind him as you started walking off to leave Alpine in her monitored room.

Bucky insisted on using the little room—the one that was originally a storage room—for Alpine, saying that the little one deserved her own room. You didn’t mind it one bit. Plus, you got a gorgeous view of his back muscles and abs and seeing that metal arm being put to good use and the other one flex while carrying heavy materials. Yeah, you distracted him and he got distracted once or twice or maybe five times. But, in the end, Alpine had her own little room with her too big cat scratcher, food dispenser, and little security cameras so that you two could watch her behaviour.

You bent down and watched her scurry off to climb the scratcher and curl up on the second landing. “Bye, Alpine.” She meowed in response and you figured it would be best to lock the window and door, seeing last time you and Bucky went out for date night, she had somehow managed to get out.

After that, you locked the front door and made your way down the three flights of stairs, the elevator still stuck from three months ago. You never minded the exercise and you definitely never minded the way Bucky would pick you up from behind and carry you up just because he could. He had opened up with the PDA and, while you loved having his presence, it made you flustered furiously everytime.

You hadn’t known how much he was holding back from saying and doing things during your days last year. He spent every second of any moment near you whispering sweet nothings or something vulgar enough to leave you breathless. Sometimes he would keep his hand on your back, other times it was wrapped around your shoulders or waist. If he wasn’t near enough to either of those, his eyes would find yours, crinkling up and giving you a look that was full of love.

Opening the main entrance, you were pelted with the harsh wind and snow bullets flurrying along with it. You shivered and tugged your coat closer to yourself, wishing you had listened to Bucky and put on that stupid scarf. You had been distracted while he was telling you that anyway; he was rolling his sleeves up before doing the dishes. Your shivers were over quickly because Bucky pulled his car in front of you—the one that he specifically bought for the two of you after a few dates of using his motorcycle and Steve’s car.

Bucky rushed out to rush you in, and with his sweet and gentle pushes, you sat down in the passenger seat. The car door closed just as you shuffled your body on the seat and started buckling up.

“Should I blast more heat? You think you’re fine? You should’ve worn the damn scarf, y’know? I told you it’s gonna be cold and you didn’t even bother putting on gloves. Come here—” Bucky grabbed your hands and put them in front of the vent, eyebrows furrowing as he felt your icy hands in his warm ones. “You gotta listen, doll. You get sick in the winter and, as much as I don't mind caring for you when you’re sick, you sure do suck the breath outta me when you are. You were sick for five days straight with the highest fever I’ve ever seen last time and—”

“Bucky,” you stressed out, noticing the tension leave his shoulders slightly and his eyes darted up to meet yours. “I’m okay. My hands are sweating and the temperature is fine. You should start driving before we get caught in traffic and are late for our flight.”

Bucky sighed and hesitated but obligated eventually when you pouted.

December 22nd

You stirred awake to hushed whispers and little giggles, blinking away the fuzz and trying to decipher what was going on. The room was dark, but the time on the clock told you it was half past eight. The usual arms around your waist were still there, but the muscles were tensing and loosening every now and then. You sucked in a breath and turned around, greeting the sight of Nate and Dan jumping up and down on the bed with raised eyebrows directed at Bucky.

“G’morning, doll,” Bucky whispered, kissing your cheek. “I love you.” That was the daily greeting, whether it was verbal or not. Sometimes he would get up for an early meeting with some investors—his architectural firm was growing rapidly after designing the Stark Tower for Tony—and leave with a note placed on your night table, his loopy handwriting reminding you that he loved you loads.

“Love you, too.” You looked over at the twins and they both chimed in a greeting, huffing and falling down with their bodies draping over Bucky. Bucky groaned at their weight, but you all knew better—he was more than capable of picking up the twins and spinning them around like he had yesterday.

After Matthew came to grab the twins, you and Bucky got ready for the day. There were gentle teasing hands trailing up your waist at points, making you unsteady and set your whole being on fire. Once that was over, you provoked Bucky by putting on Sam’s hoodie and inhaling it deeply to put on more of a show. Bucky wasn’t impressed and practically tackled you to the bed and convinced you to take it off. There were some elements of persuasion that worked better than others on you, and Bucky knew every single one of them.

You barely made it downstairs when Bucky’s phone rang. It had started ringing a lot more in the last three months than ever before. Business associates and potential clients started contacting Barnes & Co. and that would lead them straight to Bucky. Even with Wade, Bucky’s personal assistant, scheduling appointments left and right, Bucky still ended up taking more calls than he wanted.

“I have to—”

“I’ll wait in the kitchen, Buck,” you whispered, giving his lips a peck and then making your way towards the kitchen. It was bustling with noise, clicks and clanks of pots and spoons making the cabin a home. The sweet and fresh scent of ginger lingered in the air as you stepped in to see your family.

Hailey and Jake had arrived a week ago with Vanessa, Dylan, and their 10-month-old baby girl, Inara. They said they wanted to stay longer this time around, but you knew that they were facing problems with Jake’s family. They had a strict upbringing and conservative mindsets. So when Hailey started to work again a few months ago, they started dousing Hailey with the fault that she wasn’t going to be there for her kids as they grow. Jake stood by Hailey’s side every step of the way and you were glad for that.

TJ and Diya weren’t going to be able to make this time around, but Isabelle and Lea were already here. Lea was a carbon copy of her mother, with the same long black hair and emerald eyes. But she had her father’s facial shape, in a more feminine way, but it was her father’s genes that made that part of her up. Lea was hunched over a book, eyes darting around the page and unphased by the commotion around her. Isabelle was swatting Jake’s hand away from the pan, giving him a glare and mumbled something under her breath that made Jake grin.

Skylar and Tyler would be coming in tomorrow, having wrapped up their terms and exams. Deanna and Xavier would come on Christmas Eve with Harry and a new addition, Evie, a six-year-old girl. Your grandparents were supposed to be here today, but the snow storm on their end had their flight postponed.

“Hello, honey,” your mom said, grabbing your elbow and dragging you to a seat next to your dad. You raised an eyebrow and looked between them suspiciously; there was no mistaking that cooing tone in your mom’s voice.

“Okay,” you drawled out, shaking your head. “Nope. I’m not getting into the middle of this—whatever it is.”

“Oh, but—”

“Nope.” You shared a look with Matthew and he grinned at you, tilting his head as if to say jokes on you. You ignored him after sticking your tongue at him.

December 23rd

Bucky stirred awake, pulling you closer into his chest and burrowing his head into your neck. His hazy brain barely registered the kiss you dropped on his hand, lingering slightly before you started pulling away from him. His arm tightened around you, eyes snapping open and finding yours already on him with pursed lips. His gaze flickered around your face quickly, mapping out why exactly you were getting up, leaving him in bed by himself, this early in the morning.

“What’re you doing?” His voice was raspy and low, breaking in between the vowels, but he could see the way it relaxed you slightly.

“Need to use the bathroom,” you whispered, eyes darting away and cheeks burning. He raised an eyebrow, knowing you were lying. His grip faltered and you took the escape, dragging your feet to the bathroom. The door shut and locked with a click, making his eyebrows furrow even further. You never locked the bathroom anymore.

You had closed off before, early on in the relationship when Bucky was still taking you out on dates and earning bits of your love. You had pulled away from his touch during a morning coffee date, lifting your hand close to your chest and shaking your head gently. Even with his chest squeezing in on his heart, he had accepted your choice with a pained smile on his face. It’s okay he had reassured you, leaning back in his chair and giving you the space and time you needed.

You weren’t ready for his touch when the two of you were walking back to yours, nor the next day when he brought pizza for the hockey game, or the next when he was over for your weekly game night. Natasha had sent him questioning glares, scowling when he sat a few feet away from you on the three-seater. Steve already knew—Bucky being in a quieter state than usual and staring at his phone whenever it was lying somewhere near.

And he was fine with waiting for you. He could spend his whole life waiting for you and he would still wait afterwards.

When you were ready to talk to him and touch him again, you had called him. It was the dead of night and Bucky was already passed out, but he had woken himself up to talk to you. He listened to you apologize and explain that it was an impulsive thing, that it wouldn’t happen all the time. It was triggered with a phone call from Matt Murdock about the case, telling you that Rumlow was being detained for violating his restraining order. Even though that meant that Rumlow was a safe distance from you, you couldn’t help but think that he was going to find a way to get out.

Bucky got up and started towards the bathroom, knocking twice and asking, “Can I come in, doll?” A few seconds passed before the tell-tale click sounded in the silence and Bucky pushed open the door to find you teary-eyed. You lunged at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face into the curve of it. Bucky’s arms went around your middle, tugging your body towards him as one hand trailed up to the back of your head. He scratched your scalp and kissed your temple, laying his cheek against it.

———

You wanted to spend the day lounging in bed with Bucky and watch a movie, no matter how insistent he was about the scene. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to spend time with you—he often complained about how much less time he got to spend in your presence nowadays—but you rarely saw your family. However, you were stubborn enough for him to give in, only going down to tell your mom that you weren’t feeling all that well and wanted to spend the day upstairs in your room. With the slight blush on his cheeks and hair out of place, you could tell he was teased about the plans you had. You felt the tiniest bit of guilt, but it was overpowered by the urge to tease him about it more.

“You alright there, Bucky?” You asked, teasing tone making him huff out a breath, feigning annoyance as he eyed you wearily.

“You seem perfectly fine,” he said, placing a knee on the bed and crawling to hover over you with a cocked eyebrow.

In all honesty, you had started to feel better about two hours ago when he had knocked on that door and held you while you cried. But you didn’t feel up to talking to your family and wanted to stay out of their sight until you felt ready for all that. You also had the sudden urge to just feel Bucky today. You wanted nothing more than to be in his arms, drowned in his scent, wearing his hoodie, and watching a movie you two fought over in your shared bed.

“I feel better when I’m with you,” you mumbled, gently pulling his head down with your hands behind his neck. You stopped pulling when his nose bumped yours, nudging you to pull him further down, but you stopped there. He let out a shaky breath, eyes darkening the longer you kept the distance between your lips. His eyes darted between yours, finding the challenge in them, before swearing under his breath.

“Fuck it.” He placed his lips against yours, kissing you with an urgent need that set your whole being on fire. Every fibre and bone suddenly trembled in excitement as he pushed down and let his body press against yours. His lips started to move, leaving a trail of heat and goosebumps. Down your jaw, pressing against your pulse point a bit harder, and dragging his teeth on a sensitive spot on the curve of your neck, his lips gave you every bit they had to offer.

Everything from there turned into a blur, clothes mixing up on the floor as you both tried to get closer to each other.

Gentle fingertips traced your body, lips finding the places that made you squirm and his lips turn up into a smirk. Another hand, cold to the touch, but gentle touching on your skin, came to your hip to keep you grounded. His lips landed on yours once more, one hand skimming down to bring you to the edge and let you fall. Whispers and hushed voices echoed in the room, keeping the volume to a minimum. Slowly he delved through you, taking you apart and putting you back together twice before reaching his own high.

Deep inhales and exhales overtook the quiet moans that had escaped your lips as Bucky gently lowered his body weight onto you, biting your shoulder playfully. You chuckled and swatted his arm, exaggerating your breathing to tease him about his heavy body draped over yours. He lifted his body, raising an eyebrow as he kissed up your neck. He favoured his metal arm as he slid a hand down your side, squeezing your hip with a smirk when you squirmed and brushed against him.

“We need to take a shower,” you whispered, feeling his lips press into your neck once more.

“Together?” His voice sent shivers through your body. “Scandalous.” He pressed a few more kisses on your neck and then lifted you up with him without even a huff, walking towards the bathroom.

December 24th

“How does the arm work?” Vanessa asked, flopping down next to Bucky before deciding to climb onto his lap. She twisted her legs, hitting a spot that almost made him keel over, and sat crossed-legged on his lap. You hid a smile, but Bucky caught it anyway.

“What do you mean, princess?” Bucky raised an eyebrow and caught the way she looked over at her dad for some sort of reassurance. Once she found it, she gestured to his shoulder, right where metal met skin.

“I mean, how does it move?” She furrowed her eyebrows cutely. “We learned a little about the nervous system in class. The teacher said that our…um, body parts were connected to our brain and the brain sends messages to the body part when we want to move it. But your arm isn’t really…”

Bucky tilted his head and filled in, “Organic?”

Bucky knew where this was going, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about it. Vanessa, like the rest of your family, was more than respectful with her questions. No one had ever said something off-handedly about his arm, not even after yesterday’s incident of his detached arm when you two had finally ventured down. He had always been ready to answer any questions they might have had, but no one ever asked him any.

“Yeah, I guess. It’s made of metal and we learned that if someone gets a part cut off—wait, there was a word she said…”

“Amputated?”

“Yeah! Amputated.” It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best she could say it so Bucky smiled for her to continue. “When that happens, you can’t put it back, like teeth. After your baby teeth fall out, the adult ones won’t have a—a, uh, replacement.” Vanessa gave him a crooked smile, eyes shimmering with pride.

“You are so smart, princess,” Bucky praised, ruffling her hair a little and laughing when she wrinkled her nose and swatted at his hand. “Well, you see, this arm was a gift from Princess Shuri and—”

“Princess Shuri?” Vanessa beamed and jumped a little at the name. “We read about her. She’s so cool. She’s a princess, but then she’s also a scientist.” Bucky grinned at the way she slightly mispronounced the word scientist and felt his heart swell with the way she thought highly about Shuri. He would tell Shuri about this encounter later.

“Yeah. She gave me the arm after I helped King T’Challa.” Vanessa squealed and turned a violent shade of red. Bucky raised an eyebrow and looked over at Jake.

“Celebrity crush,” Jake sighed, shrugging and giving Hailey a look that meant it was her fault somehow. Hailey merely shrugged and winked over at you.

“King T’Challa is a perfect gentleman,” she said simply, letting you giggle and Bucky scowl at the way you nodded along with her.

“Seriously, doll?” Bucky shook his head and turned back to Vanessa. “That man is married and you are way too young to have a crush on him.”

“Fine,” Vanessa groaned out, rolling her eyes and then grinning. “Can you tell me how she made it move?”

“Well, it’s connected to the part of my brain that sends those messages to move to my limbs. It’s a little chip that she had to put in, right here—” Bucky pointed to the spot above his ear— “with a little needle.”

“Did it hurt?” Vanessa’s voice was small and timid as she brushed her fingers over the spot Bucky had pointed at. Bucky’s voice got lost in his throat before he cleared it and shook his head, unable to trust his voice. “Oh. That’s good.”

“Yeah,” Bucky whispered, clearing his throat again to get rid of the burning sensation there. “Shuri made sure it wouldn’t hurt.”

“Does it ever hurt? Like when it’s cold or too hot?”

“No, not really.” Bucky tilted his head in thought. “Sometimes it aches, hurts when it’s cold. Just over here.” He pointed at the spot where metal met skin. Vanessa frowned and looked around. She spotted a blanket at the corner of the couch and grabbed it, putting it around Bucky’s shoulders.

“There,” she announced after smacking his head with her elbow by accident and adjusting the blanket to drape over his shoulders like a cape. “We can keep you warm so it doesn’t hurt.”

Bucky felt his breath lodge up in his throat and his heart contracted in his chest at the gesture. He blew out a breath and pulled Vanessa into his chest, eyes tearing up a little. Vanessa giggled and muttered something along the lines of don’t tickle me before wrapping her arms around his waist as much as she could with her tiny arms. He locked eyes with Jake who was watching on with a teary smile and then he looked away when Vanessa pulled away.

December 25th

Bucky’s voice echoed through the house from the top of the stairs, yelling your name as loud as he could. The silence in the living room was deafening, everyone’s eyes coming to land on you with some sort of accustory expression on their faces. Dim red, green, and white lights flickered in their eyes and on their face. The lights of the Christmas tree weren't enough for your family, so your dad flicked on the main lights as he walked towards the hallway bathroom. Your mom looked at you with raised eyebrows and pursed lips, an expression that you knew meant she wanted an answer right away.

You shrugged, keeping your grin from breaking out on your face by biting the insides of your cheeks. When Nate and Dan came in, snickering and giggling, Matthew traded a deadpan stare with Tania, bouncing baby Gabriel on one of his knees while Tania’s arms were filled with a sleepy Ariel. Matthew then turned his head to give you a glare, knowing he was going to be dragged into your mom’s lecture since his kids were involved somehow.

Bucky was right behind the boys, in all his sparkling glory. His hair was streaked with silver, the overhead lights hitting him just right to showcase your handy work. From his hair to his shoulders, he was doused in glitter and leaving a track behind him. Silver glitter was stuck to every inch of his face, a few sparkles falling to the ground each time he took a breath or turned his head slightly. The glitter on his shoulders was trickling down to his black sweater and burgundy sweatpants. His socks were no better than his shoulders, sparkling in the light.

He was identical to a disco ball. The thought had your remaining facade falling, breaking down into laughter as his scowl became prominent. Glitter fell from his face as he twisted his lips into a thin line, cheeks hollowing out as he glowered at you. Even without the glitter his glare would have done nothing to intimidate you. You only laughed harder, doubling over in your spot on the couch as he tried to glare at you harder. The glitter fell to the floor as he furrowed his sparkly eyebrows.

