#Clutch control motorcycle

[goodoldbandit]

Mastering Smooth Gear Shifting on Motorcycles: A Comprehensive Guide

With these insights, you’re well on your way to mastering the art of smooth gear shifting. Happy riding! #MotorcycleGear #BikerLife #RideSmooth #MotorcycleMaintenance #RidingTips #MotorcycleSafety

https://gob.stayingalive.in/unleashing-the-thrills-of/mastering-smooth-gear-shift.html Master smooth gear shifting on your motorcycle with our comprehensive guide. Learn essential techniques, advanced tips, and troubleshooting to enhance your riding experience. #MotorcycleTips #SmoothShifting #RidingSkills Effective gear shifting is the heart of motorcycle riding. It ensures a smooth ride,…

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : LEARNING CURVES : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Logan Howlett x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff :))

 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: Logan helps you learn to ride his motorcycle. Amidst playful teasing and heartfelt moments, you both navigate the ride and discover that the real thrill is the time spent together.

THE SUN WAS JUST BEGINNING TO SET, casting a warm orange glow over the open road as you stood by the garage, anxiously eyeing the gleaming black motorcycle parked in front of you. It was a beast of a machine, all chrome and leather, looking as intimidating as the man who owned it. Logan stood beside you, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he handed you a helmet.

“You sure about this?” he asked, his gruff voice laced with amusement.

You gave him a determined nod, though your stomach was doing somersaults. “I can handle it,” you replied, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

Logan chuckled, the sound deep and comforting, like warm honey. He leaned in close, brushing a soft kiss against your temple. “I know you can, bub. Just don’t want you to wreck my bike.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving him away. “Please, I’m more worried about wrecking me.”

With that, you threw a leg over the bike, settling into the seat. The leather was cool against your skin, and the handlebars felt solid beneath your hands. Logan watched you with an expression that was half-pride, half-amusement, like he couldn’t decide if he was more impressed or entertained by the whole situation.

“Alright, first things first,” he began, his tone shifting to something more serious. He stepped up beside you, his large hands covering yours on the handlebars. “Throttle’s here, brake’s there. And this”—he pointed to the lever—“is the clutch. Got it?”

You nodded, your heart racing as his breath tickled your ear. Having him this close, his presence so reassuring and strong, made you feel like you could take on the world. Or at least, this motorcycle.

Logan moved back, watching as you tried to start the engine. The bike roared to life beneath you, the vibration rumbling through your entire body. You couldn’t help the excited grin that spread across your face. Logan grinned back, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that always made your heart skip a beat.

“Look at you,” he teased, crossing his arms over his chest. “Natural born biker, huh?”

You revved the engine a little, testing the feel of it, but your overenthusiastic twist of the throttle made the bike lurch forward, nearly throwing you off balance. You yelped, your foot slamming down on the ground to steady yourself. Logan burst out laughing, his deep, throaty chuckle filling the air.

“Okay, maybe not a natural,” you muttered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Logan was at your side in an instant, his laughter softening as he rested a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You’re doin’ fine. Just ease up a little. The bike’s gotta trust you, same as you trust it.”

“Since when did you get so philosophical about motorcycles?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, a sly grin spreading across his face. “I’m a man of many talents.”

You snorted, but the nervousness was ebbing away, replaced by a sense of determination. You took a deep breath, tried again, and this time, the bike moved forward smoothly, rolling down the driveway under your control. Logan jogged alongside, his eyes fixed on you like he was ready to catch you at any second.

“There ya go! Nice and easy,” he coached, his voice warm and encouraging.

You rode in a small circle, slowly getting the hang of it. Your heart swelled with pride when you saw Logan’s approving nod. Feeling a bit bolder, you gave the bike a bit more gas, picking up speed.

“Alright, hotshot, don’t get too cocky!” Logan called out, but there was a note of pride in his voice.

You were doing it! You were actually riding a motorcycle! The thrill of it coursed through your veins, the wind whipping through your hair, the powerful engine purring beneath you. You glanced back at Logan, ready to flash him a victorious grin—

—and that’s when you saw the mailbox.

“Oh shi—” You swerved, trying to avoid it, but the bike wobbled, and before you knew it, you were tumbling off the side, landing in the grass with a thud. The bike tipped over, but thankfully, it wasn’t going fast enough to do any real damage.

Logan was by your side in an instant, his concern barely masking his amusement. “You alright, sweetheart?” he asked, trying—and failing—not to laugh.

You groaned, rubbing your bruised shoulder. “I think I’ll stick to four wheels.”

Logan chuckled, helping you up before pulling you into his arms. “You did good,” he murmured against your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “We’ll try again tomorrow. Maybe leave the mailbox out of it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound muffled against his chest. “Maybe you could just drive, and I’ll hold on tight?”

Logan’s arms tightened around you, his voice softening to a rumble that you felt more than heard. “Darlin’, you can hold on to me anytime you want.” He tilted your chin up, his gaze locking onto yours, and the teasing warmth in his eyes made your heart flutter.

“You know,” you whispered, “I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”

He grinned, leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet, lingering kiss, the kind that made the world around you melt away until there was nothing but him. When he pulled back, there was a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Guess I’ll just have to keep teachin’ you,” he said, his voice low and playful. “Can’t let my girl be anything less than the best, right?”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. “Sure, Logan. Whatever you say.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and purple, you leaned into Logan’s side, the rumble of his laughter vibrating through you as you both stood there, the motorcycle forgotten. It didn’t matter that you’d wiped out on your first try. All that mattered was that you were with him, and together, there wasn’t a thing in the world you couldn’t face.

Well…except maybe that mailbox.

🏷️: @twinky-wink @fidgetingbee @astarions-girl-dinner @layladestiny8

If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know x

Also, tomorrow the first chapter of my Logan mini series will air, so stay tuned!🥳

[solxamber]

Hello! I have two things to ask:

1, Do you have a Yuusona? If so, what’re they like?

2, Neige request; A Neige with a reader a lot like the delinquent stereotype in anime. Like piercing, cutting class, riding a motorcycle, etc.

Even if you’re not still open for requests, please remember to pace yourself and take care of yourself when writing! You don’t want to burn yourself out, and there’s nothing wrong with taking a break! Remember that you are the person you should aim to please most in your writing, so it should be done on your own timeline. I hope you have a great day :)

hi! i do not have a yuusona rn! and i will take breaks when i need them, thank you for the incredibly kind message!

also this barreled out of control but i hope you like it!

Campus Scandal || Neige LeBlanche

Neige: hopeless romantic. You: begrudging (absolutely willing) participant.

or: Opposites attract— you, the resident delinquent and Neige, the campus golden boy, fall for each other.

w.c: 4k

The classroom was empty when you arrived, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh glow on the rows of desks. You glanced at the clock, scowling when you realized you’d somehow arrived thirty minutes early.

Mandatory classes weren’t your thing, but attendance on the first day was non-negotiable. Not that you cared much about school rules—your 2% attendance record spoke for itself—but you figured showing up on day one would keep the advisor off your back for a little while longer.

With a sigh, you dropped into the farthest seat in the back, kicked your feet up on the desk in front of you, and pulled your jacket over your head. Might as well get some sleep if you were stuck here. The soft hum of the air conditioning was surprisingly soothing, and soon enough, you were out like a light.

By the time other students began filing in, you were dead to the world, a picture of absolute delinquent indifference. Your tattoos peeked out from under the rolled-up sleeves of your shirt, the silver of your piercings catching the light. The sight of you—motorcycle helmet resting on the floor beside your desk, boots propped up like you owned the place—was enough to send whispers rippling through the room.

“Is that them?”

“Yeah, the one with the bike. I heard they got in trouble for skipping finals last semester.”

“Do they even go here? I swear I’ve never seen them in class before.”

The whispers grew quieter as more students trickled in, each one taking great care to avoid the seat next to you. Nobody was brave enough—or foolish enough—to risk waking you up.

Enter Neige LeBlanche.

Neige was never late. He was the type to set his alarm thirty minutes early, leave the house with a perfectly packed bag, and still have time to pick up pastries for his classmates on the way to school.

So, naturally, he was horrified when his alarm didn’t go off that morning. After rushing through his morning routine at record speed, he burst into the classroom, cheeks flushed and hair slightly out of place—a rarity for him.

The first thing he noticed was that the room was full. The second thing he noticed was the empty seat in the back, right next to someone who looked like they’d walked straight out of a biker gang recruitment poster.

Neige hesitated, clutching his notebook like it was a lifeline. He’d heard the rumors, of course. Everyone had. You were the mysterious rebel who showed up just enough to avoid expulsion, with a motorcycle that could be heard roaring across campus at odd hours of the night. You were intimidating, sure, but Neige wasn’t one to judge people based on appearances. Besides, he didn’t really have a choice.

With all the courage he could muster, he approached your desk and tapped you lightly on the shoulder. "Um… excuse me?"

You stirred, one eye cracking open to glare at him from under your jacket. “What?”

“Ah, sorry to wake you,” Neige said, his voice as soft as ever. “But… is this seat taken? It’s the only one left.”

For a moment, you just stared at him, taking in the rosy flush on his cheeks and the faint scent of sugar and flowers that seemed to follow him. He looked like the kind of person who helped old ladies cross the street and spent his weekends rescuing stray kittens.

“Whatever,” you grumbled, dropping your feet from the desk in front of you. “Do what you want.”

Neige practically beamed. “Thank you!”

He sat down, carefully placing his notebook on the desk, and tried to focus on the professor who had just started lecturing. Tried being the operative word.

From the corner of his eye, he couldn’t help sneaking glances at you. Everything about you screamed cool—your half-lidded eyes, the way your piercings glinted in the light, the lazy slouch of your shoulders like you couldn’t care less about anything or anyone. Even the scowl on your face seemed effortlessly stylish.

For the first time in his life, Neige LeBlanche felt self-conscious. His usually immaculate white sweater suddenly seemed plain. Was he staring too much? He was staring too much. What if you noticed? What if you thought he was weird?

Meanwhile, you were too busy trying to stay awake to notice anything. You caught snatches of the professor’s lecture, but most of it went in one ear and out the other. The only thing you did notice was the faint, almost nervous energy coming from the guy sitting next to you.

“Stop fidgeting,” you muttered, not even bothering to look at him.

“Ah—sorry!” Neige straightened in his seat, cheeks pink.

You rolled your eyes but said nothing more, settling back into your slouch. Beside you, Neige tried not to melt into a puddle of embarrassment. For someone so intimidating, you sure had a way of making his heart race.

And class had only just started.

Neige was screwed.

Absolutely, completely, irrevocably screwed.

Because this—this dizzying rush of warmth in his chest, this fluttering in his stomach, this unstoppable urge to look at you every other second—wasn’t supposed to happen. Not to him.

He’d been on stage in front of thousands without breaking a sweat. He’d received countless love letters and confessions, always accepting them with gentle grace before kindly turning them down.

He was not supposed to be this much of a mess over someone who, as far as anyone knew, only appeared on campus about twice a month. You were a phantom, a ghost of the school roster, a local cryptid people whispered about in the hallways.

And yet here he was, sitting in his room after class, staring at the ceiling and trying to figure out how the universe had conspired to throw him headfirst into whatever this feeling was.

It was your fault, of course. If you hadn’t looked so effortlessly cool napping in that back corner, he wouldn’t be in this situation. If you hadn’t let him sit next to you with that lazy, unimpressed nod, he wouldn’t be losing his mind. And if you hadn’t existed, period—well, Neige wasn’t sure how to finish that thought.

When he walked into class the next day, he half-expected you to be gone, vanishing back into the mysterious ether like you always did. That’s why he nearly stopped in his tracks when he saw you in the exact same spot as before, jacket thrown over your head, looking as indifferent and untouchable as ever.

His heart skipped a beat.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to calm down. It wasn’t a big deal. He was just sitting next to you because there were no other seats. No other reason.

(That was a lie. He absolutely could’ve sat somewhere else. Half the class had seats open now that attendance was starting to dwindle. But Neige LeBlanche wasn’t one to lie—except, apparently, to himself.)

He made his way to the back of the classroom, his footsteps soft as he approached your desk. You shifted slightly under your jacket, one arm draped over your face, but otherwise didn’t react.

“Good morning,” Neige said, his voice gentle.

You peeked out from under your jacket, your expression groggy but still sharp. He thought you might tell him off, tell him to get lost or take another seat. But instead, you just gave him a single nod, as if to say, Whatever. Do what you want.

Neige couldn’t help it—he smiled. Wide and bright, the kind of smile that made his eyes crinkle and his cheeks flush. “Thanks,” he said, sliding into the seat beside you.

You froze.

It wasn’t like you cared what people thought of you. You’d spent years being judged for your tattoos, your piercings, your habit of rolling into campus on your motorcycle with exactly zero regard for the stares or whispers. It didn’t bother you. You liked being the outsider, the delinquent, the one who couldn’t care less about anyone or anything.

So why the hell was your heart pounding so hard just because Neige LeBlanche had smiled at you?

You quickly averted your gaze, pretending to focus on some invisible speck on your desk. It was just a smile. A stupid, friendly smile. Nothing to freak out over.

But it wasn’t just the smile. It was the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, the way the soft flush on his cheeks made him look even more radiant, the way he looked at you like you were something more than a rumor or a passing shadow.

“What's that stare for?,” you muttered, your voice quieter than you intended.

Neige blinked, startled. “Oh! Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off, still avoiding his gaze. “Just… nothing.”

Neige nodded, biting his lip to keep from smiling again. He didn’t want to push his luck. But as he opened his notebook and started jotting down the professor’s notes, he couldn’t help stealing another glance at you from the corner of his eye.

You were sitting there, pretending to be unfazed, but the corners of your lips were slightly quirked.

And suddenly, Neige didn’t feel so screwed after all.

It was freezing.

Neige tightened his scarf as the cold bit at his cheeks, his breath visible in the night air. He shuffled down the street, the empty to-go cup in his hand a sad reminder of his dorm’s coffee machine betrayal.

He couldn’t believe this was how his midterms week was going—a late-night coffee run because he couldn’t stay awake long enough to finish his notes.

The streets were quiet save for the occasional car passing by. Neige adjusted his scarf again, grumbling softly to himself, when the unmistakable roar of a motorcycle engine split through the silence.

He turned his head just in time to see a bike pull up beside him, its rider clad in the usual mix of leather and defiance that made you impossible to miss.

“LeBlanche,” you called, your voice cutting through the cold air. “What the hell are you doing out here at this hour?”

Neige blinked, startled. “I, um…” He held up his cup like it was a shield. “The coffee machine in the dorm broke. I needed—”

You rolled your eyes. “Get on.”

“What?”

“Get. On.” You jabbed a thumb at the empty space behind you. “I’ll drop you at the coffee shop and back. You’ll freeze your ass off walking like this.”

Neige hesitated. It wasn’t like he was scared—okay, maybe he was a little scared—but it wasn’t every day someone offered him a ride on their motorcycle.

“C’mon, it’s cold,” you added, impatience flickering in your tone. “You don’t want to get sick before midterms, do you?”

That was all the convincing he needed. Awkwardly, he swung his leg over the bike and settled behind you, clutching his cup like it was his lifeline.

“Hold on tight,” you said, your voice firm.

“Oh, uh, okay.” Neige hesitated again, then gingerly wrapped his arms around your waist. His cheeks flushed as he realized how close he was to you. The warmth of your jacket, the faint scent of leather and something faintly sweet—it was… distracting.

When the engine roared back to life and the bike shot forward, Neige yelped and instinctively clung to you tighter, practically burying his face in your back.

You felt his grip tighten, his forehead resting against your shoulder, and for reasons you couldn’t quite explain, you didn’t tell him he could’ve just held onto your shoulders instead.

The ride was quick, the cold air biting at your face as you sped through the empty streets. You pulled up outside the coffee shop, parked the bike, and glanced back at him. “C’mon.”

Neige scrambled off, looking a little dazed but mostly exhilarated, and followed you inside. The warmth of the shop was immediate, and the sweet scent of coffee and pastries filled the air.

You both walked up to the counter, and Neige looked over the menu. He ordered some kind of overly sweet monstrosity with whipped cream and caramel drizzle, while you stuck with something more straightforward.

When he tried to pay, you shoved his hand away and slapped your card onto the counter instead. “I got it.”

“But—”

“Don’t argue with me, LeBlanche,” you said, cutting him off.

He looked at you for a moment, then relented with a small, flustered smile. “Thank you.”

The two of you found a table by the window, the silence between you surprisingly comfortable as you sipped your drinks.

Neige, though, was fidgeting. He glanced at you, then down at his mug, then back at you again. Finally, he took a deep breath and said, “Would you… maybe want to do this again sometime? I mean, not because of the coffee machine breaking or anything, but just—”

You raised an eyebrow, cutting him off with a laugh—one that came out louder and more incredulous than you meant. “You’re insane, you know that?”

The way Neige’s face fell made your stomach drop. His shoulders slumped, his smile faltering as he looked down at his mug, and for the first time, you realized how fragile he could look.

You cleared your throat, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I mean, yeah. Sure. We can do this again. Whatever.”

His head snapped up, his eyes wide and hopeful. “Really?”

You nodded, avoiding his gaze and hoping he couldn’t tell how flustered you were. “Yeah. Sure. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

But when he smiled—radiant and genuine, like he’d just been handed the moon—you couldn’t bring yourself to regret your answer.

Neige had a way of looking at you that made your chest tighten, like you were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. It wasn’t the kind of look you were used to—there was no judgment in it, no wariness or fear. Just pure, unfiltered awe, like you’d hung the stars in the sky.

And it scared the hell out of you.

You weren’t blind. You’d seen the way his gaze lingered on you when he thought you weren’t paying attention—the soft smiles he tried to hide behind his coffee mug, the way his face lit up when you walked into class, even on days you were late. It was written all over him: Neige was smitten.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same. How could you not? He was… everything. Kind, warm, patient in a way that didn’t feel forced or performative. He saw the best in people, even you.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it?

Neige was sunshine, pure and untouchable, and you… well, you were the storm cloud everyone avoided. People whispered when you walked by, flinched when you spoke too sharply, or straight-up bolted if you so much as scowled. You were used to it. Hell, you encouraged it. It kept people at arm’s length, where they couldn’t get close enough to disappoint you.

But Neige had never been afraid of you. He talked to you like you were normal, smiled at you like you were someone worth knowing. And now, every time you caught him staring, every time his voice softened when he said your name, you could feel the weight of his feelings pressing down on you.

