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akittyboy · 3 months ago

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Another Life (part 5): the end

Sweet Home FF | Hyunsu x Eunhyuk

Hyunsu doesn't understand what's going on, doesn't understand the sick feeling twisting in his gut, the strange thundering of his heart that resonates through his whole body like a shockwave. The monster stirs finally inside of him, dark and smooth, rearing its ugly head. And for a little while Hyunsu doesn't even remember where he is, eyes glazing over.

Wet snowflakes whirl through the cold air, finding their way inside of the collapsing structure of Green Home apartments. Everyone has already fled the building through the underground tunnel. It's just Hyunsu there, clothes in tatters, body and mind shattered, standing barefoot under the damaged alcove of the first floor entrance, right where the reinforced truck had rammed straight into the building.

Unfazed by the blasts of military fire, igniting with bright flares somewhere far off in the murky distance, Hyunsu stares blankly at Yeongsu's pink fleece scarf wrapped around his arm. It's a gentle reminder to keep himself warm, but he's cold. And alone. Exactly what he's always wished to be; for everyone to just disappear and stop tormenting him.

Even so, he never meant for his intrusive thoughts to become everyone's reality.

Was it his fault — all of this too? This strange apocalypse?

After all, so many people have already died as a result of Hyunsu's incompetence. He'd been too late to save Jaeheon and the one to let Uimyeong in. He'd killed Han Dusik with his bare hands. And now, how many more would have to die because of him? Maybe Hyunsu should've jumped off a bridge, just like Kim Dohun edged him to, plunging straight into ice-cold water, letting the harsh streams rip his body apart, before any of this could even begin. If he hadn't been such a coward, maybe then his family would still be alive. If only he hadn't foolishly hoped for something to change; for his cowardly friends to grow a backbone or perhaps his parents to see past their own selfish greed, past their superficial fear of not being able to live up to social norms. If only he could — but he couldn't.

It's unfair.

What had he done that was so wrong? Why was he worth less? Why did he have to stay silent and just take it?

Why couldn't he just kill them all?

It that what you want?

Dazed, Hyunsu still manages to catch movement out of the corner of his eye and his messy head turns sluggishly around, shoulders curled inward, legs tense and ready to spring. It's hard to tell what's real and what's merely the demon lurking inside his head when the cacophony of wicked whispers intensify into a surging roar, bleeding straight into his thoughts and clogging everything with KILL! KILL! KILL!

His right hand curls into a tight fist, nails digging into his palm. He can feel his skin bristling and bubbling, splitting apart along the length of his forearm as shards start to push through the scar, an agonizing burn forming at the base of his spine all the while his body fights against the unnatural change. Whether Hyunsu wants it or not, his body is ready to fight, to smash, to throw the impending threat around.

His teeth ache, so he clenches harder.

But it's just Eunhyuk, dirty jeans and red flannel. A shard of light splinters from the bright military beams outside and skitters with a harsh glint across his glasses, briefly shielding Eunhyuk's eyes from view. As the leader of their ragtag team of residents, reduced to nothing but mere scraps in the span of a few hours, he still manages to stand tall and unyielding like a warrior amongst the surrounding rubble, thin lips pressed into a tight line.

Keeping his gaze on Hyunsu, Eunhyuk takes a wary step in his direction, all the while yanking on the thin wire connected to his earbuds, ripping both pieces of plastic from his ears when the shrieking signal reaches an unbearable volume, piercing through his brain, warning him about the monster in close vicinity.

And somehow, seeing a familiar face amidst the ruins of their home, no matter how ambiguous their relationship has been, makes Hyunsu's whole world turn on its axis, rewinding everything that's ever happened. The voices stop. His knees buckle as he begins to crash like a deadweight to the ground, but Eunhyuk is there to catch him.

They both stagger to the side as Eunhyuk gathers Hyunsu's gangly limbs into his arms and holds him in a bone-crushing grip; an arm around his crumbling waist and a surprisingly steady hand fisted into his greasy hair. Slightly taller, Hyunsu folds easily around him, putting the full weight of his uncoordinated limbs onto Eunhyuk.

It feels familiar, Hyunsu notes vaguely from within the crook of Eunhyuk's neck. Yet he hasn't been in such close proximity — that didn't entail killing one another — with anyone in weeks, months, maybe even years. Not even his mother hugged him like this. Hyunsu's heart misses a beat at this particular thought, followed by a pang of sharp pain through his chest when a sea of white chrysanthemums flashes through his mind — identical black stripes running across three picture frames.

Thankfully, he doesn't get much time to linger within those awful memories when a powerful explosion shakes whatever's left of Green Home apartments with renewed force. Eunhyuk swiftly ducks his head with a muffled swear word but he doesn't stop clutching tightly at Hyunsu, tugging him even closer with a harsh grip on his neck to keep him safe, Eunhyuk's palm sticky with sweat and grime against Hyunsu's skin. The bearing walls groan alarmingly as more debris rains over them with big chunks of cement blocks and plaster clattering to the ground, peppering their hair with flecks of white, forcing both of them to inhale a mixture of smoke and cement dust that whirls over heir heads in hazy billows.

Huynsu's chest wheezes with each agonizing breath. He can feel Eunhyuk's ribcage stutter alarmingly as well and it sends a spike of irrational worry through him; Eunhyk is human. He can't die. Not yet. Not like this. Hyunsu grinds his teeth to hold back the ripping wail that suddenly wants to crawl up his throat, and clings only tighter to Eunhyuk instead.

Maybe if he could just get control over his wing? Then he'd be able to shield them both from death and destruction.

"I repeat, you're all surrounded," an autonomous voice booms from the outside, cruelly invading their space. "Surrender the infected and we will spare your lives!"

A helicopter whirs far too close by the gaping hole in the wall, the loud noise scattering across the ruins of Green Home. A beam of bright light swipes against the bare walls in search of them.

Hyunsu panics, pushed into a corner like some wild animal without an actual choice of his own, his whole body starts to spasm in Eunhyuk's arms. His right arm twitches, flesh ripping apart and knotting back together as he fights the rampaging monster inside of him. It's like a rabid dog, trying to tear itself off its leash, scrambling madly to the front of Hyunsu's mind, set on taking control.

Let me out, the monster demands. Let me out so I can KILL everyone, and then you'll be free... don't you want that?

Don't you want that, Hyunsu?

Hyunsu can't control it when his head snaps back, lips already parted, eyes glazing over into pure darkness.

But then Eunhyuk's low whisper cuts through the chaos inside his head as he traps Hyunsu's trashing body within the circle of his arms.

"You're okay. Everything will be alright," he soothes.

Those words are an obvious lie, yet Hyunsu can't help the gasping breath of air that suddenly finds its way down and then back up again from the very depths of his chest. The tormenting storm settles inside of him. Everything feels suddenly clearer, quieter. And with the decrepit sense of relief come the hot tears, rapidly welling up in his eyes, causing his vision to blur. He can't help it. His sanity is nothing but a thin, silver thread struggling in the wind.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles as he crumbles, voice thick with tears. "I'm sorry."

Eunhyuk is the only one to ever look at him like a real person; someone to depend on rather than an inconvenience, even now, when Hyunsu could so easily hurt him.

Hyunsu squeezes closer with a wet sob, burrowing his damp face even deeper into Eunhyuk's shoulder, hiding from whatever's out there. The military. The monsters. An unknown future. A life without Eunhyuk. Death. His trembling fingers clutch at the stiff, unwashed fabric of Eunhyuk's shirt as he clings to him, finding home in the curve of his neck, breathing in Eunhyuk's comforting scent of sweat and musk and something so purely human, so alive. It sets his insides on fire, pooling like liquid gold in the pit of his stomach... but for what purpose?

Hyunsu knows that he eventually — soon — now has to leave, give himself up for the sake of this decaying world, to at least save the others. Save Eunhyuk and Eunyu.

He was planning to die anyway, had even set a date for it. With all things considered, he was already a dead man walking.

Yet, he yearns for someone to save him, to reach a hand out through the dense darkness holding him in its embrace and whisk him away from this nightmare. Even back then, when they held him down and punched and kicked him over and over again during recess, or when they poured dirty mop water over his head in the school bathrooms, he wished that someone would say something — anything. Take his side, see him, make him feel human and not like an abomination, who deserved to be treated like that to repent for whatever unknown crimes he's committed.

And Eunhyuk did. It might not have come from a good place initially but he still took a gamble and placed his life in Hyunsu's hands. He'd seen Hyunsu as an equal, as someone capable enough to trust in times of need, when his own family never even tried.

This belief sparks a strange desire inside of Hyunsu.

Something vile and shiny crawls in under his skin and stays there, simmering under the surface.

In the end, he pulls away, forlornly watching Eunhyuk's arms fall back to his sides, which causes a puff of dust rise into the air from his clothes. Hyunsu wipes awkwardly at the dampness clouding his eyes with the heel of his hand, making an even worse mess out of his dirty face than before, and then carefully unwinds Yeongsu's scarf from around his right arm. He doesn't want to ruin it, although it's pretty much soiled with blood and dust already.

"I should've given it back," he whispers, voice hoarse, as he presses the soft fabric into Eunhyuk's hand, fingers eerily cold when they brush against Eunhyuk's. It's just a piece of fleece but it feels like something else, something more.

Eunhyuk stares at him pensively through the cracked lenses of his glasses, but then nods once in understanding while clutching at the pink scarf. The muscles strain around his mouth and his chin quivers faintly as he holds back whatever's eating at him, clawing viciously at his insides, looking for a way out. Eunhyuk's nose stings, warming with an oncoming tickle of blood, but he holds that back too.

And perhaps there are things Eunhyuk could've done better, words he should've said, but none of that matters now. It's the end of both of them anyway.

"It's not too late," Eunhyuk tries nonetheless, even if he doesn't believe it himself. But what would he be, if he wasn't a master at extracting himself from his personal feelings?

Huysun shakes his head sluggishly in reply, expression already vacant, mind miles away from the present. He has already made up his mind and Eunhyuk's heart sinks, shoulders dropping in disappointment. Maybe he did believe in his own lie, after all.

Hyunsu's eyes are completely black, gleaming like onyx marbles in the dark, when he strides catatonically past Eunhyuk, through the main Green Home entrance and finally steps out into the illuminating snow, where the biting wind instantly tugs and bats at the tattered scraps of his clothes. Where Eunhyuk can hear gun shots being fired.

Retrospectively, it never even occurred to Hyunsu that Eunhyuk wasn't planning on leaving together with the rest of the Green Home survivors.

<< previous part | next part >>

#sweet home #sweet home season 1 #cha hyunsu #cha hyun-soo #lee eunhyuk #fanfic #mxm #hyunsu x eunhyuk #flashback #kdrama #can be read as a standalone or a one shot

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alex-guerin · 10 months ago

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All of this!! I have lived in Illinois all my 35+ years, and I can attest that this is all truth!!

I would like to add a few, if I may, dear OP?

10) Layers are your friend. Seriously. Y'know those old fashion longjohns in cartoons and shit? Those things are AMAZING!! I wore a thermal shirt to work yesterday because it was so cold and I work in a poorly heated massive warehouse, and between that shirt and the hoodie I had on over it, I was melting. Co-worker had longjohn pants on under her jeans and she was about to die. Find thermal clothes to wear under your regular clothes. They will keep you so much warmer! There's even a good chance your local Walmart sells them (at least for AFABs) in the intimates department. That's where I have found mine.

11) Remember this character from Doctor Who?

This cat? Yeah, them! Yeah, pretend that's you. Moisturizer yourself. The cold is going to chap EVERYTHING! Especially skin exposed to the air directly. I was out shoveling the driveway Saturday, was only out for maybe 45 mins, came in and immediately had to put chapstick on and moisturizer on my cheeks and nose cuz they had dried out. The cold don't mess around, bro. Keep yourself moisturized.

12) Keep enough gas in your tank that if you DO end up stranded somewhere, you can keep your car running and the heater going and don't freeze. I have always been told during the winter to ALWAYS, no matter what, ALWAYS have AT LEAST a half a tank of gas at all times, just in case. The one year I ended up with two flat tires and sat stranded on the side of the road for two hours (...it was not a good night, lemme tell ya...), I was very glad to have listened to my folks and had over half a tank, cuz it kept me warm and cozy until I was able to get hold of someone able to come pick me up. Plus, if need be, if the power goes out and you have no heat, so long as your car isn't parked in a garage (DO. NOT. KEEP. A. RUNNING. CAR. IN. YOUR. GARAGE. Do not make me have to repeat that and add in the 👏 between each word!), you can go sleep in it with it running, or at least try to warm yourself up for a while. I maybe wouldn't try sleeping in it for very long, but y'know, absolute needs must.

13) Keep a close eye on your pets. Just because they have a nice thick coat of fur, doesn't mean they can't get frostbite, too. Their little toe beans are exposed to the frozen ground. Imagine if you were standing outside barefoot for more than a few minutes when it's this cold? You wouldn't like it, and neither do they. Especially if they're a hound dog. They have a lot of ear and a lot of nose that gets cold very very quickly. Make sure you aren't leaving them outside without somewhere warm and dry to curl up in.

And my last point I'd like to add...

14) Check in on your neighbors. Make sure they're okay. Especially if they're older or have very very young kids. Does the Granny and Tweety Bird across the street need anything from the grocery store? Offer to go pick it up for them so they don't have to worry about slipping and falling on ice. Offer to salt their sidewalks and driveways for them and clear them in case emergency vehicles need to get to them. The furnace at Mama Bear and Baby Bear's house next door died and no one can get there to fix it until next week? Hey, couches were invented for people to crash on when they need a place. Or if you are mechanically inclined, offer to take a look at it for them and fix it if you can.

Be kind to your neighbors, be helpful. This cold sucks, but it's only around for a little while. You just gotta stay brave, stay smart, and stay safe.

You got this, my Southern and Southwestern friends!

So Your Temperate Home is Suddenly an Arctic Hellscape

As -10F hits area’s of the US who’ve never seen such temperatures in living memory, I wanted to give some tips from a Minnesotan who’s lived with these temps as a part of my life for 37 years.

1) Don’t Get Cocky. People used to these temps may laugh at our southern neighbors freaking out about the cold because yes, some parts of the US get such temps regularly every year. These people are being ignorant assholes. Our houses are mandated to have insulation that few of your homes will have. We pretty much all have huge puffy coats, and have well established winter weather gear drives for homeless and poor folks every year. We have expensive, well equipped infrastructure for cope with these temps and with large amounts of snow. You don’t. When it comes down to it, Minnesotans know to respect the cold temps- it’s just that a lot of the ways that do it are so commonplace as to be invisible to those who already have these habits.

2) Don’t go out wet. Dry your hair or stay inside. You will loose a lot of heat if you’re wet. Same for sweat, and wet diapers. And clothes with snow on them are now WET CLOTHES. Change into dry clothes as soon as possible.

3) If you have a shitty car battery or a car that sometimes struggles to start, then try not to use it. You’re unlikely to get the kind of temps where it’s impossible to start an engine (I’ve only experienced those temps a few times. Once my eyelashes froze shut and I almost froze to death in my own back yard. Don’t be like young me. Respect the cold.) If your car doesn’t start, you could be stranded somewhere, and realistically your area’s emergency services may be pretty overrun.

4) Very cold air doesn’t hold moisture well. Plan for extra hydration for people, pets, and plants. Even if your staying in- most home heaters pull cold air from outside, then dry it out even MORE in the process of heating it. Dehydration is a thing. Even if your home’s heater has a humidifier attached to it (if you’re not sure, then it probably doesn’t.) it’s a good idea to drink extra water. Right now I have a few pots of water just left out by heaters to evaporate as much as possible. My mom used to just heat huge camping pots on the stove all day in cold temps. Remember, dry nasal passages really muck up your bodies ability to fight airborne illness. This is not a great time for that.

5) Help out homeless folks in your area in any way you can. These temps can and do kill. And since we have more evictions than any society can conscionably defend this year, we have high numbers of homeless people. Which means area supports for unhoused folks are often underfunded and over-taxed.

6) Let your faucets drip. I know nobody likes to waste water but if your pipes freeze they will literally explode. Your home will flood. My mother’s kitchen got completely destroyed and it traumatized my childhood dog. Justa bit of moving warm water will safeguard you from that.

7) Do. Not. Burn. Propane. Indoors.

8) Plan for potential power outages. Ice on the lines can cause this and again, your infrastructure isn’t prepped for this. Unplug anything in your home you’re not using to do your part to help prevent rolling blackouts.

9) Driving on ice is a SKILL. Your roads may be filled with people who do not have that skill. Please please, stay off the roads if you can- even if you have this skill these roads will not be prepped and will, again, be full of people who don’t know how to do this because it just hasn’t come up that much in their life.

Stay safe and stay kind, folks!

#signal boost #cold weather #cold weather survival tips #don't be like me and sleep with your window cracked open when it's -14+ at night.#that's why I have a sinus issue right now

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captain039 · 3 years ago

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PART 6 Secrets of mutation

Logan(wolverine) x reader

Warnings: Age gap, student/teacher, AOB, trauma, swearing, sexual, intimate, a little forceful, heats, smut, unprotected sex, lil kinky, angst, jealousy

Xmen X new mutants

Previous chapter <-

When you awoke for the second time that day, you groaned and shuffled stomach demanding more food. You reached around and felt no Logan by you making you sigh. You sat up slowly, stretched and went to the bathroom.

You went to the toilet before going to the kitchen again, you rummaged through the cupboards and fridge before huffing, you wanted a big dinner meal. You sat by the table and leant against it sighing when you heard footsteps. You hoped they passed but you saw Jean stop in the entrance way. You tensed avoiding eye contact as she sat across from you.

“How are you feeling?” She asked.

“I’m ok?” You shrugged. Aching still and overly warm, what else did she expect?

“Good, after your heat is over we can five you some medicine if you wish” she said and you nodded.

“Are you mad at me?” You asked like a little kid.

“No, I’m not mad at you” she chuckled softly.

“I know Logan is, overly nice to you, I’m not um- I’m sure he’ll just go back to normal after everything is done” you nodded embarrassed.

“He’s just being… nice?” The hole you were digging got deeper and deeper as you spoke.

“Logan doesn’t do nice, if he’s doing something it’s for reason” you avoided her eyes as she spoke and nodded.

“Right” you mumbled.

“Protective then? This will go away after I’m done with my heat, he’ll call me kid and leave me with my friends” you tried convincing yourself more than her for some reason.

“Pressure maybe?” You questioned.

“I wasn’t pressured to do anything” you jumped at the sound of his voice. You looked to him, raised eyebrow and a white plastic bag in his hand. He sat by you taking out a takeaway meal and sliding it to you. You looked at it confused as he got his own out and handed you a fork also. You thanked him softly and opened the lid and began eating.

“I’ll leave you two to enjoy your meal” Jean said and walked off. Logan huffed beside you and you tensed slightly.

“Thanks for bringing me food” you whispered and he nodded not speaking. Did he hear the whole conversation? It was he just not in a talking mood.

You were getting fidgety under the silence, you had finished your meal and sat up to put it in the bin.

“Im gonna-“ you gestured out the door and nodded as you left quickly.

You rubbed your arms looking to the ground before you ran into someone.

You apologised before seeing the guy from the other day, the one you stabbed, lightly, with your claws.

“Cat girl” he said a grin on his face. You took a step back slightly.

“You’ve got sharp claws I’ll give you that” he was taunting you, stepping forward when you stepped back. You felt your claws come out and kept your hands hidden if he tried anything.

“At least you smell good too” his grin went almost evil and you striked. Something in your mind clicked, you snarled at him his stomach slashed open. You kicked him to the ground before someone grabbed you.

“Easy” you froze at the sound of Logan. Your mind coming back, you frowned seeing the kid on the floor holding his stomach.

“Jesus! You need to lock her! Crazy cat!” The boy yelled as you began to shake.

“What-“ you muttered as Jean and the Professor came.

“I didn’t mean too” you said as others came to help.

You bolted out the back door ignoring calls. You changed into your cat self and ran outside the house borders and into the woodland area.

You ran quickly, jumping over logs and rocks before finding a suitable cave to collapse in. You panted paws aching, muscles spasming as you caught your breath. You don’t know how long you ran, you couldn’t see or hear any form of school from here. You curled up in the corner knowing you’d be warmer with fur. You let your tail rest over your eyes as you tried to cry somehow.

Morning came, sun shining brightly into your eyes, you must’ve changed in the night, shivering and naked in a cold cave.

You sighed sitting up as you rubbed your arms and hugged your knees. You had a layer of cold sweat covering your body, your heat peeking up again. You cursed at the cramps and aches in your body and leant against the cold rock.

The sun had warmed you up eventually, you had sore eyes from crying and sticky face. Sighing you didn’t bother moving, didn’t want to move, you wondered how long it would take for you to die out here.

You frowned though hearing footsteps, you listened in, it was only one person, familiar rhythm and heaviness.

Looking around you saw his figure, should’ve figured he’d follow, but you thought he wouldn’t. As he came closer he spotted you, in the corner of the cave shivering. He came closer, you saw clothes and blankets in his hand. He handed you the clothes without any words and you shuffled awkwardly to put them on. Leaning back against the rock you sighed as he laid a blanket over you and sat by you.

You stared outside, wondering what snapped inside you.

“I didn’t mean to hurt him” you mumbled.

“I know” he sighed running a hand down his face.

“I wasn’t in control” you added.

“I know” he huffed and you frowned.

“What do you mean you know?” You questioned.

“I mean-“ he sighed.

“The Professor said there’s something still inside you and your friends, some sort of injection that controls your mutant side when your emotions are high” you froze at his words and wondered why the Professor never told you this.

“The Professor thought it would go away, seems it didn’t, somewhere they’re finding a way to control your mind and we can’t find out why” you stared at the ground processing his words.

“With your current state and that dick head pushing, they took over from you” you didn’t know what to think, how the hell could they do that?

“Charles thinks it’s another mutant doing it, but we don’t know” you only nodded turning your head away from him as you tried to process it again. Someone was in your head, controlling you? Is that why you lashed out the very first time? Was the overdose so you didn’t know someone was in your head. You shuddered a bit holding the blanket closer.

“Is there like, a cage or something you can put me in?” You mumbled and he raised an eyebrow.

“Why do you need a cage?” He questioned.

“So I don’t lash out again and loose control” you said biting your cheek.

“You don’t need a cage” he sighed.

“Well something then? A secret room? something I can’t get out of” you felt your heart quicken and tried to calm down invade ‘they’ took over.

“You stay with me” he said finally.

“With you? What if I scratch you to shreds?!” You snapped glaring at him.

“You can’t” he scoffed a little smiling.

“It’s not funny Logan, this is serious, there’s someone in my head controlling me!” You looked away and stared at the ground again.

“I wasn’t laughing at the situation” he said firmly.

“Calm down” you frowned looking to him at the change of his voice, an alpha tone. You took deep breaths and looked away again sighing.

“Fuck!” You yelled hands fisted. Logan was giving you a firm look as he pulled you into his lap.

“I said clam down” he whispered and you felt shivers again. You leant against his chest listening to his heartbeat and sighed. Your heat must be ending thankfully, having him hold you was enough to dull the aches. You stayed like that for a while, you tucked under his chin with the blanket around your body, his hand gently rubbing up and down your back.

“Logan” you called softly and he hummed.

“What is this?” His hand stopped at your question and sighed quietly. You sat up, resting against his thighs as you looked to him.

“Everyone I’ve loved ends up hurt or dead” he sighed and you frowned.

“I’m a soldier born and made to kill and protect, not love” he mumbled and you felt your heart break. Your shoulders sagged a little.

“Just protective” you whispered getting off his lap.

“We should go back” you said standing up as you began to walk away.

“Y/n” he sighed following you silently.

Next Chapter ->

#x reader #marvel #fanfic #aob #hugh jackman x reader #xmen #logan x reader #wolverine x reader #the new mutants

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foli-vora · 4 years ago

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praise you

A/N: Kicking my fic blog off with my husband, my baby, my sweet boy, Francisco Morales. I would die/kill for that man, no questions asked. I’ve been so scared to do this and share my writing but I feel good today so I’m doing this before I change my mind! I hope you enjoy, and I have so much more to come!