He tried to move forward to get to you, maybe cover you in glitter, but stopped short when he realised you were sitting across the carpeted floor. The glitter would be a hassle to get out of the carpet and it seemed to dawn on him that you took that specific spot for a reason.

Your mom was the first one to react after you, getting up and fussing over him, but not daring to touch the glitter. Her hands drifted around his body as if she was going to dust him off, but merely gestured to you with a finger. Frowning and shaking her head, she opened her mouth and closed it twice before finally speaking.

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/S,” she started, dropping her hand and placing her hands on her hips. You were still giggling, even more so when she tried to glare at you too. She was never the intimidating one in the family—neither was your dad—and so you tried to stop laughing, but it only seemed to get worse. Especially when your dad walked in, stopping to look at Bucky, giving him a once over, and then keeled over laughing and slapping his knee.

Bucky’s own facade was starting to crumble, lips twitching and eyebrows moving slightly. The glitter that fell from his face told you that he was holding it together with a string now.

“He looks like a disco ball,” you stated, letting your lips curl up higher when Bucky pouted at you. You almost cooed at his face, finding the glitter coating his cheeks and eyebrows almost adorable and innocent. Matthew broke down at the comment, startling baby Gabriel and earning a quick swat from your mom who was close enough to do that.

Nate and Dan were laughing, rolling on the floor loudly with Vanessa rolling her eyes at them and muttering boys under her breath. Her lips did, however, curl into a sly smile when Bucky looked over at the twins with an exasperated sigh. Jake was trying his best to be polite, snickering into his fisted hand and covering his smile with a hand while Hailey was shaking her head at the mess around Bucky’s feet. She tugged baby Inara closer to her chest and leaned back, unable to keep her smirk off her face. Everyone else joined in slowly, giggling when Lea high-fived you.

“Merry Christmas,” you mouthed at Bucky, falling into another fit of laughter as Bucky’s grin finally broke out on his face.

December 26th

The snow trickled down, landing in piles on the curb and turning into slush on the sidewalk. Your boots collided with concrete with a soft squish, breath turning into vapour as you took a deep breath and brought your hands up to warm them. The gloves you had worn were thin and wet after throwing snow at Bucky. He was trudging next to you, a feather-like imprint of his hand on your back as he navigated through the small town he had taken you to. Most of the shops were closed and those that were open were celebrating Boxing Day, sales going up to 70% in this part.

Bucky’s hand bunched up your jacket, dragging you abruptly towards a small shop that was nestled between two huge buildings. He smirked when you swatted his arm, about to scold him for pulling you so harshly when your eyes landed on the display window. There were books lining the display, classics and modern titles all adorned on several small floating shelves for passersby to look at. Your eyes flickered up to the name, Stan’s Corner, as Bucky rattled the knob, twisting the keys in his hands.

He grabbed your hand and pulled you inside, moving you in front of him so that he could lock the door and let you awe over the bookstore. The shelves that adorned the walls were filled with books, not one space empty. The lights overhead weren’t white, weren’t LED, but the yellow hue these lights gave made the bookstore all that much warmer. Bucky’s palms were pressing between your shoulder blades all too soon to guide you through the front shelves to the cashier counter.

“How—How did you get the keys?” You stuttered, chuckling airly as you turned to face him. You were sure your eyes were dazed, stars flying around your head, and a heart floating in front of you. Bucky shrugged, ears and cheeks turning pink with his flustered state.

“Met the owner when me and the boys were out getting new jackets,” Bucky said nonchalantly, the slight tremor in his voice telling you that he was nervous about this date. Since you two had gotten together, after the first date back last year, he had promised you to go on at least one date every week. This week, since you two were here, you had thought he would skip out on it—and you were fine with that—but he had told your parents he was taking you out today without hesitation.

“And they just gave you the keys?” You bit your lip when that teasing smirk replaced his smile.

“Are you implying I stole these, sweetheart?” He brought the keys up, dangling them between the two of you and jiggling them with a raised eyebrow. You giggled and shook your head, the glint in his eye making you lightheaded. “I just talked to him about bringing you here today, but he told me it was supposed to be closed ‘cause he had taxi work to do.”

“And then you stole them?” You joked, squealing when his cold hand slipped up your jacket and shirt to tickle your side. You tried to jump away from him, but his metal arm wrapped around your waist, trapping you against his chest.

“I asked him for the keys for the day,” Bucky whispered, his breath hot against your temple. He placed a kiss there and added, “Thought you would like it.”

The emotion in his tone made you lean into his body, molding into his chest as he wrapped his flesh arm around you too. The warm air in the store was starting to get to you, jacket ruffling as you unzipped it halfway before Bucky’s fingers replaced yours, tugging the zip down all the way. You tilted your head just enough to look him in the eyes. He swallowed, eyes flickering up from your chosen outfit—a velvet burgundy dress with a neckline that dipped down enough for him to adjust himself.

“There’s some first edition books at the back that Stan collects. He said we can read them as long as there’s no stains or folded pages. Thought you’d like the back a bit more because there’s—”

“I love it, Bucky.” You turned in his arms, looping your arms around his neck and tugging at his locks affectionately. You placed your lips against his gently, only allowing a small peck before pulling back with shining eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too, doll.” Bucky kissed you, unable to wipe the smile off of either of your faces and smiling into the kiss. Bucky pulled away, his hand coming up to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “I love you more. Now, let’s read.”

He pulled you towards the back where the first editions lined the bookshelves, couches and armchairs in front of it with a fluffy carpet covering the floor. You nudged Bucky, toeing off your boots and making him do the same. You could feel the fluffy texture through your socks, wiggling your toes in it before walking over to the shelves just to graze over the titles. Bucky flopped down on one of the armchairs, leaning his face against his fist and watching you with a smile on his face.

He had deliberately planned dates like this twice before, not realizing the first time why his eyes were stuck on you. The first date in the summer, the one you wore the pretty blue number that you said matched his eye colour, he had wanted to take a trip to the zoo after a quick talk with Natasha about your love for baby animals. Once he had seen you coo over the tiger cubs and then the bear cubs, his heart had never felt more full. Then, during a week full of rain, he had a date lined up to be at the aquarium. He had spent the whole time with his eyes on you, gauging every little reaction you had.

Now you lightly graze the spines of the books, gentle as if you were touching a flower petal, tilting your head slightly to mouth the titles to yourself. Murmuring something under your breath, you went on the line of books, reading each title and stroking the spines as you moved along. Your eyes lit up at a certain book title, letting your fingers press into the book a little harder and then smiled as you moved to the next book. His eyes drifted off from you for a second to get the title, grinning when he saw it was the first edition of The Hobbit.

His eyes were back on you a moment later, storing the thought of asking Stan about buying the book off of him someday at the back of his head.

“Buck?” Your voice was teasing, but the way you said his name left him breathless. You raised an eyebrow at him, pulling out a book delicately and holding it to your chest protectively. “Are you going to just watch me read?”

Bucky shook his head with a smile, beckoning you over with a crooked finger and spreading his legs a little further than they already were. He grabbed your waist and dragged you down to sit on his thigh, closer to his torso, and then tugged your legs up with his hand gripping your thigh. His hand curled around your calf when it was close enough, leaning back and folding your legs on his lap.

“You’re going to read to me,” he said lowly, voice husky as he kissed your neck and you squirmed on his lap. His fingers dipped under your dress and he added, “Don’t stop and you’ll get what you need.”

December 27th

The dark blue sky is clear for the first time in weeks since winter began. The stars dance and shimmer in the sky, happy to be seen and looked up at. They give a little show to onlookers and one falls to the never ending empty space, stroking the sky behind it in a dim white colour. The moon is small, a mere crescent in the sky, but it shines brighter than it has in days. The light from the moon trickles into the room through the blinds, illuminating your sleeping figure on the bed as Bucky stirs awake to the buzzing coming from somewhere on his side.

Bucky's arm flung out to stop the insistent buzz, grabbing the cool phone off the night table and swiping the answer button without looking at the contact name. He gently maneuvers himself to face away from you, metal arm still stuck under your pillow when he whispers into the silent night.

“Hullo?” Bucky slurred out, snapping out of his daze when he heard the sniffles through the speaker. He pulled the phone away from his ear, glancing at the name and sucking in a breath as he waited for Rebecca to speak.

“Hi, Bucky,” she whispered, voice raspy and a sniffle following her greeting.

“What happened?” He asked, worst case scenarios popping out in his mind as he shifted even further from you. You shifted towards his body heat, but he knew if he kept talking like this, you would wake up. After the long night you two spent awake, he wanted you to get the sleep you needed.

“Bruce broke up with me,” she choked out, a sob crackling through the line. Bucky sat up after moving his arm from beneath your head, sitting up at the edge of it. Bucky ran a hand through his hair, unable to reason why exactly Rebecca had called him for that—she usually opted to keep him out of her love life and Bucky was fine with that, knowing she would much rather talk about it with her friends. He waited for Rebecca’s crying to seize before speaking.

“Why?” He asked, eyes trained on the books lining your shelves. Rebecca inhaled and exhaled before answering his question.

“Because he can’t—it’s because he can’t—” Rebecca broke off, inhaling sharply before whispering, “He can’t have kids.”

“I, uh, well—did—did you two—have you—” Bucky cursed inwards for not having the proper words to ask what he wanted without making it weird and heard Rebecca sigh.

“I should call someone else, shouldn’t I?”

“Yeah, Becca” Bucky breathed out, shoulders relaxing slightly, but not enough to feel relaxed. “Call Nat, will ya? She can handle things like this—” Bucky felt the tapping on his shoulder and looked over his shoulder to see your slightly dazed eyes watching him. His phone drifted off from his ear slightly, just enough for your eyes to catch the movement.

“You okay?” You whispered, shifting over to kneel behind him and press the heel of your palm in between his shoulder blades. You started massaging the tense muscles there and Bucky felt his shoulders loosen with your eyes on him.

“Yeah,” he replied, uncertain about telling you about Rebecca’s current state and situation. The topic of kids was never brought up in the past year or so, both of you knowing it somewhat too early to talk about it. But now, Bucky was wishing he had brought up kids at some point and told you that he wanted them with you.

You pressed your hand into his back a bit harder to bring him back, Rebecca’s voice coming through the phone in a low murmur.

“I’m okay, but Becca, she, uh, broke up with her boyfriend—no, her boyfriend broke up with her and she wanted to—”

“Here,” you cut in, extending your arm out in front of him and opening your palm upwards for him to place his phone in. He fell back into your chest, keeping his weight light as he did so, and gave the phone to you without a question or hesitation. Your free hand came up to his hair, fingers raking through his hair and nails scraping at his scalp gently to relax him further into you.

You shifted to sit crossed-legged and brought the phone up to your ear.

“Hey, Becca?” Your eyes widened slightly as you shook your head. “No, no, no! I’m fine. Yeah. We’re going to talk about you and Bruce.”

You certainly knew more about Rebecca’s love life than him. When you had timidly asked him if he was ever planning on reaching out to his family six months ago, he had initially shook his head. But a mere month later, he found himself dialling his mother’s number, always having it stored in his head, and greeting her with a choked hello, ma. It was an emotional conversation, his father’s cutting into his mother’s and becoming a jumbled mess. Calling you after cutting their call with the promise calling them back in a few hours, he had waited for you to come over before breaking down.

Slowly, the conversations with his parents became easy, having caught up in life. They knew about you and the holiday you two had spent together and the way your gentle words had somehow brought Bucky back to them. Bucky was relieved when you and mother—even though he had scowled at the time—exchanged embarrassing stories about him. Rebecca had already called you her sister-in-law twice, laughing when you got flustered at the statements. His mom had only given him a knowing look through the screen and smiled when you started speaking again.

“Okay?” You asked, yawning and giggling when Rebecca said something over the phone to you. “Well, you tell your brother that because he—” You laughed, chest moving with each sharp inhale and made Bucky’s head bob with it.

“Sorry, okay. Yeah, alright. Take care. You too. Bye, bye.” You giggled as you hung up, placing the phone on his chest so that he could pick it up and place it back on the night table. You pressed a lingering kiss on his temple, moving some of his hair away from his eyes to look at him properly.

“Let’s go to bed. We’ll see how she’s doing tomorrow when we meet her, ‘kay?” You said, kissing his head once more before starting to move behind him. He urged his body to move and laid back down, pulling you flush against him.

“Since we’re already up—”

“No, James.”

“Oh, but what if I do the thing with my tongue and—”

“Goodnight, Barney.”

December 28th

With the growing line behind you and the closely huddled crowd beyond the gates, you could tell Bucky would need your help to get through. Although he hadn’t had a panic attack in a large crowd for two months now, you were always worried about his health. He had procrastinated the professional help he needed after losing his arm and then did nothing to meet the therapist halfway for the first six months. You knew he had a hard time opening up, especially when it came to his accident, but you had been furious with him when he had tried to conduct himself through a panic attack at one of Tony’s parties five or so months ago.

You could have helped him. You told him that you felt as useless as he did last year at the mall when you were having a panic attack close to the bathrooms. Realising what you felt when he pushed you away, he let you guide him through his panic attack.

Now, he tugged on your hand to push in front of him at the metal detectors, urging you to go before him. You went through the frame and grabbed your bag from the band, waiting for Bucky to go through. Luckily, vibranium wasn’t detected in these types of metal detectors so he didn’t need to detach his arm. He grabbed his duffel bag and your hand, swiping his thumb over your knuckles before bringing your hand up and pressing his lips into them.

“I’m okay,” he whispered, winking at you when your mouth opened to retaliate and ask exactly how he knew you were worried. “You think too loud, doll.” You rolled your eyes at him and guided him through the airport towards the gate number you were supposed to be at five minutes ago. You had been late to get out of your room this morning, all blame going to Bucky when you saw the marks littering your chest and imprints of hands on your hips.

He hadn’t even seemed the least bit remorseful when you shrugged on one of his hoodies that covered every little bruise. In fact, he had grinned and taken upon a smug expression as you two had made your way downstairs to say your goodbyes and leave for the airport. The flight heading to Brooklyn was a last minute plan, mostly because his mom hadn’t been sure if they were going to be home for the holidays or gone to Romania to visit her cousins. She had called two days before your flight to Canada, letting you two know that they were going to be home and you two were welcome to come over whenever.

Bucky had scrambled to find flight tickets when you had told him you wanted to meet his parents and Rebecca. In person, because online videos and chats weren’t the same.

With most of the passengers already boarded, you and Bucky made it to your seats fairly quickly and sat down with a laugh when Bucky had to squish his body into yours to let an elderly lady through. Your seat was in the middle, a man around your age on the window side, while Bucky was in the seat close to the aisle. It seemed to be a fine seating arrangement, but then the man had started talking to you while Bucky brought out a book to read. It was innocent at first, just asking about your holiday plans and the flight back, until he started asking you if someone was waiting for you at home.

Bucky had all but growled and scowled at the man, leaning his head in and whispering, “Switch seats with me, doll.” You obliged, never having seen his possessive side back at home. You never really ventured out of your band of misfits, sticking to your friends during an outing. Men had asked you out in front of Bucky before, but then you hadn’t been his and he hadn’t been yours.

Settling into Bucky’s seat, you noticed two things; one, his seat was warm and two, he was too big for the seat in the middle. He adjusted himself to sit slightly sideways, blocking the man’s view of you completely. You leaned against his shoulder and read the book he was reading, recognizing the title. You bit your tongue for a few minutes, letting Bucky think that you accepted his behaviour without teasing, before proving him wrong.

“You’re so cute when you're jealous.”

———

Winifred Barnes greeted you as if you had been in her life since Bucky had been. A warm embrace and kiss to your cheek, she cupped your cheeks in her hands with a soft smile on her face. She then swatted Bucky’s arm with the oven mitt she was holding, scolding him for taking so long to get his act together and calling them. Bucky merely smiled painfully as she continued to ramble, slowly realising she hadn’t even hugged him yet. Then she was crying into his shoulder, patting his hair and smoothing a hand down his back with hushed murmurs too low for you to hear.

George Barnes had stood back with glazed eyes, lips pressed into a thin line before extending a hand to you to shake. His eyes were the same shade of blue as Bucky and his hair, even though lined with grey, was the same as the dark locks of Bucky. You shook it with a genuine smile on your face, a stray tear slipping down your cheek as George took his wife’s spot and wrapped his arms around Bucky. Bucky seemed to stiffen when George patted his back and then relaxed when George whispered something in his ear.

Rebecca came running down the stairs, earphones dangling from her phone where they were plugged with her hands trying their best to grasp them. She looked similar to Bucky with the same piercing blue eyes and dimples on her cheeks when she smiled. Her features were feminine and softer, but she looked like Bucky. They both had gained more of their father than mother. She wrapped you in a hug, squeezing tightly and whispering that she had some things to tell you. Her mood was better than last night and you wondered if Bruce had called her back.

“You!” She pointed at Bucky, voice increasing louder than you had expected. “You little shit! You left me on read that day and your asshole friend told me nothing! Nothing! I had to find out you moved to New York to join the fucking army from Steve’s girlfriend. Steve, oh my, when I get my hands on him, I’m gonna strangle the shit out of him! Asshole.”

Bucky grinned and said, “Missed you too, Becs.” Rebecca softened and pulled him into a hug, squeezing a bit more tighter and making him groan.

