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hertzwritings · 2 years

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Bruises and bitemarks

A/N: this is a request from the sweet @impossiblyteenagestudent and I am STOKED, I tell you! Request: Ok I've got a smutty ask, based off something that happened this morning. I got a new boss and I met him today, and I kinda recognized him for some reason... we flirted biiig time on my 21st at a club, and now I'm practically living one of my favorite tropes. But what I'm asking is something along the lines of "we had a one night stand a while ago and you left before I woke up and I really liked you but now I'm your boss but you're wearing That Top I wanna take you on this table in the middle of this meeting"

BABY I GOT YOU!!!

You can buy me a coffee here, and I’ll write you a personalized drabble, one-shot or multichapter fic – the sky is the limit, so go nuts, my loves.

I love y’all so much!

Remember, feedback feeds the soul and my requests – and askbox – are always open – there’s no limits, because I am me and I have none.

MASTERLIST

ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS

Pairing: Boss!Henry Cavill x female reader (Coworkers to lovers AU)

Contains: Language, slight fluff, a dash of secondhand embarrassment, smut (MINORS DNI), fingering, rough-ish sex, p in v, unprotected sex, age gap, sir-kink

W.C.: 2.240

Bruises and bitemarks

You drew a deep, steadying breath as you looked to the office, a few nerves settling – not all, but it was the best you could do. You stood a little straighter, clutched your bag and smoothed your skirt down, before you made your way inside to meet your boss and get the tour.

You had been surprised to hear you got the job – because of the pandemic, it was a phone-interview, and you were sure you had botched it greatly, seeing as you were a stuttering mess through most of it. It didn’t help that your boss had the smoothest, most perfect voice with a British accent to boot.

You had no idea how the office was, how everybody worked and you were only on a probationary period, so you needed to make sure, you made a great first impression. You smiled at one of the first people you met, a slender woman with jet-black hair, who sat at her desk and looked to you with a helpful smile. “I’m so sorry to disturb you.” She waved her hand. “Oh, no issue at all. What can I do for you?” You returned the smile. “I’m looking for Mr. Cavill’s office?” She nodded knowingly and stood, extending her hand to you. “You must be Y/N, the new publicist, right?” “That’s me.” “Great. Follow me, please.” She led you through the desks, smiling and smalltalking with whoever sat there, before she stopped in front of a closed door.

“You had a phone-interview, right?” You nodded. “Oh, girl… Listen, just a warning. The man is sort of intimidating, okay? He’s a giant.” You couldn’t reconcile the soft, smooth voice with a giant man in your head. “I’m telling you, he’s… Yeah.” “I’ll keep it in mind.” “Good.” She grinned widely at you. “I’m Anya, by the way. Welcome to the office!” And with that, she was gone. You gathered yourself for a moment before knocking, and heard the smooth voice call out for you to enter.

She hadn’t been lying.

His back was turned to you, but he was broad, his back and shoulders seemingly endless – his perfectly pressed dress-shirt seemed to strain at the seams across his shoulders and he had a mop of dark brown, slightly curly on top, and he was talking on the phone, his deep voice completely rendering you speechless.

“No, we won’t do that. Why? Because my team deserve more than 5 %. You can let me know what you want to do, but I’d suggest taking our offer, or you’re going to have to outsource, and that, my friend, will cost you dearly.” He hung up and turned around with a smile, that turned to a wondering frown. You understood all too well why, because flashes of images of his thick thigh between your legs, his teeth scraping your neck as he fucked you deeply and his dirty words ran rampant in your mind. The older man by at least 15 years, that you had dreamed of for too many nights, was your boss. Just your damn luck.

Oh no.

“Uh…. Y/N?” He cleared his throat. “Yup.” Your voice was small and you cursed yourself and your libido far away. “Er… Oh, okay. Yeah, hi.” He smiled softly. “Good to see you.” He gestured to the chair in front of you and you sat down with a nervous smile. “Likewise.” Silence fell between you before he cleared his throat and weaved his fingers together – the very fingers, that had brought a very powerful orgasm to you – and he looked at you and swallowed thickly. “So… I, er…” “Same, honestly.” You understood what he was trying to say. “We should… Keep it professional, right?” You nodded. “Very professional.” You’d just ignore the urge to jump his bones. You could do that. He smiled gratefully and stood.

“Let me give you a tour.”

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It had been just around three weeks, and you were about to implode. You didn’t know if it was on purpose or if it was solely because you were hyperaware of him, but you felt like you were constantly running into him – physically – or he’d have an excuse to touch you. It was torture, trying to stay professional, when he had apparently managed to Pavlov you so much, that a single touch from him made you soaking wet.

It didn’t help that the damn AC went out and the heat in the office was sweltering at this point; you had managed to take off as much as you could without sitting naked at your desk, but you were still sweating bullets. You could feel his eyes on you, as he gave a presentation of the next book, you were going to publish (something with a grey-haired man who killed monsters? You weren’t sure, you really didn’t pay attention to anything but his bulging arms in his t-shirt). The sound of the AC clunking back to life sent a cheer of happiness down the row of coworkers, and you exhaled happily. Thank god.

“Alright, everyone, I… You know what, take an early weekend. You have all worked through literal hell this week, so I think you deserve to go out and enjoy yourself a little. We’ll get back to Geralt and his adventures on Monday.” Everybody filed out of the conference-room, but he stopped you. “Y/N…” His eyes were dark as they landed on your chest, and you realized that your white tanktop didn’t exactly hide your pebbled nipples, that had gone out to full effect when cool air hit them. “Oh, I’m sorry…” He growled and cut you off, stalking to the door and locking it before turning back to you.

“Do you have any idea how hard I have to work to contain myself around you?” He stalked to you, and you backed up, your ass hitting the table. His arms caged you, his large hands resting on the table next to your hips. “How badly I want to take you and I wouldn’t give a damn about the consequences? I’ve been fantasizing about taking you and making you mine in front of the entire office, but I’ve managed to reel myself back.” Your breath hitched as his face came closer and closer to yours – you couldn’t see the blue anymore in his eyes. “But then you wear this fucking excuse of a top, and you expect me to keep myself… What, refrained? Collected? Do you have any idea of the effect you have on me, Y/N? How hard it is to keep a professional attitude around you, when all I’ve been thinking about is how it feels to be buried in you?” You squeaked. “Somewhat.” You replied breathily. He closed his eyes and with what seemed to be a great deal of willpower, he pulled himself away from you, crossed his arms and moved several paces away from you.

Your chest was heaving as you stared him down, your panties a mess already – your nipples were still hard and all you wanted was for him to lose his goddamn composure and fuck the living hell out of you. “You need to leave this room.” “You leave.” You retorted. His eyes flashed. “No, Y/N… You need to go.” “Why? Is this not my workspace as well?” He growled again and his fingers flexed. “I need you to go. I don’t know what I’ll do if you stay here.” You thought about it for a moment and grinned wickedly at him.

“How about your worst?”

He lost all semblance of normalcy and composure as soon as the words had left your mouth, and he was cupping your face in a single stride. His lips slotted over yours in desperation and eagerness, the same tension you had felt clearly lingering on his lips. You moaned against him, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. It was breathtaking, desperate and completely wild; his tongue was everywhere, his hands on your ass (how did they get there?) and he pushed you back against the table, letting you sit down on it as he cleared the space with a swipe of his hand, the clattering of pencils, stables and whatever else, falling to the ground filled your ears. He settled between your legs, pushing his body against yours. “You’re fucking dangerous, Y/N…” He mumbled against your lips, fumbling to bunch your skirt up on your hips. You were wild now, your hands clawing at his shirt and pants, pulling the shirt out of the careful tuck and undid his belt. “So are you.” You mumbled back, tugging on his lips with your teeth. He snapped his hips, and you felt the shape of him against your thigh. He chuckled at that and did quick work of your panties, stuffing them in his pocket. You gasped as his thick fingers found your soaking hole. “We have to be fast, you understand?” He whispered, curling his fingers upwards and began pumping. You gasped and moaned, and his other hand fell over your lips with a wicked smile playing on his own. “And quiet.” You nodded desperately and rolled your hips to meet his fingers, desperate for release; he sped up, his fingers gliding effortlessly against a spot, that made you see fucking stars and you tossed your head back. “Are you going to be good and cum for me, darling?” His drawl made you lose your breath. Fuck, he was hotter than you remembered. You nodded. “Be a good girl and cum… When you call me sir.” Your entire body had shivers and he slowly removed his hand from your lips, prompting you to finally whisper as you looked him dead in the eye. “Sir…. Please… Can I cum?” You moaned softly as he sped up. “There’s a good girl.” You took that as acceptance and let go, your body trembling under the orgasm, that flooded every, single cell in your body. If you thought the drunken experience with him had been good, this was leagues above. His fingers worked you magically, like he already knew exactly what you needed, and his lips found your neck, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin as you rode your orgasm out. “I need… Fuck, Sir, I-I need you in me, please, please…” You were doing your best to undo his belt and push his pants down with trembling hands, and when he chuckled lowly, you damn near lost your mind. “Impatient, huh?” He smiled wickedly. “You have no idea.” You captured his lips with yours again and he quickly pushed his pants down to his knees, before sliding it against your folds – you whined at the feeling of his head catching your clit as he coated himself in your slick. “You need to stay quiet, baby.” He teased your entrance and your eyes rolled back. “Can you do that, or do I need to shut you up, darling?” You cocked an eyebrow at him and rolled your hips, a smile spreading on your lips. “I think you just might have to.” He chuckled darkly and kissed you as he entered you, slowly gliding inside of you inch after tantalizing inch, until he bottomed out with a guttural groan against your open mouth. “Fuck, you feel so good on my cock, baby….” “Sir…” You whispered a moan, letting his name tumble from your lips over and over as he began moving in and out of you, his cock dragging against your walls, that fluttered in response.

He began languidly to fuck you and you whimpered. “Please, just… Fuck me.” You whispered. He didn’t waste a second, grabbing a tight hold to your waist, rutting against you and buried himself deeply and swiftly. He dragged himself out again, before he began fucking you with insane speed, his balls slapping your bare ass with every single stroke of his long, throbbing cock inside of you. You came without warning, a strangled cry stuck in your throat as he swallowed every sound you made with his lips. It was fucking heaven, your walls clenching around him as you came, ripples of pleasure warming your entire body, nerve and cell – you would never want any other man than him. His speed stuttered a few times, his grip tightening on you and he made a solid effort to pull out, but you wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck, clinging to him. “No!” You whispered frantically. “Fill me. Please, fill me.” “Darling, I…” “I’m on the pill. Please…” You were wanton and needy – he growled and buried his head in the crook of your neck, his cock slamming deeply inside of you, the head hitting your cervix with every thrust, and he groaned against your skin, biting down hard, and stilled completely. He was twitching inside of you, filling you with his hot cum, the warmth of it pooling in you. You were both panting and gasping, him peppering kisses along your neck and shoulder.

“Fucking hell, Y/N…” You smiled at him and placed a small, soft kiss on him, before jumping off the table. His spend began trickling down your legs and he watched it with feral eyes. “Need these back?” He asked, holding your panties out to you. You cocked your head to the side. “How about you keep them?” You asked cheerily. He cocked an eyebrow at you and slapped your ass as you walked past him, tucking himself back in his pants.

“Do you have dinner plans?” He asked, following you to your desk. “Now I do.”

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wherethesunsails · 4 years

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how were ur meetings ? :0

they were good! the first one was a little long because I did it virtually at home but the guy was really nice and cool and we went through classes I would need to take next and stuff like that and he answered a few of the miscellaneous questions I had

the second meeting I was a Tiny bit late for but it was with my absolute favorite man in the world mr mike yocum because he's the director of the theatre department at my school and very nearly the sole reason I'm minoring in theatre there when I found out he was my second academic advisor I was So happy he is going to be a solid source of serotonin lmao

#he also mentioned that ill have a chance to take a class with one of my idols from the wagon wheel ms kira lace hawkins i fucking Love her #im Stoked for my minor requirements #anyway after my meetings i went to open at work by myself for the first time ever #i was expecting it to be Not Good but god.....#it was so bad #we got truck order today and josh was supposed to be there just to help with truck but he stayed until like 4 🥺#he was so nice today if he hadnt been there i would have quit i wish i was kidding #for reference #we have like nine italian ice flavors that should be mostly full pretty much at all times #this morning i had to make seven #we should have 15 quarts 5 pints of vanilla and 5 quarts 3 pints of chocolate in our quart freezer at all times #last night we ran out of sorbet base for the italian ices and quart and pint lids and containers #so i had to do all of that and all of the vanilla and chocolate for the day and the non fruit flavors for tomorrow #(i should have done tomorrows fruit flavor but i had So Much else to do and i didnt know how to make the banana stuff for our banana flavors #so i didnt)#we had a $100 hour at 11am (we open at 11:30) and there were two of us there but it should have been just me and all the shit i had to do #josh was an absolute lifesaver #oh and i set off the alarm first thing so :')#the only things i ate today were a dunkin sandwich and three lunchables #i got home and Immediately zonked out

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whirlybirbs · 3 years

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( this chapter’s gif by @ransomflanagan from this beautiful set ! )

✪ — VACANT MIRRORS ; B.B. | 5/?

summary: your plan goes to asbolute shit.

pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader

tags: set before & during tfatws, friends to lovers, therapy positive, trauma healing techniques, ptsd mentions, the normalization of anxiety disorders, and a good ol’ slow burn

word count: 9k, please pray for my fingers

a/n: there’s action, there’s gunshot wounds, there’s canon appropriate violence! this one has a lot of plot, a lot of action, and i truly want to sleep for seven days after writing this. you should listen to the glass cannon’s club playlist while you read, though, for vibez.

( PREVIOUSLY | AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT )

You do have a plan.

Maybe it’s a little vague, a little messy, and a little up-in-the-air, but it’s a plan.

Get in, find Kiwi, avoid a handful of unsavory characters, and access the Alexandria Library.

Getting the hell out The Glass Cannon once you and Bucky were in was going to be a whole different plan entirely — one that was more improv than anything else. Hopefully, running a quick facial recognition program wouldn’t take long. With any luck, it would get a hit on any more recent aliases Innessa Sidrova was using after parsing the motherload of information Kiwi held onto with her life.

Kiwi wasn’t always known as Kiwi. She worked at SHIELD, like you, and back then she was known as Suji Awal. She stuck around longer — and she’d stayed on board during the active collapse to do heaven-sent work. It was an absolute Hail Mary, but while HYDRA had tried to purge all of SHIELD’s cloud data to protect their active agents and decades of progress, Suji had beat the hare in the race. Two steps ahead, she’d managed to pull nearly 97% of all confidential data including mission reports, agent profiles, and even electronic correspondence. While the metaphorical fire burned the documents behind her, she’d managed to salvage one of the only surviving, comprehensive looks at SHIELD before the curtain was pulled back to reveal HYDRA’s infection.

It had been used to try multiple HYDRA agents in the wake of it all in the federal courts. It was significant evidence, but after nearly all was reaped from the crop, Suji had taken the aptly named Alexandria Library and gone underground. Now, Kiwi was just another hacker in the thick of it and the Alexandria files were all but whispers.

It’s all about knowing the right people in the end.

Kiwi was a regular at The Glass Cannon. There was a nine out of ten chance you’d find her there. And if you didn’t find Kiwi, you’d probably find Climber and… Well, going to him wasn’t the most ideal situation, but out of the menagerie of acquaintances you’d gathered up throughout the years, you could trust Climber. He’d send you Kiwi’s way if you finally called in that favor he owed you. Either way, you’d find her and you’d get the files.

You just needed to avoid Alexei Gardzov.

Easy. Ish.

In truth, you barely get anything done Thursday — you’re too preoccupied in your head, running over the so-called plan even now as you fold laundry in the basement of your apartment complex.

You’d dug around in your closet, trying to find some semblance of an outfit. It was difficult. It wasn’t like the barely-there dresses and platform shoes were your thing anymore. Back then, your diet was mostly energy drinks and alcohol — in a way, it’s a relief to find that a good number of your staple outfits no longer fit. It made you feel like you really had put all this behind you.

You have.

Sure, it was the Rabbit you were going to have to be for tonight, but you’re not the Rabbit you were eight years ago. Good thing, too. You’re not too sure you and Bucky would have gotten along otherwise. Right now, your relationship with him was the biggest thing keeping you afloat — for the first time in a long time, you feel like you have some sort of purpose, even if it was a vague one at best.

You knew Innessa Sidrova was a threat — and you knew Bucky had to remedy that threat. You knew he felt responsible for creating her, for planting her in a position of power where she could manipulate and control. In truth, there was still a lot of vagueness surrounding his past. He’d made it clear he hasn’t been himself for a long time, but you couldn’t bring yourself to wade through the muck of his trauma to pluck out your answers. It just felt wrong.

If you were to say you hadn’t been tempted to go out on your own and dig, that’d be a lie.

Even now, as you pull out the ink-black top from the dryer and fold it neatly on top of the other pieces of laundry needed for tonight, you can feel it sparking like a lighter in the back of your head.

He was keeping something from you.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

You nearly jump six feet in the air.

It’s Miss Bonnie — and she’s laughing when her feet touch the cold concrete of the unfinished floor. Her basket of laundry is balanced neatly on her hip, and she walks with a smirk on her face. Her hair is piled neatly on top of her head, and as she bends to plop the basket down, she offers a wink.

“I could hear you thinking from upstairs,” she ruminates, paisley and dyed skirts kissing the ground, “Like a little steam engine.”

You laugh quietly into your task. You duck your head and heft a black bra and jeans from the dryer. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

She looks up, eyes moving carefully from the laundry pile to your face. Her eyes glimmer with quiet curiosity. “And a big night planned, huh?”

You snort. “What was the giveaway?”

“It’s always the lacey bras,” she chirps and slides a smirk your way as she waggles a finger at your pile, “And the strappy little bodysuit was a good hint, too.”

You exhale with a laugh, bracing a hand against the dryer. She’s not wrong — you’d really forgone comfort with this outfit lineup. It was temporary, though, and well worth the efforts if it meant helping Bucky tick off a name from his list of amends. You knew how much those meant to him.

“So,” she continues, voice muddled as she continues to load the washer, “I take it this friend of yours is really helping you out of your shell?”

“I guess so. Yeah. It’s — It’s sort of a mutual shell-cracking, I guess.”

“Mm,” a hum, “You sound troubled, though.”

Your mouth opens as your fingers trace the line of the bodysuit. You pause, and you rock back on your heels. Miss Bonnie notices.

