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lucyintheskywithxanax · 3 years

Text

Baby Broke Down In My Bed Again

Pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Fem Reader

A/N: this came to be because 1. I wanted to try and write a more sanguine, less patient reader 2. @minaslittleone do you remember a long time ago when we agreed that someone with as much self-hatred as Wilhemina probably had moments when sex wasn’t bearable, or something like that? Well, I decided to write a fic about it. Reader x W’s relationship has been going on for quite a while in this one, because I wanted a less guarded, more trusting and forgiving Wilhemina.

Word count: ≈ 8 700

You collapsed on the bed with a groan and let your body sink into the mattress. It had been such a long, boring and yet incredibly busy day, that had made you feel way older than your years. All you wanted now was to forget about it entirely and let warmth and content take over.

Wilhemina was tucked in on her side of the bed, reading a book. She had been particularly quiet this evening, seemingly lost in her head, had played with her food and answered your questions with short, annoyed sentences. You had let her be, given her space, regularly glancing at her for any sign of pain, but her back didn’t seem to be the trouble. She had helped you clear the table, and the soft brush of her hand against your arm had felt like a silent apology.

Now you snuggled up to her side, curling your body to fill all the gaps between you and her, and planting soft kisses on the bare skin between her collarbones.

“What are you reading?” you whispered, draping one arm over her stomach to pull her closer.

“Still the same book,” she answered, rather curtly.

You peered up at her, planted more kisses along her collarbone, then buried your face in her neck. Your eyes fluttered closed. She was so warm, so incredibly soft and safe, your safe place; you felt the tension slowly leave your body, and be replaced with sweet, happy content that nestled cozily in your stomach.

Home. In the past year you and her had built your home together. You had painted your walls in her colors and she had filled her rooms with your laughter. By now you knew by heart which parts of her floor creaked when you put your foot on it, which parts of her body to press your fingers on to make her moan.

“Will you read to me?” you whispered against her skin.

It came out too muffled for her to understand. She made a questioning noise, but it bore so much annoyance you decided against repeating your question. Instead, you slipped your fingers under her night shirt and started stroking slow circles on her stomach, the softness of her skin sparking a low fire where there had been only warmth.

You snuggled closer to her still, nudging her neck with your nose and breathing her in. She was intoxicating, you thought, as you planted soft, lazy kisses that lingered longer on her skin as your brain slowly awoke to a growing need, so ridiculously intoxicating; you pushed yourself up on one elbow for better access as you trailed kisses up her neck, your other hand sliding up to caress the swell of her right breast.

Wilhemina set her book aside, which made you smirk victoriously. You sucked on the skin over her pulse point just as she lay one hand on your shoulder, and was about to flick your thumb over her nipple when she gently pushed you away.

There was surprise in your eyes when you met hers. Wilhemina was so incredibly hungry for affection she rarely rejected it when you so eagerly offered it to her.

You scanned her face, your breathing quick and expectant.

Wilhemina held your gaze and shook her head. “Not tonight, Y/N.”

She didn’t look annoyed anymore, just sad. It was this sadness that silenced the protestations tingling on your tongue.

You swallowed down disappointment and planted one last kiss on her collarbone before lying down again, with your face mere inches from her shoulder. You closed your eyes, forced yourself to take a few deep breaths till the heat in your head and in-between your legs was back under control.

“Are you okay?” you whispered.

“Of course I am,” she retorted, but the tone of her voice betrayed her.

Her voice was always softer in the evening. There was a warm fondness to it that let giggles and chuckles and secrets go through almost unimpeded. Four months or so into your relationship, she had allowed herself to take off parts of her armor and hang them next to her coat after she had closed the front door to her place or yours. Weapons were set on the floor, and the weight of them replaced with the weight of your body on top of hers.

But tonight, she was using the voice which to your ears sounded like the low, threatening growl of faraway thunder. Meant to warn, to intimidate, to make you duck your head and run away.

For a few minutes you lay in silence, watching her.

“Do you want to keep on reading?” you asked eventually.

“No.”

“Should we turn off the light, then?”

“Don’t you need to get off first?”

The spite and harshness of her voice had you reeling for a second. You pretended it didn’t hurt.

“Excuse me?”

Wilhemina’s eyes met yours, dark and glazed. “Don’t you need to get off first?”

This time, her voice wasn’t spiteful but mocking, condescending. That made it even worse.

“No,” you answered, gaze boring into hers, “I don’t need to get off first.” You paused. “Did something happen today?”

“Nothing happened today,” Wilhemina snapped.

You swallowed back anger, forced your voice to stay calm. “Then what is it?”

“What is what?”

“Why are you being like this?”

“Like what?”

With a groan you closed your eyes and rolled away from her, reaching out to turn off the bedside lamp.

The darkness only increased your anger. You lay fuming with your back to her, curled in on yourself and cursing that brain of hers that was so ridiculously stubborn and scared and hurt. There was no talking to her when she was behaving like this and yet it was killing you, not knowing how to help her even after a whole year of loving her.

And what troubled you was, she had opened up to you before. Not enough times that you couldn’t count them on the fingers of one hand, but still. And you couldn’t begin to understand why tonight she had decided to shut you out.

You heard her shift behind you. Before you knew what you were doing, you were turning on the light again and sitting up.

“Talk to me,” you said – maybe a bit too harshly, but you couldn’t do better.

Wilhemina slowly opened her eyes to meet your gaze.

“I have nothing to tell you,” she said slowly and quietly, “except that if you need to get off, the bathroom –”

“What happened today?” you cut her off.

Wilhemina’s face hardened. “I told you before,” - voice slower still, and mocking, mocking so cruelly as if she were talking to a moron -, “nothing happened today.”

“I’m not turning off the light until you’ve talked to me.”

She smirked. “Suit yourself. I can sleep just fine with the light on.” And with that, she closed her eyes.

You huffed, staring down at her disbelievingly. For a minute you waited, refusing to believe she was going to end the conversation like this. But she didn’t move, didn’t make a noise. You watched the slow, regular rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, almost mesmerized, then groaned.

Hot-tempered, your parents had always called you. You knew they were right, and you had been successfully working on it. But tonight, something in you snapped.

You had been so patient with Wilhemina. Taken one step forward, two backwards. Braved the storm, kneeled down and extended one hand toward the terrified and the abandoned shivering in the rain. But tonight, you let the anger win.

So, with your heart pumping fire instead of blood and its smoke filling your head, you lay down on your back, spread your legs open and touched yourself.

And you started to moan. Loud, exaggerated moans, and you made a show of moving your hips so hard the bed creaked.

“Fuck,” you cried, moving your wrist in fast circles that brought you no pleasure at all, “hmm,” biting your lower lip and closing your eyes; you slipped your hand lower down, and forced a finger inside. “Fuck,” you screamed, “I haven’t been fucked so good in months!”

Stop it, a voice pleaded somewhere deep inside your head. You ignored it. You bucked your hips against your hand, slid your other hand up your body to tease your nipple. As you forced another exaggerated moan out of your mouth, you increased the pace between your legs, anger making you desperate for release and increasing with every second you were denied it.

You pushed another finger inside, wincing at the pain, and rubbed harder at your clit, demanding pleasure. You tensed your muscles to help your body reach its climax; and then, finally, finally, felt pleasure build and build and sweep over you. As your body gave a few weak shakes you remembered to arch your back and to cry out, “Yes! God! I haven’t felt so good in so long!”

With a dramatic sigh you let your body fall back on the mattress and brought one hand up to your forehead. There was a drumming in your ears, and something unpleasant that nudged in your chest. You closed your eyes, feigning exhaustion, forcing your chest to heave, and waited a few seconds before you stole a glance at Wilhemina.

She hadn’t made a single noise, nor moved an inch, during your little show. She was still lying on her back, barely breathing, eyes wide open and unblinking. The only thing that proved she was still alive was the tension in her shoulders and the tightness in her jaw.

In the following silence, the smoke in your head cleared. The drumming in your ears slowed down, the tingling between your legs disappeared; but the thing in your chest grew. It grew and crushed your heart till it became hard to breathe.

You were about to say Wilhemina’s name when she slowly sat up in bed. She paused, her back to you, and reached out for her cane. Her hand was shaking.

You closed your eyes and listened to her footsteps as she fumbled about the room for a while, dropped something, picked it up; walked out. Her footsteps receded down the corridor; heels; and then, you heard the front door close.

Your flat was empty and silent when you got up at dawn the next morning. For a long moment you stood still in the middle of the room, not looking at anything in particular, dread gnawing at your insides.

You weren’t sure you could remember what had happened the night before. The pictures were too blurry. There were memories, but could they be real? You didn’t want them to be. Everything you could remember had anger and cruelty woven into it, things that had ugly faces and smiled ugly, selfish smiles.

The side of your bed where Wilhemina usually slept was unmade. You picked up her pillow, pressed it to your nose and breathed in her scent. Then you walked into your bathroom and saw with relief that her things were still there, the toothbrush and makeup products she always left at your place and whose sight you cherished every morning more than you cherished that of the rising sun.

You turned, walked into your living room. Her coat was gone, so were her shoes. There was no note on the table. In the sink still lay the two mugs you had been too lazy to wash the evening before.

On the verge of panic you picked up your phone and dialed Mutt’s number. He was a friend of a friend, and it had been thanks to him that you had first met Wilhemina all those years ago. Mutt’s idiocy and complete lack of maturity had, strangely, grown on you. You two sometimes spent drunken evenings together, watching movies and screaming at the screen every time something happened that was scientifically impossible. In the company of Mutt it was easy to be stupid, and gross, and mean. So, you thought, as you listened to the ringing tone, Mutt was the kind of person you needed right now: someone to confess your sin to without fear of being judged, for without a doubt he had, at one point in his life, done worse; someone that would give you such ridiculously bad advice you could, if you were lucky, withdraw a few crumbs of wisdom from the madness.

“The fuck, asshole,” Mutt barked into the phone, “have you seen the time?”

You closed your eyes, wincing. You could almost smell the alcohol in his voice. “Sorry, Mutt. I really need to talk to you.”

Mutt yawned, groaned, fell silent. All you could hear was the quick beating of your heart. The clamminess of your hand made the phone slippery, and your eyes were starting to sting.

“I, um,” you started. Took a breath, released it shakily. “So, possibly, I fucked up.”

There was a noise like another distorted yawn. “Babe, why am I not surprised.”

“Did something happen at work yesterday?” you asked.

“Yeah, Lily spilled her Starbucks on Jeff’s laptop and it made all the arms go ballistic –”

“I mean,” you cut him off, sniffling, “I mean with Wilhemina.”

Silence. A noise, as if Mutt was moving.

“Mutt?”

“Gimme a sec, I’m thinking. No, nothing that I can remember. Hey, did you know that –”

“Are you sure, Mutt?” you insisted. You felt the hot, wet lick of a tear as it trailed down your cheek. “Nothing that someone said that made her snap? Are you sure nothing –”

“She snaps at everyone 24/7, how am I supposed to know,” Mutt grumbled.

“I fucked up,” you sobbed into the receiver. Your body bent forward with the force of the guilt that finally washed over you. “Mutt,” you whined, “when she comes to work, could you tell her to call me?”

“You’re scaring me, Y/N,” Mutt said.

“Tell her to call me. Lock her up in her office or something until she agrees, Mutt, please. I can’t lose her.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/N, and it’s too early for this shit. But yes, yes, ok, I will. Not the lock her up thing. I don’t want to be caned.” There was a pause, as you sniffed and sobbed, not even caring to wipe your cheeks and nose, then Mutt added tentatively: “There’s a football game tonight if you want to come over and watch it with me. Don’t call, just barge in. Goodnight.” And with that he hung up.

You called in sick at work. You spent the day pacing up and down in your flat, occasionally throwing yourself on your bed or couch to sob.

Your phone never rang. Not that y ou really expected it to. But still – you had hope.

When the hands on your clock announced 3pm, you decided you couldn’t wait anymore, and drove to Kineros. You parked your car on the sidewalk. Somehow you managed to reach Mutt and Jeff’s office before security caught up with you. They narrowed their eyes at you, but sent the security guard off.

“When I said barge in,” Mutt started, “I meant my place.”

“I’m here to see Wilhemina,” you panted. “Is she in her office?”

“Yeah, but she warned her assistant not to let anyone bother her and I think –”

“I won’t be long,” you cut him off, rushing out of the room. One second later you were back. “Show me the way?”

Wilhemina didn’t look up as Mutt and you walked down the long corridor that led to her office. You scanned her figure worriedly, noting the vacant look in her eyes, the tension in her shoulders and the tight line that was her mouth as she typed quickly on her laptop.

“Babe,” Mutt started, “there’s –”

Wilhemina cut him off, slowly raising her head. “Do not let yourself think for a second that just because you –”

Her eyes fell on you.

Slowly, her mouth closed. You almost stopped in your tracks at the rage that ignited in her eyes.

“I’ll let you two lovebirds deal with your things, then,” Mutt said with a nervous laugh, before turning on his heels. You barely registered his departure.

For a few, long, painful seconds, you stood frozen in front of Wilhemina’s desk, your hands clutching the hem of your shirt, holding Wilhemina’s burning gaze and your whole body vibrating with love and fear and regret; and then, something in your chest burst, and you lurched forward.

“Mina I –”

“I told Lily to wait for you in the room next door,” she cut you off, voice low and so terribly slow.

You blinked. “Who’s Lily?”

“Mutt and Jeff’s favorite pleasure giver. Just the kind of human scum you need, as you made very clear last night.”

“You pushed me to it,” you mumbled half-heartedly.

Unfortunately, Wilhemina heard you.

Slowly, performing the precise balance exercise she had rehearsed thousands of times before, she stood up.

“Because you refused to speak to me,” you were quick to add. “You’re a human being, Mina, not an oyster –”

“You’re so fucking eloquent,” Wilhemina taunted. “If only you could control your emotions as well as you can express yourself.”

You took yet another step forward, your stomach pressing against the edge of her desk, as you felt the familiar hot tingle which meant anger had fought its way through the crowd of all the other emotions battling inside you, and had now reached the stage.

“If only you could actually express yourself,” you spat back, refusing to lower or avert your eyes no matter how painful it was becoming to hold her gaze. It was too intense, too furious and too dark. “Why are you doing this? Why are you shutting me out all of a sudden? I feel like we’re back on day one.” You leaned towards her in exasperation – and in hope, that maybe you could still reach her. Your eyes widened in a plea, your hands closed around the edge of her desk. “What’s going on? I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

Wilhemina’s face closed up even more at your words. The anger in her eyes disappeared under a thick veil.

“I don’t need your help,” she said, still as terribly, terribly slowly.

“I’ll go find Lily, then,” you fumed.

“You do that.”

Wilhemina’s eyes still expressed nothing at all, and it broke your heart, for that nothing wasn’t here to hide her anger. She had no problem letting anger show. That nothing was here to hide how badly she was hurting.

It made you want to break something. Anything, but mostly the walls around her heart. To hit your fists against them and to tear them down brick by brick and to crash your way into her.

And above all the rest rose a sense of helplessness, for you had no idea how to fix this. You had shot a perfect shot, hit the center of the target, the arrow’s head tearing through the heart. And as the hunter bends over their kill, you held Wilhemina’s blank, glazed eyes, and caught a glimpse of the damage you had done.

And then, a wave of revolt. For she had hurt you, too. Had refused to let you in and spat bitter words at you.

There were just too many things happening inside of you, too big a crowd of emotions. You were boiling and you didn’t know how to cool down.

You turned on your heel and were about to storm off when the crowd suddenly held its breath. Anger had bent down and helped frustration up onto the stage.

You turned around, fists clenched and eyes stinging. “I’m sure Lily will tell me more about herself in five minutes than you ever will in five years!” you burst out.

“Then why are you still here?” Wilhemina growled lowly. “Or are you too stupid to understand how one walks? One foot aft-”

“Because I love you!” you burst out. “This past year with you has been the best in my whole goddamn life and it kills me, that you won’t let me in.” You shook your head, briefly closing your eyes against the emotion that you could feel bubbling out of you. “I want to love you but you won’t let me,” you whined.

Wilhemina didn’t reply. She turned a shade pinker, but her lips stayed tightly shut and her eyes stayed veiled as she processed your words. When finally she spoke, her voice was laced with bitterness.

“You seem to think of yourself as the victim,” she said slowly, and a flicker of anger made its way out and shone in her eyes. ”I don’t know much about being loved,” spitting out the words as if they could kill her, “but I’m pretty sure it’s not supposed to hurt like this.”

At first you thought the words had slipped unbidden from her lips. It still surprised you when she would confess to being in pain, physically or mentally. Of course there were signs you had learnt to recognise, a clenched jaw, glazed eyes, wanton snapping, but Wilhemina rarely gave her pain a voice. Pain was shameful. It had to be ignored and never, never to be processed.

But then, as you watched her, stunned, and her body hunched up as if she wished she could disappear, and her eyes turned vulnerable, the certainty settled inside you, painful but incredibly warm. It hadn’t been an accidental push, but a voluntary jump.

There was no uprising. Anger, frustration, the stage, suddenly vanished.

Without thinking you stepped around her desk, but stopped when Wilhemina took several steps backward.

Her name left your mouth in a broken plea, but she shook her head and then all of a sudden her façade shattered.

The quiver in her voice when she spoke next made your heart ache.

“I know I cannot ask for much but I thought – I thought in a relationship at least the most basic respect –”

She trailed off, jaw and mouth still working to form words her voice refused to carry.

You shook your head, blinking back tears. All the fight in you had disappeared; all that was left was a terrible sense of dread and guilt.

“No no no, Mina I… sweetheart of course you can ask for everything, I…”

Tentatively you took a step forward. This time, Wilhemina didn’t move. She was peering at you, chin uncharacteristically tilted downward, eyes getting shinier by the second.

You held up both hands in front of you.

“I didn’t mean it,” you heard yourself say. “You’re not inadequate, I – I didn’t mean any of it, Mina. Look at me,” you added forcefully, as her eyes moved to some random thing over your shoulder and threatened to glaze over again. “I swear I didn’t mean it. I got mad, and I fucked up, and I’m so, so sorry.”

Certainly your last few words were what Wilhemina had been dying to hear, for her shoulders suddenly slumped. Tears pooled in her eyes that she harshly wiped away before they had time to stain, and she let out a long, trembling sigh that seemed to take her strength away with it.

A strangled, mirthless laugh burst from your lips. Your arms fell limply to your sides.

You were too scared to even dare breathe properly. Scared that Wilhemina would order you away and refuse to ever see you again, or, more likely, that she would shut you out and retreat behind her walls, pretend she was alright, that nothing had happened and that she hadn’t even felt the prickle of the needle. But her face stayed open, her eyes vulnerable as she wiped at them repeatedly in an attempt to maintain her composure.

“Will you, uh.” You shifted your weight on your feet, unable to stay still for the sight of her so unguarded made you desperate to reach out and hug her. Gather up the pieces and glue them back together. “Will you let me pick you up from work tonight? I can drive you back to your place, and we can, if you want, talk.” Your chest hurt. You leaned towards her, your voice breaking on a sob. “I can make it right, Mina, I know I can. Please let me in – I’m so sorry.”

Wilhemina bit down on her lower lip to stop it from quivering. She nodded, and when her hand came up again to wipe her eyes, tears rolled between her fingers and down her cheeks.

Without thinking you extended your hand towards her, and briefly brushed her wrist with your fingertips.

“Okay,” she breathed, nodding, fingers still swiping at her face.

You peered up at her hopefully. “Okay?”

She nodded.

“Okay,” you laughed, so incredibly relieved you felt like bursting into tears.

A laugh left Wilhemina’s lips, too, sad and half-strangled. She moved her arm until it met your hand. Your fingers automatically wrapped around her wrist, thumb gently stroking her skin as she swiped at her eyes.

She looked smaller, and so much younger, a little girl who felt too much and had been unwillingly shoved into an adult’s body. You wondered if this was her with her soul stripped completely naked.

You had expected high walls built higher and stronger, defensive armies gone mad with wrath at the blow you had dealt - not an open gate. What had you done to deserve it? This was so unhoped for, so dearly cherished, whatever had triggered it, be it trust or love or both.

You weren’t sure how to express your gratitude. Weren’t sure you were worthy of such a precious thing as her trust. Your hands had never held a baby bird that fragile before.

You gave her wrist a squeeze. “I’ll leave you alone now,” you whispered, “and –”

“Actually would you mind –” She cut herself short. Her gaze searched yours for a second, pleadingly, begging you to understand without her having to resort to words.

“Yes?” you breathed, body leaning closer to hers so there was no more than one inch between her and you.

Her eyes met yours again, dark and sad and something in your chest like a string attached to your heart pulled towards her, desperate to hold with healing hands and soothing warmth.

“Could you –”

Again, she bit her lip against the words she wouldn’t allow herself to utter. You searched her eyes to try and understand as frustration flicked across her face, nails digging into flesh, lips twisting; until finally she released a breath and with it burst out, terrified and angry and shaking, “Would you mind just holding me for a second?”

She winced at her own words, her nails digging deeper into her skin in disgust as fresh tears pooled in her eyes. With your heart in your throat you wrapped your arms around her shoulders and pulled her close.

How easy it would have been to burst into tears and wail pitifully in her arms. God knew how badly you wanted to. But Wilhemina was being so brave, and you had to make it up to her for the way you had behaved, so you swallowed back your tears and forced yourself to take a deep breath to ease the ache in your chest.

You buried your face in Wilhemina’s hair, squeezing her so tight in your arms part of you was terrified you were hurting her - the other part didn’t care. Your fingers dug into her shoulders, and hers clutched the back of your shirt, her lips grazing the skin of your neck but not daring to press a kiss.

Her eyes were red and puffy when you met her gaze again. Gently you cupped her face, and dropped a kiss on each of her burning cheeks – then, tentatively, brushed your lips against hers.

A noise that was half a sob, half laughter pushed out of Wilhemina’s mouth and then her lips pressed against yours, hot and wet and needy but with a shyness to them, so hesitant, as if this was your first kiss and she was expecting rejection. You pressed your chest against hers to show her you were not going anywhere, slid your hand up her back and pushed your palm against her spine, a silent I want you, all of you. So Wilhemina nipped your lower lip, and only let herself relax when you hummed appreciatively.

You held her hand as she fought to regain her composure; straightened her shoulders, veiled her eyes, and shielded her heart. You accompanied her to the nearest bathroom, and gave her hand one last squeeze before you let go of it.

Mutt and Jeff peered up at you as you stomped into their office, collapsed into Mutt’s arms and finally let yourself burst into tears.

Mutt gave your back several awkward pats as you sobbed, clinging to him and wiping your eyes and nose on his shirt. Jeff’s awkwardness was almost palpable, and when you pulled away from Mutt, still sobbing, all he could think of was to offer you some coke, and then a drink when you refused.

“No,” you whined, “no, I need to stay sober. I need to make it right.”

“Jeez, did you kill someone?” Mutt asked, with a glance in Jeff’s direction and a guffaw to hide his nervousness.

“I thought about what you asked me,” Mutt went on after a few seconds. “Sorry, babe, but I can’t think of anything out of the ordinary that happened yesterday.”

To kill time you went on a walk, and ended up buying a huge bouquet of roses and dahlias for Wilhemina, as well as two boxes of fancy dark chocolates, a very fluffy lilac blanket, and two bottles of Wilhemina’s favorite wine. You stacked all those gifts in the backseat of your car, and walked back into Kineros at 6:30pm sharp.

Wilhemina was waiting for you in the lobby, sitting very straight on a chair, both hands tightly wrapped around the head of her cane.

“Oh shit,” you whined, “was it 6 today?”

She nodded. You poured out apologies, which she didn’t seem to hear as she slowly pushed herself up from her chair. You fell silent when you realised she had waited half an hour for you, despite it all. Something nice fluttered in your chest.

In the car Wilhemina’s eyes fell on her gifts, then shifted to you, questioningly, and her cheeks reddened when you explained it was all for her.

The drive was awkward. You turned the radio on to fill in the silence, opened your window because the air felt too hot, fidgeted on your seat and drummed on the wheel every time you had to stop at a red light. Several times you opened your mouth to speak, only to close it again.

Wilhemina’s hand was shaking when she opened her front door. You dumped all the gifts you had bought her on the sofa and hurried to help her out of her coat, and did she want you to make her some tea? Was she hungry? Would she rather you ran her a bath? You could make her dinner, her favorite dish, and if an ingredient was lacking you would run to the store so if she needed anything else you could buy it too, and -

“I don’t need anything, Y/N,” she cut you off, not meanly, but with a firmness to her voice and an absence of warmth that effectively made you shut up.

You stood still in the middle of her living room, not knowing what to do and mind running a mile a minute. While Wilhemina tended to the flowers, you decided to fluff and rearrange the pillows on her couch, and when you were done and couldn’t find anything else to do, you hurried to her and planted yourself at a safe distance behind her as you blurted out, “Mina, I’m so sorry.”

Wilhemina’s fingers stilled for a second over the flowers. She didn’t speak, didn’t nod, didn’t acknowledge your apology.

“What I did yesterday was terrible and I don’t know how to make it up to you,” you pushed on, voice quivering but still loud, for you were determined to mend whatever you could still mend. “I - I don’t know how to apologize properly to you, and I’m terrified I’m going to lose you.”

Silence. Your body felt hot suddenly, as if someone had sparked a fire within you. You ran one hand over your forehead nervously, heart drumming in your ears, peering at Wilhemina’s shoulders. Her ponytail fell neatly down her back, red frizz grazing the pale skin of her neck just below her hairline.

Silence lingered. Your eyes fell hopelessly to the floor.

“The gifts were a nice touch,” Wilhemina said.

You looked up at her, automatically took a step forward.

“Were they really? I’m so glad. I didn’t know if -”

“Nothing happened yesterday.”

You cut yourself short, mouth still open as you stared at her in surprise. From where you were standing behind her, you could only see the sharp lines of her left jaw, cheekbone and brow. She was staring fixedly at a rose, hands resting on the table on either side of the vase and supporting most of her weight.

“I passed a couple on the sidewalk and they laughed, and I couldn’t help but –” Her voice faltered, eyes closing in frustration. “I thought they were laughing at me.”

Quickly you closed the distance between her and you and leaned forward to take a better look at her face.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you breathed.

“Because it’s so stupid,” she spat, eyes still closed, anger making her voice tremble. “It’s so fucking stupid, Y/N. I know they could have been laughing at anything, but my stupid, stupid…”A hiss, one hand coming up to press her palm against her forehead.

“It’s not stupid,” you heard yourself say. Your fingers brushed her arm, a silent question, hopeful, tentative, your skin drawn to her warmth always. And just as she had done a few hours ago, she leaned into your touch, and your fingers wrapped around her wrist.

“It made me so incredibly…There was so much…” Her palm hit her forehead as a sob pushed out of her mouth. “It shouldn’t have affected me like that. I shouldn’t have let it. But there was so much… I couldn’t even bear you touching me like that,” she breathed.

“So much what?” you whispered, grazing your lips over her shoulder.

A long, shaky breath. You could almost hear the words screaming in Wilhemina’s head, pushing against the dam in her throat but not strong enough to break through it. Instead, she removed her hand from your grip, reached into her pocket, and slipped a small piece of paper into your hand.

“What’s this?” you asked.

You unfolded the piece of paper to find a phone number in Wilhemina’s handwriting.

Wilhemina sniffed, took a breath to speak. “It’s Lily’s.”

You looked up at her confusedly.

“For the days like yesterday,” Wilhemina explained. Her gaze fled yours, sad and ashamed, before meeting it again. The hand that had been touching yours mere seconds ago now wrapped around the head of her cane and dug into it. “For the nights I can’t satisfy you.”

For a moment you stared at her, unable or unwilling to process her words, while she shrank back further away from you. For a moment there was only white noise in your head.

And then something hot rose inside you, familiar and hated and too strong.

So, hold on – hold on.

“Is that what you want?” you said – too angry. You were losing control again, brain filled with smoke and it felt like you were listening to yourself speak instead of thinking the words. “You want me to fuck somebody else?”

The words boomed through the room. Louder and scarier than thunder. Wilhemina and you were left staring at each other, too small and too helpless to face something that big and that powerful.

You watched as Wilhemina’s face hardened by the second, drawbridge being raised against the assault. “Of course not,” she said.

“Then why the hell would you give this to me?” you spat, waving the piece of paper in her face.

Wilhemina fought for a second more, before her face crumpled and her gaze dropped to the floor. “I told you,” she whispered, arm coming up to hug herself.

The gesture made something break in you. Some of the smoke in your brain cleared out through the crack.

“You’re a blithering idiot,” you heard yourself hiss. It sounded half-convinced, but it made Wilhemina wince anyway. “If you think I’d want that,” you added.

“And you’re as stupid as you look,” Wilhemina hissed back weakly, “if you get mad at me for trying to help you.”

“I’m mad because you seem to have such a low opinion of me,” you grumbled, crossing your arms against your chest.

“I know there are human needs, which one who is in a relationship is expected to-”

“My ‘human needs’ do not control me.”

A faint, mirthless laugh. “Of course they don’t.”

“They don’t.”

“Right.”

“Yes, right.”

Silence.

The last of your anger was fizzling out. You could still feel it crackling faintly in your upper body, but the last embers were being stifled by something colder and heavier.

The silence buzzed in your ears.

Stubbornly you held Wilhemina’s gaze, trying to look mad, but your fists were unclenching, and it was sadness – it was sadness, taking over. And with it came a sudden sense of exhaustion.

You didn’t want to fight anymore. You wanted to pretend everything was alright, close your eyes and go to sleep. And in the morning the sunshine would have driven out past mistakes, selfishness and hurt, and you would get up with a happy heart and music in your head.

Your gaze wavered. You pretended to examine the piece of paper in your hand, but your vision was swimming, and the clamminess of your palm had smudged the ink. There was a shape that must have been a zero but now looked like a battered eight, and the last two numbers you couldn’t venture to guess what they had been.

You ran your thumb over those broken remnants of Wilhemina’s neat handwriting. Wondered what she had been feeling, when she had pressed the nib of her pen on paper, and had her hand shaken at all? Some people talked with their hands, Wilhemina’s had a language of their own. They would fidget and brush and grab and claw, and they would shake – and you would hold.

Always, dear Lord, always – you had promised.

You glanced up at Wilhemina again, to find her looking back at you, tears flickering their way down her cheeks.

“Should we, er.” You paused, looking down at the floor again. “Should we have dinner?”

You weren’t sure Wilhemina would play along. But when you gathered enough courage to glance up at her, she was wiping her cheeks, and she nodded.

Wilhemina disappeared into the bathroom while you cooked pasta. Your hands moved on auto-pilot, your brain too numb and too tired to think. You were dumping bits of butter into the pasta when Wilhemina emerged, hair down and body wrapped in a long-sleeved, loose-fitting, thin periwinkle nightdress you had bought her a few months ago.

The fact that she had chosen this nightdress in particular made fresh tears pool in your eyes. It felt like a peace offering, an extended hand you were only too eager to hold. You placed a plate on the table in front of her, and whispered something about her looking very nice. Wilhemina acknowledged the compliment with a nod.

She played with her food until you coaxed her into actually eating some of it, and then you took your turn in the bathroom while she did the dishes.

In front of the bed you hesitated. You didn’t know whether Wilhemina wanted you in there with her, or if she’d rather you slept on the couch, or worse, if she wanted you to drive back to your place. Would she play by the rules? You eyed her as she walked around the room rearranging things and closing the shutters, and planted herself across the bed from you.

Your gazes met. You were trying your best not to chew on your lower lip. Wilhemina’s fingers were fidgeting with the hem of her nightdress. For a few, painfully long seconds it went on like this, until Wilhemina lifted the sheet and lay down underneath it.

You waited for her to settle and then, deciding her silence was an invitation, slipped under the sheet yourself.

Wilhemina reached out and turned off the bedside light.

Hoping you could fall asleep was stupid. Every inch of you was thrumming with nervousness. You wondered if Wilhemina could feel the quick beating of your heart, so loud it seemed to make the whole bed shake.

What time was it? You had no idea. You forced yourself to lie as still as possible, with your hands folded on your chest and your eyes fixed on the ceiling. When you couldn’t stop yourself anymore, you turned on your side, facing Wilhemina.

Blue light seeped through the shutters behind her. So the sun had barely set. What had Wilhemina been thinking, when she had closed the shutters and seen the light still clinging to the sky? Had she ignored it, resigned on playing pretend, that this was a happy night with bright twinkling stars in the sky and on her left the pale halo heralding the rising of the moon? That she wasn’t bleeding inside but warm, and that sleep would find her and press a kiss to her eyelids like a gentle lover.

Wilhemina’s eyes were wide open, shining in the dark. You raised a hand, hesitated.

