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astralisbelle · 2 years ago

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Dead Man's Hand 9 - I'm Feeling Good

Dead Man's Hand Masterlist tags: engineer!reader, gambler!reader, loose canon timeline, eventual smut, fluff, action, casino aesthetics, touch starved reader, touch starved din, reader and din get on each other’s nerves, also they’re idiots, defrosting ice king din, cinderella vibes, everybody loves grogu

chapter summary: Amidst staying up too late and an incident with shoes, they realize that lonely people can come from anywhere.

notes: Getting to the GOOD STUFF real soon after this one. Shit's gonna hit the fan... I promise hah. In the mean time, take some fluff <3

Din can’t take his eyes off of her. During the drawing and betting phases, she enters a zone of absolute focus that reminds him of himself when he uses his rifle.

He wonders how keeping track of it all looks in her mind, how she visualizes the deck, what does she do when cards are revealed. When the time for the reveal comes and her bluffs and secrets are exposed, she puts on the most disarming smile, brimming with confidence. The chips stack, the pot shifts, and the girl from Tatooine teaches everyone watching an important lesson: do not underestimate her.

After she wiped out the handsome man, the Mon Calamari manages to fake-out the Togruta. Five players remain. When the dealer calls to adjourn for the evening, she picks up her skirts and flutters towards him, giddiness in her steps as her heels click into the floor. Grogu, this late at night, has fallen asleep in his pram in spite of all of the noise. “Did you see all that?” she asks, using her thumb to point to the table. “Did you see that?”

“I did. You’re doing great.” Din pushes himself off the wall. “Let’s go.”

“B-Back to the room? Already?”

“It’ll be dawn in a few hours.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess.” She tilts her head, seeing that Grogu passed out already, poor thing. “I should be tired, but I have so much energy! Maybe you two should head back.”

“And you?”

She bites her lip to contain her excitement. “The parties are still going. I’ve never been to one! I heard there’s booze and dancing and overall a crazy time.” She shimmies her shoulders. “You don’t mind, do you? I swear, I’ll be back before the sun’s up.”

Truth be told, he does mind. Though unorthodox, this is a job like any other and he worries that distractions could affect her play style. He’s about to point all this out, but the look in her eyes steals his words away. There is a glow around her, like a star before it bursts. One look at her, and no one would guess that she was from a backwater planet, fighting for scraps and counting cards in the corners of cantinas. Din has to remind himself that she is doing him a huge favor and that she is capable of making her own decisions. Though, of course, a part of him still worries. He doesn’t trust anyone in this place.

“...Fine.” She jumps in place, clapping her hands together. “But if you aren’t back by then, I’m going to look for you.”

“I’d have no doubt that you’d find me.” She turns half-way. “Oh, thank you, Din.” Right, he forgot that he told her his name. Having anyone know it is something he needs to adjust to. He simply nods, his visor covering the bashful look in his eyes.

“H-Have fun.”

---

Din stays up, doing maintenance on his weapons in the meantime. He inspects them, washes away any specks, adjusts any components, keeping them neat on the living room table. Occasionally, he stands and peeks into the pram to make sure Grogu sleeps soundly. This is nice, at least, having the quiet moments between himself and his little troublemaker. It wasn’t until Grogu came into his life that Din realized how lonely the path of a bounty hunter can be, especially one that walks the Way of the Mandalore. He’s almost embarrassed to admit that he cannot imagine life without him now. A part of him hopes that he’s enough for Grogu.

Din remembers the scene of the morning, Grogu clinging to her finger, his body close to her chest. His heart tugs at the realization that Grogu will probably miss her when all of this is done. Oh well. They would visit her whenever the Razor Crest needed repairs (which is often, nowadays.)

Two hours pass. She has thirty minutes before Din is ready to put his helmet back on and go search for her. Just before that happens, he hears giggling outside of the door. He slides the helmet back onto his head and stands up just as the door slides open. A guard has her arm wrapped around his shoulder and she… well, she looks fine, other than her cheeks flushing red and a dazed smile on her lips. “Sir.”

“Mando! You missed ooout!”

“Oh, kriff.” He relieves the guard of her, letting her balance her entire weight on him. “Sorry, I’ve got her.”

“Not a problem, sir. Have a nice evening.”

Once the door closes, she laughs again and looks up. “I’m sorry, they had this drink that looked like all the stars were in your glass and it was so good. It was so good, Din.” At least she isn’t slurring her words. She is, however, very giggly. “Oh, it was so much fun!”

“Yeah.” He looks back at the pram, not wanting to wake Grogu. Better do this quick. Din leads her across the living room then closes the bedroom door behind them. He sets her down on the bed, listening to her snicker. “Good night.”

“Wait, wait.” She sits up. “Can you, can you get my shoes. I can’t…” She makes a pathetic stretch towards her feet. “I can’t reach… pffft.” Then she chortles into another giggle fit. Din groans, feeling his favorite word (“no”) ready on his tongue, but she uses those damn eyes again, coy and tempting. He resists her request for a few moments longer before he caves and kneels before her, taking her shoe in hand. At first, his attempts to undo the buckle are thwarted thanks to the thick leather of his gloves so after a while, he just swears under his breath and removes them.

His bare fingers hold her ankle while he undoes the buckle this time, pulling the straps through the loops. The touch makes her chest flutter – is this what they mean when they say princesses and queens are waited on hand and foot? When he takes off her shoe, he does so without yanking it of her ankle, taking his time. She tilts her head, watching without missing a single beat as he lifts her other foot to untie the buckle. “It was beautiful,” she breathes out. “So many lights. The music is so loud that you can’t hear anything else. And I thought dancing would be prettier, but it was just a lot of arm flailing and jumping.”

“Sounds awful.”

He slips the other shoe off, again, careful not to yank on her ankle. “You’re so sweet.” The words spill out of her mouth.

“Wh-what?”

Din’s flustered voice makes her laugh again. “What? You are. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. I know you’ve got a reputation.” She winks.

He grumbles. “Is that all?” With urgency, he stands up, pulling his gloves back on.

Her eyes trail up, taking in the entire full body of the Mandalorian. She knows the warmth of all of the liquor makes her body feel light and her mind blank. She stares into the darkness of the visor. I wonder… such a pretty name. Is your face just as pretty underneath that helmet?

He says her name to snap her out of her thoughts.

“Oh. It’s…” She has to say something to keep him here. “Din, even if I lose, I’m never gonna forget this. All of this. It’s so amazing.” She lies down on her back, staring at the ceiling. “But I’m not gonna lose.”

“You’re sure?”

“I just remembered what you told me, about it not being different underneath it all. And you were right.” She rolls onto her side.

Din knows he can end this conversation as fast as he wanted to, but he hears the wistfulness in her voice, the sincerity despite the inebriation. And, a part of him doesn’t mind talking to her. Daresay, it rather likes it. He sits on the edge of the bed, looking over his shoulder. “You’re gonna have a hell of a story to tell Peli.”

“Oh. Yeah.” She gets up so they sit side by side, her legs resting on the bed. “You know, depending how big the final payout is, she could retire with that money. Stars, so could I. I could… not go back.”

“...Is that something you want?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never thought of it before.” They turn their gazes towards the wide window, watching the dark sky turn lighter, blues mixing with oranges. The lights in the buildings turn off as the sun peeks from the horizon, making the waters shimmer like thousands of jewels. It’s a sight Din has seen a handful of times, but it’s never felt this peaceful. She watches it with a faraway look, as if memorizing it. “You know, I… I’ve been alone. Since I was, I dunno, eight? Nine?” Her voice quiets.

Din faces the window. “You lost your parents?”

“Mhm. Something about a debt they couldn’t pay. I don’t remember and it doesn’t matter anymore… and you?”

His throat hardens, as it usually does when someone tries to bring up the past. “...Clone wars,” is all he answers. “I was a Foundling.”

“I see. I’m sorry.” She pulls the jewelry off her hands, her rings then her bracelets. “I know how hard that is…” She tosses it all on the night table. “As for me, since then, I just focused on one thing: surviving. I would do whatever it took. I’d go through the dumpsters. I’d beg. Sometimes, I’d get in trouble just so they’d throw me in jail. At least it meant a bed and slop which was better than most days. I… I didn’t have dreams or aspirations.” Her hand inches – just inches – towards his. “I didn’t have anything. And now, I…” She sniffles and her bottom lip trembles. As she wipes her eye, she forces a laugh through the tears. Keep it together. Come on. You’re a big girl, now’s not the time. “I’m sorry.” Another nervous laugh. “I don’t know why I’m like this.”

Din knows. He knows. “It’s okay,” he says. “I understand. I… I was lucky that I was saved. I had a family. It… it must have been hard for you. I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

I’m sorry. No one had ever said those words to her like that. I’m sorry you lost your parents. I’m sorry you had such a hard life. I’m sorry you went through all of that. Her throat chokes up and her vision blurs. The tears roll down her cheeks. You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve any of it.

She wants to hug him. She wants to hide her ugly, crying face in his chest. She wants to feel those hands that were so gentle with her moments ago around herself. But she has to be realistic. She’s pulled herself together in the past, all by herself, and now couldn’t be any different. Her fingers wipe away the tears and she inhales deeply. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s fine. And, look. You don’t have to stay in Tatooine. I have a ship, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go after this is over.”

“And… where would I go?”

“Like I said: anywhere.”

She wants to tease him and say that that answer isn’t helpful, but she gets his meaning. Truth be told, she hasn’t the faintest clue of where that would be. It’s not as if anyone wants her. “...Okay.” She smiles and she hopes, but isn’t sure, that he smiles back – she wonders if he has a nice smile. When he moves, she stops him. “Din.”

“Yes?”

“...I’m going to win.”

He stands up slowly. “I know. Get some sleep.”

“Okay.” She watches him go to the door. “Good night – er, morning. Sweet dreams.”

“...You too.”

When he leaves, she reaches behind herself to pull the ties off her dress, letting it fall to the floor. She uses a nearby towel to wipe her face before she snuggles under the covers. Wait, something seems missing… Grogu. Wait, but didn’t Din say it’d be better for him to be in the room? That was the whole reason he made her sleep in the bed–

Oh. She chuckles to herself, hugging a pillow between her arms. That softie.

Outside her door, Din needs a moment. His back leans against the door as his head rests. Inside, his chest feels uneasy, abuzz with warmth. His heart races, pounding in his ear. When did he feel like this before?

He remembers: it was right after he rescued Grogu after giving him up and they were flying away on the Razor Crest. It’s that feeling of knowing he did something right with a mix of anxiety of what consequences he would reap for this.

But that’s just the thing: what consequences could possibly come out of this?

Maybe he’s thinking about it too much… or he just really needs the sleep.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian fanfic #work: dead man's hand #crying screaming sobbing throwing up about these two #its nice they have this moment #theyre #theyre gonna need it

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keithisbae1 · 11 months ago

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The Mershark & Mermaid - Part 8

Maybe they could be friends.

“You don’t look like a full shark.” Boruto swam around little Sarada eyeing her.

“Wha-what?”

“I don’t know.” The young sharkling shrugged. “There’s something different about you, but I can’t put my tail on it.” Then again perhaps not. Did he suspect something was off? What if he finds out and brings her to that bigger mershark who was talking to her Papa earlier.

Sarada gulped, she really wanted to get back to her Mama now. She didn’t feel safe and there were too many mersharks around. She should have stayed, she should of-

“You look a lot like Uncle Sasuke but there’s something off too.”

“May… maybe it’s because of my Mama?” I mean it was only natural right. He didn’t have to know she was a mermaid. “And I am a full mershark!” Sarada lied with confidence but it was to keep herself safe. She had to lay low until she found a way home. And what was wrong with being half mershark and half mermaid?

“Sorry, but you do look weird-” Sarada gave a small huff swimming away, all anxiety disappearing. She’ll play on this act until she could find a way out of there. It took a while before the other sharkling went to catch up to her, he didn’t mean to offend her.

“Hey!”

“I don’t want to hear you insulting me anymore.” I mean really? Was this how he made friends?

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” Boruto swam up in front of the sharkling stopping Sarada from going further. She pouted crossing her claws together, he really had the nerve.

“I promise I won’t say anything else okay.” Sarada doubted it but at least he did look apologetic.

“Anyway, do you want to play together?”

“No!” Sarada probably answered a bit too quickly.

“Eh? Why?”

“Because I need to get back to-” No she couldn’t mention Mama, he would most likely follow her unaware she wanted to get away from here. But what else was she supposed to do? Maybe she could trick Boruto to help her?

“You need to go back to Uncle Sasuke? You don’t have to go right away do you?”

“Uh…”

“I’m sure Uncle Sasuke won’t mind if you are with me, like I said he and my Dad are really good friends. I can show you around. Oh, you have to meet Mitsuki too, all of us will be great friends.” The blonde grinned with his claw held out to her.

“…”

“Okay…” Sarada gave in, besides it wasn’t like she knew where she was going. At least for now she could trust Boruto and hope Papa will find her.

“By the way, I never caught your name.”

“Sarada.”

~~~

There was an awkward silence between Sasuke and Sakura, seeing as she insisted on tagging along with him Sasuke suggested staying low for now so there was less chance of being spotted. He was in front and on the lookout so that if any shark was to be seen they could back away before they were noticed.

“We can’t keep low like this, Sarada could be anywhere-”

“And if you swim up you’ll be fresh meat, have you forgotten where you are?!” Couldn’t she see he was trying to protect her and she wanted to make a scene and be caught?

“I don’t need you to protect me, I need you to protect our daughter! How can you be so calm about all this?”

“Sarada will be fine, she’s a shark. She’s less likely to stand out compared to you.”

“Even so, she’s still part mermaid. Do you really want to take that risk? Forget it! I’ll find her myself.” As Sakura was about to head up three sharks came swimming by and Sasuke quickly took her arm bringing her back down and hid behind a rock, he covered her mouth before she could let out a yelp shielding her body with his and hoped they would swim past.

Instead one of them narrowed their eyes calling out to the others.

“Oi, oi did you see that?” They turned their heads looking around but nothing.

“Did we see what?”

“I thought I saw... eh must be my imagination.”

“You’re always seeing things. Should we be worried about you?”

“Haha, very funny. I swear I saw a mermaid.”

“Mermaid? I have heard they’ve been showing up more recently. Just the other day that Hyuga saw one. Are you sure it was a mermaid?”

“I’m pretty sure, perhaps they’re hiding-”

“Do I look like a Mermaid to you?” Sasuke came out deciding it was best to reveal himself rather than have them find Sakura. She watched from afar being sure to stay as well hidden as possible.

“Ah... Uchiha-san... I’m sorry I didn’t realise I...” He looked back to his friends for some help but they backed away in fear.

“Sorry, sir, he’s always seeing things.” They tried to excuse him but the glare Sasuke sent their way made them quickly flee swimming away.

“Hah! What a bunch of cowards. Imagine being afraid of you-”

“What did I tell you? Do you think it’s wise to parade yourself about?” Sakura remained quiet, partly embarrassed with how right he was and another having been too close to him earlier.

“Even after all these years, you are still the same. I would have thought you learned to be more careful, that you would know better. Especially with Sarada.”

That seemed to snap her out of it.

“Be more careful? Why else do you think I protected Sarada from you? To keep her away from the other sharks but nooo you were the one who brought her here and now she could be in danger.” He didn’t have an excuse for that, she was his. Rather than think rationally he wanted to spend time and get to know her.

“Don’t you dare have a go at me for being immature when you agreed to this!”

“She’s my daughter!” Again, what else was he supposed to say?

“And you should know better! Shark or not, this place is not safe for her. Besides you were the one who broke things off! Do I have to keep reminding you? So why do you get a say now? Who are you to tell me how to raise her?”

“And you think Sarada will be happy when I tell her mother is dead because you’ve been looking for her? If you didn’t want all this stress you should have stayed away from me!”

“Oh, that’s rich, I can say the same to you. You could have easily stopped this long beforehand and you never did. Not until it was too late.” Even with all the yelling and screaming, not one shark was to be seen. She knew being alone with him would be too much, that there would be nothing but arguments (at least on her side) but him being worried about her made no sense.

Why would he care now?

Sakura sighed feeling frustrated that she couldn’t get through to him.

“I don’t get it, what’s up with you Sasuke? What are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding anything.” They were so close now.

“Liar, it’s been years and I can still see right through you.”

“You knew I went back right?”

“What?”

“I went back, I wanted to tell you about Sarada. As upset as I was and knew you didn’t want to see me. I felt like you deserved to know, you are her father after all. But then I saw you with her.”

“Her?”

“The mershark, you two were very... close. She was all over you. I assumed that was why you broke up with me, that you were cheating on me.”

Ah, he knew what day she was referring to. His parents wanted to set him up with a shark instead however after already threatening to kill Sakura it was too late to go back to normal.

“So was it true?”

“Were you cheating on me?” Was it better to tell the truth? Wouldn’t that make things more difficult?

But Mama deserves to know the truth.

Mama won't forgive you at all if you don't tell her anything.

His daughter’s words rang in his ears, what good would it do though?

“Does that matter now?”

“I guess not, we should look for Sarada anyway.” It wasn’t the answer she wanted but questions and fighting can come after, right now they had to find their daughter.

“Ah.”

~~~

“Do we really have to do this?” Sarada, Boruto and Mitsuki were all hiding behind a rock away from their prey. There was a swarm of fish of all kinds swimming around. She didn’t want to chase after them, she’ll freak out and what kind of mershark is afraid of fish? They’ll start suspecting something is strange, she’ll be found out and then they’ll eat her… or their parents will eat her.

No, Sarada shook her head. She could do this, she had to.

“Yeah, it’s a really fun game. Plus it helps us practice hunting.”

“Have you never played before? I thought it was a common game for sharklings?” Mitsuki asked innocently, of course, the two were aware that Sarada wasn’t a good hunter from watching her and Sasuke before. That was why Boruto purposely chose this game, as a way to help. They expected her to confess that she didn’t know how to hunt so they could give her tips but it seemed her pride too great.

“Uh yeah, of course, I have. I’m just not in the mood.”

They wouldn’t pry though, it must be embarrassing having to be a shark and Uchiha that couldn’t hunt.

“Ah ah look over there, Mitsuki there’s a bunch of baby ones over there.” Mitsuki nodded and then pointed out to a bigger fish that would be perfect for Boruto to take. “I can bring it to Mom, she’ll be so happy.” The two started to discuss their plan of action, Boruto and Mitsuki will take different directions so that they could trap and lure the fish Sarada’s way so that she would have the chance to get one. Then afterwards Boruto can go ahead and catch his own prey for his family. It was the perfect plan.

“Ready… GO! Sarada you know what to do right?” Boruto and Mitsuki swam in the opposite direction of one another leaving little Sarada to watch in horror as all the fishes started to panic. This was horrible, how was she going to save them? She followed after, a bit later eyes darting from one side to the other. Some managed to hide in small holes or duck down into their homes. Others however were too stressed and kept bumping into one another.

A bunch of baby fishes headed her way, the plan was going exactly how they wanted. Instead of doing anything Sarada just ushered them away allowing them to swim past her.

“Go, go, I’ll distract them. Just go!” Somehow… thankfully they were too busy to notice. Sarada needed to get their attention and then an idea popped into her head.

She let out a scream and purposely swam over to Boruto bumping into him, the two crashed against another rock and hearing this Mitsuki swam over to check the damage.

“Are you two okay?” Was it embarrassing for little Sarada? Yes, but at least the fish would be okay.

“Oh, so you were chased after a bigger Mershark and got lost?” Sarada nodded pretending to still be scared, although thinking about the larger snake mershark she saw before it wasn’t hard to pretend to be shaken up.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I thought I saw him again. That’s why I wanted to go back to Papa, he must be worried.”

“Either that or chasing after the shark himself, Uncle Sasuke can be really scary when he wants to be.” Boruto nodded, now it made sense why Sarada was insistent on wanting to go back. He felt a bit guilty forcing her to play.

“That doesn’t surprise me, you’re not really good at hunting are you?” Sarada froze at Mitsuki’s words. Did he know? “How…how did you figure that?”

“We saw you and Uncle Sasuke together and you were crying-”

“I was NOT!”

“Was too, but it doesn’t matter.” Boruto shrugged. “Big mersharks go after weaker sharkling all the time, it’s pretty common.”

“So, does that mean you two are in just as much danger too?” Would mersharks come after them as well?

“I can beat up any shark that tries to eat me!”

“No offence Boruto-Kun but I don’t think you could.” Sarada let out a small giggle at that causing the blonde to frown. “Hey, I’m super strong!”

“It really depends.” Mitsuki ignored Boruto’s protests. “If you show a sign of weakness, like you not being able to hunt other sharks will see you as vulnerable and easy prey. On the other hand, it’s not uncommon for them to also eat sharks just because they can. We only have to be faster than them.”

Wow, being a shark was tough.

“Maybe we should take Sarada back to Sasuke-san though. He must be worried about her.”

“Mmh, that’s a good point.” Sarada was happy that they were willing to help.

“Oh, I almost forgot. Boruto-Kun did you hear the rumours?”

“Rumours?”

“About a half mershark and mermaid about. Apparently-”

“Boruto, there you are.” A bigger mershark appeared interrupting Mitsuki, much to Sarada’s relief. She would have definitely given it away and how did he know about her? Not even her Papa did beforehand.

Perhaps she should be wary of him.

“Mom!” Boruto swam over happily and excitedly told her what they were doing and playing hunting.

“Oh this is Sarada, she’s our new friend.” He grinned introducing her.

“Uh hi?” She squeaked, wow she looked so pretty and similar to Neji had a silver tail only with dark long blue hair.

“Oh yeah and guess what? She’s also Uncle Sasuke’s daughter too!”

Wait, what?

“What do you mean, he doesn’t have a daughter.” Hinata looked at the girl suspiciously. She did look a lot like him but as far as she knew he had no sharklings.

“Um...”

“She’s not,” Mitsuki smiled innocently.

“Eh? What do you mean she’s not?” Now Boruto was confused, but she said she was and they both saw her with Sasuke.

“Boruto is just making things up again.”

“Boruto is that true?”

“Eh? No, I mean we saw-” As Boruto was trying to explain to a furious Hinata who looked down on him disappointedly, Sarada turned to the other shark. “Why did you say that?”

“My parent knows everything about your Papa. All the sharks try to keep it a secret from us sharklings, that a mershark mated and was with a mermaid because they worry we’ll do the same.”

“So you’re keeping my secret for your parent?”

“No, I won’t even say anything to them. I just wanted to see what kind of shark you are and besides Boruto-Kun will know too so it’ll be the three of us.” Said sharkling was now being yelled at by his mother.

“And well Boruto is not the best at keeping secrets, I tried to tell him before.”

“How do I know I can trust you?” After he was about to expose her to Boruto and knowing about her this whole time... then again, what choice did she have?

“Guess you’ll just have to wait and see.” There was that smile again, could she trust him? Hopefully... she’ll have to let her Papa know.

#sasusaku #sasuke uchiha x sakura haruno #sasusaku fanfic #ssfanfic #sasusakufanfiction #mershark/mermaid AU #mershark Sasuke #mermaid Sakura #mershark Sarada

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sarahowritesostucky · 1 year ago

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Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x Bucky

Tags: ptsd, trauma recovery, kink negotiations, fetishes, fantasies, body modification, objectification, degradation, self-harm, destructive sexual urges, heavy bdsm, bondage, 24/7 D/s, dom Steve, sub Bucky, sadism, masochism, castration fantasy, dark comedy, oddly sweet relationship dynamics (idiots in love)

Summary: Bucky explains his darkest fantasies to Steve

🖤Disclaimer: Nobody gets castrated or otherwise body-modified in this fic, okay? It's Steve and Bucky, kink negotiating and sceneing w/ regards to Bucky's very strange fantasies.

Wait! I haven't read Part 1 Part 2 yet!

Part 3 - That Morning a Few Months Ago, When Steve Found Out About The Castration Issue, cont'd

By the time all the clothespins are on, Bucky is a sweaty, twitching mess. “Shhh,” Steve soothes—somewhat hypocritically, since he’s the one doing all the pinching. “You’re okay.”

“Mmhm,” Bucky nods, trembling. “Oh, god, Steve.”

