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#i can’t believe we’re still fighting for this shit
sl0t4matt · 23 hours
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Marc Guiu and reader making up after an argument pls
m. guiu | into it
ik hector doesn’t have his license yet but here he does ok?! also sorry i got carried away and wrote smut :o
warnings: toxic relationship, smut, not proof read
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“are you actually fucking kidding me, marc?” you scoff, grabbing your things ready to leave. you were sick of his shit. sick of him taking his anger out on you when you did nothing but support and be there for him. how could be so mean? you understand that him loosing a game would get him upset, but making it seem like it’s your fault, when he should’ve been the one to kick the ball in the net is just not fair.
“yeah run away, like you always do when it gets tough.” he walks after you, shrugging his shoulders. “marc, don’t you take your shit out on me, because the both of us know it’s literally not on me you can’t kick a ball.” you shake your head, clearly having enough of your boyfriends whining. “fuck you can be such a-.” he stops himself before saying something stupid. “yeah, no we’re done. don’t even try to call me because i won’t come back. i mean it this time.”
you walk out the house, catching marc’s sister on the way. “hey, what happened, i heard yelling, are you guys okay?” she gives you an concerned look, probably noticing the tears that have been building up in the corner of your eyes.
before you completely break down in front of her, you decide to give her a nod, before leaving. you couldn’t believe marc. he has gotten mad about his team losing many times, but it has never been this bad. sure you would fight, it’s just something that was part of your relationship, but maybe that isn’t so normal after all.
you were both toxic playing stupid games with each other like how to make the other jealous. you loved it, the fights, the trouble. it’s what kept your relationship entertaining, but now you weren’t so sure anymore.
just fucking great! now you have to walk home. you go to walk on the other side of the street, when you suddenly hear a honk, making you jump. you turn to see hectors car stopping beside you. “shit, you scared me! what the hell are you doing here.” you sigh, shaking your head. “came to take you home.” he answers. “i’m f-.” “just get in the damn car, y/n.” hector interrupts you. you roll your eyes, walking to the passenger seat.
you wouldn’t have needed him to drive you if it wasn’t so dark out. “did marc tell you to drive me?” you ask, looking over at him. he doesn’t reply, instead he keeps looking at the road not giving a reaction, so you must take his silence as an answer. “what happened?” you can’t help but scoff. “as if marc didn’t tell you already.” he shakes his head. “he didn’t. he just told me he fucked up again and that i should pick you up.”
“we’ll at least he knows he did.” you breathe out a laugh. “seriously, what happened?” he repeats. “he’s just bitching about the lose of the game and literally behaves like a child, acting like it’s my fault. he also almost called me a bitch… so told him we’re done.” hectors eyes widen, looking like they are about to pop out. “wait what? you broke up with him, like for real this time.”
you giggle, nodding. “i’m just done with all the fights, you know.” you look out the window watching the peaceful road, with almost no cars to be seen. “but you guys love it.” he furrows. “i’m just tired lf it, you know?” he nods. “that’s fair, he’s dumb for treating you like that.” hector says, before shutting the motor down, because you arrived home. “what are you doing right now?” you ask hector, since you guys haven’t talked much previously. “nothing, why?” you smirk. “you have to stay with me! we haven’t had our gossip sessions in so long.” you nudge him. “yeah, if that makes you feel better.” he smiles shrugging. “definitely. god, there’s so much tea!!” you walk over to your house
“i still love him, even if he does stupid shit like that you know.” you tell hector, while stuffing the chips in your mouth. you would probably die if anyone saw you like this, but it’s only hector, he’s seen you your worst times. even though he’s marc’s best friend, he never told him anything when you would talk about him. that’s why you can talk so openly with him about anything, he just won’t tell anyone. “then why don’t you get back with him?” hector asks. a knock on the door cuts in your conversation. “y/n?” you hear marc’s voice, making hectors mouth drop in a gasp.
shit, this looks so wrong right now, with hector laying in your bed as well as yourself. you walk over to the door, opening it a tiny bit to see his sad looking face. he genuinely looks like he’s sorry. you look back to hector that sits dumbfound in your bed. “who’s in there?” marc asks. you shake your head. “no one.” you answer way too quick. he pushes open your door, revealing hector that is sat on your bed. you look him in the eyes to see an hint of reaction, but he doesn’t show any.
“why is he here?” marc asks, way too calm, it’s almost scaring you. “we just talked.” you say your eyes meeting with the ground, mentally preparing yourself for the yelling. “okay.” he just nods. you look up at him, a furrow on your face. have you heard that right? “can i talk to you..alone?” marc scratches the back of his head, nervously. you nod following him out.
“did you fuck him?” woah straight to it marc! also what the fuck? “what the fuck, no!” you exclaim. “okay.” he nods. “marc, can you explain yourself other than replying with an “okay”. why are you here?” he just keeps head low. he almost looks like.. he’s intimidated by you.
“i wanted to apologise.” he finally looks at you. suddenly hector comes out of your room. he points to the door awkwardly, mentioning he’s gonna leave. you give him a smile before looking back at marc.
“marc..” you start. “no please, don’t say anything, just hear me out. i shouldn’t have talked to you the way that i did. it was stupid of me to take everything out on you, because you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me and i would never want you to feel guilty of something that i did. i understand that you probably never wanna talk to me again, but i just need to make sure that despite what i said, you know that i love you.” something in the way he’s saying it makes you believe him, but you’re not sure if you can forgive him so soon.
but fuck, he has no right to look this good right now, you’re supposed to be mad at him! his lips plump and red from the way he’s been biting on them nervously, his biceps broad and strong as he crosses his arms and his eyes looking lowly down on you. how can you be mad at him, when he looks like that? “you’re on probation, i guess.” marc’s eyes light up. “what’s that supposed to mean? please. are you ever going to forgive me?” he asks, needing to know. “like i said, you’re on probation.” you reply, getting closer to him. “that isn’t a yes, y/n. do i need to get on my knees and beg for you?” you can’t help but smirk. “getting on your knees wouldn’t be such a bad idea, actually.”
“fucking hell, well we can always make that happen, ma.” his hand makes its way to your waist, pulling you onto him. in a matter of seconds his lips are on your’s. he tightens his hands on your waist and runs the other up your back, pressing you harder into his chest. your hands move in his hair, pulling him closer, if that’s even possible. he parts your lips with his tongue, to deepen the kiss. his hand on your waist loosens and trails down the side of your body, until he turns it to grab your ass. he lets out a low groan, bringing his other hand also down on your ass. you pull on his bottom lip slightly, making him smile in the kiss before reconnecting them again.
he squeezes your butt, muttering a quick “jump.” before picking you up and carrying you to your bed. he sits down, your legs each spread as you straddle him. he grips your hips, moving them back and forth so you’ll grind on him.
he groans as you feel his dick twitching under your cunt. he unbuttons his pants, making you slide your hand in them to feel his hard and veiny dick. you always forget how big he is.
he groans, taking your hand out of his boxers. “i want to make you feel good.” can he get any hotter? you smile at him, while dropping beside him on the bed. he lifts your arms before taking off your top and throwing it on the ground. he begins sucking and kissing your neck, most likely in order to cause hicky’s so everyone knows who you belong to, but it feels too good right now, to care about. his hand slides down to your loose pyjama shorts, touching your clit. you let out a whimper. you forgot how well he knew what you liked. “you look so good, ma.” he now kisses your tits also sucking on them like a newborn.
his mouth moves back on your’s, when he slides his cold fingers into your shorts, forming goosebumps on your skin. he immediately finds your hole pushing his fingers inside of you without an warning. he keeps stretching your walls, causing you to moan in his mouth. you part your mouth in the kiss, marc taking the opportunity to bite on your button lip, tasting your cherry flavoured lipgloss. he plumps his fingers in and out of you, whispering sweet words in your ear, in order to show his love for you.
his mouth moves from your face, down to your body, where you need him the most. he starts eating you out like his live depends on it licking and sucking in all your juices. you push his head deeper in your cunt, needing to feel him deeper. “marc i need your dick, please.” you moan. he looks up to you, eyes glistening, having waited for you to say that. as soon as the words left your mouth, he instantly turns you around, having your face meet with the pillow. he pulls your pants down, following with his own. you turn your head to watch him pull out his dick. lord, you’re not sure if you’re ever going to get used to his size.
he stretches your cunt as he slides into you, having you bite in the pillow in order to not let embarrassing sounds out of you. he fills you up moving, his dick in and out of you. your eyes almost fall to the back of your head, from rolling them as he fucks into you relentlessly. “fuck, so tight, ma.” he groans. you move your ass up, for yourself to feel him deeper, according to the fact he isn’t fully in you yet. “fuck, y/n. if you do that one more time i’m gonna come.” he curses.
he buries his dick deeper inside of you, his balls hitting your butt, making you whine of pleasure. he spanks your ass, fastening his peace. “marc!” you cry, as you feel him hitting your g spot. he moves rapidly, squeezing your waist. your legs begin shaking, signalling marc that, you’re gonna come. “do it.” he demands. with a cry, you cum around his cock, making him twist inside of you and pull out, coming on your belly.
he breathes heavily, his sweaty chest rising and falling with each breathe he takes. “fuck.” he mutters before getting up to take a towel from your bathroom. you look on your cum covered stomach, then back at marc that’s coming back with the towel. he smiles slightly, as he wipes it all off of you. “how are you?” he goes to lay beside you, his arms naturally finding their way to your waist, hugging you. “for a person that won’t be able to walk for the next hours, i’m doing great actually.” he laughs, pecking your shoulder.
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wiser-girl · 1 year
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Ok it’s 4am and I’m working all day later but it was worth it for my Crows content <3
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empresskylo · 7 months
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➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓
ZOMBIE!SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X AFAB!READER
SUMMARY | Simon is dead. And you were forced to leave him behind as the rise of the dead took over. When you volunteer to sneak back into base to grab med supplies, you don't expect to run into Simon—alive, but certainly not himself...
WARNINGS | dead dove do not eat! this is literally smut about zombie!ghost... so... beware i suppose. gore. dub-con?? afab!reader. wc 3k
⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ lock me up! send me to jail!!! i can't believe I wrote this yes i can. This is how down bad i am for Ghost, I literally wrote smut about fucking him as a zombie... someone send the authorities, i need my internet taken away. (happy oct 1st btw)
𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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It had been less than two days since you lost Simon.
The image of him dying in the infirmary wing, bleeding out on the bed, was plastered behind your eyes. You saw it every waking moment and even dreamt of it during the night. You could still feel Soap’s hands squeezing your arms far too aggressively as he dragged you out of the infirmary while you cried out for Simon. You tried to claw your way to him but Soap was stronger than you by a long shot. “We have to get out of here!” he shouted at you over the cacophony of voices, people running around frantically. You let him drag you away to safety, your body limp in his hold, thinking of Simon’s dying breath.
The infirmary had promptly been boarded up, the doors all sealed tight. The breakout had begun a few weeks ago and it only just infiltrated the base. When Ghost had come back, bleeding out after a mission gone wrong, you furiously checked him for bite marks. The relief you felt when you didn’t find any was short-lived. Simon had lost a lot of blood. Too much blood. You could still see it covering your hands the days following like a wraith. You felt like his blood was still wedged under your fingernails even after scrubbing your hands violently in a bucket of water. 
With the infirmary infected and the outside world gone, you had little options but to hunker down in the barracks. There were small hunting groups that would leave base and dare to edge into the city, trying to help people, and gathering resources. Ghost had been in one of those first groups to leave the safe confines of base. You wished you had begged him to stay. Pleaded with him not to go. 
The lights above you flickered, the generator not the most reliable of equipment. You looked across the table to your teammates, trying to keep yourself pulled together. It was only at night that you let yourself feel the pain, crying yourself to sleep. 
“We’re never gonna survive here if we don’t get that medical supplies,” Soap explained. 
“It’s too dangerous, Soap. We have no idea how bad it got in there. We have no way of knowing if all the bodies left behind turned,” Price retorted, pulling off his beanie and running his hand through his hair in nerves. 
“So, what then? We’re gonna send more men off to die, tryin’ to get shit from the city?”
Price closed his eyes momentarily. The bags forming under them showed just how little sleep he was getting. “We can’t risk more men. We’d be sendin’ them to their death, Soap. We don’t have the ammo to spare.”
“We don’t know that. We’re still not even sure if it's a guarantee the dead will change, or if they have to be bit.”
“It’s too–”
You cut the men off. “I can go.” Both their heads snapped in your direction. “I’m just a technician. With everything gone to shit, I haven’t been as much help as you guys have been. I can’t fight. I can’t–”
“No. We’re not riskin’ you,” Soap said sternly. 
“Soap,” you breathed. “I’m the only one here that isn’t crucial to the team. And don’t argue with me. It’s just a fact. Let me go. I can sneak in and grab what we need. I’m far quieter than any of you boisterous men anyways.”
Soap breathed your name. He was worried about you. He could see the pain in your eyes after losing Simon. He was worried this was a suicide mission. And that you wanted that. 
“Let me be of use,” you begged. Soap wanted to argue. So did Price. But you were right. You would be the fastest. And as much as they valued you, the remaining men couldn’t survive here without Soap or Price. 
“Lass, are you sure?” Soap said finally. He wanted you to feel useful, but he didn’t want you running off and risking your life because of the pain you felt from losing Simon. 
“Let me do it, Soap. Please. I need this.”
He couldn’t argue with you. He didn’t have it in him to hurt you more than you were already hurting. 
“Fine. But I’m not happy about this.”
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You stood in your gear, an empty backpack plastered to your back waiting to be filled with medical supplies. Price had gone over the layout of the wing with you, showing you exactly where you needed to go to get the right supplies on a map of the building. 
You stood before the infirmary doors, the ones that would lead to a long, winding hall that would bring you to the center of the infirmary. Off of that were several rooms and more halls, and a surgical floor. It was a large span of space to cover, but you believed you could do this. 
“Be quick about it, lass. We’ll be right here when you get back,” Soap said to you, his hand resting on your shoulder. 
You took in a breath and walked up to the doors that had been unlocked, a large piece of plywood that had previously been nailed against it, removed so you could go in. Before you reached out to the door handle, you turned around and rushed into Soap’s arms. He held you tightly, your head tucked right under his chin. “Don’t you fuckin’ die on me,” he mumbled into your hair. 
You pulled back and gave him a sad smile. Then you nodded at Price and faced the daunting doors again. Once you stepped through the threshold and the doors shut behind you, you could hear the plywood being put back up, a hammer nailing it in place. When you got back, you were to knock and Soap would be there waiting to let you back in. 
The hall was flickering with a few overhead lights, the generator still powering a few of the rooms in this wing. 
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Ghost had a glazed-over expression when he rolled off his medical bed. The room around him was silent apart from the ticking of a clock in the corner. There was blood pooled all around him and dripping onto the tiled floor as he stood. He had some semblance of who he was, of what happened, but most of his thoughts were hazed over like he was stuck in a daydream. 
He had walked the length of the room, a sudden craving for food hitting the pit of his stomach. Any sound made him snap in that direction, rushing towards it as if on cue. He heard banging coming from one of the med rooms, the door locked and nailed over with whatever scrap of wood they could find. More people like him were trapped behind those doors, their groaning echoing down the hall. 
Ghost limped as he walked, remembering how he had been shot in his leg. He looked down at his crimson-stained pants, almost like he should be feeling pain, but he felt nothing. 
Days had passed and he roamed the halls aimlessly, not even getting bored. His mind had drifted off, somewhere that wasn’t in his body, allowing him to walk around like a zombie, completely void of any logical thought. 
He grumbled as he made his rounds, stuck in a time loop, walking down the flickering hall again and again, passing by bodies that had been left behind. 
He hesitated when he heard something. He turned to look in the direction of the noise, intrigued. It sounded like someone had just walked blindly into a metal medical tray, knocking instruments onto the floor. His movements were fast and nimble as he approached the sound. 
He froze in place when he saw you–though he didn’t know who you were at that moment. You cursed yourself for being loud but didn’t hear anything in retaliation so you figured you were safe. Your hand rested on the knife strapped to your hip anyway.
You were edging towards the main infirmary double doors, your hand touching the metal of the handle. You should go in there and get supplies, but that’s where you had last seen Simon. You didn’t have it in you to see what had become of him, his body rotting alone. 
Instead, you walked down the hall and into a storage closet, oblivious to the shell of Ghost who trailed behind you. 
You left the door to the storage room open to let in a few strips of light so you could see better. You hunched over and began to dig through the supplies that had been thrown all over the floor in panic. 
Ghost rolled his neck as he saw you in the room, your back to him. He had a sudden urge to sink his teeth deep into your skin, to tear you to shreds. In fact, he wanted nothing more; the instinct was overpowering. 
But when he got close, he could hear your voice as you mumbled to yourself, going over the list of the items you needed. You held up a pack of linens, trying to see if they were clean. “These will have to do,” you said softly, shoving them into your backpack. 
A wave of familiarity surfaced inside Ghost, a strange feeling of being alive pumping through his veins. When he got to the doorframe, he could smell you. His senses heightened, the waft of your natural scent sent Ghost into a daze. He remembered—though he wasn’t sure what he was remembering. All he knew was that he recognized that smell. 
His body had felt like it was in hibernation, his motors set on autopilot as he mindlessly walked down the halls. But suddenly, Ghost’s true mind was brought to the forefront. And his body craved you, though not in the way he had just moments earlier. He didn’t want to sink his teeth into your neck, he wanted to feel your warmth against him. 
Ghost moved with such dexterity and silence, it was clear he was no longer human. When you stood, his arms immediately wrapped around you, eliciting a scream from your throat. 
Ghost still wasn’t fully comprehending what was happening; all he knew was that his body wanted you. His hand slid up around your neck, leaving a trail of blood on your clothes. He tried to speak, but he couldn't fathom what he wanted to say. All that came out was a strangled groan. 
You sputtered, trying to catch your breath as your heart raced in your chest. Ghost felt for your pulse beneath his fingertips, relishing in the way your blood pumped through your body. 
You turned your head slightly, spying the man who had you trapped against the many shelves in the closet.
It was Simon.
Terror flooded your system. He didn’t look like himself. His eyes were glossed over, his pupils and iris almost unidentifiable, the entirety of his eyes were white, appearing like he was blind. The blood that had soaked his face had congealed, the rusted color running down his clothes where he was shot in the chest and leg. He looked just how you left him, and it sent a sense of terror through you. 
“S-Simon?” You whispered, unsure if you were caught in a nightmare. 
A groan escaped his cracked lips. You gulped. He had become one of them . 
You were certain he was about to tear you apart, just as you had seen other fallen men do to your teammates. You closed your eyes, tears rushing down your cheeks as you prepared for the worst. His hands felt cold around your neck, like ice. You shivered against him. You accepted your fate—a small part of you actually wanted it. You wanted him to end you. To take you down with him. You didn't want to be alone anymore.
He nuzzled his nose against your neck and you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for him to bite you. But it never came. 
Instead, he just moved his nose against you, smelling your hair and skin. His hands were still locked tightly against you, but they began to travel across your body. You opened your eyes in shock. Ghost’s hands trailed your chest, groping you with one hand, the other sprawling over the front of your thigh and stomach. You gasped in surprise. 
You felt him harden against you, something you had experienced many times before now, and the familiarity of it made your heart pound with mixed emotions. Your mind was too caught up trying to decipher what was happening to truly take the moment in. 
Ghost’s cold hands slid under your black shirt, snaking their way up to your breasts, cupping each one in his hands. Your nipples immediately hardened from the iciness of his touch. He ground himself against your backside, making you close your eyes in a moment of reprieve. You got lost in the past, imagining this was how it used to be. How he had touched you so many times before. 
You breathed his name and he seemed to like that, for he rolled his hips against you harder, his chest rumbling in satisfaction. 
The cold of his hands left you, making you oddly yearn to have them back on your skin. His fingers traced the hem of your pants before aggressively pulling them down. He got them past the curve of your ass and turned your bodies so your hips hit the edge of a shelving unit that acted as a table. You knocked all the supplies off as Ghost pushed you down against it, using your hands to catch yourself. 
Ghost shuffled with his own pants, wasting no time at all to slip himself inside you. You called out in a brief shock of pain. He held himself deep within you, his hands squeezing as he held you, his body bent over slightly, his chest flat against your back. Your own hands reached out to grab the edge of the table to help steady yourself. The searing heat of you against his frozen skin spread through him like wildfire.
Your cries ignited a flame in Ghost’s chest—the feel of your body, the sound of your gasps, the smell of your hair—felt natural, like this was exactly what he was supposed to be doing. That he was made to take you like this. That your body against him was something so ingrained in his system, that he had no choice to to let his limbs move on muscle memory. 
He began to thrust inside you, your hips hitting the table with each snap of his hips. His hand snaked around your neck, the smear of blood now coating your skin. One of your hands came up to wrap around his wrist, resting it there in support. 
You groaned as he rocked into you harder. The pain from his sudden intrusion had subsided, and now you were filled with a haze of rapture. A tear slid down your cheek. You were unable to process what was happening, but what you did know was that you had missed Simon more than anything and that this wasn’t real. This wouldn’t last longer than this moment in time. 
Ghost’s chest rumbled in pleasure as he thrusted into you. Your walls squeezed around him and he let out a loud groan. His arm not clutching your neck wrapped around your midsection, pulling you away from the table so you were flesh against him. He held you tight, almost like he couldn’t get you close enough. That if he had his way, he’d let you make a home beneath his skin. 
His hips snapped vehemently against you, his pace quickening. You moaned, your sounds coming out strangled as his cold hand held your neck. Your walls tightened around him, your climax rapidly approaching. You couldn’t quite believe that you were not only fucking your dead boyfriend, but you were going to come in record time. 
You were absolutely intoxicating to him as your warmth clenched down on him, your heat something recognizable to him, and yet, the intimacy was foreign at the same time. Now that he was devoid of his usual body temperature, the warm feeling of you around him was almost painful. 
When you mewled and cried under him, your walls spasaming, he drew himself to the edge right behind you. Ghost came inside you with a great urge, growling in your ear as he tried to support the two of you. You felt him fill you, the white fluid seeping out around where his cock continued to pump in and out of you. His movements became sloppy, your legs shaking, your hand clutching onto his wrist for dear life. 
You couldn’t hold back the cascade of tears, finally letting them flow as Ghost slowed his pace before stopping altogether. He edged out of you, his arms hesitantly letting you go, and you immediately turned around to face him, burying your face in his chest. You sobbed as he stood there. His arms didn’t reach out and hold you like he once would. He didn’t try to comfort you like he always did so well. 
But still, he just let you huddle against him, taking what you needed from him. He didn’t attack you. He didn’t try to kill you. He wasn’t himself, but he wasn’t fully gone either. You turned to look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. He looked down and you stifled a cry. His white eyes were going to be permanently burned into your mind, haunting you for eternity. His face was sullen and blanched, blood smearing all across him; fresh blood dripping slightly from his mouth.
You tentatively reached a hand up and rested it on his frozen cheek. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled. Ghost made no indication he could even hear you. 
You took in a deep breath, willing yourself to do this, and stepped back. You adjusted yourself before slowly reaching down for your bag. Ghost stood and watched you, the only thing moving was the tilt of his head as he traced your movements. 
You shuffled to the door, anticipating him to reach out and end this daydream, ripping you apart. But he just watched you go, his mind riddled with foggy thoughts. He wanted to tear into you, but another part of him prevented him from doing so. He wanted to grab you and hold you against him for some reason. He liked the warmth your body provided. But another part of him felt nothing at all. 
He watched you leave in a stupor, his mind just barely grasping onto the image and memory of you. It’s true, he wasn’t completely gone, but he was fading fast. 
You cried violently as you stumbled back to the exit. When you banged on the doors, you heard the plywood being ripped off and the doors swinging open. Soap pulled you back into the base and held you at arm's length. “What happened?” he asked desperately. You were sobbing and covered in blood.
Should you tell him? Would Soap let you return to Simon knowing he wasn’t gone? Or would they make you stay here, letting Simon slip away forever? 
You suddenly regretted leaving him. You should have stayed with Simon, even if he was a shell of who he used to be. You should have waited the time out together until he fully lost himself, and you would let him take you down with him. 
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trashmouth-richie · 1 month
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eddie x reader
a follow up to this prompt by @rebelfell
2.6k
tw: angst, smut, minors fuck off pls teasing? is that a trigger idk.
“we need to talk.” the conversation we’ve been waiting for after you catch your best friend getting head finally unfolds
“We need to talk.”
Your blood ran cold, ice in your veins it was practically prickling your skin. The heat on your cheeks bloomed and your gut quaked at the sight of him, covered. 
Play dumb! It’ll work! 
“I , m-mean, now?— like right now? You have cum- company! a guest— we can talk later, yeah?” 
The stuttering, calmly hands and the sweat gathered under your arms— you were a one woman walking circus, missing the clown nose.  
“Why are you being so weird?” He leans into your doorframe, tattooed arms cross over his broad and glistening chest. 
The flush still in his cheeks almost brought you to your knees, but it was the single flick of his tongue on his lips that had you melting and wishing he had licked your lips instead. Fuck.
