#i am not strong enough to refrain from trying to drag you all down with me
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jeanmoreaux · 1 year ago
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All your tags for the aftg posts are making me ✨ F E R A L ✨ That's it. Thank you, have a good day 🖤
thank YOU for telling me 💛 the foxes are making me feel very unhinged and insane atm so i am sure there are still some rambly tags buried in my brain that are just waiting for their moment lol. one thing about me is that i need to share the madness or it will eat me alive.
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myfictionaldreams · 2 years ago
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Overwhelming // Mafia!Stucky x fem!Reader
Summary: It had been your birthday a few days ago and both Steve and Bucky had made it their mission to give you the most lavish party followed by intense, long nighttime activities. However as you lay in bed on Monday morning, something just didn't feel quite right.
Prompt: How would the boys help Reader through a subdrop?
Requested by: @southern-goth​ (thank you so much for the request! And for the amazing header that I’ve included in your previous request, I love it!)
Tags: sfw, polyamory, subdrop, dom/sub relationship, mentions of rough sex, fluff, hurt/comfort, aftercare (lots!!), soft steve & bucky, crying/anxiety, size difference, pet names, praising, kissing
Words: 2.8k
my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link
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The night was filled with restless tossing and turning from the edge of the bed. There was nothing in particular that you could definitely pinpoint as the reason for the unease but you saw every hour of the night.
Even as Bucky’s warm, solid body found yours across the bed, his mind still deep within the sleep world, he still enveloped himself around you. Normally, the strong beat of his heart against your ear, even his natural musk would be enough to make you feel safe and relaxed in your own peaceful sleep.
However as the clock ticked to 04:30 am, all hope was lost for the land of rest and as you found yourself needing to turn in Bucky’s arms once more, the decision was made. Carefully, as to not wake the sleeping gang member, you inched out from underneath his metal arm, gently laying it back down on the bed.
Stretching out your body, you had to refrain from sighing, for no reason in particular. There was a heavy feeling settled through the centre of your chest, making your body feel heavy and weighted, almost making it an effort to even find the energy to stand.
But you pushed yourself to stand, needing to move and shake off whatever feeling had been disturbing your sleep. Deciding to go and make a coffee, you gave one last glance at the two men still sleeping, usually feeling a happy calm at being able to witness them both look so peaceful. However, your gut twisted, a lump forming in your throat that took a moment to pass.
Exiting the bedroom, your steps were slow and dragging along the carpet. Confused as to why you were feeling upset, almost like there was a rain cloud hovering over your head.
Waiting for the coffee to heat, your mind began to wonder, trying to deduce what might be wrong but in reality, you were already aware, it had just never been this impactful before.
It had been your birthday a few days ago, Steve and Bucky had made it their mission to give you the most lavish party however, it was the nighttime activities that might have been the cause for your emotions. Not only were you the centre of attention during the fucking but it had been long, intense, mind-blowing sex that left you begging for more, of which your boyfriends were happy to oblige.
The mental headspace that a session like that gave you felt almost euphoric, nothing could be negative, even falling into a little bit of subspace following it, giving the sensation of floating, like being drunk. Then a couple of hours later with the unbalance of hormones (something Bucky had to explain), it would feel like depression with how low your mood would go as you experienced a subdrop. Luckily you were never far from the boys who regularly checked in on you anyway to give the support you desperately needed.
Concluding that this was the cause for how you were feeling, you should have contemplated waking either one of your boyfriends but the shame seemed to overpower any rational thought. You were your own worst enemy during these subdrops and the added exhaustion that was influencing your body, it was a toxic pair.
Steve and Bucky had made the weekend so incredibly special for you, every moment had a smile permanently stitched to your face so for it all to come crashing down and be this needy, depressed person, you were embarrassed and ashamed. The feeling would pass, and it always did so making the decision to just suck it up and keep it to yourself, they’d already done so much for you.
As you poured the now steaming hot coffee into the cup, you heard the recognisable sound of heavy footsteps approaching from behind and rather than being excited and giddy which was usually your reaction to your boyfriends, the heavy sensation only increased in your chest.
Unbeknownst to Steve, he padded into the kitchen, smiling upon seeing you with fresh coffee. Walking up behind your much shorter body, his hands cupped your hips, gently pulling you back into his muscular build, his handsome face dropping to give a chaste kiss to your cheek.
“Good morning baby”, his voice was thick with sleep, croaking slightly. Trying to play along with it, leaning into his warmth, even though you wanted to run away and cry so he couldn’t see.
“Morning”.
As Steve spoke, he manoeuvred around you, finding his own cup to pour coffee into. “You’re up early, how are you feeling this morning?” his question was innocent but it caused your heart to pound.
“I’m fine”, you were thinking coherent thoughts to be able to think of an excuse for being up so early, usually being the last to rise. “How are you? Are you off to the gym?” referring to his attire and it wasn’t like he was travelling far with the homemade gym in the basement.
A subtle frown momentarily crossed over his expression at the monotone way you were answering his questions but he shrugged it away, you would tell him if something was wrong, putting it down to tiredness. “Yeah, need to work off some of the cake from this weekend”, he joked, a twinkle forming in his eye. “After that, I’m all yours”.
“I had you all weekend”, you were quick to take a drink of your coffee, even as it was too hot and slightly scorched your tongue. Steve squinted at you in curiosity, noting your flat tone once more.
“You can have me every second of every day if that makes you happy” he admitted softly, brushing his lips against your forehead. It did make you happy but with the mood you were in, you felt selfish and guilty for this. “Are you sure you’re ok?”
“I’m just tired, I might go back to bed”, this was a lie but he seemed to accept it, kissing your cheek once more for comfort and then heading off towards the gym. Finally being on your own, and getting what you wanted it would be an assumption to presume this would make you feel any better but it only made you feel worse. Not realising just how much you were depending on his warmth and the coolness returning to your skin as you sulked into the living room, turning on the TV to a random channel, not paying attention at all.
No, instead you stared into space, holding one of the decorative cushions to your body to try and fill the void that was aching your chest but this of course did nothing. The longer you were awake, the worst you were continuing to feel, emotionally and physically.
It was almost like being hungover, the anxiety that follows a heavy drinking session and the fatigue from the effects of alcohol, except there was no alcohol involved and you were feeling all of these effects just from a hormone imbalance.
As you continued to sit in your pity, Bucky had begun to descend the stairs in joggers and a white shirt, following the noise of the TV to find you sitting on the couch. He didn’t say a single word or notice the off-mood and simply reached your head over the back of the couch, tipping it back to peck your lips.
His touch had caused you to jump slightly having been lost in your thoughts and not heard him approaching but he was already walking into the kitchen, probably to pour his own morning drink, like he did every morning.
As if right on queue, the hulking form of the brunette returned to your eye line, smiling before taking a sip of his black coffee as he sat next to you. “What are you watching, mama?”
The lump had returned to your throat so instead of answering him, you shrugged your shoulders, not even looking at the TV, knuckles adding to the discomfort with how aggressively you held onto the pillow as if it was your lifeline.
Bucky wasn’t stupid, he knew were off the moment he saw you on the sofa, alone. Even without the glazed-over look in your eyes or the tension in your shoulders, he had known you for long enough to know what was going on. Carefully placing his cup onto the small table between the TV and the couch, Bucky sighed in frustration. Not that you were in this situation, but because you hadn’t come to him or Steve, wishing your anxiety would understand that they wanted to help and wouldn’t be annoyed or aggravated by you just simply needing them more than other days.
It was half expected anyway following the weekend, that's why Steve and Bucky had made sure that they were home today rather than in the office, making sure only to be contacted in case of emergency.
Not that this had even crossed your mind at all this morning, in fact, if asked, you couldn’t name what day it was in the week because all that consumed your mind was the hope for Bucky to get up and leave. Hope that he would find something he actually enjoyed doing instead of wasting another hour with you.
Of course, this was ridiculous thinking and if Bucky truly knew what was going through your self-sabotaged thoughts, he would probably sit you down for three hours and rant about how absurd and untrue this was.
“How are you feeling after the birthday weekend, it was slightly intense wasn’t it?” he asked casually, not taking his eyes off you for even a second.
“A bit”, was your only answer.
He continued to try and ask questions, hoping to draw some kind of a reaction of out you to engage just how severe this subdrop was and so far, it wasn’t looking that positive. “Does it hurt anywhere?”
Again, he referred to the activities from the weekend. Your response was half a shake of the head to say no but that was mostly for his benefit, desperate to not have him feeling bad because, in reality, your body was aching. Especially between your legs and upper arms from where they held you in a firm grip. It wasn’t like they hadn’t prepped but they were so much bigger than you, it always felt a little uncomfortable the day after and yesterday, you’d been begging for them to keep going, thriving in the pain mixed with pleasure. However now as the arousal was swept from your body, and feeling as fatigued as you did, it only emphasised the areas that were especially sensitive.
Judging by your demeanour, he contemplated continuing talking to you, to better understand the stand-offish behaviour but with the slight tremble rocking your body, this wasn’t what you needed.
Bucky instead opted to reach for the pillow, attempting to pull it away but you held on tightly, muttering that it was comfortable. The brunette didn’t relent, however, putting a little more strength until the pillow was firmly in his grip and being placed on the table.
Without missing a beat, Bucky was gently pulling on your arms, coaxing you into his lap. Before you could even straddle his hips, you began to sob, the emotions finally overwhelming you.
Grasping his shirt tightly, you cried heavily into Bucky’s t-shirt and he just held you, running his warm hand up and down your spine in slow circles whilst his metal hand rested on the back of your head.
You cried and cried until completely exhausted and only hiccups remained, eyes now sore and Bucky’s t-shirt soaked. Your boyfriend hadn’t asked you any further questions, he didn’t need to, having been right about his theory, Bucky knew you just needed to be close and present with him and Steve once he returned from the gym.
“You’re safe mama, I’ve got you, I’m not going anywhere, I love you”. Bucky repeated these four statements repeatedly, over and over until his mouth was dry and even then continued until his fists loosed the grip of his t-shirt.
“I know you’re going to be feeling some negative emotions right now Doll but I need you to listen to me and believe what I’m saying. We love you, this feeling is going to pass and we’ll be right next to you the entire time.”
Bucky’s words did help to break down that mental barrier but now you were completely exhausted.
“What we are going to do first is go upstairs, I’m going to run you a hot bath then we’ll have some food, maybe have a midday nap, we can watch a movie or play a game. We are going to take today slowly but we’re not leaving your side, not until you’re feeling better, ok?”
With your eyes closed, you were only able to nod against his chest in response. His list of activities sounded perfect, the desire to run away having completely disappeared now which you were thankful for but it was only replaced with the sensation to be cradled to his body. 
Luckily for you, Bucky knew this and was more than happy to mostly carry you up the stairs and into the master bathroom, settling you into the bathtub, and helping to discard your clothes before filling it up with water hot enough to relax your tense muscles. Bucky himself didn’t climb into the bath, instead sat on the floor, stroking his fingers across your head exactly how you liked it, smiling as your furrowed brows relaxed.
You could have fallen asleep right there and then, until Steve’s voice was drifting into your ears as he stood at the bathroom door, sweat dripping from his brow. “Everything ok?”
For the first time that day, you properly looked at Bucky, feeling slightly anxious at the thought of him having to tell Steve about the subdrop. But your boyfriend was quick to swipe away the negativity as he said in a low voice, “Remember what I said downstairs? About the list of activities, we’re doing today? Well Stevie here is going to take my place here and I’ll go and cook us some brunch, how does that sound?”
Surprisingly, the corner of your lips lifted into a subtle smile. Bucky beamed at this, the corner of his eyes creasing with the joy he was displaying before he reached across the kiss the tip of your nose and speak to Steve.
You couldn’t hear what was said but Steve was soon joining you in the bathroom and you sat and watched silently as he took off his gym attire. “Enjoying the view baby?” he asked teasingly before helping you to sit forward, giving him room to sit behind you in the water, eagerly pulling your body back to rest against his. “I love you” he whispered as he held you tightly.
If you weren’t so exhausted, you probably would have cried at even that smallest statement because it was all you wanted to hear.
Turning slightly in his embrace, once again you didn’t feel like talking, even though you wanted to repeat your love to him just as much as you had wanted to with Bucky, the words seemed to fail you. So instead you lay your head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat thumping against your ear. Steve understood your intentions, knew these little signs that showed your vulnerability and made sure to tighten his grip slightly, making you feel enclosed more.
Unsure of how much time had passed, Steve eventually had to move the two of you to make sure you were both washed before the water cooled too much. Then once out of the water, he didn’t waste any time helping to dry your body in a large cream towel, dressing you in oversized pyjamas before even starting to care for himself. As the two of you returned downstairs, Bucky announced that brunch was nearly finished and from the smell, it was going to be delicious.
Throughout the entire time, you were attached to either Steve or Bucky, whether that was holding a hand or sitting on either of their laps and they made sure you didn’t do any chores such as washing up. It was important that you rested when feeling this low so straight after finishing the food, they situated into the living room, finding the TV still on from earlier.
You weren’t particularly bothered with whatever movie was selected. No, you were more distracted by the hulky sandwich they’d somehow squashed you into. Your legs were thrown over Steve’s lap, head laying on his shoulder and Bucky was spooning you from behind, it felt like there wasn’t one part of your body that wasn’t touching both of them and you loved it, not even needing a blanket to feel secure in.
Sleep came peacefully now, the ache in your chest having eased after all the comfort you’d been given. Your last thoughts before succumbing fully to sleep were how thankful you were to Steve and Bucky, looking forward to waking up with more energy so you could show them just how much you really loved them.
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smt4flynn · 1 year ago
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ch2; embiggen, embolden
Note: R18/Explicit, minors DNI!
I decided to write a chapter 2-ish of my fanfic; this isn't actually really a follow-up to the first chapter, but more like a 'what-if Astarion decided to do something else' ('-')b
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“You want me to just watch?” are the words that slip out of you when Astarion carries you away, settling you safely on a rock a small distance away from him, and he tilts his head at you with amusement. Aglow with the magics that have him large, Astarion is quite the intimidating sight – he towers you, casting a shadow over you that the cursed lands only seem to amplify. There is a wild sort of joy in his eyes at the fact that he is so large he can scoop you up in his hand and just swallow you down into his stomach.
The thought is terrifying.
You push it away, trying to focus now instead on the fact that Astarion has something perverse dancing behind those eyes of his. That he trusts you enough to want to indulge in strange, fetishistic acts is warming, even if a bit embarrassing.
“Yes, darling, though you could have worded it much better than that, don’t you think?” he says teasingly, two fingers playfully rubbing the top of your head, and you bring your hands up to rub them, nuzzling your cheek into his touch. He smiles sweetly. “I want you to watch me touch myself; I am curious as to how much I... spend, I can produce, if you will.” you roll your eyes and Astarion lets out a rumbling chuckle, amused by you as much as he is himself. “Oh come now, don’t give me that look.”
“Even when my beloved is being perverse?” you ask softly. His face softens for a small moment and he bends close to you to give you another extremely chaste kiss, probably just to keep from pushing you over. You return it as best you can, given how small you are with him like this. “I’ll refrain from judgment, then. Very well, make me audience to your degeneracy.”
With a laugh, he comes to a stand and you focus on him undressing his bottoms. You watch as he unties the binds of his breeches, fingers hooking into the waistband to push them down where his legs are revealed.
You normally admire his legs; despite the fact that he isn’t as thickset as Halsin is, there are clear muscles in his legs from all of the acrobatics he gets into. His legs aren’t as big as Halsin’s, though they are clearly muscular, firm, and strong. Seeing his legs so large now, enough to quite literally crush you into nothing, it does embarrass you more than it should. His briefs cling to his crotch, bulging with his growing erection, and you are momentarily flustered with how... well, big it is.
Pushing the embroidered underwear down, you are completely floored at the sight of his erection bobbing out. It is already drooling at the tip, thick globs of pre-cum beading before dragging down the veiny underside of his erection. He steps back before stopping, as though reconsidering himself, and then he takes a seat next to you instead. He plucks you off of your rock and settles you atop his leg, which you have to throw your hands out so that you can try and balance yourself and keep yourself from rocking off. He lets one leg laze in front of him, the one you’re setting on opening at an angle on the ground, as though to keep you away from his erection.
“Well then,” Astarion says, as though attempting to hype himself up, before finally wrapping his hand around his fat, bobbing erection. He gasps, almost as if surprised by his own touch, giving himself a squeeze and slowly he begins to move his hand up and down his erection. You watch, enraptured, at the sight of his large hand gliding across his throbbing cock, the vein on the underside looking especially prominent. His free hand reaches down to cup his heavy looking testes, squeezing them in his grip and he lets out a shrill moan.
His strokes grow faster while he continues massaging his heavy testicles, mouth falling open with his groaning, and you shift on his leg. You spread your own and jolt your hips, trying to get any friction against your aching vulva, utterly enraptured by the way his foreskin moves with his furious masturbation. You grind leisurely against his leg and you hear him huff; when you tilt your head back, it is to the sight of his eyes focusing on you, teeth sinking down to his lower lip to turn it all red and swollen.
He gazes sidelong at you, lips slightly parted, all while keeping his movements on his straining cock, still squeezing and rubbing at his heavy balls, and he watches as you grind yourself down on his leg, your thighs tensing and a deep ache spreading throughout your abdomen, your cunt pulsing and feeling achingly empty.
“So cute,” Astarion murmurs, voice heavy with want; pre-cum is dribbling heavily from his tip, and your panties sticking to your vulva from your own arousal, and he grunts when his strokes grow sloppier and sloppier. He leans back, voice growing higher pitched and a little whiny; something about this scenario seems to be especially getting him off. He moans, breathy and almost begging, and he keens abruptly, squeezing himself roughly, and you watch as he finally cums -
With the increase in size, it seems it means an increase in how much he ejaculates. So much cum spurts out of him, forming a small puddle before the two of you, and you watch in awe at the thick amount that he ends up squeezing out of himself. He gasps and whines, stroking himself still, rubbing and squeezing his balls to try and keep his orgasm going. His hips lift up, almost jolting you off, and he gasps, his voice a long whine, until he can no longer keep cumming, producing nothing and stroking himself just to feel the over-sensitivity before he shivers and finally lets his hand drop.
Your attention is dragged away to the amount of semen currently cooling (further, given his sperm is already surprisingly cold) in the environments of the shadow-cursed lands. There is... so much. It is almost daunting how much there is, and Astarion chuckles, noticing your gaze.
“We are going to have to figure out how to clean that.” you say while Astarion lazes like a cat sunbathing. He just snorts.
“Thinking of cleaning up when you’re wet and wanting? What a pragmatic dear you are.” and you flush. You shift a little uncomfortably, reminded of the fact that your panties are clinging to your vulva, that you are still dripping wet and desperate for him, even though you... really do not know if you can take him.
Still, Astarion taps at you to look up at him so that you can see him poke his tongue out, flicking it up in a quick movement, and – “Astarion!” you cry out, scandalized, and he laughs all in good humour.
“It would be fun to figure out though, wouldn’t it?”
As it turns out, it is fun to figure out if Astarion can eat you out. A lot, actually, and he is all laughs and sweet little smiles by the end of it.
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okay-j-hannah · 3 years ago
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You Think You’re Too Thin
Preference
Characters: Jacob Black, Sam Wilson, Carlos Oliveira
Warnings: ✨ insecure reader ✨ You is kind. You is smart. You is important. Period 💜
Request: “I'm kinda afraid of sending this... I don't know why 😅 I'm really thin and I don't like that cause I wanted to have that pretty curves some girls have and I wanted to ask you to please write for me Jacob Black, Sam Wilson and Carlos Oliveira comforting their friend / crush who is insecure about being too thin and not pretty enough and confessing their love 🥰” Anon
~~~
Jacob
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She watched as Jacob lay on the scooter, rolling himself under the raised car. He clanked around as he took apart the underbelly of the engine.
His arms rippled with muscle as he worked; his shirt became taut as he mindlessly flexed and moved.
Her arms subconsciously moved to her own shirt, feeling how loose the fabric was. She knew her own arms would never be as bold with muscle and her clothes would never feel as tight. She could barely fill in what she wore now, using belts to keep pants up and layers to conceal how thin she was.
She was getting that faraway look, her lips falling into an unattractive frown. She hardly noticed when Jacob wheeled his way to the surface.
“Hey, could you hand me that tire?” he had a smirk on his face, speaking that he already knew she wouldn’t be able to pick up the tire.
She felt incredibly weak as she made the attempt anyway, squatting down and using her arms to push a thick tire as hard as she could. Jacob sauntered over, snickering, “Don’t worry, I can do it.”
He wiped his hands free of smudges but hesitated when he spotted that frown. His brow creased as he walked over, “I was only joking, (Y/N).” He put a hand to her mouth, using his fingers to upturn her lips into an unnerving smile.
“Very funny.” She shoved his hand away, choosing to sit on the nearby workbench.
Jacob followed her, standing and meeting her at eyelevel, “What are you thinking?”
She shrugged, “I’m not feeling so good.”
He observed her distracted eyes and watched her pick at her clothes. He mentally kicked himself for making fun of her weakness when she was obviously hurting about it.
It made him hurt to think that she was.
“You know what I’m thinking?” he asked. He reached for her chin, turning her dazed eyes to his warm ones. “I’m thinking I’ve never been so in love with the thought of you.”
Her gaze cleared up considerably, “What?”
He smiled, so bright compared to his tanned skin, “I said… I’m so in love…”
She was so taken aback that every negative thought she’d had moments before was thrown out the window. “I’m going to need you to say that one more time.”
Jacob bent down, hands on either side of her and resting on the workbench. His face was incredibly close to hers, “I was just thinking how so in love I am with the mere thought of you. God knows what I’ll do with you right here.”