“Shh, I know. I know.” Steve very much does not know. He’s never had a clothespin anywhere near his junk, and he never intends to.

These ones are teeny tiny and pastel-colored, maybe an inch long - like clothespins made for dolls. If that's true, then they’re certainly being put to off-brand use. Steve would laugh about it, but he’s tested the things on the skin between his thumb and forefinger, and they pinch like a motherfucker.

Bucky’s got them all around his groin and thighs, his taint and foreskin, all the way down the shaft to where the cock ring/stretcher hugs his cock at the base. The sensitive skin of his balls would have them too, only they’re still being pushed and weighed down by the stretcher, too taught to hold onto anything. Everywhere else is covered in the sweet looking clips, each one applied with tender, sadistic care.

Steve would argue that it’s not really sadism, if you’re only enjoying it because you know your masochistic partner is. That’s just love. But he can’t deny that he’s enjoyed watching Bucky react to the intimate hurts, because Bucky’s beautiful in anything he does. Even suffering.

Every time his breath has hitched, every time his muscles have tensed and his body jerked, has been in response to Steve applying a new clip. His skin is flushed purply-pink from it, getting darker by the minute from all the blood flow between his legs; his breath coming in desperate, shaky inhales. His eyes are wet with tears but he’s not crying. Steve would assume that he hates this, if not for the fact that his hips keep jumping into it, if not for the fact that Steve hasn’t stroked him off once since he first slid the ring on and started hurting him, and Bucky’s still hard as a fucking rock.

Steve gets a bunch more oil on his hands and touches him delicately, careful not to knock the clips around too much. He gently, gently holds the head of Bucky’s dick and rubs in wet little circles, pressing against the softness of the glans, digging the tip of his thumb into the slit, gathering the precum that beads out and swirling it around.

Bucky grunts softly when Steve reaches back with his other hand and starts pressing against the base of the plug that's in his ass. At the same time, he keeps working the pad of his finger back and forth under the head of Bucky's dick, and glances up. Bucky’s brow is pinched, his expression one of distress.

Steve keeps pulsing the plug, keeps rubbing that sensitive spot under the head of his dick. “This feel good?” he asks quietly, not surprised when Bucky nods and whines unhappily.

“Steve … p-please …”

“Shhh. It sounds real pretty, honey, but you shouldn’t beg. I’m not gonna listen.”

Bucky shivers and nods. “Yes Sir.”

“Steve,” he corrects.

“S-steve.”

Steve had thought he’d like it, being called ‘Sir’, but he’s come to find that it’s not his favorite. It usually feels so inauthentic, stripping what they do together of its real intimacy and making it into a production instead.

Only when he’s doing the most outlandish, demeaning, perverted things to Bucky, does ‘Sir’ ever feel right. Only then, or else when Bucky’s in subspace (Bucky still denies that’s what it is, but Steve can tell when it happens, and if that helpless, non-verbal, pink-flushed and muzzy-eyed condition isn’t subspace, then Steve doesn’t know what the hell is). Bucky doesn’t seem to be very able to call him anything but ‘Sir’, when he’s in that state.

“Are you gonna?” Bucky asks in a nervous whisper. Steve is still rubbing under the head of his dick with one hand, still pulsing the plug with the other. “Are you going to turn it on?”

He’s not, but he doesn’t need Bucky to know that. “I might,” he says instead. “If I decide I want to.” He tilts his head and surveys Bucky’s expression. “What’s the word you say if you can’t do it?” he prompts, and Bucky breathes out a laboured,

“Yellow.”

“Good.” Steve acts like he never even asked the question, still gliding his finger around that one, sensitive spot. Bucky doesn’t say yellow, and Steve moves on, makes a ring with his thumb and forefinger and jerks him below the head in gentle motions that tug his foreskin and just barely jostle all the clips along his shaft.

Bucky hisses at the combined pain and pleasure. “Hunh-ah! Ohn … sh-hit.”

Steve trails fingers down the center of his sac, smearing oil, tracing the seam from front to back, delighting in how he can see the twitching as Bucky’s balls keep trying and failing to pull up close to his body. “S’it a lot?” he murmurs, glancing up and catching the end of Bucky’s throat bobbing in a heavy swallow.

“Uh huh,” he gasps. “Ss-steve … I’m so—oh … I’m s-sso …”

“Close?” Steve whispers, but Bucky shakes his head and whines a pathetic little ‘no’. Steve tuts. “Oh, Sweetheart, I think you’re lying to me. I think you’re real close.” A stifled whimper cuts off in a gasp as Steve curls his fingers against his balls, over and over, stroking and then patting in an almost-but-not-quite rough enough way to be what Bucky wants. Everything is filthily, luxuriously slick. “I mean, you can cum just from me wailing on your ass a little, and I’ve got fucking clothespins all over your junk, pal. So I think you must be feelin’ real wound up.” He closes his oiled fist over his cock for a single, loose stroke and slaps his balls at the very end of it.

“Ohn ... fuck,” Bucky says, and it’s Steve’s favorite kind of ‘fuck’: the kind that’s whimpered, high and tight and hushed, half in the throat and half behind the nose; the kind that works its way through clenched teeth, turns guttural at the end, and barely makes it past the vocal cords. And Steve is a bad man, because he would pay a lot of money to hear nothing but those sorts of desperate, not-quite-sure-I-want-it, ‘fuck’s from Bucky’s lips for all time.

He takes a break when he sees Bucky’s cock throb dangerously hard. Even with the ring and stretcher on, Steve’s been teasing him for a while now, relentless, slipping and sliding and pinching and clipping the little clips in places that hurt Bucky just the way he craves. And despite his enduring aversion to it, Bucky is still a healthy, grown adult male who’ll come if you touch his cock enough—and Steve has been touching. Not to mention the plug up his ass, currently inflated to press unerringly against his prostate. So Steve pulls his hands away and stands up from the chair.

Bucky’s eyes follow him, heated, a little pinch of unhappiness between his eyebrows the longer he looks. “Steve,” he says softly, asking and complaining all in one. Steve smiles, fond, because Bucky’s always had a talent for packing a lot of shit into the single syllable of his name. Bucky’s complaining because he doesn’t like that Steve’s still fully dressed.

This started out as Steve panicking and needing to get his bizarrely traumatized boyfriend under control as fast as possible. Now that he has, his field of vision almost seems to expand. He becomes more aware of himself, of how his pants have become too tight, how his pulse is ticking in his veins and his cock is trapped and pressing against the zip of his jeans uncomfortably.

He gives himself some relief by flicking the button and pulling down the fly. It feels good, makes him realize how long he’d been ignoring himself in the first place. Steve shivers pleasantly and bites back the groan that wants to come, stepping back into the vee of Bucky’s legs.

He licks his lips and lets his eyes roam greedily over all of Bucky’s tanned skin. Fuck, he’s gorgeous like this: body held taught and trembling, skin flushed and just barely starting to sweat as he hangs there, suspended, wanting, helpless to Steve’s whims.

Steve’s dick gives a hearty pulse now that he’s made room for it, and he allows himself one good squeeze from over the the crotch of his jeans before ignoring it again. In his bonds, Bucky looses a tiny sound of frustration, holding back whatever it is he wants to say.

Steve smirks. “Oh yeah?” He rubs his hands all over Bucky’s shoulders and down his pecs, over the ladder of his ribs and the tight lines of his abdomen, fingers following the belt of muscle that slips from his waist down to his shuddering pelvis. He flicks at the clips closest to the cockring’s base and waits for Bucky to hiss in pain before closing his fist around the head of his dick. He squeezes in little, repetitive pulses. Over and over until he gets another overwhelmed cry out of Bucky,

“Ah! Ss-s-steve, please … I-I can’t …”

“Sure you can,” he murmurs. He steps close enough that their chests touch, and then leans in just another inch or two, pushing Bucky’s body with his, forcing him back in the ropes. Bucky’s bonds are all rigged from a single pivot point in the ceiling, so Steve knows that this is tightening the harness, making the ropes dig in cruelly at Bucky’s thighs and ass. He knows he doesn’t have to worry though—Bucky’s always griping that Steve might as well not even bother with shibari if he isn’t going to make it harsh enough to leave real marks.

He smooths his hands over the tops of Bucky’s thighs, groping the muscle, then sliding outwards to his butt. Bucky’s hands are both clenched into fists where they’re tied at his sides and Steve brushes over them with his fingers in a quiet little hello, before veering away to grab at his hips again. He uses that hold to rock them together, slow and dirty. It’s not really the right angle for Steve, but that’s not why he’s doing it. He wants to watch Bucky’s pupils dilate as he responds to Steve’s touch, wants to see him helplessly react to the pressure and the friction.

There’s no way the grinding doesn’t make every single one of the clothespins move and twinge painfully. Bucky keeps making little hurt sounds the more he’s pinched and stimulated, and Steve leans in and kisses him. It’s a sloppy, shallow kiss, stopping and restarting multiple times, Steve doing most of the work while he hums in mock sympathy and licks at Bucky’s slack mouth. “Yeah,” he breathes. “You are close, huh?”

Bucky shivers and nods, more tears leaking from his eyes. And these ones, Steve thinks, these ones might be real tears of distress. Steve’s heart pangs for him, even as his neglected dick throbs in his underwear from watching it all. He’s been hurting Bucky real nice, but he’s also been touching everything he wants to touch, in ways that aren’t always easy for Bucky. Feeling so much has Bucky’s breath hitching in barely-there sobs each time Steve pushes on the plug or dares to glance fingertips against the head of his cock.

“Buck,” he coos, looking down between their bodies. “It’s alright to feel good, baby. You know that. You’re allowed. It’s not a bad thing to let it feel good.” He glides his fingers into the crease of Bucky’s hip, down between his legs and back up to the base of his cock, over his pubic bone where, as far as Steve knows, hair hasn’t grown since 1945. Steve likes to watch the shine and trickle of the oil against all that bare, ruddy skin. He likes watching everything darken, likes the access it gives him. “I want to put my mouth on you so bad,” he confesses, not surprised when Bucky shudders against him.

“Please,” he breathes, begging for Steve to not do that. “Steve …”

Steve’s balls throb and his dick pulses in a strange but familiar counterpoint to the ache that always lodges in his chest whenever he hears Bucky fearing something that should only feel good. “Hang on, pal,” he soothes, stepping away to the rolling cart so that he can get the crop he’d set aside. “You’ve still got a lot of explaining left to do.” He curls his fingers over the crop’s handle. It’s a very small implement, less than two feet long, with a short and sturdy fold of leather at the tip—made just for the sort of precise, delicate swatting that Steve has in mind. Bucky’s throat clicks audibly in another nervous swallow as he watches Steve take hold of it. Steve uses the tip to touch Bucky’s chest. He pats the leather flange against his pec, nudging at the black metal barbell that beads out to either side of his nipple. “Are you ready to get talking?”

Bucky nods shakily. “What do you wanna know?”

“Well …” Steve keeps his tone conversational as he pats around at Bucky’s belly and groin with light, testing ‘thwaks’. He sits in the chair. “Knowing you, you’ve probably already researched it to hell and back, am I right?”

“... Yeah,” Bucky says distractedly, and Steve knows without looking up that he’s staring at the crop and where Steve might be taking it next. “I’m sorry.”

Steve swats him on the inner thigh. “I don’t want you to be sorry,” he corrects. “I want you to explain.”

“Steve …”

“Explain it to me,” he repeats, stern, fluttering the tip of the crop along the taut line of a hip flexor. “What is it about it that appeals, hm?” He lets his eyes drag back up to Bucky’s face. “Why do you like the idea of … of castrating yourself?” He hesitates for only a fraction of a second, but he knows that Bucky doesn’t miss it, doesn’t miss how it is hard for him to even say the word. Steve swallows and steels himself. He already has a pretty good guess of what Bucky’s answer is going to be, but he needs to hear it from him. He lets the crop trail lazily up and down Bucky’s inner thigh, stopping to nudge one of the clips along his taint. “Come on, pal. Explain it to me. I’m not gonna knock these off until you do.”

Bucky’s face is red, embarrassed, and it takes him a moment before he can manage to open his mouth and admit, “I like … that it makes you soft. I probably wouldn’t be able to get hard anymore. My body wouldn’t react the same.”

Steve frowns and touches the bouncing line of Bucky’s erection with the crop. Just the visual threat of it there is enough to make Bucky jerk with excitement. Steve tuts at the reaction, but it was an honest answer, so he swats him lightly on the head of his cock in reward.

Bucky makes a horrible, stifled sound; like he’s taken a gut punch but is trying to keep quiet. “So it’s about being impotent, then,” Steve says, heart sinking and trying not to show it. He’s always tried hard to make sure that what they do together is something good, something Bucky either wants, is ambivalent about, or can learn to want. Steve hates the idea that maybe he’s been pushing sex on Bucky when he doesn’t want it. He’s got his mouth open to say something to that effect, but Bucky’s already answering him,

“No. Not impotent. Just …” he flounders. “Just different.” Steve raises an eyebrow and makes a hand gesture to indicate that Bucky should keep on talking, because Steve sure as shit doesn’t understand yet. Bucky sighs. “I like the idea of just being there for you. Of my body not reacting. Not being able to use my cock to feel good.” His face colors even worse and he averts his eyes. “I’d never have to see it get hard.”

Steve presses his lips tightly together, hurt by that. He knows that it makes Bucky nervous to see his own body react that way. Steve’s never been brave enough to ask for the specifics of why. The generalities are plenty, and Steve’s not so stupid that he can’t infer. Bucky was tortured, horrifically, raped and traumatized until all the wires in his brain got crossed. They still are, these days, but Steve’s been trying his damned hardest to untangle at least a few of them. “So you never want to cum?” he asks in disbelief. “Ever again?” The thought makes him want to cry.

“No! I do. I mean, I still could,” Bucky says. “When you want me to. When I need it. But it would never happen by accident, only if you wanted it to, if you put real work into it. Otherwise, I—” He chokes on a breathy ‘ah!’ as Steve swats the head of his cock again, “I–I wouldn’t have to—ooh!—w-worry about it.”

“Mm. ‘Worry’,” Steve repeats unhappily. “What about the humiliation aspect of it? The emasculation?” Steve’s pretty sure that’s what it’s about for most of the freaky fetish internet people (but leave it to Bucky to find the fringe group of a fringe group). “Is that part of the fantasy?”

Bucky pauses guiltily. “I mean … yeah. It’d be a bonus, I guess.”

Steve scoffs. He really feels like he needs a lot more time to try and wrap his mind around the way that Bucky sees this, because God knows it’s not how Steve sees it. Just the concept of being voluntary neutered has him wanting to shield his own nuts with both hands. Still, he tries to do what he always does in situations like this. He flexes his mental strength and imagines how Bucky must feel about this new, fucked up thing he’s expressing. “So ... you like that your body would be under control?” he eventually guesses, taking his cues from Bucky’s expressions. He taps the shaft of the crop against where the plug is lodged in Bucky’s ass, watching him wince minutely. “Your body’s reactions, your sex drive?”

Bucky nods and croaks out, “Yeah. Yeah, under your control. Exactly. This would just control it a little bit. I like feeling under control.”

"I know you do.” Steve is in no way actually considering this, but he plays along, mapping out the shape of it in his mind. He winds up drawing an unpleasant comparison between Bucky getting his balls chopped off to control his sexuality, and female circumcision. “... Men who’ve had this done,” he asks slowly, “they don’t get erections?”

“Well … No. Not easily. Not strong ones.”

“Do they ejaculate?”

“Not as much.”

“Huh.” He trails the crop down Bucky’s cock, nudging at the clips along the way. He leans forward in the chair and watches intently as he rubs the leather flange over Bucky’s balls. They’re taut and shiny and dark, swollen from being bound so cruelly. He taps them once and Bucky flinches and gasps. “But they can still have orgasms?” Steve checks.

“Y-yeah. Dry. They can cum dry.”

Steve looks up. “Personally, I really like these,” he says, tapping. “I like seeing ‘em, touching ‘em, putting ‘em in my mouth. I don’t know what I’d do, if you—” he cuts off, swallowing down a slight wave of nausea at the image of Bucky, bleeding out on some guy’s basement’s tennis table. “You can’t get your balls chopped off, Buck,” he says, forcing levity into his voice. “It’d be such a waste.” He lifts Bucky’s balls up on the shaft of the crop and hefts their weight a few times. “Look at these gorgeous nuts, huh? Just think: what would I get to torture so nicely if you didn’t have these beauties?”

Bucky’s face is still flushed deep in embarrassment, but he isn’t looking away from Steve anymore. He starts chewing his lip, and Steve gives him a real swat behind his balls, getting a bare spot between the clips on his taint. Bucky moans and jerks, making the harness sway midair. Steve steadies him.

“You’d really take that away from me? Hm? Change your body like that?”

Bucky shakes his head, fast and desperate, and the obvious honesty in it is a huge relief. “No,” he gasps. “No not if you didn’t let me. I wouldn’t, I swear!”

“But if I let you?” Steve asks, waspish, striking out to knock one of the clips off from behind his balls. Bucky yelps. “You’d gladly do it then?”

“Oghn.” Bucky nods, recovering from the pain—cock dripping from the pain. He looks pleadingly down at him. “It’d be so simple,” he whispers. “I’d be so simple and compact and so … so useful for you.”

Steve averts his gaze back down so that Bucky can’t see the revulsion pass through his eyes. He doesn’t even know what the hell Bucky means by all that. It’s like they’re speaking in two different dialects of the same language: close, but no cigar. “You really think I want to have sex with someone who doesn’t enjoy it?” he asks, trying not to let his voice waver with the sorrow he feels.

“No,” Bucky insists. “I would enjoy it.”

“That makes no sense, you jerk. You wouldn’t have a sex drive!” Steve says angrily. “Your body wouldn’t have testosterone, and you wouldn’t have a sex drive.”

“I’d still be able to feel pleasure,” Bucky insists. “When you touch me. And I’d still want to be intimate with you. You could still make me cum. All of that, but it would just all be you.” He says it like he’s pleading with Steve to understand. “Don’t you see? I wouldn’t need it, but I could enjoy it when I got it anyway. Please! I just want to work right. I want to be under control.”

Steve nods, upset and trying to calm himself down. He doesn’t think they’re going to come to any kind of an understanding on this one. “Sometimes the wires won’t make sense,” he can just hear his therapist saying. “And they don’t need to. You can still be a supportive partner. Do your best to understand, tell him when you can’t, and don’t invalidate what he feels.”

“I’d be sexual with you,” Bucky’s still arguing, frustrating Steve by plowing ahead and just spitting more words out at him. “I wouldn’t be doing you a favor. I’d want it. You’ll make me want it. But when I’m by myself, it’d just be gone. Like turning off a vibrator when you’re not using it.”

“Christ.”

“… Is that really so bad to want?” he asks, looking hurt.

It’s messed up on seven fucking-levels to want, Steve thinks but doesn’t say. He knows he should try harder to talk this out—Bucky’s clearly not trying to hurt himself just for the sake of hurting himself—but right now Steve is still terrified of what might happen. He feels tired, brain overly taxed from trying to navigate the traumatized, fucked-up nooks and crannies of the brain of the man he loves and just wants to make love to, goddamnit. He sniffs and looks back up at him, features stern. “Well sorry to break it to you, pal, but no matter why you think you want to do it, I’m not letting you chop your balls off. You’re just gonna have to catalogue that one in the spank bank.”

“Steeve,”

Like a brittled rubber band, Steve’s tolerance snaps. In a flash, he starts hitting the clothespins with the crop, knocking them off suddenly and precisely, one by one by one. He’s aware of Bucky gasping and yelping and jerking from the sudden pain, but he doesn’t stop until he’s knocked every single one of the clips off. “I’m gonna cum,” Bucky gasps breathlessly, right on the edge. “I’m–I’m—”

Steve leans forward in the chair, hauls Bucky’s crotch to his face, and sucks his tortured balls straight into his mouth. Bucky keens and jerks, but Steve doesn’t let go. He brings a hand up to knuckle brutally into Bucky’s taint, and then—meanly but so goddamn carefully—he closes his teeth, biting down on Bucky’s balls hard enough to make it really hurt.

Bucky’s sharp cries don’t disappear so much as they go subvocal, cut off into a choking, strangled sound that tells Steve as good as any scream could, that he’s climaxing. The flesh in Steve’s mouth throbs and twitches, Bucky’s balls trying desperately to pull up tight to his body as he comes. Steve thinks that the pain of having them forced away like this must be dragging the orgasm out, making it more intense; and despite how fucked up it all is, Steve feels glad that he can give that to him.

He stops biting after a second or two and just sucks on them instead, feeling the shape against his tongue and the twitches of Bucky’s hips against his face. Distantly, he’s aware of the spurts of cum that’ve landed against his neck and shoulder, probably getting on his tee shirt in the back, too. He waits until Bucky is shivering with oversensitivity before he pulls his mouth away. Bucky’s erection has flagged, though his cock remains thickened because of the ring. Steve works it off him as gently as he can, grinding his teeth every time he hears Bucky hiss and whimper from the overstimulation. “Sorry, sorry.”

“I’m okay.”

He stands up again and pulls Bucky into a tight hug, not wanting him to see the wetness that’s in his eyes. Bucky’s arms both flex where they’re bound at his sides, telling Steve that if he had them free, he’d be hugging back right now. “I love you,” Steve whispers, thinking that he’s got to think of a way to satisfy this urge of Bucky’s. Preferably before the idiot goes and gets his nuts chopped off.

Steve’s therapist is no fucking help whatsoever. She doesn’t immediately freak out when he tells her about Bucky joining nutjob (literally) chat groups online. Steve doesn’t know why he’s surprised. She never says what he wants her to. He’s her client, goddammit. He’s the one paying her. She’s never even met Bucky and yet she still somehow always seems to take his side. So they talk a lot about Bucky and what sorts of things might help him to feel satisfied without amateur surgery in Mexico/Some Guy’s Basement.

“No. How can that possibly help? It can’t!”

“We don’t get to tell people how they should feel, or how they should heal, Steve. Reenacting in a safe space, with a safe person, that can be very cathartic.”

Steve manically researches cock cages and chastity play on the internet for a day and a half. He sits Bucky down for a Serious Conversation on possibilities other than literal castration.

So, ‘consensual non-consent’ is a thing— “CNC,” because everything has to have a goddamn acronym these days.

Steve’s pretty sure that what they’ve been doing can’t technically count as that, because Bucky never non-consents to begin with—he’s a 24/7 whore for being forced, used, and objectified. But yeah, it’s basically rape play. Because of course it would be.

Turns out, Steve’s sexual orientation really is double dog dare, because Bucky likes CNC a lot, and so they get into that, because Steve would never deny him anything that facilitates intimacy between them. Turns out that when he’s held and forced and used and put and made to, many of Bucky’s sexual problems don’t rear their ugly heads. And Steve can get used to an-ny-thing, if it’s something that helps Bucky accept pleasure.

So they make some changes in their daily life and habits. Because at this point, what’s a few more? Bucky starts wearing cock cages all the time, and only Steve is allowed to remove them, and sometimes Bucky just wants to bend over and take it and be a good object for Steve, which is what they do.

They order a bunch of stuff on Amazon. Silicon, plastic, metal, tiny, medium, solid, slotted, big, locking—all sorts get ordered and show up at their door not twenty four hours later, and Bucky tries them all and picks his favorites. Steve is tasked with disposing of the reject pile. As a child of the depression, it hurts a piece of his soul to throw anything away unused, even a handful of cock cages. Bucky tells him to stop being an idiot and chuck ‘em. Steve does.

Bucky wants one absolutely locked on himself that he cannot get hard in and he cannot remove. For safety reasons, Steve is wary of this. “What if you’re in a car accident or something, huh? Your dick’ll get crushed and the doctors won’t be able to get to it in time!”

Bucky’s blithe response of “All the better,” does not inspire confidence in Steve.

They come to the compromise of a heavy-duty metal cage, but with single-use plastic padlocks—they come in packs of a hundred and have serial numbers on each one, so that Steve will absolutely know if Bucky ever cuts one off without telling him. Bucky clearly has no intention of jerking one out on the sly, so he readily agrees to this. Effectively, they incapacitate Bucky’s dick in a sick sort of mockery of Bucky’s castration fantasy.