You wanted him. God, you wanted him. But you knew yourself, and you knew your reputation. People like you didn’t get to keep people like Neige. He’d see the cracks eventually—the temper, the flaws, the parts of you that didn’t match the person he thought you were.

So you let him look. You let him smile. And you let yourself pretend, just for a little while longer, that none of it meant anything.

It was better this way, you told yourself. Better to let him think you were clueless than to risk ruining what you had.

But then he’d smile at you—bright and genuine, like you were the only person in the world—and for a moment, just a moment, you wondered if maybe you were wrong.

The shift in campus perception was honestly more amusing than anything. People used to scatter like birds at the sound of your motorcycle engine; now, they smiled at you nervously, whispered in tones laced with intrigue rather than fear.

You had Neige to thank for that—his perpetual sunshine seemed to have melted the icy rumors that clung to you like a second skin.

Not that you cared. Let them think you were some misunderstood rebel who just needed the "right person" to bring out your hidden soft side. Whatever. As long as no one tried to cross your boundaries, they could make up whatever fairy tale they wanted.

You were mid-thought, hands stuffed into your jacket pockets, when someone bumped into you. Instinctively, you reached out, steadying them before they could stumble.

"Ah, thank you!" they said, looking up at you with wide, shy eyes, a faint blush coloring their cheeks.

And then they smiled.

That was new. Usually, people avoided eye contact like their lives depended on it, let alone smiled at you. You stood there, blinking, thrown off by the sheer normalcy of the interaction.

It was in this moment of confusion that you noticed Neige in the distance, his usual radiant expression frozen mid-bloom. He was staring, though his smile quickly returned—but something about it was... sharper. Too sweet, like honey laced with arsenic.

Before you could process it, Neige was suddenly beside you, his sugary demeanor dialed up to eleven.

"Ah, pardon me," he said with a voice so warm it could melt glaciers. He turned to the person you'd caught, his hand gently pulling theirs from your grasp. "Thank you for keeping them company, but we'll be on our way now!"

The stranger opened their mouth to protest but quickly thought better of it under Neige’s disarmingly sweet gaze.

Without missing a beat, Neige hooked his arm around yours and steered you away, his grip firm, yet not tight enough to hurt.

"Coffee?" he asked brightly, as if nothing had happened.

You at him, raising a brow. "You good?"

His smile didn’t falter, though his hold on your arm didn’t either. "Of course! I just thought we’d get a head start before it gets crowded."

You weren’t buying it. His cheerful tone was laced with something you couldn’t quite place—possessiveness? Jealousy?

Whatever it was, it made your heart skip in a way you weren’t ready to acknowledge.

The weight of Neige's silence sat heavy between you as you parked your bike and pulled him gently to a quieter corner of campus, away from prying eyes and ears. His hand was still gripping your arm like a lifeline, but he avoided your gaze like he thought it might shatter him.

“Okay, what’s going on?” you asked firmly, voice softer than you thought yourself capable of. “Just spit it out, Neige. What happened?”

He shook his head, his hair falling slightly into his eyes, still refusing to meet your gaze. Frustration bubbled up, but it wasn’t directed at him—it was at the tears threatening to spill over in his red-rimmed eyes.

You sighed, stepping closer, and placed your hands on his face, tilting it up so he couldn’t avoid you anymore. “Look at me,” you urged, voice gentler now. “Neige, tell me what’s wrong. Who hurt you?”

The dam broke. Tears welled up and fell freely, and he didn’t say a word before throwing his arms around you, burying his face in your chest. His grip was tight, desperate, and you instinctively wrapped your arms around him, shielding him from whatever invisible storm he was weathering.

“Neige,” you murmured, your voice soft yet insistent as you ran a hand over his hair. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Just breathe, alright?”

You stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, his body trembling against yours as he clung to you. Slowly, his breaths evened out, and the tension in his shoulders began to ease.

When you finally pulled back enough to look at him, his eyes were still glassy, his cheeks flushed from both the crying and how close you were holding him. You wiped his tears away with your thumbs, your touch careful, your voice low. “Tell me what happened.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes searching your face like he was committing it to memory. Then, without warning, he leaned in and kissed you.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. His lips were soft, desperate, and warm against yours, and for a split second, you froze, completely blindsided. But then everything you’d been holding back—every stolen glance, every lingering moment, every unspoken word—burst out of you all at once. You grabbed his jacket, pulling him closer, kissing him harder, pouring all the feelings you’d been too scared to admit into that single moment.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, lips swollen and faces flushed. Neige’s wide eyes met yours, his voice trembling as he finally spoke.

“I-I thought I was losing you,” he confessed, his words tumbling out in a rush. “I’ve liked you since the day I said hello to you, and I thought—when I saw you with someone else—that maybe I wasn’t as special to you as you were to me. And it hurt. It hurt so much.”

Your heart clenched as you cupped his face again, your thumb brushing gently along his cheek. “Neige, you’re the most special person in my life. I’ve liked you too, but I held myself back because of your reputation. I didn’t want to ruin how everyone sees you.”

His brow furrowed, and for the first time since you’d known him, Neige looked genuinely upset—though it was more at your reasoning than at you. He raised a hand and gave you a weak punch to the shoulder, his pout oddly adorable. “You don’t get to decide what’s good for me,” he muttered, his cheeks still red.

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, pulling him close again. “Okay, okay. That’s fair. Then let me ask you this: Neige, will you be mine?”

The tears welled up again, but this time, they were accompanied by a bright, teary-eyed laugh. “Yes,” he said, his voice cracking as he buried his face into your neck, holding onto you like he never wanted to let go. “Of course, yes.”

The campus was abuzz the moment you and Neige stepped onto the quad together, hand in hand. Conversations hushed, heads turned, and phones subtly (or not-so-subtly) appeared to capture the moment.

There you were, the campus’s local delinquent, the untouchable cryptid who never gave anyone the time of day, walking side by side with Neige LeBlanche, the golden boy who could charm the birds out of the trees.

But what really sent the gossip mongers into a frenzy was how soft you looked. Gone was the usual detached scowl, replaced by a faint flush on your cheeks, your usual sharp demeanor melted into something almost bashful.

And Neige? Oh, he was radiant as ever, but there was an unmistakable air of triumph in the way he held your hand—a sweet, subtle smugness in his satisfied smile as he glanced at you, completely wrapped up in your presence.

The whispers grew louder with every step:

“Is that…?”

“Are they holding hands?!”

“No way. Them?!”

“Neige really bagged them?”

“They really bagged Neige?”

But honestly, who cared? You sure didn’t. Not when Neige looked at you with that gentle, heart-stopping smile, his thumb brushing lightly against the back of your hand as if to remind you he was there.

The rumors, the stares, the whispers—they all faded into white noise. None of it mattered when you had that smile aimed at you, lighting up every corner of your world and making you fall for him all over again with each passing second.

Masterlist

[the-kr8tor]

So, you get a new request so. New news reporter R on an intership x actor hobie. Its where he is on the red carpet and r is trying to get a conversation with one of them but keeps getting pushed around and hobie takes notice and then you can choose what else to do. Just thought an idea for a starting point could help ya you know. You have free creative control :DDD

Hehehehe actor! Hobie hehehehe 😍 thank you for requesting muah 😘❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, actor! Hobie, actor au, brief mention of an injury, interviewer! R, fluff

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Your head swims with anxiety as you wait beside the red carpet. Camera flashes flicker in and out, the lights are brighter than the sun, making you think that it's daytime when it's already close to ten pm. Even the high pitched screams are ringing in your head.

When you first got there earlier than usual to capture some extra snapshots of the event and to get a place near the bannister separating the media and the stars, it was all exciting. Now you can't wait to go home and have a cup of warm tea and lay in bed. But alas, being new at your swanky magazine job means that you have to do all the grunt work. You're not the one going one on one with celebrities, or even getting a full segment with them on the carpet like a famous coworker of yours. No, you're on the side, pining for even a moment of the celebrity's attention while you're dodging the paparazzi’s huge camera lenses, and trying not to get your feet stomped on by other media competitors. You swear you're about to conk someone's head with your microphone when their shoulder bumps into you too harshly.

Sighing, your camera man, James, and a fellow new hire, looks at you like he's about to run away from the scene and go to the nearest chicken shop instead.

A cherry red motorcycle suddenly appears, parking near the entrance of the event. Its rider is wearing a sleek helmet dotted with stickers and spray paint. The crowd goes wild at the mere sight of him, already knowing who's getting off the famous bike.

“You better get ready.” James nudges you as he readies his camera. “All we had was an interview with a stunt double and the main girl's best friend.���

You clutch your mic tighter. “Trust me, I'm ready. Hobie Brown isn't slipping off my grasp—!” The rowdy crowd pushes and rams towards you, almost crushing you between James and the bannister. “Shit, calm down!” The screams get louder as Hobie takes off his riding gloves, and then his helmet, revealing his handsome face. You swear you saw him grimace at the frantic crowd for a millisecond.

“Hold on! Fuck!” James tries to shield you from behind as more and more paparazzi clamor to get a picture of him. “He's not all that!” He exclaims, lifting up the very expensive camera in his hands. “You okay?”

You've managed to wiggle your hand in-between your stomach and the hard railings. A desperate attempt to protect yourself from the onslaught of screaming fans and paparazzi.

“I'm—” you wince, getting pushed more towards the metal. “Fucking stop! Where's security!?” The pushing gets too rough, and the railings in front of you shakes under the weight, tethering close to falling over.

“Oi oi!” Hobie bolts towards the carpet, stopping in front of a distressed you, pointing at the crowd. “Stop that!” When no one makes a move to stop pushing, he pushes the crowd back by himself. Finally prompting the security’s attention for some crowd control. “You're bloody crushin' her!” Is he talking about you? You're sure he's talking about you.

You look at him through your lashes, seeing him up close and personal. Now you get why some people faint after meeting him in person. The spotlights shine behind him, his honeyed eyes are full of determination as he helps push people away from you without a single worry for his red carpet outfit.

Finally, after what seems like hours, the pressure behind you diminishes and you can finally breathe. James pats your shoulder, panting in place. You nod thanks to him as you catch your breath.

“You alright, love?” Your more famous coworkers weren't joking when they said that their legs turned to jelly when they first heard his voice. His palm rests gently on your bicep, eyes soft and concerned. “You want some water?”

You exhale, swallowing down your nervous laughter. “Y-Yeah, please.”

“I'll get you some—” he turns and there's already someone with a walkie talkie handing him a bottle of water. “Thanks,” he nods at them before turning back towards you and opening the bottle for you. “Perks of bein’ famous. Here.”

You take it gladly, his warm fingers brushing against your own. “Thank you, Hobie— Mr. Brown.”

“Do I look like a Mr. Brown, love?” He gestures towards himself, pointing out his very punk red carpet outfit complete with his signature leather and spikes. It's definitely something you don't see everyday on the red carpet, especially the fishnets.

You almost choke on your water, coughing and covering your mouth. “S–Sorry, Hobie.” Coughing some more, Hobie pats your back with a lopsided smile.

His eyes turn sharp suddenly at the man beside you, glaring at the stranger. “Get your bloody foot off of her.” He says in between his teeth. You didn't even feel it, but Hobie saw it, immediately pushing the man away before you could unscramble your thoughts.

James films on the side, grinning at the interaction. He's definitely going to get that promotion. Hobie turns to him while you're trying not to cough out your whole lung. His hand is still on you to the disappointment of his obsessed fans.

“You need water too, mate?”

“No thanks, unless you're signing it, Hobie.” James jokes, earning a chuckle from him.

“Just ask, bruv, I'll sign it.” Hobie cranes his neck over to you again, practically seeing stars in your eyes now that you've settled down. “There you go, love, you look stunnin’ when you're not gettin' crushed.”

You giggle nervously, trying not to get lost in his eyes. “Um, can I interview for a second?” You mentally facepalm, you could've said something better, anything, and yet you chose that.

“I fancy a bird who takes the opportunity when it drops on her lap.” Hobie winks at you, at *you. You still can't believe it. The crowd behind you runs wild as if it was directed at them. “Ask away.”

You clear your throat and your thoughts. “Who are you wearing?”

“This ol' thing?” He lifts up the red plaid skirt like he's about to greet the queen. As if he'll do that. “A childhood mate of mine designed it for me. They don't want to be named though, said they're only doin’ it ‘cause I kept askin'” Chuckling, he leans against the railings to stay comfortable under all the scrutinizing eyes.

To your rivals’ dismay, he continues the interview with you and you only even when they're screaming to get his attention.

You smile gently at him, not the kind of polite smile you robotically give. But the kind you're genuine about, something that you give to close friends or family. “You two must be close.”

His eyes sparkle under the light, your question must've been a rare thing for him during these events when people only ask about him and rumours circling around him.

“Yeah, been mates since we were eatin’ glue.”

“You ate glue?” You joke, and he beams at your laugh.

“Who doesn't?” He feels comfortable and carefree around you. Unlike the other interviewers who only ask the same ten questions and make him feel bored out of his mind.

“I didn't.” You giggle, as if you're just joking with an old friend.

“I guess that's why you're smarter than me, the glue didn't reach your brain.” He taps his temple, all the while smiling at you.

“How would you know that I'm smart? You're the one with the masters.”

“I do?” He feigns naivete. “See, you know everythin'.”

Laughing with him feels like the most natural thing in the world. And he feels the same with his eyes crinkling in the corners and hand placed next to you on the bannister. But alas, the conversation had to end with his manager urging him to continue walking down the carpet.

“Wait, hold on, Ned.” Hobie keeps his eyes on you even though his manager is looking more and more irked. “Do you have a one-on-one with the cast later?”

“Uh no, that's not really my job. Not yet anyway.”

“What do you say that I slide you and your cameraman in, hm?” He hopes you'll say yes so he could talk to you more.

You swear your heart jumped out of your chest like in the cartoons. “Yes— absolutely that would be an amazing opportunity, thank you!”

“Nah, thank you, love, you're the only one worth talkin' to in this business.” He points at your microphone. “Good thing too, your mics off by the way.” With a smirk, he leaves, and the camera shutters follow him.

You stare in horror at the mic in your hands. “Fuck.” You whisper, and James tries not to groan loudly.

“At least we got the gig right?”

[jpegarchives]

hey 😉 saw ur post about ur rq being open and let me just say……… MOTORCYCLE SUNARIN!! pretty please with a big fat cherry on top 🤭

𝐊𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓 — 𝐑. 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐀

rintarō suna x gn!reader

learning to ride a bike is almost as easy as learning your abc’s, especially when rintarō suna’s your teacher

word count ; 890

cw ; swearing, use of babe/baby/love/other petnames

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

AND TRUE TO HIS WORD, the next time Rintarō Suna came to pick you up, he intended to teach you how to ride a bike.

Fortunately enough, you were lucky to live somewhere without much of a traffic flow. It was pretty rare to see cars that didn’t belong to your neighbors drive up and down the streets of the small corner of the suburbs you had tucked yourself away in. Teaching you a few meters away from the safety of your home shouldn’t be much of an issue.

A small, smug smile hung on his lips as he watched you walk down the driveway to where he had parked his motorcycle. Even though he had said he’d teach you when he got his bike back from the shop, what sat in front of you wasn’t the bike you’d usually find yourself on the back seat of. As if reading your mind, he rubbed the back of his leather-clad neck.

“Yeah it’s not my usual ride, but I figured you’d learn better with this than my sick ol’ baby.” The lazy grin he threw your way was enough to elicit an eye roll.

“What’s the difference?”

“This one here’s a 2018 Kawasaki Ninja 400, it’s a damn near perfect bike for a beginner. It’ll be perfect for you.” He states handing you the other helmet.

You hum in acknowledgment as you slip the helmet on over your head, adjusting the straps so it fits snugly.

“It’s got a 399cc parallel-twin engine. So it’s practically designed to provide smooth, predictable power delivery, which should help you control the bike a lot easier. The engine also has a pretty manageable torq—”

You cut him off, “babe, you gotta dumb it down for us normal folk.”

You could practically see the blush under his helmet as he pouted down at you.

“It just means that it’ll be easier for you to control.”

“See, now was that so hard?” He grumbles at your teasing.

“Yeah, okay. Here’s some things you gotta know about this bike here.” He starts to point out all the little doodads on the motorcycle, giving a basic ‘motorcycles for dummies’-esque explanation for every thing.

“This here’s the clutch.” He points at the lever on the left handlebar. “You’ll use this to start from a stop, change gears, and slow down. All it does basically is disengage and engage power from the engine.”

“The brakes.” He presses the lever on the right handlebar and points out the pedal with the back of his right foot. “The one the handle is the front brake, controls the front wheel, and is basically 75% of the braking power. The rear one is for the back wheel and it really just helps stabilize your deceleration and stop.”

“The ignition. You obviously know what that is. But this here’s,” he points to a bright red switch on the right handlebar, “the kill switch, when it’s on run, the engine’s running, and when it’s on off, it cuts the power to the engine, so you don’t have to use the key.”

He continues, explaining where everything was, the six different gears on the 2018 Kawasaki Ninja 400, how the throttle works, and to make sure you press, twist, whatever everything gently so you don’t stall the engine.

“Wow, you’re such a nerd.” You state after he’s done with the entire spiel. He rolls his eyes, turning the kill switch off and turning the key to OFF, fully shutting off the bike. With that, he kicks the kickstand to allow the bike to stand at a tilt rather than fall on its side as he gets off.

He hands you the keys and motions for you to get on the bike. Your face pales, realizing that he wasn’t joking about letting you ride the two-wheeled death machine in front of you.

“Oh, you were being serious.”

“When am I not? Don’t answer that.”

You shrug, walking over to the stand-side of the bike, grabbing onto the handlebar, your right hand gently pressing down the brake, you swing a leg over and prop the bike up completely. You can feel the bike dip a little as he swings his leg over and sits behind you.

The proximity nearly makes you jump out of your skin. Sure you’ve been close to him before, you’ve ridden his bike with him for fuck’s sake. The only difference? This time you were the one driving and he was the one with his hands on your waist. He smelled faintly of cedar wood and pine and just a little bit of aftershave.

You do as he had said a few minutes ago, and as the engine roared to life, it did nothing to ease your nervous jitters.

“You’ve got this, love. Plus, I’m right here, don’t worry.” His cool, calm words set your heart aflutter. Yeah, he’s right behind you, he’d never let anything happen to you. You trusted him with your life.

