#but they don't know anything else and i'm not even sure they would step away that easily. married to the job doesn't even begin to describe
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secret rhymes - 48. last words (half-written)
a/n: shorter than i thought it would be
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your uber drops you off down the road from the pinned mark on lauren's location. you thank him and head out, making sure the cap and hoodie hide your features well.
the air in hongdae is thick with neon lights and crowds, but none of it registers as you make your way toward the bar. your heart and head pound from frustration and anticipation as you text lauren once more—hopefully this'll be the last time.
she tells you to meet in the alley nearby, which, definitely irks you since your last experience in an alley in hongdae consisted of you bumping into a couple getting all frisky. you shiver at the memory.
before she can spot you, you beat her to it. she's leaning against the wall, arms crossed, looking slightly disheveled. there's a hazy redness in her eyes that tells you she's not completely sober.
when you step closer, she blinks up at you, attempting a smirk that only twists your heart. "didn't think you'd actually come," she muses, but there's an edge to her voice.
you don't waste time. "cut the act."
her smirk falters.
"i know everything," you continue, voice firm. "you set me up. those pictures, everything... you planned that."
she exhales sharply, her gaze darting away from you. "yeah, so what?" she doesn’t even try to make up a lie, maybe this is characters development, you think.
you exhale sharply. "why?"
lauren lets out a humorless laugh before relaxing against the wall again, giving you a half-lidded look. "because I hate it," she admits, "you're famous, you're a star, and—" her voice cracks, and she swallows hard before continuing. "it's not even that, I mean, I've got my own success too. but really? all your songs, do you know what it's like hearing them everywhere? i scroll on social media and somehow you've made it to the sound. you're getting praised for the lyrics and all I can think of is how I'm the one behind them."
your chest tightens as you stare at her, the raw emotion in her voice cracks you slightly.
"i regret everything. there, i said it." she whispers, her voice thick. then before you can react, she steps forward, pressing her forehead against your shoulder as a sob shakes through her.
despite everything, you keep her against you, letting her cry for a moment. the weight of her sadness weighs you down too.
you step back immediately after, detaching yourself gently. lauren looks up at you, her eyes searching for something—forgiveness, maybe.
you tighten your jaw before saying, "i'm done, lauren." your voice is quiet but firm. "this is the last time. i don't ever want to see you again."
your final words completely break her. she flinches, her lips parting as if to argue, but she doesn't. she knows what she's done—and her consequences.
before she can say anything else, you turn and walk away without looking back. the sounds of chatter and music in hongdae swallow you whole, but the weight in your chest lingers.
—
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one of these days we're going to talk about how in different ways the mains are not being seen as people that much anymore
#i think you see this the most with leon obviously bc he literally had no other choice but work for the government#jill went through so much she deserves to retire and heal from what they did to her and instead she's still on the field#chris and claire i feel like they're tricky in the sense that they might have chosen different paths about their fight#but they don't know anything else and i'm not even sure they would step away that easily. married to the job doesn't even begin to describe#some shit goes down and they get called in bc they allegedly can do and survive anything. their track record proves that much#but they're all expendable and will be kept in the dark about things even tho the world is pretty much still running on it's axis bc of them
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Sukuna, a middle aged man jaded by the harsh realities of his life. He steps outside for a smoke nearby a convenience store, completely bored out of his mind.
A lady is handing out flyers nearby, although nobody is bothering to look her way, including sukuna himself.
You approach the man who's getting irritated by the lighter that refuses to work in his hand.
"Hello there, sir. Would you be interested in taking up classes for arts and craft?" You offer the cute flyer up.
Sukuna scoffs. Is she serious?
"No thanks."
"Are you sure? You look like you could use a bit more colour in your life."
He's too exhausted at this point to get angry at a random woman on the street.
"...You're not too far off, i suppose," sukuna mutters, still trying to get the spark to stay on his lighter. "Even so, I'm not interested in the likes of arts and craft. Do i look like a child to you?"
You withdraw your offer of your flyer, and inspect him for a moment.
"Arts and craft can be enjoyed by anyone, regardless of age. But moving past that... you seem a bit down. If you'd like to confide in a stranger for a night, I'm happy to listen."
What a strange, persistent woman. Sukuna gives up on his lighter, and takes out the unlit cigarette in his mouth to think back for a moment. One thing does come to mind.
"I'm not feeling down. But i remembered something, now that i think about it..." he confesses, feeling weirdly compelled to tell you about it.
"Today is supposed to be my birthday."
Birthdays have never been special to him. Nobody celebrated his birth as a child, and in turn, he's never paid attention to the birthdays of others.
"Oh, happy birthday. Are you doing anything special for yourself today?"
"No. I've never cared for birthdays. And I'm getting too old for that anyway."
"Well, that won't do... Hold on for a second."
Puzzled, sukuna looks back at you but you've already gone inside the convenience store. Whatever you're up to now, couldn't possibly be more enticing than getting in a proper smoke right now. Sukuna begins to zone out.
He only snaps out of it when something mildly cold grazes past his cheek, leaving a ticklish and moist sensation on his skin as it disappears upon impact.
Bubbles. Bubbles are flying past him, and floating away into the sky.
For a moment, he gets mesmerised by the swirl of colours that are harboured in each one. Even just from the light of this dingy street, they fly up while holding a multitude of different colours inside them. Time seems to slow for a split second, and he doesn't understand why.
His gaze follows the trail to identify it's source. And unsurprisingly, it's you, standing behind him. You blow a couple more out, and then grin at him childishly. He finally looks at your face properly for the first time.
"Birthday bubbles. For the birthday man," you chuckle sheepishly, knowing that you probably look a bit silly right now. You put the bubble wand back into the small bottle of the soapy mixture, and screw it tightly.
"Here, you can have it. Next time you're feeling a bit antsy, why don't you try blowing some yourself? They're pretty, aren't they?"
You also hand him a different small item.
"And i also threw in a little something else, while i was at it."
He looks down, and sees that it's a new lighter. He slowly pulls his hand out of his pocket to take both of them from your hands.
"I hope you get to do something more special next year. Birthdays are supposed to be joyful, after all," you comment.
"Thanks for putting up with my nosiness. Farewell."
And then you leave him after a quick wave.
Sukuna stares wordlessly as you walk off, wondering what to name this ticklish feeling rising in the pit of his stomach.
The small bottle in his palm reminds him of a moment in his childhood. Kids in the park bragging about their bubble wands that were gifted to them. the laughs that resounded as they all ran off to catch the fragile spheres as they blew away in the wind. The tiny feelings of envy in his heart.
The item he tucks away into his pocket is the lighter. And when nobody is watching, he blows a couple more bubbles into the night sky.
-
Every time he passes by that convenience store, the thought of you comes to his mind. A flashback of your smile in the back of his mind. Every so often, he comes to this particular store. Despite having closer options, he comes to this specific one.
At times, sukuna regrets not taking one of the flyers that you were handing out. He wouldn't have had to mope around a convenience store in hopes of running into you again.
Today is a rainy day, and this calls for a hot piping cup of instant ramen. He doesn't usually enjoy convenience store food, but he wants a reason to stay around inside for a bit longer.
He needs to wait five minutes for the noodles to soften. In this time, he stares out the glass frame of the store, and watches the various rows of people walking past with their umbrellas opened.
There appears to be one anomaly in the crowd, however. Running without shelter from the rain, clutching her bag as if it contains something important in there. Sukuna realises that it's you.
Forgetting about his instant ramen, sukuna grabs his umbrella and dashes out the door.
You're mildly panicking about being stuck behind the red light at the zebra crossing without anything to save you from the rain, but the sensation of the droplets hitting your body come to a stop all too suddenly.
You look up, and there's a black umbrella sheltering you, big and strong looking. You spin around and recognise the stranger with pink hair and sharp eyes. Seemingly out of breath.
He signals to the light that has now turned green behind you, and ushers you forward to cross the road before you can say anything to him.
Now safely on the other side of the road, you begin to converse with him.
"It's you! Hello. Thank you for sheltering me. How have you been?"
"... So-so. Nothing's changed since the last time we met."
"I see. You look better than last time, though." You get the feeling that his eyes have a little more light in them.
Sukuna doesn't really get what you mean, but he moves on.
"What’s in your bag that's so important for you to be protecting it like that?" He asks, effectively changing the topic.
"Oh, this? I literally just bought some brand new origami paper... i can't risk getting them wet and unusable. The children would be disappointed."
"Origami, huh? How original."
"Hey! That's not all... there's a lot of options i offer them. They voted on origami this time."
"You got a lot of people signed up?"
"Not really... but I'm sure it'll start picking up soon. Slowly, one at a time."
You smile up at him hopefully.
"...is the offer still open?"
You cock your head to the side slightly, confused. Sukuna grits his teeth, feeling a little bashful about having to ask more specifically.
"You know. Lessons for grown adults."
"Oh! Of course, anytime! Would you like to come sign up today?"
"Do you offer one-on-one sessions too?"
"Yes, I do."
"Alright. Let’s go."
Sukuna can't fathom the words that are coming out of his own mouth. But fuck it, what's the worst that could happen? You've somehow intriged him, and he can't think of a better way to approach you.
You chatter his ears off along the way, and he nods along while his shoulder gets wet from the way he leans his umbrella closer to your side.
#literally idk what this is lmao i suddenly got a vision abd had to type this all up on my phone lmao um#sukuna x reader#jjk x reader#ryomen sukuna#sukuna#jujutsu kaisen x reader#sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n
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Continuation.
Bakugo Katsuki swore that he would die before he let you have Izuku's number.
And yet, somehow, the three of you have ended up together for drinks.
He thinks it's a fair compromise; Izuku can ask his million questions, Bakugo can kill the rumors that the two of you are together, you can-
He's not sure what your goal is, but he can see it shining in your eyes.
Izuku is still in his teaching clothes, a pristine button up rolled up to the elbows and a pressed pair of pants. There's an extra shine and coil to his curly hair, and it smells like sandalwood; he put effort into his appearance and Bakugo knows it isn't for him.
Your words echo in the back of his mind: people always want what they can't have.
"You worked for the commission? As a hero?" Izuku asks you.
You never give direct answers- just these convenient truths delivered with a pretty smile.
"I'm retired."
Lipstick clings to the rim of your drink. It makes your lips looks soft and round, even when you run your tongue across your teeth.
"Retired?" Izuku asks. "Wow, I'm kind of jealous."
"She's my social media manager." Bakugo cuts in. "And a tiktok person."
Not his girlfriend, he wants to add, but he refrains.
"Kacchan says you have a cool quirk." Izuku talks without pause, rambling mostly to himself in that way Katsuku has taught himself to find endearing. His attention never wanes away from you, but you don't blush or squirm. You sit and endure with that damn smile on your face. "What is it called? How does it work? I tried to Google it, but nothing comes up. You are so young to be retired, I just-"
You lean forward and place a hand on Izuku's upper thigh, cutting him off midsentence.
"You have very beautiful eyes," you say, slow, stepping gently over every word. "Wide, wet: like a rabbit's."
Izuku snaps silent. Each one of your nails taps against his thigh, one by one. Bakugo watches how your thumb swipes side to side, how your lips part with your exhale, how your smile creeps up all on its own as you lean even closer-
"You twitch like one too."
"Oh, wow, uh-" Izuku stutters, his whole face flushing a dark pink, so strong it eats his freckles. Finally, someone else understands your goddammit issues. Bakugo swallows down the strange feeling in his chest with the last dregs of his beer.
"I'm going to get a drink, I think." Izuku stands, pulling away from your touch.
"Grab me a beer?" Katsuki shakes his empty can. Izuku nods, then looks at you.
"Soda water with lime."
"No alcohol?"
"I like to keep my wits about me."
The man nods, then practically scurries off to the bar. You huff, content, like a dog that's bought it's master their hunt.
"You scared the fuck outta him."
"He liked it." You pick a piece of lint off of your skirt. "They always do. Watch: he'll come back and sit even closer to me."
Bakugo throws himself back into his seat, arms crossed. "You're so damn cocky."
"Look who's talking, Kacchan." You tilt your head, pouting your lips with fake sincerity. "I can call you that, right? As your girlfriend?"
He sinks even lower in his chair. "You aren't my girlfriend."
"I could be." You mimic him. You lean back and let your knees spread just a bit, just enough that he could see what under if he tried- "The sex would be phenomenal."
That hits him like a shot. It's not that he wants to have sex with you, but he can't deny that the thought crosses his mind every now and again. He thinks about it when he's alone, when the bed feels too big, when he's-
"You don't fucking know that!" He's too angry already, especially compared to your nonplussed response.
"I do.'
"You don't even fucking know me." He points a finger back at you. "And I don't know anything about you."
"It's better if you don't know."
Bakugo sneers. Another nonanswer. He looks back towards Izuku, who's locked in conversation with the bartender. Why would you even bother with him? Someone like you would rip through him like tissue paper. You're right- he is a rabbit, and you're a dog, waiting with your sharp teeth to-
A hand cups his ear. Bakugo watches as you lean in over the table, bringing your lips to his ear.
"I grew up in the commission. One of their little project kids," you whisper. Sometimes, your lips make contact with cartilage and his skin sparks with heat. "I did things for them. Bad things. Illegal things."
"You kill people?" he whispers back.
"You know the answer to that." With every word, you creep closer, until your hands are on his thighs now. "They forced me to retire when Hawks took over. No more need for girls with bloody hands."
It's the truth. Your voice is painfully sincere for once, a strange change from your usual composed self. You're just giving him what he wants, but it's working. It's working. He almost puts his hand around your waist.
If Izuku is a rabbit, he's a fox, and you've lured him out of his fucking burrow. At this point, he'd welcome your teeth in his neck.
"What else should I tell you? My favorite color's red, I love the beach. You're not allowed to pull my hair, I never sleep over after sex," you continue. "I have a scar on my chest. So, you're not surprised when you see it later."
"Stop assuming that I'm going to fuck you."
"Oh, you're going to." You slink back over to your seat. Hands folded over your lap- a snake ready to strike. "I'm going to flirt with Izuku until you break-"
You turn your attention away from him, waving towards the approaching Izuku. "And then you're gonna fuck my brains out, Kacchan."
There's no time to respond before Izuku teeters back, blaming three drinks with a little difficulty. He hands then out, then sits back down-
So close to you that his thigh brushes yours.
"Thank you, little rabbit," you tease, eyes flicking back to Bakugo with a knowing, smug smile.
Fuck, Bakugo thinks. Fuck.
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Holy Shit!
Pairings: G!P Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Prompt: During the ceremony for Y/n and Natasha’s wedding, all of Y/n’s and Natahsa's bridesmaids/men slip Polaroids of Y/n's boudoir shoots throughout the night which leads to a hard time for Natasha.
Warnings: slight mentions of family trauma I guess (not having a dad), SMUT, P in V (Natasha has a penis), rough sex, boudoir pictures, unusually dominant reader (it mentions that nat is usually top), toys, teasing, swearing, praise, orgasm denial, degradation, wife kink sort of?, mommy kink, let me know if I missed anything!
A/N: I hope y'all like this one! I've been thinking about how to approach it for a while now and I think I'm ready. Also, this is going to be my first time using my laptop to write so if it is a little weird, I apologize, I'm still figuring out everything from the switch. I'm sorry for the random pov switch. I was all mixed up, but I'm too lazy to fix it. :)
Sidenote: -Y/f/i = your first initial -Y/n/n = your nickname -Detka= baby - Dorogoy= darling
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Natasha and I just had the most amazing night of our lives, we got married! but the fun is not over yet.
I have devised a plan that has been in the works for a few months. Honestly, I knew I wanted to do this for Nat even before we proposed to each other. Although I only started truly planning it out after we got engaged.
I went to a boudoir photoshoot. Naturally I needed someone to take pictures. I didn't want Nat to be mad that someone else saw my body, so I asked Wanda, my best friend who has seen my literal everything (one time she literally had to pull my tampon out because I broke both my arms and Nat wasn't home to help), and she helped me get the best pictures ever. Then, I moved onto the second phase of my plan, recruiting.
Natasha and I already had our list of bridesmaids/men in place, so I made sure to use all of them. Natasha had four and I had five.
Natasha's bridesmaids/men are Clint as her Man of Honor, and Yelena, Tony, and Steve.
My bridesmaids/men are Wanda as my Maid of Honor, Kate, Bucky, Carol, and Thor (even though he doesn't quite understand "earthling" weddings yet.)
They all thankfully agreed, even Yelena which was surprising, and I picked out the best photos and put them in order. So, my plan was set and now all I need to do is trust our friends to get the pictures to her. Which I don't even have to worry about that, Wanda has the list and all of the pictures, so she is going to hand them to the set brides' person at the set time and they will deliver it secretly to Nat.
She's gonna be so hard by the end of the night, which is technically my plan. Of course, we've had sex before, and we already plan on fucking later, but she definitely is going to fuck hard tonight.
We are getting to our venue for the celebration after the wedding now and Nat and I have been together the whole car ride, which wasn't that long, but we went for a ride together in the limo so that everyone could get there before our grand entrance.
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You step out of the limo carefully and walk hand in hand to the building. Even though you have already seen the inside and all the decorations, you are still blown away by the beauty of it all.
You and Nat have a planned entrance where she walks in first and then you walk in and "fall" into her to the song Fallin' for Ya.
Everyone cheers for you all, and you both stand together to talk to people. You lean over to speak in Nat's ear so she can hear over the noise the second you see Wanda slip the first photo to Thor, who remembers exactly what to do, thankfully. "Nat, I'm going to talk to Wands real quick are you okay to stay here for a sec?"
She nods her head and says back, "Of course detka, don't keep me waiting too long now"
You smile and nod your head and leave to Wanda, but not without giving Nat a soft peck on the cheek. Thank God for Lip stain, you think, or else both yours and Nat's lip color would be all over your faces by now, especially from that limo ride.
You walk up to Wanda and say "oh my gosh, I'm so scared! What if something goes wrong?"
She giggles at your stressed face knowing there is nothing to worry about, and says, "Hey! Deep breath. Don't be scared, Thor has practiced many times, he is going to get it right."
You nod and keep talking beside Wanda as you subtly watch your wife engage with her friends.
Thor finally walks up to Natasha and casually slips her the first polaroid, and you can't wait to see the look on her face. All of the people Nat is talking to are part of the plan so they know what is happening.
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She furrows her eyebrows when she looks at her hand to see that Thor has given her a polaroid upside down so she can't see it. She looks up to ask him what it was, but he was already long gone, so she flips it over not suspecting a thing. She takes one look at the picture and her eyes go wide. She immediately presses the picture to her chest and looks up to find you smiling at her innocently as if she didn't just get handed this.
You send her a soft wave and go back to "talking" with Wanda, and Natasha checks to make sure nobody is behind her and looks again. She smirks at the picture and slides it into the hidden pocket in her dress that was made for a gun in case she needs to protect you, but now it holds something even more valuable to her.
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It has been about fifteen minutes since Nat received her first "gift" and even though she asked about it, you acted stupid and didn't tell her anything saying, "What picture? I didn't take any pictures other than the ones after the ceremony with all our brides' people."
You are now about to cut the cake which is when the next picture is going to be given to her. You decided that every time she gets a pic, the next one is going to be even better than the first. It will really rile her up you think. So as you two walk over there, hand in hand, you walk by Tony who hands her the next polaroid as she passes by him. This time she knows not to look until she is at the cake table where nobody is behind her.
She has an arm around your waist and she sneaks a peak at the next photo.
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This one makes her huff out a breath, and she looks over at you who is "oblivious" to the thing she just saw. She squeezes your side as she slips the photo, once again, into her pocket, and you smile slyly at her. She leans over to whisper, "You know what you're doing Y/n."
You both pick up the knife and you say, "Doing what? Cutting the cake?"
She rolls her eyes at you and you both cut the cake and feed each other a slice. Then you both go back to the table that only you and her sit at, and you add, "Of course I know what I'm doing, why else would I do it?" Then you go back to eating your slice of cake acting just as innocent as before.
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You just had your first dance, and it was beautiful, the song you both picked together was a testament of your love and it brought tears to everyone's eyes.
Then, you decided instead of a father daughter dance, to have a Maid/Man of Honor dance. You danced with Wanda and talked and laughed, while Natasha and Clint did the same.
It was beautiful really. You had decided to do this because, even though Natasha has Alexie, you wouldn't have been able to participate since your dad is no longer in your life. The dance with your best friends meant infinitely more than a dance with your fathers would have anyways, and thankfully Alexie wasn't hurt by this. He realized he wasn't a good "dad" in the beginning of her life, and it wasn't his position.
As the dances concluded, Clint smirked at Natasha, and he reached into his suit pocket to pull something into his hand and slipped another polaroid into her hand.
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People start joining on the dance floor to have some fun and Nat looks down at the photo and says, "Holy Shit!" maybe just a little too loud making her blush. She shakes her head as Clint laughs and walks off to his wife and kids, but not before Nat punches his shoulder softly, and then she glares at you.
You smile cheekily at her as you walk to her for another dance. You start slow dancing together and say, "Hey baby, whatcha doin?"
She smiles softly at you and says, "Thinking about my beautiful wife and what she and I are doing later tonight."
You make a fake surprise face in the shape of a soft 'o' and say, "Is that right?"
She giggles into your neck, and it is the most beautiful sound you could hear and hums, "mhm"
You smile as you spin her around the dance floor and say, "Well thank you for the compliment baby, but whatever you're thinking is going to have to wait. We promised each other we wouldn't leave earlier than we planned, remember?"
She groans and nods her head in slight defeat mumbling, "I know we did."
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You are now both talking to Natasha's family about what is next for you both. Melina starts out with, "So, when am I getting some grandbabies?"
You and Nat both exchange glances and look back at them and you say, "Well... I uh-" You freeze not knowing what to say.
Thankfully though, Natasha is there for you and says, "Y/n has decided she does not want to give birth. I obviously can't give birth given my situation, and I won't be disrespecting my wife's wishes, so we are going to take it slow as we weigh our other options."
You smile softly knowing that you picked the right girl to be your wife. She literally always has your back. Finally, having composed yourself you cut in as well and say, "We also have decided that we want to live our lives together before we settle down. We want to have the right parenting mindset you know."
Melina and Alexie nod their heads and smile Melina replies, "Well I don't care how or when it happens, I just want a grandbaby." As she is speaking, Yelena inches closer to Nat and then she 'holds' her hand briefly, but in reality, she is slipping the next picture into her hand. Nat's smile widens at the thought of another picture and Yelena walks off to go find Peter and bother him.
Natasha feels like she needs to look at this picture, but she can't if her parents are standing right in front of you, so she smiles when a song she knows comes on and says, "Mama, Papa listen, it's your song! Go dance!" She ushers them off and then turns to you to look at the photo.
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This one makes her giggle, so you quirk an eyebrow and say, "What's the problem? Don't like it?"
She widens her eyes a tiny bit and shakes her head so much that you laugh and say, "Alright calm down, you'll mess up your hair"
She smiles and says, "I love it so much, I was just laughing because you could totally be wearing this under your dress since it's white."
All you do is smirk at her and it takes a second for her to process, but she gets it and her mouth falls agape just a bit. You simply walk off and Wanda comes over to say, "Come on! It's time for the flower toss!"
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Both you and Natasha agreed on doing a flower toss, only one is for the guys, and one is for the girls. Your reasoning being that the girls can get a little rough and you wouldn't want any of the boys to get hurt or anything like that. The boys can be very sensitive. ;)
So Natasha does the first toss to the boys, which includes Valkyrie as well since they are feeling more masculine today. (Like a king should). Thankfully nobody got into any fights since they're respectable people. After a bit of laughter, Clint comes out victorious and says he and Laura are simply going to renew their vows. Then he hands Laura the bouquet, and she smiles kissing him softly earning an aww from everyone.
Your toss is next and Loki decided to join in on the girls side since they are feeling more feminine. (Queen shit). The girls didn't get in any fights but they were definitely more aggressive than the boys. Scary, but the one who comes out with the bouquet is surprisingly Carol, who looks over at Val and smirks.
While your toss is happening though, Bucky walks up to an unsuspecting Natasha as she watches the girls' chaos enfold and he gives her a sly smile. By now she has caught onto him and says, "You too?"
He nods his head and says, "You never know which one will be the last." and then he slides the polaroid into her hand like a drug dealer and walks off like nothing happened.
The toss ends right around the same time that her exchange with Buck ends, so you're already making a b-line for her to see her reaction to this photo. She shields herself with your body to look and she swiftly turns the photo.
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She groans as she slips yet another keepsake in her hidden pocket. You smile as she leans her head on your shoulder, which to anyone else would look like she's just cuddling up to you, but you know better. So you lean really close to her ear and whisper, "Are you hard baby?"
She simply nods her head. Thank God she fell in love with a decently poofy dress that doesn't show the contours of her dick. Especially since most people don't know about her little friend down there, not that it's any of their business, but they don't know because she always tucks it for events and missions. However, most of the main Avengers know, having all walked in on you two at least once. So, you walk to your table and sit down so she can have a break. You giggle at her when she's taking a few breaths and say, "What? You act like you haven't seen me naked before."
She glares at you and says, "No, it's not that. It's the fact that my lovely beautiful wife keeps catching me off guard, and might I also add the fact that she is so incredibly hot that I can barely handle myself?"
This makes you blush softly, and she smiles at you. You two share a sweet moment even through the dirty part.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thankfully Nat has had a few minutes for her... stuff to calm down, because Wanda picks up the mic and starts speaking, "I'd like to make some toast please."
You both giggle at the joke she stole from Agnes in Despicable Me 2, one of the movies that brought both you and Wanda childlike comfort during hard nights, while everyone else quiets down for the speeches. Wanda continues, "We are going to start our speeches now, so could Melina and Alexie please come up?"
Both of Natasha's parents stand by you and Melina starts, "I was not in Natasha's life for a very long time, so I don't feel like I am in a position to give a grand speech about yada yada this and that, but I do want to say, from the moment I saw you Natasha, I knew you were good. I knew you would become successful, and I knew you would excel in life. I am so happy that you have found love with Y/n, because you two are the perfect match, and I could not be more honored to be your mother-in-law Y/n."
She passes the mic to Alexie who, up until now, has had a stern face on. "Natasha, Melina already said all of the words I had for you, but she did not speak on this. Y/n, when I first met you I thought that you were never going to marry my daughter. I didn't think you were worthy of such a woman as Natasha, but as you got to know me more, my view on you changed. You kept pushing with her family even when you could have lost hope on us. You proved that you are willing to do anything it takes to get her, and I now see that you are more than worthy of Natasha's love."
He turns into a sobbing mess before he can finish anything else, and their words make you cry, but you try to keep from sobbing since you spent so much on your makeup. Then the speakers continue to go up and give their speech, make you cry, and then move on.
Clint gets the mic eventually and he takes a big breath and then starts, "When I met Natasha, I was on a mission to eliminate her. I was about to take the shot when we made eye contact, and something in me said no. I just could not pull the trigger, because what I was told I was going to be killing was an assassin, a robot, a tool. What I saw that day was anything but those things. I saw a girl who needed out, who was hurting, and that day turned into one of the best days of my life. We hid in vents for so long making sure that she was safe from the people who had her. We did nothing but play tic-tac-toe, rock paper scissors, and plan. We planned on how I was going to tell Fury that I did the exact opposite of what he told me to do. In reality I was actually more scared of Agent Hill, she's very scary, but I digress... All I really need to say is, as an archer, whenever people ask what the best shot I ever took was, I am honored to say it was the one I didn't take."
When Clint hands the mic over, there is not a single dry eye in the whole venue. Clint goes to Nat, and she hugs him so tight you think that he might die from lack of air. When they pull away, she kisses his cheek and whispers something in his ear, while he wipes her tear away and nods his head. He goes back to his seat and Wanda steps up to start her yap session.
"Y/n/n, when we met at the compound, there was something about you that was different than everyone else, you seemed so familiar, and I just could not pin it. We became great friends, but it took me about four months to realize why you seemed so familiar to me. One day when I was hanging out in your room, you opened your jewelry box in front of me and showed me a bracelet. It had little beads on it that said W+(Y/f/i). I burst into tears when it hit me. This girl,"
She points to you before she continues, "Was the girl that saved my life. We were friends from way back when we still lived in Sokovia. We had made these matching bracelets the day that we lost our families. It was also the day I lost her. Or so I thought. We were all hanging out in the living room together when it happened. Y/n felt shaking from the first few bombs and she told me and Piet to hide under the bed while she went to find her parents and make sure they were safe. Then the bombs went off. I thought we lost her. So we mourned both our parents and my best friend that day. It wasn't until I found out it was her all these years later that I knew she was also safe from the bombings but was taken. HYDRA took her from our lives, but the universe brought her back to us, and I could not be more grateful for her. I owe my life to her, and I have made sure she knows how deserving she is of happiness as her best friend, and now it is Natasha's turn, as her wife, to take what I have done and take it a step further."
This time it was you who is bawling; Wanda goes to hug you, and she whispers into your ear, "I'm so, so proud of you." Which only makes you want to cry more, but you pull away and take a labored breath as Wanda cleaned up your face.
All of the main avengers and people in your lives have gone except for Steve, who is finishing up.
Steve hands the mic to Wanda and walks to you and Natasha to "hug" y'all, but in reality he is actually slipping yet another polaroid into Nat's hand.
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She rolls her teary eyes at him and you both, and takes a glance at it before having to look away knowing her erection will just come back.
You smirk at her and say, "Ooh that one was fun, but you'll like the next one even more."
She groans and says, "There's more?"
You giggle softly and say, "Why of course there is more my love."
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Wanda decided to add a little fun into the night and do the who knows them better game. What you do is you sit on a chair and Natasha sits with her back to you and you both have a shoe that represents one or the other, and whoever did the thing first you raise that shoe to see if you know each other.
So, Wanda starts with the first question on the list she made, "Who said 'I love you' first?" Both of you raise your shoe and they all 'aww'
Wanda passes the mic to Tony who asks, "Who is the clingiest."
The crowd is surprised when both of you raise Natasha's shoe. The mic is passed to Yelena who says, "Which of you is the most romantic."
This time, Natasha raises your shoe, and you raise hers, which makes everyone giggle a bit. The game continues to entertain the crowd, and Kate has the last question, "Who loves Halloween more?"
This one is tough since you both love Halloween so much, but you ultimately decide on Natasha, and Natasha puts up both shoes to signify it being a tie.
The game is finished now, and you both tell Kate, that the Halloween one was probably the hardest to choose. Though, you know it is about to be Natasha.
Kate laughs and hugs Nat and pats the next picture into Natasha's chest before walking away casually. Natasha's face heats up at the mere thought of your next image and she secretly takes a look at this one.