She waits patiently, bent at the knees.

“You ever just…” you wave your hand, “Feel like — I don’t know. He’s my friend. My best friend, honestly, and that’s… Really saying a lot. But, there’s stuff under the surface and I know it’s not my business but…”

Out comes a strangled groan.

“What? Like a crazy ex-girlfriend?”

“No, no — I don’t think so,” you mutter, “Wouldn’t surprise me, though.”

“Handsome?” she asks, smiling.

You close your eyes and ignore the smile on your face as you reply. “Yea, handsome.”

“Well, have you tried asking?” she shrugs as she stands, “Not about the crazy ex, but about the stuff you’re worried about? It never hurts.”

“Problem is, I don’t really think it’s too much of my business.”

Miss Bonnie hums at that and presses the start on her washer. She’s quiet for a bit, swaying slightly as she weighs the conversation and you watch — enamored with the older woman’s calm wisdom. She gestures openly with ringed hands.

“I think it’s normal for us to want to know everything about those we care about,” she says, “We want to know how we can protect them, how we can comfort them. But… it comes in due time. All of it does. You’ll find a time when he does open up about the ex, or whatever it is on his mind. You’re friends, after all.”

You’re nodding, chest tight with thanks.

Miss Bonnie’s face is soft.

“You got a picture?” she chirps like a bird looking for a worm, “I wanna see who this little friend is. And if he really is as handsome as you’re suggesting...”

You scoff and lean to dig out your phone.

“Cut it out,” you mumble as she moves closer, “No playing matchmaker.”

“Sure, sure,” she waves, leaning to watch as you scroll through your camera roll.

The only photo you have of Bucky is there from Tuesday night — after he’d housed nearly an entire container of noodles and promptly passed out during the third Lord of the Rings movie. You’d woken up around one in the morning to find that Poke had unceremoniously curled up on top of the supersoldier’s chest. Bucky’s hand was still in the calico’s fur as he dozed, the colors of the TV painting his face all sorts of peaceful. You’d taken the photo, shoving it in his face after gently nudging him awake.

He’s laughed.

You gesture to show Miss Bonnie.

Like ice, she freezes.

You notice a microexpression dart across her face, but it’s gone in an instant. You can’t pin it, but the way she bends to pull the phone closer and zoom in on her face comes off as interest. You blink, label it as shock, and move on.

Her voice sounds different.

“Handsome,” she mumbles plainly, preoccupied with the sight, “I get it now. What’s his name?”

“Bucky,” you say as she hands the phone back, “He’s… He’s a good person.”

Miss Bonnie just nods.

You tuck your phone away and plop your laundry into your basket. Ignoring the sudden quiet that had crept between you both, you haul up the stack and offer her a gentle smile. She’s fiddling with the washer’s timer.

“Thank you, Miss Bonnie.”

“Of course,” she rushes out, smiling gently, “And be safe tonight.”

“I will.”

With your promise, you ascend the stairs.

In that basement, Bonnie McLayne is no more, and instead, Innessa Sidrova remembers that night in Moscow, back in 1975.

She remembers the Winter Soldier.

◦ ◦ ◦ ◦

Bucky calls you three times with no answer.

Normally, he’d just give up — but it was Thursday, and you weren’t answering the buzzer to your apartment either. He tries his best to ignore the strike of panic that sparks in his chest. It could stoke a wildfire, really, but he pushes it down and remembers to breathe. He doesn’t let himself think about what he’d do if something happened to you.

After all, you’re probably fine. Sleeping, maybe. The both of you had a long night ahead.

(Longer than either of you realize, really.)

It’s nearly seven o’clock, and after trying your cell one more time from his perch on your apartment’s stoop, Bucky decides to say fuck it.

A well-adjusted person might frown upon what he was about to do, but Bucky wasn’t exactly well-adjusted, now was he?

He rounds the back alley with long strides and easily finds that, with a little maneuvering, he can hoist himself upwards on top of the nearest dumpster. With a well-timed hop, he can also snag the bottom of the fire escape’s ladder and haul it downwards. The rest is easy, and he’s scaling the fire escape to the third floor with ease before he even knows it.

There’s even a smug little smirk on his face the whole time he does.

Finding your window is a little harder, but Bucky eventually spots Poke’s round little body smushed against the glass — it’s a dead giveaway, and after some prowling, he finds the window to your living room and unceremoniously throws it open.

It’s unlocked, for whatever reason, and he makes a mental note to have a conversation with you about safety and security in the city. After all, you never knew when an ex-assassin supersoldier was going to break in and pet your cat.

Upon opening the window, he pieces together pretty quickly why you’re not answering. Could be the music coming from your bedroom, or even the singing that’s coupled alongside it. From the bathroom across the hall from your room, steam has settled above on the ceiling. The whole apartment smells like fruit and soap and perfume and Bucky’s not really sure how to parse through all the sensory experiences that greet him with he shimmies in through the window, legs first.

All in all, they make him smile.

Bucky shuts the window behind him as he’s quickly greeted by Poke — the calico offers a gratuitous little chirp when Bucky bends to scoop up the cat. Easily, he melts. Poke is purring loudly in his ear as Bucky takes a moment to survey your apartment a little bit closer. Mr. Poke Bowl rubs his face against Bucky’s stubble as the man weaves through the kitchen.

It’s very you.

He isn’t really sure what that means at the end of the day, but all he knows is that he feels at home here. He feels safe. He feels comfortable. He feels like he can be himself. Not James, not Sergeant Barnes, not The Winter Soldier. Not even Steve’s Bucky, but just… his Bucky. Himself. Sarcastic and exhausted and a little cynical.

Bucky lets Poke down on the counter and moves to the fridge.

There’s still beer from the other night in there, tucked in the back, so he makes easy work on popping open a bottle and busying himself with petting a very adamant Poke.

As he sips the Leinenkugel, it’s no small coincidence that his phone buzzes again — for what feels like the hundredth time today — with a message from Janelle.

She was nice — pretty, too. Once upon a time, she would have been his type.

That was before he met you, though.

There’s a little pinprick of mortification at that quiet confession that’s been slipping into his heart more and more in the last few days. You are, after all, his best friend. He’s your best friend. Guilt swims with the feelings that have begun to pluck his heartstrings and he has to admit he’s not too comfortable with the song they play.

His biggest fear is fucking this up.

Fucking you up.

Honestly, his track record isn’t great. The whole defrosted-international-threat bit made it a little difficult to date. Janelle seemed to think the date had gone well enough, though, hence the handful of texts he’d been getting every few hours asking if he’s free.

Like usual, he ignores them.

Exercising his own free will is hard sometimes. Especially when it comes to saying no.

Taking another swig of the beer, Bucky shoves his phone back into his pocket and tucks his fingers back into Poke’s fur. The calico’s tail swings patiently as he sits and watches — and it’s a little weird how human his eyes are for a second there. He mmrrps and lunges for Bucky’s hand when he comes close, bonking his head eagerly against the cool vibranium.

It’s a different sensation.

That’s another big adjustment — learning how things really feel with this new arm. It’s not just handling recoil or gripping knives or throwing punches. It’s the soft tickle of fur, the gentle pressure of a warm rag to clean the joints. Meticulous upkeep wasn’t something HYDRA did often. He doesn’t miss the twinge of pain and molasses-like stickiness that came with a dirty arm. Blood was the worst. Always sat deep in the cracks.

He flexes his fingers. Poke meows again.

He moves to plop down on the couch. Poke follows.

You’re singing, still, to some song that Bucky’s never heard, when you push open your bedroom door and move towards the living room.

You jump six feet in the air and scream when you see him just sitting there, clutching a beer and petting Poke like he fucking lives here rent-free.

Bucky’s reaction is muted, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with your outfit and your jewelry and the pink eye shadow that creeps up your brow-bone. There’s glitter on your eyelids and lip gloss on your mouth and he can smell some sort of candy-sweet perfume coming off you. The plunging neckline of the jet-black top is enough to leave him shifting his gaze back up to your startled expression with a tight jaw.

His face is blank.

Then he offers that stupid fucking smile he does. Y’know, the tight-lipped one where he somehow maintains a dead-eyed look the whole time. If you weren’t trying to calm your racing heartbeat, you might have laughed. You hate the white-hot flare it sparks in your chest.

“How the fuck did you get in here?” you hiss, waving your hands.

“We need to have a serious conversation about locking our windows,” he says as he kicks his feet up on the coffee table and wags a finger at you, “Also, what are you wearing?”

“You — You fucking broke in through my window?”

“Yea, well, you were too busy pretending to be Britney Spears to hear me try and buzz up, and my phone calls.”

Sheepishly, you cross your arms. “Nice reference—”

A shrug from Bucky. “Thank you.”

“—Also, what are you wearing?”

He looks down at his usual t-shirt, leather jacket combo. He squints back up at you.

“I’m sorry,” he chirps, “You’re talking to me? Did the department store run out of fabric, Rabbit?”

You self-consciously adjust the plunging neckline of the bodysuit as you frown deeply. “I think I’m gonna skip on the fashion advice from the man who lived in a time where ankles were seen as scandalous.”

“I was born in 1917,” he mumbles as he stands, actively avoiding another pass over your outfit because as much as he hates to admit it, it’s not a bad look on you, “Not 1817.”

“Point being, we’re going to a club. And you look like you’re going to the local Home Depot,” you move to snag a set of dangly earrings that are sitting on the coffee table, “We’ve gotta look like we’re there to party, nothing more.”

Bucky sighs. He finishes the beer, places the bottle down and sheds his jacket. “So, what?”

You pry your eyes away from the flash of skin — his arm, flesh and blood, speaks to how strong he is. And, undoubtedly how easy it was for him to fucking scale three stories of the fire escape to bust in.

“So,” you mumble as you thread the earring in, “I have some of Jaimie’s old shirts. There’s probably something you can use… If they fit.”

Bucky exhales softly. “You kept them?”

“Didn’t have the heart to throw them out,” you reply as you gesture for him to follow you into your bedroom.

The back of your top is arguably more crisis-inducing than the front — it’s an open back, and Bucky settles on admiring the decor rather than the curve of your spine. He has to. For his own fucking self-composure.

Your bedroom is nice — and like the rest of your space, it makes him feel comfortable. It’s all warm colors and posters and plants in the corners. Across from your queen-sized bed, there’s a large desk with a triple monitor setup. That’s where the music is coming from. The little knick-knacks on your shelves and desk make him chuckle.

Then, he stops, halfway to the closet, and stares.

You blink over your shoulder as you bend, digging to the back of your closet to pull out the clear bin you’d piled most of Jaimie’s stuff into after the funeral. After you’d cleaned out his apartment on your own.

He’s looking at the poster — the one from Cap’s USO tour. It’s framed nicely, set up on the wall beside your desk. It’s got a gold frame, and Bucky can’t help but wander closer to look at the signature.

It’s Steve’s alright.

“How much did you pay for this?”

You scoff. Your necklaces tinker together. “Don’t even go there.”

“The jerk signed thousands of these,” he mumbles, crossing his arms as he leans closer, “And still, the fame didn’t go to his head.”

You smile softly, leaning back.

“Jealous?” you chirp, raising your brows as you pretend to swoon, “Oh, Sergeant Barnes, I’d just love to meet your dear friend—”

Bucky’s laughing as you swat at his knee, leaning back on the carpet like a damsel in distress.

“Shut up,” he snorts, “It’s a sore subject for me.”

“Oh my god.”

“I’m serious — do you know how many dates I had to set up for the chump? And then, boom. I’m invisible.”

“Yeah, well,” you mutter with a smile, unclicking the lid, “Some people just like blondes, Buck. I’m sure there were plenty of eyes on you. Stop being so dramatic.”

“Yea, the best friend, sure,” he mumbles at the poster, “Hell, he was taller than me. You know you don’t need to lie to me—”

“Listen, if I was some Lauren Bacall-looking nurse back then,” you wave your hands, “I’d have gone for you. Alright? Stop lamenting and get over here.”

He goes quiet and ignores the warmth in his cheeks. He squats by your side. “Shut up.”

“We seriously need to work on taking compliments,” you groan, throwing your head back, “I’m being serious, y’know, for once. And I’m not just saying it as your friend. You’re handsome and everyone knows it except you, apparently. My neighbor agrees that’s for sure.”

He squints.

You wave it off and gesture to your outfit. “She saw me doing laundry.”

“That explains nothing,” Bucky deadpans, “Literally nothing.”

“I showed her a picture,” you cry indignantly, moving to shuffle through some of the old t-shirts sitting on top of the bin, “Relax.”

He moves to plop down, crossing his legs beneath him. He decides to let the topic die — again, for his own self-composure more than anything. The compliment, though vehemently denied by the worst part of him, is tucked neatly in the homes of his heart. The idea of meeting you, before now, is a little intoxicating. What would it have been like?

Would you have even spared him a dance?

Bucky rubs his cheek. Poke meows and buts the door open with his head.

You’re wrist-deep in the bin when you speak. “He’s obsessed with you, y’know.”

Poke has already taken up a post in Bucky’s lap. Bucky smiles, petting Poke gently with his vibranium hand. The cat seems to like the cool metal. Bucky mumbles softly down to the calico, scritching his cheeks. “I like him, too.”

You pause long enough to try and remember the sight.

Bucky’s eyes find yours, and you’re quick to turn back to the bin.

“Here we go,” you exhale as you pull out the shirt you’d been looking for.

It’s a long-sleeve button-down, one that you can distinctly remember Jaimie wearing to his engagement party’s after-party — a real typical night of Jaimie being Jaimie. It’s black with a barely-there red floral pattern. It’s flashy enough that Bucky won’t look horribly out of place.

The only problem is Jaimie was a little smaller than Bucky.

“Try this on,” you mumble as you dig around trying to find something else in case it doesn’t do the trick.

Bucky catches the silk shirt and gives it a once over. He raises an eyebrow, and deciding against debating this, he simply nudges Poke off his lap and stands.

He moves to your bed, laying the shirt out. On your closet door is a full-length mirror. You want to snap it in half when you accidentally catch a glimpse of Bucky hauling off his black, cotton t-shirt and anxiously fumbling with the buttons on Jaimie’s old shirt. You have to breathe — and remind yourself that that’s Bucky.

Your Bucky. Your best friend Bucky.

When he calls your name, it sounds far away. You’re busy angrily sorting through old clothes.

“I look ridiculous.”

When you turn around, the first thing you notice is that it’s a little tight. Not in a bad way, but the buttons are gapping along his chest, and it’s tight around his arms.

Your eyes widen a little and you swallow. You tilt your head.

Bucky’s frowning.

“Let me see,” you offer gently, standing and moving close, “It’s not that bad.”

“You don’t sound too sure right now,” he mumbles as you enter his personal space.

You’re nimble with undoing the top three buttons — it gives him enough room to move his shoulders, though, and the dip of the shirt along his sternum brings dog tags into view. You reach, momentarily entranced, and read them to yourself.

You smell like vanilla and sugar.

Bucky shifts in his boots.

“Y’know,” you say, moving to the sleeves, “I think this works.”

You roll the sleeves, stopping at his forearm.

When you step aside, Bucky can see himself in the full-length mirror. He looks less than enthused.

It’s not an entirely bad look — he’ll admit that much — but he doesn’t look like himself. No, there’s too much chest and skin and… Christ, this shirt is tight. He does, though, look like some of those trendy folks he sees at Izzy’s bar every now and again. Hipsters.

“I look like a douchebag.”

“That’s the point,” you chirp as you close the box and shove it back into your closet, “Now the outfit matches the personality.”

He swats at your head on the way by. You laugh.

You’ve got boots in your hand, and you land on the bed with a bounce. Bucky is busy fixing his hair in the mirror while you zip up the thigh-high boots. When he turns around, you’re about three inches taller. He blinks, yet again entranced by the outfit.

Then, you’re muscling on the jacket.

It’s neon pink — and shaggy and cropped. It falls just above your waist and swallows you whole. But, Bucky’s attention is mostly on the back.

There’s a large, white embroidered Playboy bunny there, with RABBIT written across the shoulders in a chunky, blackletter typeface.

His brows are high on his face when you turn around.

You freeze.

“...What?” you ask, “Something on my face?”

“Playboy bunny, huh?”

You could smack him. “Weren’t you busy being a frozen dinner when Playboy came out?”

“I’ll have you know,” he says tightly as he follows you out of your bedroom and to the living room, “The Russians enjoyed their fair share of editions.”

“The Russians? Sure, what’s that saying? There’s no sex in the USSR?” you chide, “You can just say Bucky Barnesenjoyed his fair share—”

The tips of his ears are red. You notice. It makes you split into a grin that worsens the pink shade that’s crawling up his neck.

He coughs. “Have you ever considered never opening your mouth again, Rabbit?”

You nudge his arm. “Nah. Bothering you is more fun.”

He shrugs on his jacket, sighs, and decides that keeping quiet is just easier.

However, that’s not entirely your plan — and you speak quickly as you pull your purse over your shoulder. You’re rummaging quietly, stacking your wallet and phone inside. You glance up at him.

“You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” he mumbles, bending to pat Poke one last time as you move to the door of your bedroom. He watches you flick all the lights off, and before you leave, you double check the calico’s food and water. He’s got enough for a few days. Bucky leans against the door frame, “Care to run me through the plan?”

Nodding, you move to open your front door.

“It’ll be easy,” you explain as you make room for him, “If we play our cards right—”

Bucky’s stopped, though, and is digging in his back pocket as his cell phone rings. You watch him exhale tightly, eyes on the screen the entire time he squeezes by you and starts down the hall. You make careful note of the delicate scowl on his face, only before you catch Miss Bonnie out of the corner of her eye.

Her door is half-cracked across the hall, and she’s watching.

She offers you a smile.

Bucky keeps walking.

You wave, lock your door, and jog to catch up to Bucky.

“Hey,” you call, “Earth to Mr. Claw Machine?”

His head snaps up. “Sorry.”

“Who was that?” you ask carefully, nudging his arm with yours, “Falcon?”

“I wish,” he mutters as he muscles the cellphone back into his pocket, “I wouldn’t feel so bad sending him to voicemail.”

“Yeesh,” you wince, “Lemme guess, was it the owner of the coral lipstick that was all over your face on Tuesday night?”

Again, that temptation to feel jealousy flares up in your heart. But, he’s here, isn’t he? With you. Ignoring her calls. And probably texts judging by the guilty look that’s on his face. You feel a little bad — but at the same time, Bucky’s a grown man. Maybe a grown man who needs to create some more transparent lines of communication with the poor woman, but still.

