#and found immense relief once he put it all down and stopped blaming himself for “failing” | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rodeoxqueen · 3 years

Text

AWAS

CHAPTER ONE: BE NOT AFRAID

“Dante and Vergil return from Hell to tie up loose ends from their year-long absence. While they seek a sense of normalcy, the fates send them anything but.”

Contents: Violence, Blood and Gore, Brotherly Banter, Explicit Language, Slight Angst

Rodeo’s Two Pieces:

I'm very excited to show y'all what I have been working on since hell, November of 2020. Thank you kindly for sticking around.

Back to the present, where the world turned on its axis for months without the weight of the blood of Sparda upon itself, the tides had changed.

In the midnight, had the stars laid witness to the damn near impossible. A portal had opened from the underworld, and two brothers stumbled out. Clutching their swords, Dante and Vergil reunited with the human realm.

How long had it been? Of endless violence and humorous quips thrown at the other, as the years of the gnashing of teeth smoothened the rough patches of their disjointed childhoods?

“We’re back, Verg.” Dante chuckled, arm over his brother’s shoulder.

“We are.” Vergil echoed. The obnoxious weight fell off of him and landed on the ground with a thud.

Dante had got on his knees and kissed the earth that they now stood on.

“Don’t be a fool,” Vergil said, staring at the moon. After years of wanting to become one with Hell, he tilted the false king’s crown to admire the clear sky.

Dante rolled to the ground, sighing in relief.

“We’re back.” He repeated. His brother nudged him with the Yamato.

“Get up. We must find our way back.” Eyes closed and a grin across his face, Dante let the wind pass through his bloodied and matted hair.

“Now we sound like a real team.” Vergil scoffed.

After a few moments, Dante got back up. They had arrived back from Hell to a cliffside overlooking a city that was not Redgrave.

“I assume you have unfinished business in Redgrave.” Dante nodded.

“I sure do.”

The portal became a forgotten relic, the Sparda brothers nowhere to be seen, their demonic presence known to the world.

Dante was known for many things, but mainly for how much of a constant he had remained in everyone’s lives. Never changing, staying the same as he was, an unstoppable force of sarcastic expression.

And also a huge manchild.

Vergil rubbed his temples in frustration.

“Dante. When I referred to unfinished business, I was clearly referring to your shop.”

“Yeah? And I was referring to this.” Dante bit into another slice of pizza, practically moaning.

Vergil sat ramrod straight, sitting awkwardly in a pizzeria. The two were the elephants in the room, both slathered in demonic gore and toting swords. People either gawked or left the establishment.

“You are still an idiot after all this time.”

“Yeah, and I’m also still hungry.”

“Surely your business is more important than this.”

“Meh.”

The blue devil waited for him to finish an hour later, the long-held bill lengthening after months of his absence.

Of course, he had to have indulged a few pieces of his own. It was nothing like the gaminess of demon flesh he had forced himself to sustain upon. It was almost melting in his mouth, unlike the resistance of the shank of a demon. He was never one for vegetables as a child, Dante even more so. Yet the crunch of the toppings was well-received to Vergil, deprived of basic human sustenance for a few odd decades.

However, he found it unthinkable Dante would continue to indulge himself in this for as long as he did.

The door reopened and closed once more to reveal the broad daylight of the streets. Clean, pristine, the sounds of cars and people filled in the crisp air.

Vergil’s boots walked upon a paved road for the first time in ages, man-made and unassuming concrete with stubborn weeds growing from the crevices. No mouth-having crimson blooms that grew to a man’s height. Just simple creatures that fell softly to his weight on their fragile stems.

He had never been here before, where Dante claimed to be his home.

“What’s after this for you, Vergil?” Dante asked his brother, swiping a few demons out of his way.

Vergil, also in his triggered form, huffed a dismissive sigh.

“You know, you should stay with me. Devil May Cry’s always got a spare couch to crash on.”

“Why would I do that?” He slashed a horned devil in two, spewed in putrid green blood. Dante chuckled, knowing there was hesitance in his voice.

“Because I’m offering, big brother. When’s the last time you’ve had a place to call home?”

“I believe you know the answer to that question.” Vergil slid onto his knees under a crouching demon, disemboweling it from top-down. A final gunshot rang his ears, a noise he had to get used to with Dante’s reliance on firearms.

Dull thuds and a flash of red, Dante stood above his brother, offering a now-human hand.

The horde was cleared away like dust on a counter, gone with the wind. Vergil and Dante stood in silence, two children again.

The younger pulled his brother up, insistent stubbornness in his eyes.

“I didn’t hear a no to my offer, Vergil.” Vergil sighed, releasing his hold of his brother’s hand.

“You did not hear a yes either.” Dante chuckled, following his already-leaving brother.

From the past to the present, Vergil’s answer had been neither, never spoken of what he was to do after everything. Yet here he was, now the latter of the two when it came to guidance.

There were many ways the two could have made their entrance to Devil May Cry and have it be a smooth transition back from months of Hell. Dante kicking down the door with a loud “I’m back baby!” was simply not one of them.

Vergil saw that a familiar dark-haired woman was sitting on the desk, absent-mindedly waiting for Trish to return. A girl who once blamed him for her father’s corruption, now a woman with no heed to his presence.

Lady had dropped her nail file, eyes wide at the sight of the two brothers.

“Dante,” Lady whispered as if she was greeting a ghost.

“Yep, it’s me. In the flesh.”

“Dante…”

“Did you miss me? Love what you did to the place.” Dante commented at the cleaned-up shop.

Her face of still confusion warped into anger.

“Dante!”

“Oh boy.”

The next thing he knows, Vergil watches his brother get lectured like a dog. Standing up yet with the attitude of a man in a fetal position, Dante let himself become used to the sound of their tirades once more.

“You had the audacity to give the deed to Morrison. Crazy bitches?! Really!” Dante shrugged.

“I mean if I barked up your tree all day you’d be calling me a-”

“Hey, Lady.” Trish walked into the shop, icily glancing at the two brothers.

“Look at what the hellhound dragged in.” Lady pointed to Dante and Vergil.

“Oh please, I could smell them from a mile away.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Hell doesn’t have any spas. Shame we couldn’t freshen ourselves up before coming here.” Dante sassed. Trish gave a pointed look.

“As much as it was nice to do some hot girl things, we could put Dumb and Dumber to good work.”

“What are you talking about?”

Lady gave a toothy smile.

“How do you think we got this place managed? Money. Money that you now owe us.”

“Hey! I never said you had to do anything.”

“You’d be real upset if we didn’t do anything either, Dante.”

Finally, after sitting through an eternity of harsh words and steep bills, Dante had more than ever landed himself in shambles. Again. At least he was liberated to take a shower. After Vergil of course.

He was surprised to find that the water was still running, and even more elated that it was hot water. Man, maybe paying the bills was a good thing. It felt like ages of grime and gore had been swept off his skin, his hair finally a familiar stark white. In the steam of the bathroom, he breathed out relief.

When he stepped out, he was surprised to see Vergil laying on his bed completely asleep. Usually uptight and composed, Vergil curled in on himself wearing some of Dante’s clean sweatpants that caught dust from all the months they were gone.

With a smile on his face, Dante chose the couch for once and didn’t complain.

They all deserved rest, Dante taking his nap with a magazine on his face. Future Dante could deal with this.

He never expected there to be any neater ends than the frayed knots he left in his human affairs. Yet, he wasn’t alone this time. Neither of them was.

The next few days, Dante gave his nephew a call. Well, more like Nero called him and Dante finally picked up.

Vergil had gotten up after days of practical unconsciousness, foreign to the comfort of a bed, a place to stay, yet much obliged to remain where he laid.

He came down the stairs, rubbing his eyes still. Dante’s voice was muffled until he was in the same room, Dante speaking through the phone to his son.

“Hey, your old man’s here.” Vergil shook his head, having no interest to answer, yet Dante kept waving the phone in his face.

Taking the phone, Vergil heard his son take a breath.

“Hey, Vergil. Nice to see you back from Hell. Um, can’t imagine that was a fun time.” Nero said, unknowing of how to speak to his stranger of a father.

“Indeed.” Dante face-palmed, sitting with another one of his accursed magazines.

“Yeah, um. I have your book.”

“Hmm.” Nero sighed.

“Do you want it back? I’m coming over soon for business reasons.” A hint of desperation and embarrassment from Nero went over Vergil’s bedhead.

“That would suffice…”

“Alright-”

“Thank you, Nero.” Vergil blurted, seeing Dante mouth the words “say thank you.”

Nero stopped for a minute, a few moments of silence on Vergil’s side.

“No problem...Vergil. I got to go. Take care, alright?” Vergil hmmed as a response. The line went dead.

Dante’s grin immensely irritated Vergil, a man who was incapable of second-hand embarrassment.

“Stop that. Wipe that expression off your face. You wanted a conversation with me and Nero, there you have it.”

Dante propped his face up with his hand, a cat that ate the canary.

“Nah.”

Vergil growled in annoyance.

Unfortunately for Dante, and luckily for Vergil, bills had to be paid and jobs to be done. Morrison had arrived a few days later, pleased to see an old friend returned from the underworld. Walking in, he was barely surprised that the shop had returned to a pig-sty appearance.

“Morrison! Nice to see you again.” Dante welcomed, sitting at his desk. Vergil eyed the unfamiliar man, reading through a book.

“Got a new job for you boys. About time you got those girls off your backs about having your little vacation in Hell.” A familiar smell of cigar smoke traced the air, Dante leaning back on his chair, intrigued.

“So Morrison, what nasty demonic critters does this gig entail?” Dante asked, arms crossed.

“There’s a demon runnin’ around towns, causing a lot of trouble.” Morrison placed a photo down, blurred and poorly taken. Although, the grotesque purple skin and rippling eyes on its body didn’t leave much to admire.

“Huh,” Dante mumbled. Vergil examined the picture.

“I’ve never seen a demon like this before. Sure is ugly, though.” Dante noted, pointing at a flat and angular head, pallid yellow eyes that bulge out of its sockets on the sides, and needle-like teeth in multitudes.

“My sources say it’s been going North, the last town they passed was here. Just this morning. It’s making some distance, I’d get to it as soon as you can.” Morrison revealed a map, a red circle around a certain landmark.

“It’s scaring the shit out of people and causing some casualties to be contained.”

“Alright, we’ll take ‘em.” Dante stuck his hand out, expecting cash. Morrison tutted, patting Dante’s shoulder.

“You’ve been spoiled, Dante. Nah, you’re gonna bag this son of a bitch and then we can talk about payment.”

Dante groaned, taking the job. Morrison tipped his hat to Vergil. Vergil glared in return.

“It’s been nice catching up with you boys.” He called out, leaving the shop.

The door thudded as it shut, and the two were alone once more.

“Well, we just got our get-out-of-jail card. Come on, let’s get going.” Dante grunted.

“Must you complain about everything?” Vergil muttered.

Outside, it was late morning with a slight breeze. The familiar sounds of a motorcycle came to Vergil’s attention.

Dante had sat on Cavalier, expecting Vergil to get on.

“Must you rely on that garish thing?”

“It’s too bad you can’t fucking teleport somewhere you’ve never been. Get on the motorcycle.”

Dante patted the seat, Vergil obeying for once.

“Ready for your first job?”

“More than you are.”

They tore through the streets of Redgrave, going north.

The sun rose and started to fall, endless roads leading through towns and cities that paid them only a slight turn of their heads.

The map’s glaring red bullseye had become a dead-end of sorts, the two resorting to walking instead.

Redgrave had always felt muggy with the air of hell creatures around. Here, in this unmarked territory, it had felt clearer. But also more unsettling, the idea of a demon scuttling about more of an awful surprise.

They felt consumed by the empty streets, busted in windows, and vacated shops and residential places in their lonesome wandering.

Something before had wiped this location clean of humans, and now something else was lingering in its place.

“This area has been abandoned.” Vergil walked over giant cracks through the ground, leading to a deserted town.

“Not surprised,” Dante answered, thinking about a certain tree, “good thing we don’t have to deal with any more civilians.”

A buzz in his blood reminded Dante that something was certainly there. The alleys were a perfect spot for creatures to linger, waiting for prey.

As below, so above. A ringing through the air was quickly parried by steel. Dante’s sword stopped a shower of needles from stabbing him, a stray one cutting the side of his cheek. It jolted him as a creature bounded the rooftops of the buildings, a hulking mass of reptilian skin.

Vergil raced after the creature, having blocked all the assailant’s long-distance attacks. Claws dug through the tiles, running on all fours from rooftops to silently treading the paved roads.

It’s clearly after an objective.

Dante chased after the beast from the ground, firing shots at the agile demon. Vergil jumped buildings, gritting his teeth at the demon’s inherent ability to evade and attack back, dodging tail spikes.

The streets all lead to the town center, where a fountain long cleaved in two from giant roots, stood.

Dante and Vergil came across the demon, purple skin stretched over its pointed bones, facing a cloaked individual.

“Hey, pal-” Dante was shushed by Vergil, the two standing a distance away from the hunched-over beast, much taller than either of them when standing on its hind legs.

Neither of them had expected another person in this area, clearly an oddity in the shambles of civilization.

“Famulus. Servant of Raphael.” A rumbling growl echoed in the night in response.

“I’m obliged, filthy halfling.” It hissed, crouched over and leaning to leer to the monotonous voice.

“You will tell me where he is.”

“His brothers may have underestimated you, but my master has known of your presence. Sending his best, I, to exterminate you.”

The person said nothing, as all that was all that needed to be said.

“Looks like we found it’s been searching for,” Dante mentioned, alerting the attention of the formidable monster and unassuming humanoid.

Glazed-over eyes narrowed with bloodlust met the twins as they readied themselves for anything.

“I will bring Raphael the heads of Sparda, once I am done with you.”

The hooded stranger turned their head to the two. With their face void of any expression, the twins had no idea what to think of them.

A pulse went through the air, Dante and Vergil’s skin jolting at a sudden warm wave in the air. Milliseconds after, a rotating ring of golden energy rattled through the stones, passing through the spaces in the pavement that lead to Dante’s boots.

Vergil and Dante were thrown like ragdolls meters away by an unseen force, Dante hitting the ground twice and rolling to a stop as Vergil stuck a landing with the Yamato through the floor.

A golden sphere surrounded the bruise-colored demon and the humanoid, who cocked their head in a disinterested manner, glaring at the taller creature.

Dante touched the wall before them, warm and pulsing with life. Despite the magnitude, he noted how it didn’t seem to hurt him, only pushing back from his own applied pressure.

Vergil paid it no mind, conflict occurring right before their eyes.

Famulus lunged at the smaller person who dodged, hands grappling at a giant maw, throwing its body to the barrier.

Tail spikes unfurled and bristling, Famulus’ hackles rose.

On hind legs, the demon stood well-over the miscreant, who allowed the beast to come to them. No matter how fast Famulus struck, claws phased through the empty air where it expected pliant flesh. Even swipes of its giant tail between quick strikes and heavy blows had been easily dodged.

A rain shower of blade-like projectiles flew at them, their body dropping down to avoid several. Dozens stuck above where their head was, a near fatality.

A needle whistled as it was caught by a calloused hand, palm tightly wrapped around the quill aiming for their chest. Several had torn through their cloak, nearly pinning them to the ground. They let out a startled noise, moving themselves up.

Famulus ran at them, prepared to rip them apart while they were down. Surely a cowardly move than preferred, but a move nonetheless.

They whipped their head around, jaw gritted. The same clutched quill was thrown like a javelin straight into Famulus’ snout.

Pulsating pain and white-hot agony made the beast screech, purple flesh burnt and smoking.

They shook themselves free of any spikes, clad in ancient robes. Nothing a common human would wear now. Even a demon could tell something was off about this one creature in human skin.

This was no common miscreant come to place vengeance upon its master. Raphael had requested Famulus to obliterate this insect as if none of his lord’s underlings could defeat them.

You shall return them to their grave, Famulus. A low gravelly voice rang through the demon’s head, a present message. The snake-like eye in the middle of its forehead rolled back and returned when its master��s command became silent.

“Yes, I shall.”

The foe stiffened as if they had gotten the answer they had been looking for. Famulus knew that. And like the devil it was, it goaded their curiosity.

“You will never make it to my master’s domain. I will gnaw on your bones, putrid being.”

If only if Famulus knew that there was no goading a foe that was already plotting several paces ahead.

Lashing out, a meter-long arrow-like appendage was fired at them once more while the demon began to collect its true power from the air around it.

It missed the mark, sinking into the ground to have the intended target land upon the blunt end, balancing coyly. Several more jabbed at the barrier, sticking into the protective sphere as the cloaked being ducked and turned to avoid scythe-like claws and disemboweling long-distance attacks. Famulus struck a blow that surely meant death, supposedly cornering the prey, until they vanished in thin air. A hazy afterimage materialized and faded away, swiped into nothing.

Immediately, they appeared to the side of the demon, who just began to rear its head to perceive this teleportation.

Legs bent as they were parallel to the ground, they drop-kicked the reptilian brute, scaly skin rippling at the impact.

Famulus’s neck snapped the wrong way, letting out a moist creaking noise as the body stayed stubbornly rooted to the ground. Incapacitated, it could not stop the smaller fighter from leaping onto a begotten tail spike from the ceiling of the barrier, yanking it, and falling back down to its capitulum.

The hooked and jagged arrowhead bit through toughened flesh, securing them to the flat of its head, glowing hand pressing against the middle eye, the key to finding Raphael.

A once distinguished demon, Famulus lashed its head about like a common beast. The joints in its neck realigned, sickening crunches with each segment joined.

Pushing their energy into the convulsing eye, Famulus felt its connection to its lord become not of its own.

Paralyzed from the sensation of a pulling force, tugging away at flesh, and seeping their own life force into it, digging into its mind, Famulus’ muscles twitched and convulsed like an animal to be dissected.

Famulus snarled to itself.

The veins leading to the spike stuck in its head pulsed, conducting electricity straight to the open palm. A strained cry left their mouth as they relented their hold.

The final twist of its head thrashed them off to hit the ground.

Flashing images of a lair, of an iron throne, flashed through its mind.

Famulus had failed to hide his master’s location. And with that, its murderous intent grew.

Despite the finality of its fate, its tail swished with anger and boiling rage to either do the job or keel over in defeat.

The thief got up with little grace again.

Its many eyes had noticed the bloodstains within their cloaked form, old wounds from recent battles. There wasn’t much damage left for them to take.

No one could dodge the Mjölnir.

Dante felt the hairs on his arms stand at full attention. Brows crossed, the older Sparda swiped through bits of his hair that lilted up from their slicked-back position.

“Hey, do you feel that-”

A beam of dark lightning was emitted from Famulus’s tail, striking straight into the opponent’s chest, shards of pure energy slicing through the air with a symphony of cracks rattling the street. Several pebbles flitted off the earth, scorching hot.

The lightning was overpowering, the cries of the stricken muted, body curling to itself with arms stiffening at the chest.

Dante and Vergil both believed defeat was imminent, preparing to have to take out the demon themselves.

When the flashes of demonic power died down, Famulus had witnessed the impossible.

Even with the golden shroud having been faltered, the thunderstruck figure had not been smitten.

Famulus’s needle-tooth grin dropped at the turn of events, rearing back on all fours.

Black lightning danced off their skin, flickering yellow sparks onto the cobblestones.

“No one of that stature could be capable of such an atrocity, and still be human.” Vergil thought to himself.

Famulus was the strongest of the Pessulum litter, demons that nursed from the deadliest of storms to emerge the top of their species. The demon had killed bigger and stronger with less than it had exhibited today.

And now, this runt of a creature had stood against it with no fear, not even close to death? Taking its strongest attack with no problem?

A rush of fear chilled its electrified veins. Stories of the being, whispers amongst Raphael’s underlings, its master’s own grinding teeth at the news of his brothers and their sudden falling, proven true by the might of this mysterious being.

Famulus would live with no merit to his name, scorned by Raphael, seen as less by its inferiors.

“If that does not kill you then I will!” Famulus jumped, claws extended like scythes to slice flesh to ribbons.

Clumsily taking one step forward, tense arms fought back to form one hand pointing to the snout of the devil, the other to the skies.

The thunder was released from its subjugation, deafening annihilation.

A blinding beam of sheer gilden lightning shot right into the demon, many opaque eyes centering at the color of death. Through the other hand, thunderbolts went off like firecrackers into the atmosphere, exploding rapidly and chaotically.

“Holy shit,” Dante exclaimed, sparks dancing off the paved path and flittering in the air.

Vergil ground his heels to the ground, the frontward force of the explosion pushing against him.

The blow sank into purpled flesh, veins and nerves turned from putrid black to nearly white, keeping the demon trapped in the air, still positioned to pounce and disembowel. Famulus didn’t even make any noise, the renowned servant burned alive.

Seethingly hot, with the very air molecules shaking at the display, the twins watched skin and bone become ash and dust. Killed by one’s trump card.

Not even a fallen tail spike was left, the aftershocks settling the twice-over-cremated remains scattering to the wind.

The redirection of the lightning strike had taken a toll on the hooded figure, who straightened up shakily, face revealed for all to see.

A pair of eyes were two suns in the dead of night, a contrast to the light blue ones that perceived them.

Standing alone, centered by destroyed store windows and melted streetlights, they seemed impassive to their might. It was as if they weren’t just blasted with lightning, where their fabric was scorched the only evidence of the offense.

Dante and Vergil didn’t know what to do, not knowing if this person would attack them as well.

They stayed where they were, the moon right above their head, shining around their crown of messy hair.

“Be not afraid.”

Voice hoarse, their mouth moved differently than to the words they just called out.

Before the twins could think of anything to say, the figure beyond them collapsed.

Vergil was silent, still processing all of this. Who was this person? What were they looking for? Who was Raphael?

Dante rushed forward, heavy footsteps raising ashes from their resting place.

Vergil followed, the Yamato ready to be unleashed at any hesitation.

Dante turned them over, noting the strange force surrounding them had remained. As if someone larger was there.

A human face from under the worn, textile cloak greeted them, exhausted and at peace with unconsciousness.

Two lines dripped down their face from their nose. Bleeding crimson, a human above all. In-and-out, slow breaths moved their chest just enough to know they were alive.

“A half-demon?” Vergil questioned himself.

“If they killed the demon, do we have to split the cash with them?” Dante blurted. Vergil raised an eyebrow at the inquiry.

Before he could retort, Dante had lifted them, their stature dwarfed in strong arms.

“Let’s ask them when they wake up.”

“Dante, you are not bringing that thing back.”

“You’re right. I’m not. You are. Open a portal.” He said with a shit-eating grin.

Vergil reluctantly did so, the Yamato ripping open the fabric of space. He would regret this, he was sure of it.

#dante and vergil finally arrive #vergil x reader #dante x reader #devil may cry #vergil sparda #dante sparda #nero sparda #lady devil may cry #dmc trish #devil may cry series #series #AWAS

68 notes · View notes

wkemeup · 4 years

Text

By Any Other Name (10)

series summary: When Special Agent Bucky Barnes is tasked with infiltrating the notorious gang Hydra and gathering evidence against its leader, Brock Rumlow, Bucky finds himself drawn to the woman who doesn’t seem to belong in this world of violence, the wife of the head of Hydra… you. pairing: bucky x reader chapter word count: 7k warnings: physical violence, a moment you’ve been waiting for 🌹series masterlist 🌹

This was not laying low. This was the exact fucking opposite of laying low.

Red powder covered the pavement, faint clouds of pink mist up in the air as Peter stood far away from the fallout, the sleeve of his sweatshirt pressed tight over his nose and mouth as he looked at Bucky with wide, fearful eyes. The cardboard packaging on the ground, a crack in the side from where it had leaked. It sat in the small pool of water inside a rather large pothole, fallen from Peter’s hands.

“I didn’t know who else to call,” Peter explained, words stumbling together under the muffle of his sleeve, the panic evident in his voice. He was pacing, glancing back at the powder on the ground, to Bucky, to the box in the puddle. “Brock is going to kill me. Oh God, he’s going to kill me and then Y/n and then probably you for helping and then he’s going to resurrect me and kill me again!”

“He’s not going to do any of that. Calm down, kid,” Bucky hushed, eyes still focused on the powder seeping into the pavement. It had rained just hours ago, the shine of the cement and rocks absorbing Hydra’s most coveted trade; Cerberus.

When Bucky looked up again, he found Peter had stopped pacing, his body completely rigid though his breaths were coming in short and rushed. He was scared.

Shit.

“Hey,” Bucky called carefully, gently putting a hand on Peter’s shoulder. He flinched under the touch, a jolt snapping through his small frame before his eyes met Bucky’s. With a careful breath, Bucky guided Peter’s sleeve away from his mouth. There was no need for that now. The mist had dissolved.

“I’ll take care of this,” he said sternly as he spotted the redness forming in the whites of Peter’s eyes. He sighed, making his voice softer, relaxing the tension in his own muscles. “You’re going to be okay, Peter. Take a breath for me. Can you do that?”

Peter nodded vigorously, jaw quivering, but he did as Bucky asked. The first breath came in shaken and shallow, like Bucky had seen in you the night your cousin was first dragged into this underworld. Peter tried again, gasping for a breath, though this time he got in more air. Bucky kept his hand on Peter’s shoulder, guiding him, exaggerating his own breaths to allow him to mimic the movement.

“Good,” Bucky soothed, squeezing at Peter’s shoulders until his heart rate started to go down. When his breaths were coming in evenly again, Bucky glanced back down the empty street in both directions. “Now, did anyone see you?”

“W-what?” Peter gaped, a little unfocused.

“Did anyone see you carrying that box?” Bucky asked again, slower this time, as patient as he could manage given the urgency. Peter shook his head. “Okay, that’s good. Where were you heading?”

“Mr. Pierce’s house.”

“What time is the meet up?”

Peter’s eyes widened, his breathing coming in too fast again. He made the mistake of looking at his watch. “Twenty minutes ago.”

“Okay, okay, kid. Hey, what did I tell you? I’m going to take care of this.” Bucky took a step back, but he kept a hand on Peter’s shoulder. The kid needed grounding and Bucky wouldn’t dare take that from him now. He had reason to be scared. Rumlow had ordered Bucky to beat men close to their last breath for far less than this.

This was nearly two bricks in the dirt. He’d bloodied a man for stealing half an ounce just a few months back. Bucky didn’t want to imagine what Rumlow would do to Peter for destroying two kilos of their most prized street drug.

“Alright, here’s what we’re going to do,” Bucky started to with a deep breath, “you’re going to go home--”

Peter started to shake his head like he might object but Bucky raised a finger at him, silencing him instantly.

“You're going to go home,” Bucky continued, firmer this time, “and you’re going to close all the blinds. Stay out of sight. I don’t care what you have to tell your aunt, but make it look like you’re not home. I’ll find a way to get Pierce his supply. I’ll—I’ll take it from the loading docks.” He was making it up as he went. Bucky never much cared for improvising. “The shipment should be here soon anyway. He’ll get what he needs. Was Pierce expecting you specifically?”

“No, I don’t—I don’t think so,” Peter replied quietly. He was wringing his hands, shifting nervously in his stance. “But, what about the supply you’re taking from the shipment? It’ll be missing.”

“It’s a risk, but I’ll see if I can blame it on a miscount.” Bucky was almost certain it would never work, but he needed to ease Peter’s conscious. The kid was about ten seconds from a panic attack again. “It’ll be fine, but I need you to get out of here, Peter. Let me fix this.”

Peter stood completely still; like ice and stone, firm as a statue.

“Peter,” Bucky urged again, giving a slight shove to the kid’s shoulder, “you need to go. Before anyone sees you. Go.”

Peter nodded, his eyes trailing back to the red powder on the ground dissolving to the pavement. Thousands of dollars’ worth of product. He took one last look at Bucky, the relief no more on his face than when Bucky had arrived. He turned to head back to Queens when he sucked in a sharp gasp, almost like a yelp as he flailed back hard into Bucky’s chest.

Bucky tried to stabilize him but the kid was shaking, scrambling to get his words out but they didn’t come in time.

“What do we have here?”

Adrenaline spiking, instincts taking over, Bucky shoved Peter behind him at the sound of Rumlow’s voice emerging from behind the shadows. He rarely made trips into the neighborhoods. He never should have been here, let alone in this part of town, and yet, there he was; decked in an expensive black suit and dark red Armani tie, accompanied by two of his guards.

Cold, dark eyes fell to the red powder soaking into the pavement. He brushed the toe of his wingtips against the evidence.

“Alexander Pierce has been calling me for the last ten minutes, screaming about his missing product,” Rumlow said casually, incredibly calm given the situation.

Bucky kept an arm behind him, shielding Peter.

Rumlow paced forward, hands clamped behind his back. “Alex is one of my top distributers in D.C., so it is important that he remains satisfied in our business partnership. I’m sure you can imagine my surprise when I get a call from the man, furious, that he never received his personal supply.”

Bucky remained silent. He felt Peter grip onto the back of his jacket.

“Now, I know you’re not going to make me stand here and look like a fool,” Rumlow taunted, kicking the wet, cardboard box lying in the pothole. It tipped on its side and a flood of damp, red powder seeped into the puddle, turning it pink. “Someone better start talking.”

