#I shit you not within like ten minutes of my first session she was like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fictioninmyblood · 7 months

Text

I Meant That Shit

Summary: N’Jadaka gets tired of waiting for Y/N to forgive him and come home, so he decides to let Killmonger bring her back, kicking and screaming if necessary.

Warnings: 18+, noncon/con, smut, D/s themes, Entitled and pissed Erik being devious. Shouldthere be a warning for angst?

A/N: This was supposed to be short, but here we are. Enjoy my sexually starved thoughts.

A/N: Also, idk if this needs to be said, but I write for my demographic - black females. This has been my disclaimer/notice.

A/N: My work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than this) without my explicit consent and recognition.

After his reluctant rehabilitation, there weren't many things that brought out his killer instinct anymore. However, it seemed that lately, despite all the sparring, therapy, and meditation sessions, Erik couldn’t shake the urge to knock some sense into his girl Y/N.

A few weeks prior when she told him she needed space and couldn’t stay in Wakanda and ignore her life anymore, he said some things. She took it the wrong way and told him they were over, as if.

When she first left, Erik was sure she’d break down and FaceTime him or use the kimoyo beads he taught her to use. She was always more vocal about missing him, so he just assumed she’d break down and restart their communication. Imagine his surprise when a whole two weeks rolled by without so much as a text, call, or video chat. He was desperate for anything from her, even a verbal lashing, but by the time a month came and went, he felt like a fiend going through withdrawal.

During week six, his excitement to finally lay his eyes on Y/N was quickly cut short when he realized she was still talking to his family even though he had been getting the silent treatment. That displeasing information lit him like a powder keg when he saw another man in Y/N’s background, getting dressed no less. T’Challa dragged him from Shuri’s lab ready to bust a gasket when his babygirl asked Shuri to go into a different room and his little cousin actually listened! His whole family was against him again it would seem.

When T’Challa got him back to his room, all he did was pace. It was ten full minutes of the king warily watching his cousin stew when M’Baku walked right into the line of fire as Erik turned to beat the shit out of his cousin. T’Challa easily dodged the current threat on his life as the giant grabbed Erik’s hands in one of his, quickly disarming him and making the pouting man even more enraged.

“You all have been talking to her this whole time?” N’Jadaka roared.

“Just Shuri and I. She made us promise to let you figure it out for yourself, but you’ve been failing miserably cousin! Absolutely clueless!” T’Challa replied.

Erik struggled against M’Baku’s vice grip to no avail.

“No shit Sherlock. I’m gonna whoop yawls asses. M’Baku let me go.”

“Not until you promise to have a conversation with your mouth instead of your hands. I am not prepared to get involved in another war between you two.”

Erik took a few deep breaths. “Fine, I’m good.”

Once M’Baku was sure there would be no immediate violence he let go.

“You better start explaining real fucking soon T,” Erik spat, pointing an accusatory finger at T’Challa.

“Okay! Okay! Y/N is struggling to accept that you actually want her around long term!” T’Challa word-vomited.

If the prince wasn’t already enraged, the king and tribal chief would’ve laid out in hysterics at how N’Jadaka’s face screwed up. “How sway! How?!”

“From what Shuri has explained and I’ve gathered in my eavesdropping is that she thinks you only want to claim her without actually growing with her. Everything is on your terms, your way, in your time. She’s been far more patient than most would be with you so I can’t say she’s wrong.”

Erik jumped at T’Challa, scaring him and the big gorilla chief. “I oughta beat you up for keeping your mouth shut.”

“She and Shuri threatened me within an inch of my life and they scare me more than you. Besides, according to them, you can’t keep relying on us to figure out what’s going on in your relationship and I couldn’t find a valid disagreement.”

Erik nearly did slap T’Challa at the last sentiment.

“Aye aye!” M’Baku shouted, getting between the two yet again, “He is being truthful now. That counts eh? And if I may interject, I think you’re aiming your anger at the wrong person.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Erik said, deflating under the weight of that truth, “but his ass still bout to pay me back and I know just how.”

————-

A few hours later…

“You know, when I told you that you could pay me back with The Royal Talon Fighter, I didn’t expect you to tag along.”

“Who else was going to keep an eye on our Wakandan technology or keep you from murdering anyone in the vicinity of Y/N, especially any man?”

Erik rolled his eyes and huffed. “I guess.”

“Or Y/N from killing you for just showing up jealous despite being radio silent since long before she left Wakanda.”

“Alright alright! You made your point. Damn! Just drive the fancy metal.”

—

Erik was all confidence until the second they landed in Atlanta. Yeah, Killmonger was out for blood and was ready to bring their girl back kicking and screaming if necessary, but Erik N’Jadaka Stevens? He was a nervous fucking wreck.

T’Challa and M’Baku’s words really struck a nerve and he had nothing but time to stew over them on the ride to your family’s hometown ranch. Before he met you, Killmonger made all the decisions, kept him alive and ahead of the game, whatever game he was surviving at the moment. He lived like that for well over a decade when he met you, but you didn’t bat an eyelash at his swift mood swings, his bloodthirst, or his possessiveness, often putting him in place. You handled him with love and care, showing him how to become the softer version of himself without sacrificing your boundaries too much. He was quickly realizing that he sometimes pushed too hard, took too much, neglected your requirements. It was your stern patience, however, that was enough to allow you to become the first person to get him the person instead of him the killer to come out and communicate, interact, and live rather than survive.

You did it for him a second time around when he came out of cryo too. He hadn’t told you anything about how he would go about his goals, opting just to disappear and execute so it was a surprise of a lifetime to wake up to your beautiful Y/E/C. After getting over his initial anger over you seeing the worst of him, you were the first person he responded to or let touch him during his recovery. Even going so far as not allowing the medical staff to redress his wounds if he was awake.

Only your touch soothed him, only your voice gave him peace. You made him less of a killing machine and more human again, made him want to address the tsunami of emotions and trauma that he lugged around. He didn’t want to jeopardize your willingness to be that for him but he recognized how you were always giving all you had just to receive an inch of progress from him. If that.

Unfortunately, all of his introspection and nervousness flew right out of the truck T’Challa had them in when he saw you walking up to your personal guesthouse with a man in tow. Killmonger immediately took the reins pushing him and his feelings down into the abyss, and leaping out of the car before T’Challa could come to a complete stop with his cousin calling after him.

“Y/N!” Killmonger shouted from the end of the long-ass driveway, rage evident in his voice.

Y/N was haphazardly trying to get her drunk cousin up the stairs while nervously dropping her keys when she heard Killmonger. She’s only encountered him a few times since meeting Erik, after the first time she brought him back to himself, he did his best to keep that part from her. It didn’t always work since any repressed feeling or issue the man had was poured into his alter ego, feeding his desire to be wild and untamed in his decision-making. So she knew he was out for blood with just the sound of her name.

She got the key in just as Killmonger got to the beginning of her walkway up to the house. As quickly as she could, she pulled her cousin in, slamming and locking the door in her partner’s face, leaving the beast to bang on her door and demand entrance.

“I’m not dealing with your bulldozing tactics Kill! You can come back when Erik is ready to face his fucking feelings and have an adult conversation!”

“If you know what’s good for you and that nigga in there, you better open this ghatdamn door Y/N!” He roared in response.

Y/N’s cousin couldn’t stop laughing, no matter how much she waved him off. Getting trashed 3 nights in a row after a bad breakup and crashing with his favorite cousin after hearing how she was hiding from both the world and the love of her life as well didn’t prepare him for seeing her so out of character. One second she was fleeing from the man, the next she was big and bad from behind a locked door in all her 5’5” glory. It was comical as hell to him.

“You know you look constipated when you cuss? Like that stick in your ass is fighting every syllable.” He said, immediately dying in another fit of laughter at his analogy.

“Who the fuck is that in there with you, Y/N, and don’t fucking lie!”

“The next man. Nice to meet you. You must be the ex.” her cousin shouted out in a drunken slur to Y/N’s horror.

Yeah, she knew she wasn’t in the wrong, and there was no reason to defend herself against this man, but she knew not to press certain buttons once Kill made an appearance. Her cousin, unfortunately, had no discernment to see that he had just pressed the biggest red button Kill had when it came to her.

Y/N watched the myriad of emotions that crossed Erik’s face through the peephole, praying to every ancestor and display of the creator she could think of that this man wasn’t going to go full psycho-killer on them both. The last thing she needed was him taking several steps back in his healing just to unnecessarily add another scar, maybe 2 with how pissed he looked.

Y/N turned back to her cousin, ready to kill him for putting her in even hotter water, only to find that nigga was sleep, leaving Y/N to deal with the consequences on her own.

As soon as she had that thought her ears piqued, taking in how silent it had gotten. All she could hear was the crunch of gravel as T’Challa finally pulled in and got out. When she peeked outside the peephole again, she was met with a confused T’Challa looking for Erik.

A chill ran up her spine and her blood ran cold as she slowly turned to her current worst fear; Killmonger pissed as hell, staring her down with a knife to her cousin’s throat.

“Give me one good reason not to paint your brand new carpet with this nigga’s blood Y/F/N then fuck you on the new color.”

Putting her hands up in a placating manner, Y/N slowly inched towards Kill, stopping when he dug the knife just slightly deeper, exposing a thin line of blood, as her cousin slept unawares.

Donning a submissive voice as if she was talking to a wild animal, “Erik, baby calm down.”

“Don’t baby calm down me! You out here giving other niggas what’s mine? Mine Y/N!”

“That’s not–”

“Don’t tell me that’s not what’s going on when you’ve been M.I.Fucking.A. for weeks! And the first thing I see both on video chat and in person is you with some random?! I’ll murder every nigga to ever touch you, keep tryna play me.”

“Nobody’s playing you Daka, look closer, you know him. I promise I haven’t been stepping out on you.” Y/N continued on, internally rolling her eyes at the toddler temper tantrum she had to placate this nigga out of. “My stupidly in love, trying to escape his own heartache, and loves drama when drunk cousin that you have met several times was just egging you on.”

Kill looked closer to the man’s face and released the filter of rage clouding his judgment, upon closer inspection he realized they’d met at several of the many family gatherings he’d attended with Y/N/N. Slowly easing the knife from her cousin’s throat, Erik struggled to fight back tears at his behavior. He was proving he wasn’t good enough for her, he hadn’t actually changed all that much. Kill took the reins once again, unwilling to let him process his feelings of abandonment and betrayal just yet. Rushing towards Y/N, he laid the knife flat on the side of her face, taking up residence on the other side.

Biting a huge hickey along her jawline, before grasping her earlobe in between his teeth, Killmonger growled, “So if you ain’t been fucking him, who you been fucking?”

Although Y/N knew she logically had nothing to feel guilty about, how he was questioning her made her want to lie down and worship him as an apology regardless. She took a deep breath to center herself, understanding that any sign of nervousness would be taken as an omission of guilt.

Y/N ran her hands up his arms and over his shoulder blades to hold his face in her palms. He reluctantly released her earlobe to allow her to face him, naturally allowing the blade to rest against her neck ever so gently.

“N’Jadaka. Erik, baby? Look at me, I have been trying to live without you miserably for the last few weeks. I’ve only been going out since Y/C/N got here and I have to beg for breaks because I’m basically his chaperone. You believe me don’t you?”

Erik looked at her with suspicion clouding his eyes. He dropped the knife and held her throat in his hands, squeezing just tight enough to hint to either pleasure or pain, pushing her against the front door.

“Ion know. Why should I?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

Y/N took a chance and palmed his face, caressing his cheekbone with her thumb. “Cause you know that no matter how much you stress me out, isolate yourself from me, or threaten anyone who seems to have more access to me than you, that I love your crazy ass.”

Erik squeezed a little tighter, not enough to hurt her but enough to reassert his dominance. Y/N put a hand over his, doing her best to ground herself in the feeling of his hands rather than how much she wanted to cum from the pressure of them.”

“Sorry,” Y/N squeaked out, “I love every version of you, no matter how threatening any of them may be and I physically can’t stand to have anyone else touch me the way I let you touch me.”

“Say it again.”

“I love you?”

“Nah, princess, the other part.”

“No matter how threatening-” she started, but was cut off by the growl emanating from Erik’s chest and the pulsing release and pressure of him allowing her small gasps of air. “You know what I mean Y/N, don’t test me lil mama.”

Erik held his squeeze on her neck, tilting it ever so slightly to lick the side of her face and hold her earlobe between his teeth, tugging.

Y/N couldn’t hold back the guttural moan if she tried. Just barely keeping her eyes from rolling back and donning her sweetest sub voice, she said, “I physically can’t stand to have anyone else touch me the way I let you touch me big daddy. It literally makes me nauseous.”

Erik released her ear with a wet snap against her face, “It does?”

Y/N hummed and nodded her head as best she could in her current predicament.

Killmonger covered the forgiving face Erik started to make, replacing it with one of his stern, unyielding looks. “Then why you leave me and give me the silent treatment for weeks?”

Y/N whined at the tightening of his hands, closing her eyes to savor the pleasure only he could illicit lighting her body on fire.

Erik bit her bottom lip roughly, nearly drawing blood. “That’s not an answer.”

Losing the battle against her libido and subspace, Y/N whined again.

In a faux sweet voice Erik said, “Awww, is little mama already too far gone in her head thinking about all the ways imma mark you.”

Y/N nodded again, lost in the many images she’d acquired from her sexual experiences with Erik and Kill over the years.

“Good.” And with those words, Y/N was suddenly looking at Erik’s ass and the floor as he stomped upstairs to her bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

He tossed her on the bed and roughly stripped her of her clothes, halter top first, bottoms and panties all in one fell swoop last, leaving her heels on.

He positioned her over his knee and popped her cheeks until her bottom was flushed with his favorite shade of reddish purple and warmed his hands with the heat she emanated.

By the time he was done, Y/N wanted to be a ball of tears, but could only sniffle, her voice too shy to make an appearance when Kill took the reins of their scenes like this for fear of upsetting him further.

Erik used his knee to spread her legs open far enough to see her flower drenching her thighs in her nectar for him. He took two fingers to swipe some of it onto them for him to put in his mouth and savor, groaning at how much sweeter she seemed to have gotten since last he held her.

He laid her onto the bed and got up to undress himself, slapping her already sore ass when she didn’t move a muscle.

“You know what’s up. Face down, ass up lil mama.”

Y/N groaned but slowly inched her way into position. Already feeling like jello, she barely put an arch in her back, struggling not to lay back down and pass out.

Killmonger was not happy with that. After he’d removed everything except his grills and chain he let both his palms come down on her cheeks simultaneously.

Sounding more animal than human, “If you don’t assume the position like you got some sense, I swear to the gods Y/N.”

She was still lethargic, but was eager to experience less of his painful assaults and more of the pleasurable ones that she knew were around the corner. It took all of her strength but she was able to inch herself into position, deepening her arch just the way he demanded with her arms by her side and her cheek resting against the comforter.

“Good girl.”

With how pliant she was to his commands and the evidence of how much she trusted and wanted him dripping down her thighs, it took all of his restraint not to plunge himself into her until he felt her cervix try to push him back out.

Y/N smiled faintly at the praise, humming and wiggling her ass in response.

Killmonger grasped her wrists as he knelt to get up close and personal with his pussy. He spread her lips so he could get an eyeful of her throbbing clit and blew on it, eliciting a guttural moan from Y/N, before replacing his hand back on her wrist.

“Just you wait mamas, you gonna be screaming and crying by the time I’m done with you.”

He licked her juices on both thighs, leaving hickies all over them both before he finally put his whole face in her pussy and ate. If it wasn’t for the grasp he had on her wrists, she would have collapsed immediately.

Erik was a good kisser in general, but Killmonger was a master at french kissing, especially her pussy, until she was questioning whether or not she still wanted the pleasure. Those deep soul sucking kisses always made her question her sanity.

He slurped up and suctioned her clit into his mouth like that’s where it belonged, flicking it with the tip of his tongue until she came with a silent scream, without ever releasing her tiny bud. Then he released it with a pop only to hold her lips open and spit directly onto her hole, watching his saliva drip down onto her clit. He flattened his tongue and licked like the dog he could be until she was a whining, moaning mess, tears streaming down her face just as promised.

Once the first sound hit his ears, she couldn’t stop the noises he was pulling from her if she was mute, let alone at the mercy of his insatiable thirst for her most animalistic responses.

Kill continued his assault with his tongue, moving through her folds in a rhythm only he knew. After he’d gotten two more orgasms from her that way, Y/N alternating between screaming and crying, he latched his plush lips back around her clit, assaulting the sensitive bundle of nerves, and plunged his two most trustworthy fingers into her, immediately finding her gspot and caressing it with an incessant ‘come hither’ motion until she was squirting and creaming uncontrollably. Not willing to let go just yet he dragged it out for what seemed like forever since she briefly lost consciousness and came to, lips still parted in the O of her silent screams, with his mouth still eagerly slurping up the waterfall his fingers were responsible for. All Y/N could do was turn her head the other way to watch what she could see of him, whining and moaning.

When she could barely release any more spurts he released her, licking his hand, fingers, and forearm clean as he slowly stroked his hard as steel member.

In the great deep of her sex haze, Y/N mumbled, “He brought dick too? How are we gonna survive dick too when he almost killed us with just his mouth and fingers.”

Erik chuckled at her ramblings, proud that he was, as usual, responsible for her senseless words.

When his precum made an appearance, he swiped it up with his thumb and rubbed it into her pussy, almost immediately replacing his thumb with the tip of his dick. Wanting to savor this moment of finally being able to reconnect with his pussy, he played with her, just like that. Rubbing the tip of his dick in both of their juices, up and down her pussy lips, circling her clit, and coming to apply just enough pressure to her desperately clenching hole, only to rinse and repeat. On and on he went, teasing them both until his quietly whimpering babygirl was back to guttural whines.

He knew she was right where he wanted her mentally when she started begging.

“Please big daddy, I’m so sorry. Please baba E, please baba, please. Please please please please please pleaaaaaasssssseeeeee.”

When he was good and ready, he pulled her up by her throat until she was flush against him, licked her tears from her cheek, and forced her to look him in the eyes.

“You don’t do that disappearing and silent treatment shit ever again Y/N. You hear me?”

Y/N nodded and blinked at him with a puppy eyed look that damn near melted the ice caps of his attitude, but he was quick to remind her who’s big daddy in their relationship.

“When I told you, you were mine, I meant that shit mama.”

“Yes, baba,” Y/N squeaked out.

He tongued her down with one of his sloppy french kisses and as soon as he felt her body relax in his hold, he did exactly what his body had been begging for since the second he saw her. He pushed himself into her until he felt the tip of her cervix try to push him all the way back out, savoring the fucked out look she wore as her body spasmed with the unexpected orgasm, he held them there letting her ride it out.

In this moment he was grateful for the years of curated discipline since the way her pussy clamped onto him almost triggered his own mind numbing orgasm. Although he successfully staved off his nut, he couldn’t stop the way all of his fight was knocked right out of him. Finally rid of the aggression that his Killmonger personality oozed, Erik was able to finally take in his queen, his Y/N, in all her sex hazed glory.

When she finally came down from her high he started moving, giving her slow and deep strokes as he showered her face and neck with kisses, hoping his attempt at lovemaking showed her just how priceless she was to him, how desperate he’d been without her.

Kiss, “I’m sorry too mamas,” kiss “I know how much you love me and I don't understand why,” kiss, “you,” kiss, “insist,” kiss, “on pouring all of the best parts of yourself into me.” He couldn’t help but shed a tear at the relief he felt, having her in his arms again. “I promise to do better,” kiss, “to listen and pay attention more,” kiss, “to treat you like the empress you are,” kiss, “just say you’ll come home with me,” kiss, “promise you’ll take your rightful place by my side mamas,” kiss, “claim your right as my queen.”

Y/N was a moaning, whining mess, barely holding onto consciousness and shedding her favorite kind of tears, just as promised.

Erik tucked his face into her neck, struggling to keep himself from cumming too soon since her pussy was gripping him like a boa constrictor, indicating that yet another orgasm wasn’t too far.

He held himself in the deepest parts of her and put a little whine in his hips. “Please mama, come home with me.”

Just when he thought he could hold out no longer she arched into him and screamed yes over and over, overwhelmed with her orgasm, and squirted all over them both. Erik came in her almost at the exact same time, his orgasm nearly knocking him out with how it overcame him from head to toe. Both of them slumped into the bed.

—

By the time he finally started to get up, her screams had quieted back to whimpers.

Erik slowly and gently removed her heels from her feet, massaging the soles with just the right amount of pressure.

He cleaned both of them with a warm washcloth and ran the tub, placing some bubble bath soap, epsom salt, essential oils, and dried rose petals in the water. Wanting to balance out the intrusive way he barged back into her life, he lit some candles and incense as well, and placed his favorite body oil of hers on the counter.

When he came back to get her in the tub, she was silently staring into space in the same place and position he left her. After he got her to turn over and sit up, he scooped her into his arms bridal and brought her to the tub, gently placing her into the suds.

Once he saw her relax he went back to the bedroom to strip and change the sheets, wanting their transition back into the room to be seamless. When he came back into the bathroom her head was leaned against the edge of the tub, eyes closed, and tears were streaming down her face, alarming him to the fact that although he’d won the battle, he was still losing the war with treating his girl with the care she really was looking for from him.

Choking up himself, he kneeled next the tub and leaned over her face, kissing the droplets left behind.

“I’m so sorry mamas. You know that right?” His voice cracked at the end.

Although she started nodding yes, she ended up shaking her head no.

“Can you open your eyes for me please?”

Y/N shook her head no again.

“Pretty please?”

Again she shook her head no. She was too scared to look him in his eyes, anytime he touched her or they made eye contact she folded to his desires and needs, abandoning her own.

A little defeated, but determined to win all of her back, not just her body, Erik switched tactics.

“May I get into the tub with you and hold you?”

Y/N hesitated a few moments before she nodded yes. As soon as she heard the rustle of him standing back up she scooted forward allowing him to sit behind her.

Once he was seated, Erik gently pulled her into him, urging her body to use him as she did the edge of the tub. The moment she relaxed in his embrace, head lolling slightly to the left, he started kissing up and down her neck from where her ear met her face to her collarbone.

When he felt enough time had passed, he tried to get her to open up to him again.

“Lil mama?”

Y/N hummed.

“Tell me what’s on your mind please, I promise to listen.”

Y/N held up her pinky and asked, “Pinky promise?”

Erik locked his pinky with hers and brought her hand to his lips, softly talking against it, “Pinky Promise.”

She pulled her hand away, putting it back in her lap to join the other one, under the water.

Taking a deep breath she started.

“Am I a toy to be played with Daka?” Erik was ready to answer but kept silent, knowing she needed to get all of her thoughts out before he interrupted her. “To be taken out of storage to be used and then tossed aside when you’re not getting the desired result anymore?”

Rubbing the sides of her thighs and suddenly very scared, he said, “ no mamas.”

“Then why do you get to demand time and attention and energy from me, but when I ask for a sliver of honest communication, the smallest amount of all three resources you have to offer me, you shut me out? Why is it only okay for you to communicate what’s going on with you and us when you feel like it, when it's convenient? Why do I always have to beg for you to lean on me, to use me softly? Why do I have to beg you to let me hold you. Why don’t you ever just ask? Why do I have to grovel at your feet to be held by you? Why is the only time you make love to me when you’re trying to win me back? Why?”

By the end of her list, Y/N was sobbing. Erik wrapped his arms around her body and tucked his chin in the curve of her neck and let a few tears drop himself before he answered.

“I don’t know mamas. I guess…,” he wiped the tears from his face and gulped down the rising tsunami of emotion that she so easily created with just a few sentences before he wrapped his arm back around her, “...I guess I’m just terrified.”

“Of what baby? Haven’t I been here? Haven’t I done the best to support you with all that I am, to remain honest with you and show you that I am loyal to our future?”

He kissed her shoulder and said, “you have. I just-”

Y/N pulled out of his arms to finally look him in the eye, “You just what? Aren’t my efforts to build a life with you enough?”

Erik palmed her face and gave her a deep kiss, hoping to transfer all of his emotion into it.

He put his forehead against hers and said, “I’m just so fucking terrified of losing you. To have the warmth of your love snatched away at a moment's notice. I’m terrified in a way I haven’t been in so fucking long that I just convince myself that its better to pull away and show you how unworthy I am of the full magnitude of your love.”

He pulled away and kissed her forehead, grateful she was finally looking him in the eyes again. “But this time of separation showed me I am nothing without you, just a hollow shell, no love to warm my soul and bones. Even the care and concern of my family isn’t enough to fill the abyss that’s created in your absence.”

Y/N swiped away the stray tears from his face, “that’s-”

“I know. Super intense.”

“Yes. But I was gonna say a relief to hear. You never really give me any verbal confirmation that you feel as deeply for me as I do for you unless I say I love you first.”

“I know mamas, but I promise to do better, be better, for you.”

Y/N pecked his lips. “No Baba. For you. You need to talk your feelings out loud so you can hear it too. You need to know that the only reason you’re able to love me so deeply is because you love yourself that deep, if not deeper, first. Understand?”

Erik smirked, yet again grateful that he had such a wise and loving partner who always held up the pieces of mirror he’d sworn he’d broken to pieces.

“Yea lil mama, I understand.”

“Good…,” Y/N kissed him again, deepening the kiss but teasing him slightly with how lightly she moved her lips against his. When she pulled away, she almost regretted bursting his bubble. “...cause I’m not going back with you until I’m ready.”

Erik’s face instantly fixed itself into a scowl. “But-”

Y/N held a finger to his lips. “I said when I’m ready, not never. I came home to get back to taking care of me, love me, and understanding what my needs are.”

His pout deepened.

“And I learned that I need to stop jumping when you say jump. So I go back when I feel that I’m ready, not because you showed up and demanded it of me. Okay?”

He was a little deflated, but still holding onto the hope of her eventually coming back with him.

“Okay, but I’m staying with you until you’re ready.”

“But-.”

It was Erik’s turn to hush her with a finger. “I already know what you’re going to say and my duties will be waiting for me when we go back together. Now that you’re back in my arms I’m in no hurry to lose the privilege again.”

“You’re not!”

“You’re right, cause I’m staying.”

All Y/N could do was chuckle, understanding that she’d lost this battle and relishing in the fact that she won the war. It seemed he was finally starting to understand what she needed because although she was indeed going to complain about him having responsibilities to return to, she really did need him to stay. That abyss he had was mirrored in her heart and only time with him would close it back up.

Both satisfied that they worked through the root issue, they went back to enjoying the bath, Y/N comfortably resting her head against Erik.

When they were all pruney and the water was verging on cold, Erik stood them up to drain the tub and turned on the shower to rinse them both. After he dried them both, he quickly lotioned his body with shea butter, grabbed the body oil and guided Y/N hand in hand, back into the bedroom.

