#Nightmare is just slurping on that discomfort
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
boneheadboner · 5 months ago
Text
Killer: BOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
Nightmare: Killer, you know damn well not to disturb me at 2pm. What the fuck is it.
Killer: The new Horror you got is freaking me the fuck out, man!
Nightmare: really.
Killer: Not only does he suck at cooking, but he keeps doing gross shit with his face!
Nightmare: ... And this is my problem, how?
Killer: It'd be funny if he wasn't doing it AT me, and it's just fucking WEIRD.
Nightmare: ... [calling out] DIRGE.
Dirge: [scampers in] YES NIGHTDADDY?
Nightmare: .... Are you making Killer uncomfortable?
Dirge: WHAT? NOOOooooo. Dirge are just doing fun things! Killy are too squeamish!
Killer: That shit's fucking nasty-- how the hell do you even DO that?!
Dirge: Dirge no tell, it are secrety secrets.
Nightmare: Enough. Show me what you've been doing.
Dirge: 'kayyyyy~. [Proceeds to stick his tongue up his nose, making a deep snorting noise. He then pokes it out of his left eyesocket, curling it into the hole on his head, and sticking it back out his right eyesocket.]
Nightmare: [Blank look]
Killer: Eeuugghh what the FUCK dude!! There are WAY better things to do with a tongue that long!
Dirge: [Winks his right eyesocket closed, and somehow raspberries Killer out of his right eyesocket]
Killer: STOP
Dirge: [trying to talk with his tongue sticking all through his face] Gnyahahah, sihheh kihhley, soh skeeemish.
Nightmare: .... Dirge?
Dirge: Yehhh Niiihhdahhhy?
Nightmare: ... The next time you're on a mission, and my brother comes to stop you? Absolutely perform that gesture of mockery.
Killer: .... OK THAT I'M GOOD WITH.
Dirge: [sucks his tongue back through, loudly slurping as he does]
Killer: [SHUDDERING]
Dirge: YAYYYYY! Nightdaddy approve of Dirge sillies, uwus!!!
Killer: ...
Nightmare: ... And by all means? Keep inventing new ways to be disgusting.
Dirge: Oh! OH! ENCOURAGEMENT! [Puts his hands on his cheekbones] BLUSHES UWUS~.
Killer: WHO SAYS THAT SHIT OUTLOUD??
Dirge: Dirge do? DUHHHH.
6 notes · View notes
yandere-sins · 3 months ago
Text
Yan-Poll #26
"Back off, bloodsucker, they're mine!"
You wanted to protest, but your words were cut off by squeals of pain as the monster's claws buried in your hair. You reached up, digging your meager nails into the fur-covered paws of the werewolf. They were no threat to the beast, yet you drove them as deeply as possible into his flesh in the hopes he'd let go.
How could it have come to this, you wondered, tears brimming in your eyes as you recalled the last few weeks. First, your long-term partner left you, so your friends suggested this trip to an old camping ground near a "haunted" mansion to get the edge off. And then you had been the only one who didn't hear how people fled the scene while you were knocked out from exhaustion, putting you into this situation.
You glanced over to the other figure that stood in the courtyard serving as camping grounds with you. Their paled skin shone in the moonlight, almost glistening, but the sight of their fangs protruding from their lips as they grinned, catching your eyes on them, made your neck ache, the blood slowly drying up from where they had bitten you in your sleep.
This other nightmare, a werewolf, had come just in time to pry them off you, and you awoke to the scuffle, realizing you were the last human left. But when you tried to run, the wolf had come after you, catching up and bringing you down to your knees with his overwhelming strength.
"And you are being so rough with them like a true monster. Look, they are already crying."
Waving their hand at you, the vampire pointed out your obvious discomfort, and the werewolf's eyes fell down, tearing away from his arch-nemesis and meeting yours briefly. You whimpered as they reflexively tightened their grip as they watched you cry. You wanted to take this chance, but the pain briefly robbed you of your senses before you could speak.
"P-Please," you whimpered. "Please just let me go..."
The werewolf growled lightly in discontent, getting down on one knee next to you. His hand fell from your hair to your back, brushing over it comfortingly, and you sobbed as the pain of being released hit you. You didn't feel soothed with the werewolf's claws repeatedly getting stuck on your clothes, chipping away at your only defense barrier.
"I didn't know... I'm so sorry for trespassing!"
Honestly, no one could have known this forest was the home of monsters. It still felt like a prank rather than reality. But it hurt even more, knowing your friends would leave you behind to fend for yourself like this. What good arguments did you have to make them keep you alive? How could you convince them to let you go?
"How about..." the vampire mused out loud, avoiding their eyes for just a moment to think. But when they looked back, you felt intimidated by their gaze, the deep red shining through even the darkness piercing into you. "We let them decide who to go with?"
A menacing smile crept over their lips, and you hugged yourself to shy away from the threat in their stare. Choosing between them? That seemed like a bad idea, almost as much as not choosing and letting them battle it out...
"You can choose the wolf and be dragged to his cave, where he'll tear you to shreds while he rampages every night. And the breeding season is near. If you make it that far, I'm not sure you'll survive that massacre."
"Or you stay with the bloodsucker," the werewolf growled, glaring at the vampire. "You won't even last one day before they empty you of your blood and life. Might wine and dine you first so you are proper lamb to slaughter, but your "friends" won't even recognize your body when they're done slurping your blood after hours of struggling and crying."
Gulping, you recognized the exaggeration in their words. Their dislike for each other was obvious, but from what you knew about these creatures, you didn't doubt the seriousness of their accusations. Accidentally or not, the werewolf was likely to hurt you—one way or another. It could last a lifetime unless you managed to escape, while your days were numbered with the vampire. They wouldn't keep you for as long as you could supply them with blood, would they? Even if they didn't do it that very night, you'd live in fear until they decided it was time, only for the torture to continue until your last breath.
You wanted neither.
You wanted to live.
This trip was not supposed to be your last one, and you wanted to continue living, no matter what. But how? How could you convince them? Convince them to keep you around at least long enough to try and escape. You thought long and hard. The werewolf's tail was like a whip, impatiently hitting the ground. But neither he nor the ever-smiling vampire, knowing he had all the time in the world, interrupted you, this challenge going beyond the worth of your life. It was a battle of dominance, one they both wanted to win. They wanted to be chosen by you, to have all the rights to you.
Thus, you thought, wrecking your head around the possibilities before you chose wrong.
175 notes · View notes
somanyratsinthewalls · 10 months ago
Note
Your robin and franky fic was chefs kiss but would you be willing to write some solo franky?? Im really into water 7 franky and would love to see what you’d come up with !!
Tumblr media
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING FOR THIS! YALL I promise you any time anyone requests a Franky fic I WILL BE WRITING THAT SHIT. This is my dream man and no one gives me enough opportunities to write for him! So, I'm sorry I turned this into a smutty nightmare if you wanted fluff... I just need to service the Fellow Franky Fuckers out there.
Pairing: (pre timeskip) Cyborg Franky x Fem!Reader
WC: 2800
Taglist: @generaldaij0bu you might need to see this
Summary: The Sunny malfunctioning is driving you up a wall. You make a request for repairs and end up getting way more than you bargained for in the workshop.
TWs: ROBO-BONING, BABES! P in V sex, unprotected sex (pls don't) sex toy use, forced orgasm, safe words, light bdsm, communication is key and Franky respects it so hard and he's so hot for it, very much dirty talk...
Too Hot (+18)
— — 
It was hot. 
The sun beat down on the Sunny all day and the unwavering heat was barely dispelled after sunset due to the humidity. You lay sprawled on the deck next to Usopp and Chopper, groaning in the unbearable heat. 
“I think I’ll die here…” Chopper groans with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. 
“I can’t believe I’m going to burn to death after all the horrible monster’s I’ve fought… it’s not fair!” Usopp moans and wipes his brow. 
“Just throw me overboard at this point.” You sigh. 
“But don’t you have devil fruit-“
“I DON’T CARE THROW ME OVER!” You screech at Usopp. 
Before you could murder the cowardly sniped in a fit of heat-induced rage, Sanji steps through the door to the deck from the galley. 
“Okay everyone, dinner’s on. Air con works fine in here.” Sanji calls from the doorway. 
You push Usopp and Chopper behind you as you spring to your feet and sprint towards the galley. 
After entering the swinging door, the cool air hits you like stepping through a cascading waterfall. You sigh in relief. Your bliss was furthered when you see bowls of cool gazpacho at each place setting on the dining room table. 
“Thank gods…” You grumble as you hop onto the bench and start eating. The cold soup alleviated your discomfort from the inside out and you couldn’t help but groan in content. 
“Relax, it’s just soup.” Zoro puts his bowl down next to you and gives you a concerned look. 
“Oh I’m sorry swords-for-brains, did you not notice it’s a billion and five degrees outside?” You scowl at the swordsman seated next to you at the table. 
“Who cares?! This soup is great!” Luffy chimes in and extends his rubbery arms to grab every bowl that wasn’t licked clean and shovels them down his gullet. 
You sigh. 
“Nami please tell me this heat wave will be over soon. I’m getting crows feet ON my crows feet from this sun.” You turn towards your friend and navigator. 
“I wish I had better news but it’ll be at least a few more days before there’s any relief in temperature. We’re just going to have to stay in the shade and inside where the air is working. You’re tough, y/n, you can handle it.” Nami states as she sips from her bowl of cold soup. 
You roll your eyes. 
The dishes were promptly slurped clean by your captain and Sanji cleared the table. The blaring rays of the sun had exhausted so you so you decided to take a shower and head to bed. 
After taking a cool shower, you throw on a t shirt and shorts over your panties and sports bra and lay on top of the covers of your bed. 
“Gods it’s almost like it’s hotter in here than it is out there!” You say to yourself as you lay in bed, sweat soaking through your pillow. You decide to hop up and check if the air conditioning was working. You walk over to the vent in the corner of your room and press your hands against it. HOT air was spewing out from the grate in your room. You walk backwards and fall back onto the bed. 
“Fuck.” You throw your shirt over your head and slip your shorts off and flop back onto the bed. Sweat drips from your chin down your neck to your chest. 
*whoooosh*
Hot air was being pushed out harsher and faster through the grate in the corner of your room. The temperature continued to rise and your sweat soaked through your top sheet. 
“I’m not living like this!” You shout in frustration as you push your way out of your room, without bothering to throw your clothes back on. You head down into the belly of the ship in your underwear. Upon reaching the door you were looking for, you slam it open without knocking.
“FRANKY!!!!!” You yell angrily. 
“Jeez, y/n where’s the fire? I could have been naked in here!” Franky pushes his sunglasses back on his head as he turns towards you from his work bench. 
“You’re always naked!!! Also, more importantly, why is the HEAT ON in my bedroom?! Are you trying to cook me like a rotisserie chicken?!” You pant out, still very sweaty. 
“Oh that’s no good… I’ll have to go check the generators.” Franky rises to his feet, towering over you. “Sorry you were so uncomfortable, little lady. I’ll get this sorted out super quickly. Why don’t you get some shut eye in my bed for awhile? It’s still nice and cool down here.” He gestures to his bed in the corner of the room while he grabs his toolbox. 
You sigh. 
“Honestly that would be great, I feel like I’ve been in an oven all day.” You walk over to Franky’s bed and flop down on your back. Being this deep in the ship, there were no windows on the walls, but you were so sweaty and tired you didn’t care. 
“Alright well I’m gonna go fix this for ya, try and get some rest. Your room will be back to super condition in no time!” Franky leaves and you settle into the pillows and close your eyes. The sweat covering your body began to dry and you were finally comfortable again. You find yourself relaxing into Franky’s bed, smelling slightly of cola and motor oil, and drifting off into a light sleep. 
You wake up to the door of the bedroom closing and you snap your head up. 
“Woah, what do we have here?” You hear Franky’s booming voice as you rub the brief sleep from your eyes. It must have still been late at night. 
“Some dream ya must have been having, huh?” Franky stands above the bed and nods towards your spread thighs. You look down at where he was gesturing and notice a huge soaked patch in your pink panties. It was at this moment you notice the wanton ache in your core and abdomen… you must have been having a very wet dream and were awoken before you got to the good part. You instinctively slam your thighs shut in embarrassment and cover your face with your hands. 
“Look at you, so shy but dripping all over my sheets?” Franky continues with a smile, noticing your bashfulness. 
“I-I’m sorry I-“ You stutter and try to explain yourself. 
“It’s okay sweet thing! It’s totally normal. Looks like you’re pretty pent up, huh? I can fix that for ya, if you’re interested.” 
“I.. I mean that would be nice I guess…” You pull your hands away from your face hesitantly. 
“Aaaoooww!! That’s what I wanted to hear! Let’s get started then!” Franky grins and leans down to grab something from underneath his bed. He retrieves a large metal box and pops open the lid. 
“Hmmm let’s see… Some of these… definitely this…” Your robot whispers to himself as he roots around in the large chest. He rises and brings a pile of items out and flops them onto the bed. These were things you’ve never seen before, so your eyes were darting from chain to leather to silicone you had no idea what to focus on. 
“Take that bra off for me baby, I wanna ask ya some things before we get started.” Franky grabs the hem of your panties and gently tugs them down your legs.
You did as you were told and unclasped your bra, tossing it to the side and leaning back again. Franky softly sets your panties down on his bedside table and remarks, 
“I’m keepin’ these.” 
Your body shudders when you hear the sinister tone in his voice.
“Ok doll, now tell me…” Franky traces his hands up and down your thighs, parting them in the process. “How do you like it? I can edge you for an hour or so… or you could cum until you cry… any preference?” Frankly asks casually as he organizes the objects he had turned over onto the bed. 
“I, um…” You were young, not a virgin but not very experienced. This man was almost 10 years older than you, how were you supposed to know what you wanted from him?
“I… I wanna cum… I think…” You eventually squeak out. 
“Ok babydoll, good choice. Can ya promise me you’ll say ‘red’ if you want to stop?” Franky cups your jaw and makes sure you’re looking into his eyes above you. You nod. “No no, tell me you will.”
“I will say it, I’ll say red. I can do it.” You breath out, so ready for him to please you already. You rub your thighs together. 
“And you’ll tell me if there’s anything ya don’t like, hm?”
“Yes of course I promise!” You groan out, impatient to feel Franky’s touch on your skin. 
“Super! I’m going to put you in a spreader bar now, sweet cheeks, so you can’t close your legs on me. It’ll just go around your legs like this…” Franky explains to you methodically as he straps your legs into the homemade device. You tentatively try to close your thighs to see how effective the bar was… and it certainly did its job. 
“OK and these are gonna squeeze your nipples, just like this…” Franky gently attaches the nipple clamps onto your sensitive buds. 
“Oh!!” You cry out as he tightens the screws on them. Franky pulls back and admires his handiwork. You were laid out on his bed, metal clasps squeezing your nipples, causing you to writhe against the spreader bar forcefully separating your legs. 
“Fucking perfect. If you want I can gag you, too…” Franky approaches you with a ball gag in hand. 
“Wait, no. I don’t want that.” You state clearly, even through your lust filled haze. Franky grins down at you. 
“Gods, you’re so fucking hot when you tell me what you want baby. Good idea sweetie, that way everyone can hear how good I’m gonna make you feel.” Franky squeezes your breast, eliciting a whine from your lips. He moves to grab something from the foot of the bed. It a large long, black, wand like device. 
“Spread them for me, I wanna see that cute little pussy.” Franky grabbed one of your knees and pushed it open. 
“I didn’t shave…” You try to cover your face with your arm so you didn’t have to see Franky’s eyes on your most intimate bits. 
“Good! Smells much better like this…” He takes a deep inhale. 
“Fuck,” You sigh out. “You really are a fucking pervert- OH!” The device Franky was pressing against your sex suddenly sprung to life and vibrated against your clit. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced in your life and your stomach tenses immediately. 
“Wait- fuck, Franky! Wait holy shit, wait- ah!” You scream as your orgasm sneaks up on you and takes you out like an assassin. You legs give out and flop against the bed. Franky removes the toy and cups your sex with his free hand. He feels your hole still gently pulsing against his palm.
“Oh poor baby, ya really are wound tight…” Franky coos down at you from your side. “We’re gonna need a lot more of those before you’re ready for me..” He removes his hand and returns the vibrator to your sex. You cry out as he drags it through your wet folds at the lowest intensity. He eventually keeps it at your clit and increases the vibrations. 
You squirm and moan. 
“Hey,” Franky scolds as he pulls on the chain between your nipple clamps, causing you to moan louder. “Don’t fight it, doll face… just cum, I know you’re there again…” He presses the device harder into your flesh and you crash over the edge again. This time it was even more intense, spasms continuing long after the euphoria ended. 
“Franky… It’s so much…” You whine as he leaves the vibrator pressed against your sex even after you’ve cum for a second time. 
“You can take it. I know you can. You know what to say to get me to stop…” Franky meets your gaze and raises an eyebrow. 
You pull your thighs closed to escape the sensation but the bar prevents you from doing so. 
“Come on baby, one more like this, I know you can…” Franky increases the speed of the vibrator. 
“Shit! I can’t!” You arch your back away from the stimulation. 
“Then say it, sweetheart.” Franky increases the speed again. 
“Fuck! I’m- I’m cumming!” You cry out and violently lurch forward on the bed. You grab Franky’s forearm and sob in pleasure. You hear the buzzing of the machine stop and your spasms start to slow down. 
“Think you can take me now, sweet thing?” You are broken from your post orgasm trance by your cyborg lover slipping off the only piece of clothing he had on, his red swim briefs. 
“Mmmhmmm….” You seductively whisper as you roll onto your stomach and push you ass backwards with your knees, exposing your puffy, red wet hole to him. 
“So ready for me, what a good girl.” Franky coos as he strokes down your back bone. “I’m gonna fuck you now, take a deep breath…” 
“SHIT!” You cry out as Franky’s enormous cockhead breaches your hole. You were wildly wet and open after 3 orgasms, but his sheer size was causing your insides to stretch beyond compare. 
“Its- ah” *sniff* *hiccup* “It’s so big, Frank! Ah!” *sniff* 
“I know sweetheart, it’s a lot at first, but you gotta relax and let me fuck you. You gotta open up more baby..” Franky leans forward and places kisses on your shoulder blades. He feels you lessen your grip around him and he pushes in further. “Gooood girl… stretching so nice for me…” He finally pulls back out and shoves himself into you again. 
“Oh!” You cry out in surprise. You continue to yelp helplessly as your powerful cyborg lover drilled into you from behind. 
“Yes there it is mama, cum on this dick. Feels good, huh?” Franky has the audacity to laugh as he hammers into your G-spot. 
You were involuntarily pushed over the edge and sent screaming into yet another orgasm. You sob and Franky uses his massive strength to flip you over onto your back. He enters you again and you moan out in overstimulation. 
“Come on, one more doll, bet you can squirt on me…” Franky thrusts into you from above, holding your hips into his at the perfect angle to hit your spot. 
“No, I- I can’t” You pant out breathlessly, knowing this is something you aren’t capable of. 
“Yes you can baby, come on just try it for me.” Franky pulls back and places one hand on your stomach and the other on your clit. He begins to rub circles into your sensitive nub and applies deep pressure to your lower abdomen, all while thrusting deeply into you with his cock. You snap for the nth time that evening and tears spill from your lash line as your hips spasm in pleasure. You feel different, like some sort of physical release in your bottom half deeper than the normal climax. You look up after catching your breath and see that your fluids had soaked both the bed and your lover’s abdomen and thighs. 
“Hnnnnhhhh” You whine and weep in overestimation. “It’s too much, Frank, please!” You cry out and claw at your cyborg’s back. 
“Almost there mama, take it for me…” Franky rasps into your ear as he reaches his own climax, huge cock buried deep against your cervix. The loudest moan you’ve ever heard reaches your ears and you toss your head back into the pillows. The both of your whine as Franky carefully removes himself from your body. 
You lay there in a daze and didn’t even notice that your lover had left until he returned with a warm towel to dab at your swollen, messy sex. You twitch involuntarily as he cleans your sensitive bits. He unlocks your legs from their hold in the bar and gently pulls the clamps off your nipples, soothing them with the wet cloth.
“You room should be cooled off by now, glad I could occupy your time until the repairs kicked in.” Franky helps you snap your bra back on behind your back. 
“Thanks for the help, and thanks for the distraction.” You reach up and grip Franky’s jaw to kiss it. You slide off the bed bend down to grab something. You hold the worn red pair of swim briefs up to your face. 
“I’m keepin’ these.” You giggle and bolt out of the room with Franky’s bikini. 
“HEY! Those are my only red ones! This is not very super of you!”
Xx 
252 notes · View notes
yanderenightmare · 4 years ago
Note
dude I would kill for more DADDY DEKU, the last one gave me liffff, maybe like... "embarrassed to ask".... some anal?? plez and thank you Mizz Nightmare <3 I love all your work!
yandere dom ! MIDORIYA IZUKU
TIP-JAR
goodiebag WARNINGS: condescension, degradation, coercion, profanity, abuse, DUBCON/NONCON, yandere, manipulation, suggestive language, slight infantilization
BUNNYHOLE
She’d started to lose track of how much time passed during their session, forgotten what she’d done to get in the position she was in, forgotten what it was Deku felt the need to remind her of. Too much blood rushing to her head in her position of kneeling over his chest, her ass arched up and her face pushed down, cheek resting on his pelvis, running her tongue up and down the length of his cock nuzzling in her small palm, lips locked and sucking on the pulsating veins bulging from his erection. Or perhaps it was her way of forgetting where she was, her way of escaping, becoming numb to spare herself the humiliation, the frustration, the hopelessness and desperation of being subjugated, of being taken against her will, where becoming mindless was her only option when being in the hands of the madman.
Deku’s larger than life hands held onto her hips, held her in place, stroking the dome of her ass affectionately yet wantonly every now and again as his mouth swallowed down on the juices starting to spill drizzly down her thighs. Fat fingers, lined with muscle, coming to delve ghostly over her folds, with his tongue prodding at her entrance. She’d managed to block most of his praising and coos out of mind, focusing on coming, yet now… having lost count of how many times she’d done so on his experience dedicated tongue, with her oversensitivity blaring and buzzing in her lower abdomen, gnarling and crying for it to stop, it was getting harder by the minute to forget where she was and who she was with when he was still so very intent on lapping at her sensitive heat with his thick tongue again and again and again.
And he knew it.
“Such a good Bunny.” He cooed, slurping at her opening, the stiff pinching scratching of the beard on his chin an extra factor of teasing friction on the lips of her pussy, the action sending vibrations to simmer through her and a moan to spur from where she was nuzzling on the hill of his hairy thigh, her mouth guzzling down on one of his balls, letting go with a wet pop to allow the noise to leave her throat unstrained. “Getting so wet for her Daddy.” 
His sloppy tongue continuously licked up the ravine presented to him, making its way farther up than usual, playing with the other unused, and preferably so, tight hole.
She made a jump, hopping further down on his lap, face buried in his ball-sack, yet was quickly pulled back by the strong hands on her hips, cheek thoroughly smeared with a glistening mix of saliva and precum and tears.
As though understating yet not caring about her distress, his hands comforted by messaging circles on her ass-cheeks, perhaps in an effort to keep her at bay as well. “Just play with Daddy’s cock while he plays with your cute little butt, okay Bunny?” She’d gotten so very used to instructions, so used to bending her own will. 
His tongue found its way back to prodding at the tight hole, pummeling his fatness inside, seemingly trying to pry her open. “But, Daddy-” She tried, still in an effort to scramble away from his ongoing attack.
He would not have her disobedience, that time had passed long ago. His fingers starting to carve their presence into her midriff, stifling her attempt of escape. “Play with Daddy’s cock, just like I taught you.” He was firm in his demand this time, yet the same whine of condescension, of whiny patronizing correction, was still so disgustingly present in his tone. The voice that made her want to rip her hair out and strangle him with it. 
Yet, she obeyed. Mouth proceeding to slobber over his massive cock, suckling on every inch of his girth, licking paths over every enhanced vein, making him groan and buck his hips into her face, letting her head disappear between his strong thighs, massive thighs that could snap her neck if she made the wrong move. 
“Good little Bunny.” He drawled before he too continued. 
Mewls and adorable small whines escaping her focus on pleasing his cock, as his tongue crammed into the tight space of her butthole. More tears gathered at her eye-sockets, falling onto his cock, making her taste her own despair on her tongue gargling on his balls. 
“Bunny’s so hungry… sucking on Daddy’s balls like candy-apples.” She felt like gagging, not out of reflex, but out of disgust and wholehearted cringe for his words, but wasn’t given much space to feel anything but anxiety for too long, what with his thumbs making to spread her ass-cheeks further apart. He was happy to see she stayed in place, yet not surprised as the marks on her hips were already blooming with defined raw redness, evidence of just how intolerable hesitation and especially disobeying hesitation was in his cruel eyes. “Good girl.” He praised, hammering the thickness of his tongue inside her tight ass, now with the new easy access.
One hand shifted from its position of spreading her ass, pointer running over the budding hole curiously. 
She felt her guts churn at the act, fear riding her body full with goosebumps. “Daddy?” She squeaked uncertainly, sucking in a breath, relenting from her sloppy activity between his legs, fingers curling into the bedsheets in a manner of bracing herself.
“You’ve such a pretty little butt.” He stated, where the amount of adoration was terrifyingly present in his calm and collected voice. 
His finger quit its tormenting haunting and she sighed a relieved sigh, wet slicked face falling back onto his glistening manhood, tongue making to lick up his girth yet again. 
