#haven’t had a genuine crush in a long time but holy shit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

beskarhearts · 4 years ago

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soft javi idea!!! he confesses to you about his crush on you and how you make him not want to be an asshole anymore 🥺

Bad Coffee (Javier Peña x reader)

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Word count: over 2.8K

Warnings: cursing, mention of sex/brothels, drinking (nothing else I can think of but let me know!

Summary: Javier Peña wasn’t the type to ask people on dates or have feelings. At least that was what you thought.

Notes: UM I LOVE THIS AND I HOPE YOU DO TOO! I am an absolute sucker for soft Javi so this was soooooo fun to write and definitely helped. Pretty much I am ALWAYS willing to write Soft!Javi because it is the greatest. (also haven’t really proof read this yet so please excuse any mistakes!)

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Late nights at the office with Javier has become the usual for you two. You were both hell-bent on catching Escobar and if that meant spending every second at the office and getting maybe an hour or two of sleep each night, then that was what it meant. So even when everyone else left the office and Murphy retired for the night, you and Javier would be sitting at your respective desks and mull over paper work and evidence and information and anything you could get your hands on.

You didn't mind it though. Sure it was exhausting and your mind never seemed to stray away from work but you felt like you were doing something. You technically could go to your apartment all alone and get some sleep or maybe eat a proper meal but that felt ridiculous. Why bother with such menial things when you had much more important things at hand?

Also, it meant you weren't alone anymore. You had started spending nights at the office before Javier had and you can't remember when he joined in but you didn't mind. Javier and you had worked long enough that you had gotten used to his annoying, bothersome characteristics. He was hot-headed and flirtatious and sometimes incredibly hard to read but he was good at his job and he genuinely cared, which was more than you could say for a lot of other people working here. You two also worked well together. It was probably a natural result of working together for long enough, though you knew there were some people who had known Peña for longer than you had and could barely work with the guy.

Some people said you worked well together because you slept together and perhaps that was a natural assumption given Javier's reputation with women and the flirtatious quips he would send your way every once in a while. And while you had confirmed that wasn't the case, people liked to gossiped. But really you just worked well with the guys because you both had respect for each other and were what you would consider friends. You could share a drink with the guy and crack a joke at his expense. You could also mull over paperwork into the late hours of the night and go over countless theories and ideas with him, all of which he listened to and never tried to overshadow you.

"Drink this."

You looked up from your desk to see Javier holding a cup of coffee out, the brown liquid steaming and exuding a scent that alone seemed to wake you up. Your greedy fingers snatched the cup up, taking a big gulp of it before sending a small smile to the man who still stood in front of your desk. "Thanks, Peña."

You had come to greatly appreciate Peña's presence during nights like these. He would bring you coffee, let you rant and ramble, and if you drifted off the sleep at your desk, he would sometimes lay his jacket over you as a makeshift blanket. You didn't have a lot of people who looked after you, having left your family behind in the states for the job. So having Javier do even the smallest thing like bring you a cup of coffee was something you were grateful for.

"Did I make it right this time?" Peña asked slyly, giving you a small smirk that you reciprocated. You swore it was on purpose, but something was always just a little off with your coffee. You had told him how you liked him, given him the exact number of scoops of sugar and amount of creamer. Yet for some reason the coffee would always be a little too sweet or wouldn't have enough creamer. You drank it anyways, because you weren't picky and weren't one to say no to even the shittiest cup of coffee. But now it had become a small joke between you two.

"Not enough sugar." you playfully responded, giving him a small chuckle.

Javier looked down at you and shifted in the spot he stood in before responded. "A coffee place would probably make it better."

You snorted, placing your cup down and taking a glance at the watch on your wrist. "I don't think any coffee place is open at 2 am on a Tuesday."

"Well then maybe sometime when you aren't working." Javier countered and you raised a singular eyebrow, cocking your head. He was acting odd. A little too odd.

You shook it off and decided to make a small joke. "Oh, you mean when I'm dead?"

Javier sighed, brushing his hand through his hair before planting both of his hands onto your desk, leaning forward slightly. "I mean maybe sometime when you aren't working...and neither am I. Then I can buy you a coffee to make up for the shit stuff I make."

Your face dropped instantly as you looked up at Peña, seeing the way his eyes wouldn't make their ways to look into yours. You had known Peña long enough to know he wasn't a nervous man, especially not with you or women in general. In fact, sometimes he was too cocky for his own good. "Holy shit." you muttered.

Javier finally looked at you and raised an eyebrow at your shocked expression. "What?"

"Are you asking me on a date?" you dumbly said, not even trying to stop your mouth from saying the question in your mind.

Javier's tongue peeked out as he licked at his lips nervously, hands slipping away from your desk and landing on his hips as he straightened up. "Yeah. I am."

Holy shit. You were dumbfounded, shocked, absolutely 1000% floored. Peña was a flirt and had said his fair share of words to you but you assumed that was just who he was. You had seen him do the same to plenty of other women around the office alone. Not once in your head had the thought of Peña ever asking you on a date even crossed your mind. It seemed like a down right impossibility. He wasn't a 'go on a coffee date' type of guy. He was the 'stop at a brothel and have mindless sex with a woman whose name I barely know' type of guy. You couldn't even begin to imagine Peña on a date. The mere thought of him sitting with a woman at a coffee shop and making that small talk everybody had at a date and then driving them home made you nearly laugh in surprise. While you had come to appreciate the quirks of Peñas personality, he was an asshole normally and everything happening right now was so bizaree. His nervousness and the way his eyes were avoiding yours and asking you on a date?

"This is a joke, right?" you asked.

Javier let out a small chuckle, but not his usually one. This sounded uncomfortable and strangled. "Way to soften the blow, hermosa." he tried to respond as sarcastically as possible but you saw in between the cracks.

"You are serious?"

"Why do you sound so surprised?" Peña asked, a hint of annoyance peaking through as he examined your astonished figure.

You let out an odd laugh of your own, even snorting. You couldn't comprehend how he didn't understand how bizarre this was. Or maybe he did and just wanted to hear it from your mouth. "Peña, you just asked a woman on a date."

"And apparently did a shit job at it." Peña countered back, the wrinkles on his forehead more apparent as he scrunched his brows together.

"When was the last time you even asked a woman on a date?" you inquired.

"Why does this matter?" Peña asked, one hand being thrown up in confusion before landing back on his hip.

"Because never once in my days did I think I would see the day Javier Peña asked a woman on a date." You couldn't help the giggle that left your lips, partially because you were uncomfortable and didn't know what to do but also because this whole situation seemed like some kind of fever dream.

"Glad this is so funny to you." Peña scowled, turning back to his desk.

You bit your lip, trying to think of something to say. "You did a pretty good job actually. Good transition with the coffee and stuff." you offered, trying to lighten the mood and tension in the room.

"Then why didn't you say yes?" Javier asked, turning back to you as he sat on the edge of his desk.

You paused. You didn't say yes initially because you were too shocked to but there were probably a million reasons to not say yes.

You weren't dumb. Javier Peña was stupidly attractive. It was no wonder ever woman swooned over him. And the hair and slightly unbuttoned shirts certainly didn't help. And while many women would probably jump at the chance of a date with the infamous DEA agent just based off looks alone (and his 'sex god' reputation), you had come to admire the other things about him. His dedication and his how no matter how hard he tried to hide it, his compassion somehow always came through. There was plenty to admire about the man.

But there were also so many things that made a date with Javier Peña potentially a very bad idea. He was your co-worker first of all and while you weren't sure if it was necessarily forbidden, it wasn't something you should jump into. Being in this field was hard enough, you didn't need everybody thinking you had gotten where you were because you were jumping the bones of your co-workers. There was also the fact that Javier was the exact opposite of a relationship man. He was practically the epitome of a bachelor. His primary hobbies consisted of drinking and visiting brothels, blowing off steam with a woman withering under him. He was also so closed off sometimes. He kept everything so buried and so hidden and it was impossible to reach him.

"You do realize what a date is, right?" you asked gently.

Javier rolled his eyes. "Believe it or not, but I am very aware."

"And that you are asking me on a date. A date where we would go get coffee in a public place and talk and the main goal shouldn't be to get me in bed afterwards."

"Jesus Christ! I'm not trying to sleep with you!" Peña cried out, throwing his hands up.

"Well, excuse me but you have quite the reputation for being a bit of a man-whore asshole!" you shouted back, feeling the emotion and tension bubble up in you.

Peña dropped his head, looking down at his feet and letting out a long, drawn-out sigh. "I have... feelings for you."

He seemed to say the words begrudgingly, like there was anything he would rather do than have to talk about his feelings after practically getting rejected by a woman who he asked on a date (which he hadn't done in years).

Your mouth kept opening and closing, trying to conjure something to say but finding yourself unable to. if you thought the idea of Javier asking someone on a date unfathomable, then you were just absolutely flabbergasted by the idea of Javier having a crush on someone. You finally closed your eyes and took in a deep breath. "I don't...understand."

"I thought it was pretty obvious." Peña responded, shrugging his shoulders slightly as he slowly looked up at you.

You stared back into his brown eyes and let out an exhausted snigger. "No, it wasn't. Hence my reaction."

Peña pushed himself off his desk, strolling towards your desk and looking down at where you still sat. His brown eyes looked softer than you had ever seen them and it made the breathe in your throat hitch. "Listen, I am an asshole-"

"You really know how to see yourself, Javier." You cursed yourself for your habit of making jokes when you were uncomfortable as Javier looked back at you plainly. "Sorry..."

"I don't want to be an asshole when I am around you. I want to be better... for you. You make me think maybe I could be an okay guy." Javier offered.

You tried to ignore the way your heart had begun racing and the way your skin seemed to heat up slightly. You placed both your hands on the arm of your chair, trying to keep them busy so you didn't nervously twiddle your thumbs. "Alright, well that was kind of sweet in a weird way..."

Javier finally let out a small chuckle and you smiled at the noise, glad to feel a bit of the tension dissipate. "I know I'm a piece of shit and not boyfriend material or anything like that but... just one date. Let me buy you a cup of coffee."

You felt the corner of your lip quirk up into a small smile. "I'm not sleeping with you no matter how charming you are."

"We will save that for the third date then." Javier joked and you let out a small gasp.

"Bold of you to assume we will make it to a third date." You jested, giving him a teasing grin.

"It took me months to finally ask you out so this better work for me."

You leaned back. "Months?"

"Shut up." Javier huffed back as soon as he saw the smile on your face.

"Has the Javier Peña been pining for me for months?" You meant it as a joke but when his face softened and he looked back at you, you tried your best to wipe the smile off your face.

"It's... been awhile." Javier looked at the way you expectantly looked back at him and sighed. "Since the Christmas party."

Your jaw dropped. Steve had insisted on inviting you and Javier to what he described as a Christmas party Connie had set up but when you showed up, it was just the four of you. Murphy joked around, saying he didn't have many friends. But you didn't mind. It was one of the first times you had seen Peña out of the office and he seemed relatively relaxed for the first time you had seen him. You had both sat on the same couch together, across from the Murphys and every once in a while you two would whisper teasing jokes to each other about Steve. You thought back to the night and remembered how he had insisted on pouring your drinks for you and had probably been sat a little too close, his thigh nearly grazing yours. How his gaze had lingered on yours because it was the first time he had seen you wear something other than office clothes and shit, how did you somehow look even better? How he had insisted on driving you home once he realized you had walked there, saying it was because you shouldn't be walking around in the dark but also because he just wanted to spend more time with you, even if it was only a few more minutes.

"Javier, that was months ago."

Javier slowly nodded. "Yeah. I tried to at your birthday dinner."

That had been another thing that had been planned by Connie and Murphy had required you guys come to. You honestly didn't even know they knew when your birthday was, never once mentioning it because birthdays weren't your thing. But Murphy had somehow found out but you didn't mind. It was only a dinner with you four and some drinks, no big party and nobody made a big deal with it. The Murphy's had bought you a present despite you saying you hated receiving gifts.

Once again, Javier had insisted on driving you home and this time walked you to your door. You thought that would be it until he handed you a gift. Your watch had been broken and you needed a new one but had been too busy to get one so Javier had taken the liberty of doing so. You remember him insisting you open it when he was gone and not thank him for it. He had seemed a little off that day but you had thought it was just the drinks getting to him a little. He lingered and you both spoke about work until he eventually drifted away.

"Holy shit, Peña." you muttered, feeling the weight of the watch on your wrist even more.

"It doesn't matter." he huffed.

"It does to me." you softly said. Javier only sent a small glance your way and you gave him a smile before turning back down to your paperwork. "Pick me up on Friday."

You didn't look up to see the smile on Javier's face as he made his way back to his desk. "Yes ma'am."

#request #javier peña #narcos #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #javier peña imagine #pedro pascal #javier peña one shot #javier pena one shot #javier peña blurb #javier pena blurb #javier peña x f!reader #javier pena x f!reader #narcos fanfiction #narcos imagine #soft!javi

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elysianslove · 4 years ago

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hehe hello again !!! if you get to it, maybe 45 from hand holding + mattsun? m so in love with how you write him it seriously holds a special place in my heart, thank u loads loads in advance ! <33

hi hi hi!!! still not over what you wrote for me for samu it was so :(( i loved it so much so like thank you genuinely. much needed <3 and yes ofc i’d love to!! hope you like it mwah <3

more soft issei for the dash yay !

45. comparing hand sizes, then linking fingers together with matsukawa issei <3

full prompt list!

the most defeated issei has ever felt is not with every loss he’s faced with his team, but neither was it a bad grade stamped on a paper, nor a bad day worsening with every hour. it’s the very moment he had sighed and painfully accepted the fact that he has a crush on you.

it’s infuriating, really, to put a label on it. at first he thought it was basic attraction— he liked your smile and he liked the way the school uniform hugged your figure and the way you twisted your hair between your fingers as your palm cupped your chin in class. it seemed to be just that, physical attraction, because he liked the feel of your body whenever you hugged him and he liked staring at the pictures you posted for a little too long. naturally, his body would react whenever you touched him, whenever you wore something a little special, whenever you made sure your lips were as red as cherries. he could live with that.

however, he could not live with the fact that he now craved to hear your laugh and that you were the one person he looked forward to seeing in the day. he could not live with knowing your smile was the last thing he thought of before bed and your notification was the first he searches for in the morning. his ears perk up at the mention of your name, his heart rate spikes at the sound of your voice. your touch alone is no longer the only thing that reddens his face and twists his tummy. it’s quite literally everything that you do, and it’s exasperating, genuinely.

he knows he’s in deep shit when someone points out a flaw that he could see as nothing else but a virtue of yours. how the hell could he see absolutely nothing wrong with you? nothing!

acceptance was delayed only because he knew there would be no turning back once he had admitted it to himself. it had been a long night of contemplation, of deciding whether he really liked you or he just found you attractive or he happened to enjoy your company or liked the attention you gave him— until he had asked himself a simple question.

would he want to kiss you?

and when he dreamt of your pretty lips on his, he woke up and buried his face in his pillow, screaming in frustration.

having a crush on you meant a lot of things, but most significantly, it meant not being able to sit by your side without feeling every inch of your presence by him. even if his eyes are on the textbook before him, he can still hear every noise you make, from the quietest sighs to the loudest groans of frustration. he can still make out every tiny movement you make, from the shake of your leg and the crack of your knuckles to the bite of your lip. he’s so hyperaware of you it drives him fucking insane.

tapping the pen against his book, he tries to focus on the questions before him, attempting to make proper use of the free period he had instead of leaving all his work to the last minute, as per usual. it’s unfortunate that it just so happened you share that same free period with him. or fortunate. he can’t decide.

“issei,” you gasp out lowly halfway through the class, and he struggles to not lose himself in the way his name sits so perfect on your tongue. instead, he hums, twisting his head to acknowledge you. once you have his attention, you continue and say, “your hands are so big.”

issei’s brows furrow, and he takes a moment to process (while trying not to think about the fact that you had been looking at his hands. why were you looking at his hands? were they not appealing? were they appealing?) before glancing down at his hand, and then at yours. “think yours are just small, doll,” he retorts, and you scoff.

“no, can’t be,” you disagree. the pen in your hand drops as you sigh, fidgeting in your seat till your body’s twisted to face him, one leg lifted and crossed on the chair. “look,” you add, and lift up your hand.

a question mark blooms in his brain. what did— you want him to do, exactly?

at the obvious confusion written across his features, you sigh, fixing him with a faux unimpressed stare, before reaching over to grab at his wrist. his skin burns where your hand touches him, and as you position his hand to lift it up straight, as if he were about to high five you, every single part of it goes numb. even as you let go, the feeling of you is imprinted and issei’s praying to anything holy that will listen that his face isn’t reddening as deep as he thinks it is.

after his hand is up the way you want it, your own reaches out again, and you press your palm against his. your hands are noticeably smaller, fingertips significantly lower than his, meeting just above where the lower lines locating the knuckles on his fingers were. your palm is also generally much smaller, and he thinks about how easily his hand could just make yours disappear so easy if he curled it into a fist.

so fucking cute, holy shit.

he’s going to die. this is how he goes. heart rate spiking to the point of death because his ridiculously cute crush thought comparing hand sizes would be a good idea.

“see?” you say, and issei’s blown away with how unaffected you seem to be. he really doesn’t think he can formulate a proper sentence at the moment. “your hands are big.”

“nah,” he finally manages, and does the unthinkable — before he can think it through properly, his fingers bend, curling in on the gaps between yours, before interlocking your hand with his. he was right: your hand is nearly swallowed by his. “yours are just tiny.”

he wants to say that you’re gawking, but you recover so quick he can barely believe it himself. “your hands are— warm, too,” you point out, fingers still locked with his as they lower and fall to between you. “are they always warm?”

his breathing is uneven as he attempts a nonchalant shrug, replying, “i’m not sure.”

you don’t speak anymore, neither do you look at him, eyes fixated below on where your hands are locked with his. with sudden movement, you twist on your chair, turning to face your book once more. it’s a little awkward, the position, and his wrist slightly aches, but he doesn’t want to be the first one to let go, not when you haven’t yet.

for a few moments, you stay like that, arm angled as weird as his, but eventually, inevitably, you unlink your fingers, shaking his grasp off. his heart sinks disappointingly for a second, until, without sparing him a glance, your hand reaches for his again, and you intertwine your hands once more, this time a lot more comfortably.

when his heart dances in his throat the way it always does around you, he accepts it with a lot more ease.

#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa fluff #mattsun x reader #mattsun fluff #matsukawa issei x reader #matsukawa issei fluff #sal’s fluff tag <3

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f1nalboys · 3 years ago

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Hi, I have been reading your blogs and love it! It's so nice to find someone who loves slashers too haha. If it's not a bother, I'd like to make a request. With The Lost Boys where the reader ends up stopping in the TLB movie universe. She gets confused at first but quickly recognizes everything, especially the boys. That being the case, she tries to help them by warning about the frog brothers. How would they react? Sorry if it got confusing lol.

hi there!! so sorry for the long wait but i really enjoyed writing this request!! I hope you enjoy it :)

WARNINGS: none

WORD COUNT: Approx. 1460

You had never been more confused before in your life. One minute you were in bed, half asleep, scrolling for a video to watch on your phone and the next you’re laying on the beach. You were sitting in the sand now, looking around trying to figure out 1. Where the hell you were and 2. Why the hell you were here.

There was a boardwalk just behind you and it was absolutely bustling with people. Most were dressed… differently than you were used to, but that’s not what made you freak out. It was turning to your left and seeing the Santa Carla welcome sign. Santa Carla. There’s no way you were here, right? It had to be a dream.

The sound of yelling caught your attention and you nearly shit yourself at the sight in front of you: four men in familiar clothing arguing with a beefy motorcycle man. One had platinum blonde hair, bordering on white, and he was smoking a cigarette with a smug look on his sharp features. Directly to his right was a taller, long-haired man with no shirt but a leather jacket on.

Holy shit. You blink your eyes hard, pinching yourself hard on the arm until the skin began to throb. You weren’t waking up. This wasn’t a dream, or, at least, wasn’t one you were waking up from. You stand, extremely aware of how differently you were dressed compared to the people around you, and you make your way towards the men. They had finished arguing with the man and were now standing around talking to one another.

“Hey!” You call, instantly slapping yourself in your mind. ‘Hey?’ Why would you try and get their attention anyways? The four turn towards you and you watch as David, because the closer you get the more you realize this was real, cocks an eyebrow at you. Paul and Marko were whispering to each other, large grins plastered onto their faces, while Dwayne watched you walk towards them silently.

“Do we know you?” David asks, his voice having an edge to it. You gulp, your heartbeat picking up speed and David grins at you. He could hear it. He takes a step towards you, closing the gap, and the others follow suit. They walk circles around you like a lion waiting to pounce on the injured gazelle. “I don’t think we do. I’m D-”

“David, I know. You’re Marko, Paul, and Dwayne.” You say, your voice much more confident than you actually were. David's grin drops instantly, his eyebrows scrunching together. He takes another drag from his cigarette, dropping it and stamping it out with his foot as he glances you up and down.

“How the hell do you know that?” Marko asks though it seems he’s more curious than angry. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to figure out the best way to tell them that wouldn’t make you sound crazy, but nothing came up.

David’s hand outstretches and grabs ahold of your chin, gripping it tightly and forcing you to look at him. His eyes darken. “He asked you a question.”

“It’s a long story and it won’t make sense to you, honestly. I’ll tell you if you let me go.” You bargain and thankfully David obliges. He drops his hand to his side and raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to talk. You take a look at the other three men who were all waiting with various levels of annoyance and intrigue. You sigh.

Almost three hours of talking and answering questions later, you were finally finished telling them what you knew. You were now at a random restaurant, sitting on one of the outdoor tables, picking at fries. They had oh so graciously bought them for you halfway through your story which seemed to be draining their energy.

“So, let me see if I’m understanding you correctly. You’re telling us that you’re not from here and are instead from a place where we are… in a movie? And that it talks about us being… ya’ know?” You nod. David was on his fifth cigarette now and looked genuinely confused. “None of this makes sense.”

“Yeah, but I’m just telling you what I know,” You say, popping a fry into your mouth. Marko was absolutely riveted by your story and he had continued to interject, asking questions or correcting small details of what you said. Paul looked confused but you came to learn that was just his resting face.

“So… what now?” Dwayne asks, leaning over and grabbing a fry from your tray. He had been quiet this entire time, only speaking to tell Marko and Paul to shut up so he could hear you. You shrug. It’s not an everyday thing for you to get transported into one of your favorite movies and have to talk to the four people you had a crush on since the first time you ever watched the film.

“Maybe you got put here to tell us something… maybe warn us? This is awesome! It’s like that ‘Back to the Future’ movie or something,” Paul says and Marko nods excitedly. Dwayne seems to consider this and shrugs. David is the only one who doesn’t seem fully convinced.

“Who’s the head vampire?”

“Max.”

“... You’re right,” David says, displeased. He takes a swig of his now-warm beer and grimaces slightly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He kept staring at you, trying to figure you out and it was really starting to get to you. Sure you had always day-dreamt about staring into those icy-blue and green eyes but it was a completely different story now that he was doing so in a not-so-friendly way.

Marko throws an arm over David's shoulder and shakes him a bit, trying to get him to smile. “Come on, Dave! This is cool!” He turns to you once again and leans in close. You catch a whiff of his scent which was practically intoxicating; sea salt, hair gel, and nail polish. “So, how does the movie end?”

“Uhh… not that great, at least for you guys.” You say, grimacing at their expressions. You did not think this through. “You guys and Max kinda get killed…”

“Killed? By who?” Dwayne asks, his eyes narrowing slightly. Even though he didn’t believe you fully, you knew far too much about them for him to completely blow you off.

“Michael. Well, Michael, his brother, the frog brothers, and Star.” Their faces contort at the names and you realize that you may have gotten here before any of them had met the others. “You don’t know who I’m talking about, do you?”

“Star, yeah, but we just met her yesterday. Haven’t gotten her back to our place. Who the hell are the frog brothers?” Paul asks and, right on time, two boys sprint past your table, comics in hand, cursing at whoever they were running after. One was in a camo shirt and a red bandana tied around his forehead while the other wore a grey sleeveless shirt.

“That’s the frog brothers.” The four men pause before erupting into laughter. Those two losers had a part in their deaths? Yeah, right. “Seriously; they know about vampires and they’re the reason you four get caught. Just… try and steer clear of those people, alright? And if you haven’t turned Laddie yet, don’t.”

You scrunch your eyes in pain as your head begins to throb. You can hear the four men in front of you talking but you can’t make any of it out. A buzzing sound fills your head and your hands find a place over your ears, trying to stop the pain that has erupted in your brain. Right as you think your head is about to explode the noise stops.

Your eyes opened and you’re no longer on the boardwalk. You were in bed, a random video playing on your phone. It was considerably darker outside now and if you really concentrated you could almost smell the cigarette smoke that had been wafting around you for the last few hours. Smiling, you turn your phone off and curl into bed. That was the most realistic dream you’ve had yet.

Back in Santa Carla, the boys were still seated at the boardwalk, gaping at your now empty chair. One second you were there and the next you were gone. David hadn’t taken his eyes off of you and yet you had vanished.