“… besides, you already interrupted my guest, so she left—”
Your ears perk up at the mention of said whore leaving your apartment, and your eyelashes bat open, “she left? Why?” 
Eddie huffs and puts his tongue in his cheek like he can’t believe you’re being so stupid. 
“Cut the shit, okay? Will you just be an adult for a second?” 
The smile on your lips falls and you take a step back towards your bed setting your keys down on the nightstand. The silence is anything but quiet. The energy was chaotic and shooting like daggers much like Eddie’s eyes into yours.
“Well?” he asks dramatically, raising his eyebrows to try to get you to speak.  
Play dumb— it’s working! 
“Well what?” you muse innocently. 
“What the fuck was that?” Eddie spits, any softness he brought into this situation had fizzled—dead at the door. 
“I—”
“Forget how to knock?” 
“No—”
“Suuuure, you just thought you’d what? Barge in, ignoring our code?” 
“I didn’t—-there was no hot water! You forgot to pay the water bill!”
“That’s not how water bills work.”
You stand stunned— mouth open to argue but nothing will even come out.
“It’s the water heater for this shitheap building that’s out— if you don’t believe that I paid the bill—call the water company yourself.” 
“…oh.” your voice is small, quiet almost unheard. 
“Wow, really great apology.” 
“Oh relax! Just call her back and explain it was a mistake, who cares? She shouldn’t be so uptight.” 
Eddie is fuming, blood rushing to his head as he tries not to yell out right. But fuck you were being so difficult.
“Ya know… I didn’t say shit when you had Harrington tied to your bed posts and you couldn’t undo the knots— did I? Nope—not a fucking word, I just cut him loose and acted like nothing ever happened!”
You wince, who knew knots were that hard to unlace?
“That was different!” 
“Or the multiple times I caught the fuckin’ Chief slipping out of your room at 5 AM? I even bummed him a cigarette for his morning coffee!” 
Your jaw hung to the floor, you didn’t know Eddie had any idea that you’d been sleeping with Hopper. 
“So? What—we’re just airing out dirty laundry now?” you could be venomous too, your rattle sounding off ready to strike. 
“How many months did you try gettin’ into Mary’s pants before you dumped her because she’s married to Jesus Christ her Lord & Savior? Her name is Mary for fucks sake! Not hard!”
His face pulls to anger, “don’t be a bitch!” 
“And where’s Gareth? Never see him around anymore, maybe it’s because you ran over his d—.” 
“That was an accident! I honked and he never moved!” 
“He was deaf Eddie!” you yell back into his face, “or! How about the time I had to pick you up from the Hideout because you got so drunk you pissed your pants?” 
“That was YOU!” 
The two of you were standing nose to nose, shouting accusing each other of shit that didn’t even matter. Eddie had your back and you’d have his until the end. Cradle to the grave. 
But this was different, you weren’t fighting like siblings or friends, you were both screaming as if you were in pain. 
He’s the first to move, shaking his head and turning towards the door. when he speaks his voice is low, angry.
“When my door is shut don’t open it—turn your ass around and fuck off, got it?” 
His words split your skin, vining through your body like sharp thorns. The hot spill of tears were welling in your eyes. 
“Sorry to bother you, asshole— won’t happen again.”
He’s on the opposite side when you slam your door in his face. The rain brewed and stewed and finally was ready to fall from the clouds in your eyes. 
Why were you acting like this? 
Grabbing your keys you set to leave again, needing an escape so he couldn’t hear your wailing cries. But again— when you opened the door, he was still standing there, only this time he looked pissed. 
“Move.”
He brushes you off as if he didn’t even hear you, “enough.”
“Eddie, get out of the way!” 
“Do you know how many nights I listened to you fake it for this fuckheads?” How long 
I’ve waited for you to admit it?” 
He shuts your door behind him as he pushes his way inside. 
“Admit what?”
“C’mon, baby— we haven’t been friends for a long time, not really.” 
You’re confused and on the verge of tears, “what?!”
Eddie presses forward, head tilted down at you.
 “Those douchebags you bring here can’t handle you the way I know you need…coming home to see their boots by the front door makes me absolutely despise you.”
“Who gives a shit? I trip over skanky high heels sometimes too.”
You were missing the point he was trying to make, way over your head. 
“Never satisfied when they leave…that little vibrator in the top drawer is not as quiet as you think it is.”
You were throbbing, aching… how did he know? 
He inches forward, and you double back towards the door.
“I—”
“Pretty little moans on your lips just minutes after they leave…‘m not stupid sweetheart, I know you do it on purpose— parading around the apartment in your little shorts, never wearing a bra… you’re a tease.” 
He wasn’t right. He couldn’t be! Right?
“I hate you, Eddie.” 
He stalks forward like a predator eyeing its prey, a stupid smirk on his face. 
“No— No I don’t think you do. I think you’re so fucking wound up about me, jealous... It’s alright, I get it. I bury myself in bitches so you’ll get out of my head.”
He takes a ragged breath, his eyes pitch dark, and your back hits the door, he closes in around you, his arms on either side of your head. 
“I fucking hate you, princess. I hate that it doesn’t work.. you’ve made me jealous for too fucking long.”
Your body was screaming, angel and devil on your shoulder dancing and holding hands rooting you on. 
“H-how long?”
His hand falls to your chin, pulling down your bottom lip.
“Senior year. Hellfire. You laughed at one of Jeff’s stupid fucking jokes and my blood ran cold. I wanted you to look at me like you looked at him. That was just the first time I realized I wanted you.”
You shudder, fingers running along his chest, playing with the chain on his neck, “why not say anything?”
“Didn’t wanna ruin this.” 
His lips nearly touch yours, he’s leaning in so close. And you don’t pull away. 
“I think it’s pretty clear that our friendship is over, Eddie. I fucking hate you.” 
“I hate you, too sweetheart.” 
The tension is thick, spinning with bated breath and sexual desire. 
“So, we hate each other?”
“Yep.” Eddie muses, angling your chin so he can see your neck. 
“…and we aren’t friends?” 
He nods silently, pressing his nose to your cheek, “seems to be that way.” 
“You’ve ruined everything.”
“Good,” he all but whispers into your ear. 
“..a perfectly good pair of underwear.” 
His breath hitches in his throat, and he licks his lips. “Can’t have that.” 
“No, not at all,” you tease, thumbing at your waistband and letting your shorts hit the floor.
He steps back to examine you with wide eyes, letting them narrow as he bites his lip, looking you dead in the eyes. 
“I’m gonna fuck you exactly how you need to be fucked.” 
Pulling him back into you by his chain necklace you ask centimeters from his lips, tasting the heat from his mouth, “what are you waiting for?” 
He takes a deep breath, hovering his mouth over yours, “nothing, not anymore.”
His tongue hits you first, electric like an eel on your lips, his breath hot as fire. You moan out when his hands grip your ass, pulling you into him with such force you could have toppled over. 
Eddie is loud too. Groaning with each swipe of your tongue against his. 
“Fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long, baby.” 
His dick is pressed into your middle, hard and kicking up as your hands reach into his hair, pulling you closer to him as if he were a rope and you were climbing a mountain. 
He pulls you away from the door to get a quick slap to your ass. Rough and hard and you’re mewling, his rings stinging your skin. 
Your lips close to his ear you whisper “Eddie… please.”
He pulls away after leaving a mark on your neck. 
“You don’t have to beg, I’ll give you whatever you need, however many times you want it, honey.”
His fingers dip into your waistband around your hips as he slides your panties down to your thighs.  “Let me see that cunt, show me what I did to you.” 
You step out of your panties and he lowers himself to the floor on bent knees. “Jesus Christ, look how pretty she is, ‘m gonna eat this pussy till you cum all over my face.” 
You nod dumbly, body on fire from his words, the lust of having his hands touch you in places he never had, places you dreamt he would, has your mind spinning. 
His bangs tickle your inner thighs, breath fanning on your clit, thumbs spreading you open. He sucks in a breath, whistling low.
A single flick of his tongue— that’s all it takes for your eyes to roll, for your back to bend in an arch like you were being exorcized of hell’s worst demons. Your fingernails scratching into the door trying to anchor yourself from grinding on his face until his nose broke. 
He spits, watching it drip down to your cunt, “don’t ask me to stop.” 
Diving in, his tongue is everywhere. Lapping you up, sucking your clit into his mouth. Swirling around like you would while eating an ice cream cone. Your chest heaves and your thighs tremble as he hooks one over his shoulder pressing into him and he gently pushes it back into place, his eyes never leaving your body. 
When it happens again, he shoves it down with force, nipping at one of your thighs, his lips shiny and wet he groans, “keep ‘em put.” 
The tip of his middle finger pushes into you, and you squeak out a gasp, leaning forward off the door to take a look at him, and he nearly laughs, “jesus, you’re tight sweetheart, gonna need to work you up a bit.” 
He smiles before attaching his mouth to your thigh, sucking a bruise as he fucks you with his fingers, adding a second that’s easier than the first. Your body rolls with his motions, pushing back against him and you know your orgasm is about to snap.
His tongue replaces his fingers and the heat in your stomach releases, untying the white knot and spilling over his lips as you scream out his name. 
“Thatta girl, fuck look at you, Christ.” 
Your eyes open, a strange drunk feeling taking over, as if you were high on a cloud and falling gracefully back to the earth. Opening to see the blackened eyes of the guy you’ve called your best friend for years, and if you would have known his tongue could do that, maybe you would have ruined this friendship a lot sooner.
“Fuck off Munson,” you mutter, out of breath as your foot gently sets on the ground.
“What?” he laughs.
“Just keeping the fact that you eat pussy better than the devil all to yourself huh? Selfish.”
His face splits into a grin laced with evil as he stands, licking his lips, “that’s not all I can do.” 
He’s on you in a flash, hoising you up into his arms, and using the other to hastily shove his boxers down. “Can’t go back after this.” 
“Oh this is the tipping point? Fucking is gonna ruin it not you just making going down on me?” 
He rolls his eyes as he lines himself up with you, “what happened to that sweet girl I used to chase in the trailer park, huh?” 
You reach around your legs and grab his thick cock and lightly sink down onto it the head barely pushing past your puffy lips, “fuck…met a boy who grew up and started selling weed out of his van, kind of an asshole, really big dick though.”
He thrusts up into you so hard you nearly see black, vision spotty from pleasure alone, you whine his name and he practically comes undone.
“Don’t.. shit… don’t do that, I won’t last. Those noises haunt me… been wanting to hear them.”
He holds you tight and fucks you slowly, dragging his cock at a ridiculously slow speed. Groaning when you suck him in deep, biting his neck. 
“There it is, the noise that started this whole mess.” 
He grins into you stupidly, “I’m glad you’re perverted plan worked, you little hussy.” 
His hips move faster and your both whining, accompanied by the slapping of skin on skin. “Water heaters’ been out since last week, ‘m not stupid babe, you’re the one who called and asked.” 
“Whoops— oh my goddd,” you squeal before you're panting like a dog and clawing his arms with your nails, he was splitting you wide open and you were near to tears. 
The tears finally fall when Eddie bottoms out in your cunt, filling you up, grunting your name as he rests his forehead to your shoulder— completely spent. 
His lips kiss your collar bone and you twirl a curl away from his face exhausted around his softening length. 
“Princess,” he breathes, kissing life back into himself with the sweat from your skin, “if you wanted to fuck, you should have told me sooner, could have saved us a week of cold showers, y’know?” 
You kissed his lips, letting him set you down on the bed so you could both lay back in a lazy post sex high, surrounded by your blankets. 
“Well maybe you should have fixed it sooner, you are the maintenance manager of the building.”  
Eddie grins and pins you onto the mattress, his hair falling into your face, his thumb sweeping over your cheeks to catch a rogue eyelash, “come with me to fix it?” 
“Hmm..” fingers moving his hair behind his ear, “you gonna wear that slutty stained white tank top?” 
“Slutty? Why, gonna seduce me in the boiler room?” his lips move down your neck and you whimper. 
“Maybe…” you tease tickling his underarm, “so if I wouldn’t have barged into your room… what else would you have done?” 
Eddie only smiles, thinking of his plan to “break” the air conditioner and hide your hoodies and blankets so you’d have to come to him for warmth. 
“Let’s just say, you would have ended up as my girl one way or another.” 
steve tied up in readers room
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ellemj · 5 months
Text
Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 2
Bucky Barnes x Reader
**If you haven't read Pt. 1 yet, READ IT FIRST.**
Summary: You fight the effects of the chemical compound for as long as you can, until Bucky makes you an offer that your body can't seem to refuse. But, you each have a rule that the other has to follow.
Warnings: this one is a huge fucking tease, I'm so sorry (I won't be sorry when I release part 3 tonight), masturbation, talk of unprotected sex, profanity, use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires more warnings.
Word Count: 4k (I just couldn't stop the build up)
Author's Note: I cannot believe the overwhelming response on part one of this, I was just in a silly goofy mood and decided to finally use my Tumblr for something other than reading y'alls AMAZING fics every night before bed. I didn't expect anyone to really even see it. My heart is racing as I get ready to post this rn lmao. PLEASEEE tell me what your fav part of this one is, I have to know. Part 3 will be out tonight, I can't make you guys wait too much.
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            Bucky’s resolve has been steadily crumbling for the past hour, and truthfully, he’s barely placing any blame on the chemical compound that’s interacting with the serum coursing through his veins. He’s placing the blame on you and the needy, whimpering noises that you’ve been making for the last forty-five minutes. After the video conference with Bruce and Tony ended, you were quick to lock yourself in one of the bedrooms of the safe house. You didn’t even say another word to Bucky, you just stood up from the couch with one hand clutched over your stomach, and hurried off down the hall. He wanted to say something to you, but what the hell was he supposed to say? I’m sorry that we’re in this situation? That wouldn’t help a damn thing. You’re in it and there’s nothing either one of you can do except pray that you’ll have enough self-control to make it through the night with your doors still locked.
            Bucky sat on the couch for a few minutes after you left, replaying Tony’s last warning to you in his head. You won’t feel relief until your body thinks it has a chance of reproducing, until semen is introduced into your system. It made him feel like shit. He can find relief on his own, he can take care of himself tonight, but you? You’ll suffer for a minimum of eight hours, possibly nearing death, alone behind a locked door. It’s not that he thinks you can’t handle yourself. He’s perfectly aware of how capable you are at handling practically anything. He’s been your partner in the field for two months now and he’s never once had a doubt about your skills, your ability to tolerate pain, or even the split-second decisions you have to make sometimes during missions. You might give each other shit the majority of the time that you’re working together, but when it comes down to it, you trust each other with no reservations. So, why then, does he find himself so fucking worried about you?
            He’s been locked in the bedroom across the hall from yours for the past hour now. He thought maybe things wouldn’t be so bad when he heard you tucking yourself away into bed, when he heard you go still and silent for a few minutes. It was smart of you, trying to sleep as much as you could before the chemical fully set in and began to wreak havoc within your body. But after only fifteen minutes, he heard the faintest sound carrying across the hall. He wasn’t sure what it was at first, thinking maybe you’d gotten up to use the bathroom and it was the creak of a floorboard or maybe a door hinge. It was wishful thinking. The second time he heard it, he was sure. You were whimpering in your sleep. For a few moments, he was able to deceive himself into thinking it was whimpers of pain, maybe from your stomach aching in your sleep. When you grew louder, the sounds of your soft, breathy moans mixing with the sound of the sheets rustling as you tossed and turned restlessly, that’s when his resolve began to break apart piece by piece. He sits on the side of his bed in total darkness. His shirt and tactical pants are strewn across the floor where he previously discarded them when the heat emanating from his body became too much to bear. His hands grip the edge of the mattress with enough force to break through the layers of fabric there, but he fears that if he lets go, the next thing his hands will grip will be either his cock or the two door knobs separating you both. Focusing on your suffering is keeping him from feeling his own pain, but the noises you’re making are making it significantly harder for him to ignore the needs that are bubbling to the surface within him. Shit. How the fuck did he end up in this situation with you?
            You awake suddenly, drenched in sweat, your sweats especially making you feel like damp towels are wrapped around your legs. You waste no time throwing the covers back and ripping your sweats off, tossing them onto the floor and moving your hair to lay it across your pillow so it’s not sticking to your neck. Fuck HYDRA. Fuck Zemo for killing Dr. Nagel. Obviously, you wouldn’t have wanted him running around recreating the super soldier serum either, but if he was still alive maybe you wouldn’t be lying here in this state. You take a deep breath in, counting to three in your head as you breathe it back out. Focusing in on your symptoms, you try to make a mental list. You think that maybe if you can remind yourself of the science behind the symptoms, you won’t become an irrationally horny mess, you can just reason your way out of the most intense arousal you’ve ever felt in your life. Sweating, tachycardia, abdominal cramping, bone pain…you stupidly let your right hand slide down between your legs. Your fingertips briefly grace the exterior fabric of your black boyshort panties, feeling how wet they are adds another symptom to the mental list, not that you needed to feel it to know. Arousal.
            You lean over to the bedside table and feel around blindly for your phone. The screen illuminates and you see that it’s only 10 pm. You’ve only been sleeping for an hour. The chemical compound isn’t even at its peak activity level yet and you’re already beginning to feel a type of desperation that you haven’t felt before. You need relief. Tony’s words swirl around in your mind, making you feel lightheaded and making you want to hunt him down and make him take the words back by force, like that would change the reality of the situation you’re currently in. You won’t feel relief until your body thinks it has a chance of reproducing, until semen is introduced into your system.
            You could try finding relief on your own. Tony isn’t lord over all things scientific. When has he ever dealt with a compound like this before? Never. He doesn’t know shit. You’re trying so hard to convince yourself that he could be wrong. Sitting up in bed, you reach over and flip on the lamp that sits on the bedside table, casting a pale glow across the room. You will yourself to think clearly, to make a plan and implement it. You can fight this. You need something that’ll take down your body temperature, slow your heart rate, and ease some of the pain you’re feeling everywhere. A cold shower.
            Bucky listens intently as you open your door and your feet patter softly down the hall. He listens as you shut and lock the bathroom door behind you and then as you turn on the shower. He mentally curses his heightened sense of hearing when he hears the tussle of your clothes hitting the floor. He’s been ignoring his hardening cock as it grows beneath the black fabric of his boxers. He’s been ignoring it because he feared if he tried to relieve himself, you’d likely hear him across the hall and he’d never let himself live it down. He can’t be the first one to break. But maybe, with you being in the shower, you wouldn’t be able to hear anything coming from his room. Why the hell are you even in the shower? He imagines the pain you’re in would make it hard for you to stand in there for very long, and it’s not like a shower is going to give you much relief at all. He can’t wonder for more than a quick moment, before the chemical begins to really cloud his mind, his clear thoughts becoming hazy behind thoughts of chasing relief. Fuck it. You won’t hear a damn thing.
            Bucky sighs deeply as his lays back on the bed, still in darkness, pushing his boxers down a few inches and freeing his hard length. His flesh hand quickly wraps around it, giving it a slow stroke from base to tip, pre-cum quickly coating his fingers.
            “Oh, fuck.” He groans lowly. It’s never felt like this before. It’s as if every nerve in his body has shifted, has traveled down to embed in his cock. His head falls back into his pillow, his eyes squeezing shut at the sensation of his shaft finally being handled. He works his fist up and down, picking up speed and reveling in the feeling of temporary relief. As he strokes his cock, he feels the pain throughout his body slowly dissipating, easing up but not fully disappearing. Before he can stop himself, he’s picturing exactly what you’d look like right now. Your perfectly toned body standing under a stream of water, your hands running down your smooth skin, your eyes closed as you let the shower wash away your discomfort. He feels guilty. Truly, he does. But it's as if he has no control over his thoughts when his hand is on his cock and his veins are corrupted with a potent chemical from hell. Especially not when you’re naked a mere ten feet down the hall. As Bucky nears his climax, his balls tightening and his cock twitching in his hand, a loud crash resounds throughout the house and he’s brought back to reality. He’s on his feet, his boner tucked reluctantly away in his boxers, and his bedroom door flying open in less than two seconds, fearing the worst. He thinks you must’ve passed out from the effects of the chemical, fallen in the shower, maybe split your head open. When he reaches for the bathroom door knob and finds it locked, he’s giving no second thought to breaking the door down. Hell, he decided he was going to break it down before he ever left his room. He takes one step back, ready to use his leg to kick through it, when he hears the shower water cut off and the curtain pull back.
            “Y/n?” His voice is laced with concern and it takes you by surprise. You’d only been standing in the ice-cold shower for two minutes when you realized it wasn’t going to do shit for you. You aren’t usually one to lose your temper, but feeling so hopeless and helpless, your only plan failing to provide you with any relief, you ended up slamming your fist into the tiled shower wall out of pure frustration. You didn’t do it hard enough to really hurt yourself, but apparently hard enough to alarm Bucky.
            “You’re supposed to be locked in your room.” You call out, your voice coming out a little timid and quieter than you intended. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you step out of the shower and examine yourself in front of the bathroom mirror. Your cheeks are still flushed, your pupils are dilated so much that you’re surprised the lights aren’t hurting your eyes yet, and your rapid pulse is nearly visible in your neck. You let your hair down from the bun you threw it up into for the shower and then pull on the same shirt and damp panties you had on moments earlier.
            “I thought you fell.” Bucky says quietly, barely above a whisper. You can tell he’s standing close to the door. You’ve never heard him speak so softly. You freeze, your hands clutching the edge of the bathroom sink as your body responds to his voice, against your rational mind’s will. You feel a familiar heat gathering between your legs and you squeeze your thighs together. He needs to go back to his room. Now.
            “Bucky, go back to bed.” Your voice is firm, without a single hint of hesitation. Bucky knows that he should heed the warning. He knows he should turn around right now and go back and lock his door. Instead, he stands there in the hallway with his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers and a conflicted expression on his face. You said earlier that your only option was to lock yourselves in your respective rooms and ride it out until morning. Was that really the only option though? He could easily think of a few more options, though admittedly, he might not be thinking with his brain anymore.
            “You have to go back to your room before I come out.” You’re starting to sound like you’re pleading with him. As much as you want to act strong and like you have all of the self-control in the world right now, you’re worried that if you step out into the hall and see him, you won’t be able to stop yourself from reaching out for him. You want to feel his skin beneath your hands as you run your palms from his shoulders, down his chest, straight to the waistband of whatever the hell he’s wearing right now. You want to have him completely bare in front of you, with nothing stopping you from dragging him straight to your bed to find the relief that you both so desperately crave right now. A sharp pang in your lower stomach causes you to let out a soft groan, and the sudden inhale you hear from Bucky through the door doesn’t go unnoticed.
            “Not until I see that you’re okay.” Bucky says, still worried that you fell in the shower or hurt yourself somehow. Not wanting to waste any more time letting the chemical stew in your reproductive system, you flip the bathroom light off so you’re thrown into darkness, before unlocking the bathroom door and pulling it open slowly. You can just barely make out his form in the dark hallway, the curve of his broad shoulders, the glint of the black and gold vibranium making up his left arm, and fuck…the ripples down his abdomen. You’ve always thought he was frustratingly attractive, but now? Just looking at him has you insatiable. You realize quickly that he’s not wearing anything except a pair of black boxers and his dog tags. He’s really not making this easy on you. Your eyes flutter closed and you sigh, telling yourself to suck it up and walk past him. Just walk past him. But now you what he looks like with nearly no clothes on, and he’s so close to you. So. Damn. Close. A foot away from you, to be exact.
            “I’m fine, just go back to bed.” You whisper. You don’t trust yourself to speak any louder, worried that raising your voice might awake something much more primal within yourself.
            “Look at me.” He says, matching your whisper volume. Shit. Shit, shit. Shit. No.
            “Don’t—” You’re cut off by the feel of his cool vibranium fingers wrapping around your right hand, lifting it so he can see it better. You suck in a harsh breath at the contact. It shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does, it’s not even what you need. You need skin. You need him against you. But something about the cool metal contrasting against the warmth of your heated hand feels electrifying.
            “Did you punch the wall?” He questions, examining your reddened knuckles with narrowed eyes. Your eyes remain closed as you nod your head, and he takes the moment to scan his eyes down your body. Your t-shirt skims along the tops of your thighs and he knows if you turned around, it wouldn’t even fully cover the curve of your ass. Fuck, he wants you to turn around. He drops your hand as quickly as he first grabbed it, letting it fall back to your side as he begins running his flesh hand through his disheveled hair.
            “On a scale of one to ten, how bad is it?” Bucky has to know. He knows how high your pain tolerance is, he knows how good you are at putting on a brave face in the worst situations. He has to know how much you’re really suffering right now before he makes an offer that he can’t take back.
            “Four.” You fib, pressing your lips together and daring to open your eyes and look back at him. Your eyes have adjusted to the dark a little more and you can see the sweat glistening across his chest, his quick breaths drawing your attention straight to his pecs.
            “Don’t lie to me.” His gaze hardens. He hates that you’d try to lie to him. Do you really not trust him enough to just be open with him? Jesus, he’s standing in front of you in his fucking boxers with a hard-on that you haven’t even noticed yet and somehow you feel the need to keep things from him, like he isn’t just as vulnerable as you are right now.