“You deserve a lot worse than that, dumbass.”

Stupid,” Bucky muttered under his breath, earning a swat to the head from Rebecca. He glared at her and she stuck her tongue out at him.

“Can’t do anything about it,” she taunted, spinning on her heels and sauntering further into the house. ��I’m ma and pa’s favourite.”

“She might be my favourite Barnes,” you teased Bucky with a wink as he stepped up onto the first step when his parents had gestured for Bucky to take the suitcases upstairs to his childhood bedroom. Winifred waved a hand, gesturing for you to follow her, seemingly not hearing what you had said.

“Favourite Barnes, my ass,” he muttered under his breath, heaving up a suitcase without groaning and sending a glare towards where Rebecca was now settled beside you on the three-seater. You heard him with the small two-story brownstone open floor plan.

You found the house nice and warm, kind of like the embrace Winifred had wrapped you in. The more you looked around the place, the more you realized that she was probably the one who decorated the place. The vintage velvet couches were a dark red colour that fit perfectly in the light brown colour the living room was painted in. The dining room was a sage green colour with a lighter shade creating a mural of leaves. The kitchen was a pale blue colour with a hint of grey in it. The fireplace was on, lighting the wooden floor in shades of yellow and oranges.

Your eyes landed on a picture of Bucky and Rebecca in the snow with a snowman built between them. It was hung beside the TV, a place where anyone in the house could see it. Neither of them were looking at the camera, but at each other and that just made it more adorable. Bucky’s wide grin showed a missing tooth at the top, one arm thrown around the snowman while the other jutted out to the side. Rebecca, who was probably around four or five, was only managing a smile, caught looking at her brother from the corner of her eyes.

“You guys are adorable,” you cooed, eyes flickering to Rebecca when you heard her huff in annoyance.

“I’m gonna burn that thing,” she muttered under her breath, watching Bucky descend the stairs and catch your line of sight. He sighed in annoyance, a similar reaction to what Rebecca had.

“If you do that,” you started, pausing when Bucky flopped down beside you and threw his arm over the couch behind you, “I might cry.”

“Fuck,” Bucky hissed, throwing his head back and screwing his face up like he was in pain. “Don’t burn that picture, Becs.” You wanted to laugh at the thought of your tears—just the thought of your tears—causing him so much pain. You wanted to giggle or tease him, maybe fake some tears right then, but you understood what he felt to a limit. While you would be hurt if he was crying, you weren’t sure if you would cry with him. But, knowing your Bucky, he would break if you cried. You had seen it in an argument you two had about eight months ago.

“Shit, he’s whipped. You gotta tell me how you did that.”

December 29th

Mornings with the Barnes were different from mornings with the Y/Ss, that much was obvious. The usual clangs of pots and pans were missing, replaced with hushed voices and the smell of cinnamon, coffee, and bacon strong in the air. The curtains were closed from Winifred’s orders, telling you both to get as much sleep as you needed, so no light invaded the room. Your bodies were tangled up more than usual with the smaller bed frame. None of you had batted an eye when you realized that the double-sized bed was what you two were sharing for two nights.

Snuggling further into Bucky’s chest and tugging the blanket up to your nose, you yawned and blinked awake. The smell of coffee had always seemed to wake you up and the smell of cinnamon was making your stomach growl lowly. Sneaking a glance up at Bucky, you snuck out of bed and made your way into the bathroom. When you came out, Bucky was still asleep, mouth slightly parted with his soft snores filling the room.

He ought to be tired after all the heavy lifting he did yesterday and the day before. After dropping your suitcases to his bedroom and getting a five minute break on the couch with you and Rebecca, he had been whisked away by George to shovel the driveway. Bucky assured you and Rebecca that he didn’t need help and was looking for a way to keep exercising over the holidays anyway. The snow had mixed with rain so it was heavier than usual and you could tell Bucky’s arms were going to be sore the next day.

He had started wincing last night when he laid on his side. He still held you close, wrapping his arms around your middle and yanking you to lay on his chest for the first few minutes. Then you had slid off, placing a kiss on his jaw and feeling his body relax as he fell into a slumber.

You tiptoed downstairs before making your presence known by the creak in the last step. Winifred and George looked up from their plates and smiled at you.

“Good morning,” they both chimed, Winifred moving to get up.

“Good morning,” you repeated back, sitting down at the breakfast table when Winifred motioned for you to do so. You wanted to argue but you had learned Winifred Barnes did not want anyone else in her kitchen yesterday. She placed a plate of toast, eggs, and bacon in front of you and let you dig in before sitting down, satisfied with your first bite. Rebecca trudged down the stairs a few minutes later, eyes trained on her phone with a big smile on her face.

She and Bruce had had a long talk and Bruce finally accepted the fact that Rebecca was fine without kids for now. When they did want to have kids, and if they stayed together for that long—she thought they would—they could always adopt.

Once she reached the table, she flopped down onto the chair with routine and waited for her mom to set up her plate. She put away her phone and started chatting with you as you both ate. George was long gone into his study, the only room on the main floor that had doors and walls of its own, when Bucky came down. His eyes darted to you, a soft glare on his face and a pout on his lips.

“You left me alone.”

December 30th

Bucky shook his head at you when you grunted trying to pick up your suitcase. He had been telling you for the last few hours that he was going to load them into the pickup truck Steve brought over last night with Natasha. Steve had gotten quite the welcome; a warm hug from both his parents and then Rebecca attempting to swing her foot into his face. Natasha merely greeted Bucky’s parents and grabbed you and Rebecca, pulling you two away from the group and gossiping about whatever.

He was lucky for that. It had given him the time to sneak his parents and Steve away into the study for a bit without you noticing.

“Doll,” Bucky said, hands on his hips and an adoring smile on his lips. You huffed out a breath of annoyance and let go of the suitcase handle to push your hair back. “Me and Steve’ll put this shit away.”

“Why haven’t you then?” You retorted, a frustrated tone coming into hearing. He furrowed his eyebrows and dropped his stance to something more confused. You rarely snapped at him without provoking or a really good reason to. His mind wandered off to yesterday, trying to remember if he had pissed you off somehow or if anyone else had something to you. His mind came up blank.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He asked timidly and you seemed to sag at his voice. You blew out a breath and then inhaled deeply, repeating the process a few times.

“I’m okay,” you replied, lips trying to curl at the sides but failing miserably when your bottom lip trembled. He caught the action and was wrapping his arms around you tight the next second. You wrapped your arms around his middle. He felt his shirt wet and his heart squeezed itself in pain.

“Hey, sweetheart. Don’t cry, Y/N. I might cry too, and we know that’s gonna be a mess.” His knees were starting to feel weak and his eyes were glazing over, trying to blink away the tears. Your watery chuckle had his heart loosening a little. When you looked up at him with your teary eyes and sad smile, he let out a shaky sigh. “There’s my girl.”

“I’m okay,” you repeated, nodding your head once to affirm it. “I’m just a bit emotional since we’re heading home now.”

“Well, I know a little white furball who’s probably waiting for her mama to come back home. I know she misses you loads.”

You snorted and said, “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious, doll. That cat loves you.”

“She’s absolutely smitten with you, Bucky Barnes.”

“The cat?”

“Both of us.”

29 notes · View notes

vega-creates-things · 11 months

Text

Muse (Part 2)

ROTTMNT Leo x GN/Rabbit Yokai!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Embarrassment, Aged-up Turtles

Synopsis: You've been visiting Run Of The Mill Pizza maybe a little too often just to see the blue clad turtle of your affections and draw him. You're pretty sure he hasn't noticed you at all, bad news for you, he has and he is far too curious about why you watch him.

A/N: Here we go again! Part two baby!! Heck yeah. I like how this one turned out!!! This is a repost from my old side blog since I wanted to make a main blog for this stuff.

♡♡♡

Since the first encounter at Hueso's pizza joint, Leo had come to pester you dozens of times if you happened to be there together. Then there was the fact you had both exchanged phone numbers, and the way that had made your heart beat so fast that while you were heading home you thought you were having a heart attack...

All in all you had had a crazy two weeks of seeing him just about every other day. He was consistent and so were you- though, because of this, Hueso had begun to make small playful comments that you were attempting to run for most loyal customer against the Hamato's- something with which you knew you would never win.

Everything was going great though. You felt happier than you had in a long time and it showed. Even Leo had taken notice...

"So, you smile more now."

"What?" You cast your gaze over to your table guest and furrowed your brow.

Leo rolled his eyes, toying with one of his odachi as he continued to speak- god... you were almost worried he was going to cut himself on that thing if he wasn't careful. "So when I first noticed you watching me all the time you always looked so serious. I thought you just had a bad day, but then every time I noticed you, I realized that was the normal expression." He shrugged, sheathing the sword and settling back against his chair. "Lately, however, you've actually been smiling- a lot. Why might that be?" He inquired with a teasing lilt, giving you his classic bemused grin.

You could tell what he was implying, and that he solely meant it as a joke, so you simply knitted your fingers together, leaning over the table slightly and eyeing him. "Yeah, I think maybe my tragic disease of resting bitch face is finally clearing up." You offered, keeping a serious tone until he burst out laughing, and then you couldn't help but smile.

The slider leaned closer to you. "Awh, are you sure it isn't to do with my wonderful presence?" He cooed, batting his eyes at you in a playfully flirting manner. Leo slowly began to reach forward, being as slow as possible to not draw attention to his attempt at working your sketchbook from where it sat on the tabletop.

You didn't notice at first, not until he got a little too close to you and you got flustered, glancing down to avert your gaze and then tugging your book away, instantly narrowing your eyes and glancing up at him again after you settled the object underneath your legs where he couldn't get to it unless he was REALLY desperate.

Too close. Oh my god he was practically an inch from your face.

The moment he had realized that you had caught on he lightly slammed his hands on the table and then slumped into his chair, tipping it onto the back legs before bringing his legs up onto the table and crossing them. "Didn't think you'd catch on that fast."

You nodded and let out a quiet "mm-hmm" as you absently took careful and gentle hold of your right ear, bringing it down next to your face and just rubbing the soft fur. "Then you underestimate me, blue boy." You chuckled wryly, leaning to rest your head in your hands, watching him with intrigue.

Pouting ever so slightly, Leo watched you a moment longer, and then much to his chagrin, he had his legs knocked off of the table by Hueso who simply gave him a long look.

"Feet off the table pepino." His voice was relatively kind, as usual, but there was a mild exasperation to it.

Leo's face grew hot as he glanced up at the skeleton. "I- uh- sorry-" he offered a small and nervous chuckle, fidgeting with his hands and going a bit quiet.

Hueso shook his head and sighed, patting Leo on the head. "Just don't let me catch you doing it again." He offered, heading off to take care of some new customers.

Letting out a long, low whistle, you eye Leo up with quiet amusement. "I don't think I've seen you go quiet like this in all the time I've known you." You teased, lightly brushing your foot against his ankle in a soft nudging gesture.

He jumped slightly at the touch but almost immediately returned it. "Yeah, yeah. You've never seen me get quiet, I've never seen inside that book of yours. I think we're even-" instantly pausing to lightly tap his chin, Leo offered a thoughtful hum. "Actually, wait. We aren't. You've seen me be quiet now which means..." he trailed off, waiting for you to catch on.

"Nope. That's not how this works, Leo." You reached forward and patted him on the cheek before looking over to your right for a moment, thinking to yourself.

Honestly you felt so amazed and lucky with the fact that you two had grown so comfortable with each other already. It was nice... different than what you were used to. Granted, what you were used to was hours of trying to force yourself to get along with people who didn’t actually want anything to do with you. You had dealt with many fake friends, but with Leo it was different. Things came naturally between you both.

Seeming as if he had rad your thoughts- or something, Leo offered you a sympathetic look and took one of your hands. , smoothing his thumb over the soft fur. "Did I lose you there for a second?" He inquired. You hadn't even noticed you were frowning until he had said that.

Blinking away the glazed look in your eyes, you quickly focused on him. "No, no. I'm here. I'm good. I just got stuck in some thoughts." You waved your hand at him in a silent way of saying "don't worry".

He instantly rose a brow and pulled his hands away, the warmth immediately being missed. "Riiiight. Well how about you show me what's in the book as a nice distraction?"

"Not a chance." You pursed your lips and shook your head, tapping your fingers on the hard wood tabletop.

"I'll see inside it some day."

That had you laughing. He was so insistent, and that seemed to be his favourite way of letting you know he still had hope for the answer to change.

Before either of you could say anything, his phone buzzing brought you out of the whole situation and he frowned instantly, quickly apologizing before taking his phone out and reading through the texts, quickly replying.

After that it only took few seconds for him to stand and offer you a slightly sad expression. "So..."

"You have to go?"

He nodded, not bothered that you had cut him off. "Yeah... my brother's said its important-"

"That's okay. We will see each other again." You said it like a promise and he couldn't help but smile in response, opening his mouth to respond when his phone buzzed again.

He checked it and then lolled his head back, a frustrated huff leaving him and then he was just gone, leaving you at the table alone... like always.

—

First , Next

#tmnt muse fic #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt c reader #leonardo hamato #leo x reader #rise leo #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt leo #rottmnt leonardo #rise leo x reader #fan fiction

53 notes · View notes

theharrowing · 2 years

Text

Collateral 🗡️ 8: The punishments that come to those who betray us

Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You.

But was it simply a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or has he always had his sights on you?

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

🗡️ Yoongi x Female Reader

🗡️ word count: 9k

🗡️ mafia au, strangers to lovers, graphic violence, major character injury, poly, smut, angst, fluff, nsfw, explicit 21+

🗡️ warnings: use of a knife as a weapon (lots of blood, finger slicing & throat cutting), rough vaginal sex (semi-public & in private)

🗡️ beta read by @neoneunnajimin

🗡️ posted july 2022 | read on ao3

When you gaze at your reflection in the mirror, eyeing yourself in a very flattering evening gown, you cannot help but wonder if it is really you staring back. The emerald green sleeveless column gown has a top layer of sheer lace with intricate embroidery and beading in swirling floral patterns. Rows of green satin fabric at your chest and hips keeps the dress elegant and tasteful, exposing your shoulders, midriff, and thighs.

Your hair is pinned up, twisted delicately from your nape and temples, and gathered in the back. Jimin has given you the smoky eye look you have come to expect, and he wraps a heavy gold Cuban link necklace around your neck.

"You will be on your feet all night, so I chose a low heel. And I have set aside a black faux fur jacket," Jimin informs. "Also, I know this is going to sound like some patriarchal bullshit, and I promise you it is not, but, once we get to the casino, you must not speak to anyone but us."

You scoff and meet Jimin's eye in the mirror. His small hands are on your shoulders, and he has a deadly serious look in his gaze.

"Listen, dove, I know you are a hardened bitch who lived in the streets and has killed a man. I love that about you, Yoongi loves that about you, and it is why we trust you as much as we do. But we do not trust the men who operate in and out of these places, and we do not know everyone who comes into these events. The Shins will undoubtedly have men present. You have to keep your pretty pout shut unless Yoongi says otherwise. Just for now."

You concede and nod your head in acceptance. Ordinarily, you prefer to observe quietly anyway, and considering how close you have been getting to Yoongi and a few of the others, the warning coming from Jimin feels welcome. There is a chance you may have begun to feel too comfortable at Yoongi's side already, and this does not exactly strike you as a world where anyone is meant to feel comfortable.

"Yoongi and Namjoon will be here shortly to pick you up. Is there anything more you need from me?"

Jimin stands tall behind you, giving your shoulders a squeeze. As always, he is breathtaking. His silver hair fans in delicate waves off his head, he wears black and silver eyeshadow around his pretty eyes and is dressed in a black satin shirt with the leather harness from Serendipity.

"I don't think so," you mutter with a smile, and Jimin smiles back.

"Good. We will see you there. Have fun, be safe, and if you happen to get separated from Yoongi, find one of us. I will try to have my eye on you all night."

You nod along and watch Jimin's reflection leave from behind you, then you stare at yourself for another moment before standing and approaching your bed for the shoes and coat that Jimin had set aside. As you slide your feet into the heels and run your fingertips over the black faux fur, you hear footsteps running up the stairs two at a time in a familiar rhythm, and you bite back a smile as you turn your head to the door.

Yoongi's hand grips onto the doorknob, and his arm extends wide as he pushes the door open. Your cheeks warm as his eyes rove over your body and widen, pulling his lips into a grin. He wears an emerald green satin shirt tucked into black slacks with a black tie, under a black fitted jacket. Resting over the tie is a similar necklace to the one you are wearing, and his hair is parted, exposing his forehead. And, if you are not mistaken, he appears to be wearing a little eyeliner, sharpening those feline-like features.

"Gorgeous," Yoongi mutters, holding out his free hand to beckon you. You grab the jacket and make your way to Yoongi, and he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close.

Yoongi twists the two of you and places his free hand against the doorframe just as your head comes gently into contact with it, and he presses his body into yours. You breathe in his musk and cologne and wrap your arms over his shoulders.

"Tonight is a big deal," Yoongi purrs, sending a shiver through you as his lips graze the shell of your ear. His hand snakes from your waist to your lower back, pulling your hips forward into his. "Try your best not to show too many of your teeth and you will be rewarded handsomely for your performance, my pretty little wolf."

