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mzmezzler · 3 years

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Rouge - Felix x Fem!reader

shortlist: sub!felix, dom!reader, marking, praising, humiliation, mommy kink, lipstick, body worship, teasing, begging, no real sex, (Felix is pretty non-verbal in this cause he just woke up)

word count: 1.3k

summary: based off this thought I had

a/n: I had to write this for the lipstick that inspired it all being gone...my beloved red bullet broke. like a week and a half ago like this is mad late So yeah this is a flowery self insert I'm grieving.

Any and all feedback is appreciated :)

Sitting at the vanity nestled in the corner of your bedroom, you go about putting on your daily makeup, save for the new lipstick you bought the other day. It was a smooth, crimson that looked soft and bold all the same. All in cased in sleek, black packaging, you loved the product and felt like trying it out today.

While applying your base makeup, Felix stirs in bed causing you to turn to give him a warm smile as he groans at the sunlight hitting his scrunched face. Being an early riser has its perks. Seeing Felix rub over his face within the sheets was always a sight with the way his blonde hair would shine in the morning light as it stuck every which way.

Turning back towards the mirror you go about finishing your face and reaching for the lipstick.

Twisting it open and pressing the product to the center of your top lip, you catch a flash of Felix’s head perked up from the cover to look at you.

Training your focus back to your lips, you continue to fill in your lips, but get distracted as Felix’s stare hasn’t faltered.

“Why are you staring so hard?” You ask, still applying in the mirror absentmindedly.

His gaze has an odd air so you continue, “You wanna try it hun?” You chuckle without missing a beat. But judging by Felix’s unreadable expression you would have to press on. Looking between Felix and the point of the lipstick still pressed to your lips you turn around in your vanity chair to gauge his stare.

The boy was looking with his eyes flitting about since you called him out of his bluff. And now like a caught child, he fidgets under the covers with his eyes lowered. Despite the boy still being groggy from sleep, you could still see the interest in how he longing watched you from the vanity.

It wasn’t anything new for Felix to watch you apply your makeup under the guise of it being relaxing to watch, which you wouldn’t discredit him from; it was relaxing for you to apply.

This stare just felt different.

“You wanna try it don’t you.” You say.

Rolling your eyes at his silence, you get up and cross the room over to him with the product in hand. Sitting in front of the blonde in bed, you cross your leg over the other and hold the bullet applicator up to his face at a distance, “You’re gonna look so pretty Lixie.” Leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek you grin at the print left behind and the light blush blossoming on his cheeks, “Don't be shy love.”

“You’re wearing it a little now, let’s just get it on your pretty lips then.”

The small smile that forms on his face spurs you on to pressing another dusty pink kiss onto his chin, “Will you let me?” You whisper softly. He’s been so quiet, lost in his cloudy thoughts while you pressed a second lip print to his skin. You hover over his skin as if to wait for his permission.

Gulping lowly, a small hitch in Felix’s breath is barely audible.

“Please” He whispers back.

Pressing the point of the lipstick to his lips is light but firm, gliding the product on expertly, Felix melts into your touch as you slide closer to him to swipe the product on properly.

The two of you were pressed against each other with only the sheets sandwiched between you two in the way. It was within this moment that you realize the boy is completely bare compared to your pajama clad form.

And in this realization was the sight of Felix’s chest flushing at your wandering eyes.

Shrinking underneath the unwavering eyes scanning his form, Felix starts to slide himself underneath the comforter, “You’re staring” he whispers plainly.

“Yes, and you don’t have to hide from me baby.” You say while wiping off some of the excess with your finger.

Pulling away to take in the image of Felix, bare and in his most raw form; fresh out of bed and now with the quick application of a dusty crimson staining his lips, he’s sinful.

The blonde looks back at you through his lashes, “Do I look ok?”

“You look like an absolute dream baby” You say leaning in to close the gap between the two of you.

Even though you just applied the lipstick, the feel of the product dragging between your mouths is one you’ve never felt before.

Bringing your hand up to run your nails over the back of Felix’s head and cradle his neck, the blonde moans into the kiss. The subtle smell of the cosmetic clouding your minds while the crimson goes on to stain around your mouths.

You break the kiss to let the air rush in between the pair of you. Felix thumbs away the spit collecting on his lip to only smear the mess of red more, whining out when you tug the cover shielding the rest of his body from view. With the cover out of the way, you slowly press the boy onto his back and settle beside him to resume the kiss on your sides.

Felix’s neediness was growing by the second while he writhes around in the covers, gripping at the sheets while you lick and nip your way down his body. This chiseled chest rises rapidly while you drag your tongue over the divots over his torso, leaving pink and red marks and smudges in your wake.

God, he looked like sin.

"Fuck, look at how hard you already are" You murmur. The boy had gotten so hard as you took your time to caress and worship his body while you covered it in bites and lip prints. He was a canvas to be covered and used for you. "You're getting so worked up for me baby" You coo.

"P-please"

"Please what Lixie?" You say while absentmindedly feel over his form and kiss onto his inner thighs.

Swallowing hard and groaning to himself Felix shakely speaks up, "Please use me mommy."

Biting at the boy's inner thigh, you grab the discarded lipstick and twist the product up, "Oh don't you worry love, I just have to do something right quick so I can really remember this." You sigh.

Felix pulls a face when you press the lipstick onto his navel and go on to scrawl out the phrase "Use Me" over his groin and finish it off with an arrow pointing down to his untouched cock. Sealing the words with another lip print Felix pants out a heavy “Fuck” and moves to throw his head back while you continue to write over his body, scribbling “Mommy’s property” over his collar.

The way Felix curls his toes and twists his legs together as you touch everywhere but his twitching erection that his hands hover around. You could tell he was nearing his breaking point by the way his fingers twitch and jolt, but you still wanted to tease him further.

“How does it feel baby?” You press. When you only get a shallow shake of his head you urge him, “Move these hands baby, let me see”

"It's embarrassing." the blonde mumbles.

Ignoring his words to peel away the hands covering his groin you uncover the boy’s bright red cock, with precum dripping over this chest, “M-mommy please.” Looking towards you with teary eyes he continues, “I’m close”

“You can cum if you need to Lixie” You smirk. He whines at your neglect, but cries out when you start to toy with the boy’s nipples and spills over your chests.

Sitting back to observe your work, you revel in the sight before you. Felix was always so pretty in red.

#sub!idol #sub!kpop #dom!reader #skz smut #sub!skz #skz x you #skz x reader #felix smut #sub!felix #skz felix smut #sub!stray kids #sub!stray kids x reader #skz drabble

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ikroah · 3 years

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Whiskey river, take my mind, don't let her memory torture me. Whiskey river, don't run dry, you're all I got, take care of me. —“Whiskey River,” Shotgun Willie (1973)

It Keeps Right On a-Hurtin’ #15 - Vegas Outskirts

Collaborative Issue! Guest Colorist: @malpaislegate / @socksual-innuendos

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Read IKROAH on Archive of Our Own

Notes / Original Pencils / Transcript:

Notes:

MAN that’s gotta hurt!! Volume 2 kicks off with a bang, literally if you count the gunshot and honorifically if you count Socks’ knockout color job on this issue. Look at those lovingly rendered bullet wounds!! Muah!!!

It’s been a relief having a month off from the comic as I handled a bunch of other things but there’s a lot to look forward to in Volume 2, as you can probably tell from that very forboding fist clench at the end there. Will Agnes and Cass get the revenge they’re looking for? Can they make it big in Vegas? Will it keep right on a-hurtin’? Find out next ish as Cass leads Agnes to meet the first of their new “friends.”

Original Pencils:

The pencils for this issue are like an autopsy report of all the things that can go wrong with your art if you don’t plan ahead and pay attention. Listen, friend, to my tale of woe, and learn from my mistakes so they don’t become yours!

First, you can see a lot of places where there’s floating objects, empty backgrounds, and incomplete heads. Part of this is because I always intended to just copy and paste repeated elements across each panel instead of drawing them multiple times, but other times I was forced to just because of my lack of planning. The top three panels on page two, for example, required me to draw the background I’d use for them on a separate page.

Second, you can probably tell that I actually had to flip the two raiders around in the final lineart because I forgot to keep the hands their were holding their guns in consistent—and since I couldn’t flip the middle panel on the second page without ruining the composition, I decided to flip all of their other appearances so that they’d be lefties. I doubt you even can seamlessly wield those particular guns left-handed.

Third, the size of the cart that Agnes and Cass are kneeling behind changes CONSTANTLY and is dramatically oversized from the third page onward. After inking these pages, it took a lot of work to correct the inks and shrink that cart in each panel, but fortunately it came out looking good.

And finally, I completely redrew the second panel on the fifth page because it wasn’t until I had already handed he pages off to my colorist that I realized having a second profile shot of Cass so soon after a first one was just...redundant and lazy-looking. So I went back to my sketchbook and whipped up a much more unique, striking angle (I also just wasn’t satisfied with the quality of my art on that panel, so I’m very glad I redrew it). But again, my failure to plan ahead bit me in the ass and my redraw attempt wound up taking up a lot more space than I thought it would, so after inking it I had to basically surgically remove it from the other inks.

I’ll be honest with you folks: part of the reason that I work in such simple, thick, high-contrast lineart is because it’s very easy to make corrections and adjustments with stuff you could technically color in Microsoft Paint.

Transcript:

EXT. SOMEWHERE IN THE MOJAVE, morning. AGNES SANDS and ROSE OF SHARON CASSIDY stand over the wreckage of a caravan, scattered over a dirt road.

CASS: Hell.

EXT. SOMEWHERE ELSE IN THE MOJAVE, midday. Looking over a second wrecked caravan, at the bottom of a ditch.

CASS: Fuck.

EXT. PRE-WAR HIGHWAY OUTSIDE OF VEGAS, mid-afternoon. AGNES and CASS survey a third wrecked caravan.

CASS: Shit. The proof is in the pudding. Or the pile of ash, rather. These attacks were done with Van Graff guns for Crimson Caravan caps. I'm sure of it.

As CASS explains her theory to AGNES, a short distance from the caravan two RAIDERS peer at the two of them from inside a barn at a ruined farmstead. They have snake-bite tattoos on the sides of their shaved heads and are holding rifles.

CASS: The scorchmarks and residue in the wreckages? That's energy weapon shit. Plasma and laser. Silver Rush special. Not like it'd be the Brotherhood. And Crimson Caravan must have bankrolled this fucked-up little hunting trip themselves.

The RAIDERS move out from the barn, sneaking up on two passers-by who’ve stopped at the caravan wreckage.

CASS: That explains why they bought me out...they needed the last loose end to saddle up back west with a tidy sum.

(NOTE: *Agnes delivered it and Cass signed it in IKROAH #7—Lou.)

CASS: It's a racket, Agnes: torch the local competition and it's win-win for both the f—

SFX: KRAK

A gunshot rips out from one of the RAIDERS’ rifles and sears across CASS’ shoulder.

CASS (gasping): —uckers.

CASS slumps down beneath the overturned caravan wagon on the road, clutching her shot shoulder.

CASS: —Aaggghghhhhhhh.

AGNES: Cass! Are you—

CASS: Fuck! Agnes, get down you moron!

AGNES ducks behind the cover of the wooden caravan wagon just as another gunshot splinters the top lip of it.

SFX: DTHWAK!

The RAIDERS advance on CASS and AGNES’ position, firing at them from off the road.

SFX: KRAK

AGNES leans over the top of the wagon with her pistol, returning fire.

SFX: BTAK BTAK BTAK

AGNES lands a shot right in one of the RAIDERS’ guts, and she drops her weapon and falls down.

SFX: SPLUT

CASS, leaning out the side of the wagon, takes as careful of aim as she can with her shotgun by holding it with her good arm. Trembling, she fires, connecting with the other RAIDER.

SFX: KBLAM

The would-have-been RAIDERS are dead.

AGNES: ...were those the Van Graffs?

CASS: No. Just some vultures.

CASS leans back behind cover to sit against the bottom of the overturned wagon again, wincing from her shoulder injury.

CASS: Ugghhn.

AGNES (slipping off duffel bag): Cass, your shoulder—

CASS: Yeah, it's been shot. I'm pretty fucking aware.

AGNES (unzipping bag): Quick, can you take your shirt off—

CASS: What!?

AGNES: —so I can dress the wound, Cass!

CASS: Oh! Good! So you weren't coming onto me on what remains of Griffin Wares Caravan.

CASS starts removing her shirt while AGNES produces a bottle of something from her duffel bag, and dampens a rag with its contents.

CASS: And since when are you a fucking field medic, anyway?

AGNES: 2269. NCR Certified.

CASS: What?

AGES: Yeah. I've been one kind of doctor or another since I was six.

CASS: What?

AGNES: Now hold still, this is antiseptic.

CASS: Since you were six!? I...shit, wait, hang on, Agnes—

AGNES pressess the rag onto CASS’ shoulder wound, and CASS winces instinctively. But, confusingly, there isn’t any pain.

CASS: ...isn't this supposed to sting like hell?

AGNES: No, not really. It's an acetic acid solution. Vinegar, basically.

AGNES begins cleaning the wound with the rag.

CASS: I thought you put alcohol on wounds to clean them.

AGNES: That's...a common misconception. It's good for tools, maybe, but too strong for skin. And it can complicate healing if you apply it directly.

CASS: So you're telling me, all my years, I've been wasting good whiskey only making my boo-boos worse?

AGNES: I mean...it's better than nothing in a pinch, but...

CASS: Well, then. Thanks for the lecture, doc. Can you just pass the whiskey anyway? Shoulder still hurts like hell regar—

AGNES hands her the whiskey bottle. She’d already gotten it out.

CASS: —dless. Oh. Thanks.

AGNES unspools a roll of bandages in her hands, then begins wrapping it over CASS’ shoulder and across her chest..

AGNES: So. It's a relatively minor wound, more of a deep graze than a real gunshot.

CASS: You'd know all about real gunshots, huh?

AGNES (unfazed): Uh-huh. I can suture it if necessary, but for now, these bandages will be fine. Just hold still. How do you feel?

CASS: I feel fucking pissed, Agnes!

AGNES recoils, taken aback slightly.

CASS: As I was saying before I got shot in the shoulder—which, however "minor" the wound, is real fucking close to my head, Agnes—this wasn't some random attack. These caravans, my caravan, got hit by the Van Graffs and Crimson Caravan. It ain't just some tragedy anymore. Now I've got names. Places. Faces.

AGNES resumes bandaging CASS.

CASS: I told you—ow! Don't pinch my tit, dammit—

AGNES: I said hold still.

CASS: —I told you, when you told me about this guy who shot you...when I let you drag me out of that fucking outpost...and when we went to Boulder City...that I would do the exact same thing in your shoes. Now, it is the exact same thing. This fucker shoots your eye out, these fuckers ash my caravan...these same fuckers I sold my own goddamn name to on a piece of paper. I mean...what else are we doing out here, Agnes? Getting shot at by Khans and Raiders just for kicks? Are we just fucking around?

AGNES finishes bandaging CASS, then leans back, pensive.

AGNES: No...no, I really guess we’re not.

CASS: That's what I thought. Your friend in Vegas can wait. Help me get mine, and we can get that shitheel together, and that's a prom—

CASS raises her arm to shake her fist as she speaks, straining her shoulder injury.

CASS: —mmmmmmghhhh. Ooww, oww, oww, oww...

CASS grabs her shoulder in pain while AGNES looks off in the distance and stands up. She looks out towards the horizon—towards VEGAS, and the pre-war casinos and hotels that still gleam and glitter in blinding sunlight.

Her fist clenches. Her brow furrows. Her body tenses, all over, staring at that city, that place.

The caravan wreckage remains alone on the highway, brahmin bones long picked clean by scavengers.

AGNES SANDS IN: IT KEEPS RIGHT ON A HURTIN’

VOLUME 2: MAKE IT BIG IN VEGAS

#fallout new vegas #fallout #courier six #rose of sharon cassidy #volume 02 #15 #ikroah archive

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thenovelartist · 3 years

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Burned Beginnings, Chapter 3

<<Previous Next>>

7. Homemade Gifts

Marinette prided herself in not caring about the looks of others. After all, beauty meant nothing if their heart was trash. They’d always just be a pig in lipstick.

Unfortunately, if they did have a good heart, Marinette discovered that she did care for their looks a little more than she would have cared to admit. Particularly when it came to a former model turned baker.

Which was why, much to her chagrin, she’d ended up losing the bet.

It was just a pair of glasses. A simple, functional accessory. However, with the frame he had, ones that held a dark green hue that accented his eyes and were square in form—somehow, a perfect match for his angular face—she couldn’t help but to have stared a bit.

By the time she caught herself, Adrien was already grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

She hoped beyond all hope her cheeks hadn’t colored, or at the very least, Adrien hadn’t caught it.

And now, she was having to bite the bullet and watch an anime of his choosing. Honestly, it wasn’t a bad loss.

Hopefully.

Depending on what he chose…

Oh, please don’t be anything stupid.

Marinette finished her work, then clocked out, hurrying to go shower quickly before Adrien came over. Not that Adrien hadn’t seen her covered in flour and looking like a hot mess already, but she’d rather be clean and comfy if she was going to have to suffer through her punishment for losing the bet. They had planned to meet at her house for the viewing. Adrien would bring over his computer and cables to hook it up to their tv so that he could easily access his anime accounts. He said it would be a piece of cake.

She threw on a comfy t-shirt and lounge pants, then she dried her hair. Once that was done, she went downstairs to begin preparing the dinner she’d prepped earlier that day.

Halfway through, a knock sounded on the door, signaling Adrien’s arrival. She answered, only for her gaze to fall to the box in his hands. “What’s that?”

One of his hands reached up to rub the back of his neck. “I wanted to bring some homemade food since I knew you’d be working all day. And I need to practice my cooking skills, anyway.”

She smiled, taking the offered gift. “Thanks, but I actually started making something thinking that it was the least I could do since you were bringing everything over.”

Adrien looked surprised for a moment before he chuckled. “We should have planned that better.”

“Oh well. Left overs for days, right?” she said with a shrug, stepping aside to let him in.

“That’s one way to look at it.”

8. Commissions

“Can I ask a question?”

“I don’t know? Can you?”

Adrien looked up from his computer screen to shoot a grinning Marinette a flat look. This was the fourth time he’d come over so they could continue the anime he’d chosen. He had known from Mr. Dupain that he and his daughter both loved video games, and henceforth, he’d chosen accordingly in hopes to get Marinette hooked.

He knew he’d succeeded when they binged the first four episodes the first day. He’d then hung it over her head that “why would he come back again? He’d won the bet, and she’d paid her price, so for what reason did he have to come over again?”

He had had fun teasing her, because her huffy, unamused expression was too darn endearing.

“Look,” she’d said. “I just need to know what happens to Princess Bitch.”

He’d snorted, trying and failing to withhold his laugh. “You don’t get to call her that yet.”

“Why not? You don’t get to pull that level of manipulative bullshit, ruining the other person’s life like that, and not be dubbed with the title ‘Princess Bitch’.”

“So…” he drawled out, teasingly. “Are you saying you care about this anime?”

She’d fallen silent, and he couldn’t help but to laugh once more.

In the end, after more teasing on his part, he’d caved and said he’d come over again so they could finish it out.

Hence why he was here now.

“Haha, funny,” Adrien deadpanned, turning back to his screen.

“Okay, okay. I’ll be nice,” she said a little too sweetly, placing two plates of food on the coffee table before plopping down on the couch. “What’s on your mind?”

He took a second to log into his account before turning back to her. “I don’t know if this is overstepping, but… are you happy working at your parents’ bakery?”

Marinette froze, and for a moment, Adrien grew worried.

Thankfully, she seemed to take it well, although it was clear she was confused. “What brought that on?”

Adrien shrugged, looking at his screen again to select their anime of choice. “I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I feel like we’re close enough to be friends. Right?”

Marinette didn’t hesitate to nod. “Yeah, I would consider you one.”

Adrien pushed aside the very happy feeling that blossomed in his chest. “I guess I’m just… curious… about you… as a friend, of course.”

“No, I get it,” she assured. “Now that you mention it, I guess I could say the same for you.”

Adrien felt extra warm now. “So, do I get an answer to my question?”

Marinette paused, her expression falling as she bit her lip. “Only if you promise to keep it secret from my parents.”

“Yeah, totally,” he promised, smile falling from his face. “Cat’s honor.”

Marinette sighed. “I… I am happy,” she said. “Really. It’s not an issue of me being happy here. But running my parents’ bakery wasn’t my dream, you know?”

With the episode loading, Adrien decided to take a seat next to Marinette. “What was your dream?”

“I wanted to be a fashion designer.”

That came as a surprise to Adrien. “Really? What stopped you?”

“Chloe.”

Somehow… that answer shouldn’t have surprised him. “Chloe?”

“She got her mom to block me from going to any fashion or design school.”

“She what?!”

“Shhh!” Marinette shushed, finger over his lips. “Not so loud.”

Adrien felt his face heat at her touch. “Er…sorry.”