She could barely remember what she was upset about. All she wanted was Jacob’s arms around her, protecting her from every insecure thought she’d had before.
Sam
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(Y/N) dragged along Sam’s wings, unable to lift them onto her shoulders without pulling a muscle. She was practically panting as she finally made it to the Avengers field – a wide expanse of green grass covering the surrounding miles and miles.
Sam met her there, laughing the way he did as he thought of a joke, “Enjoying the fresh air?”
“I know I volunteered to grab your gear, but you could’ve warned me it weighed a ton.”
He simply smiled, refraining from saying anything that would make her feel weak and small. “You ready for a test flight?”
“You were serious about that?”
“I thought that’s why you volunteered.” He strapped the wing pack to his shoulders, winking at her, “Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall. Believe it or not, I’ve flown before.”
She laughed, winding her arms around her waist, “I don’t know.”
He looked at her arms holding herself, “I promise you won’t snap in half – I’m strong, but not that strong,” he laughed easily, trying to ease her nerves.
“Don’t say that just yet,” (Y/N) muttered mutely, “You don’t know how thin I actually am.”
“Come here,” he said, activating his wings, “There’s something I want to show you.”
She found his capable arms grip her waist. She blushed horribly as she thought of how sharp her bones could be.
“Sorry if I poke you.”
He laughed, his wings folding out and powering up, “You planning on poking my eye out? I do have flight goggles. Real sexy.”
“No, I mean, I’m a little bony. We’re so close I… I would feel bad if I’m poking you.”
It might’ve just been her imagination, but it felt like Sam was holding her even closer now, “You kidding? I’m too distracted by the beautiful lady I’m holding in my arms.”
If her blush wasn’t evident before, it was blinding now.
And they blasted into the air, shooting for the sky.
(Y/N) would have feared she’d simply blow away, slipping into the open air and falling to her demise. She was certainly light enough to slip through Sam’s grip, but she found that his hold was definite.
It appeared there was no way Sam was going to let her go. It was a somewhat comforting thought.
They reached a standard height and leveled, flying around the Avengers campus. (Y/N) found herself laughing hysterically as her hair whipped around her face. She gripped onto Sam’s shoulders all the while he grinned.
“Hey,” he yelled over the wind, “I still wanted to show you something.”
And (Y/N) pried her face away from his shoulder to look below them, almost shrieking at the height. But just a pinprick below them was something laid out on the compounds roof. It looked like a small table with a full lunch spread.
“What is that supposed to be?”
“Our lunch date,” Sam said, “If you’re hungry after this.”
She gaped at him, a giggle making an appearance, “Ask me again when we’ve landed.”
Carlos
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“I almost had them!”
She was yelling, reloading her gun and stuffing first aid into her pouches. Carlos stood on the other side of the room, still catching his breath.
“And you just had to get in the way.”
“I didn’t ask you to cover for me,” he pushed his shaggy hair out of his dirtied face.
She bristled, “If I didn’t you would’ve died!”
He was smug, “I knew you couldn’t live in a Carlos-less world.”
She grumbled, “Now I have to backtrack on weeks of work. How am I supposed to catch them now when they have a damn helicopter?”
Carlos tried to even his breathing, tossing his automatic aside. He was waiting for her to calm herself before saying something stupid.
“Thank you,” he muttered. “For what you did.”
(Y/N) slammed her hands against the barricaded door, “Maybe if I was bigger, stronger… I could’ve stopped them too.”
“You couldn’t have been in two places at once.”
She grimaced, “Maybe if I wasn’t so small,” she said, voice growing quieter, “So thin… I’d be more capable.”
Carlos frowned at that. This was about more than just the failed mission. He was slowly making his way towards her, “(Y/N), you know you’re the baddest ass I know.”
She waved a flimsy hand, still frustrated.
He stayed a few feet away as to not push boundaries, “You’ve seen what’s out there. You’ve seen how outnumbered we are. You’ve seen how few of us have survived.” He folded his arms, protective, “Just judging by that I would say you are very capable.”
(Y/N) still refused to look at him, hating how she felt; hating how she projected it on him. “You’re infuriating.”
“But you still kept me around,” he gave her a side smile, willing her to have one too.
“I’m glad.” She hugged herself with her thin arms.
Carlos took a few steps closer, “Me too. Because a (Y/N)-less world would be the last thing I’d want.” He looked very near holding her face with his hand, but he stopped himself.
“More than a Carlos-less world?” she asked, starting to smile.
It warmed his cold frame, “I was kind of hoping we’d cancel each other out there. I want you – you want me… that way both our wishes are granted.” He waved his hands about as he rambled, “You see where I’m going with this?”
“You really are infuriating,” but she was grinning this time.
~~~
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cherryskyies · 3 years ago
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Obedience
Childe x reader // fem!reader
-in which you can't stand childes routines, but like a trained dog, you keep coming back with your tail between your legs and obey.
This is just a snippet, a drabble if you will, of the full thing. I just want feedback on if this is something you would all enjoy reading when finished.
Main Masterlist
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"Where have you been!? It's been 3 days, Childe," you yelled, slamming a cupboard. "3 fucking days." 
Tears were flowing down your face, both from anger and relief. You were terrified something had happened to him, that he was dead somewhere. 
You took a deep breath, sitting down at the table opposite of Childe, who had an unreadable expression, "God, I don't- where can I even begin with how angry I am at you?" 
"I was busy, I told you I would be. What's the fuss about?" Childe asked, brows furrowed as he leant forward in his chair, elbows resting on the table. "3 days isn't long, 72 or so hours. Not much can happen in 72 hours." 
You wanted to strangle him- has he ever thought about anyone but himself? The urge to hurt him was strong, but you refrained. Explaining to Kaeya and Jean why you were arrested for aggravated assault was not something you were in the mood for.
Childe chuckled, "You look like you want to kill me." 
If looks could kill, you'd both be dead. His look was as dangerous as yours, if not more.
"I want to do a lot of things to you, all of which would end with me in Kaeya's office, trying to explain myself-" you paused, wondering if that would be considered a threat, before continuing. "I can't do this, we need a break or maybe, we need to break up." you added, knowing a break wouldn't do much justice. 
Childe's face hardened, he disliked both options, wishing you'd throw in a 'none of the above!' option and call it a day, "Can we talk about this tomorrow? It's late and I'm tired."
You laughed, a genuine laugh, "Tomorrow?" He had to be crazy. "No, Childe, there is no tomorrow. I'm leaving now, so you better get your shit together."
He jumped up, towering over you as he blocked the front door. Childe was significantly taller and stronger, there was no way you could get around him, "Fucking move, what the hell!?"
He stayed still, continuing to look down at you with an amused look on his face.
"We are going to talk about this, sit down." His voice was calm, too calm. You felt uneasy, praying to whatever God that he'd move and let you leave. 
Instead, you felt a hand turn you around and push you forward, gentle as to not hurt you, but enough to make you move.
"Couch, now."
You felt embarrassed, like a dog performing a trick for its owner- you listened. 
He sat across from you, dragging a hand across his face. There were dark circles under his eyes, for a split second you felt bad. 
"I am g- We are going to bed," it was a statement, a command. "When I wake up, you will be in this house ready to talk to me, understood?" 
A whispered "yes," came from you, a look of defeat crossing your face. This wasn't what you had planned, you should have been close to Mondstadt and away from here by now.
Childe nodded, giving a forced smile as he stood to leave, "Good, thank you." 
You felt ashamed, he had just walked all over you and you let him. 
"Good night," you choked out, debating if it was too late to leave while he slept.
But, like a dog desperate to please their master, you stayed, obeying his command.
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lokiskitten · 4 years ago
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Request for @brat-blog-2 !!
Loki Laufeyson | dark obsession
Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader
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plot : after Loki takes over Asgard and becomes king, he is now finally able to tear you away from his brother’s grip, before deciding to make you pay for it.
warnings : cursing, degrading, physical abuse, mental abuse, biting, none/co, smut, unprotected sex, physical manipulation, lack of after care.
PLEASE, this imagine contains NONE/CO. Do not read it if it’s a subject that you’re uninterested/sensitive with. All irrelevant comments will be deleted. Now, to all the people that are willing to read, enjoy! :D
Groans exit your lips as you were forcefully dragged all the way up to Odin’s throne, which had now unfortunately become Loki’s- and that against everyone’s will. Most of the Asgardians had decided to submit to their new savior, however you decided not to take part in this petty move and remain faithful to the people you believe deserved it, such as Thor or Odin. Unfortunately, this attitude easily led you to get in trouble with the king and his surroundings, remaining unaware that Loki had been obsessing over you for a while now which allowed you to avoid great moments of anxiety. But now, you had just gotten caught, and escaping felt absolutely impossible.
The guards’ grip tightened around your fragile arms as they forced you on your knees before Loki’s sat silhouette, wishing to avoid accidentally letting you go which would’ve risked to annoy their king. The raven haired man’s green eyes looked down at you, smirk appearing onto his devilish lips as you progressively started to feel more and more uncomfortable about his intense stare. Thankfully, hatred managed to drag you out of this shame hole, giving you strength to stand up face to this man who claimed to be your king though he truly was nowhere near reaching this rank. “Ah, at last. You almost made me wait.” He spoke, raspy voice echoing through the large room. And as you continued to physically and mentally struggle, Loki carried on talking.
“You gave me a really hard time, in fact.” He explained, causing you to cringe as you truly did not look forward to discovering the double meaning hiding behind this creepy sentence. Getting up from where he had been sitting, the man accepted to remove his horns before taking a couple of steps down the luxurious throne which once belonged to his adoptive father. Watching him near you stroke another shockwave of hatred through your body, head looking up as you were no longer fighting the guards grip- or at least not physically. “Tell me... Why keep fighting it? All you have to do is give in. Forget about the past, and become my queen.” He purred, though you felt nowhere near softened by his devilish words.
“You are not king.” The words escaped your lips like the purest yet sneakiest venom. Hearing this sentence, Loki groaned and turned around in order to refrain from allowing his anger to take over his calm yet frustrated mindset. “I’m a better king than you’ve ever known.” Loki spoke lowly, hand forming a fist in anticipation of your next, surely offensive, answer. “You are nothing compared to your brother!” You dared to affirm, head dangerously moving closer to his silhouette through the words’ hatred. This sentence crossed a line which probably should’ve been kept intact, easily leading Loki to unleash his anger out on your left cheek. The back of his hand collided with your face as he turned around in a fast manner, your head and upper body propelled backwards due to the imminent shock you had just received.
A small wince escape your lips, Loki’s silhouette now hovering above yours as the guards took a step back in order to leave some space for their king to outburst. “I am ten times the king he will ever be, you little quim! And you’re just a fool for believing otherwise.” Progressively, his tone lowered, entire being calming down as his hand travelled to your bruised cheek. “I could show you a good time... and that only if you agree to give in.” The young man proposed, though the physical contact was soon broken by your strong attitude. Shaking your head in an attempt to make his hand back away from your face, a sigh escaping Loki’s lips as he seemingly agreed to take a step back and watch your pathetic self struggle helplessly.
“Alright. Have it your own way then.” He affirmed, green eyes drifting up to his guards, a move which was accompanied by a simple nod of his head. Instantly, your arms were trapped by their palms, body dragged away towards god knew where whilst Loki frustratedly made his way back to the throne. Screams exited your lips as you had completely gave up on any form of dignity, though it wasn’t as if Loki hadn’t proceeded to completely steal it from you barely a couple of seconds ago.
[...]
After spending the rest of your day locked away in the dungeons, body sitting down against the wall whilst trying to contain it’s need of food and water, an unexpected visit occurred. Before you could even tell, Loki turned out to be standing before your quivering frame, refraining from making physical contact with you as he simply waited for the moment where you would finally notice his presence. Barely looking up, you decided to offer him no form of attention as you knew that it was something that made his blood boil. “It would be foolish to ignore my presence.” Loki explained, kneeling before your folded self. Your face looked away, jaw clenching in an upset and painful manner.
Seeing how you seemingly weren’t willing to properly cooperate, the demigod rose from the floor and made his way towards your bed which had graciously been gifted by the dungeons services. He sat down, legs remaining spread as his bulge pressed against the elastic fabric of his suit. Finally agreeing to look up, a blush spread over your cheeks when you made eye contact with the man who was now your king. Gasping uncomfortably, your hands immediately decided to push down the fabric of your dress in order to hide the leftovers of flesh which weren’t covered by the thin piece of fabric. Even with the attitude your carried, your instincts forced you to go humble face to the threat of male gaze.
“If I may, I think you look alluring alluring.” Loki confessed, green eyes moving up from your body to your face. It didn’t take long for you to understand the man’s intention- like a doe being preyed by a dangerous cheetah in the mountains. Noticing that the door had been left unlocked since the king remained in your cell, you decided to attempt the impossible by getting up to your feet and rushing towards the exit. Unfortunately, and quite unexpectedly, Loki’s silhouette summoned before you could reach the see through wall, stopping you in your track. Thankfully, this vision was nothing but a clone yet which still successfully managed to make you back away in fear as your eyes stared straight into his smirking features.
Your feet bumped against the edge of the bed, making you fall back as the real Loki got up right in time to avoid your silhouette. The demigod joined his clone with a chuckle, both of them looking down at you in amusement as your troubled mind couldn’t manage to figure out who the real Loki was. The only object which turned out to be in your reach was a book, and your hand didn’t waste any time before taking a firm hold of it in order to throw it at your abuser. Unfortunately, you couldn’t seem to tell which one of them was real- and seeing how you had one chance out of two to miss, your brain took a decision rather quickly... but unfortunately, it didn’t turn out to be efficient. The book passed straight through the projected figure of Loki, landing onto the floor shortly before the clone faded away from your sight.
A disappointed sigh escaped Loki’s lips as your eyes stared at his face in fear. “That was audacious. It’s a shame that your instincts decided to lead you towards the wrong path.” The king affirmed before taking ahold of your ankles, easily managing to get on top of your fragile self. You squirmed, head tilting back as you wrists were now trapped by his strong hold. “Can’t you see that I want you. I need you, my dear.” Loki confessed roughly, face buried against your neck as he kept on kissing and licking your warm flesh. You exhaled loudly, refraining from moaning as this unwanted gesture would’ve only encouraged the madman through his acts.
Soon enough, your mind and body both agreed that it was time for you to stop fighting it, arms helplessly laying beside your head as the demigod continued to do whatever he wished of your body. Thankfully, emptying the rest of the cells had been one of the first things that Loki did shortly after becoming king- which offered you both complete privacy. His hand roamed your clothed waist, the other one taking a rough hold of your breast he’s seemingly been wishing to touch for a long time now. You could feel his teeth biting at your jawline, probably creating bruises which you wouldn’t get to see until the moment you’d be free from his grip and facing your own reflection in the mirror.
Almost carefully, Loki sat you up before pulling your dress over your body, naked silhouette now exposed to his sight as you had never felt more vulnerable in your whole entire life. Soon enough, he decided that it was your turn to return the gesture, limbs falling back besides his own body as a smile appeared on his face. “Undress me.” Loki demanded calmly, green orbs looking at your scared self as he admired the way you still found the strength to fight the situation. Carefully, his hand traveled up to your chest, index and middle finger pressing against your sternum as his facial expressions were now stern. “Undress me.” Loki repeated, green mist swirling around his fingers and magically penetrating through your skin.
Nearly instantly, your brain was intoxicated with the painful grip which was Loki’s magic. Forced to obey, your hands moved up to his shoulders as you started to remove his first layers of clothing. Surprisingly enough, and as difficult to figure out as his suit could be, you managed to remove the layers of clothes as if you’ve been doing this for your entire life. Though, even if you obeyed his orders and successfully managed to undress the demigod, your soul remained empty from any forms of emotions- which was soon to become a dislike for the unamused god of mischief.
The man now sat shirtless face to your naked self, magic exiting your body as he forcefully laid you back down against the rough sheets. It felt as if you had just awoken from a dream, eyes blinking curiously as you barely managed to understand what was going on around yourself nor properly get back into reality. All you could feel were Loki’s hand on you as his clothed crotch pressed against your bare one, happy grunts and hungry moans escaping his lips as he let his lust out on the skin of your neck. His boner was undeniable, and your scent penetrating through his nostrils only managed to make it swell even harder as it prepared for the upcoming penetration.
On another hand, you turned out to have a hard time getting any wet, as the thought of having to submit to his demands made you feel sick in your stomach. However, nature was soon to take over as the feeling of his crotch against yours uncontrollably caused your genitals to throb and moisten- preparing for intercourse just like Loki’s. His head moved down to your chest, lips easily wrapping around your nipple which he religiously suckled on. Your eyelids shut close in order to avoid paying too much attention to the multiple sensations going through your body at the moment, though it was becoming harder and harder seeing how Loki truly didn’t help.
Climbing back to your face, both of your crotches aligned again as his hand moved down in order to lazily pull his own pants down, and that just enough for his member to be set free. A wince escaped his lips due to the friction the movement managed to create for his cock to enjoy, warm tip colliding with your clit as Loki took a couple of seconds to blindly align his length with your slightly moist entrance. His lips pressed against yours as his warm member slid inside of your core, a loud yet deep and creepy moan escaping his lips as his bare stomach collided with your skin.
Never once you believed ending up having to submit to such an act in your life, and yet here you were : laying down in the arms of a man you were meant to despise. However, the intercourse technically remained none consensual. As soon as he had reached balls deep, the demigod took a couple of seconds to catch his breath as this first sexual contact was visibly sending him head over heels. At least, one of you was having fun. You adjusted the position of your legs against the bed, leading Loki to do same as you could feel his stomach bulge every time he breathed in. “Fuck, my darling... you know how to make your king happy.” The man praised with a grin before starting to thrust in and out of your entrance.
A gentle hiss exited your closed mouth as Loki allowed multiple winces to escape his parted lips, his head tilting back in pleasure whilst your breasts bounced generously every time his balls collided with your ass. Once in a while, you noticed that the god of mischief would stop and enjoy some cosy time inside of your warm and soaked self as he caught his breath, hand always pressed against your cheek as he either kissed you or stared right into your eyes. Then, he would begin to thrust again and allow more frustrated groans to escape his lips as his body took care of slowly building up it’s owner’s climax.
His mouvements were soon to become sloppier, betraying the undeniable fact that your partner was soon going to release his semen against your cervix. Of course, from where you patiently laid, you couldn’t help but apprehend this moment as your worst fear was for him to cum inside of you and cause a pregnancy you did not want to occur. Finally, a moan escaped the man’s lips as he paused inside of you, the lower part of his shaft moving in waves as his scrotum throbbed and twitched. Your greatest fear had just come to reality as you could sense the thick and warm liquid stain your walls, grin appearing on Loki’s seemingly satisfied face.
“Oh my lord.. that felt so nice. I’m afraid I couldn’t thank you enough.” He confessed whilst looking down at you, shortly after managing to wash away his orgasm. Pulling out of you and causing a sudden emptiness to take over your stretched pussy, a couple of more droplets of white semen leaked out of his tip which he made sure to wipe off against your sensitive clit. Your jaw clenched as you tried your best to remain calm though your heart was rushing due to your ovaries receiving the needed ingredient to produce a living being. “I can’t wait for you to give birth to my heir.” He affirmed, sat down on the edge of the bed as he lazily pulled his pants back up.
This sentence was enough to pull you out of your daytime nightmares only to dip you into a worse one, eyes filled with fear and hatred staring up at him in a determined manner. A dark chuckle escaped Loki’s lips as he seemed to appreciate your reaction, feeling amused by behaving as if he didn’t know that was something you wouldn’t enjoy. Mental torture was in fact his favorite. “But don’t you worry my darling, I will make sure to find time through my many duties in order to visit you often.” The demigod added, confirming the fact that you probably wouldn’t get to leave this cell until your pregnancy was led to term.
Sorry for being so inactive! Here’s an imagine I hope y’all can enjoy. Unfortunately, I think I’ve been shadowbanned. ( @delightfulheartdream )
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nanaminokanojo · 3 years ago
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Play the Game | Nanami Kento X You | Part 7/8
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CHARACTERS: Nanami Kento X You (fem!reader | PLEASE READ THE NOTES BELOW*) | Gojo Satoru | Geto Suguru | Shoko Ieiri | Utahime Iori | other JJK Characters CHAPTER COUNT: 7/8 WORD COUNT: 6,400+ GENRE: romance | fluff | slight angst | smut MINORS DNI | ooc depictions | female reader with described appearance* | modern au | rich people au | aged up characters CHAPTER TRIGGER WARNING: profanity | age gap | cigarette smoking | strong/mature/suggestive language | smut (fingering, unprotected sex, slight daddy kink XD, etc.) SPOILERS: n/a STATUS: COMPLETED
collection masterlist
one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight
"Play the Game" Masterlist
"You always hide here when you're down," Geto said, stepping onto the rickety floors of the abandoned wooden gazebo at the far edge of the walled gardens. It was meant to be torn down but for your insistence for it to stay erect.
He took out a cigarette and lit it, taking a long drag when you didn't answer, huddled on one of the corners of the hexagonal structure. "You really shouldn't have done that," he told you, his voice ringing crisp in the still air.
"You should really quit that dirty habit," you muttered in a form of retaliation, not really in the mood to be lectured.
"I could say the same with your games, Y/N!" he said harshly, the first time he ever would. It was more for the fact that he felt frustrated that you kissed him all for the benefit of another man as opposed to merely scolding you for whatever wrongdoing you've committed. He felt all the more frustrated that he was doing it at all.
"I'm sorry if I dragged you into this," you told him sincerely. "I shouldn't have –"
"I am not sorry," he interrupted you. "I wanted that for a while now."
"What?" You stood up and walked towards him, making him turn to face you. "What are you talking about?"