“Does Bunny want one of Daddy’s fingers inside?” Her fear rushed back, causing her to go all light-headed while his tongue lapped at the bud again, wriggling over the ring of muscle, drawing circles on it, ignoring her growing anxiousness fully. “Hmm, I bet Bunny would love Daddy’s finger inside her little butt.” She’d gotten used to his suggestive language, knowing what was best for her, but still she couldn’t help but way her options, even though deep down knowing how if Deku wanted something from her pliable little body, he was sure to get it no matter the struggle and fight she put up. “Filling her up-” His musings were cut off, the little girl on top of him fighting ever so slightly to move further away from his antagonizing mouth, pleading with her face shoved into his cock.
“No, Daddy please, I don’t-” He didn’t like that, holding her back with his harsh grip, keeping her ass well arched and presented for him to ravage.
“To me it sounds like Bunny is begging to be punished.” He warned, still playing his games, still with his disgusting tone masking the true sentiment of his words. “Do you want Daddy to punish you, Bunny?” One hand stroked over the plump flesh of her ass, threatening to strike the unprotected skin again and again until she complied with his wishes. She knew from experience she didn't  handle the pain well, always folding.
She backed down, better now than later with blooming bruises and a discomfort to sit for a week. “No, Daddy please, I’m sorry, I’ll behave.” She scurried back, scared into position, promptly sloshing over his cock with newfound devotion, moaning happily with his precum smeared on her face, anything to spare her from what cold hell he would show her if she didn’t.
He smiled, kissing the doughy flesh of her ass-cheek, welcoming her back. “Well then… tell Daddy how much you’d love his finger in your butt.” Hand returning. “Come on, don’t be shy.” Stroking over the bud of firm flesh, letting her feel the size of his fat finger, begging her to disobey him, begging her to cry and plead or to sob and force herself to obey his commands.
She chose the latter, knowing what other harsh torture awaited her was she not to comply like a good little girl. “Please, Daddy, please finger my ass.” He hummed contently in response, poking the hole ever so slightly, his fingertip sliding in the wetness of his drool. “I want your finger in my ass so badly, Daddy.” She whined, just like she knew he liked, wiggling her ass at him impatiently like the entitled brat he wanted her to be only for him to correct and humiliate.
“Bunny wants a finger up her little butt?” He spoke hurriedly in the spiked frenzied rush of her words, having them slur in drool as he kissed the hole sloppily, lightly biting the flesh of her one ass-cheek, again to scare her into playing the game.
“Yes please, Daddy.” She suckled on his girth desperately, letting false moans pass her lips as though she couldn’t get enough of his cock choking her throat. Playing the game, playing her part, surviving.
“This little butt right here?” He questioned, tongue flicking over the hole.
“Yes, Daddy please!” She started grinding her hips back into his mouth, knowing her enthusiasm is what his anticipation beckoned.
“Well, if you’re a good Bunny and play with Daddy’s cock then I’ll give this butt what it needs.” He needed her devotion, he needed her to understand just how under his thumb she was, he needed his ego satiated, his cruel sinister sadism fed.
“Thank you, Daddy…” She sobbed, fearing while knowing what he’d do if she were to disobey, resulting to dragging her tongue up and down his cock, hands working the base as she sucked, head bobbing up and down as she made cute little glugging sounds that had his stomach fluttering in utter bliss. “I love your cock, Daddy.” So sweet, just like he trained her.
He hummed at how precious she was, feeling somewhat proud of himself for having brought that out of her. “What do you love about it, Bunny?” His words pushed, but it wasn’t the only thing that was tormenting her. His tongue, burning and wet and forceful, dug into her backside, worming its way into her little hole as she tried her best, fighting with every nerve of her being, fear motivating her to stay perfectly still, though not managing to stifle the whimper.
Her breaths were shaky as she spoke to answer him before he grew impatient. “Daddy’s cock is so perfect and big, feels so good inside me.” He didn’t seem to care that she spoke with a cry in her voice.
His hand, having had rested on her ass as a warning, swung under, calloused textured rough fingers rubbed the bead of her clit, making her moan through her cries onto his cock. She was happy her position didn’t allow her to see his smirk. “I think Bunny thinks Daddy’s cock is scary, hmm?” His finger swirled, sandpaper-fingertip dragging over the sensitive swollen pearl again and again with little regard to how her stomach was curling. “A little intimidating, perhaps?” She rested her head on his thigh, her own thighs shaking, though his other hand kept her steady as his mouth sucked on her tender ring of muscle. “But Daddy’s a hero, Daddy would never hurt you, Bunny. Daddy loves you. You understand that, don’t you?” He asked, knowing damn well her answer would be scattered with how ruthless he was being with his fingers in her clit, abusing what power they had to make her bow.
“I love-ve you too, Da- daddy…” She drooled and sobbed out on his lap, wanting so badly to wind her thighs shut, protect what was about to burst, eyes closing and fluttering as her one hand dug fingernails into where they held her steady in the thick stiff muscles of his thighs, her other hand holding his cock, trying her best to guide him into her mouth so she could do as he demanded and save herself being scolded for not listening even though he was the one making it almost impossible to do much of anything except lie there and take it.
He stuck one finger, on long thick finger, into her sopping wet folds, felt her writhe before she could control herself, another finger still held firmly on her clit, drawing careful patterns he knew would make her mewl. “Daddy knows exactly how to please his little girl… and Bunny knows exactly how to please her Daddy, doesn’t she?” He asked rhetorically, words still carrying even though they were muffled into her ass. “I taught you so well.” His finger pumped, curling, scraping, hooking up into her spongey walls, making her mew. “Do you think Daddy’s a good teacher?” She could feel the curl of his salacious smirk as his teeth grazed past the lips of her pussy, tongue flicking, zig-zagging through the wet tender folds.
“The b- best.” She strained, inching further back as he was dragging, hauling her with his finger clawing at her insides.
“Good girl…” He purred, licking up and up until he met with the bud that now seemed to pulsate, her fear so endearingly on display for him. “I think Bunny deserves her prize.” His voice lowered, and she sucked in a breath with caught in her throat as she felt his hand, scathed and scarred and strangely rough and angled with how many times he’d broken his fingers.
He gave her much time to prepare, finger swirling circles onto the hole before dipping the tip inside. She scrunched her eyes shut at the feel of the tight skin of her hole stretching, forced apart to accommodate for Deku’s fat finger. The tight ring feeling as though ripping at the intrusion, tearing as he drove the digit slowly inside, a digit that seemed foreverlasting, growing thicker the more it inched inside her, until he was finally knuckle-deep.
She sucked with fervor now, in a way to pacify herself, gobbling down on his cock gluttonously. “Does it feel good, Bunny?” He asked, voice like honey so sweet it was burning. “My finger in your cute little butt?” He whined and mocked as he wiggled the length inside her, churning her guts in the prosses, earning small cries of discomfort from her slobbering on his cock.
“Yes, Daddy.” It was barely audible as she whimpered it into his thigh.
“Speak up.” He ordered, stern and stoic voice, still with his finger pumped and prompted into her tight ass, with the other hand’s fingers rubbing circles and pinching her swollen clit between them.
“Yes, Daddy.” Her back sloped as she tipped her head up. “I’m sorry.” Her one hand steadying her, placed in support on his thigh as the other tugged on his cock, fingers not managing to enclose around his girth as she messaged his length in long tentative strokes. “Thank you, Daddy, you feel so good.” She wasn’t exactly lying, and it was clear by the slick dripping that coated her thighs.
“Are you proud to have Daddy’s finger in your ass?” He asked, making her scrunch her brows, strangling herself with how hard she was trying to keep from crying. “You should be.” She cursed her existence, wishing she could take back whatever it was that had his eyes locked on her in the first place, whatever had him kidnapping her only to torment and use her as some slave. “To have Daddy’s number one hero finger pleasing your little quirkless butt.” And there it was, the reminder of how crucially inferior she was, such a perfect quirkless toy to feed his superiority-complex. “Tell me how grateful you are, Bunny.”
This was her life. Subjugated to a mere ragdoll for someone who’d do whatever the fuck they wanted to her, a life of belonging to someone, a life of a pet. “I love you so much, Daddy…” He groaned at her words, yet his fingers dug even harder into her hips. “You take such good care of me.” She just needed to tell him what he wanted to hear. “I’m hopeless without you. Thank you, Daddy.” Seems she did a good job, because he was shifting beneath her, hands letting her go for a second only to pull her into the new desired position.
“Come here, turn around.” He ordered, still in his frenzy, turning her around on his lap, making her sit with his cock smearing drool and precum over her stomach, hot against her skin where it bobbed up between the two of them. His hand and fingers glossy with juices from her pussy, came to grab her chin, cupping her cheek to still her as he pushed his lips onto her face, kissing her with hunger, as though in a hurry, his finger finding her ass again, sinking knuckle-deep inside her once again while grabbing onto the soft doughy flesh of ass, making her yelp against his lips, before he parted once more, a string of spit connecting them. “Does Bunny want Daddy’s cock inside her ass?” He mushed her face between his rough finger-pads, her lips puckered like a fish at him, eyes glossy with tearful plead, her thighs beginning to quake against him as she sat uncomfortably with his finger spearing her in the wrong hole.
Her bottom lip quivered then, eyes wide and brimming. “No- please… Daddy.” She would at least try to sway his mind, bargain her way out of it.
His look hardened, cocking an eyebrow at her resistance. “Is Bunny disobeying Daddy?” His grip on her face was past painful now, bruising, nails marking their presence, close to breaching her skin.
“No, Daddy, please-” She started, scrambling for something to save her, trying to make his hold relent, but falling short of making any savory excuses, reduced to mere whimpering as she accepted a preferred compromise. “My pussy would feel so lonely without you filling me up…” His fingers detached, yet only barely, still holding her chin, still controlling, though looking fascinated by the turn of events, pleasured with his little pet openly submitting to him, all with that adorable sweet voice. “I want your big beautiful number one cock inside me, please, Daddy please, I want you in my pussy.” She pushed forward to brush her breasts against his chest, grinding up into him in the process, hands brazenly stroking his cock all on their own command, forehead pressed against his as she did her best to seem seductive, licking her lips and maintaining eye-contact even as his green orbs seemed crazed and fervent and so dangerously feral.
“Bunny wants to come on Daddy’s cock, doesn’t she?” His tone was weirdly condescending, like he was talking to a toddler about getting ice-cream, and though she despised it with every fiber of her being, feeling like the tone itself was gasoline to a roaring raging fire, she did her best to swallow the smoke, knowing it would get her nowhere.
“Yes, Daddy. Pretty please.” She begged, and he wrapped his one hand around the small of her back, pushing her against his chest, his other hand still not having left, with its main finger inside her butt, doing small curious pumps into the tight flesh.
He licked the shell of her ear, a small chuckle coming out as huffs as his hand moved once again away from her back, to line his cock up with her still slick with spit clit, rubbing his cockhead over the bead before sliding it down to push open her sopping hole. “Can Bunny take Daddy in her cute little pussy with his finger inside her pretty ass? Yeah?” Tapping his thickness into her tightness while watching her nod in agreement, only slightly disappointed she didn’t repeat what she said once more, especially when it sounded so delicious dripping from her defeated lips. “Good girl, sit down on Daddy's cock.”
She eased down like she’d done for the past couple weeks, always surprised by just how thick he is, how stingingly and fearfully painful it is, always thinking it couldn’t possibly be as bad as she made it out to be previously though always proven wrong, thinking she ought to have stretched out to accommodate his size to a comfortable fit, yet not having achieved the pleasure still with how many times he’d ripped her apart.
“Hop on that dick little Bunny.” He whispered as she eased herself all the way down, cock fully sleeved inside her, feeling as she was about to burst, so full, so blown, yet he hadn’t any mercy left to spare. She felt his finger wiggle where it penetrated her backside entrance, how his cock and it messaged the wall that separated her two holes, feeling a new type of dangerous, giving her another worry even as the anxiety for what pain treading herself over his cock was already overwhelming enough on its own. “Come on, little Bunny, hands on my shoulders and jump.”
She hadn’t the mind to hold back the whimper, letting her seductive mask slip as the pain mingled pleasure demanded her attention more, hands unsteady as they gripped his shoulder, fingers running over those deep healed scars on his skin she’d gotten so used to tracing. She folded her feet over his legs, given her better balance as she began sliding him in and out slowly, at a pace she could hope to handle and hope was fast enough to please him and his beastly member.
He hummed, free hand coming up to toy with her breasts, grabbing it with those labor-knuckled fingers. “Such a happy little girl bouncing on Daddy’s cock…” He licked over his toothy-grin, salacious green eyes glistening with drunk toxic love-sick madness as he felt her tight suction on his manhood, gliding up and down, in and out, full and hollow. “What do you say?” He decided to tease, decided to make the hurt worse.
A soft whine left her and he couldn’t describe the sick bliss that fluttered in his chest because of it. “Thank you, Daddy.” She forced out yet again, her voice all shaken and adorable.
And still he felt the wanton desire to push. “For what, Bunny? Be specific.”
She knew the drill, what he wanted to hear, but that didn’t make it any easier to force from her throat, even harder to relent from seething the words through grit teeth where she knew such aggression wouldn’t be tolerated, because nothing but her complete and full submission would be tolerated by Deku. “Thank you, Daddy, for giving me your big beautiful number one cock.” What was funny was that it was in a sense still true, despite her hating every word of it, despite her cursing the sentence, the praise, the gratitude. It did feel good, behind the pain, behind her disgust, it felt good. What more, Deku was the number one hero, not just the strongest man alive, but intelligent, knowledgeable and ruthless too, where it really would be unwise to not feel grateful for having been chosen by him, where people should be grateful he even chooses to be a hero at all, when he could just as easily be a villain, or a bloody tyrant. She should be grateful that she was given the honor of being his. Her body sure knows how to show its humility, doing its best to please him, showing him just how appreciated and welcome his touches are with how undeniably wet her pussy gets each time, clenching around his shaft as it drills deep into her, filling her out, completing her, pushing into that spongey spot deep within her, making her stomach flip, toes curl, clit buzz with pleasure, shamefully come all over him.
He made a moan of awe, patronizing in its nature. “Are you gonna come for me? All over Daddy’s cock.” She wanted to scream, throw herself off his lap, slap him, claw and bite and kick, but instead she was doing exactly what he said. “A happy little Bunny stuffed with Daddy's cock and his finger up her bum.” He whined, hand having glided down from holding her chin in favor of wrapping around her throat, nose touching nose, emerald steel-eyes keenly watching her every move, feeling her clench around him, making him hiss with pleasure like a snake.
“Yes, Daddy please.” She never liked snakes. Her new life was made of snakes. Snakes taking the form of ropes, tying her down, chaining her up, snakes in her guts, swirling and coiling and tickling that strange pleasure that had treacherous venom drip onto the snake that penetrated her, his arms like snakes around her waist, thick constrictors holding her still, keeping her trapped for devouring.
“Beg for it.”
She sucked in a beaten breath, forcing her will to comply to his wishes, swallowing her pride, subduing the fighter in favor of having her fall on her own sword, instead of digging her own grave. “Daddy, please can I come on your cock?” One would think the human soul gets used to humiliation after some time, but the ball in her chest hadn’t softened no matter how many times she’d offered up her dignity, no matter how many times Deku had forced her to her knees. “You feel so good inside me, Daddy.” She mewed in gratitude, moaning as he hit the right spot again and again, making her go blind as she tried focusing on what sweet nothings she needed to say. “I wanna come for you so badly, Daddy please.” He gave her a kiss to her nose then, meant to be sweet even though it would have revolted her had she been in the right mind to feel anything but forcibly good, all sweet with chasing her release, riding him, jumping on his length like a good bunny should.
“Good Bunny.” He purred an she had not the mind to feel like cussing, only desperately waiting for him to allow her release. “You see? Things are so much easier when you do as you're told, when you do what Daddy tells you.” He bottomed out into her tight heat, filling her up to the hilt, felt her body spasm with half panic at how deep inside her he was and half pleasure with how dangerous it felt to have her cervix molded by the shape of his cock-head burying itself in the spongey spot. “Come on, come on Daddy’s cock, make Daddy feel good.” She couldn’t refuse, even if he’d told her to hold it, she couldn’t, couldn’t stop the lightning to shoot through her, pussy clenching around his cock like a death-grip, strangling his length, sucking on him, milking his shaft, unsure whether she wanted him to pull out or stay inside her warmth, but luckily that decision wasn’t up to her, all she needed to do was not forget her manners.
“Thank you, Daddy…” It dripped from her mouth like sweet-tasting poison, tongue dripping with thick drool as she panted and mewled with how he continued warming his cock inside her, trying to push further and deeper inside even though there was no more space to be filled, resulting to a deep thrusting that felt as though he was about to push through into her womb.
He kissed her cheek as she numbed down to a relaxed exhausted limp body in his arms. “You’re welcome, Bunny… but Daddy isn't finished with you yet.” She felt her stomach twist despite knowing how she wasn’t done until Deku shoots his thick cream and paints whatever part of her body he had the appetite for.
Pulled from her high by the knowledge of how it was a psychotic madman who had granted it, as she felt said green-haired man guide her to lay on her back. 
“There you go, Bunny… such a cute mess.” He licked his lips, where she only barely tried to scurry away from his hungry lips gaining on her sensitive raw orgasm-glossed sex. 
She whined when his tongue dragged up her slit to drink her juices, flicking over her tender swollen clit, hands in his hair, trying their best to refrain from yanking him away. 
“Oh, Bunny’s so sensitive… did Daddy make you feel too good.” She squirmed beneath him, convulsing as he teased with his tongue and his lips and the light grazing ghosting of his teeth. “Look at you… Daddy’s little Crybunny.” He snickered, smirking as he gorged himself beneath her legs, loving the whiny moans and whimpers she couldn’t hold back, and how her hands tried ever so sweetly to nudge him off, how she dug the balls of her feet into the mattress to try and shuffle away from his attack, but not allowed to go anywhere with his arms locked around her thighs, keeping her just where he wanted her, shivering beneath him and only seconds away from crying and begging him to stop. “Does the little Bunny need her pacifier?” He hummed in askance. “Don’t you move a muscle, Bunny, I have a treat for you...” 
He hopped off the bed with a speed that went unnoticed while she blinked to find him position behind her, hovering above her face, thick and fat and veined from hilt to tip, tidy shaven green-stubble above his strutting proud cock, a path of longer hairs trailing up to his belly-button and sprinkled into a pretty growth of chest-hair the higher up his chiseled abs it went. 
“Open up, Bunny.” He tapped the glossy mushroom-tip onto her lips, smearing what concoction of precum and juices had mingled together there. 
She did as commanded, parting her lips yet making sure to wrap her teeth, knowing how he didn’t appreciate being bitten either by accident or not, having little understanding to how hard it was to fit him in her mouth without letting her teeth graze his impressive girth. 
“Taste yourself.” He groaned. “Suck me clean, Bunny.” He lightly patted the side of her face, fingers drumming on her cheek, telling her to hollow them in and suck on him. “There you go.” He praised, watching her struggle not to gag as he began lightly fucking the back of her throat, pushing farther down, liking how her already tight tunnel began clenching around him, trying to hold back the coughs. “Be a good Bunny and swallow all of me.” 
Usually he’d enjoy the feel of her nose dipping into his pelvis, but now with her upside down, he could feel his balls being poked as they smothered her only remaining breathing option. Still, he took his time, knowing how she could take a few seconds without air, enjoying the look of his fat cock down her throat, his hand testing a daring stroke over her jugular, watching to see if she would convulse and gag and splutter out coughs like she did the first couple of times he ventured deep, yet was proud to see her stay in play with only a few panicked spams of her chest. He probed even further as he lightly pinched the outline of his shaft between his thumb and index-finger, listening to her begin to whine, a submissive little prayer to let her breathe again. 
“Good Bunny…” He pulled out, large hands cupping her cheeks, telling her to remain lying there as he bent over to kiss her spit-slicked lips, his hand reaching over to palm her breast while the other reached farther to rub rough patterns into her terribly oversensitive clit, making her gasp out a strangled uncontrolled moan into his receiving mouth. “Come on, one more time.” He straightened himself, taking the opportunity to push through her open-mouthed panting with his dripping cock. “Get me nice and wet for your little Bunny-butt…”
Her eyes shot open, hands flailing instead of holding onto his thighs. “No-” She tried protesting, as she lightly tapped at his firm muscled ass with the face of her palm, slapping to get her discomfort across.
“No, no, Bunny, do as you’re told, do what Daddy says.” Deku chastised, grabbing her bothersome hands by the wrist and holding them behind his back, feeling her try to recoil away, yet well-trained enough to not bite as his cock pushed down her throat again. “Be a good Bunny and suck on Daddy.” He rocked his hips slowly back and forth, jutting lightly into her mouth. “Just like Daddy taught you.” His voice remained sweetly stoic, like a teacher or a parent, made her want to throw up on him, yet knowing how he didn’t stop last time she did, he just kept fucking her skull, even with the bile and acidic liquid burning in her throat. “Wash out all those filthy protests.” She whimpered at how his hands tightened around her wrists, balls lightly clapping over the bridge of her nose, swinging into her face each time he pushed until his entire length was enclosed to the hilt. “Teach you some manners Bunny-girl.” 
Her eyes stung now, with the built-up tears that now flowed freely, dampening her hairline before dripping into the sheets. 
Deku moaned, releasing her hands, needing his own to reposition his toy in the new desired position. “Up on your knees.” He remained staining at the edge of the bed, helping his darling kneel. “Posture, Bunny.” He chastised. “Arch that ass up for Daddy.” 
His hand spread flat in the space between her shoulder blades, pushing her upper-body down into the sheets, gliding to enclose around the back of her neck to keep her still while the fingers of his other hand stroked chaffed fingertips up and down the tender lips of her pussy, diving between her folds to gather slick wetness he used to push into her sore hole, curling two digits into the spongey velvet walls, making her moan into the pillow she was forced against. 
“Stay.” He ordered, all his warmth leaving her as she remained clutching and balling up the fabric of the sheets in her tiny useless fists, keeping her ass presented in the air, waiting with eager horror for Deku to return. 
She heard him open a drawer, then click open a lid, the squirt of something she had an educated guess of what was, listened to the slick sounds of him messaging the liquid into his hands, before his heavy steps carried him back to his position behind her. 
“Look at this precious little bunny-hole.” His fingers felt slippery as they rubbed and palmed her ass-cheeks, left hand lifting the plump flesh on one side, whilst the other moved to slide up and down the ravine before hooking a finger inside the top tight little ring of muscle. “Bunny needs Daddy’s cock inside her little butt, doesn’t she?” He pushed it in with ease now with the lube covering his hands, preparing the tightness by pumping the digit in and out, tickling the unsuspecting nerves that had never been played with before, the feeling strange yet surprisingly pleasant as his finger scraped downward, rubbing against a spot that had her pussy gushing around nothing. “Bunny’s tight little butt is just begging to be filled with Daddy's cock isn’t it, Bunny?”
She wasn’t too sure anymore. “No…”
He stuck another finger in with the first one at her reply, making her whine out a wail, toes curling, her one leg thumping up and down into the mattress, trying to shake and crawl away but not allowed to go anywhere with his hand reaching to recover the position it held before, holding her down, pressured around the back of her neck. “Up until now Bunny has been enjoying herself, but this attitude… tch, tch, Bunny... perhaps she needs a little reminder of who she belongs to?” 
She whimpered at the feel of both his thick fingers gliding alongside each other in and out of her tight tender hole, as she clenched around them and around nothing where juices were dripping down her thighs. 
“And there is no punishment without a little pain.” 
He’d only been dipping his digits in halfway, and she realized this once he decided to go knuckle-deep inside her, making her jolt at the foreign feeling of something going inside, much deeper now. 
She was arching her back up like a cat, trying to hide her ass from his antagonizing hands. “What have I told you about posture, Bunny?” His hand let partially go of her neck to glide up her spine, resting on the small of her back. “Give Daddy your hands.” She hesitated, taking her time to breath, feeling his fingers sink in, making her knees tremble, before she listened and folded her arms behind her, again like he’d taught her. “Now, arch your little Bunny-butt up for me.” 
She took small shallow breaths as she readjusted her back into a slope again, knowing what was coming, however as she felt it, big and warm and slick and soft like velvet, riding up her drooling pussy, his fingers disappearing from playing with her hole to make room for what would soon take their place, something much bigger and much longer, both his hands grabbing each her wrists, but not before making a cross of her arms, perfectly immobile for him as he lined his aching eager cock up with her pulsating little hole, she couldn’t hold back.
“No, please, Daddy, I’ll be good.” She begged, trying to scramble away, but being to late as she was left simply sobbing into the mattress, unable to move to any other position without it hurting with how his hands had bent her arms behind her back, yet despite knowing this he still took it upon himself to raise his foot and place it down over the side of her face, stomping slightly on it as a warning to keep still. Her movement obliged, coming to a halt, though not able to contain the trembling. “Please…” She tried one last time, though knowing he had no mercy nor patience left to spare her.
“Don’t disobey Daddy.” He fit his cockhead into the dip of her back entrance again, lining up the attack. “Now Bunny, beg for Daddy to fill your little butt up.” She tried shaking her head beneath the pressure of his foot, feeling her heart in her throat, pouting and scrunching her eyes shut, sniffling so adorably, yet he couldn’t take any pity on her when this was a lesson she needed to learn. “I said beg.” He pulled her arms back, as she screamed with how her shoulder-blades were close to popping out, his foot mushing her face harder into the mattress.
“Pl- please Daddy… fill me u- up…” She blubbered, every inch of her quivering.
He quit his torture, leaving her to simply snivel. “Good girl.” And then he started pushing.
Big bulging mushroom head entering slowly as she whimpered, butthole seizing around it, swallowing it up. “You see, Bunny?” His movements stilled, letting her get used to the new feeling of having something so big fit in the firm taunt hole. “Your little butt is sucking on my cock like a lollipop.” 