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/f!reader

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: swearing and some (lots) kisses, super brief mention of love making but nothing descriptive (I’m new to warnings so please let me know if I ever miss anything and I’ll add it asap!)

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It wasn’t meant to just come out like it did.

There was a plan. A whole plan that had been running through his mind for the last couple months. He had thought through every little detail, obsessed over every second that would count down to it. It should be perfect. It would be perfect, because you didn’t deserve anything less. But here he was, with his big fucking mouth, ruining everything.

He tries to swallow down the small flicker of panic, the steady rise of self-loathing. Maybe it could be remedied? Maybe if he just started laughing, you would think it was a joke and let it go.

But he couldn’t bring himself to laugh, couldn’t even force out a chuckle. His mouth was dry and he couldn’t bring himself to look away from your wide eyes. They were shining in the morning sunlight drifting in through the window, your skin glowing in the soft warm rays. Beautiful.

Fuck it.

He had come this far, might as well go all out. His legs wobble slightly as he slowly falls to a single knee, right in the middle of the kitchen.

The ring! Shit.

He sees it in his mind, remembers burying it in a hurry when he heard your soft footfalls on the stairs and your sweet voice calling out to him. You had almost caught him. Almost. He had only just slammed the drawer shut when you had reached the doorway to your shared bedroom, the soft smile curling your lips enough to make him fall in love with you all over again. You had reached out for him, humming softly in pure contentment as he took you into his arms and swayed you slightly. It had been a rough day at work, which had quickly melted away the second he ordered a pizza and chucked Netflix on, satisfied to just snuggle on the couch under a blanket.

Frankie… your sweet voice is calling to him, curious and questioning, and he inhales sharply, thoughts whirling into a hazy blur as he thinks he’ll never believe he deserves the amount of love you pour into his name alone.

The pure concept of you loving him and him alone is enough to bring tears to his eyes. He feels it. Every time you hold him, kiss him, make love to him… he drowns in it. Revels in it. Your pure, unadulterated adoration for him never fails to take his breath away, and he hopes you feel his devotion to you just as strongly.

Surely you could feel it. Surely you could feel it in the way he lingers close after kissing you, softly nuzzling his nose against yours as your gazes stayed locked in a soft battle of appreciation for the other. Or in the way he would dance his fingers across your skin in pure wonderment, tracing every blemish, scar and stretchmark with a tenderness only you could bring out in him. Surely you could feel how hard and fast you make his heart beat when you two slow down in between flurries of harsh kisses and greedy hands, when you both just stopped to just… to just be.

Words. He needs words.

He had a speech and everything. He had kept a small notebook in his jeans for weeks, pulling it out and adding and tweaking words whenever he would find a moment to himself throughout the day at work. He had read over it a thousand times, could see each word scrawled over the lined pages flash in his mind, but why couldn’t he get the words out of his mouth?

“You –” he stops, almost as if trying to catch his breath. You wait, patient as ever. Always so patient, always so completely and utterly devoted to him. “You are everything to me.” He whispers, and his teeth mash together as he tries to control the lump quickly building in his throat. Your lips twitch into a small, shy smile as your eyes briefly fall to the floor before flicking back up and focusing on him. He draws in a slow breath to steady his suddenly shaking hands.

“I don’t know how hard you hit your head to want to stick around with me this long, but I thank whoever’s out there every day that you do, and I… I hope with everything I have that you’ll want to stay.” His voice wavers with the tears quickly building in his eyes but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when you’re looking at him like that… like he had personally hung each and every star in the night sky you admired every night.

“Always,” you whisper to him, smile widening as he grins up at you.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I… I can’t imagine a life, my life, without you in it. I don’t know how you do it, but you just… you just make my world so much brighter, make everything so much better, and I want to spend every day for the rest of my life showing you how much you mean to me. So, will… will you marry me?”

You sniffle as you fall to the floor in front of him, cradling his tear-streaked face softly between your hands. Francisco… your voice is gentle as it coos to him, thumbs tracing his cheeks. He’s putty in your hands. He knows it. The guys know it. He wants the world to know it. You shuffle closer, placing soft kiss after kiss along his forehead, nose, chin, wherever you could reach.

“Of course, I will.”

He damn near implodes when you answer. If all the pain he had endured during his life had led up to this moment, he would happily live it over and over. His hand moves to cup the back of your neck, quickly pulling you in to press his lips against yours in desperation. You melt into it instantly, matching his fervent pace and then some as you wind a hand in his ruffled curls. I love you. The words fall effortlessly from his mouth again and again and it isn’t long before you’re giggling into his lips, returning the sentiment easily as your arms wind around him tightly.

“This wasn’t how I planned this,” he admits quietly, thinking of the breakfast mess crowding the counter tops, the unkept bed hair falling into his eyes and the old tattered flannelette pyjama pants hanging from his hips. You pull back, face near split from how wide you’re smiling.

“It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

His cheeks warm before a thought suddenly slams into him like a freight train.

“Shit. Shit! Stay right here.” He’s up and out of the room before you can blink, leaving you abandoned on your knees on the cool tile floor in the middle of the kitchen. You call after him, ears straining as you listen to the muted thuds from the floor above you before heavy steps are rushing down the stairs.

He’s flustered when he returns, hands fumbling with something as he drops back in front of you, breathless and giddy as he presents you with a shiny band embedded into a smooth velvet cushion, the beautifully set stones shining in the morning light. His fingers gently pinch it from padding before he’s tossing the dark hinged box over his shoulder without a care as it clatters noisily to the ground somewhere behind him. He beams at your giggle, grinning as he reaches for your hand and slips the ring carefully onto your finger.

“Perfect fit…” he whispers, “… just like us.”

“Ugh, cheeseball.” You groan quietly with a languid smile, nuzzling into the soft kisses he was pressing to your cheeks.

“What are you talking about – you love it.” He grins, watery eyed and flushed, cheeks darkening a little more when you brush his hair back and stroke his cheeks. He brings your hand to his mouth, lips pressing sweetly against the cool band wrapped around your digit before moving to kiss along your knuckles. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too, fiancé.”

He blinks in surprise before grinning, leaning forward to kiss you deeply. “Call me that again.”

“Fiancé,” you murmur, a wave of warmth rushing over you as he groans softly against your lips. He nips at your bottom lip, grinning when you whine quietly. His voice is a deep rasp when he speaks against your skin, kissing further along your jaw and up to your ear. Again. You laugh quietly, “Francisco?”

He hums in question, too busy to answer properly as he kisses and nips the sensitive skin on your throat.

“I think the food’s burning.”

“Shit.”

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x f!reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales #francisco morales #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #triple frontier

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justanobsessedfangirl · 4 years ago

Text

The Sacrifice Part 2 - The Maze Runner Minho Imagine

Request from @elizabeth-brown: hey when your requests will be open can you do 'the maze runner' one with minho. where one day when new greenie was coming up he had letter with him. on it there was written that if they sacrificed y/n they would let everyone out. so keepers decided to vote. most of them voted 'yes' so without any emotions Alby kick y/n into the maze. then minho realized his feelings. y/n survived the maze and WCKED took her. after one year she escaped WCKED and ran into the scorch. Minho missed her miserably. y/n searched the safe heaven. and when Group A searched safe heaven they saw y/n and she was so mad. you can end it however you want either she forgives them or not. and please tag me

Masterlist

Part 1

Author’s Note: Thank you guys so much for the kind words! I really appreciate all of it! :)

Word Count: 3.8k

The sun was rising. You stared up at it as you walked, your cracked lips parted, mouth dry beyond belief. The cloth you’d wrapped around your head was already growing warm. Beneath your long-sleeved shirt and jeans, your body was scarred with sunburns. Your backpack hung heavy on your shoulders and scraped against your back painfully. Still, you kept walking through the sand.

Crumbling buildings lined the barren street. At the end, next to an intersection, you saw one that still had an intact roof. You willed yourself to move faster, but your steps continued in the same plodding manner as before. The sun beat down heavier.

A dry wind whispered past, bringing swirls of sand to flight. They looked beautiful in the golden rays of the morning but cut like glass as they whipped past your cheeks. With a grimace, you reached a weathered hand up and pulled some loose cloth farther over your face, squinting your eyes for protection. The sound of your heavy breathing filled your ears.

How familiar that was. How familiar exertion was. Before you could stop yourself from thinking, from remembering, you saw his face. He was by your side, smiling, goading you to run faster. He was betting you that he could reach the doors first.

“If I win, you owe me half your dinner,” came his playful tease, so vividly that you almost thought it was real. If you let your gaze wander, you could barely make out a mirage of him jogging ahead of you.

What was it you’d said, back in that other life, where you ran the Maze and lived in the Glade and weren’t as alone? You smacked your lips together now, looking for any moisture, and croaked, in a hoarse voice, “What do I get if I win?” The effort made you cough. Stopping in your tracks, you doubled over hacking. You expected to see the worn stone of the Maze beneath your feet, but there was only sand. Knives scraped your throat. You tasted blood.

“You can have anything you want,” Minho responded. You lifted your head, hoping for a glimpse of his face and seeing only sand.

Tears filled your eyes. You wanted Minho with you, right now. You wanted to not be alone. You wanted to not be here, to not have made any of these choices, to not have to keep going and keep trying and keep surviving all because of one promise. You wanted to reach the doors -- no, not the Maze doors, never the Maze doors again, the doors to a crumbling building in a crumbling town in the sun-baked, sand-ridden, abandoned Scorch.

Straightening up, you started for the building again. You reached it in a few long, purposeful strides. The door hung half off its hinges. You slipped inside, shutting it as best you could behind you, hoping that would keep at least some sand out. The inside was blessedly dark. The front room seemed kind of like a cafeteria, with a few tables and chairs and a long counter at the back. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you remembered the last cafeteria you’d been in. You wanted to spit on this place as payback.

Instead, you walked behind the counter, sunk to your knees, shrugged off your backpack, and curled into a ball. Your head pounded. You squeezed your eyes closed, pressed your palms to your temples, tried to hold back any more tears. The memory of Minho floated to the front of your mind again.

“No need to cry,” you could hear him saying. You could almost feel him tuck a finger under your chin, like he’d done before, and raise your head. “I’m still here.” And then you opened your eyes, hoping to see that cocky grin that would make the whole world would seem a little better.

But Minho wasn’t there. You weren’t in the Glade anymore. You weren’t even with WICKED anymore. You were somewhere in the middle of the Scorch, alone and trying to survive and failing.

With trembling fingers, you unzipped your backpack and pulled out your last bottle of water. It was half-empty. You stared at it numbly. How far could half a bottle of water take you? When you used to run the Maze, a lifetime ago, you never went in without at least one canteen full. Minho had teased you during your first run for taking three. You wondered what he would say now.

“We’ll figure it out together. We’ll get out together.” That’s what he would say. That’s what he had said, right before you went into the Maze for the last time.

I tried, Minho. You wanted to scream it out to the Scorch, let every damn Crank within a hundred miles of you hear it. Maybe Minho would hear it too, back at the WICKED compound, back in the Glade. He said he would find you. You’d repeated his words so many times in your head that they were practically imprinted in your brain. They were like a touchstone, something you remembered for luck and courage.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he’d said.

You’d never said it back. You wished you’d said it back.

You forced yourself to stop remembering and took a sip of water. It was like ice filtering through magma cracks, soothing, soothing, soothing, and then gone, evaporating and leaving behind seething bubbles of lava. You wanted more. You wanted so much more for yourself.

You twisted the cap back on and shoved your water into your bag before you did something you’d regret. Leaning against the counter, you let your eyes close. Fatigue made your limbs heavy, and the warm air settled over you like a blanket. You hoped the sun would be gone when you woke up. Then you would walk, as you had for countless nights, with no real directions in mind, only the understanding that you needed to keep moving or else you would die. Somewhere out there, there was a safe haven.

But in your dreams, there was darkness, and in the darkness, there were Grievers. The Maze walls, dripping with ivy, closed in around you as you ran. Your breaths came short and fast, more from fear than effort. You had no bag, no weapons, just the shoes on your feet and a little bit of hope in your chest. But the Grievers were closing in.

Mechanical limbs whirred, slamming against the Maze floor so forcefully the ground seemed to shake. You whipped your head around, caught a glimpse of them, turned back and ran faster, looked again and saw them even closer. Metal clanged together, the sound of razor-sharp fangs gnashing, slick with slime. A rush of wind sliced past your arm. You tried to move faster, just a little faster, just enough to keep narrowly avoiding the Griever’s claws, just enough, please, just enough to make it to sunrise--

A wave of fire burned a line across your back. The pain was white-hot, so bad you couldn’t keep your eyes open, you were stumbling and faltering and barely moving and the Griever was going to get you, only with your next step you felt nothing but open space and then you were falling and falling and falling.

You hit the ground so hard the air went out of you, and only then did you realize you’d been screaming. A moment of shock passed. Then you shrieked again. Your back burned with pain, but it wasn’t fire, not like you’d thought at first, it was a cut, huge and sprawling and parting the flesh of your back. Blood drenched your shirt. You screamed, blind with pain and fear, waiting for the Griever to finish you off or sting you and send you into a spiral of even greater misery.

Something grabbed your arms, hoisted you up, strapped you down. The Grievers have me, they’ve got me, they’re going to kill me, you thought, even as you felt human hands and heard human voices and saw human faces.

“No!” You caught a glimpse of one of them holding a syringe, a Griever in disguise. Twisting away, trying to avoid it, you let out a scream so loud you thought your vocal cords would be torn to shreds, just like your back, just like the ravaged mess that was left of your back. The needle pierced your skin.

Immediately, your yells dropped off. The people or the Grievers or the Grievers masquerading as people laid you face down on a stretcher. You couldn’t move your neck, or your arms, or your feet, but every step they took as they carried you sent bolts of lightning through your body. Your face was wet with tears, with blood. The jostling stopped. Every nerve in your body rebelled in pain, and then there was a cold hand on your cheek, forcing your chin up. Grinning down at you was the face of the devil.

You woke now with a start, a cool sheen of sweat coating your body, phantom pains chilling your back. Your heart thundered wildly. Acting on pure instinct, you shot to your feet, looking frantically around the room. She would be there, you were sure of it. The devil, with her blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun, her lips painted red with the blood of her victims.

But the room was dark and empty and you were alone.

You untensed with a long, slow exhalation. Tiny daggers still ran up and down your spine, dancing along the scars the WICKED doctors had said they couldn’t fix.

“An unfortunate variable,” the devil had said about the Grievers, “but necessary.”

Necessary.

You spat on the floor, wishing it was her pristine white cafeteria, half-hoping you’d look up and see her standing there so you could strangle her. But that thought was fleeting and your head shot back up in fear, scanning the room again and again to reassure yourself that Dr. Paige was nowhere to be seen.

When you were sure there was no one lurking in the night-shadowed corners, you hefted your backpack onto your shoulders and made for the door. Outside, the desert air was chill and dry. The occasional wind stirred the sand as you walked, footsteps making quiet whispers along the dusty sidewalk. Moonlight paved the way forward.

Goosebumps covered your arms as you replayed your dream, your memories, over again. Yes, the Grievers had gotten you, but not the ones in the Maze. It was the hidden Grievers, the ones who said they were good, and that they were going to save the world, and that you were helping.

“Thank you for participating, Y/N,” Dr. Paige had said. “I’m sure it wasn’t a pleasant experience. The data we gathered on the group’s response to a requested sacrifice will prove very useful, I assure you.” And she’d smiled at you. She’d actually smiled, pointy, predatory canines on full display behind her parted red lips. “The data from your response will also be very beneficial. Thank you once more for your participation.”

You were too shocked. You were in too much pain. The synapses in your brain weren’t firing correctly, still stuck trying to piece together that the sacrifice was some kind of test. An unfortunate variable. “What...what happens next?”

Dr. Paige had already left. Someone lower in the chain of command gave you a nonanswer about your role in Phase One being complete.

“But what happens in Phase Two?”

There was no answer to that question, no matter how many times you asked. You asked when you were stable enough to be moved to your own room, when you were compliant enough to walk the halls of the facility with a chaperone, when you were obedient enough to eat in the cafeteria among the staff members.

“WICKED is good,” they’d say. And then they would smile at you.

You shuffled through the sand. Reaching a hand, which you pretended wasn’t trembling, into the side pocket of your bag, you pulled out a meal replacement pouch with WICKED emblazoned on its side. Even as you ate, you worried. The dream loomed over you like a heavy cloud, and your food supply was dwindling. You wished for a sip of water, just a taste, a small trickle to wet your lips, something to help the powdery bar go down.

You wished you’d started hoarding food at WICKED earlier. It was only when you noticed that change was coming, that the air was electric and the people were alive, that you started to slip items from the cafeteria into your bag. The doctors had stopped ordering you in for blood tests and scans, which they had pretended were for your back, and then they stopped sending you a chaperone. It was almost like freedom.

“Code Green. I repeat, Code Green. All personnel begin preparations for Phase Two. I repeat…” The message came over the speakers while you were in your room, a barebones cell with a cot and a desk. In a flash, you were on your feet, pouncing on the opportunity. You slung your WICKED bag over your shoulders, ignoring the discomfort as it pressed into your bandaged back. Peering through the crack in your door, you couldn’t see anyone in the hall. The lights were flashing in time with the announcement, strobes of green slicing across the walls. Holding your breath in anticipation, you tried the door handle. Unlocked.

Heart fluttering, you pulled it open a crack and slipped through, shutting it gently behind you. No chaperone sitting outside. No guards patrolling. No people at all. You bolted down the hall.

Thinking about it now, as you finished your second to last meal replacement, the perishable food long since gone, you wondered why it was so easy.

Phase One. Phase Two. Thank you for your participation. An unfortunate variable. Unfortunate unfortunate unfortunate thank you for participating thank you for the data thank you for trying thank you for dying. Phase Two, I should have raided the cafeteria will you be in the cafeteria, Minho are you in the kitchen? Where are you where am I why is this happening what is--

Welcome to Phase Two.

You crumpled the meal replacement package in your hand and threw it into the air, letting it fly with the wind.

Minho’s voice was in your head. “I’ll raid the kitchen, the Med-jack Hut, bring us weapons.”

You shook your head and it faded. “I would have done it if you were there,” you said. Your voice was a croak. You cleared your throat and tried, “I would have…” The words floated away. I would have tried harder to survive.

“I tried so hard, Minho.” You thought of your bottle of water, only a few sips left. “I tried to wait for you in the Maze, but WICKED took me.” Grievers and white-clothed doctors and searing pain. “I tried to wait for you at WICKED, but...I think they let me escape.” An unlocked door, no patrolling guards. The vast expanse of the Scorch beyond, and a snippet of an overheard conversation about a safe haven at the end. “I tried to reach the end. But I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” Sand. So much sand. Lightning storms and a burning, vengeful sun, and a throat so dry it hurt. “I can’t do this anymore.”

And still, you walked. Because there was nothing else to do. Because you were a Runner and Runners never stopped. Because you thought this might be another test, another phase, and you wanted to reach the end. Because the mirage of Minho was nearby, talking.

“We’re almost there,” he said. You rubbed your sand-crusted eyes and tried to find him. “We have to keep going.”

Other voices chimed in, pitched low and hard to hear. You hoped you could hallucinate Newt, too, and maybe Zart and Frypan, who had tried to help, had tried, just like you tried. You moved faster, feet cleaving through drifts of sand.

“There it is!”

You missed the sound of an excited Minho. You remembered the first time he’d had a little too much to drink at a bonfire, and he’d picked you up and twirled you around. You’d never smiled so much.

The memory used to be good, then it turned painful, and now you were just numb.

You kept walking. Around you, the city was fading into sand. Ahead stood a tall dune. You wanted to stop and stare and convince yourself to turn around. But you kept walking. Behind the dune, you’d see Minho and Newt and Zart and Frypan and maybe even Alby, and maybe you would forgive Alby, or maybe not, but you would still see him because everyone would be there.

You boot punched a hole into the sand dune, sending streams of gritty yellow dust cascading down the slope. Stepping forward again, you sunk into sand up to your mid-calf. Again and again, and then you stumbled and fell in up to your elbows, and still, you crawled.

“We can do this,” Minho said, from somewhere above or behind or by your side. He was climbing with you, barely out of sight. His playful grin was audible.

“Bet I can beat you to the top,” you said before he could.

“What do I get if I win?” he asked.

You smiled and there were tears in your eyes and sand on your cheeks. “You can have anything you want.” And you climbed higher.

“I want you to say it back. Please say it back, Y/N. Please.” His voice was fading. You were leaving him behind as you neared the top.

Sand burrowed into the lines of your face, past the seams of your clothes, finding every nook and cranny of your body to hide in. It was in your mouth, your ears, your eyes. You struggled to breathe. Your head felt as light as a cloud. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you finally promised as you reached the empty crest. Still on hands and knees, you peered over the other side of the dune. The slope was empty. Everything was empty.

You rolled onto your back, eyes shut against the fading night sky. Your arm bumped against something stiff. Reaching a hand out blindly, groping for it, you came back with a stick. You looked at it through squinted eyes. Atop the stick was a flag, and on the flag in big, thick letters, the same font WICKED used for everything, were the words, “Safe Haven.”

You laughed. The bitter chuckle was alone in the Scorch. Overhead, the sky was lightening, and soon you would be alone in the daylight of the Scorch, alone in the Safe Haven.

Shrugging your backpack off, you reached inside for your water and the last of your food. The bottle was empty. You didn’t remember finishing it, but you figured you must have. You chucked it to the side, listening as it rolled down the sand dune. You wouldn’t need that anymore. The air grew warmer as dawn approached and you opened your last meal replacement. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you could hear voices. You wondered if you were going crazy, decided you didn’t care because you had tried Minho I really tried I’m sorry please promise me I’ll see you tomorrow please don’t let it end like this please.

You took a bite of the crumbling meal replacement bar and immediately spit it back out. It had soaked up the last bit of moisture in your mouth. You tossed the package to the side, where you’d abandoned your water and your will.

The sky grew pink and orange and yellow, and, finally, there was the sun, high in the sky, and you had no idea how much time had passed while you stared, and you didn’t care. There was no further destination in mind. This was it. And with the sun up there and you down here, you hoped that maybe this wouldn’t count as dying alone.

“There it is!” Minho again. Funny how he kept saying that. And then the voices of the other Gladers chimed in again. You wondered if you would keep replaying that moment until you finally passed. You wondered how it would feel. You wondered if there was water on the other side.

The sand rushed down the sides of the dune in waterfalls. You could hear it, even if you didn’t have the energy to look. It sounded like a whisper. Beneath the whisper was the panting of a group of people.

Runners, you thought. All of the Runners before and all of the Runners after, coming to take me away. Would Minho be among them? Was he dead, like you and like those sad souls who’d been killed by the Grievers (An unfortunate variable, but necessary) and all of the people who’d gotten the Flare, which you barely understood because no one had answered any of your questions?

Why is this happening and where am I going and what do I do and how did I get here and when can I go home, please bring me home, I want to go home and I want to see Minho one last time because I never promised him back and I should have.

“Y/N?”

Minho. You didn’t have the energy to speak or even open your eyes to see the hallucination.

“Y/N!” Feet pounding against sand, then hands on your arms, looping around your back, pulling you close and shielding you from the sun. “Wake up, Y/N. Clint!”

No, Clint wasn’t supposed to be here. Clint had voted for you to be sent into the Maze. You were pretty sure you used to hate him for that, but hate took so much energy, and you just wanted to pretend Minho was holding you until you didn’t have to think anymore.

The people nearby talked unintelligibly, oscillating between murmurs and gleeful shouts. There was cotton in your ears and a blindfold over your eyes and strong hands on your back, propping you up. Then there was a splash of water on your face and the world opened up again.

There was Minho. Better than in your memories, because he was here, in full color, so perfect you needed to squint. He was on his knees and holding you. Above, Clint was pouring water over your head. All around you were Gladers.