You hum in response and tilt your face toward his, smirking when he backs up just enough to look you in the eye. "And are you the handsome reward I can expect?"

This makes Yoongi chuckle, and he rubs the tip of his nose against yours. "How did you know, darling?"

With a shy lift of your shoulders, you mutter, "Lucky guess."

The look in Yoongi's eye shifts from playful to dark, and he leans close to nip at your chin with his teeth, causing something in your tummy to swoop.

"God, I want to fuck you so bad," Yoongi groans, using the hand behind your head to instead grab onto the back of your neck.

All at once, your heart beats faster, and your lungs breathe deeper, causing you to feel dizzy. Yoongi continues to graze his teeth and lips down your jaw, sending flits of arousal to tickle between your legs, and you squeeze your thighs together in a fatal attempt to seek friction.

"Namjoon's waiting," Yoongi finally says, voice even and deep. He takes a step back and smiles shyly. "We should go before I tear you out of this dress and spoil this evening's plans."

House of Cards is a large casino and hotel in one of the most extravagant districts. It sits on the river and is surrounded by luxury apartments, hotels, and fine dining. From the outside, it looks like your standard flashy casino, though the bodyguards stationed out front tell you it may be a little more.

"Foreigners are not allowed inside without my approval, especially Americans," Yoongi mutters as he walks you on his arm through the entrance, and you nod your head at his words, wondering if it is standard practice for this side of town or something to do with other gangs, but Yoongi does not elaborate.

The main gambling hall is an overwhelming barrage of light and sound, with flashy, brightly colored machines blaring various jingles and noises, and men shouting over them. You are surprised when Yoongi escorts you into the front door and even more surprised still when you make your way through the crowded gambling hall to the center of the casino. From here, the space branches out into more sections, with a set of elevators to the left and a bar to the right.

And, of course, all eyes are on you. Though the atmosphere maintains a level of chaos around you, voices have lowered to whispers or nothing at all, and you do your best to keep your eyes ahead, surveying the area without meeting anyone's gaze. In the breast pocket of your jacket, Jimin has left a switchblade, and you cross your arms over your chest, feeling the weight of the weapon against your hand.

There is a group of men congregating in the dead center of the casino around a craps table, and Yoongi leaves your arm to step forward and talk to two of them. As soon as you are off Yoongi's arm, Namjoon is to your left, and another body is to your right, just behind you. Judging by how stiff he is, you assume it is Jeongguk, but you keep your eyes ahead.

Aside from Jimin's warning not to speak up, nobody has made any suggestion to you about how to act and present yourself in a scenario like this—being on the arm of the man who owns the city—but you have been in precarious scenarios before, and something in your mind switches on automatically.

You already surveyed the tables as you walked in, and directly behind you, spanning to the entrance, is a large floor of slot machines. Not the best environment to have directly behind you because there are so many moving parts, which explains Jeongguk, you assume, standing behind you.

There are men in suits at the edges of the space, and they all watched you walk by. Something tells you that they are continuing to watch you and Yoongi, and are possibly here with the suited men who stand ahead of you now.

At the bar to the right, as far as you can tell without turning your head, nobody seems to be watching except for the staff member behind the counter. The only other woman you have seen so far sits talking to three men, and all of their eyes seem to be on her.

Neither of the two men Yoongi speaks to turn their heads, but you can see a tenseness in their shoulders. When the conversation ends, and Yoongi turns back to you with a smirk, both men seem to sigh with relief.

Yoongi guides you to the left into a large set of elevators and taps a card against a magnetic box, gaining access to the lowermost level. Just as the elevator doors begin to close, Namjoon and Jeongguk enter, taking their places in front of you. They both wear black satin shirts tucked into black slacks, and matte black ties. Their shirts hang from their shoulders in a way that shows off quite a bit of muscle definition, and you think you can see the shapes of bulletproof vests on both of them.

"How does it feel being paraded around like a little pet?" Jeongguk asks, glancing over his shoulder.

You roll your eyes, looking ahead at the sliver of space between them, and mutter, "Lovely to see you too, Jeongguk."

Silence befalls the small compartment, and you continue to stare ahead at the backs of their shoulders, doing your best to block out Jeongguk's annoying attitude. Although you imagine Yoongi's request for you to keep your teeth hidden may not extend to his family men, Jeongguk is still the one person who riles you up the fastest, and you do not want to step out of the elevator in a bad mood. There is no telling who may be waiting on the other side.

As the elevator dings and the doors open, you are met first with the sound of hundreds of men shouting. As Namjoon and Jeongguk step forward and out of your direct line of sight, you see the room open up into a giant concrete space spanning the size of the casino, if not further.

Booths align the left and right walls with tellers behind thick glass windows where it appears men are placing bets. There seem to be entrances for staircases leading out of this space with armed guards standing before them to the left and right of the elevator, and men in suits mill about, creating a large circle of bodies that opens up in the center at the far end, like a mosh pit.

Yoongi tugs you around the mass of bodies to a locked door at the right side of the room, which is guarded by two men, and Yoongi types in a code, presses his thumb against a scanner, and lets one of the men shine a light into his eyes before the door opens to you, and the two of you step inside.

The room is a long, somewhat narrow space with burgundy carpeting, forest green suede chairs, and rich mahogany wooden accents, all attempting to class the place up despite the concrete walls at each side. All this room needs is string lights to look like a Christmas catalog vomited all over, and you scrunch your nose at the gaudiness of it all.

Hoseok and Seokjin are at the far end, leaning against a bar and chatting, and you make your way to them. The room curves to the left, and as you reach the corner, you find a massive glass window through which you can see into the main room. You do not remember being able to see into here from outside and assume it is a one-way window. At the far end, past the window, there appears to be another door.

Seated in front of the window are Jimin, the man he had with him at poolside yesterday, and Taehyung, who wears a simple black button-up tucked into black slacks. Your attention is tugged back toward the bar as Yoongi guides you toward it.

"What do you drink, darling?" Yoongi asks softly, leaning his head toward yours.

"Whatever you're having," you respond, glancing up to find Yoongi grinning.

As Yoongi makes his way around the bar, reaching for a bottle, you look around while removing your jacket and notice a pile of cocaine at the far end of the bar top, sitting atop a mirror, and you scoff. These men, you think, are absolutely ridiculous.

Speaking of the men, Hoseok looks sharp in a black satin modern hanbok top over tight black slacks, tied off at the waist to give his lithe body a beautiful hourglass shape. Seokjin, on the other hand, wears a simple black button-up tucked into simple black slacks, but his silver cufflinks and lapel pins give him a hint of elegance.

With a glass of neat whiskey placed into your hand, you turn back toward the window to find two men pulling their shirts over their heads and removing their belts. Both men look ridiculously jacked, covered in rippling muscle and bulging veins, and you already hate the thought of watching them brawl.

"So this is your little fight club?" you ask, laying the snark on thick. Your jacket is slung over your arm and you hug it close.

Hoseok and Seokjin chuckle, and Yoongi turns to you with wide, playful eyes.

"Why yes, darling, this is my little fight club. What do you think of it?"

You shrug and mutter, "Seems barbaric," as you pull the whiskey to your lips and take a sip. The liquid is smooth and heady, and it coats your tongue on the way down.

Yoongi leans in, and as his lips connect with the shell of your ear for the second time tonight, you feel your skin erupt with goosebumps. "That is because it is barbaric, my dear."

The two men fight in the center of the area that is carved out by the bodies of spectators. You can faintly hear the impact of fists on muscle and flesh through shouting voices, all of which are partially drowned out by the thick window.

You turn to Yoongi, whose eyes are glued on the men. "When you said bare-knuckle boxing I pictured more of an actual boxing ring. With padding and seats for us to lounge in and…anything but a large cement pit for them to fight in."

Yoongi nods slowly and smirks, turning his gaze at you to mutter, "How quaint," making you roll your eyes.

As the whiskey begins to hit your system, you realize you have not eaten anything in quite some time. You also realize, with one more glance around this space, that there most likely is not any food here. It dawns on you to curb your appetite by way of cocaine, but you cast the thought aside, choosing to wait until the men begin to partake. They will undoubtedly offer it to you, anyway, and you would rather not be the one who initiates.

Outside, the shouting grows louder, and you turn your head in time to see a large muscled body hit the concrete floor with a loud slap. The voices quiet as the men crowd the one who had fallen, and Jeongguk appears before the window, squatting down to check the man's pulse before he shakes his head.

Your breath hitches, interpreting that to mean the man is dead, but then Jeongguk stands and announces, "He's still breathing," and the room erupts into shouting once more.

Unsure what that means for the match, you continue to watch, feeling the air in the room shift into something heavy as Jeongguk lifts the man twice his size like a sack of potatoes and presses him into the glass window, slapping the guy in the face as if trying to wake him.

The man's back is splotched pink, and blood and sweat smear on the glass where he stands; you notice the man's head must be bleeding. Namjoon appears beside Jeongguk with a smirk so devious it makes your stomach drop, and he dumps a bottle of water onto the guy's head while Jeongguk continues to slap him.

First, the man's fingers twitch, then his head shakes, and as soon as he seems to be standing on shaky legs, Jeongguk steps away, and the spectators back up. The other man who had been fighting comes from out of the crowd, wraps his hand around the neck of the man who just woke up, and slams his forehead into his, sending the man's head crashing back against the glass with a loud thwack. Small but noticeable splatterings of blood paint the window, and you gasp in time with the impact.

"Why didn't the man just finish him while he was on the ground?" you ask, watching the conscious man beat the hell out of the barely conscious one who leans with wobbly limbs against the window.

When Yoongi doesn't respond, you turn to find him watching you with a grin. In the dim lighting, it appears as if dark pools are where his eyes should be, and the look sends a chill through you.

"There's no honor in killing a man who lies on his back, darling."

You feel frozen for several seconds, staring into the sharp gaze of a man who you have to remind yourself is far more dangerous than even you realize. You picture the man who died on his back beneath you as his blood pooled out, staining his white sheets.

"He is practically on his back against the glass," you finally respond, turning back to see the side of the man's face pressed into the window as his body is annihilated with strike after strike of fists and knees.

One final blow to the head cracks his skull, and you can hear the crunch and squelch made as his head splits open. Blood runs down the window, and as his body slides to the floor, you see no life behind his eye.

The room erupts into cheering, and small shoving brawls break out as the winner is declared. Namjoon whistles to calm the men, and when that does not quiet the many voices, Jeongguk pulls a small semi-automatic gun from the breast of his jacket and holds it in the air.

Your blood runs cold at the sight of baby-faced Jeongguk brandishing such a weapon with ease, and you wonder what else those hands have done. Despite his round doe-eyes and soft features, there is an air to Jeongguk that is absolutely terrifying, especially now.

"And now, for the main event," Yoongi mutters at the exact time and cadence as Namjoon, who shouts it to the crowd of men. You watch with wide eyes and take a long, slow swig from your whiskey, letting it burn your throat as it slides down. The dead man is still slumped against the glass.

The man who you saw yesterday with people crowded around him at Yoongi's pool comes walking out, and you watch as he removes his shirt and belt with a wide, almost sweet grin on his round face. He is much more muscular than the men who just fought, looking massive beside Jeongguk, who is his same height, and he looks handsome and rather kind. Too handsome and kind to be in a bare-knuckle death match in the basement of a casino.

"That pretty boy is Wonho," Hoseok states.

"You remember him from the house?" Yoongi asks, and you nod, keeping your eyes on Wonho.

Another man walks out, and you instantly feel anxious at the sight of him. He is smaller than Wonho, and despite having the appearance of a man who has beaten others to death with his bare hands, he does not look like he stands a chance on pure muscle mass alone. Sure, smaller men have come out of fights against larger men before, but this just feels unfair.

The man and Wonho circle each other, and you watch as the man blows a kiss at Wonho, causing something to flash behind Wonho's eyes that looks like a mix between surprise and hurt.

"And that man," Seokjin announces from the other end of the bar, "is Jisoo."

"He and Wonho used to be associates but Jisoo switched alliances," Yoongi clarifies. "And now they fight to the death."

You turn to Yoongi as you mutter, "Why?" and Yoongi shrugs, cocking an eyebrow.

"That is just how we do things, darling. If you turn your back on those you swore to protect and care about, that back gets a target painted onto it."

"But why make it into a show?" you find yourself blurting before you can stop it from happening. You hate the way your voice shakes. "Why turn it into a circus for other men to bet on?"

"Money, darling," Yoongi responds so nonchalantly it makes bile rise into your throat. "Everything is money."

You are frozen where you stand, staring at Yoongi, feeling all the affection you had for him moments ago evaporate into nothing. Yoongi must sense your inner struggle, but he does nothing to ease or admonish anything you are feeling. He simply stares back.

From behind Yoongi, Seokjin or Hoseok snort cocaine, and you blink from your reverie. Without saying anything to Yoongi, you step around him and approach the men, and when Hoseok offers you a rolled-up 50,000 won note, you hold it to your nose and skim the bottom of the cylinder along the edge of the cocaine, picking up as much as you can in one swift inhale.

When you turn back to Yoongi, his eyes are on you as he leans against the bar with his arms crossed over his chest. You say nothing and take your drink over to one of the garish green suede chairs in the section of the room that does not face the window, and you stare ahead at the wall.

"The show is about to start, darling," Yoongi calls playfully, and you glare in his direction. The amusement that tugs on his lips as he sing-songs, "You don't want to miss it!" makes you sick to your stomach.

Rather than humor Yoongi with a response, you readjust in your chair and turn away in time to see him snort from the cocaine pile from the corner of your eye. As the drug courses through you, you consider a myriad of things you want to say to Yoongi, and even consider standing up, walking out of the casino, and never seeing Yoongi again.

The sounds of shouting continue to echo through your ears, and you try to think of anything but the man's head splitting against the glass, but you cannot seem to find a distraction, and you finally rise to your feet and begin to walk toward the exit with your whiskey in hand.

It is Seokjin's voice that cuts through and grabs your attention. "Hey, dove! Just where do you think you are going?"

You do not turn around; you just shrug and shout, "Anywhere but here!"

But before you can reach the door, Hoseok is in view, and you are astounded by how he managed to reach you as quickly and silently as he had. For a split moment, you even allow yourself to wonder if perhaps Hoseok has devised a method of teleportation or is a practitioner of sorcery, but his warm hand on your arm pulls you from your thoughts.

"My, my, little dove, let's not do anything stupid," Hoseok says in a tone far deeper than you have ever heard his voice.

You yank your arm away and take a step back, glaring at Hoseok.

"Excuse me?"

"Come on, pretty, think about it," Hoseok croons sweetly. "You arrived on Yoongi's arm. If you walk out that door right now without him, do you know what those men will see you as?"

Seokjin approaches behind Hoseok, resting his chin on his shoulder. His arms wrap loosely around Hoseok's waist as his eyebrows raise, and he says, "A prize."

"A toy," Hoseok continues.

Seokjin does not miss a beat. "Leverage."

"Those men will eat you alive, and then, once they spit out your bones, they will dangle them in front of Boss Min's face," Hoseok says with a smirk.

"And you, my little pretty, will start a fucking war."

"Wh-why?" you ask, feeling a tremble go through you.

Hoseok tsks while cocking his head to the side, and there is a darkness in his eyes that makes you take another step back, gripping onto your whiskey glass with a shaking hand.

"You know exactly why. Don't pretend to be a dumb little lamb around me, pretty wolf."

Power. Greed. Those are the reasons, among others.

Of course, you know; you escaped these types of men time and time again. But none of those men led a mafia—at least, not that you are aware of.

Your head spins, and you search for something to say, but Yoongi cuts through your thoughts, crossing from the bar to the window, and shouting, "What the fuck is he doing!"

Seokjin is the first to turn and dash, then Hoseok, and you slip your feet from your heels, drop your jacket and run, eager to see what is happening. As you round the corner, you find Wonho lying on the concrete floor wearing only black slacks and bleeding from the head. Above him, Jisoo is being lifted by two men, and on one bloodied fist, he wears brass knuckles.

"How the fuck did he get that past security!" Yoongi shrieks.

There is a fury in Yoongi's eyes the likes of which you have never seen before, and it is absolutely horrifying. Outside the window, Jeongguk lifts his gun to Jisoo with a grin, but Yoongi pounds on the glass, getting his attention. Jeongguk lowers the gun without a second thought, and you wonder how many times Yoongi has given Jeongguk a command he cannot see, and which does not involve words. You are impressed with how well Jeongguk understands and obeys him.

In an instant, Yoongi's jacket rolls from his shoulders and hits the floor, and Namjoon is ushering people to the exit while pointing Jeongguk's gun at the crowd forcing men to cram into the staircases. Taehyung, Jimin, and Jimin's date leave the room you are in, and then both Taehyung and Jimin come into view through the window.

Taehyung rushes to Wonho while Jimin and Jeongguk take Jisoo and make the men who had been holding onto him leave. Yoongi exits through a door that Jimin and Taehyung went through, entering the cement room in a flash.

Yoongi is still rolling up his emerald sleeves by the time he reaches Jisoo, and in a swift motion, he punches the man in the gut, making you flinch from the sight. Jisoo groans and lurches forward, and both Jimin and Jeongguk throw him to his knees.