He aimed a drop of spit at where he was cramming inside her, the cold wetness hitting her with surprise as she slightly jumped on her knees, bouncing in the soft sponge of the mattress, the movement inadvertently making his cock rock with shallow thrusts in and out of her, messaging her opening. 
He moaned at the cute gesture. “Bunny’s so eager to receive Daddy’s cock, isn’t she?” He slid farther in, making her moan as his cock dragged along the wall that separated from her pussy, making everything tighten up, her pussy feeling so empty, clenching on nothing at all, yet feeling his fat length in just the wrong place, teasing her, making her so unbelievably wet. “Tell Daddy how good it feels, Bunny.” He pulled out again, beginning a slow tempo of lolling halfway into her.
He looked to her face, flushed red and squished together beneath the sole and weight of his foot keeping her down, lips puckered and bloated, cheeks tear-stained, eyes sparkling as she mumbled on small bubbling purrs, unsure pleasure painting her face, looking like such an endearing hopeless mess as he squeezed into the tight fit of her perfect plump ass. “It feels good, Daddy.” She quavered, shaky breaths and small sniffles leaving her adorable expression.
He hummed in return, sinking just a little bit farther inside her, feeling her tense as he did, an open-mouthed whine leaving her, drool hanging like silver string from her lips. “I think Bunny can be more creative than that, can’t she?”
She knew better than to disobey, especially when he already had her in such a compromising postion, knowing he wasn’t far away from pushing all the way inside her still accommodating ass, make her scream and possibly bleed as he fucked her through yet another punishment. “Daddy’s cock feels so good. So good with your number one cock inside me. I love you, Daddy. I love Daddy’s cock. Thank you, Daddy.” She drooled out as sweetly as she could, which was sweeter than honey with how hard it was to breath in her position of being pushed into the pillow beneath her, body slunk with no way of getting up, a proper prayer-pose as Deku stuffed her even fuller, making her mew.
“That’s right…” He groaned, hips rocking slowly and carefully back and forth, opening her little butt with his thickness, messaging her insides, teasing all the sensitive provoked nerves, poking shallowly into the spot that usually had her coming were it not on the other side, in her other hole who was begging to be stimulated in a way that wasn’t half-way fulfilling and half-way terrifying. “And to think Bunny thought she didn’t want this. Daddy still hasn’t heard his apology…”
“You’re right, Daddy, I was wrong… I do want this…” Another moan was forced from her as he inched even further inside, pushing into uncharted and unsuspecting tender areas, making her bleat and sigh ever so sweetly, unable to do anything but lie there and feel every inch of him stuffing her full, taking his time enjoying her tight hole.
He moaned in awe at her words, nearly slobbering. “Daddy knows what’s best for you Bunny.” Another inch had her feeling even fuller, as though he was in her stomach. “Daddy knows what Bunny wants and needs.” He fucked with the added length for a short-lived while until pushing another full inch inside, having her whine out a moan, her ass shaking like a little tease, wiggling at him, her arms also trying ever so slightly on reflex to pull out of his grasp. “Daddy’s always right, Bunny only needs to please Daddy.” 
He started sinking in inch after inch, unbothered or perhaps coaxed by how she struggled now, opting to bottom out fully, have his balls squished against her glossy pussy, his cock completely enclosed by her tight spasming butt, grunting out a shuddering groan of potent pleasure while feeling her little futile struggles trying so desperately to make him stop or slow down as he filled her up completely. 
“You just need to listen… and obey.”
TIP-JAR
2K notes · View notes
nessinborderland · 4 years ago
Text
Be Mine (06)
Pairing: Niragi x Reader / Chishiya x Reader
Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Omegaverse
Word Count: 4.3k
Summary: You were able to stay unbounded throughout your life. You didn’t want an Alpha; you didn’t need one. You would rather die than to give yourself to some random male. But the man that saved your life thinks differently.
Warnings: Alpha/Omega, Dubious Consent, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Finger fucking, Rough Sex, Rough Kissing, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding, Pregnancy Kink, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Drama, Developing Relationship, Past Abuse, Scars, Death, Blood and Gore, Animal Death, Trauma, Bath Sex, Blood and Injury, Oral Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Feelings
Notes: Welcome! Here is chapter 6! I apologize for the wait, but this is how things are going to be from now on, I'm afraid. I just started my second semester of college and I'm drowning in work. Please don't expect more than a chapter a week :/ I hope you understand that I'm trying my best. I hope you enjoy this chapter <3
AO3 Link        Masterlist
Tumblr media
Niragi wakes up with the sun, light seeping into the room through the blinds that no one cares to close. His whole body hurts like he has been hit by a meteor. Not quite though, but sure feels like it. He keeps his eyes close as your scent hits his nostrils; you smell like vanilla and strawberries. It’s so sweet, he has to control himself every time you’re near to not bite you. And now you smell like him too. No more of that disgusting toothpaste and dirt stench Chishiya left on your skin. Only sweetness and warmth.
Fucking Chishiya. The bastard had tried killing him, he had no doubt about that. The way the wolf drove him right into that trap; he was lucky he didn’t get his paw cut off right there. He was also pretty sure he had fucked you just to piss him off. He cursed himself from being so stupid; he should know Chishiya would try something while he was away. But after your first night together, he had to leave. All these messed up and foreign emotions inside him; he couldn’t deal with those. After he saw your back and all his trauma came tumbling through, he needed to leave that room. He needed to think. 
So he left, got drunk, came back to the room, and vaguely remembers making you a promise; like a stupid boy in love. He bailed as soon as he woke up.
Before he noticed it, he was playing game after game, getting as many cards as he possibly could. He almost died several times, but he kept doing it. He couldn’t sleep either, his nights filled with nightmares. He wondered what he was doing it for. Then he realized; he was doing it for you. To take you out of this place. It had been instinctive to try keeping you safe. You had no idea how getting away from you hurt him, but he couldn’t bring himself to be close. He kept eyes on you though; he could never stay away completely. There was always someone watching.
Then Chishiya happened, and none of that mattered. You are his, and he will make sure everyone knows it. 
Fuck, how he hates that white-haired sociopath; his fingers tingle to shoot him every time he’s on sight. But he simply never had the chance. The man didn’t bother him half as much as he does now. Your arrival has changed everything.
You ended up in bed after sex, somehow managing to get out of the bath. If he was honest with himself, fucking you had been a struggle; everything in his body hurt, and he could barely think through the fever. But it was so worth it. He had almost forgotten how amazing your scent is, how your soft skin tastes, and how your warm pussy clenches around him in time with his thrusts. It was perfect. You’re perfect.
He opens his eyes to stare at the top of your head, your body nestled against his side. You sleep soundly, soft breathing raising the arm he has over you. Your whole body presses against his, and he can feel himself getting hard again. He can’t wait for you to be in heat; he will waste no time in knotting inside you and marking you as his. Then he will get you out of this fucking country and make sure to give you the best life he can.
These thoughts are foreign to him; he had no idea an Omega could awake those kinds of instincts. Before he met you, he had no interest in romantic relationships; every relation he had with a woman was either professional or straight-up sex. He wasn’t the caring type; he isn’t the caring type. 
Not that he will ever tell anyone this, but it terrifies him. 
Now he caught himself wondering about what you like, how he can protect you, and how you feel about him. Fuck, he even imagined what it would be like to have a family with you. 
He notices how your tone changes every time you mention family. He hadn’t expected the fact that your own father had given you those scars, but it added up to your refusal to bond and accept your true nature. Still, he can’t avoid the images of you pregnant with his child from popping up in his mind every time he’s inside you; it only makes him come harder.
Fuck, he’s painfully hard.
You stir against him, leg rising over his hip. Damn, how he wishes he could turn you on your back and fuck you till you’re a moaning mess without it bringing him agony. It borders on annoying how much his wolf craves yours. It’s such a powerful, almost impossible to ignore, instinct.
He just has to have you.
His hand slides down your back, fingers lightly touching the skin until he reaches the curve of your ass. Your skin is so soft and warm; he never touched anything like you. The sensation he feels when you touch is electrifying; addicting. He can’t get enough. Is it his wolf or his own feelings? He gives your ass a slight squeeze, smirking when you make a sound between a moan and a sigh. His hand slides a little lower until his fingertips are touching your pussy lips. His smirk gets wider; you’re already wet, and he barely had to touch you.
You whimper when he slides his fingers inside, your hips moving against his side almost immediately. He lets out a small laugh, his other hand rising to palm your breast. You push even more against him.
“Niragi…” you moan. The hairs on his body rise up as he feels your lips on his skin, kissing and licking his chest. He starts pumping his fingers in and out of you; he bets he can make you come just like this. After that, he will make you come on his cock, just like the night before.
Your moans fill the room as he keeps fucking you, fingers stretching you and massaging your velvety walls. The hand on your breasts rises to touch your lips, and you’re sucking on his fingers before he even has to ask. Fuck, your mouth must feel great around his cock. He decides right there that you won’t leave the bed until you suck him dry.
“Sit on my face,” he orders in a deep voice. You look at him with semi-open eyes, lips full, mouth open in a moan. He’s pulling your face in a kiss before you can utter a word, “I want to fuck your mouth while making you come on my tongue,” he whispers against your lips. He watches you hesitate for a second before moving into the position he told you to, legs spread on either side of his head, wet pussy right over his face.
Your scent hits him like a truck; is mouth-watering. He might be wrong, but something tells him you’re close to your heat; that makes him so hard he feels dizzy for a second. He gives you an experimental lick, waiting for your reaction, chuckling when you whimper and your thighs shake. His arms go around your legs to grab at your ass, spreading the cheeks for easier access. His tongue is inside you not long after, licking and thrusting and slurping as you move your hips over his mouth.
Niragi’s brain almost stops working when you put his cock in your mouth without warning. He freezes, lips still on your clit, moaning as the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. Fuck, your mouth is heaven. Nothing can compare to your pussy, but your tongue pressing down on his shaft is pretty damn close. The slurping and gagging noises you make only excite him further, and he’s back at lapping at your dripping cunt. 
“I- I want you inside me-” you whine as you stroke his cock, now slick with your spit. His only answer is a slap to your ass and a harder suck on your clit. You gasp at the joined sensation, arching your back as you rest your head on his thigh. A second slap, this time harder, makes you cry out.
“Use your mouth,” Niragi says with a light bite to your inner thigh. He didn’t tell you to stop. “Don’t stop until you’re swallowing every drop of my cum.”
Your mouth goes back to his cock, sucking him and licking him even harder than before. He can’t stop himself from thrusting into you; he needs more. Two of his fingers go inside your pussy at the same time he gives his full attention to your clit. The sounds you make as he sucks you and fingerfucks you are music to his ears; it’s the only thing he wants to hear for the rest of his life.
“Niragi I’m- ”
“Keep sucking,” he interrupts before you can finish talking. He knows damn well you’re about to come; he feels it on the vice grip you pull on his fingers. His movements get more experimental; he wants to find the exact spot that will make you scream.
He’s sure he found it when you almost bite down on his cock, body falling on top of him when your legs give up on you for a moment. He grunts in discomfort before warning, “I’m gonna stop every time you stop. Keep sucking, or you’re not coming.”
You do as he says, and he resumes his new found pace. You squirm above him, but he keeps fucking you with his tongue and fingers, waiting for your orgasm to explode. He feels his own getting closer, a pulling sensation on his pelvis barely letting him concentrate on you. 
You finally come with a scream around his cock. He keeps going, lapping at your cunt like you’re a fountain and he hasn’t had water for days. The vibrations of your voice make him come right after, surprising both of you. You choke for a moment as you try to swallow all of his cum.
He’s not done though; not quite yet.
“Ride me,” he says after a moment where you both try to regain your breath. Another thing he can thank his Alpha status for; he’s pretty sure he can fuck you nonstop for hours. He grunts in slight pain as you try to change positions, your wobbly legs making it harder to move. He’s already half-hard again, and it doesn’t take you long to sink on his cock.
Fuck, your pussy is just the warmest and tightest hole he has ever fucked. His hands go to your hips, immediately forcing you to set up a pace. His body still hurts like hell, but he doesn’t care. Nothing matters but you above him, mouth open in pleasure and tits bouncing as you impale yourself up and down on his cock.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he can’t resist the impulse to praise you. Your eyes flash with content, and he knows you love it. “Fucking me like that, so wet and tight. Such a good Omega.” Your lips are on his with a moan, and he smiles into the kiss, teeth softly biting your lip. He accepts your body on him, even though his injuries burn. It doesn’t matter, they will heal. You keep moving on him, his cock filling you to the brim. 
Images of you round and pregnant with his child, tits full with milk, pop again into his mind. He can’t control himself; he will make it into reality one day. His hips snap harder against you, and you clench even harder on his cock. He feels like he’s going insane; his wolf is howling to get out and possess you like the beast he is.
“Say it, who do you belong to?” he snarls between kisses and licks to your neck, “Tell me, who’s your Alpha?” 
“Y-you are- ” you manage to say between whimpers of pleasure. “Alpha- “
“Say my name!”
“You- Niragi, you are-”
“That’s right,” his teeth graze the skin of your marking spot, and you shudder. He’s so close.
His teeth sink on your shoulder for just a second, but it’s enough. His orgasm feels like an explosion of pleasure, and he swears he goes blind for a moment. Together with the euphoric sensation, comes something he wasn’t expecting. It’s like a faint echo of emotions that are not his; he’s pretty sure of that. They’re yours.
He opens his eyes to stare into yours, gaze filled with something he can’t recognize, but he can feel. A mix of euphoria, care, adoration, and… fear; apprehension, to be more exact. He doesn’t quite understand the last one. Why would you be afraid? He’s here to protect you, says his wolf.
All those emotions freak him out. The man is terrified. It’s too much again. He swiftly but carefully pushes you off of him to the side, and he curses himself as he feels the faint emotion of shame and rejection. Now that he’s fully conscious, this was a bad idea. It’s too much. Took years of work for him to be able to put his feelings under control; and then here you are, filling his head with your unruly emotions and thoughts of babies and marriage. 
That’s not him; it never was, it never will be.
Biting you was a mistake, he thinks for just a second, before the mere thought of denying you makes him want to slap himself.
You could kill her, a voice suggests in his head, for just a millisecond, barely there. He has to control himself to not gag at the thought; he would rather kill himself than put a hand on you. 
“Are- are you leaving again?” you ask in a faint voice. He’s sure you can feel him as much as he can feel you, and he tries to push your presence away from his mind. You’re not supposed to be in his head. 
No one is, not even you.
He only stares at you, noticing the faint bite mark he left on your shoulder. The expression on his face is probably not the best, because you swiftly cover yourself when you notice his gaze. He sighs, before shrugging with a chuckle.
“You’re the one in my room,” he says, fighting the urge to cringe. The words are out before he can second guess himself more. “Why should I be the one leaving?” The expression on your face and the emotions that he feels in his mind are almost too much to bear. He tries to hide them as best as he can but knows he’s unsuccessful when you scowl at him, a shine in your eyes.
“I know what you’re trying to do, so stop lying!” you’re on the verge of tears, and it makes his heart ache, “You have no right to say you want me and then push me away.”
“A lot of talk for someone who has been denying me since we first met!” he snaps back. He knows his words are hurting you but that’s what he wants; hurting others is familiar, hurting others makes sense. “What, you think you’re the only one allowed to have second thoughts? And what made you change your mind so fast uh, especially after you fucked Chishiya like a bitch in heat? Is my dick that good you fuck-”
Your palm hits his cheek with a sharp sound.
He was expecting it; he could feel it coming. You stare at him, tears streaming down your cheeks in an otherwise cold expression. But he can feel your sadness and anger. He’s reaching for you out of instinct before he can stop himself; to comfort you. But he was the one who hurt you. Part of him wanted to push you away, while the other part abominated the simple thought of it. 
“You’re clearly well enough to take care of yourself,” you say as you get dressed in haste. Your tone is ice cold, but he catches on the slight tremble of your voice. He just lays there, staring at the ceiling; he knows he will stop you from leaving if he moves or looks at you, “Stay away from me,” you say over your shoulder as you slam the door close.
He wants to shoot something. Like, really fill something, preferably somebody, full of bullets. Or kick someone until they’re vomiting blood. Or just do something, whatever it is, to take his mind out of you,
But his head hurts and he can barely get out of bed. So he just lays there, hating himself and blaming everyone else for what he just did. He messed it up; he wanted to mess it up. He hates himself for it.
He has to go after you.
No, he doesn't. He doesn’t need you or wants you close.
Yes, he does.
He makes a frustrated sound before making an effort to stand up. His foot is still the thing that brings him pain the most. Most of his body is bandaged up, but he doesn’t need half of those anymore; most of his injuries are either healed or halfway there. He tries to get dressed as fast as he can, which is not saying much.
He’s about to leave to go after you when there’s a knock on the door. He opens it to see one of Hatter’s men. 
“What the fuck do you want?” The young man just gulps while looking at him; at the rifle in his hand, more specifically.
“Uh, there's uh- there’s an executive meeting,” says the guy with a gulp, “They’re expecting you.”
“I’m busy, now fuck off.” He gets out and closes his door, pushing the man aside. Oh, someone give him the strength not to shoot the messenger. He starts walking when the man speaks again.
“Hmm, it's about the Omega...”
He doesn’t waste time answering, walking down the hallways as fast as he can without making his limp noticeable; he has a reputation to maintain after all. He catches your scent all the way to the meeting room and he knows he will find you inside.
He opens the door to find everyone already there, now looking at him. He keeps his head high, eyes locked on you sitting against the wall. You have been crying, he can see that. Your eyes are down, but your emotions are clear to him, now that you’re close to each other again. Disappointment, fear, shame. 
You’re fucking scum, his wolf whispers to him. Yeah, he is.
He takes his usual seat at the table, at Aguni’s left. He can feel your eyes on the back of his head, and he has to control himself to not look back. Hatter is saying something, but he’s not listening; he doesn’t care. Chishiya sits in front of him, and just the sight of the man makes his blood boil. His finger twitches on the rifle’s trigger; with a simple click, the biggest of his worries will be gone. His eyes are suddenly on him, and the man smirks. Niragi has no doubt he knows what went on; everybody else in that room has at least an idea.
Your name being said snaps his attention to Hatter’s words.
“- Ann said. And I agree,” the man says, “You’re smart, you’re fast, and you’re alive. I think that qualifies you for a lower number. You can even become a militant if you want, I’m sure Niragi-”
“No-” you suddenly interrupt, “I mean, I’m fine with just going on games and helping Ann with what I can.” You sound hesitant, “If that's okay with you…?”
Hatter’s smile brightens, “Of course Y/N, whatever you feel like doing. You got the right to it, after all,” he says with a nod. “Also, nice work at the Ten of Spades, guys. From what Chishiya told me, you were very close to dying, Niragi.”
He scoffs, “Yeah, I wonder why…” 
The rest of the meeting passes by in a blur. He can feel the occasional gaze on him, but no one tries to call his attention. He’s too focused on trying to get a grasp on his messed up emotions, while also trying to understand yours at the same time. You’re trying to hide from him, but he can still feel you in the back of his mind.
A nudge from Aguni snaps him back to reality, and he realizes the meeting is over. He looks behind him, but you’re already gone. He stands up with a grunt of pain and follows you; he needs to talk to you. He rounds a corner to find you speaking with Chishiya. You immediately sense him close, turning around to face him. Chishiya gives him a condescending smile before whispering something to you and walking away. It would be so easy to shoot the man in the back; what is stopping him anyway? He raises his rifle just an inch before your hand snaps and pushes the gun away.
“Stop that!” you say, eyes locked on his.
“You know he tried to kill me, right?” he says, lowering the rifle. “I’m just trying to return the favor.” He tries to touch your arm, but you take a step back. It hurts him more than he cares to admit, “What were you two talking about?”
“About how you rejected me and practically kicked me out of your room after we had sex,” you say, a bite to your words he doesn’t fail to notice. He can feel your anger. “He offered to take care of my problem for you, isn’t that so nice of him?”
The fuck he will. He grabs your arm and pushes you against the wall, hand firmly around your throat. He can’t feel your fear, and it only makes him angrier.
“I’ve been way too good to you,” he doesn’t really mean the words that come out of his mouth. He tries to control his shaking hand, “If you choose him, I’ll kill you both. Don’t fucking try me.”
Your eyes never leave his. He can feel a spark of rebelliousness in you. It both excites him and angers him even more.
“I’m not choosing either of you,” you say. He knows you’re not completely sincere either, “You can suck each other’s dicks, for all I care. I’m done with both of you.” 
He lets out a humorless chuckle, “You seem to forget that I can smell you.” Your eyes widened slightly, “You have what, three days before you’re in heat? What makes you think I’m gonna let you get out of that one unbound? Because I won’t, and that fucking dog sure won’t either.”
“Fuck- “
“-You?” he says, nose grazing your neck. He can feel your pulse fastening. “I will, you can bet your fine ass on that.” He can sense the confusion in you. He’s confused too; part of him wants that connection that only a bonded couple can have, while the other fears everything that comes with it. But he’s mad, he’s in pain, and he wants you. He does.
So he kisses you. You taste and smell like him, your scents mixing perfectly; it’s addicting. He can’t get enough of you. He forces his tongue inside your mouth and you let him, arms going around his neck to play with his air. One moment you’re pushing against him, the other you’re pushing him away.
“No, this is madness!” you exclaim. He sees the unshed tears in your eyes, “I’m not doing this anymore, get off me.” 
“Y/N- “
“Don’t touch me!” you swat his hands away, “I told you before and I’m telling you now;l,” you’re fully crying, tears streaming down your face, “I am not going to have the miserable life my parents had! You made your choice earlier, now let me make mine!” 
“Y/N I- “
“No, shut up and listen to me,” you point a finger at his chest, and he has to control himself not to touch you. “I understand how overwhelming this is for you too, but you have no right to say the things you said to me. Unless you’re here to apologize, I don’t want anything to do with you. I’m not a toy, Niragi.” He looks away, somewhere above your head. He can’t bring himself to say it, even though he knows you’re right. “If this is the behavior I can expect from you in a relationship, then forget it,” you say in a low tone, stepping away. “I’ll be in my room if you decide to apologize.”
He sees you walk away; he knows that following you will only make things worse. He never felt that he needed to have this much control over himself. Before you arrived, he could pretty much do whatever he wanted with no consequences; he could fuck, drink, kill, and torture as much as he wished. Now he can barely do anything without being afraid of what you will think of him. He wants your approval and acceptance more than ever, and it pisses him off.
“Having trouble with the Omega?” he doesn’t have to turn around to know that is Last Boss. He nods once and the man proceeds. “Want help persuading her? Make her more...compliant.”
Niragi considers it for just a second before shaking his head. He might not know you well, but he knows you more than you think; ‘persuading’ you would bring him nothing but a headache. Why couldn’t you be the submissive and shy Omega they talk about in books? It would make his life so much easier. 
But he does enjoy a challenge. Winning your heart and body is more than enough motivation for him.
Even if he has to fight himself to have you.
Next Chapter
311 notes · View notes
duuhrayliegh · 4 years ago
Text
watch your six - part two
pairing: eventual bucky x reader
warnings: some violence, trigger warning of sedation (it isn’t in there for a long time and the description of it isn’t super good BUT it’s still there), mentions of kidnapping, i think that’s it. 
word count: just a bit over 3k 
a/n: okay! here’s part two, i’m experimenting with the longer parts, so let me know what y’all think of it. bucky does make an appearance soon, i swear y’all :) just be patience with me babes. also, i know this isn’t like the typical fan fic because it isn’t in the second person but we’re powering through together. i hope y’all enjoy babes <3
p.s.: if y’all want to be added to a tag list for this series, shoot me a message and we’ll get it worked out 
series m.list
ray’s m.list
*****************
I shot up from my bed, eyes wild and frantic searching for anything to ground me to my current surroundings. It was just a dream, just a dream. It was just a dream. Except it didn’t feel like a dream. Everything was too detailed, too crisp for it to have really been just a dream. I swung my legs off my bed and grabbed a hold of the fluffy white comforter. Groaning, I pushed my feet to touch the cold hardwood of my apartment. I made my way towards my kitchen and my coffee maker. I popped a breakfast blend K-cup into the slot and dumped a mug full of water into the side of the machine. Pressing the button, I turned while listening to the coffee machine force the water through the coffee grounds and filter and into my cup.
Looking out into my living room, I eyed my couch. It was intact with no bullet holes riddling the cushions. It was still the pristine white that I’ve spent many nights curled on watching movies. The dark stained wood coffee table in front of it brought memories of long study sessions with books and loose papers strewn across it. A faint smile graced my lips as I was reminiscing. The black coffee maker spit the last of the dark substance into my mug, so I reached into my cabinets and pulled out the essentials. I’ve never been one for pure black coffee, tastes like tar in my opinion. The aftertaste isn’t something that I want to deal with for as long as it’ll last.
I dumped two spoonfuls of sugar into the cup and then poured a dash of liquid creamer in along with it. Stirring the now light brown liquid, I raised the mug to my mouth and took a much needed sip. Sighing as I swallowed, I walked around to the couch in the living. Plopping down, I kicked my feet to rest on top of the coffee table. Leaning back against the cushions, I tried to process what my dream was about.
It was just too real to be a dream, right? It was awfully specific to be a dream. Squinting my eyes, I nodded my head and set my mug on the table. Reaching for my laptop and opening the first browser I could, I searched ‘dream analysis.’ Maybe they’ll have something that can give me an answer as to why it was so clear. Scrolling down the first website, my eyes scanning the bolded letters. Nine Common Dreams and What They Could Mean, oh perfect. Flying, being naked in public, teeth falling out, cheating, none of these are like my dream. I shook my head and swiped out of the website and back to the search engine.