Geto placed a hand behind his neck, exhaling exaggeratedly and throwing his head back, closing his eyes momentarily before meeting your blue gaze. "I understand why Kento is taking this harder than what you're expecting." He sighed. "It probably would have been better if you kissed Yuuji instead."
You just blinked at him, perplexed. "I don't get it."
It's now or never. He wanted you to know at least before you made up your mind, but knowing you, he knew you already did. And he wasn't going to be your choice. "Look, I like you. I wanted you for myself ever since you entered university."
"Huh?"
"And three years ago, I told Kento about how I felt," he droned on. "And maybe he thinks that's still the case, that I am still his rival where you are concerned."
"So are you?" you demanded.
He shook his head, smiling as he blew smoke at the opposite direction. "I know a losing game when I see one, and honestly, I'm rooting for the two of you."
You clutched at his arm. "Suguru..."
He ruffled your hair, throwing his cigarette away and hugging you to his side. "Don't get me wrong, princess. I was hurt that I wasn't your favorite anymore. I wanted to tell you, but you beat me to it and told me you liked Kento instead."
"You'll always be my favorite," you said. "You guys don't get replaced, not to me. I love you all differently, and I have things I share with each of you that I can never have with the other."
Geto's eyes widened slightly at your words. "I'll hold you to that." He snickered then. "Seriously though, where the hell did the two of you get things so wrong? Everything just went to shit in a matter of hours. And I thought Ieiri and I were being very specific with our instructions to you."
"Ieiri?"
"She's been talking to Kento, too. You two are just too dense and slow."
You punched him on the arm, glaring at him.
"Ow!" he grumbled, rubbing at the sore spot. "I'm a model, you know. You're not supposed to mark me."
"Oh, is that what you tell all your girls?" you teased.
He rolled his eyes at you. "Kento already made it back to the house. You should apologize."
You stood on your toes and kissed him on the cheek, hugging him tight.
"You might want to refrain from doing just that, princess," he said but you just giggled and made your way back to the manor. "You're still my favorite!" you called out.
He took another stick if cigarette, chuckling at you, but as he was about to light it, he opted not to.
**
You've done it this time. You just knew it. You realized that when you sobered up from all the crying you did after the incident at the lake. It was too late to say you should have listened to Yuuji and regret wasn't really something you could relate to. Typically. Now, you wanted him to say, "I told you so." Him and Megumi. Throw in Nobara, too, but you knew you weren't going to forgive yourself if things didn't turn back the way they used to be where you and Nanami were involved. That was all you were hoping for if he really has been put off by the mere idea of you.
Geto was just as much of a trickster as you are, but what you did not foresee was the result and his reaction to you, and you weren’t exactly ready for the his confession. That was a first and after speaking with him, you understood. Nanami was downright outraged. He might have not gone all out on you about the matter but you knew there was something else he wasn't saying. He has always been considerate of your feelings, and you were afraid you've trampled on his. It was regardless of whether you meant it or not. You just crossed the line.
The situation wasn't good, and you knew Gojo would have killed you if he saw just how you were behaving at the lake, and you could just pray to every higher being out there that he never gets to find out or you’ll have no choice but to sit down and listen to his lecture. He may be averse to the idea of you dating any of his friends, and he may be the best brother anyone could have, but he would definitely not tolerate what you have done.
A bigger part of everything that’s been happening was your fault. You knew it, and you weren't afraid to admit it either. Although Nanami may have his faults for being so much of an over-thinker and being indecisive, he was right. Why couldn't you be a normal person for once and just be honest about how you feel? Why couldn't you just tell Nanami you loved him and you have been in love with him for the longest time? Again, you couldn't relate to the idea because you haven’t ever been able to healthily express your opinion, but enough was enough. You were going to do it tonight. It didn't matter what the result was. You wanted him in your life, and you’ll go through lengths to have him.
After tossing and turning on your bed for what seemed like hours and later wearing a path on your bedroom floor while fidgeting on the hem of your silk robe, you finally decided there was no way you were sleeping. You couldn’t if it saves you when the dread of him totally disappearing because of what you do gnawed at you from the inside.
You were worried sick of Nanami who disappeared after the incident. You called him on the phone several times but every attempt went straight to voicemail, and out of your frustrations, you found yourself retreating to that same spot where Geto found you. You were only able to rest easy when he spoke to you, telling you that Nanami already made it back to the manor.
Functioning on instinct, you got out of your room barefoot, the flaps of your robe flying behind you as you marched towards the guest room where he was staying. You even had your fist raised to knock on the door but at that very moment, you stopped. For the first time, you felt vulnerable. You didn't have a clue about what you would say to him the moment you see him. You didn't know how you would approach him or if it was already the right time to do so. It was an unfamiliar feeling.
Digging your nails into your palms, you listened for movement on the other side of the door when you heard the door to the adjoining bath open and close, followed by the quiet padding of bare feet on the carpeted floor. Your breath snagged, thinking of turning away. You decided to do just that but then, the door suddenly opened, making you squeak in surprise, the sight of him dressed in just his navy pajama bottoms causing you to ogle his muscular chest and abdomen.
Well shit, you thought. He was beyond hot.
"Er..."
"What is it, Y/N?" he asked, sounding mostly tired than mad. He didn't look happy to see you, but at least he didn't slam the door to your face. Too much of a violation to his manners, you surmised, tempted to tease him, but you opted not to. You weren't in any position to be playing your little games.
You exhaled in batches before you finally found your voice. "I... n-need to talk to you. Can I...come in?"
He just looked at you for a moment before taking a step back and opening the door wider for you. He then turned his bare back to you as he walked over to the bed, the muscles on his sides and back flexing with each movement. He then motioned for you to sit on the chair situated quite far from him before he himself sat down, waiting for you to talk.
You didn't sit down and instead stood behind the chair, gripping its back. "Look, I'm sorry."
He ran his fingers through his damp, blond locks, looking like a model for an expensive underwear brand as he did so. "Hmm. Are you now?"
Your throat grew dry, wishing you could smack yourself right there and then for thinking of other things when you were supposed to be apologizing sincerely to him. You knew that he was trying to be sardonic but you couldn't help but think how mesmerizing he sounded. Composing yourself, you nodded. "I am. Suguru and I –"
"I don't wish to hear it, Y/N."
"It didn't mean anything!" you finally snapped, breathing heavily and not realizing you've crossed halfway towards him. You stopped, catching yourself just in time. "I just..." You sighed. "I just wanted to make you jealous."
“Well, what the hell, Y/N! You’ve succeeded.” His jaw clenched as he said the words, eyes intent on you and unrelenting. “And guess what, you’ve done more than just make me feel jealous. You made me feel guilty, too, because I can’t help but think that I pushed you to do that because of what I said to you this morning. Are you happy?”
“No…” You shook your head, your breath snagging. “I was being selfish. None of it is your fault so you don’t have to feel that way. You’ve been trying to talk to me all day, and maybe I should have given you the chance, but being me, I relied on my baser instincts and made a game out of things again.”
He stood this time, towering over you. "That's all you know. Games," he told you quietly, his tone at odds to his words. "You never really cared who gets played in the end as long as you're amused." He reached over and picked up a few strands of your hair before flicking them off his fingers in disdain. "Isn't that what it is?"
His words hurt. "No..."
"Unfortunately, I got caught up in it, all the while thinking that maybe you'll spare me because..." He shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I lost again. Congratulations."
"I'm sorry."
"Sure." He scoffed, shaking his head. "I'm tired, Y/N," he said as he sat down on the bed, burying his face into his hands.
This was it, you thought to yourself. You can't miss your chance. It was regardless of the consequences. You told yourself that. You were not going to back down even if it means you get hurt. Even if it means he would reject you.
Without thinking twice, you moved closer to him, settling on your knees directly in front of him just by his feet. You reached for his hands, gently easing them away from his face. You smiled at how big they were compared to yours, his palms rough against your fingertips. He let you pull them away, slowly moving of their own accord to cup your face, his dark, intense eyes searching yours.
"Y/N, I can't do this anymore."
You chuckled even as tears glistened in your eyes. You brushed his hair away from his forehead. "You read minds now?"
"I'm serious."
"Forgive me. I couldn't help it."
"What are you –"
Before he can finish what he wanted to say, you pushed yourself up on your foot and pressed your lips against his. You felt him stiffen against you, his hand tightening over the slope of your hips as you pushed him forward. You placed your left foot on the bed just beside his thigh while your hands took possession of his face, smiling into the kiss when he finally moved and reciprocated in kind. Your toes curled in anticipation.
He pulled you down, mouths enmeshed, breaths in sync, until you were leveled to him. He raised a hand, placing it on the side of your face, making you lean against its warmth. Your eyes flew open when he pulled away and pressed his lips against your forehead, lingering there before he kissed the tip of your nose, then your cheek just beside your mouth. Nanami closed his eyes as he leaned his forehead against yours, his hand soothingly rubbing at your bare thigh.
He was breathing deeply, brows furrowed together. Unable to help it, you started planting butterfly kisses where you could reach, capturing his lips again, hand gently caressing his jawline. Nanami twisted around, laying you on the mattress and hovering over you, continuing to kiss you. His scent had stuck to the sheets engulfing your senses and rendering everything nonexistent but him. You were lost in a world filled with nothing but him and the feel of his hands roaming all over your body in slow, sensuous movements as if he was blindly mapping out your every contour and curve.
"I don't think we should be doing this," he breathed out, chuckling quietly, but in the next moment, he sought entrance to your mouth, his hot tongue finding yours, stealing your breath. You held on tight to him, thinking he was overthinking things again, easing his mind by returning his ministrations in kind, and locking him in place with your arms wrapped around his nape. You moved your leg from underneath him, brushing your thigh between his legs, making his breath hitch when you applied the slightest of pressure, feeling him becoming stiff as you rocked your thigh back and forth against him.
Nanami drew back slightly, cutting the kiss. He opened his eyes, looking at you longingly, fingers tracing your shoulder. He looked at you with uncertainty as he fiddled with the lapels of your robe. "Tell me to stop."
At that, you smirked at him, your fingers also wandering up the expanse of his hard abdomen, slowly trailing fire up his chest to his collarbones. You bit your lip between your teeth as his skin seemed to grow warmer where you were touching him, the way he was unsteadily breathing adding to your thrill, beyond glad you had that effect on him.
"I don't want you to stop, Kento." You rose a fraction on your elbow and pecked him on the tip of his nose. "I want you."
He sighed then. “Y/N, if we’re going to do this, I want you to be certain.”
“Like a hundred percent certain?” you teased. “What’s the legal jargon for that? Do you want me to say, ‘Sustained,’ or ‘No objections, your honor’?” You giggled and he joined in, shaking his head. “Way to kill the mood though.”
“Sorry.” He flashed you a rueful smile.
Reaching out, you cupped the side of his face, eyeing him with as much conviction and certainty as you could. “You should know by now that I don’t do things I don’t exactly want to do. And when I say I want this – I want you – then that’s precisely what I want.”
He nodded slowly.
“You’re still overthinking.”
“I’m just thinking of what to say to Satoru –”
“You chose the wrong time to be talking too much.” You pulled him close, crashing your lips to his in reckless abandon. It was sloppy at best, but you hoped it would convey your certitude and confidence in what you were about to engage in with him. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted, Kento, I could cry just having you this close to me.”
Your words seemed to have unlocked something in him as his pupils dilated and his clear eyes clouded with want, and you couldn’t have been more glad that you decided to tell him how you honestly felt. Nanami lowered his head, claiming your lips with his in a slow, gentle kiss, his lips making love to yours in a seductive rhythm that spoke volumes of what he can’t typically express with mere words. The urgency in his kisses increased and you matched his fervor with yours, slightly rising off the bed to meet him halfway, taking as much as you could as he took from you – your breath, your heart, your soul.
As if a switch flipped, his gentle movements turned careless as he grabbed your shoulder and slid the robe off you, throwing it somewhere behind him, eyes alight with excitement as he further undressed you, pulling your matching nightie down, smirking when he discovered you weren’t wearing a bra underneath.
“You planned this,” he rasped.
You grinned smugly at him. “Maybe I did.”
“You’re beautiful,” he said, attacking your neck with open-mouthed kisses while his large hands took possession of your breasts, kneading them. You gasped when he caught one of your nipples, twisting it experimentally and watching your reaction when he latched his mouth onto the other, licking around it before giving it a particularly hard suck.
“Oh god,” you whimpered, eyes blowing wide when you heard the sound of your silks being ripped off of your body followed by a soft growl as he continued to devour your tender swells of flesh. His hands reached down, covetously taking your thighs, humming against your breast at the warmth and softness of your skin underneath the rough pads of his palms. He drew one hand upwards to the flimsy lingerie you were wearing, ripping it away wildly as well, making you gasp.
“Hey, don’t –”
Any protests you had died in your throat when he reached down the apex of your legs, his fingers immediately teasing your folds and rubbing gently. “Do you feel how wet you are, my love?” he rasped. “You want me this much?” When you didn’t answer, he prompted you by putting more pressure on the sensitive nub, making you buck off of the sheets with a squeaked out, “Yes.”
Your nether lips were slick with arousal and your clit started to become engorged as he touched you there, making you whine in pleasure as you carelessly threw your arms back on the mattress. He spread your legs wider, giving himself full access to your body while you lay there with hooded eyes, watching him have his way around you, his pupils dilated as he drank in every contour of your body.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, groaning in approval when you slightly arched your neck backwards, reveling in his touch. He started rubbing your clit in circles with just enough pressure to have you gripping on the sheets while his free hand took hold of your exposed breasts, kneading the supple flesh between his fingers. Nanami delighted in the way you looked writhing under his mercy, eyes hazy and mouth partly opened as you let out pleasured sounds, wishing to know how he can make you moan and tremble even more.
Nanami withdrew his hand from your chest and traced down the expanse of your belly until he reached your pelvis, securing you in place as he inserted his long digits into your throbbing cunt, going in and out. He chuckled softly at the sight of you taking his fingers in, the lewd sounds coming from your pooling juices as you clenched around him, spurring him on. He pressed down on your clit around and around, over and over again, circling around that sensitive part of you.
“Just like that,” you mewled, your hips lifting off the mattress to grind against his hand, meeting the friction he was creating and amplifying your desire.
He smirked as he hovered over you. “You just love this, don’t you?”
“Y-yeah,” you breathed out, feeling your first orgasm hitting you when he started erratically thrusting his fingers into you, the movement of his wrists quick while every thrust was accompanied by your snagged breaths.
Feeling himself getting harder and more titillated with the way your body tossed and turned beneath him, with his free hand, he shoved down his silk pajama bottoms, tossing it away along with his underwear, releasing his cock from its confines. He was, however, taken aback when you suddenly pushed yourself up, smirking at him as your eyes shifted between his dark orbs and his erection, thick, long and pulsating.
Without a warning, you pushed against him, your hands tight on his broad shoulders until his back was against the mattress. Having successfully turned tables on him, you straddled his lap and claimed his lips for your own, kissing him hard and unrelenting while your hands ran down his pecs, down to his hard abs, one of them racing faster than the other as you reached for his length, wrapping your fingers around it, its heat sending you on a wild rush.
“You’re so hot,” you droned absently, making him smile.
“You’re hotter when you’re trying to dominate me like this,” he responded, chuckling.
“Don’t I always though?” you teased, your grip on him tightening slightly while you ran your thumb over his tip, spreading his precum all over the pinkish head, making him quaver in delight. Whatever response he had in mind died right there and then when you lifted yourself up aligning yourself with him. You grabbed the base of his length, guiding him leisurely inside you, the slow pace driving you both on the edge. Your legs shook slightly as you slid down onto him, using his firm thighs to anchor yourself until you were fully sitting on him, his cock buried deep inside you.
“You feel so good,” he whispered, out of breath, feeling himself nestled in your warmth, fitting tight and snug as if you were made just for him. He sat up slightly, holding onto your hips as he slid out slowly, almost to the hilt, holding you up before very gently easing his way back inside, continuing with that slow pace, building a rhythm you both got used to. You held onto his shoulders, meeting every languid thrust halfway, establishing connection with every movement of your bodies.
“Ah…Kento…” you keen, as you both moved against each other, feeling every part of each other against yourselves, melding in a soft embrace as you rode him up and down. You both couldn’t get enough of each other, your nails digging on his back while his hands held your waist in a bruising grip. Your hips met each other in a steady rhythm, the sounds of your moans filling the room, mingling with skin slapping on skin and distinct squelching as you repeatedly swallowed his cock into your hole, making you crumple in rapture.
He reached up, placing a hand at your nape, making you lean closer to press his mouth onto yours, your tongues meeting in a duel, your whimpers drowned out by the action. He released your lips in favor of your neck, progressing downwards as he nipped on your flesh, all the way to your collarbones until he reached your breast, latching his mouth onto one of your nipples, making your toes curl as his ministrations brought about sensations that hyper-stimulated every one of your senses.
You luxuriated in everything that was him, the feel of his mouth on you, his length filling you up to the brim over and over again, in and out with every push, his smell, his warmth, the excitement leaping in his eyes while he focused on pleasuring you. You were caught in the midst of your love and fondness for everything that made up Nanami Kento, voicing it out by repeatedly saying, “I love you,” or broken parts of it anyway as if a prayer of fragmented pleas and exultation as he made you his.
He paused when he heard you say it, pulling away, his eyes wide as he gazed at you with his cloudy eyes suddenly becoming clearer while his vision focused on you. “Say that again,” he said.
“I love you,” you murmured, feeling your face grow warm at his unabashed scrutiny. Then again, “I love you,” with more conviction this time. “I’m madly in love with you, Kento.”
“You are?” he asked as if in disbelief, his mouth stretching into smile, eyes filling with joy when you nodded. And along with that, he felt himself growing even harder as if a silent affirmation to how he felt about you. “I love you, too.” He kissed you and laid you down on the bed. “So damn much.”
Nanami settled himself between your legs, placing them over his shoulders as he realigned himself with you, pushing in without preamble and pounding into you in a faster rhythm than earlier. He slid so easily inside of you as he pushed forward and pulled out again and again, the new position making your walls grip tighter around him while he fucked you deeper. He relished the way he was spreading you apart, mesmerized by the way you were connected.
“More,” you purred when you felt him hitting you right where you wanted him over and over again, making you see galaxies of stars as he rammed into you. “Right there.”
“Whatever you want, my love,” he panted, dipping himself even deeper. “You like that? You like how daddy fucks you?”
Your eyes shot open when he said that, knowing you were seeing a new facet of him you’ve never encountered before. But you were not able to dwell on that when you were prompted to respond with a rough, hard thrust, saying, “Yes, daddy. I do…so m-much,” when he pulled out all the way and shoved his dick back in, and in that same instant, you found yourself creaming around him. Your essence dripped down onto the sheets as he continued to thrust faster into you, his breath hitting your skin with the rhythm of his movements as he moaned your name, planting butterfly kisses on your neck.
“You’re so good,” he said as you clenched tighter around him. “Give me one more, baby.”
He hastened his pace even more, rising up with one of your legs hanging on his arm while his free hand reached down, playing with your clit, applying pressure and setting the tempo of his movements with his length which slid in and out of you unabatingly. Your moans were getting louder while your brain felt like it would turn to fizz as your heart pounded in your chest, holding onto the build of that familiar pooling of heat in your loins. In a sudden flurry of sensations, your body lifted clear off the bed as you came long and hard.
Nanami rode you through it, going even harder and rougher as groans started to spill out of his mouth, ending in a crescendo of your sensual cries and a dragged out moan from him as he came inside you, his white, hot seed coating your walls and overflowing out of you.
Closing your eyes, you tried to catch your breath, feeling a shiver run down your spine as you came down from your high. Everything felt detached and surreal as your mind started filling with thought after thought, dominated with nothing but the fact that he just made love to you, the idea not quite sinking in despite the panting, boneless mess that you are at that moment.
You gasped when you felt him pulling out of you before hovering over you to place a kiss on your forehead. You forced your eyes open to look at him, cracking into a crooked grin when you finally looked at him, his hands brushing away stray strands of hair from your sweat-matted forehead.
“I love you, Y/N,” he told you in hushed tones, while you were unable to do anything but nod weakly as your body succumbed to exhaustion.
**
He bet everything on Gojo’s wedding week. And it was all worth it.
The whole matter has not sunk in just yet, so much so that he didn’t get a wink’s sleep trying to make sense of it all, but mostly afraid that he will wake up in the morning and find that everything was just a dream. A very vivid, beyond pleasant dream. But the sun rose in the horizon, and as he lay there awake, he had his proof of everything that happened beside him, asleep and very much real, pressed against his side.
When you came to him the previous night, he was certain things between you would end. If he was being honest, he has had it with your playing. He didn’t know exactly what your aims were the previous night until you made the move. Again, if he was being honest, he was also being a coward, always the one at the end of the rope you were reaching for. He wanted to switch your positions for a change, but when he did, it felt like he was getting nowhere, just pulling the rope without anyone at the end.
He thought he had lost when you kissed Geto in front of him, didn’t know what to do with the information when you said you were doing it to make him jealous. And no matter how low you went just to get his attention or to retaliate to his lack of response to you the previous day, he couldn’t say he didn’t like that you did it, too. He didn’t like it per se, but your motivations behind it spoke volumes of how you felt. He was just too blind to see it.
You were right about certain things, one of them being the fact that he was supposed to know you and understand how you communicated. Another was the fact that it wasn’t too much for you to ask him to be selfish for his sake and yours. He had wanted to act exactly that way for a long time, and when you were giving him the chance, he walked away from it instead. And as per usual, you were the one who fought your way against him for the same aim of having him.