With that, you downshift to 1st gear from neutral and slightly jerk forward with a yelp. You can feel his chuckles against your back as he leans forward, covering your hands with his own.

“C’mon baby, you’ve got it, don’t be afraid.”

And with that, you took off.

a/n ; i hope you enjoy ‘cus i know i did (NOT PROOFREAD)

[ominisgoldie]

Loving them is like...

Loving Cass is fun. Loving Cass is two am runs for fast food. Loving Cass is jumping into a lake. Loving Cass is wrestling with a friend. Loving Cass is kisses sticky with sugar. Loving Cass is summer. Loving Cass is blood dripping down your sink. Loving Cass is holding him back from fights. Loving Cass is coming second to the training ring. Loving Cass is lukewarm water

Loving Az is cold. Loving az is snowball fights. Loving az is motorcycle rides at night. Loving az is blue light through your curtains in the middle of the Night. Loving az is sex without morals. Loving az is bloody knuckles with hidden secrets. Loving az is the blood on his blade. Loving az is a glass of whiskey on a tired night.

Loving Rhys is exhilarating. Loving Rhys is twists and turns. Loving Rhys is a bouquet of roses. Loving Rhys is finding the darkness blinking back. Loving Rhys is hating yourself, just a little. Loving Rhys is obsidian in your palm, beautiful but sharp enough to cut to the bone. Loving Rhys is the snow under your heels in the city. Loving Rhys is crying, the moon your only witness.

Loving Mor is beautiful. Loving mor is secrets whispered under summer stars. Loving mor is red lipstick on your collar. Loving Mor is the sound of moans mixed with soft music. Loving Mor is finding out that twisted words are not lies. Loving mor is crying in the bathroom, clutching the last bottle of perfume. Loving mor is the first kiss in a romance novel.

Loving Amren is grey. Loving Amren is stormclouds on the horizon. So beautiful, but so ominous. Loving Amren is careful smiles over red wine. Loving Amren is kisses coated in blood. Loving Amren is pearls against a pale throat. Loving Amren is the thrill after a gun goes off. Loving Amren is never quite enough.

Loving Feyre is relaxing. Loving Feyre is not wanting to get out of Bed on a Sunday morning. Loving Feyre is painting together on your porch. Loving Feyre is never having control. Loving Feyre is holding hands with a cloud.

Loving Nesta is intense. Loving Nesta is Sharp black. Loving Nesta is the feeling of riding in a car going so fast you aren't sure it's moving. Loving Nesta is long hair and sharp tongues. Loving Nesta is reaching for something that will self destruct again and again and again. Loving Nesta is crisp nights on the cusp of Autumn and Winter.

Loving Elain is spiraling. Loving Elain is looking over a cliff and falling into the river. Loving Elain is flower gardens that turn out to be Graves. Loving Elain is Burgundy. Loving Elain is calling to the forest, hearing a disembodied voice respond. Loving Elain is knowing you only have a few years to love. Loving Elain is like reaching into wool to find wolf teeth.

Loving Lucien is adventure. Loving Lucien is world maps and suitcases. Loving Lucien is knowing multiple languages. Loving Lucien is warm summer afternoons. Loving Lucien is lovemaking in a field. Loving Lucien is loud laughs over whiskey. Loving Lucien is watching from afar. Loving Lucien is basking in the sun's light, dreading when it shifts.

Loving Tarquin is gentle. Loving Tarquin is the gentle waves lapping on your ankles. Loving Tarquin is watching a bird fly away. Loving Tarquin is kisses under boardwalks. Loving Tarquin is loving the gentle sea, refusing to think of its violent nature. Loving Tarquin is not realizing you are drowning until your lungs begin to hurt

Loving Eris is rough. Loving Eris is getting too close to the fire, but relishing in your burn. Loving Eris is gold on red. Loving Eris is wicked smiles and dry mouths. Loving Eris is fucking in an old Cathedral. Loving Eris is bloodred lipstick smeared over collars. Loving Eris is never going home. Loving Eris is a hard wall to fall back on. Loving Eris is power being hand fed to you.

Loving Jurian is impulsive. Loving Jurian is jumping over walls and climbing trees. Loving Jurian is blades pressed against throats, laughter nicking the skin. Loving Jurian is armor so heavy you almost can't feel eyes burning into you. Loving Jurian is being so good at acting, because neither of you can tell when the other is genuine. Loving Jurian is something you tell yourself is a dream.

[vesearlee]

the collective works with the main pairing of Bucky Barnes will be in this masterlist.

⠂⠄⠄ 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄  𝑴𝑼𝑳𝑻𝑰𝑷𝑳𝑬

➺ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Multiple Pairings — 𝐅 + 𝐒 Today was the day — your birthday, but how would the many Bucky’s treat you? With a lil’ bit of nice? Or a lil’ bit of spice?

──── 𝑨 𝑻𝑶 𝑬

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂ 𝑩𝑰𝑲𝑬𝑹

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Biker President!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader — 𝐀 + 𝐖 + 𝐈 + 𝐃 + 𝐊 + 𝐅 + 𝐒

The 107th motorcycle club had always and would always be the protectors of their small, charming hometown — such a responsibility required strong shoulders to uphold the weight of it all. Your venture to their town would harbour twists and turns for you to navigate, all while you became the angel on the President’s shoulder; the tips of your angelic wings tinged red by your own demons.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂ 𝑩𝑶𝑫𝒀𝑮𝑼𝑨𝑹𝑫 

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐚 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐤𝐨𝐯

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Bodyguard!CW!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader x Bodyguard!Winter Soldier — 𝐀 + 𝐖 + 𝐈 + 𝐃 + 𝐏 + 𝐅 + 𝐒

A pack of wolves looked out for one another and strengthened each other, battling against the odds to keep one another safe — it was the natural order of things, the way things always worked. Being between the two most dangerous and possessive of them all meant you sat on your throne with pride; just how they wanted it.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂ 𝑫𝑰𝑳𝑭

𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ DILF!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader — 𝐀 + 𝐊 + 𝐅

The forbidden fruit always tasted the sweetest; it was a tale as old as the ages, and one that you heard over a thousand times. But you never expected to have that very same temptation handed to you on a silver platter in the form of your new boss — a devilishly handsome man who was the most devoted father to his little girl. 

It was hard to stop yourself from tumbling down that cliff and into something you would have no hope of controlling, and your only saving grace? The blooming hope you held close that he would be at the bottom to catch you.

──── 𝑭 𝑻𝑶 𝑱

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂ 𝑭𝑨𝑹𝑴𝑬𝑹 

𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 ‘𝐧 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Husband!Farmer!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Farmer!F!Reader — 𝐅 + 𝐒

Country lanes, critters and creatures, peaches 'n cream — your life was charmed and consumed in the bliss of living on the land and caring for the gifts bestowed upon both you and your husband, Bucky. It was a peaceful, fulfilling life, one that you could only imagine was the dream.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂ 𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑼𝑩𝑼𝑺 

𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Incubus!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader — 𝐅 + 𝐒

The depths of Hell had lost an asset all thanks to you ― no God in existence could save you from his sights or his clutches, and if being consumed by fire was one way to go, you supposed it would not be so bad if it came in the form of one smug, hellish bastard.

──── 𝑲 𝑻𝑶 𝑶

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂ 𝑳𝑼𝑴𝑩𝑬𝑹𝑱𝑨𝑪𝑲 

𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐲 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader — 𝐅 + 𝐒

Life in your small town couldn’t have gotten any better, it was a fact you held close. That was until you started to call a handsome, brooding lumberjack your best friend, and you developed butterflies at any mention of his name or a stray thought of him crossed your mind. 

Sure, it was going to be fine, you could do this. What could go wrong?

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂ 𝑴𝑨𝑭𝑰𝑨 

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞, 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Mafia Boss!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader — 𝐅 + 𝐒

You lay in the lap of luxury, reclining and basking in the wealth and the power it bestowed upon you to be his Prinţesă; the Queen to his King, a kitten in the jaws of a snarling wolf. 

Naturally, such a position had both bountiful rewards and harsh consequences, nothing came without a price, and Bucky would stop at nothing to protect both his Empire, and you.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂ 𝑴𝑨𝑭𝑰𝑨 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑰𝑺𝑻 

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Artist!Bucky Barnes x Mafia Boss!F!Reader — 𝐅 + 𝐒

A Queen of the Underworld — among many other things — allowed for many opportunities, and the countless offerings and proposals never left you wanting. At least, that was up until you set your sights upon the quiet but intriguing best friend of your closest business partner. 

The upcoming artist with a bandwidth of impressive talent captured your whole attention. The chase began, and no one stood a chance in the path of a She Wolf pursuing her prey.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂ 𝑴𝑬𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑰𝑪 

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Mechanic!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader — 𝐅 + 𝐒

Cars were all the same to you: classics, imports, you name it, they were all the same, until you were forced to visit your local mechanic after a nightmare of a drive. It was that day that you saw the man that would pique your interest, not only in every single make and model of classic car that had driven on tarmac, but his charming smile; the air of righteous arrogance that flowed from his tattoos, and that damned cheeky glint in his bright eyes.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂ 𝑴𝑶𝑵𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹

𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Monster!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader — 𝐃 + 𝐅

The creatures of the woods varied from benevolent to lethal, deadly. Each being, a soul of its own, had a part of the greater circle – a connection to one another like the roots of the trees to the sodden soil of the earth. The balance, once upset, would lead you to be found by the Keeper, a beast so formidable that no creature dared cross its path, until it set its sights on you.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂ 𝑵𝑼𝑹𝑺𝑬 

𝐀 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Nurse!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader — 𝐀 + 𝐈 + 𝐅 + 𝐒

Fate had an awfully strange way of weaving webs; connecting dots when the time was right. 

There you were, lying in a hospital bed again, and there was your favourite nurse; tall, broad, devilishly handsome, and not to mention soft, kind, and caring. Your stay, and consequently your life, just got infinitely more interesting. 

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂ 𝑶𝑴𝑬𝑮𝑨𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑬 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑴𝑨𝑭𝑰𝑨 

𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐭

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Alpha!Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Omega!F!Reader — 𝐅 + 𝐒

A powerful alpha locked his sights onto you, a wolf honed onto its prey — on the contrary, you were the fox that showed its belly to a predator. A mutual, foundational respect, the only thing keeping the wolf’s fangs from piercing the delicate flesh. 

You knew playing with his food was something he loved to do, and you would happily be the plaything for your mate.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂ 𝑶𝑼𝑻𝑳𝑨𝑾

𝐑𝐮𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧

⠄⠂⠁��⠂⠄⠄ Outlaw!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader — 𝐅

Legends and tales of those that roughed the open plains were whispered on the breeze through the wilderness; off of walls that held the bounds of the churches and saloons through the scattered settlements and towns. When they reached you, you paid them no mind — good men were countlessly slandered by the mouths of others, and until you could judge for yourself, you left well enough alone. 

Until one of the deadliest rogues ventured into your town and staked his claim on your unsuspecting heart. 

Not all Devils were beyond salvation. 

──── 𝑷 𝑻𝑶 𝑻

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂ 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑫𝑰𝑪 

𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬, 𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader — 𝐀 + 𝐅

There was a lot to be said about your best friend, Bucky. You admired his tenacity and grit, as well as his all-encompassing adoration and love for those close to him. It didn't help the fact that you longed to be the one he stared at with such tenderness; you just missed the moments that he did.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂ 𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑶𝑵𝑨𝑳 𝑻𝑹𝑨𝑰𝑵𝑬𝑹 

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Personal Trainer!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader — 𝐀 + 𝐅 + 𝐒

A choice decision landed you in the place you least wanted to be, and among the hustle and bustle of your life, you had somehow plucked up the courage to stay. It turned out to be the best decision you could have made, for walking through those double glass doors, created more opportunities than you could have expected. 

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂ 𝑷𝑰𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑬 

𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Pirate!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader — 𝐅 + 𝐒

The legend of The Soldat, a warship on the high seas that showed no quarter; ruthless in her anger and devastating in her destruction, chilled all that sailed the seas, and for good reason. The Captain was a bloodthirsty, savage scourge, cutting down all that stood between him and his prize. 

But deep beneath that scarred and brooding exterior, however, laid a heart so pure and intent on showing you just how precious you were to him. 

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂ 𝑷𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹 

𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Pornstar!Bucky Barnes x (Innocent!)F!Reader — 𝐀 + 𝐅 + 𝐒

Softness was a trait you unwittingly carried — the wings of a dove took you higher and higher, elevating you in the eyes of the devil. And that devil did not want to wait any longer. It was time to collect.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂ ��𝑪𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑶𝑹 

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Scare Actor!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader — 𝐅

The ancient game of cat and mouse, a fight for survival between a predator and their prey, wasn’t a new phenomenon — it had been practised for centuries and it was an art that very, very few perfected. For years you had chased the craving to find someone that had mastered the art of the hunt, and for Halloween, you had gone all out and visited a haven unlike any other. 

It was there that you found your match. 

Cloaked in nothing but black and shrouded in a sense of lethality, you would have to run from this shadow in an adrenaline fuel haze unlike any other. A chase for the ages, the very one you desired. 

And if he caught you, your world would end as you knew it.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂ 𝑺𝑻𝑹𝑬𝑬𝑻 𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑬𝑹 

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐥𝐲𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Street Racer!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader — 𝐅 + 𝐒

They had many titles: Bastards of Brooklyn, The Pack — though, when it came down to it, they were a pride of beasts behind the wheel, and when their prey was targeted, there was no hope in hell to outwit, or outrun. That pride of lions had a king who was cunning, ruthless, and he had you in his sights.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂ 𝑺𝑻𝑹𝑰𝑷𝑷𝑬𝑹 

𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Stripper!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader — 𝐅 + 𝐒

It was no wonder that both women and men flocked to the shows performed by the Howling Commandos, and it was no secret that they were all hoping for a glimpse, a peek at the elusive, enigmatic troop: Sarge. They all tried and prayed to see how the man moved on stage — his reputation well proceeded and earned.

You, however, never expected to end up right in the lap of temptation trussed up in irresistible charm and chivalry, all the while that smile...

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂ 𝑻𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑶𝑶 

𝐈𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐧

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader — 𝐀 + 𝐅 + 𝐒

You were the 107th Ink's light, a never-ending ray of positivity and happiness that they couldn't be more grateful for — especially for how much you lit up Bucky Barnes, the brooding grump of a man that only smiled in your presence, Jacks and donuts aside. 

──── 𝑼 𝑻𝑶 𝒁

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂ 𝑽𝑰𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐤𝐨𝐠𝐫

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Viking!Bucky Barnes x Fae!F!Reader — 𝐀 + 𝐖 + 𝐃 + 𝐅 + 𝐒

The Woodland was your home, it was a place of safety and seclusion — you had liked it that way, you were free to care for the forest and the many creatures who also called it home. 

That all changed the day a Viking rode the path and ventured close, closer than any before him; bridging the gap built by your kind and his, in the most unexpected of ways. 

➺ 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐝 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Rockstar!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader — 𝐀 + 𝐅 + 𝐒 — CO-WRITTEN WITH @buckyismybicycle All it took was one night, one song — hell, one note — and you were gone for him, hook, line, and sinker. Turbulent times lay ahead, but in the afterglow of ecstasy, forced to feel emotions in such intensity for someone you’d never expect, you couldn’t help but follow him anyway — he was irresistible, after all.

➺ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Scare Actor!Bucky Barnes — 𝐅

The ancient game of cat and mouse, a fight for survival between a predator and their prey, wasn’t a new phenomenon — it had been practised for centuries and it was an art that very, very few perfected. For years you had chased the craving to find someone that had mastered the art of the hunt, and for Halloween, you had gone all out and visited a haven unlike any other. 

It was there that you found your match. 

Cloaked in nothing but black and shrouded in a sense of lethality, you would have to run from this shadow in an adrenaline fuel haze unlike any other. A chase for the ages, the very one you desired. 

And if he caught you, your world would end as you knew it.

➺ 𝐖𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Modern!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader — 𝐀 + 𝐅 Currents had pulled you under for so many years, the crash of them against your mind leaving you constantly breathless and Bucky would always pull you back up from the cruel thrashing. But now, there was a chance they’d stop.

➺ 𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Modern!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader — 𝐀 + 𝐅 The yearly tradition of a blanket fort on the 4th of July gets an upgrade.

➺ 𝐍𝐨 𝐖𝐚𝐲 𝐎𝐮𝐭 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Bucky Barnes x Agent!F!Reader — 𝐀 + 𝐖 Fate was cruel. Life, even more so. The pain was excruciating, well past and beyond endurance. It was just a shame there was little comfort you could give from the other side of Death’s veil.

➺ 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐊𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Modern!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader — 𝐀 + 𝐅 There were very few things that brought you as much joy as seeing Bucky smile, but this — this moment would forever be etched as one of your fondest memories, let alone his.

➺ 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐰𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Modern!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader — 𝐅 “Don’t make a big deal,” Bucky said — “I have all I need right here,” he insisted. 

A shame, really, that he had thought that you had listened, and you wouldn’t make a big deal of it; he was so wrong, and he would be better off for being so, for when a paw touched your heart, it would never leave.

➺ 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Grim Reaper!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader — 𝐀 + 𝐅 Grief was no stranger to you — it ebbed and flowed with time; its currents ill-suited to travel for those who were heavily ladened with loss. That was where you came in, offering the comfort of your empathy and gift to those who remained stuck, and to those that passed on. It was how you met him, and it was how you became the light in his otherwise shadowed life.

➺ 𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐲 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ TFAWS!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader — 𝐒 When Bucky came home from a bad day, it was your pleasure to change that, and you took pride in making him shatter to pieces if you reaped the rewards.

➺ 𝐀 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Bucky Barnes x Makeup Artist!F!Reader — 𝐀 + 𝐅 It was a routine job — if you discounted the suspicious lack of information and the endless NDAs you had to sign, and you were looking forward to having a high end client. Though, what walked through the door would test every last skill you had.

➺ 𝐋𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐞 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Dragon Rider!Bucky Barnes x Dragon Rider!F!Reader — 𝐀 + 𝐖 It was inherently a dangerous way to live the life of a Nomad Dragon Rider — an outcast. And those very dangers would be what would tear you apart, and what would separate you from the one you trusted, the one you loved.

➺ 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐞 ‘𝐧 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐞 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Husband!Baker!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Baker!F!Reader — 𝐅 Bucky had prepared a surprise for you, much to your amusement, and it wasn’t even the end of the night — a battle of wits was to be fought.

