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notenoughncise · 3 months

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Why Don’t You Talk to Matty About it?

word count: 2.5K

f!reader x matty

tags: angst, happy ending

warnings: alcohol, mentions of smut but no actual smut

after pining after matty since they became friends 15 years ago, it all comes to a head for y/n on a drunken night out

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You’re nearly two bottles of wine deep when she comes up to the table.

“Hiiiiii… I just wanted to say that I’m a massive fan of yours. I loooove the new album!”

She’s drunk as fuck; stumbling over her words, gripping his shoulder to keep herself steady. You feel the jealousy burning through your entire body. It’s a chore not to show it; to smile instead of scowl at her, to drink from your glass at a normal pace instead of throwing it down your throat.

He turns his head to look up at her, smiling so genuinely that you want to claw your eyes out. He’s drunk too, you can see it in the way he clumsily puts his hands over the one she has on his shoulder, eyes glazed over.

“Aw, thank you, Darlin’. We’re glad you like it.”

You feel sick. He’s looking at her so gently, like he might spook her if he doesn’t. She’s just a fan saying hello, you scream at yourself internally, stop being a fucking melt. And it almost works, you almost calm down, and then she giggles and plops herself down next to him. You breathe in sharply, tightening your grip on your glass.

George puts his hand on your thigh, and in leans in to whisper to you.

“Y/N, you need to chill out.”

George is right. You know he is. He’s always fucking right. You need to get a grip. 32 years old and so hung up on your teenage crush that you’re seriously considering squaring up to a teenager. And for what? A man who maybe looks your way twice on a good day? That’s not true. You aren’t being fair. Sometimes you think you see it in his eyes, but it disappears so fast. You can’t ever tell if it was really there. And he smiles, he smiles so softly just for you; so softly it makes you weak in the knees, makes you smile back a shit eating grin every time.

But what does it matter - he isn’t yours. You’re just ‘the friend’, the one woman he can count on to not try it on with him. He told you as much one time, sat huddled together in the freezing cold on someone’s back door step when you were 17. And what were you supposed to say to that? ‘Uhh, actually Matty…’, Yeah right. You smiled and took the fag that was dangling between his fingers, taking the longest drag you could manage so you didn’t have to reply. And here you are, over 15 years later, smiling sweetly and keeping your mouth occupied so you don’t ruin your life.

You’ve got a face like thunder, you can feel it. But you can’t stop it. You can’t stop looking at him, can’t stop the jealousy ripping through you. A jealousy you don’t really have a right to have. He’s got you all wound up. He’s not even looking at you and you’re on the edge of your seat.

But who are you kidding? He’s always got you wound up. Always got your knees on the verge of buckling, always got you hanging onto every word he says. You feel your whole body pulse every time he looks your way. You always have. It’s a curse you can’t escape. Not to be dramatic but sisyphus had it easy compared to you.

You all watch as he runs his hands up and down her waist, keeping his eyes on her. She giggles, bites her lip, clearly living out her rockstar fantasy. You want to strangle her. You wish this wine glass was her and you could just squeeze and squeeze and squeeze and-

“You need another drink, Y/N?” George asks, sensing that you need to be taken away from the table immediately.

“I would love another drink.”

George holds open the door to the smoking area for you.

You fumble with the packet, can’t find your lighter, realise that Matty bumped it earlier and never put it back.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!”

It’s too much. It’s the last straw. Here you are crouched down in a dingy smoking area on the verge of bawling your eyes out. All because some stupid child is holding Matty’s attention. She’s not a child, you think to yourself. She’s obviously old enough to be in here but oh what does it matter. You can’t think straight anymore.

You can’t stop thinking about his hands on her, how you wish they were on you. You’re so jealous. So jealous that she just sat down right next to him and melted onto his body. She did something in 10 seconds that you haven’t done in 10 years. And is it really that easy? Do you just need to hike your dress up, drag out your vowels, and bat your eyelashes? Will you he fuck you senseless then? Take you into the bathrooms and show you what next week looks like?

But that’s not really want you want, is it? It’s just easier to think about him if you convince yourself you only want to fuck him. That all you want is his hands in your hair and your lips on his neck. That you don’t want him in a nice, normal way at all. You don’t think about being the girl in his Instagram stories, or waking up in his arms every morning, or… or…

“This is getting pathetic, Y/N.” George’s hand is gently resting on your shoulder. He doesn’t look angry, he just looks at you with that sort of sad face you have when you can’t hide that you think someone’s being a massive twat.

“Yeah, I know. Believe me I fucking know.” You don’t mean it to sound as sad as it does. George crouches down next to you, running his hand up and down your arm.

You couldn’t count the amount of times you and George have sat like this; cuddled together as you cried about Matty. It never gets old, it’s almost a monthly event now. He joked once that you need to start marking it on the calendar for him so he can wear something he doesn’t mind you covering with makeup. You’ve become unexpectedly close. You never knew him well until that same fateful night you were put in your place by Matty. That was the first time - you sat cross legged on the kitchen counter with your lip quivering and your chest heaving, and George just held your hand until you calmed down.

“You can’t just keep crying about him. If he doesn’t feel the same way it won’t change anything; you’ll be embarrassed for a couple weeks and then it’ll all fall back into place. He’s a dick but he loves you more than anything, Y/N. You know he wouldn’t be mean about it. You know that.”

You choke back a sob. You know he’s right, it wouldn’t change anything really. You’re both adults, no one’s 16 anymore. It can be mature, you can both be sensible. But it’s always the same; gone are your inhibitions and in their place is Matty, clouding up your senses.

“I can’t do it George,” you whisper softly, wiping underneath your eyes with the sleeve of your dress, “I can’t risk losing him. I’d rather never have him the way I want and still have him here than never have him the way I want and not have him here.”

It’s too quiet. It’s quite sudden, it’s uncomfortable. It’s just a girl crying over a crush, except the girl’s in her 30’s and the crush is her best friend.

George pulls himself up off the ground, holding out his hands to help you. You take them gently and you both giggle when you fall flat on your arse. You dust yourself off and stand up properly. George takes a lighter from his pocket and lights the slightly crumpled fag you forgot you’ve been gripping onto.

“Sorry for being a massive gimp.” You laugh gently.

“S’alright, Y/L/N. My favourite thing about you.” He tries to keep his face straight but breaks into a massive grin, laughing along with you.

“I’m fine. I promise, I’m just… I don’t know, I don’t really have the words for it, to be honest with you.”

“Look, we’re gonna go back in there, get another drink, request whatever ridiculous song it takes to cheer you up, and we’re gonna have a fucking great time. Okay?”

“Okay.” You smile at him. You don’t know how anyone survives in this world without George Daniel.

He pulls you into a hug, and you can’t help but start crying again. You wipe at the tears but it does nothing other than ruin your makeup even more.

“I’m gonna look a fucking state when I go back in there.”

“Eh, it’s dark. No one will be able to tell.”

“Wow,” you laugh out, “thanks George, very reassuring.”

“Always welcome, love. Now come on, it’s fucking freezing. You can cry about being in love inside.”

As George starts to lead you back inside, you hear Matty’s voice echoing out towards you.

“Y/N? George? You guys out here? You’ve been gone for ages.” Panic pulses through you as Matty’s voice fills the smoking area.

You’re still glued to George when Matty stumbles onto you both. He looks so worried, distressed. And then he looks confused. Confused why you’re crying, why you’re clinging to George like your life depends on it.

“Yeah, yeah we’re out here. Jus’ having a chat.” George says, rubbing your back with one hand and wiping away your smudged mascara with the other.

You smile gently at Matty, not quite able to meet his eyes. You’re embarrassed, there’s really no other words for it. No excuses, no nothing, the man you’re crying your eyes out about has just wandered in on you doing it. And where do you go from there?

“Y/N? What’s going on, sweetheart? Why you crying so hard?”

He placed a hand on your check, wiping at the bottom of your eyes with his thumb. Fuck sake, your eyes begin watering again (not that they ever stopped). You don’t want to have this conversation. No one wants to have this conversation. George especially doesn’t want to be in the middle of said conversation.

“I’m Okay, Matty.”

He looks sceptical - he knows you too well for this.

“Honestly, Matty, really, I’m okay.”

Lying straight through your teeth to Matty is a fully developed talent at this stage in your life, but you just don’t have the conviction tonight. He tries to meet your eyes again. but you can’t get them off your shoes. You hear him sigh. Shame burns in you - since when couldn’t you spew shit at Matty to keep him on the wrong track?

“Darlin’… Come on, you think I don’t know you well enough to know that’s not true?”

“Matty… Please, just leave it.”

“Okay, I can’t be arsed anymore. You two are getting left to sort this out.” George makes a move towards the door, and before you can process what just happened he’s back inside.

“Fuck.” You try and run after him, but Matty grips your wrist.

“Y/N, what the fuck is going on? Why are you crying and why are you lying to me about it, Darlin’?”

His face is so gentle. His grip on your wrist has loosened but he hasn’t let go. Curls falling in his eyes, fingers on your pulse. It’s too much. It’s too much. And then his other arm snakes around your waist and you can’t do it anymore. Your chest is so tight it might combust. And your face is so hot in the cold London weather that it burns. After an eternity, you meet his eyes.

“I… I can’t… I can’t, Matty. I can’t.”

The grip tightens, he pulls you closer.

“Come on, darlin’, use your words.”

“Oh fuck off, Matthew.” You half sigh, half giggle.

“Use ‘em, come on, use ‘em. Why don’t you talk to Matty about it?”

You laugh gently, watching as his face breaks out in a smile. God he’s so pretty. His hand is still cradling your check, thumb gently gliding over your skin. You don’t want to use your words. You don’t want to talk about this at all.

“Y/N?”

“I’m fine, really. You can go back to flirting with the borderline high schooler.”

It comes out meaner than you wanted it to, and you watch as Matty’s face falls. Fuck. So much for not having this conversation.

“Her? That’s what this is about? A fan I spoke to for less than five minutes?”

You try to move away from him, your cheeks burning red from the embarrassment - like a child caught with its hand in the cookie jar. But his grip on your wrist and waist tightens and he pulls you back in.

“Don’t make me do this Matty. I mean it. Please.” Tears well in your eyes, this could be it. This could be the last time Matty ever holds you like this, ever winds you up to stop you from crying. You don’t want it to end. How could you ever want this to end.

“Y/N, are you seriously jealous of a fucking 18 year old? Do you think I’d do that to you? Really? Come on, Darlin’ use that pretty head of yours.”

You’re too busy trying not to let the tears drop that you almost don’t catch the look of sheer panic in his eyes. It stops you in your tracks. Why does he look panicked? Why would he look panicked? Your heart races.

“Matty?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

You’re so close to each other you’re basically breathing the same air. His hand around your waist has been holding yours, your other hand has just been dangling at your side since you didn’t know what to do with it. You know what to do with it now; you bring it up to the hand he has on your cheek, closing your fingers over the top of his.

“What exactly would I need to use my pretty head to figure out?”

“Fuck sake…”

“Come on, darlin’, use your words.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah - fucking c’mere.”

You would’ve laughed at him if you had time (and if you hadn’t been so shocked), but his lips latch onto yours before you can think about anything else. He’s so gentle with you, the hand that was on your waist comes up into your hair. He grips it softly, smiling to himself as you moan quietly.

Before you know it, it’s over. He pulls away from you, but he’s still so close you can hardly look at his face properly.

“I fucking hate you.” You sigh.

“Think that kiss would say otherwise, sweetheart.”

“Matthew, mate, honestly get fucked.”

“Waited 15 years but can’t wait another couple hours? My, my, my.”

“Will you fuck off?” You laugh, not meaning a single syllable of it.

“Never, darlin’. Stuck with me now.”

He kisses you softly again, smiling sweetly at you as he pulls away.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

#matty healy x reader #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x you #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 fic #the 1975 #haven’t written fic in a hot minute won’t lie #uh been at this one since like july so i hope you enjoy?#my writing

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envysparkler · 20 days

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Jason might’ve mentioned a passing interest in meeting Robin—the old Robin, because he was going to be the new Robin, only judging from the low, furious conversation and the death glares, Bruce hadn’t exactly mentioned that to Nightwing—but he wasn’t expecting Bruce to leave him alone with the guy.

“Justice League emergency,” Bruce had interrupted, cutting off Dick’s half-hearted tour of the parts of the Cave Jason hadn’t explored, and disappeared through a zeta tube with a simple behave for Jason and a growled watch over him for Dick. Leaving Jason with the guy that spent the entire visit seething in unconcealed distaste.

Alfred wasn’t home, he had left on one of his rare days off, or perhaps he was aware of the cloud of tension that formed whenever Dick and Bruce got too close to each other, and Jason understood that heroes and emergencies were a part of life, but he didn’t enjoy that that meant that Jason and Dick were left alone in the abruptly resoundingly empty Cave.

“Right,” Dick muttered, not quite under his breath, “I don’t know why I ever expect anything different.” The bitterness was palpable. “Two and half goddamn hours, and he leaves to space.”

Jason shrunk back slightly. It had been clear from the start that this visit was not for him, and his desire to meeting the original Robin had fast dwindled in favor of getting out of ground zero before Bruce and Dick actually started yelling.

Dick blew out a sharp breath and turned on his heel, suddenly enough that Jason flinched. Dick froze, staring at him like he’d forgotten that Jason existed. Jason couldn’t read the expression on his face, and didn’t think he wanted to.

“Jason,” Dick said, carefully pronouncing his name. His blue eyes were sharp and cold. “So. New Robin, huh.” His face stretched into a smile that looked warm for all that it was plastic.

“Yup,” Jason said, inching back another step. “Uh, it was nice to meet you. I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Where are you going?” Perfectly level, calm and even, but it still forced a chill down his spine.

Jason had been terrified of Batman, but terrified in the way he was of shadows and ghosts. Abstract. Not real. Once Batman had proved himself to be human, all that was left was a man—large and trained and dangerous, but who got scolded by his butler and forgot to put on matching socks and bought Jason a stepstool to reach the books on the tallest shelves.

Bruce wasn’t scary.

Not the way that Richard Grayson seemed to be. Quicksilver manipulation of his expressions, smiling when he didn’t mean it, and cold, cold eyes—Jason wasn’t reminded of monsters or demons. He was reminded of the gang members that watched him ducking into alleys with just a little too much intent, the narrowed eyes of his mother’s dealer, the bright, fake smiles that marked the cops he had to run from.

And Jason was here with him, all alone. Robin—Nightwing—trained and dangerous and currently looking at Jason like he wanted to leave him in pieces for Bruce to find.

Jason had read a book with facts about robins just last week. Robins are territorial birds, and disputes can get physical. Fights to the death often occur.

“Upstairs?” Jason hated the way it turned into a question. “I was reading a book, and—um, I wanted to finish it?”

“We haven’t finished our tour,” Dick said, and Jason had preferred the low-voiced hiss to the casual neutrality. “Come on, there’s lots of cool stuff here I bet Bruce hasn’t shown you yet.”

Jason dithered in place, casting a glance at the stairs—Dick was already walking away, heading for the back of the Cave—but as much as common sense was shrieking at him to stay away, go upstairs, don’t stay down in the dimly lit cave with the guy that hates you, Jason was still the kid that looked at the Batmobile and decided to steal some tires.

“Fine,” Jason said, hurrying up to match Dick’s pace. “But I don’t know what you can show me that Bruce hasn’t already.”

“Oh,” Dick’s expression twitched, something flashing for a second, “You’d be surprised.”

~#~

Jason, mouth agape and neck protesting as he stared up at the acrobatics equipment, was speechless. Dick was breathless and flushed and grinning widely, and fuck, this was what Jason had wanted to see. Not Bruce’s sulky other son, or the cold, dangerous Nightwing, but Robin.

“Bruce showed you that yet?” Dick teased, calling down to him from where he was swinging upside down from the ring.

“How do you do that?” Jason breathed out, too amazed to feign at disinterest. Dick had moved like he was an actual fucking bird, like gravity was for lesser things.

“Practice,” Dick laughed, flipping off from the ring and flopping down on the safety net. Even across the rope, he was all fluidity and grace, flipping once more before he reached the ground.

“Bullshit,” Jason rebutted, looking up at the silks and the ropes and the swings, the scaffolding, the way Dick flew—“Tell me the truth. You’re a meta, aren’t you.”

Dick laughed again, bright and twinkling. He looked much happier than the sullen teenager that had met Bruce’s hesitant hope with a scowl. “Nope, just practice. Grew up in the circus. I could fly before I could run.”

“That’s so cool,” Jason said, looking back up at the scaffolding. “Can you teach me how to do that?” Flying through the air, spinning and flipping without a care in the world, unbound by physical constraints…it sounded like the best thing in the world. It sounded like freedom.

It took him too long to realize that Dick hadn’t responded. He turned towards the older boy and saw Dick stock still, expression frozen in a pinched grimace. When he saw Jason staring at him, he turned away. “Sure,” Dick said, in a voice that wasn’t even remotely believable, and Jason flushed at the reminder that Dick didn’t want him here. “Maybe later. You need a lot of training first. How about you show me what Bruce is teaching you so far?”

There was a bite to the words, and Jason had too much of Gotham in him to not respond to the challenge. “Was that an offer to kick your ass?” Jason retorted, stalking past Dick and towards the sparring area. Need a lot of training first. Well, while perfect Richard Grayson had been growing up in the goddamn circus, Jason had been living on the streets. He knew how to fight. “I’m ready when you are, Dick.”

That cold smile was back, like Dick was trying to figure out just where he wanted to stick the knife, and Jason thrummed impatiently on the balls of his feet as Dick slowly made his way to the sparring area.

#my snippets #dick&jay #first meeting

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grippingbeskar · 2 years

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try to relax

bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ minors dni. (fingering, fxm intercourse, dirty talk) drug use (don’t do drugs kids) and kinda dub-con because drugs. this is a FIC okay fictional. FAKE. swearing. one mention of death, tiny illusion to bucky’s sad little life but he’s fine now okay.

a/n: i honestly don’t know how good this is but i’m just happy to have finished SOMETHING these past two weeks. ding dong eat this!!!!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You need to chill the fuck out.” You say from your spot against the wall. Even watching him was stressing you out, your eyes tracking him back and forth as he paces the room you have both been stuck in for the last 3 hours.

“And you need to take this more seriously.” He takes a break from walking in a straight line to run a hand through his hair, peaking out the window for the hundredth time.

“They aren’t coming. Not for a while, at least.” Your head rolls back, the hunched position making you ache everywhere, but you didn’t have anywhere else to go with Bucky’s pacing.

“How would you know? You’ve been sitting there half asleep on your ass for hours while everyone else is probably searching for us.” He was so worked up— had been all day. This mission had gone wrong the minute the two of you had been paired up. Secure the perimeter, that was all you had to do. It was simple, but you and Bucky were anything but.

You don’t know when it started; it had to of been in the past few months when you started helping Steve out with a few lower level drug guys that turned out to be linked to Hydra. You never thought drug-dealing would turn out to lead to a promotion like this— staking out a building with an Avenger, but now here you were, and Bucky seemed to hate it from the start. Hated you too, probably.

There was just something about you that didn’t mesh well with him. It could be the way he never seemed to take a breath for one second, constantly either in a state of combat or some sort of depressive episode. Either way, the two of you worked well together— as a working team, that is. Even if it was paired with constant bickering that made the entire team rip out the comms in there ears.

Bucky just made you feel… things. You didn’t know why you always bickered with him, always found an excuse to talk to him, even if it was to argue. You were just drawn to him in a way you didn’t understand, but it was best you didn’t. He certainly didn’t feel anything but mild irritation. Maybe more than mild.

“Look, they are either still trying to clear out the building across the street, orrrrr… they are all dead and we are next. Either way there’s nothing we can do about it right now, so you might as well get comfortable.”

“Our friends could be dead, and you want to get comfortable?”

“Your friends. My co-workers.” You drag your backpack over to you, using it as a pillow before laying down on the floor, preparing for a long night. The area Steve and Natasha were covering was huge, and now that you and Bucky had been locked in this room before you could finish your sweep, you were stuck here until they met up with you on the other side. “They aren’t dead, James. Without any super powered help though, it’s going to take them hours to even figure out we are still here. So chill out.”

Bucky sighed, but he had exhausted every way possible to get out of this room. There was a window, and if he was alone, he would take his chance and jump, but it was way too far for you, and Steve would kill him if he left you here. That’s the excuse he told himself, at least.

In reality, he didn’t want to leave you. You were the first person he’d had a connection with other than Steve in decades. Sure, you hated his guts and found him annoying, but you talked to him. Didn’t look at him like he was some kind of monster. You were never afraid of him, talking back at him like he was just another person, not a super soldier who could kill you in less than a second. You were also an ex-drug dealer, though, so maybe he shouldn’t value your opinion as much as he does.

The little fight he had about getting out of here drops out when his back hits the opposite wall to you, sliding down now that his body feels heavy with exhaustion. It had been a long day, and even if this mission was cut short, hanging around you all day always sucked the energy out of him. It was like adrenaline pumped him awake when he was with you—that was probably why you thought he was so strung out all the time. It was just you that made him nervous, put him on edge.

“I can practically hear you thinking.” You were staring at him, watching how his metal hand and the real one linked behind his neck as he leaned back. Yeah, he might hate you, but fuck if he didn’t look good doing it. His hair was getting a little longer now, fading around the nape of his neck, and you tried to look away but his eyes caught you like a snare, pulling you in.