“Bingo. I mean — it’s not that she wasn’t great an’ all but…”

You raise both hands. “I’m not judging.”

He sighs raggedly as he bounces down the apartment’s stairs. “I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

“What?” you ask with a laugh, “Dating? Yea, it’s pretty fucking terrifying, Buck.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

You hold the door open for him and slide him a pitying look.

“Because I am.”

The walk to The Glass Cannon is spent walking Bucky through the plan — and for the most part, he makes a point of nodding along and listening. His only real anxiety pops up at the mention of Alexei, which is relatable to say the least.

It’s dark, the streets are relatively quiet, and the spring chill has pricked your skin. Your heels click against the pavement, and you stalk along. Shoving your hands in your pockets of the pink, shag jacket, you huff.

You’re starting to feel the anxiety.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re both approaching the blue glow of the storefront.

Computers & Stuff was a family-owned and operated computer shop from the 90s that was taken over by a lesser-known hand of the Russian crime family in New York, the Gardzovs. Alexei’s father is the formal owner of the shop, and his son runs the lucrative activities of the underground club that lay beneath the graphics cards and motherboards.

Bucky, as you both near the entrance, speaks quickly. “Anything else I need to know?”

“Just follow my lead, okay?” you whisper.

The bell above the door dings when you pull open the glass door.

The lighting is sterile and if you’re real quiet, you can hear the dull hum of the fluorescents. The store is empty, save for one man behind the register.

You almost duck out the entrance at the sight of him.

Igor has been a bouncer at The Glass Cannon for as long as you’ve been a patron — and he’s also one of Alexei’s dogs. This part of the plan was something you’d considered only briefly, and for a second, you’re thankful you worried over the million and ten ways this would play out for days.

“Well, if it isn’t the little bunny.”

It’s said with malice. Igor’s tattooed hands land on the counter as he leans.

You, however, hold your head high. Bucky watches as something changes in your posture.

“Good to see you, Igor.”

“Is it?” he growls, stalking around the counter and quickly encroaching on your personal space, “Because I’m pretty sure you’re not welcome here, bunny.”

Bucky gets a good look at the man now — clearly an enforcer. He’s got prison tattoos, a shaved head. The long beard is a weak spot. Doesn’t seem to be armed. Blue eyes flick to you and the way you don’t even flinch when the man leans to breathe right in your face.

You just smile.

“I thought you’d say that,” you mumble, moving to swing your bag to the front and dig your wallet out, “But, I’m not here to cause any trouble.”

Suddenly, there’s a hundred-dollar bill slipping from your well-manicured nails into the vest pocket of the bouncer. There’s a tense pause, then, while the two of you size one another up.

“Fucking your way through college paid off, huh?” he hisses.

You stay quiet.

Bucky, though, moves between you both with a quick shove. Immediately, Igor’s attention goes to Bucky as he sizes him up — he laughs. His nose is nearly touching Bucky’s.

“What’s wrong, pretty boy?”

“You should watch your mouth,” Bucky says evenly, “Or I’ll cut your fucking tongue out.”

You’re careful to hide your expression; the feeling the words stir isn’t one that you’re happy about. This sudden protectiveness, though, makes you feel some sort of invincible.

Igor settles back on his heels.

He steps back.

He gestures to the back room with his head.

You keep walking when he calls out: “Careful, bunny, the dogs are going to be looking for you.”

You grit your teeth tightly and push through the fabric curtain.

He barks, taunting you.

Bucky is by your side in an instant, gaze still rooted over his shoulder at the hulking bouncer. He waits until you’ve settled down until you’ve said his name. His eyes fall to you, then to the stairwell before them.

Above it, in curled neon tubing, reads The Glass Cannon.

The windows are blacked out, but from his spot at the top of the stairs, Bucky can feel the rattle of a deep bass vibrate his ribs.

“Come on. We’re on a time crunch now.”

“Alexei?”

You nod as you lead the way down the stairs. “Word travels fast. We need to be quicker. Stick to the crowds. Remember, we just need to find Kiwi — then we bail.”

Bucky nods tensely.

Then, you open the doors.

Immediately, his eyes adjust to the darkness — neon and strobes and the pulse of purple and pink LEDs make his vision swim. It’s warmer down here, and the stairs leading down into the sub-basement is lined with people sipping drinks and chattering over the loud music. It smells like piss and beer and tobacco.

Again, Bucky watches as the person he knows melts away.

The Rabbit in front of him is different.

You reach, as if on reflex, for his hand.

When you turn around and flash him a smile, he has to swallow down a sudden rise of sheepishness.

The sea of people part around you, and Bucky realizes quickly that people recognize you. He can see their painted lips moving, muttering things into curious ears about the pink-clad woman in front of him; there are smiles there and frowns, and shock. You’re slow in your descent, making a show of the arrival — all while Bucky begins to piece together that The Glass Cannon is larger than he originally suspected.

As they near the bottom of the landing, he can see out across the floor.

There’s a square-shaped catwalk around the dance floor, laden with dancers on their designated poles. Tables line the outside of the cavernous room, and the bars along each wall are crowded — even still, these glimpses of his surroundings come in temporary flashes of light. The music coming from the center of the dancefloor is loud. The entirety of the scene is raucous.

He can’t imagine you finding solace here.

He tightens his grip on your hand. You squeeze back.

When both of you reach the bottom of the stairwell, the sea of people swallow you in a current of dancing and drinking and laughing, and you crawl into Bucky’s personal space to shout in his ear.

You’re still holding his hand tightly, pressed to his chest, as you lean upwards to brush your cheek with his.

“Follow me, okay?”

He nods.

You begin the methodical crawl through the dancefloor, working your way to the bar — there, you pause long enough to be served a drink that’s as pink as the glitter on your eyelids. The flecks dance in the lights, and Bucky graciously accepts a shot from the bartender who smiles sweetly like honey at you.

You bat your lashes, thank her, and stand gracefully from the barstool.

You take a pointed swig and scan the floor.

Kiwi would be in one of the private booths, you suspect — she was enough of a high roller here. But, with the crowded club bursting at the seams, it was nearly impossible to get to the other side. You sway a bit on your feet, still tightly gripping Bucky’s hand in your own. You refuse to let go.

For your sake and his.

Bucky is a silent shadow, eyes roaming the club — he watches a dancer dip down low and snag a green bill from a patron. Someone beside him laughs loud, another bumping into his backside as you continue to weave to the outer rim of the room. The music is so loud his heartbeat could be mistaken for an 808, and he feels the thrum in his bones.

If he wasn’t so overwhelmed, if he was drunk, maybe it could be fun.

Finally, out of the haze of bodies, Bucky can breathe.

You’re leaning over again, speaking quickly.

“I don’t see her.”

“I can’t see shit in here,” he calls back, eyes moving along the ridge of the room. He scans the booths set into the walls, set up on platforms, and roped off with velveteen, “Where would she be?”

“Hard to tell,” you mumble, “But I think I might need to go to Plan B.”

Bucky follows your solid stare.

In the booth directly across the floor from you, there’s a man in black — black everything, save from his hair. That’s the brightest blue Bucky has ever seen. He’s swallowed by a harem of men and women who are laughing and drinking and dancing, and he’s entertaining. Ringed fingers wave in the air, face split into a laugh so wide he swears it’s a mile long. He’s got glasses on and they’re tinted blue.

Bucky watches carefully as you move to his booth.

It’s like a prey surveying a trap — you’re careful.

Finally, when you stand before it, you let go of his hand.

“Hi there, Climber.”

The whole booth falls silent. The man stiffens, back turned to you totally. Bucky watches as his hands fall and slowly, the man you’d called Climber turns around.

His expression is stone cold.

His voice, however, is as warm as a hot poker.

“Oh my goodness, is that Rabbit?”

He ascends from the booth, platform boots leaving him to tower over you — he’s no small man, either. Bucky watches as he bends to kiss both of your cheeks and hug you tightly. He, however, doesn’t pull away entirely.

“What the fuck are you doing here,” he hisses, “You want to be roadkill?”

“I need to find Kiwi,” you whisper quickly, expression almost begging, “Please.”

He pauses, dimpled chin wavering a bit. Bucky watches him sniff, push his glasses back, and readjust his posture. Climber licks his lips and his eyes dart to Bucky. He’s thinking, Bucky realizes, and after a quick moment of deliberation, he seems to cave.

“Only because I owe you.”

“I know,” you say, raising your hands, “I know.”

In a dash, his demeanor changes once more. He’s flying over to his harem, waving his hands and blowing kisses and promising he’ll be back in a flash. They whine, they moan, but Climber appeases them with another round of jello shots from strobing syringes that a waitress is carrying by.

“Come on then,” he says, “And stop looking like such a prude.”

He begins to weave.

You follow hand returning to its spot in Bucky’s like a lifeline.

You’re sipping your drink, moving through the crowd easily. There’s a slight sway in your step now, and at one point you and Climber even get noticed by a pod of people who recognize your faces. It’s met with laughing and squealing and in the fray, the both of you slip back into the crowd. Bucky is taking it all in, desperately ignoring the tingle of a panic flaring in the back of his head.

Too many people.

Soon, though, Climber is moving towards a side entrance.

It’s a back room.

Suddenly, the dim lights and neon dissolve, and instead, Bucky is flashed in the face with the abrasive sting of fluorescent lights. It no longer reeks of spilled beer, and his boots don’t stick to the ground. No, there’s quiet chatter back here — Climber continues to lead the two of you through a maze of supply crates full of booze and soda.

Then, a right turn. And a left turn.

Someone is taking inventory.

“Kiwi, I know you’re going to hate me for this—”

The woman who turns around is beautiful. She’s in the midst of eyeing an open crate that looks just like the others but fitted with a hollowed center, marking off what looks like an inventory of burner cell phones. Her brown skin is decorated with glitter, her eyes streaked with the same green shade of her tightly shaved head. The green is bright and it reminds Bucky of summer.

Suddenly, her expression sours.

“What the fuck.”

“I know—”

“No,” she snaps, raising her hand and waving to the assistant beside her to take her tablet and make themselves scarce, “You need to get out of here.”

“I need your help,” you say finally, tone heavy.

It’s enough to make Climber sigh. Kiwi watches you, scratches her neck, and swallows.

She meets Climber’s eyes.

Then she breaks.

��Where the fuck have you been, Rabbit?” she asks, worries seeping into her eyes as she pulls you into a rough hug, “We thought you were dead.”

“No,” you shake your head, “But you know I couldn’t be around here anymore.”

“Yea,” Climber snorts, “Not good for your health, huh, love?”

“Alexei still wants your head,” Kiwi chimes in, crossing her arms, “Does he know you’re here?”

“Igor was on the door, so I’m sure he’s heard by now.”

Both of them curse.

Guilt flashes across your face as you screw your eyes shut and nod. “I know. I know, I just… I seriously need your help, Kiwi. It was worth the risk. It’s — HYDRA. I need to tap into the Alexandria Library.”

Immediately, the woman stiffens.

Her eyes flash to Bucky in the corner. He stares back.

“He waits outside.”

“You can trust him—”

“No,” she snaps, “I can’t. And I don’t. And I won’t.”

You give Bucky a pleading look. Between the two of you, a negotiation happens between your eyes. It’s a compromise, and finally, Bucky relents.

“Fine,” Bucky barks, tilting his head and giving you a tight-lipped smile, “Fine. I’ll wait out here.”

“He’s cute,” mumbles Climber as Bucky rounds the corner, long legs carrying him out of the supply room, “Boyfriend?”

“Shut up, Climber,” you mumble, waving your hand, “Just listen—”

“Who is he?” Kiwi asks, eyes still watching the doorway, “And why did you bring him along?”

You sigh, rubbing your brow. “He’s the one who’s trying to find this HYDRA agent. He knew her before.”

“So he’s HYDRA.”

“No,” you snap cooly, “He’s not.”

“So, just handsome, then?” Climber asks, hands waving, “Right. Great. Really making a case for yourself, Rabbit.”

“He’s trying to find a woman named Innessa Sidrova. She was one of the original agents who helped form the American HYDRA cell,” you explain quickly, “I’ve got the GRC breathing down my neck, and… And he’s a good person. He’s my friend. I’m trying to help him, but I can’t do it without you. Both of you.”

Kiwi hums. She sighs. “That explains why you went MIA.”

“Aside from putting Alexei behind bars?” you scoff, “Yea, the GRC played a part in it.”

The three of you are quiet for a moment.

“Fine.”

You look up at Kiwi. Her hands are on her waist.

There’s an immense wash of relief that floods over you at that moment — and from the looks of it, Kiwi can tell. You move to grab her hand, and she grabs back. Both of you smile, and the hug that follows is warm. You’ve missed her. A lot.

“Thank you, Suji.”

Then, footsteps.

That relief is traded in for an anxious backfire of fear in an instant.

It’s slow. Dress shoes on polished cement.

Then:

“Oh, bunny, bunny, bunny. Tsk, tsk.”

Climber and Kiwi’s faces upturn to the doorway and they tell you everything you need to know.

So, you decide at that moment that you won’t be the prey tonight.

You turn around and come face-to-face with a man playing devil.

Alexei Gardzov is a handsome man — a beard and piercing grey eyes. His hair is tightly cropped, and intricate tattoos decorate every inch of his skin. Some of them are new, you realize, and there’s temporary pride that bubbles up at them. They’re from prison.

You almost smile.

Behind him, three goons loom.

“I’ve been wondering when you’d come hopping back,” he croons as he enters the room with the swagger of a man who trapped his dinner, “Well worth the wait, I think.”

His cologne hangs like smog in the air. He strolls up to you, and in a flash, he’s got your hair in a vice grip.

He yanks it back, you grit your teeth.

The barrel of a gun digs into your cheek.

“Climber, Kiwi, and Rabbit,” he sing-songs, “All in one room again like it’s NYU’s 2014 hack-a-thon. Isn’t that cute?”

Kiwi speaks. “Alexei—”

“Shut up,” he snaps, gun moving to flash towards Kiwi, “And stay out of my business, Sujina.”

The gun’s muzzle is cold. He’s rough, and you try to ignore the twinge of pain that comes with his unceremonious yank of your hair. Once more, he tsks. His breath is hot on your face. He smells like cigarettes and whiskey.

“I spent seven years behind bars,” he bites, “All because a’ you.”

“Me? I wasn’t the one trafficking girls—”

“SHUT UP!”

The pistol cracks across your cheek and the cement floor hurtles towards you. The gasp that falls from your lips is from shock; your fingers dig into the cold ground as you try to blink away the blurriness. Your ears ring. Blood drips from your cheek between your fingers.

Again, there’s a hand in your hair.

Now, the fight begins.

Climber and Kiwi are stuck, frozen in fear.

You don’t blame them, because Igor and the others have guns already drawn. One of them, one that’s young and you don’t recognize immediately, has a baseball bat in his hands.

Alexei drags you by your hair as you grimace, refusing to scream. Your heels scrape against the ground as you try to get purchase, but he’s quick to throw you back against the far wall.

“Don’t worry, Bunny,” he smiles, “I won’t kill you. Not right now.”

Then, a kick.

Right to the ribs.

You can’t breathe — you gasp earnestly at the white, hot shot of pain.

“Get up.”

You’re not listening, you’re too busy trying to catch your breath.

“I said,” comes a growl as he reaches, hand in your hair again as he drags you up the wall. Your legs buckle, and you try to hold your chin high as you stumble upwards, “Get up.”

Then, there’s a hand around your throat.

Tight. Too tight. Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe. Can’t get his hand off your neck, can’t breathe, can’t breathe, can’t fucking think, can’t stand, can’t see, can’t breathe —

“Boss!”

A new voice.

The pressure is relieved for a second.

A new face has run into the room — he looks frazzled, hair askew and gun out. He’s eyeing the scene before him in a moment’s pause.

“Can’t you see I’m a little bit busy?” Alexei snags as you gasp, clawing at his hand. He swings his head to the figure in the doorway with an annoyed bark, “What is it?”

“The cops, boss,” he stammers, “They’re here.”

“What?”

“They’re here for her, boss.”

A slow turn to where his finger is pointing. His gaze lands on you. Alexei laughs.

“Well,” he says as the goon disappears, “Isn’t that just peachy, bunny?”

The choking starts again.

Then, a metal hand.

Vibranium.

You watch it swing, you watch it grab Alexei’s throat.

Suddenly, you can breathe.

Suddenly, Bucky Barnes enters the fight.

You make friends with the ground again as you duck, just as Alexei is rammed into the wall above your head by his throat. As you cough while Kiwi calls your name — you can hear a fight. But everything’s moving slow, and it’s not until the first gunshot that you’re kicked into action. It’s loud. Your skin pricks alive.

Someone screams.

You stumble to your feet, eyes finding Bucky’s form moving quickly between the three goons — the gunshot had come from the pistol that had somehow found its way into Bucky's flesh and blood hand. One of the men is on the floor, suit pants stained with a bullet wound through the thigh. He’s wailing. Bucky doesn’t notice. Or he doesn’t care. Maybe both.

His face is cold.

Another gunshot is fired off, this time richoting between you and Kiwi and Climber and embedding itself into the cement wall overhead. The three of you scream, ducking reflexively.

That’s when Bucky snaps.

“Now would be a good time to go!”

Kiwi’s hands are on your arm as you quickly break through the doorway through the storage room. Climber is following, checking over his shoulder at the carnage that Bucky begins to reap in the room.

He’s hysterical, trying to jog in his white platform boots. “What the fuck, Rabbit!”

Your voice is hoarse. You’re clutching your ribs. “Not now, Climber!”

“I’m parked in the back,” Kiwi says, ducking through plastic flaps as she helps you through the back of the club, “Come on, we’ll go through the trucking entrance.”

You hear Bucky call your name — he’s jogging to catch up, gun drawn in his hand. Seems like he made good work of the others, sporting nothing more than a split lip. You turn, pausing for a moment to take inventory of his well-being.

And that’s all it takes.

Alexei Gardzov, limping, steps in front of you and Kiwi and Climber at an intersection in the hallway.

There’s a gun in his hand.

The first thing you feel is the impact.

Like a truck slamming into you at full speed. For the fourth time tonight, you have the air robbed from your lungs. It’s instant confusion.

Then comes the pain. Hot. Hotter than the sun. Hot like white flames. It tears through your shoulder and all you can do is gasp; you’re sent into a stutter step — and while the world around you continues to move, you’re busy reconciling with the fact you’ve just been shot.