➺ 𝐀𝐧 𝐎𝐥’ 𝐅𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐎𝐟 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐲 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Bucky Barnes x F!Reader — 𝐅 Bucky had been away for a long, long time, and your heart ached with missing him. Although, the time apart had allowed you to plan a surprise that would rock his world once he walked back through the door of your home, and into another era.

➺ 𝐀 𝐑𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Witcher!Bucky Barnes x Sorceress!F!Reader — 𝐀 + 𝐖 + 𝐃 + 𝐅 It had been an ordinary day — nothing amiss, nor a cause for concern, not even the sudden appearance of soldiers in the local tavern. You should have known better, however, for fate had never left you in peace.

➺ 𝐀 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐰𝐨, 𝐨𝐟 𝐄𝐧𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Modern!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader — 𝐀 + 𝐅 They said fate worked in mysterious ways; the strings of destiny plucked and pulled and snapped at the leisure of those they controlled, but not you. The delicacy in which you handled the woven web was forever unseen and unprecedented, and your patience was to be rewarded in a way you least expected.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Drifter!Bucky Barnes x Drifter!F!Reader ➺ 𝐈'𝐦 𝐆𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧’ 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮 — 𝐅 Dancing had many forms — you were proud to say you may have been the best of the best in an unconventional discipline. Finally, fate gave you a chance to prove it, once and for all.  ➺ 𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐞 — 𝐅 + 𝐒 A deal had been struck, and since you had claimed victory that day, you were more than eager to collect the reward of such a win. — 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 — 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐕𝟐

𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Modern!Bucky Barnes x Writer!F!Reader ➺ 𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐅𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 — 𝐅 An ordinary, relaxing day of arriving at Bucky’s coffee shop and spending it working on a project was what you planned to do, however, a certain brunette had other ideas. ➺ 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 — 𝐅 Bucky had always been willing to help you with your dreams, and it just so happened that you need to experience something first hand in order to write it effectively — it was just a shock at how far Bucky was willing to take it.

➺ 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Barista!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader — 𝐅 Bucky’s cafe was a home away from home, a place where you could be happy, spend time with your two closest friends, and your favourite fluffball. You just hoped that your admission wouldn’t change a thing — at least, you had to hope it would, in the best way.

➺ 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Baker!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader — 𝐅 There were very few plans you had come up in your life with that rivalled the sheer brilliance of what you decided to do — ‘twas the belated day for it, anyway.

➺ 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 — 𝐅

➺ 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐎𝐟𝐟 — 𝐒 You came home to a sight; one that you revelled in the consequences of.

⇀  𝐃𝐁𝐅 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲

⇀ 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲

[thestarkinternship]

Whenever, Wherever

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader: One Shot (Angst)

Summary: As Bucky's nightmares about his time as The Winter Soldier continue to plague him, there is only one person who can help him through it.

Word Count: 2.5k (No mention of Y/N)

Warnings: mention of graphic violence (we know what happened to Maria and Howard), angsty! Bucky

A/N: This is loosely inspired by the chorus of the song 'Whenever, Wherever'. I don't know, I just thought it made a good writing prompt.

Masterlist

-

“Ready to comply."

James' metal hand flexed around the accelerator of the motorcycle, giving it a tight squeeze. Its shiny edges glinted under the light of the full moon. His body moulded into the supple, leather seat like it was made for him. Still his rigid body refused to relax. The powerful engine revved as the bike shuddered to life beneath him, gearing up to go. Gas gurgled out from the exhaust, cutting through the thick silence of the quiet evening.  One swift kick up on the safety bar and the bike was now fully under his strong control.  Releasing the clutch, he sped off into the distant night.

Weaving through the inner-city traffic was effortless for him, the numbered streets mapped out in his mind. Standstill cars hummed patiently for the lazy traffic lights to turn green, but James didn't have time for that. Cutting through the backstreets of Washington, he quickened his pace. A light breeze swept his mass of dark hair back, exposing the heavy mask tightly secured across the lower half of his face. Each passing block was filled with clueless individuals too wrapped up in their own business to notice the mysterious stranger.  The city was simply a colourful blur to James as he made his way towards the outskirts of town. Skyscrapers and apartment buildings faded into quiet suburban homes. Soon enough, the buzz of the city was long forgotten, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

James' mission was clear: retrieve the new variant of the serum. Leave no witnesses. The orders burned deep into the depths of The Winter Soldier's mind. He could think of little else as he continued on track towards his target.

The glow from the city lights faded until only the bike's headlights remained. Heavy trees hung overhead, closing in on James as they cast out the moonlight. His wheels crunched over the gravel of the barren, country path. Dirt spat out behind the tyres, leaving murky clouds that hovered in the air behind him. It was a foggy view for anyone who might be watching him.

He wasn’t far off now – his target had only a mere half an hour head start. His grip on the accelerator hardened, propelling him further into the night. The motorcycle's rumble grew until it was all James could hear.

And there it was. Just a few hundred yards ahead of him was the unmistakable red burn of a car's rear lights. It couldn't have been going more than 20mph.

Now was his time.

James made a sharp right turn, barrelling himself down into the woodland surroundings. He drove down the steep bank until he was concealed from the view of the main path. The tyres bounced across the rough earth, shaking him in his seat. His thighs squeezed against the warm bike, maintaining his grip. Gently steering around the thick tree trunks ahead of him, he slowly edged the bike forwards across the rugged ground against its will. He was parallel with the target now, but it wasn't enough. James' right knuckles bared white as his desperation to overtake them grew. Glancing down at the speedometer in front of him, his jaw hardened. He could do better than that.

Just a little more.

He didn't let up until he could no longer hear the target car's engine behind him and he was alone again. Veering upwards, the bike strained under James' demanding grasp. As he reached the edge of the treeline, James finally allowed the bike some refuge as he came to a halt. He slid the heavy bike to the pine needle floor with a soft thud. James paced forwards until he got to the road clearing. Concealing himself in the shrubs outlining the road, he froze in a poised crouch.

The Winter Soldier took a deep breath and cleared his mind. He listened out for the low hums of the fast-approaching car. At first, there was nothing but the leaves as they scratched against each other in the breeze. Exhaling, James closed his eyes and allowed his heightened senses to search his surroundings.

A delicate bird song. An owl crooned overhead. The scuttle of a wood mouse, burrowing deep into the ground. And then pounding gravel.

He could just about make out the constant switch between the gas pedal and squeaking brakes as the car grew nearer.  Allowing his eyes to open, he saw long shadows form behind the trees. They stretched tall in all directions, ghostly branches curling their wicked fingers that beckoned the car forwards in his direction. The dim headlights finally broke out into the clearing ahead. James counted the passing seconds as he waited for the target to finally be in his reach.

One. Two. Three.

Springing forwards, James swiped his left arm out at the closest front tyre. A putrid, burning scent filled the air as the titanium arm sliced through the soft rubber. Vibrations rooted through the metal and spread up all the way to his shoulder. Rolling it back, he straightened himself back out. Screeching pierced his ears whilst the car rolled out of control. Tyre marks dug deep into the soft dirt as it lost its grip on the road. His eyes narrowed as the bonnet wrapped its way around a nearby tree. It finally came to a halt. A warbling alarm faded into silence, too destroyed to cry out for help. The dented metal sprang free as smoke erupted into dark clouds above him. It billowed out in the wind, travelling back towards the city James had left behind long ago.

As he approached the wreckage, he finally got a clear view of the two witnesses. A man and a woman. She was slumped back in the passenger seat, sticky blood trickling down her pale face. The seatbelt had imprinted on her fair skin, leaving a deep, maroon mark. Her shoulders were slung back into the leather, struggling to lift with each faltering breath.

The man was a different story. He convulsed as he struggled in the compressed front end of the vehicle. His hands flapped at the seatbelt as it welded itself into the trapped buckle. Rocking back and forth, his feeble attempts at escape were short lived.

Tucked away on the backseat, a shiny briefcase laid unharmed. The Winter Soldier's glare darted back and forth between that and his own reflection the window. His eyes were dark pools, his pupils dilated with greed as he locked onto the prized serum. Hard grooves across his forehead dipped down into furrowed brows. Sweat silently dripped down past his mask and onto the floor.

He watched as his metal arm flexed in the window, before colliding with the reinforced glass.  Tiny shards shattered out in every possible direction. They littered the floor and turned to dust under James' heavy steps. Cracks splintered through the pieces still clinging onto the window frame. With the barrier gone, he was brought face to face with his witnesses.

Howard Stark's pleading eyes flickered between James and his dying wife. His face softened at the sight of this shadowed stranger who just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Someone had come to save them.

"Help... my wife." His deep voice choked.

The Winter Soldier stayed silent, the only noise from the witnesses’ exasperated breaths. Howard dipped his head level to the window to get a better look at his saviour.

The hope in his voice was soon replaced by dread as he finally recognised the man standing before him. "Sergeant Barnes?"

There was no more time for games. James curled his metal fingers into a tight fist. Built up rage flowing through the titanium as he brought his heavy arm down on Howard's face.

Bucky jolted up in the darkness. It engulfed him like an endless void. Robbed of his sight, Bucky had never felt as lost as he did in that second. His heart pounded with each rapid breath, fighting to get out of his bare chest. The heavy exhales filled the quiet room. Around his neck, the wartime dog tags tinkered against each other, leaving a ringing in his ears. The chain rubbed against the back of his neck. The metal links melted into his skin with his body heat, and small beads of sweat slid down the cool metal before dropping onto the surface around him. He grasped out in the darkness, feeling nothing but fistfuls of clammy bedsheets. The cotton material swaddling his body reminded him of where he truly was. He was at home. He was safe. The nightmare was over, but disturbing images still lingered in the stiff, summer air of the hot bedroom. 

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Bucky began to make out shadowed shapes in the room surrounding him. He spared a glance at your sleeping body next to him. Wrapped up in the soft sheets, you looked so peaceful letting out faint snores as you slept blissfully unaware of Bucky's late-night turmoil. Leaning down, he planted a soft kiss on your head. Murmuring softly, you rolled over but thankfully didn't stir.

Gripping the mattress with shaky hands, he planted unstable legs on the wooden floor. Bucky inched himself off of the bed as not to disturb you. Pacing across the room to the window, he carefully wedged it open. Bucky clutched onto the window ledge, his fingertips tracing over the soft grooves in the woodwork. He focused on the patterns whilst his harsh breaths struggled to return to their normal rhythm.  A midnight breeze blew into the room, tickling along his hardened jawline until his red face cooled. The streetlamps flooded the bedroom. Distant sirens and soft chatter drifted in from the busy Brooklyn streets down below, bringing Bucky completely back to reality as relief washed over him.  

"Bucky? Are you awake?" Your tiny voice whispered out of nowhere.

He rocked on his heels to face you. Your delicate features were lit up by a sliver of moonlight that streamed in from the open blinds. Even in the low lighting, Bucky could see how your sleepy expression distorted into one of concern from the moment he turned around.

"I'm fine. I was just a little warm. I wanted some fresh air." He sighed.

Bucky steadied his agitated body. The floorboards creaked under the heavy weight of his body and mind as he made his way back towards your bed. He clambered under the sheets, sliding his body next to yours

"Are you okay? You feel flushed," worry settled in your voice as you pressed a small hand against his chest, "your heart's beating like crazy."

Bucky let out a sigh.

"You had another nightmare." You stated, rather than questioning.

"He was back. The Winter Soldier. I was him again." He whispered.

You turned until you were face to face. Reaching out in the darkness, you pulled him in close until his face was buried in the crook of your shoulder. Bucky's arms fell limp in your lap as he just allowed you to hold him.

Your round eyes drooped with sympathy. "You know you don't have to keep anything from me. I'm always going to be here for you, Buck."

Salty tears collected in his tired eyes before silently glided down his face. His body went rigid in an attempt to mask his feelings. Bucky pressed his face harder into your mass of tangles, breathing in the light scent of shampoo. His shoulders jerked with every fallen tear. He always hated it when you saw him like this.

Sitting up in the bed, you cradled Bucky's contorted face in your palms. His bottom lip quivered as he was unable to supress his upset any longer. The tears broke out into continuous stream down his face. You wiped a thumb across the bags under his eyes that had accumulated from too many similar sleepless nights, sweeping away his tears.

"Oh, Bucky," you crooned, wrapping your arms around his shaking body, "talk to me about it."

"It was the night I killed Tony's parents." His voice cracked, muffling against your shoulder.

"What happened?"

"I was trying to get the Super Soldier serum. I was back on my old motorcycle, tracking them down. God, it felt so real. I could feel Howard's skull beneath my hand. It broke under my fist. His head cracked open and there was so much blood. I couldn't get it off of me. It was trapped in the hollows of vibranium in my arm. I swear, I could feel it seeping into my body. I still can." Bucky cried.

Tongue clicking, your kind heart broke for him. Rubbing a hand up and down his back, you allowed him to weep until there were no more tears left for him to cry. Bucky's sobs eventually faded into muffled sniffles.

"That wasn't you," you reassured, "you're not that person anymore."

"I can't escape him. The Winter Soldier - he's always going to be there." Bucky exasperated.

"He took up a big part of your life," you murmured softly, "he won't disappear from you straight away, you know that right? I can't pretend to understand what you went through in those times, but I'm always going to do my best. I'm always here to listen and support you as much as I possibly can."

Bucky's face fell and he confided in his love. "I'm sorry if it seems like I'm pushing you away. You shouldn't have to do this for me, and it makes me feel guilty."

Gently, you tilted his chin up to look into his scared eyes. "Do you remember those vows we made two years ago?"

"For better or for worse." He recalled. Like he could ever forget the happiest day of his life.

"Exactly. For better or for worse. That includes your past as The Winter Soldier. No matter how long ago it happened, these feelings are bound to surface, and we've just got to work through them when they do. It'll take time, but what's time to a 107-year-old super soldier?"

Bucky's dry lips curled up into a small smile for the first time since he'd awoken. You always knew exactly what to say to cheer him up, even in the worst of times.

“I love you." He breathed.

"I love you too," you leant back into the mattress on your side, opening your arms to him, "now, come here."

Bucky obliged, pulling the warm duvet around you both. You hooked an arm under his neck, draping the other over his side in a tight embrace. Your fingertips traced the raised lettering of his silver dog tags whilst you spooned his worn-out body. Running your other hand through the soft peaks of his hair, you uncombed the knots that had gathered with his constant tossing and turning. Bucky lulled in the comfort of your soothing movements, finding peace with the gentle motion. His breathing slowed as he finally succumbed to sleep. This time was much more pleasant than the last. You lazily peppered small kisses along the back of his shoulder and neck, until your lips hovered around his ear.

"Everything's going to be okay. You're going to be okay." You whispered.

"Whenever?" He mumbled.

"Wherever. We're meant to be together." You affirmed. "I'll be there."

"You'll be near?" Bucky begged.

"That's our deal, my dear."

[goodoldbandit]

The Role of the Transmission: Manual vs. Automatic.

Good Old Bandit. Good Old Bandit. gob.stayingalive.in Manual vs. automatic transmissions—discover how each works, their pros, and cons, and which is best for your riding style. Master your ride today! Modern motorcycles, whether designed for spirited track days, long-distance touring, or daily commuting, rely on a core mechanical system to deliver power smoothly to the wheels: the…

[hunyoucantresistme]

Falling for You

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pairing: biker bf! chris x reader

summary: after weeks of begging, your boyfriend, chris, had finally agreed to teach you how to ride his bike. But it didn’t go as planned and you ended up injuring yourself which led to him tending to your scraped knee

warnings: use of pet names (baby and babe too, i think), mention of injuring yourself, kissing?

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You’d always watched him with a certain sense of awe as he revved up his motorcycle, the deep growl of the engine vibrating through the ground. There was something about the way he commanded the road, the way he became one with the bike, that fascinated you. He was always so confident, so in control.

But today? Today was different.

You stood on the edge of the driveway, hands nervously adjusting the hem of your jacket, watching Chris wipe down his bike with a rag. The bike glistened under the afternoon sun, and for the first time, it didn’t feel like just a piece of metal and leather. It felt like something you wanted to conquer.

Chris turned to you with a teasing grin, “You ready, babe?” his voice was low, teasing, but there was a warmth to it, a gentleness that made you feel like you could do anything as long as he was by your side.

You swallowed hard. “I think so.”

He looked at you with an amused expression “hey, I’m putting a lot of trust in you here. Handing my baby over to you” he says, referring to his bike as ‘his baby’

You let out a chuckle “I thought I was your baby” you say with a grin, knowing the words will make him cringe

Yup,

he scrunches his nose with a laugh “ew, don’t ever say shit like that again”. He says, hugging his bike and kissing the handles while moving his ass around goofily. “Nice show, biker boy” you say, laughing at his antics.

“Alright, come on.” He motioned toward the bike with a grin. “Let’s get you on and started.”

You took a deep breath and put on the helmet before swinging your leg over the seat, sitting down with a slight wobble. The bike felt huge beneath you—heavy, powerful, and yet, somehow delicate at the same time. You straightened up, gripping the handlebars, trying to ignore the nervousness bubbling up inside you. You glanced back at him, hoping you didn’t look as clueless as you felt.

You’d always been fascinated by his bike, the way he controlled it with ease, the way it seemed like an extension of himself. You loved watching him ride, the freedom in the way he moved—like nothing could stop him. But now, it was your turn. Your chance to get on that bike and feel the same rush.

The engine roared to life beneath you and you had to strain your ears to listen to Chris, “Good. Now, take the clutch in with your left hand and slowly give it a little gas,” he instructed, his voice calm but filled with that steady confidence of someone who’s done this a thousand times.

Your fingers curled around the clutch as you gave the throttle a tentative twist. The bike jolted forward a little, and your breath caught in your throat. You kept the bike steady, feeling a small sense of accomplishment.

"That’s it. Now, ease off the clutch slowly and let it move forward."

You did as he said, the bike picking up speed with a slight lurch. Chris kept walking beside you, his hand hovering near your back in case you needed help balancing.

And then it happened, for a split second, you lost your balance, the bike tipping slightly to the side. Before you could react, it was too late. The ground rushed up to meet you, and you felt the scrape of gravel against your skin as you tumbled off the bike and hit the pavement. Luckily, chris had caught you in time so only your knees touched the pavement

You groaned, a bruise already forming on your knee making itself known. Your heart pounded in your ears as you stood up straight.