Steve learns all about castration fantasies, of course. He researches the hell out of it so that he can know all the right things to do and say to get Bucky off when they play. He learns all about the prostate and where it is and how to make Bucky come from that and only that. For the first time ever, with the help of a few handy bedroom accessories and a little practice (and Bucky spending a lot of quality time with his own therapist), Steve is actually able to initiate sexual touch without triggering him. Turns out, all you have to do is lock Bucky’s dick up and he’s just fine and dandy with being fucked, fingered, or toyed with to orgasm—only minimal dehumanization or knifeplay needed.

Steve absolutely cries some very manly tears when he’s finally able to hold the fucking love of his life in a soft bed and make love to him—with Bucky actually enjoying it.

Masterlist

Part 4

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sassy-ahsoka-tano · 2 years ago

Text

Angel and the Freak

Character/Fandom: Eddie Munson - Stranger Things

Requested: yes - anon!

Prompt: When you forget your prized jean jacket backstage after theatre rehearsals, you have no choice but to run back and get it. Finding yourself face-to-face with the school's resident freak, Eddie Munson, you learn just how charming you can be. [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: none! this is ✨ wholesome ✨

Rating: Pg || Word Count: 4.0k

A/N: anon, you literally read my mind??? i've had a shred of an idea floating around in my brain for MONTHS of writing an eddie fic where the reader does musical theatre because the hellfire meeting in ep. 1 is so clearly on the HHS stage. so this was PERFECT

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[ request | masterlist | wanna be tagged? ]

🦋 mila

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

As you grab the handle of the car door, you suddenly feel the missing weight of something that should be tied to your waist. You quickly search your body, but you don’t find what you’re looking for.

“Oh god, wait! I forgot my jacket. Hold on, I’ll be right back!” you shout to your friends, spinning on your heel before they have a chance to protest.

You rush away, back toward the theatre. You need that jacket; it’s your prized possession. You’ve put way too much work into it to leave it behind. As you swing the back door to the theatre open, your ears are flooded with loud, harsh music. You furrow your eyebrows and stalk quietly toward the sound. As you get closer, you realize that you’re listening to “Dreamer Deceiver” by Judas Priest. You’d know that song anywhere; it’s one of the songs you use to practice expanding your vocal range.

You wade through the backstage area, cluttered with racks of costumes and set pieces all painted and ready to be deployed for the first show tomorrow night. You peek your head around the corner of the wall. The stage is lit by the lights above, a mix of blue, yellow, and red which casts a muddy glow over the scene. Your eyes track across the stage and find a man, a student, you don’t recognize. He’s bent over a table, his arms moving wildly. Your eyes land on a small black cassette player stacked on top of a bunch of boxes. You can tell just by the sight of this student that he’s not a theatre kid. You’d recognize him if he were. With a shrug, you step out from behind the wall.

“Um, hi!” you say loudly.

You were hoping he’d be able to hear you over the loud music. But, after waiting patiently for a few minutes with no response, you forcefully clear your throat. Still nothing. You cup your hands around your mouth and prepare to shout.

“Hey!”

The boy’s head suddenly snaps back. He glances over his shoulder in your direction. With the low lighting, you can’t see his face, only a mane of uncouth, long, curly hair. You squint and raise your hand to wave. He lunges over the table in front of him and clicks off the cassette player. Once the room is encased in silence, you step forward awkwardly.

“Um, hi,” you say. His back is still turned away from you as he fiddles with something. “Sorry for interrupting you.”

“Hey, no problem. What, uh, can I do for you?” he asks.

Your eyes are too busy scanning the room to notice that he’s turned toward you. Your gaze continues to search and re-search the exact spot where you’re fairly certain you had left your jacket.

“I just forgot my jacket and was wondering if you happened to see it. I thought I left it over-”

“Oh, yeah, got it right here,” he interrupts you.

At the sound of his reply, your stare centers on him. Your eyebrows raise as you meet his deep brown eyes. Now that you can see him clearly, you would swear you know him from somewhere. His hair is wild and long, falling all the way down to his shoulders. His soft eyes are friendly; they remind you of a puppy’s. He's actually super cute, maybe even pretty. You can’t place a name to his face, but…maybe he’s in your history class with Mrs. O’Donnell? Yeah, that feels right.

Offering a smile, you step closer to him to take the jacket from his fingers. As you do, your fingertips gently brush against one another.

“Thanks,” you say.

“No problem. Cool pins.”

“Oh, thanks!”

You giggle nervously as heat creeps up through your ears. You quickly swipe your finger over the top of your favorite Lord of the Rings pin, which reads “Gamgee for President.” Can you say embarrassing?

“That’s actually why I came back for it,” you continue. “I’ve put a lot of work into this jacket with all the pins and patches and stuff.”

“Oh believe me, I get it,” he replies, leaning back to grab something behind him

As he does so, the hem of his shirt rides up just enough to give you the slightest peek at his stomach. Your eyes can’t help but drop down to take it in. You bite your lip as you feel butterflies in your stomach, fluttering softly. You’re all but positive now that Mrs. O’Donnell’s class is where you know him from. But his name…what is it?

He presents a jean vest to you. You take it from him, nodding as you examine it. Judging by the frayed hems, it looks like he’s cut or ripped off the sleeves. There are pins and patches placed haphazardly across the fabric. Each piece of decoration is merchandise for a different metal band: Motorhead, W.A.S.P., Judas Priest, etcetera. You flip the jacket over and smile at the massive Dio patch sewn onto the back flap.

“Kind of a metalhead, aren’t you? Very impressive, though,” you say, handing the jacket back. “You don’t have as many as I do, but I have the exact same Judas Priest one, actually.”

“No shit.”

You pull your jacket up, maneuvering to the exact spot where you know that very same Judas Priest pin has been secured for the last eight months. He steps forward, leaning closer to examine it. He chuckles, his fingers swiping over the glossy surface of the metal pin. You bite away the smile that tugs at the corner of your mouth. He smells like a mixture of smoke, musk, and something mildly sweet that you can’t quite identify. It’s a nice smell, natural and not chemical like some colognes. After a moment, he pulls away, glancing down at you with furrowed eyebrows. His eyes flick up and down your figure. You cross your arms over your chest defensively.

“What?” you ask.

“You just don’t seem like the kind of person who would have a heavy metal band pinned on your jacket, that’s all.”

“Don’t judge a book by its cover,” you quip, narrowing your eyes. “I happen to dabble in metal so I can work on my vocal range. Judas Preist, in particular, and that song,” you gesture to the player, “specifically.”

“Really? You in a band or something?”

You laugh, shaking your head.

“Not exactly. I do musical theatre. Hence the jacket being left over there. We’re doing Grease for the spring production and I'm playing Sandy.”

You wince as the words leave your lips and wonder why you feel pressured to impress him so much. Why did you think telling him you’re playing little miss Sandra Dee herself would impress him, anyway? Silence has settled between you, his head nodding slowly. You don’t have to justify yourself to him, to the likes of E-! His name suddenly clicks in your head. Your pleasure in remembering it moves you to break the awkward tension.

“Hey, I do know you. It’s Eddie, right? You have Mrs. O’Donnell’s history class for fourth period. I knew you looked familiar! I’m in that class, too. I’m-”

“Y/N,” he says, a smile spreading across his handsome features. “I know who you are.”

“Right,” you nod, dropping your embarrassed gaze. “Well, I know you're not in theatre, so what are you doing back here?”

He uncrosses his arms, pulling his shirt taut. Your eyes move down to take in the logo printed on it: a satanic red face with horns jutting out from its skull, haunting yellow eyes, and jagged teeth. To the sides of the figure, you recognize a sword and a mace with oddly shaped dice. The words HELLFIRE CLUB are printed in bold, black letters across the top of the shirt.

“Just setting up for a club meeting,

“Hellfire Club? What’s that?”

“Only the most badass club this school has ever had.”

“Okay,” you chuckle. “Well, what do you do?”

“Asking what we don’t do would be a better question,” he answers, flicking his pointer finger matter-of-factly. “We battle evil vampires, drink ales at the local pub, discover treasure, and go on long adventures to defeat evil and save the world as we know it.”

You raise your eyebrows.

“You…what?”

He sighs, his smile fading quickly. His lips flatten as his cheeks heat up into a soft pink.

“We play a fantasy game called Dungeons and Dragons.”

“Ohhh, yeah…” you squint your eyes and lean close, jokingly whispering, “isn’t that the game that promotes Satanic worship or whatever?”

He chuckles deeply, the sound tinged with an almost sinister tone.

“According to adults who don’t know any better. According to the fried brains of intellectually weak and easily persuaded teenagers who are slaves to popular customs. According to the school that forces conformity on every student who goes here.”

“Forced conformity?” you repeat, nodding slowly. You shrug. “Sounds like a drag.”

His eyes flick up to catch yours. The corner of his mouth twitches up into a smile. His gaze momentarily drops down to your lips before returning to your eyes. You ignore the temptation to move closer to him and, instead, lean around his body to see what’s behind him. You gesture toward the table on which tiny figurines and sets are meticulously placed.

“So how do you play this fantasy game?”

“It’s pretty simple, really. You create a character and then you make decisions as if you were that character. You roll dice with each decision and, depending on the stats of your character, your rolls determine whether you’re successful or not.”

As he explains, you step around him to approach the table. You lower yourself down so that you’re at eye-level with the surface. Each figurine is delicately and painstakingly painted. The attention to detail is incredible. You snatch one up, a tall green figure holding a giant axe between his hands. The figurine’s face is drawn into an angry frown, the long, pointed teeth gnashed together.

“Sounds a bit like theatre, actually,” you muse.

Eddie steps up beside you, placing his palms on the table. He leans over the surface, mimicking your position.

“In a lot of ways, it is theatre. In fact, there’s actually a class that would be perfect for you,” he says, reaching to grab one of the figures.

When his arm gently brushes against yours, you gulp down your nerves. The butterflies in your stomach are flipping over each other.

“Class? What does that mean?” you ask.

“Your class is like the type of player you are. Different classes have different abilities. For example, that,” he points to the green man you’re holding, “would be a barbarian. Barbarians are super strong but not very intelligent. They can inflict a lot of damage but they’re shit when trying to solve puzzles. This, however-”

He holds his palm out flat and, nestled in it, is a woman clad in a bright orange dress with a purple crown adorning her head. She holds some kind of musical instrument in her arms; it looks like some type of medieval harp. You move a little closer to him, peering down at the figure.

“This is a bard,” he continues. You glance up into his eyes for clarification. “Bards are magic users. They weave magic through words and music to inspire allies, demoralize foes, manipulate objects and minds, and even heal wounds.”

“Wow,” you nod. "She's so beautiful and elegant."

"Mhm," Eddie hums in agreement. "She looks a lot like you, actually."

You glance up at him with a teasing smile.

“So what is, like, their most powerful spell?” you ask, trying to distract yourself from the pounding of your heart.

“Bards have a ton of great spells. While not the most powerful, one particularly awesome one is Charm Person. That spell allows the bard to charm an enemy within their range. If the target fails to roll a certain number, called a saving throw, that creature is charmed by the bard until the spell ends. Super useful and very compatible with bards, since they’re extremely charismatic.”

“Oh? So…you think I’m beautiful, elegant, and charismatic?”

You allow the smirk on your face to grow across your cheeks. Eddie lifts his eyes, wide and round. He stares at you in surprise. You think you notice that blush returning to his cheeks. His eyes once again flick down to your lips. Yours do the same to his and you gently lean forward, anxiously waiting for him to make a move. For a moment, it seems like he’s giving in. But he suddenly jerks backward and clears his throat loudly. You heave a shaky breath and continue talking to dispel the awkwardness that’s festering between you.

“So, let’s say I am a bar..?”

“A bard.”

“A bard, right. How would I…cast this spell?”

“Through your instrument, whatever your character has. For a bard, their instrument is like a weapon. So instead of channeling your spells through a staff like other magic users, you would use an instrument.”

“Any kind of instrument?”

“Sure. Guitars, flutes, harps, drums-”

“What about a voice?”

“Sure, that, too. But you’d still have to have something like a microphone to channel it through.”

“Okay. And what kinds of creatures would the spell work on?”

“Oh, it could work on any. Doesn’t matter what type of creature you’re attacking. What matters is whether their stats are high enough to prevent you from succeeding. For example, in this case, creatures with low wisdom would be more likely to fail their saving throw, but a character of any class could easily fall under your spell.”

“And what class do you usually play as?”

“Well, I’m the DM, the dungeon master, so I run the game. I'm all the extra characters, the villains and anyone else the party runs into along their journey. But when I do play, I always go for a ranger or a bard.”

“Really? Wait, you don’t sing, too, do you?”

“God no. I think that’d be torture for everyone. I do play guitar, though. I’m in a band, actually.”

“Oh…” you say, perking up.

Your heart flutters. Everyone knows that guys in bands are way hot. Your gaze falls onto Eddie’s long, slender digits. Your mind momentarily drifts into a daydream of those fingers dancing across the strings of a guitar. You shake your head to snap yourself back into the present.

“Yeah, Corroded Coffin," he continues. "We play at The Hideout on Tuesdays. We get a crowd…of about five drunks.”

You laugh, shaking your head. He’s funny, too? You’re starting to think you should get out of there before he charms his way right into your life. Silence settles for a few minutes as you both waver awkwardly in the space between you. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to get out of there, and you probably should since your friends are waiting for you. But you can’t bring yourself to end this moment with Eddie. Something about him is drawing you in, begging you to stay a little longer.

“So would this charm spell…" you start, "would it work on say…another bard, perhaps?”

The hint of a smile tugs at his lips. He turns toward you, leaning against his elbow on the table. His head flops to the side, his jawline pulled tightly and sharply against his skin, the muscles in his neck taut. Your eyes snap over to appreciate his bone structure for just a second.

“Depends,” he says, his voice dropping to a low tone.

“On what?” you answer, embarrassed by the breathy undertone of your voice.

“Just how good of a singer are you?”

You haven’t really noticed, but you’re suddenly acutely aware of the fact that you’re standing so close to each other. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice your fingers on the table. Your fingertips are just millimeters away from touching Eddie’s. Your eyes are locked in a trance.

“I’m unmatched,” you reply teasingly.

“Oh yeah?”

“I can prove it. If I have to.”

“Please, my lady,” he gestures to the space in between you, “the floor’s yours.”

You straighten up and clear your throat. You take a deep breath and center yourself, just as your voice teacher had taught you to do. Once you open your mouth, you forget where you are and who you are. Whenever you sing, you’re transported to another place and time, where everything in the world is right and safe and happy. You almost feel like you’re flying, like your soul has sprouted wings.

Over the years, you’ve been told that you have a nice, clear, strong voice. You’re no Whitney Houston by any means. But as you belt out the lyrics to Sandy’s melancholy “Hopelessly Devoted to You,” you can feel the way your voice moves through your throat. You know when you’ve hit a note confidently. After a few bars, you allow your voice to fade out, holding the last note for a few seconds longer than usual.

Once finished, you open your eyes. Eddie’s eyebrows are raised, eyes wide. He’s looking up at you like you’re a piece of art, like you’re a beautiful landscape painting. You feel heat immediately gathering in your neck and face. You chuckle nervously and drop back onto the table, hunching your shoulders over. He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds and you gulp, suddenly feeling incredibly nervous. His silence is making you second-guess your talent. Maybe you’re not as impressive as you thought you were…

“You sound like an angel,” he finally says, in a tone just above a hushed whisper.

You look up at him, your heart beating erratically against your chest. Your palms are growing clammy with every second. Your eyes drop down to his mouth. You can’t tear your gaze away when his lips part. He’s even closer now than you realized and his head is tilted down toward yours. His gentle brown eyes are focused hard on your face, trained on your lips. The veins in his neck are pulsing with his heartbeat. You can just barely see his collarbone peeking out from underneath his shirt. Your eyes start to flutter closed as he leans a smidge closer.

“I take it the spell worked, then?” you whisper, finally tearing your eyes up to his.

He doesn’t respond, his eyes still sewn to your lips. He dips down. You raise your head up to meet his lowering one. The moment your lips connect, you know you’re a goner. Your fingers curl into a fist on the table, your fingertips tingling to feel his skin. His lips are soft and warm, encapsulating yours comfortably. He pushes against you firmly and you love the feeling of the pressure. When your lips part, you both waver in the space between, the heat of your bodies mixing. Wasting no time, Eddie’s head juts forward and he kisses you again, a little harder this time. His hand finds its way to your waist and he grasps onto you, pulling you a step closer to him. Your hands slide onto his chest, your fingers curling into his shirt to hold his lips on yours. You tilt your heads to reach each other better and-

“Y/N, are you coming? I-ope!”

Your lips slip from Eddie’s and you whirl around with wide eyes. Your friend, Caroline, is standing offstage, her hands wrapped around her mouth.

“Caroline!” you shout. “Oh my god! I-I forgot you were waiting for me. I’m sorry.”

“Oh no,” Caroline responds. When she drops her hands, a wide smile is pulled across her lips. “No, that’s totally fine. I didn’t mean to…interrupt here. We were just wondering what happened to you.”

“What? Nothing happened. I…” you stutter, glancing back at Eddie.

He’s leaning against the table, his head dropped so that you can’t see his eyes. You’re feeling frazzled, totally caught off-guard. You shake your head. You can’t stop the goofy smile that raises to your lips. You can feel yourself growing hot again, the embarrassment of a teenage crush raging through your entire body.

“Eddie was just helping me find my jacket, and we were…uh…”

“I’ll tell them to wait up for a few more minutes,” Caroline replies. “But we can’t wait forever. We’re late as it is.”

“Thanks,” you reply, shooting her a grateful expression. “I won’t be long, I promise.”

Caroline just laughs, throwing up a dismissive hand as she spins on her heel and disappears into the shadows. Releasing a breath, you turn back toward Eddie. He lifts his head. His cheeks are definitely a bright pink now. His bangs are hanging in his face, covering part of his eyes. He looks adorable, like a bashful puppy, and you almost laugh at how strange his softness looks draped all in black and red.

“Well, I guess I’d better get going. Thank you for this,” you say, gesturing toward the jacket.

“Anytime. I think, uh, you’re missing a spot, though,” he says.

“What?”

You furrow your eyebrows, holding the jacket up to examine it. You peer closer at the fabric as you discover the awkward empty space he’s referring to. The pin that belonged there must have come unfastened and gotten knocked off. You groan, your fingertip running over the vacant holes where the pin used to be secured.

“If you wanted, you could, uh…you can have this one,” he continues, stretching his hand out.

On his palm is a pin. You swipe it from his grasp and smile when you see what’s printed on it. It’s a Judas Priest pin. You smile and hurriedly clip it onto the jacket.

“It’s perfect. Thank you.”

He just nods. You waver awkwardly for a moment, unsure whether you should do something besides just saying goodbye. A thought suddenly occurs to you.

“Oh hey, you should come see the musical. Our first show is tomorrow night. And I am the lead, so I can promise a charismatic show.”

“Yeah...listen, um, musical theatre isn’t really my thing,” he answers.

You nod, your face falling, your heart crashing onto the floor. You feel stupid. Of course, it’s not his thing. Why did you even ask?

“But..” he continues. Your eyes widen in hope. “If you’re in it, maybe you’ll change my mind, Angel.”

You can’t do anything this time to stop the smile from overtaking you. His use of a pet name for you only makes you smile harder.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. As long as you don’t use Charm Person on me.”

“I’ll try my best not to. But no promises.”

You both share a mischievous smirk, your heart fluttering with every breath you take. You clutch hard onto your jacket.

“Well, I guess, I’ll see you around,” you say.

You wiggle your fingers coquettishly, shooting him a flirty smile. As soon as you turn your back on him, you bite your lip hard, silently cheering to yourself. You only make it a few steps before his voice stops you.

“Hey, uh, Y/N?”

You pause and turn to glance over your shoulder.

“You should maybe come see the band, too. We cover a lot of Judas Priest, so maybe you’d have a good time. As it happens, we're actually in the market for a lead singer, too. If you're interested. I don’t know…”

You giggle softly and bite your lip.

“I tell you what, Eddie. If you come see me tomorrow night, I’ll drop by a show. You said Tuesdays at The Hideout, right?”

“Yep,” Eddie nods. “Corroded Coffin.”

“We don’t have rehearsals on Tuesdays,” you say. “Looks like you’re in luck. I’ll think about it.”

Eddie catches his lip between his teeth. There your heart goes, fluttering away again. Too nervous for a kiss and too excited for a hug, you settle on giving him a small peck. You quickly kiss his cheek and then dash away. You feel like a silly teenage girl but you love every second of it. You giggle as he shouts after you.

“See you tomorrow, Angel!”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

Reblogs, likes, comments, and feedback are extremely appreciated! Please help support your content creators!

**If you notice any triggers or grammatical errors that I missed, please let me know!

#eddie munson #stranger things #joseph quinn #eddie fic #milasfics #milasstrangerthingsfics #milaseddiemunsonfics #milasthings #milasstrangerthingscontent #milaseddiemunsoncontent

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ladytanithia · 9 months ago

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AO3 Twenty Questions

I was tagged by @dirty-bosmer Tagging @lillxart @gwilin-stay-winnin @skyrim-forever and @thequeenofthewinter (even though I know she's already done this!)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

416,292

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently, only Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, although I have written a few Breath of the Wild fics (one one-shot, one short 8-chapter story, and two long fics that are unfinished). Once upon a time in junior high and high school, my friends and I wrote each other stories about Duran Duran and Def Leppard, but those are on paper and too old for anyone to care these days!

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

You know, I hadn’t really looked in a long time, so I’m surprised/not surprised to find that mostly my LoZ fics are the highest in kudos (they’ve been there longest).

Dalliances with Dunmer (86)

Link the Anachronism (55)

Larissa’s Tale: Before the Hero (46) – this pleases me; my first story with an OC and a lot of research

Khajiit: Stranger in a Strange Land (45)

Starting Over: A New Woman in a New Hyrule (38)

5. Do you respond to comments?

Absolutely! While I write for myself and have to remind myself of this daily, it’s always nice to know that someone else has seen and enjoyed my labors of love. Readers who comment are rare and precious. And at least 2 of them have become actual friends!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Dalliances with Dunmer – but that wasn’t the end of the story, just the ending of the 2nd book in the story.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

What Might Have Been – because it was MEANT to be an alternate ending to the angsty one.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not usually. When I first started putting DwD on AO3 and fanfiction, one person called it dogshit and another person went on a mean, scandalized rant about Miranja’s “fatherless behavior.” But a dear friend told me, if there’s no controversy, you’re not doing it right, and I left the flame in the comments for that purpose!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Smut/romance/erotica – various levels depending on the mood and the characters’ relationship. There’s been everything from cuddly fluff to heart-pounding romance to jizz-in-your-pants or call-the-priest filth.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I can’t answer that definitively. I started a crossover (Khajiit) between BotW and Skyrim (a friend used Skyrim to wean me off of BotW, and now I live here forever), but I haven’t even gotten to the crossover part and now it’s been 2 years since I played BotW, so we’ll see where that goes.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. I can’t imagine why anyone would, unless they were training an AI!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes, just a silly little back-and-forth scenario with my OC and a friend’s OC. It’s not on AO3, but I’m hoping it will be soon!

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Of my own, or anyone’s anywhere? Mine, of course, would be Miranja and Talvas. Elsewhere… I like to ship Kvothe and Devi in The Name of the Wind – if for nothing else but the hate sex!

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I want to finish all of them except the Link and Zelda stories, since those are moot points by now.

16. What are your writing strengths?

From others’ reviews, I’d say characterization and description. I like to get inside the characters’ minds and hearts, think up back stories for them that might have made them the way they are, make their interactions with other characters as genuine as I can. When describing a scene, I almost focus more on the sensations than the actual physical presence of, or situation of, things. What is the character seeing, hearing, smelling, touching, or tasting, and how does it make them feel? The feelings are what you remember, not the details. (Unless you’re Sherlock Holmes.)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Second-guessing myself. If someone says the story’s moving too slowly, I pick up the pace and skip the less important stuff that was kind of important to me. Then someone says I’m rushing the story, so I rewrite it and flesh it out the way I wanted it to begin with. Like, I BELIEVE I’m pretty good at re-reading and assessing the pace, but then I let someone else tell me I’m doing it wrong. Also, allowing things to distract me and keep me from writing until I don’t even remember where I was at.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

If it’s relevant to the plot, then of course! Otherwise, if it’s just idle chatter, that feels like extraneous flaunting on the author’s part. Look what I can do! Haha!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

As many things as I’ve been a fan of, I’ve never thought of writing my own fiction about them until I beat Breath of the Wild. Because I wanted so badly to know how they would turn the kingdom back around, I decided to write my own continuation.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Larissa’s Tale or Hrefna’s Crush. Shorter stories, but special to me in different ways. Larissa was kind of a self-insert character but better-looking, who got her hands and other body parts on Link before Zelda did. Hrefna’s Crush was sort of a birds-and-bees and starting to have crushes story, where Sondas Drenim is the object of her crush, and Miranja is the competition she loves but envies.