It was late in the morning and the sun was rising to its peak when I finally gave up. It’s obvious what happened though, I’ve gone mental. Absolutely insane, just plain certifiable. No, no, that’s not what it is. My coffee now gone cold, I placed my closed laptop on the coffee table next to the discarded coffee mug. I stood and my head started throbbing. Deciding I would have a better outlook on things without a pounding head, I took a shower. The water was a pleasant, scalding temperature. Leaving the bathroom with my hair in a towel and another wrapped around my body, I changed into a simple pair of ripped mom jeans and an oversized t-shirt. Hanging my towels on the rack in the bathroom, I brushed my teeth and then turned out the light as I left.
Today was my one day off of work this week and I was going to savor it. Slipping on a pair of ratty sneakers and grabbing my purse from the hook next to the door, I left my cozy apartment. I locked the door and shoved my keys all the way to the bottom of my purse. I left my building with the intention of trying to shake off the nightmare that I had. To do so, I went into the coffee shop at the end of the block. I pushed the doors open and was greeted with a warm and inviting atmosphere. Dark floors gave way to twinkling lights illuminating the charcoal gray walls. Behind the counter, I make eye contact with the barista and receive a tight-lipped smile from him. “Hi, welcome to Beniot’s Beans. What can I get started for you today?”
I glanced at the chalkboard menu and ran my eyes over it quickly. I already knew what I wanted, but I needed to prepare myself to say it out loud. “Hello, can I get a medium caramel iced coffee to go, please?” I rocked back and forth on the balls of my feet as he scribbled my order onto the clear plastic cup. He told me my total as I looted in my wallet for my bills. After placing the money in the register, he explained that they would call my order when it was ready. I nodded and walked off to find somewhere to sit that was out of the way. After situating myself on one of the comfortable armchairs, I pulled my phone out in an effort to discourage human interaction. After retrieving my order from the counter, I sat back down in the armchair, trying to decide what to do next. The hour was just rolling over to being almost lunchtime, which made me realize that I hadn’t eaten anything yet. Shrugging my purse back onto my shoulder and shoving my phone into it, I left the store throwing a small wave to the barista behind the counter.
Sighing contentedly, I made the trek back to my apartment while steadily drinking the iced coffee. Some people say coffee shouldn’t be cold, and then there’s people who have sense. Giggling to myself, I took in my surroundings. Brick buildings lined the small two-way road. The donut shop on the opposite side of the street had two cop cruisers sitting in front of it. The contrasting black and white paint with black lettering outlined in yellow was intimidating. There was no reason for it to be, but there was just an aura of discomfort encapsulating the cars. By this time, I had stopped, slurping on my almost empty iced coffee. Breaking out of my trance with a ring of a bell, four officers exited the donut shop. Two of the officers held off-white cardboard boxes, they were all laughing at something. I tilted my head and scrunched my brows, guess the stereotype about cops is true, they love their donuts. Sensing a stare, one of the officers looked around for the source. Eventually, our gazes locked and he winked. Uh, ew. Making a face, I shook my head and went about my way back to my apartment.
Despite that experience, it was nice to be able to have no specific agenda, just relaxing and going with the flow. My inner monologue stopped when I got to my kitchen and started deciding what to prepare for lunch. Finally landing on a box of macaroni and cheese to satisfy my hunger, I set to work. The pot of water now on the stove, I tossed my empty plastic cup from the coffee shop into the garbage bin. I went around to my living room and grabbed my coffee mug from earlier and placed it in the sink, after rinsing it out. I’ll wash that and the stuff I use for lunch after I finish eating. I dumped the box of uncooked noodles into the now boiling water. Soon, the macaroni was ready to be eaten, so I poured the cheesy noodles into a bowl. Hoisting myself onto the granite countertop, I began to inhale the food. Wow, okay I was hungrier than I thought. It didn’t take long to finish off the noodles. As I was washing the dirty dishes, the intercom system of the apartment went off. Weird, I wasn’t expecting anyone. “Who is it?” I inquired into the speaker box. “Hi, I’m looking for the inhabitant of this flat.”
My brows furrowing, I asked again, “Who is this?”
“Ma’am, please don’t waste my time or yours. Is this the woman who lives in this apartment, yes or no?” They sounded exhausted. “I need to speak with the woman who lives here.” I was shocked, this didn’t seem right. Alright, I’m a woman living alone in an apartment building. Some stranger comes to my building, asking to speak to me, so what do I do?
“Uh, yeah they’re not here. You’ll have to come back later.” The lie was easy. Safety first and all, right? There was no reply after waiting a few minutes, so I went back to doing my dishes. After drying and putting them away, I kicked my shoes off and settled into my couch with a fluffy blue throw. Flicking the TV on, I picked the home improvement channel. I stretched out on the couch while wondering how realtor Bessie May was going to find this couple the perfect home. Snuggling further into the pillows, I was able to drift off into a dreamless slumber.
*********************************
It was loud banging that eventually roused me. Untangling myself from the fluff that wrapped around my legs, I toppled onto the floor. “I’m coming, hold your horses!” I shouted at the door. Who the hell? I swear if it’s my crazy neighbor again. “Marge! If this is you, we are going to have a problem!” I huffed my way to the door and yanked it open to reveal a group of men in what looked like dark tactical gear. Confusion overtook my facial features. I took a step back and tightened my grip on my door knob.
“Um… hi? Can I help you?” I questioned the group at large.
“Ma’am, we’re looking for the permanent resident of this apartment.” The man to my left said. He was short and stocky, he was also the only man wearing a dark gray suit. “Are you the permanent resident of this unit?” He continued while trying to see over my shoulders and into the living room.
“No, they’re not here right now.” I repeated the lie from earlier. I had an inkling this had to do with that, what else could it be?
“Well, do you know when she’ll be back?” He pressed, still stealing glances into my abode.
“No, she didn’t say. You’ll have to come back later. Goodbye.” I stated while closing the door. I was almost home free until a combat boot clad foot was stuck into the door frame.
“You see ma’am, this really isn’t the time to be lying to me.” The suited man explained. I took a deep breath and continued trying to close the door.
“Well, I’ve already told you all I know. The person who owns this place isn’t here right now.” The door was stopped yet again by the same foot.
“Ma’am, you need to invite us inside. We have things to discuss.” Suits ordered.
My brows raised, “Or what?” I scoffed, “Look you need to leave before I call the police. Good day to you gentlemen.” Another attempt to close the door was once again defeated, but this time the door swung in. Allowing entrance into my apartment. My eyes widened and I rushed away from the door, putting as much distance between the group of men and myself.
“What the hell are you doing! I’m calling the police.” I reached for my phone that was laying on the coffee table. It was snatched away from me by a man in tactical gear. His hair was cropped and dark, he slipped my phone into one of the many pockets of his vest. I raised my eyebrows at the man, and began demanding my phone from him.
“Listen ma’am, we’re going to need you to come with us.” Suits insisted. My gaze darted to him, if looks could kill man. “We’re allowing you the privilege of getting a bag of your necessities.” I took a deep breath, trying to calm my ever rising nerves. I brought the heels of my palms to my eyes, trying to clear the fogginess of sleep to process what Suits was saying. “We don’t have all day. Get your stuff now.” I shook my head and started refusing.
“Yeah, that won’t be happening. I’m asking you one last time to leave my apartment before I start screaming.” I crossed my arms over my chest in a protective stance. They’ve got five seconds before I raise hell. Suits made a face that looked like he was disappointed.
“Grab her.” The man who took my phone advanced at me. His whole hand covered my upper arm, lifting it and beginning to drag me to the door. I started kicking out, clawing, trying to make contact with anything that I could hurt. Damage, don’t stop fighting. Don’t give in. Whipping my upper body around, I managed to scratch the man's cheek. He cried out in pain and his grip loosened for just a moment. Long enough for me to wrench my arm away from him and run towards the front door. My path was interrupted by a wall of a man. Towering over me, he wrapped both of his arms around my torso. Effectively stopping all of my movement while he turned me in his grasp to face Suits once again.
“Help! Someone help me! Help me!” This was a quiet enough building, shouts like that would surely gain someone’s attention, right? “Help! Someone help me, please!” I was screaming my throat sore. Not stopping until there was a large hand placed over my mouth. Even then, there were muffled cries that could be heard throughout my otherwise silent apartment unit. Stifled sobs were leaving my lungs in heaves. Suits approached me and shook his head,
“It really didn’t have to be like this but, of course.” He turned to one of his goons and nodded his head towards me. I began screaming again as the final goon stepped forward. His hair was slicked back and I could smell the hair gel that he must have just dipped his head into. Hair Gel reached into his pocket and brought out a small white case.
He unzipped the case and gestured to the mass of a man behind me. My head was moved to expose my neck, I struggled against Mass while Hair Gel approached. Screaming and thrashing trying to disrupt what I thought was about to happen. Hair Gel assembled a syringe, outfitting it with a blue capped needle. Hair Gel extracted a clear liquid into the syringe, he got closer to my jolting body, glaring at Mass.
“Hold her still, you buffoon.” He grunted at Mass. The grip around me began cutting off my circulation to the lower half of my body. Not deterring me in any way, I still made it as hard as I could for Hair Gel. There was a pinch on the side of my neck, and then a warm feeling passed through my body. Mass’s hand was still covering my mouth and his arms around my torso, if it weren’t for that I probably would’ve fallen straight to the ground. Oh hell man, what am I going to do now?
My body went limp in Mass’s hold, and my mind was starting to become fuzzy. Looking around at the three men in front of me, I worried what was going to happen. I’ve seen Taken. I know what happens to girls who travel alone. That kind of stuff doesn’t happen to people like me. Suits sighed yet again, looking disinterested in the whole affair. Suits looked to the man who I scratched and shook his head at him.
“You seriously let her get her hands on you?” Suits mocked, “That’s pathetic, Gomez.”
“Pathetic? She was clawing me, man!” The man, Gomez, defended.
“It doesn’t matter, you idiot. You still aren’t supposed to let it happen.” Suits berated Gomez and then waved him off, “Go get the stuff. And don’t mess it up this time, ya got that?” Gomez rolled his eyes at Suits, but nodded anyway. He left the room towards my bedroom. My eyelids started drooping, I willed them to stay open a bit longer.
“How long’s it gonna take that stuff to kick in?” Suits asked Hair Gel.
“Oh, it starts working immediately.” Hair Gel finished replacing everything in his white case, turning to me, he continued, “The body reacts to the compound right away, inducing temporary paralysis. It’s really quite remarkable to watch it in action.”
Suits glanced at Hair Gel, “You mean to tell me it doesn’t make them unconscious? What the hell did I bring you along for?”
“Of course it makes the victim unconscious, what do you think I’m stupid or something? It just takes a couple of minutes for the enzyme to break down for the brain.” Hair Gel tilted his head while looking at me. He gave me a once over and if I had any kind of control over my body, there would’ve been an unmistakable shiver that passed through my body. Gomez emerged with a duffle in tow and dumped the closed bag on the couch.
“Don’t forget the laptop, Gomez.” Suits reminded him while his attention was on the kitchen of my apartment. “Alright, let’s go.” With the effort it takes to lift a feather, Mass carried me bridal style out of my unit. My eyelids were becoming even more heavy and I screamed and shouted in my head, but my mouth just wouldn’t move. The four men made their way out, passing my crazy neighbor Marge.
“Can I help you boys with something?” Marge’s door was open, and she leaned up against the frame, watching this scene go down.
“Nothing to be worried about ma’am. This is official government business.” Suits reported, simply shrugging off Marge.
“Government business?” Marge shrieked, and a glimmer of hope flashed in my head. Marge won’t fall for your bullshit Suits. She’s going to save me. “I always knew there was something off about that one.” What the hell, Marge?
“Like I said ma’am, nothing to worry about. Now if you would, just go back inside. We’re done here.” Suits advised. Marge, who was none the wiser, bounced her shoulders and turned back into her own unit. She could be heard through the door explaining to her guests that her next door neighbor was always strange and never really sat right with her.
“Doesn’t surprise me they’re taking her away. I always knew something was off about that girl. I told you so.” Marge howled with laughter after her statement. My last hope dashed by my crazy neighbor’s complete ignorance and lack of acknowledgement for her surroundings. Mass began his descent of the stairs with a steady pace. The constant rocking back and forth of his body weight served to lull my eyelids the rest of the way closed.
81 notes · View notes
caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma · 4 years ago
Text
Peripheral 7.5
Tumblr media
Pairings: OT7 x reader; Taehyung x reader; Taehyung x Jimin
Series Summary:  An unfortunate accident leaves Kim Namjoon with amnesia, and Big Hit, BTS, ARMY, and the entire world is desperate to help him regain his memories and knowledge. Fortunately, a new genetics company has successfully created a system to alter our brains into human databases which can help someone regain knowledge and memories through a simple input/output exchange. Can this new invention give us back our beloved leader?
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Idol AU
Word Count: 2K+
Warnings: NSFW 18+ Cursing, oral (female receiving), teasing, groping, bisexual overtones
Word Count: 2K+
Taehyung POV
All that skin...so soft, so smooth, so pretty…
Y/N’s thighs were rubbing together slightly and her hips lifted off the mattress as she released a barely audible moan. The oversized RJ shirt covering her body shifted further and further up her thighs and Taehyung licked his lips at every inch that was revealed before him.
“Tae,” she breathed out. “Please, touch me.”
Taehyung groaned at the needy tone in her voice and palmed himself over his pajama pants. The impressive tent he was rocking was barely contained behind the thin fabric. Y/N’s seductive movements caused his dick to twitch to life with a copious amount of precum pooling on his pajama pants,
Probably should’ve worn underwear.
Y/N reached out and pulled on Taehyung’s forearm, encouraging him to get closer to the bed. As soon as his thighs made contact with the edge of the mattress, Y/N was already trying to pull him onto the bed.
“Y/N-noona,” Taehyung chastised playfully. “You should be resting.”
“Rest with me, Tae-Tae,” she pleaded sweetly. “Come on, I’ll let you be the big spoon.”
Taehyung looked around the room in search of another person, but alas, Yoongi was nowhere to be seen, even though Taehyung could swear his hyung was just in the room a moment ago. Now, it was just him and Y/N.
Big spoon, little spoon.
There was a seven second pause before Taehyung released an exhale full of excitement and climbed onto the bed, hovering over Y/N’s barely clad body. The RJ on the shirt slowly morphed into a Tata graphic, and Taehyung was incredibly pleased.
It’s not just about being cute, it’s about being unique.
“Tae,” Y/N sighed. “I need you.”
“Do you now?” Taehyung grinned. “Where do you need me, beautiful?”
Y/N’s smile increased in brightness as she reached down to remove the oversized T-shirt from her body. The golden skin that was revealed nearly blinded Taehyung as he drank in every centimeter of her glorious body. His breath caught as she lowered one hand down her stomach and straight into her dripping folds. Taehyung gulped as her fingers split into a V shape to reveal her swollen jewel hidden in the folds. It glistened enticingly in the dim lamplight of the room, and Taehyung felt his throat dry up in response.
“I need you right here, Tae-Tae,” Y/N purred. “Be a good boy and help me out, yeah? Are you my good boy?"
"Fuck yeah, you know I am," Taehyung responded gruffly. "I'm a good boy, I swear."
“Show me how good you are, Tae,” Y/N pleaded. “Show me what that silver tongue can do.”
Taehyung happily situated himself between Y/N’s legs and started licking, kissing, and nibbling his way to her flushed core. The trails of arousal he swiped away with his tongue just made his dick ache even more.
She’s fucking delicious.
Once Taehyung’s lips made contact with Y/N’s hidden jewel, she released the most incredible sound from her throat. It was airy and light and full of passion and sweetness. Taehyung wanted to record it and play it on repeat so he could always have it bouncing around his ear drums. Every erotic moan she released just increased his desire to have more of her in his mouth, in his ears, in his world.
He dragged his tongue across every millimeter of her sex, not allowing a single drop to go to waste. The more he licked and slurped, the wetter she became, and the flavor of musky fruit pirouetted along his taste buds delightfully. Y/N’s essence rivaled the most exotic fruits and Taehyung was lost in the extravagant taste on his palate.
How can one person be this unbelievably sweet?
“Tae,” Y/N groaned. “Kiss me.”
Taehyung placed one last lingering kiss on her glistening lips before traveling to the ones above. He slotted himself between her legs and allowed his girthy erection to nestle on top of her throbbing sex. She hissed out of sensitivity, but the fabric was so soft that it wasn’t causing any discomfort. With measured precision, Taehyung dipped his lips to capture Y/N’s and he began languidly teasing her with small kisses and playful tongue flicks.
Y/N’s hand slid between their bodies to grasp Taehyung’s warm length over his pajama pants and he groaned as soon as she applied any pressure to his turgid length. Her delicate hands stroked him up and down while he continued drawing small whines and moans from Y/N’s mouth. The numerous rings on her hand confused him at first because he didn’t remember her wearing much jewelry, but he quickly dismissed the thought when Y/N sucked especially hard on his bottom lip. He moaned out in response and pushed his cock harder into her ring clad grip.
“Tae,” Y/N gasped as his lips traveled across her jaw and to her neck. “Ah, Tae.”
“That’s right, beautiful,” Taehyung whispered. “Say my name.”
She continued to chant his name in a hushed, breathy voice and her hand tightened around his shaft, causing him to groan and buck forward against her upper thigh. Taehyung nipped at her earlobe and made his way back to her lips, which were fuller than he remembered. In fact, they seemed to have doubled in size in the last few minutes. He sucked on the bottom one, puzzled by its plush texture.
What’s going on? Am I imagining things?
Y/N’s other hand traveled into his hair and pulled gently on the golden locks, desperate to recapture his attention.
“Tae,” Y/N whined cutely. “Why aren’t you touching me?”
Taehyung chuckled at the pout evident in her tone and he lowered one of his hands to palm her plump ass. It was unbelievably firm and warm in his palm and he used his leverage to rut against her even more, drawing more breathy moans out of her with every shallow thrust. As a matter of fact, her ass felt firmer than he thought it would.
Weird, but nice. She’s got a dancer’s ass.
“Tae,” Y/N squeaked out. “Tae, Tae,”
“What is it, beautiful?” Taehyung grunted as his pushed himself against her bare sex. “Do you want me to put it in? Tell me you want my thick cock inside of you. Say the word and it’s all yours.”
“No, Tae,” Y/N’s voice deepened slightly. “I want you to wake up.”
Did she just say she wanted me to wake up?
“Wake up, Tae,” Y/N persisted while stroking him. “Wake up.”
Taehyung wrinkled his forehead in confusion and took a moment to clear his lust-crazed mind. Her voice didn’t sound the same. It was almost like she sounded like someone else, someone he knew very well.
It couldn’t be his voice. That’s impossible.
As he pulled his face up from Y/N’s neck, he was pleased at the bright pink blossom he’d left behind, but that elation was short lived as he looked down and realized Y/N was no longer beneath him.
“Taehyungie,” Jimin smirked up at him. “Wake up.”
-----------------
Abruptly, Taehyung lifted his head and realized that he was still on the couch in the living room. He glanced at the lap he was in and repressed the urge to yelp. He looked up and realized that Jimin was giving him the strangest look and he gulped nervously before pulling himself into a sitting position, grabbing a pillow to cover the erection begging to be released from the confines of his pajama pants. He took a moment to collect his thoughts before he met Jimin’s curious eyes. As soon as he did, he immediately hoped that he hadn’t done anything to Jimin to hint at what his dreams consisted of.
“Are you ok, Taehyungie?” Jimin asked sweetly, while scooting closer to him. “You looked like you were having a nightmare. You kept moaning and moving against the couch. Was something chasing you?”
After releasing a nervous giggle, Taehyung shook his head and breathed out a sigh of relief. Jimin lifted a hand to rub at Taehyung’s shoulder, trying to ease the tension he could see tormenting his soulmate. Fortunately, Jimin didn’t seem to have a clue about what just occurred in Taehyung’s dream, so it appeared as though he was in the clear.
“I’m ok, Jiminie,” Taehyung assured his soulmate. “Just a weird dream, that’s all.”
Still though...what the hell was that all about?
Footsteps were heard coming from the hallway, and Yoongi appeared at the threshold looking less pissed than before. His facial expression gave off a serious vibe, but his eyes were sparkling with contentment.
Oh man, something happened between him and Y/N, I just know it.
“Hey, guys,” Yoongi greeted them with a sigh. “I’m sorry about my harsh words earlier, but I was really worried that we’d harmed our guest and it really upset me. I apologize if I hurt any of your feelings, but I didn’t want Y/N to have a bad impression of us. She’s only been here a few days, and we haven’t been taking care of her properly.”
Everyone offered up an apology at once and Taehyung almost missed Jimin’s hand slipping down and under the pillow on his lap. Delicate ringed fingers slid over the hardened outline of his erection over his pajama pants and Taehyung resisted the urge to yelp. His head snapped over to look at Jimin, but Taehyung found the cherubim's eyes locked onto Yoongi.
What the fuck are you doing, Jimin?
Yoongi lifted his hands and quieted everyone down and then leaned against the kitchen counter to look at them.
“Yoongi-hyung,” Jungkook piped up. “Is Noona ok?”
“Yes, Jungkookie,” Yoongi smiled softly. “She’s awake and she’s ok. She used some machine to run some tests on herself, but we have to wait for the results. Whatever fever she had earlier is gone now, but she’s feeling a little weak. She will probably be in bed all day.”
“Can we go in and talk to her now, Yoongi-hyung?” Hoseok asked. “Would she be ok with that?”
“I told her that you needed to talk to her and she’s waiting for you now,” Yoongi replied. “Visiting hours are open, but please, only go in a few at a time. I don’t want to overwhelm her.”
“Hobi-hyung and I will go first,” Jungkook spoke up. “We want to tell her about the weird stuff that’s been happening.”  
Taehyung was about to speak up, but Jimin’s hand retreated from his lap and he was momentarily distracted.
“You guys go ahead,” Jimin suggested. “Taehyungie and I will go in and see her after you’re done. If we all take turns, she won’t have to be alone unless she wants to.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Yoongi agreed. “Where’s Jin? Still sulking?”
“I sent him to his room,” Hoseok explained. “I told him he’s grounded until we find out more information from Bang PD-nim.”
“Ok,” Yoongi nodded. “I’m going to go shower and change while you two visit. It’s been a long morning and I’m exhausted. Tell Y/N that I’ll be back to bring her something to eat after I’m done.”
With that, Yoongi turned around and made a beeline for his room and Hoseok and Jungkook followed him into the hallway, heading to the end of the hall to Y/N’s room.
Left alone, Taehyung readjusted himself on the couch as Jimin turned sideways and stared at him with a neutral expression on his face. The living room was eerily quiet and Taehyung zoned out listening to the sound of the air conditioning kicking on once again.
“So,” Jimin’s voice broke through the tension in the room. “Do you want to tell me why you were dry humping the couch while nuzzling my dick earlier, Taehyungie?”
Taehyung inhaled too quickly at Jimin’s sudden question and ended up coughing uncontrollably. When he was finally able to speak, he met Jimin’s fiery gaze and gasped at the seductive grin blooming on his face.
Fuck...
Tumblr media
Author’s Note: I finally got back to this story again. I’m hitting a stride with the plot and I am going to start working on the next big chapter since I already have most of it outlined. Things are getting a little sticky in the VMin corner, and I think the dynamics of their relationship are finally evening out. Should make the next couple of chapters very interesting. Thank you to @xxxille-girlxxx​, my gorgeous Goguma, for Beta reading this for me. Borahae, soulmate!
Previous Chapter - Next Chapter
PERIPHERAL MASTERLIST
Caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma’s MASTERLIST
30 notes · View notes
catflorist · 4 years ago
Text
The Garden (ao3 / ffn) catflorist Summary: SasuSaku. Sasuke left Konoha for a cottage in the woods. One day, Sakura arrives injured at his doorstep. They recall their past and think about what comes next. Slow burn, post-canon, about how Sasuke and Sakura grew close again. Rated T through Chapter 5, then M. 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7
The Garden  Chapter 2
True to the instincts of a traveling shinobi on constant alert, the instant Sakura opened her eyes in the morning light she was awake.
She spotted a pitcher of water and a wooden cup beside her bed, next to a platter of bread and a selection of fruit. Sitting up, the water was down her throat before she could even think. She filled the cup again and drank slower this time, testing out her limbs one by one. The location of her old wound was smooth as if it hadn’t been open and bleeding half a day before. Except for an ache in her skull, not a whisper of pain remained in her body.
After quenching her thirst, Sakura reached for the food and began chewing. Her eyes fell upon a third offering next to her bedside: a folded pile of clothes. Her skin twitched under its layer of grime, dirt, and blood. She vowed to bathe before dressing in the clean clothes.
Basic needs met, Sakura shifted her attention to her surroundings. The interior of the cottage was small, with tall ceilings, and built in the traditional style. Except for hand-carvings decorating the door and window frames, there were no frills. Leaves pressed up against windows and morning light dappled the room. The sound of nearby moving water and the smell of dried wood soothed her senses.
Sakura sorted through the clothes Sasuke had left. There were loose pants and a shirt that were clearly his. A rough bar of soap. He had even thought of underthings: a pair of cropped shorts, wrappings for her chest snatched from a medical kit and coiled in a careful bundle. Heat prickled her cheeks as she eyed the last two items.
The events of yesterday filtered through her mind. She stilled, remembering the sensation of Sasuke’s chakra coursing through her, healing her. The soft weight of his hand on her skin.
Sakura could not believe she was here. Part of her had expected never to see Sasuke again.
Sakura couldn’t help it: she thought back to months ago, before he decided to leave the village for the third time.
* * * *
Once Sakura learned how to read the signs of Sasuke’s friendship, they were everywhere.
