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katbloo · 7 days

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UHH CHAPTER 2 OF MY BSD FIC

ENJOY

The night after her hospital visit, Kanako sat at the counter of a bar she frequented. It had a warm and cozy atmosphere, and it was never too crowded, so Kanako could easily hear all of the conversations going on.

As she sipped her drink, she glanced to the side at a small group of men, who were all talking about something that she found rather interesting,

“Did you hear? Apparently, a bunch of people in Yokohama have been going missing lately.”

“Seriously? Like a serial abduction case?”

“Yeah…it’s pretty recent so we don’t know much about it.”

Kanako pulled out her phone and stared at the time as she sipped her drink, “Nine pm.” She noted as she pretended to not eavesdrop on the group of people.

“That’s pretty scary, I hope I don’t get abducted! I’ve got too much left to do with my life…”

“Yeah, no kidding. Have you been to that new restaurant? I’m dying to try it, and I do not wanna get murdered before I can do that.”

Once the conversation shifted, Kanako quit listening to them, as she became uninterested. The bartender made his round back to her and he held his hand out for her empty glass. Kanako slid it towards him,

“A refill, please.” She requested. The bartender nodded and went to make her drink. Kanako picked up her phone and sighed, no new notifications, no new jobs. Without Chuuya being there to entertain her with his usual nonsense, her life felt stale and uninteresting. The only thing she found herself doing was work, and when she was out of work to do, there was nothing.

Kanako began to think about the past few days, and how stressful they had been for the Port Mafia. They had been given an offer from a foreign organization that was just too valuable to pass up, and because of that, they were on constant lookout in search of a white tiger.

“People will do anything for money, won’t they? We’re wasting our time on this dumb tiger.”

Kanako looked up at the bartender as he slid the drink towards her. She nodded in thanks and lifted the glass to her lips, she took a sip and set it down, “It’s delicious, thank you.”

“Of course, ma’am.” He nodded and went back to his job. Kanako let out a groan as she leaned her head on the counter,

“I’m bored to death, and everyone else is busy.” She huffed as she pulled out her phone to check her contacts. Every one of them was offline, all except for one, “Wait, Chuuya’s in a different time zone…” She decided to shoot him a text message.

“Is it morning for you?”

Kanako turned off her phone and set it down to wait for a reply. She finished her drink and turned her attention back to the people who were talking about the abductions, but their conversation had shifted to sports, which Kanako couldn’t care less about.

A few minutes later, Kanako received a text back,

“Yeah it’s morning. Can you call?”

Kanako gasped a bit as he asked this, it wasn’t often that they could hear each other’s voices since he left six months ago, so she was quick to type a reply and leave the bar after paying, “I can.”

Kanako grabbed her bag from the counter and sprinted outside, she stood out on the streets looking up at the moon as she waited for him to call her. The moment her phone began to buzz, she answered it,

“Chuuya?”

“Been a while, Kana! I was starting to miss your voice.” He teased. Kanako chuckled a bit as she walked down the street,

“Ehehe…same…well, how are things going in…America?” She asked. Chuuya let out a long sigh before speaking,

“It’s…going. This place is crazy. I’ve been told that we had free speech, but I might’ve said ‘shit’ in front of a five year old and gotten scolded for it-“ He explained.

“…Huh??”

“She said that ‘a kid like me should know better than to swear around children’ and then complained to the staff at the restaurant.”

“P-Pfff- and what did they do?”

“Basically told her to leave them alone.”

“Hah-! That’s amazing, and what did you do?”

“…I just stood there. I didn’t feel like making a fool of myself.” He sighed as he began to type away on a keyboard of some sort.

“What are you doing now?” Kanako asked as she made her way to the Port Mafia.

“I’m just typing my report. I was sent here to put out fires but I got swept up in some other business, so what was gonna be almost a vacation just turned out to be a huge business trip…” He groaned a bit, “I just wanna go back to the mafia where everyone is. I miss sleeping in my own bed, everything here feels lonely.”

Kanako frowned a bit as he spoke, and she tried to think of what she could say to make him feel better, “Well, when you come back…I want to spend some time with you.”

“Aww, you do? I’m more than excited for that, Kana.” He said affectionately.

Kanako blushed a tiny bit, and she swallowed, “Yeah, me too.” She looked ahead, “I’m almost back to the Port Mafia…which, by the way, I heard about something strange going on lately.”

“Oh? Something strange?”

Kanako lowered her voice, and she stopped moving, “Mhm…apparently there’s a serial abduction case going on.”

“Serial abduction case?”