#tag game #20 questions #ao3 fanfic writers edition

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dxf · 3 years ago

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internet secret | one. (m.)

college! au pairing: kim yugyeom x reader parts: one. | two. | three. description: you are a college student in need of making easy money. without jeopardizing your future or reputation, you decide to become a sex worker on onlyfans. you soon find out that the man you hate, kim yugyeom, randomly chooses to subscribe. but he doesn’t know who you are. warnings: this series contains mature language and will include sexual topics. read at your own risk words: 2.4k disclaimer: i do remember specifically reading a series on here that is the same idea. i would give credit to the creator of the series, but i do not remember their tag on here. and i can’t find it anywhere in my likes. if possible, i would like to know the creator so i can give credit where it’s due. so if anyone knows the original author, please tell me so i can appropriately credit them.

you were the first one in your immediate family to go to college. a four-year university. your family celebrated and congratulated you, but it was difficult to grasp that you were going away. it’s been a couple of months since then. you’ve moved into a modest apartment with your money, but you knew that your waitressing job wouldn’t cover the bills. so you decided to make some extra cash through onlyfans. you knew that you could be caught quickly by the students, the staff, and even family members. but no one has really noticed because of how you do your makeup and the surplus of wigs you have. it’s your only secret.

you’ve never dreaded coming to school before you met him. kim yugyeom. he’s never liked you for some reason. you’ve always kept your distance and barely interacted with him. his three friends, bambam, jeon jungkook, and jeong jaehyun, are always surrounding him. despite barely interacting with him, he’s always hated your guts. you then decide to hate him back. it’s a bit petty, sure, but who cares. unfortunately, you’re in the same class, and some of your classes overlap with his.

“hey y/n. you’re in my spot,” yugyeom says, hovering over you. you continue to sit there, ignoring what he has to say. starting an argument in the middle of the classroom is something you rather not do. “earth to y/n? did you hear me?”

“last time i remembered, the professor didn’t have assigned seating. besides, i’ve been sitting here for the quarter. so find somewhere else to sit,” you retort.

judging the look on his face, it seems that your answer did not please him. “i don’t care if you’ve been sitting here for the quarter. i decided that i wanted to sit here today. so move.”

“no yugyeom, sit where you normally sit. and please leave me alone.”

you felt his gaze on you, even though you weren’t looking at him. causing a scene in front of everyone would be left field of you, but you still wanted to put him in his place. “fine. but you’re not getting off the hook this time,” he mutters. not once did he turn away from you. it felt like he was staring right into your soul. not like you had one in the first place. perhaps yugyeom was just a high school bully who never grew out of that phase in college. but you didn’t want to find out since you didn’t care. if he tried to bully people to get his way, so be it.

after class, you made your way back home since it was the day’s last class. thankfully, you didn’t have a waitressing shift at your other job. you’re always contemplating why you keep that job since being a cam girl made you more money. then you remembered that you needed a backup plan to tell relatives. you wish they weren’t so damn nosy all the time, but alas, you can’t control what other people do. your business is yours, so why care about others.

once you get home, the first thing you do is take a steamy shower. it’s probably your favorite part of the day. you’re not sitting for long periods in a classroom or dealing with yugyeom’s nasty attitude. you couldn’t wrap your head around why he didn’t like you. it would make sense if you guys were high school rivals, competing with each other on who’s better, but it wasn’t until this year that you met. your first encounter with him was rather nice, in your opinion. you both greeted each other and sat next to each other in history. his body language read as friendly as if he wanted to make more friends. now you realize it was just a facade he put on. hopefully, you weren’t the only one who yugyeom decided to harass. but at the same time, you didn’t care to ask other classmates if he treated them the same way. asking meant you cared and only makes you seem desperate.

since you didn’t have to go into the restaurant today, you decided to make some extra cash at home through onlyfans. coming out of the hot, steamy shower meant for great content. you snap a few photos without your face, of course, and post them on the site. because of your number of subscribers, you silence your phone for the time being. you enter the kitchen to whip yourself some food before getting ready to go live for the night. giving yourself time to eat, you announce that you’d go live in about thirty minutes. today you felt like wearing an ombre gray wig and did your makeup to match your hair. feeling like you would still be recognized by the public, you pop in some grayish-blue contacts, completing the look.

the thirty minutes were up. you eat whatever was left on your plate then put it in the sink. everything was nice and tidy in your room, with no last-minute changes. you turn on your laptop and camera, getting ready to go live. the notifications on your phone signified many people were waiting. after some time, you were finally able to start your live.

“hey everyone, i hope i didn’t keep you guys waiting for too long,” you wink at the camera. there’s an influx of people joining, hoping to get some free content and nudity. “you all know the drill. there’s a twist today! fifty dollars for thirty minutes today! only for today, and it’s limited. i wish you all good luck.” the chat starts going wild. your direct messages are exploding in hopes they get a chance for a private room with you. you ignore the ones who threaten to harass you. one of the messages catches you off-guard. kyum? you thought to yourself. it was a familiar username, perhaps someone from your school.

kyum: i’ve never done this before, and i’m a new subscriber of yours. could you explain how this private live room works?

you giggle at yourself before saying, “for those who don’t know how the live feature works, you will get a private room with me for thirty minutes. i’d prefer to know who i’m doing business with, so i’ll also ask you to turn on your webcam and microphone. it wouldn’t be fun if only one of us had a show.”

kyum: thank you for your explanation and for not singling me out. can i do one-hundred for an hour, maybe? or is that too selfish?

you: awe, you’re so sweet. i’ll make an exception for you. an hour for a hundred :)

just click on this link and i’ll be waiting for you.

you end the live and get settled into your private room. their username is similar, but you can’t pinpoint where or why you know it. trying to find out where the username comes from is giving you a headache. kyum finally joined the live, but nothing was turned on yet.

“hey there, kyum! you said this was your first time? there’s no need to be shy. everything that happens in this room is only between you and i. you don’t even have to share your name with me unless you prefer to be called something,” you reassure.

they unmuted their microphone, “sorry about that, i’ve never done this before.” that voice. one you’re too familiar with. “you can call me kyum.”

there’s no way, you thought to yourself. that voice belongs to the person you loathe most. kim yugyeom. you start to freak out a little bit in your head. what if he recognizes you? what if he starts a rumor at the school and you get expelled? judging the expression on his face, you can really tell that he’s nervous. he’s genuinely not trying to figure out your identity or anything. a flood of reassures flows throughout your body, this is your job. you can’t be freaked out by one person. there’s been plenty of times when other students have subscribed to your stuff.

seeing yugyeom so nervous gave you reassurance, but it also turned you on a little. “so kyum, what brings you in today? a whole hour with me? is there anything you have in mind?”

“some of my friends actually referred you to me,” he sighs. “i don’t really get the point to these kinds of things, but i’m always down to try anything new.”

“okay. from what i’ve seen, here are some popular options. many people like being submissive and degraded. some like the opposite and like being dominant and in control. and some just like watching me play with myself. i’m open to all kinds of ideas, as long as it doesn’t break the law.”

he chuckles to himself, “i suppose i can try being dominant. does this include name calling?” as much as he is a bully to you at school, you can’t deny how sexy he is right now.

“yes, i can call you whatever you would like me to. you can degrade me to your heart’s content. you can also decide on what toys i use throughout the session.”

yugyeom takes off his shirt, revealing his muscular self. impressed would be an understatement. this man has a gorgeous body. you can’t help but stare at the screen. “instead of kyum, i want you to refer to me as daddy. and i guess i’ll try degrading you, although it’s way out of my comfort zone.” you want to call him out on his bullshit, but you refrain.

“yes daddy,” you say in a playful tone. you could tell that he’s caught off guard by the instant obedience. a bulge started forming in his gray shorts. he sat with his arms crossed as you began grabbing toys to pleasure yourself with. you feel his eyes piercing through you. this time, it wasn’t a demeaning gaze. it’s full of lust. he sits there and imagines what he could do with you if you were with him. his own imagination allows his boner to grow. he has a nice view of your ass while you look through your collection of toys. the hundred he paid is definitely worth it.

you take out a pink vibrator and press it on your clit. to spur him on even further; you bite your lip and moan loud enough so he can hear. yugyeom reaches down his shorts and starts slowly jerking himself off. you couldn’t believe the man who hates you most is now masturbating to you. “do you like showing yourself off like this?” yugyeom grunts. “do you get a kick out of me watching you?”

your entire face turns red. people ask this all the time, but the question coming out of yugyeom’s breathy moans makes you feel nervous. “i like it when you watch me, daddy,” you barely make out. you grab a dildo next to you and start teasing your own entrance. “do you like watching me? do i make you want more of me?”

yugyeom lets out a husky fuck. it’s been a while since you’ve gotten turned on by a customer. and it’s yugyeom nonetheless. despite how terrible he’s treated you in the past, you couldn’t help but want more of him. even if he’s moaning to you through a screen.

“ah, playing yourself turns me on so much, baby,” yugyeom says in a disheveled voice. his voice is pleasing to your ears. you notice that he’s picked up his pace quite since you’ve begun. closing your eyes, you could only imagine yugyeom and his fantastic physique. how he could easily dominate you and how great it would feel. you let out a rather loud moan before snapping out of your fantasy. “it seems like someone is enjoying themselves as much as i am,” he smirks.

“can i tell you a secret?” you huff out.

“go for it.”

“you’re probably the only person who’s made me feel this way in a while, kyum.” by the expression on his face, you could tell that he was not expecting that. his paces slowed for a bit before getting riled up again. your words made him feel better about himself and turned him on even more.

yugyeom takes off his shorts and underwear, exposing him to you entirely. his cock’s throbbing, leaking of pre-cum. you decide to turn over to where you’re now in the doggy position. you can’t see what’s happening, but his moans were all you needed. a string of curse words leave his mouth before saying, “can i cum to you?”

you bite your bottom lip, holding in a whimper. audio isn’t something you were typically aroused by. men asking for these private showings often acted as if they were compensating for the lack of some things. yugyeom’s hoarse voice is different. you kind of wish that he would degrade you a bit. ooh’s and ahh’s could be heard from the both of you, almost as if he’s right there fucking you. trying to desperately reach your high with him, you up the sensitivity of your vibrator a few more notches. just by listening to him, you could tell that yugyeom’s becoming more restless. yet he won’t cum unless you say so.

“cum for me daddy,” you squeal. yugyeom’s breathing becomes irregular. you flip over to on your back so you can see him release. his face flushed with sweat dripping down. the experience is more enjoyable than you could have ever imagined. with a few more pumps, he cums all over himself. that’s all you need to reach your own peak. he mutters more curse words to himself before you release. heavy breathing is the only thing you can hear from the both of you.

he looks down at himself, realizing the massive mess he’s made. “i suppose that calls for a shower,” he chuckles. you couldn’t help but giggle with him. “thank you for tonight, i haven’t enjoyed myself in awhile.”

“no problem, kyum; hopefully, you’ll turn up for more sessions?” you ask, hoping he’d say yes.

“you want me to spend more of my money?” he jokes. your face turns bright red. “i’m only teasing you. i guess this could be my guilty pleasure. an internet secret, perhaps.”

“an internet secret, huh? okay, i can get by that.”

“my name is yugyeom, by the way. you don’t have to say kyum anymore.”

“yugyeom? it was a pleasure doing business with you,” you smile. he returns it. he accidentally touches himself, remembering how sticky he is. “i guess we both have to shower now.”

“the shower is a must. thank you again, i’ll be going now,” he waves.

you wave back, “have a goodnight, yugyeom.” then sign off for the night.

#7ornevernet #got7 imagines #got7 scenarios #got7 #ahgase #yugyeom #kim yugyeom #yugyeom imagines #kim yugyeom imagines #got7 smut #yugyeom smut #kim yugyeom smut #yugyeom scenarios #yugyeom series #kim yugyeom scenarios #kim yugyeom series

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inhuman-obey-me · 4 years ago

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Excuse me! it’s just me, this blog’s stalker because your works amazing. I kinda am in love with your demon’s nature series. I if I could request something. Could you possible do MC seeing the brothers do something that is “demonic”. Similar to what happens in the series. Thank you!!!!

Hello!! Haha, thank you -- we’re so glad you like our content! ;u;

And I’m glad that you enjoy the Demon’s Nature series! It’s been a lot of fun to write.

Sorry this took a bit! I wasn’t sure if you wanted this to be something with one of the brothers or all of them, so I ended up doing little short blurbs for each of the brothers and MC accidentally catching them doing something demonic/violent. Tried to keep them all pretty short, which was hard.

[Mod Cosmos]

MC accidentally catching the Demon Brothers being Demonic/Violent

content warning: blood/gore, body horror (especially in Beel’s), and general violence

Note: This is through the perspective of an MC that knows that the demons do their thing, but perhaps doesn't want to see it happening in front of them.

LUCIFER

You were supposed to go shopping together after meetings for the day were finished, and he had told you to just wait an additional thirty minutes so that he could finish up some business. Thirty minutes passed, but there was still no word from him, so you decide you’ll go and see what was holding that workaholic up. You soon realize that was a mistake.

You hear muffled cries, and a familiar deep voice. Cautiously, you approach the source of these sounds -- a room located off a dark corridor. You didn’t think there were any classrooms here, and your curiosity got the better of you -- so you approach the door, peeking through the crack. You recognize the intimidating silhouette and --- there’s blood. There was another figure in the room, their body limp on the ground in a puddle of red, the mighty first-born’s claws tearing through flesh. A loss of balance in your surprise results in you tumbling into the room, earning a sharp turn from Lucifer, whose crimson eyes were wide in surprise. His wings spread out to try and shield the unsavory scene from you.

“MC, you were supposed to wait for me.” His voice is stern, but there’s a gentleness to it. He sees the queasy look on your face, and decides he can put this torment to an end. With a swift motion, he fully blocks your line of sight before slitting the lesser demon’s throat. He then turns back to you, lightly embracing your body with black feathers. His voice is soft as he did not want to frighten you. “I’m sorry, you weren’t supposed to see that. Let’s get you home, shall we? I’ll make you some tea.”

MAMMON

It had just been a scratch. A low-level demon had taken a swipe at you in passing, but hadn’t been able to cut too deep. Mammon insisted he was just running off to get a bandaid after you insisted he didn’t need to go after the other demon. He said that he’d be right back--”I’m just gettin’ a bandage, I swear!”-- and told you not to move an inch. But this bandage quest was taking longer than it should have, so you go after him, pressing a loose cloth against your wound. And there he was, having cornered the offending demon. He seems to be staking the demon in the arm with a sharp metal object, speaking in a tongue you couldn’t understand.

You hadn’t even realized you had dropped the Majolish bag from your hand, not until it hit the ground with a thud and Mammon whipped around to see you there. A flash of guilt appears on his features, his eyes going between you and the lowly demon. He drops them, though he can’t resist one more swift kick to their chest before running back to you.

“I told ya I’d be right back!” He’s about to cup your face in his hands, but retracts them as he realizes they’re covered in blood. “Uh, okay, let’s go get that,” he motions to your injury, “...taken care of, yeah?” He mumbles a sorry as he picks up the bag you dropped before ushering you away from the scene, promising he’d do whatever he needed to do to make up for having to witness it.

LEVIATHAN

You’re browsing games at a shop, having tagged along with Leviathan who had been raving about a new release. At one point, however, Leviathan had vanished from your side. You now realize it’s been … quite some time, actually. You wander about the store, unable to find him anywhere. Did he step outside? You decide to check, missing the anxious glance from the clerk behind the counter.

You hear some sounds from the alley by the shop. Is that … someone choking? Worried, you round the corner to make sure whoever it was is okay -- only to see the one doing the strangling was Leviathan himself. He had his tail tightly wrapped around the other demon’s throat, and … what, what was that inky substance leaking from their eyes? Leviathan caught your shadow against the alley wall, turning to you with a slightly panicked look.

“M-MC!” His tail quickly slithered off and away from the demon’s throat, leaving them to collapse to the ground. He’s suddenly at your side, hands on your shoulders as he turns you around and makes you walk out of the alley with him, murmuring something about how the venom will take care of the rest. “S-sorry about that, MC. You look a little sick … let’s get that game and go home and play, okay?”

SATAN

You had been ambling through an aisle in the grand Royal Library, wondering what random book you should pick up next to flip through idly. Satan had wanted to spend a quiet day reading and studying together, to which you readily obliged. But it was easy to forget just how large the Royal Library was -- what floor were you on again? -- and you wonder if you should head back to where the two of you had set up. Then you suddenly hear a distant crash. It seemed to be coming from one of the meeting rooms at the back, and you couldn’t help but want to take a peek to see what had happened.

“Fuck you!” You knew that voice, and you knew that anger. There was a muffled yell, and what sounded like shattering glass. Then there’s a chilling, mocking laughter, and you can feel the goosebumps starting to cover your skin. You nervously approach the slightly ajar door, and there he is, his tail impaling another demon with its sharp ridges. Oh, there is fury burning in those eyes -- ones that shift to land on you, and that glowing fury is replaced with exasperation.

“MC!” Your name comes out as a hiss, but he quickly tosses the other demon, slamming them into the wall. “You…” He’s unsure what to say, his wrath calming at the sight of you, especially with that look on your face. “I … I’m sorry, I just had to take care of something. Please, let’s go. We can talk about this later.”

ASMODEUS

The music is loud, the drinks are pouring, and you’re having an absolutely wonderful night out clubbing with Asmodeus. You were returning from the bar with two drinks in hand for the both of you, thanking one of the security guards on your way for managing the crowd of fans that had now dispersed, only to find that Asmodeus was not to be found at your table. He had left a note-- “BRB! ♡”--with lipstick on a napkin. You waited, sipping your drink as you demon watched from your seat. Some time passes, and you realize you’ve finished your drink a bit more quickly than intended. There’s still no sign of him, so you might as well go get another.

On the way to the bar, however, you pass by what you assumed was the hall to the restrooms, and you hear a desperate “I’m sorry!” cutting through the heavy bass. Should you be concerned? Well, you decide to at least be nosy, so you slip into the hall to see what was going on -- and are met with the sight of Asmodeus holding a heart he had carved out of some poor demon’s chest. In your shock, your empty glass slips through your fingers and crashes to the floor, earning your demon’s attention.

“Oh, MC!” Despite his surprise to see you, he gives you a smile -- one that gives you chills as you see blood spattered on his face. “Ah, what a mess…” He lets the lesser demon slide to the floor, debating on what to do with the organ in hand, but hides it behind his back for now, coming over to place a quick kiss on your cheek. “Sorry about that, darling. I’m just going to go clean up, so wait for me at the table, ‘kay?”

BEELZEBUB

You had agreed to go with him to Madame Scream’s after finishing up classes for the day, but he was running late. He’s not picking up any calls, either, so you decide to go to where his last class would have been -- maybe they were just running way over, and he hadn’t realized the time? The hall is quiet, and you end up reaching an empty classroom. Walking back out, you decide to try calling him again. Ring, ring. After a moment, you realize you can hear Beelzebub’s ringtone in the distance, and you follow your ears to where his D.D.D. and ultimately he himself must be.

You weren’t prepared for what you saw next. A head of bright orange hair buried in a lesser demon’s abdomen, the sound of squelching and slurping from his feasting sounding so much more insidious than usual.

“Beel!” You can’t help but cry out his name in shock, which causes him to jolt upright -- with intestines still hanging from his mouth. Oh, you were going to be sick …

“MC … sorry, Lucifer always says I need to work on my table manners … “ He gulps down what was left hanging, but his eyes widen when it registers just who caught him in the act. “Oh, uh, guess that’s not the point, huh … “ He sheepishly wipes at his mouth with some torn cloth that you can only assume came from his victim, standing up and walking around to block your view of the mangled body. “I’ll clean this up, and then … well, we can do whatever you want to do. Sorry, MC …”

BELPHEGOR

You’re looking around for where Belphegor could possibly be napping. Beelzebub had to go to Fangol practice and asked that you make sure his twin got home, as he had seemed even more tired today than usual. He’s not in the Western Courtyard, so you head to the Southern Courtyard next. You think you remember him saying that was one of his favorite spots…

You perk up as you spot the ever-familiar cow patterned pillow, but you fail to see the demon that was usually attached to it. Peering around the area, worry starts to set in -- and then you hear a scream. It certainly didn’t belong to Belphegor, but the gears in your mind start turning and you run to where the scream came from. Of course, no one else was around here -- it wasn’t the busiest area on campus in the first place. Turning a corner, you see just what you feared -- Belphegor had his claws at another demon’s throat, his barbed tail wrapped around their body and squeezing them tight. You feel weak, the scenario a bit too close for comfort as you recall what he had done to you in the past.

“MC?” Belphegor turned to see you, his eyes wide. He must have sensed your presence at some point, or maybe your heart was pounding much louder than you realized. He drops the other demon, growling something you can’t make out to them, and then slowly approaches you. He sees you tense up, causing him to stop in his tracks. He averts his gaze, not wanting to meet your eyes as he tries to figure out what to say. “I just … had to deal with something. You … you can head on home first, if you want. I understand.”

#obey-mes-treasure #obey me #obey me!#obey me swd #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #gn!reader #gn!mc #demons being demons #the all encompassing [mod] cosmos #ask and ye shall be answered

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kkusuka · 4 years ago

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What about a insecure reader about her and Ushijima's relationship since he doesn't seem all to interested in having her around unless it's for volleyball purposes. So when she starts to drift away from him he's super confused, suddenly Tendou becomes more comfortable to sleep on at movie nights, and Reon seems to know everything you used to tell Ushijima. And he struggles internally because he doesn't know what to do. And the last straw was when you walked in holding Goshiki's hand and he walked over pushing the 1st year away with a worried/pained/anxious face shaking his head saying no because he doesn't to no what else to say but he knows it's not right.

Muddle<3

relationship: ushijima wakatoshi x reader, slight oikawa tootu x reader

words: 1.5k

synopsis: Ushijima can’t bare to lose you.

cw: insecurity

a/n: i havent written something like this in a while and i really missed it!

Ushijima Wakatoshi was not emotionless.

Simple, but not emotionless.

It was something that had to be constantly reminded before people began to truly believe he didn’t feel anything. He’s had his many licks with emotion, as anyone else would. The joy of finding the one thing he truly loved doing; volleyball. The confusion when his mother began reprimanding him for using his left hand. The overwhelming helplessness when his father walked out the door.

Butterflies when you smiled at him in the hallway, the heat in his cheeks when he saw you in the stands at one of his games. The shake in his hands when he met you at the gates and told you his feelings, very detailed in facts.

Ushijima Wakatoshi was clearly not emotionless.

So why was it he seemed so indifferent to you?

You knew he had to feel something for you, people don't empty their entire heart just because they felt like it, at least you hoped. Of course, as much as he denied, you knew that you would be on par if not second to volleyball. In a sick way; you were fine with it as long as he came back to you and let you share some of his burdens, you were happy.

But as of recently, it seemed that he couldn’t even do that.

Gone were the nights he would fall into your arms outside the gym doors because he’s been practicing for five hours straight. The walks in the park when neither of you could sleep, ones that ended in his arms on the couch watching some random food network show.

So now, as you leone the couch, void of the warmth you so desperately crave; you can't help but wonder if it was only you who felt the distance between you.

Your door unlocked- just as you thought it would. Your boyfriend slipping through the door, eyes immediately finding your body draped over the end of the sofa. He could still see the dinner you had made, glazing over the dirty dishes, proof he was hours behind when he said he’d be here.