“Minho?” you croaked, although there was no question who it was. Dark brown eyes, now filled with tears. Full lips curved up in a smile. Scatters of freckles across his cheeks. Minho.

Minho nodded and pulled you into a hug. “I thought…” he trailed off. Then he laughed, a sound so bright and so happy that the water on your skin felt a touch cooler, the sun on your shoulders a shade dimmer. “I should’ve known you’d survive.”

“There’s no safe haven,” you said, the words bitter on your tongue.

Minho shook his head, still buried in your neck. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Smiling, you pressed a hand to his cheek, coaxing him to look at you. When he did, you leaned in and finally felt at home.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note: I wanted to put a longer, more serious note at the end instead of the beginning so I wouldn't deter any newcomers from reading. I just wanted to say thanks to everyone for letting me try out this style! I'm not very happy with how this turned out but it was good practice. Hopefully, I can use this experience and write better pieces in the future. Thanks again for letting me experiment and for the encouragement. And my requests are always open :)

Tag List: @officialfictionalwreck @elizabeth-brown @newtsgirl-hehe @jjjmaybank @adoregin

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akvtsuki-ari · 5 years ago

Text

Around Your Neck

Warning: smut, unprotected sex/creampie, post!prison reid, fingering, oral both recieving, throatfucking, slapping, bruises idk??

Length: 4.8k

Authors note: you know that tiktok audio that goes “whats wrong with you?,” over and over again. thats how writing this fic made me feel. based loosely after a conversation me and my wife @pastanest had sdkjhjkef and that gifset of spencer with that gold chain on that has me so tight. so disrespectful...

Edit: heres the gifset!!!

Plot Summary: Prison changed Spencer. That damn chain around his neck made sure you remembered.

Spencer Reid was… different after prison. It was something about him when he left, like a part of him was always far away somewhere when you spoke to him. He was fractured it seemed like - even though he was saving lives everyday there always seemed to be something on his mind. He was still Spencer of course, still sweet-talking and soothing when he needed to be. He never lost that odd charm about him and after those first few months he grew back to be more comfortable in his own skin but there was just something there. Something on the back of his mind that he seemed to be handling alone.

You’d been with Spencer for a while before he went to jail, a few years and other traumatic events later - you had an idea of how Spencer dealt with pain and difficulty. He liked to let things sit and stir inside of him for a long time before he lets it show - then he gets snappy and mean for a bit after that till he sorta just breaks. In many ways, when something bad happened to Spencer you sorta just knew what things would be like for a bit, but no matter how many times he slipped you caught him. When he got shot and nearly died twice, you were there right next to him - making sure that he was going to be okay. That's just what you did, to say you were Spencers ride-or-die would be an understatement. You gave him whatever he needed, whether that be some tough love or being pampered for a few days straight.

Spencer knew that about you, and even before prison he had this affinity for you that always made sure you knew how much he adored you. He wanted you to know that he only ever had eyes for you and that he was beyond grateful for how patient you seemed and how loving you were to him. Spencer made sure he never stopped chasing you before he went to prsion. He bought you flowers, supported you when you switched careers, and generally made sure he returned the favor in loving you but he was always chasing you still. Part of it was out of disbelief that someone could love him like that, but the other part was out of insecurity. You always told him you were always his, but he never seemed to believe you.

Prison changed a lot of things for Spencer, but that thing about him chasing you was what changed most. Spencer was always possessive in his own right, but he wasn’t jealous necessarily. He just wanted to make sure you were okay and that no one was fucking with you or bothering you. It didn’t bother him before if you talked and flirted with Luke, or if some guy was hitting on you because you were normally so adamantly rejecting it. He wasn’t someone who was particularly upset about not having claimed you as his - before he didn’t really care.

For the longest time you didn’t really notice just how much Spencer had actually changed how he acted towards you - mostly because he was still really sweet to you. It wasn’t like he was treating you any worse, or necessarily any better. It was honest to God, just different, more.. something. You don’t wanna use the word aggressive because Spencer isn’t the aggressive type. Spencer was calculated, and he could be angry sometimes but not often. He didn’t have a shorter fuse - hell, you could argue that prison made him more patient since he was often just lying in wait.

The best way to describe it is probably just more confident, really. He was assertive about you being his and his tolerance for crude jokes that came your way was a lot lower. Most of the time, at least before, he’d let shit slide if it was too small. Nowadays though, if he even catches something bothering you he steps in - always finding the small of your back and pulling you closer to him like he was keeping you close to protect you. He doesn’t curse them out or get angry, just stares at them with a blank expression that's arguably more intimidating.

You were a flirt by nature, too. You were never trying to flirt with people, but you’re one for flattery and compliments so it sure can be read that way. You loved receiving the same energy so when you did your jokes and compliments would increase ten-fold. It doesn’t bother Spencer because he knows you’re just being silly but before, he didn’t mind if the other person was serious because he knew that you’d never continue like that. Now though, when someones dropping any lines your way he’ll tell them to leave you alone no question, unconcerned about any consequence or even if that person could beat Spencer's ass. Spencer wasn’t concerned about strength like he used to be - and when you asked him about why that was he simply shrugs.

“I’ll play dirty if it gets there,”

Those were all small details but there were so many of them that it was starting to pile up and draw you to interesting conclusions. Sex was also a clear example of change. The first time the two of you had sex when he came back from prison was relatively the same, but you could tell he was holding something back. For the longest time, you didn’t really know what until it was the heat of the moment and Spencer wrapped his hands around your throat and ask if he could choke you - something that you’d ask for previously that he was rather unsure about doing. It was the way Spencer's eyes looked into your eyes when he did it, the way his fingers curled almost carelessly around your delicate neck - so instinctively as if the whole endeavor was so natural. When he lets you go and kisses you - you’re more than into it but you can’t help but wonder where his desire came from. You didn’t really mind how Spencer got when he was like that but damn, you couldn’t say you saw it coming.

The more you thought about it, the more it became clear to you that Spencer has changed a whole lot more than you understood initially, but maybe the last straw was when you made a sorta silly joke about the necklace worn around his neck after prison. It was a thin gold chain, for the most part tucked underneath his clothes when he went to work. He said in many cultures gold is a symbol for blessing and spirituality and he wanted to keep that with him, and that a lot of other people in prison wore gold chains. You made some stupid joke that if he were gonna wear it all the time - he should at least have your name around his neck. You knew stuff like that wasn’t really Spencer thing so when you’d said it, even though it was pretty hot, you were mostly just joking.

It’d been a few weeks since then. Spencer had a case that needed his attention and you were at the bullpen with Penelope waiting for everyone's arrival. You were nearly bursting from anticipation, a busy case that made you particularly clingy and had you missing Spencer more than you can explain. There everyone was, walking through the doors when Spencer walks through and wraps you up in his arms. Spencer picks you up and spins you around for a few seconds before giving you a small smile. You just hug him again, noticing the cool metal on your skin when you do. You pull back before Spencer speaks and look down - his chains never had a pendant before

There it was. Your name, hangin around his neck like it was nothing. Spencer was sporting it with a more casual version of what he normally wears, which was basically just no tie. A white shirt and blazer, and your name around his neck. You try your very best to ignore the heartbeat in your jeans while your fingers went up carefully to touch it. Spencer gives a coy smile, watching the way your eyes look at it so hazy. Just like he wanted. He places his hand on top of yours, seeing your pretty eyes flick up to meet his. You can barely contain yourself - the chain around his neck always brought you to some interesting places but to see your name - your fucking name, around his neck so casually brought you somewhere rather interesting.

“Um - nice necklace,” you squeak out. Spencer laughs brightly, his arms circling around your waist as you bury your face in his chest instinctively . You can feel the way his laugh reverberates and you just whine in annoyance.

“I’m glad you liked it, might be a little awkward otherwise,” Spencer jokes. It was your turn to giggle, Spencer left terribly endeared by the sound.

“You ready to head home, doctor?,” you say softly. Spencer nods, taking your hand as you lead the way and feeling his heart burst out of his chest, grateful to have you on him always.

You guess that Spencer buying your name as a pendant on his chain was really what set you off in realizing just how possessive he was. He didn’t take it off around the house, walking around your shared apartment shirtless with it on at all times. He’d play with it constantly, fingers brushing the smooth metal while he was doing something a little mindless or that required his focused attention. It was driving you nuts, the image of Spencers chain hanging in your face was already one you returned to a lot but - now that your name was there it made the stakes of such a situation so much higher.

Spencers just sitting and reading the paper when you finally are fed up. He always liked reading the actual newspaper, claims there's nothing quite as good but you’re tired of… well, you’re not sure what you were tired of but you knew you needed his attention asap before you lost your marbles for good. You walk over to him, moving the newspaper carefully out of his hands and folding it before sitting across his lap and crossing your arms. Spencer laughs loudly, especially as you take his arms and wrap them around your waist. Spencer just gives you a quirked eyebrow, a questioning look. You shake your head, because you’re honestly kind of unsure for what you’re asking for - you just wanted something. Dick, maybe.

You give Spencer a look as you take his chain around your fingers again and play with it’s pendant. He already knows why you’re here, but he decides to let you figure it out. He knew before that you were the submissive type, but his response to that changed in prison. He carried that picture of you with him everyday, looked at it for hours sometimes so he could sleep - and it pissed him off when people would see it and talk about you. Spencer missed a lot of things outside of jail but you were number one - your love and affection of course, but there were other things too. Prison made Spencer particular about his possessions, that picture of you was one of the few things that was his and his alone. He didn’t let anyone go as far as touch that picture, so when he saw you again that possession just carried over. He didn’t really care, especially since it didn’t seem to bother you. Prison made Spencer realize how much he really cared for his possessions, books, chess boards, you - all things he already cared about but became a lot more particular after the fact.

Spencer just knows. When you sit on his lap, all he can picture is him out in the yard but instead of isolated and paranoid, he’s with you by his side giving him all the restraint in the world. He’d be damned if he let anyone take that from him. You give Spencer a look he can’t explain, there's a certain innocence written on your face that makes Spencer's chest hot. His hand sits between your bare thigh as you sit on his lap, and the second you look down on it, you seem to get the clue. Spencer grips your thigh, eyes following the way yours move to try and make sense of what's happening. Your eyes are fluttery, as your head twists to meet Spencers, the two of you nose to nose. Spencer just gives you a smile, before looking down at your lips then right back up to you. You blush.

“You’re close,” you say, not knowing what else to do. Spencer chuckles.

“Would you like me to move?,” Spencer asks politely. You shake your head.

“No,” you say stubbornly. Spencer licks his lips for a second before smiling again.

“Okay. Then, what would you like me to do?,” Spencer says, holding back a laugh. Your eyes fixate on his lips when he talks, and you scrunch your face up.

“Kiss me,” you mumble. Spencer grins ear to ear.

“Say please,” Spencer replies, leaning in as his lips brush onto yours. He pulls away before you can kiss and you sigh.

“Please,” you manage out meekly.

Spencer pushes air out of his nose before he does just that. His lips are smooth, stubble touching your smooth skin as your hand moves to one side of his face. Spencer smiles into the kiss, feeling the way you melt into him. The moments before things get heated is fast, Spencer's hands underneath your shirt as his tongue slides between your lips. He kisses you slowly, patiently but that’s not quite what you want. You give him a whine, but he shows the same attitude. You keep kissing like that for a while, moving yourself to straddling Spencer's lap before using your teeth to lightly tug on Spencer's bottom lip. He gives you a small groan and you return it with a noise of approval. Spencer pulls back to look at you, his eyes telling you to be careful but his body language betraying him. You can feel the tent in Spencer pants as you weigh yourself down on his lap.

“Don’t hold back,” you ask, hoping it’s the right thing. Spencer gives you a weary look.

“Are you sure?'' Spencer asks. You nod, eyes looking into his.

“Red for stop, yellow for slow down, and green for go,” you say repeating your safewords to him. Spencer gives you a kiss on the forehead, both for remembering your safeword but as an assurance. He’d never really been rough with you - he was a soft dom at heart and wouldn’t go as far as hurting you. You just give him a pleading look - you wanted him to be rough with you, bruise and mark you, just for a little while. The idea made your skin flush, but who was Spencer to deny you of such a request. Spencer nods softly, leading you to the bedroom.

Spencers the first to close the door, pushing you up against as he lifts one of your legs up and kisses you slowly - fingers pressing into your thighs as Spencers tongue toys with yours. He always kisses you like that, slowly but surely introducing as much of himself to you as possible - his erections pressed against you when he does. The sound that leaves your mouth is a cross between a whimper and a moan - a broken sound that makes Spencer a little more eager. He smiles when you make, giving you a look of surprise but you don’t have anything to say. Spencer smiles down at you.

“Go lay down for me,” Spencer requests. You just nod as you get comfortable on the bed - watching Spencer take off his grey sweatpants and boxers, the chain still around his neck. Your eyes follow his figure, landing on his erection before widening. Spencer just chuckles at you - signalling for you to take your shirt off which you do with no question. You watch his eyes as the rack themselves over your figure, panties forbidding the rest of you from being on display. Spencer walks towards the bed, pulling your legs over the edge as he kneels between them. You yelp at the sudden move, but quickly settle up again.

One thing is for certain, Spencer always wants to make you feel good first. It didn’t really matter what headspace he was in - whether or not he was super dominant like he was today or if he was super submissive like he was when he was stressed. His touch is careful, your legs over his shoulders pull him closer instinctively but he doesn’t seem to mind. He merely pushes your panties to the side before he eats you out, kissing your clit to be gentlemanly. His tongue is careful at first, experimental lickes before he lays his tongue flat - with a soft rhythm, slowly increasing his pace to your pleasure. He gets you close like that, pausing for a few seconds on moving before sucking softly on you, making you twitch your legs. Spencers careful about this part, his speed only testament to how much he can push you, the knot in your stomach carefully being undone as Spencer continues.

“Can I cum, please?,” your voice scrapes the surface as you ask. Spencer is busied with his mouth but he hums - feeling you unravel as your orgasm hits you with astonishing impact. Spencer feels the way you pulsate on his tongue, humming again so you feel that little vibration that sends your hands in Spencer's hair to pull you off. You’re trying to catch your breath as you finish, Spencer still adamantly eating you - making your body shiver with pleasure. He holds your hips down for a few minutes like that. You don’t really want to argue with him but you’re unsure how much you can handle as he makes you cum for the second time, a small wave of pleasure brushing against your spine as cum for the second time. When Spencer pulls away from you, orgasm covers his lips and manages to get onto his stubble. He gives you a light smile as he leans up to kiss you, hands holding your thighs as he does. You can taste yourself on his tongue.

“Do you think you can handle letting me fuck your throat?,Spencer asks. You give him a look of surprise, trying to remember if you still had any cough drops before nodding - more than eager to let him do that if that's what he wanted to do. You just nod, ready to get on your knees before Spencer stops you in your tracks.

“I wanted to do it while you were laying down, you know,” Spencer says, voice unsure. You’re surprised but you just shrug, laying down, your head back on the edge of the bed. It weird to see everything upside down like this, so you just shut your eyes and open your mouth up. Spencers cock twitches at the site of you laid back for him like this, pushing past your lips a lips a bit, feeling your tongue along his tip. You pat Spencers leg, letting him know you were comfortable to let him go further, feeling his length push past your throat. You let your throat relax, gripping your thumb as Spencer buries himself nearly fully in you. His fingers find the column of your neck, brushing the bulge in your throat which makes it hard for him to contain himself. Spencers fucks your throat slowly, carefully not to push you too hard even though you were more than ready for it. You steadied yourself, the other hand in your underwear rubbing your clit to the feeling Spencer fucking you like this.

“You’re so pretty with me down your throat like this,” Spencer comments. You moan around his length, letting him know he’s free to continue.

“Prison made me think of all the things I could be doing to you, fucking you like you were the only thing I thought about all day. Maybe because you were,” Spencer laughs when he speaks, his hands reaching down to toy with your nipples, his fingers carefully twisting them, relishing the way you writhe under his touch. You tighten your throat around Spencers length causing him to jerk into your throat - sorta how you planned for this to go anyway. Spencers expression changes as he watches you take all of him in, his hand lightly around your neck, maybe too turned on by how the air leaves your lungs. When you pull out, spit covers your face and chin - but you just give Spencer a thumbs up and a smile, not phased at all. Spencer didn’t think he could be anymore in love with a person, yet here he was.

Spencer helps you sit back up, sitting for a few moments to readjust to the world around you. Spencer cups your jaw, pulling your face to look at him - giving you the most adoring eyes like you didn’t just take his dick all the way down your throat, well that may be the reason why. Spencer leans down to kiss your forehead, hands around the base of your neck as he does.

“Good girl,” Spencers use of that phrase is spare, only using it when he really meant it. It fills you with a certain intensity you weren’t expecting, your throat already a little sore from the endeavor. You give Spencer a small hum of approval.

“Thank you, Sir,” The honorific makes Spencer's heart ache. Spencer was a soft dom, which mostly meant that in bed you called him by his name. Sir was a sometimes thing, like when he got rough on the occasion. Sir was earned, just liked good girl was.

“Get on your hands and knees for me, pretty girl,” Spencer asks. You do as you're told, arching your back completely for Spencer without questions. Spencer admires you, running your hands over the curves of your body, admiring the little wet spot that forms on your slit for him, cum running down your legs. Spencer wanted to fuck the shit out of you, wanted to see his cum spill out of you - as filthy as the thought was. You’d always talked about letting him go raw but Spencer was normally too cautious. You getting pregnant was much less of a consequence these days, like if anyone were to carry his baby into the world it’d be you and no one else.

If anyone got to fuck you like that, it needed to be him and no one else. That was one thing Spencer knew was so different. Spencer needed to fuck you like that, raw and shameless just like only he could. Spencers fingers are too curious for his own good, one hand around your waist to play with your clit, and the other posing two fingers inside of you - brushing up against your gspot with ease. You shudder under Spencers touch, getting fingered from the back like this wasn’t what you were expecting but you weren’t upset about it. Spencers voice is warm in your ear.

“You’re gonna have to cum one more time before I even think about fucking you,” Spencer warns. You just nod, chewing your lip as Spencer pads his fingers along you, curling them up for you to feel. He stretches you out comfortably like that, and you’re unable to really think clearly. His mouth works on your neck, biting hickies onto your throat as he does. The bruises are red and pulsating, the dark marks only bound to get darker and more visible as the days pass. Not that Spencer minded, though you did. It was a worry for later though, of course. You cum around Spencer's fingers again, unable to comprehend the level of exhaustion that seemed to come over. Still, you’d be damned if Spencer didn’t fuck you senseless. You tighten around Spencers fingers.

“Spencer, fuck - please, please,” the begging has no particulars. It’s never for anything, instead a mindless response to Spencer and his ability to turn you on this much, to the point it was all you thought about. You were exhausted but all you wanted was for him to cum inside you and make you feel so pliable. You always were, for him anyways.

“Sir - fuck me raw, please,” that last plea was a demand. Spencer groaned into your neck, nodding lightly, no response to your request. His fingers burned bruises into your waist, gripping on to you like he was gonna lose you if he didn’t. That feeling comes at you so quickly you can barely make sense of it, Spencers hands rhythmic in their ability as you convulse, cumming around Spencers calloused fingers and feeling every inch of them in you. You whine in disappointment when he pulls out. He just chuckles, taking his fingers and slipping them between your lips and down the back of your throat. You don’t choke, unsurprising to Spencer really. Saliva coats his fingers which he smears across your lips, just degrading enough for you to giggle.

“Lay on your back from me, I wanna see you,” Spencer doesn’t need to finish his sentence to say that he wants to see how his cum fills you up, such a pretty sight it doesn’t need any words for description.

You lay down, waiting for Spencer who doesn’t wait to get on top of you. That’s when you catch it again - his fucking chain. His name around your neck, hickies from you around his neck just like your name was. Spencer gets on top of you, chain hanging from around neck and all you can think is how fucking badly you needed this man inside of you. The way he had you, feeling this possessive over him made you fucking insane. You knew he’d always keep that chain on, like you were always hanging around his neck anyways but you needed to do more. You wanted to scratch his back up, steal his soul when you gave him head - everything, you wanted to do everything for that man. When he fucks you and you feel all 7inches, stretching you out - cumming inside you like he owned you because he did. So carelessly fucking you, making you cry out his name and now he had your name hanging around his neck. You’d be damned if another person even got near him.

“Say my name when you fuck me,” you request. Spencer groans, slowly doing just as he promised, hitting your cervix before bringing his hips up - ready to fuck the daylights out of you with no question. Your eyes fixated on the jewelry that adorned him as he pounded into you, your voice totally lost to you as you feel his cock pulsate inside of you. He was relentless, the sound of his hips making contact with your backside filling the room with such a filthy sound. It was filthy the way Spencer fucked you. He leans down to you, his chain resting on your chest as he hands move to the side of your face. He wants to hit you, call you his pretty slut before he fills you with his cum. You just flutter your lashes and before he can ask.

“Green,”

Spencer's hands hit the side of your face roughly, the stinging sensation rather pleasing in all reality. Spencer's voice is low, an octave lower and hoarse as he pounds you out like it was nothing.

“You’re such a good slut for me, aren’t you baby? Taking all of me in, like it’s easy. What were you doing while I was gone? Bet you were getting ready for me do this to you, weren’t you. Did any of those toys you used feel as good as me,” Spencers words are callous, and degrading but you loved every second of it. You shake your head.

“Nothing was as good as you,” your response was forced out. Spencer laughs, voice tinged with something dark.

“Nothing,” Spencer pushes his hips as far as he can, making you cry out as he reached the edge “Nothing ever will be,” Spencer finished

You tighten yourself around Spencer, looping your legs around his waist to make sure all of him shoots inside you. He finishes with a loud groan, fucking the cum into you a last few times before pulling out. You’re more turned on than you know what to do with so you loop your fingers in Spencer's chain and kiss him, wet and sloppy as he finishes. He presses his forehead to yours as he kisses you, eyes locking with yours as the both you stare at eachother in euphoric post sex glow. Spencer breaks out into a giggle as he comes down, falling into you when he pulls out and you do the same.

“All this because of a chain?,Spencer asks. You just nod, placing a kiss in Spencers messy hair before sighing.