“Can I touch you?” you breathed.

Something growled. You were not playing by the rules. In this ideal world you and Wilhemina had silently agreed to live in, there was no need for asking. Permission was always granted. Your fingers were to press against her skin freely and there was no need for checking because everything was always fine. This was how you were supposed to play. Cheaters would be kicked out of the room.

Wilhemina shifted, settled on her side, facing you. The distance between you two was small, less than the length of your hand.

She nodded.

Your fingers grazed her shoulder first, a safe place, before moving until they reached the edge of her nightdress. They jumped over her neck to land on her chin, and then spread out, cupping her cheek.

Wilhemina leaned into your touch and let out a sigh at the familiar softness and warmth of you. She made a movement as if to shift closer to you, stopped herself. For a moment you simply stroked her cheek, and then you continued your exploration of her, hand slipping down her chin to brush past her collarbone and down between her breasts.

There had been nothing sexual about your caress, but Wilhemina reached for your hand anyway and kept it still over her heart. Her eyes met yours, sad and ashamed.

“I know, baby,” you breathed. You offered her a smile you weren’t sure she could see in the dark. Laced your fingers with hers, gave her hand a squeeze. “I won’t, I promise.”

Wilhemina bit her lower lip to stop it from quivering. You pressed a gentle kiss on her cheek. “You’re okay, baby, you’re okay,” you breathed against her skin, before pressing another kiss on it.

The thing growled again. In the ideal world you had agreed to live in, it scolded, your hand should have slipped lower and moans should already be filling the room. But in this ideal world, one more piece of Wilhemina would be breaking, and one piece of you would start to rot.

Wilhemina draped one arm over your waist, and when you felt her tentatively nudge your collarbone with her nose, before nestling her face in the crook of your neck, when you felt her shift so that her thigh pressed against yours, nightdress riding up and her skin warm and soft, you closed your eyes to block out anything that wasn’t her and you, and the space your bodies occupied.

And how it made your heart swell, the trust her actions told of. Pressing herself against you like that, and trusting that you would be true to your words, and not seek to take it further. Or was her need for affection so strong she was willing to take the risk? You decided to believe in the former.

Your hand that had been on her heart slid up her chest and underneath her nightdress to feel more of her. You buried your face in her hair.

“I don’t mind whether we make love or not,” you whispered. You cleared your throat and said it louder, in case she hadn’t heard the first time, or had refused to hear. “I really don’t. What matters to me is that you’re happy – or at least, that you feel safe.”

Your hand started tracing lazy circles on her skin. Wilhemina’s lips pushed against the skin of your neck, nose blowing hot air on it.

“If I reacted the way I did yesterday,” you pushed on, “it was only because I got mad at what you said, and because I knew you were holding something back from me.” You swallowed, drew a nervous shape across her shoulder. “Sometimes… sometimes it gets so hard for me to control my anger. It’s not an excuse, I’m just telling you so you understand what happened. I know I never should have reacted the way I did.”

You pulled away then, determined to have her look at you before you uttered the next words. You had forgotten it was very likely she wouldn’t be able to see your expression in the dark. It seemed to you honesty shone of its own light.

Slowly, her eyes opened to meet yours. You cupped her cheek and offered her a smile. It was quivering, burdened by guilt and remorse, but it was there still.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, loudly, because you felt a whisper wouldn’t be enough. You wanted to scream the words out.

Wilhemina nodded, made to hide, to bury her face in your chest but you gently held her head up so she could look at the honesty in your eyes. Her teeth sank into her lower lip in a vain attempt to stop herself from breaking down, but her chin was trembling in your palm, and soon enough you felt tears slip down between your fingers.

Angrily you pushed your forehead against hers. “You’re not inadequate,” you breathed. “You’re not inadequate. Do you hear me?” She nodded, a sob pushing out of her just as her lips caught yours so it petered out in your mouth. You kissed her back, spoke the next words between her teeth. “I don’t think I’d ever been made love to before you. It felt nice, but you… every time you as much as touch me I feel a thousand raptures. Do you hear me?”

Her tongue pushed inside your mouth, despair making her too brutal, and she was still choking on tears and sobbing into your mouth as her hands grabbed at every part of you that she could reach. You kissed her back, hands holding her waist, until she had bit and nipped your lips swollen and stolen all the air from you and you had stolen all the air from her, and you both pulled away at the same time, breathless.

You both stayed silent as you caught your breath, blowing air into each other’s mouth. One of your hands let go of her hip to swipe at her cheeks and stroke across her brow. Wilhemina sniffed, pressed her forehead against yours again, and let go of a long, hot, moist breath.

And then, because you had agreed to tell her your failing, she agreed to share her secret with you.

She held your face in her hands and tilted it so her mouth was brushing your ear, and you reached for the sheet and pulled it over your heads to hide from the game masters and because it had always been easier for Wilhemina to communicate in complete darkness. When no one could see her and her failure, and she could stop performing for there was no one to intimidate.

She described harmless things first, the color of the dress the woman had been wearing, how the man’s arm had been wrapped around her waist. He’d been wearing glasses and her hair had been tied up.

Then she said how, when she had looked up at them, they had been laughing, their heads almost touching, and how the woman’s eyes had scanned her face first, and then the man’s. And how the woman had nodded at something the man had whispered in her ear, her lips twitching with amusement.

They had passed her and they had walked on and out of her life. And she had walked on and out, too, but her steps had faltered.

And she shouldn’t have let it, she whispered in your ear, as the air beneath the sheet grew warmer, she really shouldn’t have let it, but the laughter had sunk into her and crawled all the way up and down her, hurting everywhere – except her heart. Her heart had gone numb to protect itself.

She’d carried the weight of the laughter crawling and hurting inside her and she’d carried on her day, completing all the tasks she had had to do, and then she’d driven home, taken off her coat and accepted the cup of tea you had slipped into her hands. The laughter had still been weighing her down when you’d told her about your day and she’d tried but failed to listen, and later when she’d helped you cook dinner, forced her food to stay down, let you neglect the dishes and fled to the bathroom where she’d locked the door behind her.

She had locked the door behind her, she confessed in a small voice. Because she had been craving for solitude, because your fond smiles and worried looks and tender touches had hurt her as much as the laughter had.

And then in bed you had pressed yourself against her with a renewed promise of love and tenderness and her heart had roared back to life, crying out that this was too much, that it couldn’t handle any more. It revolted against love and desired to burn itself out. It shall step through fire and burn down to ashes and it would not allow anyone to save it.

You let her speak. Your throat was too tight to let out words anyway. Until Wilhemina sniffed and said she knew there would be more nights and days like this, and that was why she had given you Lily’s phone number – at that, your voice forced its way out to growl that you would never, it would kill you and even if you could bear it, it would kill her too and that you would never allow.

Wilhemina lowered her head and sobbed.

After you two had emerged from under the sheet, you got up to get her and you some water, and opened the window to air the room. Outside it was finally night. You looked at the dark, silent street and wondered if tonight could still be saved, after all; if it could still be made into something Wilhemina and you wouldn’t be afraid or ashamed to remember.

But then, as you lingered at the window and Wilhemina called out your name, sleepy and soft, and you turned to see her lying on her side with her arms opened, you realized tonight had already been saved. So you quickly closed the window and crossed the room to her, and breathed a “Thank you” into her hair as her arms closed around you and pulled you close.

Tag list: @mssallymckenna @supremeinlilac @pluied-ete @rainbow-hedgehog @pearplate @angelxsarahp @paulawand @asktammyr @peggycarter-steverogers @coconutlipss @saucy-sapphic @thesupremewife @paulsonpills @vintagepaulson @billiedeansbottom @lilypadscoven @winslctrg @simpforpaulson @venablesgirl @mckennamayfairgoode @ka-s

#sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #wilhemina venable x reader #wilhemina venable #ahs #ahs imagines #fics

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quietmyfearswith · 3 years

Text

rusting wheels ; clark kent x fem!reader

status — completed oneshot

word count — 1,627 words

summary — in which clark kent has had a rough day.

warnings —swear words, angst?? fluff?? mentions of liquor, mentions feeling worthless and sad.

pairing — clark kent x fem!reader

a/n — not the longest fic i put up but i’ve been going through a writing dry spell 😭 i’d appreciate some feedback and asks/messages are open! if you follow me, please state your age/age range in your bio. i will block you if you follow me and don’t have your age/age range in your bio!!!

tagging —@la-cey @melancholyy-hill @pedropcl @beck07990 @doozywoozy

masterlist | series masterlist | join my taglist (please follow the rules)

When he returned from the dead, Clark did not expect to feel this meaningless. He died to protect others from the danger that Doomsday brought upon the citizens of Metropolis and the reason he was brought back was to prevent a catastrophic event from occuring to the entire world. It put a pressure on him just as much as it drilled the idea that that was all he was good for — putting out fires that were forced upon his shoulders and deemed his responsibility.

After preventing a bank robbery that would have escalated to a hostage situation due to the presence of civilians who were unfortunately present during the whole incident, he decided to take a stroll first before heading back to his flat. Having changed from his superhero attire to casual clothes, he aimlessly roamed around Metropolis to calm himself as there were still faint remnants of adrenaline rushing through his veins.

Entering the dimly lit establishment, he appreciated the fact that it wasn’t crowded. A shy dozen — and that’s including the staff that were working there — were present and allowed him to not wallow in his usual spot by the booth and instead take up a spot by the bartender, thus allowing him to be served faster.

“Rum please,” He smiled at the bearded bartender who nodded and prompted to prepare it; once the crystal glass slid over to him, he downed it all in one go. “One more,” He demanded and the bartender had to take a double look — there was a high percentage of liquor in the rum he gave him and it was a surprise to him since it physically looked like he wasn’t fazed by it.

“Yikes man, seems like you needed that one badly,” That comment came from his right and surprised him, as he looked over he noticed a woman who was smirking at him as she drank a little bit of her drink, “You alright over there?”

Taken by surprise with how genuine her concern sounded despite the words she chose to suggest otherwise, “Honestly? No, I’m not,” He downs only half of the liquor before completely turning to face her, “I’m sorry I might be raining on your parade.”

She shook her head and waved at him, “I wouldn’t have asked you if I wasn’t interested hm?” Clark flashed her his pearly whites as he smiled as he replied, “Well how about we talked about something else?” He nodded and was about to speak when she quickly cut him off by saying, “Let’s start with your name then; unless you want me to call you mine?”

There was a blush creeping on his cheeks but he tried to ignore it as he held out his right hand and introduced himself, “Name’s Clark, Clark Kent,” She said her name as she shook his hand while adding, “Who knows? Maybe you might be moaning that out loud later on.” Liking his response to her own pick up comment, she nodded as she moved to close the distance between them and sit on the bar stool directly beside him.

“So Mr. Kent, I don’t think you’re a frequent patron of this bar huh?” Nodding as he gulped down his third drink, “Never been to this bar before — let alone this neighbourhood.” She nodded as he observed his tense figure; so she decided to lighten up the mood by jokingly implying, “Aren’t you glad you’re having your first time with me?”

Giggles erupted out of him when he understood the slightly dirty implication of her choice of words, “It depends,” He shrugged before ordering another round of drinks, “You haven’t really shown me anything yet.” It wasn’t just his words that wounded her ego, but also the way he relaxed his back into the chair and looked at her in a nonchalant manner.

“Is that a challenge?” She scoffed as she reached for the pocket of her coat and handed cash to the bartender, “For our drinks,” She told him before hastily wearing her coat, “Come on with me then.”

There was a puzzled look on his face as she was standing on her feet and crossed her arms at him, “Well? Why aren’t you getting up then, Clark?”

“Where are we headed to by the way?” Despite the indications of uncertainty in his tone, he was walking behind her as he too was draping over his thick, brown coat over his muscular frame. A delectable shiver ran down his spine when he felt her hand wrap itself around his wrist as she led them out of the establishment.

“Where’s the fun in telling you where we’re going huh?” She smirked at him and the journalist didn’t find it in himself to prevent himself from chuckling too as he shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know; who’s to say you won’t take me someplace so you can kill me?”

She stopped walking as she stared at him with an “are you kidding me?” look and scoffed, “I don’t need to see you in action, but your physique is all the proof I need to know that you are someone I do not want to fight against.”

For a second there Clark was anxious that she knew about his superhero persona; but he took a peek in her mind and she was not thinking of such a thing. And as she led him by the hand, she stopped in front of a small wooden dock which was right by a small pond , “You brought me here?”

Sheepishly nodding, she sat down and pat the spot next to her, “Sorry if it wasn’t as big as you hoped,” Feeling him take the spot up she then looked at him with an apologetic glint in her eyes, “This is just the spot I usually go to when I need to calm down and relax.”

Silently, he took in his surroundings — there was not a lot of noise that distracted him from his own thoughts, the serene landscape was highlighted with its local, beautiful trees matched with the flower bushes that were scattered around the small area pleased his blue eyes. A small smile rested on his lips as he gazed at the ducks that were swimming around the pond before looking at her, “How’d you find this place out?”

“Was walking around the city after a bad day,” She sighed out as she recalled how every single aspect possible of her life turned against her, ultimately leaving her in a bitter mood, “And since I didn’t want to sulk around in my apartment, I went for a stroll. Luckily, my feet dragged me here.”

“And you’ve been coming here ever since? To just take a step back and breathe?”

She nodded as she looked at him with wonder, “Exactly like that; are you a mind reader of some sort?” Her elbow playfully poked his stomach and they both laughed at each other's childishness.

“Thank you,” Clark spoke after a few moments of silently staring at the way the stars shone in the sky; puzzled with what he was grateful for she spoke up, “For what?”

“For trusting me enough to show me this special place of yours,” He explained with a serene expression on his face, “I’ve been going through a rough patch myself.” Saying it out loud somehow made the last Kryptonian feel better. Closing his eyes to take a deep breath in, he found himself sharing what he has been bottling up, “Girlfriend broke up with me, work’s a pain in my behind, I’ve been doing a lot of,” He paused for a moment as he tried to think of a word to describe his world-saving activities involving the Justice League, “Some volunteer work and just,” A shaky exhale escaped his lips before he let out the final factor that has been taking a toll on him, “I’ve been feeling useless and worthless.”

Seeing the way how dejected he looked — paired with the way his voice cracked when he mentioned the final sentence — made her heart ache for him as she reached out for his hand, rubbing the back of his palm with her thumb, an effort to rid him of the negative sentiments he had.

“From what I see, you’re trying too hard and too much to be someone people expect you to be,” Her other hand reached up to his face as she wiped away the stray tears that inadvertently escaped his eyes. Her lips stretched out to a small smile, “You’re a kind man and you’re pushing yourself too much. You spend so much time looking after people that you don’t even take time to tend to yourself.”

Hearing someone see his efforts made him feel validated; as he looked at her, Clark felt stronger despite having just been vulnerable and open with her. “Thank you,” He smiled with glossy eyes, “That meant so much to me.”

“Well I’m glad that I somehow got to make you feel better, Clark.”

He chuckled to himself before fully turning to face her, “You know I’m much more fun and lively than I am right now?” Shaking her head she then lightly hit his arm, “Yeah? So far you haven’t really shown me anything yet.” Her smirked

Realizing that she had used his own line against him, he smirked at her before pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead, “Yeah? How ‘bout you let me take you out for a date then?” Biting the insides of her cheek to prevent the wide grin from erupting free.

“Well Mr. Kent, I look forward to going on a date with you — I bet that you can’t top off this amazing view of the lake though.”

#quietmyfearswith #please dont steal my work thank you #clark kent x reader #clark kent x fem!reader #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x fem!reader #kal el x reader #kal el x fem!reader #clark kent x reader fluff #clark kent x reader angst #clark kent angst #clark kent fluff #henry cavill x reader angst #henry cavill x reader fluff #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill angst

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mintbaby1012 · 3 years

Text

Felix ♥ Sleepover

You and your best friend felix see each other for the first time in awhile

dom!felix x fem!reader

WARNINGS: SMUT, fluff, daddy kink, praise, dirty-talk, slight degradation

Word count: 2318

——————————————————————————-

It had been a long day, a Friday. The best day of the week that seems like the longest day of the week. My best friend Felix from when I lived in Sydney as a kid was at my house staying the night as my parents and I just moved to Korea. My mother trusted Felix since she has known him since we were little tots.

"I'm going out with your father for a business dinner we'll be back around 11 PM or 12 AM as always depending on his boss," yelled my mom as she was walking out the door. I was just really happy to be with my bestfriend again for the first time in 6 years he left Sydney to be an idol which I understand. I just missed getting to see my bestfriend and crush in person everyday.

Currently we were sitting on my bed playing Clash Royale together and streaming their comeback shows to get in more views. Felix's group Stray Kids just had a comeback with the title song Side Effects and damn, it's a fucking bop.

Right as me and Felix won a battle their newest comeback show came on and Felix begged, "Let's skip this one I rather not watch this promotion show pleaseeeeee y/n pleaseeeeee let's skip this one"

Felix was begging and blushing he looked embarrassed honestly which intrigued me. "No I want to watch this once as seeing your reaction I'm interested," I stated while watching the TV intensely

"HOLY FUCKING HELL, SHIT SINCE WHEN FELIXXXX!!! WHAT THE FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKK YOU HAVE ABSSS!?!?! I WANT TO SEE THEM LIVE NOWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!" I exclaimed as I saw him rap and hold his shirt up a good five seconds. He had just faceplanted into my pillow and groaned in embarrassment while replied to me blushing, "No I will not show you my abs, it's embarrassing... Ahhhh I didn't want to watch this one I'm so embarrassed now!" I just pouted and exclaimed, "Come on Felix~~~~ all the stays there got to see them why can't I see them live too!"

Felix just sat on my bed looking out the window blushing and ignoring me. So what do I do, I get into a play fight with him. We toss and turn on my bed fighting to become the champion. Felix was tickling me as his tactic, and I was kicking for my tactic.

In the end Felix ended up underneath me while I sat on him in victory. I took the chance while he was catching his breath, and I was on top of him to quickly lift his shirt and see his abs.

Felix's eyes widened with disbelief and I started blushing while staring at his abs. I honestly didn't think I would got turned on by seeing his abs. I've seen him shirtless many times as a kid.

"Y/n, y/n don't. Stop please y/n!" I didn't hear his pleads for me to stop whatever I was doing, or more I was to focused on his abs I forgot he was there; my hand was slowly going torwards his abs and I couldn't stop myself I was drawn to them.

I finally touched them, but I was a blushing mess. My fingers instinctively started tracing each abdominal muscles and gliding over his skin, till I was knocked out of my hypnotized state by my wrist being grabbed and pulled away.

I looked Felix dead in the eyes, he was also looking into my eyes. I started scanning his body from his eyes, to his neck, to his abs, back up to his arms, then his hand that was attached to my wrist. I gasped and pulled my wrist away, pushing myself up trying to get off of Felix but failing and landing somewhere bad.

As I landed I felt him, it, his hard on, or his dick. I froze and my entire body heated up as I heard Felix grunt deeply. I looked at his face and was hypnotized by his flushed cheeks, dark, and now cloudy eyes.

The next thing I know is he grabbed my wrist again and pulled me down on top of him. Our faces were barely an two cenimeters apart and my hands ended up grabbing his shoulders as our bodies were pressed together.

"May I?" Felix said in his deep voice while looking at my lips and I just nodded my head and within a second our lips were connected. At first our lips were just touching then, Felix started actually kissing me and I started returning the favor. The kiss grew more intense and passionate, biting and sucking on each others lips. Then our tongues, they moved together insync, connected as one desperately needing more and more.

I started getting frustrated with how needy I was and my lower half started moving on its on, grinding against Felix's clothed manhood. "Mmm fuck~~~" Felix moaned out as the heat between us grew.

Within two moments Felix was ontop of me kissing down my neck, gropping my clothed breasts, and grinding down on me desperate for friction. "Ngh~ Felix I want m-more than just this make out session," I moaned out breathily as I tugged his shirt over his head. Felix then pushed my shirt up revealing my stomach but not all the way to the point my breasts would be revealed and he said while kissing and leaving marks on my stomach, "Y/n, I really have been waiting forever for this, but I don't want to go too fast but if it's want you want as well, then screw taking time I can make you a mess right here and now!!"

I was a mess as he said I had never been kissed and touched this way before, I have never had someone leave hickies all over my stomach, and make me feel this way. I looked down at him with hooded lustful eyes and he was looking right back at me admiring every expression and reaction I made in response to his heavenly touch.

Before I realized it, he had pulled off my joggers and panties; his tongue was instantly on my core. I moaned out loudly and my body tensed while my back arched.

Felix's left hand was gripping my waist while his right was holding my right leg over his shoulder. "F-F-Felix!!! It feels so good!" I exclaimed in pleasure. His tongue was working magic licking between my folds, stimulating my clit, and exploring as far as it could reach into my pussy. My hands were tangled in his hair while he was making me feel, oh so good!

Before I could do anything else a knot formed in my stomach it was unbearable, "I'm gonna cum, D-Daddy I'm gonna cum!" I yelled in pleasure and Felix looked up to me shocked and said, "Then do it cum in my mouth just like you're supposed to." Him saying that triggered something and I came, releasing all my fluids into Felix's mouth as he made sure to lick it all up and swallow it.

"You sure do taste good princess." He said as he came back up to kiss me. As he finally lifted up my shirt over my head and took off my bra. I unbuttoned his pants and he pulled them off after he was done with declothing me.

Felix took one of my nipples into his mouth and the his other hand was playing with and sending jolts of pleasure through my body making me whimper out my thoughts, "Felix you haven't came yet, let me make you come."

Right as I said that he flipped us back over and grabbed my hair and pushed his dick into my mouth. At first I was a gagging mess but after him thrusting into my mouth a few times I took over. He threw his head back moaning in pleasure and squeezing a fistfull of my hair as I took in his cock, slowly taking in all of it deepthroating him, sucking he tip kissing and licking up and down his hard dick. "Fuck baby you're so good at this, this can't be the first time you've done this your making me so weak" The desperate man moaned out and I hummed in response while taking him in. Which caused him to release and shoot his seeds down my throat with no warning, but I did my best to swallow ever ounce of his sweet cum.

Felix pulled me up to face level and said, "I really want to fuck you, i want to make you mine forever, I want you to be the one I crave everyday, I want, no I need you to be my girlfriend, and I can't fuck you unless you say yes. I wouldn't want to take something another man is supposed to take that's not mine to have." I just kissed him in response and said, "Of course I'll be yours I've had a crush on you since we were ten!"

With that being said Felix flipped me over and lined up his dick with my entrance and told me, "This is gonna hurt tap my shoulder three times when I can make a next move after I'm inside you, I don't want you to hurt too much but it's unavoidable." Finally he pushed in and instantly I was tearing up it was like I was being ripped it hurt and burned so bad and tears were falling down my face. "Shhhh, it's okay I'm trying to not hurt you, I love you so much baby, it'll feel good soon I promise, you're so beautiful, I can't believe someone so beautiful as you is now my princess." Felix stated while wiping away and kissing my tears, and kissing my neck leaving more hickies to distract the pain.

After a few minutes I tapped on his shoulder three times as he said to do when I was ready. He instantly started to move slowly; looking into my eyes for signs of pain. To no surprise he was right the pain was fading and I started to crave for more so I moaned out of breath, "I want more daddy, give me more, I want to feel all of your cock pounding me!" He quickly sped up his pace and penetrated deeper making both of us a moaning mess. The sound of skin slapping, moans, grunts, whimpers and words of love filled the room making a symphony.

"You are so fucking tight princess. I fucking love you!" Felix grunted as he pushed as deep as he could inside me yearning for more pleasure. I whimpered in response unable to talk for Felix pounding into my pussy.

While he was fucking the life out of me he pushed his tongue back into my mouth making us completely one, he then sucked on my tongue before moving to my earlobe biting and licking making me moan out even more.

I was sad once he pulled away and pulled out his dick but he then demanded, "Get on your hands and knees now my little slut!" So I did as he said.

Right as I did so, he pushed my back down and perked my ass up, slightly spreading my legs apart and pulling on my hair he thrusted into my vagina full force using his one free hand to pull me into him as he thrusted into me. His actions made me scream out in pleasure and weak; my thighs felt like they were gonna give out and Felix noticed so he supported my body but kept thrust into me with all his might.

That one knot in my stomach was forming again and it was way more intense than the last time so I whimpered out, "I-I'm close I need to cum again" Felix moaned out, "Hold on just a few more seconds I'm close too princess I want to o-orgasm with you...." Three seconds later he yelled "Now!" We both came together, he pulled out and came all over my back and I released my juices that were now dripping onto the bed.

Felix cleaned himself and I, putting back on our clothes, then cleaned the bed and mess he and I made. "I want to cuddle... Don't go to the guest room stay with me daddy!"

He just giggled and got under the bed covers with me while saying, "I never said I was going to the guest room but right now I want to know.... since when did you have a daddy kink hmmmmm?!?!?!?" I instantly flushed red and he snicker while I stuttered out, "I-I-I called you daddy? I didn't realize fuck I need to control my mouth, your disgusted aren't you, I'm sorry I won't do it again."

I pouted and he just laughed and pulled me close to him holding me in his embrace as he said, "No, princess I loved it you can call me Daddy whenever you please, and we should really have sleepovers more often when your mom and dad are out for business a few hours, now that you are mine, I really enjoyed this sleepover!"

#skz scenarios #stray kids #felix smut #felix stray kids #smut #felix kinks

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cherryblossomtease · 3 years

Text

Chapter 8

18+ only

Warnings and summary - Masterlist

You can’t stand it. The anticipation is a part of the foreplay and god knows he’s magnificent at it, but you’re just propped up with a pillow under your hips and the air of the room cool on your skin —every entrance exposed for him— and he hasn’t touched you since walking into the bedroom.

You imagine ahead to the sex that will follow whatever he has in store and you know he’s watching the way you flex and pulse with wanting him.

Your hands are still bound at the wrist and currently over your head so your weight is on your elbows as you lift your chin trying to see him behind you.

“Head down,” He says and you comply. He says your name as if disappointed in you “Am I not clear with my rules?” He asks and you’re scared to answer. “You remember the last time you broke them right?”

You do, of course you do. The pain and denial followed by such a release. “Yes Baron.”

“And yet you’ve done it again.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you?”

You smile just a little and refuse to give him the answer that will save your hide. For better or worse, he is not patient with you tonight.

The resulting smack of his belt to your ass makes you shriek and you bite the duvet. Your hands are folded and you press your fingers into the flesh to get through the pain.

“Will you offer yourself like that again?” He asks.

You shake your head but raise up to speak. “I was just helping.” You roll your eyes and he can’t see your face but you’re very good at amplifying that snarky tone.

You feel the sting of not one but two slaps of the belt this time and the pain translates as anger, the emotion bubbling in your chest. “That’s not fair, I did what you wanted!” You yell.

God…why did you go and do that? Maybe because you know what will happen. He does not accept you talking back to him when you’re fully in your roles and tonight you’re having a hard time keeping the worlds separate.

Now there is an awful rhythm to his punishment. The horrible sting of the belt and you count to three in your head between strikes and try to flex your muscles to brace against the next but there is no relief.

When your shoulders shake and you’re on the verge of tears, Zemo stops.

“What is rule one?” He asks.

“No flirting.” You whisper your breath shaking your chin quivering.

“And did you break the rule?”

“But I thought… you told me to…”

He sighs. “I said to distract him, not to give yourself to him, not to let him touch you, and he did, didn’t he?”

You open your eyes looking out at the dark city skyline through the windows. “Yes.”

“Where? Where was his hand while you blew on his dice?” He says disgusted.

You look away and groan. “My ass…”

“Whose?” He asks, his voice high with the question he already knows the answer to.

You’re confused at first and don’t answer. The sharp crack across your skin snaps you out of it and you cry out but answer. “Yours”

“Say it again.” He snarls.

“Yours, Baron yours.” You insist. “I’m sorry” You gasp when you feel his hand make contact instead of the belt. One smack and then he lays his palm flat on your hot, stinging skin. “I am yours”

“I know,” His voice is in your ear and you feel a finger slide down along your glistening divide. He is breathing hard, you feel each exhale down your back as he strokes. “You’re very wet.”

You press your lips tight as you moan. “I—I just…”

“You liked it didn’t you?” He says slipping his finger in just a little

You open your eyes and look back at him over your shoulder. “What?”

“We’ll have to find someone more suitable for you to play the whore with later. Polisky is not worthy of you. Not even close. Until then, you’ll have to be satisfied with one man.” He’s been slowly adjusting his hand as he speaks and now he’s got his thumb at your asshole and his middle finger teasing your cunt.

You swallow feeling your mouth go dry.

He wants you to fuck another man?

Zemo is toying with you and the little sparks of surprise that come from being touched at both entrances make you whimper and moan. You want more…

Who would it be? This other man. He knows a lot of people, but you’re fairly certain he doesn’t have friends he’d trust with you. Maybe one of the boys from Low Town…. Just as you start to get lost in that fantasy, he pulls the pillow out from under your hips and turns you over helping bring your arms down so your hands can rest.

“Open your legs” He says and gets up.

You pull your knees up and out to make the diamond shape that he likes and watch as he strips down to nothing but his underwear. He goes and stands at the foot of the bed to look at you and you wonder for a moment if there will be pleasure or pain or both.

Even he seems unsure. You catch a glimpse of something else that has nothing to do with either of your tastes in sex and you want to pull him close, but you need to ask first.“Baron?”

He looks down at you and raises his chin in defiance to the feelings he’s keeping secret.

“May I ask you something?”

“You may.” He says.

“Are you sure you want this tonight?”

His eyes narrow. Instead of answering, he gets on the bed and lowers down, pushing your leg closed as he settles beside you.

“Want what?”

“Me…”

He smiles but it’s sad. He calls you lovely Sokovian pet names and traces your profile with his finger. “There is truly nothing I want more.”

You turn to look at him very much aware of being bound and unable to touch him. “What happened in there. What happened in Polinsky’s room. You saw something and you haven’t been the same since.”

He sighs slowly, so reluctant to say, but he does finally. “Before I came back to Madripoor, I was in prison, you know this already” He says unbinding your hands. It's unexpected but you lay there letting him. “I was—freed— by someone I have something of a past with.”

“A friend?” You feel a twinge of jealously. “Who is she?”

Zemo pauses, looks at you and chuckles. “She, is named James Buchanan Barnes, you might have heard him referred to as, the winter soldier.”

You gasp rubbing your wrists. “You know him? He’s, well he’s got a reputation to rival yours.

Zemo shrugs a little and lets the silky rope that he uses to tie you up fall to the bed beside you. “Apparently he’s a changed man.” He says and you’re very curious as to what that means.

“What does that have to do with Polinsky’s phone?”

“I saw a notification. He’s here, in New York with Sam Wilson. Captain America himself. My hunt for the serum has led them to me.”

You understand now. The Avengers or what’s left of them can’t go anywhere without people taking pictures. It’s probably on some TMZ knock off website and Zemo saw it. “They’re here for you?”

“I’m a very wanted man.”

“Don’t I know it” You tease softly and he actually laughs. “Are you afraid they’d take you back?’

“No. It’s not them I’m worried about. But if James and Sam know, then the real threat is near.”

“Who?” You ask ready to defend him in any way that you can.

Zemo runs his thumb over your lips and gently turns your head to face him. “Don’t think about it. Tonight may be all we have for a while.”

The threat of being apart makes you sit up and you go to your knees looking down at him. “No! Are you kidding? You can’t let that happen!” He seems surprised. “No! Zemo please! You have to do something!”

Why is he looking at you like that? Like you’re cute or sweet or any of the stupid things he says. You can’t stand it. “What’s that matter with you? Don’t you want to get away? Why would you give up like that!”

His eyes are fire but he doesn’t move and the way he just watches you makes you want to scream. “Seriously, why are we just sitting here? Get up, Get dressed! lets go back to Madripoor and hide”

He reaches for you but you swat his hand away which shocks him. The way he looks at you, you know that was a mistake. He grabs your wrist so hard you’re instantly missing the rope.

Zemo sits up and flips you onto your back, his hands holding your arms down. “I don’t run, I don’t hide. I make plans. And right now— this is my plan.”

“You’re a coward,” You toss out and look away, your heart racing as you try to accept that this may be the end of it.

He eases his hold on you and you dare to look up at him again. “Oh… I see.” He says very calmly, as though he’s only just realized something and sits up. “Yellow.”

“What?”

“Yellow.”

You are stunned. He’s never once used a color or a word. When he moves to the edge of the bed hanging his head you feel frantic with worry. “I’m so sorry! What did I do?” You try to make sense of it.

He glances over when you come to sit, legs curled under you at his side. “Nothing. I just need to slow this down.”