“Yes. People in Yokohama have been going missing somewhat frequently in the past couple of weeks. I haven’t heard much about it, but I have my suspicions of what could be going on.”

“I see…well, once again, please be careful.” He requested of her. Kanako nodded,

“Of course, I’ll be careful.” She began to walk again as she made it to a crosswalk that would lead her to her destination.

“Alright then. Well…I’ve got some work to do, so I’ll be busy. I’ll talk to you some other time?” He asked.

Kanako paused a bit, and a slight upset sigh could be heard escaping her lips. Chuuya picked up on this, of course,

“Kana? Do you…not wanna hang up?”

“Hm? N-No it’s fine. You can do your work, that’s more important…”

“…You sure?”

Her heart sped up as he asked again, and she debated whether she should tell the truth or let him go, which she ultimately decided on the latter, “…Yes, I’m sure. Do your work, then you can come home quicker.”

Chuuya chuckled a bit, “Alright then. I’ll see you later, Kana.” He said affectionately.

“Of course…you as well, Ch-Chuuya.” She hesitated a bit when saying his name, “Bye then.”

“Bye, Kana. Lo-…Bye.” Chuuya hung up quickly.

Kanako seemed a bit confused at his quick hang up, as well as the slip up he seemed to have caught before fully finishing his sentence.

When Kanako finally entered the building, she looked around at the warm lighting. It always welcomed her, no matter how far she had to go in order to get there. While she was examining the hall, she could hear the sound of clinking, followed by nonsensical rambling about something or other. She made her way to the hallway that it came from and looked down it,

“Kajii?”

“Hm? Oh, well if it isn’t Kana!” The man snicker as he approached her, carrying a large bag of lemon bombs. Kanako glanced at the bag,

“What are you gonna do with those…?” She questioned him suspiciously.

“Oh these? Just a little…experiment.” He laughed.

Kanako rolled her eyes and chuckled, “Of course, an experiment. Are you plotting something for the Agency?”

“Ooh, you were always one to spot things quite easily,” Kajii grinned, “But of course it is! That Weretiger—Atsushi was his name? He’s quite the interesting subject, you see! I mean, for an ability as simple as transforming into a tiger of all things, the Guild is fetching quite the hefty price for him!”

“Yeah, that is interesting I suppose. I wonder what the full scope of his abilities are…and why it’s so important to the Guild.” She crossed her arms and put her finger to her mouth, “Perhaps it’s the nature of his ability…? I mean, it’s not very often that an ability completely transforms someone's body, much less into an animal…some abilities can alter one’s body but not fully change it…”

“I like how you think, Kana.” The scientist chuckled, “The nature of his ability is indeed rather strange, I can’t think of anything like it. Perhaps that is what led to him having such a high bounty price.” He rubbed his chin with his thumb and finger, “But we won’t find out if we can’t catch and deliver him.”

“That’s true, so I guess we have to do what we can to capture him.” Kanako rubbed the side of her head,

“Correct! So now I must conduct a plan of action to get him to hand himself over!” He said excitedly, “You’re more than welcome to accompany me if you wish, Kana.” He said with a grin on his face.

Kanako took a second to realize she’d been asked to be with him, and when she did her desire to not be alone disappeared. The thought of being with someone now that she’d been asked to seemed unbearable, and she wasn’t sure why.

“…Kana? Why is your face doing that?” He asked as he pointed to her expression.

Kanako realized how scrunched up her face had gotten and she shook her head, “Oh? S-Sorry…I didn’t mean to make that face, I was just thinking.”

“I see, did you hear me though?”

“Y-Yes, and although I appreciate the offer, I’ll have to pass, sorry…” She sighed. Kajii nodded in understanding,

“Alright then. I’ll get to work on my experiment then, just remember that I’m always available~” He laughed a bit before walking off.

Kanako stared at him as he walked down the hall, and she felt a pain in her heart. It had been forever since she’d spent time with anyone since Chuuya left, it was hard to open up knowing that she didn’t have someone to run to if things went wrong.

She turned and walked to the elevator, she selected her floor and waited patiently to arrive. Once the door opened she walked down to her room with her bag still held closely, and she used her key to enter her room.

The moment she entered, she dropped her bag to the floor and immediately began undressing. She took a pack of cigarettes from her bag and entered the bathroom. She tossed her clothes onto the floor and stepped into the hot shower, which began to fill up the tub as she leaned back in it.

Kanako realized that she had forgotten her lighter, and she glared silently, she grabbed a razor and placed a light cut on her arm, then activated her ability to retrieve it from her bag and bring it to her.