As Genin, after her one-sided infatuation with Sasuke had transformed into mutual respect and understanding, she learned the subtle ways in which he expressed his affection. He always listened when she spoke, even if he sometimes only responded with silence, a grunt, or a rare smirk. When it was his turn to cook on Team Seven missions, he reserved the crispy crust of rice at the bottom of the pot—the okoge—for her. She could never recall informing him of this preference. As they learned how to fight, he corrected her form and technique without mercy, but scowled at Naruto if he also commented on Sakura’s performance. Racked with the pain of Orochimaru’s curse mark during the Chunin exams, he had reached desperately for her hand and squeezed.
She could never reconcile these old memories of Sasuke with the memories of him that gave her nightmares. Those jerked her out of sleep, shaking and convinced he was still pressing a kunai blade to her neck.
When Sasuke returned to the village after his period of wandering, they had both grown and changed. As Genin on Team Seven, common experiences, hopes, and fears united them.
Now they were both adults, each defined by experiences and efforts that were unknown to the other. They had been enemies. Sakura didn’t know how to be around him anymore.
Sakura left the hospital late one night.
In the cool night air, her heart leap with joy and pride. Another group of students training under her in medical ninjutsu had graduated that day and joined her growing cohort. Sakura was committed to Tsunade’s dream of lowering the mortality rate on missions by dispatching a medical-nin with each team. Slowly but surely, she was increasing the number of shinobi in the village with medical knowledge.
Sasuke rounded the corner of the empty street. Sakura nearly jumped. She was still not used to the sight of him in the village. He had returned to Konoha a month ago in the spring. They had not spoken much.
He nodded at her, acknowledging her presence. She nodded back. That concluded the normal extent of their interactions. But Sakura was in a good mood, so she called, “You’re out late tonight.”
Sasuke raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re one to talk,” he observed. He continued walking.
Sakura squinted at his back. She kept waiting to detect the familiar note of contempt in this voice. She had yet to do so. This was also new.
*
Sasuke didn’t sleep much these days. His body still craved the movement and discomfort of constant travel. After dark, he wandered the streets of the village until exhaustion came.
On one of these nights, Sakura stood on the steps of the hospital as he passed by. He wasn’t shocked to see her here so late—talk of her accomplishments expanding the Konoha medical system were everywhere since he came back to the village.
Sakura was different. This was already clear when they fought briefly together during the war. Back then she had stunned him on the battlefield with the full extent of her strength and power. She had grown fierce and confident. Holding back no emotion, she lashed out at him in passionate anger. She cried over his wounded body and healed him without hesitating. She asked him not to go. She did not accept his apology.
Now, all of Sakura’s strong feelings seemed to be gone. She did not avoid him when they crossed paths, but she did not seek him out.
A clear joy marked her face tonight. For a moment, there was no difference between Sakura now and the Sakura he knew as a child. A part of Sasuke stilled, realizing how little of herself she showed to him now. It was just a fact. He was not allowed to have an opinion on the matter.
She greeted him.
Later, Sasuke felt light in his bed. He slept.  
*
If a third party like Naruto had initiated the contact, Sakura and Sasuke politely spent time together. It seemed one commonality they still shared was a penchant to please Naruto.
To Naruto’s clear delight, his friendship with Sasuke had picked up without skipping a beat. The two of them fell back into their friendly competitiveness. They sparred for hours on end. They bickered with what might closely be described as affection. Sakura had even seen Naruto tease a smile out of Sasuke. Despite her guardedness towards Sasuke, Sakura softened in those moments. She did want him to be happy.
Naruto had dragged a group to Ichiraku’s. Lee wept solemn tears over a portrait that Sai had presented to him. Hinata, Ino, and Choji watched horrified as Naruto slurped ramen at a frightening speed. Sasuke was there.
Sakura was in a bad mood.
“Is it Ito-sama again?” Naruto asked, watching Sakura slam her bowl down, sloshing broth on the counter.
Sakura glanced around Ichiraku’s to make sure it was just them.
She let out a deep breath. “He won’t increase my training budget,” Sakura complained. Ito-sama on the village council praised her for training the next generation of medical shinobi yet refused her the resources she needed to do her work. It was infuriating. “I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do.”
“Maybe it’s because your hair is getting too long. You could cut it again,” Ino suggested.
The others laughed, recalling Sakura’s dramatic haircut during the Chunin exams years ago. It was funny precisely because the moment illustrated Sakura’s creativity and determinism in the face of a challenge. They knew she would find a way out of this bind.
 “Get your scissors, Ino,” Choji called.
“Don’t think I won’t do it again,” Sakura kindly threatened the group.
“I’m afraid for the council,” Naruto gulped. He clung to Hinata.
Amid the banter, Sasuke’s eyes met hers, wary and watchful.
Half-asleep in bed that night, she remembered Sasuke’s reaction. In the moment, she found it odd. Another thought occurred to her now.
Sasuke lacked the context of their conversation. He didn’t know the details of Sakura’s recent work lobbying the council. He was not familiar with Ino’s language of teasing.
He only knew the shared memory. In the same fight where Sakura had sliced off her own hair, Sasuke released the dark power of his curse mark against the people who hurt her. He had done this to protect her. It was also the first step he had taken away from her. The first moment he had tasted the power that tempted him away from the village.
It was possible he wanted to see whether she had been upset.
Sakura was wide awake.
*
Sakura sat on the steps of the hospital. The moon was up high. She had just recruited a new cohort of students and stayed late to finalize the details. She was exhausted.
When Sasuke rounded the corner, irritation ticked in her stomach.
Her indifference to him faltered then. “Leaving again?” she jested, even though it was clear he was taking a walk. How dare he disturb her solitude when all she wanted was to be alone?
How dare he worry whether she was upset?
Sasuke halted. He didn’t scowl, but he was not happy.
Sakura felt calm. This was familiar territory. She prepared for his retort.
Then his features shifted. He grunted a short, “No.”
Sakura let up.
“All right,” she sighed. “Good night.”
He stood silent for a while. Sakura’s brow furrowed. She could never tell what he was thinking.
Head turned away, Sasuke finally said, “Good night, Sakura.”
*
It was the middle of summer. Sakura was busy. When she wasn’t teaching her team, she worked to establish policies at the academy and hospital that made medical training mandatory in the teaching of all shinobi. She fought with the village council. She also worked her regular shifts at the hospital. And trained her own abilities. Naruto wailed at her busy schedule and started inviting himself over to her apartment in the evenings.
“It’s important to spend time together, Sakura-chan,” he insisted, arriving unannounced at her door the first time. “You’re too busy.”
She loved the time with Naruto. He sometimes brought Ichiraku take-out, or instant-ramen which he enhanced with poorly chopped green onions. In return she coaxed him to eat her health-conscious meals. Sometimes Ino or Hinata joined, or members of the medical team that Sakura trained.
Then one day Naruto brought Sasuke.
The first time, she struggled to keep a straight face when she saw him at the door behind Naruto.
At the door, Naruto exclaimed, “Whatever you’re cooking smells great! Oh, yeah, I thought it was about time we had Sasuke over! That’s okay, right Sakura-chan?”
“I thought she knew we were coming,” Sasuke mumbled to Naruto, who was already bounding past them and removing his shoes.
“Oh.” Sakura said. “Well—”
Sasuke glanced down the hallway. Sakura realized he was waiting for her cue. One downward shift of the mouth or brow and he would go.
On a different night, on many nights, Sakura might have given him that cue, and he would have left.
“—the rice is almost ready,” Sakura finished. She opened the door wider.
Tonight, she didn’t want him to leave.
Sasuke paused, then crossed into the apartment.
It was strange to see him in the same landscape where she lived her daily life. He sat on the couch next to Naruto, head turned to read the titles on her bookshelf. Naruto’s friendliness and chatter kept silence and Sakura’s nerves at bay. Though Sasuke had never been a conversationalist, he was listening. And when nudged enough, he chipped in.
Naruto was laughing. “Sakura, you always had the best chakra control out of all of us. I couldn’t believe it when you first walked up that tree.”
Sakura smiled, remembering the feeling of chakra pooling on the soles of her feet for the first time. As natural as breathing, she ran up the bark of that tall tree into the sky. Her world had changed.
“Sasuke was so mad!” Naruto shoved Sasuke with his shoulder. “You had to ask me how she did it.”
Sakura didn’t know this.
“You weren’t a very good teacher,” Sasuke grumbled in response.
For the first time that evening, Sakura let her gaze rest on Sasuke for longer than a polite glance. He was busy scowling at Naruto. The tips of his ears were pink.
“Maybe,” Sakura retorted, “you should have asked me first.”
The corners of Sasuke’s mouth twitched.
“Maybe I should have,” he answered. His quiet voice contained a tease.
The night had gone well.
* * * *
Sakura’s eyes refocused. She picked up the bundle of clothes, slid open the door to outside, and followed the sound of the water.
*
*
*
*
32 notes · View notes
morgana-ren · 6 years ago
Note
Yoooo! If you’re still taking requests, can I get a Short where maybe a “mom friend” member of the league takes care of them, and it’s super fluffy and cute? Shiggy or Dabi would be great!
Oh man, while I’m super happy to get a request for some fluff, I’m SUPER bad at it, so I apologize in advance for that. Also, the timeline here is SUPER fucked up. I’m not caught up on the manga, but for my idea to work, Kurogiri is gone and they’re living in an abandoned building together. Magne is there, because I love her. I don’t know if all 3 of those go together, but they do here. I tried my best! I hope it’s okay! I went with the shigman cause I’m still learning Dabi.
Tumblr media
“Oh, I’m so hungry! How much longeruntil it’s done?” Magne whined, clutching her stomach. A deep frownsettled on her face, eyebrows hiked up high on her face as she eyeddown the stew pot that was currently settled over a large fire. “Iswear I could eat a horse!”
“It smells so good too!” Togamused, twirling a small blade between her deft fingers. She satcasually on a dusty sofa with a pleasant expression, but it wasevident with the way she kept running her tongue over her fangs andstaring longingly at the pot just how starved she really was.
You gave them both a small smile,lightly tapping a small vial of spice into the mixture as you stirredit. “It’s almost done. The meat is nearly cooked, and I promiseit’ll be worth the wait when you taste the vegetables. They were alittle stale, so it’s better to let them absorb all the flavor.” 
“You two should be more gracious. Their cooking is farbetter than anything we’ve scavenged or stolen in weeks.” Mr.Compress chided them, gesturing at the pile of discarded wrappers inthe garbage can. “There is nothing quite like a home cooked meal,and I, for one, am eternally thankful.” He bowed deeply at you,ever theatrical. A small flush washed over your cheeks, andyou raised a hand and scratched the back of your head in slightembarrassment. “It’s nothing really. I wish I could make somethingbetter for everyone, but I was only able to acquire a few packs ofmeat, and I had to throw out a lot of the vegetables we stole. A lotof them had already gone bad, but I was able to salvage enough thatthis should feed everyone, at least for today. I’ll figure somethingout for the rest of the week, though. Don’t worry.”
“I miss Kurogiri.” Spinner sighed,head cradled in his hands as he sat in the corner. “There wasalways food at the bar.”
Your spirit fell a little at hiscomment. You’d tried to take up the role of caretaker to the Leaguein Kurogiri’s absence. You knew you weren’t him, and you didn’t havethe connections or the experience he had, but you were trying. Thingshad been a nightmare for them lately, and it was taking a toll.They’d been reduced to raiding garbage cans or stealing to feedthemselves, and the makeshift hideout definitely didn’t have the samecomfort level that the bar had.
You had done your best to make itsomewhat homey, putting together a team effort to scavenge for bedsand basic comfort items. With a little help, you had even managed torig up some plumbing and electricity so that everyone could stayclean and have light. It wasn’t great, but it was the best you coulddo under the circumstances.
“You all sure complain a lot forvillains.” Dabi had stretched out on a ratty sofa with multicoloredcushions, arms crossed behind his head. “You act like you’ve neverbeen homeless before.”
He seemed the most indifferent to thesituation. Going with the flow, sleeping on beds, sofas, or mustyfloors with little to no complaint. He ate when there was food, andslept when there wasn’t. You assumed that living like this wasnothing new to him. Sometimes he disappeared for hours on end,returning at absurd hours of the night with his clothing singed andashy and smelling of death. You never asked what he did.
“It’s pathetic.” He continued. “Ifyou fall apart every time things get a little rough, you’ll nevermake it, and you might as well leave.”
The room fell quiet, contemplating hiswords. Was the pain of hunger, discomfort, and dirt enough to breakthe spirit of the League?
“Dabi is right!” Toga broke thesilence. “Things aren’t so bad! Let’s quit being such downers!”She jumped up from her spot, smiling as she began spinning excitedlyaround the room. Twice winced, pushing himself further into the wallto avoid her blade which was slicing the air as she made her wayaround the immediate area. After a few seconds, she slowed to a stop,staring at you with a loving yet deranged expression as she tappedthe hilt of her weapon with her finger. “I still wish you wouldhave let me cut up the meat though!”
“Himiko, that blade killed a manyesterday, and I’m fairly certain you haven’t cleaned it.” Youshook your head, stirring the pot some more, prodding at the meat.
Pouting, her shoulders shrugged downand her arms dropped to her sides. “It would have given it moreflavor.” A few people around the room gave a disgusted sound, andshe scowled at them in turn.
You chuckled, tapping the spoon on therim a final time. “It’s ready, grab a bowl and come and get some!”
The League lined up excitedly,snatching whatever dishware they could find and hungrily grabbing atthe pot. Everyone with the exception of Dabi, who sauntered overslowly, maintaining his facade of nonchalance. He slowly grabbed thelast bowl and lazily filled it with the stew, taking a few moments tolet it simmer before dipping his fork in.
For a few moments, the room was filledwith the sound of people eating, devouring the meat and vegetablesand slurping down the juices left over. It brought a smile to yourface to see your companions so content, and the atmosphere wasnoticeably lighter as they ate. The cacophony of growling stomachsslowly died down, and everyone settled into a temporary state ofcontentment.
“Oh! It’s so good!” Toga yelled,gulping down the remainder of her bowl. “I’’m so happy you’re mybest friend!” She chucked her bowl into the sink and skipped overto you, giving you an overwhelming bear hug. You hugged her backtentatively, careful to avoid the extremely sharp blades that adornedher outfit. “You’re so cute!” Her face started to turn red,grinning wildly as she clung to you. “We could be as close assisters!”
“Careful Toga, you’re getting workedup. Why don’t you come relax?” Twice noted. “Yeah, relax,girl! Calm down or you might explode!”
Reluctantly, Himiko let you go, huffingwhile she returned to her spot on the sofa and began to sharpen oneof her various knives while everyone else finished up the remainderof their meal. Magne was humming happily as she chewed a bit of meat,toying with a vegetable on her fork. Mr. Compress dabbed politely athis mouth with a napkin. Everyone seemed relaxed, even happy, and itfilled you with a sense of warmth.
Spinner his bowl down beside him,swallowing the last bits. “It was really good, thank you. I feel alot better with a full stomach.”
Everyone nodded in agreement withSpinner, giving small words of praise about your cooking. Dabi saidnothing, but turned his head in your direction and nodded, which inDabi language was as good as a hug. An involuntary smile lifted yourlips and you nodded back.
Some time passed, and everyone settledinto their nightly shenanigans. Toga practiced with her knives,yelling incoherently about her various obsessions every now andagain. Mr. Compress performed various magic tricks for Spinner andTwice, who occasionally tried to guess how he did it, to no avail.Dabi slept on the sofa, snoring quietly with his head buried in hisarms. It was like almost every night they had free when they weren’ttraining or plotting, but something felt wrong.
Your head turned upward, toward thestaircase and the room at the top. It was an average door, but thesense of foreboding was palpable. Everyone knew to keep away. Herarely ever left his room, and it was even rarer that you actuallysaw him these days. He had taken the recent events rather hard, andit made him even more volatile and reclusive than ever. He onlyinteracted when absolutely necessary, and it was almost alwayscombative.
“Hey, has anyone seen Shigarakilately?” You asked apprehensively. It took a few seconds for anyoneto answer, no one wanting to voluntarily participate.
“Hasn’t left his room in days. He’sstill sulking.” Dabi muttered, his words muffled slightly by hissleeve.
“Do you know if he’s eaten orshowered or is even alive?” Chewing your lip, you glanced at thedoor again, and then down at the stew pot. There was still food left,and it technically belonged to him.
“There hasn’t been any dishes in thesink, or any new food in our storage, so I would have to assume not.”Mr. Compress crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. A hush hadfallen over the room at the mention of their temperamental leader.Things had always been tense between the League and Shigarki, withhis fits and horrible temper, but he had gathered their respectenough that they followed him. Things had been getting better, andeveryone had almost been getting along, at least until Kurogiri wastaken. Then his mood had plummeted.
You sighed, pressing your fingersacross your nose. You weighed your options, pretending you didn’talready know what you were going to do. Anxiety welled in your gut,and you took a deep breath. There was a million ways this could go,and frankly, none of them looked particularly positive for you.Still, the League was your family, and if you had to take care of itsdysfunctional leader every now and again, so be it.
You quietly picked up a bowl, fillingit with the stew, grabbing some silverware and a napkin while youwere at it. Slowly, you walked towards the stairs, taking a deepbreath before ascending. A few of the League members looked at eachother with worried expressions, questioning your sanity.
“I don’t know if I would do that,dear.” Magne reached out slightly towards you, lip twisted in ananxious grimace “It’s probably best we leave him alone and let himdeal with this on his own time.”
“He needs to eat.” You persisted.“If he won’t take care of himself on his own, then I’ll make him.”It had been meant to come out much more confidently than you had saidit.
Magne exhaled, looking up at younervously, but retracted her hand. You heard Dabi scoff from hisplace on the sofa, no doubt thinking it would be the last time heever saw you due to your own foolishness. Everyone else just glancedaround uneasily. They didn’t think this was a good idea, not at all,but they knew better than to try and stop you.
You crept up the stairs, carefullybalancing the bowl and dishware in your hands. Trying to make aslittle noise as possible, you gently padded toward the door,gathering all your courage to prepare yourself to knock. If youlistened carefully, you could hear him typing away furiously on acomputer and clicking a little harder than you thought was necessary.There was also the muffled sound of a television, but you doubted hewas paying attention to it. Whatever he was doing, he was incrediblyfocused.
You sucked in a breath, swallowing yourfear and bringing your hand down on his door several times. You heardthe knock echo though his room, but his typing never faltered. Afterseveral moments, you tried again, rapping gently on his door. Still,he ignored you, typing manically. You groaned under your breath,re-situating the bowl in your arms. You understood he was technicallyyour boss, but you didn’t appreciate being ignored.
You knocked again, louder and longerthis time. Panic wormed its way down your limbs, taking a hold ofyour gut as you heard the typing stop. You heard an exasperated sighas he angrily pushed away from his makeshift computer station,footsteps approaching. Each one was loud and deliberate, aforewarning that you had irritated him.
His door opened, only just enough thatyou could see a beady crimson eye zero in on you, narrowed inannoyance. He looked even more tired than usual, deep purple bagslining underneath his eyes with a droopy expression and cheekssunken. He made it clear he wasn’t open to conversation, lip curleddownward in a deep scowl, placing his full body in front of the doorso you couldn’t even see inside.
“What?” His tone was agitated anddrawn out, purposely said in such a way that you felt small andinsignificant. You gulped, despite the fact that you were just tryingto help. You were in uncharted waters here, and it was a very realpossibility that this encounter could end with your death.
“I made food.” You managed to say,although it came out meeker than you would have liked. You lifted upthe bowl to show him, and hopefully tempt him into calming. “Ithought you might like some,”
He eyed it suspiciously for a fewmoments before bringing his eye back up to yours. “Did I say I washungry?”
A feral strike of anger burned throughyou. You knew that Shigaraki could be a spiteful little man-child,but you were just trying to help.
“You haven’t eaten in days, boss.”Keeping your tone even was a bit of a chore. “You need to keep yourstrength up.”
He glowered down at you, chapped lipspursing. “Are you implying I’m weak?”
His three fingered grip on his door waswavering, pinky trembling slightly. Whether it was in anger or lowblood sugar, you weren’t entirely sure. “No. That wasn’t what I wassaying at all. I just think you need to eat is all. I promise it’snot horrible.” You held the dish up for him to grab again, hopinghe’d settle down and just take it.
Staring at it for a moment, you noticedhe was swallowing hard. You were hopeful, until in an instant, hiseyes were burning into yours, face sneering. “Leave. You’re pissingme off.”
He slammed the door in your face,almost causing you to fall backward and spill the contents of thebowl. White hot anger simmered in your stomach, crawling up in yourthroat, and your free hand clenched. He might be the leader of theLeague of Villains, but that gave him no right to treat people likethis. For a moment, your common sense was replaced entirely by yourstubbornness.
You could hear him typing again, andthat only made you more angry. Raising your fist to the door, youknocked even harder, practically pounding on the already decrepitwood. He had obviously resounded to ignore you again, because heshowed no signs of answering. After a few more tries, you decided totry a new approach.
“I’ll sit outside this goddamn doorall night if I have to!” You yelled through the cheap wood, knowingfully that if you could hear him, he could likely hear you. “AndI’ll let you know now that I’m a loud sleeper!”
The typing stopped again, and yourbravado fell with it. You heard him push away from his desk, quietlythis time, and approach the door. He opened it more fully this time,leaning on the frame as he stared at you with a look you couldn’tquite place. He was wearing his typical black on black jeans and top,but his shoes were missing. His hair was messy and tousled, as wellas slightly greasy, like he hadn’t brushed it in several days.
“Why do you insist on annoying me?”Surprisingly, there was no trace of anger in his voice, only seemingcuriosity.
“Because…” You tripped on yourown words. Why were you soset on doing this? “You need to take care of yourself. We all do.And if I can make that a little easier, than I will. Even if it meansannoying you.” A blush blossomed on your face. “I’d rather seeyou healthy and annoyed than unhealthy. And if that means you hateme, then fine.”
For amoment so brief that you could hardly justify believing it at all,you swore you saw his face soften. He eyed you, and then the soup inyour hands, letting his gaze fall on it for too long to not betempted. “If I take the damn food, will you leave?”
You nodded, holding it toward him withthe dishware carefully balanced between you pinky and index finger.You kept your vision on your hands as he took it from you gingerly,four fingers wrapped around the rim with his pinky hoveringcautiously. When you brought your face up, you realized he wasstaring at you, red eyes studying you with a practiced detachment.Your cheeks flushed so hard it was almost painful, and you quicklylooked down at your feet, praying he hadn’t seen. What was thatabout?
“I’llbe back in about an hour for the bowl.” You stammered, trying tocompose yourself. “I hope it’s empty.”
Hedidn’t acknowledge you, just shut the door as you turned and walkedback downstairs. Your comrades were surprised to see you unharmed,let alone alive after impeding on Shigaraki’s private time. Dabi hadlaughed, ruffling his hair with his hand as he said “I guess helikes you better than the rest of us.” You weren’t sure if he wasright, but a small part of you had beamed when he said it.
Youbusied yourself the rest of the night taking care of the dishes,making sure everyone had clean towels and leftover clothing that theycould wear if they chose to shower, and cleaning up the debris anddust that littered the hideout. Little by little, it was coming tolook more like an actual homeand less like an abandoned building. Slowly, the group in the frontroom began to dwindle as they went off to bed, the hour growing laterand later. By the time you realized just how sleepy you were, themoon was high in the sky, darkness encompassing the entire horizon.
Youlooked up toward Shigaraki’s room. He had taken the food, there’s noreason he wouldn’t have eaten it. But still, he still had the dish inhis room, and Shigaraki could be very unpredictable. He’d beexpecting you, right? You told him you’d be back. Might as well gograb the dish so that you could wash it and retire for the night.
Youtiptoed up the stairs, trying to move as quietly as you could, butyou weren’t entirely sure why. Stopping in front of his door, youpaused for a moment. Did you just ask for the bowl and leave? Did youtry and make passing conversation? Apologize for trying to strong armhim? How exactly did you handle this? A part of you hoped he wouldjust do what he did earlier and would ignore you knocking.
Younoticed the typing had stopped, so may be he was asleep? Would it berude to knock? It was quite a bit later than you told him you wouldbe by. The sound of the TV was still going, but it was quiet as ithad been earlier. Somehow, absurdly, you felt a lot more anxious thanyou had the first time you knocked.
Youresolved to knock lightly, and if he didn’t answer on the firstround, you’d leave. You could ask him for the dish another time. Yousucked in a breath, and tenderly tapped your fingers on the door. Itwas so soft that even you barely heard it. Chewing on your nail, youwaited for a few seconds before you “decided” that he had likelyfinally settled in and was sleeping. Either that, or he was ignoringyou. You just had hoped that he had eaten first. Either way, youshould probably leave.
As youturned to do just that, you heard a raspy voice from the other sideof the door.
“Comein.”
Okay,now this was unprecedented. What did you do? What was acceptable? Didyou poke your head in? Did you just talk from the doorway? What wasthe appropriate etiquette here?
Clutchingthe knob, you turned it sluggishly, pushing open the weak door andcreeping inside the room as silently as you could. You stoodawkwardly for a few moments, unable to see with only the light fromhis computer shining dimly from the monitor.
“Isaid come in.” Hesounded agitated now. You could hear his voice from a corner of theroom, but you couldn’t see him quite yet. You stumbled over your feetwalking further into his domain, standing with one hand on thealternate elbow, doing your best not to look nervous.
“Shutmy door. I don’t need the idiots looking in.”
Hisrequest took you by surprise, but your body wasted no time complying,pushing it shut with your palm. You stood in the dark, looking aroundrestlessly. Your eyes slowly adjusted to the dreary nature of hisroom, but it wasn’t much help. You could see his room was messy,smelling of must and dusty construction. The windows had been tapedover, and there were piles of black clothes and garbage sitting inpiles across the floor.