“Huh. I think we should go talk to Max,” Marko says, standing up. Paul and Dwayne nod, standing as well, but David stays sitting. His eyes were still on your chair. Dwayne places a hand on his friend's shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

#s1mping4slashers masterlist #s1mping4slashers answers #s1mping4slashers works #s1mping4slashers writing #anon req #the lost boys #paul the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #david the lost boys #marko the lost boys #david tlb #marko tlb #dwayne tlb #paul tlb #slasher oneshot

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multiplefandomfics · 3 years ago

Text

Vacation

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Virgin!PlusSize!reader

Warnings: self consciousness, unprotected smut, authority kink, daddy kink, angst, fluff

Words:3295

You were sitting in a bar somewhere in Croatia. Frustrated about the turn of recent events.

The trip was supposed to be about you and your friends. Just enjoying the sun and ocean. No boys allowed! But then on the 2nd evening your friends had abandoned you at the bar to go clubbing with some boys from spain. Fan-fucking-tastic, you thought.

There went your nice all girls vacation. The way you knew your friends you weren't going to see them for a while.

Just as you were about to pay your tab and leave, someone sat down next to you and started talking. “Hi, sweetheart. You alone here?” he didn’t say much but you recognized that voice immediately. Your head snapped upwards and your eyes widened. Of all the people you would have never expected him there. Sebastian Stan. The man of your wet dreams.

You fumbled your phone out of your purse and unlocked the screen. Yep, he was definitely the man from your wallpaper.

“You okay there?” he asked, smiling before his eyes fell on your background picture.

“Oh, so you know me.” he figured.

“Ehm, yeah, yeah I do. Holy shit you’re even more beautiful in person.” you swooned.

He laughed heartily at that and ordered you and himself another drink.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you with your girlfriend on vacation? Sorry if I give off stalker vibes” you turned red faced.

“That’s a long story but to cut to the chase, I don’t have a girlfriend anymore.” his face turned slightly sour at the thought of his ex.

“Oh, I’m genuinely sorry to hear that. She seemed to make you happy.”

“Well, she did. But not anymore. So enough of her, what’s your name and what are you doing here?” He changed the topic.

“How rude of me, my name is Y/N and I was initially here to have a nice week with my girls. But now they've abandoned me in favor of some guys. So I decided to have a few drinks by myself and then go back to the house we rented.” you let all your frustration out.

“Wow, that sounds terrible. But the night doesn’t have to end like this. Would you like to dance?” he asked friendly.

“I can’t dance.” you objected.

“I’ll lead you, come on.” he paid for both of your drinks and then held out his hand for you to take. And how could you say no to that face?

“Alright. Let’s do this. And thanks for the drinks but you didn’t need to pay for me.” you told him.

“I know. You look like you could hold your own but I simply wanted to pay.” he grinned and you accepted his answer.

He pulled you onto the kinda crowded dance floor and guided your hands on his shoulders. Then he guided your clumsy body to the beat and soon it started to be real funny.

“Okay, that was fun but I need a break. And preferably some fresh air.” you yelled over the music out of breath.

He understood and took you outside in front of the bar and a bit away from the entrance where the smokers stood.

“See I told you if you ease into things and give me a chance I can make this a night you won’t forget.” he grinned, mischievously.

“A bit cheeky aren’t we?” you tried to play his game but his advances made you a bit uncomfortable to say the least.

The thing was, you didn’t decide on a men free vacation with your friends because you wanted to get a break from all the guys pursuing you at home but because your friends were constantly surrounded by guys and only talked about their experiences with the opposite sex and that reminded you of how inexperienced you were.

You had always been self conscious. Your girl friends were always tall and skinny or at least of normal weight and could wear all the trendiest clothes but you could not shop for nice wearables so easily. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, when you went out with your friends and you had really given your look everything, still they were advanced by men and you weren’t. It was frustrating.

That brought you back to the situation at hand- why did Sebastian Stan, Hollywood hottie, decide to pick you out of all these beautiful girls at the bar? It was a riddle to you.

“Can I ask you something?” you hesitantly asked.

“Anything.” he smiled.

“Why did you want to talk to me?”

The hurt in your eyes told him that you were genuinely interested in an honest answer.

“Because you seemed lonely and so am I. Also you are beautiful and now I know that you are kind and funny, too. You are perfect.” you couldn’t believe that.

“Are you serious? Me? Perfect? You have gotta be kidding me!” you scoffed.

“Why would I? In you I see something permanent. Something that could develop into more. What do you see?” he asked, concerned.

“I don’t know. I just have never heard that I am beautiful from a man before.” you looked down, embarrassed.

“You can’t be serious! What kind of stupid idiots have you met in your life before?” he asked, astonished.

“The kind that wants a model type by their side. Just the kind of arm candy you should have by yours too. Not a chubby girl like me. I’m sorry I wasted your time.” you had to hold back tears at your confession and wanted to turn around to leave. But he grabbed your arm and forced you to look at him. “Hey, don’t go. I meant what I said. I am sorry that you have only been hurt by men so far but I promise I’m not like that. You can rely on me. I really want to get to know you. Let me take you home and we watch a movie or something? It’s only 10pm. No strings attached.” he offered.

That did sound like a dream and you decided quickly that you had nothing to lose if you said yes.

“Okay. The house is right up that hill and behind that little bit of forest.” you informed him.

He offered his arm, gentlemen like and you took it.

“So where are you from when you are on vacation here at the moment?” he asked to make smalltalk.

“I’m from Germany.”

“Impossible! I heard Germans speak English and they have a strong accent. You have barely an accent and I would have placed you closer to the states.” he was surprised.

“I hear that a lot actually. But I have never been to the US. I just watch a lot of movies and TV shows in English. And I read books in English too.” you smiled bashfully.

“That’s amazing. I think I have a stronger european accent than you do and I’ve lived in the US since I was 12.” he laughed.

“Well, English is my comfort language so I’m always happy when I can use it.” you said nonchalantly.

“Marvelous. You’re amazing.” he complimented.

“Oh, stop it.” you turned red.

“I’m only saying what's true.”

“You’re too kind.”

You walked uphill towards the small wood you had to cross, in the dark. Great idea!

He walked pretty fast and you had to almost jog to keep up with him which made you sweat and got you terribly out of breath.

When the trees around you got thicker and it got even darker it happened. You stepped on a rock, it rolled to the side and you twisted your ankle.

“Shit! Ouch!” you exclaimed loudly.

“What happened?” he asked scared.

“Twisted my ankle. It’s just too fucking dark.” you were angry at yourself for being so stupid.

“Damn. Can you step on your foot?” he asked.

“I don’t know. But what other options do we have? I gotta try.”

You stepped from your left foot onto your right and it buckled beneath you under the pain. “Fuck!”

“Okay that won’t work.” he stated and the next second he just picked you up bridal style and started to carry you on.

“Are you crazy? Let me down. I’m definitely too heavy to carry.” you ordered him.

“No, you are not. And when you try to hobble home we won’t make it until sunrise. So now shut up and let me carry you.” he silenced you efficiently.

“But take a break if you need to, and you will need one eventually.” you mumbled.

The rest of the way you held onto him and buried your face in his neck. Damn, did he smell good. It almost made you moan.

When you arrived at the door he didn’t let you down as you would have expected him to, no, he grabbed the keys from your hands, opened the door and carried you into the living room to lay you down on the couch.

“Thank you Sebastian. You are so kind. What can I ever do to repay you?” you asked him.

“Hmm, maybe let me kiss you?” he suggested and you had to swallow nervously. He immediately picked up on your hesitation “Only if you want to of course.”

“Sure I want to, but… I have never kissed anyone before.” you averted your eyes in embarrassment.

“Then let me change that, please.” he begged. You saw no resentment or reproach in his beautifully blue eyes.

Of course you caved and nodded your consent.

He leaned closer to your crouched form on the couch, put his hand on your thigh and brushed his lips to yours.

The kiss was sweet and careful not to startle you or demand something from you that you could feel uncomfortable with.

“So how was your first kiss?” he asked and smiled.

“Very nice.” you looked blissed out at him. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. I would really love to do that again.”

“Please do.” you confirmed.

Oh and he did. The kiss was magical. This time he pushed his tongue sensually into your mouth and you were stunned how good that felt.

“You okay?” he wanted to know afterwards.

“More than okay. I’m happy you picked me at the bar. Usually they say “never meet your heroes” but with you that’s different.”

“Thanks,doll. That means a lot to me.” he leaned in and kissed your neck.

At the mention of that particular nickname your posture stiffened. He noticed.

“What’s wrong? Did I say something?”

“Ehm, well … you know I haven’t only had a crush on you but also on Bucky… maybe.” you whispered.

At first he seemed confused as to where this confession suddenly came from but then it clicked.

“It’s the nickname. I called you doll.” he laughed. “I didn’t even register that I got that from him. But if it turns you on I will keep using it.” that grin could win you over any day.

“I could get used to it actually. I never would have imagined someone calling me that. But you make it sound so hot. Thanks for making me feel good.”

“Anytime, doll.” he kissed you again.

“By the way, didn’t we wanna watch a movie?” you suddenly asked.

“Yes, of course. Do they have Netflix or something on here?” did he wanna know.

“Disney+. And with it all the Marvel Movies.” you winked at him.

“Anything you want, doll.” he kept using that nickname over and over but you loved it.

“Which one have you not seen yet?”

“I think I’ve actually seen them all. Which one is your favorite?”

“I love the ones you’re in the most.” you confessed.

“Okay, close your eyes and I’ll pick your favorite one.” he suggested.

“Alright. Let’s give it a try.” you agreed.

When you were allowed to open your eyes again you saw the opening credits of a Marvel movie flashing. You recognized the first scene: The Washington Monument and a very exhausted looking Sam Wilson and you heard “on your left” which made you smile. He knew then that he had picked the right movie.

“Good choice.” you praised him.

Then you cuddled up to him and he put his arm around you.

Although you were pretty tired after about half the movie you could not skip over one second of that glorious movie.

“You know- the Winter Soldier is kinda hot. So determined and dominant.” You slurred when you saw him walk down that car after he jumped from the bridge.

“You think so? You like to be dominated? Controlled? Called names? Maybe tied up and used?” he growled into your ear.

“Fuck.” you whimpered and clenched your thighs.

“You like the thought of that don’t you?” he bit into your earlobe.

You nodded furiously.

“Use your words babygirl.”

“Yes, sir.” you said.

“So, an authority kink is there too. And here I thought you were so innocent.” he pushed.

“How can you be innocent when you read fanfiction almost every day?” you quipped.

“Fanfiction, huh? Can you show me examples so I can paint myself a picture?” he asked.

You took your phone out and opened Tumblr. Then you searched for your favorite Bucky fanfic with all the kinks you enjoyed and handed the phone to him.

He read with interest and you studied his facial expressions, smirking when you saw reactions to certain parts you had expected to come.

“So that’s the kind of naughty literature you enjoy alone in your bed, touching yourself maybe.” he growled.

“Yes, sir. The imagination of what you could do to me makes me so wet.” you bit your lip seductively.

Suddenly you were in a flow. All the insecurities about your body and weight were gone. Only him and your sexual fantasies existed in the moment.

“Fuck baby.” he moaned and grabbed your hand to push it onto his growing bulge. “Feel what you do to me, doll?”

“So hot.” you moaned back and felt the urge to take charge. So you got onto your knees and sat in his lap grinding down on him.

Before anything could go further he stopped you and whispered “if at any point you want to stop or feel uncomfortable or I’m doing something you are not ready for or don’t like, tell me and we will stop immediately. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sebastian. I understand. Thanks.”

And so it continued. Grinding and kissing. Until he suddenly stood up abruptly holding you close. “I’m not taking your virginity on this couch. Where is your bedroom?”

He was so considerate “upstairs and then the last door on the right.”

He carried you to the room, carefully laying you down on the bed so as to not disturb your injured foot.

When he unbuttoned the button down he was wearing and took it off you were already drooling.

“Let me undress you, darling. Turn around so I can unzip your dress. Which is beautiful by the way.” he suggested and winked.

You did as he told you and soon felt your dress falling off your shoulders. He helped you pull it over your head and left you in your bra, chub rub shorts and panties.

A little embarrassed at the shorts you looked to the side. But you couldn’t go out in a dress without wearing any type of pants underneath.

“You are so sexy, baby.” he did everything to make you feel comfortable and you started to believe him.

“May I?” he motioned for your bra and you nodded your consent.

Next he took off his jeans and the realization of what was to come started to seep into your mind.

“You still okay with this?” he made sure.

“Yes. I want this Sebastian. I really do. I trust you” you assured him.

So he proceeded with the rest of your clothes and lastly his boxer shorts.

The whole time he kept kissing you hungrily. When he crawled on top of you and you had that skin on skin contact you had never felt so safe with anyone before.

“I gotta prep you before we go all the way, alright? Don’t wanna hurt you, doll.” he whispered between kisses.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, promise.”

“Please.” you begged.

That’s when he scooted down your body, kissing every inch of skin he could reach. The next thing you felt was him placing a kiss on your mound, and then his tongue poking out starting to flick your clit. He pushed your legs further apart to gain better access.

“Fuck, feels so good.” you moaned just when he inserted one finger into your tight pussy. “Oh, my gosh. Don’t stop.” you begged him.

“I won’t” he mumbled and kept attacking your clit.

“‘m so close.”

“Come for me baby. Come now.” That command was the last straw which brought you to orgasm.

Breathlessly you smiled down at him and he smiled right back at you.

“You up for more?” he needed the confirmation that you were alright.

“Yes, sir. Now I don’t know why I have never done this before. I don’t ever want you to stop again.” At that statement he laughed heartily.

“Then let’s start, shall we?” he kept kissing over your belly, up to your breasts, licked your nipples and sucked hickies onto your neck.

“Ready?”

“Can you just fuck me already?” you asked annoyed.

“Someones being needy.” he joked and finally penetrated your pussy.

“Oh, fuck. So big. Hmmm. deep. Shit.” you were already reduced to a mumbling mess.

“Such a tight fit. You feel amazing.” he buried his head into your neck.

And then he started to move. Slowly at first but picked up speed rapidly. He hit spots inside you that your favorite vibrator was never able to get.

End then something you never wanted anyone to hear slipped your mouth “Fuck, daddy. Harderr!” and suddenly he stopped completely and you mewled disappointed until you realized what you had said. You opened your eyes to see his reaction.

You expected him to be disgusted but all you could see was a hunger. He looked like a predator who finally caught his prey.

“Say that again!” he growled. That statement of his made a surge of pride and confidence rush through you.

You bit your lip mischievously and said “Please, daddy. Fuck me harder.” and he immediately snapped.

He pistoned his hips forward, hitting your cervix over and over until you were so desperately close.

“You’re about to come, aren’t you? I can feel your pussy squeezing me, doll. Alright I’m gonna count down and I want you to come with me. Understood”

“Yes, daddy please… need to come… so bad.”

“Five..” deep thrust. “Four…” nip to the collarbone. “Three…” you clawed at his back. “Two…” you tried your hardest not to come and closed your eyes. “Look at me babygirl..” so you opened your eyes. “One… Come” and the dam broke. You had never come so hard in your life. No toy could ever make you feel the way this man did. Your quivering cunt made him come so hard. When he rolled off you he was breathing just as heavy as you were. The only noise you heard was your rapid heartbeat and blood rushing in your ears.

“That was amazing. We definitely need to do that again” you said.

“Oh yes. Anytime.”

The next week flew by so quickly and you two spent most of it in bed. You decided that your lives needed to be lived together so the next chance you got you would be moving in with him. Sometimes dreams do come true!

#marvel #mcu #sebastian stan #buckybarnes #reader insert #smut #fluff #fanfic

81 notes · View notes

boimgfrog · 4 years ago

Text

THE LONG AWAITED MATCHABLOSSOM LONG FIC REC LIST:

Kaoru pining momence:

Long-Lasting Husband Material

15k words

Summary: A fact about Kojiro Nanjo and his soft, big heart; he was in love with his best friend. And he was an adult, so admitting that was so much more embarrassing than it should be.

It didn’t help that he had been feeling this way for fifteen whole years.

Kaoru had to double-check his brain. Yup, he definitely put the words ‘Kojiro’ and ‘Husband’ together in a sentence. His brain put the words together and they fit. The words fit better than any puzzle Kaoru had ever solved. What.

Or, the one where Joe is the perfect husband material and Cherry only realizes that after getting smacked in the head with a longboard.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

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Cherry realizes he's been pining for years and then can't stop realizing it. When I tell you this fic made me so fucking happy- I'm a big fan of hurt/comfort but this fic is just comfort. The ending will make you feel so held.

the brightest shade of sun

Summary: Kojiro's looking at him in that funny way again, exasperated but fond. "Nah," he says, easily. "I just saw you."

12k words

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

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summary's vague as hell but!! Kojiro and Kaoru move in together, and Kaoru realizes. hm. maybe he's a bit dependent on his friend. and hm. maybe he's also a little bit in love too. Honestly, the little moments and details between them really make this fic 10/10. just. gosh it's so good.

Kojiro pining momence:

The inevitability of falling in love

Summary: There are things that are inevitable in life, for Nanjo Kojiro it's that he will fall in love with Kaoru.

Or,

Kojiro falls in love with Kaoru and then just keeps falling in love

14k words

Rating: Mature

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Joe falling in love with Cherry and then just. pines for years. fuck I love him. there are so many good scenes in this one, a couple that made me genuinely tear up, 10/10

falling for you

Summary: You know what they say: the best way to figure out that you’re in love with your best friend is to watch them fall in love with someone else.

(Alternatively: Kaoru’s got a crush, Kojiro’s got a crush, and it all goes wrong before it goes right.)

11k words

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

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teen Kojiro my beloved,, gosh this one is just really sweet.

An Ordinary Pain

Summary: Kojiro and Kaoru have had a lot of injuries and hurts over the years, but they always manage to take care of each other.

(or, h/c throughout the ages)

18k words

Rating: Explicit

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The true beauty of this fic lies in the subtleties in their interactions, the way the author described everything was just,, just so perfect.

Fics where Kojiro helps Kaoru move on/heal after Adam (tw for abusive relationships in all of them):

Hey Street Boy, Want Some Style?

- or-

Summary: Kaoru learned to skate to get away from the police.

Kojiro learned to skate to make sure Kaoru actually did.

from high school to present day, Kojiro and Kaoru grow up, mess up, and eventually figure their shit out

38k words

Rating: Explicit

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DEAR GOD. This one is just so beautifully written??? like holy fucking shit. I read it in an afternoon and spent the rest of the night thinking about it.

Divinity

Summary: “I don’t need anyone,” Kaoru whispers. He’s always been good at making bad decisions when it comes to Kojiro; this is another in a long line of failures and he’s not willing to admit yet that maybe Adam fucked him up past the point of no return. “It’s fine,” he mumbles when he hears Kojiro shifting. He’s too afraid to watch him walk away. “You can just go.”

And instead of leaving, Kojiro shuffles forward and hugs him. Kaoru is surrounded by impossibly gentle arms and the scent of pine, and though he’s used to the latter, he hasn’t been touched like this in a long, long time. “I’m not going to go,” Kojiro says softly. His face is buried in Kaoru’s shoulder, lips warm where they brush across his skin. “I’d say sorry, but I’m not, Kaoru. I don’t want to.”

11k words

Rating: Explicit

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this is another really good one, more smut focused than the first one, but like,, in a therapy way?? idk how to explain it but. fuck. yes.

C.E.E

Summary: After spending years in an abusive relationship, Cherry takes it upon himself to engage in what he describes as "corrective emotional experiences". When his safety is threatened during a hook up, he finds himself accepting Joe's offer of:

"Use me. Whatever you need to do, do it with me."

Can Cherry navigate the complicated dark feelings that have lingered for years while juggling (denied) feelings for Joe?

25k words

Rating: Explicit

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When I tell you I am obsessed. phew, okay, just the way the author writes Cherry?? The way the author writes Joe???? I swear nobody understands these characters better. like. fucking hell I simply cannot sing this fic's praises enough.

The 900

Summary: “You haven’t skated since your beef with Adam, have you?” Kojirou says, and Kaoru feels that brick fly right through his glass house.

10k words

Rating: Explicit

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This one is just *chefs kiss*. The dialogue is what really made it stand out to me, it's so in-character and realistic and I want to kiss the author on the mouth for it.

Misc:

Cookin’ like a chef (i’m a five star Michelin)

Summary: Kaoru was going to punch Kojiro if he didn’t stop laughing.

“I know what a bento is,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “I would like to know WHY there is a bento on my desk.”

A secret admirer starts to leave bento boxes on Kaoru’s desk in his senior year. He says he hates it, but after a while, it grows to be something he looks forward to every morning.

17k words

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

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Kaoru's POV in this is just. I mean it's everything to me, quite literally. The ending really got me, honestly, this whole fic is just lovely.

i've got these habits that i cannot break

Summary: miya puts on his most pitiful face and tucks himself into joe’s side. “my dads are getting divorced,” he says, trying to sound like the very subject of conversation puts him close to tears. he feels joe’s chest constrict, like he’s trying to hold in a reaction, and miya digs one of his nails into his friend's side. if joe laughs now, not only will miya commit homicide, but the victim will be one specific head chef.joe’s chest relaxes and he says, in the same sad tone as miya, “he was cheating on me with the head chef at his restaurant."

14k words

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

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This one had me dying- Miya playing matchmaker by forcing Joe and Cherry to be his fake dads. yes I know, I know, they'd be awful dads. I don't care, this fic is my favorite fucking thing.

#jay says a thing #matcha blossom #matchablossom #sk8 #joecherry #joe x cherry #these all slap tho like they all fuck so hard

259 notes · View notes

miyagihawk · 4 years ago

Note

it's not an ask, but i don't know if i can send it on your chat, so... i saw your post about a song and a character from cobra kai and automatically thought of sk8r boi (avril lavigne) and robby 😩😩😩 have a nice day and don't forget to drink water 💞

THANK U FOR THE REQUEST i love this song sm

sk8r boi | robby keene x reader

warnings: swearing, some catcalling

summary: he was a skater boy! she said see you later boy! he wasn’t good enough for her! (hehe)

“Come on Riley, Mom wants us home by 6 and we still have to get stuff from the store,” you crossed your arms, annoyed at your brother. He ignored you, dipping down, wheels first, into the concrete bowl.

You shifted on your feet, feeling uncomfortable standing at the skate park with your ballet attire still on. You’ve just come back from rehearsal, and you had to pick up Riley because Mom was working a late shift.

“Shit Riley, I didn’t know your sister was hot. Qué pasa ballerina?” one of his friends winked at you, making you roll your eyes in disgust.

“Hey, do a little twirl for us princess,” another boy whistled and you glared at the group.

Pigs. Boys are pigs.

“Riley, let’s go,” you said firmly, turning away and heading to your car, leaving him with no choice but to follow if he didn’t want to walk home.

Your brother’s friend group of skaters hollered and whooped as Riley caught up to you, and you had to focus on your breathing to calm your anger. You hate being made fun of, but you reminded yourself that they were just a bunch of stupid, hormonal, punks.

“Your friends are assholes,” you commented, and your brother only nodded in agreement.

“Hey,” a voice called from behind you, but you kept walking, assuming that it was just another guy trying to poke fun at you.

“Hey, wait,” the person said again, this time grabbing your arm to stop you.

You turned around quickly, pulling away from their grip. “What?” you snapped, meeting a pair of calm green eyes.

It was one of Riley’s friends, the one with long hair. You don’t remember him saying anything to you earlier; he seemed to be quiet.

“I just wanted to say sorry. About them. They don’t know how to talk to girls, I promise they’re not that bad,” he said, holding his skateboard at his side. His genuineness surprised you.

“So you do?”

He gave you a confused look, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Know how to talk to girls,” you clarified and he chuckled.

“I know a thing or two. I’m Robby,” the boy stuck out his hand for you to take.

“Wow you’re good,” you joked. “I’m Y/N,” you took his rough hand in your soft one.

After that day at the skatepark, you couldn’t stop thinking about Robby.

You don’t know what it was about him. Maybe it was his glittery eyes. Or his pretty hair. Or the way he smiled with his whole face. Or maybe it was how he talked in a way that told you he was smarter than most people.

Maybe it was all of those things that made you daydream like a schoolgirl with a crush. And all you wanted to do was see him again.

“Jenny doesn’t even deserve the variation, I mean we all saw what happened last time. She almost fell off stage! Anyone but her should have it,” your friend Abby ranted, sipping on her milkshake.

It was after rehearsal and your friend group decided to go to a diner to get food.

“It’s clearly favoritism. She could do the whole routine wrong and Ms. Adams would still choose her. I think Jenny’s parents are definitely bribing her,” your other friend Vanessa added to the gossip.

The whole time, you were half listening to the conversation and half thinking about a certain skater boy. You couldn’t even control it; your thoughts always somehow drifted to him.

“Oh my god. Skaters,” Abby whispered, making you snap out of your daydream. You looked up to see a pack of boys coming into the restaurant, holding their boards at their hips.

Among them was your little brother and your heart raced as you recognized all of them.

It was like your overflow of thoughts about him had somehow materialized right in front of you. Robby.