“Tosh? Is there any way we can spend more time together? It feels like it’s been forever since we’ve done something.”

“No. Nationals is arriving soon, I cannot do anything about my schedule. We are spending time together right now.”

If Ushijima was not emotionless; how was it so easy for him to dismiss you?

Did you and Tendou always have a Wednesday movie night?

Ushijima raked his mind for the last time he’d seen this; the last time he was in his dorm on a weeknight. He knew you and the redhead were good friends, close since the first year of high school. He remembered something about a sleepover before you had begun dating and the occasional dinner at some fast-food restaurant.

He understood both your and his love for anime, and the movies alongside. But if he hadn’t known any better, he would assume that it was to two of you dating, not yourself and him.

Clearing his throat, you both glanced from your spot, huddled on the couch, inviting him to sit beside you. It was nice, though he knew nothing about what was happening on screen, something about demons and a little girl along with a boy with boar head overtop his.

The second the credits rolled, you and Tendou engaged in a conversation that he couldn’t even begin to understand. Somehow ending in another plan to go out the next night for a store opening that will have a manga that you both like.

Finally, as Tendou left, you noticed how silent your boyfriend had been since getting there.

“Would you like to come with us, Toshi?” Would he? The ice in his eyes held the answer far before he spoke.

“No. I will be practicing.”

The statement seemed like nothing. A simple retort you’ve heard so many times you could predict what he was going to say before he did. The phrase forced the memories of laying alone on the couch and sitting at restaurants staring at the clock for what felt like-- and really was-- hours a night.

You could count o one hand how many dates that he’s been early too, or even stayed the whole time. That’s even when he accepted your invitation.

Your friend had warned you that you would feel like this, abandoned and thrown to the side. ‘Why do you stay? Clearly, he isn’t treating you right, o find someone who will!’

“Just for a little? We haven’t been out for a while.” you plea, noticing how he was ready to walk away.it felt like ages since you’ve had an actual conversation.

“Y/n, don’t start right now. I am tired, and I have already told you that I am busy. Quite pestering.” pestering? Is that what you meant to him, were you a bother?

Tendou had always reminded you that Wakatoshi wasn’t good at feelings. He didn’t know how to put what he felt into words. You accepted that, you understood that emotions can be harder on some people.

But now, it wasn’t just feeling an word, it was actions. It was the missed dates he never apologized for, the charging past you after practice that he stayed overtime for. It was him turning his back on you before you could respond.

As you turn your eyes catch one of the photos you have taped to your wall, a selfie you and him took during a trip to Harajuku in May. You bought matching bracelets both with small flower charms on each, ‘a symbol of eternal love’, yeah right.

‘If you’re the only one putting in effort, it’s not a relationship, it’s desperation’

Ushijima Wakaothish may not have emotions, but he surely had one.

Jealousy.

Green and far too ugly to acknowledge.

He may not understand the butterflies when you smile or the warms when your hand locks with his, but he knows exactly what the burning in his veins is. The furrow in his brown and deeper frown than normal, he’s jealous, extremely at that.

A fact that anyone who looked at the man could see, his aura radiated exactly what he was feeling, a true sight to behold.

His mind was muddled, what right did Oikawa have to even share the same breath as you, never mind put a hand on you. His mind ran through all of the things he could possibly do right there, he could punch the brown-eye playboy, but then he would be in trouble.

He could make a big scene and yell at him, or he could do nothing, just watch as the Seijoh playing steals your attention. Suddenly he’s thrown into memory, Reon and you chatting at the lunch table. Like you’d been friends for years, the smile that was supposed to only be meant for him plastered on your face.

Then it was Goshiki and his blistered hands that you so dutifully wrapped for him, holding his hand so tenderly that Wakatoshi wondered if it felt like when you held hands with him.

Then to Tendou, your pro-claimed cuddle buddy.

Would it even be worth it to stop Oikawa? Has he already lost you to someone else?

He couldn’t let that happen, not when he still had a chance to keep you.

You were violently ripped from whatever stupid pick-up line Oikawa was spouting by two hands on your hips. Your entire body was pulled into a hard chest as the same two arms cradle you to his.

“Waka-”

“Don’t talk to what’s mine, Oikawa”

You’ve never heard him sound so angry, he practically snarled at the setter, turning the both of you and walking down the hallway to the ext before the brown-haired man ould even retort.

“Toshi are you-”

“Please don't leave me.” Another emotion you’ve never seen from the man, fear.

He was acred, losing you was the end of the world for him. What was he supposed to do if you aren’t there for him? Who will he look at in the crowd to keep him going during the fifth set? There is simply no one that can give him the rush you can.

“I know I’ve been bad, and I’m so so sorry. I can make up for the dates and we can go to the manga store and to dinner whenever you want. We can watch movies after practice and cuddle whenever! Just please don’t leave me for Oikawa!” he pleaded, taking your hands to his, holding you so tightly and yet like you were glass.

“Wakatoshi, I’m not leaving you. Please calm down, I’m not going anywhere.” You move your hands to cup his face, finally taking notice of the tears looming in his eyes.

And you smiled. The smile just for him, taking his head onto your shoulder, slightly rocking back and forth. His hands rubbing along the length of your back.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“I won’t let you.”

tags: @bakugos-cumsock @rinsangel

#ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima angst #ushijima x reader angst #ushijima wakatoshi x readder #ushijima wakatoshi x reader angst #oikawa tooru #oikawa angst #oikawa x reader #oikawa x reader angst #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru x reader angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x self insert

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wolferine · 3 years ago

Text

Heart Skips a Beat - Part 2

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Natasha faces her worst nightmare when a rescue mission goes wrong…

Warnings: Violence, blood

Word Count: 1837

Part 1

Tags: @blkmxrvel @blackxwidowsxwife @marvelwomen-simp

When Natasha sees your eyes close, she finally comes back to her senses. She squirms away from Steve, crawling under an ambulance and making her way towards you. She ignores Steve telling her to stay put and doesn’t hear Clint telling police officers the direction the bullets came from. All she can think about is bringing you to safety.

The ambulance engine is still running, causing its underside to reach temperatures that make Natasha feel like she is hiding in a furnace. She holds her breath from the fumes as she crawls to the front of the vehicle, throwing her arm out and reaching for your hand.

“Y/N!” she screams. “I’m right here! Hold on!” Her fingertips brush yours and she grabs onto your wrist tightly. You’re bigger and heavier than her, but the adrenaline gives her strength. With a massive heave, she drags you under the ambulance. You smear through the puddle of your own blood and it soaks through the back of your shirt.

There isn’t even enough room for her to lift her head, but she grabs onto both your arms, digging her elbows into the ground and crawling backwards. “I got you, Y/N. I got you,” she pants. But the lack of space and your deadweight make it impossible for her to pull you all the way through, so she backs out from under the ambulance. “Steve, help me!” she shouts.

“Move!” Steve says to her, although his shoulders are too broad to fit in the narrow gap. However, his arms are long enough to reach both of your hands, and all it takes is one big tug for you to come sliding out from the ambulance.

Your eyes fly open suddenly, awakened by the agonizing pain coursing through your shoulder like a lightning bolt. You scream, and as much as it makes Natasha’s heart hurt, she’s glad to see that you’re still alive.

“You guys need to get out of here right now!” Clint yells. “Take the ambulance!”

Steve pulls you into a standing position and wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you onto his shoulders effortlessly. You flop over him like a ragdoll, pain pulsing in your stomach when you bump against his chest.

BOOM.

A bullet shatters the sideview mirror of the ambulance.

“Go, go!” Natasha urges, putting herself between the danger and you and Steve. Steve runs with you to the back of the ambulance and flings the door open. There is no gurney, so Natasha helps him lay you on the floor and climbs in after you.

“Stay with Y/N. I’ll drive,” Steve offers, going around to the front. “Clint, we’re taking Y/N to the Quinjet! Hold the scene down!”

“Copy that!” Clint is just as concerned for your safety, but he knows you’re in good hands. Steve jumps into the driver’s seat and throws the ambulance in reverse.

BOOM.

The windshield explodes.

“Let’s go!” Natasha screams, ducking her head.

“Hold on!” Steve backs into a sharp U-turn. The tires screech as they find traction on the road to accelerate forward.

Natasha practically lays on top of you to prevent you from rolling around. From a shelf, she grabs a handful of gauze packets, tearing them open with her teeth. She rips your shirt open and presses the gauze first to your shoulder, then another to the side of your stomach. You’re completely soaked in blood and it continues to pump out of you with each heartbeat. Your face has faded to a sickly pale.

“N-Nat,” you whisper, trying to move but pinned down by the pain. “N-Nat—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” she comforts. “Just keep your eyes open for me, okay?”

You see the blood smeared on her face, her neck, and her hands, too delirious to remember that it’s yours. “A-Are you h-hurt?” you stammer.

Natasha wants to laugh and cry at the same time. You’re so in love with her that even in the face of death you don’t even think about yourself. “No, I’m fine,” she says, grabbing onto your hand and interlocking your fingers. She looks over at Steve, veering through parked cars and roadblocks. “Can we hurry it up a little?” she asks in panic, even though she knows he’s driving as fast as he can.

“I’m trying!” Steve swerves around a fire hydrant and the sudden movement jolts everyone in the ambulance. Natasha presses down on you too hard and you grunt in pain.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “We’re almost there. We’re almost there.”

Your vision fades into fuzzy shapes and blurred colors. Even breathing seems to be too much of a task for you. Steve parks behind the Quinjet and comes around to help carry you in.

“Do you need me to go with you?” Steve asks as he lays you across the back seats of the Quinjet.

“No.” Natasha shakes her head. “Stay and help Barton.”

Steve doesn’t even try to argue. “We’ll find who did this, Nat. I promise.” He goes to the controls at the front and presses a few buttons. “The coordinates for the Tower are set. You’ll autopilot all the way there. Just make sure to update the medical team on Y/N’s condition.”

“Thanks, Steve.”

“Everything will be okay.” He places his hand on Natasha’s shoulder for a moment before jogging back to the ambulance. As soon as he’s off the Quinjet, the door raises shut and the engines blast on. You’re several states away from New York, but at the speeds the plane can travel, you should be there in minutes. You just have to hang on until then.

Natasha leaves your side only to grab more gauze, pressing it against your bullet wounds to slow the bleeding. She rolls you to your side so there’s no pressure on your front or back, but grimaces when she sees that your back looks as bad as your front.

“N-Nat,” you try whispering again, but she is quick to shush you.

“Not now, okay? Just stay awake for me, Y/N.”

You’ve never felt so weak before. It feels like you were hit by a bus and ground up by its tires. Your mind processes in slow-motion—probably a side effect of the blood loss—and you already forgot how you got into the Quinjet. But the physical pain isn’t your greatest concern anymore. You just don’t want to lose your fight and leave her.

Natasha fits an oxygen mask around your face and the cool air is comforting, but you know your time is ticking away. You don’t notice the Quinjet hiss to a landing or acknowledge the team of doctors suddenly hovering over you.

“We’ll do the surgery in room six!”

“Prep a blood transfusion!”

“Two gunshot wounds from a large-caliber gun!”

The doctors move you to a gurney and wheel you off the Quinjet. Natasha holds onto your hand as they take you to the surgery room, but a doctor stops her from entering with you.

“No, Romanoff. You gotta stay out here. We’ll take it from here.”

Natasha doesn’t fight back, letting your fingers slip through hers as you disappear behind the doors.

***********************************************************************

“Any updates?” Clint and Steve finally arrive a few hours later, but you’re still in surgery.

“Not yet.” Natasha paces the kitchen anxiously. Although she found the time to wash your blood off her hands and face, she hasn’t changed out of her uniform yet.

“Nat, you should get cleaned up. Y/N isn’t going anywhere,” Clint says.

“I know, I just…I want to be there when—” She can’t finish her sentence, falling into Clint’s arms and crying into his shoulder.

“Y/N is a fighter, remember?” Clint says, rubbing her back.

“But the amount of blood—”

“Super soldiers don’t go down easy,” Steve reminds her. “Y/N will pull through. And besides, you’ll be there to help with the recovery.”

Natasha nods, pulling away from Clint and wiping her face. “I’m sorry I froze when I saw Y/N get shot—”

“What are you apologizing for?” Clint asks.

“I don’t know—I put you all in danger because I couldn’t get myself out of the way—” she hiccups.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Steve assures. “In fact, you were the one who dragged Y/N to safety, remember? I couldn’t fit under the ambulance and Clint was just sitting around like a duck—”

“Excuse you,” Clint interrupts, and Natasha smiles thinly.

“So, did you find who did this?” she asks.

“Uh—” Clint and Steve look at each other awkwardly. “Natasha, we—”

“Did you find them?” Natasha repeats with more force. Clint motions for Steve to explain.

“That’s the thing,” Steve says. “We don’t know who did this. We scoped out the whole area with the police. We went out more than a mile, but we couldn’t find anything. No shell casings, nothing.”

“Oh, so you’re telling me a ghost shot and tried to kill Y/N?” Natasha scoffs.

“No, we…” Steve tries to find the right words. “We think it was a setup, maybe like a hired assassin or something.”

“Who would want to kill Y/N?” Natasha asks.

“That’s what we need to figure out.”

Natasha knows you have a lot of baggage from your past, particularly when you were forced into illegal covert operations by the government. But it’s been a long time since then. You became your own person and changed your life for the better. Unfortunately, not everyone sees the side of you that Natasha and the Avengers do.

When Clint and Steve leave to shower and change, Natasha finally does the same. She dresses in clean clothes and curls up on your shared bed, inhaling your scent through the pillow and blankets.

Sometime later, Clint visits and knocks on the door. “Hey, Nat? Y/N just got out of surgery—” He doesn’t even get a chance to finish his sentence and is almost run over by Natasha as she hurries over to the medical bay. She doesn’t know which specific room they’re keeping you in, but it’s like she’s drawn to your very presence and finds the correct one instantly.

You lie upright in the bed, propped forward with pillows so there’s less pressure on your back. Your right arm is in a sling and your entire torso is wrapped in bandages. An IV drip leads into the veins on your hand, while a blood pouch sends blood into the vein inside of your elbow. You have an oxygen tube up your nose and looped around your ears.

“I heard the doctor went a little overboard on the anesthesia,” Clint says from behind Natasha, startling her. “You know, with the super soldier serum and everything. Y/N will probably be out of it for a while.” Natasha walks to your side and kneels, gently taking your hand. Your skin is clammy and colder than normal, but your pulse beats strongly.

“I’ll be here as long as it takes.” Natasha raises your hand, mindful of the wires around your wrist, and kisses your fingers.

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

Click here for Part 3!

AN: Thanks for the amazing support from everyone! Definitely didn’t think I’d get that kind of response, but I’m extremely grateful for you all. The next part will reveal the identity of the shooter, so I hope you’ll stick around for that. :) Peace out!

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel

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etherealluminescence · 4 years ago

Note

op, p l e a s e do this one.

gn-mc is a great fighter according to their profile, but everyone severely underestimates them, since they’re kinda short and they’re thinking it’s to human standards. as soon as they come though the three (Diavolo, Barbatos, Lucifer) realise that the number of fights have gone down, and that RAD is a lot more quiet. Apparently mc had fought all the trouble makers or scary students on a whim, and has forced like 30+ scary demons into pacts, and plans to conquer RAD’s bad students. on top of that, they’re just like “one day i’ll beat the shit out of diavolo too fair and square, and conquer him as well.” for the brothers and undateables. bonus if mc said they only started their “conquest” because someone tried to bully Luke, so they decided to just conquer the demons for him like a good? older sibling

Holy shit OP this is what I signed up for when I started doing headcanons. Recently I’ve been working on my actual novel but I am still writing these out! I decided to answer this first because the creativity just HIT me.

The part that killed me is just how they did it for luke, I love him like my own son. Also side note the goth theme on tumblr hits different I really like. WARNING - a little bit of language, and violence.

Everyone reacting to GN!MC “conquering” RAD’s demons

Lucifer

He had chosen you and noticed your profile, thinking that is was almost cute humans would consider a tiny thing like you strong.

He immediately brushed you off when he saw how close you were to the chihuahua, thinking that you too, are just like a tiny chihuahua then.

But he soon hears less and less about fights going around, and even Diavolo investigates with him, and he is beyond shocked. He severely underestimated you.

He finds out because he forced some lesser demons to talk, and they were in tears saying you forced them to make a pact with you each time they lose, and by your order they weren’t allowed to fight students anymore, or else you’d punish them.

Although it was the truth he didn’t quite believe it, so they followed you around for a day before realising it absolutely was, you kicked ass so hard, the demon was crying and unrecognisable, and you forced him into a pact while snot was even coming out his nose.

He then sees you open the door behind you and take Luke’s hand before walking away from the bloody scene you had just caused. He was slightly angry and a bit intimidated, how did you, a tiny human do that?

When he confronted you about it, you just held onto his shoulders tightly, answering with “I’ll conquer you too, I’ll conquer Diavolo, I’ll conquer all of RAD, fucker. I am going to protect this child with my life.”

He was about to argue back, possibly attack you, but according to all the students investigated, you had well over 50 pact marks by now, and Diavolo found it amusing, so you were let off with that.

He swears he won’t submit to you, and has to stay on high defense because even at the HOL you will try to attack him with murderous intent to get the pact. 0/10, wants a new exchange students.

Mammon

He was the first one you made a pact with, and afterwards he started following you around like a dog, despite literally calling Luke a dog.

He knew you were a good fighter since you kept saying so, but he kept telling you demons were another level, and you should be glad to have him.

You and Luke hung around a lot, while Mammon thirdwheeled, and finally came the day of your first fight. Mammon was ready to defend you, but you ordered him to sit as you beat the literal fuck out of the demon.

Mammon couldn’t tell if that was a lesser demon or a dismembered corpse at that point, and covered Luke due to all of their screaming in agony. When you were done, you kicked their head into a wall and demanded a pact, making him slightly pouty but happy he’s alive:

Getting the pact, you left and gave a head pat to both Luke and Mammon, telling them that they’re safe with you. Mammon didn’t like it at first but then he loved it.

It didn’t take Lucifer long to find out, and when you told him with such confidence that you’d “conquer all of RAD, including Diavolo” he was like woah!! You’re going to die for that, but you’re amazing!!

And then you didn’t die, because Diavolo found it funny, and you were only serving justice to those who cause mayhem at the moment, so it was fine. He also accidentally finds out that you rival Lucifer in power, and absolutely won’t let Lucifer punish him, because in your words, “Mammon is my property now, whore.”

You were the only person to protect him, and he absolutely loves you, he may be weaker than you, but he loves staying by your side and saying he’d beat people up for you anyways.

Leviathan

Levi never really talked to you at first, nor found out about the incidents because he didn’t go to school, but when he heard Mammon talking about it he thought he was exaggerating a lot.

Even Lucifer said you were strong, but he refused to believe it at first, even denying the pact marks you had. Until you beat the life out of Levi during the TSL games.

He got angry at you and tried to kill you, so you ripped him apart, quite aggressively. He swore his tail had bite marks in them, and that he couldn’t see out of his left eye for a week. The icing on top was you demanding a pact from him. He finally believed.

After you calmed, he made a pact with you, and was now afraid of you, until you comforted and apologized to him, telling him he did try to kill you first.

When Luke comes over one day, you invite him into Levi’s room, no permission, and start to talk, and when Levi tries to make fun of him, Mammon shuts his mouth.

“Luke is the whole reason they decided to start their conquest, the whole school knows that by now!” Mammon shushed him, and Levi began feeling a little jealous that the chihuahua got more of your attention than him. But when he hears that you ALSO want to conquer Diavolo, he’s just like !?!!??? You’re crazy.

But more than that you’re like some over powered anime protagonist who got sucked into a different world with over powered plot armor, Levi thought, and he really liked it.

Begs you to come with him when he’s trying to buy stuff in lines, so anyone who tries to cut gets the life beat out of them when they do.

Satan

Absolutely member #2 of your fan boy club, Diavolo being the first one in it.

He thinks oh yeah, you can fight sure. But when he witnesses it he absolutely loses his mind. A human shouldn’t be that strong, but the way you force a pact mark from them, and even defended the tiny chihuahua before leaving, while being tiny yourself, he was interested in how your body worked.

But what really excited him and made him like you is when Lucifer entered the room and you sent a flying kick to him, putting up a harsh fight as well, before you break the table when you were knocked into it, calling it a tie.

“I swear one day I’ll conquer you and force you to make a pact with me. I’ll wipe that smug look off your face, fucker. And once I do that, I’ll beat the shit out of your prince, too.” You spat, getting up and holding your back.

So now you went from protecting the chihuahua to devildom domination? Basically asks you to make a pact with him so you can use him to fight Lucifer. When you tell him you want a fair fight, and that you’ll beat Lucifer yourself, he’s just so excited because you held your own for five minutes, and Lucifer can’t even kill you!

Literally tags along each time you decided to fight Lucifer and cheers you on so hard. Will purposely try to make you and Lucifer run into each other at the halls, so you automatically try to hurt him.

Please tell him not to eat so much popcorn, we know the show is good but it’s like he has boxes of them now knowing you’re hating? on Lucifer like him.

Asmodeous

Has absolutely freaked out and began cowering in a corner, shaking, begging you anywhere but the face.

He came to watch the show of you beating up a demon, not realizing it was you at first. When he did, he was so shocked and got closer to make sure.

You mistook him for the demon’s crew who made fun of look and tried to attack, seeing red. He held his own for a minute, before you almost rip off his wing in one swing.

He’s begging for forgiveness like the demons, despite not doing anything wrong at all. When you calm and realize it’s just human, you make the other demons unrecognizable and get your pacts, before making your way to him.

He’s just crying not his face, while you just say “Pact mark.” Pointing out you won fair and square against him, too.

He gives it too you beyond willingly, just not his face, he doesn’t even think twice. Nodding, you take Luke’s hand and leave.

He has to leave too for then next class, but then sees Lucifer, Diavolo, and Barbatos confront you.

Is afraid for you but then you literally punch Lucifer and tell him you’ll conquer him, and then turn to Diavolo and declare his ass as your own, making Asmo secretly swoon but worried.

Actively tried to avoid you while at the HOL for awhile, but noticing your docile nature when you’re not fighting, he felt a little comfortable with you, and right now his only concern is how many callouses your hands are getting from punching thick skulls.

Beelzebub

This man wanted to believe you when you said you were a strong fighter in passing conversation with him, but he just couldn’t. You were the tiniest creature he’d ever seen, and he was so sure you’d crush under one of his hugs.

He heard you were protecting Luke from the whispers of lesser demons, but he didn’t think it was through fighting.

This all changes when on his way to practice, he watches you beat up one of his teammates so hard they’re crying, they’re so huge, and yet lost to you, and the fact you sent him flying and cracked a wall, by one kick.

When you said you wanted a pact mark, he was shocked the rumors were true. On top of that, Luke was near by holding a cake he planned to give Beel as thanks for something he did for him earlier that week.

He watched you wipe the blood off your hand and pat Luke’s head, with a gentle smile. When he came in, Luke ran to him and gave him the cake, and he learned everything.

You were the one subduing the demons around here, big or small, and even protected Luke. He even learned that you challenge three totally strong demons, Lucifer, Barbatos, and Diavolo.

He totally believed you could do it now, with what he just witnessed. He’s seen his fair share of fights with egotistical demons thinking they’re so tough just because they play sports, and he’s seen guys at the gym, you were beyond that.

You had speed, strength, and great perception. Wasn’t even mad that practice was delayed, and began going to the gym with you, and will happily play with Luke too, another older sibling figure for Luke.

Belphegor

When he exited the attic and tried to kill you he watch his brothers grab popcorn from the sidelines, as they said to him enjoy dying.

He was confused at first, but then got the LIVING HELL beat out of him, oh how the turns have tabled. He intended to murder you, but you nearly killed him.

You forced a pact out of him as well, kicking him repeatedly where the sun doesn’t shine until he agreed, understanding why even Lucifer stood back. It’s not because they wanted you dead, it’s because they couldn’t stop you.

When he gains consciousness later, he finds out Lucifer is the only brother you haven’t made a pact with, and that you have over 80 pacts at this rate, and that you even planned to conquer Diavolo.

