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thecuriousquest · 10 months

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The Corn Maze

Yandere Dabi!Hawks x Fem!Reader

Request: Do you think you could do another yan hawks and dabi x winged reader please. I don’t mind if it’s fluff or nsfw or whatever and I don’t even mind what it’s about but I would love to read another story like that. Btw I love your works keep up the great work.

Tag List: @issamomma

Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW, non con, vaginal sex, anal sex, spanking, blood, abuse, kidnapping

Checkout my Master List here.

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You want to get into the spirit of Halloween. It’s difficult since all of your friends are off at university while you’re stuck at home taking a gap year. You’re very good about doing things on your own, however. Once you have your mind made up about something, you usually stick with it.

That’s what leads you to your current predicament: lost in a hard corn maze. The stalks keep you from seeing ahead. You find yourself cornered relentlessly. You feel like you’ve been wandering around for four hours now. It’s getting dark, and you haven’t even gotten halfway through the maze.

Your hand flies to your mouth when you hear rustling in the stalks behind you. Whirling around, your hand finds the inside of your bag, reaching for your phone that has no signal. Maybe, you could throw it at the intruder and run.

“What has you so scared, Chickadee?”

A scream is torn from your throat as you hear a male’s voice behind you. Turning to face him, you see he isn’t alone. One of them has wings, just like you. However, his wings look different from yours. Your wings are as black as night, and his wings are red and sharp. His wild hair and golden eyes give him an animalistic edge.

The man next to him has severe scarring on his face and arms, staples holding burnt skin to new. His cyan eyes are electric and entrancing against his raven hair.

There’s something…off. You’re wearing high waisted black shorts and a white tank top underneath a denim jacket. The way they look up and down your body causes you to tremble beneath their stares.

“Are you lost? Where’s your group?” The same man with the red wings asks.

“Yeah, I’m lost, but I’m not here with anyone.” You instantly regret moment you realize you just told them you’re here alone. You groan internally at your stupidity.

“Well, I’m Keigo, this is my friend Dabi. What’s your name?”

You look away from them and mutter your name. “Y/N…”

Dabi moves towards you. Your back brushes the tall stalks of corn. “Why not fly out of here?”

His nose is close to yours…too close for your own liking.

“I…I can’t fly. My wings only act as a shield.”

“So, you’re a little flightless bird, is that it? Oh, chicken wings will love you. How about this? If you can find a way to please both of us, we’ll get you out of here.” He rubs your forearm, trying to create a soothing atmosphere out of his dark intent. “Does that sound good? We know this maze like the backs of our hands. You’ve been here for a while. Everyone’s gone because it’s close to midnight. Nobody would find you until tomorrow if you don’t manage to make it out by yourself. Who knows what could happen to a little thing like you.”

Keigo stands next to him, the two trapping you. “What do you say, Dove? Want to get out of here or stay all night?”

You look up from the ground at them. You don’t want to give them the type of pleasure they’re seeking, but you don’t want to stay here all night. You don’t have a choice in the matter.

You nod and finally find your voice. “Okay, okay, I’ll please you. I just want to get out of here.”

Their smiles are sardonic and filled with lust. Golden and blue orbs gaze along your body, trying to figure out what lays beneath your clothes. By now, the air is chilly, but the crisp October weather isn’t the only thing causing goosebumps to form on your tender flesh.

Keigo’s feathers trail up your legs before they start tugging at your shorts. You draw in a sharp breath, feeling the sudden invasion. You try to knock the feathers away, but you end up cutting your hand in the process.

“Don’t struggle,” he warns you with that same smirk on his face.

You try to just let everything happen, but you feel your black wings curling around you. The wings are sturdy instead of wispy like a regular feather. They aren’t sharp or blunt like Keigo’s, but they are hard like steel while remaining weightless.

Takami doesn’t like you trying to hide from him. With brute strength, he pries your wings open, staring down at you with heavy breaths. He looks so beastly standing there and panting like that.

Dabi shows his cobalt flames to you, scaring the hell out of you. The look he gives you is skin curling. “Try that again, and we might have to play a little game of fire ball.”

“I can’t help it.”

“You better try then. I have no problems with branding a pretty little thing like you.“

Swallowing nervously, you let Keigo’s feathers resume undressing you.

“Now, get down on your hands and knees,” Keigo orders.

You whimper as your body lowers towards the dirt path. It looks like Keigo is going to take his turn first.

The golden blonde hovers over you. He’s fully clothed with his pants down. You’re stark naked. You soon understand the situation: he wants to dominate you.

His intrusion is jarring. You’re only a little bit wet even if this is something you feel pressured into. The friction he manages is beyond any cock you’ve ever taken. He fills you to the point where you can feel the tip poking your belly. Keigo wraps his arms around you as he pounds you from the back.

You hear squelching coming from two sources: your drenched cunt and Keigo’s friend. Looking up at him, you meet terrifying cerulean eyes upon you. He’s watching you while pumping his dick, his smirk still plastered on his patchwork face.

You can feel your walls crumbling as every drop of Keigo’s sweat drips onto your back. You try to close your eyes and imagine you’re by yourself, trying to find the exit of this fucking corn maze. Every jab of Keigo’s dick distracts you from your dissociation, and you’re left biting your lip as you feel used by him.

Not soon enough, you feel hot liquid fill your insides. As he pulls out, his seed drips down your thighs.

Dabi takes his place behind you as he shucks his pants down a bit. Kneeling behind you, he repositions you on your knees. Dabi grabs you by the back of your hair, forcing you off of your hands so that your cheek is pressed against the dirt. He lines his cock up against your ass, and you turn as you try to cover the hole he wants to enter. It’s awkward from this position, but you manage as you balance on your face and one hand.

“Please, no! I don’t want you going back there!”

“Too bad, Flightless.” He gives your bottom a searing spank with his flaming hand. “I’m an ass man, and I’m about to have the time of my life.” He uses both hands to smack you into an oblivion. Your skin feels raw, bruised, and literally on fire. The punishment is endless, and you finally move your hand back in front of you as the message sinks in.

Dabi uses both hands to separate your cherry cheeks. He uses the blood from your torn up flesh as a lubricant for his dick. It works well enough. He likes that he can hear you sobbing weakly and sniffling. After giving your ass a final slap, he slips inside, and he isn’t patient about it either. With one thrust, you feel all of him from base to tip.

Your wings flap, trying to get him off of you as you feel an overwhelming sensation pooling in your body. Pain. Unbearable, aching, misery-inducing pain.

Keigo has to hold down your flapping wings that are trying to knock Dabi off of you. You’re punished for that with the blue flames of hell as he spanks you again and again.

“Don’t pull a stupid stunt like that again,” Dabi demands with a threatening tone.

“Please, just hurry up and come already!” You can’t help but beg him. You just want this ordeal to be over with so that you can go home.

“Aw, isn’t that cute. The bitch wants me to come. You want me to come in you or on you?”

“In me…I guess. Ah, please, come in me!” You clench your fists and grit your teeth as you hear them both laugh at you.

It’s a tormenting sound, to be laughed at while you’re being held down and raped. They cause you to weep silently into your folded arms.

Dabi loads up before pulling out and coming all over your abused backside. In the end, it doesn’t matter what you want. They’re just going to have their way with you despite what you tell them.

When he finishes pumping his seed along your bleeding flesh, he pushes you further into the ground. They don’t even let you get dressed. Dabi holds you down while Keigo gathers your clothes.

“You ready to go home, Chickadee?” The blonde questions.

Sniffling, you try to look at him as Dabi keeps your cheek in the dirt. “You know where I live?”

“Don’t be a smart ass. We’re taking you back to our place. I’m not done with you yet,” Dabi explains.

Dread fills every cell in your body as they drag you out of the maze, force you into their truck, and take you to your new home.

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whatevertheweather · 1 month

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Alright, I'm really trying to get Musical Chairs done. And I'm making progress. I've connected a lot of things.

But I also have this fic in two docs, one that's the OG and one that I add to when it's ready for betas, and today I thought "I don't need all this lead-up in the OG anymore. I will feel better about what's left when it's not a 98 page document. I will delete up to where I left off posting." And then I deleted and it was still 43 pages, and I do not feel better about that. So. Get ready for a meal, and for now here's a bite.

“Anyway.” Simon shook his head. Army crawling through the muddy mire of his brain for something to add that wasn’t sappy sentiment about Baz’s eyes. “You know, you don’t strike me as the reunion type.” Baz raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth inching towards a smirk. “And what type do I strike you as?” “Mad success out of spite,” Simon started, and Baz scoffed. “Show it off on social a bit with your hot boyfriend and, like, champagne bottles no one could afford…” Simon tilted his head, trying to put Baz into words through a few too many drops of alcohol, “then everyone who used to know you knows you won, and they don’t get to know you anymore.” Simon nodded, skimming his palms briskly together before spreading his hands like he was letting the problem fall away. “No reunion needed.”

I'm actually not satisfied with that bite but I don't want to spend an hour looking for a different one, so I'll just also throw in this bit from the bulletpoints where I yell at myself about figuring this fic out.

What happens other than deciding on drinks, which objectively doesn’t need to be from Baz’s POV at all if that’s all we’re goddamn doing with it.

K the answer is apparently slutty cherry consumption.

Anywho, tags and love under the cut <3

First thank-you-for-the-tags tags! @thewholelemon @mooncello (your name is sung by cat stevens in my head btw, thought you should know) and @run-for-chamo-miles, all of your posts were golden.

And more! @fatalfangirl @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @whogaveyoupermission @moodandmist @bookish-bogwitch @aristocratic-otter @artsyunderstudy @cutestkilla @youarenevertooold @ivelovedhimthroughworse @alexalexinii @rimeswithpurple @noblecorgi @forabeatofadrum @facewithoutheart @martsonmars @nightimedreamersworld

#six sentence sunday #my writing #kinda wanna go bonkers editing this tbh #there's no earthly way this fic requires this many words to conclude #I need to reel it in ok I need to cut some things loose

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shurisneakers · 2 years

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bridges break (vii)

summary: steve shuts himself away. you pull him along on a trip of a lifetime in an attempt to reconnect. great plan! except there’s one big secret he’s keeping from you that could change the course of your entire relationship, and there’s no greasy stack of diner pancakes in the country big enough to hide behind.

(road trip!au, best friends to lovers)

Warnings: mentions of death, injuries, war, angst, mental health issues and disorientation, ptsd, swearing, panic attacks, lemme know if i missed anything and I’ll tag it.

A/N: hate mail to j*ss whedon for not making the avengers friends when he literally. could have. like it was right there. and now unfortunately i have to stick to that part of canon like sir you're ruining my found family ihysm. anyway this part mentions tony. (how are we all doing btw how is everyone's life going?)

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

"Fact number 3. Captain America's favourite colours are red, blue and white."

Steve's face contorts. "Absolutely not."

"I can see why they think that," you say through a mouthful of popcorn. "Take a wild guess, why don't you."

"I prefer the stealth suit," he grumbles. "Not that they cared to ask."

"Because you'd tell 'em if they did? King of open communication?" you retort before going back to your phone.

Steve stays quiet. He knows it's a joke but there's a bite to it that he isn't sure you've used before.

"Fact number 4. The shield is calibrated to return to his arm constantly," you continue, however.

"Now that's just wrong," he states. "Sometimes it comes back to my face."

You hold back a laugh. "You've hit yourself in the face with your shield?"

"I wasn't born with the ability to throw that thing around, you know." He can't help a smile. "The serum was the only thing that stopped us from finishing half the army's medical supplies. I had a new broken bone at the end of each day because I caught it wrong."

"What?"

"Broke both my femurs once. Had to lay there on the ground for a couple hours till it healed so I could walk back to the main camp."

You wince. "Steve."

"They always leave that out of the movies," he says dryly. "Wonder why."

"You're insane." You shake your head. "I feel bad for Bucky."

Steve finds himself grinning. "He was convinced I liked doing it."

"Your smile doesn't tell me otherwise," you say, entirely unimpressed yourself.

There was still a tiny scar on his shin. He sometimes saw it when his legs were propped up in front of him. Each time, ghosts of the searing pain shoot up his thigh and fade away a second later.

"Fact number 5," you digress when he doesn't counter your earlier statement, "His favourite food is apple pie."

Steve shrugs.

"I know that's wrong. You like blueberry better."

The corner of his mouth quirks into a tiny smile. "I do."

"Fact number 6," you call from where you lay on the bed. "His favourite movie is Gone With the Wind."

Steve stares at you from the chair, one leg crossed over the other.

"Well?" you urge. "Is it?"

"How many of these are there?" he asks wearily.

"Like, twenty four." You turn back to the phone when he doesn't answer. "Fact number-"

"Please," he says. "No more."

"Fair enough."

He watches you close the tab, dropping the phone onto your chest.

"It isn't Gone With The Wind."

"Yeah, I know."

You continue to stare at the ceiling. It's an easy afternoon, for the both of you to rest. Check out was later and then you were supposed to be on the road again.

"You know, I don't think I've ever asked you that," you say, flipping onto your stomach to eye him. "What is your favourite colour?"

Steve thinks for a second but invariably settles on the first colour that pops into his head.

"Yellow."

"Fun." You pull your phone out from under you and unlock it again. "I'm gonna comment that, hold on."

After a beat, Steve asks, "What'd you say?"

"Told them I have it on good record that Steve Rogers' favourite colour is yellow--" your focus stays on whatever you were typing out-- "and that their list sucks."

"Maybe leave out the last part," he suggests.

"And posted." You give him a thumbs up. "I'll give it five minutes before someone starts an argument with me in the replies."

He's gotten into his fair share of online arguments. It'd dwindled over the years, but there were enough for his PR agent to pale whenever she saw him near a phone.

"Did you actually post that?"

"Huh?" you ask, but it comes out distant as you click dedicatedly at something.

"Are you already fighting with someone?"

"Give me a second." You hold up a finger.

Steve settles on watching you focus on the task at hand.

In a flash, your nose scrunches up all weird. He thinks it's adorable, especially when he catches your eye and you immediately try to get rid of the disgust, disdain, whatever it was.

"What?" He laughs.

"Nothing."

"C'mon," he prods. "I'll tell you my favourite movie."

"That's a trick question, Rogers." You wave the same raised finger at him. "You don't have a favourite movie."

Steve huffs a little at the failed attempt, but his heart swells. Just a little. A normal amount. He represses the everloving shit out of it.

"It's nothing," you repeat, locking your phone again and dropping it beside you. "I just took a Buzzfeed quiz to find out my superhero boyfriend."

Steve's eyebrow quirks up. "And?"

"It's the raccoon." You sigh. "The space raccoon."

"Rocket?" Steve asks. "Yeah, I could see that working out."

"Do you now?"

"I've got a way of contacting him around here somewhere. You think you can wait that long?"

You reach over to throw a pillow at him and Steve laughs when it misses by a long shot.

_____

The clear, unobstructed skies are dealt with by looming trees. Dark, tall and swaying.

Steve loses sight of the road minutes into the woods, watching in awe and trepidation. His ears stay tuned-- he can hear every footstep in a two-mile radius if he really tried, and for a second he really does consider it.

The car moves along slowly, windows rolled down welcoming the freshness. Steve inhales and exhales just as deep, letting clean, crisp air flood his system.

"That's the owner," you sing, pulling the car to a halt by the side of the house.

It's a wooden A-frame, with windows giving him a peek into the inside. A ramp goes up the side and to the back, serving as an entrance and a patio, a pit out front for campfires.

Steve steps out first, doing a quick scan of the environment before you join him. Nothing was wrong. Yet.

You greet the blonde woman dressed in a bright red tracksuit, hair up in a pony and a bandana pushing back flyaways.

One hand on her hip and the other out to meet yours in a shake, she jumps back and forth between Steve and you as you introduce yourselves.

"It's nice to meet y'all," she chirps, eyeing the both of you up and down. "We get a lot of couples out here this time of year. Y'all got lucky with the booking."

"Oh, we're not..." you begin before trailing. "Thanks for fitting us in."

She catches it, however, raising an eyebrow at Steve. He gives her a polite smile.

"Here's the number to the keypad. Just remember to keep the noise down if you're playing music, no smoking, no pets. If you're using the fire pit, pour water over it when you're done."

"Got it," you confirm. "Won't be an issue."

"I'll be a few miles away at our campsite." She looks at him. "Don't hesitate to call or visit if you need anything. My phone's on at all times."

"Thanks." He gives her a smile.

"At all times," she repeats slowly as she backs away. It has you stifling a laugh.

"We'll keep that in mind," he replies. "Have a nice day."

"You too!" she calls out. "Make yourselves comfortable. Have a nice stay."

You wave at her as she gets into her own car, engine whirring to life as she pulls away, but not before sending him another look out her window.

"Wow," you say in awe when her car disappears beyond the trees.

"I know, it's beautiful." Steve isn't even looking the same direction as you are, seemingly having turned towards the house in the middle of the encounter.

You look at him strangely, almost as if you're gauging his reaction. "Uh huh. That's what I'm talking about. The house."

He tilts his head at you and you dismiss it with a shake of yours.

"Come on," you adjust the bag over your shoulder. "I call dibs on the upstairs bedroom."

_______

The sun sets faster in this part of the world, or he just doesn't notice the time slipping by.

Afternoon turns to evening turns to night in a flash by the time he comes back from exploring the nearest surroundings. There's a lake nearby, still and gentle with a paddle boat nearby that he might convince you to go on the next day.

But above all else, there is just overwhelming quiet. He can hear twigs cracking a mile away, the beating of your heart next to him as you walk beside him and every bird that lands on a branch.

You eat dinner out in the open that night, diner food balance don your laps as you sat on the stairs. Steve has a jacket thrown on. He realises he doesn't really need it, but he keeps it on nonetheless.

"Staying in places like this for at least a week would factory reset your brain," you say. "It's dangerous."

"What d'you mean?" he asks.

"Why do you think people who go on vacation sometimes just stay there?" You bite down on another spoonful of rice. "It's the peace. Once you get addicted, there's no going back."

"Have you?"

"Not yet." You shake your head lightly. "I don't ever stay long enough. I've got work to finish that I won't get to otherwise."

Steve finds himself relating a little too much to that. "Yeah."

"My parents liked it," you add wistfully, almost. "The quiet. Our house was silent a lot."

Steve has nothing to say in reply. He supposes that's why he hears you humming to yourself so much-- filling in spaces left behind by other people.

"But maybe someday." You shrug, facing him with a little smile. "It's something to look forward to."

"Today we're in Morocco. Next week we'll be in Lebanon," she says. "After that who knows?"

"Depends on where we're needed next." He takes aim and throws his dart.

"I guess.” She watches it hit the board. “And eventually, we won’t be needed anywhere." Nat looks at him. "That's what we're doing this for, aren't we?"

"That's the goal." He offers her a dart out of his own pile. She turns it down. "Don't know if that's ever gonna happen. Retirement, stability; it seems a long way off."

"The quiet?" Steve asks.

"The quiet," you affirm.

The sky is cloudy, but the moon is bright enough to illuminate the area around you without the support of the cabin lights. You don't say anything much, only tidbits of conversations here and there.

The leaves rustle whenever a draft blows, and once the wind chime that hangs above you both settles down, you are left in the same silence as before.

He can't tell if he likes it or not.

_______

Steve raises his arms above his head and stretches until he hears the usual pop in his shoulder.

The sweater he's wearing rides up his waist, exposing a tiny sliver of skin before his arms drop to the side again. It was cooler outside than he'd thought it would be, even after you'd raised the temperature in the house in anticipation of it getting even worse at night.

"G'morning," you say, sipping from a mug, settled back in a lounge chair on the patio.

"Is it?" he squints at the sun.

"Well no. It's like, one o'clock, but I didn't wanna wake you," you confess. "Thought you'd need the rest."

Something-- and he' can't quite put his finger on it-- had kept him on edge the entire night. His sleep was light, barely there, just in case something decided to show up from the trees.

"Breakfast?" you propose. "Brunch, actually."

"I'll get it," he replies. "It's in the bag?"

"Yeah, there's some muesli for you. Bread's on the counter," you reply, going back to the news you were reading.

Steve steps into the house, bare feet against the cool floors. He locates the duffel bag on the dining table, already left open.

He finds the box of cereal fairly quickly, and as he pulls it out it reveals the supply of crackers, chocolate and marshmallows underneath.

It brings a smile to his face as he reads the label on each one, sifting through a few ready made meals before his sight lands on a box somewhere near the bottom.

Pancake mix, and a tiny, sealed bottle of syrup.

He sends a glance over to where you're sitting unaware, back turned to him.

It takes him about twenty minutes to find a pan, mix up the batter and make enough pancakes to keep the both of you full the whole day.

_____

Tonight, you declared, was the fateful night.

"You can see the stars clearly from the outskirts," you tell him. "And apparently it's not supposed to be cloudy tonight, so yay."

It's a task, but you gather up all the firewood you could find, a big grin on your face as you drop it near the pit. Steve follows behind, carrying even more than you were, amusement on his face.

"C'mon," you instruct, "time to put those arson skills to use, Rogers."

So he does. Puts all his century-gathered knowledge together and creates the best fire he can, steady and would last a pretty long time. By the time he's done, even he's impressed.

"You got the bucket?" he queries. "The owner said it'd be under the kitchen sink."

"Have it right here, filled and ready to go," you confirm, patting at it. "Don't worry, I heard her through all the swooning."

He pokes at the fire to shift around some sticks. "What swooning?"

You narrow your eyes at him. "Don't tell me you couldn't see it."

Steve holds onto the log for longer than usual before declaring, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, my God." You bite down on your lip to prevent a laugh. "I know you're shitting me, Rogers, there is no way you didn't notice her flirting with you."

"Is that what this is about?" Steve's eyebrow creases. "I didn't notice."

"Sure you didn't."

"Swear to God, I got no clue what you're talking about."

"She told you to visit her campsite," you remind him lightly, "at any time, whenever you want."

Steve's face twists when realisation sets in. "I didn't read into it."

"She's got a little crush on you," you tease. "Who can blame her, really?"

"Stop it," he mumbles, attributing the heat creeping up his neck to the fire. "She doesn't."

"Do you usually not notice when people hit on you or--?" you point out, "Because it's been happening on this trip, too. I have eyes, I can count."

"First of all, I didn't get hit on for about, sixty per cent of my life," he retorts. "And when I did, it was hard to miss."

You quirk an eyebrow, throwing a random twig into the flame. "What, no playing coy?"

"The exact opposite." Steve's smile, the one he reserves for the days gone by, is slight to himself. "Sometimes the girls used to just grab me and kiss me. It caused a lotta trouble.”

The boys used to keep track of every time Steve stumbled into his quarters with lipstick smudged across his cheek and genuine excuses for being late being met with 'uh huh, yeah right!'. They thought it was the funniest shit in the world while he painstakingly wiped away at his mouth.

You, however, react differently. A flinch. It's small enough that he probably wouldn't have even caught it if he wasn't paying so much attention.

He's quick to ask, "What's wrong?"

“I dunno. Just think that they shoulda asked first.”

He pauses to think about it for a second. Wonders if that's why he never laughed as much as the boys did.

He can’t think of a response so he lets it go.

"She doesn't have a crush on me." He feels the need to defend.

"Absolutely." You nod. "I completely agree with you."

You laugh when he mumbles something under his breath and it drags a reluctant smile from him.

As dusk moves into night, the clear sky is unfortunately forced covered by clouds rolling in. Not a star to be seen.

"Maybe it'll clear up in a while," he offers.

You sigh. "I don't think so. Damn weather forecast lied to me."

Steve's mouth presses into a thin line. "I'm sure we'll see it along the trip somewhere."

"I suppose," you reply, head turned up to the sky. "I thought we could see it together. I loved stargazing as a kid.”

“I remember you telling me.” Steve's face can’t help itself, his lip tugging upwards.

“Yeah, I’d stay up pretty late to wait for my parents so I found my way towards it. I picked up on a few constellations to show them but they were always too tired." Your head inclines, trying to see past the clouds. “Or they weren’t really interested. But eventually, that’s what got me into science, y’know?”

Steve’s mouth tugs to the side unhappily, eyebrows knitting together. He doesn't know how you were so casual about them, each time, after everything.

You face him again. “Did you ever do it? Stargazing?"

"Not like you, I think," he says. "I can name a few constellations, but that's it."

"You got a favourite?"

"Scorpius," Steve replies. "This kid in my apartment used to point it out to me from the roof sometimes. He liked insects in general, used to chase his sisters around with them.”

A wide smile grows on your face. "That's adorable."

But it’s been years since Walt was long gone; so was his mother and his sisters and almost everyone else in that brick-walled apartment that was falling apart at the seams.

He clears his throat before he can think too hard about it. "Your favourite changes every time you do this, doesn’t it?"

"It does." You reach over to pull out the supply of marshmallows you'd got along the way. "I can't ever pick one."

"Do you have a favourite star?"

"Yeah," you shoot back, smile changing into a grin, "You."

It's the first terrible joke you've made in days. That fact alone is enough to get a laugh from him. It smells of relief and mixes with a groan.

"Leave one out for the bears," he reminds as you hand him a stick with a marshmallow speared on one end.

"Mighty generous of you, Steven." You hold it over the fire. "I'll make extras for you too. Gotta get that energy in when you're fighting them."

"Yeah, you gotta even the playing field."

The joke brings with it the memory of bright sunflowers that should be picture perfect, but instead, it feels like someone's poured water over the campfire.

His fingers itch, and he chooses to run it through his hair to shake off the sudden despair that threatens to weave its way through him again.

Steve reminds himself that's why he keeps the jacket on.

When he looks back at you, your face has sobered too. It's no stretch to assume you were reminded of the way the afternoon had taken a turn after a mostly pleasant day.

"What happened there that day, Steve?" you ask softly, pulling your roasted marshmallow back from the flame.

"I don't know." He bites the inside of his lip. "Guess I was just tired."