“What?”

“You’re stressing me out. Take a Xanax or something, you need to just… relax.” He rolls his eyes, stretching his legs out in front of him.

“Of course you would tell me to take a fucking pill.” He shakes his head, and you shrug. “Your whole bag is probably full of shit to offload, huh?”

“One, I’m offended. I’ll have you know I’ve gone straightened arrow thanks to my new, well paying job. Two, this is my personal stash, and you’re lucky to be offered anything at this rate.” He scoffs, and for a second he thinks your bluffing— you must be. No one in their right mind would pack for a mission anything but the essentials; ammo, ropes, necessary supplies. Drugs were out of the question, why would anyone ever— “But, since we’re stuck here, it’s your lucky day.”

You reach into the side pocket of your bag, and pull out one small tin. It’s the size of your palm, and when you open it, the room is instantly filled with a smell that Bucky knows too well.

“Seriously? You brought a blunt on a fucking recon mission?” He nearly laughs. “You have to be kidding. You know Fury would kill you for that.”

“Well, technically it’s medicinal. And in the state of New York, it’s almost the same as carrying a firearm— legal as long as you have the right paperwork, which we do.” You pull out a lighter, and shuffle over on your knees to sit closer to him. He must be high already, because the sight of you coming closer, on your knees has his breath hitching in his throat. You reach out, offering him the tin.

“I’m not smoking.” You take the tin back, looking up at him through your lashes before lighting one end and inhaling deeply. Your eyes flutter shut, and he knows he’s watching you too intently, but your eyes are closed, and he lets himself indulge for one more second before looking out the window, hoping for a distraction from the way you have him feeling.

“Suit yourself.” You lay down, spreading yourself out on the floor as you bring the blunt back to your mouth. Your eyes cross as you watch yourself exhale, letting the heavy smoke fan out in the small space around you. “You know you could really use it, though.”

“I’ve had enough of people fucking with my head. I don’t need to do it to myself.” You sit up on your elbows, your hair sliding over your shoulder as you turn to look at him.

“This is weak as shit. With your super soldier blood, you probably won’t even get high, but if you don’t want it, I’m not gonna make you.” You weren’t feeling any of the effects yet, so the look of sincerity in your eyes almost makes Bucky feel a little bare. “I get it. Not wanting to fuck yourself up.”

“Yeah.” He manages to get out, watching at you inhale again. The room feels ten degrees hotter, and your chest puffs out just a little when you smoke. Bucky tucks his legs up to bend them.

“You drink like a fucking sailor though. Constantly. This—“ You wave the blunt in the air, smiling a little. “—this is much healthier.”

“Oh? Healthier? Must be why it’s illegal.”

“Medicinal.” You purr, looking at him again with a spark in your eye.

“I don’t get drunk.” You turn to face him then, still laying down, and the curve of your hip is exposed with how your shirt rides up. Bucky coughs, looking out the window again.

“Why do you drink so much, then?”

“Medicinal.” You grin lazily, flopping your head to one side, and then a light giggle comes out of your mouth, and Bucky is pretty sure he’s breathing in too much of your second hand smoke with how fast his heart is beating, despite the fact it’s all flying out the open window.

“You’re funny. Why didn’t I know you were funny?” You lay back down, exhaling more smoke and watching a little bit of ash fall off the end of the blunt.

“Too busy yellin’ at me.”

“Yeah, well if you didn’t go out of your way to piss me off so much, I wouldn’t yell.” Another few rings of smoke hover above you, and the more you smoke, the more intrigued he is with the effect it has on you, and what it would do to him.

“I don’t try to do that.” Bucky says, a little more defensive than he meant.

“Must be your natural charm, then. That or you just really hate my guts.” You say it jokingly, but there’s a tinge of truth behind it. You think he hates you? Sure, you argue, but he argues with everyone. It’s practically a personality trait. After a long silence, he finally finds the mind to say something.

“I don’t. Hate you.” His hands nervously tap against his knees. “If we’re being honest, I actually always kind of liked you. Even if you did piss me off all the time.”

“Aww. You like me!” You chirp in a sing-song tone and he scoffs, dropping his head to hide the stupid smile that makes his eyes light up. “That’s so sweet.”

“Yeah? I’ll take it back. No one’ll believe you; you’re high as shit.” You start laughing harder, proving his point.

“Well, there you go. Only took us being locked in a room for three hours, and now we’re best buds.” You laugh at your own joke, and Bucky shakes his head, only smiling because you were.

Inhaling again, the paper in your hand is nearly burnt out, and you relight it before sucking in one more time, and snuffing out the flame on the ground. The muscles in your shoulders nearly sink into the ground, and your eyes close, sighing.

“You okay?” He asks quietly after a few minutes, and you smile, keeping your eyes shut.

“Never better, Buck.” The nickname makes him straighten. You hardly ever call him Bucky, only James. He likes it a little too much; the way you say it. He sees how relaxed you are, how easy words come to you the longer you sit with the drug in your system, and he wants to feel that relaxed. Since he came back from Wakanda, he doesn’t think he’s had a second of feeling as relaxed as you are now. He was constantly wondering what was around the corner, terrified of his own mind, and even though he knew he was free, there was always going to be that thing in the back of his mind that told him to stay alert. Stay tense.

“What’s it feel like?” He hates how fucking young he sounds, but it’s an experience he’s never had. He didn’t do shit like that when he was young— never had a chance to. He was straight into the army, and the only thing he ever smoked was cigarettes.

“Warm.” You hum. For a second he thought you were asleep with how still you were. “Feels better the longer you wait.”

“Thought your tolerance would be better for a drug dealer.” He teases.

“I don’t use a lot. Never did.” You suck in a long, clean breath, and finally open your eyes again.

“Why not?”

“I gotta be with the right people. I don’t want my head all messed up around the people I was with. Need to trust them.”

“And you trust me?”

“Of course I do. I would of died a hundred times over if it wasn’t for you.” Sure, the two of you may not agree, and most of the time argue about it, but you trusted him a hell of a lot more than anyone you sold with. More than anyone, really. His eyes linger on the joint in your hand, and you raise an eyebrow. “You curious?”

“Kind of.”

“Really?” He shrugs, looking around the empty room. The sun was starting to set, washing you over in a hue of orange. There was literally nothing else to do right now. “Okay. You done this before?”

“I’m 106 years old.” He deflects, and you squint at him. “No, I haven’t.”

You laugh, sitting up and bringing your lighter in your right hand. You shuffle over on your knees, and you get a little closer than you need but Bucky lets you. Widening his legs, he lets you lean against the inside of one of his thighs.

You feel high as a fucking kite, and it’s not even the blunt that’s making you all lightheaded. Bucky smells so fucking good, and this close you can nearly sink into him. He’s watching you intently, eyes tracking when your hands fiddle with the paper and lighter, and as you bring it to his lips, he stares into your eyes when his parts his mouth.

“So, what you wanna do is—“

“Yeah, yeah. Light it.” He says, the blunt muffling his words as he leans forward. His chest presses against your side and you feel him breathe in, the small flame of the lighter licking at the twisted end.

He takes a long, deep breath and holds it for a couple seconds, staring at you with slightly widened eyes. You wait for it— the realisation it’s too much too quick, and in the next moment he’s coughing practically into your lap, turning away and snatching your water out of your hands.

“Jesus. You really are old.” He was still coughing, trying to swallow some water, but after he got a couple breaths back in he was smiling with you. Head resting back on the wall, grinning from ear to ear. “You good?”

“Yeah. Yeah, just been a while since I smoked anything.” You nod, taking a hit of your own. The familiar burn keeps the warmth spreading in your chest, and you can feel how hot your face is getting, the warmth of Bucky’s body heat making you want to reach out and grab him.

Okay— you needed to cool down. Clearly, being near Bucky was making you delirious, because the thoughts you could usually shut down were the same ones you couldn’t stop thinking about. How warm his mouth would feel, how easy it would be to curl into his chest and sleep this stupid mission away.

“Can I?” His metal hand gently drags the joint from your mouth as you nod slowly, staring up at him. You watch, enthralled at how he makes it look so good. He shuts his eyes, concentrating on the feeling of breathing and the honeyed feeling slipping into his chest. It was the closest thing you’d seen to pure perfection— how his hair fell, how his metal hand looked so careful, even though you knew what it could really do. Your eyes must nearly have hearts in them, you were staring with that much intent.

Bucky, on the other hand, was on cloud fucking nine. Two drags in and he could feel that warm, sleepy high you were talking about. He was worried about… well, something, at some point he thinks, but honestly he couldn’t hold onto a single thought other than the way you were looking at him right now. It was the drugs, he reasoned, but Jesus, he couldn’t help it. You were so close, and your eyes were so wide…

Wordlessly, the two of you share the second blunt, passing it between you with a few small laughs if Bucky chokes. You show him a few dumb smoke tricks you picked up along the way, and he fails miserably trying to copy them. Eventually the paper burns through and you snuff it out on the wall, letting your head fall back on the top of Bucky’s knee.

“Damn.” He says now that he’s sat in the feeling for a while. “You were right.”

“Huh?”

“Feels… good. The longer you wait.” You hum, smiling, and his face falls when you turn your head to look up at him. Wind blows through the crack in the window, and no matter how warm the weed is making you feel, you still shiver as it crosses over you. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just… wind is cold.” He blows out a breath, head flopping to the side to squint at the window, almost like he’d forgotten it was there.

“We are high up. Gonna get colder tonight.” Neither of you expected an overnight mission, and you hadn’t even packed a jacket. “Come here.”

“What?”

“I’m cold, too. Come closer.” Arms outstretched, he looks way too inviting. It was James, though… and up until about three hours ago, you thought he hated you. Now, he wanted to… cuddle?

“James.”

“Don’t say my name like that.” He pouts. Like a four year old.

“Like what?”

“Like you hate me.” You shook your head, hair falling over your now heated cheeks. Feeling like you had to prove him wrong, like you had to make it up to him, and also like the only place you wanted to be was tucked into his giant frame, in one movement you spin around and lean into him, your back pressing against his chest. You sigh, sinking into the feeling of him pressed to your feverish skin, every exhale dropping you further and further down in his lap. His arms wrap around your waist, and you can feel his nose on the skin at the back of your neck.

“S’better, yeah?” His voice is gravely and low, the heat of his words brushing against the shell of your ear.

“Yeah. It’s good.” Your eyes were a little heavy, but you had never felt more awake. Bucky’s hands were fanned out on your stomach, holding you a little tighter now that he knew you wanted to stay.

“You smell nice.” His head is pressed against the back of yours, and the comment breaks you out into a fit of laughter, because of course he would say that.

“You would think so. It’s your shampoo I use.” You feel his laughter on the back of your neck, and it’s then that you somehow notice the sun has completely disappeared from the window. “Shit, Buck. What time is it?”

“Dunno.”

“We… we should try the comms again. See if Steve can hear us.” Bucky makes a noise, maybe agreement, or maybe he’s just humming a tune, but one of his arms skates along your side to reach for his pocket, and he holds out the comm to your ear, pressing the receiver.

After a few tries, you give up. It’s clear your going to be stuck here all night, but with the way you are now, you don’t really give a shit.

“Nothin��.” You say and he chucks the comm to the other side of the room, pulling you closer as he threads his metal arm back around your waist. “And you said I needed to take this more seriously.”

“I am being very…” His lips brush against the hot skin of your collarbone “..very serious right now.”

“Bucky…” He hums again, the vibration on your skin sinking all the way through your body. “You’re… friendly—when your high.”

“I’m always friendly.” Fuck— the way he says it, he’s not even trying to but it makes your toes curl in your shoes. You don’t say anything, just let his head press into the crook of your neck, like he’s using you to hold himself up. He probably feels as weighed down as you do, all your limbs feeling like weights now. After a bit of silence, he picks his head up. “I like this.”

“You like it?” He nods, the few curls on his forehead tickling under your jaw. “Well, I can get you some if you—“

“Not the drugs. You.” A noise erupts from your throat, somewhere between a gasp and a pathetic whimper.

“You’re just high, Buck.” It makes you a little angrier than it should— he gets to say stuff like that now cause he’s all fucked up, but then he’s gonna go right back to his old self when this wears off in a couple of hours, and you hate that he can make you feel all these things with a few sweet words. As hard as it is, you slide out of his hold, and he frowns, head falling back to lean on the wall again.

“M’not.” He moans, shuffling up slightly.

“Yes, you are. Let me see your eyes.” Bucky lets his head fall forward dramatically, and now you’re on your knees in front of him, you can see how flushed his face is, and his eyes are bloodshot. “You’re high as fuck.”

“So?”

“So, you’re talking out of your ass. You don’t get to say things like that then take them back when your heads clear.” It comes out a little more bitter than you planned, and you shove yourself backward, putting more space between you two. It didn’t matter how much you wanted it— he was fucked, and would never want you sober.

“What? Wait… give me a second.” He rubs his eyes, and shakes his head in this totally endearing way that makes you want to slide back over in his arms, but you keep your hands cemented to the floor. “That’s not— I wouldn’t take it back. I do… like you.”

“Why are you saying that like it leaves a bad taste in your mouth?” He swallows and blinks slowly, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. If you weren’t so high right now, you might be more upset with him. Or more… reactive, in another way. Instead you just sit and watch him blink at you, nearly being able to hear the cogs slowly turning in his brain.

“No, I just... Jesus, you are so complicated.” Your jaw hangs open, and it’s you that gets a little closer this time.

“Me? I’m complicated?”

“Yes. Complicated.” He pronounces every syllable of the word, a slight smirk on his face. “You act like you hate me most days, but you always look at me like...”

“Like what?”

“Like you want me. Bad.” That wipes the expression off your face, and you can’t tell if it’s the drugs in your system or just the effect Bucky has on you, but you struggle to get a proper breath in. “Like maybe you want me as bad as I want you, and for some reason you don’t want to admit it.”

“Bucky.” You say, and it was meant to have some kind of warning in it, but it comes out more as a whimper. He was reading your mind, all those times you rolled your eyes at him, started an argument just so he would get angry at you and focus on you; you could blame the weed as much as you wanted, but even stone cold sober Bucky would be able to get you to give in this easy.

“Tell me you haven’t thought about it. Even once.” He shuffles forward on his knees, towering over you.

“You don’t want me to answer that.”

“Yeah, I do. Really bad.” He’s closer now, and you can smell the faint remains of his cologne. It’s nearly intoxicating. Your back was pressing against the wall, and you weakly kick out a leg into his chest, stopping him from getting closer. It’s the last thing you want, but Bucky stops, sinking back on his heels.

“You don’t. You aren’t thinking clearly.” His shoulders slump, and the way his eyes are all wide and puppy dog like, you can’t figure out if you should just let him do whatever he wants to you or splash water in his face. The only reason you haven’t jumped on him yet is because this must be the weed. It has to be, because there’s no way in hell Buck actually wants you. He’s just cold, horny, probably, but he doesn’t want you. He doesn’t even like you…

“Nothing I haven’t thought a hundred times before.” Bucky whispers, staying where he is opposite you. “Think about it too much, probably. All the time.”

“Think about what?” He smiles then, like he could almost see the last bit of your rational brain fly out the small crack of the window. He moves, not on top of you like you hoped he’d try, but next to you, exhaling as he relaxes against the wall. His shoulder presses into yours, and his head flops to the side nearly resting on you.

“Think about how you always piss me off. Like you do it on purpose.” The anxiety you were feeling starts to fade away, and the calming effects of the drug set in, making your eyes flutter shut as you smile. “Makes me think you just do it to get my attention.”

“You wish.” He’s right, reading you like an open fucking book, and even with his inebriated state he knows it. He looks up at you, grinning ear to ear, and you shove him. Not hard enough to get him off you, though.

“I’m not saying anything I don’t mean. I’ve never hated you. Never not wanted you.” He blows past the admission, stretching his legs out and moving so the entire length of his body was pressing against the side of yours. But it’s not lost on you. It’s almost like you’re dreaming— everything you never thought you’d hear is laid out in front of you, and your heart nearly stops at the thought of taking it.

“Wanted me, huh?” You deflect and he nods, still staring at you. “You have a shit way of showing it.”

“I haven’t got the best game nowadays. It’s been… a while.” Both of you laugh a little harder than necessary, and now you really feel it. That familiar buzz… it’s taken a little longer to set in, but now there’s not a thought in your brain other than the way Bucky’s head was resting on your shoulder, and his nose was grazing the skin just under your jaw. “Let me make it up to you.”

“You know this isn’t what I had in mind when I said you needed to chill out.” You suck in a sharp breath when his hand comes up under your jaw, two long fingers angling your head up just right, so your lips would melt together if he moved half an inch forward.

“That’s not a bad thing, right?” He says it so soft, and his eyes flutter closed, letting you make the call. You stare at him for a second, trying to find any part of your blissed out head that would take the moral high ground. “Cause I would be very, very relaxed if you kissed me right now.”

“Bucky…” His eyes open, keeping his hand on your jaw. “I don’t want to kiss you if you’ll go back to hating me tomorrow.”

“I never hated you.” His hand slides back, fingers threading in your hair and he shakes his head. “I want this if you do.”

“You know I do.” You whisper, and he hums, eyes darting between your mouth and his hands in your hair.

“S’fucking pretty, too. Always thought that.” The compliment makes you lose your edge, and you stutter through your sentences, trying to be the rational one— but let’s face it, he’s got you wrapped around one metal fucking finger.

“You aren’t— Bucky. I’m… we can’t. You are off your face—“

“I’m a fucking super soldier. One joint doesn’t make me want you any less.” Both of his hands hold you, his eyes wide. It’s like he’s suddenly awake, proving a point that if he concentrates, he’s still able to think clearly. “I want you. Now and tomorrow. After that.”

“After that?” You smile and laugh, and he brushes his nose against yours.

“Do you want this, doll?” You blink a few times and nod quickly, not wanting him to mistake your sluggishness for hesitation, and he leans forward. The buzzing of adrenaline is mixing with the warmth from the joint, and you know it’s going to happen, because he’s never someone you could say no to. When he finally kisses you it’s soft, electricity almost zapping if he wasn’t pressing against you so lightly.

It only lasts about three seconds and he pulls away, smiling like a kid before his metal arm wraps around your back and slides you over his lap. Both of you breathe in sync, sucking in air before colliding your lips again. It’s still slow, but harder this time, Bucky’s hand pulling your hair a little as he makes a fist, trying to hold onto something— anything to ground him.

Maybe it’s the fact your both in the clouds, or it’s the built up tension from months of bickering and side eye glances, but one roll of your hips has both of you panting, and you swear if you just get a little more friction you could finish right in his lap, him only needing to tug on your hair a little harder.

“Bucky.” You moan like it’s a curse word, and he growls into your mouth, pulling you tighter. Your movements aren’t controlled, your brain so foggy that you aren’t sure you can really feel your fingertips and how hard they might be digging into the strong lines of Bucky’s neck, but he’s just as gone as you are, and you both revel in the unhinged desperation that has you both pulling— pleading with the other to give in.

“Baby, baby…” He sighs, and kisses down your neck. His teeth scrape along the skin, nipping lightly, the warmth of his mouth following in a soothing apology. “Tell me you want me like I want you. Don’t want you to hate me for this.”

“Never fucking hated you, Bucky. Just…” You roll your hips again and let out the most pathetic sound you think you’ve ever made, the drugs only making everything feel slower and a hundred times better. “I want you. Want you now.”

Your hands slip between your bodies, and Bucky bites harder than he wanted to on your collarbone when you palm him roughly through his jeans.

“Fuck. Sorry, baby.” He kisses over the spot, now destined to leave a mark, but the way you bummed when he did it makes him think you like it.

“It’s okay. You feel good.” You say, breathless and voice heavy with need. He has to stop himself from tearing your pants open and shoving himself inside of you then and there, but the weed and the fact you were finally letting him touch you like this makes him want to draw this out. Make you wait; have it nice and slow like you deserve. “Buck. Please, need you to—“

“Shh. I’ll take care of you.” He mumbles into your ear, feeling you shiver as both of his hands drop to rest on your upper thighs. He squeezes, forcing you to relax, although your limbs already feel like jelly. Then they slide upward, tugging at the button of your jeans and pulling them down. “You trust me?”

Nodding again, you both move at the same time. It’s awkward and fumbling, you trying to keep your hands on him while the both of you try to undress, and you feel so lightheaded that when Bucky swears under his breath while yanking your pants over your knees, you can’t help but laugh between the moments Buckys mouth isn’t on yours. He smiles back, you know even though your eyes are shut, and suddenly you don’t feel trapped in this room at all.

Your bare knees hit the cold hardwood floor and you sigh, putting the rest of your weight on top of Bucky. He sucks in a breath, one arm wrapping around your lower back, the cool metal making you flinch slightly. He notices, and goes to let you go, but you just shake your head.

“Don’t. I like it there.” Your eyes flutter open to find his own staring right at you, and when you talk he gets a lazy smile, his face relaxing before his real hand reaches up to your face and kisses you again.

“You like it?” He whispers, moving down to kiss your neck and you nod. “Good. That’s good. What about this?”

His mouth moves lower while his other hand does the same, resting on your hip and pushing you down a little harder.

“Yeah.” You breath, threading your fingers through his hair. You tug lightly and he groans, the sound making you smile. You can’t count how many times you’d imagined your hands in his hair. His hand lets go of your hip, rough pads of his fingers tracing lightly over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. He traces the outline of your underwear, the gentle touch sending shivers up your spine and making it hard to get a full breath in. You press into him harder, the haziness in your mind pin pointed to the burst of pleasure rushing through you at the feeling.