Chris had crouched down in front of you in an instant, examining your dirty jeans “Shit, you alright?”, he asks, gently brushing the dirt off your jeans. “Come on, lets get you cleaned up” he says with a smile. He didnt give you time to take even half of a step before he stood up and scooped you up in his arms. A pink tint came over your cheeks and you tried to grasp at the last straw of toughness you had left “I can walk, you know” you say with a glare though you would probably shout at him if he actually listened and put you down

He lets out a scoff, a fond smile on his lips “you’re dumb if you think I’ll let you walk after you just fell on your ass”. your glare deepened “i didnt fall on my ass”

chris grinned “then how’d you fall?”

you’d dug your own grave. Chris was grinning wider than ever and definitely expecting an answer he could tease you about “on my knees”, you muttered and you swore you heard him say “wouldnt be the first time”

Once inside, Chris picked up the first aid kit, his movements precise and sure, as if tending to injuries was something he did every day. He gently slid your jeans down, his whole focus on your scraped knees tho he did press a kiss on the inside of each of your thighs before he grabbed a clean cloth and cleaned the dirt off your knees, his touch surprisingly tender as he stayed crouched in front of you

You can tell he felt a bit guilty for letting you fall by the way his eyebrows were furrowed. He carefully placed bandages on your knees before standing up and sitting on the couch beside you, pulled you onto his lap. “Next time, I’ll make sure you don’t fall, alright?” He said, his cheek resting on your shoulder as he looked up at you with an apologetic expression.

You smiled and rubbed his back, trying to soothe his guilt “I don’t mind if you’re there to catch me,” you whispered.

He smiled, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips before pulling away and whispering back, "I always will be."

A/N i hope my english teacher’s proud 🙏 i never really got over the biker chris photos and i dont think i ever will (@middlepartmatt i already told you to keep your expectations low. Dont be too disappointed 😔🤍)

[musedeluce]

Failure to Communicate

Sylus X Reader - (In which Sylus learns the hard way that he must actually tell his partner his plans)

Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Fluff, slight miscommunication, hospitalization.

A/n: This is set rather early in their relationship. After it becomes cordial but before it becomes openly romantic.

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You were quite good at calculating the outcomes of all kinds of situations. Honestly, it was an extremely useful skill to have, but it wasn’t needed in this particular situation. Anyone paying attention could see that you and Sylus were about 10.9.8.7.6.5. seconds from careening straight off a cliff, into some dark chasm.Right before your determined “point of no return” you grabbed him and wrenched you both off the motorcycle. There was an extremely disturbing crunch as you hit the ground, and seconds later you were cradled in reddish black shadows while sliding forward. The pain in your arm was searing, and honestly this might be the worst break you’ve ever been through in your life. But, you as a hunter have broken bones before, and you were able to keep your wits about you as you slowly come to a stop, not three feet from the chasm’s edge.

Sylus is running up to you, looking uncharacteristically shaken. It’s a relief to see that he’s okay. Immediately, he inspects your arm and makes sure that’s the only thing that’s broken. Then, the two of you are at an impasse, looking at each other silently. The bike, annoyingly, is unharmed.

“Sweetie, if you wanted off the bike all you had to do was ask.” His deep voice is smooth, but the slightly longer pause after he called you that pet name betrayed how shaken he was.

“Sure, because the situation was totally under your control.” You clutch your arm, and his eyes flicker to it as he winces ever so slightly. “It genuinely looked and felt like we were about to careen of a cliff! What the actual fuck? Even if you’re pissed, I. Do. Not. Care. That was the only action I could take to make sure you didn’t plunge five stories downward.”

“Sweetheart...” Sylus switched to using the full version of the pet-name he usually called you. Well, that and Kitten. “The fact you got hurt is what pains me the most. While I am mad at that stunt, I failed to communicate what was going on, and you acted on the information you did have.” His smile now is somewhat insolent. “I’m flattered you were so worried about me, to the point you ignored that you’d be going down with me.”

“What even was going on?”

“I was going to use my evol to maneuver over the edge of the chasm. It has the benefits of being a shortcut, and a surprise.”

“I know you’re used to working alone, and I know you’re used to not explaining your actions but I swear to whatever deities may exist, you have got to start telling me shit like this. Now the mission is a failure.” You’re clutching your arm to your chest, tightly, because every time your arm moves, intense, stabbing pain burrows through the length of it.

“Come on.” Sylus gently lifts you up, providing support as you stand. “Let’s get you fixed up.” The N109 Zone isn't quite known for being an extremely safe and lovely place to live, let alone state of the art medical facilities, but he'd be damned if you weren't going to get the best possible medical treatment he could provide. Hence, how you found yourself expertly bandaged up with your arm in a cast and on a morphine drip in "the finest back alley clinic you'll ever visit.”

“It’s a good thing I used some vacation time for this” you joked, trying to ease the tension in the minuscule room. The twins and Sylus are crammed in as well, making you feel like a sardine. Although you address them all, your gaze catches on Sylus's intense red eyes as he takes your hand, holding it tightly but gingerly. You can see a myriad of emotions swirling in them, worry, relief and anger all conveyed in his intense stare.

"How do you feel?" Sylus has lost is teasing lilt, genuinely asking after your well being.

"Hmmm. Not that bad, I'm in a fair amount of pain but it's more of a dull sort, probably thanks to the drugs. I'm also quite thirsty and hungry, actually." A glance to the twins from Sylus, and they immediately took action. "On it, Boss! We'll bring water and foods gentle on the stomach" Kieran saluted and they both left the room. Sylus still hasn't let go of your hand, and in fact holds it with both of his.

"Sweetie. You surely must know how I adore you. It would be devastating for me to lose you, and because you protected me? All that matters is that You're alive. That you're okay. Why would you do that? "

"Aren't we supposed to protect each other? I was just trying to do that, and there wasn't any time to consider alternate courses of action. Even with your evol, I doubt you'd enjoy being dashed to the ground at terminal velocity. ”

Sylus chuckles, brightening just a bit for a moment. "You know, I'm quite angry at myself for not preventing this. And slightly frustrated with you for your pragmatic thinking." His eyes rove over your bandages. "I will say thank you, as owed though. Thank you for protecting me." A playful smile graces his lips after he finishes speaking and he brings your hand up to his face, pressing it to his cheek and leaning in. "While I do so appreciate your protection, please don't do that ever again. All your efforts to save and protect me would be undone by the simple fact of your death."

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[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

reader pronouns: she/her

You and Daryl were shoulder to shoulder, both with your weapons aimed at the strange man who had seemingly been following you through the woods. He was raggedy and dangerous-looking and the two of you had doubled back to end up in control of the situation.

For some reason, he seemed to find you aiming your pistol squarely at his chest rather amusing and smiled at you with a grin that was unsettling. "You sure you can handle that gun, honey? Looks a little big for you," he said derisively. "Did yer boyfriend here give it to you to hold onto? Just to put on a little show for me?"

"I wouldn't talk shit to her if I were you," Daryl growled. "Now why don't you hurry up and spit out why ya've been followin' us before I decide talkin' is a waste of time?"

The man didn't remove his attention from you and ignored Daryl completely.

"You got a name?" His eyes looked you up and down and the action was somehow vulgar. You shifted uncomfortably.

"Hey!" Daryl barked at him. "Answer my damn question! Why're ya followin' us?" He didn't like the predatory way the guy was looking at you and he think he already knew the answer.

Still, the man ignored Daryl.

"Sweetheart, you might as well lower that gun and quit pretendin'. There's no way you can shoot me from all the way over th—ow! FUCK!"

Daryl jumped at the sound of the pop as you fired a shot into the man's leg. He dropped the ground clutching the wound in his thigh, wailing and yelling. Daryl lowered his weapon.

"I told ya not to talk fuckin' shit," he said. He crossed the space to the man and quickly took a knife from his belt. "Quit screamin'. You'll be fine." Daryl turned back to face you and his expression softened immediately. He wanted to get you as far away from this asshole as possible "C'mon," he drawled.

As the two of you rushed through the brush toward Daryl's motorcycle he glanced sideways at you. "Ya okay?" he asked gently.

You nodded. "Yeah. Thanks." You gave him a small smile and his worry eased some. "Maybe I shouldn't have shot him but.... he was creeping me out and pissing me off."

"Nah, ya should've... or I was gonna. I—I didn't like the way he was lookin' at ya. Somethin' 'bout him was off."

"I wasn't worried. Not with you right there," you said, your eyes catching his again.

He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and shrugged. "Seems like ya had it taken care of anyway... "C'mon. Let's just get home."

Prompt: "No way you can shoot me from all the way over th—ow!"

[lilacmingi]

THE GOAT

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Hongjoong x fem reader, Mingi x fem reader

Word count: 4,790

Note: I’m doing something new with this little series. Each part will have two imagines based on the duos from the Bouncy music video, so you guys are getting TWO imagines in one :D

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𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐉𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐆 | 홍중

Hongjoong released a long sigh, staring through the telescope he held between his glove-clad hands.

"Tired?" You questioned.

He scoffed. "No."

"Liar."

"I'm used to staying up late. You should know this by now."

"Yeah, yeah." You waved a dismissive hand, repositioning yourself on the raised platform Hongjoong sat upon, fixing your gaze on the city below. "How many nights are we going to spend keeping watch out here like this?"

"Until we get the signal."

"The signal." You muttered through a sigh of exasperation. "And when will we be getting that?"

"Don't know." Hongjoong pushed the telescope closed and set it aside.

You leaned back, resting on your palms while gazing out at the nighttime cityscape lit up with vibrant neon hues from the different signs displayed on buildings. The streets were empty, completely vacant and void of any civilians. This place you called your temporary home was practically a ghost town. Despite the people here being away from the government's control, they all seemed to prefer to move quietly throughout to city so as not to draw any attention to themselves.

The sound of a motorcycle revving loudly echoed somewhere in the distance.

Well, except some people.

Hongjoong chuckled softly. "That must be Seonghwa."

"Must be. What is he doing anyway?"

"Riding around with his new motorcycle gang I suppose."

"That doesn't seem like something that pertains to the plan."

"No, but who says we can't have a little fun while we wait to put the plan in motion? He grinned.

"Yeah. You have a point."

"Plus, we're just regular civilians going about our daily lives. Isn't that right?"

"Right."

Hongjoong adjusted the hat on his head, pushing it back enough to where he could look up at the stars. His cowboy attire was a bit ridiculous, but it was his disguise and unfortunately yours as well. All the boys were staying in separate hideouts around the city. You, Hongjoong, and Mingi were located in a part of the city that had a more western feel to it and in order to blend in, you had to dress the part. Not only that, but the boys were wanted for their crimes against the government and they needed to keep a low profile, lest they get captured by the android guardians.

"Mingi's face is plastered all over the city." You commented, recalling the numerous sketches of him you had seen stuck to nearly every building.

"I know."

"You don't think our cover is gonna get blown?"

"No. There have been plenty of times we've almost been caught in the past, but we always make it out."

He had a point. All of them were uncannily lucky when it came to escaping the clutches of the android guardians. Yes, Yeosang got captured once, but he was brought back completely unscathed with his emotions still intact. That was a miracle in and of itself. There wasn't a day that went by where the boys weren't thankful for all eight of them being safe.

"At this point, what are we even watching for? Nothing has happened in Prestige Academy for months."

"We're not watching for anything. We're just keeping an eye on them."

You hummed and nodded, your fingers mindlessly fiddling with the fringe on your vest.

"Do you ever miss home?" You questioned, eyes locked on the dreary slate gray city of Strictland far in the distance—a reminder of how vastly dissimilar this world was from the one you grew up in.

Hongjoong pursed his lips in thought.

"Not really. Our lives weren't exactly perfect and it seemed like none of us had a purpose. The group broke apart and everyone was dealing with their own issues. Here, we have a purpose and whatever problems we had back home are insignificant now, especially compared to the threat we're facing here." There was a brief pause before he added, "What about you?"

"Do I miss home?" You questioned.

He nodded.

"No, but sometimes yes. Back in our world, I felt stuck I guess. I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life and I felt like I was being held back. If you can believe it, I feel more free here, even with all the rules the government is trying to enforce."

Hongjoong chuckled softly. "I get what you mean."

"When we first started this journey together, I was terrified. I didn't think I had it in me to make such daring moves, but now I want to do thrilling things like infiltrating an academy, but I do sometimes miss the normality of my old life. I miss hanging out with you guys in that old tin building."

"I do too." Hongjoong smiled fondly, turning to you. "But it's like I said earlier, who says we can't have a little fun? This dystopian world may be bleak, but we can still take it easy and have moments of normalcy."

The light from the large neon sign reading The Goat shone along his face, highlighting his side profile as he looked at you. It was a heavenly sight and one that had your heart thumping wildly with adoration.

You felt strongly about Hongjoong and had been quietly swooning over him for a long time now. Unfortunately, with all of the chaos constantly going on around you, there was no possibility of confessing. However, in this moment of vulnerability, you found yourself uttering something you normally wouldn't say.

"I'm glad I'm here with you."

Hongjoong's head lifted at your words. Now that he was looking at you, his eyes studying your face, you got nervous.

"Sorry." You murmured an apology, fiddling with the fringe of your vest again. "It's just that... well, you mean a lot to me and if we hadn't gone on this rollercoaster of a journey together and I stayed at our old home I'd probably be miserable. What I'm trying to say is that I'm thankful that we stuck together."

His gaze softened, a gentle smile gracing his pretty lips.

"I feel the same way."

A beat passed and Hongjoong scooted closer, it was unnoticed by you, as you'd turned your gaze back to the neon dotted cityscape ahead, staring out at the nighttime scene. His lips pressed together in momentary contemplation while his fingers fidgeted with the chains attached to his black leather gloves.

Hongjoong was a smart man, but your words caused him some confusion. Was that a confession? A subtle way to declare your feelings without saying it outright? Maybe you were just showing him appreciation for your companionship—or maybe you were hinting that you wanted something more. He hoped it was the latter.

There was only one way to find out.

He had taken on the android guardians multiple times, broke into a museum to steal the Cromer, snuck around Strictland to set up speakers, and now he was planning to infiltrate Prestige Academy to save as many students as possible, which would be one of their biggest and riskiest plans ever. Confessing is nothing compared to that. It should be a piece of cake. Keyword should.

Swallowing his pride and pushing away his nerves, he leaned over towards you, the movement grabbing your attention. Seeing how close he was made you tense up, but you didn't make any efforts to move away. Truthfully, you didn't want to.

His eyes were a little wider than usual, hesitancy swimming in his brown irises. The reason for that reluctance, you didn't know.

"Hongjoong?" Your voice came out much quieter than you intended. "What's happening?"

"I'm about to kiss you."

There was a brief pause of silence as your brain processed what he had just said. The only word that managed to come out of your mouth in response was,

"Okay."

You hardly had time to internally cringe at your lame response as Hongjoong's lips made contact with yours, promptly silencing your thoughts. Their softness alone had your mind turning to mush, your eyelids sliding closed as you practically melted into him. His gloved hand moved to cradle the side of your face while your hands relocated from your lap to the nape of his neck to keep him held close, hoping that this moment would last long enough for you to believe it wasn't a dream. His kisses were so delicate and slow. It felt like he was pouring all of his emotions into it, conveying just how much you meant to him with each gentle press of his lips.

Only a few moments passed before Hongjoong's kisses became a little more heated as he picked up the pace, moving his lips with more urgency. He even nipped at your bottom lip a couple times, earning a quiet squeak of surprise from you. You were thankful to be sitting down or else your knees would have given out on the spot. He chuckled lowly against your lips, amused by your reaction. His sultry laugh made your heart thump rapidly, your hands tightening into fists.

It wasn't long before your hands moved to his hat, pulling it off his head and tossing it to the side somewhere so you could card your fingers through his blue locks, grabbing handfuls of it. He let out a low hum that vibrated against your lips and sent a rush of butterflies to your stomach. After a particularly dizzying kiss, you sighed out his name, your mind far too clouded to realize what you had said. Hongjoong couldn't ignore the way that lit a fire in him. He liked how you sounded and he wanted to hear it again.

At this point, keeping watch was at the back of Hongjoong's mind. All he could think about was you and how glorious it felt to be kissing you like this and what it would take for you to say his name again.

"Say my name." He sighed out between heated kisses. "Please."

You did as he asked, repeating his name in a breathless whisper, egging him on.

His hand that cupped your cheek slid around to the back of your neck, his thumb gently rubbing your nape. You suppressed a shiver as he took your bottom lip between his, encasing it in warmth.

The both of you parted ways, Hongjoong's eyes looking hazy while his tongue darted out to wet his lips that were slightly swollen from your intense make out session. It seemed impossible, but he looked even more stunning than usual.

"What was that for?" You questioned breathlessly.

"I didn't know how else to convey my feelings."

"So, instead of just confessing, you did something riskier by kissing me?" You asked amusedly.

"What can I say? I'm a man who likes to take risks." The statement was confident, but judging by the pink tinting the tips of his ears, the thought of straight up confessing hadn't crossed his mind.

"Now what?"

"Well..." Hongjoong trailed off, his hand finding yours. "We can be together and still take down Prestige."

You gave a lighthearted chuckle. "Alright then. If you think you can handle balancing a relationship and overthrowing the government."

"Please." He scoffed playfully. "I'm the captain. I can handle anything."

Hongjoong's eyes shifted slightly, moving away from your face and focusing on something in the distance.

"Someone's coming." He announced, his gaze fixed on a figure riding a delivery scooter.

You chuckled softly even though you were bummed out that the moment had ended.

Duty calls.

He scrambled for his telescope, opening it up and peering through the glass.

"We didn't order any food." You mused.

"I know."

He zeroed in on a logo stuck to the delivery scooter that read Blue Bird Delivery. A silent sigh of relief was released. As the person approached, Hongjoong began messing with the pulley system attached to the roof of the building, lowering a beat up metal bucket to the ground below.

The moped came to a stop and the rider pulled out a plastic bag, placing it in the bucket before Hongjoong raised it.

"Is that Yeosang?"

"I think so."

The driver, who you assumed to be Yeosang got back onto the scooter and took off towards his next destination.

Hongjoong removed the plastic bag, carelessly tossing it aside as he opened the styrofoam takeout container. Inside was a single Cheongyang chili pepper.

Your brows furrowed in perplexmxent, wondering why Yeosang would bring you something like that. Hongjoong removed the paper from the container and examined it briefly. Glancing around, he broke open the green chili pepper, pulling out a rolled up note that had been put inside.