He was, but even you know that wasn't entirely truthful.

"I'm not going to push you," you say, neck craned towards him. "But I think keeping everything in isn't the way to deal with it."

His own treat is singed at the edges by the time he remembers he pulls it back, but he can hardly find it in himself to care. He doesn't even think he wants to eat it anymore.

"Everyone says it's something different. The way I am." Everyone's got an opinion, everyone's dissected him open on every television station, podcast, internet forum. "Everything from possession to being a cyborg."

"Doesn't matter what they think."

"What's your assessment?" Steve turns to you.

"Doesn't matter what I think either." You look him in the eye. "I'm not qualified to hand one out. Different kinda doctor."

But it does. It does matter what you think.

Steve looks at you before looking back up at the clouds.

"We didn't have names for all this back then." He finds it easier to talk about the war than himself. "Mostly just called it shell shock or combat fatigue. Sometimes all it took was thirty days on the field."

He can hear it it still, ringing in his ears. With the flashbacks and the commands he remembers shouting over raining bullets, the only thing missing was the smell of blood stained mud and death lingering close by. He doesn't know how he speaks so easily about it, like a reality he's detached himself from. He supposes it was good. If he re-lived every emotion he went through during those years, he'd go insane.

"The first year out of the ice, they had me meet with a few living World War 2 vets. Some sort of publicity stunt, I don't know." He shrugs. "They thought it'd be good."

Your breath hitches in your throat.

"Didn't really know them, but I knew people who knew them," Steve says. "We talked about what we remembered. Most of it matched up, some of it were things I didn't even know happened."

They stuck him on a plane within two weeks of coming out of the ice and attributed his face going pale and vice like grip on his knees to air sickness. It took a while to get used to being in the sky again.

"One of the guys there, retired Colonel, was talkin' about how one of the privates was gonna get court-martialed for going A.W.O.L. during the war." Steve shifts, tugging his arms closer together. "Just a kid too, eighteen years old. Don't know how they even got past Basic, they always did the vilest shit to get you ready for what's out there."

"I can handle it."

"You're all of four feet tall with twigs for bones, and you think you can handle it just cause your mamma called you a strong boy? Go home."

"I can handle it," Steve repeats, teeth gritting, sweat tearing down his skin. The sky had barely seen the light of day and his muscles already ached in places he couldn't put a finger on.

"Why, cause you got heart? You believe in the power of friendship?" The man's stare hardens like his fingertips. "What those posters sell ya- that's all bullshit, kid. That ain't gonna save you."

Steve's fingernails bruise into the palm of his hands but he doesn't shift.

"This-" He shoves at his chest and Steve is forced to take a step back, heels digging into the soil. "This is gonna save you."

He'd seen this kind of people before. Ones that violence hadn't made softer, just the opposite.

"Your scientist buddy may believe in that good man, boy scout horseshit but out there-" the man points behind him- "out there, Rogers, there are no morals. Would you eat a brother if you were starving? Would you stand on his dead body to pick fruit from a tree?"

Stories of pushups with broken ribs, limbs getting blown up right in front of him. Always hard to talk about the nicer things, the good things in life. Stories shrouded in negativity flow from his heart so easily that he fears that it's become his new normal.

"They called it the war to end all wars. It's what they told everyone, told them their sacrifice would be worth it. You start losing friends once, twice and then over and over again and you start wondering--" Steve presses his mouth into a thin line. "Come out a hundred years later and nothing's changed."

Your mouth is pressed into a hard line. You don't say anything, however.

"That's my assessment." He looks at you. "I think that's what happened there. Thought I'd gotten used to it, letting go of people you care about. Apparently I didn't."

He didn't think he'd have to deal with it again. He'd put it away, locked it in a room with the rest of the memories of the war and when he was forced to break it open again, it just didn't compute.

"We didn't talk about it," he continues, voice clear. "Wasn't really heard of to ask for help. You just... dealt with it. Moved on. Get out of there if you can and get your life together if it all works out."

Some of them dealt with it well. He met Morita's grandson, and from what he heard, the man had lived a good life. He wouldn't talk about the war too often but when he did, it was always about the boys. Others were lost in thousand yard stares and memories he kept locked away, but his grandson mentioned the clementines he always had for him when he visited.

"Have you talked to someone about this?" you lean forward on your elbows. "Anyone?"

"Sam knows a little bit. Buck too, but that's different." That was informal, filling in the gaps from what Bucky could remember and what he wanted to remember.

The VA sessions were good whenever he could attend them. Not very regularly, or a lot; he was always more of a listener than a talker. But it felt liberating to know he wasn't alone.

"There are more specialists out there now." Your tone's shifted from the light one earlier this evening, but he's grateful it doesn't hold the same air of patronisation he's heard before. It's kind. "People who've been through similar things."

"Yeah," he says, chewing on his lip. "I know, but-"

He took the support group job on after Sam, hoping it'd help. Every session, the dull guilt of hypocrisy and the inevitability of someone calling him out on what he was-- a fraud. Trying to help others make sense of a world he couldn't, help them continue when he still hadn't figured out how to move on. A lie.

“They won't- they don’t understand. All they wanna do is take notes and try and figure out what's wrong. What if I don't want to know what's wrong?”

It's like a snap when he suddenly gets what it is, back in the doctor's couch with her opposite him. It's suffocating. He's suffocating.

He blinks hard, turning his head up to the sky.

Stars. There's a constellation hidden up there, but he doesn't know the name.

He could make a new constellation. For the way he can hear you breathing beside him and the spitfire warmth of the burnt-out logs. A constellation, and he'd name it after something you love. Rain on pavement, or videos of penguins falling over. For you and him, and the silence in the between and the words he can't distinguish the meaning for yet.

“Would it help if it wasn't, you know, that methodical?” you pipe up again. "Like talking to me, or to someone else who isn't taking notes."

He looks at you wearily. "Ain't that unethical?"

"What, talking to a friend?" You give him a smile. "No, I think we're within the laws on that one."

Steve's eyebrows upturn, and he waits for you to say something more.

"Not like therapy. Just-- anything. I won’t say anything. But you need to talk it out because I'm worried you're going to implode if you don't."

"I don't know what to say." Where to begin. How to begin. Who is he talking for? How does he do it right?

You look at him with no expectations, but a strong concern. Steve stays where he is, one hand holding a branch, one balanced on his knee.

"What do you want me to talk about?"

"Whatever you want," you promise. "I'd like to hear you talk about what you want to. Even if it's about the forties, or I don't know; the MET Gala or something."

"They invited me this year."

"Of course they did."

"Don't think I'm going."

"Had a hunch."

But something you said rings out to him, forcing him to reconsider.

Steve hesitates. "You want me to talk about the 40s?"

"If you want to," you reply. "Jus' don't want you to feel like you don't have anyone to talk to. Because I'm here, I wanna listen."

Steve chews on the inside of his bottom lip.

And surprisingly, it makes sense that it's all he wants to talk about.

Going to the past is comfortable. It's calm.

"Don't know if I can get it out," he says. "I'm tired."

"Of?"

Everything, really.

"It's been a long day."

"Well, let's get some rest then," you break the silence, offer him a kind smile.

You reach down to repack the uneaten food without another argument. The ball was in his court again, and he knows that eventually he'd have to rally it back. It wasn't fair; for you to keep trying and for him to offer nothing back.

So he says, "Ask me something. Anything."

You look up at him, and his lips slight upwards in encouragement. You let the bag drop back down.

"Okay," you pause, and decide on trying to keep it light for a start. "Tell me something good."

Something good.

Like what? His favourite childhood memory or the song he finally found whose two lines he had been singing to himself over and over in the past month? Something big, with bubbling laughter and strained voices, or small with subdued contentment and blush stained cheeks?

Almost like you can sense his trepidation, you add, "I can go first."

He agrees.

"I," you begin, almost like an announcement, "saw three cats yesterday."

His eyebrows furrow. "Where?"

"Near the museum."

"I didn't see them."

"That's 'cause you were in the gift shop."

"Oh."

"You know what?" You reach over to dig through the bag. "I actually got a picture. I thought you'd might wanna see."

A thorough look at three felines lazing around in the sun is enough to convince him that the small joys of the world have not, in fact, evaded him.

"Okay, your turn," you say after tucking your phone back.

He gives a small 'hmm' in response, head turned down as he thought.

"Tell me something good, Steve Rogers."

He shouldn't be finding it as hard as he does.

"I've always wanted a dog," he settles on. "When I was a kid, all I wanted was a dog."

"You didn't have any pets growing up?"

"Not really, just a lotta strays I used to find along the way." More like Steve sneaking out several hours in a day with his food wrapped in an old handkerchief to feed some new alley cat he noticed while getting beaten up. "Closest we got to keepin' one was this Labrador. Guess his owners couldn't handle an older one so they just drove over to our town and abandoned him."

"Fucking dickheads."

"Yeah." The corner of Steve's lips lift. "We found him near our house. Called him Champ."

"What was he like?" Your chin rests on your palm as you listen intently.

"Lived up to his name." Steve shrugs. "Ma made him a vest out of an old shirt. I wrote our names on the back."

The smile on your face is infectious. "How long did he stay with you?"

"Not long. Couldn't really afford to keep one, so we searched for anyone in the neighbourhood who could take care of him. He left in a couple of weeks."

He neglects to mention how he never saw him again. Broke his whole heart, it did.

You told him to tell you something good.

So he follows it up with, "Buck tried throwing him a stick to fetch and he just sat there. Never tried again."

"What a king."

Steve exhales out a laugh. "My mom got real mad when we both showed up covered in dirt every day."

"How do you manage to convert everyone you meet into a vagabond?" you tease and Steve just shrugs, mouth stretching down in cluelessness. ""Did he grow on your mom?"

"Oh, she loved him. Wouldn't ever admit it, but I knew she was upset when he left. I told myself I'd never get one after that 'cause I'd never seen her that sad before."

As if Sarah didn't know exactly what her son was up to when he stowed half his breakfast into his pocket and left in a hurry. As if she didn't make sure there was an extra portion that she knew he wouldn't be able to finish, even if it meant giving up half of hers.

"Well, I think she would have wanted you to have a dog if you could," you say. "Maybe you could name him Champ."

Steve's mind ruminates over it for a few seconds. "Yeah, maybe."

Because the truth is, she would. Of course she would. Even if he had asked back then, even if things were a little difficult, she'd have found a way to do it for him.

"There's this picture of her I used to carry around with me everywhere."

Your head motions towards him in question. "Your mom?"

"Yeah." It sat on his mantlepiece until now, where it was back in his wallet.

Her in a white sundress, smiling brightly with her eyes squinted to avoid the glare of the sun. It was before he was born, the laugh line hadn't fully formed yet and her face didn't hold the same suffering it did in the years to come. His favourite picture of her.

"I had it in my wallet the night Ultron happened, and in the middle of that mess, it tore." He still remembers staring at it in the kitchen, knees bent over broken glass. The growing hole of despair in his stomach reassures him that maybe if he looked at it long enough it'd go back to normal. Maybe if he sits there enough he'll realise it never happened in the first place and the nausea rising to his throat was just the adrenaline wearing off.

But the call comes and the group has to reconvene and the photo, torn and jagged, finds its way back into his wallet for another day.

"Do you still have it?" you ask quietly.

"I do, yeah." He nods. "Uh... Tony got it fixed. Called it a birthday present and made me swear to never mention it again."

In exchange for not telling him how he knew about the picture in the first place, managed to sneak into his wallet and restore it without Steve ever knowing it left at all.

Your eyebrows slightly furrow. "I didn't realise y'all were that close."

"We weren't." Not really, not as much as the publicity team pushed it anyway. "But we had our moments."

In another world, they could have been friends. Respect certainly. Admiration, even, to a certain degree.

"He's my friend."

"So was I."

Steve trusted him. Would agree without a doubt that he was one of the greatest minds of the century, if not ever.

But what follows him on nights he can't sleep and days he spends thinking of things that could have been differently, is that Tony thought of him as a friend. And Steve, he thought... co-workers, acquaintances even, but friends--

He snaps his attention to you. "You got anything good to tell me?"

"I finally got around to deep cleaning my house," you say and Steve lets out a low whistle. "Yeah, I know right? Threw out all the garbage, got some new succulents."

"Who's watering them while you're gone?"

You pause. "The cute neighbour down the hall."

Steve's mouth lifts. "Cute neighbour, huh?"

"You know the one. You've heard him play the banjo when you stayed over."

"The banjo guy's watering your succulents?"

"Now when you put it like that." Your eyes narrow, eyebrows wiggling.

He doesn't notice it at first-- but there is a lightness that's replaced some of the fog in his mind. It feels almost foreign, sacrilege to admit that he does feel... better. Not good. But better than he had been earlier.

"You and banjo guy, me and the cabin owner." Steve turns to the flame that was beginning to die out. "Who woulda thought?"

"Hottest double dates in town." You poke at his leg with your stick. "They're really more cacti than succulents, so he isn't going to be over too often."

"That's a damn shame." Steve cracks a smile.

"I know." You sigh loudly in mock despair. "He plays at the community centre on Saturdays, guy's got a whole cult following on TikTok. The kids love him."

Steve didn't really try to keep up with the trends but he wasn't unaware of them. His Twitter page was mostly active, often cited as one of the most influential political accounts out there. He could tell when certain trends set in by the way his mentions would blow up, or the way his following would increase drastically. Most times it was better not to check.

"You know," he muses, "there's a whole generation of kids that hate me 'cause of the high school fitness videos."

You turn to him incredulously. "The what?"

Steve shuts his mouth.

Additional scene #2

The office is muted. Beige, white, cream. It's professional but not cold. It's calculated.

There's a table behind the swivel chair Dr Nasser sits on, but he hasn't seen her using it to date.

He's practically memorised the whole layout.

"How was your week?" she asks, clipboard balanced neatly on her leg.

Her hair was thin and pushed back behind her ears, and glasses hung from a chain around her neck. She had to be a few years younger than him, thirties he thinks, and she's got a warm look in her eye.

Steve shrugs. "Same old. How was yours?"

"It was good," she replies like always before looking back down at her sheet. "What do you mean by same old?"

“Woke up, met with people, go back home." Rinse, wash, repeat.

“So the schedule hasn't changed at all in this last month.” She finally writes something. It's rare, he never really gives her a reason to note anything down. “How are we looking on the 'time for yourself' front?"

“Lunch breaks, the occasional weekend," Steve says, picking apart the fake fern in the corner of the room with his sight. "Sometimes I pretend I’m sick.”

She cracks a smile at that. His lips quirk upwards, fingers intertwining and releasing themselves.

"Any updates on the yoga, meditation... anything of that sort?"

“Can't say there is." There are seven leaves. Last time there were eight.

“Have you met any of your friends?”

“Whenever I can.” Steve moves on to the pot in the other end of the room,

The doctor doesn’t show any sign of agreement or disagreement with his method. Only clicks her pen before looking back up at him.

"Are you comfortable Steve?"

He adjusts in his seat slightly. "I am, yes."

"I mean, during our sessions," she corrects gently. "Are you comfortable during our sessions?"

There are nine leaves in that one. Funny, there were eight last week.

"I am," he replies, one arm crossed over his chest while the other rest on the armchair.

"I'm asking because you've been coming here for weeks now, Steve, and all we’ve discussed so far is the weather."

"Cloudy today, isn’t it?” He gives her a wry smile.

She gives him a unaffected one in return.

It's not her fault. She was just doing her job, and unfortunately, got stuck with the world's most emotionally constipated man.

“Why are you here, Captain?” Dr Nasser asks finally.

“You know why, doctor.” Steve's cheek leans on his fingers, leaving behind indents.

“It’s a part of your deal, I know,” she says, “but why are you here?”

Steve’s smile is tight. “What would you want to hear?”

She writes down something on her notepad. Steve's nose twitches.

“Your actual reason why you keep coming back,” she says when she looks back up again.

Steve's brows pull together lightly at her implication, though he has no idea what it actually is.

“Why do you think I keep coming here?” he asks again.

Her head tilts. “I could name plenty of reasons why, but that’s not the point. It has to come from you.”

Steve observes her the same way she does him. A little guilt springs up in him-- she's been trying and he hasn't at all.

He clears his throat, glancing down for a second before back up. “I was told it’s the only way they’d let me come in.”

“To help with the aftermath, you said?” she clarifies, looking at the three total lines she probably had on him.

"Yes,” he replies. “Relocation, search and rescue for people missing after the battle.”

“Right, the Battle of Earth.” Dr. Nasser writes something down. He follows the movement of her pen. “We haven't talked in too much detail about that.”

He doesn’t know what’s there to talk about. Everyone knew what had happened, the details were there in a public forum. Articles upon articles, documentaries upon documentaries had been made in the few months since it had gotten over, and they were still pouring in.

So Steve asks, “What would you like to know?”

“Your side of it,” she responds. "I could read about the battle anywhere. What I’m interested in is your side, how you’re dealing with it.”

Steve wants to smile bitterly at the fact that she only knows what they wanted everyone to know, but he couldn’t tell her that either.

"I deal with it just fine, I think," he says distantly.

"What do you mean by just fine?"

If this was what one on one therapy was like, it's a wonder why he doesn't care for it much.

"Well--" he blinks-- "I'm here, aren't I?"

"Are you happy?"

"About?"

"The win," she answers. "Sad? Angry? How do you feel about the team's success?"

A win? The words rest so disgustingly on his shoulders, the weight of a double-edged sword like everything else in his life.

He got the serum only to watch the closest person he had to a mentor die in his arms. He went down with the plane only to be pulled out in a year he didn’t belong in. He fought a civil war to lose his team, the War for the Stones only to lose half the fucking planet, the Battle of Earth only to lose friends who had become family. He fought and fought and fought and over the years, he started losing himself like sand slipping through his fingers.

Steve didn’t know what win was without the burden of loss. He didn’t know happiness without tragedy, and like mortality and death, they found themselves inseparable.

“We tried our best,” he says. “I don’t think it’s up to me to judge whether we succeeded or not.”

She looks at him with a strange sort of expression, like she's deciding what to make of what he said. Trying to decipher him, like he's some puzzle to be solved.

“If I’m being honest, Steve,” she begins, “from what you've told me, it doesn’t look like you’ve given yourself time to process what happened.”

He did process what had happened and look where it got him. Dreaming of people long gone and stolen cake in army convoys.

“I’m not sure what’s left to think about, doctor.” His voice is level, methodical.

A quick glance at the wall.

A note of the time.

The doctor’s head tilted slightly, staring intently at him. “Do you feel restless, Steve?”

All the fucking time, like an itch at the back of his throat he can’t get rid of.

“Sometimes.”

“And what do you do when you do feel that way?”

“Walk around. Park’s open pretty early. There’s a gym a few blocks away.”

“Physical activity- does it help?”

“It does the trick.”

“Are you restless now?”

His fingers stop tapping against his thigh, tongue in cheek and wry when he asks, “Who, me?”

Her smile returns with the realisation that it may not have been the smartest question, head turned down.

"Why do you think you're restless?"

A glance at the wall.

A note of the time.

"Been that way since I was a kid."

She shifts in her seat, picking up her pen again. Steve's realises it's the first time he's let anything about his past slip.

"Why were you restless as a child?"

His back is still stiff against the futon, and there's thirty minutes to go.

"Had places to go, things I wanted to do," he replies unclearly.

"What's changed since then?"

Well, nothing, really. There were still places to go and things to do and to a certain degree he did want to do them. The rest was...

"My mom's not there to lock the door so I don't walk out at three in the morning."

The corner of her lip tugs up. "How old were you?"

"Seven? Maybe eight." Steve squints.

Either way, he started climbing out the window after that, so it wasn't like he was trapped.

"Where did seven year old you go at three in the morning?"

"Hung out with this neighbour kid of mine on the roof sometimes." Steve shrugs. "If it was during the day I'd go down to the store and spend a couple of hours."

"You'd spend hours at the... grocery store?" she asks, trying to clarify.

"There was a guy there I liked. He always thought I was annoying but he let me stick around." Steve smiles briefly, letting his other arm cross over his chest.

Other times-- most times-- it was with Bucky, who'd also climbed out on his fire escape to silence Steve's incessant rock throwing at his window. They didn't really have any place to go, so they did as any fifteen year old would do; jumped over the gate and into the park to skip some stones across the pond.

Steve's mind sharply wipes away the memory and his focus snaps back to the lady before him, one leg crossed over the other, arms resting on them.

She's already looking at him. He genuinely hopes he wasn't staring at her when he zoned out.

"You know, Steve," she pipes up when he doesn't say anything, "I don't know a whole lot about you even though this is our fifth session."

He exhales deeply through his nose, but his gaze is unwavering.

"But--" she looks down at the paper-- "this is the first time your answers don't seem so calculated."

Steve doesn't have any comment. He watches her twist to put aside the notepad on the table behind her.

"What does talking about the past make you feel?"

"At home."

Her eyebrows quirk up in the slightest, like she didn't expect an answer from him so soon.

"Feels familiar," he says further.

"Easy?" she offers.

He nods.

A glance at the wall.

A note of the time.

"Do you feel more connected to the past than you do with the present?"

Steve wants to get up and leave. There's still seventeen minutes to go.

"I don't know," he replies stiffly.

And just like that it's over.

There is tension in the air, mainly from his side because he knows to her, this had to be a breakthrough.

She reaches behind her to pick up the note pad again, clicking the pen against her thigh as she writes something down. Steve can feel a twinge of annoyance in him.

She finishes scribbling something. He can see she's halfway down the paper already.

"How do you feel about a little homework, Steve?"

Steve's eyes flick down to her notes and back up at her. “Haven’t really done any in the last century or so.”

"It's a small task," she explains, "just to let you embrace that part of you fully before we go forward."

Steve raises an eyebrow.

"Let's do this, shall we? Why don't you create a list of things that remind you of the past?"

"What kind of list?" His voice is a lot rougher than it had been a moment ago.

"Could be anything. List of people, places, things. If you wanna bring it in here next session too, that'd be great." She flashes him a kind smile. "What do you think?"

He thinks he's dug himself a grave here. He was having trouble enough as it was. He could already feel his mind slip past his tight grip and into a spiral.

"I'll try, I guess," he replies almost robotically.

It seems to satisfy her, though. He can tell from the look in her eyes that she’s only the littlest bit exhilarated at the crack in his shell.

“That was a lot, Steve,” she notes, leaning back slightly. “How are you feeling?”

A glance at the wall.

A note of the time.

"I feel fine," he says.

#steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #mcu fic #steve fic #steve rogers fic #steve fluff #steve rogers fluff #steve angst #steve rogers angst #bridges break fic #captain america x reader #captain america fluff #captain america angst

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cynettic · 3 years

Note

Hey so I just read the Laser Tag AU and maaaan, now I really want to play Splatoon smh aksksjjdjs

Anywayyy my point is: may I request more hcs but with the other boyos (Childe, Albedo, Bennett, Razor, Chongyun, Xingqiu and maybe Aether if you do him too xD)

Laser Tag ( genshin x reader )

Summary - Genshin characters playing laser tag with you their s/o.

Pairings - Reader x Childe/Bennett/Razor/Chongyun/Albedo/Scaramouche

Warnings - Mention of guns and shooting.

A/N - Added in Scaramouche- But I couldn’t think of anything for Xingqiu. I can surprisingly see the majority of the Genshin boys being good at wielding guns, even though they’d probably suck lol

Laser Tag

Childe

Childe is a beast.

Whether it’s in the terrain of his battlefield, or the streets of Liyue playing laser tag, Childe plays to win. He’s always been the competitive type, enjoying the thrill of battle, or in this case, laser tag.

He loves the game.

And of course, you just have to end up on the opposite team as him.

This game is the perfect setup for an enemies to lovers kind of vibe btw. With him shooting at your comrades and eliminating them from left to right, and you doing the same for his team. Very few people stand against him in this game, and his accuracy and sense of battle.

The two of you will spend the entirety of the game playing cat and mouse. Childe chasing after you while you simply escape his sights every time, taking down his teammates while you’re at it.

Childe isn’t as interested in winning, and once you prove to be worthy of a decent laser tag battle, he tries his best to force you to confront him.

Of course you on the other hand take his reckless behaviour to your advantage to turn the game in your favour and strike down his team. You know it’ll piss him off later when you win.

However, it Childe does manage to catch you…

The two of you will fight, that much is obvious. Dodging and attacking him, he will get very into it. Maybe a little too much, but you don’t give in, not until the very end.

Not until he’s on top of you, the two of you toppled over a bunch of hay that cushions your fall when he crashes into you. Not until he’s holding the plastic revolver against your temple, staring straight into your eyes with his signature smirk.

He might sneak a little kiss in there just to throw you off.

But in the end he will make sure he wins, or rather, he eliminates you. He doesn’t care if he doesn’t win the entirety of the game, taking you down was satisfactory enough, and he feels well accomplished and content after.

Would definitely rub it in your face.

If you brush it off as something you didn’t really try in, be prepared to be pinned against the wall and kissed until you admit that you were in fact, doing your best. And yes, he won fair and square.

Bennett

Omg this precious boy-

Bennett will try his hardest, stick by your side and shoot at any approaching target. Considering that the two of you are on the same team, he will promise to protect you.

With one problem.

No matter how well he aims, whether it is going to hit his target or not, the lazer disagrees. Rather, his terrible luck absolutely ruins it and somehow his lazer point ends up somewhere completely else.

“It changed its direction completely!”

Well… you never know, maybe it’s the gun that sends the lazers ray so far off, but considering it’s Bennett, you know it’s no coincidence.

So you end up protecting him.

Dragging him from place to place and shooting down your opponents, the two of you spend your time tripping over random large ass rocks ( with only Bennett’s terrible luck to blame ) and attacking opponents.

You make sure that Bennett is not shot, no matter what. And you give everyone else a terrible glare that basically screams that if they shoot him, they’ll face your wrath.