He laid her on her back first to moisturize and massage her front, kneading out all of the tension she held. When he was working his way back up from her feet, he couldn’t help but get stuck between her thighs, using his thumbs to massage circles up them until he reached her pussy again.

Y/N slightly parted her legs, letting one bend and fall open for easy access. He immediately used one hand to part her lips so he could see her clit clearly.

Erik leaned down to softly kiss her clit a few times before he pulled away and used the thumb on his other hand to rub slow circles. He admired her form as he brought her to orgasm leisurely.

He went back to massaging her thighs until she returned from the heights of her pleasure.

His voice was more gruff than he wanted when he told her, “turn over.”

She easily compiled and continued his massage, paying extra attention to her sore ass.

When Y/N was 2 more seconds away from sleep and he was satisfied with his work he urged her under the covers and joined her. She tried to grab his hardened member to return the favor but he grabbed up her hands, kissing them to soften the blow.

“No, I needed to show you how softly I can treat you, I don’t need to cum right now. Sleep.”

Y/N pouted and whined, wanting to feel him connected to her again.

She lifted her leg over his as they faced each other and inched as close as she could with her hands in his, feeling his dick graze her pussy lips.

Putting a little more base in his voice, “Ay! What I just say lil mama?”

She whined out, “I don’t care, I just need to feel you in me Baba.”

Erik grunted.

Y/N donned her best puppy dog pout and begged with her words and body, wiggling in his hold and being able to feel the lightest brush of his hot skin. “Pleeeeeeaaaaassssseeee?”

“Fine, but careful what you asked for…” he said, sheathing himself in one stroke and stilled her hips before she could start moving. “...you just might get it.”

He released her hands and tongued her down, palming her face.

“Sleep Y/N.”

“But,” she said, her face scrunching in confusion.

“You can keep me warm, but that’s it for now, okay?”

She started to whine again but was cut short when he wrapped the hand palming her face around her throat.

“Sleep mamas. You’re going to need all of your energy in the morning.”

She wasn’t necessarily happy, but she also wasn’t necessarily dissatisfied. She did get her wish after all.

“Ok.”

Y/N tucked her head under his chin and started to drift before she sleepily said, “thank you for showing me how much you care Baba E. I’m really happy you’re here.”

Erik kissed her forehead and squeezed his arms a little tighter around her.

“Thank you for letting me.”

He was answered with her cute snores and let the sound lull him into the best sleep he’d had in too long of a while.

#erik killmonger #erik kilmonger x reader #Erik killmonger x black!reader #black panther fanfiction #black panther #erik stevens #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger smut #erik stevens x reader #fictioninmybloodworks #fictioninmyblood #erik stevens x black!reader

717 notes · View notes

ashthemadwriter-archived · 2 years

Text

Seeing you in a wedding dress for the first time

Fandom: Haikyuu

Pairing: Oikawa x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff,Humor

Format: Scenario

Warnings: Tiny bit of NSFW,but nothing too accurate

Word count: 0.9K

A/n: dude i wrote this at 3 am and i was supposed to be sleeping/studying for my upcoming exam in the morning,but im just obsessed with this scenario

not proofread

here you go Oikawa stans! youre welcome ;)

Suna version

it was just a crazy idea.an idea that popped into your mind the minute you laid eyes on the gorgeous wedding dress in the showcase of the shop near your college.

"what would Tooru's reaction be when he sees me in this?" you thought to yourself while caressing the soft,fluffy material on its skirt.

so you rented the dress,just for one night-tonight.it didnt cost you a lot because the owner had seen you gasping and literally drooling while staring at the dress,more than once,which made her feel bad so she gave you a remarkable discount.

And now here you were,wearing red lipstick and eye make up on, your hair chignoned Elegantly which couldnt have been done without the help of your roommate,who was sitting in front of you on her bed, her eyes moving from her watch to your face every ten seconds.

"what time he said he'll get here?" "in a few minutes" you mumbled,while scrolling through your phone,wishing to come across something interesting. "well it has been half an hour since he told you that,and i cant see any sign of him here" "SO IMPATIENT! why do you even care anyway?" you giggled as you present her an innocent smile, already knowing the reason why she was acting like this;but you couldnt miss an opportunity to tease her,could you?

"EXCUSE ME? are you for real? dont tell me that you forgot about how you made me stay at my friend's house the other night you wore a dirty outfit!" "but its not a dirty outfit this time!" "yeah! its a wedding dress! thats even worse!" she whined dramatically,pouting as the memory of that night became lively in her mind.her friend's house was not nice-not at all like her good old dorm room,which she had to share with you,unfortunately.you weren't a bad roommate,you were just...just...

too carefree when it came to being with your boyfriend.

you two continued chatting-which was basically you listening to her nag about things that was bothering her,and you were definitely on top of her list-until you heard a slight knock on the door. "babe? you there?"

you smiled as you heard the familiar voice that belonged to your boyfriend,and got excited cause it was show time!

"your prince charming has finally arrived,idiot" your friend says while opening the door,facing the usual nice while mischevious look on Oikawa's face. "well,arent you a pea-" he was planning on teasing her a bit longer,but was speechless when his eyes met with yours.

"Awwww what happened?did the cat ate your tongue?" you gave him a cocky smile,gliding toward him as you gyrated to give him a better view.

"so,what do you think?" he remained silent,but the sparkle in his eyes did all the talking for him.there wasnt much left for him to say.

however,there were plenty of things he could do.

within a blink of an eye,he literaly threw you on the bed,came on top of you as he crashed his lips into yours,tasting them harshly like a starved man.youre friend could swear that she heard the bed crack at that moment,but there were more important things to care about.

"h-hey! do this shit when youre alone together!" it was clear that you both heard her words,but anyone could tell that none of em really mattered right now.Oikawa was head over heels in love with you already. you were one of the most important things in his life and he really wanted to spend his lifetime with you,but seeing you in that dress...

you looked like an angel.an angel he wanted all for himself so badly.

at first you just continued your little make out session to tease your friend for a bit,but now? you couldnt resist his touch.

not when he was this passionate.

his hands traveling through your body,caressing the delicate skin with his fingertips as he comtinued smooching.you could hear his heartbeat,racing like hell.why was he so impressed anyway? you didnt really see this coming,but he was obsessed with you.he wanted to wake up with the feeling of you clinging to the side of him.he wanted to go to sleep with you in his arms,placing small kisses on your sensitive neck while breathing the sweet scent of your shampoo that was left on your hair.he wanted to be the one who gets to comfort you when youre feeling down.he wanted to be the one who you share kids with.he loved you,so much more than you can even imagine.

you were both running out of breath,but were too stubborn to break the kiss.air was not that important anyway...

your hands gently found their way under his boxers as you felt his hardened lenghth rubbing againts your clothed cunt,peeking at the room with your right eye just to realise your friend was gone long ago,

and you were too all over each other to notice.

Bonus:

◆you did buy the dress in the end,cause your beloved Tooru ripped it apart

◆and you actually started thinking about starting a family with him,and he seemed to be on the same page as you but was looking for a great opportunity

◆he got the opportunity when he found you in your bed looking kinda sick,with a used baby check on the drawer a few days after "the incident" :D

Reblogs are super duper appreciated! ty for reading this and i hope you enjoyed it :)

146 notes · View notes

imagine-a-life-like-this · 3 years

Text

All My Firsts Were With You (K.SM)

Warnings : suggestive, swearing

Word Count : 2487

Synopsis : they grew up together, practically attached at the hip. they were each other’s first kiss, first time, first love, and if it was up to seungmin, she would be his last as well.

“I think the only thing I’ll miss is you.” She smiled at her best friend, holding back the tears that wanted to fall so desperately.

“Don’t be so cheesy.” He replied, lightly poking her shoulder. She let out a laugh that almost made Seungmin’s heart stop beating. He studied her upturned smile and sparkling eyes, wondering why he suddenly felt warm.

“I should board now. Don’t want to miss my flight. I’ll call you later!” She hugged him quickly, and in the next moment she was gone. And that’s when he realized; he’s in love with his best friend.

She was standing in front of him, the same smile she always had adorning her face, the same face he fell in love with. He had to pinch himself to check if it was a dream, having her right in front of him, close enough to touch. “I missed you.” He was silent, studying just how much she’s changed in the three years she was gone. Her hair was longer, and she seemed to have lost a bit of weight, but she was still the girl he loved.

“Seungmin!” Jisung called, throwing his arm across Seungmin’s shoulders. “Who’s this?” He smiled at the beautiful girl in front of them, holding out his hand for her to shake.

“Y/N.” She smiled, sliding her hand into his.

“Jisung. How do you two know each other?” Jisung looked between the two of them, wondering exactly how Seungmin, the same guy who never looked at a girl, knew this absolute goddess.

“We grew up together.” Seungmin said before she could say anything. “Nothing special. Let’s go before we’re late.” He shrugged Jisung’s arm off his shoulders and took off in the opposite direction of her, leaving her standing there absolutely bewildered. She thought they’d always be best friends, but it seems like Seungmin had other plans.

“How did you nail that choreography that quickly?” Felix exclaimed; his eyes widened in amazement at the new girls talent. “I’ve been practicing that routine for weeks now.” He added, walking over to her with a water bottle for her to drink from.

“It’s not that hard when you break it down. Here, let me help you.” She handed the bottle back to him after taking a sip before immediately jumping into the routine, taking it slower to help Felix.

“I did it!” Felix yelled in excitement, catching the attention of other students using the same studio. The two spent the last hour working out the kinks of the routine before Felix finally nailed it. “Oh shit, I gotta go meet my friends for lunch.” He said as he looked at his phone. “Why don’t you come with? Unless you already have lunch plans.” He smiled his infectious smile at her, and she couldn’t help but agree, grabbing her things and following him out of the room.

“Hey Y/N!” Jisung beamed as he saw her walk up to the table he was sitting at, Felix looking between them wondering how they already knew each other. “I’m guessing you’re a dance major.” She smiled as she took the seat across from him, Felix sitting next to her.

“Yeah. Dance has always been my passion.”

“Listen, I’m sorry about Seungmin earlier. He’s not good around girls.” She giggled, telling Jisung it was okay.

“I disappeared for three years, I can’t just expect to come back and everything is normal.”

“I swear Professor Park has it out for me.” Seungmin cut off their conversation, slamming his lunch on the table, collapsing in the seat beside Jisung. “I studied my ass off and I only got a 92.” She smiled to herself while listening to her old friend rant, happy to know that some things do stay the same. “Y/N, what are you doing here?” He asked when he finally met her eyes. His voice was cold, so different than the way he used to talk to her. It was as if they didn’t spend everyday together, experiencing all their firsts with each other, and it broke her heart more than she’d like to admit.

“What’s wrong?” Seungmin asked her, cupping her face, and wiping her tears away. “Who made you cry?” His heart broke more and more with each tear that fell down her cheeks.

“The girls in my class. They keep making fun of me for being 16 and not having my first kiss. It’s so dumb, but their words really hurt.”

“Hey, look at me.” With his hands still on her cheeks, he angled her face to meet his eyes. “It’s not dumb it if hurt you.” He gave her a soft smile, wiping away another tear. “If it makes you feel better, I also haven’t had my first kiss.” He chuckled when her eyes widened in surprise. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s true.”

She sat there, studying her best friend’s handsome face, coming to a conclusion she was too afraid to say out loud. She knew why she hadn’t had her first kiss, and it’s not because guys didn’t like her like the girls assumed. It’s because of all the guys who confessed to her, none of them were Kim Seungmin. “Would you be my first kiss, Minnie?” She pouted, looking up at him.

“You want me to be your first kiss?” She wanted him to be her first everything, and if she was lucky enough, her last as well.

“Only if you want. I’d be your first kiss as well, so if you wanted to save it for-“ She was cut off by his soft lips pressed to hers. The shock quickly wore off and she kissed him back, taking in the feeling best she could, not knowing if she’d ever feel it again.

“First kiss completed.” He whispered, his forehead pressed against hers, his hand still on the back of her head. And in that moment, he not only became her first kiss, but her first love.

“So you and Seungmin grew up together?” Felix asked her the next day. They agreed to meet up at a café just off campus and walk to class together. “What was he like as a kid?”

“Pretty much the same way he is now, but he was nicer.” She giggled. “He’s always been worried about his grades. If it’s not 100% then what’s the point.” She quoted words he told her many times throughout high school. She remembered sitting with him while he studied, amazed at just how smart and organized he was.

“Was he always this cute?” Felix chuckled. She quickly pulled out her phone, showing Felix pictures of the two of them she had saved; some of the pictures taken from a photo album, whereas some she transferred from her old phone.

“He’s always been handsome, yes.” She answered, heat rising to her cheeks when she realized what she had said. Three years was not nearly long enough to get over him.

“Are you sure about this?” Seungmin asked as he hovered over her. Both of them were breathing heavy from the heated make out session they just shared, that slowly led them to the bed they were on now.

“You’re the only one I trust enough.” She answered. Her arms were lazily wrapped around his neck, and she looked up at him with stars in her eyes. Seungmin could get lost in the galaxy she held in her eyes, and if he’s honest, he has many times.

“It’s my first time too, so we’ll figure this out together.” He smiled before pressing his lips to hers again, melting into the kiss while he reached under her shirt.

The next morning, she woke up wrapped in Seungmin’s arms, a feeling she could get used to. She smiled at his sleeping figure, tracing over his face with her finger, studying each part in detail. She wasn’t sure if she’d get to see him this close again, so she was going to take in as much as she could. “You’re tickling me.” Seungmin mumbled with his eyes still closed.

“If you’re awake, we should get breakfast.” She laughed, trying to move from his arms, but his grip only tightened, bringing her closer to him.

“Ten more minutes. Just give me ten more minutes like this.” The feelings he thought he got over in high school were slowly returning, and he just wanted to hold her close a little longer. Mornings didn’t seem so bad when he woke up next to her. He hoped for many more just like this.

But it was at that breakfast that she told him she was leaving. And within that moment, she was his first time, and his first heartbreak.

She started spending more time with Felix, meeting him at the café every morning before class, and joining him for lunch, where Seungmin would ignore her existence as if she wasn’t there at all. She knew that the friendship she once shared with Seungmin was completely gone, and she knew it was her fault. If only she didn’t leave, then maybe Seungmin would still be hers.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” She turned to face the stranger asking for her and was met with a handsome man from her dance class, the same one she shared with Felix. He brushed his long, black hair out of his eyes before introducing himself as Hyunjin. “I was wondering if you wanted to have lunch with me today? I really want to get to know you better.”

“Oh, uh.” Before she could say anything, Felix was jumping in.

“That’s perfect! I was just going to tell you I couldn’t do lunch today!” He winked at her. “Take good care of her, Hyunjin.” And with that, he left the room, leaving Hyunjin standing there awkwardly.

“Looks like my lunch is clear,” She giggled. “Let’s go then.” Hyunjin picked up her bag from the ground before she could, and the two headed for a diner on campus.

After getting passed the cliché questions, both of them started to open up more, and the conversation flowed better. She found herself enjoying his company, laughing at the stories he told her, and watching as he laughed at the ones she shared. “You and Seungmin seemed to have quite the adventures with each other.” He chuckled, taking a sip of the drink he ordered. “You talk about him a lot.”

She blushed at the realization that every story she told Hyunjin included Seungmin. “Sorry.” She giggled, tucking hair behind her ear. “It’s just, we spent every day together growing up so all my stories include him.” Hyunjin smiled, shaking his head, and telling her it was okay.

He walked her to her next class when they were finished eating. “I enjoyed getting to know you. Hopefully we can do this again.” He told her before she could walk into her class.

“I’d like that, Hyunjin.” She smiled up at him. There was no doubt that Hyunjin was an attractive man, every girl at the school seemed to fawn over him, and maybe if her heart hadn’t been stolen years before, she would too. But unfortunately for her, her heart only beats for Kim Seungmin, even if he hated her. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She just wished she could move on.

“Where’s Y/N?” Jisung asked when Felix approached their table alone. A wide smile took over his face as he told Jisung about Hyunjin asking her out. “No way!”

“She was going to say no, so I told her I couldn’t do lunch with her today.” Felix shrugged. “Her and Hyunjin would make such a cute couple.”

“Talented too! They’d be the talk of the school.” Felix agreed as Seungmin sat down, asking what they were talking about. “Hyunjin and Y/N.” Seungmin couldn’t help but scoff.

“As if that would happen.” He chuckled before realizing that she was missing from the table. Though he ignored her when she was around, he had gotten used to having her around again. And honestly, he couldn’t explain why he ignored her. He knew it wouldn’t help rid the feelings he’s had for her for years. They spent three years apart, and he was still just as in love with her.

“It could. Hyunjin asked her out after class today.” Seungmin froze, his appetite completely gone. “You okay, Seungmin?” Felix asked as Seungmin threw his food back down, packing up his lunch and leaving. “You don’t think Y/N is the first love he told us about, do you?”

“If she is, why is he so cold towards her?” The two boys sat there, staring in the direction Seungmin walked in, coming to the same conclusion in their minds; Kim Seungmin was an idiot in love with his childhood best friend.

“Minnie, what are you doing here?” She asked when she opened the door, surprised to see Seungmin standing there. His hair was messy, like he couldn’t stop running his fingers through it, a habit he has when he’s anxious.

“Please tell me you’re not dating him.” Before she could say anything, he was speaking again. “Please just tell me you aren’t dating Hyunjin.” A scoff came from her lips as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“What does that have to do with you?” She asked, annoyed that her best friend has been ignoring her for months, but now he’s standing on her doorstep, begging her not to date someone else. Not that she could with how in love with him she was, but he didn’t have to know that.

“Because I don’t want you to be with someone that isn’t me.” She could see him blink back tears. She could see how distressed he truly was over the idea of losing her to someone else. “I don’t have a right to say this, but I couldn’t hold back anymore! I have no excuses for how I’ve treated you these last couple months, but I’m in love with you.” The tears could no longer be stopped and flowed down his cheeks as he continued to speak. “I’ve had all my firsts with you; my first kiss, my first time, my first love, and even my first heartbreak! It’s all been you! And I want to continue having all my firsts with you. I want to have my lasts with you. I want you to be my only because I’m only ever going to want you!”

She stepped forward, cupping his face with her hands, wiping away his tears with her thumbs before calmly speaking. “I’m not dating Hyunjin.” Relief flooded over Seungmin knowing he hasn’t lost her. “It’s always been you, Minnie. You stole my heart years ago, and no one else has had a chance since.” He wasted no time in crashing his lips to hers, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her as close to him as he could. This time, he wasn’t going to let her go.

336 notes · View notes

shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

harmless (xiii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, smidge of angst, guns, little bit of violence, obnoxious flirting, and kidnapping lol

Word count: 6.2k

A/N: welcome to chaos week >:) this is the first of three updates coming out this week (if i can finish the last one in time). big thank you to my love @no-shit-sherl0ck for the kidnaped!reader idea, and that one anon who suggested the inator that’s used here. i know you wanted to see it in a zoo but i couldn’t really figure out a way to use that so i referenced it a bunch in previous chapters. oh and also @ginevranights for this specific imagery

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Who the fuck kidnaps a villain in this day and age?

Saturday started normally enough.

Nat kicked Bucky’s ass in training, evening the score to 120 and 120. He blames it on the lack of sleep. She tells him that it’s his fault he stayed up late to binge watch 911 Lone Star.

He still thinks it was worth it.

The team’s sunshines and rainbows that morning. Someone had cooked up a batch of pancakes and fresh orange juice. Someone else burnt the bacon but left to feed his dog before anyone could complain.

Nat opened up the newspaper. Different sections went to different people until Bucky got stuck with the entertainment section. Fun, considering that he doesn’t even recognise half the names. He’d have to pretend to be interested until the next rotation.

He watches the orange juice levitate in front of him from the corner of his eye and just assumes that Wanda’s getting a refill even though she could have just asked him to pass it. He smells the next batch of bacon burning and figures that Clint is back.

Sam’s beside him, annoying him about how long it takes for him to read about which new celebrity relationship just ended and Bucky retaliates by reading even slower. Fuck you.

He’s on his second stack of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup when the doors to the elevator open and Marie steps out, laptop in her hand.

An instant chorus of hello’s and invitations to have some charred bacon resound through the table. She politely declines them with a small smile, instead opening her laptop and placing it in front of Bucky without further ado.

He looks at her questioningly, slowly swallowing whatever was in his mouth.

“An email for you.” She tuts her head towards it. “It has a video attachment of your friend.”

Bucky has plans to not watch the video in front of everyone, given that the content could range anywhere from you reading out fanfiction about him to a deep-fake of him singing a Whitney Houston song.

Both of which you have done before and would do again, without any hesitation.

“Aren’t you gonna watch it?” Wanda asks from across the table.

He slowly shakes his head no, cutting his stack into smaller pieces.

“If what’s in it is real, it’s important,” Marie stresses.

“What’s in it?” he inquires instead, hoping that the team would stop staring at him. If Marie was implying strongly that he needed to watch then something was wrong.

“Just watch it, man.” Sam’s statement has everyone agreeing with him. Bucky can’t refuse now, and if the team makes fun of him for the next month about how he looks good belting Greatest Love of All, he’s going to personally assassinate you.

He clicks on the email, noticing it came from a throwaway address. Probably untraceable, if the cards are played right.

The video opens to grainy footage, which is stupid considering modern technological advancements. If this is one more of your stupid LARPing sessions, it could definitely wait till after lunch.

But, he instantly recognises your silhouette strapped to a chair and suddenly the room feels very cold around him. His hand automatically clutches onto a bead from the bracelet you gave him that still remained tied to his left arm more often than not.

“Speak,” someone commands off camera.

“About what?” You sound annoyed, exasperated even.

“Why you’re here.”

“I’m here because you have unaddressed feelings of childhood insecurity.”

“I warned you to take this seriously.”

Bucky’s eyes widen slightly but his body relaxes the minute he reads the situation.

The team’s crowded around him, he can feel it. His attention remains on the screen in front of him.

“Who even are you sending this to?” You don’t sound the least bit threatened. “My roommate’s not at home but my cat is and I don’t think she’d care.”

”You’ve made a complete joke out of villains everywhere. Fraternising with the enemies, the Avengers,” he spits the name with so much vitriol. “You’ve erased what it’s like to be truly evil. Turned us into a laughing stock.”

“If it takes one person to undermine your whole movement then maybe it wasn’t strong enough to begin with.” You look at someone outside the lens, face scrunching in distaste. “Also your costume’s ugly.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you trace this voice?” Bucky asks, receiving an immediate confirmation. “Figure out who it is.”

“On it.”

“Tell them. Tell them we are a serious threat and are to be feared.”

"No,” you say resolutely. “You’re an overgrown manchild. Go watch Teletubbies or something.”

“She does not give a shit,” Clint marvels at the situation, a piece of half eaten burnt toast between his fingers.

You didn’t. And if he knew you in the slightest, which he prided himself on at this point, you already had six different ways of getting out of there.

“She knows she’s going to be fine,” Bucky murmurs, returning back to take a bite of his pancakes. “She’s probably still there just to irritate him.”

He zeroes in on your wrist to see if the teleportation watch was still there but no, your wrists are bare. Guess you forgot.

“You have to.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s how a real villain does it.”

“A real villain- what are you, gatekeeping the villain community?” You scoff. “You sound like a fuckin’ incel.”

“Just send them a message,” the guy bellows, hitting a table.

“She’s going to frustrate them to death.” An accurate observation, Sam.

“Okay, jeez, fine.”

Bucky just knows that you rolled your eyes at that moment.

He had faith in you, or in your abilities at the very least. While every wisecrack could possibly inch you closer towards harm, you probably wouldn’t be making them unless you felt completely secure in your situation.

“Help, I’m totally kidnapped and in danger. Save me because I can’t do it myself. This man is too powerful and strong and sooo scary.”

“Do you think she has a strategy?”

“Definitely.”

“You’re not worried, James?” Wanda asks curiously. “I thought she was your friend.”

“She is my friend.” He reaches over to take the jug of orange from across the table. “That’s why I’m not worried.”

“Are you going to fight the Avengers?” you interrupt his endless tirade. “Because that’s a stupid plan. You get how that’s a stupid plan, right?”

“Let them come. I’m prepared.”

“With what? A stick you found outside? A Nerf gun? Man, you’ve tied my hands with fuckin’ zip ties, you can’t be serious-”

“Shut up,” he roared and the stand shakes slightly from where he stamps his feet. “Our army is enough.”

“Wow,” you exhale. “I wish I had your confidence, I really do. I want to study you under a microscope.”

“I have reinforcements.” It sounds like he turns to the camera to address it directly. “This is a warning. Your friends have an hour to find you or things are gonna turn ugly. This is what real evil looks like.”

“Evil dresses in a dollar store Speedo, apparently.” The man pays you no heed, instead picking up the camera. “Hey, sarge, if you’re watching this, don’t bother. I’m fine, it’s not even the real me-”

The camera cuts to black.

“When was this video sent?” Nat looks at Marie, eyebrows drawn together.

“About ten minutes ago.”

Bucky clicks out of the email, determined to get at least half his breakfast in him before he left to see what’s up with your situation. A notification pops up immediately.

[email protected] just sent you an email.

A video attachment.

“We got another one,” Bucky informs the team, drawing their attention back to the screen from the informal conversation that had erupted between them about what they could do.

This time, there’s a subject line included.

Attack on the Clone.

"Ain’t that a Star Wars movie?" he asks, craning his neck to look at Clint.

"That's Attack of the Clones," Sam corrects. "Probably autocorrect."

Bucky narrowed his eyes in suspicion at him, jaw sliding outward before falling back into place. Enough times had Sam called him Fucky in the group chat and gotten away with it for him not to be wary.

“Or a code,” Wanda suggests, too many crime thrillers read and podcasts listened in her spare time. She occasionally brought them over to Self Care Saturday, introducing him to the world of true crime as a bit of light content while they snacked on chocolate chip cookies he baked. “Like the Zodiac.”

“For what?” Bucky peers over at her.

“All I remember from that movie is them rolling around a field together,” Clint mutters. “Maybe that’s how you’re supposed to save her.”

“I’m not saving anyone. Look at her, she’s fine.” Is he the only one who saw it?

When he’s met with skeptical looks and no other useful suggestions, he presses play on the video.

This time it's clearer footage. It hardly takes him a second to ascertain where it was.

"That's her lair." It showed the pathway leading up to the flat concrete building, exactly where the intercom should be.

There was a black Sedan parked haphazardly outside, engine still on judging by the sound of the radio blasting an AC/DC song.

Within a few seconds, someone drags you from the entrance of the lair to the car, despite your very clear protests and opposition, shoving you inside before it takes off in full speed, tires screeching.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., track the car from that video. Check all the CCTV and surveillance footage from around the area that you can find," Bucky commands, taking a sip of orange juice.