Your eyes are brimming with tears. This is not how you thought this night would end. “This? You mean me? Are you afraid of what’s happening? Not with them, the people looking for you. I mean with us? What can you see?”

He sighs and lays his hand on your thigh. “I think, maybe I’m not ready or worthy of the feelings you have. I have no business pretending to be a free man. My life is tied to my mission.”

“That’s not fair, you’ve kept me coming back to you for weeks!”

He looks up. “Yes, and it was wrong of me”

“No it wasn’t! It was wonderful. Zemo please. Don’t do this. Not now. Not here in a place I don’t know in a city that’s not mine or yours.”

He moves like he might get up, but you grab his arm. “How dare you!” He looks at you and you shrink back, but he doesn’t say a word. “How dare you make me feel this way and then tell me it was a mistake!”

He’s still just staring.

“What? Is it because you know? How I feel… You’re scared of me aren’t you” Your voice shakes with anger. “You’re scared to have someone love you again!”

He does get up then and walks to the windows.

There, you've said it.

He’s standing with his back to you and your eyes wander down the tense muscle of his back and arms lit by the lamp next to the bed. He crosses them and you want nothing more than to go and put your own arms around his broad shoulders but he’s being selfish. You can not reward that with love no matter how strongly you feel it.

“You’re still a coward if you can’t even face me. Look me in the eye and tell me again, Tell me you don’t want this."

You’re on your knees at the edge of the bed breathing hard, angry, hurt, scared… you can’t imagine having him only to loose him like this.

It feels like hours pass before he turns to you and the sight of him in the dark makes you groan softly from the absolute ache in your heart. The shadows that fall across his face only make him look more beautiful. You love him so much you could shove him out the window.

“Say it, say it and I’ll go” You whisper ignoring the tears that sparkle in your eyes.

His dark gaze is laser focused on you until finally he drops his arms and walks over to the bed.

His hand is around your throat and you grab his wrist, your eyes pleading as his go soft and he hangs his head for just a second. His brows angle down with the threat of sadness, but he squares his jaw and raises his head looking at you again.

“I want you to leave.” He says but you see his eye twitch and he almost breaks down. You know in that moment nothing has ever been further from the truth.

“I love you Helmut.” You whisper closing your two hands around his one, and he does crack then. That tough exterior didn’t stand a chance against the sledgehammer of your confession and he slides his hand away from your throat and up to your face, grabbing you by the chin jerking your forward.

“Go.” He insists.

“I’ve loved you for so long…”

“Leave.”

“And you love me too. I know you do.”

He seems furious but not with you. He’s at a loss for what to do, so he does the only thing he can and kisses you to stop himself from saying it back.

It’s a deep, slow kiss, that transfuses every ounce of pain he feels into you, and you inhale it, you suck it down wanting to free him of it. If this is your last night together then let it be a good one. “Show me.” You say, your lips still against his. He is kissing you down into the bed. “If you can’t say it, then show me you love me. Please Baron, show me like I know you want to.”

He has you on your back again and pauses, looking you in the eye as though you’ve just given him the green light. You feel a flash of fear, worried you’ve gone to far but you trust him, you know him, you love him.

Quickly Zemo grabs the black silk ribbon. “Put your hands over your head.”

You do instantly and bite your lip when he binds your wrists again, tighter this time. Once you’re secure, he sits up and opens the side table pulling out a blind fold. Its’ over your head and tossing you into darkness immediately.

He is silent again, you don’t feel him get back onto the bed and now you’re breathing quickly wondering where he’s gone. The anticipation is heightened with the truth of your love hanging low in the room.

And then his hands close around your ankles and you gasp loudly as he yanks you down over the bedding until your legs dangle over the edge. With your arms still above your head, you pull the fabric into your fingers to give yourself something to hold onto, but you won’t be needing it.

Zemo is surprisingly strong when you least expect it.

He grabs the rope and brings your arms down gently until your hands rest in a prayer like position between your breast and he pulls you up to sitting and onto your feet.

You stand there parting your lips after licking them, soothed by his light touch—his fingers trailing down your shoulders and along the low dip of your back— his hands rest on your ass lifting and squeezing the soft flesh just a bit.

When he puts an arm around your waist, you hinge forward a bit letting him hold you, the press of his thick cock at your entrance making you sway your hips a little like you want to swallow him.

The way he pushes inside is enough to make you melt in his arms. He is so slow about it. He wants you to feel every inch, he wants you to understand.

He loves you?

When he’s deep enough that your hips ache, he grabs your elbows and pulls your arms back, the rope rubbing into your skin.

Now he begins. It’s slow —long dragging pull, deep powerful push— back and forth at this speed that consumes you.

You still can’t see but of course this only makes the sensation better.

When his hold on your arms tighten, you suck your lip in bracing for it. The way he moves has your ass bouncing against his hips, and he moans deeply grabbing your own hip and thigh so hard you twist away and then he stops, pulling away.

You feel empty and confused, flexing like you’re trying to find the cock that isn’t there anymore.

Zemo grabs you and pushes you down onto the bed which makes your head spin. He pushes your knees apart and you feel too raw, too open after being fucked to lay here so exposed.

Your eyes are darting back and forth in the dark, your hands moving but unable to do much as you wait, until you feel the smack of something very small right down the center of your sensitive fold.

You cry out and realize that it's the tip of his belt. You moan and squirm fearing the pain, eager for more. You can picture it, him standing there with the strap wrapped around his hand watching you quiver and moan. Now you know why he started to fuck you. He wanted you alert, sensitive and soft to the pain.

Another strike and you close your knees only to feel the consequences as he strikes the tops of your thighs. “Legs open” He says softly.

With a whimper you do and he responds immediately letting that thick leather tap your clitoris until you’re panting, wanting to close your thighs as much as you open wider.

He lands a few more sharp flicks over your wet skin but when your moans change to true pain he stops and the room is silent except for you and the sounds that follow his attention.

When his mouth unexpectedly finds your pussy, you smile and sigh. He’s good with the transition from pain to pleasure and back again.

He licks your silky skin until the sting is soothed. He sucks your clit until you’ve all but forgotten about the spanking. He buries his face in the wet fold until you’re rocking your hips against his beautiful face and on the verge of climax, but he stops again.

That was just to prepare you. He unbinds your hands once more and you relax your arms.

“Move back on the bed.”

“I can’t see” You try.

“Move”

Obediently you turn and crawl back up towards the head of the bed a little hesitant, but you feel the pillows welcome you in and relax as you turn onto your back.

As you start to settle, Zemo is there, not giving you a second to get your bearings. Your legs are shoved apart and he spears you with an urgent momentum. The size and length of him taking your breath away for a second before you cry out, but it’s the good sort of scream. The kind that sends him over the edge and he proceeds to drive into you so hard, the bed moves away from the wall.

You thought he’d always fucked you hard, now you know better. This is the sort of deep penetration that will mark you as his.

He suddenly rips the blindfold off and your eyes open wide to find his bright with that fire you’ve only seen glimpses of before.

His hand slides along your thigh and under your knee which he lifts, bringing your leg up. He glances down to watch and you moan, knowing what he sees —you, tight and pink and stretched around him as he grinds into you so hard you can’t even moan— you can hardly breathe.

When you feel it start to build, you look up at him distracted by the muscle of his shoulders and chest as he moves. “Baron—please—may I come” You beg knowing you must always ask first.

“Yes” He growls and draws back to buck into you until your fingers dig into his shoulders. “Come” He says your name gazing down at you, his eyes steady as his body moves.

You press your head back into the pillow feeling the swell. Zemo lets go of your leg but you keep your knee bent and close. He cradles your face lowering to hover close with his open mouth grazing your own and you feel him getting harder. “Come for me,” He commands and slides his hand under your head lifting just enough to hold you so close that when the first wave hits and the contractions make your walls tighten and your clitoris throb, you feel any barriers between you fall away.

You realize he’s watching you, waiting as he feels it happen around him and then as your strongest pulse hits, he turns his head just enough so that his whisper is loud in your ear.

“I love you.” He breathes and watches you come.

You inhale as he exhales, shut your eyes and let your world implode. You don’t release —you devour. You chase the sound of his voice that has just said what he swore he couldn’t just as desperately as you try to prolong the orgasm that accompanied it and then he lets his head fall to the curve of your neck on the pillow and moans against you as every muscle in his body flexes. Another soft moan escapes him and you smile as warm ropes of come are shot into your belly with each pulse of his rigid cock and he clings to you like you are the one person who might save him from himself.

Your arms slowly close around him, you never want to let him go. You would do anything for this man, and you already have.

When he pulls back and you look at one another, he is the one to speak first.

“This was not a part of my plan.” He says sounded happily defeated and exhausted.

You grin and smooth his fallen hair from his eyes, your heart beating so hard your breast shake as you gaze up at him. Your Baron, the man you let claim you from the moment he first said hello. You feel him still hard inside of you and you’ve been in this position before —so many times— but never like this.

“Yes it was.” You say closing your eyes and his lips meet yours and your arms close around one another, content to stay this way a while longer.

_____________________________________________________________

Captain America and the fucking Winter Soldier. Scratch that. Apparently it’s just Bucky, or James if you’re Zemo.

But you’re you, and you’re in over your head yet again.

Sitting in your seat on the plane you go over everything in your head one last time —driving here, finding them waiting, Zemo inviting them on the plane in exchange for his continued freedom— you thought he’d lost his mind but the way he looked at you as Sam and Bucky boarded, you realized he knows exactly what he's doing.

Now it’s late, You’ve been flying for hours and soon you’ll touch down safely in Madripoor which is exactly where all three of these men need to be.

Apparently the card Zemo found on Polinsky had the Power Brokers logo on it. Zemo is angry that he’d missed the clues before this, but is happy that he and in turn Sam and James are on the right track to finding the serum and stopping the Flag Smashers. While they are not friends, currently you're all on the same team.

Still, you think it all sounds dangerous, but no more so than life normally does.

As far as your new traveling companions, well, Sam is actually funny. You like the way he doesn’t tolerate Zemo’s shit. He’ll make a fantastic super hero you think with a sly grin.

But Bucky... James.

He makes you smile in a different way.

Yes, you love Helmut, you feel it in your bones you care for that man so deeply, but Bucky stirs things you that you have to force yours to ignore. His smile which he doesn't give easily makes you want to break the rules. When he talks you lean in, somewhat awed by his vintage charm and stoic reserve. Not to mention that metal arm that you keep eyeing.

When you wake up and see him quietly looking out the window as you fly through the night, you get his attention and strike up a reserved, but easy conversation. He may be the enemy but not so much so that you can't pass the time. You quietly chat while Zemo and Sam sleep and you realize not only is Bucky cute —cute? No he's classically handsome— he's actually a nice person, which is a real mind fuck as you had every intention of giving him and Sam the cold shoulder the entire time. He does after all want to take Zemo from you once they're done with him.

He also seems to be judging you a bit for your relationship with the man they call a terrorist, but you don't mind. Your love is unconventional in many ways. Bucky picks up on this and leaves it alone, but he does a poor job of not making a face when you talk about your life with Zemo when he asks how you ended up here.

You laugh at the way he eyes your sleeping Baron only to realize Zemo isn't asleep at all. He's watching you, both of you and the look on his face is a warning. You assume it's because you've broken rule one, even though you did try very hard not too.

"Go and sit in back." Zemo tells you.

You bow your head and unbuckle, quietly doing as you've been told. Just before you pass him completely, Zemo catches your hand and pulls you down to kiss you and asks softly. "Are you wearing them?"

You bite your lip but nod. "Yes Baron."

"Good," He strokes your face with the back of his hand and you almost continue to your new seat, but he turns his hand, gripping your face and pushes his finger into your mouth. He gives you a look and you know what to do, no matter how humiliating. You suck him just a little as he turns to look at Bucky, as if to show the former solder exactly who you are.

His.

When Zemo pulls away, you press your own fingers to your lips, surprised but excited as you go to the lonely seat in the back and wait, knowing it's only a matter of time before you're forced into an orgasm that only Bucky will be able to see.

The poor man looks confused to say the least, he can't grasp how you, a grown woman, here of her own free will could suddenly become this silent and submissive thing that does as the Baron says, but when Zemo looks at him, and you can practically sense the exchange between the two men, Bucky looks you in the eyes with the first real smile you've seen on his face, and you know that he will understand soon enough.

I know, that was a long one. Thanks for sticking around. Hope you enjoy!

@fictionlandslanddreams

#baron zemo fanfiction #zemo x reader #baron zemo x you #helmut zemo #declarations of love #zemo smut #light angst

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angeli-marco-writes · 3 years

Text

∘◦ ღ ◦∘ Harrison Osterfield - Quarantine ∘◦ ღ ◦∘

A/N - I wrote this during the first lockdown that Britain were in. ow we’re in the third, and almost a year later, I’m uploading this onto my Tumblr from my Wattpad. And yes, before everyone says it, I am fully aware that the Holland’s and Haz were isolating in two different houses and haven’t been living together for months, but this makes it more amusing, and as I say, it was written a while ago. I do not know Harrison, nor do I claim to; this is a work of fiction and entirely my own.

Warnings - cursing, smut, detailed sex, cockwarming, oral, kinky names, mentions of sleeping around... you know the drill by now.

Summary - Quarantine with a bunch of sex deprived twenty-odd year old boys isn’t your idea of fun, especially not when the only one you want refuses to pay even the slightest bit of attention. Taking measures into your own hands is only simple until you get caught.

YOU AREN’T SURE HOW, but in some strange twist of fate, you’ve ended up in self isolation with the Holland’s. But it doesn’t end there, no, not just the Holland’s, but Harrison and Tuwaine too.

You have a bed in the attic, the other side of Harrison’s room, but you’re hardly sleeping in it. Seeing as you’re the only girl among an entire collection of (ahem, horny) and barely adult boys, you were most certainly on their beckon call. You didn’t mind being called to Sam, Harry’s, even Tom’s rooms late at night; you simply wished that you'd be asked to sleep with the one you actually wanted. Harrison.

You and he had been friends as long as you could remember, neighbours from age 4 and friends ever since. Even through uni when you studied a double major and you had zero free time, he was still constant in your life. You’d met Tom and the boys, the twins being closer to your age, and gotten on with them all as well. It just so happened that you ended up on a job with Mr Holland, and that’s what brought all of you closer together with you being in their house often to work on this project it also just so happened that you’d been hanging around with them all when lockdown was announced, leaving you to be in trouble if you drove halfway across London to your own home, so they invited you to stay and had any and all necessary items mailed to you by your roommate. You were only trusted to stay with Harrison after your history together and nothing ever having come of you two, though Mrs Holland did not trust the other boys enough with you and therefore did a bed check every night and every morning to make sure you were alone, though it was always a deceitful check on everyone’s behalf.

You didn’t thank Tom, Sam or Harry post-sex since you’d always have to return to your own cold bed, next to a sleeping Harrison, a sleeping Harrison who wouldn’t dare use you as a booty call like the other three did. It was safe to say that Harrison also had no idea of your truancies since he slept like a light and no one would discuss your actions at the dinner table to save your dignity, and their own necks.

Tonight though, you have other plans. Harrison has some papers to look through and will therefore be sitting at his desk, procrastinating before his computer for hours, only to be left to flick through the contract at an utterly ungodly hour, and he’d proceed to sleep tomorrow, all throughout the day. You were going to help him relax: maybe a massage, a cuddle, a blunt. Or you’d sit on his lap, watch to see whether he’d tense or relax beneath your bare legs, or whether he’d pick up on whose shirt you were to wear. That was the only tell: you’d steal a shirt from each brother to wear as a mark the next day, but you’d simply claim they were more comfortable than your own tight fitting button downs and crop tops. Harrison hadn’t noticed, not yet though as far as you knew, but each brother wore a slight smirk every day that you wore their shirt.

It hurt that Harrison wouldn’t be able to tell with his usual obliviousness, but you’d shower before seeing to him tonight, and wear one of his shirts so that when he got it back it might smell like you, a scent he claimed to enjoy.

As soon as dinner finishes, you leap away from the three boys all vying for your attention.

“I have work to do, and a shower to have. Plus, I’m tired.” You respond to all three on your journey up the stairs, hearing Harrison groan very loudly from the attic, followed by his head hitting the keyboard of his laptop. You smile sadly to yourself, a mix of nervous anticipation and excitement expelling from your body while the water lashes at your skin, soothing any pain or fear you may be feeling. You increase the heat, allowing the steam to fill your pores as you lean your head forwards to keep your hair dry, held in a messy bun.

You imagine his touch all over your bare body, his finger tracing your jaw, but a knock on the door and a yell to hurry up snaps you from your trance, making you turn off the water and wrap a soft towel (that you know to be Harrison’s) around yourself. You scowl at Harry on your way out, in response to which he sticks his tongue out childishly.

You end up mostly dry after taking a longer than usual walk up the steps to the attic, lingering on each one until the balls of your feet become sore. You peek your head around the door, only to see Harrison in a hoodie and boxers, a grimace on his lips while attacking his keyboard with a ferocity that you’ve scarcely seen. His anger causes you to furrow your brows, silently wishing that you succeed in calming him instead of making him feel worse.

You slip into a pair of panties and grab your favourite of his shirts off one of the hangers. You pull out your phone under a guise if he spots you, absentmindedly scrolling through your feed while eyeing Harrison. He slows his typing and begins clicking his mouse at the screen slowly, intently reading the reams of white on his laptop.

It’s time, you tell yourself, standing up from the bed and walking behind him. You place your hands on his shoulders, splaying your fingers and digging your thumbs in. Harrison’s body goes lax, his hands falling from the laptop to the desk, laying his hands flat on the wood. He lets out a groan and rolls his head back, falling right onto the pillow of your chest. You continue to rub his shoulders, enjoying the way he’s slowly relaxing under your therapeutic touch, that is until he swats you away with a small, sad smile. You sigh, having none of it, and crawl your hands down to the hem of his hoodie.

“What are you doing?” He asks, his tone dripping with boredom. “I have this contract to read, you know I do.”

“Exactly.” You reply after thinking for a moment. You want to say the right thing, you want this to go seamlessly, so every word has to be perfect, not to mention every action.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t battle against your bid to remove his hoodie, and obligingly lifts his arms up over his head so that you can pull his jumper off. You toss it to the side and hear something fall to the floor, but that’s somehow the least of your concerns. You reward Harrison with a kiss to the soft, unblemished skin of his neck - but it won’t stay that way, not for much longer.

You thread your fingers into his beautiful brown locks and tug a little, just to let him know that you mean business. His lips part as though intending to let out a groan of some kind, but it doesn’t come, so with disappointment you continue to play with his hair the way you love to. He doesn’t stop you, so that’s something, right?

When he hasn’t given you attention for too long, albeit about five minutes, you walk around in front of him. His eyes are forced to retrain from his screen to where your breasts show in his top. Apparently, going braless in one of his tops has its perks, not talking about your nipples.

“Looks good on you,” he murmurs. He pushes his chair out and gestures for you to drape yourself over his legs and lap, which you do more than willingly while wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging at the wonderfully soft curls at the nape.

“I know this isn’t ideal, you need to do proper work and be having contact with your girls, but I’ll get you out soon, I know the boys are a lot.”

You simply hum in acknowledgement, adjusting your seat on his bare legs. Skin on skin, electrifying in every sense of the word.

“That is why you’re doing this, right?” He asks, nervously almost, and you instantly feel as though you’re molesting him, until he wraps his strong arms around your back. You could moan at the contact, his muscles tensing all around you, the feel of Harrison and his smell radiating around you, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

You move your hands to his shoulders and begin to massage again, just from the front this time, a feeble attempt to procrastinate against your goal. Harrison’s gone back to reading his screen, so while he’s still gathering what he’s reading, it’s your only shot.

You twist on his lap until you’re completely straddling him, your forehead pressed to his. The beautiful blue-green of his eyes sends you into a trance, melting your insides. You can swear that you see him nod a little, so you begin to move your hips. You grind and swirl on his lap, undulating your hips in a perfect figure of eight when you feel him harden beneath you.

With your ministrations paused momentarily, you take a sharp intake of breath and say, “This was never about attention because I’ve been stuck with the boys, this is because I want you.”

Harrison’s face instantly melts into an expression of relief, a goofy smile on his (what you hope to be) soft lips.

“I thought you didn’t want me because you were sleeping with the others,” he says, and you shake your head, tears of relief and happiness almost spilling from your eyes. You feel warm and fuzzy despite the guilt, shame and anger bubbling from your truancies with the Holland boys.

“You knew then?”

“How couldn’t I?” He remarks, “you’re all they talk about when there’s no adults and no Paddy in the room. What they did to you, how many times they made you cry out their names, the marks they tried to leave on you until your own dominant side came out. Every conversation I had to excuse myself out of mainly respect from you, because what they said upset me but I just couldn’t say so, but then I just came up here and imagined what you’d be doing to me.” Your heart hitches in your throat, butterflies filling your stomach and travelling into your every limb, making your skin tingle. Your stomach rises in goosebumps, as does the skin of your thighs, and you notice that it’s because Harrison has his hands underneath your (his) shirt, and he’s skimming over your waist and legs, holding you and savouring the feel of your skin beneath him. He kisses your neck, once, twice, and it’s gone.

He turns back to his computer and continues his work, looking over your shoulder and letting his eyes train every tiny black line of script on his screen. Your neediness is at an all time high, one hand resting absently on your hip, just above your bum while his other hand clicks at his keyboard and mouse like it’s second nature. The speed of his fingers makes you even needier, craving for him to be inside you already, so you climb onto his bare thigh and trap it between your own.

You dig your hips down into his leg, grinding and aching for friction, and you already know that you’re dripping onto his skin. The fine hair on his thighs gives a delicious amount of friction - not too much but not too little. As you go further, your mouth parts a little more, allowing you to let out a strangled whimper. Your thigh brushes Harrison’s cock through his boxers, and you feel his hand grip your waist tighter, almost painfully.

Your pussy starts throbbing, aching for more of him, while your hands rake his back, leaving scratch marks in their wake. Your head falls to the crook of Harrison’s neck as you approach your high, moving your hips more fervently and letting out moans is anticipation. You wonder if Harrison is even able to pay attention to his contract anymore with what you’re doing to him, but that thought is set to rest when you’re right on the edge, but both of his hands grip your hips and move you off his thigh, the skin glistening with your essence.

For a minute, you think he’ll be angry, make you clean it up, but instead he just kisses you. His lips catch yours more desperately than you could’ve dreamt, immediately biting down on your lower lip, trapped inside his mouth. You let out the loudest moan you could in the moment, but Harrison finds it heavenly, delving his tongue into your mouth to deepen the kiss while his hands grip your ass. He pulls away, looking at you with those puppy eyes that he knows you can’t resist.

“Sit on my cock? Just ‘til I finish this section, then I’ll take you as hard as you want.”

You look sceptical, and Harrison can tell, you know because he kissed you again and moves his hands from your bum to wrap his arms around your whole body and keep you close to him. His lips pressed against your own is enough convincing, so you move your panties aside and accommodate while Harrison takes his boxers off.

When he does, you’re surprised at how big he is, bigger than any of the lads you’ve been with before. Long and substantial, you want to drool just looking at his dick standing proud against his stomach. Nervously, you slide down on him. His girth stretches your every wall and his tip hits new spots until finally you’re balls deep. He groans and exhales, eyes closed while trying to gather his bearings.

“Fuck.” He says. “Your cunt bottomed out on my cock, keeping me warm and hard, you’re an angel.”

His words drive you crazy, making you moan and involuntarily clench around him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. You wrap yourself around him like a koala bear, craving to have as much skin to skin contact as is possible. Your head lays on his chest to stay out of his way, and he seems thankful to be able to see the screen but also feel you.

You stay seated on Harrison for no more than ten minutes as he taps away at his keyboard and scrolls through the pages. Occasionally he moves, stimulating you enough for you to gasp or tighten around him, and in those instances he kisses behind your ear.

You listen to his heart, slowing or increasing its speed depending on your movements. The steady heave of his chest moving with his breathing is strangely calming, making you feel closer to him, more stimulated and comforted, something like love.

Suddenly, his laptop slams shut and he thrusts up into you. You yelp a little and snap your head up, nose nudging with his and your lips grazing.

“You’ve been driving me crazy, and you’ve done it on purpose. Were you sleeping with the others to get my attention? Am I better than them already? Bigger?” You whimper, his words building a fire inside you. “You don’t have to answer, love, I can already tell by your body.”

You cling to him even tighter than before as he clears everything off his desk, breaking a pencil pot while he’s at it, and you can’t help but chuckle.

“You choose a desk to fuck me on when we have two beds up here, both of which will make a lot less noise?”

He looks downcast and releases a giggle. “Yeah, didn’t think of that.”

“It’s fine,” you say, cupping his jaw and caressing his stubbled cheek, “you can fuck me harder on this and let the boys know who I belong to tonight.”

He places you down beneath him on the desk, still hard inside you, but instead of attacking you again in a ferocious kiss, he looks down at you and marvels in your beauty just for a moment, his scrutiny surprisingly doesn’t phase you, it only makes you feel treasured, so as your eyes follow the movements of his rippling muscles, he smiles faintly and kisses you softly.

“Fuck me Haz,” you whisper, those simple words being all the motivation needed, because he pulls out, leaving you whining at the emptiness of only his twitching tip inside your core, but within seconds he pushes all the way back in.

He feels heavenly, your eyes rolling back into your head and a surprised moan leaving your lips. He smiles down at you before pulling out and thrusting back inside you, setting a steady pace. Every move feels like paradise, every jolt of his hips swindling shockwaves of pleasure through your craving body, having been desperate for him for a good while.

He feels heavenly inside you, his tip grazing that special spot inside you. “Harrison!” You cry, as quietly as you can. He leans down and pulls the neck of your (his) shirt down so that he can get access to your breast, immediately latching his lips onto your nipple, biting at it viciously while pressing his hands onto your spread thighs. You feel yourself approaching an edge, a timed coil curling inside your stomach as his ministrations continue.

He’s so much better than the others - not that they weren’t good, they have a basic idea of what to do with you and how to use you, and they’re decently sized, but they can’t make you feel the way Harrison can.

“I’m close...” you whisper between incoherent murmurs. He’s not too noisy, which may or may not be a blessing paired with the slamming and squeaking of the desk beneath your bodies, it’s mostly just breathy grunts and occasional curses.

“Me too, beautiful.” He dances his forefinger up your thigh and rubs circles around your wetness, allowing you to let go.

The coil within springs open, and you feel your body fall loose, vision blurring with stars in your eyes and core clenching around Harrison - it feels like heaven. Feeling this, he climaxes soon after you and to save from screaming, kisses you in a messy fight of teeth and tongues, half muffling the pornographic moans that would otherwise be bound to spill.

Harrison falls down onto you, chest heaving and breathless, but nonetheless he still places open mouthed kisses to your neck.

“I’ll wait for you to get your breath, shall I?” You tease while running your finger up and down his spine. He chuckles and climbs fully on top of you, cuddling you into his chest. “Well, now I can see why you don’t have a girlfriend yet. Can’t even go for one round without ending up flustered. Lucky that I’ll have you no matter.”

He hums into you, holding you and savouring the silence filled with only your breathing and a few sounds from downstairs, but soon the wood becomes too uncomfortable.

Harrison slips an arm beneath you and carries you across the room to his unmade bed, as opposed to your neatly tucked in one with your entire collection of clothes and makeup on top of the sheets, but his bed is probably comfier since he’s always in it.

“Round two?”

Your heart rate increases, a burning blush rising to the tips of your ears as well as a shy smile snaking its way across your lips, still swollen from Harrison’s attack, not to mention the swollen parts of your skin where he paid a little more attention, leaving marks and memories for days to come.

“I’d like to see you try.” You tease, keeping your cool resolve despite feeling anxious straddling him, his eyes flitting between your chest, eyes and lips, unsure of what to do or how to use his mouth, a definite rarity for someone like him.

He seems desperate, putting his hands on your hips and thirstily jolting his hips upwards - if you’d been a few inches further down, he would’ve been straight back inside you, and maybe that’s what he was hoping for.

“Any hole’s a goal, isn’t that what Tom says?”

He loves it when you tease him, that much you’re learnt over the years. Every girl he’s been with you’ve found a way to tease him about it, anything he says, anything he does, and he loves it since it usually ends in a play fight and him surrendering control of the tv remote to you. This time however, it ends in something far different.

He tugs the shirt up further and pulls you roughly so that your calves are either side of his neck, your once again dripping core hovering above his face and awaiting tongue.

“Only if it’s yours.” He says, his breath sending shockwaves through your body straight from your core.

His tongue deftly finds its way through your folds and inside your tensing cavern, and it feels heavenly. His nose nudges at your clit while his tongue laps up all around you, his lips working in tandem while his tongue dances inside you. The moans leaving your mouth are otherworldly noises that you’ve never quite made before, maybe because you’ve never sat on anyone’s face, never mind someone as experienced as Harrison, something that you’re now learning is far from a bad thing.

“Harrison!” You cry when he delves a little deeper. His eyes remain between your own and the way your boobs bounce inside his shirt while you squirm on top of him. Every noise the pair of you make masks the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs to the attic, and muffle the sound of knocking on the door.

Harrison’s mouth continues its assault on your needy heat, your one hand weaving into his hair while the other massages your breast through your shirt, bringing stimulation to your nipple and bringing your climax closer and closer...

“Haz, we get that you hate work but you really don’t have to make so much noise- OH MY FUCKING GOD!”

You freeze, your recently shut eyes shooting open and darting over to the door, ajar with Tom standing just over the threshold, staring right at the two of you with a face of horror and disgust. Harrison however, bites down on your sensitive nub in his state of shock, and your second orgasm washes over you in such a state of unexpected euphoria that you lose all your bearings.

You cry out Harrison’s name like a prayer, chanting it while he cleans you up, and it’s not for a solid minute after your climax ends that you realise Tom is still in the room with you, rendered speechless, mouth agape and dumbfounded.

When you clock what’s happening, you grasp Harrison’s duvet and yank it up to cover you both while you climb off Harrison’s face, his lips still glistening with your cum. He seems lost for words, too, blanching more and more with every passing second. He gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. No one moves, except for Harrison’s cock twitching under the duvet.

“It’s not what it looks like...” you say, your words getting lost in the thick tension of the room, like a rubber band pulled so tightly that it could snap at any given moment.

“Really? Because it looks like Harrison was just eating you out!”

You can’t fault Tom's logic, it is exactly what it looks like, so you just blush and pull the duvet up to your chin while wishing for a black hole to swallow you up.

You can’t help but notice how beautiful Harrison looks though, plump lips and that wonderful glint in his eyes, messy hair and no top.

“Ok, so it’s exactly what it looks like, surprise?” You can’t figure out what to say to him in the current situation, but instantly feel relaxed when Harrison begins to rub his palm up and down your thigh beneath the duvet .

“What- oh, this is why you called?” Sam now makes an appearance, folding his arms and standing next to a resolute Tom. You can’t decipher if he’s angry, amused or something else. “Our plan worked!” He suddenly shouts, and within seconds, Harry arrives beside the pair, a smirk on his lips.

“Really? So shagging Y/N and talking about it in front of me was all a ploy to get us together? And if so, why does Mr Fancy Pants here look so angry?” Harrison asks, and you can feel him willing his boner to wilt while in the presence of the brothers.

“Yes!” Comes paddy’s voice from the doorway, swiftly standing in front of Tom.

You smirk, but Harrison scowls, unable to accommodate this situation within his mind.

“He’s probably shocked because he walked in on you two... you know. But yeah, it was all a plan, sorry by the way.” Harry says, you just wave it off but Harrison’s grip on your leg tightens.

“Don’t be angry, it worked didn’t it?” Sam chimes in, patting Paddy on the back before making his way out.

Tom has to have the last word, you can see it on the settling lines on his forehead, so you brace yourself closer to Haz. “And don’t I bloody know that it worked!”

Maybe the drama was worth it for the laugh out of Tom’s reaction, though Harrison would argue with you there.

#harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield #haz osterfield #tom holland #tom holland imagine #haz osterfield smut #haz osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield smut #Simon and mark #Tom and haz #holland boys

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the-lady-of-stars · 3 years

Text

Feeling you

Din Djarin x Reader

A/N: I am writing some mega fluff as a warm up for the angst I’m gonna write later. This is my first time writing for Din so this is just me figuring out how to write his character. Please send in any requests for Din :)

Summary: You ask your boyfriend what he looks like under his helmet. Lots of soft Din plus a cheeky first kiss.