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This Picture has her jaw on the floor. She loves the scream movies entirely too much, and the image of you in a sexy cosplay is seemingly never going to leave her mind. She can feel her cock spring back to life, and it almost hurts at how hard she is.
Natasha seems to snap and can't take it anymore, so she grabs your hand and starts taking you to the bathroom without trying to raise too much suspicion which is exactly what you knew would happen, so you look over at Carol and nod your head to begin her mission.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nat pulls you into the hallway and can't even make it to the bathroom before she has her lips on yours. You kiss her back softly but push her away before she can go too far. "Natty baby, what do you think you're doing?"
She tries to kiss you again, but you push her off of you again, "Detka, I don't think I can make it much longer."
You fake pout and say, "But you promised! You pinky promised me we wouldn't leave early."
She stomps her foot throwing a bit of a tantrum and says, "I promised before I knew you were pulling this shit!"
You smirk and say, "Come on baby, only thirty more minutes, you can make it. Just think, if you wait, the reward is going to be so much better, yes?"
She grumbles under her breath and Carol comes in right on queue saying, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything ladies."
Both of you shake your heads and Carol comes by to say, "Y/n, Wanda is looking for you."
You smile at her and thank her before kissing Nat on the cheek and leaving swiftly. Natasha and Carol stay behind and chat a bit. "You knew about this bullshit?"
Carol smirks and says, "What bullshit?"
Natasha groans and then Carol says, "Of course I am in on the bullshit, I hope you like this one." She pats Natasha's shoulder and then says, "Oh, lighten up, at least you have something to look forward to when you leave tonight.
Natasha already has her hand out ready for the next picture of you and Carol carefully puts it into her hand before swiftly exiting the hallway.
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After Natasha sees this one, she thinks she might burst. She can't help but stare right into the eyes of the most beautiful person in all the multiverses. But she also stares at your body as well.
A thought pops into her mind and she thinks, the bathroom is right there and I still have a few minutes...
but ultimately she shakes her head knowing that if you found out she jerked off before your honeymoon, you'd surely not let her cum the rest of the time, so she walks back into the reception.
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Most of the people have left by now, only a few stragglers, the avengers, and close family are left. You both decided to keep the drinking on the low for this night, not wanting any unplanned things to happen.
Both of you are very big on consent, and the fact that you can't consent when under the influence. You also both know that you want to remember tonight in a good way.
You're having a few slow dances with some of your friends and Wanda is the last one before the last dance with you and Natasha. Wanda spins you around one last time as the song closes out, and Nat is waiting for you to be handed over to her.
Wanda smiles at Natasha and goes to hug her, while they are having a sweet moment together, she smirks and says, "I hope you're ready for this one, I had so much fun taking these pictures."
Nat rolls her eyes and lets Wanda slide the last photo into her hand, but not before saying , "So you're the side hoe?"
Wanda giggles and nods her head, "Did you expect any less?"
Natasha sighs and shakes her head, "I'm glad it was you and not some random person."
Wanda smiles and nods her head saying, "She definitely saved the best for last."
Raising her eyebrows suggestively at Nat while she walks off, you walk up to Nat and hold out your hand saying, "You ready for our last dance?"
"Oh, I'm more than ready, just let me see this last one."
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Natasha almost can't tear her eyes away from this one, she is immediately painfully hard, and you have to take the polaroid and put it into her pocket yourself saying, "Natty, people are watching, we have to dance one last song so we can leave."
Nat nods her head and stars slow dancing with you, but you know exactly what to do. You rest your head on her shoulder and make your bodies slightly uneven so that your thigh/hip area is slightly pressing into Natasha's hard on, making her whimper into your ear.
You can't deny it, you're incredibly wet right now, but Natasha has had a much longer night than you, and you're only going to make it seem longer. You lean close to her ear and whisper softly. To everyone left, it looks like you're just saying something cute to her, but you know better. "Baby, when we leave, we are not having sex in the limo. It is our wedding night, and I don't care how hard you are, we are waiting the ten-minute car drive, got it?"
The way you speak is so soft and tender, yet it is firm and leaves no room for complaints. So Nat lets out a soft whine, but she ultimately nods her head and says, "Okay."
You smile and continue to feed words into her mind, "You're so hot, it's hard to not just jerk you off right here baby. I swear when we get home, I'm letting you do whatever you want to me."
Natasha's knees almost give out, but she somehow manages to keep dancing with you, and you both spin each other around. You two have a sweet moment again, temporarily ignoring your hunger for each other, dancing around the floor until the end of the song where you start waving goodbye to everyone and you head off.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The ride to the villa you're both staying at before your flight tomorrow to your honeymoon destination is full of teasing and groping. You start massaging Nat's cock through her dress, and she moans softly and whispers at you with pleading eyes, "Detka, I- I thought you said no sex in the limo?"
You smirk and say, "I said no sex. I didn't say I wouldn't touch you, but I guess if that's what you want."
You take your hand off of her with a knowing smirk. She widens her eyes and huffs at you, "I don't know which is worse, you touching me, or not touching me."
You chuckle at her and shrug your shoulders, "You wanted to play by the rules. I don't make them, but I do listen to you... sometimes."
Nat snorts at your quip and you guys laugh a little, being a cute couple. Then, the limo pulls into the beautiful villa where all your things were previously put for your weeklong honeymoon, and you nod your head at Happy, who in turn, smiles and says, "Have fun! Wear protection!!"
Both of you laughing at him, and Nat starts puling you toward the door. You open the door and go to walk in, but Nat's hand pulling you backward makes you fall into her. "Nat what are you doing?"
She smiles and picks you up bridal style, and carries you carefully inside, closing the door softly before setting you down and she abruptly shoves you against the door, her lips immediately on yours. "You don't know how bad I need you right now dorogoy."
You smile into the kiss letting her have a moment of dominance before you take it back. "Come on dear, let's go upstairs and get these damn dresses off."
You both carefully undress with each other's help, soft touches here and there, before hanging up your dresses knowing you'll be too tired to do so later.
All Natasha can do is stare at your body, the white lingerie making the experience even better. You grab her face to make her give you her attention, and you give her a dominating stare and a contrasting soft toned voice, "Be a good girl and lie down on the bed please baby."
She quickly leaves your hold as you go to the closet and grab the things you set out for her. She usually takes charge, but sometimes you like to have your fun. This special occasion has you feeling dominant.
You saunter over to her with a set of ropes and a new toy she has never seen before. She furrows her eyebrows before you shush her, reminding her not to worry, your tone taking a temporary softness. "Alright dear, you know we have safe words. I know they were originally set up for me, but you know that you can use them too right?"
She softly nods her head at you with excitement coursing through her veins at the thought of what you could do to her.
You smile softly, running your fingers softly along her torso. "Can you remind me what they are, so I know you remember?"
She nods her head and recalls your safe word system. "Red is stop completely, yellow is slow down or need a break, and green is go."
You nod at her softly and say, "Good job dear, now can you tell me a color?"
She smiles softly and says, "Green. So, very green."
You chuckle softly tilting your head back and say, "Okay, I'm gonna tie you up now, is that alright?"
She nods her head with quick, "yes" to follow.
You sit just below her hard cock while tying her arms to the bed, knowing she is staring at how close you are. You lean forward a bit and bump it softly on accident, but ignore it otherwise.
Once you're done tying her arms up you move to her legs and start explaining what you're going to do. "I got a new toy just for you tonight, I know you've already seen it, aren't you excited?"
She nods but softly says, "What is it?"
You finish tying her leg and look up at her with a devious look in your eyes. "You're going to find out soon, but first..." You crawl up to her member sticking up so high, and you smirk with your lips so close to it, "I have to get you ready."
You lean down and softly lick her tip, knowing she likes that, and then you slowly take her whole length in your mouth. Gagging at how far back she reaches, which in turn, makes her twitch in your mouth. You bob your head on her for a bit longer before pulling away. A string of saliva and precum goes from your lips to her tip and she whines. You slap her thigh and harshly say, "Quit your bitching, I've barely started and you're all needy for me."
She goes to defend herself, "But you were teasing me all night.'"
You glare at her and say, "oh yeah? If you want me to stop teasing you, then i suggest you listen and stop whining."
She nods her head almost letting a whimper out, but she composes herself while you reach behind you to grab the new toy you mentioned. "Natty, I got you this, it's gonna make you feel so good."
You hold up a fleshlight and she widens her eyes knowing it will feel good. You start to rub her prepared cock onto the opening and say, "Are you okay with this darling? Do you want me to make you feel good?"
She nods her head but quickly corrects herself with a "yes ma'am" when she sees your eyes.
You slide the fake pussy over her shaft and she tightens her fists as she feels the tightness overwhelm her. Moans start pouring out of her when you start sliding it up and down with a slow pace that picks up quickly.
After only three minutes of silent torture, she feels the knot in her about to explode and she says, "Y/n please, can I cum?"
You look at her with an evil smile knowing this is exactly where you wanted her. "Oh baby, is this making you feel good? You need to cum so fast?"
She nods her head aggressively and you almost groan at how submissive she looks right now. "Oh, does this make you feel so good? Better than me?"
She widens her eyes knowing she is in a trap now. Your hand still moving the toy up and down her dick. "N-no! Y-you."
You cut her off mocking her, "y- y- you what? You want to cum so badly because the toy is making you feel better than your wife ever could?"
Her hips jerk when she hears you say 'wife' and she moans out a no, but you're relentless, slowing down the toy to make the pleasure unbearable, knowing this slow pace won't make her cum.
You lean close her her and say, "If you want to cum so bad then do it, but remember, if you cum now, you won't get to cum in my pretty little pussy for the rest of the week."
Tears prick in her eyes at the thought of going a whole week without being able to feel you around her and she says, "No! Please no! I need you!"
You smirk and say, "Then don't cum until I say you can slut."
You pick up the pace again making her moan and jerk her hips, you know she can only last so long without exploding, but you're testing her limits tonight. She suddenly gets another overwhelming urge to cum again so she is trying to do anything to get you to let her or stop. Words start flowing out of her mouth desperate for either a release or a break, "Please! I need to cum so bad! I'm begging you. Please mommy! I've been so good, I just want to cum!"
You frown and slow down a bit while tucking some of her sweaty hair behind her ear, knowing that Natasha only calls you mommy when she is feeling really submissive, so you check on her a bit, her whining at the pace decreasing, "I know darling, I just need you to honestly give me a color."
She quickly blurts out, "Green! Please mommy!"
You smile at her confirmation, and pick up the pace once again, "Oh baby, mommy is just making you feel so good right now, isn't she?"
Natasha nods her head but lets out a yelp when you slap her thigh, "Wring answer. It's this toy making you feel good. You love the thought of fucking this thing. You're just such a dumb little slut because you want to cum so bad into it. It's like you have your big cock in another girl's pussy. You want that? You want your dick in another girl and not your wife?"
She shakes her head again, words spewing out of her at a thousand words per minute "No mommy! please I need you! I need your pussy so bad! I'm so close!"
You glare at her and pump harder slightly squeezing the fleshy toy when you see some precum leak out the hole in the top so that she feels it tighter. "Then you're going to hold it like a good girl. I know you can make it a little longer baby."
She finally lets tears fall from her eyes at the pain of having to hold back to listen to you, but after a little bit you soften up and decide to swiftly pull the toy off of her, which in turn makes her raise her voice at you crying for stimulation, "No mommy! Please not again! I can't take it! I can't!"
You hush her getting into position slightly hovering over her red-hot dick. "Shh shh honey, I know I know, Mommy's right here baby, she just needs to adjust to you really quickly and then we'll keep going alright?"
You sigh as you take her whole length into your pussy, Nat whines and her hips jerk involuntarily, making you moan softly. You lean down to kiss her softly and then start bouncing up and down making a lewd noise come from Natashas throat. You chuckle and say, "You like that baby? Is it better than the toy? Come on don't be shy now, tell me baby."
She nods her head, trying to find the words in her mushy brain, "Yes mommy," she huffs out with an exasperated breath, "I love you so much detka, you're so much better than the toy, I only want to make you happy."
You pout at the fact that even though she's so terribly desperate for you, she still wants the best for you. You also notice the lack of the word 'mommy' and it instead being replaced with 'detka' indicating that she is slightly more in control and less submissive now.
You continue to bounce and thrust you hips into hers which makes moans rip out of the both of you. You can feel Nat twitching inside of you a clear indicator that she wants to come so quickly, her last orgasm having been torn from her grasp. You tilt her head down from it's thrown back position to have her look at you. The look of pure love and need in her eyes making you swoon. "Hey darling, you're doing so good for me, I'm gonna keep going, okay? You can cum inside me at any time."
She pouts at your tone, and says, "Can you please be rough with me? I liked it."
You smirk at her confession, you became tender when you thought she was done with it, but apparently, she still has some in her. So, you nod your head and whisper seductively, "Okay, if you want rough then you're gonna have to beg me to cum."
Excitement reinstalls in her features as you start to almost jump up and down on her cock, and she groans saying, "i can't hold it much longer, please let me cum!"
You moan when she hits a spot in you, honestly, you're quite impressed with how long she's made it. You're already close which means she made it at least double if not triple the time you thought she would. So you smirk down at her and shake your head. "Not good enough baby, you've got to do better than that
Your words being broken up since you've started moaning so much. She goes to beg again but you untie her quickly and keep talking, "Touch my clit baby, be a good girl and help me out please."
She immediately starts rubbing circles on your clit, ignoring her sore wrists, bringing you to the brink, which makes you clench down on Nat. This sensation makes her stutter, but she persists, determined to make you proud. "Please, I- you- ugh... You feel so good squeezing me; I feel like I'm gonna explode."
You nod your head to let her continue, "You're so fucking tight and warm, nothing could compare to you. Nothing, nobody could make me feel as good as my wife can."
This makes you clench extra hard and a guttural moan slips past your lips which sets Natasha off. She empties her seed into you, and this triggers your orgasm. All you hear is a weak, "I'm coming" fall past her lips and you feel her ejaculate into your pussy.
The feeling of euphoria surrounds the both of you as you both ride out your highs. Eventually you slip off of her, falling beside her trying to catch your breath.
Natasha, however, is so blissed out that you come back to earth and untie her before she can even see or think again. The first thing she says is, "Wow, just wow."
You giggle and cuddle up next to her saying, "You did so good for me baby, I'm so proud of you."
She smiles and turns on her side saying, "Thank you baby."
You smile as she leans in to kiss you. After sharing a soft kiss, she tries to deepen it, and moves to get on top of you, but you softly push her away saying, "You don't have to do another round baby, I pushed a lot of your limits today."
She sits up and glares at you saying, "It's our wedding night, not just mine. So, of course I'm going to take care of you baby. You must be crazy to think otherwise. I'm not just going to let you sleep without coming."
You giggle at her and she quirks a brow at you saying, "What's so funny huh?"
You smile and say, "I guess you were so out of it that you didn't even notice."
She frowns and says, "Notice what?"
You smile giving her a soft peck on the cheek, "Natty, I already did cum. In fact, I came so hard that I even squirted a bit onto you."
You point down at her abdomen which does, in fact, have your essence all over it. This realization making her blush, "Oh... I guess I was really out of it huh?"
You laugh at her timidness and say, "I don't know about you, but I can't walk..."
She smiles and gets up to go clean herself before coming back with a washcloth to clean you as well. Her tender hand making sure to not hurt you or make you uncomfortable from being so sensitive. Then she comes back to cuddle with you on her chest, and you whisper into her ear, "You did really impress me tonight, you know?"
She smiles and sighs, "Really? How so?"
You look into her eyes and say, "You lasted way longer than I expected you to, especially after the whole night of teasing."
She smirks and says, "Maybe I've leveled up since I have a wife now..."
This time it is your turn to blush, and say, "I guess that could be true."
She smiles as she settles into an almost sleep state, "Yeah, definitely true. My wife makes me a better person, in every way. I love you."
You smile and whisper an 'I love you too' back to her only to find that she is already asleep. Before you drift off to dream land you smile softly, thinking about her words.
"My wife."
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A/N: Holy shit indeed. this thing took forever. I actually have no idea how long it is or how many words but I do know that I am done with this finally T-T... College is kicking my butt already, so I'm sorry if I post less. Please tell me what you thought of this! it makes my day to see people liked my work.
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could you do a jun ho fic where the f!reader is a new officer and he's training her. she is fully convinced that he hates her (maybe she isn't the best at her job) but at the end of the week he asks her out and she's so shocked. turns out he was dropping hints the whole time and she's an idiot
A TOUGH CASE TO CRACK || hwang jun-ho
pairing: Hwang Jun-ho x f!reader
summary: No matter what you do, you just cannot get on Jun-ho's good side. Normally you'd brush it off, if he wasn't the man who decides whether you get promoted to detective or not.
word count: 2.7k
warnings: police work, murder case, guns
A/N: i love this request sm omg. everything i know about detective work is from brooklyn 99 so i doubt it's very accurate. if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3
When you found out that the detective training you was none other than Hwang Jun-ho, you were ecstatic. You've worked with him a few times before, doing general beat cop tasks for his cases and seeing him around the precinct.
Not only is he an extremely respected detective, he's also really cute. You hate to be the girl at work who's fawning over one of the boys, but come on. You have eyes.
Now though, as you're sitting in the squad car together staking out a suspect for one of his cases, you're starting to wish you had gotten assigned to anyone else.
You've spent nearly two hours together and you can count the number of words he's said to you on one hand. He's barely even looked at you. It's not like you were friends before, but you've worked together since you got transferred to the precinct a few months ago. And now this man will be the deciding factor in whether you get the detective promotion or go back to being a beat cop.
About a week later, Jun-ho approaches you. "We've been assigned a case. Small, straightforward, perfect for training. Get ready, we're gonna head over to the scene. I'll give you a run down on the way over."
You nod, a smile on your face. It may be small, but it's your first case as a detective and you're excited to prove yourself. This may be your first case, but it will not be your last.
"Cool. Let me grab my stuff, I'll meet you at the car in a few minutes."
Jun-ho gives you a curt nod and turns, walking back to his desk to get his things.
You let out a sigh. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to describe a case as 'cool'.
<>
You grimace at the gruesome sight in front of you. A man's body lays on the ground, blood splattered all around the room. A gun lies in his hand.
"First impression," Jun-ho says, taking out his notepad, "suicide."
You take a step closer, wanting to get a better look at the scene. As you try to take another step, a hand grabs your arm, yanking you back.
"Watch where you're stepping!" Jun-ho's voice booms at you. You look down to notice that you had, in fact, been very close to stepping directly in the victim's blood, which would have messed up the evidence badly.
You look down at your boots, embarrassed that you almost made such a rookie mistake. "Sorry, I'll be more careful." You step closer to the body, but his hand is still keeping you in your place. You huff. "I'm not going to step in the blood, you can let go."
He looks down at his hand and quickly releases your arm, allowing you to approach the scene, this time being extra cautious to make sure you don't disturb anything. You crouch down by the man's head, examining the wound.
Jun-ho gives you a questioning look. "What's wrong?"
You shake your head. "Something just feels off to me."
He continues jotting down notes. "Take a look around the place. I'm gonna talk to the wife. Please be careful not to touch anything. Wear gloves if you have to."
You sigh as he walks away. You had wanted to do this together, to learn how an investigation is done as a detective. He probably thinks you're incompetent now. Looks like you're gonna be working separately.
You take a quick scan over the interior of the room, trying to find little clues that may give you a hint as to what happened here. The house looks normal enough (save for the dead man on the floor, of course). Looking towards the windows, you notice that they are all locked, except for one. It could be nothing, but you write it down in your own notebook anyway, not wanting to overlook anything. You'll be damned if you make another mistake.
Jun-ho walks away from the victim's wife, who is crying outside the home.
"Hey, I might have found something," you jog up to him. "All of the windows are locked except one. Seems a little off to me."
Jun-ho sighs. "I don't think that's something to focus on until we get more evidence." He puts his notepad back in his pocket. "Come on, we gotta go back to the precinct."
You feel yourself deflate at his comment, slowly following him to the car.
<>
You march into your chief's office, hands on your hips. "Chief, I'd like to put in a request for a different trainer."
The man looks up at you from the plate of food on his desk. "Why?"
"Because I know that Detective Hwang is going to give me a bad review," you huff. "If I had done badly, I'd accept it, but I can't help it that he doesn't like me."
He gives you a questioning look. "Why do you say that?"
"I don't think he's said one nice thing to me," you rant. "He doesn't talk to me unless he absolutely has to, he barely even acknowledges that I'm there! The only time he talks to me is to criticize me. He doesn't even work with me on our case!" You stop, catching your breath from you long tirade. "You could have assigned anyone to train me, why did you have to choose him?"
The chief cocks an eyebrow at you. "When he found out you were applying to become a detective, Detective Hwang personally requested to train you."
You look at your chief as if he has three heads. "What?"
He picks up a piece of chicken from his plate, bringing it to his mouth. "He said he saw potential in you, wanted to work with you." He looks up at you again. "He hasn't said anything bad about you or your performance. He's actually said you're doing very well."
Your head feels crazy as you try to process this information. The detective training you, the one that hates you, doesn't actually hate you. He asked to train you and praises you to the chief.
"But why would he do that? He acts like he can't stand me."
The chief shrugs. "You're training to be a detective. Solve the case."
You deadpan at him as a smirk grows on his face. "You're so proud of yourself for that one, aren't you?"
"Absolutely I am. Now, get back to your case." He points at the door with his chopsticks. You can't help but let out a small laugh as you walk back to the bullpen.
<>
The next day, you're sitting at Jun-ho's desk, looking through the files on your victim. A crumb from the sandwich you're eating falls onto one of the photos of the crime scene and you quickly flick it away.
"What are you looking at?"
You jump a bit in your seat. Jun-ho is standing over you, looking at the files in your hands. You put your hand on your chest, steadying your breath.
"Holy shit, you scared the crap out of me."
He gives you a barely there smile. "Sorry." You watch his eyes move to the sandwich in your hand and any trace of the smile he once worse disappears.
You sigh. "I know I'm not supposed to be eating on the job, but I was so hungry that I couldn't focus." You put the remainder of the sandwich on the napkin. "And in my defense, it worked. I think I found something," you say, moving over so he can get a better look. You look up at him. "Do you want your chair?"
"No, it's fine," he says, leaning over you to inspect the files. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, making you stiffen.
"Take a look at this," you point to a description of the victim to Jun-ho. "He was left-handed." You then pick up a picture of the body, handing it to him. "Look where the gun is."
He takes the picture, his eyes widening when he realizes it. "It's in his right hand." He puts the photo down, looking down at you. "You said one of the windows was unlocked, right?"
You nod.
Jun-ho grabs his jacket off the back of the chair you're sitting in. "Go get your jacket. We gotta go back to the house."
<>
You slam the door to the squad car, rushing behind Jun-ho as he moves toward the house. "Which window was unlocked?"
"The middle one on the side."
You run to the side of the house, stopping a few feet away from the window. "This one here."
Jun-ho crouches down. The window is over a small flowerbed, the area covered in mulch that couldn't have been laid down more than a week ago.
You hear Jun-ho gasp. "Here! A footprint!"
You come closer, crouching near him. Sure enough, the print of a large shoe is visible in the mulch, leading away from the window.
"You were right," the man next to you says. "This is a murder."
<>
You stand by the coffee machine, brewing a cup for the woman waiting by Jun-ho's desk. He had reached out to the victim's widow, hoping to get some information that could lead to her husband's killer.
You see Jun-ho leaving the Chief's office and call him over. "Do you want to handle the questions?"
"No, I think we should do it together," he says. "I want your opinion, too."
You try to fight the smile growing on your face, nodding. Jun-ho leads you to his desk, pulling up a chair for you to sit in. You place the cup in front of the woman, as well as a tiny bowl with creamers and sugar.
"Thank you for coming in, ma'am," Jun-ho says.
"Is everything alright?" she asks.
"We just want to ask you a few questions," he says. "We've been going over your husband's case and we have reason to believe that this was a murder staged to look like a suicide."
The woman gasps, bringing a hand up to her mouth as her eyes water. "I knew it," he softly cries, "I knew my Jin-young wouldn't have killed himself. We don't even own a gun, and he was such a happy man."
You shift forward in your seat, grabbing the box of tissues from beside Jun-ho's computer and placing them in front of her. She nods a thank you as she takes one. "Ma'am, is there anyone who you think could have done this? Had anything happened recently?"
She takes a moment to think. "I know he was having arguments with a man he worked with, I don't know his name though."
"Do you know what they argued about?"
"One of them was going to be promoted," she explains. "The promotion would give a significant pay raise. The other man had been there for longer, but Jin-young was likely to get it. He was a very likable man, a very good worker, so nice to everyone. The other man though that he deserved it more."
You write down the details in your notebook. Jun-ho leans forward. "Thank you, ma'am. We'll be in contact."
<>
You walk into the building, looking for the suspect. You had done some research and found that the man you're looking for is Kun Yong-ja, a man with a history of assault.
"Ready?" Jun-ho asks you. You nod, and he knocks on the door of the apartment.
The door opens, revealing your suspect. "Can I help you?"
"Hello, sir. We're with the police. We were hoping we could ask you a few questions," Jun-ho says.
The man's face falters for a moment. "About what?"
You pick up a photo of the victim, turning it to show him. "We're aware that you worked with Mun Jin-young. He was found dead in his home a few days ago."
Yong-ja looks between the two of you before slamming the door shut.
"Shit," you say, taking your gun out of its holster.
Jun-ho kicks in the door, taking his gun out as well. You follow him into the apartment. You run to the back, finding a window open by the fire escape.
"I'll follow him down this way, you go around, try to cut him off," Jun-ho tells you.
You nod, rushing out the door and down the stairs. Leaving the building and turning into the alley beside it, you see the back of Yong-ja, who is currently pointing a gun at your partner. As Jun-ho tries to talk him down, you sneak up behind him. With all your strength, you hit his head with the butt of your gun, knocking him unconscious.
"Thank you," Jun-ho says. He takes the handcuffs off his belt, securing them around Yong-ja's wrists.
As the beat cops bring him to the station, you and Jun-ho check his apartment. Sure enough, you find mulch-covered boots that perfectly fit the prints left in the victim's yard, as well as a small book with information on the victim, including his home address.
<>
"Hey."
You turn, seeing Jun-ho walking up to you. You give him a tight-lipped smile. "Hi."
"The chief asked me to give this to you," he smiles as he hands you a small leather booklet.
You take it and open it, gasping when you see what's inside. The right side is blank, but the left holds a badge, the words "National Police Agency" engraved on it.
"Holy shit," you say, a big smile on your face. "I got it! I'm a detective!" You're so happy that you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him in an unexpected hug. You feel him tense and pull back. "Sorry, I'm just really happy."
"It's fine," he chuckles. "Actually, this is something that I wanted to talk to you about."
Great, here we go. He's going to tell you how you need to be more professional, that you can't make mistakes while in the field.
"Now that I'm not your superior anymore," he smiles, leaning closer to you, "I was wondering if you want to get dinner with me this weekend?"
Wait, what?
You stare at him for a good ten seconds, mind processing the words that just came out of his mouth. You open your mouth and close it a few times before you're finally able to come up with some words. "Like, as in a date?"
"Yeah, a date. If that's alright."
You continue to stare at him, absolutely baffled.
He starts to shrink, his face dropping. "Please don't feel like you have to. It's okay if you don't want to, I won't hold it against you."
"No!" you blurt out. "I mean, yes, I would love to get dinner with you." You smile at him. "Sorry, I just honestly was not expecting that at all."
"Really?" he asks, brows furrowed. "I feel like I've been kind of obvious about it. I mean, I could barely look at you at first because you made me so nervous. One day I finally got the courage to ask you to lunch, but you were already eating and that plan went out the window."
It finally clicks in your brain. Everything you had assumed he'd done because he hated you, not talking to you and giving you looks when you ate at his desk, it was because he liked you.
"But I made mistakes," you say. "I almost stepped in the victim's blood."
Jun-ho chuckles. "My first case, I put filed a knife under the wrong case, would've blown the entire thing if someone hadn't noticed. I got a good yelling at, and now I always make sure I file evidence correctly. I can guarantee you will always be careful around crime scenes, now."
He's right. After that, you had been much more careful. "Damn," you say, "I really got this wrong."
"Yeah, maybe I shouldn't have recommended you for detective," he teases.
You lightly slap his arm. "No take backs!" You gasp. "Wait, is that why you requested to train me?"
Jun-ho blushes, looking to the floor and kicking his shoes. "The Chief told you about that, did he?" He looks up. "And I'm guessing that you asked for a different trainer because you thought I didn't like you?"
"Man, the Chief really can't keep his mouth shut, huh?" you chuckle.
"Not at all," Jun-ho says. "So, I'll pick you up Saturday night?"
You nod, smiling. "It's a date."
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Come Find Me | Bucky Barnes x Reader
I am back back back again! I have missed writing so much, I just don't have nearly the amount of time that I used to. But I'm in my last semester of school! So hopefully I'll be back on a consistent fanfic grind once I'm done :) PS: If you know what the title is referencing, you get a big hug from me.
Word Count: 13,439
Warnings: blood, talk of violence, reader injury
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Bucky checked his texts every few minutes. Initially, he lied to himself about the reason behind it. He told himself he must’ve opened his conversation with you accidentally, or that he mistook an email notification for a text from you. Simple, innocent mistakes.
Either way, he always ended up staring at your side of the conversation, hoping for a gray ellipsis to appear.
But after a while, he could no longer deny the truth- and why would he want to? You were coming home.
You hadn’t been gone long, and your mission was projected to be a cake walk. But he couldn’t help it; he missed you. He missed you when you went on missions, when you visited your parents out of state, when you slept in your room down the hall. Missing you was part of him now, woven into the fabric of his being. It matched the material of his soul perfectly, like he was always meant to feel this way.
He fired off a quick “let me know when you land” message and waited, hoping you’d write back soon.
Usually, you texted him when you were headed back to the compound. It gave him a countdown to your return and something to look forward to. It also signaled to him that you were, in fact, coming home alive. Even if a bit banged up, you were well enough to shoot him a message. And that always eased his worries.
Today, however, was different. No text, no call.
It struck him as bizarre and sounded Bucky’s internal alarms. But he silenced them as best he could. He wasn’t going to let himself get worked up, not when you had a perfectly good reason for not messaging him.
This was your first time leading a mission with a new recruit under your wing. Bucky knew you devoted your full attention to your trainee, giving him absolutely everything you had. You took this position- as well as your pupil’s safety and success- very seriously. He knew you were probably busy helping your recruit learn a swath of new things, and who was he to interrupt?