She then took her finger away, and Adrien tried not to think about why he was disappointed. “Chloe did that?” he asked, his voice just above a whisper. “How? And how’d you know?”

“Um…” She suddenly turned sheepish, and that spitfire edge he’d come to love diminished a bit. It made her look younger and sweeter. He didn’t mind that change. “Well, due to the methods used to acquire such information, I must refrain from answering that. Just know I trust my source and the information that was found.”

Adrien sighed. Honestly, even if he wanted to come to Chloe’s defense, he couldn’t. She ran in a pretty elite crowd and had some powerful connections. If she wanted to block someone from entering a fashion school, she could. And since Adrien knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t be above such tricks, Adrien accepted Marinette’s word as truth.

Besides, he knew Marinette well enough by now to know she hated liars. He doubted she’d lie about this.

“So, have you thought about applying outside the country?”

“Yeah,” she answered. “I just… didn’t. It felt too overwhelming.”

“So, what about skipping the education entirely? Find a niche and start your own business taking commissions or what not?”

Marinette paused, her eyes glazing over a moment as she thought. “I… it’s an idea that’s come up before.”

“So, what’s stopping you?” Adrien asked. “Even if you got an education later, you’d at least have a reputation you’re building up now.”

Again, Marinette was silent. “You know…” she began, her tone softer and more earnest than he’d ever heard before. It felt raw. Open. And that did something to his heart.

Protect her. The words popped up in his head, and his heart clenched onto them before he could even realize it. But all he could do at the moment was listen. So he would.

“I decided I’d step back and do a lot of thinking.”

“About?”

She sighed. “It’s easy to say ‘I love fashion so I want to be a designer’. It’s easy to have those dreams. It’s easy to think that your hobby can become your profession. But the easy stuff isn’t all the fashion world consists of. It’s a competitive world filled with both nice people and people like Audrey Bourgeois. It’s filled with more than fashion, and when faced with the reality that I’d been barred from fashion college because one person in the industry had that much power, I had to do some reflecting. If I accept fashion as my career, I get to set foot into that world. And I had to face the question of ‘am I ready and willing to accept that?’”

When Marinette came to a pause, Adrien stopped to think of his response. “Honestly, as someone who comes from that world, I completely understand your feelings. I’ve seen the good, and I’ve seen the bad. I’ve watched people succeed and climb the ladder, and I’ve watched people crash and burn. And I think there’s such a fine line between the two.”

“See, that just feels validating,” Marinette said, small smile on her face. “I understand that that is basically every job field. I understand some are better than others. But with what I’ve seen from the fashion world… I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m as adamant about it as I was when I was in high school.”

Adrien sighed. “I don’t understand what it’s like to have a passion,” he admitted. “I’ve never had one, so this might not mean anything coming from me, but I think… it would be better to keep your passion a hobby… if the profession will burn you out. Because then you’re not just loosing your profession, but the hobby meant to bring you joy.”

Marinette was silent for a minute, and Adrien thought he’d said something wrong. But that tension in his chest eased hen a small smile crept up on her lips. “That’s good advice,” she finally said. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Adrien reached out to pat her shoulder, surprising her a moment. When she turned to him, eyes wide and clear once again, he gave her a smile. “I’ll be rooting for you. And if there’s anything I can help you with, I’d be happy to assist.”

Slowly, her small smile grew. “Thanks,” she said, her voice surprisingly sweet. But she soon turned away, and Adrien pulled his hand back. “So, um… fair’s fair,” she started up again. “Are you happy working here?”

Adrien didn’t hesitate to nod. “Honestly, it’s hard work, but it’s something that I chose, for once. This is something I myself am doing. I don’t want to say the novelty of doing this hasn’t worn off yet, but it feels… worthwhile.”

Marinette nodded. “Have you considered other paths or what you want to do for the future? Or do you see this being long term?”

Adrien shrugged. “I don’t know, yet,” he said. “Honestly, this whole ‘I’m my own person and on my own’ thing still hasn’t fully caught up to me yet. I feel like I’m still playing pretend. It’s… weird.” He turned back to her, forcing a smile. “Hazard of growing up super sheltered, I guess.”

Marinette hummed. “Well, I think you know Papa will love having you around as long as you plan to stay.”

He smiled, a genuine grin this time. “Yeah, I know. And you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you mind having Asshole Agreste around?”

Her expression changed from shock to irritation. “Are you really gonna dredge up that old nickname? No, wait!” Her brow furrowed in a mix of anger and confusion. “Where did you even hear that? I never called you that here!”

He grinned a little wider than he’d thought he would. “Chloe.”

Marinette growled.

He couldn’t help but laugh.

“You know I don’t think of you like that anymore, right?”

He couldn’t help teasing her a bit more. “I don’t know. Do I?”

Marinette glowered at him, and he burst into laughter again.

With a growl, she turned away, crossing her arms with a huff. “Just turn on the anime again. I need to see Princess Bitch get her comeuppance.”

Adrien laughed. “We’re only on episode fourteen. You still don’t get to call her that yet.”

“Why?” she cried. “What’s gonna happen in the next few episodes that changes? Does she get worse? And if so, how? She’s already about as low as she can go. Like, almost past Chloe-level.”

He shook his head. “Nevermind. Just wait and see.”

9. Baking Lessons

Marinette felt like she was up to her ears in information.

After her talk with Adrien, she decided that she should do her research on the fashion industry as much as she could. But she also knew to take everything with a grain of salt. Only once she felt prepared enough would she make a decision on her future.

On one hand, it was satisfying to pick up her dreams again, dust them off, and put plans to them. On the other, it was overwhelming, and more did once did Adrien’s warning of “don’t burn out your passion” cross her mind.

It was well into the afternoon that she realized a break might be in order and food would be beneficial.

She headed down into kitchen, only to startle at the unfamiliar face there.

“Um… what are you doing in my house?”

Adrien glanced over his shoulder to look at her, then shot her a smile. “Your parents asked me to. They each had their break and said you hadn’t been down all day. So now it’s my turn for a break, and they asked if I’d take a minute to make sure you ate.”

Marinette looked at the sandwich on the plate he extended towards her. After staring at it a moment, she realized she should take it. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Busy?”

“Yeah. I… kinda forgot the last time I was so engrossed in something that I forgot to eat like this.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Um… I decided to dig into researching the fashion industry.”

Adrien turned back around, glancing at her with surprise. “Oh? How’s it going?”

Marinette’s lips pursed in thought. “Up and down. Every other article seems to pull me the opposite direction.”

“Fair,” he said with a nod. “Which way are you leaning now?”

“The ‘This is bullshit. Why do I want to be in this hellish industry?’ direction.”

A lopsided grin flashed across Adrien’s face. “I feel that on a personal level.”

“I’m sure you do,” she muttered, walking over to the table to have a seat. “But enough of me griping. You? Have you thought of your future at all since our talk?”

He grabbed a paper bag on the counter, pulling out a tupperware container with a sandwich of his own inside. “Not really.”

“Not really?” she probed, pointing at the seat directly across from her.

He took the hint and took a seat. “I haven’t given much thought to anything beyond the baking lessons your father has been giving me. I mean, maybe one day I’ll go to school for something, but I’ve really decided to give myself a full year of this before committing to anything. Let me learn how to be an adult on my own first before I move forward, you know? It’s easier to start running when your feet are solidly under you.”

“Understandable,” Marinette said. “But just so you know, I’m going to hold you to that, now.”

“Oh?”

“Yup. I’d like you to know you have six months, three weeks, and five days remaining before you have to make a decision.”

Adrien froze, sandwich halfway to his mouth.

Marinette couldn’t help but giggle.

“Is that a legit number or one you just threw out.”

“I don’t know. What do you think?”

“I think that when it comes to you, I don’t always know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

She giggled, feeling a little too giddy for her liking. She played it off with a wink. “Got to keep you on your toes somehow.”

Adrien scoffed. “Don’t worry about that,” he dismissed with a charming smile that she hated to admit could knock her off her feet if she were standing. “You already do.”

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #adrienette #AdrinetteApril2021 #teasing #fluff #and a heart to heart talk #Bonus points to whoever guesses the anime XD

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darkacademicfrom2021 · 3 years

Text

Away. So, so far away.

<<Previous part Masterlist Next part>>

Word count: 2K

Warnings: bullet wounds, hospital, swearing.

Oh darling, please believe me

I’ll never do you no harm…

The music reverberated through the whole floor. You danced around, and Bucky was the only one that joined you, if not a little shyly. Tony sat on the couch flipping through some news and sighed as he asked you to change to a better music.

“Nothing is better than The Beatles, Stark”, you said in between laughs, and Bucky flipped you in the air. His strength almost matched Loki’s, and you weren’t afraid of him dropping you to the floor.

Believe me when I tell you,

I’ll never do you no harm.

“Uh, I beg to differ”, he raised an eyebrow, still with his eyes on his current research. “By the way, are you coming to the next mission?”.

“I’ll ask Loki. I told him he could join me”.

“Well?”, he inquired, pointing with his head at the door from your room. You didn’t know if you wanted to say it out loud. The common room had not only Tony, but also Bucky, Steve and Clint. You sighed. "He's sleeping".

"Liar. You wouldn't be here".

“Okay. He’s out now”.

“Where? It’s four in the morning”, he laughed, and then dropped his news to look at you with concern, realizing. “Oh”.

“No, it’s not… it’s not what you think. He goes on walks to keep his mind busy”, you lied.

“Sure. At four in the morning”.

Oh darling, if you leave me,

I’ll never make it alone.

“Yes, we don’t question his ways, okay? He’s been feeling bad”, you defended him, and turned the music higher. With a hand gesture, you invited Steve to dance with you. He chuckled and accepted it.

Truth was, you had no idea where Loki was now. He kissed you goodnight when he thought you were asleep, muttered something along the lines of I’m sorry, I’ll get this fixed, and left around midnight. He should have been in bed by now, and you couldn’t call him or check on him in any way. Not without compromising the secretism, anyway.

And you were upset. You were so, so upset, because you’ve had fights about this for the past week, and still he thought it best to just do as he pleased when you were supposedly asleep. You were so, so upset. But concerned at best, because he never told you what his plan was about. He had no regard for his safety. He could be getting injured, at best. He could be getting killed under the hands of the Mad Titan or whoever huge predecessor of Layfey that would be guarding the throne. He could be getting hurt and killed and in pain and he blocked you out so you could do nothing about it.

So you danced. You drank coffee to keep you awake until he came home, and moved your hips to the rhythm of the music. Trying to forget the matter for a while.

Believe me when I beg you,

Don’t ever leave me alone.

“Hey”, called Thor, walking in with the pillow marks on his face. “Turn down that thing, it’s too late”, he asked. “Oh, you’re here. Where is my brother? Sleeping?”.

“On a long and weird walk”, said Clint without looking away from Steve’s awful dance moves. He was getting ready to pull off his phone and become famous on tiktok. You spinned under Steve’s old-fashioned steps.

“Walk? At these hours?”, he laughed. “My brother doesn’t do that”.

“Yes, he does”, you said nonchalantly, trying to hide your unease. Maybe you should’ve stayed in your room. That way, your loneliness in the late night wouldn’t be too evident.

You had grabbed Loki by the wrist before he left. He knew he didn’t leave you sleeping—you asked him to stay. You told him there was nothing he could do about it anymore. He murmured he could and he would, and the mere thought of being able to fix it all kept him up at night anyway, so he might as well go and get it.

You told him if he loved you he would stay. He told you he was doing this because he loved you. He told you it was the —only— way to keep both of you safe and together. You thought he was wrong, and that thought remained there, eating your brains alive, while you tried to dance it out. A knot in your throat kept you from talking any further.

When you told me you didn't need me anymore,

Well you know I nearly broke down and cried.

When you told me you didn't need me anymore,

Well you know I nearly broke down and died.

“Where is Loki?”, asked Thor once again, coming out of his room when the sun had already setted widely on the sky. No rain, a clear day, perfect for flying. The mission would start in the next three hours, and you were still waiting.

“Look, I really need to get a confirmation on whether I’m having you on the mission or not”, said Tony, losing his patience. “He’ll come back at some point, but you don’t need to worry about him. He’s a God on Earth. What would happen? He’d get mugged and stab the damn robber?”, he joked, and you pretended to laugh.

“You’re right. I’m going, count me in”.

Where was he, now?

Something was for sure, he was away.

And a week had passed. A whole week with its seven days, and you've received no notice whatsoever of your lover.

Thor seemed to know, yet he couldn't bring himself to say anything. He said it wasn't his place. He said he didn't know what Loki was thinking about. He said he didn't want to misinterpret his messages. He said a lot of things and none of them were comforting. None of them fulfilled your need to know —where is he, is he well, is he traveling, is he locked up, is he dead, is he with someone else, is he ever coming back, is he even trying to communicate—what's going on?

In the quinjet, you looked down the window. Bucky and Thor were in front of you, and Tony by your side, explaining the steps of the next mission. You weren't listening much. Just nodded. You knew those things never went as planned —having plans would usually get worse outcomes, from your experience. Plans wouldn't work.

You had one small plan; climb a mountain. You were going to a marvelous place, and you always wanted to climb them. It was completely possible you could get a few hours off, if not half a day to go and get it. You'd maybe convince your teammates.

Whatever you could do to keep your mind away from Loki's suicidal mission, whatever that may be.

"Buckle up, fellas", said Tony, getting into his suit already. "There's fighting to get through right now. We'll have to do the brainy part after".

And just like that, Thor with Mjölnir in hand, Bucky ripping off his sleeve and you getting your boots adjusted, jumped off the quinjet and landed on soft grass.

There weren't many people you had to fight. They were just very strong. You held your grip to Tony's suit as he flew with you all around the forest.

The rest… you might know how it goes. As it always does. You’re too reckless—words from everyone on the team, all the time—and you jumped off too quickly to catch Bucky’s bullet.

“Are you OUT OF YOUR MIND?”, yelled Bucky as he approached you. He applied pressure on the bullet wound and you gasped for your dear air as you felt a little dizzier and dizzier.

“You were about to get shot!”, you justified.

“I’m a supersoldier, you fucking idiot”.

“Do I look like I make rational decisions on the run?”.

“Here, as you lay on the floor bleeding out from an unnecessary bullet wound that would’ve been a fucking scratch on me? Yeah, no shit, you make great decisions on the run”.

“I thought you were shy to talk”.

“No, I just keep my mouth shut because people aren’t so stupid for me to talk back to them, but you just…”.

“Agh!”, you contorted in pain and then James decided to stop bitching about how you saved him from the hit—when he so clearly wanted to get shot instead—why would he care so much? “Could you… take me to the quinjet? There’s gotta be like a first aid kit in there or something”.

“What? You gonna put a bandaid over the bullet and call it a day? Come on, I’m taking you to the medbay”.

“No way, Buck. They’ll get me to a hospital for the day and won’t let me participate on the mission. Come on, just patch me up a little and don’t say anything”.

James rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“No”.

He took you to the medbay, and, as you predicted, you spent the night in the hospital. The whole night, and woke up the next morning in that same goddamn white bed with white sheets, surrounded by white walls and white everything. Except a dusted friend, who had been holding your hand the whole time.

Bucky, scratched from head to toe and very clearly lacking a shower and a good night of sleep, didn’t let go of your hand even when you woke up. And damn you who were only thinking about how that should be Loki by your side.

“Hey, morning sleepy head”.

“What are you doing here? You should be on the mission”, you reproached him with a smile. “Not here, being a good friend and all”.

“I wanted a day off work”.

You laughed. He seemed too tired to even move.

“Thanks”, you sighed, and looking out of the window, heard the door opening and Tony Stark walking in. “Oh, sorry boss”.

“Call me boss again and you’re fired”, he said, sitting on the foot of your bed. “You reckless, irresponsible idiot. You should be fired for this alone. You’re a danger to the team and especially to yourself”.

“Come on. I defended a member of the team”.

“You jumped in front of a supersoldier about to get a fucking mosquito bite out of a bullet, that's what you fucking did”.

“The spirit is what counts, after all?”, you tried, and he laughed shortly, only to come back with a meaner expression.

“Hell no”.

“At least I can go back to work today, right?”, you tried. Tony just laughed—that bastard. Fucking asshole. And where was Thor? Was he with his brother? No that he’d say anything.

Wow. Painkillers made you bitchy.

“We’re both taking the day to get you recovered, and Stark and Thor will handle the mission. Tomorrow you get back if you’re well rested and in enough shape, alright?”, explained Bucky with a softness that almost made you vomit. He was sugarcoating it—surrounding it with nice-sounding words and a soft-spoken voice.

“No way I came all the way here to not do shit and let you do all of the things I’m supposed to do”.

“We could climb that mountain you wanted to”, he tried, and then you were out of words. You thought about it for a few seconds.

“Okay”.

“Are you crazy? They’s got stitches. They can’t make efforts. Bed rest”, fought Tony. Bucky winked at you.

“That’s why I’m going with them. I’m gonna make sure they don’t get any worse, alright?”.

“Make sure they gets better”.

“Consider it done, chief”.

(Taglist: @lucywrites02 , @louieboo87 , @the-departed-potato , @jesuswasnotawhiteman , @idontknow296 , @beksib , @spythoschei , @geekwritersworld , @whatafuckingdumbass , @mysticunicorn7 @shadowolf993 , @joscelyn02 , @t00-pi , @selfship-mishaps , @sallymagnoliaposts , @deadgirl88 , @enderslove, @theonewiththenerds )

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imomomi · 4 years

Photo

AN: I imagine it goes a little something like this....

The moment Kiyoomi agreed to meet Suguru for drinks he had regretted it. The ex-Nohebi captain had a talent for getting him to drink far more than he expected. Every time they hung out, Kiyoomi would end up stumbling home, pink cheeked and slurring his words.

A beer bottle was pushed in front of him as Suguru flipped the sizzling pork-belly. Kiyoomi lowered the mask, thankful that they were situated in a corner booth and far from the students loitering in the middle of the restaurant. The slightly bitter aftertaste rushed in his mouth, chased down by a piece of pork belly so crisp it was almost burnt.

As much as he grumbled about Y/N’s band of misfit cheats, he didn’t mind having a break from the fame that surrounded his life as a pro-player. Suguru was never hesitant to poke fun of him or cut him down for a bad game.

“How’s the new team?” asked Suguru, in between bite of food.

“Atsumu is as much of a pig as he was in high school and Bokuto is just as loud as ever,” answered Kiyoomi. A dark look crossed Suguru’s face at the mention of Fukurōdani’s former ace forcing a laugh out of Kiyoomi.

“You shouldn’t have cheated. You might have gone to Nationals, if you hadn’t. Though, from the way Nohebi played, you wouldn’t have made it very far,” said Kiyoomi.

“Shut up. It’s not like we had a top ace on our team.”

“Which is why you should have practiced more.”

“Yeah, let’s end this right there. Hearing this from a V-1 player is just depressing.”

“I beat you in college, too.”

“You’re an arrogant bastard,” Suguru muttered.

“If you put enough effort and practice regularly and with care, anyone can be good. It’s not so much arrogance as an acknowl-“

“Okay, you need another beer and more food,” Suguru said, cutting him off. He waved down a waitress, ordering far more stuff than either of them would eat. There was an unspoken rule that Kiyoomi would pay. It was payback for the money that Y/N regularly forced Suguru to cough up as compensation for being mean to her.

“I wonder what would have happened if you guys met during our last qualifiers,” Suguru mused. Kiyoomi tilted his head in confusion.

“What?” he asked.

“Your second year. We were your opponents during the Spring Qualifiers.”

“I remember. We won in straight sets.”

“Did you really need to mention that?” Suguru grimaced, inhaling a mouthful of beer, “Y/N was injured, so we played without our manager. But, I’m pretty sure we dodged a bullet not having her there. The first time we lost, she spent an hour making fun of us afterward.”

“How did she get injured? Where? How bad was the injury?” Kiyoomi asked in a rush. Had he been paying more attention; he would have noticed the gleam that entered Suguru’s eye.

“It got hot in the gym and they were renovating the central air, so the floor was slick with sweat. You know how Y/N is, she didn’t bother looking and slipped. Broke her collarbone and was yelling at us about it for a month,” Suguru said. He grinned at the memory. Though there’d been some worrying and tears when it initially happened, the scowl that Y/N wore for weeks after the accident had been an endless source of amusement for everyone on the team.

“Open or closed fracture?” said Kiyoomi sharply. Suguru raised a brow, finger tracing the rim of his bottle.

“Don’t remember to be honest. Just ask her later.”

“What are you doing?” asked Y/N. Her feet were propped on the couch, hands steadily applying a thin layer of pink nail polish to her toes. Kiyoomi’s fingers hooked around the collar of her shirt, pulling it down slightly so he could see the sharp edge of her collar bones. Y/N inched backwards, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Ummm, can you wait until after I finish my nails?”

“I never noticed this scar,” he murmured, eyes glued to the silvery line that cut across the bone. Her brows drew together, teeth scraping her lip, as she considered her answer. Kiyoomi fixated on things at random times, like different players or an illness he’d heard about on the news. Unlike his cleaning habit---something she was endlessly thankful for after years of being told she’d make a bad housewife---his pessimism was endlessly amusing to her. In college, she’d often lied awake by his side as he hunted down videos of opposing teams and found out everything he could about their players.