            “Seven.” You admit truthfully. The pain in your stomach has intensified, and all you want to do is curl into a ball right there on the floor. You feel like you’ve been doused in gasoline and lit on fire, you feel like someone attempted to extinguish that fire with a gallon of hot sauce, and then ran you over with a semi-truck. You reach out for the door frame with your right hand, using it for balance as your legs begin to feel weaker.
            “Y/n-” Bucky starts, ready to make you an offer, but you don’t let him continue. He knows it’s crossing a line. He’s fully aware that if he offers and you say no, things could just get weird between the two of you. He’s even more aware that if he offers and you say yes, it could effectively end your working relationship. But he can’t stand to see you like this. You might give each other shit more often than you’re civil with each other, but something about you being in pain has always sat wrong with him. He worries more about you in the field than he worries about himself.
            “Don’t say my name, just…” You cut him off, but your voice trails off as your eyes wander down to the front of his boxers, finally noticing the way he’s straining against the fabric, his tip resting just barely under the waistband. “If you keep standing here, if you keep saying things to me, I’m not going to be able to go back to my room. I need you to walk away before I lose the power to let you.” Your warning should be clear as day now. He needs to leave you alone.
            “No.” His refusal hits a nerve, angering you more than you would’ve thought possible. You feel a rush of adrenaline surge through you as you lose control of your actions. You place your hands against his chest, shoving him back, hard. He barely moves, which just further enrages you. “Y/n, we can fix this. I can fix this for you.” His offer is out in the open now. He holds his breath as you freeze in front of him, your hands falling away from his chest and your eyes squeezing shut in contemplation.
            “Do you even realize what you’re offering?” Your question hangs in the air between the two of you, and the tension in the hallway makes it feel as though lightning is about to strike the tiny cobblestone house that you stand in. You wish lightning would strike. When you open your eyes this time, the look in Bucky’s eye has changed. There’s something in place of his usual hard gaze, something that nearly draws you in.
            “Yes.” He’s offering to fuck you. He’s offering to give you the relief that you so badly need, the relief that can only be found when he finishes inside you. You’re hallucinating. That’s what this is. Because there is no fucking way that he’s standing in front of you right now, the six-foot tall super soldier who you can barely get along with outside of mandatory missions, offering to fuck you raw. “I know what I’m offering.” You only take a moment to weigh your options. Go back to your room, lock the door, and suffer for the next 7-10 hours or have sex with him and hope that it doesn’t ruin your entire life. Why would it ruin your life? Because he’s the only partner that you’ve trusted enough to work with since Nat passed, and there’s no way that things can just be fine and normal after you’ve seen each other naked. Things would get awkward, it’d be hard to look at each other, hard to see each other as professionals anymore. And your work, your job, is your life. Outside of this you have nothing. No family, not a single friend that isn't connected to this damn line of work, not a damn thing to turn to when this inevitably goes to shit.
            “Stop overthinking it.” Bucky’s voice breaks you out of your whirlwind of thoughts. Against your better judgement, you make eye contact with him and the way he’s looking at you gives you butterflies. Butterflies? Who the fuck are you right now? “Close your eyes.” His voice is low, making the butterflies in your stomach explode and spread outward until it feels like your skin is tingling. You don’t know why you do as he says, but your eyes close and you stand there with bated breath as the floorboards creak. He’s stepping closer to you, stopping when you feel his breath fanning across your face. He trails his flesh fingertips from the back of your left hand and up your arm slowly, drawing goosebumps to the surface of your overheated skin but leaving some kind of calmness behind. You relish the way your left arm becomes the only part of your body that isn’t in pain, the only part that he’s touching.
            “Okay…” Your voice is raspy as you cave to his touch. “But I have a rule.” He pulls his hand away and you wince as the pain quickly returns to the bones deep within your arm. He raises an eyebrow at you as he waits for you to continue. “You can’t kiss my lips.”
            Bucky hesitates for a second, caught off guard by your insane rule. No kissing? During sex? Do you hate him that much? Fuck, he shouldn’t have offered to do this in the first place. It’s obvious that you really don’t want this, and he won’t be able to get off knowing that.
            “Who’s overthinking now?” You laugh out, brushing past him and heading straight for your bedroom door. You took his hesitation as a rejection of your rule, and if he rejects your rule then you’re not doing this. If he kisses you, you’re scared you’re going to feel something. You can have sex and find absolutely zero meaning in it, that’s not that hard. It’s just a physical act. But kissing? Kissing makes it too intimate, too much of a real connection. You won’t give that away so easily. Just as you’re nearing the door, you feel Bucky’s hand wrap tightly around your wrist and pull you back, spinning you around so you’re facing him. In less than a second, he’s walking you backwards until your ass hits the wall and your hand is pinned above your head, with his body pressed firmly against yours. His nose brushes over the tip of yours and you shudder at the feeling of his skin, his body giving off so much heat that you’re regretting having put your shirt back on earlier.
            “Fine, I won’t kiss you.” He rasps. His vibranium hand is gripping your hip, holding you solidly against the wall as he moves to run his lips along your jawline. He doesn’t kiss your skin, he simply lets his lips ghost over it, making you tilt your head to the side in anticipation. “I have one rule of my own.”
            “What’s that?” Your voice sounds a lot more confident than you expected it to, like you’re not fighting to hold yourself together inside. He nips at your earlobe softly and you feel the tip of his tongue against it so lightly that you’re not sure if you imagined it or not.
            “You’re going to wear these while I fuck you.” He guides your right hand up over the perfect ridges of his abs, across his chest, and straight to the dog tags that hang around his neck.
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 7 months
Text
Practice On Me — Part Seven — Azriel x Reader
Note: I hope you enjoy this part because I’m not overly happy with how it’s written, I don’t know why 😭probably just me being a DUMBASS. Also, it’s still not letting me tag some of you 😩anyone know why?
Summary: The Bat Boys are worried about reader. Cassian’s getting a little suspicious of Kaeda. Azriel is really, really missing his friend.
Word count: 7k.
Warnings: Some injury detail.
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“He cannot do this. Surely, he cannot fucking do this.”
Azriel slams his fist on the table so hard that ale sloshes over the lip of a mug. The atmosphere in the mead hall is unusually calm tonight. There’s more laughter than arguing, and some dickhead with a lute is even providing the attendants with music. But at the centre table, a cloud of doom darkens the mood.
Everyone has wisely given Rhys, Cassian and Azriel a wide berth.
Tensions are high. Something’s got to give.
“His role in this camp is to oversee our training.” Az balls his fists. “Not to get involved with how we spend our time outside of it.” He eyes Cass and Rhys opposite him. “Right?”
“Technically, yes.” Rhys confirms. “But as the overseer of said training, he also has the authority to remove any distractions as he sees fit.”
“Distractions? She’s our friend, not a fucking toy—”
“I’m just putting it to you straight, Az. It’s the typical Illyrian attitude rearing its ugly head. All four of us made the decision to go to Fenlaros, and yet it’s the female who shoulders the blame.”
“It’s fucking ridiculous.” Cassian finally speaks up.
He hasn’t said much. Too busy thinking about last night.
Nobody knows a thing about that wild, impulsive fuck except him and Y/N. He plans to keep it that way. Not out of any sense of regret, but…he doesn’t know. His brain is ticking over.
He can’t help wondering something that’s never occurred to him before.
Is Y/N branded a certain way by Illyrian ideologies because the closest people to her are males? Has she unfairly gained a reputation — one that would be made worse if what she and Cassian had done became common knowledge?
He doesn’t want to be the reason she gets more shit thrown her way. He’s starting to think he should think harder before he acts. Maybe last night was a mistake. He can’t even see Y/N to talk it through with her.
“So what do we do?” Az is asking as Cass zones back in. “There’s got to be something. Do we take the matter to your father?”
Rhys cocks an eyebrow. “Be real for a second, Az. My father would laugh us out of Velaris. He doesn’t concern himself with trivial camp matters.”
“Y/N having to choose between an abusive household or perishing in the snow is not a trivial matter.”
“To him, it is. He’d tell Devlon to lead and do what he believes is right. Which, he already has, even if we don’t agree with it.”
“Well that’s bullshit. We can’t just lie down and do nothing—”
“I’m not saying that, Az—”
“What about your mother? She adores Y/N. Surely she could appeal to your father—”
“No. She’s pregnant. She stays out of this.”
“Then what do you suggest, Rhysand?”
“How about you start by explaining to Cass and I what’s gotten into you recently?”
Finally, Az has nothing to say. He goes silent. Still.
He stares back at his two friends like he can’t imagine why they would wonder such a thing.
And then he purses his lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Cassian scoffs. “Please. Even I think you starting fights left and right has been extreme.”
“Fuck you. You’re totally exaggerating.”
Rhysand raises an eyebrow. “If you say so.”
“I do.”
“We’re just worried that your behaviour has changed since Kaeda came into the picture—”
“You know what I’m worried about?” Az snaps. “Our friend who is literally homeless as of this morning. That’s a little more important, don’t you think?”
Yes…and no. It’s not that Cassian and Rhys don’t agree. It’s just that…that all roads lead back to Kaeda. And that’s becoming a problem.
“We’re not just going to leave Y/N to deal with this alone, Az.” Rhys tells him. “We just need to be careful about how we deal with it. Devlon isn’t messing around. I don’t want us to cause her more trouble.”
As folds his arms. “So what do you suggest?”
“I’ll talk to Y/N’s friend — Vegha. I’m sure she can open her home to Y/N while we figure things out. Just don’t do anything impulsive or stupid.”
That seems to appease Az a little. He sits back in his chair — allows himself to be a bit more open.
Until Cass totally fucking ruins it and says, “And don’t go starting any more fights just to impress Kaeda.”
Az says again, “Fuck you.”
Cass returns a withering look. “Fuck you right back.”
“Productive.” Rhys comments, shaking his head. He pushes to his feet, and both his friends look round.
“Where are you going?” Az asks.
“To speak with Vegha.” Rhys tells him. “And don’t follow me. You two idiots will only make things worse.”
He has no idea how right he is.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
It starts with the fire going out. Always.
The door swings open hard enough to hit the wall, and freezing air envelops the place. Your father tracks snow into the house, and he smells so strongly of booze that it permeates the room and spreads like a sickness.
You are five years old. You like to draw things in the soot that coats the fireplace. You don’t like green apples, but red ones aren’t so bad. The house always feels untidy since mama stole away in the dead of night a year ago. You try to keep on top of the cleaning, but the damp and the cold makes your hands sore, your bones ache.
Every night, you sit with your hands in your lap and wait for your father to return home. If he’s coming back from the forge, he’s tired and in a bad mood. If he’s coming back from the mead hall or a tavern, he’s drunk and in a really bad mood.
Tonight is the latter. But not only is he drunk and in a bad mood — he’s also brought company.
Four other males. They’re all huge — too huge to fit into the house, you think. If they’ve come for food, there isn’t any. If they’ve come for comfort, there isn’t any of that, either.
But they’re looking at you, all four of them. And in some way, you know that it’s you they’ve come for.
“This is the one?” A male with reddish-brown hair asks.
“I have only one.” Your father answers, and he jerks a chin in your direction. “That is it.”
It.
“Scrawny. There’s barely anything of her.” A second male comments. “This won’t be difficult.”
“I always think that,” reddish-brown answers, “and then they start fighting back. Kicking and scratching.”
You may only be five, but you are not foolish. Something is very, very wrong. A sinister wave has swept your already-miserable home, and you are about to be swallowed up in it. You eye the four males with wide eyes and scoot back a little.
Reddish-brown is the leader. He folds his arms with an authoritative air and announces, “Pathorn and Yevmael can hold her down,” he turns to the second male, “you take one wing, and I’ll take the other.”
The male that steps towards you from the back has eyes as black as the soot in the hearth. His lips twitch up on one side, and he says, “Come here, then, little pup.”
You do not move.
“Come.” He repeats. “It won’t hurt…much.”
They laugh at that.
You tuck your dirty, bruised knees tightly into your chest and rest your chin atop of them. You say nothing, make no move.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” His friend at the back says, stalking over to you. “Just pick her up.”
He does exactly that — by the scruff of your neck. You yelp as he yanks you into the air, and on instinct, your arms are flailing, legs kicking, tiny wings flaring.
“Look at that.” Charcoal eyes sneers at those very wings. “It’s a fucking abomination.”
If this is a game, you don’t like it. You twist in the male’s grasp, try to wriggle free, and he growls a curse at you. You growl back — a fierce, fierce noise, you think. It makes the males laugh again.
“On the table.” Reddish-brown says. “Face-down.”
“Papa,” you fight, “papa, papa, papa.”
There comes no response. It’s then that you realise he’s removed himself from the room. Left you with these monsters.
“Quiet now, pup.” Charcoal eyes says. “This won’t take long.”
You want to scratch him, and you try, even though your nails are chewed and bitten, despite mama always telling you not to do that. But mama isn’t here now and neither is papa. It’s just strangers with angry faces. Strangers who want to hurt you.
You’re slammed down onto the table, and you let out a cry. Someone holds your legs down. Another person holds your arms.
You are five years old. You like to draw pictures in the soot that covers the fireplace. You don’t like green apples, but red ones aren’t so bad. You are utterly and totally alone.
“I hope you never thought about flying.” Reddish-brown steps up to you. “That day will never come.”
And then they begin hacking at your wings.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
Your father takes you to a healer only when it’s almost too late. A fever scorches you head to toe. You think that mama returns to sit by your bedside, but that isn’t real. It’s a dream.
You’re too weak. You sleep fitfully on your front, because trembles wrack your body that continuously wake you up. You jerk every time the pain at your back gets too much.
The door opens, and you wonder if mama is returning again. You like that dream. But it’s your father, accompanied by the male who has been leaning over your weakened body for days.
“Will she live?” Your father asks.
“She will.” The healer tells him. “If she can fight off the infection.”
“Can’t you just give her a tonic, or something?”
“This is the worst wing clipping I have ever seen. There are ample healers in Illyria who are qualified to carry out the practice. What possessed you to instead leave her in the hands of a group of soldiers?”
“I will do with my child as I see fit.”
“You may no longer have a child, if she cannot fight this. Her life hangs in the balance.”
Your father makes a noise that sounds like a growl. He does that when you’re in his way, and he just wants to sit quietly without you lingering around him. “Give her a fucking tonic—”
“If she survives this,” the healer tells him, “she will be scarred and in pain for the rest of her life. You did not merely clip her wings. You butchered them. This is precisely why a healer should be the one to perform the procedure—”
Your body jerks with a fresh wave of pain, and you whimper. Both your father and the healer look over at you.
Your father’s lip curls, and he turns to the male once more. “Fix her.” He commands. “Because if you can’t, you’re helping me bury the body.”
No. The males will come back and put their hands on you again. They’ll bury a body. They’ll bury your body. They’re going to bury you. Soil will fall on your ruined wings, and when mama truly does come back, she’ll have only an unmarked grave to greet you at.
You try to move, but you’re strapped down. You whimper again.
Bury the body.
Bury the body.
Bury the—
Your body lurches up.
Sweat slicks your skin. You press a hand to your forehead, but it’s cool, not burdened by fever. You’ve awoken like this every morning for the past week.
The dreams are burdening you a lot right now. The memories.
They remind you, at least, why you will not return to your father’s home. Even if you end up hunching yourself up in doorways and exhausting any other dire options.
You hear a noise from the doorway, and you rub the bleariness from your eyes. Illuminated by the dim light in the hall, a male leans against the doorframe. He watches you nonchalantly, biting into an apple. Green, not red.
“You were shouting in your sleep again.”
You heave a deep, slow sigh and rake your fingers through your hair. Sweat soaks the strands.
“You dream often about burying bodies, don’t you?” The male steps into the room. He flares his wings, and you try not to look at them. “You’re quite odd. I think I like it.”
“Get out, Markis.” You sigh again. “Stop watching me sleep. It’s strange.”
“Is it more or less strange than chanting about burying a body?” He smirks. “And you’re in my house, remember? You can’t tell me to get out.”
“Yeah, well, it’s my house, too, and I can.” Suddenly, Vegha is appearing. She swats her younger brother, and a slither of relief settles into you. “Stop bugging her, Markis. Go to the training rings, or something.”
Markis so clearly doesn’t want to leave. He eyes you, his gaze falling from your neck, down to the old, threadbare sweater that you’ve been sleeping in. It’s Azriel’s — still smells like him.
The intensity of the male’s gaze is uncomfortable. And after a week of tolerating it, you’re not sure you can any longer.
“Fine.” He swallows down a bite of apple. He sends you a leering smirk. “I’ll tell your friends you said hello.”
Vegha rolls her eyes. “Markis, just leave before I boil your entire head—
“I’m going, I’m going.”
The male strides out of the room, shooting you one last look over his shoulder. You should ignore it, because the idiot is just basking in the novelty of having a female under his roof that he’s not related to, but the discomfort has sunk itself under your skin, and you’re not sure you can live with it.
Which is a bit of a problem, considering there are no other avenues for you to explore, and have nowhere else to go.
Vegha shuts the door behind her brother and turns to you. “You slept fitfully again.”
“Yes.” You feel a little bad admitting it. It’s not her, nor her family home, nor the bed that’s the problem. It’s you. All you. “I have a lot on my mind.”
“Of course, you do. I wish there was more I could do to help.”
“You’ve done more than enough, Vegha.”
She doesn’t look convinced. The worried streak in her eyes is an indicator of how terrible you look. And you know she’s just caring for you as your friend, but you can’t stand it. One more pitying glance may push you over the edge.
“I have to get to the crèche.” She tells you. “Can I get you anything before I leave?”
“No—thank you.” You sit up. “Listen…I won’t be here when you return home. I’m getting out of your hair today.”
She pauses. Studies you. “You’re not in my hair. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you need. Ignore Markis — he’s a cock.”
You breathe a soft laugh. But you can’t ignore Markis — not any longer. Just as you haven’t been able to ignore any of the males who have made the past week even more difficult than it already was.
Illyrian males are…are a sickness. They’re bred in violence and depravity. So few of them are good.
And if the past week without Azriel, Rhys and Cassian has taught you anything, it’s that to some degree, your exposure to such behaviours has always been muted, thanks to their protection. They’ve been a strong unit around you since you were eleven years old. Most males have been wise enough to steer clear and escape the wrath that would come down on them for messing with you.
But now you’re forbidden from seeing them, and you’re free game for any fucking male in this gods-forsaken place.
You need to be away from them. To be on your own.
“I know.” You answer Vegha. “And I appreciate you opening your home to me, I really do. But it’s fine — I’ve made other arrangements.”
The look she gives you is dubious. She doesn’t believe you, and rightfully so — it’s total bullshit. “You have?”
“I have.” You dip your chin. “I’ll be just fine.”
“…well I’m glad to hear it. You’ll come right back here if those plans fall through, right?”
“Of course I will.” No.
She hesitates at the door. She’s been nothing but kind and accommodating to you — a real friend.
But it’s bad enough not being able to escape the males that haunt your dreams. There’s a damn good reason for you staunchly refusing to return to your father. You will not swap one monster for another.
“I’ll see you soon, then.” Vegha studies you. There’s a sadness in her brown eyes. She genuinely cares. “Take care, Y/N.”
“I will.” You force a breezing smile. “And you, also.”
She inclines her head, and then she’s slipping out of the room. The silence only gives way for your too-near dreams to dig their claws in. You scrub your hands harshly over your face and push to your feet.
You don’t know where you’ll go. It’s tempting to ignore Lord Devlon’s warning and race back to the cottage. Drama may await you there — a total mess that you somewhat made for yourself — but at least you’d be warm and safe while facing it.
You can’t — you know you can’t. You don’t want Az or Cass or Rhys to face any consequences.
So after you get yourself ready and gather what little stuff you have, you head out into the snow and hope you won’t be sleeping in it that night.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
Azriel strikes at the sparring dummy as if it fucked his wife and stole his seat at the dinner table.
The damn things are supposed to be bolted to the ground, but a couple of bolts are no match against the fearsome shadowsinger.
He strikes and strikes until the object is more or less obliterated, because fuck the sparring dummy, that’s why. Fuck the sparring dummy, and fuck Lord Devlon, and fuck—
“I think you made your point.” A trilling voice cuts through his red mist of rage. “How about you set the sword down and have some water?”
Perhaps it’s just Azriel’s anger thinking for him, but he doesn’t feel that Kaeda has been particularly helpful from where she’s perched atop a smooth rock. She cleans her nails with the tip of a dagger and stretches her wings out around her.
Across the ring, Cassian watches and turns to Rhysand. “Why is she allowed to be here, but Y/N isn’t?”
Rhys shrugs his tense shoulders. He doesn’t know the answer.
The two of them step closer to where their brother is trying to breathe through his fury. He’s not coping so well.
See, Azriel has experience with missing things. He misses his mother all the time. Sometimes it’s a dull ache, manageable amongst the mundane comings and goings of life. Other times, it hurts so bad that he doesn’t think clawing his chest open would be too extreme a reaction. Missing a person is a sensation that knits itself under his skin and seeps into the marrow of his bones. It’s relentless and hideous.
Missing Y/N is a new kind of torture he never contemplated having to face.
It’s not just that he’s worried about where she is, whether or not she’s safe and well. It’s that he misses the silliest, tiniest things about her that he didn’t even know he’d ever noticed in the first damn place. The rapt determination with which she cuts the crusts off her bread because that’s a little too much bread for her. The way she gestures wildly with her hands whilst passionately talking about things. That ruined, tattered journal she carries around in which she scrawls blunt, one-sentenced, sometimes unintelligible thoughts. And her scent — gods, her scent.
It has been one week — an amount of time he’s spent away from her before. But it’s different this time. This isn’t like being away on a training exercise and knowing he’ll soon be coming home. He knows nothing. Doesn’t even know what to think, what to feel.
Other than an overt urge to murder the camp lord. Violently.
“How about we get done here and head to the mead hall?” Kaeda breaks through his warring thoughts. “I’m starved.”
Az grabs a nearby rag, wiping the sweat from his face. “Not really hungry.”
There’s a pause. And then a soft sigh leaves the female. She sheathes her blade and pushes to her feet, just as Rhys and Cassian are approaching. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, Azriel, but you can’t be visiting my father with this attitude.”
At once, this grabs the other two males’ interests, and Azriel wants to groan. Right. He’d forgotten about that.
“What’s this?” Rhys frowns, staring between Az and Kaeda. “You’re returning to Fenlaros?”
“My father invited Azriel to dine with us, that’s all.” Kaeda answers for him.
It had genuinely slipped Azriel’s mind. Amongst everything else waging war in his thoughts, a dinner with Kaeda’s family in Fenlaros had sunk right to the bottom.
But he knows immediately how it looks. That he’s being secretive.
Rhys studies Azriel closely. “And you’ve cleared this with Devlon?”
No, no he hadn’t. Quite simply, he’s not sure he can be within twenty feet of the bastard, right now, without throttling him.
He hates himself for it — he really, truly does. But for the sake of sparing himself a lecture, he shrugs. “I have.”
He does not lie to his brothers. And they can smell that lie on him right away.
Cassian stares at Kaeda for a long moment, before turning towards Az. “That is a fucking terrible idea, and you know it.”
“It’s dinner.” Kaeda shoots back.
Cass grits his teeth. “I’m talking to Azriel.”
“Listen, Cassian—”
“Excuse me—I’m sorry to interrupt.”
All four of them turn in the direction of the intrusion —and they stop short.
All three of the males know Vegha, of course. Rhys was grateful that she’d so willingly opened her home to Y/N when he’d asked. But other than that, they’ve only spoken to her in passing — she’s never had reason to seek them out before.
But what adds a slither of urgency to her rare appearance at the training rings is the even rarer appearance of the two little girls who hold her hands. They’re not supposed to be here, and Vegha knows this well.
She obviously deemed whatever this is urgent enough to bypass that rule.
“Vegha.” Azriel steps forward, studying her closely. “Is all well?”
Vegha shifts on her feet, clutching tighter onto the girls’ hands. She’s never comfortable here, around all these males, but it’s a different unwanted attention that makes her want to turn and leave.
Kaeda eyes her head to toe with a look of distaste. Of mistrust. She folds her arms and flares her wings — a gesture that has the little girls gasping.
“Settle down.” Vegha squeezes their hands. She directs her attention back to the males. Strange, that she feels more comfortable with them than she does with the only other female present. “Honestly, Azriel, I’m not at all sure.”
Rhys steps forward. “Is it Y/N?”
Cassian swears — swears — that a small sigh comes from behind him. From Kaeda.
“I know you’ve been instructed to stay away, and I don’t wish to cause you any trouble.” Vegha tells them. “It’s just…well, she was staying at my home this past week, as you asked, Rhysand. I told her she was welcome for as long as she needs — that she mustn’t return to her father’s house. But just this morning, she suddenly announced that she was leaving…that she’d found somewhere else to stay.”
“And?” The word slips from Kaeda’s lips.
Yeah, Cass definitely isn’t in the mood for this today.
“And…and I’m not sure I believe her.” Vegha shrugs slowly. “My brother wasn’t exactly making it a pleasant stay, and I think she was desperate to get out of there. But I can’t imagine where she’d go. I just…thought I should tell you. You know her better than I do.”