A bullet flies by your head.

Alexei Gardzov drops.

You’re grasping at your chest, staggering, when Bucky breaks into a sprint — but you’re okay. You’re okay, it’s just your shoulder, it’s just your arm, you’re okay, you can feel your fingers and you can breathe and the pain is nearly unbearable but you’re okay.

Then, a baseball bat.

It clocks Bucky directly in the skull. He’s clotheslined.

It’s Igor.

The gun from Bucky’s hands clatters across the ground to your feet, and you’re too busy trying to get to Bucky to realize — but, you’ve got tunnel vision and adrenaline and at that moment, you think a good sidekick doesn’t need anything else in this life.

Igor goes to swing at you, but you duck. Your stiletto crushes through the top of his shoe. He screams and in a flurry of pain and panic, you manage to snag the bat quick enough to turn and clock him under the chin with a roll of the wrist.

His teeth clack together and he falls backward, unconscious.

“God, I really wish you could have seen that, Buck.”

You spit. Blood paints the ground.

The bat clatters to the cement as you fight through the pain. Kiwi and Climber are by your side in an instant.

“No, no!” she screams, “We do not have time for this—”

“I am not leaving him,” you snap, nearly screaming at the woman, “Come on and help me with him. Now.”

After a sigh of resignation, Kiwi shoves the gun she’d snagged from the ground into the back of her jeans. You’ve got your hands around Bucky’s ankles as Kiwi and Climber take his torso — and the four of you make a break for the back entrance. You can hear the cops outside now, and there’s the chatter of Russian following you into the back parking lot.

“Hurry up!”

“He’s not exactly light as a feather, you know!”

“Shut up, Climber!”

You’ve got Bucky halfway into the back seat of Kiwi’s white Cadillac when another bullet whizzes by your head.

“Fuck.”

Kiwi hops into the driver’s seat as Climber scatters to hop the hood and throws himself into the passenger's seat. You lean, clinging to the door of the backseat as Kiwi peels out of the parking lot. It swings wide open and you curse loudly. You can see Alexei’s men watching from the back entrance, shouting in Russian — so you muster all your strength to pull back and throw the door closed as Kiwi’s car bounces over a speed bump and rams through the parking meter’s gate.

In the rear window, the front of the club is surrounded.

Red and blue lights illuminate the street — but Kiwi is quick.

No one follows.

And when she finally makes it to the Manhattan Bridge, you exhale.

Bucky’s head is in your lap. He still hasn’t come to — there’s blood coming from his nose and you’re worrying. You lace your fingers into his thick, brown hair and chew your lip.

Kiwi’s voice pulls you from him.

“When were you going to mention the vibranium arm, huh?”

You laugh. It’s more of a breath of air than anything. Your head rests back against the seat. Your shoulder is still on fire. You’re hot, but cold. You’re bleeding still. Your ribs aren’t right. You know that.

“I can’t believe he shot you,” Climber mumbles, “He fucking shot you.”

“And your boy toy shot him,” Kiwi says, sparing you a look in the rearview, “So you better pray he’s dead.”

You ignore the commentary.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere safe,” she says, accelerating into Manhattan, “Where I can get you those files and you can keep your head down.”

Sounds like a plan.

Better than the one you had, anyways.

#vacant mirrors #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier imagine #tfatws imagine #bucky x you #BOY OH BOY THE FORMATTING I WANNA SCREAM

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bellasprettywords · 3 years

Note

Hi! I just finished your most recent one shot of narcissa’s POV on draco and y/n’s relationship and I loved it! I wanted to ask if you can do a part 2 where it’s after he proposed and she said yes ofc! and she tells him it’s perfect timing since she’s pregnant. They go on and tell her family first on their news and they are really happy but they go on and tell his family that they’re engaged and Lucius isn’t happy he’s marrying a half blood and doesn’t approve saying he isn’t letting Draco ruin their “true pure-blood” but dracos like well it’s happening and y/n’s already expecting. In the end Lucius goes to their wedding and asks for their forgiveness and he approves.

a/n: sorry for the late response, love; I was a little busy with schoolwork, but I hope this one shot is worth the wait.

PD: this is written from y/n’s POV, as I wasn’t sure how you'd like it

y/n – your name

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,590

Masterlist

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

Part 1

You weren’t sure why Draco insisted on purchasing 10 pounds of chocolate frogs at Station 9 ¾ but as soon as you saw him kneel with a black box in his hands it all made sense: he was recreating the day you met. In fact, his proposal came at the right time as you had some exciting news yourself: earlier that week you found out that you were pregnant. When you first told Draco the news, he couldn’t contain his happiness. He felt like the luckiest man alive: the love of his life agreed to marry him, and he was having a baby with the most amazing woman he ever met.

You agreed on telling your family at dinner that same day, as you just couldn’t wait to share your happy news. Both of you arrived at your parent’s home for dinner and as soon as you saw your mum, you just couldn’t keep your excitement anymore:

“Draco and I are getting married” you said screaming and holding your hand out so you mum could see the gorgeous ring that was placed on your finger. You mum hugged the two of you and teared up.

“What’s all that fuzz about?” you dad entered the parlor a little confused coming down from the staircase

“Our little baby is getting married” your mom added now fully crying tears of happiness

“For Merlin, congratulations, you kiddos” said your dad embracing Draco, your mom and you “I said it once, but I’ll say it again: welcome to the family, son” he said now pulling Draco into a tight hug

“That’s not all” Draco muttered with a huge grin “y/n is also expecting” he said placing his hand over your -still flat- abdomen

“OH FOR MERLIN, WE ARE GONNA BE GRAND PARENTS” your mother cried of excitement again and pulled you into a tight hug

“My little princess is having a baby” your dad added with teary eyes “I’m so very happy for you two, I know you’ll be great parents” he was now hugging Draco again

The rest of the evening you spent it with watery eyes and in tight hugs as the people you loved the most in the world were completely stoked by your news. Later that night, Draco and you went back to your shared apartment and spend the night in each other’s arms. The next morning, you woke up with Draco giving you gentle kisses all over your face.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty” Draco said with a grin from ear to ear

“Good morning yourself, love” you added “How long have you been awake?” you said stretching

“Just for a while, I was too busy staring at the love of my life sleeping peacefully, I didn’t mean to wake you, but I couldn’t help myself” he said giving you a peek on the cheek

“I love you, honey” you said ruffling his silver hair “Are we meeting your parents later? I can’t wait to tell them the news” you added now caressing his face

“Indeed, we are meeting them for brunch, princess” he said taking your hand and kissing it

You spent most of the morning cuddling in bed, telling each other how lucky you were of being together and figuring out some wedding stuff. As you wanted something simple and intimate, just your parents, some friends and family, even although Draco grew with opulence and luxury, he was willing to give you anything you wanted to make your wedding day special, so when you said you wanted a little garden wedding, he pretty much agreed to anything you proposed. The day went by until you had to get ready for brunch, you took a shower together and got ready to leave for Malfoy Manor.

You arrived at Draco’s childhood home and were greeted by Narcissa with a tight hug.

“y/n, darling, I’m so happy to see you both” she said with a huge smile

“Hello Narcissa, I’m so happy to be here, as we come burring news” you said, and you couldn’t contain your excitement

“Hi mum, its great to be here” Draco added hugging his mother “I wanted to talk to you, well you and dad” he said looking for his father

“Yes, yes, he is coming, he just has to finish getting ready” Narcissa said nervously. You knew Narcissa loved you, but Lucius… he still had a hard time accepting your relationship. You were taken out of your thoughts by Lucius’ cane hitting the ground

“Good morning, Draco, y/n” he said a few steps from you

“Hello, father, I’m really glad we are all here together” Draco said a little nervous

“Hi Mister Malfoy” you said with a string of voice, even years after your relationship with Draco, you still couldn’t call him in a first name basis

You entered the dining room and brunch was already served. The four of you started eating and while you were pinching your waffles, Draco spoke:

“Mum, dad, I proposed to y/n” he said taking your hand with his eyes fixed on his dad

“Congratulations, my loves” Narcissa said standing up to hug you, you were waiting for Lucius to say something, but he just glared at your hands and kept eating

“Dad? Are you going to say anything?” Draco said a little annoyed

“It is unacceptable” Lucius said without looking at his son “I am not approving of you, a true pure blood, marring a half-blood and ruining our family legacy” he said and stoop up from his chair

“You are not going to stop me; I’ve made up my mind and I’m marring y/n” Draco said rising his voice and standing from his chair

“Just watch me, you stupid kid” Lucius growled

“I’m not going to watch anything because no matter what you do, you cannot stop me, I love her, she loves me and we are expecting” Draco said hugging you and Narcissa “I am marrying y/n with or without your support, I already talked to mum and her blessing is all I need” he added

Lucius stormed out of the dining room and with teary eyes, Draco turned to you

“I’m so sorry, princess” he said forcing a smile

“I really want to apologize for my husband, he… he just needs time to adjust to the news” Narcissa added shyly

“It’s okay, I… I know he didn’t mean any harm” you said hugging your fiancé

The tree of you spent the rest of the day talking about your wedding plans, about the baby and about your future together. You could see Draco was hurt, but he was stubborn on not giving his father the power to ruin the best day of his life.

After a couple of weeks full of love and wedding planning tasks, it was your big day. As you initially agreed, you had an intimate garden wedding with just family and friends. Narcissa and your mum helped you plan all the details, from dinner and flowers to the reception and cake. It was all perfect, well, almost perfect. Even although Lucius had been a jerk you knew deep down, Draco needed his father there, and you wished the letter you slipped into his mailbox telling him how much you loved his son and how happy you were together had at least moved a little something inside him.

“y/n? There is someone who’s here to see you” Narcisa said nervously taking you out of your thoughts. You left the bridal suite and you saw Lucius standing outside the door

“Good morning y/n” he said with a look of… Shame? Regret? You weren’t quite sure

“Hello Lucius” you said with a big smile taking a step closer to him

“I…I… I need to talk to you, to both of you, Draco and you, I mean” he muttered stumbling with his words

“Oh, okay, I think maybe my dad can fetch him” you said trying to break the tension and looking for your dad

“Indeed, he already went to look for him” he said barely looking at you in the eye

“What the hell are you doing here?” Draco said from behind you with anger in his eyes

“Draco, wait, let’s hear him out” you said standing in front of the love of your life

“What is that jerk going to say?” you finacé added angrily

“Thank you y/n, but he is right I was a jerk and I’m here to apologize” Lucius said “I want to be part of your wedding, and of your life, I want to be there for the little one and I… I want to make things right with you and your family y/n” he added, and you walked towards him and embraced him into a hug

“We forgive you, Mister Malfoy, after all, we are a family, or we are about to be” you said moving so Draco could come closer

“It’s not going to be that easy” he said taking a step towards his father

“I swear I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up for the two of you” Lucius added nervously… almost afraid of Draco’s response

“You can start by staying at the wedding, we would be thrilled to have you” you said reaching to Draco, so he could come closer to his dad

“I’ll gladly stay if you have me” Lucius said stepping closer to Draco. You looked at your fiancé and nodded, giving him a sign to hug his father, and so he did. Now you were ready for your fairytale intimate garden wedding

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hobidreams · 3 years

Text

may 1869.

just this once, you let yourself be a little braver.

pairing: joseon king!yoongi x reader genre: smut, angst, fluff? words: 1.4k contains: someone new, something new.

moonlit throne index. this is drabble 20. start from the beginning?

A balmy wind drifts through the open window of your bedchamber, making ripples upon the freshly made spread. You stand in sunlight before the mirror, tracing the faint remnant of the bruise on your collarbone, left by the king’s hungry mouth too many nights before, and wish absently that the mark will stay for at least a few hours more.

As the days grow longer, his visits have become far less frequent, though the minutes he spends indulging in your heat seem to extend ever so slightly in turn. The explanation that leaves your heart intact is that he is occupied by overseeing the administration and results of the national civil exam, the gwageo that took place a few days ago and will bring a new group of eager scholars into the palace. You try very hard not to think about the possibility of his finding his way to another woman’s bed, even though he is well within his rights to. Even though it is expected of a king to have handfuls of consorts in his court. He has, thankfully, spared you of such truths, like he continues to spare you of any details about his life. Theoretically, that makes it easier to not get so attached. Theoretically.

With an exhale, you re-adjust the collar of your blouse to hide the mark and put on your hat before stepping out into the sun, holding a book that you intend to return to the king’s library.

As you walk towards the building, you soon realize there’s a man you’ve never seen before in green scholar’s robes in front of the shuttered doors, pacing back and forth as the dark samo on his head bobs from the effort. What’s he doing? While people may pass by here, they rarely linger.

When the man spots you, his gaze seems to brighten. “Excuse me, uinyeo-nim!”

You come to a stop before him, taking in the wane of his eyes that are like friendly crescents. “Good morning. How may I help you, Scholar…?”

“Park.” He smiles. “I’m one of the newly admitted scholars.”

“Scholar Park. Congratulations on passing the exam.” You return his smile with a small one of your own though you remain on your guard, no matter how kind he seems. Most of the current scholars treat you with disdain (though they at least attempt to veil it on the king’s account, you are certain), as you are a woman and thus beneath them, no matter if the texts you’ve read could rival theirs. This Park must be brilliant though, if he passed the rigorous exam at such a young age.

“Thank you. I’m excited to begin my work! But…” He bites his lip. “The head scholar asked me to obtain a copy of Bang Si-Hyuk’s latest text, and the royal library said that only the king has a copy…” His expressive face falls and you, with a twinge of endearment, think he might be an awful liar if he ever tried. “Would you happen to know how I might borrow from the private library? Should I request an audience with the king? Are there official forms to follow? I really don’t wish to misstep.”

You stare at him quietly, contemplating whether or not you should reveal that you have such access.

He nervously seems to take your lack of answer as confusion. “Yes, I am aware that I should have asked my fellow scholars but they are all so much older than me and I’m afraid that they will take me less seriously than they already do if I cannot complete such a simple task on my own... But no one else has walked by here and I do not want to go back empty-handed and…” He trails off, giving you a look of absolute desperation that warms your heart, despite your reservations.

“Scholar Park. I can retrieve the book for you, if you promise to return it within a few days.” The king wouldn’t notice that it’s missing anyhow, not with how busy he’s been. That, and you get the feeling that the older scholars have been playing a bit of an initiation joke on this poor boy.

“Really? You will? Thank you, uinyeo-nim!” He breaks into a huge grin. “Oh, but uinyeo-nim, how do you have access to the king’s libra…”

You can practically see the moment it clicks in his mind that you are that physician, the one who’s name is irrevocably tangled up with the king’s.

It seems palace gossip is not exempt even from those who have only entered the grounds the day before. You can literally feel the turmoil going on within him as he tries to figure out how to address you, whether or not he should give you the respect of the king’s consort even though you are technically not one in the slightest. Just a lowborn, a hole, even a witch doctor that has bewitched jeonha, as those less polite than this boy have put it when they thought you were out of earshot.

“Hm?” You prompt like a masochist, wanting to see what he says. Wanting to see if it’ll hurt you some more, or if you’ve finally gone blissfully numb.

“N-Nothing, uinyeo-nim.”

You were right. He’s an awful liar.

But you get the book for him anyway, and see him off with promises to meet you back here two days later for the return. Your reality is none of his fault, after all.

That night, the king drops by with little decorum. Opens the door to your chambers and strips off his robes, like he always does. Though this time as he kneads your bare chest in his calloused fingers, pinching the peaked nipples so hard you whimper, you are filled with a need for some scrap of certainty. You want to wipe that coolness from his eyes for even one second, to stoke some intimate fire from him that says he still remembers how you used to be together. How it used to be easier than this. Closer, even though now you know how thick his cock feels as he robs you of air.

“You—ah—you’ve been busy, jeonha?” It’s been getting marginally easier to talk to him like this in the moonlight, his hands making a mess of you. “It’s been quite some time since you’ve come.”

“What, are you that needy for a fuck?” He smirks, but it’s a look more dark and dangerous than playful as he reaches down and finds you soaked. You think you feel the ghost of that word lingering around his question, but it is a small blessing that has not said it aloud since that night in April.

Your face flushes hot. “I-I was just wondering…” You shouldn’t mention it. You really should hold your tongue, but you’re sick of being trapped in your own mind, going in circles with your own insecurity. Just this once. Just this once you want to let yourself ask— “I thought… That perhaps you had taken another conso—oh!” You’re cut off by an abrupt inhale as he sinks two nimble fingers into your cunt. One smooth stroke takes him so deep, only for him to pull out to use the translucent wetness he’s gathered as lubricant along his shaft.

“You think I have time for other women?” He snaps. His stare is intense, but you can’t see a single lie in their depths. “Never have.”

Then he takes you so roughly, you think the bed might break from all the rattling. You have to blink away white spots in your vision when you come and he doesn’t say much more to you for the rest of the night, but you’re smiling almost deliriously all the way through with your nails scratching faint red down his back, the bracelet he gave you dragging over his skin from its home on your wrist. Never, your mind echoes, again and again.

Against all the odds. Against anything you would have expected. Even if he keeps you at arm’s length to the thoughts in his heart, it’s still the chance three-step skip of a grey stone across a rippling pond.

You’re the only one.

a/n: wow. drabble 20. it’s taken us half a year to get here & it honestly feels like a dream that i’ve made it this far. yet there is still so much on the line. so much further to travel together. thank you, if you’ve been here since the beginning. thank you, if you’re just picking up the series 💜 please do come let me know your thoughts on the series as we slide into the present time, with all the tension of the past lingering too closely by. i truly couldn’t have gotten here without all your support ♡

#ficswithluv #bts smut #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #historical au #moonlit throne #rain writes #how are we feeling about the new scholar? ✨

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kast43 · 3 years

Text

[May contain angst, contains mild violence, a total fake scenario because DIOVOLO WOULD NEVER ALLOW this to happen]

For a few weeks now, some witches were giving MC a hard time. MC didn't quite understand why, but if they had to guess it was because of their living arrangement. MC never paid it any mind until one night when they were walking to the House of Lamentation after some errands alone. MC was jumped by 3 of them and roughed up a bit. One witch was so annoyed with MC's demeanor that they went too far and broke MC's arm. MC, not wanting any more trouble would decide to go to Purgatory Hall and ask for help.

💋Lucifer💋

-He got a phone call from Simeon, stating that they had to take MC for medical care for a broken arm.

-Didnt even give an explanation where he was going, but he rushed out of the house to be with MC.