"What it is?" You inquired, watching as he unraveled it.

"It's time."

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐈 | 민기

The atmosphere in the dim Chili Peppers bar was filled with the sound of low murmuring from the few patrons it housed, the occasional sound of clinking glasses or pool being played accompanied the low conversations. You pressed the corners of the wrinkled paper to the wall, hanging a new wanted poster, this one bigger than the ones that already hung there. Most of them depicted the same man while others showed images of a few other fugitives who were believed to run in the same group. The only thing that was different from the rest was that any poster that showed this particular man said DEAD OR ALIVE in large letters. You weren't exactly sure as to why this man was wanted, but you heard whispers throughout the city that he looted local businesses in the area and sometimes traveled with a group of other fugitives. Some even say he runs with the masked men in fedoras, but you're not sure—this town talks a lot.

The wooden doors of the saloon squeaked as they were pushed open by a strong force. A tall figure stepped into the establishment, all of the attention drawn to him, the chatter in the bar coming to an abrupt stop. Every patron in the saloon had their heads directed towards the stranger, their eyes following him across the room. He wore a large hat that blocked his face, keeping his head low as he approached the bar you stood behind. You took note of the large shotgun strapped to his back, not thinking too much of it, as quite a few people around here carried weapons with them.

"How can I help you?" You asked, leaning on the wooden bar top.

"Why else do you think I came to this bar?" The man responded, his voice low and incredibly deep.

"Not everybody comes into this bar to drink, you know."

"Soju." He responded, taking a seat on one of the stools.

Reaching underneath the bar, you grabbed a shot glass and a cold bottle of soju from the mini fridge. Cracking open the alcohol, you poured the clear liquid into a shot glass, sliding it over to the man. His gloved hand reached out and lifted the shot to his lips, downing it just as quickly as you had poured it. He slammed the glass down onto the counter with his head hanging low. It was only when he raised his head that you got a clear look at his face.

First, you noticed his strikingly handsome features, then instant recognition. This was the man from the wanted poster.

You opened your mouth to speak, but your voice was stuck in your throat as he stood up, pulling his long, leather coat back to flash the gun sitting in a holster on his hip.

"When I turn around, duck under the bar." He instructed lowly.

What? Is what you wanted to say, but you didn't have time as he spun around, pulling the gun out.

You dropped to the floor and covered your head as the sound of gunshots rang out above you, some stray bullets hitting the bottles of alcohol displayed behind the counter, the shattered glass falling onto you, liquor splashing onto the wooden boards of the floor.

You didn't even have time to consider wether you trusted this stranger or not, yet you did exactly as he said without a second thought. Then again, it was the only thing you knew to do when you saw him draw his weapon.

A thump sounded from above you, the noise drawing your attention. The man now stood on  the bar holding the shotgun that was previously strapped to his back, firing the weapon mercilessly. Based on the heavy thuds you heard after every shot, he was good.

"Alright. It's safe. You can come out now."

Deciding to peek out from your hiding spot, you slowly stood up, peering over the bar top. Bodies littered the floor, tables were overturned, and shell casings were scattered everywhere. Your eyes were blown wide in surprise as you took in the scene before you. The stranger hopped down off the bar, landing behind the counter with you. You unconsciously took a step back, still wary of the man.

"Who are you?" You asked in a shaky voice, rattled by the experience you just had.

"Mingi."

When you didn't respond, he held his hands up in a placating manner to show he wasn't a threat.

"I won't hurt you. I'm a good guy."

Still skeptical, you studied him for a moment, your eyes scanning his sharp features for any signs of dishonesty.

"I saved you." He added.

"Saved me?"

"Yes. Everyone in this bar was working for the government."

Your expression shifted upon hearing that.

"Strictland is getting tougher on enforcing their rules and regulations. They were going to bring you in and have your emotions taken away."

"What?"

You couldn't believe what you were hearing, shaking your head in denial.

"That's not possible. This is the outskirts of the city. The government has no control here."

"They're trying to."

Mingi could see your breathing start to quicken, a look of fear crossing your features.

"What do I do?"

"You come with me."

"But I don't know you."

"Have you ever heard of The Black Pirates?"

"No."

"They're a group of people who are rebelling against the government and trying to undo what Strictland has tried to enforce. Me and my friends work with them."

So that's why his picture is all over the city. Those other wanted posters are probably the friends he mentioned.

"Trust me, it's best if you listen and come with me." He added.

After taking a few seconds to think it over, you caved and agreed to go with Mingi. It seemed to be your best and only option.

"Smart girl." He commented. "Follow me."

Taking a final glance at the bar that was in complete disarray, you turned your back and followed Mingi out of the establishment. There was something sad about walking out of that dingy bar. It felt like you were leaving a part of you behind. Chili Peppers was a place you had spent a year working at and met many  different people. You were well-acquainted with the regulars and enjoyed catching up with them when they came in. It was a fun job and one that had marked a new start of your life, so walking away from it broke your heart.

"Can I go back?" You asked.

"Probably not. You'll need to lay low."

"Right."

Unable to look at the bar any longer, you dropped your head and moved forward, rounding the corner of the building. It was only when Mingi came to a stop that you lifted your head.

He stood before the side of the Chili Peppers bar, staring at the multiple wanted posters depicting a sketch of his face that were plastered along the siding. Painted in harsh and aggressive black streaks across the posters was a giant Z. Mingi rolled his eyes, letting out an annoyed huff.

"So freaking persistent." He muttered under his breath.

"What's that?" You inquired.

His tongue poked the inside of his cheek in agitation. "He's the one in control of everything going on in Strictland."

You pressed your lips together as a bitter taste invaded your mouth. "I see."

Mingi turned to look at your expression, seeing the discomfort that flashed across your features as unwanted memories more than likely invaded your mind. It was clear to him that you felt ill will against Z.

"We all hate him." Mingi spoke up, hoping to ease your mind a bit. "That's why my friends are here. To get rid of all these rules and laws. This world is... wrong."

"I used to live in Strictland." You spoke up after a moment of silence. "I had to watch my friends turn into emotionless zombies. The android guardians tried to get me, but I fled. That's how I ended up here in the outskirts of the city. I felt safe... until now."

Mingi frowned upon hearing your story. Z and his twisted way of thinking has ruined so many lives. Your story was just a reminder of why he and his friends constantly put themselves in the line of danger and why they needed to continue doing so.

They wouldn't stop until this world was saved.

Your feet dragged through the dirt that lined the streets of the city, your eyes cast downward to stare at your shoes as they kicked up tiny puffs of dust.

"So, where are you taking me?"

"My hideout."

"And where is that?"

"Rooftop of The Goat."

"Rooftops aren't very secretive."

Mingi chuckled softly. "No, but it's the perfect spot to keep watch. My friends and I split off into groups of two so it would be harder for us to be tracked down and possibly caught if the android guardians decide to infiltrate this temporary safe haven. I've been staying in this part of town for a while."

"I heard about a group of people displaying acts of rebellion against Strictland's government and they've never been caught. It seems like they slip away in the nick of time every single time." You paused for a moment. "That was you and your friends, wasn't it?"

Mingi gave a nod.

A short walk through the dusty streets led you to the building with the giant neon sign reading: The Goat shining brightly at the rooftop, the word entrance accompanying the name of the building. It was then that you realized there were no doors.

"Come on." Mingi beckoned, climbing up a set of rickety metal stairs that lined the side of dilapidated building.

With each step, the stairs rattled softly and you hoped they would stay together long enough for you to reach the top.

"Hongjoong." Mingi announced, using his knuckles to knock lightly on a metal pipe as the both of you emerged on the rooftop.

"Oh, Mingi. Hi." A man with vibrant blue hair and cowboy attire greeted while peering through a telescope.

"Any news?"

"Not at all." The man who you assumed was Hongjoong lowered the telescope and pushed it together into its compact form before setting it aside. When he finally turned to look at Mingi, his eyes landed on you.

"Who's this?"

"You know I told you I was going to Chili Peppers to take care of some business?"

"Yeah."

"Everyone sitting in that bar tonight was working for the government. Y/n was the bartender and the only one there with her emotions in tact. They were going to bring her in and brainwash her."

"The government has no jurisdiction here."

"They don't seem to care. You know Z is going to try and get his way no matter what."

"Great." Muttered Hongjoong. "Just what we needed."

Mingi removed his hat and let out a sigh, running his fingers through his short, choppily-cut pink hair.

"This is bad." He said to Hongjoong.

Meanwhile you were left to watch the tense exchange between the two, a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. These two and their friends were the only people who could undo all of the damage Z has done to Strictland and here they are, visibly distraught.

"We still have the raid on Prestige." Hongjoong mentioned, making your ears perk up.

"Right." Mingi nodded. "That'll surely light a fire under Z. He won't see it coming."

Hongjoong peered into the distance, presumably where Prestige Academy sat.

"It's just a matter of time." He murmured.

"What's going on with Prestige?" You inquired, too curious to keep your mouth shut.

"We're going to sneak in and break everyone out of their trances. We've got an elaborate plan in place, we're just waiting to put it into motion." Mingi explained.

The government of Strictland was very powerful and this group of, you weren't sure how many people, are out here making big moves in order to save humanity. You commend them for their bravery but at the same time you wondered how someone could be so brave.

"I can't believe you guys do stuff like this."

"We have to. It's what we're here for." Mingi told you, his eyes holding a tsunami of emotions: commitment, determination, perhaps even a hint of fear.

"I'll leave you two alone." Hongjoong spoke up. "If you need me, I'll be downstairs."

With that, he stood up and entered a door that you assumed led to the inside of the building,  leaving the rooftop so you and Mingi could converse in private.

"Have a seat." The pink-haired male gestured to a raised platform resembling the front of a ship with two telescopes set up on it.

He stepped up on the platform, offering you a gloved hand to grab onto, which you did and allowed him to assist you onto the raised surface.

He set his hat aside and took a seat, his long legs hanging off the side of the platform. You followed suit and made yourself comfortable beside him, resting your arms on the metal bar of the railing that lined the ship-like structure.

"So, what's your story?" You asked, gently swinging your legs back and forth.

Mingi's captivating lips stuck out in though while his eyes focused on the buildings in the distance.

"I guess I should start from the beginning."

And so he did. From being brought here by the Cromer to taking the places of the masked men in fedoras and saving Strictland. You stayed silent the whole time and let him speak without interrupting. When he finally finished, a heavy and lengthy silence hung in the night air.

"So, you're not from this world." You said it like a statement.

"No."

"And you agreed to take the place of the men in fedoras just like that?"

"Yes. There's no way we can go back to our old world, especially knowing this one needs saving."

An overwhelming rush of admiration swelled in your chest, as did your respect for Mingi, if that was even possible.

"You and your friends are so brave."

He huffed out a light chuckle. "Yeah, I guess we are. It's weird. When we were told we would have to step up, we did. We did it without thinking."

"Do you ever get scared?"

"A lot. There have been times where I worry our plans won't work or one of my friends is about to get caught. I'm afraid one day, we won't be so lucky."

"If you need an extra person on your team, I'm willing to step up."

Mingi's brows raised, his sharp eyes becoming rounder in surprise.

"I'm not sure what I can do, but I'm willing to help however I can." You added.

"Are you sure?"

Yes, Mingi had just met you but he felt somewhat protective of you and there was a small part of him that couldn't see you get hurt or captured by the android guardians.

"Yes I'm sure." You were adamant in your decision. "I lost the only friends I had to that dictator. He stripped them of their emotions."

Mingi's eyes met yours, serious and searching for more confirmation even though he could see it clearly on your face—there was no changing your mind.

"We need all the help we can get, but it won't be easy." He told you.

"Whatever you need me to do, I'll do it. I'm up for whatever Strictland has to throw at me."

"Very well."

About that time, Hongjoong emerged onto the rooftop with a large sheet of rolled up paper in his hand that you presumed was a blueprint.

"Joong, we've got a new recruit." Mingi informed him.

"Is that so?"

You nodded in confirmation.

"What do you say we fill her in on the plans to invade Prestige?"

"I'm way ahead of you." Hongjoong wiggled the blueprint in his hand, bringing it over to spread it along the ground, revealing a grand plan. "Let's begin."

Seonghwa & Yeosang ⟡ Yunho & Jongho ⟡ San & Wooyoung

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

[shiorihoshino]

Where Ruin Remembers

When Reality Fractures [Part 3]

When Reality Fractures | 1 | 2 | 3 [here currently] | 4 | 5 | Echoes in the Snow | 1 |

"You are not going to drop me off at my apartment in your car!"

You refused to budge from your spot, arms crossed as you stood your ground. You would rather walk home, feet sore from your heels, than get into your boss's expensive eye catching black car. You already ignored your neighbors to the best of your abilities, there is no way you will give them any chance to strike an interest in you, much less the horrid possibilities of entering in an unwanted conservation with them. Please, no.

You narrowed your eyes at your boss, watching as they pinched the bridge of their nose, eyes fluttering close, a sigh escaping. Ruby gems reappeared, drilling into your being, yet you didn't back down. No matter what, you refuse to use the car.

Tugging the blazer front shut, you huffed. "We're not using your car. I can walk back myself. I'll return this once I wash it."

Turning, your heels clicked against the concrete of the parking lot as you headed to the exit. From behind, you heard the rustling of your employer's clothes. Not that it brought your attention back to them. You will not waver.

"You like to bargain, don't you?"

Nevermind. You froze, head whipping back at the familiar line. Your mouth opened but a yelp escaped, a helmet thrown your way. Not wanting to get struck by the gear, your hands scrambled to catch the item. A sigh leaving your lips the moment you managed to cradle the helmet against your chest.

Your boss's lip quirked up, eyes narrowing and crinkling around the edges. "Get on."

Blinking up, you notice the motorcycle your employer was perched on. Glancing back to the car and then to the helmet in your hands, you pressed your lips together. Two choices...

Slipping the helmet over your head and securing the strap, you mount the bike seat behind your boss. The leather cool, near cold, against you, seeped through the fabric of your clothes. Checking that the blazer won't be blown off during the ride, you hesitated, debating where it would be appropriate to touch the other.

Less than patient, your boss kicked up the engine. The sound forced you to decide, not keen on being thrown off. You wound your arms tight around their waist, hands clutching the black button up dress shirt, crinkling the fabric.

Eyes, frantic and wide, darted up to the back of your boss's helmet. "You remember the speed limit, right?!" There was no answer, though you could feel the bike inching forward. You cry out your employer's name just as the bastard had the motorcycle sped off, cutting your call into a scream.

As the two of you tear through the road, you thank whatever being the people pray to that there wasn't much on the road. Not that a crowded road would stop or slow your boss. You figured them ignoring the speed limit and potential fees stem from how rich they are. Whatever fees they can be paid without problem, but what about points gained?

Aside from the chances of being caught and stopped for speeding, it was a pleasant ride. You enjoyed the trill, even if fear lingered at the back of your head. The night air whipping your hair about refreshed you, though the tangles would be a nightmare later. But those are later, for now, you rather enjoy this while you can.

The moment the bike decelerated to a stop, you swung yourself off your seat. Huffing, you glared at your boss's smug expression that the visor didn't manage to hide. Taking off your helmet, you chuck it at their head with no remorse.

It didn't hit, your boss's hand catching the gear before it could. You expected as much. Your employer was those composed and perfect people who had everything seemingly under control. Much to your annoyance, often times. Aside from your bare minimum tasks as their secretary, you felt like you were stealing money.

You worked for enough hours to be paid but not taxed that you lost. You aren't given insane demands, unless your boss decided to mess with you. The dream job that should not be real. Then again... You rather have it than not.

"You should be thanking me for my generosity."

Your eyes drifted up, your focus brought back to your employer who dismounted their bike, helmet now off. You watched as they combed back the messy strands. With your eyes following their hand movement, you met the other's eyes on the way. Huffing, you averted your gaze, hearing rather than seeing the key get taken out and pocketed.

Your heels clicked as you headed into the building, focusing on the noise than the heat in your cheeks and the thundering of your heart. The combination a dizzy sensation that cloud your mind and have a dull buzz stuff in your ears. You inhaled, holding the breath, before exhaling to clear your head and slow the thumping against your rib cage.

"I would if you stop trying to get fined."

Your employer followed not far behind, chuckling. "And i would have believed you if you hadn't been enjoying the ride, sweetie."

The warm air hit your ear, forcing out a squeak of surprise. Hand flying up to shield your poor ear, you threw a glare over your shoulder. Much to the other's enjoyment, unfazed by the frown you had accompanied your glare. The lack of reaction pulled your frown into a pout, that you didn't let the other see by turning back to the elevator doors.

"Don't do that." You let go of your ear, hand tugging at the blazer still on your person. "And stop calling me that."

The elevator chimed, the doors sliding open. You stepped in, avoiding the heat pressing against your back. The gentle pressure weighing on your shoulders never left though. Nor, did the scent of expensive cologne, part you picked up being sandalwood. You were still surrounded even if you avoided the direct source.

Heat extended to the tip of your ears as a deep chuckle reached them. "It's amusing to watch you pretend to not be affected." As if to mock you, or further prove their point, they added, "sweetie."

You clench the blazer in your hand, eyes narrowing at nothing particular in front of you. The jazz music helped immerse you in your contemplation. Would it be worth strangling your boss in an elevator? You really do want to wipe the smug expression off their face.

[widowpunx]

Into My Arms (Rated: Explicit) [Down The Rabbit Hole We Go | Kinktober Celebrations]

Summary: In Wanda's opinion the motorcycle trip turned out better than expected. She overcame her fear of motorcycles and was rewarded for it. 

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff X Natasha Romanoff.

Words:4,765

⚠️WARNING⚠️ Just 18+ people are welcome to read.

THIS WORK CONTAINS: Graphics Descriptions of Smut, Oral Sex, Blow Jobs, Mommy Kink, Vaginal Sex and Dirty Talk. Natasha has a penis.

Post Black Widow Movie, Road Trips, Established Relationship, On The Run. English is not my first language so I'm sorry for any mistakes.

котенок - kitty

детка - Babe

Боже мой - My God.

Available on ao3

Wanda was really scared at first. Her heart must have been thumping so loudly and hard ion her that she could feel it pounding through the leather jacket and all. Every time they came to a curve, she would clutch so hard that Natasha probably couldn’t breath.