True — except her three closest friends can’t imagine where she’d go, either, if not back to her father’s house. And they can’t imagine her resorting to that.
She has no money for a room at an inn. She doesn’t have a long list of friends who will open their homes up to her. And she most certainly can’t go back to Rhys’s mother’s cottage.
So…where? Will she pitch up in one of the abandoned tents across the camp? Will she spend her nights shivering in doorways and wondering where her next meal is coming from?
This is fucking ridiculous.
She can’t be left to live like this.
“You did the right thing, telling us.” Rhys reassures Vegha. He offers a gentle, soft smile to the girls at her sides. “How about you take these two back into the warm? We’ll deal with it.”
Gods, he’s already a High Lord through and through. Calm in the face of turmoil. Not letting on to his inner panic.
Vegha dips her chin. “Sorry, again, for interrupting.” She tugs gently at the children’s’ hands. “Come, girls.”
Rhysand’s brow furrows. Vegha is perhaps the only other good friend Y/N has in this place. There’s no way she’s made other arrangements — Rhys knows it. Cassian knows it. Azriel knows it.
“We’ve got to do something.” Azriel voices what they’re all thinking, a feral panic colouring his tone. “We can’t just leave her to face this on her own. Fuck what Devlon says. I’m not sitting back and letting her freeze or starve to death.”
Rhys chews his lip. “…I can try to speak with my father. But I’m not hopeful where he’s concerned. This falls under Devlon’s jurisdiction.”
“All Y/N needs is a roof over her head and some food in her belly until we can work out what to do next.” Cassian crosses his arms over his chest. “There’s got to be some way we can help. Is there not any clue of where she might go?”
The two males are looking at Az expectantly. If anyone knows, it’s him.
But he’s just…he’s not had his eye on the ball recently. His thoughts are all over the place. Perhaps he’s neglected his friendships a little — because he could swear he knows Y/N inside and out, and yet his mind is blank. Utterly fucking blank.
“I—I need to think.” He runs a hand through his hair, turning — he stops at the flash of red hair that meets him. He’d forgotten Kaeda was even there.
She stares between them, saying nothing, her face pinched and arms crossed. What she’s thinking, Az isn’t sure. But a thought suddenly strikes him.
“Kaeda.” He faces her properly. “Can’t you house Y/N in Fenlaros for the time being? Until this is sorted?”
Kaeda stops short. Blinks at him. “…What?”
“It doesn’t have to be your home, or…or even anything extravagant. Just somewhere she can sleep. There are surely more options in Fenlaros than there are here.”
Kaeda does not like this one bit. A negative reaction is rippling off her in waves, and it hits Cassian like a blast of cold air. Rhys, too.
But Az seems oblivious.
“Azriel…” The female keeps her voice calm, measured. “You know it isn’t that easy. A person can’t just…defect to another camp.”
“She wouldn’t—”
“So what’s your excuse?” The words are falling from Cassian’s lips before he can stop himself. He’s not sure he cares.
Kaeda pauses. Her face is a sheet of wide-eyed innocence as she turns to him. “Pardon me?”
Cass shrugs one shoulder. “You’ve been buzzing around here for months like a fly. What’s your excuse, if that’s not allowed? Because your father may be Lord of Fenlaros, sweetheart, and he may let you do whatever you want, but look around you. This is Windhaven. His word doesn’t mean shit here.”
Azriel takes a step towards him. “Cassian—”
“Either help our friend, or stay the fuck out of it—”
“Cassian, that is enough—”
“It’s fine, Azriel.” Kaeda’s voice is so deceptively warm, you could melt butter on it. She steps towards Cassian, face open, hands held up in a placating manner. “It’s fine. You’re right. I understand you’re upset, and I…I apologise if my presence here has been burdensome. Of course I’ll help any way that I can. I’ll talk to my father right away.”
Cass doesn’t feel particularly satisfied by that. Doesn’t believe a fucking word, to be honest. His eyes communicate that as he stares the female up and down.
“Cass, I think you should apologise.” Azriel says.
He barks a laugh. “No chance.”
“Kaeda just said she’d help—”
“Enough.” Rhys finally jumps in. His tone is laced with authority — just a smidgen of an idea of what he might one day be like as High Lord. He crosses his arms and glares the three of them down as though they’re bickering younglings. “Arguing back and forth will do nothing to help Y/N. We need to act. I will speak to my father. Kaeda will speak to hers. Az, you should see if you can find out where Y/N might have gone. Cass, I want you making sure she doesn’t go anywhere near her fucking father’s house. By the end of the day, we should have at least sorted something. Understood?”
Cass doesn’t look away from Kaeda. He can see her eye twitching — the way she so desperately wants to push back against being ordered. Gods, how Az can’t see right through her, he has no clue—
“Understood.” Azriel answers without hesitation. “I’ll get right on it.”
Rhys inclines his head. “As will I.”
“And I’ll head back to Fenlaros.” Kaeda adds.
Cassian merely shrugs. “Fine.”
Without goodbyes, Azriel is shooting into the skies — probably hoping to get an aerial view of a sodden, freezing Y/N traipsing through the snow.
Rhys looks between Cassian and Kaeda for a beat longer before he disappears, winnowing — Cass assumes — straight to Velaris.
And then there were two.
Kaeda turns back to Cass. The doe-eyed look on her face is instantly gone. There’s a hint of a damn smirk.
“Whatever game you’re playing at,” Cassian clenches his jaw. “You will not win.”
A soft hiccup of a laugh escapes the redhead. “Oh, yes I will.” She steps closer. Close enough for her cotton-and-powder scent to envelop the male. “See, I always get what I want. Always.”
“Not this time. Azriel may not see you for the viper that you are, but I do.” He grits his teeth. “And I will fucking destroy you before you cause any damage.”
Green eyes glitter back at him. The female is unperturbed by the threat — and she knows he means it. There’s even a change in her scent that makes Cassian’s nostrils flare. A darker one. A muskier one.
“Oh, Cassian, I do hope so.” She says, and pushes up so her lips are at his ear. Her full breasts brush his chest. “I love a male who’s willing to punish me.”
She winnows away before the snarl has a chance to claw up Cassian’s throat.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
This is starting to feel like a bad idea.
It was easy, from the warmth and comfort of Vegha’s home, to convince yourself you’d be fine out amongst the wilds of the camp. But the old armoury is dark, dingy and cold, and within hours, you’re not sure you have the resolve for a single night there. Let alone however many you have ahead of you.
This used to be a place of mischief, when you and your friends were children. This far end of the camp has sat abandoned and unused for years, after newer, more effective training rings were installed where the hub of activity now lays. The four of you would spend days here, playing pretend with the old, wooden practice swords that were left behind. You’d make up stories of the area being haunted by the ghost of an ancient, disgruntled Camp Lord. And as you got older, it became a place to come and get drunk, to speak words and secrets that remained there, never to be carried away with you.
You won’t be bothered here, you know — nobody ventures this way. But that, and the fact that the old armoury affords you a roof over your head, are about the only positives. You’re so cold that it hurts. You’re hungry and miserable and tired in a way that has nothing to do with nightmare-filled sleeps.
And gods, you miss your friends. You miss them so much, it‘s a gnawing ache. All those nights you took for granted, tucked up warm in the cottage, Cassian making you all laugh with his antics. Those times seem so distant, now. Is this how it will be, from now on? Never did you think you’d be separated from your friends. And you don’t even know if this is a permanent thing. Will you have to wait and wait until Rhysand is High Lord and able to make decisions, before you can see them again?
These thoughts will do you no good. They’ll only make you colder and drive you to shed tears that you’re not sure you have the energy to shed.
You bundle in your blanket, squeezing your eyes shut as though that fruitless act will shield you from the cold. You were tempted to build a fire, but the last thing you want is to draw attention from anyone flying above. Being found in here will just bring you more trouble you don’t need.
You’re already hunched as it is, gloved hands buried under your armpits — but you somehow manage to tense even more when you hear the distinct sound of boots traipsing through the snow outside.
No.
You can’t do this — not right now. Nobody fucking comes here. Is the Mother laughing at you from above and sprinkling more misfortune into your already-dire existence? You can’t handle a confrontation, can’t handle being told you can’t stay here—
But the door creaks open, and it’s Azriel’s face that peers around cautiously. You almost sob with relief.
“Thank fuck.” He breathes. He’s slipping inside, shutting the door behind him. In a few great strides, he’s in front of you and dropping to his knees. “Are you alright?”
If you speak, you might crack. You risk it all the same. “How did you find me?”
“Took me a while to think of this place, I must admit. It’s been a long while since we were last here.”
But find you, he did. And fuck, his scent and natural warmth are swarming you. It feels like nothing else matters right then. Just you and him, like it’s always been. He yanks you into a hug, and you don’t stop him.
“You’re frozen.” He whispers, squeezing you. His gloved hands rub at your arms, your back, your shoulders. He pulls away to cup your face, and he studies every inch of it. You’re not sure what for.
But you stare back. You don’t know what to do or say. That could be the cold making it difficult to think, or it could be this weird wedge between you that feels like it’s only growing.
Az leans closer, and he presses his forehead against yours. “I miss you.” His gloves brush over your cheeks. “Gods, I miss you. So much.”
“I miss you, too.” You shudder. The words are weighty and truthful, not just referring to this past week apart, but to whatever has been going on for a while, now. You didn’t mean for it to be like this. You just want to go back to how it was.
“I’ve thought about nothing else—” His nose bumps against yours, and one of his hands slides to the nape of your neck, kneading the skin there. “I just—just need you close to me, Y/N. Always.”
You attempt a breathy laugh. “I don’t think Devlon would agree with that.”
“Fuck, Devlon. We’re going to get around this. Rhys is going to talk to his father, and even if that fails, Kaeda is talking to hers. I reckon they’ll be able to offer you sanctuary in Fenlaros until this is sorted—”
You pull back to blink at him. Study him. “What?”
“I asked Kaeda to speak with her father on your behalf. To see if they can find somewhere for you to stay. I’m sure they can—”
“Azriel, I’m not going to Fenlaros.”
He pauses. “…If they’ll have you, Y/N, yes you are. It means you’ll be safe and warm and fed—”
“No.”
“What? Why?”
“Besides the fact that I’m already in enough trouble thanks to that place?” You pull away from him, easing to your feet. “I don’t know anyone there. And if Devlon were to find out—”
“Stop worrying about Devlon and start worrying about your safety.” Azriel, too, stands. “It’s the most logical thing.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Y/N.”
“I’m not going further away from you than I already am, and I’m especially not going to start playing house with your lover, Azriel, it’s odd—”
“That’s what this is about?” He cocks an eyebrow. Folds his arms. “Because you don’t want to accept help from Kaeda?”
You shrug. And just…just to give your body something to do, you begin pacing. “I’m not sure it would be very helpful at all.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You just don’t like her, do you?” He snaps. The sound is harsh, and it makes you grit your teeth. “You’re not willing to accept help that you so clearly fucking need, because you don’t like Kaeda.”
“I don’t trust Kaeda.” You whirl around to face him. “Not one fucking bit, and you shouldn’t, either.”
“Why?”
“Because none of it makes sense! Why is she here in Windhaven, Azriel? What is it she actually wants?”
It’s dangerous — the way your voices are rising in volume and echoing around the armoury. But it’s as though weeks of emotional buildup are floating to the surface, and you can’t stop them, and they’re stoking an anger that actually warms you and feels better than being cold and hungry.
Azriel shakes his head. “You’re fucking impossible sometimes, you know that? You don’t want to help yourself. It’s like you’re determined to make your life as difficult as possible, and when you’re offered help, you don’t take it. You’re impossible!”
“Yeah, Azriel, maybe I am.” You snap back. “But at least I’m not lying through my teeth like Kaeda is, and at least I don’t break my damn promises.”
Azriel stops short. Stares at you.
You and he both know you’re referring to Solstice Night. You should have confronted it before, but…but you buried it.
You’re not sure you can do that anymore.
Azriel purses his lips. And then has the nerve to state, “Things are different between you and I these days.”
“Yes.” You stare back at him. “They are.”
Your eyes are trying to communicate so much. Things are different, and it might be the boundaries you crossed, but you’re more certain than anything that it’s Kaeda’s influence. You just don’t understand why Azriel can’t see it.
You wonder what he might say yet. So much anger and pent-up frustration zips between you. Mixed with longing and missing each other. Loving each other. Wanting to scream at each other, and for each other.
And part of you wants him to spit vicious words and fight back, just for you to feel something — even though you know that’s not Azriel’s style. But you stare and stare, and neither of you speak, and then Az is shaking his head and clenching his jaw.
“I’m not arguing with you here.” He says. “It’ll only draw attention to us.”
You fold your arms. “Fine.”
“I’m going to speak to Rhys, find out what his father said. And I’ll speak to Kaeda—”
“Go right ahead. I’m still not stepping foot back in Fenlaros—”
“And I’ll bring you some blankets and food. Or Cassian will. Or…whatever.” He stops still for a second, swallowing. “But we need to fix this shit between us.”
You know that. But you’re so fucking stubborn, your own worst enemy. And right then, you want to scream. Cry. Hurt him how he hurt you.
So you say nothing. You just shrug again.
He stares, as if waiting for a better reaction. And then he shakes his head once more and turns, striding back to the door. You wonder if it’s a bad thing to let him go, like this. When will you see him again? How will things be when you see him again? You’re making it worse for yourself, for him, for both of you.
You open your mouth — to say what, you’re not sure. But you’re stopped by Az pausing with his hand on the doorknob. With his back to you, his shoulders tense. He’s frozen in place.
And then he speaks — growls — two words. “Fuck this.”
He turns, marching back over to you so fast, you don’t have time to react.
And then he’s grabbing your face, and his mouth is on yours.
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azriel tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd
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lqfiles · 4 months
Text
SCORE THAT GOAL! — 25. NOT my boyfriend
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(wc: 1.054)
“thank you for waiting for me.” chenle had walked over to you with a happy smile present on his face. you returned the expression and stood up from the bench you had sat on. “no problem, i felt like being nice today.” you joked and handed him the bottle he had asked you to hold for him. chenle chuckled. “i better savour this rare moment then.” dapping the sweat off his face with his shirt, he quickly put on his jacket and motioned for you to follow him out the basketball court.
“did you see that c cut i did when i was cornered by all of them? i'm too good at this.” chenle boasted as he continued to gulp down his water. you shook your head. “i'm going to be honest with you, i barely understood what was going on but you scored a lot of times so i'm just going to agree with you.” chenle laughed, sparing you a quick glance. “that’s all that matters.”
“what’s with the sudden request of watching your club practice anyways? do you like my company that much?” you teased, earning a nudge from chenle who quickly went into defense mode. “don’t get too full of yourself, sungchan snuck away when i wasn’t looking and left me by myself today. can you believe he said he’d rather go home and sleep than attend the club today?” chenle exclaimed in full disbelieve, making you chuckle.
“that’s actually very on brand of him.” you responded back, smile growing as you watched chenle accept the truth. “well yes- but, what happened to bros being there for bros? what happened to the saying ‘be a keeper, not a sleeper’?” chenle sulked. the two of you had started to walk without much of an aim, barely aware of where you’re heading too. the wind was carrying the journey and neither of you cared.
“you just made that saying up yourself.” you once again chuckled and chenle sighed. “whatever, this is why you should’ve joined the basketball club instead. sungchan is fake and you’re my bff, the fact that he is in the club and you aren’t just doesn’t make sense!” chenle had a mixture of a disappointment and annoyance on his face, trying to get sympathy out of you. clearly you didn’t care, because you just laughed in his face right after. “hey, be happy sungchan joined.”
“and if i had joined the club, i wouldn't have gotten to talk to jisung.” you reasoned and chenle let out a long groan, throwing his head back before he stopped in his tracks. “what do you even see in that guy? he’s weird, can’t communicate with people for shit, tall in a derogatory way and did i mention that he is weird?” chenle tried to persuade you. yet the grin that grew on your face made it clear that non of those negative traits changed your perception of jisung.
“he’s cute and good looking, he’s fun to talk to as well now that we’re friends.” you had never seen chenle’s eyes widen like that, on the verge of bulging out even. “friends?! no way… next thing you know he’s going to replace me as your best friend. i can’t let this happen.” chenle complained, holding onto your shoulders to shake some sense it you. you removed his hands, starting to feel dizzy already.
“calm down, you’re still my bff! i want him to be my boyfriend, that’s different!” you tried to explain, but the unconvinced look on chenle’s face made you sigh. in a swift motion, you pulled him in for a hug, one tight and full of assurance that would hopefully get chenle to stop sulking. “i’m serious, it’s not easy to replace you.” you pulled back with a smile and you could see chenle fighting his mouth from twitching into a grin itself. he scoffed before nudging you away (patting your head once before doing so) “i better not be.” he finally smiled.
a smile that left all too quickly, forming into a frown. “speaking of the devil himself.” chenle whispered, making you turn around instantly. you almost screeched seeing jisung standing a few steps away, stopped in his tracks as he waited for the two of you to finish your affectionate moment.
“jisung! what are you doing here?!” you exclaimed, an awkward smile forming on your lips as you sent him a wave, simultaneously taking a few steps away from chenle. jisung was silent for a second before hesitantly lifting his hand up. “hi?”
“well, i.. i forgot something at college, but you guys were kind busy. did i.. interrupt something?” jisung said carefully, exchanging looks between you and chenle who had a scowl set on his face. you turned and almost gasped at the expression chenle wore, quickly tugging him aside and hitting his ribcage.
“ah sorry, we didn’t meant to block your path!” you apologised and moved all the way off the side walk, motioning for jisung to walk past. “thank you.” he muttered, gaze moving from you to chenle who was still threw him a nasty glare. “i-i’ll see you tomorrow..?”
jisung wishes he never assumed his previous encounters with you were peak awkwardness, because nothing could beat the awkward silence that overtook the air at this current moment. you were stood 10 meters away from, trying to give him space to walk while your friend looked at him like he was mentally putting a curse on him. all of this happening in total silence.
“y-yeah. i’ll see you tomorrow. hope you find your stuff at college.” you were hesitant to move, hoping jisung would move first. he did, picking up his previous pace, sparing you one last glance.
only when he turned the corner of the street did you let out a breath of air you had been holding in. the first thing you did now that you could breathe was repeatedly punch chenle on his upper arm. “ow! what was that for?!” chenle took steps back from you and your assault.
“no what was THAT about? did you have to glare at him? now he probably thinks you hate him.” you rubbed your hand over your face in distress, it didn’t help that you could hear chenle laughing from beside you.
“he wouldn’t be wrong.”
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previous — master list — next
notes ; ngl the next chapter is going to be so cute 😝
TAGLIST ; @rksbae @222brainrot @severefireangelprune @violetvoo @prdshobi @kikookii @haechansbbg @en-dream @bbxnny-bbxtch @cvpidxo @jaeminslattes @90s-belladonna @softieluvsyou @wenjunblossoms @be0mluver @jeongintwt @myhaechan @love1again @ckline35 @cassie6392 @hibernatinghamster @starboys-gf @rllymark @mfaal @snflwrhaerecs4u @sunflowerbebe07 @ahnneyong @enhalovie @galacticpurpl3 @manooffline @luv4jeno @mikadorbs @1moo7 @ksywoo @ohdudehesflirting @savluvsmingi @finnydraws @invumi @crvzy-fujoshi @peterparkerluvvbot @hrjunluvs @i2kittenz @jisungji @http-peachie @jisyng @sweetcandycum @giaccolo @shotaroswifeyily @sinsgaybutthatsokay @be-my-sunrise @syzavxy @kyusqult @mxlly143 @o-schist @bigjishirt @snuglyjwi @hyunniesvlog @shuaadmirer
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mellowsaturns · 1 year
Text
someone’s calling my name (and it sounds like you)
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BUCKY BARNES X FEM!READER
summary: after a mission gone wrong, bucky finds himself on the brink of unconsciousness and then you show up which causes him to reveal his true feelings
warnings: hurt!bucky, sad!reader, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, description of injuries, whump-ish, pining, confessions, typical self-deprecating bucky behaviour
wc: 2.1k
- - - 
“Why isn’t the serum working!?” you scream, pressing onto Bucky’s wound as hard as you can.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
It was Bucky’s last day on his week-long mission. He was supposed to enter the abandoned bunker to scope for any remaining files on biohazardous weapons that the enemy might still have laying around to make sure they don’t fall into the wrong hands.
But when you and Nat went to pick him up at the rendezvous spot, he was perched against a tree—bloodied and limp. He couldn’t even make it into the cabin that was only a few feet away.
And when you ran over, the sight of him made your stomach drop.
“The wounds are too deep. The serum can’t heal the tissues in time,” Nat yells from the cockpit of the Quinjet. “He needs medical attention. I’ve already contacted Tony to have the team ready.”
Bucky squirms underneath you, eyes still closed as painful grunts escape his lips.
You curse and fight back tears, hands turning more and more crimson each minute. “Nat,” you whimper, “please fly faster.”
“I’m trying my best,” she replies.
You rip a piece of cloth nearby and try your best to bandage his abdomen as tight as possible to slow the bleeding. He lets out a loud agonizing noise this time, one that raises every single hair on your body.
“It’s going to be alright, okay? We’re almost at the Compound,” you assure.
“Got ambushed,” he manages to say through the pain.
You had a feeling he did. “I know.” You bring one of your hands to squeeze his, “How are you feeling?”
There’s a nasty bruise forming around his eye, a busted lip, ghastly cuts splitting the leather of his stealth suit and most notably, the bullet wound in his abdomen that’s causing most of the blood loss. You can already tell by the look on his face that he’s in so much pain—which says a lot since he’s enhanced—so it’s a redundant question, really. But anything to keep his stream of consciousness going.
“Hurts,” he groans. “How bad is it?”
“Nothing that can’t be fixed,” you say, being as optimistic as possible. “Can you open your eyes for me?”
The slow and gentle fluttering of his lashes reminds you of the first snow.
You take a deep breath before mustering a smile. “Hey Bucky.”
Bucky stares for a while. Then your name comes out as a quiet whisper, so delicate that you almost miss it due to your loud distressed heartbeat.
“Yes,” you nod, “it’s me. I’m here.”
“How?”
In truth, you weren’t supposed to be here. Nat was the one assigned to pick Bucky up but ever since you woke up today, an eerie bad feeling surrounded and loomed over you like a dark cloud. It just felt like something wasn’t right—an anxious feeling growing stronger and stronger each passing minute. And when you saw Nat at breakfast, the words, “Let me come with you,” came out of your mouth before you could even stop it.
“I came with Nat,” you answer, voice quivering when you’re reminded of your intuition. I knew it.
“No. You can’t be her,” he says, “you can’t.”
“What do you mean?” you question while pushing the hairs from his forehead. You turn his head to check for any signs of a concussion. “I’m right here.”
“You can’t…” he continues to persist. “She wouldn’t come all the way for me.”
What?
“Bucky, what are you saying? What do you mean she wouldn’t come all the way for you?”
“I’m not worth her time,” he mumbles.
You freeze, finally understanding the situation. He doesn’t believe you’re actually here. He thinks you aren’t real, that you are someone else. “Bucky, I— ”
He cuts you off, “There’s nothing I can offer her. Why would she care for me?”
After Hydra and all the shit he’s been through, he never thought he would be able to feel the normal emotions an average person would feel ever again. Then he got formally introduced to the team after deciding he was finally ready to join the Avengers and his heart skipped a beat at the sight of you—a feeling he hadn’t experienced since what felt like forever. And when he finally got to know you, Bucky never felt so alive. The interactions during team missions and exchanges around the Tower had Bucky falling hopelessly in love with you.
He clears his throat and a tender smile appears. “She’s so special. Has this amazing smile and cutest laugh. She also has the kindest heart but always kicks ass when she needs to,” he says.
Bucky never thought he would love again until you. But he knows the feeling will never be reciprocated. Friendship was one thing, but devoting yourself to someone was something else entirely. And who would want to be with someone as messed up as him?
His smile slowly turns into a frown. “But I’m just… me and there’s nothing I could offer her. There’s nothing to love.”
Your lips tremble at his words, too distraught to even notice the tear sliding down your face.
How can he talk about himself like this? Doesn’t he know that there is so much to admire and cherish? Sometimes, you even think you need a bigger heart, perhaps even two, in order to fit all the love you have for him.
That amazing smile he mentioned was only evident because of him. The smile that only appears when he’s around. Like when he offers to stay with you to clean up the training room. Or when he chooses the spot next to you during movie night.
That cute laugh he mentioned was most of his doing—like whenever he tells dad jokes that don't really make any sense until he explains it, only for you to laugh harder when you finally do. Or when Tony gets angry at you winning ‘Avengers Game Night’ three times in a row and you laugh because Bucky helped you cheat, again.
And that kind heart he mentioned was because Bucky made you want to become a better person. But like he said, you could kick ass too, and you promise you would find and hunt down every single person that laid a hand on him.
You and Bucky never got past anything but the occasional teasing. And you never tried anything further, fearing rejection. But you were okay with just him being there. It didn’t matter if he was beside you, next to you or in front of you—if he was there, you were happy.
So how can he say he had nothing to offer you when his mere presence was enough?