“It’s almost gone, I’d be surprised if you did,” said Y/N, at last. Kiyoomi leaned back, towering over her with a scowl on his face. His brow wrinkled and she fought the urge to smooth it out.

“How often did you get injured before we met? Were you a clumsy child?”

“Not particularly, but I had trouble sitting still.”

“I thought so,” muttered Kiyoomi. He turned sharply, disappearing down the hall. Y/N watched his back in bewilderment, before turning back to her nails. Whatever it was, he’d tell her later.

She put up with it for three days. Three days of Kiyoomi spotlessly cleaning and drying the floors whenever he was home. Of him ensuring that her shoes are double knotted and tight enough to suffocate her feet whenever she left the house. Of him hovering over her whenever she gets up in the apartment. Once, he’d explicitly told her not to move from the bed when she wanted water and had rushed to kitchen to get it for her. Half of her wanted to laugh, the other half was ready to kill him.

“What happened and why am I being baby-proofed?” asked Y/N, folding her arms over her chest.

“Nothing,” mumbled Kiyoomi. His lips pursed, forming a pout as Y/N leaned over the table and took his hand into hers.

“I’m not stupid, Yoomi. Something’s wrong. What did Suguru tell you?”

“You broke your collarbone,” he said. Y/N fell back into her seat in surprise, before she started to laugh loudly. Kiyoomi’s lips twitched reluctantly, the sound fanning the embers of affection that thrummed through his body.

“You didn’t even know who I was back then and even if we did, you went to a different school?” Y/N said.

“All the more reason, we should be cautious now and prevent any injuries.”

“I don’t play sports. An injury isn’t going to end my career,” said Y/N.

“That shouldn’t prevent you from taking proper care of your health.”

“When have I ever been sick?” she asked in exasperation, “Only once in the five years we’ve known each other. If I get injured, I’ll get better. Worry about me dying when we’re old, okay?”

He nodded and turned the conversation toward Hinata’s latest attempt to push his debut up. Y/N let him, but her mind lingered on his concerns. Kiyoomi might not have been the most affection person in the world, but he cared far more than people realized. He did everything with care as if it would break in his hands if he handled it too roughly.

Later that night, they’re resting in bed. Kiyoomi was warm and bright beside her, lips tracing the scar at her collarbone. Teeth nipping at the skin.

“I hope I die before you,” he whispered.

“Don’t say stuff like that,” Y/N said sharply.

“Hmm,” he rose up on his elbow, and rested his head in the palm of his hands. His fingers traced an invisible pattern on her ribcage. “It’s true. It’d be easier not to worry, if I’m dead.”

“You’re so annoying. If you’re lucky, I’ll kill you in your sleep,” she promised

“Wait a couple years, will you? I’d like to make it to the Olympics first.”

Y/N let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head at his absurdity. She wondered briefly what he’s be like if they decided to have children. Overprotective to a fault, but unfailingly awkward when it came to voicing his affection. Blunt as baseball bat when it came to pointing out someone’s mistakes. She rested her hand over his squeezing all her fondness of him into the touch.

#Sakusa x reader #Sakusa reader #sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #Sakusa kiyoomi x reader

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anika-ann · 3 years

Text

Hell Froze Over - Pt.1

The Good (and Fast) Samaritan

Type: mini-series to a series (part 1 & part 2 & part 3 & part 4), Avenger!reader AU.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 2750

Summary: There’s a new enhanced on a scene, showing up at places of the Avengers’ fights. She’s fast. Really, really fast. And Wanda can’t read her mind.

So far, she has been helping. But surely it’s only a matter of time before she switches switch sides – otherwise she would have approached you instead of speeding away.

You had a problem. And you needed a solution.

Warnings: violence and blood, mention of multiple characters’ death (the Snap), a bit of inuendo and language… oh and extreme fluff

A/N: This part of Melting Hearts’ verse follows after everyone was brought after the Snap. The majority of the story was written after A:IW, soooo, there are no references to Endgame and there’s canon divergence. They somehow saved them all, without building a damn time machine and all that. Just run with it ;)

Previous part of the series II Story masterlist

────── ·❆· ──────

Aliens.

Why was it always aliens?

And extremely annoying ones on top of that.

They had freaking tentacles – or multiple limbs, whatever they called it. The thing was, they had four ‘arms’, which made them incredibly handful, pun definitely intended. And what was making it worse? Once you cut off one limb, two grew in its place.

More than once during the fight, in which New Yorkers were being terrorized again, you wondered if these particular creatures, aka Tentacles, had been on Earth before, possibly meeting Hydra. You couldn’t imagine the Nazis’ organization getting the inspiration for their motto anywhere else, Greek myths be damned.

Apparently, these aliens loved going after Captain America too. Then again, they generally didn’t seem to be fond of the group of superhumans standing in their way of invading this planet, so perhaps Steve was not special in that respect.

Pinning two Tentacles to a wall by spray of thick icicles, you allowed yourself to breathe in after a long time. If you were being honest, you wouldn’t mind if Tentacles were the ones whose population would stay with the half of them erased from existence by Thanos. Seriously. They were obviously dickheads.

Taking few more breaths, indulging the feeling of having time to do so, you scanned your surroundings; the fight was definitely going your way, the aliens falling one after another, but the damage to the area was immense. It was a miracle no building had collapsed yet, but you had a hunch it wouldn’t take long. Wanda was helping with removing the civilians out of the harm’s way with her mental powers, but several blocks had been hit. You hadn’t had your eyes on her for a while now.

Hearing a roar by your right, you were immediately back to the highest alert. Tentacle no.39 was not coming your way though; it went after Natasha. You sent an icicle right through the creature’s belly, killing it at instant. Nat just nodded your way and threw herself back into the fight. You did the same.

Your whole body hurt, burning with exhaustion, but you knew you had to keep going. Even when a warning pinch bit the base of your spine; you were getting really fed up with this whole fail-safe trigger, because in moments like this, you simply couldn’t allow yourself to stop fighting in order to be fine. You were supposed to push yourself to your very limits, because lives were at stake.

Unfortunately, you didn’t have a choice.

You slowed down a little, trying to stay closer to Steve who was the nearest. He must have caught up on you pulling back, because he stated fighting with more ferocity – one you weren’t sure where he got from.

You noticed he didn’t have his helmet anymore and it made you bite the bullet and throw yourself back into the fight despite knowing the pain would only grow with time and at one point, it would paralyze you. But Steve had lost his fucking helmet again and he had the armour for reason goddammit!

And then, all of sudden, the battle was over. Car alarms blared all around you, smoke rising to the sky, flames licking anything they reached; you did your best to put the fire out. It was why you didn’t notice it at first – the loud creak of metal tens feet away, but then the concrete started screaming, just like the people.

You snapped your head that way, only to see a restaurant collapsing onto itself.

With people still in it.

You acted on instinct, sending the thickest layer of ice you could summon to slow down the falling debris, seeing a flush of red energy heading the same way. You felt the crushing weight of the building almost on your shoulders.

And the very same moment, you could also see that in a blink, there were no people underneath it.

They were gone; more specifically, several feet nearby, staring as incredulously as you were. Feeling unbearable sting in your back, you allowed yourself to let go, Wanda following your example.

Unlike the civilians, you knew all too well what happened. But your eyelids felt too heavy and you were too tired to be annoyed; in fact, you were grateful, because you didn’t know how long you would have been able to hold the improvised barrier.

You mentally thanked the girl who got all the people out in what seemed like a split second.

Dark spots danced in front of your eyes, your knees getting wobbly. The world threated to sway out of its place and you knew you were about to fold like a house of cards, only to wake up seconds later. It wouldn’t be the first time.

But you didn’t hit the ground. Strong arms enwrapped you securely, pulling you to your Captain’s chest, supporting you as much as you needed. You closed your eyes and breathed through the dizziness.

“Hey, it’s okay, I got you. It’s over, you can rest. But stay with me, alright?” Steve’s voice reached you from a terrible distance, slowly getting closer as you were gradually regaining your strength. The vibrations of his words caressed your own torso and you blinked your eyes open. “There you go, Snowflake. Let’s wrap it up here, okay?”

You just nodded, looking up to his face gratefully. He gave you a small smile in acknowledgement of your wordless ‘thank you for not letting me fall’.

“She was here again,” you mumbled and Steve grimaced as he cautiously let you off his embrace.

“Yeah. I know.”

────── ·❆· ──────

You all entered the conference room slowly, some of you barely standing on your feet. It was a miracle you didn’t have to drag each other in here. After a long time of scrunching your nose at it, you reached for the energizing drink specially designed for you just like everyone else.

While no one had suffered a serious injury – serious on the Avengers’ scale, things like the cut on Steve’s forehead didn’t count –, you were all ready to just have a shower and go to bed. But no. Being an Avenger meant you couldn’t. It meant that if the work wasn’t finished, you couldn’t get rest.

You dropped into one of the comfy chairs, Steve’s body making a muffled thud as he chose the one next to you. If even Captain America was dead on his feet, things were bad.

You pushed yourself up, sitting up straight to inspect the gash on his smooth skin. It was already healing and you knew he had it treated (by you, at least), but the drying bloody line on his head just wouldn’t let you relax.

Your fingertips carefully brushed alongside it, wary of not applying any pressure. Steve smiled at you faintly.

“Snowflake, it’s okay.”

His hand caught your wrist tenderly, pulling it away.

“How did you manage to get it anyway? How did you lose your helmet again?” you questioned. He bit his lip and looked almost apologetically. Naturally, that had you frowning. “Steve-“

“He was getting too close to--- to them, alright? I admit I didn’t quite see the other three coming-“

You gritted your teeth, torn between admiring his heroics as he defended the civilians and clipping round his ear for having a tunnel-like vision and not looking around properly before jumping to the rescue.

In the end, you just huffed, letting your hand slip from his grasp.

You carefully eyed the rest of the team, glad you found Wanda mothering Vision and Bruce checking Natasha once again, while Tony, Sam and Clint were on the phone. It put a smile on your face as you saw Bucky fumbling with his phone as well – you knew he had started seeing a woman from accounting here and now he was probably wondering if he should let her know he was fine.

“We make a good team. Taking minor risks is worth it,” Steve whispered, straightening in his chair in favour of dropping a kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes contentedly at the pure and innocent display of affection.

When his lips lingered, his hand brushing your jaw and he inhaled the smell of your shampoo – if there was any smell left after the fight and debris flying around –, his breath faltering, a realization dawned to you.

He hadn’t lost his helmet when defending some civilians, had he?

Steve wouldn’t let himself to be distracted enough to be jumped when protecting civilians. Never. He only lost his focus when protecting the people he loved. Mainly the ones he had lost before, in the Snap or otherwise; if he could help it, his gaze never left you on the battlefield, simply too scared you would disappear in a blink of an eye. He might be getting less anxious about it lately, but it was always in the back of his mind; having your loved ones wiped off by a snap of fingers and seeing them fall to ashes did that to a person.

Not that you would know – you were among the ones who disappeared.

But Steve knew. He saw it happen to you, Bucky, Sam…. And he could only watch. Nothing he could do stop it. You still remembered the burn of in the base of your spine as your powers fought to freeze the process of your body disintegrating, watching in horror as many of your friends did – and that you were about to meet the same fate. Just as helpless as Steve was.

“…I’m just stalling, Steve. I know it and you know it too. I should— I should let go-“

“No! No, Snowflake, you stay and fight-“ he practically growled, gripping your wrists with enough strength to bruise them.

“I love you, Steve,” you whispered in response, feeling your whole body trembling in both exertion and fear. You didn’t want to leave. You didn’t want this to be your end.

The wild haunted look in Steve’s eye only made you shudder further, a painful twist to your gut.

“No-“

“Please, say it back,” you pleaded, swallowing your tears and the scream that was threatening to erupt from your throat. The burn, fuck, the burn… you couldn’t hold it any longer.

“NO! You fight this!”

Lips trembling, you understood you wouldn’t get the last love declaration you craved. You closed your eyes.

“Goodbye, Steve.”

“NO!” he yelled, pulling you to him, bodies aligned as he wrapped an arm around you, holding you impossibly close. “You--- sweetheart, please. I love you. I can’t-“

“Thank you,” you sobbed, breathing in his scent, feeling the coarse material of his worn uniform, revelling in the warmth of his touch… and you let go.

The last thing you heard was him, choking on a desperate shriek of your name.

The memory and the sheer wonder about what it must have been like for him almost brought tears into your eyes. Again.

Could you really be mad at him for being reckless?

“Thank you for saving me,” you whispered, hearing his breath hitch. You opened your eyes, only to see his resigned ones as he guesses you figured out the truth.

“No ‘you idiot’, huh?”

“No. Not this time. I can see you’re fine. You’re allowed to look out for me as long as you walk away relatively unharmed.”

“Lucky me,” he murmured and kissed you lightly on your lips, tasting after the sickeningly sweet energy drink. You couldn’t say you minded.

“I love you, Steve. I care for you too. Nothing wrong with that,” you hummed lovingly, gazing into his eyes, the rest of the world be damned. “So yeah. Thank you.”

His blues got their vivid spark back, the corners of his lips rising inconspicuously. “Always. And I love you too.”

“You two are sickening,” Bucky noted close to your ear and you honest to god yelped, almost falling off your chair.

Bucky receded with silent laugh and while you clutched at your chest, your heart too frantic in your ribcage, you noticed Steve rolled his eyes at his friend fondly.

“Lefty here has a point,” Tony hummed, making you huff and turn to the big screen as it lit up with news feed.

There were already so many images and videos on the internet that it was scary. Why people hunted down good shots instead of running away?

Unsurprisingly, Tony froze the frame in which a blur of dark blue could be seen. Hint: it was neither you nor Steve in his stealth suit.

No. It was the enhanced girl. The fast one. The one you knew too little about to your comfort.

“Hate to say it, but things could have got ugly without the Rush-girl rushing in,” Tony announced and you scoffed, mainly because you felt like he was nudging your conscience.

It felt like he was blaming you, seeing you wouldn’t have been able to hold the falling debris for long enough. You were sure Tony wouldn’t blame you, since he knew all too well you simply couldn’t beat it; after all he had been the one to install your fail-safe, preventing you hurting yourself. But you also knew he didn’t like the thought of anyone else getting hurt because of it either.

The thing was it always went like this with this enhanced girl. She would show up, help the Avengers and then puff, she was gone. No trace. Except for the people she saved. The ones you might have failed to save unless she had come.

You forced yourself to drift away from the dark thoughts.

“Tony, your nicknames are getting more ridiculous with each try,” you remarked, earning a few hums in agreement from around the table.

“I can go back to naming you if you want… Popsicle. I bet Cap here got the memo and he loves to lick and s-”

“Stark!” Steve lashed out at him, his cheeks getting an unhealthy shade of red. You choked on your own spit.

You were pretty happy with Tony somewhat reconciling with Steve (and you and others), okay, but his jokes were sometimes too much. He really was pushing it.

“Go to hell, Metalbrain,” you muttered under your breath, feeling your ears burning.

Also, yes. Yes, Steve got the memo. So did you. But you didn’t need to talk about it in front of everyone, thank you very much.

“Cute blush you have here. I hit the nail on the head, eh?” Tony continued, earning a murderous glare from Steve, who certainly was sporting a remarkable blush.

“Tony!” you called out, not less horrified than your significant other.

“Trust the advice of the elder – biologically older anyway. Hate to break it to you, but that’s not how you make a kid. Then again maybe that’s the point-“

“Tony, shut your metal mouth or I swear to god I will tell Pepper you’re being a pervert.”

A look of pure horror appeared on his face and you couldn’t help but smile smugly. This always worked.

The thing was Tony would know how to get a girl pregnant; Pepper Potts lived to tell the tale. She was in her twenty-seventh week, after all; and her hormones were misbehaving. Big time. Her emotions were like on a roller-coaster lately and no one with a shred of brain wanted to be on her bad side, ever, let alone now.

Needless to mention Pepper Potts was a strong woman, capable of handling herself, being in control. She wasn’t quite in control of herself now and what was even worse, she always had been the more rational part of the Stark and Potts-Stark duo, keeping Tony’s impulsiveness in check. Once again, not now. And it was driving her insane.

So yeah, threatening Tony with snitching him to Pepper always worked these days. It was even mean of you. Then again, Tony was being extremely pervert today, venting his frustration on you and you did not like it at all.

“Ouch. Low blow, Popsicle, low blow,” Tony said darkly, before his expression turned gleeful again. “See what I did there with the blow--- never mind, I have a place to be. Bye, kids!”

Tony took his abrupt escape, disappearing from the room, and you sighed heavily. You massaged the bridge of your nose, feeling your face burning with embarrassment. The rest of the team pretended not to watch you highly amused.

“He’s an actual infant— no, he’s worse,” you stated, your voice a little too high-pitched.

“That’s hardly any news. Now, can we pay attention to the actual problem?” Natasha interjected, switching back to professional mood.

“Sure. Let’s talk more about the Rush-girl,” Clint hummed, a smirk on his lips.

A collective groan was the answer, but you did start working.

────── ·❆· ──────

Part 2

────── ·❆· ──────

There we go!

The first chapter of the last part of Melting Hearts. Hopefully, I will make it worth it your attention ;)

Thank you for reading! Happy Sunday :-*

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #captain america x reader #captain america x you #mcu #marvel #avenger reader #avangers fanfiction #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers imagine #captain america imagine #avengers #melting hearts series #melting hearts #hell froze over #anika ann

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mrvdocks · 4 years

Text

Nightcall P.2

Summary: Kurt is obsessive over a model and kidnaps her, taking her along for the ride of the night. P.2

You feel the tiredness behind your eyes when they flutter open, your chest rises and falls slowly as you take in your surroundings. You were home. It was close to six now, but some light still came in through your shades and illuminated your living room sunset orange.

You sit up in confusion, was the whole Spree a dream? More like a nightmare.

Your head is killing you, almost as if there’s a jackhammer in your skull.

You rub at your eyes tiredly, standing up too quick and needing to balance yourself on the arm of the couch you were just laying on.

The apartment’s empty, save for some background noise coming from your laptop.

That’s odd, you didn’t remember leaving your laptop on.

Your vision blurs for a moment but sharpens on the image in front of you. The chat in the live stream is going nuts with all sorts of comments ranging from “when are we going to see some gory shit?” to “bring back Bobby!”

That’s when you realize the person on the live stream is you.

The comments change to asking you if all of this is real and if Kurt is coming back.

Your eyes widen as you read his name.

That’s when you hear him.

“Oh good, you’re awake. I was starting to get scared that I used too much of the stuff.”

You don’t know how much tensing your body can take. You put the screen down, meeting a smiling Kurt who’s dressed in Bobby’s clothes. You know it’s his because of the sponsors you helped him get.

You grab at the nearest thing on the table, brandishing a leftover metal fork at him.

It merely amuses him as he puts your hand down with ease and takes the fork away.

“Come on, did you really think I was going to hurt you? You, of all people? I have no reason to do that.”

“You’ve done worse for less,” you shudder, glancing behind you to find a way out.

“You’re not in any danger with me. You’re safe, okay?” He takes small steps towards you, hands out in a gesture to relax you.

It doesn’t work, it only makes you more nervous. For every step he takes forward, you take one back.

“I bet you’re hungry.” He says, disappearing into your kitchen.

You take this chance to run into your room, remembering there was a landline you never paid attention to there. Maybe you could get out of this still.

Much to your dismay, the line’s been cut by Kurt anyway.

“I didn’t want us to be interrupted.” He says, bringing in his concoction of food.

You don’t have the strength in you to fight and your stomach grumbles at the sight of the food. He holds it out in front of you, waiting.

You stare at it, trying to figure out if anything’s wrong with it.

“I didn’t poison it or anything if that’s what you’re worried about.”

When you don’t believe him, he takes a bite out of the sandwich and scarfs it down immediately. Nothing happens.

You take it from him slowly and bite at it before completely devouring it whole.

“Good. You’re going to need energy for later.” He leaves you alone to go back into the living room.

You don’t understand what he means until you hear something drag against your floors. He reappears in your bedroom dragging the body of the same man from the earlier Spree.

You instantly feel sick to your stomach, the food you just ate reaching your throat as you gag at the smell.

You shudder lowly, feeling your shoulders shake and your chest heave as you clasp your hand over your mouth in an attempt to calm yourself.

The dead body in front of you was very much freaking you the fuck out and you didn’t know whether to scream or to cry about your situation.

Kurt makes quick work of the man’s possessions, pocketing them to probably discard them later.

“People are just so rude,” He says. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Kurt killing someone for demeaning you is something you didn’t see coming. Then again, you didn’t really see yourself being kidnapped on the list of things that would happen this week.

“This makes you worse than Bobby. No, worse than anyone.”

You don’t know where the sudden fuel to comment on his actions came, you were still scared but somehow it came barreling out.

He stops what he’s doing, looking at you in disappointment.