Once she had the lighter, she lit the cigarette and leaned back further in the water as it dangled from her lips, the smoke rising gently from the burning tip.

She looked up at the ceiling and took a breath in, then pulled the cigarette from her lips and let it out, “…What more is there to do in a day, I wonder?”

She closed her eyes as she thought about the people that she was surrounded by, her family, her friends, her men.

“…Ah, yes. My men.”

She ran her fingers through her hair, “Work’s been stagnant for us all. We haven’t been to battle in a while, I wonder if my skills as a commander have gotten rusty.” She took another huff from the cigarette and let it out. The water grew closer and closer to the top of the tub, and she sat up to turn off the shower head. She leaned back again and simply soaked in the hot water for a while.

As Kanako slowly submerged herself, she began to hear a voice in the back of her mind, “…Can you really continue to command 100 men? Even 50 seems like too much for you. You’re overstepping, you should just give up.”

Kanako clenched her fist at this voice, and she gritted her teeth, “Shut up…”

“Why do you need an army anyway? You’re better off alone. You don’t need soldiers.”

“They are not soldiers…”

“Then what are they, hm? We both know that you would give them up in a heartbeat if it meant it would save your own skin.”

“What the hell makes you think I would do something like that…? I’m not heartless, I just…”

“You’re not heartless? You killed two people yesterday and you went drinking today because of how your job stresses you out. You didn’t even think about the people you killed, because you never do.”

“Just shut up…” Kanako sank further into the bath water.

“You know I’m right. I’m the real you, the one you want to bury. The one that you’re afraid of becoming, but you will.”

“Ugh, shut UP! You bitch, what do you know?!” She yelled to herself as she grabbed fistfuls of her hair and dropped the cigarette from her mouth. She looked down at the extinguished cigarette in the bathtub and she let out a groan before lifting it from the water and throwing it into the trash can.

“Great, now I’m surrounded with cigarette ash…” Kanako squeezed her hair again and glared at nothing.

“Everything around you should burn, Kanako. It all should turn to ash.”

“Dammit, for the love of god will you just-?!”

She then heard the door to her room open, and she listened closely as someone entered, “Kanako? Are you here?”

“Huh? Oh, um…” Kanako slowly sat up from the water and turned towards the bathroom door, “I’m in the bath, Mom.” She called.

“Of course you are.” Her mother, Risako, came closer to the door, “Your sister is busy and needs you to watch Koko for her! She’s asleep right now, can I just leave her in your bed for a bit?”

Kanako blinked a few times, trying to process what was being said.

Kanako’s niece, who actually shared a name with her, was the daughter of Kanako’s sister, Mai. The girl was hyperactive and nothing like her mother, at least not as of lately.

She thought for a moment, “Um…I’m not sure, can’t you watch her, Mom?”

“Oh, I would, but I have to patrol…”

“What about Taiyou? You know, Koko’s dad?”

“Oh him? Like hell I’d leave my grandchild with a man like him.” Risako walked somewhere else in the room, as Kanako heard her voice get a bit quieter, but it soon came back to its normal volume, “You know how I feel about him.”

“Right, right…” Kanako sighed, “Your thoughts of him are confusing to me.”

Risako groaned, “I’m not stupid, Kanako. You have to trust me when I say that…”

As she continued to speak, Kanako noticed that she was beginning to zone out, and she shook her head, “Wait, what was that?”

“Do I need to come in?” Risako asked.

Kanako hesitated for a moment, then slowly pulled the shower curtain in front of herself, “Yeah, come in.” The door opened and her mother stepped in, a tall and rather fit woman with light purple hair that was both tied in a bun and hung halfway down her back, as well as green—almost pink—eyes.

“I was saying that he can’t be trusted, no matter what.” She finished.

“But you won’t believe her, will you? Even though you know she’s right.”

Kanako grunted slightly at this voice, and she tried to cast it out without making a scene in front of her mother, “Mom, please, can you just stop complaining about Taiyou and find someone else to watch Koko? I’m exhausted and slightly buzzed, I can’t handle her if she acts up…”

“You’re buzzed? How much did you drink at the bar, Kanako?”

“Mom, it’s not that big of a deal…”

“Tell me!”

“Ugh…” Kanako rolled her eyes, “I had like, six drinks, and they were pretty heavy, but I swear I’m not that drunk!”

“Kanako!”

“Mom!” She sighed, “I’m just…tired from all this heat, it’s hard to function…”

“Then what are you doing?! Get out of the tub, you’re gonna pass out from heat exhaustion! Did you even turn the cold knob?” Risako approached the bathtub and grabbed the edge of the curtain,

“Wait, don't do that-!!” Kanako yelped as she accidentally activated her ability and cut her mom’s hand, “Huh? Oh my god, wait, I’m so sorry-!”