-Was a composed mess; he was worried, angry and protective of MC.

-when questioned about how it happened, MC lied and he knew it.

-"Oh I just tripped and fell on my arm is all." Was not the explanation he believed.

-why would MC lie about this? He had to know.

-he would ask maybe a few more times then left MC alone. He knew he could find out more on his own anyways.

-as far as aiding MC, a perfect gentleman.

-Opens doors, holds bags, even does MC's chores if they were struggling.

-He felt so guilty for this that he would not leave MC's side for a minute...but it would be more comforting than overstepping.

-would be the one to make sure MC did everything they had to heal.

-"Don't forget to take your medicine. Do you need some water? Let me get it."

-"You are not suppose to prop anything on that arm...let me hold it."

-Would stop the brothers dead in their tracks if they tried to do anything that would require MC to do anything physical.

-He would be the type to not actually sign MC's cast, but he would wait until they were alone and draw a little heart in a place only MC could see

-He also low key had been suspicious about what happened and follows MC around to "observe".

-When he does find out what happens....well let's just say those who wronged MC will regret it deeply.

💰Mammon💰

-He might have been out gambling or something when he got the call about MC.

-run boy run

-His first reaction would be frustration of course

-"How could you let this happen??? Humans are too fragile and you need to be more careful!"

-would have never crossed his mind that MC lied about it.

-MC falls a lot, story checks out in his mind.

-Feral Protection Goblin.

-He refused to leave MC's side even for a second.

-He would carry bags and open doors, but Mammon being himself would do it in a very feral goblin way

-VERY protective. Like, No one was allowed to even look at MC without himself shooting a glare back.

-more worried about MC than what was going on around him.

-Absolutly the one to forget about meds

-signs his name IN BIG LETTERS on MC's cast

-May God have mercy on those witches that did this to MC when Mammon finds out what really happened.

🎮Leviathan🎮

-Most likely ignored Simeon's call, but would read his text.

-He does not like to leave his room often, but he will go to pick MC up with little hesitation.

-he will asked what happened, but ultimately he does not care since he can't stop it now.

-poor thing would be too scared to touch MC TBH.

-this reminds him how delicate humans were and he didn't want to make things worse.

-he would be more clingy without making contact.

-for the most part he did anything MC asked, only if they asked tho.

-was actually stoked that MC could actually spend time playing games or watching anime with him since they could not do too much physical labor.

-he would enjoy having quality time like this, but be upset it had to be this way.

-"It's annoying that you can only play games with me when you break a bone. You can come anytime you want you know."

-He would be the first one to sign the cast. Who knows, he might just doodle all over it

-lets say he overheard someone bragging about what they did to MC [since he is the quiet one no demon suspects him to be listening]

-he finds out what really happened...big mad

-seconds from summoning Lotan in the school

-then he finds out *who* did it

-pays each witch involved a visit and summons Lotan in each home

📚Satan📚

•he was simply reading when he got the call

•there he go, faster than light

•he would greet MC with in interrogation

•"MC what happened?"

•"Did someone do this to you?"

•"Where/when did this happen?"

•"You are FAR from 'okay'!"

•MC would just dodge any question regarding what had happened...MC knew that Satan was too smart to fall for one of their lies

•Satan does not know much about broken human bones...but by the next morning he became an expert.

•He would go about this a lot like Lucifer, but in a more emotional way.

•Satan had become more protective of MC and refused to let them do anything too physical.

•he would follow MC around, making sure they did all the right things, carry bags, open doors, ya know the whole deal.

•took extra time with MC during study time and bed time.

•"I brought your meds...here is some water as well."

•med police

•would draw a cat on their cast

•He loves to read to MC as they fall asleep.

•if he were to find out what actually happened [which he would a lot faster than Lucifer btw] oh no

•oh no

•oh no no no no no

•might as well write those witches obituaries cuz THEY GONE

💋Asmodeus💋

•Picks the phone with Simeon and starts to flirt first off

•as mush as Simeon would love to entertain this, he let's Asmo know that MC had to be taken to get medical care

•Asmodeus rushes to go collect MC.

•he would understand MC was hurt, and at first he would play it off as shit just happens

•especially when MC lied about how it happened

•Honestly he would be low key scared and high key protective

•The one he loved the most [other than himself] was hurt!

•Obsessed with taking good care of MC.

•other than Lucifer, would be the best at making sure MC was taking good care of themselves to heal 🌟Beautifully🌟

•"MC~♡ let's take a break. Come and sit for a while"

•"use this lotion where you can reach, your skin will get dry under the cast"

•"don't forget your meds love, the sooner you heal the sooner we can be naughty~ 😈"

•this brother would be the most clingy out of all of them, but works out for MC.

•goes above and beyond holding doors and carrying bags...would escourt MC everywhere

•He does not only signs the cast, he glues a picture of himself on it

•MC would eventually tell Asmo what really happened...thinking they could trust Asmo not to loose his shit

•He looses his shit, but holds it together in front of MC

•the second he knows MC is asleep...he goes hunting for some naughty witches.

🍔Beelzebub🍔

•he was at practice when it happened, and missed the call

•MC ended in meeting him halfway home

•poor thing does not know what to do

•So sorry he missed the call

•the fact of the matter is, he trusts MC in what MC says happened.

•he was use to injuries with his workouts and sports...but MC was far too fragile...

•he would be the 'scary dog privilege' for MC

•He respects MC enough to give them space...but also watches MC like a hawk

•carries things for MC and refuses to take no for an anwser

•made sure MC was fed at ALL times.

•"Food always makes me feel better, so maybe you will get better if you eat"

•MC attaches themselves to Beelz instead of the other way around

•He would sign the cast, plain and simple. Mc would explain that he could add more if he wanted. [As evident from Mammon signing a new spot every day] so he would most likely draw food or something later on

•When Beelz finds out what truly happened, he would get upset...but not enough to do anything super harmful.

•he could go and eat all their food...or their homes. He would decide in the car.

🥱Belphagor🥱

•Again, Belphie is smarter than he lets on

•he would be aware of the bullies, but not the extent of what they would do

•most likely was asleep during the call

•would notice MC's long absence, then when MC did show up he was shocked.

•asking the usual questions, who what when where...MC would dodge them all.

•Belphie was suspicious

•Would be the most protective of MC, always be by MC's side

•but much like Beelz he would respect MC's space

•until he was sleepy that is

•would rest on MC anywhere and anytime

•would also be MC's 'scary dog' privilege, but shows dominance by laying in MC's lap

•MC didn't mind, they would play with Belphie's hair anyways

•he would doodle all over the cast, and if anything would sign his name under Mammon's every time he signed

•thrilled to bits at all the naps MC and him now have since MC was not allowed to do much.

•"Where do you want to nap today?"

•"MC why don't we go to the attic today, I happen to know Mammon is going get yelled at today...it won't be quiet for long"

•when he finally finds out what happened, and he will find out, he will not hold back

•where his twin would be passive, he would be aggressive...we can leave it at that

#obey me shall we date #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons #obey me

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malleux · 3 years

Text

☆ Day 3 - Prince Albedo ☆

-> albedo x fem!reader | royalty!au

-> fluff, comfort

-> warnings: minor injuries, minor cursing

-> “pick a prince” masterlist

a/n: god i’m sorry this is so late, y’all know ive been goin through it this week fr. also, does this au have running water? do they not? i don’t know so apologies for plot holes

edit sorry the taglist really messed up life is NOT going the way i need it to rn

“You need to take this a little more seriously, Y/n.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, looking up from your book at your father, who stood with his hands on his hips in front of you. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Your suitors have been here for three days now and I haven’t seen you with a single one of them. I’m giving you a choice on who you will marry, most princesses don’t get that luxury.”

“I didn’t ask to be married off to a stranger in the first place.” You huffed. “I also was with Prince Zhongli at the market, and I went stargazing with Prince Childe, so I havent’ been sitting there doing nothing. I’m at least trying to play along in your weird little game to sell me off.”

You father rolled his eyes. “You were taught since you were little that you’d need to marry someone to rule this kingdom. You knew this was coming. Now get up and do what you’re supposed to. Choose a suitor before I choose one for you.”

You watched as your father left, glaring at him from above your book. Who was he to suddenly barge in and tell you what to do? He acted like he was the king or something...

SIghing, you began reading again. You’d go find another boy after you finished. This book focused mainly on the various types of plants and herbs found in your kingdom, as well as their uses. It was one of the only informational books in the castle’s library that you hadn’t read yet, since you plans had been interrupted by a certain arranged marriage situation that’s been going on. You were about halfway through the section of a burn-treating herb when a flash of hair caught your eye. It happened so quickly that you nearly missed it, waving it off as a staff of the castle. But, none of the staff had platinum blonde hair...

“Hello? Do you need something?” You closed your book and stood up wearily, making your way to where you saw it.

“Um, no thank you, just searching for something...” A polite voice answered.

“Well, could I help you find it? I know this library like the back of my hand.”

At that, a head full of blonde popped out from around the corner of one of the bookshelves. HIs turquoise eyes glimmered at your offer. “Really? Thank you- I’ve been trying to create this little concoction for cold resistance and it’s missing something, I just don’t know what. The ingredients I use in my kingdom seem to be... lacking in yours.”

The moment the prince mentioned cold resistance, an idea popped into your head. “I was just reading a book that mentioned herbs that may help with that! Come with me prince... A-Alfred?”

“Albedo.”

“Come with me, Prince Albedo, I’ll show it to you!”

☆ ☆ ☆

You relaxed on the wooden stool in the kitchen, sitting beside Albedo. He was standing over a cutting board, pressing the flat side of a knife into the stems, leaves, and flower of a plant. You had helped him find this plant using the book you were reading, accompanying him into the forest on the outskirts of the kingdom to pick a few of them. It took hours- every time something new caught Albedo’s eye, he had to venture over to it and make a note to come back later and study it. In those hours, you began getting hungry. You’d skipped breakfast again this morning and your lack of food was making you feel a little weak. Nonetheless, you pushed on, interested in the work that Albedo was doing.

“Princess,” Albedo called, not looking up at you, “Can you please light the fire and get some water boiling? It’s the last little step to mix this all together.”

You nodded and grabbed a match, crouching down at the cooking pot across the room. Soon enough, the fire was lit and the water in the pot was starting to heat up. You stoked the fire a few more times before deciding to stand back up. Suddenly, your vision blacked out and your knees collapsed, forcing you back down onto the ground. You put your hands down in front to catch your fall, only registering that your right one swiped across the flames near you after it had happened. You hissed, in pain from the burn and from your dizziness.

Hearing the ruckus, Albedo turned around to see you crumbled on the floor, clutching your hand. “Princess!”

You smiled at him, holding back tears, trying not to worry the prince. “All good! Just, uh, lost my balance for a moment.”

“Bull.” He grabbed your wrist and helped you up, carefully avoiding the angry red burn on your hand as he pulled you towards the sink.

Placing your hand under the running water, Albedo told you to stay and began opening random drawers and cabinets, hoping to find bandages or herbs to help. You sniffled, holding your hand under the water and dreading the moment you had to take it out, knowing that the moment you did the burn would begin to ache once more. Albedo finally found a burn-healing salve in a container near the bottom shelves and quickly grabbed it, rushing over to you and opening the jar. He held his hand out.

“This will hurt when I’m putting it on, but it’ll feel so much better afterwards.” The prince searched your eyes, his own cloudy with worry as he waited for your “okay”. When you nodded, he began putting on the salve.

The next few minutes were silent as Albedo worked. He was focused on your hand occasionally mumbling something about how you should be more careful and whatnot, but you weren’t quite paying attention. You were practically captivated by the prince in close proximity, admiring him with little shame. Albedo’s features were borderline angelic. His hair rivaled the clouds that the gods resided amongst, and his eyes- oh my gods, his eyes- they took your breath away. Especially when he looked up into your own, his hands holding your injured one gently.

Neither of you looked away.

Albedo reached up and caressed his thumb across your cheekbone, murmuring a small “Don’t cry”. You felt chills erupt in his finger’s wake. You smiled.

“You made it all better.”

“I’m glad. I’ve never seen you hurt before, but after that I know I’d do everything in my power to never see you like that again.”

Your heart caught in your throat, and for the first time this week, you decided to be a little more serious about this whole love thing.

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#fic blog #x reader #fanfiction #writing #genshin impact #lay writes #genshin impact x reader #pick a prince #albedo #albedo x reader #albedo genshin impact #genshin albedo #event

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pretoriafics · 3 years

Text

If I wasn't a goddamn werewolf

I simply needed to do something with Talia. I think the pack dynamics would be so wonderful with her, with Laura, and with Cora. Should I do a part 2? Let me know <3

Talia just came back from the dead, and she is just trying to figure out what is happening with her son. But when she met you, everything becomes clear. Word count: 1.757 Pairings: Reader x Derek Contain: Pure angst!!; Derek being a dick; Warnings: English is not my main language <3 PART 2 TEEN WOLF MASTERLIST

Things were a true mess these days. The starting point was a resurrection. Nobody knew exactly how Talia arose from the dead, but everyone was trying to find out. Well, after so many years out of the Beacon Hills life, Talia was trying to fix in and absorb what had happened during the time she was dead. Peter had tried and failed to kill his daughter Laura, Cora comes back to the city, and the Hale's had rebuilt their pack with three new members: Boyd, Isaac, and Erica. Derek was happy with the presence of Talia - actually, everyone was - but as a mom, she knew something was pretty wrong. He was being a little bit... sad.

Talia caught Derek thoughtful during the night several times. Sometimes he just simply took his car and disappear. He was also taking time for himself, staying alone with his own thoughts. Talia just simply couldn't figure out what the hell was going on with her son. But when she has begun to think that maybe all of that was just something created inside of a mother's mind, she finds out about everything.

Talia, Derek, and Laura were doing some groceries at a supermarket. Talia and Laura were chatting about the city while taking a few things when suddenly, both of them heard a female voice greeting Derek in the corridor next to them.

"Hey, Derek."

It was you. Laura recognized your voice immediately. Talia's older daughter took her mom's wrist and took her to spy Derek, making a sign with her finger on her lips to her mom stay quiet. When Talia and Laura look at you and Derek, they notice all the signs of a couple in love. Your hearts were beating fast, and your eyes were shining like a thousand stars. You were pretty anxious, like a teenager talking for the first time with your crush. And your voice was so sweet... The air seems to completely disappear from Derek's lungs.

But despite all of the signs of love, Derek didn't reply to you. Actually, seems like the soft expression of love simply disappeared from his face - which was pretty severe and cold now. His facial expressions seem to let you even more anxious. You begun to regret to had the stupid idea to talk with him.

"Uh..." You started to talk, with his lack of answer "I..."

Without saying a word to you, Derek takes a can from the shelves and, simply, walks away from you. It was like you even weren't there. And, God, it broke your heart. Alone in the corridor and without becoming aware that you were being looked closely for Laura and Talia, you let escape a tear that ran through your face. Trying to compose yourself, you breathe in and swipe the tear away. You need to be strong.

When you just simply walk away from that corridor, Talia looks at Laura, pretty confused.

"Is that his ex?"

"No, she is just a girl he met. They started to become friends, but things evolved. Derek had decided to fell apart from her when Kate threatened to do something with her. You know, she was trying to manipulate him. But Derek thought that she would be safer without him. She doesn't know anything about supernatural, so..."

"It's dangerous for her."

"Exactly."

"How long ago did this happen?"

Laura drums her fingers on her chin, thoughtfully.

"I think it's been a year..."

"Oh, wow."

"Yeah, I know. You would love to meet her." Laura and Talia walk close to the candies session, looking at you. "Her name is (Y/N). She's a great girl."

"She seems like one."

Laura, Derek, and Talia were putting the groceries into the car - the place where Cora was waiting for her family. Talia was pretty thoughtful, thinking about the issue between you and Derek. Despite thinking that Derek did the right thing, she felt sad about the whole situation. It was pretty clear to her that Derek likes you a lot, and so do you.

Talia was torn from your thoughts when she listened to Cora's voice.

"Oh, I didn't saw her coming into the market."

Derek arches his eyebrows at his sister, walking in the driver's seat direction.

"Who?"

Cora indicates you with a nod in her head, and Derek's sight runs in your direction. Now Derek was looking at you for a distance he could saw you properly. Damn, you were so beautiful... He was pretty sure you did something with your hair, who made you more beautiful than ever. His heart began to race, and his face softened. You were like a sedative for him, with the power to take all of his angry away.

Unless you were next to another guy. In this case, you would stoke his fury just like the gasoline feeds fire. That was the case now.

You were walking in a man's direction, close to an expensive car. Despite being upset and heartbroken, you forced a smile on him, and he gave you a soft and slow kiss. Derek's chest vibrated in a low and threatening roar.

Laura looks at Cora.

"Who's that guy?"

"Well, he's her boyfriend. They're together a few months."

"He's hot. And seems like he's rich too."

Yeah, he was perfect. Derek didn't hate him just because he's the one who touches you now. Derek hates him because that guy was perfect, and better than him in so many aspects. He was rich, handsome, and a perfect gentleman. And he has you.

Oh, God... Derek wants so much for being under his skin for one day... Derek could simply forget all the supernatural bullshit and stay with you without worries. Damn, he wants so much to touch you again and kiss you again. He wants so much to say to you how beautiful you were with whatever you did with your hair, how you smell good, and how sorry he is for hurting you because he would never do that if it weren't for your own good.

If Derek wasn't a goddamn werewolf, he could take that vacation on Hawaii with you that you wanted so much. If he wasn't a goddamn werewolf, he could wake up by your side in the morning - something he never was able to do because of all the supernatural crap in the city. Derek could wake you up with kisses and breakfast in the bed too. If he wasn't a goddamn werewolf, he would take you to live with him on his loft. You would never cry of sadness, just of happiness.

If he wasn't a goddamn werewolf, Derek would give you a ring and would ask if you want to be Mrs. Hale.

Instead of all of it, Derek was forced to broke your heart for your own protection. He was forced to tell you not to talk with him anymore because he never felt anything for you. You were nothing more than a one-night stand, his little toy.

Derek remembers that day like it was yesterday. You were crying like never before while you listened to his sharp words.

"What do I did with you that made you thought you were so special?"

"You are nothing to me."

"I just wanted some fun. You can't blame me."

"Stop acting like a stuping teenager in love!"

It was hurtful to say those words to you. None of them were true. Derek just wanted you to hate him as much as someone could hate. With it, you would stay away from him and all of the danger. In fact, you said that night those three words he wanted you to tell him.