He was staring right at Peter, tilting his head around to get a better view around Bucky’s shoulder. He had that kind of look on his face, one that Bucky had seen before in the eyes of cruel, malicious men before they committed atrocious acts of violence. Rumlow held no capacity for mercy or forgiveness.

With single wave, Rumlow gestured to his guards to advance on Bucky and Peter. As the tall, blonde guard with unsettling light green eyes stepped forward, Bucky took a step back, dragging Peter along with him. Peter would have fallen straight to the pavement if it wasn’t for his immensely tight grip on Bucky’s arm.

Rumlow raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“It was my fault, sir,” Bucky said firmly, desperate to get Rumlow’s stare off of the kid.

Blondie stilled, sharing a look with Rumlow who signaled for him to stand down. Peter’s hand yanked on the back of Bucky’s jacket, desperate pleas, silent questions as to what he was doing, but he ignored it.

“I found Parker while he was on his run to Pierce. Something looked off about the box and I asked to inspect it. A car horn blared and caught me off guard. I dropped it in the water.”

Rumlow pursed his lips, shaking his head with a tsk on his tongue. He didn’t believe a word out of Bucky’s mouth, but Rumlow was not a man who cared for justice. He wanted a punishment doled out, to see vengeance paid. He didn’t care who it was to and Bucky knew that. He just wanted an excuse to channel his anger into a victim.

“So, you’re saying you cost me $25,000 worth of product?” Rumlow challenged, staring Bucky dead in the eye. “Not the kid cowering behind you?”

Bucky nodded slowly, his teeth clenched so tightly it ached in his muscle. “Yes, sir. It was my mistake. Parker had nothing to do with it.”

“Okay then,” Rumlow said with a simple shrug and Peter seemed to relax behind him for a short moment. Bucky knew better than that. Within the same breath, Rumlow yanked a handgun from the back of his waist band, cocked the hammer and aimed it directly at Bucky. Peter gasped into the back of Bucky’s jacket.

“Time to take a fucking drive, Karpov.”

Bucky slowly raised his arms in surrender, stone cold in his expression, even breaths in his chest. He’d been in this position enough times in his years undercover to know what came next, to prepare for it, but Peter was a teenager, one who’d witnessed violence at the hand of a gun once before when his uncle was killed. He clutched onto Bucky’s jacket like it was a lifeline.

“Parker,” Bucky said quietly, not daring to tear his eyes from Rumlow, but Peter wasn’t hearing him. “Parker!”

Peter pulled away, stepping back a pace from Bucky, his eyes darting from the guards to Rumlow, back to his protector. His breaths were picking up again, his lower lip trembling.

“Go home, kid,” Bucky ordered as cold as his voice could manage. He needed him to make a run for it before Rumlow changed his mind, but Peter was staring at Bucky like he was waiting for him to do something, anything, to stop this. He was waiting for him to talk his way around what was about to happen or avoid whatever punishment Rumlow was brewing in his head, but there was nothing he could do. Bucky made his choice, followed through on his promise to the woman he’d give up everything for. He’d deal with the consequences.

But not before he could guarantee Peter was safe.

“Get the fuck out of here, Parker!”

The volume of his voice, the detached nature of it, was enough to shock Peter out of his daze. He blinked a few times, that same fearful look he’d had at Rumlow now directed at Bucky and while he knew it was only a result of the panic, the fear, it twisted deep into Bucky’s chest. Peter glanced over at Rumlow nervously one last time, before Rumlow waved the end of his gun with a roll of his eyes, almost in permission, and Peter took off sprinting. He didn’t look over his shoulder again as he disappeared into the night.

Bucky listened for Peter’s footsteps to fade into the faint accompaniment of crickets and gentle waves before he took in a breath again.

“I know you’re covering for the little shit,” Rumlow snarled once Peter was out of view. “I don’t know why and frankly, I don’t care. If he was anyone else, he’d be permanently off the payroll but I’m sure you know my wife requires a bit more persuasion to hold her tongue as of late, so he gets to live. Lucky him. Unfortunately for you, I’m down $25,000 and I can’t punish Parker for it.”

Rumlow took a step forward, barrel of the gun inches from Bucky’s face. A testament of wills.

“Like I said, sir,” Bucky said slowly, adjusting his position and holding Rumlow’s stare, “it was my mistake.”

“Right.” Rumlow glanced back at his guards. He waved the end of the gun in Bucky’s direction before he let it fall back to his side.

Then, the two guards rushed forward; one yanked Bucky’s hands behind his back to hold him still while the other slammed a closed fist to the side of his face. It stung, heartbeat pulsing hard into his jaw, and he could feel the sharp course of blood on his cheek from where the guard’s ring in the shape of a disembodied skull had broken skin.

Bucky shook his head, shaking away the dizziness, before the second punch landed. Cooper pooled into his mouth and he spit a glob of it to the pavement. It hung down off his chin, warm and sticky, and he barely had the time to wipe it on his shoulder before the next fist collided to his jawline.

He didn’t fight back. He knew better than that.

He took another six hits before they threw him in the back seat of the car. One of the guards, the one with the mean right swing, sat in the back next to Bucky, a hand clutched possessively on Bucky’s shoulder. The other drove while Rumlow took the passenger seat, his eyes constantly flickering to the rearview mirror.

Bucky leaned against the window, blood smearing the glass as he tried to focus on the blur of city lights as they turned to covered trees. A haze of green and brown and the dark black sky fading together until they were nothing at all.

***

He must have blacked out somewhere along the way because the next thing he knew, the car door swung open and he fell out onto the driveway with a heavy thud. The tiny rocks in the pavement embedded into his shoulder and he tried to find his feet, but he wasn’t fast enough for that. Skull Ring yanked Bucky up by his collar, throwing an arm over his shoulders and dragged him the rest of the way.

He might have been able to stumble along himself if they gave him just a moment to focus, but Rumlow was never a patient man.

They shoved Bucky through the front door and into the living room, still draped over Skull Ring’s shoulder. Brock followed in behind and closed the door, shrugging off his jacket casually as if coming home from a long day at the office. Then, he turned to his men and started to give orders, something about a basement, but Bucky couldn’t make sense of most of it, not with the ringing in his ears. It was loud and vicious, so much so that he could hear his own heart pounding through his bloodstream.

But there was one thing that broke through the noise, something that snapped him awake, eyes darting across the room as his heart lodged straight up into his throat.

“Brock?” your voice called quietly, shaken. You were standing in the frame of the kitchen door, holding a steaming mug of hot water in your hands, though they were trembling like you might drop it at any second. “What’s going on?”

Bucky only caught your eye for a second before he hung his head, but it was still enough to see the panic, the fear rushing through you at the sight of him. He didn’t want to imagine what he looked like, hanging off the arm of Rumlow’s lackey, bloodied and beaten. He could still feel your stare even as he looked down at the floorboards, blood dripping from his lips to the hardwoods below, barely able to hold himself up on his own feet.

“Baby, not now.” Rumlow pushed past Skull Ring and Bucky, trying to usher you away from the living room but you planted your feet, surprisingly defiant for the devastation in your veins.

You pulled your arms from his grasp, unwilling to leave. It surprised your husband. You'd always escaped the room at the first sign of trouble; whenever there was even a glimpse of Hydra within these walls, you’d rush to the sanctity of your library.

But not now. Not today.

“Hey, boss?” The other guard, the driver with the large nose and bright blonde hair, gestured to the floor where a pool of blood was gathering, dripping down from Bucky’s nose.

“Shit,” Rumlow cursed, disgusted by the red seeping into the pristine hardwood flooring. “Get him to the basement. I’ll deal with him there.”

“The basement?” you repeated breathily. Bucky knew full well about the basement and the stories you’d told about the screams you’d hear in the dead of night from men who’d wronged your husband. It was a room few men walked out of.

As Rumlow attempted to slide past you to make his way to the basement door, you jumped out in front of him, blocking his path. “Is that necessary? What could he have possibly done, Brock? He’s your—he's your right hand. You need him.”

Rumlow paused, dark eyes flickering from you as you stood in his way, back to Bucky as he struggled to stay on his feet. He smirked, his tongue running over his teeth as an idea formulated in his head. “You know what? Why don’t you come with us? I’ll show you what happens when someone costs me a paycheck.”

Skull Ring dragged Bucky down the stairs before he could wait to hear for your answer. His feet caught on the bannister and he almost tumbled the rest of the way down if Skull Ring wasn’t gripping his arm so tight that he might rip it clean off. He threw Bucky to the center of the floor, cement under his knees and stains of dark maroon littering the ground. He grabbed a tight hold of Bucky’s right wrist. Blondie came up and grabbed his left, keeping him positioned on his knees.

“Damn Karpov,” Rumlow chuckled as he made his way down the stairs. “You look like shit.”

Bucky spat the pool of blood in his mouth to the floor defiantly.

Then, you emerged from behind your husband in cautious, tentative steps as you eyed Bucky. You were trying to keep your distance, trying to control the red in your eyes before you cried at the sight of him; jaw clenched, nails digging into your skin. The worst you’d ever seen of him was the night you’d bandaged his hands and he had been the one to dole out the violence. You’d never seen him as the victim.

“You see, baby,” Rumlow started, rolling up his sleeves, “someone destroyed $25,000 worth of Cerberus this evening. I’m sure you’re aware who was running product for me today, aren’t you?”

Your eyes shot to your husband, wide, and Bucky watched as your lips parted in shock, followed shortly but a wave of paralyzing fear. Your breath hitched, stopped right in your chest. You did not inhale again.

“Relax. Your precious cousin is fine,” Rumlow groaned, brushing you off before you could even ask. He made his way to Bucky and gripped a tight hold of his jaw. “Karpov here is taking the fall. Still don’t know why he’d cover for some little punk ass kid but frankly, I don’t care. I’m down $25,000 and someone is going to pay for it.”

A hard pulsing in the side of his cheek nearly had Bucky collapsing to the ground if it wasn’t for the men on either side of him holding him still. You screamed at the shock of it and as Rumlow threw a second fist to Bucky’s cheekbone, your hands clasped over your mouth to keep silent.

Rumlow took a few steps back, shaking out his hand. “Now, pay close attention, baby. I want things to be crystal clear from now on. Tell your cousin if he fucks up my product again, I’ll beat him a hell of a lot worse than I will Karpov.”

You didn’t respond, but Bucky could practically hear your heart threatening to beat straight out of your chest. He sure as hell could hear the frequent, shallow intakes of breath as you nodded rapidly at your husband, stumbling a few paces back until you hit the bannister with a thud.

Bucky tried to catch your eye for a moment, to tell you that he was alright, that he’d been in this position before and survived. He'd come out with a few bruises and cuts, but he’d heal.

It didn’t matter how much of it was true, but he needed you to believe it. The fear on your face was enough to punch him through the gut without a touch from Rumlow or his men.

“Now,” Rumlow snickered, curling his hand into a fist, “let’s teach him a lesson, boys.”

***

Bucky had trained for this. He’d been an army ranger before he was recruited to the FBI. He knew how to take a few hits and withstand pain. He’d once been held prisoner by drug smugglers in Caracas and beaten within an inch of his life, but somehow none of it compared to this.

It wasn’t the pain that did him in or the blood pooling in his mouth he’d started to choke on or open wound breaking further with every hit. It wasn’t the blinding pulsing in his head or bruises sure to form on his wrists from where the guards were holding him down.

It was your screaming.

Bucky had lost count of the hits but he’d broken through the sirens in his ears long enough to hear you begging for Rumlow to stop. His left eye was half swollen shut and the blood trailing down his forehead dripped into his good eye, making your figure red and blurry in front of him, but he watched as you darted out and grabbed Rumlow’s hand mid-air when he pulled back for another swing.

“Enough!” you yelled, voice cracking. You shoved your husband hard in the chest, forcing him to stumble a few steps. “He’s had enough, Brock! Look at him!”

Rumlow stared at you for a moment, jaw clenched, and Bucky wondered if the standoff between you and your husband might result in something worse than his own broken face, but then, suddenly, Rumlow started to laugh. It was an unpleasant sound, sinister and revolting. He stretched out his hand, his knuckles coated red in Bucky’s blood as he let it fall to his side.

“You’re right, baby,” he agreed, waving shortly at his guards who dropped Bucky’s arms, leaving him to crash down to the concrete in a heap, unable to hold his body weight up. “Sometimes I get a little caught up in the fun of it. Hell, maybe I was just showing off for my girl.”

When Bucky looked up again, Rumlow’s arm was snaked around your waist. You were tense; two hands on his chest like you were trying to push him away but knew better than to do so in front of his men. His fingers dipped into the edges of your hips, seeking lower along the curves of your spine and you sucked in a harsh breath.

“Think you can have a little talk with Parker for me? Let him know what happens when he fucks with my product?” he cooed, voice low, almost charming if it weren’t for the red stained on his hands. You gritted your teeth, nodding slowly. Rumlow pressed a kiss to your cheek. He didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he didn’t care, that your whole body had become rigid as stone.

“Good girl,” he sneered, praise laced in degradation.

“What should we do with him, boss?” Blondie asked and Bucky felt the steel toe of a boot prodding at his shoulder as if testing if he were still alive, waiting for a reaction.

“Nothing, you idiot,” Rumlow snapped, stepping away from you enough to give you the opportunity to jolt away from him unnoticed. “Karpov is still my guy. He fucked up but he learned his lesson. Ain’t that right?”

Bucky nodded, though he was sure it came out as little more than a blink.

“He’s been nothing but an asset to this team since we brought him on,” Rumlow continued. “I’m not losing my right-hand man over this bullshit. He knows better than to cover for the kid again, doesn’t he? Problem solved.”

The guards stepped back, hands clasped in front of them. Rumlow kneeled down in front of Bucky, grabbing a firm hold of his chin, forcing him to meet his eye, or whatever he was able to given the swelling. Rumlow started to smile; a big, toothy grin, though it barely touched his eyes. Bucky wondered if it ever did.

“Damn, I really fucked you up, brother,” Rumlow laughed, releasing Bucky’s jaw with a forceful push. “You know what? Consider me impressed. Don’t know why the hell you’d take a beating like this for some snot nosed punk, but it takes balls; balls I guarantee these two morons don’t have.”

Rumlow started to make his way to the stairs, gesturing for his men to follow behind. He paused, his smile fading into something darker as he looked back at Bucky. “Don’t fucking pull that shit again with me, do you understand?”

Bucky didn’t say anything, but he didn’t suppose he had to.

You were still standing just a few feet away, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, staring down at Bucky like you might just break in two. He couldn’t quite tell if it was a scream trying to push its way through your chest or a sob or an all-consuming numbness threatening to pull you under, but you held your stance, back to your husband, nails digging into your arms.

“Deal with him,” Rumlow ordered to you. “Seems like the least you can do since it was your worthless shit of a cousin that forced my hand to begin with.”

You nodded, clinging to the faded fabric of your sweatshirt as you took a step closer to the stairs to watch as your husband ascended to the first floor. He was talking of going for Italian food, that he had worked up an appetite, and his guards were laughing, as if none of them has just committed assault and battery, as if they hadn’t just beat a man within several inches of his life.

Bucky realized then, he was struggling to get a breath in from the blood gurgling in his throat.

The second the door slammed shut, you rushed at him; skidding on your knees as you scrambled along the cement, unbothered by the stains of maroon under you, and your hands darted to the sides of his face. Grasping a hold of him, trying to caught his eye through the swelling and the blood, but he winced, hissing at the sudden sensation and you pulled away quickly, cursing under your breath. Despite the pain, he missed it instantly.

“Oh God, James,” you exhaled, tears in your voice as you gingerly aided him to lean against the wall. He was heavy, heavier than you should be able to lift on your own, but you guided him towards the wall, adjusting his body as gently as you could manage. He was like a rag doll, body barely able to move itself as you tried to keep him steady.

Once he was situated against the wall, your hands began to hover over him, circling at his chest, his shoulders, trembling as you curled them to fists and held them tight to your body; you were afraid to touch him. Your eyes kept coming back to the steady stream of oozing red on his face.

“Y/n...” he mumbled, but not even he could make out the sound of your name on his tongue. A sticky, coppery substance dripped down the corner of his mouth.

“Jesus – fuck,” you cursed, voice shaking. Your fingertips brushed at the blood as it passed his lips, trying to wipe it away but it only smeared down his chin, under your nails. You bit down to stifle a sob as it tore its way through your spine. “I need—I need something for the blood.”

You jumped back to your feet, scrambling around the room. Miscellaneous items fell off the shelves in your search as you frantically searched throughout the room, your panic evident in your murmuring under your breath.

“Where is it? Come on... where is it? Where the fuck is it!?”

Bucky tried to call your name, but nothing came out. He coughed on the blood pooling in the back of his mouth but found a sense of calm in the patter of your bare feet upon the cement, your hushed whispers to yourself.

Bucky sighed, closing his eyes as he leaned back against the cool surface of the wall. He found relief for a moment as his conscious began to drift, giving into the emptiness of a dark, painless embrace.

***

He didn’t know how long it took before you found whatever it was you were looking for, but the next thing he knew, you were kneeling back at his side again, dabbing his forehead with a soft cloth. It was stained red with tiny untouched white fabric on the corners. He swallowed, finding it a little easier now.

“Thought I lost you for a second,” you whispered. Your voice was shaken and you tried to mask the tremors in your hands as you cleaned the blood from his face, but it was of little use.

Bucky could barely see you, but you were positioned on his right, where he could watch you out of his only good eye. and for that he was thankful. His heart rate stared to draw out in even beats the longer he looked at you.

Your hair was tussled on top of your head in a loose bun, pieces falling out the sides and down by your ears. You were dressed in loose fitting pajama shorts and an old college sweatshirt a few sizes too big for you, the same one he saw you wear on one of his first days on this case as you skirted around your library in search of a book. Face free of makeup and eyes red with tears, reflective streaks dripped along your cheeks; you were nibbling on the ends of your lips.

There was blood stained to the sleeves of the sweatshirt.

“You really scared me,” you confessed, keeping your focus on his wounds, though you were holding back tears. You refolded the cloth to a clean side, though it was still faded in pink. “I’ve never—He’s never made me watch something like that before. I knew that he... I knew he was capable of it but actually watching him... and for it to be you... I just... God, why is there so much blood…”

Bucky reached up and gently wrapped his hand around your wrist, drawing your attention away from the wound on his cheekbone and when you finally looked at him, you broke into tears.

“M’okay,” Bucky mumbled, his voice raspy and low, but it was audible.

You shook your head, kneeing back on your heels and brushing your hand over your face. Your skin glistened around your eyes, down by your cheeks, too. Your nose was runny and sniffling, and you were still so beautiful. Bucky wondered if it was part of his haze, the delirium kicking in or maybe the shock, but he’d always find ways to admire you.

“This is my fault,” you gasped, pushing the palms of your hands to your eyes and Bucky’s heart lurched.

“Don’t do that.”

He couldn’t get more than a few words out at a time from all the swelling but when he put his hand on your thigh, tracing small, delicate patterns, you let your hands fall away. Eyes trailing down to his hand and you quickly gathered it in your own and brought it to your lips. You pressed warm, gentle kisses to each of his knuckles, to the back of his hand, the inside of his palm, before you rested it on the side of your face, aiding him in cupping your cheek.

“You were covering for Peter, James. I asked you to do that.” Fresh tears brushed over Bucky’s hand.

“I make my own choices,” he insisted, pushing through the rasp in his throat, voice still barely audible above a whisper but it was enough. Your eyes were still focused on the broken skin on his cheekbone. “I can handle it, sweetheart.”

You sighed, carefully setting his hand back against his own thigh as you picked up the cloth again, resuming your work.

“You shouldn’t have to.”

***

Over the next hour, you carefully cleaned and stitched each of the open wounds on Bucky’s face. You handled each one like you’d done it dozens of times before, though he was certain you were only putting on a brave face for him. The tremor in your lower lip masked by the sharp bite of your teeth did not go unnoticed.

The long cut against his cheekbone the worst of it, laying on top of a swollen well of tissue as you weaved the needle through his skin. He was numbed from the hits, so he shouldn’t be able to feel any of it, and yet, all he could focus on was the delicate touch of your fingertips over his nose, his jawline, his lips, keeping your hand steady as you furrowed your brow in concentration.

When you were done, the blood had long been cleared from his face; absorbed into the piles of rags lying beside you. You brushed your thumb over the stitches, ones you’d made him promise to get checked out by someone with a professional degree when morning came, but you’d done well enough. He was in one piece. The only evidence held in the slight swelling and discoloration forming on his face.

“I hate that this happened to you,” you whispered, letting your hand gently caress his cheek. You took a deep breath, chewing on the inside of your lip and trying to hide the tremor there. “I hate that you’ll go back to work for him tomorrow like none of this happened. I hate that he would have done this to Peter if it weren’t for you...”

“I told you, darlin’, I’m alright,” Bucky tried to reassure you, though you had trouble hearing it.

His voice was coming back to him, the strain in his throat going down. He gently brushed away a fallen strand of hair from your eyes, tucking it behind your ear, and setting his palm to lie against your cheek. He smiled sweetly at you despite the crack in his lip, his thumb brushing in tender strokes under your eyes to wipe away the wetness there.

“He’s a monster,” you said, voice strained like you were holding back tears again and still, laced in venom. “I hate him. I fucking hate him.”

You grabbed Bucky’s hand from your cheek, curling it in your own. You kissed his knuckles again and he swore it might be his favorite feeling in the world. He'd memorize it, seer it into his senses.

In your exhale, the breath was warm against his skin. “I don’t understand why you work for him. You’re a good man, James.”

Bucky flinched at the name.

He thought of all the times he’d lied to you about who he really was, about the deception it took and calculated coincidences in the beginning of your relationship, how he’d manipulated you into giving information on Hydra and your husband, even though you gave it over willingly, you didn't know the consequences of it.

“I’m-- I’m not, sweetheart,” he shook his head, eyes casting down to the floor.

He thought of the times he’d followed Rumlow’s orders; how he’d beaten men into the state he was in now with little evidence for their crimes. It was part of his job, his assignment on this case, to give over pieces of himself – his morality – to the identity he was assigned. It was how they brought down so many criminals without being detected. He’d done it dozens of times before, but things were different now.

Now, he had you.

“You don’t know the things I’ve done,” he continued, not giving you a chance to interject. “I've hurt people, Y/n. Worse than this. I’ve killed, too. I’m... I’m not a good person.”

“Yes, you are,” you insisted, shaking your head. You reached out to cup the sides of his face and this time, it didn’t hurt, not with the wounds cleaned and stitched. You were impossibly gentle with him, like the touch of a feather to burning embers. “I know your heart, James. The rest... it doesn’t matter. I know you.”

“I wish that were true,” he sighed, turning to press a kiss to the palm of your right hand.

“Why do you keep saying things like that?” Your hands slowly fell back to your sides. “You’re not making sense, James.”

Bucky swallowed and it tasted of copper. He reached out to you, hand brushing up against your neck, thumb tracing your jawline.

“Do you trust me?”

You narrowed your eyes, surprised by the question. “Of course, but—”

“Then trust me a little longer.” Bucky licked at the broken skin on his lips, trying to keep himself from spilling the truth to you right then and there; his real name, his history, the case he was building against your husband. It was nearly impossible with the way you were looking at him, with tears fresh in your eyes and this helpless kind of adoration nestled within the shimmer in your irises.

You seemed reluctant, wanting the answers you deserved, but you nodded, trusting him blindly as you did. He wondered if you’d come to regret that later. He tried not to think about it.

“I’ll take care of you, sweetheart, I promise,” he added upon noticing the questions brewing in the back of your mind in the slight bite of your lip. “I won’t let anything happen to you. You’re safe with me. Always.”

“I know.”

Your voice was just barely a whisper, eyes flickering down to his lips before the returned to ocean blue. Bucky’s heart was pounding terribly in his chest but it was exhilarating. It sprung life into his veins, electricity through even the darkest parts of him, and he pushed himself off the wall, closer to you.

“James, be careful...” you exhaled, your voice made of silk and honey. He could feel your pulse beating under his fingertips; rapid thumps in rhythm with his own. They sang together, composing a symphony in line with your shallow breaths and the drizzle of rain outside against the small windowpane above.

He leaned in closer, his eyes studying yours for reasons to stop, but you gave him none; no excuses to pull away, no hesitancy or reluctance, you waited patiently for him. His nose brushed yours and he paused, eyes closed and reveling in the warmth of your breath in his skin. He’d been here before too many times, so close and never close enough.

With a short inhale and a breath of courage, Bucky leaned forward, capturing your lower lip between his own. Softer than he’d imagined. He felt you sigh against him, relief in the soft vibrations of your lips as you kissed him; a longing you’d shared for another for so long, it was like floodgates breaking open at a single touch.

It would have been rushed, desperate and heated after nearly a year of holding back if it wasn’t for the injuries he’d sustained; the cuts and bruises and swelling on his face. You were tender with him, careful of the cut on his lower lip as you pulled away for breath and began to press sweet, gingered kisses to the tip of his nose, between his eyes, his forehead, his temple, the stitches on his cheekbone, his jaw, healing him, saving him, until he missed you so terribly he pulled you back to his mouth.

You smiled to his lips, a breathy kind of laugh against him, a relief in kissing him like it was where you were always meant to be. You tasted of dried tears and the chocolate peppermint tea you’d been steeping before he was thrown bloodied and broken at your feet. Your lips were like satin and velvet, smooth and tender against the throbbing ache of his cheekbone; sharp contrast in the delicacy of your touch to the violence he endured.

Then, your tongue brushed at the broken middle of his lower lip and Bucky hissed, sucking in a harsh breath at the sting of it.

“Shit�� I-I’m sorry,” you gasped, pulling away breathless. There was a flash of concern in your eyes but Bucky started to laugh under his breath, shaking his head and suddenly, you were smiling too, grinning impossibly wide over swollen lips.

Bucky swore in that moment you’d never been more beautiful, not even in the lavender dress. Lips swollen and chest panting. Hair a little messier than before. A glimmer in your eye and the flash of concern breaking through the dizziness touching over your features.

“Don’t apologize for kissing me like that,” Bucky laughed under his breath, playing with the ends of your hair. He tugged you closer to press a final, chaste kiss to your lips.

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” you mumbled, smile brimming on your face as he pulled away.

“Not possible, sweetheart.”

You were staring at him like he might hold the entire universe in his hands. Maybe he did when it was you within his arms. His sun and moon and stars and galaxy.

Your fingers traced down along his jawline, feather light against the black and blue discoloration. It was like you were memorizing him, drawing him, touching tenderly along his edges and grounding yourself to him.

“What are we gonna do, James?” you asked slowly, smile slowly slipping from your face.

Bucky could feel the heaviness of your question pushing down deep onto his chest. You brushed your thumb over the corner of his lips and he stole a kiss to the tips of your fingers.

It wasn’t a question he could answer. You knew that. The two of you were already treading in dangerous water and now, the waves were growing higher, the clouds above erupting with thunder under darkened skies. A storm was coming; one neither of you had the power to control.

Bucky started to wonder if either of you would survive it.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

865 notes · View notes

my-writings-and-musings · 4 years

Note

Okay so the last ask made me think of this, imagine the young humans from the adoption ask got seriously hurt one of the big fights, how would the bots from the ask react?

Ohohoho for those who don't know this is the ask in question...

Tailgate

·No matter if just one human is injured or all are hurt in some way, and regardless of whether he was there or not, his guilt is unfathomable. These tiny human protoforms looked up to him, called him their big brother and obviously thought of him as a source of security and protection... How could he have failed them like this? He'd known firsthand how dangerous the galaxy could be, and had experienced how scary it was to be thrown right into it, he should have been ready for their sake! No amount of reasurance can make him see otherwise. If anything, he pushes away any and all attempts at comfort, believing he doesn't deserve them. Should whatever enemy that hurt them still be out there, he'll absolutely have a go at them if at all possible. If they escape he'll make it a personal mission to someday pay them back for everything they've done.

·His hab suite is abandoned to keep watch over the injured liaisons, even if some of them are well enough to insist he can absolutely recharge in his own room. Should any human be in a coma, or otherwise bedbound, he'll ensure they never go a moment without company. From holding tiny hands in his to telling endless made up stories and even arranging movies or other entertainment, his vigil is tireless. On more than one occasion he opts to just sleep on the floor. It also doesn't escape the notice of other humans, as they visit their fellow liaisons or recover enough to speak, that his expression is occasionally wracked with guilt. Being small doesn't stop them seeing the tears he strives to hide either.

·As soon as it's possible, the full liaison group stages a kind of intervention, coming together around the minibot for a hug even if some of them are still bandaged from their injuries. A barrage of reassurance is somewhat scrambled as they all begin talking at once, so overcome with love for their adopted big brother that soon the whole group is crying. Tailgate loses it when they do and gently but emphatically embraces them in return, shedding a waterfall of tears as he lets the guilt fall from his shoulders at last. He'd been so afraid of losing the little family that had broken his millions of years of loneliness, so to hear straight from them that wasn't happening... He didn't even care when a medic arrived and gently encouraged those injured to return to rest. Knowing he's still their big brother reminds him that he'll always have this family, no matter what.