“Ow! Be more careful, Kanako!” Risako sighed as she pulled her hand back quickly and examined the cut, “It’s not too deep, don’t be too upset, Kanako…”

“I…I didn’t mean to hurt you, Mom, I just…”

“It’s okay, I shouldn’t have tried to open the curtain, I know how you feel about being seen.” Risako stepped backward, “I will find someone else to watch Koko, just try to take it easy, okay? Your men are worried for you, they haven’t seen their commander without eyebags for almost a few weeks now.” She stepped out of the bathroom.

Kanako sighed at the mention of her men, and she leaned her head on the palm of her hand, “Right, right, I’ll visit them…they all stay in the same place anyway.” She yawned and looked down at the bathroom floor, which was beginning to get wet.

Kanako closed her eyes as she leaned her head on the walls of the tub, her wet hair almost touching the floor.

“So you’re just gonna sleep it off? You’re gonna act as if you didn’t just hurt your mother?”

Kanako didn’t have the energy to respond, she simply stayed in the same position.

“Fine. Ignore me. Ignore who you really are.”

Kanako stood up from the tub, turned off the shower, and unplugged the drain. She stepped out into the room and grabbed her towel, she then glared at the mirror.

“Look at yourself. So hopeless-“

“SHUT UP!!!” Kanako screamed as she slammed her fist into the mirror, shattering it. Blood from her cuts dripped onto the cracked and broken glass, her face wasn’t recognizable in the state that the mirror was in.

When Kanako pulled her fist back, she turned on the sink, rinsed it off, and simply left the bathroom without cleaning the mess.

“…Broke another mirror, hm?”

“Why are you doing this to me…?” Kanako asked herself as she stood in her bedroom, “Why are you so hell-bent on making me suffer?!”

The voice went silent, and Kanako never got a response. She clenched her fist and yelled again, “Oh, so you’re quiet now?! Now you’re keeping your mouth shut? When I want an answer?!?” She let out a shaky breath as she dropped the towel to the ground and went to her closet, where she grabbed an outfit and put it on.

“Dammit, what the hell is wrong with me…?” She asked herself as she put on her underwear, “This voice in my head, it won’t go away…” She put on her button-up shirt and her shorts, “Unless I want it to tell me something…” Kanako put on her vest and swung her jacket over her shoulders, not bothering to put her arms through the sleeves before adjusting her shirt collar and grabbing her hat.

Kanako groaned to herself before grabbing a spare sheet and throwing it over her bathroom mirror, the sight of her reflection in the cracked glass making her head her. As she turned to leave the bathroom, her eyes caught the sight of another mirror, which she covered up with a nearby blanket. She let out a shaky breath and turned around to leave the room, grabbing her phone from the small table next to her door. Kanako locked the door behind her and made her way down the hall with her phone clenched in her hand.

“Covering things up? But you can’t even do that for yourself around all of those men, how dirty.”

Kanako nearly yelled out loud in the hallway as she held her phone to her chest and clenched her teeth, “S-stop it…! Why are you only back when I don’t want you to be-?” She said with a shaky voice. She stood there with her hands close to her body, keeping herself small and defended like a rat.

She took a deep breath and walked towards the elevator, where she selected the button for the lowest floor, where all the people she commanded stayed. The way the building was organized made things much easier. Lower ranking members remained on the bottom floors, the main offices and miscellaneous rooms such as the gym and weapons rooms were on the main floor, higher ranking members such as Kanako were on the fifth floor, and the top floor belonged to executives, as well as Ougai Mori himself. The floors between the main ones were used for more general offices.

The elevator wait took a little while, but she eventually made it to the bottom floor, where the smell of alcohol was rather strong compared to what she was used to. Other than that, the place was well-kept and organized. Each person got a room to themselves and the main room was always clean, despite everyone usually hanging out in it.

When Kanako looked around, the place was surprisingly empty, and she felt a song of fear in the back of her mind,

“Ooh, did they leave you? It’s been so long I wouldn’t be surprised, you’re so unreliable~”

Kanako deeply breathed, “She doesn’t deserve my attention…” She spoke to herself. But Kanako didn’t realize just how much attention she was giving this voice until an arm came around her shoulder from behind, “What?!” She gasped and turned around, grabbing the person’s arm and swinging them over her shoulder. She let out an exerted huff of air as she realized how heavy this person was, and the feeling of their skin beneath her fingers, that familiar texture that was lined with scars. She turned around and looked down at the person who approached her,

“Damn, Kana! Wasn’t expecting that from you!” A large man with dark skin and a wide smile said with a hearty chuckle.