Your hands started to sweat and you contemplated if you should hide or say hello, or just act like you didn’t see him.

You decided to go for the latter, and you slumped down in your seat to make yourself less noticeable.

“God, look at them. Skater boys are the scum of the earth,” Abby uttered, making a face of distaste.

“I would never date one. Even that’s below me,” Vanessa scoffed in reply.

You felt your cheeks heat up at their remarks, now feeling ashamed for your growing feelings for the very thing they were so disgusted at.

“Same,” you replied, despite feeling conflict in your heart. You looked over Vanessa’s shoulder to see him laughing with his group, and his happiness made your heart warm.

Before you could look away, his eyes met yours. You cursed internally at your ruined plans of trying to ignore him, but the damage was done. You shot him a small smile and a nod before returning your gaze back to your friends.

It took everything in you to not look at him again, especially with the feeling of his stare on you.

“Holy shit. One of them’s coming over,” Abby said in a hushed tone, your stomach dropping at her words.

You looked up to see Robby heading over to your table as you panicked on the inside.

“Hey Y/N,” he said as he approached, and you looked back at his table to see his friends watching.

“Robby! Hi!” you greeted nervously. “Uh, these are my friends. Abby and Vanessa. Girls, this is Robby,” you introduced them.

“Nice to meet you,” he nodded at them, and they waved. Their smiles were definitely fake, and you could tell how hard they were judging the boy in front of you.

“So, um, do you guys come here a lot?” you tried to make conversation, but the air was too awkward to be saved.

“Not really, our usual place was closed so we came here,” Robby explained, glaring at his friends who were starting to boisterously taunt. “I should go. Sorry about them. Again. Just wanted to say hey.”

“All good,” you laughed. “See you.”

As he walked back to his table your friends turned to you, mouths agape.

“You know him?! What was that?” Abby inquired, giving you a look of disbelief.

“He’s... he’s just my brother’s friend,” you shrugged, trying to play it off.

“Just your brother’s friend. He totally had heart eyes for you Y/N!” Vanessa nudged your side, making you shake your head in denial.

You rolled your eyes, but what she said gave you butterflies. “No way, I’ve only met him once.”

“Whatever, just don’t fall into the trap. You’re too good for a skater. They’re scum, remember?” Abby said, as she chewed obnoxiously on a fry. You found yourself suddenly annoyed at her.

“Yeah, of course. I would never,” you contradicted your feelings.

They were probably right. You don’t even know Robby, and you were from completely different worlds.

You told yourself that you would push away your growing feelings for Robby. But you couldn’t help but be excited when you have to pick up Riley from the skatepark. You couldn’t help asking your brother maybe too many questions about him, and you couldn’t help looking out for him every time you would go to the diner with your girls.

He would always talk to you, making you giddy for the rest of the day. You found yourself wanting to see him more and more.

“So how long have you been skating?” you asked the boy beside you.

You were waiting for Riley to finish so you could go home, but you let him take his time.

“I started when I was 11, but it’s been on and off,” Robby replied. “Have you ever skated?”

You laughed at the thought of yourself on a board. “Never. It looks cool though,” you watched as your brother skated off some stairs.

“I think you’d be good at it. I mean ballet and skating are pretty much the same thing,” he grinned at you, making you blush and look away from him.

“Ballet and skating couldn’t be more different,” you disagreed.

Robby shrugged. “Wrong. Both are centered around balance. Skating, if you think about it, is choreography. Sure we’re not as graceful, but it’s not as different as you think.”

You smiled to yourself at his wiseness. “I guess you’re right.”

There’s a moment of silence between you two as you both sat at the edge of the bowl.

“So when are we starting?” he spoke, making you tilt your head in confusion.

“Starting what?”

“I’m teaching you how to skate,” he answered nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t giving you a choice.

“What? I-I can’t skate,” you stammered. The thought of you embarrassing yourself in front of him made you want to puke.

“Which is why I’m teaching you. Come on, I promise I won’t let you hurt your pretty little ballerina face,” Robby smiled.

Your head suddenly felt dizzy at his small remark. Pretty. “I don’t know Robby...”

“Tomorrow. At 5. I’ll even take you to that diner you like after. It’s a date,” he said surely, making your cheeks warm up again.

A date? Your heart fluttered at the thought of him wanting to hang out with you. Alone. On a freaking date.

“Okay, fine,” you bit your lip, trying to hold back a huge smile. “But only because of the promise of food.”

“I hate you,” Robby huffed as he watched you effortlessly roll past him on his skateboard.

“I can’t believe you compared this to ballet, this is so easy,” you jeered, laughing at his defeated look.

“Oh calm down Ms. Black Swan, you haven’t learned any tricks yet,” he stood up, walking over to you. “I’m going to teach you an ollie.”

He grabbed the board and stood on it, leaning down on the edge with one foot so that the board was wheels up on the other side. “Just do that.”

Robby handed you the skateboard, and you copied everything he did. Except you lost your balance and the wheels slipped from underneath you. You grabbed onto his shoulders as a reflex.

Your breath hitched as Robby’s placed his hands on your hips to steady you, and your faces were inches away. He was so close that you could feel his breath and see the pattern of his eyes.

“Not so easy, is it now?” he said softly, still holding onto you. The air was now filled with a thick tension and you felt woozy from being so close to him.

“I... I guess not,” you fumbled over your words, feeling incredibly nervous looking into his eyes.

None of you were pulling away, and you weren’t sure if you should be the first to do so.

“Can I kiss you?” Robby whispered, making you breathless. You were sure that he could hear your heartbeat, because it felt like it was consuming you.

You only nodded, feeling speechless, and he leaned in to press your lips together.

It was everything you’ve ever dreamed of. And you dreamed about it a lot.

“You’re so much different from your friends. How come?” You chewed on a fry, questioning the boy sitting in the diner booth in front of you.

Robby tapped his lip in thought. “I don’t know. Maybe I just balance out the group. You’re different from your friends too. I mean I’ve only met them once, but I don’t think they like me,” he replied, and you cringed at the memory of your friends being so judgmental.

“That makes sense. And sorry about them. They can be... mean,” you apologized on their behalf, almost in the same way that Robby would for his friends.

“Speak of the devil,” Robby looked behind you, making your eyes widen. You turned around and there they were. Abby and Vanessa. You didn’t even care that they were hanging out with you; you were worried that they would see you with Robby.

You slumped down in your seat like you did when you were trying to hide from Robby before. “We should go now, right? It’s getting pretty late.”

Robby gave you a weird look, “Um... sure.”

“Y/N?” a dreaded voice called your name before you could make your escape.

You faced your two best friends. “Hey guys,” you said sheepishly as they walked up to your table.

“What are you doing with him? Oh my god, are you two on a date?” Abby gasped.

Vanessa joined in, “You said you’d never date someone like him. Oh come on Y/N, you know he’s not good enough for you. What happened to boys like him are below us?”

Robby’s face flashed with pain, but you were so selfish that you didn’t even notice.

“No- I- We’re just friends, I swear it’s not a date. I would never-” you stuttered, trying to save yourself, and you didn’t even think of Robby’s feelings at all. In the moment you only cared about your reputation and what your friends thought of you.

The boy you liked so much got up from the booth, throwing a wad of cash on the table. You felt your heart break as he walked away without a word and clenched fists.

You got up to follow him, but your friends pulled you back. “Just let him go Y/N. He’ll just break your heart,” Abby said coldly.

You ripped your arm away from their grip, running through the diner to catch up to Robby.

“Robby! Please, stop, I’m sorry,” you called after him, trying to keep up with how fast he was walking.

He ignored you the first time, increasing his pace.

“Please, Robby, can we just talk about it? I’m stupid, okay? Don’t go,” you pleaded, and he finally stopped in his tracks.

You’ve never seen his face like that, a mixture of anger and pain. The fact that it was directed towards you made you want to just melt away.

“You want to talk? Am I even good enough to talk to you? I’m sorry, should I be on my knees right now your majesty?” he said angrily, and you felt like crying.

You shook your head, “No, no Robby I swear I don’t think of you that way. I said things that I don’t mean and I’m so sorry. I- I just... my friends were saying all this shit about-”

“Just- just stop. You’re saying different things to different people, and I’m just supposed to trust you? And what, was I just going to be a secret? Look, I have to go,” he turned around to keep walking but you took his hand.

“I was going to tell them Robby, I like you so much and please, I’ll fix it. I’ll talk to them and-”

He cut your frantic rambling off again, “Y/N... I like you too alright? And I get it. I get wanting to fit in with your friends, even if you don’t agree with them. I learned from it myself. I just need time to think about all of it.” He sighed and ran his hands through his hair.

You nodded in understanding, but your heart was hurting. “I’m sorry,” you said one last time before he took off on his skateboard.

a/n: why was that sm longer than i planned... also sorry for any mistakes im too lazy to edit. there probably won’t be a part 2 because the song doesn’t have a happy ending lol hope u enjoyed!!!!

#cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai x reader #cobrakai #robbykeene #Robby cobra kai #Robby Keene x reader #Robby Keene imagine #Robby Keene

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nishisun · 4 years ago

Text

DORM BUDDIES

27. arguing with roommates kinda suck

DORM BUDDIES MASTERLIST

You walk back into your decorated room and tsukishima was still seated on your bed, his phone in his hand and had the blanket covered around him, making himself more comfortable.

“wanna watch a movie?” he casually asks, in which you give him a pleasant smile and nod as you lay down next to him comfortably on your bed.

“I saw this really cool movie that’s out on Netflix and I was like ‘holy shit, y/n would love this movie!’” You laugh gaily at how talkative tsukishima had progressively become, you don’t say anything or look at him either. He carefully looks at you, as you’re facing down fidgeting with your fingers, still maintaining a small smile on your face, but tsukishima frowns and moves closer to you on the bed to give you a hug.

“tsukishima...” you say, he’s still hugging you, his face buried in the crook of your neck and you can’t help but smile gently at how open he’s gotten to you.

“hmm?” is all he says. You unanimously decide to hug him back, and your head is placed on top of his and you give him a quick kiss on his head which makes him hug you tighter.

“this is so unlike you.” you chuckle, his face is still buried in your neck, but you can feel him smile just a bit. “is everything okay?”

“I should be asking you that,” he mumbles. “you’re not talking to me like you always do.” he pauses thoughtfully and tightens the secure hold he has on you and then sighs. “ever since that fair you’ve been distant and I feel like it’s because of what me and kuroo said. You don’t even send me good morning text anymore with those weird ass emojis.” You widen your eyes a bit and then sigh, realizing keenly that you being distant has caused tsukishima to worry and a slight guilt rising within you.

“tsukishima, I’m so sorry, that’s not why. I’m sorry for making you feel that way.” you massage his back as your head remained on top of his. “I’ve been going through some stupid shit. It’s nothing really.”

“really, what’s wrong?” he instantly looks at you, the direct eye contact makes you blush and look away.

‘it’s nothing important”

“you’re lying.”

“oh yeah? How do you know?" you challenge, tsukshima puts his head down and sighs, then looks back at you.

“I just know you, y/n. Now, tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Well, it’s nothing, tsukishima.” you gently tap his nose lightly and giggle.

“kei,” tsukishima mumbles.

what?”

“you can call me kei.” he intentionally tries to conceal his face due to the blush that’s rising and you can’t help hit to squeal at tsukishima’s cuteness. He was so big and tall, but such a softie.

“AWW KEI,” you say, “someone has a crush on me!” you tease, and he just scoffs in response.

“I do not,” he retorts.

“do too,”

“do not.”

“well, I think you do.”

“maybe I do,” tsukishima shrugs and you look down at him in genuine shock, “I like you y/n. A lot actually.” he doesn’t say anything after that, neither do you, you’re still trying to process how random this was, how easy it was for him to candidly confess to you. You genuinely liked tsukishima as well, a lot, actually. You’ve consistently played it off a jokingly flirting so you wouldn’t get your heart broken by your roommate.

“I like you too, kei.” he looked up at you and smiled gently, you mirrored his actions and stared at each other for a while until your phone went off again, signaling that you received at text.

“hold on, I’m gonna set my phone on do not disturb.” you say, as you reach for your phone on the bedside you frown at the name that pops up.

Sugawara.

Again? Seriously, what does he want?

“who is it?” tsukishima humbly asks, readjusting himself on your bed.

“uh, nobody important.” you say, carefully putting your phone down but tsukishima looks at you in confusion.

“y/n, seriously?” tsukishima scoffs.

“what? I said no one special. Can we just watch this movie in peace?”

“I don’t want to watch a movie with you anymore.” tsukishima pouts, moving away from you and sitting himself correct on your bed and crossing his arms.

“kei, don’t be like that-“

“and I take back what I said about you calling me kei.”

“okay, now you’re being petty.” you chuckle, but tsukishima doesn’t laugh, still having a serious look on his face. You groan and move closer to him and lay your head on his lap while looking up to him but he instantly looks the opposing direction. “do you really want to know?”

“yes.”

“it was sugawara.” you mumble.

“oh,” is all tsukishima says, he shifts his leg so that you’re no longer laying on him and sits up properly.

“but it’s not like that, I promise.” you reassure him.

“then what is it like, y/n?" he scoffs, “you’re still talking to your ex. It seems to me that you still like him.”

“I don’t, he just wants to talk that’s it. The only time I’ve seen his since after our break up was the fair and that was on accident.”

“Then why don’t you just ignore him,” he reasonably asks, you don’t reply to that, you don’t know what to say. Why don’t you just ignore him?

“Was he the one you went to go text earlier?” he asks wistfully, you could barely even hear him, he was speaking so quietly.

“Yes, but tsukishima you have to understand-“

“do you still like him? or have feelings for him?” by now he’s no longer in your bed, he’s standing up, waiting for you to reply to him.

Did you still have feelings for him? You aren’t certain. You wouldn’t necessarily say no. You were never really over suga, the break was still sort of new, it happened almost a year ago, but the wound was still fresh.

“I don’t know-“

“are you serious? You seriously don’t know? You’re still hung up on your toxic ex? No fucking wonder why your relationships don’t last long.” His sudden change in behavior is not something you’ve seen before, you haven’t even seen him upset before. “he didn’t treat you right y/n, why do you still have feelings for him?

“kei, I don’t know why. can I just finish?” you’re on the verge of tears, and he doesn’t respond he just scoffs and looks away. “thank you. Sugawara was the first person I truly loved. Yes, he was abusive, yes he was manipulative, but I didn’t realize it at the time. And I don’t fucking know why I still feel some way for him, but the fact that you think it’s okay to say shit like that to me isn’t okay. I understand you’re upset with me, but that doesn’t mean you get to talk to me any way you want.” you’re already crying. You’re not even upset, more outraged that tsukishima had to bring your ex’s behavior into the argument. yes, you were aware he wasn’t the best person, but that doesn’t mean he gets to judge you based on your previous relationships.

“I am my own person kei. You don’t get to bring- up my past. My past doesn’t define me.” you’re breaking down and sobbing, you can barely even form a clear sentence and tsukishima is staring in shock as he’s just now realizing how much of an effect his words had on you. You’re breathing hard and holding onto your throat as your anxiety is getting the best of you, instantly reminding you of the dreadful events that would happen when you and suga would argue.

tsukishima’s eyes widen, he rushed over to your trembling state and holds you in his arms.

“y/n, you’re having a panic attack,” he whispers, “i need you to breathe, okay? take a deep breath with me.” he takes a deep breath, you copy his actions the best you can. tsukishima rubs your back to help soothe you, and praises you once you started breathing steadily.

“shit, y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that. I said it out of anger.” He’s still hugging you, still waiting for you to calm down, he waits patiently and feels like shit for letting his anger get the best of him even though that frequently doesn’t happen.

“I’m trying kei. I like you. I really do. I’m sorry for making you upset.” you choke out a sob and tsukishima kisses your temple and strokes your hair softly.

“y/n, please don’t apologize. I’m the one who needs to be apologizing to you. I know your past doesn’t define you as a person and I know that the things sugawara did to you were not okay. I’m so sorry for making you feel like you were a bad person for wanting to talk to him and so sorry for bringing up your past relationships when you obviously weren’t comfortable speaking about it. i know you’re trying. You always have a smile on your face even when you’re hurting. You’re honestly incredible, I don’t know how you do it.” you sniffle in response as tsukishima still is embracing you and he kisses you on the top of your head, which makes your head jolt up and you face him, puffy eyes and all.

“did you just kiss me?” you ask, sniffling again.

“yeah,” he says with mischief, “was that the wrong time or-“

“no, not at all.” you smile, “y’know, for someone who’s basically 2 meters tall, you’re such a softie.”

“am not.” tsukishima mutters.

“are too”

“no”

“yes,” you say, still hugging tsukishima. “but i like this side of you, maybe i should start crying in front of you more.”

“no, i hate seeing you cry.” he burries head in the crook of your neck and kisses it softly then hugs you more tightly.

“hey— are you trying to kill me! let go of me right now tsukishima kei!” he doesn’t listen instead he grumbles and starts littering your face with kisses and you can’t help but blush. “i hate you!”

“but i like you.” he stops and stares at you, you’re blushing and you look away with him, which makes the blond smirk. “what, now you’re suddenly shy?”

“i like you too.”

taglist (if your name is crossed out that means tumblr won’t let me add you!): @sunasro @cvlliesstuff @appleciderslut @korean-bbq @lilacnoodles @sinistersith @d0llpie @kac-chowsballs @resetrestartandreplay @satomiis @xo-lovelyreign-xo @idiot-juice-enthusiast @iminlovewhaikyuu @definitelynotbianca @somecravings @my-weeb-ass @yourlocalbabybird @bokutosuwus @tadashisprout @daninaninani @r4twh0r3 @tazinva @neokawa @mirikusashes @helloshoutohere @goldenchaos7 @wingsofmydemons @fearlesskz @moonieho @denkis-slut @nikanikabitch @peteunderoos @itsjustsavs @lalisbitch @micheleinumaki @tsukkisbbyg @kuroosluv @immxnty @rory-cakes @xcosmicons @thechaosoflonging @ish-scribbles @randomesk-yuku @emazzello @fivxss @morosis-haze @setterswife @m01k

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solcheeky · 4 years ago

Text

our secret

summary: fratboy!donghyuck turns paperboy! when he needs some extra money for college stuff like textbooks. he thinks delivering way outside of campus will save face from being a measly paperboy, but little does he know, the front yard light he hits (and breaks) belongs to his significantly well off classmate... (3k)

warnings: strong language here and there genre: enemies to ..friends? a/n: I’ve merged these two requests together! meaning I have and haven’t included aspects of each, hope that’s okay! (2021 edit: hi I found this in my drafts from last year and idk why I never posted it so yeah, here we go)

“You’re late.” Your professor calls out as Donghyuck fails to sneak into lecture hall unnoticed

You sigh, you’d think he’d at least look ashamed to step foot into class at such a late time

You suppose with Lee Donghyuck, things were always different

The boy winces comically, inhaling between his teeth brazenly, and students stifle their laughter

Then with a simple raise of his hand, he gestures a flimsy ‘my bad’ and a ‘continue, continue’ before charmingly wiping the sweat off his brow and sitting in the empty seat saved by his friends

The professor frowns, “you’re late.” He repeats as if to encourage the young rebel to at least say something

“I’m Haechan,” the rebel says under his breath, flopping his backpack onto the desk, “not ‘late’” a sarcastic smile stretching his lips as his friends snicker at his dumb joke

You roll your eyes, he was unbelievable.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough.” The professor claps his hands. “And Mr. Late,” he emphasizes, “don’t think you’re getting away with anything.”

So he drops it on him like a bomb: “For the rest of this week, meet me in the office an hour before classes start.”

The grin on Donghyuck’s face immediately wipes off his face and his heart drops to his stomach

“Prof!” He whines back

Karma, you think. That’s what he gets for being so up his own ass

It wouldn’t kill him to wake up a little bit earlier. He relied so much on his ‘so loveable’ personality and popularity, you couldn’t stand it

If you even attempted to do half the things he got away with, you’d be expelled by now

You drop your pen and lean back into your seat with a sigh, you had no choice but to sit back and watch him waste valuable lesson time over this insolence

“You can’t do that!” Seriously, Donghyuck would do anything else other than doing extra hours in the morning

“And you can’t be late to my lectures all the time. What are you not getting here Mr. Late?”

“But I can’t.” Donghyuck immediately regrets saying that out loud like that; the vulnerability in his voice a little too close to home

“And, why not?” Your professor bounces back thankfully brushing past the genuine desperation in his students voice

The reason why not was something ‘Lee Haechan’ couldn’t say out loud. If he did, he’d lose everything

So instead, he sticks with his usual tongue-in-cheek mannerism, “because I don’t want to.”—A sneaky beat around the bush on his part because, little did everyone know, Lee Haechan, the star player and everyone’s favorite goofball, was a measly paperboy

Why?

Because he was dumb broke.

It was a job that required him waking up extra early to race around neighborhoods on his bike, something he had to do regardless rain or sun just tossing as many papers onto people's front porches,

Something he already was finding so much of a difficulty doing: racing to class and acting as if his muscles weren’t burning or the fabric under is backpack wasn’t drenched in sweat

But now this ‘meet me in the office an hour earlier than classes start’ bullshit

That would mean he’d have to wake up even earlier than he already did!

“Doesn’t matter if you don’t want to, you’re going to.” Is the last thing your professor says on that topic before swiftly moving on.

Oh to be born with a silver spoon in his mouth, is what he always thinks as he cycles his rounds in the wealthy neighborhood

If there was one thing he didn’t have, it was this.

He looks at the blaringly affluent homes that surrounded him and heaves another sigh, the same road he rides every morning (and now this extra early morning) effortlessly reminding him of how absolutely poor his ass was

Grumbling under his breath in a tantrum about his professor in his head, he angrily hurls newspapers onto doorsteps

It was the fact that he had to deal with this at ungodly hours in the morning—as if this job wasn’t already enough

Donghyuck frustratedly hurls another newspaper, but this time around, it shoots straight into someone's front garden post light, knocking it over and completely disrupting the perfect order in which the other trail of foot lights were set in

What the heck?

Immediately, he hits the breaks, his tires screeching loudly in the quietness of the early morning

Profanities frantically leave his lips as he hurriedly drops his bike onto the sidewalk in a clatter, and runs ahead to see the damage he’s made

The lamp was perfectly struck to its side.

Well, that’s just great—he can’t afford college textbooks let alone the broken path lamp on some rich persons lawn

So, his first thoughts are to pull it back into the place, completely irrational, but it’s the only thing that runs through his mind when he’s on a time crunch to get off private property

Except, the damn thing is stuck; literally cemented into this lopsided tilt

Man, Donghyuck swears he could tug all day and it wouldn’t get back into place

It was like the universe was having fun being against him

You, on the other hand, were watching this boy struggle to fix your light back into place from the comfort of your window.

He looked ridiculously cute trying to tug that lamp back into place, curled almost into a ball in the middle of your lawn, his eyebrows sewn into a line of frustration and lips pursed

You knew he was your paperboy from the start of his laborious cycling trips, but did Donghyuck know he was delivering papers to his very own classmate every morning?

You guess not.

...Until now

You knock three times from behind the glass, successfully capturing the boy's attention before mouthing, “what are you doing?”

The agitation on his features drops and immediately his eyes widen at your familiar face

Except, he isn’t given much time to reply before the lamp between his fingers gives in to his weight and recoils back smacking him right in the nose

“Holy shit!” You forget you’re only in socks when you open your front door and race towards him

Donghyuck automatically drops the (now broken) piece of your lawn to cup his bruising face

“Ah- Fucking shit- Ow!” He bends forwards on his knees into the grass, forehead pressing into your lawn before he rocks back up again to scrunch a deep frown up towards the sky. “Jesus-”

“Are you okay?!” Dropping to your knees, you place a cautious hand to his back

“Yes.” He groans into his palms, rocking back down towards the grass again

He definitely wasn’t.

But he needed to get out of there quick; there’s no way he’d let you recognize him

Yeah, you weren’t that stupid.

“Let me see,” you carefully bring him up by his shoulders, your head leaning down towards his to see the damage

“No- Ow! Crap-”

“You’re bleeding!” You try to pry at his wrists but he rips away from your hands

That’s when Donghyuck finally looks up to scowl at you; a frown stitched hard into into his forehead, eyes watering, hair all ruffled, but most alarmingly—a scarlet ribbon of blood running down his wrists

“I’m okay.” He muffles into his hands.

And wow did he look like an idiot.

“Sorry about your-”

“Jesus Hyuck, you’re not fooling anyone.”

The boy visibly stiffens at your choice of his name

“Haechan.” You quickly correct yourself

He gulps

You glance away

“Let’s just put an ice-pack on that.” Then you’re dragging him into your house

“Quit moving!” You dab a wet cloth across the cut above Donghyuck’s lip

“Well, it hurts.” He tries to complain without moving his mouth too much

You purse your lips and Donghyuck attempts to adjust the ice pack on his nose despite your warning

With a sigh, you take his wrist and bring his arm down to his lap, “Hyuck, if you keep-” you feel him stiffen under your touch. “Haechan.” You keep doing that. “Sorry.”