You meet his eyes, both yours and his glistening with each other’s reflection. “You’re wrong.”
Bucky repeats your words in his head. You’re wrong.
Maybe he is wrong. Maybe he’s more than just an ex-brainwashed-assassin. Maybe he’s actually worthy of your love. And maybe you really are in front of him. It’s hard to tell. It feels like he’s in the Austrian Alps again—on the brink between life and death. But unlike the last time, there’s someone with him who’s holding his hand and guiding him through everything. Someone who looks breathtakingly like you. Must be an angel, he thinks.
“Bucky, you’re wrong,” you repeat. “There’s so much to love about you.” There’s so much I love about you.
“What does she think?”
He keeps referring to you in third-person, still not believing you're actually here and it breaks your heart a little.
You sniffle. “I think she feels the same. I’m sure she can go on and on about what she likes about you.”
“When I was escaping, all I could think about was her.”
You let out a shaky breath at his comment because all you could think about was him on the way here.
“I was… I was scared that I might not ever see her again. There’s still something I have to tell her, but whenever I try, it can’t come out.”
“And what is it that you want to tell her?”
He gulps. “That I love her.”
You let out a small cry and hold onto his hand even tighter, hoping he’ll understand.
He recoils and takes a sharp inhale as another shot of pain runs through him. It’s getting hard to talk but there’s still one question he needs to ask who he assumes is his guardian angel. “Do you think she could’ve loved me?”
His words finally break you. “I think…” you choke out, struggling to wipe the tears running relentlessly down your face, “I think she could’ve loved you.”
His eyes are slowly starting to flutter shut from exhaustion. “You think so?”
You nod and try your best to hold back your half smothered sobs. “In fact, she does love you. But she’s just too scared to tell you and it’s been gnawing at her forever,” you cry out, cradling his face with your free hand.
Your hand is caked with his blood and right there and then, you notice how human he looks. Despite having the super soldier serum flowing through his veins, he’s not invincible. He’s human. He can get hurt. He had fears. He could succumb to injuries. For a moment, you think about a life without someone like Bucky Barnes in it. You don’t think you would be able to smile again.
“She loves you too, Bucky. So don’t talk like you’re never going to see her again. Because you need to survive this so the both of you can tell each other everything.”
Survive this. He can do that, he thinks. His lovely angel is telling him that you love him. He needs to survive this and get back—back to you.
He closes his eyes and gives a weak smile, trying his best to fight off the unconsciousness that’s threatening to take over.
“Landing in two minutes!” Nat shouts.
When the Quinjet hits the ground, numerous medics come and place Bucky onto a stretcher. And as they push him to the medical bay, you hold his hand the whole way.
When you reach the entrance to the surgery room, Dr. Cho stops you for a second. “I’m sorry but you can’t enter beyond this point,” she tells you with apologetic eyes.
You nod, but before you go, “Hey, Bucky,” you quip, hoping somehow he’ll hear you. “You’re almost there. Don’t give up, okay?”
You take one last look at him before lifting his hand. “She’ll be there when you wake up,” you mutter, pressing your lips against his bruised knuckles.
And in the silence, a small whisper of “You promise?” escapes his lips and you hook your pinky with his before they wheel him into the surgery room.
Hours later, Dr. Cho finally comes out and you let out the loudest breath of relief when she says he’s stable, giving you the thumbs up to visit him.
The rest of the team joins, but you’re the one who opts to stay. Nat gives you a comforting pat on the back before you are finally left alone on the couch, the beeping of the monitor joining your saturnine sighs.
When he finally wakes, he squeezes your hand that was intertwined with his all night. You’re here, Bucky whispers to himself.
Your eyes flutter open, face brightening at the sight of him. “You’re awake.”
Bucky looks at you and panic arises at the sight of your blood-soaked shirt. But he slowly starts to remember what happened. He realizes that it was real after all. You really were there. You came for him and you stayed. And perhaps, maybe somewhere deep within him, he knew it was real all along, real enough to get him through.
“I have to tell you something,” the both of you blurt out in unison, wasting no time because life’s too precious to wait.
You both let out a small chuckle. You already know what he’s going to say—his confession is still clear in your mind. And he knows what you’re going to say, he vaguely remembers you saying the words he always wanted to hear.
“You need to rest,” you insist. “Let me… let me go first,” you say nervously.
You start from the beginning, from the moment you woke up to when he got wheeled into the operation room. And you weren’t joking when you said you could go on and on about what you like about him—you think you spent an entire hour telling him. Somewhere in-between, he wipes your tears away. You tell him your feelings and he blushes and beams at you as if he didn’t just go through a near-death experience hours ago.
“… Next time, I’m going with you on every single mission.”
“You’re not going to get sick of me?”
“I think I should be the one asking you that.”
“Impossible,” he says in certainty.
Bucky could never get sick of you. Bucky wants you there, every moment, everyday. Just like how you stayed with him through everything not once letting go of his hand, he’s going to stick by you too, no matter what happens.
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gucciwins · 3 months
Text
flirty 30
a/n: happy birthday harry! celebrating his birthday every year is always fun. I saw someone say that harry’s probably receiving a lot of sweet and kind messages because he’s so loved and I had this idea I needed to share. I hope you enjoy!!!!!!
warning: angst, mentions about restraining order, abusive relationship
Y/N☀️
Happy Birthdayyyyyy!!!! You deserve for all your wishes to come true! Hope your 30’s start off flirty!
Ten seconds later, a second text came in.
Y/N☀️
Maybe you think it’s out of the blue, but you’ve been on my mind (always are), and I hope you know, even if we don’t talk. I always hold you close in my heart. 
You deserve the world. I hope you never forget that because you gave me kindness when I thought there was none left. You gave me so much love and support. I couldn’t see my life without you—I still can’t. 
Whether you’re in my life physically or not, you will always be important to me. 
I love you, Harry. Happy Birthday! 
Harry stared at his phone, his eyes filling with tears as he read the message a second and third time. By the time he was starting the message, a fourth time, tears were running down his face. 
Y/N had been his rock. Someone he confided in, someone he could never go a day without talking to, and then suddenly she was gone. 
He had closed himself off from her because he didn’t want to see someone else making her happy. His current girlfriend at the time hated how much attention he gave to Y/N but Y/N was like sunshine to him. She shone brightly, and he needed to be in her path to receive warmth. 
Harry had listened to his ex-girlfriend, and before he could even realize his once bright circle of friends had turned dull and revolved around people he didn’t know. It also hurt him to see Y/N didn’t fight to stay in his life because Harry knew if she said anything, anything at all, about their growing distance, he would have fixed it. 
Now he sits in the morning hours of his birthday, staring at his phone, not sure how to respond. His initial thought was to invite her over and share breakfast with Y/N, but he has morning plans with his Mum and sister. 
Harry doesn’t want to leave her on read. He would hate for Y/N, believe he didn’t care, that he opened the message and had no effect on him. 
Gemma
Birthday boy! Change of plans, we’re bringing breakfast to you. Mum doesn’t want to be out on your big day. 
Harry 
Come right in. I’ll be here. 
He sighed in relief. Gemma would know what to do. He’d ask her how to reply to Y/N. Gemma loved Y/N more than him, something she reminded him of plenty. 
While Harry was preparing the table with plates and glasses. He heard a knock on the door. Harry frowned because he told them to come in. Gemma never liked to knock said it was her right as a sister to barge in. 
He swung his door open, but instead of coming in contact with familiar faces, there was a large bouquet. It was clear someone was holding it, but it was hiding them. Harry looked at the hands wrapped around the bouquet and spotted a familiar Aquarius ring on the person’s index finger. 
“Y/N,” he breathed out.
Harry reached for the flowers, needing to see her. The bouquet fell to his side when Y/N came into view.
She was beautiful. 
Harry missed her warmth. 
“Happy Birthday, Harry!” She greeted.
In the next instant, Harry wrapped her in his arms. He breathed her in, and a significant weight removed itself from his chest as if his heart was saying finally, we’re okay. Harry tried his best to hold back his tears but after months of not having her in his life and the fear that she might never return, there was no way to control it. 
“Poppet, don’t cry.” Y/N squeezed him tighter. “Are you upset I’m here?” 
“Crist, no. This is the best thing to happen,” he assured her. 
“Am I aloud in?” 
Harry laughed, “I’m sorry, yes.” 
He broke their hug but did not stop touching Y/N. Harry guided her in with a hand on her back. “Shit, Mum, and Gemma are coming,” he laughs. “They’re going to be so excited to see you.” 
Y/N tries her best to hide her smile but fails miserably. He can see right through her. “Are you the change of plans?” 
She nods, “Gemma helped orchestrate. Said we were too old to be mopey and stuck with our heads in our ass. On the other hand, Anne promised to come by for lunch.”
“Sounds like them.” 
Harry sets the large bouquet in a vase. He runs his fingers through the purple tulips. He once shared how they were his favorite, and Y/N seemed to be the only one to remember. 
“Do you want breakfast?”
“Do you want to talk?” 
It seemed they both spoke at the same time. While Harry was hungry, he knew a lot was hanging in the air.
“Let’s talk,” he gestures for her to follow him to the patio. 
Y/N loved being out here. He has so much greenery and the plants he’s accumulated. You can see all the love built into the house. Y/N missed their summer night talks where they’d be out here for hours, sometimes long after the sun came up. 
Once they settled down, Harry dropped a blanket over Y/N because he knew she ran cold. He sits next to her, leaving a small space that never existed before what happened to them.
Y/N played with the threads of the blanket, letting out a deep breath. “I guess I’ll start.” She looked up and found Harry giving her an encouraging smile. “After your fall out with Dean, things got bad.” Y/N spits out. “He—fuck, I was so confused. You wouldn’t tell me what you argued about, and Dean swore you egged him on. I knew it wasn’t true, but I was so confused, and you wouldn’t talk to me. He—Dean broke my phone. He’d follow me to work, call every ten minutes, and be outside to pick me up.” Harry felt sick hearing this. “Dad helped me get a restraining order. I moved apartments. I asked for a transfer at work. Everyone was very supportive, but every time I called you. There was no answer. It was endless voicemails. I was tired of trying,” Y/N sighed. “Therapy has been helpful, but ultimately everything was fucked. I even started therapy, for fucks sake.”
“Y/N,” he hooved his hand over her knee, waiting for her cue. After a slight nod, he placed it on top of her. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you went through that. It feels like my fault, but I’m glad you had help. I’m glad you asked for help.” 
Y/N lets her tears fall. “I was fucking scared. I wished you were there.”
Harry couldn’t stop himself from pulling her into his lap. He hated to see her cry. He hated being one of the reasons she was hurt. Harry wanted to take away all her hurt. 
“I’m sorry. I’m here now,” he promised. “Never going anywhere again.” 
Harry held Y/N close, letting her take her time to cry it out. He’s not sure how long Y/N cried until she spoke up. “I swear I’m doing better.” 
He shakes his head, “I believe you.”
Y/N settles down but makes no move to get off Harry. He quite likes her here. Harry also knows it’s his turn. 
“Simone broke me down. She found out every insecurity and brought it up every chance. It was me laughing. She said it was obnoxious. My clothes were too much, I was begging for attention. My family came over too much. You made her upset. You brought me so much happiness and everything. You were both in the same room, and she realized my attention went to you. Simone pieced something together much quicker than we did, and she managed to break it.” Harry pauses to press a kiss to the top of Y/N’s head. “I know it’s not entirely her fault. I let myself believe everything she told me. I knew they weren’t true, but when your friends stop coming or stop calling, you begin to think maybe she’s right.” 
Y/N nuzzles herself closer as if she can’t believe his words. 
“I had broken up with Simone, but she wouldn’t leave me alone. Gemma had finally had enough and told her she needed to stop or we’d be going to the press.” Harry winced. “I know she’d never do that to me, but it scared Simone. Haven’t seen her since. Not that I would. We got a restraining order.” He trailed off, glad to get that off his chest.
Y/N giggled. “What couple of best friends. We don’t need matching tattoos, just restraining orders.” 
Harry laughed so hard he almost dropped Y/N. To secure herself, she wrapped her hands around his neck. He looked into her eyes and saw his whole future in them. 
Two dumb best friends who finally opened their eyes. 
“20’s fucking sucked then,” Harry complained. 
“Not all of them,” Y/N reminds him. “I’m still 27.” 
She had a few more years to enjoy. 
“Let’s make the most of your final year before you become old like me,” he teased. 
Y/N poked his stomach. “Stop, you’re fine.” 
Harry knew he had to tell her. There was no point in keeping it in. She needed to know. 
“I love you, Y/N. I love you more every single day.” Y/N presses herself closer. “You’re my best friend. You’re the reason the sun shines brighter every day. I’m a fool without you.” Harry smiles when Y/N places her hands on his cheek. “I am in love with you. You’re the reason I get up every day. My reason to smile. The love of my life.” 
Y/N leans forward and kisses him. Harry feels his heart stop, but he kisses her back, pulling her closer. This is Y/N, his best friend. He had waited years for this moment. For years, he thought he’d never get to love or kiss her, but he is sharing the best kiss of his life on his birthday. 
He feels all the yearning leave his body and instead feels all her love pouring into him. Harry knew this kiss would change everything for the better. 
Y/N pulled away, her lips curled in a smile. “I love you, Harry. I love you today. I love you tomorrow. I will love you in every single universe we find ourselves in.” 
Harry kisses her again. It’s the best day of his life. He has an entire life with Y/N to look forward to. 
Y/n pulls away. “Happy Birthday, Harry.”
The happiest birthday, indeed. 
307 notes · View notes
mellifiedprincess · 7 months
Text
Hazel Callahan x reader
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You stare across the field, looking up into the bleachers where Hazel sat, legs sprawled out. She was in the middle of a conversation with Pj and Josie, and even though she wasn’t doing anything particularly special, you couldn’t help but gush at how endearing she looked.
You were so in love with her, it was nauseating.
You’re brought back to focus, when you suddenly feel eyes on you, realizing you’ve been staring at Hazel this whole time. She’s staring right back at you now, and you can’t help but smile. A blush coats your cheeks, as you raise a hand up and send her a small wave.
“Who are you looking at?” Pj asks Hazel, before turning to the field, where she sees you with the rest of the cheerleaders. “Yeah, that’s never gonna happen Hazel.”
“Just like you and Brittany are never gonna happen?” Hazel retorts back while rolling her pretty blue eyes.
Hazel already thought you were way out of her league, no matter how confident she was with herself, she still didn’t believe she was good enough for you. You were the sun in her sky and you didn’t even know it.
“Holy shit! Wait- you have to talk to her.” Pj exclaims to Hazel, waving her hands frantically. “I talk to her all the time, Pj. We’re friends.”
“No, talk to her about joining the fight club. Then we can convince her to bring Brittany and Isabel, teach them to defend themselves, and next thing you know we’re making out with cheerleaders.” She pauses looking between Hazel and Josie for any sign of support.
“Have you ever thought that, i don’t know, maybe some people want more than sex? I actually have feelings for Isabel, and whether Hazel wants to admit it, she has actual feelings for Y/n.” Hazel looks over at Josie with a glare, knowing she was right about not wanting to admit her feelings. Because she knew if she did, there was a big chance of being rejected.
“Blah blah blah, you’re in love. Whatever. Come on Hazel, we’re like kind of your only friends. Do this for us?”
Hazel sat in silence for a moment, looking between you and Pj. She knew there was a big chance of this plan failing, and she would end up looking like an even bigger loser than she already was. But she also just really wanted any excuse to be close to you.
“Fine. I’ll do it!”
——
“Y/n, hey! Wait up.” When you hear your name being called from down the hallway, you immediately turn, meeting eyes with Hazel. “Hi Hazel.” You can feel the blush creep up onto your cheeks, as you send her a shy smile. For a moment, all Hazel can do is stare with her mouth slightly agape. Oh wow, she is too cute. Hazel thought to herself, before clearing her throat.
“So, uh, me, Pj, and Josie were talking and have decided to start a fight club.” Her words were a bit rushed and she could tell by the slight tilt of your head and arched brow, you were completely confused. “It’s really more of a way to help with the lack of female solidarity here at school. Teach girls how to defend themselves better.”
“Oh! That sounds really cool Hazel.” “Would you wanna maybe join? Maybe you could get some of your friends to join too!” You smile at that and nod your head yes. “I’d love to! I’ll bring Britt and Isabel too, they’d totally be into it.”
“Cool, so if you want, I could meet you at your locker and we could walk to the gym together?”
“Yeah, that would be really nice.” You back away slowly, before turning to head to your next class. If you would have looked back, you would have seen the lovesick smile Hazel wore.
——
Since then, you and Hazel have grown a lot closer. Not really sure what to call your situation though. Neither of you have made the move and asked the other out officially, but you definitely weren’t just friends. I mean, you don’t sit on the laps of your other friends any time you’re together. Or find yourself making out with them, when alone.
Point is, you were definitely in love with each other, just too scared to admit it.
And now, as you sit beside Hazel, her hand placed on your thigh, surrounded by the other girls. You can’t help but be even more scared that, with the news of the club ending, so would the relationship you’ve built with Hazel.
“Why do you look so sad, sweetheart?” You look up at Hazel when she breaks you from your worrying thoughts.
“I just don’t want this to end.”
“I’m sure everyone will still hangout. Just because the club is ending doesn’t mean we have to ignore each other.” Hazels words don’t do much reassuring for you.
“Haze, that’s not what I meant. I don’t want to lose y-“ You were so close to admitting it, but Pj as usual had to ruin it.
“Guys! Stop jumping to conclusions with the goodbyes.” You couldn’t help but to roll your eyes at her. “Pj, don’t be sad it’s over, be happy it happened.” Annie tries to be optimistic, but Pj isn’t having it. “Alright, can we just all calm the fuck down, please? The club isn’t even over yet.”
“No matter what this club has brought me so much. I feel so much more powerful, and, um, protected.” “Me too.” Josie agrees with Isabel, sending her a reassuring smile.
“Great.” Pj huffs out, and you watch Hazel stand up, not really sure what’s happening. “Oh my god, Pj! I’m sorry you didn’t really get what you wanted out of this club, but I think most of us did.” Your eyes slightly widen at the raise of Hazels voice, never hearing her this upset.
“Good for fucking you Hazel. I’m glad you finally wrote one fucking email. Accomplished a lot.” “I did, actually. I practically ran this club for you and Josie.” And that was true.
Hazel dedicated almost all of her free time to this club. A club that meant more to her than it did to Pj. “Okay, let’s calm down, maybe.”
“You really think that you’re the reason we have this club?”
“The reason? No, but I can tell everyone that if you want.” Hazel looks around at everyone, then back to Pj.
What exactly did she mean by that?
“You’re so ungrateful, Hazel. You’re lucky we even let you be a part of this club.” “Pj, you’re a liar.” At that you stand up and grab Hazels hand. “Hey, why don’t you take a walk? Try to calm down a little, clear your head.”
“Yeah well, you can’t even get the girl you’ve been dreaming of fucking to actually fuck you, so.” You immediately look up at Hazel, hearing the harsh admittance. “Leave her out of this Pj.”
“Why? Don’t want her realizing how much of a loser you truly are? You don’t even have any friends.” And that just made your blood boil, Hazel had so many friends.
You watch as Hazel grabs her bag and storms down the stairs and then out the gym. “She’s so fucking drama-“ Pjs words are cut off by your fist connecting to her nose. Sending the girl to her back on the floor. “Talk to her like that again, and it’s gonna be a lot worse next time.” You turn on your heel after that and march out in search of Hazel.
You soon find her looking out at the football field from the top of the bleachers, tears slowly streaming down her face. “Hey, want some company?” You ask softly. She sadly smiles at you and reaches out for your hand, before pulling you down into her lap. Her chin rests on your shoulder, and you can feel her relax a little.
It’s quiet for a little bit. Sounds of the wind blowing breaking it every now and then, but for the most part quiet. Until Hazel breaks it.
“I love you.” It was so softly spoken, you almost missed it. Almost.
“I love you too, Hazel.” You kiss her cheek and watch as she looks at you with confusion on her pretty face. “Wait, what?”
And you laugh. You laugh because how could she not know you felt the same way. She was the moon in your night, always shining bright no matter how dark it was outside.
“Is it so hard to believe that I love you back?”
“Kinda.” She shrugs her shoulders, a shy smile on her face.
“Hazel, I’ve liked you for the longest time. Way before the club started. I thought I was so obvious.”
“I just thought you were super nice all the time.” You both laugh at this. You were two idiots in love with each other and didn’t even know it. “So, does this mean I can call you my girlfriend?” She asks you hopefully. “Only if I can call you mine.” Hazel looks at you for a few seconds before taking your chin and pulling you closer.
“Deal.” She mumbles against your lips.
When you pull away, you sit in silence just trying to catch your breath. Finally at peace with your worried thoughts from earlier in the gym.
“Oh shit!” Your sudden outburst scares Hazel. “What baby?”
“I totally broke Pjs nose before chasing after you.” Your now girlfriend stares at you with wide eyes, before bursting into a fit of giggles, causing you to start laughing too.
“She deserved it.”
634 notes · View notes
cieloclercs · 8 months
Text
what would you say (if i told you i love you)? — charles leclerc
PART: 3? (read part 2 here)
summary. in which childhood best friends blur the lines between what they’ve always known, and something more
warnings. swearing, online hate, we’re getting to the angst now 🫣 arguments, charles is an idiot, arthur and joris being sick of his shit (but what else is new)
pairings. charles leclerc x arsty!reader
face claim. tara michelle
author’s note. again, i have no idea how much modern art sells for at auctions so don’t come at me if this seems unrealistic 🙏☹️ i also feel the need to clarify that y/n has 2 instagram accounts, one personal and one for art stuff ☺️
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y/nsart auction update! 🎨
tide - sold for €12,460 erode - sold for €9,500 wave - sold for €20,890 glint - sold for €6,300
this is nothing short of a dream come true for me. the support i’ve seen both on social media and at the auction (once again, thank you to everyone who stopped by!) has been beyond anything i ever could have hoped for 🩵
if you’d told me when i was a little girl that one day people would pay for art i’ve created, i wouldn’t have believed you. i’m so so grateful to have been given this opportunity to do something that i love and to share it with the world 💗 i can’t wait to see what the future holds!
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username congratulations y/n! 💕💕
*y/nsart liked this comment
leclerc_pascale C'est tout à fait mérité. N'arrêtez jamais de peindre, ma fille, vous avez un don! / completely deserved. never stop painting, my girl, you have a gift!
y/nsart merci beaucoup 🥹 je promets de ne pas le faire x / i promise i won’t
arthur_leclerc congratulations petite sœur! / little sister
y/nsart merci arth ☺️
y/nsart also, ‘petite’? i’m literally older than you?
arthur_leclerc but you’re smaller 🙃
charles_leclerc toujours fière de toi, ma chérie ❤️ / forever proud of you, sweetheart
y/nsart 😐
charles_leclerc you’re still mad at me? ☹️
y/nsart if you wanted one of my paintings you could have just asked rather than wasting over €20,000. i would have let you have it for free
charles_leclerc i didn’t waste anything, y/n
username uh oh mom and dad are fighting 😳
username ironic how her highest selling painting was literally bought by her best friend 😭
username i guarantee you it would NOT have sold for that much if charles hadn’t been bidding
username i don’t want to be the one to say it but lately it kind of feels like y/n’s been using her friendship with charles as a way to promote her art…
username as much as i love y/n icl i think you might be right 🥲
username 🤢🤢🤢
username stop using charles’ fame to try and make yourself relevant! you’ll never be good enough for him babes 🥰
username the switch up on these comments from ‘fans’ is actually so embarrassing
username i know! it’s like as soon as y/n starts becoming successful everyone suddenly decides it’s not because of her own hard work but because of charles 🙄
username lmao how has she managed to make tens of thousands for that shit she calls art? i’m sensing a clout chaser 😂
username this REEKS of jealousy
username these comments make me sick. y/n has proved time and time again how talented and hard working she is. just because charles doesn’t know you exist doesn’t mean you get to hate on another girl who he ACTUALLY cares about. grow up.
*charles_leclerc and y/nsart liked this comment
username i feel so bad for y/n. no offence to charles but if he’d let the auction play out normally without bidding (although he does have a right to do so if he wants!) then she wouldn’t be getting all this hate right now 😔
comments on this post have been limited.