"I hate you!" You yelled, with your face wet in tears. "You are the biggest mistake I could ever make in my entire life!"

Despite saying horrible things to you that had hurt Derek as hell, your words hurt as much as his own. But even with all the emotions conflicting inside himself, Derek even could hear your heartbeat failing. It was the sound of your lie.

Despite all of that, you didn't hate him. You didn't think he was the biggest mistake of your like.

That broke him even more.

Derek just wants to feel you in his arms again and say to you how much he loves you - because, yeah, he really loves you, and he really thinks you are the one. Instead of it, he gives up on your love to keep you alive and safe.

Suddenly, Derek listens to your boyfriend talk with you. He was still with his face close to yours.

"I'm so lucky to have you as my girl." Your boyfriend smiles at you "I love you."

Your heart ached one more time that day. Oh, if those words were from Derek's mouth... But no, you think he hates you. Determined to move on and forget about Hale, you force a smile on your boyfriend.

"I love you too."

Your heartbeat sound failed, and the Hale family on another side of the parking lot could hear your lie. You didn't love your boyfriend but, oh, you really wish you could. He was perfect.

However, you always thought about how boring perfection was and, actually, you would love to be imperfect with Derek.

Your boyfriend gives you a sweet smile and gets into his expensive car. You walk towards the passenger's seat door and, before getting into the car, you look in Derek's direction.

He was looking at you with those beautiful and glacial green eyes. It was pretty hard to pretend he didn't love you because he does so much. While Talia was watching the entire situation, she noticed that yours and Derek's eyes were yelling a silent, dangerous, and forbidden I love you - the one who could let anyone with no air in their lungs.

Then, you breathe in, trying to contain yourself. You got into the car and, then, you and your boyfriend were leaving the parking lot and Derek's sight. If getting away from him and being in another man's arms meant you were safe, then Derek could handle it. However, after looking at the whole situation, Talia was not well with it. Well, Laura and Cora weren't either. They knew about his brother's sincere feelings, and Talia knew it that moment either. The gears inside her brain were already working to find a solution for all of that.

Derek, however, could only think of how much you would never really be his.

#teen wolf imagine #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf fanfics #teen wolf fics #teen wolf fanfic #derek hale imagine #derek hale imagines #derek hale x reader #derek hale fanfics #derek hale x you #derek hale x y/n #derek hale fic #derek hale fics #derek hale fanfic #derek hale fanfiction #derek hale fanfictions

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wri0thesley · 3 years

Note

I can’t decide whether I want adorable fluffy wholesome Polnareff content or filthy raunchy depraved Polnareff content

(Your blog is fantastic btw! Thanks for taking requests)

a combination of cute fluffy headcanons and filthy headcanons, anon! feel free to request next time i’m open if your mind lets you be a little more definitive on what you want!

(breeding kink n public play warning!)

FLUFF

Polnareff is a romantic at heart. He might seem kind of blustering, he might act like he gets all of the people he wants at a snap of his fingers - but actually, inside, he’s soft and gooey and he falls for people like tumbling down a bottomless well. He watches and moons over people he thinks are cute. He imagines kissing them and has to stop his skin - already so pale and prone to showing every emotion he has - flushing crimson.

Once you and he are official, he can’t keep his hands off you. Not in that way (that comes later) - but he wants to touch you at every single opportunity. He wants to wrap his arms around your waist and rest his chin on your shoulder. He wants to pepper your cheeks with kisses and tangle his fingers in your hair. He wants you on his lap (and he’ll sit on your lap too, if you’ll let him!). He wants to hold your hand and be affectionate in public so everybody knows exactly what the nature of your relationship is. In some ways, he’s like a needy puppy dog, who just wants to be constantly reassured that you want him by him petting you.

Prone to big shows of how much he loves you; the kind of man who makes grand gestures. This mellows somewhat with age - at least, the idea of ‘public’ gestures does. Younger Polnareff brings you huge bouquets of roses to dates, and wants to sweep you away on a white horse. You never know if you’re going to come to a restaurant and find he has booked out the whole place and filled every surface with candles. Older Polnareff is still prone to romantic outbursts, but he’s more likely to do them at home.

Sentimental. He keeps trinkets from your dates; he has albums full of photographs of you. It doesn’t matter if you don’t like how you look in them yourself, because whenever Polnareff looks at you he sees only your good qualities. He has flash drives full of them, too - he often uses his abilities with electronics and computers to do things like make you programs that tell you how much he loves you today, sends you automatic ‘good morning beautiful’ and ‘goodnight beautiful’ emails. He’s the kind of person who really makes the most of his talents.

A big cuddler. He’s very lazy early in the morning, so expect to have his body wrapped around you as he cuddles up to you and whines that you should stay in bed. Leeches your warmth and kisses you and snuggles even when he’s asleep.

Not a particularly good cook (the French may yet excommunicate him), but he will try and do anything for you. He takes the phrase ‘knight in shining armour’ to extremes - you might have to gently remind him that actually, you’re capable (and enjoy!) doing some things yourself. He’ll pout if you send him away, so you and he definitely take up hobbies like cooking and making things together. He’ll try anything once!

Once you’ve been dating a while, some of his shyness will melt away, and he will become prone to not only making grand gestures, but also grand proclamations of how much he loves you. Secretly enjoys romantic poetry and overtly sappy movies; and you can tell that, based just on how he speaks to you about his everlasting adoration for every part of you.

FILTH

Has a thing for lingerie. The frillier and more ‘feminine’ (no matter what your particular gender identity may be), the better. There’s something about seeing the person he adored all caught up in delicately spun lace and smooth satin that really gets him going. He’ll buy you them, but if you really want to surprise him, wear it when he’s least expecting it. Put it on under boring clothes and sit on his lap and let him get a glimpse. He won’t know how to control himself.

Oh, and he’ll wear it for you too, of course. He’ll blush and be a little awkward about it, but the minute he’s got it on, stretching over his broad chest, barely containing his half-hard cock . . . he’s whining for you to touch him. Loves being petted through the fabric.

Switch, but sub-leaning. He loves it when you tell him what to do. He doesn’t respond well at all to degradation, but being praised and called a good boy does something to him that he can’t explain. If you tell him to get on his knees and play with his hair and sweetly order him to bury his head between your thighs, he’s going to obey.

Praise kink. Praise kink, praise kink. Not only when he’s subbing for you (though sometimes you can literally feel him twitch when you tell him what a good job he’s doing if you’re touching him), but he wants you to tell him how good he feels and how big he is and how much you adore him even when he’s taking the more dominant role in bed.

Young Polnareff has a bit of a thing for doing it in public. Especially in bathrooms; perhaps it’s all of that repressed trauma about them from the Egypt trip? Whatever it is, if you let him know you’re not wearing underwear when you’re out on a date, expect to later on be bent double over a sink in a bathroom stall as he goes absolutely feral on your body. Older Polnareff has mostly gone off this (he feels too conspicuous, in his wheelchair, knowing how many people are after him) - but the idea of you being a bit of an exhibitionist will still get him going. You’ll still get your ass pinched and spanked if you come too close, and if he’s really feeling mean, you might feel fingers delve between your legs to tease you some more.

Breeding kink. He wants a big family, and he wants it with you - he wants to fill you up and see his come oozing out of you! He’s pretty big and hard and muscled so he likes the softest parts of you, and he knows you’d get even softer. Not to mention the primal part of his jealous nature that’s stoked a bit when he sees you covered in his release.

Really, really sensitive chest. Lick and bite his nipples, suck on them, kiss them, scratch your nails down them - honestly, if you spent long enough doing that he’d probably come in his pants.

#not sfw #jojo headcanons #jjba x reader #polnareff x reader #jean pierre polnareff #breeding kink for ts #public play for ts #Anonymous

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wangxianficrecs · 3 years

Photo

Follower Recs

There are nearly FORTY THOUSAND AO3 stories in the MDZS universe, and I am just a single person with limited time, so.... Here’s a bit of y’all doing my work for me!

~*~

Mojo, I know it'd probably be recced before, but I have to recommend stiltonbasket's Twelve Moons and a Fortnight. It has made me squee of cuteness, hold my breath with suspense, marvel over the worldbuilding and character interactions, and just awed me at how well every original piece of lore and HC ties back to canon. I cried over it, only to cry laughing the next chapter. it kept me going through an entire year of lockdown and is finally coming to an end, and the resolution was magnificent.

*[I’m subscribed to this and keep waiting for Part One to be completed, but instead later parts keep getting posted: is it completed but not marked? I am confused. And eager to read!]*

Twelve Moons and a Fortnight

by stiltonbasket (G, 267k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary: "Let me get this straight. You really want me to stand in for you while you help Jin Ling settle in at Koi Tower?"

"Who else do I have?" Jiang Cheng snaps, ears turning scarlet as Jin Ling tries to pretend he isn't listening. "Father trained you to serve as my deputy, didn't he? And don't say you don't remember, or I'll break your legs."

"Well, yes," Wei Wuxian manages. "Uh. I'll just let Lan Zhan know I'll be at Lotus Pier until you're back at home, then."

Or, the one where Wei Wuxian spends the year before his wedding as Yunmeng Jiang's acting sect leader, and the cultivation world's greatest love story finds its happy ending with the help of three juniors, a teenage romance, and one very involved (and exasperated) younger brother.

~*~

May I recommend fielty by milkpunch a sort of AU where lwj in order to save his sect from being destroyed by nine after wen rouhans assasination goes to work as a guard to Jin zixuan where he meets wwx the right hand of Jin guanguao... ~ @pastashouldbeeatenwithafork

Fealty

by milkpunch (E, 84k, wangxian)

Summary: Before, there had been two reigning kingdoms. Both claimed to be blessed by the sun, but with vastly differing views. One, under the name of Wen, was washed red with blood and violence, its soldiers fierce and stoked with a fiery blaze. The other, under the name of Jin, was bathed in golden light and glory, its soldiers proud and heavy with coin and prestige. The two kingdoms went to war for the true honour of having the sun’s blessing, fighting for many long years with many lives lost.

Jin Guangshan, emperor of the Golden Sun Palace, found that the sun favoured him more.

To prevent his kingdom from being crushed, Lan Zhan, second heir to the Lan kingdom, exchanges his freedom for that of servitude to the Jin kingdom. He is appointed as Jin Zixuan's personal guard, but there's more on his plate than just keeping the Jin heir safe. The Golden Sun Palace is not all that it seems, and the dazzling lives of the royals are less perfect than they appear.

~*~

Hey, I was wondering if I could rec a fic to you. My bestie wrote it for the Lunar New Year Wangxian gift exchange and it definitely did not receive the attention it deserves. It's a really fun mermaid/arranged marriage au! ~ @leahlisabeth

More Than This Provincial Wife

by ApprenticedMagician (T, 6k, wangxian)

Summary: The negotiations surrounding the Lan & Jiang alliance through marriage encountered a few snags in the beginning.

~*~

I love your blog! I saw a recent post where you listed some rec's from other people? [Thank you! And yes, I always appreciate and am happy to share your recs!] I just read the WIP A Corpse Called By Name jaemyun and LOVED it! It's a zombie apocolypse AU, where Wei Ying gets bitten by a zombie.... and I don't want to spoil anything from there, but it is amazing! No pressure to put it in your blog, but wanted to send a note just in case. Thanks for all you do!

A Corpse Called By Name

by jaemyun (not rated, 37k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary: A continuation of zombie drabble!

She loses her brother in a hoard of the undead.

She finds a corpse wearing his face in a convenience store.

The corpse calls her name.

~*~

Hi! I was wondering if I could rec this short fic that I recently found and really liked! The narrative is an inner monologue and I think it captures lwj really well :)

binding me in spells (till my heart's devoured)

by gaysgaysgays (G, <1k, wangxian)

Summary: His scars are a reminder of his hurt, a reminder that he had healed.

(or a study of lan zhan's scars)

~*~

I found a fic I had recently asked you about, so I thought I'd share it with you: Seasons of Falling Flowers by merakily (http://archiveofourown.org/works/28522326). I rediscovered it completely by accident after listening to spinifex's excellent podfic adaptation. This is the fic where Lan Qiren despises Wei Wuxian until Wei Wuxian catches a cold and Lan Qiren find out about his golden core. That part is about 3/4 of the way through. The fic is wonderful and shows a rigid but surprisingly introspective Lan Qiren. ~ @clmoryel [Oh! I just read this one yesterday! Here’s my bookmark.]

Seasons of Falling Flowers

by merakily (G, 40k, wangxian, lan qiren & wei wuxian, podfic)

Summary: Like a parasite, Wei Wuxian has this way of growing on people when you least expect it.

Over the seasons, Lan Qiren slowly pieces back together his relationship with Wangji and learns to like Wei Wuxian in the process.

(“Will you rejoin your sect?” As soon as the words leave his mouth, Lan Qiren regrets his wording.

He is not surprised when Wangji’s eyes narrow, flashing with offence. “There is no need to rejoin what one has never left. I did not turn my back on my sect. My sect turned their backs on me.”)

~*~

Hi! Can I rec a fic? "bring you home" by Alasse_Irena on AO3 is a modern AU and is one of the most beautiful and atmospheric fics I have read. Thanks for you work running this blog! I have new Wangxian fics to read <3

bring you home

by Alasse_Irena (T, 28k, wangxian)

Summary: Wei Ying rents a run-down cottage in a small town by the sea, looking for a quiet place to hide after the war.

Lan Zhan has always dreamed of the ocean. He returns to the town where he was born, and where his parents died, to find out why.

Instead, they find each other.

~*~

Good morning lady mojo, I hope you’re having a good day! I wanted to rec a fic, Breathing Firestorm by ladyshadowdrake. It’s 111k and great but barely has any love, which is unfair. You mentioned it in the last ‘in a mood for’ post but I think it should have more of a shoutout because it’s a lot of fun and I liked it a lot. Have a great day ♥️ [Oh! I was subscribed to this one and saw it had been recently finished. It’s def. on my list!]

Breathing Firestorm

by ladyshadowdrake (M, 111k, wangxian)

Summary: After years of a mad quest, Wen Ruohan is finally given proof of a powerful creature living among mortals. He is delighted to find that it truly believes itself to be only a boy named “Wei Wuxian.”

While Wen Ruohan tries to unlock Wei Wuxian’s secret, the sects unite against him. If he can achieve his goal before they arrive, even the combined might of the cultivation world would not be enough to humble him. Meanwhile, Lan Wangji dreams of Wei Wuxian in the Cold Pond Cave, and works tirelessly to rescue him from Wen Ruohan’s clutches. No one is prepared for what awaits the allied sects in Nightless City at the conclusion of the war, and it very well might mean the end of the world as they know it.

~*~

Hi Mojo, firstly thank you for all the hard work you put into running this blog, I’ve found so many fics that I probably would have never come across if it wasn’t for your fic finders posts and your personal review posts. [Aw, thank you!]

I don’t know if you’ve read this fic before or if it’s been mentioned before on your blog (I’ve done a quick search of your blog and couldn’t see it, so if I’ve missed it I apologise!) but if you’ve got a fic rec post coming up, I would suggest “The shapes a bright container can contain” by litbynosun.

It’s a case fic about 16k words long and set after canon. Whilst it’s not the main focus of the story it does delve slightly into chronic illness of wwx (the ailments of mxy’s body) and lwj (his continuous treatment of his scars) which might cover a few requests in the IITMF posts in future.

Thanks again for all the hard work you do! ~ @dulachodladh

the shapes a bright container can contain

by litbynosun

M, 17k, wangxian

Summary: "Lan Zhan, look at this," Wei Wuxian calls. "They don't have organs, but they're all… fuzzy."

He gently strokes the corpse's arm -- it's covered in soft, pigmentless downy hair, like a rabbit. Lan Wangji crouches next to him and nods. "Lanugo," he says. Wei Wuxian raises one eyebrow. "They were malnourished for quite a while before death," Lan Wangji elaborates. Wei Wuxian scans the bodies again. Indeed, they both have sunken cheeks, and their abdomens are empty of both organs and fat padding. “That’s a question,” he says. “Did they starve to death, and have their bodies desecrated after they were already deceased? Or were they murdered, and simply starving at the same time?” "We should stay," Lan Wangji tells him. This is not an answer to his question. It is an offer to search for answers.

Or: Wei Wuxian and his family solve a ghost haunting. Wei Wuxain's old enemy, societal injustice, rears its head again.

#follower rec #wangxian fic rec #I HAVEN'T READ THESE YET #wangxian #mdzs

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wyn-n-tonic · 3 years

Text

Same Time, Same Place -- Part III

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader Word Count: 1.2k Warnings: None? Author's Note: It's taken me so painfully long to get this to you all, I'm so sorry. I'm not the most stoked about it but I needed to get this out. I also think that this is a good place for it to rest on. I don't know if the story is done but I do know that I've been stressing myself out about updating this and it's causing me to falter and not be able to produce what I feel is the best update I can. Thank you so much for reading!

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST SIGN-UP | PREVIOUS | NEXT

“He kissed you in a chicken coop,” Becca says slowly, “and then you shared leftover enchiladas?”

“It was nice,” you tell her, “he was going to make me a steak but after petting the damn cow, I couldn’t do it.”

“Jesus Christ,” you can hear the roll in her eyes, “you pet a cow too? He’s really giving you the Texas treatment.”

“It was nice!”

“Fucking city girl,” she laughs, “was the sex good?”

You stop your pacing back and forth, “we, uh—“

“You didn’t have sex with him?!”

“No, it was just a lot of kissing,” you say, “and laughing. He let me name the chickens.”

“That's so strange.”

Nerves pool in your belly, an anxiety you haven’t felt since college, “what’s strange?”

“Just that he…” she pauses, clearly thinking of how to phrase it, “invites you to his ranch while his dad is away after being incredibly flirty and suggestive with you for weeks, kisses you in a goddamn chicken coop like this is a high school kegger, feeds you fucking leftovers and then doesn’t even fuck you.”

“He’s a gentleman, Bec."

“This is Laredo,” she takes on a tone now, “there are no gentlemen in Laredo.”

You turn, catching sight of the oven timer counting closer down to alarm and steady your newfound insecurity long enough to say your goodbye. —————

“Nirvana, they’re grunge,” you say incredulously, “you don’t know what grunge is?”

Javi is two banana nut muffins deep into this morning, eating like he hasn’t in days, and he laughs around a bite right in your face.

“No,” he covers his mouth, “but whatever the fuck it is, it sounds like it needs a bath.”