Kanako blinked a few times, “Kai?! I thought I told you not to sneak up on me like that, you scared the shit out of me!” Kanako said with an exasperated sigh, “I thought I was getting kidnapped…”

“Is that a common concern for you…?” Kai sat up and rubbed his back. Kanako simply shrugged and grabbed his hand,

“Maybe, maybe not. I might just be paranoid…hyup-!” She pulled him up and ran her fingers through her hair, keeping her hand there for a bit as she looked up at the man, who was at least six feet tall, an entire foot taller than Kanako herself, “Where’d everyone else go? Don’t tell me that after three years they all bailed…” She frowned as she sat on the bench in the room, Kai sat next to her,

“Oh hell no, Kana! We’re your guys, you can count on us for everything. It’s just that things have been pretty stale lately, we’re waiting for things to spice up, y’know? They’ve all been hanging around in their rooms.”

Kanako let out a sigh of relief, “Oh, phew…that’s good. I was worried.”

Kai patted her back, “Hey, don’t worry too much little lady. You’re a strong commander, everyone here knows they’ve gotta stick with you,” He grinned, “Or else.”

Kanako rolled her eyes and swatted at him, “I’m not trying to scare them into submission, Kai. I also didn’t ask for any of them to dedicate their lives to me, but here we are.”

The man ran a hand over his mostly shaved head as he chuckled, “Yeah, yeah. I mostly did it. But c’mon, can you really blame me?”

She sighed and shrugged, “I’m…not sure.”

Kai looked down at her with a frown, “Kana, what’s wrong? You’ve been acting all gloom and doom lately. You’re killing the vibe here, y’know?” He raised an eyebrow.

Kanako just shook her head, but didn’t say anything.

Kai debated whether or not he’d say something, but as he was about to open his mouth one of the doors down the hall opened. A pale man of medium height stepped out, he had a cigarette hanging from his mouth, and a mess of brown hair sat atop his head.

“Oh hey, it seems like the lady’s back.” He said with a grin. Kai glared at him a bit,

“Listen, Mao. Now ain’t the time for your flirty bullshit, so pack your bags and get a move on.” He said demandingly.

Kanako looked up at Mao, “…Oh, hey there.” Kai gripped Kanako’s shoulder with a warning, but she just ignored it, “What are you doing?” She asked Mao,

“Just checkin’ things out, y’know. You’re looking pretty good, hon. Did you just get out of the shower?”

Kai growled, “Mao.”

“What? I’m just tryna make her feel better, that a problem?”

Kai tightened his grip on Kanako’s shoulder as he felt her shiver with discomfort, “It is a problem when she’s clearly not a fan. Now what did I say? I’m her right hand man, and if you don’t get your ass gone I’ll beat you over the head with the nearest chair I can get my hands on. Understood?”

Mao glared at Kai and spat at his feet, “Fine then. Be that way.” He turned around and held his thumb and pinky up to his ear with a wink, “Call me if you need me, Kana.”

“Hey, you can’t call her that.” Kai snapped.

“K-Kai, it’s fine, just be glad he’s leaving…” She pushed his hand off her shoulder and sighed, “Did he even listen when we brought him in? I’m off limits to everyone in the squad…”

“That dumbass probably thinks he can still get in your pants cause he’s so ‘charismatic’…gimme a break.” Kai folded his arms and rolled his eyes.

“And you won’t let him in? How lame, you could use someone to loosen you up a bit~” The voice spoke with a taunting tone. Kanako clenched her teeth in order to keep herself from yelling out loud, but Kai noticed her tense body,

“Oh shit, right, spit’s on the floor.” He said as he saw the liquid at his feet. “I’ll get that cleaned up, you relax.” He patted her shoulder before getting up and grabbing a mop.

The truth was though, Kanako hadn’t even noticed the spit yet, and now that it had been pointed out her skin began to crawl. “O-Oh, yeah, please clean that up…” She scooted away from the spit.

Kai began to clean up the mess, eventually deciding to just mop the entirety of the already clean floor all over again. Kanako clenched her hands close to her body, her palms began to calm up as her heart raced. Her eyes landed on a plant that had been slightly shifted from where it should be, and the voice in her head grew louder,

“Go ahead. Cry. Lose your mind over something stupid that nobody cares about. You’re alone, aren’t you? You don’t have that boyfriend of yours to run to-“

“Sh-Shut up…!” Kanako clenched her fists and teeth.