Ratchet

·In the initial "incident" he's calm, but only because he must be as the medic, and a couple million years of experience are the only thing keeping him from breaking at the sight of tiny, damaged bodies. But even with his nerves holding strong it's immediately apparent he's under immense emotional turmoil, as his demeanor is exceptionally snappish compared to the norm. Even the other medics notice and cast each other worried looks as the humans are stabilized. Seeing that they'll survive gives him no comfort, as the liaisons had counted on him to keep them safe, and he's failed them. No matter the circumstances, he refuses to believe he doesn't shoulder at least some of the blame for their injuries. He's far too focused on keeping them stable and getting them fully recovered to care about hunting down who hurt them... for the time being.

·Though he's always been a bit of a workaholic, he has to be more or less ordered to leave the medical bay, even to eat or sleep. Every pulse on the heartbeat monitor gets his total attention, to the point he strains his optics focusing on the vitals when there's nothing else to be done. Despite being quite well versed in human medicine, he rereads every single bit of material he can find on the subject, just to be certain in his decisions. If other liaisons are uninjured or wake up before the others, he keeps a brave face whenever they're around, maintaining his role as their protector and mentor. He refuses to let them know he's in need of help while they suffer for his perceived mistakes.

·It's only when the whole group is awake and decently on the road to recovery that they start to notice something is off. While he pretends to be fine in their presence, even Ratchet can't hide the incredible guilt and sadness in his optics whenever he doesn't know he's being watched. Though initially insistent that he's merely tired from work, the liaisons are able to break through with a group reasurance that they don't blame him for anything. He patched them up when they were on death's door! An actual sob of relief shakes his shoulders when he's assured he'll always be "Doctor Mom" to them, and they are always grateful for his care.

Minimus

·It's rather fortunate he's in his Magnus armor when they're injured, because whether he's there or not, whatever hurt them is going to be hurt far worse if he's able to reach it. In the aftermath of a rapidly executed revenge though, he's hit with grief and guilt like none he's ever known. Seeing their damaged little bodies only makes it worse. He's the head of security, he told them he would keep them safe, all of this is his fault. Immediately his office becomes the only place he can be found, save for odd hour visits to check up on the liaisons in silence. Every security procedure has to be updated, every defense system needs to be reworked, and he refuses to rest until he is satisfied. Of course, that simply isn't possible.

·Everyone on the ship is aware of his absence, as it's hard not to notice a bot so massive suddenly being nowhere in sight. All attempts to encourage him outside simply get dismissed with cold and curt replies. As the liaisons begin to recover, those in and out of the medical bay very quickly take note of their "Uncle Magnus" being so rarely present, and that his demeanor is distant instead of quiet. They don't know that he thinks to Verity when he sees them, or that he is growing increasingly unable to face them, but they are all more than able to recognize hurt. It takes solid planning to try and have a conversation with him that involves the whole group.

·Only luck and perseverance allow the young liaisons to all meet up with him in his office, catching him off guard and out of his armor as Minimus, and it takes a bit of pushing to get him talking. Though his responses are still quick, they all put together his suffering quite quickly. The reserved bot is surrounded by a group hug he can't escape, and the young humans make it emphatically clear he isn't responsible for making the entire universe safe. They agreed to go on this mission knowing the risks, and even after what happened, they want to stay specifically because of bots like him. With his shell quite cracked, he kneels down to return the embrace as best he can. Reassuring the gathered group that he wants them to stay as well, he thanks them for their... patience, with his troubles. The humans know he really means to thank them for more, but just doesn't want to cry in front of them.

Swerve

·When he's told of the incident that resulted in their wounds, he freezes, more due to being overwhelmed by too many emotions at once than anything else. For a solid instant he was actually silent. Words didn't even make sense when he started rushing through questions on their condition, and made less sense when he got to the medical bay and received an explanation. Seeing them on the repair slabs had almost broken him. As illogical as it is to blame himself, he can't help but feel he's failed them in some way, perhaps by not preparing them for a universe that is capable of this. They should have been with a responsible bot who could have taught them to defend themselves, not... him. He waits until he's alone in his room to cry from the weight of it all.

·Though he tries to visit the liaisons often, it hurts every time he sees them. The bar becomes his primary focus, but not in a healthy way, especially as he begins to throw himself into whatever might distract him from the pain. Being a pro at hiding his emotion ensures that very few bots suspect something is wrong. But once some of the humans start to visit him, either for events at the bar or just to visit, they quickly pick up on something being wrong. While not distant, there's very obviously a wall up around their usually open friend. Attempts to see if he's hurting result in very quick diversions and impressive topic avoidance displays from the usually chipper bot. It takes a group effort when the bar is closed to get through to their friend.

·Swerve actually appears afraid when all the liaisons show up to speak with him, and breaks quickly when they express a desire to talk, holding back tears as he apologizes for everything he's messed up. Even a whole group struggles to get a word in, and he isn't at all prepared to stop as he begins saying how sorry he is for keeping them from what would have protected them. Finally able to get a question through, they get him to explain his belief that befriending him held them back from spending time with bots who could have actually kept them safe. That gets the whole group moving in sync. Each liaison reassures him that they treasure their relationship with him, and that he's probably the most fun and friendly bot on the ship, so much so that none of them would give up knowing him for anything. When he tries to point out they could have died, a promise that his friendship is still worth it sets off happy waterworks. A number of liaisons hand him towels to wipe away the tears as they promise he doesn't need to worry about being alone ever again.

Whirl

·No one needs to tell him about the injuries, as soon as he hears so much as a hint of trouble he's tearing across the ship to protect his beloved little family. Revenge isn't a concern for long, though the cleanup will be for some time, as his wrath is nothing short of brutal. The overwhelming pain of seeing one of the humans hurt, however... Sedation is needed to keep him from doing anything drastic, and he has to receive the news of their condition slowly and in pieces to bring him back to reality in a way he can handle. Afterwards he's more just... numb. Knowing they'll be okay doesn't help, because the fact that it came so close is enough to rock him to his core. Just seeing any of them in the medbay is physically painful.

·It's a miracle he doesn't stock up on supplies and steal a shuttle, because ordinarily this kind of thing is a flaring signal that he needs to move on. Staying in one place is risky for this exact reason. Only his deep ties to the little group hold him back, but he is intent to distance himself from now on, avoiding the humans whenever possible once they recover. It's for the best, he tells himself, because being associated with him never ends well for anyone. He can't help but blame himself for being so happy he actually forgot that, resulting in so much avoidable hurt for others. The strategy works well even if it kills him to brush off every attempt the liaisons offer to meet up. Once they're well enough, the young humans quickly put together something is wrong, and they plan a check up on their favorite Copterbot.

·Whirl, for all his reputation, nearly cowers when he's accidentally cornered in his room. Avoiding eye contact with the whole group, he's quick to try and get them to leave, insisting that they just don't know what's good for them. Namely, he's not good for them. At their stubborn refusal to comply he's frustrated but just can't be angry. It's not personal, he explains, but being near him just isn't safe and they're far too delicate to risk it. It's his turn to be surprised when they emphatically deny him, pointing out his rescue and that his past isn't ever going to drive them away. Despite their size, he's almost knocked over by the strength of their conviction. Does he really mean that much to them? A synchronized assault of tiny hugs brings him to his knees, and all the reasurance he feels in their small hands ignites something in his spark he doesn't have a name for. All the bitterness he's accumulated stands no chance against their boundless acceptance. Trying not to be sappy, he concedes that he can chill with them seeing as how upset they are, and the liaisons pretend not to see the tears welling up in his optic.

Support me here if you like my writing! Every donation helps me secure more time to create, and the same goes for commissions, which are always available!

#transformers #maccadam #more than meets the eye #mtmte #lost light #idw #tf #swerve #whirl #minimus #tailgate #ratchet #liaisons #human reader #self insert #my writing #my asks #anon #requests

106 notes · View notes

blubberingmess · 4 years

Text

[Little guy: Peach] *Bucky's view pt1*

Pairing: Bucky/Chibi!Bucky x male!reader

Continuation for [Little guy: Bubba]

Note: a few changes in Bucky's tactical gear.

[1930s!Bucky]

'Happy 18th birthday!'

Bucky is practically shaking with excitement as he stares down at the cake in front of him, his smile so wide he could almost feel his cheeks rip. But the cake nor the presents he got was not the reason for why he was excited, no, it's so much more than that. He finally turned eighteen which means there's a high chance his soon-to-be chibi would appear, ready to shower him with affection and love just like his soulmate would - or hope they would.

But alas, day became night and there's still no chibi in sight.

"Don't worry, Bucky. She will come out eventually, just you wait." Bucky heard Steve said from beside him, placing a cold and thin yet comforting hand on his shoulder. He can't help but feel envious as he watched his friend pat the small female chibi on his lap, cooing up at him like a love-sick puppy.

"Yeah she will," Bucky puts on a boyish grin and puffs his chest out as he spoke with certainty. "And when she does, she'll the most prettiest chibi in the whole world."

And wait he did; his 20th birthday became 27th. At the same time as Bucky's getting older, the single flame of hope inside of him is getting weaker and weaker as the years gone by. The thought of himself not actually having a soulmate or her dying at such a young age is like a sharp stab in the chest; like of ice-cold water pouring down on that small flame until it was only a mere burn inside his chest, a scar to remind him of the sad, sad reality he's living in.

"Wanna come with us, Jamie-boy? Our last day in Brooklyn. Don'tcha think we deserve a little bit of fun, if y'know what I mean?" One of his so-called friends Karl nudged him on his side playfully, a mischievous grin on his face as he spoke.

Bucky eyes flickered at the small female chibi on the table that belongs to Karl, putting on a fake, tight smile despite him clenching his jaw in irritation for saying such things in front of his chibi.

"Nah, I don't think I can right now. You guys go ahead without me," declined Bucky.

Karl shrugs his shoulders, not really caring if Bucky comes or not. "Suit yourself. Hey fellas! Let's go!" The brunette was shocked and angered as he watched Karl harshly grabs the chibi from the table making it squeak in pain before walking away with his small group of friends, with their own chibis on their shoulders.

Bucky wanted to stop him, he really do, but he doesn't have the right to do such thing no matter how the person deserves a good punching.

Why haven't they said anything about Bucky not having his own chibi by his side? It's because he lied, saying he doesn't like to carry his chibi around and all that. How can he say the truth? Even himself doesn't know the truth! Does he or does he not have a soulmate? He's pushing thirty for Pete's sake!

Bucky's gaze is down as he propped his elbow in the table, sighing to himself before averting his eyes back up. Blue eyes danced around the bar, fiddling with the shot of whiskey in hand. Regardless of knowing how fruitless his searching was everyday, he can't stop no matter how hard he tried to - like it's now in his instinct to look around, to search for the small being that would lead him towards his supposedly other half.

Leaning his head back, he downed the whiskey in hand before slamming it onto the table a bit harder than intended, causing eyes to turn towards him. Bucky doesn't care, there's so much thoughts running around in his head to do so, tossing a few coins on the table before heading out of the bar to find his best and only friend Steve Rogers.

[Winter Soldier!Bucky]

The cold brittle December night and the harsh falling of snow from above barely made the winter soldier flinch as he crouches on top of the rooftop, aiming his sniper rifle at his target. His breathing is steady as well as his heart, like he isn't just about to kill one of the people who crossed Hydra.

He steadied his aim, locking at the target's head.

His index finger pushed the trigger just the slightest in a thrillingly slow--

Squeak!

His eyes narrowed at the sound, leaning his head back to look around his surroundings, ready to pull out his gun from its holster. He found nothing but snow and the fresh corpse of one of the guard at the center, he focuses his attention back on the scope and almost jumps in surprise.

Blocking his scope is a small almost human looking thing, curiously looking through the glass, tapping it a few times before grunting. The winter soldier immediately knew it was a male from the way he looks and sound, watching him waddles a few step back.

The chibi tilts his head to the side and unconsciously, Soldier tilted his head as well before registering what he had done a second later, shaking his head with a scowl. Bucky grabs the chibi with his calloused yet surprisingly gentle hand, and carefully placing him on the black case next to him before focusing back on his mission.

Fuck. The target moved away from the window, but it's nothing the Winter Soldier can't fix. With a small turn of the rifle to the left and a single pull of the trigger with no hint of hesitancy, the target fell down to the marbled floor, immediately causing the guests and securities to panic and run around like some headless chickens - pathetic.

The soldier straightens his back and turn his whole body to face the chibi who just casually continues to stares up at him with curious look on his face, once again, tilting his head to the side. Without a second thought, he lifts the chibi but now with his metal hand instead and started packing the sniper rifle in the case.

"Good job, Soldier. We'll be waiting for you." A familiar voice said from his earpiece before it goes static to silent.

The soldier for once didn't heard what has been said in his ear for all his attention is now on the chibi in his hand, face squished up at his grip but seemingly comfortable as it closes his eyes and sighs in content. The sight made his cold, steady heart skips a beat.

He's not stupid, he knows what chibis are and what their purpose is, and he don't like it. Anger surely bubbles up inside him and he don't know why, looking at the little thing makes him want to punch a nearby wall all while simultaneously wanting to just sit down and bask in the affection the chibi is currently giving him - peppering little kisses on his metal hand, like he's trying to comfort him.

The soldier closed his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh before grabbing the black case from the ground.

Having the chibi around isn't as irritating as he first thought it would.

He was apprehensive at first, the idea of having someone out there waiting for him; a cold-blooded murderer. The asset did not paid attention to the chibi whatsoever for a few days, only sharing his disgusting food with him; stale bread and just as unflavored mash potato, or some MRE food pack. To his surprise and relief, the chibi doesn't complain and would accept the food gratefully.

The winter soldier slowly warms up, letting the little guy in his very, very small, one person 'personal bubble'. He started to actually enjoy the little guy's affectionate actions and kisses, instead of pushing him away every time.

He once left the chibi alone to train one day, which caused to one of the agents almost finding out about while doing a quick survey of his room.

He never left the chibi's side since then.

The soldier isn't that heartless-- well, not much to the chibi-- for he is still... practicing, learning how to be gentle. Who could blame him? he once made the little guy cry, and truth to be told, he did not like it one bit.

He also found out that he likes-- loves peaches after leaving him on a unguarded stall that sells peaches because the mission is too dangerous, only coming back to him snoring on top of one with his tummy all big and full with four peach cores around him - thus the reason why he called him 'Peach'.

He cannot recall how many times he would wake up from a nightmare he couldn't remember at such ungodly hour with Peach crawling up to his rapidly rising and falling chest, patting his cheek and giving him a kiss on the forehead. Remembering all the night when he would just cry, letting out his frustration, anger, and confusion while holding Peach close to his chest.

The little guy don't talk, isn't that helpful, squeaky and loud, everything he hates to a person (except the first one) but he would be lying if he said it didn't provide him immense comfort.

Four years had passed. The winter soldier's chibi was there when it all happened, tucked inside his vest made from kevlar where no one could notice, not even Hydra which was quite shocking. A makeshift pocket the soldier himself sewn after stealing a small sewing kit from one of his previous mission, prickling his flesh fingers a few times. Reason why he started to clipped on his vest a bit loosely than how he normally does to avoid Peach getting squished or suffocate to death.

"You're my mission." Bucky roared as he throw a powerful punch after punch while the blonde kept his hands hanging off to the side, not making a move to fight back.

"You're my mission!" He repeats.

"Then finish it." Bucky immediately stops his fist in mid-punch as Steve continues.

"Cause I'm with you to the end of the line--"

A small squeak-like grunt was suddenly heard, freezing both men. Steve watches as something-- a mop of hair-- pokes out from inside his vest. A disheveled looking Peach looks around his surroundings, sleepy eyes swinging from Bucky to Steve before letting out a yawn.

"You have a... chibi," Steve whispers in shock.

Just then another explosion happened, sending the whole helicarrier to shake as the bottom of the falls, taking Steve down with it. Bucky watching him fell down after he managed to grab hold onto of the remaining part of the helicarrier, a sense of recognition and inner-conflict within the stormy blue eyes is the sight Steve last saw before he blacked out.

That and the particular chibi tucked in his vest. What shocked him the most is the fact that the chibi is a male.

Who would've thought?

Too long, Tumblr can't take it. Next will be the last part :) more shorter.

Excuse my poorly drawn sketch. Anyways, this scene makes me laugh now that I think about it 😂😂😂

Tags for [Little guy]: @fafulous @putinovertime @daybreakmistakes

#bucky #Bucky x reader #bucky x male!reader #bucky x reader fluff #Bucky x male!reader fluff #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x male!reader #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x male!reader fluff #winter soldier fic #avengers x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky x chubby!reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader

289 notes · View notes

geekgirles · 3 years

Text

Your Heart

Chapter 6 -- A Ghostophobe, a Giant Iguana, and Vegan Nacho Cheese

Word Count: 14402

READ ON AO3

As an aspiring astronaut, Danny’s dream had always been going to space.

Being able to look at the vastness of the universe, to literally look down on Earth and see every single country at once, to stargaze up close… All from the comfort of the space station as he leisurely floated around in zero gravity.

Really, that was all he asked for.

He was convinced he lost his chance when he got his powers.

Although not directly connected to his dream, the birth of Danny Phantom almost put his GPA in jeopardy several times. Before the accident, he used to be a good student, granted, not as good as Jazz, but he brought home good marks. But once the first sleepless night trying to catch rogue ghosts came, countless more were soon to follow.

Between the lack of sleep, being tardy to class or skipping it altogether, and many more instances of ‘teenage rebellion’ (all caused by his attempts to save everyone from malevolent spirits, not like anyone cared), Danny was sure his dreams of going to space had all but vanished before him.

There were no words capable of describing his joy when he miraculously pulled just the mark he needed to be accepted at Amity Park University’s Astrophysics degree. So what if he couldn’t go to a fancy college like Yale, or Stanford? That was Jazz’s dream, not his. Besides, studying at APU was perfect for protecting the town and getting access to the Ghost Zone.

He seriously doubted any of those preppy colleges would have granted him permission to build a ghost portal in their labs, anyway.

And so, he was closer to his dream than he’d thought he’d ever be during all of high school. During that time, he found solace in flying. Being one of the only two people in the whole world who could fly without help was even more special than being selected by NASA; a feat in itself. And it was so...liberating.

Even when he struggled most with his powers, just being able to fly made it all worth it. The immense relief that would envelop him whenever he just let the breeze guide him, lazily swaying in the sky and under the moonlight. The feeling he’d get whenever the adrenaline coursed through his veins as he picked up speed, sometimes even breaking the sound barrier when he felt like really challenging himself. Or just the chance to quiet the hectic voices ruling his life, even for just one moment: fight ghosts, save everyone, try to fit in, don’t let Mum and Dad find out what you are. Fight ghosts, save everyone, try to fit in, don’t let Mum and Dad find out what you are. Fight ghosts, save everyone, try toー

The mere chance to leave his worries behind, even for just a second, made the prospect of losing his one chance at his dream seem worth it.

Although...he did get the chance to be an astronaut during freshman year. But that was a story for another day.

Now, at twenty-one and with even more things to worry about, flying was still the one place he could find solace in. Tucker often told him that’d change the day he found himself a girlfriend, but let’s be real; who’d want to date someone like him?

Unlike high school, however, his problem wasn’t his look or his personality. The not-so-subtle glancesーwhich were almost predatory, might he addーand shameless gossiping and squealing he got from the girls around campus confirmed he’d grown from ‘Scrawny, Awkward Fenturd’, to ‘Tall, Dark, and Handsome Fenstud.’

The moniker stroked his ego, he wasn’t going to deny it. But the problem wasn’t his popularity with the opposite sex. The problem was how the opposite sex would react if they knew his secret.

Okay, maybe that was the wrong way to phrase that sentence. If the excited shrieking and squealing his alter ego received from the members of his fan club were anything to go by, any of those girls would faint in elation if they ever got the chance to date Danny Phantom. The polls from gossip magazines dedicated to discussing how hot the Ghost Boy was ーwhen were they gonna change that nickname to ‘Ghost Man’, anyway? When he was 40?!ー didn’t lie.

The real problem would come when his girlfriend got involved in his double life. And even if he wouldn’t want her to be involved, let alone fight ghosts alongside him like Tucker and Jazz did, deep down he knew it was inevitable. The moment his enemies found out he had a new girlfriend, they would use her to get to him. After all, what better way to defeat someone than to exploit his weakness? If Technus, of all people, could come up with that plan, anybody else could.

As he surveyed Amity Park from above, lost in his thoughts, Danny suddenly registered a source of heat coming from his right. Quickly swirling in the opposite direction to avoid the incoming projectile, a pink beam of ecto-energy, he quickly scanned his surroundings to identify his opponent. And judging by the way his Ghost Sense hadn't gone off, that could only be one person.

“Valerie.”

“It’s Red Huntress for you, spook!” A snarl, accompanied by another pink blast, came from above him. After blocking the attack with an ecto-shield, he looked up. Lo and behold, Valerie was hovering over him on her forked, black and red hoverboard, an ecto-gun protruding from her forearm and aimed directly at him.

Valerie Gray, also known as The Red Huntress. Amity Park’s most competent ghost hunter, after him. Who also happened to be his sorta-kinda-maybe-it’s-complicated ex-girlfriend. Or his S.K.M.I.C.E.G.F. for short.

Somehow, that acronym never had a good reception.

His story with Valerie was...an interesting one, to say the least. Their relationship was full of ups and downs, with the downs eventually becoming an integral and exclusive part of their interactions as Danny Phantom and The Red Huntress.

They started out as complete strangers. Well, not exactly. They both knew of each other back in the beginning to freshman year of high school, but they didn’t know each other. Valerie started out as another A-lister; haughty, self-centred, she made no effort to hide her disdain for those ‘bellow her.’ Of course, Danny, being Danny Fenton, one of the biggest losers in Casper High, was particularly low in her long list of those ‘bellow her.’

But that all changed thanks to a little ghost puppy he called Cujo.

Cujo was the ghost of a guard dog trained by Axion Labs, where Damon Gray, Valerie’s father, worked. They got rid of the dogs after upgrading the security system, with the misfortune of preparing the labs for any possible kind of assault, except for a ghost puppy with the ability to turn into a bigger, more menacing dog looking for his lost chew toy.

Needless to say, things could’ve gone better. If only because his accidental meddling had been indirectly responsible for Mr. Gray losing his job, the Grays losing their fortune and their house, Valerie falling from grace and losing her popularity, and her developing a huge grudge against all ghosts, especially him, that lasted well into present time.

If there were job applications for fucking people over that weren’t exclusively related to sex work, he’d be a pro.

As expected when someone dedicated their lives to hunting you, regardless of your attempts to befriend them or explain the situation, the two didn’t quite get along at first. Between Valerie’s newfound purpose to waste him and the fact that she never really acknowledged she’d been as terrible to him and Tucker as the A-listers were now with her, the two often butted heads even at school.

Their opinions of each other didn’t change until Skulker forced them to work together to survive his island and his attempts at hunting them both, when they actually had a heart-to-heart. Their civilian selves being simultaneously paired up for a Health class project also helped.

But what really changed things was the very same events that turned Danny Phantom into the Ghost King.

During Pariah Dark’s return, Danny Fenton and Valerie Gray really connected, and Danny learned to appreciate her in a whole new light. She was amazing while she fought Dark and the Fright Knight; the months she’d had to hone her abilities really shone through. Her attacks were intuitive, yet calculated. Her moves, nimble but they packed quite the punch. She was confident, and yet cautious enough to not get cocky.

As odd as it sounded, seeing her fight was incredibly hot.

...alright, so maybe he did have a thing for girls who could kick his ass. He blamed his dad for that one.

That day, something sparked between them...but only between Danny Fenton and Valerie; she still hated the Ghost Boy with every fiber of her being. She was positively furious when she found out he’d been chosen as the next ruler of the Ghost Zone.

Danny had to admit, anybody else with half a brain cell would have understood that crushing on a girl hellbent on destroying a part of him maybe wasn’t the best idea ever. Tucker and Jazz certainly thought so. But he was fourteen, hormones were high, and Valerie was the coolest girl he’d ever met so far, so…

Common sense be damned.

And so, they tried going out for some time. During those few dates the two went together he was over the moon, walking on air, he couldn’t believe his luck! He’d finally found a girl who liked him for him. Someone real and approachable, unlike his previous crushes on popular girlsーironically enough since Valerie herself used to be an unapproachable popular girl.

The universe itself seemed to want them to be together!

Not only did they dates suddenly get better thanks to some weird coincidenceーa blackout turning a dinner in a greasy diner into a romantic candle-lit evening, winning carnival tickets at the baseball game, the ferris wheel stopping at the most romantic point possibleーbut they seemed to be enough to get the idea inside Valerie’s head that maybe their relationship was worth giving up ghosthunting for.

Until Tucker, Jazz, and, surprisingly enough, Technus burst his little bubble. Turned out, Technus, who still didn’t respect him as his new ruler, seeing Valerie as a potential weakness, manipulated their relationship to keep him busy while he worked on his latest scheme.

The self-called ‘Master of Technology’ was also responsible for Valerie’s hatred of ghosts being renewed, for the destruction of her original suit followed by an upgrade to her current armor, and for Danny’s one-time experience in space (a happy coincidence).

Oh, and had he mentioned Technus’ meddling also led to Valerie breaking up with him before he could even ask her to go steady (hence the S.K.M.I.C.E.G.F. situation), giving him the most cliché excuse in the superheroing book, because she hated his ghost half more than she liked his human half?

Because it totally did.

Looking back, with Valerie’s icy glare set on him and a very menacing looking ecto-gun aimed straight at his forehead, maybe dating a ghost hunter set on killing him wasn’t his best idea. Fucking hormones…

“Look, Valerie, can we wrap this up? I’m really not in the mood.”

“Oh, we’ll wrap it up alright, Phantom,” she sneered, “with your ass in a body bag!” She shot at him again with the weapon protruding from her forearm. Seeing as the ghost only ducked the ecto-rays with relative difficulty, she changed tactics. Quickly typing down a command on her control panel, from between her fingers materialised three razor-sharp pink discs.

The moment her attention was focused elsewhere, Danny took the chance and flew off at top speed. Noticing his attempt to escape from the corner of her eye, refusing to let him get away, the Red Huntress stepped on the hidden button of her board’s body. With a whirring sound, the engines roared to life, allowing her to fly after him.

Once the Ghost Boy was within reaching distance and too busy trying to get away from her, with a swift motion of her arm, Valerie hurled the pink discs at him. At the sound of air being sliced, Danny turned his head just enough to notice the pink projectiles coming towards him from the corner of his eye. Maneuvering through the sky, he managed to dodge the first two, but as he ducked away from the second disc, the third came close enough to slice his upper arm.

Wincing in pain, not once stopping his flight, he cradled his arm to inspect the wound. Despite the oozing ectoplasm coming out of it, it was just a superficial cut. He’d live. As he registered the sudden heat approaching his back, Danny understood the only way to get rid of Valerie was fighting her.

As much as he hated fighting a friend, it was pointless to resist when said friend was trying to shoot holes into his body. And if he made the mistake of letting her get too close, he’d get caught in between her board’s forked ends, giving his chaser the perfect chance to activate the stinger and electrocute him.

“Hate to break it to you, Valerie. But I’m already dead, so body bags are pretty pointless!” Charging up his ecto-ray, hands glowing green, Danny shot in her direction, holding back just enough so Val would be forced to swirl around the sky to avoid getting hit. It was his signature move when facing off against Valerie: distract her with the need for an evasive maneuver in order to gain enough time to escape himself.

Just as he predicted, when the green rays of energy got closer to her, the Red Huntress willed her board to keep moving to the opposite direction of the blasts. What he hadn’t predicted, though, was that she’d change tactics and face the blasts head-on. The impact caused a plume of smoke to rise up in the air, hiding the girl from view.

Before he could fuss over her safety, however, Valerie rose up above him. Hunched down on her board before elegantly moving to stand tall, a smug grin on her face, she was surrounded by a bluish ghost shield coming from her preferred method of transport. He always forgot she could do that. “That’s too bad.” She said in a fake, sugary voice. “Guess I’ll just have to resign myself to seeing you fade.”

In an instant, she willed three metallic cubes to manifest around her head and shoulders. As the devices charged up, the Red Huntress gave chase to him once more.

Reacting almost a split-second too late, Danny resumed his own attempts of leaving her behind. Whenever an energy beam got too close for comfort, he either put all his years of flying to good use and miraculously managed to avoid getting hit, or he’d focus his energy on forming ecto-shields of different sizesーdepending on her ecto-rays' own intensity. The untrained observer would point out he could just turn intangible and the beams would harmlessly pass through him, but that was too simple. And fighting Val was never simple.

Even when she’d first got her gearーand by that he meant her old, non-Technus-upgraded gearーthe Red Huntress’ various weapons were all capable of hitting him even when he went intangible. Therefore, lowering his guard like that around her was like a clear invitation to get his ass whooped.

Getting frustrated, with Val still hot in his ghost-tail, he bellowed, “Would you just quit it?! I still got a mark from the last time we fought!”

Smirking darkly, Valerie forewent her cubic guns for her trusty ecto-grenade. “Then I know where to hit next.” She declared before throwing the dangerous device at him, hitting him square on his left shoulder.

As a burning pain suddenly spread through his left shoulder to the tip of his fingertips, not all was lost, for the resulting explosion had sent him flying across the sky to the asphalt, effectively putting some much needed distance from him and his pursuer.