“If you ever date anyone else, I’ll be the person in prison,” you say stubbornly. Spencer just laughs a little bit more, the two of you lying comfortably as Spencer places kisses over some of the hickies he left.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, love,”

----

taglist: @cynbx @zephyr-studiesjp @skrrrrrrrrrrt @reid-187 @louistwinslover @pastanest @nomajdetective @iamburdened

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds self insert #sfhajk this fic was interesting to write tbh.#idk how to feel yet #dom!spencer

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binniedeactivated · 4 years ago

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txt reactions. || 👾👾

as dads... 👨🏻‍🍼

a/n; i’m sorryyy i’ve been in a fluffy mood lately I haven’t posted smut in a while but I promise I will! enjoy this though <3

soobin -

bro, he’s the clueless dad

doesn’t know anything about being a parent. is lazy about preparing to be a dad but he has a few tricks up his sleeve

everything would fluster the hell out of him. when the baby poops, when the baby pees, when they baby pukes, or when the baby cries he’d get surprised about it every single time as if it doesn’t happen

you know those type of dads where everything is literally a learning moment for them? yes, that’s soobin

is a dorky dad

his children will most likely own him, he won’t own his children

type of dad that gets beat up by his toddler kids for absolutely nothing

they walk in and kick him in the shin while he’s cooking

or pull his hair while he’s trying to read to them before bed

feel like his daughter would be the exact replica of him like seriously, would have his his whole entire face and matching dimples

with that being said, is an absolute sucker for his daughter

gives her anything she wants even if she’s a spoiled brat he’s scared to say no

needs his wife to teach him how to put his foot down

i feel like soobin’s son would be wild asf lmao

repeats every inappropriate thing that soobin says

“daddy? what does bullshit mean?”.

will scold his kids if they’re acting too wild but they never listen to him so it doesn’t really matter

again, he needs his wife to help discipline the kids

i know it can be quite common for parents of color (minorities) to hit their children but in my opinion I don’t really think soobin would hit his kids all that much

he would pay a lot of attention to them though and know them like the back of his hand but he can’t really control the shit that goes on in his wild household

his wife will mainly come home every night to a messy kitchen and messy living room with soobin passed out on the couch and the kids curled on top of him snoring

all in all he loves them though, they’re his babies <3

yeonjun --

honestly, yeonjun is a pretty attentive father

i think he would be veryyyyy playful and affectionate

would want to do EVERYTHING with the baby

want to cook, want to clean, want to watch tv, want to talk to him/her and hold them all the time

has separation anxiety when his children are away from him for too long

even if he’s at work he’ll face time his wife often just so he can see the baby

if he takes his kids to the park he’s literally watching their every move

will still hug and kiss them on their cheeks and forehead no matter how old they get

extremely overprotective

no really, don’t touch yeonjun’s babies unless you want to die

protects his daughter from anyone that tries to date her

i think yeonjun’s son would most likely pick up one of his talents and his daughter will pick up the other

his son can sing and his daughter could dance, vice versa

encourages them to follow their dreams

supports anything and EVERYTHING they

definitely documents everything lmao, even if it’s small he’ll record or take a picture

will make a photo album of all of his children’s achievements

is the type of dad that’s always talking about his kids

literally fr--he mentions them in every conversation

he’s just a proud dad alright? don’t judge him

i think yeonjun’s children would be extremely well behaved and well kept

mostly because yeonjun doesn’t play around LMAO

nah fr, he’s a dad that knows how to scold and punish. his kids know better than to cross him

gives his kids anything they want

takes them on vacations allllll the time

universal studios, disney world, legoland, you name it and he already booked the trip

honestly the type of dad that’s always somewhere having fun with his kids and posting photos on social media

is IN LOVE with being a dad

beomgyu --

lmao beomie is the cool dad

literally will talk to his baby like he/she is grown

“i’m tired of this show. you want to watch netflix? big mouth has a new episode”.

“can you stop crying? that’s weird. all you did was pee. you’re acting you’re a baby or something”.

“why don’t you just use words? tell me when you’re hungry. stop acting like you can’t talk”. (his baby is literally 2 months old)

loves sleeping with his babies the most. loves when they cuddle with him in bed and just fall asleep in his arms and on his chest

plays with them all the time, chasing them around the house playing laser tag or ‘the floor is lava’ lmao

loves playing video games with them, doesn’t let them win just because they’re young

will literally beat them in every game with no remorse, he just tells them they have to learn how to beat him

when they’re older he’ll literally let them do whatever they want

“dad can I go to a party?”. “sure whatever”.

“dad I’m going to a club with my friends”. “alright. be safe”.

“dad I think I’m pregnant”. “damn how that happen? I hope your baby’s father isn’t ugly tbh”.

is the type of dad that will lie to his wife about their children’s bad grades to save their asses

always sugar coats the parent teacher conferences to his wife, telling her that they’re the star students (even if they’re bad as hell)

laughs when one of his kids curse

teaches them the cheat codes to getting what they want in life

his kids ADORE him lmfao

is the most understanding and caring dad there is

taehyun --

strict dad who is a good listener lmao

i think taehyun would be more prepared when he knows he’s about to be a parent. of course he knows he doesn’t know everything but this man would be so prepared lmao

literally would do research on different things just to try and get a better understanding of how children’s minds work

his kids would be baby geniuses please

his daughter would be playing mozart on the piano at the age of two

his son would be a mathematician at four

LMAO i feel like his kids would be smart and mean ASF

literally the bougie kids at school with the latest clothes and shoes and don’t want to associate with the dumber kids

spoiled ROTTEN by taehyun will literally call him for the smallest inconvenience

“dad can you put more money on my credit card? I’m feeling sad today”

“dad I need a spa day”.

and yes taehyun will do these things for them at the drop of a dime

i feel like he’s the type of dad that knows everything, literally can’t outsmart him

if one of his children lies he already knows that they’re lying and already has evidence to prove it

I don’t think any of his children would ever lie to him though lmao taehyun don’t play that shit

type of dad that will allow his spoiled ass kids to live in his house for as long as they want without requiring them to move out

absolutely weak for them

will set up bank accounts and college funds for them

literally does EVERYTHING for them i cannot stress this ENOUGH

will buy their first apartment if they want it

will buy them their first cars

taehyun’s kids : part time job? what’s that?

type of dad that his kids can talk about anything and everything with and they love him for it

can be a crackhead dad too, will do the craziest shit to make his kids laugh

his kids are his world <3

kai --

lmfao i feel like kai is the fine line between being prepared and not knowing what the fuck to do every second

literally needs his wife because he’ll get anxiety trying to make big decisions for them

i think he would be at his prime parenting during the toddler stage since he has a lot of energy. he would bring his kids to trampoline parks and bounce house places allllll the time

his kids’ fondest childhood memories would be somewhere in a bounce house jumping and having fun with their dad

would also love turning on a soft playlist and have coloring sessions with them

is the type to make his kids dress like him, oversized sweaters, baggy jeans and cute sneakers

would buy his kids matching outfits and toys

also would be big on accessories i think. would love buying them cute backpacks, lunchboxes, and pens and pencils lmao

i think kai’s children would be chaotic as helllllllllllll

extremely hyperactive and don’t know the concept of bedtime

has frequent food fights in the kitchen

whenever they take a bath they get suds all over the floor

they eat and nap in the kitchen cabinets even though kai specifically told them not to do that

kids would be EXTREMELY cute so it would always be hard for kai to scold them

his version of scolding is literally, “hey don’t do that”. will never yell or hit

can never find a babysitter for when him and his wife have date nights because his children are always on a rampage

and when they do have do have date nights his children always find a way to facetime him fifteen hundred times about nothing

i think out of all kids, kai’s kids would be the baddest ones in school just because of the contrast lmfaoo

his son draws curse words on his desk

his daughter gets into fights all the time

parent teacher conferences are the funniest because kai is smiling no matter how bad the teacher says his kids are

literally cannot control them LMAO

but they’re so funny and sweet to him he can’t help but become weak for them

when they’re older though I feel like they’ll mellow out only a little but still kinda rebellious

kai is a positive dad who tries his absolute best lmao but he loves them with all his heart <3

#txt #tomorrow by together #yeonjun #yeonjun fluff #soobin #soobin fluff #beomgyu #beomgyu fluff #taehyun #taehyun fluff #heuning kai #heuning kai fluff

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 3 years ago

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Wanda//for it is only temporary

Request: Can I request A Wanda Maximoff x Reader, where reader's part of sword and they get stuck in Westview somehow, maybe they get powers similar to monica, and go to wanda for help

hey! i hope you like this!! this is my first wanda request so i’m sorry if it sucks, but here you go anyway! and thank you @statticscribbles for helping me with this! i’d be lost without you.

“Hold on, what?” Jimmy says and you stop to look up at him. You’re met with concerned eyes from everyone in the room, including Hayward and your own eyes widen a little in surprise.

You cough and look away, busying yourself with the suit that you’re hoping is intact and ready for a trip through the hex. You can feel them staring at you, and it makes your skin crawl, despite the majority of them being your friends as well as colleagues.

They’re waiting for an explanation so they can tell you how bad of an idea it is. And you know it is, you don’t need them to tell you. You’ve spent enough time sat beside the invisible wall trying to find a way in and maybe whatever has caused Monica to rewrite her DNA has seeped into you, but even if it has, at least you haven’t been through it, you’re less likely to...well, to die. And you’ll take those odds, it’s better than the almost guaranteed death of Monica.

“Think about it, Monica can’t exactly go back in, I mean it’s changed her DNA...no offence.” You send her a sympathetic look and she crosses her arms, a small scowl pulling at her lips. “But I haven’t been in, and I know Wanda, well I know her more than all of these people with guns that are gonna be pointed at her as soon as they find her. I can talk to her, like Monica said, she clearly needs help and well, I know what she’s going through, if anyone can help her and those people that are stuck in there, it’s me.”

“Y/-” Darcy starts but you cut her off, the tension in the air is already too heavy, it sits on your chest, making it harder and harder to breath and it’s not helped by all of the concerned looks you’re getting.

“Plus, what era are we in now? The 80s? I’ve always wondered what I’d look like with a perm.” You try to ease the tension with a joke, but the best you get is a forced smile from Jimmy that just makes you feel worse. “I’ll be fine. I have hundreds of people monitoring everything that goes on in there, and I have you.” You look at Darcy and her expression softens. “I know that as soon as you notice one thing wrong, you’ll be the one leading the army in, but please, trust me.” You squeeze her shoulder and she sighs, slumping back in her seat. “Just let me try.”

“Please, don’t kill me!” You panic and throw your arms in the air. Wanda’s hand lowers a few centimetres, but her eyes still glow red and you remind yourself not to breathe too hard, you know, just in case. “I need your help.” You add and her arm drops to her side. She looks behind her, at the sage coloured house that keeps the three people she holds dearest to her. She knows exactly what each of them are doing. Tommy and Billy are using their dad as a climbing frame, and she should be in the kitchen, making them dinner and smiling as she listens to their laughter.

But then she see’s the panic in your eyes. You look scared and she knows she doesn’t know you, but somewhere deep down she feels like she does. Maybe in another life you were friends, maybe if things were different, you would be friends.

“Listen, I probably shouldn’t be telling you this.” You slowly walk closer to her and she stands straighter. “But there is a bunch of people outside of this place with guns and bombs and god knows what, just waiting to come in here and destroy it. But I’m not one of them, and neither is Monica or Darcy or Jimmy. In fact, Darcy and Jimmy have been enjoying this maybe a little too much, but that’s not the point. We want to help you, but we can’t do that if you keep kicking us out, because the people with the guns will come in and they will tear this place down, no matter what.” You explain and you watch her expression change. It goes from confusion, to anger and finally settles on sadness as tears pool in her eyes.

“So why are you here?” She asks, her eyebrows furrowing as she looks you up and down.

“Because I wanted to talk to you.” You say and she raises her hands, twisting and turning them together and your eyes widen in panic. You quickly stand straighter and wave your hands around. “But, not anymore.” You add quickly. “Listen, before I came in here, I couldn’t do this.” You say and your eyes change from their normal colour to an icy blue.

“Oh.” Wanda says confused and you nod slowly.

“Yeah. I also wasn’t bulletproof and I could barely fight my way out of a sleeping bag that one time I went camping, but I can now have people on the floor in seconds without breaking a sweat. I don’t know what to do. On the way here, an older woman asked how I was and I threw her into a house across the street.” You frown and watch her think for a few seconds. “So, please help. Because, well I can’t seem to control these and I actually quite like not assaulting random people.”

“What do you think I can do?” She blinks and glances back at her house again.

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “But you created this place, and you seem to be pretty good at controlling your powers...most of the time.” You mumble the last part and she glares at you. “But well, I figured who better to talk to when you suddenly find yourself become a superher-Oh, holy shit! Am I gonna be an avenger-right sorry, not the time.” You shake your head and she stares at you blankly for a few seconds. “I’m Y/n by the way.” You add quickly and she rolls her eyes.

“Fine.” She nods. “I’ll help, but any mention of destroying this place and I’ll make sure you’ll never be able to use your newly found powers anymore.” She threatens making you gulp.

With a flick of her wrist, your suit is transformed into a pair of blue jeans and a very loud t-shirt. Bright eye shadow irritates your eyes and when you try to move your hair from your eyes, your met with tight curls and your face lights up.

“Did you just give me a perm?” You ask and she looks at your hair before nodding.

“I thought you’d like it.” She shrugs. “Don’t get used to this. You’re only here until you learn to control your powers and then I’m kicking you out and nobody is going to bother my family again.” She says lowly and you gulp.

You’re about to reply when footsteps come running down the path towards you. You look up and see Tommy and Billy running towards you with bright smiles on their faces. Vision follows shortly after and you forgot how to breathe for a few seconds, it’s like you’re looking at a ghost. He smiles at you and you return it before focusing your attention on the boys, it’s too much to see Vision alive and well right now.

“Boys, this is Y/n, she’s just moved in across the street.” She introduces you to the twins and they grin and wave at you.

“Hey,”

There’s an awkward silence for a few seconds before Wanda jumps in and paints a bright smile on her face.

“Why don’t we welcome her to the neighbourhood and go bake some cookies for her!” She says and the boys cheer before running back into the house.

Vision waves at you, but it feels off, it’s like he’s trying to figure out if he’s seen you around. And he has, just not here.

“Dad!” Tommy shouts and Vision pulls his gaze away from you. He blinks and follows his sons back into the house.

It’s just you and Wanda now, and as soon as Vision walks through the front door, her smile falls.

“Remember what I said.” She says and you nod quickly.

“Yep, only temporary.” You reply and she gives you an approving look, before walking away. You look around, hoping that Darcy and Jimmy are watching and send them an unsure thumbs up.

The credits roll, over a freeze frame of your face, and Darcy and Jimmy stare at each other.

“Shit.” Darcy mumbles.

support my writing! if you want!

#wandavision #wandavision imagine #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda imagine #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader

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hansolmates · 4 years ago

Text

jjk; off-league

summary; you decide to do a little boudoir photoshoot for yourself—a little sexy lingerie, some bunny ears, maybe even a little nudity to make you feel more body positive about yourself. that little photoshoot doesn’t end up being for yourself anymore when you accidentally send those sexy pictures to your stupidly hot, stupidly talented childhood friend who you haven’t spoken to since middle school graduation. pairing; photographer!jk x fem!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers!au, flangst, mutual pining, feelings of insecurity and body image, suggestive language, nudity w.c; 6.2k a/n: i was feeling a lil meh about this fic after finishing it but a month later it finally makes its debut! for @btsghostiewritersnet BGW Bingo Bash! today’s trope is “childhood friends to lovers” which surprisingly isn’t a favorite of mine so it was definitely a challenge to write!

“C’mon, I need your opinion. Deadass. Don’t just say shit to make me feel better.”

“Gimmie those nudes, baby girl,” Johnny makes an impeccable fuckboy impersonation, making you feel a little squirmy to your stomach.

It’s an hour away from being the ass-crack’o-dawn and your impromptu pin-up photoshoot just needs the sexy-star-of-approval from your best friend. Johnny Suh is also up for reasons unmentioned, but you had a feeling his pretty boyfriend is fifty percent of the reason.

You look at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your frame against the black bodice of the sheer teddy. The only parts that are fully concealed are the parts that don’t matter. The sheer bodice reveals your pert nipples concealed by a thin black mesh, coupled with the deep V in the sweetheart neckline, accented by a little black bow in the dive of your highlighted cleavage. The silky a-line raceways to a set of black garters hugging your thighs, barely hanging onto a pair of lace thigh-highs.

It doesn’t leave you butt naked, but enough to make you feel confident about yourself. These pictures are for you, and Johnny. And Johnny’s boyfriend if he’s being nosy.

You tug off the silk bunny ears from your head, flinging it somewhere in your room. The wire started to dig in your brain, giving you a major headache.

“Sending them now,” you hang up and start compiling the pictures in a folder on Google Drive. Once that’s done you copy the shareable link, sending it to Johnny’s number. It happens all so fast, and you feel kind of giddy. As you were posing for the camera, taking your time to find all the right angles, you felt good, you felt sexy in your little get up. Channeling your inner Ariana Grande was one of your childhood dreams, your fifteen year old self would be proud.

Five minutes pass, fifteen, and by the twenty-five minute mark you’re pissed. What’s taking Johnny so long?

Makeup scrubbed clean and face bare, you shuffle in your duvet, far too tired to be waiting up this long. Punching in his number once more, you cry, “Hey! Why haven’t you looked at them yet?”

“What?” your friend’s voice sounds pebbly through the line. Was Johnny sleeping? “You never sent them!” he whines tiredly.

“No, I definitely sent them!” you pull the phone away and keep Johnny on call, ready to prove him wrong.

But to your surprise, the last message you sent to Johnny was this afternoon.

The most recent message is to a person named John Kook.

You scream.

Johnny screams back at you with an equal amount of force, “What the fuck? Did someone break in? Are you being mobbed? See, this is why I wanted to put the baby monitor in your room—”

“Worse!” you’re well prepared for any break in, but not for this. “I sent my pics to the wrong John!”

“Well… is he at least cute?”

“I mean, in the fourth grade he looked pretty cute with that front tooth missing,” you find your output of frustration, your bunny plush, pulling it by the ear and hitting it against the bed. “His name isn’t even John! It was just his English name for a silly project we did in middle school. This is so embarrassing, all I can picture is a twelve-year-old Jungkook mortified from sexual harassment. I basically sent him nudes!”

“Tasteful nudes.”

“I’m gonna die.”

“He’s gonna die, of happiness.”

Jeon Jungkook was a classmate from elementary through middle school. Time and time again was he the object of your affections, from the first grade at the roller rink to the speech he made at graduation. But really, who cares? You’re old and have a job, and it’s not like you’ve communicated with any of your former classmates.

Your horror amplifies when the Delivered receipt is changed to Read 3:41AM.

“Fuck! Fuck me with a fuckin’ fuck nugget he saw it!” you cry, “does he still have my number? What if he deleted my contact, would that be even weirder?”

“Girl, stop.” Johnny sighs, and you can already picture him running his thumb between his brows. “This doesn’t change anything, alright? You two don’t know each other anymore. Block his number and go to sleep.”

Johnny leaves you alone after that, and you’re left alone to mull over the implications of sending Jeon Jungkook your nude photoshoot.

You do block his number, knowing that waiting for a reply would drive you nuts. The one thing that you do which is possibly worse, is look him up on Instagram.

Of course, he’s stupid hot.

He doesn’t seem to like being on the receiving end of the camera however, in favor of his timeline being filled with romantic shots of the beach and city. In between the picturesque views and watercolor sunsets do you see glimpses of him and his current life. You can’t help but smile when you see him with his brother and parents during his college graduation, easily towering over all of them. He looks tall with fluffy cocoa hair, big pearly whites gleaming proudly at the camera. He grew up well.

To torture yourself even more, you even look through his story. Twelve hours ago, he was at the gym lifting weights. Normally, you’d be disgusted by people trying to show off their grunt faces drenched in sweat, but of course Jungkook has to have on a silly smile and pump his fist up after he deadlifts. The sweat clinging to his shirt is also a high plus. His gorgeous display of abs has your hands fluttering over your own belly. Maybe you need to exercise more.

Four hours ago, you see him and a pretty woman with their cheeks squished together, using the puppy filter. Of course he has a girlfriend.

Reluctant, you open up your Google Drive and scroll through your photoshoot. Deflated, you frown at the pictures that once made you beam with pride, picking at every little detail that bothered you. You really can’t believe you sent these to Jeon Jungkook, no longer a fourth grader with one front tooth, but a man way out of your league.

By the time you will yourself to sleep, the sun peeks from the horizon, telling you to move on.

“Hey Gyu,” you tiptoe over to the table much too small for Mingyu’s frame. The string bean is slumped over his iPad pro, drawing intently at some chibi OCs. “Got a plot for that one?” you ask, pointing at the little pink and blue creature decorating the screen.

Mingyu grunts in reply, obviously engrossed. It isn’t until you slide him a matcha frappe from Starbucks that he becomes intelligible, muttering a “thank you” as he blends with his pen.

Sensing that it’s going to be awhile before you get through to him, you take your usual rounds around the front desk and lobby of the cosy photo studio. There’s pretty pictures of Mingyu’s work, along with the other employees Minghao and Hoseok. Each section of the wall features a different taste of each person’s interest. Mingyu is a divine lover of soft bed sheets and hot tea, many of his photographs and paintings featuring cafes or perfectly messy beds you’ve seen on hotel advertisements. Minghao is a tasteful artisan, splotches of color retaliating against neutral backgrounds. Finally, Hoseok manages to find balance in the people, large cityscapes telling both large and small stories.

“Alright,” Mingyu’s deep voice forces you to curl your head, where he’s sipping at his drink with haste. “What’cha here for?”

You frown, “Don’t you remember? I told you last week I’d be stopping by to get my photos developed,” you gesture to the Pentax in your hands, an heirloom from your great-aunt. While you did take digital photos for sending them to Johnny, the ones you wanted developed were taken side-by-side with the film camera. You figured that film would give a little more authenticity to your photoshoot.

“Shit, that’s today?” the camera falls like deadweight, slapping against your sweater as you watch Mingyu frantically look through his digital calendar. He looks at you, dejected. “How many prints?”

“I don’t know, maybe like six. Or eight?”

“That’s gonna take too long, I’m heading down to Hidden Grounds for a vision meeting at two.”

“Alright, I’m free all day. What about after?”

“Nah, you came all this way. I can just let the new guy help you.” and Mingyu makes a show of cupping his hands in the direction of the open hallway, “Yah, Jeon Jungkook! Get your cute ass out here!”

The Pentax around your neck suddenly feels like weight akin to a two-ton boulder, and you surge forward, not caring that the corner of the table is digging into your belly. “Mingyu,” you garble, and Mingyu is shell-shocked by the desperation in your eyes. “Isn’t Minghao around or something? Or I can come back another time? These photos are really personal and I don’t feel comfortable having a stranger see them.”

“What? We’re professionals, don’t belittle us.”

“No, seriously,” you whine, you tug at the collar of his denim jacket, noses practically touching. “These pictures are different. My tits are out and my legs are spread—”

“—interrupting something?”

You hear some shuffling, and you turn around to see Jeon Jungkook’s back, comically turned to face the entrance.

And damn, he did have a cute ass. Nothing is going to hide the glory in those jeans, absolutely nothing.

“Hilarious,” Mingyu drawls, and you push him away. “Forget it, Kook. She doesn’t feel comfortable letting a stranger develop her photos.”

Sensing that it’s safe to turn around, you watch as his black bangs flutter as he faces you. You hope your body language doesn’t betray how you’re really feeling, because you are a mere mortal and you’re weak in the presence of god-like figures.

“Oh, what a relief then,” he smiles at you, and his voice sounds like honey. If there was malice or surprise in his tone, his good-natured expression betrays it. “Because I’ve known this friend since elementary school. We go way back.”

You ignore the burn in the back of your head, as you are positive Mingyu knows you’re hiding something.

“Really, what a coincidence.” Mingyu replies carefully, and you feel utterly stuck between these men and their banter, locked up like cream in an Oreo cookie.

Nothing argues against Jungkook as he easily weaves through the thick wave of awkwardness, hands reaching out to touch your camera. “Wow,” he marvels, holding the object in his hands, “my dad has one of these.”

“A-ha,” you take a step back, only to bump into the corner of the table, again. Ouch. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I’m actually busy today so I can come when Mingyu’s free–”

“Oh, I thought you were free all day,” Mingyu drawls, looking up through his lashes as he sips languidly at his drink.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook says good-naturedly, as if Mingyu just didn’t out you. “We got a lot of catching up to do anyway, c’mon.”

Jungkook moves to place a hand in the small of your back and that’s enough to get you to rev up. Refusing to let any contact get between the two of you, you zip ahead down the familiar hallway, turning your head to catch Mingyu grinning with all canines, shooing you with his fingers like a puppy.

You send Mingyu a stream of “fuck yous” into his inbox for later, unwilling to settle with this curse. Busying yourself with your phone, you avoid eye contact with Jungkook until you reach the dark room. The red light turned off at the top of the doorhenge signals that the room is not in use. Jungkook makes a move to open the door and that’s when you pounce, blocking the doorway with your small body. It’s comical, really.

Jungkook raises a brow at you, but says nothing.

“I really can wait, Jungkook,” you steel yourself, forcing a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t like you developing my pictures—”

It’s then that his pretty cupid’s bow unfurls into a full-fledged grin. “Girlfriend... you’ve been keeping tabs on me?”

“Fuck, well I had to!” your face is as red as the dark room’s alert light, now on because Jungkook flicked the switch and he’s between your arm to unlock the door. Your hand brushes his as you both reach the knob. “I’m really really sorry I sent those pictures. They were for Johnny—you remember Johnny Suh from English class? And I saved you in my contacts as “John Kook” so it was an honest mess up.”