He thought it was stupid at first but after seeing you fight Lucifer, with no cheats just your normal hands for combat, while Lucifer was in demon form struggling, he understood he really liked you.

“Soooo... when are you beating the shit out of Diavolo?” He asks, and he also nearly makes the mistake of calling Luke a dog before Beel puts a hand over his mouth.

Jaw nearly drops and he loses his mind when he finds out you only started beating the shit out of people to make Luke happy.

Diavolo

This man just fucking cackles, like after watching you fight, he’s just in full tears from laughing. He’s just clapping, and telling you that’s amazing.

When Lucifer asked why you did it, you stood tall despite your short stature, and looked him in the eye with no fear. “I’ll beat each fucker who approached Luke, I’m going to defend him with all my fists got, and if you get in my way, I’ll do the same to you.” You said, before turning to Diavolo.

You walked up to him, and pulled his tie down so he could meet your eyes, and declared, “I’ll even beat the shit out of and conquer you too, one day, prince. I’ll be the ruler of this place one day. Prepare yourself for that day, until then, I won’t stop:”

This makes him laugh, not belittling you, but telling you he can’t wait, and he hopes that day comes soon, because he wants to fight you as well, and he hopes you hold nothing back against him.

He loves how strong you are, he loves how you want to protect Luke, he loves that you only did it to protect, and didn’t even bother to summon a demon, you did it with your own style. That took guts, confidence, and the fact you told him of all people with that confidence you would one day conquer him, his heart fluttered.

He would definitely start watching over you, and probably fan boy over you. The first person to ever force the prince of the Devildom to lower himself; and they even declared they would be the one to make him their’s, by forming a pact mark. It was honestly amazing to him, and he likes it.

Barbatos

He really should of seen this coming, a new fighting student, who was clinging to Luke protectively, and suddenly all the bad demons were being silenced.

Guess there’s no need for his torture chamber anymore, you’re much more feral than whatever he does, he just needs to sick you on them.

Joking aside, he doesn’t really take it too seriously. It’s great you can get a lot of pacts, and defend yourself, and even want to conquer Diavolo by forcing him to give you a pact mark, but he knows you’re still no match for him yet.

To get to Diavolo, you’d need to beat him up, and he’s a bit of a harder fight than Lucifer, by that he means a lot, he won’t even flinch if you bite his tail when he grabs you by it and puts you out the room, with a smile on his face.

It’s become a game at this point for the both of you to try and fight each other, you trying hard to get a pact mark out of him. He even offered it to you at one point, but you told him you wanted to win it fair and square, and he’s just in love with you even more because of that.

He’s pretty much a dad to Luke, so he appreciates how kind you are to him, and appreciates how you have your own set of morals for fighting, making him know that if Diavolo were to ever make a pact mark with you, it would all be fine.

Solomon

“Hey... are you sure you’re not actually the demon?” Solomon asks you, looking at the sheer amount of pact marks on your body, one week after coming to the devildom.

He’s seriously impressed by you, considering how easily you beat up demons without any weapons, magic, or underhanded tactics. You simply use your fists and legs, sometimes your head, but you get the job done scarily.

He’s even more impressed when he finds out the reason, you were visiting purgatory hall and Luke was being rather loud. “I can’t believe that’s the 7th demon this week that fought with you! You’re just so cool, you’re so strong! Thank you for protecting me!”

Probably wants to try to enhance your strength with a potion, and offers it to you when you try to have your epic showdown with Diavolo, claiming he is the boss and Barbatos and Lucifer were his right hand men who dragged Luke into this mess.

You decline though, wanting it to be fair and square. Truly admires yet fears you. But then again, i don’t think you stabbing him would making him afraid of you. I don’t think this man can feel it at all, unless it was you dying.

Anyways, he’s delighted to ask the demons you make pacts with to make pacts with him as well.

Simeon

Nearly loses his mind at first. He’s so concerned if you’re hurt,, but then he’s just like wait what.

Luke had told Simeon all about it when he reached purgatory hall, about how you beat up a demon for him, and even promised to always protect him. Simeon is really distraught you may of been hurt protecting Luke while he was busy.

But then Luke tells him about how you forced a pact mark out of the demon, and you didn’t even break a sweat, and that is was the coolest.

He doesn’t tell Diavolo about this thinking it was just a one time thing, and tries to watch over you two more. But then he sees you and he’s literally just frozen.

Humans aren’t that powerful right? And when Lucifer Diavolo finally confronts you about it, he watches as you just stare him down and declare that you’re going to conquer him as well, to make Luke feel happy and safe in devildom.

Needless to say Simeon is extremely panicked about your well-being, but extremely happy Luke is protected by someone so kind to him. Probably doesn’t approve of the violence, but Luke adores you.

Luke

The first time you met him you told him not to worry about the demons, because if they ever bullied him you would beat the life out of them.

He thought you were just saying that, and he said that he too would protect you, which you found extremely adorable and nearly went “I’m taking this kid home with me and he’s my child now.” not that anyone could physically stop you.

He found out you were actually sincere about it when the two of you were alone in RAD’s hallway, trying to leave for purgatory hall since he invited you over.

You two were stopped by a demon, who tried picking a fight on easy prey, and it was quite frankly, the worst mistake of his life, ever.

You beat the LIVING SHIT out of him, and even told Luke to look away, because this man was beyond recognisable, because you were so small you could easily duck and move fast, so the demon didn’t even land one hit on you.

Just because he’s a demon, doesn’t mean his stamina is forever you figured, and beat him up, forcing him to make a pact with you. You had one with Mammon already, so you knew how it worked, especially knew you could have multiple due to Solomon.

When it was over, you told Luke he could look, and there was zero damage to you and he was just like woah!! You’re so cool! And from then on you stuck close to him, literally demolishing any demon he thought looked scary, or just stared at him for too long.

When Diavolo comforted you about it, you stared him dead in the eyes saying “I would literally beat the shit out of you for Luke, so you better hope he starts liking the devildom soon, fucker.”

Diavolo laughed and Luke insisted you didn’t have to go that far, but you just patted his head and said it was okay.

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #obey me hc #obey me headcanons #obey me headcanon #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me Satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me Simeon #obey me Luke

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fanficimagery · 4 years ago

Text

When Enough is Enough pt. II

Imagine being let down one too many times by your best friend, only to end up making some new ones in the process.

Words: 8.5K Author’s Note: Okay so some of you asked to only be added to part 2 of this while others asked to be added everything Bucky.. and a few others weren’t exactly clear. So if you want to be tagged in any future Bucky related imagines please let me know so I can get your blog name written down on my list.

Tags: @aya-fay @70s-chic @sipsteacasually @kaitlyn2907 @scarlettwitch99 @thingsforimagination @mimilh @felicityofbakerstreet @eternalharry @eliwinchester99 @intothesoul @wintershadowkat @b1sexualtonystark @meredeph @miszswan

The Sunday before you are to return to work, you sleep in until nine in the morning. Your thoughts are immediately on Bucky's impending arrival and you couldn't help the butterflies that took flight in your stomach. He's a friend, just as all the others are, but you couldn't help but notice just how attractive this new friend of yours is. But not only does his attractiveness draw you in, his easy-going teasing and protectiveness does too. However, Bucky Barnes is still a man trying to find his footing in this world after all that's been done to him and finally getting his name cleared, and if he finds comfort with you then you're going to try your best and be the friend he needs.

So since you're not dressing to impress, you dress in your favorite lazy outfit after your shower- leggings, sports bra, a faded sleeveless band tee with the arm holes having been cut down to around your ribs, and a pair of socks. Damp hair gets gathered up into a messy bun and you walk around your apartment to pick up some things you had unknowingly left out.

You've skipped breakfast, so when there's a knock on your door and you open up to find Bucky standing there, you groan in relief. He raises both hands with paper bags hanging from each. "I come bearing sushi. Wanda let it slip how much you love it."

"Yesss." You step back, quickly taking in his own comfort outfit of sweatpants and a plain black t-shirt under an opened jacket. "Did you bring plenty of wasabi? And you can just kick off your shoes anywhere."

"Of course." He hands you the bags so he can kick off his shoes and strip out of his jacket before hanging it up. You don't know why, but seeing him in a short sleeve shirt makes you happy, knowing full well he was weird about his metal arm being out in the open. "And plenty of dipping sauce as well. Wanda was more than happy to give me advice."

"Wanda, huh?" You chuckle, leading the way to your kitchen. "You actually told her where'd you be?"

"Apparently I looked very pensive this morning. She asked and I figured she was a better confidant than Steve or Sam who would have made a big deal about us hanging out."

"True." Setting the bags down, you let him empty them while you head to the fridge. "Beer?"

"Yeah."

Grabbing him a beer and yourself a can of Cola, you return to the table and your eyes widen at the sight of all the sushi. "Damn, Barnes. That's a lot of sushi."

"Don't act like you won't eat half of it."

You laugh as you take a seat, handing him his beer and pulling a few trays to your side of the table. You take a container of wasabi and dipping sauce for yourself, and grab a pair of chopsticks to start digging in.

You moan in delight at your first taste, happily shimmying in your seat before taking another. Eventually, you ask, "So what are you going to do when I'm back at work and I can't keep you entertained by getting shitfaced?"

Bucky grins around his mouthful of food before chasing it down with a swig of his beer. "We actually got a mission comin' up so I'll be leavin' around mid-week."

"Well that sucks." You sigh. "Now who am I going to send random pictures to when I have downtime at work?"

He grins. "You can still send them to me. I just won't get back to you until after the mission's complete."

"Yeah, yeah."

The two of you continue to eat- Bucky dodging Steve's texts about where he is and when he's coming back, and you sending the middle finger emoji over and over to Wanda who keeps wondering how your date is going. Then once most of the sushi is gone and Bucky puts what little is left into the fridge, the two of you head to the living room. You immediately flop onto the couch as Bucky takes the plush recliner, only for you to hear him moving the chair into its reclined position seconds later.

"Oh. I definitely need to get one of these."

You laugh as he snuggles down and you pick up the remote to bring up your streaming services. "Anything you've been meaning to watch?"

"Not really. Just show me your favorites."

You start off with some humor by playing the Goonies. It's a movie that no matter how many times you've seen it, it always seems to make you laugh. And it seems Bucky is not immune either when they make Chunk to the truffle shuffle. Titanic plays afterwards, but only after making sure Bucky found it somewhat interesting after reading the movie summary to him. He is interested from beginning to end and doesn't even laugh at you when you shed a few tears for the old married couple who opt to stay in their bed as the room floods.

When a break is needed, you head off towards the bathroom as Bucky finishes off the leftover sushi. Both of you check your phones and read each other the missed text messages from Steve and his worrying behavior.

"Wanna tell Steve to fuck off via video message?" Bucky takes a moment to think on it before he grins and nods. "Excellent. Sit in the recliner. I'm gonna crawl up all in your business. That okay?"

"Yeah."

As Bucky gets comfortable in the recliner, you sit on the armrest before sliding down sideways onto his lap. You bring up the camera app on your phone and switch it to video, sliding your right arm behind Bucky's neck while holding your left arm out to capture the two of you on the screen. "Ready?"

"Sure, doll."

You chuckle quietly and then smirk mischievously as Bucky relaxes his expression into his best resting bitch face. After you hit record, you say, "Hey Rogers, stop being a little bitch and sending us text after text. I'm tryin' to fuck your best friend here." Bucky's expression cracks as he barks out a laugh and you turn to face him while grinning. You share a laugh with him before facing the camera once more. "Only joking, but seriously stop buggin' us. I promise to send him back in one piece."

As you prepare to send the text to Steve, Bucky says, "You're terrible."

"Whatever. Admit it, you adore me."

"Occasionally."

You huff another laugh as the video message finally sends. You and Bucky both watch as the delivered status turns to read, and then those three little dots appear as Steve starts typing his reply.

"Tell Bucky to wrap it before he taps it." You burst out laughing at Steve's text, Bucky's rumbling laughter only fueling yours even more. "God I hate your best friend sometimes." And before you climb off Bucky's lap, because honestly you were getting a little too comfortable, you send Steve a few middle finger emojis before deciding on a third movie to watch.

The third movie you choose is one that never fails to make you laugh- Bridesmaids. You had a moment of hesitancy because of the sex scenes, but you figured they were ridiculous enough that it wouldn't be awkward. Thankfully you're correct and you get the added bonus of hearing Bucky's laughter again during Megan's scenes, especially when they get food poisoning and are all fighting for the bathroom.

You and Bucky take yet another break after the film, just stretching and finding something to drink.

"So what's the verdict, Barnes? Are you enjoying the films?"

He grins. "Your taste is all over the place, huh? That last one we watched was raunchy."

"But hilarious! You need to watch the Hangover trilogy, but you definitely need to watch that with Steve and then watch him squirm at the pictures that roll with the credits."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Jurassic Park holds his attention and he can't help but comment how stupid one has to be to replicate dinosaur DNA and then open up a park with live dinosaurs. You laugh, but don't bother commenting. You'll tell him later there are more movies involved, with yet another idiotic man who felt he could get the park up and running once more.

It's getting dark, but it's still a little too early for dinner. One more movie and then you'll order or go out and pick something up.

"So this last one for the day is a movie that's directed more towards the female viewers, but you did ask for my favorite films and Practical Magic is my absolute favorite."

"Well put it on, doll."

As you press play on Practical Magic, you quickly grab a throw blanket and snuggle in. Instead of watching Bucky, you watch the film and mumble certain quotes to yourself. The magic scenes always bring a soft smile to your face just as Gary's confession to Sally of I wished for you too breaks your heart, and Sally and Gillian's heartfelt sister moment makes you cry.

Afterwards, Bucky hums in thought. "So that's your favorite?"

"Absolutely." You tell him. He's watching you curiously and you grin. "If I show you something, you promise not to laugh?"

"I'll try."

"Whatever. That's good enough for me." Standing up, you walk towards him and kneel, and tell him to pull your shirt sideways by the armhole next to your left arm. There on the back of your left shoulder and forever etched into your skin is a salt shaker, a rosemary plant, a lavender plant, and a heart. You then rattle off one of your favorite quotes to him. "Always throw spilt salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Plant lavender for luck and fall in love whenever you can."

Bucky chuckles as you get up, retaking your spot on the sofa. "You really are a fan of the movie."

You nod. "As a little girl, I was fascinated by magic. I thought I'd grow out of it, but I only grew more fond of it. And then I found Practical Magic and it had a bit of everything I adored."

"So what's the one scene that just gets you every time?"

"Ugh. You're making me choose?!" You feign being distraught and he grins. As you think about it, you keep coming back to two scenes in particular. "So there's two," you tell him, "and I'm not choosing between them." Bucky nods, awaiting your answer. "Gillian's possession. When Sally calls together the other mothers who were mean to her in order to make a temporary coven to save her sister, and Gillian begs Sally to just let her ghost ex have her."

Bucky hums. "That was a bit sad, doll. I saw you shedding a few tears over that."

"Mhm. And the other scene is when Sally comes clean to Gary and admits that she did a spell as a child to call forth her perfect love thinking it wouldn't exist, only it did. When Gary tells Sally that he wished for her too, it just breaks my fuckin' heart."

"Let me guess, you were one of the girls who cast her own spell after seeing that scene." You stay quiet for a moment and the second you feel your face heat, Bucky laughs. "What did you wish for?"

You groan quietly. "If I tell you, you can't laugh!" He only smiles in response and you know he won't drop it until you tell him. "Fine. So even though I knew it would never work, I gathered the weirdest objects and wished for a significant other with dark hair and colored eyes. He had to be protective and funny and love me for me. Simple."

For some reason you can't seem to meet Bucky's gaze then and you feel awkward the longer the silence stretches on.

"So dinner?" He asks.

"Oh god, yes please. Pizza and wings?"

"Sounds good."

You have the nearby pizza place on speed dial, so after finding out Bucky's preferences you make the call and place the order. It's going to be about a thirty minute wait, so you fill the time sending Steve pic after pic of Bucky who's none the wiser as he scrolls through his own phone and adding the most asinine comments to each picture. Steve thinks it's absolutely hilarious.

Then when the pizza and wings arrive, you beat Bucky to the door and thrust several bills at the delivery boy. He's more than happy with his tip and you hurriedly wave him off before shutting the door. You laugh at Bucky's disgruntled expression and then place everything on the table while gathering a beer for both you and him.

"Don't let me have more than two," you tell him while handing him his own bottle of beer.

Bucky agrees and the two of you dig into your own personal pizzas and boxes of wings once you're situated around the table. As you're eating, Bucky asks about what other movies you hold near and dear. You fill him in on a few others and he hesitantly puts it out there that he'd be up for another movie marathon when you both have a day off. You agree that that's doable.

Halfway through dinner, as you and Bucky are chuckling over the thought of making Steve sit through Bridesmaids, there's a sound of glass breaking from your living room and a muffled curse. The two of you immediately cease making any type of noise and Bucky is up with a gun in hand.

"Where the hell did that come from?! You hiss.

The telltale sound of a window then sliding shut can be heard.

"Shut up and get behind me."

The authority in his voice makes you freeze and your heart flutter at the same time, and you have to mentally scold yourself before you quickly do as he says. You follow Bucky towards the living, ready to duck at the ready, only to sigh and roll your eyes when you see who it is.

Bucky stands tall and lowers his gun. "Parker." You can practically hear the annoyance in his voice.

"Mr. Barnes?" Peeking around his shoulder, you raise your eyebrow at your best friend who's been too busy for you and is now frowning at Bucky. When he catches sight of you, he asks, "What's going on?"

"Uh, well we were having dinner until we thought someone was breaking in."

"Alone?!"

Your brow furrows at Peter's incredulousness, only for him to realize you're not impressed with his tone. You raise an eyebrow at him and cross your arms over your chest. "Did you need something?"

"Oh, um, yeah." He shifts from foot to foot, gesturing to his face where there's a scrape on his cheekbone. "My ribs took a beating too. Can you patch me up?"

"Sure." You sigh. "Why not."

Before you can leave to go to the bathroom to get the supplies you need, Bucky says, "I'll just get out of your way then."

You stop and face him. "What? But we haven't even finished our food. It won't take me long."

"It's fine, doll." He grins when he realizes you're trying to get him to stay. "You gotta hit the hay early anyway. We'll talk soon."

You hold his gaze for a moment longer, sighing when he won't budge. "Well at least take your food with you. No use in it going to waste."

Bucky nods and heads back to the kitchen, collecting his food. You watch him and then follow him to the door, holding his food while he bends over to lace up his boots. Once he retakes his food and you open the door, he thanks you for the time away from the tower and disappears down the hall.

Shutting the door and then heading back into the living room, you tell Peter to get back into his regular clothes so you can get to his ribs while you go gather your medical supplies.

Meeting Peter back in the living room and setting everything down on the coffee table, he says, "So you and Bucky-"

"Don't." You pick up the peroxide bottle and soak a cotton ball in it. "Bucky and I are friends."

Peter manages to keep his mouth shut as you clean the scrape on his cheek and place a small bandage on it. Then when you've checked his ribs and tell him he just needs to ice them, he mumbles, "Friends who apparently lick each other." You snort and think nothing of his sullen tone, but when you look at his face you see he's actually being quite serious. There's no chuckle or boyish grin and for a moment you're absolutely floored at his attitude. "I don't think I'm comfortable with Bucky being alone with you in your apartment."

"Are you- are you kidding me?" You huff and take a step back from him. When Peter just continues to frown, you shake your head at him. "First of all, I'm an adult woman who can make her own decisions."

"I know, but-"

"I'm not finished!" You snap. Peter's eyes widen, but he smartly ceases talking. "I am allowed to have friends whether you like them or not. We have a pact, Petey, and since I'm still abiding by it I would hope that you would too."

"Yeah, but that's for significant others!"

"Significant others or friends, it doesn't matter. And you should be grateful I've kept my mouth shut when it comes to you and Leslie because let me tell you, I've been biting my tongue a lot these past few weeks. Bucky and the others have stepped up since you've abandoned me, so you have absolutely no room to tell me that you're uncomfortable with him or any of them being around me."

"Leslie isn't that bad and I have not abandoned you." You snort, but don't bother opening that can of worms even further. He finally gets annoyed with your quietness. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"You're here because you needed a bandage. Tell me, Peter, where are you going after here? Where are you going after making five minutes of small talk and calling it a night?" He opens his mouth and then snaps it shut, shrugs, and you shake your head at him once more in disappointment. "Exactly. Just go, Peter. I'm so over this conversation right now and I have work in the morning."

"Wait, but we promised we'd never leave a conversation where we were still annoyed with each other!"

"And we also promised we'd never judge who the other decided to spend time with, but here we are." He frowns at you. "Go to your girlfriend, Peter. We'll talk again in another few days or weeks or whenever. I don't care right now."

Peter stands there, gaping, before he pulls himself together and makes his way back towards the window he had crawled through. He glances at you one last time, but you merely keep staring until his mask encompasses his head once more and he lifts the window before taking his leave.

As the window shuts behind him, you sag in on yourself and your breathing stutters in your chest as your eyes fill with tears. You've never been this angry at Peter and the fact that he thinks it's okay to ignore you until he needs something and then has an opinion about who you hang out with was just too much for you to let slide.

You quickly gather everything from your coffee table and return it to its rightful place in your bathroom, and throw away the trash. Your appetite is long gone, so you put up what's left of your food and then head to your room to gather some clothes so you can shower and get into bed.

By the time you've crawled into bed, you're still a bit annoyed. So grabbing your phone, you pull up your text messages and click on Bucky's thread.

To Bucky: Well that was a shit show. I don't think I've ever made Petey leave my apartment while we were still angry with each other.

From Bucky: I'm sorry, doll. Anything I can do?

To Bucky: If he gives you attitude, get a non-serum individual to punch him. You, Steve, and probably Nat will send him flying into the wall.

From Bucky: If I remember..

To Bucky: Well I mean if you forget, I won't complain. I'll probably laugh when he comes crying to me.

From Bucky: You're a terrible human being.

To Bucky: Whatever. You adore me just the way I am. And now I should get some shut eye. I'll talk to you soon. Night, Sarge.

From Bucky: Night, sweetheart.

For the next couple of weeks, you keep yourself busy with work. Bucky and a few others do go on a mission as he said they would, so you keep your texts to a minimum of three each day- a good morning, a random story from that day, and a good night. They're gone for four days and in those four days you've not heard from Peter. The only reason you know he's not completely done with you is the fact he likes your posts that you put up on social media.

But since you're not currently speaking to your best friend and are too exhausted to hang out with anyone else, you're in a bit of a funk and completely caught off guard one evening when the patient a police officer brings in smacks you right across the face. You had been trying to insert an IV into his arm when he completely lost his shit, and then you were hit so hard that you were strewn across the gurney behind you. And in your vulnerable position, a fistful of your hair had been grabbed and yanked right before the police officer had intervened and pulled the patient off of you.

You had been given a bit of time to ice your cheek before you had to get back to work, but your face and scalp were hurting you the entire time.

On your way home, however, you're surprised to receive a call from Pepper. You're heading towards your apartment complex when she invites you to dinner there at the tower since Darcy is finally back in town, and you hate to do it, but you're not exactly up to be around such a rowdy bunch. So you apologize to Pepper and ask her to apologize to Darcy for you, and take a rain check. Immediately she knows something is wrong, but you only tell her you had a rough night at work and all you want is a hot shower and to crawl into bed. She hesitates but wishes you well, and the call ends moments later.

When you get home, you waste no time in locking the door behind you and heading straight for your bathroom. You strip down and take the hottest shower your body is capable of handling, and let yourself relax in the steam-filled room. Afterwards, as you're drying off, you gently dry your hair since your scalp is still sensitive and then get dressed in some of your comfort clothes.

Then heading out into the kitchen, you find some leftovers in your fridge and heat those up, tiredly sitting at your kitchen table and digging in. Just as you're done with your food and heading towards the living room, someone pounds on your apartment door. You sigh, hoping they go away, and have only plopped down onto the sofa when a familiar gruff voice speaks through the wood.

You quietly groan as Bucky tells you he knows you're there and you get up to open the door for him. He's on the verge of knocking again when you swing the door open. "Hey. Pepper said-" He trails off as he takes in your appearance, expression going slack before his jaw clenches in anger. "Who?"