“Let me help you, baby.” His words are a little slurred, and he moves slowly, but there’s nothing hesitant in the way his hand slips under the thin, ruined fabric of your underwear and draws slow, tight circles on your clit. You choke out a moan that’s lost in his mouth, body slumping forward as your head falls into the crook of his neck. “There you go. Good girl— good fucking girl.”

“Oh god—“ You moan, and he doesn’t get faster, just keeps that same slow, controlled pace.

“That’s it. Just relax— let me… shit, wanna hear how good I’m making you feel.” You don’t think you could possibly be more relaxed right now, feeling Bucky in all the right places.

He kisses along your jaw, letting his tongue dart out and teeth drag lightly over the spots that make you gasp. There isn’t a spot he hasn’t explored, the attention making you feverish and your eyes squeeze even tighter shut than you thought possible.

Your back arches and he grins against your skin, feeling your fingers grab his hair desperately and hearing you get louder and louder. His metal arm gripped your hip tight— forcing you to go at his pace, a slow staggering towards the building pleasure unfurling low in your stomach. When he kisses you again, head finally pulling back to your lips, it’s short and has you chasing his mouth.

“Wanna see those pretty eyes you when you cum. Look at me.” On command, you open your eyes, finding his gaze all too consuming. “There she is. You close, baby? Wanna cum around my fingers?”

Nodding, you cry out as he slides one finger inside of you, the wetness letting him open you up embarrassingly easily. He hums, almost smiling proudly, and you fight every instinct in your body to keep your eyes open and on him, because he told you so.

Everything halts for a second— you feel all your muscles contract and it’s almost like you’re falling, Bucky’s eyes burning into yours. He holds you closer, forehead pressing against you, and then pleasure overrides all of your senses. He guides you through it, his pace drawing out your release for as long as possible, still that slow, strong force that has you seeing literal stars even though you know you are looking at his eyes. The drug only heightens the sensation, feeling warmth and weightlessness like you never have before.

“Fuck. You’re so pretty.” You moan in response, feeling his index finger brush past your clit again as he slides away from your entrance. Heaving breaths return the oxygen to your brain, and you pull him into a bruising kiss, shaking fingers slipping under the fabric of his boxers.

You hear Bucky suck in a sharp breath when your hands skim lower, pulling his boxers down ever so slowly. He couldn’t figure out what to look at— your hands, soft and gentle, brushing against parts of his skin he’s not sure anyone this decade would of seen, or your face, the lazy smile and the way you bite your lip when you see how fucking hard he is for you just from hearing you say his name. Your hand brushes against him, lightly; teasing, and you smile a little wider when he lurches forward.

“Relax.” You say mockingly and he shakes his head, pulling your mouth back to his. Your bodies move in sync now, him shuffling down as you move up, and the kiss is only broken by a pleasured gasp from both of you as he slowly slides inside of you. “Oh, fuck—“

“You feel so good.” Bucky whines into the crook of your neck. He doesn’t move just yet, giving you time to adjust and only shifting your hips so you can take the weight off your legs. “Can feel how tight you are.”

“Bucky… please. Need you.” The feeling of him moaning against your skin makes your spine shiver.

“Alright, sweetheart. Stay nice and still for me, yeah?” Nodding, he shifts his hips, driving deeper inside of you and your mouth hangs open as fireworks shoot off in your stomach. His pace is slow at first, but Bucky doesn’t have the control he did with his hands. Not when he can feel you reacting to every move he makes, feel how you tighten around him when he talks to you— “Tell me how it feels.”

“Really… really good, Buck.” He looks up, not able to do anything but admire the way your head falls back, exposing all the little marks and bruises he’s made against your soft skin. “F-faster. Please.”

“Wrap your arms around me.” He can’t smell the weed anymore, just the intoxicating scent of you as your arms link behind his neck, kissing his forehead before he speeds up, feeling all that pent up anger and stress chin away with each passing second. “God, that’s it.”

He was too far gone now, being buried in you the strongest high he’s felt in his entire life— you were too sweet, too fucking tempting and good to him, he couldn’t even think about how wrong this was right now, all he could think about was how god damn good you made him feel, and how you were saying his name over and over like it meant something to you. Saying it with none of that hate and bite, no attitude, just pure fucking pleasure, and that thought pulled him over the edge.

“Buckyyy…” You whined again, jaw slack, and he could feel you were close too. Another few seconds and he’d be right there with you, and he wanted it more than he’d let himself admit.

“Hold on. Little bit longer.” He grunted into your mouth, one hand holding your jaw.

“I can’t… please—“

“Yes you can. So fucking stubborn. You can.” He kisses you softly and your eyebrows furrow in concentration— so fucking good to him—“Almost, baby. Doin’ so fucking good.”

He tightens his metal arm around your waist, moving your body into his so hard your nails dig into the flesh of his neck, and a choked whimper comes out of him before he can stop it.

“Gonna cum, okay? Wanna feel you first though… please.” The softness of his voice is what hurls you over for the second time, your body collapsing into Bucky’s strong arms.

You feel his abs tense under his shirt as he cums, the warmth of him filling you so deep you can’t imagine feeling anything else for days. You kiss him again, and his mouth falls open, wide and all consuming, pulling you in so deep you have no choice but to let him take what he wants, what he needs— and fuck, you are glad to give it to him.

There’s nothing cold about the way he holds you now, the open window blowing in a breeze from the now pitch black night, but Bucky’s arms are tight around your waist, and he’s still buried inside of you, panting with his face pressed to your skin. He’d catch his breath faster if he wasn’t constantly kissing along your collarbone, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Buck—”

“Don’t move yet. Just a lil’ longer.” You feel metal fingers grazing the line of your spine, running up and down in tentative lines.

You weren’t really going to tell him to move. You were going to say something about how the comm he threw had been flashing for twenty minutes, indicating someone was trying to reach the two of you, but couldn’t get through because neither of you were on the other line. You pick your head up off his shoulder, pushing him back gently to look in his eyes. His head falls against the wall, a grin spread on his face that makes him look a hundred years younger.

“Why are you smiling?” He laughs, slowly looking down your body to where you were still connected, his hands now resting firmly on your hips.

“Just… happy?” The rooms silence is broken up with your scoff and more of his laughter, the sound only making you feel even lighter. He gives your hips a light squeeze, and you open your eyes again. “Been thinking about this for months. You. You’re why I’m smiling.”

Kissing him again felt like the most relaxing thing in the world, and when he flipped you on your back, you shoved your backpack over the comm link, covering the flashing light and leaving the two of you in darkness.

#bucky x female reader #bucky x yn #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x oc #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fiction #the winter solider smut #the winter solider x reader #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you

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unfinishedslurs · 1 year

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prophetic nightmares of the dead (steddie)

Eddie’s been dreaming of dying.

It started his first round of senior year, some kind of prophetic fuck-up from his brain. No one knows except Wayne. Wayne gets it, kinda, from his time in ‘Nam. Knows how vivid nightmares can get, knows all the tricks to waking up and remembering you’re alive.

“It’s that damn music,” he mutters to make Eddie laugh through tears, after Eddie’s woken him up again with his shrieking and stumbling out of his room. “Or that game. Your imagination is vivid enough without you feeding it, boy.”

“You’re right,” Eddie responds unsteadily. “No more of that devil shit for me. I’m going on the straight and narrow. From now on it’ll be…fucking church hymns and songs about the Lord.”

Wayne hums in absent agreement, still rubbing Eddie’s back. The glass of cold water sits heavy in his hands. He takes a drink.

It was practically routine.

He got better at waking up silently, at not running to his uncle after the fourth, seventh, twentieth nightmare in a row. Avoided sleeping at all, showed up to school with bags under his eyes and cranky as all hell. His grades dropped lower than ever, Wayne got more and more concerned, and Eddie kept dying every night.

The Queen of Hawkins High wasn’t the person he was expecting to understand his predicament.

“Do you ever feel like you’re losing your mind?”

“Um, you know, just... on a daily basis.” He smiles, tries to make her laugh. Every day until I get out of this damned town.

Slowly, he wheedles it out of her.

“I keep having these dreams,” she admits. “Nightmares. Every night, for years. It’s always…it’s always the same.”

A chill goes down his spine.

“I’m sorry, I sound crazy.”

“No, no, no,” he scrambles to reassure her. “Keep going, it’s okay. Safe space, right? It’s just me, you, and the trees here.”

She nods, unsteady. “There’s…a monster. And he…he’s after me. And when he catches me, I always…the dream always ends with me…” She raises a trembling hand to her eyes, not bothering to wipe away her tears. Almost like she’s checking if they’re still there.

His blood runs cold.

“Dying,” he whispers. Chrissy lets out a sob. “Every night, since ‘83, you’ve dreamed of dying.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because it’s me, too, Chrissy.” He jumps up, pacing in circles. “I…every single night, since that Byers kid went missing. It’s not the same as yours but this is…this is fucking crazy, what are the odds—oof!”

Chrissy has barreled into his chest, clinging to him with her arms around his neck. He can feel the collar of his t-shirt getting damp.

“Uh,” he stammers as she sniffles into his shirt. His hands hover around her, not sure what to do until he settles them around her back. “There, there?” He tries to soothe. It’s not very soothing, with the way his voice shakes. “It’s okay.”

“Something’s wrong with me,” she gasps. “It’s following me. I keep seeing things when I’m awake, my mother and a clock and a monster—“

“Shit,” he says, a sinking feeling in his chest. He’s not exactly superstitious, but he has a feeling there’s more to this than dreams. “Hey, listen, Chrissy, you’re gonna be okay. Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

She just shakes her head, burrows in closer like she can worm into his skin if she tries hard enough. He’s never been hugged like this in his life, and he has no idea what to do with the scared teenager in his arms.

“Here, hold on,” he says, and carefully removes her arms from his neck. She wipes her eyes, looking away.

“I’m sorry, I just…”

“No, no, it’s cool,” he says. “Promise. I just wanted to give you this.”

Fumbling, he drapes his leather jacket over her shoulders. Her cheerleading jacket can’t be very warm, especially combined with the skirt she’s wearing.

She pulls it tight around herself, even though it probably sticks like weed and cigarettes and Eddie’s BO. He’s a little too preoccupied to be embarrassed about that right now, though.

The bell rings, signaling the end of class. Chrissy startles like a scared rabbit, dread coloring her whole face, and Eddie makes a decision.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

Looks like Hellfire’s getting postponed after all.

They make a stop at Family Video, partially to rent a movie or two, but mainly because Henderson never shuts up about Steve fucking Harrington so now Eddie knows exactly where he works. Why the little rich boy is working a dead end job with Keith as his manager is a mystery, but it’s not one he’s interested in uncovering. Hopefully he’s on shift today.

All of Eddie’s shit luck must have worked to make the stars align, because there he is at the counter, in all his ex-kingly glory. He doesn’t look up as the bell rings, apparently focused on whatever he has in hand.

“Welcome to Family Video,” he calls, chewing on a pen. “Let me know if you need help finding anything.”

“Is that Blue Jeans?” Eddie asks, walking up to the counter as Chrissy goes to look through the shelves. Harrington jumps, slamming the magazine shut.

“Hi, what can I get you—Munson?”

“Harrington,” he grins, reveling in the frown he gets in response. Harrington meets his eyes for one startled second before his gaze travels down to his Hellfire shirt, over his vest and bare forearms, and taking in the belt and ripped jeans. Eddie smiles wider. He oh so loves intimidating the jocks and moral majority of this town.

“Shouldn’t you be in school?” Harrington finally asks, eyes jumping back up to meet his gaze.

“That’s actually why I’m here, I need you to pass on a message for me. We’re skipping, and—“

“We?”

“Hey Eddie,” Chrissy says, appearing behind him. She lays three movies on the counter. “I picked some out, I hope that’s okay.”

“Yeah, yeah, ‘course,” he says as Harrington’s eyebrows jut up. Chrissy is still wearing his jacket, and he realizes exactly what this looks like. Shit, is Harrington friends with Carver? They probably have some jock bro code that’s totally going to end in Eddie getting beat up, shit—

“Hey Chrissy,” Harrington says agreeably. “Finally dump Carver?”

She blinks, startled at the insinuation. Her cheeks flush. “Oh, no—“

“It’s not like that,” Eddie breaks in, laughing to cover up the panic he feels. Trying to walk the delicate line between not a queer and not stealing a jock’s girlfriend. “Chrissy here just needs some company.”

Harrington nods, clearly not believing them.

“Seriously,” he presses. “I mean, can you really see a girl like her with a guy like me?”

Chrissy frowns, but Harrington looks him up and down again.

“I mean, yeah,” he says. “But it’s really none of my business, I don’t get paid to care who dates who.”

Eddie blinks. It almost sounds like Harrington was calling him hot or something.

Before he can figure out what Harrington actually meant, he starts scanning the tapes. He pauses on the last one, brow furrowing, before he looks between Eddie and Chrissy with understanding in his eyes. Eddie doesn’t know why the sudden change of heart.

“Rocky Horror Picture Show?”

Shit.

He has to clear his throat. “You have that here?”

They don’t. They shouldn’t. It’s not exactly small town video store material. Eddie had to go to Indianapolis to find it again, he knows damn well it’s not at Family Video in fucking Hawkins.

But the cover stares up at him anyway.

“I found it on one of the shelves,” Chrissy says. “It looked like it doesn’t get checked out a whole lot. Is it any good?”

Eddie braces himself for the slurs. For the bored retail worker to disappear and the Bible thumping, red blooded American to come out. It’s not Chrissy’s fault, she didn’t know any better, but if Harrington knows this movie and now he knows that Eddie knows this movie, there’s some bruises in his near future.

“It’s pretty good,” Harrington says easily. Eddie blinks his eyes open to see him smiling warmly at Chrissy, handing her the tapes. “For a, ah, certain type of people.

Well color him surprised. This is an interesting turn of events.

“I own it,” Eddie blurts out without meaning to. Harrington’s eyes snap to him, widening at the confession. “It’s, uh, hard to find, I had to go out of town for it. That’s why I was surprised.”

“Oh, I guess we don’t need to rent it, then,” Chrissy says, completely unaware of the staring contest that’s happening between him and Harrington.

Harrington looks away first. “Right,” he coughs, and goes to cancel it. Chrissy pulls cash out of her pocket.

“Oh, Chrissy, you don’t need to—“

“Don’t be dumb,” she says. “I picked the movies, I’m paying for them.”

He shrugs, unable to fight the logic in that. He’s not exactly in the mood to spend money right now, anyways, since he’s definitely giving her a discount on the drugs after this.

“What was it you needed me to do?” Harrington asks as he prints the receipt.

“What?”

“You said you had a message.”

“Right,” Eddie says. He completely forgot about that. “You’re going to the game tonight, right?”

“How did you know that?”

“Sinclair said you go to all his games.”

“He talks about me?”

“Dude, those kids never shut the fuck up about you,” Eddie says. “Makes me want to pull my hair out.”

“It’s mutual,” Harrington snorts, looking a bit touched. “Henderson already phoned me to ask to join the campaign, man, I’m not filling in—“

“He asked you?”

“Yeah? Wait, if this isn’t about that, then what is it?”

“Tell Henderson he got his wish,” Eddie says, putting his hands in his pockets. “I’m postponing the campaign.”

“Wait, really? Lucas is going to lose his mind, he was gonna be so bummed if he missed your nerd game—wait, why are you telling me?”

“‘Cause we’re ditching, Harrington, catch up.” Sinclair was excited for the end of his campaign? It makes him feel a little bit guilty, somewhere deep in his nonexistent soul. Oh, well. He’s postponing now.

“I’m going to wait in the car,” Chrissy says, and takes the tapes and Eddie’s keys with her.

“I see what this is,” Harrington says, leaning closer to Eddie and pillowing his chin on his hand. “You got them all riled up, and now you want them to shoot the messenger.”

“You caught me.” He grabs his chest, pretending to be shot. Then he leans forward with a grin. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

“Maybe I won’t tell them, make them wait for the entire time for you to show up. Henderson’ll do it, you know. Then who’ll be in trouble?”

Eddie laughs without meaning to. He doesn’t believe for a second that Harrington will do it, which surprises him. But it seems like Harrington is full of surprises this afternoon.

“So she really hasn’t broken up with him yet?”

“Huh?”

Harrington nods behind him, to where Chrissy is in the van. It seems like she’s playing music, nodding along with a small smile.

“I told you, man, we’re not—“

“That’s not what I meant, it’s just…” he grimaces. “She’s way too good for him. And she’s never seemed…you know. Happy.”

“Really? I’d have thought you and Carver would get along, you know, jock bonding or something.”

“The only jock I’m friends with these days is Sinclair, and he’s as much of a nerd as the rest of ‘em. Anyways, even if I was still on the team, it’s like…I dunno. He sounds like a preacher.”

“The devil knows scripture, too?”

“Something like that.” He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. How’d you two end up hanging out anyway?”

“Oh, you know,” Eddie says lightly. “Shared visions, strange dreams, things like that.”

He waits for Harrington to laugh it off, to roll his eyes and go back to his girly magazine. It doesn’t happen. If anything, Harrington grows sharp, gets a cutting edge Eddie’s never seen on him before. Not even for the time he spent as king, looking for peasants to push around.

“Visions? Did you see any weird dust, or animals? People acting weird? Or anything else like that?”

“What?” Eddie blinks, startled. “No? They’re just nightmares, dude.”

Actually, his dreams do involve weird looking animals. A bunch of ugly bats, with teeth that hurt. Whoever said you can’t feel pain in dreams was a fucking liar.

They’re not just nightmares, Eddie knows. At least, not for Chrissy. Not if she’s outright hallucinating. There’s something wrong with both of them, and Eddie’s of half a mind to just drive them both down to Pennhurst and get it over with. But that’s their business, and he’ll be damned if he tells King Steve Chrissy’s secrets. Even if he doesn’t seem that bad, now, out of the fluorescent lights of their school.

“Right, right, of course.” He laughs, dragging a hand down his face. “Sorry, I’m just…on edge, I guess. Didn’t get a lot of sleep.”

“I know the feeling.”

“Right,” he says again. “Well, have a good day, I guess. Tell Chrissy her tapes are due back in five days. And, uh, thank you for choosing Family Video.”

“Yeah, sure thing,” Eddie says, feeling equally unsteady after the weird turn their conversation has taken. He heads for the door, only pausing when Harrington calls out.

“Oh, and, uh, Eddie?”

“What?” He pauses, one hand on the door.

“If anything…weird happens, let me know, all right?”

He has no idea what that means. “Don’t worry, Harrington,” he says, throwing a smile over his shoulder. “I live weird.”

When he gets back in the van, Chrissy studies him closely.

“What?”

“What did you and Steve have to talk about? I didn't know you were friends.”

“We’re not,” he snorts. “Me, friends with the King? Can you imagine? Nah, we share custody of some of the freshmen in Hellfire.”

“I don’t know,” she says. “I feel like…” she trails off, biting her lip raw.

“Like what?” He encourages.

“You called me a queen. Does that mean we can’t be friends?”

“Uh…” Eddie says, stumbling a bit. He does want to be friends with Chrissy. Even without the fact that they’re probably going to end up at the same cell in the nuthouse, she’s sweet and quiet in a way that makes him want to ask if anyone’s ever told her she can be loud. Her eyes are big and sad, but he can see a smile glancing along the edges of her mouth when he looks at her. She’s clever, he’ll give her that. He’s been caught hook, line, and sinker. “No, I’d— I’d like that. To be friends with you.”

Her smile feels brighter than the sun.

“Then what’s so weird about being friends with Steve?” She asks, glancing towards the Family Video window. Harrington looks like he’s back to reading his magazine, but glances up like he can feel them watching him. Eddie looks away and starts the van.

“Well, for one thing, you’re not one of the assholes who called me names and pushed me and my friends around.”

Harrington’s not either, really. Too busy standing around and being self obsessed to bother. His friends did all the pushing around for him. Wouldn’t do to get his hands dirtied with the freak. The familiar bitterness rises in his chest, and he tries to push it down. Looks at Chrissy out of the corner of his eye as he pulls out of his parking spot.

Her smile has faded, and he could kick himself. “Jason is, though,” she says quietly.

“How long have you guys been dating, anyway?” He asks, eager to change the subject. He pulls out of the lot, all too ready to leave the video store and the man who resides in it behind.

“Three years.”

Eddie chokes, not expecting that answer in the least. “Three years?”

“We got together when we were fifteen,” she says, a grimace pulling at her mouth when he glances at her. Shit, maybe Harrington was right and there is trouble in paradise.

“How do you stand him?”

“He loves me,” she says. It’s not an answer.

“Yeah, but Chrissy, he’s like, a major dick.”

“He loves me,” she repeats. “He wants to go to college together. He wants to live in Hawkins, and have a pretty white wedding, and a job that pays and a wife that’s pretty and sweet and doesn’t have nightmares about dying every night. A wife that’s not crazy. And she’ll have his kids, all two and a half of them, and she’ll always smile and stay at home and never do anything with her life because she gave up all her dreams for him—“

He pulls onto the side of the road. “Jesus,” he breathes, twisting in his seat. “Chrissy. That’s not love.”