“Shigaraki?I came for the bowl, so I can finish the dishes.” You hated lookingso clueless in front of your boss, but a part of you knew he did iton purpose. There was no winning with someone like that. It wasbetter to just play his stupid game. “Could you turn a light on, soI can see?”
He sighed, muttering something underhis breath. He let you stumble around in the darkness for a few moreminutes before you heard a heavy click, and a small light clicked onfrom the corner of the room.
His room was a disaster. Discardedwrappers and energy drink cans were all over his small desk and nightstand, with debris and small pieces of plaster littered across thefloor. Piles of ash were everywhere, things he had disintegrated infits of anger and rage while everyone else had pretended not to hear.He had a large cot he had pushed into the corner that had a smallbundle of dark blankets he was sitting on, head down with his handsin his lap. If he hadn’t been the leader of a villain organization,he would look exceptionally like a young man in the middle of a deepdepression or perhaps a grieving session.
You surveyed the room and tried todecide the best course of action. You couldn’t let him continueliving like this. He was going to get sick. There were entire piecesof wood with rusted nails sticking out just hanging around, and itwas apparent he was living on granola bars and energy drinks.
“The bowl is on the table.” Athin, spindly finger pointed at his desk, just beside his computer.You glanced at him, wanting an official okay before venturing furtherinto his room. He only looked up at you through his thick hair,vermilion eyes emotionless. You nodded at him, making your way towardhis desk and brushing aside the empty wrappers to find the bowl.
When you found it, you picked it up,tipping it from side to side curiously. The contents of the bowl wereentirely gone. Peering around as inconspicuously as you could, youmonitored your surroundings. No wet spots on the floor, no garbagebag he could hide it in. His window was taped shut, so he couldn’tdump it out. You supposed he could have ashed the vegetables and meatbut you weren’t entirely sure how his quirk worked on waterysubstances. From the looks of it, he had actually eaten it. It wasthe only real meal of yours that you had seen Shigaraki eaten sinceyou’d known him.  
It surprised you that he hadactually eaten it, though you weren’t sure what you had expected,honestly. Maybe for him to leave it full out of pure spite or to justdump it on the floor. He didn’t seem to have a problem with a mess.You peered back at him, curiosity overwhelming your better senses.You found that his gaze was focused on you still, eyes droopingsleepily, but still alert somehow. He kept his vision steady as youturned to face him. His attention felt so invasive somehow.
“You actually ate it.” Younoted, holding the bowl in your hands and lightly gesturing to it.
Scowling, he huffed a harsh breathof air and crossed his hands over his chest. “You thought I’d wastemy time making some scheme to rid of soup?”
“I just wasn’t sure you wouldactually eat it. I know it’s not Kurogiri’s, but-” You cut yourselfwhen you noticed his eyes yank from yours, flashing dangerously atthe mention of Kurogiri. “I hope it was at least wasn’t awful.”
He stared down the wall, arms pulledtightly to across his midsection as if he was chilly. You knew hewanted you to leave, to be left alone, but something in youpersisted.
“Hey, I just got a fresh load oflaundry back from the laundromat and everyone is asleep.” Yousqueaked out, unsure how he would react. You saw him cock an eyebrowunderneath his bangs. He probably wondered what the fuck you werebabbling about. You knew you should leave, it was safer that way, butyou kept going. “If you wanted to, you could shower in peace. Iknow you probably don’t want to be bothered.”
Every self preservation instinct inyour body was screaming at you to go.You were really digging now, inviting yourself into a territory whereyou had no business. Still, your feet stayed planted to their spot,facing him, unable to leave until you knew you had done everythingyou could.
He moved his head back to face you,bringing his palm to his eye and rubbing harshly as the other honedin on you. He seemed like he had no idea what the hell you weretrying to do, and truth be told, you didn’t either. He seemeddistrustful, like he thought you had an ulterior motive or maybe youwere trying to trick him somehow. The skin around his eyes tightened,the small cracks of flesh doubling over themselves as he glared youdown.
“It’s just an offer, I thought-”You paused, trying to compose your words in your head. Nothing wasforming in your head, not as his bloodshot eyes bore into you and youfelt a deep swell in your stomach, the feeling of which you couldn’tquite name. Something in your chest ached as you looked despondentlyback at him. “I thought you might want to bathe in privacy. If youwant, you could-” You stammered again. “I know you’re busy andit’s hard and-”
You took a deep breath. You weren’tsure how you wanted this to go, but you knew this wasn’t it.Embarrassment made your cheeks tingle, and you wanted to run. He wasstill staring at you passively, equally as confused as you. You hadto say something.
“If you wanted to shower orsomething, you could. When you’re gone, I could pick up some of thestuff in here. I know you probably don’t have time, being the leaderand all. Anything I can do to help. I just want to make things easieron you. If you’d let me do that for you, I’d feel a lot better.”
You gulped down, preparing for whatwas about to come. He was going to start yelling, asking you if youthought he was incompetent or unable to take care of it himself.Stomp towards you and demand why you thought you knew better than hedid at how he should live. Maybe even kick you out of the League, andat worst, turn you to ash. You closed your eyes, preparing.
It never came.
You felt his shoulder brush past youas he left the room, stalking down the hall. He had left you alone inhere. Was he that angry? Did you drive him out of his own sanctum?Had he gone for a walk and when he got back he would turn you to dustand keep you in a plastic bag to warn everyone else of the dangers oftrying to boss him around?
Your thoughts halted when you heardthe pipes creak and the shower turn on from the other room. Had heactually taken your offer? You two were the only ones awake at themoment, so it must have been him. Panic struck you, and you realizedyou were alone and completely unsupervised in Shigaraki’s room. Hisroom. His room that you’dpromised you’d clean.
You quickly put down the bowl andwent and snatched a garbage bag from downstairs, picking up all thewrappers and cans placed around the room. Breaking down the decrepitplanks and placing them in as well, alongside the random debris andplaster that littered the floor. You didn’t feel comfortable enoughtouching his computer, but you lightly organized all of the randomknickknacks around it that he’d taken from various places, as well asthe piles of video games and movies he’d stolen that were tossed onthe floor. All of his laundry was scooped up in your arms and placedinto bags which you would take to the laundromat tomorrow, and youmade a mental note to steal some hangers for all the sweatshirts andlong sleeved shirts he had. You opted to not touch Father or any ofhis ‘family’. That was too daring, even for you.
You weren’t entirely sure when itcame to his bed. It was such an intimate place, somewhere you knew hefound sacred. Even standing close to it, you could smell his naturalscent, and that unsure feeling came back again. You resolved to makeit as best as you could without disrupting his nest, just in casethat’s how he slept. However, the season was turning cold, and thethin, ratty blankets he had probably wouldn’t be enough to keep himwarm.
You’d managed to keep a stash ofblankets you’d 'acquired’ for the League for colder days hidden away,and you grabbed a small, dark, fuzzy one for Shigaraki. He wasprobably cold but too damn proud to ask for a something. Bringing itinto the room, you placed it among his heap, in hopes he wouldn’tnotice. You ruffled it in an attempt to make it look natural. Withany luck, by the time he noticed it, he wouldn’t care to mention it.
You were just placing the finishingtouches on his room when you heard the pipes silence and the watershut off. He’d be back soon. You scurried around, picking up anyspare garbage and organizing in a flurry, looking for anything youforgot. Your heart was racing, pumping blood into your ears andspiking your adrenaline, but you weren’t sure why. Were you really soafraid of him? Or was it something else? You tried to shake thethought.
You heard his door squeak, and youturned to greet him. However, the wind was knocked from your lungsand almost dropped you clean to the floor. Shigaraki was standing inthe doorway in nothing but a towel, held up by four of his fingersaround his bony hips. His shaggy periwinkle hair fell down around hisface, small droplets of water falling off onto his chest. His palebody was covered in scattered scars, ranging from long and jagged tosmall and round, placed variously around his lean torso and arms. Youimmediately turned from him, feeling as if you violated himsomehow.“Sir-Boss-I-” You stammered, unable to get asentence out. “I-just-finished-I’m-sorry-I-didn’t-mean-to-” wasall you could really manage.
“I didn’t have any clean clothes.”He whispered, almost sheepishly. He pulled the towel up a littlefurther along his torso, likely feeling exposed.
“Oh!” You slapped your handagainst your forehead, feeling foolish. “I think I have some fromthe last load. Let me check really fast!”
You scurried past him and down thestairs, quickly tearing through the laundry and searching foranything he could wear. You pulled aside a shirt and pair ofsweatpants of his, carefully gathering the rest of his clothing inyour alternating arm and sweeping it together as you tried to stand.You maneuvered it up the stairs, thankful you hadn’t dropped anythingbut unsure exactly what to do when you reached his door. It was stillpartially open, but just barging in felt wrong.
“Um. Boss? I have-”
“Get in here.” His annoyed voicewas back. He didn’t sound happy. You braced yourself.
You entered, kicking the door shutbehind you without prompting. You noticed he was sitting on the bedand the light had been turned off. Unsure of exactly what to do, youheld out the arm with his pants and shirt to him, turning your headaway out of respect. “Here, boss.” Without thinking, you startedwaving the clothing around like a toy for a pet. “I hope thesework. I have all your other clothes here too. I promise I’ll get therest done tomorrow.”
He yanked them from your grip, andshortly after, you heard his towel drop. Another involuntary blushbloomed on your cheeks. The sound of the fabric rustling as hedressed himself filled the room, but all you could hear was theheartbeat in your ears. It seemed like an eternity until he wasdressed.
After enough time had passed, youfinally brought yourself to speak. “Where would you like the restof your clothes?”
“Just throw them in the corner.”
You slowly turned around, notingthat he was fully dressed now and sitting on his bed, controller inhis hand and booting up a game. You shuffled over to a corner of theroom, dropping his clothes unceremoniously on the floor. He saidnothing as you did so, ignoring you in favor of his game. You smiledsoftly, watching his still wet hair cling to his face. He stillneeded to sleep, but you felt much better about his state now.
Before you turned to leave, youtried to memorize the scene. He was clean, well fed, and at least alittle more content, you hoped. His room wasn’t awful, and maybe he’dsleep a little better if it felt a little more like home. Yeah, youweren’t Kurogiri, but you could look after them as best you coulduntil he returned. You opened your mouth to say goodnight.
“Stay.”
Your brows furrowed. Were youhearing things?
“What?”
“Can’t you hear? I said stay.”He wasn’t looking at you, but you were absolutely sure you’d heardthat. You stayed, feeling petrified and looking at him as if he hadgone crazy. His eyes met yours again, then turned down briefly to thespot beside his on the bed before returning his attentions toward theTV.
You were frozen. Had he really askedyou to stay? Did you imagine that? You stayed in your position infront of the door. You didn’t dare move.
“Boss, did you want meto-”
“Don’t make me ask again.” His gaze didn’t turnfrom the TV this time. He was asking you to stay. You hadn’t imaginedthat.
You slowly walked toward his bed,pausing for a moment. Did he want you to sit next to him? Did he wantyou to sit on the floor? What was he asking? Why were youoverthinking this?
He turned and gave you an irateglare, large hand removing itself from the controller to point to thespot next to him. You immediately sat beside him this time, adjustingyourself accordingly as the bed groaned and creased your weight andbrought the two of you closer than you originally intended. Your skinfelt hot as it rubbed against him. You’d never been this close to himbefore. The wetness from his hair dripped onto your shoulder, and youcould smell him now, his natural scent mixed with the soaps from theshower.
His eyes were on you again, sendinga shiver down your spine as his cold hand passed you the controller,fingertips purposely brushing against yours.
“Do you play any video games?”                                                                                                                
236 notes · View notes
softbiker · 5 years ago
Text
A Familiar Place - Part 1
Tumblr media
A recovery story - this series follows some events in the first year of Bucky’s life back stateside, and his small adventures while learning to come home to himself. This is not an “x Reader” or romance story.
Warnings: some language, probably sloppy editing
A/N: I’m posting the first part of this story to celebrate hitting 100 followers this weekend! Thank you so much everyone! I’m having a blast with this writing blog. This story probably won’t be updated as fast as Born to Run since I don’t have it all written out yet, but I still wanted to post it. Tagging @bitsandbobsandstuff since she answered my question about Steve’s coffee order :) As always, let me know what you think and if you like it!
Tumblr media
There’s a stack of books next to his bed that need to go back to the library. Probably overdue, he thinks, and he hasn’t read a single page. He feels a little guilty for it as he stares at their spines, blinking slow and sleepy.
A knock at the door.
“Hey man, you ready?” Sam pokes his head in, eyebrows up and expectant.
“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky nods. Finishes lacing his sneakers. Grabs a baseball cap from the doorknob on his way.
Steve is waiting by the front door, rolling his shoulders underneath a (frankly ridiculous) tight blue shirt. The corner of his mouth quirks up when he turns.
“Mornin’, Buck.”
“Morning.”
“He’s so damn chipper in the mornings,” Sam grins, slapping Bucky’s shoulder. “I feel perky just standing next to you, Tin Man.”
Bucky narrows his eyes but says nothing, just watches Steve shake his head like a fond mother. He knew by now that their animosity was mostly a pretense.
“Ready to go?” the Captain asks, rubbing his hands together, eager and alert despite the bags under his own eyes. Bucky suspects that Steve stays up to see if he needs him, listening for the sounds of his nightmares. He feels a little guilty for that, too.
They do a quick warm up outside, some leg swings and lunges and jumping jacks to get the blood flowing. It’s mostly for Sam - Bucky doesn’t know if it’s possible for him or Steve to pull a muscle, but it definitely won’t be on their morning runs. But they do the routine together anyways, the three of them, their breaths puffing in the spring morning air.
It’s only a couple of miles from their place to Prospect Park, and Bucky and Steve jog at a reasonable pace for Sam’s sake. The conversation is easy between them now - Sam’s date last week with the nurse from the medical wing, Steve’s painting class, Bucky’s therapy sessions. He’s noncommittal on any specifics, but he admits that he thinks they help. And that’s enough - Sam and Steve don’t press him, happy to have him out and moving and living under a sunrise. They take a few laps through the curving paths of the park, nodding to other early morning runners.
About 6 miles in, Bucky yawns.
“Are we gonna actually run today, Rogers, or are we letting the flightless bird set the pace?”
Steve cocks an eyebrow and glances to his left at Sam, the only member of their trio with a collection of sweat on his chest and under his arms and little beads of it running down his face.
“If you think you can keep up, jerk.”
Sam is left behind somewhere around the lake, yelling something about not being afraid to “beat senior citizen ass.”
Here’s the thing about being a super soldier: it doesn’t feel that crazy most of the time. Bucky knows he’s not straining when he moves an entire rack of weights in the gym, or lifts the back end of a car to help put a jack under it. Tony rented out batting cages for the team one time, and he broke the bat on the first swing, simultaneously popping the stitches on the ball. He plays this little game sometimes where he tries to balance as much weight as he can on his index finger - he’s managed 40 pounds so far on his human hand.
But none of that feels special when he does it. Being strong is just a fact about him. It doesn’t make him feel superhuman. “Enhanced”.
Running, though.
When he and Steve go for runs, legs stretching forward and pavement barely felt as it flows beneath their feet, the world feels different. Slower. They dart around the joggers and strollers in their path, and Bucky watches them slip behind him in slow motion. They propel their bodies like bullets, their cadence the rapidfire staccato of a machine gun. The trees ebb and grow in cresting waves of green as the soldiers fly past.
Flying, Bucky thinks. That’s how he feels now.
Steve is a half beat ahead of him, and his head turns in profile, eyes cutting to find Bucky’s. The corner of his lip twitches.
“Tired yet?”
“Not on your life, punk.”
Steve laughs as he nearly doubles their pace, legs a blur to the eyes of everyone they pass. Bucky follows, gripping the bill of his cap as it threatens to fly up at their speed. He shifts it around backwards, the way he sees Sam wear his sometimes. They turn up the periphery of the park to the northeast, chasing the half-risen sun, now above the buildings and trees around them. Bucky can see the shape of the public library as they pass by, the bronze gate gleaming in the morning light. Some of his old gear, Army stuff and boxing gloves and pictures of him and Steve sitting on the hood of a jeep in France, had been on display with their historical collection when he got here - got home - a few months ago. Sam showed him when they went there; Bucky had leaned close, tried to recognize that kid under the glass.
The supersoldiers put in about 20 miles before they decide to find Sam, now that they’ve finally broken a sweat. Cutting across the grass, they slow their pace to human level and look for their friend. Sam is still by the lake, stretching in the grass while laughing with a girl with a long braided ponytail and crazy tight workout clothes. Bucky and Steve share a look as they jog across the lawn, but act polite when the starstruck girl realizes who Sam’s running buddies are.
After taking a couple selfies with them, the girl jogs off to get ready for work, ponytail swinging behind her. Steve raises an eyebrow in Sam’s direction.
“So, what about that nurse?”
Sam gives him the finger.
***************************************************************************************
“Look man, all I’m saying is, you could give it a shot,” Sam shrugs, sipping from his to-go cappuccino. “I mean, who knows, there’s probably plenty of ladies out there who are into this whole thing.” He waves the coffee cup to gesture to Bucky’s entire body.
Bucky frowns. “I have a thing?”
“Sure, you know the brooding, emotionally tortured, dark past kinda thing.” Sam slaps his shoulder. “Lean into it, chicks dig that.”
Bucky nearly chokes on his own drink as he glares at Sam. Steve hides his smile behind his complete monstrosity of a drink. A limited edition something, the clear cup holds 20 ounces of frozen tie-dye, swirling in red, blue, and yellow, and topped with a mountain of whipped cream. Steve Rogers, ever the little shit, had ordered this drink with a straight face, and now slurps loudly on his straw, while taking breaks to run his finger through the whipped cream. Bucky can see the name “Cap” scrawled in neat sharpie on the side of the cup, with a star drawn next to it.
“I’m not interested, okay,” Bucky shrugs, dodging a piece of gum on the sidewalk. They had gotten coffee on their walk back to the brownstone, and were discussing a topic that now made Bucky’s skin crawl with discomfort - women.
“Hey, you don’t have to be looking for a wife,” Sam goes on. “But it wouldn’t hurt you to download an app or two. Tinder. Bumble. Something.”
“Aw, lay off him, Sam,” Steve finally speaks up, shaking his head. “Bucky’s not ready. Maybe he’ll feel like it when he’s back to his old lady killer self.”
Bucky cringes at the phrase, at the half-formed memories it conjures. A swaggering Brooklyn kid who spent far too much time combing his hair and winking at pretty girls. He remembers tucking flowers into the lapel of his suit jacket, spending hours shining his shoes, just to spend a night dancing with some pretty girl he’d never see again. He could barely bring himself to talk to strangers anymore, let alone ask one on a date.
“Shut up, Rogers,” he mumbles into his coffee. “That Bucky is dead and buried.”
He doesn’t have to look to know that Steve’s face has that stricken grimace he pulls whenever Bucky says something dark and self-deprecating. He wishes he could say those things without making Steve feel guilty, cause now he feels guilty…
“I didn’t mean anything by it, Buck…”
“I know, I know,” Bucky waves him off. “Just quit tryin’ to set me up, both of you. Let an old man rest, will you? Jeez…”
His little joke is enough to put Steve and Sam at ease again, and the conversation turns to Steve’s equally lackluster love life until they reach their place and shuffle up the front steps. Ivy creeps and climbs up the walls for this entire block of buildings, and Bucky wonders if someone planted it there. He likes the lush green of it, especially in the morning.
The 3 of them part ways to hit the showers. In his room again, Bucky’s eye is drawn back to his sad little pile of books.
Sam is smart. An asshole, yes, but smart. Which is why his book choices tend to include biographies, history, political topics - the stack on the nightstand includes only one novel, a recent bestseller about a retired veteran adopting a dog. Bucky remembers reading, being a reader - he remembers bringing home books from school or trading them at the bookstore or receiving them as gifts from Steve. But not those kinds of books. Nothing boring. Nothing to remind him of the uncertain, hard world he lived in.
He stares at the spines of Sam’s books for a few more moments, then hurries through the shower, his mind made up.
***************************************************************************************
“Um, excuse me,” he clears his throat at the front desk. “I need to return these, but, uh. I think - well, they’re overdue.”
Bucky tries a smile at the clerk, a middle-aged woman with a short-cropped haircut, but he can feel how unnatural it looks on his face. The clerk raises an eyebrow at him - he realizes he should have waited a bit before coming here; the tips of his hair are still wet, tiny wet spots coloring the shoulders on his hoodie.
“Well, let’s scan them and see,” she sighs, pulling his books across the desk. Bucky shifts, his hands curling and uncurling in his front pockets. The old Bucky could probably charm his way out of the fine, but this one? Not a chance in hell, Barnes. The librarian grabs the first book and scans the barcode taped to the plastic jacket.
His books are 13 days overdue - costing him a grand total of $5.20. He thinks of Steve’s now expensive coffee habit as he hands over the bill and change. There goes one of his frozen sugar nightmares.
With his fine taken care of, Bucky wanders his way through the fiction section, his eyes passing over names and titles without catching on anything. Sam’s books weren’t his taste. But he doesn’t even remember his own taste. Gloved fingers drift over the shelves, tapping on the wood.
“Can I help you find something?”
Bucky is embarrassed to be so startled - his head jerks around to see the old man standing there, a warm smile on his face. His shoulders are stooped a little, hands clasped behind his back as he tilts his head up to meet Bucky’s eyes.
“No...well, I don’t know,” Bucky huffs. “I don’t really know what I’m looking for.”
“Oh, I see,” the man nods. The crooked name tag on his striped shirt reads ‘Marvin’. “Would you like some recommendations, then?”
Bucky hesitates, quirking the corner of his mouth down.
“I guess so,” he nods. “I like...fiction. But I haven’t really read anything in a long time.”
Marvin nods quietly, pursing his lips. His eyes pass over the shelves behind his coke bottle glasses, tapping a finger to his chin.
“Follow me,” he shuffles down the aisle, waving a hand behind him. Bucky obeys, turning the corner onto the next set of author’s names. Marvin’s mouth moves silently as he walks along, searching and searching.
“Aha! Here we go.” He reaches up to a shelf at eye level, taking a book and showing Bucky the front cover. “This has been a classic since it was published, really. And the author wrote a trilogy that followed. It’s fantasy, maybe that’s your thing?”
“I...I’m trying new things,” Bucky decides, clearing his throat as he takes the book, admiring the pastoral scene on the cover. “Um, you said he wrote other books?”
Marvin smiles and turns back to the shelf, reaching for the adjacent books.
******************************************************************************************
Bucky’s backpack makes a ‘thunk’ sound as he drops it next to his bed, closing the door with his foot. He had loaned all four books that Marvin suggested, eager as he read their inside covers. Maybe he and Steve and Sam could watch the movie adaptations sometime, on one of their pizza nights. He had always opted out of choosing a movie, so overwhelmed by the options and apathetic to Sam’s DVD library. But maybe he would suggest it to Steve next time. Steve would like that.
He toes off his sneakers, shuffling back and messing up the comforter on his perfectly made bed. When he first moved in, he thought the room was furnished with way too many pillows - who needs more than one pillow? Now he fluffs the three behind his back and props himself up against the headboard, leaning over to slip the first book out of his backpack. He settles back on his bed, folds back the cover to the first chapter.
“In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.”
Tags
@vacant-writings
38 notes · View notes
uzumaki-rebellion · 6 years ago
Text
Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 2, Chapter 17
Tumblr media
youtube
"There will never come a day You'd ever hear me say That I want and need to be without you I want to give my all Baby just hold me, simply control me 'Cause your arms, they keep away the lonelies When I look into your eyes Then I realize That all I need is you in my life All I need is you in my life…"
Brian McKnight – "Never Felt This Way"
The nightmares had returned.
They usually rose their ugly heads the weeks before N'Jobu had to return to Wakanda. They were earlier than they had ever been in two years. It was usually some variation of the same narrative.
Califia would find herself walking into a palatial estate dressed in a fancy dress or some luxurious flowing pants suit and top. She would find herself bejeweled from head to toe with gold bracelets jangling around her wrists and ankles. She had no idea what the palace in Wakanda really looked like outside of the modest photos N'Jobu had shown her, but the dark dreams would conjure up various scenarios each time, her subconscious probably piecing together things she may have seen in magazines or on tv over the years.
There would be the initial joy of finally being in her man's homeland, feeling a sense of belonging, harboring joy in her heart as she moved through large ornate double doors that lead to the voices she heard. The voices were always N'Jobu and Erik's…until she stepped into a wide- open room where an elaborate silver throne sat. N'Jobu was on that throne, his gold slugs gleaming on his teeth as he smiled. But his smile wasn't for her.
Zinzi sat next to him holding a baby. Standing next to her were three other children…and Erik. The three strange children-sometimes boys, sometimes girls, often both—shared features that let her know these were N'Jobu's progeny. His rich dark flawless melanin was in their skin.
N'Jobu would always look over at her and his eyes would look beyond her as if she weren't there at all and one of the children would call out, "Baba, Umama…" and N'Jobu would lean over and kiss Zinzi's cheek and touch the head of the child in her lap.
Zinzi would rise and hold out her hand and say, "Come, Husband," and all of them, including Erik, would walk away from the throne, walk right through her as if she were a ghost. And each time, Califia would run after them screaming, trying to stop N'Jobu, grabbing Erik's arm, but it always ended the same way. N'Jobu walking away from her with another family. The horror would swell in her belly and then she would wake up…
Noise.
From down below in the streets.
Califia forgot how loud it could be living in cramped spaces with people piled on top of each other. Her eyes opened to stare up at the ceiling. Every part of her ached. She asked to be made sore by him. She got her wish. Her thighs had black and blue marks. Her private parts ached from pleasurable use. Her nipples felt tender and raw. Her back shot out bolts of precise pain from where he twisted her to and fro.