Jimin reaches for Jisoo’s hand—his right hand, which the brass knuckles are on—and holds it up, showing it to Yoongi. In a flash, Yoongi whips a switchblade from his pants pocket and holds it up to Jisoo’s pointer finger. Jisoo begins to thrash, and Jeongguk squats and head-butts him in the temple, then he and Jimin hold him steady by the shoulders.

From where you are standing, you cannot hear anything they are saying until Yoongi shouts, "Tell me!" and Jisoo begins to screech incoherently.

The knife in Yoongi's hand begins to slice at Jisoo's pointer finger, just above the brass knuckles, and you turn away, slamming directly into Hoseok's chest.

"Come, sweet little wolf, it is best that you watch what happens," Hoseok croons softly as he takes you by the shoulders and spins you toward the window. The press of Hoseok against your back is too close, feeling far too intimate, and it makes you shudder.

"Why," you mutter weakly, only now realizing that you are crying as your body shakes uncontrollably and warm tears streak down your face.

"Because you need to know the life you have signed up for," Hoseok responds.

"Because you need to know the punishments that come to those who betray us," Seokjin continues.

At Seokjin's words, your body trembles harder, and you feel ridiculous and embarrassed for being so afraid. You are not a scared little lamb, you tell yourself. You are a fucking wolf. This is not your first time seeing the blood of a man spilled from a blade, and it will not be your last.

You inhale deeply and do your best to relax in Hoseok's hold, and as the screams from Jisoo come through the glass, shaking you to the bones, you keep your eyes on Yoongi, who fully removes the first finger.

"One down, three to go," Hoseok sings into your ear.

As Yoongi holds up Jisoo's middle finger and begins to slice, the man's screams become gasps, and his entire body begins to heave as if he is deflating and inflating with each breath. Sweat pours from his forehead, and he shakes and sobs. Namjoon takes Jimin's place, and now, rather than having to hold him still, he and Jeongguk have to keep him from falling.

Jisoo is pulled to his feet, and his legs shake and bend beneath him, threatening to give out completely as Namjoon and Jeongguk anchor their arms beneath his armpits. Namjoon grips onto his chin and keeps his head from slumping forward, forcing him to look Yoongi in the eye. Yoongi smirks as he continues to slice.

"Please!" Jisoo finally screams, "I'll talk, I'll talk!"

Yoongi cocks his head to the side as if to say he is listening, and stops his movement with the blade partially through the finger while blood pours down his wrist, dripping onto the cement below. You wonder suddenly if this is why they all tend to wear black. You lament the possibility of the beautiful emerald shirt being sullied with the blood of this man.

"Shin sent me! Her m-men wanted me to rough your guy up and t-teach you a lesson! I wasn't planning on killing him, just w-wanted to bust up his pretty face, m-maybe knock out a f-few teeth!" Jisoo speaks desperately, falling over his words and skipping honorifics.

Yoongi just grins. "You knocked our boy out and likely gave him a concussion with a few swings. Had you not been stopped, you may have actually killed him. Was that not the intended goal?"

The blade begins to cut through Jisoo's finger once more, and the man squeals like a pig. "No! No, I swear!"

Yoongi throws Jisoo's hand, and his middle finger hangs on by a small strip of sinew. Before you can blink, the switchblade is at Jisoo’s throat while Yoongi's other hand is in his hair. Namjoon stands unfazed, still holding the man by the chin.

You are unable to hear what Yoongi is saying and find yourself stepping forward, out of Hoseok's loosened grasp and closer to the window. Yoongi's hand tightens in Jisoo’s hair, and you hear him spit, "Is that true?"

"No, no, it's not!" Jisoo cries, eyes squeezed shut as sweat pours down his face.

"So it's not true that you came into my ring with the intention of just bruising up one of my men, but ended up knocking him out in three blows because you are too fucking careless to follow a simple order? It's not true that all you have shown to both my house and Shin's house is your sheer fucking incompetence?"

"N-n-no, sir."

"Then what is the truth?"

"A m-mistake! Just a mistake! I didn't realize my own strength! All the men were shouting, and it pumped me f-f-f-full of adrenaline!"

Yoongi smirks and turns to the window. You know that he cannot see you, but that does not stop you from gasping when his gaze passes over you.

"A mistake?" He groans, turning back to Jisoo. "You couldn't even pass along the simple message that our dear Ryujin tasked you with?"

Yoongi licks over his top lip with a chuckle, then lets Jisoo go as he flips his bloodied switchblade closed. As Yoongi tilts his head to the ceiling and shoves the knife back into his pocket, Namjoon readjusts the man in his hold, wrapping both arms under his armpits as Jeongguk releases him and takes a step back, running his tattooed hand through his dark, wavy hair. Jisoo closes his eyes and lets out a deep sigh of relief.

Yoongi looks back at Jisoo and spits, "Wrong answer,” and in a flash, Jeongguk produces a knife seemingly out of thin air and reaches an arm around from behind Jisoo, slicing the man's throat open swiftly causing you to gasp and jump away from the window.

Blood pours from his neck, some spraying Yoongi's shirt, and Yoongi does not flinch. The sound of Jisoo gurgling on his blood followed by his body hitting the floor sends a shiver up your spine, and all at once, bile rises to your throat, and the room begins to spin.

You twist on bare feet and knock into Hoseok as you make your way back to the bar. Cocaine. You need cocaine.

The 50,000 won note is sitting atop the mirror, still loosely rolled into a cylinder, and you pinch the hollow ends between your thumb and pointer finger and tug on the loose flap of the bill until it is rolled taut again. With your nostril against one end, you lean forward and snort along the edge of the cocaine pile. As the bitter taste of the drug hits your throat, you inhale deeply, eager for the rush to pull you back to reality and help you clear your head.

Yoongi enters through the same door he exited from, fixing his sleeves as he walks toward the bar, and you rush to where he is and grip tightly onto his shirt, feeling all at once overcome with adrenaline and the overwhelming desire to fuck.

You are not sure why watching Yoongi and his men kill someone in cold blood suddenly has this effect on you—this is something you will need to unpack later, especially considering how afraid you felt mere moments ago. For now, all you care about is the gnashing of lips and teeth as you pull Yoongi close, moaning into his mouth as his body presses yours uncomfortably into the rounded edge of the bar counter.

"What is this for?" Yoongi groans against your lips.

Your fingers make quick work of unbuttoning his shirt, and as hints of pale skin become visible behind his tie, so do stains of blood. You curse your dress for being too constricting to allow your legs to spread for him and wrap one ankle around his to show you want him closer.

"Don't ask questions, just fuck me," you spit back, and Yoongi grins before deepening the kiss.

Around you, the men begin to shuffle out, and you hear teasing remarks from Jimin under his breath about how you may just have it in you to be a true mafia wife after all. The thought has your blood simultaneously freezing and boiling, and you cannot tell where you stand or how you actually feel about that prospect. All you can decipher is lust and need.

Yoongi grips onto your hips and spins you around, pushing you into one of the suede-topped bar stools, and you lean forward against it, holding onto it tightly to get your bearings and catch your breath. In a swift movement, Yoongi gathers your skirt and shoves it up around your hips, making you gasp.

Your panties are pushed aside, and one hand grips onto your neck, pulling you into a partially standing position. You grab onto the stool that is against your hips as Yoongi drives his cock into you, harshly and without preparation.

The sharp pain of the abrupt stretch is exactly what you need, and you cry out from the intense pleasure that washes over you as Yoongi sets a punishing pace and fucks you hard. Musk mixed with cologne mixed with the brassy, fleshy scent of blood fills your senses and makes you dizzy, and as Yoongi's cock plunges into you, all you can think about is earth-shattering bliss that can only come from the hands of a monster.

You picture Yoongi's smirk as he held the knife to the man's throat and Jeongguk's tattooed hand as he sliced the man open with practiced ease. You picture the way Namjoon held onto him with a look of stern indifference and tossed him down to the concrete once he was dead.

The power they hold. The ruthlessness in their actions. The way they seem totally and completely untouchable.

The pleasure builds and builds until suddenly, orgasm rips through you, and you cry out as Yoongi pounds into you, easing you down against the stool and releasing your throat so he can use both hands to grip your hips and piston into you even harder.

You do not want to think of the ramifications of these feelings or even about what comes next when you have to straighten out your dress and join the rest of the men in the casino. You do not want to know what killing Shin's man will mean for the family or even whether Wonho is okay.

All you want to focus on is Yoongi.

Yoongi's cock.

Yoongi's power.

Yoongi's ability to make others bend to his will and his ability to snap them in half if they will not give.

As another orgasm crashes over you, Yoongi grips onto the back of your neck once more and calls you a good girl and tells you that you are all his and that you are so good for him. As he fills you with his cum, Yoongi reminds you not to forget your place—reminds you that you, too, are capable of becoming what he is. And as his cum drips from your pussy, all you can do is tremble and whimper and ride out your high.

From behind you, you hear a long exasperated sigh, and you whip your head around to find Jimin standing in the shadows near the doorway, filing his fingernails. You attempt to stand and cover yourself, but Yoongi is still slowly pulling out, and he does not seem concerned.

"You still have to make an entrance upstairs," Jimin complains. "Now I have to fix your hair and makeup. And try to cover your sex stench."

"Keep the stench," Yoongi grumbles as you stand and twist your body, pushing your dress back down. He runs a hand through his dark, sweaty hair and smirks as he continues. "Let them all know she's mine."

Jimin picks up his black case from the floor, kicks from the wall, and approaches, rolling his eyes with a scoff.

"Sure, alpha wolf, you have left your mark on her; we get it."

You cannot take your eyes off of Jimin as he swishes his hips looking wholly inconvenienced despite the glimmer of mirth in his eye. He approaches and sets his case on the bar, then snaps open the metal clasps and begins pulling out pots and sticks of makeup.

"Luckily for me, Yoongi opted to grab your neck rather than mess up your hair," Jimin purrs with a smirk, and you lift your hands to cover your neck, only for him to swat them away.

Once Jimin has you and Yoongi looking respectable and not like you have just fucked after watching a man die, Yoongi leads you on his arm back up to the main floor of the casino and walks straight to the bar. Men stop and turn to watch the two of you, many of whom whisper to one another, and you do not miss the way Jeongguk and Namjoon stare men down to make them mind their goddamn business.

Yoongi seems to be mingling with some of the men at the bar, but you are unable to overhear what they are muttering about, and nobody addresses you. Jimin's warning plays through your mind, and you keep your face straight and gaze at the various shelves of liquor behind the bar.

With a glass of champagne in hand, Yoongi leads you further through the casino, up two flights of stairs, to a small banquet hall on a mezzanine that overlooks most of the gambling floor. Catering staff brings out a buffet of food, and all the family men except for Taehyung join you. Jimin's mystery boy is also in tow.

The hall has the same vibes as the room you were in down in the basement, with green suede seats, carpeting with burgundy and gold designs, and dark wood accents. Rather than cement slab walls, there are floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the casino, and along the rest of the walls is dark wood wainscoting below creamy yellow wallpaper. Brass sconces and chandeliers light the space, giving it an off-yellow glow.

You ditch your heels and jacket on a chair and pick at the trays of vegetables, cheese, and crackers while Yoongi overlooks the casino through the large glass windows by Jeongguk's side. You watch the two of them, curious about their dynamic. Yoongi has to look up just slightly into Jeongguk's eye when they speak, and you remember him saying he took Jeongguk in when he was a teenager, making you wonder if Jeongguk was shorter than him back then. The thought makes you smile.

Directly across from you, on another second-story mezzanine, a dark room lit with bright flashing rainbow lights shows what appears to be the nightclub that had just opened, and you begin to notice silhouettes of people dancing.

Your eyes fall back to Yoongi, who says something to Jeongguk that makes him turn and laugh. Jeongguk's cheek rises so high it turns his eye into a crescent moon, crinkling the skin around it. Never have you seen him look so soft and happy, and you chuckle to yourself over how uncanny the visual is.

"Enjoying yourself?" a deep voice asks from your right, and you turn and tilt your head to Namjoon, who stands beside you, facing ahead.

You hum and turn to grab another slab of cheese and cracker, then face Namjoon. "I prefer this to death matches."

Namjoon faces you, and his eyes flash with a sharp darkness before they soften. You can tell he is trying to keep the edges of his lips from tugging upward as he asks, "Are you sure about that?"

You look away, feeling your face heat up, and you shove the cheese and cracker into your mouth, distracting yourself momentarily with the loud crunch as your teeth sink in. Above the sound of chewing is a light chuckle, and you turn your gaze back to Namjoon with wide eyes and half of the food still held up to your lips, giving him an expression that begs the question of just what the fuck is so funny.

"It's fine," Namjoon mutters as he leans toward you. "It turns me on, too."

You gasp and swat Namjoon against the chest with the back of your hand, and he grabs the spot to feign being in pain despite definitely having a bulletproof vest on. Your mouth is still full of partially chewed cheese and cracker when you mutter, "Shut the fuck up!"

Namjoon chuckles and his eyes watch you as you hold a hand over your mouth and attempt to chew and swallow while laughing. There is something different in the way he looks at you, but you are not sure if that is just how he looks at everyone he has begun to warm up to, so you push it aside and try not to overthink it.

From the corner of your eye, you watch Yoongi approach, and you grab your half-empty glass of champagne, drinking down the rest to wash away the remnants of food in your mouth. Part of you wants to ask him to go to the other side of the floor and dance in the new nightclub, but you are not sure what he is doing anymore and if it is related to business, so you let the thought go.

You realize that you feel antsy. It could be the lack of cocaine in your system, which has become adjusted to the feeling of being high. That is the part about drugs you hate the most—although you do not feel a long-term need to have drugs in your system, there is always a window during and after the comedown where you want more, to the point of feeling agitated without it.

"Is Namjoon being a menace?" Yoongi asks, resting his hands on his hips. He does not wear his suit jacket, and you can see a splattering of blood on the lapels and chest of his emerald shirt from this close.

"Always," you respond, giving Namjoon a playfully annoyed glance.

Yoongi turns to Namjoon and reaches up to adjust his tie. With a devious smirk, looking Namjoon in the eye, Yoongi says, "Yes, I'm afraid Namjoon is quite the troublemaker. But that is why we love him."

There is a palpable tension in the air as they look each other in the eye, and then it is dissolved as soon as Yoongi's fingers release Namjoon’s tie and he turns back to you.

Yoongi leans in, touching his forehead against yours, and says, "The last event of the night will begin shortly. Does my lady require more cocaine?"

You roll your eyes and consider shoving Yoongi away. You do not require more cocaine, but you would like some more to take the edge off. Semantics.

Without waiting for your response, Yoongi wraps an arm around your waist and leads you further into the banquet space, away from where everyone is congregated. There are large wooden doors at the far end, which you think must lead to whatever hallway connects this room and the one across the way with the nightclub.

To the left of the large doors is a smaller door, and Yoongi opens it and switches a light on, revealing a coat closet. You look around nervously, waiting for Yoongi to pull out his metal drug vial, but instead, he takes you by the hand and meets your eye with a nervous smile.

"I wanted to run this by you before doing it publicly," Yoongi mutters, rubbing your hand with his thumbs. The movement makes you anxious, and you pull your hand away and place it on his chest, instead. Yoongi's fingers continue to fidget without your hand there.

"Things are moving faster than I hoped, and I need to find a new angle to make Ryujin understand that I am not fucking around."

You try to parse Yoongi's words, watching as he sighs and screws his face up, thinking through what he is trying to tell you.

"She sent someone in to do more than just bust up Wonho and send a message," Yoongi continues, "and there is no telling what she might do next." He shifts on his feet nervously, and his eyes will not stay in one place. It does not appear to be the effect of cocaine, either; this looks like genuine anxiety.

"Yoongi," you say, hearing the uneasy tremble in your voice. "Spit it out, baby. What are you trying to say?"

Yoongi clears his throat and looks you in the eye, bringing both hands up to your chin. "I need to go out there and propose to you. And I need you to say yes. Can you do that for me, darling?"

You hold your left leg spread as Yoongi fucks you so hard against the mattress, all you can do is whimper mostly muted sounds and heave in deep breaths. Your right leg is hooked around Yoongi's arm, and your right arm is pinned under his hand.

This position sends you hurtling toward an orgasm, and the slight sting of soreness from being fucked roughly at the casino only adds to the building pleasure. Yoongi's eyebrows are knitted as if he is angry, and he lets out deep, raspy whimpers the closer he is to finishing.

"You like how I pound your tight little pussy, baby?" Yoongi growls, and you nod your head and whimper a weak, "Uh-huh."

"What was that?" Yoongi spits, glaring even more.

"Y-yes, sir," you respond in a high-pitched whine.

"Yes, sir, what?"

Your mouth falls open, and you fumble over your words. "Ah—I love how you fuck me, sir!"

Yoongi hooks your left leg around his left arm and leans forward, spearing you on his cock even deeper, and you roll your eyes back as your pleasure builds.

"Good," Yoongi growls. "Cum for me again, baby."

All it takes are a few well-timed squeezes of your pussy around Yoongi's cock, and your orgasm crescendos along with your moans and whimpers. You tremble and continue to squeeze Yoongi as bliss overcomes you like a weighted blanket, pressing you into the bed and turning you into a pliant mess for Yoongi to fuck as he pleases.