Nobody shoots Bennett.

By the end of the game, he’ll be grinning ear to ear. And even if he didn’t manage to eliminate anyone, he’ll boast about how his amazing dodging skills pulled him through the game. You’ll agree, lacing an arm around his shoulders and pulling him to the good Hunter to get a good meal.

Just to buy one though, the poor boy can’t cook for his life.

Razor

“Razor… very confused.”

The wolf boy has difficulty with the rules of the game, but the concept of pointing the gun at an opponent and shooting them with a lazer isn’t too hard to grasp.

You find out very quickly that Razor is actually pretty good with aim.

His hands don’t shake for one, and he is so adept to his surroundings that people struggle finding the source of their depleting health. Despite being overall confused at how to play, Razor easily becomes one of the main players taking opponents down.

As someone on his team, he makes sure to keep you by his side the entire time. He understands the elimination part, and he doesn’t want his lupical to get taken out, even if it’s a game.

He can be oddly affectionate at certain times, pushing your face against his chest as he takes out the remaining players in the field you both are in. He will carry you, and take no hesitation when pulling you out of the way, even if it’s a little too rough.

When the game ends, it might take a while to explain to the poor boy that your team won. And that it was a good thing.

Razor will begin to smile when he notices how content you are with it.

Chongyun

This man has the audacity to wield a gun while licking his ‘popsicle.’

Like goddamnit Chongyun, being good at shooting is already a flex, you don’t have to nibble at your popsicle while you’re at it.

You can’t really blame him though, it’s hot outside, and with the sun beaming down on the poor boy's head you know he can’t stand it. Especially with all the adrenaline and yells from opposing teams.

As someone on the same team as him, you take on the job of Chongyun’s personal popsicle restocker, and shooting anyone down once he gets tired. As good as the boy is at shooting, he sucks at keeping himself unknown to the other players.

So you take on the job to make sure they don’t shoot him down.

The two of you are a good team, and if it gets too hot, Chongyun might even let you have one of his popsicles. Of course you don’t have his talent of being able to shoot while having a popsicle in your mouth-

Your team will end up losing though, and even though Chongyun isn’t bothered, he will be slightly worried if you care. The two of you were obviously trying your best, and as long as you both had fun that’s all that matters to him.

But if it really bothers you that much…

He knows you feel comforted by physical contact, so he’ll hold your hand and offer a comforting smile. Tell you that you played well, and that he had fun.

That cheers you up right away.

Kiss him on the cheek please, even though he will flinch at the contact, his cheeks are flushed red and he won’t admit it. But he likes it.

Albedo

Why is it so easy to picture Albedo as a hot sexy stoic mafioso wielding a gun?

Anyways, Albedo is terribly good at wielding a gun. So good at that he only holds the plastic revolver with one hand, never missing a shot as he walks down the streets of Monstadt.

He knows the area well, so good luck trying to sneak up on him. The way his eyes so carelessly sweep the buildings, it hardly looks like he’s trying. Eliminating players with his lasers as he mindlessly strides past the fountain.

Of course, you’re against him.

Albedo isn’t really motivated to play, he’d rather be in his lab experimenting or recording down his discoveries. But he was dragged into this mess, he might as well play his part and support his team.

Albedo won’t hesitate to shoot at you and take you down.

As much as you may be important to you, he plays this game fair and square. He will take you down, or rather, he will try, because you get creative :)

He knows Monstadt well, but he can’t possibly keep his eye on all angles around him. So you’ll aim for his blind spots, throw yourself at him and tackle him to the ground. Simply eliminating him isnt satisfying enough, you need more.

So you turn this into a little game to fluster him.

Tackle him and pin him down, watch him scramble for the gun and then give him a peck on the lips. Watch as his grip loosens, and one of his hands instinctively come to nestle against your hair to pull you closer, and then you pull away.

Watching his idle confusement turn into a light blush on his cheeks is just too good, and how he grows even redder when you start laughing is even better.

Of course his team wins, not that he cares.

The minute the game ends he’s back in his office, conducting experiments. You can go interrupt him though, sneak into his office and press a kiss against his neck. He doesn’t often react or do much to it, but after your linger kiss at the game, he will pull you close and sit you on his lap. Have a proper make out session after you left him hanging with that peck earlier ;)

Scaramouche

This little man is ‘terrifying’.

It’s scary enough that whether you’re against him or on the same team as him, you keep your distance.

“Are you avoiding me Y/n?”

You play on the same team, and even if he’s your boyfriend, you know better than to stay too close when it comes to battle. He shows his cruelty, and you really weren’t looking forward to be put in the middle of that.

‘Unfortunately you didn’t have a choice-‘

Scaramouche will literally drag you, a hand looped around your waist to tug you to his side and take you along with him as he takes down opponents after opponents. He doesn’t ask for your praise, but you still give him it knowing he appreciates it. Mentally.

When he’s tired or bored, he will lean his head on your shoulder, wait there for a bit before jumping back up and shooting a random straggler on the sides. Heavens knows how the boy knows he was there, it’s like he has some sixth sense.

We don’t even want to get into his accuracy and precision, Scaramouche is born a mafioso.

At the end when your team wins, no surprise, give him a hug. Tell him he did well and even if he tries to push away, hold him tight. Even though he could easily pull your arms away if he wanted to, he’ll just pretend to give a little struggle and then give in to your warmth.

#genshin #genshin oneshot #genshin headcanons #genshin fluff #genshin childe #genshin Scaramouche #genshin razor #genshin bennett #genshin albedo #childe x reader #Scaramouche x reader #razor x reader #bennett x reader #albedo x reader #genshin chongyun #chongyun x reader #laser tag #cynshealthysfw

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raplinesmoon · 2 years

Text

Cooking For Two (KSJ x GN!Reader)

pairing: ex-boyfriend Seokjin! x reader (any pronouns) genre(s): just angst... i'm sorry au(s): exes to exes word count: 1.3k warnings: lots of regret, pining, misunderstandings, mentions of a past fight, Seokjin gets burned, both literally and figuratively rating: PG15

summary: based on this tweet, "seokjin the type to make too much pasta after a breakup because he's used to cooking for two" T_T

a/n: i was itching to write some good angst... and my muse (aka Jin) responded! this is sad, and i made myself cry. tagging @beckysworld7 because you encouraged me hehe <3 this is pretty unedited btw

Seokjin's ears fill with a loud hiss, tearing his gaze away from the soft patter of rain outside his window, and back to the boiling water on the stove. His eyes widen as he takes in the sight of the water overflowing and sizzling on the hot stove top. Cursing internally, he chastises himself for not remembering to put a wooden spoon over the top. It was a habit he rarely forgot, until, of course, his life had been tossed so far afield that he had lost all sense of familiarity.

And so, he continued on, fighting tooth and nail to hold on to the parts of his life that defined who he was before it had happened. However, the breakup had left him broken, empty, watching you take the best parts of him, of you both, and throw them away like they’d never meant anything at all.

He reaches over to pull the frothing pot off the stove, yelping as the blistering heat of the hot metal kisses his bare skin. Shaking his hand, he yells in pain and runs cold water over the burn, searching for some sort of relief. The taste of ash coats his mouth, and he’s not sure whether it’s from the pasta he’d nearly burnt, or the acrid memories that have begun to rise up from the deep place he’d buried them so many months ago.

Pappardelle with homemade bolognese sauce. He’d made the dish a thousand times before. It had been your favorite after every night out, every big celebration, even on rainy days, like today, when you weren't feeling well. The fresh, al dente noodles and the simmering hearty sauce were irrevocably tied to the memory of your relationship, each bite creating a different snapshot in his brain of times that had passed long ago.

Every Friday night since the last time he saw you, Seokjin made two bowls of pasta, sitting alone at the dining table, breathless and begging for you to walk through the door. Waiting until the steaming bowls ran cold, he finally accepted that you weren't coming today. After finishing one bowl, he'd put away the other one, sneaking bites of the cold, rubbery dough throughout the weekend; coming home from another failed date, or right before bed when the longing was at its worst.

He heard Namjoon’s voice in the back of his head, chastising him that the way he was living wasn’t healthy, that it’d been too long since you had gone. Seokjin knew his friend was right. But Seokjin didn’t know how to live his life without you, just like he’d never known how to only make one serving of your favorite recipe. And so he sat there, in the oppressive loneliness of the apartment you two had once shared, and lost himself.

Shuddering from the cold, he gazes over to the warm, calm flames that burn in the fireplace. At the end of it all, he hadn’t even remembered what caused the fight that ended it - all he remembers was the rage, the inferno that had erupted between the two of you. It was like nothing he had experienced before - hot, angry, and scathing. Blazing down everything in its path. The bitter stench of regret had settled deep inside his lungs as your footsteps ran out and closed the door behind you.

The doorbell rings, followed by the distinct sound of three rhythmic knocks, and Seokjin freezes.

Swinging the door open, his dazed mind wonders if it’s all been a dream. Because it’s you, cheeks red from the cold, bundled up in the plaid scarf and red mittens he’d gotten you for your very first Christmas together. You look beautiful, and Seokjin’s heart hurts all over again. Because you’re not his to love anymore.

You look towards his downturned gaze, and immediately think to yourself that it was a mistake coming here. The two of you stand on opposite sides of the threshold, forced into an impasse of your own doing.

Deciding to break the silence, you clear your throat, and Jin’s glassy eyes meet yours, pain contained within their umber depths.

“I’m so sorry for showing up like this,” you gasp, not realizing the words come out as a sob. “But I was making a dish, umm, the pappardelle with bolognese. And I realized I left the Le Creuset pot with you.”

Taking a deep breath, you force air into your lungs, mustering up the strength to continue while feeling the tears prick your eyelashes.

“You probably don’t want to give it back,” you mumble in the smallest voice you can manage. “And it’s unfair of me to ask for it, but I needed to make something for a thing I have to go to and I remembered you, uhmm, I mean your recipe.”

Peering through your lids at Seokjin, you watch him gulp as he tries to force a response, struggling to get the words out.

“I have the pot,” he garbles, voice hoarse. “Take it, and don’t worry about the pasta. I made some. You can have it too.”

Looking your ex-boyfriend in the eyes, the man you thought you’d have forever with, a sob escapes your throat, and your heavy breaths echo in the frosty air as he waits for you to respond.

“W-what do you mean take it?” you whimper, fingers itching underneath your mittens to reach out and brush a stray strand of hair out of his eyes.

“I make it every Friday,” he whispers. “Two bowls. You can take the other bowl with you.”

You watch him disappear into the apartment, coming back out with a sizzling pot of pasta in his hands. He pauses, visage lost deep in contemplation, before the lines in his face disappear and he gives you a soft smile.

“Or,” he goes on. “You could come in and have some with me? There’ll probably be enough leftovers for you to take home with you.”

You feel a pit in your stomach at his proposition, glancing over at his pretty eyes and parted lips as they hopefully await your response.

Looking away, you stare down the hall of the apartment complex, not wanting to meet his gaze as you push your red mitten to the side and Seokjin catches a glimpse at your blanched fingers.

A sparkling, oval-cut diamond sits on your left ring finger, and through your pounding heartbeat, you hear Seokjin let out a pained whine.

“I-, I’m so sorry, Jin. I never should have come,” you weep, knowing that if you looked him in the eyes one more time, you’d fall in love all over again.

Turning on your heels, you leave him devastated, thoughts swimming with uncertainty about the fiancé waiting for you in the parlor of his parents’ house. Knowing deep in your soul that part of your heart would forever belong to the man you left at the threshold, clutching the steaming dish in his hands.

Slamming the pot onto the counter, Jin chokes on his tears, heaving in between deep breaths as he watches you run away through the window.

Lifting the spoon to his lips, he inhales a large bite of the dish, hoping to nurse his broken heart, only to have a dull flavorless bite coat his tongue. He’d forgotten the salt. Mourning the loss of his finesse for the dish that had once warmed his heart, he can’t help but remark at the forfeit of his love for you as well.

He feels rage overtake him, throwing the pot against the wall. The tasteless rubbery mess along with the shattered remnants of the last item of yours he’d kept painting a gut-wrenching portrait as he slumps to the floor.

He doesn’t know how long he stays there, tears leaking from his eyes as his whole body shakes.

When the clock strikes midnight, Seokjin rises, picking up the bland mess in his hands and throwing it in the trash. For good.

A/N pt. 2: Thanks for reading! As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

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dailyreverie · 3 years

Note

hi love! do you think you could do a bucky x poc? (person of color) i’m mixed so i don’t as much representation in these types of blurbs and such, your writing is amazing btw!!

A/N: Thank you so so so much for reading my stuff! I’m glad you like it enough to request this! This is the first time I write a poc so I hope you like it. I think it turned out super cute. This is an 18+ post!

My inbox is always open if you want to request a headcanon or a blurb!

The odds of us

Pairing: Bucky x poc!reader

Word count: 826

Warnings: Fluffy smut. Please don’t read if you are under 18.

Your bodies were glistening with sweat, intertwined with each other, taking in the moment of bliss that just left you both breathless, both of your chests heavy as they raised up and down agitated. If there was something Bucky loved, it was these moments of calm than only the two of you could enjoy.

Your hand is traveling up and down his abdomen, small kisses are being placed on his shoulders as his arm is wrapped around your waist. Bucky would never admit to it, but every day he mentally thanks Sam for introducing him to you.

He would watch you in these moments. The contrast of your skin against his sheets would always leave him speechless just from the thought of you being there. The concept of fate even comes up in his head when he thinks of you wrapped in his arms, since back in the 40s that same thought would not even be allowed to cross his mind.

Your weight shifts in his arm as you roll to lay on your stomach. A small “Hi” leaves your lips as your eyes reach his. The smile plastered on both of your faces making you laugh slightly. He doesn’t say anything back, but the hand laying on your waist travels south to lay on the curve of your lower back, and he stretches his neck to kiss your lips. His tongue is quickly grazing your lower lip, making you chuckle at his hungry mouth.

“You have to give me a couple more minutes to catch my breath, James.” You say against his lips, tracing his jaw with your fingers. “I don’t have enhanced super stamina.”

Bucky’s head throws back with laughter. “Sorry, doll.” His eyes travel all over you again, absorbing every inch of you.

“What?” You ask with a smile, feeling a blush coming up to your cheeks.

“I can’t believe it sometimes, how I got so lucky.”

“It wasn’t luck.” You kiss him softly. “It was Sam forcing us on a date.” Both of you laugh. His fingers move up to your hair and tangle in it, feeling the softness of your curls around his fingers. Your fingers trace his strong jaw before your lips take their place.

“Do you ever think about everything that had to happen for us to be together?” He asks, catching you off-guard with his deep question.

“Are you starting to believe in fate Buck?” One of your eyebrows shoots up as you ask. You rest your chin on his chest, your hands playing with his dog tags.

“I don’t know. I’m just saying, if you were around back in the day we wouldn’t even have met. And then I was in the ice for so long, in and out of it for 80 years, doing… well… all that I did. And all those years later I get to meet you.” His eyes, previously starring at the ceiling, meet yours. There is a softness in them you rarely see. “It feels as if I just had to lose an arm and wait a hundred years to meet you.”

His hand cups your cheek and you turn slightly to kiss his palm. “I’m glad you see it that way now., but I don’t know if I’m worth all that trouble.” Bucky shifted both of you and gracefully placed himself on top of you, his metal hand grasping your waist. “But you do know how I feel about this arm.”

Your hand wrapped around his vibranium bicep as he kissed you deeply. “I remember seeing you talking to Sam at the pier, and how I couldn’t keep my eyes off you.” He says between kisses. “And I thought how every single moment of my life lead me to this.” He speaks against your neck, his breath making goosebumps appear down your chest. You gasp as his hand parts your legs apart, letting him settle himself between them.

“Well, we should thank Sam then.” His lips are connected to your neck, and his hand moves up your thigh until it reaches the warmth between your legs making your hips push against it. A moan escapes your throat and he smiles at you. His metal finger teases your entrance as his face moves upwards to connect your lips to his, his tongue quickly asking for entrance as his finger does the same.

“Fuck, doll.” Bucky groans against your lips as your back arches as his fingers hits a spot. He keeps moving his fingers through it, feeling you quicken your breath and your moans getting more desperate. You feel the warmth exploding all over your body as Bucky makes you ride his hand through it, the contrast of the cold metal against your clit making it even more stimulating.

“Remember me to thank the Wakandans too.” You chuckle out of breath, making him laugh too.

He could never get enough of you wrapped in his sheets for the rest of his days.

#bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky x poc!reader #boyfriend!bucky #bucky barnes #soft bucky #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky x you #bucky blurb #sebastian stan #bucky headcanon #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x poc!reader #bucky barnes imagine #soft!bucky

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kaz11283 · 3 years

Text

The Shape of You

Summary: While at one of Tonys top end parties the god of mischief asks you to dance to your suprise. You didn't think he was the type to dance muchless to the song that he decided to ask you to dsnce to.

Characters: Loki, Thor, Tony, Natalie, Wanda, Clint, Steve

Pairings: you x Loki, you x Thor (platonic), you x Tony (Brother, sister)

ANNOUNCMENTS: I got this idea while listening to "Shape of You", then I really started getting into the story everytime that I listened to it (which was a lot). Ive had this on my head for a while now but i had to finish up I think I'm in love and part 2. I also got 200 followers today, next is 300, lets get this! BTW I know that this is a GIF from High Rise but it gives you a PRETTY good iead whats going on. 💚💚💚

Loki Masterlist

"Why do you insist on bringing me to the boring ass parties Nat?" You asked trying to pull the hem of the dress down that she had picked oit for you. It wad a dark blue thigh length dress with a very low v neck, the shoes where a high heel ankle strap black shoe with small bows on the side the same color as the dress.

"Stop. Stop pulling, your not gonna make it any longer by doing that." She said swatting your hands away. "I bring you to these 'boring ass parties' because you spend to much time in the library doimg research, in your room working, or sitting in the lab trying to make something better. Point is, you are always working."

"I dont hear you complaining when something of yours gets improved, or an upgrade. Nat I love you but I am a weponds expert. I work better in the quite, thats my zone. Not here."

"Is that why you enjoy spending time with Loki? Because I have to tell you y/n hes not really the quite type." She rasied an eyebrow to look st you.

"Hes not the quite type around all of you because you all make snide remarks. Hes usually quite around me because I dont pick on him or call him names." You turned and looked straight at her.

"All of the other reindeer, use to laugh and call him names." Tony sang walking up to the two of you with a drink. "Couldnt be talking about reindeer game could you?"

"Thank you Tony, and we were just finishing talking and Loki." You answered walking off to sit at the bar where Steve and Thor was sitting.

"Your brother throws one heck of a party." Steve saod tilting his beer to his mouth. "Defiantly better than some of the parties I've been to."

"It is a good party but nothing like the ones on Asguard." Thor boomed with laughter. "You must come some time, we would have a grand celebration in your honor."

"Hes always been a little over the top, if you cant tell. Always had an eye for big, expensive things. Flamboyant parties, playboy style women, expensive cars. Whatever he wants he gets, now dont get me wrong he does work his ass off, but sometimes it would be nice to just have a weekend were the walls didnt shake while I am trying to work on something."

"Ah but little sister, all work and no play makes y/n a dull boy." Tony answered lightly slapping your back.

"Jesus Christ Tone, stop quoting movies, it gets rather annoying."

"Another round, bartender, for little sister." Tony said ruffling your hair.

"You realize I cant stand you right?" You shot him a sideways look.

"Thats why I dont let you work on my toys." He answered giving you a kiss on the top of the head before walking off.

"Thor?" You turned to the god of thunder.

"Yes Lady y/n?" He turned to were he was facing you, his legs on either side of your thighs.

"Do you know of your brother is going to show up?" He laughed turning back to the bar. "Dont get me wrong I absolutly love your company but...."

"You would rather have the company of a more slender, raven haired man tonight." He raised a brow while taking a drink of his beer.

"Well, yes. He is quite interesting to say the least." You laugh.

"Well lady y/n, he said he would be down shortly. He did say he was going to make an apperance though."

"Thank you." You stood, leaning down to kiss his cheek before walking off to find someone else interesting to talk to.

"Hey y/n! Over here!" Clint shouted waving you over to were he, Nat, and Wanda were sitting.

You sat talking to them for a little bit about what new stuff you had added to their weapons and gear, Clint was excited about trying out some of the new arrows that you had developed. You kept gnacing around the room hoping to catch a glips of Loki when he decided to come down.

While you and Wanda was in the middle of a conversation you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning slightly you seen Loki stamding there was a know it all smirk on his face, he was wearing a completly black suit with his hair slicked back, you coud have swore that your heart stopped.

"Hello Darling, I heard you had been asking about me?" He offered you his hand to help you stand.

You laughed tucking your chin down slightly, you could feel your cheeks heat up. "I am going to kill your brother." He lead you back to the bar and getting you a drink handing it to you.

"You look quite ravishing tonight." He leaned in whispering in your ear. "Dont start being bashful tonight, after what happened last night." He had caught you off guard causing you to spit your drink back in your glass.

"Loki," you hissed smacking him on his shoulder. "We dont need Tony going all Iron Man on you tonight."

"Dance with me." He took your glass sitting it back on the bar and grabbed your hand.

"Oh no no no no. I dont dance." You tried stopping but he pulled you to the edge of the damce floor.

"Then dont dance, let the music guide you, or just follow my lead." He grabbed your waist pulling you closer to him, the song was an up beat song and he started moving. "Midguardian dances are so simple, it would be a type of tango I am assuming." He took you hand and wrapped it around the back of his head before placing his hand on your lower back pulling you even closer.

"This is crazy." You laughed after a few practice steps. It was simple yet intimate at the same time, you had a feeling you knew where this was heading.

"But simple, you are better than what you give your self credit for." He spund you around a few times as the tempo changed, when he spun you back to him his chest ws aginst your back as his hamd splayed across your abdomen.

He traced his nose up the side of your neck as you both moved causing you to give a small moan. "My bed sheets still smell like you." He whispered.

"Loki, can I let you in on a secret." You turned back in his arms to face him.

"Of course my dear." His fingers stroked your back.

"I think I'm in love with you." You wrapped your hand around his head so that you could pull his ear down to your level. You heard him take a breath and the dancing faltered slightly but he kept moving.

"It feels as though I might be returning those feelings y/n." You smiled up at him he turned you in a few more circles causing you to be facing away from him again. His hips following yours in a delicious manner causing your thoughts to go back to the night before. His trailing kisses down your neck to your collar bones, fingers caressing up your sides pulling your shirt over your head. You returning the favor and being speechless at finally seeing him with out his shirt on. He had a more slender figure but his muscles were still there. Remembering the feeling of his chest clenching as you ran your fingers up and around his neck to pull him closer for the earth shattering kiss that had lead to so much more.

"You reliving some of last nights activities, y/n?" He asked quietly.