For the whole first two hours, Wanda just shut her eyes and cursed herself for ever agreeing to get on Natasha’s damned motorcycle. Wanda was so sure that the thing would topple every time they went around a bend. And damn her, Natasha choose the road with the most winding curves in Italy. God, Wanda must have been crazy to agree to this romantic trip. Maybe crazy in love with this wild redhead.

Natasha had been planning this romantic motorcycle ride along the beautiful Amalfi Coast for weeks. The motorcycle trip was a distraction to forgot that they were fugitives and the government was hunting them.

But, by the third hour, Wanda found herself peaking over her girlfriend’s shoulder. Her legs would tense in anticipation when they came to a bend, and Natasha was starting to lean into the curves like a pro. Under the helmet Natasha was grinning like an idiot loving this sense of freedom. Riding her motorcycle was like flying.

Wanda was grining a bit despite her continuous fear. The feel of the streaming fresh air flowing through her helmet was exhilarating for. The adrenaline of the moment was turning her on. The fear turned into excitment. The feel of the powerful engine purring between her legs was getting her aroused.

God, Wanda didn’t want this trip to end, but if it didn’t soon, she was gonna make a mess on Natasha's motorcycle. This time they were headed down the road to a cozy hotel at Sorrento Village. Wanda had never been there before. She had learned to let her girlfriend make the plans and surprise her. Natasha always seemed to know what would make her happier.

Even this damn motorcycle. Wanda had resisted her so long. But finally after a long night filled with passion and love making, Natasha asked her to try it once. And Wanda, she couldn’t deny her lover anything that night, so she agreed. How could she have known that she would learn to love this too?

As the sunset falls, the road curved in and out of the trees, and their green shapes flashed by in a blur of fresh wind. From time to time the coast came into view, and Wanda could see the tide cresting against the ragged rocks below them.

Once in awhile, a shaft of fear would stab her as Wanda imagined them crashing out of control and their bodies falling to be splintered on those rocks. She would shiver then. But then Wanda would feel the strong back of her girlfriend pressed against her chest, and she would remember her strength, her gentle competence and she relaxed.

Wanda had learned to trust this Natasha in so many parts of her life. Here Wanda trusted her with her life itself, and she knew that Natasha would care for it as she always did.

When they finally came to the entrance to the hotel, it was both too soon and too late for her. To soon for the ride that had become an odyssey to end. And too late because by now not only her panties but her jeans as well were soaked wet. Wanda felt the arousal humming along her nerves, the throbbing ache of her swollen clit made it hard for her to walk straight, her legs were a bit shaky.

In their hotel room, Wanda could hear the muted sound of the waves breaking on the rocks, the tide was a gentle swell lapping at the coast leaving a tracery of foam on the rocks. She thought of making love to Natasha there and relief the throbbing heat between her thighs but Natasha had other ideas.

She and Nat enter in a cozy Italian restaurant near to the hotel during their dinner time. She was eyeing her girlfriend amusedly. Natasha has a devilsh smile on her face. She knew her so well, she suspected her aroused mode and her intense desire to feel her touch on her body. 

While Natasha checked some messages Wanda didn’t say anything, she just acted like, everything was okay. She wanted to tease Natasha so she just craned her neck and her girlfriend could see her generous cleavage shifting in her blouse. Her tits were practically bulging out of her bra and black leather jacket.

The effect on the redhead was immediate. Natasha licked her lips and sat back in her chair sipping her cold beer. Wanda smiled inwardly and toyed with the button on her blouse, from time to time rubbing her fingers over her boobies teasing her girlfriend.

Natasha kept reading the messages on her phone as she tried to act casual, but Wanda could see her green eyes following the movement of her dancing fingers on her tits. It was getting on now, and Natasha must have been pretty horny by now, being exposed to her innocent seduction and not being able to ran her tongue over her boobies.

Grinning broadly Natasha was staring at her face with undisguised lust. "Are you teasing me, uh?"

"Of course not." Wanda said with a smile but caught Natasha's lustful green eyes burning with desire and blushed. She squirmed in her seat as Natasha rose and sat beside her and murmured in her ear how much she wanted to bury her face on her slippery pussy and how much she wanted to lick her pretty tits and suck her nipples. 

Of course this caused Wanda became more needy and eager to return to their hotel room and stay alone with Nat. She stood up and made her way to the hotel room making sure her lover was following her.

Natasha followed her into the room, watching her femenine hips swaying provocatively before her. Wanda smiled making a fast job with her own clothes, throwing them on the floor as she made her way to the bed.

"What are your plans, Ms. Maximoff?" Natasha asked with a crooked grin.

'I think my plans are pretty obvious, don't you think?" Wanda giggled foolishly and took her breasts in her hands to give them a playful squeeze and emphasize her words.

Natasha smiled back. "I'd like to know how I can help you." It was then that Wanda smiling mischievously stood in front of Natasha and unbuttoned her jeans and gave them a tug to pull them down, instantly her erection jumped, freeing itself from its tight confines. Wanda took it in her hand and gave it a few gentle tugs as she felt Natasha shiver. 

 “Well mommy. I want you to kiss me first.” Wanda giggled and pressed her tits against her girlfriend's. "And then you can make love to me." With one hand still firmly grasping her girlfriend’s hard cock, she threw the other around her neck and pulled her to her, pressing her mouth on the redhead's.

Natasha groaned feeling Wanda's tongue invading her mouth as she returned the hungry kiss, devouring her mouth with passion and love. She loved to feel Wanda's naked body against her. The heat of her soft body was intoxicating like a drug. Natasha could feel the warmth irradiating from Wanda skin, she also could the goosebumps covering it as her horny girlfriend pressed herself suggestively against her.

The kiss was consuming the air in her lungs but Natasha didn't broke the kiss, the burning in her lungs was a painful pleasure but suddenly Wanda did. She stares at Wanda's happy eyes as she runs her hands down her spine.

“Lie down, mommy!” Wanda gasped, almost pushing the smiling redhead backwards onto the bed. "Let me take care of you." With that said Wanda helped Natasha undress, gently removing each piece of clothing off her body.

Usually Natasha was the one who made the decisions in the bedroom. In their relationship she ordered and Wanda obeyed, however Natasha let Wanda take the reins of the situation ... for now. She was very curious to see what Wanda would do next. Natasha can't deny that she was fascinated by the way her shy Wanda was acting, almost begging her to fuck her!

The redhead smiled and lay in the middle of the bed. She lay down on her back with her huge hard cock sticking straight up, throbbing in the air. Her smile grew wider when she noticed Wanda's eyes glued on her hard prick.

Wanda licked her lips at the gorgeous sight, her needy throbbed with intense need. She longed to jump on top of her mommy's veiny cock and ride it till she forget her own name. But she was determined to get mommy's mouth first.

A smile curved Natasha's lips as Wanda crawled onto the bed on all fours, her pretty eyes glued on her face and a sexy smile on her lips. She straddled her thighs and paused for a second as she placed Natasha's throbbing shaft between her glistening folds and then began to roll her hips. She loved to rub her pussy on the length of Natasha's prick. It was one of her favorite things. Wanda liked to feel the friction of their sexes, it always took her breath away.

Natasha contained a groan, her cock stirred with excitement as her girlfriend teased her. Wanda really knew how to turn her on. "Wanda ... Babe ..." She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment and enjoyed the warm of Wanda's pussy sliding up and down her member.

"Mmm ... Боже мой! ... Feels good!" Wanda hummed with pleasure feeling the tip touching her clit, shivering from head to toe, the warmth of her pussy made Natasha gasp. Wanda keep going for a couple of minutes but reluctantly she lifted her pussy off her mommy's wet prick.

"Can you lick my pussy, mommy?" Wanda asked with cute puppy eyes and knelt with her bald pussy directly over the redhead’s face and held her glistening pussy lips wide open.

 "Oh baby you look so pretty." Natasha smirked as she gazed up at her girlfriend's juicy pussy, her eyes burning with lust as her tongue licked her lips in anticipation. Wanda was so wet and hot for her.

Natasha's nostrils flared as Wanda's scent filled her nose. The scent of her pussy always turned her on and the fact that she Wanda was acting so shamelessly and needy made her body burn and her penis began to harden and swell to huge proportions. Natasha wanted to eat her girlfriend out for hours. An undescribable urgency grow and grow in her heart.

"Tell me, baby. Is this what you want, детка? Do you want my mouth on your sweet pussy?" Natasha whispered hotly and hold Wanda's naked ass cheeks with both hands. "Yes ... Yes ... mommy. That's all I want, please." Wanda with blushed face just stuttered before Natasha grinned and burried her mouth into her needy drooling cunt.

Wanda squealed, her hot obscene groans echoing on the hotel room. The sokovian girl in delight began to grind her throbbing pussy over Natasha's sucking mouth as the dominant redhead kissed the sensitive wet inner flesh of her pussy. Wanda let out a throaty moan as her lover's tongue probed her pussy, sliding repeatedly over her sensitive clit as her ass sway back and forth in a sexy repetitive motion.

Natasha closed her eyes and opened her mouth wide, and then slide her tongue deep into Wanda's warm pussy depths. She groans slightly and her hands grasp the witch's round ass as she noisily slurped up the tasty pussy juices. 

"Oh yeah! It feels so good!" Wanda whimpered with ecstasy as she rolled her hips, rubbing and grinding her pussy, smearing her drooling pussy onto mommy's experienced mouth. 

Wanda looked down between her blushed round tits at mommy's gorgeous face, seeing only her eyes close blissfully above her hairless pussy mound. "Oh yess! Oh mommy!" She moaned as she kept grinding her pussy on mommy's mouth. Wanda closed her eyes and lose herself in this delicious moment as Natasha warm tongue stimulate each sensitive spot on her vulva, her mouth felt fantastic in her cunt. Wanda only hears Mommy hums in delight, without missing a slurp.

Wanda giggled happily, hunching her pussy against mommy's lips. She love moments like this. The way mommy's licked the full length of her inflamed slit and suck on each fold with a few gentle tugs and then burying her tongue deeply in the warm depths of her quivering pussy, sucking all the tasty juice pouring out of her hole.

Natasha grunted and grasped her girlfriend's nude grinding ass as she sucked hungrily, licking every delicious part of Wanda's swollen slit and pushing her tongue hard and deep into her pussy hole.

Wanda was making a mess on her face but she didn't care. Natasha was breathless, her fingers dug deeply into Wanda's creamy buttocks, leaving red marks in her soft delicate skin. She acted as a thirsty woman, her pussy juices flooded into her mouth and she swallowed every tasty drop. Natasha could hear the sexy moans of her girlfriend as she seal her lips around her stiff clit and sucked on it.

"Are you enjoying this, babe?" Natasha asked between wild licks and heavy breaths.

"Ohh yeah, lick my pussy, mommy! I'm loving this so much!" The sokovian girl moaned and kept grinding her pussy up and down on the her face as her hands slide behind Natasha’s head, pressing her gasping mouth as tightly as possible against her tingling drooling pussy. Wanda was so close. She squirming and groaning, her round tits jiggling and her skin covered in sweat. She felt so fucking good receiving Natasha's tongue-fucking. Finally, the need to cum overcame as mommy kept her mouth glued to her quivering pussy and sucked hard.

"Oh mommy!" Wanda let out a loud groan as wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure filled her pussy, her chest and brain. She panted, her body trembled as she collapsed on the bed. She wanted to lay down with Natasha and enjoy the post orgasmic bliss but she had her own plans tonight to take care of mommy. She look up at Natasha who was smiling and licking her glistening lips.

Wanda blushed a little as mommy said with a grin. "You taste delicious, детка?" before giving her a soft kiss on the lips. Natasha smirked and let her hands roaming her girlfriend’s femenine body, massaging her tits as she spread warm smooches up and down her neck.

"Thank you, mommy." Wanda said with a shy grin and move her hand downward to grasp Natasha's prick. Mommy's grin grew wider as Wanda moved her fist up and down the huge length of her stiff penis, squeezing the warm veiny shaft in her palm.

 "Can I play with your cock, mommy?" Wanda asked and licked her lips. The girl was surprised that she could hardly get her fingers around mommy's beautiful dong.

"Of course you can, baby." Natasha smiled before giving Wanda a kiss on the cheek. "My cock is all yours."

"Thank you, mommy." Wanda giggled happily and kissed mommy's on the lips, then she whispered hotly into her ear. "I need to taste your cock. I need it so bad.” Natasha saw as Wanda slid down between her legs and her eyes glued on her stiff cock.

Natasha shivered when Wanda grabbed her cock and pull on it from base to tip, running her fingertips around the swollen tip.

"Do you like how hard I am for you, детка?

"Yes, mommy. I like it so much." Wanda nodded in response before she sealed her lips around the tip of her cock.

"Oh Wanda!" Natasha said with a throaty voice as she saw Wanda opening her mouth and sliding her pretty kissable lips slowly down over the length of her veiny member, swallowing her hard cock as best she could.

At first, Wanda couldn’t get all mommy's tasty prick into her mouth, but once she relaxed her throat she was able to deep-throat her cock all the way to the base of her member. Wanda moaned with eyes closed, her inflamed lips pressed around her shaft, mommy's hairless balls were on her chin.

Natasha saw stars when Wanda ran her fingers up her thighs and then her abs as she began to move her mouth eagerly up and down on her stiff prick. With a long sexy grunt, Natasha began to slide her cock in and out of her mouth. "Mmmmm!" Wanda moaned in response, mommy's hard cock sliding down her throat with each slow thrust.

She closed her lips tightly and sucked it nosily. With a smile Wanda breathed in and took mommy fully into her mouth. Her mouth watered loving this tasty cock penetrating her mouth. Wanda was so aroused that her inner thighs were wet and glistening with her pussy juice, her sex was all juicy and throbbing.

Natasha watched Wanda's red lips around her cock and groaned. Slowly she pumped her cock into her throat, listening to the soft, gurgling sounds Wanda made.

Wanda hummed and sucked her mommy's huge cock for a long minutes, enjoying the flavor and warmth of her veiny meat on her mouth. But pretty soon, her super-hungry pussy demanded more! It quivered and twitched between her thighs, just longing to be fucked by mommy.

Suddenly, Wanda let the tasty cock slip out of her mouth and sat up. She was hot and horny, and desperate for mommy's cock! She wanted her dominant mommy now. She wanted her beautiful cock filling her pussy, stretching her dephts like she always loved it!

Wanda was so highly aroused by the prospect of fucking mommy. She quickly straddled mommy's muscled pale thighs until her drooling pussy was placed above the tip of her cock. Mommy’s cock stood up proudly, her shaft was furiously red and hard, ready for her.

Wanda moaned deep in her throat and grasped mommy's cock at the base, holding it upright between her thighs. Then with a giggle she let the swollen cockhead snuggle between the lips of her pussy.

Natasha felt herself burning with intense need as Wanda groaned and sank down slowly on top of her, letting her weight do all the work. Inch after inch her tight pussy managed to swallow her veiny cock.

Wanda grimaced a bit but she didn’t stop until she felt Natasha’s pubic bone press against her inflamed pussy lips and her tip impacting her womb. It was huge and she loved it! Wanda knew her lover's long cock was in her all the way up her pussy. Her depths were burning with delight, her pussy was open and stretched, and filled with the Natasha's cock.

"Oh, baby, you're so fucking tight!" Natasha growled. She couldn't help but push her hips upwards and send her cock deeper causing Wanda to groan and giggle in satisfaction. The gorgeous witch didn't move for long seconds, she was enjoying so much to have mommy's cock buried to the hilt in her stretched pussy.

Wanda loss her breath and closed her eyes and try to adjust to the size this ten inch cock. Mommy's cock felt so good in her. She never had anything so deep before but then she met Natasha and let her fuck her one night after a hard mission. Since that day Wanda knew she was addicted to Natasha's cock.

Wanda giggled happily as she rode mommy slowly. She began to bounce her hips up and down on her mommy's huge cock, fucking herself again and again on her delicious dong. All the time Wanda grasped her jiggling tits in both hands, forcing her pussy to swallow each delicious inch of cock.

Natasha had a proud smile as she looked down between Wanda's creamy thighs, her lustful eyes glowed at the lewd sight of her thick, glistening veiny cock disappearing time after time into Wanda's drooling pussy. Her hips moved in time with hers, pumping her hard meat into her clenching pussy hole as best she could.

Wanda let out a obscene moan and began to move her femenine hips up and down in urgent motions, faster and deeper, forcing her pussy to swallow her mommy's huge prick, then lifting her nude ass as until the cockhead was inside her and then push her stretched pussy down again, grinding her swollen clit hard veiny shaft each time.

"You feel so incredible around my cock!" Natasha panted, feeling Wanda's pussy tighten around her throbbing dick. "I love my good girl's pussy!"

"Uhhmm mommy! I love you mommy!" Wanda gasped happily, loving her lover's compliments as her eyes rolled back and impaled herself on Natasha’s dong again and again. "I'm your good girl! I'm your good girl, mommy!" Her pussy juices flowed profusely, making a mess on mommy's prick as her sticky juices bathed her heavy balls.

Wanda closed her eyes and sobbed with pleasure, squeezing her naked tits. Her back was arched in ecstasy as she rode her dominant mommy, fucking her with all her might.

 The effect on Natasha was instantaneous. The redhead growled, grasping at her girlfriend's ass she began to thrust her cock upwards as Wanda fucked her back, their wet sexes making loud, obscene wet noises as she pounded hard her juicy pussy.

 Wanda sobbed and fell forwards, supporting her weight on her hands, placing them on Natasha's huge tits as her ass sways up and down, grinding and impaling her tingling pussy on mommy's rampant cock. 

"Yeah, fuck me like that, детка!" Natasha whispered and took the panting girl in her arms and brought her sweaty tits close to her face.. "Ride me! Ride my cock, котенок"

“Oh mommy!” Wanda panted with hooded eyes as Natasha licked hungrily her hanging tits and sucking and her stiff nipples into her mouth, making her pussy cream on mommy's cock. "it’s sooo bigggggg!” She groaned, gasping for air as mommy's thick cock plunged in and out of her tight slit more faster. Her green eyes were closed as she rode the redhead's prick faster and faster, her drooling pussy was on fire, burning with intense need, longing for her cum in her.

"God! What a incredible fuck! Only Natasha, her soulmate, her lover, her protector, the love of her life, her Natasha knew how to fuck her and make her see stars. Wanda whined and brought a hand to her pussy and rub her swollen clit frantically as she rode her cock, her naked ass sliding up and down with urgency.