Night time had arrived, and you were laying with your head in Din’s lap as he sat on his cot. He was busy reading something off his holopad, mindlessly running his fingers through your hair. You gazed up at his helmet as he read, mind wandering to what he looked like underneath. You respected the way he followed the creed more than anything, and you’d never ask him to break it for you, but you still couldn’t help but wonder what he would look like underneath. Din had taken off all his beskar except his helmet, leaving him in nothing but a pair of sleep pants. Mind still turning, you reached up and brushed your fingers along the jagged scars that adorned his chest, trailing them over the puffy marks.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours, mesh’la?” Din cooed, the soft tone of his voice amplified by the modulator. He put his datapad aside on the bed to focus on you, trying to figure out what was causing the gentle smile that sat on your lips.

“Just thinking,” you replied, smile widening.

“Oh? And what would you happen to be thinking about, hmm?”

“You.”

“Me? What about me, pretty girl?”

“Your face. What you look like.”

Din paused for a moment, a brief panic washing over him. Did you want him to give up his creed? He didn’t blame you. Who could ever fall in love with a man without even knowing what he looks like. Din tensed, self-doubt building up in his stomach. He knew you felt him grow tense due to the furrowing of your brows, your lips pulling tight.

“Din?” you sat up to straddle his lap, and stroked the side of his neck, the Mandalorian leaning into the touch.

“I’m sorry I can’t give you more, cyar’ika. You shouldn’t have to wonder what your own boyfriend looks like,” he spoke softly, a sad lilt to his words. Din looked down, not wanting to meet your eyes through the visor.

“Hey, no,” you shushed him, “Din, look at me, my starlight.”

Ever so gently you tilted Din’s head up to face you, eyes tender and warm.

“Din, I love you. I love you more than anything. I don’t care if I never see your face, that doesn’t matter in the slightest. Never has. It’s you I care about. You took me in, let me stay with you and the baby. You gave me a family Din, someone to come home to. You’ve always looked after me, kept me safe, given me your heart. That’s all I could ever ask for. You make me so happy, Din. So happy.”

Din felt his heart racing, beating so hard like it was trying to jump out of his chest and straight to you. You already owned it, he knew that. The tears pricking at his eyes just confirmed it.

“Thank you,” was all he could bring himself to say, the words barely audible through the shaky breath, voice wavering through trembling lips.

You smiled, an affectionate smile which stole the breath from Din’s lungs. Taking his hand, you delicately brought it up to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

He couldn’t hold himself back anymore, pulling you into his chest, tucking your head under his chin.

“I love you,” he whispered, as though if he spoke too loudly you would disappear into the night like a dream.

“I love you too,” you matched the quietness of his voice.

Din held you close, mind racing when an idea popped into his head.

“Play a game with me, Cyare?”

“A game?” you questioned, untucking yourself from his neck to look at him.

“Mmhm,” he hummed. “A guessing game. You tell me what you think I look like and I’ll tell you if you’re right or wrong.”

You laughed lightly, the sound making Din’s pulse speed up.

“Okay, sure. A game,” you reaffirmed.

“Go ahead, sweetheart. What do you think I look like,” he purred, an element of amusement to his voice.

“Hmmm, well- the hair on your arms and chest is dark brown so I’m gonna assume it’s the same up top. Correct?”

“Uh huh. Good job, beautiful. What else?” you could tell Din was smiling from the sound of his voice.

“I assume you’ve got an awful case of helmet hair. With that thing on all the time it’s gotta be pretty scruffy looking,” you smirked.

Din laughed heartily at that, chest shaking.

“Scruffy lookin’? Who are you calling scruffy lookin’? You’ve never even seen me and you’re insulting my hair?” Din reached up and rubbed his hand over the top of your head lovingly, messing up your hair. You cackled, wiggling away from his hand.

“Okay, okay, fine,” you laughed, “I’m sure you’ve got beautifully styled hair and absolutely no trace of helmet hair whatsoever. Wait- are you bald? You could be! Do you shave your head?” You got excited, a wide grin spread across your face.

Din couldn’t contain his laughter this time, tipping his head back as his shoulders shook.

“N-no, no I’m not bald, Cyare,” he finally choked out when he regained his breath, still snickering.

“Okay great, scruffy brown tufts of helmet hair it is then. Final guess.”

“Final guess? You sure? Going with helmet hair?” he beamed.

“Yup!”

“Yeah okay you’re right. I’ll give you that one. But to be fair there aren’t all that many products to keep your hair smooth under a bucket.”

You bothed laughed again before Din prompted you to guess his eye colour.

“I always imagined them brown as well. Like a dark brown. Am I right?”

“On the dot, Cyare. You sure you haven’t been taking a peek while I’m asleep?” he joked, pinching your cheek playfully.

“Ooh! What about facial hair! Do you have a beard? I’ve been imagining stubble but maybe you’ve got a goatee or something, I don’t know. But if we are sticking with the scruffy rogue bounty hunter look I’m gonna go with some stubble. Very sexy, if you ask me.”

The more you spoke the harder Din laughed, his hands gripping your waist.

“Sexy, scruffy rogue bounty hunter. Should add that one to my resume. I’m gonna take that as a compliment and say yes to the stubble- as tempting as it is to grow out a goatee.”

“Hey I think goatees are great, I won’t stop you,” you snorted.

“Well?” Din prompted. “Happy with what you’ve learned?”

“Oh definitely. I love whatever it is you’ve got going on under there.”

Din chuckled, leaning in to pull you into a Keldabe kiss.

“I wish I could kiss you properly,” he sighed. Suddenly Din froze, pulling away slightly.

“What is it?” you asked, noticing how hard he was thinking.

“I’ve got an idea,” he spoke. “Stay there.”

Din rose and began to turn off all the artificial lights, making sure you were swamped by the pitch black darkness of night. He covered the viewport with the small curtain, blocking out the light of the stars.

“Din, what are you doing, I can’t see a thing!” you called out.

“That’s the point,” he replied, making you jump from how close he had gotten without you knowing. “You can’t see me at all, right?”

“No, not in the slightest.”

“Great, so if I were to do this-” the next thing you heard was the hiss of Din’s helmet being removed, and a thunk as he set it down on the floor by the bed. You gasped, realising what he was going to do.

“Din, what-”

He shushed you gently. “Nothing’s keeping us apart now,” the sound of Din’s unmodulated voice wracked your body with goosebumps. He could feel your skin prick up beneath his hands as he lay them on your upper arms. “I can finally give you everything you deserve, and I don’t need to break my creed to do it.”

“Din-” your voice wavered, hands beginning to tremble. It was finally happening. Din was here in front of you, his face exposed, more vulnerable than he had ever been yet feeling so right. He trusted you so much, letting down his guard for you only. His hands slid from your upper arms to meet your hands with his, carefully bringing them up to meet his face. There was no resistance this time, no cold metal barrier to block you from the warmth of his skin. Your breath hitched as your fingers met short stubble, the gentle scratch pleasant, familiar despite being new.

“I’m here, Cyar’ika. I’m all yours, every part of me.”

Slowly you moved your hands to trace his features, running over his jaw, across his cheekbones, up to his brow. He was perfect. Everything you had ever dreamed. Your lack of vision made you more sensitive to every touch, more goosebumps pricking your skin as his eyelashes fluttered against the side of your thumb. Your final destination was his lips, tracing your thumb across his lower one, the smooth, plump skin trembling beneath your touch.

“Din,” you spoke for the third time, his name the only word you could muster. The word left your lips more as a sigh than speech.

“Kiss me,” he breathed, the words sending a shiver through both of you.

You couldn’t stay apart from him any longer, tilting your head to unite yourselves as one. His lips pressed smoothly into yours as though they had been made to fit, tenderly meeting each other with all the love in the world. You heard Din’s breath hitch, his hands wrapping around you to pull you into his lap. You cupped his jaw, thumbs stroking it adoringly. Neither of you even thought of separating, moving your lips together in a wordless declaration of love. After a moment you were both robbed of breath, having to pull away to pant against each others mouths, foreheads pressed together, eyes closed.

You didn’t move from that position until the next morning, spending the whole night straddling Din’s lap, making up for all the kisses that you hadn’t shared before. Your Mandalorian loved you, and he’d do anything to prove that until his dying day.

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader

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oogaboogasphincter · 3 years

Text

A Magpie, a Goose and a Sparrow Walk into a Found Family Trope (Ezra x f!reader)

Summary: A nightmare caused by trauma he endured before and on The Green haunts Ezra one night, his fear bleeding into reality. Under the fog of sleep, he hurts you, thinking you are the monster that is endangering you, Cee and himself while on your next trip. He apologizes by doing something that terrifies him: opening his heart up to another person.

Word Count: 10.7k+ (holy shit i deeply apologize for putting my readers through this agonizingly long junk)

Rating: M (mature) just to be safe (some pretty intense themes but i don’t think there’s anything too explicit)

Warnings: non-fatal manual strangulation and bruises from it, swearing, sexualization of two adults, mild references to sex, mild allusions to sexual arousal, discussion of trauma and its effects, Prospect (2018) spoilers, some argument, hair braiding, one (1) ✨neck✨ kiss, one use of (y/n), sprinkles of that sexual tension we all love, a resolved ending!

Author’s Note: first off, thank you SO much to @martinsmomo for this request!💜💕 this was so creative, i hope i did it justice :). second, AHHH!!!!! my first piece ever!!! i haven’t written anything on my own time for my own enjoyment since i was like 13, which may or may not be apparent by my comma splices, repetitive sentence structure/word choice and disagreeing verb tense💀. the thought of i have no idea what i'm doing never left my mind while i was writing this, but i just tried to go with it and have fun :). ALSO, i had so much fun reading all of the lore about the world that Prospect (2018) takes place in. Here is a link to a pamphlet about a lot of stuff that is featured in the movie, which i used while writing this piece. i highly recommend you check it out! i tried to stick to as much canon stuff as i could, but 🦋The Blue🦋 is something that i made up. also this is not beta’d, i just wanted to throw this into the void and see what happens✨. i also also want to point out that in no way am i trying to romanticize or sexualize domestic violence. i know that the subject matter in this piece can be triggering, and even though the violence wasn’t intentional and it’s resolved through love, i don’t want it to be misconstrued as something that it’s not. with that being said, i hope you enjoy it! :)

gif by @anakin-skywalker

A grunt stirs you from your deep slumber. Your eyes open easily, a treat that you weren’t given often due to the dryness of the pod’s recirculated air. The inside of your shared galactic chamber is as dark as your mind; no illumination to shine on your thoughts and wake them up or to show you how Ezra is doing. You know the grunt had come from him, as the only other passenger was his adopted daughter, Cee. You turn in your pilot’s chair, looking over your shoulder to try and make him out through the impossible darkness.

Parcel-Class Planetary Drop Pods were designed to fit only two travelers, however the three of you had decided to embark on your next journey together. To save on costs, your partners opted for a model without cots. Being the gentleman that he is, Ezra insisted that you and Cee sleep in the pilots’ chairs. He had thrown a few blankets on the cold, flat floor and had proudly announced, “Sleeping quarters fit for a king!”, eliciting pitiful laughter from you and Cee.

Now, your eyes can’t find the sad bundle of warmth that is his sleeping figure. He is a restless sleeper, and every time he made a noise that was more than a good-natured hum or a soft swish of rearranging his blankets, you would wake and turn to make sure that he was okay. You would do the same for Cee, but she was a fantastic sleeper. Not too deep, not too light, and never made a peep. You turn back around, giving up on trying to spot Ezra in the dark, when you hear another grunt.

This one is louder than the last.

You turn back around yet again, your own blanket falling off of your chest and into your lap. Eyebrows furrowing together and eyes squinting, your pupils strain themselves to find any shred of light to let you see. The noises increase in abundance and volume. Ezra’s sleeping fit has transformed from a halfhearted rustling to an aggravated clamor in less than a minute. Your eyes stay on the dark patch of space where you know his “bed” is situated while Cee arises from her sleep. Her chair lets out the slightest creak as she follows your gaze and attempts herself to see what all of the commotion is about. She asks you, “Is he okay?” Ezra answers her with an irritated growl through his teeth. You say to her, “I don’t know, I can’t see him, should we-”

Your suggestion of waking him up is cut short as two hands wrap around your throat. The hands twist your head to face forward, and you’re greeted with Ezra’s sweat-slicken face. Instinctively, you grasp at his forearms in an effort to ease the constriction of your neck.

Cee screams, “Ezra, let go of her!”

He defies her command and puts one of his knees in between yours on the seat of the pilot’s chair and leans closer to you. The brown eyes that you had grown to love now bore into yours with unwavering menace as the pads of his fingers press harder into the sides of your neck. His palms are flush with your larynx, threatening to crush it. You want to let out sobs of heartbreak, but are unable to. He’s restricted your actions to only being able to watch him attempt to strangle you. Your fingers aren’t able to get a grip on his limbs due to his angry sweat and your panicked claminess. Your mouth hangs open as his is shut tight, his jaw muscles stuttering with intense rage. He starts to growl through his teeth again, but a flash of light turns it into a howl.

His entire body falls back, his hands losing their purchase on your neck. You suck in a harsh breath and lean forward as Cee grabs your hand and pulls you out of the pilot’s chair. In her other hand she grips a Boscelot Frontiersman: the source of the light that had extracted Ezra’s shriek and drilled its way into his thigh. He sat on the floor in front of your chair and laced his hands just above his injury, throwing his head back and wincing.

Cee puts some feet in between the two of you and guides you across the floor to the other side of the impossibly small pod. Hoarse coughs begin to rise from your surprised larynx, accompanied by trembling of your entire body. Cee, still holding you by your arm with one hand and the Thrower in the other, yells your thoughts at Ezra, “What the fuck was that for?!” She flicks the lights on, allowing everyone to see each other’s face for the first time all night.

Ezra stares at the two of you in disbelief. Both brunette and blonde strands of hair are stuck to his forehead with sweat, eyes depressed from the subsiding adrenaline, his whole body drenched in distressed perspiration. You and him lock eyes, even through your flailing about as you continue to choke on air and delicately place your own hands over where his just had you in a vice grip. He knows what he’s done as soon as he sees you. He begins to cry and opens his mouth to start an apology that can never be adequate, but Cee hurls a field kit at his head. It hits him and he takes the blow without complaint. His devastated eyes keep to your bloodshot ones as he opens up the kit and starts to treat his justified wound. Cee stares at him with aggravation, and so do you, but her expression is void of confusion.

You are confused as all hell. What could have possibly made him do that? He seemed to be having a nightmare, but that didn’t give him the excuse to nearly strangle you to death.

Your coughs and stress start to dwindle as all of you sit there, not saying a word, the only other noise in the room being Ezra opening and closing medical supplies. He squirts a sanitizing solution over his wound, hissing, and then he takes out a Patch Gun. This sets your heart racing. The strangling was unpredicted and almost successful, would he get up once he was healed enough and try to do it again? You push yourself back against the wall and keep your widening eyes on him as he sprays the medicated foam into the hole the Thrower had burned through his trousers. He squeezes his eyes shut, winces intensely, and then fails to keep a painful wail inside his chest. You’ve seen him treat himself before, and usually his next step is to throw more than the recommended amount of pain relievers into his mouth and chew on the tablets, redirecting the pain from his injury to his mouth. He doesn’t do that this time.

Instead he throws the used Patch Gun to the side, closes the field kit and pushes it Cee’s way. He breathes your name out of his mouth, causing you to retreat further into the wall. You bring your legs to your chest and wrap your hands around the back of your neck, resting your elbows on your quaking kneecaps. Burrowing your face into the cavity you’ve created, you start bawling. Pain sears your throat, and is only intensified by your sobs, but you can’t help it. You’re absolutely terrified. Ezra says your name again, genuine with care, in an effort to get you to look at him. You shake your head once and continue to gasp into yourself. Cee startles you by touching your shoulder, and she quells your worries, “He won’t do it again.”

Her five simple words plant a seedling of peace in your heart, but it is nowhere near close to blooming. You don’t look up as she gets up and goes over to your pilot chair and grabs your blankets. Her footsteps return to you quickly, and within moments her warm, calm hands are draping the fabric over your shoulders. She rests her chin on your shoulder, moving with your heaves. A softening tone takes over her beautiful voice as she murmurs “It’s okay”s, “I’m here”s and “You’re safe”s into your blankets. Before you know it, your body succumbs to the overwhelming desire to heal mentally, emotionally and physically with sleep. Your trust in Ezra may be broken right now, but you know that Cee will watch over you. Despite her lack of size and experience compared to Ezra, you know she has the upper hand on him intellectually. He may be full of wondrous prose, a never-ending vocabulary and sharp wit, but Cee has had him in the palm of her hand ever since they met. You can sleep knowing that she can protect you and herself, if need be.

You peek out underneath your arm to qualify to yourself that Ezra is in no shape to attack again.

He sits where he landed when he fell, slouching with exhaustion. His eyes sparkle with tears of regret, his eyebrows quirked in a way that reads “There aren’t enough ways to apologize, but I’ll try every one until you forgive me.” You close your eyes, lay your head against the wall and beg the Sandman to bring you all a night of peace as you rest until the Sun comes up.

The pale blue morning light penetrates your eyelids and alerts your brain that it is time to get up. You awake to find Cee and Ezra sound asleep, her in her pilot’s chair and him in his “bed”. You are still huddled up against the wall, opposite to Ezra, and look upon him with a wary gaze. The fear he inserted into you last night makes your nerves feel like static, but at the same time you can’t help but be relaxed by his presence. It’s obvious he didn’t cause any more damage during rest of the night, so maybe his eyebrows were telling the truth: that he is sorry.

The muted sunshine washes his complexion out and dulls the warmth that his chestnut locks hold. It makes the blonde patch in his hair and the arc scar on his cheek glisten cerulean. His expression is relaxed, eyelids fidgeting under the controls of REM sleep.

The sound of Cee’s alarm clock distracts you, and moments later her hand reaches out and pushes the ‘stop’ button. Awakening limbs appear above the back of her chair, accompanied by a yawn. Your eyes dart to Ezra. He’s still asleep. She turns to you first and smiles, “Are you alright?” You nod once, return her smile, and you both turn to the slumbering man. She says, folding her blanket, “He’s fine. Calmed down after you fell asleep. He said he had a nightmare that you had turned against us. He said he wants to apologize but understands if you don’t want to speak to him.” You sigh through your nose, glancing over at him, “That’s okay. I think I would like some time away from him though. Just to process things, y’know?” Cee turns to face you, “That’s what I figured. I told him that.” You look at her and nod once.

She gets up and stretches again, folded blanket still in hand. She puts it on her seat and looks up at you excitedly, “Want to come look for aurelac with me today?”

“Definitely.”

Her face lights up with a wide smile and you mirror her reaction. Getting up and dropping your blankets to the floor, you go over to the compartment in the wall that holds your equipment. You take out what you’ll need - suit, helmet, air filter and a few Slurry Packs - and close the latch. The door slams shut harder than you intended, the resulting crash jolting Ezra awake.

A shy, apologetic smile graces his face as he meets your eyes, and you return the expression. You were still tightly wound, but were ready to start dispelling the fear, and that began by being cordial with him. His smile fades when his eyes lower to your hands and take in what you are holding. He gets up off the floor and inquires, “What do you have all that for?” His expression is neutral, but you worry that you will anger him by telling him what your plans are.

He had made it very clear since you joined him and Cee that he did not want you to prospect. He had told you that it was too dangerous of a task in itself, let alone the implications that came along with it: bartering, lying, gambling, stealing, killing. He didn’t want you or Cee to be subjected to any any of the horrors that accompanied prospecting, but Cee had been stubborn about her desires and had proven her abilities. She was great at prospecting, possessing an attention to tedium and an unwavering sense of calmness while performing the task. For a man who seeps with wisdom, Ezra wasn’t all that good of a prospector. He had the tendency to lose patience and cripple under pressure, which sometimes led to compromised digs.

“I’m going to look for aurelac deposits with Cee.” You nudge your head in her direction and she smiles at Ezra. He waves his hand dismissively, “That’s all fine and dandy,” now pointing a lazy yet warning finger at you, “But don’t you dare let prospecting dance upon those beautiful brain waves of yours.” His comment irritated you. You had never shown any signs of true disobedience to his wishes, besides the casual sigh of boredom or the bratty roll of your eyes. The words also set your heart aflutter. As you try to hide your blush and bury your annoyance, Cee says to him, “We don’t be doing any prospecting if we can’t find any aurelac.” His head tilts in agreement. He pads over to you and gingerly puts a hand on your shoulder. He had sensed your irritation and repeats his mantra of why he doesn’t want you prospecting, “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Your anger became fiery again. Shoulder jerking to flick his hand off, you jab at him, “Because I’m safe in the confines of the pod?”

He points a finger at you again, this time accusatory, “That was purely an accident. Do not take it as anything but.”

Cee commands, “Both of you, stop, now. I’m not dealing with this all day. It was an accident. An inexcusable one, but an accident.”

Your and Ezra’s eyebrows had shifted to take on the same irate slope, however you both decide to just let it drop. You visibly signal your concession by dropping your shoulders and Ezra reflects you. He spins on his heels to open his own equipment hatch, and you turn to the wall yours is on. You all face the walls and change into your suits, a ritual of trust and time efficiency you decided on when the three of you agreed to work as a group.

Once dressed, you exit the pod, Ezra being first and Cee being last, and embark on your daily journey. The Sun had retreated behind some dark grey clouds. The sky was a royal blue, the ground was greige and the dark foliage that surround you drips with dew. You were stationed on the Blue Moon, an orbiting moon in the Bakhroma System. This place wasn’t highly traveled like its permanent sister (the Green Moon), due to the popular aftermath of the Aurelac Rush. Although Cee and Ezra had been there and left, many people in the galaxy still went to try and scoop up some valuable remains. Unlike The Green, The Blue wasn’t known for its abundant aurelac deposits, which is precisely why your partners chose to come here.

Their original plan was to travel to The Blue with just themselves, but while on a stop to Puggart Bench you had entranced Ezra while Cee tried to scope out her old friends and catch up with them before she set off on another mission. Demonstrating your eagerness to explore the galaxy and your expansive knowledge of it, Ezra decided to add you to his partnership. It didn’t hurt that you also tried to express your attraction to him, complimenting the rugged floater on his impressive vocabulary. He had complimented you on your willingness to listen to his ramblings, and it had been love ever since. Neither of you had come out directly and said “I love you”, and you hadn’t partaken in any physical affection, but your yearning for each other could not be more understood. His adoration for you only deepened when he saw how you interacted with Cee. Being closer to her generation than Ezra’s, you were able to connect with her like contemporaries. However, you were far enough away from her age group to the point where Ezra couldn’t act as a father figure to you. This duality made you irresistible to him.

Back to the present, you gaze at the back of his helmet intently, waiting to see what his plan of action for the day is. The Green requires visitors to wear air-tight suits and breathe through air filtration systems at all times because of harmful spores that float in the atmosphere. The Blue’s spores are far less harmful, and helmets can be taken off for 45 minute intervals, but the three of you only took them off when the confinement of the helmets became a little too much. The glass window of Ezra’s helmet swivels to you and he asks, “Split up, hourly check-ins, reconvene for lunch?”

As you’re thinking of your answer, you notice his eyes dart repeatedly up and down your body. You can tell by the way his mouth is slightly parted that he isn’t assessing your body language to predict your response. He’s thinking about all of the ways he would devour you for apology’s sake.

You look to Cee in the middle of your answer, “Sure. I’ll go with Cee today.” She smiles at you and turns to him. His mouth closes and he looks down to fiddle with his radio with thick-gloved fingers, “I’ll be on channel one.” Cee says, “Okay,” and beckons you to follow her as she sets off on a worn path. You and Ezra look at each other one more time before you turn in opposite directions and begin your divergent treks.

Catching up to Cee by jogging, your steps slow to match her pace once you are by her side. There’s silence between the two of you for a little while as you weave your way through trees of varying heights, eyes keeping to the ground to spot humps in the dirt. Humps gave away the location of aurelac deposits. A couple of slips were shared between the two of you as you climbed over hills and shuffled through valleys, the forest floor littered with puddles. What The Green has in vegetation, The Blue has in water. There were multiple lakes, some touting depths that are only achievable by advanced marine technology. Rainstorms are common, but they never grow to something like a hurricane. Everything was doused in a blue hue, whether it was the air, the water or the plants. The spores in the air resembled stagnant raindrops, peculiar in the way that they seemed to stay in their place in the atmosphere.

Cee broke the silence, “So, are you okay?” You know exactly what she is referring to and answer, “Yeah. Still a bit shaken up and confused, but other than that I guess I’m fine. I can feel bruises where his hands were.” She turns around to look at you and you lift your chin for her to see. She grimaces and says, “Yeah, you can see where each finger was and everything.” You look down, feeling disappointed that the event even happened. You ask her, “So he had a nightmare about me?” You watch the back of her helmet as she nods, “Yep. He just said that he thought you were going to endanger the three of us. He didn’t say in what way, really, just that you were a threat.” You take a moment to process the information and then fire off another question, “So, I have nightmares too, but I don’t act on them in real life. So why did he do what he did? Is there, like, an underlying feeling of distrust that he has for me, or...?” She started shaking her head halfway through your last sentence, “No, no, not at all. It’s just that The Green was so traumatic that I can understand just how vivid nightmares about it can be. And even though I don’t know much about what he went through before I met him on The Green, I’m sure prospecting was just as dangerous as it is now. I wouldn’t be surprised if at one point, or at a million points, someone that he trusted backstabbed him. But it’s nothing personal against you at all.” You nod and take in her words, trying to reassure yourself that you can trust him, even though he had done everything he could to prove you otherwise the night prior.

Cee stops and turns to you, chuckling, “If anything-”

A short sound on your radios cuts her off, and Ezra’s voice comes through the speakers, “How are you little birds coming along?”

Cee answers, “Fine. No deposits yet. What about you?” She grins at you, not forgetting to finish her comment as soon as he leaves the two of you alone.

“Nothing. I’ll be shocked if we stumble across any hint of a deposit today. Like every day. Over and out.”

You look at her, eager to hear what she has to say. This only widens her smile, and she rolls her eyes as she begins, “Like I was saying.” You both laugh as she continues, “If anything, you’re the best thing that’s happened to him. I’ve never seen his eyes light up so much at anything like they do when he looks at you.” You blush and look down at your feet shyly. She gives you a playful shove and knocks you out of your butterfly-ridden trance. Her tone changes serious as she sighs, her pitch dropping a little bit lower than normal, “You really don’t have to worry about him hurting you or me. He’s just fucked up from our time on The Green. I am too, but I experienced it in a slightly different way, and deal with it differently too. I mean, I lost my father, but he killed two other people. It got us out of there, but that’s probably going to haunt him for the rest of his life. And since it was recent, he’s still trying to figure out how to handle the whole thing. I’m not making any excuses for him, because he didn’t have any reason to attack you, regardless of any dream, but he seriously wouldn’t do that under any other circumstances.” She puts an assuring hand on your shoulder and smiles. You smile back and nod once in understanding, saying, “I believe you.” She pats your back, and you both turn to continue on your walk. A few moments pass, and she lets out another laugh. You teasingly ask her with a smile on your face, “What is it now?”

“I mean, it’s obvious that Ezra’s been through some shit, because the guy’s fucking weird as hell.” Your helmets are filled with your cackling as thoughts of the strange man play out in your head. Cee jokes, “I mean, little bird? His confusing speech pattern in general? Someone who talks in crosswords is either an ancient person who is trying to be clever in their last days because that’s the only form of strength they have left or just some asshole who finds enjoyment in verbally tricking people.” Another few moments of giggling pass before she ends with, “And what’s with the drawl?” She turns to you, the injuries in your throat burning from laughing so hard, “Have you ever heard someone else, in the entire Bakhroma System, talk like that?” You shake your head while wheezing and she says, “I haven’t either. So how did that weirdo even get here?”

The surrounding forests may be quiet, but the inside of your suits are filled with the joyful laughter of two friends who continue on their merry way to find some aurelac.

What yesterday lacked in aurelac, it made up for in emotional gains. You had spent the rest of the day with Cee, strengthening your tender bond, exploring the terrain that The Blue had to offer. Ezra kept to his promise and checked in on you two hourly, making sure that you hadn’t run into any other travelers or went too far off the grid. Your group hadn’t crossed paths with any other citizens of the galaxy since you landed, which didn’t surprise or disappoint any of you; the three of you needed some peacetime for regrouping.

You start today by scanning the pod’s dashboard of lights to make sure nothing is out of order. Because of his contempt to the idea of you prospecting, Ezra had assigned you to be the pod’s programmer. Pods were cheap to rent, so they were justifiably subject to malfunctions. Given that Cee and Ezra were tasked with mapping out The Blue and harvesting aurelac, you obliged to take the responsibility of operating the astronomical vehicle. The other job you had been given was keeper of the harvested aurelac. Once in its containers, you were to check on the gems every day and make sure that none had cracked during transport. The problem is that you haven’t had any luck at finding such valuables. It has been documented that The Blue does contain aurelac, but that it is extremely difficult to find. However, the average gem on The Blue is thrice the size of that which The Green holds. So the size and abundance differences are a lawful tradeoff.

While you’re analyzing a digital screen on the dashboard, an expressive yawn escapes a man’s mouth. You twist to see Ezra stretching his arm out, eyes and nose scrunched in delight at the wringing out of his muscles. A smile graces your face as you take in his exaggerated display of awakening, and he mirrors your smile when he opens his eyes. His arm relaxes at his side, and a raspy morning voice greets you, “Hi.” You smirk at his unadorned statement and say back, “Hi.” He holds your gaze for a moment before turning to pick his mechanical arm up off the floor next to him. After losing his arm on The Green, his prospecting abilities fell drastically. He had to take out a loan to pay for the artificial limb, but it would restore his talents, so it was a fair deal. That’s why the three of you had gone on this mission, rather than building your friendship on Puggart Bench: to harvest aurelac to repay the loan.

Cee grabs both you and Ezra’s attention as she wakes with a start. Getting up and out of her pilot’s chair, she merrily folds her blankets and marches over to her equipment hatch. You and Ezra share a look of bewilderment, and he questions, “Good morning?” She flips around to you both, forgetting that you were in the pod with her. She cheers, “Good morning!” Reading the two confused expressions that watch her, she explains, “I want to go and look at this area that we missed yesterday. It has a lot of hills, so maybe that’s an indicator of more deposits. I was going to look at it yesterday, but then we came together for lunch, and I completely forgot about it until now.” Noting that she is the only one in the pod that is anywhere near awake, she asks both you and Ezra, “Is it okay if I go by myself?”

Memories of the last 36 hours flicker in your head, discomforting your nerves. It’s not that you don’t trust Ezra, but you don’t trust Ezra. The outburst that he had the other night frightened the shit out of you, and you’ve been wary to interact with him at all, let alone without Cee present to diffuse the situation if it got too tense. The fear he had shoved upon you was still fresh, but the excitement in Cee’s face and your tiresome brain convinced you that it would be okay. Maybe during this time alone you could patch things up with him. Him and Cee had given you a general rundown of what had happened on The Green when you first met, but you could prod Ezra about the details. Hopefully you could uncover some explanations to his night terrors.

You look over at him to gauge his reaction to her proposition, and he’s staring at you with puppy-dog eyes. His mouth is turned up in a soft smile, and you can’t help but grin at the way his hair is still unruly from his sleep. Suddenly you feel a pleasant heat between your legs, and you can’t tell if it’s just your body waking up or the overwhelming desire to pepper a million kisses over the sleepy man’s face. Refusing to admit to yourself that the latter is the true culprit of your wetness, you shake your head slightly to rock you out of your trance and say to Cee, “Yeah, that would be fine.” Ezra’s smile at you widens before he turns to Cee and inputs, “I concur. Like always, just be sure to watch your surroundings carefully. You’ll find us here when you return.” She nods once and turns to her equipment hatch, signaling you and Ezra to turn to yours as well to give her some privacy as she changes. Once changed, she closes her hatch, puts her helmet on and departs, “I’ll be on channel one. See you guys later!” You and Ezra both give halfhearted waves, still too tired to formulate any meaningful words. The door to the pod closes behind her, and you are alone with Ezra.

The anticipation of being alone with him made you more anxious than how you feel now, letting your eyes fall to the man still on the floor. He’s already looking up at you, the lazy smile still pulling at his cheeks. The desire to invite yourself into his bed, wrap yourself in his blankets and limbs in order to match the warmth that is flooding your genitals, and doze off into a lustful nap tries to take over your mind. You fight it with everything you have and make your way over to your pilot’s chair. Positioning yourself so that you’re facing Ezra, he simply asks you, “Hungry?” You nod your head and he reaches behind himself. His hand reappears with a Bits Bar, tossing it to you. The only sounds that fill the pod are the crinkling of the wrappers and your respective chewing. Although you’re both preoccupied with eating, Ezra’s silence is deafening. He tended to drop his confusing lingo when talking to you, since he wasn’t trying to trick you. He hadn’t had the courage to reveal his true feelings to you yet, which will be so poetic and heartfelt it will make you sick to your stomach, so he stuck to simple statements. He wanted you to note the difference between his conversations with you and other people, so he made it a very clear point to forgo his prose and expansive vocabulary. He wanted you to note that he revealed his truest sentiments to you and tried his best to hide them from others.