Hands propped on the street and barely supporting his weight, Danny laboriously lifted his head up. All around him, people were either running away in fright of the impending battle or crowding the street as they pointed at him, whispering amongst themselves.

Lifting himself up to a sitting position, the halfa gently nursed his aching shoulder, wincing in pain whenever his fingertips touched the sensitive skin. Although whatever damage Valerie had managed to inflict upon him would soon be gone thanks to his enhanced healing factor, he knew he didn’t have the luxury to wait that long. Knowing the ghost hunter, she’d be around, looking for him. And the moment she found him, she’d waste no time resuming their confrontation.

The Red Huntress would never stop until the source of all her misery was finally banished to the Ghost Zone, or disposed off permanently.

Grunting in pain, Danny willed the cold of his core to spread throughout his body until it reached his hands. The moment his hand blazed a familiar, chilly blue he began caressing his suffering shoulder, the cold emanating from his fingertips a welcomed painkiller.

“Is there anything more unfair than being pummeled to a pulp when you’re actually holding back from hurting the other person?” He grunted, but his musings were cut short by another ecto-beam barely missing his head, a whiff of smoke coming from the asphalt that’d cushioned the hit.

His heart suddenly in his throat, the halfa gingerly looked up, only to find Valerie a few feet away from him, a smoking, double-cannoned ecto-bazooka resting on her shoulder, which only elicited the whispers around them to grow louder, more frantic. “Gotcha.” She said, her glare colder than his ice powers.

Adrenaline kicking his brain in overdrive, Danny frantically looked around, trying to find a way to escape that didn’t involve hurting Valerie or any of the onlookers. Argh, if only he could just turn intangible! As he futilely tried crawling away, his gloved hands moving against the asphalt floor below him, the sensation sparked an idea. Maybe turning intangible was useless against the Red Huntress’ weapons, but phasing wasn’t.

The only thing he needed was a distraction, and the whirring sound coming from the charging ecto-bazooka gave him an idea. It was reckless, but that seemed to be his thing lately, wasn’t it?

“Say goodbye, Phantom!” Valerie spat just as the weapon perched on her shoulder was done charging up, shooting a powerful blast his way.

Using the hand that was previously healing his wounds, Danny shot his own ecto-ray at the incoming projectile, causing his adversary to gasp in surprise. “Goodbye, Red!”

As the two forces came into contact with each other, under the stunned gazes of everyone present, they exploded into a blinding light that forced everyone, Valerie included, to shield their eyes. Wasting no time, Danny turned intangible, phasing through the floor and into the Amity Park sewer system. Once underground, he let his transformation drop, knowing Val’s Ghost Radar would find him otherwise, before making his way around the sewers in search of the nearest exit, his body leaning against the wall for support.

After what felt like an eternity, Valerie finally got her forearm out of her face. What was the point in having a dark-tinted visor if she could still be blinded? Once she’d regained the totality of her sight, that is to say, she no longer saw dark spots dancing around her vision, she quickly redirected her gaze to where Phantom stood.

Nothing.

Gasping, Valerie looked up to the sky. As her eyes scanned around for a black and white, flying figure, or even anything amiss in case the Ghost Boy had turned invisible, she soon realised the green-eyed spook was truly nowhere to be seen. Despite her growing frustration at losing her target, the Red Huntress quickly typed a command on her suit, hoping her Ghost Radar could still detect him. No such luck.

Growling in frustration with murder in her eyes, she jumped mid-air, summoning her hoverboard to appear right bellow her. Roaring the engines to life, she took off in direction to Elmerton, her home for the last seven years.

As she soared the skies, Valerie kept looking back and forth between her radar and her surroundings, looking for Phantom. “I was so close, damn it! Every time I think I finally have that ectoplasmic punk right where I want him, he up and disappears!” With a furious yell to the sky, she leaned on her board, using her feet to increase its speed.

Her gear had to be the only good thing that came out of her first encounter with that ghostly bastard. Even if she’d lost everything and her dad was constantly working long hours to keep her in collegeーher wonderful, incredible, genius dad, who deserved much more than just being a crammy security night guardー, at least what happened at Axion Labs all those years ago had given her two things: the gear necessary to become Amity Park’s most powerful ghost hunter, and the purpose to eliminate all bodiless apparitions from the face of the Earth.

Starting by Danny Phantom.

Valerie could only scoff at some people’s stupidity. Although most citizens had half the brains necessary to figure out Danny Phantom was a threat, there were still some who revered him as some kind of hero.

Oh, it was true. He saved the town from falling into that Ghost King’s claws, but didn’t anybody remember what happened afterwards? Because she did. Not even a week after ‘saving’ everyone from a fate worse than deathーand causing her some injuries and for her dad to both find out about her ghost-hunting escapades and forbid her from ever touching her equipment again, to add insult to injuryー, he ascended as the next Ghost King.

And people still celebrated him? Were they blind?!

It was clear that Phantom only ever fought the Ghost King, not to protect Amity Park, or whatever nonsense he kept trying to feed the public, but to dethrone him himself! He wanted that psycho’s position for himself, so he could keep terrorising the town with even less opposition than before!

“Hero my ass…” Valerie scoffed in disbelieving disgust.

But, apparently, only Valerie and the Fentons had any common sense on the matter. “Wow. Never thought I’d have anything in common with the Fentons…” she mused aloud. As much as she’d liked Danny when they were fourteen, his family was a whole different thing.

When she finally made out her apartment complex in the distance, the armored girl couldn’t help but carefully glide near their living room window, where she could see her father sleeping soundly on the couch after a long nightーtoo tired to even go to bed.

Carefully resting her gloved hand against the window glass, worriedly looking at the man who’d been her only source of comfort for as long as she could remember, her heart broke. “Don’t worry, Dad. I promise, one day Phantom’ll be mine. And then we’ll finally cash in that reward and leave this shit hole once and for all.”

With renewed determination, she went around her floor until she was right beside her own room. Due to her always leaving her bedroom window open, all she had to do was squeeze herself inside. Now standing in her room, she deactivated her suit, which disappeared in a swirl of electricity. Walking over her mirror, Valerie picked up a quasi-new set of clothes that were lying on her chair. “But first, let’s pay that college tuition. It won’t look good if I’m late on my first day.”

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

Phasing through the walls, Danny stumbled into his sister’s room. He would’ve fallen face-first on the floor hadn’t it been for his hands instinctively stopping the fall.

Her head snapping to the distinctive sound of a ‘thud’, Jazz immediately swirled around on her computer chair. “A little help?” Danny grunted tiredly.

Gasping at the state her little brother was in, the redhead all but threw herself at him in order to inspect any possible wounds, only to recoil in disgust when she caught a sniff of him, pinching her nose. “Ew! What happened to you to smell that horridly?! What did you do, die for real?”

“I phased through the floor and into the sewers.” The black-haired boy dryly corrected, not appreciating his sister’s skewed priorities. “Now, if you would be so kind as to help me out...”

Jazz at least had the decency to blush. Offering a hand to her brother, she helped him stand up before guiding him to her bed. Then she lowered him on top of it and resumed her previous inspection of him. She jumped back in surprise at Danny’s sudden, sharp inhale of breath when she accidentally grazed his left shoulder.

In an instant, she was basically in his face, fussing over him. “Danny? Are you okay? Is there anything wrong with your shoulder?”

“Everything’s fiー”, he stopped short when he registered her worried look. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I saw Valerie today.”

“Oh, no.” The eldest Fenton kid lamented, knowing where the conversation was headed.

“Yeah...I tried losing her, but in the meantime she landed a few mean punches on me...figuratively speaking, of course.”

“So I’m guessing your shoulder cushioned a nasty one?”

He nodded, barely turning his head to look at her. “Ecto-grenade.” He said simply, and Jazz cringed in sympathy. “Yeah. I numbed the pain a little by applying some cold with my powers, but a few real painkillers might do me some good until it’s properly healed.”

“Sure.” With a nod, Jazz got up from the bed and crossed over to the other side of the room, where her closet was located. Opening the door and standing on her tiptoes to reach the higher shelf, she grabbed her hidden first aid kit before setting it down on her desk. “Any other injuries I should know about?” She asked as she rummaged through her supplies, taking a small plastic jar with Ibuprofen from it.

“Just a superficial cut on my arm. It’s almost completely healed now, but putting a band-aid on it just in case wouldn’t hurt.”

Flopping herself down next to her baby brother again, medical supplies in hand, Jazz helped Danny out of his t-shirt. When she saw the burns on his shoulder, though, she couldn’t help but wince. “Are you sure you don’t want me to put some bandages on it, Danny? It looks pretty bad…”

The halfa sighed. He knew his sister would fuss over his health; she always did. “It’ll heal, Jazz. It always does.” Then he caught her expression from the corner of his eye. “...but if it’ll make you feel better, I suppose a few bandages just in case don’t so bad.”

Nodding readily, the aqua-eyed woman went to quickly retrieve some of the aforementioned bandages from her kit. Then she proceeded to wrap them around her brother’s left shoulder and pectorals. When Danny sent her a questioning look, she just shrugged and said, “Just in case.”

With his shoulder taken care of, Danny, almost begrudgingly, stretched his arm out to her, letting her inspect his cut. Even though he was right and it was just a flesh wound, it was still important to clean it. Pouring some disinfectant on a bunch of cotton balls, with the help of tweezers she gently dubbed the cotton against his skin, prompting Danny to wince in displeasure.

She rolled her eyes at his childishness, annoyed. “Oh, come on! You literally just faced a ghost huntress, walked around the sewers for who knows how long, and this is something to complain about? Don’t be such a baby!”

��Hey, you have no right to complain about me complaining! You’re not the one who’s routinely going through some kind of medical procedure.” And he’d never want her to go through one; not even a simple check up.

“Whatever,” she said as she put the band-aid on. She dusted her hands off before smiling proudly at him. “All done. Now, go get some rest before it’s time to go and you have to shower.”

Danny pouted. “Do we still have to go? Jazz, I’m injured…” He tried to bargain with his best sad, puppy-dog look.

Jazz wasn’t buying, though. “Should’ve thought about that before you assured me your wounds would heal soon. Come on, Danny, you know I’ve been dying to try this place out and you promised to take me.”

“Can’t you take Tucker with you while I rest, instead?”

“No, because,” she lifted three fingers up, ready to count her options off, “one, he’s not my brother, and I’d like to go with my brother. Two, if you turn your head to my nightstand ever so slightly, you’ll see it’s only 12:30 PM on a Saturday; we’re leaving at sevenーyou’ll have plenty of time to rest. And three...can you really imagine Tucker stepping foot in that sort of place even if I bribed him with $1000?”

Danny visibly deflated at that. “No…”

“Then it’s settled.” Jazz declared. “Go to your room and rest. I’ll tell Mum and Dad you came while they were working on the lab and that you’re tired from an all-nighter of working on an assignment.”

“You’d think they’d be surprised I’m not getting straight A’s with all the times we’ve used the studying excuse on them…” Danny muttered as he left his sister's room.

Standing against the door, Jazz shrugged. “Mum thinks spending so many nights awake studying is actually counter-productive, so…”

Danny chuckled before standing in front of his room’s door. Before going in, however, he called out to her. “Uh, Jazz?”

“Hm?”

“You’re the best.” He smiled at her.

She smiled back. “Anytime, Baby Brother.”

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

A deafening roar echoed throughout the manor. Her heart pounding, Sam ran as fast as she could along the corridors, barely registering where she was going. She took so many turns around the halls she lost count, all portraits and decorations merging together so it’d look like she was running through the same, never ending hallway. But she didn’t care. All that mattered was getting to the origin of the noise.

When she finally arrived before the gates guarding the bloodcurdling sounds, she skidded to a halt so abruptly she almost gave herself whiplash. Now that she was closer to the source, Sam could also make out the sound of screaming coming from inside the room. And when she noticed just where the roaring and screaming was coming from, her heart all but stopped.

The training room.

The place where the younger members of the clan practiced and perfected their magic. Whatever happened there now had a group of kids trapped!

She had to do something!

But, being the queen and therefore not being able to afford anything happening to her in fear of unleashing a civil war, she’d promised she’d wait for Wilhelmina to arrive, or at the very least, for Paulina and Star to support her.

Anxiously, her eyes kept darting back and forth in all directions, hoping against hope that someone, anyone, would soon come to help. They couldn’t risk their kids’ lives like that. Suddenly, the roars and screams only got louder, accompanied by the sounds of thrashing and the crunching of wood being broken.

Whatever it was that was going on, it was mayhem!

The minutes felt like hours and there was still no sight of her Minister of War or her handmaidens. Fear gripping at her heart, terrified for the sake of the students trapped behind those doors, Sam threw all caution to the wind. Willing her mind to clear so she could establish a proper connection with her anima, the Witch Queen cupped her hands together in front of her chest, taking advantage of the extra dose of adrenaline to fuel her essence. As soon as she felt the familiar pull of power, she opened her now blazing, violet eyes and shouted, “Aries!”

From her open palms a host of purple light began to take form. In the blink of an eye, the spell solidified, shooting forwards to the gates and effectively crushing them by sheer force. As the dust resulting from the impact cleared, allowing Sam to finally see what was going on, all she could do was gasp.

Standing tall and imposing in the middle of the room, surrounded by a group of terrified students who were hiding from it in the furthest corner of the classroom behind a row of desks, a gigantic iguana, the size of that dragon ghost that sometimes haunted the town, roared as it shoved tables out of its wayーtheir now spilled contents cluttered the floor.

When the giant reptile’s eye landed on her, obviously taking notice of the explosion of light, Sam felt her blood run cold. And yet, in spite of the danger, she preferred having the beast targeting her than causing harm to the girls. As the creature threateningly stomped in the direction she was in, the young queen formulated a plan.

If she could just keep the iguana distracted long enough until Wilhelmina came, she could win enough time to allow the kids to escape. But she’d have to tell them her plan as well.

“And I know how.” She mused aloud with a smirk on her face. She was just glad she was currently wearing pants instead of an extravagant dress.

As she waited for the reptile to get closer to her, biding her time, Sam intertwined her fingers save for her indexes and thumbs, which were in contact with each other. Then, just as the iguana’s claw was about to strike, she mimicked the action of a gun shooting with her arms. “Ignis!” She cried out.

From her fingertips she kept shooting energy beams at the monster as she ran in the direction the girls were in. When one of her beams hit the iguana in the eye, causing it to cry out in pain and, most importantly, to be distracted, Sam quickly slid down to behind the remaining desksーwhere the girls were.

“Girls, are you okay?!” She whispered-shouted as soon as she caught sight of them. They were a small group, six girls around the ages of 10-12.

One of them, a brunette with green eyesーViolet, if Sam wasn’t wrongー, spoke up on behalf of her friends. “Your Majesty! Oh, thank Goodness...Yeah, we’re fine. As soon as that thing appeared we ran and hid here.”

The violet-eyed witch sighed in relief. “Thank God. Alright, Violet, right?” The girl nodded, the smile on her face was so wide due to the Queen remembering her name, one would almost forget they were all in danger. “Right. I need you to tell me how this happened. And why are you guys all alone, shouldn’t an adult be with you at all times?”

Lola, a shy girl with black hair and glasses, and a distant relative of Paulina, answered instead. “Uh, well, we-we weren’t alone, your Highness.”

She’d have to tell them some other time that title was for princes and princesses, not queens. But first, saving their lives. “What do you mean, Lola? Who was with you?”

“Wilhelmina.”

“Wilhelmina?!” she repeated, a little too loudly. Wincing at the realisation, she hushed the girls in case the iguana had heard them. Whimpering in fright, the kids got closer to her, and she unconsciously wrapped her arms around them. After a few minutes and no response from the monster, Sam let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Okay. Girls, can you explain to me why Wilhelmina isn’t here? It’s not like her to leave students unsupervised.”

“Class was ending, anyway.” Violet explained. “She said she had something to do and that she trusted us to clean everything up before we left.”

Sam did not like where this was going. “And the giant iguana?”

“We don’t know.” Lola said, then she pointed at one of her friends, a blonde named Tamara. “We were talking about the familiars we’d like to have when we completed our Rite of Passage while we were finishing brewing today’s potion when Tammy said she’d wish to have an iguana. And, boom!”

“Is that true, Tammy?” Sam questioned the girl.

Tammy nodded, tearing up. “Y-yes…I-I said...I-I’d like...a-an iguana and...and then...the p-potion...started b-boiling...and o-out of n-nowhere...that...that monster appeared!” She admitted between cries.

Panicking, both because of the little girl crying and the potential danger of being discovered, Sam scooted closer to her, wiping her tears away with her hands. “Shh, shh! It’s okay, Tammy. It’s not your faultーthese things happen!”

“R-really?”

The queen nodded, smiling reassuringly at her. “Really. This sort of thing happens all the time. You’ll learn what it is soon enough.”

“So I’m not in trouble?”

“No, you’re not.”

Before Sam could so much as blink, the girl threw her arms at her, hugging her. The raven-haired witch stiffened at the contact, not used to dealing with physical affection...or kids. After a minute, though, she relaxed and returned the embrace. Tammy needed comfort at the moment.

“What do we do now, your Majesty?” Violet asked, bringing her queen back to Earth.

“Is that thing going to eat us?” Lola insisted, looking positively spooked.

“No, no. None of that!” Sam assured them, letting go of Tammy. “Because I have a plan.” She motioned with her hands for the girls to get closer to her before continuing. “First of all, don’t worry. Iguanas are herbivores; they don’t eat meat, let alone humans! So listen closely, any minute now Wilhelmina, my ladies-in-waiting, and whoever else they’d called for help will appear through that door. I’ll share my plan with them and while we keep the iguana busy, you’ll run away from here. Understood?”

The group nodded readily. “Good.”

“Your Majesty, where are you?!” A familiar voice called out to her.

Crawling quietly, Sam dedicated one last look at the younger witches. “Remember, don’t move until I tell you to go, got it?”

“Got it.” The six of them said in unison.

With a nod of her own, Sam crawled out of her hiding place before standing up and breaking into a full run to the direction the voice came fromーapparently, it was Susan who’d called out to her, accompanying her mentor. The latter, as well as Star and Paulina, were blocking the reptile’s exit.

“Ignis!” repeating her actions from earlier, she shot another energy beam at the beast, before standing beside her subjects.

“What is that thing!?” Paulina asked, looking completely revolted.

“It’s the result of a spell gone awry.” The Witch Queen answered. “A girl got distracted while brewing a potion and this is the result.”

“What kind of distraction?” Star raised an eyebrow.

“What do you think?” Sam replied as if that was all the answer she needed.

Apparently, it was, because nobody else said a word until Wilhelmina’s hoarse voice broke the silence. “Your Majesty! What are you doing here!? You’re supposed to wait for help to come!”

The Goth couldn’t be bothered to pretend she cared about the protocol right now, especially not after discovering her fellow Council member had left a group of witches in-training completely unsupervised. “Not now, Wilhelmina! The kids are still here; we’ve gotta help them escape!”

“And how are we going to do that?” Star let out, trying to hold down the barrier of fiery, orange energy she’d created to prevent the beast from leaving the training room.

“I have a plan.” Sam turned her attention to the potion-maker in-training. “Susan! Do you have one of your Minisize Me potions on you?”

The Asian teenager reached for her bandolier and grabbed a spherical jar in her hand. “Always, your Majesty!”

“Good! While Star holds the barrier down, Wilhelmina, Paulina, and I will try to restrain our little friend long enough for the girls to escape. As soon as the last girl has left the room, you have to throw the potion at the monster. It’s the only way to take care of it!” She then turned to her lady-in-waiting. “Star, the moment this thing’s all tied up, you let your barrier go so the girls can leave, got it?”

“Yes, my Queen!” Both girls exclaimed in unison, readying themselves.

“Very well. Wilhelmina, Paulina,” she called out to them, “you take care of binding the reptile with me. Wilhelmina, since you’ve got the potions, you take care of its hind legs and tail; Paulina, you tie its left paw down. Ready?” Getting twin nods from her fellow witches, they all charged against the monster.

As Sam and Paulina projected their respective animas in the form of a lasso with a scream of “Conjunctionis ligaveris!”, Wilhelmina used her own essence to propel herself above the beast, landing nimbly behind it. While the young queen and the Latina struggled to keep the reptile in place, their purple and soft pink animas tied tightly around its front paws, the potion-maker rummaged through her trusty bag, looking for her BubbleBomb potion. At the same time as she tried to dodge the animal’s large tail.

Maybe Susan was right and she did need to organise her collection in a pair of twin bandoliers, just like her apprentice.

Just as she was beginning to get frustrated, her finger brushed against a sticky substance. A familiar, sticky substance. Crying out in triumph, she got the jar with the sticky, pink slime from inside of her bag, just in time to be lifted up in the air by the force behind the collision of the iguana’s tail hitting the ground. Using her momentum, Wilhelmina smashed the bottle against the floor, which then exploded in a bubble of pink slime, effectively restraining the giant reptile’s movements.

“Girls, now!” Sam cried out, struggling to keep her focus long enough to keep the iguana down for much longer.

The kids didn’t need to be told twice. As soon as their queen gave the order, they got out from their hiding spot and ran towards the door, where Star was waiting for them. Upon seeing them, she lowered her barrier, exhaling in between pants due to the physical exertion, thus allowing the group of kids to leave the room safe and sound.

Smiling at their retrieving forms, Star cupped a hand around her mouth to call out to the, now, youngest witch in the room. “Susan, it’s all up to you now!”

Determined to not let her queen and mentor down, Susan ran towards the closest wall before leaping in the air feet-first towards it. The moment her feet came into contact with its surface, the teenager propelled herself to rise high above the ginormous beast. As soon as she was within optimal range, she hurled the spherical jar at it, which broke against the iguana’s hard-as-steel scales. In an instant, a cloud of turquoise, twinkling smoke enveloped the beast.

Coughing and clearing the air around her with a wave of her hand, Sam dared look up to the direction the large creature once stood at. To her immense relief, she saw nothing. So willing her magic to deactivate, she walked over to where the, now, normal-sized iguana was.

Smiling, she picked the lizard up. “You gave us quite the scare, right, little guy?”

“What do you intend to do with it, your Majesty?” Susan asked as soon as she nimbly landed on her feet the same way a professional gymnast would.

“Why don’t you keep it? I believe you’ve mentioned Duke Scalynton needed a friend a few times now.” She suggested as she handed the iguana to the potion-maker in-training.

Looking down at the iguana in her hands, she turned to her mentor. “Would that be alright, Ms. Redring?”

“Perfectly so, Susan. Don’t worry.” Wilhelmina assured her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “You did well today.”

Susan smiled brightly at that. Sam, on the contrary, could only frown at her. “Wilhelmina, the kids told me you were supposed to be looking after them, but you left them to clean everything by themselves before classes were officially over.”

The Minister of War remained impassive. “My apologies, your Majesty. I had other matters to attend to that required my immediate attention, and since today’s potion was rather simple, I supposed they’d be fine on their own for a few minutes.”

“So because you had better things to do you completely ignored one of our most important rules and risked the lives of six little girls in the process?” Sam seethed, arms crossed, her eyes blazing a dangerous, dark violet for a second.

Wilhelmina narrowed her own eyes on her. “Careful, your Majesty. I don’t believe you’re in any position to say anything. Seeing as how often you completely disregard protocol; or have you already forgotten that you should have waited for back up before facing off against the threat yourself, hm?”

Sam balled her hands into fists at her sides, knowing, and hating, that she had her there. Turning around to leave the room, she spat. “Just, don’t let it happen again.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, my Queen.” The brunette let out, almost sinisterly.

Susan was petting her new pet when she noticed a shadow casted over her. Looking up, she almost gasped. “You did well today, girl. Just, do me a favour and keep that thing away from me.” Paulina told her with a smile, keeping a respectable distance between herself and the iguana in the teenager’s arms.

Susan’s mind, other times sharp and focused, was suddenly completely blank. Mouth hanging open and eyes blinking at random intervals, she was sure she was gaping at the beautiful woman before her. “Uh...I...I mean…,” she stammered, “y-you look good, too! I-I mean! You did good, too. Obviously. Ah! Not like you don’t look good, too! You always look good! Just...you know, yeah…” She finished lamely.

Oh, why couldn’t the iguana have eaten her before she spouted all that nonsense?!

“Okay…” The Latina drawled. “Well, I gotta go. See ya.”

“Yeah, see ya…” The teenage girl sighed dreamily, before realising what she was doing and facepalming herself.

Now that they were outside of the training room and accompanying Sam to her quarters, for they had to help her get ready, Paulina eyed her best friend’s knowing grin in distaste. “What?” She snapped.

“Somebody’s got a crush on you!” The blonde teased in a sing-song voice, the shit-eating grin never leaving her face.

But the Latina just huffed. “Please! And who doesn’t? I’ve had my fair share of admirers since we were in ninth grade, Star. Don’t make such a big deal out of it.”

“That may be true,” Star conceded, “but I think this is the first time a younger girl’s crushing on you and you’re actually nice to her. The Pauli from back in Senior year would’ve crushed her dreams in a heartbeat.” She commented offhandedly, ignoring the look of pure horror flashing through their Queen’s face.

The blue-eyed beauty just rolled her eyes. Since she wasn’t used to being on the receiving end, she often forgot how ruthless her best friend could be when she was met with some quality gossip. “I’m not eighteen anymore, Star! And Susan’s a good kid, of course I’m not going to be a bitch to her.”

“So you like her back?” The blonde asked, now feeling apprehensive.

“Are you crazy?!” Paulina snapped at her, turning her face in her direction so fast she almost gave herself whiplash. “First of all, she’s seventeen! I might like to party, but I’d never date a minor.” She sniffed in displeasure. Seriously, what was this girl thinking?!

Her fellow handmaiden sighed in relief. “Thank Goodness, I was actually worried for a second. Just...try letting her down gently, okay?”

“Who do you take me for? Besides, even if she were our age, which, again, she’s not, I just don’t swing that way.”

Star let out a hollow laugh. “Don’t try selling me the ‘I don’t swing that way excuse’, I’ve seen you throw your principles out of the window for the sake of screwing people over. And about letting her down gently, admit it Pauli, you can be a bit of a bitch.”

Sam, not daring to say a word, could only furrow her brow at what her subjects were saying. “What the Hell?”

Ignoring their queen’s silent judgement, Paulina gasped in surprise. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

Rather than backing off given her friend’s reaction, Star only snorted. “Oh, come on. Don’t pretend you don’t remember that one time in ninth grade that you agreed to go to homecoming with a complete loser just so Dash could play a joke on him.” Then, she turned pensive. “Hm, now that I think about it, we never did pull the prank on him...I wonder why.” She muttered to herself.

Paulina’s mouth made an ‘o’ shape at the reminder. “Oooooh, that’s right! Yes, I did totally do that. Such a shame the guy was a total loser; he at least had decent taste in jewelry.”

The two kept chattering away until they noticed their queen’s appalled expression, her jaw hanging low. Giggling sheepishly, Paulina tried to save some face, Star nodding with a forced smile beside her. “That was a long time ago. We’ve grown up, we promise.”

Blinking slowly at them, Sam forced her mouth shut. Doing a dusting-her-hands-off motion, she symbolically separated herself from anything having to do with their high school lives. “Something tells me we wouldn’t have got along growing up.”

“Then isn’t it great we only met outside of high school?” Star offered.

“I think I’d much rather you just talk to me either about things going on inside the manor, or whatever crazy shit you’re up to at college.” The violet-eyed witch insisted as she turned her doorknob to let them in. For that day’s appointment she wanted to spice things up a little, but she still wanted a simple look that matched with her usual self, hence why she needed the girls’ help.

“Oh. My. God!” Paulina exclaimed, raising her palms up as she entered the room. “You will not believe the drama that’s stirring at APU right now!”

Star, who was already seated on one of Sam’s chairs, made a sound of appreciation. “Ooooh! Do tell.”

As Sam went over to her closet and began to randomly pick up different clothes to ask the girl’s opinion onーt-shirts, jeans, skirts, dresses even…ーPaulina went on with her retelling, she and Star sporadically putting a stop on their conversation to give their queen some feedback. “Remember Tiffany? That two-faced, bitchy classmate of mine who’s been totally jealous of me since, like, forever?”

“Tiffany is a rather stereotypically bitchy name.” Sam commented, her focus on two different t-shirts. “As in, high school queen bee, cheerleader captain kind of bitchy.”

“I was a high school queen bee, cheerleader captain, Sam.” Paulina deadpanned.

“Oh!” Sam faulted, biting her lip in embarrassment as she wondered how she’d fix that one. “Well, your name is not stereotypically bitchy...Tiffany is. I mean, how many high school chick flick villains are dumb blondes called Brittany, or Tiffany, or Cassidy…?”

“She does have a point.” Star conceded, propping her elbow against the chair’s back.

With her index and thumb cupping her chin, the Latina ‘hmmed’ in acknowledgement. “Fair enough. Anyway, Sandra told me that Luka told her that Eliza told him that Tiffany’s out to get me ‘cause she’s so jealous it’s ripping her apart.”

As her ladies-in-waiting turned down her latest outfit, Sam arched an eyebrow, not following the conversation. “But didn’t you just say she’s always been jealous of you? What’s new about that?”