You shake your head, gesturing him inside as you turn around and walk towards your sofa. You hear your door click shut before the footsteps follow you. "Work got a little hectic. No need to hunt down anyone, Barnes. I'm fine."

"Half your face is bruised, doll. You are not fine."

"It's all part of my job." You shrug and plop down onto the sofa once more. Pulling a blanket over your lap, you stare up at your friend. "There will always be a drunk and disorderly patient. I was just lucky he didn't do more damage."

Bucky frowns, but he doesn't push you on it. Instead, he walks over and sits next to you, angling his body towards yours when gentle fingers grasp your chin to angle your face more towards him. "What exactly happened?" He asks as his eyes dart over every inch of your face.

"Some petty criminal did some damage to his head in the back of a patrol car. Police officer brought him in and he seemed pretty docile up until I jabbed him with the IV. He got the drop on me. It happens." Gentle fingers brush along your cheekbone and you flinch. Tears sting your eyes as you sniffle. "I'm fine."

"Just because you keep sayin' that doesn't mean it's true."

Your bottom lip wobbles at his words and you lose the battle with keeping the tears at bay. The moment they fall, Bucky pulls you into a hug and you cry into his shoulder. "Dammit," you mumble. "See what you started!"

Bucky chuckles and he holds you a few moments longer, rubbing a hand up and your back to offer a semblance of comfort. When he lets you go, you fall back against the sofa cushions and wipe the tears away with your blanket. "So what are we watching?" He asks while settling in next to you and draping an arm behind your head.

"Shouldn't you go back to the tower and have dinner with the rest of them? I'm-"

"If you say you're fine one more time, I will drag you back to the tower and let Steve motherhen you."

You sigh. "Low blow, Buckaroo."

"And for that horrendous nickname, you've lost the privilege of choosing what we're going to watch."

You laugh and don't bother arguing with him about it as he leans across you to snag up the remote. When he settles back down and you snuggle into his side, you huff a small laugh when he settles on TLC which is showing 90 Day Fiancé.

"Why this show?" You ask.

"Because it blows my mind that some people are so oblivious and can't see that their chosen partner is only in it for the green card."

As you let his reasoning sink in, you can't help but giggle as you picture Bucky sitting in his own apartment and bad mouthing the TV because he didn't like the decisions the people were making in their love life. You watch along with him, cringing at the more obvious couples that are only headed for future divorce and smiling when one of the couples is actually in it for love.

You manage to almost watch a complete two hour episode when there's a knock on your door, but you're too comfortable to get up and answer it.

"You get it," you say as you nudge Bucky.

He nudges you back. "It's your apartment."

"Yeah, but I don't feel like getting up."

"You could have at least come up with a better excuse."

You grin, finally taking your eyes off the screen and glancing up at Bucky. "M'too tired. Brain's not working fast enough." He continues to give you a deadpan stare until you jut out your bottom lip. "Please?"

The second Bucky's lips twitch, you know you've won. He huffs and roughly pushes himself up off the sofa as if answering the door is a hardship, and you go back to watching TV. At least until you hear a familiar voice stammer, "Uh, h-hey Mr. Barnes. Is Y/N home?"

Your gaze snaps towards the door where Peter is standing out in the hallway, hands in his pockets as he sheepishly stares at Bucky. The man in question turns and raises an eyebrow at you as if saying what do I do and you give him a terse nod to let him know it's okay. Bucky steps aside and Peter readily walks in.

"I should be getting back to the tower," Bucky suddenly says. "You kids have fun."

This time it's your turn to give him a deadpan stare and he smirks right before slipping his boots back on. Then as soon as they're laced up, he's walking out the door and shutting it behind him. Peter, who hadn't stopped staring at the intimidating man, finally turns to look at you. And when he does, his eyes widen.

"What happened to your face?!"

You sigh. "I'm fine. Just had a little incident at work."

"And Mr. Barnes was what? Comforting you?"

"First of all, can you stop calling him Mr. Barnes? You two avenge together and what not. I'm pretty sure that means you're on a first name basis." Peter grins as he takes a seat on the recliner near you, shrugging. "And Bucky was here because when I turned down dinner at the tower, Pepper figured something was wrong. Bucky took it upon himself to check in."

"So are you two like a thing or something?" He wonders.

"We're just.. friends," you say. "For some unknown reason we clicked and we're comfortable in each other's company."

For a moment Peter doesn't say anything, nor will he meet your gaze, but then he's looking at you and sighing. "I'm sorry." You blink at him, surprised to hear the apology. "I shouldn't have freaked out that one night. Who you are friends with and who you decide to date is your business."

You finally smile, even though it's rather small. "Thank you. And don't get me wrong, I know you meant well, but you should have dropped it and just trusted my judgment."

"Yeah. I know," he mumbles.

"Soo.. are we good?" You ask.

"Yeah."

"Good. I was getting tired of you liking my posts and not commenting on them."

Peter snorts. A moment of silence passes and then he says, "So you'll be glad to know that Leslie and I aren't together anymore. I broke it off earlier tonight."

You wince. "Sorry."

"Nah. Don't be. She was totally using me for access to the tower." You're torn between being smug about being right and being sad for your friend who just ended his relationship. "I only realized it earlier when she got upset because Mr. Rogers posted a picture of you and Mr. Barnes together, and she had a few choice words to say about it."

"What? Steve posted a picture of us?" You quickly pull out your phone, checking social media for any notifications. There are none, but as you get on Instagram you check Steve's page and sure enough there's a new pic that shows Bucky staring fondly at you as you laugh at something on your phone. "That little shit didn't tag us!"

As your thumbs move furiously to give Steve a piece of your mind and to comment how adorable you and Bucky look, Peter can't help but say, "You're attracted to him."

Your texting falters and you quickly glance at your friend to gauge his reaction, but when he just looks amused, you shrug. "I mean have you seen him? How could I not be attracted to him?"

"Does he know?"

"I have a feeling he does. Asshole likes to fluster me every now and then."

"Well if it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure he likes you back." You snort and go back to finishing up the comment on Steve's post. "I'm serious. When we stopped talking, he threatened me. He was pissed that I made you cry and said I was lucky. He's actually really scary when you're on his bad side."

It takes a moment for his words to sink in and when they do you can feel your ears heating up, followed by your cheeks. Peter starts to laugh and you groan in embarrassment. "Why is this so weird? Dating should be easy!"

"Well he is an Avenger.."

"I don't care about that! He's just- he's really, really hot. It's intimidating."

"Wait, what?" Peter huffs. "So you're intimidated by his hotness and not because he's a super-soldier with a metal arm?"

"Well yeah."

Expression melting into one of confusion, your friend eventually shakes his head at you. "You're on your own with that. Good luck."

You hadn't realized how much everyone had known about your and Peter's brief falling out until the two of you were laughing together once again at the tower. It seemed like everyone had sagged in relief now that the two of you were poking fun at one another once more, and you had to apologize for apparently making it awkward for them.

And now that your best friend knew of your crush on a certain super-soldier, there was lots of teasing material. Of course you kept him in line when you could, but there was no stopping the force of Peter, Wanda, and Darcy combined.

It's a random Tuesday night when you've driven over to the Tower, Bucky having called you over for dinner with a few friends. You had the day off so you didn't mind heading on over, but as the elevator doors slide open after having ridden up to the communal floor, you yelp in surprise as the small gathered crows that shout, "Happy birthday!", at you.

Steve, Wanda, Sam, and Peter pop confetti poppers as you step out of the elevator, eyes wide as you glance between each of them. "My birthday is not until tomorrow!" You hiss.

"But you work tomorrow." Wanda frowns.

"Mhm." Your eyes then narrow, glancing behind them at the streamers and balloons hanging from the ceiling. "And how'd you guys even know?"

Everyone glances at Peter and he takes a step back when your gaze slides to him. He chuckles sheepishly. "I might have hid your birthday cupcake here and Steve found it."

"Petey," you groan. "Why couldn't you just hide it at aunt May's like usual? You know I dislike birthday celebrations."

"You don't dislike them. You just dislike all the attention being on you."

"Whatever. Where's Barnes? He's the one who lured me here under false pretenses. I got a bone to pick with him too."

Everyone turns around and Bucky's head appears from around the corner. He smirks and you glare at him. "Not false pretenses. We are having dinner," he says. "It just so happens to be a birthday dinner. And it's running a little bit late, so until the food gets here you get to open presents."

"You guys all suck."

Peter and Wanda each take a hand and drag you further into the room, heading towards the kitchen. Bucky fully steps out from behind the wall and you aim a kick at his shin as you're walking by. He laughs as he easily dodges it and then you're standing by the kitchen island that's been cleared of everything other than birthday presents.

You huff a small laugh and shake your head fondly at them. "I love you guys, but you do know you didn't have to get me anything, right?"

"Shut up and open the presents," Bucky says.

"Open mine first," Sam says, reaching into the small pile and pulling out a white envelope. "Unlike the others, I was literally told within the last thirty minutes we were doing this so yeah. It's not the best present, but I think you'll enjoy it."

You smile at Sam as you open it, chuckling at the plain birthday card and his brief personal message written inside. But it's what else that's inside that makes you meet Sam's gaze once more, smiling fondly at him. "Thank you. I can't get enough of bubble tea and I'm sure I can do some damage with this gift card."

"You're welcome."

"Mine next." Peter reaches in for a medium-sized box and hands it over to you. "I know you're not a fan of presents, so I got you something I actually knew you'd enjoy."

Raising an eyebrow at him, you pull the lid off of the box. Then glancing down, you snort before pulling out a bottle of Patron Silver Tequila. "I knew we were best friends for a reason."

Steve groans. "Please drink responsibly."

"Please. Responsible is my middle name, Rogers." Everyone snorts and instead of trying to remain serious and feign offense, you end up laughing. "Sam and Buck are good babysitters. You have nothing to worry about."

"That's to be determined," he says. "Here. Open mine. I honestly had no idea what to get you, but Peter assured me you'd enjoy this."

Putting the bottle of tequila back in its box, you accept Steve's gift. Pulling off the ribbon, you can't help but laugh when you see what's inside. "Cards Against Humanity." Peter cheers. "We're playing this the next time I have off," you say, grinning at Steve.

"What is Cards Against Humanity?" He wonders. "I just picked it up and boxed it."

"It's possibly one of the most confusing card games or raunchy card games you'll ever play," Sam says. "I, for one, am looking forward to it."

"Thank you, Steve. I seriously can't wait to play it."

"You're welcome."

Wanda claps her hands. "Mine and Darcy's next. She ordered online and I had to pick it up earlier. But, um, I'm not sure you want to open it up in front of everyone."

"Oh god. Don't tell me it's a vibrator."

Sam laughs out loud as both Peter and Steve start blushing. Bucky looks rather amused and intrigued as Wanda slides two boxes over to you. She shakes her head, giggling. "Not quite."

For a brief moment you're relieved, but then her answer sinks in and you're hesitant all over again. You groan. "Is yours safer? I feel like it is. Which one is it?"

Wanda only smirks as she pushes her box towards you. You open it, marvel at its contents, and then put the lid back on much to the boys' displeasure. Trying to keep a straight face, you look at Wanda. "How many sets did you get?"

"There's four. All in colors that will look amazing against your skin tone."

"Thank you. I'll send you pictures when I wear them."

"Yes please! Natasha wants to know how they fit as well. She was the one who suggested them."

"I'll send them to the ladies group chat then."

"Well that's not fair," Sam complains. "First for not showing us what's inside the box and then you guys have a ladies only group chat. I wanna be in the ladies only group chat."

"But then that defeats the purpose of it being a ladies only group chat," you muse.

"Come on," Peter then whines. "What was the present?"

Your gaze slides to Peter, but instead of outright saying what it is, you say, "Think back to that one Halloween night where you wouldn't let me out of the dorm until I switched costumes."

It takes him only a minute to understand and when he does, he snorts. "That wasn't a costume! That was lingerie."

"Whoa, what?" Sam exclaims, grinning.

"Lingerie can be worn as a costume?" Steve wonders.

"I was actually a Victoria's Secret Angel, complete with the most amazing set of wings, and Petey forbade me from leaving the room. It was a sad, sad night."

"As much as I wanna get into that," Sam says, "I wanna know what Barnes got you more."

You chuckle and glance at Bucky, smile faltering when you see him tense. But then he seems to shake himself out of it and offers you a grin. "Open the bigger one first."

Wanda clears away the other presents as Bucky slides his two towards you. You feel giddy as you grab the bigger box, untying the black silk ribbons and lifting the lid. There's tissue paper you open up and you gasp, happily giggling. "You didn't?!"

"Well you did say it was your favorite movie, sweetheart."

"Yes!" You glance up, beaming at Bucky, and your heart swells at his own smile being directed at you. "I really, really love this. I can't wait to hang it up."

"What is it?" Peter wonders, trying to peer across the island.

"It's a quote from Practical Magic," you say and Peter huffs a laugh, knowing full well your love for that movie. You carefully pick it up and turn it around so everyone can see it as you read it off by heart. "Always throw spilt salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Plant lavender for luck and fall in love whenever you can."

"Aw," Wanda coos. "That's adorable."

"I made Bucky watch this movie a while back," you say. "I need to show it to you one of these days."

"I'm looking forward to it," she says.

With nothing else to say, you place it back in its box and set it aside in favor for the second box. It's a little smaller, but you're excited for it nonetheless. Untying the ribbon and lifting the lid, you immediately laugh at the white petals scattered atop the tissue paper.

"Barnes, you smooth sonuvabitch," Sam mutters.

Steve and Peter laugh, but you're so focused on the notecard that's under some of the petals. Lifting it up, you read the note to yourself because immediately you know it's personal. My better half has to be funny, get along with my friends, won't judge me for my past, and has decent taste in movies.

Heart fluttering, you bite the corner of your lip when it feels like you're smiling way too much.

"Well what does Prince Charming have to say?" Sam asks.

"That's none of your business." You close the note and then tuck into your back pocket, chuckling when Sam and Wanda complain. When you meet Bucky's gaze, you immediately flush and mentally curse yourself when you see him smirk in return.

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, you center yourself and then part the tissue paper. You look at the second portrait and gasp after you read it.

"What? What is it?" Peter wonders.

This second portrait is of a hand drawn bowl with a tipped over salt shaker, a small bundle of lavender, a small bundle of rosemary, and a heart beneath it. Above the bowl is a swirl of flower petals and inside the swirl of petals, in very pretty cursive writing, are the words I wished for you too.

Did he just- did he confess his own feelings by using a Practical Magic quote? Or was this just you overthinking his present? You glance to meet Bucky's gaze and at his gauging expression your eyes fill with tears.

"What did you do, Barnes?!" Sam scolds him. "You made the poor girl cry at her own birthday celebration!"

But Bucky isn't paying him any attention, instead he's solely focused on you. You set the present aside and walk around the kitchen island on shaky legs, and Bucky readily reaches for your waist as you grab his face and pull him down into a kiss.

You can't believe you're kissing Bucky, but then he squeezes your waist and returns the kiss, and you know you made the right choice.

Someone gasps, but then the following words let you know exactly who it is. "Darcy is going to be so angry she missed this." Wanda. That is Wanda.

"What the hell is going on?" Sam wonders. "What type of present can cause this type of reaction?"

You smile against Bucky's mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth before falling flat on your feet after having been on the tips of your toes in order to reach his mouth.

"It's my favorite quote from my favorite movie," you say. You turn around to address your friends, but Bucky doesn't let you go far. He wraps one arm around your waist and tugs you back so you're resting against his chest and tucked beneath his chin. "It's a movie about witches," you explain. "These two little girls are being raised by their aunts and they see them performing love spells for a local woman. Basically, one of the young girls refuses to fall in love after witnessing a love spell gone wrong and she does her own spell to call forward a love that would be impossible to find- a man who's favorite shape would be a star and who had one green eye, one blue. Years down the road, the sisters accidentally murder a man."

Sam snorts. "How the hell does one accidentally murder someone?"

"Shush." Wanda admonishes him. "I want to hear the story behind the gift."

You and Bucky chuckle, and you continue to explain. "Anyway, they send in an US Marshall to investigate the disappearance and the one who had done the love spell at a young age starts to fall for this man. She ends up telling him about the murder, but he doesn't quite believe her. Then they're on the verge of hooking up when she gets a good look at his eyes- one green eye, one blue."

"Oh my god. That's so cute!" Wanda says.

"It gets cuter. And sadder," you say. "So she explains to this man about her family, the murder, and how she can't be with him because he's only attracted to her because of a love spell she did when she was just a little girl. At first he's skeptical about this spell bringing him to her, but then he ends up believing her. And as he's walking away from her, he stops to tell her I wished for you too."

"So you made out with Barnes because of that?" Sam shakes his head, chuckling. "Wow."

"It's fuckin' adorable. Stop ruining the moment, Samuel!" Bucky laughs at your words and pulls you closer to him.

"So while I'm happy for Buck," Steve says, "I'm still really curious about what Darcy's gift is."

Peter nods. "Same."

Wanda giggles, but says nothing as she grabs the box and slides it over to you. You groan because you know it can be nothing good, but you still open it since everyone is watching and waiting. As soon as you part the tissue paper and read the box, alongside taking in the picture on the box, your face flames as you shove the lid back on. Wanda cackles.

"I hate her."

"She said to give the remote to-"

"Don't!" You cut Wanda off, blushing even further. "I know who she means to have control of that."

"They- they make underwear that does that?" Bucky muses and you die a little on the inside in embarrassment. You elbow him as he starts to laugh behind you.

Sam instantly knows what the gift is now and starts to laugh, but Steve and Peter apparently need some help.

"Lewis got you vibrating panties, didn't she?"

"Oh my god, Sam, if you don't shut up I'm gonna punch you in the throat."

Steve is torn between laughing and trying not to make you even more uncomfortable, but his amusement wins out. "Given Y/N's flustered state, I'm assuming Darcy wants Bucky to have the remote."

"I mean this seems like it could make for an interesting night."

Everyone laughs at Bucky's sudden interest in the box you're doing your damnedest to keep shut, but luckily Peter steps in. "As much I love watching Y/N squirm, can we get ready to eat? I'm starving."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go wait downstairs for it, kid."

Sam and Peter head for the elevator to take them down to the lobby, and you turn around in Bucky's hold. "Help me take this stuff to my car so I don't have to do it later?"

"Sure thing, doll." He grins. But instead of stepping away, he pushes you further into the kitchen island. You smile as he cages you in and then huff a laugh when he reaches for the box behind you. "So exactly how long do we have to be dating before we can test these out?"

You slowly lean upward so your lips brush his as you say, "I'd say very, very soon if you would put your ass into gear and help me move these presents like I asked."

Bucky laughs and presses a quick kiss to your lips. "Then let's get to it."

The telltale sound of a phone's camera goes off and you turn your face towards the sound. Wanda is beaming, her phone pointed towards you and Bucky. "Darcy wanted evidence I wasn't lying. She's going to be so happy."

Bucky turns his face to look at her then, his cheek brushing against yours where he's yet to back off from you. "Tell Lewis I said thanks for the present. I'll give her my review of them in a few weeks."

Wanda's eyes widen and you immediately blurt, "Don't you dare!" But she's already texting and you know the group chat full of ladies is going to be full of messages that you'll have to reply to later. Quietly groaning, you slap your hands against Bucky's waist and push him back. Looking up at him, you shake your head but the corner of your lips turn up in amusement. "You're terrible. I would threaten to withhold sex, but I've been looking forward to that for a while. I'd just be punishing us both."

"Just tell me when and where, sweetheart, and I'll be there."

"Oh no. You guys are going to be that couple," Steve complains.

And without missing a beat, you face him and say, "Fuck off, Rogers!" Bucky snorts.

"You're cranky when you haven't gotten laid."

You gasp as Bucky bursts out laughing right in your ear, but he quickly catches you as you try to lunge for his best friend. "You know what, I was going to be discreet when banging your best friend, but now I'm going to tell you all the filthy things Bucky likes to do just to annoy you. I will go into excruciating detail about the look and taste of his dick!"

Steve blanches as it's Wanda's turn to burst out laughing. "You've done it now, Steve."

And as Steve looks to Bucky for help, he merely shrugs. "You brought this on yourself, Stevie. Hope you enjoy the play by plays."

Relaxing in Bucky's hold and moving so you're hip to hip with him, you slide your arm behind his waist and hook your thumb into the belt loop of his jeans. "We're going to have so much fun."

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #marvel imagine #peter parker #bucky barnes #wanda maximoff #sam wilson #darcy lewis #the avengers #avengers #avengers imagine #marvel

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jadegrey711 · 4 years ago

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Trouble

Soft dark!Andy Barber x Fem!Reader

A/N: Hello everyone! So recently I’ve become absolutely obsessed with both @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18 who both write absolutely amazing stuff and I want to be them when I grow up. So when I found out Siri was doing a 5k writing challenge i figured i’d throw my hat in the ring and maybe get out of this depression writing slump.

So I decided to make a vey very very! Soft!Dark Andy Barber x Fem!Reader. Seriously it’s like Dark Light lol. But I hope you all like it! I hope to do another one before the month is over but let’s see shall we?

*NOT MY GIF. Credit in the TAGS*

Word Count:1484

If you like my stories you can check out my sideblog @jadegreywriting to see all of them and my masterlist without filtering through my main blog.

I own all rights to this story and do not give permission for my stories to be published, translated or reposted anywhere else. The only places I have published my stories is here on Tumblr and on my AO3 account (LadyAuthor711)

This story is for 18+ ONLY. It contains sexual themes that are not suited for younger audiences so if you’re under 18 my blog and this story is not for you. Please make sure to read at your own discretion and remember that you are solely responsible for your content intake.

WARNINGS: Sexual Situations (18+ ONLY), Overstimulation, possessive Andy, deeply jealous Andy, Oral sex (F Receiving), Vaginal sex.

Other warnings include very mediocre writing.

He watched you from a distance as he continued talking with his fellow associates, making sure to keep a watchful eye on you as you chatted with the wives. He smirked to himself knowing you must be bored out of your mind, but you did it for him and he loved you for it.

Suddenly though, Andy watched as Neil Logiudice approached you from behind, putting a hand on your arm. You seemed startled for a minute and then smiled, putting your hand on top of his and Andy saw red.

He barely registered what the others in his group were talking about. Because his gaze was focused solely on you and Neil and how cozy you were in each other’s company. How you and the other women laughed at some joke he made and about how in the three minutes he had been standing there he hadn’t been able to keep his fucking hands off of you. He felt like breaking each one of those fingers, making sure he let Neil know that he was never to touch you again. He could feel his whole body vibrate with violence as he continued watching, knowing you were none the wiser.

Neil was nice enough and he was an associate of Andy’s so when he put his hand on your arm to get your attention you let it slide, putting your hand on top of his and gave it a friendly pat fighting the urge to swat it away immediately. You were at a party full of Andy’s work friends and associates so making a scene over something small would not be a good impression on either your part or Andy’s; so you let it slide and you let the other four times he touched you slide as well. Even as you were mentally flinching each time he did it. After the fourth time you looked around the room for Andy, looking for an escape of some kind and immediately found him; across the room and boring holes into the back of Neil’s head with that dark gaze.

You took that as your cue to quickly excuse yourself, saying that it was getting rather late and you should go and find Andy. Everyone waved you off as you departed from the group and over to where Andy was.

“Hi honey.” You smiled, grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers with his and while everyone else in the group was still talking you heard Andy sigh and grip your fingers back; turning his face towards your he gave you a small smile.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He whispered in your ear.

“Definitely!” You whispered back. Before you plastered a smile on your face as Andy said goodbye to everyone and then put his hand on the small of your back and guided you out the exit.

Later that night after you both had gotten home, gotten into bed and as Andy had your leg over his strong shoulder while he devoured your soul between your legs did he bring up Neil.

You writhed on the bed, your fingers tangled in Andy’s hair as you felt your orgasm coming on fast with the pace he was eating you out at. When suddenly Andy surprised you.

“You good friends with Neil now?” he asked nonchalantly against your folds, before he sucked harshly on your clit. Making you groan.

“What?” you asked confused at what he was possibly asking you right now as he was sucking all rational thought out through your pussy.

“Are you good friends with Neil?” He asked again, giving your clit another harsh suck. And you felt your legs convulse.