Yoongi's hips stutter, and he moans loudly as he cums, pressing his cock deep into you as he fills you with his release. Once his thrusts slow to a stop, Yoongi waits to pull out, but he slowly lets your legs down.

"Your pussy is so perfect," Yoongi groans. All you can do is smile in return as you pant and attempt to catch your breath.

Sweat beads down Yoongi's neck, and you let your gaze wander to his pale chest, splotched with pretty reds from pleasure, as well as stains left behind from Jisoo’s blood. As you reach up to caress his face and pull him in for a kiss, the glimmer of a huge 14-carat diamond ring catches your attention and makes your breath hitch.

It all comes back in a flash: Taehyung appearing with a smiling, bruised and bloody Wonho, approaching Yoongi, and slipping a Tiffany and Co. box into his pocket. More men in suits arriving shortly after talking about investments and business proposals.

And finally, Yoongi, getting down on one knee and causing such a stir, folks from down in the casino noticed. Your hands flew over your mouth at the sight of the ring, and you were stunned to silence until a curious lift of Yoongi's eyebrows brought you back to reality.

"It's just a business move," Yoongi had assured you while standing in the coat room, convincing you to agree to his plan. "Assuming you do actually want to marry me down the line, we will wait until you feel ready. I do not want you to feel rushed."

Although it is nothing more than a strategic move, you cannot help but look at the ring and feel a swell of affection. You wonder if you really would want to marry Yoongi one day. Becoming a mafia wife feels like an intimidating prospect, but mafia bullshit aside, you are starting to have real feelings for Yoongi.

Yoongi must notice you staring at the ring and chuckles somewhat darkly, pulling you from your thoughts. "You don't have to wear that thing while at home," he says curtly, nodding his chin toward the blue box on your nightstand. "Keep it in there. You only need to wear it when we leave the house."

Your stomach drops, and you nod your head, looking away from Yoongi's face to a spot on his chest. He is probably tired and, consequently, being a little too blunt, you reason.

And anyway, it is not a real engagement. So why do you feel the urge to cry?

Yoongi pulls his cock out slowly and leans down, placing a kiss on your forehead. The usual smile that accompanies a press of his lips on your skin is missing, but you smile anyway, still not looking him in the eye.

"I have a long day tomorrow so I'm going to go get some sleep," Yoongi mutters.

You nod again before finding your voice and saying, "Okay. H-have a good night."

It is strange that Yoongi pulled you into your room to fuck as soon as the two of you came home, and although you hate the thought of sleeping alone, you feel like it must have been intentional, so you do not ask to join him. Yoongi leaves your room in the nude with his clothes still strewn about your floor and bed, and closes the door behind him.

A large breath comes out of you in a sigh, and you relax your limbs and close your eyes. Then, realizing you should not just fall asleep atop your comforter dripping with cum, you sit up to get ready for bed and yank the stupid engagement ring off, tossing it onto the bed beside you. The damn thing is too fucking heavy, anyway.

Demon under the table, 말을 걸고 Demon under the table, talking to you

Risk it, risk it, risk it, till the last dime

🎵 visit the playlist

please don’t be a silent reader! feedback & reblogs do so much to help content creators!

tag list: @btsiguess-kpop, @btsstan12, @dasexydevitt13, @giriiboyy, @illnevertrustmyselfagain, @leanimal90, @likeshatteredrainbowglass, @mayeolorie, @mwitsmejk, @sleepilysworld, @stocking221, @svgahigh, @valhallawhispers 🗡️ comment or dm to be added! if your name is italic, i can’t tag you!

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

#btswritersclub #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #bts smut #bts mafia #fic: collateral

362 notes · View notes

imagobin · 2 months

Note

heyyy!! can u do headcanons of dragon king x a nine tailed fox reader?? thanks in advance!!

Of course! Always a pleasure to write more about Dragon King! Sorry this took a bit- school eugh, but heck yeah, a nine tailed fox sounds adorable! Hope you enjoy this!

The Kitsune banner is NOT my art, it's by Nicolas Rix

🌊Dragon King x Nine Tailed Fox!Reader HCs🌊

Look into the water:

It was a very sunny day, and you were just running and having fun by yourself on the beach in your humanoid form, just being yourself and enjoying the sun rays, unaware that someone was looking at you from the water.

Dragon King was immediately entranced by your beauty. He didn't understand why or how this happened, but your white fur and your fluffy tails had his heart beat fast. He can't deny that as much as he despises the sunlight due to his sensitive skin, he absolutely loves how your fur looks in the sun.

He tried to get closer to you by swimming up to the shore, his iridescent scales reflecting the light of the sun, in a way that instantly caught your attention. This... was not really in his plans, he wanted to make some big entrance, and instead he panicked when he saw you make your way near the sea.

You looked into the water to inspect what was so sparkly in it, and to your surprise, you saw a pair of eyes looking right back at you. You started screaming, and Ao Guang did too, and then began to apologize for startling you. He was a bit embarrassed that his plan to act cool had been totally foiled, but his curiosity in you did not subside.

After that awkward start, you two did manage to have a somewhat normal first conversation though. The Dragon King was surprisingly quite the charming man, funny, and also extremely pompous... you liked that.

I want you by my side:

It really didn't take a long time for you two to start dating, even if at first it was a little awkward since you lived on land and he couldn't stay out of the water for very long unless he was inside a bath, which made things... awkward.

Still, you two persevered. Ao Guang really wanted you specifically to date him, and (although he wouldn't tell you yet) he was also hoping you'd be willing to rule the Eastern Sea with him.

He can't do much for his skin condition, but you do have shapeshifting powers as a nine tailed fox, so you began practicing to do one specific thing: making your body better suited to stay underwater.

You started with learning to shapeshift gills so you could breathe underwater, and then also make your fur hydrophobic, so you wouldn't feel weighed down by the water!

When you showed Dragon King what you'd learned to do, he almost teared up, and dramatically began fanning his face to calm himself down keep himself from getting emotional. This truly meant the world to him. Now you two could finally stay closer for so much longer!

Some fluff:

Dragon king absolutely loves cuddling with you. Your fur is just so nice to brush his fingers through, and your nine tails make for the PERFECT blanket!

Kisses are great, but the specific thing that gets him all giddy is booping your fox nose with his! The feeling of that small action never fails to make him giggle.

One other thing that makes him go absolutely crazy is whenever you place your paw/hand on his chest and nuzzle his neck fur. Every time you do that, Ao Guang just wishes you'd never stop laying on him like that.

Dragon King also loves your big, soft ears; he likes to be cheeky and lightly brush his finger on them to see you instinctively flick them. Some other time he will instead give you gentle scritches behind them, and that always feels so wonderful.

He definitely loves getting you gifts too; they're always very expensive because he's a king, he can definitely afford it! Jewelry of any kind, beautiful clothes, expensive food, he can get it all for you.

#ao guang #dragon king #monkey king 2023 #netflix monkey king #the monkey king #monkey king #monkey king headcanon #dragon king x reader

9 notes · View notes

allthelittlecreepycrawlies · 10 months

Text

Originally another thread for @grtr3's little sangyaoFES, this one got even more heavily edited than the other, with a whole ending added and such. Could be read as a prequel to A Second Glance

Title: The Golden Cure

Ship: pre-SangYao

Tags: Sickfic, Mostly Fluff, Author Has Nothing Witty This Time

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

His new sect leader had warned him that of all the sect territories, Qinghe Nie's was the coldest when winter hit.

Staring out at the heavy piles of snow as he shivered, Meng Yao thought that Nie Mingjue had still managed to undersell just how cold it could be this far north.

Well, there was nothing else to be done for it. He'd lit both of the censers that had come with the room, had worn the warmest of the clothing he'd taken from the disciple stores he’d been shown, and was wrapped in the heaviest of the blankets he'd been provided.

And still he shivered.

He turned his attention back to his desk, trying to concentrate on the day's unfinished records, but it was only a matter of moments before another set of harsh, chest rattling coughs escaped his mouth.

"Here."

Blinking through watering eyes, Meng Yao found a little golden bear on a stick being held in front of his face.

"What is it?" he asked, hating how rough and alien his voice sounded.

"It's made of salted jin ju paste and honey. It'll help with the pain in your throat," Nie Huaisang said as he laid down a tea tray with more of the bears sticking out of a jar and a pot of tea that had a strong smell of xiangcheng fruit.

Meng Yao took the stick, eyeing the golden bear a little warily, then popped it into his mouth.

The taste wasn't bad. He could see using these for flavoring tea on occasions.

He watched as Nie Huaisang poured them both full cups, and then took notice of the faint tremor in his hands and how pale he was.

Oh.

Now he remembered overhearing his sect leader discussing winter preparations with the head of the infirmary hall, and one of the topics had been supplies for when his younger brother’s health took a dive "like it does every winter."

Which meant Nie Huaisang probably knew about all kinds of remedies and treatments for bad weather illness from personal experience.

Reassured, he simply rested his too-heavy head on his hand, letting the honey bear slowly melt in his mouth.

"This is your first northern winter, isn't it?" Huaisang asked as he set a steaming cup in front of him.

"Mm-hmm."

"Ouch, and with this one predicted to be especially harsh, too. On the bright side, with how hard you've been working, you should have your core built up enough that next winter will hardly touch you."

Meng Yao took the bear out of his mouth to speak. "If that's the case, why are you so adamant about not improving yours?"

Huaisang rolled one shoulder in a little half-shrug. "Most of my health issues are things I was born with. And some of them a core just can't fix unless I were to break all the way through to immortality."

A fair point, though it made Meng Yao a little morose about his own training goals. He rather hoped that the pain from cold spearing into injuries that had never fully healed wouldn't be on the list of things a stronger core couldn't fix.

"Then I will defer to your medical knowledge,” he said instead of any of those thoughts, pushing his uncertain feelings down deep.

Nie Huaisang snorted, amused. "Medical knowledge, he says. All I know is the stuff healers do to make picky kids not complain about how bad medicine tastes."

Still, the honey bear was helping soothe the roughness all the coughing had left in his throat. "It's good advice all the same. Thank you."

Nie Huaisang grinned at the praise, then motioned to the tea cup he'd set out. "Once you finish a couple of bears and the tea, we're heading to storage to get you some proper fur blankets, okay? Then I'm going to order you some heavier robes. Though… actually…"

Meng Yao looked up, not liking the frown on Nie Huaisang's face as he tapped his cheek in thought. "Gongzi?" he asked hesitantly around the honey bear.

"You should have had winter clothing and blankets given to you already. Didn't one of the quartermasters talk to you?"

He could tell the truth; that when he’d picked up his first allotment of supplies on being brought to the Unclean Realms, the man who’d handed them over had snidely implied that it was all the generosity he’d be getting from the sect, and anything more would be coming out of his pay.

While no one had actually made good on that threat, they'd given him enough runaround that he'd learned to stop requesting anything months ago.

He could say so. Nie Huaisang would believe him.

He could-

No.

No, he wasn’t going to do that.

Bad enough that there were some who mockingly accused him of hiding behind the sect leader; he didn’t want to give them any ammunition to use against his tentative relationship with the young master as well.

He bit the last little part of the melted bear off the stick and laid it down. “Things have been busy. We probably just missed crossing paths,” he said.

“Hrm… If you say so,” Huaisang murmured, still looking dubious. “Alright, then. Next time you need something, come to me first, got it?”

“Your brother already disapproves of your spending, gongzi. Won’t he get angry?”

“He complains about inks or aviary supplies, he can’t complain when I’m making sure his best aide doesn’t spend the whole season sick because he’s not been equipped for the weather.”

A fair point.

He still probably shouldn't be allowing this. While it wasn't the same as Nie Huaisang pulling heir rank on his behalf, everyone in the sect knew he wouldn't personally go commissioning clothing and such for just anyone.

Ah, but that particular ship had already sailed, evidenced by the braids and guan in his hair.

(And the little custard cakes that appeared like magic in his desk drawer on occasion, but no one knew about those besides the two of them.)

And… honestly… a part of him enjoyed the fact that his young master saw him as someone he wanted to spoil. Someone his young master would make the effort for.

He smiled as he reached for the next bear on a stick Nie Huaisang held out to him.

"Very well. I accept your offer."

#mdzs #cql #mostly cql #sangyao #nie huaisang #jin guangyao #fanfic

14 notes · View notes

disorganizedkitten · 3 months

Text

You'll Survive Chapter 1

Miraculous Ladybug | 2018 | 820 | Ao3 | Masterlist | Next

Growing up and leaving the nest is hard, but being with friends lightens the blow. Unless you are Chloe Bourgeois, in which case you have to make friends to help pull that weight. Or maybe you already have some, you just didn’t think of them.

Chloe slung her purse over her shoulder, intent to meet up with her roommates and convince them that she’ll be a good housemate.

She had been trying a little better to be nice, with Pollen’s help of course, but it was hard. Hard enough that most of the people she had been paired with for rooming had been overly hostile and happy to get her out of the house. If this set didn’t work out, she’d probably just have to get her own place. That wasn’t a problem, but she really wanted to make a friend. At least one!

It was lonely without Sabrina, but Chloe wanted her friend to be happy, and that meant letting the redhead follow her own dreams.

Chloe started up the concrete stairs, breathing deeply so she didn’t freak out. This should not make her this nervous.

It shouldn’t!

She started counting doors as soon as she reached the top. E7, E9, F1, F3, and finally, F4. Oh heckle she was here. “Wish me luck Pollen,” she breathed quietly, reaching her hand into the purse she carried the Kwami around in.

“You can do it Chloe! I believe in you! Besides, thirteenth time’s the charm, right?”

“I hope you’re right.”

Chloe pulled her hand away from Pollen’s comforting fur and knocked. Thirteenth time’s the charm.

“Race you!” sound erupted from the apartment, giggles, yells, and a bang on the door from that side.

“Hey!”

“I win!”

“I was a room farther away!”

“Oh sure you were ‘miss faster than a cat,’” the door swung open as the second voice grumbled. “Hello- Chloe?”

Chloe froze. “Alya?”

“Yeah, actually. What’s up?”

Marinette poked her head over Alya’s shoulder, eyes wide. “Is this a you-know-what emergency?”

“No, um, I’m supposed to be doing a roommate interview here?” Chloe didn’t sound as confident as she hoped. But, this was Alya and Marinette. Two of her superpowered teammates. How bad could it be?

Marinette’s face lit up at her words. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re accepted,” Marinette said, not even pausing to consider anything.

“She is?” Alya asked, turning to her friend.

“I am?” Chloe parroted. That, was fast.

Marinette waved Chloe inside and dragged Alya over to a couch. The apartment was small, but obviously decorated by the two. The decor was an easy mix of Creolian, Chinese, and French, with pink and white furniture and framed pictures of Alya, Marinette, and their friends and families.

“Would Pollen like a snack?” Marinette asked, moving over to the small kitchen and digging through a container.

“Yes please!” Pollen replied, poking her head out of Chloe’s purse.

Marinette dropped a couple things on a tray and brought it over to the living room’s small table, carefully moving a stack of papers over so it could fit.

“Chloe, are you joining us?”

“Sure,” Chloe moved over to sit down on the edge of the couch, feeling less apprehensive.

Marinette sat down in between Alya and Chloe, opening her purse to let her own Kwami, Tikki, out. Tikki moved over to the tray and picked up a cookie, waving Pollen over. Pollen hugged Chloe’s arm encouragingly before moving over to her fellow.

“Right, why are we taking her in Marinette?” Alya asked, as her orange Kwami, Trixx, joined Tikki and Pollen on the snack tray.

“Chloe, do you want to convince her or do you want me too?” Marinette asked cooly.

“Um,-”

“See, she doesn’t even have a reason,” Alya cut in.

“Okay, Alya, why not?”

Alya scowled, but didn’t answer.

“I promise I’ll pull my weight, and I already know about Kwami and Miraculous, so you don’t have to worry about those, and I,” Chloe paused and looked at Pollen for encouragement.

Pollen brushed some crumbs off her fluff and floated up a little bit. “With Sabrina doing that Genius school in Britain, we need someone to stay with. It’s no fun being friendless.”

Alya’s scowl turned into a frown. “That, I can agree with. Okay.”

“See? All good, and Chloe’s a much better roommate than some stranger. Let me grab the papers,” She stood up and dashed down a short hallway to another room.

“Sorry about that Chloe,” Alya said, quietly. “I know you’re not the same person you were then, but it’s harder for me to accept than it should be. Marinette, the girl’s kindness incarnate and is happy you are. I’m happy you’re breaking out of your Mother’s shadow, please don’t doubt that, but first impressions leave a, well, an impression.”

“That’s okay. I’m glad you’re letting me prove myself to you.”

“Always. You’ve helped us fight against a worse evil than you ever were, just know that sometimes I’ll be rude out of context.”

“Considering how many times I was to you, just for the fun of it, go ahead.”

“Teammates?” Alya asked, holding out a hand.

“Roommates,” Chloe corrected, taking it.

“Friends,” Marinette added, coming back into the room.