At that, Chucho excuses himself to find a bathroom, having partaken in most of the coffee you brought along this morning and the air shifts in his absence, that insecurity coming back to you now.

“Can I—“

“Javi—“

He laughs, gesturing for you to go first as you gesture the same to him, begging him to take the lead in this.

“Panaderita,” his tone stern, “ladies first.”

You tuck your bottom lip beneath your teeth, pulling on it as your nerves start to get to you. As you serve for the words you felt on the tip of your tongue only moments ago.

He lifts his eyebrows looking down at you and you try to hold back a giggle when you notice the crumb in his mustache.

“I'm waiting.”

“Did I—“ you take a deep breath, “—do something wrong?”

Confusion marks his face as his hands cage around your arms, one for each, “why would you think you did something wrong?”

You shake your head, that insecurity melting away, “it’s nothing, Becca just got in my head, please say what you were going to say.”

“What'd she get in your head about?”

He pushes your hair out of the way, his eyes heavy behind the aviators perched on his nose. He’s concerned.

“I was talking to her about last Saturday and how we hadn’t really talked since then and she asked if we slept together and I’m…” you exhale, your lungs finally free of their vice, “not really used to men not trying to get into my pants first thing.”

Smiling, “can I take you out?”

“I—yes.”

“Yeah?”

You nod your head, “are you going to try to get into my pants?”

He runs his hand through his hair, “look, I haven’t dated in a really long time, let me take you on a proper one not surrounded by cow shit.”

He leans down, a breath away from you when you say, “yes,” and catches your lips with his. His mustache is a tickle against your skin, the coarseness a sharp contrast to the soft curls you acquainted yourself with last week. —————

“What’s behind your back, Jav?”

You followed the directions he gave you perfectly and parking your car next to his pick-up back up on the road. It’s been twenty feet of walking and there he is, standing broad against the backdrop of the sun.

“Get over here,” he calls out, “and I’ll show you.”

He insisted you make a cake for him again but not something you think he wants this time. Nothing fancy. Javi requested your favorite and it just so happened to be the simplest in your Arsenal; strawberry with the thinnest layer of cream cheese icing you could manage.

“That looks delicious,” he eyes the clear container in your hands as you draw closer, leaning down for a kiss, “can’t wait to taste that one.”

“What happened to blaming me for making you fat?”

“Eh, old men get fat.”

“You’re not old, Javier, your knees still work,” you whisper, “now what’s behind your back?”

He cups your head in one of his hands and kisses you slowly. When he pulls away, he takes the container from your grip and presses flowers back into it. Yellow, pulled straight from the ground.

“Noticed you didn’t get any yesterday so I grabbed these,” he grabs at the rough ends of the small bouquet, “literally.”

“I love them,” you say, “they're my favorite color.”

“I figured,” he says, stepping to the side and bending to set the cake down.

In front of you is a blanket spread out in the grass of the small field, a pizza box resting in the middle and a bottle of wine.

He reaches his hand out, beckoning you to join him, “I told you I’m not very good at this dating thing but I did remember you like pepperoni.”

“I don’t know,” you take your spot next to him, “this is really nice.”

For hours, you sit there in the late sun of the early evening, talking and listening to the crickets come out.

You tell him about how the noise of the city just got to you, pressed in on you and you needed a fresh start. Quiet to hear your own voice and feel yourself for once and so you came to Texas.

Told him how Becca was your college roommate and helped you get set up, find your apartment and get a job.

“Do you like the job?”

“It pays the bills.”

“I think you could open up a bakery,” he says. His long body is stretched out now and he presses his head back into his hands, “I think you’d do really well at that.”

“Yeah, maybe,” you nudge his food with yours, “what about you, Javi? What brought you back to Laredo?”

“I’ve, uh—“ he takes a deep breath, “been away for a while, work got to be too much and now I don’t really know what I want to do but I know I don’t want to be that guy anymore and I want a sense of normality even if I think I don’t deserve it.”

“Before I met you, your dad told me you were in Colombia with the DEA—“ he punctuates your statement with a nod, “—I saw the footage coming from there, it was all over the news. I can’t imagine.”

“I'd never want you to.”

You sit in silence for a moment, both of you stretched out looking at the stars with only your arms ghosting against each other.

“Hey, Javi,” you whisper.

“Yes, Panaderita?”

“For what it’s worth,” you take his hand in yours, “I think you deserve it.”

TAGLIST: @a-bang-for-your-bucky @amneris21 @apascalrascal @bdavishiddlesbatch @casualpalacebagelrascal @danniburgh @darnitdraco @dobbyjen @empress-palpat1ne @evelynseventyr @gracie7209 @green-socks @greeneyedblondie44 @hnt-escape @icanbeyourjedi @justanotherblonde23 @klaine-92 @knivesareout @lachicapequena @leonieb @lexi-b-writes @liviiii98 @mariesackler @marvelousmermaid @mouthymandalorianalso @mssarahpaulsooonn @notcookiebelle @omlwhatamidoinghere @pascalslittlebrat @phoenixpascal @phrog-seeds @pilothusband @princess76179 @purplepascal042 @rosiefridayrogersunday @salome-c @sarahjkl82-blog @sleep-tight1 @soyelfuegoquearde @starlightmornings @talesfromtheguild @the-feckless-wonder @wheresarizona @wille-zarr

#javier peña #javier pena #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #javier peña x you #javier pena x you #narcos #narcos fantiction #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña fanfiction

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thegreatshippingwar · 3 years

Text

Was it worth it

Summary: Based on the movie "Don't breathe" But with Yandere Jack Morrison/ soldier 76

Warnings: Rape, death (not you), murder, swearing, impregnation, messed up logic, blackmail

You remember your first meeting with him, it was pleasant. He was a nice blind ex military man who had just moved after the death of both of his children. Rumour said it was a drunk driver, but you didn't want to preye on anyone's trauma. When you first interacted with him it was when you had made him a house warming give the day after he moved in. It was an apple pie, you figured nothing could go wrong with apple pie. Your Parent(s) had said it was rude not to give a welcoming gift to your neighbour, it was a bit old fashion but you didn't mind.

The apple pie was warm to the touch as you knocked on Mr Morrison's door. It didn't take long for the man with white hair and red glasses to open the door. "Good Morning sir, My name is (Y/N) (Y/L) and I live next door." You realized quickly it was maybe best to say the number so he knew which side. "(N/H). Anyway I baked an apple pie here to welcome you to the neighbourhood. I hope you like apple pie?" You started to get nervous he was handsome. Scars litter his face and he was buff for an old dude. You started to blush thinking about him working out trying to keep fit. You pulled yourself out of your fantasy quickly as you realised he probably had a wife.

"It smells delicious." His voice made your heart jump it was smooth but had a rough undertone. "I'm surprised though not many people welcome new neighbours these days." He shifted on his feet before holding a hand out in your direction. "Especially someone so young."

You giggled, hoping to giggle away your nerves as you handed him the pie. "You're right with that. But I guess I'm just old fashioned."

Mr. Morrison was stoked to have you for a neighbour not that you knew. He thought you voice was angel like, he could listen to it all day. So he quickly tapped his red glasses to unblock his vision. He was using the glasses for training and to appear to be a weak blind man to be less suspicious. Looking at your hair looked smoothed to the touch. You were Beautiful he thought. Not to mention you said you enjoyed the old fashioned ways, something tightened below and Jack had to ignore for the sake of continuing the conversation. When you handed him the pie he felt your soft hand brush against his.

A cold shiver went up both your spines, Jack mumbled something that you couldn't hear. "I hope you enjoy, and if you need anything I'm just next door."

Jack could think of many things he could need you for, one included you on the floor right now letting him fuck you. He sighed knowing a pretty thing like you probably had someone who would take care of you. Hell if Jack was younger or not pretending to be blind he would absolutely have pouched on the opportunity to care for you. "I'll do that then."

_______________________________________________________________________________

Months had passed since Mr Morrison had first moved in and other than his dog's loud dinner bell it was peaceful. You only visited a few times mostly to bring him some food if you made too much, which he appreciated. You enjoyed the small moments with Mr Morrison despite it feeling like you would prefer him to your current boyfriend. You seemed to be comparing them a lot and you all too quickly thought Mr Morrison was a better man in general.

Andy wasn't a bad boyfriend but you did question his choice of friends. You knew two of his friends were low key thieves that stole from houses. But they never took too much Andy had said. Only enough to survive since their families kicked them out. You felt sorry for the two but all ways had a feeling there was more to the story then they let you believe.

After many days deciding where or not to break up with Andy you decided you could do better. Besides, you didn't want to involve yourself in what his friends were doing. They always seemed to be up to something. It would be quick and hopefully he would move on.

You were trusting, Mr Morrison had said so as well. When you broke up with Andy he did not take it well. He yelled and screamed and begged and when that didn't work he blackmailed you. You don't know when he took it all you knew was disgust. He had take a photo of you naked which was weird since you hadn't even had sex with him yet.

You were scared and when you asked what he wanted your heart sank. He wanted you to help him and his friends rob Mr Morrison. He figured you would be good at cracking the safe he had as you had shown off at a party when you met him that you could crack nearly and safely. You wished you hadn't learnt that skill, you wished you hadn't fallen for his tricks. Andy just wanted you to get money.

You felt physically sick but once he said he could tarnish your clean record you caved. He threatens not only the naked pictures but photoshop pictures of you doing drugs. So you agreed, despite how nice Mr Morrison was you had no choice. You were too trusting.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Entering the house was harder than anyone of the four of you thought. Ken who had got a spare key to Mr Morrison's house somehow was deemed useless immediately as there were more locks and keys then the one Ken stole. So Hugo had to pick each lock carefully. Andy had told you that Mr Morrison had well over $500,000 because of the drunk driver killing his kid. Andy had told you that the drunk driver had killed Mr Morrison's wife and unborn child and in order to get out of jail their parents paid a lot of money to the court and Mr Morrison.

You feel worse knowing you were robbing Mr Morrison because that accident landed him with money. But it was too late to back out once you were in. "Take off your shoes they'll make to much notice." Ken whispered, "If his is blind his hearing will be better."

The whole group take off your shoes and leave them by the back door. You were especially quiet. Hugo walks up stairs toward Mr Morrison's bedroom. He has a hand made sleeping gas bottle ready to puncture and gas Morrison room. You see Hugo disappear as everyone waits in the lounge room for him. After about 2 minutes he returns. "All good?" Andy asks while whispering.

"Yeah, just he seemed to toss and turn once I punctured the bottle. But he's locked in the room now with the gas."

You don't say a word as Hugo and Ken walk straight towards the basement door that has a lock on it. Hugo gets out his lock and picks again and starts to unlock the door only for Morrison to show up on the staircase. Morrison is wearing his cloudy looking red visor glasses, a tank top and some sweatpants. He heads to the Lounge room, Hugo looks to the group and pulls out a gun. "What are you doing here?" Morrison tills his head a little as you cover your mouth with your hands. You can't be caught now.

"I just walked in dude, I might have had too much to drink." Morrison steps closer to Hugo and Hugo panics shooting near him, "Stay back and I won't hurt you." But Morrison does the opposite and moves quickly towards Hugo. Before he can even shoot Morrison disarms him and holds the gun in his hand.

You stand frozen as Morrison points the gun in Hugo's face and calmly asks. "Who else is with you?" Ken bolts for the door only for Morrison to hear him and shoot him straight in the head. You want to cry, scream anything but you force yourself to be quiet. Hugo apparently didn't know that Ken was most definitely dead.

"Just me and my buddy." Hugo is staring at you, just before the guns goes off in his head. You and Andy stay quite. Morrison rushes to the front door and locks everything before moving to the back you and Andy move upstairs. You move into his study, your shaking but you manage to keep yourself quite. Your crush just murderer two people, he was worse than Andy.

Andy points to the desk which has a safe on it. He moves towards you. "Open it, we have time to get it and leave."

"He just killed two people what if." You cut your whispers short, as Andy points a gun at you. "Okay," tears fall silently as you open the safe to find at least $5,000 in there. You help Andy pack his bag with it.

"I bet there is more in the basement," Andy's greedy eyes stare at you before opening the study door silently. "Besides there is probably a window you can exit from there."

You follow slowly carefully, scared to make a single sound. You make it to the lounge room, seeing Morrison dragging Ken's body into his mud room near the back door. When he comes back Andy accidently makes a squeak against the wooden floor. Morrison stares towards you both. His red cloudy visor seemed to glow in the dark room. You steady your breath as he walks closer. Then you hear Hugo's phone go off, startling Morrison so much he shots it. Silence fills the air as Morrison sighs before grabbing Hugo's body and moving it.

Once he moves out of the room you both head to the basement. A dim light fills the basement, and you move quickly down the stairs. The room is filled with shelves, most of the shelves have boxes on them or file-like books. You move towards the dim light to find a fridge with a few benches around. There is a turkey baster on the left side of the fridge.

While you investigate the fridge Andy is looking at the shelves. "What the fuck?" Andy whispers but you're too busy opening the fridge. A strange liquid in a large container is the only thing in there. Andy moves to your side, " I'm finding a lot of military stuff, but also baby books? What the hell does he want with that." You point to the fridge container and Andy shuggs.

You decide to move towards this open space light area before you notice the lights turn on in the basement. You freeze before you stop. The lights are hanging over this Woman who is lunging at you. She is in a patted semi room and she has a harnse like a dog on her. Tears are falling down her face and you move your way towards her.

___________________________________________________________________________

Meanwhile

Jack was having a bad night, he has to get rid of two bodies. Two idiot robbers decided to try and rob him. Although he was annoyed at first he's glad now having got to experience to kill while blind folded. He can't wait to rub it in Reyes face that he can kill with his eyes closed. But knowing Reyes he might just train himself to do the same.

Cleaning up the bodies was the worst, god he wishes he was doing anything else. Thoughts of you smiling at him thanking him for protecting the neighbourhood and then giving him a special reward help him get the job done quicker. This wasn't the only time he used you to help him through his tasks. He honestly wished you'd help him normally, but you were always distant. Maybe it was your stupid boyfriends fault, god he hated the man. He would enjoy killing him the second he got a chance.

Jack heads to the back door making sure it's locked, before tripping on a shoe. Jack freezes before bending down and feeling around four pairs. Which means, Jack grabs one of his shotguns and heads to the basement. He hopes they didn't set the bitch free. Jack then hears the bell ringing from down stairs. "God damn it"

_______________________________________________________________________________

You set her free of her harness using a knife and she gives Andy a newspaper clipping. Andy's face falls as he reads. You pull off her gag and she silently weeps into your shirt. She clings to you before steading her words. "He said since I killed his kid I needed to replace it. He....he.....he," She is staring towards the fridge and turkey baster.

You feel sick but you pat her head before whispering, "Lets go quickly." Andy nods his head, apparently he didn't want to look for any more money. You pull her out of the room only for a bell to ring, you look behind her and see her leg is still tied to a wire. You assume pulling the wire pulls the bell. You quickly pull out your knife as her face pails. Once you cut it you all rush for the basement door.

A shotgun sounds and you become imobie as you watch the girl fall over. Andy grabs your arm and heads back towards the shelves. Morrison carefully checks the girl's body. "Shit," Morrison seems pissed. "All that wasted effort." You watch him tap his glasses and the cloudiness seems to clear. Andy is hiding you both behind some shelves. "One of you is a women right?" You hold Andy's shoulder tightly. "How about you give me the woman and you can go free?"

Morrison is moving up and down the shelves, his posture has changed. He doesn't seem to need to touch anything with his hands. He's different. "I could just kill you both, got plenty of women nearby to replace that bitch." Jack thinks of you, god he wishes he could tie you to him.

Morrison reaches for a remote in his pocket and presses a button and all the light gets out. Andy grabs out his phone and sets the volume to max, he then plays a video from his phone and throws it across the room. It just so happened to be a video of you singing a nursery rhyme. You both hear Morrison let out an audible groan.

"Fuck," Jack regonises that voice anywhere, "(Y/N) boyfriend right?" God, Andy was dumb. "I think I'll enjoy killing you and your side whore." The video ends just as Morrison picks it up, you are slowly getting to the stair when another video plays.

"Fine, I'll do it." Your voice again plays, "Just don't, Don't show anyone those photos"

"Got it, wouldn't want (Y/N)'s reputation ruined by false rumors and a nude." Andy's voice was mocking. But you could hear your tears clearly even with the phone's shitty quality. Morrison all but grows before turning the phone off.

"You forced yourself on her." Jack was pissed, apparently she hadn't touched the dickless jackass sexually so he was forcing her. Jack was pissed. Jacke turned the light back on. Cat and mouse was over. He wanted him dead.

Morrison rushed over to where your legs were. The shelves may have hidden your bodies but not your feet. You ran for the stair as did Andy, but Andy wasn't fast enough as you heard him scream in pain. "Fuck," You didn't look back and contunid running for the stairs only for an arm to grab your leg and pull you uside down. Your head was facing his knees as you wiggled and started crying. Your whimpers filled the room, but you stopped the second you heard Morrison groan. You looked up at him and noticed his hard on. You wanted to scream but when you saw his face you did otherwise. He was holding his other hand over his mouth. He seemed to be mumbling something, you could see a slight blush on his face.

You panicked, "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry. He made me. He said...he said....'' Your rambles were cute. It seemed to ground Jack, so that's what the black mail was for.

"Have you had sex with him?" Jack needed answers.

"I...I..." You fumble over words, "No, we never..."

Jack pulls you right side up and smiles, "good." He walks over to the padded semi room and gently puts you down in the middle. You notice Andy moaning as he crawls to the staircase, his legs are bleeding. Morrison pulls out a pistol and shoots Andy quick in the head, seemingly too busy to deal with him. He walks over to one of the selves and grabs a box to bring over. You know you should run but you're scared. Plus you know you won't make it to the door, Morrison is too fast and strong.

Jack opens the box and reveals a brand new harness. He brings the harness closer and you move away backing up into the room. "Come now sweetheart don't be difficult." He slowly approach low to the ground, little approaching a rabbit. "Please sweetheart," He gently grabs your arm and you freeze. You keep screaming at you body to move to run but you can't. "That's it" He all but coos in your ear as he starts to put the harness on you. "That's my good girl."

Jack clips in the locks and chains making sure you won't be able to escape. He looks down at your fearful eyes. They all but glow a bright (Y/E) in the light of the room. He can't wait, he thought he could but not anymore. He slowly moves to a pulley lever and somehow you find yourself in the air off the floor.