“He’s safe.” She looks at him imploringly, eyes wet. “I just have to make it until summer. He can have his pretty little girlfriend, his pretty little life. He can have whatever he wants. I just have to make it to summer.”

He swallows back bile. “What’s summer?”

She looks down. “I got an early admission. University of Chicago. I have scholarships. I’ll pack everything, and run away there, and I’ll never have to see him or my mom or anyone else in this fucking place ever again.”

“I used to hate Steve,” she whispers. “Even if he was nice to me, I used to…just wish he didn’t exist.”

“Shit, Chris, so did I. He was an asshole.”

She shakes her head. “No, because it wasn’t like that. It wasn’t because of that. I was just…jealous.”

“Of Harrington? I think everyone’s been jealous of him at some point.”

Her face screws up. “You don’t get it,” she says. “I didn’t want his house, or his money, or his car, I just wanted…”

“Him?”

“No!” She pulls her hair in front of face, looking at him desperately. “I wanted to be him, because he was…”

He really doesn’t know where this is going. “Because he was…?”

“Nancy,” she breathes with a sigh. “He had Nancy Wheeler, and she was pretty, and smart, and I…I wanted it to be me.”

Oh. Oh. Holy shit, Chrissy Cunningham is coming out to him on his ratty couch. He’s safe, she’d said about Jason, and he’d thought she was talking about all the other ways he was convenient, but… there’s safety in a shield. Easier to hide behind a boyfriend then have people asking questions you can’t answer. He’ll eat his shoes if Jason knows, but at least he’s good for something.

She’s turning pale. “I’m—I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—I don’t know why I thought—“

“Woah, woah, woah,” he says, grasping her hand as she tries to flee. “Chrissy, I—Chrissy, wait. Me too, okay?”

She freezes. “You too?”

“Yeah, Chris, me too.”

“Like you had a crush on Nancy too?”

The look he gives her speaks volumes.

“Oh.” She settles back down on the couch, her too-thin wrist trembling in his grip. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He asks, just to make sure.

“Okay,” she says.

“Good.” He sighs, lets go of her hand to run his fingers through his hair. “So, Wheeler, huh?”

A flush blooms across her face.

Steve breaks the surface again, looking panicked, before being dragged back under.

Immediately it’s chaos.

“Steve?” Nancy calls, looking over the side of the boat frantically. “Steve?”

Robin jumps in.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Eddie says, as something determined flashes over Nancy’s face. “Let’s think about this—“

She takes a deep breath and dives in after her.

“Shit!” He looks at Chrissy, eyes wide with dread. “We’re not going in there, are we?”

Sounds echo from the shore. Shit, the police.

They’ll probably die if they go down there. But if the cops find them, they’ll take Chrissy’s Walkman, and then she’ll definitely die.

He sees the same resolve settle over her face.

“This is crazy,” he mutters. “This is crazy! Dammit, dammit, dammit!”

She takes his hand. “On three?”

He lets out a hysterical laugh, gripping her hand tightly.

Chrissy counts to three.

They jump.

He spits blood. It dribbles down his chin, and Eddie follows it down, down, watches a few drops land on that glorious chest and thanks every god there is that he’s too scared for the frankly impressive boner that wants to form.

Chrissy elbows him.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“You’re drooling,” she whispers.

“Can you blame me?” He hisses back. “Look at him! That was some fucking Ozzy shit right there!”

She gives him a look.

He toes one of the dead bats by his foot. Ugly little fucker, with sharp teeth. It’s almost familiar.

He doesn’t get too far with that train of thought.

“Sense of humor still intact, that’s good.” She chuckles nervously. Then she shakes him.

“Ow, Rob!”

“You have to stop doing shit like this! ‘Hur, dur, I’m Steve, I’m going to go into the highly dangerous portal and get eaten by bats because I’m stupid—“

“I don’t sound like that!” He bats her hands away from his torso. “Also, you seem to be forgetting the part where I was dragged against my will.”

“You can’t take any more concussions, Steve!”

“No concussion,” he says, and takes her hands in his. She pauses to breathe. They look like they’re in their own little world, and something bitter twinges in Eddie’s chest. “No rabies, no concussion, I’m okay.”

“You’re definitely not,” Nancy says as she moves in to wrap his injuries. He grunts in pain.

“I’m fine,” he insists, and Eddie snorts. He gets a scathing look in return.

“We are not fine,” Eddie says. “We’re in some sort of hell dimension, shit, I…” he turns in a circle, finally taking in the world they’re in. Everything is grey and barren. Red lightning cracks across the sky.

It looks exactly like his dream.

He lets out a nervous laugh. “What the fuck,” he says. “What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck—“

“Eddie?” Chrissy grabs his hand, and he turns to her with wide eyes.

“Chrissy, it’s just like my dream. This world, those weird fucking creatures, it’s exactly like…”

She turns pale.

“Dream?” Nancy asks, sharp. “What dream?”

“It’s crazy,” Eddie says weakly. He’s starting to believe it less and less.

“It’s both of us.” Chrissy straightens, raising her chin. “It’s always the same thing. For me, it’s a monster. He takes my eyes, snaps my limbs.” Mercifully, none of them point out the similarities with the recent killings, although all three of them straighten. “For Eddie, it’s…”

“Bats,” he says. “Ugly fucking bats, with sharp teeth. Everything is grey and desolate, and there’s this kid—“

The other three exchange what can only be described as a look.

“I’m crazy,” Eddie pleads, trembling. Please, for the love of God, please tell me I’m crazy. Stick me in the loony bin, tie me up and leave me on the front steps of Pennhurst. Please.

“You’re not crazy,” Nancy confirms. It feels like a death sentence.

“So, what’s the story there?” Eddie asks, tripping over a rock. “How’d you figure out the whole ‘Prophetic Nightmares mean death’ thing, anyway?”

Steve furrows his brow. “You’re taking this surprisingly well.”

“I’m not.” Eddie lets out a laugh. “Trust me, I’m not at all. But I think some part of me had always known, you know? Like, it was too real to be just my imagination.”

Steve nods. “As far as we can tell, it’s only people who die from the Upside-Down,” he tells Eddie. “Has to be directly from it, no second-hand murder or anything.”

“Great.”

“Yeah.” He grimaces. “And it can change, you know? You might be having nightmares one night, and then you do something significant enough to change your…fate or whatever, and they’re gone. Or maybe something happens, and you start having them. It’s not always set in stone, you know?”

“Well, good,” Eddie breathes. There’s a chance they get out of this. “That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

“How do you know all this? Like, do people just come up to you and tell you their nightmares? Do you go around asking everyone in Hawkins what they dream about?”

“As far as we can tell, it started with Barb.”

“Barb?”

“Yeah, uh, Barbara Holland?”

“The one who died from the chemical leak?”

There’s a heavy silence, where Steve looks at Nancy. There’s regret in his eyes.

“She had a nightmare, the night Will disappeared. Told Nancy a monster took her, something with no face and lots of teeth. Nancy told her to lay off the horror movies.”

Something sinks in his stomach.

“That night, they came over to my house, you know? We were messing around, being stupid, and Barb cut herself. It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, we told her to go home and went inside. The next day, she was missing.”

“Shit,” Eddie breathes. “The chemical leak?”

“Bullshit,” Steve confirms.

“Shit.”

Steve blinks, eyes jumping back up to his. “What?” He asks, sounding breathless. Poor guy. Those bites must hurt like hell. “Sorry, I didn’t hear that.”

“It’s fine,” Eddie says, even though his mood sours a bit at the idea of Steve not listening to him. “I was just saying, you and Wheeler looked pretty cozy. I think you’ve got a chance.”

Steve stares at him. “…what?”

“Christ, Harrington, your ex-girlfriend! Nancy Wheeler, who leapt after you without a second thought and was giving you eyes the whole time she was patching you up. I’m telling you to win her back.” Sorry, Chrissy. She'd told him she was over that particular crush, though, so he figures it's fair game.

“Nancy? You want me to date Nancy again?” He asks, as if the idea is so far out of the realm of possibility that it’s baffling.

“Do you not?”

“Not really.”

“Why?” Eddie asks, because if there’s anything he’s learning about himself these days it’s that he’s a bit of a masochist. “Isn’t she the perfect girl for you?”

She is. They fit so well, Eddie could see it from space. Nancy Wheeler, with her determination and fearlessness, guns in her room and fire in her heart. Steve Harrington, the hero, the protector, standing at her side where he belongs. It’s so storybook it practically writes itself.

But Steve’s shaking his head. “We weren’t…good together,” he says haltingly, as if he’s debating on whether to even tell Eddie this. “I wanted to ignore it all. I was scared of what I’d seen, scared of the government guys whose NDA’s I signed, just…scared. I wanted to pretend like it never happened, like everything was normal. Nancy couldn’t do that. She lost Barb, and I…told her to forget. I told her to just put out the story the Feds were selling, because I was a coward. Barb’s parents sold their house to hire an investigator for a girl we knew was dead, and god, Nancy’s face…”

Eddie doesn’t know if he wants to hear this. He looks back up at the girls walking ahead. Nancy looks as fiercely determined as usual, but for the first time, he wonders what’s behind it.

“I hurt her, and she hurt me,” Steve continues. “I…shit, I really thought she loved me, you know? I thought we would get married, have kids, the whole nine yards. Realizing it was all…well, bullshit, that was almost worse than any concussion I’ve had, but I don't blame her. I wasn’t what she needed.”

“And now? I mean, you’re clearly a different guy than you were back then,” Eddie says, because he’s kind of nosy at heart. Steve’s being all introspective and shit, just giving up all this information for free, and he wants to know more. It’s not at all because something in him turns smug when faced with the fact that the world’s most fated couple aren’t fated at all. Are actually kind of terrible together, if Steve’s to be believed.

“It’d just be the same thing all over again. I’ll always love her, but we want different things. Different priorities and stuff. I wouldn’t be able to keep up, and she’s not going to slow down for me.”

It doesn’t mean he has a chance. Eddie’s got, like, negative chances with Steve Harrington. Still, the little peacock in him preens.

“What does she need, then?”

Steve’s face is almost wistful. “She needs someone like Jonathan. He’s got…drive, or whatever. He’s someone you know you can trust to do what needs to be done. The two of them made sure the stuff about the chemical leak was published, you know that? Nancy needed closure, and Jonathan made it happen. He’s cool like that. And he’s good to have in a fight, too. Throws a mean punch.” He smiles wryly at that, touching his temple like he’s lost in a memory. “He’s passionate, and caring, and he’s so stressed all the time, but he still manages to be, like, soothing. And he’s got those eyes, you know? They’re big and sad and like, wet all the time. He always looks like he’s about to cry, but it works for him. He’s just…he’s good at making people feel safe.”

Eddie barely processes the words, too busy staring at Steve in confusion, jealousy churning in his gut. Which is to be expected, given that he’s been pushing said jealousy down for this entire conversation, but he doesn’t know how they went from Steve’s relationship with Nancy to how pretty Jonathan Byers’s eyes are.

He’s good at making people feel safe. God, he had it all wrong. In the wake of finding out they’d lived through three world-ending apocalypses, that might be the greatest confession of love he’s ever heard. And it’s from King Steve, about a boy that humbled him so bad he drop-kicked his crown straight across the country.

Steve catches him staring and shuts his mouth with a click. Everything has a washed, gray tinge to it, but he swears his cheeks flush.

“I’m rambling,” he laughs, looking slightly panicked. “I was just trying to say that Nancy and I don’t fit together. Not like that. I don’t really know if we ever did.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, “I’m starting to see why.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” he squeaks. Well, in for a penny, out for a pond, right? He’s already in hell, might as well try and sus Harrington out while he’s at it. “Just…Byers? Really?”

“I don’t—“

“Didn’t he kick your ass?”

“Not you too!” Steve groans. “I already got the third degree from Robin. I was asking for that beatdown. Shit, some of the stuff I said was so nasty it makes me want to take a shower when I think of it.”

His eyebrows fly up at how easily he’d given up denial. “Gotta say, I didn’t think he’d be King Steve’s type.”

“He—I—he’s not—“ he stammers. Never mind, then. Denial still firmly in place.

At least until Steve lets out a sigh. “I don’t know why I’m trying to deny it. I can see that hanky in your pocket.”

Eddie’s eyes widen innocently. “Oh, this?” He asks, tugging it a bit for emphasis. It stays firmly in place, because he’ll be damned if he doesn’t pin it. He learned after the first three he lost to miscellaneous chaos.

“Don’t play dumb, that’s my job,” Steve complains. “Shit, I can’t believe I said all that. That’s fucking embarrassing.”

“I mean, I just tried to get you to win back your ex-girlfriend when you’re in love with her boyfriend,” Eddie says mildly. “I feel like we’re both embarrassed here.”

Steve’s flush would be visible from outer space. “I’m not in love with him.”

“Who are you trying to convince here?”

“I’m not!” He protests. “Like, yeah, I used to be, but I’ve moved on. Firmly moved on. I love him in the same way I love Nancy, you know? Like, she’s the first person I ever loved, and he made me realize that I like both. They’re always going to be part of me. But I’m not in love with him anymore.”

Eddie’s heart takes off without his permission.

“Don’t tell Lucas,” she pleads.

“I won’t,” Steve promises.

Max hesitates.

“You don’t have to tell me if—“

“I’ve been having Nightmares.”

Eddie sucks in a breath.

“What?” Steve sounds…shit, there’s not a way to describe how broken Steve’s voice is with just those four words.

“Ever since Billy died,” Max says. “I can’t…it’s Vecna. I know it is. He gets me.”

“Max, why wouldn’t you tell us? We could have—“

“I thought it would be easier,” she tells him, voice cracking. “If I just pulled away, I thought maybe it would hurt less when I finally go. And I think—I think I wanted to—“

She cuts off with a sob, and Eddie’s heart fucking shatters.

“Max,” Steve says helplessly.

“I’m sorry,” she cries. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, and I’m sorry I haven’t been here, and I’m sorry for thinking I wanted to die but Steve I don’t, I don’t, I’m not ready to go. I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to, Steve, I don’t know what to do—“

Steve pulls her into his chest. She curls her fingers into his shirt, and he meets Eddie’s eyes over her head. Eddie sees tears streaking down his face before he ducks his head back down.

“I’m here, Max,” Steve promises. “We’re gonna figure this out, okay? I’ll do everything I can to fix this. You just keep that Walkman on.”

She nods into his shoulder, still crying. It’s violent, her sobs shaking her entire body. She looks smaller every time Eddie sees her, like she’s retreating into herself, and now she looks tiny. Looks all her fifteen years, clinging to the only adult in the vicinity she trusts like he’s her lifeline. And Eddie sees the resolve settle on Steve’s face, knows without a doubt that he’s going to do something stupid.

“Yes, we do,” Max says quietly. Even from here, Eddie can see her trembling.

“No,” Steve says. “No, no, no, no, no.”

She’s got a whole plan though. Outlines it with steel in her voice, confident enough that everyone nods along. If Eddie didn’t know better, he’d believe in it too.

Steve looks damn near apocalyptic. “Max,” he says through gritted teeth, “can I talk to you in the other room?”

Lucas stands up with her, but Steve stops him with a look. Still, he doesn’t sit back down until Max puts a hand on his arm.

“It’s just Steve,” she tells him quietly. “We just need a minute.”

No one says anything as they close the door to Max’s room behind them. A deafening click of the latch in the silence.

As soon as the door is closed, Dustin and Erica have their ears pressed to the wood. Chrissy isn’t far behind.

“Guys,” Nancy hisses, even as she creeps closer, “really?”

“This should be a private conversation,” Robin whispers, wringing her hands as Lucas tiptoes across the room to join them. “Like, you know how Steve gets about you munchkins, obviously he wouldn’t take this well. Honestly, I’m not taking this well, and I’m not your guy's babysitter-slash-big brother-slash-dad. But it’s the best plan we’ve got, unless we want to just let Vecna-slash-Henry-slash-One to give up and find his fourth victim somewhere else and we wouldn’t know who it was and then he really will open the gates and kill everyone we know—“

She’s shushed by four different people.

Eddie gives in, crossing the room as silently as he can to join their little eavesdropping party. Robin follows him.

“—said you weren’t ready,” Steve is snapping, voice barely muffled through the door. Thank God for shitty trailer soundproofing. “I told you all you had to do was keep the goddamn Walkman on, and that’s what you’re going to do! We’ll find another way.”

“There is no other way, Steve!” There’s a light thump that Eddie thinks might be the stomping of a foot. “It’s our only shot at winning this. It has to be me.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“What are we gonna do? Wait for him to target someone else? Wait for them to die, because I was too selfish? Because I’m a fucking coward?”

“Yes!” Steve hisses, clear as day. Their little group of eavesdroppers look at each other with wide eyes. “Fuck, Max, if that’s what it fucking takes to keep you alive. He’ll find another target—“

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“I’m not letting you die on my watch, Mayfield. I’m not letting you die, period.”

Max sounds close to pulling her hair out. “You’re not letting me do jack shit. I know the risks. I’m willing to do what it takes.”

Eddie’s heart twists. Jesus, she’s a fucking kid. He’s with Steve, on this one.

“Well I’m not,” Steve replies harshly. “And if those guys out there knew, they wouldn’t be so gung-ho about it either. You know damn well if you told them you were having Nightmares—“

Dustin loses his balance, and falls on the floor with a thud that seems to echo in the sudden silence that follows. Everyone freezes.

When Steve opens the door, he’s glowering. Eddie can’t help but notice the tears in his eyes.

“Seriously?” He demands.

“You’re having Nightmares?” Lucas asks Max, heartbroken.

Max’s face is thundering. “That was a private conversation.”

“If you wanted privacy, maybe you should have better soundproofing,” Dustin snarks. “We could have heard you from the living room.”

“Sorry for assuming we didn’t have to ask after closing the goddamn door,” Steve growls.

Max pushes past them all, heading straight for the back door.

“Max, wait—“

“Max!”

“Hold on—“

Steve starts after her, stopping them all in their tracks with a glare when they try to follow. He doesn’t say anything, just lets out a derisive huff before slamming the door shut behind him.

They stand there, crowded in the tiny hallway, frozen.

“I think we may have fudged that one up,” Robin says quietly. No one disagrees with her.

By the time they come back inside, everyone else is scavenging for apology food. Max is wiping her eyes, and Steve’s hands shake like he needs a cigarette.

“I’m the bait,” Steve announces. No preamble, no room for debate, just laying it down and expecting everyone to go along with it.

Obviously, he was hoping for too much given the kids they hang out with.

“Will that even work?” Erica scrunches her nose.

“Yes.”

“Wanna elaborate on that?” Robin asks quietly, moving into his space. He gives her a look, but lets her close the distance between them until she’s taking his arm and dragging him to the couch. He sits obediently, and Max immediately moves to the side Robin’s not on, leaving a bit of distance between them like she wants to be close but is scared to touch.

“Nope.”

“How do we even know if it’ll work?” Dustin asks. “You can’t just decide Vecna will go for you instead, that’s not how it works. That’s not how any of this works.”

“He’s right, Steve,” Nancy says apologetically. She backtracks at Steve’s deadly look. “Obviously, we won’t use Max anymore if she’s having Nightmares, but we have no way of knowing if Henry will come for you.”

“I could do it,” Chrissy offers quietly. Bile floods Eddie’s mouth, and he swallows it back with his protests. “He might still come for me, since I was cursed.”

“You’re not cursed anymore,” Steve reminds her. “You don’t even need the Walkman. Plus, he wants someone El knows. We don’t know that he’d come for you.”

“We don’t know that he’d come for you, either,” Lucas says.

“He will.”

“He will,” Max affirms quietly. When Eddie looks at her, she’s staring at her own hands.

“How do you know?” Erica asks.

“Because I had my first vision while we were outside,” Steve says.

That shuts them up.

They’re distracted by Robin standing up abruptly enough to knock over her chair, yelling something incomprehensible at Steve about his “stupid box,” and where he can shove it, whatever that means, and storming off. Steve stays sitting exactly where he is, head down, looking defeated.

Eddie and Dustin exchange startled glances.

Chrissy creeps up to Steve cautiously. “Are you going to go after her?”

He shakes his head. When he raises it, Eddie notices his eyes are rimmed red. “You should,” he mumbles. “You’d probably help more than I would, right now.”

She nods and slips away. Eddie sends Dustin in the Sinclair’s direction, and plops down in Robin’s empty seat.

“She not doing too hot with all this?”

Steve grimaces. “I told her where my will is.”

“Ah,” Eddie says, genuinely at a loss for words. “Well, fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“You not leave her anything?” It’s a shit joke, one that he kicks himself for making, but he laughs. It’s hoarse and cold and all too fake, but it’s a laugh.

“Like, almost everything I have. To be divided as she sees fit.”

“Making her do all that? No wonder she’s pissed.”

Steve’s snort is real this time.

#prophetic nightmares of the dead au #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #steddie #how does chrissy survive vecna? i was going to figure that out #i think my original plan for this was some robin/chrissy as well or maybe nancy/chrissy/robin #btw that jancy speech that steve gave? biased as FUCK #when they got together steve convinced himself it was inevitable bc they're obviously made for each other #in reality they have reached granola bar levels of falling apart #eddie who has outsider pov to the whole thing and can see nancy twitch every time someone mentions her bf is like hmm. doesn't sound right #but i don't know enough about either of them to dispute it #steve gets vecna-ed

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crrepiest · 3 months

Text

Yandere! Teacher x Student

♡GN reader♡

Pt 2.5 lol

Tw: age gap, pervy behavior, obsessive behavior.