"Yes but sadly I am having trouble remembering some parts. You might have to remind me." The song ended as you pulled him off the dance floor and through the doors leading to the hallway.

~~~~~

Tag List:

@kgirardin

@sophlubbwriting

@supbeeches

@high-functioning-lokipath

@rosaline-black

@serpentargo

@drbaureid

ANNOUNCEMENT 2: Wow wow wow, ok so some slightly adult situations but oh dear lord, my face is a little red just from writting that. I've read worst but never wrote. What I would give to be twirled around the dance floor like that by him. Thank you guys for reading! I really hope you enjoy this one. Like I saod I have been thinking about this for about a week now and here it is. I habe to say this is like top 3 of my faves (my first was and still is my fave "Bath Time For a Prince") Thank you again for all the love and the support!!!!

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thran-duils · 3 years

Text

Doll Me Up (P.9)

Title: Doll Me Up (Part Nine) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Tony Stark. On good days, you and Tony were a power couple. You, a perfect trophy wife with your hands in local charities to promote a wholesome image. Tony, business man but sullied with organized crime. He indulged in his illegal gambling, extortion, and political corruption. And he indulged in his escort business. Hell, that is where he had found you. You were a brat, and he loved a challenge. Words: 2,991 Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, smut, daddy kink, dom/sub, manipulation, death, violence, possessive behavior, drug use

Author’s Note: I apologize if the tags haven’t been working. I was using the new beta editor but I’ve switched back to traditional! BTW, I think I am coming up to the close on the fic soon! Just a head’s up.

Part Eight || Part Ten || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

~A month ago…

You heard someone walk into the living room and you peeked out from your cocoon of blankets you had set up for yourself, curled up on the couch, watching tv. Happy cocked an eyebrow seeing you, his eyes running over the seltzer water and all the blankets.

“Are you okay?” he questioned.

“I don’t feel great,” you said, taking another sip of your water. You wished Tony was home, but he had gone on a business trip. Happy had stayed behind to keep an eye on you. Tony trusted him more than any of his other men to make sure you were kept safe in his absence.

“Do you need to go to the doctor?” Happy asked concerned.

You shrugged, “I’m just nauseous. I don’t think it’s anything serious. I might have eaten something bad.”

Happy did not look convinced. “Tell me if it gets worse. And I’ll get you an appointment.”

Nodding, you picked your water back up and took another drink, hoping the carbonation would help settle your stomach. You did not even bother to tell Tony later around dinner time when he called to check in, brushing it off.

It subsided later in the day and you thought you were in the clear until the next morning – very early, 4:00am – it hit again. Groaning, you could not ignore the swirling and you got out of bed, rubbing at your eyes.

FRIDAY set on the baseboard lights as you walked downstairs to guide your way.

You opened the bag of bread and took a slice out, stuffing it into your mouth as you closed the bag back up. Taking a large bite, you chewed slowly. Maybe you were having acid reflux and the bread would help soak it up.

You meandered, swallowing the first bite, as you approached the door to the patio. You laid your hand on it and it unlocked for you. Stepping outside, you inhaled the fresh air deeply. That made you feel slightly better.

<><><>

In Berlin, Tony’s watch beeped. He looked away from the table where he was having a late lunch with a fellow boss and their crew that was helping him secure capital in the city. FRIDAY was alerting him that Y/N had activated the system to go outside. His face screwed up in confusion, calculating quickly what time it was back home in Malibu. It would be a little after 4:25am.

“Excuse me, would you?” Tony asked and the other boss nodded, taking a drink of their beer. Tony slipped his tablet out of his bag as he left the table.

Walking away from the table, he moved towards the balcony overlooking the city. Holding the tablet up, he accessed the cameras at home, pulling up the outside cameras since she had left to the patio. He was on edge, wondering what the hell she was doing outside so early.

She was just sitting in one of the chairs, eating a piece of bread, which only served to confuse him more. But at least she was there; she had not run off.

He watched her for a few moments before movement by the door caught his eye and he saw Happy step outside.

“Good man,” Tony said under his breath, knowing FRIDAY would have alerted Happy too in the guest room he was in per Tony’s programming. He would have been severely disappointed if Happy had not come outside to check on her.

The two of them were speaking and Tony did not miss the concerned look on Happy’s face.

Suddenly, Y/N jerked forward, vomiting all over the cement, barely missing Happy’s slippers much to Tony’s shock. Was she hung over? That would explain the bread.

Happy came closer and his hand came to her back, steadying her as she leaned over the side of the chair. He was speaking quickly to her and she shook her head, and he shook his right back at her. Tony watched Happy settle her back and hold up a hand to her, before he went back towards the door, leaving her out there.

When he came back out, he had some napkins and some water. She shook her head at the water and he forced it towards her.

“Looks like someone had a little too much fun last night,” Tony said to himself before closing the camera. He had no further reason to be concerned about it; it looked like Happy had it perfectly under control.

Which is why when he had just got sat back down at the table, his cell phone started to ring. The other boss laughed at his expense, making a comment about him being a busy man. Tony apologized and checked his watch, seeing it was Happy. He excused himself again quickly and got up.

“What?” Tony asked. “I just got sat down at the table.”

“I’m gonna make an appointment for Y/N. Where do you want her to go?” Happy cut in immediately.

“What? What for?”

“She doesn’t feel good.”

“Yeah, I saw. Got a good view of that vomit. How much did she have to drink last night?”

“Nothing. She didn’t drink anything,” Happy told him, surprising Tony. “She didn’t feel well yesterday either and I told her to tell me if it got worse. Did she tell you when she spoke to you on the phone last night?”

“No. What do you mean she’s not feeling well?”

“Nausea she said. Maybe she has a stomach bug, I don’t know. But food poisoning doesn’t generally last two days.”

Tony rubbed his forehead and sighed. “Um, just take her to my guy. She’s on my insurance plan. She’s been to him before.”

“Not the ER?”

“You think it’s an ER type of situation?”

“I’m not sure. I mean, throwing up usually isn’t an ER thing but I don’t know.”

“Did she throw up yesterday?”

“No, not that I know of.”

“No other symptoms?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” Tony said to himself more than anything. He pondered on it and tapped the railing as he weighed the options. Something came to him then and he straightened up. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he thought more about it.

“Boss?”

Shaking his head, Tony cleared his throat, “You know, no. On second thought, no. No doctor or ER.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’m heading back tonight. You know, if she starts showing other symptoms, take her to the doctor. My guy. But I think she’ll be fine.”

Happy said slowly, “Um, alright…”

“Morning sickness, Hap. Not to get too excited about it yet but… fits the bill.”

“Oh,” Happy said and Tony could hear the realization peaking in his voice. “Right.”

“So, just keep an eye on her. I’ll be on the plane soon and then I’ll just stop on the way home at the pharmacy. Get a test,” Tony said, feeling lighter about the situation. “Order her some 7-Up or something, soups. Just keep her comfortable for me, yeah?”

“You got it,” Happy confirmed.

<><><>

“We have lunch plans, but Tony is taking forever,” you told Steve as the two of you boarded the elevator to go down further into the building.

Anticipation was nipping at your heels; you had not explored this part of the building yet. Steve had come to speak to Tony but when he was told by Angelica that Tony was busy, he was quick to brush off needing to see him. He just needed to go downstairs to pick something up. You had practically thrown down the magazine you were pretending to read, asking if you could come with. He had been polite and courteous, telling you he would love the company. Angelica looked like she wanted to say something, but you purposely ignored her, walking by and following Steve.

“Oh? Where are you going for lunch?” Steve asked interested.

“This place Pepper suggested. Mario’s. Up in the Bronx.”

“Never been.”

“I trust her opinion. She seems to know what she’s talking about.”

“That she does,” Steve smiled back.

“What are you doing here though?” you inquired, switching gears.

“I need another set of batteries for one of my weapons.”

“You couldn’t go to the store?” you asked confused.

Steve chuckled, throwing you an amused look. “No, they’re special batteries.”

“Oh…”

Steve immediately noticed your embarrassment and he quickly said, “Not like you would know that. That’s something I would think too. But the batteries are special. What you said was logical.”

Logical. Not an adjective you heard attributed to you often. Maybe never.

The elevator door opened, and you hesitated seeing the men standing guard outside it but Steve strode out, unperturbed by them. You followed him, catching up to his long strides.

“Why did you want to come down here though besides Tony taking too long?” Steve asked, eyeing you curiously as the pair of you walked.

“One, I was bored as you can imagine, waiting for him to finish whatever he was doing. And two, Tony didn’t let me see anything except his office or the boardroom since I’ve been here. Said it wasn’t important for me to see it. But I want to.”

“Hmm,” Steve said shooting you a look. “You think you should be down here then?”

“I don’t see why not. I can keep secrets well enough if that’s what everyone is worried about.”

Steve’s lips curled into a soft smile at that, his eyes running over you.

You were taking in all the people working, the technology they were using. It was like the garage back home where Tony worked but far, far more busy. It was a little overwhelming.

Steve was nodding at random people who greeted him in awe. He came to a stop in front of someone though standing behind a desk.

She looked up and smiled, recognizing him on sight. “That was quick, Cap.” He eyes turned to you and she faltered, “And…”

“Y/N. Tony’s wife,” Steve introduced you.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize you,” she apologized immediately. You took note that her bade said her name was Eva.

“How could you have? I’ve never been down here before,” you said, giving her a small reassuring smile.

She relaxed at your calm demeanor and turned to grab something off the desk behind her. Handing it to Steve, she told him, “So, there’s backups in there too so you don’t need to make another trip so soon.”

“Nice, that’s thoughtful. Thank you,” Steve commented.

“You’re going to want to update your system though. I’ll send you a link to do so on the secure network,” Eva went on explaining.

“Alright, I’ll figure it out.” Steve looked at you and said sheepishly, “Tech isn’t my strong point. I have gotten better though, so there’s hope.”

“I can’t keep up with Tony sometimes and I’ve been around technology my whole life. I mean, my whole house is a giant computer essentially,” you responded. “Could not even begin to explain to you how it works.”

“It’s complicated but it’s helpful right?” Eva asked lightheartedly. You nodded and she said, “I’ll be the first to admit I wouldn’t be able to keep up with how Mr. Stark talks about tech either. Could not even begin to fathom how his brain works. I swear he’s not speaking English sometimes when he’s giving presentations.”

You snorted, as did Steve. “I can attest to that,” Steve agreed. “I just let him lead when it comes to this type of stuff.”

You could relate to that. You let Tony lead in pretty much every facet.

“Same. It’s just easier to stand behind him,” you said. Steve’s brow creased at your comment and you suddenly felt uncomfortable. Trying to draw attention away from it, you gestured at the box. “May I?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve said, handing it over to you.

You opened the box and touched the odd shaped metal. “Definitely doesn’t look like normal batteries.”

“Nope,” Eva agreed.

Steve was looking at you with purpose when you handed the box back to him. His gaze slid to Eva and he asked, “Do you have some time?”

“For what, Mr. Rogers?”

“A small tour. Mrs. Stark hasn’t been able to see around the building because Tony has been busy, and a little explanation of some things down here might scratch her itch?” Steve looked at you for approval. “I mean, if you want that, of course.”

Excitement flared up and you nodded, “Yeah. I probably have time. Especially if there’s things to look at that won’t put me in a ‘we can show you but then we will have to kill you’ type of spot.”

Eva laughed at that. “There’s some of that available, yes.” She gestured past the desk behind her. “Shall we?”

Steve held out his arm to you and you took it appreciatively.

Eva started at a microchip, explaining it had the startings of being able to upload a personality to a robot to mimic a sentient being.

“So, like Vision?” you asked.

“Yes. Like Vision. But definitely nowhere near as advanced or powerful as he is. This is… it would be like a bodyguard for example?”

“A nanny for the baby when you need a break?” Steve joked quietly into your ear. You looked at him perplexed at the admission he knew and his smile fell. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—Tony told the team. I’m sorry if it was still supposed to be a secret?”

You waved it off quickly. “It’s fine. It’s you guys he told. You’re not nobodies.”

Though you did dislike that Tony was being so free with the information. You were only about two months along. He was getting too excited about it too soon whereas you were worried, your pessimism getting the better of you.

“And I’m sure I’ll need a break,” you joked back to Steve and he relaxed as the two of you followed Eva, her pointing things out that she could share.

You were so engrossed in what she was saying you only saw Tony’s reflection in the glass wall behind her at the last second.

You turned your head quickly and said innocently, “You’re done upstairs, then?”

“Rogers,” Tony said tightly, his eyes shooting to your arms intertwined before snapping back to Steve’s face. He looked very suspicious; you knew that look. Jealousy.

“Tony,” Steve returned, and he gracefully let your arm fall. He held up the box, “Thanks for the battery replacement. And the reminder to come grab it. I definitely would have forgotten without it.”

Tony by stepped his last comments. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Sure,” Steve said, tossing Eva a look. He held up the box to her now and said, “Thanks for being so prompt with this. It was helpful. And thanks for the walk.”

<><><>

When they were out of earshot, Tony told him firmly in hushed tones, “I’m not sure why you thought it was appropriate but don’t bring Y/N down here in the future.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know she wasn’t allowed until we were already down here,” Steve said and he saw Tony frown deeply. “She did say you didn’t wanna show her around the building after we came down here and I did ask if she thought she should be down here at all. Figured to just keep her close until we went back upstairs.”

“No, she shouldn’t be down here. I don’t want her knowing anything. Puts her at risk, knowledge. Kidnappings and whatnot.”

“I think being married to you, Tony, is what puts her at risk for that.”

Tony’s closed lipped smile did not reach his eyes; he was not amused with Steve’s quip.

“Regardless, for the future, don’t let the curiosity kill the cat. She’s better off naïve about it. Even if she’s learning on the arm of America’s golden boy.”

Silence ate away at the two of them for a few moments before Steve shrugged, relenting. He said stoically, “Understood.”

“Good,” Tony clipped. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my wife and I have lunch plans and I fear I’ve kept her waiting for far too long.”

Steve shook his head as soon as Tony brushed past him, leaving him by the elevator.

<><><>

You had thanked Eva before telling her she should probably go back to work now that the boss was in the room. She picked up on your joke but did it all the same. You paced slowly, watching carefully as Tony spoke with Steve. They were both tense and you sighed, knowing he was likely cursing Steve for assisting you down here. He really did not want you to know anything about most of his work whether it be here or out on the streets or in the political arena.

He came back to you and you gave him a smile, that he did not return.

“What were you doing down here?” he asked tightly, his hand coming to the small of your back and directing you back towards the elevator where he had left Steve who had already gone back up.

“Looking around,” you told him. “I was bored.”

“Do you not remember me telling you to not go poking around?”

“Yes, but I was curious.”

“It would make me happy if you would listen to me,” Tony said, nodding at one of his workers as he passed. “Don’t you wanna make me happy, kitten?”

“85 percent of the time,” you quipped, trying to get him to smile. But he still did not and your own slowly melted away as he responded.

“I think that sounds about right.”

There was something off about him, but you could not figure out what. You elected to stay quiet the rest of the stride to the elevator. He pressed the button to the elevator to come back down, his fingers on his other hand drawing lazy circles on the small of your back. Every so often though, his fingers dug in slightly and you did your best to not flinch away.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21, @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @kvzctam @farihafangirls, @teenageregression @mrsnegan25 @lilacs-lavender @agustdowney @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @emmariexx

#tony stark x reader #dark!tony stark #dark tony stark #mob tony stark #darl marvel fic #dark marvel #my shit

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pomegranates-and-blood · 3 years

Text

The Holly And The Ivy

My Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader, Sigurd/Reader, Sigurd/Margrethe

Summary: “I had this idea where Sigurd (or any of the brothers really) were to marry a Christian, but their marriage is dry and more political than anything, but Ivar is fascinated by her attitude (being opposite of him) and her love for life and simple things. He hears the reader and who she's married to talking about how she loves Christmas and he shuts her down, but Ivar decides to let her pick out a tree from the forest and put it up in the Great Hall and decorate it any way she wants. And the ending would include a kiss under mistletoe? If you can work with it.”

I’m very sorry if I dissapoint you anon, but the story was easier or smoother for me to write as a Modern!AU. I really hope you don’t mind. I can try something in the actual time period still, if you are not happy with au’s.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, passing mentions of abusive relationships (not involving any of the relationsips in the tag btw), angst, my poor attempt at holiday fics or holiday spirit. Also, a part is not smut or explicit but getting closer to it than most of my work, so that too.

A/N: I really hope I don’t dissapoint whoever requested this. Also, I made this way more complicated than it needed to be, bc I always do, and for that I’m also sorry. Hope you like this, thank you for reading!

The title is from a Christmas carol, cause why not lol

Taglist: @1950schick @youbloodymadgenius (I realized you once asked to be tagged on my Vikings works and I forgot, sorry)

“When we are done with this trip we’ll go back home.” Sigurd points out one night as you both say goodnight, in some hotel somewhere in Norway.

“Home?”

“To my mother’s, in a week. Family time and all that.”

Before you are to leave for your own room, you call out, “For Christmas?”

The blond shakes his head, “Yule. You can celebrate your Christmas when we return.”

“That’ll be after the New Year!” You complain softly, offering a smile because you cannot help it.

“I will have to deal with Ivar and my mother, you can deal with this.” Sigurd sentences, the harshness startling you and prompting you to accept the words with a nod.

He mutters a goodnight again, hesitating for a moment on his bedroom door, as if questioning whether he should say sorry or not. You choose to relieve him of that choice, going into your own room and closing the door with a quiet click.

As if it were waiting for the door to close, your phone lights up on your nightstand.

How’s Oslo?

You type a quick response,

You could just ask me if we’ll be attending your mother’s celebrations, you know.

The response takes a while longer, and you cannot help the smile that pulls at your lips.

…Are you?

I expect all those lessons of yours with Floki to come to use. I’m going to need to learn about Yule, apparently.

So I’m supposed to teach you?

Who else?

Your fiancé. Is the reply you get, so fast you think he already knew what your reply was going to be before you even sent it. After a moment, before you can even think on what to answer, another message comes through. Nvm, my brother is useless. I’ll do it.

Your lips pull into a wide and stupid smile, and God, not even the shame at the quick beating of your heart or the warmth that spreads through you could make you be any less thankful for this, if anything. For him.

Thank you. Are you going to be there by Christmas?

This time the answer takes a while longer, and the indication that he is typing appears and disappears a few times.

I don’t know. Before you can ask anything, or send anything, a new message pops up. Princess, this doesn’t get any easier. I don’t know if I can.

Tears rise in your eyes because a part of you knows you’re meant to say goodbye at the end, and every time you are reminded, either by the pain in your own chest or Ivar’s words, that you are on borrowed time; you realize that end is close than you think.

Well, in that case, Merry Christmas, Ivar.

____

You find yourself being driven to that massive and fancy house by your fiancé.

You toy with your engagement ring as the car approaches the house. You know, rationally, that you have nothing to fear. The brothers have never been mean or hurtful -well, most of them haven’t-, and Aslaug has always been courteous and kind and…incredibly performative.

A part of you never ceased to feel like an outsider looking in. Between the pariah that a stupid business practice will be made into Sigurd’s wife, and the silent and soft woman they ignore as if she were another piece of furniture, you’d much rather be the latter.

“Heavy little thing, isn’t it?” Sigurd teases as he turns off the engine, motioning with his head to the rings on your left hand.

You don’t say anything in response, simply getting out of the car in silence. You know he meant well, he always does.

But a part of you that is hopeful and childish and still looks at the snow that starts to fall lightly over the ground as some miracle that means Christmas is upon us…that part of you cannot help but feel bitter about it all. Regretful, or, maybe, resentful.

You never imagined life would be this, engagement -marriage- would be this. You thought of happiness and warmth and fidelity.

Foolish hopes, really. The hopes of a child that watched her parents dance to the light of the Christmas lights, to the music of the soft music her father hummed. Nothing but foolish hopes.

So, when Sigurd steps out and hesitates in offering you his hand, you offer a smile and take his hand in yours, choosing to appreciate that at least the man you will be forced to marry is one you might call a friend, a partner, one day.

It is easy to forget, it is easy to let your heart be light and just enjoy the adorable giggles of Björn and Torvi’s children, the sympathetic smile of Margrethe, the warm and brotherly embrace of Hvitserk.

You are sipping on wine and watching Ubbe throw Asa over his head as she yells for him to throw her higher when a presence stands by your side and a wine glass clinks with your own in silent toast.

“I know you know about Sigurd and me,” Margrethe whispers, “And I want you to know I am sorry. But…I won’t leave him, not until he asks me to.”

If a year ago someone told you that you’d spent Christmas Eve being told by your fiancé’s mistress that she refuses to stop seeing him, you would have assumed the world turned on its head.

It did, but…you still find it in you to love this world that hurts you, this life that tests you.

You offer a smile, “I know you love him. It started as…”

“Gold-digging?” The blonde supplies, a sheepish grimace on her face.

“I wouldn’t be as unkind as to-…”

“You should. That’s what it was,” Her smile loses the edge, and she falters, “At first.”

You accept her words with a nod, and another sip of your wine.

“Then as long as you are discreet, I don’t mind. Keep him happy, Margrethe, he deserves it.”

You start to walk away when she stops you with a call of your name.

“And you don’t? Deserve to be happy, I mean.”

You hesitate, faltering for a few seconds too long. Her blue eyes are big and uncharacteristically honest as they look at you.

“I…”

You take your gaze off hers, because it feels like she will know something she shouldn’t, something you don’t want her to; but your eyes betray you, it seems.

“Oh, him. Well-kept secret, that one,” She states, and when you open your mouth to argue, Margrethe shakes her head, “It’s okay, I don’t…I don’t blame you. Even if I don’t understand at all how that came to be.”

“It’s…”

“Complicated?” The blonde supplies, and you allow yourself a smile, you loosen your shoulders and close your eyes with a deep breath.

“Ivar, he…understands me.”

“But you two are nothing alike,” She states, and at your shrug, concedes, “Maybe that’s why.”

“Maybe,” You offer, and after a breath, because bitter regret at being the thing that keeps her from the man she loves chokes you for a moment, “Margrethe, I…”

“Don’t you even think of apologizing to me,” She laughs, “Gods, woman, you truly are a soft thing, aren’t you?”

“I have the privilege of being it.” You offer with a kind smile, because you’ve seen the scars, because you remember her when she was more fragile.

Margrethe shakes her head, “The burden.” She corrects, and with a soft squeeze of her free hand on your arm, she walks away.

____

It’s on the day before Christmas that the last of the Lothbrok arrives. You walk down the stairs to a very early breakfast, and jump when the front door opens to reveal Ubbe and Ivar.

He came.

“You are up early.” Ubbe comments as he passes you by, dropping a kiss on your cheek.

You greet Ubbe absently, your eyes on his brother. Numbly, you hear him say something about telling Aslaug that Ivar has come home, and quick steps carrying him up the stairs.

Your lips curve into a smile, or at least they try to, “Hi.”

“Hello, Princess,” Ivar greets, what months ago would have been a smirk curving his lips. Now, now it’s more tired and worn than anything. “Just in time for your…Christmas, right?”

You nod, feeling the stupid urge to cry, “Yeah. Means a lot, you know.”

“Well, I could feel you pouting over the phone, love,” His eyes check the stairs before he moves aided by his crutch towards you with a wince of pain -the cold, you remind yourself, the cold making his legs ache-, and once he is before you, a hand that shouldn’t feel as tender as it does cups your cheek and brings your mouth to his. “I couldn’t leave you alone here. You always find ways to embarrass yourself.”

You chuckle, burrowing your head on his chest as you embrace him.

“I may have fucked up a few times,” You concede, eyes closed as you take in his scent, his warmth, “But I’m cute, I get away with a lot of things.”

____

As the timer on your phone dings, you get up from the couch, leaving a warm but strong drink behind, and make your way to the kitchen, ready to take out the sponge cake -no, a voice too alike Ivar corrects you, Bûche de Noël-.

Uneven steps behind you let you know of who walked in behind you, and you turn around with a slight frown on your brows, meaning to ask something before he interrupts you.

“He’s groping and kissing her in front of you, and you say nothing?” Ivar demands, anger shining clearly in his blue eyes.

“Sigurd and Margrethe?” You ask, and shake your head, “Why would I say anything?”

“You know about them.”

“Of course I do. He doesn’t hide it from me, and he shouldn’t hide it from his family. He loves her, and she loves him.”

“You don’t care that he’s humiliating you?” He presses, and you sigh.

“Everyone here knows how things truly are between Sigurd and me.”

Ivar’s mouth curls into a snarl, and cruelty spews from his lips, “Well, if you had let Ragnar know you had no problem letting your husband fuck whoever he wants, you might have been able to marry Björn, like your father wanted.”

You close your eyes, “Don’t be like this.”

“Like what, hm? Like someone that’s watching the woman he-…What am I supposed to be then, hm? What would make you happy?” He accuses, not losing the cruel edge in his voice even if you both know what he stopped himself from admitting. When you don’t answer, Ivar takes a deep and angry breath through his nose, “I’ve always been jealous of my brothers, you know this. Growing up their poor crippled brother is nothing to knowing Sigurd gets you and doesn’t even know what he-…what I’d do to be him.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Make him be the man you deserve!”

“He’s not the man I want,” You point out before you can keep the words trapped behind your lips. Ivar is inexplicably stunned by your words, it seems, and you lower your gaze. Resting your hands on the counter you drop your shoulders and shake your head, letting go of the previous argument and returning to…peace, or as close to it as one can get with Ivar. “Your brother deserves to be as happy as he can, with the woman he loves. It will not hurt me to see him with her. As long as-…”

“‘As long as it is discreet’, yes, I know. My mother and Ragnar have the same agreement.”

“It works for them, does it not?”

Ivar meets your gaze and doesn’t answer for a few moments, long enough that dread sets in your chest and questions arise in your mind.

Eventually, on the side of his jaw the clear tell of gritted teeth, he replies,

“Not as well as you think.”

“Well, Sigurd and I are friends, we…things will work out. They have to.”

“They have to, of course,” He mocks, moving his head as he rolls his eyes, “Anything to keep Ragnar and your father happy, hm?”

“Ivar…”

His eyes search yours, searching for the answer to a question he has not yet asked,