"Why would they send us that?" Clint pipes up. "They make their email untraceable but send us a video of the fuckin' abduction itself?"

"I don't know." Bucky shakes his head, setting his glass down. "She probably convinced them to."

It was an unusual scenario, he realised that. But his eyebrows lower in contemplation, his lip caged between his lip before a thought suddenly occurs to him. A laugh in disbelief almost escapes his throat ad he pushes it down with some freshly cut strawberries.

"And they listened?"

"I don't think you realise how annoying she can be." He knows, though. He knows. "Bet they regret it, though. I should tell them to keep her for a little longer."

"Voice recognition registers voice to someone named Chad, better known by his alias Soul Crusher. Surveillance footage places the car about thirty minutes away. Exact location sent to your phone GPS."

Soul Crusher. That was worse than Dr. Strange.

"I can make that fifteen." Bucky shrugs, setting down his fork and knife. If his hunch is right, the team didn’t really have to get involved. “See you guys later.”

“Do you want any of us coming with you?” Wanda gestures to the crowd at hand.

“I got it.” He pushes away from the table, depositing his plate in the sink, dropping an extra piece of bacon on the ground for Clint’s dog. “She’ll be alright.”

They watch him trail out of the room briskly, heading up to his room to change.

“Is it just me or is he too casual about this?” Clint continues staring long after he leaves.

“Both of them are weirdos.” Nat pulls open the newspaper again, going back to the sport’s section. “Who knows what goes in their heads.”

“Can confirm that not a lot goes on in his.”

Without Bucky to retaliate or grumble, a Steve walking into the room, sweaty and shiny after training becomes the new subject of jokes that morning.

For the first time in months, he’s had to bring a weapon or two along with him. Two revolvers and a couple of knives kept out of plain view. He wouldn’t need more than that anyway.

True to his word, it takes only fifteen minutes to get there, thirteen if he didn’t stop for the chain of ducks that crossed the street.

He’s also dressed in a little more leather than he usually reserves for your meetings. A jacket that brings to act as a windbreaker and tightly laced up combat boots make him look like he either stepped off a runway, or more menacing than usual depending on who was looking.

The GPS points him to an old warehouse near a more subdued part of the city. It was abandoned by the looks of it, and had been for a while judging by the lack of upkeep. Prime real estate.

He pulls off his helmet, hanging it on the handlebar along with his backpack before kicking the stand into place. The bike’s a few metres away just in case they decide to blow something up.

Bucky looks up at the warehouse, assessing the most damage he could do to it if at all it was needed. That thing could barely stand on its own, a grenade would absolutely decimate it. That wasn’t good news for you.

He sighs once before putting on his death glare, straightening out his shoulders into a stature that screams stone-cold, and pushes the door open, gun raised.

A mini-army of people ranging from their early twenties to late thirties stood guard at the entrance, all with rifles pointed at him. He counts fifteen, maybe eighteen.

“Oh, hell no,” a voice erupts from the back, followed by the sound of his gun being thrown to the ground. “No one told me that he was coming.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, his death glare not shifting and Glock not lowering.

“I’m out.” The same guy raises his hands up to show he meant no harm, slowly brushing past Bucky as he squeezed out of the building.

“You got five seconds to leave before I shut this door,” Bucky gives the rest of them an ultimatum. Not like there was a point anyway. SHIELD was sending down some people to account for the one day rise in new morons.

They all looked at each other, swallowing thickly before raising their weapons.

“I hope he’s giving you good insurance.” The second he finishes his sentence they all cry out in what sounds like a fucking war chant, launching themselves at him.

______

“They’re here.” Someone presses his ear to the door as if the gunshots and screaming weren’t enough.

“Brilliant. We’re ready.” Chad picks up the knife, running his finger along the sharp end. You try to see if you can use your Twitter-ordained powers of manifestation for a paper cut.

“How much are you asking them for?” You put forth a query instead, when it disappointingly doesn’t work.

“Asking who for what?” Chad stops his dumb intimidation tactic for a second.

“You know,” you insist like it was obvious, “my ransom. How much did you ask them to pay?”

“We didn’t-” He looks around at the other people in the room for confirmation. “-we didn’t ask for any.”

“Because I’m invaluable?” Your head droops to the side in mock flattery. “Aw, you guys.”

“We didn’t think of it,” someone from the corner behind you speaks up, coming to the aid of their boss.

“Now that’s just rude.” You tut, shifting maybe an inch or two in your bounds to try and get more comfortable. “Leaving aside your lack of preparation, let’s just assume he bursts in here, desperate and ready to bargain. How much would you ask for?”

“Three million,” Chad says confidently, gathering a nod and sounds of agreement from everyone else.

“Are you serious?” Your jaw drops, a scoff escaping you. “That’s all?”

His self-assurance falters a little bit, you can see it under his 5 Minutes Craft mask.

“Three mill-” You stop mid-sentence. “With this wiring? Ridiculous. Make it ten, I demand it.”

“We’ll ask for fifteen mil,” Chad proposes, his teammates agreeing again, a little more delighted than last time.

“Ask for thirty, you coward,” you argued. “Thirty million and a jet.”

“You’re not worth that much.” The dipshit diagonal to you pipes up with his unwanted and, frankly, useless opinion.

“And you are?” You whip around the best you can. “Henchman number four?”

“Megedagik,” he informs, standing up a little taller now that he was given some importance. “It means ‘killer of many’.”

“Did you just say your name was Mega Dick?”

“Megedagik,” he corrects.

You stare at him hard before turning away. “Alright, other than Mega Dick here, does anyo-”

A knife lands right next to your feet, driven at least an inch into the ground. You look up at the guy you managed to piss off within four sentences, his face now a beet red.

“These are brand new, asshole,” you barked, shaking your shoes around. “You’re gonna pay if there’s even a scratch on it.”

“Permission to kill her?” Meg growls, casting a side eye at Chad.

The boss man looks at you thoughtfully, assessing the repercussions of what might happen. You raise an eyebrow.

“Slow and painful,” he settles.

A small smirk makes its way onto your face.

“Title of your sex tape,” you quip as the man in the corner storms towards you.

_____

It’s all a flurry, really. A bunch of inexperienced newcomers versus one of the most skilled assassins the world had ever seen? Ten minutes tops.

Bucky doesn’t do any serious damage. A couple of broken bones but only out of necessity, a lot of concussions, and maybe a bullet wound, or three, here and there.

Most of the time he spends thinking about things that have absolutely nothing to do with what was going on. He forgot to take his laundry out of the machine. There was a biscotti recipe he had been procrastinating on trying. His succulents needed watering but he could do that once he was back. Was he wearing his good combat pants or was it the pair that had a hole in the pocket?

His left hand thrust outwards to shove someone away while he stuck his right hand into his pocket to check if it had frayed away. The person he pushed slams into a wall with a loud groan and no, his pants didn’t have a hole in them.

He stops to take a breather, assess what was going on. There are bodies scattered all around, mostly writhing in pain from minor injuries. Someone very bravely stands up, hands posed in front of him in a regular fighting stance.

“You sure about this?” Bucky asks, reaching for one of the concealed knives he hadn’t had a chance of using yet. It twirls rather nimbly between his fingers for something so dangerous, the hilt finally landing in his palm for a sturdy grip.

The man takes one look at the knife before sitting right back down on the ground.

“Good choice,” his voice drops to an octave lower than his self-esteem. He’s tired of this old routine but it works like a neat little party trick, often getting him the result he wanted. “Where?”

A few fingers point down the hall to the only room whose door was closed.

He makes sure to step over everyone who was lying along the way, ears tuned in to even the smallest of noises just in case one of them decided to attack him from the back. It doesn’t come.

He doesn’t bother creeping down the hallway. With all the ruckus that just went on outside, he’s pretty sure it’s obvious that they had an intruder.

Bucky kicks in the large steel door with ease, given that it was barely hanging on its hinges. His gun’s raised, muscles tight, and senses on high alert for any immediate threats.

It lands with a large thud, reverberating through the room. He’s reminded of your first meeting with him.

There’s a chair in the middle of the room with a person tied to it by a mixture of rope and tape. Others found themselves slithering around on the floor in a similar fashion, trying to get out of their bondages.

“Hey, James,” you call out, drawing his attention to you. You were sitting atop a table, legs swinging back and forth without a care in the world, a blade in your hand.

“You okay?” He tucks the gun into his waistband when he realises that none of the henchmen are going to be going anywhere soon.

“All good.” You hop off the table with a little spring in your step. “Did you bring your bike? I need a ride back to the lair. I think I left the TV on when I was, you know, getting kidnapped.”

“You coulda teleported back home before all of this even happened.” Bucky does a quick assessment of your body to make sure there weren’t any bruises or anything of the sort. “Avoided the whole thing.”

“Don’t have the watch with me.” Odd, since he knows you consider it one of your essentials but it just fuels his theory further. “Besides, if I just quit before we started, they’d keep messing with me over and over again.”

“Do you want me to punch someone’s face in?” He glances around the room at the ones wiggling about on the floor like fucking worms. “I’d be happy to.”

“Nah, I got a few in myself.” You rotate your wrist, other hand still holding onto the knife. “You know what, maybe I’ll have another go.”

He simply makes a noise in acknowledgement before he places a hand on the hem of your shirt, gently reeling you back. “I think you fixed ‘em up real good. That’s enough for today.”

“Fine but only ‘cause you said so.” You huff, looking past him and at the weirdos on the ground. “You hear that? This man just saved your life. Say ‘thank you’.”

A muffled chorus of what sounded like appreciation echoed through the room. Bucky awkwardly looks around.

“Damn right.” You walk over to the guy in charge of the whole event, bending down to his level. “If you ever try to fuck with us again...”

You stare straight into his eyes, unblinking. You hold up the knife to his Adam’s apple. Chad doesn’t dare to move other than the thick swallow.

You raise your finger and flick him in the forehead. “Get a better costume.”

The corner of Bucky’s lip quirks upward.

“Let’s go, sarge,” you announce, standing upright again and making a motion to follow you. “D’you have an extra helmet I could use?”

“Yeah.” He had brought one along in his bag, assuming that you’d need one once he noticed the watch was missing in the footage.

“Yay.”

The only storage space on his bike was under his seat and it’s just enough for an extra revolver. Clint asked him if it was his way of flirting with someone, give ‘em a quick spin around the city and then show them his gun. If looks could kill, Clint would be 7 feet under.

“You sure you wanna ride it, though?” He cringes immediately when he realises what it sounds like, waiting for you to smack the innuendo in his face. “We could wait for SHIELD.”

“Don’t really have another choice, Bucky,” you say absentmindedly, strolling out the room as you tossed the knife behind you.

He frowns at your indifference but turns around for a second to look at Chad. The man in question looks back viciously, his grandeur from that morning basically deflated and left to die along with his reputation.

“Might wanna reconsider the name,” Bucky remarks, doing a quick sweep of the area once more. “Soul Crusher.”

He waits until both of you are outside the cell and the door is shut on the ringleader and his circus clowns, handlebar twisted out of place so that they don’t escape for the time being.

“One second,” he calls, touch gently lingering on your forearm to stop you without even thinking twice about it. A famously uncharacteristic move for him.

"Hm?” You don’t even look like you notice his action.

“You sure you’re good?” he asks seriously, actual concern slipping through the question. “Do you need medical assistance?”

“They couldn’t hurt me anyway.” There’s something strange about the way you say it, almost assuredly. “I’m good.”

“Okay,” he concedes, his hand darting back when he realises it was still on your arm. His eyebrows furrow when he realises how instinctively he had reached out in the first place. He didn’t touch anyone, ever.

“What are we gonna do about them?” you inquire, stepping over someone on the floor to get to the exit.

“Marie told Agent Hill. They’re sending someone over.”

“They’re sending SHIELD for these wannabes?” Someone groans in protest from somewhere and you elect to ignore them. “Ew.”

“Just to make sure confidential information isn’t compromised in any way.” There’s a large bang that comes from the room they just left. Maybe one of them shot their teammate by accident. They were more than capable of doing it.

“I would never,” you exacted a little more solemnly, pushing the door open with your elbow to let the sunlight flood in.

“I know.” He doesn’t realise how dark it was in the warehouse until he steps out into the noon sun. “I’m pretty sure this is more about the fact that you were abducted.”

“For me?” The smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes the way he kinda likes. Something definitely felt off. “I love being class favourite.”

He doesn’t reply, a small grunt as he twists the handle of the warehouse door upwards, effectively jamming it.

“Can I drive?” You bat your eyelashes at him innocently, disregarding the loud screaming that came from inside as those less injured probably regrouped for a last ditch attempt.

“No,” he doesn’t hesitate in replying, handing you a helmet and buckling his own securely.

“But I just got kidnapped,” you complained, watching him swing a leg over the bike and straddle it. Okay then.

“All the more reason for you not to drive right now.” He mentions for you to get on, squinting at the warehouse a few feet away.

“Fine, but next time I’m driving,” you grumble, climbing on the back.

“Do you even know how to?” His head is tilted to look at you from the corner of his eye, voice heavier on account of the obstruction on his face.

The door starts shaking violently and he knows for a fact that it won’t hold up for much longer. Some of those who he had knocked out probably had been shaken awake again for manpower.

“I can learn.” You take a pause, mischief seeping into your next words. “You can teach me.”

“No.” He didn’t exactly practice what was considered safe, law abiding driving. He just got from one point to another and that’s all he cared about.

“Then I’ll do it myself.” You sound determined. “I’m going to leave a note for us in the lair.”

“You do that.” He revs the engine when something solid hits the metal door. As guessed, their usage of props to push it down faster was coming into play. “Now, can you hold on to something? We need to go.”

If only those idiots just realised that the windows covered by newspapers were right there, ready to be broken.

“Only if you promise to let me drive next time,” you say defiantly, drawing this whole ordeal out.

“Whatever,” he urges. “I promise. Now can we go?”

“Wait for it...” There’s a devilish smile on your face. “One.”

There’s a loud creak as the door finally gives way.

“Two.” The same people you left tied up in the room burst out, almost stumbling over each other in the process.

“Three,” he completes it on his own, not waiting for you to finish because God knows how long you’d stretch it out just for the drama.

Your excited screech of laughter as he narrowly misses a rod that gets thrown at him like a fucking javelin temporarily distracts him from the brain freeze he gets when your arms wind around his waist to hold yourself in place.

There’s angry screaming and bullets that whiz past in an attempt to get him to stop but a swift turn around a corner, pulling the both of you out of their sight is enough to get rid of them.

“We should get a few weapons and go back,” you yell over the wind rushing by, barely audible.

“You do that in your own free time,” he shouts in response, yanking you through narrower lanes and less popular streets.

“Maybe I will, you bore.”

Still, you shut up for the rest of the ride, only grumbling when he stops the bike to tell you that no, you cannot let go just because you want to throw your hands in the air like in the movies.

You hop off when he finally pulls up on the street outside your lair, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. He waits patiently as you unbuckle the helmet, switching off the engine.

“You gonna drop me off at my door too, now?” You snicker, fingers pulling off the helmet.

He looks at you for a second before dropping the kickstand into place and dismounting from the motorcycle.

“I was kidding.” You laugh, handing him your headgear that he shoves into his backpack.

“You’re pretty capable of gettin’ abducted along the way.” An absurd notion, considering it’s a short path from the road to the door.

“Oh, how chivalrous.” You let him tag along anyway, for his peace of mind.

“My ma didn’t expect any less.” A couple of sharp lessons from Winifred Barnes and Bucky was nothing short of a damn angel.

You knock on the door three times, crossing your arms over your chest as you waited.

“Aren’t you the one with the key?” Bucky questions, one hand on his waist.

The door swung open in the middle of his sentence revealing... you.

Another you.

“Nah, she has it.” Ex-Kidnapped-You raises your head in acknowledgement at Doorway-You.

“Ah.” He fucking knew it. An unnatural sense of smugness blossoms in his chest.

“Hey,” the both of you said at the same time.

Doorway-You looked way more relaxed, a little less grimy and dishevelled but exactly the same.

“Buck, I see you met my other half,” the you from the doorway greets him. “Or other whole, actually.”

“Sure did.” He sends a glance at Ex-Kidnapped-You.

“You can go on in. Big first day, huh?” Doorway-You refers to the you beside him.

“You wouldn’t believe,” Ex-Kidnaped-You mutters, pushing past the entrance and disappearing inside.

“She gonna be okay?” His gaze trails after your clone.

“Oh yeah, just needs to recharge.” You turn around to make sure she’s fine. “She’s made of some pretty strong carbon, technically almost indestructible.”

No wonder ‘you’ said they couldn’t hurt you.

“Heya, sarge.” You draw his attention back to you. “Always good to see you.”

“Can’t really say the same about you.”

“Ever the emotional repressor, Mr Barnes. I like this little leather show you got going, did ya wear it just for me?”

He shifts his balance to his other foot, feet slightly wide apart. “Take it that the clone machine finally worked?”

“I was in the middle of celebrating.” You sigh, recalling the events of that morning. “Teleported home for a second to get some champagne and when I came back she was gone.”

“Irresponsible.” He tsks, head shaking in disappointment.

“Sorry I didn’t take amateur kidnappers into account for my risk factor analysis, Bucky,” you shoot back, pressing on his name for added annoyance. “Anyway, I did the responsible thing. I sent all the evidence I had to you guys.”

“Real clever.” Bucky looks at you in dry amusement. “Attack on the clone? Really?”

“Hey, always make time for a good pun.” You finger gun, lopsided grin on your face. “Did the team like it?”

“They thought it was a typo.” Or a code. He really had Wanda to thank for his big revelation. “Your video didn’t help either.”

“Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.” You laugh, crossing your arms over your chest.

He doesn’t reply, pursing his lip inwards in sympathy, but more so to conceal a smile.

The happiness drops from your face slowly, horror taking its place. “Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.”

“Good job, your machine worked,” he adds helpfully.

“C’mon, there were so many differences,” you whine, the success of your endeavour the last thing on your mind.

“That is your literal clone,” he points out, only to see you- clone you- walk into the giant box in the corner of the room, bright green light emanating from it like a xerox machine.

“How could they not tell the original apart from a copy?” You look genuinely offended. Insane. “Not even Sam?”

“Guess you’re not unique enough.” A rise and fall of his shoulders signify his attitude towards this whole thing. “Think I like your copy better, too, actually.”

“You’re so mean.” You puff in disbelief. “I’m a 100% original. How many mad scientist teachers do you know?”

“Two.”

“I don’t mean now, that’s not even the-” You poke at his rock hard chest. “You are so much more annoying than when I first met you.”

He thinks it’s good relationship development.

“I have to deal with you every weekend.” He watches your finger drop from his chest. “Picked it up along the way.”

“Boo hoo, talking like you don’t have deep, deep feelings for me.” You roll your eyes. “I see right through you, Bucky Barnes.”

“Can you see the part that couldn’t give less of a shit?” He gestures to himself. “It’s all of it.”

“You think you’re such a comedian, huh?” You narrow your eyebrows. “How did you know she was a fake then, huh?”

Busted.

“Probably ‘cause you didn’t talk as much today,” he dodges. “Actually had some peace of mind for a change.”

“You knew before you got there, you liar.” You push past his fabrications. “You figured it out before everyone else.”

“You literally put it in the title.”

“Yeah, but the rest of the team saw it too.”

“Rest of the team didn’t know you were building a goddamn clone machine for months.”

“You remembered that?” You pulled away, palm over your heart. “Oh, sarge, you paid attention to me.”

His nose twitches.

“You said it, like, eight hundred times.” He could use both his hands to count the number of references you had offhandedly made in the last three weeks alone.

“Why'd you go save me when you knew it wasn't real?” you continue to challenge relentlessly, knowing fully well that he was fibbing.

“Because you fuckin’ peer pressured me. Had the whole team around me when you sent your little video during breakfast.”

“Just admit it,” you coo, ignoring all his justifications. “You noticed it was fake me right away but showed up anyway because you’re wildly in love with me.”

“No,” he says stiffly.

“No as in you won’t admit it you have a crush on me, or no as in you didn’t know it was fake me?”

There was no winning this.

“Good day to you.” He pulls the motorcycle helmet on to hide the expression that plain as day screamed the former of your two options.

“Also,” you bring up indignantly, “she even got to ride the fucking bike and I’ve been asking to drive it for months now!”

“We-” he chooses his words carefully. ��-compromised.”

“Oh, you did?” Your voice lowers at the newfound information, interest piqued. “I’m gonna hold you to that then, whatever it is.”

“Doesn’t count.”

“Absolutely does,” you huff. “A promise is legally binding. Blue’s Clues taught me that.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

“You’re my knight in leathery armour,” you swoon, switching sides immediately, “Kinda.”

“See you next week,” he says in farewell, determined to leave before you made it worse. “Try not to get killed by then.”

“Why, so you can do it yourself? Protective much?” You pull him back when he starts walking away, laughing slightly. “Wait a second, you weirdo.”

He sighs, staying put anyway, arms crossed impatiently over his chest.

You pull out the pen tucked behind your ear and slowly tap him twice on each shoulder in a makeshift knighting ceremony. “For your sacrifice.”

He rolls his eyes at the ludicrousness, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth.

You ignore his lack of enthusiasm, pressing your fingertips to your lips in a small kiss and then to his nose, given that it was the only part of his face you had access to.

“That was for your bravery.” You grin brightly at him and he sure as hell is glad he’s wearing the stupid helmet because he can feel his cheeks light up a bright crimson.

“Thanks.” His voice sounds gruffer than a second ago. He clears his throat.

“Now you’re my knight in leathery armour,” you fawn, nearly falling over yourself dramatically. “Let’s ride into the sunset together. I love you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he calls out over his shoulder, turning away to return to his bike. “I despise you.”

“But you don’t.”

He really didn’t.

also i managed to fuck my phone up really bad so all proceeds from my ko-fi go towards getting it fixed

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

923 notes · View notes

wheelsup · 3 years

Text

the taming of the shrew | one

he is more a shrew than she

penelope reveals her plan to get you and spencer together. unfortunately, her plan has a few hitches.

A/N: again, big thanks to @homoose for being my helpful beta reader, and to YOU for reading it now.

category: fluff, spencer reid x fem!reader, series

wc: 4.1k

<- prev | next ->

Penelope came back to your place the following night, bearing a new bottle of wine and a collection of materials she mentioned were integral to executing the plan.

Very quickly into Penelope’s explanation of this Genius Plan –– her words, not yours –– you remembered what it was she did for work. Officially, she was some sort of technical computer-y person for the Federal Bureau. As you knew her, she’s a danger to society and anyone with a traceable digital presence.

She managed to construct a comprehensive list of every place in D.C. and Virginia that her friend liked going to, along with the approximate times in which you were most likely to find him there. Approximate meaning, exactly which days he visits and the roughly time of day, down to a mere one hour margin of error.

You scanned the list over, shocked at its detail. Where he cut his hair, got his coffee, bought his books. His favorite restaurants, the chess clubs he’s a member of, his local hospital.

His local hospital?!

“I’m not going to need to know that, am I?” you paused.

“Probably not, but it comes in handy with this job,” she shrugged with a nonchalance that was rather alarming.

There had to be a dozen more places on the sheet –– ranked, in order of his (assumed) preference for them. Penelope calculated it based on the frequency of his visits, their average duration per session, and how often he’d mentioned about the place.

“What?” she tossed her palms up, taking offense when you asked her if she had evil plans to take over the tristate area. “Hang out with him long enough, you tell me if you pick up a knack for researching or not.”

Researching. Mining private data through questionable methods. It’s a small difference to Penelope.

“Remind me not to get on your bad side, Penelope,” you muttered under your breath, flipping the sheet back and forth. “You could ruin my whole life with ten minutes on a computer.”

“I wanted to be thorough,” she defended, shrugging. “And I’d only need five.”

You laughed through your nose, giving the paper one last scan. “You left out one important thing, though.”

“No, I put his home address on there,” her brows wrinkled together as she pointed it out on the sheet with one hot pink polished finger.

“His name,” you berated. “Jesus, you think I’m going to show up at his home?!”

“Again! I’m thorough,” she cried at your accusatory tone. “His name’s Spencer. You’ll like him when you meet him.”

You didn’t doubt that Penelope’s friend was a likeable guy, but you weren’t exactly dying to go out of your way to meet him. You told her that you’d get around to it when you had a chance and left it at that.

And two weeks later, you found yourself in need of a caffeine fix that your tea kettle wasn’t strong enough to satisfy. You started on a new piece late the previous night, and midnight rolled into four in the morning, which pushed you into the arms of seven o’clock. Reinforcements were needed.

Throwing on a large sweater to cover up your messy clothes and grabbing the closest pair of shoes you could find, you originally planned on heading to your usual spot just around your street corner. Just as you were leaving, the list, still sitting untouched in the exact spot that Penelope left it in, caught your eye.

It’d been a while since you told Penelope you’d help her out. Enough time had passed that you now felt like there was an invisible deadline over your head.

Maybe it won’t hurt to try something new?

Besides, meeting someone at a coffee shop seemed like an easy, foolproof way to go about this. From all the movies and romance novels, you knew that cafes are the pinnacle of meet-cute situations. Or, in your case, a meet-forced.

Regardless, it should’ve been simple enough, and it would’ve gotten the favor off your shoulder.

You scanned the sheet for the cafe Spencer would be at on a Thursday at 8 a.m., and got there with barely five minutes to spare before he was expected to show.

It was just your luck that he had to pick a cafe practically as far from your home as he could get, and the transfer train had to have a delay that made you walk the last three-quarters of a mile there. Call it crazy, but you didn’t expect to actually have to put in work for this. You expected it better be worth the hassle.

You took a seat in the back of the cafe to catch your breath as you waited for him to show up. Sitting in the booth, with your head down so you coudn’t be seen, the plan started to feel stupid all over again. You were running around the city, spying on this stranger, and for what?

The silver bell hung over the door frame interrupted before your thoughts could travel down that path of questioning. It rang each time a new patron enters, and within the next twenty minutes it rang only eight or nine times. None of them appeared to be Spencer.

You were prepared to call this one a failure and leave, when you realized your colossal mistake. You only had his name, and no idea what he looks like. So unless he happened to wear a name tag around you could’ve already missed him. You realized then that there were more than a few flaws in this plan.

Keeping an eye on the door, you dialed Penelope’s contact as a swarm of new patrons flooded in.

“How am I supposed to know what he looks like?” you whispered into the phone, failing to cover it with a hand cupped over the speaker. Penelope was confused for only a second by the apparent lack of context.

“Oh! He’s tall, has mousy brown hair but he cut it recently. It’s like… missing on the sides, but it’s all there in the front!” she explained.