This is a time skip from the main story line, this isn't part 3, just a one off story for valentines day. I hope you lovelies enjoy <3

The chime of the convenience store door rings from behind me. The cool air from inside rushes towards my face, sending a chill down my spine. My eyes adjust to the fluorescent lights as they hum quietly in the background. A young man, barely in his 20s, stands behind the cash register. He doesn't seem to be particularly enjoying his job at the moment. I give him a pity smile as I make my way to the candy aisle. I couldn't blame the kid. Being stuck at your dead-end job at midnight and the most interesting thing being a grown man looking at candy, isn't the first place I would like to be either

I internally scold myself for waiting so long to compile this Valentine’s gift for you. I wanted to give you more. A huge display of my love and affection is what you truly deserve. Albeit out of the realm of things I’d imagine myself ever doing, you bring out the romantic side in me. I initially wanted to get a gift weeks ago, but as February 14th crept closer and closer, nothing I came up with I deemed worthy enough for you, which led me here, trying to throw together a last-minute gift that was nowhere near my standards. I do hope you will understand, my love.

I scan the shelves of sweet treats and set my eyes on (favorite candy). I swiftly pick up the packaged goody and make my way to the drink section. The cold air of the refrigerator nipped at my already cold hands as I grabbed some (favorite drink). I walk down the aisle, trying to search for a flower display. A small stand catches my eye. Thankfully, though, they had the ones I was looking for. I grab a small bundle of (favorite flowers) and make my way to the front counter.

I send the young man a smile as he scans my items. “For the spouse, huh?” he says as he breaks the silence I was trying to maintain. My cheeks burned as I couldn't help the smile that crept onto my face. “I Uh…yeah.” he seemed to have noticed this but returned to scanning my items. “Your total sir is $15.48” I swiped my card and exchanged pleasantries with him. I grabbed the bag and spun on my heels, making my way out the door.

I shut the car door and place the shopping bag onto the passenger seat. I stick the keys into the ignition and the engine comes to life. Letting my head fall back onto the headrest, my breathing hitches when the thought of you comes to mind. A smile pulls to my lips as I put the car into drive and pull out of the small parking lot. My eyes rest on the empty passenger seat beside me. I envision you in place of the plastic bag. My heart flutters at the thought. My mind wanders—your smell, your smile, your laugh, the warmth that radiates from your presence alone engulfs me. Excitement fills me at the thought of your face when you receive my small sample of affection, in hopes it will keep my appetite satiated from the need to please you.

I'm pulled away from my thoughts and back to my surroundings as the traffic light turns green. My neck cranes to the side. A twinge of pain runs through my heart when you aren't in my passenger seat, keeping me company, as I was so vividly seeing in my mind. Bright street lights zoom past the dark, tinted windows as I speed my way back home.

༺༻

A huff escapes my lips as I sit in my brown leather office chair. I cross my arms as I stare out at the empty desks, my gaze landing on one. The measly gifts I bought last night rest on the small wooden table. A pit in my stomach begins to form as the sound of the ticking clock fills my quiet classroom.

I rub my sweaty palms on my pant legs and stand up from my chair. I pace back and forth at the front of the classroom as I recite what I'm going to say when you walk in. “I was thinking of you at the store and thought I’d get you something.” too forward, I scolded myself. “Yeah, I just had these things lying around.” who just has a bouquet lying around? I let out a frustrated grunt at my thinly veiled excuses. My heart stops when I hear footsteps approaching my door.

I rush to my seat and try to look as if I’m busy when I see a figure entering the room. Our eyes met. You beam a smile toward me. “Good morning Mr. Roth.” Simply the way you annunciate the words makes me go feral. I could only dream that the first thing I hear in the morning and the last thing I hear at night is my name falling from your delicate lips. Your eyes lock on to your desk and confusion decorates your face. “Where'd this come from?” you say, gesturing to the Valentine's gift.

My mouth hangs slightly agape as I try to remember the lines I previously practiced. However, the words get stuck in my throat. “I uh …uh, they were there when I… got here.” I stumble over my half-assed lie. You give me a weary look, but don't press any further. “Hmm. I wonder who put it here,” you say as you stare a hole through the flowers. “Must be a secret admirer I guess” My eye twitched as the words fell from my mouth. The thought of someone even thinking about you in that manner made my blood boil.

I see you blush a little at this. I curse myself for not just telling you I did it. I bought the Valentine's gift and I need you to know how much I love you. Then maybe you would be blushing at the thought of me, and not some hypothetical admirer.

You pick up the bundle of flowers and put them up to your nose, taking in their sweet scent. I watch and admire as you do, wishing that I could take a photo to capture the memory. More students begin to flood into the classroom.

A few of your friends come up to you, full of questions as to where the items came from. I observe the interactions and whisper softly to myself, “I hope you like it, sweetheart.”

Haiii guys :3 I hope you enjoyed this, please feel free to give me any constructive criticism to improve my writing

Happy valentines day yall!! Im working on part 4 now so bare with me

I love every single one of you guys thank u for all the support <3

TAG LIST!

@darl1ngv1ca @rainnwolfenstein

@pneum4 @iwantsleepplz @bigstarshine @bl00dbag

#stalker kink #yandere drabble #yandere headcanons #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere imagines #yandere oc x reader #oc #teacher x student #yandere x you #yandere #yandere oc #yancore #stalker #tw stalking #yandere scenarios

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neochan · 2 years

Text

PAIRING | haechan x reader

SYNOPSIS | you've had your eye on haechan for a while. who knew a costume frat party would be the time you got to have him.

WC | 2.8k

WARNINGS | alcohol, bunny pet name, panty biting, oral fem receiving, slight nipple play, choking, he spanks reader one time, big dick!haechan, reader calls him daddy once, breeding kink (no mention of pregnancy or kids), acts like a typical dude at the end lmao

A.N | happy hyuck day !

“I won’t bite. Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

A deep voice tickles your ear, making you whip your head around. Haechan stands tall, eyes glinting with mischief; his plastic glow-in-the-dark fangs are bared to you in a wide smile. His hands are occupied with two drinks, one which is slightly extended to you.

“Ha Ha.” you say dryly, and snatch the plastic solo cup out of his hand.

The last party of the school year and here you were listening to pathetic jokes from a poorly costumed vampire. You couldn't brag about yours though, the play boy bunny ears were constantly sliding off your head, and the faux tail kept getting pulled by obnoxious frat boys.

Looking around you take it all in. Last party of the semester ... last party with him.

Lee Donghyuck, the boy you can't seem to get out of your head even though he was oblivious to it all. He stood in front of you, handsomer than you've ever seen. Clad in a white button up spotted with fake blood and a black cape tied around his throat by a matching ribbon, all you wanted to do was rip those clothes off of him, but you couldn't. It was out of the question - especially here.

The frat house wasn't exactly the best place for hooking up. Downstairs was cluttered with people and alcohol; basically one big open room, and upstairs was where coke heads took their turns bumping lines. The bathrooms were absolutely nasty and usually covered in piss and vomit by the time you actually wanted to fuck someone.

Who were you kidding? You'd never get the chance to fuck Haechan so there was no use worrying about where the best place was.

You take a sip of your drink, cringing at the bitter burn that slides down your throat, "Is this just straight Titos?" you splutter.

He shrugs nonchalantly, nodding towards the kitchen, "They were all out of mixers."

"Not surprised" You murmur, throwing your head back and drinking the rest in one swallow. Usually the alcohol was gone by now anyways, it was a surprise he came back with Titos.

Haechan's eyes watch you admiringly, twinkling when you spill some of the alcohol down your chin.

"You know," he starts, "This party is kind of lame." He fiddles with the tied bow of his cape for a second before continuing, "I was wondering if you just want to come back to my place and chill?"

Your eyebrows shoot up on their own accord. Was the boy you've had a crush on the last four years asking you to go back to his place?"

"How sober are you?" you question.

"Stone cold."

"Prove it."

"Come back to my place and I'll show you how sober I am."

His words shock you, heat creeping into your cheeks and flushing through your entire body. You can feel your knees go weak.

"I mean, if you want to, that is." his smile stretches from ear to ear, the fangs glowing a bright green.

"Are you going to fuck me?" you ask coyly. It's satisfying to see the way his smile drops and his cheeks grow red, but the next words out of his mouth aren't shy at all.

"Oh little bunny... I'm gonna absolutely ruin you."

☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾

Your back hits the wall alarmingly hard, but you don't even notice. All you can focus on right now is Haechans soft lips moving against your own at a pace way too fervent for the amount of alcohol coursing through your blood. The lack of oxygen leaves you dizzy, fingertips running over his shoulders, trying to steady yourself. His own graze over the supple flesh of your thighs left exposed by your costume.

The bunny ears and fangs are gone now, leaving you both to meld into each other. His lips move from yours to travel down your throat which finally allows you to take a deep breath.

"Fuck Haechan." you whisper, your hands coming up to pull at the hair tickling the nape of his neck. It sends goosebumps down his spine but he doesn't tell you, just keeps giving you wet kisses against your throat and collarbone. By the end of the night he wants you to be painted in bruises.

"You like my tongue?" he coos, darting it out to lick a wet stripe from the base of your neck to your ear lobe, nibbling it just a bit to make you shudder. He ruts against you, and you gasp. You can feel every inch of him through the thin material of his pants - and he's big. You groan and pull him close, capturing his lips in another kiss. He tasted like you always dreamed of - like a cherry blow pop. He did have a thing for those after all.

He pulls away, leaning his forehead against your own, "How about I show you what my tongue can really do?" his trademark grin spreads across his face, almost daring you to accept his offer.

"N- No, I need you in me." You whimper.

"Little bunny wants my cock, hm?"

All of a sudden you feel the floor fall out beneath you, and for a second you think you've passed out because of your alcohol consumption, but all is right when you realize that Haechan has picked you up. You wrap your legs around his waist and throw your arms around his neck squealing at the sensation of being carried.

It's just a few steps to the bed and in no time he's laying you down gently, body caging you against his soft sheets.

"You shouldn't have worn lingerie to the party." He growls, eyes drinking in the sight of your body for the thousandth time tonight, "Other guys shouldn't see you like this."

You roll your eyes, "It was a dress up party, what else was I supposed to wear?"

"A potato sack?" he offers.

"You wouldn't have wanted to fuck me if I wore that."

He's directly overtop of you now, the cross chain around his throat swinging in your face, accidentally brushing the tip of your nose. "I've wanted to fuck you since the moment we met. A potato sack is nothing."

"Then stop talking about it and do it." You groan.

You don't need to ask him twice because as soon as the last word is out of your mouth he's quickly unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it across the room. His cape and pants follow suit and soon he's overtop of you in only boxers. They hid nothing to the imagination, the outline of his cock painfully obvious.

"I think it's your turn bunny."

When you go to undo your bra he stops you, "Let me do it." With ease Haechan undoes your bra and soon your upper body is bare to him, "You're so fucking hot." He groans, dipping his heads down to take one of your perky nipples in his mouth.

The feeling of his hot tongue against your sensitive bud is enough to make you arch up against him, and again, you can feel every inch of him. The thought of how big he is makes your thighs clench together, heat pooling in your panties.

His tongue roves across your skin, sucking harshly. At one point he rolls your nipple between his teeth and it's like nothing you've ever felt.

"Haechan please!" you whine, lifting you hips so maybe he'll get the hint that you want him in you now.

He chuckles, lips skimming down your stomach until they hover right above the waistband of your panties. He looks at you through his dark eyelashes, honey brown eyes glinting with mischief.

"Don't worry bunny, I'm just as impatient, trust me." and with that he sinks his canines into your waistband and drags your panties down. Its unbearably hot, the sight of Haechan holding your panties in his mouth, but as you're whining and moving your legs restlessly, he spits them onto the floor and shoves your thighs apart.

"Just one taste, okay?"

You furiously nod your head and he wastes no time attaching his lips to your core to suckle on your clit.

White hot pleasure shoots through you, "Oh fuck!"

His tongue moves against you with grace, swirling patterns against your swollen clit. Two of his fingers disappear between your legs, easily sliding into you with how wet you were. The stretch of his fingers mixed with his tongue is enough to send you over the edge but you hold back.

"D- Don't wanna cum on your fingers." you whimper, eyes fluttering shut.

He pulls away from you completely, letting you gather your thoughts, "Cum on my cock then." He throws a wink at you before ridding himself of his boxers, and when you catch sight of him you gasp.

Never in all your years of knowing him did you think he was going to be this big. His cock stands tall against his abdomen, his pretty pink tip leaking precum.

He must have seen your eyes widen because he chuckles, "Understand why I wanted to eat you out a little first?"

Dumbly you nod your head, "I want you to fuck me."

"Bunny, you've said that already."

The muscles in his stomach contract when he palms his hard on, slowly stroking himself. Air hisses between his teeth when he touches his tip, eyes fluttering closed with the sensation.

You pout, throwing your fists against the comforter, "Then why're you taking your time!!"

Leaning overtop of you, your eyes following his every move, he lines himself up you’re your entrance, teasing you a bit before gently pushing into you, "Been thinking about this for a while, just wanted to do it right." He grits his teeth, the overwhelming urge to just completely bottom out and fuck into you almost overtaking the rational side of his brain.

The fact that he had been thinking about this almost as much as you sends a tingle through your body. It was nice to know the attraction was mutual and not just a one night stand the last night you were supposed to see each other.

You inhale sharply, the sensation of his thick cock stretching you out making you lose touch with reality. You fumble to grip onto something and end up using his shoulders as a grounding spot. Your nails dig into his honey golden skin, surely leaving red crescents for him to later discover.

He pushes into you slowly, inch by inch, until he’s completely buried in your cunt. You were so fucking wet, Haechan didn’t know how long he was going to be able to play nice for.

"You don't have to be gentle. I won't break.” You whisper.

Guess he didn’t have to play long.

“I don’t plan on being gentle.” He grunts, pulling out of you completely just to slam back into you, a piercing moan falling from your lips, “I said I was gonna ruin you, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing .”

He starts thrusting into you fast, his hips slamming into yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin permeating the otherwise still air. The chain around his throat keeps hitting your nose and at one point he grabs it and throws it over his shoulder. He can’t be bothered with little shit like that when he has such a pretty fucking girl underneath him.

His hands are braced on either side of your face, fingers twisting the fabric of the sheets, bunching it up until he’s clenching it in his fist. You feel so goddamn good, so tight, so wet … for him.

“Haechan! Fuck, you’re so big.” Sobs wrack your chest, eyes going crossed as he pounds into you, one hand wrapping itself around your throat. He squeezes a little and takes satisfaction in the way your eyelids flutter.

He shushes you, “I know bunny, I know. Just take it, I know you can.” He dips down to kiss you, his lips perfectly aligning with yours, “You’re doing so well. Being such a good girl for me.” He mumbles against you.

You feel the band in your stomach start to tighten, and between that and Haechans words, you put your hand on his stomach trying to get him to slow his movements.

He glances down, “Move your hand.”

“No, It’s too much.” You squeak out, but he doesn’t care.

“I said move your fucking hand.” With each word he thrusts all the way into you, brushing your g-spot every time.

You don’t listen to him, instead pushing against his abdomen even harder. He retaliates by closing his fist a little tighter, cutting off even more oxygen. The lack sends you into a head high, eyes crossing again, but you refuse to give in.

A dry laugh leaves his lips, “Fine.” He pulls out of you completely and taps your hip, “Flip over.”

Completely struck by how hot he was commanding you, you comply and flip over, face down ass up. He pushes back into you without warning, forcing your body to shoot forward. “Give me your hands.” He groans, reaching for your wrists. When they’re securely in his hand, he uses the leverage to fuck into you deeper.

“Fuck!” you cry.

“Take it little bunny.” He grunts, letting go of your wrists and pushing your face into his pillows instead. His scent fills your nostrils – cherry blow pops and some kind of cologne. Feeling his cock filling you up mixed with the intense smell of him sends you into another head high.

Your walls clench around him every time he thrusts into you and it almost makes him lose his mind, but there was something he wanted to do first. He stills his movements inside of you, leaving you panting.

“Why’d you stop?” you moan, but you’re sure the pillow muffled you too much for him to make out what you said so you start moving on your own accord. He lets go of your head and throws his arms up behind his own, admiring the way you back up against him.

"Yeah, that's right, throw that ass back little bunny."

The sight is almost enough to make him cum, but he holds back, gazing at the way your pussy swallows him.

You were growing impatient. This wasn’t filling your needs like before, “Haechan!!” you whine.

“Yeah, yeah.” He spits, grabbing a handful of your ass and fucking into you faster now. He couldn’t contain himself; you were just that fucking hot. "Want me to fill you up?” he whispers, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. When he sees you shake your head as much as the pillows can allow, his mind turns crazed, "Gonna watch it drip out of your pretty pussy."

Your arms are thrust out to the side, gripping the sheets between your fingers, “Please Haechan! Want your cum so bad. Need it, please!”

"God you're such a slut." He groans, “Love the way your ass moves when I fuck into you.” One of his hands smacks your ass, a thin pain spreading throughout your bottom.

Your high-pitched moans rang throughout the room, pushing Haechan closer to his orgasm.

“Want you to fill me up daddy!” the name slips from your tongue too easily for Haechan to ignore it… not like he could though, because it tickles the right part of his brain and soon, he’s emptying ropes of cum into you.

The thought of him filling you up and then realizing it was actually happening has you clutching the sheets for dear life as your own orgasm wracks through you. Your walls spasm around him, milking every last drop from him.

For a second nobody moves and all you can hear is Haechan breathing rapidly as he tries to come down from his high. You shift so that your face is turned to the side, and you can finally breathe but you start laughing instead. “This… this is not how I thought the night was gonna go.”

“Me neither.” He agrees.

Slowly, he pulls out of you, making sure not to get any on the sheets below him. You flip over on your back and reach a hand over the edge of the bed fishing for a shirt or something to clean yourself up with. You end up grabbing one of Haechans shirts to which he just shrugs and lets you do your thing.

When you’re done you toss it into the corner of his room, not caring where it lands.

“God that was so good.” He smiles over at you, eyes crinkling in the corner.

You hum in response, eyelids fluttering shut. The alcohol in your system mixed with the workout you just did has left you exhausted and all you were craving was sleep.

“You can stay here tonight. I’m sure we have a lot to talk about in the morning.” He says softly, one arm propped up, watching as you slowly slip away into dreamland, the promise of tomorrow with the boy you’ve liked for the past four years sure to bring you happy dreams.

A.N | happy haechan day!!!! i wanted to give you guys something a little special bc of the celebration! i heard he got covid though so i hope he recovers fast </3 also.. send feedback please.

#haechan smut #nct haechan smut #nct dream smut #nct 00 line smut #00 line smut #haechan x reader #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #lee donghyuck smut #hyuck smut #nct hyuck smut

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aeyunaa · 11 months

Text

Mine

Pairing: husband/Chan x wife/female reader

Word count: 3k

Smut warning:

Choking, pussy eating, possession kink, jealousy, rough play, breeding kink, bulged kink, fluff at the end?

You and Chan are a married couple and have two daughters already 🤷🏻‍♂️

——/—————request are open—-/——

You had final got jun-ah and dal to doze off after all your previous attempts. “Fuck I’m tired” you look up at the clock it was already midnight your husband came home from work in about an hour. You had cook earlier and left him his plate in the microwave with a note so he knew it was his. You lay down and eventually wake up to the sound of your husband laying his keys on the nightstand chan leaned and kissed your forehead before walking into the restroom to take a shower. When he came out you looked at him he was dressed in grays sweat your eyes locked onto the sight of his abs and you blush. He smiles before sitting beside on the bed “how was your day, baby?” He asked in a deep rich tone. “Jun gave me hell, I spent about four hours trying to get her to fall asleep.” Chan chuckles as he runs a hand up and down your back. Suddenly your phone rings you look at who’s calling “Hyunjin?” You didn’t even talk to him that often. You Chan feel Chan’s glare burning through the backside of your head as you slowly answered it “Hello?” “Put it on speakerphone.” A chill ran down your spine but you did as you were asked “y/n? I’m so glad you answered! Anyway me and the guys just wanted to know if you wanted to hang out like we all used to you know?”. You hesitate “I can’t really, I have to watch the kids maybe some other time”.

You could hear Hyunjin sigh over the phone “okay then I’ll call you back later bye”, “bye”.

I hung up and set my phone down and immediately felt Chan’s hands running down my chest. “Hyunjin? Why would my best friend call you in the middle of the night? Unless you’ve been talking to him privately.” Chan continues groping at my boobs as his movements grow more intense. “C-Chan w-wait I hardly even T-talk to him”. He pushes you into the bed hooking his fingers onto the edge of your panties dragging them down your legs and tossing them somewhere on the bed he dove into you sticking his tongue inside of you, licking over your entrance, teasing at your clit. his fingers spread you open, as he ate you out. He suddenly pulls away and stares at you with a predatory look in his eye’s as he untied the strings to sweat pants, taking his dick out of his boxers. It was red hard, and glossed over with precum at the tip. He wasted no time positioning himself at your wet entrance he ran his hands up till they were around your neck he gripped catching you off guard “you know your safe word?” You nodded slightly. He grinned before shoving his cock inside your small cunt. The feeling splitting you two. His hands grew tighter around your neck choking out any moans. He leaned back slowly taking his hands off your neck and onto your hips he could feel his cock grow harder as he continues thrusting at a merciless pace “fuck…look at it baby look at how beautiful you are with my cock deep in side of you…destroying you…” you look down and you see it the bulge that appeared with each thrust. You were a moaning mess chan slapped a hand over your mouth “the kids are sleeping you shouldn’t wake them.” could feel himself growing closer to his orgasm. His thrusts grew sloppy but he made sure to make up for it in depth slamming himself down deep inside you “fuckkk…. “All mine, the babies you’ll be giving birth to MINE, The cock buried deep inside your fat cunt Mine, all mine….” He thrust once more before he felt his climax wash over him. His seed buried deep inside your wet cunt as you wrapped your arms around his back. “I know I know hun” he coos as he slowly pulls out of you not wanting any of his semen to drip out.