The peaceful nature of the morning encouraged you to bring up an irritating topic with him, “I only want to prospect because I want to help you guys.” He tries to keep his eyes on his food, knowing that looking into your eyes will ignite his possessive and protective nature, “I know that. And it doesn’t matter how many motives you come up with, birdie, there will never be a time when you’re in my care that you will prospect. That’s the extent that I will let this conversation fester to.” His dismissive demeanor infuriates you. You fire back at him, trying not to let your tension leak into your voice, “I’m not Cee. You are not my parent or my guardian, you’re my partner. So there’s no social expectation that I have to submit to your desires.” His irritation grows, entertaining his fingers by folding the wrapper, “That is technically true. But a good partner will never put their partner at risk. And I have deemed it risky for you to prospect.” His retaliation sets you off. You didn’t want this to turn into an argument, but you also don’t want to back down from this. Your eyebrows crease together in frustration, your arms cross and your mouth sets itself in a frown.

He looks up from his distraction and becomes infuriated by your look. Now he’s pissed. He begins a verbal knife fight, “Maybe if you had experienced what it’s like to have a shitty partner, you would appreciate my efforts to protect you.”

“I’m not ungrateful.”

“In a way, you are. You abandoned everything you had on Puggart Bench once you met me and Cee. You had friends, a nice family, a stable living situation, a good education. Don’t blame me for a position that you put yourself in.”

“First of all, that’s how it looked to you. Second, a good education in prospecting! Maybe if you weren’t staring at my ass every second of every day, you would have asked me what I was studying. I can probably prospect better than you can.”

“I’d find pure, mocking enjoyment in seeing you try to harvest. I would bet my life that I can prospect better than you can, even with my impediment!” He motions to his mechanical arm.

“You wouldn’t have the impediment if you weren’t so fucking devious! And don’t even get me started on the arrogance, or the fucking pretentiousness!”

Your overheated exchange comes to a halt when the pod’s door opens. Cee climbs in, and you and Ezra try to mask your fury for each other as much as you can. She acknowledges the two of you and says, “Just need an air filter.” The atmosphere turns awkward as you watch her get what she needs out of her hatch. She’s leaving as soon as she came in, and you hold up a parting hand and say, “Be safe. Have fun.” She tilts her chin at you, and Ezra chimes in, “Be safe, Sparrow.” She exits, disappearing into The Blue.

Her interruption quelled the fire that burned between you and Ezra, subsequently drowning you in a wave of guilt over your words. Ezra’s looking down at his hands, shadows keeping his expression unreadable. You uncross your arms in defeat as you feel tears gather on your bottom eyelids. Opening your mouth to apologize, Ezra puts his hand up and directs, “Don’t apologize.” You protest, “But-” He cuts you off, “Don’t. Apologize.” You audibly sigh and sit back in your chair, not facing him anymore. You wish you could just kiss him. It would shut the both of you up and finally bring your shared, passionate feelings to the surface. Instead you opt to stare at the program board in front of you. How sexy. Such allure. You roll your eyes at your own naivety.

Both of you sit and replay all of the moments that led you to the peak that you sit atop, questioning how to safely start the descent. You decide to break the silence with a neutral topic, “Why do you call her Sparrow?” Staying turned away from each other, Ezra answers, “Well, now that I have two little birds in my life, I have to distinguish them.” Your heart glows at his comment, but it’s not enough to wipe the somber expression off of your face.

“Why Sparrow though?”

“She’s adaptable. She’s been able to keep a sane mind while traveling through Puggart Bench, The Green, The Ephrate, The Blue. The presence of others doesn’t deter her from her work, yet she’s not aloof to their existence.”

His musings entertain you. Your anger begins to become a thing of the past as you get off of your chair and sit down on the floor a few feet away from him. Being on a literal level playing field only increases your ease.

“What are you?”

He smirks, “A magpie.”

“I should’ve known.”

You share a bit of laughter before he explains, “I’m intelligent in trickery. I take pride in my illusions, but that’s not all I possess. Once I find my mate, I become protective of them, sometimes to the point of absurdity. A magpie male and female share the brunt of building a nest; as all great relationships should split the responsibility of reconciliation equally.” Regarding his last sentence, he raises one eyebrow at you. You stretch your legs out so that the soles of your shoes touch his.

“Magpies mate for life.”

You break your eye contact. You have grown shy from his pointed allusions, so you playfully fiddle his feet with yours. A moment passes before he says, “You’re a snow goose.” Confused, you look up at him, “A snow goose?” He nods enthusiastically, “Yes, a snow goose.” You shake your head, giggling, “I’ve never heard of those.” He leans forward with shock, “Really?” “Yep.” He shakes his head once and stands up to open his equipment hatch above you. He pulls out a book and sits back down, this time beside you. All About Birds. You assume the birds are alphabetized as you watch him flip the book open about 4/5 of the way through, and he presents you with a page: “Snow Goose”. Amused by the fact that he wasn’t lying, you let out a laugh. He laughs with you, “My Goose needs to brush up on her avian animal knowledge.” A minute has to pass before the cackling subsides. Then he paraphrases, “Snow geese are another adaptable bird, preferring to travel in packs. They roost mainly in bodies of water: marshes, ponds, the like. Ringing true to stereotypes of the general breed, they are very territorial of their property once they claim what is theirs. Snow geese have a brilliant white coat, which I equate to your magnificent aura. They are similar to magpies in that they mate for life.”

You look up from the book and are greeted with chocolate eyes glazed in infatuation. Thighs and arms pressed together, you turn to rest your chin on Ezra’s shoulder. Flickering eyes go back and forth between his eyes and his lips, signaling to him that if he wanted to kiss you, you wouldn’t object. He inserts, “Snow geese also don’t lack in paying homage to their reputation of being loud bitches.” You gasp and lay a swat on his chest as he chuckles away at his poking. After he has had his fill of laughing, you return to your resting place on his shoulder and let out a sigh.

A few quiet moments go by before you look up at him and admire the handsome, irritating, brave, stubborn, loving man who are you enamored with. You reach your hand up and comb your fingers through his hair once, twice. He leans into your hand as you continue to brush his locks, “Ezra?” He hums, eyes closing rapidly from the lulling pleasure you’re giving him, “Mm-hm?” You whisper, “I’m sorry.” A stark contrast from earlier, he allows your apology. He opens his eyes and they’re dripping with honest remorse and helpless romance, “I’m sorry too.”

Yesterday didn’t amount to what you had originally planned to accomplish, but it was still a good day. Despite all of the insult hurling and badmouthing, you and Ezra ended the day on a nice note. Getting to the bottom of his nightmares could wait for another time. You both had needed a day of fun together to put aside your hostilities before you embarked on discussing trauma. Cee had returned without a problem, hands void of aurelac but filled with notes of The Blue’s landscape.

You wake up, startled, All About Birds slipping off of your lap and onto the floor. You had sliced it out of Ezra’s dormant fingers after he had fallen asleep, your curiosity piqued from his earlier paraphrasing. Cee’s awake and bustling about in the pod, trying to find something, anything, to eat that isn’t a Bits Bar or a Slurry Pack. As you lean over to pick the book up from the floor, you catch Ezra’s eyes on you.

He’s standing at his equipment hatch, doing some much needed cleaning up. He’s a traveler who believes in organized chaos, that putting things in their “right” place takes up too much valuable time.

You smile up at him shyly and as you sit back upright with the book in your hands he says, “Did you find any specimens that better suit us?” You shake your head, “No, you were pretty damn spot on with your choices.” He flashes a smug grin, one that paints your face pink with amusement. Cee plops down in her chair with a huff of defeat, unwrapping a Bits Bar. Ezra hears her and says, “(Y/N) and I will take today’s assignment, Cee. You’ve warranted yourself a break after your ingenious expeditioning yesterday.” She says, “Good, because my legs feel like jelly.” The three of you laugh and you get up and rush to your equipment hatch. With your and Ezra’s friendship on its way to restoration, you were excited to find what the day would hold. The two of you get dressed in a flash, and you tell Cee before putting on your helmet, “We’ll be on channel one, like always.” She sticks a thumb up from behind her chair, and with that you and Ezra are on your way out of the pod.

The rays of the Sun today are periwinkle, streaming through small gaps in the overhanging vegetation. The air is tinted royal blue, the trees shimmer with teal sparkles, the soil a shade of navy. You inhale deeply as if you can smell the fresh air through your air filter, imagining a place where you could be with your gang without all of this clumsy equipment, without giving up the majesty that this landscape has.

Ezra snaps you out of your daydream, “Where to today, Snow Goose?”

You pull out a map from a pocket on your back and scan it, looking for any uncharted territory. “Let’s go west today. There’s a big chunk of land that we haven’t documented yet.”

He nods and begins your quest by turning to the left and walking. You follow him, folding the map and keeping it in your hands. Little conversation is shared between the two of you for the first bit of the journey and the silences aren’t awkward. The majority of your time is spent looking up, admiring the scenery as the Sun comes up and illuminates more of the land. Different hues of blue are unearthed as light reaches deeper crevices: the underside of leaves show turquoise veins, the inside of a hollowed tree trunk boasts a purplish-blue hybrid. The puddles on the ground vary in shape, size, depth and color, and are scattered about the ground in an oddly methodical fashion.

After a while of marveling at the sights, you regret getting dressed so quickly. You hadn’t brushed your hair properly, and the braid you had put it in was loose. Rubbing against your helmet with all of your head turning, the braid had fallen almost completely out of his shape and it was threatening to combine with your sweat to mold to your face. You instinctively put your hands to your helmet to try to push it out of your way, but you are met with glass resistance. Ezra, peeking over his broad shoulder to make sure he hadn’t lost you, notices your frustration, “Let me help you with that.” You furrow your eyebrows at him and wave off his help, “No, it’s okay. I’ll deal with it.” He shook his head quickly and spins on his heels, looking around and spots two conveniently placed tree stumps, one behind the other, that will accommodate te his fantasy. He gestures to them, “Have a seat, Goose.”

You stand there, not wanting to indulge in the dream. This was just as much of a dream for you as it is for Ezra. He watched you, everyday before you went out of the pod, braid your hair and willed that one day it would be his hands that would twist your smooth locks. And everyday you braided your hair, you would envision him standing behind you, concentrating hard on his handiwork, his hot breath cascading down the back of your neck, his knuckles grazing your back. Ezra starts walking over to the stumps and motions for you to follow.

You obey his command and sit down on the seat in front of his, scooting back so that he doesn’t have to reach very far to touch you. A depressing gasp fills the air as you detach your helmet and set it in your lap. Ezra’s gloves appear over your shoulder, “Can you hold these for me?” You were already turned on enough by the thought of him braiding your hair, now he would be braiding your hair with naked fingers and you got to hold the battered material that guarded those impossibly large hands almost everyday? Yeah, this is an illusion. You wait to wake up from your slumber. but are reminded that this situation is very real when Ezra’s fingers reach around your head to brush the sweaty hairs out of your face. His touch is gentle, unlike from the incident a few days ago. Now that you aren’t fighting for your life, you can take in the small, romantic details that you didn’t notice before. The pads of his fingers are rough but not scratchy. You see his fingernails, neatly trimmed and free from any sort of grime. How he pulls off that sorcery while being a prospector, regardless of the gloves, you will never know.

You tense as his fingers glide over your bruised neck, collecting your hair and bringing it all to your back. He holds your hair in one hand while the other stutters on a bruise. He senses your unease and strangles out, “I’m sorry.” You grip his gloves a little tighter, trying to fight your tears from spilling, and shake your head slightly, “It’s okay.” You’re ready to move past it. It’s important to remember that it happened, but you’re ready to rebuild your relationship. Like he jabbed at you the other day, leaving Puggart Bench had been tough for you. You worry that your leaving left behind permanent scars that would impact the relationships you had there. Ezra and Cee feel like the only friendships that you can count on to last. You need them.

Knocking you out of your despair, Ezra pulls your hair to one of your shoulders and rests his chin on the other. He turns his head so that his breath spills across your bare neck. He runs a finger lightly across a bruise and asks, mouth millimeters away from your skin, “May I?” You nod, and he plants an imperceptibly light kiss on your neck. You let a tear dribble down your cheek, wiping it away as quickly as it ran.

A thought enters your mind: my god, his lips are soft as fuck. The combination of the softness with the tickling of his patchy facial hair was heavenly, if not orgasmic. You giggle at your own thoughts* (*thots), intriguing Ezra, “What is it?” You decide to be transparent, “Nothing, it’s just that your mouth is soft as fuck.” A hearty laugh erupts from his chest, “Now I don’t want to put an end to your seductive observations, Goose, but I want this to be an innocent affair.” You smile and sit up straight, letting him know that you are willing to drop the flirtation. For now.

His fingers separate your hair into three sections and he says, referencing the other day, “As a treaty to our battles, I would like to clarify that I don’t think you’re ungrateful.” A soft smile graces your face and you input your own treatise, “And I don’t think you’re arrogant or fucking pretentious. You are a little devious though.”

He chuckles, “If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be the scoundrel that I am, now would I?”

You shake your head no. No, he wouldn’t be the scoundrel that you are not so secretively in love with. As you sit there, enjoying the limited amount of time you are allowed with your helmet off, the details of your dreams prove to be true: you can feel Ezra’s concentrated breath warm the nape of your neck, his knuckles tap your suit when he twists your hair a certain way. You yearn for the day that you will be able to touch each other, feel each other’s true weight and texture, without the suits getting in the way.

“So, if you’re so good at prospecting, why don’t you tell me how you do it?”

His tone is playful and your situation could not be more peaceful, so you decide to indulge him, “Well, first you have to find a deposit, which is usually indicated by a lump in the ground.”

He verifies your first step, “Uh-huh...?”

“Then you want to pour a solution into the deposit’s hole. You don’t want to pour too much though, or else it could cause an explosion.”

Ezra’s hands stop. You turn and ask him, “Is everything okay?” He nods, his eyes first staring off into the landscape and then refocusing once they land on you. He continues to involuntarily nod as he says, “That’s what permitted Cee and I to escape The Green. She threw an entire pint of solution into a deposit. Nearly blew the entire place to bits.”

You feel rude when you realize that your mouth is hanging open in shock. You close your mouth and words about his time on The Green tumble out of his, “I am devious, indeed. But there were people--beings--there that would make me look like an angel. I take responsibility for killing Cee’s father because he tried to hijack my stash. A man’s work is no petty thing, Goose. I ended up having to kill two others there, in the end. I overestimated our luck after the first one, thinking that it would’ve been a simple escape. I killed the other mercilessly. You see now, Goose, the dangers that I encountered on The Green alone. I would never be able to forgive myself if I allowed you into harm’s way, and you became a tragedy.”

You reach a hand out and cup his face, which he leans into. He still holds onto your hair, your braid halfway done, and you say, “I was ungrateful, and I’m sorry for that.” He shakes his head once, taking your hand from his face and kissing your palm, “Now you see why I wanted to strangle you in my nightmare. I dreamt that you were someone else, some other thing, that was threatening to drag our trio back to that wretched land.” You both breathe out a shaky laugh, trying to lighten the mood. Even though it was nervous, you are glad that the both of you are taking some steps in the right direction.

He clears his throat and sits up straight, “Now, after you dodge an eruption, what is the next step of prospecting?”

You face ahead and let him continue your braid as you speak, “Next you want to remove the husk from the deposit, and cut the cord that connects the two. Then you want to remove the inner membrane from the husk.”

He quizzes you, “And what’s inside the inner membrane?”

“The aurelac gem.”

“Correct. Continue.”

“Then you want to cut out any blisters, but if you cut too carelessly you could puncture it, which will release acid. If that happens then the gem ceases to be worth anything.”

“That’s where my expertise usually falters.”

“Finally you want to remove the gem from the inner membrane, douse it in fazer solution, and you have your stone.”

He tests you again, “What is the purpose of the fazer solution?”

“To stabilize the gem and increase its clarity. Higher clarity grants higher payout.”

He pats your shoulder twice and ties your hair off with the hair tie you used for your loose braid, “Fantastic job, Goose. Couldn’t have explained it better myself.” He stands, walks around your stumps and holds a hand out to you. You take it, even though you were perfectly capable of getting up yourself. You got to hand him his gloves, and he stops you, “Wait a minute.” Both of his hands come to the sides of your face and push a few stray hairs behind your ears; the finishing touches to his masterpiece. You can tell he did a good job without having to look at it, since it didn't feel too loose or too tight, and the problem you had before was now solved. His tongue darts out and runs the edge of his bottom lip before he takes a step back, throwing his hands up, “Voila!” You giggle, eliciting a smile from Ezra wide enough to make the skin around his eyes crinkle in happiness. You hand him his gloves, which he puts on before you both secure your helmets back to your suits.

Ezra checks in with Cee, “Everything alright, Sparrow?”

A few seconds pass before she answers, “Yep, just listening to my music. Everything alright on your end?”

“Affirmative. We’ll be staying outside for lunch. Over and out.”

Ezra’s eyes gaze into yours for a brief moment before they move past your shoulder, eyebrows raised and mouth agape. You ask, “What?” before turning and following his stare. A patch of undisturbed soil, littered with lumps. In his rush by you, Ezra grabs your hand and pulls you along with him as you run to the potential aurelac deposits, laughing at his enthusiasm. He halts at the brink of the field, choosing which one he wants to dig up first. You suggest, “Why don’t we start from the outside and work our way in?” He nods, “That’s a great idea,” and drops to his knees. You stare at the mound in front of him as you sink down to the ground, pulling out your map. You mark where this field is located as he preps his harvesting tools. Once he’s prepared, he sighs and takes your hand, “Do you want to help me, Goose?”

You nearly spring to your feet with excitement, “Would I ever!”

He beams at your reaction and begins the process by clearing the dirt away from the mound to reveal the deposit. “How about for this first time, you just hand me the tools?” You nod, taking this as slowly as he wants to, “Whatever you’d like.” He grins as he cuts a hole in the deposit, knife already in hand. “Solution,” he requests. You hand him the bottle and he does the honor of pouring it over the deposit. A white steam emits from the hole, and he reaches in and grabs the husk. “Let me cut this cord, you can do the next one.” You agree and watch as he cuts it with his knife. He places the husk on a flat patch of land and requests his next tool, “Scalpel.” You hand him a Ralon Crusader Laser Scalpel and watch him work.

Laser scalpels are primarily used for precision work, like this step and the removal of blisters, while any generic knives will do the job when cutting the cord or opening up the deposit.

You watch as he makes an incision in the husk, handing you back the tool once he’s done. He wrangles the inner membrane out of the husk and holds his hand out. You know that he wants the scalpel back, and you give it to him. He flashes you a smile for your readiness, but then hands you the scalpel back. You take it, confused, and he says, “I’d like you to cut the blisters off of this one.”

Your pupils narrow and your muscles grow tense. You know the steps of prospecting backwards and forwards, but you had never carried out a lab experiment, let alone prospected aurelac in the wild. Ezra lays a gentle hand on your forearm, “I have eternal faith in you, Goose.” You move toward the membrane and turn the scalpel on. Ezra holds it steady for you as you go to remove the blister. There’s only one, which is a slight relief. You plunge the scalpel into the membrane, thinking that the skin would be thicker, and a hiss greets you. You pull back as the membrane deflates and an amber liquid seeps from it, the hissing never stopping. Your mortified eyes look up into Ezra’s and you immediately apologize, “I’m so sorry, Ezra, I thought that-” He raises a hand, “It is not a big deal in the slightest, Goose. I’ve never come across a prospector that didn’t puncture the membrane, or fail to mix the fazer solution correctly the first time.” He senses your lingering humiliation and grabs your shoulders, turning you even more towards himself, “Really, it’s fine.” You want to melt into his hands, crawl into his lap and just hide there until you feel better, but you know that you have to move on.

He points to the mound behind you, “Let’s try that one.” You stay on the ground and move the tools with you, while Ezra stands and walks over before he squats. You hand him the knife, watch him repeat the process and hand him tools as he needs them: slice the deposit, squirt in the solution, remove the husk, sever the cord, open the husk, take the membrane out. He looks to you, “I want you to try again.” Turning the scalpel on, its vibrations feel more vigorous against your heightened nerves than they did last time. Ezra assumes his position of securing the slippery pod, and you begin cutting. Again only one blister, you circle the blemish with the blade. Once the circle is complete, Ezra reminds you, “It’s easiest to pull it off with your fingers.” You follow his directions, turning the instrument off and setting it to the side. You pull on sticky flesh, and the part that you cut comes off easily. Ezra sighs, “Incredible.” Sliding his fingers in between the membrane and the aurelac, he pulls the rock out and discards the pouch. He calls for the fazer solution, which you hand him and watch as he washes the gem with it. Another hissing sound can be heard, much quieter than the one that came when you punctured the membrane. He holds the aurelac up to the blue Sun, and both of you observe, amazed, at how the light shines through the gem. Aurelac is an amber-hued stone, sometimes with ripples in the color, encased in a foggy crystal. The blue light complements the orange shade of the gem exquisitely.

Ezra turns to you, eyes bright with satisfaction, hands muddied with gristle, “Superb job, Goose!” He leans into you, helmet shields touching and reaches forward to kiss your glass. You smile and laugh with him in gratification. You can’t wait to harvest the rest of the mounds with your partner.

A warmth you have never felt before bestows itself to you this early morning. It flourishes in your heart and subsequently pumps through your body, reaching from the crown of your head all the way down to the soles of your feet. It stretches from your ribs to the ends of your fingertips, running in cycles back and forth. The cause of this pleasure was not from the large aurelac haul you had pulled yesterday, but from the man that you harvested with. Ezra’s arms encircle you, heavy with sleep. You’re swaddled in his blankets with him, the depths of sleep tempting you to fall back down to their level of subconscious. The Sun hasn’t risen yet.

You had crawled into Ezra’s awaiting lap after Cee had fallen asleep the night before. It wasn’t that you felt like you had to hide your feelings from her, but the dynamic still made you feel a little bit awkward, even with Ezra’s reassurance and Cee’s encouragement to pursue him. You would feel more comfortable if she were to wake up and find the two of you in your designated sleeping arrangements, and not in an amorous yet innocent entanglement of limbs.

You can practically feel a rainbow sprout from your chest as you look up at Ezra, finding delight in his relaxed expression. His hair is messy not from the tossing and turning of a restless night’s sleep, but the enamored strokes of a yearning partner’s fingers. The whirlwind of malachite butterflies in your stomach nudges you away from sleep. You press your hands into Ezra’s chest, where they have been resting, and turn to nuzzle your nose into his collarbone before you start to slip out of his embrace. Gently lifting his arms off of you in an effort to keep him asleep, you fail. He cups the side of your face and rubs his thumb back and forth against your cheek a few times before he lets his arm fall to his side. He gives you a smile of understanding, allowing you to leave him only because he will dream about holding onto you for forever once he drifts off again. You give him a playful boop on his nose before you stand and trudge over to your pilot’s chair, sinking down into your own cold blankets. You try your best to recreate the heat you just deserted by bundling yourself up tight, but it’s not the same. However uncomfortable, you quickly succumb to the temptation of sleep.

The true morning gives rise to an energetic group of prospectors. Still joyful about yesterday’s collection, you, Cee and Ezra are enthusiastic to stroll around The Blue again and see what else could be in store for you. Stretching in your chair, Ezra grabs your raised hands and leans over the back of your seat. You look up into his eyes and he greets you, “Good morning, Goose.” You smile and tease, “Good morning, Magpie.”

Cee blurts out, “Finally, you give her a nickname too!” You and Ezra laugh as he releases your hands, and you turn to face Cee at her equipment hatch. “I like Magpie too. Very fitting,” she raises an eyebrow at Ezra and he shoots you a wink. You get up to fold your blanket, Ezra glides over to his own equipment hatch, and Cee says, “You know, I say you guys last night.” Your face instantly beats red, and Cee notices, “No, it’s fine. It makes me happy to see a couple that can get over obstacles and love each other through it all.” You still feel a bit embarrassed, but shrug it off.

A word she chose makes you question Ezra, “Are we a couple?”

“Of course. We’ve always been partners, haven’t we?”

Suited up, the three of you enter The Blue. After your daily assessment of the land (beautiful, as always) you turn to Cee and wait for her direction. She had mapped out the majority of the Blue Moon the day that you and Ezra stayed inside the pod, so you trusted her guidance the most. Ezra asks, “Where to today, birdies?” Cee analyzes the map before pointing to an area, “This block was filled with hills. It didn’t look like there were many deposits, but then again I’m not the best at spotting them.” Eager to start, you ask, “Which way do we go?” Ezra glances at the map, points to the right and commences your expedition, “This is the way.”

💘taglist: @pascalpanic

#ezra x reader #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect #ezra fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #ezra x fem!reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pascalitos #found family trope #prospect 2018

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the-cult-of-russo · 3 years

Text

No Going Back

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Request : good morning. i wanna request number 8. “Maybe you should just leave now.” angst/fighting dialogue. to be correct it is for billy russo right?

A/N: yes it's my Billy boy :') he a lil soft in this though but also an asshole lmaooo not gonna lie, this one had me swept up in the emotion. It hit quite close to home and now I'm sad :')

Warnings: cursing, angst, sadness and heartbreak. Billy fucked up big time lol

Your hands were shaking as you slammed the door to your apartment. Tears stained your cheeks and you kicked your heels off before storming to your bedroom, grabbing a duffel bag and starting to pack his things that he'd left around. Heartbroken didn't even cover it.

You knew this would happen, it's why you fought against it for so long. But you were stupid and ended falling for his bullshit and now you were a mess.

You and Billy had been together officially for 7 months. You'd met a year ago at a bar and hit it off, but when he tried to take you home you'd denied him. That apparently piqued his interest even more. He'd always be at the bar every Friday when you went and it was always easy to just be yourself around him. You didn't take him up on his offer and he would offer every time. He never made it a secret that he wanted you.

But as the months drew on, you both got to know each other more and it became a sort of friendship. You had to admit you felt something when you looked forward to seeing him. He'd asked you once why you were so against it and you'd been pretty blunt with him. You knew of his reputation and you weren't into it. You didn't do one night stands or casual sex. You wanted a relationship, someone to settle down with. You wanted something real. You told him you didn't think he was capable of that and he'd break your heart.

Five months into knowing each other and he'd switched from just wanting to fuck you to wanting to actually date you and you'd still put up a fight. But as your feelings for him grew, he wore you down. The moment you agreed to that date, which he'd been over the moon about, everything changed.

It had been so easy to be with him. He treated you like a queen, was more affectionate than you'd have thought, and you enjoyed each other's company. He was busy with Anvil a lot so you didn't see him every day but he'd call if he couldn't see you or send you sweet texts. He swore to you up and down that he'd never hurt you, never do what you'd thought he would do when you turned him down all those times.

You'd see the looks women gave him when you went out together or were at an event as his date and sometimes you'd feel insecure. But he only had eyes for you it seemed and it reassured you. It lulled you into a false sense of security that he'd actually changed. That he actually cared about you.

But you were wrong. So very fucking wrong and now you were paying for it. You'd been having dinner with a friend you hadn't seen in a while when it happened. Your eyes finding Billy across the restaurant. He was sat with a pretty blonde, very up close and intimate as they whispered god knows what to each other. You'd felt your heart crack but tried to deny it. It was just flirting, nothing more. But then… he'd leaned in and kissed her.

You'd shot out of your seat so fast the chair fell over and ran out of the place like someone had lit a fire up your ass. And you knew he'd seen you because you heard him shouting your name as you jumped into a cab and left.

You hated yourself for being surprised at what he'd done. You'd told him this was exactly how it would go but he'd swore to you. And you allowed yourself to buy into his bullshit because you loved him.

Most of his things packed, you padded over to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of wine, pouring a large glass. You swigged it in one and felt the warmth bloom in your chest. It did little to ease the hopeless sorrow that consumed you though.

There was a rough knock at your door and you heard Billy call your name loudly. You tensed, heart breaking all over again as the tears seemed to be never ending. You didn't want to talk to him, to even look at him. But this was it. You couldn't stay with him, not now. You'd never be able to trust him again. You knew you had to tell him it was done so you could lick your wounds and heal from the pain.

"Y/N, please… open the door," Billy begged from the other side. You walked over, unlocking it but not opening it as you stormed back off to your bedroom. You knew he'd let himself in. You heard his heavy footsteps entering as you shoved another of his shirts in the bag, one you liked to sleep with.

"Can we talk?" He asked hesitantly.

"No," you bit out, eyes snapping to him. His face fell when he saw you crying and he took a tentative step into the room.

"Please, Y/N, let me explain," he frowned. You laughed but it held no joy. Only a deep rooted pain that was latched onto your soul.

"Explain? Really? What, you gonna say you tripped and your mouth landed on hers?! I saw it with my own eyes, Billy! You don't need to explain anything!" You roared, pure pain lacing your words.

He clenched his jaw as he shook his head, eyes glassy as he stared at you.

"I'm-I'm sorry," he started softly, reaching out to grab your arm but you smacked it away harshly. He looked like a kicked puppy and you hated it. He didn't get to be upset about this.

"How long have you been fucking her then?" You asked snidely as you grabbed the duffel bag, holding it in a death grip.

"I haven't fucked her," he muttered quietly. You snorted deprecatingly and he bit down on his lower lip.

"Yet?" You asked knowingly. His guilty glance to the floor told you everything you needed to know.

"How long, Billy? How long have you been cheating on me?" You asked, your voice wavered but your gaze had nothing but fire in it and he shifted where he stood. He couldn't look at you.

"A month. It was always one night, I never went back to someone," he frowned. Pain clawed its way through your chest and you threw the bag at him hard. He caught it but stumbled a little and he looked at you forlornly.

"Well, I guess that makes it better then, right?" You asked coldly and he flinched.

You stormed past him back to the kitchen area and he followed quickly.

"Please listen to me, Y/N. I need to make this right," he pleaded desperately. You whirled around to face him, face flushed and tear stained and you felt like you wanted to scream.

"Why? Why did you just decide after 6 months together to do this to me? You promised me, Billy! I knew this would happen but you fought for this! For us! Why?! Just so you could break my heart?!" You bellowed, a mix of anger and utter despair in your tone.

His lower lip quivered and he bit down on it, staring at the floor.

"I never wanted to hurt you. I swear, I didn't. I just…" his voice cracked as his teary eyes landed on you.

"Maybe you should just leave now," you uttered. Your whole body was trembling and you felt sick. You couldn't stand to look at him. He stepped closer to you, dropping the bag on the floor but you took a step back. It would be far too easy to fall for his bullshit again and if he touched you, you didn't think you'd be able to get him to leave.

It felt like pure pain ripped through your chest, the weight of the world crashing down around you. You slumped onto a dining chair as a raw sob clawed its way out. Billy was kneeling in front of you in seconds, his own cheeks now damp as he cupped your cheeks. You moved your head from his grip and shook your head.

"I loved you, you know that?" You whispered brokenly though your tears. You'd never outright said it, mostly in fear of his reaction. But it had all gone to shit anyway. His lip trembled again, scrunching his nose up a little as he shook his head. He looked utterly devastated and it made you angry so you continued.

"I loved you with everything I had. I trusted you with my life. I ripped out my own beating heart and willingly gave it to you because you swore to me you wouldn't do this. You just took it and stomped all over it. How could you do this to me?" Your last words were strained as the tears flowed freely.

"Please let me fix this," he begged helplessly. He was crying openly now, not trying to hide it as he gazed at you from the floor.

"You can't fix it. I'll never be able to trust you again. It's not just the sex, Billy! You've been lying to me for a month. All those business meetings or times you were away? And you just… you'd come back to me with a smile and tell me sweet words. Looked me in the fucking eye and not feel guilty," you choked out. He shook his head vigorously, hands clasping yours so tight you couldn't pull them away.

"You've got no idea how guilty I felt. It's been eatin' me up from the inside out," he lamented.

"Why would you…? What was it? You just got bored of me? Decided you didn't want me anymore? You should have just ended this because it would hurt less than this," you wept pitifully. He shook his head, clutching your hands tighter.

"Don't… Don't say that, I do want you. I know I don't deserve you, I know I'm an asshole. And… and maybe I shoulda left it alone when you told me this would happen, but I was selfish and I-I couldn't. You were never like the others. I knew that from the moment we met. But then… then things were gettin' serious and I just… I freaked out and went back to my default 'cause I didn't know how to…'' he cried, screwing his face up as he hung his head.

You sobbed as you stood, his hands falling away and you moved to lean against the table as he stood.