Kai glanced back at her, “Kana, you wanna go back up to your room? You’re looking pretty stressed, and it’s getting late. You should head back.” He suggested. Kanako let out a shaky sigh,

“…R-Right, right. I’ll… I’ll go back, sorry if I stressed you out…” She told him as she stood up. Kai glanced back at her,

“Nah, you’re good. Just remember I’m here for you, alright?”

Kanako stood in the doorway for a bit before speaking up, “Of course, thank you…”

Kai nodded, then coughed a bit.

“And Kai? I’m…here for you too. As much as I can be.”

He cleared his throat, then nodded and smiled, “Yeah, of course, Kana.”

Kanako looked back at him, smiled a bit, then turned around and walked into the elevator.

Hope you enjoyed chat

#original character #my writing <3 #my writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr #bsd fic #bsd chuuya #bsd #bsd ocs #bsd oc #bungo stray dogs fanfiction #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs chuuya

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luminari-mc · 3 years

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My Human, My Sunshine - Part 1

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort.

Pairing: GN!MC x Mammon

Word count: 5194

Summary: Mammon finds himself lost in the human world. Meanwhile, MC can't get ahold of Solomon, their phone dead silent.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: My first writing piece for Obey Me! It's kind of a long one so I recommend you grab a snack or two during it. While this part is occupied by a good amount of text messages between Mammon and someone else, I'm already thinking of writing a part 2 which will have way more dialogue. In the meantime, please enjoy this little scenario I came up with after listening to a song that set me in an angsty mood. :)

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Wet. Cold. Exhausted. And completely lost.

Mammon felt all of those, and yet, his legs kept on marching into the dead of night, his jacket covering his head despite being too drenched to protect him from the rain anymore. Each time a droplet of water came rolling on his cheek, his wrist would come to brush it off, and Mammon would let out an annoyed groan. If only there were any shops open, but the city was definitely asleep. He was thankful for the crashing sound of the rain on the ground around him, along with the smell of the wet asphalt keeping himself awake, otherwise, he surely would have gone crazy by now. The demon had even lost count of how many hours he had been wandering through the streets, how many mailboxes he had checked, how few passersby he had come across, only to receive negative answers to his questions.

And so Mammon kept on walking, not sure where to go next. But he felt sure of one thing: he wouldn't stop moving until he had found what he was looking for. Be there rain, or no rain. Lost or not.

"Tch, the human world's weather really sucks..."

As he walked on the pavement, his brow furrowed from the lack of new clues as to where his destination was supposed to be. His eyes caught sight of a bakery he had already walked by earlier during the day, its gentle light piercing the darkness that had been accompanying him for far too long now. Mammon's brow furrowed slightly at the sight- he knew he had gone in circles time and time again, but seeing it confirmed once more rubbed him the wrong way. Despite that, he decided to walk towards it, and took shelter under the entrance's porch. Surely the owners wouldn't mind him checking his phone for a few minutes, right? Right.

Pinching between his fingers the precious D.D.D. he had tucked under his shirt to protect it from the rain, Mammon looked at the map again. His stomach dropped for the upteenth time upon seeing the address still showing in his search bar, the letters and numbers taunting him. A knot formed in his throat as he tried his best not to scream at his screen.

"It wasn't there, you idiot..."

His mouth formed into an angry pout. Mammon looked into the list of potential addresses he had made throughout the day, and all had been crossed out. He felt his jaw clench- not only was he left with no addresses, no other clues, no humans to help him, but also that stupid rain surely would keep on falling for the rest of the night.

He was truly cursed.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do now?!" Mammon groaned, his free hand reaching upward to grab at his hair in frustration.

Yes... that was a good question. What was he supposed to do? It wasn't like he could ask help from any of his brothers, or from the angels. It had already been a miracle a witch he knew accepted to snuck him into the human world without anyone knowing, but there was no way he'd get any more help from her without offering his own life in exchange. And contacting Solomon was absolutely out of the question, for his own obvious reasons that he still was suspicious of the guy.

For the longest time in a while, Mammon felt alone. More alone than he had ever been before. He had promised himself to go on this search on his own, stupidly thinking that it'd be over by the end of the day, and look where that got him. Lost in the human world, on the verge of catching some nasty human virus from all this rain that had poured on him, and without anyone by his side.

The grip on his phone tightened, the hand holding it shaking slightly as the anger was starting to consume the demon. Even Mammon's patience had its limits, and he was starting to reach it.