“I-If I asked you not to do this, if I…if I asked you for more time…” He leaves the words hanging between you, and you blink past helpless tears. He knows the answer, you know the answer.

Thankfully, you don’t have to remind him -and yourself- of the world you live in, of the lives you were meant to live, because the door to the kitchen opens and Aslaug walks through.

You keep your eyes firmly set on the tray before you, even though you can feel Ivar’s eyes on you, demanding an answer. When he realizes he will not get one, he grunts, a clenched fist hitting the counter once before he walks away.

“I’m sorry.” You offer the matriarch as she keeps her all-seeing eyes on you, but Aslaug offers a smile. A fake one, but a smile nonetheless.

“The cold gets to Ivar, it makes him irritable. It is not your fault.” She soothes, but the smile you offer her in thanks still trembles. You both know these are lies you are sharing with one another, and though it makes you falter and stumble, Aslaug moves gracefully from one lie to the next.

“I’ll-…” You point behind you, to the living room, but the woman shakes her head.

“Surely you have time to help me with this?” She asks. It feels like walking into a wolf’s den when you nod your head and approach her.

“Of course.”

She watches raptly as you assist her in preparing the Yule Log, and you focus on doing your best to keep your hands from trembling.

“For someone that doesn’t follow the Gods, you know a lot about tradition, girl.”

“I…It was the least I could do, learning about what is important to your family, to Sigurd.” You offer, and whatever she -who always has the look of someone that sees beyond what normal eyes can- can sense in your words makes Aslaug stop.

She turns to you, and surprises you with a hand on your cheek. The woman towards over you, but the gentleness in her touch, the warmth in her eyes, they help you to not feel threatened.

“Still loving the world that hurts you, sweet thing?”

“It’s all I know how to do.”

Aslaug’s smile is almost sad when she looks into your eyes, “To love, yes, I know. Wish I saw that sooner,” You don’t know what to answer to that, so you offer her only a shaky smile and a shrug. Aslaug chuckles gently, “And you love my son, don’t you?”

The terrifying thought that she knows what she’s doing when not saying any names, the realization nothing gets past her and neither did whatever is between you and Ivar, it all settles in your stomach with a dead weight.

Still, whether she asks about Sigurd or Ivar, the answer is the same.

“Yes.”

One as a friend, a partner, a man you can learn to respect and build a life alongside of. The other, as everything you ever wanted, as someone that will always make you wonder about the ‘what if’s.

She shakes off whatever takes a hold of her, and before you can ask what she means, why it pains her, she steps back from you and turns her back to you.

“You know, Ragnar isn’t the only one in this family with an eye for business. I was once in the same position you are now, the heiress to an empire,” Aslaug’s smile seems to thaw as she hands you a refilled glass of wine to match hers. Resting her backside on the counter behind her, she continues, “My parents were able to teach me a few valuable lessons before their death.

She grabs your left hand, stopping you. Her eyes look deeply into yours, but her thumb rolls your engagement ring on your finger.

“Like how to understand when I can’t make any more moves. And when I can change the wording in a deal to make it favor me.

Your lips part, you think to say something, but Aslaug stops you with a smile.

“Let’s hope you’ve learned the same lessons, my dear.”

____

Ubbe is dancing with Asa standing on his feet, and you watch with a smile on your face as the family enjoys time together, and celebrates the holidays in their own way.

A part of you misses the Christmas lights, the decorations you’d help your parents put up when you were a kid. A part of you misses how simple life was back then, how in this time of year you could forget there was a world past the snow drifting down and the warmth of a hearth and a home.

Ivar comes right up to you, but doesn’t sit next to you, choosing to remain standing.

“Grab your coat,” He orders, and at your confused frown, he rolls his eyes and amends, “Please.”

The most insincere please in the history of pleases, but you know you get more than most, so you don’t comment on it.

Still, you have to ask, “Why?”

“I-…a surprise,” He says, and insists you move with a gesture of his head, “Come on.”

You follow him to the small house the Lothbroks have by the pool, a cozy little home of big windows. When Ivar motions for you to go in ahead of him, a part of you is suspicious, but you still skip your way inside and try not to ask questions as to how it is so warm here when it should be vacant.

Ivar turns the lights on, and you find in the middle of the living room a Christmas tree.

The tree is bare, but still lively and familiar.

You turn to Ivar with tears in your eyes, because you cannot help it.

“You did this for me?”

“You love your Christmas,” He mumbles, embarrassed at the reaction his -to some, uncharacteristic- thoughtfulness got out of you. “I figured you deserved to have some of it with you here.”

“Did you buy Christmas lights?” You ask softly, almost moving up and down in the balls of your feet in excitement, eyeing the bags on a chair nearby.

Ivar chuckles, endeared, and nods, “Go ahead, Princess.”

You skip your way to the bags, quickly looking over the goods and already planning on how to decorate it, how to make it look pretty, how to make it yours.

You don’t truly know how long you spend on it, gleefully putting up Christmas lights, and little ornaments. During the whole time you spent excitedly decorating the tree, you can feel Ivar’s eyes on you, and when you look back at him you find him staring with a strange softness in his gaze.

You choose not to think too much on it, and instead ask his opinion on the decorations, that he gives gruffly and with a very poor attempt at making you believe that -either because Christmas grew on him, which you find very unlikely, or because of your own happiness- he isn’t happy to be here.

____

You smile at the warm and twinkling lights, and burrow closer to Ivar’s warmth, refusing to take your eyes off the dancing lights and refusing to put your feet back on the ground.

Refusing to step out of the fantasy that this could be your life.

Ivar shifts his position, and you lift your head from the juncture between his neck and shoulder and meet his eyes in question.

His eyes give away so much, always have, at least to you. And now they reflect the warm sparkle of the Christmas lights, and they reflect hesitation, fear, uncertainty, love.

Before you can ask what is wrong, Ivar leans in, his hand previously around you tangling in your hair as his lips claim yours.

His kiss is always demanding, but this time it holds desperation in the way Ivar begs for your lips to part with his own, it holds an urgency in the way his tongue dances with yours, it holds a ragged edge in the shaky breath that he lets out through his nose, it holds a goodbye in the way he ends the kiss as if forcing himself to pull away from you.

You try getting your breath under control and your voice to be yours again, but he’s so close, and warm, and yours; and all you want to do is kiss him again.

Kiss him again, and make the furrow in his brow, the pain in his eyes, go away. Kiss him again, and pretend you are not living on borrowed time.

So you do.

You kiss him, and take control of the kiss, and make him groan lightly against your mouth when you tug on his hair, and whimper his name against his own when you straddle him and feel him getting hard underneath you.

When your need for breath makes you part from his kiss, Ivar wastes no time trailing fervent kisses down your neck, panting breaths against the hot skin that he kisses and licks and bites.

You moan his name, forgetting everything but the touch of his lips on your skin, forgetting everything but the scent and taste and feel of him.

Either at the sound of your voice or the grind of your hips against his hardening cock, Ivar’s breath stutters and he breathes your name back at you, voice low.

His brow rests against your collarbone as he takes deep breaths, and your fingers toy at the hair that flows down to his shoulders.

“You know…” He murmurs, pressing a kiss that makes you shiver right on the dip between your collarbones, “There’s nothing I want more right now than marking this pretty neck of yours. Leaving you with…” His teeth scrape against your skin, a tease both for you and himself. Ivar does it a few more times, and moves up your neck again. Your breath shudders past your lips, and you tug on his hair to remind him of what he was saying. You always did love hearing him speak. For all the months you spend apart, his voice telling you what he’d do to you, what he’d have you do to him, is all that keeps you warm. Ivar chuckles, but continues, “Leaving you with my mark all over you, where everyone can see, so…so that they don’t doubt you’re mine.

His hands tighten on your waist, before they travel down, caressing your thighs as he sighs.

“But you’re not, are you? And I can’t…I can’t do any of that. I can’t-…”

You interrupt him before his thoughts can get ahead of him, before he can twist himself into knots about the situation you are both in.

“I am yours. Only yours.” You remind him softly, your lips by his ear. You lean back so you can meet his eyes, and seal your promise with a soft kiss over his lips.

Ivar’s eyes search yours when you pull back, with the same look as before. Uncertain, lost, tender and yet almost sad.

“Marry me.” He whispers, keeping his eyes on yours.

“What?” You squeak, eyes wide. He couldn’t have…he knows that…none of this makes any sense.

“Marry me instead of Sigurd,” He insists, and as if remembering the part he forgot, he curses and hurries to fetch something from his pocket. He offers you a simple but beautiful ring, and swallows, “I-I can make you happier than he ever could, I…I love you.

I know you can, you already do.

I love you too.

But you can’t say any of that, because your breaths are shallow and your head is filled with thoughts and…and you need space.

You scramble to stand, to put distance between the two of you. After a few controlled breaths, you return your eyes to Ivar, whose hand has now fallen back to his lap even if he still holds on to the delicate ring.

He grits his teeth, the obvious tell at the side of his jaw, and he seems to want to divert his eyes from you, but he only blinks and keeps certain eyes on you.

“Your father wants you to marry one of Ragnar’s sons, he doesn’t care who. I…have talked with my father, he agrees that if you want to, we can…” He licks his lips in a nervous gesture, “Mother says any backlash from breaking the engagement can be handled.”

“You’ve thought this through.”

“Of course I have, y-you’d be Sigurd’s wife if I didn’t think of something,” A twitch of anger, of uncertainty, of fear, on his face, and then he amends, “You still can be. But I want you to be able to choose.”

Choose me, is what he doesn’t say.

Your heart is lodged in your throat, and you try a few times before you can finally speak,

“Ivar, we haven’t…it’s been only a few months.”

“And it will not work out, that’s what you’re saying?” He huffs, defensive, “It won’t work out if you marry my brother either.”

“I-…this-…”

“Stop thinking of excuses,” He snaps, gritted teeth and hurt written in his eyes, “I’ll handle everything, no matter your answer. Just…just give me an answer, Princess.”

____

It is open ended cause there’s two ends to this, I wanted to leave the choice to you guys! So, follow the link for the epilogue of your choice:

Will you accept the proposal and be bound to Ivar, for better or worse?

Or will you stay with Sigurd, and be content with companionship and friendship?

Hope you liked this, even if it wasn’t very holiday-ey. I wish you all very happy holidays and a great (or decent, after 2020 I’m happy with decent) 2021!!

(Ik it’s like the 13th and I’m gonna be very much around here posting and bothering the whole lot of ya till the holidays and beyond, but holiday fic and all that, ‘twas the perfect time to send good wishes and all. Love ya!)

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar

102 notes · View notes

bound-up-feelings · 3 years

Text

Sacha Baron Cohen x fem reader

Locked Doors

Requested: Kinda? I had a lot of help from this amazing person: @ironmansuucks (Thank you so much btw!)

Warnings: Smut

Prompts:

“I may or may not have left some….marks.”

“we’re just…friends.” “friends don’t do this type of shit!”

(Hey! So this was a lot of fun and I hope you all like this (1709 word) fic! I tried really hard t get this out today so please, give me feedback. It is much appreciated! Enjoy!)

You hadn't even been at this after party for long, you only went to give support to a "friend". At least that what everyone else thought you guys were. You always were together. But no one ever saw you guys in that way. So, when you came up behind him and hugged him, everyone just smiled and brushed it off. You and Sacha always knew something extra was happening between you both but neither of you wanted to ruin what you had. You had been friends for a very long time and just the idea of ruining the friendship because a romantic relationship wouldn't work made you queasy. "Hey I'm gonna go to the bar and get me a drink, you want anything?" He shakes his head as he smiles your way. You nod and walk over to the bar. You didn't want to sit but the heels you were wearing made your feet hurt so you sat down. Even though you had just sat down that seemed to get someone's attention. Not the attention that you wanted. A man that you had never met before walks over and sits one chair away from you. "Hi." he says he looks you up and down. Not saying this man wasn't attractive, that was not the problem, the problem that you were faced with was the fact that in the corner of your eye you could see Sacha eyeing you. Even though you knew Sacha had feelings for you it never hurt to tease the man right? Right? "I'm sorry if I'm bothering you." You look at him as you smile "You're not bothering me. I'm just enjoying my drink. What's your name?" After he tells you his name he gets up and moves closer to you.

By this time he had already started flirting with you eyeing your legs as they sat between his, that included him brushing his fingers up and down them. He was oblivious to your actual plan, you meant no harm but you had a goal to achieve. Every now and then you'd look over and see Sacha clenching and unclenching his jaw and the hand that didn't have a vice grip on a glass cup. It made you smile. "Excuse me for a moment will you?" You say as you get up to go to the bathroom. You look over and see Sacha walking after you. Smirking to yourself you walk into the bathroom and and luckily you don't see anyone. You hear the door open again, the sound of a lock being turned and heavy footsteps making its way behind you. "This is the women's bathroom you know that right? It kind of inappropriate to be in here." You say looking him through the mirror. He snickers "Inappropriate? Me? Who was the one letting that man feel up your legs? Definitely not me. I'd call that pretty inappropriate." Raising an eyebrow "Are you, dare I say, jealous?" he wraps a hand around your shoulder as he spins you around to come face to face with you. "I sure as hell am! You know how I feel and you continue to tease me. I want you, every second of everyday, yet you still go on teasing." he says as he grabs your hips and pulls you flush against him. He smirks at your shocked gasp that escapes you "I'm tired of letting you get away with it, I want what is mine and I am willing to risk getting caught." He says as he lifts you to sit on the counter. He leans in and starts to kiss you with fervor. You kiss back and bite his lip as he begins to trail his hands up your legs. He nips at your bottom lip and moves his kissing to your jaw, then your neck. Sucking at the spot there till he hears you moan out slightly. Pulling your dress up as he bring his hands higher. He finally reaches your panties and sighs out against your neck as he feels how wet you are. Rubbing you through your panties, you start to moan as he continues his attack on your aching core. He comes back up to your lips and kisses you again as you start to moan out loud. "Shh, Don't want anyone to know we're more than friends do you?" He says jokingly, going back to sucking on your neck, seeing the obvious mark starting to form there. You sigh out, “We’re just…friends.” “Friends don’t do this type of shit!” He says as he punctuates what he's sayin with rubbing your clit even harder with his thumb, causing you to squirm underneath him. "Oh please just fuck me already, no more teasing!" He pulls away to both inspect his handiwork and also eye you with lust filled eyes "No teasing? I thought you liked teasing, you seemed to really love it when you did it to me." You grab the back of his neck, bringing his lips to yours in a heated kiss to shut him up. He brings his hand down to his pants and unbuttons them before slipping them down to his lower thighs before he frees himself from his briefs. He pumps himself a few time before pushing aside your panties. "Are you sure you want to do this? I don't want to do anything you don't want." "Just fuck me already Cohen!" He clenches his jaw and pushes himself past your lips and goes all the way to the hilt and stops. Letting you get use to his size, you gasp at the feeling of being stretched by him. He lets out a shaky breath before he starts kissing up your neck. Just the feeling of having him in you makes you moan out, he places a hand over your mouth "You have to be quite, I know its hard but I rather not get kicked out for public indecency." The idea of getting caught in this moment makes you clench around him and in doing so makes him groan at the feeling. He slowly slips out of you and thrusts back in with a bit of force. This makes your back hit the mirror slightly. You place your hands on his chest as he continues to thrust himself into you. Each time feels as though he's getting faster and harder with every thrust. He groans out and throws his head back "Fuck, your so tight." You could feel the knot in your stomach begin to build. "I gonna cum soon!" "Oh me too!" He places a hand on your lower back and the other behind your head. He looks into your eyes as he thrust as deep as he can. Making you gasp out loud when he hit that sweet spot inside of you. You whine as you feel your orgasm coming faster and faster. He smashes his lips onto yours as he pulls out just in time for both of your orgasms to crash over you. He cums over your exposed thigh and some lands on the floor. He gasps into your mouth as he still rides out the after shock. When you both calm down he grabs a paper towel and starts to clean up the mess you both made. After doing so he puts himself back into his pants and and helps you straighten yourself back out after he had helped you off the counter. He leans down and kisses you on the lips again before sighing out "Does this ruin things for us? Because if it does I don't think I can handle it." He says as he looks hopefully into your eyes. "Of course not, I think it just made it a whole lot better!" He nods and hugs you against his chest. You smile but immediately realization hits you. "Sacha..." "Yeah?" "How are we going to get out of here without getting caught?" His eyes widen and he goes to say something but closes his mouth instead. You get an idea and walk over to the door and unlock it, silently thanking god that he did that when he walked in. You run back over and wet another paper towel and begin to fake clean a stain on his jacket. And thank god for timing because a woman walks in and stops in her tracks. "Oh! Hello? What is going on here?" You look behind you and see the woman "Oh I'm so sorry! I was just trying to get this stain out. I almost got it give me a moment." You say as you continue with the "cleaning". She leans to the left to get a better look at what your doing. When your satisfied, you step back and sigh out "I guess that will have to do till we can get you to the dry cleaners. I can call and see if there open, come on lets go." You say as you grab his hand, exiting. You mumble a slight sorry to the lady and she gives you a nod, signaling that she had no idea of what your true activities were.

When you did leave, which was immediately You got in the same vehicle almost like always. When you got home, he came in and decided to spend the night there. After getting dressing in your night clothes he stared at you, confused you look behind you before asking him what was up. He smiles and gesturing to a few areas on your neck “I may or may not have left some….marks.” You go back into the bathroom and sure enough there is a nice sized hicky and some bite parks that littered the side of your neck. "God dammit! I have to wear a scarf now. You're very lucky that it’s cold outside cause this isn't going away for a while, sir!" You say as you glare at him from across the room. He laughs and pulls the covers away and does the 'Come hither' motion and pats the spot next to him on the bed. You shake your head as you get under the covers. "You know you love me!" You nod and cuddle into his side, you sigh and hug him closer as he does the same. You both fall asleep in each others arms. Happy that your shenanigans worked out the way they did.

(Heyo, so I hope you liked this and if you did requests are always open, so request anytime you’d like! I hope you have an amazing day and stay strong! Also just a heads up, if you would like to be tagged in anymore of my Sacha fics or anything that has him included, please message me and tell me, I would be more than happy too!)

#sacha baron cohen x reader #sacha baron cohen imagines #sacha baron cohen #smut

46 notes · View notes

7wanderingpaws · 4 years

Text

Simply, yours (10)

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Genre: family AU, hapkido teacher AU, PhD AU

Word count: 6.5K

Warnings: cursing

A/N: Hello, hi! Welcome back! This chapter has a LOT of stuff happening... But at the end of the day, we all want to have a pleasant read, right? I hope you will like this one, I enjoyed writing it a whole lot... 😊💖 Pls let me know what you thought, it helps me so much! Have a good day/night! ^^ Btw what did you think of BBHs cover of BoA? I LOVE IT! Original was already so good and he just made it more speacial by adding his sweet flavor... 💕

tags: @milky-baek @itsbaekhyunsbutt @luvhtears @shesdreaminginoverdose @cynthbee @jummyjammy @junmyeonnoona (if you want to be tagged/untagged please let me know!)

MASTERLIST

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

That was what you've been muttering to yourself for the past two hours on your way back home and basically ever since you turned your back on him. Literally. Because you are that bad at controlling your emotions for some reason.

So as a way to punish yourself, you ended up popping into the nearest convenience store to your apartment and getting chocolates and sweet bakery because you… needed it. You had been dying to put something sweet into your mouth, so it could be hardly taken as a punishment, but you did find it as unnecessary expense, plus you were already halfway through looking like an elephant. But wow, what a sucky day, yucks.

It was one thing to be a little jealous about that girl, and a completely different thing to become cold towards Baekhyun and not even tell him what was bothering you. He didn't deserve that and you felt extremely guilty, to the point that you just entered your quiet, loving home and felt like crying like a baby.

Changing into comfy clothes, you didn't even bother with folding them, instead throwing them into the laundry basket, too preoccupied with your own guilt. Plus, your sweat pants felt tighter and uncomfortable around your thighs. How annoying. You needed to spend even more money now for the stupid XXXXXL size that you were slowly becoming.

You could bet that Jiyoung girl had the smallest size waist-

“Ah, stop it!” you shouted into nothing, tired of yourself and the whirlwind of emotions that you became. How was it possible to switch between emotions this fast? Your period wasn't the kindest but thankfully it was rarely painful and you only had terrible cravings instead of mood swings but this pregnancy was too much.

And in that moment, everything was getting on your nerves. You losing your job. You wanting to surprise your boyfriend. Him smiling like that at another woman. Him smiling. Seriously, why was he even smiling?! You weren't even there, so how dared he smile? Oh, and yeah that woman next to your man! You declining his request to stay until he was done. You should have stayed. You should have stayed and support him, enjoy the way he was doing his passion and maybe you would have understood what that Jiyoung girl was doing. Was she even a student?

You sighed. You wouldn't know. If she would have been a student, you didn't think she would dare to come collect him from his girlfriend like that.

You threw yourself into the softness of your pillows, chocolate bar in your mouth as you took a small bite and let your angry tears fall. This was so not you. This wasn't the strong, independent woman and if you would keep up this game, Baekhyun would notice too. He would see the faults in you.

“Stop thinking, you brat,” you warned yourself. “Stop it! Don't think! Just don't!”

And the worst?! You couldn't even touch your bump in that moment, you were that disgusted. It was all fault of the babies; they were making you like this, creating problems where there weren't any!

Before you could wallow even more, your phone rang. Scrambling quickly to get it in hopes to see Baekhyun's photo as your caller ID, you were surprised to see your mother's name dancing on the screen. That could only mean some bad news as you rarely talked. The last time you talked was nearly a month ago when she was checking up on you and your pregnancy and making sure Baekhyun was there for you.

Ignoring the way your hands were shaking, you answered the phone, feeling a bit of adrenaline rush in your blood causing slight dizziness. It'd been a while you felt lightheaded like this.

“Mum?”

“Hi, daughter,” she gasped, her voice gentle as always. “How are you? It's been a month almost, thought I'd check up on you.”

And there it all went. You started to wail at that question right away, unable to bear your mother's gentle voice. You didn't even realize how much you missed having a mother figure in this period of life, when she could give you advice, guidance and especially deep understanding.

“Are you crying?” she quipped, surprised at the sniffles that would soon follow with stifled sobs. “Oh, my, why are you crying? Is it the hormones?”

Well, was it the hormones? you asked yourself, but you were so incredibly clueless and so incredibly frustrated because of everything that you couldn't get a proper reply. “Ye-yes,” you hiccuped as hot tears streamed down your face. It was that type of crying where you just couldn't stop, the hysterical sobs needing to be let out, tears seeming to have an infinite storage somewhere inside of you.

Your mother sighed, but you imagined her affectionate gaze. “I understand. Although I don't know to what extent is having three babies burdening, any pregnancy is extremely difficult on your body, honey. Just let it all out and don't dwell too much on what is the reason. You don't need it now, so just let it out.”

At that you had to hide your face in the pillow and let out a little wail, because her words were warming you up so much, yet she was far away from you. Oh, dear, she had no clue what a rollercoaster of a ride you had put yourself and your boyfriend through, so you basically had every reason to have these feelings. She didn't even know you had been sacked. That was the reason you were crying, right?

“Is Baekhyun there?” your mother kept on going when she knew you wouldn't give her a coherent answer.

You hiccuped again, trying to make your mouth move. “N-no. Wo-worki-ing.”

“It's almost late evening, though,” she muttered to herself.

It was just 6pm, but the elders always had the specialty of saying “it's late in the night” when it was barely 8pm. You tried to smile at her antics, but it was painful. Because your boyfriend wasn't home. He was at that stupid training of his with stupid women that had to take the stupid hapkido class.

“What did you have for lunch-”

“I got sacked today,” you blurted suddenly and sniffed back big time, not even listening to her words.

“What do you mean you got sacked today?”

“Just exactly what I said. I am jobless.”

“How did you get sacked? You were promoted not long ago.”

You let out a loud breath, your lungs aching from all the crying. It just made more tears well up in your eyes again. “I had an idiot of a boss.” You should have definitely said it was all your fault, but currently you were feeling like the biggest loser in the world. “So it was better like this anyway. I can't even do much, soon I will be huge and… useless.”

Your mother tsked disapprovingly as you heard some shuffling in the background. “What is this silly talk, daughter. What did Baekhyun say?”

You gritted your teeth. “Why do you always ask about him?! He was happy I got sacked, okay?”

“Alright, alright, no need to shout at your mother.”

“But I don't want to talk about Baekhyun right now, so stop asking me!”

“Oh, I understand now,” she replied back nonchalantly, and some creaking noise provided just the perfect background. “As long as you think you can manage…”

“Yes, I can manage.”

“You and Baekh-”

“Don't.”

She sighed and you heard fire. She was probably warming up dinner in the kitchen. “Did he do something?”

You opened your mouth to retort but were stopped, because YES was your personal answer but NO was the fact. You wiped your tears quickly. “No. I mean... “ you trailed off and rolled yourself on your back, staring at the ceiling. “No.”

“Well then why are you so sensitive? I am trying to see what is wrong and you clearly have an issue with him. You can tell me honestly. Or don't.”

Just then you heard the code being typed in the entrance door, sign of Baekhyun arriving. You groaned loudly and stood up quickly to close the bedroom door before he could get in and have an easy access to bedroom but it was a wrong idea. Seeing black spots everywhere, you felt like your entire body just gained another 40 kilograms as an invisible weight pulled down on your shoulders making you stumble back into the mattress, the world spinning with along with you rather fast.

“I'll call you back,” you murmured softly into the phone and threw it away into the blanket somewhere, trying to make your head calm down.

Baekhyun called out your name, announcing his arrival but you felt like throwing up. You groaned as quietly as possible, scrunching up your face in hopes of stopping this terrible attack. Cold sweat made its way down your neck and you shivered as you felt a huge bulge in your stomach. But you were so extremely disoriented you could barely open your eyes let alone make it to the bathroom in time.

“Baekhyun,” you called out, “please bring me the bucket from the-” gulp, gulp, gulp.