Bucky opened the log and saw your jet had been marked as ‘incoming’ only minutes ago. A sigh of relief left his chest and eased his muscles. Sure, he would’ve rather heard that information from you, but it didn’t matter. Your jet would be here soon; he had no reason to worry.
The moment he saw that your jet was homeward bound, he lost the ability to think about anything else. He counted the minutes, the seconds. You had to be close, right? The log wouldn’t have said ‘Incoming’ if you were still hours away.
To pass the time, he folded laundry, answered emails, reread a few chapters of The Hobbit- but he couldn’t focus. He thought of you, only you. And no matter how hard he tried to distract himself, he couldn’t hang around his room any longer. He couldn’t stand it. He needed to be there when the jet landed. He needed to meet you on the steps of the aircraft and wrap you in a bear hug.
And there was no real harm in waiting near the hangar, was there? ‘If anything,’ he told himself, ‘It’s actually more convenient for her if I meet her there. That way, I can carry her bag- she’s probably tired.’
Anything to rationalize his desperate need to be near you.
He knew in his heart of hearts that you didn’t need him to carry your bag or help you off the jet. But this lie was all the convincing he needed. Without hesitation, he ditched his room and set off down the hall, your impending homecoming pulling him forward.
It was in that moment he noticed just how far the elevator was from his room. The walk seemed to stretch on and on, the hallway growing longer with each step. And how had he never noticed how slowly the elevator moved? It slid downward at a glacial pace, toying with his patience. For such an expensive, state of the art building, the elevator moved like an ancient piece of turn of the century machinery. Bucky cursed Tony’s engineering.
Everything seemed to add time, multiplying his moments without you. The universe liked toying with him, teasing him. And this was just another cruel joke.
The moment the doors opened, Bucky sprang free out into the hallway. He knocked into Clint and his group of trainees and called an apology over his shoulder without stopping. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t waste time- not when you could arrive at any moment.
His field of view narrowed into tunnel vision, only allowing for visualization of the path toward the hangar. He didn’t greet his fellow team members or allow for distraction. You were his one-track mind. That is, until something stopped him.
“Shit, sorry, man,” your trainee, Jake, laughed as he bumped into Bucky. He took a step to the side and attempted to continue down the hall, but Bucky blocked his path.
“Jake?” Bucky eyed a bloody gash on Jake’s eyebrow, “when did you guys get back?”
Jake gave a casual shrug and checked his phone, “I don’t know, five minutes ago?”
“Oh, okay…” Bucky reached for his phone, but found his screen void of notifications. If you landed five minutes ago with your trainee safe and sound, why didn’t you send him a message? It was out of character for you.
“Well, where’s your partner in crime? Or crime fighting, I guess,” Bucky tried to joke, but his tone was strained. He eyed each person who came around the corner, hoping to find your face. “Did you see which way she went?”
“Nah, she’s not here,” Jake was scrolling through Instagram, only half paying attention.
Bucky’s disappointed sigh left his chest deflated, empty. “Oh, did she say where she was going? Or when she’d be back?”
Jake pulled his focus from his phone and stared at Bucky with confusion on his face. His brows pulled together, his mouth hung slightly ajar. But finally, he made sense of Bucky’s words. “OHHH, okay, my bad- I think there was a miscommunication just now.”
Bucky sighed again- this time, with relief.
“Yeah, no, she’s not here,” Jake continued, “because she didn’t make it back.”
Bucky’s ears started ringing.
The sharp, piercing sound blocked out voices. Footsteps on the tile. Maybe Jake was trying to speak to him, but Bucky heard only the shrill sound of shock. Seconds later, his nerves fell numb. The utter absence of sensation disconnected him from his body. He was lost in a liminal atmosphere with no stability, no purchase. His entire being was shutting down, one sense at a time.
Bucky told himself to focus, to compute what he’d heard. He did his best to make sense of Jake’s words, but to no avail. His mind simply couldn’t understand the phrase “she didn’t make it back”. The words had shed their meaning entirely and sounded foreign to Bucky as they rattled around his skull. Goosebumps rose over the surface of his skin, and a cold sweat created a sheen across his face. He feared he might get sick.
“I- I’m sorry,” he forced himself back into his body, back to the present. “I don’t think I understand.”
“Things got pretty hairy- this was not the easy mission they said it would be,” Jake scoffed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not fair, I definitely got a way harder assignment for my first mission than all the other new agents, and I think it’s-”
Bucky’s glare could’ve sliced Jake in half, “get to the point.”
“Right, um,” Jake continued, “I told her over comms that I was leaving. I gave her plenty of time to meet me at the jet, but she didn’t answer. And she never came outside.” He shrugged, “I had to leave for my own safety.”
“So, you just-” Bucky felt himself losing his grip. “You left her there? Alone?” He didn’t realize he was shouting, didn’t realize he’d drawn attention to himself- until Agent Hill showed up.
She placed a light hand on Bucky’s tense shoulder, but instantly withdrew. He was shaking, practically vibrating under her palm. “Is there a problem here, guys? I don’t want-”
“He left her behind,” was all Bucky could manage.
Maria stared at Jake in disbelief, “you did what?”
A strange mixture of rage and heartbreak seethed behind Bucky’s eyes, “You don’t just abandon your partner-”
Jake’s attitude disgusted Bucky. He was detached, irritated. He rolled his eyes like an insolent child. “Relax, man. Jesus Christ, this isn’t the army. I didn’t promise to ‘leave no man behind’ or whatever-”
Bucky had heard enough. He lifted jake by the collar of his shirt, twisting the material in his metal fist. Jake’s head sent a sickening thud resounding through the space as Bucky forced him against the nearest wall.
“What the fuck?” Jake squirmed in Bucky’s grasp, “There are casualties in the field all the time, why am I being punished for-”
Bucky released Jake at once, sending him crashing to the floor.
His voice was quiet, hollow. “Casualties?” He swallowed hard, “Is she-”
Jake shrugged at he rubbed at the bruise forming on his neck. “I don’t know, I assume so. I didn’t stick around to find out.”
And just like that, Bucky was gone.
He took off down the hall, forcing himself forward as a soul-crushing panic swallowed him whole. No matter how many times he blinked, no matter how fervently he shook his head, he couldn’t rid his mind of the picture Jake painted for him. Each time he shut his eyes he saw you- alone. Your bloodied, broken body laying collapsed against a wall of a Hydra base. Your skin slick with blood. Your skin cold. Void of life.
He moved quickly, but not quick enough. He simply couldn’t outrun the familiar feeling closing in on him. His heavy, well-worn cloak of grief wound its way across his shoulders and twisted itself around his neck. He knew the suffocating sensation all too well. It weighed him down but couldn’t dampen his pace, nothing could; not when your life hung in the balance.
He was too well acquainted with loss by now, too familiar with mourning. There’d been a time when he wondered if he’d ever grieve again. He’d lost his family, his friends, himself- what else was there? What more could he possibly lose? But the moment he met you, he knew he’d one day mourn again. He just didn’t realize that time would come so soon.
A startling cold prickled at his skin, his lungs refused to inflate. How much time did you have left? How long would it take him to get to you? Were you even-
Hill’s voice yanked him out of his spiral, “Barnes, hey-” She made a grab at his shoulder, but her feeble attempt was no match for Bucky’s pace. “Where are you going?”
“To get her back.” Bucky’s tone was firm, resolute. He was going to bring you home or die trying.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Hill nearly tripped over her own feet as she tried to keep up with Bucky’s long strides. “You heard what Jake said, it’s a dangerous location- more dangerous than we thought. I think it might be best to wait it out for a few days, let things calm down and then-”
Bucky turned suddenly, stopping Maria in her tracks. “I’m not just going to leave her there.”
Maria shrunk away from the fierceness in his eyes, “I know you’re upset, but she might not be-”
“I don’t care.” His gruff tone dissolved, making way for the fear he’d so desperately tried to hide. “Whether she’s alive or-” he couldn’t bring himself to voice the alternative.
Bucky knew what it was like to be assumed dead. He knew what it was like to be left in the field.
“She deserves to come home,” he said.
Maria couldn’t argue with him.
“Round up as many members of the med team as you can and have them meet me in the hangar. We’re leaving in ten minutes- sooner if we can.” Bucky turned and resumed his previous path, “I’ll be in the armory.”
Bucky grabbed as much weaponry as his duffel would carry without splitting at the seams and made his way to the hangar. He hoped to find ten, maybe fifteen members of the medical team waiting for him on the jet. He wasn’t sure of your condition, didn’t know how many breaths you had left. He wanted to give you the best possible chance at surviving the onslaught you endured.
But when he turned the corner into the hangar, he found only three scrub-clad bodies.
“Is this it?” Bucky boarded the jet and dropped his bag to the floor. He eyed the scant amount of medical support, their uncertain expressions. His hopes of bringing you home alive dwindled.
A nurse who’d stitched Bucky up more times than he could count gave him a nervous smile. “The med bay is swamped, the team could barely afford to let us come with you.”
Bucky didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want excuses or rationalizations. All he wanted was to bring you home with your heart still beating. And three medical professionals, he decided, was better than none.
The flight to your location only gave Bucky more time to worry. He obsessively checked his weaponry, hovered over the med team’s supplies. But no amount of double and triple checking could save him from the spiral. He traveled down the path of every possible “what if?”, leading him only to heartache. No matter where he searched, he couldn’t find a positive outcome. And though he didn’t want to acknowledge the odds, he knew yours were slim- impossible, even.
And as the jet grew closer to your location, Bucky steeled himself for what he knew he’d find: you, his best friend, his reason for living, his everything- dead. Cold. Lifeless. None of the horrors he faced in the past could compare; no pain could ever be greater. Bucky knew he’d hurt for the rest of his life.
The clouds parted as the jet began its descent. Slowly, a large stone building appeared out of the fog like a monster in the horror movies you loved so much. It stood in an otherwise empty clearing, its shadow looming over the dying grass. Smoke billowed from holes in the roof, the walls. Whatever happened here was catastrophic. Disastrous.
Bucky’s heart sat lodged in his throat as he imagined you trapped in there. Goosebumps rose over the surface of his skin as he stared at the looming structure. He had to get you out, even if he died trying.
Just before the jet touched down, an idea popped into Bucky’s head. It scaled the high walls he’d tried to erect to protect himself from thoughts of your demise and grabbed him by the throat. It was smart- brilliant, actually. He was shocked he could even think straight given the circumstances.
“FRIDAY,” Bucky called out, “is comm 1209 working?” He shoved his own comm in his ear and waited for a response.
“Comm 1209 is on and in range,” Friday said. “Would you like me to connect you?”
He couldn’t say yes fast enough.
A few staticky clicks and pops vibrated against Bucky’s eardrum as his comm connected to yours. But he was too scared to speak. What if you didn’t answer? What if he heard you take your dying breaths? Just the thought was enough to make him sick.
He owed it to you, though, to at least try. He’d always said he’d do anything for you, that he’d risk it all for you- and he meant it every time. If reaching out to you over comms exposed him to something horrible, something traumatic and unforgettable, at least he tried. At least he attempted to keep his promise. And after everything he’d been through, what was one more life-shattering, soul-crushing nightmare?
“H- um…” Bucky swallowed the large lump obstructing his throat. “Hello?” He waited a moment, holding his breath the entire time, and tried again. “Hello?”
He waited.
No response.
“Doll? It’s me. It’s Bucky…”
The dead silence on the other end of the line dragged on. It seemed like his words disappeared into the air, unacknowledged. Unheard. Maybe the sound of his voice was reverberating inside your ear as you lay dying. Or maybe he was talking to your corpse.
The thought made him nauseous.
“Please, sweetheart. If you’re there- if you’re able- just say one word. Say anything,” he pled. A long bout of silence followed.
He clenched and released his metal fist again and again, desperate to rid himself of the panic settling into his bones. He was stupid to think you survived, stupid to let himself be optimistic. He made it here as quickly as he could, but he couldn’t save you. He was too late.
He wanted to take one of his many weapons and turn it on himself.
But a small sound stopped him.
“Buck…”
He almost fell to his knees. At the sound of your voice, an overwhelming warmth banished the cold that infiltrated his bones. Against all odds, you were alive.
A deep sigh of relief seeped from Bucky’s lungs, “Sweetheart…”
A hurricane of emotion rattled against the storm doors inside Bucky’s mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about the ‘almosts’. How he almost lost you, how you almost died alone in a Hydra base. But he couldn’t allow it to swallow him- not yet. There was no time for a breakdown. He needed to move, he needed to get to you.
He shrugged off the grief that rested heavy on his shoulders and swallowed the impending sob that vibrated inside his throat. “I’m here- I’m gonna come get you. Just tell me where-”
A staunch refusal came from your end of the comm, “No- no…” You took a sharp, rattling breath, “no way.”
Bucky didn’t like the way you had to fight to get your words out. You were clearly struggling, doing everything in your power to stay on this side of consciousness. He wondered how much time you had left.
But still, there was a familiar strength to your voice. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the renewed hope of rescue; something was keeping you alive.
“It’s okay, sweetheart, just tell me where you are. The jet just landed. I’m gonna get you out and-”
“I said- I said no,” you breathed. “You can’t c-come in here, it’s too dangerous… we were a-ambushed.”
Even in your condition, even when Bucky was your only hope of rescue, his safety was your first thought. You’d rather die alone than put Bucky’s life at risk; the thought made his cheeks pink and filled his chest with a fuzzy warmth. But he didn’t have time to enjoy the feeling.
“If you don’t tell me where you are, I’ll just sweep the whole building,” Bucky said, using your worry against you. “That means more opportunities for me to run into Hydra operatives. More time inside the base- it’ll be way more dangerous.” He could practically see you rolling your eyes, “so it’s probably better if you just give me a direct route, don’t you think?”
Bucky smiled to himself as he envisioned you on the other end. He was certain you were arguing with yourself, cursing his rationale.
He waited for you to come at him with a sharp retort or a sarcastic quip but heard nothing. The silence on your end of the line dragged on. And on. It lasted far too long for Bucky’s comfort. Surely, you couldn’t still be thinking about his proposition? He’d given you more than enough time to make up your mind, more than enough time to come up with a response. It was time you didn’t have.
What if you’d fallen unconscious? What if, in those quiet moments, your soul vacated this earth?
Bucky couldn’t take it anymore. He disembarked the jet, resolving to search every inch of the base. But just as he reached the dark, unsettling building, you spoke.
“F-fifteenth floor. Northeast… northeast quadrant,” you sighed, defeated. “There’s a- a room at the end of this hall, I think it’s maybe an office?” Again, you took a long pause. The energy required to think, to speak, was energy you didn’t have. “Just f-follow the trail of blood.”
Bucky’s breath caught in his throat. He shuddered at the thought of your blood leaving a path down the stark white, sterile hallways of the base. But he didn’t have time to focus on anything other than getting you out; this was a rescue. He owed it to you to keep his head level. To focus on getting you out as quickly as he could.
“The power is… it’s out”, you said. “You’re gonna h-have to take-”
Bucky wanted to save you from wasting any extra energy, “The stairs. Got it.”
And while he normally didn’t mind getting a few extra steps in, he knew the time required to climb fifteen flights of stairs would push the limits of your survival.
But he pushed the ever-encroaching sense of doom to the side and put on a brave face for you. For himself. “Okay, I’m coming to get you,” he promised. “Stay awake, and don’t move.”
“As if I h-have a choice,” you laughed a breathy, hollow laugh. A long groan followed.
Your pain radiated through Bucky’s chest. He didn’t want to climb stairs or scour hallways- he just wanted to be there. To instantly materialize at your side. To bring you instantaneous comfort. He lamented the super soldier serum’s lack of teleportation abilities.
“You know what I mean, doll. Just stay awake, okay?” Bucky drew his gun and stepped inside the building. “Don’t fall asleep. Do anything you have to do- just stay awake. Can you keep talking until I get there?”
“W-what am I…” You let out a raspy exhale, “supposed to talk about?”
Bucky cleared a long hallway and found the stairwell, “Anything, just keep talking.”
Another extended silence filled the air; it nearly drove Bucky crazy. Your silences held limitless possibilities, horrifying ‘what ifs’.
“It w-wasn’t supposed to be… to be like this,” you finally said. “It wasn’t supposed to be this dangerous. This was Jake’s first mission- it wasn’t f-fair to him.” Heartache coated your every word. Even after your partner abandoned you, even after Jake forced you to suffer and bleed all alone- you still sympathized with him. Still felt sorry for him.
Bucky felt no such thing.
“I know, doll. Keep talking, okay?”
You sighed. “We s-split up for recon… that’s when they- when they came at me.” Your next few breaths were so shallow, your lungs barely inflated; the lack of oxygen left you dizzy. A thin veil of glittering spots sparkled and danced on the edges of your periphery. “It all h-happened so fast… there were so many of them. I just- I remember pain. And I hoped Jake was okay, w-wherever he was.”
Your heart was too good for this job. For people like Jake. Bucky admired your kindness, your empathy, your selfless nature. Even in the face of pain, of death- you thought about others. You often told Bucky how unfair life had been to him, lamenting his treatment at the hands of fate. Bucky found himself doing the same for you and your kind heart.
“I called out for h-him, I needed backup… I kept asking him to come help me-” A sharp cough rattled out of your throat.
Bucky cringed at the sound. It was the only sound in the building. He hadn’t heard anyone else. Hadn’t seen one Hydra operative- at least, not a live one. He came across their bodies every now and again but didn’t see a single living soul. He was sure they deserted after the explosion. Just like Jake.
The destruction, however, was everywhere. Bullet casings littered the floor. Blood stained the tile floors. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead. He had to get you out of here.
“But he n-never answered. And then he told me he was leaving. He said he was- he was outside already. He gave me n-ninety seconds to meet him at the jet…” Your words were tinged with devastation, with hopelessness, with betrayal. “I tried- I did my best to make it down the stairs. But I was- I was dizzy… I was b-bleeding.” The memory stung like your fresh wounds. “I kept slipping on- on my own blood. I just c-couldn’t move fast enough. It hurt too much.”
Wrath burned inside Bucky like a raging forest fire. But his utter heartbreak doused it completely, extinguishing the rageful flames. He found himself unable to think, to breathe. It took everything in him to keep moving forward. Who could ever leave you behind like that? Who could ignore your suffering and sentence you to death without a second thought? The image of you stumbling, struggling to run for your life gutted him.
“And then- and then I heard the jet t-take off,” you sighed. “And I listened as it got farther and farther away… until it was g-gone. And I was- I was alone.”
He thought of you sitting alone in cold silence as the noise from the jet quieted. As your hope dwindled. The entire base must’ve felt like a tomb, like a massive, lonely grave meant just for you.
Bucky almost fell to his knees. Sobs throttled the inside of his chest, begging for release. Tears burned inside his lash line. Jake didn’t just leave you behind, he marooned you without care. And in his departure, he sealed your fate.
“I d-didn’t have a way to call for… for help. My phone was on the j-jet with jake.”
The sorrow that stained your words was all too familiar to Bucky. It was the same hopelessness that accompanied him every day that he was at Hydra. When he laid in the snow for hours upon hours after falling from the train. He never wished that kind of despondency, that kind of misery on anyone. And knowing that you, the person who deserved it the least, experienced it for even a moment shattered him.
“I realized I… I didn’t h-have any options,” you breathed.
A collapsed column blocked Bucky’s path as he tried to make his way from the sixth floor to the seventh. The concrete was too high, too precarious to scale. If he tried to climb it and got hurt, it would only serve to diminish your chances of survival. And he wasn’t willing to risk that. With a huff, Bucky exited the northwest stairwell in search of another route. This was a waste of time- time you didn’t have.
He painstakingly checked every hall until he finally found another stairwell. His breathing came a little easier as he rocketed his way up the stairs, growing ever closer to you.
“So, I found this- this room. It’s quiet. It’s out of the w-way. I needed somewhere to hide. S-somewhere to…” A small crack of emotion cut through your voice, “somewhere to die.”
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Jake got to return home safe and sound while you struggled to stay alive. It wasn’t fair that you had to seek out your own deathbed. Bucky wanted to scream, to break things, to spill every last drop of Jake’s blood. But he was a soldier, and this was a rescue mission.
“This seemed like as g-good a place as any,” you choked on a weak laugh. “Beats dying in the middle of a h-hallway, I guess.”
Bucky’s automatic response was to swear that you’d make it out. To promise that you weren’t going to die. But he bit his tongue. He couldn’t make those kinds of assurances. He’d do anything to bring you comfort but swearing that you’d return home alive seemed almost cruel.
He pushed himself to move faster. He couldn’t let you die alone, especially not in this godforsaken place. As he sprinted up the last flight of stairs and ripped open the door to the fifteenth floor, he struggled to orient himself. You were in the northeast quadrant, but where was he? He searched for anything to indicate his location- but found no signage. No directory.
Everything inside of him rattled with dread, with anxiety. Any moment now, you were going to die. You were going to take your last breath. All alone. A thick, suffocating wave of panic crashed over Bucky as he realized- you were going to die disappointed. You were going to leave this world knowing that he hadn’t gotten to you in time.
It was then that he noticed a faded arrow painted on the wall, with “NEQ” painted below it in block letters. Northeast quadrant. He was closer than he thought.
“I’m gonna be there in just a second, doll,” he said as he followed the arrows. “I think I’m right around the corner.”
This was just his way of making you feel better, you were sure of it. The hallways were long and winding. Each floor was a maze of its own. Even with your vague instructions, it could take him a while to find you. Still, Bucky’s words brought you comfort in the way that only he could.
“I know, I t-trust…” A metallic taste filled your mouth. A warm ooze trickled down your chin and dripped onto your chest. The warm, fuzzy feeling brought on by Bucky’s assurances faded. Of course, you knew you were in bad shape. But as blood leaked from your mouth, you wondered if these were your last moments.
Instantly, you searched for the words to say goodbye to Bucky. Time was slipping through your fingers, life draining from your body with each passing second. But before you drifted off into a never-ending sleep, you had to tell Bucky what he meant to you. You’d use all your strength, your last few breaths- whatever it took. He just had to know.
But how does one say goodbye to a soulmate? You didn’t have the energy or capacity to make a grandiose speech. And the blood filling your mouth impeded your ability to speak. You wanted to tell bucky everything- how he comforted you, cared for you, made your life worth living. How your life revolved around him as though he were your personal sun. But nothing quite encapsulated the things you felt for him. Every word in the English language, every sonnet fell short. And the lack of oxygen getting to your brain sabotaged your phrasing.
“Buck, I think it’s… I think it’s almost t-time,” you rasped.
But just as you opened your blood-stained mouth to proclaim every feeling you ever had for him, the door flew open. Alarm coursed through your veins at the threat. Surely, a Hydra agent had stumbled upon your hiding place and was here to finish you off. The severe blood loss was no match for your training, thought. And, on instinct, you pulled your gun on the tall, dark silhouette standing in the doorway.
“Woah, hey!” Bucky raised his hands in surrender. “It’s me, it’s just me.”
At the sound of his voice, your arm fell limp. Your gun clattered to the floor. Your head lolled back against the wall. It had taken everything in you to try and protect yourself one last time. And now that your energy reserves were nearly depleted, you allowed your eyes to close.
“S-sorry…” A barely-there smile pulled at your lips. “My… my bad, Buck.”
“No, don’t be sorry, doll.”
Bucky knelt in front of you, taking in your broken, bloodied body. He’d seen carnage before, witnessed more death than anyone should. But this, you- it was different. It hurt in places he didn’t know he had. But he didn’t let it show. Knowing you, you’d spend your last few moments comforting him, trying to make him feel better. And so, he forced a warm smile and tabled his breakdown for the moment.
“I’m actually impressed. I mean, you might be hurt, but you were ready to take me out just now,” he forced a chuckle. “That’s my girl.” His cool metallic hand brushed against your blood-stained cheek.
And in that moment, something within you changed. Your eyes shot open. You blinked a few times before forcing your eyes shut once again. You gave your head a few good shakes. Surely, this wasn’t real- it couldn’t be.
You opened your eyes wide once again, taking him in. “Bucky?”
With one shaking hand, you reached for him in the most pathetic attempt he’d ever seen. You were weak, dangerously so; it scared him to his core. But you were alive.
He leaned in, meeting you in the middle, and let you stroke at his stubble for a moment.
“Yeah, I’m here,” he kissed your palm. “I’m so happy to see you.”
“You’re…” you other hand reached for him, but made it only a centimeter or two before falling into your lap. Bucky opted to take it in his. “You’re here?”
He nodded, “I could never leave you behind, sweetheart.”
He may have continued speaking after that, but you didn’t quite hear him. The emotion you’d tried so hard to swallow came bursting forward, crushing your every attempt at remaining levelheaded. Your fingers smoothed over Bucky’s cheek again and again. His name fell from your lips in what resembled a prayer. Tears rolled down your cheeks and mixed with the blood crusting over your skin.
A soft, warm wave of peace rolled in, covering you like a well-loved quilt. The pain disappeared; the sorrow evaporated. All that remained was Bucky. This was the warm spring that followed a dark, bitter winter. The first rays of sun after a vicious storm. The first taste of home after a long time away. You let the familiar warmth of Bucky’s presence drown out the rest of the world until only you two remained.
“Sweetheart, did you hear me?” With a gentle squeeze of your hand, Bucky called you back to the present. “I need to look at your wound, okay?”
A sharp rush of pain nearly blinded you as you lifted your shirt, exposing the bloody mess. But even as Bucky appraised the gunshot wound that turned your abdomen into horror scene, you couldn’t find it in you to worry. Your hands lazily found his shoulder, his chest, his face; you just wanted to touch him. To know, without a doubt, that he was there. That he was real.
“Hey, we… we need to t-talk,” you whispered as Bucky did his best to quickly bandage your wound for transport. “I n-need to talk- to talk to you…”
Bucky nodded, “sure thing, doll. Absolutely. We can talk about whatever you want. But right now…” he returned your shirt to its rightful position and met your gaze. “Right now, I need to get you out to the jet, okay? We can talk later.”
He guided your arms around his neck, lifted you into his arms, and moved as fast as he could through the winding hallways. His quick gait set your nerves alight with pain. Every bump, every jostle had you gasping for breath. And though it was a necessary evil, the guilt still sat in Bucky’s stomach like a rock. His repeated ‘I’m sorrys’ were nearly constant, doubling with your every grimace and groan. But he couldn’t slow down, couldn’t let the time slip away; you didn’t have much left.
Between pained sounds and twisted expressions of discomfort, you said the same thing on a loop. Again and again and again, you pled with him, using energy you didn’t have.
“We need to… to t-talk.”
“I h-have to tell you.”
“Can I talk to y-you about- about something?”
And though Bucky would’ve loved nothing more than to have a long heart to heart with you as you two often did, you weren’t strong enough. He couldn’t let you waste your finite energy on a conversation with him. And so, he responded to each of your requests with an ask of his own, begging you to save your strength. He promised that the two of you could talk tomorrow, that there was plenty of time for a conversation later.
But ‘plenty of time’ almost seemed like an empty promise. And ‘tomorrow’ felt like a lie. Would you have a ‘later’? He didn’t know. But he didn’t want you wasting your oxygen, not when he feared it might be your last breath.
Boarding the jet with you alive in his arms almost felt like a win to Bucky. Almost. Sure, he’d gotten you out with your heart still beating, but your condition worsened by the second. And the grave looks the med team wore as Bucky gently rested you on the treatment table dug a deep pit in his stomach.
They sprang into action, placing IVs and delivering medications. Scissors glided through your shirt and exposed your broken body to the med team. Bucky knew they’d seen their share of gnarly injuries over the years, but he swore that they recoiled at the sight of your wounds.
With a shake of his head, Bucky refocused. He had to get you out of there- to get you home. He headed for the controls and planned to set the jet in motion. But he made it only a step toward the cockpit before a hand caught his.
“S-stay…” you whispered. “Please.”
His heart shattered. “I’m not leaving you, doll, I promise. I just have to get us in the air, okay?” With great care, he placed a kiss to your hand and set it at your side. “I’ll be back in just a minute.”
Bucky’s body operated on muscle memory alone as he initiated take off. His mind was occupied, completely and totally, by the sound of your weak voice begging him not to leave. The sound played on a loop inside his brain, cutting him deeper each time. You’d already been abandoned once today; he was certain you feared it would happen again.
With a deep breath and a quick reset, Bucky did what he had to do. He needed to be on his A-game for you, needed to be his very best. Only a few hours ago, you’d trusted someone with your life, and they failed you. Bucky wasn’t about to do the same. He worked carefully to chart the fastest route back to the compound, opting to forego FRIDAY’s proposed path. It kept him from your side longer than he would’ve liked, but less time in the air seemed like the best option. The sooner he could get you to the med bay, with its massive, brilliant medical staff and unlimited resources, the better.
Just as he finalized the flight plan and asked FRIDAY to notify the med bay of your impending arrival, an unsettling sound pulled his focus. It was an ominous beeping, alarming your care team of a sudden, life-threatening change.
Gloved hands moved at lightning speed; voices yelled medical jargon back and forth. And you laid there on the table. No heartbeat. No respirations. Deathly still.
Bucky stood on the periphery, too horrified to get any closer.
He thought it best, of course, to stay out the med team’s way. But knew deep down it was an excuse. He was simply too terrified to lose you. If he got closer, if he saw you struggling to stay alive, all of this would suddenly become real. And he couldn’t handle that.
“Barnes!” A nurse screamed at him, “did you hear me?”
Bucky forced himself back to the present. “No… I, um-”
“She has no pulse- get over here, we need you to do compressions!”
Bucky’s desperate need to help you, to save you, overpowered his fear. And in an instant, he was at your side. He loomed over you, his hands locked together, preparing to help resuscitate you. But once again, his fear reared its ugly head. You were already so badly injured, so weak. And he was far too strong. What if he made your condition worse? What if he-
“Come on!” The nurse yelled at him, “start compressions- now!”
He did as he was told. He pressed into your body with a measured pressure, careful not to crush your chest. But his cautious compressions didn’t cut it. The nurses instructed him to push harder. To “actually compress” your chest- and Bucky followed instructions.
But as he did so, a sickly snapping sound exploded from your body. Bucky recoiled instantly; his face contorted in horror.
“What are you doing? Keep going!”
“I can’t- I think I broke her ribs,” Bucky shouted at the doctor. “What do I do?”
“Keep going!” The nurse yelled, “It happens- just keep going.”
Bucky broke out into a cold sweat. His stomach turned at the thought of hurting you, of causing you even more pain; you’d been through enough as it was. But he did as he was told. With each round of compressions, he swore he created new fractures. He felt every splinter, every crack as he put pressure on your chest.