"Dammit, where the hell are ya-"

A pathetic yelp escaped his mouth as he looked in fear at his phone, which had buzzed for a very short second in his palm. Wait, was it a notification? But from who? He had taken all the necessary precautions before leaving, so who was still able to reach his number?

His mind ran through all possibilities as he quickly checked his screen, the name of the sender making him open his eyes wide.

Leviathan: Mammon!!

Leviathan: Where are you???

Leviathan: You promised me you'd play this new game with me after coming home from RAD, don't tell me you forgot?? It's been HOURS.

Leviathan: Also the others say they can't reach your DDD and Lucifer is seriously pissed!

Leviathan: And I know you didn't break your DDD, that wouldn't explain why I can send texts now and the others still can't. Even though mine didn't work before.

Leviathan: But do you know how much time and effort it took me to find a way to bypass a blocked number?? Well guess what, the same amount of hours since you broke your promise!

Leviathan: You're reading this, right? Then send something! Anything!

Mammon backed even more into the porch of the shop, his eyes stuck to the screen of his phone. All of the blood rushing to his head suddenly made him forget he was cold in the first place. Of course Levi would be the first to find a way to contact him.

The demon's chest rose as he breathed in heavily, his hands slowly wrapping around the phone. It took him a hot minute to get ahold of his trembling fingers so as to not make any typos, his mind debating whether responding was a good idea or not, even as he hit the send button.

Mammon: Sorry Levi, gonna have to postpone the gaming session.

Mammon: I got business elsewhere and I'm not sure when I'll come back home, if ever.

Leviathan: Ew stop sounding so gloomy, you're almost starting to sound like me and tbh it would be kinda creepy.

Leviathan: That still doesn't tell me where you are! I know it's like a common thing for you to get into shady stuff on a regular basis but even Lucifer seems concerned, and weirdly enough he's not even trying to hide it???

Leviathan: He's been pacing back and forth in the common room for 20 minutes and won't let go of his phone it's starting to creep me out.

Leviathan: Hey huh, if you really were in big trouble you'd let us know, right? Like, even by typing a secret message to let us know that you got kidnapped or whatever?

Leviathan: Nevermind, I really don't see why you'd even get kidnapped, so it HAS to be that you chose to disappear by yourself.

Leviathan: But anyway! It's been 2 months now since everyone's been acting weird and I've seen and heard you enough to CLEARLY see that you're getting worse but finding trouble with witches or whatever won't help you feel better. And yes I know you've been faking being fine the entire time!! Don't think you can fool me!!

Leviathan: Believe me and the hundreds of figurines I bought!! I thought they'd help and it's somehow doing nothing, I feel like the worst fraud of an otaku EVER!!! How can I call myself an otaku when I can't even find joy anymore in the things that make an otaku what he is??

Leviathan: It's like I'm losing my identity! Wait no screw that, it's not just me, we've all been losing it!!

The three dots of a message being typed disappeared and reappeared, and Mammon couldn't do anything but watch the messages of his brother pop up one after another on his screen. A sense of guilt surfaced inside of him, and it only made him frown. It's not as if he hadn't thought about asking Levi for help, before getting himself into this mess... but for both of their sakes, he had decided that it had to be him coming here, and only him.

But suddenly, just as he expected his brother to send another message, the three dots disappeared, and didn't come back right away. Mammon's focus on his phone increased at the unexplained absence of new texts from Levi, and he waited, expecting him to continue the chain of messages he had started. But nothing followed.

It wasn't in Levi's habits to suddenly stop texting in the middle of a flood of texts. The demon gripped his phone tighter, worry beginning to grow within his mind. Was it because they were in different worlds that their phones couldn't reach properly? Or worse- had Lucifer found him out?

His heart almost skipped a beat as the three dots reappeared under his eyes, before letting another message pop up.

Leviathan: wait

Leviathan: waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwait

Leviathan: OMG NO WAY

Leviathan: MAMMON TELL ME YOU'RE KIDDING

Mammon: I literally haven't said anything?

Leviathan: YOU PERFECTLY KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT

Leviathan: DON'T TELL ME YOU'RE IN THE HUMAN WORLD RN??

Shit.

How did he even find out?! Well... he could only assume that it wouldn't take a genius to figure out where Mammon could have gone if not anywhere in the Devildom, but still, why did Levi have to type it out? His plan was supposed to be flawless after all.

Mammon: Sorry bro, I can't say where I am.

Mammon: I know Lucifer's bound to check all of your DDDs sooner or later and that's only gonna help him find me.

Mammon: And like I said, I have something to do, so I can't come back.