He just diverts his eyes elsewhere and mumbles, “It’s whatever.” under his breath

So, you bring your attention back to cleaning his cut, your cheeks heating up at the thought of how much of a creep you probably were by calling him by his old name

“I’m-”

“Y/n.” His voice was a little clearer this time, a soft frown on his face, “I remember.”

He kind of wished you didn’t though. This was so embarrassing.

You pull the cloth away from his reddening cheeks, that annoyed flustered look on his face pulling at the nostalgia in you

It was only natural to call him ‘Hyuck’ because you had been going to the same school as him for years

Ever since you were kids, through highschool and now somehow, still impossibly in college, you’ve been with him

You almost had every class with the loud idiot back when he was still ‘Donghyuck’

For as long as you could remember, he had always been the center of gravity in every class, his punchy personality and almost too friendly way of speaking easily giving him the ‘popular’ tag

It made you have a bit of a crush on him when you were younger, but who didn’t?

Now, you found him irritating.

The only thought you had about him consisted of wishing he’d stop using his status to his advantage and just come to class right instead of wasting your lesson time

“Can I ask you something?” He dodges your hand for a second, eyes looking down as if to hide away his embarrassment

“Sure,” you naturally reach forward again to dab his cut, but he stops you at the wrist

“Can you,” you lift your focus away from his lip to the slight grimace on his face, “not tell anyone about this?”

You blink at him, and a muscle works in his jaw

“Seriously, people can’t know about this.”

But you simply pull your wrist out of his grip and go back to tending to his wound

You hadn’t told anyone since you’d found he was your paperboy, and that was weeks ago. So why was he so worked up?

Hadn’t the situation already called for it anyway? Who in their right mind would tell anyone after this? For you, it was obviously common courtesy

But before you can reply, he tilts his face into your line of vision. “Are you listening to me?” The frown on his face deepens and he instantly brings the ice pack in this hand over his face at the sudden pain through his nose

That attitude of his easily drove you crazy.

“That was a stupid question.” You give up on cleaning the blood on his lip and push the ice-pack deeper into his face, “if you used that stupid, egotistical brain of yours-”

“Ah! Ow- Ooow-”

“Maybe you’d realize I’ve never told anyone about your paper rounds before.”

“Ow!” He wrenches away from your frustrated grip, the look on his face just as annoyed as you. “You’re going to break my nose!”

“You broke my yard lamp!”

He looks at you with a huff; a slight puff to his reddened cheeks, furrowed brows and tears ever so slightly brimming his eyes

If that lamp didn’t cost about five times the price of his bike he’d say something back.

You easily read that off his expression

“You don’t have to pay for it.” You start to pack up the first-aid kit you’d opened up on your coffee table just to not look at him in the eyes when you say that

As much as he irritated you, you weren’t that petty

“Really?” The genuine doubt in his face relaxing the annoyance in you a little

“Yeah.” Money wasn’t a problem for you, it was his attitude

But the casualness Donghyuck catches in your tone reminds him of the starkly different worlds you live in

So he musters it up within himself to at least show some kind of gratitude, “...Thanks.”

And it’s almost inaudible when he says it under his breath like that

But you catch it as you pull a bandaid out of the box before you close it

“On one condition.” You turn to look at him dead in the eyes.

One of his brows slightly quirk up in interest

“Hand.”

He opens his palm to you and you purposely slap the bandaid into it.

“Stop coming late to class, you’re wasting everyone's time.”

Instantly, his jaw goes slack.

Unable to say anything he stares as you rise from your seat in content, first aid kit in hand, before walking behind the sofa towards the kitchen

You didn’t have to say it like that.

He swings an elbow over the back of the couch, “Sorry for bringing you the paper every morning!” Maybe he was a little offended

You turn on your heels to face him, noticing the bandaid now crushed in the fist of the hand he had over the couch and ice-pack abandoned on the coffee table (the full glory of his bruising nose and cut lip on show)

“I said ‘don’t be late’ not ‘don’t bring me the paper’.” Then you disappear into the kitchen.

Donghyuck has to close his eyes for a second, exhaling a frustrated sigh before standing up in a huff and following your footsteps.

How could you say something so insensitive? Yeah, maybe he broke your lamp or whatever, but he tried to fix it!

And sure, he was sort of bleeding over your couch and used your ice pack, but he totally said thanks

“That’s just- You’re so,” He’s standing at the doorway by the time you’re done, bandaid still stuck in the frustrated grip of his hand

“So what, Hyuck?”

Seeing the all star, team favorite class clown crumble at the simple play of his old nickname made something in your stirr

“Insufferable.”

You? Your lips turn up in amusement. He was the insufferable one, you almost scoff

“You and your big house, fancy first aid kit, stupid lamps on your lawn,” he takes a bold step forward at every reason until he’s one step to being chest to chest, “I’m just trying to do my job, and go to class.”

You look at him straight in the eyes. “Well, you’re hardly succeeding at either of those.”

You...

Donghyuck runs his tongue across his inner cheek before biting down on his bottom lip in a brazen attempt to act unfazed by that fatal side comment

A coppery, metal taste pricks his tongue, and he realizes he’s reopened up the cut on his lip again

But that was the least of his worries. You had no idea what it was like being broke. If there was anything he didn’t have, it was everything you did. You probably couldn’t even fathom the type of shit he’s had to go through and even more so: hide.

The way you acted as if his biggest problem in life was as easy as brushing the dust of his shoulder just pissed him off.

“Have you ever thought of waking up earlier?”

Ah, there it was again, Donghyuck wants to roll his eyes

“I sleep late.” He says dryly.

“Then sleep earlier.”

“I have other shit to do, like study.”

“Then, manage your time better.” If he really wanted to ‘do his job’ and ‘get to class’, he could’ve done it by now.

He was always messing about with friends and organizing parties, stories spread around like wildfire on campus about the things he occupied himself with other than ‘having shit to do like studying’, you weren’t stupid

It was by the end of high school, when you began to see him as a person who valued himself with the amount of friends knew or the amount of partying he did

And at first you were mad that he had the things you never did, but seeing him easily get washed up by it all made you think maybe you didn’t need what he had

Now you figure his ego was so far up his ass he couldn’t even sit right—that’s probably why he couldn’t cycle to class on time

“And don’t use your bike, you’re clearly slow on it.” You tack on.

“I don’t even have a car!” He snaps back

He made you want to pull out your own hair. “Jeez, first this, then that, god Hyuck, you keep-”

“You say that as if it were so easy,” his words overlapping yours as you continue

“-making up so much bullshit because the only thing you really put effort into is your image,” Your words running over his too.

“-if I could get a car, don’t you think I’d have one already?”

“Then I’ll just take you!” That puts both of you to a stop.

“So, quit giving me stupid excuses to ruin my lectures every day.” If the things money could buy were what he needed, you had it

You snatch the bandaid out of his fist, rip it open and harshly stick it across his bottom lip. It was annoying to see him ignore it like that.

“You usually finish an hour before class right?” You frown up at him

Donghyuck opens his mouth then closes it again.

“Because if you reroute and make me the last house, I’ll take you with me by car.”

“What?” He manages to say. What the hell just happened?

a/n: okay so there was a lot more to the story and character development but it ran too long I had to cut it off bc I cba to edit lmao

also I seemed to have gone way out of the request lines near the end my bad my bad, but I at least hope you’ve enjoyed it! thoughts???? a part 2?

#lee donghyuck #lee haechan #lee haechan scenarios #lee donghyuck scenario #haechan imagines #lee haechan x you #lee haechan fic #haechan scenarios #donghyuck scenarios #haechan fluff #donghyuck fluff #haechan x reader #lee haechan fanfic #haechan fic #donghyuck imagines #nct imagines #nct scenarios #lee haechan x reader #why does he have two names I hate this

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oogaboogasphincter · 3 years ago

Text

A Magpie, a Goose and a Sparrow Walk into a Found Family Trope (Ezra x f!reader)

Summary: A nightmare caused by trauma he endured before and on The Green haunts Ezra one night, his fear bleeding into reality. Under the fog of sleep, he hurts you, thinking you are the monster that is endangering you, Cee and himself while on your next trip. He apologizes by doing something that terrifies him: opening his heart up to another person.

Word Count: 10.7k+ (holy shit i deeply apologize for putting my readers through this agonizingly long junk)

Rating: M (mature) just to be safe (some pretty intense themes but i don’t think there’s anything too explicit)

Warnings: non-fatal manual strangulation and bruises from it, swearing, sexualization of two adults, mild references to sex, mild allusions to sexual arousal, discussion of trauma and its effects, Prospect (2018) spoilers, some argument, hair braiding, one (1) ✨neck✨ kiss, one use of (y/n), sprinkles of that sexual tension we all love, a resolved ending!

Author’s Note: first off, thank you SO much to @martinsmomo for this request!💜💕 this was so creative, i hope i did it justice :). second, AHHH!!!!! my first piece ever!!! i haven’t written anything on my own time for my own enjoyment since i was like 13, which may or may not be apparent by my comma splices, repetitive sentence structure/word choice and disagreeing verb tense💀. the thought of i have no idea what i'm doing never left my mind while i was writing this, but i just tried to go with it and have fun :). ALSO, i had so much fun reading all of the lore about the world that Prospect (2018) takes place in. Here is a link to a pamphlet about a lot of stuff that is featured in the movie, which i used while writing this piece. i highly recommend you check it out! i tried to stick to as much canon stuff as i could, but 🦋The Blue🦋 is something that i made up. also this is not beta’d, i just wanted to throw this into the void and see what happens✨. i also also want to point out that in no way am i trying to romanticize or sexualize domestic violence. i know that the subject matter in this piece can be triggering, and even though the violence wasn’t intentional and it’s resolved through love, i don’t want it to be misconstrued as something that it’s not. with that being said, i hope you enjoy it! :)

gif by @anakin-skywalker

A grunt stirs you from your deep slumber. Your eyes open easily, a treat that you weren’t given often due to the dryness of the pod’s recirculated air. The inside of your shared galactic chamber is as dark as your mind; no illumination to shine on your thoughts and wake them up or to show you how Ezra is doing. You know the grunt had come from him, as the only other passenger was his adopted daughter, Cee. You turn in your pilot’s chair, looking over your shoulder to try and make him out through the impossible darkness.

Parcel-Class Planetary Drop Pods were designed to fit only two travelers, however the three of you had decided to embark on your next journey together. To save on costs, your partners opted for a model without cots. Being the gentleman that he is, Ezra insisted that you and Cee sleep in the pilots’ chairs. He had thrown a few blankets on the cold, flat floor and had proudly announced, “Sleeping quarters fit for a king!”, eliciting pitiful laughter from you and Cee.

Now, your eyes can’t find the sad bundle of warmth that is his sleeping figure. He is a restless sleeper, and every time he made a noise that was more than a good-natured hum or a soft swish of rearranging his blankets, you would wake and turn to make sure that he was okay. You would do the same for Cee, but she was a fantastic sleeper. Not too deep, not too light, and never made a peep. You turn back around, giving up on trying to spot Ezra in the dark, when you hear another grunt.

This one is louder than the last.

You turn back around yet again, your own blanket falling off of your chest and into your lap. Eyebrows furrowing together and eyes squinting, your pupils strain themselves to find any shred of light to let you see. The noises increase in abundance and volume. Ezra’s sleeping fit has transformed from a halfhearted rustling to an aggravated clamor in less than a minute. Your eyes stay on the dark patch of space where you know his “bed” is situated while Cee arises from her sleep. Her chair lets out the slightest creak as she follows your gaze and attempts herself to see what all of the commotion is about. She asks you, “Is he okay?” Ezra answers her with an irritated growl through his teeth. You say to her, “I don’t know, I can’t see him, should we-”

Your suggestion of waking him up is cut short as two hands wrap around your throat. The hands twist your head to face forward, and you’re greeted with Ezra’s sweat-slicken face. Instinctively, you grasp at his forearms in an effort to ease the constriction of your neck.

Cee screams, “Ezra, let go of her!”

He defies her command and puts one of his knees in between yours on the seat of the pilot’s chair and leans closer to you. The brown eyes that you had grown to love now bore into yours with unwavering menace as the pads of his fingers press harder into the sides of your neck. His palms are flush with your larynx, threatening to crush it. You want to let out sobs of heartbreak, but are unable to. He’s restricted your actions to only being able to watch him attempt to strangle you. Your fingers aren’t able to get a grip on his limbs due to his angry sweat and your panicked claminess. Your mouth hangs open as his is shut tight, his jaw muscles stuttering with intense rage. He starts to growl through his teeth again, but a flash of light turns it into a howl.

His entire body falls back, his hands losing their purchase on your neck. You suck in a harsh breath and lean forward as Cee grabs your hand and pulls you out of the pilot’s chair. In her other hand she grips a Boscelot Frontiersman: the source of the light that had extracted Ezra’s shriek and drilled its way into his thigh. He sat on the floor in front of your chair and laced his hands just above his injury, throwing his head back and wincing.

Cee puts some feet in between the two of you and guides you across the floor to the other side of the impossibly small pod. Hoarse coughs begin to rise from your surprised larynx, accompanied by trembling of your entire body. Cee, still holding you by your arm with one hand and the Thrower in the other, yells your thoughts at Ezra, “What the fuck was that for?!” She flicks the lights on, allowing everyone to see each other’s face for the first time all night.

Ezra stares at the two of you in disbelief. Both brunette and blonde strands of hair are stuck to his forehead with sweat, eyes depressed from the subsiding adrenaline, his whole body drenched in distressed perspiration. You and him lock eyes, even through your flailing about as you continue to choke on air and delicately place your own hands over where his just had you in a vice grip. He knows what he’s done as soon as he sees you. He begins to cry and opens his mouth to start an apology that can never be adequate, but Cee hurls a field kit at his head. It hits him and he takes the blow without complaint. His devastated eyes keep to your bloodshot ones as he opens up the kit and starts to treat his justified wound. Cee stares at him with aggravation, and so do you, but her expression is void of confusion.

You are confused as all hell. What could have possibly made him do that? He seemed to be having a nightmare, but that didn’t give him the excuse to nearly strangle you to death.

Your coughs and stress start to dwindle as all of you sit there, not saying a word, the only other noise in the room being Ezra opening and closing medical supplies. He squirts a sanitizing solution over his wound, hissing, and then he takes out a Patch Gun. This sets your heart racing. The strangling was unpredicted and almost successful, would he get up once he was healed enough and try to do it again? You push yourself back against the wall and keep your widening eyes on him as he sprays the medicated foam into the hole the Thrower had burned through his trousers. He squeezes his eyes shut, winces intensely, and then fails to keep a painful wail inside his chest. You’ve seen him treat himself before, and usually his next step is to throw more than the recommended amount of pain relievers into his mouth and chew on the tablets, redirecting the pain from his injury to his mouth. He doesn’t do that this time.

Instead he throws the used Patch Gun to the side, closes the field kit and pushes it Cee’s way. He breathes your name out of his mouth, causing you to retreat further into the wall. You bring your legs to your chest and wrap your hands around the back of your neck, resting your elbows on your quaking kneecaps. Burrowing your face into the cavity you’ve created, you start bawling. Pain sears your throat, and is only intensified by your sobs, but you can’t help it. You’re absolutely terrified. Ezra says your name again, genuine with care, in an effort to get you to look at him. You shake your head once and continue to gasp into yourself. Cee startles you by touching your shoulder, and she quells your worries, “He won’t do it again.”

Her five simple words plant a seedling of peace in your heart, but it is nowhere near close to blooming. You don’t look up as she gets up and goes over to your pilot chair and grabs your blankets. Her footsteps return to you quickly, and within moments her warm, calm hands are draping the fabric over your shoulders. She rests her chin on your shoulder, moving with your heaves. A softening tone takes over her beautiful voice as she murmurs “It’s okay”s, “I’m here”s and “You’re safe”s into your blankets. Before you know it, your body succumbs to the overwhelming desire to heal mentally, emotionally and physically with sleep. Your trust in Ezra may be broken right now, but you know that Cee will watch over you. Despite her lack of size and experience compared to Ezra, you know she has the upper hand on him intellectually. He may be full of wondrous prose, a never-ending vocabulary and sharp wit, but Cee has had him in the palm of her hand ever since they met. You can sleep knowing that she can protect you and herself, if need be.

You peek out underneath your arm to qualify to yourself that Ezra is in no shape to attack again.

He sits where he landed when he fell, slouching with exhaustion. His eyes sparkle with tears of regret, his eyebrows quirked in a way that reads “There aren’t enough ways to apologize, but I’ll try every one until you forgive me.” You close your eyes, lay your head against the wall and beg the Sandman to bring you all a night of peace as you rest until the Sun comes up.

The pale blue morning light penetrates your eyelids and alerts your brain that it is time to get up. You awake to find Cee and Ezra sound asleep, her in her pilot’s chair and him in his “bed”. You are still huddled up against the wall, opposite to Ezra, and look upon him with a wary gaze. The fear he inserted into you last night makes your nerves feel like static, but at the same time you can’t help but be relaxed by his presence. It’s obvious he didn’t cause any more damage during rest of the night, so maybe his eyebrows were telling the truth: that he is sorry.

The muted sunshine washes his complexion out and dulls the warmth that his chestnut locks hold. It makes the blonde patch in his hair and the arc scar on his cheek glisten cerulean. His expression is relaxed, eyelids fidgeting under the controls of REM sleep.

The sound of Cee’s alarm clock distracts you, and moments later her hand reaches out and pushes the ‘stop’ button. Awakening limbs appear above the back of her chair, accompanied by a yawn. Your eyes dart to Ezra. He’s still asleep. She turns to you first and smiles, “Are you alright?” You nod once, return her smile, and you both turn to the slumbering man. She says, folding her blanket, “He’s fine. Calmed down after you fell asleep. He said he had a nightmare that you had turned against us. He said he wants to apologize but understands if you don’t want to speak to him.” You sigh through your nose, glancing over at him, “That’s okay. I think I would like some time away from him though. Just to process things, y’know?” Cee turns to face you, “That’s what I figured. I told him that.” You look at her and nod once.

She gets up and stretches again, folded blanket still in hand. She puts it on her seat and looks up at you excitedly, “Want to come look for aurelac with me today?”

“Definitely.”

Her face lights up with a wide smile and you mirror her reaction. Getting up and dropping your blankets to the floor, you go over to the compartment in the wall that holds your equipment. You take out what you’ll need - suit, helmet, air filter and a few Slurry Packs - and close the latch. The door slams shut harder than you intended, the resulting crash jolting Ezra awake.

A shy, apologetic smile graces his face as he meets your eyes, and you return the expression. You were still tightly wound, but were ready to start dispelling the fear, and that began by being cordial with him. His smile fades when his eyes lower to your hands and take in what you are holding. He gets up off the floor and inquires, “What do you have all that for?” His expression is neutral, but you worry that you will anger him by telling him what your plans are.

He had made it very clear since you joined him and Cee that he did not want you to prospect. He had told you that it was too dangerous of a task in itself, let alone the implications that came along with it: bartering, lying, gambling, stealing, killing. He didn’t want you or Cee to be subjected to any any of the horrors that accompanied prospecting, but Cee had been stubborn about her desires and had proven her abilities. She was great at prospecting, possessing an attention to tedium and an unwavering sense of calmness while performing the task. For a man who seeps with wisdom, Ezra wasn’t all that good of a prospector. He had the tendency to lose patience and cripple under pressure, which sometimes led to compromised digs.

“I’m going to look for aurelac deposits with Cee.” You nudge your head in her direction and she smiles at Ezra. He waves his hand dismissively, “That’s all fine and dandy,” now pointing a lazy yet warning finger at you, “But don’t you dare let prospecting dance upon those beautiful brain waves of yours.” His comment irritated you. You had never shown any signs of true disobedience to his wishes, besides the casual sigh of boredom or the bratty roll of your eyes. The words also set your heart aflutter. As you try to hide your blush and bury your annoyance, Cee says to him, “We don’t be doing any prospecting if we can’t find any aurelac.” His head tilts in agreement. He pads over to you and gingerly puts a hand on your shoulder. He had sensed your irritation and repeats his mantra of why he doesn’t want you prospecting, “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Your anger became fiery again. Shoulder jerking to flick his hand off, you jab at him, “Because I’m safe in the confines of the pod?”

He points a finger at you again, this time accusatory, “That was purely an accident. Do not take it as anything but.”

Cee commands, “Both of you, stop, now. I’m not dealing with this all day. It was an accident. An inexcusable one, but an accident.”

Your and Ezra’s eyebrows had shifted to take on the same irate slope, however you both decide to just let it drop. You visibly signal your concession by dropping your shoulders and Ezra reflects you. He spins on his heels to open his own equipment hatch, and you turn to the wall yours is on. You all face the walls and change into your suits, a ritual of trust and time efficiency you decided on when the three of you agreed to work as a group.

Once dressed, you exit the pod, Ezra being first and Cee being last, and embark on your daily journey. The Sun had retreated behind some dark grey clouds. The sky was a royal blue, the ground was greige and the dark foliage that surround you drips with dew. You were stationed on the Blue Moon, an orbiting moon in the Bakhroma System. This place wasn’t highly traveled like its permanent sister (the Green Moon), due to the popular aftermath of the Aurelac Rush. Although Cee and Ezra had been there and left, many people in the galaxy still went to try and scoop up some valuable remains. Unlike The Green, The Blue wasn’t known for its abundant aurelac deposits, which is precisely why your partners chose to come here.

Their original plan was to travel to The Blue with just themselves, but while on a stop to Puggart Bench you had entranced Ezra while Cee tried to scope out her old friends and catch up with them before she set off on another mission. Demonstrating your eagerness to explore the galaxy and your expansive knowledge of it, Ezra decided to add you to his partnership. It didn’t hurt that you also tried to express your attraction to him, complimenting the rugged floater on his impressive vocabulary. He had complimented you on your willingness to listen to his ramblings, and it had been love ever since. Neither of you had come out directly and said “I love you”, and you hadn’t partaken in any physical affection, but your yearning for each other could not be more understood. His adoration for you only deepened when he saw how you interacted with Cee. Being closer to her generation than Ezra’s, you were able to connect with her like contemporaries. However, you were far enough away from her age group to the point where Ezra couldn’t act as a father figure to you. This duality made you irresistible to him.

Back to the present, you gaze at the back of his helmet intently, waiting to see what his plan of action for the day is. The Green requires visitors to wear air-tight suits and breathe through air filtration systems at all times because of harmful spores that float in the atmosphere. The Blue’s spores are far less harmful, and helmets can be taken off for 45 minute intervals, but the three of you only took them off when the confinement of the helmets became a little too much. The glass window of Ezra’s helmet swivels to you and he asks, “Split up, hourly check-ins, reconvene for lunch?”

As you’re thinking of your answer, you notice his eyes dart repeatedly up and down your body. You can tell by the way his mouth is slightly parted that he isn’t assessing your body language to predict your response. He’s thinking about all of the ways he would devour you for apology’s sake.

You look to Cee in the middle of your answer, “Sure. I’ll go with Cee today.” She smiles at you and turns to him. His mouth closes and he looks down to fiddle with his radio with thick-gloved fingers, “I’ll be on channel one.” Cee says, “Okay,” and beckons you to follow her as she sets off on a worn path. You and Ezra look at each other one more time before you turn in opposite directions and begin your divergent treks.

Catching up to Cee by jogging, your steps slow to match her pace once you are by her side. There’s silence between the two of you for a little while as you weave your way through trees of varying heights, eyes keeping to the ground to spot humps in the dirt. Humps gave away the location of aurelac deposits. A couple of slips were shared between the two of you as you climbed over hills and shuffled through valleys, the forest floor littered with puddles. What The Green has in vegetation, The Blue has in water. There were multiple lakes, some touting depths that are only achievable by advanced marine technology. Rainstorms are common, but they never grow to something like a hurricane. Everything was doused in a blue hue, whether it was the air, the water or the plants. The spores in the air resembled stagnant raindrops, peculiar in the way that they seemed to stay in their place in the atmosphere.

Cee broke the silence, “So, are you okay?” You know exactly what she is referring to and answer, “Yeah. Still a bit shaken up and confused, but other than that I guess I’m fine. I can feel bruises where his hands were.” She turns around to look at you and you lift your chin for her to see. She grimaces and says, “Yeah, you can see where each finger was and everything.” You look down, feeling disappointed that the event even happened. You ask her, “So he had a nightmare about me?” You watch the back of her helmet as she nods, “Yep. He just said that he thought you were going to endanger the three of us. He didn’t say in what way, really, just that you were a threat.” You take a moment to process the information and then fire off another question, “So, I have nightmares too, but I don’t act on them in real life. So why did he do what he did? Is there, like, an underlying feeling of distrust that he has for me, or...?” She started shaking her head halfway through your last sentence, “No, no, not at all. It’s just that The Green was so traumatic that I can understand just how vivid nightmares about it can be. And even though I don’t know much about what he went through before I met him on The Green, I’m sure prospecting was just as dangerous as it is now. I wouldn’t be surprised if at one point, or at a million points, someone that he trusted backstabbed him. But it’s nothing personal against you at all.” You nod and take in her words, trying to reassure yourself that you can trust him, even though he had done everything he could to prove you otherwise the night prior.

Cee stops and turns to you, chuckling, “If anything-”

A short sound on your radios cuts her off, and Ezra’s voice comes through the speakers, “How are you little birds coming along?”