He wanted to sever every last nerve-ending in his hand; anything to rid him of the sickening sensation creeping through his palm. But if doing this saved you, it was worth the nightmares.
He watched as the two nurses provided your supplemental breaths and tended to your endlessly bleeding wound. The doctor called ‘clear’ every so often, shocking you with a defibrillator in an attempt to restore your heartbeat.
Round after round of compressions, breathing, and shocks passed by without signs of improvement. You remained lifeless, unresponsive. A syringe of epinephrine delivered straight to your chest did nothing. And Bucky felt what little hope he had slipping through the cracks in your ribs. He couldn’t believe he was about to lose you; couldn’t believe he’d have to watch you die. Hot tears blurred his vision and streaked down his cheeks. His legs went numb. At any second, he knew his knees would give out, knew he’d crumble to the floor under the crushing weight of grief.
The doctor deemed the next shock your last, and Bucky almost doubled over.
“Come on, doll, just-” He swallowed a sob, “just stay. Stay. Do it for me, I’m begging you. Please?”
The doctor called one last “clear” and delivered your final shock, only to be met with the rhythmic beeping of your heart monitor.
“Sinus rhythm restored,” announced the nurse to Bucky’s left. She appraised the waves on your EKG and gave a nod. “She’s stable.”
After what felt like an eternity, Bucky took a breath. He stretched his tense fingers and did his best to relax the rock-hard knots forming in his shoulders. A new crop of hope bloomed cautiously inside his chest, but he couldn’t allow it to blossom and flourish just yet. You weren’t out of the woods; there was a very real possibility that your heart might stop again. And he wasn’t sure how many times the doctor could revive you before throwing in the towel.
Less than a minute after Bucky’s cautious optimism sprouted anew, a soul crushing sight dashed it completely. A sharp gasp filled his lungs, a shudder rocked his frame. Shades of deep, dark blue bloomed under the skin of your chest. Black and purple splotches stained your sternum. Some spots were already starting to swell. He extended a hand in your direction but recoiled in an instant, fearing he’d hurt you yet again.
“Happens all the time,” one of the nurses said with a shrug. “Believe me, broken ribs are the least of her worries.”
Somehow, her words didn’t make him feel any better. He ached to hold your hand, to sweep a gentle caress across your cheek. But he didn’t dare touch you after what he did. Every glimpse of your bruised, swollen chest sent bile rushing into his throat.
The three dedicated members of the med team worked tirelessly for the rest of the flight. They did everything in their power to keep your condition steady, to maintain the life they worked so hard to save. It brought Bucky comfort to see them staying so close, ready to jump into action if need be.
Bucky, like the med team, hovered. He couldn’t bring himself to leave your side. You seemed too fragile, your condition too tenuous. He counted your every breath, took stock of every beat of your heart on the monitor. Stepping away for even a second felt wrong. He needed to be there if you crashed again, if the doctor needed extra hands. He needed to be there to help.
And if you woke up, he wanted to be the first face you saw.
But you didn’t wake. A groan here, a muscle twitch there- that was all you could spare. And though Bucky wanted nothing more than to see you open your eyes, he thanked the universe for keeping you unconscious. He knew tsunamis of pain rippled in the wings, waiting to overtake you the second you woke.
Bucky held his breath as the jet landed. Every jarring bump, every vibration, forced his heart into his throat. He feared that even the slightest impact would send you into cardiac arrest. He flicked his eyes from the rising and falling of your chest to the rhythmic flashing of your heart monitor and back again. Nothing changed, no alarms sounded. And when the jet finally stilled, Bucky breathed a deep sigh of relief. He just needed to get you to the med bay for treatment, and this whole nightmare would be over.
He didn’t like being optimistic. It felt like a set-up, like false hope. If he told himself you’d survive and you didn’t, the fall would be that much harder, that much more devastating.
But being realistic wasn’t any better. Telling himself that you were too far gone, that you weren’t going to make it, felt wrong. To him, it seemed like he was cursing you. Like willing your death into existence. Like begging the universe to end your life.
And so, he opted for a neutral mantra. “She’s home,” he told himself. “She’s home. She’s home. She’s home.”
The distance to the medbay felt longer than usual. The hallways seemed to stretch on forever, the double doors to the triage center seemed to grow farther and farther away. Bucky followed your gurney closely, only allowing a few inches of space between the two of you. He couldn’t be separated from you again. He wouldn’t. He needed to be with you every second, watching over you.
A dark cloud of impending doom loomed over his psyche. It whispered to him, telling him that if he left your side, if he let you out of his sight, you’d die. You’d be gone forever. And it would be his fault. He knew it was nonsense, that this was just his anxiety operating on overdrive. But he couldn’t shake the fear. And risking it wasn’t an option.
“No visitors past this point,” a security guard placed an arm in front of Bucky as he tried to enter the triage unit.
Bucky tried to go around the man, watching as the medical staff carried you farther out of reach. “I’m not a visitor, I’m an agent-”
“No agents past this point, then,” the guard rolled his eyes. “Only patients and medical staff. You can have a seat over there.”
A small table sat against the wall, flanked by two chairs. It was a sad, makeshift excuse for a waiting room that operated as a device to keep people from hanging around. But bucky couldn’t be discouraged. He took a seat in one of the chairs, determined to wait there as long as he had to. He knew he’d missed a number of important phone calls by now, and probably several meetings. But he didn’t care; all that mattered was you.
Dread circled Bucky like a buzzard as he waited. It was taking too long- why was it taking so long? How much time did the medical staff need? You were stable when the jet landed, the nurse said so. Why were there no updates? All Bucky needed was a nod, a bit of information. But he remained in the dark, wondering if you died on the operating table.
Maria found Bucky slumped in a chair with a zombie-like air about him. He was expressionless, his gaze hollow. His palms traced the same track up and down his thighs in a never-ending cycle. One look and she knew: something was very wrong.
“Hey,” she called softly, hoping not to startle him.
But Bucky didn’t respond- he didn’t even react. He just sat there, his unblinking stare burning a hole in the tile. An uneasiness enveloped Maria. She’d never seen Bucky so empty, so despondent. As she stared at him, she found herself fearing the worst. ‘Maybe he just received terrible news’ she thought. ‘Maybe he’s grieving’.
“Hey,” she tried again, nudging her foot against his.
He came back to life with a start. A sharp inhale filled his chest, his eyes blinked wildly. But his palms never stopped moving in their endless cycle against his tactical pants. And he never actually looked at her.
“Hi…” he breathed.
Hill took the seat opposite him. She conjured the gentlest, warmest tone she could find, “is everything okay?”
Bucky balled his hands into tight fists and stretched them out again. Maria noticed blood- your blood- crusting under his fingernails and staining his skin. But before she could get a good look, he grabbed the arms of the chair. His palms rubbed fervently against the plastic handles for a moment until they moved to his face. He ran his hands along his jaw, his spiky stubble poking into his skin.
“Barnes, what happened? Are you-”
Finally, his head snapped in her direction, “I can still feel it…”
“Feel what?”
Bucky’s head fell into his hands. He pressed his palms against his eyes and dragged them down his face. Maria watched him fall apart in slow motion. He seemed to be unraveling, one cell at a time. And when he finally spoke, shame made his words almost unintelligible.
“She crashed on the jet…”
“Oh...” Maria did her best to keep a calm, even tone. Her concern for you vibrated in her chest, but she didn’t dare let it free- not when Bucky was moments away from a meltdown. “Is she-”
“The med team needed help. There weren’t enough of them- they needed me to do chest compressions,” Bucky said, his voice low. “And I broke- I crushed her ribs.”
A sharp shudder rocked his entire body. Just thinking of that moment, when his too-strong hands destroyed your chest, was enough to make him sick. To scar him for life. To haunt him. Of all the horrible things he’d done in over the years, this was the worst. He gave his hands a quick shake, hoping to rid his nerve endings of the sensation.
“I felt her bones snapping under my hands,” Bucky’s words dripped with shame. “And I can still… I still feel it.”
“Okay,” Maria said gently. “Well, if she-”
“She was already in such bad shape,” Bucky swiped a tear from his cheek. “And I… I hurt her. I made it so much worse.”
His head fell into his hands once again and did not reemerge.
“Hey, look at me,” Maria gave his arm a gentle touch.
Bucky only shook his head.
“Come on, Barnes, just look at me for a second.”
Again, he refused.
Maria abandoned her chair and sat instead on the small table. She never got this close to Bucky. Usually, she preferred to give him his space. He wasn’t the touchy-feely type- unless you were around. But he was lost in a shame spiral, adrift with no hope of return. And he needed rescuing. She placed her hands on his and gently removed them from his face.
“You saved her life,” Maria said. “Twice. You rescued her from the base, and when the med team needed help, you came through.”
“But I-”
“Did it work?” Maria asked, her tine almost stern. “Did the chest compressions work?”
Bucky nodded.
Maria gave him a shrug, “That’s all that matters. She can recover from a few broken ribs, but if you hadn’t been there-”
Bucky averted his gaze as his eyes filled with tears.
“Hey,” Maria grabbed his face, bringing his focus back to her. “If you hadn’t been there, she’d be dead.”
Maria’s words fought hard against the demeaning voice that lived inside Bucky’s head. It screamed at him, telling him that he shouldn’t believe her, that he was a monster, that he almost killed you. Usually, Bucky allowed his inner demons to run free. He listened to them without pause, believing anything and everything they told him, no matter how vile. But Maria was steadfast and unshakable in her sentiments; she truly believed what she was saying. And by some miracle, Bucky did, too.
“Thanks…” He granted her a hollow smile and a small nod.
Hill sat in silence with him for a few hours. She didn’t try to make small talk or ask what was going on inside his head. She simply existed near him, sharing the space so that he didn’t have to be alone. She ignored important texts and sent every call to voicemail. She knew it was exactly what you’d do for him, if you were able. And she did her best to fill your shoes.
Abruptly, Bucky’s head snapped in her direction. His pulse thrummed against his skin as a new wave of anxiety crashed over him. “She kept saying…” he sighed. “She kept saying we needed to talk. She wanted to talk to me about something.”
Maria cocked her head to the side, “About what?”
He shrugged. “I told her we could talk later because there would be plenty of time,” Bucky’s words grew shaky. He found himself near tears for what felt like the millionth time that day. Guilt sucker punched him. “What if… what if there isn’t more time for us? What if that was all we were ever going to get? What if-”
“You’ll get more time,” Maria said with certainty. “The universe has a way of evening things out. You were robbed of time once; it won’t happen again. Plus, you’re deserved some fucking karmic retribution- you’re owed this.”
Bucky wondered how she could be that sure of something so ethereal. But she was steady, solid as a rock. She didn’t waver in her words or add caveats at the end. She, somehow, knew it to be true. And Bucky couldn’t help but believe her.
But when Fury called her for the eighth time, she knew quiet time was over.
“I have to go, okay? Fury can’t do anything without me, he’s hopeless.” She stood from her seat and rested a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Call if you need anything.”
Bucky thanked her a million times over and, for the first time, gave Maria a hug. She would never know how much her reassurances helped him. She’d pulled him from the ledge and gave him what he desperately needed: perspective.
In the hours that followed, he let her words play on a constant loop inside his mind. “If you hadn’t been there, she’d be dead,” he heard her say. “You’ll get more time.” The sickening feeling of your bones snapping under his strength never faded, and the fear of losing you still had him in a chokehold, but Maria’s words quieted his mind.
In the sad, empty waiting room, time seemed to mutate. Some of the hours dragged, others whizzed by. Bucky wasn’t sure how long he’d been there. Was it ten hours? Or twenty? He didn’t really care. He’d wait lifetimes for you.
He saw the security guards change shifts once, twice. It was the only thing alerting him to the passage of time, as part of him believed it was standing still. On the third shift change, they told him to go home.
“They’ll call you if there’s an update”, said one of the guards. “It’d probably be a good idea for you to go get some sleep, or something.”
Bucky knew he looked like hell. Your blood left crimson streaks across his face and neck. And the dark circles he usually wore under his eyes were a deep shade of plum. But he couldn’t leave, he couldn’t sleep. Not when your life hung in the balance. Not when you needed him.
A few more hours passed with no news, and Bucky found himself teetering on the edge of insanity. An angry, desperate voice bellowed inside his head. It told him to bust through the doors and find you, no matter what it took- even if it meant hurting people in the process. The gun secured to his hip and the knife strapped to his ankle became eerily attractive. His hands itched to reach for the weapons, to hold someone at gun point until they allowed him to see you. But he couldn’t to give in to the fear, to the violence. It took him years of therapy and long talks with you to stop seeing himself as a monster- and he refused to destroy the progress you helped him make.
A doctor stepped out of the double doors and looked in Bucky’s direction, “Sergeant Barnes?”
Bucky was on his feet before he knew what hit him. This was it. After what felt like an eternity of not knowing whether you lived or died, he was about to have an answer. Sweat dampened his palm, his brow as he stood in front of your doctor.
He didn’t know he was even capable of this kind of fear, this kind of agony. And though he was an impossibly strong physical specimen, Bucky knew he’d never be able to lift the weight of the grief that followed your loss. He knew that, if you died, he’d spend the rest of his life dragging himself from place to place, unable to stand, unable to push back against the overwhelming, oppressive force of losing you.
Your doctor spoke quickly and professionally about your condition, but the words turned to mush the second they reached Bucky’s brain. The combination of medical jargon and pure panic made their meanings imperceptible. But one phrase managed to cut through the fog of Bucky’s anxiety and exhaustion: “you can see her now.”
And just like that, Bucky took off. His fatigued body did its best to carry him through the halls, stumbling every now and then on the smooth tile of the hospital floors. But he didn’t dare slow down. He had to get to you.
By the time he reached the door to your room, he found himself shaking- almost shivering- with anxiety. He knew you were alive, of course. Knew that the doctors had been successful in saving your life. But something in him doubted their handiwork. Something in him swore that if he didn’t get to you in the next half second, you’d flatline. Again.
He could practically feel his brain rattling around inside his skull, his teeth chattered against one another. And the sharp tremors in his hands made it nearly impossible to get a grip on the door handle. Panic and frustration coursed through him as the he tried again and again to gain entry to your room with no luck. A strangled sob forced its way out of his chest and caught the attention of a nurse- one of the nurses who helped keep you alive on the jet.
“Hey…” Her eyes drifted to Bucky’s shaking hands. “Need some help?” Before Bucky could answer, she’d abandoned the medication she was prepping, discarded her gloves, and made her way to his side.
“Here, let me.” Her soft, sympathetic tone was almost too kind; Bucky’s eyes blurred with tears. She turned the door handle and gestured for Bucky to go inside.
His “thank you” was for more than just the door.
Bucky took a few steps inside and drew in a sharp breath; he’d never seen you in such severe condition. Over the many hours that Bucky waited for you outside, all of your bruises grew darker, more menacing. They stained your throat, your face, your arms. He didn’t even want to think about the ones on your chest- the ones he caused. Dried blood crusted in your hair and formed a path down the side of your face. It sat caked under your fingernails and rested in the creases of your palms. Thankfully, your gunshot wound was covered by gauze and concealed by your gown. But knowing it was there was enough to make Bucky sick. He, of course, witnessed and inflicted, his fair share of carnage over the years. But he knew your wound would haunt him for years to come- simply because it was yours.
All he wanted was to be near you. To sit at your bedside and hold your hand. But he didn’t dare to get any closer. Electrodes attached a dozen wires to your chest. IVs sat lodged in the crooks of your elbows, in the backs of your hands. Machines and monitors kept track of your vitals. And who was he to disturb this fragile, vital ecosystem? What if he accidentally pulled out one of your IVs? What if he detached a wire by mistake? He’d already hurt you once today, he wasn’t about to do it again.
He, instead, opted to stand at attention. A few feet away. For your safety. He didn’t touch you, didn’t even say your name. He simply stared at you, counting your every breath.
An hour- or maybe two- passed by with him like this. Nurses checked on you, doctors poked their heads in. And every time, they told him he was permitted to sit by your bedside. But he just shook his head. Sure, slipping his hand into yours, being close to you- it would provide him with incomprehensible comfort. But he couldn’t, not when you were so severely injured.
After the third hour, Bucky feared his sanity was slipping. A wicked voice lodged deep in his psyche suddenly awakened. It whispered to him, taunted him. Maybe this was all a dream. Maybe he was asleep in the waiting room. Maybe you didn’t survive. Maybe…
And he would’ve believed it, had you not snapped him out of the vicious spiral.
“Buck?” He feared he’d never hear you voice again, but there it was. Hoarse and weak- but yours.
Bucky flew to your side. He cradled your face gingerly in his hands, completely consumed by the need to touch you, to feel you, to know that you were real. His palms laid flush against your cheeks, his thumbs sweeping over your skin. And in an instant, the sickly sensation of your snapping bones vanished.
A hurricane of tangled thoughts and emotions crashed over him. He had so much to he wanted to say, so much he wanted to confess to you. But the words refused to arrange themselves properly. Suddenly, Bucky wished he’d used his ample time in the waiting room to better organize his thoughts. He wished he’d sought out a pen and a scrap of paper and used them to plan and articulate his sentiment. But even if he’d found the supplies he needed, he wouldn’t have been able to jot a single thing down. Not with his shaking, unsteady hands.
Anxious words and broken sobs got stuck in his throat and formed a garbled, unintelligible mess as they left his mouth. But it was the best he could do. He stared at you, waiting for your response.
“I, um…” you looked at him for a long moment. The haze of head trauma, blood loss, and pain killers made you foggy. You did your best to trace your steps back through Bucky’s words, certain that your condition was the cause of your confusion. But after a significant pause, you came up empty. “Sorry, I- what?”
Bucky slid one of his hands into yours and gave a soft laugh. “Sorry. I tried to say-” He sat quiet for a moment. What had he tried to say, exactly? He wasn’t sure. With a small shake of his head, he re-rerouted. “Um, it doesn’t matter. Here, how’s this:” He cleared his throat and spoke with the sharpest pronunciation possible. “How are you feeling?”
Your laugh- Bucky’s favorite laugh- bubbled up to the surface. But regret swallowed you whole as pain shot through your head, your chest, your side. The hurt radiated through your entire being. It rendered you breathless, and left your face twisted in an agonized grimace.
Bucky didn’t like how long it took you to recover from the small chuckle you shot his way. A pang of worry shot through him. “Don’t exert yourself, okay?” He swept a thumb across your cheek, “you don’t wanna tear your stitches or...” He cleared his throat, “aggravate any, um, broken bones.” Bones that he broke.
“No, I’m…” you squeezed your eyes shut for a long moment before opening them again. The pain slowly receded. “I’m good, I’m okay. I just- breathing is hard. I forgot how shitty it feels to have broken ribs.”
Bucky nodded. His teeth sunk into the smooth flesh of his cheek. A metallic taste coated his mouth. He didn’t want to tell you the truth. Didn’t want you to know that he was the cause of your severe pain. But you deserved to know, didn’t you? With a deep sigh, he opened his mouth, intent on telling you what really happened. But you cut him off.
“Thank you, Buck. For coming to get me. I really thought I was…” Hot tears stung your eyes and blurred your vision. “I thought that was it for me, you know? And I just want you to know how-” you sniffed, “how grateful I am.”
Bucky left your side for only a second, retrieving a box of tissues from the counter across the room. He was back in no time and swept a tissue across your cheek to catch your tears.
“I know we always say that we have each other’s backs but you… you meant it,” you said. A small smile pulled at your lips, “thank you for meaning it.”
Bucky nodded. He did his best to keep his breathing steady, to stop himself from falling apart at the seams. He knew exactly what it felt like to be left behind, to wait for your last moments- alone.
“I wasn’t gonna leave you there, doll. I couldn’t.”
You gave a small nod. “Yeah, I- I wish my partner had felt the same way…” The hurt in your voice was unmistakable. It sliced though Bucky’s chest. “I didn’t think he would ever do something like that. I mean, I thought we were friends.”
The mere thought of Jake brought a familiar rage to the forefront of Bucky’s mind. He didn’t understand how anyone could be so callous, so uncaring- so indifferent to the well-being of others. The part of him that swore off unnecessary violence remained quiet as the rest of him imagined Jake’s demise. He wanted your disloyal partner to suffer. To squirm and squeal and regret that he ever left you behind. But that could wait- you were the priority.
“Yeah, I didn’t expect him to be that kind of person,” Bucky sighed, “he seemed like a stand-up guy.”
Silence filled the room as you thought over Jake’s desertion. His abandonment hurt. It stung in places you didn’t expect. You’d taken Jake under your wing and did everything in your power to be the best leader possible. All you wanted was to help him. To set him up for success.
And after working alongside Bucky for so long, you’d forgotten that disloyalty to one’s partner was even an option.
“He probably panicked,” you tried to rationalize. “And then once he realized what he’d done, maybe he…”
There was no rationalizing this.
An ugly realization slithered into your mind. “After he left, I think he probably hoped I’d just die… that way I wouldn’t be able to give my side of the story.” The weight of Jake’s actions hit you like a train. Rivulets of warm tears rolled down your cheeks, only to be swept away by Bucky’s gentle hand. With a small shake of your head, you did your best to banish the feelings of abandonment and betrayal. Wallowing would only make you more miserable. And you didn’t need emotional pain on top of the physical agony that already plagued you.
“Well, joke’s on him,” you shrugged, “cause I’m still alive.” Pain radiated through your chest, bringing a grimace to your face. “Kind of.”
Bucky didn’t understand how you could just dismiss the bad feelings. Couldn’t understand your propensity for levity. Your partner left you for dead without a second thought- and yet, you found a way to joke about it. It was something he’d always admired about you, something he wished he was capable of.
You gave a strained laugh, “I can’t wait to see the look on Jake’s face when he finds out that I didn’t die.”
Bucky wasn’t sure what prompted him to say it. It left his mouth without his brain’s authorization.
“But you did.”
He wished to take the words back, but it was too late. They hung in the air, just out of his reach.
“I…” you struggled to grasp Bucky’s words. “I what?”
This was not the time- or the place, or the way- to tell you the truth. But he didn’t have a choice. His clumsy words made his bed, and now he had to lie in it.
“You, um…” Bucky didn’t want to think about what happened, let alone say it out loud. But he owed it to you to be honest. Especially after Jake had lied to you about being a trustworthy partner. Bucky scratched at the stubble on his face, ran a hand through his hair. Anything to delay the inevitable. But he couldn’t put it off for long. “Your heart stopped- you died. On the jet.”
Only one word fell from your lips, “Oh…”
“And while I’m at it, I might as well tell you that…” Bucky took a deep inhale. He was in too deep now. And keeping this from you any longer felt like lying. “That your ribs are broken because of me.”
A quizzical look crossed your face, “what do you mean?”
“I mean… the med team was short staffed on the jet. There were only three of them. And when you crashed, it was- it was an all hands on deck situation.” He flashed back to the moment when the alarms sounded. When your EKG flatlined. A shudder ran through him. “They needed me to do chest compressions. And I- I didn’t want to hurt you, but the nurse said I wasn’t pushing hard enough to actually help you. And when I pushed harder- I broke your ribs.”
Bucky searched your face for something- anything. Anger. Fear. Betrayal. But he found nothing. Your expression was as neutral as they come. He feared that something lingered just below the surface. That once you fully processed his words, you’d erupt into a perfect storm of disgust and disappointment.
He told himself to wait silently until you made up your mind. But the outburst exploded from his lips before he could stop it. “I’m sorry- I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You know I’d never want to hurt you, I would never do anything to hurt you. But I… they told me I had to push harder. Or it wasn’t going to work. And I just wanted it to work, I wanted you to be okay, and-”
It took almost all of your strength to raise your hand and place a finger to Bucky’s lips. He fell silent.
“Buck, it’s okay.”
He tried to form a rebuttal, but you cut him off.
“You didn’t have to rescue me, but you did. No questions asked, no hesitation. You saved my life by getting me out of there. And you saved me again by helping the med team.” Your hand drifted from Bucky’s face and landed in his palm. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Bucky didn’t say anything else. His fingers traced gentle patterns on your palm. His eyes fell downward. You could almost see the shame eating him alive from the inside.
“Hey,” you intertwined your fingers with his. “I can handle a few broken ribs.”
“No, I- I know you can. I just…” A sad smiled flickered across his lips. “I feel terrible. You went through a lot. And I just don’t like knowing I made it worse.”
A long silence filled the room. You’d seen this side of Bucky more times than you could count. And you knew him well enough to know what followed. He was going to feel bad- terrible, actually- about this for a while. There was no accelerating the process or absolving him of his guilt. No amount of reassurances could save him from it. He just had to sit with it. One day, the weight would diminish. But it was going to take time. And that was okay.
You gave his hand a squeeze. “I thought your voice was a hallucination, you know.”
Bucky lifted his head.
“And when you came into the room, I actually thought that was a hallucination, too.” A smile stretched across your face, “I mean, I thought I was losing my mind.”
Bucky gave a half-hearted chuckle. He didn’t want to think about you in that room by yourself. About you struggling to tell what was real.
“But then you touched me…” You raised your hand and brushed it across your cheek, mimicking him. “And that’s when I realized that you were real- that you were there.” You fell quiet for a moment, lost in the memory of Bucky’s rescue. “It was like, in that moment, I wasn’t scared anymore. I wasn’t scared of the pain. I wasn’t scared of dying. I was just scared that…”
“What?”
“You have to promise not to laugh,” you told him with an authoritative tone. “Cause I know it’s corny, or cheesy, or whatever.”
“Sweetheart,” Bucky drew an X over his heart. “I’m not gonna laugh at you.”
You stared at him with narrowed eyes, sizing up his promise. But, of course, you knew Bucky would never tease or ridicule you about something like this.
“Okay, fine, I um… I was scared that I’d never see you again. If I died, I mean.”
Bucky’s lungs emptied. He couldn’t remember how to breathe, how to speak. A sudden ache ripped through his heart as it splintered and shattered into a million pieces. To know that you thought of him in what you believed were your last moments somehow ripped him apart and put him back together all at once.
Your voice cracked. Tears filled your eyes. “I was afraid that we’d already run out of time. I was afraid that we weren’t going to get any more.” A few soft sobs escaped from your throat, followed by a pained groan. But you pushed passed the throbbing in your chest. “But I was so relieved. Because I got to see you one last time. It was the most intense sense of peace I’ve ever experienced.”
Bucky struggled to hold on to his composure. He felt himself crumbling, weakening under the weight of your words.
“But then I realized- I realized I’d never get to tell you. And you kept saying we could talk later, but I didn’t know if there would be a ‘later’. And when I blacked out, I was so full of…” You shook your head ever so slightly, sending a few tears dripping onto your cheeks. “I had so much regret. Because I needed you to know.”
“To know what?” Bucky leaned in close, searching your face for any inkling, any clue. “Doll, it’s ‘later’. Tell me- whatever it is. You can tell me now, it’s-”
Your lips met his in a soft kiss. In it, everything you’d ever felt for him came rushing forward. Admiration. Longing. Lust. Obsession. Adoration. Love.
A sting of pain jolted through you as your split lip brushed his, but you didn’t care. His hands found your face, your fingers curled into the collar of his shirt. It was always supposed to be this way.
When the two of you finally separated, Bucky simply stared at you. He didn’t move, he didn’t speak. He wasn’t sure he knew how.
“I love you, Buck. I’ve loved you- for so long.” A huff left your chest, “So. Long.”
Still, Bucky remained silent. Nerves began crawling through you like vines, twisting their way through every fiber of your being. But you owed it to yourself, and to Bucky, to tell him the truth.
“And I just… I know how you see yourself. And I know you don’t think you’re even worthy of my friendship, let alone love. But I was so anxious, cause I thought you’d never know the truth. I thought I’d die without getting to tell you. And you’d live the rest of your life thinking that you’re not worthy, that no one could ever love you. But I- I love you. I just needed you to know.”
The silence made your ears ring. Bucky’s face still wore a mask of bewilderment. And you feared you’d ruined everything.
“You don’t have to say it back, though,” you said. “I’m not gonna stop being your friend if this is an unrequited thing.”
Finally, Bucky came back to life. He rolled his eyes and let a scoff escape his lips. He leaned in close, the tip of his nose almost brushing yours. “Unrequited? I broke every SWORD rule and policy. Abducted medical staff. Stole a jet. And went on an unauthorized mission. All to get you back. I didn’t even know if you were alive, I just- I had to bring you home.”
He closed the small gap that remained between your face and his and granted you warm, gentle kiss that tasted like home. “I did all that- and you thought there was even a chance that I didn’t love you back?” Bucky gave a playful roll of his eyes, “you don’t know me at all, sweetheart.”
You returned his eye roll. "Well, you're a really great friend to me. And you always have been. So, I didn’t take a rescue as a proclamation of love,” you gave a strained chuckle. “I just thought-”
“I’ve loved you for…” Bucky thought back over the course of your friendship. The day you first met, the first time you helped him through a panic attack, the time he made you the ugliest cake in the world for your birthday. He saw his life in two parts: before he met you and after he met you. And he so preferred the after.
“I don’t even know how long,” he shrugged. It was almost automatic. His feelings for you didn’t need a slow, gradual build up. They descended upon him all at once, like the world’s most beautiful avalanche. “It’s been a long time- an embarrassing amount of time, probably,” he laughed.
“Oh, so we’re both cowards then,” you shot him a wink. “Too afraid to tell the other how we feel.”
Bucky nodded, “It seems that way…”
“But you weren’t too scared to steal a jet and run into possible gun fire?” you quipped.
“Nope. Didn’t even think about it,” he said matter-of-factly. “I just wanted to find you.”
You’d never experienced a love- a commitment- like that. It sent a rush of warmth into your cheeks and somehow eased the pain plaguing your body. You knew in your heart you would’ve done the same for Bucky without a second thought. But knowing that he was so fiercely determined to bring you home felt almost unbelievable. You had the proof, though, right there in front of you. This man, who you loved, loved you too. And loved you enough to risk his life for you. It wasn’t something you’d ever ask him to do, and you knew you’d never have to. He’d do it without hesitation. Without reservation. He’d walk through fire for you if it meant bringing you home.
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Imagine jealous!sharon want to get you out of the way so she can be with Bucky…
She hurts you (even it’s like a bruise) and Bucky begins to be so protective of you 🥺🥵
ABSOLUTELY.
I'm imaging this with a soft sweet reader and fuckboi Bucky. Hear me out, okay.
He's not looking for a relationship at all, finally feeling a sense of freedom after getting a bit of himself back. He's so flirty with everyone, so charming, he knows he can get whoever he wants.