#Dang I really was pro-chloe redemption there for a while huh #prior to the queen trio episodes I was here for her #And now I want to do it again but out of spite not optimism #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain-cheng #chloe bourgeois #alya cesaire #jaymeow writes #Fluff Month 2018 #Multichapter #You'll Survive Fic #Crossposting spam #old writing

3 notes · View notes

xansmenagerie · 10 months

Text

"Couldn't, you know, just try to kick me or something?"

I stared at the fox, unamused.

"Look man," it said desperately, "It's not that I enjoy being abused but, you know, this is weird as hell."

I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. "I can't help it that I grew up a decent human," I tried very hard not to growl. The fox was giving me a headache.

"But that's the point!" the fox wailed. "You've got two younger siblings! You're not meant to be a decent human being!"

"I guess I got lucky with parental expectations?" To be fair to my two little brothers, neither of them was exactly terrible - Tonno was a mischief and Berto couldn't be trusted around jam - but I'd definitely had a good dose of the old "eldest child gets the most discipline" stick and good behaviour was fairly well ground-in at this point.

The fox paced across the path in some agitation, carefully stepping around the snare I'd only just freed it from. I refrained from pointing out that unless I reset it the snare was safe just in case the fox starting begging me to do so to prove I was evil underneath or some other rubbish.

It abruptly stopped, ears and tail flagged. "How about...do you think your parents could be persuaded to adopt? A couple of cubs older than you would do the trick!"

"It still wouldn't make me a youngest son," I replied as evenly as possible. The fox opened its mouth and hurriedly continued, "And no, I'm not going to suggest getting them adopted either, and fratricide is definitely out."

I'd never considered just how droopy a sad fox could get. Even its fur flattened.

I took a deep breath, bitterly regretting paying any attention to the "Missing Prince" notice I'd seen in the town square. "Okay. If it would help, and we're not talking about this to anyone especially my parents right now or so god help me you will regret it, I...might not be an eldest son. I'm still thinking about it. But a kindly daughter or daughter-adjacent who happens to have some younger siblings of a different gender doesn't exactly break the rules, does it?"

The fox went from floppy sad mess to enthusiastic fluff in less time than a rubber ball takes to bounce. "Is that true? That's great!" it cried, "We can work with this!"

It started gaily trotting off ahead of me; I grabbed my bag and did my best to catch up, especially when it carolled back, "I'll come with you to clear up any little misconceptions with the other talking animals, you'll be fine!"

At that point, kicking the fox started to feel like a great idea...

#writeblr #writblr #ficlet #fairy tale #I felt bad for dissing older siblings in the last one and this happened

5 notes · View notes

sparrowmoth · 2 years

Text

Grey Skies Move Slowly • [AO3]

Teen | 1.6K | Jaylos, Malvie | Vampire AU, Fluff & Angst, Bittersweet

A/N: This work is part of the Forever and a Night series and may be difficult to follow if you haven't read the two preceding oneshots.

CW: Mentions of blood and some swearing

Lately, Carlos hadn’t been himself—which wasn’t fair to say since he was himself, as a fact, even in this small aspect. Maybe, then, it was less that he wasn’t himself and more that, to Jay, he felt as far as he could be without leaving. Not to sound accusing, since it wasn’t his fault and Jay wasn’t even mad. He just missed the Carlos who had a smile bright as the sun, making Jay not even think when was the last he’d seen the daylight. He missed the Carlos with arms to hold him when they laid down, chests pressed together, nose-to-nose—

Jay broke from his glum thoughts at the feeling of Carlos starting to quiver. He was a small thing in Jay’s hands, held close to his heart; his dandelion-puff fur stood out starkly in the dim light, but his little pink wings and mouse-like face were well hidden from view.

“…’Los?” Jay murmured, gently running a thumb over Carlos’ back.

He received no response and the quivering didn’t stop, so he stood carefully from where he’d been sitting in the bay window of their bedroom and made his way—very slowly—to the middle floors.

There was the sound of a woman with a phantom’s voice echoing out of a large room they had stuffed with couches and pillows. It was the closest thing they had to a “living room” in the castle, and just as Jay expected, Mal was sitting in her usual spot on a deep red velvet chesterfield with some old, dead witch’s grimoire in her lap.

She glanced up when she saw him, already quirking an eyebrow.

“If I didn’t know any better,” she started drily, in lieu of a greeting, “I’d think the two of you were glued together.”

Jay said nothing to that as he crossed the room to join her.

She’d tried a moment to feign disinterest, but his silence was grating on her nerves and she couldn’t stand the way he was just hovering.

“You can sit,” she told him with a jerk of her head toward the space beside her. “I won’t bite you.” She smirked. “Unless I get hungry.”

Still, Jay said nothing, and there was none of his usual spark of wit or even annoyance. He just looked sad and a little lost and, frankly, Mal didn’t think she was the best person to be dealing with it, but…

She sighed. “So, you still don’t believe me?”

Jay, who’d taken a seat, just glanced at her sidelong, like he didn’t know what she meant—which was a steaming load of bullshit.

“He’s fine,” Mal assured him, for at least the tenth time that week. It was her own stupid fault for telling Jay what could happen when a lesser vampire didn’t feed well—how they could lose grip on their magic and sentience, become more animal than person, forget how to shift altogether and simply live and die as any ordinary bat—

That wasn’t something that generally happened unless inflicted as a punishment. Her mother had favoured it as torture, pushing lesser vampires to their brink and letting them fall, just to pull them back and do it over again—again and again, until they fell into madness.

The point was Carlos would be fine. This wasn’t like that at all. It just happened in the winter sometimes, ever since he’d sworn off human blood; the butcher’s supply, as reliable as it was, couldn’t compare to the life-force and magic that saturated a fresh kill, let alone any earthly creature with a still-beating heart.

Mal remembered how it was before she’d convinced him to give in and feed on the local cows and deer and other woodland creatures; at the worst, when a series of storms hit and the best there was to hunt were the rats inside the castle, he’d gone two weeks without the energy to shift out of his bat form.

She’d told Jay all that, and how a few days like this were normal, but she was starting to think he hadn’t been listening past that little “reverie” about the torture and the madness and—yeah.

That’d been stupid to tell him.

Again, Mal sighed. “Did you just come down here to sulk, or…?”

She didn’t know what else to say, since Jay wasn’t exactly talking.

He gave her a sullen look and, as if he’d read her mind, mumbled out, “He’s shaking.” He twisted to the side and leaned forward a little for Mal to see—and there was Carlos, vibrating in Jay’s palm.

She smirked at the sight, raising her gaze back to Jay.

“He’s not shaking, he’s purring.”

Jay looked at her strangely, a wrinkle in his brow. “He’s what?”

“You heard me.” Mal shook her head and glanced back down at the grimoire laid out in her lap, currently open to a page on lunar magic.

“I think you’re confusing him with Evie,” Jay retorted after a beat.

His eyes were on her, searching for something—mostly, a sign she was trying to fuck with him, and if he didn’t find it, well—

She would probably bite him if he kept up looking so skeptical.

“Bats purr when they’re happy, dumbass.” Mal said this flatly, with dead eyes, so Jay would know she couldn’t be more serious. “Well, sometimes,” she amended. “I mean, it’s not like we can’t control—”

“We?” Jay’s eyebrows raised, and then—the bastard that he was—he very nearly smirked as it sank in what she was saying. “So... you...?”

Mal snapped the grimoire shut in an undeniably controlled manner and further displayed her absolute mastery over her own emotions by not thunking the heavy book down on Jay’s fragile human skull.

“We’re not talking about me.”

“Why not?” came Evie’s voice from a doorway off to Mal’s right, her sulky tone preceding her entrance in a blue lace-trimmed dressing gown that billowed out behind her as she walked. “I love talking about you, baby.” She pouted a little, but there was a spark of mischief in her eyes that remained as she shifted—

Suddenly, a black cat jumped up on the couch arm and slunk down into Mal’s lap with a pleased little mrow over Mal’s flushed cheeks.

“E,” Mal mumbled in complaint, though there wasn’t any heat to it. She stroked down Evie’s back, eliciting a loud purr—the sound of it being, for Jay, a sure sign of pleasure; not like Carlos’ silent quaking in his palm, which hadn’t ceased in the time he’d been sitting there.

Suddenly, Jay felt Evie’s paws pressing down on his thigh and he looked to see her staring up at him, big brown eyes expectant.

It took him a moment to realize what she wanted.

He lowered his cupped hands from his chest to his belly, giving Evie access to the sleeping Carlos. She made a sound that Jay wasn’t sure whether to take as thanks or a coo of affection, then bent her neck to gently groom over Carlos’ head and neck, purring all the while.

Jay soon felt Carlos’ own purr lessening as he began to twitch and shift, coming around to waking. He finally raised his head—which now had a cowlick—and squinted blearily at Evie, who greeted him with a slow blink, then withdrew back to Mal’s lap.

Carlos yawned and stretched one wing out to hook on Jay’s sweater. He began to climb up out from his, by now, sweaty nest until he’d arrived at Jay’s shoulder, where he tilted his head into the crook of Jay’s neck and uttered a raspy little chirrup.

As Jay reached up to stroke a finger over Carlos’ fur, he couldn’t help but notice the girls out of the corner of his eye. Evie, who had shifted easily back into her human form, was wedged against Mal’s right side on the couch now, their bodies slotted like puzzle pieces.

Mal had twisted away from Jay to tangle her legs with Evie’s and put a hand on her waist. She was whispering something to Evie that made her giggle—but the sound faded out when Evie caught Jay’s eye and her expression softened, becoming almost pitying.

“Sorry,” Jay started to say, looking about to stand from the couch.

Evie reached over Mal to grab his arm. “No, don’t go,” she insisted before Jay could say anything else. He hesitated, but her grip on him only tightened. “Hang out with us tonight?” she asked, not as much of a question as it sounded—he knew her well enough to be sure.

Still, he remained hesitant, until—

Mal elbowed him in the ribs, turning her head back to look at him. “Don’t be all sad and lame,” she said gruffly, which—from Mal—was as good an assurance as any that she wanted him around.

He gave a strained smile in response, grateful, yet unable to quell that ache of longing for Carlos, even as close he was—small, warm body flush to Jay’s neck, his clawed feet tangled in his long hair—

“He’s still in there, you know.”

Mal hadn’t turned her head away until then, only a second after meeting Jay’s eyes. She looked awkward, like it was something so deeply unnatural for her to offer any comfort. She quickly made her excuses to go and put on a new record, causing Jay to realize that the phantom singer’s voice had faded out to nothing in the background.

“She’s right,” said Evie, eyes trailing fondly after Mal before she set her gaze on Jay with a kind smile, “but it’s okay to miss him. I do, too.”

Thank you for reading! Reblogs are always appreciated. If you’d like to leave a kudos or comment on AO3, I’d really love that, as well! ♥

#descendants #jaylos #malvie #descendants fanfiction #platonic!jal #platonic!jayvie #my fanfiction #my writing #Forever and a Night AU #descendants fandom #hello friends I am back from the war (three months of writer's block)#hopefully there are more words where this came from dajkgjskdg

25 notes · View notes

guaifenesinheaven · 2 years

Text

guaifenesin in hell: a post-mortem retrospective

in this post i want to share some fragments from guaifenesinhell, a hybrid alternate reality vlog and erotic furry video art youtube channel which i developed throughout 2021. i was very secretive about this project, showing it to maybe a dozen people. it is now unfortunately defunct, so unless i sent it to you directly, or ur one of the ~500 people who found and subscribed to the project organically, this post is the only way to experience guaifenesinhell now. sry!

guaifenesinhell (short for guaifenesin in hell) was composed mainly of film footage of my fursona guaifenesin, a funny cartoon dog/wolf woman with white and blue fur and starry eyes who lives in hell

most of the vids were set in an interior living space of some kind and featured guaify performing simple, domestic actions for sustained periods of time: boiling a pot of water, laying on a carpet in the sunlight, doing some dishes, heating clothing to remove bedbugs, watching a candle burn in the dark, etc. these clips were entirely unedited, each being a single uninterrupted shot of guaifenesin performing the specified action in its entirety and then walking out of frame.

guaifenesinhell also gave me an excuse to produce a healthy amount of body inflation kink content

these videos were fairly formulaic, consisting of short sequences in which guaifenesin’s body would expand as she sat or stood in place, often with the same uncharged emotional affect as my other videos. producing these was the most enjoyable part of the project, especially designing the props necessary to create a convincing inflation sequence. these videos were also, somewhat predictably, the most popular part of my channel, some of them gaining tens of thousands of views relatively quickly.

i found it pretty sexy as well, and was overall very satisfied that i was able to produce actual niche kink content with some degree of sincerity. this has been a goal of mine for a while; while my previous long-term social media project had ostensibly been “about vore” (eternal love to the dead god vore) i had failed to rly get my hands gooey in this respect, gesturing broadly at the kink as a metaphorical concept without portraying it directly. this was something i personally sought to rectify, and a crucial step in creating art which was more identifiably “furry.” when i think of people portraying their fursonas in art online, making little worlds for them to live in, the two things that most come to mind are infinitely repetitive yet inescapably comfortable domestic lives and sexual fetishes. this, coincidentally, is what hell looks like.

there were also a number of misc. videos which i wont go into too much detail about here, mostly first person, found footage style stuff, little rituals and cryptic fluff meant to add to the narrative tone i was developing, or foreshadow later videos i was planning to release. i consider these more or less inseparable from the original Youtube channel, loose ends that cant rly be replicated on another platform.

138 notes · View notes

ijustwant2write · 3 years

Text

‘We aren’t lonely’-Loki Laufeyson x Reader

(GIF credit to @marvelgifs)

Masterlist

Summary: Another Loki variant is sent to the void, lost and confused like everyone dumped there. However, he is panicking more about this situation than anyone else, desperate to find you. He doesn’t know where you are, he doesn’t know if you are even alive. The other Loki’s think him foolish to keep believing that you are alive, because it seems that only Loki’s are meant to survive in the void.

Characters: Loki Laufeyson x Reader, variant Loki’s (TVA Loki, Classic Loki, Boastful Loki, Kid Loki, Alligator Loki)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Mentions of death and weapons, violence, sadness, some fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Loki’s eyes snapped open, taking a sharp breath in and out in a panic as he tried to figure out where he was. One minute he was with you, then some kind of portal opened revealing people in armour he had never seen before going on about being arrested, dragged away against each others will; and what was that word they had called him? Variant?

He slowly sat up, extremely confused where he was and why he had been sent here. Where were you? Were you dead? Was this some sort of hell he had been sent to? Where were you?!

“Stand up you fool!” a man demanded, suddenly coming into view with an outstretched hand.

He was in a green and yellow outfit, with the gold horns that Loki himself had been known to wear. Beside him was a young boy, wearing Asgardian clothing, a man with huge muscles, fur draping over his shoulders and holding a hammer, an identical clone of himself in a beige, Midgardian shirt and tie, and...an alligator?

“Where am I? Who are-”

The child groaned.“We don’t have time for this! Alioth draws nearer by the second.”

“He’s right.” the man grabbed Loki’s hand, pulling him to his feet. Loki glanced around, eyes wide in confusion.“Look, I know this is very confusing, but if you start asking questions, that big cloud will end your existence, unless we start running now!”

“Wait! I need to find my wife!” he exclaimed.

They all turned to face him, shock written on their faces.“Wife? Did I hear that correctly?”

“Yes! Well, fiance before we were interrupted. She could be here somewhere, I have to go looking for her!”

“You won’t be able to outrun Alioth. You’re better off waiting for him to pass before you attempt to find this woman.” the larger man said.

“I can’t leave her out here if she’s all by herself. She could die!”

“And you could die before you reach her. She may not even be here.”

“Thank you for the advice, but I’m going to look for her.”

They shrugged, obviously not caring that he was walking into the face of death. However, as he started to leave them, the twin of himself grabbed his forearm.

“Do not stop me!”

The twin held his arms up in surrender.“I understand that you mean to find this lover of yours, but believe me, you should come with us. Is your wife smart?”

“Extremely.”

“Does she know how to handle a weapon?”

“Of course. I taught her myself.”

“She will know to hide from this monster. You’re her best shot of surviving if you are still alive.”

Still flabbergasted, Loki huffed, nodding as a gesture that he would follow them. They all started moving quickly, and it seemed that the twin of himself was also wondering what was going on. Nevertheless, Loki continued to stay quiet, the only thing on his mind was you. He continuously looked out for you, hoping he would spot your beautiful face, even miles away.

The men led him underground, he turned his nose up at the makeshift place. This was where these men were hiding? Everything was complied of junk that had been lying around on the wasteland above them. How could they live like this?

“Will someone please tell me what is going on?” Loki raised his voice as the three men settled into their ‘home’, the clone Loki also looking around the dump.

The clone Loki spoke as he took in his surroundings.“You are a variant. Those people who took you away from your world, they are called the TVA, the Time Variance Authority. They ensure that everything stays perfect for their ‘Sacred Timeline’. Basically, we are all different versions of a Loki, but our stories were not meant to happen. And apparently, living your own life is a crime.”

“This still makes no sense.”

“We’re not supposed to happen, that’s why we’re dumped here. Don’t worry too much about it.” the older Loki dismissed what they were saying, turning to the clone Loki.“Why did you want to return to the TVA so badly anyway?”

“Did you leave your glorious purpose there?” the large Loki smirked.