Cee answers, “Fine. No deposits yet. What about you?” She grins at you, not forgetting to finish her comment as soon as he leaves the two of you alone.

“Nothing. I’ll be shocked if we stumble across any hint of a deposit today. Like every day. Over and out.”

You look at her, eager to hear what she has to say. This only widens her smile, and she rolls her eyes as she begins, “Like I was saying.” You both laugh as she continues, “If anything, you’re the best thing that’s happened to him. I’ve never seen his eyes light up so much at anything like they do when he looks at you.” You blush and look down at your feet shyly. She gives you a playful shove and knocks you out of your butterfly-ridden trance. Her tone changes serious as she sighs, her pitch dropping a little bit lower than normal, “You really don’t have to worry about him hurting you or me. He’s just fucked up from our time on The Green. I am too, but I experienced it in a slightly different way, and deal with it differently too. I mean, I lost my father, but he killed two other people. It got us out of there, but that’s probably going to haunt him for the rest of his life. And since it was recent, he’s still trying to figure out how to handle the whole thing. I’m not making any excuses for him, because he didn’t have any reason to attack you, regardless of any dream, but he seriously wouldn’t do that under any other circumstances.” She puts an assuring hand on your shoulder and smiles. You smile back and nod once in understanding, saying, “I believe you.” She pats your back, and you both turn to continue on your walk. A few moments pass, and she lets out another laugh. You teasingly ask her with a smile on your face, “What is it now?”

“I mean, it’s obvious that Ezra’s been through some shit, because the guy’s fucking weird as hell.” Your helmets are filled with your cackling as thoughts of the strange man play out in your head. Cee jokes, “I mean, little bird? His confusing speech pattern in general? Someone who talks in crosswords is either an ancient person who is trying to be clever in their last days because that’s the only form of strength they have left or just some asshole who finds enjoyment in verbally tricking people.” Another few moments of giggling pass before she ends with, “And what’s with the drawl?” She turns to you, the injuries in your throat burning from laughing so hard, “Have you ever heard someone else, in the entire Bakhroma System, talk like that?” You shake your head while wheezing and she says, “I haven’t either. So how did that weirdo even get here?”

The surrounding forests may be quiet, but the inside of your suits are filled with the joyful laughter of two friends who continue on their merry way to find some aurelac.

What yesterday lacked in aurelac, it made up for in emotional gains. You had spent the rest of the day with Cee, strengthening your tender bond, exploring the terrain that The Blue had to offer. Ezra kept to his promise and checked in on you two hourly, making sure that you hadn’t run into any other travelers or went too far off the grid. Your group hadn’t crossed paths with any other citizens of the galaxy since you landed, which didn’t surprise or disappoint any of you; the three of you needed some peacetime for regrouping.

You start today by scanning the pod’s dashboard of lights to make sure nothing is out of order. Because of his contempt to the idea of you prospecting, Ezra had assigned you to be the pod’s programmer. Pods were cheap to rent, so they were justifiably subject to malfunctions. Given that Cee and Ezra were tasked with mapping out The Blue and harvesting aurelac, you obliged to take the responsibility of operating the astronomical vehicle. The other job you had been given was keeper of the harvested aurelac. Once in its containers, you were to check on the gems every day and make sure that none had cracked during transport. The problem is that you haven’t had any luck at finding such valuables. It has been documented that The Blue does contain aurelac, but that it is extremely difficult to find. However, the average gem on The Blue is thrice the size of that which The Green holds. So the size and abundance differences are a lawful tradeoff.

While you’re analyzing a digital screen on the dashboard, an expressive yawn escapes a man’s mouth. You twist to see Ezra stretching his arm out, eyes and nose scrunched in delight at the wringing out of his muscles. A smile graces your face as you take in his exaggerated display of awakening, and he mirrors your smile when he opens his eyes. His arm relaxes at his side, and a raspy morning voice greets you, “Hi.” You smirk at his unadorned statement and say back, “Hi.” He holds your gaze for a moment before turning to pick his mechanical arm up off the floor next to him. After losing his arm on The Green, his prospecting abilities fell drastically. He had to take out a loan to pay for the artificial limb, but it would restore his talents, so it was a fair deal. That’s why the three of you had gone on this mission, rather than building your friendship on Puggart Bench: to harvest aurelac to repay the loan.

Cee grabs both you and Ezra’s attention as she wakes with a start. Getting up and out of her pilot’s chair, she merrily folds her blankets and marches over to her equipment hatch. You and Ezra share a look of bewilderment, and he questions, “Good morning?” She flips around to you both, forgetting that you were in the pod with her. She cheers, “Good morning!” Reading the two confused expressions that watch her, she explains, “I want to go and look at this area that we missed yesterday. It has a lot of hills, so maybe that’s an indicator of more deposits. I was going to look at it yesterday, but then we came together for lunch, and I completely forgot about it until now.” Noting that she is the only one in the pod that is anywhere near awake, she asks both you and Ezra, “Is it okay if I go by myself?”

Memories of the last 36 hours flicker in your head, discomforting your nerves. It’s not that you don’t trust Ezra, but you don’t trust Ezra. The outburst that he had the other night frightened the shit out of you, and you’ve been wary to interact with him at all, let alone without Cee present to diffuse the situation if it got too tense. The fear he had shoved upon you was still fresh, but the excitement in Cee’s face and your tiresome brain convinced you that it would be okay. Maybe during this time alone you could patch things up with him. Him and Cee had given you a general rundown of what had happened on The Green when you first met, but you could prod Ezra about the details. Hopefully you could uncover some explanations to his night terrors.

You look over at him to gauge his reaction to her proposition, and he’s staring at you with puppy-dog eyes. His mouth is turned up in a soft smile, and you can’t help but grin at the way his hair is still unruly from his sleep. Suddenly you feel a pleasant heat between your legs, and you can’t tell if it’s just your body waking up or the overwhelming desire to pepper a million kisses over the sleepy man’s face. Refusing to admit to yourself that the latter is the true culprit of your wetness, you shake your head slightly to rock you out of your trance and say to Cee, “Yeah, that would be fine.” Ezra’s smile at you widens before he turns to Cee and inputs, “I concur. Like always, just be sure to watch your surroundings carefully. You’ll find us here when you return.” She nods once and turns to her equipment hatch, signaling you and Ezra to turn to yours as well to give her some privacy as she changes. Once changed, she closes her hatch, puts her helmet on and departs, “I’ll be on channel one. See you guys later!” You and Ezra both give halfhearted waves, still too tired to formulate any meaningful words. The door to the pod closes behind her, and you are alone with Ezra.

The anticipation of being alone with him made you more anxious than how you feel now, letting your eyes fall to the man still on the floor. He’s already looking up at you, the lazy smile still pulling at his cheeks. The desire to invite yourself into his bed, wrap yourself in his blankets and limbs in order to match the warmth that is flooding your genitals, and doze off into a lustful nap tries to take over your mind. You fight it with everything you have and make your way over to your pilot’s chair. Positioning yourself so that you’re facing Ezra, he simply asks you, “Hungry?” You nod your head and he reaches behind himself. His hand reappears with a Bits Bar, tossing it to you. The only sounds that fill the pod are the crinkling of the wrappers and your respective chewing. Although you’re both preoccupied with eating, Ezra’s silence is deafening. He tended to drop his confusing lingo when talking to you, since he wasn’t trying to trick you. He hadn’t had the courage to reveal his true feelings to you yet, which will be so poetic and heartfelt it will make you sick to your stomach, so he stuck to simple statements. He wanted you to note the difference between his conversations with you and other people, so he made it a very clear point to forgo his prose and expansive vocabulary. He wanted you to note that he revealed his truest sentiments to you and tried his best to hide them from others.

The peaceful nature of the morning encouraged you to bring up an irritating topic with him, “I only want to prospect because I want to help you guys.” He tries to keep his eyes on his food, knowing that looking into your eyes will ignite his possessive and protective nature, “I know that. And it doesn’t matter how many motives you come up with, birdie, there will never be a time when you’re in my care that you will prospect. That’s the extent that I will let this conversation fester to.” His dismissive demeanor infuriates you. You fire back at him, trying not to let your tension leak into your voice, “I’m not Cee. You are not my parent or my guardian, you’re my partner. So there’s no social expectation that I have to submit to your desires.” His irritation grows, entertaining his fingers by folding the wrapper, “That is technically true. But a good partner will never put their partner at risk. And I have deemed it risky for you to prospect.” His retaliation sets you off. You didn’t want this to turn into an argument, but you also don’t want to back down from this. Your eyebrows crease together in frustration, your arms cross and your mouth sets itself in a frown.

He looks up from his distraction and becomes infuriated by your look. Now he’s pissed. He begins a verbal knife fight, “Maybe if you had experienced what it’s like to have a shitty partner, you would appreciate my efforts to protect you.”

“I’m not ungrateful.”

“In a way, you are. You abandoned everything you had on Puggart Bench once you met me and Cee. You had friends, a nice family, a stable living situation, a good education. Don’t blame me for a position that you put yourself in.”

“First of all, that’s how it looked to you. Second, a good education in prospecting! Maybe if you weren’t staring at my ass every second of every day, you would have asked me what I was studying. I can probably prospect better than you can.”

“I’d find pure, mocking enjoyment in seeing you try to harvest. I would bet my life that I can prospect better than you can, even with my impediment!” He motions to his mechanical arm.

“You wouldn’t have the impediment if you weren’t so fucking devious! And don’t even get me started on the arrogance, or the fucking pretentiousness!”

Your overheated exchange comes to a halt when the pod’s door opens. Cee climbs in, and you and Ezra try to mask your fury for each other as much as you can. She acknowledges the two of you and says, “Just need an air filter.” The atmosphere turns awkward as you watch her get what she needs out of her hatch. She’s leaving as soon as she came in, and you hold up a parting hand and say, “Be safe. Have fun.” She tilts her chin at you, and Ezra chimes in, “Be safe, Sparrow.” She exits, disappearing into The Blue.

Her interruption quelled the fire that burned between you and Ezra, subsequently drowning you in a wave of guilt over your words. Ezra’s looking down at his hands, shadows keeping his expression unreadable. You uncross your arms in defeat as you feel tears gather on your bottom eyelids. Opening your mouth to apologize, Ezra puts his hand up and directs, “Don’t apologize.” You protest, “But-” He cuts you off, “Don’t. Apologize.” You audibly sigh and sit back in your chair, not facing him anymore. You wish you could just kiss him. It would shut the both of you up and finally bring your shared, passionate feelings to the surface. Instead you opt to stare at the program board in front of you. How sexy. Such allure. You roll your eyes at your own naivety.

Both of you sit and replay all of the moments that led you to the peak that you sit atop, questioning how to safely start the descent. You decide to break the silence with a neutral topic, “Why do you call her Sparrow?” Staying turned away from each other, Ezra answers, “Well, now that I have two little birds in my life, I have to distinguish them.” Your heart glows at his comment, but it’s not enough to wipe the somber expression off of your face.

“Why Sparrow though?”

“She’s adaptable. She’s been able to keep a sane mind while traveling through Puggart Bench, The Green, The Ephrate, The Blue. The presence of others doesn’t deter her from her work, yet she’s not aloof to their existence.”

His musings entertain you. Your anger begins to become a thing of the past as you get off of your chair and sit down on the floor a few feet away from him. Being on a literal level playing field only increases your ease.

“What are you?”

He smirks, “A magpie.”

“I should’ve known.”

You share a bit of laughter before he explains, “I’m intelligent in trickery. I take pride in my illusions, but that’s not all I possess. Once I find my mate, I become protective of them, sometimes to the point of absurdity. A magpie male and female share the brunt of building a nest; as all great relationships should split the responsibility of reconciliation equally.” Regarding his last sentence, he raises one eyebrow at you. You stretch your legs out so that the soles of your shoes touch his.

“Magpies mate for life.”

You break your eye contact. You have grown shy from his pointed allusions, so you playfully fiddle his feet with yours. A moment passes before he says, “You’re a snow goose.” Confused, you look up at him, “A snow goose?” He nods enthusiastically, “Yes, a snow goose.” You shake your head, giggling, “I’ve never heard of those.” He leans forward with shock, “Really?” “Yep.” He shakes his head once and stands up to open his equipment hatch above you. He pulls out a book and sits back down, this time beside you. All About Birds. You assume the birds are alphabetized as you watch him flip the book open about 4/5 of the way through, and he presents you with a page: “Snow Goose”. Amused by the fact that he wasn’t lying, you let out a laugh. He laughs with you, “My Goose needs to brush up on her avian animal knowledge.” A minute has to pass before the cackling subsides. Then he paraphrases, “Snow geese are another adaptable bird, preferring to travel in packs. They roost mainly in bodies of water: marshes, ponds, the like. Ringing true to stereotypes of the general breed, they are very territorial of their property once they claim what is theirs. Snow geese have a brilliant white coat, which I equate to your magnificent aura. They are similar to magpies in that they mate for life.”

You look up from the book and are greeted with chocolate eyes glazed in infatuation. Thighs and arms pressed together, you turn to rest your chin on Ezra’s shoulder. Flickering eyes go back and forth between his eyes and his lips, signaling to him that if he wanted to kiss you, you wouldn’t object. He inserts, “Snow geese also don’t lack in paying homage to their reputation of being loud bitches.” You gasp and lay a swat on his chest as he chuckles away at his poking. After he has had his fill of laughing, you return to your resting place on his shoulder and let out a sigh.

A few quiet moments go by before you look up at him and admire the handsome, irritating, brave, stubborn, loving man who are you enamored with. You reach your hand up and comb your fingers through his hair once, twice. He leans into your hand as you continue to brush his locks, “Ezra?” He hums, eyes closing rapidly from the lulling pleasure you’re giving him, “Mm-hm?” You whisper, “I’m sorry.” A stark contrast from earlier, he allows your apology. He opens his eyes and they’re dripping with honest remorse and helpless romance, “I’m sorry too.”

Yesterday didn’t amount to what you had originally planned to accomplish, but it was still a good day. Despite all of the insult hurling and badmouthing, you and Ezra ended the day on a nice note. Getting to the bottom of his nightmares could wait for another time. You both had needed a day of fun together to put aside your hostilities before you embarked on discussing trauma. Cee had returned without a problem, hands void of aurelac but filled with notes of The Blue’s landscape.

You wake up, startled, All About Birds slipping off of your lap and onto the floor. You had sliced it out of Ezra’s dormant fingers after he had fallen asleep, your curiosity piqued from his earlier paraphrasing. Cee’s awake and bustling about in the pod, trying to find something, anything, to eat that isn’t a Bits Bar or a Slurry Pack. As you lean over to pick the book up from the floor, you catch Ezra’s eyes on you.

He’s standing at his equipment hatch, doing some much needed cleaning up. He’s a traveler who believes in organized chaos, that putting things in their “right” place takes up too much valuable time.

You smile up at him shyly and as you sit back upright with the book in your hands he says, “Did you find any specimens that better suit us?” You shake your head, “No, you were pretty damn spot on with your choices.” He flashes a smug grin, one that paints your face pink with amusement. Cee plops down in her chair with a huff of defeat, unwrapping a Bits Bar. Ezra hears her and says, “(Y/N) and I will take today’s assignment, Cee. You’ve warranted yourself a break after your ingenious expeditioning yesterday.” She says, “Good, because my legs feel like jelly.” The three of you laugh and you get up and rush to your equipment hatch. With your and Ezra’s friendship on its way to restoration, you were excited to find what the day would hold. The two of you get dressed in a flash, and you tell Cee before putting on your helmet, “We’ll be on channel one, like always.” She sticks a thumb up from behind her chair, and with that you and Ezra are on your way out of the pod.

The rays of the Sun today are periwinkle, streaming through small gaps in the overhanging vegetation. The air is tinted royal blue, the trees shimmer with teal sparkles, the soil a shade of navy. You inhale deeply as if you can smell the fresh air through your air filter, imagining a place where you could be with your gang without all of this clumsy equipment, without giving up the majesty that this landscape has.

Ezra snaps you out of your daydream, “Where to today, Snow Goose?”

You pull out a map from a pocket on your back and scan it, looking for any uncharted territory. “Let’s go west today. There’s a big chunk of land that we haven’t documented yet.”

He nods and begins your quest by turning to the left and walking. You follow him, folding the map and keeping it in your hands. Little conversation is shared between the two of you for the first bit of the journey and the silences aren’t awkward. The majority of your time is spent looking up, admiring the scenery as the Sun comes up and illuminates more of the land. Different hues of blue are unearthed as light reaches deeper crevices: the underside of leaves show turquoise veins, the inside of a hollowed tree trunk boasts a purplish-blue hybrid. The puddles on the ground vary in shape, size, depth and color, and are scattered about the ground in an oddly methodical fashion.

After a while of marveling at the sights, you regret getting dressed so quickly. You hadn’t brushed your hair properly, and the braid you had put it in was loose. Rubbing against your helmet with all of your head turning, the braid had fallen almost completely out of his shape and it was threatening to combine with your sweat to mold to your face. You instinctively put your hands to your helmet to try to push it out of your way, but you are met with glass resistance. Ezra, peeking over his broad shoulder to make sure he hadn’t lost you, notices your frustration, “Let me help you with that.” You furrow your eyebrows at him and wave off his help, “No, it’s okay. I’ll deal with it.” He shook his head quickly and spins on his heels, looking around and spots two conveniently placed tree stumps, one behind the other, that will accommodate te his fantasy. He gestures to them, “Have a seat, Goose.”

You stand there, not wanting to indulge in the dream. This was just as much of a dream for you as it is for Ezra. He watched you, everyday before you went out of the pod, braid your hair and willed that one day it would be his hands that would twist your smooth locks. And everyday you braided your hair, you would envision him standing behind you, concentrating hard on his handiwork, his hot breath cascading down the back of your neck, his knuckles grazing your back. Ezra starts walking over to the stumps and motions for you to follow.

You obey his command and sit down on the seat in front of his, scooting back so that he doesn’t have to reach very far to touch you. A depressing gasp fills the air as you detach your helmet and set it in your lap. Ezra’s gloves appear over your shoulder, “Can you hold these for me?” You were already turned on enough by the thought of him braiding your hair, now he would be braiding your hair with naked fingers and you got to hold the battered material that guarded those impossibly large hands almost everyday? Yeah, this is an illusion. You wait to wake up from your slumber. but are reminded that this situation is very real when Ezra’s fingers reach around your head to brush the sweaty hairs out of your face. His touch is gentle, unlike from the incident a few days ago. Now that you aren’t fighting for your life, you can take in the small, romantic details that you didn’t notice before. The pads of his fingers are rough but not scratchy. You see his fingernails, neatly trimmed and free from any sort of grime. How he pulls off that sorcery while being a prospector, regardless of the gloves, you will never know.

You tense as his fingers glide over your bruised neck, collecting your hair and bringing it all to your back. He holds your hair in one hand while the other stutters on a bruise. He senses your unease and strangles out, “I’m sorry.” You grip his gloves a little tighter, trying to fight your tears from spilling, and shake your head slightly, “It’s okay.” You’re ready to move past it. It’s important to remember that it happened, but you’re ready to rebuild your relationship. Like he jabbed at you the other day, leaving Puggart Bench had been tough for you. You worry that your leaving left behind permanent scars that would impact the relationships you had there. Ezra and Cee feel like the only friendships that you can count on to last. You need them.

Knocking you out of your despair, Ezra pulls your hair to one of your shoulders and rests his chin on the other. He turns his head so that his breath spills across your bare neck. He runs a finger lightly across a bruise and asks, mouth millimeters away from your skin, “May I?” You nod, and he plants an imperceptibly light kiss on your neck. You let a tear dribble down your cheek, wiping it away as quickly as it ran.

A thought enters your mind: my god, his lips are soft as fuck. The combination of the softness with the tickling of his patchy facial hair was heavenly, if not orgasmic. You giggle at your own thoughts* (*thots), intriguing Ezra, “What is it?” You decide to be transparent, “Nothing, it’s just that your mouth is soft as fuck.” A hearty laugh erupts from his chest, “Now I don’t want to put an end to your seductive observations, Goose, but I want this to be an innocent affair.” You smile and sit up straight, letting him know that you are willing to drop the flirtation. For now.

His fingers separate your hair into three sections and he says, referencing the other day, “As a treaty to our battles, I would like to clarify that I don’t think you’re ungrateful.” A soft smile graces your face and you input your own treatise, “And I don’t think you’re arrogant or fucking pretentious. You are a little devious though.”

He chuckles, “If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be the scoundrel that I am, now would I?”

You shake your head no. No, he wouldn’t be the scoundrel that you are not so secretively in love with. As you sit there, enjoying the limited amount of time you are allowed with your helmet off, the details of your dreams prove to be true: you can feel Ezra’s concentrated breath warm the nape of your neck, his knuckles tap your suit when he twists your hair a certain way. You yearn for the day that you will be able to touch each other, feel each other’s true weight and texture, without the suits getting in the way.

“So, if you’re so good at prospecting, why don’t you tell me how you do it?”

His tone is playful and your situation could not be more peaceful, so you decide to indulge him, “Well, first you have to find a deposit, which is usually indicated by a lump in the ground.”

He verifies your first step, “Uh-huh...?”

“Then you want to pour a solution into the deposit’s hole. You don’t want to pour too much though, or else it could cause an explosion.”

Ezra’s hands stop. You turn and ask him, “Is everything okay?” He nods, his eyes first staring off into the landscape and then refocusing once they land on you. He continues to involuntarily nod as he says, “That’s what permitted Cee and I to escape The Green. She threw an entire pint of solution into a deposit. Nearly blew the entire place to bits.”

You feel rude when you realize that your mouth is hanging open in shock. You close your mouth and words about his time on The Green tumble out of his, “I am devious, indeed. But there were people--beings--there that would make me look like an angel. I take responsibility for killing Cee’s father because he tried to hijack my stash. A man’s work is no petty thing, Goose. I ended up having to kill two others there, in the end. I overestimated our luck after the first one, thinking that it would’ve been a simple escape. I killed the other mercilessly. You see now, Goose, the dangers that I encountered on The Green alone. I would never be able to forgive myself if I allowed you into harm’s way, and you became a tragedy.”

You reach a hand out and cup his face, which he leans into. He still holds onto your hair, your braid halfway done, and you say, “I was ungrateful, and I’m sorry for that.” He shakes his head once, taking your hand from his face and kissing your palm, “Now you see why I wanted to strangle you in my nightmare. I dreamt that you were someone else, some other thing, that was threatening to drag our trio back to that wretched land.” You both breathe out a shaky laugh, trying to lighten the mood. Even though it was nervous, you are glad that the both of you are taking some steps in the right direction.

He clears his throat and sits up straight, “Now, after you dodge an eruption, what is the next step of prospecting?”

You face ahead and let him continue your braid as you speak, “Next you want to remove the husk from the deposit, and cut the cord that connects the two. Then you want to remove the inner membrane from the husk.”

He quizzes you, “And what’s inside the inner membrane?”

“The aurelac gem.”

“Correct. Continue.”

“Then you want to cut out any blisters, but if you cut too carelessly you could puncture it, which will release acid. If that happens then the gem ceases to be worth anything.”

“That’s where my expertise usually falters.”

“Finally you want to remove the gem from the inner membrane, douse it in fazer solution, and you have your stone.”

He tests you again, “What is the purpose of the fazer solution?”

“To stabilize the gem and increase its clarity. Higher clarity grants higher payout.”

He pats your shoulder twice and ties your hair off with the hair tie you used for your loose braid, “Fantastic job, Goose. Couldn’t have explained it better myself.” He stands, walks around your stumps and holds a hand out to you. You take it, even though you were perfectly capable of getting up yourself. You got to hand him his gloves, and he stops you, “Wait a minute.” Both of his hands come to the sides of your face and push a few stray hairs behind your ears; the finishing touches to his masterpiece. You can tell he did a good job without having to look at it, since it didn't feel too loose or too tight, and the problem you had before was now solved. His tongue darts out and runs the edge of his bottom lip before he takes a step back, throwing his hands up, “Voila!” You giggle, eliciting a smile from Ezra wide enough to make the skin around his eyes crinkle in happiness. You hand him his gloves, which he puts on before you both secure your helmets back to your suits.

Ezra checks in with Cee, “Everything alright, Sparrow?”

A few seconds pass before she answers, “Yep, just listening to my music. Everything alright on your end?”

“Affirmative. We’ll be staying outside for lunch. Over and out.”

Ezra’s eyes gaze into yours for a brief moment before they move past your shoulder, eyebrows raised and mouth agape. You ask, “What?” before turning and following his stare. A patch of undisturbed soil, littered with lumps. In his rush by you, Ezra grabs your hand and pulls you along with him as you run to the potential aurelac deposits, laughing at his enthusiasm. He halts at the brink of the field, choosing which one he wants to dig up first. You suggest, “Why don’t we start from the outside and work our way in?” He nods, “That’s a great idea,” and drops to his knees. You stare at the mound in front of him as you sink down to the ground, pulling out your map. You mark where this field is located as he preps his harvesting tools. Once he’s prepared, he sighs and takes your hand, “Do you want to help me, Goose?”