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charles_leclerc back to work 🇳🇱
view all comments…
username no y/n like? ☹️
username is y/n with you?
username guys check kym illman’s instagram! he said charles turned up to the paddock alone…
username i mean, y/n could be arriving later right?
username if y/n isn’t there it’ll be the first race she’s missed since singapore last year 😳
username y/n has a life besides charles! just because she’s not at one race doesn’t mean they’ve fallen out or anything ☺️
username but think about it…neither charles nor y/n have posted anything to do with each other since the auction a week ago normally they can barely go a day without posting each other 🥴
username can everyone just stop talking about y/n 🙄 all she ever did was distract him anyway
username forza charles! ❤️
username he’s not even smiling :((
username because he knows ferrari are shit, it’s probably nothing to do with y/n
username i didn’t even mention her? 😭
joris_trouche i think you’re missing someone mate
username JORIS??
username HE KNOWS SOMETHING!!
username JORIS PLEASE TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW
username i hate to be the bearer of bad news but y/n just posted. she’s not at the grand prix 🥲
yourusername
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replies:
arthur_leclerc oh shit arthur_leclerc what did he do joris_trouche just say the word and i’ll smack him for you 😁 ↳ yourusername please don’t do that 😭 yourfriend you don’t need him, mon amour ❤️ ↳ yourusername ☺️
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you:
did i do something wrong?
we haven’t spoken in a week
charlie 🤍:
no, y/n
you:
you won’t answer my calls
charlie 🤍:
i’ve been thinking about what you said
i don’t want you to have to deal with hate because of me
you:
so you think ignoring me is the answer?
charlie 🤍:
i’m not ignoring you, y/n, i’m trying to protect you
you:
what the fuck?
charles, i don’t care what people say about you
charlie 🤍:
but i do
isn’t it for the best? if we aren’t seen together for a while, you won’t get any of the hate
you:
you really don’t get it do you
if you think i want you to cut me off to ‘protect me’ then maybe you don’t know me as well as i thought you did
charlie 🤍:
don’t say that
i just want everyone to see you the way i do
you:
and i already told you, i don’t care what they think of me
i only care what you think
charlie 🤍:
why?
you:
i’m surprised you haven’t figured it out yet
charlie 🤍:
figured what out? [ seen at 4:11PM ]
y/n?
you:
i think it’s best if we don’t see each other for a while
bye charles
charlie 🤍:
what?! [ seen at 4:13PM ]
y/n come back [ delivered at 4:14PM ]
just tell me what you mean [ delivered at 4:20PM ]
please y/n [ delivered at 4:47PM ]
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liked by yourfriend and 1,637,937 others
scuderiaferrari A DNF in Zandvoort for Charles. Now time to refocus ready for Monza 🔜
view all comments…
username what the actual fuck was going on with him today?
username i don’t know. i’ve never seen him so distracted 😕
username honestly a rookie mistake. if he’s going to be pulling shit like this then he doesn’t deserve his seat 🤷
username it’s just one mistake?? calm down 😭
username why do i feel like this has something to do with y/n…
username oh my god will you all shut up about y/n 🙄 they’re not even dating !!
username and? they’ve been best friends since they were 5 years old. if my childhood friendship broke down i’d be pretty fucking upset about it too
username we don’t actually know that they’ve fallen out tho…neither of them have said anything
username but isn’t it obvious? y/n not at the race, charles being distracted and sulky around the paddock? they’ve definitely argued about something
username charles i can’t keep defending you when you do this 💔💔💔
username how this guy has managed to keep his seat with all these mistakes i have no idea 😒
username hopefully y/n will be in monza to bring him some good luck🤞
➜ part 4
909 notes · View notes
munsonkitten · 10 months
Text
They say it’s for his own good. Because he’s dangerous. But Steve doesn’t feel any more dangerous than he did before this whole mess. Like, seriously, he could kill literal monsters with nothing more than a bat covered in rusty nails. He doesn’t feel any more dangerous now than he did when he hit Billy Hargrove with a fucking car or when he held back in all the fights he’s ever lost. Because he could kill fucking monsters. He wasn’t gonna find out if he was capable of killing teenage boys too.
He sees Eddie sometimes.
Eddie looks dangerous, but then he always has. Even if he never was. He always had that look to him, with his leather and chains and heavy boots. Dangerous in a good way.
Now he looks bloodthirsty.
Well, ha, Steve thinks. That’s because he is.
Steve is too, but he doesn’t think that’s grounds for imprisonment. He doesn’t think that’s grounds for being held hostage in the newly reopened and renovated Hawkins Lab.
They say it’s because he’s dangerous, but if that’s the case then they should’ve locked him up years ago. They should’ve seen what was wrong with him back when he was that asshole popular kid at Hawkins High.
Every time he sees Eddie these days it’s when they’re being shoved down hallways. They have Eddie in a mask to prevent biting. Some clear plastic thing that shows his snarling face as he’s pushed. His teeth are sharp and pointed, and he has this wild look in his eyes. There’s blood inside the mask more often than not. Whether it’s someone else’s every time, or if it’s Eddie’s, Steve never really knows. A mix of both, most likely.
They make eye contact and Steve tries to tell him they’ll get out of this mess, and Eddie looks back at him like he wants to believe him, but just can’t.
Steve doesn’t blame him. He’s lost track of how long they’ve been here. He stopped counting after six months, after the lines he carved into his wall with a sharp fingernail — talon, really — became too numerous to hide behind the one pin-up girl poster they gave him for good behavior after the second week.
Weird reward, if you ask Steve. The orderly that put it up for him smirked, said something about tissues in the cabinet in the corner of his room, and then left without another word.
Really fucking weird.
The head scientist comes into Steve’s room. Steve can’t remember his name. Matthews or Mathson or… Something. Doesn’t matter. Not like Steve really needs to know. He’s just called The Doctor and that’s that.
“According to our records, today’s a very special day, indeed. Happy birthday, Steven,” he says, looking down at Steve’s chart.
So it’s February fourteenth… But —
“How old am I?” Steve asks.
“Twenty-two,” the doctor answers.
Twenty two… Which means it’s 1988. Steve’s been here over a year and a half, since June ‘86 when they took him in the dead of night. Things had been weird before that. He’d been having cravings, and Eddie came back from the dead, clawed his way out of the Upside Down all by himself. He came back different, but still the same Eddie that Steve had mourned.
Twenty two years old and he doesn’t even remember turning twenty one.
“Since it’s your birthday,” the doctor continues. “We decided you deserve a reward for being so cooperative during your stay. Something you choose yourself, anything you want — within reason, mind you. Don’t ask to get out of here because that won't be happening. But if we can get it for you, it’s yours to keep.”
“Eddie,” Steve blurts out. “I want Eddie. I want him moved into my cell permanently. Get us bunk beds or some shit.”
“Ah, yes, well,” the doctor sighs. “Mr Munson is quite….”
“Dangerous? Insane? I can keep him in check,” Steve says quickly. “Look, we were friends before all of this and now we’re in the same boat. I understand him. If you want to get through to him, do this for me and I can help.”
None of that is true, of course. He’s not gonna make Eddie do shit, and he really doesn’t think he could if he wanted to. He’s wild, a little more monster than Steve is. It probably has something to do with being stuck in the Upside Down after he died. Different, but still Eddie.
Steve doesn’t blame him for the trouble he’s been causing. He’s seen it firsthand only a couple of times, but sometimes his doctors go missing and never come back. Sometimes they’re covered in blood when they come to see him after being with Eddie.
It’s not hard to guess what happens there.
“We’ll try it,” the doctor says. “But I can’t imagine why that’s what you want.”
He writes something down on his clipboard, clicks his pen with a sigh, and stands.
“I will see what we can do.”
And then he‘s gone.
Steve waits two days. Two days where no one comes to see him, to poke him with needles or flash lights in his eyes. He’s delivered his meals through the slot in his door, but that’s all that happens. He drinks the blood they give him. Animal today, he knows. They switch it up on him, and he’s found he can tell the difference easily now. It’s not the same as human, but it does the job.
It keeps him alive. It keeps him from wanting to tear himself limb from limb because of hunger and thirst. There’s still an itch in his throat and a nagging in the back of his mind saying he’s not satisfied, but it’s better than nothing.
On the second day, he’s told to stand against the back wall, and he complies easily. Complying means rewards — it means he doesn’t get hurt. The first few days he was here he was uncooperative and they beat him. It was too much like being in the Russian bunker beneath Starcourt again.
So he stopped fighting back. He stopped spitting and hissing, he stopped trying to sink his teeth into anything he could reach. And in turn he got rewards. He’s given more time outside his room, more time to sit in a room with a rainbow around the walls and a bunch of old children’s toys.
He knows he’s at Hawkins Lab. He can feel it, can feel something in the back of his head that tells him his family is close. His real family — Robin and Nancy and Dustin and everyone else. He knows he’s in Hawkins Lab and he can’t help but wonder if El lived in the same room as him, if she pushed around the same Hot Wheels car he does when he’s bored.
He stands in his room now, and it’s really a cell, but he doesn’t like to call it that, and he watches as two men carry his bed out. Two more come in with bunk beds that look like two of the regular beds welded together — thin metal frames with thin mattresses. Straight out of a prison.
The doctor comes into the room and he’s carrying a box in his arms. Steve can’t see what’s inside it, but he thinks they might be the few personal belongings Eddie has. The box gets set on the bottom bunk. An orderly comes in with a pile of extra blankets and two pillows. Those get set on the beds, too.
They all leave without a word, but Steve knows he won’t be alone for much longer. He knows that they’re going to get Eddie to him, and soon enough, they’re both going to be able to escape. Together.
Steve doesn’t know how long he sits there on the bottom bunk, but it’s a while. He only spares a single glance into the box, and he sees a spare hospital gown, and some clean underwear inside it. There’s a book sitting on top, tattered and splattered with blood. At least Eddie has that, Steve supposes.
The heavy metal door to Steve’s room opens and Eddie is shoved in, snarling and snapping at the guard behind him, holding his hands in shackles behind his back. They have heavy wool mittens on him, his plastic mask covering the bottom half of his face. Steve’s surprised they don’t just put him in a straitjacket and throw him into a padded room.
They make eye contact, Eddie’s formerly chocolate brown eyes now deep red. His hair is pulled back into a ponytail and shows his slightly pointed ears. Steve’s look the same, and his eyes are still mostly brown, but he can see the red swirling around inside them during the few occasions he can look in the mirror.
Eddie sniffs the air through his mask, bares his teeth. Steve can see the blood in his mouth through the clear plastic.
Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. What if Eddie hurts him too? What if he’s… What if he’s not Eddie anymore? If the last bits of his humanity have drained out of him, if he’s been forced to let the monster inside take full control… Steve doesn’t know what he’ll do.
I’d let the monster take me, too, he thinks, and then immediately regrets it. He doesn’t want to be that, and in his head he’s holding a snarling beast back with wrought iron bars, in a cell not too different from the one his physical body stands in. He’s gotten this far. It would be a waste to not even try.
The guard leaves Eddie where he stands, still cuffed, and backs away to the door. He slams it shut and locks it, then slides open the food slot. Eddie growls, jerks at his cuffs, trying to get free.
“Munson!” the guard barks. “Back up against the door.”
Eddie backs up until he’s against the door and Steve hears the key unlocking the cuffs around Eddie’s wrists.
The mittens come off next, and both things get pulled through the slot. The guard quickly slides it shut. Eddie is free from his restraints, and now he and Steve are alone.
Read more on AO3
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anonymousewrites · 1 month
Text
Nature of the Human Soul (Book 1) Chapter Fourteen
Platonic! Hazbin Hotel x Teen! Reader
Father Figure! Alastor x Teen! Reader
Chapter Fourteen: Show Goes On
Summary: The Hotel rebuilds and moves on from the fight.
Mouse Note: Thank you for reading Nature of the Human Soul (Book 1)! I hope you all enjoyed because I loved writing this. I'm so excited for Hazbin Hotel to return because I have a lot of ideas for this series, and I'm excited to continue. But for now, thank you for everything! If you like my writing, please check out my other Father Figure series!
           “Noooo!” screamed Lute as Adam fell. She ran to Adam’s side, and (Y/N) backed off, narrowing their eyes in case she tried anything. “Sir! Stay with me, sir! Adam!” He was gone.
           “It’s over,” said Charlie, holding Vaggie to her side protectively.
           Lucifer loomed over Lute, and her eyes widened in fright. “Take your little friends and go home! Please.”
           Lute narrowed her eyes and picked up Adam’s halo. Furious at having no other choice, she glared at the demons before calling out to the exorcists. “Retreat. All exorcists fall back.”
           The angels rose into the air, fleeing back through the portal to heaven.
           Lucifer, pleased, turned to the hotel group. “So…who’s up for pancakes?”
           Everyone, bloody and tired, stared at him.
l
            “Good evening, I’m Katie Killjoy,” said the news report later that night.
            “And I’m—”
            “No one gives a shit who you are, Tom,” said Katie. “Breaking news: extermination day is canceled! Charlie Morningstar managed to fend off the angelic attack with more than just nice words. In an unseen turn of events, our demonic head honcho Lucifer stepped in to save his daughter’s ass in the last moment. We’re also hearing reports that Adam, leader of the Angelic Legions, first man, and totally fuckable bad boy, has been slain by a filthy gardening demon or some shit like that. The kid said, quote, ‘I hate cameras, and TV here sucks, go away’ before threatening our crew! What an asshole! Anyway, congrats to Charlie and her crew for not being totally fucking useless for once.”
l
            Charlie held Keekee as she looked over the rubble that used to be the Hazbin Hotel. They’d lost so much, so many people. “Oh, there, there, it’s…” She sighed. “It’s okay.” She tried to believe it herself, but it was difficult.
            Angel smiled at her as he held Fat Nuggets. Charlie managed to smile back and took a step towards him. She found herself in front of the “Happy First Week!” sign she’d made for Pentious. Her heart ached at his loss. Vaggie put her hands on Charlie’s shoulders comfortingly.
(Charlie) “He did it for us, The ultimate sacrifice. He gave me his trust, And look how we pay the prince.”
            Tears gathered in her eyes. She had failed her friends. Because she hadn’t been strong enough, they had gotten hurt, killed.
(Charlie) “This bloodshed could have been avoided, If I convinced heaven to work together. I took a hotel, and I destroyed it, I know I could have done better, better, Instead of letting you down.”
            Lucifer put a hand on his daughter’s shoulder and smiled at her.
(Lucifer) “Come on little lady, why the frown? In the last ten thousand years, you’re the first one to change this town, You can do this, Now I know it, For your story has just begun, You can’t quit now, Hell, you owe it, There’s still damage to be undone, You’ve changed my mind, You’ve touched their hearts.”
            Charlie looked around as her friends approached with a smile.
(Lucifer) “Found the good in souls gone bad, The stage is wrecked, the crowd is gone, But by God Charlie, The show it must go on!”
            Her friends gathered around Charlie.
(Vaggie, Cherri, (Y/N), Angel, Husk, Niffty) “We can do this, We can build it! Best hotel that you’ve ever seen! Twice the bedrooms, We can fill it!” (Lucifer) “With more sinners than you can dream!” (Lucifer and Vaggie) “It starts with you!” (Vaggie, Cherri, (Y/N), Lucifer, Angel, Husk, Niffty) “You know it’s true, Fulfill your destiny!”
            They reached out their hands. Wiping her tears and smiling, Charlie stood and took her father’s hand as the group came together for a hug.
(Charlie) “So long as I’ve got all of you with me!”
            And so, the cleanup and work began. It was tough going, but everyone pitched in, and the hotel began to come together better than before.
(Niffty) “To build a hotel, I think we need some brick and lumber!” (Lucifer) “Good thing we’re in Hell, check out this little magic number.”
            He snapped his fingers, and the supplies appeared.
(Angel) “Start with foundation.” (Lucifer) “A remedial creation for me.”
            The foundation came together in a single spell.
(Niffty, Angel, Lucifer) “It’s as easy as can be!”
            Soon, the hotel was getting decorated, rooms ready to be stayed in.
(Charlie) “No time for cryin’, We got a lot of work to do and, We gotta try and make the best of what’s in ruins.” (Vaggie) “New coat of paint!” (Husk) “New lights across the marquee!” ((Y/N)) “With a little sorcery!”
            They waved a hand, and plants grew up around the hotel, decorating it with nature amongst the barren city that Pride usually was.
            Finally, the hotel was put back together, with a statue of Dazzle outside. Charlie smiled at the painting of Pentious and the Egg Bois going up in the foyer to honor his memory. The memories of who they lost would never be forgotten as a new era of the Hazbin Hotel approached.
(All) “We can do this!” (Charlie) “We can do this!” (All) “We’ll be better!” (Charlie) “We’ll be better!” (All) “Though redemption may take a while.” (Charlie) “Though it may take a while.” (All) “Wayward sinners, clear their ledger!”
            They came together for a hug, and a familiar face popped out of the shadows.
(Alastor) “And we’re doing it with a smile!”
            (Y/N) grinned. He was healed and back with them. He had survived, too.
(Charlie) “We’ll make a difference, wait and see.” (Charlie and Vaggie) “We’re gonna do this, you and me.” (All) “And then tomorrow it will be, A fuckin’ happy day in Hell!”
            The Hazbin Hotel was open for business.
l
            (Y/N) walked through the hotel to the new wing dedicated to Alastor’s broadcasts. Obviously, it was placed on the opposite side from Lucifer’s apple-themed wing. They paused at the door of the radio and knocked.
            “Alastor?” they called out.
            The door was opened by a shadow, and (Y/N) stepped inside. Alastor was standing over the controls of the new radio, examining everything.
            “Do you like it?” asked (Y/N), slightly nervous.
           Yes, they had faced Adam, but this was…different. It was a different type of encounter. With a fight, (Y/N) knew what it felt like to suffer, to go through pain, so they could handle that. With friendship, (Y/N) had very little experience, so they weren’t sure how to deal with it.
           Alastor turned to face them. “It seems Charlie did a good job ensuring this was up to my standards. My broadcasts will be quality, as usual.”
           “Charlie didn’t make it. Well, she helped, but I, uh, I did it,” said (Y/N).
           Alastor paused, and his grin, unbidden, widened. “You did?”
           (Y/N) nodded. “I saw your tower was affected when Adam hurt you, so when we rebuilt the hotel, I made sure there was something for you to come back to.”
           “I hadn’t expected to have a broadcast tower at the hotel,” said Alastor.
           “Do you like it?” asked (Y/N).
           “I do,” said Alastor honestly.
           (Y/N) brightened. “I’m glad! And I’m glad you’re alright. Adam did a lot of damage to the hotel, killed Pentious, and hurt you pretty badly.”
           “It will take more than that to kill the Radio Demon,” said Alastor, but the unfortunate truth was that he had nearly died.
           “I faced him,” said (Y/N) suddenly.
           Alastor paused. “Oh?”
           “Yeah, I fought Adam. It didn’t go that well for me, either.” They grinned at him. “But I killed him. In the end, I killed him.” They stood proud in their strength and determination. Yes, (Y/N) had nearly fallen to Adam and Lucifer had really defeated him, but dealing the killing blow had given (Y/N) so much satisfaction.
           Alastor looked at (Y/N), and he cursed every part of him that still had some humanity since he felt something as they smiled at him. It wasn’t what he felt when Rosie laughed alongside him and teased him, but it held a familiar warmth. Although he had begun by seeing something in (Y/N) that reminded him of himself from oh-so long ago, Alastor couldn’t help but look at (Y/N) and just see them, now. It wasn’t them being like him, even if it still began there, but it was more.
           “I wouldn’t expect anything less of my protégé,” said Alastor, unable to keep the fondness completely out of his voice.
           Alastor was falling victim to all of the weaknesses he wanted to eliminate within himself.
           And (Y/N)? Well, the Nature Demon stood tall. They were growing into all the strength they had ever wished for.
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177 notes · View notes
Text
Think I need someone older
DR3 x Reader LN4!ex x Reader
I had this idea for a little while but now just doing it. I would like to use this style in my requests so got to practice.
Your WARNINGS- cheating and angst-type vibes. Horrible writing sorry besties! toxic lando!
1/2 2/2
(Y/N insta story)
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caption: Nails done for Aussie GP
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The past month has been Lando simply not making time for me. I was hoping that Australian GP would help him out because maybe it was stress. The arguments were over nothing basically and ended with me apologizing. These texts were an obvious lie but what’s the point of fighting right now. The race was yesterday and he had done good. I went supported of course, was with him at the bar until he couldn’t keep his eyes off another girl. The past month has destroyed my self esteem and I can’t be bothered anymore.
TWITTER
User1
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Lando Norris seen kissing another woman that is not his girlfriend after Australian GP.
-
There it is. The girl and of course lando. Getting into the shower, I use it to distract from the pain of being in a dead relationship. The second I’m out of the shower I’m on google searching for a nail tech to remove the nails I had gotten done for him.
Y/N insta story
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Caption: shoutout to (NailTech) for the emergency fix! 🖤
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Rolling my eyes at the messages, I start messaging my own PR team as well as Max. Max might be his best friend but he still is a loyal friend to me.
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“We’re going for a hike.” Danny says walking to the couch of the hotel where I’m sitting in a hoodie he lent me.
“Dannyyy” I whine cuddling the blanket only for him to tug it.
“We are in my homeland, no moping. I want you to remember better” he replies finishing pulling the blanket off me while I continue whining. Pulling my hands to pull me up.
“Danny people will see us and talk shit” I pout looking up at him.
“Let them, they need to be shit talking your ex more than you. Plus we can hide you from them.” He explains rubbing my arms. Sighing I lean my forehead onto his chest, “fine”.
Y/nofficial insta
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Liked by Maxfewtrell, danielricciardo, carlossainz55 and 850,788 others
Australia you were weird but also stunning. Can’t wait to be back one day, maybe see more cuties.
User1: Mother we miss you come home
User2: No Lando like but Max still liking.
-user3: Max understands how relationships should work.
Danielricciardo: I thought you were going to actually steal the joey.
-Y/nofficial: I would have if you didn’t ruin my fun
-Danielricciardo: IT NEEDS TO BE WITH HIS MOTHER Y/N
-Y/nofficial: I COULD HAVE BEEN ITS MOTHER.
-maxfewtrell: I believe you could have been a good mother
-y/nofficial: thank you Maxie, at least someone believes in me!
-danielricciardo: I’m not entertaining this, don’t steal animals.
-User4: Getting more dany/n content
User5: we see that 9th picture.
-y/nofficial: that’s my bestie 😌🫶 /savior
User6: I believe Y/n could take care of the joey herself.
-Liked by Y/nofficial
—danielricciardo: stop entertaining her, next time I’m going to put her on a leash.
-y/nofficial: mememe
JAPAN GP
Y/nofficial Instagram story:
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Caption: Japan Gp nails
-landonorris replied: text me, I’m sorry
-
2/2
148 notes · View notes
honeybeedrabble · 3 months
Text
Dangerous Desires (ix) - Home Coming
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CW: spanking/brat taming, hair pulling, biting, licking, breast play, marking, unprotected piv (dont be stupid), rough sex, slight fingering, degradation, choking, cream-pie (DONT BE STUPID), probs some shit editing, LMK what i missed !!
word count: 10K 💀💀
18+ MDNI !!!!!
You stood in front of the hokage, heart beating out of your chest. You were nervous, that much was obvious. However you couldn’t wrap your head around why you were summoned. Lady Tsunade finished writing her last few words into her notes, stapling them together and setting them aside to address you.
“You must be wondering why I’ve sent for you,” she started, sitting up in her seat. Her face was somber.
“I can’t say you’re wrong.”
“What I’m about to tell you is something only a very select few know about.” Tsunade started, hands clasped together on the desk. “We’re about to go to war.”
You were shocked- was Kakashi really telling the truth?! Was he right all along?! Your emotions were everywhere and it was evident on your face.
“I know, I know it’s a lot to take in. I myself am not sure if I’ve taken it in yet.” She seemed stressed, you could see the worry behind her soft brown eyes.
“Lady Tsunade… who are we at war with?”
“My dear who aren’t we at war with?” She sadly laughed to herself. “Truth be told we’re fighting against a greater force than we know. I hate to say this but we’re looking at a fourth great ninja war.“ Your eyes widened, body filled with anxiety.
“A fourth great war? Are you serious?”
“I’m as serious as death. In fact, there’s going to be a five kage summit soon and I’ll need to attend to talk about said war.”
“So… The war isn’t with the other nations? I mean… if there’s going to be a summit with all five nations, doesn’t that mean neither is the threat?” You asked, still confused.
“Exactly.”
“Then who’s the threat?”
“I can’t discuss that with you.”
“Then why have I been summoned Lady Tsunade? If you can’t tell me who the enemy is tell me what I’m here for.” You were starting to get angry, worried for what you’d been told previously.
“You need to fight in this war.” Tsunade said plainly. “With medical jutsu like yours we would be idiots not to use you. I’m telling you now that we’re not asking you to enlist, but rather we are drafting.” Kakashi was right.
You couldn’t believe him, it was impossible to. How could this be happening? It wasn’t long since you’ve been here and already you’re being drafted in the war. It was exactly how Kakashi had told you, no denying it. This is your job, what you were sent to do, the only thing you know how to do, so damn right you’re going to use your blessing to help all you can.
“I’m well aware of my capabilities my lady, and in fact I find it a great honor to be drafted by you personally.”
“You’re taking this a lot better than I thought you would, I must thank you for that.” She sighed a relieved breath, hand clutching her chest.
“I have no other choice but to. This is what I signed up for when moving to Konoha. I decided the day I learned my first medical justu I would help the world become a better place. If you hadn’t drafted me I would’ve signed up myself. It’s my duty, this is my home.” Your words moved Tsunade, she smiled softly at you. Her face dropped suddenly.
“I’m glad you believe that, and I’m glad to have someone like you be so ready for whatever is to come, really I am. But because you’re going to be in the war I need to to preserve your chakra. Because of this, I forbid you from working at the hospital.” She looked away from you, knowing she didn’t want to see the determination wash away from your face in real time.