Everything hurt, but damn, everything felt so right too.
She was happy to be awake. The nightmare faded in the light of the morning each time. The constant fear about N'Jobu going home to Wakanda for his annual check-in would never leave her. The noise took her from the discomfort that the dreams brought her.
Turning her head to the left of her she saw N'Jobu's profile. He was sound asleep with the covers draped over his waist. His bare chest called for her to touch it and she did, not waking him at all. She herself looked like a fire breathing dragon with drool sometimes when she slept, but this man next to her had the ability to look like he was posing in a magazine when he slumbered. So unfair.
She rolled onto her side so she could get her face close to his. She touched his plush full lips then traced her finger over his chin. She leaned in and kissed his cheek, then lifted a little higher to press her lips into his. He slept soundly. She reached under the covers and felt for his dick. It was flaccid. It probably wouldn't work for a long time. She didn't know where he pulled his stamina nor the ability to recuperate from each time he ejaculated in her and on her, but N'Jobu really showed out this time. His appetite for her was ravenous and she reciprocated that hunger.
But now, he was finally sated and shut down.
Or so she thought.
"Hey," he whispered, his eyes still closed, but his lips curled into a knowing smile.
"Hey," she whispered back kissing his cheek again.
He turned his head to kiss her back.
"Are they back yet?" he asked.
"No. We are still alone."
"Maybe we should leave Erik with your Dad or Rolita every now and then when we get home. I want more time like this…like last night….early this morning…two hours ago…"
She laughed.
"We were really on one. Are you going to explain the door, or shall I do it?" she asked.
N'Jobu sighed heavily. His banging her against the bedroom door caused a noticeable crack in the middle of it.
"I'll tell Lia. And I'll replace the door."
Her hands were still rubbing him under the covers. She pushed the sheet and blankets down. His dick was plumping up. She stroked his emerald green seed jewel. The piercing was just as beautiful now as when he first showed it to her. He opened his eyes. She kissed his lips again then brought her face down to his cock and licked the jewel. Flicking her tongue around it, she felt his erection grow, his dick filling out and lifting up. She put her mouth over it.
"Damn, good morning to me," he said widening his legs for her.
Her mouth and jaws were the only things not too worn out.
"Ooh, yes, I like that, keep making that popping sound with your lips…"
She sucked on the head and each time she bobbed down on it and released it with her thick lips, a loud audible POP! was made. His dick was coated with hot saliva and she looked up at him and his lips quirked with pleasure. Eyes already heavy-lidded he thrust up into her mouth. Saliva dribbled down her jaw and neck. She sat up and gripped his cock and began stroking it up and down.
His eyes glanced down between her legs.
"You're still swollen down there. I'm sorry, girl."
"It's okay. I wanted it," she said. Her labia had swelled from when they were finished having sex, the irritated plumpness arose from his pummeling and biting and rubbing. It would take a few days to get back to normal. The look in his eyes told her he was ready to delve back in her.
His eyes traced every part of her and his erection reacted to what he saw, growing slicker at the tip and bulging in her hand.
Her eyes watched her hand work his dick. He moved his head closer to her and she gave him soft kisses. Her fingertip touched his slit and she played with the clear fluid he released and smoothed it around the head of his cock. Her grip returned just under the glans, her firm short strokes there made him stop kissing her, his breath agitated from the sensations of her stopping and starting. She was edging him just right. Staring at the fat shiny head of his glans she felt her body react to the perfect dark even coloring of his erection.
She slowed down her hand and just let her fingers make a ring under the head, twisting her digits slowly from left to right hitting his sweet spot. She saw his eyes sweep down to her pussy and more of his body's own lubricant spilled down and pooled on top of her thumb.
"Califia," he groaned, raising his eyes back to her face. He had that look. He was close to release. He reached out and fondled her breasts. She drew in a sharp intake of breath across her teeth when his fingers brushed over her sore nipples. The pleasure and pain she felt from his touch made him thrust his hips. He needed more from her hand and she gripped him tighter.
"Yes, like that," he gritted out watching her hand stroke him harder.
"Ah, man," she whined.
She could hear the children making their way up the steps from down below. Marisol's high-pitched squeal followed by Erik's high-strung cackles with Lia telling them both to slow down.
"Keep going," he grunted out squeezing her left breast.
She pumped her fist around him faster.
"Like that?"
"Yes…keep doing that…you know how to work me…you k'no—"
He blurted out something harsh in Wakandan and then his dick released a steady flow of cum that ran down his length and covered her hand.
"Shit!" he cried out.
When his cock was no longer sensitive, she reached for the hand towel they had used earlier.
"No, you clean me up with your mouth," he said pushing her head toward his lap.
"They'll be in here soon—"
"Lick all this up."
She did her best to slurp up all that dripped down his cock and thighs. When they heard the key in the front door twisting the lock, he wiped the rest of his release from his stomach with the towel and kissed her.
"I taste good in your mouth, girl," he whispered.
"You so nasty," she said licking her fingers of the excess semen still there.
The front door opened in the living room and the children's feet stampeded in followed by Lia's calm voice telling them to stop running in the house.
Califia stared at N'Jobu and rubbed his chest again.
"Next time we need a full twenty-four hours to ourselves—" she said.
A knock on the bedroom door let them know Erik wanted to see them. N'Jobu pulled the covers back over them and he pulled Califia onto his chest.
"Mom…Baba…it's me."
"Come in," she said.
Erik dipped his head in the doorway first then stepped in when he saw they were waiting for him.
"Why are you on the floor?" he asked.
"More comfortable down here," N'Jobu said squeezing Califia's shoulder under the covers.
"Auntie Lia wants to know if you want to have dinner at Luna's Grill or Catalina's…Baba, what's that on your teeth?"
Erik stepped closer to them and knelt down on the mattress. Califia ran her pinky finger on N'Jobu's gold slugs.
"Your father was just showing me his new grill," Califia said waiting for N'Jobu to come up with a good explanation as to why Erik had never seen them before.
"Cool," Erik said. He didn't ask his father to elaborate.
"Tell Lia we'll do Catalina's so we can dress up," she said.
"Okay," Erik said bouncing up from the mattress.
Califia could feel N'Jobu rubbing on her booty.
"What happened to the door?" Erik asked staring at the large crack in the middle.
Califia looked up at N'Jobu.
"Yeah, about that…" Califia said.
N'Jobu shook his head.
N'Jobu treated everyone to the Catalina restaurant feast.
His family, Lia's and Soliel's parents along with some community elders congregated on one side of the restaurant. It was a fancy establishment and everyone dressed up to celebrate the upcoming election.
Victory was in the air, and even though Lia thought it was presumptuous to celebrate before an actual win, everyone wanted to do it regardless of the final outcome later.
He couldn't keep his eyes off of Califia. Their lovemaking had him buzzing and once again he had tunnel vision, following her around like a lost puppy, constantly holding her hand or kissing her neck. She, in turn, stayed hugged up on him, her hand constantly rubbing his arm at the table or stroking the nape of his neck. She and Erik dressed alike, form-fitting black blazers with tight black trousers and black Doc Marten boots. Califia wore a low-cut black silk camisole top under her blazer while Erik sported a jet-black silk shirt he bought for himself at a boutique in the city.
N'Jobu wore an ivory and ecru suit that complimented the darker ensemble of his wife and son, and around their dinner table, the rest of their party was quite sophisticated with their apparel. The owner of the restaurant came over to meet Lia and wish her well while giving everyone dessert on the house.
Wine freely flowed, and N'Jobu felt his kimoyo beads heat up.
"Which way to the restroom?" he asked.
Califia pointed him toward the entrance of the restaurant.
Leaving the group, N'Jobu made his way as if going to the men's room, but went outside instead. He inserted an earbud in his hand and took out his cell phone to pretend he was using it. He tapped his kimoyo.
"Prince N'Jobu."
"D'Beke."
N'Jobu looked around his surroundings. No one was paying attention to him as he stood off to the side near the end of the sidewalk speaking Wakandan.
"I think I have found someone who can help us with our little project," D'Beke said.
"Who?"
"A South African."
"Really?"
"An Afrikaner."
N'Jobu sucked on his teeth.
"No, listen. This white man is a mercenary with a flawless reputation. Hard to contact, but I have my radar on him. He is in Dubai right now but may be willing to do some work for us. With your permission, of course, Your Highness. Sita knows him personally."
"Sita does?"
"Yes. Hold on…."
N'Jobu heard D'Beke speak to someone and then a new voice was in his ear.
"Your Highness."
"Sita," he said. His voice changed in tone when he heard the woman's voice.
"Tell me about this Afrikaner. Can he be trusted?"
"His name is Ulysses Klaue. A greedy maggot of a man. He is about as trustworthy as the dollar amount he is paid to do jobs. But he gets things done. And off the radar. He can be the perfect fall guy too if you want him to be."
"Let me think about it," N'Jobu said.
"Of course. I can set up a meeting in Canaan if you like."
"No, further away. Off continent. Someplace white. Northern."
"I will see what I can do, Your Highness."
"N'Jobu—"
He turned to see Califia watching him. He spoke quickly into the phone.
"I have to go. We shall speak again soon. Tell D'Beke to start preliminary inquiries. Feel out who is with me. And Sita…do this with great discretion. I can not stress this enough."
"Will do, Your Highness. Goodbye."
"Goodbye, Sita."
He pretended to tap his phone and took out his earbud.
"Everything okay back home?" she asked.
Her eyes were inquisitive. She heard him speaking Wakandan. He didn't know why he felt nervous. She didn't know his language, but her voice sounded suspicious like she was aware of something. He put his phone away and reached for her hand.
"Everything is fine—"
"Who were you talking to?"
"Some military colleagues. Just going over some things before I return."
Damn. There was that look in her eyes. The worry she always had when it came close to his annual check-in. He pulled her in and held her waist.
"Nothing to worry about. Is everyone still enjoying dessert?"
"Yeah."
He kissed her forehead.
"Let's go back in," he said.
They found Erik stuffing a large spoonful of chocolate mousse into his mouth. Marisol was busy pushing vanilla parfait into hers.
N'Jobu held up a glass of wine in honor of Lia.
"Salud," he said.
All the adults joined him. When he looked into Califia's eyes, she looked worried about something. But she smiled at him and held up her glass of white wine toward Lia.
When the evening was over and they were all back at Lia's ready for bed, Califia sat at the dresser mirror in the guest bedroom and twisted her hair. The children were asleep and Lia was on her couch with her boyfriend watching a late-night movie. She herself could not sleep and decided to busy herself with her hair.
N'Jobu was on the mattress down on the floor reading a book.
She heard his voice when he was talking on his phone outside the restaurant. The way his tone sounded she knew he was talking to a woman. It was something his voice did all the time and she wondered if it was what they did in his native language, or if N'Jobu just naturally sounded seductive when he spoke to any woman. He never sounded that way with men.
She worried about having the nightmare again when she fell asleep. She never told N'Jobu about it because she was afraid it might be true. His American life could be an elaborate charade, and he would go be with Zinzi and their children. Califia was just his side-chick that he gave a baby to just to keep her happy and complacent so he could use her for his spy work.
She didn't know why she couldn't ignore the dreams as the stuff feeding on her anxiety about his leaving again. But he was giving her vibes that something was off, especially back in his homeland. And to hear him talking to a woman that could be Zinzi just ate at her. He could be going home and putting on a wedding band and stepping into a home where Zinzi and their children would spend a whole month playing family. Maybe, just maybe, the times he told her not to come to his apartment, what if he were meeting his other family in secret from her?
She shook her head at the thoughts. They made her seem so ridiculous. He loved her. He wouldn't lie to her about having someone else. True, he lied about his heritage, but she understood why he did that. But she had heard horror stories from close friends about women marrying foreign men and their husbands having whole ass families in other parts of the world like it wasn't anything. Years of women thinking they were the only one only to find out a man had a whole different life for decades.
He received strange calls at odd hours of the night at their townhouse. Calls he had to take in private speaking his mother tongue in hushed tones. He was supposed to be a spy for his country. What if his double life was a triple life? She knew she couldn't handle something like that. And she cursed herself for coming up with the hurtful thoughts, driving herself into states of panic, driving herself to make him prove he loved her by teasing him. Pushing buttons in him that she knew he would react to. The whole time they went out dancing the other night was just her insecurity acting out. How bad did he want her? Did he still love her passionately? Was she still his everything in bed like he told her? He wanted more children. Could he have another woman back home giving him the babies he so desperately wanted? Legitimate royal offspring that his parents were fawning over? How hard could it be when he already had a secret child in the States?
The dream she had that morning was truly the worst even though most of the fear wore off once she woke up. In that scenario, not only did N'Jobu have his other family, but he took Erik with him and left her behind.
Her eyes glanced at him from the mirror. He was into his book. A history of salt. He had finished another book on the history of wine and beer two days ago. He looked comfortable. Content. Clothes off, no plans for the next day except attending a final political rally to drum up last-minute support for Lia near a mall after a late lunch. And here she was sitting in front of a mirror thinking he was doing the most horrible thing she could think of. Being with someone else. Although he had said it in the heat of their lovemaking, she could still feel the tension in her gut when he had told her there was pussy out in the street just lined up and waiting for him. Not just the streets in Sao Paulo, but everywhere.
He caught her staring at him.
"Penny for your thoughts," he said watching her reflection.
She tied her hair up with a black silk scarf and turned to face him.
"Just thinking about the election."
It didn't look like he believed her. He held out his hand for her. She stood up and went to him, kneeling down on the mattress and letting him pull her close to him.
"Something else is on your mind. I see it in your eyes. You know you can't hide things from me when your eyes reveal so much. My love, what is it?"
She hated being insecure. It was hard not to be when she had a man like him.
"What is it?"
He stroked her arm. Then lifted up her chin.
"Tell me," he whispered.
His eyes were so loving. Sincere.
"I have these bad dreams…I have them more now and they get really bad when you go back to Wakanda. I trust you…but…"
"But what?"
She couldn't answer. She felt ashamed for doubting him, but she couldn't help feeling what she felt.
"I have dreams that you go home to a second family."
She closed her eyes and pressed her head into his chest. It sounded even worse saying it out loud. N'Jobu pushed her back gently and shifted his body so that he was leaning above her.
"You dream this or do you believe this?"
His voice sounded coarse, like he couldn't fathom what just came out her mouth. She couldn't answer him. Shame swallowed her throat.
His face broke into an incredulous expression.
"Califia. You think I have another family?"
There was pain in his voice. She looked up at him.
"How long have you been thinking this?"
Don't lie to him.
"The past two years—"
He sat up abruptly.
"Two years?!"
She lifted up and her shoulder touched his, her off-the-shoulder t-shirt hanging low on her arms.
"What have I possibly done to make you believe that?"
"The secrets. The pretending. I don't know what you do when you are over there. I don't know what you do when you are in your apartment by yourself. More and more these days you are away from us alone. I tell myself that you have to do it to stay here with us, but sometimes…sometimes N'Jobu I get scared. And it manifests in my dreams."
"I don't have another family in Wakanda. Or anywhere else. I don't have any other children. I just have you and Erik. That's all. I just don't understand why you would hold onto this for two years. You can talk to me about anything."
He stroked her face then pulled her in for a hug.
"Shit, girl. Don't ever hold onto something like that. Talk to me. I love you. I want you."
"Okay," she whispered.
"I damn near fucked you through a whole door last night. That didn't tell you anything?"
She smiled.
"I know you worry. I know you get anxious when I am gone. It's the life I have given us. I take the blame for that. There is so much about my culture that you could never fully understand. It is so rigid, and so hard for me. I do the best that I can so I can make a life with you and Erik—"
"You don't have to explain—"
"No, I do. Because it is affecting you so much. Giving you nightmares. Stressing you out. I don't have any power right now to change things at this time in my life. But I promise you. One day we won't have to hide—
"N'Jobu—"
"Listen to me. I want you to feel secure and safe, and I am sorry that I have disappointed you by not making you feel that way."
She flung her arms around his neck.
"I don't want to talk about it anymore…just hold me…"
She felt his body shake a bit as he pulled her in tighter against him.
"There's only you, girl. I swear…"
She nodded and let him pull the covers back so she could scramble under them to get next to his warmth. He held her safe and secure until she fell asleep.
Noise again.
She woke up to a cool empty mattress on his side of the bed.
His shadow was outside on the patio deck. He was on his cell phone again. She heard the soft tones drip from his lips. A woman on the other end once more.
Knotting in her stomach made her feel a fit of dull anger seep into her chest. He said his military work caused the calls. She wanted to believe him. But he could talk in his language next to her in bed and she wouldn't know any details. He didn't have to go outside. It made him look sneaky. Like he was conducting an affair.
Girl, stop. Get it together.
She curled herself up into a ball and faced away from the window.
He stepped back into their space and packed his cell away in his suitcase. Crawling back onto the mattress and under the covers, he spooned around her and a hand reached for her breast. She didn't like the touch but endured it. He held the weight of her in his hand and pressed closer into her. He seemed to ignore her body language, probably still thinking she was asleep. When he angled his groin closer to her backside, she pushed away from him. She felt his body shift, unsure of what to do. He placed his arm around her waist and she went stiff when he touched her. He lifted up and she felt the covers pull back from her arms.
"Califia."
She ignored him.
"Don't close me out, girl."
She pulled the covers back over her shoulders.
"I just want to go to sleep."
"I can't touch you now?"
"It's hot."
"No, it's not."
She tucked her head low.
"What is it now?" he asked.
"Nothing. Do you need to make any more phone calls? I can go sleep with the kids. Give you privacy in here."
She heard him suck on his teeth. She sucked hers back.
"Don't act like a child," he said.
"Fuck you."
"Fuck me—?"
She turned around to face him.
"You're talking to a woman. Both times you have been talking to a woman on your phone—"
"We have women soldiers in our military. You do remember my personal bodyguards, right? All women—"
"—you didn't have to make or take calls right now—"
"—I'm in a different time zone. If I don't take the calls my people will think something is wrong—"
"Why does your voice have to sound like that when you talk to women?" she hissed, trying to keep her voice below a whisper.
"Sound like what?"
"Like you're trying to fuck them through the phone?"
"What?"
"Ughh!" she said throwing the covers back over her head. She sounded stupid. She knew it. Now she was embarrassed. It was so juvenile.
His hand rubbed her shoulder.
"Hey…"
She wanted to sink through the floor.
"So…you're not going to share the covers?"
His fingers pulled on the blankets and sheet, dragging them away from her face. She kept her eyes closed.
"I have no idea what you mean about my voice talking over the phone to women. I just talk—"
"You can't hear yourself, so you wouldn't know—"
"I can definitely hear myself, girl—"
"It's the tone…you sound suggestive…the pitch and timbre change…like you're trying to have phone sex."
"You don't think I talk that way to you on the phone?"
"Not all the time…sometimes…"
He shook his head.
"If I really want to seduce someone with my voice, I know I could, and I have done so…but I promise you, I'm just speaking to a colleague and fellow soldier…what are we really talking about right now? I'm so confused. What are you upset about? I took the call outside so I wouldn't disturb your sleep. I don't know what else to say to calm your fears."
"Let's just go to sleep and forget about it," she said turning her back and pulling the covers back up.
N'Jobu curled up behind her and held her waist again. She accepted it this time. He pressed his lips to her ear.
"You want me to talk sexy to you?"
She felt her ears get warm from his soft breath.
"Should I tell you how fine you looked in that blazer, hmmm?"
He flicked his tongue in her ear and then he let his lips snag her earlobe and toy with it. She felt a low whimper escape her lips. He reached for her breast again and gave soft swirls around her areola with his finger. The teasing circles didn't touch her nipple at all. She found herself pressing her rump into his groin.
"You are the only one I want. You believe me?"
He was doing it. That thing. That subtle change in his voice. He nibbled her lobe again and let his index finger skim over the top of her nipple once.
"Tell me you believe me, girl."
She felt her stomach drop.
"Tell me…"
She didn't say anything.
"Let me eat your pussy. Let me show you how I feel about you…"
"Okay," she said feeling a shudder escape with the word.
His fingers drifted down to her shorts and slid them off of her. Pushing back the covers he pulled on her legs and she automatically bent her knees for him. His mouth found her stomach and kissed each of her tattoos before traveling down to the opening of her thighs.
His tongue swiped her puffy inner lips, the tip of it tracing the delicate folds, parting them so that he could get at her center. His soft lips were deliberate in their work and very responsible for the mewling noises she was letting out. But good God, his tongue…
She gazed down at his face and his eyes were on hers.
She lifted up his pillow and pressed it against her mouth so she could scream into the cotton fluff when he finally licked her clit directly.
By the time he was finished with her, she was willing to believe anything he said.
That worried her the most.
Lia's supporters were feeling the momentum of her campaign coming to a close. The final rally they all attended was a rousing success, and Lia gave a powerful speech that encouraged the crowd to keep fighting for their rights even if she lost the election the next day. Many people booed when she mentioned the possibility of losing again.
N'Jobu and Califia stood among the crowd of supporters as they watched Lia on a portable stage. Erik and Marisol stood next to her.
N'Jobu adjusted his sunglasses and watched his son stare down at the crowd as Lia spoke. So many people were there, and Erik's eyes surveyed all the reactions. He was dressed in pressed jeans and a yellow cotton t-shirt with Lia's face on it. It was his favorite shirt to wear the entire time there. Lia was speaking into a bullhorn in the photo and her fist was in the air along with a crowd of Black women behind her holding their fists up too. It was an iconic looking image. Lia's hair on the shirt was free-flowing, thick curls framing her face making her eyes look dynamic and full of purpose.
Califia wore the same shirt while N'Jobu sported several campaign buttons on his plain black t-shirt.
Lia continued speaking and N'Jobu glanced over at Califia who was hanging on to every word spoken.
His woman could be so strong in so many ways, but when it came to him, she became almost fragile with her fears. His mind had been blown by the confession that she thought he had another family back home. She tried to say her nightmares about it was the cause of her worries, but he saw through that. For two years he had gotten on a plane to Wakanda, and she had sat in Oakland believing he was with another woman and fathering other children behind her back. Unbelievable. True, he could easily do it if he wanted to. But why would she really feel that he could do that to her? They had been through so much together. He had given her his heart and his allegiance, forsaken his parents and brother to be there with her, and yet she still entertained the notion that he could be foul like that. And her irrational belief that his talking on the phone a certain way meant he was having an affair. She wasn't handling his War Dog life well at all. He had to admit that. He was so busy trying to keep everything together balancing work, spying, and staying incognito in the open, that he had ignored the impact on his family.
Erik just knew that Baba worked a lot, kept an apartment, and traveled sometimes overnight. Once a year Baba left town for a month to teach at a barber college. That was the story and he and Califia stuck to it. It was such a normal routine since his birth that Erik never questioned it. The apartment was rent controlled and so many people sublet and had complicated living situations around town. His friend James stayed at the apartment many times when he was thrown out by his girlfriend when they fought, and Erik assumed N'Jobu kept the place for wayward friends and relatives.
"Look at him, lording over the crowd," Califia said bumping her arm into his.
N'Jobu looked back over at Erik who was still watching Lia's audience. Marisol was looking bored next to him, whispering in his ear. Erik ignored her, his eyes gazing back up at Lia. He listened to her words and N'Jobu wondered what his boy was thinking. He was constantly surrounded by politics, culture, activism, and art. How was this shaping his outlook on life?
Lia's speech ended and her fist was in the air. Erik raised his fist and he joined in with the crowd as they chanted with Lia.
"What are they saying?"
"Power to the people," Califia said.
There were reporters flocking to the side of the stage.
"I'll get Erik and we can meet over by the car, yeah?" Califia said. N'Jobu nodded and ducked through the crowd avoiding the press and camera people.
Tonight would be their night together as a family. Just the three of them. N'Jobu made reservations under Califia's name at a fancy hotel in the city, the Hotel Cadoro.
Aunjanue loaned them her car and N'Jobu waited for them with the motor running.
When Erik arrived with Califia his face looked sour. He climbed in the back seat and buckled himself up.
"Why the long face?" N'Jobu asked.
"Marisol was crying," Erik said.
"Why?"
"She thought we were going home to Oakland. She hugged me and got stains on my shirt. She was eating a candy bar…I wanted to wear this for the election tomorrow—"
"We can get it cleaned at the hotel, JaJa," Califia said.
"She's so emotional," Erik said.
"She's just going to miss you a lot when you leave, Baby," Califia said.
"But she knows we aren't going until Sunday. A whole week—"
"Hey. She only gets to see you every other year. She can express how she feels," N'Jobu said glancing back at Erik from the rearview mirror.
Erik stared out the window, his lip poked out.
"Fix your face, boy," Califia said.
Their hotel room was on the twenty-first floor, the top, and Erik's face definitely fixed up when he saw the view from the window.
"Whoa!" he exclaimed running up to the window and peering out. The lights in the center of the city were shimmering like polished silver and white jewel stones. Erik's reaction softened N'Jobu's heart. What would his son's reaction be if he could see the view of Birnin Zana from the palace?
"Mom, look!"
"Pretty," Califia said standing next to him. She pulled the curtains open wider.
"Can we stay in and eat?" Erik asked.
"You don't want to go out?" she asked.
"No."
"What would you like to do tonight?" N'Jobu asked placing their overnight bag in the closet.
"Eat hamburgers and watch tv."
Califia giggled.
"Oh, I see. The tv show Xica The Queen comes on tonight…"
Erik's face turned sheepish, and his dimples popped out.
"I knew you liked it a lot. You like the actress who plays Xica," she teased.
"She looks like Auntie Lia."
"Yeah, she kinda does."
Califia looked at N'Jobu.
"Burgers and Xica tonight."