“Something like that.” clone replied.

“How long must we wait before we can go out again?” Loki asked, looking up to the exit.

“It is better to wait longer than you think.” the child said.

“Damn this. Damn this whole place!”

“There is no need for theatrics.” older Loki calmed him down.“Come, have a drink, relax and gather your thoughts before you heroically rescue your princess.”

Loki was fidgeting at first, gripping onto the cup filled with the most disgusting wine he had ever tasted. It seemed that this circle time was going to be filled with personal stories, but he was slowly starting to understand everything. These were all different versions of himself...well, even he wasn’t the correct version of a Loki. Then what did that make you? It was a curious question, but he knew that no matter the answer, you would always be his love, his soon to be queen and wife.

“And so, after I vanquished Captain America,” muscled Loki continued his story,“and Iron Man, I claimed my prize. All six infinity stones!”

The alligator (which Loki somehow kept forgetting was sat right next to him in his shallow pool), made a noise, as if in protest.

“That’s alligator for growling, saying liar at the same time.” older Loki translated.

“Well at least my Nexus event wasn’t eating the wrong neighbours cat.”

The alligator hissed, lunging at the Loki and snapping its jaw. It jumped onto muscled Loki, snapping onto his hand, everyone leaping up to break up the fight. As they all collapsed back into their seats, the child pointed to the older version.

“Tell them your story Loki.”

“Me? No body wants to hear about that.”

“I-I would actually.” twin Loki spoke up.

“Me too. Perhaps it will help me gain a better understanding of this madness.” Loki said.

“It’s just, I’ve been wondering because I’m...we’re supposed to die, right? Thanos kills us after Ragnarok.”

“Who does?!”

“Thanos.” old Loki spat out the name.“My timeline, everything proceeded correctly my entire life until Thanos attacked our ship.”

“You didn’t try to stab him?”

“Certainly not. Take no offence my friends, but blades are worthless in the face of a Loki sorcery. They stunt our magical potential.”

“But they look awesome.” Muscled Loki smiled, everyone nodding to agree.

“Oh yes, especially when they clatter to the ground just before your neck is snapped.”

Loki’s hand subconsciously raised to his throat, shuddering at the thought.

“I cast a projection of myself so real, even the mad titan believed it. Then hid as inanimate debris. After I faked my death, I simply drifted in space, away from Thor, away from everything. Thought about the universe and my place in it. And it occurred to me that everywhere I went, only pain followed me. So, I removed myself from the equation, landed on a remote planet and stayed there in isolation, in solitude. For a long, long time.”

“How did the TVA find you?”

“I got lonely. To tell you the truth, I missed my brother. I wondered if he missed me, if anyone else did. But as soon as I took my first steps getting off the planet, the TVA arrived. Because we my friend have but one part to play, the God of Outcasts. Nothing more. God of Outcasts.”

Older Loki raised his cup in the air, muscled and child Loki copying. Loki shook his head and scoffed, putting the attention on himself. He threw his cup down in frustration, letting the wine spill all over the floor.

“What a pathetic story. We’re not alone or lonely. If you actually tried you would know that.”

“You said we had a wife. What was she like?” the clone seemed deeply interested.

“She was almost my wife. The TVA stopped our weddings, just as she was walking down the aisle. And she was the most beautiful woman of Asgard.”

He hesitated as he reached out his hand, wondering if what he was about to do would break his heart. But he did it anyway, conjuring up a small image of you, adorned in his favourite dress of yours, your hair just how he liked it; you could look however you wanted and he would still desire you, but this was what he wanted to show the others, show them how lucky he was to have you as his.

“She’s beautiful.” older Loki seemed astounded.

“She is. And although she is with me everyday, she tells me how much she loves me all the time, and I can see how she looks at me, I am still amazed that such a divine creature such as herself would want to spend the rest of her life with me. But it seems that we were never meant to marry. That our happiness wasn’t meant to happen, all because of some stupid timeline.”

“The sacred timeline has taken away all of our lives, all because it didn’t fit with their story line.” the child said.

“To hell with the timeline. She was my love. I fought valiantly for us to be married, to even be together. When my father decided against it, we were to be wed in secret. What was the harm in that?”

The child ignored his snappy tone."Why couldn't you marry her?"

"Dearest Odin couldn't stand seeing his adopted, less loved 'son' marry before Thor. At this point, Thor had expressed little interest in the throne, and that frightened Odin. If something were to happen to Thor to stop him from ruling, it could fall to me, or my heirs."

"So that's why you married her? Your plan to secure the line was to have children?" older Loki thought aloud.

"No!" Loki snapped."I loved-I love her! I never thought I could feel such a thing, but for once I was wrong. Someone was capable of loving me besides my mother. And I was thrilled to be spending the rest of my life with her."

There were a few seconds of silence before the clone of himself dared to speak.“What was her name?”

“(Y/N).”

“How did we meet her?”

“We didn’t meet her, I did. And I don’t want to talk about it, I need to be out there looking for her.”

“Alioth may have already taken her.” muscled Loki pointed out, knowing it would push his buttons.

Loki let out a loud growl as he lunged for the man, knocking him out of his seat. They rolled on the floor, throwing punches when they could, and Loki was prepared to use his magic when he was pushed off of the man.

“Stop this madness! We’ve already had one brawl tonight, we don’t need another.” the older Loki bellowed.

“I am through with this nonsense! You will do well to keep your mouth shut and never even think about my wife again! I’m leaving. I don’t care if I have to hide out there or fight this stupid cloud myself, I’m going to find (Y/N).”

“Be our guest. We’re not stopping you.”

Loki huffed, adjusting his clothing back to normal before turning around to exit the bunker. He heard shuffling behind him before the clone Loki told him to stop.

“Look, you should really wait this out.”

“The longer I wait, the more chance there is of my wife being dead.”

“I understand-”

“No, you don’t. All of you Loki’s seem to not comprehend the idea of love. As he said, you’re all lonely. Perhaps I’m the only Loki who has ever been capable of it. So don’t say things you don’t mean. Nothing you can say will change my mind, I’m going out there for her, and if she’s dead...then I will let fate take its course.”

When the clone said nothing back, he took that a his cue to continue his leave. Confidently climbing back out, Loki slammed the lid shut, taking a deep breath as he stood. He really didn’t know where to start. His mind was clouded with emotions. Where could you be in this hellhole? Were you even sent here in the first place? What if the monster had got to you first? No, he had to remain strong, be positive. You were out there, hiding whilst you came up with some sort of plan, because you were a smart woman, you knew what to do to survive. Loki only hoped he could find you sooner rather than later, he didn’t know how much more his aching heart could take.

250 notes · View notes

deceitfuldevil · 3 years

Text

Cosmic Glitch

Baron Helmut Zemo X Reader

Summary: You always believed your soulmate was somewhere out there and that one day you'd see color, but the day you met him you refused to accept it. (soulmate AU! where you can't see color until you first look into your soulmates eyes)

Warnings: use of y/n, swearing I think?, poorly written, clearly from my drafts, headcannon turned imagine, fluff <3

Word Count: 2.2K

You had always been close with Sam ever since you served in the Air Force together, you were always up for any mission or task he needed help with.

After everyone was blipped back you had lost your job, so when Sam called you up asking you to tag along on a mission and promised compensation you couldn't turn him down.

You met Sam and Bucky in the garage and when the infamous Helmut Zemo walked in you locked eyes with him, and a fit a color exploded before you.

Zemo had stopped mid sentence

“I really don’t think I’m—“

Your heart sank deep into your chest

“Oh no” you said barely above a whisper.

“I uh, I’m not useful to this operation” he finished, stumbling over his words. Which you'd learn later on was very uncharacteristic of him.

You just stared at him as he nodded at you, a quiet hello.

Your luck was just impeccable wasn’t it? Zemo? Helmet fucking Zemo? It had to be him? The man that tore apart the avengers and bombed the UN for Christ sake! He was a fucking criminal!

The plane ride to Madripoor was above all else, awkward.

You barely spoke, not even making eye contact with anyone unless directly spoken to.

“You alright Y/n?” Sam asked, placing his hand on your shoulder.

You only nodded a small yes, feeling your soulmates prying eyes burning holes into the sight of Sam’s hand on your shoulder.

“Y/n, such a pretty name. I love the way it rolls off the tongue. Y/n.” Zemo said, toying with the sound of your name on his lips. Flustering you, but angering Bucky.

“Cool it Zemo, she’s just a kid.” He warned. Causing Zemo to wave Bucky off with his hand as he took a sip of his warm champagne.

But Bucky was right, you were just a kid. Your soulmate, the Baron for Christ sake, had to be at least 20 some years older than you.

Why did fate set you up with a man that was an adult before you were even born? Didn’t he have a wife before the battle of Sokovia? Maybe this was some kind of cosmic glitch.

I mean, it had to be... right?

Of course you wouldn’t be able to shake the Baron so easily, especially not when you needed a secret cover to pose as in Madripoor

There was only one role for you to play being so new on the “superhero” scene that you were unknown and considering you didn’t look like a single high profile criminal out there.

The Barons fiancé. His schatzi.

Obviously, you couldn’t just show up to a bar in low town in your suit either, so Zemo being ostentatious man that he is came prepared in the worst way possible.

You closed the door to first class and zipped open the black dress bag that Zemo handed you, telling you it would fit well with the part you were due to play.

A very short velvety plum dress sat in front of your color bound eyes. Ridiculously tall heels to match.

It was never something you’d wear out, you’d never have the confidence to wear such a short and expensive dress out to a bar of all places. But the material felt so good and with the new blessing of colored sight almost made you satisfied with outfit presented.

But you walked out fully dressed and maintained your attitude.

“Who am I supposed to be? A high-end hooker?” You quipped, trying to pull the hem of the dress down as far as it would go.

“You, schatzi, will be playing the part of my fiancé.” Zemo said simply. Fixing the cufflink on his left arm.

You stood there awestruck at what he had just said to you. It was hard enough for you to try and ignore that he was your soulmate but now you had to play the part?

“Oh, and you’ll be needing this” he said, digging into his pocket and flicking a ring at you. You caught it, examining it and gasping softly. You had never seen a diamond so big.

You slipped it on your finger, it fit perfectly. Which, made you smile to yourself in a way you knew you shouldn’t have.

He’s a criminal, he’s a psychopath. He’s a criminal, he’s a psychopath. You continually repeated to yourself the whole ride to low town, allowing yourself to think for even a second that just because he was your soulmate meant that he was a good person was not in the books. You simply couldn’t do it.

But as you arrived in the deeper part of Madripoor Zemo informed everyone that they must play their role to a T, because their lives depended on it.

As the car stopped Zemo walked around the side and opened the door for you, grabbing your hand and leading you out. Pressing a gentle kiss to your hand as you stood upright.

You eyes trailed up to his as a blush became evident on your face, when you locked eyes, boom, another shockwave of color screamed into your eyes. You saw the detailing in his fur collar, the bright neon signage all around, the gold detailing in Bucky’s vibraium arm, all of it.

You wanted to see color forever, you hated knowing that if you went without seeing Zemo for too long, the color would fade out.

In ordeal at the bar came and went, the business with Selby is where things got interesting and simultaneously made you nervous.

For some reason it’s almost as if Zemo could sense this because he squeezed your hand tightly and you both sat down on the couch across from Selby.

After everyone else had either been introduced or acknowledged, all that was left was you.

“And who’s this pretty little thing you’ve got yourself here Zemo?” Selby asked, clearing prodding knowing he’d been married before.

“This...” he trailed off, grabbing your left hand to show off the ring “is my beautiful fiancé” he finished

“Oh, got yourself a little trophy wife after the other one kicked the can huh?" She added, staring down the large rock sitting on your finger.

“That’s very sweet of you to think, but this one here is my soulmate. The first woman to ever make me see in color.” Zemo said, his words so sweet honey might as well as been dripping off his tongue. His gaze turned to you, boom, another bright flash of color that made a shiver run down your spine.

“Oh how sweet, but I don’t believe it.” Selby said with a grin, Sam and Bucky tensed up slightly. Siding with Selby because they too didn’t believe Zemo when he referred to you as his soulmate.

“Test me.” You challenged, stupidly if I may add.

“Excuse me?” Selby asked, quirking an eyebrow up at you

“If you don’t believe we’re soulmates, test me. I can name any color you’d like.” You continued, a part of you always looking for a challenge, the other part also wanting to test yourself see if maybe this whole color thing was faulty or one-ended.

“Fine, we’ll start easy. What’s the color of that slutty dress you’ve got on?” She asked, angry that you challenged her

“Easy, the same color as my soulmates turtle neck. A deep purple, plum if you will.” You said carefully caressing the material of Zemo’s shirt

“You could’ve been told that before you arrived, what about my lipstick?” She pressed as she pursed her lips out

“A cheap magenta” you deadpanned, done with her games. She scoffed at you.

“And this couch?” She asked grinning, patting the cushion beside her.

“Trick question. It’s a old a dirty worn out pattern, it has no specific color” you said with a fake smile, Zemo’s hand snaking around your waist as he pulled you a little closer.

The room fell silent just long enough for things to feel awkward before Selby started laughing uncontrollably.

“Well Baron, the universe certainly has picked you a handful! Now what business did you want to do with me again?” And just like that, it was over and you were suddenly running from bounty hunters on the streets.

When Sharon rescued the four of you the ride up to her place in high town was painfully silent. Zemo kept a firm hand on your thigh. Bucky stared off into space ashamed of how easily he fell back into form, and Sam sat on his thoughts wondering if you and Zemo were really soulmates.

No one really spoke to each other, just different conversations with Sharon. After what went down at the Bar and then with Selby... a mood was set, things had changed.

When Zemo stood up and announced he wanted to go join the party and made his way towards the exit you told Bucky you’d keep on eye on him. Sam wanted to protest but at that point you both were already out the door.

You sat from afar watching Zemo on the floor of the club horribly attempting to dance along with the rest of the party-goers. When you laughed a little to yourself he looked up at you, boom, that beautiful shock of color again. It never got old.

But you quickly averted your eyes and disappeared from his gaze as you went to the bar for a drink. When the bartender slid your drink over suddenly Zemo was at your side announcing he’d pay for it.

Zemo started to snake his hand around your waist once more but this time you smacked his hand away

“We’re not playing house anymore, Baron.” You told him, using his formal title.

“But you see what I see, do you not?” He asked, tentatively reaching for your hand.

“See what?” You asked, avoiding his burning gaze. You knew damn well what he was taking about but refused to admit to even yourself. He was a horrible man, a criminal, a rich psychopath! It ached your heart that someone with such a shitty past was who you were meant to be with for the rest of your life.

“The beautiful colors. I see your bright eyes, your sleek hair, those sweet pink lips. Now color is all around me too, I can see the colors of the club. I see the blue radiating off that light, the red in this drink you ordered, the green that lady’s hair! You love opened my eyes, Y/n. With you, I can see.” Zemo pressed on, smiling as he looked in awe at all the colors around him. He placed his hand gently over yours. You flinched but didn’t move away from his touch

“But this has to be wrong. I can’t be the person for you. You had a wife and kids right? Didn’t they bring any color into your life?” You asked, feeling a warm heat rise to your cheeks from the small contact you two were now sharing

“I loved my wife and son sure, but they were always grey to me. Remember that I’m a Baron, when you’re royalty your marriage options aren’t as wide as the universe has set for you.” He pointed out, taking your hand and slowly rubbing your knuckles.

“Still surely this has to be some kind of universal glitch! I mean you’re what? 20 some years older than me? What about all the horrible shit you’ve done? You’re a criminal! I was made to be a hero! We don’t mix, let alone fall in love!” You babbled on

“Listen, y/n. I am not proud of my past, I was a grief stricken man who had just lost his wife and child along with his entire country. I was only doing what I believed to be right at the moment, is that not what you try to do as well?” He asked, trying to find similarities between the two of you. Some common ground.

“Zemo I—“ you started, turning to face him and looking into his hazel brown eyes again and feeling that boom of color that would never get old, but did make you lose your train of thought.

“Zemo I’m scared” you finished off, your planned statement turning into a confession. You didn’t take your eyes off his this time as he stared back down at you. Bring his free hand to your cheek he smiled softly.

“I’m scared too, schatzi. But the feeling you give me makes me feel like everything is going to be alright. Stay with me, ride this out and see where it goes. I promise I’ll make it worth your while. Designer clothes, expensive jewelry, sport cars, you name it and I’ll buy it for you. I’ll fly you any place you’ve ever wanted to go, show you every sight you’ll ever need to see.” He tools breathe, a single tear slipping down his face.

“Please, let’s give this a shot.” He ended. Nine years with losing your wife, child, country, and being imprisoned for a few years really changed a man; and made him that much more desperate for someone like you, his soulmate, to stay.

And stay you did. The first year was rocky wrapping things up with the super soldiers on the loose and clearing Zemo’s name in the eyes of the Power Broker and the UN. Based on his efforts to take down the last of the super soldiers and good words from Sam and Bucky his sentence was reduced to one year under house arrest, which made for a great way to get to know each other better.

The years after that were far beyond smooth sailing, they were dare you even say perfect. You traveled the world with Zemo, lived the most lavish life, saw the most amazing things.

All in color.

169 notes · View notes