"It would be bad enough if I'd just got with you in the first place and you did this. But I wanted to avoid this. I tried so hard but you kept on at it. And it hurts so much more because you promised me you wouldn't do this and I believed you. I thought you'd changed, that you…" you ran a hand through your hair, tugging on it as the tears wouldn't stop.

He stepped to you, grasping your face in both hands and you couldn't bring yourself to fight it despite the pain it brought you. His endless eyes were all consuming, his cheeks wet from his own tears.

"Please… please, Y/N, don't do this. Let me make it right," he begged tearfully.

"Without trust, we have nothing. Everytime you're on your phone I'd wonder if you were talking to another woman. When you're out I'd be paranoid about who you were with. I can't live like that, Billy. I can't live my life in… in an anxious, jealous haze. That's not a relationship," you whispered.

He made a pained noise and it squeezed your heart so hard you thought it might implode.

"I was never good enough for you. I knew that. But I wanted… I wanted to try and be-be a good man… for you. And I fucked up so bad and I just…" his words trailed off into a hopeless sob and you squeezed your eyes shut. You wished there was a way to fix this but there wasn't. You wouldn't be in one of those relationships without trust. Checking your partner's phone and always checking in. It would break you.

"You need to leave, Billy," your words were a mere breath and his hands on your face tightened for a moment before they fell to his sides. He looked completely broken and you were sure you looked the same. He opened his mouth before promptly closing it, his jaw ticking as he moved away and pushed the heels of his palms to his eyes.

You wrapped your arms around yourself like it would protect you from the pain and glared at the floor. You could still feel his gaze burning into you. You glanced at him as he grabbed the bag and slung it over his shoulder. You had to fight the urge to grab onto him as he walked to your door. You felt like you were dying.

He grabbed the handle but stopped, not looking at you as his body tensed.

"I want you to know… I love you too," his pained words felt like a punch to the gut and you covered your mouth with a hand but it did little to stop the noise that left your lips. He looked over his shoulder at you, still holding the door handle.

"I know that… right now you probably don't believe me, but I do. And I'm sorry. I-I never wanted you to get hurt. You deserve so much better," he muttered despondently. With that, he opened the door and slipped out of your apartment. Of your life.

You fell to the floor as heaving sobs left your chest. It would have been easier if he came here being an asshole. Cold and emotionless like you knew he could be at times. But seeing him, his emotions so raw and on display, it cut you deeper than any knife could. And you believed him. You knew him well enough to believe that he fell in love with you and freaked out. You knew it would happen which is why you'd turned him down at the start. You believed he never wanted to hurt you. And you wished you could forgive him. You saw how much it hurt him too but you couldn't. You couldn't get over the betrayal and you didn't think you ever could.

He'd sabotaged what you both had because of his inability to deal with what he felt and the bitter knowledge that if he'd just accepted it, how different your future would be with him, it left a sour taste in your mouth. Billy had opened up to you a lot in your time together about his past and you knew how much it had messed him up. You knew it left him struggling with emotions and relationships and you felt for him. For the lost boy who'd never felt love and didn't know how to cope with it. But nothing could erase the heartbreak. The hurt that he'd given you. Because even if you'd one day be able to forgive him, you'd never be able to forget.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #the punisher #billy russo imagine

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slowly-writing · 3 years

Text

Part of The Family: Civil War

Avengers x Kid!Reader

Part 1

Word Count: 5.2k

Requested by me: ...okay but hear me out. Part of the family, during Civil War.

A/N: This is pretty angst, but I promise there’s a happy ending. I hope you all enjoy this, I loved diving back into this universe for a bit! I tried to stay as neutral as possible, but you can probably tell who’s side I was on.

The mission in Logos was not one you wish to remember. It reminds you of the conversation you had with your mom after she got back from Sokovia. Missions like this one are the exact reason she doesn't want you in the field. The fact that you all made it out alive and relatively uninjured is practically a miracle. Sure you’ve got a few broken ribs and your mom for sure has a concussion she keeps denying, but you all walked away. You just want to relax, heal, and forget the whole thing happened.

The news, however, has other ideas. Every channel is playing the explosion on repeat. What is probably the worst moment of your life being played again and again for the world to see. The worst part is the blatant attack they’re throwing towards Wanda. The girl saved your life and the lives of countless others in that crowd. There were casualties and it was tragic, but the things they’re saying are absurd. You’re enhanced too, but you weren’t the one who wasn’t strong enough, so now she’s the monster.

You haven’t seen MJ since you got back, the swarm of paparazzi and news vans outside the tower is far too thick for either of you to break through, but you know she agrees with you, and something tells you you’re going to need that support pretty soon.

“People died and that’s on me,” you hear your father’s voice as you walk up to Wanda’s room.

“That’s on both of us,” she retorts and they both look down solemnly, feeling guilty.

“That’s on hydra. If you don’t want to put the blame where it really belongs, which as I said is on them, then fine. It’s on all of us. We’re a team. This isn’t on just any one of us, we were all there. We all could’ve done something different today and the outcome doesn’t fall on any single person, just like it wouldn’t have if we had done well,” you say firmly as you sit beside your dad on Wanda’s bed.

“This job...we try to save as many people as we can. Sometimes that doesn’t mean everybody. But if we can’t find a way to live with it then next time, maybe nobody gets saved,” your dad says and you nod in agreement. It’s the hardest part, the people you don’t save, but you have to focus on the good parts. If you don’t, the bad will eat you up until there’s no more good at all.

A knock on the door startles all three of you out of your thoughts. You glance up to see Clint standing in the doorway. The look on his face practically screams trouble, and you almost don’t want to know what he’s going to say. “Tony’s back,” he finally says, “and he brought a guest.”

“We know who it is?”

“The secretary of state,” he says stiffly before walking out.

“This…” you look between the two, “can’t be good.”

xxxxx

You glance around the table, your whole family glaring at the accords. At Ross. At each other. You can see the lines being drawn around you and it makes you want to run and hide like the scared kid you feel like at the moment.

Then the bickering starts. Calculations are being run, and people are making arguments. Your dad and Tony being the loudest among the group.

“We may not be perfect but the safest hands are still our own,” your dad argues and Tony’s disagreement is clear.

“If we don’t do this now, it’s gonna be done to us later. That’s the fact and it won’t be pretty,” he says and Wanda tenses.

“You’re saying they’ll come for me,” her voice is barely above a whisper and you speak up for the first time.

“They’ll come for both of us. You’re not the only one with powers that scare them and I don’t know about you but I don’t fancy being locked in a cell until I’m deemed useful,” you grit out and your mom is the next to speak up, but to your surprise it’s not to agree with you.

“Maybe Tony’s right,” she says and all the heads in the room snap towards her. All confused, and none more than you. “If we have one hand on the wheel we can still steer. If we take it off-”

“Aren’t you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?” Sam asks and she sighs.

“I’m just-I’m reading the terrain. We have made some very public mistakes. We need to win back their trust.”

“I’m sorry did I just mishear you or did you agree with me?” Tony teases and you glare at him.

“Oh I wanna take it back now,” she looks like she’s in pain, and you know the feeling.

“No no you can’t retract it,” as Tony proclaims his victory your dad is the first to leave the room and the team slowly scatters. You stay firmly planted in your seat, your eyes locked on the floor as the words they said sink in. Mainly those of your parents, and they make you sick. Not because of your own view, but of the fact that’s becoming clear. You’re all going to have to pick a side, and they’re not going to be on the same one.

xxxxx

Everyone seemed to be jetting off to different places around the world, having meetings in secret and not telling each other the details of them. You stayed home and tried to ignore it all. You even tried to go to school one day, but the stares and whispers made it impossible to even walk in the front doors. It was like the entire student body froze at the sight of you, so you stayed in the tower with Wanda who couldn’t bring herself to step outside, and occasionally MJ, but only when she could sneak away. Her parents didn’t want her to get mixed up in your mess and you couldn’t really blame them. Peter was always at home. There was no way he could get to the tower without his identity getting revealed and you had a sinking feeling Tony was only telling him one side of the story.

Over the next few weeks things only got messier. Your dad, trying to help, has become a war criminal. Your mom is in Vienna trying to fix everyone’s mess. And with your parents gone you and Wanda are locked in the tower, told by Tony you couldn’t leave for safety reasons. You still couldn’t figure out if he was trying to protect you or protect everyone else from you.

“Mom, how is everyone?” you ask, propping the phone up so both you and Wanda could be seen on the small screen. You had just seen your dad get arrested on the news and to say you were nervous was an understatement.

“Everything’s going to be fine. Tony and your father are talking right now,” she says, walking towards the conference room, close enough for all three of you to hear their voices.

“I’d file the motion to have you, y/n, and Wanda reinstated-” Tony speaks first.

“What about y/n and Wanda?” Your dad’s voice joins in, and you realize he has no idea what’s happening with you.

“They’re fine, they’re confined to the tower. There’s worse ways to protect people,” Tony tries only to be cut off again.

“Protection? Is that how you see this? This is protection? This is internment Tony-” It’s your dad’s turn to get cut off

“She’s not a US citizen and y/n doesn’t even have a birth certificate. They don’t grant visas to weapons of mass destruction!” Tony screams.

“They’re kids! She’s my kid!” There’s a long silence where all you can hear is your heart beating in your ears. You see your mom look at you, heart break visible on her face, and you know it’s because of the tears pooling in your eyes.

“Girls,” your mom says gently, she’s walking away from the argument, but you can’t take any more.

“I’ve gotta go,” you quickly end the call, walking to the window and staring out at the city. That was the moment you lost all your trust in your family. It’s also the moment you pick a side. Sure, Tony and your dad both have valid arguments, and you haven’t quite decided who is right, but you refuse to fight for someone who just called you and your best friend ‘weapons of mass destruction’. Sure MJ once said it as a joke, but that was different. She never meant it. After all these years, you can’t believe that Tony does. You can’t believe that's what he thinks of you. After the way he’s been there for you and helped raise you, he still thinks of you as a weapon waiting to fall into the wrong hands, and you refuse to side with someone who thinks so little of you.

“We need to go,” you say suddenly.

“And where would you suggest we go?” Wanda asks as you tighten your hands into fists, trying to control the anger you feel bubbling up.

“Anywhere but here! You said it yourself. They’re going to come for us, and I don’t see anyone here trying to help. Staying here and doing nothing we’re sitting ducks. We both know this is gonna come to a fight. So we might as well make our way to them,” you tell here and there’s a long silence until you hear Clint's voice behind you.

“I think I can help with that.”

xxxxx

You watch everyone else pile out of the van and greet your dad, Sam, and who you assume to be Bucky. You take a deep breath before following, standing a bit behind Wanda as Clint talks to the group. Your dad’s eyes meeting yours as he steps away from Clint to meet you.

“I didn’t want it to come to this,” he says and you smile weakly.

“None of us did, and yet here we are. Mom’s not with us on this, is she?” He looks to the floor and you don’t need an answer, the sadness in his eyes is enough.

“We're outside the law on this one, if you do this, you’re a wanted woman,” he says and you nod.

“Ever since I found out about the serum, I promised to do what’s right. I’m not gonna let a little thing like the law stop me now,” he chuckles at your words until an alarm starts going off.

“Suit up,” he calls to the group and with that you all get ready, your dad being the first on the tarmac. You stay back in the shadows to listen while your dad and Tony go back and forth for a while, but your breath catches as your mom steps into the group.

“Steve, you know what’s about to happen. Do you really want to punch your way out of this one?” Before he can answer Tony’s yelling and all the sudden Peter is behind Tony with your dad’s shield in his hand. Tony starts yelling at Steve to give up and for a second you think he’s going to, until you hear Sam’s voice saying they found the quinjet. Then Clint shoots his hands free and you step forward.

“Dad!” you yell, and when he glances back you toss your shield to him. Your mom’s eyes widen as she realises you’re here, and you’re starting to realise how little either of your parents have paid attention to your whereabouts throughout this whole thing. Sure, you’re 17, but you’d think they’d pay a little attention to your wellbeing. But you shake it off. Now isn’t the time to mope, you’re gonna need all your energy to do what you have to do.

The fighting starts and you freeze, realizing how not ready you are for this, you see your mom take out Scott as Rhodey goes for your dad. You get your dad’s shield from where Scott dropped it and watch in horror as your dad throws a truck at your mom, literally. And then, as much as you don’t want to, you follow him towards the quinjet. You’ve made your decision and there’s no going back now.

Tony’s team cuts you off and the two sides line up. It’s all very dramatic and you lock your jaw, trying to stay calm.

“What do we do, dad?” you ask.

“We fight,” he says firmly.

“Well, this is gonna end well,” you hear your mom say from the other line and you silently agree.

Everyone starts running towards each other and you tighten your grip on your shield. You find yourself dodging the cars Wanda throws as you punch a literal king in the face. He comes back strong, the claws of his suit tearing into your arm. You use your shield to knock him back into Clint’s range, and he takes over. You spin around to see who’s alone and see your mother with her gaze locked on you. She runs towards you and you use her momentum against her. You flip her over your shoulder but she quickly recovers kicking the shield from your hands and landing a solid punch to your side.

“I don’t want to do this y/n,” she says and you catch her fist, once again flipping her but this time she lands on her feet.

“And you think I do?” you yell over the chaos and suddenly a red mist encases the foot that was aimed at your chest. Your head snaps to Wanda as she sends your mom flying into a nearby vehicle.

“You were pulling your punches,” she says before running off and you glare after her before turning to Peter and slicing his web with your shield.

“Peter, go home. You don’t understand what’s happening here,” you plead.

“Mr. Stark said you’d say that.” he says before sending more webs flying at you. He grabs you by the ankle, sending you into a luggage cart before chuckling, “he also said to go for your legs.”

He shoots your hands and you use the webs to send him against the same luggage cart. He crumples to the ground and you hesitate for a moment before running the other way.

“We gotta go now,” your dad says and you sigh.

“No, you gotta go. If we’re gonna win this, some of us aren’t getting out of here,” you say, running towards the fight in the middle of the tarmac.

“I’m not leaving here without you. Your my family,” his words break your heart, and you know to get him to leave you’ll have to break his.

“No I’m not. I’m just some kid you felt obligated to help. Hydra screwed with me, it’s not your job to clean it up. Bucky’s always been family. Get him out of here. Who knows, maybe they’ll go easy on me. I am a kid after all.”

“Y/n-” you cut your dad off.

“Steve, go. Bucky you and him need to get to the jet. Scott, you remember that thing you were telling me about on the plane ride here?” you ask and you can practically see the wheels turning in his head, “do that. And try not to split yourself in half. On his signal, everybody move.”

Scott soon grows to a ridiculous height and then all hell really breaks loose. Your only goal is making sure they get to the jet, and trying not to think about what’ll happen to you when they do.

After a bit more fighting you see the jet take off and the dust finally starts to settle. You glance around attempting to see who you can help, but instead you see police all with their eyes set on you and Wanda. You take a step back, trying to find somewhere to run, only to realize you’re surrounded. Slowly putting your hands in the air you kneel down, it’s easy to see you’ve lost and you don’t fight it as the shackles lock around your wrists. They’re hightech, clearly meant to withstand any enhanced ability and you see the same kind being put on Wanda. You glance over to your mom standing across the tarmac, you expect her to yell, tell them to let you go, at least have the decency to look upset. But she just watches as you’re shoved into the back of an armored van.

xxxxx

You look around the cell you’ve found yourself in. Your left wrist is shackled to the wall, apparently they don’t deem the two inch thick bulletproof cell wall enough to keep you restrained. After hours off pulling at the chains, your wrist becoming bloody and raw, you’ve given up on trying to get out of them. You’re still better off than Wanda, who is sitting across from you with a shock collar and a straight jacket. If you didn’t want to kill the people who put you here before, that image was enough to make the impulse arise.

You’re arranged in a circle, able to see the people around you, you may not have known all of them for long, but you know none of them deserve this. After the way you’ve been treated you’re starting to think nobody deserves this, you wouldn’t wish this on the worst Hydra had to offer. As you look at the faces around you, you can’t help but think of their families, how much Clint’s kids must miss him. How Scott’s daughter feels losing her father for a second time. It makes you wonder if your mom has even batted an eye. She sure didn’t seem to care that they carted you away in the first place. You start to wonder if she ever even cared at all, or if it was all some elaborate cover, maybe something set up by Fury to make you willing to work for them. They treated you like family to your face, but conspired against you behind closed doors. You’re reanalyzing every interaction you can remember when the door to the cell block opens.

Tony walks in in a sling and Clint starts clapping “the futurist gentlemen! The futurist is here! He sees all. He knows what’s best for you. Whether you like it or not.”

“Give me a break Barton. I had no idea they’d put you here,” he snaps back and you stand, walking towards the glass only to get yanked back by the chain around your wrist pulling against the wall.

“Well, you knew they’d put us somewhere, Tony,” you grit out. For a second his eyes soften before he’s speaking again.

“Yeah but not some supermax floating ocean pokey. This place is for maniacs this is a place for…” he trails off but Clint finishes for him.

“Criminals? Criminals Tony. Think that’s the word you’re looking for, right? That didn’t used to mean me. Or Sam, or Wanda. Or y/n, the girl YOU helped raise!” Clint yells before his voice drops low again, “but here we are.”

“Because you broke the law,” Tony says. As if that’s all this means. As if it’s all that simple. “I didn’t make you.”

“You better watch your back with this guy!” Clint says, slamming his fist into the cell wall as Tony starts walking around the circle, “there’s a chance he’s gonna break it.”

Tony walks, looking at all of you as if you’re animals in a zoo. He bickers with Scott and then Sam before stopping in front of you. You lock your jaw, ignoring the tears gathering in both of your eyes. “What do you need? Did they feed you yet?”

“Oh so now you’re the good cop? The caring uncle?” you snap, shaking the chain on your wrist, “does it look like we’re getting five star treatment here?”

“I just need to know where Steve went,” he says calmly, and you’ve never wanted to punch somebody more.

“You better go get a bad cop then. Cause I’m not giving up my father.”

“You see that? I just knocked the A out of their AV, we have about 30 seconds before they realize it’s not their equipment,” he says, messing with his watch. “Clearly I made a mistake, y/n. I was wrong.”

“Well that’s a first,” you quip.

“Cap is definitely off the reservation but he’s about to need all the help he can get.”

“Then get me out of here so I can help him,” you grit out, but he shakes his head.

“Y/n, you’ve known me for years. You know who I am,” he tries to argue.

“No I don’t. The Tony I knew never would’ve let them lock us up like this,” you say with a glare.

“I’m trying to help,” He says calmly and you contemplate your options for a minute. You clearly can’t help from in here, and Tony’s telling the truth, right? He has to be, he wouldn’t betray you again. Would he?

“I’ll tell you, but you have to promise he won’t end up in here.”

“I promise,” he says, and you take his word.

xxxxx

“Hey Clint,” you call softly, leaning back against the freezing wall of your cell. You ignore the way you’re shaking, and the way your lips feel cold, undoubtedly starting to turn blue. There may be a bed in here, but they made sure the chain would keep you away from it, not that you’d sleep anyway. You don’t trust them enough to let your guard down like that.

“Yeah, kid?” his voice is just as soft, and he sounds as exhausted as you feel.

“Do you think we’re ever getting out of here?” you hear the sharp intake of breath and everyone in the room is looking at you. Before he can answer the doors open once again. You look down, not ready for whatever is walking though, only to see two familiar sets of shoes stop in front of your cell. You stand quickly, trying to make your way to them but the jerking of the chains snap you back into reality as you stumble back towards the wall. You watch as your parents eyes move to the shackle on your red wrist, dried blood covering your forearm from where you tried to pull out of it.

“Get her out of there,” your dad says, his jaw clenched and Ross steps forward, begrudgingly putting a code into the keypad on the wall. Suddenly everyone’s cell doors slide open, a few guards move to take Wanda’s collar and straight jacket off while one unlocks the shackle on your wrist. As soon it’s off your mom steps forward, presumably to hug you but you flinch away, back slamming against the wall.

“Y/n, it’s okay,” she says, raising her hands slowly as if you’re an animal she doesn’t want to startle.

“Okay?” You snap, “what part of this is okay? The part where we were fighting each other in an airport 36 hours ago? Or the last 24 that I’ve spent in this cell? The chains around my wrist? The collar on Wanda’s neck? Maybe the fact that I haven’t been given food since before Germany. Or the fact that I’m sure I would have passed out from exhaustion by now if I weren’t so scared of what happened if I fell asleep. The part where they tried to torture me for your location? Have you ever been waterboarded before? Because I have, and let me tell you, it’s not fun,” you ask your dad before turning to your mom. “Maybe the part where I had to watch my family fall apart in front of my eyes, or the part where you watched them arrest me and did nothing,” angry tears are welling in your eye for what seems like the hundredth time in the last few days. “None of this is okay.”

There’s a silence in the room as everyone takes in what you’ve said. Your parents are looking around, waiting for someone to disagree with you, tell them you’re exaggerating what’s happened to you, but nobody does.

“You’re right. None of this is okay. What happened is not okay, but we’re leaving now. We’re going to get you all out of here, and we’re going to start making it better,” your mom says gently, her voice cracking. You let her take your hand now, wincing as her fingers brush against your wrist, “we’re going to make this okay.”

xxxxx

Apparently “getting out of here” did not mean going home. It meant cleaning up in the bathroom on the jet and going straight to capitol hill for a special hearing congress was holding to decide whether or not you should be pardoned. You were sitting outside with Wanda because apparently you were allowed to be held captive and tortured for war crimes, but you weren’t allowed to listen in on a congressional hearing until you were eighteen.

“Hey, are you okay?” you ask her, trying to break the silence. You almost regret asking as she starts to shake a bit.

“I will be,” is all she says, silently taking your hand and leaning into your side. You understand the feeling, and the need for comfort. So you sit silently, gripping her hand tightly as you try to relax. The two of you sit for a while longer until you see your parents exiting the meeting room, eyes set on you.

“They want to hear from you.”

“What?” your jaw drops at your mom’s words.

“They want the perspective of someone who knows the team, someone who can understand why we did what we did. They decided that was you,” your dad says and you nod, standing on shaky legs and walking into the courtroom. There’s cameras flashing everywhere and reporters yelling questions. You set your eyes to the front, your mom’s hand on your back pushing you forward until you reach the microphone. You carefully sit in front of it, crossing your hands on the desk to hide how hard they are shaking.

“Please state your name for the record,” the congressman says as the room quiets down.

“Y/n Romanoff-Rogers,” you say into the microphone, wincing at the feedback as you get too close.

“You are here today to speak on why you believe the actions taken after the Sokovia Accords were signed were rational, and why your team should be released from federal custody, free of any and all charges. You may proceed,” he says and you take a deep breath, trying not to think about how badly this could end for you if this goes south.

“I’ve seen the Avengers in a light that no one else truly has. You all get to see the badass superheroes-am I allowed to say badass in court?” you glance at your parents, your mom stifling a laugh as your dad rolls his eyes. “Anyway, you see them save lives. I get more than that. I got to see the side that took in a 12 year old girl, because she had nowhere else to go. They could’ve turned me away, sent me packing. Plenty of other foster homes did, six to be exact. But they took a chance on me and I got to see them as a family. My mom, who sat by my bed all night for the first few weeks that I lived with them, because I had nightmares when I was alone. Who tried as hard as she possibly could to keep me out of the field, even though I could pick up my motorcycle with one hand, because all she wanted was for me to be safe. My dad, who told awful jokes and teased me about the crushes I had. Who was gentle and kind despite being twice my size.

“I got to see the side of Wanda who was a scared teenager, just wanting to fit in like everyone else. Who wanted nothing more than to do right by her family and the people she loved. I got to see them all as people, not heroes. Everyone in that tower just wants to do what’s right and what’s best for everyone, and this time we couldn’t agree. A lot was on the line. Not just a failed mission, or a few injuries to deal with. It was the destruction of everything we’d all worked so hard for. It was jail time in a place I know I’ll be having nightmares about for years to come. The people we were dealing with had no problem sending people to a military black site. Had no problem sending two teenagers there, and torturing them to get what they wanted. And that scared us all, to the point where we were willing to lose everything we had to do what we believed was right. Maybe we were wrong, maybe we weren’t, but there’s no saying the people put in charge would have always been right either.

“Too many of the people on my team know what it’s like to have no say. To be used as a weapon in someone else’s agenda. There was no way any of us could let that happen again, even if it meant losing everything. We broke the law, yes, but historically laws haven't always been right. Mankind has done awful things that were perfectly fine in the eyes of the law. Locking my family away was legal. It doesn’t make any of it right.”

“Thank you, Miss Romanoff-Rogers,” the congressman says before the room is emptied for the voting, and you’re sent home to wait. It all seems very anticlimactic, but if you’re going back to prison, you’re not going to say no to one more night in your own bed first. The ride back to the tower is silent, everyone’s nerves are palpable but nobody is ready to talk about it. You step out of the van to a sea of photographers and people yelling your name, but one shout in particular stands out. You see MJ weaving her way through the crowd and grin as she slams into your arms. You hold her tight for a few moments, before pulling her away and ushering her inside.

“How are you?” she asks once you’re in the elevator, not caring that your family is listening in. You shake your head, letting out a long breath before answering.

“Tired. Stressed. Scared. Exhausted. Glad that you’re here,” you list off and she smiles.

“Considering you said two different versions of being tired, it sounds like the first thing on the agenda is a nap,” she says and you chuckle a bit, the rest of your family nodding in agreement.

“I’d say so. We’ve been awake for, what...two days?”

“Three,” Wanda corrects as you all step out into the common room.

“Yeah, a nap is definitely the move right now,” you grab MJ’s hand leading her towards your room.

“Leave the door open!” your dad calls after you as you flop onto the bed. You roll your eyes, but smile nonetheless. Nothing is back to normal yet. Nothing is fixed. It’s quite the opposite actually. You have relationships to mend, trust that needs to be earned back on both sides, a lot to talk about, and a lot of trauma that needs to be worked through, but laying here with MJ in your arms and your family all back on the same side, it seems like a step in the right direction.

Tag list: @rvgrsbrns @rororo06 @prizmix-and-friends @worlds-in-words @im-salt-but-not-salty @5aftermidnight @riotmaximoff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @stop-drop-and-drumroll

Series tag list: @hannahsairwas @niquey-salvatore @ibe-anne @lostlittlenerd @youarethereasonimsmiling @ohfuckno @marvelousmendess @jelly-fishy-babie @whattheheckisevengoingon

#avengers x reader #avengers x teen!reader #marvel x readear #marvel x teen!reader #avengers imagine #marvel imagine #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #black widow x teen!reader #natasha romanoff x teen!reader #black widow x daughter!reader #steve rogers x teen!reader #steve rogers x daughter!reader #civil war #captain America civil war #part of the family #kid fic #potf: Civil war #potf civil war #potf

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astralsweetness · 3 years

Text

So Kiss Me Goodbye (Hui/Reader) (m)

➣ I wrote this in, like, fifteen minutes the day before his enlistment, so it’s not very good at all lmao

➣ Very very vaguely connected to this drabble, which is connected to this fic. Title from Pentagon’s “Beautiful Goodbye”, Hui’s line specifically: "So kiss me goodbye, if I have to leave I'd rather leave beautiful memories behind".

➣ Hui/Reader | Warnings include: Mentioned alcohol in the beginning, pegging (tho it’s not explicitly said, so it could be seen as a male!reader as well), implied choking, mentioned safewording, mentioned hair-pulling. Talks about his enlistment, sort of angsty but things are okay.

Hui’s leaning on you just a bit too heavily, both of his hands wrapped around one of yours to amuse himself. You knew it would end up like this when the somaek was brought out – he might not have had the highest tolerance, but that didn’t mean he found it difficult to drink something lighter than soju.

“It was a lot of fun.” He’s speaking quietly to you, aware of the taxi driver even while drunk, some idol-life rules ingrained in his being without needing to be sober. That being said, the fact that he was half on top of you proved his memory was very selective. “It’s been a while since we could all get together.”

You’ve heard this before, mostly because he’d said some iteration of this to you about six other times tonight. You know how Hui is going to respond to your response, but you lead him down the same conversation as before anyway. “Didn’t you all get together to do the exact same thing the last time you were set to enlist, Hui?” You’re wary to call him anything else in the presence of a cab driver who may or may not be listening.

“Hyojongie didn’t bring Hyuna-noona last time.” He says it like it’s as simple as that, and you suppose it is. For someone who thrived off of being surrounded by his found family, having an extra person was probably nice. “Wish Jinho-hyung could have come though.”

“You know he doesn’t get many off days.” You’re not totally listening to the conversation considering it was one you’d already had with him more than once, but you can feel his glittering gaze on the side of your face, looking at you like you were everything he ever wanted. It was heavy with alcohol but no less sincere.

You keep your gaze turned away, out the window at the night scenery blurring by, his hands still holding yours as he tucks his face in against your neck, facemask rough against your skin.

.｡..｡.

By the time you get home he is half-asleep, the driver looking at you with pity as Hui leans on you when the two of you get out of the taxi. You’re not sure why that look bothers you, fingers holding Hui’s waist a bit tighter in reflex.

He is asleep the instant he touches your bed, curled up on his side of it with his face buried in your pillow, like even in his dreams he was trying to make up for the fact that you weren’t directly next to him. He’s still wearing the clothes he’d worn out to the get-together, but you don’t even entertain the thought of waking him up to deal with them – it was obvious how tired he was, even without the alcohol’s influence.

You leave a glass of water and an aspirin on the bedside table near him, sliding under your covers moments later – he turns towards you instantly, and you wrap your arms around him out of habit, one hand resting lightly on the back of his neck. That was a habit too.

Kissing him on the forehead wasn’t a habit, and he makes a soft sound at the feeling, nuzzling in against your collarbone.

.｡..｡.

You wake to kisses littering across your cheekbones – before you even open your eyes you can hear him laughing softly, knowing precisely when you awoke. He was just too perceptive when it came to those he loved.

“Sweetheart, I’m pretty sure this isn’t my dorm.”

“Shouldn’t you be hungover..” Your response is less than enthusiastic, even when he cuddles up to you and presses more kisses to your jaw. He wanted something, you just didn’t know what yet.

“I am – and I would be worse if my darling lover hadn’t left medicine by the bed.” He pauses only briefly, during which you crack your eyes open finally to look at him. He does look vaguely hungover, but he also looks beautiful, dark hair falling into his eyes and petal pink lips upturned into a slight grin, face the vaguest bit puffy from the alcohol and extended sleep. Then again, he always looked beautiful to you. “I love you.”

That was a new phrase that had entered your relationship only recently, and something Hui had seemed to cling to when it had been given to him. He said it all the time, as a greeting, as a promise, as a threat, as a goodbye.

But the words felt heavy on your tongue – what was that supposed to mean, when he led the life he did? With your relationship the way it currently was? He’s still waiting for a response with an expression you can only categorize as fond. He never rushed you when it came to this, just smiled and waited, unbothered, like he knew your response even if you didn’t say it.

He deserved the truth though, so you murmur a quiet “I love you too” that wreathes around the two of you like a heavy entity, suffocating but also warm and protective.

“This isn’t your dorm because I wanted to wake up next to you.” That, too, was the truth – the sunset hue of his eyes turns more dawn than dusk at the words, brows pulling together like hearing that was a sweet type of pain. He doesn’t say the I’m sorry I can’t more often that you know is crowding on his tongue. Instead he just presses a soft kiss to your lips before the mischievous look from before re-enters his eyes. He definitely wanted something.

“Since I’m here, what about morning sex?” He says it with no shame, forcing a startled laugh out of you – the room feels lighter somehow, and you reach out to affectionately cup his face, brushing your thumb across his cheek. You can feel the slight imperfections of his skin under your finger, the minute things makeup would always cover, his perfect flaws that you loved.

“Depends.” Your hand caresses his face and slides down until it’s wrapped snugly against the side of his throat, right in the spot it belongs. When he swallows you can feel it under your palm, warm and trusting. “What did you have in mind?”

“Want you to fuck me.” He’s grinning, like he enjoys getting to say something so blatantly naughty sounding after always policing what he says for the camera. “It’s been a really long time since I got fucked last.”

“Really?” You find that hard to believe, considering your Hui had always been sort of a slut (which you called him with all the affection in the world). He laughs in mock offense at your question, so utterly happy just from getting to spend the morning with you, despite his apparent hangover.

“Yes, really! I haven’t even gotten to use my own fingers in a while – do you have any idea how clingy those boys can get when they put their mind to it? Even Hyunggu will follow me around now that the enlistment date was confirmed.” Hui’s whining, trying to make a big deal out of something you know he in actuality loved.

“Then I guess I have some work to do, don’t I?” He scoots back a bit so you can stretch as you sit up, blankets pooling around your waist. It’s only now you notice that at some point in the morning he had shed his belt and pants from the night before. “Someone as pretty and cute as you shouldn’t have to touch themselves, isn’t that right?”