He really couldn’t expect you to go along with this, could he?

“Bobby and I are different, you know that. This is different.”

You didn’t know him.

“So what? You don’t like how the world treated you so you just do whatever you like? Murder as you please?”

He doesn’t argue back, he doesn’t need to. You’re right.

“I’m not just doing this for myself.” He rubs at his temple.

“Kurt,” you muster enough courage to look him dead straight in the eyes. “Do not do this and say that it’s for me. I won’t hesitate -”

“To leave? Go ahead, you’ve had all this time.”

He renders you speechless. He was right, you could’ve easily overpowered him with anything in the room. But if he was so infatuated with you the right thing would’ve been to let you go without consequence.

“You said you trusted me.” He murmurs.

“You ran a fucking light and now you’re a serial killer! It doesn’t apply to both!”

“I’m - I’m not the bad guy here!” He huffs incredulously, as if everything he did wasn’t affecting him psychologically the way it was you. “If anything, I’m doing the world a favor! These are scum of the earth people!”

He calms down. “They get it.”

He points presumably to the laptop mere feet away from you both. The sounds of the stream popped up one after the other.

“Really? Because as far as everybody’s concerned, they all think this is some kind of fucked up joke!”

“Let them believe what they want to believe. They’re finally watching me!”

It doesn’t matter to him that they’re insulting him in the comments, or that he killed someone he considered a friend.

“So everyone has an expiration date for you.” You conclude.

He was only going to use people up. That should’ve been common sense. You don’t understand why that fact made you feel a little dejected. You wish he could revert back to the Kurt you met.

“Do I have an expiration date?”

“No.” He assures. “But if this is going to work I need you to be okay with this.”

“I’m not.”

Fighting him was futile. You were forced into it. You wanted so desperately to warn these people and get the word out. But that's also what he would've wanted. He wanted you to give him exposure. The officer still thinks you did it all willingly, but the footage was more than enough to help you get off with a few repercussions.

You wish you could forget the screams of the people in the car, a thousand washes with soap couldn’t get rid of the blood on your hands. Even if some of them really were assholes, shouldn’t they have also had a chance at redemption?

With each spree, Kurt only was egged on by the audience and those that found the livestream later. Many of them called for you to do something equally as horrifying but you couldn’t. Many suggested for him to get rid of you since you were being ‘boring’. He wouldn’t do it.

And that’s when he set his sights on Jessie. After promptly kidnapping her and trying to convince her to join him to no avail, he takes both of you back to his house. You had enough. You wanted a way out and Jessie was it. You just didn’t know everything would end so bloody.

There’s an ensuing fight, she strangles Kurt with the phone charger and knocks you back in an attempt to stop it. The back of your head collides with the passenger window harshly, forcing you to screech in pain.

Kurt doesn’t take it well.

She swindles Kurt, taking the gun he kept in the glove compartment and arming herself with it. This wasn’t how you wanted it to go. You just wanted her to scare him enough to turn himself in.

But the crazed look in her eye suggested that wasn’t happening.

The final battle takes place at his home. Where all his dirty secrets are let out.

“I’ll shoot you both if you don’t move!”

You keep your hands up, shielding Kurt with your body.

“Jessie please, let’s think about this.”

“And let him get away with all of this? He’s brainwashed you already.”

“He hasn’t - listen he won’t get away with this. Jessie please, give me the gun.”

She wavers, the barrel pointed directly at you. Your heart is beating so fast you almost think you’ll die from a heart attack before the bullet even reaches you.

“No! No, this has to end. He’s fucking crazy, can’t you see that??! This was always going to end with one of us dead anyway, and it’s not going to be me.” She points behind you and almost pulls the trigger but is stopped by you lunging at her.

“No!” You yell.

You tackle her onto the floor, the back of her head bouncing off the leg of the pool table and knocking her unconscious.

You press your index finger against her neck, feeling her pulse. You sigh in relief.

“Why didn’t you let her do it?” Kurt asks suddenly.

“She was going to kill you. I don’t know how I’d feel about that.”

Kurt had no problem having these people on his conscience, but you did. Maybe killing him would be good, but him facing justice for what he did would be better. He could atone for all of this.

“Even after what I did to you?”

You don’t answer and instead prop Jessie against the wall. You were honestly very sorry for it but you were optimistic about the outcome of all of this.

Kurt bends to your level and takes you into his arms, squeezing you tight.

“We did it!” He celebrates prematurely, Jesse’s not even dead but it doesn’t matter to him. He thinks you’re on his side, that’s more than enough.

You smile nervously, his forehead touching yours in what he believes is a tender moment.

“What are you going to do to her?” You’re afraid of the answer.

Kurt’s mood shifts immediately, serious now.

“I have to get rid of her now obviously. If she won’t join us then there’s no point to her.”

His quick response is enough for you to discard all hope that he would walk away from this. You grip the gun in your right hand, sure that he hasn’t seen it.

“This is going to be great! We’re going to be even bigger than all these assholes. And you can finally be by my side, as it should be.”

Your blood runs cold. He’s a dead man walking at this point.

You say fuck it as you abandon all morals. With the free hand you have, you bring it to the nape of his neck and press your lips against his. He’s so distracted by it that he doesn’t feel the front of the gun pressed against his abdomen.

It’s only when you feel your finger pull back the trigger that the shot startles you both and he opens his eyes to looks at you in shock.

You unload another shot into him. He crawls away from you and applies pressure onto his wound, howling in pain.

He looks at you again, hurt and confusion clear on his face. He reaches for you, calling for you in between coughing fits and cries of pain.

You empty the last bullet into his shoulder, sending him backward.

There’s a ringing in your ear that drowns out the sirens in the distance. You don’t know who managed to call them but you’re thankful to end this nightmare. You’re still holding the gun out but it only takes you a second to realize you’re screaming. Absolute guttural and gut-wrenching wailing.

When they arrive, the paramedics have to sedate you to calm you down. Jessie is taken in the ambulance while an officer tries to get you out of the house while you’re still conscious. Kurt’s body lays limp in a pool of red, his hand still reaching and glazed eyes staring back at you.

It haunts you.

“People like Kurt needed a partner. We believe he was targeting Ms. Adams previously before his attention turned to you. Do you know why that is?”

You lie. “No.”

It’s easy to say you never knew his intentions. They were spur of the moment decisions. Everything was chance. You can't explain yourself or Kurt’s psyche to her, there’s no easy way to do it.

She sighs. “Listen, whatever good you think you saw in him, whatever ramble about the real world you think you understood - was never there.”

Her words should make you feel better, comfort you in the fact that you developing some sort of twisted attachment with your kidnapper wasn’t your fault. You don’t know how to feel, you just feel...empty.

“It doesn’t matter now.” You shrug.

“You said Kurt told you something before he died. What was it?”

You let your heavy eyes close in exhaustion. You don’t remember why you told them that, but it must’ve slipped out in questioning.

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember.”

Unsure if she believes you or not but knowing there’s nothing else to keep you here, she dismisses you. You trudge out of the interrogation room and out of the station into the cold. You don’t bother with ordering a ride, it’s been ruined for you.

Instead you walk it home, feeling yourself go into autopilot. You think you see his face in every driver that passes you.

You’re sure you look catatonic to people but you don’t care. You just want to rest.

As soon as you’re home you slip into the bathroom, turn on the shower until it’s steaming and let everything out.

In the weeks that follow, you and Jessie are thrown into the stratosphere of fame. While she’s more content with her newfound trajectory and takes advantage of it, you decline every interview and prying noses that ask you to explain your relationship with Kurt. It’s all part of their circle jerk of tragedy, milking the victims for information and glamour.

Kurt’s regarded as a loser by those who are saner than he was and a god by those on the internet. You’re not entirely surprised.

You think it’s all over when months pass without incident until one day your friends send you a link to something on Reddit, which you don’t think twice about.

You regret it as soon as you see Kurt’s face in the thumbnail. Someone took all the footage from that night and was going to broadcast it later to show off their own documentary.

You don’t use social media anymore.

#spree #kurt kunkle x reader #kurt kunkle #well here it is

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not-reagan · 3 years

Text

milf: man i love forests

pairing: deforester boo seungkwan x frat boy mirror demon han jisung (side pairing reagan x rainbow)

genre: crack, strangers to friends to lovers, non-idol au

warnings: cursing, brief supernatural elements, i don’t know if this applies but all lcase, and i listened to christmas music and abba while writing this

word count: 2.7k

authors note: happy birthday @miyuuraiura !! i am so sorry about this monstrosity being your birthday gift but you asked for it so it's your fault entirely. i was gonna include some context on this story for those who are not rainbow and i but actually i don't think i will.

seungkwan did what he could to get by. he loved nature, he really did, but sometimes you have to make moral sacrifices to survive. he was a college kid strapped for cash, and when he saw a sign reading “GET RICH QUICK, INVEST IN DEFORESTATION” in the summer going into his freshmen year, he jumped at the opportunity. sure, he would have rather been a freelance singer, hired for bar-mitzvahs and children's parties, but that job market was flooded at the moment.

jisung, on the other hand, had no care for nature. actually, he didn't care for any human things, apart from “banging parties, booze, the boys™, and bitches”. he hated quite a bit about earth, the worst of all to him being college. as a demon, he had no reason to attend university, but after he was summoned in the bathroom of a frat house by the school’s power couple; rainbow and reagan, he felt obliged to follow the two around and keep them company.

for seungkwan, his main job rarely required in person work. he usually just chose plots of land to demolish, and sent plans to local managers. the only time he actually had to knock down any trees himself was during his summer break. he has a part time job of course, but it didn't provide him enough cash to survive. for someone with a job as a deforester, he truly did do what he could to save the environment. he joined his schools environmental club, becoming vice president his sophomore year because of his work with them. he kept his job a secret, not even telling his parents where the influx of cash was coming from. he kept a low profile and went through the motions of life. he didn't have much of a social life, with his small amount of friends being from the environmental club.

han jisung found joy in witnessing his professors and fellow students lose their minds over his lack of effort in class. he did the bare minimum and still passed with flying colors. most of all, it angered his seatmate in earth science, who happened to be none other than boo seungkwan. seungkwan was a hard worker in everything he did, particularly in school. he didn't get the best grades, but by no means was he the worst. averaging a steady B+, seungkwan spent most of his nights studying or working, rarely going to parties and enjoying himself only through one person karaoke rooms.

this fact upset jisung. he didn't know why, but seeing seungkwan so tired every day made him feel sad(? jisung wasn't sure what it made him feel. it was an emotion he had never experienced before. rainbow told him it meant he had a crush. to this he threw an empty soda can at them). not to mention seungkwan’s upsetting karaoke addiction, which he knew all about the danger of because of reagan, who spent most of her weekends drunk and singing. jisung didn’t know why he took such a liking to seungkwan. what he did know was that he was ecstatic to find that they would be paired together for a project. a project that required quite a bit of teamwork, and a lot of after school work sessions.

seungkwan liked to think that he didn’t hate anyone. he hated evil people, like hitler and stalin and jyp, but he didn’t really hate anyone besides the worst of the worst. that was until he experienced jisung. he wasn’t sure why jisung always talked to him when he was trying to take notes in class. he especially wasn’t sure why he was so excited to be partnered up together for the project that was worth 25% of their grade. seungkwan was less than happy to have to cooperate with jisung for an extended period of time, and he was not looking forward to letting him into his dorm room, or going anywhere near jisung’s frat house. seungkwan had no idea what he was pushed into.

they planned to meet at the cafe on campus at 5:00 pm after class. seungkwan was less than happy. jisung was thrilled. when jisung arrived seungkwan was sitting at a table drinking an americano and working on an english essay. he wasn't sure how to approach him, slowly walked closer before tapping on his shoulder. seungkwan jolted in his seat.

“jesus fuck jisung. you scared the crap out of me,” seungkwan gasped. jisung’s ears flushed as he brought his hand to the back if his neck.

“sorry,” he started, pausing for a second before starting again, “why don't we get started?”. he swung his bag down to the ground as he took a seat. seungkwan offered a small, non genuine smile before pulling out the project’s guidelines.

“let's try to finish this as quickly as possible. im pretty busy and don't have much time to fool around.” seungkwan said. jisung felt his heart drop. did seungkwan really think that little of him? granted, he always dozed off in class but he got his work done on time and in an orderly fashion. he felt his mind begin to wander. if seungkwan felt this way about him now, how would he feel when he found out that jisung was a demon. would seungkwan start to like him if he knew him better? jisung couldn't figure out why he cared so much about how seungkwan perceived him. he had never had an issue with others opinions of him before, so what made seungkwan so different? for some reason, jisung felt the need to connect with seungkwan. if not for himself, then at least to help him let loose.

after working silently on each of their portions of the projects for 3 hours, jisung finally spoke up. “do you want to maybe come to my party next month? well, it's not my party, it's for rainbow’s birthday. i know you're not one for social interaction but it would be cool to see you there. i’ll give you the details if-”

“i’d love to go,” seungkwan cut off jisung’s rambling. to be honest, he wasn't exactly sure what he was agreeing to, but he knew it would shut jisung up, and seungkwan valued his peace and quiet. part of him also just felt downright bad for the other. he seemed to be trying awfully hard to become friends with seungkwan, and he wouldn’t admit it, seungkwan had started to warm up to the boy. he really wasn’t as much of an issue as he had thought before, and was actually really respectful of seungkwan’s wishes. maybe i’ll give him a chance, seungkwan thought before going back to his work.

over the next month, jisung and seungkwan continued meeting to work on their project. seungkwan was less short with the other, and jisung was still red faced every time seungkwan decided to talk to him, which became quite frequently over the next few weeks. jisung was starting to realize that the feelings he had for seungkwan were not simply platonic, and that he didn’t just want to be friends with him. with the help of rainbow and reagan, he had come to the conclusion that he really, really liked seungkwan, and that he was going to do something about it. remembering that he had invited seungkwan to the party, he devised a plan to not only tell seungkwan about his whole “i’m actually a demon” thing, but also about his true feelings. it wouldn't be easy, but it was what he had to do.

a month later, seungkwan still wasn’t exactly sure why he had agreed to go to jisungs frat house at 9:00 pm on a saturday night. yet there he was, standing on the front porch of a large house, wondering if he should bite the bullet and walk in, or spare himself and leave right then. he didn't get a choice, however, as rainbow and reagan stepped out of the house giggling while clutching onto each other. both stopped in their tracks when they saw seungkwan. the couple and seungkwan stared at each other for a good minute before seungkwan shook himself from his trance.

“hey rainbow!” seungkwan started, “and reagan too. i know we aren’t super close, but jisung invited me and i thought i’d just drop by and wish you a happy birthday.” he passed her a birthday card filled with $50 bucks and then turned to leave. “i’ll leave you guys now. have a great birthday!” before seungkwan could get very far, however, rainbow grabbed him by the arm.

“hey, i’d love if you’d stay! at least go say hi to jisung. i’m sure he’d like to see you,” she said, silently making note to have jisung pay her back for being a great wingwoman.

“he’s probably hiding in the second floor bathroom. if you don't see him in there, just say his name three times in front of the mirror. he’ll appear.” reagan explained. seungkwan thought she was joking. how wrong he was.

following his entrance to the house, he had to refuse not one, not two, but three different people who were looking to give him bottles or cups of something which seungkwan presumed to be various types of alcohol. navigating through the house was difficult, reaching the stairs to the second floor only after running into numerous people borderline fucking on two large couches in the living room, a smoke circle taking place in what seungkwan assumed to be a dining room, and a very aggressive makeout session against a wall. once he finally reached the second floor, he had some difficulty finding the bathroom, accidentally walking in on reagan and rainbow, who had miraculously made it upstairs faster than he had.

“if you don’t stop shitting constantly i am going to break up with you! also, stop taking feet pics! it’s weird!” he heard rainbow shout.

“at least i can eat seafood! how does it make your head hurt? you’re the weakest link! that fucking seafood platter was delicious. and you know what, i’m glad i didn’t have to share it with you!” reagan responded. seungkwan quickly shut the door, not wanting to get involved in whatever drunken argument was going on there. after a bit more searching, he finally stumbled across the right room. knocking first to see if anyone was in there, he entered, and to his surprise, nobody was there. jisung was nowhere to be seen. seungkwan reviewed his options. he could a) leave the party, or b) continue to look around the packed house. but there was another option. he thought about it for a second.

“what's the harm in trying,” seungkwan thought out loud, before staring directly into the mirror.

“han jisung, han jisung, han jisung.”

nothing happened. that's what seungkwan thought, until a minute later the lights in the bathroom flickered off and the mirror began to glow. “what. the. fuck,” seungkwan managed to squeak out before falling backwards into the tub. first a leg emerged, then two arms, and finally the rest of jisung’s body.

“i feel like the genie in aladin every time i have to get into a fucking mirror,” jisung complained before seeing seungkwan toppled over. to that view, he jumped down off the counter and moved to help him up. seungkwan, aside from falling, seemed to be reacting well to the whole situation, at least in the sense that instead of freaking out he seemed to be in a state of shock. jisung took this as a good sign, and lifted the motionless body up onto the toilet seat.

“hey seungkwan, you there?” jisung waved his hand in front of seungkwan's face as he slowly came to his senses.

“what kind of twisted party trick was that?” seungkwan asked, pretty seriously. jisung just laughed.

“you summoned me from the mirror. i’m like a funny version of michael jackson except i'm a demon and not a man in the mirror.” jisung explained. seungkwan just stared. “are you ok kwan? do you want me to get you some water?”

“it was… kind of sick.” seungkwan stated. he didn't know why he wasn't scared. under any other circumstance like this one, he probably would have shit his pants. for some reason he felt comfortable around jisung. he felt warm. he felt seen. it was something he hadn't felt before. that's when he realized. he wondered why it took himself to long to figure it out. he never hated jisung. he just didn't know what to do with the fact that he made him feel special, and that he felt as though he belonged when they were together. it had hit him why he was so nervous the whole night, why he had wanted to make such a good impression, and why he was willing to embarrass himself by calling out jisungs name as opposed to just choosing to go home. it was because he loved him.

“can i tell you something?” both of the boys said at the same time. jisung giggled and seungkwan flushed red. **authors note! bonus starts here**

“you first,” seungkwan offered. he wasn't exactly sure he would be able to make it through a sentence without getting any redder than he already was.

jisung took this opportunity to finally get his true feelings out into the air, “i like you… uhh like, i like like you. i have since we first became seatmates. well, i think that's when i've liked you since. i knew whe-”

“you're rambling again,” seungkwan told him. jisung flushed a dark shade of pink. “it's a habit of yours. i think it's cute actually.” seungkwan wasn't sure where his sudden surge of confidence came from, but he was glad it came. he was standing up now, holding jisungs hands in his. jisungs heart was racing a mile a minute as he looked down at their intertwined hands and them back up, catching seungkwan looking directly at his lips. “can… can i kiss you?” seungkwan stuttered out. jisung couldn't find his words, so he opted to just nod.

when their lips connected, seungkwan could have sworn he heard fireworks. he did later find out that someone was setting off a firework in the back yard, but it was the thought that counted. their lips melted together perfectly, and seungkwan wondered why it took him so long to admit his feelings to himself. he could have been kissing jisung for a month before this.

once they finally parted, seungkwan spoke softly, “i like you too. i think that's pretty obvious now but just in case you didn't know.” jisung had the dumbest, most confused face on, and seungkwan had the brightest smile he'd ever had. seungkwan had rendered jisung speechless, for once in his life. not long after, they started kissing again, content with their emotions and their new relationship.

seungkwan was never one to believe that good things were permanent. he was overdramatic, stubborn, and hated interacting with people outside his small social circle. that was until han jisung came along. he was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, he could let someone else into his life.

jisung was a simple man. well, not a man, but he was simple nonetheless. he liked banging parties, booze, the boys™, and bitches. well maybe there was one more thing he liked. he knew for sure he liked boo seungkwan. maybe he loved him. maybe seungkwan even felt the same way.

-fin

**BONUS**

reagan and rainbow leaned up against the door to eavesdrop on their matchmaking work.

“holy shit!” reagan gasped.

“what is it?? tell me what happened. you're hogging up the door!” rainbow hissed.

“our boy is so grown up,” reagan pretended to cry. “put your goddamn ear up here.” rainbow felt her ear connect with the cold door just as jisung confessed his feelings.

“i like you… uhh like, i like like you. i have since we first became seatmates. well, i think that's when i've liked you since. i knew whe-” his next words were cut off on the girls side of the door as reagan squealed.

“shut your mouth! seungkwans saying something!!” rainbow said, obviously annoyed that reagan was obstructing her ability to hear the exchange.

“can… can i kiss you?” they heard seungkwan say. both looked at each other in shock.

“oh. my. god.” was all rainbow could say.

“i think we should give them some alone time,” reagan suggested as she tugged rainbow down the hall.

“i think we need some alone time for ourselves,” rainbow said as reagan pushed her into a random room and locked the door behind them.