“You did so well for me, princess…” he spoke softly as he layed down and pulled you into a hug. You replied with a soft “mmh” he smiles softly and pulls the blanket over the two of you. “Hyunjin can’t fuck you as good as I’ve been..” he whispers hinting that he was still a bit jealous.

You giggle a bit “Chan!…”

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#kpop smut #skz smut #straykids smut #skz hard thoughts #skz fanfic #skz scenarios #stray kids smut #chan smut #bangchan scenarios #bang chris #bangchan smua #chan skz #bang chan #bang chan smut

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sercetsin · 6 months

Text

𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙚

Pairing: husband/Chan x wife/female reader

Word count: 700

Smut warning:

Choking, pussy eating, possession kink, jealousy, rough play, breeding kink, bulge kink, fluff at the end?

*You and Chan are a married couple and have one daughter already 🤷🏻‍♂️🤷🏻‍♂️*

You had finally got her to doze off after all your previous attempts. “Fuck I’m tired” you look up at the clock it was already midnight your husband came home from work in about an hour. You had cooked earlier and left him his plate in the microwave with a note so he knew it was his. You lay down and eventually wake up to the sound of your husband laying his keys on the nightstand. Chan leaned and kissed your forehead before walking into the restroom to take a shower. When he came out you looked at him he was dressed in grays sweat your eyes locked onto the sight of his abs and you blush. He smiles before sitting beside on the bed “how was your day, baby?” He asked in a deep rich tone. “Jun gave me hell, I spent about four hours trying to get her to fall asleep.” Chan chuckles as he runs a hand up and down your back. Suddenly your phone rings and you look at who’s calling “Hyunjin?” You didn’t even talk to him that often. You Chan felt Chan’s glare burning through the backside of your head as you slowly answered it “Hello?” “Put it on speakerphone.” A chill ran down your spine but you did as you were asked “y/n? I’m so glad you answered! Anyway me and the guys just wanted to know if you wanted to hang out like we all used to you know?”. You hesitate “I can’t really, I have to watch the kids maybe some other time”.

You could hear Hyunjin sigh over the phone “okay then I’ll call you back later bye”, “bye”.

I hung up and set my phone down and immediately felt Chan’s hands running down my chest. “Hyunjin? Why would my best friend call you in the middle of the night? Unless you’ve been talking to him privately.” Chan continues groping at my boobs as his movements grow more intense. “C-Chan w-wait I hardly even T-talk to him”. He pushes you into the bed hooking his fingers onto the edge of your panties dragging them down your legs and tossing them somewhere on the bed he dove into you sticking his tongue inside of you, licking over your entrance, teasing at your clit. his fingers spread you open, as he ate you out. He suddenly pulls away and stares at you with a predatory look in his eyes as he unties the strings to sweatpants, taking his dick out of his boxers. It was red hard, and glossed over with precum at the tip. He wasted no time positioning himself at your wet entrance he ran his hands up till they were around your neck he gripped catching you off guard “you know your safe word?” You nodded slightly. He grinned before shoving his cock inside your small cunt. The feeling splitting you two. His hands grew tighter around your neck, choking out any moans. He leaned back slowly taking his hands off your neck and onto your hips he could feel his cock grow harder as he continues thrusting at a merciless pace “fuck…look at it baby look at how beautiful you are with my cock deep in side of you…destroying you…” you look down and you see it the bulge that appeared with each thrust. You were a moaning mess chan slapped a hand over your mouth “Jun is still sleeping you shouldn’t wake her.” could feel himself growing closer to his orgasm. His thrusts grew sloppy but he made sure to make up for it in depth slamming himself down deep inside you “fuckkk…. “All mine, the babies you’ll be giving birth to MINE, The cock buried deep inside your fat cunt Mine, all mine….” He thrust once more before he felt his climax wash over him. His seed buried deep inside your wet cunt as you wrapped your arms around his back. “I know I know hun” he coos as he slowly pulls out of you not wanting any of his semen to drip out.

“You did so well for me, princess…” he spoke softly as he laid down and pulled you into a hug. You replied with a soft “mmh” he smiles softly and pulls the blanket over the two of you. “Hyunjin can’t fuck you as good as I’ve been..” he whispers hinting that he was still a bit jealous.

You giggle a bit “Chan!…”

The endddddd y’all

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#bang chan #chan skz #skz #skz smut #skz x reader #skz imagines #skz fanfic #skz scenarios #skz fluff #skz stay #skz chan fluff #chan bang #chan smut #Chan bang smut #kpop #kpop smut #smut #mom #married life

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brigoesrahhh · 11 months

Text

"Why are you pink, Papa?"

The Spot x f!reader.

1.1k words.

Summary: You and Spot are married, and have a 4-year-old daughter. One day, you come home from work feeling tired and worn out. You signed out early so you could see Spot and your daughter, hoping they would cheer you up. Spot is delighted to see you, and gets a little eager... Right when your daughter catches you.

CW: SFW with NSFW implications and brief mentions.

Work was really rough today, and left you feeling especially tired. The cycle of getting up with little sleep almost every day and working yourself to your limit only to crash at home, was definitely not healthy. But with your daughter at home, you pushed yourself to provide her with as much as you can.

The night before, Spot had mentioned to you that you two hadn't spent much time together since you had to take care of your daughter. He asked if you would come home early from work tomorrow, so you could relax together. You said you would see how the day went.

While you were at work, tired and worn out as usual, you remembered what Spot had said the night before. All this to say, you just arrived home from work early.

You smile and take off your shoes and coat, putting them away. You walk further into your house, smiling at the sounds of soft laughter throughout the house.

"Spot, I'm home!" you shout up the stairs. He comes rushing down the stairs with your daughter in his arms, swinging her legs in the air and laughing as he storms down the steps. He puts down your kid, and she jumps to hug you before Spot can.

"Hii mama!" she says, while you pick her up and hug her tightly in your arms.

"Hi darling," you say, smiling gently.

Spot stands in front of you, clearly wanting some attention but waiting as patiently as he could. (He's excitedly flapping his hands around.)

You put your daughter down with a kiss to her forehead, and she wanders off, jumping around into another room.

"Hi Spottt~" you tease, before he happily throws himself into your arms.

"I've been waiting for you…" he whispers into your ear, kissing your cheek.

You laugh and return his affectionate gesture, wrapping your arms tightly around him and kissing his forehead. "Yeah, missed you too," you whisper back, feeling a rush of warmth and love.

This only fuels his desire, as he begins to kiss your lips feverishly, as if he's been daydreaming about it.

You giggle at his eagerness and try to match his pace, putting your hand on his neck and kissing him back. As the intensity of the kiss grows, you feel a surge of passion coursing through your veins. The world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you lost in the moment.

"Mm- Spot, we can't do this here," you remind him in between kisses.

He whimpers, "But I can't wait," and gives you a deep kiss once more. You giggle, but you can't help it when a chill runs up your spine. Before you could suggest that you go somewhere more private, he was kissing you again with the same intensity as before.

As the kiss continues, your heart races, and your mind becomes consumed by desire. The connection between you grows stronger, making it even harder to resist the overwhelming temptation.

Shortly after, your daughter wanders back into the room you were all in before, wondering why you hadn't followed her into the house. As she enters the room, her eyes widen in surprise, and her confusion turns into shock as she sees you locked in a passionate embrace with her father. She eventually figures out what was happening between the two of you.

You and Spot are too busy to notice the stunned but devilish expression on her face, and she grins a little bit.

"Aww, you guys are kissing!!" she says excitedly and laughs, tiptoeing around in circles.

You and Spot immediately part the kiss as you realize she was there, and Spot blushes bright pink. You become a little hot, too. The air becomes heavy with awkwardness and a tinge of embarrassment as you quickly break apart, both of you feeling caught in the act.

"Oh- we were uh- yeah.. you're right." Spot says, trying to ease his embarrassment but only making it worse.

You try to lighten the mood by chuckling nervously and saying, "Yeah, we were just caught up in the moment. Sorry about that!" Spot nods in agreement, still blushing, and adds, "It's just that we really like each other." You both exchange sheepish smiles, hoping to alleviate the awkwardness.

"Why are you pink, Papa?" she asks curiously.

You laugh hard at this, which makes Spot's reddening even more intense.

"Well- it's because uhm- I'm a little embarrassed. Do you know what that word means?" He asks.

The toddler shakes her head.

"Ah... well, it means that dada is feeling a little silly, y'know?"

"But you are always silly, dada!" She says, not realizing she was teasing him.

"Oh dear… I suppose you're right," He says, his pink skin beginning to flush out to its normal white color.

You kiss your daughter on the forehead with a giggle and smile at her.

"How about you go hang out with your uncle Hobie, hmm?" You suggest, winking at Spot. "I'm sure he'd love to see you!"

"Yeah!!" She exclaims, jumping excitedly.

"Okay, then I'm gonna call him, he'll be here to pick you up soon!" You say, smiling at her. Spot blushed deeply again at what you were inferring to him.

In the meantime, you called Hobie, and he swiftly agreed to pick up your kid. You briefly hinted at what you wanted to do with Spot, and he caught on. You sighed happily, thankful for his reliability at this moment.

"Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you. I love you Hobs," you whisper into the phone.

Yeah, yeah, now go 'nd fuck 'em good, yeah?" he teases, making you scoff playfully and hang up.

You look at your little girl as she crawls onto Spot's back, and he panics, trying to shrink his portals so she doesn't accidentally slip through.

"Hey! Hey dear, slow down…" He laughs a little, but he was genuinely a little nervous.

"Silly, silly, silly!" She teases him, now tickling his neck. Spot giggles and pretends to fight back, tickling them too.

"Oh my god! Stop it!" He laughs as she continues.

They both share a moment of laughter before Spot playfully pouts and says, "Alright, no more tickling, I surrender!" They continue their entertaining antics, both laughing and catching their breath. Spot looks at you with a grateful smile, excited to have the rest of the day to yourselves.

Hobie arrives soon after to pick up your daughter. She's ecstatic when she sees him, throwing herself into his arms and tightly hugging him. He laughs, always amused by how much she likes him. You thank him for coming by on such short notice, and he smiles at you with a wink before they both say bye and shut the door.

As the door closes, you feel a sense of relief and gratitude towards Hobie for always being there for your daughter. You take a moment to appreciate the bond they share, knowing that she is in good hands. With the house now quiet, you and Spot exchange a knowing glance, ready to make the most of your day together. ;)

#after writing those dad!spot hcs i cant stop thinking about ideas #nobody asked for this but im indulging #i am working on requested stuff i swear LOL #atsv #across the spider verse #jonathan ohnn #the spot #the spot x reader #the spot x f!reader

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naavispider · 1 year

Note

Hey the protective Quaritch hc (more specifically the jacket one) got me thinking about, how does Quaritch (and the other recoms) feels about his son which, last time he checked, was a toddler, being a 6ft tall athletic teenager running around a base full of adults half naked.

I feel he (Quaritch) would be like really wary around the scientist and soldiers. The recoms too but on a smaller degree most of the time.

Spider is probably clueless.

Spider is totally clueless!

"Spider!" Quaritch shouted, his voice rising too loudly around the mess, causing a blanket of silence to fall awkwardly over the crowd of breakfasting soldiers.

Heads turned, but most were wise enough to just avert their eyes and eavesdrop instead. After all, in the quiet buzz inside the ship, the recoms were hardly difficult to hear. Most of the time, Quaritch felt like an exhibit in a museum walking around base, and he was sure the rest of the squad did too. Luckily for them, they enjoyed it. Spider, however, did not have that luxury.

"Get your ass back here!" He hissed through above the now silent crowd.

"But I'm hungry!" Spider called - oblivious to the fact that the hundred or so humans eating breakfast were listening to their every word.

Quaritch sighed deeply, quickening his pace to cross the room and catch up with the kid. As he neared Spider, he caught sight of a couple of the dumber science guys smirking at each other, looking Spider up and down.

"You got a goddamn problem?" he demanded, leaning down over them threateningly. His increased height for once was coming in useful inside the base.

The guys' smug expressions fell off their faces like sand as soon as Quaritch spoke.

"No..." one of the guys said quietly when Quaritch stared them down for an answer.

"Good," Quaritch replied, turning back to Spider, who was helping himself to cereal. It was moments like this when Quaritch wished Spider would accept the clothes he'd been offered. The kid had no idea what went through some peoples' minds, and the knowledge that his teenager was running around a military base close to naked was enough to send a chill down Quaritch's spine. He'd have to talk to the kid.

"Get what you want, we're going back on deck," he said quietly as he approached Spider.

Spider frowned, confused and full of objections. "But why? I can't eat out there!"

Damn. Quaritch forgot about the mask. He sighed. "Okay, fine, but we're still outta here." He cast another glance around the crowd to check for any signs of disrespect. Most of the humans had gone back to eating, and the quiet hum of chatter had resumed.

"Sheesh!" Spider complained, but he didn't raise any more objections as he took his bowl and spoon, and let Quaritch's hand on his back guide him out of the mess.

"You've got to put on some damn clothes," Quaritch started as soon as they were out of the room and away from the soldiers.

Spider's brow furrowed deeply. "Huh? Why?" His tone changed, becoming defensive and defiant. "I told you already, I'm not dressing like a Sky Person. You can't fucking make me."

Quaritch brought a hand up to his brow, and rubbed the stress lines out of his forehead. "Jesus, that's not why-" He stopped himself, unsure how to phrase this. Spider was so young. He forgot how young sometimes. "Look, the guys on base aren't used to seeing someone without clothes on."

Spider scoffed, but Quaritch persevered.

"You don't wanna wear clothes? Fine." Spider looked up at him, calculating Quaritch's angle. "But you're not going back inside, at least in crowded spaces, without something covering you."

"That's crazy."

"No, it's not. You're a kid, and a human. Humans don't wear loincloths."

"So, you're worried what people will think?"

Quaritch had had enough. He wasn't gonna be accused of projecting some kind of self-esteem bullcrap. There was no way he was explaining this now. Even if he knew how, Spider wasn't receptive at the moment. "That's the end of it, do you understand me?"

Spider looked confused at the shut down. He stretched his jaw, trying to work out how to play it. "Okay, calm down..." he finally relented.

He hadn't managed to explain what he wanted to, but for now, Quaritch was satisfied. That talk could wait, if indeed it ever needed to come.

#spider socorro #miles quaritch #recom quaritch #spider miles socorro #spider sully #avatar the way of water #one shot

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whitedarkmoonflower · 7 months

Text

Authors note: this is the third and last part of @sihtricfedaraaahvicius lovely first date fluff request.

Summary: Sihtric – a talented artist – juggles between his passion for painting and his job as a graphic designer. At the corporate Christmas party, Sihtric's unspoken feelings for his boss are tested when a twist of fate brings them closer than expected.

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Warnings: actually none, fluff, suppressed feelings

Word Count: 4,2 K

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek

If you want to be added to the tag list - write to me.

You paced the living room, casting irritated glances at your phone. "Why did I leave it on silent? Maybe I missed a notification," you thought, even though you had checked it roughly fifty times in the past hour.

"Come on! Get a grip," you scolded yourself, rolling your eyes. "You're acting like a lovestruck teen! It's just Sihtric." But even as you thought that, butterflies took flight in your stomach. Who were you trying to kid?

You flopped down on the couch, hugging a cushion. "It's just one text. One little message. Is that too much to ask?" But as the minutes ticked by, the screen remained annoyingly void of new notifications. You huffed, tossing the phone beside you.

"Maaaybe I should text him? No, no. Play it cool," the debate in your mind continued.

Just as you were about to convince yourself to opt for some distraction — Netflix or that pint of ice cream in the freezer — your phone buzzed.

Heart leaping, you snatched it up. The sender's name made your heart race even faster: Sihtric.

The screen lit up with Sihtric's name, and the content of the message made your heart do that weird jumpy thing again.

"Hey, just checking in. Are you okay? What are you up to? Also, is it cool if I call you? I know it's late."

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, a flurry of responses running through your mind from "Yes, please call! I've been waiting!" till "No, I'm totally busy and not thinking about you at all!" Ugh, why was it so hard?

"Keep it chill," you reminded yourself, typing back, "Hey! I'm just relaxing, watching the city lights. Sure, you can call."

You hit send, and the waiting game began. Every second seemed to stretch, and you mentally prepared for the conversation, trying to sound casual and not like you'd been staring at your phone for hours. The phone's ringtone finally broke the silence, and with a deep breath, you swiped to answer.

The moment you picked up the call, Sihtric's familiar voice came through, though this time tinged with a hint of hesitation. "Hey, it's me. I, um... just wanted to make sure things are cool between us. Today was... unexpected."

You could picture him, probably ruffling his hair nervously, maybe even pacing his room just like you'd been doing earlier.

He continued, his voice growing softer, "I've been trying to paint, you know, but it's just... it's not happening. All I can think about is you. It's maddening."

Your heart raced. The honesty in his voice was disarming. You took a moment to find the right words, not wanting to sound too eager or too distant. "Sihtric, about today... I wasn't upset about the kiss, not at all."

There was a short pause on the other end of the line, probably Sihtric absorbing your words.

"You weren't?" he finally asked, hope evident in his tone.

"No," you responded with a chuckle, "And I'm really looking forward to your exhibition. I mean, if you can eventually get back to painting."

You could almost hear the grin in his reply. "I'll manage, especially now."

There was a noticeable pause and you wondered what to say next.

"You know," Sihtric started, his voice a tad shaky, "I've been thinking... The exhibition is still some days away, and I kinda... I mean, I don't really want to wait that long to see you again."

Your heart did a little flip. "What are you getting at, Sihtric?" you teased lightly, though your own voice betrayed your anticipation.

He cleared his throat, gathering courage, "Would you... I mean, would you be up for grabbing dinner or coffee or... I don't know, something before the exhibition? Like, a date?"

Your cheeks warmed up, the boldness of his question catching you off guard, but in a delightful way. "A date, huh?" you mused, drawing out the moment just a tad, relishing in the sweet uncertainty of it.

"Yes," you finally replied, your voice soft but certain, "I'd love that."

Sihtric let out a breathy laugh, relief evident in his tone, "Good. That's... that's really good. How about the day after tomorrow? I've got a few last-minute touches to make for the exhibition," Sihtric's voice resonated with a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation.

"That works for me," you replied, the grin evident in your voice. "Gives me some time to pick out the perfect outfit."

Sihtric chuckled, "You'd look amazing in anything. Alright, day after tomorrow it is."

There was a brief pause, the comforting kind filled with bubbling excitement. "Hey," Sihtric finally said, his tone softer, "Sweet dreams, okay? And... thank you."

You smiled, heart fluttering. "Sweet dreams, Sihtric. I'm looking forward to our date."

"Okay, deep breaths," you whispered to yourself the moment the call ended, dashing to your wardrobe and sliding open the doors. Dresses, skirts, blouses stared back at you, making the choice a torment.

After trying on what felt like half your wardrobe, you flopped onto your bed, tired but with a smile plastered across your face. As you snuggled under your blanket, thoughts of Sihtric floated in — his voice as he said your name, the mischievous grin in his eyes, his lips brushing against yours in that crazy, sweet and passionate kiss. And you slowly drifted off to sleep with his voice playing in your head like a soft, contagious tune.

Meanwhile, at his studio across town, Sihtric stood, brush in hand, in front of a blank canvas. The adrenaline from the call, the buzz of the upcoming date, it was a wild mix of emotions and his heart was doing weird flips. He was in a daze. You weren't mad about the kiss, and hell, you’d even agreed to go out with him. Sihtric felt like he was floating, living out a daydream, his eyes sparkling with glee as the painting started to take shape.

—-------------------------------------

The next morning, as the first light streamed in, Sihtric practically leapt out of bed, his mind racing. "I have just one day to make it perfect," he kept thinking. His desire to make it memorable reached borderline frantic levels. So, what started as a simple dinner plan quickly turned into a reservation at “La Brasserie” – one of the city's most exclusive spots. It was the place for celebs and big shots. And while it was typically booked out for months, Sihtric had some connections and managed to nab a table.

And the ride? Well, he imagined you in a killer outfit, and he wanted the ride to be just as cool. A couple of quick calls, and boom, he got a sleek limo with a professional driver ready to roll up at your door.

Sihtric scratched his head over the question of an appropriate gift. "Jewellery? Is that too much?" he wondered. He found this dainty bracelet with these tiny diamonds that caught the light just right.

Throughout the day, he was a bundle of nerves, second-guessing everything. Was it too much? Would you find it overwhelming? But then he'd remember that twinkle in your eyes, your laugh, and he'd be all in again. He just wanted the night to be as special as what he felt for you.