"I'll call room service," N'Jobu said.
They laid up in the king-sized bed together eating burgers and fries with cheesecake for dessert. N'Jobu had to agree that the lead actress in the show did favor Lia, just older. It was a historical drama with some fantasy elements, and Erik was enthralled. Califia was into it too, and every now and then during commercial breaks, the two of them would discuss the previous segment and try to guess what would happen next.
Califia was leaned up against his arm and Erik was sprawled out on her lap. N'Jobu couldn't figure out the appeal of the show. It looked rather low budget and all over the place plot-wise. He nodded off toward the end, the burgers and red wine he drank taking their toll. Erik had shifted his position and was now between N'Jobu and Califia, his head now resting on N'Jobu's chest.
Their hotel room had an additional junior bedroom suite for Erik, but the way his boy was cozied up on him, N'Jobu might not get the chance to try out the king-size bed with Califia alone.
"Why is your bracelet getting warm, Baba?"
The kimoyo beads were pressed against Erik's arm.
N'Jobu moved his wrist and discreetly pressed one of the beads. The signature was from T'Chaka. Shit. He didn't have his scrambler with him, so if he answered the call, his locater would show his brother that he was not in Oakland. Questions would be asked that didn't need asking. He had a least twenty-four hours to ignore the call before his brother would try again. And if he didn't answer by then…trouble. Another War Dog would come searching for him in Oakland. And if he weren't there…
"It gets sensitive to body heat. It is warm in here. And you are all over me."
Erik tried to touch the beads again, but N'Jobu shifted his body reaching for the remote. "What else is on?" N'Jobu asked.
He flipped through the onscreen guide. Erik was staring at his beads.
"I want to watch the news," Califia said.
"Boring," Erik said.
"Well go in your room and watch what you want to watch," Califia said.
N'Jobu turned on the news, Erik's face looked deflated.
"Go on, and don't stay up too late. We are meeting Auntie Lia and everyone for breakfast and then we go to the polls," she said.
"What about my shirt?"
"Lia is bringing you a new one in the morning," she said.
Erik kissed Califia on the cheek and swung his face back around and kissed N'Jobu's cheek. He bounced off their bed and meandered over to his room.
Picking up his cell, N'Jobu saw that there was a missed call from T'Chaka. The fake code name they used popped up at the same time his beads warmed up. He showed the phone to Califia. She sat up on the bed.
"I'll have to leave soon—"
"Why? Please, not on election day—"
"I have a little over twenty-four hours to reply. I must be in Oakland when I do—"
"Just text him back—"
"Califia…I can't. I'll stay for the election, but I have to find a flight out tomorrow night or early the next morning. If I don't, it will cause me problems with my brother."
"Okay," she said, her voice gone small.
"I wasn't expecting a call from him. I have no idea what he wants."
"Just tell him you are tracking someone—"
"We have War Dogs here. They would handle it."
"Then tell him you are on a vacation-"
"I would have to notify them of any movement outside of the U.S. prior to going."
"Then you should've told him you were coming here weeks ago!"
She held her hand to her face.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell like that. We'll deal with it," she said picking up her phone off of the nightstand.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Trying to find you a flight out of here."
He took her phone from her hand and placed it next to his on the other nightstand.
"I'll do that later," he said.
"I don't want you to get in trouble."
"Don't worry about that. We will support Lia tomorrow. She will win the election. I'll fly home and be there for you and Erik when you return."
"We'll leave with you—"
"No, be here for your friend. Support your family."
She nodded. They watched the news of pre-election coverage, saw clips of interviews with Lia and her opponents. It would be a tight race, but pundits were confident of Lia's potential victory.
N'Jobu left their room to go check on Erik when it got late.
His son was sound asleep with the TV running infomercials. His body was twisted up in his bed covers. N'Jobu turned off the tv and tucked the bed covers around Erik's shoulders. He padded back across to Califia and she was snuggled under the blankets.
N'Jobu turned the TV volume up a bit and crawled in next to her. He bent down to kiss her and her eyes were bright.
"We'll be fine, alright?" he said.
He kissed her thinking a light peck was all she wanted, and he considered turning the TV off if she just wanted to sleep, but her lips held his seeking more. Chaste smooches turned into deeper and wetter kisses. She seemed desperate for affection. He slowed down her lips by breaking away from her and kissing her neck. She helped him pull off her top and bra, and by the time he had his pants and shirt off, she was naked under him. He kissed her breasts and licked her belly button while she rubbed circles on his scalp. She pulled him back up so she could kiss him again, and he drank from her lips.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and he rested his growing erection on her mound but kept kissing her. He wanted her to lead. He wanted her to be in control of what happened between them at this moment. He was worried about the call from his brother. He didn't want to show his own fear. His mind tried to come up with various scenarios as to what T'Chaka wanted. He spoke to his parents prior to going to Brazil, but he and T'Chaka still had a chilly relationship at times. There was pressure at home for T'Chaka to re-marry along with the political problems from within their own class. Zinzi tried to keep N'Jobu abreast of the issues from home, but his main concern was his influence over several War Dogs throughout the globe. Was his brother aware of the allegiance some were giving N'Jobu?
He was still feeling out ideas on what he wanted to do, still weighing the pros and cons of how to change the direction of thinking in Wakanda. He just knew that he couldn't sit back and let the world roll over Black people who were struggling. His son was in this world. His woman was in this world. He needed to figure out a way to make changes and force his brother to accept these changes. It was unacceptable for him to see the outside world function the way it did when all it would take was for Wakanda to step in and act. Take over. America was a poor excuse for a superpower and world leader. Wakanda needed to take that role. He had to change minds. And the first ones were other War Dogs who saw what he saw and agreed with him.
But what if T'Chaka knew about his secret meetings and talks?
He held Califia tight and let her have his tongue, mouth, and lips.
"I need you," he panted into her ear when he was desperate to escape his thoughts that intruded on her comforting him. He was losing himself in her lips. Her fingers caressed the back of his neck and he looked down at his dick. They were both sticky from the excitement of kissing. He rubbed himself against her folds. He could feel the tickling of her clit ring grazing the underside of his thickness and hear the wetness oozing between them as they moved.
He let his tip tease the entrance of her. Gazing at her face he saw that her lips were pursed and that lusty haze in her eyes had returned. He adored that look on her. It let him know her pussy was ready. He continued the gentle rubbing, his tip spilling a thick stream of pre-cum all over her ring making her more slippery. The fat lips of her outer labia cradled his dick and he could see that her clit was swollen enough now that the hood was pulling back. Her whimpers intensified but the TV was helping drown out her noise.
He was ready to lay pipe on her.
Sliding the weight of his dick in her folds, her clit ring hit a spot on his frenulum that made him moan loud enough over the sound of the tv.
"Fuck me," she panted.
He wanted to ram himself deep in her, but he wanted to stretch this exquisite sensation even longer.
"Look at this fat pussy," he said staring down at her center.
"Jobu…"
He closed his eyes for a second and then kept watching her clit.
"You know how to take care of Daddy—"
"Baby…please…fuck me…"
He groaned again. Her voice trembled now, the core of her begging revving up the nerve endings in his skin. This was his shit right here, the sound of his woman on the verge of cumming, begging for his dick. He shifted his weight so he could press his erection against her a little harder. She was still a little tender down there, but it was too late to turn back.
"Huhnhhhh…"
She was trying to keep quiet. It didn't matter now. Erik would either sleep through this, or he would get an earful. Fortunately, the boy was a hard sleeper.
"You like this big dick on you?"
"…fuck me…"
"You want me to punish this pussy again…is that what you want?"
She tried lifting up but he held her arms down at her sides.
"Tell Daddy what you want…"
She twisted her hips and her clit ring rubbed him at a different angle.
"Oh…you bitch…," he stammered.
She twisted again and he moved slower and harder. Her clit was twitching now. It was difficult for him to focus, his balls felt weighted down and his tip was spilling more pre-cum.
"Please," she yelped and he felt a shuddering ride up his back.
"You want this…"
"…bay-bee…I can't…"
"Tell me what you want…"
"Aiyyy! Baby!"
"Yes?"
"…fuck…fuck…oh…shit…fuck my pussy…"
He couldn't hold back and plunged in, shocking her senses and knocking a moan out of her.
He kept his thrusts slow so she would keep begging him for more.
"I'm in this pussy now, girl. See how deep I'm going…mmmhmmmm, I know you feel all of this. That's it, give me what I want."
Slow. Deep.
He was losing himself once more inside of her.
He interlaced his fingers with hers on both hands and kept penetrating her depths. The thick mattress and solid frame didn't make noise, so he was able to move his hips any way he liked without worrying about waking their son. He really began to put his back into it.
Peppering her neck and shoulder with kisses he clung to Califia. Her thighs squeezed his waist and he sank deeper into her.
"Califia," he gasped.
He released her hands and she reached up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
"I got you," she whispered in his ear.
His hands reached under her and gripped her ass cheeks. Pumping to save his life he didn't stifle his groans.
"You know how to take care of me so well. Just you…just you…Baby, I love you so much…"
He spilled into her, his primal yelled absorbed by the sheets that his face was pressed into. A heavy load of semen left his body and he didn't want to let her go.
Heart hammering and legs weakened, N'Jobu pulled out of her. His dick still seeped cum from the tip when he was out of her and he stroked himself to release the rest watching it drip down onto her clit ring.
Califia slipped her fingers around her swollen nub and rubbed herself, her eyes on his still erect dick as a long string of cum dangled from it. He stuck two fingers inside of her pussy feeling the aftermath of his ejaculation, and Califia sucked in a breath. He watched her orgasm give her release and he groaned when her pussy tightened on his digits. He held still until she had finished shaking and her body relaxed.
"This will be a long night," he said releasing his fingers and getting off the bed.
She smiled at him and stretched.
"Be right back," he said and headed for the bathroom.
Califia rolled on her side and felt a deep smile widen her mouth.
Their sex in Brazil had been out this world and she wanted more. The disappointment she felt because he had to leave them before their trip had ended subsided. He was remorseful and apologetic. Just now he fucked her like he missed her already, and she felt that she could cope with the change in their travel plans.
His cell phone lit up on the nightstand.
She watched it for a moment and then slid her hand over to pick it up. When she tried to swipe it to check the call, she found that he had locked his phone.
He had never locked his phone before.
She heard him washing his hands and she put his cell back where he had it.
He found her in the same position he had left her in when he returned to their bed.
"Me next," she said jumping up and running to the bathroom.
She peed first then washed her hands and face. Staring at herself in the mirror, she tried to fix the tears that were trying to fall out of her eyes. She wiped her face with cool water on a hand towel, and when she returned to N'Jobu, he was lying on his back.
"Come sit on my face baby," he told her.
So many mixed feelings passed through her. She wanted to ask why his phone was locked. His hands were beckoning her to come to him and she did. She couldn't help it. He made her body feel too damn good. And right now she just wanted to feel loved.
She crawled over his face and sat on his tongue. Looking behind her as he ate her out, she saw his hand stroke his dick.
"Make this pussy feel good, Daddy," she said lifting up a bit so his tongue could lick her from front to back.
"You taste so good, girl," he said, his breath hot on her clit giving her shivers as his voice vibrated on her folds.
His cell lit up again when she was cumming in his mouth. Someone really wanted him.
"Fuck me again," she told him while wiping a tear from her eye.
Chapter 18 HERE.
16 notes · View notes
qethnehzul · 6 years ago
Text
Tongues - Chapter VI
Tumblr media
[Dovahzul translation can be found at the bottom of the post]
“Ahrk het Zu’u mindol daar hi aal neh daal. Ved vokun lost daal vul lien. Lost hi bo fah do daar?”
They new that voice. The Traitor. The one in the pit, the one that writhes, the one with empty eyes and oily chains. A nightmare they had not missed.
Branches of burnt trees reached up and formed a lattice of otherworldly knotwork, making a mockery of a aviary above them. Stark white light from a unknown source far in the empty void above creeping shadows down onto the dust below, framing the pit of sizzling black acid where the Traitor basked.
The beast turned his mighty head, the multitude of eyes that speckled everywhere but where eyes belonged twitching and turning to watch them all at once, expectant for an answer.
And still, as always, they gave no answer. What answer did they have to give, for a question they could not understand?
The Traitor let out a great sigh, his head falling to the earth below in a cloud of pale particulates.
“Ahrk mulhaan, hi tinvaak nid. Mindoli fiik daal zu’u.” His tone sounded pained, disappointed.
They shifted in discomfort. Why were they irritated? Was it at them? They hesitated, trying to ignore the empty gaze the Traitor gave them. No response. They finally turned. A way out of this nightmare. To anywhere, anything but this.
“Hi haalvut med hi het,” he said wistfully.
They paused in their examination of the cage wall, turning to look back at him again. Tentacles writhed over what they could only assume was his body. He shifted, acid making a sickening slurping noise as he did so.
“Zu’u vahzah daar vod? Lost Zu’u meyz daar krent hahdrimaan daar Zu’u sahvot hi nahlaas?” His chuckle was pitiful. He strained at his bindings, the tendrils and chains that bound him holding fast. He tensed, before giving up and falling back into the pit in a splash of acid that hissed and ate at the things around him.
They made no response. They never had any response to him. Just a struggle to get away. For once, he made no sign of aggression.
The faint glimmer of eyes in his sockets made them tense and hold their ground, pressed against the side of the cage in hopes that it might give away into another dream.
“Rok fen du Lein us daar horvut kren. Nunon ruz aal daar pah meyza oblaana. Nii fen pah kos nahlot ruz.”
The world warped around them. The trees stretched further up, reaching their blackened hands into the empty sky before it turned a bloody, violent red. Fire rained down around them, setting trees ablaze. Their eyes saw the twisted forms of men and horses streaking through the blaze, charred and burning. The remains of buildings like their own skeletons stretched out in the ash. The smell of burnt flesh. A great, black shadow, and smoldering red eyes.
They wanted to wake up. They wanted this to just go away.
The Traitor watched them, the embers reflected in black eyes.
“Hi drey koraav rok.”
Enough of this. Just replaying the things they didn’t want to recall. They were just stressed. It was just a nightmare.
“Ruz hi fen mindok tol tiid maltiid.”
The beat of wings. The sting of ash and smoke in their eyes. The pounding of their heart. A sense of desperation and panic. Hopelessness.
“Mu aal stin us Zu’u koraav hi. Paak.”
The world spun around them. The thunderous sound of fire made their ears ring, and yet the Traitor’s voice still came through loud and clear as the only distinguishable noise above the cacophony.
“Hi lost paar fahdon, orin hi neh tinvaak.”
The rushing sound of something great crashing down. Everything becoming too loud, too inescapable. The shouts and noises of every animal and man they had ever heard. The scalding burn of fire on their face. Too much, too fast.
Zu’u dreh ni laan dira.
Translations:
Ahrk het Zu’u mindol daar hi aal neh daal. Ved vokun lost daal vul lien. Lost hi bo fah do daar? - And here I thought that you would never return. A black shadow has returned to darken the world. Have you come because of that?
Ahrk mulhaan, hi tinvaak nid. Mindoli fiik daal zu’u. - And still, you say nothing. My thoughts reflect and return to me.
Hi haalvut med hi het - You feel like you are here.
Zu’u vahzah daar vod? Lost Zu’u meyz daar krent hahdrimaan daar Zu’u sahvot hi nahlaas? - Am I truly that gone? Have I become so broken minded that I believe you are alive?
Rok fen du Lein us daar horvut kren. Nunon ruz aal daar pah meyza oblaana. Nii fen pah kos nahlot ruz. - He will devour the world before this trap breaks. Only then may this all come to an end. It will all be silent then.
Hi drey koraav rok. - You have seen him.
Ruz hi fen mindok tol tiid maltiid. - Then you must know that time is short
Mu aal stin us Zu’u koraav hi. Paak. - We might be free before I see you. Shame.
Hi lost paar fahdon, orin hi neh tinvaak. - You were a desired companion, even if you never spoke.
Zu'u dreh ni laan dira. - I don’t want to die.
3 notes · View notes
alifeoflesbionage · 7 years ago
Text
The Wounds of Our Past
AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12484632
Summary: The war is over. Peggy and Angie have settled in to a happy life in the house they borrow from Howard. Life goes on in a comfortable routine of bliss until one night Angie is late getting home.The sounds of screaming outside send Peggy reeling out of the house to find Angie in the clutches of a monster.
A monster who had been locked away in a coffin of blood for centuries. A monster named Mircalla.
The fire burned low in the grate from neglect, hiccuping sparks every few minutes. Peggy sat with her works splayed across the table in front of her, paying no attention to the dying fire. Her brow scrunched in frustration as she squinted down at the crime scene photos she’d been looking at on and off for the past three hours trying to pick out any details that might give her a clue about what happened.
The old grandfather clock in the corner bellowed out the twelve chimes that signaled midnight. Peggy looked up with a start. The room had gotten much darker since the last time she had looked up and long shadows crept across the floor from the dim light the lamp on her desk cast around her. She stared at the clock as if she didn’t quite believe it was midnight already.
“Angie, darling, are you home?” Peggy called as she stood and stretched. Rehearsal should have ended half an hour ago which meant Angie should be home by now, but Peggy hadn’t heard her come in.
“Angie?” she called again. Her stockinged feet were silent on the thick rug as she plodded out into the hall, flipping on lights as she went. A glance at the coat rack next to the front door told Peggy that Angie wasn’t home yet. Rehearsal must have run late. Though, it was unusual for Angie to stay late without calling to let Peggy know.
Pushing aside her concern, Peggy continued on to the kitchen to get a pot of tea ready for when Angie did finally get home. She hummed a soft tune to herself as she filled the kettle and set it on the burner. As it heated up she stretched and twisted, listening to the popping of her joints with satisfaction.The kettle whistled merrily, and still Angie wasn’t home.
Peggy shoved aside her worry as she readied two cups of tea and carried them off to the parlor where she rekindled the fire and tidied her desk. The clock ticked, and Peggy started to pace. Her eyes flitted to the clock every time she passed her desk. Her fingers brushed against the drawer where her gun was tucked away. It had been almost an hour, and still no trace of Angie. Unable to put aside her mounting worry, Peggy sat back down at her desk and dug through her drawers in search of the number for the theatre.
A scream from outside shattered the silence that had persisted for the past several hours. Peggy dropped the phone receiver and raced out into the hall, her gun in her hand. She didn’t bother with a coat or shoes as she burst out the door and ran down the walk toward the street. She knew that scream from many late nights running lines.
“Angie!” she shouted as the cold pavement stung her feet and loose pebbles ripped at the soles of her stockings.
From behind a bush she heard whimpers and a strange gurgling sound. Careful not to make any noise, she tiptoed around the bushes and trained her gun on the shadowy figure hunched on the other side. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the street, and the shadowy shape solidified. Horror made her stomach lurch, and she had to clench her teeth from being ill right there in the middle of the sidewalk.
A creature with pallid skin and sunken eyes hunched over Angie’s frozen frame. Her teeth were buried deep in the tender flesh of Angie’s neck as she made strange slurping noises that sent a shiver up Peggy’s spine. Tendrils of crimson blood stained her cheeks and chin and soaked into the collar of Angie’s dress. The scene was like a nightmare - worse than a nightmare.
“You get away from her,” Peggy demanded as she stepped forward, gun raised and eyes full of angry fire.
The creature - no, the girl, it was a girl - glanced up and stared at Peggy with a lifeless gaze that made the hair on the back of Peggy’s neck stand on end. At the sight of the gun her eyes widened, and she pulled her teeth from Angie’s neck. Angie whimpered and turned a desperate gaze on Peggy.
“It’s alright, darling, I’m here,” Peggy called out in the calmest voice she could manage.
“I said, let her go, or I’ll bury a bullet in your brain,” Peggy said, looking back at the girl, the anger seeping back into her voice.
“Can’t kill.” The girl rasped out, her voice as dry as the yellowed pages of books untouched for centuries.
“You clearly don’t know me,” Peggy spat back.
They stared at each other. Lifeless, empty eyes watched Peggy as though wondering if she really would pull the trigger. Her grip loosened, and Angie fell to the ground with a hard thump that elicited another whimper. As soon as she was free, Angie dragged herself toward Peggy, too panicked to try to stand.
Gun still trained on the blood stained girl, Peggy stooped and pulled a terrified Angie to her feet. With Angie tucked close to her side Peggy felt the tightness in her chest dissipate just a little, but not enough. Angie clung to her side, shaking and gasping as blood still oozed out of the deep wound in her neck. She needed medical attention immediately, but Peggy couldn’t just let the girl get away.
“Who are you? What are you?”
Agony flashed across the girl’s face, and she clutched her stomach. “Hungry. So hungry.”
Peggy raised her voice, her face hardening. “What is your name?”
The girl reached for them. Peggy took a step back, yanking Angie with her.
“Please,” the girl breathed her voice as hollow as her eyes. A string of gibberish fell from her lips, and Peggy realized the girl was speaking another language. She recognized it from her years in the war - German.
Peggy tried again, this time in the broken German she had picked up over the years. “Who are you? What are you?”
The girl’s eyes sparked to life at the familiar language, but darkened as she shook her head. “Just shoot me. It will be better.”
The despair in the girl’s eyes as she looked away, down at her blood soaked hands left an ache in Peggy’s chest that made Peggy want to squirm with discomfort. “Not until you tell me who you are, and why you are here. Who sent you?”
“No one.”
A cold breeze kicked up around them and sent a shower of dead leaves fluttering to the ground. The brisk wind seemed to pull Peggy out of the strange trance that had fallen over the three of them. She glanced up and down the empty street and felt the urgent need to get out of sight. She was sure at least one person had likely heard Angie scream, and Peggy didn’t really want to explain the current scene to the neighbors.
“You’re coming with me. Go, into that house.” She brandished her gun toward the house she and Angie still borrowed from Howard, it’s door left hanging open in Peggy’s haste to get to Angie.
The girl raised her eyebrows. “What?”
“You heard me. Go. Unless you want the neighbors to find us out here like this.”
Fear flashed in the girl’s eyes. Her hands opened and closed several times before she turned and skittered toward the house, her eyes never leaving Peggy’s gun. Peggy gathered Angie to her side, tightened her grip on her gun, and followed. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest as she followed the girl, or creature, or whatever she was up to the house and wondered what horror she was bringing into her and Angie’s life.
Once inside Peggy instructed the still shaking Angie to bolt the door as she marched the girl through to the kitchen where Peggy knew she had a sturdy length of rope tucked away in one of the drawers. The girl didn’t even protest as Peggy ordered her into a chair and proceeded to tie her to it.
“If you even think about trying to escape while I’m gone, know that you won’t get very far,” Peggy warned her before all but turning and running from the kitchen. She found Angie slumped against the wall in the hallway, eyes closed and breathing fast and shallow.
“Come on, love. You’re alright,” Peggy murmured as she hoisted Angie back to her feet and hurried her upstairs where she could better assess her injury. Peggy hoped it wasn’t too severe, she didn’t know how she would explain the strange bite marks to the doctors at the hospital. They looked like something out of a horror movie, and the monsters out of horror movies didn’t exist.
Or did they?
2 notes · View notes
ecotone99 · 5 years ago
Text
American Nightmare
I got sick. It doesn’t matter how. Doctors tell me I have severe pneumonia. You know that’s wrong. I do too. But, I caught it late. Paranoid suburbanites used up almost all the tests in my area. Now, the cost for a single test is over $1000. I don’t have healthcare. Breathing costs my retirement fund $1500 every day. I can’t afford rent, let alone some overpriced test. Anyone within my infection’s reach could catch the disease. Doctors. Patients. Visitors. I'm ashamed. But what can I do? Young people with strong immune systems don’t worry about dying from things like the flu. But, I do. At my age, fighting off a lung infection is easier said than done. That test is a day’s oxygen. What if I die because I’m $1000 short?
Do you know what a mechanical ventilator feels like? A doctor stuck two lubricated tubes into my mouth and plunged them down my throat, invading my lungs. The machine breathes for me. Every time the machine breathes in, I imagine it overfilling my lungs, popping them. Every time the machine breathes out, it slurps up fluid from my lungs, vibrating my ribs from the inside. My respiratory therapist tells me it’s common to find breathing uncomfortable. Screw uncomfortable. It’s agony. If I had control, I could stop breathing whenever the “discomfort” got too intense. But, I don’t have control. Mechanical respirators don’t feel pain. They mercilessly breathe through the pain twenty times per minute.
A nurse came to check on me last night. He tried to make pleasantries. It took him a couple questions to realize that the tube in my mouth silenced me. Without speaking, as if I were deaf, he placed the remote next to my hand. Shaking from weakness, I picked it up and turned on the news. The nurse stayed to watch, eager for a break.
On TV, a montage dedicated to celebrity pandemic scares. One by one, an anchorman listed off famous celebrities and influencers. Each one, he assured us, had doctors flown to their homes for private testing. Fortunately, he assured us, none were sick. Eventually the montage cut to a commentator. He wore a blue suit and a stars and stripes pin. He said:
“This is why I love American healthcare. People can buy quality treatment whenever they need it. Can you imagine waiting in a socialist public emergency room during this pandemic? If you weren’t sick when you came in, you are now!” As the anchorman paused, the nurse smiled.
“Now this is what America needs. Someone positive. I’m sick of all the negativity going around. Right?” The nurse looked at me as if expecting a response. “Oh, right. Sorry.” He made a break for the door, remembering his duties. I turned off the TV.
Alone in the dark with my thoughts, I wanted to scream. But, instead, I just cried and braced myself for nightmares about death, exploding lungs, and my inevitable eviction.
submitted by /u/ArlinBradley [link] [comments] source https://www.reddit.com/r/shortscarystories/comments/flum61/american_nightmare/ via Blogger https://ift.tt/392fjQ9
0 notes