“What’s new is that now she’s jealous of me because Brad Carmichael, her ex-boyfriend with whom she broke up because he was dating a girl from Elmerton University behind her backーnot like she’s been a model girlfriend herself, if you know what I meanー, is apparently into me. And she can’t stand it.”

“But are you into Brad?” Star questioned, while Sam was busier wondering how she even managed to keep track of what Paulina was talking about in the first place. She’d already forgotten the guy’s name was Brad, for fuck’s sake! Her best guess was that keeping up with the latest gossip was some sort of ‘popular girl’ superpower.

Paulina let herself flop down on Sam’s bed with a noncommittal sound coming from her throat. “I mean, Brad’s cute, but I’m sort of seeing Matthew at the moment you know?”

“Sort of seeing?” Sam echoed.

“Yeah, he wants us to go steady but, like, I don’t know if I want to tie myself down to anyone right now, you know? I just don’t think I’m ready to be ‘Matthew’s girlfriend.’ But I know that if I tell him that, he’ll think I want to stop going out altogether, when I just don’t want to rush to label what we have. That’s all.”

“Why do you even have to become ‘Matthew’s girlfriend’? Why can’t he be ‘Paulina’s boyfriend’?” For a moment there, Sam worried the feminist inside her had ruined the conversation, if their silence was any indication, until Paulina, almost automatically, moved to a sitting position, looking like she’d just had a spiritual awakening.

“OMG, you’re so right! “ She exclaimed. “If Matthew can’t accept being labeled my boyfriend, then he’s not worthy of my time. Period. Thanks for the advice, Sam.”

“Uh, you’re welcome?” Sam said, feeling unsure. “Now, could you guys please help me get ready? ‘Cause I still don’t know what to wear…”

Both ladies-in-waiting exchanged a glance, before shrugging. Star was the one who voiced their opinion. “The clothes you have in your hands right now are fine. Just combine them with your usual look and you’ve got your casual, yet original, outfit.”

Looking down at the items in hand, Sam had to admit, they really seemed perfect. “Thanks, girls. You two are the best.”

“We know.” They said in unison.

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

The Verde Que te Quiero Verde was the latest rage in vegetarian restaurants. The establishment was owned by a couple of elderly Mexican immigrants who, per their grandson’s suggestion, had given the typical Tex-Mex food a vegan spin.

All websites reviewing the place gave nothing but praise to the meals and service, and about half of the comments recommended asking for their nachos with guacamole and vegan cheese. Its prices were also known for being very reasonable.

‘Lowly’ Mexican food turned vegan and exorbitant-prices free, the kind of place Pamela Manson would rather die than step foot in.

Which was why Sam was so thankful that Saturday night it was just her dad and her, for her mother was busy background checking anyone who wanted to rent the manor for the upcoming Halloween.

Her dad and her were already seated and looking over the menus, but she couldn’t help being distracted by her surroundings. Despite the more modern take, the Verde Que te Quiero Verde resembled the typical Mexican hacienda, with its white-chalk walls, the red tile roofs, its arches… The restaurant was even a two-story building whose second floor, which held even more tables, had balconies offering a nice view of the fountain in the middle of the room and tables surrounding it below.

It was positively lovely.

And yet...Sam couldn’t quite enjoy it as much as she’d like.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was definitely off with Wilhelmina. Leaving a group of inexperienced, little girls at their mercy while they performed magic? What was she thinking?! She had no idea how lucky she was, had anything happened to any of the girls and she would’ve been put to trial, leading to losing her position as Council member, at best, or to being expelled from the coven altogether, at worst.

Subconsciously, Sam gripped her menu a little tighter. Wilhelmina was already around when she was a kid and Grandma Ida was still queen. Back then, she remembered, she gave off this strict and stern vibe, even more so than Margaret with her by-the-book nature. But ever since she ascended to the throne, her strictiness had turned into outright arrogance.

Back when she was fourteen and had just volunteered herself as the next queen, Wilhelmina seemed the less willing to give in. She was the quickest to point out her age and inexperience, and Margaret and the, then, newly appointed Delilah miraculously managed to get their fellow member to give her a chance. If just barely.

Even know, after seven years of devout sacrifice in the name of the Amity Park Clan, that frustrating pain in the butt still hadn’t let go of her reservations towards her; often making snide comments that casted doubts on her leadershipーlike the one from earlier…ー, or looking over her shoulder with an air of superiority.

All that, Sam could, begrudgingly, put up with. But putting innocent kids in harm��s way and then having the gall to act all smug on her?! What if Phantom had been right? What if there really were witches up to no good right under her nose? What if…?

“Sammy?” Her dad’s voice cut through her thoughts like a knife cut through butter.

“Huh?” She responded, oh, so eloquently.

“Are you okay? I’ve been calling you for a while now and you haven’t answered until now. Also, it looks like you’ve tried to strangle your menu over some sort of terrible crime…” He pointed at the crumbled piece of paper in her hands to demonstrate his point.

Looking down and noticing the mess she’d made of the poor aforementioned piece of paper, she set it down gently with a sheepish smile on her face, “I’m fine, Dad. Just...thinking.”

“About what?”

“Stuff.” At her dad’s questioning, raised eyebrow she elaborated. “Frustrating stuff.”

“Kiddo, please, enter a literary contest; you’re so eloquent and articulate.” Jeremy deadpanned, setting his own menu down and propping his chin on his intertwined hands.

Sam rolled her eyes, letting out a hollow laugh. “Hilarious, Dad. Aren’t you supposed to be the preppy and optimistic one of the two?”

“I am.” He agreed. “But I’m also a Manson and your Grandma’s son. So you could say snarking runs in the family.”

Parents looking as smug and self-satisfied as her dad did at that moment should be illegal. Crossing her arms with a scowl, Sam slouched on her seat. “Whatever.”

Jeremy just shook his head fondly at his daughter. “You’re lucky your mother isn’t here right now, young lady. Otherwise, she would scold you on your posture.”

The mere mention of her mother made her straighten up, reflexively.

“But now seriously, kiddo. What’s the matter? You know you can talk to your old man about anything.” He offered her an encouraging smile.

Unfortunately, his readiness to be there for her only made her heart sank. No, I can’t, she wanted to say, but instead opted for, “I’m...having trouble with a...with a classmate.” She lied, hating herself for it. “I was elected as team leader, but she’s never quite been able to accept it. Maybe she wanted the position herself, maybe she just doesn’t think I’m good for the job...I don’t know. All I know is that she makes no effort in hiding her displeasure.

“Which, okay. I can take it, I guess. I mean, one more person who doesn’t like me! Boy is that old news...But she’s made a mistake recently and she didn’t even apologise; she just rubbed my own mistakes in my face. And I...I don’t know what to do, Dad.”

Jeremy stayed quiet for a minute, just observing his daughter with a keen eye. Maybe saying he and Sam were close was a little far-fetched; Pamela and, surprisingly enough, his mother had always insisted on signing her up for a million extracurricular activities growing upーironic, when one took the fact that she’d also been homeschooled for most of her life into consideration. But he’d learned long ago to not question it, after all, their Sammy had turned out okay and very capable in the end.

He had to admit, he didn’t always understand her, either. Like her interest in the occult, her love for loud, unsavory bands with questionable taste in names, or her insistence on being identified as a Goth since she was twelve. As a man used to making his wife happy with diamonds the size of strawberries, giving his daughter spiked collars for her birthday left him feeling a little queasy. But, hey, if it made her happy… As long as she didn’t join a cult he was golden.

But there were still moments when even Sam, his strong-willed, independent, confident baby girl, felt vulnerable against the cruel world she lived in. And it was in those moments when he had to take the lead and be the responsible authority figure in the relationship. Moments like now.

Reaching across the table, he rested his hand atop of hers, directing her attention to him. “Sometimes people will try to make our lives difficult, but we mustn’t let that stop us from doing what we think it’s right. So your friend doesn’t think you’re doing a good job leading the team? Then let her think that! If it’s only one person who feels that way, then she’s probably just trying to mess with you.

“But if the other people in your group feel the same way, then maybe you should take a moment to reevaluate things. Don’t be afraid to ask this girl about her opinion. Who knows? Maybe she does have something valuable to contribute.”

Alright, this was all great advice for actual teamwork, but it didn’t apply to her problem. She was trying to rule a coven, not decorate the gym for the upcoming prom. “What are you trying to say, Dad?”

“I just think you shouldn’t take everything on by yourself, Sammy.” He said as he patted her hand, then he leaned back on his chair at the same time as he picked his forgotten menu up. “Now, do you know what you want to eat, or should we wait a few more minutes?”

Sam couldn’t help sending her dad a small smile, even if it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She was about to answer when she caught sight of something over his shoulder that made her breath hitch. “Holy shit!”

Jeremy’s head shot up at that. “Samantha, language!”

Uh, oh. He used her full name. “Uh, sorry about that, Dad.” She apologised sheepishly, before standing up and pointing behind him, much to Jeremy’s horror. What was up with this girl’s manners today!? “It’s just that I know the person who’s just entered the restaurant.”

Turning around much more discreetly than Sam, Jeremy raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “You mean the people talking to the maître d’?”

Completely unaware of the fact that they were the focus of the conversation of two of the restaurant’s patrons, Jazz and Danny stood at the entrance, talking to the maître d’. Well, Jazz was talking to the maître d’, looking almost unhinged, Danny was just praying they wouldn’t be kicked out just because his sister had chosen now, of all times, to act as unreasonable as their dad.

“What do you mean there’s no table available?!” She screeched, causing a few customers to turn around to look at her and her brother to look away in embarrassment. “I made the reservation almost two weeks ago! Fenton, Jazz Fenton. Come on, I highly doubt there’s many more Fentons in Amity Park.”

The man tending to them had to be the most patient person on the planet, Danny figured. Or the most emotionless. “My apologies, Miss. But there really is no reservation under a Jazz Fenton.”

“Maybe you put it under another member of the family?” Danny offered before addressing the headwaiter himself. “How about under Danny Fenton?”

The employee looked through his agenda before shaking his head.

“And Maddie Fenton?” Jazz tried.

Again, the man shook his head no.

“Jack Fenton?” She was starting to grow desperate now.

And, again, no such luck.

Watching as Jazz’s eye started twitching, Danny genuinely feared he’d have to restrain his sister from doing something crazy when the sound of someone clearing their throat caught everyone’s attention. Looking at the direction the sound came from, the Fenton siblings could only gape at the sight of a middle-aged man with perfectly coiffed, blond hair, dark blue eyes, and sharply dressed with a crochet vest, light, khaki pants, and black dress shoes standing before them.

The mysterious man turned to the maître d’. “It’s quite alright, my good sir. They’re with us.”

The emotionless man suddenly developed a personality, for he smiled brightly at the other man. “Oh, I see! Would you like some extra chairs, sir?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Of course, we’ll bring some extra chairs, utensils, and menus to your table momentarily.” And with that the waiter left them alone.

The blond turned to them, a welcoming smile on his face. “Don’t be shy, you two. Come sit with us.” And, by some sort of spell, they followed after him.

In the meantime, brother and sister shared a questioning glance. They were both obviously curious as to who these ‘us’ were. Clearing his throat, Danny ventured. “Um, excuse me sir, but do we know you?”

The mystery, well-dressed man just laughed cordially. “Oh, no. You certainly don’t. As a matter of fact, I don’t know you, either. But my daughter seems to know you, young man.”

Before Danny could so much as ask what he was even talking about, the man stopped beside a table, motioning with his hand to his companion. The halfa almost fell flat on his butt in astonishment.

Getting up from her chair was Sam. Although she had a different outfit than usual, her style was still mostly casual, as opposed to her companion’s preppy clothes.

She was wearing a simple black t-shirt with a drawing of a purple rose on it (why was it so familiar?); a neon green skirt with a spiderweb pattern; a spiked collar with a purple pendant was around her neck; and she wore fingerless, black fishnet gloves. Other than that she looked the same as always. She still had her trademark combat boots and thigh-length, purple stockings on, and her hair was still long and black on one side, while the other was shaved with purple undertones; a green ponytail in a purple scrunchie sticking up.

“Sam, is that you?” He breathed out.

The girl in question could barely believe her eyes. Right in front of her was Danny. She was almost stunned she could recognise him practically anywhere. But then she rationalised; of course she’d recognise him! He looked practically the same as always! With his messy, jet-black hair falling down his face; a pair of blue jeans, his favourite red sneakers...The only thing different about him was the hoodie he was wearing, really. It was mostly white, except for its red cuffs, zipper, draw strings, and the circle it had plastered on its front.

...well, the only thing that was different was his hoodie and the girl beside him, now that she took a better look.

She was around her height, but she seemed slightly older. She was a redhead sporting a cute pixie cut, with a lovely face and striking, aqua eyes. The girl was wearing a square, teal plaid dress over a white, long-sleeved shirt, and black tights with white boots. Her outfit was perfectly coordinated, except for a brown, leather shoulder bag that seemed oddly out of place.

Sam was sure she had never seen her before, but she was just so familiar…

Noticing she was up and Danny was still waiting for her answer, she hurriedly went over to him to shake his and his companion’s hands. “Yes! Yes, it’s me, Danny. And...I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but you are…?”

“Oh, I’m Jazz!” The mysterious girl perked up. “I’m Danny’s sister.”

“Oh, she’s just his sister,” Sam thought to herself, relieved. Wait, relieved? What did she have to be worried about? She thought best to shake those feelings off and stow them for later. “Nice to meet you. I’m Sam, a friend of Danny’s.”

Jazz’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh, so you’re Sam! Danny’s told me about you.”

“He has?” Both Mansons asked, but for completely different reasons. And only one of them knew exactly why they asked.

Just as they were introducing themselves, the restaurant’s staff came and set the two extra chairs and items down. His senses tinglingーonly it wasn’t his Ghost Sense, but a sense of danger he couldn’t quite put his finger onー, Danny focused his attention on the other man at the table, who seemed to be glaring daggers at him, for some reason. He swallowed the uncomfortable lump in his throat. “I’m sorry, sir. But I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

The blond plastered a smile on his face as they finally sat down. To anyone else, it would’ve seemed friendly, but to Danny it looked oddly sinister. “Oh, my bad. I’m Jeremy, Jeremy Manson. I’m Sam’s father.”

While a primal fear clutched Danny’s heart in an iron grip, Jazz audibly gasped. “Wait, Jeremy Manson? As in, the Mansons?”

His sister’s astonished expression, as well as Sam’s mortified one, enabled him to ignore his sudden worries for a minute in favour of his curiosity. “You know them?” He asked his sister.

In turn, Jazz just scoffed, looking away from him in exasperation. Of course not only would Danny have no idea who he hung out with, he also had to embarrass them right in front of the two people in question. “Danny, I think you’re literally the only person in all of Amity Park who doesn’t know them. Ironically…” Seeing as he still didn’t get the hint, she gave up. “The Mansons are the descendants of Izzy Manson, the inventor of the machine that wraps cellophane around chopsticks, and therefore, they oversee the patent.”

“So, you’re saying…”

Ugh, somebody put her out of her misery, goddamnit! “She’s saying we’re rich, Danny. Very. Stinking. Rich.” Sam deadpanned. Well, there went that little piece of information she didn’t like her friends finding out about. Although, a part of her was about to burst out laughing at the way the boy’s eyes all but popped out of their sockets.

Danny, on his part, didn’t know what was more shocking. The fact that Sam came from a wealthy family, or the fact that she, a cynical, brooding, activism-oriented girl, was related to classy, perky, sunny Jeremy Manson. They literally had nothing in common! Not even facial features! Unless Sam was just a carbon copy of her mother, those were some weird genetics.

Danny’s prolonged silence made her grow anxious, so Sam quickly changed topics. “So...what are you doing here? You know this place serves vegetables, right?” She just hoped their usual teasing dynamics would save them from the awkwardness.

Luckily for her, it did. The halfa countered her teasing tone with an easy grin. “Yeah, I know. But Jazz was really looking forward to coming to this place and, since convincing our fudge-loving father to take her would have been impossible, she played the older sister card on me.”

Jazz just huffed in response. “Oh, shut up. Just be thankful this is a vegan, Mexican restaurant; you’re bound to find something you like.”

“Yeah, I can always just stuff my face on nachos with guacamole.” He quipped back.

The hazel-eyed student turned her focus to the older girl, her face lighting up. “Oh! You’re vegan?”

“Oh, no. I’m not. I’m just much more willing to eat healthy food than my brother, who I still don’t understand how he could’ve grown so much given his atrocious diet!” She finished pointedly.

“Hey!” Danny protested. “My diet’s not ‘atrocious’! So what if I’m not actively looking for vegan restaurants? I still eat everything I need.”

“I once saw you eat nothing but oreos and soda for two weeks when you were sixteen.” His sister pointed out, without missing a beat.

That made him wince, not appreciating the reminder. “Okay, so maybe that wasn’t my best moment. But, the soda gave me the liquids and sugar I needed and the oreos gave me carbohydrates and proteinーmaybe, if they’re baked with milk…”

“Oreos are actually vegan.” Sam pointed out.

Although her comment was meant to annul his point, it seemed to validate it, instead, for he sent a smug look at Jazz. “Ha! You heard that? Turns out I’m healthier than you, Daisy Green.”

“Oh, just shut up.” His sister grunted, exasperated.

The father-daughter duo just exchanged glances, not used to this sort of family interactions. After a beat, Jeremy spoke up. “How about we order, huh?”

Picking up his own menu, Danny’s face morphed itself in confusion. “Uh...I have literally no idea what to ask for. Sam, you’re the expert, what do you recommend?”

By his side, Jazz perked up. “That’s right! You’re vegan aren’t you?”

“Ultra-recyclo-vegetarian.” She corrected, although she wasn’t sure why; nobody ever really got the difference.

And, lo and behold, neither did Jazz. “Pardon?”

Sam was about to tell her to let it go, when Danny beat her to it. “Sam doesn’t just avoid eating anything with a face, she also eats everything on her plate.”

When he sent her a wink and a friendly smile, Sam almost puddled. She soon regained her senses, though. Alright, so it was touching that he retained that piece of information when most people tended to forget all about it, but that still wasn’t grounds to make a fool out of herself. Finally, she opted for pushing those feelings aside. “This is my first time here, too. But as the only experienced veggie-eater at the table, I’d suggest that if you’re not feeling up to experimenting with new things, then just stick to what you’d usually order from a regular Taco Bell.”

She lowered her menu for them to see as she pointed at certain meals. “For example, Danny, you could try ordering the Burrito Vegano. Judging by its ingredients, it's exactly the same as your usual burrito except for the lack of meat. So you shouldn’t miss much.

“If any of you feels more adventurous, then you could try the vegan Quesadillas, just keep in mind that rather than being exactly the same as the regular ones but with vegetables, instead of cheese they have humus.”

“What about snacks?” Jeremy asked, as enthralled in her explanation as their impromptu guests.

“Oh, I’m definitely ordering their famous nachos with guacamole and vegan nacho cheese. Everyone recommends it.”

“What’s vegan nacho cheese even made of?” Danny scrunched his face up in disgust. “Is it even edible?”

Sam scoffed. Typical carnivore response. “Not any less than the barely passable-for-human-consumption, acrylic orange paint that is the usual nacho cheese. And to answer your question, it’s made of carrots and peppers.”

“Wow.” Danny breathed, impressed once again by Sam’s ability to monologue without the need for breath. “You really have a strong opinion on nacho cheese.”

“Oh, you don’t even know half of the things she has a strong opinion on.” Jeremy muttered.

Before Sam could so much as protest at her dad’s familiar exasperation at her altruistic ways, a waiter, notepad and pen in hand, appeared behind her. “Have the ladies and gentlemen made their decision yet?”

Looking over the table and receiving nods in confirmation, the Manson patriarch took the lead. “I believe we have.”

“Excellent.” The waiter said. “What do you want to drink?”

“Well, I’d normally ask for a bottle of your best wine, but I’m driving tonight, so I’ll have a Mr. Pepper.”

“Of course, sir. And everyone else?”

“I’m driving too, so I’ll have a Lemon Nestea, please.” Jazz said.

It was Danny’s turn. “I’m not driving. I’ll have a beer.”

“We serve Coronita, is that alright with you, sir?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

Finally, he turned to Sam. “And you, Miss?”

“Another beer’s fine.”

The waiter wrote everything down. “Alright, so that’s a Mr. Pepper, a Lemon Nestea, and two beers; is that right?” At the sounds of agreement, he went on. “Alright. Have you decided on your food yet, or do you need more time?”

It was Sam’s turn to perk up. “We’ll have some nachos with guacamole and vegan cheese to share. I’ll have the Tofu Tacos; You make them yourself once they’re served, right?” The waiter nodded. “Then, yes. The tacos.” Then she pointed at her dad. “And my Dad’ll have the fajitas.”

As their waiter wrote everything down, she directed her attention at the siblings. “And you guys…?”

“Hm, I think I’ll have the vegan quesadillas.” Jazz said. “I gotta admit, when you said they have humus I’d already made up my mind! And you, Danny?”

Danny kept frantically scanning his menu. He didn’t know what half of those things were! All he knew was that it was Mexican food with extra vegetables. “Uh...I...I’ll have the Burrito Vegano?” He just hoped Sam was right and it’d be similar to the regular thing.

“An excellent choice.” The waiter commented before taking their menus away. “Your drinks and nachos will be out shortly.”

After the waiter left, they kept on chattering idly about everything and nothing. How Sam and Danny knew each other, why Jeremy had, completely out of the blue, decided to let them have dinner with them, what their parents’ did for a living… That’s when things got a little awkward. Although Mr. Manson was trying his hardest to remain neutralーSam’s constant glares served as a good incentiveーit was plain to see he didn’t think highly of their parents and their job.

Danny and Jazz would be lying if they said they weren’t already used to it, or even understood his concerns.

Just as their drinks were being served, Mr. Manson’s cell phone started ringing. He took a quick glance at the caller and immediately winced, which didn’t go unnoticed by his daughter. “Dad…? Is everything okay?”

“What? Oh! Oh, yes. Everything’s fine, kiddo. I just have to take this real quick.” He explained as he got up from his chair, about to make his way to a less crowded area of the restaurant. “I’ll be right back.”

“Is he okay?” Jazz asked, slightly concerned.

Sam could only shrug in response. “He says so.” Noticing the sudden rise in tension, she chose to change topics instead. “Um, I don’t really have any siblings to know better but, you two are close, right? I know my fair share of families who wouldn’t spend any non-essential time together otherwise.” Like mine, was what she didn’t say.

“You could say that.” Jazz replied, almost enigmatically.

Normally, Danny wouldn’t go into detail as to why he and Jazz were so closeーthree guesses why and the first two didn’t countーbut there was something about Sam that told him she would understand. Granted, he couldn’t tell her everything, let alone in the middle of a relatively crowded restaurant, but he could shed some light over her queries. He guessed he felt the need to be open and share things with her because the other day she opened up to him and Tucker.

“Well,” he started, “if I’m being honest, I’ve always been closer to my older sister than my parents…”

"How so?" Sam couldn't believe she had the nerve to ask him that when her own relationship with her parents was, most of the time, rocky, at best.

Did she really have to put him on the spot like that? “No, Danny,” he scolded himself, “you wanted to be honest with her yourself. Don’t blame it on her.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he tried to explain as best as he could while revealing as little as possible. “Uh... it's just...my parents are ghosthunters, as you know, so ghosts have always been present in my house, making things incredibly difficult for Jazz and me growing up.” Like eating savage, ecto-wieners for dinner, having every single personal problem compared to some ghost-hunting analogy, or being mortified and ostracised by his peers as a result. “And things...things only got even more complicated when I was a teenager.”

That was the part he couldn’t go in detail about. Mainly because what truly made things more complicated was the fact that all deep conversations, honesty, and family bonds were tattered the moment he became the very half-ghost whose dissection his parents often fantasized about. “As a result, I guess you could say Jazz and I ganged up together. The Fenton siblings against the world when our parents were too busy with their job.” When he felt Jazz’s warm hand on his cold one, he couldn't help but meet her concerned face with a small smile in thanks for everything she’d ever done for him.

A wave of sympathy washed over Sam at Danny and Jazz's predicament. It was easy to forget Amity Park didn't even know ghosts existed until seven years ago, when Phantom and his putrid kind appeared out of the blue, because witches never forgot their existence in the first place. She could understand being overlooked in favour of creatures of dubious existence must've caused them great pain growing up.

Noticing her heartbroken look, Danny immediately tried to lighten up the mood. “Don’t worry, though. We might not be as close to our parents as we were when we were little, but we still all love each other.”

“Yeah,” Jazz assured her, “no need to feel bad for us, Sam. It’s still nice to see a daughter being close to her dad like you two are.” Her words were meant to bring the hazel-eyed Goth comfort, but her brows knitted together in concern at the look on her face.

Albeit Sam was smiling, it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Lowering her head, almost hiding her face from view, she shook it, sadly.

After a minute or two of silence Danny was about to ask her if she was alright when she spoke. “Don’t let appearances fool you; my Dad and I aren’t exactly close, either.”

“But...but you two seem to get along so well…” Jazz started, but was cut off by Sam.

“We get along,” she confirmed, “but we’ve never been close. My parents are the complete opposite of me, and it showsーthey’ve never been able to understand me, my Grandma did.”

Danny almost regretted having to ask. “Is your Grandma…?”

The Goth just nodded. “She passed away when I was fourteen. She was the only person to ever understand me and accept me for who I am. You could say I’ve been on my own ever since, although in a psychological/spiritual sense.”

“Is that the reason why you’re Goth?” Jazz couldn’t hold herself back from asking, her psychologist instincts taking the reins of the situation. Shocked at her behaviour, Danny kicked her gently on her shin from under the table.

He ignored her glare in favour of distracting Sam from her question. “What about your mother, aren’t you two close?”

The harsh laugh she let out startled them both. “I might not be close to my Dad, but compared to my relationship with my mother, I’m practically a daddy’s girl.”

A shadow casted over her hazel eyes, other times so full of fire and mischief, and Danny didn’t like it one bit. Reaching over to grab her hand in his, making her gasp in surprise, he sent her a gentle smile. “Thank you for sharing that about yourself with us.”

She returned the smile. “Thank you for sharing that about your parents with me.”

They kept staring into each other’s eyes, not caring about anything around them, until the clatter of the nacho plate being set down on their table broke them out of their thoughts. While Danny chose to ignore her sister’s annoying smirk, Sam thanked the waiter. Then, she turned to the siblings. “Well? What are you waiting for? Dig in!”

They did as they were told, and their faces split in matching grins. Hmming in appreciation, the black-haired half-ghost dipped another tortilla chip into the vegan cheese. “This ain’t half bad!”

Sam just chuckled. “Told you.”

After a, surprisingly, rather pleasant dinner between the two different families, it was time to say goodbye. Since they were the ones driving them home, Jazz and Mr. Manson left first to look for their respective cars, leaving Danny and Sam some extra time to talk.

“Well, that was a pleasant surprise.” Danny commented, putting his hands inside his hoodie’s pocket.

“Yeah, it really was.” Sam smiled when, suddenly, a cold breeze whooshed by, making her shiver.

Noticing her hugging herself from the corner of his eyes, he immediately took action. “Here, let me help. It’s starting to get cold.” He said, even when his cryokinesis made him immune to cold years ago.

“Danny, I’m fineー” she began, but was interrupted by Danny slipping his hoodie on over her shoulders. As he lent her his jacket, their eyes locked. For a moment, time stopped. The Earth stopped moving. Nothing else mattered but each other’s eyes; Danny’s precious baby blue, and Sam’s vibrant hazel. Then, the sound of a not-so-distant honk broke the spell, causing them to quickly avert their eyes, a hint of pink dusting their cheeks.

Sam wasn’t cold anymore.

As Jazz opened the door for Danny, he waved her goodbye, which Sam returned. Now that she was alone with her thoughtsーand Danny’s hoodieーwaiting for her Dad to appear with his own car, she couldn’t stop herself from sniffing the garment. It smelled like wood and freshly rained soil, but there was something else. Something...familiar she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Whatever it was, she liked it.

It smelled like Danny.

#Danny Phantom #DP #dp fanfic #your heart #my fic #danny fenton #sam manson #valerie gray #jazz fenton #jeremy manson #paulina sanchez #dp star #oc #ghost king! danny #ghost king au #witch queen! sam #witch queen au #enemies to friends to lovers

10 notes · View notes

loki-hargreeves · 4 years

Text

Kylo Ren x Reader - You’re Kidnapped [PART 2]

[PART 1]

Warnings: mentions of death and torture, PTSD symptoms, angst, mentions of blood, just a tad of fluff, Fighting (Kylo and Hux), getting turned on by violence, SMUT [18+] Oral sex f!receiving Word Count: 4,8K Summary: Returning to your normal life after being kidnapped isn’t easy. Work is taking a toll on you, and Hux seems to make it worse. Kylo returns your wedding ring to you and finally, you’re ready for closure. He lets you see what he did to the man who tortured you. Eventually, he takes your mind off things in the most pleasurable way… Author’s Note: If you don’t like domestic Kylo, you probably won’t like this. But if you do, you’re in for a treat! Don’t worry, you’ll have Kylo’s rage as well ;) Please enjoy Xx

THIRD POV

Shock pulses ripped through her body, spreading ache through her muscles like needles until she couldn’t even breathe. Every time they came to an end, she would lose her strength and cry, giving Garr Caine the sick and twisted satisfaction that he wanted. Humiliation washed upon her entire body. She didn’t want him to see her like that, she was stronger that this! But every time he put her through immense torture, she failed herself.