You nearly spring to your feet with excitement, “Would I ever!”

He beams at your reaction and begins the process by clearing the dirt away from the mound to reveal the deposit. “How about for this first time, you just hand me the tools?” You nod, taking this as slowly as he wants to, “Whatever you’d like.” He grins as he cuts a hole in the deposit, knife already in hand. “Solution,” he requests. You hand him the bottle and he does the honor of pouring it over the deposit. A white steam emits from the hole, and he reaches in and grabs the husk. “Let me cut this cord, you can do the next one.” You agree and watch as he cuts it with his knife. He places the husk on a flat patch of land and requests his next tool, “Scalpel.” You hand him a Ralon Crusader Laser Scalpel and watch him work.

Laser scalpels are primarily used for precision work, like this step and the removal of blisters, while any generic knives will do the job when cutting the cord or opening up the deposit.

You watch as he makes an incision in the husk, handing you back the tool once he’s done. He wrangles the inner membrane out of the husk and holds his hand out. You know that he wants the scalpel back, and you give it to him. He flashes you a smile for your readiness, but then hands you the scalpel back. You take it, confused, and he says, “I’d like you to cut the blisters off of this one.”

Your pupils narrow and your muscles grow tense. You know the steps of prospecting backwards and forwards, but you had never carried out a lab experiment, let alone prospected aurelac in the wild. Ezra lays a gentle hand on your forearm, “I have eternal faith in you, Goose.” You move toward the membrane and turn the scalpel on. Ezra holds it steady for you as you go to remove the blister. There’s only one, which is a slight relief. You plunge the scalpel into the membrane, thinking that the skin would be thicker, and a hiss greets you. You pull back as the membrane deflates and an amber liquid seeps from it, the hissing never stopping. Your mortified eyes look up into Ezra’s and you immediately apologize, “I’m so sorry, Ezra, I thought that-” He raises a hand, “It is not a big deal in the slightest, Goose. I’ve never come across a prospector that didn’t puncture the membrane, or fail to mix the fazer solution correctly the first time.” He senses your lingering humiliation and grabs your shoulders, turning you even more towards himself, “Really, it’s fine.” You want to melt into his hands, crawl into his lap and just hide there until you feel better, but you know that you have to move on.

He points to the mound behind you, “Let’s try that one.” You stay on the ground and move the tools with you, while Ezra stands and walks over before he squats. You hand him the knife, watch him repeat the process and hand him tools as he needs them: slice the deposit, squirt in the solution, remove the husk, sever the cord, open the husk, take the membrane out. He looks to you, “I want you to try again.” Turning the scalpel on, its vibrations feel more vigorous against your heightened nerves than they did last time. Ezra assumes his position of securing the slippery pod, and you begin cutting. Again only one blister, you circle the blemish with the blade. Once the circle is complete, Ezra reminds you, “It’s easiest to pull it off with your fingers.” You follow his directions, turning the instrument off and setting it to the side. You pull on sticky flesh, and the part that you cut comes off easily. Ezra sighs, “Incredible.” Sliding his fingers in between the membrane and the aurelac, he pulls the rock out and discards the pouch. He calls for the fazer solution, which you hand him and watch as he washes the gem with it. Another hissing sound can be heard, much quieter than the one that came when you punctured the membrane. He holds the aurelac up to the blue Sun, and both of you observe, amazed, at how the light shines through the gem. Aurelac is an amber-hued stone, sometimes with ripples in the color, encased in a foggy crystal. The blue light complements the orange shade of the gem exquisitely.

Ezra turns to you, eyes bright with satisfaction, hands muddied with gristle, “Superb job, Goose!” He leans into you, helmet shields touching and reaches forward to kiss your glass. You smile and laugh with him in gratification. You can’t wait to harvest the rest of the mounds with your partner.

A warmth you have never felt before bestows itself to you this early morning. It flourishes in your heart and subsequently pumps through your body, reaching from the crown of your head all the way down to the soles of your feet. It stretches from your ribs to the ends of your fingertips, running in cycles back and forth. The cause of this pleasure was not from the large aurelac haul you had pulled yesterday, but from the man that you harvested with. Ezra’s arms encircle you, heavy with sleep. You’re swaddled in his blankets with him, the depths of sleep tempting you to fall back down to their level of subconscious. The Sun hasn’t risen yet.

You had crawled into Ezra’s awaiting lap after Cee had fallen asleep the night before. It wasn’t that you felt like you had to hide your feelings from her, but the dynamic still made you feel a little bit awkward, even with Ezra’s reassurance and Cee’s encouragement to pursue him. You would feel more comfortable if she were to wake up and find the two of you in your designated sleeping arrangements, and not in an amorous yet innocent entanglement of limbs.

You can practically feel a rainbow sprout from your chest as you look up at Ezra, finding delight in his relaxed expression. His hair is messy not from the tossing and turning of a restless night’s sleep, but the enamored strokes of a yearning partner’s fingers. The whirlwind of malachite butterflies in your stomach nudges you away from sleep. You press your hands into Ezra’s chest, where they have been resting, and turn to nuzzle your nose into his collarbone before you start to slip out of his embrace. Gently lifting his arms off of you in an effort to keep him asleep, you fail. He cups the side of your face and rubs his thumb back and forth against your cheek a few times before he lets his arm fall to his side. He gives you a smile of understanding, allowing you to leave him only because he will dream about holding onto you for forever once he drifts off again. You give him a playful boop on his nose before you stand and trudge over to your pilot’s chair, sinking down into your own cold blankets. You try your best to recreate the heat you just deserted by bundling yourself up tight, but it’s not the same. However uncomfortable, you quickly succumb to the temptation of sleep.

The true morning gives rise to an energetic group of prospectors. Still joyful about yesterday’s collection, you, Cee and Ezra are enthusiastic to stroll around The Blue again and see what else could be in store for you. Stretching in your chair, Ezra grabs your raised hands and leans over the back of your seat. You look up into his eyes and he greets you, “Good morning, Goose.” You smile and tease, “Good morning, Magpie.”

Cee blurts out, “Finally, you give her a nickname too!” You and Ezra laugh as he releases your hands, and you turn to face Cee at her equipment hatch. “I like Magpie too. Very fitting,” she raises an eyebrow at Ezra and he shoots you a wink. You get up to fold your blanket, Ezra glides over to his own equipment hatch, and Cee says, “You know, I say you guys last night.” Your face instantly beats red, and Cee notices, “No, it’s fine. It makes me happy to see a couple that can get over obstacles and love each other through it all.” You still feel a bit embarrassed, but shrug it off.

A word she chose makes you question Ezra, “Are we a couple?”

“Of course. We’ve always been partners, haven’t we?”

Suited up, the three of you enter The Blue. After your daily assessment of the land (beautiful, as always) you turn to Cee and wait for her direction. She had mapped out the majority of the Blue Moon the day that you and Ezra stayed inside the pod, so you trusted her guidance the most. Ezra asks, “Where to today, birdies?” Cee analyzes the map before pointing to an area, “This block was filled with hills. It didn’t look like there were many deposits, but then again I’m not the best at spotting them.” Eager to start, you ask, “Which way do we go?” Ezra glances at the map, points to the right and commences your expedition, “This is the way.”

💘taglist: @pascalpanic

#ezra x reader #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect #ezra fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #ezra x fem!reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pascalitos #found family trope #prospect 2018

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kaiparker-avengerssmut · 4 years ago

Text

Their Doll 15

Bucky

B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis: y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: Tony throws a party, bucky returns

Warnings: kissing, swearing

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

It's been nearly six months since I escaped HYDRA a second time, and since then all me and Steve have done is have sex. It's glorious, the freedom (and the pleasure) that comes with being with Steve, and I love him more and more every day. He told me he loved me about a months ago, over a candle-lit dinner and a bunch of roses. It was so sweet, but I am yet to say the words back to him. Well, not that I've been talking much, per say.

My voice was slowly returning, yet I still couldn't string together more than two words and my voice was far from being strong or sounding like it used to.

Bruce had miraculous found some medication that helped, and abashedly admitted that if the sex was helping me make any noise, it should continue.

One of the main issues, is that almost everyone except my dad had been walking on eggshells around me for months. And in new exactly why. It's because they're yet to bring him the soldier.

And if I'm being a hundred percent honest, I'm slightly happy they haven't yet. After all, I don't know if I could bury my feelings towards him and that wouldn't be fair to Steve. And yet in being fair to Steve, I was being cruel to the soldier. After all, to make Steve comfortable, I'm mentally condemning the soldier to continue the horrid and violent lifestyle that comes with HYDRA.

I shake the overcrowding thoughts off, resetting my stance before landing a pinch to the bag.

"Good." Steve praises, stood beside the swinging bag with his arms crossed over his chest. I continue to punch it hard, focusing more on the strength than the technique as I try and will away the flurries thoughts in my mind. "Why don't we try that thing you always get wrong?" Steve asks, almost mockingly. I shoot him a glare. He chuckled, unwrapping my fists for my before bringing me over to the table where our water sat. I took a big pull of the refreshing liquid, barely paying attention as Steve readies the targets.

When I saunter over, he hands me a set of small, but agile, blades before stepping away. I clear my throat, putting myself into the correct stance before giving my boyfriend a nod. Steve nods back, pressing the button before the human-shaped targets begin to move. They're staggered, the last one so far back I can never seem to hit the bullseye. No matter how many times a I try - which is at least once a day - I can never hit it.

The aim is to hit the targets in order of closest to furthest, burying the blade in the mannequins' chests where the red dots it. I take a deep breath, letting my wrist fall loose. I release the blade of my exhale, watching with narrowed eyes as it sinks itself into the black dummy's chest. I let out a breath I was holding, moving onto the next one. Bullseye. Bullseye. Bullseye. Onto the last target, my vision focused, my mind centred on the farther and the target only.

Inhale. Focus. Exhale. Throw.

"Holy shit!" I exclaimed, before my hand quickly flys to my mouth, slapping over my lips in shock. It was almost cartoonish, the way Steve's eyes widened like a deer in headlights before the brightest, wolfish grin became his lips.

The knife had wizzed through the air, breezing past the other targets before the tip was piercing smoothly through the little red dot at its heart. Bullseye.

"Holy shit." I repeat, a smile pulling the corners of my mouth up. Steve rushed forward, engulfing my knees a bone-crushing hug before lifting me from the ground and spinning around with me in his arms.

"You spoke!" He rejoiced.

"I can talk! My voice - it's back!" I was starstruck, completely and utterly speechless. I can talk.

"Holy shit indeed." A voice came from behind us.

"Tony." Steve greeted as he let me down, my feet already carrying me across the room until I was enveloped in my dad's arms too.

"We should celebrate. I'm throwing you a party." Tony decided, placing a kiss to my hair. "Tonight. Wear something nice, both of you." He pulled away, looking pointedly at me and Steve before retreating with a smile.

...

I stood before my mirror, hands smoothing over the dark blue fabric laying over my hips. I breathed deeply, head tilting to the side as I studied myself. I wore a silky blue dress that cling to my waist and fell elegantly down from my hips, hitting my ankles and presenting a thigh-high slit on one side. The dress barely had a back, the front showing just enough cleavage to be considered teasing. Around my neck I wore a necklace steve had given me the night he told me he loved me, and I couldn't help but breath out a laugh at the small silver Captain America shield charm hanging from it. I wore some shoes I new I'd regret - trainers. Plain, white canvas shoes that totally ruined the look. But I'd never worn heels before, and I didn't feel like embarrassing myself at my own party.

My hair fell over my shoulders in loose curls, make up simple as I never tended to wear any anyway.

I took a deep breath, opening my room door to be greeted by Steve. He was dashing, clad in a navy blue suit and tie, his hair slightly messy bit in a hot way, and his blue eyes gleaming.

"You look breathtaking, doll." He commented, eyes scanning over my body, clearly lingering on the slit in my dress. I smirked slightly, looping my arm with his outstretched one.

"You look rather handsome yourself." I smiled sweetly, not missing the way steve held back a laugh when he finally noticed my choice of footwear. "Hey!" I laughed, slapping his arm playfully.

"I'm sorry, doll. I just didn't quite expect it." He sniggered, making me scoff and roll my eyes.

"And what did you expect? Three foot tall, strappy heels? When have you even seen me in anything besides trainers or tactical boots, Rogers?" I asked pointedly, shutting Steve up. When we reached the main room when my part was already in full swing, Steve pulled my close to him, coaxing a gasp from my lips.

"And where would you be hiding your knives tonight?" Steve murmured in my ear, nibbling on the lob as his arm kept me firmly pressed against him. It was a little joke we'd formed, as every time I was out in public steve managed to find a knife on me somewhere - in a pocket, down my bra, tucked into the waistband of whatever I was wearing, you name it. To anyone else, we simple looked to be having a normal conversation like any couple would've, but it was much more than that. I assumed in his question Steve was referring to my backless dress that hung so low there's no way I'd even find a way to wear underwear with it. So I went without.

"If tonight goes how I'm planning, you'll have plenty of time to find out for yourself." I whispered against his neck, smirking when his adam's apple bobbed. I sauntered away slowly, making sure my hips swayed as I walked.

The party flew by, people I could hardly remember greeting me and telling me how much they'd missed me as if they'd been some kind of surrogate mother or something to me.

That's where I currently found myself, a fake smile so big it was probably obvious plastered over my face as I nodded along whenever May said something. Peter stood beside her, champagne flute that I just new was filled with appletiser clutched in his hand, smirk hidden behind the rim of the glass at my pained expression.

"So how long have you been home?" May asked, smile so genuine it was embarrassing how fake my own was.

"Only about six months." I smiled back, eyes darting around the room nervously looking for an escape.

"Six months?! You should've met up with Peter sooner! You would've hung out with her, right Peter?" May exclaimed, turning to her nephew who was clearly trying to hold back a snigger as he answered with a quick 'of course'. I sent him a glare that briskly morphed back into a smile the second May was turned my way again.

The smile turned much more real the second I saw my dad climb up onto the table across the room, glass and spoon in his hands. May and Peter spun to look at him along with everyone else in the room when the captivating sound of the metal clanging gracefully against the champagne flue echoed in the room.

"Thank you, thank you, everyone!" Tony called, chatter diminishing in the crowd at his voice. A smile - an actual smile - graced my lips when I realised he was making a speech about me being home. "I'm just here tonight, talking to you all, about my daughter!" Tony began, a small applause following as many pairs of eyes sought for me in the crown.

"You know, the day I found you laying on my doorstep," he stated, taking a swig of his drink, "I thought: how the hell am I gonna raise this stupid ass kid that's been dumped on my like some sort of...animal." I gasped, tears bubbling in my eyes. I thought we were past this- this hate. "This fucking bastard that's come from the filthy streets."

"Tony, that's enough." Nat says from where she stood beside the table, tugging the man's ankle in an attempt to get him down.

"You're drunk." Steve stated from beside him, anger written over his usually perfect features.

"It's all you! It's you, y/n!" He shouted.

"Dad.." I mumbled through my tears, every head in the room locked on my as my bottom lips wobbled aggressively.

"You killed me the day you showed up, and ever day I see you I realise how much I regret taking you in, raising you as my own." He spat with a venom I'd never heard in my dad's voice before.

"Tony!" Steve shouted, but he merely pushed the super soldier's words aside.

"You're not special, y/n! And you never were! Just a Thorne in my side," he explained, climbing down from the table with a slight drunken wobble. "That's why I picked Peter. Smart, agile, unique." He rambled on, making his was through the sea of people that parted instantly for him until he was right in front of me, Peter and May. "So why don't you make this easy, and don't make me chose between you a second time." Tony claimed.

"What? Because you'd chose him?" I sobbed, hand covering my mouth as I bit back the tears.

"Tony, don't!" Steve snapped, now at my side and holding his hands on my hips possessively.

"If you chose him over you're own daughter, Tony...I swear to god somebody better hide you in the time it takes me to find a gun." Nat glared, standing to my side with a wicked look in her eyes.

"Y/n is your daughter." Bruce tried to reason, flinching away when Tony shot him a look that could kill.

"Yeah, I'd chose him." Tony finally settles, silence ensuing after the piercing shatter of a glass broke the room. May stood there, broken glass at her feet and mouth open so wide her jaw must've physically hurt.

"Y/n, I- I am so sorry.." Peter barely whispered from beside May, his own face red from a mixture of threatening tears and embarrassment. I have Tony a dirty look, leaning forward slightly and spitting at the ground in front of him.

"Fuck you." I bit like a viper, spinning harshly on my heel and storming from the room, trying so hard to hide my tears until I was out of sight.

Once I'd reached the stairs, I was kicking my heels off and springing up the steps, two at a time. Reaching the top, I clutched the railing for a second as if to ground myself as a sob ripped through me, my palm covering my mouth again as if it could stop the sounds. I padded quickly across the carpeted floor, fumbling with the handle of my door before pushing it open blindly, stumbling inside.

A sharp gasp was stolen from me when I walked in, more tears clouding my eyes. I hastily swiped them away with my palms, desperate to get a good look of the man before me. His cerulean eyes, long and thick dark hair, his undeniably visible metal arm...

Then his lips met mine. Not desperate or hard like usual, but gentle and slow, as if I would shatter to a thousand pieces if he even held my soft face with too much pressure. "Y/n." he said seriously, but a small smile still glistening in his deep blue eyes. "Soldier." I responded, reflecting his playful seriousness. He pulled me in for another passionate kiss, my whole body relishing in its tenderness. The soldier bought his mouth next to my ear, leaning over me and holding my waist carefully. My thoughts raced one another over and over, but there was always a clear winner: I had him back.

His compassionate whisper floated past my ear, dancing around the loose curls of hair that were tucked messily behind my ear, a whirlwind of emotions tunnelling through me, allowing the butterflies to roam free as he murmured "It's Bucky, by the way."

"We're done."

A frown settled across my face, my head snapping the the side to see Steve stood gobsmacked and clearly hurt in the door. He must've followed me, to make sure I was alright and now he's seen this, and - how long had he been standing there?

"Steve, it's not what it looks like." Bucky tried, now also looking at the Super Soldier.

"So it's not my best friend kissing my girl? Hm?" Steve almost whimpered, as if the words physically hurt him to say.

"Well, yes, but-"

"No. No buts. I don't give a shit what you have to say." Steve interjected me, the harshness of his voice cutting through me like a knife. "Have a nice fucking life." He spat, before turning and retreating out of the door. I started wistfully after him, before glancing back to Bucky and opening my mouth to speak.

"Go. I'll talk to you later." He answered for me, a reassuring glint in his blue-grey eyes. I gave him a small nod and a grateful smile before instantly running after Steve.

"Steve! Steve, wait!" I called after him, but the man's strides were so damn long I couldn't catch up to him even whilst running. "Please, let me explain!" He turned around at that, my body colliding with the wall of muscle that was his torso.

"What's there to explain, y/n?" He said, defeated.

"I- I don't really know. I just don't want to lose you." I murmured, placing my hands of his chest and looking up at the man through my lashes. He wrapped his hands around my wrists before yanking them away from his chest, tears stinging in my eyes. "I love you, Steve." I whispered, for the first time. Steve averted his gaze with a frustrated sigh.

"It's a little too late for that. You can tell Bucky he won't be hearing from me either." Steve spoke, dropping my wrists and turning to leave again. I didn't follow him this time, I didn't call after him, I just sunk to my knees, head in my hands, and cried.

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lovelyirony · 4 years ago

Note

I am a HUGE winteriron shipper so if that's acceptable for you could you do a fic, however short or long you want with winteriron and the prompt: Russian Bucky. That's it. Russian Bucky. How, why, is up to you but that's the prompt! Thank you!

Bucky does not like that he’s in America again. Even if he is really only here to act as security for Natasha’s new art showing.

It’s loud, friendly, and he just wants to drink in silence. People never stop talking.

Natasha’s first night is all the exclusive donors and previous buyers. He knows some of the people. Bruce is actually his favorite American because he’s awkward and doesn’t like talking anyways, but he has a great way with reviews for art and placement of it.

There’s Clint, who’s a disaster who bought him a tiny bottle of shitty vodka and said “welcome to America! Please don’t kill me,” and Bucky’s not honestly sure why he’s invited because he’s very broke.

“He entertains me,” Natasha says, scarlet lips pulling into a grin as he watches him nearly trip and fall over an untied shoelace. “And he’s...fun. Very American.”

“Didn’t know your type was Americans,” Bucky mutters. “The first thing I know you to have bad taste in.”

“Oh, as if your type is any better,” Natasha mutters.

“And what is my type, exactly?”

“You don’t have one,” Natasha says glibly, “because you prefer staying forever alone and broody.”

“I’m not broody.”

“Your all-black outfit begs difference,” Sharon calls, grinning. “Hey Buck, long-time no-see.”

“Hi Sharon,” Bucky says, smiling slightly.

He sees Steve behind her, almost looking like a golden retriever. They had served together in the army when they were young, and Bucky’d had to drag that stupid boy out of too many fights.

It made them best friends, almost like brothers, and it’s the only reason why he usually adventures out to America.

“Missed seeing you,” Steve says, bringing him into a hug. “There’s only so many times Sharon will tolerate sushi with me.”

“He claims that it’s a miracle food,” Sharon says, rolling her eyes. “I just think he likes it because you like it.”

“I do not!” Steve teases. “Hey, Natasha.”

“Hey stranger,” Nat says, grinning. “Surprised to see you out of running shorts and tank tops.”

“You don’t only see me when I’m running,” Steve says, rolling his eyes. “You come to see Sharon about every week.”

“Yeah but I only have eyes for her,” Natasha says, winking.

“Stop flirting with my wife.”

“Then stop being married to such a beautiful woman.”

Sharon snorts, looking down at her phone, and then back up at Nat.

“Hey, I’ll be right back. I need to let my cousin in. He’s the one I told you about who liked your newspaper collage-work.”

Natasha looks over at Bucky for a moment and oh no. She has her match-making look on her.

“I think you’ll like Tony,” she says grinning.

“I’m sure he’ll be a good client of yours,” Bucky responds, lips pressing into a straight line. “I don’t need to be dating, Romanov.”

“Ooh last name, how scary,” she teases.

Tony is....American.

He’s already laughing loudly with Sharon about some sort of in-joke, and walks right up to Natasha with a smile.

“Miss Romanov, you look as wonderful as your art. It’s an honor to make your acquaintance.”

He then kisses the top of her hand and starts into conversation about how he discovered her art from his assistant, Pepper, and he thought it would be a good fit for his personal home.

Bucky stays in the background, hoping that this talkative machine would follow along with Nat and distract her for an hour or two.

And then she turns.

“Tony...have you met Bucky Barnes? He runs security.”

“I haven’t,” Tony says, smiling. “Nice to meet you. Your parents name you after a family member?”

“President,” Bucky answers stiffly.

“And here I thought you were Russian.”

“I am. They just hated communism.”

Tony barks out a laugh.

“Well, come. Look at art with us and tell me more about yourself.”

“No,” Bucky states. He then turns on his heel and walks away.

No sense in giving this guy hope.

But he’s undeterred.

While he maintains his space, he still talks to Bucky throughout the event.

He comes back the next day with two robots to help wrap the works.

“What,” Bucky says, looking at the two creatures who seem to be bickering.

“They’re fighting over who gets to put the bow on it,” Tony says. “Dummy, put the bow on. You, I’ll give you a bow to put on. No sense in fighting.”

“You named them ‘Dummy’ and ‘You’?”

“Spelled differently,” Tony says. “Dum-E is just...he likes to make oil smoothies, and U has opinions about the alphabet arrangement. Don’t ask them about it. But how are you doing, Bucky?”

“Fine.”

“Only fine? We’ll have to change that. Let me take you out for a burger?”

“No. I don’t like American food. Or Americans.”

“Can’t blame you there,” Tony says with a sigh, but grins anyways. “Let me know if you do change your mind at all though, Barnes.”

Yeah, he won’t be.

Except that Nat likes America, and he thinks she found a muse in Clint, because she told Bucky that she’s staying in America for the next six months at least.

“I hate you,” he says, cursing her out. “Why here?!”

“Why not?” Natasha says. “Their winters are similar, if not nicer. Besides, you can be friends with Steve and not have to see anyone else besides Clint. And maybe Tony. I like Tony.”

“Why do you like him?” Bucky groans. “He talks too quickly. He is too American. I don’t trust his teeth.”

“Don’t trust his dentist then, not the teeth,” she responds with a shrug. “And I like him because he’s good people. Even if he doesn’t seem it. Keep an eye on him for me when he’s around, okay?”

“What, afraid he’ll overpay for your work again?”

“I’d like that,” Natasha muses, thinking about the obscene amount of money he had sent her way, under the guise of “her having too much immense talent not to.”

It was enough to give Bucky quite the generous raise, which was appreciated. But he still didn’t like him.

Tony becomes integrated into their lives with ease.

He likes improving Clint’s building, checking in on Nat, and invading Bucky’s space.

It’s not all bad. Sometimes Tony gives him a hot dog, which is good.

“You’re going to go rail-thin at this rate,” Tony says, shoving a baguette into his hands. “Who goes grocery shopping for you? Mice? Why do you have, like, miniscule portions? I know that Russia is different, but you still get fed.”