He sighed, shifting to his side to face your slumbering form. He felt his heart melting at the sight of you softly breathing and appearing so serene snuggled against him and wearing his shirt. He could almost laugh when you suddenly fell asleep on him right after he made love to you. He sighed, knowing you wouldn’t wake up any time soon after you closed your eyes, decided to clean you up and dress you up before settling beside you, too.
But out of everything, since the previous night, whenever he would remember you telling him you loved him, his heart just stops for a second only to resume its beating in irregular staccatos. You told him you could almost cry having him that close to you, but he was the one who felt like shedding tears about having you.
He bet his heart knowing there was a possibility that you would just toy with it and break it. In the end, he finally got everything he wanted in your person. He should have already known that in order to get to you, he has to go through everything, have his heart shattered if that’s what it would take. He wanted to peel all your protective layers, but you ended up doing that to him instead, and it was safe to say you succeeded. Still, although he felt like dying when he saw you kissing Geto, he wouldn’t have it any other way. He’d go through it all again if it meant he would get you in the end.
Nanami caressed your cheek with the back of his fingers, smiling when you scrunched your nose a bit, your brows furrowing slightly. Just then, your eyes opened, your ocean-blue irises devouring him in an instant in waves of emotions, the most dominant of them all being gratitude towards whatever higher power brought you to the world to exist and love him when you could have anybody else.
You broke into a sleepy grin the moment you saw him. “Good morning, daddy,” were the first words that came out of your mouth, teasing him the moment you woke up.
He felt heat suffuse his cheeks when you said that, flashing you a pained look. It hadn’t been embarrassing when he suddenly decided he had a daddy kink and wanted to hear you say it, but now that he has sobered up from the feel of you against him, he didn’t exactly want you to say it, not when you were mercilessly ragging him for it first thing in the morning. He didn’t detest it though.
Nanami diverted his gaze from you, his face turning red, but you abruptly rose slightly, grabbing both sides of his face to make him look at you.
“What are you getting all shy around me for?” you cooed. “Don’t you like it when I call you that?” You smirked. “Come to think of it, I was startled when you said that, too.”
“Are you making fun of me?” he said, pouting.
Your eyes rounded and you let go of him, even going to the extent of moving away from him.
“What?” he asked, suddenly panicked as he sat up, grabbing your arm, afraid you’ll walk away.
You clucked your tongue. “D-don’t do that…that p-pouting thing…” you spoke haltingly, unable to talk properly as you pinched the bridge of your nose, looking flustered.
“Do what?” he asked, not quite catching what you were saying.
“Don’t go acting cute so early in the morning. I’m not used to this side of you. Jesus, Kento,” you told him all in one go, your hands flailing about. “You’re messing with me.”
He arched a brow at you and started laughing heartily. You were genuinely distressed and he didn’t know what he would do with you. “I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t know you were not immune to my charms.” He pulled you towards him, making you face him. “How are you feeling by the way?”
“I’m fine.”
“Not sore anywhere?”
You rolled your eyes at him. “Fishing for compliments now?”
He shook his head slowly, not understanding what you were talking about. “I don’t think we’re on the same page.” He started fussing around you then, even lifting his shirt which you were wearing, slightly looking for telltale signs of the possibility that he could have hurt you in any way when he spotted bruises on your hips. “Oh no.”
“Why?” you asked, blinking cluelessly when you saw what he was looking at. To your surprise, he suddenly took you in his arms, his expressions indicating distress. “What’s going on?”
“I hurt you,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry.”
It was your turn to laugh. “You obliterated me, Kento, but I’m not sorry about it.” You pulled away from him and pecked him on the lips. “You were awesome.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“I should go easy on you. I don’t really like the idea of injuring you in any way.”
You narrowed your eyes on him. “You’ve set the bar on how good you can be between the sheets. If you hold back on me, I’ll throttle you. Maybe I’ll ask Satoru for help, too.”
“What –”
“You’ve been warned, Nanamin.” You leaned forward, planting your face on his chest. “Stop worrying. I don’t regret anything, and if you make love to me as well as you did last night every single day, I’ll gladly have my battle scars.”
Nanami cupped your head, rubbing soothingly, his eyes meeting yours while a slight smile played at the corners of his mouth. “You’re so weird sometimes.”
“You love me.”
He kissed the top of your head. “I do. With all that I am.”
“Stop getting into a tizzy then.”
“Okay, Y/N.”
“Okay, Kento.”
“Are you always going to call me by my name now?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. “I like it better than when you call me Nanamin.”
Your brows knit together then. “I’ve kinda gotten fond of that nickname though. But if that’s what you want, I’m down for it, too.” You grinned at him. “Kento.”
Nanami broke into a smile, but then you said, “Can I always call you 'daddy' instead?” He rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance. “I’ll throttle you.”
You chuckled. “My mother would flip!”
“Satoru would flip.”
You laughed, wrapping your arms around him. The two of you stayed that way for a few moments, just enjoying the comfortable silence while you listened to his heartbeat and basked in his warmth, his muscular arms wrapped around you securely. You’ve never felt safer.
You were, however, the first to break it.
“Kento?” you began.
“Yes, my love?”
“What are we now?”
“You’re all mine and I’m yours,” he stated firmly.
“So we’re official?”
He scoffed. “If last night wasn’t enough to make us official, I’d be happy to prove it further to you. You’re the woman I’ll marry. I’m not giving you a choice on that.”
You snickered. “Fine.”
“Fine?” he repeated with inflection, pushing you down on the mattress while he hovered over you. “Why do you sound as if you don’t like it?”
You burst into bubbles of laughter. “I’m not complaining…”
“But?”
“If that’s the case, I want Satoru to know first before the others. Is that okay?”
He nodded. “That’s just fair, I think.”
“Thank you.”
“Anything for you. When do you want us to tell him?”
You held his hand, entwining your fingers together and beaming tenderly at the way yours were engulfed by his. “Soon. Very soon.”
-end of part 7-
Aaaaand we're down to the second to the last chapter. This one's rather self-indulgent and I got carried away with the the "daddy" thing lol. Anyway, I would like to say thank you to everyone who's been reading this fic and looking forward to my updates. You guys make me happy!
*I used “you” here, but since my character is Gojo’s little sister who is established to be his female clone for reasons essential to the plot, she possesses the same blue eyes and white hair. I did not exactly want to create an OC (although technically, I did by describing Y/N), but I opted for the best of both worlds in this fic, leaning more towards the literary aspect of it as opposed to it just being reader/you-oriented. I hope this isn’t iffy to anyone, and yeah, i’m not being exclusive or whatever.
Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.
© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI'S “JUJUTSU KAISEN.” [20210806]
PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.
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min-sugar-7 · 4 years ago
Text
DAY 1: “You’re such an idiot.”“But you love me”
Camelot was peaceful. The skies were blue with plenty of clouds for shade, creating the perfect picture of peace. Rivers flowed plenty, harvests prospered. Gaius’s chambers were relatively empty, other than the occasional births. 
The Knights invited Merlin along on their tavern conquests because there weren’t any attacks and training was pretty laid back.
Arthur had not insulted him for two days. He had not told him to muck out the stables. Nor had he thrown anything at him.
Merlin narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Something was wrong. Either that or something was about to go horribly pear-shaped. Maybe Arthur was under another enchantment. 
Now that was a matter of grave concern. Merlin narrowed his eyes further. 
“You look like you’re trying to burn that squire with your glare, Merlin,” said a voice. The owner of said voice snatched the water skin from his hands. Merlin looked, and yes, he was accidentally glaring at a poor squire. “How has he offended you?”
“Nothing, my lord. Just thinking ‘bout you,” Merlin mumbled. Arthur raised an eyebrow, tossing the water skin back to him. 
“Think of me often?” Arthur smirked, and Merlin just wanted to swat him. 
“Yeah,” Merlin rolled his eyes and grinned. “Thinking of ways to poison you so that training would end faster.”
Merlin stole a glance at his waterskin, making Arthur freeze. “You wouldn’t.”
Merlin shrugged and looked away, enjoying the unsettling peace of Camelot. Arthur huffed, and Merlin could practically hear his eye roll. Anytime now, Arthur would drag Merlin down the training field and use him as a training dummy. He will.
“Well, I guess I’d just have to accept my fate,” Arthur let out a long-suffering sigh. He would start whacking Merlin with a metal stick anytime about now. "Try not to poison any other Knights. Morgana would have your head if anything happened to Leon.”
With that, Arthur walked away. Merlin stared at him with disbelief. Arthur was being nice. And genuinely funny. Arthur is neither nice nor funny. Arthur is a mean bully who likes to torment Merlin. 
There could only be one explanation. 
Merlin’s Arthur has been kidnapped, and this one is a doppelgänger.
Apparently, no one else in Camelot shared Merlin’s suspicions. It turns out that Arthur is “Perfectly fine, and in good health,” according to Gaius. “Strong as ever,” according to Leon. “Still a princess,” according to Gwaine. “As he always is,” according to Gwen. “Still a perfect assassination target,” according to Morgana. 
On top of that, Arthur’s been listening to whatever Merlin says. Merlin’s Arthur never listens to him. Never. 
When he told Arthur not to step into the fairy circle, he listened. Usually, Arthur would say, “don’t be ridiculous, Merlin,” and step into a fairy circle. Merlin had to push Arthur away to avoid conflicts. When he told Arthur to cancel a hunt because it was about to rain, he did. Usually, Arthur would roll his eyes and go hunting anyway, shivering and freezing under the cold downpour. 
There could only be one other explanation. 
Arthur knows about his magic and is leading Merlin into a false sense of security. 
Merlin refrained from using any type of magic in the past two days. He will not risk it. 
And then Merlin’s worst nightmare came true. Arthur told him to pack his bags and wait by the stables. Arthur was going to banish him for his magic. At least he had some time to say goodbye to Gaius, who did not share Merlin’s concerns. 
“Gaius, he’s going to banish me! Could you stop laughing?” 
No such luck. Gaius continued chuckling, murmuring something under his breath, before pushing Merlin out of his chambers. 
Merlin gulped nervously, taking small, slow steps to delay the inevitable. Maybe if he concentrated hard enough, the ground would open up and swallow him. At least his ghost could continue protecting Arthur. 
Soon, though, he was standing in front of the stables, watching Arthur whisper to his favorite horse. He had his back turned and provided his undivided attention to Llamrei. He looked absolutely stupid whispering and smiling and running his hand through her mane. Merlin loved him.
Okay, well, perhaps, not too much since he’s about to banish Merlin. But Arthur doesn’t look like he is about to exile somebody. He usually has a brooding air around him and refuses to smile for hours. 
Arthur turned back, letting out an undignified squeak as he saw Merlin. Merlin would never let it go. He will lord it over Arthur for the rest of his life. Or at least, the rest of the time Merlin’s allowed to stay in Camelot. 
“Merlin,” Arthur nodded, clearing his throat. 
“Arthur,” Merlin responded, not knowing what else to say.
“Yes, um, let’s go,” Arthur declared and promptly led Llamrei out of the stables.
Merlin stared in confusion. Arthur, as if sensing his confusion, rolled his eyes, and grabbed Merlin’s pack from him, saddling it to Merlin’s favorite horse, Clove. 
“What do you have in here? Rocks?” Arthur asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he mounted his horse, staring expectantly at Merlin to do the same. Merlin shot a glare at Arthur and mounted Clove. Of course, his bag was heavy. His everything’s in there.
What Merlin did not understand was why Arthur’s riding with him. For the whole trip, Arthur looked skittish, throwing glances back at Merlin. He noticed that Arthur’s hand occasionally drifted towards his left hip, where Excalibur and his coin pouch rested.
Oh. Oh.
Arthur was not going to banish Merlin. Arthur was going to kill Merlin and make it look like an accident. Oh shit, shit, shit.
Arthur suddenly raised an arm, stopping at a clearing. Merlin tried hard not to flinch. Arthur unmounted his horse and took out his pack, wait, why does Arthur have a bag? 
Arthur caught him staring, and said, “What?”
Merlin, whose sanity was hanging on by its fingernails, immediately got off and started apologizing. 
“Arthur, I am so sorry-”
“What the hell are you apologizing for?” Arthur said, turning back, giving Merlin his signature 'what-the-hell-Merlin' look. 
That would be right about the time Merlin noticed the picnic blanket and basket in the middle of the clearing. Arthur followed Merlin’s gaze and immediately went red all over. 
Merlin connected the dots; albeit a bit slowly. Arthur dragged Merlin away from the castle, told him to pack his bags, and brought him on a picnic. So Merlin was not about to be killed. Spectacular. 
“We’re out on a picnic,” Merlin stated.
“Excellent observation, Merlin. Now it would be great if you’d come and sit with me.” Arthur stepped closer, presumably to grab Merlin’s pack. Merlin immediately grabbed it, to avoid further embarrassment. Oh God, if Arthur knew he packed all his belongings… 
“Ehem. Yes. Of course. Let’s go.”
Merlin almost stumbled forward but made it to the picnic blanket relatively unharmed. Now, what was he supposed to do?
“Well, um, people would usually sit down at this point,” Arthur said, clearing his throat. Merlin nodded and collapsed down, wincing a bit when he hit the floor a bit too hard. Arthur was trying not to laugh.
“Not a word,” Merlin mumbled, which of course, made Arthur laugh. After that, things were a bit less awkward, as they shared some rather delicious pastries and talked about nonsense. Merlin made sure to keep his bag out of Arthur’s view. 
“What do you keep in that bag anyway?” Of course, Arthur had to ask that. 
“Nothing,” Merlin totally did not squeak. Arthur narrowed his eyes, looking straight through Merlin’s rather stupid lie. “Stuff.”
“It is a bit too heavy, don’t you think?” Arthur grabbed his bag, which Merlin yanked closer to his chest. Arthur just had to take that as a challenge, crowding closer to Merlin’s space. 
Merlin tried his best, alright? But without magic, Arthur was faster, and he somehow ended straddling Merlin and holding the bag out of Merlin’s reach. Merlin huffed and collapsed back because there was no pacifying the prat when he’s up for a challenge.
Merlin covered his eyes with his forearm, deciding that if he can’t see Arthur, then Arthur can’t see him. 
“Why the hell do you have all your clothes?” 
If he can’t see Arthur, Arthur can’t see him. If he can’t see Arthur, Arthur can’t-
“Are you blushing, Merlin?” Arthur teased, and Merlin could practically see his smug grin. 
“Shut up,” Merlin mumbled, suddenly turning them over so that he was on top and in possession of his bag. His victory didn’t last long, however, because Arthur immediately flipped them. 
Oh no. Merlin will not think of how Arthur looked stunning with the sun shining in the back of his hair, creating a halo around him. He will not think about how Arthur’s eyes practically matched the sky. He will not-
Well, Merlin couldn’t think after that, because Arthur pressed his lips against his. Woah, hold on, how did that happen? Not that Merlin was complaining. It was rather brilliant. Arthur’s lips tasted sweet like the pastries they ate, and Merlin could spend hours like this. 
There was only one drawback to this. Merlin’s magic soared under his skin, thrumming constantly as if enjoying the kiss just as much as Merlin did. He could hold on for a few more seconds, but he doesn’t want Arthur to know, but he doesn’t want to break the kiss either-
Arthur suddenly broke the kiss, prepping a few butterfly kisses and making a trail to his ear, nibbling on the skin there.
“Breathe, Merlin,” he whispered before going back to teasing his ear. It was then that Merlin realized that he was holding his breath along with his magic but couldn’t let go of either. Arthur then pulled back, stopping everything.
Merlin immediately missed it but could finally think without his magic going haywire. He still was too afraid to open his eyes, just in case his eyes decided to go gold. A hand came up to caress his cheek, sending tingles in its wake. 
“Shh… Open them,” Arthur whispered, his voice suddenly close to his ear. There’s no way he could mean what Merlin thinks he means. No way. Merlin kept them glued shut. “I mean it.” The hand now traveled up to his cheekbones, tracing the outline of his eyes.
Merlin did, a bit slowly at first. It could all very well be an elaborate plan to get him to confess his true identity, but Merlin didn’t know how to fight it. He didn’t want to fight it.
Arthur took a sharp intake of breath, no doubt noticing the gold of his eyes. He didn’t do anything, just stared. Merlin held his breath again, too afraid to move. 
A few moments passed, and Merlin feared he’d accidentally frozen time. But then Arthur rushed forward to capture his lips again, and all coherent thoughts left him. He was too startled to notice that he’d let go of his magic, instead, focusing on the feel of Arthur’s lips against his. 
“You’re beautiful,” Arthur mumbled against his lips before diving back for another kiss. It took a few seconds for Merlin to understand. Wait Arthur knows about his magic. Arthur is kissing him. Merlin is still miraculously alive. Arthur’s tongue is swiping against his lips. Arthur hasn’t run Merlin through with his sword. Merlin’s tongue is in Arthur’s mouth. Arthur knows about his magic. Arthur isn’t killing him.
Merlin promptly broke the kiss, gasping against Arthur’s lips. 
“Wait- you aren’t mad?” Merlin’s thoughts were a jumble of “Arthur knows, Arthur knows, Arthur knows-”
“Why would I be mad?” Arthur looked absolutely amazing with his cheeks flushed and lip red from kissing. From kissing him, his mind supplied. For a second, Merlin forgot what they were talking about, but then remembered. 
“I’ve lied, and you think magic is evil-” Merlin searched Arthur's face for any signs of disgust, anger, or hatred but found none. 
Arthur chuckled at that, turning his head away. “How could it be evil, when it does this?” Merlin followed Arthur’s gaze and saw exactly what he was talking about. The clearing that was formerly filled with grass now had little flowers surrounding the two. Merlin felt his cheeks heat up at that because the flowers were Carnations, and Merlin totally didn’t mean anything by it. Blame it all on Merlin’s magic.
Arthur placed one last final kiss at the corner of his mouth before plopping himself beside Merlin. Arthur curled himself around Merlin, sneaking a hand through his waist and pulling him close. Merlin went willingly. 
“You never told me why your bag’s full of useless stuff,” Arthur said after some time. Merlin mourned the loss of peaceful, happy silence. He was hoping that he’d forgotten about that.
Merlin ducked his head so that Arthur couldn’t see his face. He cuddled up against Arthur’s chest, letting his heartbeat calm him a bit.
“I thought you were going to banish me or something,” Merlin mumbled. 
“What was that?” 
“I thought you were going to banish me,” Merlin repeated, this time really hoping that the ground would swallow him up.
There was a beat of silence before Arthur barked out, “What?”
“Well, um, you were being nice to me, and generally not being a prat for like two days and that’s not normal Arthur behavior,” Merlin quickly rushed to explain. “And then I thought that you found out about my magic and you’re trying to lead me into a false sense of security, and then you asked me to pack my bags and come to the stable so I thought that you were going to banish me.
“But then you tagged along, and I thought you were going to murder me or something out here, and then I saw the picnic blankets and got so confused.” Merlin should probably shut up now before he makes an even bigger fool of himself.
“That’s what you thought this date was about?” Arthur asked. Merlin could feel him shaking, his words vibrating through his chest. 
“This was a date?” Merlin asked, in genuine surprise, because the kiss was a total spur-of-the-moment thing, right?
Arthur stayed silent for a second before bursting out in laughter. Merlin whipped his head up and saw, that yes, Arthur was completely amused. Merlin finally got a legitimate reason to swat his chest, which only made him laugh harder. 
Fine, Merlin might be an over-thinker. But it is an acquired skill after staying in Camelot for so long. You have got to think outside the box if you wish to be on the same level as the countless assassins thirsting after Pendragon blood.
“Merlin, you are such an idiot,” Arthur howled, his laughter coming to a slow end. He stared at Merlin with such fondness that Merlin had to look away, so Arthur could not notice his blush.
“Shut up. You love me.” Woah, from where did that come? Dammit. 
“Yeah, I do.” Was he hearing things now? Merlin whipped his head up for the second time, his eyes meeting an equally dumbstruck Arthur. No matter what Merlin did, he could not stop the onslaught of a stupid grin creeping over his face. 
Merlin leaned forward for a peck, which dissolved into a kiss and then into a make-out session. When they parted, Merlin rested his forehead against Arthur’s, basking in the glow of pure, utter happiness.
Arthur shifted beneath him, making Merlin open his eyes. He opened his coin purse and pulled out a piece of red fabric, looking suspiciously like cashmere. Oh, so Arthur wasn’t trying to reach for his sword… 
“Here, for you,” Arthur said and held it up for Merlin. Merlin touched it, and yes, it was a cashmere neckerchief. Merlin gaped a bit because cashmere is worth more than Merlin’s annual salary and then some.
“Arthur-”
“Just, take it-” Arthur reached behind to untie the knot of Merlin’s current neckerchief. He grabbed the soft fabric from Merlin and tied it around Merlin's neck. It felt like absolute heaven- he’s never worn something so soft “-Suits you.”
Merlin noticed the little blush that spread across Arthur’s nose and cheeks, and couldn’t help but smile. He was lying on top of Arthur, so it was easy to lean forward and press a kiss on Arthur’s nose. Arthur turned a darker shade of red. 
“I love you too, dollophead,” Merlin mumbled against Arthur’s lips before diving in for another kiss. Merlin felt Arthur smile against his lips and had no problem returning one. They were honestly acting like a cheesy old married couple, but Merlin wouldn’t have it any other way.
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nervousladytraveler · 4 years ago
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@veryflowerobservation asked me for a little story with a very specific plot line. While I doubt this is what they had in mind (apologies in advance) this is what came to me over my morning coffee. Also, I’ve been reading Life After Life by Kate Atkinson, and am indebted to her for the world (and tone) of that novel that I borrowed here.
---
She was already seated at a table in a quiet back corner when Ross entered the restaurant. A sandwich sat in front of her--untouched. How long had she been waiting? Ross hadn’t been late. In fact he was rather pleased with his timing.