“What the fuck Andy?” You asked but the sound of his name was more of a moan as he added two of his fingers and pumped your sweet pussy.

Andy didn’t give for a minute as he continued to suck and lick at your folds until you finally came, but instead of gently working you through your orgrasm, his fingers kept their harsh pace as he looked up at you.

“You seemed like real good friends when you let him put his fucking hands on you.” He growled as he placed an open mouth kiss on your pussy. His other hand pulling the hood of your clit back before placing another one of those kisses there and sucking it again.

“Fuck! Andy! I’m gonna come again.” you cried out, feeling that the pleasure was starting to be too much for you. But the way that you started to pull on Andy’s hair to pull him off or the way your hips turned away from him his touches didn’t deter him one bit as he continued with his interrogation.

He leaned up from you and watched his fingers stroke in and out of you before he added a third one, earning a low whine from you as you felt yourself building up to another orgasm.

“You didn’t answer my question sweetheart. Why did that fuck think he could put his hands on what is mine?”

“Andy.” you moaned, trying to get away from his touch but he wasn’t having any of that as he placed his heavy bicep over your stomach, keeping you there at his mercy.

You felt that sinful tongue run through your folds again, his thick beard scratching your thighs adding whatever sensations you were feeling to new heights. Then he pulled out his fingers so he could fuck you with his tongue now. Your third orgasm coming like a runaway freight train. You felt your toes curl as your third orgasm washed over you making you lift from the bed like Andy was performing an exorcism on you.

You felt tears in your eyes as you tried again to pull away from Andy’s touches feeling your thighs tremble uncontrollably now but Andy wasn’t stopping not until he got what he wanted from you; not until he got an answer for why Neil thought he could put his hands on what didn’t belong to him.

“Fuck Andy! Stop!” you sobbed. “He just came up to me. I didn’t want to make a scene about some guy putting his hand on my arm so I didn’t do anything about it. I knew you were right there if I felt uncomfortable and I did; so I left.” you cried out, feeling the tears roll down your cheeks. “Please honey stop.” you sobbed.

You watched in relief as Andy pulled his plump lips away from your aching pussy, and felt your pussy clench at the sight of his beard absolutely drenched in your juices. But your relief was short lived, as you saw the look in Andy’s eyes, the feral look they held in them.

“He made you uncomfortable?”

“Yes, but I came straight to you. Please Andy I can’t take it anymore baby please.” you whined.

“I should break everyone of his fingers for laying a fucking hand on what’s mine.” He said softly, placing chaste kisses on your inner thighs and you let out a small cry. You watched in relief as he climbed up the length of your body, and ladened you with soft hungry kisses, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“I love you.” he said softly, giving you another soft kiss. “I’m so glad that you felt that you could just come to me when you were feeling uncomfortable. I never want you to feel that way again so next time, you’ll just stay with me the whole time okay?”

You quickly nodded and kissed Andy back. You both just stayed there like that for a minute, him hovering and stretched over your body, ladening you with soft kisses before he pulled away from you and gave you a wicked smile.

“But I think you have one more in you baby.” he said and before you could even react. Andy grabbed the back of each of your legs, bringing you closer to him, before he swiftly impaled you with his achingly hard cock.

Andy set a brutal pace obviously trying to get you off one more time before he loses all control. You let out a high keen, and grabbed onto Andy, your nails raking down his back; a small revenge for him absolutely wrecking you tonight all because of some asshole touching you.

“I’m gonna fill you up so nicely baby. No one will ever have any doubt that you are mine.” he let out a low grown. “And that I’m yours.” he growled leaning down to suck and place kisses on your neck.

Without warning your orgasm crashed over you and you were sure that if Andy wasn’t there pressing down onto you, you would’ve snapped in half from the force of it. As Andy chased his own end, he kissed the tears that were flowing down your cheeks.

“Nothing fucks with my baby.”

#jade tries writing #siris5ksoftdarkchallenge #Andy barber x reader #andy barber x fem reader #chris evans charcter #andy barber oneshot #a very very soft!dark Andy Barber #pretty much NNeil gets the reader in trouble #defending jacob #jadegrey writes #my writing #andy barber #defending jacob oneshot

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royal-ruin · 3 years ago

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shadowhunters fic recs (part 1)

these are all going to be malec fic recs, sorry if that’s not what you’re looking for. also, i might have enough for a part 2? i don’t know, we’ll just have to see, i suppose. edit: nope, sorry, i don’t think there’ll be a part 2 anytime soon. the starred ones are my personal favorites. everything is complete unless stated otherwise.

alec lightwood / magnus bane (malec) fic recs

*Closed Doors Don't Lie by RedOrchid (~93k)

When the summoning of the Memory Demon reveals that it's not only Clary's memories that have been meddled with, Alec finds himself being pushed off the path set out for him and onto a different one.

this one was really good! there’s past alec / jace, and i think there are a few scenes of them getting together (i could be wrong, it’s been a while), but they are very brief.

Stone Can Be Broken by lawsofchaos (~4k)

[There’s a deep weariness in Alec’s eyes when he finally looks up to meet Catarina’s gaze. Magnus, on the other hand, turns away to glare at the wall behind Alec’s head, the line of the warlock’s shoulders as razor-sharp as the war paint masquerading as eyeliner on his face.

Alec takes a deep inhale, pushing back the hurt and tilting his chin up ever so slightly in quiet resignation as he breathes out slowly.

“In order for true love’s kiss to break the curse,” and here Alec’s voice is carefully even against the incipient tightening of his throat, “is the love required to be mutual?”]

this is like post break-up and it has a hopeful ending, but it was really heartbreaking for me.

a cold night for good deeds by theprophetlemonade (~510k)

[“There’s this thing that you do,” Alec murmurs. “This power you have that makes you look indestructible.”

“You know that’s not true,” says Magnus.

“I do,” replies Alec, “But even then … there are times when I’m not so sure.”]

1992, New York, a city hanging on to politically-tinged Cold War feelings. Alec Lightwood is a Corporate - a superhero for hire - jostling with a secret identity, holding on to a sense of a normal life, and the fact vigilantes keep turning up murdered in the gutters with no explanation.

Things can only get worse when Magnus - an investigative journalist - starts peeling back Alec’s carefully-crafted mask … and then there’s the mysterious vigilante with the power to move things with his mind who keeps turning up wherever Alec goes - Alec just can’t cut a break.

A neonoir slow-burn superheroes AU about identity, truth, and falling in love without knowing someone’s real name (ft. everyone has superpowers because I couldn’t help myself).

this is the longest fic i’ve ever read. like, with most fics, normally i’d just stop at 200k max, because i literally just can’t read more than that sometimes. but this one was absolutely brilliant. the writing was fantastic, and there was a lot of attention to detail. there’s purple prose too, i get that it’s not everyone’s thing, but it somehow fits so well. it’s also very slow burn, you’ve got to be down for a long ride.

*Best Laid Plans by SuperficialPeasant (~131k)

When a High Warlock looking to end his celibacy streak meets a Shadowhunter after no-baggage thrills, the two make a deal: anytime, anywhere, no strings attached.

it’s a canon rewrite, essentially. the malec relationship starts pre-canon and it changes so much. one of the tags is “63794102 things change when you put Clary Fray in a holding cell” and that’s literally what made me click on the fic. as you can probably tell from that tag, there’s a bit of clary bashing (very little though). also i love this characterization of alec. he’s so much more confidant and there is way less gay panicking with him and magnus. there’s a fair amount of well-written smut too.

I am your secret and you are mine by xxDreamy (~14k)

Magnus and Alec are leading actors in one of the most popular shows on TV. They met seven years ago on the set and became friends right away. They have been dating for four years by now and no one knows about this. As much as they want to share their relationship with the world, it doesn't seem so easy to do it so they just keep hiding. Until one day they don't have to anymore.

Aka Celebrity AU where they are shamelessly flirting with each other on every occasion and no one pays attention to it because it's how they've been for last seven years.

secret relationship, and modern au with malec as costars. very well done.

On Ice by Carmenlire (~3.5k) (series is ~25k)

[He crouches down until he can meet the man's eyes from where he’s staring down at the floor, expression blank.

“You were a dead man as soon as my customer was pronounced DOA on the fucking sidewalk," Alec says softly. "You don’t come onto my turf and try to screw me and my customers because do you know what happens if you do?”

The man swallows painfully but Alec doesn't give him a chance to finish before he continues, "You don't live to tell the tale."]

Or, Mafia AU

mafia/mob boss alec and magnus of rival gangs. i live for bamf dubious morality alec. it’s a part of a six part incomplete series with mostly oneshots.

One step ahead by apathyinreverie (~103k)

What if Alec and Magnus had already met during that Pandemonium scene in the very first episode?

Or, how things might have gone if Magnus and Alec had just had a few extra days to get to know each other, before Valentine’s schemes, Clary’s various crusades, Lightwood family history revelations and Clave-Downworld politics made everything more difficult for them than it really needed to be.

It truly might have made all the difference in the world.

yeah, another fix-it where malec meets pre-canon.

Traveler by bumblebeesknees (~16k)

Alec’s not sure how to process that Max, his five-month old baby, is apparently a dimension hopping private investigator 140 years in the future. Magnus has a much easier time dealing with it.

[“Sorry,” says Max, blinking rapidly. He doesn’t look away from Alec. He looks – Alec doesn’t know how to describe the expression on Max’s face. “It’s just... it’s been a long time since I saw you, Dad.”]

this type of mine by thisissirius (~28k)

alec and magnus have a bond. it's probably going to be telepathic.

or the one where the lightwoods are put on trial in more ways than one and alec slowly falls in love with magnus one day at a time.

#shadowhunters #shadowhunters fic recs #malec #malec fic recs #magnus bane #alec lightwood #magnus x alec #alec x magnus

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junowritings · 4 years ago

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HELLO, DARLING 💕💕 I'm here to bust in and ask for some sweet, sweet Twst fluff! May I have some Ruggie, Azul, and Deuce reacting to thier fem!s/o protecting them in a fight?? Maybe some dude trying to swing at them and their gf gets in the way and protects them! Pls give me the good, much love and you're amazing 💕💕💕💖💖💖

First request! Thank you so much honey I am always happy to provide some peak content~! I had way too much fun with this and it shows lmao but I hope you enjoy~! 💖 💖 💖

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

Ruggie

♡ Ruggie’s used to stepping on a few toes and tails with his antics - he’s a little trickster at heart but it’s all in good fun, he swears! It’s just unfortunate circumstances that perhaps one or two people sometimes get caught in the crossfire of his schemes, never anything too serious, but enough to leave more than a few people grumbling about it by the time things actually get sorted back out. Rarely do things ever actually spiral out of Ruggie’s control, and even if they do, chances are no one stays too mad at him for too long...most of the time. The times they do? They tend to get a bit out of hand.

♡ When a group of students attempt to corner him on the way back to the Savanaclaw dorm, he isn’t even sure what’s got them so heated - they start cussing him out, ranting about how he must think he’s such a wise guy, getting so cocky and not knowing his place. He’s not phased by what they say at all, if anything he’s not fussed in the slightest and would probably make a comment about them coming up with something more original if he could get a word in their bickering. It gets tiring real fast, and Ruggie’s looking for an out before these guys have even finished talking.

♡ Sure, he could use his unique magic in this situation, but given that it would only affect one of them and more than likely piss them off even more in the process, it wouldn’t do much to save his hide right now. Three against one hardly seems like a hard fight, but if Ruggie is even remotely concerned about the odds it doesn’t show for a second, instead - chances are, they’re just gonna yell it out of their system and then storm off so he can go back to what he was doing. Arguably, that just makes them angrier, and soon enough their heated bickering becomes thinly veiled threats, as though they’re trying to rile him up into instigating something - they want a reaction, an excuse to justify starting a fight, but Ruggie’s not naive enough to fall for that trick.

♡ When he doesn’t, one of the students finally snaps, lunging forward and snagging the collar of Ruggie’s uniform, bunching it up until he can feel knuckles pressed against his throat and he has to tilt his head up to avoid the fist curling underneath his chin. As the other hand rears back, the laid-back smile on his face becomes strained, and Ruggie squares the guy with a pointed stare as though waiting to call their bluff on actually taking a swing. He doesn’t get the chance to find out, as in the next moment the hand’s gone from his collar and Ruggie finds himself looking at the back of a blazer as a new voice joins the scene - one that he recognizes.

♡ He can’t see your face from this angle, but he can hear the hostility in your voice as you square up to the three boys, standing to your full height as you curse them out and order them to back up, asking what the hell they thought they were doing to your boyfriend. And just like that, those three hotheads dissolve into cowering pups right before his eyes, all bumbling words and awkward shifting as they try to talk their way out of the situation they’d been caught red handed in. They’re doing a poor job of it, and you’re clearly not buying it as you fold your arms and fix them with a scowl, taking a step forward as you move to completely shield Ruggie from their view.

♡ Ruggie can count the amount of times someone has actively gone out of their way to protect him on one hand, so the situation is as bizarre as it is entertaining. He feels a smug kind of pride at hearing you declare the word ‘boyfriend’, and hearing the anger in your voice is enough to convince him that it’s for the best to let you handle this whole thing. Still, Ruggie just can’t help but peek over your shoulder as you tear those guys a new one, shooting them a shit eating grin and enjoying the way that their expressions twist into grimaces, pissed but unable to do anything less they risk even more of your rage.

♡ All you have to hear is one of them mention ‘putting him in his place’ for your expression to visibly darken, and all three of them know that they’ve messed up at the sight of your face. You barely even have to feign lunging at them to get all three of them to bolt, just about toppling over each other as they flee down the corridor and round the corner, effectively vanishing from your sight. Even then you wait a beat, listening out for their footsteps until you can’t hear them anymore before you allow the tension to fall from your shoulders. Ruggie thinks that’s the perfect time to chime in, resting his head on the shoulder he was peeking over as he snickers.

♡ “Shishishi~! Did you see the way they ran? Talk about spooked!”

♡ You find yourself chuckling along with him as you look at him out of the corner of your eye, watching his expression carefully before you shift around to fully face him. The first words out of your mouth are words of concern, asking him if he’s okay and if they hurt him in any way. He’s quick to brush off any of your worries, giving you a non-committal shrug and assuring you that he’s fine - he’s dealt with way worse confrontations before, so it’s not skin off his hide now that they’ve scampered off.

♡ You’re not entirely convinced, he can see it in your face as you regard him - you seem to want to press the question on those ‘worse confrontations’, but after a moment you seem to drop it. Instead, you reach out and attempt to straighten out his collar and tie, though both are still a wrinkled mess by the time you’re finished; even so, Ruggie seems to appreciate the sentiment, and that lax grin from before is back as he slides out of your grip. He’s still gotta get back to the dorm, but it wouldn’t hurt to have company on the way back, if his new ‘bodyguard’ wants to tag along~

Azul

♡ Azul’s no stranger to people’s ire - he’s gained more than a few enemies over time, having his fair share of scorned patrons cursing his name before he’d even enrolled at Night Raven college. He’s learned quickly to gauge whether someone’s just blowing off steam or if they’re a serious threat, and he learned even quicker how to deal with those situations accordingly; after all, it’s bad business if you’re busy being hounded by clients looking for a bone to pick. He’s got countermeasures in play, and a few backup plans if things become too dicey for his liking, but he’s fortunately rarely had to use them barring one or two troublesome incidents thanks to the Leech twins.

♡ Floyd and Jade have, of course, been a big help in handling these little confrontations whenever they arise, having nipped most of them in the bud before they’ve even had the chance to darken the doors of the Monstro Lounge, so there’s been a relative peace in the place when people are there to have a good time rather than try and start fights.

♡ Things come to a head when someone actually manages to slip through into the Monstro Lounge, and Azul comes out of his office to the sound of someone shouting his name in a tone that sets the precedent that this is not going to be a peaceful interaction. He sees their face before they even turn to face him - expression twisted up in anger and hands balled at their side as they glare daggers at the other patrons, as if trying to discern if the dorm leader is sitting amongst them. Azul recognizes them immediately, and, upon realizing that the twins aren’t present in the lounge, rationalizes that it’s up to him to smooth things over before they end up disturbing the other patrons and causing too much of a disturbance. And so he plasters on his most neutral, unassuming smile, and greets the new ‘client’, watching them whip around to face him as he steps forward to talk to them.

♡ Azul already knows what they want to talk about - of course he does - he’s learned to keep track of every face that passes through those doors and his interactions with them. And yet he allows them to talk, and get what they want off of their chest; talking to them like this isn’t going to get them anywhere, and it appears they’re more in the mood for yelling than they are for actually talking. So he allows them to rant, if only to calm them down enough until he deems them rational enough to listen to what he has to say; and after a moment this seems to actually have done the trick, as the yelling soon quiets down in frustrated grumbling, and the eyes once drawn to the scene from nearby tables begin to return back to what had previously caught their attention. That’s when Azul finally speaks, extending an offer to finish this conversation back inside his office - after all, he’s sure they didn’t come here simply to make a scene when there’s a peaceful resolution to be reached, right?

♡ It’s with that thought in mind that leads Azul to a momentary slip in judgement - turning his back on the troublesome patron and begins to walk back towards his office, expecting them to follow him. Which they do, with a raised fist. He doesn’t hear them storm after him, but what he does hear is the gasps from onlookers as they watch the person in question rear back their hand, fist aiming right for the back of his head. It should have connected - afterall, they were close enough to have landed the hit, but it never comes.

♡ Instead, a sharp shove at his back has Azul’s stumbling, and not a moment later, he’s spinning around to see what’s going on and finds an unexpected sight. The patron’s sprawled out on the floor, cradling their face in both hands and swearing up a storm as they rock back and forth, nursing what looks like a solid hit to the nose. And towering over them is none other than you, blazer discarded and sleeves rolled up to the elbows as you shake off the hit from your hands, winding up your shoulders as you stare daggers down at his would-be attacker. It doesn’t take a genius to discern what’s just happened in the span of just a few moments, but Azul’s suspicions are all but confirmed when you snap at them to just try and punch him again - watch what happens, you dare them.

♡ Anger flashes across the patron’s face, and for a second Azul truly believes that he’s about to watch a brawl break out between this troublemaker and his girlfriend as both make a move to jump the other. Thankfully for all involved, they don’t get the chance to see that show, as not a moment too soon the twins are there to intervene and split it up before any real fight begins. Jade’s hands are on your shoulder, guiding you back gently but firm enough to ensure that he can pull you away from this fight if you try to push the issue; you reluctantly follow him as he backtracks over to where Azul is standing, still grumbling about it under your breath. Floyd, on the other hand, is all too eager to take care of the one still cradling their face, sporting the beginnings of a bloody nose as they’re hoisted up onto their feet and promptly directed to the nearest exit.

♡ Azul makes a note to deal with that person later - though he’s got a sneaking suspicion that the twins are already well on their way to taking care of that in his stead as Jade leaves to rejoin his brother once you’re standing face to face with their dorm leader. For now, he turns his attention to you, watching you huff and rub idly at the hand you’d punched with as the beginnings of an apology tumble from your lips.

♡ You didn’t mean to get involved and cause so much of a scene, but when he’d turned away and you saw the person rearing back to sock him, you were up from your table and swinging without a second thought. You couldn’t just sit there and let him get hurt, what kind of girlfriend would that make you if you did! You’d never let him get hurt as long as you were around - that was okay...right?

♡ The passion behind your voice is enough to convince him that you mean every word, and you can see his expression soften a little as he takes your hand into his own, thumb brushing over the scuffed skin of your knuckles, red marks becoming visible as a testament to the force behind your punch. Your expression twitches with a flash of discomfort - looks like you’d underestimated the force on your hand; Azul’s not surprised, going above and beyond was a penchant of yours that had gotten you this far, and perhaps what had led to you worming your way into his heart in the first place.

♡ At your expression, Azul gives your hand a pat before taking a step back, using the hold to guide you. He certainly doesn’t mind the protective streak - in fact it’s a rather endearing trait, one that deserves proper compensation in return. But the first order of business is getting that hand tended to, and Azul makes that his priority as he leads them to follow him to his office, pleased when you fall into step with him and follow his lead.

Deuce

♡ Honestly, with how much of a protector can be over his friends, Deuce is in desperate need of someone just as willing to square up for him. He takes their safety seriously, even though part of him knows that realistically they can all take care of themselves just fine if anything actually happened. That still doesn’t stop him from wanting to step in whenever things get dicey, especially whenever it comes to you or your friends, and that either becomes a sweet sentiment, or the bane of your existence depending on how many altercations this ends up dragging him into.

♡ Maybe it's because of this that a fight was bound to break out sooner or later, but for what it’s worth, this one wasn’t actually caused because of him - it was because of Grim. That feline had a habit of breaching people’s boundaries, and sure enough it was just a matter of time before things escalated into a fight before anyone even had a chance to figure out what had even happened. Deuce wasn’t around when it happened, but the sound of yelling had caught his attention and led to him looking into the passing hallway trying to figure out what was going on. He recognized some of the voices, he swears it, and sure enough he finds the owner of those voices right in the center of the hallway, a small circle of people getting into each other's faces.

♡ Both sides are yelling, and at the sight of Ace and Grim smack-dab in the middle of the bickering, Deuce finds himself getting in-between them if only to get the one guy waving his hands around away from his friends before someone got slapped. Almost immediately there’s a hand in his face, an accusatory finger jabbed in his direction as all that anger at his friends is now squared directly on him. Deuce feels himself getting angry the more this guy screams into his face, cutting him off every time Deuce tries to get a word in; it’s clear that he’s not going to get any answers from this guy any time soon, so he calls to his friends behind him, ignoring the shout of ‘Hey, don’t ignore me!’ directed at him as he does so.

♡ Deuce looks away for a second, talking to Ace over his shoulder to try and find out what started this whole thing in the first place, when he feels someone grab a fistful of hair and yanks. Pain blossoms through his scalp and he hisses, a hand flying up to snag the wrist of the guy and wrenching it forward, digging his fingers in to force him to let go only for the hand to grip tighter. There’s another sharp tug, and Deuce can see Ace and Grim diving forward to help him from the corner of his eye, their shouts of protest only seeming to anger the guy more as they round in on him.

♡ But someone else gets there first, and just like that the hand is being wrenched from Deuce’s hair and he hears something go sliding across the floor. Turns out it’s the guy, whose expression is a mix of anger and bafflement as he tries desperately to reach for something behind him - no, someone. There’s a hand wound into the back of the guy’s blazer, hoisted up enough that he has to arch to go along with the item of clothing. The guy tries to reach behind him, but every time another hand peeks out from behind him to swat it away with ease, eliciting frustrated whines when the guy realizes he’s stuck.

♡ Deuce’s face must be priceless as he takes in the scene, watching a familiar head duck out from around the guys shoulder and flash him a grin, giving him a thumbs up. He hadn’t even seen you in the crowd, did you jump in when you saw him getting hurt? A part of him feels bad that you’d seen it happen in the first place, but that’s soon quashed when you turn your focus back to the guy who’d swung, who by this point had lost the gumption to keep swinging and was now just waiting for you to release your grip.

♡ You give it a few more seconds for good measure, before you allow your hold to loosen and you step away, still giving the guy a cautious glance as you move to stand in front of Deuce, Ace and Grim in a protective stance. There’s a beat of tenseness, waiting to see if the fight is going to start back up again, but when the group starts backtracking, retreating to who knows where else, it’s clear that at least for now things have been resolved. And with that out of the way, you turn your attention back to the boys, sticking Grim a pointed stare as you huff out that you’re talking to him about this later.

♡ Then you turn your focus over to Deuce, and he immediately straightens up under your attention waiting for some kind of comment about the confrontation, or maybe a warning for him to be more careful. You take his face into your hands, and though confused, he follows along with your movements as you urge him to look down; he doesn’t know what you’re doing until he feels a hand smooth through his hair, easing the tousled hair back into place as you ask him if it still stings. Your tone is soft, and Deuce finds himself flushing as he hurriedly reassures you that it doesn’t hurt - it’s fine, really! You’re not entirely swayed, but the moment is broken when you hear Grim make a gagging noise telling you to stop being so weird. And just like that your attention is back onto Grim again, fully prepared to choke him with that damn bow as Deuce straightens back up, carding a hand through his hair and trying to will away the pink flush beginning to rise to his cheeks.

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