He throws you a smile in response – it’s one of his fragile ones, where he looks almost sad but is instead simply overcome with emotion. You can’t help laughing at him, sliding from under the covers and tossing the lube at him haphazardly. He stretches to catch it, just managing to keep it from falling off the bed. “That was supposed to be a good line, Hui, but you ruined it with your sappy affection.”

“Oh – wait, hang on, you can say it again and I’ll pretend I haven’t heard it.”

Sex with Hui ranged from anywhere between incredibly tense and passionate to carefree and casual, and this seemed to be one of the latter scenarios. There’s a persistent laugh lingering in his throat, infectious, and you can’t help but to laugh along whenever he does.

The atmosphere only slightly changes when you begin to open him up, a specific type of gracefulness seen in the line of his body when you crook your fingers and he arches his back off the bed. A sound that might have been a yelp or a moan accompanies it. Everything is still soft and hazy, warmth suffused through your bodies from where his fingers tangle with your own.

You’re content to let him take the lead, watching tenderly even while his fingers curl semi-painfully into your shoulders when he bottoms out, head thrown back, throat working as he swallows hard. You wonder if you could get away with marking him up before he has to go, but ultimately decide not to, knowing at least someone will be recording when he leaves.

Watching him move on top of you while you lie back and watch is a type of special pleasure - he is just so beautiful, brow furrowed and lips parted, gaze dark and intense but just a bit disconnected like he was focused only on how good he felt. It’s only when his movements become rough that you take all control back, a simple heavy hand on his hip making him still. Sweat glistens on his skin, cock red and glistening with pre-cum from a mixture between desperation and arousal.

“Slower – Hwitaek, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” You reach for his hand, finding it easily even if you curse yourself for your choice of words – it trembles in your grasp and you wonder, for the first time, if he hasn’t been totally honest about how he feels about the four weeks he’ll be gone for basic training. He’s gazing down at you with such a bittersweet expression that it makes your chest ache, and he’s completely stopped moving at this point, resting on your hips, taking all of you as deep as possible.

“I know.” His voice is a soft whisper – four weeks of no contact, of only one phonecall for a limited time every seven days. You weren’t sure he’d ever gone that long without contact from either you or one of his boys.

It’s not fear you’re seeing reflected back at you in his eyes, but loneliness. A lingering sadness because he doesn’t want to be apart from those he loves for even a moment.

“Do you need to safeword, baby?” It feels necessary to ask, to remind him of his safety net considering the way he had gone distant, body tense and fingers shaking around your own.

“No.” It’s still soft, but more firm than his voice had been earlier. Whatever had taken hold of his thoughts he’s managed to shake off – it hurts you, but you know it’s necessary. There wasn’t anything anyone could do to change what was going to happen. “Just want to be with you for a while.”

“You’ve got me, darling.” Your words are followed by the sweet press of his lips against your knuckles, fingers still curled protectively around your own like it was something sacred to him. “Here, let’s switch positions, let me take care of you.”

“You already are.” He sounds exasperated but amused, a little grunt being torn from his chest anyway when his back hits the bed, feeling the way you shift inside of him. When you lean down to kiss him he returns it eagerly, if not a bit languidly, a soft whimper of a moan being swallowed up by your mouth when you begin to thrust into him again.

He’s quieter than he usually is, more subdued, one hand clenched tight in the pillow above him and the other interlaced with your own. You’re fucking him deep, punching little gasps out of his lungs while he rocks his hips towards your own. As beautiful as he is you can’t stop your gaze from drifting to his neglected cock, red and slick with need and desperation.

“That looks painful, baby.” You’re speaking softly, bent over him, and he cracks his eyes open simply so he can crane his neck up and kiss you. You try not to laugh into the kiss and largely succeed. “You ready to cum, sweetheart?” At his nod you un-entangle your hand from his, ignoring the disappointed whine that lodges in his throat. It’s quick to transform into a breathless moan when you wrap your hand around him, the glide of skin on skin incredibly slick already from how much he’d been leaking.

Hui orgasms with a sharp gasp, so much quieter and less dramatic than he usually is, muscles in his abdomen tensed tightly and head thrown back, digging into the pillow. The cum glitters on his skin under the weak rays of sun filtering in through the drapes, and he’s breathing hard, chest heaving, and you’re not sure you’ve ever seen something or someone so primally beautiful before.

He lets you be away from him just long enough for you to clean his stomach off with tissues before he’s tugging you back down beside him. It’s a bit too warm, his skin sweaty and sticky, but you nestle down against him anyway and indulge in his presence, perhaps over indulging as the two of you share countless long, languorous kisses.

“Maybe I should be worrying about how I can go four weeks without this, instead of anything else.” His words are coated with amusement and you can’t help but to giggle with him, burying your nose into his neck. His fingers continue to play with yours, resting on his bare chest.

“You’ll manage.” You press a kiss to the corner of his lips when he turns to look down at you, an “I love you” lingering between you both, unspoken but known. “I know you’ll be okay.”

#subidolnet #hui x reader #hui smut #pentagon x reader #pentagon smut #hwitaek smut #hwitaek x reader #sub!hui #sub!hwitaek #sub!pentagon #hui #hwitaek #pentagon

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that-good-trash · 4 years

Text

Trust Me?

Bakugou x reader / Shinsou x reader

Warning: Hurt/comfort, Angst, Mentions of cheating, Happy Ending?

Word Count: 6.5k

Summary: You love your boyfriend more than anything but it seems he might not feel the same way anymore. When the same friend that planted the seed of doubt ends up your shoulder to cry on where do you go from there.

Authors note: I’ve been dealing with a lot of stuff and this was kind of my self indulgence fic. Please Enjoy!

P.S: I was thinking about jumping on the kinktober bandwagon but I’m worried I can’t do kink justice. Maybe look out for some quick one shots if I do. I am also having to rewrite the fourth chapter of Burn Away With Me because the original file somehow ended up freaking deleted (note to self and others always back up files or make a copy).

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Saturdays were meant for relaxation, for hanging out with friends without a worry. The weekend was meant to provide a chance to shed your hero uniform and trade it for a cute comfy outfit. Well that’s how weekends should be, that’s what you wish you were able to do. Instead you sat on your couch scrolling through your phone watching your friends have fun without you. Pictures of dancing and drinking continuously pass as your fingers move absentmindedly. A picture of Mina taking shots followed by photos of Kaminari on a tabletop. This always happened, you had been missing out for weeks now. However, this problem went deeper than missing a few weekend hangouts. Your boyfriend, whom you had been with for almost three years, had been canceling plans with you for the last few months. Every time you both had a day off, he always got called in or he had made previous plans. It was starting to get old. Had he always been so flaky? Had you just not noticed before or was this new. Either way you were now fully aware of his behavior and how little attention you received from him. Your screen lit up with messages from friends telling you to ‘get your ass to the club’ immediately. Oh, how you wanted too. You wished you were wearing a skimpy outfit grinding against your besties laughing and enjoying yourself. Instead of getting into your club attire you put your phone onto the coffee table. Your back hits the cushions behind you as you fall backward. A sigh slips out and you’re ready to reevaluate your life. What kind of relationship was this? You felt like you were alone, and it was starting to seep into your conscious letting that little voice grow louder and louder with doubt and self-deprivation. It took every ounce of your being to reject the thoughts, to lull yourself back into a false sense of security. Your phone ringing disrupted your thoughts good or bad.

“Hey, I was just thinking about you! I miss-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence before the deep grouchy voice of Katsuki Bakugou interrupted you.

“I won’t be home tonight. Don’t wait up for me, just eat dinner and go to bed.” He sounded like he had been sounding. He sounded tired with a swirl of irritation and it took a lot to convince yourself that it wasn’t toward you. You had to bite your bottom lip to prevent yourself from screaming at him for doing this again. You loved him, did so much for him, that it hurt for him to just blow you off. What was even worse was he didn’t even tell you why he wasn’t coming home. He just expected you to turn in early without even an explanation. You wanted to cuddle or go out with friends and he wanted you to spend the night alone.

“Suki… Why aren’t you coming home? You said last week that you were going to try to come home early.” A growl of frustration could be heard on the other side causing you to tense up. You knew you were upsetting him but that wasn’t fair. He had no right to be upset with you since you were only asking him a simple question and stating a fact. He had promised you that he would start coming home early to spend time with you. You knew that being a hero was hard, you were one. However, you also knew when someone was just making excuses and that’s what this was becoming.

“Christ woman! I have work to do! I said I would try, and I have tried. Obviously, I couldn’t make it home tonight so just listen for once and don’t wait up.” No chance of rebuttal, he had hung up immediately after snapping. That was it. The last straw. You let the tears you had been suppressing fall freely. Your phone was aggressively tossed to the ground and unfortunately your body followed it. Your knees hit the ground first before your clenched fist dug into the carpet. Your head buried itself into the carpet before a scream escaped. It was one of filled so much pent up emotion. A scream that needed to be freed, to help release you from this torture he was putting you through. You sat back on the balls of your feet, your hands swiping at your eyes rubbing the tears into your skin. You cried more causing your hands to rub harder, your skin stung and burned from the aggressive motion. Your phone chimed bring your attention back to it. Your hand held the device hoping for an apology but instead read the newest text from Mina. It was another invite, but the party had moved from the club to Yaoyorozu’s house. A smirk replaced your previous forlorn look. You stood up from the floor letting all sadness be hidden away by pettiness. If he could ditch you like that, go back on a promise so easily then you could go against him. He wanted you to stay home like a good girl, but you didn’t feel like being that good girl. You had never changed so fast in your life. Your pajamas were traded in for a formfitting outfit, one your kept for special Mina party occasions. You looked at yourself in the mirror with gleaming confidence. You outfit accentuated all your nooks and crannies. You looked smoking hot and with some simple yet stunning makeup you were ready to go. A quick text to Mina and you left the cold lonely apartment

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

The party wasn’t over the top and thankfully everyone there was a former classmate. You waved as a few people turned to look at you. Sero had to do a double take to make sure he was witnessing reality and not a ghost. You rolled your eyes as his tape grabbed your wrist before a swift yank had you in his arms. A soft chuckle escaped from your lips that were buried in his chest. He smelled like cedar and felt warm. You let your body relax against his as he let you go but kept his hand on your waist. Kaminari had abandoned his post next to Jiro and rushed over. Before he could try and snatch you away from Sero a new pair of arms circled you. Mina was smiling against you neck as she stuck his tongue out at a now pouting Kaminari.

“I’m so glad you actually decided to make it tonight. We were starting to think you hated us.” You shook your head at the fake hurt in her voice. The boys weren’t helping since they nodded along with Mina. You pulled out his grasp backing away so you could see all three of them. They really had changed in the short span of time since you had seen them. Sero was rocking a cool new undercut while Kaminari seemed a little more built. Mina had also cut her hair, but you knew that since you basically stalked your friends.

“I’m so sorry guys. It’s been crazy, work and home have been a little hectic.” A scoff could be heard behind you. Everyone’s eyes shifted to Uraraka who had her arms crossed. Midoriya stood behind her awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. Uraraka’s puffed out cheeks mimicked that of a chipmunk. You raised a brow at her strange behavior. “Did I say something to offend you.”

“No but why lie? We all know that the reason we don’t see you anymore is because of Bakugou.” Your eyes widened at her straightforward accusation. You looked at Midoriya waiting for him to comment but he remained silent, probably in fear of getting involved. You narrow your eyes trying to hold some dignity. “Bakugou and I are fine okay. I just haven’t had the time to make it to any hang outs because I spend time with him.”

Now everyone was looking at you. For being the only sober person in the room you were sounding like the drunk one. Everyone knew that Bakugou had been blowing off plans with you. It was inevitably that they found out since most everyone talks, and things get around. A sigh that matched the one back at your apartment came out. You looked defeated as you returned to Sero’s side. He rubbed your side while Mina shooed everyone’s attention off you. “You don’t have to talk about it but we’re here for you.”

“Thanks guys…” You closed your eyes trying to let your emotions settle before returning to the fun party you had yet to enjoy and partake in. When you reopened your eyes, a smile followed. You were going to have fun even if it killed you. Mina squealed when you asked for a drink and before you knew it one turned to three. Uraraka had ditched her sour attitude and replaced it with giggles as the two of you danced together. You broke free from Uraraka as you watched Kirishima walk through the front door. You didn’t even give the boy a chance to take off his coat before you were tackling him. He was shocked to see you at the party just like the others had been.

“What are you doing out so late? Isn’t Bakubro’s bedtime at 8pm.” Kirishima was able to get a laugh out of you along with the other members of the Bakusquad.

“Yeah his bedtime would be 8pm if he ever came home. He’s always working late. I never see him anymore.” As the words left your lips you felt the air grow cold. Tension was evident. You froze as you felt your blood run cold. There was an unspoken understanding, but you knew that Kirishima wasn’t going to remain silent. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly which was accompanied by a shaky laugh that turned into him clearing his throat.

“I might be wrong but Bakugou hasn’t been working late… I was one of the last people to leave the office. Bakugou left at his usual time…” You wanted to pretend to be ignorant, but this couldn’t be swept under the rug. You couldn’t act like you hadn’t just been told that your boyfriend had been lying to you for months. Oh god your stomach began to churn, and you pushed passed him and through the front door. You ran into someone before turning and throwing up into one of the planters. Sero and Mina ran after you. Kirishima stood in the doorway feeling guilty but also pissed knowing that the person at fault was his best friend. You felt a comforting hand on your back rubbing it gently. You assumed Mina but when you finally turned around your eyes met with lavender ones. A broken smile cracked across your face. He held his arms open and you ran into them without hesitation. Shinsou had always been there for you when you were both attending UA, but time was cruel, and you couldn’t remember the last time you felt secure in his tight embrace. You sobbed and he just let you. Your friends stood by watching with conflicting emotions.

“What the hell did that asshole do now.” Shinsou was never one to speak to you like you were fragile; he was always blunt and honest. He also never approved of your relationship so of course he’d blame your current state on Bakugou. You wanted to tell Shinsou but couldn’t get the words out. Thankfully you had friends who could speak for you. Sero was the one who spoke up. “She found out that Bakugou hasn’t been staying at work late. She is obviously thinking the worst but he’s probably training or visiting his parents.”

“Bakugou? I just saw him at that fancy restaurant that we went to for Midoriya’s birthday. He was there with some busty bimbo. They seemed pretty interested in the conversation they were sharing. She must be a client or some woman after an interview.” Shinso knew exactly what he was doing when he told you about the mystery woman. He hated hurting you, but it was a necessary evil. Shinsou had always had feelings for you even before he understood them. You were always by his side cheering him on and now he was going to do the same for you. Before he could build you back up, he’s having to let you crumble under the lies Bakugou told you. Your eyes shimmered with unshed tears and a storm was brewing. Your fists were clenched, and your friends hesitated to approach you. You swiftly turned around walking passed everyone back inside before grabbing your keys and leaving. You could hear your friends yelling for you, but you never stopped. Shinsou watched your car drive off into the distance. He knew this was going to end terribly but he would be there to catch you. Thankfully since the ground was already starting to give out.

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“Where the hell have you been!” Bakugou almost dropped his keys as you tried to quietly enter your shared apartment. He turned growling at your accusatory tone. He slammed the door before turning to you. In the light that was cast from the hallway you could see his hair was disheveled, his shirt was wrinkled, and you could swear he smelled a little sweeter than usual. The signs all shone brightly in front of you. Bakugou approached you ready to start an argument over your attitude but stopped when he saw your eyes. They were sunken in, bloodshot, and lifeless. He had never seen you like this. His expression softened before he reached up to cup your cheek. His hand never got to touch you before it was smacked away. “What the fuck Y/n!”

“Who is she… Actually, I don’t want to know. I just want to know why.” Bakugou wasn’t expecting your accusation so he couldn’t help but look shocked. Guilt seemed to creep over him before it was covered up with denial and anger. He scoffed and walked past you toward the bedroom. He didn’t make it before you had spun him around yelling this time. “WHY THE HELL DID YOU CHEAT!”

“SHUT THE HELL UP WOMAN! I DIDN’T DO SHIT! Who the fuck filled your head with such idiotic thoughts? Did you go out with those idiots again? Was it raccoon eyes or maybe that shitty Deku. Whoever told you that is a liar and needs a fucking hobby?” Bakugou yanked his arm away before heading into the bathroom to shower, no doubt to hide the evidence of his infidelity. You wanted to keep shouting and accusing him, but you knew it was pointless. If Bakugou thought he was innocent then he was no matter what kind of proof you had, which was none. Giving up was not an option and as much as this was your home you had to leave. Your chest tightened as you packed your bags. The only sound keeping you company was the shower Bakugou was currently occupying. You wrote a note and gently placed it onto your pillow before turning to leave. You felt your heart stop as Bakugou stared at you wide eyed. You felt like a deer in the headlight. He walked toward you, his hand reaching behind you to grab the note. He read it to himself before burning it in his grip. You flinched at the heat the radiated directly to your left. Bakugou growled as he loomed over you. “So, you’re leaving huh. You think you can just write a fucking note and disappear into the night. You aren’t going anywhere.”

A scream escaped as he grabbed you pushing you into the bed. His hands holding your arms above your head. He smirked as his towel fell at his feet. His grip tightened when you resisted. His knee pushing your legs apart. He shifted onto the bed never letting go of you and never moving his knee which was painfully pressed against you. “What the fuck are you doing Bakugou!”

“You think I’m cheating? Then I’ll just give you the attention you seem to be so deprived of to come up with such bullshit accusations.” You didn’t want this. You didn’t want his hand aggressively holding you down, you didn’t want his knee pushing against your crotch, you didn’t want his teeth biting into your neck like some kind of feral animal. You needed to get away. Your head smashed into his face allowing you the time you needed to get out from underneath him. He cursed while holding his bleeding nose. You grabbed your bags bolting to the front door but before you could open it, he caught you. His arms holding your waist from behind. You let out another scream of fear and agony before the back of your head smashed into his nose, again. A growl slipped out and you finally got the door open. Before you could make your escape Bakugou’s fingers slipped into your hair yanking you back. His lips touched your ear and you could smell the blood flowing freely down his lips. “She felt a million times better than you.”

No words came out instead a choked sob and a whimper as you felt him let you go. You didn’t even hear the door slam you were already out of the apartment complex and in your car. Your hands shook as you called the only person you could think to be awake. “Hey Y/n, what’s wrong?

“Shinsou, I need you.”

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

Bakugou tried to call you a million times after you left but to no avail. You had even blocked his number. He tried to find out where you had gone but no one would share that information with him. He had even gone to your agency but all they could tell him was that you were on a leave of absence. Bakugou truly had fucked up with no sign of reconciliation. It had been a week of trying to find you and failing. Mina, Sero, Kaminari, and Kirishima claimed that they hadn’t heard from you which wasn’t really a lie. They knew that you left Bakugou and that you were crashing at Shinsou’s, but they had yet to visit. Everyone was worried about you, but they didn’t know the truth. They knew you had some kind of falling out but that was it. They had no idea what had actually happened.

“Are you going to lay in bed all day or are you going to actually get up.” Shinsou was teasing you as he slipped on his hoodie that he had to steal back from you. The day that you called him he was ready to break Bakugou’s jaw. He couldn’t believe what you had gone through and he partially felt like he was to blame for telling you about the girl, however you had the right to know that your boyfriend had been cheating on you. Shinsou had tried to make you as comfortable as he could but you were starting to get stir crazy.

“Why am I hiding when he’s the jerk who hurt me!” Shinsou shrugged as you threw his blanket off your body. You rolled out of his bed and stood in front of him pouting. He ruffled your hair while rolling his eyes at your outburst. He had dealt with multiple versions of you over the last few days. Sad, angry, regretful, spiteful, and any emotion in-between.

“Y/n, you don’t have to hide. You are safe with me, but you shouldn’t feel like you aren’t safe out there either. You can go back to your normal life. He won’t hurt you. I promise.” You knew that Shinsou was right and it was time to return to your normal life. Your arms wrap around him before you kiss his cheek thanking him. Before he can respond you run off to shower. He smiles to himself before calling out to you that he’s leaving and will see you later. After you shower you spend some time laying in bed texting Mina that you needed a girl’s day. She was in no way against it and told you she would meet you at her favorite coffee shop downtown. You changed into a cute skirt and one of Shinsou’s shirts that was a little baggy, that you tucked into the skirt. It was a casual and comfy outfit. You grabbed your purse and your phone before leaving the comfort of Shinsou’s apartment.

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

“Y/N!” Mina had trapped you in her hug eliciting a laugh from you. She pulled away and grabbed your face looking you over for any sign or marks that you could have possibly obtained from Bakugou. “You’re okay right?”

“Yes Mina. I’m… I’m not really that okay. I’m still coping with Bakugou using me, cheating on me, just overall destroying me. I’m mad at myself for trusting him for as long as I had.” You leaned your head into Mina’s hand feeling shitty once again. Mina pinched the cheek against her palm causing you to groan in slight pain. She looked sad; she was sad. She cared so much about you and it broke her heart knowing that you were still suffering. She was still missing details of what happened, but she was able to piece some things together after Bakugou drunk called her apologizing for what he had done to you. She was sick to her stomach and wanted nothing more than to call you and apologize herself. “I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there for you.”

“Mina you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m a big girl, I’ll be okay. And I haven’t been dealing with it alone. I’ve been staying at Shinsou’s.” That once sad look was quick to change into one of cat like curiosity. You had said the magic words.

“Shinsou hm.” You shoved Mina as the two of you entered the shop to actually get coffee. “I NEED ALL THE DETAILS.”

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

“Bakugou you can’t be serious.” Kirishima had been following Bakugou after they ended an all-nighter at work. Bakugou was ignoring Kirishima while heading to his destination. He had gotten a text from Kaminari that you were meeting with Mina. Kaminari hadn’t meant to send that information, he didn’t even remember sending it until Kirishima called him screaming about it. Bakugou already made up his mind, he needed to see you. To tell you how much he fucked up. He needed you back, for you to understand how much he loved you. He regretted everything he had said, he had done. Kirishima had tried to talk some sense into him but he failed. Bakugou thought what he was doing was right and stopping him meant nothing. No one gets in his way.

“Mina wait up you are walking to fast.” Mina had run ahead after seeing something in the widow of a shop that she thought would look amazing on you. You had to stop and let a few cars pass before trying to cross to meet your overly excited friend. The moment your foot moved forward your arm was yanked backward. You gasped before trying to pull it away from whoever grabbed you. As you turned to free yourself you came face to face with something worse than a stranger harassing you. Bakugou’s piercing red eyes were staring into yours, a jolt of fear rushed through you causing hair to stand up and your muscles to tense. People walked by with curiosity since neither of you tried hard to hide your identity. What was ground zero doing with Hero/Name? You didn’t care what random people on the streets were saying or thinking. What mattered right now was getting the hell away him. You yanked harder but his grip just tightened.

“Please, Y/n I need to talk to you.” His voice came out pleading. He was begging you to stay and listen but every fiber in your body told you to run or fight. You let your arm go limp like you were giving in. “Thank you.”

Bakugou smiled but that was literally smacked off his face when you swung your free arm back before delivering a swift punch. Bakugou grunted in pain letting you go so he could touch his hand to his nose. You hadn’t meant to hit him that hard but technically he shouldn’t have touched you, so it was justified. “Y/N!”

“Don’t Bakugou!” Bakugou had reached for you again while Kirishima ran at him trying to prevent this from escalating. Mina had realized what was going on by now and was running toward you. Her and Kirishima were trying to prevent exactly what was about to happen. Bakugou caught you before you could run. His hands held your arms tightly, the fingers digging aggressively into them. You could feel how hot they were, and you were scared that he would use his quirk. You didn’t want to show fear to him. Instead you mustered up a face of pure disgust. “You don’t get to touch me. LET GO OF ME!”

“Will you shut the hell up for a fucking second. I just wanted to talk to you. You disappeared and I had no idea where you went, and I was worried believe it or not. I’ve been kicking my own ass over the shit I said to you.” You stood there letting a man who cheated on you, a man who used you and hurt you, tell you that he was worried that he was regretful. He held you like you owed him this. That was all bullshit. Your shoulders shook as you dropped your head biting back tears that you felt he didn’t deserve. “I love you Y/n.”

The world had been moving just a moment ago and yet now everything seemed to stop. Time stood still but the words echoed. Mina and Kirishima faded out of existence leaving only you and Bakugou. If this was a romance movie it would be followed by you throwing your arms around Bakugou before kissing him. This was real life and you felt no positive emotions. Bakugou’s grip never loosened and his eyes remained staring intensely into your own. He wasn’t going to let you go till you responded. However, no matter how you responded if it wasn’t in favor to what he said then you may as well have remained silent. You felt your heart race from the stress he was forcing onto you. The regret reflected in the crimson orbs almost made you feel guilty. You had loved him. You had given him years of your love and he shattered in along with your trust. You had spend the week crying till your eyes were swollen, screaming until your lungs begged for a break, pleading with some other worldly being to help you get over this pain, and wondering what you could have done to prevent this from ever happening. To say you didn’t love Bakugou would be a lie. You loved him more than some stupid romance. You loved the way he growled in response when he was bothered, you loved the way he never gives up, you loved his honest laugh in which he truly thought something was funny or enjoyable, you loved the way he would kiss you and run his hand through your hair when he thought you were asleep. You loved and still love so much of him but as you look at him those feelings twist like gnarled tree branches and you feel yourself choking back vomit. When you closed your eyes you could picture a woman running her hands along Bakugou’s exposed body, you could hear them panting and moaning, you could hear the secretive whispers, and you could smell the sweet and salty after sex scent they would leave behind. These things were what you dealt with, they hallucinations that haunted you after his cruel revelation. The cheating wasn’t the only thing haunting you. His hands holding you against your will, his teeth biting into you with no consent, and the fingers that entangled into your hair pulling with enough force to bruise. You had experienced fights before, but this was had been different, you were afraid and disgusted with that version of Bakugou. This Bakugou in front of you was the same one just using sad eyes and words of endearment to trap you so he could lock you up properly and punish you for leaving.

“Y/n… please say something.” The world was moving or at least is seemed like you were a part of the rotation once again. People were watching the two of you, but you didn’t notice. You couldn’t break eye contact. Your lips were pressed so tightly together that you were afraid if you tried to open them, they would be glued shut. A dry mouth and cracking lips prompted you to have to unseal your lips as your drying tongue attempted to rehydrate your lips. What could you say that would make any of this better? Was there anything that could even be said anymore. You wanted this to just stop but didn’t know how to make that happen.

“Pro hero Mind Control has everybody on edge with the news of this important somebody he’s been hiding from us.” The moment you heard Shinsou’s hero name the world was back to normal. Your eyes broke from Bakugou’s turning to look directly at the large screen across the street. Shinsou’s figure stood proudly on the screen before it changed to an interview. You watched the woman across from him ask questions. “So, who is this mystery person that you claim means the world to you. Someone so important that you have taken off a week of hero duties to be with them. “

You were the only person on the street watching this interview play. Mina’s voice once again crossed your ears as she yelled at Bakugou to let you go. Kirishima was going to grab his friend but stopped when you gasped. Bakugou had harshly shook you to return your attention to him. His eyes held a little anger and he seemed to have lost patience. “Y/n –“

“This person is someone I love deeply; someone I’d do anything for. I want her to know what love truly is. I love Y/n L/n. Many of you know her as Hero/name…” The rest of the words faded off as you cried. Bakugou had you at the brink of them but hearing this message broadcast to the world had them freely spilling over. A laugh broke beyond your splitting lips. Your fingers dug into Bakugou’s hands yanking them off you. He looked co conflicted, anger and fear blended. You didn’t care about what he was feeling because you finally felt like something was okay. Your hands covered your mouth as you tried so badly not to squeal. You felt the happiness fade as your wrist was trapped in Bakugou’s grip. He wasn’t going to let you go without a proper answer especially now that the world knew what Shinsou thought of you. “Bakugou please let go of me. This… this is crazy. You need to let me go because I… I’m letting you go.”

Bakugou watched you pull your wrist free. He watched you look up at the screen as it played the end of the interview. A smiling Shinsou stood on the screen giving you the confidence you needed. Bakugou wanted to let you leave but he couldn’t. When he looked at your smile, he couldn’t help remembering the times it was for him. You were his everything and now you were slipping from his fingers and into the arms of another man. You turned away from Bakugou smiling at Mina who was also shedding tears. Kirishima finally moved forward and caught his best friend’s arm. Bakugou looked back at Kirishima who mouthed for him to stop. He quickly looked back at you. You were now wrapped safely in Mina’s arms. The two of you sharing a moment that would live with you forever. He let his shoulders drop before turning around. He shoved off Kirishima’s arm before his hands found a home in his jacket pockets. He left you under the screen, now playing an advertisement for some useless product, hugging your best friend while crying over a happiness that you deserved. He walked away, one million regrets coursing through his veins. The one thing he wouldn’t regret was you.

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

“Where the hell are the rest of the guests.” You rolled your eyes while Momo held your face still. You could hear Mina bitching in the background about the missing members of your former class. She had made sure that everyone had been invited and was keeping tabs of who had arrived. You could hear Uraraka enter the room with an excited scream. She could see your refection in the large mirror in front of you. Mina grabbed onto the girl so they could be over excited together. You felt so much joy watching them feel this happy for you. Momo had been doing you hair and makeup for what felt like hours and you needed to get into the dress hidden behind the bag hanging on the door. You felt a million things; nervousness, excitement, utterly in love. Not once did you feel regret. You could never regret this. You were about to spend the rest of your life with the person that you loved and truly loved you. It had only been six months since the day you and Bakugou had the confrontation in the middle of a busy street, the same one that broadcast the life changing news.

“Y/n!” You turned after the third time your name was yelled. Mina was pouting holding up the dress. She had a shimmer in her eyes and you almost told her not to cry or she’d ruin her makeup. She’d just tell you to shut up. “Yes Mina.”

“It’s time.” All three girls in the room with you had that glossiness to their eyes as they watched you slip the dress on. It fit perfectly, like it was meant to. You were a different person as you stared at your reflection. This was something you had always dreamed about and here you were living a fantasy, but it wasn’t. It was reality. A knock on the door was followed by the voice of Sero. “Let’s get this show on the road ladies.”

The girls opened the door shoving through the waiting boys who were cackling until they saw you. Kaminari pretended to faint while Sero whistled. Both boys admired you and they honestly thought you looked beyond stunning. You were a single star in an almost pitch-black sky, you just needed to walk down an aisle to find another star so you wouldn’t be so lonely. The music started up and you nodded at your best friends. They smiled back leading the way to your destiny.

“Nervous?” Midoriya had whispered to Shinsou as he stood next to him. He looked over the crowd or friends and former classmates. They all watched with bated breath. You were the star of this event. Of course, Shinsou was nervous. He was marrying the girl of his dreams, the person that gave him purpose. Shinsou watched and when you arrived at the end of the aisle, he felt everything disappear. The guests were gone, his friends gone, the whole world meant nothing. It was black and you were the only light he could see. The way your hair was styled held together by pins and clips hidden underneath a white veil. You were a mystery that he already knew everything about. Like a child who still waited for gifts on Christmas but knew Santa wasn’t real. The way your skin shimmered like rare and brilliant gemstones made Shinsou feel like he wasn’t worthy. Your dress moved so smoothly around and against every curve and bump your body had. Your body made the dress gorgeous, gave it value. He couldn’t see your eyes behind the veil, but he could imagine them. They held stars in them, creating galaxies that he had gotten lost in so many times. Your eyes had depth to them, they told a story and its cliché but its his favorite story. Shinsou hadn’t realized he was crying until your hand gently touched his cheek. Your veil had been flipped over your head revealing your own tears. Shinsou leaned into your touch his own hand moving to cup your face as well. If it hadn’t been for the vows, he would have kissed you right then. You both shared a silent moment of unconditional love before the wedding continued.

The vows could have been skipped because anything you both had to say then you had already said before. No words could ever truly describe how you felt about each other because it was more than just words. Your relationship was based on actions, words, looks, gestures; everything and anything you both did for and around the other mattered as an expression of love. He had tried so hard to make up for everything you had to suffer, and he knew that you might have moments where you questioned him, but he always made sure to have answers or words of reassurance. He never wanted to hurt you and he swore on his life that he wouldn’t.

“I do.” You had spoken the binding words and Shinsou followed. The kiss was simple and yet it held so much meaning. It meant more than the rings. It was something Shinsou would never forget. Everyone cheered and some people cried. Mina was holding onto Uraraka both girls sobbing, Midoriya squeezed Shinsou’s shoulder giving him a thumbs up while his own ducts betrayed him.