“Are you… are you firing me?”
“I’m afraid so. I cant have you waste any of your precious chakra on a few sick patients when we are going to have armies full of injured shinobi on the front lines. We have enough medical personnel at the hospital already, so with you being as high ranked as you are we must save you for the battlefield. You understand don’t you?”
“Lady Tsunade what more do I have other than my job? How long will it be until we are in war? I-I can’t be out of work that long.”
“I’m sorry but my hands are tied.” Her voice was almost as sad as yours, she worriedly watched as your eyes started to well with tears.
“Please my lady. Don’t do this to me.” She got up from her desk and walked over to you, hugging you tightly against her.
“It’s going to be alright, I promise. I just need you to rest up. We’ll be destroyed without you, please just trust me.” You hugged eachother until you could calm down, you wiped any tears that fell and stepped aside.
“Lady Tsunade I have a request to make.”
“What is it dear?”
“I want to go home. Back to my village and see my parents one last time before I go to war. I think it’s only reasonable to see them one last time, as me coming home alive and well is uncertain.” Tsunade stepped back and looked at you, a hand draped softly on your shoulder.
“I accept the request. How long will you be gone?”
“Probably under a week.”
“Then so be it. You’re dismissed.”
You walked out of the office and back home with an intense sadness inside of you. You gave up on Kakashi because you loved your job. Now your job has been stolen from you and it was all for nothing. Everything that had given you value- that had given you purpose- is now gone. You wondered if you should even return home or not.
You decided it would be a good idea if you told your friends Machi and Gale you’d be gone for the next few days, back at home until you decided you needed to come back. They understood and wished you well on your journey.
Kakashi was a mess, thinking about how poorly he treated you during your sexcapade, saying he hated you and fucking you so roughly he wasn’t sure if he had hurt you or not. Who care if he did? You hurt him worse. You hurt him in a way nobody else has. How could you treat him like he was somebody only to leave him like he was nothing? At least, that’s how he saw it.
Business at The Poison Sandwich was slow today, maybe the sadness was in the air. Kakashi ate his BLT, thoughts of you racing through his head. Even up until he heard your name uttered by the two girls you held dearly as friends.
“So she went back home.” Gale said to the cook behind the counter.
“I’ve been thinking about visiting a few of the sandwich shops in her village for a while now actually.” Percy smiled from behind the counter.
“Wait… she went back?” Kakashi interrupted, unsure if he heard right.
“Yeah, yesterday. Said she’s be back in a few days.” Machi said, looking over at Percy. “He said he was going to go the her village pretty soon to try out the food there.”
“Is this true Percy?” Kakashi asked his friend, who nodded as he discarded his white apron.
“Yeah. Why?”
“Can I come?” Kakashi asked, cursing himself. What was he thinking?
“Well as long as you don’t have any other plans for the rest of the day, I see no problem. I’m heading off now, so get ready.” Percy said, untying his apron and tossing it on a nearby countertop. “Ladies, you don’t mind closing shop for me, do you?”
And of course, as enamored with the man as they were, had zero issue and took care of business as he and Kakashi took off.
_____________
Kakashi was shocked to see the strange motorized bike that Percy had built, looking it up and down in shock and awe at the mechanism.
“What is this, if I may ask?”
“Well I’m not a shinobi like you so getting around to long distances isn’t easy for me. I built this myself as a way to make the trips easier.” Percy said, tossing Kakashi a black helmet. Kakashi caught it and reluctantly adorned it, his silver hair peeking out from underneath.
As Percy started the machine Kakashi sat in the back behind him, pondering why he had felt the need for such an impromptu visit to your hometown. He didn’t know why he felt this way, especially after the way you had treated him. Once again he felt alone, abandoned by your heartlessness and eager mindset to go fight off in a war that he felt would mame and kill you the second you had your back turned to the enemy.
“Kakashi… what’s been going on with you?” Percy asked, snapping Kakashi out of the trance he found himself in.
“I’m sorry?” He asked, puzzled at his friends sudden questioning.
“Listen... Gale, Machi, and I all know about your secret affair. And we don’t care- we support it honestly. But ever since you two have had a falling out… we’ve noticed a change.” Percy’s voice was somber as he drove throughout the thick forest, focused on the destination while his heart was stuck in the conversation. Kakashi was silent a moment, his mind was racing. Was it safe to tell his friend the truth? To let the secrets of his beloved lay out in front of someone who was only watching from the outside?
“I’m not sure I understand,” he replied monotoned. His outside demeanor was cool, but anyone who really knew what was going on inside his mind could tell the intricacies of his tone, picking up the way his voice would lilt anxiously as he declared this inquiry.
“Well I’m sure you do, so don’t play dumb with me Hatake,” Percy snapped, he wasn’t playing games- Kakashi was sure of this now.
“Well what do you want me to tell you? Sometimes people don’t work out the way they meant to, we don’t have control over these things. All you need to know is that me and her are… we’re complicated.”
“Bullshit.” Kakashi was taken aback.
“What are you talking about?” The wind was blowing through his hair, headband threatening to blow off his eye. He held it tight, looking at his thighs for avoidance.
“I’m talking about your seriously psychotic desire for control. You’ve wanted her from the moment you met her, haven’t you?” Percy asked, revving the engine of his bike.
“More than anything…” Kakashi admitted, vision still remained on his thighs.
“And ever since then, what have you done?”
Kakashi thought about it for a moment. What had he done? He had fucked you on his desk, broken into your home and stolen your underwear, touched you while you slept, fucked you at work, fucked you on missions- gods... the list could only go on.
“I’ve done all I could.” He clutched his fists, hating how horribly his stomach churned. “And yet it still wasn’t enough.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that my love for her has consumed me, my body, brain, and soul. She’s all I think about- ever. She’s everything, and everywhere. No matter what time of day or night, I can feel her down to the very air I breathe. I’ve tried for what has felt like forever to have her all to myself.”
“Why all to yourself?”
“Because the thought of her with anyone else makes me violent,” Kakashi said, regretting his words the very moment they spilled past his lips.
Percy remained quiet, Kakashi wasn’t sure if it was so he could talk more or not. He stayed silent for a while too. He wondered wether Percy was judging him, then again he didn’t care too much, it wasn’t him who was worried about public appearances.
“Sometimes I can feel my blood boil when I see another man talking to her. She makes me feel at peace, not just in my mind but in my soul. I love that woman down to the marrow in my bones and to think that some other man could see her and only see her for her beauty, only see her for something to use makes me sick. I can practically feel the bile in my throat just thinking about it.”
“So she makes you feel calm?” Percy didn’t seem to be turned off by the way Kakashi spoke of you, it was as if they were having a conversation so casual it was comparable to one about the weather.
“It’s beyond that,” Kakashi felt his heart flutter as he thought of you, his mind running with excitement just at the opportunity to talk about you.
“Sometimes I think about my past and all the people who have left me. Some of them chose to, some of them didn’t. Regardless, whenever I’d get attached to someone they’d leave, I didn’t have any control over it. Maybe it was because I was weak, or too young to have any real say in the matter. But now it’s different. I’m stronger and I’m older, no matter how you look at it I’m ten times the person I was all those years ago.” Percy remained silent, listening intently to his friend. Something he wouldn’t do to much of as Kakashi wasn’t the type to open up easily.
“When I met her, I knew instantly I loved her. It was a fact just as true as the sky is blue. I don’t think about all the horrible things from my youth whenever she’s around, not when all I can think about is the possibility of my old age spent with this wonderful woman. And the only way to have a future with her is if she doesn’t leave. I’ve grown beyond a simple lust for her, I've realized I can’t escape these feelings. I learned about her past, her favorite flowers and I’ve showered her in as much affection I can show without being too much. I’m sure I’ve crossed that boundary already but I can’t help it, I have too much inside to not let go of.”
“So you want something serious with her?”
“Yes.”
“Why call it quits now? After everything you’ve gone through, why give up?”
“Because she’s going to leave me,” He ran a hand through his silver hair, holding back a tear that was heard through the slight crack in his voice.
“She told you she doesn’t want to be together anymore?” Percy asked, wondering if what his girlfriends told him about you was true or not. He remembered hearing how you liked Kakashi too, but was afraid of ridicule, yet still craved his love beneath it all.
“She wants to fight in a possible deadly battle. I cant disclose much but that’s all I can say.”
“But she’s strong isn’t she? Plus she’s a medic, so wouldn’t she be able to heal herself if anything happened?” Percy asked, unsure about the severity of this “battle”.
“You don’t get it,” Kakashi sighed, leaning his forehead against Percy’s back. “I can keep her through affection and intimacy, that’s one thing we both know we have for each other, it’s apparent. But I can’t keep her from getting herself killed. Death is around every corner for people like me and her.”
“Shinobi, you mean?”
“Exactly. I don’t want to be in love with someone and yearn for them every second we aren’t together just for them to leave and die. It’s not fair to torture myself like that. I’d rather call it quits early before I’m doomed to live a life of suffering. I couldn’t deal with it.”
“Kakashi, you already are.” Percy didn’t care to tiptoe around the fact, he was tired of all the beating around the bush. Kakashi sat there a moment, his head still resting against his friends back.
He closed his eyes, occasionally catching himself to hold onto the bike better as they jostled over small rocks and bumps along their path. Kakashi didn’t have much to say about that, but it did prompt a lot of thinking, not that he could do much with Percy being such a chatterbox.
“You need to hear me out with this, okay? Love is like a sandwich-“
“Good gods, spare me the metaphors…”
“I’m going somewhere with this trust me!!” Percy yelled defensively, his volume mostly washed out by the breeze blowing by. “You can have all the amazing fillings you want: intimacy, shared experiences, passion, romance, all that is great but without the bread that keeps it together it’s just a bunch of things slopped together. What makes a sandwich a sandwich is the bread that keeps it together- a solid foundation, trust. And sure, it’s going to be messy at times, but that just comes with that delicious journey we all sign up for.”
“Is there a point to this analogy?”
“Obviously, dumbass. You have all the makings for a great relationship except for the bread… the trust. The bread you’ve got is thin- real thin. Meaning it’s not able to keep all that great stuff inside. The only way that meals gonna end is with everything falling out. Do you know why your bread is thin?” Percy asked, dodging a large rock in the middle of the path.
“Because of my insecurities…” Kakashi admitted, his face heating up.
“Bingo.”
He sat with this realization, mostly because he was metaphorically eaten up alive by one of his best friends. That aside, he looked at the bigger picture. Was he really that insecure about his trust in you? He knew you were strong, but was he actually just insecure you would rather die than be with him?! Was he really that codependent on you? That wasn’t possible, not with war being such a great threat. Percy didn’t know that though, so that’s another thing to factor in. Regardless, there still was valid food for thought presented to him.
“Well how far away are we now?” Kakashi asked, looking around at the new environment.
“Wont take longer than a few minutes, bud. Relax, we’ll be there in no time.”
___________________
Percy was right of course, only a few minutes later and the two were parked outside the large wooden gates. Sounds of children’s laughter and music could be heard just beyond, as well as the smell of amazing food clouding their senses. Kakashi and Percy walked in, delighted by all the new sights and sounds, it seemed like a festival was taking place, although they had zero clue what it was for.
While it did seem magical at first glance, Kakashi knew the truth behind this villages facade. When he truly looked around beyond the vibrant colors and fun attractions, he saw very sick people lurking around the streets, some even begging for spare money. He sighed to himself, judging all the men who walked by with their expensive robes who were laughing at the sick and elderly.
“Kakashi! Over here!” Percy called to him from beyond the crowd.
Kakashi looked over to where his friend was and saw a small shop next to some sort of brothel-esque building. He tilted his head in curiosity at him, raising both arms in a shrugging position.
“No- come over here! This is the place I came here for!” Percy called louder, holding open the shops door to signal he was about to enter.
Kakashi jogged over there, still overwhelmed by all the excitement going around. When he caught up with Percy, he suddenly felt something very familiar. It was that calmness in his soul he had described to Percy earlier. He spun around, trying to see what it was and if he could follow it.
“Something the matter?” Percy asked, shutting the door.
Kakashi turned his head and saw a small staircase on the outside of the establishment that led to a second story door. He furrowed his brow looking at the door, feeling a strange calling towards whatever was just beyond it.
“No… I guess it’s nothing.” He said, turning towards Percy as he opened the door and walked inside.
It was a small restaurant, a few tables here and there as well as a large island that a middle aged man stood at.
“Hi, welcome in fellas! Take a seat anywhere you want, I’ll get you both a few menus to look at!” He said cheerily, ducking behind the island to grab two menus.
Percy sat at the island in front of the man, Kakashi followed and took the seat next to him. The older man gave them their menus and went in the back to give them some time.
“Are you hungry at all?” Percy asked, skimming the drinks side.
“I could eat,” Kakahi responded, suddenly craving a sandwich more than anything.
There were quite a few options to choose from. Some vegan options, some vegetarian, and some sort of dessert types with various different fruits, custards, and cream fillings. Kakashi was in the mood for something more traditional and hearty, deciding he would ask for a grilled chicken sandwich.
The man reappeared with a small notepad and pen, leaning against the countertop.
“You two ready to order?” He asked, looking at Kakashi first.
“Yeah, may I please have the grilled chicken sandwich?” He asked, pointing to the menu. The man wrote it down and then asked for Percy’s order.
“I’ll have this breakfast sandwich,” Percy said.
“A little late don’t you think?” The man laughed, taking both menus.
“Well you know… breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Why not have it anytime of day?” Percy laughed. The man furrowed a brow and Percy grimaced, embarrassed by his joke falling flat.
Kakashi couldn’t help but feel that comforting aura getting stronger around him. He looked around, maybe it was the environment? Just then it became much stronger, as if all this muscles had relaxed in just that moment. It felt less like an aura and more like a chakra. He quickly looked behind the man and towards the curtains that led to the back. What he saw he couldn’t believe.
You emerged from beyond the curtains, holding two cups of water in your hands. When you looked up you immediately locked eyes with him. You must’ve felt the same muscle relaxation as Kakashi, you suddenly dropped both cups catching the eyes of the room.
“Kakashi…?”
_________________________________
You had arrived to this hometown of yours not too long after you left Konoha. You watched as children ran around happily through the village with their prizes from games going on throughout the streets. You sighed, walking down the paths of the place you once called home, knowing the happiest of people were just tourists in this living hell your family and community was trapped in.
You approached your families restaurant, smiling at the nostalgic feeling it filled you with. You grabbed the handle and walked in, your father standing just behind the island. He called you name excitedly, rushing over to you to hold you in a tight hug.
“You’ve come home! What are you doing here? You didn’t get kicked out, did you?” He teased, letting you go to get a good look at you. You nervously laughed.
“No, it’s not that.” You said, rubbing the back of your neck.
“Well whatever the reason is, it’s nice seeing you again.”
“Um… can I talk to you upstairs for a moment? There’s something I need to tell you… it has to do with me being here actually.”
He nodded and held the curtain for you to walk through. Beyond the kitchen in the back was a small door that led to a staircase, that staircase led to the small flat you and your family grew up in. When you both had settled down in the living room, you had assumed your mother would be there, however she was not. Puzzled, you two sat on a nearby couch and you faced him to ask.
“Did mom go out somewhere? I mean… I didn’t see her in the restaurant or kitchen and it’s a little late to still be in bed…” Your fathers face fell, looking at the carpeting.
“Your mother is uh… well there’s no easy way to say this. Your mothers in the hospital.” You felt your heart drop.
“What’s wrong with her? Why didn’t you send a message?! I could’ve come home to help her- what’s going on dad?!” you asked, voice shaking.
He sighed deeply, rubbing his temples with one hand anxiously.
“We aren’t sure what was wrong with her but… we knew that with the big move and that new job of yours you’d have some real stress. We couldn’t put that on you, so we made the decision to send her to a nearby hospital to get her checked out.”
“Fuck…” you sighed, holding your head in your hands. “You need to take me to her, I can heal her… or fix her or… something- anything! Gods dad, what the hell?! Why wouldn’t you tell me?”
“Sweetie it’s fine, your mothers going to be okay-“
“Dad that’s a lot of money! For crying out loud, how are you going to afford the hospital bills?”
“We’ll be fine! as long as you’re okay we’ll be just fine.”
“Here, let me see if I have any extra money on me,” you reached into your pockets for your wallet. Your father quickly nudged your arm away.
“Please don’t, you have enough on your plate already. Why don’t you tell me what you needed to say earlier, okay?” He asked, putting on a small smile.
You frowned.
“Well, since we’re getting everything out in the open…” You took in a deep breath, letting it out with a shaky breath. “I’m going to war.”
You felt your heart shatter the way you watched your fathers face drop again. It was as if he was being told his only child was about to be killed right in front of him.
“Dad, I know how it’s sounds but I don’t have any other choice. There are people who need me, I signed up for this- this is my job.“
“I understand.” He said softly. You frowned, pulling him into a hug.
“I wanted to see you and mom one last time before I left… I know it’s a worst case scenario but… if anything were to happen, I wanted to tell you both goodbye.” You heard your father sob in your ear, holding you tightly. You couldn’t help yourself from crying either and wept with him on the sofa.
“I know you’re strong, and I know you’re valuable, but I’m still so worried,” he sputtered, you patted his back to comfort him but it did next to nothing.
“I know, but I promise you I’m not going down without a fight. I swear to you and mom I’m not going to let myself be weak.” You said sternly, almost as if you weren’t choking back a rivers worth of tears.
After a few more minutes and you and your father had calmed down, you sat there and discussed the situation of war. What it meant for you and your family. You said that with the money you had, it’ll all go to them if you died and they’d be able to move far away, to a better village and have a good financial place for themselves. Your father wasn’t pleased to hear about this and almost cried again. To get his mind off of it, you told him about your job and all the people you met at Konoha.
“Machi and Gale, huh? They sound quite nice! You even have your own students, sounds like you’ve adapted pretty well,” you dad smiled, tears drying on his cheeks.
“I have,” you smiled back, a blush forming in your face when you remembered Kakashi was one of the first you grew close with, even if it started out so riske.
“What’s that look for, hmm?” Your father asked, teasing you for the small blush across your face.
“It’s nothing,” you replied, putting a hand to your cheek and feeling the warmth on your skin.
“Don’t lie to me, I know that look pretty well. You must’ve met someone who isn’t just a friend or a student to you, so tell me!” He laughed, playfully swatting you on your arm.
“I mean, yeah there is someone,” you smirk, shortly after your face fell.
“Um… is everything alright?”
“Yeah, It’s just… things are complicated right now.”
“Oh,” you father said sadly, crossing his arms.
“But he’s a really great guy!” you perked up.
“He?” Your father asked. You nodded. “Does he have a name?”
“He might.”
“He might? What might it be?”
“It might be Kakashi.” Just the your fathers arms uncrossed, his eyes widening.
“As in Kakashi Hatake?”
“Oh great,” you sighed, hating this conversation immediately. “Yeah, why?”
“Because that’s the famous copy ninja! I’ve got to say I’m impressed.” You groaned, holding your knees to your chest now.
“Please stop embarrassing me.”
“I’m not trying to, I’m just suprised that a man like that can be in a relationship with you.” Immediately you grew defensive.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Your brows furrowed.
“Woah, I didnt mean it like that! It’s just… he’s known for being such a hardened shinobi. Who knew there was a heart beneath the mask?” He nervously laughed.
“I knew.” You added. Your father frowned, nervously fidgeting in his seat.
“I’m sorry, " you sighed. "I didn’t mean to be so snappy. It’s just that we’ve spent a lot of time together and he means a lot to me. I’ve seen a lot of his sides and even though he drives me crazy I can’t help but love him regardless. He makes me feel seen, and appreciated. No matter how bitchy I am he keeps trying, nobody else has ever been this patient with me. And what makes things even crazier, is that I feel so drawn to him. It’s like my whole life has led up to the moment we’d meet. Oh, what am I saying? This is starting to get weird, I’ll stop while I’m ahead,” your face felt extremely hot, you avoiding looking at your dad.
“No it’s fine, I get it.” He said, patting you on the back.
“Yeah, thanks.” Silence.
“So what makes things so complicated?”
“‘What isn’t complicated’ is a better question,” although you knew that answer was something entirely too inappropriate to say.
“It’s that bad?”
“Yes and no. It’s a long story, I couldn’t get into it.”
“Well whatever the case may be, you sound like you really love him. In fact, I caught onto you saying that,” he smirked.
“Please stop.”
“Fine.” he raised his hands defensively, then stood up from his seat at the couch. “Now we can sit here moping all day or we can spend time together like we used to. What do you say?”
“Moping sounds good but we can’t afford that right now so let’s work the restaurant like we used to.” You smiled, following him down that stairs.
___________________
“Kakashi…?”
So that’s what it was, it was you all along. He should have known better. Kakashi stood up, uttering your name back to you. You weren’t sure what to do. Truth be told you didn’t forgive him for putting you out on the spot like that, but you also knew there was no real reason for him to forgive you either.
“I’m sorry but would you excuse us for a minute?” Kakashi asked Percy as he motioned to speak to you outside.
“No.” Percy said, fidgeting with his napkin. Your father shot you a concerned look, finally putting two and two together. You patted him on the back reassuringly.
“It shouldn’t take long, we’ll just have a chat upstairs.” You reached into your pocket for a set of keys, walking out the front door of the establishment, Kakashi on your tail.
You two walked out in silence and he followed you up the outside stairs, staying quiet as you unlocked the door and stepped inside. He looked around and it appeared to be your old bedroom, posters and ribbons hanging on the walls. It felt homey to him, more so when he noticed preserved flowers laying on your desk, jasmine to be exact.
“So did you follow me here or did you-“ he cut you off with his lips against yours. Your eyes grew wide in shock. But the moment he put his hand on the small of your back you felt entirely different. Your eyes closed softly and your hands tangled in his hair. You felt a familiar fire burn in your chest, your heart fluttering as his beat in tandem with yours.
“Kakashi,” you sighed, his grip on you becoming tighter. He pushed you against the door, keeping his grasp on you impossibly firm. “Now’s not a good-“
“Stop talking, damnit.” he huffed, his breath hot against your skin. Immediately you shut your mouth, only opening it again to allow his tongue to brush up against yours.
You locked the door while you were still up against it, then resumed pulling on his hair. You also pushed your body against his firm chest, feeling your loins flutter as his breathing became heavier and his kisses more desperate. Kakashis tongue prodded into your mouth, caressing your own as if it lost it, rejoicing in the feeling of finding it again. His body language spoke the same dialect, his arms tense while they wrapped around you, legs locked in place as they cornered you against the wooden door.
You grabbed onto his vest, yanking it off of him and it was only for a moment when his arms left your body. His vest sliding off of him and landing on the floor, he swiftly kicked it away and then resumed his primal grip against your body. He pulled you into him, a breath of air escaping your lungs the moment he ripped your body off the floor. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, head falling to your shoulder while his teeth sunk into your neck, you let out a small grunt from the pain that you couldn’t welcome enough.
“Kashi?” you whispered heavily. He cut you off with another sloppy kiss, the rough smack of his lips against yours had you digging your nails into his back through his body con long sleeve. “What are you doing-“ another kiss “here?”
“What does it look like?” He huffed, hands sneaking past your shirt as he caressed your back with his long fingers. Your breath hitched at the feeling of him touching your bare skin, hair on the back of your neck raising while the tickling sensation of his calloused fingertips roamed your skin.
“I know what you’re doing, but why?”
“I needed you,” he rasped, fingers digging into your skin, his own nails now dragging down your skin. You shuddered in his grasp, thighs clamping down tight around his abdomen. “Must I need any other reason?”
“No…” you knew this was rhetorical, but the gratification you gained from answering him regardless heightened your arousal, giving into him just like you always did. “Needed me for what?” you asked, your chest rising and falling as you struggled to gain your composure.
“I just needed to see you,” Kakashi muttered licking the slight teeth marks that curved along your neck. “I missed this… the way things were before. Y’know I thought about inviting you over the other night?”
“To your apartment?” You were suddenly curious. He nodded, his hands now rubbing down your back, causing you to shiver once again. “What would we do?”
“I don’t even know. I was just so empty without you, even you being in my presence would be enough for me. However, I’m sure we’d find ways to entertain ourselves,” He leaned in closely to your ear “Wanna know how exactly?”
When he said this he thrusted himself into you, his hard package pressing right up against your clothed cunt. You moaned, grinding down on the new stimulation the moment you could, completely void of embarrassment or shame.
“Y-yeah,” your heart was practically in your throat now, however you felt the heartbeats much, much lower.
“Well, I had something in mind,” he hummed, his hands now on your asscheeks, gripping them harshly.
“Ngh- Like what?”
“I was thinking about how bad you’ve been lately,” his breath was almost burning the skin of your neck, you wanted him to so badly rip your clothes off of you and take you to bed. His hair smelled so good, you kept digging your fingers inside of the fluffy mass, gently pulling at it while it tangled between your fingers. He grunted slightly.
“Just like how you are right now,” it came out a purr, vibrations coming up from deep inside his chest. “You’ve been a bad girl. Sometimes I can barely recognize you.”