He fucks.
A lot.
Sharon eats it up, loving the smirks he gives her, his playful baby blue eyes always sparkling. She loves the naughty way he bites his lip and don't even get her started on how gorgeous he is when he works out shirtless. His Brooklyn accent comes out when he calls her darlin' and it makes her weak in the knees.
There's just one issue.
The looks he gives Sharon aren't special. She's not the only one he calls darlin', even the old lady at the coffee shop shares the same pet name. Bucky can't help the little smirks he tosses around to others, flirty compliments naturally falling from his lips. He's a bit of a heart breaker but it's who he is.
That's just Bucky.
That's Bucky with everyone else.
Then there's Bucky with you.
The quite lab assistant who worked at the compound.
He didn't have it in him to playfully flirt with you when you asked about his day. He actually liked talking to you, finding any excuse under the sun to keep the conversation going, poking at the little nick knacks you have on your desk so he doesn't have to leave so quickly.
Sharon hates the way he looks at you. Whenever he's around you, he looks at you with puppy eyes as if he's wondering how someone so sweet could possibly exist. She catches onto the way he's not the same with you as he is with others. He's called everyone in passing darlin' with a drawl of his voice but you're his doll. He's never used that with anyone else. That's reserved just for you.
She can't stand it.
At first she tries to pick you apart in subtle ways' maybe you'd finally realize you had no business talking to someone like Bucky.
"You're so pretty even though you wear glasses"
"Don't worry, that dress would still look good on your body type, its meant to suit everyone"
"I wish I was as brave as you to wear that! I'd love to have that much confidence but I could never"
She smiled sweetly while you pulled your lab coat closer together, clutching it tightly in your hand. Your heart sank to your stomach. You'd worn one of your favorite dresses, one many others had always said you looked perfect in but some how Sharon made you doubt that, despite her sugary smile.
Then she took it a step further to make sure you were more isolated, insisting you'd be uninterested in plans when the team wanted to go out. Purposely giving you extra work when they had drinks together. Anything to keep you sad and holed away in your lab while she kept Bucky all to herself.
She'd do anything to get rid of you.
She was almost certain everything was going accordingly to plan, inching closer and closer to Bucky during a movie night until she was pressed against him, sharing his blanket. Not that Bucky noticed since he was more distracted over the fact that Sam was also squished against him on the other side of the small couch. Sam was also buried under the now too hot blanket, his deep snores irrupting the movie having fell asleep on Bucky's shoulder.
"Damn bird brain" Bucky huffed, ignoring the fact that he pushed Sharon off while reluctantly adjusting himself so Sam's head wouldn't slip, shaking his head when Sam grumbled, trying to snuggle into Bucky more.
"Bet you wish that was y/n, huh" Tony wiggled his eyebrows and much to Sharon's distain, Bucky blushed. Not did he deny it.
It didn't matter though. She'd find a way to get Bucky's attention, it wasn't like you were real competition anyways. She figured you'd have the sense to like someone better suited for you, someone in your league, definitely not the very handsome Sergeant.
That was until she found out you had a crush on the super soldier yourself. You'd let it slip out during a conversation with Nat, not realizing there was someone near the lab. Sharon didn't think you actually had a chance with Bucky but it didn't matter.
At this point she didn't care about what it took.
She was sick of the way Bucky was soft over you.
So she took a more direct approach.
"Y'know, I heard someone has a little crush on a certain super soldier" Sharon smirked, wandering to your table, tinkering with one of your tools while you looked at her like a deer caught in head lights.
How did she know?!"
"I-I don't-
"Oh please y/n, everyone knows" the blonde rolled her eyes at your gaping mouth before continuing, "I just thought I should let you know that he's not interested"
You felt like you had been punched in the stomach, the hurt expression on your face made her satisfied,.
"Oh" Was all you mustered out, embarrassed beyond belief while she shrugged. You blinked back tears while Sharon squeezed your shoulder out of faux concern, handing you a tissue.
"I'm so sorry, honestly I just thought you should know because he likes me. And I like him. So it would be best for you to move on, because were seeing each other" It didn't matter if it was a lie because she intended on making it real soon enough.
From that day, you avoided everyone in the compound like the plague, throwing yourself into work, feeling ridiculous for having even thought of Bucky that way. Of course he'd never go for someone like you, you should've known that from the start.
Sharon's plan was short lived after she overheard Bucky worriedly asking Tony about where you'd been all week since he hadn't seen you. After some endless teasing, Tony reassured him you were fine and just busy with lab work, not knowing the true reason as to why you'd overloaded yourself.
Sharon despised the pink that decorated Bucky's cheeks whenever someone said your name.
She hated that she'd seen him walking by the lab hallway in search of you.
She'd do anything to end all of this.
Including hurt you.
-
You made your way down to the gym hoping to sweat some of your unrequited feelings away, putting on your headphones before hopping on the treadmill. Sharon walked in moments later, blonde hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, her toned body on full display in nothing but a sports bra and some tiny shorts.
You felt even worse.
You tried to stay hidden, deciding 15 minutes would be enough, though your escape was cut short with Sharon caught your arm just as you were about to leave.
"How about we spar for a bit" She smiled sweetly, giggling at your confused expression. You'd never sparred in your life, in fact this was probably the third time you'd even used the gym the entire time you'd lived at the compound.
"Sharon, I-I don't think that's a good idea, I've never-
She cut you off, dragging you to the mat, practically shoving you to the middle with more force than necessary.
"It's fine! I mean, it's good for you to learn since you work here n'all C'mon, I'll help you and show you what to do" Before you could say anything, Sharon had flipped you onto the mat, twisting your arm behind your back without warning. You gasped in pain as she gripped harder, pulling further up your back until she heard your joints crack.
"Let-let go" You winced out, confused over what part of sparring this was, your body hitting the floor when she released her grip.
"Ops" Sharon pouted with faux innocence, taking a long sip from her water while you hissed in pain, seeing the formation of a bruise already forming on your arm.
"SHARON"
Sharon squeaked in surprised at the loud voice that boomed through the gym, bouncing off the walls. Her eyes shot up to see a very angry super solder making his way over to the mat, eyes darkening as they landed to your injured form on the ground.
"What the fuck did you do?!"
"Bucky, we were just-
"Don't" Bucky growled through gritted teeth, rushing over to your side, and slipping his arm around your waist.
"Angel, are you okay?" He cupped your cheek, helping you to your feet and taking your hand in his, examining it with the utmost care. "Are you hurt anywhere?"
"M'all right" You nodded, your face heating up under his gaze, still a little shaken, your body trembling.
"How the fuck could you hurt her" Bucky spat, his metal hand clenched to his side, itching to punch Sharon in the jaw, having seen what she had just done but he didn't want to deal with the mess that would come afterwards. "The hell did you do that for"
"Excuse me? I was just showing her how to-"
Bucky's jaw clenched, instantly shutting her up. He refused to let go of you, keeping you firmly tucked into his side, growing unbelievably protective over you.
"Fine, go ahead, I'm sure she's different from all your other little side pieces" Sharon scoffed, smirking at the way your face fell. Bucky felt like he'd been hit in the chest; you were far more than any of his hook ups and he'd never considered treating you that way.
"You. Don't. Touch. Her" He glared her at before walking off with you. After the incident, Bucky insisted you go to the doctors to get checked over, waiting outside of the room like a kicked puppy. He couldn't help but feel guilty that all this had happened because of him. He also wondered that you thought.
Did you think he'd just use you for one night?
He would never.
He knew he wasn't into dating. He gave up on the dream of getting married, having kids, all that years ago. But that was before he met you. Ever since you'd thrown him a shy smile along with the softest hello Sergeant Barnes, Bucky had been a goner.
If his feelings were was bad before, it was even worse now.
You were told to ice your arm for the pain and swelling. Bucky had swept you away right to the kitchen, despite you telling him you'd be fine, plopping you onto the kitchen island wrapping an ice pack in a towel. He held it to your arm, frowning at the way you refused to look at him, your face downcast to the floor.
"Doll?" Bucky wrapped his arms around you for a comforting hug, wondering if the altercating with Sharon was still upsetting you, "Are you okay sweets? I missed you, haven't seen you in ages"
"I-I'm fine, I'm sorry" You pulled away from his arms, remembering Sharon's words from earlier, instantly missing the warmth of his body. "I know you don't feel the same way Bucky" You bit your lip to keep it from trembling.
Bucky blinked in confusion, having no idea what you were talking about. What did he not feel the same way over.
"What do you mean y/n"
"I mean I like you-but I know you don't like me that way so I kept myself busy so I wouldn't bother you because Sharon said-
"Wait, slow down, what did Sharon say"
You sighed before recounting all the things that had lead to this moment, Sharon insulting you, then telling you to back off, to straight up fighting you.
"Oh doll" Bucky shook his head, feeling worse over what had happened but over the moon over your confessed feelings, "She's right you know," He teased at the pout that made it's way to your lips before playfully pecking them, catching you by surprise.
"I don't do relationships. Certainly never had before. That was before I met the sweetest thing in the world and she's had my heart since" Bucky whispered, his hands, one warm, one cool cupping your cheeks, "She has me dreamin' of sayin' I do and that white picket fence, a ring on her finger, a pretty little baby bump with flowers on the window sill. Maybe a baby boy n' a baby girl. Maybe even a cat. She's the cutest little lab assistance and I'd love for her to be my girl, sweets"
Bucky held your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing over your warm cheeks while you grew bashfully shy, burying your face into his chest instead, making him chuckle.
"I didn't think you were the relationship type" You shrugged, toying with his dog tags, "I'm not you're darlin' Bucky"
"That's cause you're my doll" Bucky tilted your face up making you look up at him, his lips pressing the softest kiss to your nose and then your lips. "My one and only doll"
#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fluff#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes angst#bucky angst#bucky fanfic#bucky x you#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes fanmix#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky fan fics#bucky fan fic#bucky fan fiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#marvel fanfics#protective bucky barnes#bucky barnes x f reader#bucky#soft bucky#sharon carter
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Small Victories
18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
{Daemon Targaryen X Reader} After a tourney in which Daemon places second, he seeks solace from his loss and finds it in his little northern maid.
♡♡ Hello darlings! I'm branching out slightly and writing about a new character {Don't worry, I'm still writing Elijah} xoxo ♡♡
5.3k words - Warnings: smutt, size!kink, rough sex, dom!daemon, slight choking, virgin!reader, northern!reader, servant!reader, pre-dance Daemon, huge power imbalance...
♡♡ Hey! I didn't tag anyone because I'm unsure if you want to read Daemon content. If you wish to be tagged in future Daemon let me know ♡♡
You didn't like the Red Keep, it was too grand for your liking. Even with all of the people in it you still felt alone. At night, you could hear voices echoing throughout the halls, sometimes they were singing or laughing and other times they were screaming or moaning.
You could never tell where the sounds were coming from, it gave the place an odd feeling of being haunted. Ghosts weren't something you put your faith in, but that didn't stop the hair from standing up on the back of your neck whenever you heard a strange sound.
If it was up to you, you wouldn't live here. You would be back in the little cottage you grew up in, far into the north and as far away from King's landing as you could possibly be. It was a funny contradiction, that such a grand place in a warm environment could feel so cold, while a small house in the cold north could feel so full of warmth.
The last thing your mother said to you, was that you should be grateful. That your place in the Red Keep was the highest honor your family could ever hope to receive, and that you should do anything to stay here. To be a lady's maid to the queen, was the highest achievement a low born could achieve.
You tried to be, even though your heart yearned for the snowy landscape of your childhood. You wanted to be happy, you were thankful, but you couldn't help the way you missed the north.
So to try and capture just a bit of personal freedom, you would walk the halls at night. It was the only time you could pretend to be somewhere else, even if it was only for a moment. You would close your eyes and imagine yourself somewhere new and exciting, and when you opened them you would be reminded of where you really were.
Tonight you were in a particularly adventurous mood, there was a tourney the next day for Prince Viserys and his wife Aemma to celebrate their wedding. The Red Keep would be full of guests and it would be loud and full of life, you were sure to be very busy, and so you decided to stay up late and postpone sleep for a few more hours.
There was a room in the library that had a view of the city, one you liked to frequent often. It had a large window and a balcony that was rarely used. It was a nice place to go to clear your mind and think about home.
When you entered, nobody was around except for a cat that was perched on the windowsill. She was a lovely thing with black fur and bright green eyes, the perfect color of a dark forest at night.
"Hello, beautiful." You greeted her with a smile and a light stroke along her back. You looked out the window with her at your side, watching the moon reflect off the ocean and the waves crashing against the shore.
The sound of footsteps behind you made you look over your shoulder, your eyes landing on a man with a face that made you stand up straight and bow your head.
"Prince Daemon." You greeted him, not looking up from the floor.
"Young maidens like yourself shouldn't be out so late." He said, stepping closer to you. You didn't dare move or even breathe, his presence made you feel like you were caught doing something wrong.
"I couldn't sleep, my lord," You answered, not meeting his eyes. This was your first real meeting with the prince, but you knew the rumors that surrounded him.
He didn't respond to your answer, instead, he turned his attention towards the view. Leaning against the window, his posture was dismissive, as though you weren't there. He gave you a side glance that read, 'leave,' and so you did, not wanting to get in his way.
"I apologize, I didn't mean to intrude." You said, walking past him, heading towards the doorway.
"You are from the north," he spoke, still looking out into the water.
"Yes, my lord," You answered, stopping when he started speaking.
"How did you find yourself as a maid in the south?" He asked, looking at you, his eyes piercing through you.
The truth of the matter made you feel shameful, even though it was beyond your control. So you decided to tell him what you've been telling everyone.
"I was given as a gift for our new queen," You said, looking down at the floor.
"Is that what they call it?" Daemon laughed, his laugh was as harsh as his voice, the kind of laugh that could cut you open if you let it. "I heard you were given away as payment for a debt."
Your cheeks reddened and you looked at the ground, your throat closing up at the mention of your family's failure. Pride wasn't something you could afford anymore, but you couldn't stop the words that came out of your mouth.
"I didn't realize that princes were so fond of gossip." You said, meeting his eyes, your words were meant to cut, and they did.
He stood up straight, his expression unreadable as he closed the distance between the two of you, towering over you.
"Ahh, so they did sell you." He smirked, looking down at you. "Whoring can make you better coin… recover a debt quicker."
Your hands balled up into fists and you took a step closer, a defiant glare on your face.
He chuckled and tilted his head, he reached out and touched your chin, his hand was soft but firm as he turned your face to look at him.
"With a pretty face like yours, I'm sure you would make quite a bit of coin," His voice was a purr, a seductive growl that made your insides feel tight. "I could show you a better use for those lips."
His words were shockingly vulgar, his voice was rough and commanding and his eyes were hungry, but you didn't move away, you stayed still. You knew the dragon prince was a scandalous man, but you didn't think he would ever be so bold.
"There is no honor in a whore's coin." You answered, pushing his hand away from your face.
"Is there honor in emptying the queen's chamber pot?" He retorted, grinning slightly at how red your cheeks had become.
"Not all of us have the opportunity to choose what sort of honor we can acquire,” You said, standing your ground as best as you could.
He towered over you, his tall frame casting a shadow that almost completely covered you. He wasn't like the king or queen, who were kind and generous. There was something dark and malicious about him, as though the great beasts of his house lurked just below his skin, waiting to come out.
"You have a smart mouth, little northerner." He mused, his eyes drifting down to your lips. "It's a wonder that the queen has not put a gag in it."
"It's a poor quality I have yet to overcome." You responded, pulling away from him and putting some distance between the two of you.
He watched you move away, his eyes following your movements and the shape of your body, making you feel hot.
"I will think of you when I win the tourney tomorrow." He said, his tone smug and confident. "A sweet northern flower to bring back with me."
"You will be bringing back nothing, prince Daemon." You said, your voice a warning.
He laughed and looked at you, his eyes dancing with mischief.
"We'll see about that."
And with those final words, he left the room. You felt flustered and annoyed, a strange mixture of feelings that confused and angered you. You didn't like the prince, but he made your heart race, his voice and his eyes made you feel a strange sense of heat.
You wanted to be disgusted, and yet all you could think about was seeing him again.
It was a hectic morning, with all the knights and guests arriving, and you were late. Your tardiness had earned you a sharp reprimand from your head maid, but you were too distracted by the upcoming event to care.
The prospect of seeing the prince again was something you weren't sure you wanted, but couldn't stop thinking about.
You didn't like the way his eyes lingered on you, or how he made you feel things that shouldn't be felt. The rogue prince was indeed a fitting title, he was a scoundrel and a liar, a man of dishonor.
You thought that maybe he was the sort of person that the south created, perhaps they took people like you and turned them into someone like him. But then again, he wasn't really a southerner, no, he was a dragon.
The sound of cheers and laughter outside made your ears perk up. The queen was already seated with the other royals in their viewing box, and you were in a nearby tent, preparing more wine and food.
The tourney had just begun, and so far the knights had all performed well. You had only been paying a bit of attention, trying to do your job and keep out of the way.
The head maid was a cruel, vindictive woman, and she had been taking out her frustration on you all day. Her temper was short and her hands were rough, she was the kind of woman that would slap your hands or pull your hair if she was upset. But today she decided to simply make your life miserable with her words.
She gave you the worst jobs and the heaviest items to carry, and when she did allow you to stand and rest, she would hit your feet with her broom and tell you to get back to work.
"Once you are finished pouring wine, I want you to go to the prince's tent and serve him." She ordered, her eyes were sharp and her words were harsh.
"The prince has a squire to serve him." You protested, the idea of facing Daemon again made your cheeks turn red.
"The prince requested a woman's company,” She smiled, her eyes looking at you with an almost wicked satisfaction.
"I believe what the prince is looking for can be found on the street of silk, not among the ladies maids." You countered, hoping to change her mind.
"It's an honor to serve the prince, and he has specifically asked for a northern girl." The head maid was adamant, not willing to let this go.
You clenched your jaw and took a deep breath, biting your tongue as you looked at the floor.
"Very well, madam."
You held back tears as you climbed the stairs to the viewing box, pouring wine into the cups. Keeping your eyes low and only lifting them when absolutely necessary as you made your way down the line of royals.
Everyone began to stir and chat as the final round was announced. You turned to face the arena, watching as the prince mounted his horse, the sight of him made your heart flutter.
He was a handsome man, there was no denying that, his long blonde hair was braided and tied back, and his purple eyes were focused and determined.
His horse was a massive stallion, black as night, and he rode him as though they were one. He moved with a grace and confidence that was captivating.
The final round began, the two men charging at each other. You were nervous and excited, not knowing what to expect.
The clash of steel was the only sound in the air, it echoed throughout the entire arena. The crowd was silent, their eyes locked on the scene before them.
The two men passed each other, once, twice, three times. The tension building with each near miss, until finally the two knights clashed again.
Daemon's opponent had a slight edge over him, being bigger and stronger, but Daemon was quicker. But on the fourth pass, his opponent managed to catch him off guard, sending him flying into the dirt.
The crowd gasped, their hands covering their mouths as the prince's horse bucked and ran, leaving him in the dust.
You winced at the sight, it wasn't a good fall. He landed on his back, hard, and he lay still for a moment, his eyes squeezed shut as he caught his breath.
Only when the head maid cleared her throat did you realize you had been holding your breath.
"You are needed in the prince's tent, girl." she commanded, grabbing the jug from your hands and giving you a stern look.
You nodded, taking the tray of food and wine from the table and heading out of the box. Your heart was racing and your palms were sweaty, the thought of seeing Daemon after such a public humiliation was not something you were looking forward to.
The air was alive with the roar of the people, and the thumping of their feet sounded like thunder. They were chanting for the champion, something that would surely upset Daemon even more.
When you got to his tent, you hesitated, taking a moment to calm your nerves. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, letting the noise of the crowd fade away.
You stepped inside, finding him sitting in a chair, his shirt was off and his squire was cleaning a nasty gash on his arm.
"I'm sorry for intruding, Prince Daemon." You said, placing the tray of food on the table and pouring a cup of wine.
"Leave," he barked at his squire, his voice was gruff and his jaw was clenched.
"But my prince-" his squire protested, looking up from the wound he was treating.
"Now."
The boy left quickly, leaving you alone with the brooding prince.
"Would you like some wine, my lord?" You asked, your voice soft and timid, the last thing you wanted was to make him even more upset.
"No," he hissed, his voice sharp as a knife. "Bring me a new shirt."
You did as he asked, walking over to the large chest in the corner. It was full of clothes, the colors and fabrics were fine and beautiful. You selected a clean white shirt and brought it over to him, your eyes focused on the ground.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice was quiet, but it was a demand, not a request.
You lifted your eyes, meeting his gaze. His eyes were cold, the same shade of violet that had captivated you was now a glare.
You did very well, my lord," You tried to reassure him, your voice soft and comforting.
"Is that meant to be comforting?" He asked, his tone was harsh and his expression was a scowl.
"Fine. I have never seen a worse display than the one you put on today," you said, the words slipping from your mouth before you could stop them.
He smiled, then laughed, his shoulders shaking as his amusement grew. Only his brother the king would ever talk to him this way, and here you were, a young low born northerner, mocking him. He didn't know why he enjoyed it coming from you, perhaps it was because your words meant nothing. You were no one, and he was the prince, and yet he found himself intrigued.
"That was quite a show, wasn't it?" He chuckled, the sound was hollow, not at all humorous.
"It was humiliating," you answered, the words escaping before you could stop them.
"Careful," he warned, his eyes narrowing. "You're lucky I find your insolence amusing."
"I thought it was why you had asked for me," you retorted, setting the shirt on the table and taking a step back.
He stood up from the chair, closing the space between the two of you. The air was thick with tension, his eyes boring into yours, his face was inches from yours.
"I didn't lose the tourney," he stated, his voice a low growl.
"You didn't win either," you countered, your cheeks flushed red, your heart racing in your chest.
He smiled, the gesture was almost predatory, he reached out and grabbed your face, his hands were rough and his grip was tight.
"You are quite the mouthy little wench," his words were a harsh whisper, his breath hot against your skin.
You didn't answer, afraid of what he would do if you spoke. He seemed to be enjoying himself, his eyes dancing with amusement as he stared at you.
"On your knees," he ordered, his tone demanding.
"My lord, I-" you protested, trying to pull away.
"Kneel," his voice was louder this time, and you knew that he was not going to repeat himself.
You hesitated for a moment, but he was the prince, and you couldn't disobey him. So you lowered yourself onto your knees, looking up at him, waiting for him to tell you what to do next.
"Is it true that northern girls can take a cock better than southern ones?" He asked, his hand still holding onto your chin.
You didn't know how to respond, his words making your cheeks burn. You could only stare at him, your mind reeling as you tried to figure out what he wanted.
He smiled, and the look in his eyes made your heart race. "Open your mouth, little northerner."
You did as he commanded, your eyes never leaving his. He pushed his thumb past your lips and slowly pressed down onto your tongue, rubbing it in circles before slowly dragging it out.
Your lips parted and your breathing became heavier as he traced his wet thumb across your bottom lip, his eyes fixated on the movement.
"Beautiful." He whispered before sliding his thumb back into your mouth, pushing it all the way into your throat, causing you to gag.
He pulled his thumb from your mouth and wiped the spit off on your cheek before grabbing you by the arms and lifting you up, turning you around and pushing you face first into the table.
"My lord," you gasped, struggling against his strong grip.
Daemon laughed at the look of shock on your face, his cock growing harder at the sight. "See? I knew you would make a great whore," he smirked, his words bringing a flush to your face.
He pulled your dress up, exposing your ass and legs. His hands were rough as he groped you, squeezing your thighs and your cheeks.
You pushed against him, trying to free yourself, but his grip was too strong. He pushed your thighs apart, his hand trailing up to your cunt, his fingers stroking your entrance, teasing you.
He softened at your defiance, a smirk crossing his lips. "I enjoy you, little northerner. Perhaps I should keep you," he mused.
He slid his finger into your cunt, his touch gentle and slow. You whimpered, pushing against him again.
"You would be my little northern flower," he murmured, his finger moving in and out of your cunt, the pace becoming quicker. "A blue rose in my garden."
You were ashamed of how aroused you were, the prince's touch was intoxicating, and you couldn't stop yourself from grinding your hips against his hand. You had never been with a man before and the pleasure he was giving you was beyond anything you had ever felt.
He slid another finger inside of you, his movements quick and rough. You moaned, biting your lip as you felt yourself getting closer to release.
He suddenly pulled away, the sudden absence of his touch made you whimper. He spun you around, knocking objects off the table and pinning you against it. Your hands went to his chest, pushing him back, but his grip was too strong, his eyes filled with lust.
"You're a feisty one," he whispered, his lips trailing down your neck, his hands gripping your ass, lifting you up and pressing you against his hips. "I guess it's true that the fires always burn hotter in the north,"
You shivered as he sucked and bit at the skin on your neck, his teeth scraping across your sensitive flesh, leaving red marks behind. You couldn't help but moan, the feeling was so intense, and the sounds were so sinful.
"My prince... I..." You stuttered, trying to find the words, but he cut you off with a kiss.
The feel of his hands on your body, his lips on yours, his cock hard against you, was intoxicating. You had never felt this way before, this desire, this want. He made you feel like you were drowning in the fire of his touch. He was a dragon, and he would take what he wanted.
You couldn't resist, you gave in, kissing him back, letting his tongue explore your mouth. He smelled of blood, dirt and sweat, a combination that shouldn't have been appealing, but was.
You could taste his lust on your lips, and it made you hungry for more. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing yourself closer to him, and he moaned, the sound rumbling in his chest. He was so much larger than you, so much stronger, and you felt so small in his arms.
His hand trailed down your chest, slowly untying the strings that held up your dress, his fingers tracing over the fabric, teasing you.
"Sweet little northern girl," he teased, his voice a low growl. "Are you going to give yourself to me?"
"Yes," you whispered, your cheeks flushed pink.
He kissed you again, his lips rough and demanding, his hand pushing your dress down, exposing your breasts. "You've never touched yourself before, have you?”
"No, my Prince," you whispered, your little hands curled into his chest, your nails digging into his skin.
"That's alright, I'll show you how it's done."
His hands slid down to your thighs, his fingers trailing up, his touch light and teasing. You let out a gasp as his fingers brushed over your cunt, touching a spot that made your body tremble.
"This little spot right here," he said, rubbing his thumb against it, "is the most sensitive part of your body. The more pressure, the better."
You nodded, gasping and moaning as he pressed his thumb against it, circling it. You could feel the heat rising within you, the pleasure building.
"Feels good doesn't it?" He whispered, his voice husky, his lips brushing against your ear.
"Y-yes," you stuttered, your hips moving, grinding against his hand.
He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine.
"Do you like being my little whore, hmm?" He asked, his lips trailing down your neck, his kisses hot and wet.
"N-no," you moaned, pushing him back, trying to fight against him.
He laughed, his teeth nipping at your collarbone. "Liar," he whispered, his tongue licking over the marks he'd made.
His hands reaching down to his waist, undoing his breeches and pulling them off, his cock springing free. You gasped, your eyes wide as you took in the size of him.
He took your hand and placed it on his cock, his eyes burning into yours. "Go on, feel it," he whispered.
Your fingers curled around his cock, your small hand barely able to fit around him. You moved your hand, sliding it down the length of his shaft, his cock thick and pulsing in your hand. His skin was so warm and smooth, his breathing deepening as you began to move your hand up and down, stroking him slowly.
You could see the scars from battle stretched across his chest and torso. Small claw-like marks around his pectoral and a deep line that stretched down the left side of his rib cage. He was a hardened warrior, and you could tell by his scars, he had been through much to get where he was now.
You squeezed his cock, moving your hand up and down, his breathing deepening and his eyes growing hazy. He watched you, his gaze following every movement you made. You were starting to get more comfortable, taking pleasure in watching him, in making him feel good. You found the nerve to press the pad of your thumb against the tip, feeling the moisture leaking from him.
"Good girl," he praised, his voice low and husky.
You felt a wave of pride, knowing that you were pleasing him, that he liked the way you were touching him. You continued to stroke him, squeezing and pulling at his cock, watching his face, seeing the pleasure on his features.
He groaned, his eyes closing and his head tilting back, his breath catching. You could feel his cock throbbing in your hand, and you knew that he was getting close.
He let out a low growl and grabbed your wrist, halting your movements. "If you keep that up, I'm going to spill my seed all over this pretty little dress of yours," he said, his eyes full of heat.
"Is that so, my lord?" You asked, unable to hide the hint of amusement in your voice.
He grabbed your hips and pulled you under him, his body caging you, trapping you beneath him. He was breathing hard, his face flushed, his cock hard and resting on your stomach. His eyes burned into yours, his gaze intense, his hands gripping your hips, holding you steady.
You weren't talking back anymore, he could see the fear in your eyes, the hesitance, and that only made him want you more. His hand went to your throat, applying gentle pressure, a silent warning.
He could feel you trembling beneath him, and he tightened his grip, a primal, possessive urge rising within him. Your small hands pushing into his chest, clutching at his heated flesh.
"Open for me," he growled, his eyes fixed on yours.
You parted your thighs, allowing him to press closer to you. He growled, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his waist, his cock brushing against your cunt. He felt you tighten, your eyes widening with trepidation.
He chuckled, loving how terrified and eager you were at the same time. He gave you a moment, and then he slowly pushed into you. You whimpered, your nails digging into his back, your eyes closed, your face twisted in pain.
"Breathe," he said, rubbing his thumb against your cheek, "it will hurt for a just moment and then I will make you feel good,"
You nodded, taking a deep breath as you felt his cock hit your maidenhead.
"Are you ready, little northerner?" He whispered.
You gripped his forearms and nodded.
He pushed in slowly, breaking through your barrier. You cried out, the pain was intense and immediate. He groaned, the feel of your tight cunt was intoxicating.
He stayed still, giving you time to adjust. Your nails dug into his arms, leaving deep scratches in his flesh.
"Such a pretty, tight little cunt," he growled, nipping at your neck.
You kept your eyes closed, trying to focus on his words and not the pain. He began to move with slow, deep strokes, his cock stretching you, filling you. He was bigger than he felt in your hands, and you swore you could feel him everywhere.
He moaned, his hips rocking into you, his hand still on your throat, making you feel lightheaded. You looked up at him with wide eyes, your lips parted, your cheeks flushed. You felt so full of him, stretched open, the pain and pleasure mixing into one.
He watched your reaction with a smirk, amused by your shocked, satisfied expression. He was moving slowly, enjoying your warmth and the feel of your cunt clenching around him. He knew you were enjoying it, too, your eyes half-closed, a soft moan escaping your lip. Your small frame was arched to his body, your hands holding on to his neck.