He’d only just found her note a mere half hour before he was to meet her. He’d almost missed it--a small piece of folded paper deposited on his desk and no one claimed to have seen the messenger.
Dear Mr. Poldark, it read. Please meet me, if you can, noon today. The Drake. Important item to be discussed. Yours, Miss D. Carne. The ink had smeared a bit revealing an impatient or untidy author.
He remembered Miss Carne. Often, if he were to be honest. He smiled at the physical feelings associated with the memory and was on his feet shuffling for his coat before he’d thought it all through. After a late breakfast, he wasn’t hungry yet his curiosity was piqued by such a veiled message. Then again cryptic was the nature of their business, he supposed.
Ross hadn’t wanted the job but was cajoled, battered--railroaded really. But his gallantry in the previous war and in his off-the-record jaunts in between, not to mention his Good Family (“So many Poldarks already in the high ranks, you know”) were all tallied up. If Ross was trying to slip away from duty unnoticed, it seemed he was his own worst enemy. And if he had a choice, he’d have preferred to return to the army, but his ankle still bore shrapnel from ‘17 and apparently he wasn’t needed in that capacity.
“We need trustworthy men inside, Poldark,” some smart Undersecretary and an older but oh so reputable Colonel had huffed. They nodded in agreement with one another, and without waiting for an answer, had begun making plans for Ross in an unmarked office at the end of a serpentine hall in That Building.
The last thing Ross wanted was to be trusted with someone else’s secrets and yet, there he was--working for the War Time Government, which he soon learned was a very different machine than the one they’d elected in times of peace, the one everyone thought they knew. And once he saw the ways the gears really moved, Ross was certain most would prefer not to know much about this one at all.
Miss Carne, the author of the note and the guardian of the untouched sandwich, was one of the girls in the unmarked office. The department that didn’t really exist on paper needed scores of young women to keep it running.
She was different from the other girls. Not just a typist but clever--she was always solving problems, often before they were discovered, and saving the men who didn’t really exist on paper from very real embarrassment.
Ross hadn’t many dealings with her. Well, not until that one night when he got to know her quite well.
It had been a Thursday and there had been cocktails out--what had been the occasion? War had already been declared so it was quite unusual to have held a work do. Why was she even there?
He remembered the dress she wore--blue satin--and the way it fit her. Like a glove. No, more like water in a stream rippling smoothly over immovable stones. It made him feel at ease to look at her and he knew how the night would end.
In the all the secretarial pools across the city, few girls had their clothes tailored--who had time or money? So when they ventured out after work, they sported those subtle signs of economy--gaping necklines or tight stretches across the middle. Their one good dress hadn’t been replaced in so many years but their bodies had changed with the war. Rationing had left them scrawny or cheap gin had left them bloated.
Oh but those girls tried, didn’t they? They carried on the best they could. With their lips so brightly made up they could violate the black out, they were hell bent on keeping up the spirits of the lads. Wartime made for an interesting and furtive nightlife. Of course the nice girls, the ones with breeding and good dress makers weren’t out much at all these days.
But this one, Miss Carne, with her red hair--real, not from a bottle--and a fitted dress the colour of the sea at twilight, was different. Demelza was her name. It sounded like some yet-undiscovered gem. Rare as hell and essential to keep out of enemy hands. She didn’t seem to belong in either world--not the world of well dressed would-be fiancees nor the seedy boîtes, that were filled after hours when the good girls were tucked up in their bunkers.
The hotel Ross had taken Demelza to after they’d left the party was nice enough. Not the Savoy but it had a toilet ensuite and the sheets were clean. She was not Ross’s first affair so he knew how to be discreet when signing the register. He needn’t have bothered--the concierge clearly hadn't cared.
He remembered the sound of that blue dress as he unfastened it down the back. A crisp zip in an otherwise quiet room. That and her breathing and his heart beating in his chest. The sounds of anticipation. Before the dress slipped from her shoulders and his hands clasped her naked body to him.
Today she wore a stiff woolen frock the colour of filing cabinets. It reminded him of a wall of sandbags, protecting a hidden softness beneath. Still the zipper would sound the same.
“Miss Carne,” he smiled and held out his hand to her. He contemplated kissing hers when it was finally offered but sensing some unspoken chill, he refrained. He sat down opposite and gave his serviette a merry snap.
She twisted her lips when she spied the gold band on his left hand.
“You're married?” she began, raising one perfect brow. Was it naturally arched or was that her own artistry?
He might have wanted to scrutinize her face, to map out what was artifice and what was real, but at that moment he didn’t dare look her in the eye.
“Yes, I am,” he said, just a decibel louder than a mumble. “And yes, I was married when we…” He took a gulp from his water glass.
“And yet there was no ring that night,” she mused. She had no problem with eye contact, her blue eyes remained fixed on his face.
“We...uh...we were in the midst of a separation then but the war has made us rethink things…”
We. Us. There wasn’t really an us. Elizabeth was merely feeling scared and lonely, between lovers, and suddenly liking the idea of a strong husband about. But since then her plans to retreat home to Cornwall, first spoken of as a ‘hypothetical perhaps’, had started to come to fruition. She’d been packing a trunk for some days now and was fretting about whether to take just some of her furs, or all of them. She was clearly planning to stay away. Ross’s response was to arrange a driver.
“Well then,” Demelza said and pushed away her plate. “That will complicate things but doesn’t change reality one bit,” she continued crisply.
It was an office voice. With it she would manage the girls under her with confidence and efficiency. No time for emotion, yet it wasn’t sour. Must keep morale up. They had jobs to do and every memo taken, every letter filed, was a fulfillment of their duty.
It was not the soft, easy voice that laughed in his ear as she lay next to him on the pillow in the blacked out room. The dusky voice that had whispered his name as he crawled up her body like a soldier crawling through mud. On a mission. Towards his target.
“It seems, Mr. Poldark, that I’m to have a baby.”
He held his glass aloft and stared at her.
“What?” he spat. “Well, it can’t be...I didn’t…not in...” Of course he couldn’t utter those words in daylight. Not over a sandwich at lunchtime. One needed a stiff drink before dissecting the mechanics of love. Yet somehow he knew it was possible. He thought he’d been careful not to leave seed in the field. Now it hit him he’d in fact laid a land mine.
“Well it doesn’t really matter what you believe you did not do, because apparently whatever you did, was enough,” she responded coolly.
He didn’t dare ask if there were any others who might stand accused with him in the dock. His gut told him she wasn’t that type. And though she hadn’t confirmed it during their night together--nor had he looked for evidence later--he suspected she’d been intact before he took her to bed. Oh, she’d been a quick learner!
He also sensed that she’d rather be sitting across from just about anyone else than talking to him now, so she certainly wasn’t trying to trap him.
“Are...are you sure? I...I need to think,” he said, aware that he sounded like an old Spitfire whose propeller couldn’t quite get going. So much sputtering.
She lit a cigarette, took one long drag, then ground it out carefully in the ashtray. No doubt she’d revisit that same fag again later, at a time when she was less impatient, when she could enjoy it alone.
“Well, you do that then,” she said, and gathered her handbag, ready to take her leave.
“Wait! Where are you going? How can I reach you?” His words came out in a fast and frantic stream. The engine had started--the sputter became a steady buzz filling the room.
She narrowed her eyes and shook her head lightly. Today her hair was held back with tortoise shell combs on either side. Tidy, discreet, and appropriate for an unmarked office. Or any office.
He recalled his hands getting lost in a sea of those curls, fistfuls he’d grasped in passion. An unexpected lifeline, it had seemed at the time, that prevented him from drowning.
He felt himself going under again.
“Now you want to reach me, Mr. Poldark?” she said archly.
“Hey--you left me! You were the one who waltzed out of that hotel room while I was asleep, without so much as a backwards glance,” he growled. He’d been rankled that she continued to call him Mister Poldark, especially when he could still hear her hiss in his ear--Ross--while her body bucked under his.
“I assure you it wasn’t a waltz,” she said. And that was all she said. At least she didn’t claim she’d been trying to save him the embarrassment of a morning after. “I share a flat with another girl in Kingley Street. We don't have a telephone but you can find me at the office--unless I get reassigned in the next few days. There are changes coming, I’ve been told.”
She rose to her feet and towering over him, nodded.
Ross tried to stand up quickly--to plead with her to stay? To follow her out? He couldn't say what his intentions had been but it mattered little. He was too slow. His legs got twisted under the narrow table, his chair scraped awkwardly, and the remaining lunch things began to tip before he caught them with his broad hands. He narrowly avoided one mess, aware that he had quite another still to be cleared up.
And just like that she was gone. Leaving her entire sandwich and almost-intact cigarette behind afterall.
In a strange flash, Ross was surprised she didn't offer to pay for her own lunch. Of course a gentleman should pick up the bill for a lady no matter the circumstances, but there was something so determined and iron about her now, that he couldn’t imagine her allowing anyone to help her.
And yet help her he must. Somehow.
He felt his pockets frantically for a scrap of paper but only found a stub of a pencil.
Kingley Street, he scrawled on the back of a matchbook. He had no house number, nothing else to go.
Could he ask someone to watch the street? He knew some blokes who would do a job like that--a stake out--for the right price. Or was he better off handling this himself, intercepting her at work? Even if she did get moved to a different sector--one that also did not officially exist--he might have channels to find her.
He sat back in his chair and reached for her cigarette. He imagined it smelled like her but he lit it anyway. It helped him to relax for just a moment while he planned his next move.
Ross knew he had a duty to this woman--to their child if one was to be--and while that was an overwhelming and unforeseen realisation, he was taken aback by a different unexpected sensation.
Desire.
He wanted her. Again. Now.
And he had to find her.
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justthehiddleswrites · 4 years ago
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Unexpected Delivery | Tom Hiddleston x Reader
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Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader
Summary:  You are 37 weeks pregnant when Tom books a vacation to a secluded cabin in the mountains of Scotland. You are assured you won't go into labor while gone but after an intimate moment with Tom, your water breaks. You are snowed in and the ambulance won't get there in time. Tom must now deliver the baby.
Warnings: implied smut, labor and giving birth
-
“Honey, we could have just stayed at a nice posh hotel in London,” you grumbled as you attempted to get out of the car, “You know in civilization.”
Tom hustled around to help you out. At 37 weeks pregnant, you weren’t as spry as normal.
“Come on, darling. Where is your sense of adventure?” He threw you one of his lady killer smiles.
“Being sat on by your child along with my bladder, that’s were. I swear she is all limbs just like her father.”
Tom chuckled and helped you across the short path and up the stairs to the cabin. He leaned over so his head was next to your swollen stomach.
“Listen in there, be nice to your mother. She is working hard to keep you safe. And she has had to do it without your dad.”
This trip had been all Tom’s idea. For most of the pregnancy, Tom had been away filming in Thailand. This was not the first time Tom had been away for big events. Your sister’s wedding. Graduations and important work events. But having to attend ultrasounds and midwife appointments on your own hit you hard. Pregnancy hormones only made it worse. You spent many nights crying into the phone to Tom and him reassuring you everything was fine and he would be there when it mattered.
It had been near Christmas when shooting finally wrapped. Tom had insisted on a baby moon before your due date. By then flying was off the table, so you two needed to pick somewhere within driving distance. You had suggested a posh hotel in London with a spa where you could be pampered. Tom, afraid of paparazzi, invading this precious time, chose a secluded cabin in Scotland.
“Are you sure we won’t get stuck up here?” you worried as a light dusting of snow started to cover the landscape. The doctor assured both of you at the last visit this baby wasn’t coming for at least two weeks, with your family’s history of overdue babies. But it did not make you worry any less. The nearest hospital was over an hour away. You did not want to have this baby in the mountains.
Tom kissed your forehead as he opened the front door.
“I checked the forecast, and only light snow. You have nothing to fear.”
You gave a weak smile, not convinced as you looked back and saw the snow beginning to cover the car.
About an hour later, Tom got a fire burning and a kettle going on the stove. The cabin was cozy. You shed your layers as you got inside. You were your own portable space heater these days. Tom brought over hot chocolate for you and hot tea for himself as the two of you settled underneath a thick quilt on the couch. You let out a sigh.
“It is cozy.”
“I’m glad you enjoy it. It’s not enough to make up for these past nine months, but now that filming is over, I intend to focus all my attention on you and this precious cargo.”
Tom rubbed his hand over your belly. You smiled and then winced as your stomach tightened.
“What’s wrong, darling?”
You rubbed the back of Tom’s hand.
“Just Braxton Hicks. They have getting worse over the last few weeks.”
Tom moved his hands to your shoulders and began to massage your tight shoulders. You let your head sink to your chest.
“That feels fantastic.”
Tom continued to work on the knots and move his hands to your back, kneading the space between your shoulder blades. You let a groan out.
“Darling, if you kept making such obscene noises, I will not be able to keep my hands to myself.”
Tom’s hands wandered to the front of your shirt, where he cupped your ample breasts. You let a chuckle go.
“Isn’t that what got us in this mess in the first place?”
Tom laughed as he turned you to take you into a deep embrace. His lips were soft but urgent. Both of your hands flew to his neck and hair, pulling him closer and deeper. God, you had missed him! Tom lowered you to the couch with a gentle hand, placing you on your side. However, you sat up and grabbed Tom’s arm.
“What?” he questioned as you tugged on him to follow.
“Honey, I am too big to have sex with you on a sofa. I saw a nice, big, and cozy king sized bed. Let’s do this right.”
Tom’s face lit up, and he grabbed both of your hands and dragged you to the bedroom. He had missed you as well! And his libido felt it too! The two of you didn’t even bother to shut the door before getting down to business.
***
After your lovemaking, the two of you fell asleep. You woke first and headed to the kitchen. The Braxton Hicks continued, and you winced with each contraction. Grabbing a coffee mug, you doubled over in pain, the mug crashing to the floor shattering.
“Tom!”
Your husband ran at the tone of your voice. He was panting as he found you on the floor. It was only then you noticed the wetness between your legs.
“Tom! My water broke. This baby is coming!” you panicked.
Tom’s eyes widened as he ran his hands through his hair. Still groggy from his slumber, he was trying to process everything happening. Shirtless, he rushed to the front door to start the car. The bitter cold hit his skin like needles and it dismayed him to see several feet of snow buried the car. There was no way he could dig it out in time!
“Tom!” you screamed as the contractions became more painful. “What is going on?”
“We’re snowed in!”
“WHAT?!”
“I’m sorry, darling. I will call an ambulance.” Tom replied, a shake in his voice.
By some miracle, he had reception. He dialed emergency and explained the situation. He gave them the address of the cabin. They told him to stay on the line until the paramedics could get there. Tom ran over to where you still lying on the ground. He helped you up to the armchair in the living area. You started to scream.
“Tom, I don’t think the baby can wait for an ambulance. She is ready to make her appearance sooner rather than later.”
You began to breathe like you learned in your birthing classes. Tom started yelling at the person on the phone in a panic.
“What do I do?!”
Tom listened intently to the voice on the line with a stern look on his face, nodding along with the instructions. He put the phone down and began to gather supplies: towels and blankets. He put the kettle on the stove and began boiling some water.
“Done. Now what?”
The color drained from Tom’s face as the operator told him the next step. He gulped and headed towards you.
He grabbed your hand and kissed the back of it. Sweat beaded across your forehead and the pain kept you from saying too much. Another contraction hit and you screamed.
“AAAHHHH!” you squeezed Tom’s hand hard and his knees buckled for a moment.
As the contraction subsided, Tom attempted to extract his hand from your grip but you just held on tighter. He placed his other hand on top of yours.
“I have to check your progress,” you looked at him in disbelief as you released his hand, “But not to worry, I’m a doctor.”
“That was for a movie, you idiot! I don’t want Dr. Laing to deliver this baby.”
His joke fell flat, and he refrained telling anymore for the rest of your labor. He pulled up your skirt and checked on your dilation. When his face came back into view, he looked ashen. He picked up the phone.
“The baby is crowning.”
You panicked.
“What?!” You felt a new sensation, “Tom! I want to push!”
Tom threw the phone down and returned to you.
“Not yet darling. No jokes. You are having this baby now. I will coach you through it. But you have to wait until I tell you push.”
You nodded your head. Tom placed a towel underneath your legs and grabbed some blankets to put beside him. You felt a contraction coming.
“All right, Y/N, Push!!”
You bore down and grunted.
“Three… Four…. doing great… Eight… Nine…”
At ten, you relaxed.
“Doing wonderfully,” Tom reassured as he massaged your knee. You felt another contraction coming on, “Here we go again. Push!”
You began to push again. Tom continued to encourage you. This continued for about three contractions. Tom looked up at you.
“All right, love. This last one should do it. I need to you push as hard as you can. You know you are tired, but you.. can.. do.. this.”
He looked up with his blue eyes filled with tears, pleading you to be strong for not just him but for your daughter you were about to meet. You nodded your head as you felt the contraction begin.
“PUSH!”
You pushed with all your might and before long you felt a release and moments later, you heard the cries of a baby. Tom worked to wrap the baby and placed her on your chest. The tears pricking his eyes.
“You did it! She is here. Meet our daughter.”
You started crying as you stared down at the tiny being you just gave birth to.
“She’s perfect,” you whispered as you kissed Tom softly on the lips.
“Just like her mother.” Tom beamed, “And I believe her name is going be…”
“Evelyn Rose.”
Tom seemed shocked.
“I thought you didn’t like the name Evelyn.”
“I changed my mind. Pregnant woman’s prerogative.”
Tom chuckled.
“Very well. Little Miss Evelyn Rose Hiddleston, welcome to the world.”
The two of you cooed over the baby until the paramedics showed up about twenty minutes later. They rushed to take care of you and the baby as they shuffled Tom to the perimeter. They transported all three of you to the hospital. Once you settled into a room, Tom joined you. You smiled at him.
“Hey.”
“Hey. This has been some day.”
You smiled.
“Now come on, where is your sense of adventure?”
Tom laughed.
“On the floor of that cabin when I delivered my daughter.”
“Oh, but think of the story.”
Tom winced. The papers would have a field day.
“True, but I was worried about you and Little Miss Evelyn here.”
He pointed to bassinet beside your bed where your child was sleeping for the moment.
“Well next time, let me pick where we stay and I will forgive you.”
The two of you laughed and Tom climbed into your bed to embrace you. Just as he settled Evelyn stirred and began to cry.
“Welcome to parenthood,” you said to Tom as you handed him a bottle, “Dad.”
Tom couldn’t argue that.
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cuddlepilefics · 4 years ago
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Balloon party
Fandom: Stray Kids, 3racha
Sickie: Jisung
Caregivers: 2basco (Chan, Changbin)
 Jisung’s POV.:
It had been a while since we’ve last been on a game show, so the entire group was hyped for our afternoon schedule. Those shows were usually the most fun to participate in, so not even the grueling dance practice this morning could dampen my mood. I was really looking forward to a fun afternoon, using this thought to keep me going, ignoring the burning in my muscles. “Alright, we’re done with practice for today. Let’s head back to the dorm. Make sure you shower quickly, so everyone gets a chance to freshen up before we need to leave again”, Chan announced and I dropped down next to my bag. My sweaty back against the wall, I pulled out my water bottle, chugging the small amount of water that was still left. We didn’t really get a chance to rest very long before Chan dragged us back home to ensure we wouldn’t be late. I was starting to get more hyped up, the more time passed. While waiting for my turn to shower, I wanted to help Channie-hyung make lunch but apparently, he didn’t trust me to be of much help, so he sent me away. I passed the time playing games on my phone, hearing the leader chuckle: “He’s already bouncing off the walls now, what am I going to do with him after the show?” A small giggle escaped my lips. I wasn’t sure who my hyung was talking about, it was either me or Felix, the younger Aussie seemed to be just as excited as me.
Lunch was filled with lighthearted chatter and I noticed that everyone had missed going on game shows. They were a welcome change from all those serious interviews and way less tense than most public appearances, so it’s not too hard to see why we liked having them in our schedules. We finished our meal and cleaned the dishes. Before heading out, I grabbed a chocolate bar as dessert which I devoured on the way to the car. I startled a bit when I heard a loud voice behind me: “Yah! Who gave the squirrel chocolate? You know what sugar does to him.” Afraid my dessert would be taken away from me, I stuffed the last few bites into my mouth and turned around to give Changbin an innocent smile, with my cheeks still puffed up. “Sung, you know how energetic you get when you eat candy. Who gave you that?”, my hyung frowned. I swallowed and giggled a bit: “I gave it to myself. You know, Jisung is a big boy. Don’t worry, the fans love my energetic self.” – “Yeah, maybe the fans do but what about giving your hyungs a hard time?”, Changbin argued. I looked at him innocently, pretending not to know what he was talking about, and asked: “You mean like that?” Then I started to chase him in circles around the rest of the group, who just rolled their eyes at me.
We made it to the car and I collapsed into my seat still panting from our little chase. Changbin plopped into the seat in front of me, turning around to give me a death glare. Probably a warning to not sneak my hand forward to tickle his side. Did I care? Nope, I didn’t. Instead I continued to bother my hyung for the rest of the ride. At some point, even Chan turned around to warn me and I felt a bit sorry for not being able to keep my overflowing energy under control. I managed to pull myself together right as the car came to a halt. From now on I need to be professional, I reminded myself, as we went in to get our hair and makeup done. It wasn’t that hard to do, since the effects of my earlier snack were slowly tapering off. Especially the hyung-line kept watching me warily, expecting a prank from me at any time now. They weren’t wrong but I refrained from doing anything, instead just looking forward to the games we were going to play soon.