#kpop #seventeen #stray kids #svt #skz #fanfic #guys i am so sorry #seungkwan #jisung #boo seungkwan #han #han jisung #a birthday gift #miyuuraiura #for you 💕#han jisung x boo seungkwan #jisung x seungkwan #han x seungkwan

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royallyprincesslilly · 3 years

Text

Title: Hibiscus Kisses {2}

Chris Evans x OFC Ajali Rambaue AU {Ah-Jah-Lee, Ram-Bow}

Warning: Plot Heavy, Mild Cursing, Mild Slow Burn

Words: 4.9k

Summary: Ajali decides on a rash decision to go on a Disney cruise, not for her love of Disney, but because she needs time to figure things out after things get even more complicated in her complicated life. She only expected peace, quiet, tropical drinks, and an overabundance of Disney songs. What she got was more than she bargained for when the cruise of a lifetime on the brand new ship Enchantment turned into a nightmare. The only saving grace is that she’s not the only one living through the nightmare. Can Ajali survive the test of a lifetime and the dangers ahead of her, and better yet, will she finally be able to live a little?

Note: Hey, hey, hey, guys! So here we are trying something different/new. I hope you enjoy this. 🤞🏽 Please feel free to tell me what you think. I’m super excited to explore this one with you all. 🤗

As always, thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG! ❤️❤️

I appreciate each and every one of your guys’ support and love!

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

**Interactive**

**Slightly Pic Heavy**

Previous Chapters: 1 |

Anyone who got up and at em’ on the first day of vacation had something to prove, and you hated them. You had nothing to prove, so you kept your ass in your room and utilized the “to cabin” service. You don’t know if it was the sound of the waves from the balcony, the lull of the ship as it pushed through the water, you being physically exhausted, or if it was your emotional exhaustion that did you in. Whatever it was, you slept until it was damn near dinner time. Even then, leaving your room was not an option.

So you called for a meal to be brought to you, snuggled into the covers, and watched the available tv channels. Not wanting to watch any movies, you decided on a channel that seemed to be a mix of the animal planet, discovery channel, and a survivalist’s dream. The program that was on was something about figuring out the difference between good food and bad food. Things like this you found interesting and always watched. It wasn’t that you planned on ever needing the information but why the hell wouldn’t you be prepared for a never possibility.

When the food arrived, you were well into another program about common dangers on Caribbean islands that tourists would never know. Once you accepted the three reusable food bags, you buried yourself right back into the bed and surrounded yourself with everything you’d requested. You bet whoever prepared it thought it was for at least three people, but nope it was all yours. Vacation was about overindulging, right?

A few hours later, your phone rang. Knowing your sister’s ringtone, you answered without looking at the ID.

“You know better than not to send a message to mom before you disappear, Lulu.”

“Disappear? Lali, I am on a huge ass ship. Where am I disappearing to?”

“You know what I mean. You know if she hasn’t heard from you, then that’s just as good as disappearing,” Atali countered.

Sighing, you rubbed your forehead. Your mother was a bit much sometimes.

“I slept in.”

“All day?”

“All day,” you repeated.

“Alone?”

Kissing your teeth, you rolled your eyes and leaned back on the headboard.

“Lali, you do know it’s me you’re talking to, right?”

Atali giggled. “It is a vacation; excuse me for thinking you’d live a little.”

“There is living a little and living recklessly,” you dryly responded.

“Recklessly? Lulu, you’re the one who is sleeping with--.”

You loudly cleared your throat, interrupting what you knew she was going to say. Atali was always good for bringing up everything you wanted to forget.

“Jeez, Atali.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

You put another piece of cake into your mouth and moaned, savoring the strawberry and the smoothness of the cheesecake. You bit your bottom lip, and for some reason, your mind ran to the stranger you still had yet to get the name of.

“Met anyone on board?”

“Lali, I didn’t come here to meet anyone.”

“I know, but you still could have—in passing.”

You sighed and went over the details of his face. You really didn’t like men with that much facial hair, but it fit him well and easily made him look younger than he quite possibly was.

“What’s his name?”

“I don’t know his name, and he doesn’t matter. I did meet a woman.”

“Woman? You’ve been gone a day and already experimenting?”

You smiled and shook your head. “Shut up. Listen, she’s really cool. Her stories are classic, and she does her makeup like a goddess. You would like her, Lali.”

“She’s an older woman, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, so what?”

“You always attract these old-young souls.”

The two of you giggled together, but it went on for longer than just a few seconds. When you sighed out and leaned back against the headboard, you again thought of him.

“What’s your first port?”

“Dominican Republic, then Turks & Caicos, the British Virgin Islands after that then Aruba and Jamaica.”

“Jeez, you’re living life,” Atali commented.

“You have no idea. You should see this ship. They went all out times two with it. It’s just absolute luxury everywhere. I said pick me a ship. I didn’t say give me the Cleopatra treatment.”

“You knew what you were getting into when you asked me to do it,” Atali replied. “By the way, isn’t BVI and Turks and Caicos pretty close to Bermuda?”

Taking a moment to think about it, you responded, “Yeah. So?”

“So? Lulu, Bermuda,” Atali repeated.

When you didn’t speak immediately, she continued. “The Bermuda Triangle, dummy.”

Kissing your teeth, you rolled your eyes, “Oh god, you cannot be serious.”

“I am. Have you never heard that ships get lost and disappear in that area?”

“Lali, I’m sure there is a scientific explanation, and I am also sure that no one would charter a course near somewhere that they’d get lost, especially with hundreds of passengers,” you finished, confidant in your response.

The two of you talked for almost an hour before she was urging you to get out of your room and go to one of the clubs on the ship. You protested, but you knew she would not shut up about it, so you gave in though you had no interest in actually going. You spent the next hour going back and forth with your options. Most of you wanted to stay in bed or sit on the balcony and just get lost in the view, while the other knew that you’d only think of Javii if you did that.

Following a shower, you scanned your clothes. Once you found a cute dress, then applied a lite layer of makeup and did your hair, choosing to leave it down rather than putting it in a cute bun. Five or ten minutes later, you were standing in front of the entrance to one of the clubs—Jewel. The music from inside was lively, and you could imagine the number of young bodies pressing against each other, seeking a cheap thrill. Glancing from left to right, you decided to bite the bullet.

As soon as you stepped inside, you didn’t feel like you were on a ship in the middle of the ocean. It felt like it was a well established nightclub on solid ground. Whoever the DJ was, they were doing their thing, and it was evident from the bodies that littered the floor. It looked like this was where the parents came when their kids were tucked away in bed cuddling Tiana and Jasmine close. You walked through the crowds and saw plenty of couples making out and sharing drinks. Never again would you think to sleep on a Disney cruise. You thought it would be a chill time, but damn this was like parents gone wild.

After a few minutes of walking around and scoping things out, you found a place at one of the three bars.

“First Disney cruise?”

Snapping your head around, you looked at a smiling bartender with long hair that was piled on top of his head in a neat man bun.

“That obvious?”

“Let me guess, you expected tame, princess sing-a-longs, virgin pina coladas, and plenty of mickey mouse.”

The look on your face must have given you away because he was laughing a few seconds after he said it. You snorted and shook your head as you rearranged your dress and recrossed your legs.

“Fine, you got me.”

“It’s okay. I get how you’d think it was a tame little adventure. Why do you think we get so many reservations?”

“I thought it was for the kids,” you blurted out. It was his turn to laugh.

“Silly rabbit, while Disney is for kids, what happens after those kids lay their pretty little heads is a whole other story.”

Glancing around once more, you made a mental note never to make the mistake again. Disney cruises were probably as raunchy as Carnival or those geared toward singles. At that thought, you began to wonder how many swingers were on board, and if this was a swinger’s playground.

“What can I get you?”

“Something strong so my innocent mind can adjust.”

The bartender chuckled to himself as he walked around, preparing your drink. You bopped to the music and looked around again. Now it made sense to you when the mom of two who was preggo with her third said these cruises always gave her just what she needed. You bet they did—three fucking kids. Your mind was blown.

When the bartender slid your drink to you, he smiled and slipped away to serve the others. That was when you turned back around to people watch. There was no way you were going to dance with any of them. after a few sips of your drink, you saw him across the way. He was sitting at one of the other bars watching the dancefloor as you were. His hat was gone, and it showed you that his hair was long. The lights were too dim to make out much else, but what you couldn’t make out, you quickly filled in from your other encounter.

Before you realized your glass was empty, your eyes met and lingered on each other for several long moments. The only reason you looked away was because of the passing people who got in the way. When you looked back, his eyes weren’t on yours anymore, they were looking lower, but it was unclear if he was looking at you or someone on the dancefloor. Shaking it off, you spun around and requested another drink.

As you waited, you scrolled through your phone and did your best to fight the urge to check his social media. Javii wasn’t huge on social media. He preferred to have his team handle his brand's social side, but he did have a secret one that not many knew about. There he posted things that interested him, showed his lifestyle and his passions. It was also where he posted his “thirst traps.” You knew that if you went on, you’d find one or two, and you knew the caption was going to be code for you. You doubted you were mentally prepared enough for that psychological minefield.

“What can I get you, sir?”

“Another beer, please.”

The deep voice beside you had your finger pausing before you tapped the circle with Javii’s picture that indicated he’d made a new story. When you looked next to you there, he was again. The dim and colored lights in the room gave you a new appreciation of his eyes. It was at this moment you knew he got a lot of attention from women. With eyes like those, how could he not? He looked at you and smiled, and that sold it for you. His teeth were perfect, and though his smile made the wrinkles at the sides of his eyes more prominent, it also made his face light up. He looked like a kind man--a gentle one perhaps.

“Either you’re following me around, or we’d call this fate.”

You couldn’t help but smile. The cocky on him was so strong. It was a familiar cocky.

“Or you’re following me around. You’re the one who bumped into me twice,” you countered.

“Eh, I was the one doing the catching, so it’s more feasible that you’re following me.”

He wore a soft grin, one that you mirrored.

“Maybe if you weren’t like a brick wall, you wouldn’t have to catch me.”

“I’m not complaining,” he responded. You stared at him and quickly got his meaning. Again, you couldn’t help but smile. Not only was he cocky, but he was charming, you thought.

You finished your drink with one raise of your hand. When you lowered your glass, you watched as he raked his fingers through his hair, bringing it full out of his face. It was then you recognized him.

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Now I know where I’ve seen you from.”

He looked confused. “Now? You didn’t know this whole time?”

“No. You looked familiar, but I couldn’t place you.”

The look on his face was a lite one. He softly scoffed and raised his bottle to his head, and took a few gulps of his beer. When he lowered it, he spoke again.

“That’s refreshing. I’m not used to people not recognizing me.”

“That must suck. I couldn’t imagine living my life under suck a microscope,” you said without thinking. When you realized what you’d said, you glanced at him and tried to backtrack.

“Uh—what I mean is--.”

He smiled and shook his head. “It’s okay. I know what you mean. I’m Chris,” he replied, holding out his hand to you. When you touched his hand, you were surprised by how soft they were. He’d never used them for manual labor a day in his life, you thought.

“Ajali,” you responded.

“Aja—li, he slowly repeated, trying to mirror how you said it.

“Yes.”

“Wow, that’s a beautiful name, very unique,” Chris noted.

“Thank you.”

“What do your friends call you, Aja?”

You looked at him after raising your hand to the bartender, signaling you’d like another.

“Why? Are we friends?”

Chris smiled and dipped his head down, making his hair fall into his face. He looked good with long hair and this grizzly beard combo. Again, he raked his fingers through his hair before he looked at you.

“We can be. We can be good friends if you like.”

Searching his eyes, you tried to find evidence in there to match the flirtatious tone of his voice.

“What if my husband isn’t into that?”

Chris smiled and turned his body to you. “You don’t have a husband. From the first time we bumped into each other, I noticed you’re not wearing a wedding ring, nor do you have any tan lines to signify you’re hiding one.”

Raising your eyebrow, you allowed his words to sink in. “I could have--,” you began.

“—Kids? Nah, you were alone the first time outside and again on the deck when I passed you and the night in the dining room and even at the show.”

He’d been watching you.

“No, I’m not stalking you, I promise,” Chris quickly spoke up. “Plus, even if you had kids, it wouldn’t matter. I like kids—they like me.”

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments. When you got your drink, you took a long sip.

“So you’re alone here on this family Disney cruise. That alone deserves a question,” Chris continued.

“It does. You’re also alone on this same family Disney cruise,” you countered. Chris nodded and took another sip of his beer before he leaned closer to you.

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” he whispered.

There was no way you were going to divulge personal information to a stranger, no matter if he were Captain America. You spun to face him, then uncrossed your legs to recross them. His eyes dropped to your thighs, and that told you what you needed to know. He was on this cruise for hookups. Scoffing, you finished your drink.

“Your eyes just told me yours.” You slipped off the barstool and stood before him, leaning in just a little. “I hear Disney cruises are the place to be for after dark entanglements, and you’re in the right place. Have a good night.”

You walked away, not giving him a chance to respond. Instead of moving to another bar, you decided to leave. You’d heard plenty of rumors and stories of Chris Evans and his booty calls, and you were not impressed. He was clearly here for easy, strings free sex. You’d heard more than you needed to about how he met his hook up buddies and just not was textbook. You were not here to be another notch in his bedpost.

-The Next Day-

-The Dominican Republic, 11:10 am

As you walked through the ship, everyone was abuzz with excitement for the first port. You were also excited but not to disembark like everyone else. You’d been to the Dominican Republic plenty of times and had no intention of going out today. You had a plan, and it was to soak up the quiet and empty ship. You wanted to get a spa treatment, a massage, and soak in the hot tub or the steam room and allow the essential oils to work their magic on the tension coursing through your body.

“Attention passengers, we are officially docked. I’d like to be the first to welcome you to the beautiful Dominican Republic. As you disembark, a reminder that we will be leaving port promptly at ten o'clock. Please be on time, ladies and gentlemen, and enjoy your days.”

While everyone was walking in one direction, you were walking in the opposite. Everyone was decked out in their beachwear and sunscreen, and you could tell these kids planned on swimming every inch of that beach. The ride on the elevator was a quick one because you were going lower than everyone else. The spa was on the first level below water. The pamphlet advertised it as being one with the sea thanks to the unmatched view of the ocean and life under the sea. You were excited.

Once you got to the spa entrance, you smiled, seeing that it was completely empty.

“Welcome to Aqua Spa. My name is Vikki.”

“Hi. Am I the only one?”

“You are the first here. Between you and me, I don’t expect many guests being the first port and all,” the blond wearing a sea blue uniform said.

“Excellent.”

“Have you reserved?”

“Yes, Ajali Rambaue.”

You watched her scan the computer screen before her. It didn’t take her long to smile again.

“Ms. Rambaue, welcome. I see you’ve booked the clearing treatment, a gold facial followed by the milk and rose oil bath,” Nikki listed.

Just her listing off your treats had you even more excited. Nodding, you confirmed. She returned your smile and ushered you through the spa. You could already see the blue hue from the portholes, and it bathed the entire spa in the same blue. It felt as if you were gliding underwater, completely immersed with the other creatures.

“Right this way.” You followed her into the room and gasped. The entire room was completely blue, and the sight before you through the clear window was breathtaking.

“Incredible, isn’t it? I guess you can see why they named her Enchantment.”

Maybe Lali’s splurge wasn’t so bad, you thought.

“So, the clearing treatment is an intricate one. You can change behind this screen as I prepare the room for you and your therapist,” Nikki explained.

You stepped behind the glass screen that immediately frosted once you were behind it, then began undressing and listened to her explain the treatment.

“Not only is it an incredible treatment, but it stretches to about three hours from start to finish. World-renowned masseuses and acupuncturist Jadenna Sole designed it. He aimed for it to restore the body’s balance. It does this through a mixture of Eastern and European techniques.”

When you stepped out, you were wrapped in the towel and sighed, seeing the newly lit candles that warmed the room. If you were doing a couple’s massage, this would have been the perfect atmosphere.

“It begins with a full-body exfoliation with sea salt and Indian Kama oil. After your therapist will perform a lymph system massage, and that will prep the body for your Swedish massage. After that, then your body will be wrapped in neem black clay, and you’ll sit and allow it to seep into your pores. Then you’ll rinse and sit in your milk and rose oil bath to then rinse again, and the finishing touch would be an intricate blend of oils and herbs rubbed into your skin that will help your chakras realign,” Nikki finished.

You were impressed as hell. You’d never expect a treatment like this on a cruise. It was more something for Manhattan among the rich. As you got comfortable on the table, you could hardly contain your excitement. When your massage therapist arrived and introduced herself as Marta, you prepared yourself to be shot into space. Massages were your thing. Lali joked that massages were your love language.

When Marta began the exfoliation process, it was relaxing enough for you to nearly fall asleep. You hadn’t realized how tense you were these last few days. You blamed Javii. It was all his fault. After twenty or so minutes, Marta rinsed you then really got started with the massage, all the while putting her back into it. She was a lot stronger than she looked. The pressure was perfect, and the scents from the oils were sublime. In no time, you were drifting from the ground into the sky.

After an hour, your mind was completely blank, and the knot between your shoulder blades was nearly gone. Marta made a few comments on how tense your muscles were and gave pointers on how to prevent locked muscles. You listened as she spoke and tried to retain the information, but you were too distracted with how relaxed you felt. By the time two hours had passed, your muscles were putty, and Marta was now on your gold facial.

This wasn’t the first time you’d gotten one. You and Lali often got them together as part of your sisters day. They were good for your complexion and elasticity. Your mother often stressed that collagen loved you when you were young but liked to play hide and seek the older you got and that you should cherish it and do all you could to maintain your healthy skin. You and Lali listened. After Marta finished applying the mask, you laid back and listened to the sounds of the classical music playing and drifted off to sleep.

When you awoke, it was time to wipe the concoction off and dip into your milk and rose oil bath. The warmth of the mixture had you moaning. There was something so luxurious about lounging in milk like you were an Egyptian queen that had you feeling like a boss. The mask that was applied to your hair was slowly hardening, so you fought the urge to dip your head back. Instead, you leaned back onto the cushions and sighed again.

The silence in the room was just what you needed. Any stress you’d been feeling was a distant memory now. This was just what you needed, you thought.

“Who knew milk and rose oil could be so relaxing.”

Your eyes snapped open as you looked from side to side, trying to see if someone was beside you. The tub pods were empty, and from what you could see, you were alone.

“I’m glad I took Nikki’s recommendation for this over the peppermint soak,” the voice spoke again. You recognized it. Spinning around, you saw a bare back behind yours. He was close enough to touch.

Chris turned around to face you. His face was painted with a mask, only keeping his eyes and lips visible. You quickly forgot your state of undress, but you somehow knew of his. Your eyes dipped down to his bare shoulders and the hair that laid across his chest. You saw a peek of two and a possible third tattoo, and your curiosity piqued.

“Fancy seeing you here, Ajali,” Chris said as his eyes dropped lower. You looked lower on yourself to see your breasts almost out of the milk enough for him to see some nipple. Quickly you sunk down and turned back around, facing your back to him.

“What’re you doing here?”

“Same as you.” You sighed and hugged your legs to your body.

“Shouldn’t they have men in a separate room or something?”

“I’ve seen a naked woman before,” Chris informed with a scoff. You turned around from the tone of his voice.

“I bet you have. You’ve seen plenty naked women.”

Chris turned to face you with his brows knitted together as if he fully got your meaning.

“Just what are you insinuating?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does. Are you suggesting that I came on this cruise to sleep with unassuming women?”

You shrugged and turned back around, keeping your back straight.

“Wow, that’s insulting. Where do you get off?”

You remained quiet. He must have taken your silence as more judgment because he spoke again.

“I didn’t come on this cruise to snake myself into someone’s bed. I came because I needed a change of pace, some breathing room. Hollywood gets confining, and the more confining it gets, the more I feel like I’m—suffocating.”

Slowly you turned to look at him. His back was turned so you trailed your eyes over the exposed skin of his back and saw peeks of more tattoos. The man was getting sexier with each passing minute. His shoulders were broad and looked incredibly strong. The low light in the room didn’t help you see anything else, but you could more than imagine everything else.

“So, the confines of a ship wouldn’t feel suffocating?”

Chris turned to look at you.

“There is Hollywood confinement and this. This is not confinement. I have freedom here; I’m not watched like a hawk. Yeah, someone will recognize me here or there, but they are so respectful. For the most part, it is always quick. Plus, I don’t mind talking to the kids.”

This was the second time he brought up kids, you thought.

“Plus, now I’ve met someone who seems to have no problem telling me I’m a whore.”

Immediately you snorted loudly then laughed. “I never called you that.”

“Hinted at it is just the same as saying the words,” Chris accused.

You smiled and sighed, and your eyes lingered on his.

“It’s refreshing again. A lot of women will say what they think I want to hear or be how they think I want them to be.

“Not me.”

“Not you.”

It was said in unison. Once both of you realized what you’d said, you laughed together.

“It must be something having women fawn all over you.”

Chris shrugged, and again your eyes fell to his shoulders, and that is where they remained.

“Something is the word. It gets old, though—real quick.”

When your eyes met again, he held your gaze. “I’m sure men fawn all over you too.”