You were surprised at his gentleness. You'd heard that the dragon prince liked to rough up women, but he was being as careful as if you were made of spun sugar. You felt so small and helpless underneath him, his large body nearly engulfing yours, and yet he wasn't hurting you. His touch was delicate, reverent. The way he spoke to you, calling you pet names, made your heart skip a beat.
You arched against him, a soft cry leaving your lips as his strokes got faster, deeper, hitting a place inside you that sent a sharp, hot pleasure through you.
"Does my little northerner like her prince's cock?" He said, a laugh in his voice, he began to pick up the pace, pounding into you.
You squeaked and pushed on his chest, the sensations becoming too much. He grabbed your hips and held you still, fucking you hard and fast, his eyes full of fire.
You felt your release rising up inside you, the tension in your body winding tighter and tighter. You could feel yourself clamping down on his cock, the pleasure almost too much, the sweet pain sending you over the edge.
He groaned at the sight of you coming undone, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you shattered around him. He could feel the tension in your muscles as your climax tore through you. He slowed his movements, easing out the last waves of pleasure, drawing it out until you were a shuddering, moaning mess.
He was close behind, his thrusts erratic, his breathing harsh. He pulled out and spilled his seed across your stomach, his hips bucking. He pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, a contented sigh leaving his lips. At least he had one victory today.
Your face was hot with shame, your mind unable to comprehend what just happened. The prince's seed was cooling on your stomach and chest, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. Your hands went to your face, covering it as tears came to your eyes, you had never felt so good and so embarrassed at once.
He moved off of you, his eyes locked on yours, a smirk crossing his lips. He looked satisfied, his gaze wandering over your body, lingering on the wetness between your legs, the mess he'd made of you. He tossed you a cloth to clean yourself with. You wiped his seed off your skin, watching him dress, his blonde hair still braided back, his purple eyes full of lust and desire. He was a warrior, a dragon, he was beauty and strength, power and masculinity. He was everything you wanted and feared, a beast who could destroy you.
He gave you a side glance, his eyes full of amusement. "You may go," he said, shooing you away with a hand.
Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, as you took a shaky breath. You stood up, gathering the pieces of your dress and your underclothes. Your legs were wobbly, and you felt weak, sore, and full of shame.
"Yes, my prince," you said quietly, looking at the floor, unable to meet his eyes.
He chuckled, the sound of his voice making you shiver. "Don't be so timid, little northerner. This is the beginning, not the end," he said, his words sending a jolt of fear and excitement through you.
He was right, this was only the beginning. You were his servant, and he could do with you as he pleased. He would have you come to him whenever he chose, on the warmest summer nights and the coldest winter days. He would take what he wanted, when he wanted.
He was a dragon, and his will was as strong as his blood.
And deep down, you knew you would enjoy it. He was the perfect thing to distract you from the mundanity of your life, the endless monotony of serving others.
Perhaps the Red Keep wouldn't be so terrible, not if it meant serving him.
#house of the dragon#hotd#prince daemon targaryen#daemon targaryen#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon targaryen imagine#daemon targaryen smut#daemon targaryen x you#daemon targaryen fanfic#hotd fanfic#hotd smut#hotd x y/n#hotd x reader#hotd x you#hotd fic#hotd imagine#daemon x y/n#daemon x you#daemon x reader#daemon smut#hotd daemon#house of the dragon smut#house of the dragon fic#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon x reader#hotd fanfiction#a song of ice and fire#asoiaf#fanfiction
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Hiiiiiiii. Could you do a Salesman fic?
I would love to see one where his usual calm and powerful energy is lost around the reader, as he's just enamoured with her. Like no shame, he is down bad and the reader is just flustered and lowkey confused cause they haven't known each other for long.
Idk if this makes any sense to you (up to you if you make it smut i don't really mind)
Teach Ddakji to me
The Salesman x American!Reader
Summary: You play Ddakji with a man at a subway station, but the game brings you two much closer than either of you were prepared to.
A/N: I'm not sure how well i was able to follow the request of how he behaves around the reader but this is what i got ;-; hope you still like 🫶🏻 (i'm so deep in love with this psycho i've been giggling during every other paragraph)
Part 2
♡♡
You rushed down the stairs in the subway station, only one minute until your train was going to leave. You weren't going to make it, but you had to try.
The doors were closing right in front of you and you wanted to scream and let out several different curses, but you didn't want to draw attention on yourself. Your day at the college lectures had just ended and all you wanted to do was to get home, have a dinner and rest.
You heard noise behind a corner, as if someone was slamming something on the floor. You went to see what was going on out of curiosity.
Two men were standing there, the other one tall and dressed in a grey suit, the other one a lot shorter and dressed in a simple hoodie and loose jeans, a worn out cap covering his messy black hair. Suddenly, the man in the suit slapped the other so hard on the face that the man's head turned to the right.
They slammed blue and red squares on top of each other over and over again, and it ended in the man in the suit slapping the other almost every time. Once in a while he handed to the man what looked like a bill of money. You had never seen anything like that happen anywhere and were confused.
You got a notification on your phone, a text message from your classmate.
"Join us for studying and then a dinner? A new restaurant opened nearby, we'll go and try it tonight," she messaged.
"Another day, i don't feel like going out tonight," you replied, getting a thumbs up emoji as a respond.
You put your phone in your pocket and turned around, almost having a heart attack and jumping a step back when you saw the man in the suit standing mere inches away from you, looking down at you with a slight smirk.
"Enjoyed the show, i hope?" he asked and your eyes widened. Fuck, he had noticed you stalking the two of them.
"Yea, um, sure," you said awkwardly. "Though i didn't know what it was, really."
Seeing his face now closer and him staring at you with his dark eyes made your heart beating faster and it wasn't only because of him scaring you for appearing out of nowhere. He was extremely handsome and the way he looked at you made you blush.
"You haven't heard of Ddakji?" he asked, but didn't seem surprised since he figured you weren't local by the looks of you. "It's a Korean game, want me to show you?"
"Sure," you said, nothing else to do than wait anyway. The man took the squares in his hands and offered you to choose one. You took the red one.
He explained the rules to you, it was simple. You only had to hit your square on the blue one and make it turn around, the upper side facing the floor.
It sounded simple but you were hesitant if you were actually able to do it. You threw it on the floor, aiming at the blue square, but it didn't move even an inch in any direction. You let out a frustrated groan.
"It's okay, very few people succeed on their first try," he said in a comforting tone and took a step closer to you, standing right in front of you. "But do you know what losing means to you, hm?"
You had a very good guess after seeing him and the other man play just a while ago.
"You're gonna slap me?" you asked with a grimace.
He smiled. Without a word, you felt a painful sting on your left cheek when he slapped you, not going any easier on you just because you were a woman.
"Jesus Christ!" you gasped and held your hand on your cheek which was definitely going to have a red mark later. You had never been slapped on your face and it hurt more than you thought it would hurt.
"My turn then," he said and grabbed his blue square from the floor. He slammed it on top of your red square and it immediately jumped in the air and landed on its other side on the floor.
He looked at you with the same smirk again.
"So what happens when you win?" you asked, crossing your arms. If you continued this game much longer, your face would be completely covered in bruises and you'd have a lot of explaining to do to your classmates.
"I get to use your body again," he said with a confident tone.
You closed your eyes and prepared for another slap, hoping that it would be the other one this time because your left cheek still hurt. When you felt a touch on your left cheek, you automatically winced a little bit.
But it wasn't a slap, it was a tender kiss. You opened your eyes when he had already leaned away and you saw a glimpse of kindness in his eyes this time. You felt your cheeks warming up and tried to avoid eye contact for a moment.
"Your turn," he said.
Your hand was shaking when you lifted the red square from the floor. You wanted to succeed, you had never been good at losing in anything, it was always about to start to piss you off if you didn't start winning too.
"Do you want me to help you?" he asked. You looked at him and soon he was right behind you, keeping an eye contact with you when he put his left hand on your waist and his right one to hold your hand which was holding the square. "Is this okay?"
He didn't put too much pressure on holding you, making sure that you gave him a permission for that. You suddenly couldn't get words out of your mouth, so you just nodded and swallowed the lump in your throat. He held you tighter now and instructed how it was supposed to be done. You had to have more force when you would slam the square down.
"Spread your legs a little bit," he whispered.
"What?" you gasped in shock.
"To get a better and more firm position when you throw it," he explained, his breath hot in your ear.
"Oh," you said, cheeks burning even more. You hadn't realized you were standing almost like a stick. He guided your hand up in the air in a correct position.
"Remember to let go of it at the correct moment, i'm going to aim it for you, okay?" he said and you nodded, now much more nervous than you would have been if you did this alone.
With this help, the blue square flew into the air and landed on its other side easily. You were excited of the victory, even though it was for his help, and a wide smile spread on your face.
To be honest, for a second you wished you would have failed on purpose, just to get his hands on you again - you didn't even care if it was a slap, kiss or something else.
He let go of you and you turned around to face him, already missing his touch.
"There you go," he said with a proud expression on his face. "Now, you can choose what to do to me."
You didn't hesitate for even a second longer, you immediately slapped him on his left cheek as hard as you could. However, you knew you didn't have as much as strength in your body as he did, so the slap must have stinged a lot less. His head didn't move even an inch and he only smiled.
Right then, the train you had been waiting for arrived and you took your bag from the ground. You weren't going to miss this train just because of wanting to have another round of Ddakji with this stranger.
He offered you money, worth of 100 dollars, and put them in your hand, closing your fist around the bill. You were about to refuse but he wasn't having it.
"Treat yourself a nice dinner tonight," he said. When you didn't answer, he nodded towards the train which was about to leave soon, with or without you.
"Thank you," you said. "Um, bye."
You made it into the train just in time and when you looked back at the spot where that man had just been, he was already gone.
♡♡
The salesman didn't want you to leave. He was absolutely mesmerized by you, you were the most gorgeous woman he had ever laid eyes on. Your perfume and the smell of your shampoo still lingered in his nose, even after you weren't there anymore.
He would have wanted to ask you to stay, but he couldn't find the correct words and you were in a hurry to catch your train.
He hadn't felt like this of a woman in a long time and he wanted to find you again. To hold you again.
He didn't understand how you could have made this big of an impact on him in only under 10 minutes, but all he knew was that he needed to get to know you better.
♡♡
The next day, you arrived to the class and sat next to your friend.
"Oh my god, what happened to your face?" she gasped in shock.
Yes, there was a visible red mark on your cheek and you didn't have anything at home to cover it. You didn't really use any makeup either except mascara.
"Oh um," you started, trying to find some excuse. "It's my allergies and acne." You didn't have any allergies and hadn't had acne since you were 15. But you couldn't tell her the truth, atleast now that you didn't have time to talk much since the class was about to start.
And what were you going to say to her? A stranger in the subway station slapped you and you enjoyed it?
The teacher arrived and the noise of the door slamming closed interrupted your friend who was about to say something to interview you further.
♡♡
You walked down the subway station stairs again on your way home, just like yesterday. You had your headphones on, listening to random metal songs on Spotify and were texting your mum who catched up with you twice a week how you were doing. You were supposed to have a video call later today but she apparently had to work extra tonight, she was a nurse.
When you had reached the bottom of the stairs, you bumped into something and almost tripped back but managed to keep your balance. You looked up and saw the same man in the suit as yesterday, staring down at you with a smile.
"Hello," he greeted, not moving anywhere.
"Hello," you repeated and lifted your eyebrows, taking of your headphones. "What are you doing here?"
"Waiting for you," he said without thinking.
"Me? Why? How did you know i would be here?"
"I didn't. I only figured you might have the same daily routine and took a chance," he explained.
"Why did you want to see me?" you asked, confused but feeling butterflies in your stomach.
"I didn't have a chance to ask for your phone number yesterday," he said. "And i'd like to take you out."
"Take me out you mean murder or dinner?"
"The second option. I already finished the first task earlier," he said with a smile. Handsome and with a sense of humor.
"Fine, where did you plan to take me?"
"Anywhere you want. Are you hungry?"
"You don't even know my name," you pointed out.
"You can tell me your name and all about you on our date," he smiled.
"Aren't you straightforward," you chuckled. "Are you going to teach me Ddakji again?"
"If you wish so," he said.
You bit your lip, not sure if you should go somewhere with this stranger or not. You hadn't been asked for a dinner at a subway station before, though, so you could write it on your bucketlist and cross it out.
"Okay."
♡♡
He had taken you to a lovely dinner to enjoy local foods you had never eaten before. You rarely tried any new foods, always sticking on the ones you already knew you'd like, but now you had tried something different and loved it.
Now, you were in a park, nobody else in sight. It was already dark and you knew you had to go home soon if you wanted to get enough sleep.
You held the red square in your hand once again and aimed for slamming the blue around finally on your own.
Again, you weren't able to hit it. But you hadn't even tried properly and weren't mad about it.
"Damn it," you mumbled.
"You'll get there," he smirked, stepping closer to you.
He lifted your chin with his finger.
"Close your eyes."
You did as told and waited for the worst option, squeezing your eyes shut tightly.
You felt his lips press on yours, taking you into a slow kiss. He broke the kiss but didn't let go of your chin
"Do i have to play another round of Ddakji to do that again?"
You smiled and stepped on your tiptoes to reach him better, cupped his face and pulled him in a proper, deeper kiss. He instantly wrapped his arms around your waist to press your body against him tighter.
"Just so you know, i don't sleep with men on our first date," you said when the kiss was over, his hands wandering around your back they had almost reached your ass.
He moved his left hand to the back of your neck, keeping the right one on your lower back. He pushed his fingers through your hair, softly massaging your scalp.
"What is it about you that makes me so drawn to you?" he whispered, and you didn't know if the question was for you or just for himself. "Only two days and you've managed to make me absolutely addicted to you."
He pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, and you felt blush creeping on its way to your cheeks.
He eventually walked you back home like a gentleman, not allowing you to walk anywhere at this hour. He had to make sure you got back home safely.
"Will i see you again tomorrow?" he asked before you managed to leave, gently holding your wrist.
"I have to study, i've fallen behind in couple of courses so i need to catch up," you said and his face fell a little bit. Surely he had other things to do in his life besides seeing you. "Are you free this weekend?"
His face lighted up again for your suggestion.
"For you, of course," he said and brought your hand towards his face, planting a kiss on your knuckles. "Goodnight, Y/N."
You went inside your apartment and silently closed the door, trying to do everything as quietly as you could, but then the lights were turned on.
"Okay who the HELL is that man, Y/N?!" your roommate shouted at you, making you jump and almost have a heart attack. It was so late you thought she was already sleeping, she was the type to be in bed by 8pm and asleep by 9pm.
"Um, well I-"
"That is the most gorgeous man i've ever seen," she said, still speaking loudly, and stepped closer to you and pointed you with her finger. "How couldn't you tell me you were dating a new man?"
"Well i only met him a while ago," you admitted.
"Still?!" she shouted. "You know i like boy talk and you never talk about your dating life! Oh my god, have you finally downloaded Tinder or something?"
"Ew, no," you shook your head.
"You're right, there's no way men THAT hot would still be on Tinder and not married," she said and then gasped. "Girl, he's not married, is he?"
"I sure hope he's not," you said and for a moment you were afraid he might be married. I mean, how could he still be single? Your friend always talked so much that you started to doubt everything you previously knew.
"Wait a minute, i'll get us some popcorn and then you're gonna spill everything," she said and without another word, she was already in the kitchen.
And you did tell her everything because my god you needed to talk to someone about him.
♡♡
A few days and several text conversations later, you were in his hotel room, and he pressed you against the wall, his right hand leaning on the wall right by your head.
He lifted your head by his forefinger on your chin to make you look straight into your eyes.
"How long are you going to stay in Korea?" he asked.
"What, are you going to ask me to move in with you or something? Plan a summer wedding?" you joked.
"If you want to," he said with a serious face and you truly wasn't sure if he was serious or joking. You hadn't yet found a difference between the two.
"Wait what?"
You hadn't dated any Korean men before so you weren't sure how fast they progressed in the dating life. Would it be normal to propose on the first week or ask to move in? Surely not.
He smiled. "I only ask because i don't want to have you only for a short while," he said and let his fingers wander around your shoulder, sending goosebumps all over your body.
"Well, i'll be here for atleast another 5 months," you told him and then pouted. "So, no summer wedding?"
"I'd have to buy a ring first," he smirked.
"It better be a real diamond too then," you chuckled, having seen the stacks of money he had carried with him, and pulled him into another kiss.
He was soon kissing your neck, leaving a mark on your skin, until your stomach growled and interrupted him.
"When was the last time you ate?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows. "I thought you had eaten before you came here."
"Well, it's been a while i suppose," you said, not really remembering anymore when the last time was.
He stepped away from you and pulled out his phone.
"What are you doing?"
"We're ordering food," he said. "What would you like to eat?"
He ordered Chinese food for you and ate it on the bed while watching some brainless comedy movie.
When the movie had ended, he went to the bathroom, leaving you to lay on the bed and making you to fall in your thoughts alone.
You had been in a relationship twice in your life, and in neither of them your relationship had moved on this fast. I mean, you weren't in an official relationship, you had been just barely hooking up, but the way he talked about you only knowing you for a few days wasn't something you had been used to at all.
In the U.S., it took guys several weeks to make any progress in relationships, atleast what you had seen and gone through.
Maybe you should slow down a little, take a step back and see what he really wants from you.
By the time he came back from the bathroom, you had fallen asleep. You looked so peaceful in your sleep, so beautiful even with your messy hair all over the pillow.
He came closer to you and pulled a blanket over you, the edge almost reaching your jaw. You stirred in your sleep, turning to lay on your side, but didn't show any signs of waking up.
He laid himself on the bed next to you and just looked at your sleeping figure for several minutes. He was afraid of getting attached to a woman so fast, in so little time, but he couldn't help it.
To him you were perfect, and he wanted to know everything about you that there was to know.
♡♡
A/N: If you want a part 2, please leave any requests you might have, i'm not sure where to go with this 🫶🏻❤️💙
#the salesman x reader#the salesman#the salesman imagine#the recruiter x reader#the recruiter imagine#squid game imagine#squid game x reader
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𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄
pairing. kinich x fem!reader
word count. 2.1k
genre/warnings. princess!reader, knight!kinich, slight enemies to lovers (not really, they just argue but idk the term for that tbh LOL), pixelprincess!au
summary.
ever since he became your personal guard, you've found kinich to be a royal pain in your ass. you've always assumed he felt the same, until the night of your matching ball. now, you're not sure what this burning in your chest means after all.
author's note. this is a drabble as part of a universe that i'm calling pixelprincess (knight!kinich x princess!reader). i don't really have a full fic planned for this or anything, i just have a bunch of small headcanons about them and i love aus so feel free to scream about them with me HAHA. thank you for reading! reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!
𝐩𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐚𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
If there’s one thing you can definitively say about Kinich, it’s that he’s not stupid.
Honestly, you could say a lot of things. You’ve heard the rumors just like everyone else, about the fearsome Captain of the Guard who passed training within a single day. They whisper that he holds a dragon’s power in his heart, a fact that strikes fear into any nation that dares encroach upon your territory. His reputation precedes him, and he’s somewhat of a mystery to the general public—most of them envision him as a hero, the key to the nation’s defense.
If there’s another thing you can definitively say about Kinich, it’s that sometimes, you wish he was stupid.
The castle always feels larger during the summer, when the sunlight bathes the interior with gold and the halls bustle with movement during the day. Guards and aides rush in every direction, though none of them seem to spare a glance in your direction; there’s simply far too much to pay attention to today.
The maids are replacing the vases with fresh flora, Brilliant Chrysanthemums and Saurian Claw Succulents that make the room seem brighter, discussing which configuration looks the best. You know them all, of course; growing up within the castle meant that these women had practically raised you. Even as an adult, it’s hard to escape them when they feel like pinching your cheeks and reminiscing on old times.
Sensing the coast is clear, you crack the door open another millimeter, carefully slipping into the hall and blending in with the crowd. The maids, luckily, don’t notice, still fussing over petals and stems. You’d calculated this time exactly—right now, the guard patrol should be across the castle, checking the entrances before the ball tonight. If your information wasn’t wrong, then you should have just enough time to make it to the servants’ passages, and then out to the garden—
“Oh?”
The familiar voice makes you murmur some choice curse words under your breath. Of course, the dark-haired man in front of you is always several steps ahead of everyone. He’s leaning against the stone wall, looking entirely too pleased with himself, as if he knows something you don’t.
“Princess,” Kinich greets, bowing his head despite how you wave him off—you’ve never been one for formalities. “What are you doing here?”
“Just taking a walk.”
You move at a brisk pace past him, but Kinich is faster—he always is, the annoying bastard. Before you can turn the corner, there’s the blade of a greatsword blocking your path. No matter how much you see it, you’re always surprised by the size of the damn thing—you’re shocked he can even lift it as it is. A half-smirk rests on his lips when you gasp.
“Taking a walk away from your lessons? I do believe your teacher’s room is in the opposite direction.”
The annoying thing about Kinich is that he truly knows everything, including your schedules. He’s thorough to a near fault, though you suppose that that’s exactly the kind of person who would be fit for Captain of the Guard. Still, you duck under his sword, unwilling to make eye contact.
“Lessons are tomorrow. I have other plans today.”
Kinich falls into step beside you, and the halls are suddenly clear of people—the crowd parts before you, a stubborn rock among a rushing river. You’re unsure if it’s due to your status, or due to your temper—it’s a well-known fact in the castle that Kinich can get you wound up quite quickly.
“And what might these other plans be?”
He always has too many damn questions, you think. Silently, you curse your father for assigning him to you. A series of attempts on your life last year had made him paranoid, and he’d been quick to promote the strongest knight as your personal guard. Back then, you’d been fooled just like everyone else into thinking that Kinich was some kind of serious, straight-laced hero. Instead, you’d since discovered that he was seriously annoying.
“Can I guess?” he asks, deftly dodging past the maids carrying bundles of tablecloths and the waiters carrying sky-high stacks of platters.
“No, you can’t. In fact, you can’t even ask. I should have you executed for that.”
Kinich raises a brow, amused. “The Queen would never let that happen.”
And, unfortunately, he’s correct. Your mother absolutely adores Kinich as if he were her own son, and it irritates you to no end—especially when she heavy-handedly suggests that you make him your groom. The door to the back stairwell falls into view, so you break into a jog as you reach the end of the hall, but he’s right on your heel.
If I can just make it to the stairs…
Kinich steps in front of you again, not allowing you an inch further, and you nearly scream in frustration.
“If I didn’t know any better—”
You scoff. “And you, in fact, don’t know anything—”
“—I would say that you’re trying to avoid going to the ball.”
And, once again, you wish that just once Kinich would let something fly over his head.
Utterly defeated, you collapse into one of the plush chairs nearby, fanning your face. Kinich stands over you, a bit tense, as if he thinks you’re going to try to run again. You won’t; at this point, you’re too tired.
“So what if I am?” you finally admit. “You always complain about them anyway. I find it a little unfair that you’re allowed to and I’m not.”
As great as he is at his job as a guard, Kinich isn’t so great at facing the public, despite how popular he is among them (particularly the women). Whenever he can, he avoids social events like the plague, often volunteering to run perimeter duty as a precaution rather than attending with you. You, unfortunately, don’t have that luxury.
Kinich sighs, resting his weight on his sword. “I don’t complain, it’s just annoying when everyone is so loud and—”
You snap your fingers, interrupting and pointing at him accusingly. “You hear that? What you were just doing? That’s called complaining.”
Realizing he was caught in the act, Kinich rolls his eyes. “How very profound of you. If you put that much effort into your escape routes, maybe you would’ve made it this time.”
Your gaze narrows. “How about I stick a profound fist up your a—”
“Kinich? Is that you?”
The booming voice makes you both straighten up instantly. Kinich smoothly sheaths his sword, saluting to the king as he makes his way down the hall. You’re far less graceful about it, gathering up your skirts messily and quickly curtseying to your father.
“Your Highness,” you both echo.
If your father notices the tension between the two of you, he doesn’t say so; he looks as jolly as always, even more so because of the event today. He’s the social type, a trait you unfortunately did not inherit.
“Just the two people I was hoping to see,” he laughs, a full-bodied sound that booms from his chest. “I’m glad that the two of you get along so well.”
To your irritation, Kinich smirks, while you offer your father a thin-lipped smile.
“Of course,” you lie, sneakily jabbing your guard in the ribs. He coughs. “We get along like a house on fire.”
“That’s good,” your father says, nodding encouragingly. “You’ll both do well later tonight then.”
Your heart drops at the thought of attending the event. You know how long your parents have been planning this, and how long they’ve been practically begging you to find a companion. It’s all a long-winded scheme to find you a princely partner, and not one that you particularly appreciate—a great majority of the princes you’ve met are far too full of themselves. You truly have no interest in any of them.
Kinich, however, pointedly clears his throat at your father’s wording.
“Both of us?” he asks, enunciating slowly. “I’m not sure I follow, sir.”
You perk up in interest—that detail had been lost on you.
“I invited several princes from neighboring nations today,” your father says, eyeing you with a pitying stare. You try not to feel offended. “I want my daughter to find someone suitable for her, no matter who that may be. Still, I was hoping you could attend with her this time? I know it’s not your favorite, but I would feel uncomfortable with her being around so many strangers alone.”
Kinich’s smirk falters, and he suddenly falls still. You wonder if he’s irritated by the prospect of attending the ball at your side.
(Distantly, you wonder why the thought of that makes you feel a bit ill.)
The silence grows awkward, and you rock on your heels, searching for something to say. Your guard looks a bit lost for words, likely because he wasn’t prepared for so much social interaction today. You can’t really blame him—if you were in his shoes, you wouldn’t be thrilled either.
“Actually, Your Highness, that won’t be necessary.”
Your eyes nearly pop out of your skull at Kinich’s reply, but you hurry to control your expression, unwilling to give anything away to your father. The king raises a brow.
“And why is that?” he asks.
Kinich gnaws on his lip, an action that is wholly unlike him—you don’t think you’ve ever seen him appear nervous about anything in his life. Still, he meets your father’s gaze head on, coughs once, then says:
“The princess isn’t feeling well. I think it’d be best if she didn’t attend the ball today.”
He nudges your foot just as your father’s gaze drifts to you, and you thank your lucky stars that you did inherit your mother’s dramatics. You throw a hand over your forehead, fanning yourself aggressively.
“Since this morning,” you explain, looking as pitiful as possible, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Thank the archons Kinich was here, otherwise I might’ve fainted earlier.”
And you really do feel guilty when your father’s eyes well up with tears of worry.
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” he cries, then turns to one of his aides in a panic. “Call the doctor! Have him attend to her immediately. And announce that she’ll be absent from our festivities tonight.”
You force yourself to hide your smile at his announcement. Your eyes flicker over to Kinich, but for once, he doesn’t seem the slightest bit amused—in fact, he still looks troubled. Your father fusses over you for a bit longer, asking a series of questions about what you’d eaten and who you’d been in contact with. You answer as honestly as you can—the least you can do—and then he directs Kinich to escort you back to your room.
The hallway seems to empty out quickly after that display, and then it’s just you and your guard. For some reason, he seems to avoid your eyes. He doesn’t speak, merely offering you his arm, and after a moment, you take it.
“So, what changed your mind?” you ask, unwilling to let him sit in silence. He looks displeased by your question, but answers anyway.
“Nothing,” he says, expression blank, “I just didn’t think you should go to the ball tonight.”
The tips of his ears are flushed red, you note. Liar.
Still, Kinich keeps countless secrets that you’re sure you’ll never know, and you suppose it doesn’t really matter why he decided to let you off the hook tonight. Really, you’re just grateful you’ll get to sleep peacefully with no stinking princes breathing down your neck. The thought makes you smile as you finally reach your bedroom door.
“Well, what a shame it is,” you sigh sarcastically, turning the knob, “I could’ve been dancing the night away with the love of my life. Now I might never meet him.”
The corner of Kinich’s lip twitches.
“As if,” he replies gruffly, a touch too fast. “You wouldn’t like any of them anyway. They’re not nearly capable of handling you.”
Your eyes narrow, irritated by the implication. “And you are?”
He raises a brow in response. “Aren’t I?”
It comes out uncharacteristically soft. A switch seems to flip in the room, and you suddenly start feeling sick for real—it’s too hot, too quiet. Kinich’s stare weighs on you heavily, and you get lost in the depth of it. You freeze where you are, bedroom door half-open, and you can almost pick out the meaning in his words when he turns away, clearing his throat.
“Goodnight, princess,” he murmurs over his shoulder. “Sweet dreams, and…get well soon.”
He makes his exit without another word, and you wonder if he’s still working tonight. Is he still going to guard the ball? The perimeter? What if one of the other princesses takes a liking to him—
You huff, deciding you don’t care and slamming the door shut. The ball is bound to be a drag, and you find Kinich annoying, you think as you fall into bed. You’re happy about this arrangement. Overjoyed, even.
Yes, you find Kinich very annoying.
…Don’t you?
#genshin impact x reader#kinich x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact fluff#kinich x you#kinich#genshin impact#adeptus ink#pixelprincess!au
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soft yandere!genin!sasuke uchiha x reader hcs
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TITLE: " BAD ROMANCE " — navi. — read part two.
A/N: i'm clearing out my drafts ,, was in a huge naruto phase when i started this blog!
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☆ genin sasuke is pretty mean. he doesn't notice you for your looks, personality, or even your prowess as a young kunoichi. you're just... you. in which, you don't cling to him like sakura does, and you aren't delusional like ino is. you're just okay at first, and there's not much he can go off of when he never really interacts with you. it's nothing personal, really.
☆ although sasuke is typically not a stranger to the prospect of romance, the reason why he doesn't indulge is simply because he fails to understand what romance is. if sasuke is anything, he's aware; of his surroundings, the people in it, and the turmoil that churns inside of him. the more he loves, the more he'll eventually hate, so he gathers that there's no room for it in his life. it's his curse to bear.
☆ genin sasuke would eventually notice you after being placed on team seven together, of course. you're pretty hard to ignore from thereon. in between the bouts of sakura clobbering him and naruto screaming in his face, his eyes are on you. both naruto and sakura wear the extent of their capabilities on their sleeves, but you're hard to read and that intrigues sasuke.
☆ it's not until much later that sasuke notices his feelings for you are much different than before. after all the trouble you've been through together (near death experiences & the dreadful antics of naruto), he feels like he's finally got a foothold on what it is that makes you so interesting. he's not a moron—yes, it would appear that he does like you beyond the "like" that he holds for the rest of team seven. however, it's such a foreign feeling that he's not even sure how to handle it, being that he's never had to deal with it before. does he tell you? does he not? would you even feel the same?