The first few games were really fun and I was truly enjoying myself. Until the third game of the afternoon was announced. We were supposed to pair up and dance with a balloon stuck between our bodies. The team whose balloon dropped or popped last wins the game. I cringed and barely had the time to mentally prepare myself before the staff brought in a bunch of balloons, a lot more than we’d need for the game, probably for aesthetic reasons. I didn’t care about those reasons, my eyes going wide at the sight of the colorful party decoration. Balloons, I had always despised them. The colors were always way to bright and unnatural, they felt weirdly squishy and made those awful squeaking noises when you touched them wrong. Worst of all, they were like a ticking timebomb, ready to explode at any given moment. I couldn’t touch them. ‘No! Not going to happen.’ They even said the balloon would probably explode between us while we dance. My hands started to shake and I shoved them into my pockets, so nobody would notice. Of course, we had some time to fool around before the actual game started but unlike earlier, I didn’t join my friends. I tried to stay as far away from the dangerous balls, squinting my eyes at them as a warning. ‘Don’t you dare explode on me!’
Hyunjin chased after Jeongin, waving a bright orange balloon in the air. He dragged his hand over the rubber material, triggering a shrill squeak. I flinched as a shiver ran down my back and I pleaded in my head for them to please be careful and not accidentally pop the balloon. Changbin must have seen my face because he suddenly appeared next to me, a pink balloon in his hand. Smirking, he dragged his fingers over it and I jumped at the sound. I was starting to flush hot and cold and my hands were sweating. “What? You don’t like that sound?”, the older asked innocently, “Guess what, I don’t like being tickled either.” – “H-Hyung, please don’t do this”, I pleaded, backing away. He gave a fake-confused look, dragging his finger over the rubber again and asking: “You mean this?” I nodded, backing away further as my shaking hands went up to cover my ears. Changbin only laughed and I thought I heard something along the lines of ‘too bad, this is your payback’, but I wasn’t sure because it was muffled by my hands. He held the pink bomb closer to me and instead of covering my ears, I shielded my face with my arms. He couldn’t see the tears stinging in my eyes as he went to produce that awful sound again. Except this time, it was different. The last thing I remembered was a loud ‘BOOM!’ before everything went black.
 Changbin’s POV.:
I was just getting Jisung back for being an annoying squirrel on the way here. It was funny, he really seemed to hate the noise and I was certainly using that to tease him. Apparently, I had gripped it too tightly because the next thing I knew was the balloon popping in my hands. There was barely a second for me to get over the shock myself before a movement caught my eye. I cursed, jumping forward to secure my arms around Jisung’s waist to keep him from hitting the ground. Carefully, I lowered his to lay down on the floor and tapped his squishy cheek. No reaction. I shook his shoulder and called out his name, catching the attention of the remaining members. “What happened?”, Chan frowned crouching down next to us. I was starting to freak out and I cursed my voice for wavering when I replied: “I-I don’t know? The b-balloon popped and suddenly he was out.” A staff member joined us and felt my dongsaeng’s pulse, announcing that it was strong and fast. “Why don’t you take him back to the dressing room. There’s a couch you can put him on”, she asked and I immediately scooped the younger up. I couldn’t help but feel like this was all my fault.
I placed Jisung on the couch and studied his face. Chan put a comforting hand on my shoulder and it was only then that I noticed I was crying. He took Jisung’s wrist again and checked his pulse. It was still strong but beating steadily at an only slightly too fast pace. The rest of our group was asked to stay out of the room to give Jisung some space and I could only imagine how worried they must be, not being able to see him. I took Jisung’s limp hand in mine and cringed at how sweaty his palm was, was he scared? I gave it a gentle squeeze, mumbling ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again, till I felt his hand twitch in mine. Suddenly, the younger shot up and pulled his hand away, scaring me. His eyes darted around the room and he looked so small and so stressed. His breathing quickened and I patted his arm to catch his attention. “Hey, you’re okay, Sungie. You’re okay. Look at me!”, I said and he turned to face me. There were tears streaming down his puffy cheeks and I was almost thrown off balance when Jisung crashed into my chest, sobbing loudly. Taken aback, I wrapped my arms around him and stood up, pulling the shaking boy with me. I sat down on the couch, keeping the younger in my lap as he cried into my shoulder. Chan returned with some water and sat down next to us. “Hey Sung, can you tell us what happened?”, he asked carefully. The younger only continued to cry and I sighed: “It was the balloon, wasn’t it?” Jisung nodded against my shoulder, trying to pull himself together.
We waited in silence for our dongsaeng to calm down, so he could explain more to us and so I could apologize. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this guilty in my life but it didn’t seem like Jisung was mad at me, if he was, he’d be clinging to Chan and not me. Jisung’s cries quietened to soft sniffles and he looked up at us with swollen eyes, admitting: “I-I’ve always had that fear, I don’t think it’s bad enough to be called a phobia, -“ – “You passed out! I’m pretty sure it is bad enough to be called that”, I interrupted. “I don’t like balloons. I don’t like anything about them, not their color, not the way they feel or the sounds they make and even less the fact that they can explode at you any second. I’m pretty sure balloons are made by Satan to eliminate us”, Jisung rambled and I couldn’t help to feel even worse. How scared he must have been when I cornered him like that. My arms tightened around him and I buried my face in his hair mumbling ‘I’m sorry’. Jisung gave a weak smile and patted my head, whispering: “It’s okay, hyung. You didn’t know and you deserved to pay me back.”
“Talking about knowing. Why did you never tell us?”, Chan question his forehead creased. Jisung shrugged, blushing a bit, and replied: “One, it’s quite embarrassing and two, we do have a few pranksters in this group, so I guess I was afraid of the teasing and having that information used against me.” I nodded, it made sense but I could promise him: “Seeing how bad it is, none of us would ever dare using this against you, Sung.” Yes, we could tease each other endlessly but we knew our limits and wouldn’t harm any of our friends. He nodded and smiled when the rest of the group joined us. Not having heard our conversation earlier, Seungmin brought one of the balloons with him. I felt Jisung tense in my arms and was quick to ask Seungmin to take the balloon out of the room. He didn’t understand why and pouted a bit because he had planned to take it home with him but he sensed the seriousness in my voice and complied. Jisung hugged me closer and whispered a quiet ‘thank you’ in my ear. I squeezed his shoulder in reply. He didn’t have to tell the others about his situation right now and I totally understood if he’d rather explain it to the at home. Our manager came in and announced that we could go home now. “Why don’t you guys go first? I’m going to take Jisung for some cheesecake on the way home”, I asked, wanting to make it up to my dongsaeng. A wide smile spread on the younger’s face and he giggled: “You’re giving me sugar, hyung?” My eyes met Chan’s in horror. “Channie-hyung, help! What have I done?”, I panicked. He just laughed at me: “Nope, you brought that on yourself. I’m taking the others back to the dorm. Have fun!”
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inkwell1013 · 4 years ago
Text
Hungering for Friendship - Merlin
Pairing: Merlin & Arthur (platonic), Merlin & various knights (also platonic).
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort.
Word count: 1.8k
Warnings: This fic includes a character struggling with food related trauma and includes mentions of death (specifically death by starvation), though it is not graphic and more passingly mentioned.
Summary: Merlin is used to having his food stolen from him. When Arthur takes some food from him, in a misguided attempt at kinship, he accidentally brings back some bad memories for his servant.
- - - - - 
There were seven bad harvests in a row when Merlin was young, one after the other. Food was scarce and Merlin’s parents could barely scrape together enough to feed themselves, let alone their son.
Merlin was one of the lucky ones. Even when people were dropping dead from hunger on the streets outside, he lived a relatively cushy lifestyle and was accustomed to eating somewhat regularly. It was hardly ever a complete meal, but who ate a complete meal in such trying times? Certainly not him. Certainly not his family.
It was enough. Not much, but enough.
He had it better that the children who were dying of hunger, his stepfather would remind him. Better than the homeless and the orphans and the runaways.
Merlin’s stepfather was a shrewd man, the kind inclined to speak his mind without thought of the consequences of his words, nor indeed any feeling it might bring another person; if he had strong feelings about something, you’d be sure to know about it. He wasn’t one for sugar-coated words and euphemisms, so when he told Merlin he was lucky because he wasn’t starving to death, Merlin believed him.
Sometimes, when he misbehaved, his stepfather would take away his plate and scold him, saying “You can have this back when you learn to your lesson.”
Invariably, the food would disappear, leaving Merlin with nothing but a growling feeling in his stomach.
He learnt quickly – he always was a perceptive boy – that doing something wrong meant you would lose the privilege of food. It meant that you would go hungry. Even when he left Ealdor for Camelot, that fearful belief lingered in his mind and refused to be shaken.
This fear reminded him that he had to be careful what he said or did around Gaius and Arthur because – at the end of the day – they were the ones who decided if he ate. As his masters, they had the power over him that his stepfather had.
Still, they never exercised that power, as Merlin never gave them the opportunity. He stayed on his best behaviour (or as close to that as he could) and in return, he had never lost those precious privileges.
There were times when he thought he would, times when he pissed off Gaius with his reckless behaviour or irritated Arthur with his snarky attitude, but neither of them had ever done anything about it, which was strange. Even so, he remained hypervigilant. He couldn’t let those things happen to him again.
He had just settled down for lunch with Gaius when Arthur barged into the room. “Come with me Merlin. You will be eating with me and my knights today,” he announced.
“But I don’t want to,” said Merlin.
“You don’t get a choice,” countered Arthur, beckoning Merlin towards the door. “You are my servant, and I’m ordering you to eat with us today. Now come with me.”
Merlin cast a desperate look to Gaius, who shrugged. There was nothing he could do about it. Sighing, Merlin rose to his feet and followed Arthur down the corridor.
This whole ordeal had unsettled Merlin. He was meant to eat with Gaius today. He always ate with Gaius.
Meals with his mentor were quiet, somewhat formal events. Gaius wasn’t much for conversation, especially not a meal times, so Merlin refrained from talking too much, not wanting to bother him. Despite all that, Merlin liked eating dinner with Gaius, because he was predictable.
Gaius was as regular as the sun’s rising and setting - he went through the exact same motions every day, at precisely the same time. Having such a routine comforted Merlin, and having it disrupted by Arthur pissed him off beyond measure. Who was Arthur to barge into their chambers and demand that Merlin ate with him and his knights?
‘He’s the heir to the throne, that’s who. Of course he gets to boss you around, the privileged asshole.’
Arthur guided Merlin into the mess hall. In the centre of the room was a rickety old table, which currently housed five rowdy knights. Arthur grabbed Merlin by the shoulders and deposited him on the bench, right between Gwaine and Percival.
Hot food was slammed down in front of him – some bread and meat of some kind – along with a pitcher of ale.
“You’re giving me ale?” said Merlin. Back in Ealdor, this stuff was a luxury; it was not the kind of thing people like him drank.
“Why not?” shrugged Leon. “Heaven knows we drink enough of the stuff. You might as well get in on the action.”
“We don’t drink that much booze,” grumbled Gwaine, crossing his arms like a petulant child.
“Says the man who gets black out drunk at the tavern every chance he gets,” smirked Merlin. “You don’t exactly hide it well, the way you stumble home every night.” The group erupted into a chorus of rowdy laughter, and Percival clapped Merlin on the shoulder, making Merlin jump a little.
“That was a good one Merlin,” laughed Arthur. There was something hidden underneath his cheery expression, though Merlin didn’t know what it was.
The conversation shifted to another topic - some play the knights were thinking of seeing - when Arthur, still nodding along with the conversation, reached over and swiped a piece of bread from Merlin’s plate. Arthur didn’t even look at him as he did it.
Merlin’s anxiety spiked. He glanced around the table, looking to see if any of the other knights had noticed, but none of them seemed to care.
Had he done something wrong? Was it something he said? Why was Arthur doing this to him?
Swallowing his worry, he did his best to pay attention to the conversation that was going on around him. Even so, he found himself getting distracted. Arthur kept eyeing him out the corner of his eye, and even though he probably thought he was being subtle, he really wasn’t. It all made Merlin feel even more anxious. He hoped it was all just a fluke and Arthur wouldn’t do it again.
“What do you think Merlin?” asked Lancelot.
“Huh?”
“Head in the clouds again?” jested Percival. “You’re such a daydreamer.”
“Oh, piss off,” said Merlin, taking a sip of his ale. It tasted bitter and he resisted the urge to scrunch up his face in disgust. How did people stomach this vile crap? “What were you saying?” he asked.
“Are you free later this week,” repeated Lancelot. “We could all go to see that play together. Make a day out of it.”
“I don’t know,” replied Merlin. “I’m pretty busy. I have my job and everything.”
“Eh, I’m sure Arthur will give you the day off.”
The group expectantly looked at Arthur, who shrugged. “I don’t see why not,” he said, taking a swig of his beer, and chewing on chicken bone, rather like a dog. The conversation drifted again, and much to Merlin’s dismay, a hand reached over once more, swiping a piece of meat from his plate.
It was Arthur. At least now Merlin knew the first time wasn’t a fluke. This was deliberate. Arthur was trying to punish him, but for what? All he had done was talk.
Talk.
Was that it? Did Arthur want him to be quiet?
But he had invited Merlin here to eat with his friends. He had practically dragged him here, kicking and screaming, and now he was trying to force him into silence? Why? What purpose could that serve?
He could feel Arthur’s eyes on him, staring. Merlin opened his mouth to respond to something Gwaine said, and saw that same hand reaching into his peripheral vision, this time taking another roll of bread.
Fine.
Arthur wanted him to be silent.
He’d be silent.
He’d behave and this would all stop.
Right?
Thankfully, after that, Arthur didn’t make any move to steal from him again, and Merlin was able to scoff down the meagre remains of his meal in peace.
The rest of the meal had a sour tone to it, and both Merlin and Arthur were in dour moods. The other knights, noticing the tension between the two, excused themselves and left the room. Soon, only Merlin and Arthur were left.
There was a silence. A long, empty, depressing silence.
“What did I do wrong,” blurted Merlin, at the exact moment the same words left Arthur’s lips.
Both stared at each other in bewilderment. “What are you talking about Merlin?” asked Arthur.
“You kept taking my food from me, and I don’t know why. What am I doing wrong? Do you not want me to speak at all? I will if that’s what you want. I just want all this to stop.”
“I wasn’t… I don’t understand. I was just trying to make you feel welcome,” said Arthur.
“By stealing from me?” snapped Merlin, anger finally bursting out of him.
“By sharing a meal with you!” exclaimed Arthur. “Do you not share meals in Ealdor?”
“Not like this.”
“Look, Merlin, I don’t know what it’s like in your hometown, but in Camelot sharing a meal is normal. The other knights and me always eat off each other’s plates. It’s just a kinship thing. What’s mine is yours, you know?”
“Then why were you staring at me the whole time like I’d done something wrong?”
“I was looking to see if you would do the same thing in return. I’m sorry Merlin. I truly didn’t know that this was a trigger for you.”
“It’s not a trigger,” barked Merlin. “It just brings back bad memories.”
“That’s the definition of a trigger dumbass.”
“Shut up.”
Arthur rolled his eyes, collecting up the plates from the table. Then, he disappeared into the kitchen and reappeared moments later, having exchanged them for a plate of food. There was enough on there to make up for what Arthur taken, and then some. Grabbing Merlin by the shoulders, he sat him down at the table and set the dish in front of him.
“Here,” he said. “This is all yours. I promise I won’t take any of it.”
Merlin stared at Arthur, still worried that he might take it all away. Noticing his apprehension, Arthur pushed the plate closer to him. “It’s yours Merlin. I’m not having my servant go hungry.”
Merlin barely stopped to breathe as he wolfed it all down.
The next time Arthur demanded Merlin come to dinner (or invited him, as Arthur would so eloquently put it), Merlin couldn’t help but notice that Arthur and the knights kept their hands to themselves. He was secretly pleased, but said nothing, not wanting to give Arthur the satisfaction of knowing he had done something right for once in his life.
Across the table, Arthur smirked.
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walkingdaryls · 4 years ago
Text
no sunburns
pairing: loki x female!reader
requested: nope!
summary: you and loki spend time together in tony’s beach house during the team’s vacation
—btw, i don’t usually like making giving reader a specific description (so it’s relatable to everyone) but for the sake of this storyline, she’s pale. i’m sorry if this is an inconvenience to anyone :( love u
(obviously: a bit AU. just for funsies...also why does it look like he’s saying “how much do u weigh” in the gif LMAO)
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You could tell it was late into the morning by the way the bright sun shined on your face through the large windows. Usually, you’d groan and flip to the other side of the bed and try to dive back into sweet, sweet slumber. But you suddenly remember this wasn’t the Avengers Tower. For the past couple days you’d been on a blissful beach in Hawaii with the rest of the team. Tony was kind enough to offer all of you to stay in his huge beach house, on a completely private beach with a lively city just a ten minute drive away. When people said “paradise”, this is what they meant.
You eagerly stretched, letting a sigh of relief escape from your mouth. As you walked out of your room and into the main area of the house for some coffee, you were suddenly put off by the silence in the house. The only thing that could be heard were the waves crashing outside and birds chirping happily. The past couple mornings would be extremely loud and obnoxious due to the team all eagerly trying to eat breakfast, get their things together, and head to the beach bright and early. And it’d usually end with everyone yelling at Tony for being the last one to get dressed.
“Um, last time I checked: my house. I may get dressed whenever I damn please,” he’d said one day.
The day before, Bucky had accidentally snapped one of the paddle boards in half, causing ruckus throughout the house. That’s what woke you up at 7am.
That was your only issue about this vacation: waking up early. You were known as the “sleepyhead” on the team...always staying up too late and waking up before lunch (on the days you could, obviously). It was planned for everyone to be on the beach early in the morning so the rest of the day could be for having a nice barbecue on the back porch, visiting the town, and then going out at night. If it weren’t for Nat coming to wake you up right after she did, you’d be the last one out the door every morning. Except for today.
You glanced at the vintage clock on the wall.
10:50 am. Your eyebrows furrowed. Was everyone sleeping in today? You didn’t remember Nat coming to wake you up or anything. Weird. You brushed it off, continuing to make your coffee.
“Well, look who finally decided to wake up,” a voice sounded from the living room. You jumped, sighing of relief once you saw the familiar face standing meters away.
Loki wore his usual slight smirk on his face. He was wearing an oversized, dark green button-up shirt with black beach shorts underneath. It was so quite amusing to see Loki dressed in anything other than his usual black suit or his green uniform. Thor practically dragged him on this trip, so the past few days he just wore a sour expression on his face.
“Yep...” You sighed, not knowing exactly how to have a conversation with the man, “Want some coffee?”
“No, thank you. Already had some hours ago. You know, when everyone else woke up.”
You furrowed your eyebrows, “Wait, where is everyone else? Nat didn’t wake me up.”
Loki walked closer to the kitchen, his hands behind his back all mannerly, “She tried. Twice. You wouldn’t budge. Steve thought it’d be fair to just let you get your sleep for one night.”
“Oh...” You sipped your coffee, “So they all left already?”
“Yes. Probably will not come back for another few hours,” He said simply. You felt quite upset knowing you were missing out, but at the same, a full night’s sleep was nice. Besides, you still had nearly two weeks left of vacation.
“You didn’t want to go with them?” During the three days in Hawaii so far, Loki only joined you and the team twice. One time at the beach, which he only lasted twenty minutes before going back inside to read a book. And the second time, when you all went shopping at a flea market nearby. He joined your meals at the house, obviously, but he didn’t really go out. It upset you. Others might’ve still hated his guts, but you didn’t, and he deserved to enjoy the time off.
“No.”
“Loki, I know you don’t wanna be here, but at least use the free time to your advantage. Once the two weeks are over, it’ll be back to work. Who knows when we’ll get another long vacation, right?”
“You mortals are so obsessed with this so-called vacation. You do realize you could enjoy ‘free time’ whenever you please, right?” He stared at you intensely, and you didn’t like it one bit.
“That’s not really how it works,” You breathed out, “Vacations like this: where I have absolutely zero worries...extremely rare. I’m putting it to good use.”
He chuckled sarcastically, “By sleeping away half of the day?”
You stood there with your eyes narrowed, wanting to slap his amused grin off his face. You and Loki never personally had any issues with each other, but he did get on your goddamn nerves sometimes. It was always sarcastic remarks when sitting across each other from the dinner table. Or smirks from across the gym during training. You’d consider each other friends....but, really odd friends.
“Just for today,” You spit back, “And FYI, I’ll be putting the rest of my day to good use. Until the others get back.”
“How so?”
You gestured to the large glass windows showing off the gorgeous beach just meters away. Loki raised his eyebrows in amusement, humming a quick “ah”.
“You wanna come, too?” You said without even thinking it.
For just a flash of a second, the look in his eyes became just a bit softer. He truly was not used to the feeling of being wanted or included in something. But you barely even noticed before his usual demeanor returned.
“I hate the beach.”
You shrugged, “I hated it too, actually. For a longgg time. But Nat slowly started dragging me out during vacations. To pools, too. I eventually started enjoying it. I just hate how badly I burn.”
“Burn?”
“Yes,” You absentmindedly pulled down your soft t-shirt down off your shoulder, exposing the cherry-red burns covering your skin, “See?”
Loki slowly stepped forwards, almost mesmerized. He was practically towering over you. This made you gulp, suddenly extremely aware of how close he was to you. You could feel the coldness of his skin radiating off of him, even without touch. His hand was slightly raised, as if he wanted to lightly touch your shoulder, but he refrained. You secretly wanted his icy hands to add that relief to your burns, but you kept silent as well.
“Does it hurt?” He asked, stepping back once again. You responded quickly, covering your shoulder once again.
“Yes, to be honest. But I’ve grown used to it. One of the downsides of being pale.”
“But I don’t burn. And I’ve been told I look like a ghost?”
You snorted, remembering Clint’s comment at the dinner table one night.
“Well, you’re a God, remember? I think mortals have different rules with that kinda stuff.”
Loki nodded, “How boring.”