You didn’t know why you felt so ashamed about his words, a wave of regret crashing hard against you.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, unsure why the apology came so easy.
“So you admit you’ve been a bad girl?” he asked with amusement in his tone, his voice hoarse as he spoke deep into your neck.
“I’m as bad as they come,” you admitted, legs wrapping around even tighter. He chuckles softly.
“Oh? Well then I think we both know what that means,” his cock twitched underneath his pants, you had to sink your nails into your palms to avoid getting handsy. “I think you need to be punished severely.”
The hair on the back of your neck stood up, goosebumps rising on your skin immediately. He carried you over to your bed, tossing you down on it. You crashed against it, a loud squeak echoing through the room. You blushed, hoping to whatever god there was that nobody downstairs could hear.
“What are you going to do with me?” You asked, your hands rubbing where he bit you on your neck.
“You want to know your punishment?” An amused smile spread across his face. You nodded. “Well that’s for me to know and you to find out.”
You felt frustrated, already wanting him to lash out on you, it felt like torture the way he stood over you, patently keeping his hands to himself.
“Please?” you whispered, one of your hands moving south of your body, he watched as your sunk your hands under your waistband, eyes blowing wide when your mouth fell open.
He grabbed your wrist and yanked it back out, pinning it down and above your head.
“I think you need another spanking.” You bit your lip, trying to hide your excitement, your panties already wet when he increased the pressure of his hand.
He sat down next to you, letting go of your wrist and instead using his hand to grab your hair into a tight pony tail, causing you to sit up.
“Should I bend over your lap?” it came out as a mewl, your desperation evident on your face.
“How funny that you just want to jump straight into it,” he smiled in your face, shiny teeth gleaming back at your from beyond his perfect lips. “Sweet girl, maybe you do know how to behave,” he kissed you softly, then had you bend over his lap.
With one hand still firm in your hair, the other pulled down your pants, your panties coming down with it. You clenched around nothing as the cool air hit your wet cunt, a shiver was sent up your back.
“Such a slut, excited for her spanking.” He caressed your soft globes, you hummed excitedly, almost moaning at the delicate touch. “If I hadn’t done this previously I would’ve assumed you didn’t know what this was. Is that true? Are you a stupid girl who doesn’t know what a spanking is?” he cooed, his hand grabbing you hip harshly, fingers digging into your skin.
You grunted, knowing with this much pressure he would leave bruises along you skin for days, weeks even.
“It’s not pleasant, at least not the way I do it, remember? It’s gonna hurt, way more than a few soft taps.”
“I’m hoping for it,” you replied back, surprised by your own response and enthusiasm.
“Oh yeah?” he also seemed surprised, pleasantly surprised. A wicked smile was plastered on his face, searching your eyes with his own. “How long have you been wanting this for? I mean, you’re so obedient. I cant help but assume you’ve fantasized about this ever since last time,” his grip of your hair tightened, you smiled up at him devilishly.
“I’ve been wanting this since I last saw you.”
“Good answer,” he smirked. “Are you ready?”
You nodded quickly, arching your back as the tension builds up in your body.
“An even better answer." his fingertips glided againsty the curve of your back. "I don’t care if you scream or cry, in fact it would make this more enjoyable,” he hummed, pulling on your hair. “Now sit still.”
Kakashis hand came down hard on your backside, a loud slap echoed in your ears. You let out a depraved moan, biting your lip as the stinging starting to settle on your asscheek. He took a moment to take in the look on your face, ogling the flush of color across your cheeks. Quicker, and much harder this time, he struck you again with his ever-so-firm hand.
You whined, squirming in his lap until he spanked you again. After his next, you dug your nails into the mattress beneath you, huffing deep breaths in and out. Kakashi laughs softly, watching your soft ass turn a bright pink as he punished you.
“How many can you handle? You want me to get creative?” he asked happily, softly rubbing circles on your abused skin.
“Y-yesss…” your voice was trembling.
“If you say so. But it makes me wonder… how much pain can this pretty little ass take?”
“I deserve it, we both know I’ve been bad,” you mutter, nails coming out of the mattress as you slowly began to get less tense with each rub of Kakashis hand.
“Yes you have,” Kakashi exclaimed amused. “Do you know how bad? Answer me.” He smacked you again, and all you could muster was a string of whimpers and groans, no real words coming to your mind.
“Answer me properly. I don’t want to hear your little moans. I want a real answer. Tell me what you’ve done.”
“I… I’ve kept you a secret…” you whispered, your hand stroking his knee. “And the worst part is I’ve been fantasizing about you this whole time.”
“Interesting. For how long, give me a number.” He pulls your hair, tilting your face upwards so your eyes are locked.
“8 weeks,” you confess, looking away to avoid his strong gaze.
“8 weeks? How filthy have you been? What’s the most inappropriate thing you’ve fantasized about me doing?” He pulled your hair tighter, forcing you to look back at him.
“I’ve thought about you defiling me.” Kakashi raised an eyebrow.
“That’s all? I’m not going to lie, I expected more from you.” His hand move from your ass to your hip, once again squeezing it tightly. You winced.
“I-I’ve thought about you waking me up just so you can use me to get yourself off,” you blurted out. Kakashi perked up, much more interested.
“Anything else? You’ve had 8 weeks,” clearly he was having fun toying with you. It felt like torture dumping your fantasies onto him, but you couldn’t help spilling your guts.
“I’ve thought about pleasuring you.”
“Go on.” His grip became looser, yet still firm.
“I’d use my mouth.” He smirked.
“Is that all?” You wanted to melt into his lap, escape his massive presence.
“And my hands…”
“Well, don’t you have a plethora of talents,” he teased, bringing his hand back and quickly down his to your ass. You flinched, but before he could make contact he stopped himself, laughing softly. Your face burned hot.
“Anything else? I mean, 8 whole weeks is a looong time,” he raised his eyebrow again, looking directly in your eyes.
“Well…”
“Spit it out, don’t be a tease. I know you can say more.” His words made your skin tingle.
“I’ve thought about how mad you were at me, ignoring me all the time at the office. So I thought about trying to rile you up, get you even angrier. Just so maybe you’d snap and use me without holding back.” He loosened his grip on you.
“You really want that? For me to take my frustration out on you?”
“Yes.” You gripped his knee tighter.
“You really are a bad girl, aren’t you?” He smirked, grip getting firmer in your hair again.
“I am.”
“Do you have no shame? Ass in the air, panties off, pussy soaking wet, and looking me in my eye while you tell me about all the filth you’ve imagined about me. Sweet girl, you’re more perverted than I thought.” He pulled your hair back further, his mouth connected with your more a quick kiss.
“I bet you’ll say anything at this point if it’ll make me happy, huh? You’ve completely given yourself to me, isn’t that right?” With lidded eyes you nodded looking up at him.
“Are you mine to use?” Amused curiousity lingering in his voice.
“Yes.” Right after you confirmed this, another rough smack was right up against your ass. You yelped, once again digging your finger into the mattress.
“You like that, don’t you? You like getting hit by me.” You nod. Another rough smack. “Say it.” he practically barked.
“I- I like it! I like getting hit by you!” You wanted to curl up in embarrassment, once again hoping nobody could hear you. Kakashi had a wicked look on his face.
“I wonder how many times can I hit this ass of yours before you cry? Are you a tough girl?” He asked condescendingly.
“Yes…” He hit you harder, producing a loud moan out of you. He laughed.
“Are you tough or what? You seem to be enjoying this more than I expected,” this time he struck you lower, so that his palm was right up against the back of your thigh. You desperately squirm again, breathing shakily. He hits you there again, smiling to himself.
“Oh? Am I hitting a sensitive spot?” You almost shrieked when he smacked it again. “So I did find a sensitive spot,” he leaned down closely so that that he was almost in your ear.
“I’m going to keep smacking you, riiight here until your crying and begging me to stop.” And that’s what he did. Over and over again, watching as you rubbed your legs together, slick coating the feverish in-between of your legs.
“How many more spanks can you get before you cry? 10? 20? I know you can take it,” he kept spanking you, each one lighting you up until your ass was red. As he spanked you, he enjoyed watching your eyes roll back, your whimpers echo softly in your room, and your body spasm after each moment of contact.
“You must nearly be at the edge, huh?” Your eyes rolled back to normal, welling with tears. “Awww, is that it? Is that all you can take?”
He delivered the final blow, you moaned loudly, tears flowing down your cheeks. You felt lightheaded, pain and pleasure circulating inside of you. The erotic sensation making it's way up your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up.
“Aww… did I do that? Did I make the tough, pretty girl cry?” You nod, unable to verbalize a single thought. “Such a good girl, taking it like a champ. I have to say, I admire how well you kept your composure… well at least most of it.”
He pulled your hair back, your head coming closer to him and he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. You shut your eyes and bit your lip, your heart melting at his sudden tender affection.
While still having a good grasp of your pony tail, Kakashi slung you over to the side, trapping you against him and the bed. He had you pinned, your wrists above your head. When he towered his large form over you his lips brushed against yours, his scent was everywhere. You closed your eyes again, and felt how his eyelashes fluttered against your cheek as he bent down lower and licked up your neck.
You smirked, a sudden tickle causing you to slightly spasm, Kakashi laughed softly when he saw it. He instead turned to biting you, the feeling of his teeth in your neck filled you with the most euphoric nostalgia. You sighed, legs bending so your knees could squeeze his waist. He rutted his hips into your core, and you shuddered as the wet juices pooled in your cunt and trickled down your legs.
Kakashi looked up at you, lips curled into a cocky smile, pressing softly against your own. You parted your lips, his soft tongue dragging along your plump lip, before his teeth gently trapped it and he bit into it possessively. You never started the day thinking he'd be showing up at your old home, about to fuck you senseless into the mattress you've spent countless nights on. It seemed to you like Kakashi's fate was to always appear, and so was your passionate desire for him.
Kakashi's kiss could make your loins ache like a wildfire, yet it could also make your breaths slow and your heart melt. Maybe it was fate?
I am safe here. His arms are open, his tongue is tender, and I don't need to struggle anymore.
Its all you could think about, really.
Two fingers circled your drenched clit, Kakashi watched your hole clench around nothing. He licked his lips watching your pretty cunt swallow his didgets shortly after, curling up as he pumped in and out.
“She’s so pretty…” he hummed, his knuckles now shiny with your arousal.
Your toes curled the more he pumped you, his fingers working fast. You roughly grabbed his wrist, stopping his movement. He looked up at you, a single brow cocked.
“Something wrong?” his voice was smooth, eyes soft as they watched you with adoration.
“T-that’s not what I need…” You murmured, breathing in and out as if you’d pass out.
“Tell me, what do you-“
“Cock. Yours.” You demanded. Kakashis eyes grew wide, a sinister grin plastered in his face. He retracted his fingers from your cunt, a silent moan escaped your lips when he moved.
“I never thought I’d have you so needy, sweet girl.” Kakashis hand traveled to his waistbands and pulled them down, hard cock slapped against his body con shirt, precum making his tip glisten.
“I can’t help it.” You admitted, your eyes breaking away from his to stare at his erection. Your legs spread wide, and you wriggled excitedly.
Kakashi ducked down to kiss you, cupping your cheeks as he rutted against you, his length rubbing up and down against your clit. You moaned into the kiss, a smile on your face as your pleasure spread. You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, getting even closer as you two enjoyed eachothers embrace.
Kakashis tongue made its appearance in your mouth again, the soft tip of his tongue swirling with yours, just to retreat and wetten your lower lip.
“Don’t tease me…” you whispered, breaking the kiss only to resume it quickly. He laughed gently, his hand moving south to grab the base of his cock and align it with your entrance.
“Well, aren’t you one to talk?” With one swift motion he went balls deep inside of you again, a shiver running up his back as he bottomed out, his public bone flush with your clit.
You both grunted, then began to lock lips as his hips drilled into you. You both knew you didn’t want to waste any time, each time he bottomed out you grounded down on him further, feeling his warm precum coat your walls as your own arousal spilled out and onto the sheets.
“Always wet for me…” he smiled, kissing down your jaw.
His cock was heavy, stretching you perfectly and throbbing each time it hit that tender spot inside of you that made you digs crescents into his back with your nails. He loved watching your lashes flutter when your eyes rolled back, and he devoured your lips whenever they opened to produce a guttural moan.
“I love you…” Kakashi cooed, a finger of his now playing with your clit.
“Love you- haaah- too…” you replied with a whine between words.
Kakashi pulls your shirt off of you, then quickly grabs both your wrists in one hand. He pins you down, and you’re unable to move. He retracts his hand from your clit and presses his forearm under your tits, pushing them up and drooling at how pretty they sit. He ducks down and sucks a nipple, his soft tongue spreading hot spit over your sensitive tits. He moans, cock throbbing as you pulse around him.
He looks up at you, your face red and forehead slightly sweaty. Fuck, you look so sexy. He groans your name, biting your tit, sucking a hickey into the soft flesh in his mouth. You’re seeing stars, vision blurry as your orgasm comes washing over you. You’re whimpering his name, shaking and yet unable to move under his massive presence. He lets go of your tit in his mouth and watched over you. You were his own personal porn star, cumming for him- cumming on him. Whimpering his name as you choke his girthy cock and take him while he resizes your cunt.
“Filthy… you’re making such a mess.” His pace was quicker now, your cries of pleasure louder as he beats your pussy into the mattress. “Bad girl…” he hums low, almost a growl.
You can’t fight back the violent euphoria, your poor cunt wants more of him, regardless as to whether or not you can take it.
“S’ good…” you mewl, erotic and soft squelches filling your ears as he continues to stuff you with his member, his own orgasm on its precipice.
“You really are a slut of this cock, huh?” he teased, thrusting hard, keeping his dick stuffed deep inside you as he pressed his pelvis against your clit. His nails dig into your wrists, your fingers try to grab onto him but you just can’t reach.
“No more playing games,” he grunts, a hand letting go of your wrists to wrap around your throat firmly. You gasp, your air running thin. “You want me?” His hips retreat, then slam harsh inside of you. You wince, eyes snapping shut when you moan.
“Tsk tsk, look at me.” you follow his order, your brows knitted tightly together, looking up at him through your lashes. His teeth glimmer as he grins mischievously, his grip on your neck tightening. “Nah, you need me.”
You feel like you’re about to pass out again, legs shaking viciously and you felt light headed.
“My body always misses this pussy… fucking made for me.” He nips at your jaw, railing you at the one pace he knows you and he both like it. “Mine.”
He wants to mark you up, leave you purple for everyone to see. So when he notices how hard it is for you to breathe he lets go, and takes delight in how you choke for air. He sucks deeply at your neck, throbbing inside you when he imagines how it’ll look after.
“M’gonna cum again…” you almost plead, hips tilting up to meet his own, welcoming his gorgeous cock back inside of you where you knew it belonged.
“I bet you want me to cum inside you,” he mutters, letting go on your sensitive skin before he sucks another purple bruise into your neck.
“Please.” Is all you manage, your slick now running down your ass.
“Always a slut for my cum…” He bites your shoulder, his tongue licking at the red skin underneath. “Can’t fuck you once without you begging for a creampie.”
You cum for a second time, begging for his hot cum to fill you up and pour out. Kakashi complies, a few more rough thrusts and he’s pumping you full of his burning seed, you feel impossibly full as you throw your head back. Kakashi moans heavily, still pumping you with his cock, loving the way you squirt on him with your own spend.
“You can play with yourself thinking about this tonight,” he says low, kissing you hard while he continues to shoot ropes into you. You twitch, legs spasming as your orgasm refuses to subside.
“N-no. I wanna be with you tonight! I wanna do it again!” You beg, wrapping your legs even tighter around him. His eyes widen and he licks your neck playfully.
“My sweet girl, if I bring you home with me tonight I won’t stop until the sun comes up.”
“I’m prepared to lose a few hours of sleep if it means I can spend them being your whore.” You respond shamelessly. He lets go of your wrist and you grab the back of his head, fully making out with him as you play with his silver mess. “I love you. I don’t care anymore.”
Kakashi hums in delight, pulling out of you, your shared cum sticking to his own thighs now.
“You mean you’re all mine?” He knew the answer.
“Mmhmm… And I’m sorry about the way I was acting before…” You admitted, hands running in his hair.
Kakashi rested his face against your tits, his arms wrapped around your waist.
“What do you mean? I should be sorry. I shouldn’t have been such a scummy person to make you choose me or your career, especially when I knew how much you love it.” His voice was soft and somber, you kissed the crown on his head.
“We both messed up, yeah?” You slightly giggled.
“Yeah,” he laughed back. “If you’re sure about going into this war with me I want you to know something.” He picked his head up, towering over you again. His palm rested against your cheek as his eyes looked deep into yours.
“I don’t care who we’re facing or what we’re up against. I don’t care who’s getting hurt but I do know one thing,” His brows furrowed. “I’m not leaving your side once. I’ll cover you, I’ll fight for you, I swear I’ll kill for you- I already have and I will again if I have to.”
He softly kissed the tip of your nose.
“That goes for me too,” you sighed, one of your hands caressed his shoulder. He grabbed that hand and kissed the back of it, then pulled you off the bed.
You two got dressed, although you chose to change into a turtle neck, and went downstairs. The restaurant was more packed and there was chatter all around, the nerves you may have been heard upstairs disappearing completely.
Percy turned around when Kakashi approached the seat next to him and reclaimed his seat. You walked around the counter and began to wipe it down. Your father came out from behind the curtain that led to the kitchen.
“Here’s that sandwich,” Your dad said, handing your boyfriend the plated food. “Enjoy, son.”
“Son?” Kakashi asked, taking a look around to see if people were watching him. When the coast was clear he quickly lowered his mask for a bite, then put it back on.
Nobody could see the smile underneath he had while he chewed, but you noticed the crinkle underneath his eyes.
“Not bad,” Percy said, polishing off his meal. “What’d you think, Kakashi?”
“Yeah,” he looked up from his plate, watching as you walked around the restaurant, taking orders and handing out drinks. “It was good.” It tasted like home.
A/N: after a much needed break/hiatus i’m finally back RAAAAHHHHH !!!!!!! for everyone asking if i plan on continuing the mafia AU yes i do but i feel like it’ll be a small mini series.
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autumnmobile12 · 29 days
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The League of Morons vs A Summer Camp
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All right, so I love the hell out of this nonsense and I want to talk about the Vanguard's plan and how ridiculous it was.
First, most of the crew showed up a night early and…well, then what?  That first night, Dabi says they’re still waiting on a few more people to arrive.  Okay, so what are you all doing here already?
Did Kurogiri warp them back to the bar after they’d gotten a look at the place?  Scouted the area a bit?  You needed seven people for that? Were they that bored waiting for Twice, Compress, and the Nomu to show up?  What were they doing in the 24 hours between this part and the actual attack?  Standing on that cliff and muttering,  “Heroes…”?
Was Toga all, "Guys, I'm tired. Can we go back to the bar already?"
Spinner: "No, as villain protocol dictates, we must stand here menacingly for a minimum of twelve hours."
Dabi: Fuck you, I'm going to bed.
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Except for being a scare tactic, having Dabi start a fire was mostly unnecessary. Their goal was to further weaken society's faith in heroes by targeting UA students, so you'd think he'd be a little more proactive in...well, actually harming someone. As it happened, the fire really only to served to announce there was an attack happening.
But I’ll throw the Vanguard a bone here and say this was Spinner’s doing.  Like their original plan was to start a massive fire that would consume both classes and all the heroes in a singular tragedy, but then Spinner said,  “Hey, pump the breaks, people.  We’re here to uphold Stain’s ideals about toppling the corrupt Hero culture.  Do we really want mass child murder as part of our brand?” Sure, he wanted to go after Iida, but he was a specific target since he was on Stain's hit list.
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The two copies Twice made of Dabi were virtually useless in a fight since Vlad and Aizawa both took him out so quickly it was embarrassing.  And yet he’s apparently a big enough threat that No. 1 and No 2. can’t handle him.  Go fig.
Endeavor/Hawks:  Oh, no, he’s too strong…
Aizawa/Vlad:  Listen here, you little shit!
...
Muscular goes and reveals their plan even though he didn’t have to.  They all saw the Sports Festival, they knew what Bakugo looked like, and yet here he is asking Deku where he he can find Bakugo as if he was going to answer him.  Yes, he didn’t think there was any harm in telling him since his plan was to kill Deku anyway, but alerting UA to the fact they were looking to kidnap someone is still just hubris.
Going after Bakugo in the first place was a dumb idea.  We can probably credit that one to Shigaraki because only he would look at the violently temperamental teenager raging on national television and think,  “Yes, he seems like a reasonable person to negotiate with.”
...
Gonna drop in some actual light criticism here: Given the inequality issues that arise in the series later, targeting the heteromorph students for recruitment purposes would have been a smarter move for the LoV.  They’re all part of a demographic that has a justified reason for being dissatisfied with society, so there would have been a believable chance of the LoV thinking they could sway some people to their side.
But hey, the League of Villains was on a learning curve. Give 'em a break.
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He totally saw Aoyama here.  Or at least he heard him because he clocked that there was something weird about that bush and he was going to go check it out…and then Twice distracted him and Dabi has an total ADHD moment and forgets what he was doing.
And it's not because Aoyama was the spy. Nobody in the Vanguard knew.
1.) Shigaraki says he tried and couldn't figure out where the camp was, but AFO figured it out relatively quickly. So if even his successor doesn't know who the spy was or called on that resource, then why would AFO tell anyone else in the group?
2.) Moonfish, Muscular, and Mustard were all apprehended, but none of them ratted out Aoyama, as someone with nothing left to lose would. Neither did Kurogiri when he was later apprehended, but that one may have been a loyalty matter. So I think this was a case of AFO saying, "I have a source of info and you don't need to know who it is." Because at the end of the day, AFO is an arrogant narcissist who's definitely not placing all his eggs in one basket. Aoyama wouldn't be an easy spy to replace, so of course AFO would want to limit any chances of him being exposed.
So this was Dabi's screw up.
Speaking of forgetting things, Dabi also straight up forgot they had a Nomu because he thanked Twice for reminding him they had a Nomu.
Sir....how the hell do you forget you have a Nomu?
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Toga was supposed to get blood from at least three people.  She failed.
Twice had a simple job. Create clones. He succeeded, but the only two he made were Dabi and I refer you to the previous point on how useless they were.
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Spinner and Magne’s roles were a diversion. Distract the Wild, Wild Pussycats and give everyone else the opening to find and kidnap Bakugo.
They did pretty well. Up until the point they were almost caught and Kurogiri had to bail them out. Also Spinner lugged the giant, over-the-top blade contraption all the way there only for Deku to destroy it.
However, they do deserve some credit for making probably the best strategic decision of the group that night, and that was taking out Pixie Bob. We saw on the first day of the camp that she was able to hold back a class of twenty students with an army of earth creatures she was simultaneously controlling. That would have been a huge problem, so for the purposes of their team, good on them for removing that obstacle.
Underrated squad members right here.
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Mustard was a legitimate threat for same reasons Dabi and his fire was a threat, plus he brought a firearm into the fight. (I want to know what the other villains thought when they saw that.)
But instead of putting him in the center of the fight where he could do some significant harm, they placed him on the outliers and all he did was knock some students unconscious and everybody made a full physical recovery, showcasing the gas he emitted wasn’t all that lethal and didn't cause any long-term complications. (Again, maybe this was Spinner's idea of Stain's ideology on not indiscriminately massacring children. "Guys, I'm telling you! That's fucked up!")
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The Nomu (effectively brain dead without orders) did more damage than any of them, which makes the previous point that Dabi forgot they had it even funnier.
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And finally, Mr. Compress was missing for half the night and then almost came in clutch by fulfilling their main objective plus extra credit, only to nearly blow it with his showboating. Seriously, they could have gotten away with both Bakugo and Tokoyami had they just booked it while the going was good.
But no, Compress had to make a dramatic production of it. When he first snatched the kids, he could have just left and Deku and company would have had no idea what happened. Had he just kept his mouth shut and left, they wouldn't have known he even existed. Then as the Vanguard members were leaving through the warp gates, he goes and does it again, giving Aoyama enough time to fire at them with his navel laser, something that also could have bee avoided had Dabi just checked the fucking bush!
The Vanguard Action Squad won by sheer dumb luck and their collective incompetence actually succeeding is the most hilarious thing about this arc. In the end, three members of their crew were arrested.  (Although I think everyone was secretly relieved they lost Moonfish.  Even if he was on my side, I’d be actively worried that guy would kill and eat me in my sleep.)
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Yet this self-important twerp is smiling like they actually did something to be proud of here.  All Dabi really accomplished personally was grab a marble (coincidentally the correct marble) before Shouto could, which is borderline more standard older sibling behavior than actual villainy. He literally lost two separate fights in one night and called it a win.
This arc was a five episode Scooby-Doo trap going wrong and succeeding.
Seriously, I hope that after the warp gates closed, they all just looked at each other and immediately started calling each other out on everything. Like Dabi slapped Compress upside the head and asked him what he'd been thinking having 'one last bow' before they got away. Spinner yelling at Dabi about how the clones did nothing. And there's Bakugo all, "I can't believe I've been kidnapped by a gaggle of morons."
Fake it till you make it at its finest.
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