“You’re mine now. Your husband is dead!” Garr’s voice echoed in her mind over and over again. Despite the fact that she knew he was a liar; she somehow believed the sick bastard. Tears streamed down her face as she let the news sink in.

“No…no, you’re lying!” Y/N sobbed. She wanted to get up, to attack Garr, but her body was strapped down. The more she tried to move her limbs, the more panicked she felt. She was trapped and she needed to get free, now! “Let me go!”

“Y/N!” Another voice joined them. It sounded so familiar, yet it was so distant. She looked up, only to face total darkness. Who was it?

Then she heard it again, “Y/N! Wake up,” it was Kylo’s voice.

All of a sudden, Y/N opened her eyes and saw Kylo’s beautiful, scarred face hovering above hers. Her limbs were free, and she didn’t feel the pain that was just there. She was alright, safe beside the man she loved. It had been another nightmare. Only a nightmare, among the many others she had seen recently. Even after Kylo had killed the man who had kidnapped her, Y/N still felt watched and she was constantly on edge. If it wasn’t for Kylo, she wasn’t sure what she would do.

Silently, she snuggled closer to Kylo’s warm frame, hiding her worried expression against his chest. She didn’t want him to see her like that, so weak and afraid like a child. He had showered before joining her in bed, which she could tell by the scent of his cologne and the soaps he used. Even his hair was still damp when she touched it. Breathing in his scent, she managed to calm down. It helped as Kylo ran his long fingers up and down her exposed back, tracing over her scars on her soft skin. She could sense that Kylo was angry, despite how calm he seemed in the moment. Kylo was angry at Garr Caine for wrecking his wife, tearing her to shreds and leaving her scared and vulnerable. He was angry at himself for letting this happen. If he had kept an eye on Y/N, none of this would’ve ever happened to them.

After a little while, Y/N dared to break the silence that had surrounded the two of them, “I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“I was never asleep,” Kylo let her know. He spoke the truth. He hadn’t been able to sleep at all that night. He had once again gotten lost in his thoughts, getting a break as he sensed how distressed Y/N was in her slumber. Kylo had gently touched her face and seen glimpses of her nightmare. He didn’t want to admit it, but when he saw she was back in that torture chamber, his heart sank to his stomach. It’s like she never truly left that place.

Y/N didn’t know why Kylo hadn’t slept, but she didn’t question it. Instead, she took a deep breath and exposed her face from the safety of Kylo’s chest, looking up to meet his dark brown eyes. Her heart swelled in her chest as she looked at him. She loved him so much it almost hurt. “I don’t know why he still taunts me…” Y/N admitted quietly. She was ashamed of herself. Before all this, she was strong and confident. She had a sharp tongue and she could even make General Hux shut his mouth if needed. Now she could hardly walk out of their shared quarters without feeling paranoid.

“He can’t hurt you. I took care of that,” Kylo reminded her. He had certainly made the disgusting man regret ever touching Y/N. Kylo was used to killing his enemies swiftly, but that couldn’t be said about Garr. He had a slow, torturous death that most people wouldn’t wish upon their worst enemies.

Kylo brushed Y/N’s hair off her face, his fingers lingering on the delicate skin on her neck. He wanted to kiss her and take her mind off her past, but for the first time in their long relationship, he was unsure of what to do. Kylo wasn’t quite in touch with his emotions. If it wasn’t for his abilities to sense what others were feeling, he wouldn’t be so sure what to do in situations like these. He didn’t want to scare her away. After all, Y/N was all he had, all he truly cared about.

Y/N could tell that Kylo was holding himself back. She put her hand above his and leaned against his touch. That’s when Kylo intertwined their fingers and he pressed a gentle kiss on the spot where her wedding ring used to be. He made a mental note to find it. It was special and it was a disgrace that Garr had torn it off her finger. Kylo had broken the man’s fingers while keeping that in mind.

Wishing to escape her mind, Y/N leaned towards her husband and kissed his soft lips. It was more than enough for Kylo to kiss her back and touch her body in a way only he knew how to. For that night, they could escape everything else by getting lost in each other.

The next day Y/N tried to brush her thoughts way and focus on her work. Despite having Kylo’s permission to rest and stay in their quarters all day if needed, she got up and found herself by her station. Everyone in the order knew about what happened to her. When she walked past her fellow commanders and generals, she could feel how differently they looked at her and she didn’t like it. They were careful around her and she felt like a child among them. That’s why she was so determined to prove them all wrong, that she was still who she was before.

Garr Caine hadn’t changed her. She wouldn’t give her tormentor that much credit.

They were working on locating Resistance bases, as per usual. Y/N was exploring the galaxy virtually, her eyes glued to the hologram in front of her. She was so focused on her work that she hadn’t noticed Hux who was right beside her now. When the General cleared his throat, Y/N flinched and stepped back. She almost went in to attack Hux, but she stopped herself from making a fool of herself just in time. Clearly, Hux noticed how strangely she behaved, but he didn’t mention it.

“Do you have the reports ready?” Hux wondered. It hadn’t even crossed Y/N’s mind. She was supposed to file reports about the recent mission and deliver them to the other generals. Y/N couldn’t believe she had forgotten about it! Hux would be pissed at her and she really wasn’t in the mood to hear his lecture.

“Uh, they’re not quite ready yet, General. I’ll have them finished by the end of the day, I swear,” She assured him although she wasn’t quite sure she was able to do that. If she gave up on her breaks, she could possibly get her job done in time, but it would go on the last minute.

It was clear that Hux was disappointed and annoyed even, but he bit his tongue for a moment. He knew that getting angry at her wouldn’t help, but he really needed those reports. “You better have them by my station in three hours. We can’t wait around forever, Y/N,” Hux gave her a limit. Three hours was way too little, and Y/N knew that.

Her heart sunk to the bottom of her stomach and she felt ill, but she just stood there and nodded, afraid to bring conflict by asking for more time. She felt terrible enough for doing a poor job. “O-of course.”

Hux narrowed his eyes and quickly glanced at Y/N’s body, reading her body language. Her shoulders were tense, and she held onto her waist, almost as she was shielding herself from him. It didn’t take a genius to see that she was anxious. She behaved like a caged bird nowadays, aching to be free. Without saying another word, Hux walked away. He figured that Kylo Ren would come after him if he said another word to his wife. Honestly, Hux wasn’t in the mood to face the dark-haired man at all. It always stressed him out.

Y/N was relieved as Hux walked away, but her relief didn’t last long. Knowing that there was no way she could do her job in time made her feel lazy and useless. Everyone would be mad at her and they would blame it on Garr.

Hoping that there was a miraculous way to get the reports done, she went right to it. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she began to work on it, reading the case files and adding the vital information to the reports. Only after a few minutes, the text blurred before her eyes. She squinted them and tried to focus, but it felt like an impossible task.

Come on, focus! She thought by herself and clenched her jaw. After several failed attempts at regaining her focus, it became too much for her. She dropped everything she was holding and rushed away from her station. Everyone else around her glanced at Y/N as she stormed off. Even though she didn’t make a sound, it seemed like everyone knew something was wrong, but no one followed her. No one bothered to stop her and ask if she was okay.

It wasn’t until she reached the nearest bathroom that she stopped. Y/N shut the door a little too loudly, locked it and leaned against the cold, metal counter. Her eyes scanned her reflection and she hated what she saw. It had been so long since she had looked in the mirror and reckognized herself. Now a broken woman stared back at her. It sickened her and made her blood boil with rage. As it all built up, it got too much for her. She couldn’t stand the sight of herself with tears on her face. She squeezed her fingers into a fist and punched the mirror, trying to let go of some of her rage and pain with the harsh blow.

The mirror shattered and some pieces fell into the sink. At first, Y/N didn’t feel anything at all. She stared at the mess she made and then saw blood dripping onto the pieces of the mirror. Her hands were trembling as the shards sunk into her skin.

“Fuck!” Y/N cursed as she realized how unnecessary that was. Although it felt good to break it, she was now responsible for a broken mirror and she had glass in her fingers which began to hurt. Now she definitely couldn’t get her job done in time. Medical droids would have to pull out the tiny shards so she wouldn’t risk getting an infection.

It had been a long day for both Kylo and Y/N. Kylo had been on an outside mission, secretly returning to the place he had found Y/N from. As Kylo finally returned, he was met by an irritated General Hux. Kylo sighed as the man approached him. He really wasn’t in the mood to deal with Hux right now.

“Ren, your wife left her station early. Do you realize what her delay costs us?” Hux snapped at Kylo, as if he had any power over him.

Kylo felt anger set a flame within him as he faced Hux. Who did he think he was? “You could assign the work to someone else. There are hundreds of people to choose from!” Kylo defended Y/N while stating the obvious. He knew Y/N had been assigned with some unimportant things which were easily transferred to anyone else’s stations. Hux didn’t like them so naturally, he would make a fuss about it.

By now, some nearby Stormtroopers eavesdropped on the two of them and avoided getting too close.

“Get a grip of your wife, Ren,” Hux spat with such disrespect, it was a miracle Kylo didn’t send his body across the loading deck.

By using the force, Kylo brought Hux’s neck right into his hand and he squeezed the air out of the man’s lungs. It wasn’t the first time, but this time Hux seemed genuinely startled by Kylo’s rage. As if he hadn’t taunted him to do this. “Do not ever talk about Y/N like that ever again. I won’t hesitate to kill you if you get on my nerves, general.”

Hux’s eyes were wide and he looked at Kylo, silently pleading for him to let him go. Kylo was more than tempted to squeeze harder, to feel his neck break in his touch, but he knew that unfortunately Hux was far too valuable to be killed like this. So he let go right before his face could turn blue.

Hux scattered a few feet away from Kylo as he caught his breath. His fear was all gone, just like that and he put on a tough face. Without saying another word, Kylo watched as the ginger man got out of his sight. His anger was bubbling in his veins, but Kylo tried to calm down. He knew he’d feel much better the moment he saw Y/N. His anger was replaced by worry as he wondered why she left her station in the first place.

Once Kylo returned to their quarters, he expected to find Y/N asleep in their bed already. As he walked into an empty room, he was surprised. “Y/N?” He called out her name, sensing her presence near. He didn’t worry about her being gone, but he was curious as to why she was still awake.

“I’m here!” She replied to him from the bathroom. Kylo followed her sweet voice immediately, already taking off his heavy clothes, leaving them on a chair before he entered the bathroom, now only in his pants. He found Y/N in the bathtub, sitting in the corner of it. She didn’t look up to face him, which was unusual. He could tell that something was wrong. Before he could ask, Kylo noticed that she had bandage around her fingers.

“What happened?” Kylo wanted to know why his wife was hurt. He knelt on the tile floor beside the tub and touched her shoulder, noticing that the water was cold. She must’ve been in there for a long time. Had someone hurt her?

Y/N bit her lips together as her expression morphed from an empty gaze to something full of sorrow. As she turned to face Kylo, she almost let go of her tears. How could she tell him that she was unhappy? That she didn’t even know who she was anymore? After everything that Kylo had done for her, she felt rotten for still feeling this way. “I broke a mirror,” She revealed. “Also I pissed off everyone. I forgot to turn in the reports in time and now another mission is delayed. Hux wasn’t too happy about that.”

Kylo knew what it was like to let out rage by destroying things, but he had never seen her do that before. Hux was a pain the in the ass. Kylo was angry that Hux put so much pressure on her now. It almost felt like he was doing it on purpose. After all, it wasn’t a big secret that Hux didn’t like Kylo Ren too much, nor his wife. Kylo wished he had done more damage to Hux, but he had time to do deal with the man later.

He sighed and decided to join her in the bath. Kylo stayed silent as he let the cold water go down the drain as he replaced it with fresh, clean and warm water. As the tub slowly filled up again, he rid himself of the rest of his clothes as he finally got in the tub with her. He had something in his hand that he wanted to show her.

Gently, Kylo grabbed her hand and opened his palm, revealing the ring that had been lost. Y/N’s eyes widened in shock as she saw it. When Garr had thrown it away, Y/N was scared she would never see it again. Kylo slipped it back on her finger, where it belonged. The sweet gesture reminded her of the day he proposed to her. Everything about it was so sweet, so affectionate - at least to Kylo’s standards. Somehow, it was the last push she needed to let her tears slip which she hated more than anything. She was sick of crying.

“How did you...how did you find it?” She wondered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Kylo looked at her finger which now had the ring around it again, just like how it was supposed to be. “I went searching for it and I found out,” He explained casually, as if he hadn’t travelled through space in the speed of light to find it. What he didn’t expect was that it would make her cry. He cared about her, but Kylo wasn’t the best when it came to dealing with emotions. He never knew what to say, but somehow it seemed to be enough when he held her. Every time, he would be fueled with rage towards the people who caused her to feel this way.

“Kylo?” Y/N said his name quietly. He faced her and she continued, “Can you…can you show me what you did to him?” Y/N wondered almost nervously. When Garr was still alive in a holding cell, she hadn’t been able to walk in and see the torture Kylo had put him through. But now she felt as she was ready, and she knew Kylo could make her see by simply touching her.

Kylo was surprised to hear her request, but he was more than happy to show her. He imagined that the sight would satisfy her, perhaps even give her closure. He knew she was serious, otherwise she wouldn’t have asked, so he didn’t ask her to repeat herself. “Alright,” He let out a breath, seeing the relief on her face. She snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder as Kylo gently put his hand on her head. Just like that, he closed his eyes and thought back to the moment he found himself in the holding cell with Garr Caine strapped down right in front of him. He channeled his memories to Y/N so she could see it all through Kylo’s eyes. For a moment, they weren’t in the tub anymore. They were in that holding cell.

Kylo showed her how he had hurt the man, made him shriek in pain and cry how sorry he was. She saw how brutal Kylo had been and as sick and twisted as it was, it made her feel better. To see that sick fuck in pain was exactly what she needed. Revenge was definitely right when it came to him. She didn’t look away, instead she took in every little detail that she could. Y/N heard Kylo’s voice, full of anger. It was so deep, so raspy, so loud. Kylo had definitely let his emotions control him as he tortured the torturer.

It wasn’t a sight for sore eyes.

Eventually, Kylo showed her Garr’s death. The pathetic excuse of a man died by Kylo’s hand and he could never get up to hurt Y/N, or anyone else, ever again. He was gone. Now Y/N had seen it and it was verified in her mind that Garr was gone, dead.

The next time they opened their eyes, they were back in the bathroom, in the warm water of the bathtub, bodies close to each other. It felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She felt happy that Kylo had done that. Perhaps the sight would’ve made someone else sick, it definitely made Y/N relieved and almost happy, in a twisted way. She felt like she had gotten her revenge and it made her love Kylo even more than she thought possible.

Y/N wiped her tears away and then cupped Kylo’s face, her thumb laying above his scar. Their eyes met and she felt like she fell for him all over again. “Thank you,” She thanked him as she was genuinely appreciative of him, the ring and for ending Garr’s life. To show her gratitude and to seek pleasure that only he could give her, she closed the distance between them by kissing him. No matter how many times she kissed Kylo, she couldn’t get bored of it. His lips could take her mind on a journey, far away from reality.

As if there was an invisible force between them, pulling them closer to each other, Y/N moved her leg over his and she sat on his lap. Kylo instinctively put his big hands on her lower back to keep her closer to him. Their kiss deepened as Kylo pushed his tongue past her lips, wanting to taste her better and deeper. Y/N moaned into the kiss, enjoying how Kylo took control of her. As they parted the kiss, their eyes met, and Y/N felt a little better because now she had something else to think about than her shitty day. By that kiss alone, a fire erupted in her stomach and only Kylo could put it out. She wanted him and it became clear that Kylo wanted her as well.

“I wish I had been here when Hux lectured you. I would’ve gladly given him a piece of my mind,” Kylo admitted truthfully, which made Y/N smile a little bit.

“He’s a pain in the ass,” She rolled her eyes.

Kylo ran his hand down her back and he gave her bottom cheek a little squeeze, “I won’t argue with you on that.” He used his other hand to pull her body closer to his so he could attack her neck with kisses. He felt how goosebumps rose on her soft skin the moment his lips made contact with her sweet spot, causing her to moan lightly which echoed slightly in the bathroom.

“You certainly know how to make a girl feel better,” Y/N joked as Kylo made out with her sensitive skin, his teeth sinking into her just a little bit, surely leaving a mark that would remind everyone who dared disrespect her that they messed with him too.

He knew that they had to get out of that bathtub. Carefully, Kylo grabbed her body and got up, never letting go of her. He was strong and by using the force, he ensured he wouldn’t slip and fall. Y/N wrapped her limbs around his body and let him carry her out of the bathroom and into their bed. Kylo dropped her on the soft mattress, not caring at all that the water from the bathtub was now sinking into the sheets. As she lay on the bed, he crawled on top of her and returned his hungry lips on hers, getting lost in yet another passionate kiss that left them both breathless.

Kylo wanted to wash away every trace of Garr Caine. He wanted to touch all over her and replace her pain with pleasure. He was going to do so too. His rage mixed with love with became clear whenever they got lost in bliss. Most of all, Kylo wanted his wife to be happy. She was his, no one else’s to control. He refused to let Garr’s torture ruin the rest of her life. No one messed with what was Kylo Ren’s.

Y/N’s fingers tangled in his wet hair, tugging lightly as Kylo attacked her body with kisses. He pressed his lips on her neck and went down, tracing the skin over her collarbones, her shoulders and eventually her soft breasts. “You have to stop breaking mirrors with your fists,” Kylo told her and looked up to see that she was looking down at him. “Use a tool to break stuff with instead,” He recommended, not giving a damn about the cost of broken objects- as if he hadn’t destroyed numerous rooms and irreplaceable objects already.

Somehow, what he said made her chuckle, “Only you would give such advice!” He hadn’t heard her laughter in a long time, so it was like music to his ears. He felt so feral when he satisfied her. It was almost animalistic; he wanted to take care of her. Like an alpha would take care of their omega.

Kylo cupped her perked chest with his hands and grinded his body closer to her, feeling how wet she was already. She arched her back as Kylo began to massage her tits, teasing her further. He knew exactly how to get her ready for him. He pinched her nipples and then licked a stripe up her chest, leaving open mouth kisses on her breasts.

“Kylo…” His name left her mouth in a low hum.

He sank lower on her body, peppering sloppy kisses on her stomach, her hips and eventually her inner thighs as his hands still worked on her sensitive breasts. “Look at you, you’re dripping, and I’ve barely touched you.”

“I can’t help it when I’m around you,” She admitted shamelessly, hoping to feel Kylo’s skilled tongue on her body where she needed him the most.

“If I had known that you’d get this turned on by seeing me hurting people, I would’ve gladly shown you these things much earlier,” Kylo told her, half-jokingly. He could smell how aroused she was, and the heat was radiating from her onto his skin. Teasingly, he kissed the skin so close to her wetness, but not close enough.

She bucked her hips in an attempt to get closer to him, but to no avail. “I have to admit, it’s kind of hot,” Y/N told her husband which was followed by a whine. Kylo was a big tease sometimes and it drove her wild. Finally, he licked up her slit, gathering her wetness on his longue tongue until he finally reached her throbbing clit. Y/N let out a loud moan as Kylo began to flicker his tongue over her clit, which felt heavenly. Her entire body felt warm and her breaths got heavier as her husband attacked her sex with pleasure. She could never get tired of the way he ate her pussy like it was his last meal, always making sure she came. Her hands tangled in his dark locks and she grinded her hips up against his face.

Kylo brought two of his fingers to her dripping wet entrance, pushing them inside her warm walls. He earned another moan from her, which he loved to hear. As his mouth closed around her needy pearl, he began to rub his fingers inside her walls, massaging her cunt in the best possible way. Surely, he took her mind off her terrible day.

“Fuck! Kylo, I’m close!” Y/N whimpered heavily, barely being able to focus on looking at the man between her legs. It was far too tempting to let her eyes roll to the back of her head, but the sight of Kylo going down on her was far too hot to look away from.

Her words made him work harder, pumping his slick fingers in and out of her hole faster as he tugged on her clit much harsher, making her body squirm underneath his touch. Before, Kylo would’ve used the force to keep her from moving, but he was afraid that restricting her movement would take her mind back to what he tried to make her forget. So, he used his other hand to press down her hips, keeping her still without fully trapping her.

He felt how her walls throbbed and tightened around his fingers. As they slipped in and out of her, he could hear how wet she was. Knowing that she was this aroused because of him drove his mind wild and his cock felt painfully hard. He couldn’t wait to sink into her soft walls and rock her through the night just right.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…I’m gonna come! Kylo!” Y/N cried in pure pleasure. She held her breath as her orgasm approached her, ripping through her body powerfully, leaving her feeling like a puddle on the bed. She closed her eyes and then moaned as she was swallowed whole by euphoria. Kylo didn’t stop, no. He helped her ride through her orgasm by rubbing his fingers inside her walls and lapping his tongue over her clit, tasting the evidence of his work.

It didn’t take long until it became too much for her. She was panting and her body squirmed against her will as Kylo’s stream of pleasure never ended. “I can’t…” Y/N whispered weakly, trying to pull him away even though she absolutely adored the pleasure he brought her.

Kylo wasn’t going to tease her much longer. He pulled his fingers out of her and climbed up her body, being pulled into a kiss. Y/N could taste herself on his lips, but she didn’t care. It was a brief kiss as Kylo broke it off, replacing his lips with his slick fingers. Y/N closed her lips around them, looking right into his eyes as she sucked them clean.

“You’re such a good girl, but you’re so naughty,” Kylo growled at her, loving the sight before his eyes.

It was safe to say he had taken her mind off the wrong things.

Author’s Note: You asked for another part so here it is! I wanted the ring back, as someone commented. Then I tried to figure out a way to write how her life in the order changed after the kidnapping. Nothing too much, because this was originally meant to be a one-shot. I hope you liked it! :)

#Kylo Ren #Ben Solo #tw violence #tw gore #tw PTSD #PTSD #tw anxiety #Angst #Kylo Ren fanfiction #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren one-shot #star wars #star wars fanfiction

383 notes · View notes

ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years

Text

Field of Poppies Part 23

Summary: After being apart for six years, childhood friends Tommy and Amelia reunite under odd circumstances. Tommy is an outspoken young man and Amelia is pregnant and out on the streets. The bond of family can be unbreakable but it is tested often. Especially when Europe descends into war.

Part 23: The 179th returns home

//Happy Holidays everyone! Here’s a little gift to everyone who’s always given me so much support in my writing.

Amelia wasn’t sure she was able to feel so many emotions all at once. It was nearly a similar experience to when she first held Max and Annie right after they were born. Every part of her felt like it was pushing against her skin. All the feelings were just ready to burst out of her.

Excitement, impatience, hope, longing, and yet there was a sadness. They would finally be reunited but there would still be those years they lost. They could never get that time back.

Max was bouncing up and down by the door. “C’mon mum!” He yelled.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Amelia hurried downstairs with Annie in her arms. “It’s a little early, poppet.”

“I wanna be there though.” The almost eight-year-old protested.

“We’ll get there soon enough, it’s not too far.” Amelia opened the door and let Annie down. “We need to wait here for the rest.”

Max whined. “But what if we miss the train?”

“We won’t, I promise. Daddy will still be there waiting for us.” Amelia couldn’t exactly blame him though. She was praying that the train wasn’t late. She had waited years for this day but now couldn’t even stand to wait another minute. “Look, Max, here they come.”

Polly, Martha, and the children were coming down the street all looking to be in good spirits.

“Race ya to the train station!” Finn yelled to Max and before anyone could stop them, the young boys were sprinting down the lane.

“Max!” Amelia called after him but there was no use.

“They’ll be alright,” Polly assured her.

“He hasn’t been able to stand still all morning.” Amelia laughed softly as they began to walk, Annie holding onto her hand. “I don’t even think he slept a wink.”

“It doesn’t feel real,” Martha said, already clutching her handkerchief close, tears welling up in her eyes. “It feels like a dream.”

~~~~~~~~~

There was a crowd of people swarming the train station to welcome back loved ones. Max and Finn had climbed up on a brick wall to see over everyone.

Amelia came and gently held Max’s ankle just to make sure he didn’t topple over.

The energy in the air was almost electric. People were chattering happily about finally getting to kiss and hug the people they’d missed for so long.

“There’s the train!” Finn called out.

Amelia’s heart was racing as she heard the train whistle sound from a close distance. She picked up Annie who seemed a little nervous about the crowd around her.

“Mum, look!” Max cried as the train slowly pulled into the station. Dozens of uniformed men came spilling out of the train cars, all searching for their family and friends.

People were calling out names and joyfully reuniting.

Finn suddenly whooped with joy. “Arthur!” He jumped from the wall and disappeared into the crowd.

Four years of waiting, and when Amelia heard them nearby, she began to cry.

Tommy found Max first, rushing over to him. Max shouted with delight as he jumped into his father’s arms.

“Daddy!”

“Look at you, aye? Look how much you’ve grown.” The young man was overcome with melancholy.

“Tom,” Amelia called out to him.

His breath caught in his throat when he saw his wife standing nearby with their daughter in her arms. He came over with Max and embraced all three of them as close as he could. “I’m here, s’alright.” He whispered softly when he heard Amelia sobbing against his shoulder. “S’alright.”

When Amelia withdrew, she tried to compose herself. “Annie, daddy’s home. Aren’t you so happy to meet him?”

The little girl looked a bit shy when she saw the man who was in the photographs on their mantle.

“C’mere, will you give dad a cuddle?” Tommy asked hopefully, holding out his free arm.

Annie smiled. She appeared to recognize the voice she’d heard over the phone a month earlier. Amelia gave her to him. The little girl peered at him curiously, almost as if she was trying to see the similarities between the photograph and him standing there in real life. She touched his cheek and giggled softly.

Tommy felt an immense relief, hugging his two children close.

~~~~~~~~~~~

After reuniting with the rest of the Shelbys and the other 179th boys, they all parted ways before the big dinner they were going to have together to celebrate their homecoming.

Tommy carried Annie back home and held Max’s hand. The little boy was chattering on about all the things he could think of that Tommy missed.

Amelia kept glancing over at her husband. It was hard to believe he was really there in the flesh. It wasn’t just another cruel dream she would wake up from. He was there for good.

But every time she looked over at him, she noticed the subtle differences.

He looked older, less boyish than before. Whether it was time’s doing or stress, Amelia wasn’t sure. She had a feeling she looked much older as well.

He looked tired. Not just a lack of sleep but a deep exhaustion that settled deep in the bones. A weariness that sleep couldn’t cure.

He walked differently. Less like a confident young man and more like a soldier.

Maybe it would be temporary changes. Amelia could only hope that once he settled back into life in Birmingham, he’d go back to being the same old Tommy. But it was wishful thinking and even she knew that deep down.

~~~~~~~~~~

When they got into the flat, Tommy set Annie down. She went to retrieve her teddy bear from the kitchen where she’d left it. She held it up to her father to see.

“Look at that, aye?” He picked up the bear.

“Mummy said you sent them to us,” Max said. “For Christmas.”

Tommy met Amelia’s eyes. She smiled slightly although she still looked on the verge of tears. “Yeah, that’s right.” He nodded. “I gave them to Father Christmas so he’d bring them to you.”

“Annie loves her bear, don’t you, poppet?” Amelia said softly. The little girl giggled shyly and went to cling to her mother’s skirt.

“Well, it seems very well-loved.” Tommy knelt down to give the teddy back to her.

Annie took the bear back and yawned. It seemed all the excitement of the day was starting to catch up with her.

“Want to go down for a nap, love?” Amelia wondered, stooping down to pick her daughter up. Annie shrugged and rested her cheek on her mother’s shoulder, her eyelids drooping. “I think some rest will do you some good.” She murmured. “Then when we have dinner with everyone, you won’t be tired.”

“Want me to take her up?” Tommy offered. He didn’t want to sit on the sidelines anymore. Every opportunity he could have to be a father, he would take.

“Sure.” Amelia smiled and handed Annie over to him. “Max, want to help me make some lunch?”

Her son looked hesitant. It appeared he wanted to stay around Tommy even if he was just going upstairs. “Okay.”

“I’ll be right back,” Tommy promised him before heading upstairs with Annie in his arms. He got to the hallway and realized he wasn’t sure where Amelia had put Annie’s nursery.

Max’s room was across from his and Amelia’s. There was only one other bedroom, but maybe Amelia had moved things around. Maybe she kept Max’s room as a nursery and put Annie in there, switching him over to the other room.

Annie yawned and snapped Tommy out of his daze. He felt as if he opened the door to find he was wrong; it would hurt him deeply. Such a simple thing that he didn’t know.

But he wasn’t going to stand there all night with a sleepy toddler in his arms. So he decided to go for the bedroom that had been empty before he left for France.

There, he found what must’ve been his daughter’s room. There was a floral-patterned quilt on the little bed with a pink cloth doll sitting by the pillow.

“Here we are.” Tommy pulled back the covers and set Annie down in the bed. “Got your teddy, all cozy?”

The little girl nodded and began to drift off before her head even hit the pillow.

Her father tucked her in, but couldn’t get himself to leave. Doing his best not to wake her, he sat on the edge of the bed. He had thought about that moment many times. The moment he finally met his daughter for the first time. To finally see the little girl that he watched grow up through sporadic pictures.

It made him sick to his stomach to know how much he missed. He knew how much he was missing when he was in France, but finally be home, it hit him like a brick.

She was in her own bed, not a crib. She was walking around. She was talking in sentences.

When Max was growing up, Tommy couldn’t believe how fast time went by. One second, he was holding a newborn in his arms, the next he was watching him walk and talk. With Annie, he couldn’t even look back to remember a time before that day. Suddenly, he had this three-year-old. It was as if he had been struck with amnesia. There was nothing to remember about her before that day in 1918.

Sure, there were stories and pictures from Amelia, but it wasn’t the same. Tommy felt cheated.

The door to Annie’s room opened and Amelia came in. “Is she asleep?” She whispered.

Tommy nodded.

She noticed the torn look on his face. There was so much she wanted to say, but she wasn’t sure if any of it would be helpful. She didn’t want to talk down on him, didn’t want to act like she could fix him, or knew what he had gone through. They had all struggled, but Annie knew that at the end of the day, she had been with their children the entire time. Tommy had been robbed of all the memories that she had with Max and Annie. Yet, there was nothing Amelia could do to make it up to him.

She knelt down in front of him and took his hands in hers. “We’ll be alright.” She said quietly so she wouldn’t wake Annie.

Tommy didn’t say anything. It was almost as if he was looking right through her.