It was evening already as Sihtric stared at his phone in confusion, his fingers hovering over the phone's keyboard. He wanted to give you a hint without revealing too much, and he wanted to convey his excitement without overwhelming you. With a laugh, he hit the dial.

"Hey! Hope you're good,” he said as soon as you had picked up. “So, I've got a fun plan for tomorrow night, nothing too wild, promise! Just a heads up to expect... a little something. Excited to see you!”

He waited, fingers crossed, hoping he'd struck the right balance.

Hearing Sihtric’s cheerful voice brought a smile to your face.

"Hey there! Look, I'm all in for a fun evening. But let's keep it chill and simple, okay? No fancy places with people trying to show off. And please, no gifts. I'm just looking forward to a good time with you, getting to know the guy behind the canvas."

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

"Man, what was I thinking?" Sihtric mumbled to himself after you had hung up, cringing at the thought of the swanky restaurant reservation. All he wanted was to give you an unforgettable evening, but it seemed he was about to overdo it.

"Alright, deep breaths," he told himself, taking a moment to refocus. "OK, she's obviously into real moments, not big gestures. Easy, chill vibes."

For most folks, a low-key date might mean grabbing coffee or chilling at a park, nothing easier than that. But for Sihtric, this was like a nightmare. He wanted to nail it, to make it perfect and memorable. And how the heck he was supposed to do it in a chill and simple setting?

Every idea Sihtric came up with seemed too over the top or just plain dull. He kept overthinking, "You've got one shot at this, don't blow it!" But the more he thought, the more tangled he felt. And in truth it wasn't even about the date. Deep down, he was just simply scared that he, as just plain old 'Sihtric', wouldn't be enough. He so badly wanted to show you how special you were to him, and doubted profoundly if the ordinary, everyday Sihtric could do that.

And suddenly, it hit him. An idea so simple, yet so... him. Bingo.

—----------------------------------------

Sihtric paused outside your door, a mess of nerves and excitement. He wanted to press the doorbell, then hesitated. It hit him just how wild this was. He was about to take out the very person he'd been low-key crushing on for the last half year, someone who seemed worlds apart from his everyday life just a short while ago.

He inhaled deeply, trying to calm down. Everything he'd rehearsed in his head had suddenly disappeared, leaving his brain empty and blank as a white canvas. Thoughts buzzed around like, "Should I drop a compliment straight up? What if there’s that weird silence? What if…"

"Hey, you got this. Just be real," he tried to encourage himself and pushed the doorbell, crossing his fingers in the hope the night would feel as genuine as he wanted it to be.

The doorbell rang and a tiny "Oh no!" slipped out of your mouth. "Already?!" Glancing in the mirror, you were mentally battling with your outfit choice... again. "Too fancy? Or just boring? Why didn't I plan better?"

Shaking off the nerves, your focus shifted. "Wait, where are my shoes?!" Spotting one near the coffee table, you quickly put it on. Then, snapping the other, you hurried to the door, hopping around on one feet and trying to get that damned shoe on too. You must've looked like a scene from a romantic comedy.

Opening the door with one shoe fully on and the other half-worn, you looked up to find Sihtric's amused eyes on you. There was a brief moment where both of you just looked at each other, taking in the reality of the situation.

A nervous laugh escaped your lips, "Well, this is one way to start a date, huh?"

Sihtric's eyes widened as he took in your appearance and his face broke into a genuine, warm smile, as his laughter met yours, "Keeping things interesting right from the start. I'm here for it."

Sihtric took a moment to really see you. You were glowing, looking effortlessly chic. And while he was totally impressed, there was one small issue: in his frantic effort to find the perfect setting, he had forgotten to warn you that his new plan for the evening involved a bit of a chill. Like the real chill.

"Hey," he began, a little sheepish, "you look amazing, like seriously. But, uh, we might be braving the cold tonight. Maybe something a touch warmer?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks reddened, realising this wasn't a typical way to start a date chat. "Just don’t want you freezing. Trust me, though, it's gonna be cool."

Your eyes sparkled with amusement, appreciating his thoughtfulness. With a smile, you replied, "Give me a moment, and I'll be right back. Cosy and warm it is!"

—---------------------------------------

"Hey, so we're heading to this cool little town about a half-hour away. Grew up there, and trust me, it’s magic this time of year," Sihtric shared in the car, sneaking quick glances your way as he spoke.

You tried to seem focused, but your mind was elsewhere. The dim light from the dashboard illuminated his features just enough for you to notice the fine lines of his profile, the curve of his lips, and the intense concentration in his eyes. He looked different outside the confines of the office - more relaxed, more...himself. And wow, did it look good on him.

It's funny how different settings can make you see someone in a whole new way and in the soft light of Sihtric's car, miles from the daily office buzz, you started to get it - the connection, the vibe between you two that you'd totally missed before.

You got caught staring, and when you looked up, Sihtric was grinning right back at you. "Oops," you mumbled, your cheeks flushing as you quickly turned to the window, but you couldn't help that sly smile creeping on your face.

His laugh broke the moment. "Caught you." The air in the car became slightly charged. The night was young, and you were all in for wherever it might lead.

The little town looked like something emerged out of a fairy tale. Snow everywhere, and those cute houses all lit up. The car pulled to a stop and next moment Sihtric was already out, jogging over to your side and swinging the door open.

"Lady," he smiled, extending his arm out for you to take.

You laughed, playfully rolling your eyes but taking his arm nonetheless. The snow crunched under your feet as you walked, and the cold air filled your lungs, invigorating and refreshing. Sihtric took you on a mini tour, with each street looking like it could be on a postcard. It was super chilly but the warm lights from the houses made everything feel cosy.

Then you neared the park, the distant sound of festive music and laughter growing louder, and you actually thought that you were stepping into a winter wonderland. The trees were adorned with these twinkling lights, making the snow sparkle like with some kind of magic. And then there were these cute stalls everywhere that seriously looked like gingerbread houses from a storybook. They were selling all sorts of cool stuff, and the air was filled with the awesome smell of mulled wine, roasted nuts, and waffles. Just thinking about it made your mouth water.

People were everywhere, chilling around fire pits or grooving to some live music from a band on a small stage.

Sihtric, sensing your wonder, looked down at you, his eyes sparkling with delight. "What do you think?" he asked, the anticipation clear in his voice.

You took a moment, letting the ambiance wash over you, before replying, "It's magical, Sihtric. It's like something out of a movie. Seriously."

His grin got even bigger, and you could tell he was so glad, even relieved you were into it.

The market was just ahead, but right where you stood, the snow was untouched. You couldn’t resist. Gathering up a handful, you quickly shaped it into a snowball. With a sneaky smile, you shouted, "Hey, Sihtric!" The second he looked over, you launched it right at him, nailing him on the arm.

For a moment, he stood there, feigning shock, then a sly smile formed on his lips. "You're so asking for it," he laughed, making up his own snowball.

The next couple minutes were a total chaos. Snowballs whizzed around. Laughter echoed through the chill air, as you both ducked, dodged and chucked snow at each other.

Sihtric, being taller and stronger, had a bit of an advantage. But you were sneaky and kept catching him off guard. At one point, he theatrically dove behind a tree to avoid your throw, only to emerge with a heap of snow on his arms, which he playfully dumped right onto you from behind.

"Hey! Not fair!" you squealed, trying to shake off the cold.

He just chuckled, his eyes shining with mischief. "All's fair in love and snowball wars." He couldn't stop laughing, especially when you landed a snowball on his chest in payback.

With that cheeky glint in his eyes, he suddenly lunged forward, grabbing you around your waist and giving you a twirl. The world seemed to blur – the lights, the stalls, the snow.

When he finally put you down, both of you were breathless and laughing, and for a split second, everything else faded. The rest of the world seemed to be far away, as if you two were caught in a snow globe of your own. You felt the warmth of his gaze, noticed the rosy flush on his cheeks, and how his eyes lit up looking at you. The moment felt so right. He leaned in, and you could feel your heart drumming in your chest. Just as your lips were about to meet, a heap of snow from the tree above decided to tumble down onto both of you. The moment was ruined, but you both just burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter.

Sihtric glanced at your snow-dusted coat and a tiny worry line creased his forehead. As much fun as this was, he didn't want you to freeze. Tossing up his hands in surrender, his playful grin shifted to a warm smile.

"Okay, okay! You've got me! You win!" he exclaimed, dropping to his knees dramatically.

You giggled, triumphantly raising another snowball over your head like a trophy. "Well, what say you, defeated one? How will you buy your way out of this?"

Sihtric looked up at you, eyes sparkling, "How about a peace offering? Some mulled wine and waffles as a sign of my absolute and utter surrender?"

You smirked, considering. "Mulled wine and waffles? Hmm... " Tossing the snowball aside, you continued, "You've got yourself a deal. But let's get one thing straight: I'm the snowball fight champ. No rematches!"

Sihtric chuckled, getting up and brushing off the snow. "Agreed." He offered his arm, which you playfully took, and the two of you, covered in snow and beaming, made your way to the market's warmth.

Sihtric guided you to a stall where the scent of warm spices and wine filled the air. Grinning cheekily, he handed you a mug of hot mulled wine, partly as a truce, but mostly as an attempt to warm you up.

Taking a sip, you felt the comforting warmth seep in. Sihtric, meanwhile, seemed to be lost in a little world of his own. He was watching the little things you probably didn’t even notice you were doing: the way you held the mug, the small sigh of contentment as you took a sip.

The rising steam from the wine swirled around your face, giving you an almost dreamlike appearance. Sihtric realised he was staring a touch too long, but he couldn’t help it. He was just so caught up in the moment, feeling like he wanted nothing more than to wrap up in a big, cosy blanket with you and never let you leave.

After you both finished your drinks, Sihtric brought you the promised waffles and nudged you playfully, suggesting a walk around the market. He kept sneaking these glances, not even trying to hide them. Seeing you like this, all relaxed and bubbly, was so different from the always in control boss back at work. Your laughter, the way you’d stop and admire a cute trinket or close your eyes, while breathing in the yummy smells wafting around — these cute moments were absolute treasures for him; they felt like he was getting to know a part of you he had never seen before. And he was all in for it.

—----------------------------------------

You felt like you had landed in a fairy tale, a cosy and warm fairy tale, but it wasn’t just the wonderful surroundings that gave you that sense; it was actually Sihtric. Every step you took with him was like a breath of fresh air and you couldn't help but notice the ease that surrounded him.

There was something about Sihtric, maybe it was his childlike enthusiasm, his wholehearted laugh or the way he got excited over the tiniest things, that made you forget all the stress and monotony of everyday life.

While wandering around, he stopped at a stall with wooden toys. He took a small soldier and let it march over his palm. Sihtric laughed, giving you a playful nudge. "Look at this," he grinned, showing the toy, "Simple and joyful. Kinda like how I feel right now with you."

Your heart warmed at his words. Being with Sihtric felt like being kids again, back to times when days were carefree and everything was an adventure. You gave his hand a little squeeze, grateful for the lightness and happiness of the moment.

—----------------------------------------

The ride home was easygoing, the radio was playing the usual repertoire for this time of the year, and although you had never been fond of the “Last Christmas”, you found yourself quietly humming along.

In the gentle glow from the dashboard Sihtric sneaked a few quick looks your way now and then, and every time he did, his heart raced a little faster. He couldn’t help but think about the evening over and over again, replaying every smile, every laugh, every touch, wondering if any of it meant as much to you as it did to him. Did you share even a fraction of the emotions he was grappling with? Did your heart race when he was close, just as his did?

At the red lights, he'd let his gaze linger a little longer, trying to read you; taking a breath, he mustered the courage to break the silence.

"Tonight was... kinda amazing, wasn't it?" he said, voice low and a tad unsure.

You turned his way, your eyes locked for a second, and in that fleeting moment, seeing that weird spark in them, Sihtric felt a glimmer of hope, the possibility that maybe, just maybe, you felt something too.

"Was it?" You blurted out, a hint of blush creeping onto your cheeks, mentally kicking yourself for not having something smoother to say.

He chuckled, "Yeah, it was. It's just...you outside of work…You’re… You're... amasing."

You swallowed, feeling a flurry of butterflies in your stomach. "I had a great time too, Sihtric," you finally managed to respond, your voice soft.

The car ride went quiet for a sec. Sihtric cleared his throat, fingers playing on the steering wheel, and stole another quick glance at you.

"There's...uh, there's something I'd like to show you," he started, voice low and kinda shaky. He took a deep breath, as if bracing himself. "It's a place...a place very personal to me. My studio."

Your eyebrows went up. This was new.

He continued, "I've never really shown it to anyone. It's where I paint, where I kinda dump everything going on in my head." He glanced at you, waiting for a reaction, eyes all open and honest. "I'd like you to see it. Only if you want to, of course."

You could sense the significance of his invitation. Taken aback by the depth of the offer, you took a moment to process. This wasn't just about showing a room with paintings. He was offering you a sneak into an important part of who he really was.

"I'd love to see it," you replied softly, touching his arm reassuringly.

A big, relieved smile spread across Sihtric's face, and for the rest of the drive, an air of anticipation enveloped the two of you.

—---------------------------------------

Sihtric pulled up to his apartment complex, but instead of heading straight for the main doors, he headed towards a tucked-away side entrance with some steep stairs.

With every step, the city noise started to get softer, replaced by the muted quiet of the attic.

Unlocking and pushing open a door, Sihtric stepped aside and motioned for you to go in first. Inside was a world of its own: canvases stacked up, paints and brushes all around, rough sketches pinned up, and candles – like, absolutely everywhere.

“I don’t like the harsh light from bulbs when I paint,” he explained, helping you out of your coat and throwing it on a couch in the corner. Sihtric quickly went around, lighting up the candles.

“So, this is it," Sihtric started, sounding a bit hesitant. "My own little corner, my escape. Thought you should see it.”

The dim candle light, paired with the gentle moonlight glow from the window, added a layer of intimacy to the space and left you touched and breathless. Each piece felt so...alive. It was like walking into a dream, where colours danced and whispered tales of hope, love, and heartbreak. And it got you wondering – how had you missed this side of Sihtric?

As you moved from painting to painting, a mix of awe for Sihtric and a touch of self-doubt stirred inside. Here was this stunning, handsome and incredibly talented man, opening up his world to you. What did he see in you?

You halted in front of a particularly crazy cool painting — blue crashing into blazing orange, like a wild dance of peace and chaos. Sihtric was quiet, watching you like he was trying to read your thoughts.

"Wow, it’s so beautiful," you breathed out, more to yourself than him.

He took a step closer, sneaking his arms around you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck.

"Kinda like life, right? A mad mix of the chill and the storm," he whispered.

You turned to face him, "Sihtric, this is just mind-blowing… It's incredible. You are so talented… And now, seeing all this, I … I feel like I have been blind all this time… and I can’t help wondering... why me?"

Sihtric shot you a playful grin, pulling you closer to his chest. "You know, in the crazy ride of my life, you just appeared to be the missing piece. A skill without a heart behind it is worthless. And my heart just chose you."

You smiled at him, gazing into his warm, mismatched eyes. A soft moan slipped from your lips as Sihtric leaned in to kiss you. It was just the first of many moans, sighs, and gasps of pure pleasure you couldn't hold back that night as Sihtric's lips and hands explored every inch of your body. And by dawn, with the room softly lit by morning's first light, you found yourself snug in his embrace, pleasantly tired and breathless, listening to him whispering words of affection and admiration, and all you could think of was how lucky you were that somehow, the stars had aligned and brought you both together on that balcony just in the right moment for this fairy tale to begin.

#sihtric #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #tlk #sihtric fic #sihtric fanfic #sihtric x you #arnas fedaravicius #sihtric x reader #tlk fanfiction #tlk fanfic #tlk fic #sihtric fanfiction

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talesofurbania · 1 year

Note

Hi! I hope you are having a good day, take this waffle, It’s a little trypophobic but I can assure you It tastes good ;D 🧇

Can I ask for a snippet where Hero and Villain have a child, so one day Supervillain kidnaps the child without knowing about their parents, but the kid doesn’t seem or act scared at all, and when they got asked the reason of this, the child is like “Oh my parents are probably coming in this moment lmao” and then BOOM! You have a very pissed hero and villain about to save their baby

I love the overprotective family dynamics 😅, feel free to ignore this if you want

Of course you can!! Thanks so much for the ask (and the waffle, it was delicious :D) I hope you enjoy it. (Sorry for taking so long btw, I wanted it to be just right!)

Both Hero and Villain let out contented sighs as they walked through the front door of their cosy house and dumped their bags in the entryway.

‘Home sweet home’, Hero grinned as Villain kissed them on the cheek. ‘I’ll go get Sky’, they said, heading upstairs while Hero unpacked the groceries they’d picked up on the way home. They heard the muffled sounds of Villain moving upstairs.

All of a sudden a thump reverberated through the house and made Hero freeze with a capsicum in their hand.

‘You alright sweetheart?’, they called, their voice getting higher with worry when nobody responded. ‘Villain?’

They dropped the vegetables and ran up the wooden stairs, finding their spouse standing unnervingly still at the door of their kid’s room. In one hand they held a bright red poppy, in the other an empty needle with drops of some clear liquid still clinging to the insides of the syringe. The bedsheets were rumpled and Sky’s chair had been knocked over on its side. It didn’t take long to put two and two together.

Hero turned to their spouse, eyes wide. ‘He can’t know. He can’t…I mean- we were so careful–’

Villain was finding it hard to speak through the pure terror that had a chokehold around their throat.

‘No’, they whispered. ‘We were careful. There’s no way he can know, I checked and double-checked…’, their words trailed off into a gasp for air as they looked down at their hands. The red dye from the plastic flower smeared over their fingers, reminding them uncomfortably of blood.

_____________

The child watched from their chair as Supervillain paced harriedly in front of them, wringing their hands. If Supervillain hadn’t burst into their house, jabbed them with a needle, kidnapped them and tied them to a dirt metal chair in what looked like a warehouse reinforced with heavy steel doors...well, the kid might have felt sorry for the poor idiot. They only wished they had some popcorn right about now.

‘So what was it you wanted from me again? I kinda zoned out the first time’, they asked Supervillain lazily, lounging as best they could with their hands bound with scratchy rope behind their back. The criminal turned and stared daggers at their captive. Usually, their death glare would have sent even the most hardened murderers running in the opposite direction. Unfortunately for them, the child had seen their own parent practise that same look in the mirror about a thousand times. They were immune.

‘I told you, you little brat’, Supervillain snarled, ‘I saw you at the bombing of the hospital last week. I know you recognised me there so don’t even try denying it. Consider this a warning. You squeal to anyone that I detonated that bomb, those words will be your last.’

‘Mmmkay.’

Supervillain could only stand stunned by this kid’s total lack of fear. Where was the shaking, the sobbing, the begging and screaming that they had come to relish?

‘How the hell can you possibly be so calm?’, they finally asked, curiosity and shock seeping through the crack in their facade. ‘Don’t you know who I am?’

‘Keep your hair on man, I know who you are.’ The kidnappee couldn’t help a smirk as they glanced at Supervillain’s hairless head. ‘And as for the first question, it’s chill, my parents’ll be on their way here right now.’

‘Your PARENTS’, Supervillain scoffed, smarting from the dig at their hair- or lack thereof.

‘And who exactly are your—‘

Supervillain was cut short by the door’s lock, which shot off and slammed into their hip. A split-second later, the door crashed open as Hero and Villain barged through, fully armed and suited up. The child just grinned as Villain aimed a gun at a suddenly pale Supervillain before snarling ‘Get the hell away from our kid.’

#hero x villain #family #hero #villain #hero and villain parents #snippet #ask #writeblr #hero and villain #with a child!!#writing snippet #villains and heroes #sassy child

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hum-suffer · 6 months

Text

Home is an escaped convict

Savi is walking with Rati. The clouds above are turning dark suspiciously fast and Savi curses the incorrect weather news— she has her laundry drying in the goddamn backyard. She hopes it won't rain before she manages to reach home.

It's when she sees that kid Harry running that she stops short.

She doesn't know much of him, only ever knows him because he used to trail after that horrid woman— Petunia Dursley. Savi remembers the confused look the boy had when his supposed aunt insulted Savi for the first time. Before that, during their short isolated meeting, Harry had always known her as the woman who always had flowers on her.

She began seeing him less and less over the years as she was posted from place to place and only heard from the neighborhood that he was in a boarding school for some troublemaking boys. It's only three years ago that she requested a work from home documents verification work because of Nathaniel's death, in order to look after Rati.

But right now, Harry is running with Dudley in tow, the other kid almost stumbling over his steps.

They're running from something.

Her fingers go on the gun that she always carries at her waist holster and Savi pushes Rati behind her. "Close your eyes, baccha. Run as far as you can if I tell you to, okay?"

She hears her daughter's assenting whimper.

She removes the gun from the holster and undoes the safety. Harry seems to see her as she takes a firmer stance and he looks panicked even more. They're nearing her.

Her wound starts to go chill and ache at her knee. She doesn't know why but she feels dread curl up in her spine. Behind her, Rati wraps her arms around Savya's thigh and starts silently crying. The tears at the back of her trousers burn her like acid.

"Ms. Mikaelson!" Harry shouts at her frantically as he nears. He seems even more panicked. She can't see anyone behind them— he probably threw them off or they stopped persuing.

Harry stops dead mere twenty feet away and as absolutely crazy as it sounds, Savi sees something akin to a ghost hovering above the two kids. Two other entities that look identical corner the boys and Savi doesn't know what to do. It looks like a hooded rotten skeleton.