You took a deep breath and sighed out. “I’m sure they don’t.”

Chris snorted and gave you a “yeah right” look.

“I’m sure you’re full of shit. You’re a beautiful woman.” His eyes dropped below your face again, but they quickly came back up.

You turned your back to him again and stared into the milk and oil concoction. He wasn’t wrong, though he wasn’t right either. Men didn’t fawn over you. Yeah, you got attention from men a lot but to go as far as saying they fawned over you was a stretch. You didn’t notice any man besides Javii for the last three years.

“This is supposed to be a relaxing spa day for me. Maybe we should cut the talking out and just enjoy the rest of it,” you suggested, a little salty he’d reminded you of what you’d come to forget.

“Sure thing,” Chris softly answered.

The two of you remained in your separate bath pods without speaking one more word. However, you were aware of his body and every move he made. His body gave off this energy that felt like your body reached out for. So instead of fully relaxing, you’d spent the time fighting the sway of your body or the urge to slink closer.

An hour later, you were in your clothes again and feeling ten times better than when you’d walked in. You thanked the staff and gave a generous tip, then left. When you got into the elevator, you leaned on the wall and sighed. As the doors closed, a hand stretched out, preventing it from closing. Chris then stepped onto the elevator with that stupid grin.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” he joked as he pressed the six that was already lit up.

“Is six your floor too?”

“Maybe.” He nodded and leaned on the wall beside you.

The two of you rode the elevator and looked outside the glass enclosure to the ship and even the ocean outside.

“They did a fantastic job with the ship. Even though you’re not on an island right now, you feel like it’s still a tropical vacation.”

You nodded, agreeing with him.

“Do you come on Disney cruises often?”

You shook your head. “No. This is a first.”

Chris lit up and smiled widely. “Wow. It’s been a while since I’ve met a first-timer.”

“I take it you’re not.”

“Nope, veteran. I come on a cruise at least once a year and go to Disneyworld and land twice a year,” Chris excitedly bragged.

“Oh, a little boy trapped in a grown man’s body,” you teased.

Chris chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Eh, nothing wrong with being a little boy.”

“Only if you aren’t that way because you refuse to grow up,” you responded. Chris looked at you and kept his eyes there. The ding of the elevator brought your attention back to the dial.

“Six.”

You walked out the door, then turned left and proceeded to your room, wondering the whole way if that was a bitch thing to say. You had to learn to censor, you thought as you scanned your wrist and stepped into your room. Peeping back, you saw Chris still walking to his room with his head dipped low as if he’d lost his best friend.

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

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#hibiscus kisses fic #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #black fanfiction

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avengerscompound · 4 years

Text

The Surrogate - Chapter 4

The Surrogate: A Clintasha Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Word Count: 1813

Rating: E

Warnings: Blood and Serious Injures, talk of past miscarriage and red room fuckery.

Synopsis: A freak end of the world incident leads to meeting your two best friends, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff. While your friendship with the two Avengers is anything but conventional, they are your all-time favorite people. When you find out that Clint and Natasha want to start a family but have exhausted all their options, you realize your powerset might allow you to give them what they want. Having your best friends’ baby might seem like a good idea on paper, but when you are as close as you, Clint, and Natasha are, will doing something so intimate mean feelings get a little mixed up?

Chapter 4

“We could use a healer over here!”

Clint’s voice had come over comms, and you looked around the area trying to figure out where ‘here’ actually was. You eventually spotted both him and Natasha with a group of children, sheltering under a bridge.

You took a quick looked around, and ran out from your hiding spot, vaulting over a stone fence as you charged in the direction of Clint and Natasha. Gunfire immediately broke out and you caught a bullet in the side. It slowed you for a moment as a hot pain flared out and then died back off. By the time you reached Natasha and Clint, the only sign that you had been shot at all was a hole in your catsuit and some already drying blood.

“Think this might be above your abilities,” Natasha said. She was cradling a young boy, and when you moved closer she moved her hand showing you where their leg now had broken exposed bone.

“Fuck,” you cursed, crouching down.

“She said a bad word,” a very young girl said.

“She sure did. And right now you all have special Avengers’ permission to say as many bad words as you know,” Clint said, as he loosed a couple of arrows. “Ready… set… go.”

The group of children all broke out into random cursing and you looked at Natasha. “I’m gonna try blood. Pray to Thor that we match. Can you get that bone back into alignment?”

Natasha nodded. “Okay, malysh,” Natasha soothed and took one of her lives out of its leather holsters. “This is going to hurt a lot. But I need you to be very brave for me and hold as still as you can. And when we’re done, we’ll make sure you get home safe with your family. I promise.”

He nodded weakly and she held the leather holster to his lips. “Bite down on this, little one.”

The boy bit down into the leather and Natasha quickly snapped the bones back into place with a loud and gut turning crack. The boy screamed into the holster and passed out. You took the knife that the holster homed and cut open your arm.

You had been part of the Avengers for over three years now. One mission had turned into many and you had gone from being a new recruit to a full-fledged agent. You settled into life at the compound and the memory of a time where you were scared and didn’t know exactly how you could use your powers to help people.

You had friends and a routine and you dated on and off and when you were off you would hook up with Natasha and Clint because they were just that little bit too hard to resist. Especially when you’d just gone through a breakup. You considered them your best friends and you loved their relationship dynamic. They were hilarious together and their way of showing affection was so perfectly them.

Most of your missions were with one or the other or both. The closeness had made you be able to work like a well-oiled machine together, being able to predict each other’s patterns and counter each other. This particular mission was a big one though. A small town in the Midwest had been attacked by domestic terrorists and the whole team had been sent out to stop it.

As your blood mixed with the boy’s, nothing seemed to happen. You cursed the stupid limitations of your powers and you were just about to let your own wound close back up when you noticed the bones and flesh knitting back together on the boy’s leg. You had to keep twisting the knife in your own wound to keep the blood flowing and your hand was beginning to shake from the pain. As the wound closed you let go of the knife and your own cut rapidly healed. Color returned to his skin and his eyes fluttered open.

“Thank Thor,” Clint sighed. He turned back to look at the kids like he was planning what the next move should be and there was a crack from a bolt of lightning behind him, making him jump

“You can save the thanks for when I have actually helped,” Thor teased, playfully. “Come, your extraction has arrived.”

A huge armored vehicle pulled up at the bridge and the side opened. Clint ran to the side of the truck and began loosing arrows out past it, creative cover.

“Come, little ones,” Natasha said. “Onto the truck.”

You and she herded the children into the vehicle, carrying the injured boy into the back and putting him on a stretcher. When you were all safe inside, Clint climbed in and pulled the door closed behind him.

“Hold tight,” the agent driving called back. Clint sat down on one of the benches as the truck took off much faster than you expected.

“How close are we to being done with this?” You asked as a little girl climbed up into Clint’s lap and clung to him. He wrapped an arm around her and held her steady as the truck bounced over the rough terrain.

“Captain Rogers is mounting an assault on the last remaining group now. Shouldn’t be much longer,” the agent called back. “You were the last group that had been cornered by them.”

“Thank god,” you sighed and let your head fall back against the wall of the truck. You immediately regretted it, as it banged against metal.

You sat back up and watched Clint with the little girl. She had calmed down and was gradually drifting off to sleep against him.

“Clint looks really good with kids,” you whispered to Nat.

She nodded. “Yeah, he’s a natural with them. I think because he is basically a giant child.”

You snorted and bumped her with your shoulder. “You were good with them too. You guys gonna have kids someday?”

Natasha frowned. “Can’t,” she said, trying to keep her voice neutral, but the slight strain giving away her pain. “We want to. But… the Red Room did something to me. Having children creates weakness, so they sterilized me. But… not… I mean… I have been pregnant but it ended up in a late-term miscarriage.”

“I’m so sorry, Natasha,” you said. If it was anyone else you would have wrapped your arms around them and let them be weak. Natasha would rather stab herself in the eye than let that happen though, so instead, you leaned against her a little, hoping that your weight might be comforting and allow her to be strong. “Have you ever considered adoption? Or surrogacy?”

She nodded. “Surrogacy is out, it’s something about the genes. They have a self destruct in them. We applied to adopt but were told in no uncertain terms that no one is allowing an ex Russian-assassin adopt a child.”

“That fucking sucks,” you said, not quite sure what else you could say. It did fucking suck and you wished there was something you could do. You weren’t used to hearing that crack of pain in her voice. It was akin to seeing Wanda in actual tears.

Natasha laughed softly. “Yeah. It does. I’d love to be a mother. But I guess for me, that isn’t to be. I have escaped what the Red Room did to me. I’ve tried making up for it. I send money to the families of my victims. I save people. But they will always have this over me.” She sighed and looked over at Clint. “He says he’s okay with it. I know that he would never complain about missing out, but I hate that my past has taken this from him too. When he called me to tell me he met a healer that day when he met you, I got a little excited. I thought… I hoped maybe you could undo what they did to me. But that’s not how your powers work.”

You shook your head. “I’m sorry.”

She rubbed your thigh. “Not your fault. You didn’t do this to me. They did,” she said. “Just have to accept that maybe after everything I did, I have to just be happy with the ending I get. I am lucky I have him. It’s enough.”

You couldn’t stop thinking about the things Natasha had said on the way back to base, through the cleanup, on the ride home, and through the entire debrief. Your powers couldn’t help fix what had happened to her. Even if you gave her a full blood transfusion they couldn’t fix something that had been done to her so long ago. You needed an exchange of fluids and it to be fresh.

Normally a surrogate wouldn’t work because whatever they’d done kicked in late on in the pregnancy due to genes. But if you were the one that was pregnant, the issue wouldn’t be old, your powers would be here, correcting mistakes and potential health issues before they happened, and as far as fluids, they’d be soaking in them, and sharing your blood supply. You didn’t know for sure if it would work, but the more you thought about it the more you were sure it would.

You thought about what it would be like having a baby for someone else. It took a special kind of person to agree to put their body through that for almost a year and then to give that baby up. It wasn’t for everyone and it would be hard, both physically and emotionally. Clint and Natasha were your best friends and you might be the only chance they had to have kids together. If you could give them that, you wanted to try.

After the debrief, everyone scattered to their rooms or apartments to sleep it off. You couldn’t turn your mind off and so after half an hour of pacing your room, you went to Natasha and Clint’s apartment and knocked on the door.

Clint answered the door and looked you up and down, grinning. “You didn’t get enough of us this week?” He teased.

“I just… I wanted to…” You shook your head and took a deep breath.

“No offense, dorogáya,” Natasha said, coming over to the door. “It’s been a long week and Clint and I just want to have some couple-time.”

“Right, yeah. I’ll leave you to it,” you said, tapping your hands nervously on your thighs. “I just… I wanted to say…” You took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. “Let me do it.”

“Let you do what?” Clint said, putting his arm around your shoulder. “Babe, what’s wrong? You’re so worked up.”

Your eyes flicked between Clint and Natasha. You didn’t know why you were so nervous. This was a nice offer. If they said no then they said no. “Natasha,” you said. “Nat. Let me carry your baby.”

// NEXT

#clint barton #natasha romanoff #clint barton x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #clint barton x natasha romanoff x reader #clint barton x natasha romanoff #clintasha x reader #clintasha #hawkeye #black widow #hawkeye fanfic #black widow fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #pregnancy #the surrogate

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wintersxani · 4 years

Text

𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖| Anakin x reader

Warning(s): Smut, language

A/n: I kind of made it so Anakin goes on the mission with her, but I hope you like it <3

Word count: 2196

Anakin Skywalker. Usually he was tolerable, but he was making it nearly impossible to even try now. All he cared about was himself and his stupid reputation; going on about being the Chosen One as if anyone cared.

Clearly, the council could tell that you despised everything about him, so they figured it would be a good idea to pair the two of you in a mission to Hoth, tracking down some rising Bounty Hunter.

This was unforgivable- the last thing you wanted to do was be sent for a couple weeks alone with Anakin on a snowy planet; having to put up with him constantly going on about himself.

To you, this sounded like your personal hell- but there was no backing out of this. You wanted your reputation to be higher than it was, you were never offered to go on missions; not once. This was your shot to prove yourself, but of course there’s always going to be cons along with the pros.

You bit your tongue as Master Windu finished speaking, clearly they were waiting on you to speak. “Thank you Masters.” You announced among all, including Anakin although he wasn’t anywhere near being a Master. Glaring at him, you exit the room and head to your quarters.

Slumping down on your bed, you hesitate at the thought of packing. Instead, you decide to just take a nap- you needed to sleep the frustration and stress off.

You were awoken to the sound of banging on your door. Jumping out of bed, you put your robe around you and opened the door with a wave. To your surprise, Anakin was outside your room. You were confused on why he was outside your room; you two haven’t even spoken before- at least not a time you could remember.

“Anakin? What are you doing?” You asked in a groggy voice after being disturbed. “Are you kidding? What are you doing? We need to go now!” He says frustrated. “What do you mean? It’s only dinner-” You say before turning to look at your clock, displaying the time. You slept the entire evening and night.

“Shit! I need to pack!” You abruptly say, rushing over to your clothes as he follows you in. Pulling off robes from different hangers, you fold them quickly, placing them into your box shaped suitcase; grabbing extra pants and wraps.

“Here, let me take that.” He says, offering a hand. “I can carry it Skywalker. It’s not going to break my arm.” You say boldly. “Seriously. I can take it.” He says. “If you insist.” You say, tossing it over to him; catching him off guard.

You realize you need to change, but your doors already closed, and it would be awkward to just walk over and tell him to get out, so you just stand firm. “I um, need to change so..” You say, removing your robe. “Maybe a little privacy would be nice?” You ask. “Oh- of course.” He says, turning around.

You pull down your pants, folding them and neatly placing them inside a basket, followed by the wrap around your chest, unraveling it as quickly as you can. It falls to the ground, as Anakin clears his throat, grabbing your attention.

He wasn’t looking or anything, so you didn’t think much of it. You grab a new wrap and enfold your breasts in it, adding a tank top over it. This time, you turn around to pull off your underwear, you didn’t like the thought that he could turn and see more than you were willing to show.

You place them in the basket along with the wrap, putting on a new pair of underwear and pants. “Okay.” You say, allowing him to turn around. You walk towards him, waving your hand to open the door as you face each other- pushing his shoulder with yours. Your eyes follow his, which glide down your body. As you walk out the door, you realize that there was a mirror facing you; which Anakin had probably been looking at the entire time.

You surprisingly weren’t embarrassed, and him clearing his throat made more sense. You put on a show, and from the looks of it; he enjoyed it. He wasn’t too far behind you as you boarded the ship. Plopping down in the passenger seat, he sets himself in the pilots. “Look, I know you haven’t done anything like this before in the 19 years that you’ve been here, so just follow my lead. I know what I’m doing and I don’t need you screwing anything up.” He says.

“Excuse me? I haven’t got any opportunities because you’ve hogged them all up with your arrogance.” You raise your voice. “Please sweetheart, if they wanted you, they would’ve asked.” He says.

Your blood begins to boil, but you know that you need to be the better person. “Just fly the ship asshole.” You say, standing up and heading to the back of the ship to sit.

You could sense that you had landed as the ship vibrated, and stopped in motion. The doors to the cabin swoosh open revealing Anakin. “Get your gear on, we’re here. It’s going to be cold as a bitch out there.” You follow his instructions by putting another layer of pants on, and a fur coat overtop. The two of you exit the ship with your things, entering the base set up there. He wasn’t kidding when he said it was cold, you were already shivering.

“General Skywalker.” A clone greets at the large metal doors; “Y/l/n.” You nod in return and the large doors open, authorizing for you two to enter. You both enter the room you would be staying in with two separate beds. “This is going to be fun.” You mumble sarcastically at the sight of having to share a room with him.

“What?” He asks, glaring at you. “Here I thought having a one on one mission with you was terrible- but I was wrong. Turns out having to share a bedroom with you is!” You say uncharacteristically. “Give me a break y/n, you’re probably the worst companion I’ve-”

“General Skywalker! He’s here!” A clone shouts from outside the room. You two look to eachother before darting out of the room to see what the clones were rambling about. Gun shots were being fired, signaling for you and Skywalker to pull out your lightsabers.

You both leaped towards the man, taking your chances. Both of you were on each side of the thin man, who was very good with his blasters. Sweeping his leg at you, he knocks you to the ground, causing you to harshly hit your head. As you try to get up, one shot is fired into your shoulder, the next into your leg.

You couldn’t even move, but when you tried, a singeing pain runs through your body. Eventually, the blasting stops, followed by the humming of Anakin’s lightsaber dispersing.

Footsteps near, and you hear Anakin’s heavy breathing. “I got you, you’re going to be fine.” He says, putting your arm around his shoulders as you hopped to your room.

Setting you down on the bed, you feel dizzy by hitting your head so violently. “Hey, stay awake-” He says, snapping in your face. He runs over to his bag and pulls out a kit; setting it beside you. Pulling up a stool, he sits in front of you, asking you were you got hit. You point to your leg as your other hand holds onto your wounded shoulder.

“I need you to take off your shirt- That’s the only way I can get to the wound.” He says shyly. You nod, but it hurts too much to move your arm. “I need help.” You admit. He nods and lifts your arm as you wince, unzipping the fur coat and pulling it off your shoulders; down your arms. His touch soothes you as he grabs the ends of your tank top pulling it over your head.

The wrap covering your breasts starts to fall, but you grab it before it can. You look down in embarrassment; but it’s nothing he hasn’t recently seen before. Taking out tweezers, he places his hand on your shoulder. His touch gives you longing; you’ve been neglected of attention and touch- it’s all you’ve wanted.

“This is going to hurt.” He says calmly, sticking the tweezers into your wound. You purse your lips at the pain, feeling him dig around for the bullet. He pulls it out within a few seconds, followed by a wave of relief.

He reaches back into the kit, pulling out liquids and bandages. “This might sting- I’m sorry.” He says. “Nothing you can control. You don’t need to apologize Anakin. I should be thanking you.” You say as he applies liquid to a cotton pad, dabbing it on your wound. You make eye contact for a split second before both of you look away. Lastly, he puts a bandage over top, concealing it.

“One down, one to go.” He says. “Here.” You say, standing up. As you tower over him, he makes his way up your body slowly with his eyes. You pull down your heavy layer of pants with one hand as the other assists your wrap, pushing them to the side. “Since the pants are already damaged, you can just rip them.” You say as you sit back down. “If you insist.” He says smirking, ripping them with ease.

You take deep breaths in and out as he removes the remaining bullet and dabs on the stinging liquid, which soon disperses with the bandage being applied. “All done, unless you slipped up somewhere else.” He says, making sure the bandage is on.

“I might’ve..” you say, capturing his attention. He slowly looks up to you, and the moment the two of you lock eyes, you know exactly what you wanted to do. “here..” You say, removing your hand from the wraps enveloping your breasts. It unravels itself, falling to your waist. His eyes remove themselves from yours as they fall to your chest, examining them thoroughly before returning back.

He moves your hair behind your ear before enveloping his lips with yours, climbing on top of you. “You’re really good at putting on shows, you know that?” He says, gliding his hands up your waist and grasping your breasts. You softly moan as his lips move to your neck, leaving bite marks and hickeys.

His hands sliver themselves down to the hem of your pants, pulling them down and off, tossing them off the bed. He quickly moves down on you, kissing the insides of your thighs, knocking the kit off the bed, he looks up to you, locking his eyes with yours as he digs in.

Your legs push themselves apart as you throw your head back in pleasure, moaning endlessly. You were taken aback at the thought that you were going to have sex with the person you had despised 5 minutes ago, but somehow your feelings completely changed.

You were enjoying this thoroughly- the way he twirled his tongue; sideways, up and down, in circles; especially when he’s suck. You couldn’t contain yourself, your hands were gripping onto his head and pillows, arching your back constantly. As you were nearing, he stopped, leaving you sexually frustrated.

“Don’t worry, this’ll feel much better.” He says, sticking a metal finger inside of you, followed by another. Pumping them in and out, he curled them to your liking, hitting your G-spot directly. He added his thumb to you clit, swirling it around as you had to cover your mouth.

“F-fuck!” You said as you reached your climax, shaking as he continued to play around with you. “A-an-na-k-kin!” You said through jitters, trying to squirm from his grip; his strength beating you.

He lets go of you, and the tension drops, leaving you jolting here and there from over stimulation. “We’re not done yet.” He growls, moving to the edge of the bed, pulling you with him. Flipping you around, He sets you on your hands and knees, wiping the pre-cum off of his member, pumping it a few times.

“Hope you’re ready for this.” He says, grabbing onto you hips as he inserts his member inside of you, pulling and pushing you to his liking. He groans at the pleasure as you reach behind you to grab his hand, placing it on your head to hold it on the bed.

You bite on to the sheets at the feeling, your eyes constantly rolling to the back of you head in sheer pleasure. “You feel so good baby-” He moans, holding your head down. “Fuck I’m going to come-” He says, picking up the pace.

Moans continue to come from both of you, before he finally pulls out and cums. He falls on his own bed, trying to catch his breath. “You really should be thanking me, shouldn’t you?” He says, smirking.