Baekhyun walked into the bedroom but when he saw you his eyes went wide. “What is wrong? Hey, hey, what's- shit,” he cursed when he heard the familiar noise, and ran to the bathroom to get the little pink bucket as you gagged, trying to get on your fours, looking extremely shaken up. Tears were streaming down your face, your knees and arms trembling violently before you saw two feet clad in white socks and then bucket pushed into your face as Baekhyun reached for you with his other hand to keep your balance up. “Shh, c'mon, let it out. Don't keep it back,” he murmured urgently and sweeped the hair that was plastered to your forehead and cheeks away, noticing the snot and flushed cheeks. Just then, finally, you let it all out. Your throat was on fire but your head kept pulling you in one direction into which you would have easily fell if it weren't for the safety of Baekhyun's arms. “Shh, you're doing well.”

Although not seeing his face, you knew he was tense and probably wondering what made you this terribly sick when food and spit kept constantly coming out until it became just violent gagging, nothing able to come out anymore, only caused by your head spinning so much it triggered your stomach. Wasn't it just today that you were thankful for not having to go through this again?

You calmed down after another couple of minutes, completely spent. “Baekhyun,” you murmured, afraid to open your eyes. He hummed as he took the bucket to the side, and looked at you closely as he brought his other hand to your pale face, wiping the tears away. “I'm very dizzy.”

“Look at me, baby,” he murmured, frowning a little and wanting to check the focus in your eyes.

You shook your head ever so gently before your lower lip trembled. “I can't… please,” you said just as you were about to crash on him again, the invisible pull still there.

“Okay. Lay down for me, can you do that?” he asked gently. “I will help you move now, don't get startled.” And he did so, pushing on your shoulders a bit, helping you lie down. He took all the pillows on the bed and put your head under them, by then knowing very well what to do when you got into this kind of situation. “Keep your head up for me, and your knees too,” he whispered and patted your straightened-out legs. You did as he said and heard him move around the room before he came back with the little machine, pushing your arm through the hole to measure your blood pressure.

“Don't cry, sweetheart,” you heard him whisper as he tried to catch every single teardrop while the machine was working. He looked around for a glass of water which, of course, you didn't have.

“I feel like hell,” you said, your voice raw.

Baekhyun was thankful your eyes were closed, for he didn't want you to witness how worried and scared he was. Yes, you did get dizzy and many times sick, but to this extent? Never. He was already thinking three steps ahead, fishing his phone out of his pocket.

Beeping sound brought you back to the reality and Baekhyun checked, murmuring the results out loud, his frown now deep. “We are going to the hospital,” he decided.

“No!” you shouted, opening your eyes to look at him but you almost saw three Baekhyuns. Usually, you wouldn't mind but it made you want to throw up again. You were fast to close them, scrunching your face. “Please,” you sobbed, scared. “Make it stop! But don't call anyone!”

Baekhyun was already calling ambulance, leaving the room in case you would have a tantrum. He knew your blood pressure was skyrocketing and it made him worried sick; he didn't know what to do. Plus, he was told by your doctor that if your blood pressure reaches a certain level, you were eligible to call for ambulance.

As much as he hated you crying and going through this, he was there with you, every single step at a time.

“She will be alright,” said the doctor that was in the emergency room, checking your vitals on his clipboard. “She needs to rest for now, but,” he shook his head gently and looked up at Baekhyun whose eyes were bulging in fear of what was to come. “Her blood pressure was too high. It isn't good for the patient, neither it is good for the pregnancy.”

“What does that mean?”

He shrugged. “Well, it is very likely that she will have to endure this until she gives birth. Triplet pregnancy is a bit different than the usual ones. Since premature birth is highly possible to happen, which also may affect the health of the children, her not monitoring stress levels or taking good care of her body may also influence the health of the kids.” He sighed. “She is bearing a lot right now, so there are high risks of her fainting if this continues. As you told me, she had been struggling with high blood pressure this whole time, correct?”

Baekhyun nodded quickly.

“Well, she is in the fifteenth week which means almost half-way through till due date… It should have subsided by now but we can't do anything to change it; only give medication, unfortunately. Multiples' pregnancy is full of surprises.”

Baekhyun felt so helpless in that moment. Why did he get the feeling the doctor was clueless in a way too?

“Will she survive?” he asked seriously.

The doctor smiled gently. “She is completely healthy, so there is no risk of her losing her life, but this was definitely a dangerous situation. She shouldn't be left alone for too long as this occurs unexpectedly. It is rare anyway to have such strong reaction to high blood pressure, but this is what it takes to live for three more lives, I suppose.”

Oh, how Baekhyun wished he could take at least half of the burden you were bearing.

The doctor patted him twice on the shoulder before leaving. He looked at you, your sleeping figure so peaceful compared to couple of hours ago when you looked white as death and just about to pass out.

Sighing, he reached for your hand, gently squeezing it before murmuring a soft I love you. You were going through all of this because of him. He made you pregnant and now here you were, fighting for four lives: the unborn babies and your own.

His phone vibrating was what interrupted his train of thoughts. Quickly searching for it in his winter jacket, he saw your mother's name flashing on the screen, bad feeling already eating him away. Should he tell her where you were now? He would only make her worried.

“Hello, mother,” he answered, trying to make his voice as normal and even as possible while stroking your knuckles with is thumb.

“Oh, thank God you picked up, Baekhyun! I've been contacting my daughter for the past hour and she wouldn't answer. Are you with her now?”

Gulping, he said: “Yes. She is, uh, sleeping now.”

“Silly girl. I called her earlier today to check up on her and caught her in a bad state of mind,” she explained, her voice sounding exasperated. “She kept crying but wouldn't tell me why. This is none of my business, my dear, but did you two have a fight?”

Surprised was an understatement to Baekhyun. First of all, you didn't necessarily fight, it was your weird mood that created negative tension between you two but it was certainly not a fight; second of all he had no clue you were having such a mood prior to his arrival although he did see your swollen face and eyes. “No, we didn't have a fight. She has been acting strangely today, that is true. She lost her job and maybe the hormones and all…” he trailed off, trying to justify your actions though he himself wasn't sure.

“Yes, she told me she lost her job, but to me it didn't seem like that was her main issue. Let me be honest with you, Baekhyun,” she said and Baekhyun didn't have a good feeling about what was to come. “She didn't even want to hear your name. I don't know what exactly happened between you two, but it would be healthy if you both talk. You know she cannot get this upset while being pregnant. She was choking on her own sobs.”

Baekhyun closed his eyes and left your hand so he could pinch the bridge of his nose. Just what the hell was up with you? “She came to visit me at the university today, but she had such a change of mood, mother. I was shocked myself and I try to understand, I really do but it has been difficult recently.” Let alone she was lying to me, he thought but kept quiet.

Your mother sighed again; she trusted Baekhyun and wasn't doubtful about him at all. She also knew what pregnancy mood swings meant, so she was not blaming entirely you just as she knew Baekhyun could have been falsely accused. She knew him ever since he was a baby after all. “I understand, sweetie, and I am not blaming you at all. I will let you rest. I know you also don't have it easy, dear,” she added, affection lacing her voice, “so please I just ask you to have some patience with her for now. She can be a handful.”

“I do, mother, you know I do,” replied Baekhyun right away, looking at your sleeping face. “I can't get mad at her even if I want to.”

At that she laughed. “My sweet boy. I hope I can call you my son-in-law very soon.”

“Actually yes. Sooner than later.”

You found yourself seated on the wooden bench, a book about multiples' pregnancy perched on your thighs while you tried hard not to stare at your boyfriend clad in his hapkido uniform.

He was currently leading his class with Jiyoung, the girl because of whom it all went downwards. Bitterly, you stopped yourself from blaming it on someone like her. It wasn't her fault. Why, you ask? Because…

Few days ago

“Can you explain to me what happened on Monday?” murmured Baekhyun as you were both lying in bed, the dimmed light on his side still on, as he just finished going through his notes from the previous lectures. It made you resent yourself even more knowing how much he had on his plate, yet you couldn't even control your emotions as soon as he stood next to a pretty lady or he looked at you weirdly.

You sighed, rubbing your temple as you were lying on your back. Baekhyun turned his head to look at you, pausing, contemplating. Then, he slowly changed positions, lying on his right side, his hand slowly dragging on the surface of the mattress, reaching your hip and sliding it up over your belly that was sticking out, giving it gentle rubs as he waited patiently for you to talk.

“I won't get mad,” he had the need to add which made you scoff, and him chuckle.

“It's so fucking stupid, Baekhyun, and don't say I can't swear while being pregnant.”

He frowned gently. “Well, it obviously made you upset,” he argued, “so it cannot be fucking stupid.”

He saw you gritting your teeth, and he slid his gaze over your profile, how the light was illuminating the part of your face to which he was turned to. He honestly thought you looked breathtaking and would have kissed you whole night if it weren't for the confusion he was currently feeling. In that moment, he wanted answers more than anything.

“What is Jiyoung-” you trailed off and Baekhyun raised an eyebrow, “to you? To your class? To… hapkido?” Asking, instead of answering him. Great. Although, you weren't expecting silence that followed. You imagined him chuckling at your ridiculousness but he didn't. He didn't and it almost made you lose yourself once again, but he spoke: “She is a master like me,” he spoke softly, and you focused on his warm hand sliding over your belly. You turned your head a little to catch his gaze that was already burning holes on your face. “I didn't tell you until I was sure, which I became on Monday, but then things happened…”

“Sure about what?”

“I am leading the hapkido universiade team with her, but I am the main master,” he revealed, his face still in a gentle frown. “She was assigned to do it together with me, so that is why she was there during practice, too. And she will be from now on until July.”

“But is she like a teacher at Sungkyunkwan or something?”

He shook his head. “She is from Kyunghee university where she is the head of department. There was a joint alliance with them for the hapkido team and also, if we win this, I might have a chance to work with the National team later on,” he explained patiently, not tearing his gaze away from yours.

So many things you were founding out, so many good news. That meant Jiyoung was older than Baekhyun! That was definitely good news! And you ruined it all on Monday and you completely misunderstood the entire situation.

“Baekhyun,” you whispered, closing your eyes. Humming in response, he now caressed your cheek, his thumb making slow circles. “I'm so sorry. For being the way I was. What you just said,” you stuttered, opening your eyes, urgency in them, “is all amazing news and I couldn't be any more proud of you.”

“Shh, it's okay, princess,” he whispered, scooting closer to your side.

“No,” you shook your head, “I thought… I was… jealous, so jealous. I shouldn't have let the emotions control me like that. I shouldn't have just left you like that. I apologise,” you said sincerely, staring into his eyes that were now casted in shadow as he was with his back towards the light. Yet, the burning behind his eyes could hardly go unnoticed by you.

“You are so mean when you are jealous,” he blurted, intending to make you chuckle which he succeeded in, but then it disappeared just as quickly and you nudged his cheek with your nose to get more out from him. He sighed, eventually. “You know you can trust me, right? You know I would never want to lose your trust despite you lying to me.”

At that, you whimpered, pouting and widening your eyes at him, still terribly ashamed for what you had done.

“It's okay, I am not holding grudges,” he insisted, “but you know I can't stand you not trusting me, hm? I already know I want to spend the rest of my life with you and with our kids,” he murmured and at that he caressed the belly yet again as he buried his face in your neck, sending goosebumps down your spine. “So why do I have a feeling you keep doubting me?”

You stiffened, but his caresses didn't cease, which meant he wasn't upset. You raised your hand, playing with his hair as you mumbled: “No, I don't doubt you at all. It's the hormones. It's the babies. You know that before getting pregnant we were just fine.”

“I know,” he whispered, his hot breath fanning the skin on your pulse point, “it is always the babies fault, right?”

“Please.”

“Please, what?” he asked, curious as he pulled back to look at your face.

“Just… I apologise, Baekhyun.”

His eyes searched your gaze. “And I forgive you. But you need to promise me you won't get so worked up over nothing in the future.”

“I won't.”

“By nothing I mean anything. If it isn't a life or death situation, I don't want you to pay it too much attention.”

You watched his mouth move as he spoke, going on about what the doctor said, what the books said about triplet pregnancy, what he thought would be the best for you. And you tried to listen, you really did, but you were head over heels for him; he was mesmerizing and he understood your crazy whirlwind of emotions, and you loved him. So much.

“Are you listening?” he asked, snapping his fingers two times in front of your face. “Young lady, you keep zoning out on me.”

You smiled at his playful manner and he reciprocated the gorgeous grin as he leaned in closer. “I am listening, I am. I just realised once again how much I love you, Baekhyun.”

His grin turned into an affectionate, lopsided smile and he eyed your lips before flicking his orbs back to yours, murmuring your name. “And I love you. Do you understand? I love you. Only you. Can you actually understand?”

“No,” you whispered, dreamy look on your face as you were bewitched by him. He shook his head, and reached for your face, brushing the baby hair out of your forehead. “It's difficult to get it through my thick head that someone like you loves someone like me.”

“How would I make you understand then?”

“Show me. I want you to kiss me, it's been too long.”

He leaned in more, his eyes constantly flicking between your lips and your eyes as he muttered with narrowed eyes: “You're horny again, aren't you?”

You let out a breathy laugh as you sneaked your hands around his neck, bringing him closer. “For you? Always.”

He chuckled just as he kissed you, smiling widely into your mouth before playing with your lower lip, going straight for a gentle bite that he knew would ignite the fire in you.

“Are we doing another make-up sex?” he murmured between kisses, slowly climbing over you and you gladly widened your legs for him.

“Uh-uh, you're making love to me because you need to show me you love me.”

He kissed your neck, laughing quietly. “You're shameless.”

“So are you. Now, do your magic, honey.”

And now here you were, as per his order, watching him. As you would be every week whenever he wasn't home. If he could have, he would have dragged you to all his lectures as well, but you managed to talk him out of it. Honestly, you didn't mind this at all, as you really enjoyed observing him teaching hapkido and doing all the cool moves he was so smooth at doing. It was true you would get tired and wooden bench was only so comfortable for you to sit through couple of hours.

During the break, Baekhyun jogged to you with an energetic smile and leaned in to give you a quick peck. “You good over here?” he asked as his team erupted in big laughters, everyone enjoying their break time.

You beamed up at your boyfriend. “Yes, all fine.”

He smiled even wider at that, ruffling your hair as he looked down on the book in your lap. “Is it any good?”

“Well, for sure although I'm learning some disturbing stuff,” you muttered, worry flashing through your eyes that made Baekhyun raise his eyebrows.

“We will finish in 50 minutes and then you can tell me all about it, how is that?” he asked gently, and grabbed your cheeks to observe you closer.

You giggled and he seemed satisfied. “Alright, let's do that.”

He was just leaning in for another kiss when someone cleared their throat muttering a little excuse me, making Baekhyun move away from you. “Jiyoung.”

“Sorry to disturb, but I think it would be better if we stay longer today. For practice, I mean,” she said, her eyes wandering over to you and a bit lower, obviously looking at the baby bump. She snapped her eyes back at Baekhyun's questioning face. “It's better if we start going through basic kicks now, just so the kids can remember each technique correctly and from then build on it.”

You watched Baekhyun's back, but he was relaxed. “The kids are black belts, 4-5 dans in at least, though,” he replied diplomatically, “I don't see the point in going through basic kicks. Techniques should come to them as second nature by now.”

“I still think we should start having longer practices,” she insisted. “So your girlfriend might be a bit uncomfortable sitting here for such a long time.”

Wow, you thought, she was actually dragging you into this somehow. Interesting.

“I don't mind,” you heard yourself say before you could think twice. “So do whatever you deem correct.”

“Not today, no,” Baekhyun decided. “After December we will be good with longer practices if necessary,” he emphasized. “If we don't slack off, we can manage just fine.”

She gave a confident smile. “Alright then. I suppose you won't mind if we start the class now.”

What a bitch, you thought again.

“I won't mind. You may start,” was Baekhyun's curt nod and he turned around to face you, his actions heating your cheeks up as he crouched in front of you and took your hands in his before bringing them up to his lips.

“Alright, master.” And she was gone.

“What are you doing?” you whisper-shouted, but the excited glint in your eyes told Baekhyun you loved what he just pulled.

“Prioritizing you.”

You smiled graciously, and leaned in, pecking his lips.

Couple of weeks went by, you following Baekhyun to his practice, while you were found your way back to knitting that you so diligently used to do when you were younger, your mum teaching you as a little girl. Trying hard not to sound annoyed or desperate for any activity, you made sure you were always smiling and at peace in your mind. You promised your boyfriend you would look after yourself and that was what you had been trying to do. You even managed to sell some of the scarfs and gloves you knitted, given it was now nearing the end of December.

You smiled up at Baekhyun who dismissed the class, not waiting until Jiyoung and the students leave. “Ready to go?”

“Yes,” he replied, some perspiration on his forehead glistening in the practice room. “Can't wait to have a rest.”

You stood up to your feet slowly, minding your blood pressure, and reached for a handkerchief before grabbing his hand so he wouldn't move away. “Let me,” you murmured as you reached up and tapped the textile gently along his hairline.

His eyes focused down on you, affection and love melting his features into the softest smile. “Thank you.”

“We don't want daddy to catch a cold, right?” you chirped enthusiastically.

Baekhyun quirked an eyebrow at you, never hearing the nickname leave your mouth before. You would always get extremely embarrassed when he called you mummy, so this was a new discovery. “Yeah, otherwise how would daddy protect mummy, hm?”

Just as expected, you grew red in your face and quickly looked around, making sure no one was too near to overhear.

“What? You started,” he laughed quietly before leaning in to kiss your cheek, leaving it with a loud smooch and moisture on your skin. “Mummy.”

Your eyes widened and you laughed along with him before he moved to pack up his stuff. All the students who were now leaving farewelled cheerfully, always enjoying how flustered you would get from the attention, because master Baekhyun's girlfriend is so cute! and of course, he would encourage them, showing you off, which always warmed your heart.

“Not tired?”

You turned to the right to see Jiyoung approaching, a glass bottle in her hand as her high ponytail swung with each step she made. “I'm okay, thank you. Aren't you tired?”

“Nope,” she said, the p sound bopping like a bubble. “Master Baekhyun has been a bit slacking off with the workouts, eh?” she chuckled, nudging Baekhyun who was putting on his jacket with her elbow.

“Well, I can always make it especially hard for you, Jiyoung,” was his confident reply.

Oh my god, he was so hot you actually had to cross your legs while standing.

She smirked. “I would love to finally find out what does this especially hard mean, master.”

Well, you definitely didn't find her confidence hot. If anything, you wanted to warn her not to challenge Baekhyun too much.

“Alright, especially hard it is then,” he concluded just as he zipped up his jacket and took his gym bag, slugging it over his shoulder.

Jiyoung's eyes sparked with excitement, you could see that. It was always there, actually. Coming to the practices with him for two weeks, you kind of learnt to read her. She was a professional, you knew that much. She wasn't openly hitting on your boyfriend, no. It was in these subtle talks that irked you because you couldn't do anything about them, just tolerate and trust Baekhyun. Which, he really not once made you doubt - his trust. He would always prove you his love to you, and you to him. It was so obvious. He only had eyes for you.

Even now, as he stood in front of you, touching your hip gently and sliding his hand to your lower back to lead you out and saying his bye to the disappointed face of his hapkido partner, you knew it.

“Baekhyun,” you said once outside on the half-dead campus as you were making your way to the bus stop, the dark sky not showing any clouds which only meant another freezing night.

“Yes, angel.” He intertwined your fingers and pushed the connected hands into his pocket.

“I was thinking… What if I just went home?”

He stopped walking, looking at you a bit taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“I feel a bit useless, you know. But also quite tired from all of this,” you said showing your belly that was sticking out. “So I thought I would visit home.”

“But we have regular check ups at the clinic,” he replied, his eyes wandering over your features. His nose was growing a bit red which you found adorable, which is why you stood on your tippy toes and gave him a little peck on it.

“I know… but if I would miss one appoint-”

“No.”

“Baek-”

“You are not missing an appointment, baby,” he said, this time more sternly as he looked down at you, his hair that was trapped under a red beanie made his soft hair fall into his eyes.

You pressed your lips together, understanding his choice. “So, I would go only for two weeks.”

Something flashed across his eyes, something that you couldn't decipher. “What about me?”

Yes, what about Baekhyun? “You have lots on your plate right now,” you reasoned, squeezing his hand that was trapped in his pocket. “You could study better, and focus more on the practices. And, you could totally go and have a good time with your friends, or even invite them over, hm?”

“You actually think I would let you travel alone? With your blood pressure?”

“C'mon, by KTX it takes an hour and a half and then taxi just twenty minutes out of town.”

You felt like you were contradicting yourself. You, the one who was always trying to save up money was willing to pay a lot just to travel. KTX tickets were already very expensive. Taxis as well. But there was very little public transportation going to your village and you didn't feel like taking it with your big belly.

Baekhyun didn't say anything for a while, just staring at you. “Why this sudden- need?” is what he asked eventually.

“You know I miss mum,” you mumbled, averting your gaze.

“I know it's difficult,” he sighed, the action condensing his breath. “But I can't let you go by yourself, no way. Besides,” he added eagerly, “it's Korean new year soon. Can't you wait just a little longer? We both will be going home for that, you know that.”

He was right. It was literally around the corner.

“It's just in two weeks time, hm?” he asked, quirking his eyebrows at you, pleading to say yes. When he saw you contemplating, he mumbled: “I am not letting you go alone, anyway, so you better agree.”

You huffed in disbelief and dragged him towards the bus stop. “Let's go home. I will think about it.”

“Tomorrow we have a double-date with Chen's, did you forget that too?” he said as he let you drag him after you.

“No, I didn't. I would have gone the day after.”

“Well, you wouldn't leave me alone for such a long time, right?”

That made you stop and turn to him just to witness the puppy eyes and a prominent pout that made you smile softly at him as you walked even closer, resting your forehead on his jacket-clad chest. “I hate even the idea of not being with you for two weeks, Baekhyun.”

“Exactly. So just wait until we can go together, hm? Please? I don't want you to go. I can't even sleep without you anymore.”

You chuckled and leaned back, catching his small smile. “Alright. I think.”

He whined your name before he grabbed you by your waist with his free hand and brought your hips closer as he hovered a bit over you. “Alright, I won't go is what you wanted to say,” he muttered before kissing you hungrily. It was such a contrast; outside, the air was freezing, but your hot mouths pressed together, his body glued to yours as he breathed in loudly before tilting his head, asking for access with his eager tongue was hot, burning up. You moaned quietly, just for him to hear and he growled in response, a satisfactory hum leaving his throat while he circled your tongue, sucking on it, making you gasp because you were in public. He kissed you, and kissed you until you were completely breathless, until you were fully convinced that he didn't want you anywhere far from him. Even if it meant he could focus more on his practice, studies and whatever else you just listed. Even if it meant a short time.

He didn't want you away. And that was final.

#baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun angst #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun oneshot #baekhyun scenario #exo fanfiction #exo fluff #exo au #baekhyun au #exo angst #exo smut #kpop fanfiction #kpop au #kpop scenario #mywritings

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dw-writes · 3 years

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Can I get a request for a John Kennex x Reader? Soulmate Au or maybe even that fate keeps throwing them together? You're freaking amazing BTW *Hugs*

SCREAMS YES??? I LOVE SOULMATE AUS SO MUCH!!!!!! And, I mean, look at him!! What a cutie. What a fucking smartass. I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS!!!!! Also @writerdee1701 here is some John Kennex!! ( @outside-the-government i think ive seen you reblog Kennex stuff but if not!! i’m sorry!)

A soulmate wasn’t something you wanted. You had sat and suffered and cried over thinking that you had one only to lose it because it wasn’t real and for what? Because the world – the universe? – told you that you were supposed to have a soulmate? Because the moment you turned eighteen the first words your soulmate was meant to say to you appeared on your arm?

No way.

So, after months of intensive therapy and accepting a new job in a city on the opposite side of the country, you did what any sane-but-majorly-depressed person would do: you got the tattoo covered.

You brushed your thumb over the healed black band that encircled your left arm, smiling to yourself – your sister, bless her, had suggested adding flowers, and your tattoo artist had been more than happy to include blooming flowers all around the band, even going so far as to outline them in UV ink, so that you could see the pieces that would be covered by the band itself. You tugged the sleeve of your shirt down to your wrist as you walked into the building, ready for another day at work – another case, another job well done.

You sighed and nodded at your MX-43 as you sat at your desk.

“Don’t look so excited to be here.” You looked up at the voice and felt your lips curl in a smile. John Kennex returned it and held out a second cup of coffee. You took with a grateful grin. “Dunno if you heard, but we’re workin’ a case together today,” he said, leaning on your desk.

You arched an eyebrow as you took a slow sip from your cup. It was just how you liked it, and it warmed you from the inside out. “Again?” you finally asked after another deep drink. He nodded. “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d almost say we were partners,” you teased.

“I think the captain likes our closure rate,” he pointed out.

“Uh, you mean my closure rate,” you said as you drained your cup and stood, “You just happen to be along for the ride.”

“Oh?” he challenged.

You nodded and grabbed your things from your desk. “Yeah.”

“Those sound like fighting words,” he remarked.

You hummed. “If they were fighting words, I’d say you were there to look pretty, but that’s Dorian’s job!” you chirped. You wrinkled your nose. “You do give good hugs though, so, there’s that.” You patted his chest as you walked past him. “Let’s go!”

Captain Maldonado leaned out of her office as you and John walked past her with a shout of, “Masks!” Both of you lifted your hands and waved over your shoulders.

You didn’t mind sitting in the back of John’s cruiser with your MX, rubbing your thumb over your tattoo as Dorian and your MX rattled off the particulars of the case. You felt eyes on your face throughout the ride but didn’t look up to meet them. When John pulled up to the crime scene, he waved Dorian ahead with your MX and grabbed your arm before you walked past. It took you a moment to look up and, when you did, he was frowning.