What the hell does she mean missing?

“Pen, brunette? That’s like all the guys in here…” You took a look around the full cafe; various men typing on computers, taking calls. All of them looked the same, from their brown hair to their khakis and puffer coats. “You’re going to have to give me a little more than brown hair.”

Penelope struggled to explain and with each new feature she gave you, your mental picture of him got more clouded. “He’s skinny! Dresses like a vintage teddy bear!”

“Does he have kind of like… a hot English teacher vibe?” you quirked your head, spying a man approaching from the sidewalk and drinking him in with your eyes. Tall, brunette, clad in corduroy head to toe with a plaid sweater vest underneath. Vintage Teddy Bear F/W 1978 collection.

“Yes! He teaches sometimes! And you think he’s hot?”

Your mouth gaped even though she couldn’t see you. “No, I - I didn’t say that. I said he had the vibes of a hot teacher.”

“And how different is that from saying he’s––”

“Pen, I gotta go. Your guy’s walking in.” You put the phone away before she could pick apart what you said.

The bell on the front door rang as he came in and you stared intently at his face. If this was like the movies, he’d turn his head right then, at the perfect time, and make eye contact. He’d fall madly in love from the first look, and your work would be done. You sat at the edge of your seat, burning holes into his skull, waiting for that moment.

But alas, he never looked up from the linoleum flooring as he walked up to the counter. With a groan, you slid out of your booth and quickly hopped into the line before anyone else could claim the spot behind him.

New plan: eavesdrop, order the same coffee as him, and pretend to go for the cup at the same time. Laugh about the coincidence, how if you share the same coffee order you must certainly have a lot in common, and have him fall in love with you.

But you overheard him rattle off his order and were absolutely horrified. Black coffee, extra sugar. Like, extra, extra sugar.

You were going to need a second change of plans.

You eyed him up and down, searching for something you could approach him about. He was donning black converse under a fitted pair of dark brown corduroy trousers, with a blazer to match, and a deep green plaid vest underneath. On paper, this outfit shouldn’t work. In practice, it… really did.

A little too well, given how good he looks in it. More fashionable than a federal agent ought to be as required by dress codes, right?

“Can I help you?” you heard, and it poked the bubble of your thoughts. Your head shot up to meet his for the first time, eyes wide as heat crawled up your face.

“Uh. No ––” Shit. You didn’t even realize how long you were staring at his legs. Long, long legs. And shit, why did you say no? That was your opening to talk to him.

The man –– Spencer –– nodded his head slowly, uncomfortably, and turned away with a forced grin. He grabbed the coffee cup placed on the counter and you thought now was the time to say something. But by the time you thought of it, he’d already picked up his cup and made his way to the door.

The stupid silver bell mocked you as he left.

The first attempt left you slightly jilted, but a few days later you found yourself in need of a few grocery items. You just happened to be in his neighborhood that day, and though it was very much out of the way of your own, you didn’t plan on it being a problem. He’d never see where you lived anyways, and he’d never need to know how unlikely this chance encounter really was.

You had Penelope text you the address of his regular grocery store, and upon arrival, felt immediate concern. It was not a grocery store. It was a convenience mart slash liquor store at the corner of the street, below a building of worn apartments.

As you walked through the aisles, the only things you found were a large assortment of wines that took up half the small store space, an aisle of candy packets and chips, a section for household supplies, and one measly aisle for canned and boxed foods.

Cereal, instant noodles, soup cans, pancake mix… nothing very fresh.

Spencer seemed like a pretty scrawny guy. You now believed it might’ve been from the fact that his food choices were so off-putting that he simply didn’t eat. It wasn’t your place to be concerned, but you decided that if you ever ended up taking him out, a farmer’s market might be good for him.

You loitered around for perhaps longer than necessary. The inquisitive shop attendant asked if you need help –– as in, why are you still here, get out of my store –– and you told her you were just really conflicted on which detergent brand you needed. Finally, the man you were after arrived at the scene.

“Hi, Dolores,” he greete with a small wave. The attendant, Dolores, greets back with a positivity that she sorely lacked when talking to you. Dolores has favorites, apparently.

An unexpected panic settled in your stomach and you quickly turned back to your selection of fabric softeners. You weren’t hiding, you just didn’t want him to catch you staring again. You picked up your two props, pretending to read the labels on the back and compare the chemical formulas on each of them, when you saw him out of the corner of your eyes.

He went into the aisle in front of yours, and over the short shelves you saw the back of his head sweeping over the modest food section. He turned around to inspect the other side of the aisle, and you ducked your head even lower. It was in vain. He spotted you anyway.

You fixed your eyes even harder onto the bottles, afraid to look anywhere else. He shuffled out of his aisle and turned the corner into yours. You started sweating a little.

“Uhm. Excuse me,” he said.

“Yeah?” You looked up from your bottles, putting on your best caught-off-guard face. Like you were a girl in a movie, reading a book on the beach (not detergent labels in a liquor store) and your romantic interest just noticed how beautiful you looked doing it, deciding he had to introduce himself.

“Can you… can you move…” he asked, gesturing to the section of cleaners that you’re blocking.

Never mind.

“Oh! Yeah, sorry.” You burned up, moving out of his way. He reached for what he needed and you peeked down to inspect the contents of his basket. Organic whole wheat bread, cream of mushroom soup, and somehow, he’d managed to find the only two apples this place must carry. At least there was light at the end of the dark, dark tunnel.

He tossed a bottle of Snuggle fabric softener and you raised your brows. Given that he was “grocery shopping’’ in a three-piece suit –– a good one, too, black trousers, vest and blazer with an eggplant purple shirt and lavender tie –– you would’ve expected him to simply send his clothes out for dry cleaning.

“Snuggle, huh?” you said. He gave you a confused look. “Oh, uh. I was looking at these. Couldn’t pick between the two.” You raised your two bottles of softener; Snuggle and Tide.

You needed him to know you weren’t just saying Snuggle to insinuate that you would like to do that to him. You remembered Penelope telling you he had a degree in chemistry or some sort of science field, and asked, “Is… is that one like, more organic? I was trying to read the formulas but I don’t… I don’t recognize the chemicals,” you trailed off. You could see yourself losing his interest the more you spoke. He barely looked at you as he grabbed whatever else he needed.

“I don’t know… I just like it,” he bristled. You looked down at the bottle and flipped it over to the front. It had a drawing of a teddy bear on it. How fitting.

You go to comment on it but yet again he’d made an escape, already at the checkout counter and unloading his basket by the time you looked up again. You rolled your eyes, wondering if it’s even worth it to follow him into line and see if he sparks up a conversation this time.

You could tell that he wouldn’t. So you gave him the space to buy his items and leave.

You didn’t really need the detergent, but Dolores gave you a pointed look before you could even think about putting it back on the shelf. You ended up buying the detergent, a loaf of bread, and two packets of sweets out of guilt.

As you took the train home, digging into your packet of sour peach rings, you began to doubt if you can carry out Penelope’s request.

After two failed attempts, you were prepared to tell Penelope that this just wasn’t going to work out. You didn’t expect it to be this difficult to talk to Spencer nor did you see yourself getting closer to him anytime soon. It would be best if she just found someone else to do it.

You caught her in the hallway, leaving her apartment just as you came home from the store. It seemed like as good of a time as any to let her know how unsuccessful your escapades were going. With your tail between your legs, you approached her with the intention of breaking the plan off.

But the second she saw you, it was like she could read through you. She clocked what you were about to say and before you could, she gave you a warm hug. It was the first one you’d ever received from her, actually. And she thanked you for trying.

It didn’t make you feel guilty, per se, but it definitely made you feel weird about telling her the news. So you bit back on telling her what you were really going to say. She didn’t need to know the details of your failure, or the fact that you were seconds away from giving up on her friend.

Maybe you didn’t need to give up right away.

After all, you did only talk to the guy twice. Don’t they always say the third time’s the charm?

You left the conversation at just that –– letting her know that you’re happy to do this for her, even if you aren’t really –– and slinked back into your apartment. The list, buried under the magazines and paint tubes and half-full cups of cold coffee on your table, called for you.

If by any stroke of luck you happened to share one interest with this guy, you promised yourself to give it one more try.

According to the list, that overlapping interest was the wonderful world of Gatsby Books –– a small, locally owned bookstore residing in the heart of D.C. ’s arts district. That neighborhood was smack in the middle of your’s and Spencer’s, and it was where the gallery you showcase at was.

You’d been meaning to get down there for a while now, anyways. It really was the cutest bookstore in the world; inside it lived a white, bushy-furred cat named Gatsby, and he was always there. After all, it was his bookstore.

It wasn’t such a burden to make your visit fit Spencer’s schedule, really. And it would make Penelope happy if you did. So on Saturday afternoon, you took a lovely walk through the sunny arts district of D.C., a smile on your face and a tote in hand for all the books you were planning on hauling back.

The smell of paper and coffee greeted your nose at the door, and you practically fell into a trance, letting it lead you through the aisles of the store without much thought of where you wandered. Not that it mattered, you could’ve roamed the shelves aimlessly all day long.

In the mystery and thrillers section, you found Gatsby. He jumped down from his perch on a step stool and weaved between your legs, greeting one of his long-time regulars. He was such a good shop owner.

“Hi, Mr. Gatsby.” You smiled and bent down to give him a little head scratch when he started running off in the other direction, taunting you into following him.

He rounded the corner and came to a stop at a pair of boot-clad feet; your eyes moved up to find your favorite employee (after Gatsby, of course) restocking the shelves.

“Miles!” you whispered, but he still jumped out of his skin. He turned around, hand still over his chest, and sighed when he realized it was just you. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” you laughed.

“Hey, long time, no see. Back for some more recommendations?” You ‘ooh’ed at his offer.

“I was just gonna say, the ones you gave me last time were so good. I finished them in, like, a week.”

“Really?” He smiled, brows happily up his forehead. You nodded in assent. “Okay, well I’ll give you more this time, see if the list’ll last you a little longer than that.”

You grinned eagerly, following him to the shop counter where he pulled out a stack of bright green post-its and a pen.

“I’ve actually been waiting for you to come in, I already had these in mind for you,” he mumbled, scrawling across the paper quickly. He handed the note over, and it took a moment to decipher the chicken scratches.

“Okay, first you gave me Al-Shayk and Bradbury. Now you’re giving me Chaucer, Dickens, and Doyle,” you recited the note, giving him a teasing look. “Are we just going through the alphabet, Miles?” you joked.

“Honest mistake. But I’d be happy to give you all the other twenty-two letters of the alphabet if needed.”

“I might hold you to that.” You nodded, folding the post-it in your palm to prevent the sticky backing from gunking up. It’d make quite the good bookmark for later. “Thanks for these!”

“No problem, just a part of the job.”

Nonetheless, you thanked him again before disappearing back into the aisles. You found Miles’ books as well as a few of your own and nearly lost yourself in the rows of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, until you made a turn. Standing in the middle of the next aisle was Spencer.

A week ago, he was the whole point of coming to the store. That day, you completely forgot about it, and it stopped you in your tracks to see him there. He was just standing in the middle of the walkway, staring blankly at the shelf in front of him.

“Excuse me,” you grinned, “Could you move?”

You thought it was a cute reference back to the laundry detergent fiasco, a chance for you to turn the tables, but he had no reaction to it whatsoever. His face was straight as he merely pivoted his shoulder out of your way as you reached for the book you needed; The Narrative of John Smith.

His eyes narrowed at you and his nostrils flared, and you wondered if it was called for because you grabbed the last copy they had in stock.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want this?” you asked, waving the book in his face. He was just standing there for so long, you didn’t think he actually wanted anything since he never picked it up.

“No,” he said coldly.

Contrary to Penelope’s review, he didn’t actually seem that warm of a person. But you smiled tightly at him, letting a forced laugh fill the stale air.

“I… I swear I’m not stalking you,” you laughed, rubbing the back of your neck. Technically it was a bit of a lie, but he didn’t need to know. It’s just something people say when they have the happy coincidence of running into a stranger so often.

“What did you say to me?” he bit. His tone was sharper than you felt like this conversation deserves.

“I mean, I’ve just been seeing you around a lot… it was, like, a joke? Like, ‘ahh watch out, I’m stalking you!’ you know?” With each second he stared you down, you felt your throat dry out, getting more flustered as you felt the need to over explain yourself.

“Maybe you should work on your comedy routine,” he barked, his voice just faintly cracking. He shoulder-checked you as he rushed out of the store in long strides and a brisk pace.

What in the absolute fuck.

You couldn’t stay in the shop for another minute. You dropped your stack of books at the counter with Miles, giving him a rushed apology for leaving them behind as you stormed out of the shop and headed in the opposite direction of where Spencer ran off to.

The air outside was now frosty as the sun disappeared behind the horizon; the wind nipped at your hot cheeks as you charged home. There weren’t enough words to quantify the anger you felt. Your mind ran rampant with how much you now hated this man.

Not only did he bite your head off for no good reason, but he publicly embarrassed you at your favorite place and had gone so far as to bruise your shoulder to make a point. And you know what? If he really wanted you out of his way, you were more than happy to leave him the hell alone for the rest of your life.

You reached into your jacket pocket for your phone and dialed Penelope.

“Hey! How are––” she cheered.

“It’s off.”

“What?”

“It’s off. I’m not dating your fucking friend.”

“What happened? I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding––” she started in a panic. She pleaded that you overlook whatever went wrong and promised that she’d have a talk with Spencer about it. She’d try to encourage him into the direction that you need.

None of that registered in your brain, hot blood filling your ears instead of her words.

“He’s a fucking ass,” you spat. “The more I see of him, the less I like him, and… I’m pretty sure we’d rather kill each other than date at this point. So yeah, I’m done.”

☆

thank you for being on my taglist 💕

if you’d like to join my taglist, the link is at the top of my masterlist

*my taglist is super messy, so if you requested to be tagged in “all” fics, it was lumped into the series as well!

@ellesgreenaway @suburban–gothic @ssa-sarahsunshine @mercy-burning @reidspurple @mediocre-writer @honeyboysteezy @andreasworlsboring101 @calm-and-doctor @drayshadow @reidgifs @you-sunshine @no-alarms-no-surprises-silence @altsvu @reidtheprettyboy @goose-eats-god @sonnydoesrandomshit @rigatonireid @muffin-cup @amoeebaa @reidingmelodies @reidyoulikeabook @anaagraceeberr @spencerreid9 @luvofyourlifeliv @averyhotchner @spencerreidat3am @paw71211 @princesssmooshie @gubeskneescrew @gourdboy @reid-me-a-story @reidabookforonce @willowrose99 @singularityjc @spencerreid9 @miahelen @alltooreid @meganskane @multixfandomwriter @coldlilheart @lunajoyce3 @boldlyvoid @destiny-tsukino @ahhahahhh @spencers-dria @cocomoo1 @spenxerslut @thehuntresswolf @ssa-natalya-reid @the-chaotic-cow @kuolonsyoja @queenofthepouges @gublersss @username2002 @msspencerreid @itwouldburnupintheatmosphere @oeuryale @big-galaxy-chaos @reidsacademia @idonotexiste @rem-ariiana @spencerreidscumwhore @spaceapplehead @newgirlinhell @noellestrash @jswessie187 @reidaissance @violetclifford @fruitoftheweek @mystical-and-modern-marauder @ilovespencerreidmarryme @mlqcool @opheli-yeah @lytrc @youabitchhhh @spencerscumrag @dinonuggets1967 @flowerchildprotectiveservices @annalayton19 @mrsobrien888 @toast-on-t0ast @xoxospencerreid @motionlessgirl12 @bloodyxheaven @my-thoughts-are-weird @rexorangecouny @nani-2305 @measure-in-pain @donald4spiderman @mrs-dr-reid @manuosorioh @sapphic-prentiss @reid-me-a-story @reblogsoffanfics @winifrede @peoniarose @takeyourleap-of-faith @morks-watermelon @silverhetdanes @luwheezey @cc13723things @starrylang @b00b133 @kidd3ath @seastarapiaries @madsgraygubler @manuosorioh @fanfictionfangirl04 @donkeykongsmassiveballs @sergiosbae @mrsobrien888 @jesuisbenny @cocomoo1 @happymangospot @youabitchhhh @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm

(new) tags not working -> check your visibility settings: @pissbit @redevil590 @kaz-2y567 @datsimplol @reid-to-me @rem-ariiana @thegirlinthedresscriedalltheway @jaddi-e @just_arandomwriter @spencerswildestdreams1 @sskylarpaige26 @zbgubler @faithsamantha @nyasiablack1899 @peterisbetterthanpietro @chrisdylan17

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid slow burn #spencer reid series #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid enemies to lovers #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fan fic #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds series #criminal minds fic #doctor spencer reid #dr reid

374 notes · View notes

infernal-fire · 3 years

Text

five types of love.

what to expect: smut, swearing, friends w/ benefits arrangement, mention of Imposter syndrome, fluff, angst, heartbreak, overstimulation, implied creampie, rough sex

a/n: a little warning; you will be choosing your ending - there is a happy one and a sad one. a huge shoutout to @mollygetssherlockcoffee and @angrybirdcr for talking to me about the fic and offering such amazing advice! and @tuiccim was so damn lovely, even offered to beta this (though all mistakes are my own).

summary: you once heard that there were eight types of love. you only knew of five; the five that caused you to fall for one, blue-eyed menace.

Ludus: uncommitted, casual love that can attribute to a flirtatious and fun conquest. Not to be mistaken for Eros.

“I think we’re forgetting the reason why the mission failed in the first place. If the older fellow took a suggestion once in a-”

“-Tony, you know damn well that there were civilians in there.”

Steve and Tony glared at each other from across the briefing room. The tension in the room was exorbitant, but then again, it had been that way since Bucky joined the team.

“This is exactly why we need the new girl. You super-soldiers and billionaires are getting tangled up in each others’ asses and forgetting about what it’s like for the normal people,” Rhodey sighed.

“The last thing we need is another trainee fucking up orders,” Tony snorted and began messing with his tech. The projector flipped through random screens, FRIDAY most likely filtering out the irrelevant news.

“If you have a problem, maybe you should say it to his face,” Steve seethed, now standing up to match Tony’s stance. Usually, this type of jab at Bucky wouldn’t rile him up, but the super-soldier was at his wit’s end following the events of the latest mission.

Beside him, Bucky lightly tugged on his friend’s hand, signalling him to disengage.

“You’re with them?” Tony incredulously questioned Rhodey.

“I’m with the idea of calming this room down.”

“Besides, she’s already been prepped for her first mission,” Natasha piped up. “We’re supposed to have a sit-down in 5 minutes... that is, if you boys can get your shit together.”

The room broke out into a chorus of muttering and everyone settled in their seats again. Captain strode to the front of the room and pulled up his game plan, fiddling with the map FRIDAY was projecting.

You, on the other hand, could not decide how to act in front of the Avengers: Laidback? They wouldn’t take you seriously. Know-it-all? No, that was Stark’s play. Timid Tiffany? If you wanted to seem secretly conceited? Sure. That would work for now.

When Vision floated out to bring you in, you didn’t even flinch at the unforeseen phasing. Impressed at your lack of a reaction, Vision faltered before ever-so-courteously introducing himself.

Could this sentient being laugh of his own volition? You gave him your name and dramatically curtsied to test your theory; he could laugh, and you were pleasantly surprised to find that it was not at all robotic.

You felt the room intently eye you as you ambled to your seat beside one, blue-eyed menace. You half-expected the team to introduce themselves, but who were you kidding - anyone could hear the argument from three corridors away. There was no point in pretending like they wanted you here, but that wouldn’t deter you.

You glanced at your neighbour, met with the pleasant face of the one and only. James Buchanan Barnes was known to be a handsome devil, but the reputation of the Winter Soldier often precedes him; that, unfortunately, does not stop you from eyeing him.

When he caught your stare, you scolded yourself. You’re such a creep.

When he smirked at your ogling, you praised yourself. Oh, hello there.

This is gonna be fun.

Eros: sexual, passionate love that is fueled by lust.

It didn’t happen after the first mission; he had the decency to wait until the fourth mission to knock on your door.

You had been putting away the last of your belongings, finally adjusting to the grandiose living conditions the Avengers Tower provided.

As soon as you unlocked your knob, the door flung open; Bucky's stare was partially inhibited by his hooded eyes. He hadn’t always looked at you like that.

Like what?

With unadulterated craving.

That day, he strode in like he owned the place. You didn’t expect the shove that caused you to land on your bed with an oomph. Bucky wasted no time, climbing onto your form, straddling you. By the time you understood what was happening, a single finger was pressed into your lips.

“Either tell me you don’t want this right fucking now,” he leaned in, close to your face, “or shut the fuck up and let me use you.”

You whimpered in response.

“Not good enough.”

“Use me.”

That’s all the affirmation he needed.

You pushed off the bed to try and meet his lips but he firmly pinned you down by your shoulders. Bucky reached into your panties and circled your clit without hesitation. It only took some swivelling, his intense gaze and the unexpected plunge of his fingers in your channel to make you see stars. Bucky had made you come before kissing you.

When he finally slotted his lips against yours, it was nothing short of all-consuming; you hadn’t even realized the absence of clothes on your body. Had it been ten minutes? Or thirty? It was hard to tell when you were being ravaged by another.

He made you come twice more: once with his fingers’ repeated dipping and pressing into the soft, spongy part of your cunt. The second time was with the talented sucking and flicking of his tongue. Technically, it was the third time.

None of your past partners had been this steadfast in their duty to pleasure you. You were already putty in his hands, ready to be moulded according to his needs. Part of you was ready to tap out, unable to fathom the likelihood of coming over his cock again, but the better half of you needed it.

In your orgasmic haze, you failed to notice that his clothes were being discarded - if you did, it would have given you the opportunity to gawk at the body that you so desperately wanted to see shirtless. When you finally registered his naked person, your hand involuntarily traced the connection between the metal arm and flesh. He threw his head back and groaned before kissing you again.

He pulled off, just enough to get a good look.

“Look at you, all fucked out. I didn’t even put my cock in.”

He pumped his shaft with fervour before pushing the blunt head against your slit. You winced at his attempt to put it in.

“Made you cum three times and you’re still too fucking tight,” he muttered and ran his length up and down your folds. Once he had accumulated enough slick he tried again, this time, successful.

You moaned as he slowly sunk in and buried his cock to its absolute limit. If the walls of your pussy had a voice, it would be absolutely hoarse. You also realized that he only bestowed the three orgasms in hopes of reprieving the pain of the stretch. Without the preparation, he might have torn you in half.

When he began moving, the only thing that was slow or soft about him was his lips against your skin. The thrusts were punishing; if it wasn’t obvious that he was angry before, this made it clear as day.

You screamed and moaned, alternating between keening and arching your back; the pleas did nothing to falter his furious pace. The smacking of your skin was only heightened by the slick that your cunt produced in attempts to accommodate his length. Every time he pulled out, his balls were connected to your sex with a string of come.

If someone told you that you could come five times within forty minutes, you would have face painted and dressed them up like a clown.

Now you laid in bed, being used like a rag doll, begging Bucky to stop you from coming a sixth time that session. It was usually the dirty talk that got you off, but he hadn’t said anything aside from the occasional ‘shut up’ or ‘shhh’. His movements alone had you convulsing around his length.

His thrusts didn’t get sloppy. Rather, they increased in force, as his cock sought space beyond your cervix. You tried to scream, but all that came out was more broken tears and cries. At last, he let out a pornographic moan as his load flooded your insides. Sure, you had let past boyfriends come in you, but you never actually felt the liquid shoot up inside you, until today.

Following the pop sound that his cock made as it pulled out, you whined again. You could feel your heartbeat throb down there.

He flipped you onto your stomach and smacked your ass, laughing at the way you sobbed in pain before disappearing from your room altogether.

He was gone as fast as he showed up.

And he ruined everyone else for you.

In all fairness... you asked for it.

Philia: the deep, virtuous love that is formed in a good friendship. Lovers share a strong bond when Eros and Philia feed into each other.

What started as a release from the frustrations that accrue on the battlefield turned into a deep connection that neither of you had anticipated. Sex had only been used as a tool in the act of psychological detachment until that day.

It was a failed date of some sort: either you had been stood up or the guy was a total moron. You could wrack your brain for the memory, but in any matter, it was all irrelevant now.

You were upset, not just at your lack of a love life, but at the imposter syndrome that had weaselled its way into your liveliness. Feeling like you weren’t enough was catching up to your daily life and even Bucky had noticed the hesitation during your post-mission escapades.

Before you knew it, your hand was knocking on Bucky’s door at the ripe hour of 1 AM.

You heard the muffled thumps of his footsteps and considered booking it out of there, but before you made up your mind, the door opened. As you had predicted, Bucky was wide-awake.

“What?”

You had wanted to sass him for his tone but decided against it since you were the one who interrupted his 1 AM activities. You shook your head from the clouds and mumbled incoherently, starting to walk away. The coldness of his metal arm abruptly gripped your wrist.

“Are you okay?”

You hated that question. You could be doing so good, holding in the burden of a horrible week, but the moment someone asks you that question, the dam would disintegrate into dust, only to be washed away by the inevitable waterworks.

The sob you let out didn’t loosen his hold. He let you cry and watched as you tried to wipe away the unrelenting tears, still refusing to close the gap between your bodies. Finally, you shuffled into his arms where he bear-hugged you, cupping the back of your neck and holding it to the junction of his neck.

"You smell nice,” you sniffled.

He lightly chuckled before dragging you into his room and seating you on the bed. He ordered you to stay there and rummaged around his cupboard before pulling out a bottle with red liquid sloshing around.

“You keep that in your room?” you snickered, wiping your nose with the back of your hand, before blanching at your state. Hell, he had seen you naked, how you look right now is the least of your concerns.

“In case of emergencies,” he winked. “This seems like a real emergency.”

A fresh wave of tears pooled in your waterline as you peered at your hands that were picking at each other.

“I don’t have wine glasses, so we can just chug.”

Bucky stuck out the bottle and you grasped it firmly before gulping one-fourth of it. That’s all the coaxing it took to get you to spill.

You don’t even remember what you talked about, but before either of you realized, 3 AM blinked on the digital clock that hung above the bed frame. You were almost asleep, now resting on Bucky’s lap while he occasionally hummed or offered his two cents. Right before you drifted off, the super-soldier lifted you, placing you under a cover. He climbed in from the other side, one hand cupping your face, the other snaking around your waist.

“Thanks, Buck.”

“It’s gonna be okay. You’re okay,” he whispered.

Your eyes drooped but swiftly opened as Bucky leaned in, resting his forehead against yours. His lips barely touched yours, grazing their presence, but you moved, tenderly catching them. He returned the movement, the delicacy of his actions reflected in the softness of his eyes.