☆ in the end, sasuke shows his fondness for you in more subtle ways. it's not really his style to outright confess. sometimes he'll ask you to spar with him (alone, which he stresses), or he'll happen to have a "spare" tomato (or onigiri, if you don't like tomatoes) on him when you complain about being hungry during missions. if you get ambushed by rogue ninja on a mission, he'll instinctively step in front of you, or if you're out of kunai he'll lend you a couple of his—things like that. he's quite thoughtful when he wants to be.
☆ even under sasuke's merciful tolerance of you, you're not off-limits when it comes to his biting insults and sarcastic comments. normally he doesn't speak much but with you he becomes rather talkative, if you can even call it that. when someone else tries to butt in, sasuke's brooding and murderous glares scare them away. they should really know better than to talk to you when he's around.
☆ sakura obviously hates that you've suddenly become the apple of sasuke's eye when she's been vying after him since their early days at the academy. you're not even that pretty, honestly. but any attempt to sabotage you or make you look like a fool in front of sasuke is thwarted... by sasuke. he always thought of sakura like a whining gnat in his ear so it's amusing to see her cry when he blatantly ignores her for messing with you.
☆ when sasuke leaves the village, you're the first person he visits beforehand. you're asleep but that's just fine; actually, it's perfect because you don't see how he gently caresses your hair and how he gives you a kiss on your forehead. you don't hear him when he finally admits that he likes you. loves you, even. you don't hear him when he says he wishes he could take you with him.
☆ but don't worry, he'll be back for you...
#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere naruto#yandere sasuke x reader#yandere sasuke uchiha#yandere sasuke uchiha x reader#yandere naruto x reader#uchiha x reader#sasuke x reader#yandere sasuke hcs#naruto headcanons#sasuke uchiha#genin sasuke x reader#yandere genin sasuke#yandere uchiha
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Fromis App Part 16: Deserved Better - Fromis_9 Chaeyoung
You're cuddling Saerom in bed while she's on her phone, and you hear her sigh against you.
"What's wrong?"
"Chaeng needs more funding, there's less kids now, so the daycare needs additional budget to stay afloat."
"Chaeng? Who's that? You have a daycare?"
"Chaeyoung, you met her, at the... discipline session? You've been in and out of our office so often. And yes we offer a daycare for our employees if they need them. We charge a small but cheap fee, so it's usually a little under break even, but recently there's fewer kids, so she needs more funding from us."
"Huh, I didn't know that. Chaeyoung's the tall one right?" Saerom nods. "I didn't know she ran the daycare."
"She really likes being around kids, so when the previous nanny left we offered her the role."
"I see, how come I haven't seen her around the office?"
"The daycare's in a different part of the building, gotta keep the noisy kids away from the offices. You can go see her if you want!"
A few days later with Saerom's instructions on your phone you enter the Fromis building but take a left, down a hallway you've never gone to before. As you reach close to the end of the hallway you hear childish giggling, the hallway walls going from office standard drab grey to child-friendly yellow and blue.
"Everybody, what do you say?"
"Thank you Miss Lee, goodbye Miss Lee!" A chorus calls out. You step aside to let the horde of children pass by. Chaeyoung smiles at each of them before finally seeing you.
"Oh, hello! We haven't spoken since umm, that." She blushes, remembering the last time she met you, a whirlwind of sex with some of the other employees involved.
"Yeah, just wanted to say hi. I never saw you at the offices and Saerom just told me why."
"Oh yeah that's true! Well it's just this little space, I can show you around but there's not much to see." You look around at the messy scatter of chairs and papers and crayons and decide on a better idea.
"If you don't have class soon, want to grab a coffee?" She nods and leads you to the closest cafe.
"Thank you..." Chaeyoung smiles and takes a sip from the coffee you brought her.
"You know, I feel like I don't know anything about you."
"Really? I know everything about you though. Seoyeon's very happy with you."
"You mean— She talks to you about, umm, me and her?"
"Not just her, we have a group chat. Just because I'm not in the office doesn't mean I'm not in the know." A small smirk appears on her lips.
"Now I'm curious, you never reached out, or matched with me on the app. I don't think I'm that bad in the bedroom so... boyfriend?"
"The girls assure me you're not, so you don't have to worry about that. And no, not boyfriend." She pauses and takes a sip of her coffee, giving you time to process her words.
"Girlfriend?"
"No, or at least, none that haven't slept with you too. It's all casual between us." You raise an eyebrow but she says nothing more.
"Illness?"
"If you mean STDs, I'm definitely clean. And nothing else that would prevent us— I mean me, from doing it."
"So you are thinking about 'us', hmm." Chaeyoung drinks more of her coffee and doesn't offer more. "Really won't tell me?"
"No, and I assure you it's not for any physical reasons."
"Now I'm really curious. How about we do dinner, my treat?"
"As long as you don't expect anything afterwards." You agree, now more curious than ever—for whatever reason Chaeyoung's being very standoffish, yet she's blushing right now, and she has clearly been thinking about using the FROMIS app for some time with you, yet she hasn't.
"Tonight then?"
"Sure."
Later that evening, Chaeyoung's quietly nibbling on her pasta, seemingly to wait for you to finally broach the question you've avoided thus far.
"So, mind telling me the reason?"
"Sure. The reason I haven't reached out is because I didn't want to take your time away from the others, happy?"
"I... Have no idea what you mean?"
"I see the others having sex with you as a way of making them happy, keeping them stress free. They are more important than me to the company, so it is more important that you're spending time with them than with me."
"That's a very objective look at things."
"I have a stake in the company too, so I have to look at things that way."
"But I think you're taking too short-term a view. Because of the good job you're doing, the parents of the kids you're taking care of, the many employees of the company, they can do their work without worrying about them, they do a better job because of you! So, I think you are just as important as the others." You place a hand over Chaeyoung's, half-seduction and half-earnestness, wanting her to see her own value.
"You have needs too, and they deserve to be... Met." The flush is instantly apparent on her face—god, when was the last time she was touched like that?
"I said not to expect anything afterwards!" Chaeyoung mumbles, withdrawing her hand.
"I'm not. I just don't want you to feel like you're any less important than the others, okay?"
"I... Thanks."
"We won't do anything tonight, but you're my priority, I will block out whatever time you need when you want to." You grab Chaeyoung's hand again, kissing the back of it smoothly—a little cheesy perhaps, but you gather she liked it from the way she pulled away, blushing even harder.
"I umm, thanks. I should go, I have to get in early tomorrow."
"Of course, I'll see you home."
"No it's okay, I'll be fine." Chaeyoung grabs her bag and quickly hurries out. Later that night her legs are spread, hand between her thighs as she muffles her whimpers. Truth be told if you had seen her home, Chaeyoung would not have let you gone home that night. She would have pulled you in and—
"Nngh fuck!" She rubs her clit and moans into her hand. Even just thinking about your last time with her, where you and Seoyeon edged Chaeyoung until she was begging for sweet blackout release, is enough to push her to a much stronger orgasm than her usual self-satisfaction sessions. Her hips buck against her hand, pushing against the imaginary you that should be pressed against her cunt. When she relaxes she looks at her own fingers—they're wetter than they've been recently. All of her talk about letting the others have you just makes her all the more needy the moment you make yourself available. You said that'd you prioritize her over everyone else...
"Ah!" Chaeyoung shudders as she touches herself again, one hand on her chest and another dipping past her flat tummy—is she actually going for a second round? She spreads her legs wider, biting her pillow to keep quiet.
"O-Oppa!" Tonight was going to be a sleepless night for Chaeyoung.
You don't hear from Chaeyoung for a week or so, but you do run into her as she's leading her class of kids back to the classroom.
"Chaeyoung!"
"Oh hey, what are you doing here?"
"Came to pick up Jiwon. You?"
"We just had a field trip to the nearby museum."
"Nice, nice." A little kid tugs on your pant leg.
"Are you Miss Lee's daddy?"
"Uhh what?"
"I have a mommy and a daddy. Are you Miss Lee's daddy?"
"Oh god..." Chaeyoung mutters under her breath. "No no, he's just a friend, like you have friends too, right? Come on, back to the classroom you go, go follow your friends, they're leaving without you!" She ushers the kid back hastily.
"Sorry, they only know mommy and daddy right now. Husband and wife, boyfriend and girlfriend, still a while to go for that."
"No need to be sorry, they're just kids being kids. Good to see you!"
"Mmhmm, bye!"
You're on Jiwon's floor when you receive a message.
*I want you time tonight, please come over after dropping Jiwon off*
You smile at the typo she missed.
*Of course, I'll drop Jiwon off and come right over*
With a bit of cajoling and consoling you promise to make time for Jiwon next time, and she begrudgingly lets you go.
"Are you going there to fuck her? Be honest." she asks bluntly.
"Probably?"
"Good, fuck her hard, I don't think she's swiped on anyone at all, girl needs to properly get off. I'll let Saerom know Chaeyoung's taking tomorrow off, I want you to fuck her until she can't function properly."
"Who takes care of the kids then?"
"Eh, we'll find someone, that's not for you to worry about!" Jiwon pushes you out the door. "Now go before I change my mind and drag you back in here." You listen to Jiwon and bolt.
"Hey, I'm here," you call out, knocking on the door. It swings open to reveal a gorgeous Chaeyoung, dressed in a strapless black dress and stockings.
"Whoa, going somewhere?"
"Ah umm, no, not really. Come in." You sit down in her cozy apartment.
"You seem like you're dressed to go clubbing, do you want me to go with you to one?"
"Ah about that..." There's a metallic twang as she picks at the tab of her can for a moment. "If I asked, would you go to the club with me, dance a little, have a drink or two, and then end up either back here or at your place?"
"You are assuming a lot, but yes, I'm all yours for the night." Chaeyoung scoots closer to you, a dainty hand rubbing down your thigh and to your knee. In the stunning outfit she looked nothing like the pretty and kind teacher that plays with her children you saw just a little earlier. Now she's pressed against you, breath warm on your ear and neck, like a woman that had her needs, and she wanted them met now.
"I was thinking we could save a lot of time and just skip to the fun part."
"I like that, more time for the fun part." You turn to look at Chaeyoung, and her eyes are already shut, lips lightly parted. You should've answered "Definitely" to Jiwon's question earlier, because when you capture Chaeyoung's bottom lip she whines, a "Why haven't you stuck your tongue down my throat" kind of whine. You correct yourself immediately, capturing her lips a second time and pushing your tongue past them, earning yourself a moan, a promise that Chaeyoung's going to do everything she wants to with you tonight.
You cup her face to kiss her more deeply, but she's grabbing your hand and bringing it down to her chest. It's modest but still a fun handful, made even more fun by the reaction you elicit from her, a whimper when you grind your palm into her dress, massaging a breast roughly.
"Mmm, more!" You give Chaeyoung what she wants, switching to the other breast, wrinkling her dress a little more. You tilt her head back with your other hand, opening up the flawless skin of her neck to you. You're unapologetic in your kisses, sucking and leaving marks on her pale skin, marks that would be oblivious to her childish charges, but prompt many questions from their parents.
Chaeyoung moans loudly, your lips no longer there to suppress her moans—she's already overstimulated, the physical connection with you already too much. She clings to the back your head, pushing you harder against her neck. Short as it was, her dress suddenly felt restrictive, the heat between her legs growing by the second.
"G-Go lower!" Her hand guides yours down, but you stop at her hip, grabbing her and swinging her legs across your lap. With her arms around your neck Chaeyoung's looking at you needily, gasping as you run a hand across her flat midriff, pretending to go straight between her legs before bringing it back up to squeeze a breast.
"Nngh no!" She kisses you before begging with a whisper. "Please don't tease me like last time, I can't take it right now."
"I'm not teasing you. I know you want to cum." Chaeyoung shivers at the word "cum", as if just saying the word has an effect on her. "You deserve to cum hard, I'll get you there." Her eyes are glued to your hand as you bring it back down her body and under her dress. She tenses against you, bracing for your touch against her pussy, but it doesn't come.
Not yet at least. Chaeyoung whimpers when your hand brushes the inside of her thighs, and as soon as she traps you between them she moans—you've sunk your fingers into her flesh, pushing them apart again. You dance across the smoothness of her thighs, teasing her with squeezes, as if giving her a light massage on them. Her hands drifts to your collar, wanting to pull you in for a kiss, but you resist, watching her purse and then bite on her lips as you brush a finger over her panties, pressing against the soaked fabric lightly.
"Oh..." Chaeyoung sighs, moaning and resigning herself to her fate as you "scratch" against her wet spot repeatedly, the motion giving her just enough friction to feel you there, but not enough for her to build towards an orgasm.
"You said you wouldn't— GOD!" Chaeyoung yelps at the end, her voice cracking a little as you press firmly against her wetness, swiping over where you think her clit would be through her panties. Her hands dig into your neck, and she's trembling in your arms. You debated making one more swipe, but at this rate she's due to blow as soon as you do that. You deposit her on the edge of the couch, and before she realizes it you've buried your head underneath her dress, slightly stretching it before her thighs quickly close around you, pressing against your cheeks.
"Huh? Ah!" Slightly dazed from your tease she's confused as to where you went. She sees the slight bulge between her legs, but she doesn't put two and two together until it's too late. Nothing prepares Chaeyoung for the lightning bolt of pleasure when you lick her pussy directly, her head snapping back as she let's out a loud cry.
You barely hear her, but you definitely feel her response, her thighs pressing on you head firmly. Chaeyoung's on the edge but you're not ready to push her over yet, sucking on the left lip and then the right, spreading her pussy with your mouth. She smacks your head not too softly, and you have to grab her hands to stop her from wrecking your head from all angles. Her fingers dig into your palm, and she's twisting left and right, her legs hooked around your neck, trying to get you to properly eat her. She's liable to snap your head off at this rate with how hard she's thrashing—you'll have to finish her off first!
You plunge your tongue deep into Chaeyoung, hands holding her hips down. She instantly goes still, before everything begins. Above you Chaeyoung grunts, core tensing as the feeling of your tongue inside her goes straight to her head.
"God, fucking FUCK!" Unbecoming of a childcare teacher Chaeyeoung swears and screams in pleasure, back arching as she explodes. Her world breaks into a billion brilliant pieces, moans loud and unrestrained bursting from her as she grabs on to you over the dress.
Underneath her dress you barely hear any of it, courtesy of her thighs crushing your ears and your singular focus on making Chaeyoung cum harder than she's ever had before. All you hear is the rubbing of her thighs around your ears, the dress rustling against the couch cushion, and the wet squelch of Chaeyoung squirting. It starts with a small spray, and you catch it with your face. Her pussy contracts around your tongue, and she is sweet and salty on your tastebuds with more slick. You capture her clit with your lips, swirling your tongue over it, and her heels dig into your back, pushing her butt off the couch.
"Hnngh!" Chaeyoung howls into a couch pillow, feeling your hands on her ass lift her pussy to your face. It feels so good but she needs even more! Without even being aware of it Chaeyoung pushes herself higher on you, thighs now resting on your shoulders, legs twisting to lock you in.
"Mmph!" Your surprised moan is muffled by Chaeyoung—she has the core strength to lurch herself closer to you, making sure you bury your face in her. Every little touch makes her squirt now—kiss her pussy, squirt; a single lick, squirt; you exhale against her warmth, squirt; your nose brushes against her clit, squirt. You bury your tongue in her, upper lip nudging her clit, and Chaeyoung gushing all over your face—all you hear is the splash of fluids, her thighs still trembling and muffling your ears. When she finally goes slack and releases your head, by volume there's probably more of Lee Chaeyoung on your face than there is on her couch.
You manage to extricate yourself, and when you take your first look at Chaeyoung in a while you're proud of your work—she looks absolutely shattered, a dopey smile on her face and a pink flush washing over her, like she's had a few drinks at the club she didn't go to. She puts her hands out for you, and when you get close she grabs you, face dripping with her juices and all, and kisses you fervently.
"That was amazing. But I want more, I deserve more, don't I?"
"Yes, but you should take a breather, grab some water—"
"No, I want it now!" She pulls you to the bedroom unsteadily, and you watch Chaeyoung peel off the dress as you remove your own clothes.
"Sorry about your shirt."
"Sorry about your dress." Both are soaked in her slick.
"I'll manage."
"So will I then." Chaeyoung kicks her panties off and you're immediately on top of her, already naked and ready to go.
"Wait, sorry, can we change the position?" You get off her, but she shakes her head. "No, just like this." She takes you by your hands, and she draws it under her legs, making you hook her knees. She continues pulling your hands up, making you lean over her. She keeps raising your hands until they're by her head, and her ankles are by your ears.
"F-Fuck me like this," Chaeyoung mumbles, unable to meet your eyes—she's put herself in a mating press. She lets out a gasp when you enter her, her wetness allowing you to get all the way in right away. "Ah, so deep!"
"You like that?"
"Yeah, mm!" You pull back before delivering a solid thump against her hips. "Yes, just like that!" Chaeyoung gasps as you start pounding down into her, all of your weight translating into pure pleasure for her—no matter how hard she fucks herself with a dildo, there's no way she could ever reproduce this feeling! All those nights when she was alone, knowing that you might be with Saerom, or Nagyung, or Jiwon, or someone else, while she drills away at herself—now she's the one you're with! She doesn't need to sneak a peek at each of them coming into the building, wondering who was the lucky one that got pounded into a barely noticeable limp, or who looked either peppier (Hayoung, Jisun) or sleepier (Seoyeon) the next morning. It's all about her tonight, and she's going to let herself enjoy it to the fullest extent.
"Deeper!" She cries, hands grabbing your arms, feeling them flex underneath her. Chaeyoung flutters her eyes, biting her lower lip—anything to entice you further. "Harder, do it harder!" You put a hand on her lower back, bringing her up to you a little, and you slam down.
"Yes! That's it daddy!"
"Daddy?" Chaeyoung opens her eyes in annoyance at your sudden stop, just before she processes what she just said and wishing she could close her eyes and will you away. She covers her own face with her hands, but you pull them away, watching her blush and squirm underneath you. "What did you say?"
"N-Nothing!" But you knew exactly what she said.
"Is that why you called me tonight?" You grind your tip deep inside her. "The kid asked, and you thought about me being your daddy?" She clenches around you. "And now you can't hold it in anymore?" You thought she would deny, maybe say something to deflect, and you'd have to fuck the answer out of her, but no, Chaeyoung's desperate, folding figuratively and literally as you press her legs further back.
"Y-Yes, I'm sorry! It just came out, ah!"
"I prefer oppa, but you can call me whatever you want."
"T-Thank you, mm! Thank you daddy!" After the first occurrence slipped out with no consequence, Chaeyoung's unraveling rapidly, replacing moans of your name with "daddy". She tightens up every time she says it too, causing you to grunt in appreciation.
"God, so fucking tight!"
"Only for you daddy, only tight for you!" Chaeyoung wails. You had known that she was subby, letting you and Seoyeon tease and edge her endlessly, but this is a whole new level. She's pulling you in for a kiss, allowing her legs to be pushed further apart and back, whimpering as you strike her deep. "I'm so close, so close daddy!"
"Are you going to cum for me?"
"Yes, going to cum for you, tell me when!" With a slight grin you continue pounding down into her, staying silent even as you rub on her clit. Chaeyoung's eyes widen before they disappear into her head, closing tightly as she tries to stave off her climax. She wants to remind you that you're not supposed to tease her, but she can't piece the words together, letting a high pitched whine out instead, like she's boiling up from the inside. The clenching around your shaft becomes tighter and tighter—Chaeyoung's losing it, she won't be able to keep herself from cumming!
"D-Daddy!" she wails, sounding like a whistle.
"Cum for me now!" You stay deep in her and rub her clit rapidly, and Chaeyoung cries out in glorious release.
"Yes!" The words are choked out, and her flat tummy twitches—you feel it in the form of her pussy clenching around you, sucking you deep as you take in the sight. Chaeyoung's a young and pretty childcare provider, kind and caring. An ideal, if not perfect, if not too perfect, type for many perhaps, especially with her looks and figure.
"Hnnngh fuck!" Yet here she is, creaming herself all around your cock, getting the fucking that, in her own words, she deserves.
"That's it, cum as hard as you want, I'm here to give you everything you deserve." The pleasure roils and boils within Chaeyoung, and your lips on her neck, the subtle pump of your hips, the fingerpad on her nipple, it all brings her back to overflowing. She gulps and chokes on air, a small orgasm washing over her from that alone. When she finally stops trembling she finds herself sweating, her arms and legs tangling around you like a clingy vine.
"That was amazing daddy."
"Good, you deserve it." Chaeyoung pulls you in for a kiss, and thankfully she loosens up slightly around you—any more of her rhythmic, perhaps unwitting, tugs on your shaft, and you're close to losing it. You calm down a little, enjoying her warm caress, a satisfied lover glowing from the pleasure. She can finish you off later, but you were in no rush.
Chaeyoung has other plans though, she's not nearly as satisfied as you thought.
"But I think... I think I also deserve it from behind. And I also think I deserve your cum in me."
"What?"
"I want your cum in me, daddy." She's on all fours, and she grabs your shaft, pushing herself back on to you.
"Fuck are you sure?" She's even tighter from behind.
"Maybe I even deserve a baby from you."
"Chaeyoung!" You grip her hips to steady yourself. It's one thing to fuck her, it's another thing to breed her. And she's calling you "daddy", fuck.
"I like being around kids, why do you think Saerom offered the job to me? I asked for it. I want kids." Despite seemingly cockdrunk, grinding herself against your hips, you see that Chaeyoung's serious.
"Are you sure?"
"We're— I mean, I am, ready to have them. You're the only one I'm doing it with, so if it happens, great, if it doesn't, maybe in the future." She pushes herself up, pressing her back to your chest and wrapping her arms around your neck. "So we can have the talk later, but right now please just give me the breeding I deserve, daddy." You hips pull back and snap forward, like a rubber band releasing its energy, and Chaeyoung cries out happily.
"Just like that!"
"Is that what you want? Why you put yourself into a mating press, hoping I'd blow my load before I could do anything else?"
"I-I wanted you to cum in me twice daddy!"
"You didn't think I would last long enough?"
"No, I didn't mean— Nngh! I'm sorry!" You push Chaeyoung down on the bed and pin her there, hips humping down into her from above. You rub against her g-spot on each thrust, and she's screaming into the sheets, delighted at your "punishment".
"Fuck me daddy, please, cum in me!" You're slamming into her now, and when Chaeyoung buckles so do you, pressing down into her prone form and flooding her womb in an instant. Chaeyoung squeals into the kiss she finds herself in, her legs kicking, unable to handle the heat she's suddenly filled with. You grunt and groan, shoving yourself deeper with smaller thrusts, determined to drain yourself fully in her.
"Hnngh that's so deep!" One more spurt for good measure. With that you collapse on top of her, keeping yourself partially propped up to not completely crush her. It is a while before both your breaths stabilize, and you roll off her.
"Thanks oppa, that was everything I dreamed of, and more." You follow her eyes down, watching your load spill out of her. There was always an implicit understanding that Saerom and the other employees you had fun with took care of themselves, that they would ask you to use a condom otherwise, but for the first time ever Chaeyoung's making you question that.
"Chaeyoung, are you— Were you serious?"
"About kids? Yes. It's not a safe day, but it's also not that risky, there's a chance, and that's good enough for me."
"That's a huge decision, you should've—"
"There are big changes coming, we're all making big decisions, so— No, that's for Saerom unnie to break it to you." Chaeyoung shakes her head. "Sorry, just call it baby fever, thinking about 'daddy' just threw me for a loop." She kisses you in apology. "Don't worry, I won't make you take responsibility if—"
"No, that would be irresponsible of me. I just don't want you to make a rash decision while you're... not in the right state of mind."
"You mean needy and horny?" Chaeyoung asks as she cleans between her legs. "If I didn't want the risk, I would've just gotten myself off and called it a night, I have toys you know. So just enjoy yourself, I'm not worrying about it and I don't want you to be. I can stop with the breeding talk if you don't find it hot."
"Right, no umm, do what turns you on. If you want to call me names and think about being reckless in bed, I'll meet you halfway."
"Well when you put it like that, it sounds so... hot." Chaeyoung's rubbing her neck, feeling warm all over again. "But no, I'm too drained, let's just take a shower and hit the bed?"
"You want me to stay over?"
"Please?" She pouts, and you don't have it in you to say no. After she insists that you shower first rather than together ("I'm going to jump you if you get hard again."), you're dozing off as Chaeyoung curls up behind you, spooning you as she falls asleep against your back.
You're jolted awake by the sound of a cupboard door closing.
"Oh, sorry!" Chaeyoung's dressed in a form-fitting black swimsuit, leaving nothing to the imagination, highlighting her stunning curves.
"Going somewhere?"
"Oh, Saerom messaged me, told me to enjoy my day off? So I was going to go swimming in the morning instead!"
"Hmm, sorry, I can't let you do that." You wrap your hand around her waist, pulling her back to bed. "That's on me, I didn't do a good job."
"Didn't do a good job?"
"So Jiwon is the one who asked Saerom for a day off for you, because I ditched her for you."
"What? Oh no, I know I shouldn't have asked you to come over yesterday, I feel so bad!"
"No no, you deserved all of it." You run a hand under her top, and Chaeyoung's blushing pink at your forwardness. "One of the conditions for Jiwon to let me go last night was that I fuck you until you can't function, and she asked Saerom to give you the day off because of that."
"So you failed, here I am... functioning, aren't I? Maybe I should message Jiwon, let her know that you failed, what would she do then?"
"We'll never know." You pull Chaeyoung against you, and she's melting by the second. "I plan to occupy you, sorry, I mean keep you occupied, for the rest of the day." Chaeyoung gasps at the thought, of you "occupying" her for the rest of the day. "Maybe you won't be able to function for about, I don't know, nine months?" Chaeyoung gasps again, growing warm in your arms. She said she was fine with just having a chance at a baby yesterday, but with how wet she instantly got she knows she's wrong—she needs to be bred, specifically by you.
"A-Are you going to, daddy? I won't tell Jiwon about your failure if you do." You respond by peeling off her swimsuit as she pulls you out of your boxers, and having never got up from the bed since you woke up, you're sliding back into Chaeyoung.
"I will if you get so tight and wet every time."
"O-Only for you, only you can give me what I deserve!" You lift her leg, letting it dangle over your hips, and you're easily bottoming out in Chaeyoung again. "You're going to give me a good workout today aren't you? You're— Oh god, working me over so deep!"
"Yes, it's the perfect workout, we can lie in bed while getting the workout you need... And you'll get your fill all the same!"
"YES!" Chaeyoung cries out as both of you cum quickly—there's no need to last long when you're going to be fucking her plenty today, and the moment you cum, her orgasm is triggered as her body tries to milk you for every drop. As you slowly calm down from you climax you spy her closet full of clothes.
"Are those all your outfits?"
"Yeah, most of them, for work, going out, exercise, shopping."
"You have an outfit to go shopping?"
"Yeah, you know, easy to take off, so I can try on other clothes?"
"You could've stopped at 'easy to take off', go put it on." Chaeyoung's a little puzzled, but she goes over and puts it on. "Good?"
"Yeah." She's pushed against the closet door, and in an instant you've unbuttoned her jeans and pushed into her again. "Hnngh! What?"
"Cum for me." An eager finger on her clit and Chaeyoung's whining into your ear, sucking on your neck and leaving a hickey as she clenches around you.
"Next outfit. You deserve to get fucked in every one of them, I'd cum in you while you're wearing each of them if I could, just so you remember me as soon as you're not naked."
"W-What about when I'm naked?" Chaeyoung asks in a daze, still coming down from her orgasm.
"You won't have to remember, because I'll be there." She shivers against you, as if the thought alone gave her pleasure. She steadies herself and grabs the next outfit. Chaeyoung finds herself whirled around, bent over the bed. The air is cool on the back of her thighs as her skirt is swept up—
"Ughhh yes!"
Chaeyoung gasps as her oversized sweater is pulled over her head and her bike shorts pulled down. She can feel herself leaking cum from the previous load, staining the fabric. Your tongue and lips on her nipples make her leak more, but not before your fingers are shoved in her, trying to keep the cum in.
"J-Just put more into me!" she manages to moan out.
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Chaeyoung's bent over her desk, her work blouse fluttering open—you're on top of her, coming down from your own orgasm and breathing heavily. The only reason that your load dripping from her isn't heard is because her discarded pants are catching all of it.
"Wear this tomorrow," you mumble, tugging on her blouse.
"Hmm?! I can't, there's lipstick marks all over it!" The collar is pink from when Chaeyoung bit into it, trying to muffle her scream earlier. Your fingers delve into her, scooping up some of your load and rubbing it into the pink spots, as if that would make it clean. It just makes things smell, smell of you.
"Wear it tomorrow," you order as you place your fingers by her lips, asking her to clean them.
"Y-Yes daddy."
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Chaeyoung's on the dining table, tiny boy shorts pulled to the side and your cock keeping it there. Her entire body is flushed pink, warm not only from the dishes that were just on the table a moment ago, but also from the pounding you're giving her right now, making her spill slick over the edge of the table and on to the floor.
"You deserve your dessert, don't you?"
"Yes!" Chaeyoung's pulling on her hair, and thrashing about, knocking over a cup of water.
"Good, here's your cream."
Now everything's spilling over the table edge.
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In another world Chaeyoung could've been an idol, putting on different outfits for photoshoots, looking prettier than ever, each shot made to appear absolutely perfect. That Chaeyoung may have wondered if the studio would look like her apartment right now, clothes strewn everywhere, the tops and bottoms hanging on her frame for but a second, the time it takes to make a pose, before they're pulled off and replaced with another; Maybe she would have wondered if photoshoots would be tiring, having to change her outfits and poses constantly.
This Chaeyoung is not capable of wondering, carried and pulled and tossed and finally, fucked on every surface. Her mind's mushy, she's picking up random clothing off the ground, mixing and matching—she doesn't even remember which ones she has worn already for you. Splattered randomly on her clothes are fluids of some description—a mix of her squirt and your cum. She's going to have to do one big load of laundry after you leave.
Speaking of big loads, you've left several in her, and as you fuck Chaeyoung in front of the mirror, the sinful schoolgirl outfit she has on, coupled with her utterly blissed out expression as she braces against the mirror frame, is going to make sure that this last load will last her nine months.
"God you deserve everything I have left don't you?" You growl, arms hooking under her shoulders, pulling her back and keeping her upright.