“Not a chance Skywalker.” You say, biting your lip while looking at him lustfully. “Guess we’ll have to keep trying until you do.”

➺ Masterlist | 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

#anakin #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker smut #anakin smut #starwars #star wars #star wars anakin #star wars fanfiction #star wars imagine #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader

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midnight-lightning · 4 years

Text

Of fanboys and soldiers

Summary: A mission goes horribly wrong and now Bucky’s life is in your hands

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warning: blood, mention of surgery, Angst, Fluff

"Look, who I found outside!" Natasha was walking into the kitchen, beside her a slightly nervous grinning Peter Parker, who's eyes strangely wandered off and on like he was searching for something. "Hello, Miss - erm Y/N," he stuttered, giving you a shy smile, then he seemed trying to find a position to stand in, not wanting to appear awkward- which he managed without real success. This boy was just adorable. You tried your best to hide your amusement behind a polite smile and rather pointed at the table you were sitting at, inviting him to join you. Maybe some company would be nice. "Want a pancake?" Peter's eyes brightened up for a second when he saw all the food in front of him, pancakes, fruits, yoghurts, fresh bread... everything that was needed to feed the stomachs of several avengers who lived in this - Tony's - house or at least all of them who were at home at this time. "Oh, no, no I probably shouldn't," he declined while he bashfully scratched the back of his head. "Kid, you're family. Now sit down and eat," you insisted and Peter - obviously touched by being called family - tentatively decided to join you at the breakfast table. Meanwhile Natasha- who had watched this scenario with obvious entertainment- pushed herself off the frame of the door and walked out. "Enjoy your meal, kids!" Kids? Excuse me? You leaned back in your seat to see her properly in the hallway before you shouted dryly, "We will! So sad you can't join us!" Poor Nat had to set out for a meeting together with Tony; it involved something about politics, Avengers something like that. Boring stuff. But the second she turned her head back to you, you flipped your chair straight again to avoid receiving any ... not very nice things. Or very hard things. And Nat could aim. Too good. On the other side of the table you noticed that Peter suddenly seemed more relaxed and less nervous now. He still hadn't touched any food, though. You squeezed your eyes in suspicion. "Peter Parker, are YOU nervous because of Natasha?" Poor boy didn't have to say anything, his shocked face and slightly reddened cheeks told everything. "Me? No, of course not! I mean... she's a little ... intimidating. You know what I mean? N-Not in a mean way but- sorry," he stuttered looking down on his plate. "Why are you laughing?" Immediately you stopped, not wanting to hurt his feelings or anything, nor to get blustered over by Tony afterwards for insulting his son. Besides you really didn't wanna see him uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, Kid. It's just - never mind." You watched him taking a big bite of his chocolate pancake and then humming in enjoyment. Speaking of Tony... "You know your Da- ugh Tony isn't here today, right?"

You made a face. It had already been so common within you Avengers that Tony and him were practically considered father and son that some slippers like that happened sometimes. Though you knew Tony had stopped bothering after a time, you didn't know how Peter would react to hear your inside nicknames for them. Whether he noticed or not he didn't show it, instead Peter lowered his third pancake and looked again kind of embarrassed. "I was - erm actually hoping I would see Bucky."

You lift a brow in surprise. "Bucky?" Have they ever even really met? But nonetheless he and Steve were on a mission in Canada right now and will not return in the next days. "Yeah, I feel like I need to apologize to him. You know for what happened at the airport." Oh. Yes. There they certainly did meet. Your heart swelled up at his statement and you realized there couldn't be any purer angel on earth than him. "Oh, Pete," you sighted. "You really do have a heart of gold, you know that? But I'm sure he never took offense at any of this,” you reassured him. "You see, he was rather shocked at how young you had been." "Wait, he has actually talked about me?" Peter seemed genuinely shocked about it, after literally being Tony's secret ace up his sleeve and kicking their asses all the way. He was seriously surprised people talked about him.

"Ohmygodthatssocool!" He chattered and you let out an amused laugh at his enthusiasm. We've found a fan boy!

If only Buck could hear this right now; See that there are so many people out there who cherished and admired him. People beside you and his best friends.

"Like the winter soldier! Or no, I shouldn't call him like that, he’s more like the white wolf! Bucky Barnes! I would literally-" "QUICK! WE NEED HELP!" Peter's speech was abruptly interrupted by loud voices coming from the entrance.

Alarmed you immediately stormed out of the kitchen, leaving knocked over chairs and dishes behind. You didn’t feel the need to be careful right now because it had been clearly Steve’s voice shouting for help, who shouldn’t have been here for another two days. Unless something had utterly gone wrong. The first thing you noticed, was the huge amount of blood covering up the ground on which Steve stood. The man himself looked like shit. Beaten up with bruises and even burns all over his body.

But leaned on his shoulder, was Bucky and he didn’t even look alive anymore.

Barely audible his name escaped your lips, while your heart stopped beating.

Within a second you were next to him, cupping his face in your hands only to wince at how cold the skin beneath your fingers felt.

Your eyes flickered over his pale skin, over his slightly turning blue lips and his eyes which twitched around the room, not focusing on anything. He was barely even conscious.

His face too was beaten up and burnt, a piece of his eyebrow was missing. But the worst was definitely the bullet wound in his abdomen that made him lose too much blood right now. It was everywhere.

Oh god all this blood.

You were losing your mind.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry

Y/N, calm down. You got this. He needs you.

This all happened within the few seconds you needed to get a grip on yourself.

With a pounding heart you took a deep breath while switching in your professional Doctor mode.

“What happened?” You asked Steve while you slipped to Bucky’s other side so the both of you could carry Bucky into the treatment room.

“We were already on our way back home, thinking we already got everything covered,” Steve started to explain, sounding out of breath. “When they literally appeared out of nowhere. God, everything went so fast then. They were so many. And suddenly they were shotguns and explosions everywhere. And Bucky, this idiot, felt the need to safe me from a bullet.”

Yes, that sounded like the Bucky you knew, always ready to sacrifice himself for people he cared for.

“The hospital was too far away, didn’t want to take the risk, so I brought him back here. I just didn’t know If he … if he would make it any longer.”

You nodded, taking the information in. “He will. He will, Steve.” You answered firmly, but you weren’t sure if you were convincing him or rather yourself.

Carefully the both of you placed Bucky on the treatment table and instantly you reached for the nearest towel you could find. You ripped open his shirt to have a better look at the bullet wound and enough room to apply pressure to ease the blood flow.

Bucky groaned out of pain, making you wince. “I’m so sorry, Buck, but I have to do this.”

Suddenly his hand grasped your wrist.

You froze.

“Y/N?” Barely even a whisper, but you still heard him. His eyelids flattered, struggling to stay awake.

A little relief washed over you face, hearing his voice. At least he had still the strength to talk.

Softly you put his hand back on his chest. “Shh, save your strength, alright? I need you to hold on, love.”

When you looked up you noticed that Bruce had already arrived in the room, clearly shocked at the view. Still, once he got a picture out of the whole situation he went over to you and without a further question just took a new towel and kept applying pressure on Bucky’s wound instead.

That gave you the time you needed to gather every tool you will need for the small operation. Thereby you lifted your head to Steve and Peter who were watching the scenery with both fear and concern. While Steve looked a bit more stabled Peter turned alarmingly pale himself. He shouldn’t be seeing that right now.

“Steve? Are you in a stable condition right now? Or do you have a serious inju-“

The Captain immediately shook his head. “No, no I’m fine. Please, Bucky is more important in this moment.”

You nodded, your eyes flickering to Peter for a second. “Pete, I need you to leave this room. I don’t want you to witness this.”

The poor boy seemed to be in quite a shock but Steve put his arm around his shoulder and gave you a forced smile. “I’ve got this, Y/N.”

With a last, worried look to his best friend, he and Peter left the room, leaving you and Barnes alone.

You moved the table with the tools next to where Bucky lay, reaching for the Anesthetic injection when you noticed the blood on your hands.

His blood.

It was everywhere.

His blood.

He was dying.

You could lose him.

His blood.

Suddenly you felt warm hands covering your trembling fingers, startling you but bringing your mind back to earth. Bruce gave you a small smile but nodded sternly and internally you just wanted to slap yourself. Yes, he would die if you keep sitting here! You had done this over a thousand time, get a grip, Y/N!

But it just never had been Bucky’s life you needed to safe…

Bruce gave you a sympathetic but reassuring smile, before he gently took the syringe out of your hand. While he injected it to Bucky you took the time to prepare everything – yourself included - for what was coming.

“You got this?”

You nodded, not saying anything.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The next few hours you could easily call the worst of your life.

Bucky’s pulse had become even weaker, his vitals worse. His whole life was literally in your hands. You didn’t dare to imagine what would happen if his heart would just stop beating, you couldn’t because then you would start to lose your mind and then you would have a breakdown and then no one would be there to safe him.

So you gave your best in removing the bullet out of his body, stopping the bleeding, sewing the wound.

You and Bruce had done everything you could possibly do.

Now the wound was fully treated and bandaged. Bucky’s face was cleaned, the burns creamed.

You were exhausted and drained on a new level, but by god, you couldn’t let yourself sleep right now. You weren’t even able too.

Not when Bucky, your Bucky was lying here, barely having escaped death.

Bruce had gone to bed a couple of hours ago, of course only after he had helped to take Bucky over to his room. Thanks to the serum in Buck’s blood, which ensured that he didn’t need any infusions, he could lay vacantly and comfortable in his bed.

You sat next to him on a chair, watching his peacefully resting face. Fondly you brushed some hair out of his face.

HE had finally gained a little more colour and even his heart rate was normal again, giving you hope that he’ll finally be awake soon.

“Please, come back to me,” you whispered while you gently brought his hand up to you lips, putting a soft kiss on it.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

You must have felt asleep because the next thing you knew Steve was entering the room, a frown on his face.

“Bucky is stable now,” you murmured still half asleep, trying to hide the yawn that escaped you.

Steve chuckled. “Yes, I got it the other twenty times you’ve said that today, too. I’m more concerned for you, Y/N.”

“Me? But how are you feeling? I see Bruce had done a good job on your own injuries.”

“Don’t try to change the topic. You know what? You go and get some deserved sleep, while I watch over him, alright?”

“But if anything happens- “you protested.

“I’ll make sure to call you,” Steve promised, a soft smile on his lips, before he shooed you out of the room.

As soon as the door closed behind you, you knew you couldn’t go back to sleep. Not when he wasn’t in reach anymore.

So you paced around the rooms, cleaning anything that was in sight, just to keep your thoughts from the endless racing ‘what ifs’. Friday updated you with every small information or change or anything that concerned Bucky’s health.

When you entered the kitchen you were surprised to find Peter was still here, eating Tony’s inventories of his favourite cookies. This time it was you who joined him.

Apparently he couldn’t sleep either so the next few hours you let yourself get distracted by Peter’s entertaining stories and little jokes, until the end of Steve’s shift drew to a close.

Carefully, not wanting to make any loud noises you opened the door to Bucky’s and yours shared room, Peter who wanted to visit Bucky too, was right behind you.

The early morning sunshine shined through the window right on Bucky’s peaceful features. It made him look like an angel. Though it would be beautiful any other time, now it just made your heart clench.

With a very exhausted face Steve stood up from the chair he was sitting at and ran his hand through his messy hair, while he still managed to give you a hopeful smile.

“How is he?” You asked him, while you slowly approached Bucky’s bed.

Steve cleared his throat. “His vitals are still fine. Bruce came a couple of hours ago to take a few tests. Everything looked good.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I thought you promised me…” You turned around to the Captain reproachfully and a little hurt but he just looked slightly guilty.

“Y/N, have you seen yourself? I wanted to let you sleep at least for a while.”

Peter, who noticed the uprising tension between you caused by the lack of sleep, immediately stepped in. “But when’s he gonna wake up?”

“I don’t know, Pete.” You shook your head, wrapping your arms around your chest.

“But- But it’s a when, right? Not an if?”

“Of course, Pete, I-“

“How long are you guys going to stand around my bed like a bunch of creepers?”

You whirled around. “Bucky...”

There he was… even though he just woke up he already had this amused glint in his blue eyes, watching you all.

With a racing heart you knelt down on the ground in front of where he lay. While you gently put a hand on his forehead to see if his fever vanished you tried to hold your tears back. “How are you feeling?”

Bucky used his hand to put it on top of your own before he grinned weakly. “Well, my eyebrow hurt.”

You chuckled and managed a teary laugh. “Oh? Just your eyebrow?”

Considering there was nearly nothing left of his right eyebrow…

You moved a little as Steve knelt down beside you, giving a little space. “You gave me quite a fright there, pal.” He stated, looking just as relived as you felt. “You know I’ve had everything under control.”

Bucky laughed at this, clearly not believing anything. “Yeah sure. I’ve hear this one over 70 years ago, too, you know.”

Suddenly his eyes locked on something behind you and it was a moment of realization lasting only a split second. When you turned around to see what had caught his attention you noticed Peter who had appeared in the door frame, looking a little bit embarrassed by all the eyes laying on him.

“Surprised to see you here, Spider kid,” Bucky said to which Peter’s eyes widened.

“You- you do really remember me?”

“How couldn’t I? Your attack was quite surprising at the airport. With those sticky ...” Bucky tried to intimate peter’s movement, struggling for words.

“Nets. Spider nets,” Peter explained with an excited and proud grin.

“You made them yourself?”

You looked over to Steve who had been watching their conversation in delight and the both of you shared an amused grin about the fan boy. You decided to give them turning friends a little space.

“You’ll be okay?” you mouthed and when Bucky gave you a reassuring nod you and Steve left the room for a while.

You went to the kitchen where you prepared some sandwiches and something to drink for everyone and put them on a tablet.

Steve sat down on a chair at the kitchen isle removing some leftover cookie crumbs. “Did Bruce finally go to bed?”

“Yes, fortunately. Though, I don’t think it will last any longer. He’s Bruce after all.”

The whole night he had stayed awake taking care of all of you, bringing blankets, food, coffee, treating Bucky… He was a real hero.

“And you should go, too, you haven’t really slept in more than 30 hours,” he said in a stern tone.

“Take a sandwich, Steve.”

“And I know you weren’t sleeping during my shift!” He protested but took the sandwich nevertheless.

You held both your hands up in defense. “Alright, alright! You got me there. Let me just- “A pleading look to the door that lead to Bucky’s room and he understood.

“Yeah, yeah, sure go ahead but I’m watching you.”

With raised eyebrows but still smiling you made your way over to Bucky again, though not without shouting over your shoulder, “You’re not my Dad, Steve!”

You walk in on Peter and Bucky laughing about something; Peter still with a bright, joyful grin on his face. Delighted for this conversation with his hero.

With a smile on your lips you leant against the doorframe and watched the scenery. Bucky was obviously still weak and tired yet you could still see the amusement in his eyes. It meant a lot for him that this boy admired him. While there’s certainly a lot of respect from Peter’s side, there’s not a bit of fear, just honest curiosity.

As soon as Peter noticed you he said a quick goodbye to Bucky and wished him a good recovery, then he hurried out of the room, leaving the both of you alone.

Bucky meets your eyes and you just stopped, and of course you couldn’t help but admire the loving and tender expression in his beautiful blue eyes.

“Hey there,” you whispered softly.

“Hi, doll.”

Slowly you made your way to sit on the edge of his bed. “Peter’s an adorable kid, isn’t he?”

A small laugh escaped his lips and made your heart beat double.

“Indeed, he is. I like his spirit.”

A moment of silence occurred in which the both of you just looked at each other.

“You quite scared me there, Buck,” you then stated, not trusting you voice to speak any louder than a whisper.

“Yeah, I didn't expect to return to you this way, either.”

“How are you feeling?” You placed a hand on his right cheek. “And now please be honest.”

Bucky took a deep breath before he closed his eyes and put his own hand on top of yours. “I’m feeling way better than you think, doll. Don’t be concerned.”

You frowned in astonishment. He’s got nerves. “Don’t be concerned? Love, you’ve just been hit by a bullet. You have cuts and bruises and burns all over your body! How can I not be concerned? Why - why are you looking at me like that?”

He was looking at you in a way as if he didn’t hear a word you just said. Bucky just laid there, smiling, while he lifted a hand to your cheek and gently struck it.

“I’ve missed you.”

Bucky moved to sat up halfway and you just opened your mouth to protest to no move or the stitched will reopen, when he was already pulling you in to a soft kiss. Your eyes fluttered shut and as always your whole body and mind said good night.

“Your lips are so soft. I could kiss them all day,” he murmured in between your lips.

Then don’t stop, was all you wanted to say, but you realized his health was more important right now. So you removed yourself a little and wanted to look reproachfully but honestly you couldn’t help with this man. “You’re still looking rather pale, love, you should stay in bed for a while. I’ll bring you food.”

But the moment you let go of him he pulled you further down again so you were now leaning against his side.

Immediately you protested. “You’re injured, Buck. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m still fit enough for this,” he replied cheeky while laying his arm around you. Snuggling into him, always careful not to hurt him somehow, you were about to close your eyes and just enjoy this moment, when a chuckle made you rip them open again.

Peter stood in the door frame, a mischief grin on his face.

“Oh, and Mr. Bucky?

Your eyebrow looks lit, by he way!”

#Bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #avengers #avengers imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #avengers x you #avengers x reader

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holdin-out-for-a-hero · 4 years

Text

Desperate Measures- Carlos Oliveira X Reader

Warnings: slightly graphic, lots of blood talk

A/N: The lack of Carlos content on my own blog was disturbing, so I had to fix it. I’ve got a few more ideas for him as well! Also, I’m no medical professional, this may not be completely accurate.

The pain was burning, searing at your side like nothing you had felt before. You had trouble focusing on it though, on anything at all, because the loss of blood had made you lightheaded. You didn't want to die, not like this. Not when you were so close to making it out alive.

To think, in a city infested with flesh-hungry zombies, you were going to die by gunshot. Oh, the irony. Carlos's superior, Nicholai you think, 'accidentally' shot you instead of the zombie a few feet to your right. That was BS, and you knew it. You were there with Jill when he took out one of his own, surely he’d have no problem taking out you too.

Somehow, despite the pain, you managed to kill the creature that was after you. Nicholai was no help. He left you, all alone, hiding from the undead with a bullet in your side. Thank God Carlos had found you when he did, you didn't think you'd make it much longer if he hadn't.

The hands tending to your wound pushed down harder to slow the blood pouring out of your side, causing you to curse in pain.

"Could you be any more gentle?" You groaned. Carlos let out a breath he was holding; it had been a while since you last spoke and he was getting a little worried.

"Sorry, but we’ve got to stop the bleeding," was all he said. He was too focused on the task at hand to think of anything witty.

You didn't respond, because if you did, it would be something unintentionally mean and you didn't want to be an ass to the man who was saving your life.

For now, you focused on your breathing. In, hold, and out. In, hold, and out. Just like your therapist had taught you. You were gonna be ok, right? He was gonna save you... right?

You shook those thoughts away. Of course he was. And then you were gonna shoot Nicholai in the dick. You smiled at the mental image.

"I'm gonna lift your shirt up, is that ok?" He asked.

"Now is not the time to be respectful, Carlos," And there you were, being mean to the man who was saving your life.

He didn’t seem phased, though. He laughed, peeling up the bloody fabric from your skin. His hand stopped just above the wound, and upon looking at it, he shuddered. It didn't look good. You were losing a lot of blood, and it wasn't going to stop anytime soon. He needed to find a way to stop the bleeding, and fast.

Racking his brain for any solutions, he remembered something he was taught during his guerrilla days, way before he was recruited by umbrella. But it was a pretty drastic procedure, only to be used in dire circumstances. He looked back at your wound, watching the blood pool around his fingers. These were dire circumstances.

Looking down the alleyway, a fire engulfed one of your only exits. That would work for a heat source. Now all he needed was something metal. He pulled out his knife, still shiny and unused.

"How good are you with pain?" He asked.

"Why? What are you gonna do?" He didn’t respond at first. He kept looking at his blade, at your wound, and then to the fire. “Carlos, answer me!”

"I'm gonna cauterize your wound."

You had a vague idea of what that was, and the mere thought of it made you queasy. But you couldn't protest, you knew you wouldn't make it if he didn't do something drastic. You were already starting to feel dizzy from the lack of blood.

Carlos made his way to the fire and placed his blade into the flame, waiting for the metal to glow with its own heat. The crackling embers radiated across his hand, an almost unbearable sensation. He hesitated before taking the blade out, though; for when he did, he would have to press it onto your wound right away. He really didn’t want to do it, but he also didn’t want you to die.

"You got something to bite on?" He asked.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You replied. He smiled, for even in dire circumstances, you had the same attitude he had grown to love. He’d only known you for a few hours, but he knew that he wanted to keep in touch after this was over. Whether it was just as friends or something more. But in order for that to be a possibility, he’d have to really hurt you to save your life. Maybe this would make for a great story in a couple years, if you ever talked to him again after this.