You pulled away and the two of you wordlessly bore into each other’s eyes. At last, you succumbed to the fatigue, as did he; both of you resting in the others’ possession.

Mania: an unhealthy, obsessive love that plagues the mind.

It was the third time Bucky didn’t show up at your door after a mission. Three missions, each of them ending in something that would have indubitably pissed him off - after all, they were HYDRA bases. That’s when you first suspected it.

The second was when you noted his intentional avoidance of your presence. Whether it be the kitchen, the gym or the hallways, the stealthy ex-assassin didn’t have trouble actively dodging you. Initially, you chalked it up to wanting space or simply taking a break.

Then you heard it.

Why was it that your gut told you to go right then? All this time you had been biding, yet it was at this precise moment that your hunch asked you to speak to him. It could’ve been the duration of the month that it took you to prepare yourself, but it had to be now. You raised your hand, prepping to knock on the door, but stopped.

Your hand froze mid-air. The elegant laugh of another girl sounded behind the door. It was faint, the noise slightly suppressed by the wall between you.

It could be anyone.

But it wasn’t. Your intuition, the one that told you to come here right now, was wise enough to know that this wasn’t just anyone. It was her.

You cupped your mouth to stop the sob that threatened to liberate itself from the confines of your constricted airway. You fell forward, onto your knees, as if to pray to the gods to not let it happen. But it already did. You let go of your mouth, gasping for air from holding your breath all this time.

Shoulders sagged and spine bent, you stalked back to your room like a zombie. Face devoid of all emotion, you fell onto the corner of your bed and crumpled into a ball. For twelve hours, you laid there. Sometimes sleeping, other times letting the tears leak out of the corners of your eyes. Memories of his fingers weaving through your own, the pleasures that chilled you to the bone. Most of all, the way you held his head to your chest as he whimpered about the nightmares that invaded his nights. It felt like those things happened to someone else. Nothing more than a distant memory.

Your heart clenched, tugging on the heartstring that you once thought was connected to him.

It was as if he knew you stood outside his door that day. There was an unspoken agreement to never speak of it. Yes, yes, don’t ever speak of it. The dam that you built so carefully will come crashing down. He stopped avoiding you, but you wished he didn’t; it was crueller to be reminded, easier to pretend he didn’t exist.

Be honest with yourself.

You didn’t pretend like he didn’t exist.

In fact, the first thought after waking up? Bucky. Last thought before going to sleep? My Buck. Every time he wasn’t around? James Buchanan Barnes.

Please, don’t act like every waking moment isn’t spent loving him. Because deep down, you know what’s true.

He never did introduce the mystery girl to anyone at the Tower, but you knew his disappearance after missions could be credited to her. Did he take out his anger on her as he did to you? Or were you nothing more than a toy?

Guilt was one of the few emotions you could make out from the rare occasions you caught his stare. Longing was there too, but you couldn’t be sure that you weren’t projecting. Months went by, waiting for thoughts of him to abandon your disturbed mind. The time never came.

As promised, he ruined anyone else for you.

Pragma: the type of love that endures all shortcomings. Committed relationships that stay in love have an element of significant Pragma to them.

a happy ending.

That relationship may have ended but it didn’t mean he would come back to you.

He did come back. But he wasn’t yours. Bucky made that clear when two more relationships ensued the last. Each time, the buffer period between them was filled by you.

His back-up plan. That’s what you had been reduced to.

After the third time he brought a new girl, you’d think you would be used to it, maybe even uncaring. Unfortunately, the opposite would always prevail.

Steve caught your fist and tutted, commenting on the bad form. You stopped, shook your shoulders and began hopping on the balls of your feet again. Jab, jab. Swing. At first, you’d imagine the faces of those girls. Nowadays, it was easier to envision the pads Steve held as his best friend’s face.

“Bucky’s girl broke up with him.”

“Oh,” you made out, focus slightly wavering.

“You know what happened?”

“Are you asking me ‘cause you wanna know or because you already know?”

“I already know,” he sighed, lowering the hand pads.

He exhaled your name, shaking his and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “When are you two gonna stop playing around?”

“I really don’t understand, Steve.”

“You know why she broke up with him?” You blinked, tongue poking the inside of your cheek in anticipation of an answer.

“He moaned your name during sex.”

“God, that’s so corny,” you huffed, now beginning to make your way out of the boxing ring.

“So what, you’re gonna do nothing? Keep letting him use you?” Steve jogged to catch up to you.

“No,” you faced him, “I’m not letting him use me as a fallback anymore. I’m putting an end to it.”

Steve pursed his lips and shot you and exasperated look before shaking his head. “Don’t let something good go to waste.”

It used to be something good.

You wondered if you could hold up the promise you had just declared to Steve; in the past, you failed every time he showed up at your door. Bucky knew exactly how to play into your emotions, how to say the right things every time. And just like that, the next morning you’d end up in his arms. That stops today.

Determined, you practically punched the button to go up on the elevator and impatiently tapped your foot. As the doors slid closed, you took one look at yourself and turned away, fighting the urge to fix your appearance for him. The doors opened again and you check the floor number, ready to step out, but stopped at the sound of your name. His ex. You almost ran off, unwilling to put up with an angry ex, but she called on you again. You sheepishly stood there, as if you were the one who did something wrong, until she stepped in and pressed the button to go to the lobby.

The silence stretched on, much like your patience. Does she even know who you are?

“We were both fooling ourselves.”

You turn to check if she was speaking to you. Her stare was unwavering and she maintained eye contact that almost made you squirm.

“We both love different people.” She smiled, an obvious melancholy tainting her face. You stood there, absolutely clueless as to how you should respond.

“It’s too late for me, but it’s not for the two of you. Just... don’t let him go. He’s one of the good ones.”

You turned again, now looking down at the ground. Even if she expected you to say something back, it was impossible, at this point. Your mind was in shambles, everything she said contradicting the choice you made five minutes ago.

After what seemed like an eternity, the doors opened and she stepped out. She turned one last time and nodded as if you knew what to do now.

Bucky’s door was unlocked. You called out his name, barely above a whisper and sauntered with hesitation lining your every step. Nothing. Empty. He wasn’t there.

It was a sign. You almost ignored the advice his ex gave, ready to walk into his room and end things. Your shoulder slumped as if your bore the weight of the world on them as you slunk back to your room. Now it would take another outburst or another month to prepare yourself to talk to him again.

As the days went by, you barely saw him around. It reminded you of the times he intentionally ignored you, except this time, you weren’t sure it was intentional. When you did see him, it was clear that he wasn’t doing good; his beard was unkept and scraggly, the bags under his eyes heavier than any trauma he carried. You pretended as though you didn’t notice and went about your routine.

1 AM

A knock sounded at your door. You knew who it was, how could you not, but hoped it wasn’t him anyway. The encounter would most likely end with tears or sex and you didn’t favour either outcome.

You waited a minute. Maybe he would leave if he assumed you were asleep. The knock sounded again.

You cracked the door open. Whatever you were expecting, surely, it wasn’t this. Eyes red and puffy, it was clear he had been crying and most definitely not sleeping.

He held up a wine bottle, and chuckled pathetically at himself.

“Maybe this is bad idea,” he sniffled and wiped his nose with the sleeve of his left arm.

It didn’t feel right to say anything. Rather, you opened the door wider and beckoned for him to step in.

“Emergency?” you asked with a little smile. God, you were so close to crying and he hasn’t even said anything.

“Oh yeah. Big emergency.”

He sat on your bed and felt the sheets, trying to remember the feeling of it on his knees. The days he would buck into you while you clutched them like a vice. The soldier pursed his lips and watched as you settled beside him.

“You don’t have to talk... if you don’t want to,” you said. Your voice cracked and you almost smacked yourself for being so weak around him.

“But I do. I should talk. I have so much to say... Can I explain?” He turned to face you, reaching out for your hands, holding them in his own. You didn’t say anything, opting to return his request with a pleading look in your eyes. He knew what the look meant: just don’t break my heart. Again. He took a deep breath in acknowledgement, trying to form the words that would help you understand.

“I can’t believe I hurt you. I swear, I didn’t know I was doing it, at first.” You mustered your best unbelieving look, almost scoffing for good measure. “No, really,” he hastily added.

A few tears streamed down your face and you frantically tried to wipe them. Bucky took one look at you before he began breaking down, tears slipping down his face.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to cry... I just- I don’t understand? I thought things were good?” you questioned. You had given up on trying to wipe your tears, as did he.

“I wasn’t supposed to fall for you. And by the time I realized, we were so far in. Then I found a distraction... and I really thought I was over you,” he paused, wondering if he should continue or not. You showed no sign of speaking up, so he went on.

“I didn’t think you cared. I didn’t think you felt the same way. I was so convinced that you wouldn’t blink twice but then... but, I-... I heard you at the door that day. I wanted to kick her out and hold you, but I-...”

“But you what? You what, Bucky?”

“I thought it was too late for us. I thought I ruined everything.”

“Then why are you here now?”

“Don’t be mad,” he murmured, retracting his hands and fiddling with his fingers.

“I don’t think anyone can ever replace what we had. Maybe... still have? Because you’re it for me. I’m sorry it took me this long to realize that. I was on the brink of losing myself.” He looked up at you, eyes brimming with a new wave of tears. He mumbled your name weakly, croaking out a please at the end.

You curled in on yourself and fell into his arms, hoping that was enough of a answer.

“I can’t promise you that everything will be back to normal by tomorrow morning... but with some time, I can learn to trust you again.”

Above you, Bucky hurriedly nodded. At the state he’s in right now, you suspected that you could ask him to sell his soul and he would agree.

“And if you ever break my heart again-,”

“-I would die before that happens,” he finished for you, kissing the top of your head for good measure.

“I love you,” you whimpered, “so fucking much.”

“I love you too. I really love you too,” he affirmed and encased you with his arms again.

Though there had been some rough patches on the road to happiness, with Bucky by your side, you felt as though you could make it through anything; for that, is the power of pragmatic love.

an unfortunate ending.

The tears that would’ve been shed during the ceremony have dried on your pillowcase about five hours ago. Now, you sat beside the team, waiting for her to walk down the aisle.

Bucky looked nervous, as if he were reconsidering his life decisions. The little devil on your shoulder was holding onto every little thing he did: the wrinkle of his forehead, his repeated tugging on the suit and his flustered glancing around. Oh lord, and when he accidentally locked eyes with you? You may have bitten your lip and looked away in contempt but the shoulder-devil was as persistent as ever.

He secretly still wants you.

Shut up.

He wants to call it off.

Get a life.

At last, the lucky girl stood at the end of the winding path and you couldn’t help but sneak a look at the groom. His tension and nervousness crumbled at the sight of her; it was difficult not to feel happy that he had found the one that made him feel this way.

It may have been him for you, but that notion was long forgotten, a nuisance of memory at most. Your love for him, regardless of the storms it has endured, is no longer respected or wanted by either party.

If he loves her, why does he come to you when things get bad?

You shook your head at that, having no answer for the nature of his secret infidelity. It was nothing more than taking out his frustrations on you - much like the old days.

Your reminiscing was cut short when a voice asked everyone to rise for the bride. You stood and straightened out your outfit, flicking off the little white petal that clung to your maroon dress. A hand grasped your own, and you turned to see Steve smile reassuringly. You squeeze his hand in appreciation and turned your attention to the white-clad figure walking down the aisle.

And that’s all you remember. You wish you could recall the rest of the wedding. You really do. Too preoccupied with what was going to happen after the event, you disassociated from the ordeal altogether. No matter how hard you grilled yourself, nothing would come to mind - dissociative amnesia only occurs as a protective coping mechanism during traumatic events; was that what Bucky’s wedding was to you?

What type of question is that?

For once, you agreed with the little red beast that sat on your shoulder. Long ago, the first time you saw someone else Bucky’s arms, the devil pierced the pitchfork right through the angel’s heart. These days, it was all you could think of.

After the bride and groom exchanged ‘I do’s’, you willed yourself to stay a while longer. Your only companion, Steve, slow danced with you in silence, knowing that whatever he says would be of no consolation. Bucky did have half a mind to ask you for a dance, but he saw you leave. You didn’t think anyone did. He waited for you to turn and look at him one last time, but you never did. It’s okay, he thought. I didn’t deserve her anyway.

No one saw you after that.

On your bed, Steve found a single note that didn’t explain anything more than what he already knew. If anything, it simply affirmed that you were gone for good. Your things packed up, no trace of a person ever having lived there. Even if he pulled some strings, it would take years to find you again.

After all, you had already been lost for quite some time.

hey folks. i know this seems a little desperate-sounding but i would really appreciate reblogs and would absolutely love to hear your thoughts on the story. what was you favourite part? which part made you feel some way? i really love knowing these things. love each and every single one of you.

Masterlist

Shoot me a message or fill out the form in my bio to be added to my tag list!

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fic #sebastian stan character #bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you

283 notes · View notes

well-its-not-human-anymore · 3 years

Note

Amazing, ok so, how would the guys react to a super cuddly friend, but like they're really scared of crossing boundaries so they never really touched or anything, but as soon as they get the green light from the boys they're like. Always somehow touching them, like arm around the waist, legs on their lap during movie night, hugs from behind whenever they can etc

I was so hyped to write this because I'm definitely a touchy feely type of person but I've also just recently been like "boundaries you fucking walnut" so this is right up my alley.

TMNT Headcanons

The boys reacting to a super cuddly reader:

Michaelangelo

Alright let's be honest here

Mikey is the most intimate dude ever

He has no problems with physical contact as long as you're chill with it

Which you are, you'll take a hug wherever you can get one

The two of you have had your own handshake since the second week of you knowing him

His family however, is unaware of this

Obviously they know April is cool with touching them, she doesn't care

But they had no idea how you were about it

That was until you stayed for dinner

You'd basically fought Leo to let you help clean up

They knew you and Mikey were close

When you couldn't reach the shelf that the plate you were holding was supposed to go on they did not expect you to handle it the way you did

"Oi Mikey can I get a lift over here?"

The orange turtle didn't even look at you, backing up just enough and putting his hand out for you

You placed your foot firmly in his hand and climbed fluidly onto his shoulders, settling on the ridge of his shell and sliding the dish into it's proper place

"can you get this one too angelcakes?"

Mikey passed a cup into your hands and you proceeded to set it on the neighboring shelf, still perfectly balanced on your living perch

His brothers didn't know what they were expecting from the two of you but it definitely wasn't that

Leonardo

Watching Leo train was enough to make you tired

You weren't even doing anything, just watching

But once he'd finished his training and sat down to meditate you got up and padded over to him

"hey, do you mind if I sit behind you and use your back as a pillow while you do that? I'm tired as shit but I don't wanna crash on the couch right now, Raph almost crushed my head last time."

This smug fucker had the audacity to laugh at you

"be my guest. Just don't move too much"

Que the excited brain, you dropped to the ground and backed up to him as he settled

Your head made a resolute thunk against his shell and within minutes you were passed out

Leo was thankful that you didn't snore

This became your routine, so much so that he found it hard to meditate when you weren't there

He missed the familiar weight on his back

He'd approached you on the couch one evening, you were mid-argument with Mikey over some sort of movie theory and didn't even notice him standing there

"y/n?"

Your head snapped around to look at him

"yeahhhh? Did I do something?"

"no, I was going to meditate. Are you coming?"

You bounced to your feet, knocking Mikey in the shoulder before wandering towards the other room

"you win for now Mikey, I gotta go be Leo's human paperweight"

"you're not my- you know what close enough."

Raphael

No no no listen listen

This man is touch starved

AND I MEAN TOUCH STARVED

If you so much as roll for affection and get a +3 he dissolves

But he's also pretty sure you'd hate touching him or any of his brothers so asking for a hug is out of the question

If you want to touch him you'll initiate, right?

In-fucking-correct

Then at some point mid session you managed to land a solid ass punch right to his mouth

He crumbled on impact, grasping his own face in shock

Coincidentally you were also grasping his face in an attempt to see his split lip

"holy shit dude are you okay? I didn't chip any teeth did i? Wow okay that's bleeding pretty badly- one sec, don't move!"

Your hands left his cheeks and you scrambled to your feet, sprinting out of the room in search of a first aid kit

Raph looked up when you returned seconds later, the small tin box in hand, and kneeled at his side

"okay you might want to ice that but I'd definitely get a second opinion from donnie"

He was still staring when you handed him a gauze pad for his lip

"I'm really sorry Raph, I didn't mean to rock your shit like that"

The brain™ is recalibrating

Systems coming back online

He used one arm to pull you into a hug

"nah I'm good, it's just a split lip, barely even hurts- AH SHIT!"

you busted out laughing, tumbling out of his hug and covering your own mouth to contain your giggles

"I'll go get that ice for ya then?"

"yeah yeah shut up"

Donatello

Donnie didn't like to showcase that fact that he hated losing

He literally couldn't with the family he had, everything was a damn competition

And this happened to be a literal one

You, raph, Mikey, and he had been playing COD for hours now

You lost feeling in your thumbs about ten minutes ago

You and Donnie had lost every match since you'd split into teams and you were both getting sick of it

Donnie because he was a fucking genius, why couldn't he win this game?

You because you needed to pee like fifteen minutes ago and you weren't allowed to get up until the final match was over

"get your head in the game Donnie"

"oh wow thanks for the advice y/n, let me pull it out of my ass for you"

You wacked his shoulder with a scowl, settling your elbows on your knees and leaning into the controller

Mikey and Raph looked way too smug right now, like they knew that they were going to win

Neither of you would live with that

When it came down to the last 7 seconds you managed to snipe Mikey, making raph, who'd been shot out a minute prior, yell in outrage

Having been declared the victor you both triumphantly threw your controllers down on the couch

He went for a high five

You went for a hug

You both paused

He shrugged at you, earning an excited grin and you let him tackle you with a hug

Your airways were very constricted but at this point you didn't care one bit

"hey don?"

"yeah?"

"you can put your head back in your ass now."

Just as a general rule of thumb, whichever turtle I put last is usually the one I have the hardest time coming up with things for. So if you notice that the last ones always seem to be lacking that's why. Brain be sucking on the remainders of my creative juice.

Hope you liked this tho! I enjoyed doing it! Stay hydrated 😉

-Mars 🌠

#tmnt x reader #tmnt raphael #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #tmnt headcanons

330 notes · View notes

sunmoonandeddie · 3 years

Text

feelings are fatal (17/24)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader, past steve rogers x reader

word count: 3,346

summary: After the events of Endgame, you struggle to come to terms with what you’ve lost, though you’re learning that you still have something to gain.

chapter warnings: swearing, violence, creepy men

masterlist

a/n: HEYYYYY HAPPY TWO YEAR BLOG BIRTHDAY TO ME!!!!!

Bucky’s heart was pounding as he finally shook the last of the Hydra goons that had been chasing him, glancing every which way just to double check.

He didn’t feel good about this.

It hadn’t even been ten minutes since the two of you had gotten separated, and he hated it. Granted, he always hated being away from you, had since you were fifteen.

Back then it was because he didn’t trust the Red Room instructors. Now it was because he was in love with you and being away from you made him feel like a part of his heart was missing.

Speed walking towards the entrance of Coney Island, he dug his phone out of his pocket and dialed Pepper’s number.

“Oh, my god, thank god. What the hell is wrong with you?” Pepper demanded angrily of him. “Do neither of you know how to answer your phones? Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” he said. He could hear his blood pumping in his ears. “We had to separate so I could try to lead the bad guys away, but they just… disappeared. I’m heading for our meeting spot now.”

Morgan and a few other kids were babbling in the background about how their day had gotten cut short, but he knew that the littlest Stark would understand better than anyone else once they explained to her.

Pepper was suspiciously quiet for… a long time. A long, long time.

“Pepper?” Bucky whispered, his voice cracking.

There was an unspoken question between them.

What if he’d fucked up?

Should he have stayed with her?

What if they’d gotten to her?

And one that was looming over his head, heavier than ever.

What if he never got to tell you how he felt?

“I’m here,” she said reassuringly.

“What if…” Bucky’s heart cracked inside of his chest. His throat was closing up with each passing second, his flesh palm sweaty. Keeping his grip on his cell phone was becoming a challenge. “What if I n-never g-get to tell her h-how I feel?”

“Don’t think like that.”

“God, I’m so fucking stupid,” he cursed as he made his way to the aquarium. His eyes flickered around the crowd, almost hoping he’d see the two women from earlier. They would’ve recognized you and might’ve seen you.

But there was no sign of them.

“Those fucking special skills or whatever would really come in fucking handy right now,” he cursed. With the way people were parting like the Red Sea in front of him, he knew he probably had his less-than-friendly expression on.

His Murder Face, as you called it.

Or his Resting Bitch Face, according to Sam.

Bucky ran his vibranium hand over his face as he tried not to panic. For one, he hadn’t even gotten to the meeting spot yet. Most likely, you were there waiting for him and he was worrying over nothing. “Tony and Natasha will haunt me forever if I let something happen to her.”

A sigh resounded over the phone. “You didn’t let something happen to her, Bucky. Hell, we don’t even know if something is wrong with her yet. But they both know that you have… you have literally devoted your entire being to taking care of her, protecting her. You did what you thought was the best option in the moment. And maybe… Maybe there was no getting out of that ambush without something happening to one of you.”

Rounding the corner to the tunnel, his heart stopped inside his chest.

You weren’t there.

“Bucky? Bucky? What’s going on? You there? What’s happening?”

It was like the world around him had gone fuzzy, and all he could hear was a ringing in his ears.

You weren’t there.

You weren’t there, and it was all his fault.

He told you to go to the tunnel.

How fucking stupid was he? The tunnel was possibly the worst place he could’ve told you to go to. It’s closed off, a literal tube with water all around you except two very small exits that were easily blocked.

What had he done?

Slumber had come easy for you for once. You were so exhausted, even your bones weary, from dancing all day. And by all day, that meant for over twelve hours because of your sadistic new instructor.

The last one had been… disposed of.

You’d woken at sunrise as usual and gone straight to ballet, only for the instructor to not let you go after the normal three hour class.

The rest of the girls filed out of the dance studio, some glancing back at you in curiosity.

There was no worry in their eyes. It was every girl for themselves these days.

If you thought real hard, you could remember a time when you all looked out for each other. You would braid each other’s hair, give a warning if any of the instructors or Madame B were near. If someone didn’t wake up when they were supposed to, the girls would shake her awake and help her get ready on time.

But that time was no more.

Those that ran the infamous Red Room didn’t like when their… students banded together. Things were better for them when you all hated each other and sought ways to sabotage the others.

It made you more likely to kill during a sparring session, and they only wanted girls who were willing to go all the way.

“Is there something you needed from me, madam?” You asked, your hands folded behind your back, spine straight, your chin high.

Good posture had been beaten into you within a week of arrival.

You didn’t forget a lesson like that anytime soon.

The instructor was new to you girls, though you had been told she wasn’t new to the Red Room. She’d been one of you, once upon a time.

One of the few who had survived to graduation, and then lived long enough after to be brought back as an instructor.

“I’m told you’re a prodigy,” she drawled as she slowly walked towards you, her platinum blonde hair pulled into a tight ballerina bun much like your own. While all of you girls wore black leotards, hers was a pale lilac, a shimmering rehearsal skirt tied around her waist that swished around her thighs. “That you are Madame B’s new pride and joy… Though, just based on your dancing, there is absolutely nothing to be prideful of. It is a surprise to me that you haven’t been… taken care of.”

The implication was clear.

Just based on that morning’s class, she thought you were bad enough at ballet to be killed.

Was it possible she just wanted you executed now? Was she about to do so?

Even though Madame B would be pissed, there were more girls that they could train. She’d only be upset for so long before she’d have a new prodigy, a new pride and joy.

Before the Soldat would have a new trainee.

Before your Soldat would have a new trainee. All the other Soldats could have all the trainees they wanted, but your Soldat, your Seven… The thought of him training another girl made bile rise up in your throat.

“Do you have pointers for things I could work on, madame?” You asked, shoulders tensing as she circled you. Like a vulture ready to scavenge a dying animal.

“I simply thought I could lend you some extra practice time,” she said, a sickly sweet smile spreading over her lips as she looked you up and down. “And don’t worry about Madame B and your other instructors. I already let them know that I wanted extra time with you today.”

The way she was speaking was setting off alarms in your mind.

“Perfect,” you said clearly, not letting your fear show. The instructors could smell fear and would use it against you until your heart stopped beating.

“Do you know the role of Aurora in the Sleeping Beauty ballet?” She asked, eyes cold. When you nodded, she chuckled. “Good. You’ll be dancing it on pointe, start to finish. Now.”

You were shocked when she then turned and started the music, but you did as she said.

Now, Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s Sleeping Beauty is his longest ballet ever, at almost four hours long.

And you danced all of it.

“Below average,” the instructor said, glaring daggers at you. “Again.”

You needed water desperately, your lungs fighting for air as you pretended to be unbothered by having done that by taking slow, even breaths.

But you had to do it again.

And again.

Every time you finished, she gave some comment about how your dancing was shit, how you’d never be good enough.

At this point, you wished she would simply kill you and get it over with. You were exhausted and your muscles felt like they were going to give out at any moment.

“MALEN’KAYA!”

You fell out of your pirouette in your shock, gasping as your ankle twisted and you fell to the ground. “Fuck!”

Your Soldat stormed into the dance studio as you looked up, eyes wide.

When had he gotten back? He’d been on a mission for the past few days, and fuck, you’d missed him something fierce.

“Soldat,” the instructor breathed out as she stopped moving, staring up at him with blue eyes. “Remember me?”

“Yes,” he said, glaring at her like she was a pile of dog shit he’d stepped in.

She moved towards him, her hand coming to rest on his chest. “I was hoping to see—” She was cut off as he raised his hands to hold her face. The harsh woman looked so… soft for him. “I missed you. Did you miss me?”

“No,” he snarled, his voice dropping almost an octave. “You should’ve thought twice before touching my malen’kaya.”

The light that had been in her eyes when she first saw him quickly disappeared as she realized she was totally, and utterly, fucked.

Your heart caught in your throat as he so easily twisted her head, a loud snap ringing through the air. He let her limp, lifeless body fall to the ground with a thump before turning and rushing to you. The darkness that had been in his face was long gone as he pulled you close, his hands running over you to try to find sources of injuries.

It took you a moment to realize he was speaking, your ears ringing as you stared at the dead woman on the ground.

“—you okay? What the hell happened? Who allowed this?” He asked, talking a mile a minute as he checked over you. Once he finally got to your pointe shoes, he took in a shaky breath. “I have to check,” he said as he reached for the pink ribbons tied around your ankles.

In the two years since you’d known him, you’d never seen his hands shake like they were.

Your eyes locked in on his face, his brows furrowed and his cheeks flushed, as he tentatively untied one of your pointe shoes. He slowly slipped it off, his breath catching in his throat as he looked at your foot. It was only when the second one came off that you finally looked at the damage.