"You know she killed my kid right? I had always wanted a family and the 'wife' was expensive. I only wished for the kid to make it but my kid was killed by that 'bitch'." He hisses 'bitch' like she was poison on his tongue. "I decided she would have to give me a kid to make up for the one she killed." He looks over to the turkey baster. "I never touched her, never wanted to. But now she's dead." He looks you in the eyes and you notice he somehow got scissors and you freak out. You wiggle as hard as you can. "I'm glad he forced you to rob me. Do you know why?" You refuse to speak and keep wiggling trying to get out of the harness. "Baby," His hands are on your ass rubbing it slowly, tenderly. "When I ask a question I want you to answer." The threat was clear, so you swallow your pride.

"Why?" More silent tears,

"I wanted you, and now I have a good reason to keep you chained to my side. Don't worry too much once I trust you we can have you out of the basement. Once we move of course." His hand moves and he brings the scissors to the front of your pants. "But let's start by making a family." You wanted to scream but only a squeak came out of your mouth as he removed your pants with the scissors. "Adorable," He chuckled before moving to cut your shirt off.

"Please," He stops for a second, "stop." Jack leans forward pulling your hips towards his painfully erect clothed cock. He hums before kissing your forehead.

"Don't worry baby, I'll be gentle." He smooth voice runs a chill down your spine. God no, you wanted to wiggle and you tried but his voice stops you. "Baby, stop trying to ryell me up I won't hold back otherwise."

Jack starts with your clit, rubbing it till you start squeaking and moaning. He enjoys himself too much seeing you like this. He knows he's going to be addicted to this, to you. But he can't help it, he starts kissing your lips hoping to comfort you a little. He all but melts into the kiss, it was just so sweet and soft.

You feel fireworks at his kiss, you hated this you kept telling yourself. You didn't want this, but the longer he stayed there kissing you and playing with your clit the more your reason seemed to slip. You decided to just enjoy it and worry later.

Jack waited until you relaxed a little before entering a finger in your hole. He groaned into your ear as he did it slowly. You were so tight, he was a little worried. He started pushing it in and out and you started falling apart moaning louder and crying less. Jack wanted to enter you now, but he had to be patient. "Please?" Your lusted out look broke his patients.

"Sorry princess." Jack pulled his finger out and quickly stripped. He then aligned his penis in front of your hole. His left arm wrapped around your waist as he moved his mouth next to your eye. His right hand took off his glasses. Beautiful blue eyes greeted you with lust, you looked away towards his member. His dick was big, that you knew. He dick's was leaking and the veins looked angry. His right hand stabled his dick as he slowly pushed in, moaning into your ears. You screamed it was painful, he was too big and you weren't prepared. You started screaming for him to stop, that he was a liar, anything you could to get him to stop but he didn't listen. At least not till he was all the way into you. "Good girl, good job princess. Such a good girl for daddy."

You kept crying as he kept praising you. You learnt quickly that Morrison was just going to do whatever he wanted without your consent. After a little bit Jack decided to grab your waist with both arms and slowly push out. He hissed as he pulled out your tight warm hole was too welcoming, too comfortable, it was heaven. He had to get back in the moment he was out. He started to fuck you faster and your screams didn't stop him or put him off. He honestly loved your screams although he wished you were moaning instead. So Jack moved his right hand to your clit as he managed to wrap his left arm around your body to keep you close. Your tits kept rubbing against his chest as he pounded into you.

Soon enough once you felt your clit being rubbed you began to moan. Pleasure and pain where combining and god you just wished it over. You were beginning to enjoy this horrible experience. Jack's lips found yours again and this time his tongue invaded your mouth. You thought he might slow down his pace but no. He was able to kiss you, rub you just right and pound into you. "Please," You all but moaned as you realise the white tingling feeling builting to your climax. Jack was all too happy to pick up the pace. You felt bruises forming on your hips with how he was gripping them.

"come on baby, Princess cum, cum on my fat cock." His speed seemed to stagger, "Cum on daddy's cock." You feel His cock twitch inside you just before your overwhelmed and moan as you cum. You pussy tightens around Jack and he can't hold back, "(Y/N)" He growls as his warm sperm spills into your abused hole. He pants on top of you for awhile before calming down.

"Finally I have my perfect family."

#yandere Jack Morrison #Yandere Soldier 76 #yandere x reader

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aewhore · 3 years

Text

Sour candy kisses~ Nick Jackson x reader (NSFW)

You and Hangman are childhood best friends and you talk/text every day and your boyfriend Nick thought he was okay with it but his jealous side does come out to play slightly however you put his mind to rest and assure him nothing is going on in the only way you know how. (Sexy time ensues)

Hanging out backstage at AEW dynamite was always the highlight of your weeks, seeing your coworkers who became friends and your friends who became family made your Wednesdays just a little brighter. You were sitting in the EVP dressing room, joking and chatting with Matt and your boyfriend of 3 years, Nick. You loved having some downtime with Matt and Nick when you all weren’t running around booking the shows. You sat on the large comfy couch in the dressing room when your phone went off. Your brows furrow slightly at the unexpected interference.

Hangy:

Hey Y/N! You free?

You can’t help but smile at your phone when you see a text from your favourite lone cowboy Adam Page. You and Adam had been best friends for what felt like your entire life, You had met on the first day back in preschool and You were both the only wrestling fans in your school so you stuck to each other like glue. Your fingers raced across your phone screen as you replied.

Y/N:

Oh hell yeah I am! Meet ya in the café in 5!

You locked your phone and slipped it into your hoodie pocket before beginning to stand from the couch, shimmying out of Nick’s arms. “Hey, where ya going?” Nick pips up, You rolled your eyes at Nick’s protest at the loss of your body heat. “I’m going to meet up with Adam in the cafeteria, do you want me to bring you back anything?” You turn towards Nick in time to catch his face sour slightly. “Oh ok, nope I’m good” The bitterness towards Adam seeped into Nick’s voice. You shoot him a glare before you shake your head and leave. Not even wanting to justify his harshness towards the lone cowboy. “tell him we say hi” You hear Matt yell as the door closes behind you. As you walk from the EVP dressing room to the cafeteria you can’t help but grin at seeing your best friend. You don’t make it to the cafeteria when you hear Adam call out your name. You twist around to see Adam jogging towards you with a fast-food bag and two drink cups which you can only assume are milkshakes. “Took you long enough, come on let’s go find a table, I got something real funny to show you”

Fast forward an hour and you and Adam are still in the cafeteria, empty food containers stuffed back in the fast-food bag as you and Adam huddle around his phone to watch what felt like the 200th funny dog video he showed you today. “Look, look the dog is in the driver’s seat of the truck, why is he there? He can’t drive!” Adam could barely get a sentence out because you were both wheezing so hard. “Man, where do you find this stuff? This is the greatest thing ever!” Ever since Adam was kicked out of the elite, you were thankful whenever you got to see him be carefree and laugh like he used to. You pulled your phone out and nearly gasped at the time, Dynamite would be over at any moment so you had been in the cafeteria for nearly an hour. You see a text notification pop up from Nick.

Pretty Nicki:

Me and Matt gonna go with good brothers to grab a bite to eat, I’ll meet you back at the hotel. xx

Your brows furrow slightly at the bluntness of Nick’s message. Normally if he goes for food after dynamite, he brings you but you dismiss those thoughts and reassure yourself that it isn’t that deep. You reply to him, telling him you’ll get a ride with Adam and that you’ll see him back at the hotel later on. “Is everything okay?” You hadn’t noticed Adam stopped laughing and was looking very concerned at the suddenly sad look in your eyes. “Oh nothing, Nick is just going to get food with Matt and the good brothers.” You explained as you tucked your phone back into your jeans. “Without you?” Adam inquires, You’re slightly confused at Adam’s question. “I mean yeah, we don’t have to do everything together.” You turn to look him in the eye. “Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it, just a question. Do you need a ride back to the hotel then?” Adam was quick to change the subject away from Nick. “Oh yeah, do you mind? I hate to spring this on you” You felt guilty but Adam’s quick response helped put you to rest. “Y/N don’t be like that, you know you ain’t a bother to me. Go grab your stuff and I’ll meet you by the truck out front” You smile at Adam before grabbing the rubbish in front of you and standing to go throw it away on your way to get your things from the locker room.

There was a comfortable silence between you and Adam as he drove you both back to the hotel. One of Adam’s many country music playlists was softly playing in the background. As you rounded the corner into the Hotel car park you take your phone out to check if Nick text you back and he had read the message. You’re pulled from your thoughts by Adam cutting off the engine and hopping out of the truck. You follow suit and round the back to the bed of the truck to grab your bags when you see Adam handing them to you. “Oh thanks, hangy” you take the bags from him and he leads the way towards the hotel lobby. “Anytime darling, do you need to check-in?” He asks when you fall into step with him. “Oh No, Nick checked in earlier so I already have the key.” You pull your key card out of your purse and wave it towards him. “I see, I ain’t that organised so I gotta check-in, Talk to ya later then.” You and Adam stop in the centre of the lobby to bid your goodnight’s. “Alright, Adam I’ll text ya tomorrow morning.” You pull him into a hug and you give him a tight squeeze before releasing him so you could start walking towards the elevator towards the back of the lobby.

Slotting your key into the key card reader, you were happy to see that tiny green light flash allowing you into the room. You see the lights in the room are already on indicating that Nick has returned to the room before you. “Hey, baby I’m back” You give out a soft shout as you dump your bags and jacket on the floor beside Nick's luggage. You enter the room to see Nick sitting on the bed on his phone with his back towards you. Before you can say anything he stands and swiftly walks into the bathroom nearly slamming the door after him. “Jeez someone has an attitude all of a sudden.” You roll your eyes at your boyfriend’s attitude before you walk back to open your luggage to grab your nighties to get ready for bed. After you’ve changed Nick exits the bathroom, in his usual bed attire a pair of old basketball shorts and a black tank top. He stops to plug in his phone as you walk around him to enter the bathroom, leaving the door open behind you. “How was the dinner with the good bro’s?” You ask before beginning to brush your teeth. “Oh, you know the usual, Doc messing around, Anderson hyping him up and Matt being an idiot. Normal stuff.” You laugh at the understatements in Nick’s recollection of the night out. You spit out and rinse your mouth out before leaving the bathroom and walking to your side of the bed to plug in your phone and prepare for sleep.

“So how was your dinner date with Adam?” Nick pipes up as he sits with his back against the bed’s headboard lazily flicking through the channels on the TV. You eye him up before responding “Nick we’ve been over this, Adam is my best friend and that’s it.” He turns his full attention towards you before speaking again. “Oh really, is that why you were cuddling in the middle of the cafeteria?” You could tell he was getting irritated but so were you. “We were not cuddling in the cafeteria, Jesus Christ It’s like you don’t trust me at all sometimes.” You were tired and annoyed at having to defend your friendship to Nick. “I do trust you Y/N, I just don’t trust him” You roll your eyes at his lame excuse. “What’re you rolling your eyes for? It's the truth, I don’t trust him!” It took everything in you not to laugh at that. “Come on Nick it shouldn’t matter if you trust Adam or not if you trust me! You’re just being mean to him because you’re jealous!”

Nick let out a shocked breath before smiling. “I am not jealous of that idiot” You ignored his petty attempts to get you to defend Adam. you saw through his mind games. “I think you are” You’re getting giddy now, you’re under the younger Jackson brother’s skin. “Am not” He childishly quips back. “Oh you’re so jealous of my big strong cowboy” You stoked the flames in Nick’s eyes as you sat facing him on your knees. “Why would I be jealous of that bumbling drunk?” You were still smiling at Nick as he glared daggers back at you. “Hmm, that’s a good question why would you be jealous of that tall, muscular southern boy who was one half still the longest-reigning tag champs in AEW history, with golden hair and-” You’re inputted from your mocking when Nick grabs your knees to pull you towards him before you fall back so you’re now on your back with Nick towering over you. Your hips trapped under his with your legs spread to either side of his waist. He’s replying most of his body weight on his forearms which frame your head. His face mere inches from your own. “Are you done?” He leans down to growl into your ear.

You grin to yourself knowing you’ve won. You let out a small shaky breath before nodding into his shoulder. “Good, now as I was saying, I could never and will never be jealous of that dumbass cowboy because he could never make you feel the things I do.” He has your hips locked against the mattress and you can’t help but try to grind up against him. He smirks at your attempt at more friction. “I know what you want baby girl, but I ain’t gonna give it to you” You whine at this unfair denial of your pleasure. “Why not?” you demanded to know. “I need to hear you say it” You were confused at Nick’s request. “Hear me say what?” Nick raises himself so that he’s looming over you, his icy Atlantic ocean blue eyes staring into your own. “I need to hear you say that I am far better than that idiot in every single way, I have a better body than him, I’m a better tag wrestler than he could ever dream of being, I got the greatest damn hot tag in the business and I have far superior hair than him.” Seeing Nick’s arrogant in bed was intoxicating, he had never gotten like this with you before but now you knew you would be pushing his buttons more often. “Baby Do I have to? I mean I bet I could call up Adam and he’d give me whatever I wanted” You were being bratty but you loved it. “Oh baby girl don’t lie to yourself like that, he could never give you what I give you, he could never make you feel as good as I do.”

The passion in Nick’s eyes took your breath away. Nick shifted his weight onto one forearm as he moved his other hand down to roam the side of your ribs and to ghost your breast, arching your back towards his hand did nothing as he’d move before you could get the touch you carved “Nick I need you, I need you to make me feel good” You wanted Nick so bad at this point. “Hmm, I think I need some more convincing. Beg me for it.” Nick’s arrogant smirk was driving you crazy. “Please Nick, please you know you’re the only one that can make me feel this good” Nick was trailing kisses along your jawline as you pleaded with him. “How could I possibly turn away my needy little slut? I’m gonna make you feel so good you forget how to say your own name.” small moans and whimpers were escaping your lips as Nick nipped and sucked your neck slowly making his way down your body. “You’re wearing too many clothes, off, now” Nick demands as he stands up to tower over you as he strips himself. You rush to strip as quick as you can, throwing your clothes aimlessly off the bed.

You lay back on the bed on your bed as Nick stands naked between your spread legs. Nick’s hands roam your thighs before bends down to lay open mouth kisses along your inner thigh travelling from your left knee up to your crotch purposefully skipping your pussy as he travels back up your right leg leaving a trail of hickeys in his wake. Your attempt to buck your hips towards Nick is stopped by one of Nick’s muscular arms resting on your pelvis keeping you pressed against the mattress. Nick’s teasing streak continues as he delivers a long swipe of his tongue to your pussy just stopping before your clit. Before You can whine at his negligence of your clit he pulls back slightly only to spit on you before he begins to give gentle kitten licks to your clit, causing your moans to slowly build in volume. He gives more general attention to your pussy before he suddenly latches onto your clit causing you to scream his name. The onslaught of a rhythm he builds, long swipes of his tongue on your pussy before teasing your hole that was clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled before he focused his attention onto you pulsing clit, has the coil in your pelvis tightening by the second. You didn’t care if the entire hotel knew you were screaming Nick’s name at this point. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as the coil in your pelvis snaps and you cum onto Nick’s face. You don’t get rest as Nick continues to tongue fuck you through your orgasm. Once you’ve slightly caught your breath you look down to Nick still kneeling between your thighs with a sly smile on his face, before you can ask his plans you feel one of his calloused, long fingers tease your quivering hole. Your head falls back against the mattress as you feel his finger plunge onto you. He shallowly thrusts his finger in and out of you. You can feel him brush against your G spot and you are begging him for more before you even think about it. He grants your wish by sliding a second finger into you. You feel him resume his pace, thrusting his two fingers into you, the pressure against your g spot building and building. You felt him slip a third finger into you and your hand moves down to grab onto his head as the feeling of fullness makes your head spin. With the pace of Nick’s fingers being thrust into you, You can feel your second orgasm approaching. Suddenly he leans down and begins to suck on your clit and your vision goes completely white as your second orgasm of the night hits you.

He continues to thrust into you through your orgasm before he slides his fingers out of you. You whine at the loss. He climbs back up your body before he settles above you. He raises the fingers that were in you to his lips before they disappear into his mouth as he licks off your cum from his fingers. You moan at the sight of him licking your essence off his fingers before he takes them out and he lowers himself onto you to capture your mouth in a breathtakingly passionate kiss. Feeling his body weight pressing you into the mattress with his arms around you and his lips locked onto your own provided you with a level of comfort that only he could give you. Your hands rise from your sides to tangle in his long luxurious hair. You feel his hard erection against your inner thigh and you raise your hips slightly off the bed to grind against it. You hear a groan from Nick as his hand settles on your neck, holding your face in place as he moves back slightly to stare into your eyes. You feel Nick move his other hand down to his dick as he holds the shaft of it to tease you by sliding through your folds before he begins to slowly slip the tip into your hole. You can feel yourself trying to tighten around Nick, you feel the need to have Nick inside of you build and build.

Before you can beg, Nick grants your wish by thrusting into you. From the get-go, he sets a mind-numbing pace. Fucking you so hard and deeply that you feel like he’s fucking the breath out of your lungs. Nick moves both of his hands underneath your thighs to pin your knees up to your chest in an agonisingly good position. The coil in your pelvis was tightening with every thrust Nick delivers to you. Your moans were mixing with Nicks and you can feel his thrusts start to stutter as his own orgasm was fast approaching. You feel one of Nick’s hands move around your thigh so he could rub tight quick circles onto your clit. The sudden spike of pleasure causing your third orgasm of the night to hit you out of nowhere. Your pelvic muscles tighten and pulse around Nick causing his thrusts to stutter, he thrusts into you a few more times before he paints your walls with his cum. He releases your thighs before he collapses on top of you causing your break out into a smile. You raise your hands to rub his back and comb through his hair. He raises his head slightly to gaze into your eyes. “Did I make you feel good princess?” Nick smiles as you both break into giggles. “Oh yeah Nick, You made me feel real good” You lay gentle kisses on Nick’s face. You loved having Nick in your arms like this, his head nuzzled into your neck. You can feel the gentle smile on his face as he gives your neck lazy kisses. “I love you Nicki” You mumble “I love you too baby.” You hear Nick grumble into your neck as you feel yourself lull into sleep.

#Nick Jackson #nick jackson imagine #nick jackson fanfiction #nick jackson smut #AEW #aew imagines #aew fanficiton #aew smut #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling imagine #wrestling smut #the young bucks #pls be kind #wrestling #being the elite

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