You sighed, “Tell me about it.”
The room fell silent, so you awkwardly sipped your coffee once more before speaking up.
“I’m going to go put on my swimsuit. So...no beach for you?” You sort of wanted some company, if you were being honest.
Loki shook his head, “I’ll just go back to my book.”
“Alright then,” you nodded before scurrying back to your room and finishing your coffee.
You let out a large breath once you shut the door in your room. You didn’t know what it was exactly, but Loki always made you nervous. And it wasn’t in a bad way, more of an...intimidating way. It didn’t help that he was obviously handsome, too.
Tying up your bikini, you carefully observed yourself in the mirror. You looked great. The green, leather bikini had been a gift from Wanda a few months back. You had yet to use it, so why not? You winced at your burns on your shoulders once more before heading out the door with your sunscreen and towel in your hands. And of course, your signature cat-eye sunglasses on your face.
Making your way through the living room, you suddenly became extremely aware of Loki’s presence on the couch, and his gaze following you. But you didn’t dare look back. It was a rush of relief once you passed the glass doors and set aside your things.
The day was absolutely gorgeous. The sun was shining, but nothing too strong. There was a gentle breeze, and you felt blissful. You even danced around by yourself to the speaker playing next to you, partially forgetting about Loki sitting just meters away inside.
You prepared to skip over into the clear waters when you remembered. Sunscreen, ugh. You could just see the look of disappointment on Steve’s face if he found out you forgot sunscreen and only made your burns worse. The entire team had been in shock upon seeing how badly you burned in just a couple days, but Steve was the most worried. Always, constantly reminding you to put sunscreen. Especially on your back...since that spot was easily missed.
So there you stood, with music blasting on the beach, rubbing the cream all around your body. You made sure you wouldn’t miss an inch of your body. You were sick of the burns, of the itching, of the potential peeling. You made sure to double up on the sunscreen when you got to your shoulders. And your cheeks on your face...you got easily red there too.
But when it got to your back, you looked like an idiot trying to reach back there. Usually you’d have Nat or Wanda to help you right away, but you were alone.
Well, almost alone.
You didn’t dare look back inside, scared of seeing Loki watch you struggle. The temptation to ask him for help was extreme, but it was too embarrassing. You thought about maybe just hoping for the best and getting in the beach like this, but it was too risky. No more sunburns.
You tried to reach your back once more time before you realized it was an impossible task. So, very hesitantly, you turned to look inside the house. And just as you expected, Loki’s eyes were on you. His book had been thrown aside, and he was leaning over to get a good look at you. He held his usual smirk, obviously enjoying watching you struggle.
“A little help, please?” You called out. You felt so childish. But to be honest, you were a bit surprised when Loki got up with no protesting. Just an amused eye roll.
Your leg bounced a bit in anticipation as the raven-haired God made his way down the couple steps and over to you.
“Yes?” He asked. You knew he was teasing, and you hated it.
Your eyes narrowed, “I can’t reach my back. Could- Could you please?” He eyed the bottle you held out to him.
He inhaled sharply, “I guess so.” His cold hands grabbed the sunscreen from yours. But you didn’t flinch when you felt his icy fingers brush past yours.
You turned around, facing the beach and away from him. The snap of the opened cap could be heard. He squeezed the sunscreen into his hands before rubbing them together a few times, and gently placing them on your back.
The feeling of cool skin on your burnt back was pure bliss. You didn’t give him any reaction, but your eyes did close with pure relief. His hands were hesitant, but he began rubbing the cream around your back.
“Your hands are cold. It’s nice,” You say first. His hands stop for a split second before returning to their job.
He noticed you never flinched, “They don’t bother you?” His voice was soft.
“No, I’ve always liked the cold.”
It was that sentence- the simplest comment - that had Loki almost freezing in his spot. But he remained calm. And surprisingly, so did you.
Oh fuck, did I just accidentally flirt with the God of Mischief? You wanted to cower away. You silently thanked the skies for not facing him in that very moment.
“Oh?” Was all he said. His hand movements had slowed just a bit.
You blurted out, “Actually...god this is really weird, but could you just- could you place your hands on my shoulders? Like, just leave them there? Cold compress helps burns.” And now you were extremely thankful you couldn’t see his face.
“Okay.”
You couldn’t help but exhale loudly upon the feeling of his coolness on your skin. It was just what you needed. You two stood in silence for just a few seconds longer before you gently tapped his hands, signaling it was enough. You finally turned to face him.
“Thank you,” You smiled shyly.
“Do the burns feel better?” His face remained neutral.
You nodded, “Much better.”
He gazed at you for a few seconds before snapping out of it.
“Well,” You spike up, “I’m gonna get in now.”
“Right,” He nodded. You nodded back, not sure on what to say. As you turned around to the beach, you suddenly stopped in your tracks. You didn’t want to leave the conversation off like that.
“Loki, can you please just get in?”
His amused expression returned, “Pardon?”
“I- I don’t like getting in the water by myself. The beach is fun with other people. Otherwise I’m just the idiot floating around like a fish.”
“A fish?” He snorted. You chuckled, digging your toes in the sand nervously. He caught that. He could sense your nervousness, which only softened him more.
How could he say no? You were the only person who’d ever offered him something so genuine.
He rolled his eyes, “Well, fine. Only because everyone else is gone.”
You smiled brightly, “Yay! Come on.” You jogged towards the shore without a second thought. The smile only grew once you were ankle deep in the cool waters. You turned around, finding Loki in the same spot as before, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. You couldn’t help but stare...He was so focused on his buttons, so it wouldn’t hurt, right?
Clint had been right. Loki was truly pale. Very pale. Even more than you. Yet his chest still glowed like the God he was. His skin was as soft as ever. You wondered for a second what it’d be like to run your hands-
“You mortals do love to stare a lot,” Loki said, making his way towards you. You simply smirked, looking away to mask the redness growing on your cheeks.
He hesitated once his feet reached the water. But you stood there, already knee deep, watching him patiently.
“It’s so therapeutic, I promise. Come on,” You beckoned him over. His face seemed so confused, you almost laughed.
Slowly yet surely, he finally stood right next to you. You looked up to him, eyes scrunched from your smile and the sun in your eyes. He stared you down, but he wasn’t holding the intense glare anymore. It was definitely much more peaceful. He was pretty like this.
“See?” You smiled wider, splashing him lightly.
He stood completely still for a hot second, before suddenly splashing you with as much water his strength could muster.
You gasped, “LOKI!” And you found yourself splashing him back.
And he splashed you again.
You screamed, going deeper into the water. He followed you, continuing his splashing. You tried to splash back, but it got to the point where you were so deep into the water, you had to focus on keeping yourself afloat rather than splashing Loki.
“Oh, fuck, I don’t reach here anymore. Time out, time out!” You barked a laugh, struggling with floating due to so much movement.
Loki’s genuine laughter was music to your ears. You’d never heard him release such a noise before.
His splashing stopped as he made his way over to you and gently scooped you up with one arm. It took you completely by surprise. You watched the God with wide, curious eyes.
Once balanced against him, and no longer struggling with floating, you splashed him once more, completely drenching his hair this time. He shut his eyes, promptly letting go of you in order to wipe his eyes.
You laughed loudly, swimming away closer to shore.
“You think you’re so clever,” Loki called out, hot on your tail. Your heartbeat accelerated as you felt him get closer to you.
You weren’t able to reach the shore before you felt Loki’s hand grab your foot and drag you back. You screamed, not able to contain the giggles pouring out of you.
Loki watched you with a smile on his face as you laughed with your eyes closed. You held your hands up to your face.
“Please don’t splash me, I’m begging you,” you yelled. You tried to get away, but he was quick.
His hands gripped your waist, pulling you in once again.
“Last time I checked, you splashed me first,” Loki said, his voice deep. Your faces were so close. So close. And with your wet bodies practically pressed against each other, the tension was suddenly thick.
You slowly came down from your fit of laughter, drawing back into reality: which was Loki’s face eerily close to yours. You sighed softly, making eye contact with his blue ones. You couldn’t read the look on his face, but his gaze was so intense once again, you had to hold your breath.
His fingers brushed your waist ever so slightly, and you reacted without thinking.
You leaned forward, meeting your lips with his. It was a quick peck, before you pulled back in shock.
Your cheeks were tomato red, and it wasn’t because of the sun anymore.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I-“ But your voice trailed off, because Loki’s other hand reached up to touch your face softly.
“L-Loki?” You whispered, your faces close once again.
“Don’t apologize, darling,” Loki said, before meeting you in a second kiss.
His lips against yours, his soft hand on your waist, your hand in his dark locks: it was almost too blissful.
You changed your mind: this was paradise.
“WHAT THE FUCK?” The familiar voice of Tony Stark sounded from the shore.
You helped, breaking apart from Loki, just to see your entire team watching you with their jaws on the floor.
“Oh,” Loki smirked, “Back so early?”
243 notes · View notes
fandominvolved · 3 years ago
Text
Falling head first | SamBucky
Sumary: What happened that caused Buky to ignore Sam's text?
Warnings: smut (it's fade to black), swears, angst, and internalized homophobia (Bucky refers to himself liking Sam as not normal so if you're triggered by such please refrain from reading this fic)
Bucky knew this was going to happen. He knew Steve was going to leave and stay with Peggy. Still, that doesn’t make it hurt any less. Somehow it makes it more painful knowing that Steve went to him, hopeful that Bucky would agree with his plan. That he would be happy for Steve.
And maybe he is a little bit disappointed that Steve didn’t change his mind. That Steve didn't return at the last second. 
After all, It has always been Steve and Bucky until it wasn’t.
Bucky popped off the beer cap with his vibranium arm. He couldn’t even get drunk, but it was better than letting himself pretend everything was okay. Bucky brought up the bottle towards his lips, swallowing down the bitter liquid.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam walking closer to him. He turned around, raising an eyebrow, keeping his gaze settled on Sam.  
He looked anxious, worried, uncertain. Sam’s hands kept fidgeting around, picking at an old scar on his thumb. And Bucky couldn’t blame him for it. After everything that has happened, he would be more worried about Sam acting fine.
“Did you know?” Sam asked, his voice held a rough edge to it as his fingers fiddled around the counter picking at an invisible piece of flint.
Bucky took another swig of the beer, “Yeah, he told me the day before,” Bucky answered. “I tried to get him to stay, but you know how he is-” Bucky chuckled humorlessly “-once he sees something he wants, he gets it no matter the cost,”
Sam glanced at Bucky, his eyebrows knit together. “What about the shield?”
Bucky offered his beer to Sam, watching as he took it out of his hands and took a big gulp. Bucky kept an eye on Sam, watching his face scrunch slightly at the bitter taste.
“What about it?”
“Did you know he was going to give it to me?” Sam asked, scanning Bucky’s face.
“I did,” Bucky nodded, “He told me that there wasn’t a better person to give it to, that you represent what Captain America should be,”
Sam shook his head “I’m no Steve Rogers,”
“You aren’t,” Bucky said, craning his neck upwards fixing his gaze onto the corner of the roof, “But you are Sam Wilson, and that’s enough,” 
Bucky walked around the counter, bending down to grab another beer from the mini-fridge, “There’s a reason he chose you,” Bucky stood up, popping off the cap from the beer as he walked over next to Sam.
“Let me rephrase that, I’m no Captain America. I don’t do the stripes and stars bullshit, that was Steve’s job and now he’s gone.” Sam leaned against the counter.
“You aren’t, but you could be,” Bucky mumbled, “you can’t just let Steve’s legacy die, rotting away in some museum where the only things that are spoken are lies and half-truths,” He took another swig of the beer. The sour taste grounded him. Reminded him he was here and not there.
“That’s the problem I can’t live up to him, I can’t ruin his legacy,”
“If Steve thought you were going to ruin it all he would have never given it to you,” Bucky glanced at Sam, “Why are you so worried?”
“It isn’t just about his legacy, how do you think people would react to a new Captain America,” Sam mumbled, finally breaking eye contact with Bucky.
“They’ll get used to it,”
Sam huffed out, “Of course you don’t get it, just forget it,” Sam shook his head.
Bucky grabbed Sam’s shoulder, and he doesn’t know why he did that. Maybe he craved the familiar sense of warmth Steve used to bring him. “What don’t I get?”
Sam glared at Bucky-but he didn’t shrug Bucky’s handoff on the contrary he seemed to have melted at the slight contact. “Just forget it,”
“Forget what?” Bucky kept on pushing. He wanted, no, needed to know why Sam couldn’t just accept the mantle. 
Sam rolled his eyes “Man, why am I even talking about this with you?” Sam shook his head, “You probably couldn’t even care less about what I do, all you care is about that stupid shield,” 
Bucky tensed up, he glared at Sam, “It isn’t a stupid shield, it’s more than that,”
“You’re right, it’s a piece of metal that you have an unhealthy attachment to, Steve’s gone and the shield won’t bring him back,” Sam exclaimed, glaring back at Bucky as he angled his body so that it was directly in front of Bucky. Barely any space left between them.
"You don't think I know that? But that shield is the only thing Steve left behind and if you even think of throwing everything he worked for away, then I'm not going to let you,"
And if Bucky was smarter he should have put a stop to the rapidly escalating fight. He should have ignored Sam and just drank his day away, hoping that the beer would fill the hole in his heart. He should have just told Sam to calm down, and try to understand him.
But he didn’t.
Bucky was falling, he was falling headfirst with nothing to hang onto. And it’s terrifying how in a mix of fury, frustration, and anxiety Sam’s mouth is suddenly on his. It’s even more terrifying how much Bucky enjoys it.
Sam’s teeth bite into his lip drawing out a low moan from him. And he might be falling, but he has Sam to hold on to. 
Sam’s kisses are bruising. He sucks, bites, and licks every inch of Bucky’s mouth. His hands are gripping Bucky’s hips, it would have been painful had it not been for the super-soldier serum running through Bucky’s veins like fire.
And as much as he wants to act surprised that he and Sam are making out, grinding against each other as their hands grab at every part of their body. He isn’t. Maybe he isn’t surprised because they both lost someone they loved today. Maybe they both crave that sense of security, happiness. That Steve only could give them. But he isn’t here anymore, and all they have is each other. So, they might as well hold on to each other. 
Sam guided Bucky’s vibranium hand under his shirt, letting him explore every single inch of his vast chest. And this was happening. Bucky wasn’t strong enough to put a stop to this. Because as much as he knows they can’t do this, that this is wrong, he is enjoying every single drag of Sam’s tongue against his neck and can’t bring himself to put it to a stop.
He let his hands trail up Sam’s chest, pinching one of his nipples enjoying the way it drew a shaky breath from Sam. Bucky let out a low moan as Sam’s thigh brushed against his hard-on. And wasn’t that embarrassing, he was painfully hard by just making out. But, he couldn’t bring himself to care as Sam’s hand cupped his balls through his too-tight jeans. 
Bucky didn't want Sam to one-up him, so he clumsily unzipped Sam's pants. Pulling them down enough that they rested just right under his ass, exposing Sam’s light grey boxer briefs. 
Bucky smirked as his thumb grazed over the dark patch on Sam's underwear. "You seem eager," Bucky whispered out, his voice rough and a few octaves deeper, against the shell of Sam’s ear, darting his tongue out to lick at it.
Sam shuddered against Bucky as he glared at him, "Shut the fuck up," Sam grabbed onto Bucky's hair and slammed their lips together. Sucking onto his tongue, swallowing down the moan that ripped its way out from Bucky’s throat.
Bucky started palming Sam through his underwear, gripping the long length tightly. 
And this was happening. He was about to have sex with Sam, it’s a bad idea. A horrible one. But, he really can’t bring himself to care. Can’t bring himself to think about the consequences. After all, right now it wasn’t his problem.
***
He couldn’t sleep. Not that he normally even slept, but this time it wasn’t the nightmares keeping him up. No. It was Sam’s naked body pressed against his back, the slow rise and fall of his chest that was keeping him up.
This wasn’t Bucky’s first time sleeping with a guy. He used to get around before he got drafted, even during the war he used to hook up with soldiers. But, they didn’t do this. They never stayed with each other. 
They didn’t even talk after the deed was done. It was dangerous to even hook up with them back then. Bucky knows times have changed. Knows that he doesn’t need to hide this part of him. That it’s not immoral to feel these things. To act upon them. 
But that is new. It's a change. Another different thing he needs to get used to.
He isn’t used to whatever the hell this is. He never hooked up with a friend- unless you count Howard, but it was a one-time thing- it was always with strangers. Men he would never see or speak to again. And he was fine with that. He was fine with not having a relationship with a man, after all, it was the 40s.
And he knows he should probably wait for Sam to wake up and figure out where they both stand. After all, this could have always been a one-time thing. They could always go back to being, sort of friends, sort of enemies. 
He doesn't need to ignore Sam's entire existence with the fear of someone finding out what they did. 
But old habits die hard.
He sat up, being careful not to wake Sam up. Bucky rubbed his flesh arm on his face and stood up. He walked towards the bathroom door and locked it behind him.
He stared at himself in the small mirror on the wall on top of the sink. Dark red hickeys covered his neck downwards until it reached his pectorals. He brought up a hand towards the biggest of them all, located on his collarbone different hues of reds and purples mixed, and ran a light finger over it. Wincing slightly at the contact.
He drifted his eyes over his dark locks of hair, threading his metal finger through them detangling the knots that had formed. His mind drifted back to Sam gripping his hair tightly, pulling on it as Bucky’s lips stretched out around his cock.
Bucky took a step back, letting his arms fall limp. He should stop thinking about Sam, and what happened between them. He should leave, he already has a place in Brooklyn, he just needs to leave. But something is keeping him there.
“Fuck,” Bucky whispered out shakily, finally looking away from the mirror. He was a mess. Bucky doesn’t even know if he will be able to face Sam after this. 
He should have stopped it before it escalated. Before they ended up naked writhing against each other. But he didn’t. And now he had to face the consequences of his actions.
Bucky didn’t want to lose whatever fragile thing he had with Sam. Sam was the only person he even remotely knew in this world. But right now he doesn’t know where he stands with him. Doesn’t know if Sam even tolerates him, at the very least.
Bucky was quickly spiraling down a rabbit hole of thoughts he’d rather never get into.
Bucky jumped as a  knock on the door echoed around the bathroom, breaking him out of his thoughts.
“Bucky? You alright in there?” Sam asked, raising his voice making sure that Bucky would hear him in the bathroom. 
Bucky swallowed down the bile that was threatening to come up, his throat feeling way too dry. “Yeah-” Bucky cleared his throat, “-I’ll be out in a minute.”
Bucky kept his ears peeled, waiting to hear the sounds of Sam’s footsteps leaving, walking back towards the bed. But he didn’t hear that. All that he heard was the soft pound of his own beating heart in sync with Sam’s.
“What’re you doing in there?” Sam asked, a yawn making his way out as he talked.
Bucky looked around the bathroom spotting a pair of red scissors, “Cutting my hair,” Bucky answered after a minute of silence. It wasn’t a lie, he had thought about cutting his hair just not now.
Bucky heard Sam hum, “Need any help?”
“Yeah,” Fuck, why did he say yes. He could have avoided Sam a while longer if he said no. He couldn’t face Sam, not now. But the longer he hesitated, waited, the more impatient, worried Sam would get. So against his better judgment, he unlocked the door, and not even a second later Sam opened it. Entering the bathroom in just his boxer briefs.
“Hey,” Bucky whispered, and he was a mess. He didn’t know what to do in a situation like this. But Sam, Sam just smiled and nodded towards the toilet.
“Sit there,” Sam pointed towards the toiled, “Do you have any hair ties for that rat nest you call hair?”Sam asked, grabbing a towel from the rack. 
Bucky wordlessly opened the sink cabinet and took out an unopened packet of hair ties. He placed it on top of the sink, next to the soap. As his feet moved on their own accord, or at least it felt like it. He straddled the toilet, leaving his back vulnerable. And even though he knew Sam would never hurt him, he still felt on edge. Tense. Anxious. 
He flinched slightly as he felt the rough towel be carefully placed onto his shoulders. Goosebumps rose in his skin as he felt Sam’s breath against his neck.
“Relax, I know what I’m doing,” Sam whispered, Bucky nodded, keeping his lips shut, not trusting himself enough to speak. 
Bucky watched Sam. Watched as he walked over to the hair ties and placed a couple of them onto his wrist. 
The silence that was stretching out over them bothered Bucky. 
Silence. 
He hated silence. It made him think. Remember. And he only ever allowed himself to remember at night. Where he was safely hidden from peering eyes, able to let the nightmares haunt him. Destroy him. Eat him up little by little destroying every single good memory he might still have. Because he is James Buchanan Barnes. He is the Winter Soldier. And he deserves it. He deserves to feel the pain he made so many other people feel.
“How do you know how to..” Bucky gestured vaguely to his head. He needed to break the silence and if the awkward small talk was the way, he would do it. 
Sam shrugged, dividing Bucky’s hair into two sections. “I have a sister, Sarah, when we were teenagers she went through this phase-” Bucky winced as Sam pulled on a strand of hair, “-sorry, but she went through a phase of wanting to have her hair really short,” Sam smiled, tying one of the ties onto one section of Bucky’s hair.
Bucky hummed, keeping his gaze on his vibranium arm. Sam’s voice was nice. It was comforting. 
“She knew if she asked ma' and dad they would say no. So, she forced me every month for a whole year to cut her hair. I'm sure I still have pictures of the first haircut I gave her, it was horrible,” Sam chuckled, leaning over to grab the scissors.
“Any way you want it cut?” Sam whispered, threading his fingers through Bucky’s hair. 
Bucky shivered slightly at the contact. It was strangely domestic, and as much as he hated this. Hated whatever was happening between them because he was scared. Scared of what it could mean for them. Scared of what it could mean for Bucky, and his relationship with his sexuality.