Well… You were sure your feet could have looked much worse after dancing for over twelve hours, but… It still wasn’t pretty.

“I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt that bad,” you lied, trying to soothe him.

He was usually much more composed than this, his face harder.

Even when he was feeling a bit nicer, a bit softer, it was nothing like this.

The Soldat shook his head, looking absolutely pissed. “You don’t have to lie. Never lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” you insisted. “But that might be because right now, they’re numb, so I can’t feel anything at all from about my ankles down. But that does mean I didn’t lie.”

You were attempting to joke with him, lighten up the mood a bit. However, he definitely didn’t seem to be taking the bait.

When you glanced over at the windows, for some reason you were surprised to see how late it was. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” he drawled as he scooped you up, leaving your pointe shoes behind as he carried you to the locker room. The man was somehow almost completely silent as he set you on a bench and grabbed a first aid kit out of what seemed to be thin air, before gently cleaning away the blood.

Water was dripping somewhere in the locker room, the droplets hitting the tiled floor with soft clinks.

“You were gone,” you whispered, eyes trained on his face. He was still so handsome, even with the frown lines that were starting to appear. Not that you could blame him, everything he’d been through would more than warrant a few wrinkles. “You were gone so long…”

The Soldat’s eyes were soft, despite being the color of the ice that coated the windows. “I know… I can’t stand being away from you, but if I didn’t go… They’d find some way to punish me.” His rough flesh hand cupped your cheek. “And I think they’re starting to catch on that the best way to punish me would be through you, malen’kaya.”

For a second, you thought he was gonna kiss you. From the way his eyes flicked down to your lips and back up again, you could’ve sworn on your life.

But then he took in a deep breath.

And his hand left your cheek.

You tried to push down the disappointment that welled up in your throat, biting your lip.

“Come on, malen’kaya,” he said as he finished wrapping up your poor feet. “Let’s get you to bed.”

The other girls were already sleeping when he carried you into your room, each one of them with a single wrist handcuffed to the bed frame.

“Hate knowing that you’re locked here all night,” Soldat said, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he approached the only empty bed in the room. “It’s like… putting a lark in a cage. I don’t like it.”

“I know,” you said. “But… It’s just how it is.” You looked up at him with bright eyes as he laid you down and tucked the blanket in around you, making sure you were nice and cozy before he took your left wrist and cuffed it to the metal frame.

“Get some sleep,” he murmured, brushing his metal fingers along your cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Oh, God…

Everything hurt…

Why did everything hurt?

It was like your head had been shoved under water, but your eyes were too heavy to open.

“—gotta take the video and send it.”

“How do we know he’ll come?”

“Oh, he’ll come. He’ll always come for her.”

Who was that? The voices sounded vaguely familiar, but not quite.

“His precious malen’kaya.”

You slipped back into unconsciousness even as you fought the darkness coming over you, slumping down again.

The clock ticked obnoxiously loud as you sat in the diner booth, your knee pulled up to your chest. A cold cup of half-drank coffee was sitting on the table in front of you.

You’d been waiting over an hour for him to show.

The lunch rush had come and gone, and the waitresses—in their rockabilly uniforms and roller skates—were shooting you pitying looks.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” you huffed as you got to your feet and slammed a crisp twenty dollar bill on the vinyl table top. “He asks me on a fucking date and then doesn’t fucking show. How fucking typical.”

It had only been two days since the mission where he’d asked you out on a date. Your ankle was wrapped, and you were under strict orders to rest.

So, of course, you’d dragged yourself out to this diner that he insisted on taking you to.

Well, meeting you at since you really, really didn’t want to deal with the awkwardness of riding in the same car.

If you were being honest, it hurt. A lot. You’d gotten your hopes up over the past two days, tossing and turning at night as you dreamed of what would happen on your date. Would it go anywhere? Would he end up being the love of your life?

You hadn’t had a crush on anyone since…

Well… Since your Soldat.

You missed him so fucking much.

And he wouldn’t have stood you up.

“Fuck Steve Rogers.”

Your face was flushed as you headed home, storming through the streets of Manhattan to the Avengers Tower. You needed time to stew, and the subway would be too fast.

“I should’ve just stayed home and taken that fucking bubble bath,” you huffed as you got in the elevator and rode up to the residential floors. Even if it had been meant to be a casual first date, you’d done your hair and stressed over your makeup, wearing your nicest pair of leggings and sneakers that didn’t have mud on the bottoms.

And even if the plan had been for it to be casual, you’d been looking forward to flowers and a kiss on the cheek, stealing a fry from his plate and maybe playing footsie under the table.

Just a little.

Like other girls got to do.

The elevator music was getting into your head, and there was no doubt it’d be haunting your dreams. But when the doors opened onto the common area floor, you were just about ready to burst into tears.

Because Steven Grant Rogers was sitting at the kitchen island and eating a sandwich as he laughed at some joke Rhodey made.

You couldn’t believe him. Was this his plan all along?

Steeling yourself, you straightened your spine and walked with purpose, planning on walking right by without even acknowledging him.

But of course, that wouldn’t be your luck.

As soon as Steve caught sight of you, he froze, his blue eyes going wide. Breathing out your name, he quickly scrambled to his feet. “Wait! Wait! Please! I’m so fucking sorry, I completely forgot!”

“It’s fucking fine, Rogers. It’s clearly a sign that this is was a bad idea in the first place,” you said, your voice cold enough to freeze him again.

“What?! No! Please, I’m just…” He groaned as he followed you onto the elevator that would take you up to the other residential floors. “I just had three meetings before noon and completely forgot! That doesn’t mean I don’t want this date with you!”

Taking a breath, you turned on him, glaring at him like he was a piece of dog shit on your shoe. “You know what the cherry on top of this is?” You asked with a laugh. “My first fucking date of my entire fucking life, and I get stood up. Fuck you, Rogers. Fuck. You.”

You’d successfully shocked him, and left him looking like a guppy, his mouth hanging open as he watched you leave him standing there.

When you came to again, you actually found the strength to open your eyes.

The room around you was like every stereotypical hostage room you’d ever seen in real life, and in movies.

Almost like the one Olivia Pope had been in on Scandal.

Though, you had a feeling that this one was real and wasn’t just a fancy set in a warehouse.

“Where am I?” You asked yourself, trying to take stock of everything. “Okay. Head hurts. Expected that. Don’t feel any sharp pains… so he probably shot me with a tranquilizer and not a bullet… Which is probably better for my chances of escape.” It was so fucking cold, your entire body was trembling. “No phone, so no way for the others to track me. Same clothing I was in… so at least there’s that.”

Your voice died as you heard movement beyond the black steel door in front of you, watching as it slowly opened. Your heart sank as you realized who was standing in front of you.

“It’s been too long, malen’kaya.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n

336 notes · View notes

rebelwrites · 3 years

Text

Love Is A Battlefield || Chapter Fifteen

Clay Spenser x OC

Join The Group Chat Here - If You Want Tagging Manually Let Me Know 🖤

Love Is A Battlefield Masterlist

This Months Writing

“So it’s been a while since I last saw you Rylee, tell me what’s been going on,” Dr Kruger said, leaning forward on his elbows.

“So much had happened,” Rylee half laughed, as she threw the ball in the air, “I guess I will start off with a childhood friend came back into my life, at first I didn’t know it was him but then it clicked and all the memories came flooding back, then I got spun up, followed by my school reunion and kicking off, up until said childhood friend who I kicked off at babysitting my daughter,”

“Well is definitely sounds like an eventful month,” he nodded, “tell me how you feel about this childhood friend coming back into your life,”

“Honestly I’m still not sure,” Rylee sighed, not making eye contact. “He was my best friend growing up but then treated me like shit and basically joined in with the bullying,” she took a deep breath as she continued, “I refused to tell him who I was at first because I had changed a lot since school and he didn’t recognise me, but he had changed as well.”

“What made you kick off at the reunion?”

“I guess all the feelings that resurfaced when he came into my life, the first day I met him he was a cocky asshole who I wanted to punch,” Rylee nodded, “but on the other hand I am attracted to him, I can’t deny that he isn’t my type because he is,” this was the first time she was admitting this out loud.

“And you say he is currently babysitting your daughter, what changed?”

“Honestly I don’t know, I guess the fact that I can’t avoid him as he is part of Bravo team now. And he actually apologised to me last night at the team dinner and told his side of the story. Turns out it was his Dad that was the issue, and I guess I’m not getting any younger and I don’t want to be holding grudges,”

“From what it sounds like he wants to make amends,” she smiled, “are you going to build the bridges again?”

“I want to say yes, he was my best friend and I’m not going to lie I miss him,” Rylee nodded, “but he had a lot to prove to me,”

“It’s all about baby steps, now you said you recently got spun up again, how did that make you feel?”

“Amazing,” Rylee grinned, “to be back in greens felt amazing, to be back alongside my brothers was the best at first I didn’t know how Athena would take it but she was happy as long as her uncles looked after me,”

“Well I have to say since our last visit things seem to be on the up, yes a lot of emotions came to the surface but that’s better than you bottling them up,” she smiled. “I think we will stick to the monthly sessions and hopefully you won’t have to see me again,”

The sound of giggling filled the house as Rylee got home, her heart melted at the sound. The moment Athena heard the front door close she was running into the hallway with Clay chasing after her.

Rylee crouched down to Athena’s level, pulling her into a hug and kissing the top of her head. “Have you been a good girl for Clay?” She asked.

“Of course mummy,”

Rylee looked up to Clay for clarification as she knew what a terror she could be.

“She was an angel,” Clay smiled back.

“Okay well you get to choose what we do for the rest of the day babygirl,” Rylee whispered, kissing the top of Athena’s head, knowing that she will probably choose to go to the park.

“Can we go to the park Mummy?” Athena grinned, looking between both Rylee and Clay, “and can Clay come with us as well?”

“I don’t see why not,” Rylee smiled, looking up at Clay, “if he wants to come that is,”

Clay was taken back slightly by the fact that Rylee didn’t shoot the idea down. He leant against the wall watching the two of them together and his heart melted.

Within ten minutes everyone was ready to go, Rylee had her keys and was locking up the house whilst Athena linked her tiny hand with Clay’s large one. The moment Rylee spun around and saw the two of them walking down the street like they were family. Rylee didn’t want to admit it but her heart was pounding against her chest, she didn’t want to admit it but she didn’t want Clay to leave. She couldn’t help herself as she quickly took a picture of the two of them before slipping her phone in her pocket.

The walk to the park was quick, and Rylee and Clay were chatting away like nothing had ever happened and to anyone that looked at them would have thought they were a family. Rylee was holding one of Athy’s hands and Clay was holding the other.

She kept having to hold herself back from sneaking looks at him, yes she was attracted to him but he had just come back into her life she couldn’t let herself fall for him, no matter how hot he was or how good he was with Athena.

“You good there Rylee? You went all quiet on me,” Clay asked, glancing over at Rylee.

“Yeah sorry just got lost in thought,” Rylee smiled, brushing the hair out of her face. “Thank you for today, thanks for looking after Athy it means a lot,”

“It’s nothing Ry, I just wanted to help,” Clay smiled, “and I know I have a lot of making up and I thought this would be a good place to start, also I can’t believe you have a daughter, I know you always said you want to put your career first,”

“It came as a surprise to me as well, but I wouldn’t change this little Princess for the world.” Athy smiled, “I just wish she had a dad, Leon bolted when he found out and has never wanted anything to do with her, thank god I had and have the boys by my side.” She didn’t know why she was telling Clay this but here she was opening up to him.

Little did either of them know that Sonny had driven by recently and couldn’t help but smile as he saw the three of them looking like a little family, he couldn’t help but take a few photos of them. He would definitely be using this to tease Rylee about.

@chibsytelford @supervalcsi @talicat713 @disasterfandoms @bravo-four-seal-team @jasonbabymama @jayhalsteadfan-2417 @lotsoflovefromlea @seik-o @velvetcardiganbucky @phoenixhalliwell @pancakeisreading @itsonautopilot @pinkrockstar19 @galaxysanduniversesinmymind @softi92 @abby-splace @theysayitscrazy @thelovelyleo23 @innerpaperexpertcloud @jomariekirby @i-love-scott-mccall @heathermann200 @pascal-reyes @fourthwallhateclub

#clay spenser #clay spenser x oc #clay spenser imagine #seal team #seal team x oc #seal team imagine

60 notes · View notes

mintbaby1012 · 3 years

Text

Felix ♥ Sleepover

You and your best friend felix see each other for the first time in awhile

dom!felix x fem!reader

WARNINGS: SMUT, fluff, daddy kink, praise, dirty-talk, slight degradation

Word count: 2318

——————————————————————————-

It had been a long day, a Friday. The best day of the week that seems like the longest day of the week. My best friend Felix from when I lived in Sydney as a kid was at my house staying the night as my parents and I just moved to Korea. My mother trusted Felix since she has known him since we were little tots.

"I'm going out with your father for a business dinner we'll be back around 11 PM or 12 AM as always depending on his boss," yelled my mom as she was walking out the door. I was just really happy to be with my bestfriend again for the first time in 6 years he left Sydney to be an idol which I understand. I just missed getting to see my bestfriend and crush in person everyday.

Currently we were sitting on my bed playing Clash Royale together and streaming their comeback shows to get in more views. Felix's group Stray Kids just had a comeback with the title song Side Effects and damn, it's a fucking bop.

Right as me and Felix won a battle their newest comeback show came on and Felix begged, "Let's skip this one I rather not watch this promotion show pleaseeeeee y/n pleaseeeeee let's skip this one"

Felix was begging and blushing he looked embarrassed honestly which intrigued me. "No I want to watch this once as seeing your reaction I'm interested," I stated while watching the TV intensely

"HOLY FUCKING HELL, SHIT SINCE WHEN FELIXXXX!!! WHAT THE FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKK YOU HAVE ABSSS!?!?! I WANT TO SEE THEM LIVE NOWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!" I exclaimed as I saw him rap and hold his shirt up a good five seconds. He had just faceplanted into my pillow and groaned in embarrassment while replied to me blushing, "No I will not show you my abs, it's embarrassing... Ahhhh I didn't want to watch this one I'm so embarrassed now!" I just pouted and exclaimed, "Come on Felix~~~~ all the stays there got to see them why can't I see them live too!"

Felix just sat on my bed looking out the window blushing and ignoring me. So what do I do, I get into a play fight with him. We toss and turn on my bed fighting to become the champion. Felix was tickling me as his tactic, and I was kicking for my tactic.

In the end Felix ended up underneath me while I sat on him in victory. I took the chance while he was catching his breath, and I was on top of him to quickly lift his shirt and see his abs.

Felix's eyes widened with disbelief and I started blushing while staring at his abs. I honestly didn't think I would got turned on by seeing his abs. I've seen him shirtless many times as a kid.

"Y/n, y/n don't. Stop please y/n!" I didn't hear his pleads for me to stop whatever I was doing, or more I was to focused on his abs I forgot he was there; my hand was slowly going torwards his abs and I couldn't stop myself I was drawn to them.

I finally touched them, but I was a blushing mess. My fingers instinctively started tracing each abdominal muscles and gliding over his skin, till I was knocked out of my hypnotized state by my wrist being grabbed and pulled away.

I looked Felix dead in the eyes, he was also looking into my eyes. I started scanning his body from his eyes, to his neck, to his abs, back up to his arms, then his hand that was attached to my wrist. I gasped and pulled my wrist away, pushing myself up trying to get off of Felix but failing and landing somewhere bad.

As I landed I felt him, it, his hard on, or his dick. I froze and my entire body heated up as I heard Felix grunt deeply. I looked at his face and was hypnotized by his flushed cheeks, dark, and now cloudy eyes.

The next thing I know is he grabbed my wrist again and pulled me down on top of him. Our faces were barely an two cenimeters apart and my hands ended up grabbing his shoulders as our bodies were pressed together.

"May I?" Felix said in his deep voice while looking at my lips and I just nodded my head and within a second our lips were connected. At first our lips were just touching then, Felix started actually kissing me and I started returning the favor. The kiss grew more intense and passionate, biting and sucking on each others lips. Then our tongues, they moved together insync, connected as one desperately needing more and more.

I started getting frustrated with how needy I was and my lower half started moving on its on, grinding against Felix's clothed manhood. "Mmm fuck~~~" Felix moaned out as the heat between us grew.

Within two moments Felix was ontop of me kissing down my neck, gropping my clothed breasts, and grinding down on me desperate for friction. "Ngh~ Felix I want m-more than just this make out session," I moaned out breathily as I tugged his shirt over his head. Felix then pushed my shirt up revealing my stomach but not all the way to the point my breasts would be revealed and he said while kissing and leaving marks on my stomach, "Y/n, I really have been waiting forever for this, but I don't want to go too fast but if it's want you want as well, then screw taking time I can make you a mess right here and now!!"

I was a mess as he said I had never been kissed and touched this way before, I have never had someone leave hickies all over my stomach, and make me feel this way. I looked down at him with hooded lustful eyes and he was looking right back at me admiring every expression and reaction I made in response to his heavenly touch.

Before I realized it, he had pulled off my joggers and panties; his tongue was instantly on my core. I moaned out loudly and my body tensed while my back arched.

Felix's left hand was gripping my waist while his right was holding my right leg over his shoulder. "F-F-Felix!!! It feels so good!" I exclaimed in pleasure. His tongue was working magic licking between my folds, stimulating my clit, and exploring as far as it could reach into my pussy. My hands were tangled in his hair while he was making me feel, oh so good!

Before I could do anything else a knot formed in my stomach it was unbearable, "I'm gonna cum, D-Daddy I'm gonna cum!" I yelled in pleasure and Felix looked up to me shocked and said, "Then do it cum in my mouth just like you're supposed to." Him saying that triggered something and I came, releasing all my fluids into Felix's mouth as he made sure to lick it all up and swallow it.

"You sure do taste good princess." He said as he came back up to kiss me. As he finally lifted up my shirt over my head and took off my bra. I unbuttoned his pants and he pulled them off after he was done with declothing me.

Felix took one of my nipples into his mouth and the his other hand was playing with and sending jolts of pleasure through my body making me whimper out my thoughts, "Felix you haven't came yet, let me make you come."

Right as I said that he flipped us back over and grabbed my hair and pushed his dick into my mouth. At first I was a gagging mess but after him thrusting into my mouth a few times I took over. He threw his head back moaning in pleasure and squeezing a fistfull of my hair as I took in his cock, slowly taking in all of it deepthroating him, sucking he tip kissing and licking up and down his hard dick. "Fuck baby you're so good at this, this can't be the first time you've done this your making me so weak" The desperate man moaned out and I hummed in response while taking him in. Which caused him to release and shoot his seeds down my throat with no warning, but I did my best to swallow ever ounce of his sweet cum.

Felix pulled me up to face level and said, "I really want to fuck you, i want to make you mine forever, I want you to be the one I crave everyday, I want, no I need you to be my girlfriend, and I can't fuck you unless you say yes. I wouldn't want to take something another man is supposed to take that's not mine to have." I just kissed him in response and said, "Of course I'll be yours I've had a crush on you since we were ten!"

With that being said Felix flipped me over and lined up his dick with my entrance and told me, "This is gonna hurt tap my shoulder three times when I can make a next move after I'm inside you, I don't want you to hurt too much but it's unavoidable." Finally he pushed in and instantly I was tearing up it was like I was being ripped it hurt and burned so bad and tears were falling down my face. "Shhhh, it's okay I'm trying to not hurt you, I love you so much baby, it'll feel good soon I promise, you're so beautiful, I can't believe someone so beautiful as you is now my princess." Felix stated while wiping away and kissing my tears, and kissing my neck leaving more hickies to distract the pain.

After a few minutes I tapped on his shoulder three times as he said to do when I was ready. He instantly started to move slowly; looking into my eyes for signs of pain. To no surprise he was right the pain was fading and I started to crave for more so I moaned out of breath, "I want more daddy, give me more, I want to feel all of your cock pounding me!" He quickly sped up his pace and penetrated deeper making both of us a moaning mess. The sound of skin slapping, moans, grunts, whimpers and words of love filled the room making a symphony.

"You are so fucking tight princess. I fucking love you!" Felix grunted as he pushed as deep as he could inside me yearning for more pleasure. I whimpered in response unable to talk for Felix pounding into my pussy.

While he was fucking the life out of me he pushed his tongue back into my mouth making us completely one, he then sucked on my tongue before moving to my earlobe biting and licking making me moan out even more.

I was sad once he pulled away and pulled out his dick but he then demanded, "Get on your hands and knees now my little slut!" So I did as he said.

Right as I did so, he pushed my back down and perked my ass up, slightly spreading my legs apart and pulling on my hair he thrusted into my vagina full force using his one free hand to pull me into him as he thrusted into me. His actions made me scream out in pleasure and weak; my thighs felt like they were gonna give out and Felix noticed so he supported my body but kept thrust into me with all his might.

That one knot in my stomach was forming again and it was way more intense than the last time so I whimpered out, "I-I'm close I need to cum again" Felix moaned out, "Hold on just a few more seconds I'm close too princess I want to o-orgasm with you...." Three seconds later he yelled "Now!" We both came together, he pulled out and came all over my back and I released my juices that were now dripping onto the bed.

Felix cleaned himself and I, putting back on our clothes, then cleaned the bed and mess he and I made. "I want to cuddle... Don't go to the guest room stay with me daddy!"

He just giggled and got under the bed covers with me while saying, "I never said I was going to the guest room but right now I want to know.... since when did you have a daddy kink hmmmmm?!?!?!?" I instantly flushed red and he snicker while I stuttered out, "I-I-I called you daddy? I didn't realize fuck I need to control my mouth, your disgusted aren't you, I'm sorry I won't do it again."

I pouted and he just laughed and pulled me close to him holding me in his embrace as he said, "No, princess I loved it you can call me Daddy whenever you please, and we should really have sleepovers more often when your mom and dad are out for business a few hours, now that you are mine, I really enjoyed this sleepover!"

#skz scenarios #stray kids #felix smut #felix stray kids #smut #felix kinks

131 notes · View notes

tendertokyo · 3 years

Text

Hi hello

because the n in nct stands for nicotine, i will now read you what kind of smoker aura each of the boys in neo city has, as the chain smoker that i am. no one asked for this and i don't care, i just wanna see how many people agree with me lol.

(this is all for shits and giggles, don't take this too seriously, i am but a simple moron in this fandom of clownery)

taeil: tried to hit on a female woman once at some small get-together or smth, she offered him a cig, he took one drag to get on her good side and violently coughed his lungs out rip

taeyong: i feel like he smokes weed on his own every once in a while, purely to have a cathartic cry session

johnny: king of tobacco and weed, tell me i'm wrong. he is the reason all this crap started, he's that one chaotic evil friend who just offers you to try shit at parties. has made his own bong and loves it the way you'd love your family pet. cackles evilly when stoned and plants stupid ideas into everyone's heads, teaches everyone how to blow smoke rings

yuta: he buys a pack every now and then, prefers to smoke in company rather than on his own. loves a good old cig after sex though (as the triple scorpio that he is)

kun: doesn't smoke, but if he did let's face it he'd chainsmoke like a motherfucker from all that yangyanghenderychenle induced stress

doyoung: this man is so done, he doesn't give a fuck anymore. smokes those ultra thin mom cigarettes and holds them real bitchy. try to fight him, he dares you

ten: doesn't smoke. doesn't like the smell sticking to his hair

jaehyun: jeffrey y'all... we ain't even gonna talk about him smh... weed/vape combo that's all i have to say... dumbass fried half his braincells off lmao screwdriver lookin ass

winwin: doesn't smoke, lowkey judges people who do

jungwoo: confirmed he smokes, knows he looks hot while doing it. looks like he rolls tobacco but can't be sure. if he does, props to him because tobacco kicks industrial cigarette ass. king shit

lucas: also a confirmed smoker, 100% does it to look cool. doesn't hold the smoke in his lungs long enough and immediately blows it out but who cares, he looks sexy as shit. holds it all manly cause he likes it when bitches look at his hands

mark: i feel like morky mork didn't smoke at first but then he debuted 4 fucking times and was just like eh fuck it. my manz loves weed and has this weird aura of highly functioning stoner. has weird ass flavoured rolling papers. will bum a cig off of someone if he's stressed

xiaojun: doesn't smoke, never really wanted to

hendery: listen if you told me this boy tried crack i'd believe you. do i believe he smokes weed, of course i do. makes excellent brownies and that's all he can do well in the kitchen

renjun: this one has a level of rage within himself that can only point to marlboro red touch, i don't care. takes really aesthetic pics of himself while smoking to show how "artsy depressed" he is

jeno: doesn't smoke. is the friend who cleans out the ashtray when it gets too full god bless him

haechan: he's the guy who tries to prove to everyone that he smokes like a boss even though he isn't a smoker, better at holding in smoke than lucas but has no idea how to hold the damn cig in his hand, wants to impress johnny his devoted father

jaemin: rarely smokes weed but when he does it has to be in a big circle with all his friends, calls it "bonding time" and uses the excuse of being stoned to kiss and cuddle everyone despite their refusal, makes up really weird topics to talk about, at one point will just zone out and stare at the ceiling for 10 mins

yangyang: haechan 2.0, everyone thinks he's a stoner but he isn't, peer pressured into it every time but doesn't mind 'cause he thinks it fits his street cred

shotaro & sungchan: can't tell, i don't know much about them

chenle: johnny's number one student and you can't tell me otherwise. has like 7 "guys" around town he's on first name basis with. fucking weed connoisseur, can roll a perfect blunt in less than a minute. fuck i wanna smoke with him sooo bad, he'd be so much fun. wants to do stupid shit when high, not allowed access to the kitchen or the balcony for that reason. prefers tobacco over industrial cigs 'cause he's the main character

jisung: wants to try smoking weed but too anxious to actually do it. loves watching everyone else get stoned though, thinks it's hilarious

thank you for coming to my tedtalk

318 notes · View notes

nyrandrea · 3 years

Text

Setting The Stage

My hyperfixation is set back on fnaf again in anticipation for Security Breach, so I’ve decided to write my own interpretation on how the game might begin!

Summary: Gregory had always dreamed of going to Freddy Faxbear’s Mega Pizza Plex and meeting his heroes. But he somehow ends up getting more than he bargained for, and dreams start to turn into nightmares.

Originally planned as a oneshot but had to split it into two parts.Link to next chapter is down below! Also available to read on AO3 here!

Enjoy!

Walking into Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizza Plex for the first time was something that every kid in the world should experience, at least according to Gregory’s logic.

And it was that logic – and a lot of puppy dog looks – that just about managed to work on his mom. Because here he was, finally standing in front of the colorful neon sign with his favorite animal mascots welcoming him in.