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

“You look so god damn beautiful.” A drunk Kaminari was hanging off you while you chatted away with guests. Mina yanked him off scolding him for his behavior before shooing him away. You laughed not minding at all. While you stood amongst friends who showered you with congratulations and compliments, Shinsou stood leaning against one of the walls near the bar. He had watched you cherishing these moments. He turned when he heard a familiar voice enter his vicinity. He turned in time to see Kirishima and Bakugou walking toward you. He was quick to make his way back to your side in case of any bad blood. Bakugou scoffed when Shinsou appeared but didn’t give him any attention. You smiled at the blonde and red head. Kirishima told you how happy he was for you before leaving the three of you alone.

“Are you happy?”

“Yes.” It was the simplest exchange you had ever had with Bakugou, but it meant a lot to you both. He needed to know that you had finally found the love and happiness you desired and deserved. You needed to know that he was able to let you go without fight. He nodded and hugged you whispering his congratulations. You thanked him before Momo’s voice came over the speakers announcing the first dance starting. Shinsou waved you to the dance floor promising to join you in a moment. He waited for you to leave before looking at Bakugou. Bakugou waited for a threat or some kind of scolding but nothing came. Shinsou remained silent. Bakugou took this opportunity to speak.

“Thank you for taking care of her. I can tell you make her happy and that’s what really matters.” Shinsou still remained silent and Bakugou continued. “I do have a question though. Y/n said I had been cheating and in an angry moment I basically said I was even though I hadn’t done so. Shitty hair told me you told her you had seen me with some woman. I don’t remember going to that restaurant with anyone other than coworkers or interviewers.”

“I lied.” Bakugou stood there frozen with wide eyes. He slowly turned to catch a glimpse of Shinsou’s smirk and a slight darkness behind his eyes. “I lied to Y/n about seeing you with some broad. I knew she would believe me, and I had my doubts about your faithfulness. I should be thanking you for verifying my lie. You made a single lie into an irrefutable truth all because you wanted to hurt her”

Shinsou walked away heading toward you. He never spared Bakugou a second glance as he grabbed your hands kissing them. You giggled before the music began. Bakugou stood with Shinsou’s reveal on his shoulders. In the end he was the one who destroyed your trust but Shinsou admitted to planting the seed of doubt. But all that mattered now was your happiness, right?

#bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #mha bakugo katsuki #shinsou x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #bnha shinso hitoshi #bnha #bnha shinsou #mha #mha imagines #shinsou hitoshi #bnha imagines

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neutron-stars-collision · 3 years

Text

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 5 - A Question of Trust

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Summary: First day in New York brings new challenges and fears. But one thing is certain, your relationship with Neil is changing.

Warnings: Minor cursing.

Author’s Notes: So this is sort of an unplanned early update because I loved what I wrote and had to share it with you. Hope you enjoy this quieter chapter before things kick off very soon...

Also this has been severely inspired by ‘A Question of Lust’ by Depeche Mode so I’ll post the link in another post!

Despite being severely jet-lagged, the next two days, you did not get much rest. You and Neil were thoroughly briefed by the TP on Saturday, and the plan seemed simple: arrive in New York; check into the hotel; research the target (a weapons dealer named Steiner); set up a meeting with Mr. Steiner; rehearse the cover; get intel; leave New York unscathed but with valuable information.

You have received a Glock (just in case), a burner phone with emergency contacts, and a dossier filled with the information about your cover. As far as you have managed to learn so far, you and Neil were supposed to pose as ‘partners in crime’ hoping to get your hands on the mysterious nuclear material. It did seem easy. But that did not help the stress you felt the closer you got to the departure.

Monday morning, you stepped onto the Amtrak train to New York Penn Station and followed Neil to the First-Class compartment. You had two seats with a large table and a window in a relatively quiet carriage. This time, sadly, you have not taken your notes with you and have been desperately looking for a distraction. Neither of you has mentioned the moment on the terrace, and you felt like it was a cause of mild tension. But instead of addressing it in any way, you decided to stare out of the window. After going through the same onboard magazine for the third time, you heard Neil clear his voice deliberately. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow:

“I’m bored” he shrugged and grinned at your eye roll “Want to talk?”

You searched his face for any signs of wicked intents. But he seemed genuinely interested.

“As long as you won’t make me drink again and embarrass myself” you turned towards him with a pointed look.

“I promise” he smiled and leaned onto the table separating your seats

“However I must correct you and say that you haven’t embarrassed yourself on the plane” when you glared at him with disbelief, he added “At all”

“If you say so”

His piercing blue eyes were fixed on you with fondness that made you want to turn away. But you held his gaze until he grinned and asked:

“Excited to go on your first mission?”

“If by excited you mean scared then yeah” he laughed, and you beamed back “Though I suppose if my first outing is with you I should consider myself lucky”

“Oh you’re certainly lucky in that regard” he winked, grinning smugly “I’ll keep you entertained”

The smirk and look in his eyes were far from innocent and you felt your face heat up at the sight. But you did not want to let him win easily.

“I’ve no doubts about that” you stared back defiantly.

Your staring contest finished when he smiled and reached out for your hands that were folded on the table. He squeezed them.

“We’ll manage just fine together, I’m sure. It’s a simple mission” he reassured you softly.

“Can’t say I’m convinced” you looked back sceptically and frowned “I’m a bit surprised you’re willing to go into the field with a rookie”

“TP said it has to be us” he shrugged and leaned back into his seat.

Your hands felt cold without his touch.

“You do trust him enough to do anything he says?” you asked with curiosity.

All that you have learned during the meeting with the Protagonist was still fresh on your mind. You struggled to understand how on earth you could be important to the story. But it was made quite clear that you would have to wait for any answers.

“Yes” Neil’s tone was quite serious “I’ve learnt from past mistakes that he really does know how things will go”

You haven’t missed the distant look of sadness in his eyes. You made a mental note to one day learn the story. He must have noticed your scrutiny as he schooled his features and added:

“And it’s better to listen to him. No matter how difficult it might be” he looked at you with a faint smile.

You did wonder if he thought about the moment on the terrace in that instant. But before you could dare ask, he closed the subject with a definite statement:

“I know for a fact that you’ll be much better than a random rookie” he grinned, and despite feeling conflicted, you smiled back.

Then he quickly changed the topic to New York itself, and you rather enjoyed talking to him about your travels and experiences with other cities. While you were still stressed, when you arrived at Penn Station, you were much less tense. The conversation has distracted you enough to forget about the worries. You wondered if that was why Neil wanted to talk in the first place.

*** You took a taxi to the hotel, which was situated far off from the main city centre. It was a comfortable and stylish four-star establishment with a booking system that did not mind fake identities. Your rooms were on the sixth floor and were joined by a set of locked doors, as you were informed by the receptionist (with a wink). You were not sure what to do with this information but, as usual, Neil’s charm saved you.

“Thank you, miss” he smiled at the clerk and snatched your keys from the counter “It’s good to know” he smirked and walked away.

You followed him to the lift, where you could finally ask:

“What was that about?”

“I suppose she thought that we’re not here for…” he took a moment to think about the right word “Strictly business reasons” he enunciated every syllable “But rather for fun while keeping up the appearances”

Your eyes widened at the implication.

“Right” you didn’t dare think why she got that impression.

Neil chuckled as he led you to the rooms, pausing to hand you the key. Only once you saw him open the door to his room you sobered up:

“Wait, what do we do now?”

“Come to my room once you’re ready. I won’t lock the door” he winked and disappeared into his room.

You stared at the closing door before shaking your head and entering your own room.

He can be impossible sometimes, you thought with fondness and disbelief.

The room was quite big, with a queen-sized bed, a sofa with a coffee table, and a large bathroom. The view came out onto the maze of skyscrapers that you associated with New York. The barely visible sky was grey and threatening with rain. You decided to quickly shower, change into more comfortable clothes, and fix your make-up. All that took twenty minutes and you were quite proud of yourself. You opened the door leading to Neil’s room and hesitated at the second set. Trying the handle you found it unlocked and tentatively came in.

“Finally” he gave out a theatrical sigh from his place on the sofa.

He changed into yet another shirt and dress trousers. You did sometimes wonder how many sets of those he had.

The next thing you noticed was that while you were getting ready Neil has ordered quite a big selection of food from the room service. It has taken the whole space on the coffee table, along with water and teapot.

“Wow” you grinned at the sight, feeling your stomach rumble.

“Thought we might need it” he shrugged and motioned for you to join him on the sofa.

“I know I did” you quickly dove for the toasties before he could snatch them.

He laughed at your enthusiasm for food, but you could not care less at the moment. You felt his fond gaze for a little longer before he too started the feast. After you ate, Neil cleared the table and spread out the dossier along with any files you received.

“So…” you both looked down at the mess of papers and photos “Today we need to get to that bar” you squinted at the name “Benny’s and set up a meeting with Steiner?” you looked up at Neil for clarification.

“Yeah, that’s it” he nodded and picked up one of the documents “We’re a pair of weapon dealers who want to know a bit more about that mysterious piece of plutonium” he explained.

“That’s a manageable cover” you mused while trying to memorise your new identity.

“Well, I was hoping they’d make us fake married or something” Neil retorted innocently, and you glared at him sharply.

“What? Wouldn’t you want to be married to me?” the wounded look on his face made you laugh.

“Sounds horrible” you swatted his arm playfully and reached for another document.

But before you got that far, he grabbed your hand and squeezed it. You met his soft gaze and smiled back, admiring the sparks in his blue eyes. After a beat, he let go of your hand.

“I think we’d be a perfect match” he sent you one last smug smile and got up “We should get going if we want to catch Raul and establish contact” he added.

A perfect match? You observed as Neil put on the tie and suit jacket and considered his words with curiosity. You did like him, there was no denying that. And you felt like he enjoyed your company too. But before you could dwell on it too long, you felt his intense gaze. Caught in the act of staring, you felt yourself blush. But he only grinned and offered you a hand to get up from the sofa.

“C’mon, we need to get going” he ushered you towards your room.

Right, first mission. You took a deep breath and started to get ready. The time has come.

*** The first part of the plan went without any major fuck-ups. You and Neil met Raul at the bar, and he gave you all the information you could need about Steiner. It was clear that you both had to learn your roles perfectly as he tended to be suspicious. After that Neil went away to set up the meeting with the weapons dealer for tomorrow’s evening. All you could do was entertain Raul with random stories from your training which proved rather easy.

Once Neil came back, you both decided to go back to the hotel to get much-needed rest and prepare. The fact that so far everything seemed to go along the plan, made you feel a tiny bit more confident. But nerves were still there, and you could barely contain them when you made it back to the hotel. You lied to Neil that you were tired and shut the door before you could even look at him again.

But after showering, changing into sleeping clothes, and having a cup of herbal tea, nothing got better. You tried lying down in the darkened room only to quickly get up with a pain in your chest and shallow breath. After sitting in the dark and trying to calm down your racing thoughts for close to an hour, you gave up. You put on a cardigan and looked at the door leading to Neil’s room. It was past 1 AM but you had the feeling he was not sleeping. You knew there was no way you were able to rest now. Oh, why the hell…

You tried the handle of the connecting doors and found it unlocked. Of course.

Neil’s room was covered in darkness, save for a bedside table lamp casting a warm glow. You were struck by how neat everything looked, with his suitcase in one corner and clothes folded on the chair. Only the bed was in disarray with papers thrown on it and Neil himself sat in the middle. He glanced up as you came in, surprised:

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“I tried but…” you shrugged helplessly “Just couldn’t get my brain to shut up”

The worry in his gaze made you freeze. He was sat on the bed with ruffled hair and a wrinkled shirt. He was probably very tired. And you were weak and overreacting again. Suddenly you realised what a mistake it was to come here:

“Sorry, I shouldn’t… I’ll go now” you blurted and started to turn away.

You heard the rush of papers falling onto the floor and then Neil’s voice.

“No, stay” he sounded concerned.

Slowly you turned around to face him again, trying to put on a brave face. It was pointless though because he saw right through you. He got up from the bed, scattering all the documents onto the floor. Seeing you hesitate, he crossed the distance and took your hand in his, guiding you towards the bed. That only increased your panic.

“What are you doing?” you tried not to step on all the papers “Don’t we need those?”

He looked down at the pile with a surprised look, almost as though he forgot about them. Then he quickly made up his mind and looked up at you with determination.

“We do. But more so I need you to calm down so get in” he gestured towards the bed.

Your mind was blank. There was so much that could go wrong. But he noticed your uncertainty and unceremoniously pushed you onto the bed. You stared in shock before recovering enough to retort:

“You know I’m pretty sure there are better ways to make a lady sleep with you” You heard him laugh as he collected the pages.

“Certainly” finally he got up and dumped the pile onto the coffee table “But it worked” he shrugged.

Neil watched as you clumsily shifted to sit up with your back against the headboard and then joined you. After a few minutes of awkward silence, you asked:

“Sure you don’t want me to leave so you can go back to work?”

You felt extremely self-conscious in your sleeping clothes, with uncombed hair and tear-streaked cheeks. Neil’s intense gaze did not help it either but before you could even think about getting up, he replied:

“Perfectly sure” he smiled at you softly “Now tell me what’s wrong”

You sighed and let yourself relax slightly, leaning on the pillows. Staring straight ahead at the wall, you explained:

“I felt very anxious and hoped that maybe the shower and tea will help. Nothing changed so I tried to go to sleep but… my chest started aching and I couldn’t breathe” you finished while feeling the tears well up at the recollection.

You felt the bed shift as Neil moved closer and took one of your hands. You watched with curiosity as he traced the lines of your veins to the pulse point on the wrist and held his pointer finger there, checking your heart rate. You felt a nervous flutter at the gentle way he cradled your hand. You were pretty positive he will detect a pulse of 100bmp. After thirty seconds of intense focus, Neil released his hold on your hand and smiled:

“Apart from a very fast heart rate, you’ll be fine” he winked, and you looked down flustered.

But you were not allowed to get lost in shame for too long as he scooted even closer, leaving no space between you, and gingerly placed his arm around your shoulders.

“Is this okay?” he asked, looking at you with genuine concern.

Your breath hitched at the closeness of him, but you quickly suppressed the feeling and nodded. After a few more tense breaths, you relaxed into the embrace, feeling him trace circles on your shoulder.

“What made you so scared?” his voice broke the comfortable silence.

“Think it’s just the idea of the first mission” you admitted “And ever since you and TP told me about the plan and the algorithm, I felt this tension rise and I guess it just hit the fan” sighing helplessly, you let your head rest on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, I probably would have been more concerned if you took all this without questions”

“I guess I reacted that way because I never expected to be important… Definitely not in something of that scale” once you started talking the honesty did not seem to stop “I’ve spent so much time looking for my place in the world and now when I think I’ve found it, I’m not sure I’m good enough”

After your admission, you felt Neil’s embrace tighten. You propped your head on his shoulder, so it was resting in the crook of his neck again, enjoying the warmth and safety.

“You are more than good enough” when he finally spoke you were almost surprised “And I’m not only saying that because I believe in what TP says”

You looked up at Neil and met his earnest gaze.

“Since the day we met and I showed you how inversion works, I knew that you will be amazing at it” he smiled at you softly.

“Even though I nearly passed out in the training zone?”

“Yeah” he grinned at the memory fondly “I just had the feeling that you’re supposed to work with us, with me”

You would swear that his eyes briefly glanced at your lips. But as quickly as the thought entered your mind, he reached out to brush away a stray hair from your forehead and you lost the ability to think entirely. He tucked the strand with care and brushed your jawline with his thumb.

“TP was right, you know” he was looking at you with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

“About?”

“Me taking care of you” he smiled and admired your dazed expression. You could only stare, too overwhelmed with feelings to say anything. And you probably would have kept on staring if it was not for the extreme tiredness that begun to catch up. Before you could say anything, a wide yawn made you cover your face with your hands. The spell was broken.

“Think you’re tiny bit tired” Neil grinned at your sheepish expression.

“No shit” you mumbled and moved to get up, but he kept his grip steady.

“You can stay here” he answered your surprised glance.

You quickly considered the options, admitting that it was tempting. You felt safe with Neil and his presence definitely made you calmer. But it did feel like crossing some lines.

He was still looking at you with that hopeful eyes and that sealed the deal.

“Thanks… for everything” you smiled at him, hoping to convey even a quarter of what you felt through it.

“Always” he grinned back.

You both quietly shifted so that you were lying down with a small gap between you, both staring at the ceiling. After a few quiet moments, he turned off the bedside lamp and turned to face you.

“Good night” you heard him whisper and turned to look at him too.

“Sweet dreams, Neil” you replied while trying to make out his features in the darkness of the room.

“Oh I know they will be sweet” you could picture the sly grin.

And with that, he turned onto the other side. No longer than five minutes later you heard his breath level off and make way for quiet snores. You could not help but smile at the adorable sound. Maybe this night wasn’t so bad in the end.

*** You have not slept so soundly in days. When you woke up, the first thought that came to your mind was that you were being cuddled. An arm was thrown over your waist and you felt warm breath near your ear. Then as the morning fog slowly ascended, you remembered it all clearly. Neil. As though he was reading your mind, a second later you felt him stir and mumble:

“Morning sunshine” he sounded cheery.

Before you could react you felt him brush his lips over your temple. You froze, feeling the flutters in your stomach return with tripled force. Taking a deep breath to calm down you slowly squeezed the hand that was draped over your waist and sat up.

“Hi” you glanced at him only to be astounded by how unkempt and yet adorable he looked.

His hair was completely ruffled, with strands sticking out in every direction. And the shirt and trousers were crumpled to the point of needing starch treatment to ever be wearable again. And yet he still looked good. Especially with that boyish smile and sparkling eyes. One could suppose that you were not immune to him. At all.

“Do you always sleep in that?” you gestured towards his outfit, trying to divert your thoughts.

“No, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you last night” it was that shit-eating grin again “Did you sleep well?” he sat up now too but kept his distance.

“Very well” you admitted with a blush “But it’s late and we should probably prepare” you used the most sensible excuse to get up.

Before you could do that, Neil reached out and took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers.

“Just don’t you dare feel sorry for this” you knew he was serious from the look in his eyes.

“I’ll try” you smiled slightly and used this chance to leave his room in haste.

While you did indeed try not to feel embarrassed about what happened, it was difficult. You were not used to people seeing you as vulnerable as you were last night. But at the same time, he did not seem to mind and that took you by surprise. His kindness and thoughtfulness were certainly not helping in trying to be more objective about him.

You managed to get changed and prepare yourself for the day relatively fast, considering what a mess your thoughts were. Once you were done you grabbed the needed documents from the coffee table and made beeline for Neil’s room without thinking too much. As usual, the door was unlocked.

The moment you stepped into his room you knew you have fucked up. He was there, just in front of where you entered, in a new pair of trousers and no shirt. Your eyes widened when you registered that last detail.

“Shit, sorry! I shouldn’t just come in…”

“No worries, darling” Neil drawled out the nickname expressively.

He looked at you with a grin, clearly enjoying it more than you were. It seemed as though he slowed down the process of putting on a new shirt just to tease you. It worked. You stared at his rather fit body and felt your cheeks grow warmer. He caught your wandering gaze with a wink and held it with an expression that was far from innocent. The knowing smirk told you that he was aware of what he was doing. But still, you held your ground, letting yourself openly look at his toned arms and chest. If he didn’t mind then there was no harm in looking, right?

Finally, he finished the process of buttoning up the shirt, while still keeping his gaze fixed on you. He assessed your expression with one last look and grinned:

“Let’s get to work, sunshine”

You wanted to punch him in that perfect jaw.

#tenet #Neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet imagine #neil tenet fanfic #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #the art of inversion

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rebornthestage · 3 years

Text

Hayashida Kohei x Takasaki Shungo: New “Varia Quality” created from a literary adaptation; Vivid contrast between motion and stillness

[This is a translation of Xanxus & Squalo’s actors’ interview for Secret Bullet. They haven’t received the script at this point, so they mostly talk about their personal thoughts and views on the characters and the cast based on the VS Varia arc and the novel. Link to the original article can be found in the Content Source.]

A new “Varia quality” born from the novel

First off, how did you feel when your heard that “X-Fiamma” would be adapted into a stage play, and that Varia would be the main characters”? Takasaki Shungo (Squalo): I was in disbelief. Like, “Can we really have an RTS without Tsuna (Sawada Tsunayoshi)..” That’s why while I was happy (about the new play), I also wondered if it really was okay to do it. (laughs) Hayashida Kohei (Xanxus): I was like, “It’s headed in this direction, huh”. Storywise, I had assumed they would go with the Future arc next. Takasaki: For us though, it was very convenient timing since it’s right after we did the 2-part VS Varia arc. Hayashida: That’s true. We could do it again with the same cast. Takasaki: While we do feel some pressure at getting to do the prequel after we all had just finished fighting, we’re also happy about it.

This time, the play is adapted from the novel and not the manga. What did you think about the novel after reading it? Hayashida: It was interesting. Varia in the novel has a little different feel from the one in the Ring Battles. Perhaps it’s because the novel “X-Fiamma” was written after the manga’s Varia arc, but it had something that isn’t exactly “perfection”. Rather, it had a very clear idea of who the characters are. It was very fascinating. Takasaki: My impression is that it vividly showed parts that weren’t shown in the manga but readers were curious about. Reading the novel was very worthwhile to us because it clearly depicted the parts we were curious about and were unsure about when we played them in the previous plays. When I first read it, I felt that Xanxus was really cool-headed. Hayashida: Exactly! He felt really mature. I’m sure it’s thanks to it being written after the manga. Takasaki: We could feel his maturity thanks to it being in literary form. Hayashida: I realized that this was how Varia usually was. The Ring Battles was an irregular incident after all. It felt really refreshing when you realize that this is how the Varia is as an assassination squad.

What differences will we see between Varia in this play and Varia up until now? Takasaki: Personally, I’ll be trying to show Squalo as a commanding officer. In the Ring Battles, Varia was focused on Xanxus and operated with him as the head. In upcoming play however, the two of them are in different locations. Squalo is the one leading on the field while Xanxus is the one giving them directions. Squalo has not really been portrayed as a proper acting commanding officer in the stage plays up until now, so I hope people will see the upcoming play and think, “So this is how Squalo pulls a team together.” Hayashida: Meanwhile, you’ll see that Xanxus doesn’t immediately jump into the fray. (laughs) Takasaki: True. (laughs) He’s surprisingly nice. Hayashida: I don’t know if I would describe him as nice (laughs), but it was really refreshing to see him backing Ottavio into a corner using logic, and it made me feel once again that Xanxus really is smart. It was also refreshing to see Squalo and the others prattling away as they go about their tasks. Takasaki: The play is based on textual material so we have to imagine the scene ourselves, you know? So we read the novel while imagining the characters we play much more than we did in the plays based on the manga. Like, “That guy would probably move like this.” Hayashida: I agree. Since it’s adapted from the novel, this time we have a little bit more leeway on how we portray the characters.

Speaking of leeways, what differences arose in adapting a manga and adapting a novel from your experience? Takasaki: RTS has quite a lot of respect to the source material, and is determined to reenact everything faithfully to the source material. For example, some parts were produced with the manga’s depiction used as a reference for stunts or techniques. As we have no pictures as a basis this time, it does feel a little like we are coming up with them ourselves. Hayashida: Yes, that’s exactly what I wanted to say. Takasaki: Then let’s just say Kohei-san said it. (laughs)

What’s the link between Xanxus and Squalo?

Xanxus has scenes with Ottavio (played by Yamamoto Shouma), who appears for the first time on stage, doesn’t he. Hayashida: There’s mind games at play. Readers of the novel should know how it ends, but I hope to make it so that they would be on the edge of their seats even while knowing the ending. While our scenes have a more suspenseful mystery type of “stillness” with mind games unfolding, Squalo and the others have more “motion” with the action-packed missions. Hence once we manage to nail that contrast of motion and stillness, I think the end result would look artfully done. Since the majority of the Ring Battles stage plays were fight scenes, this time I too look forward to the scenes with mind games. However, there aren’t any scenes where I’ll be with the other members in the novel, so I’m a little sad… We’ve always been together up until now. (laughs) Still, we haven’t received the screenplay yet, so I’m looking forward to seeing how the stage play will deal with certain parts of the novel. Takasaki: Ottavio… How will he be portrayed? Hayashida: Right? I haven’t met Ottavio (played by Yamamoto Shouma) yet and it’s our first time working together, so I look forward to seeing how we will craft the play.

What about the role you’re playing catches your attention? Takasaki: “Voooi”, I guess.. No, I’m joking. (laughs) Although Squalo acts unrestrained, I believe there’s also a part of him that thinks it through calmly in his head. Still, his ability to straightforwardly express his feelings really makes him stand out in my opinion. Normally, our lives don’t always go as we want, does it. But he has lived his life as he liked to carry out the mission he wants to do, and that draws me in. Hayashida: Even though there are aspects of Xanxus that are unreadable and can’t be fully understood, I like that side of him which makes you suspect that he does have special feelings towards Squalo, the Vongola Nono and the Varia. He seems like he’d let out a laugh when he’s actually sad. Also, I usually waver a lot, so I like the unwavering side of him.

How have you portrayed Xanxus and Squalo’s relationship in the past 2 plays? Hayashida: It feels like Xanxus really, really dislikes him but still loves him. Xanxus came from the slums, didn’t he? But in the mafia, Squalo is an elite who is even said to be the next Varia Boss, so there’s a part of him that’s envious of that. Although Xanxus isn’t bullied at every turn for his origins, he is painfully aware of that fact. But in the end, Squalo is the one who acknowledges him and supports him the most, and I believe Xanxus himself sees that. That’s why even though Xanxus may view Squalo as a dumbass, I think part of him also feels saved by Squalo’s presence. I tried to portray their relationship with the idea that his cold attitude is probably his way of expressing his affection. Takasaki: The character Squalo has always believed that strength is everything, and I came up with my own theory to how he ended up with this belief. When you see people having something you yourself are lacking, don’t they seem brilliant in your eyes? I think what Squalo harbors for Xanxus is something close to that. They have been in Varia together for a very long time and Squalo even knows Xanxus’ past and the secret to his strength. He probably admires people who have qualities he lacks. Also, I think Squalo feels a little special to be the only who has been confided with his past.

A goldmine of contrasts? Introduction to the rest of the Varia cast

Now I’ll ask questions unrelated to your roles. What do you admire about each other as an actor? Hayashida: I’ve worked with Shungo once before RTS. Initially, I thought he seemed really serious, but he’s actually surprisingly easygoing. He always has a distinctive kind of adaptability that I really like. Takasaki: Thank you. (laughs) my impression of Kohei-san has always been the same since the start. He’s an acting nut in a good way. You can feel it in your bones that he really likes acting. It’s exciting, performing with him. I really respect him for thinking about acting around the clock. He’s a very good senior as an actor. Hayashida: Thank you~

By the way, are there things about the other person that changed your initial impression of him or you thought was surprising? Hayashida: As we worked together, he became more relaxed and it’s really nice. He’d soothe your nerves now and again. Takasaki: Kohei-san, are people usually intimidated by you when they first meet you? Hayashida: Meeting new people makes me tense. Takasaki: So you were nervous. (laughs)

Based on your interactions backstage and on SNS, the Varia cast seem to be a close-knit group. Can you introduce each of the cast in a few words? Start with Takagi Katsuya, who plays as Lussuria. Hayashida: (Lussuria’s actor Takagi) Katsuya-san has my full trust, truly. Takasaki: He’s a really good older brother to us and brings everyone together. He’s really nice. Hayashida: He’s so nice that it’s a little scary. After all, sometimes he’s being nice but his eyes look murderous at a glance. (laughs) Takasaki: He’s also well-versed in a lot of things, so he’s a stimulating person to converse with. Additionally, sometimes he’s become so into his role that it’s like he really is Lussuria in real life. It's scary. (laughs) Hayashida: That’s true. Every now and then he naturally does things that are quite like Lussuria. (laughs)

Next, can you tell us about Levi A. Than’s actor, Yamaki Takanori? Hayashida: He's also an interesting one. While he is knowledgeable and has a talkative side, he also has a sensitive, airheaded side to him. He’s the kind of guy that’s quick on the uptake. Takasaki: Yes, he also seems sensitive to me. We’re the same age so we talk often, he really felt like someone with an airheaded and mischievous side while also possessing a serious side. Hayashida: Sometimes he has a peculiar way of thinking, but then he also acts recklessly at times. (laughs) He has quite a mysterious vibe.

How about Belphegor’s actor, Oomi Shoichiro-san? Hayashida: Omi-chan… I want to say he’s funny, but he’ll be ecstatic when he hears about it, so I don’t want to actually say so. (laughs) Takasaki: They filmed the backstage footage for the previous play, and that kid is a genius. He puts on an amazing act for the camera. It’s really funny. Ah, I ended up saying he’s funny. (laughs) Hayashida: It was inevitable. He really is funny after all. Takasaki: He’s super stoic when it comes to acting though. Hayashida: He has a very high sense of professionalism. He’s hardcore like that. That’s why I believe Oomi is actually really manly. That side of him is very charming. But behind the scenes he’s always trying to make us laugh. Takasaki: I totally get what you mean when you said he was manly. He’s very stubborn on certain things when it comes to acting. But normally he’s really good at picking up on the mood, so I’m really glad he’s in Varia. Hayashida: When you’re troubled, all you have to do is talk about Oomi. He’ll react with “Not again!!” in a really shrill voice, and then you’ll end up fooling around with him before you know it. (laughs)

And how about Mammon’s actress Kai Chihiro-san, the sole woman in the Varia cast? Takasaki: We’re so close-knit with Kaichi that I feel like she could be in the same dressing room as us. She’ll definitely protest vehemently though. (laughs) She seems whimsical but she actually has a lot of thoughts in mind. Hayashida: And I think she may be the one who loves Varia the most. Takasaki: She’s the kind of person who gets attached to people. I think her ability to treat others with respect really stands out.

Lastly, how about Mosca’s actor Kudo Shoma-san? Hayashida: He’s very grounded, and feels as though he has a brazen side to him. He’s also got a strong sense of responsibility. Takasaki: He’s a suit actor, so he’s very well-versed and is meticulous when it comes to performing. Mosca has no lines, but he has great presence because he is being played by Shoma-san. While he is brazen as a pro, he actually has a delicate and adorable side to him once he’s not playing his role anymore. That contrast really gets me. Hayashida: Mosca was first played by Yokochin-san (Yokota Ryo), so Shoma inherited this role from his senior. He carried a great sense of professionalism in fulfilling his responsibilities. He could tell how meticulous he was from how he figured out what Mosca’s initial movements should be like.

In this play, Higuchi Yuta joined the cast as another actor for Belphegor. Takasaki: I’ve worked with him before, and he can handle anything that’s thrown to him so he’s very dependable. Hayashida: This is the first time we have a double casting, so we too are looking forward to it. Takasaki: Yuta will probably take a totally different approach from Omi-chan, so I think he’ll give us a fresh take on the role.

So both their performances are a must-see! Takasaki: (The 2 Belphegors) will without a doubt affect our acting too, in my opinion. I recommend watching both versions.

Since “Secret Bullet” is the title, what is your “trump card”? Hayashida: I adopted a kitten recently, and it’s so cute that it makes me care less about anything else. (laughs) That’s why I consider it a secret bullet. Takasaki: Wow, nice one! For me… I started cooking more recently and often use honey as a secret ingredient. I think honey really can be used anywhere. That’s why it’s a secret bullet… (laughs)

Lastly, is there anything else you would like to say about the play, and any messages for the fans? Hayashida: First off, as a Varia member, I truly appreciate all the support that’s been given to the 2 “VS Varia arc” plays. I will do my utmost best for this upcoming play to be a step in the right direction for the next one. The 2 stories may be unrelated, but we have a friendly rivalry going on. Given what’s currently happening in the world right now, we hope… no, we’ll definitely give an entertaining performance! By all means, please do look forward to it! Takasaki: There’s a big difference this time. Maru-san (Maruo Maruichirou) is not the director this time but Yoriko Jun-san since the play was based on the novel. Hence I think we’ll be able to depict the play in a totally different way from the previous plays. Of course there are still aspects of it that will remind you that this is still Reborn The Stage, but do look forward to a fresh take on some things. Given what’s currently happening in the world right now, it once again makes us very thankful that we were allowed to do a play. With all that into consideration, we hope you provide you all with some entertainment.

#katekyo hitman reborn #khr #reborn the stage #secret bullet #hayashida kohei #takasaki shungo #translation #finally posting this after ten thousand years #another one of those why did i translate this again translations #but it was interesting reading their meta about their characters #idk maybe its because the novels are less talked about #but we hear some insight that you dont usually hear in the fandom imo #they really went and said #when all else fails you can just poke fun at omi chan #lmao #here i am finally working on the to do list ive neglected for months lol

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