“Where are you?” he whispered. You opened your mouth. He shook his head. “Don’t say here, or thinking about the case,” he murmured, “You didn’t hear a word Dorian said on the way here.”

You sighed. “My sister found her soulmate,” you said as you waved towards the bright light line of the ticker tape. John shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked with you. “It’s funny, she’s been living next door to him for a year while teaching in Scotland, and she didn’t know it was him until she ran into him in the hall during laundry day. He had a bird on his shoulder, this big thing, she sent me a picture of it, actually.” You adjusted your mask and pulled out your phone, opening the picture. It was side by side with another photo, one of a bird with its wing in a splint.

John nodded at it. “What’s that?” he asked.

You smiled to yourself. “Before she left, we found a bird in our building parking lot. It had a broken wing, and Maria, she’s got this huge soft spot for birds, so we took it to the vet and they walked us through how to take care of it.”

“And it’s the same bird her soulmate has tattooed, right?” he asked.

“How, how, how does it know that?” you asked, stopped short of the crime scene. You scratched at your arm through your sleeve. “She got her mark when she turned eighteen just like everyone else, and it was a, a, a set of card suits to a losing hand of poker, which turned out to be the exact same hand that Richard had when he lost a bet that ended up with him applying to college to be a teacher.” You shook your head. “I don’t—I don’t understand.”

John’s eyebrows were arched high when you finally looked at him. You ran your fingers behind your ears to adjust your mask while he carefully pulled his off and scratched his chin. “If it makes you feel better,” he said with one of those crooked, amused smiles of his, “I don’t understand it either.”

“No, it doesn’t make me feel better, John, because no one understands it,” you shot back, puffing your cheeks. You turned on your heel and stalked towards the dead body and Dorian and your MX were patiently waiting for you by.

“I’m just trying to make you feel better!” he shouted after your retreating form.

“A for effort!” you shouted back.

The case was a bust in terms of being complicated – the body was a mess, but there was a phone left behind, and a tagged post from the victim with someone else, a boyfriend, who confessed the moment he saw you rolling up to his apartment by shouting out of his window and jumping from it. He wound up with a broken leg and was sitting for sentencing.

John paused at a desk in the bullpen when the two of you returned. You glanced back quickly to find him talking with Valerie, and smiled, pulling off your mask. Dorian followed after you as you wandered back to your desk.

“What’s your mark?” he asked when you sat down.

You glanced up from setting your mask in the UV sanitizer. “That’s…” You leaned back and cleared your throat. “That’s a little out of the blue for you, D.” You shook your head, then picked up your keyboard and started to type out your report. “What, uh, what gives?”

“Saw you and John talking about soulmates earlier,” he said as he pulled up a chair. When you glanced up, he smirked. “I can read lips,” he answered.

You gently tossed your keyboard away from you and sighed. Your eyes drifted across the bullpen. John’s smile still hadn’t faded. “Do you know Chromes don’t have soulmate marks?” you commented.

“No, no, I didn’t know that,” Dorian replied.

You nodded, “Mhmm.” Then, scrubbed your hands over your face, you tilted your head back over the back of your chair. “Something about the way that the changing of genetic make-up eliminates whatever code is programed in us that makes the soulmate tattoos.” You dropped your hands. “He could pick Valerie and no one would argue about it.”

“You’re jealous,” Dorian replied.

“Not jealous,” you shot back.

Dorian adjusted his feet and leaned closer. “So, what’s your mark?” he asked again.

You wrinkled your nose and sat up, pulling your keyboard back to you. Dorian continued to stare. You turned your arm over and yanked up your sleeve. He took your wrist to turn your arm out more. “I got it covered up,” you said, stroking your thumb over a spot in the middle of the black band. “I kinda had a melt down after my mark appeared, and when I finally started to really believe that a soulmate doesn’t make a person, I got it covered.”

“So, what was it?” he asked again. He pushed your thumb aside and brushed his fingers over the band. As he did so, you felt eyes land on you. You set your cheek on your fist. The lights on the side of Dorian’s face lit up. “I see UV ink,” he said as he continued to trace the tattoo, “Flowers?”

“Moonflowers,” you answered with a shrug, “They only bloom once and in very specific conditions.”

“Like a soulmate,” he added with a smile. He looked back down at the band. “Is that a rectangle?”

You pulled your arm back and tugged the sleeve down. “Yeah,” you said. You swallowed a lump that had formed in your throat. “Yeah, just a rectangle.”

“No, there was something else—”

“Everything okay here?” You and Dorian looked up. John stood in front of your desk, glancing between the two of you with a concerned frown. You scratched your neck and nodded, motioning to your screen. Dorian stood and pushed the chair back where it belonged. “You sure?” John asked you.

You nodded again. “Yeah.” You sat back, adjusting the keyboard in front of you. “I’m gonna stay and finish this report. I’ll send it in for the both of us, okay?”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.” You smiled. “Get outta here.”

He hesitated by your desk, knocking his knuckles against it. “Let me know if you need help, okay?” he murmured.

You stared at him. “John—”

“I’m goin’,” he sighed.

You fished around in your bag and pulled out a set of wireless headphones, then synced it up to your phone, and got to work. Valerie left with a man you didn’t recognize, and Richard walked out after her a few hours later. Captain Maldonado left shortly after them. The lights dimmed and the MX’s headed off to the elevators that took them down to the basement. You stretched your arms above your head and groaned, then tugged the sleeves of your shirt up and twisted around in your seat.

Someone pulled your headphone off. You jumped. John stepped back, holding his hands up. The set dangled from his fingers.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said with an amused smile.

“Why are you still here?” you sighed, rubbing your face. You flopped back into your seat and turned to your computer. John pulled up a chair. He set the headphones down after powering them off, then slid a glass over to you. You stared at it.

“It’s bourbon,” he said with a nod to the glass. You turned your chair slowly until you faced him. “Thought you could use it.”

You picked it up. “You thought right,” you slowly said. He held up his glass. You clinked your own against it with a smile.

As John took a slow drink, he pointed at your arm. You turned it out towards him. “Dorian said it was a moonflower?”

You stopped, the glass to your lips. “Why?” you hesitantly asked.

He stared at your tattoo for a long time. Then, he gulped down the rest of his bourbon and pulled up his sleeve. On the outside of his bicep was a simple rectangle. He turned his arm out and showed you the inside of his arm. The outline of a familiar flower stared back at you. You practically threw your glass onto the desk and slid to the edge of your seat. You traced the flower with a faint touch.

“It was on my leg,” he said after a long stretch of silence. You bit your lip. “Nurse in the ICU was nice enough to draw it better for me after about a hundred ugly little sketches.” You gasped out a laugh, dazed at the fact that it was there, right in front of you. “So, what’s in the rectangle?” he asked.

You glanced up, too engrossed in the fact that your flower was tattooed on his skin. The flower you had thought a good representation of a soulmate - something you made, that was unique, that only appeared after certain conditions were met. You shook your head faintly, and whispered, “The name Reginald in your shitty handwriting.”

“You knew?” he asked.

You licked your lips and hesitantly pulled your hands back. “I dunno, I didn’t know for sure, I hadn’t seen the handwriting since I got it covered up, I—”

John cupped your face in his hands, cutting your sentence off. He leaned in, paused, then closed the gap between you both in a surprisingly soft kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed.

Soulmate or not, you couldn’t believe that he returned your feelings. You gripped the front of his shirt and kissed him back.

#almost human #john kennex #john kennex x reader #john kennex/reader #almost human on fox #almost human requests #almost human asks #hlabounty96

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cutesuki--bakugou · 4 years

Text

Switched

Main Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Koge Naegi (OC)

Story Rating: Explicit

Genre: Fluff / Romance / Domestic / Humor

Story Warnings: Body swapping, Foreplay (fingering / hand job), Masturbation, Sex (vaginal), Implied oral at the end, Alcohol, Intoxication, Cursing, Degrading dirty talk

Words: 7,447

a/n: This was incredibly difficult, awkward, and confusing to write, but I had a lot of fun with it and I hope it’s not too all over the place! I also hope no one gets too confused reading it but... either way, enjoy!

Written for the @bnhabookclub ‘s members bingo event!

Crossed off: Body Swap

Bingo Masterlist

BTW, please blacklist the tag cutesuki-lemons if you do not want to see this content from my blog. I will no longer be tagging with specific keywords for this type of content.Thank you~

Due to the nature of this post, the characters are 18+

Art in banner by me

“Uh… Katsuki-” Koge choked on her own voice, covering her mouth as she peered down at her lover in complete shock. Or, well, she was technically staring down at… herself? What had happened? How the hell was she staring down at herself, her own pale blue gaze locked on her with just as much confusion. Her eyes that she had only ever seen through a reflection grew from surprised to absolutely horrified, skin growing pale - or, paler - as her body began to tremble.

“W-what the fuck, why do I-- wait, that’s not--!” Mimicking Koge’s previous movements of covering her mouth, the petite woman took a few steps back, looking up and down the body that Koge herself currently inhabited. “Not my voice! Why are you--? How did we--?!”

Taking in a deep breath through her nose, Koge finally looked down at her body, squeaking out in shock at the view she had of a muscular torso clad in a black tank top. Next, her large hands moved up into her hair, feeling around the shortness of the soft locks that she was highly familiar with.

“Don’t make that sound with my voice!”

“Your voice?” Koge looked back down at Bakugou, and she could now, without a doubt, confirm the horrible and shocking truth.

The two of them had switched bodies.

“Katsuki, how the hell did this happen?” Koge took a few steps forward, placing both of her hands on Bakugou’s cheeks, though the size of them threw her off, nearly poking him in the eye. With a scoff and a snarl that Koge had never seen on her own face before, Bakugou smacked her hands away, frantically looking around them for the source of what had caused this catastrophe.

“That person that bumped into us earlier! It had to have been them! Where the fuck did they go?” Bakugou began his trek back down the sidewalk the way the couple had originally come, white hair flipping and bobbing in its high ponytail as he looked around with snappy and rushed movements. People around them were also quite confused, stepping out of his way to avoid the fuming tiny body. Not wanting him to get too far away from her, Koge trotted after him, her newfound long legs making it quite easy to catch up.

“Wait, wait, wait! Katsuki, we didn’t even see what he looked like, we can’t just go storming through the streets like this.”

“No, I saw what he looked like!” Bakugou tried to look back at her, though his gaze instinctively went down, instead landing on Koge’s thighs. Embarrassment flashed across his face before he looked up, catching Koge’s gaze only for a moment before becoming visibly frustrated. “We can’t stay like this!”

“I know that we can’t, Katsuki, but there are literally hundreds of people out right now. And you… don’t have a quirk that can get you up high anymore…” Koge timidly fiddled with her unfamiliar blunt nails, brow furrowed in worry. “I don’t know what to do about it.”

“He was a fucking bald dude. And don’t pick at my nails, they’re short enough as it is!” Bakugou slapped her hands, though he did step in closer. “Take us up onto that building! I have my hero license if someone tries to stop us--”

“I can’t use your quirk!” Her voice went higher than she had ever heard Bakugou’s in her panic, and the annoyance was visible on Bakugou’s face as his nose scrunched up. “Katsuki I wouldn’t even know how to activate it. And what if I did too strong of an explosion? I could kill people!” With a shake of her head, Koge shoved her hands into her pockets firmly. “No, I won’t even try--”

“-- But we gotta find that asshole!”

“I know we do, my love, but that just isn’t safe! We still have to be responsible…”

“Then what do we do?”

Koge looked up and down the sidewalk, giving a heavy sigh as she gazed over the bobbing heads of the packed crowds walking around them. “We just… we’ll have to look for him on foot, I guess. Let’s just go down the way we came from and I’ll try to spot him. You said bald? Anything else?”

Falling oddly silent, Bakugou’s face flushed in agitation, both of his hands clutching onto the hem of the skirt Koge had worn that day. The longer he stood there silently, trying to coordinate his thoughts, the more his body began to tremble.

“I… can’t remember…” Bakugou grumbled, eyes falling to look down at the sidewalk in defeat. “And there’s a million bald bastards in this city. Fuck!”

Frowning, Koge caressed Bakugou’s arms gently, momentarily surprised at the way his entire hand could easily wrap around her body's upper arm. She truly was a tiny woman, though seeing it from this point of view was shocking. “Katsuki, let’s just… Why don’t we go to the police? If I was paying attention correctly, he seemed to bump into us very purposefully… I wonder if he’s doing these things to couples and random people to cause trouble.”

Suddenly, Bakugou’s eyes lit up, as if a lightbulb had gone off inside his brain. “Ah, wait…! Shit.” Fumbling with the small purse slung over his shoulder, Bakugou pulled out Koge’s phone, poking the screen with lightning fast panic before holding the phone up to his ear. While they waited for whoever it was to answer, Koge used her grip on his arm to pull him off to the side into a little alleyway between businesses, so that they wouldn’t be in the way and she could possibly hear the conversation as well.

“Put it on speaker--”

With another glance up at her, Bakugou did so, holding the phone between them as they listened to it ring. Finally, a ring cut off, the cheery voice of their close friend ringing through the air.

“Koge! Hey, how’s it going?”

“It’s not Koge, shittyhair, it’s me!”

“What? You sound like Koge, but she never calls me that.”

“It’s me, Bakugou!”

“Bakugou? Uh… Koge, is this like… a prank?”

Tensing up with teeth clenched in a snarl, Bakugou nearly looked like he was about to throw the phone on the ground, even squatting down slightly in his typical aggressive posture with his other hand held up in agitation. “No-!”

“N-no, Eijirou, it’s not a prank. Just… something happened, I’m not sure why Bakugou called you--” Koge interrupted, stepping in a bit closer to not only make sure that Kirishima could hear her clearly, but also to keep Bakugou from breaking her phone.

“Okay, this is really trippy, man. You’re not messing with me?”

“Just listen to me!” Bakugou barked loudly, startling Koge enough to make her jump. “You know that fucking guy we got a report on yesterday? The bitch that is making people switch bodies?” Koge caught Bakugou’s gaze, though the glare he gave her told her to hold her tongue for a moment. “What’d it say? It wasn’t in my jurisdiction, so I didn’t pay much attention to it.”

“That’s not very hero-ish of you, man, you should pay attention to all of--”

“I don’t need a fucking lecture, asshole!”

“Wow, it’s so weird to hear Koge talk like this! Okay, okay. Yeah, I remember, what about it?”

“Did they say anything about the quirk? How long it lasts or what to do if you get hit by it?” Seeming comforted by the fact that Kirishima knew what he was talking about, Bakugou’s posture relaxed, standing up straight with his free hand firmly on his hip. Koge had to admit that seeing her body acting out all these familiar reactions was very trippy, especially since she had grown quite desensitized from years and years of being with Bakugou.

“Oh, wait, did you really get hit with it--?”

“Are you shitting me right now?!” Bakugou barked, even somehow producing his signature growl using Koge’s meek voice. “Would I be asking if it hadn’t happened?!”

“Oh, true, I guess. Uh, yeah, they said that it goes away on its own after a few days-”

“Days?!”

“Yeah, man. Just lay low for a while. You’re on vacation anyway, aren’t you? No one has to know! I won’t tell.”

“Don’t fucking talk to anyone about it. Not even Curls, got it?!” As he gave an aggressive point at the phone screen, Koge had to hold back a laugh and keep her snide comments to herself. She couldn’t help a little snort from escaping, however, and Bakugou’s finger moved to her, as did his warning glare that this statement applied to her, too.

“Haha, don’t worry, Nene won’t hear it from me! Ya need anything else, man? I actually have a villain like… tied up right now-”

“And you still answered the fucking phone?”

“Well yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

Bakugou gave a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance, mumbling to himself at the idiocy of his best friend. “Alright. Thanks.”

“No problem! Later!”

With the farewell, Bakugou hung up the call, turning his annoyed glare up to Koge, who released a small sigh in relief. “Well, Katsuki, I guess… We should do that?”

Putting the phone away, Bakugou shook his head, turning his glare out to watch the people passing by. “I fucking hate it. I want to be able to catch that fucker.” How antsy he had become was visible, as if he were hanging on the tips of his toes to run off again and search the entire city himself. That would be a fruitless venture, and if Koge didn’t come up with some way to pull him back, he was going to go trotting around in her body and cause who knows how much trouble.

“I know, love.” Koge took both of his hands again gently, unable to help the small smile on her lips at how Bakugou’s cheeks flushed at her touch. “But don’t worry. It’ll pass. How about we just continue on with our day?”

“There’s no fucking way I’m going to a movie and shit like this, Utsuro. Let’s just go home.” How quickly he gave in was quite surprising, his brow furrowing in helplessness. “I feel fucking weird standing out here in a damn skirt, anyway. Couldn’t you have worn hose or leggings? Something besides just these fucking underwear that are all the way up my crack!”

Koge instantly burst out in a choked laugh, covering her lips with one hand to try and hide her amused smile. “Well, someone told me to wear those earlier while we were getting ready. They look cute, but they’re really uncomfortable.”

“Then why do you wear them!?”

“Because they’re your favorite right now. Though I bet that’s gonna change now that you gotta walk all the way home in them.” Koge placed both her hands on his cheeks, pushing white bangs out of the way to press a sweet kiss on his forehead. “Or, if you really want, just slip them off and put them in the purse. No one will know unless the wind blows the skirt up.”

Growling as his face flushed a dark crimson from the affection, Bakugou gripped onto both of her hands, digging the tips of his fingers between her palms and his cheeks. “Don’t use my body to kiss yours! It’s weird! And no, I’m not going to pussy out and take them off. If you can deal with them for me, then I can take it.” Even though his voice was aggressive, the softness in his gaze as he looked up at her gave away how appreciative he was of her calming and distracting him.

Ignoring his command, Koge gave him another smooch on the forehead before releasing him, though one of his hands stayed clutched onto hers tightly. “Let’s go home, then. We can just get tipsy off whisky and watch stupid horror movies instead.”

“I need to get fucking wasted to handle this shit.” Bakugou began to storm out of the ally, tugging her along by the hand, even though he was nearly pulled back just from the sturdiness of his muscular original body. “Fuck, walk, would’ya!?”

“I am!” Koge kept up with him, though she let out an audible groan only a few steps down the sidewalk, shoving her free hand into her pocket nervously. “I’m going to bump into all these people, I know it. I’m not used to being this huge!”

“And you think it’s easy for me to be this small?!” Bakugou scoffed, glaring up at Koge out of the corner of his eye. “You’re a shrimp! I feel like anyone could just step on me. I hate it.”

“Your dick is also super weird feeling,” Koge mumbled barely loud enough for Bakugou to hear. “It jiggles around when I walk, why do you wear such loose pants and boxers?”

“Maybe because I like the freedom? Be grateful I even wore boxers today, you know I usually don’t with sweatpants.”

“It’s weird! I feel like I need to walk with my legs spread-”

“-Don’t, you’ll make me look like a dipshit!”

“Oh, hm. Then I’m gonna do it, all the way home, and tomorrow there will be reports of the great Ground Zero walking around like he has a stick up his ass.”

“Utsuro…!”

…

They returned home within the hour, having bickered most of the way back on how to properly carry each other’s bodies and basic etiquette concerning skirts, which Bakugou failed to follow, as he demonstrated quite well by nearly flashing everyone while not holding the skirt down as a train flew past in the station. Koge was quick to hold it down for him, even if his initial reaction and bark not to touch his ass pulled in more attention than a little cheeky peek would have.

Otherwise it was a cacophony of “don’t slouch”, “you can’t just reach into your shirt to fix your bra in front of everyone”, “pull up your pants, they’re too far down your ass”, “don’t play pocket pool, everyone can see”, “stop frowning so much, you’ll give my face permanent wrinkles”, and whatever other little thing the couple could find to nitpick.

By the time they walked through the door to their apartment, Bakugou was beyond agitated, taking off his shoes before storming into the kitchen. “I’m not leaving this damn place until we’re normal again! Not for anything!”

With a small roll of her eyes at his attitude, Koge took her shoes off as well, leaving them at the entrance. Following her lover, she immediately burst out into laughter at the sight of him trying to reach up to their alcohol stash, which was on a cabinet shelf that she could never reach, not without the help of a chair, a stool, or a strong man. “What’s the matter, Katsuki? A little short, aren't cha?”

“I fucking swear Utsuro, I will destroy your stupid ass!”

“So you’ll destroy yourself? Doesn’t sound very productive.” Smirk on her lips, Koge slipped her hands under his arms, grabbing him by the armpits to easily hoist him up. “Up you go!”

Flailing, Bakugou didn’t even bother to grab the alcohol, snatching the skirt and holding it against his hips as a shocked squeak left his lips. “Hey! You bitch, put me down!”

Koge sputtered a chuckle, giving a roll of her eyes as she nudged him towards the cabinet. “Oh my god, Katsuki, it’s literally my body, why are you hiding yourself! Get the whisky!”

“I don’t need your help!”

“Love, I know better than anyone that you do need my help.”

“I’m not a fucking child-!”

“-Just get it and I’ll let you down!”

Huffing in defiance, Bakugou glared up at the bottle of alcohol before snatching it, holding it tightly to his chest before slamming the cabinet door closed. “Put me the fuck down!”

“But you’re so light! I could just carry you forever. Like my own little pocket Katsuki,” Koge plopped him down onto his feet, putting her hands triumphantly on her hips as she smiled down at him, though all she received in return was a flustered glare.

“Don’t ever pick me up again.”

“No?” Smile turning sly, Koge placed both of her hands firmly against the edge of the countertop, arms on either side of his body and trapping him in place. “I promise I won’t do it again. If you give me a kiss.”

Bakugou’s cheeks flushed all the way to his ears, immediately shaking his head. “No! Utsuro, that’s weird! That’s like kissing myself.”

“Nuh uh, you’re just kissing me.”

“You could kiss your own body and not be creeped out?” Glowering up at her, Bakugou popped the cork out of the whisky bottle, holding it tightly by the neck. Koge sighed, letting her head hang for a moment as she met his glare with one of her own.

“Katsuki. I want you to think of all the other weird shit we’ve done. You shove your fingers and your dick in my mouth during and after fucking me all the time. You eat me out - pussy and ass - and then kiss me. Honestly. You think I’m scared of kissing myself? Also,” Koge shifted her weight to the other foot, smile returning to her lips. “You have no excuses to be grossed out, either. You literally ate me out the other day, even after you had already cum in me. And you let me kiss you after sucking you off and everything else, too. No excuses.”

Falling silent in contemplation, Bakugou brought the bottle up to his lips, taking a decent swig of the dark liquid. “Why do you always have to have a rational reasoning for everything? I love that about you, but sometimes it pisses me off, ‘cause I can never win!”

“Soooo?” Koge’s smile grew, eyes growing brighter with her victory. “Kiss?”

Aggressively snatching onto the front of Koge’s shirt, Bakugou yanked her down, allowing their lips to press together in an awkward and uncoordinated mess. Koge was quick to try and recover it, however, taking hold of his cheeks and using her memory of the way he kissed her to mimic his movement and position. Bakugou wasn’t quite able to do the same, his smaller mouth a bit awkward for him, but neither seemed to mind when Koge pulled away. She nearly burst out into laughter at how incredibly red his face was, giving him one more peck on the lips before pulling away.

“Don’t be so shy, Katsuki! You have really soft lips, you know, you should enjoy it.”

“Yeah but your mouth is so fucking tiny, I felt like you were going to eat my face.”

“Well, we have a few days to practice. Maybe it’ll make us better kissers when we’re normal again.”

“You’re not getting another kiss, that was it.”

“I dunno, Katsuki. Who knows what that whisky will make you feel like in my body.”

…

As the sun set, the couple sat on the couch in their living room, watching whatever movie looked the most absurd. By now, the two of them had finished off the bottle of whisky, with Bakugou being the one to really go at it. Even though Koge had just as much as he had, she wasn’t feeling anything more than a little buzz, her body relaxed and eyes feeling heavy with the weight of alcohol. But, at the other end of the couch from where she sat, Bakugou seemed to be barely holding himself together.

Koge had warned him, though. She had told him that she was a total lightweight, and getting drunk was incredibly, and almost frighteningly, easy for her. Still, here he was, drinking like he was still in his own body. Pushed right to the edge of no longer being coherent or truly conscious of his actions or surroundings, Koge had taken the whisky away and put it up, leaving Bakugou to pout and whine. She could deal with it, since it was better than having to take care of him while he puked on the floor. Thankfully, they had a lot of snacks, too, so that helped to offset the intoxication just a little bit.

That didn’t help his attitude, though. Frustrated that she had taken the whisky away from him, he plopped himself on the other end of the couch, a permanent pout on his lips as he watched the television with hazy focus. She had tried to get him to return to cuddles, but he was being stubborn, so in the end, she let him sit alone to pout until he got lonely on his own.

“This movie is the worst.” Koge mumbled as she plopped some popcorn into her mouth, giving a sigh as she stretched out her legs along the couch, giving a small groan as they crackled and popped at the joints. “Jeez, Katsuki, your body is so sore! What the hell have you been doing that’s different with your workouts?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Bakugou mumbled, ignoring her feet as they rested against his thigh. “Whisky thief.”

With a roll of her eyes, Koge tossed some popcorn at him, hitting him in the cheek and making him jump. Huffing, Bakugou picked up the piece and threw it back, only to be pelted with at least five more pieces. “Stop, ya salty bitch!”

“You’re the salty bitch tonight.” Koge tossed another, only for Bakugou to somehow successfully catch it in his mouth despite his incoordination. “Ooh, nice one, babe. Even shitfaced you can still catch popcorn.”

“I am not shitfaced.” Bakugou began to pick up the pieces of popcorn that had fallen over his body, though one was particularly difficult as it fell between the impressive cleavage he now sported. “Damn you and your big tits!”

“What?! You love my tits, don’t act like that.” Koge’s attention was pulled back to the television with the sound of a particularly horrific scream, the gruesome death scene doing nothing to perturb her. “Aw, poor thing. Getting chopped up by a meat cleaver.”

“Oh damn, is that the sexy one?”

“Nah, it’s her friend. The sexy one is still off with her boyfriend.”

“The sexy one needs to come back, she looks like you.” Bakugou let out a belch, reaching out to grab the bottle of water Koge had given to him to drink. “I can’t look at you, so I have to look at her instead.”

Koge gave a small chortle, having to control herself to not burst out laughing as water accidentally dribbled out of his mouth and down his chin, once again landing on his chest and slipping down into his cleavage. “Katsuki, you can look at me. Just look down, you are literally in my body.”

“It’s not the same… Fuck!” Wiping his chin with the back of his hand, he grumbled in annoyance to himself, nearly missing the table while attempting to put the water bottle back in its place. “Why is this table so fucking far away.”

“It’s not. You drunk.”

“Fuck off. Ooh damn, there she is. How much she looks like you is fucking crazy. Oh shit, they’re getting frisky.” Bakugou settled back against the couch, intently focused on the TV to his highest capability.

“Do you love her more than me?”

“I want to fucking bone the shit out of you, Utsuro, but I can’t, so all I can do is stare at this cunt who looks like you.”

“So vicious. What if that was me? What if I’ve been a secret actor my whole life?”