It had taken a lot of begging and guilt-tripping but he wasn’t ashamed one bit, though his mother might have disagreed, especially when it came to the snivelling part. But hey, it wasn’t his fault she had worked late on his birthday, so she owed him. Big time.

He vaguely recalled her grumbling about having to dip into her savings for this trip.

So that meant that he only had today, and he had to make every second count.

“So...” a voice spoke up from behind him. “Am I finally forgiven?”

Gregory looked up to see his mom giving him ‘the look’, and to that he nodded profusely.

“Good. After today you can finally leave me in peace,” she said, giving his hair a playful ruffle as they walked through the large sliding doors and into the mall.

He decided to push it just a little bit further.

“Can I get a Freddy plushie?”

The little boy swore he could hear a vein pop.

“I already bought tickets for the meet and greet. Do you know how much those cost me?”

He shrugged.

“A lot, and it’s coming out of your college fund.”

“What if I don’t wanna go to college?”

“Maybe you won’t get to after today,” she replied, rubbing at her temples. “Fine. I’ll give you ten dollars and you can buy yourself something at the store when we’re done, alright?”

That was enough to cover a pencil, maybe an eraser as well if he haggled. But he didn’t argue.

Both Gregory and his mom were suddenly blinded when they entered into the main part of the building as bright neon lights bounced off of the high glass ceiling and right into their retinas. Only once they were able to adjust their eyes could they really absorb the true grandeur of the place.

Everywhere you looked there were people: from tired-eyed parents trying to find the next thing to distract their kids to enthusiastic parents who wanted to get involved in everything their kids were doing while filming it on their phone for their blogs. Then there were the snot-nosed teens who were bunking off school and several professional shopping guides with forced smiles wider than Moondrop and Sunrise’s combined. Everyone seemed to move in unison as the hall was filled with the sound of shoes squeaking against the polished checkered floors.

Topping it all off was a massive gleaming golden statue of Glamrock Freddy proudly posed right in the center, singing silently into the microphone as soft music and wacky adverts played in the background.

Suddenly Gregory felt very small.

“It sure is...big, isn’t it?” His mother said, not sounding so confident herself.

He merely nodded in agreement.

Her son-o-meter seemed to be finely tuned as ever as she gently grasped Gregory’s shoulder and gave him a light but reassuring shake.

“C’mon now,” she tenderly prodded. “We’ve got all day to enjoy the place so let’s make the most of it, huh? It’s not every day we get to go to Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizza Plex.”

This was true. Coming here had once been only but a dream. Now he was here, staring up at a brilliantly shining statue of Glamrock Freddy. And pretty soon he was going to be meeting the bear himself.

His hand absently went to towards his back-pocket before he made a fist as determination washed over him. Looking up at his mom, he nodded.

“And if I’m remembering right, I think I know the first thing on your to-do list.”

The boy had already grabbed her hand as he made a beeline for their first activity.

“To Fazer Blast!”

xxx

Trying to imitate the pose of the Roxanne cut-out that was behind the reception desk, Gregory pointed his laser blaster at his mom as she attempted to fit on his vest.

“Could you stop fidgeting?”

“But I’m practicing-”

“Stop. Fidgeting.”

He pouted before she struck him with that look again, which he pretended not to notice as he gazed up towards the lady at the reception desk. She looked about in her twenties and was using one hand to push back her long sleek black locks away from her face every five seconds while her other hand typed lazily on a screen.

“So...do I just join a team or...?”

It took her a moment to even register that he was talking to her before she flicked her hair back again just to glare down at him.

“Sure, like, do what you want. It’s your game, you make the rules.”

She seemed to pause for a moment.

“You do, like, know the rules, right?”

Gregory wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“Uh...sure?”

“Fantastic,” she drawled as she focused her attention back to her tablet. “Your session ends in fifteen minutes.”

His mother rolled her eyes and muttered something about, “kids these days”, but soon smiled and took Gregory’s shoulder as she walked him in.

“Just remember to have fun, alright? Screw the rules.”

“Really?” Gregory asked, his toothy grin twisting into something sinister as he got into the Roxanne pose again.

“Just...don’t run and remember to stay within the walls,” she added on quickly. “Can’t have my little space man getting lost now, can I?”

Gregory made a sound of disgust as he was pulled in for a kiss before she finally let him loose into the brightly colored arena. He couldn’t help but take a moment to stare up in awe as spotlights of purple, green and red shone upon the various props and fixtures that decorated the place.

In the center was a giant space rocket that was surrounded by planets with neon rings glowing around them. The cut-outs from reception were scattered about too, though now they were humongous. Gregory almost couldn’t help but salute the towering Freddy as he walked past.

He also noticed a room near the back walls. It was raised up to overlook the whole arena and was surrounded by green-lit pillars. It fit in with the theme of the room but also...jarringly stood out. Maybe it was a place for parents to watch their kids play, or perhaps the employees?

“Hey Grogery!”

That voice. That name struck fear into his chest as he swirled around to face a group of boys that had aimed their blasters right at him.

“Never thought we’d see you here,” the biggest one said with a smirk. “You sneak in through the gutters or something?”

“Hey... Bob,” Gregory casually greeted. Though it was hard to act so suave when he was trembling.

“It’s Rob.”

“Rob! Yeah...cool to see you too.”

Learning the names of his bullies from class had never been at the top of Gregory’s to-do list, but then again it hadn’t been at the top of theirs either, clearly. But God, why did they have to be here of all places? Of all days, even?

“Nah, his mom probably got him in here with all that hooker money she earns!” The skinny one snorted, making them all burst out into laughter.

“She works at the hospital,” Gregory weakly argued.

“Not what my dad said!” Rob hollered, still rubbing tears from his eyes.

“So, what, is your dad cheating on your mom?” He sniped back with a sneer of his own.

His grin soon disappeared though when they all suddenly stopped laughing and a beat of silence followed, save for the distant laser blasts sounding off around them.

“The hell did you just say to me?” Rob asked, his voice dangerously quiet. If his brows knitted together any tighter then those pimples on the bridge of his nose might pop at any given moment. Gregory grimaced at the very thought.

“N-nothing! Um...I mean- it's technically not cheating if your parents are divorced, right?”

Rob positioned the blaster in his hand not so much as to aim it, but rather throw it.

“Like I said, my mom wouldn’t even do that!”

The pimples popped.

With that, Gregory legged it before the gun could smack him in the face. He dashed between the walls as the angry voices behind him grew distant, he almost felt bad as he climbed through the holes and bumped past people, but hey it was like his mom said, screw the rules, right?

However, it looked like the rules were starting to screw him when he smacked into a dead end. The black wall was too high for him to jump over and the only way out would be to re-trace his steps, which meant...

“C’mon Grogery!” Rob’s voice taunted through the luminous hall. “Let’s see how many knocks to the head you can take before you bleed.”

The boy swallowed a hard lump down his throat as he backed himself up against the wall and looked up at the Roxanne cut-out that towered above him, aiming her blaster with such confidence and attitude. With a deep breath and a firm nod, he did the same with the hope that getting them disqualified might save him.

If not, at least his mom was a first-aider.

“Hey...” A soft, almost girlie voice laced with a mechanical tone called out. “In here.”

Gregory’s head snapped to the right as a hand – or was it a paw? – beckoned him into a dark corner.

“Hurry up...!” The voice urged, and before Gregory could question anything, he saw four shadows creep around as the sound of footsteps thundered towards him, forcing him to make a snap decision and dive into the darkness, getting caught by a pair of skinny, furred arms.

“Shit, where did he go?” Rob shouted as the group gathered where Gregory had been standing just seconds before.

“Looks like he dropped his blaster,” one of them said as he picked it up. “Maybe he climbed the wall?”

There was a sudden yelp as Rob smacked him upside the head.

“Don’t be so fucking stupid, he’s tiny. No way in hell he’d be able to scale that.”

Gregory stiffened as Rob suddenly turned in his direction, but he felt the stranger put a hand on his head, and strangely enough, it calmed him down.

“...C’mon, he’s gotta be around here somewhere,” Rob finally said, pulling the group away. “He can’t hide forever.”

After a few moments of waiting, Gregory let out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding.

“Bullies are just the worst, huh?”

Almost jumping out of his skin at the sudden chipper voice cutting through the tense atmosphere like a knife, he glanced up with wide eyes as the figure gave him a little pat on the head.

This was obviously a girl but with the shadows enveloping her it was hard to tell exactly...what she was.

He could make out a pair of tall ears so...a rabbit? Gregory couldn’t remember any animatronics other than Freddy, Chica, Monty and Roxanne, as well as Moondrop and Sunrise. Was this a new character?

But what kind of bunny would have such piercing red eyes?

“My name’s Vanny,” she greeted. “What’s yours?”

Feeling slightly relieved that she had finally let him go, he cautiously stepped out and looked around to make sure he was in the clear before turning to face her.

“...Gregory,” the boy timidly answered, still feeling a bit unnerved.

“What a swell name! It’s nice to meet’cha,” she said with a small bow, which unveiled a few more features like a bright blue bow tied around her neck, and an unnaturally wide toothy grin plastered on her patched face.

What’s more, she didn’t exactly move like a robot, despite sounding like one.

“Are you new?” Gregory asked, causing Vanny to tilt her head.

“Huh?”

“I’ve never seen you in the show before and...” he paused, knowing his words had already gotten him in trouble today.

“And what?” she prodded.

“Well...you don’t really look like an animatronic.”

“That’s because I’m not!”

Gregory flinched at her overly cheerful tone and stepped back as she kneeled down to his level.

“Can I let ya in on a little secret?” Vanny asked, cupping her hand to her mouth in a poorly disguised whisper.

“Sure...?”

“I wanna be in the show. Like, I really really wanna be in the show. That’s why I made this,” the rabbit gestured to herself in an overly dramatic way; caressing her ears and cupping her face. “But I gotta prove myself first.”

“Prove yourself?”

“Yup!”

Gregory raised an eyebrow when she didn’t elaborate further, but decided to put it to rest as he really wanted to get out before Rob and his goons came back.

“I know a shortcut outta here,” Vanny offered with a tilt of the head, as if reading his mind. “Just take a couple of rights and a left and you’ll be as right as rain! Want me to show you?”

“T-that’s okay, I should be good,” Gregory replied with a smile, though it slowly turned into a frown when she didn’t answer back, choosing instead to just...stare at him, her head still tilted, almost as if she were deep in thought.

“But...thanks anyway...?” he weakly offered.

This seemed to snap her out of her trance as she nodded vigorously.

“No problem! And don’t worry, if those bullies come back, I’ll give ‘em a dose of Moondrop’s sleepy candy. That oughta slow ‘em down!”

He had heard of that stuff, but couldn’t for the life of him understand why kids would want candy that would put them to sleep. Nevertheless, he nodded and thanked her again before turning, and hurrying away, a soft giggle echoing behind him.

xxx

“Where on earth have you been? It’s been thirty minutes!”

Gregory was still a little shaken up by the time he had reached the exit, so much so that he had forgotten that he had been on a time limit.

“Sorry, mom...” Gregory muttered sheepishly as she looked him over.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Glancing back towards the arena, he tried to see if he could spot Rob’s gang still wandering about in there.

“Did you see a group of guys come out by any chance? Older than me. Kinda ugly...”

“Now you’re answering my question with a question,” his mother said with a sigh. “But no. Why? Did something happen?”

“No!” he blurted out, making her give him that look again. “We were just...having so much fun but then I uh...I lost them. Just wondering if they left without me or something.”

Her expression softened a little. He hated when she did that.

“No, sweetie...but I’m sure they won’t be far, should we go look for them?”

Gregory grabbed her hand and started pulling her away. “It’s fine! The show’ll be starting soon, right? We can’t miss it!”

“Okay, okay...!” she chuckled as he dragged her. “But first we need to hand your blaster in.”

He stopped then, inwardly cursing at himself before smiling sheepishly up at his mom as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“You lost it, didn’t you.”

Her tone suggested that it wasn’t a question.

“Yep.”

He yelped when she was suddenly the one dragging him away.

“Well, we best make ourselves scarce then, besides we can’t miss your big show, right?”

Gregory grinned. “Screw the rules?”

She smiled back. “Screw the rules.”

xxx

They had made it to the main stage before the show began, but there were already big crowds congregating near the front to get the best view, and Gregory was having none of it.

His mom kept apologizing to the angry faces and pointed looks as he towed her through the mass of people to get to the front, ignoring her when she grumbled about having to teach him some social skills.

Gregory drowned everything else in the auditorium out as his wide brown eyes focused on the stage, even trying to balance up on the tips of his toes to get any kind of glimpse of brown, green, pink or purple. He had waited so long for this moment, and nothing more mattered than the next hour.

Gregory wasn’t ashamed to admit that he squealed a little when the lights died down, it was just as well that every other kid in the auditorium screamed too, resulting in the kind of high-pitched noise that would make a banshee cringe.

“Hello ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls!” A mechanical voice greeted over the speakers. “Welcome to Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizza Plex! Are you all having a fantabulous time?”

The crowds erupted once more.

“Rockin’!” Gregory gasped as a rough female voice took over. "Y’all ready to get your glam on?!”

“Oh Roxanne...” a more feminine tone scolded. “Now you’ve given us away. Again.”

Gregory’s smile grew wider, he knew this whole skit, next up would be-

"I think we’ve kept ‘em waiting long enough, gals,” a graveled voice boomed out from the speakers. "Whaddya say, Freddy? Should we give the kids what they want?”

The little boy almost couldn’t contain himself at this point.

“I say let’s rock out!”

The curtains suddenly swung open to reveal the animatronics in all their shiny, glittering glory.

They were all 80’s themed, of course, to fit in with the aesthetic of the mall. Glamrock Chica had the typical pink leotard with green leopard print leg warmers; very popular with the girls. Roxanne Wolf was more unconventional with a striking red outfit, piercings and the mascot for the mall’s race course; she appealed to quite a wide range of people. Montgomery Gator was more for the chads as he had a rough and tough attitude with a love of golf, but Gregory did admire his red mohawk and star-shaped shades.

Then there was Glamrock Freddy. The mascot of the Pizza Plex. He didn’t really have a gimmick as such but was incredibly popular just for how great he was with the children. The other animatronics were good with kids but Freddy was the one who seemed to pay the most attention to them, whether it be sitting down and listening to a kid’s story, accepting gifts from them to even giving them gifts of his own free will – mostly a plushie of himself.

Management were irked by this odd behavior at first but when they saw how much cash he was raking in from meet and greets alone, they decided to leave it. Why fix it if it ain’t broke, right?

As they burst into their first song, with Freddy singing into his mic stand and the other three playing keytars, Gregory didn’t even notice when his mother shook his shoulder and told him that she would have to take a phone call but would be back as soon as she could. There were some instructions on where to meet if she didn’t make it back by the time the show was finished but the words fell on deaf ears as he bounced and sang along to the lyrics he had spent so painstakingly long to learn.

By the fourth or fifth song, the crowds had started to dissipate as parents took their children away to browse some more shops or to go to the food court for lunch, but Gregory stayed until the very end, cheering and whooping when the animatronics did their final encore and bowed as the curtains were drawn to a close.

Fearing his chest might explode from excitement, the boy took a few moments to breathe as he tried to calm down from the buzz of electricity that was jolting through his body. The past hour had gone and went so fast that he could hardly process any of it, all he knew was that it had been the happiest moment of his life.

With a huge grin, he watched as the robots were escorted off stage by staff and taken to their individual show rooms for their meet and greet sessions. Lines were already starting to grow long.

It was only then that Gregory realized that his mother was gone. He looked around with a frown, she had said something about a phone call but...that had been half an hour ago now.

‘She must be waiting at the show room for me,’ Gregory concluded, beaming at the thought of finally meeting his hero in the flesh. Or...plastic.

Shaking his head, he made a beeline past Chica’s room, where mostly little kids were sitting on the floor watching the animatronic as she played them a song while others had started a food fight with the leftover pizza and soda cans that had been lying around the room, making the parents and staff grimace as they tried to break it up.

Monty’s room was a little more organized and catered more towards older children as the gator showed them how to get a hole in one with a little golf stand while others played on the arcade machine. This reminded Gregory that the golf course was next on his list.

Roxanne’s room was very high energy as the wolf raced around with the other kids with driving wheels in their hands while making engine noises. Though when one tripped up, she immediately halted and gently picked the child up, reassuring him that “Even the most rockin’ superstars get hurt sometimes!” and carried him into the back area to where the medical staff resided with a worried mother in tow.

Stopping to catch his breath, Gregory finally made it to Freddy’s room, gaping slightly when he saw the queue nearly reaching the end of the walkway. He couldn’t even see inside due to the mass of people gathered at the curtains, forcing him to back up a bit and climb up on a bench just to be able to get a look in.

The room was painted red and blue to fit in with Freddy’s color scheme and decorated with bright lightning bolts and portraits of the bear himself. It was also the least cluttered as there were only a few bowling bowls, party hats and – of course – plenty of plushies to give away. But what caught Gregory’s eyes were the assortment of colorful drawings that had been halfhazardly pinned to the wall next to the make-up mirror.

It was true then; he really did collect kids' drawings!

Reaching into his own back-pocket, Gregory pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and opened it up, smiling a little when he looked upon his own masterpiece. All the animatronics were singing on a stage on top of the whole world, with Freddy towering over them wearing a crown and rainbow cape because why not?

It had taken him hours and an absurd number of crayons that he had ‘taken’ from his classroom, so a selfish part of him hoped that Freddy would pin it above the rest.

A flurry of movement in the crowd suddenly caught Gregory’s attention as the stewards moved them aside to let the animatronic move in. He felt himself get giddy when the bear greeted everyone and gave them a sign of the horns with his clawed hand, to which all the kids mimicked, including Gregory from all the way in the back.

As the queue started to move along, Gregory couldn’t help but start to feel impatient. Where was his mom? He thought she knew how important this was to him.

Forgiveness was suddenly starting to come in very short supply.

With a cross of the arms and a small pout, he watched as Glamrock Freddy took photographs, played with kids and even recognized a regular and accepted a drawing from her, praising her for becoming more talented every day.

Gregory’s chest tightened up a little at that.

Frowning down at his own scribbles, he didn’t even notice the tall figure hiding behind the golden statue of Roxanne that was trying to get his attention.

“Hey...! Hey Gregory!” A familiar voice hissed.

Startled, he turned to see that tall rabbit lady from earlier waving and beckoning him over. Blinking, he took a moment to look around to see if anybody else had seen her, half-wondering if she was some kind of hallucination at this point. When she beckoned again, he tentatively walked over.

Once again, she was hidden in the shadows, but the overhead lights made it a little easier to see more details of the suit, like the stitches that barely held the mismatched creams and beiges together along with a few patches of crosshatched red. It was like the whole thing had just been thrown together.

“Uh...hey...”

It took him a moment.

“Vanny?”

She gasped and gleefully put her hands up to her grinning mouth.

“You remembered!”

He forced a grin, trying to ignore the bristling hairs on the back of his neck.

“Sure.”

She paused and knelt down.

“What’s wrong? You look a bit down.”

This caught him by surprise.

“Huh? No, I’m fine. Just...waiting.”

Glancing back, he could see the crowds starting to dwindle as time went on, but still no sign of his mother.

“Ooh! What’s that?”

He looked down to where she was pointing and held up the piece of paper that he had been clutching a little too hard.

“It’s...um...just a drawing I made...for...Freddy,” he meekly replied, his cheeks heating up.

“Oh wow! Can I see?”

The very question he was afraid of. But she was already holding out her hand, so he couldn’t just say no.

She seemed to study it very closely when Gregory handed it over. He started to wonder if she was having to squint through the costume’s red eyes just to be able to see it.

“This is so good, Gregory!” She gushed, holding it up as if to show it off to everybody else in the mall. “You’re super talented! Are you gonna be an artist when you grow up?”

He looked down in embarrassment but couldn’t help but smile at the compliment. Despite how weird this lady was, she actually seemed pretty nice.

“Um...I dunno. I like drawing so...maybe.”

“You should definitely show it to Freddy, I bet he’d love it!”

Gregory perked up at that, but frowned again as he looked back over to the show room.

“I want to but I can’t yet.”

“Why not?” Vanny asked. “Ya nervous?”

That was true but he wasn’t about to admit it.

“My mom has the ticket for the meet and greet but...she had to take some kinda phone call and hasn’t come back yet.”

“Hasn’t...come back,” she repeated.

As Gregory watched kids and parents come and go, he hadn’t noticed that Vanny was staring right at him until the silence between them grew uncomfortably long. But as he turned back to look at her, she stood up and offered her hand.

“I know a way you can give it to him.”

A little perturbed by her sudden shift in tone; he looked at her hand but didn’t take it.

“Uh...how?”

“The VIP room, silly!” She said, her chirpy voice returning once more. “You know that one up at Fazer Tag? I saw you looking at it earlier.”

The one that was high up, he remembered. But... had she been watching him that whole time?

“That’s where Freddy and the others go for the secret meet and greets, where they give you their undivided attention.”

Gregory raised an eyebrow.

“I... didn’t even know that was a thing.”

“That’s cuz it’s secret!”

Okay, well that made sense.

“Usually only the rich kids get to go there but I think you’re much more deserving, Gregory,” she said, holding out her hand once again. “You only get today, right?”

The boy looked over once more. Freddy was waving goodbye to the last of the children as the stewards drew the curtains. He had missed his chance.

He looked back up at Vanny.

“What about my mom?”

The rabbit tilted her head. “I’ll notify the staff so they can let her know, then she’ll come pick you up when you’re ready, okay?”

There was a moment of hesitation but he knew she was right. He only had today and nothing was going to stop him from getting what he wanted.

Screw the rules.

With a nod, Gregory took her hand and let her lead him away to the Fazer Tag arena, not noticing that his drawing had slipped from her grip and she had let it fall into a crumpled ball as they walked away.

xxx

So let me know what y’all think! Would you like to see a part 2? :D

Edit: Part 2 is now available here!

#fnaf security breach #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf gregory #fnaf vanny #glamrock freddy #glamrock chica #roxanne wolf #montgomery gator #fanfiction #my writing #fnaf sb

120 notes · View notes

santacarlahorrorshow · 4 years

Text

Boys Like You (Steve Harrington/Reader)

Summary: You’re sure Steve Harrington will never notice you. Billy Hargrove sets out to prove you wrong.

Word Count: 2.2k

Author’s Note: Inspired by the song Boys Like You by Kids at Midnight. This is my first Steve Harrington fic, so I’m a bit nervous about this. If you like this, then letting me know would make my day.

Masterlist / Read on AO3 / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four

"Harrington again? Really, Y/N?"

"Shut up," you muttered, clutching your journal closer to your chest.

Billy shot you an unimpressed look before glancing pointedly at the journal. Or maybe he was looking at your chest. With Billy, it was always a little hard to tell.

"He's never going to stop sniffing after Wheeler," Billy pointed out as he dropped down into the seat beside you. "So, you should probably stop pining away for him in your little diary."

"Shut up," you repeated, shooting him a glare before you turned to drop your journal into your backpack.

"I'm just saying," Billy started as he leaned closer to you. "I wouldn't mind helping you get over your broken heart."

You quirked an eyebrow at him, unaffected by his attempt at a come-on. "Just get your textbook out. We've got work to do," you reminded him as you flipped open your math notebook.

You weren't really thrilled when Mrs. Green asked you to tutor Billy Hargrove. It wasn't even because you knew he was a shameless flirt and would attempt to get in your pants at every turn. It was because he was truly apathetic about the subject and you knew you would have your work cut out for you.

After the first few sessions, you were more than a little surprised to realize that you were bonding with Billy. He always came off as a smart-ass who couldn't give less of a damn about school or anyone in it. It didn't take you many after-school tutoring lessons with him to realize that it was mostly just a façade. He acted tough and gave everyone shit, but there was something else going on with him. You just weren't quite sure what it was yet.

When he caught you watching Steve and Nancy do their little heartbroken dance around each other, you were more than a bit worried that he would use your pathetic crush against you.

Instead, he scoffed and shook his head before slinging his arm around your shoulders to steer you away from the former couple. "You can do better than Princess Steve, Y/N."

"What?" You were shocked by his words. He almost sounded like he cared.

"Harrington has his nose stuck so far up Wheeler's ass," Billy continued with a roll of his eyes. "You deserve someone who's going to give you every ounce of their attention," he purred, a smirk forming on his face.

"And there it is," you muttered before shaking off his arm from around your shoulders. "You're shameless," you told him before you walked away from him, ignoring the sound of his laugh as it followed you down the hallway.

Now, Billy was considering you with an expression on his face that nearly had you concerned.

"Okay," he drawled before he nodded his head.

"Okay?" You couldn't help but wonder what he meant.

"Okay," he confirmed before he opened his textbook and began to idly flip through the pages.

"Okay?" You repeated, worry leaking through in your tone.

His pleased smirk did nothing to reassure you about his intentions.

You really should have known that he would find a way to fuck you over, though. It didn't happen until your third period math class the next day. Billy had taken to sitting in the seat next to yours. He claimed it was because he wanted to copy your work, but you couldn't help but start to suspect that Billy might actually think of you as a friend.

You were waiting for him to drop down into the seat next to yours, but instead you noticed he took Steve's usual seat near the front.

"Billy," you hissed in an attempt to get his attention.

Billy glanced at you over his shoulder before sending you a wink. He then leaned across the aisle to start talking to Steve's usual neighbor, feigning interest in her backpack of all things.

You were going to attempt to drag Billy to his rightful seat before you noticed Steve walk into the room. You felt your face flush as you dropped your gaze down to your notebook. You toyed with the cover, nearly ripping off the corner in your desperate bid for a distraction.

"Move it, Billy," you heard Steve demand as he pulled to a stop near his desk.

"Don't be rude, Harrington," Billy told Steve as he gestured towards the girl across the aisle from him. You noticed she looked nearly dazed at having Billy Hargrove's attention solely on her. "We're talking. Just take my seat today."

You shook your head and wished that you were brave enough to fling your notebook at his head. You really didn't want to draw any attention to yourself, though.

You heard Steve huff out a defeated sigh before he continued down the aisle in your direction. You noticed Billy track his movements, a satisfied grin on his face, before he nodded at you.

You bit your lip, burying the urge to yell at him as Steve slid into the seat next to yours.

"That guy is a real asshole," Steve grumbled as he slumped further down in his seat. "How do you stand him?"

You froze for a moment as you racked your brain for a witty reply. Wasn't that why Steve liked Nancy? She was clever and funny and intelligent and beautiful. Even though she was with Jonathan Byers, he still seemed to be so smitten over her. What if you didn't quite measure up?

"Uh," you managed to get out before glancing quickly to him. "By only listening to about ten percent of what he actually says?"