“I just want it short,” Bucky whispered, “I want- need a change,”
Sam hummed, “I think I can do that, just don’t get your hopes up,”
And maybe Bucky doesn’t feel comfortable in his skin anymore. And maybe he still feels the anxiety deep within him of the consequences that this might have, but right now he wants to enjoy it. He wants to enjoy this moment before it’s gone.
***
The haircut wasn’t that bad. It reminded him a lot of a long time ago. It reminded him of days when he was still hopeful that the world wasn’t as bad as it seemed. Bucky licked his lips as he stared at himself in the mirror,  Sam did a better job than he was expecting.
“You’ve been staring at yourself for a while, do you like it?” Sam asked, meeting Bucky’s gaze through the mirror. Bucky could tell he was nervous, what for, he doesn’t know.
“Yeah, it came out better than I expected.” Bucky forced a smile onto his face. (It was a grimace, but he is still getting used to this again)
Sam rolled his eyes, the smile breaking out on his face betraying the fake glare he sent at Bucky, “I’m guessing that as much as a compliment I’m going to get from you,”
Bucky nodded, still on edge. Tense. 
“Alright,” Sam nodded, clapping Bucky on his bare shoulder, “I’m heading back to bed, are you..” Sam trailed off as he stared at Bucky, a hopeful glint in his eyes.
And it was too much for Bucky. The blatant hope that this could be something more was so unfamiliar. That this wasn’t just a fuck and leave situation. That he could have this. 
But he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve Sam, he has so many problems and so many issues. He can’t burden Sam with it. And maybe a part of him still believes what he feels for Sam isn’t right. Isn’t normal.
“Some other time-” There was no other time, this was a one time thing only, “-I have to go to Brooklyn, I have, uh, mandated therapy,” Bucky whispered, watching as Sam’s face fell slightly. Bucky could somehow feel the hole in his heart get impossibly bigger. And it hurts.
Sam nodded, “Yeah, of course, guess I’ll see you some other time,” (There wouldn’t be another time to see Sam, Bucky would make sure of it,) 
Bucky nodded, “Yeah,” He agreed, ignoring the way the pit in his stomach got impossibly deeper.
Sam walked closer to Bucky, he placed a hand onto Bucky’s waist, his thumb rubbing comforting circles over the skin. 
And that just made Bucky leaving Sam even more painful, but it was for the best. 
But he can be selfish, for a little bit he can be selfish. So, Bucky dove down, capturing Sam’s lips with his in a kiss. And Sam kissed him back just as passionate. And this isn’t right, this was a lovers kiss, a promise. Something Bucky can’t give Sam.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Sam whispered against his lips.
Days later he would be in his apartment in Brooklyn, sitting on the floor. Ignoring all of Sam’s missed calls and texts. Because Sam deserves better, he doesn’t deserve a mess. And as much as he wants to be selfish, he can’t. 
Because whatever he is feeling? He doesn't deserve to feel it. He caused so much pain, he isn't allowed to feel this blossoming love that is slowly spreading.
He is falling. He is falling with nothing to hold on to. Except this time he just hopes it kills him.
11 notes · View notes
jinkicake · 4 years ago
Text
Now or Never
Ushijima and his deadpan reactions are going to be the death of you.
Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader
For @dontfuckwpigeons !!! I hope you like it!!! Omg I accidentally posted this earlier while I was trying to save it,, sorry for anyone who saw the rough draft of this.... this is humiliating. Umm, yeah this is another reader and Oikawa friendship pairing with a sprinkle of Iwaoi because you know...  If I had to choose a best friend from the haikyuu clowns it would be Oikawa. This is kinda like a college au, heheh >:-)
SEMI-SMUTTY // NSFW
WC- 1,476
~~~
“Every fucking time I dress up for him, you know what he says to me?” You snap as you continue to furiously stir your drink. Oikawa simply glances up at you from behind his sunglasses, his hangover still railing him. “Looks good.” You purposely lower your voice to try and match Ushijima’s before puffing your cheeks out in relation.
“Does he still fuck you afterward?” Oikawa asks uninterestedly, drinking from his iced coffee as he palms his temples. Damn you for getting him up so early on a Sunday.
“Yes.” You scoff and Oikawa shrugs in response. “I still want a better response though, I want to know what he likes because I want to see him ‘oh’.”
“See him, ‘oh’?” The brunette tilts his head in confusion and you open your mouth like a gasp.
“Oh,” You explain and point to your face, Oikawa simply blinks.
“Oh? Oh.” He nods in understanding and you down your drink in one go. “Here’s an idea (Y/N), why don’t you just ask him how he feels about your little outfits?” Oikawa’s nose scrunches up in disgust at the thought of Ushijima’s ‘oh’.
“I want to catch him off gaurd Tooru! I want that seductive power!” You slam your fist onto the table and Oikawa lets out a groan, the loud noise catching him by surprise. “I am going to tell you every reaction he had for the last four ‘outfits’ I bought him.” You bend your index and middle finger as you quote the word outfit.
“Where do you have the money for this shit?” Oikawa throws back and you shrug innocently. “I swear if you skip buying meals and shit for this-“
“I would never!” You scoff and Oikawa simply raises a brow at you. “Anyway! There I was in the cutest baby pink bodysuit and I walk into his bedroom and Ushijima glances at me. That’s it, he looks at me and tilts his head like a stupid little puppy and simply blinks. I can’t even be mad at him because he is so cute!”
Throughout your entire rant Oikawa simply stares up at the ceiling, mentally trying to figure out how you got him to leave his beautiful bed to talk about Ushijima. Oikawa has to refrain from making a face. The setter comes to the conclusion that the world hates him, that is why this is happening to him.
“And then I tried a black bustier with lace and thigh highs and he didn’t say anything again! He still had that neutral unbreaking expression on his face, though he did fuck me into next week like he genuinely rearranged my guts-“
Oikawa starts tuning you out again and instead focuses on his drink as he tries to picture the outfits you’re talking about. How is he supposed to know what a bustier is? Would Iwaizumi like it if he wore something like that? Oikawa knows he would very much like it if his boyfriend wore something like that, it would definitely complement his power bottom nights-
“The last outfit I tried was a corset, I mean I also wore a thong one time for him but does that even count? And guess what reaction I got?”
Oikawa gasps in fake interest.
“The same expression he always has on?” He asks and you nod your head.
“Yes! Does he think I’m trying too hard, oh what if Ushijima doesn’t like it and doesn’t have the heart to tell me?” You continue to worry out loud, mostly to yourself, and Oikawa glances out the coffee shop window.
The springtime really is pretty especially with the cherry blossoms. Maybe he should force Matsukawa to go hiking or go explore a waterfall or something. What is Matsukawa even doing this week, studying for his midterms? Lame, Oikawa notes that out of all of his friends, you’re the only one who will go drinking with him on Tuesday until you’re both puking in his bathroom.
A strong, beautiful friendship.
“Is he going to break up with me? What if he-“
“(Y/N).” Oikawa finally has enough, he grabs your hands in his and squeezes them hard. “Ushijima is not going to break up with you. You really shouldn’t be worrying this much and if it really bothers you, you need to tell him!” Oikawa scolds, not before he nearly gags on Ushijima’s name.
“Clearly, he really likes what you are wearing even if he doesn’t say it. Judging by your, you know,” He points at your neck with a grimace on his face, you didn’t even bother to cover anything up. You nervously pick at the collar of the hoodie you have on, bringing it up to your chin. “He probably just has a different love language. You and I need words and our significant others simply don’t have the words. It’s okay!”
“You’re right, Tooru!” You gush and Oikawa flips his hair.
“As I always am,”
“I am going to go buy another outfit! And if he doesn’t say anything then I will force him to!” You stand up from your chair and Oikawa swirls his drink in his hand.
“Not what I really said but the thought is there,” He mutters into his straw and you stare at him like you are waiting for him to follow you.
“Do you want to come with me?” At your question, Oikawa stares at you in confusion. To put it simply, hell no.
No, Oikawa doesn’t want to ruin his Sunday by going shopping for Ushiwaka. He simply refuses, he won’t. However, as he continues to stare at you, he figures he would be able to get dinner out of it.
“Sure, you’re buying me food though.” He subtly drops and stands up from his chair, you grab his wrist and proceed to drag him out of the coffee shop.
“I will gladly feed you, Tooru!”
~
Okay, you can do it, you can do it. You stare at yourself in the mirror hanging in Ushijima’s bathroom, the neutral color of the outfit compliments your skin gorgeously. The sheer material falls gracefully over your shoulders, falling like a robe, and this you know will get him. You glance away from the mirror because you know if you stare for too long you will psych yourself out.
Instead, you swallow all your nerves and roll your shoulders back confidently.
Now or never.
You push open the bathroom door and walk into the living room, already knowing that Ushijima is sitting comfortably on the couch. He doesn’t glance up when you walk in, obviously, your arrival wasn’t loud enough.
“Wakatoshi~” You coo and walk up to him, you stand at the edge of the couch and Ushijima slow looks up at you. His eyes run all over your body before landing on your face, your breath hitches when you notice his lips parted slightly agape. “Do you like it?” You ask, your excitement getting the best of you.
“Yes,” Ushijima tells you and that is all he says. You place your hands on his shoulders and blink at him.
“That’s all you have to say?” You press and narrow your eyes, Ushijima simply nods.
Much to his surprise, you push him back against the couch. You sit down directly onto his lap and keep your palms flat against his chest to hold him against the piece of furniture. Ushijima could easily get up, easily sit up even with you on top of him but he lets you continue instead.
“You don’t like it.” You state sadly and Ushijima shakes his head.
“No, I do like it. I love everything you wear.” He compliments and runs his large hands up and down your sides, his pants growing tight at the feeling of the material under his palms.
“Why don’t you ever say that then?” Your insecurity gets the best of you and you are unable to look at him anymore. Ushijima notices your pout with a heavy heart.
“I do not want you to feel as if you have to dress up for me,” Ushijima confesses and you snap your eyes back to him, he continues to stare at your outfit. “I want you to dress up because you want to, not for me.”
Deep in your mind, you can hear Oikawa screaming at you from across the city. His ‘I told you so’ rings loudly in your ears. You push those thoughts to the back of your head and instead stare down at Ushijima with a soft smile on your face.
“I’m sorry for getting upset,” You apologize and gently cup his jaw, running your thumb along his bottom lip.
“I should have said more, I apologize.” Ushijima sighs deeply with regret and you lean forward to press your chest to his.
“You can make it up to me,” The flirtatious response cheekily leaves your lips and Ushijima can’t take his eyes off of your smirk.
“Yeah?” He breathes and you ghost your lips over his.
“Yeah."
~ Taglist.
@yams046 @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy @xhanjisungiex @xxashshs @chaosamu @angelkogane @augustdearly @kunimwuah  @littleshopoflove @osamuonigiri @pearzuko @darksxder @macaronnv @nerdygremlin @buzzybeebee
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hela-avenger · 4 years ago
Text
poison & wine- crossed wires
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Author: hela-avenger
Word Count: 2339
Summary: Prince Loki of Asgard is in need of a date to take back home. That’s where you come in with a task of your own to make the whole trip with an insufferable prince worth it. Too bad that things don’t always go as planned and you end up giving more than you can take. Fake-Dating AU.
A/N: I don’t know why I’m adding salt to the wound, but I couldn’t help myself. This is the beginning of the end everyone! Just a few more updates left for me to write! 
poison & wine masterlist
Loki needs a moment alone. 
He needs peace. He needs silence. 
What he doesn’t need is your handmaidens squealing in front of him in pure glee. Nor did he need you looking up at him in pure shock waiting for an explanation he didn’t have for you.
So he leaves.  
And you’re quick to chase after him. 
Loki can hear your soft steps enter his bedroom and in that split moment he comes up with a solution to it all. 
“Loki?” 
You call out his name again and he’s forced to grab the bag from his closet and walk out to meet you. 
“What are you doing?” 
“Packing,” he answers quickly as he sets your bag on his bed. “You must leave.” 
The words are stiff in his mouth but this was the only escape he could offer to you at the moment. In his selfishness, he had dragged you into an engagement, a future union of marriage with him. And though it was never a part of his plan, Loki could not get the idea out of his mind now. 
Of you, dressed and regaled in Asgardian royal fashion, walking down the aisle to him. To devote yourself to Asgard and most importantly to him and he would have the utmost honor to devote himself to you alone. The future King of Asgard on his knees for you.  
If only he was still selfish enough to think of himself first, he would make that dream into a reality, but you didn’t deserve that. You deserved more which was why you had to make an escape now rather than later. 
Loki attempts to reenter the closet to grab your belongings but you block him from entering. 
“What’s going on with you?” you ask him. “You’re giving up so easily.” 
The way you looked up at him immediately broke the mask he was wearing. Your eyes were laced with concern and worry, but not because of the current situation you were in, but because of him. 
“What am I to do?” Loki can’t help himself but exclaim. “Odin has won. I will happily admit defeat. I will confess to everything. I… I should have never dragged you into this in the first place. Courting is quite simple but a royal engagement, a wedding…” 
He has to stop himself from continuing. 
After a royal marriage, it was standard to attempt to have an heir and the thought of you with his child was certainly a far fetched but beautiful dream. 
Just a dream though. Nothing that could ever be real. 
Loki tries to move past you but you won’t allow him. You shove him back as gently and gracefully as one is able to do. Your hand is warm and strong against his chest. That fire that attracted him from the instance he was met with it was back. Burning bright and steady in your eyes as you faced him now. 
“I’m not leaving,” you state. “I’m not going to run away.” 
“Do you not understand what would occur if we stayed?!” Loki exclaims. 
“I understand well enough!” you exclaim in return. “This is a very unique situation but how is my departure going to help? Running away will reflect poorly on you and me. We just need some time to think of a solution so just… just stop.”
Loki lets out a sigh at your response. He had been so consumed as to what he was feeling that he had overlooked the toll it was taking on you. You were as panicked as he was, perhaps even more so. 
“I… so how is this possible?” you ask him. “How are we suddenly engaged? Why are we just finding out about this now?” 
Loki has to refrain from growling at the thought of Odin. This was another one of his tests. The ultimate test. One made to force him to yield which Loki was more than willing to do for the sake of saving you.
“It’s the Allfather,” Loki mutters, unable to hide his annoyance. “Odin can do whatever he pleases and when you agreed to a courtship with me, you agreed to a potential union in marriage. Odin has merely made the final arrangement which I never expected of him. He’s been fighting this courtship this whole time. I have no idea what could have possibly changed his mind.” 
You turn away from him and he knows the severity of the situation was finally settling on you. You were pulling yourself away from him trying to ease his heartbreak without even knowing it. 
How was he meant to tell you now that he was in love with you? Without making it seem that he had cornered you into an engagement behind your back?
“For whatever reason it may be, he’s certainly caught us off guard,” you whisper. “So we need to find a solution and quickly.”
“You can’t actually be considering going through with the engagement?” Loki asks as you turn back to face him. 
“I mean… what do you suggest we do?” you ask him. “Break it off on the day of our engagement? That won’t go well!” 
“Neither is us getting married, Y/N!” 
Lok instantly regrets raising his voice at you. He can see the pain so clearly on your face at his automatic response. 
“I uh… I didn’t realize how awful it would be for you to lower yourself to marry the half-breed,” you grit out at him. “A prince marrying a half-mortal! Oh, how the royals will surely talk. I’m sure you were hoping for an exotic princess or high-class lady, not some…” 
It pained him that this was what you could possibly think of him. 
You were wrong. Completely wrong. 
“Some what?” Loki interrupts trying to calm your sudden ire. “A strong, stubborn, free-willed demi-god whose beauty I can’t even begin to put into words?” 
Your anger is suddenly gone replaced by a shocked silence as you took in his honest words. Loki was amused and he couldn’t help but smile at you. A smile reserved only for you, not that you knew that. 
“I should be so lucky to have you be my wife,” he whispers as he stands in front of you. 
He can’t help himself now. The mask to protect his own emotions from showing is useless against you. Especially when you look up at him with pure unfiltered trust and a hint of admiration too. Loki wonders if you could potentially love him in return. That after all this time together, you had fallen for him too. 
“You have to promise me, you won’t fall in love with me.” 
Your voice rings so clearly in his mind that he’s shocked that such a memory would return so vividly to remind him of a rule you had made him agree to. It was as if you knew how easily people could fall under your spell and he had been a fool for having fallen for it too. 
And why would you love him? Why would you choose him?
You open your mouth to speak but Loki is quick to prevent your rejection. He clears his throat and looks away. 
“Of course, you deserve someone better than I,” Loki continues. “Someone who can love you in the manner that you deserved to be loved.” 
Someone who isn’t too afraid to admit what he feels. Someone who wouldn’t make up excuses to prevent himself from doing so. 
“You deserve that too, Loki,” you respond. “Someone to love you unconditionally.” 
He can’t help himself. He laughs bitterly at your hopeful outlook in life. 
“What’s so funny?” 
“I...Well I,” Loki turns back to face you with a sad smile on his lips. He clears his throat, unable to meet your eyes and settling to watch your wringing hands. “As a royal prince, I had settled some time ago that I would marry someone for a higher standing in court. The idea of a marriage based on love was never in the cards for me.” 
“You deserve to love and be loved, Loki,” you tell him and before he knows it, you’re holding him in your embrace. 
You feel warm against his chest as you stand on the tip of your toes to reach his shoulders. He melts into your arms unable to resist settling his face into the crook of your neck. He breathes you in and has to restrain himself from pressing a kiss on your soft skin. 
This felt right. 
The way your bodies somehow manage to fit one another like lost puzzle pieces reunited once more. 
By the Norns, he loves you. 
The emotion scares him beyond everything he’s ever suffered through. Just the mere thought of losing you took him back to a dark place he vowed he would never return to. 
But you weren’t his to have. 
You, as he had, vowed to not fall for each other in the duration of your fake courtship. You, unlike him, had a lover waiting for your return. 
Like he said earlier, you deserved better than him. 
“That soldier of yours is one lucky man,” Loki whispers. “To love and be loved by you.” 
You tense under his hold and he wonders if you knew about how he felt about you and If he even stood a chance. 
“I’m sorry.” 
That answers his question, but he overlooks his own heartbreak at the thought of your own happiness. You deserved it. After everything you’ve been through, you more than earned your happy ending. 
It just wasn’t meant to be with him. 
“Bucky Barnes,” he mutters bitterly as he removes himself from your hold. “The Winter Soldier...” 
He turns away from you knowing full well that his heartbreak would be so clear on his face. He didn’t want you to have to deal with his emotions on top of everything else.
“...A lucky man, indeed, to have the chance of showering you with the love and affection you so deserve. If only it could have been me...” 
You don’t seem to have heard him as you mutter your waiting Midgardian lover’s name in fondness. 
“Bucky…” 
Loki closes his eyes and tries to ignore the blooming pain that was spreading across his chest. 
“I won’t judge you if you wish to leave,” Loki states as he forces himself to look at you. He steels his emotions away under his mask again hoping you would let him be this time. That you won’t ask him to reveal what he’s hiding. “I can deal with the engagement aftermath here. You don’t have to stay. You can return to your lover and forget all that’s happened here.” 
You are quick to shake your head and Loki catches it. You don’t hide under a mask like he was. He could see a storm of emotions in your eyes. Loki just didn’t know what they could possibly mean. 
“I want to help you, Loki,” you whisper to him. “All I want to do is help. Don’t make me leave.”
Loki takes in the conflicted features that ran across your face. The wrinkles on your forehead, the firm press of your lips… You were mesmerizing to watch as you thought through a solution. 
“Look, Loki,” you call out his name. “You kept your side of the deal, it’s time for me to keep mine.” 
“Y/N, you can’t actually be considering…” 
“And what if I am?” you interrupt him. “It’s just an engagement, Loki.” 
“Which will eventually lead to a marriage,” he reminds you.
“I know,” you answer. “But what if we just remain engaged? At least, until your coronation.” 
“That can be centuries from now.” 
“Lucky for you, I’ve got a couple of those left.” 
“But Y/N… this is too much for me to ask of you.” 
“You don’t have to ask,” you tell him. “I want to do this for you.” 
“But why?” Loki asks. 
Why would you do this for him? What kind of kindness in your heart would offer this kind of loyalty to him from you?
“Because one of us should get what they want,” you answer. Your hand comes to caress his cheek and he can’t help himself but warmly lean into your palm. “And you deserve to be king, Loki.” 
He sighs into your palm craving to press a kiss there but quickly refrains as he turns away from it. He thinks over what you’ve said. The selfish side of him wanting to agree to it knowing it would keep you at his side for just a bit longer. But he couldn’t let himself be drawn to that, you deserve better from him. 
“There’s a risk,” he comments. “A risk in which Odin will request that we marry before handing over the crown.” 
“A risk we will have to take,” you state and Loki scowls at the simple negligence in your part. You’re quick to notice as you come to your own defense, “It’s better than the alternative, Loki. If we remain engaged, not only will Odin have to deliver on his word, but you won’t need to… I mean you won’t need to court someone for the sake of it. You can… you can take your time and fall in love with someone. If we remain engaged, we can have more time.”
More time. 
More time with you.
Perhaps a chance to have you fall for him for a change. 
He’s silent again. Thinking over if such a chance is even possible. 
You’re watching him again and Loki can feel your hopeful eyes on him once more, begging him to just agree. 
“Fine, alright,” Loki concedes. “Let’s remain engaged for now.”
Loki takes a deep breath and starts to organize his thoughts and emotions. 
Perhaps, centuries from now, you could be his to have and love. He would just have to let you go for now, allow you to chase your happiness with a mortal, before he could have a chance with you himself. 
“We do need more time. More time to resolve this permanently.”
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