Jungkook hums, so light that the breathiness in his chords flutters your grip on the knob. He forces the door ajar, and you’re left to follow him in the dark room, cluttered with solutions and fancy equipment.

“Thought so,” Jungkook shrugged, giving a one-over at the materials in the room, mulling over his next steps in developing your film.

You’re still petrified at the doorway, holding your Pentax between both hands like a lifeline. Jungkook’s head lols to you, and you get a pretty view of the way his bangs brush over his forehead, Adam’s Apple bobbing. His expression is a little tired, but overall unreadable. He sighs your name, lethargic.

“We’re already here, so might as well get this done,” he gestures to the camera in your vice grip. “Do you wanna pick the shots or do you want me to?”

He’s already seen the digitals, what’s so different about getting a couple prints? With a slight pout you drag your feet over to him, relinquishing your camera. “I’m thinking you have a better eye for this than I do.”

“You think right.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Cocky, but what you’ve seen on Instagram definitely justifies his sentiment. Jungkook pays no mind to you, busying his hands with the various containers in front of him, measuring the solutions for the developer, stopper, and fixer. You were always entranced by the process of developing film, especially in highschool where their photography club holed themselves in the darkroom like a secret lair.

“Alright,” he pops open the canister, carefully laying out sections of the film in groups of four. “Want me to pick a random one for a tester?”

You frown, “At least put some thought into it.”

“Always,” it looks like he already decided way before he popped the question, immediately taking a negative and placing it in the carrier.

His fingers are nimble as he takes the time to clean off the dust and any debris that could potentially ruin the image. Then he turns off the lights and begins the process. You dive around him, trying to keep your distance but still too curious to leave his side. If he’s annoyed he fails to show it, in favor of humming whatever song comes from his Echo Dot.

You always got the solos in choir. You wanted to reminisce, but you’re too nervous to say it out loud.

Even though it’s his job and he’s being a professional, you romanticize the experience, watching as he carefully puts the print in each liquid process. Your image blooms to life, and you feel your stomach churn as the photo develops before your eyes.

After a final dip in the solution stopper, he places the first product in a bath of water. Even though you are mere centimeters away, you can clearly see the image of you swimming around the container.

“Alright!” Jungkook hangs the finished picture on a pastel pink clothespin, tacking it in place. “Whaddya think?”

Your breath catches in your throat, feeling heavy as you look at the image of you reflected in the glossy paper. You’re perched on your bed, a hand splaying between your legs as the other hand toys with the silk bunny ears. You’re leaned slightly, giving an ample view of your cleavage. However, the image of you is definitely different from being blown up in comparison to the negatives, and you squirm uncomfortably at your full display.

“I look,” you bite your tongue, internally debating whether you like it or not. Not to spare Jungkook the theatrics you shrug, “It’s good.”

The lack of enthusiasm seems to dissatisfy Jungkook however, as he has to take a double take and look back and forth between the image and the real thing. “What’s wrong with it, do you think Johnny’ll not like it?”

“What?” you furrow your brows, breaking into a nervous laugh. “Johnny has a boyfriend. I just wanted his opinion. This photoshoot is for me, y’know? Just something to make me feel good about myself.”

Jungkook’s lips morph into a little ‘o’, and you see a little bit of the child you once knew in the way he’s mulling over the situation.

“Then can I give you my honest opinion?” Jungkook clips off the half-dried photo, holding it between you two. “Stop thinking so hard about every little thing you don’t like about yourself. If I was your boyfriend and you gifted this to me, I’d be creaming my pants. You look fucking sexy, all grown up since you cried in the fourth grade.”

You’ve just been flung a litany of words you have no brain capacity to digest. Along with that, the immense heat you didn’t know you’ve been suppressing surges to your belly, low and simmering. Jungkook stares at you in earnest, despite his sudden gush of honesty, you don’t know what to say. There’s a dash of pink staining his cheeks, betraying the confidence he previously displayed. He stiffens when you don’t reply immediately and moves to clean his materials, his sudden bout of bold honesty quickly shrinking.

“Y-you know,” you look down at your feet, “the only reason why I cried in the fourth grade was because you told me Santa wasn’t real.”

Jungkook softens, tilting his head. “Sorry about that.”

“Thanks though,” you gently reach for the photo in Jungkook’s grasp, looking at it without contempt. “But won’t your girlfriend be upset if she knew you were saying things like this about someone else?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, if you looked through the rest of my Instagram story,” Jungkooks cards a hand through his already mussed hair, splitting the ends. “You would see that she’s not my girlfriend, but my tattoo artist.”

For added measure, he wiggles his fingers in front of you, revealing pretty ink and silver bands across his knuckles.

“Oh,” your voice is feather light, and you’re sure you’re drooling as you stare far too long at the letters that mark his hands, curious as to what they symbolize.

“So, as a singleton telling another singleton,” he continues, “I know it’s meaningless if you don’t believe it yourself, but I’m telling you, you’re attractive.”

“Thanks,” you hold the picture tightly in your grasp, eyes flickering to the negatives in the room ready to be galvanized into a full-fledged picture. “Why don’t we wrap this up, huh? We can continue another time.”

If he notices how much the paper wilts in your grasp, he doesn’t comment on it. “Are you sure? I know it takes a lot of time, but I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure,” you force a smile, one hand on the lightswitch. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready, okay?”

Jungkook swallows, nodding mechanically. “Okay.”

“It was really nice seeing you, Kook.” you blurt before you could chicken out, letting the room bask in darkness a little longer so he can’t see your flustered state. “I’m not even going to downplay it, you look great.”

You half-expect a cocky remark, or a little chest pumping from the compliment. At the sound of his nickname however, 4th grade Jeon Jungkook resurfaces and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Like I said, so do you,” he replies easily, sending you a soft smile and opening the door for you.

The door closes shut behind you and you exhale, patting your cheeks and willing for the chilly air to calm you down.

When you get home that day, you shuck off all your clothes and crawl into bed. You cry out when the metal framing of your bunny ears stabs you in the back, and you fling it to some unmentionable part of the room. You reach for a bag of half-opened sour gummy worms, flipping open your MacBook to continue streaming the soft magical girl anime you’ve been hooked on these past few weeks.

Not even Sailor Uranus can distract you; however, by the time it’s dark and you’ve run out of distractions, you finally pull the plug and unblock Jungkook from your list of contacts.

Your phone buzzes, the incessant vibration relaying all the messages you’ve missed.

[March 12th, 3:53AM]

You: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/0343…

John Kook: ???

John Kook: you probably sent this to me by accident… sorry i clicked on it

John Kook: is it weird if i said you’ve done a massive glow up since the middle school dance?

[March 12th, 12:02 PM]

John Kook: are u mad

John Kook: you’re mad

John Kook: am i makin this weird by continuing to text you

John Kook: im making it weird.

[March 31st, 6:24 PM]

John Kook: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/049…

You tilt your head at the folder link, it was sent only a few hours ago. With a click, you’re enlightened to a set of digital photos. Your photos from your photoshoot, but not quite. They’ve been expertly edited, not too much to distort your looks, but only to enhance your features. A small, barely there smile creeps from your subconscious, ultimately touched by the gesture.

John Kook: sorry if i pushed too hard today.

Guilt overrides your nerves, prompting you to immediately press the call button on his contact. Not to your surprise, Jungkook’s light voice calls your name through the line after the second ring.

“Don’t be sorry,” you blurt, forgoing the hellos. “It was the right amount of push, I feel better, really. If anything, I’m sorry. I blocked your number because I was scared to read your reaction.”

You hear him sigh along the line, and you feel that breath ripple through your nerves, as if he’s right next to you. “It’s fine, I would’ve done the same thing.”

“The pictures you just sent, they’re really beautiful. You did a good job.”

“Thanks, I had a bit of help. I didn’t have to do much.”

“Oh, did Mingyu come back from his meeting?”

"No, I uh," Jungkook chuckles, and while you don't really know why, the sound is nonetheless pleasant. “It was mostly the lighting and coloring I fixed up. Didn’t need to do much since you already looked so pretty as it is.”

You choke on your saliva.

“You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you cough, “just choked on a snack I was eating.” he hums in reply, and you pray he doesn’t hear your stomach fervently retort that you haven’t eaten since lunch. “So, I think I’m up for developing more of the film. When can I drop by?”

“I’m free Saturday,” Jungkook chirps, “I have a shoot until noon but you can come anytime after that.”

“Sounds good, I’ll be there,” you clutch the phone with both hands. “I can bring lunch. What do you like to eat?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“I’m already buying for Minghao,” you lie, “do you like burgers?”

“I can’t say no to a good burger,” Jungkook’s smile feels almost palpable against the line, “do you remember our field trip to the national museum of history? We had burgers on the street!”

“Oh, those were so good,” you moan, fuzzy memories of a middle grade field trip resurfacing to clarity, “but you ate like, ten of them!”

“I still get nightmares,” he warns, “don’t let me go to bed like this.”

You giggle, letting your body meld further into your warm mattress. “Maybe I’ll just show up with ten burgers for you tomorrow.”

“I’ll throw up on you, try me.”

Minghao’s adjusting the frames on their display wall by the centimeter, and it’s pissing him off.

“Ah, it’s off,” he mutters to himself when you walk in, indicated by the electronic bell. He turns to you briefly, pulling a leveler out of his overall pocket. “Doesn’t this look off?”

“Uh,” you look towards Mingyu at the front desk, who is paying no mind as he continues scribbling on his iPad. You tilt your head towards your former college classmate. “It doesn’t look off from over here?”

Tacking the leveler on one of the frames, he whines, “It’s five degrees off.”

Mingyu puts his pen down to reach over the counter and grab the paper from your hands, steaming with the scent of fast food, “He’s been like this for hours, don’t mind him.”

He doesn’t even ask whether the food is his, Mingyu sees grease and he claims. Reaching for an oil-wrapped parchment, he unfolds the paper to reveal a handsome burger with all the fix-ens.

Barely satisfied, Minghao steps away from the art display. There is a sizable gap in the display, now divided between four artists instead of three. You wonder how Jungkook’s work will look amongst the other artists.

“Cute ‘fit.” Minghao mumbles, nodding approvingly at your clothes as he digs into the bag for his own burger.

You send a half-smile his way. If an outfit is Minghao-approved, that means you’ve gone above and beyond. At least, you tried to play it off like you didn’t try to look cute. It’s not like you’re intimidated by Jungkook, living with a major fifteen-year glow up. After all, he’s already seen more than you can imagine.

Mingyu takes notice, eyes going south to where your white blouse meets your cleavage. You hurl a fry at his face, “Eyes up here, perv.”

He scrunches his nose, lifting a greasy thumb to slide a manila envelope over to you. “Here’s the developed pictures. Intercepted Kook and I finished them this morning.”

You frown, “Jungkook’s not done with his photoshoot yet?”

“Oh, he’s been done.” Mingyu’s eyes roll back to one of the studios. “But I’m saying is, you got what you needed. So you can leave if you want,” but he grins at you, canines so sharp you feel his stare jabbing you in the proverbial neck. “Unlesssss you want to go in and say hi.”

If he has any inkling of what’s going on in your head, it’s definitely confirmed when your face turns hot. Damn body, you’re betraying me! With a flourish you grab the fries from under Mingyu’s nose, along with whatever’s left in the fast food bag.

Minghao’s smiling through his burger, knowing if he pulls any type of savagery his lunch would certainly be pulled from under his chin.

“Whatever you’re thinking, drop it or the burger will be going in your ass instead of out.” You mean to sound menacing, but the Min-squared and their boisterous laughter follow you down the hallway and into the occupied studio.

“Hey Jungkoo—wow.”

You’re sure you look like Alice, enthralled by the little wonderland she just stepped into. The set is beautiful, right out of a fairytale. It has a very old-romance vibe, like Morticia and Gomez Addams. There lay a couch made of the darkest, richest wood, with velvet red cushions covering the body. Across the floor laid hundreds of black rose petals, blanketing the floor in a sea of ebony.

“It’s for a wedding, gothic themed.” Jungkook supplies helpfully, still fiddling with whatever he was looking on his digital camera. He’s looking utterly soft in a matching grey sweat combination, something that would easily disgust you during high school, but unfairly works with him.

“The shoot must’ve been beautiful.”

“It was.”

“I uh, got this for you.” Your fingers start to sweat from clutching the bag so hard, and you place it on his work table.

He finally looks up from his camera, giving you a wan smile. “I thought you got those for Minghao.”

You mentally slap your cheeks, trying to ignore the way his smile made your stomach do somersaults. “He got his own. Your portion has a cookie in it, so.”

His cute teeth unveil themselves at the mention of sweets, and you can’t help but smile back at the familiarity.

The two of you take your time in enjoying your lunch, not meaning to stay but the very back of your mind hoping he’d like to share a meal with you. After all, Mingyu and Minghao are probably at the front relishing in your very obvious attraction. What can you say, first crushes never die.

Between sips of your milkshake, you’ve taken to flipping through Jungkook’s portfolio. There’s a myriad of different subjects: beaches, people, the occasional squirrel. Each section of the portfolio feels like you’re being transported to a new side of Jungkook and his artistry, and you ached to know more.

“Wow,” you point at an action shot of two girls in a dance studio, “this duo looks like Chungha and Hyoyeon.”

He swallows his (second) burger, having the audacity to sink sheepishly in his sweater. “It is Chungha and Hyoyeon.”

You nearly choke on your cookie. “That’s amazing.” you say breathlessly, looking closer at the image. In fact, the beautiful women photographed are famed hip-hop choreographers Chungha and Hyoyeon. You can’t imagine how good Jungkook must be to manage a photoshoot with them.

As proud as you are of Jungkook, it reminds you that since middle school you two have lived completely different lives. You wonder if Jungkook gets these kinds of gigs all the time, hanging around with gorgeous, talented people like himself.

Jungkook says your name once, twice. He looks at you concerned, and you’re melting in his large carmine eyes. If he notices your usual overthinking, he doesn’t say anything, and gestures to the section at the end of his portfolio. “This isn’t my best work, but it’s one of my favorites.”

There’s something familiar about this set. A playground with a busted swing set. Children riding on bikes and colorful class shirts. Ice cream melting on fists.

Thirteen-year-old you hanging on top of your middle school’s leafless tree, clutching your baseball cap as you shade yourself from the sunset.

“Was this the first time you took pictures?” you ask, thumbing the picture of yourself.

“Yeah. It’s when I decided it’s what I wanted to do the rest of my life.”

“I know we didn’t know each other that well and we’ve only recently connected but,” you give him a shy smile, “I’m really proud of what you’ve grown up to be, Jungkook.”

He looks like you’ve hung him the moon and stars, his half-eaten burger loosening in his grasp. His lips are parted cutely, like a kitten who’s just been offered a fresh glass of milk. You cough at the sudden pause in conversation, feeling self-conscious of your impulse confession. You don’t even have it in you to be disgusted when Jungkook hastily shoves the second half of his burger down his throat, tips of his ears pink.

Leaving him be, you press a palm to your cheek, looking at the wedding set.

Jungkook downs half a water bottle before he speaks again. “Y’know, it would be a shame to clean up this set already. It was kind of expensive.”

“Yeah,” you echo, standing up and kicking off your slippers. You kick your feet in the air, watching the black petals kiss across your ankles.

“I have an idea,” he wipes his hands on his sweats, “why don’t you go back home and get an outfit you really like. Lingerie, a cute outfit, whatever. Let me give you a photoshoot you’d love.”

You look up from your petal dance, balking. “Jungkook! That’s not necessary, I told you the photos I took were okay.”

“Yeah but, you didn’t seem entirely happy. C’mon, I got a camera and a beautiful set. Why waste it?” his hands naturally gravitate towards his charging camera, already turning it on. “I can do lighting, I know all your good angles. What’s stopping us?”

Really, what’s stopping you? Your hands fiddle with your open flannel, the soft material comforting you as you look across the set. You try to imagine yourself, your body draped across the velvet pillows and black petals. Would it look good? Would you feel good? You think back to how you felt the first time, how scared you were when someone other than Johnny would be looking at your photos. You remember how something weird and sour contorted in your stomach when you scrolled through Jeon Jungkook’s Instagram, no longer the little boy you knew but a man who could have everything he wanted—

“Stop thinking about it.” Jungkook suddenly snaps, and you break from your reverie to catch him looking upset. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen him like that.

“Thinking about what?”

“Thinking that you’re out of my league.”

“Excuse me?”

“You were like this the other day too,” and he looks sad, and puts his camera down to come closer to you. “Why are you feeling this way. Is it me?”

“Not necessarily,” you huff, hugging yourself.

“Do you not feel beautiful? Do you not like your body?”

“No, I do.” you say to yourself, and you mean it. Even though there will inevitably be days where you may not feel one-hundred percent positive about yourself, you know at the end of the day, you love you and all its parts. “I don’t know, Jungkook. I had no problem letting Mingyu develop the photos originally, because he knew me in college and I was already sure of myself back then. But I guess when I sent them to you, I felt like I did when I was a little girl, y’know? Going through puberty, and worrying about what other people think.”

And it’s not like Jungkook teased you or made you feel lesser of yourself. In fact, Jungkook was the student you wanted to be when you were younger. Someone sweet and caring, and unabashedly confident about himself.

“I guess seeing you so successful and the fact that my stupid childhood crush came back from a time where I always felt low, made me feel a little insecure again.”

Something sinks in and you feel hyper aware of how crushed Jungkook looks at your declaration. “There’s no leagues, you got that?” he says quietly, walking so close that he’s hovering over you, sneakers brushing. “I get it. I get unsure and insecure just like you. Hell, I was nervous this morning, wondering if you’d really come. We may not feel insecure over the same things, but middle school wasn’t that great for me either.” He makes a funny face, and you feel a smile twitch across your lips. “But it’s okay. Because we’re human and we grow. But now, you are successful. You’ve grown from your time growing up and you’re a wonderful, powerful person. I’m proud of you too.”

“I know,” you mumble, leaning your forehead against his chest. His arms wrap around you in response, holding you snug.

“And for the record, I thought you were the most beautiful person in the world in fourth grade. Even though my world was pretty small back then, I can say now that what I thought back then still stands true.”

You look up from his embrace, where he’s leaning down to press a slow, cotton soft kiss to your forehead. He backs up a little to read your face, and you give a tiny nod in response to signal it’s okay. Jungkook exhales in contentment, relaxing against your frame.

“Thanks, Kook,” you crack a smile, feeling your insecurities slowly evaporate. You feel better, light, knowing that these negative feelings are only temporary, and you’re not alone. Being in Jungkook’s arms, an honest boy turned man you’ve known all your life, it feels almost like home.

You two stay like this for a while. Exchanging feather-like kisses, feeling irrevocably young and hopeful. Suddenly feeling emboldened, you tug him by the strings of his hoodie to press a long, hot kiss to his lips. There’s a stutter, and you’re pretty sure Jungkook choked on his saliva at the sudden change of pace but you continue, letting Jungkook catch up and follow your lead.

“Wow,” Jungkook pulls away and his lips are shiny and flushed. Adorable. You think 7th grade Jungkook would be rolling in his Naruto sheets if he knew you two would inevitably end up together. Conversely, 7th grade you would be squealing in your kitten plushie, proud that you managed to nab your childhood crush to live out all the fantasies you’ve imagined since the 4th grade.

“Jungkook,” you let your flannel fall to the floor in a heap, only leaving your baby blue top in a thin ruched camisole. “I think I want to do the photoshoot. Can’t pass up these pretty petals, y’know?”

He runs a hand through his hair, gaping. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you press a wet kiss to his neck, “anyway you want me, baby. Full creative control. I want you to like this as much as I do, okay?”

With the permission to hold the wheel, Jungkook’s lightheaded and spinning. His eyes rake up and down your gorgeous form, wondering how many good deeds he’s done in his past life to earn a right just as this.

“In that case,” he presses a palm to your shoulder, pushing you to sit along the velvet cushion, “strip for me.”

#jungkook fic #btsghostiebingo #goldenclosetnet #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bts fic #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader

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wesimpforxiao · 4 years ago

Text

Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 7.2

Author’s Note: This is the longest chapter so far!! *ehe* Can’t wait for all the comments on this one....

Xiao eyed the three Fatui agents that were in charge of escorting the two of you to Dottore's arena the next day. You found it rather odd that Childe and Dottore didn't accompany them this time, but didn't question it until they sought to bring only you with them.

Is this a chance for Xiao to escape? Your gaze flit to the yaksha behind you as the agents bound your wrists with metal cuffs. Xiao seemed as confused as you were. "Where are we going?" You asked in hopes that they'll take you far enough away to avoid Xiao's powers. They didn't answer you and pushed you out of the hallway.

They stopped just short of the throne room, taking a right instead of heading for those giant unwelcoming doors. When they opened the next door, you halted. It seemed like it was meant for some sort of conference room, but lighting was a bit over-the-top with candle lights and such. A delicious aroma rose steadily into the air from the exquisite food that sat on the table.

"You're an idiot if you think this will woo me," you snorted as the agents removed your cuffs and left the room. "Let's skip the crap, Tartaglia, and tell me what the hell you think you're doing."

"Why so skeptical, ojou-chan? I just thought you'd like something to eat." Childe held a smug smirk that complimented the devious glint in his eyes.

"Uh, yeah no. I'll be going back to my cell now." You spun on your heel and grabbed the doorknob.

"If you insist, I could fetch Dottore and resume your testing for the day." When your hand froze on the knob, his smile widened. "That's what I thought. Sit."

You sat as far away from him as physically possible, and it drew a light chuckle from his lips. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to check in with you." Childe grabbed a fork with ease and began to dig into the meal. "This kind of treatment could continue day after day if you chose to cooperate."

"Are you trying to butter me up with food? Do you seriously not know me well enough to know this trick won't work on me?"

"I seem to recall that it worked if it was chocolate," a boyish glint sparkled in his eyes.

Your fist slammed on the table and your eyes began to glow from the agitation. "If you're trying to pull that 'shark week' stunt again, I swear I will--"

"--'Impale me?' Were those the words you were looking for?"

"Okay, if there is no point to this conversation other than to infuriate me, I'm leaving."

"Have you thought of what I said, ojou-chan?" When you raised an unamused brow, he continued. "You can make a life for yourself here. I'm sure with your...unique abilities, you'd be able to climb the ranks and might even rise to harbinger status."

"I have no interest in becoming a harbinger."

"The point being, you could choose whatever path you want if you joined us."

"The last time I checked, the Childe I knew enjoyed watching me suffer. Why is he going out of his way to recruit me?"

"I think it'd be much easier on all of us if you joined our ranks. Besides, at least with us, you could find something greater in life than..."

"Than chasing the love of a yaksha? Is that what you were going to say?" Your glare was as cold as ice. "I have no interest in this conversation."

"Listen to you; you're beginning to sound just like him," he retorted. "Hold off on your retorts for a moment, ojou-chan." He placed his utensils down. "Tell me, what would your plans be if you escaped with him?"

"Like I would tell you," you sneered.

"You've just proved my point. I can see right through you; you don't have any." Childe leaned forward and set his chin on his hand. He held a smile that was somewhere between teasing and cruel. You weren't intimidated and continued to hold his gaze. "Ojou-chan, I'll be honest. You'll die one way or another if you managed to escape, whether that be at the hands of the Fatui, or at the doing of the yaksha. As a matter of fact, we wouldn't be the ones to kill you; you're the one killing yourself. Death by a broken heart sounds more agonizing than what awaits you with us."

"You're not getting in my head."

"I'm not? Then why, ojou-chan, does internal conflict arise on your face when you look at him?"

"Maybe because I'm having a conversation with him in my head."

"You know what I think? I think deep down, you know I'm right. Part of you hates me for it, but the rest of you agrees with me. With us, you could have anything you want if you can take it. Be it fame, fear, glory, power, money. Even love could grow within the ranks if you so desired it."

"Is this some sort of weird courting ritual?" You bit back, but despite the hostility you portrayed to Childe, you were beginning to falter. "I don't care for any of that stuff."