He had a handkerchief with him, he realized, and with his other hand, he tossed it to you.

"You're gonna need it to bite on.”

Taking the blade from out of the fire, he approached your crumpled form. Your eyes met with the hot metal, widening at its dull glow. This was gonna hurt like hell, and you knew it. Rolling up the handkerchief, you placed it between your teeth. Still, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of the hot metal. The breath work you had just done was for nothing, because the object in his hands made your heart race and breath heavy.

"Hey, don't look at it. Look at me. Look into my eyes," Carlos said, and you did as you were told. He smiled at you, "They're dreamy, aren't they?"

Before you had a chance to scoff or laugh, the scalding piece of metal made contact with your skin and you cried out in pain. It had only touched your skin for a second before he removed it, but then he pressed into your skin again.

He continued this process a few more times, and it felt like each time was more painful than the previous. You couldn't handle it, there wasn't even enough time in between each contact for you to take an adequate breath and brace yourself. Tears pricked your eyes and your jaw was sore from biting down so hard. And though Carlos tried to comfort you, distract you from the pain with his words, you couldn’t ever listen to what he was saying anymore. Your dizziness was getting much worse now, as brown clouds settled over your vision; you couldn’t make out Carlos’s face anymore.

"It's almost over, Y/N. I'm almost done," Carlos reassured, making sure you kept eye contact with him. He noticed your eyes glazing over, though.

He peaked down at your wound, and with one more pulse of the knife, the wound was scabbed over. He put the knife down and looked back up at your face.

Upon seeing your eyes closed and head rolled to the side, his heart skipped a beat. He put his two fingers up to your neck. There was a pulse, thank God.

"Just scare the hell out of me, y/n," he said to himself.

Your face, though scarily pale, looked peaceful, Carlos thought. A few stands of hair stuck to your sweaty forehead, and he gently pushed them away.

"You're gonna be just fine." The words fell off of his tongue, though he knew you wouldn't hear it.

With the wound cauterized, he had to clean it up or else risk infection. With the first aid supplies he carried on him, he disinfected your wound and wiped your abdomen clean of dried blood. Then, he made quick work applying gauze to your stomach and then wrapping your side up in bandages.

You still hadn't stirred, and he just had to check your pulse one last time. Feeling the heartbeat under his fingertips, he gave a satisfied sigh, before slumping next to you against the brick wall.

He sat there a few minutes, listening to the crackling of the fire and the distant groans of the undead. Though it was nice to take a breather, he knew he wasn’t safe here. You weren’t safe either, and you were in no shape to fight off the creatures that filled the streets.

“Where’s Jill?” You asked. You had just regained consciousness, and your voice was rough and weak. He looked over his shoulder at you, taking your hand and squeezing it.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna find her. I promise,” he said, “But let’s get you out of here first.”

He got to his knees, pressing and holding down the button on his radio.

“Tyrell, you still alive?” Carlos asked.

“Somehow,” a voice came through the static.

“Meet me up at the hospital. You’ve got some babysitting to do.”

“Babysitting?”

“Yeah. But I don’t think you’ll mind watching this lovely lady.”

“Is it Y/N? Is she ok?”

“She’s not doing to hot. Look, I’ll tell you more when we meet up.”

“Ok. Meet you there.”

Carlos let go of his radio, looking back at you. A pained expression graced your face as you fought back tears. The burn he gave you was still excruciatingly painful.

He moved to your side, sliding his arms under your knees and back, before picking you up with a groan.

“Tyrell’s gonna take good care of you, Y/N. Don’t worry,” he said, adjusting you in his arms so that he wouldn’t be aggravating your wound,

“How are you feeling right now?”

“Like hell.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

In your half-alert state, you found yourself curling into Carlos’s warm torso. You were so, so cold, probably because of the blood loss, and too out of it to be embarrassed. Carlos noticed it too, how frigid your skin felt against his own, and pulled you a little tighter into his chest.

“You owe me a drink after this,” your words slurred together a little. Carlos may have stopped the bleeding, but he was still scared to death of your current state.

“It’s a date then,” he said. Though he was worried for you, he didn’t let that show in his demeanor or in the tone of his voice. Because you didn’t need to see that. He didn’t want you to worry either.

With you in his arms, he looked around the corner and onto the Main Street. Bodies swayed under the city’s fluorescent lights, some groaning and dragging themselves along the concrete. At the very edge of the horizon he spotted the hospital. And to get there, he’d have to get past all the bodies. His hands were full, there was no way to use his weapons. That meant he could only rely on speed to make it there in one piece. This was going to be fun.

#carlos oliveira #carlos oliveira x reader #re3 remake #re3make #resident evil #jill valentine

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forever-rogue · 4 years

Text

Velvet & Honey - Part 2

Summary: Ruthless CEO Max Lord is about to meet his biggest match yet in another CEO such as cunning and biting as he can be.

A/N: Thank you guys for all of your support on the first part! I’m really glad you guys liked it ;) If you’d like to be tagged, please let me know, and as always, feedback and comments are always welcome! xx

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: language; smut

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Please,” the young girl whimpered out as Max thrust ruthlessly into her, over and over again at a relenting pace. The only sounds in the room where the sounds of his grunts through gritted teeth and the slap of skin on skin, “Mr. Lord-”

“Shut up,” he growled at her, managed to choke the words as he shoved her face down harder on the desk as he took her over it. Normally hearing someone whimper under him would only serve to turn him on more, but today it was just annoying. When he was getting close, he slowed down before completely pulling out of her and reached for a golden bullet lipstick sitting at the edge of the desk. It was a miracle that it hadn’t fallen over and toppled off. Grabbing it in his haste, he shoved it at the young girl, a new employee, “put this on.”

She wiped away the tears from the corners of her eyes before taking the lipstick and uncapping it. She was scared, but even she knew better already than to question him. She was his flavor of the week; the girl he’d use for a few days to get his frustrations out before forgetting about her completely. Glancing into the mirror behind Max, she applied it as best as she could, painting her lips in the same shade of ruby red that you favored. Max had made sure it was the exact same one.

Once he was satisfied with her handiwork, he grabbed the lipstick and set it down before motioning for her to get on her knees. She reluctantly did so, her nervous gaze never leaving his. He had picked her for a specific reason, although that was unbeknownst to her; she resembled you, at least as much as anyone in his office did. She wasn’t an exact replica, but close enough, close enough to where he could imagine it was you, if he wasn’t paying too much attention. Although if he was being honest with himself, her mouth wasn’t as smart as yours, her ass not as perky, tits not as perfect, but she would do. Until he could get his hands on you anyway.

“Open,” he commanded and she slowly opened her mouth, bracing herself for what was to come, she knew it would be rough. Max was a lot of things, an arrogant prick and asshole, but at least he had made sure she was willing to do this, to be used by him for his own pleasure how he wanted. She did as she was told and he quickly shoved his cock into her mouth, groaning at the feeling of her warmth around him. Grabbing her hair into ponytail, he began to thrust into her mouth, a wicked smile playing on his lips as he watched the red lipstick smear all over her face and his cock. It was even better than he had envisioned. Only it wasn’t perfect because it wasn’t you.

His thrusts quickly grew more erratic and he murmured a slew of quiet curses before stopping and pulling out of her mouth. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she opened wide, and he stroked his cock a few times before cumming, letting it go all over face and into her mouth. She remained silent as she let him finish; once he was done he tossed her a handkerchief to clean herself up with. He was done with her, he’d gotten exactly what he needed.

“Make yourself presentable and get out,” his voice was cold as ice as he sat back down at his desk, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against the dark wood. Spying the lipstick, he grabbed it and shoved it back into the top drawer of his desk, saving it for the next time, the next girl.

Once she left, he slammed his fist on the table and chastised himself. He’d barely seen you in person, only spoke to you a few times on the phone, and yet you had such a hold over him. He’d never experienced this type of want, this type of hunger, this pure unadulterated lust before, and it was driving him insane.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Good morning, Miss L/N,” your assistant Adina, created you with a warm smile as you walked into your office. You liked her, she’d been working along side you for a long time now, and was one of the few people who didn’t just kiss up to you for their personal gain. Shaking your head at her, you set a cup of coffee down for her, prepared just how she liked it.

“Adina, it’s Y/N, just Y/N,” you reminded her with a warm smile. She gratefully took the cup of coffee and took a long sip as she gave you a nod, “anything exciting happen this morning?”

“I’m afraid not,” she glanced over notes and shook her head, “there was a delivery for you, though. I put it in your office.”

“Delivery? From who?” you quirked an eyebrow out of curiosity. You hadn’t ordered anything, and you certainly weren’t expecting anything from anyone. Adina shrugged her shoulders at you and gave you a sorry smile.

“I don’t,” she answered, “it was on my desk when I got here and it had your name on it. Nothing to suggest where it was from. Do you want me to have it taken away?”

“No,” while there were plenty of people that would want to bring you down, you highly doubted that anyone would resort to doing something so bold to harm you, “at least not yet. I’ll take a look.”

Stepping into your office, you spied the big box on your desk, noting that it was a matte black, topped off with a bow and everything. A gift. There should be no reason for you getting anything, and you certainly had done anything to warrant it, but you were curious. Setting your purse and briefcase down in the chair facing your desk, you ran a hand over the smooth material of the box. It looked and felt expensive.

You slipped into the chair behind your desk and undid the bow, taking a moment to admire the pretty lace before tossing it to the side and lifting the lid off the box. Feeling several things inside, you grabbed the smaller items and took them out studying them intently.

The first was a golden bullet, clearly a lipstick from the same brand that you always purchased. Running your fingers over the ornate design, you popped off the cap to examine the color. You were a creature of habit, you generally always wore the ruby red lipstick that had become your signature. The bold color always made you feel more confident, powerful even. But this was different; still a red, but a dark, almost oxblood shade. Beautiful, but not what you would consider reaching for.

The next item was a small box, which you quickly unwrapped, finding yourself holding a delicate glass bottle. Perfume. You’d never heard of this one before, but it oozed money. After uncapping it, you tested a few sprays, letting the scent coat the room. It was a warm scent, almost musky, but there was something intoxicating about it; it was the type of perfume that would make any woman feel in charge and seductive. Gnawing on your lip, you wondered who on earth was sending you these lavish, and totally unexpected gifts. You hadn’t had a suitor or any sort of boyfriend in ages, surely there had to be some sort of mistake or mix up.

Reaching in for the last item, you pulled out another smaller black box and opened it gingerly, eyes lighting up when you realized saw that it was a beautiful pair of heels. They were black, with a lace design to them, the bottom of them indicating that they were custom made Ferragamos. These had to set anyone back a small fortune, but here they were waiting for you, pristine and just you size. Not able to stop yourself, you slipped off the heels you had put on that morning and slipped the new ones. You couldn’t help but admire them; they even felt luxe just on your feet.

You hated yourself for how much you liked them, how sexy they made you feel. You’d come into wealth as you worked your way tot the top throughout the years, but you’d never taken advantage of that, you still preferred the simple things. Sighing slightly, you slid them back off and returned them to box, along with the rest of the items. You were beginning to think you new exactly where these gifts had come from, but couldn’t be positive.

No note of any sort was to be found, which you realized was no doubt on purpose. He keeps his conquests secret. Or what he thought will be his conquests anyway. Grabbing the lid and putting it back on top of the box of presents, you took the whole thing and set it by the door to your office. You couldn’t accept it, any of it. If you did, it would just mean you’d be giving into him, and you weren’t about to do that. Not without a fight anyway.

Grabbing your phone, you quickly dialed his number, annoyed at yourself that you’d already memorized it. Pathetic, you sighed at yourself. You’d considered calling him and gotten halfway through doing so more times than you’d admit.

It rang a few times before being answered by an overly cheery voice, causing you to roll your eyes, “Maxwell Lord’s office.”

“Y/N L/N,” you didn’t even bother with the formalities. You knew she was probably a dime a dozen, only there for a chance to recognized by Max, and probably for a chance to fuck, “tell him it’s urgent.”

“Maybe I ask what it’s regarding?”

“He’ll know,” you rolled your eyes as she murmured something quickly before connecting you to Max. You could still hang up, you reminded yourself, you had about five seconds to do so; but you found yourself unable, or perhaps unwilling to do that.

“Miss L/N,” gods, he even managed to sound like an asshole over the phone, “I was wondering when you’d call.”

“Maxwell,” why were you biting your lip in anticipation at hearing his voice again? No, no, no. You did your best to pull yourself together, “what the hell is your problem?”

“I’m afraid I have no clue what you’re talking about,” he sounded pleased with himself.

“Of course you do,” you insisted, casting a glare at the box by your door. Maybe...maybe you could keep it? How bad would it be? Rubbing your temple, you let out a long breath, “the box on my desk this morning suggests otherwise. Or are you going to pretend you don’t know about that either?”

“Oh that,” he chuckled on the other end, and you could see picture leaning back in his chair, feet on the edge of his desk. What an irritating man, you hated him, you reminded yourself, “I might have a hand in that.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” he was studying his hand, admiring all the expensive rings he was wearing, thinking about how good his hand would look wrapped around your throat, “don’t women like getting gifts?”

“Depending on the circumstances, I suppose they do,” you were willing to give him that much at least, “but under these circumstances, I can’t help but think you have some ulterior motives. I didn’t think we were exactly on those terms.”

“That all depends on how you view things,” his voice was so slow and it was enough for you to hang your head in annoyance. You couldn’t help but let your thoughts muse to how that voice would sound in your ear, whispering all sorts of filthy things to you, “perhaps we are. It’s all up to you.”

“The lipstick, the perfume, those heels...” you looked longingly at them, “what exactly are you playing at?”

“There are no games here,” he reached over in his chair, wetting his lips at the thought of you going through the box, your hands running over everything he’d already touched, “I just thought you’d look good in them-”

“In what? The heels?”

“All of it,” he mused, “and only that. I like your choice of lipstick, but I think you’d look even better with something a little darker. A nice blood color, no? Since that what you seem to be out for.”

“How dare you-”

“Hmm?” he interrupted you, “think about how good you’d look in those heels while I fuck you?”

“Mr. Lord-”

“You don’t have to play so hard to get, Y/N,” he was enjoying way more than he should have been, he knew that much. But so were you, despite your best efforts, “you can admit to yourself that you want to be used like the little girl you are.”

Normally you’d never let a man talk to you like that. Never. But somehow, when it was Maxwell Lord doing it, there was a certain thrill to it. A certain something that set a dull ache off between your legs and a fire in the pit of your belly. You let a few moments of silence pass in order to make sure you were composed and your voice wouldn’t crack.

“Are you about finished?”

“Are you about done being so stubborn?” he wasn’t used to so much push back. Most people in his life usually fell at his feet, especially women, and he did grow tired of it at some point. But this? A woman challenging and pushing him to limits? That was something he could get used to. He liked a brat, and you liked being one.

You let out a sound you hoped sounded like an amused laugh. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you leaned back in your chair, "look. This...whatever you think it is, is never happening. Never. So you need to knock this shit off."

"Hmm," the singular sound was enough to get your blood boiling. You were squeezing the receiver it was surprising that it didn't shatter into a thousand little pieces, "if you change your mind, you're more than welcome to come over and show me just how good the heels look."

"You really think I'm just going to do that?" he sure was confident. You almost had to admire his brashness if it didn't irritate you so much.

"I know you will."

"Goodbye, Maxwell," you hung up before he could say anything else, shoving the phone across the desk.

Max smirked as he hung up the phone. He was going to break you one way or another. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his AmEx black card and walked out of his office to his secretary. She gave him a nervous smile as he loomed over her. He hadn't had her yet, but even she knew her time would come. Everyone did. That's how it worked when Maxwell Lord was your boss.

"Sir?" her voice climbed an octave as he tossed the card in front of her.

"Take it and buy the finest set of lingerie money can buy," he instructed her, quickly following up with your measurements that he had somehow procured. He had his ways, he always did. She looked at him with wide eyes; it should have been a simple task, but nothing was ever easy when it came to him.

"Sir-"

"And make it sexy," he stated as if that wasn't obvious.

"Yes sir."

"And if it's not," he raised an eyebrow at her, "don't bother coming back."

"Y-yes," she agreed quietly, biting back the tears that had started pricking at the back of her eyes. While she enjoyed her job, she enjoyed being left alone a lot more. And this type of special assignment was not what she had bargained for. He was a specific man with a specific taste, and she was afraid she was going to miss the mark. Max seemed to notice her hesitation and raced and eyebrow at her, pointing towards the elevator.

“Get going,” he insisted, “you’ve got until the end of the day.”

She scrambled up and grabbed her purse, pocketing the suddenly heavy credit card as she tried to figure out where to go and what to buy. After all, how do you please a man like Maxwell Lord?

»»————-　♡　————-««

After a while of sitting and contemplating your conversation with Max, you finally got up and went back to the box. Part of you wanted to throw it away, or better yet, give it all away to people that might like it even more than you, but you found yourself unable. Instead, you picked the box back up and stuffed it into the small cabinet and locking it up. You shouldn’t have, you knew you should have just parted with the items, but some small part of you told you not to.

Deciding to go for a walk to clear your head, you stepped out of your office.

“What was in the package?” Adina’s question caught you so off guard that you just jumped, a guilty look crossing your features. She raised an eyebrow and waited for you to say something, “Y/N?”

“Nothing,” you lied, trying to keep a straight face on, “it was a mistake...so I just put it to the side...I’ll make sure it goes to the right place.”

“Oh? I’m sure it was specifically meant for you,” she was asking too many questions, and you wished your poker face was better. Usually it was, but something about all of this made you feel different...weird and awkward.

“There must have been a mistake,” you insisted again, a tone of finality in your voice as Adina seemed to understand that you were done with the conversation. She knew something was up, but she wasn’t going to push you; she knew better than that.

Before she could say anything else you turned towards the staircase, rather than the elevator, and headed down them as quickly as possible, not even bothering to try and catch your breathe. You just needed to go ahead and clear your head. You had a long day of work left ahead of you, and you weren’t going to get anything done if all of your thoughts were consumed by Maxwell Lord.

Once you burst out into the semi busy street, you decided to walk a few blocks to get some air. But you were so lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice the young woman slowly walking ahead of you, looking closely at each storefront display. You walked right into her, surprising yourself and the girl, but quickly recovered.

“I’m so sorry,” you sighed, cursing yourself for being so careless, “are you okay? I totally wasn’t even paying attention.”

“It’s fine,” she sounded nervous, but gave you a small smile. She looked you over a few times, almost as if she recognized you, “I’m sorry but are you...I know this is weird, but I’m ugh...looking for some lingerie, and I have no clue what to look for. Do you...is there anything you’d recommend? I realize this is weird and I’m sorry-”

“It’s totally fine,” you did your best to give her a smile. Poor thing looked so nervous, this was probably the first time she was buying any sort of such thing, “always go for something black and lacy. Velvet if possible. Anything pretty and barely there, but that leaves just enough to the imagination. Men aren’t hard to please. They see a pretty thing and they’re thinking with their penis, not their head.”

“Thanks,” she seemed to ease up a little bit, letting out a small laugh at your words, “I appreciate your help.”

“No problem,” you gave her a warm smile before turning to continue on your walk to wherever, “I’m sure your boyfriend will love whatever you get.”

She gave you a small wave as you walked away, feeling a light sense of relief in her heart. At least she knew what to look for; what better place to get advice than right from the woman herself. She hoped Max would be pleased, and wondered if she should tell him that she had encountered you. Probably not; he might get mad that she had somehow blown his surprise. She had no clue what was going on with you the two of you, but she wasn’t going to question it. Today she was just focused on keeping her job.

After your little encounter with Max’s assistant, unbeknownst to you of course, you had a wicked idea. It was probably stupid, you really shouldn’t have done it, but you couldn’t help yourself. Not in that moment.

You found yourself entering the office that belonged to your ex, already annoyed with yourself. Walking up to the receptionist, you gave her a sweet smile, “hi, Y/N L/N here for Benjamin Vasquez.”

“Do you have an appointment?” her voice was high pitched and grating, and it took every fiber of your being not to roll your eyes.

“No, I don’t,” you replied, “just tell him I’m-”

“Y/N,” Benjamin popped his head out of his office, almost as if he could sense that you were there. He gave you a soft smile as he beckoned for you to follow him into his office. You turned to the woman at the desk, gave her a sickly sweet smile before turning to follow him. Once you were in his office, he closed the door and locked it, leaning against it with a smirk playing on his handsome features, “to what do I owe the pleasure? It’s been a while.”

“Are you free?” you asked as you slipped off your blazer and tossed it over one of the chairs. He let out a breathy laugh as he studied you, knowing exactly what you were here for. You hated yourself for it, but you knew you needed to scratch this itch before it drove you crazy.

“I’ve got an appointment in an hour,” he answered as he walked back over to you. You didn’t waste any time in slipping your hands under his jacket and loosening his tie, “I should have known this is what you came for.”

“Shut up,” you pressed a finger to his lips, effectively shushing him before he crashed his lips onto yours, hands already starting to undo your blouse. While your relationship hadn’t worked out, you always did have good chemistry with him, “just fuck me.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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