Her wound burns under the colder temperature and Savi readjusts her hold. She sends a mental prayer to Shiva and takes a deep breath.

Dudley falls down, unconscious, and Harry whips out a stick. She doesn't know what it's gonna do but she hopes he intents to stick it in the eyes of the entity, hopefully to slow it down.

Savi tries to move but her hands seen frozen. Behind her, she feels Rati's tiny fists around her pant legs.

For her, she tells herself as she sees Harry fall to his knees as well. As she struggles to move, to overcome the paralysis that has taken over her, she sees the figure lean down to Harry, still hovering in air.

The gun is loaded and with all the might she has, Savi raises her arm.

She shoots.

The entity that was hovering above Harry screams and shrieks— something that makes Savi want to kneel as well. She barely holds on, grabbing Rati's fist in her free hand.

The entity turns to ashes and crumbles, falling onto Harry and the pavement.

Harry shoots her a panicked look but lifts the fucking useless stick and waves it, probably preparing to throw it at the other one. Savi raises her hand again, the rebounding pain from the shot was normal once but Rati isn't used it now. She fights through it and gets ready to shoot again just as Harry shouts something.

She doesn't catch what he's saying but some light comes from the stick—is it some new torch?— and the whispy white light flows like a river and turns to a motherfucking stag.

The stag chases off the other two hooded entities.

Slacked jawed, Savi blinks thrice before she rushes towards Harry, mindful of her pace since Rati's hand is in hers.

"Harry!" She calls him beforehand to alert her about her proximity in case he is in shock. "Kid, you okay? Dudley?"

Harry is shaking, trembling extremely obviously all over and Savi kneels beside him instinctively. "Can you breathe with me, kid?"

She takes an obviously deep breath and continues the exercise until he starts to copy her. Meanwhile, Rati goes over to Dudley. Out of the corner of her eye, Savi sees Rati put her hand on the boy's chest— probably listening for his heartbeat. Her clever little girl.

When Harry finally stops shaking.

"Thank you, Ms. Mikaelson." He sighs shakily. He gets up and looks down at his cousin, still sweating and his t-shirt clinging to him. Rati makes a gesture that Savi recognises as 'sleep'. Harry makes a questioning noise.

"The boy is unconscious," Savi says. "Come, I'll help you two get home." Rati stomps her foot. "Apologies, I mean we will help you."

"You...you saw them." He says it almost unbelievably, sounding terrified. "You saw me doing that."

"I did. And you saw me shooting something dead. Balance tallied." She tries to brush it off as something that she won't lose sleep over because it obviously isn't even her top ten moments of horror. She can deal with hodded rotting corpses. She just hates Rati was anywhere near this.

Behind them, they hear a thud of something falling. Savi points her gun at the noise, aware that those entities may be back.

It's just Mrs. Figg.

____________________________________________________

Savi doesn't know what's gotten into Mrs. Figg but if she doesn't stop victim blaming the fifteen year old child, Savi will sin and hit the fucking old goat.

She keeps muttering something about some dude called Dumbledore and something about someone called Mundungus. Beside her, Rati childishly giggles at the word Dung. Savi doesn't chastise her at all, busy slugging around the unconscious teen.

"You do realise that this boy is a child and you're making him slug around his cousin?" Savi interrupts her on going scardy rant,"You should be acting like an adult and taking Dudley's other side, not forcing Harry to carry half of him."

Mrs. Figg huffs. "I am in my old-age. I'm sure you will know."

"I have a bullet lodged in my kneecap." Savi deadpans and pointedly looks at the arm of the boy around her shoulders she's using to support the kid.

Mrs. Figg colours with a blush but doesn't move to elivate Harry's burden.

Bitch.

____________________________________________________

Savi ignores the fussing and shouting of the Dursley parents and goes to leave the house with her daughter the moment she deposits their son on an arm chair but takes a look at Harry.

"I'm going to wait up till midnight," she whispers to Harry discreetly as Petunia wails about her son and her husband goes off to get water,"if your bedroom light goes on and off thrice at midnight, I'll come resuce you. Same if I don't see you at the park overmorrow."

Harry looks surprised.

"I'll come for you, kid, I promise."

Because she has a child too. And the bruise at Harry's throat isn't how any child should be treated, ever. And she thinks it absolutely matches the shape of Vernon's hand.

Harry nods jerkily, almost robotic in motion. Rati waves bye at him and he flashes her a quick smile.

____________________________________________________

It's far before midnight. She plans to go to the Dursley's in two hours, just in case Harry needs her earlier than planned.

Rati shifts in Savi's arms and she hears a knock at the door. She grabs the gun from under her pillow and moves out of the bed as swiftly as she can, making sure to put Rati nearer to the wall so she doesn't fall.

She creeps downstairs just as there's another, more urgent and more firm knock.

"Who's it?" She asks, hand on the table near the end of the stairs which holds a knife for situations like these.

"It's Harry, Ms. Mikaelson."

It's the kid, yeah, but he sounds nervous. Savi keeps her gun out as she opens the locks on the door and pulls it open. She has it instantly trained on the man standing behind Harry.

He's tall with sandy hair, perhaps her age, and has something about his aura that makes her hand stand on her arms. He reeks of danger.

"Ms. Mikaelson, don't shoot! He's my friend!" Harry says, panicked. "He said he wants to explain to you about the dementors, please, it would be a huge help for me, ma'am!"

"Deme what now?" Savi doesn't lower her gun but she looks at Harry. "I want to help you, kid, I do. But I need to know I can trust a stranger with my privacy and my family."

The man bows his head. "If it helps, I promise that you needn't invite me beyond this hallway. I will stay in your line of sight and I do not ask you to let go of your weapon."

Savi hears a tink upstairs, the thing that she'd taught Rati to signal that she is awake. She clenchs her jaw.

"I was in the army," she says,"I will blow your brains out and know how to hide your body if I see you making some unwanted actions."

He nods, completely serious. Harry gapes at her and she regrets that she has to do this in front of a child but Rati's safety matters more.

"You don't leave my sight." She says as she opens the door wider. She spies similar sticks in both their hands and narrows her eyes. "Give your play sticks over, messers."

"Ma'am—" Harry starts to speak but the man sighs and puts a hand on his shoulder. Reluctantly, Harry passes over his stick to the man, who hands them to her.

"You've got five minutes, boys."

____________________________________________________

Remus, the sandy haired guy, had to show her that he could teleport before she trusted that they could do magic. Hearing Harry plead that her testimony would be extremely useful to plead self defence in his case of apparently performing magic without authorisation had made her melt.

Savi wishes that it wasn't the case as she walks into a grossly populated house. Harry is smothered with greetings and smiles but he doesn't stray from Savi's side. She's grateful, one hand holding Rati while other stays at Harry's elbow.

He only detaches himself from her when another man, a brunett this time, comes forward. He's got shoulder length hair and he looks lanky in a way that screams of malnourishment and Savi thinks she's seen him somewhere.

Her heart starts to beat faster in her chest as she realises just who Harry is hugging for dear life. She doesn't interrupt the moment but fingers her gun at her thigh holster.

"Harry," she says as he untangles from the beaming man,"why are you hugging an escaped convict?"

The cheerful atmosphere freezes and something hostile burns in the air. The man, she doesn't remember his name, gazes at her with piercing silver eyes. "And you would be?"

"The only goddamn adult in his life who asked him if he was alright after being attacked." She glances at the way the man has his hand on Harry's shoulder but Harry seems completely relaxed— at home, even.

"Ms. Mikaelson, he is innocent!" Harry says frantically as his eyes go to her gun. "He was framed, I swear on this. He didn't even have a trial! The real culprit is someone else, please, trust me!"

"My friend is a victim of injustice, Ms. Mikaelson." Remus says, eyes blazing,"I understand your mistrust, but please, listen to the us."

The man she doesn't remember the name of scoffs. Savi keeps looking at Harry. "You'll explain what's going to me, and I promise to listen. I trust you, kid. Give me the truth."

A woman, ginger hair and wrinkles on her face, tries to usher them all inside. She touches Rati's shoulder and Savi instantly lifts her daughter in her arms. Her hand shoots out and she keeps the woman's hand away from Rati. "I'm going to stay nearest to the bloody exit. And the next time anyone tries to touch my daughter without her express permission, ask Harry what a gun can do."

Savi backs herself nearer to the door and let's Rati hide her face in her shoulder as Harry gives a rushed account of apparently what happened when some old ass dark lord killed his parents.

Sirius, she finds the man is called, flinches at points in the story. Savi sees his hand on Harry's shoulder tighten and tremble.

"I'm sorry you lost so much." She says at last, adjusting her sleeping daughter in her arms. "And I apologise for doubting you, Harry."

By this, they're the only people in the corridor, except for a pair of twin ginger haired boys that Savi thinks are the audacious woman's sons. "It's alright," Harry says bitterly,"At least you trust my word for it."

"Now that that's cleared with," Sirius says, eyes glinting,"who are you?"

"Ex-Sergeant Savya Mikaelson." She answers, shifting her jaw as if it could throw out the harsher accent she adopts during army business. "I live in Privet Drive, I've seen Harry around since he was a kid. Don't see him around much now— probably due to that school of witchiness."

"Magic." Remus corrects.

Savi waves him off.

____________________________________________________

Rati briefly wakes up when Harry shouts at his friends about abandoning him after he witness his arch nemisis kill his friend.

The only defense they have is that someone, that fucking Dumbledore guy Figg was talking about, told them not to. It's during their weak defense that Rati wakes up and shifts, probably wanting to be put down.

Savya sets her down on her lap. "And what does my sweetheart want?"

Rati shows her throat and rubs it, a sign she copied off Nathaniel. Savi drops a kiss to her forehead and asks a newly dubbed Tonks to get her a glass of water.

She's only thankful that Rati has school off for the summer. Such interrupted sleep will make her cranky and irritated tomorrow (or is it today?). While Savi helps Rati drink some water, she hears more people enter the kitchen.

She spots Harry being ushered by the previous woman, Mrs. Weasley, and she waves him near.

Rati gives him an excited wave and grins at him. Harry chuckles back but Savi knows it's strained at best. He's tired and angry and probably drained, that poor boy.

"I hate to ask this of you, kiddo," she says, completely ignoring how Sirius and Remus immediately turn to keep track of Harry. "But can you look after Rati for sometime while I gather some more information over your situation? If you don't understand what she's trying to say, give her a pen and a paper, she will write it down."

Rati, that absolute clown, mimics writing something on the table. Savi recognises it as the Hindi word for 'tired'. She chuckles and kisses her head again. Rati sticks her tongue out at Savi. Harry laughs, freer now, and nods.

Rati readily hops down from Savi's lap and latches onto Harry's outstretched hand. Savi stops them with a hand on Harry's elbow. "No one but you touches her, okay?" Harry looks hesitant for a moment and she fully considers taking her daughter away but he nods and then nods again more firmly, pulling Rati closer.

She gives him a nod back and watches as he talks to her quietly as they walk, ignoring his friends altogether.

____________________________________________________

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dumbawesomev69 · 14 days

Text

Arc Giga

Dorm living room

Team rwby were waiting with worried expressions as Ruby was pacing back and forth, yang was leaning against the wall tapping her foot impatient while crossing her arms, blake while being the quiet one she sat in silence but her bow twitch every minute looking around waiting for something to happen and Weiss finally spoke her mind.

Weiss: Oh for the brother's sake! What's taking them so long it's been three hours!

Blake: two hours.

Weiss: whatever! They should be here by now!

Suddenly the door opened revealing their sister team however one of the members wasn't with them.

Team rwby gather around them asking questions about one person. "How's jaune!?"

Pyrrha: he's fine, they managed to sedate him and move him to the basement and lock the entrance.

Lie ren: They also contacted his sister who notified their parents, said they'll send the medicine for jaune but won't be here until a few weeks is for now jaune is on his own.

You may be wondering what is going on well let me explain you see our favorite lovable blonde boy jaune is a faunus but not just any faunus but a prehistoric one called a dino faunus thought to be extinct or fairy tales.

But jaune is one, a Giganotosaurus meaning he's much larger than other faunus on the size of an elephant faunus (just to give you an idea he dwarfs over yatsuhashi and elm) however he's not only he's a rare he's also an apex on like an alpha, apex's are extremely more powerful and aggressive. For jaune case he gets it from his great, great, great, great, great, gre-uh skip a generation, great-grandmother who had a rage semblance when she takes enough damage she goes crazy and it didn't help for the fact that she was a dino faunus but a Brachiosaurus.

Because of that jaune developed a rage mode where he will lose control and hurt/kill everything especially when he was a kid occasional he'll wander in the forest and will be later found surrounded by destroy trees, dead grim or the occasional bandits of course he managed to control it however like many faunus it's that time of year... Mating season where many find a mate but for jaune that's a difference because being an apex means that many faunus are afraid of him whether they are alphas or other small carnivores.

Plus jaune never thought about having kids yet but because of that jaune went through the season so many times he became extremely aggressive towards everyone and everything plus his rage Jaune with a walking bomb.

Team rwby and team npr were all saddened as Ruby spoke up. "There's got to be a way to help him."

Pyrrha: the only way to help him if he takes his special suppressed pills or mate with him but the second option is extremely dangerous his father explained it but his mother seem to encourage it.

Yang: Still we got to do some or poor vomit boy will stay like this forever!

Both teams were interrupted when they heard a mighty roar that shook the build, making Blake shake in fear as they all immediately knew who it was as Nora looked down whispering to herself. "Don't worry, Fearless leader We will think of something."

Late at night

Pyrrha was laying in bed as she turned over to an empty bed where jaune used to sleep but now he's sleeping in the basement as the shattered moonlight shines through the window the Spartan champion made a decision.

Sneaking out of bed carefully not to wake her two teammates up before grabbing a flashlight and head off towards the main school walking down the halls towards the basement as the door was tightly secured until Pyrrha used her semblance to unlock the door.

She opened the door slowly making loud creaking before heading down but closed the door behind her not wanting anything to see or panic. As she walks down the stairs she couldn't help but felt an odd chill run down her spine but ignore it as she makes it down the stairs.

She carefully moves around trying to find jaune, she starts to sweat in fear but thankfully there is a warm breeze to calm down. "Wait a minute, how can there be a breeze when there are no windows or any opening for air to come in unless..."

Pyrrha slowly turns around spotting two glowing eyes as she shines the light revealing shirtless jaune arc as he lets out a roar making Pyrrha screams as he launches at her. She avoided his attack as she wished to bring her shield as jaune swings at her Pyrrha again avoided it however she didn't see his large tail.

It hit her, sending her flying against the wall thankfully her Aura protected her but it still hurt as she tried to stand up but jaune pin her down as he kneel down to her growling next to her ear as he whispers in a deep voice.

"Submit"

Pyrrha did as he told her and submitted to him as a wide grin covered his face as he lifted his hand off of her and started its way down and before she knew her half pajamas were torn off as jaune chuckles as he started rubbing her pussy.

"Wow Pyrrha already wet just from me touching you, well that small fight got me thirsty."

Jaune moves down lowering his hand and opens his mouth revealing his razor sharp teeth before closing around Pyrrha crotch area and started sucking.

Pyrrha moans feeling his mouth muscles working and his tongue enters inside her feeling near her womb as Pyrrha couldn't hold it in and cum to which jaune drank all of it as he removed his mouths licking his lips as he removed his boxers revealing a tape down cup.

He ripped off making growl in pain letting loose his large dick as Pyrrha stared in complete shock as her face turned red as jaune grabbing it with one pointing it down as he uses his other hand to tear the rest of Pyrrha clothes and slowly but firmly shove it in her making Pyrrha to scream in pain.

Tears form around Pyrrha's eyes as they started streaming down but suddenly jaune started licking her face as she saw his eyes weren't glowing anymore. "Don't worry Pyrrha I got you."

Jaune spoke in his normal voice making Pyrrha smile as they didn't move for a while until she gave him the go to move. He started thrusting as he held on to her with one hand as the other played with her breast before he lends in and started sucking them care not or bite them with his teeth.

Pyrrha: Oh jaune~ go easy on them.

Jaune: I can't help it, they are so good I can't wait for them to give milk~.

Before Pyrrha can reply jaune stood up as he started thrusting even hard as he wraps his arms around her and her legs slamming deeper inside her as she moans louder feeling womb completely filled with jaune.

Jaune: I'm going to come and I won't stop filling you until you're pregnant with my kids.

Pyrrha: Then do it! Make me a mother!

With a few more thrust jaune release years of not mating finally was xom out as screams in pleasure as her stomach expanded, tongue sticking out, eyes widen as jaune roar as he held onto her not letting go until his seed spit out.

He carefully pulled Pyrrha off and a wave of his seed poured out as he lay her against the wall smirking. "Team rwby who wants to go first?"

Up on the stairs was team rwby naked as they stood their faces red they made their way down each bowing down. "We're ready for you."

It wasn't long as Ruby was moaning as jaune held her head down, ass up and slamming down on her as Ruby moaned. "Yes! Jaune fuck me! Make me your slut!" Jaune once more came filling Ruby womb with his hot seed.

Yang was on all fours as jaune mounted her, grabbing her hair pulling it as he slapped her ass. "You like this uh you blonde bitch!"

Yang moans out. "Yes! I do when you do it! Now make me a mommy too!" Jaune pulled harder as he thrusts even harder until coming inside. "Oh yeah it's so warm!" Yang moans out as jaune chuckles.

Blake was getting mating press as jaune used his tongue to mind fuck her. "This is so FUCKEN kinky!" Blake moans out as jaune pulls his tongue back. "Oh this is just the beginning." He started thrusting faster as Blake started meowing before letting out the loudest nya ever as jaune seed filled her up. "I'm going to have so many kittens!" Jaune roared out as he said. "I like to see how that monkey fucker reacts when he finds out, his crush is getting breed by me!"

Finally it was Weiss turn as jaune sat back as she started pushing herself onto him which was cute. "Weiss you sure you got this." Weiss pouted. "Of course, it's just hard to put your thing inside me." Jaune smiles as he decides to help her by grabbing one of her legs and pulling which causes her to fall on top of jaune's dick immediately tears start forming but jaune calms her down by grabbing her cheek and rubbing it. "It's alright snow queen, you're fine."

Weiss smiles, after sometime she starts moving which as jaune moans he asks. "bet Neptune wasn't as big as I am." Weiss blush. "Actually we never did it nor kiss even." Jaune smirks as he pulls Weiss in for a deep French kiss shoving his tongue down her throat making her gag before he pulls back. "Well now it's time for me to make sure that blue hair mother fucker don't get near you nor try to claim you." Jaune grabbed a hold of Weiss and started thrusting crazy as he saw Weiss small stomach bulges out as weiss face was distorted as Jaune continued before releasing filling the ice queen small womb with his Apex seed.

By the time jaune finished breed Pyrrha and team rwby he was still hard as the girls started licking his dick and sucking his balls before jaune carried them to his dorm living room where he placed them down when he heard glass shattering.

He looks to find ren standing in the kitchen frozen in fear as jaune moves over to her towering over her shaking body before rubbing her cheek. "Ren don't worry I won't hurt you." He then tore off her pajamas and picked her up then kissing her ramming his tongue down her throat.

Ren moans as she feels his tongue taking over her mouth before jaune pulls back leaving a trail of saliva as he places her on the kitchen table opening her legs. "So wet guess I won't need to warm you up anymore." With one motion he inserted himself inside of her as he starts thrusting.

Ren's eyes widened as she looked to see her bulging stomach as jaune held her sides and started moving faster making her moan as she wrapped her legs around him not letting go as he got even faster. "Jaune, oh fuck s..she's asleep in the room I want you to go ravage once your done with me."

Jaune smirks as he leads down to her. "Good idea for that I'll make sure that when you give birth, I'll impregnate you again first." Ren smiles. "Yes master please do." With a few more thrust jaune release filling ren up before slowly pulling out letting his seed pour out of her as jaune clean up the broken glass and headed towards the dorm room where he saw Nora sleeping peacefully.

He approached quietly as he got to her bed he saw she had his pumpkin Pete custom-made sweater holding it tightly which made jaune smiles as he started rubbing her ass. Nora moans a bit as jaune removes her underwear and spreads her cheeks as he shoves it in again making her moan as jaune feed until he stops as jaune slowly mount her whispering her to waking her.

"Nora wake up". Nora opened slowly when she saw jaune which got her confused. "Jaune-jaune? Is this a dream?" Jaune smirks. "Let's see." Without warning he ram straight inside her not only waking her up but causing her to moan loudly as jaune wrap a arm around her neck holding her in place before thrusting with no mercy.

Nora gritted her teeth as jaune held onto her as he was ramming her nonstop. "God Nora your pussy is so tight and warm!" Nora just moans as jaune slaps her ass. "God I can't wait for you to be pregnant with my kids I wonder if your milk will taste like pancakes and syrup." Nora continued to moan until jaune roared out as he came releasing his seed inside her making Nora to moan louder.

Jaune let's go as Nora then pushed him onto his back where she looked at him straight in the eyes before slamming herself onto him. "Fearless master I'm not done yet, in fact we are not done yet." Jaune looked towards the doorway, finding the others standing there ready for another to which he smiles.

"well then, let's get busy~"

To be continued

#Ark Giganotosaurus #rwby #Jaune x harem #lemon #Giganotosaurus! faunus jaune #ark survival evolved #gender bender

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