"But what you want most is love, no? The yaksha can't give it to you; he's incapable of it. You can't deny that much." Childe refrained from grinning ear-to-ear as he watched the internal turmoil reach your expression. You had hidden your hands under the table, haven't blinked in the past two minutes, and kept shifting in your seat. Oh, how he's gotten under your skin. He loved watching you squirm. "Don't misunderstand me, ojou-chan. I'm not trying to insinuate love between us; that ship has sailed. I'm simply looking out for your wellbeing."

You gripped the butter knife that was sitting next to your plate, flipping it over as you thought of the possibility of being able to one-shot him from here. His lips curled upward slightly as if he knew what you were thinking. Then, you placed the utensil back down and let out a long irritated sigh. "Your words are falling on deaf ears, Tartaglia. I'm going back to my cell now."

On the contrary, I think you've heard me loud and clear, ojou-chan.

............................................

The second you were shoved back into your cell, the tears began to fall. Xiao watched you for a moment before gesturing for you to sit next to him, but you ignored him and sat in the far corner of the room. You had glanced up at him once, noticing the tears that were also falling from his cheeks and thinking he was actually crying. When you remembered it was just a side effect and that the tears manifested involuntarily, you reburied your face in your knees.

"Are you okay?" Xiao sat so he was facing you, but didn't come any closer to the walls. He hastily wiped your tears away from his face. What a nuisance. Can't emotions manifest themselves in a more convenient way?

"Just peachy," you sniffled without raising your head.

As if I could ever join the Fatui! He's diluted for thinking something so stupid, for thinking I'm anything like him! You wanted to scream and punch the wall from how frustrated you were. How dare he try and twist me around like that! The tears continued to spill and soak into your jeans as helplessness and hatred washed over you like the tide. Xiao, why...?

The yaksha perked up when he heard you. "What?"

Why can't I be free of human emotions, just as you are? Why must I be burdened with them?

...................................................

Two more days passed, but the two of you were never taken to the arena. Apparently the Tsaritsa had other temporary plans that required the presence of the harbingers for the time being. So, when the time finally came for you and Xiao to be escorted out of the cell once again, you were surprised to see what looked like rookie guards instead of the usual seasoned agents.

Their rookie-ness was primarily given away by the fumbling of the keys before the cell door unlocked. Then it was painfully obvious that these three guards were idiots by the way they swung the door open enough that it effectively gave Xiao an opening out of the sealed box. The two of you exchanged shocked glances before Xiao bolted through the door, his lance manifesting in time to pierce through the first guard and pin him to the opposing wall outside the hallway.

It was an outright slaughter.

Before you even had the chance to get to your feet, the yaksha was already retracting his polearm from the third guard's torso that lay on the floor. The heavy metallic stench of blood made your stomach riot and you averted your eyes to keep the nausea under control.

"A-Are we really doing this? Are we really making our escape?" Your hands were shaking from the adrenaline as well as an emotion you recognized to be fear.

Zhongli...was it really a coincidence that I heard you last night, and now the guard schedules are mixed up? Xiao furrowed his brows as his eyes danced over the bloody corpses. "Let's move."

"Okay..." You carefully avoided slipping on the soaked floor and followed Xiao. He was surprisingly familiar with the hallways considering he had been blindfolded whenever he was outside the cell. "How do you know this place so well?"

"Sight is not the only thing we are gifted," he answered as he peeked down a corridor. "This way."

Several Fatui agents and skirmishers turned the corner as if they had been intentionally sent. There was no way they could have heard the ruckus from up here. Xiao waved a hand over his face, and his mask manifested with ease. A demonic aura emanated around him, visibly blackening the immediate area around his body. The new sight sent a chill down your spine. "Stay out of my way."

You followed his order and ran back the way you came, using the corner as cover. He first burst into the cryo skirmisher, who was practically first in line for a quick death. The polearm sliced across his torso, then Xiao shoved it through his heart. The second the blade was ripped out of flesh, geo and pyro skirmishers surrounded him.

"LAMENT!" Xiao leapt into the air and dove into the ground with his spear. The shockwave of his anemo burst sent spears of air ricocheting into the skirmishers. They struggled to their feet after the devastating blow, and more Fatui agents filtered into the hallway. Xiao performed another series of plunging attacks until no one but him was moving. He jerked his head to the side and his mask evaporated. "Come."

You didn't have time to drool over how hot that was--"Ah, wait, Xiao. That's the throne room up ahead--"

If my intuition is correct...The yaksha burst through the doors despite your warning.

"Xiao--! H-huh?" You ran after him only to run into his back. You peeked over his shoulder to see why he stopped in his tracks. "What's going on?"

No one was in the throne room save for the most important players of this story. The Tsaritsa, who was standing in front of her throne; Childe, her beloved war hammer; Signora and Scaramouche, who stood off to the side as mere observers; Zhongli, with his arms crossed and eyes blazing with fury; and Aether, who held a firm look of determination. The atmosphere was tense, even as they all turned their heads to the sound of the doors crashing open.

"I've massacred every last one of your agents," Xiao seethed at the cryo archon as the two of you approached the group. "Our suffering is no longer."

"Xiao," Zhongli nodded, relief washing over him when he confirmed the two of you were okay.

"Thank the archons," Aether ran over and hugged you. "I'm sorry we took so long." He hid his surprise at how thin you were.

"You were saying, Morax?" The Tsaritsa refocused everyone's attention, and you and Xiao stood at Zhongli's side. The room seemed to inhabit a colder atmosphere than the first time you visited. She could've cared less that you and Xiao killed her men.

"You've broken our contract," the archon clenched his jaw, but remained as composed as ever. "Thou shall not interfere with Liyue or the adepti."

The Tsaritsa's gaze flicked to the two of you. "Oh, is that so? I told you I'd do anything necessary to accomplish my goal."

"Those who break the contract will suffer the wrath of the rock. We have every nation on our side; the people of Teyvat are more than willing to wage war against you for your trespasses if you refuse to return the two of them."

"You think that's going to intimidate me?" The Tsaritsa let out a frigid chuckle at the thought. "Oh, Morax. You really are more brawn than brains. Alright, I will return the yaksha to you." She nudged her head at Xiao.

"And her." Zhongli pointed to you.

"Ha!" Another full laugh arose from the archon's lips. "Have you already forgotten the terms of your own contract? Liyue and adepti alone are to be untouched. She is neither."

"You can't do that!" Aether shouted, grabbing the hilt of his sword.

"Then I'm afraid we'll have to wage war because of your refusal." Zhongli hardened his gaze as he continued to stare at the Tsaritsa. You peered up at him only to realize that he was completely serious.

He wants to wage a world war for my sake? You sent a nervous glance to Xiao, and he didn't appear to have a problem with his superior's proposition. Neither did Aether. Your wavering eyes came to a rest on an amused Childe, who stood across from you. But...this bloodshed...would be my fault...

"Relax, Morax. Her test trials are already over; we have what we need." Your eyes lifted to the Tsaritsa. "She won't be put through such harsh treatment again."

"Then why do you want to keep her? Just let her go!" Aether continued to glare daggers. To watch his friend be taken away by a god just as Lumine had...he never wanted to feel the same pain again. The walls appeared to close in on him as he watched the same events repeat before his very eyes.

"She'll be an excellent addition to our ranks. I seek to recruit her; she will aid us in commencing trials for the hosts of the adeptal enhancements." Xiao shifted so that you were mostly hidden behind him. "She will be treated with great care as long as she cooperates."

"She will be part of no such thing," Xiao and Zhongli jinxed one another.

You couldn't pull your gaze away from Childe; it was like the two of you came to some sort of weird understanding of one another in this moment. You were right, your eyes widened at him. This bloodshed for my sake...I can't let them go through with this.

"You can't fight without your gnosis, Morax. Your threats do not concern me."

I told you, ojou-chan. Out there, you cannot live, the harbinger seemed to say with his eyes.

We'll be on the run if we took off right now. We'll be hiding every day for the rest of our lives. If the war actually happens instead of an escape, all these people will die for one measly girl. Their blood will be on my hands, on Xiao's hands--And then there's the matter of my unrequited feelings...I can't deal with any of this--The world seemed to spin around you, and you grimaced at the feeling.

"So be it," Zhongli materialized his polearm. Aether drew his sword.

Xiao tensed when he felt your despair and dread flow through him. He glanced over his shoulder to gage your wellbeing and was still just as confused as he tried to pinpoint your thoughts.

I can't...You gaze rose to meet your protector. For both our sakes...

Childe's grin widened when you stepped forward. "Stop this!" Your high-pitched cry interrupted the rising arguments between Aether, Zhongli, and the Tsaritsa. "All of you, stop!" When all eyes turned to you, you took a deep breath to stop the tears from forming. "I'll do it."

"WHAT?!"

"If she's willing to stay, your war is pointless," a thin smile spread across the cryo archon's lips. Then she addressed you directly. "A wise choice, young lady. You will be treated well now that you are choosing to participate."

You spun around when Xiao gripped your upper arm. "What do you think you're doing?" His voice was hushed, but there was something fierce both in his gaze and his grip on you. "There's no need to--"

Your arm left his grip, and you addressed Zhongli and Aether. "I can't let you guys wage war on my behalf whether it's a bluff or not. Whatever the outcome would be, it would end in thousands of pointless deaths. I can't let you guys do this."

"But they'll kill you!" Aether shook your shoulders, desperate to prevent another incident like his sister's. "Don't you understand what's happening?! You'll--"

"I'll be just fine on my own," you gave him a half-smile. "It's not like I'll be able to live peacefully if I escaped anyway. They'd always be on our tail. We'd never escape the danger of the Fatui." Xiao glared at Childe when he heard the regurgitation of the harbinger's words.

"...Are you sure you want this?" Zhongli observed you carefully. "Once you join the Fatui, there will be no escape."

"If it's to protect everyone, if it's to protect the three of you, I'm sure." You weren't aware of the tears that stained your face. You then turned your attention to Xiao, who stood back. "Listen, I-"

"I don't agree with this," he said plainly. "I told you there was no need to sacrifice yourself for anyone's sake. I told you to trust in us."

"Xiao." You threw your arms around him, feeling him flinch under your sudden touch before hesitantly placing his hands at your sides. I can't stand around and let innocents get hurt, just as you can't do the same. His eyes widened as he quietly listened to your prayer. You pulled away slightly and brushed his bangs out of his face, hand cupping his cheek. A few of your tears were falling from his eyes as he looked into yours. You brought your forehead to his, intent on holding him for as long as he'd let you. You may never understand this, and that's okay, but I love you.

Xiao's breath caught in his throat and his grip around you tightened. His eyes wavered immensely, releasing more tears as he replayed your prayer in his mind. Only, a couple of those tears didn't belong to you; they were his own. "What're you..."

"Heh, you have no idea how hard it was to say that," you forced a laugh as more tears dripped down your cheeks, and you tore away from him completely.

Aether watched the two of you with utter confusion, while Zhongli observed you intently. It appears she has admitted her feelings. Xiao, will you follow suite? His gaze flicked expectantly to the yaksha, who was more than distraught and traumatized by the entire situation.

You didn't wait nor expect a reply. "I will aid you," you spun around and addressed the Tsaritsa, "but it will be under my terms. These three are to stay out of whatever you're scheming. Not a single hair on the tops of their heads is to be harmed."

"You have my word." The Tsaritsa thought it was adorable at how hard-headed you were. It reminded her of Childe, and also that of an ant. Such a small insignificant being that thought it held a significant place in this world. Absolutely adorable.

"You guys should leave," you lowered your voice as you turned back to the trio of your apparently-not-needed rescuers. "I'm sorry I've caused you all this trouble. Please know traveling with you three meant the world to me." The tears continued to fall even though you failed to acknowledge their presence.

"You're serious about this," Aether bit his lip to prevent himself from crying. "But your Granny...the village...the Lantern Rite--"

"I'll come back one day. That's a promise," your eyes met Xiao's. I swear to Rex Lapis, I will return.

The Tsaritsa watched you return to her after seeing your friends off. A disturbing smile spread across her lips as you forced yourself to kneel at her feet. "I believe you've earned this back." She held her hand out to reveal your vision, to which you slowly took it into your hands and stared at it with vacant eyes.

You felt nothing as you attached it to your belt loop.

#genshin x reader #xiao x reader #xiao genshin impact #genshin impact xiao #genshin impact #xiao fanfiction #fanfiction #writing

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charmingyong · 4 years ago

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Noxious Cherry (1)

Part 1 | Part 2

Genre: criminal!Taeyong x fem!reader

Warnings: psycho, deception, theft, shootings, swearing, car explosion

Word count: 2.7k

Plot: You found a pink haired man lying on the ground and decided to check up on him when you should have run away.

A/N: I AM OBSESSED WITH TY’S GTA! This genre reminds me of @taeyongtime’s Pre: Ace of Fools so do check that out if wanting another psycho read.

Gif: mine

- ❀ -

Finally home time!

The feeling of settling into your car after the end of your night shift was a pleasant one. You relaxed your head against the headrest and let the exhaustion from having to stand hours preparing the endless coffee orders leave your body before starting your car. You drove down the empty streets, a few nonfunctioning streetlamps creating a dim lighting along the sidewalks. Mindlessly, you passed by a park where a dark figure laid still on the ground.

Reaching a red light of an intersection, you thought back to the thing you caught a glimpse of earlier and something itched in you to go back and check it out. When the lights turned green, you made a U-turn and found the figure still there, unmoving.

Walking closer to it, you realized it was a boy with pink hair, eyes closed looking unconscious, though his chest rhythmically rose up and down. You squinted to get a better look of his face under the low lighting and did not spot a single scratch on the skin to hint any signs of him being injured.

Is he okay? you thought. Should I wake him up?

Worried that he could have been bruised under his clothes, you called for him. “Hello? Are you okay?”

Hearing your voice, his eyes fluttered open and his breath hitched upon seeing a beautiful face up close. You were relieved that he was alive, but grew uneasy when he merely stared at you, not responding back to you with words.

“Um, are you okay?” you asked again, hoping he would say something about why he was on the ground in the middle of the night.

He only groaned as he shifted his weight to sit upright, rolling his neck and shoulders in circles to alleviate the tensed muscles.

“Should I call the ambula-”

“Don’t,” he cut you off with a small glare. He couldn’t afford getting caught if he were taken to the hospital, especially when he didn’t even need to go there in the first place.

You bit your lip nervously, unsure what to do next. You didn’t want to be rude and leave him alone all of a sudden, but you really wanted to go home. Should you drop him home? Get a grip, Y/N! He was a stranger, and you couldn’t tell if he was safe enough to bring him inside your car. “But are you hurt?”

“It’s not that bad,” he replied. “Just take me home.”

Shit.

Looked like you were taking him into your car.

“Where do you live?” You hoped he didn’t live somewhere too far so you could get under the covers of your cozy blankets as soon as you could.

The boy cocked his head to the side and gazed at you in amusement. “Take me to your home.”

You were thankful it wasn’t summer just yet. Otherwise, mosquitoes would have entered your jaw-dropped mouth. Was he crazy? Why would anyone in their right mind ask to be taken to a complete stranger’s home? Especially one where you lived alone. “Why my home? Don’t you have one?”

He propped his upper body up with hands resting beside him, watching you with a dark glint in his eyes that you failed to notice. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

The boy was adamant and wouldn’t take no for a response, making you pray to the Lords that nothing bad would happen when taking home the pink haired whose name you learned was Taeyong.

Your keys repeatedly failed to connect with the lock of your house. It was hard to when Taeyong’s intense gaze was fixed on your side profile. “Sorry,” you nervously chuckled. “I’m really tired from work,” you tried reasoning.

After struggling for a while, he snatched the key from your grasp and unlocked the door, pushing it open and inviting himself in. You stay rooted by the entrance, shocked that Taeyong casually opened the door and simply walked in as if it were his house.

Taeyong looked around your place, interested to see the soft-hearted person you were with various photos of your loved ones hanging on the walls.

“Do you need the first aid kit?” you asked.

He touched himself in the stomach and hissed. “Yeah.”

You nodded and went to search for the kit in the bathroom. When out of his sight, Taeyong plopped down on the sofa, letting out a long exhale and half smiled. He found it new and amusing with someone being concerned for his well-being.

With the kit in your hand, you took a moment to calm down your racing heart. Taeyong was not letting you feel comfortable for a reason that you failed to decipher. You met your gaze in the mirror and told yourself that nothing bad should happen. How could a wounded boy harm a girl?

You walked back into the living room and were relieved to see Taeyong resting on the sofa with his eyes closed. If he wanted to harm you, then he wouldn’t be lounging around like that. “I brought it.”

He hummed and opened one eye. “You can leave it there and head for bed,” he said nodding towards the small table in front of him.

“Don’t you need any help though?” What if he had any wounds on his back that he couldn’t reach?

Taeyong clicked his tongue. “I’ll be fine.”

“I have a guest bedroom. You can sleep there,” you offered.

He shook his head. “I’m fine here.”

“But the sofa isn’t-”

“I’m fine.”

You bit back your tongue, letting him decide on his own what was best for him. It was odd that he wouldn’t opt for a bed to let his body relax and heal faster. “Okay, I’ll bring you a pillow and blanket then.”

“I don’t need them. That throw will be fine.” He pointed at one draped over the armchair.

Were you being too pushy? Why was this guy refusing everything that you were kindly offering? “Okay… I’ll head up then. G’night.” With that, you hurriedly went up to your refuge and finally called it a night.

Once the coast was clear, Taeyong pulled off his denim jacket and shirt over his head, observing his skin.

Flawless skin.

Not a single wound spotted.

You’re a cute one, he thought and smirked to himself.

- ❀ -

You took Taeyong out for shopping the next day, as per his so-called request. It was more of a demand. You didn’t understand why he was staying at your place but decided to keep your mouth shut and hoped that he’d leave you soon.

While you wandered around the cosmetics section, Taeyong left your side, his eyes catching interest of the sparkling diamonds department.

“Hello, sir. What would you like to see?” the woman behind the counter asked sweetly.

Taeyong paid no mind looking at her and locked his gaze on a specific 2 carat round eternity engagement ring in 14k white gold. “How much is that?” he pointed at the ring enclosed in the display case.

“Twenty-five thousand dollars, sir.”

Taeyong let out a whistle and propped his elbow on the casing. He turned around to search for you, finding you try on a couple of samples on your skin, and his lips curled up when seeing you pleased with the products.

The man not being by your side gave you some time to calm your heart down. You didn’t know why you felt that way with Taeyong when he hadn’t done anything to harm you. Something warned you from the inside to not trust him, even though he hadn’t done anything to invade your privacy at home. You were glad that he chose to sleep downstairs and so a part of you grew fond for him despite the short time.

Then what was this feeling that you probably made a grave mistake for helping him out last night?

You put away the product testers and searched for Taeyong, spotting the pink one easily as he leisurely passed by two security guards and picked out a pistol from its holder without them knowing.

“What the…” you breathed out. What was this guy going to do with a gun?

Taeyong made his way over to the fire alarm system and pulled it down. A loud, 3-beep pattern resonated throughout the store and numerous customers panicked, dashing out the building while the guards tried to figure out what was going on. The boy walked back to the diamonds where the employee was still there, frantically locking everything up before leaving for safety.

“Give me the ring,” Taeyong ordered. His blank expression made the woman not take him seriously and ignored him. Just when she was about to leave the counter, Taeyong held up the gun at her forehead and repeated. “Give me or I’ll shoot you.”

“B-But th-there’s a fire!” she cried. She didn’t want to die from the fire, or from the gunshot, or from her boss that she gave one of the most expensive rings away for free.

“There’s no fire. Quit wasting time or I’ll shoot.”

The guards caught up on the situation. “Hey you! Put that gun down or I’ll shoot you!” one said, while the other informed the situation through his walkie talkie.

Taeyong grabbed the woman in the blink of an eye, holding her as a shield with the gun pressed against her temple. “If you come near me, she dies.”

The guards backed away and held their hands up. “Okay okay! Let her go, man.”

I will, but after I get my ring, he thought.

He pulled the worker behind the counter, keeping her in front of him, and ordered her again. She obeyed, the fear of having to die from his gun scariest than any other consequence she’d have to face later. “D-Do you want the r-ring casing?”

“Just the damn ring.”

She handed it over with shaky hands. He shoved it inside the pocket of his jeans and shot the two guards down. The woman screamed and he pushed her away.

“Chill. I won’t kill you unless you get in my way.”

He sprinted to your rooted spot where you silently watched the scene unfold. Taeyong pulled you out of your shock self when he grabbed your hand and darted for the exit, letting your feet automatically respond to his action.

“Pass me the car key,” he instructed.

You didn’t want to, not when he shot two people in front of your eyes. But you chose to trust him than get caught now that you were technically his partner in crime. You both rushed to your car with him diving into the driver’s seat while you in the passenger. The police sirens could be heard from a distance and Taeyong wasted no time and slammed on the accelerator without putting on his seatbelt.

He went over the speed limit, overtaking the slower cars in the lanes as he tried to widen the gap between him and the flashing red and blue lights. A red traffic light was fast approaching, and cars were lined up ahead. But the boy made no plans to pull the brakes.

“You need to slow down!” you screamed.

The pink haired peeked at the rearview mirror, spotting the cops not too far behind them.

“Taeyong, stop!” Right before he could touch the stopped vehicles, he swerved the car abruptly to the empty lanes.

The lanes for the opposite direction.

You pulled at your hair, close to losing your sanity. “Are you fucking trying to kill us?”

The cops took a while to decide on the next course of action before following suit. He smirked, pleased with himself. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m good at this.”

Traffic was ongoing perpendicular to your direction and you were horrified with what the psycho was planning to do next. Without slowing the speed, Taeyong sped through the intersection once spotting an opening. Cars screeched to a stop and honked at the maniac driver.

This was a nightmare.

The very nightmare that the pink haired found thrilling.

Once on a street clear of any other vehicles besides yours and the police, you shouted, “I’m feeling fucking sick!”

“Hang in there. The show’s almost over.”

Wait…

What?

He checked the rearview again and the spacing was perfect. There were only two cars after them, making it easy for his plan to work.

Taeyong slammed the brakes and turned the steering wheel all the way, spinning the car 360 degrees. You screamed and held onto the handle tightly, shutting your eyes.

“Hold the wheel,” he said.

“What?”

He grabbed your hand and placed it on the steering wheel. “Hold it,” he directed. After you did, Taeyong pushed your head below the windows, clear from his aim. He lowered the glass barriers and shot at an incoming auto, aiming perfectly at the one in front of the other which resulted it to swerve out of control. This caused the one behind it to collide and flip over onto its roof. And not too long after-

BAAM!

It exploded into flames, ending the chase.

Taeyong stepped out of your new car and you followed, slamming the door shut angrily. “Why the fuck did you do that?” Your eyes moisten from the intense anger that built up inside.

He rounded the vehicle and stopped in front of you, alarming you when he suddenly grabbed your hand.

You tried to yank your hand free, but his grip was tight. “What the hell are you doing?”

His hand dug in his pocket for the stolen ring and slid it onto your ring finger. “I got this for you,” he spoke quietly while admiring the beauty that rested on your hand.

Your rage died for a moment, puzzled that he’d do such a thing to get you a ring. “Why?” Tears fell from its place and you wailed. “Why did you do it?” You never asked for any of this, from the theft to the shootings, to him even changing your car at a dealership who he was well acquainted with.

Taeyong shrugged coolly as if it was no big deal. “Just felt like it. I saw it and I wanted to get it for you. Usually I steal cars, so be honoured that I stole a beauty like that for you.” He winked at you and walked inside your house.

You took a moment to scream your frustration out, almost kicking the car before deciding against it. Walking in, you found the boy sprawled on the sofa, eyes closed.

“If you wanted to get me it, then you should have paid for it like a normal person would!”

He peeked at you through one eye. “Do you know how much that’s worth?”

It was a no brainer that it was expensive. But exactly how much… “No.”

“Twenty-five grand.”