“We sacrifice half our food to the leader of Mother Russia,” Bucky deadpans. “And then we get our yearly tracksuit in return.”

Tony laughs, and Bucky kind of likes making him laugh.

Not in that way. Don’t go thinking that.

“Well, regardless. I think you’re almost conning me into doing this.”

“What, me? Getting free food? A whole baguette? I don’t think so,” Bucky says. “But next time, give me soup.”

Tony laughs again.

Bucky didn’t think he’d take him seriously.

“I wasn’t sure what soups you like or if you have allergies, so I brought four different soups,” he answers.

“Tony, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Silence Ice-Pop,” Tony shushes. “This one is black-bean soup, this one is broccoli-cheddar, this one is your standard chicken-noodle, and this one is French onion...”

“Well come on in, then,” Bucky sighs. “You’re gonna have to help me finish this soup.”

He doesn’t know why he does it.

But Tony’s bodyguard had a surprise funeral, can’t make it to a high-up event for Tony, and so Bucky volunteers.

It’s a charity, one that Tony never misses. Ever.

Natasha asks him to do it.

“I know you’ll complain and bitch, but genuinely he-”

“I already told him I’d go,” Bucky says. “Texted him.”

“You have his number?” Natasha questions, brows furrowing. “I thought you hated him.”

“Gave me soup. Can’t hate a guy who gives you soup.”

“Holy shit, are you gonna marry him?”

“Why would I marry him?” Bucky splutters. “What, because I accepted soup?”

“One time a guy called you cute, and you told him that he needed to stop revealing so much about himself because you could kill him,” Nat said. “You haven’t even threatened Tony’s life yet! I can’t believe I didn’t put it together! You like-”

“Do not finish that sentiment,” Bucky threatens. “Do not, if you do-”

“You like him!”

“I don’t!” Bucky hisses. “I do not like an American!”

“You do!” Natasha proclaims, laughing. “Oh my god! You like an American!”

“Shut up!” Bucky groans. “I hate myself!”

Natasha cannot stop laughing, wheezing on the couch. “Holy shit!”

“Do not tell him,” Bucky begs. “Don’t tell anybody.”

“You’re such a nerd,” Natasha snorts. “I won’t tell anybody for two months. But you have to tell him.”

“I don’t have to tell him shit,” Bucky scowls.

“I think you do. I think he could potentially like you.”

“No. I’ll get over it.”

Natasha gives him a flat look.

“You can’t just ‘get over’ a crush.”

“Yes I can. I’m Russian. We can do it.”

“No,” Natasha says simply. “Two months, Yasha! Two months!”

...great.

Now he has to deal with liking an American.

#this prompt is from forever ago so i am deeply sorry i didn't answer sooner #winteriron #bucky is russian. hates americans. gets a crush on one anyway. i think it's fun.#lovelyirony writes #bucky barnes #tony stark #natasha romanoff #sharon carter #steve rogers #buckytony

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oscar-lettjohanssonloveme · 4 years ago

Text

Glide (Miss Venable x reader)

a/n: hello :3 here we have another song fanfiction whoohoo- uhm Glide (by Lxandra) don't expect too much haha.. its angsty i guess lol :7 oh and its really long-

summary: I am really bad at this holy shit.. I guess its about the “"relationship” between you and Miss Venable (relationship is a weird word-)

warnings: alcohol, talking about depression and suicide (but nobody's actually depressed), notes of sex

google translate :’D

"So, Miss Y / L / N", Mister Langdon finally said as he stepped around the table to stand in front of you.

"After telling me about your homosexuality, I would like to know if you are currently in love?"

You narrowed your eyes at the man in front of you.

"What kind of stupid question is that? Is this the part where we braid each other's hair and talk about our high school crushes?"

"Answer. My. Question.", the Man growled.

"Okay okay," you muttered quickly. "Uhm, well let me think about it for a minute."

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

It all started when Miss Venable heard you scream one night.

You had been at Outpost 3 for a few months at this point and in all that time you hadn't spoken a lot and spent the entire time in your room except for meals.

The others didn't know much about you. They knew, you were one of the youngest residents of the Outpost and that you had left your family behind. And of course they knew your name. But that was all.

You spent a lot of time thinking about your family. Your relationship with your parents wasn't ideal, but you still missed them. And if you had known a year ago where you were today, you would have done a few things differently. Celebrating Christmas with them one last time, vacationing with them, simply spending the time peacefully with them instead of arguing.

Usually you cried quietly to yourself, with your head buried under your pillow, hoping, that everyone would forget you existed, but crying wasn't enough tonight and after dinner you snuck into the kitchen to steal a bottle of the red wine, that you smuggled into your room afterwards.

It was now 1 a.m., the bottle was almost empty, and hours ago you had started tossing the items you had in your room. Your clothes were scattered on the floor, while you had tossed the boring books from the library against the wall. Your bed was a complete disaster and in all your anger you had torn the sheets. There were red wine stains on your pillows, which had almost slipped into the blazing fire of the fireplace after you tossed them off the bed.

And now all you could do was scream.

"Fuck you!" You shouted as you staggered in the room with the alcohol in one hand.

"Fuck you all! Fuck this apocalypse, fuck this outpost, fuck-"

"Miss Y / L / N" interrupted you a loud voice behind you and made you turn around.

Miss Venable was standing in the doorway in front of the locked door, staring at you in confusion.

"Ever heard of knocking?" You grumbled and hid the bottle behind your back.

"I knocked," Miss Venable hissed, her gaze wandering angrily over your chaos.

"And if you hadn't screamed so loud, you would probably have heard it. What the fuck do you think of making such a noise here at night? Stealing alcohol as well?"

"I uh- caught," you muttered as you put the bottle on the round table in front of you.

"Do you know what's really funny? We don't have anything to eat, but there is no end of alcohol. Whoever came up with that must be pretty stupid."

"It was my idea. I am in charge here, in case you forgot."

"Oh right," you sighed and slapped your forehead with the palm of your hand.

"Shit, well, i'm sorry, but what was your name again?"

"You forgot my name?" Asked Miss Venable sharply with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah," you muttered before collapsing onto your messy bed.

"But I know it was something weird."

Miss Venable glared at you, which of course you couldn't see because you were buried with your face in your blanket.

"Hopefully you realize this will be punished," she growled.

"Oh suck my dick", you grumbled. "You enjoy punishing others, don't you? You are a little psychopath"

You laughed softly into your blanket and noticed how you became more and more sleepy. You almost fell asleep if Miss Venable hadn't tapped her stick loudly on the floor.

"You will start cleaning up here immediately, otherwise it will be the last night you spend in this outpost."

"Oh shut up. You are totally mean to me," you moaned and pouted at the angry woman.

"Why are everyone always so mean to me? I haven't done anything wrong."

You got up on shaky legs to walk past her to the door, but you tripped and fell against Miss Venable.

"Wow," you mumbled as you stared into her brown eyes with your glassy ones and grabbed hold of her hips.

"I may not know your name, but I know, that you are really pretty"

"What the fuck is wrong withyou ?! "

Wilhemina pushed you away from her so that you stumbled backwards and landed on the floor.

You stared out at her with hurt eyes as tears welled up in your eyes.

"I didn't do anything," you yelled at Miss Venable, who was still leaning on her stick in front of you.

"It's not my fault, that you're beautiful. Be happy, others are ugly."

"That's enough," growled Miss Venable as she took a step towards you and grabbed your arm to pull you up.

"You're going to bed now."

"I'll do nothing," you mumbled and tried to pull yourself out of her grip, but you were way too drunk to use enough strength and she could push you like a doll on the bed.

You laughed again.

"Guess what, my bed is big enough for both of us, isn't that funny?"

You looked up at her playfully, or at least you tried.

"You beautiful woman. We-"

"Your behavior is disgusting," she interrupted as she leaned over to grab your chin. Immediately you fell silent.

"And my name is Miss Venable."

She looked down at you dangerously and you saw fire in her eyes when you started laughing out loud.

"Haha Miss Venable, I told you it was something weird," you shouted before you started screaming out loud.

"Miss Venable is beautiful whohoo. Can you all hear me? Miss Venable is beautiful. She-"

"What the hell", Miss Venable cut you off again and took her hand from your jaw to put it on your mouth.

"Are you going to be quiet at last?"

"M'sorry," you hummed against her hand and Miss Venable could see from the wrinkles around your eyes, that you were grinning under her hand.

"I want you to go to sleep now and clean up the chaos here tomorrow, do you understand me?" She asked in a sharp voice. But you just glared at her and wanted to bite her hand when she repeated her question.

"Do you understand me?" She barked louder and this time you nodded quickly.

"Good," she said happily as she took her hand from your mouth and straightened up again.

"Fuck you," you mumbled quietly and watched unhappily as the woman went to the sofa across from the fireplace and sat on it.

"Can't you just go?" You moaned as she leaned her cane against the edge of the sofa.

"Oh I'll go," she replied while staring into the fire.

"When you fell asleep."

You groan in annoyance.

"Is that supposed to be a joke?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"Oh come on," you sighed and pulled your blanket over your head so she couldn't see you.

It was actually your plan to wait for her to go away, but at some point (who knows how much time had passed) you actually fell asleep.

Living my life in a bubble

Sometimes reality's too much for me

(I trip and fall into a dream)

Your love it gets me into trouble

Sometimes your gravity's too much for me

(It gets me weak in the knees)

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

A week had passed and not much had happened. The next morning you woke up alone and with a big hangover and barely remembering what had happened the previous evening. Miss Venable had forced you to clean up the mess in your room after she had punished you for stealing the alcohol and as attractive as this woman was, she seemed genuinely angry about what had happened, even though it was actually nothing special. At least that's what you thought, but you couldn't remember either.

The world had ended and her problem was, that you had stolen a bottle of wine and ravaged your room. You wondered how fucked up her life must have been before the apocalypse, if that bothered her. And she wasn't the only one you wondered about.

The other residents of the outpost were all disgusting.

"Why do we have to eat this shit?"

"When are we getting out of here?"

"Why is life so unfair and let me be here with you idiots?"

You hate those ungrateful assholes. Everyone was dead and their only problem was, that they were still alive.

Other people deserved it so much more and the fact that mankind's only hope was in these conceited, stupid assholes seemed like a joke.

When you lay in bed that day and stared lost at the ceiling, you had lost all reference to reality. You didn't know what day it was or what month you were in. You also didn't know whether the last meal you ate was lunch or dinner, although a glance at the clock would have been enough. But you got tired of staring at the clock and watching the second hand, hoping something would happen.

Nothing changed anyway. And all you felt was that big feeling of loneliness that completely filled you. You were a very emotional person and all you wanted was someone who was normal. But everybody in this outpost was a huge disappointment. Conceited assholes, intimidated Grays and Miss Venable, who enjoyed punishing people.

Probably you would have started talking to yourself, but thank god you weren't there yet.

Sometimes you thought, it might be easier, if you opened up to others. But your body had become like a prison and you kept every thought trapped deep inside you because it did not match those of the others. Stupid assholes.

And while you continued to sink into your self-pity, you would probably have fallen asleep, if you hadn't been bothered by the sudden knock on your door.

"Fuck off," you moaned while staring angrily at the door, but the person standing in front of it only knocked one more time.

Asshole, you thought before reluctantly climbing out of bed to open your door.

"I said you should f- Oh Miss Venable," you stared at the woman in front of you.

"Are you here to punish me again for something pointless? If so, I can assure you it won't be necessary .. The wounds from last time still hurt, if you care."

Miss Venable screwed up her eyes.

"Well, Miss Y / L / N, actually I don't care, but if it still hurts, you seem to have learned your lesson," she replied coldly and you just snorted in annoyance.

"What do you want from me?"

"You are obviously depressed-" she started and you interrupted her immediately.

"What is that shit supposed to mean? I'm not depressed, I'm just sad. And since when have you been interested in how I'm doing?"

You glared at her with narrowed eyes, but her face still had the same deadly serious expression.

"You've been sad for a long time, don't you think?"

"I- uh".

You looked at her confused.

"All my friends are dead, it's only logical that I feel that way .. I find it rather questionable, that I'm the only one here, who feels that way."

"So?" Miss Venable raised an eyebrow, which made you even more insecure.

"I don't really care how you feel either. I just don't feel like wiping your blood off should you decide to kill yourself."

"Suicide isn't always bloody," you muttered.

"And because we don't have any doctors here-"

"By the way, that's the stupidest thing of all. You know, we have a hairstylist, but no doctors, you also notice that it doesn't make any sense, right?" You interrupted her and crossed your arms in front of your chest.

And again Miss Venable ignored your words and finished her sentence, which you had interrupted.

"..I thought that would help too."

Your eyes widened when you saw what she was pulling out from behind her back and immediately you started laughing.

"Are you serious? First you punish me brutally for stealing a bottle of red wine and now you come to give me one?" You laughed and stared down at the bottle she was holding out to you.

"What's worse is, that you think alcohol is replacing therapeutic treatment. That's pretty sad to be honest, Miss Venable."

Wilhemina narrowed her eyes.

"It's not sad, I just prefer red wine stains instead of stains from your blood," she growled.

"You can't possibly be serious," you mumbled and suddenly had to grin.

"You enjoyed punishing me, right? And now you're coming, because you need a reason to do it again."

"Oh come on," Miss Venable rolled her eyes.

"Take the bottle or don't take it, it's just an offer."

You were still staring at her in amazement. What was wrong with her that she thought this action would solve your problems? Another proof of how fucked up everything was and that the only person you could count on was yourself.

"Uhm, well thank you, Miss Venable," you stuttered and reached for the bottle.

"If you come over every evening and bring me a bottle, your diagnosis may work and I will have very different problems, than my sadness."

"Not funny," muttered Miss Venable, her lips pressed together.

"Well, good evening, Miss Y / N."

She turned around and started to leave and you could only stare after her in confusion. Evening?

Then you actually had dinner earlier, even though you could have sworn it was only lunch.

"Maybe you want to join me-?" You asked suddenly and were just as surprised by this question as Miss Venable, who turned to you.

"What?"

"I don't think getting drunk on my own would be fun," you added, stepping nervously from one foot to the other.

"You did it a week ago," replied Miss Venable and in the torchlight you could see the lines of confusion on her face.

"But I never said it was fun," you smiled crookedly as your grip tightened on the neck of the bottle.

"And I think it would be nicer to do that, in the presence of another person. Especially since you've already seen me drunk."

You looked at Miss Venable expectantly, although you did not know exactly what you were doing. It was probably just your desperate attempt to get someone's attention, simply because everyone, who has ever cared about you was dead. And you knew Miss Venable might not be the best choice. But while the others complained aloud about their suffering and argued about who was worse off, Miss Venable didn't show such feelings and kept her thoughts to herself. A circumstance with which you could somehow identify.

"Okay," Miss Venable finally muttered, surprising you one more time that day.

"Well, great," you said before stepping out the door frame to go back to your room. You sat on the other end of the sofa, across from where she sat a week ago. In your hand there was still the bottle of red wine and for whatever reason you were ashamed of this situation. Miss Venable brought you alcohol because she thought, you could use it to manage your sadness, or depression (as she called it). And if she had actually meant well, which was actually questionable with her, then you had to make a pretty pathetic impression on others.

"You cleaned up the mess," you heard Miss Venable's voice behind you, but it was more of a determination than an acknowledgment.

"And I just noticed that we have no glasses at all".

Your shoulders sagged at her words and for a moment you were afraid she would leave. But you heard her close the door behind her before she went to the sofa and sat down on the exact same place, that she had been sitting on a week ago.

You watched the woman confused, leaning her cane against the sofa.

Her gaze lifted to you and she stared at you as expectantly as you looked at her confused.

"What are you waiting for? Go into the kitchen and get glasses," Miss Venable uttered.

You blinked in surprise.

"I- I didn't know that was a request," you muttered before jumping up from the sofa to run from your room into the kitchen.

When you ran back to your room 5 minutes later with two wine glasses, Miss Venable was still sitting on the ugly fabric sofa just as she had done a few minutes earlier. And somehow there was something aesthetic about it.

Personally, you thought it was ridiculous, that everyone had to adapt to the Victorian style, just because she wanted to. But it was perfect for Miss Venable. As if it was made for it. Her red hair, which she always pinned up so strictly, then her almost black eyes and the lipstick. Also her pale skin and her cane. Even her strict personality perfectly matched the style of clothing.

"Do you want to stay in the door frame and stare at me, or are you finally coming now," Wilhemina hissed suddenly without moving even an inch and immediately a slight blush rose in your face.

"M'sorry," you muttered and quickly closed the door before going back to the sofa. After you sat down, you put the glasses in front of you on the table, where the wine bottle was now.

"I was just wondering," you explained as you poured the wine into your glasses.

"Why the Victorian style of all things?"

"Why not? It looks good," replied Miss Venable, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Well," you began before turning to give her her glass.

"The world is ending and you make us wear 10kg dresses, because you think it looks good?"

"Any better idea?" Miss Venable asked back, putting the glass to her lips.

"Uhm I, i don't know," you stuttered and watched Miss Venable as she drank her wine.

"Don't we have to be prepared somehow or something like that?"

You heard Miss Venable laugh quietly into her glass.

"Prepared?" She repeated with a small grin and put her glass back on the table.

"On what? For the aliens to come and get us out of here?"

You shrugged your shoulders.

"I don't know," you mumbled before you put your glass to your lips to take a sip of the bitter liquid and while you were drinking you could feel her gaze digging into your skin.

"By the way, I also find it very questionable what kind of people live in this outpost," you added, setting your Glas next to hers on the table.

Wilhemina let out a laugh. It was one of those laughs that you couldn't tell whether it was meant honestly or sarcastically.

"I'm not surprised you say that," she muttered.

"Is my dislike of the others that obvious?" you asked confused.

"I don't know if obviously this is the right word .. But what I do know, is that you always look disgusted when you see them, so I'm assuming you don't like them and to be honest, I like them neither.

Your confusion turned to laughter.

"Well," you said.

"With you it is obvious that you don't like any of them."

"These people are just as competent as they were poor. They are only here because of their money," she said disapprovingly.

You sighed thoughtfully.

"It's kind of sad, that money was the way in here. Scientists would have been so much more valuable. I'm only here because my grandfather had the money."

"What did you do before the apocalypse?" She asked you and you were surprised by this honest question.

"I went to college to study history," you replied when your gaze wandered into the fire.

"So I can judge that the Victorian style wasn't the most practical choice."

You heard Miss Venable snort in annoyance and you couldn't help but grin.

"And what did you do before the apocalypse?" You asked, turning your gaze back to her. Miss Venable seemed as surprised by your question as you were by hers.

"It's a little tricky," she began. "Basically, I built human robots."

"Robots?"

"Robots."

For a moment you stared at her in amazement. Miss Venable had averted her gaze from you and directed it to the wine glass in front of her.

"M'sorry, but if you've built human robots, why are you letting real people, the Grays, work for us? Wouldn't robots have been revolutionary in an apocalypse?"

Unlike you, Miss Venable seemed totally unaffected by this.

You watched as the redhead reached for her wine glass and took another sip of the blood red liquid.

"You are asking too many questions for my taste, Miss Y / L / N," said Miss Venable softly, putting her glass back on the table. And even though she kept her voice low, you could hear her indirect threat.

"To be honest, I'm amazed, that I'm the only one asking questions," you replied, trying to make eye contact with the woman next to you again, but Miss Venable's gaze was tied to the blazing fire in the fireplace and you could see a dark glint in their eyes.

"You shouldn't get involved in things that are none of your business," she said suddenly in a monotonous voice. "All over the world there are survivors and it is not your job to question my system, nobody has the right to do so. You are just one stupid survivor of many, nothing more"

You and I, we just glide

Through the night

We just drive, we get by

We just glide

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

"Oh c'mon," you moaned and ran your tousled hair.

"God must hate me".

You stood on shaky legs from the library floor, that you fell on after stumbling into the room. You brushed the dirt off your skirt and realized with gritted teeth, that it was ruined.

"Seems like someone is having a bad day," you suddenly heard a voice say and immediately your mood worsened.

You straighten up again to meet Miss Venable's eyes. The woman sat on the right of the two leather sofas and with one hand clutched her cane, which was propped on the floor.

"Fuck you", you hissed before you let yourself fall on the sofa across from her.

"Oh, someone is having a very bad day," added Miss Venable, and you didn't have to look at her to see, that she was amused by your behavior,

"Yes, my day sucks and guess what, it's all your fault," you growled and glared angrily at her stick.

"When I got up this morning and wanted to leave my room, I got stuck in the door with my blouse and the whole sleeve was torn. Did you also notice, how much you sweat in these clothes? It's really hard to go at the toilet with these clothes .. I'm sorry, but what the hell was your idea, when you decided to give us a Victorian dress code? Did you have to make our life after the apocalypse even harder ? "

You pressed angrily your lips together and screwed up your eyes.

"You are the only person who complains about it," said Miss Venable and sounded not quite as amused as a minute before. You let out a dry laugh.

"The others are too scared of you, to tell you that," you said bitterly.

"Besides, what the hell are you doing here?"

You tore your gaze away from her stick to look directly into her dark eyes.

"Why shouldn't I be here?"

"Because you're never here and you didn't look like someone who'd like to hang out with Mr. Gallant or Coco."

"Well, neither Mr. Gallant nor Miss St. Pierre Vanderbilt are here right now, right? And besides, I could ask you the same thing", Miss Venable replied indifferently and somehow she was right. It was also a rarity to see you in the library as you actually spent most of the time in your room.

"I suppose my great sadness is over now .. or as you called it 'depression'. I'm more in the mood right now, that I don't care and I am angry at everything and now you are my victim. Your lipstick is smeared by the way", you sighed, although that was actually a lie, her lipstick was perfect as always. But in fact her eyes widened slightly and you couldn't help but enjoy this view.

"You're lying," hissed Miss Venable and you had to grin.

"Maybe".

You shrugged your shoulders.

"Maybe you'd better go and see, or you risk the others seeing you ruined makeup."

It was obvious that Miss Venable was a perfectionist woman and she wasn't going to let her position of power be challenged over a smeared lipstick. On the other hand, you were an extremely bad liar and Miss Venable wasn't stupid.

"You're lying," she repeated, only with her lips pressed together, giving you the sense of achievement you wanted.

"Mhh Miss Venable," you hummed as your eyes found her stick again.

"This cane .. when I saw you for the first time, I wondered if it was just a symbol of power or if you really needed it-"

"..And then you saw me walk with it," added Miss Venable with a bitter tone in her voice.

"Oh no," you quickly shook your head.

"It wasn't your walk that gave me the confirmation that you really need the stick. It could never be your walk, you walk so majestically with that stupid thing, that even people, who don't really need a cane and only use it as an accessory would look handicapped next to you."

It was probably a rather desperate attempt to put the whole thing in a compliment and Miss Venable did not answer your words either, but you could see in the glow of the fire how her pale skin turned a light red shade and that was enough for you.

"It was your grip to be honest," you continued.

Miss Venable frowned.

"My grip?"

"Yes," you nodded and started playing with the fabric of your skirt.

"Your fingers are always clenched so tightly around the handle, as if you wanted it to break through. As if you were trying to strangle it or something like that, i dont know."

The furrow on Wilhemina's forehead only got a little wider with your words.

"You seem to spend a lot of time watching what my hands are doing," she mumbled and this time it was you, who blushed.

"It was just an observation, that I made on the side," you stammered quickly when you realized, that from one moment to the next the conversation had taken a completely wrong direction. Miss Venable did not answer again and you did not have the courage to look her face again and so the next few seconds were filled with an embarrassing silence, although you could imagine that Miss Venable was enjoying your discomfort.

"May I take a look at your cane-?" You finally asked to break the silence.

"You want to take a look at my cane?" Repeated Miss Venable, surprised with raised eyebrows.

"Only if it's okay," you said quickly.

"You are the first person, who asks me that".

Miss Venable looked thoughtfully down at her cane, which was still in her hand.

"As I said, the others are too scared of you-"

"The others don't care," Miss Venable interrupted, and you didn't know if she was sad about it or if she didn't care. But we're talking about Wilhemina Venable, she probably didn't care.

The red-haired woman sighed before holding out her stick to you.

You grinned and tried to grab the staff, but before your fingers could touch the wood, Miss Venable pulled it back again.

"How can I be sure, that you won't break it up and use it to make firewood?", She asked you and you looked at her in horror.

"I would probably be the last person to do that," you said indignantly.

"On the contrary, I think you would be the only person in this outpost who would dare to."

Miss Venable held out her stick to you again and this time she let you reach for it.

You immediately noticed how light the wood was in your hand as you carefully ran your fingers over the stick.

"What kind of wood is that?" You asked quietly without looking up from her walker.

"I guess it was blackthorn".

Your fingers moved on to the handle of the stick, which was probably the most interesting thing. A metal handle in the shape of a raven skull served as a support for the hand.

"Doesn't that hurt?".

You lifted your gaze back to Miss Venable, who obviously didn't understand what to do with your question.

"Well, if I had to support myself with all my weight on this skull, it would hurt," you added and Wilhemina just shrugged her shoulders.

"Uhm, it's a beautiful cane," you muttered, handing it back to her.

"May I ask why you need it?"

"I don't know what this should have gotten to do with you," replied Miss Venable, not sounding as nice as before. If you could call it "nice".