"Y-Yes, give it, please!" Chaeyoung's barely coherent, you think Jiwon will be properly satisfied if you took a picture of how Chaeyoung looked right now.
"You won't be able to wear these outfits again... This midriff? Gone." Chaeyoung's eyes are gone as well, rolling into her head, and she let's out a long, drawn out moan as you fill her womb one last time, cumming with you and eager to fully drain you and finally get some rest. She lets out a rasp, as if choking, as if she can't hold all the cum in her. She sobs, and a little bit of it leaks out from around your shaft—she's completely full! When you finish firing she sighs happily, going limp in your arms—you're the only thing keeping her up now, and you know she's out of commission, content and bred.
You put her down on the bed, and she pulls you in, pouting for a cuddle. Chaeyoung reaches for her phone, and the two of you laugh at Jiwon's messages.
*Yah, you better not see this message!*
*If the "1" disappears early I'll know!*
Chaeyoung types out a quick message.
*We finished, you should reward oppa with whatever he wants*
*Oh we will! Saerom's gonna tell him soon*
"We? What's this about Saerom, you mentioned her just now too."
"Don't worry about that, it will all be fine." Puzzled, you kiss Chaeyoung all the same—she deserves that much at least.
A/N: Well, got it out just in timeish (not really lol), but this is likely the penultimate chapter to FROMIS app. There'll be one more with the other members, hopefully it'll be soonish. Chaeng has always struck me as the super kind, super nice member, she cares a lot for them, so I wrote that in a little. Hope you like this one, have a happy 2025, and fuck pledis, WE FUCKING GO. Thanks for reading!
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Buck's halfway through his third cup of startlingly bad coffee when Josh pushes the door to the breakroom open, looking mildly concerned in the half second before someone else looms over his shoulder.
He's too numb to do much more than take another sip of coffee as he watches Josh usher Tommy in.
The door clicks shut behind him. Buck wonders for a moment if Tommy's ever actually been to the new dispatch headquarters before. If he ever went to the old one, charming grin on his face while he waited for Abby to finish up so he could take her out, drive her home while her car was in the shop - but no, Tommy would have worked on it himself, maybe.
Had Josh recognized him, that first time, with half of his soot on Buck's face, and just never said anything?
The silence is tense. They're in a fishbowl, no room to lash out even if either of them wanted to because more than half the people working in this place can see them if they just tip their head to the side.
"How can I help?"
It's - his voice is strained, scared, worried. Buck doesn't have a single guess as to how he knows. Maybe Bobby. It's the only person he can think of who would have -.
Buck snorts. "I rebounded with a serial killer who just kidnapped my sister and my baby niece or nephew. I don't - I'm not sure what you want."
He glances up just in time to see the end of Tommy's grimace. Good. He's not sure how much more disastrous of a choice he could have made to try to get Tommy out of his system, but at least it hurts him to know. At least...
"Do you want me to go?"
Buck can't remember anyone asking, before. Usually they just... leave. Get up, walk out, disappear. Tommy bubbled Buck five times in three months. Buck went through seven bags of flour before he drove Eddie to the airport.
His voice shakes on his "No," and Tommy is there, all of the sudden, his hand hovering just over Buck's shoulder, like he realized halfway there it might not be welcome. "Do you still think I need to keep looking for someone better than you?"
It'd been seeing Tommy out with a guy that'd prompted him to stop fucking baking and make an effort to just...get over it But with Eddie away, and the rest of the 118 so wrapped up in their lives, there weren't a whole lot of outlets for that. And it's been easy to willfully misinterpret Tommy's breakup speech. Or - interpret it in the most hurtful way possible.
"Is this what you want to do right now?" Tommy asks, even and measured. "Will this help?"
"I want my sister back!"
Tommy takes a step back. His hands shift to his pockets, and Buck just wants -
"Why are you here?"
He tips his head up. Holds Tommy's gaze. Tommy flounders in a way Buck's never seen before.
He looks - tired. Good. White Henley under a flannel Buck had always told him brought out his eyes. The jeans Buck had stolen once or twice because they made his ass look good. His hair's grown in at the sides, and the sprinkling of greys are more obvious than the last time he'd seen it this length.
"I just... didn't want you to be alone."
Tears threaten at the corners of his eyes. He wants to laugh, but he's terrified if he starts he won't be able to hold in the fear. "When did that change?"
Tommy gnaws on his cheek. "You have so many people, Buck. You have -."
"I don't want emotional repression Tommy here, so if you're just here to keep me distracted until someone else can be here you should just... go."
Something flashes in his gaze. Anger, maybe. Terror.
"Please let me stay."
It hurts, to hear it. It hurts to hear the trepidation in his voice as he says it. Buck just wants to pull him in, tuck his face into the curve of his neck, soak in the warmth of his arms.
Buck spends too long staring at his knees. Long enough for Tommy to shift, to sigh, to nod his head decisively out of the corner of Buck's eye.
The word is stuck in his throat. Has been for months, since Tommy looked at him with teary eyes and walked away.
"I won't be able to let you go again."
He's already half turned away. Buck can only see half his expression as his eyes dip closed. He swallows. Nods, again.
Buck can't watch him push back through that door, so he stares at the toes of his boots until his vision starts to blur.
A second pair of toes swim into his eyeline. A hand shifts through his curls, snagging on knots, digging towards his scalp, and he can't quite bite back the sob. The arms that reach for him are warm, big and familiar, and Buck gives himself over to the panic and the fear that have been clawing at his chest for hours now. Tommy says something - whispers it into the air above Buck's head over and over, but Buck can't - he just -
He presses his face into Tommy's stomach, digs his fingers into the back of his shirt, sucks in horrible, gasping breaths. It's not enough. Nothing will be until he's got Maddie in his arms.
But it's more than he had an hour ago.
"Stay," he manages, and Tommy's fingers curl around Buck's neck and hold.
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Understanding - Paul Lahote X Fem!Reader
A little break up, make up one shot while I work on part two of stay 💕 as always, let me know what you think! 2.4K Words ❤️
You had been understanding. You had been so, incredibly, unbelievably understanding. You had been kind, patient, considerate. You had thrown every insecurity away in your mind. You shoved your feelings right down your throat.
But that was over with now.
Now, you faced him. In the middle of the yard, your throat agonizingly raw from yelling. You were shocked he hadn't phased yet, but he knew the minute he did you would take off. The pack, watching from afar and unbeknownst to you, were also shocked at his restraint.
"I would NEVER do anything to hurt you. Why won't you believe that?"
You laughed wetly through the tears. You were down right manic over what he didn't comprehend.
"Really?? You don't understand why I would be upset by ANY of this? Are you that fucking blind?"
Paul huffed through his nose, attempting to control his temper.
"I have a job, Y/N. There's new bloodsuckers popping up every day now and we have to make sure we're ready for anything. That means stacking up our numbers against them. Guy or girl, they have to be trained."
You scoffed, rolling your eyes,
"And don't you find it at all peculiar that everyone else is out on their own but you're STILL having to train this same girl? DAY IN AND DAY OUT?!"
He sighed.
"She should be ready, I know. But every time we get on patrol, she gets fearful and fails at basic exercises. Sam has me spend extra time with her."
You threw up your hands as if the answer was obvious, "Then TELL Sam to have someone else take a turn?"
"She only likes training with me."
Your eyes went wide, and all you saw was red.
"AND THAT DOESNT GIVE YOU ANY FUCKING CLUE THAT MAYBE SHES FAILING ON PURPOSE FOR YOUR ATTENTION? THAT MAYBE SHE DOESNT GIVE A SHIT ABOUT IMPRINTS? THAT MAYBE PERHAPS SHE HAS DIFFERENT INTENTIONS?"
Paul shook his head, him now scoffing.
"It's actually really hard to learn to navigate being a wolf. That's something YOU don't seem to understand."
You think you had lost your mind. It seemed as though the world crumbled around you, his words ringing in your ears from the impact. That was not something the imprint you knew before this would have ever dared say to you. It wasn't that you believed Paul would ever be disloyal, but your instincts were damn sure this girl wanted him to be.
You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat.
"You're right. I don't. You need to be with someone that understands. We're done."
Paul stepped back like he had taken a blow to the chest. His eyes softened now.
"You....you don't mean that."
You headed towards your car, not being able to face the broken look in his eyes.
"Y/N, wait," he reached out, and even though you were mad, a part of it killed you to deny him.
You shook your head, new tears rehydrating their original streaks.
You sniffled, and took a deep breath.
"I'm tired, Paul. I'm tired of waiting up for you. I'm tired of being left unanswered for hours. I'm tired of making plans that just get canceled. Im tired of being lonely. And most of all, I'm tired of being disappointed."
He grabbed your arm before you could fully get in, and you saw Sam emerge, still at a respectable distance from the two of you.
"Baby listen, okay, I'm sorry. I can do better I-"
"You've said that before Paul. This is not the first time we've fought about this."
Tears pricked the corners of his eyes now.
"Please. Don't." He whispered.
He almost made you cave. You so badly wanted to stay. But you also knew if you did, it would be the same reoccurring cycle. He had to know you were serious. You wanted the relationship you had before she came along. Until you were sure you would get that again, you had to leave.
"I have to go. Call me when your priorities change." You said as you gently pulled out of his grip and shut the door. And with that, you took off to your father's place.
-
Paul stood planted in the same spot you had left him, shattered. What had he done?
He felt a small hand on his shoulder, a feminine voice in his ear,
"Maybe it was for the better. She seems like a total bitch."
Paul's blood turned cold. It was as if in that very moment, he had come to his senses. The smoke had cleared in his crowded mind. You were right. Of course you were right. All the stress that had been on his plate, he hadn't been thinking clearly at all.
He came to realization now, and it was too late.
Paul yanked away his arm, turning with a fury in his eyes to the woman behind him. She shrunk back under his gaze, feigning an innocence he knew good and well was all fake.
He trembled with anger, barely registering that Sam was now in between him and the girl. Paul pointed a finger at her, teeth gritting with anger.
"Get. The FUCK. Away from me."
Paul ripped apart as he phased, having it bottled up for far too long, and dashing off like a mad man into the woods.
The woman gaped like a fish, starting to babble, turning to Sam for reassurance.
"I didn't do anything I-"
Sam huffed a breath through his nose, "You heard him. I think it would be best if you left. Embry's cousin or not, you are no longer welcome here. That's an order."
Sam shook his head, running a hand through his hair as she stormed off. He felt guilty for letting it get like this. He had some suspicions about her joining the pack, seeing as she was always gravitating towards Paul, but he had shrugged it off, too occupied with everything else going on.
Sam also knew too well what it was like to hurt an imprint. Physically or emotionally, the bond felt all the same. Strict alpha or not, he valued Paul as a brother, and just hoped you would come back for him.
-
As Paul laid his head onto his pillow, he watched the days go by before him. Being forced to come eat dinner by Emily and whenever he had patrol were just about the only times Paul left his bed. He would call you once a day, sometimes with a small hope you'd answer, and sometimes just to hear your voicemail. After his patrol shifts ended, he would often sneak off to your house, just to make sure he'd know you were safe, if even from a mile away.
-
"Do you think she'll ever come back?" Kim asked Jared quietly one day, after watching Paul barely eat his food and sulk back up to his room.
"I don't know honestly. Y/N is just as stubborn as he is. But I do miss him. I've never in my life seen Paul like this. His internal thoughts are depressing as hell..."
Kim sighed, "It's not like she's doing any better. She finally answered my call yesterday, and I had to double check who I was talking too. She's miserable, Jare."
He shrugged, "I mean what can we do about it babe? You can't get involved in people's business like that."
"They're not people. They're family." She mumbled as she clutched her coffee mug.
-
Another week had gone by, the pack all sitting in the kitchen getting ready to eat.
"Boys. We have information on the new vampires in town," Sam announced as he walked through the door with Jacob.
"They're after Bella. She had a run in with that red head we keep chasing to the border every night. Her boyfriend had tried to kill her so the Cullen's killed him, and now this bitch is assembling an army to take her out for revenge." Jacob relayed.
This grabbed Paul's attention. If they were after your sister, that meant you were in danger.
"We're going to help them fight. Our people are at risk if we let this get out of hand, or if the Cullen's lose. But until the army comes here, we're going to be sharing shifts with them to watch over the Swan house," Sam said, looking at Paul who was heading out the door.
"Paul."
"You can watch Bella from a distance. I'm taking my imprint home," he slammed the front door.
"I can't imagine that's gonna go good." Embry mumbled.
-
Your body jolted upright from the couch at the abrupt knocking on the front door. You hadn't been expecting anyone, Bella out doing who knows what with Edward, and Charlie hours away on a fishing trip.
Opening the door your breath caught in your throat.
"What are you doing here?"
"We have to go. Now." He said sternly, ignoring your bewildered look as he flew past you and up the stairs to your room.
"And just who the hell do you think you are?!" You stormed after him, appalled he was barging in your house like this.
"There's an entire army of vampires on the hunt for your sister. You're not safe here, I'm taking you to Emily's." he said as he grabbed a suitcase and started throwing random clothes in.
"You don't own me Paul Lahote. I'm not going anywhere with you." You crossed your arms as you looked at him incredulously.
He refused to look you in the eye as he spoke, his breathing heavy from your scent,
"It is still my job to protect you whether we're together or not. You don't have to talk to me at all if you don't want too, and you can sleep in the spare bedroom" He said as he continued to pack.
You laughed.
"Come to Emily's with her there? I think the fuck-"
"She's not there anymore."
"Ohhhh so because she's gone you care about me again."
He stopped, this time turning to look you in the eyes for the first time in two weeks.
"Don't you ever fucking say that. I could give a shit less about her. It's always been you. I'm....look, I'm sorry I didn't make you believe that before. You were right. And I was so unbelievably wrong. I understand why you don't want to be with me anymore. I'm not asking you to forgive me. Im asking, just for the time being, that you do this so that I know you are safe....please."
You wish you could have stopped the tears that welled up in your eyes. A part of you wanted to stay mad forever, just to make a point. But the other just wanted to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him. Two weeks felt like two years apart from him, and your heart so desperately ached to be near him again.
"Fine," you whispered.
Paul looked like he wanted to say something more, his eyes lingering on yours, but he decided against it, zipping up your bag and heading to the truck.
-
Once you both arrived to Emily's the pack headed out to train with the Cullen's, leaving you both and Kim at the kitchen table.
"So you guys.....didn't make up?" Kim asked disappointed.
You shook your head, "He just wanted me here. He apologized and said he wanted me to be safe. It was left at that."
Emily reached her hand over into yours,
"Do you want to be with him?" She asked genuinely.
"I.....I mean," you sighed. "Of course I want to be with him. I just was so angry, you know?? I didn't like feeling that way in our relationship. Alone."
The girls nodded understandably.
"If it helps, he's been an absolute wreck without you. I think if anything it was a wake up call." Kim offered.
"I haven't been exactly living the best either," you slightly chuckled.
"Well. We are more than excited to have you back in the house. That being said, I'm going to need both of your help with dinner." Emily smiled as she looked at the clock, standing up.
You grinned, happy to at least be here with your friends.
-
It was the night before the fight. Everything was quiet, but you lie awake, your mind racing. You hadn't said much to Paul in the three days you were here. There were lingering stares, brushing past eachother occasionally in the hall, but no conversations had been had. You felt a pit in your stomach at the idea of this fight. What if something happened and you never got to see him again? What if the last thing you had between you two was this awkward tension? The more you thought about it, the faster the tears spilled down your cheeks. You sniffled hard.
A gentle knock at the door startled you, getting up you frantically tried to wipe them away.
There he stood on the other side, leaning against the frame. His eyes looked so exhausted, like he hadn't gotten sleep either in days. "Whats wrong?" He said softly, taking a look at your face.
His gentle voice was enough to send you flying into his embrace. You arms wrapped around him as you sobbed into his neck.
He held your waist as he walked you both backwards into the room, shutting the door. His hand caressed your face as he leaned his cheek on your forehead.
"Hey, hey. Shhhh. I'm right here. It's okay. You're okay. You're safe."
You leaned back just enough to look at him, shaking your head. Your voice was broken and trembling,
"I-I don't care that I'm safe. T-tomorrow. A-and you. What if we never-"
Paul used both hands to cradle your face.
"Hey. Listen to me. Everything will be okay. This is what we've been training for. It's us and the Cullen's against them, our numbers are stronger. I'll be fine, alright? I'm just happy you're here and away from harm."
"I can't live without you. I love you." You whispered.
Paul instantly kissed you. It was like a wave of relief and happiness washed over you as you kissed him back with every ounce of passion you could muster.
Both your tongues danced as you refused to pull away from eachother. Paul bent down only for a moment to hoist you up in his arms, taking you into his room instead.
Unfortunately due to advanced hearing, the house was no longer quiet that night.
#paul lahote#sam uley#bella swan#edward cullen#embry call#twilight#imagine#jacob black#new moon#quil ateara#paul lahote x you#paul lahote x reader#paul x reader
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❝ I'VE LOVED YOU BEFORE, I'M SURE OF IT!❞
— SYNOPSIS: eons ago, the king of curses lost his lover. you're gone, you have been for years, so why is it that you're standing right before him?
— WARNINGS: reincarnation, death of servant, your death mentioned, blood, swearing, angst, fluff, ooc sukuna?, he's downbad, 3k words
— AUTHOR’S NOTE: HELP MY FIRST TIME WRITING FOR SUKUNA IF U LIKE IT PLS LMK AND REBLOG!!
a face so familiar that in a sea of people, he'd recognize it instantly. he could paint a perfect picture from memory alone; how could he ever forget you? the only person he's ever grown accustomed to loving with every fiber of his being. the only person who's ever made the very king of curses feel weak. so then, why... why are you here once more?
impossible. it couldn't, shouldn't be you. he watched you slip away, felt your last breath against his skin, cradled you in his arms as your life ebbed away, the haunting reminder of the day he lost you. so why, against all reason, are you standing before him?
he can't deny the reality that it's truly you standing there, amidst the blossoms, with those delicate features that outshine even the brightest stars in the sky. the very essence of innocence radiates from your being, reflected in the purity of your gaze as you remain unaware of his presence, lost in the simple joy of picking dainty flowers from his meticulously tended garden. it's a scene so achingly familiar, yet impossibly surreal, as if plucked from a distant memory and brought vividly to life before his eyes.
his naive little lamb, blissfully unaware of the danger that lurks just beyond the edges of his meticulously guarded property. anyone could sneak up on you at this very moment, and you'd remain oblivious, lost in the gentle warmth of the sunlight as you hum a soft melody to yourself. do you not realize the trespass you commit with every step, the audacity of encroaching upon his domain?
for if you were anyone else, the ground beneath your feet would surely be stained crimson, a stark reminder of the consequences of such brazen intrusion. he scrutinizes your every movement, his gaze lingering on each delicate gesture as if committing them to memory. it's the first time in what feels like an eternity that he's experienced a semblance of peace.
sukuna, the embodiment of strength and power, finds himself perplexed by the profound comfort your presence brings him. he detests his own vulnerability, despises the notion of being beholden to anyone or anything. and yet, in the quiet moments spent observing you, he can't help but entertain the fleeting desire to hold you once more like the days he once treasured with you.
the fleeting moment of vulnerability dissipates in an instant as one of his ignorant servants, a mere fool in sukuna's eyes, rudely intrudes upon his garden sanctuary. with careless disregard, they trample over the delicate cecilias, the very flowers you were delicately picking.
"m-my lord, my humblest apologies," they stammer, their voice trembling with fear. "i don't know how an intruder got in, but i promise to dispose-" before they can finish their sentence, their head is swiftly separated from their body, the soft thud of impact echoing in the garden as it rolls to the ground. red oozes out, staining the grass crimson red as he stares at the body indifferently. tch. incompetence is met with swift and merciless retribution. how weak, how utterly weak. not only had that feeble intruder disrupted his tranquility, but they had also brought undue attention to his secluded sanctuary.
his gaze sharply turns towards you, contemplating whether you had noticed the disturbance, only to find your eyes innocently peering back at him. a surge of something unfamiliar courses through him as he meets your gaze. there you stand, so delicate and unassuming, clutching those flowers, studying him with a curiosity that unsettles and intrigues him in equal measure.
would you scream? run for the hills? yet, there's an underlying fearlessness about you, a quality he's always admired. part of him yearns for the recognition in your eyes, the acknowledgment of his presence, a desire for you to step closer, to nestle into his embrace and play with his hair, as if it were an annoyance he secretly craved, so long as it was from you.
"…would you like a flower?" you beam up at him, your smile radiant enough to rival the sun itself. holding it out to him, your eyes sparkle with genuine delight as you offer the delicate blossom. "it matches your hair. pretty." for a moment, he hesitates, towering over you with his imposing figure. yet, you show no fear, not of his unusual features nor his intimidating presence, not in this life and not in your past one either. with tentative movements, his rough, calloused hands brush against yours, accepting your gift.
he observes with a quiet fascination as your smile widens even further, a sight that warms a part of him he thought long dormant. almost instinctively, he restrains the urge to brush back a stray strand of your hair, watching instead as you take care of it yourself, a soft frown forming on your face as it catches in your lip gloss.
"it's funny," you begin, a playful lilt to your voice as you gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "everything here seems so familiar. tell me, have we ever met before? i feel like i know you from somewhere," you muse, studying his features with a curious intensity. there's a certainty in your tone, a sense of recognition that stirs something deep within him.
"no. that's stupid," he gruffly replies, brushing off your inquiry with a dismissive tone, though he can't ignore the flicker of amusement in your eyes. "ah, you're right. that would be impossible, wouldn't it? perhaps it was just déjà vu," you concede, your smile widening ever so slightly, there's a sincerity in your gaze that leaves him unsettled. he hates the way his heart stirs each time you do that, that... that thing with your face, he's seen it a thousand times before, that stupid smug smile. it's been a millennium since he's last seen it, and he finds himself silently admitting that he's missed it more than he cares to admit.
the one who shattered his harem, the one he believed he had lost forever. over the years of your absence, he had convinced himself that it was foolish to love a mortal. loving you was a mistake, he told himself. there was no void in his heart because of you; it was there to satiate his hunger for bloodlust.
yet, the mere sight of you right now, skin kissed by the sunlight shattered those self-imposed barriers, your voice carrying on about the flowers you held. peonies, daisies, lilies, roses—all growing in a small, vibrant garden. they were your favorites, adorning the white fence so beautifully. although he'd rather be caught dead then admit it out loud, it was dedicated to you, a silent tribute that reminded him of your presence.
in moments of turmoil, he found solace here, secretly seeking refuge amidst the blossoms, gazing up at the stars as if searching for your familiar constellations. what were they again? he had almost forgotten, and somehow, that notion was more unsettling than any sorcerer he had ever faced.
"oh, i almost forgot to ask, what was your name?" you giggle, looking up at him with an air of innocence. do you really talk to random strangers like that? you still are such an airhead. it seems you have no survival skills, but perhaps that's why he's always been so protective of you. "i am the king of curses, sukuna," he states, glaring down at you. it irks him, slightly, that even his name has been wiped from your memory. you really, don't remember, do you?
"sukuna... i'm calling you 'kuna from now on, 'kay?" you beam, and he lets out a weary sigh. how unoriginal. you used to call him that too, but anything else sounds quite strange coming from your lips.
"why are you here?" he grumbles, the question weighing heavy on his mind, not just in this moment, but echoing through the centuries. he wants to know why you've returned, why you've chosen now to reappear in his life after so many years have passed by. are you taunting his only weakness? how infuriating. you remember his old nickname, the flowers you once adorned his head with, but not him. is this some sort of game to you?
"i don't know," you answer simply, adjusting the crinkles in your dress. as the sun begins its slow descent, casting a warm, golden hue over the valley, you find yourself standing there, amidst the beauty of the landscape. "i just happened to stumble upon here," you murmur softly, your gaze fixed on the horizon, where the sky meets the earth in a breathtaking display of colors. the grass sways gently in the breeze, whispering secrets of days gone by, while memories of laughter and joy linger in the air like a bittersweet melody. his nose crinkles. what do you mean you don't know?
"what are you doing?" he hears your voice, sweet and soft like a distant echo from the past, a time when things were simpler, when you were by his side, filling his days with light and laughter. it's been hard without you, he realizes, a pang of longing tugging at his heart as he watches you standing there, bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun.
he wants to reach out to you, to tell you how much he's missed you, how much he's longed for your presence all these years. but instead, he remains silent, a silent observer of the moment, as the memories of days gone by wash over him like gentle waves, leaving behind an ache in his heart.
"you're trespassing," he grumbles, his voice carrying a weight that extends far beyond the boundaries of his garden. it's a warning, a silent one for you to stay away, to spare him the agony of reliving the memories that threaten to consume him. but even as he speaks the words, he knows deep down that it's not just his garden you're trespassing into— it's his heart, too.
sukuna does not wish to love you, loving you hurts, it makes him what he hates the most, it makes him weak. once, long ago, he was foolish to love you. he never uttered those words aloud, but the way his gaze softened in your presence spoke volumes. you were the only one who managed to carve a place for yourself in his heart, a place he thought was forever closed off to the world.
he doesn't want to care about you. to him, you should be nothing more than a passing nuisance, easily disposed of if it serves his purpose. yet, as he gazes upon your innocent face, memories long buried begin to resurface, tugging at the frayed edges of his carefully constructed facade.
sukuna despises what you evoke within him, a vulnerability he thought he'd long since buried beneath layers of ruthlessness. as the sun caresses your features with its gentle warmth, he can't help but feel a pang of longing deep within his chest. it's a sensation he's tried to suppress, to bury beneath the weight of his power and dominance. after all, he's the feared king of curses, not some lovesick fool. but even he can't deny the allure of your presence, the way you effortlessly weave your way into the recesses of his darkened heart.
in the depths of his being, sukuna knows he shouldn't miss you. he shouldn't yearn for the days when your laughter echoed through the corridors of his mind. yet, despite his best efforts to cast you aside, a part of him remains tethered to you, unable to sever the invisible threads that bind him to your memory.
your love, once radiant as the sun, pierced through the darkness shrouding his heart, illuminating corners he never knew existed. it was pure, untainted, a beacon of hope in his desolate existence. even in his darkest moments, he couldn't bear to extinguish your light, for fear of losing himself entirely. but then, like a flickering flame snuffed out by a sudden gust of wind, you were gone.
the memory of holding you close as you slipped away, your warmth fading into cold nothingness, still haunts him to this day. yet amidst the pain, there was a promise— a whispered vow that one day, you'd find each other again. and somehow, against all odds, you did. but fate had robbed you of the memories that once bound you together.
he watches you now, your smile as bright as ever, oblivious to the love you once shared. it's a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that you'll never remember the depth of your connection, the intensity of the love that once burned between you. forgotten memories of your presence flood his mind, stirring emotions he thought long buried.
he should be able to snuff out your existence without a second thought, should revel in the sight of your blood staining the verdant valley, your cries piercing the tranquil air. but as you stand before him, oblivious to the darkness lurking within him, he finds himself paralyzed by indecision.
his soul screams at him to act, to rid himself of this weakness once and for all. but his heart, that traitorous organ, refuses to comply. how can you, with your pure heart and untainted spirit, still evoke such conflicting emotions within him?
sukuna prides himself on his selfishness, on his willingness to betray and manipulate to achieve his desires. and yet, in your presence, he finds himself questioning whether his desire to hold you close once more is too selfish, whether his darkness would tarnish your purity.
and a part of him wonders if you'd fall in love with him again, wonders how you did the first time. would your hands feel the same, tracing the contours of his face with that delicate touch? would your lips still taste as sweet, brushing against his with that familiar tenderness?
"'kuna?" you murmur softly, looking up at him to see if he's paying attention. and for a fleeting moment, he's transported back to a memory he holds dear, etched into the deepest recesses of his heart.
"'kuna?" you had called out one day, perched elegantly on his lap, nestled against him as if you belonged there. his hand, protective yet tender, rested on the small of your back, ensuring you remained secure in his embrace. your legs were tucked into his, absentmindedly toying with some strands of his hair. "hm?" he responded, his gaze half-heartedly softening as he met your doe-like eyes, a hint of amusement dancing within their depths.
"do you think in every universe, we're together?" you inquire, your voice tinged with a hopeful innocence that tugs at his heartstrings. he let out a scoff, a familiar gesture masking the warmth that blooms within him, his fingers instinctively threading through your hair as you playfully swat them away. you're so naive and innocent, believing in such stupid things.
"that's absurd," he retorted, though the corner of his lips quirked upward in a ghost of a smile, unable to deny the affection that lingers between you. love, he once believed, was a fleeting illusion, a mirage in the desert of existence. he scoffed at the notion of eternal love, dismissing it as a fanciful delusion born of naive optimism. how could love endure when humanity was plagued by sin, disloyalty, and obstinance? it seemed absurd to place faith in something so fragile, so easily shattered by the harsh realities of life.
"hey..." you pouted, your bottom lip jutting out in a playful display of mock indignation, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "well, i believe we are," you declare, a stubborn determination coloring your words as you stick out your tongue in defiance.
"such a meanie," you'd muttered under your breath, though your protest is laced with affection as he pulled you closer, enveloping you in the warmth of his embrace. and he's snapped out of his thoughts once more when he hears your voice cut through his memories.
"ah, i'm sorry," the present you sheepishly mumbles, catching yourself mid-ramble and rubbing the back of your head with an embarrassed smile. "i'm boring you, aren't i? it's getting late; i should be going."
with a resigned sigh, you glance up at sukuna, feeling a flush of embarrassment color your cheeks. you hadn't meant to prattle on to a stranger, especially one who felt so oddly familiar and comforting, like a warm, fluffy blanket on a chilly evening. as you start to move away, ready to bid your unexpected companion farewell, one of sukuna's arms shoots out, gripping your wrist firmly and halting your departure.
despite everything, you're still here, standing before him, a familiar presence that refuses to fade into oblivion, and he finds himself unwilling to sever the crimson thread of fate that you once fervently believed bound you together. he's unsettled of the idea of allowing himself to love you again, yet, at this moment, his greatest fear is not in loving you, but rather in the prospect of forgetting you altogether.
confusion flickers across your features as you look up at him, but he refuses to meet your gaze, his expression unreadable. the soft hues of the pink sunset cast a gentle glow over you both, and in that moment, you could swear you see a faint flush tingeing sukuna's cheeks.
he still considers you foolish for believing in an everlasting love. and yet, as he looks into your eyes, he doesn't believe an eternity with you would be too bad. in fact, he wouldn't mind it at all. he mutters gruffly, though his voice betrays a hint of annoyance, and yet, inexplicably, your heart leaps at the invitation.
"speak."
and with that stupidly charming grin on your face, you do.
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