Talk about getting all the wind knocked out of your lungs. That was nearly how much you’d make in a year and you were not going to wear it.

Especially when it was involved in a criminal act.

You ripped it off your finger and chucked it at him. He swiftly caught it as if he expected that reaction from you.

“Get the fuck out of my house! And don’t you dare show me your face again!”

Taeyong slowly sauntered to you, a predatory look in his eyes. You backed away from him trying to keep a distance until your backside met the wall. He trapped you in his arms, resting his hands on either sides of your face and wore a smug smile. “I can. But what will happen to you?”

You blinked and attempted to gulp down the ball forming at the back of your throat. “W-What do you mean?”

He lifted one hand off and showed you the ring. “They’ll be looking for this and footage from the security cameras will show that there was a boy and a girl that left together with the ring.”

Oh crap.

“I’m an expert at running away without getting caught, sweetheart. But if you don’t want to get caught, then you’ll have to keep me around. I’ll make sure both of us will be safe.” Taeyong leaned close to your ear, whispering with a hot breath that sent a shiver down your spine, “It’s my specialty.”

#nct #nct 127 #lee taeyong #nct taeyong #taeyong x reader #taeyong imagines #taeyong scenarios #taeyong fanfic #nct fanfic #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct x reader #charm

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justreadingfics · 5 years ago

Text

It’s a Deal (Chapter 5)

Chapter Summary: Movie nights are the best.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 4.8k

Warnings:+18 only, smut, boytoy!Bucky, fingering in a room with other people in it, blow job, oral (female receiving) casual sex, opened relationship,

A/N: I’m sorry it took me so long for this one. I can’t promise it won’t happen the same with next chapter, but I sure hope not. I previously said the next chapters would be less smut, but with these two you never know… Thank you to my sweet Les for having my back. The link to my masterlist, where you can find the other chapters, is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated.

Tag list for this story is closed.

Your breathing is heavy.

The silky slide of his tongue makes you moan, deep, and you dig your nails on his scalp, pulling his hair even harder. He groans and the vibrations hit your core. He was right the other day, you love grabbing his hair, especially when you’re on his bed and his head is between your legs first thing in the morning.

No, you haven’t slept there that night. It would be your first day in your new job position and you thought it would be best to have a good and uneventful night of sleep, free of any action that could keep you up. But the thing with good nights of sleep is they’re actually not as relaxing as Bucky Barnes’s sweet tongue and you decided you needed it before you started the day.

Good thing he lives where you work and he didn’t turn you down when you called him at that ungodly hour. That’s how you end up there, at the verge of a morning orgasm, your skirt and underwear tossed somewhere in his bedroom and you only wearing your heels and your white blouse while he’s eating you out on his bed, butt-naked, because that’s just how he sleeps every night.

“Oh, fucking shitballs,” you curse when he closes his lips around your clit. The throbbing little nub is swollen and aching for a release.

He chuckles against your sensitive and wet pussy, pulling you harder against his face, deepening his fingers on your thighs. Deeply focused on his task, he flattens his tongue and laps at you.

The change of movements doesn’t go unnoticed by you, who cries out at the waves of pleasure rushing up your body. A few more talented strokes of his tongue and you lose it. You moan a loud chant of courses and your back arches as your shivering legs shut around his head and your heels cross over his back.

That’s when a huge bang breaks into your dreamy state and makes you shout and jump on the bed, your face snapping towards the loud sound.

“I fucking knew it.”

Natasha’s voice isn’t one you were expecting to hear at that moment, and it takes you a moment to understand what is happening. There is your friend, in full tactical gear, arms smugly crossed in front of her body while she stands by the door she has just kicked opened. It takes you an even longer moment to remember the position you’re in. You look down to see Bucky, smirking, peeking at her from between your thighs, his face glistening with your juices all around it.

“What the hell?” You shout, finally releasing him from the clasp of your legs and pulling the first piece of fabric you find on his bed over your exposed lower half as you swiftly drag yourself away from him.

“Does Fury need me again?” Bucky asks, completely unbothered by Nat’s presence or his nakedness… or his extremely evident hard on, you notice, when he stands up from the spot he was bent down, before jumping to lay down beside you.

Something tells you this isn’t a one-time occurrence, but it doesn’t change the fact that is happening to you and how hot your cheeks are from sheer embarrassment in getting caught in such a situation.

“Nice hair, stud,” she comments, gaining a smug expression in response, before continuing, “He needs her, actually. Congratulations on your promotion, by the way,” Natasha smirks, pointing at you and your heart rushes up to beat against your throat at the mention of Fury’s name.

“What? Holy fuck,” you curse, wrapping the sheet around you before flying out of the bed and moving to pick up your pieces of clothes tossed by the floor.

“Told you she would be here, Steve,” Natasha tilts her head to behind her shoulder.

A low, strangled grunt comes from the living room.

That makes you halt at once as you bend down to pick your underwear. Incredibly widened eyes snap at Natasha. As your cheeks burn hotter than ever, she covers her mouth with the back of her hand, obviously holding back a mischievous laugh.

“Hey, Punk,” Bucky shouts from the bed.

“You should’ve seen his face at fucking, shitballs.” Nat bursts out in uncontained laughs, followed shortly by Bucky.

You can’t believe it. Captain Fucking America is waiting on the next room as you pick up your clothes after he heard the mind-blowing orgasm given by his friend to you on your first day on your new job - one that will require that you’d meet with the Avenger often - and you’re as mortified as you’d ever be. You know Nat enough to know she doesn’t mean any harm by it all, and you’ll know that eventually you will laugh with her about that moment, but eventually it’s definitely not now and she’s obviously having too much fun with your misery, so a little wish for vengeance burns up inside you.

“She told me you gave her the best orgasm of her life,” you blurt out, looking at Bucky, but the underwear in your hands at her. You bolt to the bathroom right after, locking the door behind you, but not before glimpsing the outraged expression on her face.

“You damn traitor,” Natasha yells, as you rush to put yourself together inside the bathroom.

“Well, looks like we’re a good pair,” you yell back.

“Calm down, ladies…” Bucky says and you can hear the amusement in his voice, as you work to freshen up, “Don’t worry, Steve would die before acknowledge this ever happened,” he raises his voice for you to hear, as an evident attempt to soothe you, but you can’t say it’s as effective as he would expect. “And you,” you guess he’s speaking to Natasha, “like I didn’t know that already. You were very vocal at the time and seemed like you’d forgotten I understand Russian perfectly.”

As put together as you can be in that situation, dying to bolt away and having Fury waiting for your ass, you open the bathroom’s door soon enough to see Nat flipping Bucky off as he cheekily winks at her.

“Ok.” You tap your hands down your skirt to straighten the little wrinkles on the fabric, “How do I look?” you ask Natasha. The formal outfit is way different from your usual jeans and sneakers, but it’s your first day in a very important position. Dress to impress felt like the right choice.

“Stunning.” The answer comes from both Nat and Bucky and you can only let yourself soften as they smile at each other, a clear sign of peace.

“Alright,” you nod, walking to grab your purse on the armchair next to his bed, “Ahm… thank you, Bucky,” you seriously don’t know what else you can say to him at that moment.

“Anytime, sweetheart, you know that,” he makes a reverence, before linking his hands behind his head with a very pleased tug on the corner of his lips.

You clear your throat, trying to not indulge him in a less than perfect circumstances, before turning to a too amused Natasha.

“See you tonight?” she asks, tilting her head.

“Yeah, of course,” you sigh, all the annoyance completely gone, “Welcome back, talk to you later.” You say goodbye by placing a kiss on her cheeks.

As you rush across the living room and towards the way out, Captain Fucking America looks absolutely guilty and red as the stripes on his uniform, “I told her not to, but-“

“I know,” you sure do know how determined Natasha Romanoff can be, “Can we please never talk about it again?”

“Gladly,” he quickly answers, looking as relieved as you before you bolt out of Bucky’s apartment.

~~~

His cell phone buzzes in his pocket and he picks it up as the elevator runs up to the common floor. He’s dying for one of Wanda’s cookies, which she usually bakes at this hour for everyone. Unlocking the screen he sees the text. It’s from Olivia, asking if he has plans for that night, with a winkie emoji at the end. Emojis… he loves them, one of the best things from the future.

He's about to type the answer when the elevator doors open and he hears the sound of a movie playing loudly in the TV room. Oh, so there’s one of those movie night things going… the cookies will definitely be there.

He quickly steps towards the sound and opens the door to the dark room, meeting a few squinting expressions at the light that shines from behind him. As soon as he finds one particular scrunched face among the other ones his lips curl in a smirk and, before putting his phone back in his pocket, he types a quick reply saying he’s already got plans, the same answer he’s given to every other message he’s received those last few weeks that wasn’t from the woman greeting him with a small and discreet smile right now.

“So soon at home?” Natasha asks, munching a mouthful of popcorn. Along with her in the room are Sam, seating next to her on one of the sofas, Steve and Sharon sharing an armchair and a bowl of popcorn, Wanda laying on some big cushions on the floor, eating one of her cookies while she, the face that got his attention and instant interest, is comfortably seating all by herself on a big and inviting sofa, cozily tucked under a blanket.

“Didn’t even go out,” Bucky shrugs, “Movie night, huh?” He peeks in, averting his gaze from her to the big screen, “And one of my favorite movies I see..” he says, having absolutely no idea which movie that is and why there’s a creepy guy talking to a ball in the middle of an island.

“In or out, dude,” Sam throws some popcorn on him, “Shut the damn door.”

“Alright, alright,” Bucky does as he says, not even engaging with Sam’s teasing. He has other things occupying his mind.

And said “other things” eyes him suspiciously as he walks towards the sofa she’s been occupying alone. He doesn’t say anything before throwing himself on the cushions, right next to her, despite all the space left. He can feel everyone’s eyes, maybe except Sam’s, lingering on him for a little too long, but it doesn’t bother him at all as he makes himself comfortable, reaching over to grab a cookie from the plate on the small table in front of him.

“Hi,” he whispers, turning to face her.

“Hi,” she answers back with a small smile, before focusing on the movie again.

“You don’t mind do you?” Bucky once again whispers, pulling the end of her blanket while he munches the cookie.

She eyes him for a moment and he has to hold back a laugh. She has to know where he’s going with this and if that time they’ve spent together because of their deal made him get to know her at least a bit, he bets she’ll play along with him.

“No?” her answer comes out on a wary whisper and he doesn’t waste a second before sinking beneath her blanket, dragging himself a bit closer to her.

When he’s cozy enough, he turns to the movie again, pretending to be paying attention to the screen while she does the same. He knows it’s all a façade and she’s waiting to find out what he’s up to. He loves it. It’s only after several minutes – teasing her is always good fun – that his hand under the blanket casually navigates through the cushions and rests on her thigh.

As soon as his hand touches her skin, he senses the flinch of her body. While he shoves the last piece of cookie in his mouth, with the corner of his eyes, he catches when she glances not at him, but at the rest of the group in the room. The fact she doesn’t bat his hand right away, encourages him to give her thigh a pointed squeeze and that’s when she shoots him a warning glare. Which he ignores, of course, in favor of letting his hand snake up her smooth skin. The small hitch of her breath doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

He smiles to find out she’s wearing a skirt.

When his hand moves down to the soft inner part of her thigh, she shuts her legs, trapping it in place. He doesn’t look at her while he just waits… all he has to do is to wait. He can tell she’s a bit nervous as he feels her eyes on him before they turn to the others, but a light and sweet scent, which is now very familiar, teases his nostrils, ever so lightly, and he knows she’s more than up to that little game. He hopes for the other super soldier in the room to be focused enough on his girl next to him so he doesn’t catch the faint scent in the air.

He waits.

The confirmation of her true disposition comes when she slowly opens her legs and shifts on the sofa, lifting one knee up so the blanket makes a tent, making it hard for anyone to spot where his hand really lays beneath the blanket.

Bucky is then more than happy to resume his ascend until he cups her mound through the cotton of her underwear. He keeps his touch light, barely brushing her mound, noticing a little wetness pulling at the fabric and smirking. But what makes him almost lose his shit is to find out how impatiently up to his game she actually is, when she dips her hand under the blanket and guides his hand beneath the cotton, letting his fingers rest on her clit before she removes her hand.

Goddamit, he has to hold back to not let a loud moan both at her initiative and the warm and smooth feeling on his fingers. He can’t believe how lucky he is to be spending this time and sharing moments like this with her. He has to admit that this deal he has set with her is the best thing that has happened to him in a while. Yes, he has a great deal of women he can call his friends and has been spending time with. But with her…

Bucky’s sure he has found his partner in crime.

He’s aware of the long time she’s been in a relationship and he knows the ending wasn’t that great. But in spite of that, she trusts him completely to make her feel good and not hurt her in any way, and he loves that he can do that… Make her feel good.

He starts caressing her clit, noticing how her body responds, a tiny hitch on her breathing, her lower lip between her teeth… He doesn’t want to make her wait much longer, seeing how eager she definitely is. Another thing he adores about her… she’s always up to go a bit further with him, to break some limits. He would never do anything she’s not comfortable with, but it’s addicting her willingness for more, to go beyond herself to reach the goal or finding pleasure and a good time.

Truly a partner in crime.

Her gaze remains on the screen while he fingers her under the blanket, but he can hear a particularly louder sigh as her head falls back on the sofa.

Bucky looks around but no one seems to have noticed anything, paying attention to whatever is happening in the movie. Discreetly, he grabs a small pillow from the sofa and places it over his lap to hide how much the mission to drive her to the edge and the wetness gathering around his fingers under the blanket are affecting him.

He has learned the way her body works enough to know she’s almost there. Also, he knows she has a thing for exposed and dangerous situations like that, the thrilling possibility of getting caught, the filthy actions in an otherwise innocent situation… Fuck if his cock isn’t aching for some attention, too…If had his way he would bent her over that couch and take her right then and there, to hell with everyone else.

Glancing at her, he spots the clenched jaw and fluttering eyelids. She comes all over his fingers without making a single noise and, damn, she turns him on so much.

After a few more strokes to ease her down, he pulls his fingers away and, as she watches him from the corner of her eyes, he brings them to his lips, licking them deliciously as he stares at the movie. Her sweet taste makes him painfully hard beneath his jeans and that’s when she surprises him by throwing the blanket to the side and swiftly getting up.

“Are you ok?” Nat asks as all the faces snap to the woman standing up.

“Yeah, sure. Just need to go to the bathroom. No need to pause the movie, I’ll be quick,” she answers, but she doesn’t leave the room without glancing at Bucky with a small tug on the corner of her lips.

His cock twitches at it… That’s his cue, right? It has to be, or else he’ll explode right then and there. He waits a few minutes for good measure before pulling his phone from the pocket. He pretends to be reading something on the screen before clicking his tongue, “Got to go. That was fun, though, let’s do it again sometime.”

Bucky’s damn sure Natasha not for a second buys the excuse as she shoots him a knowing smirk, but the others seem to at least don’t care about him leaving - suspiciously right after her- only mumbling their goodbyes as their attention remains in the movie.

When he opens the door to the bathroom, which is only a few feet away from the tv room, he’s greeted with a pair of lips crashing against his. Responding right away to the kiss, he kicks the door shut behind him and wraps his arms around her as he relishes the feel of her hands exploring his whole body, grabbing his muscles and flesh. Good, she’s as excited as him.

“That was fucking hot,” she says through the kiss, pulling a handful of his hair.

“Agreed,” he pants, not parting his lips from hers, “Check out how happy I was to find you here,” he grabs her hand and places it over his throbbing hard on.

She chuckles as he walks her backwards to the counter, “I’m glad I accepted Nat’s invitation to see a movie with her after dinner, then,” she pulls away just enough to say that before launching back on him, making him moan as she palms him through his jeans. “We need to do something about it, now,” she teases, parting her lips from his to drag them down his neck, adding a bit more of pressure on his cock.

“Damn straight,” he manages to say, as her mouth and her hands on him make him light in the head. Desperate to feel her, he grabs her by the waist and places her on the countertop and positions himself between her legs, reaching down to unbutton his jeans, “How was your first day as the boss?” Just the thought is enough to make his cock twitch inside the annoying confines of his pants.

“Fucking fantastic,” she answers putting a stopping hand on his chest and grabbing the one on his jeans by the pulse.

“Hey,” an embarrassing whine slips out of his lips.

“Nah-ah,” she smirks in such a mischievous way that the sight alone could result in him making a mess of his pants if he didn’t focus, “I’ve got my own tricks, too, you know?” she coos, pushing him a bit backwards before sliding down from the counter and sinking to her knees right in front of him.

Oh…

Since she just ended the possibility of any coherent thought to be formed on his mind, all there’s left for him is to let his arms fall limp on each side of his body and watch her, dumbfounded and horny as ever, as she nuzzless his dick through the jeans and swiftly work on his buttons and zipper.

His cock bobs in front of her as she pulls down his pants and underwear just enough to expose it to her. Bucky is entranced by the sight of her licking her lips before leaning over and slowly sliding her flattened tongue over the length of the prominent vein on the underside of his cock. Then his tip is engulfed by the wet and soft heat of her mouth and a strangled yet loud noise slips out of his lungs as his eyelids flutter.

“Be quiet, sweetheart,” she pulls back, making him already miss her lips around his dick. He looks down at her and she shoots a cheeky wink at him, wrapping her hand around the base and peppering sweet, torturous kisses over his length and head, smearing the leaking precum over her lips before wrapping them around him again.

Bucky is in a complete daze as she works her lips and tongue beautifully on him, producing sloppy and enticing sounds. Surprisingly enough, after trying a lot of stuff together, that particular act hadn’t happened yet and goddammit why the hell had he waited for so long? Maybe because he’s been focusing completely on her pleasure, which can’t be considered an unselfish act at all, since giving her pleasure is insanely hot, making him get off on that easily. But, man… that woman knows what she’s doing and it’s driving him completely nuts right now.

Especially as she keeps jerking him with her hand while her lips adventures down his sack. All he sees is the top of her head moving as she is shamelessly licking and sucking his balls, the slurping sounds of her mouth on him makes his cock jerk in her hand. Bucky can’t hold back the moans and his hands grip tightly the counter before him, the blood rushing away from his fingers with the force he uses.

Her lips come back to suck on his dick, hollowing her cheeks as her other hand grabs a handful of his butt. She squeezes the flesh harshly and grunts around his dick.

“Fuck,” Bucky lets out in a breathless whisper, barely holding together as the vibrations reverberates through his pulsing cock, wrapped in her heat. He’s not gonna last long, he knows that.

With a pop, she releases his cock from her mouth, but keeps her hand wrapped and moving up and down his length. Bucky would’ve protested if he could form one coherent word, “Bucky,” she purrs, brushing her cheek on his cock, as if she’s worshiping it. He feels himself tighter and tighter, rushing to the edge, and that sight is no help for him trying to hold back and prolong the little heaven he’s in, “I want you to fuck my mouth, Bucky.”

That’s it. He always knew that after more than one hundred years he would die in a situation like that, “What?” he breathes out and it sounds like a groan as he clenches his teeth.

“I want you to fuck my face and I want to taste you, all of you, understand?” Her words sound more like a command as she looks up at him and lazily fists his cock, coated in her saliva.

“Copy that, ma’am,” he quickly obeys, capturing his lower lip in a tight bite, “But if it’s too much you have to let me know, ok? Stop me, punch me in the stomach, if you have to.” As desperate as he is to do as she wants and fuck that pretty little face of hers, the last thing he wants is to hurt her in any way. But they’ve been pretty comfortable with each other to let the other know exactly what they want to do or not, so he doesn’t have to worry much about it.

She smirks and nods before brushing the tip of her tongue over the tip of his cock.

Fuck… she’s perfect.

More than happy to comply with her command, Bucky grips the hair on the back of her head as she invitingly opens her mouth to welcome him, letting her hands rest on her thighs.

He pushes back inside her. He goes slow at first, but goes deep, testing her limits. His breath hitches as he watches his cock disappearing inside her mouth, and oh, man… his head reaches her throat and he hears a strangled moan out of her as she chokes lightly on it…

He fucking loses it.

Bucky does exactly what she asked for and fucks her mouth, holding her face steady with one hand on her hair as with the other he grips the counter as he thrusts inside her, moving her head as he pleases, guiding himself by the muffled but sweet sounds she makes along with him. He goes deep, fast…

He locks eyes with her and sees the sheer lust on them as her swollen lips take his cock, saliva sliding down her chin, “Take that cock, sweetheart. You look fucking beautiful taking it like that.”

The fluttering of her eyes at his words is what takes him on the edge of his climax, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he warns, his voice a strange rasped sound in his ears, “You want that, don’t you? You want my fucking cum deep down your throat, right, beautiful?”

Her answer is to bring both hands to grip harshly his butt and pull him even deeper into her. The tightness coiling inside him is too much before he reaches the best damn orgasm of his life.

A dangerously loud grunt of him resounds around the small bathroom as he spills his climax deep down her mouth and throat, just like he’s promised. The world around him dissolves into the image of her swallowing around him, taking all of him. He’s body falls a bit forward and he has to tighten the hold on the counter as fingers tangle around her locks.

He remains under the effect of the powerful and insanely pleasurable sensation, the aftershocks jerking his body and turning his mind into a total blankness as she slowly and gently sucks and licks him clean, making little humming sounds that only add to his utter state of bliss.

When he feels his strength rushing back to his limbs again, he moves his hand from her hair and helps her up by the arm and without thinking twice slams his lips to hers.

Her inherent sweetness immediately mixes with his own taste, invading his senses and damn if he doesn’t wanna feel that again and again and again… He swirls his tongue around hers, loving how her arms curl around his neck, like they usually do when he kisses her.

Bucky doesn’t notice he’s been prolonging the kiss for maybe a little too long and maybe a little too intensely until she lets out a muffled giggle through his lips and taps lightly on his shoulder.

He parts away immediately, but doesn’t completely let her go, keeping her close by the waist, only then realizing how breathless he is. Both of them, actually as he notices how deep and fast the up and down of her chest is. But she’s smiling… and that alone makes Bucky smile, too.

She looks thoroughly fucked. Her hair is a complete mess, eyes a bit reddened and teary while her lips are swollen tinted in a darker shade and from taking his cock that hard. He simply can’t move his gaze away while she holds the smile, looking… content…happy…

Right there, just like that, completely undone and disheveled, she’s the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

He’s not even thinking straight yet when he reaches over and cups her cheek. Spotting a drop of his own pleasure that slipped from the corner of her mouth, he swipes it with his thumb and brings it to her lips, entranced by the way she welcomes it right away, swirling her tongue around his finger before sucking it inside her mouth while her eyes are stuck on his.

His heart skips a beat at the sight. There’s an urge rising in him. A whole new kind of urge he hasn’t ever felt before and he can’t pinpoint exactly what that desperate need is for while she lets go of his thumb before placing a kiss on it and moves her back to him, to face the mirror and put herself together, depriving his arms from her warmth.

He just can’t take his eyes off of her and all he wants is to grab her back and hold her close to him, to feel her skin, smell the sweet scent of her shampoo, listen to her sweet voice in his ears telling him all about her day while she softly runs her fingers through his hair…

Wait… he forces himself to interrupt his own weird line of thoughts.

What the hell is happening?

~~~

Chapter 6 coming soon.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes series #marvel fanfiction

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nypmphetsbastard · 4 years ago

Text

They Both Die in the End (ch.2)

Chatter filled the makeshift cafeteria as everybody had just now began returning from their long hours of hard labor. The port finally completed meaning everyone had to start preparing for the arrival of more enemy and new comrades. Chatter filled the makeshift cafeteria as everybody had just now began returning from their long hours of hard labor. The port finally completed meaning everyone had to start preparing for the arrival of more enemy and new comrades.

You leaned against the table and munched on some bread as you listened to Sasha talk. Despite your current situation, you couldn’t help but live in the present while everyone else worried of the future. Maybe this is why you preferred Sasha’s company more than anybody else’s.