“I said that she looked like you, but that doesn’t mean she’s exactly like you. You’re way fucking hotter than that bitch. Also, her fake moans sound like shit.” Pulling out another piece of popcorn that he had previously forgotten on his lap, Bakugou ate it, effectively ending that conversation as the hated fake moans filled the room. As the sex scene went on, Koge found herself watching for when they would be attacked by the murderer, but there was something that bothered her about it.

It was so damn long and more realistic than what she was used to seeing in B-rated horror movies. Usually they were quick and to the point before the couple got interrupted or murdered while fucking. But this seemed to be going on forever, and she was about to make a snide comment about it when she noticed something out of her peripheral.

Bakugou was moving, however miniscule, and how long it had gone unnoticed wasn’t something Koge was sure about. From what she could tell without looking at him directly, he seemed to have his hands up inside the tank top he was wearing, massaging and squeezing his chest. What was more, she could hear his more hitched and deep breathing behind the sounds coming from the TV, truly giving away exactly what he was doing.

Is he seriously touching my body? He really must be horny.

Holding her breath so she could hear him better, Koge clutched on tightly to the bowl of popcorn still sitting on her lap, a heat rising into the tips of her ears. Why would he be doing that with her sitting right here? Could he really just not wait, or was this some kind of signal that he didn’t care about the circumstances and wanted to fuck anyway? There was also the possibility that he was so wasted that he just completely forgot that she was even there.

With a particular loud hitching of his breath, Koge felt an unfamiliar twitch between her legs, becoming quite hyper aware of the pulsing presence pushing up against the bowl. Oooh god, I have a boner! Damn, this is bad!

Adjusting the way she was sitting so that she could put the bowl down, she tried to sit with her legs in different positions, but in the end, she found that any position didn’t hide her affliction. Faster than she could even prepare herself, the cock she had always adored and craved was hard and pressing up uncomfortably against the sweatpants she wore. It was so sensitive, every little twitch to shifting of the fabric against it making her body tingle and crave for contact.

She had always wondered what it felt like to have a boner, but now that she did, she could understand why Bakugou got incredibly frustrated and impatient. The urge to fuck that came with it was familiar to her, but damn was it difficult to not just start stroking it.

“You got a fucking boner, Utsuro?”

Koge nearly jumped out of her skin at Bakugou’s voice, finally finding the courage to look at him. Leaning back and sunk down a bit with feet placed firmly on the floor, Bakugou was still playing with his breasts beneath the tank, the shape and movement of his hands visible beneath the thin fabric. Although Koge wanted to watch, her gaze was locked with his, the heat in her ears spreading across her cheeks to the tip of her nose.

“I… So what if I do?” Koge huffed, once again trying to hide her hips with her arms. “I’m not the one touching myself. Look at you, squeezing your - my - tits like a horny teenager who’s never seen them before. Are you even listening?!”

Bakugou leaned his head back, mouth open in a choked moan and eyes fluttering closed, fingers clearly clamped down tightly around his hard nipples. “Fuck, your tits are so perfect and sensitive. No wonder you scream when I bite them.”

Koge’s stomach began to bubble with nervous arousal, wishing so desperately to scoot over and join him. “What… made you want to start that?”

“I don’t fucking know. I think… that even though I’m in your body… It still naturally reacts to things that would turn you on before, on top of my attraction to your body, I just… Fuck, I just needed to feel something!”

At first, the theory that he proposed seemed reasonable, especially with the way Bakugou’s original body reacted just to hearing the soft and sensual gasps he had been making. Normally, just a sultry little giggle could turn Bakugou on like a furnace and his hands would be latched to her body in seconds. He adored her voice, and she loved his, but it was such a strange sensation to be turned on by her original sounds. Or maybe that wasn’t the case, and this entire theory was just drunken ramblings, his mind trying to come up with anything to rationalize what he was feeling.

A fire rushed down Koge’s spine as Bakugou pushed the tank up over his chest, letting his breasts fall free before he took hold of them again. In the dim blue glow of the TV, Koge could see that his nipples were puffy and dark pink from the abuse, telling her that he was really going strong. The cock between her legs once again twitched impatiently at the sight, strained against the fabric that concealed it. Unsure of what else to do, she cupped it in her hand, trying to hold it in hopes that the touch would at least help a little. All it did was make the blush on her face grow hotter as she could feel it pulsing, only able to imagine the way it always felt so good being shoved down her throat.

“How’s it feel, Utsuro? Huh? To have a dick so hard that you feel crazy, with no pussy or mouth to stick it in.” One of Bakugou’s hands left his breasts, slipping down between his legs to rub his sex on the outside of his underwear. A simple stroke to the unfamiliar and sensitive clit had him trembling, biting lazily at his bottom lip. “Fuck… You have such a slutty body. It’s weird to see it like this… To touch you as you.”

Koge began to palm up and down the length of the cock in her hand, watching him continue to pleasure himself. “You’re the worst, you know that. You go on and on, refusing to even let me kiss you, and now you’re over there touching yourself and saying all that dirty shit.”

“Fuck off. I don’t need you to get off, I can make your body cum myself and be done with it. You can go jack off in the bathroom or right there, I don’t fucking care.” Being familiar with her body and how to touch her, Bakugou’s hand was quick to slip inside his underwear, fingers immediately starting to plunge in and out of him. Though, Koge was immediately able to recognize the slightly confused furrow of his brow as his fingers defaulted back to his clit.

Koge couldn’t get off on just her fingers. At this point in her life, having been with him for so long and growing used to either him getting her off or using toys, there wasn’t ever anything she could do using her own hands or fingers to truly get her off. Sure, it felt good, but very rarely and only in times of true desperation could she get herself to cum. And, if it was her body still getting turned on and not necessarily just his own horny thoughts, Koge knew that her stubborn body would want either thick fingers or a fat cock inside her, and nothing else would suffice.

Knowing this fact could be her chance, Koge shifted herself in just a bit closer, still softly rubbing and teasing her cock through the fabric of her sweats. “What’s wrong, Katsuki? Did you forget a little something about my body? You seem a little surprised.”

“I said fuck off! I can’t do it with you staring at me like that!” Bakugou’s hazy glare was only set on her face for a moment before it fell to her hips, the already fierce blush growing darker. He wiggled, as if his body had begun to ache for the source of pleasure it craved before he had to forcibly tear his eyes away. “I don’t need your help!”

“You do, though, Katsuki.” Moving to sit right up beside him on her knees, Koge placed one hand on his bare thigh, feeling the corners of her lips twitch in excitement as his legs spread further open instinctively. “You’ll never be able to get off on just those little fingers. My body needs more… Why don’t you let me show you?” Moving slowly, Koge’s hand began to travel up towards Bakugou's hips, the urges within her only growing stronger by the feeling of such soft skin against rough and calloused palms. So focused on trying to persuade him, she barely noticed her other hand shifting her sweatpants out of the way, setting her cock free.

Bakugou's eyes were immediately on her hips again, that familiar hint of contemplation in his gaze. “Utsuro, what makes you think I need your help?”

“I know you do. Just look,” It took very little pressure for Koge to slip her hand into Bakugou's underwear, finding no resistance as she replaced his fingers along his soaked cunt. With the first rough roll of her large fingers against his clit, Bakugou’s body immediately reacted just as she expected, giving a light jerk inwards with a moan slipping unrestrained from his lips. Smirk crossing her own, Koge used her memory of what he always did to her, rolling the puffy and sensitive button with hard pressure. “See the difference? See how good it feels…”

Bakugou’s chest began to heave with his breathing, eyes locked on the form of Koge’s hand moving beneath the little lace underwear. “I-it doesn’t feel any different- a-ah, fuck, I said I don’t need you!” One of Bakugou’s legs lifted to unconsciously give Koge more room, his foot slamming firmly onto the table. Taking the hint, Koge slipped her middle and third finger into him, her entire body flushing with a fierce and burning heat at the moan that left his lips. Just watching him come undone so quickly with just the deep and rhythmic movements of her fingers made her want to immediately sink her cock into whatever orifice he’d allow, but she kept control of herself.

“You do need me, Katsuki. Look at you… Just admit that it’s amazing. That it’s exactly what my body wants. I know what my body wants.”

Giving a click of his tongue in between his deep breaths and moans, Bakugou took hold of Koge’s cock with the hand he had been using to pleasure himself, using the slick that still coated his fingers and the dripping precum from her tip to start stroking. “I know, too! You couldn’t handle my body on your own, either!”

Unable to resist the shuddering of her body and the deep groan that left her lips, Koge leaned forward a bit over Bakugou’s body, using her free arm against the back of the couch to hold herself steady. With every tight squeeze against her tip, Koge felt her body become more overwhelmed with the pleasure and desires for more, her hips lightly bucking up into his touch. Although it felt amazing, her eyes wandering his body and head filled with the sounds of his moans only pushed her buttons further. She needed more. This wasn’t going to be enough.

Though, before Koge could even make another move, Bakugou cursed out loudly, putting both hands onto her chest and pushing her back roughly to force her to down onto her back. “Fuck this! Lay your stupid ass down! I’m going to take care of this, now!”

“W-what? Wait, Katsuki-!”

Not even giving Koge a moment to fix her position, Bakugou climbed up on top of her all while stripping off his underwear, straddling her hips. “No more waiting! I swore I wasn’t going to do this shit, but your fucking body is so slutty it can’t survive not having my cock inside it. You damn fucking whore.” Bakugou took hold of Koge’s face roughly, his drunken and horny rage making him very uncoordinated and rough, though Koge wasn’t going to complain, as the feeling of his nails in her skin made her cock ache and twitch impatiently. “You’re a whore, aren’t you? You’re my little cock hungry slut.”

“Y-yes, Katsuki-” Koge bit down onto her bottom lip as Bakugou sat firmly down onto her hips, her cock squished between her abdomen and Bakugou’s dripping cunt. With a slow rolling of his hips, Bakugou began to grind his clit along her, from the base to the tip. “Fuck-!”

“What’s that?” A wicked smirk crossed Bakugou’s lips, putting more pressure with each grind of his hips. “What’s wrong, Utsuro?”

“I-” A hiss left her lips as Bakugou released her face, both of his hands resting against her stomach with nails digging into her skin. In response, Koge gripped onto his hips tightly, wishing so desperately to just shove herself inside him. “Stop teasing!”

“You say that, but my body fucking loves it, right? Isn’t that what you’ve been going on about? And yours… fuck!” Losing his composure, Bakugou made rough and small movements right against the tip of Koge’s cock, using the ridges along the underside to pleasure himself. “Yours is on fire! This damn… fucking slutty body of yours… Only one way to deal with it-!”

Finally lifting his hips, Bakugou wasted no time in beginning to lower himself down onto Koge’s cock, but he barely got past the tip before he had to pause. Koge might have had a bit to do with that, as the initial squeezing against her tip and the heat felt as if she might lose control of herself that instant. So, she kept a tight grip on his hips, using her strength to keep him from moving another inch as she let herself grow used to the unfamiliar pleasures.

“Bitching out already, Utsuro?”

Breathing heavily, Koge glared up at Bakugou, who’s smug smirk made her immediately quite flustered. “Shut up, Katsuki. You don’t even know what’s about to come.”

“Don’t be so fucking cocky-”

Koge didn’t allow him to even catch a breath before she pulled his hips down with a thrust of her own hips upward, bringing his hips down flush against hers to bury her cock completely inside him. All the air knocked out of his lungs, Bakugou barely even got a squeak out, nearly collapsing forward onto Koge’s chest. Eyes wide and mouth agape with shock, Bakugou’s began to tremble, struggling to take in a breath or get out a single word. Koge, however, couldn’t stand waiting a single second longer, the feeling of being so deep inside him already driving her crazy. “A-ah, Katsuki! It’s so hot!”

“D-don’t, don’t-!”

Bakugou’s voice was a choked whisper as Koge began to thrust upwards into him, overpowering him to keep control so he couldn’t move away. Although he was being defiant, Bakugou couldn’t stop the moans that spilled from his lips, completely overwhelmed with the pleasure. Koge was the same, the feeling of being squeezed like this with each thrust so blissful that she already felt the urge to cum. But, within a few moments, Bakugou gathered himself, giving a frustrated yell as one of his hands came to rest roughly and firmly on Koge’s face, two of his fingers plunging into her mouth to get her attention.

“I said don’t!” With the momentary confusion, Bakugou began to take over the pace, bouncing his body. “I said I was going to take care of this! Don’t fuck me unless I say so!”

“W-what are you saying?” Koge’s ability to speak was inhibited by his fingers, but she was too overcome with wave after wave of pleasure to care. “I am fucking you! Ack, don’t-!” Koge pulled his hand away from her mouth. “Your body has a weak gag reflex! You can’t stick your fingers down my throat right now, I’ll puke!”

“No shit! I don’t suck cock like you do every day! Fuck, it’s already in there so fucking deep, how can your body want more?!”

“A-ah, mm- wait! Wait, Katsuki!” Koge felt completely helpless as Bakugou rode her with vigor, bouncing his body rougher and more eager than Koge could ever remember doing herself. He was completely smitten, the pleasure only intoxicating him further until he wasn’t holding himself back. “I-I’m not sure I can hold out! How do you hold it in?!”

“Shut the fuck up and clench your balls, Utsuro!”

“That isn’t how it works!”

“I don’t fucking know, I can’t think! Distract yourself-!” A squeak left his lips as Koge snatched onto the tank he still wore, yanking him down and pulling him into a kiss to do just that. Bakugou was quick to reciprocate, only having to pause his hips for a moment before he began to pick back up the pace, moaning and gasping into the kiss as both of his hands buried into Koge’s hair. His nails in her scalp and how eager he was didn’t help Koge’s condition at all, and just hearing the way his voice hitched in that familiar sign of getting close to his peak made her body tense in frustration.

Wrapping her arms around his waist, Koge once again began thrusting upwards into him, matching his pace and rhythm. Bakugou’s voice immediately spiked, his head resting into Koge’s shoulder, though he didn’t do anything to stop her. “Utsuro! I said… I-... I said don’t!”

“Shut up, Katsuki! Just let me do it! It’s obvious you’re enjoying getting fucked by your own cock, so take it!”

“I’m not! I’m not- it’s your fucking slutty body! It has nothing to do with me! Oh shit, that spot there! There- fuck!”

“A-ah, Katsuki, don’t squeeze, I can’t-!”

From that moment on, there was nothing Koge could do to restrain herself. His moans, the slapping of skin and the feeling of his walls constricting around her like a vice pushed her over the edge, a burst of pleasure rocketing from the pressure within her hips. It was unlike anything she was used to feeling, the singular powerful pop of pleasure bringing her body nearly to a complete halt, gasping and groaning into Bakugou’s hair as her hips bucked up hard and deep into him.

With the last twinge of pleasure, it felt as if all the energy had been sucked out of her body, falling limp as she struggled to catch her breath. “Damn… That’s… Nothing like normal. Not as strong as what I’m used to either but- OUCH!” Koge winced as there was a sudden harsh yank to her hair, peering up at Bakugou through one clenched eye as he sat up, though the dark look on his face immediately made Koge’s stomach churn nervously. “Oh no-”

“I didn’t cum yet, Utsuro.” Bakugou’s glare was dark, as if he were about to go on a murderous rampage. “You fucking scum.”

“K-Katsuki, wait, I couldn’t help it!” Koge nervously grabbed onto Bakugou’s sides, unsure of what was about to happen. Of course, she knew exactly how he was feeling, and how badly she probably just edged him would have been unbearable. “I’m sorry! Let me, uh… Just let me get hard again, I can finish you off!” Suddenly, there was a hitch of Bakugou’s breath, his eyes growing teary and face flushing from ear to ear. Now, Bakugou was truly going through the torment of edging and dissatisfaction that Koge had to suffer through on a daily basis because of him and his teasing, and even if he had a strong consciousness, the intoxication and feeling of his new body wasn’t going to let him have all the control.

“Bullshit! You bitch! I was so close!”

“Oh what, does it hurt? See what I suffer through, Katsuki?! Maybe now you’ll never edge me again!”

“Oh, oh no.” Bakugou’s frustration morphed into true malicious intent, his mouth quivering as a smirk stretched across his lips. “You torture me? I’m about to make sure you go through hell until I’m satisfied.”

“What? You can’t torture your own body, Katsuki-- Ah! Wait, no, don’t sit on my face, I- mmph!”

“I’m not in my body right now, Utsuro. I’ll do whatever I want to you until you’re fucking begging for me to stop. Now drink up, I’m sure you’re thirsty after that huge fucking load. And look, you are already hard again. No matter what body you’re in, you’re nothing but a slut… and I’m going to treat you like one.”

Tag: @gallickingun

#bnhabookclub #katsuki bakugou #bakugou #bakugou x oc #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #bnha fanfiction #bnha scenarios #bnha imagines #bnha oc #oc #original character #bakugou x koge #koge #bingo #cutesuki-oc #cutesuki-lemons

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dazed--xx · 4 years

Text

Alone

REQUEST: *Hi see you mentioned about story requests. I'm having a hard time since I'm currently pregnant and my partner walked out on me, so could you do one when Jungkook where I meet Jungkook and he helps me raise the baby please*

Summary: “I'm pregnant Jungkook.” the line goes dead silent “look before you say anything, no I wasn’t hiding this from you and I completely understand if you don’t want to talk to me shit I wouldn’t want to talk to me and move on to someone who is not pregnant and going to be having this type of responsibilities-” “Y/N-”

GENRE: Mild-Angst, Fluff

Member: Jungkook x Pregnant!reader

Word count: 2,132

A/N: so this is literally my first fanfic ever and i hope you guys like it. and to the person that requested this I wanted to tag you because i did post it but i didnt want to kind of call you out online especially since this was based on something you have personally happening to you, trust me pregnancy is scary let alone having to go it alone so if you need someone to talk to im here btw.. but hopefully you guys like this it was pretty good i wanna post a couple of requests a day since i banged this out as quickly as i did im taking more requests just inbox me or go to my ask let me know if you want your name attached to the request and i will send everyone that i know requested a specific story i will tag and send it to you so you know it is done but without further ado ALONE

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“Where are you going? Do you really expect me to do this alone?” I shouted to the already abandoned house. A swell in my throat rises and I can't breathe. My body shakes as the tears take over. I fall to my knees running my hand over my stomach. “Don’t you worry baby; Daddy will be back he loves you I promise” I say to the life growing within my womb.

The warmth from the comforter consumes me as I awaken with dried tears in my eyes. My heart aches as I remember the events from the past 12 hours. The thick silence takes hold of my heart and it begins racing. My heart beat sounding as if it is being played on a speaker the size of a skyscraper. Feeling the bile rise in my throat, rushing to the bathroom, I empty out the contents of my stomach. Tears escape my eyes as I reach out to the void. I'm alone truly.

My first OBGYN appointment rolls around and my heart is in my stomach. The nurse escorts me in, slowly my feet turn into lead as I drag myself onto the cot in the room and lay back facing the monitor. Once I feel that cool gel upon my stomach, my heart settles and the most beautiful BUMP BUMP BUMP is heard throughout the room. My eyes focus on the image in front of me. “well congrats sweetie you're about 10 weeks, Due September 27. Remember no stress and make sure to take your prenatal. We’ll see you next week” My ultrasound technician announces excitedly. I smile anxious as to what I should do next.

I make my way to a small café after my appointment wanting a small tea to calm my nerves. Looking around the coffee shop I notice quite the crowd and my panic begins to set in. It feels like I can't breathe while the crowds begin to grow as the café reaches the brink of rush. More and More people pour through the door as my anxiety takes over and I feel the bile rising again, I abandon my spot in line trying to make it to the restroom before I release the contents of my stomach all over the café floor. The restroom door becomes the only thing in sight to me as I dash for it. I reach for the handle and the door opens and I slam into a hard chest and soon I am on the floor.

“HOLY CRAP!!! IM SO SORRY I WAS NOT PAYING ATTENTION” A angelic voice apologized above me. My eyes drift from the floor up to see the most amazing man I've ever seen in my life with his hand out and my voice gets caught in my throat. I stare at him for a while capturing every detail of his face and take his hand. I nod quickly and mutter a fast “Sorry” and dash around the beautiful man and lose myself behind the safety of the door. I was dreading walking back out into the craziness of the café, but excited to see if I could once again get a glimpse of the gorgeous man from before.

Soon I am back in line and order my tea, when a familiar voice sounds from next to me “You know.... you should let me pay you back for your drink you know...since I hurt you” Shocked I turn my head to see the same beautiful man from before. “Oh, please don’t worry about it I really wasn’t paying attention either it's not a big deal” I smile shyly. “Besides I'm sure you have better things to do with your time than to buy a stranger a drink” He laughs “Honestly, Beautiful, I don’t really have anything to do with my time that doesn’t involve getting to know you” Heat creeps up to my face and I lower my gaze and smile. “I don’t need you to pay me back for my tea for you to be able to get to know me, but unfortunately I gotta go” I say slowly moving past him. “At least let me get your number...please” He asked “You don’t even know my name and you want my number?” “Hey I know what I want and I feel like me knowing your name won't matter much cause I probably won't be calling you anything other than mine” I let out a small giggle “ that was super corny but since you're trying so hard give me your phone” I put my number in his phone and hand it back to him and walk toward the door “By the way my name is Y/N” as I make my exit I hear him shout back “Jungkook!”

As the weeks pass, I find myself talking more and more to Jungkook. He still hasn’t stopped flirted with me as much as he did that day in the café but we talk everyday about almost everything and I can't help but feel scared to tell him I am having a baby. What would he say? Will he not want to talk to me anymore? Would he not like me as much? A loud RING pulls me out of my thoughts as my phone lights up with Jungkook's name and photo comes up on my screen.

“Hey, what's up cutie?” He says excitedly

“Not much, just lying in bed not feeling too good today” I respond pouty

“Aw, do you need anything? Medicine? I can bring you soup it'll make you feel better I know you said you went out with your friend last night are you hungover?” The worry evident in his voice.

“Um honestly no um I can't drink so I'm definitely not hungover just different I know what it is though I'll be fine” the nervousness in my voice is evident

“what's wrong then beautiful? Is everything okay?” Oh no... not that question. He’s worried and I know he is but I don’t know what to say. I can't stop it the words just rush out of my mouth like the bile I throw up every morning

“I'm pregnant Jungkook....I'm 14 weeks pregnant” the line goes dead silent “look before you say anything, no I wasn’t hiding this from you and I completely understand if you don’t want to talk to me shit I wouldn’t want to talk to me and move on to someone who is not pregnant and going to be having this type of responsibilities-” “Y/N-” No listen Kookie cause I really like you and I didn’t mean to keep this from you I was just scared that you would hate me” “Y/N-” “I mean I know you just met me a couple weeks ago and it wouldn’t mean much for you to just walk away from this because let's be honest who wants to deal with that-” “Y/N! JUST STOP AND LISTEN PLEASE!” The words stop flowing as quickly as they began.

“Do you think id stop liking you because of the simple fact that you're pregnant, I mean yeah it does suck that you're going to have someone else's baby but I don’t care about that... WAIT! Is that why your ex left?” I stay silent

“Baby....are you there?” He asks worried.

“Baby girl???”

“Beautiful are you okay? Hello?”

I sniffle “Yeah I’m here sorry” my voice cracks at every word.

“Baby are you crying? Do you need me to get you anything?”

“No, I'm fine I promise I'm going to go to bed okay? Goodnight handsome I'll talk to you in the morning” “wait what no I'm com-” I cut him off to end the already overwhelming call. My vision blurs as the tears cascade down my face and I let out a harsh sob. I was scared for nothing or he's just too optimistic. A loud knock on the door grabs my attention.

“who is it?” fear leaking out in my tone. “Baby it's me open up” I hear Jungkook's melodic voice through the door. Quickly I swing the door open to be greeted with the man I've grown so accustomed to in the past few weeks. Taking in the sight of him my heart begins to race as the tears began to no longer form. He reaches his arms around me and pulls me against him. “Baby girl, why didn’t you tell me sooner? You really thought that would make me just leave. How could I do that when in the past few weeks, you’ve stolen my heart” He looks at me and there's a hunger in his eyes as they shift down to my lips. “aww fuck it” he exclaims as his lips capture mine. His arms wrap around my waits as my hands get lost in his soft midnight hair. After a while he pulls away and a small whimper is released from my mouth. “Do you know HOW long I've wanted to do that” he exclaims excitedly with a smile plastered across his face.

After that night Jungkook never left my side, everything I craved he got, Anytime I felt nauseous Jungkook was there. It became routine with him his calls became more frequent on days he knew I had appointments and he went to every ultrasound. His excitement for my baby was shown one day when I came home from work and my whole apartment was filled top to bottom with diapers bottles and wipes. Jungkook was still too nervous to buy much because he felt he was taking part of the experience from me and the fact that we still don’t know what the baby is yet. As the date rolls around to the appointment it's all Jungkook can talk about. He wants a girl every five seconds he reminds me it's always “Baby do you think the princess will like me? I mean I want her to know I care and that I love you” which is why he was so heartbroken when he could not make it to the gender reveal appointment because of a last-minute practice session. “Please promise to call me right after you find out okay baby?” He begs sadly before he left for the morning.

After the appointment my heart swelled with joy as I turned into my driveway to see Jungkook's car sitting there. As soon as I unlocked the door, I felt a pair of strong arms wrap around my waist and feel kisses peppered up my neck “Hey, Baby how did your appointment go? How are you feeling?” he says in-between kisses. A blush creeps up onto my face “Yeah, it went great baby is a growing good and healthy, so I have to tell you something” I state biting my bottom lip and looking toward the ground.

“Oh god what's wrong? Is our princess okay?” his use of the word our makes my heart skip a beat “OUR? And the baby is fine....” I look at him pointedly and his hand runs through his hair as his face turns beet red as he slowly stutters out “I mean....um... I'm sorry I didn’t mean to just assume that you wanted me involved but it's so hard not to be when I'm so in love with you that I don’t care if I wasn’t the one that got you pregnant that’s my baby and you’re my girl so yeah our.... so, what is you have to tell me?” I kiss him softly at his words. I beam at him “You're literally so amazing I can't believe you would even consider any of this I know it's a lot to ask for someone to be involved with someone who is pregnant and all I appreciate it baby BUT unfortunately it's not a princess we got blessed with, handsome” as I put his hand on my stomach and his face twists into confusion “what do you-WAIT! IT’S A BOY? FORREAL? IT’S A BOY?” the smile cannot be contained on his face as he comes to the realization.

"Yes, it’s a boy” I state as Jungkook lifts and twirls me around I laugh.

Jungkook happily exclaims “Oh my god, I'm gonna have a son.” Jungkook drops to his knees and places his hand on my stomach and softly speaks “Hey handsome, its daddy, no I'm not your real daddy baby but I'm going to love you and your mommy like I am. I can't imagine a world without you I can't wait to meet you”

I stand there smiling knowing.......Jungkook won’t ever leave me alone

#bts imagines #btsjungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts angst #bts fluff #bts request #bts x reader

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