 Natasha held her girlfriend’s hips and helped Wanda to ride her. Her green eyes enjoyed the thrilling sight as she watched Wanda's tight pinkish pussy hole engulfing her entire cock. The redhead moaned and gasped as Wanda sobbed, her stretched pussy sliding up and down the length of her member. Natasha was surprised by Wanda's strength. She was riding her so hard that the bed began to crack and bed bounce underneath them.

Natasha was trying to hold back her climax but Wanda's pussy was so tight and so warm inside that she couldn’t hold back the tingling sensation rising in her balls much longer and the violent throbbing base of her achin penis.

"Боже мой! Oh mommy! your balls are so swollen and I can feel your cock throbbing in me." Wanda hummed with a dreamy grin and reached back behind her nude buttocks, cupping her Natasha's swollen nut sack, squeezing them and massaging them with gentle tugs. Wanda begged and encouraged Natasha! "Come in me, mommy!... Squirt your hot seed up my pussy!... Come in my pussy… I want this load in my pussy, mommy!”

Natasha smiled broadly as Wanda impaled herself down on her cock with urgency, grinding her pussy against her and squealing loudly. Her gorgeous Wanda was a sweaty hot mess. Damn! Wanda was gasping for air, one of her hands grasping her jiggling tits, squeezed it hard and her nipple protruding between her pale knuckles. Wanda giggled, moving her stretched pussy up and down on mommy's cock feeling her climax approaching. Suddenly the sokovian girl stiffened and screamed at the top of her voice as her orgasm peaked.

Natasha moaned as Wanda came, her pussy depths convulsed, gripping and squeezing her cock as wave after wave of tingling pleasure spread through her like a wild fire. Hearing Wanda's pleas and screams were almost too much for Natasha.

"Cum in me! Please!! Please!" Wanda screamed loudly as Natasha grab her nude jiggling ass and thrust more deeper into her. The redhead was almost there. She knew she would not last very long. "Shit! Wanda!" Natasha grunted and her body convulsed in spasms shooting her warm load deep into Wanda's receptive pussy.

Natasha gasped and captured one of Wanda's nipples between her lips and began to suck frantically, her fingers digging into the her ass cheeks. She groaned and her cock squirted time and time again until Wanda thought she was never going to stop, filling her fertile womb with her white semen.

She sucked Wanda's tits one at a time as she blow her load into Wanda's quivering pussy. Suddenly Wanda giggled tiredly and fell on Natasha's chest. Her sweaty body was shaking, the spasms of her well fucked pussy were sending delicious tingles up and down her spine.

Natasha rolled a very tired Wanda off her body. She was amused by the sight before her. Wanda's orgasm had been so powerful that she had fainted with sheer pleasure. Her pretty witch was laying beside her and purring like a cute kitten.

"Did you enjoy that, my little cumslut? Natasha said with a dark smile as she ran her fingers through Wanda's red hair.

"Yes, mommy!" Wanda said breathlessly and spread her shaky legs and show mommy her well fucked pussy. "I enjoyed it a lot! You always take good care of me." Slowly, she eased her hand down and felt her now-sore pussy lips ooze out rivulets of white cum. Wincing at the touch, Wanda pulled up a gooey rope of cum with her fingers and rubbed into across her lips for her tongue to taste. "It taste delicious."

"I can see that, детка." Natasha said with a smile and looked at Wanda's inflamed pussy, her tender slit was open, and leaking a sticky mixture of her own white sperm and pussy juice. "Good girl!" The redhead growled and lowered her face to Wanda's tender pussy and captured a string of cum with her tongue. It tasted good. Well her cum dripping out of Wanda's pussy always tasted good.

Natasha licked her lips as she stared at Wanda's precious naked body, spread out so lewdly before her. Her round sexy tits were firm and swollen and sweaty, rising and falling as she breathed with eyes closed, her cute nipples stiff and erect begging for attention.

Wanda was a goddess her goddess. Natasha looked up into Wanda's green eyes and found pure love there, her heart fluttered at the sight of her girlfriend enjoying the post orgasmic bliss.

Natasha spend long seconds just admiring Wanda's beauty. Her flushed pacific face, her soft red hair, her soft cute smile but suddenly her open reddish pussy attracted her attention. Her delicate folds were inflamed and spread like a flower, her pussy hole was quivering and oozing her white cum.

Natasha didn't say a word she just spread Wanda's weak legs, pushing them back and bending them at the knees until her well fucked juicy pussy was exposed to her eyes and mouth.

"What are you going to do, mommy?." Wanda asked with a sassy smile.

"You'll see, baby." Natasha smirked and lowered her puffy lips and kissed Wanda's sore pussy, licking her own cum from her open slit before slide her tongue into her dilated pussy hole. Wanda giggled loving the warmth of her Natasha's mouth on her sore slit.

Wanda smiled and put a hand on Natasha's nape and began grind her pussy on her face “Mmmmmm, that’s feels good!... eat my pussy, mommy!" Wanda moaned with a dreamy expression on her face, her pretty eyes closed as Natasha lick the tender flesh of her pussy and swallow every last drop of her cum from her pussy.

In Wanda's opinion the motorcycle trip turned out better than expected. She overcame her fear of motorcycles and was rewarded for it.

#natasharedshadow

[sergeantsporks]

Dadrius Week 2024 Day 2: Sewing

Darius blinked. And blinked again. Yellow covered his vision, but with every blink, it slowly faded into the Bat Queen’s forest. He was vaguely aware that he was holding up something heavy, but it wasn’t until he could fully see that he realized what it was.

Hunter.

Darius’ hand wrapped around his throat, and a violent gash tore open his right arm so deep it almost seemed a miracle his arm was still attached at all.

Darius dropped him.

Hunter collapsed to the ground, choking for air and clutching at his wounded arm. Already, purple bruises formed on his neck, and Darius’ stomach heaved at the damage he’d caused. He knelt next to Hunter, reaching out, but not touching him.

“Hunter, I—”

“’s…” Hunter winced at the attempt to speak. “…k…”

“Don’t—don’t talk. Don’t move, let me—”

Darius reached for his magic, willing abomination to take them back to Bonesborough, back to the nearest clinic, but nothing happened.

“Titan—fine—but your arm—” If he had to carry Hunter to the nearest healer then so be it, but if he didn’t stop the bleeding, Hunter wouldn’t survive long enough to get there. Darius reached again for his magic, holding one hand over Hunter’s arm and trying to summon a needle and thread to patch up the wound.

Again, nothing.

Hunter grasped weakly at his pockets, pulling out a tiny sewing kit. Darius recognized it—he’d been the one to give it to him. It was meant for travel, for sewing up loose buttons if the occasion arose while away from home.

Darius took the kit from Hunter’s bloodstained hand, his own hands trembling. It took him three tries to thread the needle, and he took a deep breath.

Steady

He needs you.

It’s just like sewing a rip in your favorite cloak.

But it wasn’t a cloak. It was Hunter, it was flesh and skin, and Hunter’s life depended on him doing this right. Darius took another deep breath, and began. The needle pushed through skin easily, and Darius fell quickly into the rhythm, in and out and in and out, and pulling the thread taut to seal up the wound.

“Darius!”

Steve skidded into the clearing, swinging his motorcycle to the side. “I tried to stop him—I’m sorry, he got away, and—and—” Steve hissed in. “Oh, that’s bad. Hop in.”

The sidecar of his motorcycle expanded to fit its two new passengers, and Darius held Hunter close, pressing the cowl of Hunter’s uniform against the wound and willing the blood to stop seeping through. The ride back to town was long, too long. Darius could see Steve’s foot pressing the gas pedal all the way down, could see how worried he was and how hard he was trying to get them to safety in the clench of his jaw, but part of him wanted to shake the witch and demand they be there this instant.

I should be able to get us there in an instant

I should be able to save him now.

Darius brushed hair out of his face, then froze, grabbing the locs in his hand. Transforming his hair was the easiest of spells for him, so second nature he changed it in the morning without a thought. The warp not working and being unable to use his magic to sew, he could put up to the fight, or the shock. But his hair? That was worrying.

He didn’t have time to think about it, though. Steve screeched to a halt in front of the clinic, and Darius was already out of the side car with Hunter before the vehicle had even completely stopped moving. He shoved open the door, startling the healer on duty. She recovered from the shock admirably quickly, though, and Hunter floated out of Darius’ arms, the healer’s hand already glowing with healing magic while she pulled him along to the back without a word.

Darius started to follow, but Steve’s gloved hand on his arm made him stop.

“Are you safe?” he asked in a low voice, “Is the mind-control over?”

Of course it is, Darius wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t come out of his mouth. “Hunter destroyed the gem,” he said instead.

Steve let go of his arm. “Do you think that was the end of it?”

“No, of course I don’t.” Darius ran a hand through his hair—which was, worryingly, still hair. “Nobody got a good look at the culprit?”

“I was hoping you did.”

Darius shook his head. “Didn’t see much. Just a bright yellow light, and then…” he shuddered. “It felt like the Collector’s magic. Puppet strings.” His bloodstained hand opened and closed helplessly. “I hurt him, I…”

He’d hurt Hunter before, sure, with his words. Titan knew he hadn’t always been the kindest to the young guard. But he’d never, ever laid a hand on him. He’d thought he couldn’t—that he wouldn’t. Had he been mind-controlled? Yes. But still, the line had been crossed. Belos had hurt Hunter like this before—Darius had sworn to himself he never would. And yet here he was, ripping a hole in that promise.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Steve said quietly, “He shouldn’t have even been there—it was completely outside of your control, and he’ll know that. But—do you think it was the Collector?”

“No, no. It was like the Collector’s magic, but… separate. Like an imitation. And it needed that gem; the Collector didn't.”

“Hm.” Steve tapped his chin. “I’m going back to the woods—see if I can find a trail, or any clue who was responsible. You going to be alright?”

“I’ll be fine. Go.”

Steve left, and Darius dropped into a waiting chair with a sigh. His hands twitched; he couldn’t quite shake the feeling of squeezing the life out of his ward, the crushing grip that would have killed Hunter if he’d been freed an instant later.

“Sir? Are you his guardian?”

Darius lurched to his feet. “That was fast.” Already, about ten different reasons that could be a bad thing had run through his head. Hunter was already dead. They couldn’t heal him because of residue magic. They’d somehow figured out Darius was the one to injure him and they were only keeping him busy until someone bigger could come drag him away from Hunter forever.

“Yes. Well.” The healer—Amy, her nametag proclaimed—nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “We’ve run into a problem. Nothing life-threatening!” she assured him quickly, “He’ll recover. It’s just… well, are you aware how healing magic works?”

“You draw the circle. It heals. And yes,” he added as an afterthought, “I am his guardian.” Technically speaking, he wasn’t Hunter’s only guardian, but he was for school days, and he was the one here right now, which was close enough.

“Yes, yes, but there’s limits. It uses my magical energy to keep the healing process going, speeding up the body’s natural progress. But it still needs the resources and energy of the body I’m healing to complete the process.” Amy chuckled nervously. “It’s the terrible catch of healing magic, that the more you need the magic to heal someone, the less you’re able to do.”

“What are you saying?”

“It was a deep wound,” she said quietly, “The abomination that cut him nearly nicked bone.”

Was that accusation in her voice? Had she figured it out, the ex-leader of the abomination coven bringing Hunter in with an injury made by an abomination—surely she was suspicious. Darius wondered blankly how he could possibly explain; word of a new power capable of puppeteering people couldn’t get out right now, but what was he supposed to say that wouldn’t result in more suspicion?

Although, who is there higher up than Steve and I that would be able to investigate anyway?

The thought did not make him feel better. Did Hunter ever think about that? Did he ever shudder, realizing that if Darius turned on him the way Belos had, if he and all Hunter’s other guardians worked together, there would be nowhere for him to run and no hope of rescue?

Titan, he must have felt so trapped in the coven.

“I’ve staunched the bleeding and knitted some of the muscle back together,” Amy continued, apparently unaware of his crisis, “but he’s far from done. He’ll need several more sessions before he’s completely back up to speed, and they’ll have to be spaced out. You did a wonderful job stitching the wound up, but he still lost a lot of blood.”

Darius’ worry sank into a numb kind of clarity. “What can I do?”

“Iron and protein-rich foods. Make sure he stays very well hydrated. Steer clear of any stimulants—energy potions and the type. He’ll be tempted, because he’s going to be exhausted, but it’s not good for him. I’ll prescribe some blood-replenisher potions. Bring him back in… two days? Three, if he still seems too peaky and worn. He should avoid moving the arm as much as possible, of course. I’ve got it in a sling for now. You shouldn’t have to worry about changing the dressing, since he’ll be coming back soon, but if the area seems swollen, or you notice any… smells… bring him back as soon as possible.”

Amy took a deep breath. “I think that’s about it. I’ll have all the instructions written out for you with your prescription and a list of foods, so don’t worry about trying to remember all of that. And I’ll set up your next appointment now, okay?”

“Okay,” Darius replied numbly.

Amy disappeared into the back again, returning a few minutes later with a few sheets of paper, and Hunter in tow. He looked… well, not better. If someone told Darius that among the other injuries, Hunter had gotten two black eyes, he wouldn’t have doubted it. But he was awake, and walking, if with Amy’s support. The cowl of his school uniform had been removed completely; he looked smaller without the drapery breaking up the shape of his body.

She offered Hunter to him, and Darius reached out, but flinched away when he saw the blood on his hands again.

“You did a good job,” Amy told him in a low voice, “You saved his life.”

She wouldn’t say that if she knew what he’d done. But still, Darius reached for Hunter again, letting him cling to his arm. He took the papers as well, and headed slowly, ever-so-slowly and carefully towards the door.

Eber was already waiting outside. Instead of his usual ratworms, a flat-backed Slither lurked behind him.

“Steve called,” Eber signed, “Said you needed help.”

“Remind me to thank him later,” Darius said wearily. He helped Hunter onto the wide, flat back of the slither, sitting on it with him. Eber took off—gently, thankfully—and Darius heaved a sigh. “Are you… well, I suppose you’re not okay.”

“Not… great…” Hunter rasped, then reached up with a wince to hold his neck.

Another pang of guilt tugged at Darius. Of course if Amy hadn’t been able to heal the great big gaping wound, she’d probably deemed the bruises a lesser problem. Still, even the slightest head movement seemed to be painful, and Darius wondered dully if it hurt him even to breathe.

“I’d like to say something. And I don’t need a response from you, because I know speaking is difficult right now, so please, just listen.” Darius took a deep breath. “We don’t know who attached that gem to me, or what they wanted, but I don’t know how long I would have been under their control if it hadn’t been for you. You saved me, and you may have saved others as well. So… thank you. I cannot express how glad I am that you broke the spell.”

He lowered his gaze to look Hunter directly in the eye. “With that being said, you should not have been there. You should have been at school. You should not have been in harm’s way. You should not have gotten hurt. You may have saved others—and you certainly saved me—but it could have cost you your life. It did cost you a significant amount of blood and the next few days of school.”

Hunter opened his mouth, a mutinous, stubborn look scrawled on his face, but stopped before he could argue, wincing again.

Darius brushed aside the guilt, steeling his nerves. “I am happy that I am no longer mind-controlled. But I am still very cross at you.”

Hunter looked away with a sigh, staring off the side of the slither.

Was I too hard on him?

Darius suspected Camila was much better at parenting than he was—which was fair, since she’d already raised one since birth. But still, he found himself comparing his words to what she would have done. Would she have waited until after recovery before lecturing? Would she have worded it better? Certainly she’d be able to take care of him better, since she had a medical background, albeit with animals.

The slither came to a stop and Eber waved Darius up to the front.

“You did not do a good job telling him you’d rather have mauled ten others than hurt your own fledgling.”

“Well, I wasn’t trying to say that,” Darius told him sharply. Logically, Hunter had been one of the best options to find him. He was combat trained, and his quick eye had picked out and solved the problem much quicker than most could.

That didn’t mean Eber was completely wrong, though.

Darius lifted Hunter off the flatworm, but let him walk into the house on his own two feet, with help. Every second seemed to improve his color just a little more, but… Darius eyed the stairs critically.

“I think the downstairs guest bedroom for now,” he told Hunter, “If you can make a list of things you’d like me to bring from your room, I’ll retrieve them, but I don’t think going up and down the stairs repeatedly is a wise idea at the moment.”

Hunter nodded, and Darius left him in the guest bedroom, traipsing upstairs to gather things he already knew Hunter might need or want. The massive wolf plushie he’d won from a carnival in the human realm. Extra pillows. The book that was already on the nightstand, his pajamas, and his reading glasses.

Hunter had already fallen asleep, curled into a little ball on the guestroom bed, so Darius quietly left his things at the foot of the bed, and left. He paced around the downstairs a few times, noted Hunter’s Hexside cowl where Eber must have tossed it on the couch, and paced around a few more times.

Find anything?

He sent the message to Steve, and picked up Hunter’s cowl. He could fix the rip, at least. He hummed to himself, carrying it to his sewing room and roving over dozens of spools of thread before picking out two. Both were just a shade off from the color of the cowl—not noticeable, really, but he still debated between the two of them for a few minutes before finally picking the one a shade darker—hopefully it would fade into the same color—and starting.

Without his abomination magic, sewing was slow work. In on one side of the cowl, out on the other. Small, neat stitches to make sure it stayed invisible. Back and forth. The repetitive movement was soothing, and Darius let his frazzled mind slip into the routine.

Back and forth.

If only relationships could be fixed so easily.

Back and forth.

Hunter wouldn’t say it, but there was no way he’d be able to look at Darius the same way again after this.

Back and forth.

He’d hurt him. Badly. The next scar had Darius’ name on it.

Darius came to the end of the rip and secured the thread, snipping it neatly and putting everything back.

There. Good as new.

He folded the cowl up neatly, pushing open Hunter’s door soundlessly and setting it with the other things he’d brought.

Despite what he’d gone through, Hunter’s sleep looked peaceful. Darius wondered idly if the exhaustion from blood loss had anything to do with that. But still, he looked so small, curled up. So vulnerable. Darius’ hand twitched.

It would be so easy to snap the interfering brat’s neck right now and keep him from meddling ever again.

Darius snapped up, stumbling backwards away from Hunter before he could do anything else. He closed the door much harder than he normally would, and leaned against it, heart thumping in his chest. Those words—it hadn’t sounded like him. He wouldn’t do that, he couldn’t think that. Especially not today, after everything.

But more worryingly, it hadn’t exactly sounded like anyone else, either.