Steve studied you for a moment before he snorted in approval. "He's lucky you give him that much," he observed before he pulled a pair of sunglasses out of the front pocket of his coat and slipped them onto his face.

You weren't sure if you were meant to say anything else, so you turned your attention towards the front of the class. You were aware of Steve twirling a pencil between his fingers as he waited for class to start. You wanted nothing more than to reach into your backpack and grab your journal. You had started a sketch of Steve the day before that you wanted to finish. There was an expression on his face now you longed to capture, but you wouldn't risk it with him sitting right next to you.

It was bad enough that Billy had caught a glimpse of the sketch, but if Steve happened to see it?

You didn't think you would manage to live through that kind of humiliation.

You were distracted for a moment by the sound of Billy's laughter. You couldn't help but wonder if he had another motive besides playing wingman for you with Steve as he leaned in closer to the girl next to him.

You rolled your eyes before you shot a helpless glance at Steve.

You were surprised to see that he was already considering you.

"Sorry," he told you when he realized you caught him staring. "It's just..." he trailed off before shooting a look at Billy. "Aren't you two together?"

"No," you hastily denied with a quick shake of your head. "I'm tutoring him," you simply offered as an explanation. That wasn't really the right description for your relationship with Billy now, but you were hesitant to throw the 'friend' title around. Billy Hargrove didn't really seem the type to have friends and you didn't want to assume you were anything more to him than a way to get a better grade.

"Huh," Steve breathed in acknowledgement.

When he didn't offer anything else, you tried to think of a way to further the conversation. You longed to talk to Steve. You didn't really care about anything trivial like his previous status as high school royalty or his looks or perfect hair.

No, your crush reached all the way back to elementary school when Tommy Hagan accidentally bumped into you at recess in second grade and sent you sprawling on the asphalt of the basketball court. You had tears in your eyes as you looked down at the scrapes on your knees, blood beginning to well in the cuts.

Steve had been there to pick you up and escort you to the nurse's office. He stayed with you until the nurse assured him you would be fine.

It only took one act of chivalry to spark a crush that would persist for ten long years.

Over the years, you shied away from Steve. He had everyone wrapped around his finger and you couldn't help but think that you were nowhere near cool enough to warrant his attention. You spent so many afternoons in your kitchen lamenting your crush on Steve to your mom. She always tried to console you with a promise that you were far too special to hide from a boy you would forget about once you graduated high school.

You knew better, though. You didn't think there would ever be anything or anyone capable of overthrowing Steve's reign over your thoughts.

It didn’t help that things had changed. Steve had changed. He shook off his ‘King Steve’ status during junior year after he started dating Nancy Wheeler and started an unlikely friendship with Jonathan Byers.

You knew you still didn’t stand a chance, but once word of Nancy dumping Steve started circulating around school, a foolish little flame of hope started to spark within you.

You never would have thought that Billy Hargrove would be the one to try to keep it lit.

When class started, you thought you lost the opportunity Billy had gifted to you. You were sure that Steve would zone out during class or attempt to listen to Mrs. Green’s lesson.

You startled when the paper ball landed on your desk just a few minutes into Mrs. Green's lecture.

You glanced to Steve in question, but he had his head tipped back as he seemingly stared at the ceiling.

You slowly uncrumpled the piece of paper before reading the note scribbled on the page.

You getting any of this?

You couldn't help the tiny smile that stole across your face at seeing Steve's message.

You carefully wrote your own reply before slipping the paper back onto his desk once Mrs. Green's attention was back on the chalkboard.

You managed to keep a conversation going with Steve for the whole class. You felt a little thrill whenever he chuckled or grinned at whatever you had written in response to his words.

A part of you couldn't help but think that this was finally it. Steve had noticed you and you were finally having a conversation. Better yet, Steve seemed invested in what you had to say.

By the end of class, you were starting to crave his responses. You hated that you had managed to go from hopelessly crushing on Steve to hopefully anticipating more of his attention.

You took your time packing up your things in a vain attempt to stall. Your next class was sadly Steve-free and you wished for one sign that you weren't being misguided to think that Steve wanted to keep talking to you.

"So, hey," Steve started as he turned towards you. "I think..." he trailed off, his focus turning towards Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers as they passed by the doorway of the classroom.

"You think?" You prompted when he didn't seem like he planned on elaborating.

"I'll see you later," Steve mumbled before he hurried from the room. You felt yourself practically deflate at the sound of him calling Nancy's name.

"Come on," Billy coaxed as he grabbed your backpack. "I saw you passing your little notes to Harrington. Fess up, Y/N. You got a date yet or what?"

"No," you answered as you reached out to try to take your backpack from Billy.

Billy carefully held your backpack just out of reach as he turned towards the door. “Well, something must’ve happened,” he pointed out as you trailed dejectedly after him.

“Nothing happened,” you told him before you finally managed to pull your backpack from his grasp.

"Ah," Billy mused when he led you out into the hallway and caught sight of Steve talking to Nancy. Billy clapped a hand to your shoulder and began to lead you away from the pair. "Tough break, kid," he muttered, completely ignoring the fact that you were the same age. "We'll just try harder next time."

"Please don't," you pleaded as you tried to forget how mortified you felt in that moment. You didn't think you could take more heartbreak or a possible rejection from Steve. You would simply live out the rest of your senior year with your head down and ignoring your feelings for Steve Harrington. They hadn't gotten you anywhere in a decade and you doubted they would be much use to you now.

"Too late," Billy responded with a shake of his head. "I can't take you moping about anymore, so if it's Harrington you want, then it's Harrington you'll get."

You considered Billy for a moment, wondering why he was so adamant about fixing you up with Steve. As far as you were aware, they hated each other. But one look at Billy's earnest expression had you caving.

"Fine," you finally conceded with an exasperated groan. "Do your worst."

"Oh, I plan to," Billy assured with you a smug grin that did nothing to quell your nerves.

Author’s Note: Part 2???

#stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #reader insert #reader imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington/reader #stranger things x reader #reader #stranger things fanfiction

357 notes · View notes

queerbrujas · 3 years

Text

then it vanished away from my hands (part one)

pairing: nate sewell x eva navarro word count: 2.3k rating: T warnings: pure angst. not too hardcore yet (will ramp up in later parts), but this doesn’t have a happy ending.

part two | part three | read on ao3

Something unexpected happens during Eva’s turning.

See the end for more notes.

—

part one: take me home where I belong

The process and the preparations are much less complicated than Eva expected them to be.

Tedious, repetitive, but simple.

She speaks to Rebecca. More as a courtesy than anything else; she seeks her informed opinion as a colleague and as a member of her team, as an experienced mentor, but not, never, as a daughter.

Rebecca isn’t happy, not at all, but she has long resigned herself to the fact there is nothing she can do, that Eva wouldn’t listen to her even if there was.

Not in this.

(“Maybe there is some of me in you, after all,” Rebecca had told her, what seems like a lifetime ago. A different conversation, long before she knew the depth of what she was getting into, and yet it echoes, now, in her mind.)

Eva fills out a request form.

After the Agency greenlights it, and only then, she quits the police department.

This does require a few explanations, but Eva's involvement with the Agency isn’t a secret, even if the nature of it is.

Neither is it a secret that she had never wanted to join the force at all, and so nobody is exactly shocked—it’s not hard to convince everyone of what is, in the end, more than half the truth: they have offered her a better job that is much more suited to her skillset and inclinations.

A job that, most importantly, takes her away from Wayhaven.

(She had, after all, always wanted to leave. This is something everyone knows.)

Captain Sung is sorry to see her go, tells her she was a fine detective and that Rook would have been proud of her. She barely tenses at this.

Tina insists on throwing her a goodbye party.

Verda congratulates her on the promotion, with a smile and good wishes and love from Eric and Cara and Lacey.

She will miss them, a little. Not enough.

Not anywhere near enough.

—

Then there’s paperwork, more paperwork than she has ever had to deal with in her life.

There is counseling, endless sessions that she sits through with gritted teeth.

She finds them unnecessary. Redundant. She knows her own mind and doesn’t need, hasn’t ever needed any of this.

They are, of course, meant to ensure this is not something she will regret.

Why has she chosen this? What are her motivations?

She is made to list all of them. Outline them. Number them and rank them and develop them as though it is a test.

In a way, it is.

They do not say it is, but it hangs, unspoken, in the air. The idea that they might strongly discourage her from pursuing this if they consider she is not doing it for the right reasons, not fit for the transformation, for the shift it will bring to her life.

She is aware of this.

The minefield of questions she navigates with practiced ease. She does not say how the human world has lost every appeal it might have once held, but she does say her life is not, cannot be merely human anymore.

Not after everything she’s been through.

The counselor nods at this. They are a fae of some kind, but they were not born as one.

This, Eva knows, works in her favor.

It is not wise to tie these decisions to interpersonal relationships, the counselor says, their voice level and impersonal, almost flat. Of course, she must be aware of this already, is she not?

She is currently romantically involved with a vampire, yes?

It is imperative that she acknowledge the possibility of this relationship ending. Would she still want to go through with this, if that were the case?

Would she still want to live through eternity, then?

Immortality is not reversible. This is something she must remember.

Immortality is not reversible.

Eva suppresses a scoff, taps her foot on the ground. Taps her fingers on the arm of the chair. But she nods her assent anyway.

The process could be deferred for a year or two if she wished it; she is within the optimal time window still. It would give her additional time to reflect.

It is something they recommend. Though of course, they are quick to insist, the choice is ultimately hers.

She thanks them, and she declines it.

This, then, leads to more paperwork. Paperwork with questions and specifics about every last, minute detail.

Does she want to have the process handled by an Agency representative, or does she have a request for someone specific?

The Agency does not recommend that the process be carried out by a romantic partner. Is she aware of this?

She is, naturally.

(Nate wouldn't do it, anyway.)

(And after the conversation with Nate, she had wanted to ask Morgan. But Morgan—well, Morgan can't.)

Is she aware of the risks? The survival rate? The potential trauma? The changes that her body will/could suffer? The recovery period?

The unpredictability of her blood?

The risks?

The survival rate?

The potential trauma?

Rinse and repeat, ad nauseam.

She signs what feels like a hundred release forms, over and over.

She wants to do this the right way, the proper way.

(When has she ever done things any differently?)

She signs the forms and the paperwork without complaints, without hesitation and without delay.

—

The day comes.

(Weeks later, after all the forms have been processed and reviewed and approved, signed and countersigned. But eventually, it comes.)

With Morgan it's simple. It's her steely gaze and a raised eyebrow, questioning. Questions Eva is familiar with.

You sure about this? No taking it back now.

And then, same as always: you all right?

Eva gives a sharp nod, her shoulders relaxing.

That is the only answer Morgan needs from her.

(Morgan has always believed her when Eva tells her she can handle herself. That knowledge, in itself, is reassuring.)

—

With Nate—with Nate it’s not so easy. Not so simple.

It never has been, not with the way they feel about each other, not with the way they cling to each other, to every breath, to every beat of their hearts.

There is worry and fear in his eyes, dark and consuming, and she knows he is thinking about everything that could go wrong. She wants to soothe him, wants to kiss him and tell him it’s okay, it’s going to be okay.

So she does.

And he sinks into it, grateful for the distraction (this, he always is; this has not changed). Grateful for any excuse not to think about what could be, his mouth almost devouring her own in a nearly bruising kiss and here she understands what he is telling her, too.

Please.

Please, I can’t live without you.

I spent three hundred years without you and I can’t do that anymore.

The pendant he had given her lies against the hollow of her throat, warm between them as their bodies press against each other’s, the heliotrope and edelweiss, the white clover and honeysuckle.

Deep devotion, eternal love.

Eternal love.

She does not mention it and neither does he, but she knows it does not escape his notice that she is wearing it. The agreement it stands for, the acceptance.

There had been arguments, before the choice was made.

(Though in reality the choice had been made long, long before, from the first time his hands left trails of fire on her skin and she wanted nothing more than to be branded, burned, for it to leave a permanent, indelible mark.)

(Everything that came after that was just confirmation of what she already knew.)

There had been arguments.

There had been raised voices that she regretted, that she very nearly hated herself for. But she couldn’t understand why or how—this is something she has never understood about Nate, and something Nate has never understood about her.

Humanity, humanity, humanity—

(“Would you rather watch me die?”

She spit out the words at him, not out of malice, but with the knowledge that they would hurt. Knowing, too, that the hurt was necessary. Knowing that unless she did things this way nothing would ever get done.

Nothing would ever get solved, concerning the very glaring problem they were facing.

“I won’t do that to you.”

Mortality was a problem, and this was the solution.

“Even if nothing happens to me, how long do we get before I’m too old? Thirty years? How long is that to you, Nate? You've been alive more than ten times that.”

She paused then, but he said nothing. He'd fallen quiet, and she could feel the harshness of her words and her voice, the knife being twisted deeper each time she spoke, but there was no point to gentling them when he refused to see what was in front of them: they did not, would not have another choice.

“Shit, Adam has been alive a millennium and you will too—are you going to remember me in five hundred years?”)

She pushes the memory away.

She cups his face with both hands now, the kiss turning gentle, soft. His lips brush against hers, lightly, so lightly, and send a tingling feeling through her entire body.

His skin is warm under her hands and the taste of him, mint and rain, almost makes her forget everything else, everything, nothing but him in her thoughts.

Nate.

“I love you,” she whispers in the space between their lips as she pulls away, only a fraction, eyes still half-closed and relishing the taste, the feeling of him. The warm comfort of his hands still tangled in her hair. “Te amo. I'll be fine, mi vida. Don't worry so much about me.”

“You know that's impossible, joonam,” he says in return, and though she knows he is serious (they have discussed this time and time again), there's still a soft smile on his lips.

“And I love you. More than I will ever have the words for.”

She smiles, warm, fond, and nudges her nose against his.

Words have never been her strong suit.

But she’s found them, with him, found words old and new as she has found warmth and light and life.

“I’ll be back to you in no time. You know how stubborn I am,” she says lightly, and kisses him again, short and sweet.

A promise, a beginning.

—

She had asked Adam to do it.

He was the obvious choice,

(choice, choice, choice)

if Nate wouldn’t and Morgan couldn’t; she and Adam don’t often speak but there is respect and there is understanding between them, too. There is determination and a desire for order that they share.

(he had also made a choice, once)

She would trust him with her life, and so she does.

(The fact of the matter is she would trust them all with her life and much more.

Farah just as much as the others, too, even if she is not as close with the younger vampire, by virtue of temperament. But she loves her as she would love a sister, as she would love someone whose absence would make the world dimmer—how funny, she thinks, that she loves her, that she loves them.

She had never loved like this before.)

—

It is difficult not to think of the warehouse on the outskirts of Wayhaven.

Not the one she has almost come to know as home, but the other one, the one where she knew, for the first time, what involvement with the supernatural would truly mean.

The sterile environment of the Agency facility is nothing like it.

Clean-smelling, almost like a clinic; white and well illuminated and with doctors and techs on hand to supervise and monitor.

She signs one final form on entry and then there is nothing standing between her and this.

It is difficult not to think of the first time she felt vampire fangs ripping into her skin.

Adam’s barely puncture her neck, instead of tearing into her wrist as Murphy’s had done. Almost gently, almost delicately—with care and quick efficiency.

It is not the first time since then that she has felt the bite of fangs (always willing, always wanted), but bury it as she may, the memory always resurfaces.

She closes her eyes and focuses on the feeling.

There is a lingering something, an ache in her temples, like being underwater far too deep.

Pressure in her ears, a ringing sound.

It passes after a few seconds and Eva feels the pain in her neck, sharp and deep—there’s warmth and she thinks, oddly, incongruously, that it is not too unlike having her blood drawn.

She is aware of what’s happening: she insisted on knowing the mechanics of it, every step.

The warmth she feels is the injection of venom into her bloodstream, and within minutes it will start attacking her DNA, it will start melding with her own genetic code and changing it, altering it, molding it.

Enhancing it.

Adam withdraws now, pulls away from Eva’s neck and wipes away the very small amount of blood left on his mouth with the back of his hand, his expression unreadable as always.

She has been warned of the pain that comes next.

She has been warned of the way her body will feel like it’s on fire, of the way her muscles will pull and stretch and her bones will reshape and her blood will burn from within.

She has been warned.

But it doesn’t come.

The wound in her neck pulses along with her heartbeat, and there is a trickle of warm blood running down her skin, down her throat.

There is no pain.

By now she should, by all accounts, be undergoing a full transformation, genes and physiognomy rearranged, blood reconfigured.

She should be in agony.

All she feels is the warm trickle of the blood and the pulsing of the small wound.

Nothing is happening.

A different feeling starts to bubble in her throat.

She meets Adam’s eyes, and he looks just as confused as she is.

No mistakes have been made, she knows this, she is sure of this.

Everything has been controlled and accounted for; regulated, monitored.

She sees, out of the corner of her eye, the techs start to speak among themselves.

It’s not working.

Why is it not working?

———

This was inspired by a post by @crowsintheisland asking what would happen to a detective who discovered they couldn’t turn into a supernatural because of their blood. My brain took that idea and ran with it.

#the wayhaven chronicles #nate sewell #oc: eva #qbwrites #qbwritestwc

86 notes · View notes

ateezmakemeweep · 4 years

Note

you’re taking reaction/imagine requests? asdfghjkl um- can we have an imagine with ateez teasing and embarrassing you in front of your classmates during your online classes during quarantine? i know it sounds lame zxcbxm

❥ kim hongjoong

“so i was thinking i could do this part and maybe you could do-“

hongjoong opened the door to your shared bedroom, making you look up from your computer and narrow your eyes at your boyfriend. you subtly shake your head at him before continuing to speak to your project partners.

he had heard you complain for the past week about how they hadn’t been doing anything, that their powerpoint slides and essay portion still wasn’t done despite the deadline being tomorrow. he raised an eyebrow at the girl’s nasally voice saying that she still didn’t quite understand what she had to do.

he could only listen to you for so long try to explain it to her, voice high and shaky the way it always is when you’re uncomfortable; he knows how much you prefer working alone, that group work and public speaking are the two worst aspects for you in school.

it’s why he prances his way over to your desk as you look into the camera, only sensing his presence when he leans over your shoulder and places his arm down on the desk. “are these the girls who weren’t doing shit?” he asks, mouth in your ear but the words loud enough for everyone to hear. your cheeks flame and you push him away from the desk, stuttering out an apology as you glare at hongjoong who’s looking at you from across the room.

embarrassment and all, though, it must’ve hit a nerve in them because when you checked back at the document a few hours later, after yelling and scolding hongjoong for a good thirty minutes, everything was completed.

❥ park seonghwa

you had told him to stay out of the camera. that you would stay in the living room with him but that he couldn’t make a sound or have his presence known.

and it’d been working until your teacher called on you to answer a question, his voice hard and commanding the way all of your classmates have grown used to. everyone had just thought the man hated you all, his blunt way of speaking and loud, booming tone scaring the shit out of all of you for the first few weeks of class.

you came to learn that’s just how he was, a severe case of tough love that some long-time professors just harbor after dealing with loudmouth college kids. but when seonghwa heard the man harshly call your name, his head looked up from his phone and he narrowed his eyes; he didn’t like someone talking to you like that.

“can you give us your thoughts since you’ve just been sitting there with a stupid look on your face.”

he isn’t able to see the small smirk on your face at the professor’s words, instead throwing his phone aside and poking your arm gently.

“who the fuck is he talking to like that?”

your eyes widen as you immediately mute your sound, pushing seonghwa back and shaking your head at him. “seonghwa, are you crazy!?” your laptop is turned away so your classmates and professor don’t see you and your boyfriend talking back and forth, the crazy overprotective man next to you saying he doesn’t care who it is, no one’s allowed to say shit like that to you.

“he doesn’t mean it in a bad way, he’s just like that!” but when seonghwa shakes his head and deems that’s completely unnecessary, you take your laptop and stomp off toward the bedroom. you ignore the call of seonghwa’s voice before you close the door, warning him through gritted your teeth he better not follow you.

when you turn your camera back on, your cheeks are warm and embarrassment floods through you at the smirk on your teacher’s lips and the curious looks of your classmates.

“your boyfriend’s not gonna beat me up, is he?”

❥ jeong yunho

you were listening to the professor’s lecture with your feet in yunho’s lap, the boy quietly doing his own studies as he listened to music through his headphones.

the video session was scheduled for an hour and a half, looking at the time in the corner to reveal only forty minutes have passed. you let out a sigh, resting your head on your hand as you do everything in power to pay attention to the professor’s monotone voice.

yunho looks up and sees the bored expression on your face, pausing his music but remaining nonchalant as he moves his gaze back to his textbook. but just as he hears you start to yawn, he moves his long finger to your foot and scratches up the bottom of your sock-covered skin.

and thank god your mic is muted because you jump and yelp at the ticklish feeling and your laptop falls over into the couch cushion, your squeaky “yunho!” followed by his deep chuckle making you smack him playfully as you adjust yourself again.

you notice a few of your classmates smirking and hope it has nothing to do with your little mishap, squinting at yunho as he continues to laugh at you. when the teacher announces it’s time for a class discussion, you go to move your feet but he grabs your ankle, a pout on his face as he promises not to do it again.

but you missed the way his pointer and middle finger were crossed behind his thigh, the mischievous boy waiting until you started talking to scratch his nail under the bottom of your foot.

“and i think that’s something really import-ANT…in this lesson,” you say, the way you jump making him snort. you kick him in the side before sitting up, apologizing to your professor before you attempt to continue your intellectual discussion.

❥ kang yeosang

you thought it was lucky that your class time matched up with yeosang’s practice time, a quiet peaceful hour and a half for you to sip your coffee and really pay attention to the lecture.

but since you were in your room, you didn’t hear the front door or the sound of shoes hitting the floor. you only became aware of your boyfriend at the same time as your whole class, your bedroom door pushing open and yeosang jumping to belly flop onto the bed directly behind you.

“hi, baby! shit, i am so sweaty, i can’t believe-“

“uh, yeosang-“ you try to say but the boy only takes a heavy breath and continues to talk, going on about how difficult the new choreography is and how if he doesn’t start working out hard, it’s gonna be the death of him. and you love that he’s telling you all of this, you really do, but you’re also not ignorant of the fact that your entire call has turned silent in amusement and fascination at yeosang’s cute rambling.

“why are you sitting over there, can’t you just lay with me so i can-“

“yeosang, please stop talking,” you beg him quietly, the panic in your voice causing him to look up; your cheeks are burning and you look about ready to burst out into awkward laughter, the boy’s face dropping when he sees about 25 boxes of random faces staring at him.

“oh-oh my god! oh my, god! i’m so sorry, i’m just gonna- why wouldn’t you tell me!” he frantically runs out of the room, your own hand covering your face because it’s not even like he gave you a chance.

“i’m sorry,” you say to your class, your pink cheeks causing your professor to smile and shake her head, carrying on with the lesson like you and your boyfriend aren’t gonna hide under the covers in embarrassment for the rest of the day over this.

❥ choi san

your teacher didn’t require sound during lectures but she liked to make sure everyone was up and awake for the eight a.m class, always asking you guys to leave your cameras on so she can see you’re “attentive and alert.”

and usually you didn’t mind but today san was fast asleep so you had your headphones in, your camera turned away from your bed and facing the bright window as you tried your hardest not to nod off right then and there.

you didn’t think you woke san when you snuck out from under his arm but you found that you were sadly mistaken, just twenty minutes into the lecture his whiny morning voice starting.

“baby….come back to bed,” he mumbled into the pillow, a smirk on your lips as you look over at him. his one eye peeks open and he sees you sitting at the desk in front of your laptop, wearing his shirt and a pair of shorts with knee high socks that makes him all too desperate and needy to have you back in bed with him.

you watch his eyes rake over you and a pout make its way on his face, holding his arm out as he whines out your name. “soon, san, i’m almost done,” you tell him, even though it’s a lie and you hope he’ll fall back asleep within the next few minutes

but he waits for all about five before he gets up, concentrating on writing notes down with the professor’s voice in your ear that you miss the way he shuffles toward you. it’s not until he wraps his arms around you from behind and buries his face in your neck that you realize he’s here, your eyes shooting to the camera and cheeks flushing before raising it to the ceiling.

“san! my whole class just saw that!” you squeal, the way he pulls your neck back to kiss your lips proving he’s completely unbothered by the fact; he just wants you back in the warm bed, who cares about school?

❥ song mingi

“guys, you have to be quiet!” your roommate tells the boys, “y/n’s on a video chat with her class and-”

mingi, in a burst of excitement to finally see you after being apart for a week, ignores the girl’s words and bursts right into your room. his deep, happy yelp of your name and excited waves causes you to snap your head back and smile immediately at him; your heart softens at the way he’s bouncing like a giant child.

you return a small wave before nodding toward the door, holding up your two palms and wiggling your fingers to indicate ten more minutes. but the boy just doesn’t get it, making his way over to you before he stops and sees a whole laptop of people staring at him.

he looks at you in surprise, like he wasn’t already warned that you were doing this, before jumping to the side and waiting politely in your bean bag chair.

you turn back around and have to fight the smiling desperate to make it’s way on your pink cheeks, ignoring the way your friend in the class starts private messaging you asking who the cute boy behind you was.

❥ jung wooyoung

“why’s your camera off, y/n?”

your eyes narrow at the obnoxiously familiar voice coming through your laptop speakers, shaking your head as you do your best not to curse him out.

given that your real class time is over two hours, your professor allows for a fifteen minute break where usually everyone either turns off their cameras to eat or has one big chaotic chat, usually led by no other than

“wooyoung, shut up,” you snap when you can’t take it anymore, his nonstop questioning and high pitched giggle piercing right through your eyes.

“why don’t you say it to my face?” he counters and you can just hear the smirk in his voice. you leave your computer and stomp out of your bedroom and down the hall, kicking open the door to see the boy himself sitting in front of his laptop with a shit eating grin on his face.

“we are never taking another class together again!”

❥ choi jongho

“any last minute questions?”

“oh, um yes!” you reluctantly speak up, hating to ask in the first place and especially now over this new type of video chat set up. “about the project, should we be using apa format or-”

“goodbye, baby, goodbye!”

your mouth drops open and heat immediately creeps on your face, jongho walking past you with headphones in as he sings and dances like there’s no one around. but there’s about thirty of you around, his singing piercing through the speakers of every single one of your classmates as they watch him shimmy and shake across the room.

he continues his singing until he closes the door to the bathroom and you don’t even think he noticed you sitting in your desk at the corner, an awkward laugh threatening to bubble out of your mouth as you try to regain your composure.

“i’m so sorry,” you blurt out, cheeks pink as you shake your head and try to ignore the giggles coming from your classmate when, even from the bathroom, they can hear jongho singing his heart out.

#ateez #ateez reactions #request

591 notes · View notes