~~~~~~~~~~

Six Watery Lane hadn’t been so alive in years. Sure, it had been filled with children, but having the Shelby boys back brought back the soul of the flat. Despite all everyone went through, at least things were somewhat back to where they were meant to be.

A big meal was prepared and the whole house was full of chatter and laughter. Everyone felt at ease that they were all back together without any losses to mourn.

However, whether the others noticed or not, Arthur, Tommy, and John appeared to be faking a lot of their uplifted spirits. Sure, they were thrilled to be back home. But they didn’t leave the memories of war behind the second they stepped back onto British soil. No, there would be nothing to erase those memories. Now, the three men could only pretend for the sake of their family that things were okay. Whether they could keep up the façade for much longer was proving to be a challenging question.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After dinner, when the activity began to die down and the children all became cranky from being tired, the family again parted ways. Tommy and Amelia brought Max and Annie home down the street after saying their goodbyes.

Annie was already asleep in Amelia’s arms and Max was just about ready to doze off against Tommy’s shoulder.

The two parents put them both to sleep before retiring to their bedroom.

Before Tommy could even take his coat off, Amelia pulled him into a deep kiss. The whole day she’d been yearning after him but felt it wasn’t appropriate to take him away from the children or his family. So, she was patient and waited until they were alone for the night.

It was a welcome release for Tommy who found it easy to get lost in his wife’s embrace. All day he had been battling himself. He was trying to put the horrors of war out of his mind as best he could. He wanted to put all his focus on his family. He wanted to be happy to see them. But there was that dark feeling he couldn’t shake that things wouldn’t be the same after what he’d seen.

But Amelia gave him the outlet to completely abandon his thoughts. As she undressed him, he could only think about her fingertips brushing against him. He could only focus on the mechanics of taking off her dress. There was no space to think about the sound of shovels.

He could only hear her soft breathing and the sound of her dress falling to the floor.

“I’ve missed you so much.” She whispered against his lips.

The sound of her voice was so calming. It allowed Tommy to breathe evenly as he scooped her up and carried her to the bed.

“I’m here now.” He replied, laying her down gently.

“I’m all yours, Tommy.” She knotted her fingers in his hair as he hovered over her. “I always will be. Just please be all mine.”