"Okay okay, taboo subject, I got it," you said quickly, desperately searching your head for anything to keep the conversation going.

"Do you actually enjoy it? To have control over everyone here? And know that, that almost everyone is afraid of you?", You finally asked and leaned back against the sofa.

"You asked me that a few weeks ago, when you were drunk," remarked Miss Venable, looking down at her gloved fingers, which were wrapped around her cane again.

"Really?" You asked confused.

"More or less. It was more of an accusation."

"An accusation?"

Miss Venable hummed in agreement.

"I told you, that you would be punished for your behavior and you said I would enjoy it."

"I understand," you mumbled, still staring hard at her face.

"What else happened that evening?"

A smug smile danced on Wilhemina's lips and she took a moment to consider your question.

"Well, you made fun of my name," she finally began as she drummed her fingers on the skull-like handle of her stick.

"And then you said, that I was pretty and that I should be happy about it, because other people are ugly."

Your eyes froze as her words entered your brain.

Wrong turn. Wrong turn.

"Uhm .. You know, when I'm drunk I tend to perceive things a lot more intensely than they actually are and then I exaggerate occasionally," you tried desperately to get yourself out of this situation, but Miss Venable just let out a loud laugh and you realized, that you had failed miserably. You cleared your throat briefly and sat up straight again.

"You haven't answered my question yet," you said, trying to change the subject again.

"I wanted to know, if you enjoy all of this."

"Do I enjoy it if you don't obey my rules? No, I don't enjoy that, why should I?" Miss Venable said and again had that indifferent sound in her voice. Of course you knew that she had bypassed your question and that was enough to prove, that she enjoyed her monarchy in Outpost 3.

"You said earlier, that you had got over your grief. That's good to hear," said Miss Venable, and this time she was the one who changed the subject.

"I thought you didn't care what I felt".

You smiled contentedly and cocked your head. Somehow you liked this game of mutual debunking.

"I don't care either, I just wanted to be polite."

Your smile widened when you saw her fingers clench a little tighter around her stick.

"Miss Venable and polite, I don't think this is a well-working combination," you teased her and in the glow of the fire you could see her roll her eyes.

"You were a lot less tiring, when you were crying in your room all day," she muttered disapprovingly.

Why should it be such a struggle

When it means so much to you and me?

(I trip and fall into a dream)

Built like a ship in a bottle

Gotta handle you so delicately

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

I don't know what we got

But I know what I want

The silence is killing me softly

What. The. Fuck.

When you arrived at the Outpost a few months ago, you couldn't even have imagined in your deepest dreams, that you would ever end up in this situation.

You lay on your back, still staring at the ceiling with wide eyes as you tried to stabilize your breathing. Only now did you notice, that you had your arms wrapped around your chest and that your fingernails were digging painfully into the flesh of your shoulder. Your body lay rigid in her bed and you couldn't move an inch. You desperately tried to put the things that had happened in the right order.

Was it a stupid idea to go in Miss Venable's Bedroom? Yes, definitely. In retrospect, you didn't even know what exactly you wanted there. And actually you should have disappeared, after you saw that Wilhemina hadn't even been there. But no, of course your curious ass had to inspect her entire room.

And by the time Miss Venable came out of her bathroom in her pajamas, you had already started counting in your head how many punches Miss Mead was going to give you as punishment. You had definitely crossed the line.

But it turned out very differently than expected. Miss Venable had been angry anyway, very angry, but her anger was not expressed in words. The woman had pressed you against the wall and before you could do anything about it, her hand had slipped under your skirt, between your legs and Miss Venable had broken her own rule.

Of course you could have pushed her away, but it felt so right. You wanted so badly for someone to pay you attention and Miss Venable had kind of given you just that, when she pressed you against the wall and fucked you senselessly.

The whole thing was just so emotionless. You hadn't been able to look at her. You were ashamed of every sound you made, and if Miss Venable hadn't put her hand over your mouth, everyone in the Outpost would probably have heard you scream.

Which wouldn't have been so practical, because this man had come here a few days ago and you knew he was interviewing all the residents for the sanctuary and it wouldn't have been very beneficial for you if he'd caught you, breaking you down Venables rules. Regardless of the fact, that she had broken her rule herself.

Miss Venable hadn't said a single word about what had happened a few minutes ago, as if she had absolutely no need to justify herself.

She hadn't even looked at you when she took her hands off you and wiped them with a kleenex.

"You can sleep here tonight," she had muttered.

"It would be noticeable if you left my room now."

And now you lay next to her in bed and tried to understand all of this. Your dress was messy on the floor and all you had on was your underwear. After your fingers relaxed, you had pulled the blanket, that she wordlessly gave you over you and clung desperately to the fabric.

You had calmed down and could now hear her breathing next to you. The fact, that she was just lying next to you and probably sleeping was disturbing. At least, she could have apologized, right? Although, that didn't make sense either, because you obviously enjoyed what had happened.

You carefully turned your head towards her and saw, that her back was turned to you. And you wondered if she was really sleeping or just pretending. Miss Venable had become your most private contact in the outpost and you didn't really know what that actually meant.

You wanted so badly to touch her, but you didn't know if you had the right to do so. Only now did you notice the scars on her back, that shone through the light nightgown. Add to that the snake-like curve of her spine and suddenly you understood why she needed her stick.

"You have scoliosis," you said your thoughts out loud and you heard her hold her breath.

"Congratulations," she hummed miserably.

"You figured it die out."

You nervously began to chew your lower lip.

"Did I make anything wrong?" You asked quietly.

"Ask yourself how you got into this situation, then you will know."

"I- do you want me to go?", Your voice sounded sadder than you actually wanted.

When Miss Venable didn't answer, you felt tears welling up in your eyes as the feeling of fear grew inside you. You screwed it up. Probably the next evening you would end up like Stu as stew.

"No," Miss Venable suddenly whispered before turning to you. The red-haired woman had a blank expression on her face while she watched you cry.

She raised her hand as if to wipe the tears from your face, but she lowered it again and you had to do it yourself.

"M'sorry," you muttered.

"You're stupid if you apologize," Miss Venable replied bluntly.

"That was more than just unprofessional of me, I should have let you go and tomorrow you would have been punished."

You looked at her sadly.

"That's the only solution, isn't it? Punishment."

"I don't know exactly what you're getting at? It's actually quite simple. Those are my rules and whoever doesn't stick to them will be punished for it", Miss Venable looked at you unimpressed and you returned her gaze thoughtfully.

"What about Michael Langdon? Does he have to obey your rules too?" You finally asked.

"What does this mean?"

"Uhm well, I guess I've known you for 18 months now and the first time you seem scared."

Miss Venable raised her eyebrows.

"You don't know anything about me. I'm not even remotely an emotional chaos as you are."

Emotional chaos. Okay she had a point. You blinked a few times to force the tears, that were still glistening in your eyes back down.

"I don't know if emotional chaos is the right word," you muttered.

"You should think less about your stupid feelings," Miss Venable sighed, turning away from you again.

"They've only got you in trouble so far if you ask me."

You pressed your lips together and had to suppress an angry comment, that would only confirm her accusation. Your eyes stared at her back again. The red curls of her long hair had slipped behind her shoulders and were now curling on her back. You would have loved to stretch out your hand to touch it. You would have loved to curl up in her arms to feel safe for the first time in over a year. You wanted to kiss her. Or at least hold her hand. Anything. Just a little bit of their affection would have been enough and you would have been happy. It probably all sounds kind of selfish, because she fucked you a few minutes ago. The whole thing just wasn't particularly loving. You felt like a disgusting animal and now you wanted her to show you, you weren't. Miss Venable was only a few inches away from you and all you had to do was hold out your hand and you would feel her warmth. But while it was actually only a few centimeters, you realized, that there were worlds between you and this woman and that she was probably never further away from you than at this moment.

You and I, we just glide

Through the night

We just drive, we get by

We just glide

Maybe we're just fooling in foolish imagination

Got no destination in sight

You and I, we get by

We just glide

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

Wilhemina Venable had a great talent at pretending everything was fine.

As if nothing happened. Nothing had changed in the days after that night.

Since Michael Langdon was at the Outpost, she avoided private contact with you and the fact, that you had shared a bed didn't change that. In addition, she was just as disgusting to you in front of the others as always and that was nothing new either. And while Wilhemina no longer seemed to care about what had happened between you two, at the same time it almost killed you.

You actually expected, that she would want to talk to you about it again, but nothing had happened and that made you angry. Miss Venable would always deny it, but she was the only one who cared about you. And you appreciated her weird way of paying attention to you so much.

The only problem was, you couldn't even begin to imagine, what was going on in her head. While you were acting like a lovesick teenager, the only thing you saw of her was her deadly serious face.

Oh and Miss Venable was right, you were a fucking emotional mess. Since you woke up the next morning in her empty bed, you have cried a lot again and spent a lot of time in your room, but this time Miss Venable would probably not come to offer you alcohol as medication.

It was the afternoon of any day and you were sitting on the floor, leaning against your bed. In one hand you held a pair of scissors, while in the other you held the skirt of your dress. You were still not used to wearing long skirts after so many months and you still kept poking around at yourself, when walking through the outpost, so you decided to cut your skirts short. Of course you knew, that Wilhemina would probably kill you, if she saw you, breaking her sacred dress code, but fuck Wilhemina. At least you could finally walk properly again.

The triple knock on your door made you look up from your work and you got up to go to the door. You probably should have known it was Miss Venable who knocked. Who else has been interested in you, in the past few months?

"We need to talk," said the red-haired woman firmly, without looking at you.

You just nodded and stepped out of the door frame to make room for her.

For a brief moment you were afraid, that Miss Venable would get angry about the dress, that was lying shortened on the floor next to the scissors, but she just ignored it and stood across from you.

"Well, Miss Y / L / N, I'm just here to ugh- "

Miss Venable was interrupted by you when you, you stupid idiot, reached for her face to angrily press your lips against hers. The kiss only lasted a second in total, because Miss Venable immediately pushed you away from her and the next thing you felt was her hand lashing angrily against your right cheek. A horrified gasp escaped your lips and you looked at Wilhemina in horror as you rubbed your cheek.

"If you do that again, I'll kill you," the redhead growled, glaring at you angrily.

You looked at her hurt and felt tears start to sting in your eyes.

"M'sorry," you muttered.

"Oh of course you are," hissed Miss Venable.

"What the hell were you thinking of?"

"I just- I don't know," you stuttered desperately.

"I think I love you".

Miss Venable's eyes narrowed and she looked like she was going to punch you again.

"This is not love, this is despair, you stupid thing."

"Despair?" You breathed in horror.

"How else would you describe your behavior?" She spat and angrily started knocking her stick on the floor.

"I mean, look at you. You are a total mess. Either you cry in your room all day or you are angry at everything and everyone. You are the only person, who ruins her clothes. You are the one which most often breaks my rules, just because you are too unable to deal with your feelings. You know, everyone can handle what happened, except you, because you are so damn selfish. But you have to wake up.. Do you think, that was what I wanted, when you cried into my bed a few days ago? Oh no. And I know that, was my fault too. You know, everything what I want, is that you obey my rules, but that seems to be too much for your incompetent ass ", Wilhemina scolded and angrily knocked her stick on the floor.

"And now you come and say you love me."

She shook her head.

"As I said, this is not love, this is despair. And I don't know what kind of answer you were hoping for, from me, but let me be clear: In my opinion, of all the residents of the Outpost, you are the most pathetic and I hate you, I really do and you're sick if you even thought it would be different. "

You stared at her in shock. The feeling, that rose in you at that moment was indescribable. A mixture of disgust, shame and anger. But also the feeling of betrayal. And you couldn't say who these feelings were for, for you or for Wilhemina.

"Y-you hate me?" You stuttered, wiping the back of your hand over your cheek to remove your tears.

"I hate everyone in this outpost, that includes you too," hissed Miss Venable.

You shook your head in disbelief.

"I don't believe you," you whispered.

"I still believe, that you are scared and that is why you act like that."

"Mister Langdon will interview you tomorrow," said Miss Venable without responding to your comment.

"If you tell him anything about what happened a few days ago, I promise you will wish you were never born. With your condition, you probably won't be in the sanctuary anyway, but I will don't let me spoil this opportunity from you. Do you understand me? "

You shook your head.

"I don't understand what your problem is suddenly ... I asked you that evening if I should go and you said no."

"The whole thing was a mistake, nothing more", Miss Venable growled quietly and stepped past you to go to your door.

"I hate you and you hate me, that's all that's between us, you understand?"

You wanted to say something, but you decided not to, it didn't make any sense anyway.

"I understand," you said softly.

"Good," replied Miss Venable before turning and walking out of your room.

You stared after her sadly. Of course you didn't understand why she was suddenly so mad at you, but how could you? Miss Venable had wanted to end whatever was between you, so that she would not feel guilty if you were to be murdered by her in a few days. She had never meant to offend you, but she had to make it clear to herself, that she didn't love you. She just couldn't love you.

Show me freedom

'Cause love don't cost a thing

Give me freedom

Yeah don't just let me leave

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

"Miss Y / L / N", Mister Langdon barked and slapped the table with the palm of his hand. You winced and looked disturbed into the blond man's eyes.

"I asked you something".

He leaned down to you and his face was only a few inches from yours.

"Are you in love?"

You swallowed and blinked a few times, before you whispered softly:

"I am not."

The man leaned back and looked at you thoughtfully for a few seconds.

"Well, Miss Y / L / N," he finally sighed.

"You can go."

Without looking at the man again, you got up to run out of the room. You tripped and if you hadn't held onto the wall next to the door, you would have fallen. For a moment you leaned against the wall with your eyes closed and took a deep breath.

This man was disgusting and a little too intimate for your taste, no wonder, that no one liked him.

You opened your eyes again and realized, that Miss Venable was staring down at you as she leaned against the railing.

Your eyes were lost in hers, her almost black eyes in which the light of the torches is always reflected. You wanted to say something, but you were afraid, that she would leave and you didn't want that. Miss Venable had put on her indifferent expression as always and, as always, you did not know what was going on inside the woman.

Your lips formed a mute "fuck you" when you saw her turn away from you to move. And the faint tapping of her cane proved to you, that she was indeed leaving and you knew that she would not come back.

Maybe we're just fooling in foolish imagination

Got no destination in sight

You and I, we get by

We just glide

#wilhemina venable x reader #wilhemina venable imagine #wilhemina venable #sarah paulson x reader #sarah paulson imagine #american horror story

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hopelesshawks · 4 years ago

Text

Love and Admiration Part 33- Goodnight Katsuki

18+ Bakugo x fem!pro hero reader

Summary: (Y/n) has known Bakugo since middle school, admired him since high school, and had a crush on him since the first time they met. Even now, a top pro hero in her own right, she can’t shake her school girl crush. Too bad Bakugo literally has no idea she exists. Well that’s not entirely true… He does know pro hero Mercury exists, but (y/l/n) (y/n)? Never heard of her.

Warnings for dom/sub themes, degradation, praise kink, size kink, dirty talk, hickeys/marking, oral (male receiving), face fucking, swallowing, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, minor dacryphilia (crying kink), light overstimulation, light edging

Masterlist Help Lulu <3

You and Katsuki both seem frozen in place when your eyes meet. He’s sat on the steps into your building, probably has been for god knows how long, and looks as stunning as ever. You can’t help but notice though the dark bags hanging under his carmine eyes and the painful thought occurs to you that you’re the one who put them there. “Best of luck,” Hawks tells you before giving Bakugo a jaunty salute and taking off into the air. That seems to snap Katsuki out of whatever trance seeing you again had put him in because he abruptly stands, hands shoved deep into his pockets, and starts to storm off. Panic seizes your rapidly beating heart as you rush forward, catching hold of his arm to stop him from going any further. “Bakugo wait,” you say, slightly breathless from racing to catch up to him. “Didn’t mean to disturb your date,” he bites out, still not looking at you. “You didn’t disturb anything, but can we talk?” you ask and you swear he flinches away. “No,” is his simple response but you keep a firm grip on his forearm to stop him from getting away from you again. “Please,” you insist but he shakes his head. Every move you make to come face to face with him he thwarts, but even still you can tell he’s gritting his teeth as he icily responds “I’m sure your boyfriend wouldn’t appreciate you clinging to me like this.” “He’s not my boyfriend.” “Stop lying.” “I’m not lying!” “You are!” “Why do you care so much if I’m dating Hawks?” you finally demand. For the first time you get him to whirl around to face you. His beautiful, ruby red eyes are glistening with unshed, frustrated tears as he shouts “Because I’m fucking in love with you you idiot!”

It’s like time stands still, Bakugo’s confession hanging in the air between you both. Words you never thought you’d hear. Words you’d given up on ever being directed your way. All the air is stolen from you lungs because holy shit Bakugo Katsuki is in love with you. He is in love with you and because of you he genuinely doesn’t think that love is returned. He scoffs, breaking you from your trance as he turns to leave, and panic drives you forward. You can’t let him leave thinking his love is unrequited and you can’t let him leave without undoing the damage you caused. “Wait!” you call out grabbing onto him again. He practically growls this time, eyes filled with fury when they meet yours as he prepares to shove you away, but before he can you desperately reel him in to press your lips to his. He’s frozen in place for a moment but then when he hesitantly starts to reciprocate you pour your every complicated emotion into the kiss in the desperate hopes it’ll convey to him what your words haven’t yet. Your cheeks are wet and you’re not 100% sure which of you started crying but you take it as a sign, pulling away to finally tell him what you should’ve said during that first talk “I love you and I’m so, so sorry.”

Bakugo stares at you, eyes searching your face like he’s waiting for the other shoe to fall. “You love me?” he asks and it’s so breathless and vulnerable that it makes your heart ache. “I love you,” you confirm. “You love me,” he repeats, but this time it’s not a question. You answer it anyway. “I love you.” Within moments he’s got you pressed up against the wall of your building, devouring you like a man starving as he keeps you locked into the most possessive kiss the two of you have shared yet. Your hands are restless: on his pecs one moment, his waist the next, then his hair. You’ve missed him so much and now that you have him here in front of you, you can’t help but wonder how you ever thought you’d be able to live without him. You know you’re crying now but it’s hard to care when he is too. You break the kiss, both of you panting for air with your chests heaving as you all but sob out another apology. The kiss Katsuki presses to your cheek in response is shockingly gentle before his lips move to your ear to growl “If you’re so fucking sorry, stop apologizin’ n’ invite me up to make it up to me.”

Within moments of getting inside your bedroom, Katsuki has you shoved up against the wall. His hips grind into yours, drawing a deep moan from you both. “From now on you’re mine, got that?” he asserts and you nod eagerly. “I’ve always been yours,” you promise and he hums his approval before dropping his mouth to the column of your neck to start leaving marks there. Wetness pools in your panties as his hands roam everywhere but where you really want them. He’s teasing you and he knows it, constantly getting close to what you really want but not quite. “Strip,” he demands and you’re happy to oblige, quickly casting your clothes and underwear aside although he makes no move to remove his own clothing. Goosebumps rise on your skin as your apartment’s a/c leeches the heat from your bare skin and Katsuki takes in the sight of you with a barely concealed hunger. “On your knees,” he commands next and you drop to them without hesitation. He looms over you now and you’ve never felt more vulnerable in your life. It’s intentional, you realize a split second later. It’s Katsuki’s way of showing you how helpless and vulnerable he’s felt since you started ignoring him. If he can endure days of feeling this vulnerable without the security of knowing the person making him that way loves him, then you’ll happily endure it for as long as he wants now.

“That’s a good Princess,” Katsuki practically purrs and oh how you’ve missed that nickname. In your current position there’s no hiding the effect it has on you to hear it again in the deep tenor of his voice. Your hardened nipples are fully on display and you can feel your wetness dripping onto your thighs. He hasn’t even touched you properly yet and you’re already such a mess for him. “I almost forgot how much of a slut you were. You that desperate for my cock?” he asks. “Yes,” you whine, squirming the slightest bit just at the thought. “I want you to beg for it and I want you to say my fucking name,” he growls and the words alone are enough to make you moan before you look up at him with pleading eyes. “Please, Katsuki. I want your cock so fucking bad. I need it, I love you, please give me your cock,” you beg and you mean every filthy word of it. “You gonna let me fuck that pretty little mouth of yours?” “Yes Katsuki, anything for you.” “Good,” he rumbles as he slowly unzips his jeans before roughly shoving them and his boxers down to reveal his erection. You can’t help but moan your satisfaction as you wrap your lips around his length, sucking him in eagerly as his hands grasp firm hold of your hair. His fat cock is heavy on your tongue and there’s a brief moment of trepidation as he starts to draw his hips back until only the tip remains inside your mouth. He gives you one last chance to tell him if you’re not prepared to handle this but when all you do is stare up at him with those same pleading eyes, he takes vicious pleasure in plunging his dick back inside your waiting mouth until he can feel himself hit the back of your throat. You savor every incredible moment as he fucks into the tight wet heat of your mouth eagerly. There will be future times where you give him a fight, where you challenge him in the bedroom as much as you challenge him in the field, but this is not that time. This is your apology, your atonement, and in your heart you know he’ll give as good as he gets once he’s satisfied. So even as your jaw starts to ache and tears start to glide down your cheeks you don’t ask him to let up and when he cums with a shout, his warm seed shooting into your mouth and down your throat, you eagerly swallow each drop until he’s spent.

Katsuki wastes no time helping you to your feet before stepping fully out of his pants and boxers and discarding his shirt. “C’mon Princess, let’s get you on the bed so I can take care of you,” he whispers as he gently lays you down atop your sheets. He starts at your neck, nipping and sucking until he leaves a mark. Your chest is next as he leaves a trail of hickeys on his way to your nipples, licking one of the hardened nubs before sucking it into his mouth. He delights in the way you keen and moan beneath him, your hands fisting into the sheets as you squirm in place. Then he starts working his way down, down, down until he gets to between your thighs. He gently holds your legs open, taking in the sight of your soaking wet sex. “Look how wet you are for me baby. Such a good little princess,” he purrs. “Please Katsuki. Need you,” you whimper and the satisfied smirk he gives at your desperate request only elevates your desire further. He wastes no time burying his face in your aching cunt, licking a long stripe along your labia, before slipping his tongue into your clenching vagina. It doesn’t take long for him to drive you to the brink of orgasm as he laps along your inner walls, his nose brushing against your sensitive clit. Your thighs are practically shaking as your orgasm finally washes over you. When he comes back up to kiss you again you can taste yourself on his tongue, but as you feel his twitching cock, already hard again and leaking precum you know he’s not quite done with you. “Think you can give me one more of those Princess?” “Anything for you Katsuki.”

There’s something more intimate this time around as Katsuki slowly pushes into you, his thick cock stretching you open. You clutch onto him tightly as you wince through the slight sting of him penetrating you until he’s finally bottomed out. “You’re taking me so well Princess, it’s like you were fucking made for me. No one else can make you feel this good right?” he pants breathlessly. “Right, it’s only for you. I’m yours Katsuki,” you agree. Your lips clash together sloppily as he starts moving, starting with slow, languid strokes and growing increasingly frantic as you both start inching towards your second climaxes of the night. “Fuck Katsuki I’m gonna-“ “Not yet. We’ll cum together ok?” “O-ok.” “Good girl.” You have to clench your teeth, tears leaking down your cheeks once again as you force your trembling body to hold off until you’re given permission. Every inch of you is tingling, your eyes squeezed shut in concentration as you clench around Katsuki’s thick member. His hips start to stutter as he starts nearing his climax. “Open your eyes. Wanna watch you come undone for me,” he demands so you force your eyes open. Right as your eyes meet his carmine ones you both gasp, almost taken aback by the level of emotion you both find in each other’s gazes. “Now princess, fuck now you can-“ “Yea I’m gonna-“ “Love you Princess.” “Love you too Katsuki.”

You both tumble over that ledge together, your orgasms crashing over you as you hold each other tightly. Even as the pleasure starts to fade the two of you continue to cling together, as if afraid the other will slip away or disappear if you ease up for even a moment. Exhaustion starts to creep in now that the aftershocks of your orgasms are ebbing away. “We should talk properly,” you admit quietly even as sleep threatens to pull you under. “Did you mean what you said? Outside your apartment…” he asks in response. “Absolutely,” you reply immediately. “Then that’s enough for tonight. We can talk in the morning,” Bakugo huffs, shifting you both so you’re laying on his chest. Your eyelids were already getting heavy but now, curled up against Katsuki’s bare chest with the steady beat of his heart as a lullaby, you know you’re on the verge of passing out. “Goodnight Princess,” Katsuki tells you as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Goodnight Katsuki.”

A/N: The wranglers gc are the ones who encouraged Bakugo to go confront y/n at her place and demand answers, which is how he ended up on her front steps. We’re moving into the end game of the series now guys 🥲 not too many parts left.

Taglist: @pixelwisp @oliviasslut @larkspyrr @heroacadema @kozukatsuki @captaincyberqueen @undead-nyx @ineedtofocusfr @i-heart-fictional-boys @theycallme-becky @superhermit @black-rose-29 @disaster-rose

#hopelessla #bakugo smau #bakugo x fem!reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugo katsuki #hopeless.thirst

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