The young brunette never liked stressing herself out thinking of the future, said it would give her gray hairs early — she lived in the present and made the best out of any situation that was thrown her way. Her presence felt like a breath of fresh air to those around her, it was no surprise Sasha has so many friends. Hell, even Floch likes Sasha and he doesn’t like anybody.

“And then he tried to take my meat so I-” Sasha was cut off by Armin’s voice called both of your names from afar, he jogged over in a state of stress.

”Have you seen Eren?” He spoke aloud but you knew the question was more directed to you considering the two of you almost never left each other’s side.

“Um no. The last time I saw him, Hange and the others were taking him back to his cell for the night.” Armin sighed.

”Yeah he was, but Commander Hange said he asked to stop for a second to take a piss and when they looked back he was gone.” Armin explained, running his hand through his hair. You sighed and gave your unfinished reread to Sasha who gladly took it.

”I’ll help you look.”

It wasn’t uncommon for Eren to run off sometimes. Frankly, it happened whenever he got stressed and didn’t feel like being smothered anymore. He never went far, never went somewhere completely off the grid, but always somewhere he knew you and only you would find him. Today being an example of that.

Legs burning from all the walking, you finally reached the rocky shore where you saw a distant body swimming in the water. Muttering an annoyed “what the hell?” under your breath, you walked closer to the shore.

Stepping up to the elongated rocks that acted as a deck, you make out your brown haired boyfriend bobbing up and down in the water until he finally noticed you. His eyes lit up as a smile stretched onto his face and he pulled himself out of the water, wasting no time in running towards you with open arms.

Making a playfully disgusted face, you curled into yourself and Eren threw himself onto you and wrapped his arms around you. You groaned and he squeezed you tightly.

”Gross, you’re all wet.” You playfully complained, he didn’t say anything and instead pulled away, holding you by your shoulders. “Why did you run?”

He shrugged, “I didn’t run.” You gave him a pointed look, ”I merely got distracted by a butterfly and casually walked away from their line of sight.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah well it’s still considered running, Eren.” You placed your hands on his chest, “What are you doing here, anyways? It’s already dark.”

“Just wanted to take a little swim.” He grabbed your hand on his chest and lead you towards the edge of the rocks where he let go of your hand and jumped in.

“Since when do you know how to swim?” You giggled, Eren’s head emerged from the water and placed his head between your thighs with his arms folded on the side of your thighs.

“Since now, of course.” Smiling cheekily, Eren placed a kiss on each side of your thigh.

“Haven’t you heard the stories of this place?”

“What stories?”

“Apparently, many years ago there were these two Eldians who had escaped the walls, lovers. They left before night fall meaning it was simple enough to get through Titans as they were beginning to slow down without the sunlight. And when they finally reached the ocean, they thought they made it...but then came an abnormal. Adam, the man he was grabbed by the Titan and told Lilith, the woman to run away into the sea and leave him behind. But it was useless and after devouring the love of her life the abnormal came after her in the water. And as the Titan held her in his hand, mouth stained with the blood of her lover, Lilith vowed that any lovers lucky enough to reach the sea and swim in it would be cursed, as her and her lover were.”

Silence came between you as you finished the tale until Eren finally spoke up

“Oh darling,” he leaned up to your lips, “we’ve always been cursed.” Just as his lips met yours, his arms wrapped around your back and yanked you into the water with him.

Ice cold water prickled your skin sharply as you two fell in, Eren still holding onto you while you flailed around. Letting go of the breath you were holding underwater, you slapped Eren shoulder once you reached the surface.

“You asshole!” He laughed aloud at your anger and threw his head back, “It’s not funny, Eren. I can’t even swim!” You exclaimed.

“Oh I can tell, you’re squeezing me like I’m about to drop you!” Eren laughed, referencing your legs that were tightly wrapped around his waist and your arms that followed.

“Or will I?” He joked, pretending to let go of your legs to which you screeched and held his shoulders tightly, nearly drowning him yourself.

The boy was still in tears at your reactions, mouth wide open giving you the perfect opportunity to splash water into it. He quickly stopped laughed and coughed harshly at the salty taste in his mouth.

”Not so funny when it’s happening to you, huh?” You chuckled, after his coughing feat he joined in on your laugher and began pushing himself around in the water, sending you into another state of panic.

“Ow, stop scratching me.“ Eren complained, your nails digging into his shoulders

”Then stop moving!”

“How else are you supposed to learn how to swim, my love!” He laughed, “Here, I’ll help you.” Ignoring your refusals, Eren pried your legs off of his waist and let them float in the water.

“Okay now start kicking.” He instructed, you gave up and listened for once.

“Ah, good girl,” Eren pried your hand off his shoulders next and held your hands at an arms length away.

You let out a breath, trying to freak out and you kicked your legs like Eren instructed and swim together. Eren continued to praise you as you got the hang of it more and more, a genuine smile splayed across his cheeks as he watched you.

“You see? Told you it’s not that hard.” He encouraged

”Yeah right, the only reason I’m still afloat is because you’re still holding my hands.” You scoffed.

”Oh yeah? What if I was drowning?” You rolled your eyes at his hypothetical

”Pfft, you’re on your own for that one cause I am not saving you.”

Eren raised an eyebrow, “We’ll see about that.” Were his final words before he let go of your hands and went underwater.

You gasped and tried to reach out for him which didn’t work as he floated downward. You kicked and splashed around, trying your best to stay afloat and alive.

”Eren? Eren?! Eren, stop it’s not funny anymore!” You splashed around to try to get his attention but after another couple seconds of silence you began to panic.

“Eren? ....Stop it, the jokes over I get it...” you looked around you, only got find yourself completely and utterly alone. Slowing down your panicked breathing, you sucked in a deep breath and stopped kicking around, letting yourself fall slowly under the water.

The sharp stinging of the salty water hit your eyes when you opened them, trying your best to find the brunette. After a couple double takes, the sight of a slow falling body caught your eye and you immediately swam towards it. A wave of fear ran through you when you finally caught up to his body, his eyes closed and his lips not their usual pink color—he looked kind of...dead.

Wrapping your arms around his waist as he once did early on, you pushed his body higher up to the ocean top, knowing you wouldn’t be able to carry him the whole way yourself without you drowning too. You repeated this process until the moonlight was visible under the water and you finally pulled his up, his body weight falling onto you.

Multiple curses escaped your lips and adrenaline pumped through your veins, not even feeling the burning in your lungs or the tears in your eyes until you finally reached the rocky sand and dropped Eren’s body onto it. You coughed and started chest compressions.

”What the hell, you crazy bastard?! Jean was right, you’re a suicidal fucking maniac!” You cried, switching between pushing your interlocked hands up and down on his chest and blowing your own oxygen into his lungs.

“I swear to Ymir fucking Fritz, I will kill you if you die on me, Eren Yeager!”

Your arms stung, your knees bled, and your head was getting lighter and lighter, not even hearing the distant voice of Armin who called out to you. It didn’t matter how much it hurt, it didn’t matter if you had to rip all the air out of your lungs for him, none of it mattered until he was safe.

You were always that kind of person. The person who’d take all the breath out of their lungs for others. A lover, a friend, an elder, a child, a stranger or a foe, all human life was precious. Violence never solved the problems of today, Marleyans killed Eldians centuries ago until they themselves were slaughtered and the roles were reversed. For even more centuries Eldians tortured Marleyans, constantly reminding them of what their ancestors had done long before them, and now, again the cycle continues.

Push up

Push down

Replace his breath with yours

Push up

Push down

Replace his breath with yours

Push up

Push down

Replace his breath with yours

Push up

Push down

Replace her breath with yours

Push up

Push down

Replace her breath with yours

Push up

Push down

Replace her breath with yours

Hers? Her breath. The breath that was slowly fading more and more. Armin’s voice calling out to you in the distance. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. You had to save her. You’ve done it before, why isn’t it working now? Why did they all stop?

Why didn’t it work?

Armin called out to once last time, placing his hand on your shoulder, “Hey...that’s enough. She’s gone.”

You pushed his hand off your shoulder and shook your head, “No...no, she’s not...she-....Sasha...” you whimpered and went limp in Armin’s arms, the blonde carefully holding your head and shoulders against his chest as you both cried together.

Questions were all that filled your thoughts. Why did this happen? Why was Sasha the target? She was innocent, she was kind and beautiful and everybody loves her, why did this happen? Who did this?

Well, who did it was already an answered question. Yes, the simple answer would be the child but, it wasn’t her fault. She didn’t pull the trigger unprovoked and she most certainly wouldn’t be here if the scouts never invaded Marley. And the reason the scouts in invaded Marley was because of....

”Eren...” you pulled away from Armin’s hug and stomped over the back of the airship where Connie had just finished breaking the news.

You maneuvered around him, ignoring everybody else in your way as your hand impulsively raised and lowered, meeting the side of Eren Yeager’s face. A sharp stinging sensation on your palm snapping you out of your adrenaline high, and it all came crashing down.

“You killed her! She was my best friend and now she’s dead! All because of you! She didn’t want to come here, I didn’t want to come here but we did. Because of you!” You shouted.

As much as Levi personally loved throwing Eren around himself, he couldn’t stand you being the one to do it, knowing you’d feel the highest of regret later on. He stepped in, trapping your arms under his as you flailed around trying to get out of his grip.

Anyone who knew the two of you was more than a little shocked at the sight. Hell, even Zeke, who had only heard of you through his brother’s adoring words was shocked. The way Eren spoke of you, even he knew that this outburst was one nobody was expecting.

By that point, you had already given fighting against an Ackerman and fell limp in Levi’s arms. Although awkward, Levi knew he couldn’t leave you in such a vulnerable state at the moment.

The ride back home felt like years. Years of avoiding the back room in fear of seeing Sasha’s cold and lifeless corpse laying there, unmoving. Mikasa let you lay on her lap and cry your eyes out, not caring who was listening to you and never judging you for it either. She had lost her best friend too, but she knew she wasn’t alone in this.

Sasha was everyone’s best friend.

Even Eren’s.

And no matter how cold and distant he seemed, he would always make room in his heart for Sasha. She was...odd, a strong soldier and an amazing asset to the scouts, it didn’t help that she was one of the only people who could make him laugh. It was nice, hearing her and Connie crack jokes that were funny because they weren’t, seeing her make Mikasa and Armin smile, and especially seeing how good of a friend she was to you.

He knew after every argument or every interaction you and him had would immediately be brought to the attention of Sasha and Mikasa. Sometimes, through the cracks of the stone in his cell, he would hear the three of you giggling and whispering about boys.

Through the cracks of the stone in his cell Eren stared. He knew what he had to do in order to protect the people he loved, and to do that he had to distance himself as much as possible from them. Starting with Hange.

They cursed under their breath as they left the room, Eren’s chest clenched but he ignored it and sat on the uncomfortable bed given to him. He didn’t hate Hange. He never could. In fact, he held a high respect for them, but he knew if he needed people to turn away from him and his destructive behavior, he had to start with the one in charge.

Little did he know, you offered Hange some sleepy tea recommended by Levi and slipped into the basement where he was being held. The brown haired boy flinched and became defensive at the sound of keys jingling, getting ready to attack when necessary but relaxed when the warm colored light illuminated your face.

He sighed and looked away, “What are you doing here?” You gulped and unlocked in cell, closing the door behind you and standing over him. Eren didn’t look up from his seat on the bed, choosing to stare at concrete floor instead of your eyes that were filling with tears.

”I’m sorry.”

Eren shook his head, “For what?”

“I hit you. A-and I know I was upset about....but that’s not excuse. I shouldn’t have put my hands on you, no matter what.” Looking up at you, Eren noticed your eyes downcast trying to hide the tears streaming down your face.

He cursed himself mentally and stood up sharply. You gasped at the sudden movement and looked at him, not expecting him to yank you into a hug, his head in your neck. Immediately, you wrapped your arms around him and let go of the breath you were holding.

“You were right.” He spoke up

”What?”

”To hit me. You had every right to.” You tried to pull away to look him in the face but couldn’t escape his strong grip.

Ever since you all went to Marley, Eren had been acting different. Even before Sasha’s death, his eyes seemed duller, darker, he didn’t seem to care about the innocent lives he took. He barley even looked you in the eye despite not seeing each other for months.

“What? No, why would you say that? You would never put your hands on me so I shouldn’t have either, where is this coming from?” You questioned

“I saw it. I saw her die.” Eren mumbled, finally letting you pulled away. ”When I got in control of my Titan more, I saw it. I saw the future, I saw Sasha die and I thought I could stop it but...” You didn’t waste any time in sitting Eren down once more and wrapping your arms around him, letting him lean on your chest.

Millions of thoughts were running through your head but all you cared about was making sure he was okay. And considering everything you had all found out in the past 4 years, it wasn’t as surprising to find out he could see into the future.

For those little moments of silence, you ran your hands through his, now long brown hair and let him relax. There wasn’t any time for Eren to “relax” recently sand there wasn’t much you could do to help him considering you never knew what was going through his head, but for those few minutes were all he needed.

All he needed to act selfishly.

Eren suddenly pulled away from you and held your face in his large hands, “Do you trust me?”

“Huh?”

”Do. You. Trust. Me?” He repeated sharply

”Yes? Yes, of course I do.” You reassured him and maybe even yourself.

”After tonight you can hate me forever, or you can follow me forever, it’s your choice. But I won’t stay here.” He said, you shook your head, trying to figure out what he was trying to say.

”W-What? Eren, don’t tell me...”

Eren took a deep breath and leaned in, pressing his lips into yours as if it’d be the last time he would.

“I’m sorry...”

”Wha-“

With a sharp sting on your neck, your words were paused as Eren punched a thin syringe into your neck. You opened your mouth to speak but the artificial melatonin pumped through your veins quicker than you could think, finally taking a toll and allowing you to fall limos in Eren’s arms. Not catching the single tear that fell from his left eye.

When you awoke, keys and yelling filled your ears before your sight did. As your eyes fluttered open, you found Commander Hange standing over you in both fear and anger, calling your name.

”Cadet! Where did he go?! Where did Eren go? Did you let him out? Did he escape? How did you get in?” All sorts of questions were thrown your way.

But nothing could shake the stake in your heart at the hands of Eren Yeager. Though...this won’t be the last time you’d be feeling that.

#eren jeager x reader #eren smut #eren yeager #snk eren #snk season 4 #zeke yeager #levi ackerman #mikasa ackerman #hange zoë #hange x reader #attack on titan #aot final season

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

Text

Painted Windows 17

Masterlist

Warnings: violence, trauma, allusions to abuse, noncon, isolation, torture, suicide attempts and thoughts, further tags to be added.

This is dark!Bucky and a side of Steve and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Freedom is a relevant concept.

Note: Well...

<3 Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3 Let me know your thoughts.

As you neared the city, you felt your heart bloom. You watched the pedestrians, the buildings, the other cars. It was as if it was the first time you’d ever seen civilization in practice. Joggers, couples walking their dogs, others in suits with their urgent steps, and the slovenly in hoodies and frayed jackets. It was all surreal. So distant and so close. Just on the other side of that window.

“Where are we going?” You asked suddenly. “Your place? Can’t Bucky find us there?”

“No, not my place,” Steve said flatly. “Just… trust me.”

“Shouldn’t we go far away?” You fidgeted, restless as reality set in. You were on the run from the most dangerous man you’d ever known. “Hide, somewhere.”

“I know a place,” Steve assured you as he looked out across the traffic. “Dor, it’s alright now.”

You tapped your fingertips along your bottom lip. You stared out the window. The sky dulled as the afternoon wore out. It would be dark soon. The night would make the city more sinister. Already, the romantic glow began to fade. You noticed the steaming sewers and the litter on the curb.

“Steve,” you whispered as he turned a corner.

He didn’t say anything, even as you called his name a second time. You squeezed the bag still in your lap and felt a hard shape inside. You loosened the drawstring and pulled out the notebook. Your journal. He reached over and pushed it down until it was flush against the rucksack.

“Dora,” he turned into an alley, barely clearing the reeking dumpster.

“Wait,” the breath went out of you. You glanced up at the boxy concrete buildings. The shadows were familiar, the way the wind tunnel between the walls. “You…”

“Put it away, Dor,” he said.

He stopped at the dead end of the alley and the engine settled and stopped. He sighed and grabbed the notebook from you. Then he snatched the bag and tossed it in the backseat, the journal pressed to the wheel.

“Please, don’t do this. Not again.” You begged as you grabbed the handle and the doors clicked. “You can’t. You were supposed to save me.”

“Save you?” He shook his head and snorted. He opened his door and heaved himself out of his seat, slamming the metal shut behind him. He rounded to your side and pulled open your door. “Get out.”

“No,” you said, “No. No, you can’t make me.”

“Dor,” he growled and placed the notebook atop the car roof, “Come on!”

He bent over you as you flailed out at him and screamed. “Help! Help! Somebody--”

He clamped his hand over your mouth and unbuckled your seatbelt with his other hand. He grabbed the back of your neck and jolted you out onto your feet. You grunted and tried to stomp his toes as he thrust you ahead of him. He looped his thick arm around your neck and squeezed.

“Walk,” he ordered as his bicep threatened to crush your throat. “Now.” He scooped up the notebook and kicked the car door shut. He pushed you along the alley and turned you at a metal door. “Open it.” He snarled.

“Steve, Steve,” you kicked out against the door and tried to shove him back with all your weight. “Let me go! I’ll die down there! You don’t understand, I can’t-- Not again, not again.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he tightened his arm around you, “But don’t think I won’t.”

He pushed down the handle with your journal and hooked a finger through it and forced the door open. He pushed you inside as you continued to lash out. You knew these walls, knew the dimpled concrete and the dark stains. You knew the stagnant smell and the tepid air that grew cooler as you neared the top of the stairs.

“How did you know?” You gasped as he kicked open the heavy door at the top of the steps. “How--”

“Don’t make me throw you down. It’ll hurt but you’ll survive.” He wrenched you off your feet and you clawed at the narrow walls as he pressed onward.

Not much had changed since your time there. That round table where they sat, smoked, gambled, and plotted remained. The chairs were broken and bullet casings were scattered on the floor, their scars marked the walls. He took you to that hallway, that long hallway, and you cried out again.

“It’s best for you, Dora.” He said, “You gave us no choice.”

You twisted and writhed. He dropped the journal and nearly lost his grip on you and snaked his arm around your waist. He walked backwards as he dragged you along the stone.

As you reached that door, you dug your nails into his hand but he didn’t even flinch. He flung you inside and pulled closed the bars. You threw yourself against them, the mechanism held. You looked down at it and hit it with your fist. It had been fixed. You gripped the bars and shook them.

“Steve!”

“Steve,” another voice echoed you evenly.

Bucky came up next to Steve, the duffel slung over his shoulder and your notebook in hand. He slapped the cover and shook his hand as he neared. His jaw twitched and squared as he clenched. His blue eyes pierced you.

“Bucky… Bucky, please,” you reached out, “Why? Don’t leave me here. Please, you can’t--”

“You said it yourself, sugar,” he looked down as he fluttered through the pages. He looked to Steve and nodded. “I have to break you.”

Steve swung the heavy outer door and it clanged into place. The small cell blackened entirely. You barely withdrew your hand before it was crushed. You staggered back and pressed the heels of your hands to your eyes.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could you think that you could ever be saved? That anyone could ever love you?

The cot was still there. You didn’t lay on it though. You couldn’t. You just sat on the floor and waited. For what… for the same torture that always came down there. You didn’t cry. At times, you felt as if you would, but the tears didn’t come. You sat, numb yet terrified. It was a grim sort of acceptance because you thought you’d come to terms with it years ago.

You woke from bouts of shallow sleep against the wall. Your back was stiff and tight. You had no way to count the hours. Time didn’t exist down there. It never had.

The door opened once. You didn’t look as a bottle of water was slipped between the bars and some pre-packaged bullshit. You drank the water but ignored the food.

Waiting, waiting, waiting…

Dreading, dreading, dreading…

When the door shifted a second time, you stayed as you had been. Keys jingled and the hinges whined. The sealed container was kicked aside and the bars were jolted back into place. You tried to ignore the figure as the light flickered on. Another shadow loomed in the hall, looking in at the other.

“Get her up.” Bucky ordered. “Strip her.”

“No!” You slapped away Steve’s hand as he reached for you. “No!”

He batted you back and grabbed your arms. He jerked you to your feet. He pulled at the top of your jacket until the zipper split and clawed at his arms. He ignored your struggles, barely flinching as he tore the hem of your shirt up. He struggled as you latched onto the tee but he ripped it away with a hard yank.

He spun you and threw you so that you fell against the cot. Before you could turn around, he gripped the top of your jeans and pulled them down, taking your panties with them. He struggled with your shoes and bunched them up in the denim with your socks. He passed each piece of your clothing through the bars as you curled up on the cot as you tried to cover yourself.

“You like Steve?” Bucky asked. “He told me you said you love him.” He snickered darkly then hit the bars hard. “You’re supposed to love me!”

You quivered and stared at your knuckles, your arms wrapped around your knees. “I hate you. Both of you.”

“Oh? You hate him now?” Bucky challenged. “Steve, go on.”

Steve approached the cot again. You cowered and bent your head as you sat with your knees bent and hugged your legs close. He grabbed your wrist and twisted it back until you cried out.

“Steve, please,” you pleaded, “Please. Don’t hurt me. Don’t hurt your Dora.”

“Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be,” he uttered as he took your other wrist.

“Don’t talk to her,” Bucky snapped. “You know what to do.”

You cried out as you wrestled with Steve. He held your wrists apart and forced you down onto your back. You kept your legs bent as he climbed onto the cot, his knees on the thin mattress. He let go of your arms and pulled on your knees. He was overwhelmingly strong. He parted your legs as your muscles strained and screamed against his strength.

You flung your arms out as he moved between your legs. He unbuttoned his fly and you kicked around him. You shook your head and pushed on his thighs. He bent over you, his thick arm across your chest and you peered up into his eyes desperately.

‘Please,’ you mouthed to him.

His blue eyes didn’t waver as he stared down at you. He prodded your entrance and you winced as he entered you in a single motion. His hot breath tickled you and you closed your eyes as he thrust atop you. Your fingers curled into his shoulders and you grasped at the cotton of his shirt.

He grabbed your chin as you tried to turn your head. He pressed his lips to yours and groaned. You choked on a whimper. You wouldn’t let him hear your pain.

“What’s the matter, sugar?” Bucky taunted from the hallway, “I thought you loved him.”

You opened your mouth and quickly bit down on Steve’s lip. He pulled away and grunted. “The fuck?” He touched his bloody mouth, “She bit me.”

“Give it to her harder,” Bucky growled.

Steve muttered and snapped his hips up into yours. The teeth of his zipper hit your tender flesh and rubbed coarsely against your folds. You hissed but held in the cries that threatened to overflow. He crushed you beneath his weight as the scent of his sweat seeped into your nostrils. His head fell down beside yours as he began to pant.

“In her mouth,” Bucky demanded, “Like they did.” He inhaled, “Isn’t that right, sugar?”

You covered your face and Steve sat back. He shuddered and pulled out of you. The cot moved as he stood and he came up along the side. He wrenched your hand from your face and stroked himself over you. His fingers slid down to your jaw and he pushed his thumb against your lips until you opened your mouth.

He held your mouth open as he slipped his tip just past your lips. He finished himself with a long groan and hot ribbons covered your tongue and trickled down your throat. He released you and swore as he backed away.

He stretched his neck as he sighed and fixed his pants, zipping them up as he approached the bars. You spat his cum onto the floor and coughed as you wiped your lips. You felt like puking but you merely turned your face down and hid.

“Oh, sugar, you can end this,” Bucky said as he unlocked the door. You listened as Steve stepped out into the hall, “I only ever wanted to give you what you need. I still do, sugar. You just have to ask.”

There was a pause. You didn’t move. Bucky tisked and the door closed loudly, then the other, the metal echoing against the concrete walls. You shivered as the light went out. Their footsteps faded away and you turned to face the wall.

You knew what Bucky wanted. How long before you gave it to him?

-----

I know that was a rough chapter, so please, take care of yourself and stay safe.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #painted windows #mcu #marvel #au #captain america #winter soldier

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