“I always have been.” He captured her lips again.

~~~~~~~~~

Around midnight that same night, Tommy got up out of bed. He wasn’t used to having a nice bed and time to sleep. He was so accustomed to sleeping less than a few hours at a time in the damp, cold trenches.

Now, despite having a pillow to rest his head on, he couldn’t sleep very long. His body had been trained to stay up long hours so it probably would take time to adjust.

Amelia was still fast asleep as he slipped out from under the covers. He went to his coat that had been discarded on the floor to find his cigarette tin. Taking one out, he struck up a match to light it and sat down on the foot of the bed.

The quiet of the flat was starting to make his mind numb. The only time things were quiet in the tunnels was when they were trying to avoid detection from the Germans. They moved stealthily along the dark passageways. Other than that, Tommy was used to the constant sound of explosives, gunfire, and men dying around him.

The silence of the flat felt so unnatural that it made his skin crawl. He didn’t want to hear the sounds of war ever again, but at the same time, he felt as if he’d been so conditioned to it that he couldn’t stand the silence. It only allowed for his thoughts to run rampant. To allow for mental images to come up in his brain. Things he wished so desperately that he could erase from his memory.

Then, the more his thoughts raced, the louder the sound of shovels became. The dull thumping sound continued over and over again. Louder and louder until Tommy nearly jumped out of his skin.

They sounded so close. It sounded so real. This all had to be a dream. He wasn’t back in Birmingham with Amelia and the children. No, he was still in the tunnels. The sound of the shovels was real. The bedroom around him was merely a realistic dream.

“Tommy?”

The shovels faded when he heard Amelia call out to him. He was almost afraid to turn around. Maybe he would turn around and realize that it was just a cruel dream. He’d turn around and no one would be there. Then he would wake up back in the trenches.

“Tommy, are you alright?”

There was a rustling of the sheets and he felt a hand on his shoulder. It felt so real. How could it feel so real with the sound of the shovels were so real too?

“Please look at me.” She begged.

Tommy turned and felt relief wash over him when he saw his wife kneeling behind him. She looked terribly concerned. “Sorry.” He muttered. “Just thinking.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked.

He shook his head. “No, you can go back to sleep.”

She didn’t move a muscle. “Tommy, I don’t want you to suffer alone. If there’s something bothering you, please, I want to try to understand. I know that there’s so much you experienced that I’ll never get. But if I can just be someone you can talk to, that would mean so much to me. I want to be there for you. I feel like that’s what a wife is supposed to be.”

“I know.” He put his head in her lap. “I appreciate it, Mel. I just don’t know what else to tell you.”

She gently combed his hair back. It was much longer than he usually kept it. She wondered if he would cut it in the next couple of days. “What can I do to help you?”

“If you want to help me, don’t doubt yourself as my wife.” He closed his eyes and tried to get lost in her soothing touch.

Amelia gently massaged his face, trying to ease the tension in his muscles. “Will you come to church with me tomorrow?”

“I didn’t know you attended church.” He replied. A long time ago he could recall instances when she would go to Sunday service with the Shelby children. Though he couldn’t remember her parents ever being religious.

“I’ve been going with Polly. Talking to Father Carr helped when you were away.” She explained. “Especially when I was pregnant with Annie.”

He opened his eyes to look up at her. “I’ll go with you.”

She smiled. The same smile that Tommy yearned to see again. “Then maybe we can take the kids out to the park or something?”

“Yeah, there’s a lot I’ve missed.”

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe @evelynshelby

Tag list: @shelbyblinded @hanster1998 @xxbeckybeexx-blog

Masterpost

PB Masterlist

28 notes · View notes

goldencuffs · 4 years

Text

so i read @laurent-ofvere maya’s wonderful tag:

…and, naturally, this was born

damen/laurent au where damen tortures laurent with a vibrator during a meeting

Damen had only just managed to work the vibrator into Laurent’s freshly fucked hole when Laurent tore his mouth off Damen’s and said, “Shit, what’s the time?”

He was speaking too eloquently, Damen decided, and so he ignored Laurent and pressed the vibrator deeper inside him.

Laurent’s eyes rolled back and his back arched, his chest pressing further against Damen’s chest. His neck arched too; it was coloured different shades of pink and red from Damen’s mouth and stubble.

Damen couldn’t look away. He wrapped one hand around Laurent’s throat, pressing his thumb down on his pulse point as Laurent’s breath hitched. With his other hand, he searched through the rumpled bed sheets to find the remote for the vibrator.

But Laurent stopped him with a firm hand around on his wrist. “No, no, seriously – what’s the time?” His voice, this time, was completely breathy, so Damen peered over the bedside table and cast a quick glance at his phone.

“Half past nine,” Damen said. He didn’t even have time to resume his searching when Laurent pushed him off, eyes wide.

“What? Damen, I told you to set an alarm!” Laurent sat up, frantic, his legs swinging over the side of the bed. “My meeting starts now!”

“I did set an alarm,” Damen said, just as the alarm went off.

“You were supposed to set it a few minutes before my meeting, you idiot.” Laurent’s glare was ineffective when he looked like this: flushed, with Damen’s come marked on the inside of his thighs. “I told you morning sex was a bad idea; I get too distracted and sore for the rest of the day.”

Damen wasn’t listening. His gaze was fixed on the curve of Laurent’s ass. “Keep the vibrator in.”

Laurent stilled, shoulders rigid. He threw another weak glare at Damen. “I’m going to be in a meeting with my boss and other –”

“Keep it in.” Damen’s voice was firm.

Laurent flushed further. He gave Damen a searching look before he nodded, his eyes dark with want.

Laurent went to stand up. It took him three tries.

Damen wrapped a hand around his cock, staving off his orgasm as Laurent bent down to retrieve his briefs. The baby blue vibrator was stunning against his skin tone.

Laurent dressed himself with little care; he buttoned his shirt all the way to the top, hiding those lovely marks. Damen already missed them.

Laurent left their bedroom, his movements still harried.

Damen contemplated on spending the rest of the morning here; naked and warm in sheets that smelt of Laurent. And then his hand brushed against the remote of the vibrator and the idea came to his mind: at first unbidden – and then more fully fledged.

Laurent was in the kitchen, seated at the dining table. It was where he usually worked. Damen had wanted to turn the guest bedroom into an office for him, but with Auguste and Nikandros sleeping over as much as they did, it was impossible.

One day, Damen was going to buy Laurent a house that had enough space for an office and a garden large enough for three dogs and six cats to run around in – Laurent’s dream, apparently.

For now, Damen strolled into the kitchen naked. Laurent’s meeting was in progress; he had his headphones in, and he was nodding slightly, but his eyes flickered over Damen’s body for a split second.

Damen leant against the countertop, watching him, completely enamoured.

He waited a few minutes – until Laurent had stopped talking about how well one of the authors he represented had done at his latest book launch – before he turned on the vibrator.

He put it on the lowest setting. Damen wasn’t expecting much, but then Laurent jumped, inhaling sharply. His eyes snapped to Damen’s, mouth open and Damen smirked, raising the remote and waving it.

Laurent looked shocked. He swayed slightly in his seat before his attention was caught by the monitor. “No, sir, I’m fine. Thank you.” His face was red.

Damen watched Laurent intently. Underneath his trepidation, there was excitement.

Damen knew that look very well. Before Laurent, Damen had never liked the thought of outsiders being voyeurs of their relationship. But now, Damen found the same excitement in it, like Laurent.

He liked it when men stared at Laurent as Damen kissed and groped him in clubs or darkened alleyways or – once – in the corner of the library.

Last month, they’d taken it a step further. Lazar had walked in on Laurent sucking Damen off when he’d stayed over for the night. Laurent, mouth red and slick, had asked him to stay and watch.

Lazar’s eyes didn’t leave Laurent the whole time. The desire on his face was obvious. Damen had never come harder in his entire life.

It turned him on immensely: to know that men wanted Laurent but couldn’t touch him or be with him.

This situation right here was making Damen hard. It was exhilarating, to know Laurent was fighting off his desire as his boss and co-workers watched on, oblivious.

Damen skipped two settings on the vibrator and Laurent lurched, like he’d been stung by something. His hands clutched onto the lip of the table, knuckles white.

He looked up at Damen, pleading, and Damen honestly felt like he was falling in love all over again.

Laurent’s gasp was loud when Damen pressed the remote again. The sound carried out into the tiny space of their kitchen.

Laurent’s eyes widened; he stared at the monitor again, looking delirious. “N-no, I… My cat bit my toe. I yeah – she is. Super naughty.” Laurent gave a strained chuckle.

The colour on his face was deepening steadily. Damen knew Laurent was close. He was practically gyrating his hips into thin air; small, aborted movements that gave no relief.

Just when Laurent seemed close – Damen knew all the tell-tale signs very well – he set the vibrator back to its lowest setting.

Laurent’s throat clicked in frustration. Damen chuckled.

He went about making his morning coffee, quietly humming to himself and pretending he couldn’t hear Laurent trying very hard to stifle his gasps and moans.

Laurent started speaking again, though his posture was tight. He seemed wary, like he suspected Damen might fiddle with the remote while he gave his rundown on key demographic markets. Damen was not that cruel.

As soon as he had finished his coffee, Damen placed the vibrator on the highest setting.

Laurent jumped and his headphones fell out. Damen could hear muffled conversation spilling out of them, but it was overtaken by the high, persistent buzz of the vibrator.

Laurent gave one, forlorn look at his monitor before he shut it close even though it was clear someone was still talking.

Damen raised an eyebrow, “Meeting over already?”

Chest heaving and eyes almost crossed in pleasure, Laurent grit out, “God, Damen, you’re such a dick.” He shuddered, mouth opening on a small moan. “I-it was an important meeting, fuck!”

Damen’s mouth was dry as he watched Laurent spread his legs so he could properly straddle the chair and finally grind his cock against the seat.

“Blame your departure on a faulty connection. I’m sure they’ll understand,” he said, but it was clear Laurent was not listening; he was singularly fixed on the idea of orgasming.

Damen turned off the vibrator. Laurent’s frustrated screech seemed to die in his throat when he saw how hard Damen’s cock was. His eyes fell on it, helpless and overwhelmed.

Damen gripped his cock with one hand, almost groaning in relief. He beckoned Laurent close with his other hand. “Come here, baby.”

#captive prince #damen x laurent #re uploading this bc for some reason tumblr deleted it 🙄🙄#maya i hope you like this ily 💖💖💖#also i think this just proves maya and i are the same person bc i fantasise about this situation at least 6000 times #my writing #my fic

252 notes · View notes

vangoghmusings · 4 years

Note

pls,, may I request a Kirishima angst fic where his s/o is trapped in a burning building because she ran in to try to save people? and the authorities are being difficult and trying to stop him from going in. all the angst,, all the post angst comfort fluff.

a/n: thanks for requesting!! so sorry for getting to this so late! but i hope you still like it :) i really enjoyed writing this since i don’t do a lot of angsty/sad stuff, so thanks again for the awesome request!!

pairing: eijiro kirishima x hero!reader

word count: 1,686

Kirishima and Y/N arrived at the scene. A villain with a fire quirk had set an industrial complex aflame. While the villain was nowhere to be found, the two pro heroes arrive just in time. The building is old, and they fear it would collapse with so many civilians inside.

The two heroes ran in together. Kirishima had activated his quirk and ran inside, Y/N by his side. It was an intense rescue mission like this that made Kirishima’s stomach churn.

Y/N and Kirishima had worked side by side at the same agency from the time he had graduated UA High. Y/N had graduated from Shiketsu High. Despite the rivalry between alma maters, the two got incredibly close. Kirishima had developed feelings that led him to pine after them constantly, while Y/N was incredibly oblivious. He started his day bringing them tea and breakfast and ended it with face-times and phonecalls. Nothing made him happier than seeing her grin at the smell of warm tea or her name on his screen. And yet, despite all his efforts, Y/N was utterly clueless. Kirishima knew he loved her, but he’d never admit it to himself, or anyone else for that matter.

They gave each other a quick nod of reassurance before parting ways in the building, helping as many people as they could. Kirishima picked up and held people upon his shoulders. Running back and forth, in and out of the building, he saved lives. But something was in the back of his mind. He knew Y/N’s quirk wasn’t fit for a place of smoke and immense heat. He shook his head and set another pair of civilians down outside. Y/N came rushing out, setting down more injured people. Their face was gray, covered in patches of smog and dust. They heaved a deep sigh and looked up at Kirishima with uncertainty.

“There’s a boiler room that's been unchecked.”

Kirishima furrowed his brows.

“Boiler room? Y/N that's the pit of the flames, whoever’s in there is already dead-”

“That's a guess I can’t believe in. Heroes risk their lives Red Riot,” They said with a soft smile. It was an attempt to reassure him, but it didn’t help. Before he could stop them, Y/N ran back inside. They were already inside, but something shifted. Literally.

Kirishima’s eyes widened in horror as the ceilings of the complex began to crumble. The wood had already been set aflame, but now the floors above were beginning to collapse. The scream ripped through his chest before he could process what he was seeing. The building was going to collapse, with Y/N in it. They would be dead for sure.

“Wait!”

A police officer stopped him, placing their hand on his chest.

“Red Riot, please do not risk your life-”

“Shut up!” He growled. He became more animalistic, the fear of losing them filling his veins. He had to do something and he had to be fast.

He watched as the floors above were beginning to fold in. Kirishima pushed back against the officers with strength and ran inside. Pleads for the Hero to come back, to not risk his life, were shouted, but he ignored them. His life meant nothing if Y/N wasn’t by his side.

He groaned in pain as the ashes seared his eyes. He got down on his knees, his gaze averting the heavy smoke. His eyes darted around in search of the stairwell. Once it was spotted he ran towards it, skipping the steps with a leap. He was right, the flames were incredibly high here.

“Y/N?” He shouted. He looked around, trying his best to ignore the burning ache the flames were conducting as they licked him. He tried his best to look through the smoke, and then he spotted them.

Y/N was pinned down under a metal beam that fallen, crushing their lungs. Kirishima lunged forward, using as much possible force from his quirk to lift up the beam. He yelled as he held the beam on his back, balancing it while grabbing Y/N’s body. He dropped the beam and cradled them close. There was no time to check a pulse, he knew the building was seconds from crushing both of them.

He rushed out, the clean air filling his lungs. He coughed, weakly clutching Y/N as tight as he could. As he ran, it seemed that the fire department had arrived and was beginning to hose down the flames.

“Medic, please I need a medic!”

Kirishima cried and looked down at the body in his arms. Y/N laid limply, unconscious and it seemed that they were breathing either.

“No, no, no, NO!” He roared, his shout laced with agony.

Before he knew it Y/N was whisked out of his arms and taken into an ambulance. He ran behind, weakly limping into the ambulance.

“Red Riot, this is {hero name} correct?”

He nodded to one of the many medics as the ambulance began to move. He coughed, his lungs still filled with smog. Another medic began tending to his burns and wounds. But his eyes were focused on Y/N.

An oxygen tank had been attacked to their face, pumping air into her lungs. They were breathing, which assured Kirishima that they were alive. How ever, they hadn’t awakened. And yet, he questioned how much pain they were in. The thought brought tears to his eyes. He hated it when the two left a mission and Y/N wound up injured. He always blamed himself, but they always bounced back with a smile on their face, ready for the next mission. He always admired their tenacity, it was one of the many reasons he loved them. But now, he was angered.

How could they put themselves in such deliberate danger? For pride? For a heroic moral code? He couldn’t understand. They put their lives on the line, proving that they were a better hero than himself. And that alone was another reason that he couldn’t risk to lose them.

According to the doctors, the beam had initially fallen in Y/N’s head, causing blunt force trauma to the skull. Because of that hit, the had fallen unconscious. The beam thus rolled off and pinned them in place on the floor, and that's how Kirishima found them. This is what the doctors had gathered from examining the x-ray and wounds. Y/N had entered comatose from the head trauma and had broken 5 ribs and a spinal fracture. Not to mention the burns and cuts they had endured from the fire alone.

When Kirishima heard the list of injuries they had, he practically fainted. How was he able to leave unscathed and Y/N was now stuck with a coma. One thing that granted him relief was that their ribs took the most impact if the spinal fracture had been worse, it could have pinched a nerve or vertebra, leading to paralyzation. At least that was good.

He never left Y/N’s side. Day and night he stayed at the hospital, keeping watch and waiting for any moment that they would wake up. He was missing out on missions, but it didn’t matter. No mission could be more important than missing out on seeing Y/N wake up. However, Kirishima greatly missed his daily routine. Bringing Y/N their morning tea. The smile on their face when smelling their favorite aroma. The squeeze of a grateful hug. The exciting way they’d pinch his cheeks when they wanted him to smile. The “oh my god Eijiro, you won’t believe what just happened to me” they’d shout into the phone when he would pick up. They were all his favorite parts of the day.

Yet, he couldn’t be too upset, he was spending his entire day by their side. Although their head was bandaged and their chest was casted, he was able to hold their hand. Day in and day out he clutched their hand, rubbing circles on the back of their hand with his thumb. Despite the cuts and scratches, their skin was still soft, and it brought Kirishima peace. However, guilt consumed him when he would let go of Y/N’s hand to wipe his tears away. His eyes were buried in his palms as he sobbed. He was infuriated with himself. If he didn’t hold them back, it should’ve been his life on the line, that would’ve been the manly and dignified thing to do. But instead, he was faced with their unconscious image every morning when he woke up. He received countless of calls and visits, many to check on Y/N, but also to beg him to come home. It was degrading his mental health. He wasn’t eating, his sleep was minimal, trying his best to stay awake, and to be frank, he looked like a mess. He had left only a few times to get food and shower, but the rest of his time was dedicated to keeping watch on Y/N. He had lost his light and everyone else was able to notice it but him. Kirishima was more aware than ever of his feelings for Y/N however and had promised himself that he would tell them he loved them the moment they woke up. And that was the reason he rarely left their side.

Kirishima had come back to the hospital after going home and taking a swift shower and grabbing food. He was once again saddened by seeing an unconscious Y/N. By instinct, he pulled their hand into his and took a sip of his drink. But this time was different. Y/N held back.

The drink nearly flew out of his hand when he realized that Y/N fingers were wrapping around his hand. It was similar to that of a baby holding onto their mother’s finger. His eyes widened, he tried his best not to freak out. He wasn’t sure whether or not to call a doctor but he just froze, waiting to see what would move next. Kirishima’s breath hitched as he watched their cheekbones twitch. Slowly, after what seemed like forever, Y/N’s eyes flew open. Wincing slightly, they turned their head to see who was holding their hand.

“Eijiro?”

61 notes · View notes

smkkbert · 4 years

Text

Time for a story - Broken Arrow

Of all the windows she could see from the front of the building there was only light behind a single one of them. That told Felicity everything that she needed to know.

With large steps, she crossed the distance towards the steps and hurried upstairs. Michael and Joe, the two night guards were standing in front of the doors, smoking a nightly cigarette. As soon as Michael, the older of the two, saw her, he stubbed out his cigarette and held the door open for her.

“Good evenings, Mrs. Queen.”

“It’s rather a good night,” Felicity replied with a tired smile, “good evening to you too.”

When she stepped through the open door, she looked at Michael. He didn’t seem willing to follow her inside for the usual security check. She perked up her eyebrows at that, but he just waved it off.

“If you wanted to kill your husband, I’d assume you did it at home.”

“Very true,” Felicity replied, “which is why I will get him home now.”

“About time.” Joe, who was still standing next to the ashtray, took a puff of his cigarette. “He’s going to work himself to death otherwise.”

Felicity nodded her head in agreement before she turned away and headed towards the stairs. Joe’s words were still echoing in her head. She knew that he was right. Oliver was going to work himself to death if he continued the way he was handling things right now.

It had been a week since Starling City had been shaken by another earthquake. Again, the Glades had been hit the most. Again, buildings had collapsed and buried people beneath them for hours until they had been found. Again, people had died. Again, a Queen family member was taking responsibility for it.

This time, the Queen Family wasn’t to blame though.

Felicity shook her head slightly when she turned into the hallway which led to Oliver’s office. He was probably brooding over papers that told him the number of casualties and critically as well as slightly injured people the earthquake had caused or how much it would cost to fix the damage. Maybe, he was even reading some of those stupid articles that stated how the damage could have been minimized.

It was stupid, Felicity thought to herself and shook her head once more, how easily the Queen Family or at least Oliver had been blamed for the consequences of the earthquake. Felicity got that the people living in the Glades were putting their blame on him because they needed somebody to blame. That high-ranking politicians of the city were doing so wasn’t fair though.

Oliver hadn’t done anything wrong. He had optimized the earthquake warning machines and the fitting protocol regularly. He had handled the critical hours and days after the earthquake well. He had even gone out there and helped people in person because he hadn’t just been reacting to the earthquake as mayor but also as a good human being that cared about this city deeply. There was nothing that Oliver could blame himself for.

Still, in those eight days since the earthquake, Oliver hadn’t come home. She hadn’t seen him at all except from the few video calls they had had. No call, with or without video, had lasted longer than ten minutes though. Oliver had always been busy.

After eight nights that Oliver had caught little to no sleep, Felicity had decided that enough was enough. Somebody had to stop him. Who would do it if Felicity wasn’t going to do it?

The door to Oliver’s office was opened slightly. Felicity knew that he usually liked to have it closed because the many noises from the hallways were distracting him. Oliver heard a lot better than most people. His years in hell had trained him to have his eyes and ears open for any possible danger, and he was almost unable to switch that off now. If Oliver had left the door open, he must had been deep in thought because he even closed it when nobody was there.

Felicity put her flat hand against the door and pushed it open. Oliver was sitting behind his desk. The jacket of his suit was put over the backrest of his leather chair. He had opened the first two buttons of his shirt and he had rolled up the sleeves. His hair was tousled as he had probably torn it again and again. Although Felicity couldn’t see his face, she was sure that it looked tired if she got to take a look at it.

That Oliver didn’t notice her standing in the door told Felicity how deep in thought he was. He was hypervigilant most times, so his lack in attention said a lot about his current mental state.

When Felicity cleared her throat, Oliver flinched. He ripped his head back, looking at her with threatening eyes that grew a lot warmer once he realized that it was her standing there and nobody else. A long sigh of relief fell from his lips in one moment, be he already frowned worriedly the next.

“Are the kids alright?”

“Not really, no,” Felicity replied, stepping into his office and approaching his desk slowly, “because they haven’t seen their father in a week.”

Oliver sighed once more, closing his eyes. He kept them closed for a long moment, pinching his nasal bridge. He was shaking his head softy.

Felicity watched Oliver. Seeing his face, he looked even more exhausted than she had assumed from what she had seem from the door. The shadows under his eyes were almost black. His eyes were small and slightly swollen. He hadn’t shaved, so his stubble had actually grown a lot thicker.

Eventually, Oliver rested his head back and looked at Felicity with tired eyes. Smiling sadly, Felicity lifted her hand and put it to Oliver’s cheek. He leaned his face into her touch instantly. His nose pressed against her wrist, breathing her in.

When his eyes locked with her the next time, there was an almost defeated expression in them. He knew that she wouldn’t let him get away with what had happened the last week easily. She wouldn’t just let him apologize and come home with her. They both knew that Oliver wouldn’t be able to relax until he had got everything off his chest.

Nodding his head slightly, Oliver straightened up a little. His hands moved over the mess of papers on his desk. He pulled some of the closer, while pushing others away and even trashing some. Felicity waited patiently.

“So, our priority is to make sure that the people who have lost their homes. Some of them are living with friends and family. Others are still in the emergency homes. I have bought some multifamily homes in the names of Starling, so everyone can move into provisory homes by the end of the next week. I have also made sure that the building companies that are assigned to rebuilt the collapsed buildings are supported.”

Felicity could see that Oliver was calming down as he talked to her. She guessed that everyone had been so busy with their own assignments in handling this crisis that Oliver hadn’t had many people to talk with aside from the daily meetings that had taken place. Oliver needed someone to tell him that he was doing great and doing everything he could though. John usually did that for him, but he was handling crisis management in regards to some crime issues and currently out of town for that.

“Apart from that, the need for psychological help has grown immensely. The new earthquake has triggered the old trauma that a lot of people still have after the Undertaking. I have located two advice centers for people in need.”

Still listening to everything Oliver told her, Felicity got up from the desk. She walked around him to take position behind him. Her hands moved to his shoulders, massaging them. She could feel the tight knots that had built in his muscles.

“I have already visited some of the patients that are currently treated at Starling General,” Oliver continued to explain, “and there are problems with taking care of the family’s children in six cases. I have managed to shelter all these kids with responsible local families, so neither of them had to be given into the care of child protective service and- oh my god.”

When Felicity dug her fingers tightly into some particularly hard tension in Oliver’s muscles, his eyes rolled back into his head before they fluttered shut. He leaned more and more back, pressing his tight back into the touch of her fingers. His head fell back onto the backrest of his chair. His fingers grabbed her wrists, keeping her hands exactly where they were.

“Sleeping on the couch is not good for you.”

“I have slept on worse.”

Felicity knew exactly what Oliver had been going through in the years that had followed the Gambit’s shipwreck. Sleeping on cold ground had been the least of his problems back then. It did offer a quite visual impression of what he must have gone through though.

With a sigh, Felicity wrapped her arms around Oliver’s shoulders from behind and leaned her face against his. Oliver moved his cheek against hers a couple of times.

“You are doing great,” Felicity whispered with her lips brushing against his ear, tightening her arms around him, “the best anyone could.”

Felicity knew that Oliver wouldn’t exactly agree with her. He knew that he was doing well, but he was always looking for ways to improve. He was that kind of person, always aiming for more even if he was doing great already.

“You have to relax now,” Felicity told him with soft voice and kissed the shell of his ear, “because you can only do more of the good things you already have been doing when you are relaxed and energized to do so.”

Oliver sighed, snuggling his head against the side of her face once more. When he turned his head, he brushed a featherlight kiss against the corners of her lips.

“I am not sure that I can relax then.”

Pulling back slightly, Felicity watched Oliver’s face. She could see that he meant it. He had honest doubt that he could relax. He wanted to because he knew how important it was to her and to him too, but he didn’t know if he could. There were too many things stuck in his head and too many thoughts making his stomach tighten.

“Back-up plan then.”

“Back-up pl- hm…”

The moment Felicity stepped around his chair and dropped her coat to the floor, the words died on Oliver’s lips and he hummed instead. His right eyebrow perked up slightly while he was letting his gaze travel down her body. She was only wearing one of his shirts, panties and her shoes since she had already been in bed when she had decided that it was time to get her man home.

“I figured that if you couldn’t be convinced easily,” Felicity said slowly, straddling his lap and pressing the juncture of her legs against where he was already growing hard in his pants, “if I came with good arguments.”

“I am already convinced.” Oliver put his hands to her hips, pulling her even closer and rubbing his hips against hers. “My body could need some motivation to pass out though, and we both know what happens after sex.”

Felicity chuckled, knowing exactly what he was referring to. Oliver usually passed out within ten minutes after sex. If he had to, he could delay his death-like sleep until night, but sex always made him quite tired. Hopefully, it would help him here too.

“It’s going to be my pleasure to help you relax.”

With that, Felicity leaned forward and captured Oliver’s lips in a kiss. It started out slow and gentle. It was a sweet way of welcoming each other back. There were no words needed for both of them to understand that they loved each other and had missed each other terribly. They hadn’t spent a week apart in like forever.

Soon, their kiss grew into more though. Their lips opened to the touch of each other’s tongues. They danced together slowly and intimately. Felicity’s hips shifted closer against Oliver’s in response. They picked up a rhythm of their own, thrusting against Oliver’s hips at the same time that her tongue stroked against his.

Their rocking movements spurred them. Oliver’s hands moved from Felicity’s hips over her legs to her knees. From there, they started a slow path up her legs again. They pushed the hem of his shirt up her body, getting them out of the way for the touch of his hands.

His touch felt so good, Felicity thought to herself and thanked him for the warmth he spent on her skin by gently biting into his bottom lip. Goosebumps were spreading on her skin wherever he touched her, and a warm shiver of absolute comfortableness was running down her spine.

“Oliver.”

She whispered his name into the kiss. It was a sign of how turned on she was and how she wanted to move things along. At the same time, she knew that whispering his name that hoarsely while her hips were thrusting against his turned him on beyond belief. She could literally feel the blood rushing towards his groin.

Oliver stroked his tongue against hers one last time before he grabbed hold of her hips and pushed her further away from him. He grabbed hold of his belt, but Felicity was too impatient to wait until he had unfastened it. She pushed his hands away, making work of his belt quickly. She unbuttoned his pants and lowered the zipper at the same time. Oliver wiggled his hips, helping her to pull his pants and boxers down in one go.

Hovering over Oliver’s lap, she stroked her hand through his hair and pulled at some strands lightly. Oliver angled his head back. His eyes locked with hers. His pupils were blown wide, and his fingers tightened around her small hips.

Felicity felt her heart skipping a beat. She had missed Oliver so much, even more than she had known so far. She knew that she was her own person, and she had insisted on having something for herself for a long time already. Still, she only felt like she was whole if Oliver was around. He was such a great part of herself, and she didn’t feel inferior when she admitted that she needed him to feel whole. It just showed how close they were, and how they had made the right decision by getting married to one another.

Slowly and with her eyes still locked onto Oliver’s, Felicity sank down onto Oliver’s cock. He stretched her perfectly in that special way that was so familiar and still felt so excitingly new every time. Her slick walls welcomed Oliver gladly, snuggling around his hard cock and squeezing down on it gently.

Once he was seated deep inside of her, they both stilled. Oliver’s fingers tightened around Felicity’s hips for a moment longer before they moved up her body. Through the thin fabric of his shirt, she could feel the warmth of his hands. They made her feel warm and caused her to sink even more against Oliver’s chest.

When Oliver’s fingers reached the nape of her neck, tickling the sensitive skin there, Felicity released a hum. As low as the sound she made was, it vibrated through all of her body and made her need for Oliver grow even more.

Oliver put his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her down towards him. Their lips met in a searing kiss while their hips picked up a slow, almost lazy, rhythm. Felicity sighed into the kiss, her hands grabbing the fabric of his shirt at the shoulders and tightening around it.

With the way they moved, their hips thrusted together harmonically. Whenever Felicity thrusted down, Oliver thrusted up to meet his rhythm. Her clit rubbed against his pelvic. Both made her pleasure rise quickly, causing her to feel hot and cold at the same time and making her need only more.

When it came to Oliver, she always needed more. She needed more of his hands roaming over her body. She needed more of his lips stealing hot kisses from her mouth. She needed more of his hips thrusting against hers and touching spots inside of her that only he had ever managed to stimulate.

Their joint moans echoed through the room as they moved towards the peak of their pleasure. Since the door to the hallway was still left ajar, Felicity was sure that it could be heard outside of Oliver’s office too. The building was empty though, so Felicity couldn’t care less. Actually, the thought of how their sounds of pleasure were echoing through the entire building only turned her on more.

Soon, Felicity felt the peak of her pleasure nearing. Her need for breath grew too much to take at the same time. She pulled back, finally managing to take in a shallow but urgently needed breath. Oliver tried to chase her lips for a second, still wanting more. As soon as his eyes locked with hers, he could see how close was so. Instead of trying to chase her lips any longer, he stayed with his eyes locked on hers.

Their thrusts grew quicker and more urgent. Their hips chased towards the relief they both wanted and needed. Felicity’s stomach was tightening. All of her thoughts, her feelings and actions were revolving around that release. She wanted and needed it so much.

With only a couple more thrusts, they both fell over the edge. Their moans turned into one when Felicity angled her head down and caught Oliver’s lips with hers. Kissing each other, their hips continued to move together lazily, trying to get the last of their pleasure.

Once the last waves of their pleasure had run through their body, Felicity broke the kiss. Her lungs were burning for air. Resting her forehead against Oliver’s, she smiled. She knew that, if she told him how out of breath she’d feel, he’d joke about working on her condition. She’d remind him that the first to have failed their phenomenal sex life had been his cock or little Oliver as Felicity liked to call him just to tease her husband.

“What are you smiling about?” Oliver asked her and nudged her nose with his. “What is so amusing?”

Chuckling slightly, Felicity pulled back and looked at Oliver. “Just us.”

“You thought about your bad condition,” Oliver guessed correctly, “and then you thought about Little Oliver. Of course you blended out the part where your vagina was so exhausted that your doc told you not to have sex anymore, right?”

Felicity grinned. Oliver knew her so very well. It was why her marriage with Oliver meant the world to her. She had never felt as understood as she felt when she was with him. She had grown up feeling misunderstood all of the time. With Oliver, she felt utterly safe, protected and understood though. Everyone who was in a relationship should feel the way she was feeling when she was with Oliver.

“Of course.”

She leaned forward to peck his lips gently. As soon as her lips touched his, Oliver framed her face with his hands and deepened the kiss though. Felicity couldn’t do anything against it. She just melted against his chest, responding to the kiss.

Oliver was the one to break the kiss this time. He looked at her with a soft smile that made Felicity brush her thumb against the dimple there.

“Let’s go home,” she whispered, “it’s time to go home.”

Oliver nodded his head. “Yes, it is.”

They cleaned themselves up before they left City Hall hand in hand, on their way back home to recover from the long hours without each other.

* * *

I'm sorry, guys! I am going through a terrible writer's block. I barely haven't written anything in the last weeks, and I can't get myself to it either. Maybe posting some chapters will help though...

* * *

@fannaz @promiseyoullbepatientwithme @bytemegeekette @felicity-said-just-in-case @phanseptiic @orangeisorange @mspotatohead14 @whentheheavenfades @emmaamelia95 @smoakingskye @seaolicity @ourwritinginvein @1022bridgetp @felicityqueenforever @leagueofolicity17 @yryssss @myhauntedblacksoul @sherlock44 @sinceriouslybea @olivyflavescentdeer @olicitys-castle @ofnothingcharming @vaelisamaza @smoakedandcharmed @alexisa1206 @mysaudadespt2 @florence-bubbles @addictiontelly @queens-of-arrows @memcjo @hysterical-for-joshifer-blog @oswinelevenforever @olicitylovemaking @bandanab310 @mymusiclove101 @lynslogic @scarletqueen23 @olicityshipper19 @alex-wesley @arrows-4ever @unabashedlynerdypatrol @louehmysoul @ligiapimenta @chattyyana @charlie-leau @coal000 @samcrowleys @ishippolivia @julianegomesqueen @malafle @miriam1779 @charlinert @melaux @ontheolicityship @myshipperlife @wrightainsley @lexi9515 @ladygreenwood @multi-fandom-crazy-fangirl @morinamel @mje-thomas @kebarry @canadianheartgirl @nannett2307 @almondblossomme @kathrynelizabeth89 @imdfabulous @mrt2501 @arsipaci14 @salasvia @brandis91 @cainc3 @morganmiguess @pr0fessi0nal-fangurl @iamisalima @nessafrancis-blog @jonhdiggle @niki-is-amazing @universed-posts @hopeful-warrior @senoritaswiftie @bellemmie @green-arrows-of-karamel @iheartarrow @olicityovereverything @oliverfel4 @olicity-in-the-heart @fullychippedcreation @geemarie @everything-but-normal-cat @myarroworld @tjmartinez @pleasantfanandstudent @j69confessional2 @scentedcolorpirate @icanica74 @tjmartinez98 @certainmentalityface @tatianadamaceno @ryelew @wildwillowzepplin @missafairy @letsplaymurde-r @lipizette @positivepiper @nuttymilkshakehologram @laksagirl-blog @turnupthemusicandscream @pumpernickle93 @onceuponanolicity @1106angel @jaspertown @fadinglands @morganashimi83 @mochababychristy @omglovechrissie @mariejr88-blog @thetaufactor @onceuponanolicity @speakandseethetruth @bri206 @aglasgo @geemarie @pineprincess @nerdgirljen @eternal-olicity14 @allyouhadtodowas-stay-stay-stay @lovelycssefan @tsseract @flowerandsunshine @dcnmarvelgamergeek @blondeeoneexox @monetsmark @bb-olicity @mashamarty @rulerofsilence @erika-amber @nothingmorethanmyotps @kayleenyc @tonto16 @olicityfluv @olicitea1990 @haahaaa2408 @pattid1 @faegal04 @24karatgem @wrldtravler @readerkas @olicity-beliver @greencoffeecups @snorlaxishere @sonothappening118

(If you want to be tagged or untagged, just let me know. :))

24 notes · View notes

minalous · 5 years

Text

golden clouds (m)

pairing: yoongi x reader ft hoseok x reader & taehyung x reader

description/warnings: dom!yoongi, sub!reader, sweet yoongi boyfriend, idol!yoongi, yoongi is a daddy dom, mature sexual content, choking, oral (m receiving), rough oral, dirty talk, all of them are drunk except for yoongi (be safe when drinking), vaginal/anal fingering (f receiving), anal (f receiving), unprotected sex, double penetration, the reader is older than hoseok and taehyung (noona kink) || Yoongi only wanted to write a new song but you had more in mind.

genre: smut (pure filth, I am sorry)

words: 3.9k

Music echoes inside the walls of your boyfriend’s studio, Yoongi is working for the next album that he is up to release by the end of this year. You are sitting on his lap while he is creating one of his masterpieces inside his studio, away from everybody with no interruptions. His soft hands touching your warm skin after a long day of him neglecting your needs and he is ever so sweet.

It is devastating how much you miss him; even when he is right here with you right now, even when he is touching you, even when you can feel his breath on your neck you feel that you miss him. The need to feel him closer to you is bubbling inside you, there is one thing that Yoongi loves and that is when you suck him dry. He loves to feel your sweet mouth around his cock, this is what you will give him right now.

The moment he feels you shuffling on his lap and fall on your knees, he knows. Yoongi smirks at the sight of you like that, obedient, ready to offer him pleasure with no intention of asking anything in return. You are simply his loving and caring kitten. When Yoongi revealed to you he is a Dom, your stomach flipped in excitement. Had he known earlier how much you would enjoy to be treated so roughly in bed, he would have shown his dominant side far earlier.

“The boys will be here in any minute, kitten.” his voice sounds so sexy and husky

“But daddy I want your cock. Please, please?” you pout softly

There is nothing he can do, it’s as if the world stops for the both of you when sex gets involved. You have tried so many different toys and kinks in bed with Yoongi, not once have you felt intimidated or unsafe in his arms. Yoongi’s presence may be overwhelming when he dominates you but he is so caring afterwards that it worth it to go through the new experiences. He is worth it. Yoongi asks you, always asks for your permission beforehand. This is the reason you chose him as your partner, your lover, your dominant.

“What if daddy is not done until they come, kitten?” he asks you tenderly while your hands fall on his zipper

“I don’t know” you haven’t thought about it and it saddens you that there is not enough time

“Look at me kitten” eyes darting towards his way when his fingers caress yours softly “if you are quiet and stay quiet with my cock in your mouth, you can stay with daddy until the boys leave, okay sweetheart?”

You nod so eagerly, your heart almost exploding in the idea of doing something so explicit and naughty in the presence of his friends, your friends. Yoongi helps you unzip his jeans, his cock falling heavy against his clothed stomach. He is so thick, your hand barely able to close around his cock. It would be a lie if you said that girth is not important for a guy’s cock, or the look of it. And Yoongi’s is as beautiful as he is, with pink head matching his beautiful lips, an angry vein that you lick teasingly, eliciting a loud groan from Yoongi. The beauty of this man would be the death of you one day.

“Ding, dong” you hear the bell of his studio ring

“I will let them in baby. Listen to me now. I will throw my jumper on my lap. You stay hidden, kitten. Yes?” the softness in his voice in contrast with the lustful darkness in his eyes sends shivers down your spine

“Yes, daddy”

The footsteps of the boys as they enter the room warn you to be as quiet as you can, the risk to be found is great but the burning fire on your heat is much greater to have you stop.

“Hyuuung! Yoooongi - hyung” both Hoseok and Taehyung exclaim before falling on the sofa

“Are you guys drunk?”

“Only a little bit, hyung” Taehyung says

“We drunk 5 bottles of champagne, but we are not drunk!” Hoseok adds

The drunkenness on their voice reassures you to continue on your task, your tongue playing with the tip of Yoongi’s cock, the small twitch you feel on your tongue on the smallest of lick you give, boosts your confidence on continuing.

“Fuck, kitten. Keep going” Yoongi whispers, his hand patting softly on your head

“Hmm??” you hear Taehyung

“Sleep Tae” Yoongi hisses “you are both gonna be fucked tomorrow”

Under the safety of his desk, you keep giving him head, him sitting conveniently on his large computer chair. His cock so hot in the palm of your hand, the bittersweet taste of the precum has you rub your thighs together for any short of relief. Yoongi pushes slightly his hips against your mouth to urge you to take him deeper inside and you certainly obey. The thickness of his cock makes you open it wider as much as you possibly can, saliva drooling in the corners of it every time you bop your head, his cock getting further into your mouth.

Yoongi moves his chair back a little after he checks that the boys are far gone into dreamland, his eyes wandering on your face to take in the wonderful image of you with his cock in your mouth.

“Your mouth is heaven, kitten” Yoongi growls through gritted teeth

He is too lost, too fucked up to look into your eyes but you can see him losing himself because of you. His hand rests on your head while he starts moving his hips harder to get himself off in your mouth, pushing you to your limits but you love it too much when he uses your mouth to cum.

“Take it like a good little slut, kitten” your eyes water the moment the tip of his hard cock hits the back of your neck, your nails digging into his jeans, marking the flesh of his thighs and you feel him flexing under the palm of your hand. Yoongi hisses to the immense pain mixed by the pleasure you’re giving him, nothing can stop him though and he keeps pushing you further until you break from how good he makes you feel as he uses your mouth the way he uses your wet hole.

“Do you like it when I use your mouth as I do with your tight cunt, kitten?” he says in a low growl

“Hmm? Do you like it little slut? Ohh - fuck. Yes, like that baby. Such a good little slut”

His expressions are the hottest thing you have seen, a pained lustful expression because of how much he holds back to not come into your mouth before wrecking you, before marking you as his and filling you up until you can’t take it anymore.

“Kitten, let’s go upstairs to finish this”

Yoongi helps you get up carefully but your legs feel numb after so much time on your knees in such small space, your weight falling against the desk. The noise you make has the both of you turn your attention to the sofa and you get terrified when you realise Taehyung and Hoseok are looking at you.

“This is not what you think” Yoongi says calmly

“Your cock is still hard and dangling between your zipper” Taehyung snorts

“Your cock looks super hard. No homo” Hoseok adds

“Yours is much prettier, hyung” Taehyung tells Hoseok and you laugh

“Wow” is all you can say

“You must be really good at sucking, kitten” Hoseok’s words are aimed at you and Yoongi honestly gets frozen on his spot, putting his hard length back into his jeans

“How much did you see?” Yoongi asks, curiosity dripping from his voice

“Pretty much everything. But we are far too drunk, hyung. We won’t remember much tomorrow” which is true. This has happened many times before

“We are sorry about it, noona” both of them seem regretful

Yoongi turns your way with a wicked smile plastered on his lips, his hands travelling on your lower back.

“What do you want me to do for their mischief, kitten?”

“It’s okay, daddy. It’s not their fault they caught us” you tell Yoongi and he turns his attention back to them

“You are lucky she is so good.” the way he drags the words on his throat makes you tremble from arousal “so good”

“Daddy, I am wet. Can we please go upstairs now?” you whisper to his ear

“Yes, kitten.” Yoongi is almost ready to open the door, your hand into his but he stops into his tracks. He furrows his eyebrows and he is looking back and forth to you and your overly drunk friends on the sofa

“Kitten?”

“Yes daddy?”

“Do you remember when you said how much you like the way Hoseok and Taehyung dance on stage?” he asks

“Yes, daddy. I remember” you nod happily

“Do you remember how turned on you were when I was away on the tour and you said you liked Hoseok in the Dior outfit?” you playfully poke his side and look at Tae and Hobi shyly

“I didn’t know that hyung! Why didn’t you tell me, noona? I would wear it for you” Hoseok almost jumps up enthusiastically

“What about me? I don’t turn you on, noona?” Taehyung asks in a pout

“You do.. When you were singing pied piper, I kept looking at you” the pink on your cheeks gives away how affected you are from this conversation

“Does my kitten turn you on?” Yoongi’s lips land on your neck, his firm torso pushing against your back, feeling his warmth on you

“Is this a trick question?” Hoseok asks, dumbfounded

“If you are honest about it, I will reward you” Yoongi’s dominant side is showing and you can tell by the way he protectively wraps his hands around your waist

“If it’s all about honesty, then yes. I’d fuck her” Hoseok is brutally honest and you blame it on the alcohol

“Taehyung said he had jerked off on her once when we saw her on the jacuzzi with you” Hoseok adds shamefully

“What the fuck Hoseok!” Taehyung slaps the back of Hoseok’s head and he immediately apologises to you

“I didn’t mean to. The image of you popped on my head and it was too late to stop jerking off. I am sorry” he sounds very sincere in his apology but it makes you laugh

“Apology accepted” you send him a smile to reassure him it’s okay now

“What about you show my kitten how much she turns you on?”

The four of you exchange stares mixed of confusion and curiosity. The air around you seems thinner, the heated stares given from the three men surrounding you makes you feel more desirable than ever but you need Yoongi to give you reassurance that everything is okay.

“It can be an early birthday gift for me baby.” Yoongi kisses your forehead and turns off most of the lights inside the studio

“The studio is soundproof but I don’t want anyone to know that we are here” he adds

Yoongi pushes you softly towards the sofa’s direction “They are yours baby. Ask them what you want, tell them where to touch you.”

“You will not touch me?” you pout “I need you, daddy”

“When you are done with them, we will go upstairs, kitten. For now, I will watch you get fucked”

The words spilling from his mouth only serve to set your heat on fire, to make you even more wet. You turn your attention at Hoseok and Taehyung now, their legs spread for your display and it is quite the view, tempting you to sit down on their lap. Hoseok pat his thighs motioning you to choose him between the two of them and you do. You sit on Hoseok’s lap as if you own it.

“Daddy, can I kiss him?” you ask Yoongi

“There are no limits on what you can do, kitten. If anything makes you feel uncomfortable use your safe word. You remember it?”

“Candle, daddy”

“Good girl, baby” he responds, now sitting on his chair having his eyes glued on you

“Can I kiss you, daddy?” you ask Hoseok but his attention goes back to Yoongi

“He is asking you, Hobi. Not me” Yoongi points at Hoseok and you can see him pointing at himself as well

“You want to call me daddy?” Hoseok’s voice drops an octave

“Yes, please” your voice drips of honey and it doesn’t take a lot to convince him, your hips rolling over his clothed erection is the best way to have him loosen up

When Hoseok closes the space between your lips he takes his time to taste you, a chaste, deep kiss is the beginning of your downfall inside his arms. He tastes of red wine, a sweet taste that has you ask for more, his tongue slowly swirling around yours. The game he plays is to see how long it will take you to ask for more, how long until you need his cock inside you. But you already know it won’t take long.

Out of nowhere you feel another hand reaching underneath Yoongi’s baggy hoodie that barely covers your thighs, the new feeling is welcomed with goosebumps spreading all over your body. Taehyung’s hand reaches to unclasp your bra, hoodie long gone with Hoseok’s help. The moment you break your kiss with Hoseok, Taehyung crashes his lips on yours and he tastes sweeter than Hoseok, his tongue reaching yours hazily, his pace faster than your liking but it excites you how eager he is for you.

The touches never stop, you can feel them touching you everywhere, senses overwhelmed from the roughness of the kisses they leave all over your neck and breasts. You are certain there are going to be bruises everywhere in the morning but you don’t care, they are going to be your trophies for your daddy’s reward. When your mind crossed the thought of having their fingers inside you, Taehyung reaches down to feel how wet you are.

“She is so wet” Taehyung growls and with one sharp movement he tears your panties “Do you want my fingers inside your pussy, baby?” he adds

You nod eagerly but it’s not sufficient for him.

“Tell me, kitten. Use your words”

“Please fuck me with your fingers, daddy” you obey to Taehyung’s request and it sounds so perfect to hear him call you kitten

Hoseok helps you get up as the both of them undress in front of you. You have seen them half naked before inside the house but nothing has prepared you for the feast they are offering you right now. Both of them have beautiful smooth golden skin, well built torso and their thighs, oh god their thighs. It’s such a shame they do not show them much more often. And then you see their cocks. So big, so thick, so hard. Taehyung is bigger than Yoongi but Hoseok is thicker if possible than both Yoongi and Taehyung.

When Taehyung gets you back on his lap, he pulls you down on his cock, making you feel it. He looks at you through hooded eyes, his long wavy hair falling in front of them and he looks so ethereal, out of this world. His fingers find their way back to your wet pussy and he rubs your lips, spreading them to feel your wetness. He seems to know what he is doing, smoothly inserting two fingers to prepare you for his cock.

“You are so tight, kitten” he groans “Is this why you cannot get enough, hyung?”

“Savour the moment because you will never find a pussy like that” Yoongi tells him, feeling proud that he has you, that you are his

Eyes glued on yours to find that one sweet spot that will have you get weak under his touch, he feels the need to have you call him daddy the same way you scream it for Yoongi. It’s not a competition for him, it’s a need to satisfy you. Your hand searches desperately for Hoseok who is sitting right next to you, moving his hand slowly up and down his hard cock. You put your hand on top of his, mimicking his movements and the long moan you drag out of him sounds like a melody to your ears. They sound so hot when they feel your touch.

“More” you whisper to Hoseok

“What is it, baby?” he asks you

“I need more, daddy” you tell him hand moving faster, finger rubbing the tip of his cock gently

“Fuck, baby. You want my fingers too?” he growls

“Yes, please” you breathe out while Taehyung fucks you faster with his fingers

Hoseok kneels beside you on the sofa, hand reaching at the back of your ass, spanking you hard. You squeeze hard on Taehyung’s fingers and he hisses against your neck.

“She likes it, hyung” he tells Hoseok “do it again”

Hoseok spanks you harder on your other cheek and he gets the same reaction from you, his hands reaching for your tight ring of muscles and you can hear him spitting between your cheeks. It turns you on how dirty that makes you feel, to have two men preparing you for their hard cocks. The new intrusion on your ass has you throw your head back and it makes you feel some way. His long fingers scissoring your tight hole slowly, offering you the same pleasure as Taehyung.

“Can you take both of us, kitten? Hmm? Can you handle us?” Hoseok’s husky voice sounds so hot and you almost scream to his question

“Yes, please, yes. I can take both of you”

There is no warning from Taehyung when he lifts you up to align his cock on your wet hole, pushing it all the way in, stretching you so roughly but the burning from the stretch is so deliciously euphoric that it makes you tear up from pleasure. Taehyung stays still to let you adjust to his size, leaving room for Hoseok to get inside you. Hoseok is standing behind you, almost in perfect level with your ass and he slowly pushes inside, whispering curses under his breath on how tight you are.

“How does it feel, kitten?” they both ask

“I feel so full.. I love it” you don’t even know how you manage to speak because your mind feels numb

Hoseok is the one to move first, his hips slowly rolling to move inside you and you can feel how big he is, how good his cock feels inside your ass. Taehyung is the one to follow, thrusting his hips slowly but harshly and to have both of them move inside you is too much. It’s too much but in a greedy way; you need more, you crave more.

“More.. Please more” you beg, looking deep into Taehyung’s eyes

“You are such a greedy cock slut, kitten” Yoongi says, reminding you he watches everything

“Do as she asks boys, fuck her until she loses her mind”

Yoongi’s effect is immediate as always, both of your holes clenching around their cocks and the moment they start fucking you the way you have asked them to, your mind gets clouded from lust. Your eyes are fixed on Yoongi, your head leaning against Taehyung’s shoulder to see how fucked Yoongi’s expression is. You need Yoongi to see how good and obedient you are for him.

Hoseok doesn’t stop filling you up with his cock as Taehyung gives you what you want, cock hitting all the spots no one has ever hit. The pain of having two cocks wrecking you at the same time is more than ecstatic, it’s the kind of pain you would love to feel every day, to have those men fill up your holes over and over again. You are not a fan of anal but damn Jung Hoseok; his hands spreading your cheeks as he spits over your hole to have his cock slide deeper inside you, the nerves he is hitting every time he rolls his hips show you how experienced he is, how well he knows what he is doing to you.

Taehyung is an expert on fucking you so well that your pussy is creaming all over his cock, he reaches your sweet spot repeatedly and you don’t hold back, you let out screams of pleasure. You keep screaming daddy because you know that even when those two perfect men are fucking you, you cannot wait until the time Yoongi is going to claim you as his. You are being greedy, his little obedient slut.

And as much as you want to cum, even when they keep pushing the correct buttons you need Yoongi to touch you.

“Please, daddy” you beg with tears threatening to fall from the corners of your eyes

Yoongi knows, he knows the one thing to make you fall over the edge and cum hard, that one thing he craves to do to see you squirm. Both of the boys look at Yoongi stand right beside you, the tent inside his pants is more than obvious, he is not as eager to touch himself as someone else would be. Your eyes are keeping track on his fingers slowly wrapping around your neck, taking control over your body. This is what you need, what you want.

“Cum, kitten” these two words are all it takes for you to whimper and cum harder than ever, tears falling on your cheeks. Your pulsating holes trigger Taehyung and Hoseok to fill you up with their cum, making your insides feel warm and satisfied. The three of you are so tired and wrecked but mostly you.

“Are you okay, kitten?” Yoongi asks you while motioning to the boys to move so he can help you

“Put my hoodie on baby, let’s go get you cleaned up” he says so sweetly

Yoongi carefully helps you dress on, limbs tired over the excessive use. Before he opens the door of his studio to leave, you give a kiss to Taehyung and Hoseok.

“Thank you for tonight. I know that neither of you were drunk. You were so bad at acting it out” their eyes widen and Taehyung slaps Hoseok’s arm

“I told you not to overdo it” he hisses

You laugh at how easily they give out that it was all an act and Yoongi kisses the top of your head after he says goodnight to them. As he closes the door he questions you about knowing everything all along.

“If you knew, why did you agree, kitten?”

“Because that is what daddy wanted and whatever daddy wants, daddy gets”

Your answer is more than satisfying for Yoongi but all he wants right now is to fuck their cum out of your holes.

“Are you ready for more baby?” he asks but you know this is not a question rather than a warning for what it is to come “because I won’t stop until you are full of my cum”

#yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #taehyung x reader #ksmutclub #magicshopnet #yoongi smut #taehyung smut #hoseok smut #dom!yoongi #bts smut #yoongi fanfic #hoseok fanfic #taehyung fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #yoongi scenarios #hoseok scenarios #taehyung scenarios

464 notes · View notes