Leviathan: Wait! I'll delete all of our messages, and I'll even destroy my DDD if it means you tell me why you're there

Leviathan: Actually no don't even answer, there can only be one reason you took that kind of risk

Leviathan: Is it... because of MC?

Upon reading their name again, Mammon felt his stomach sink. The eyes of the Avatar of Greed closed almost instantly as if to avoid reading it, the damp air whistling through his teeth as he breathed in deeply. Of course Levi would figure that out too. Any of his brothers could have.

The demon leaned his head against the wall behind him, his eyes opening and staring into nothing as he contemplated telling Levi about his plan. It wasn't as if he had any backup plans considering the situation he was in, after all. And Levi had the advantage of being at home, and having access to technology and magic that could improve his search further. But the thought of Lucifer figuring everything out still haunted him, making the hair on his skin stand straight.

And yet... At this point, he had nothing else to lose.

Mammon: Ya gotta promise not to tell anyone about this.

Leviathan: Who do you take me for? I'm not a snitch!

Leviathan: Especially if it's about MC.

Leviathan: But huh... what about Lucifer? You know that if when he finds out you went to the human world, he's going to kill you.

Mammon: Fuck Lucifer.

Mammon: I'm tired of hearin' him say he's "taking care of it". He clearly knows something but won't tell any of us and I'm tired of not getting any news from MC since they left the Devildom 2 months ago.

Mammon: And what's with his excuse about them not havin' their DDD anymore to contact us? I call that a load of bullshit.

Mammon: Something weird happened and Lucifer's too stuck-up to let us know what it is.

Mammon: So I'm done waiting around to see when they'll come back, or IF they'll even come back. So I'm going to get them myself.

Mammon: Problem is, I went to MC's place, and they weren't there. Their neighbor told me that they moved out a while ago with, get this, "a guy with white hair".

Leviathan: ??????? Solomon?????

Mammon: I'd bet my Demonio and all the things I possess that it's him.

Mammon: Not only Lucifer's in on this secret thing about MC, but Solomon too. I've already booked him an appointment with my fists if he did anythin' to them.

Mammon: Hell, even Diavolo and Barbatos seem to be in it too, which sucks even bigger time.

Mammon: So that means it's just us 6 who don't know shit. I wasn't about to play nice and dumb for Lucifer any longer.

Leviathan: Mammon

Leviathan: I never thought I'd ever write something like that to YOU

Leviathan: but

Leviathan: you sound super cool rn!! That just makes me wish I could have gone too!!

Leviathan: Pleasepleaseplease let me help!!! I'm also worried about MC and I miss having them here. The atmosphere at the house has sucked ever since we realized we couldn't text or call them anymore and I huh... kinda miss seeing them around the others too.

For a split second, Mammon considered taking a screenshot of Levi's last message to sell it as "the proof that the Avatar of Envy can control his jealousy!", but now wasn't the time for that. He had Levi's approval for helping him find the whereabouts of MC, and that's all he needed at the moment. He hadn't even noticed his lips turning into a small grin upon reading his brother offering his support.

Mammon: Alright Levi listen.

Mammon: All I'm tryin' right now is to find where MC might be.

Mammon: I don't think they left the place I'm at, but I ain't about to search at every damn house there is here. Would take too much time anyway.

Mammon: So can ya use your shut-in powers and figure somethin' out? Like I don't know, catch their human phone's signal or whatever through hacking?

Leviathan: Lol? I'll let you know it's not because I spend my entire days in my room that I know how to find a human phone!

Leviathan: I know how to hack yeah, but I don't know how to hack human technology! Not that I maybe tried once or twice and it resulted in failure each time.

Leviathan: But huh... I could try?

Leviathan: Let me ask Satan if we could use magic too.

Mammon: Satan? Levi, are you stupid? Last thing we want is to get more people to know about what I'm doing.

Leviathan: Oh huh yeaaaah, about that.

Leviathan: I should have told you sooner, but when I stopped answering earlier it's because Satan caught me texting you.

Leviathan: But he actually knew you had left to the human world! So we don't have to worry! He's on our side... obviously.

Mammon: Then the two of you get on it.

Mammon: And don't catch Lucifer's attention.

Leviathan: Yeah!

Leviathan: I'll let you know when we've found something.

Leviathan: BRB!

And then just like earlier, Levi's texts stopped appearing on his screen. A sigh left Mammon's lips as he closed his eyes, and the demon allowed his body to slide against the wall behind him until he was sitting on the ground. As he stretched out his sore body, the second-born finally realized that after two whole months of not getting to hear MC's voice, seeing their smile, getting to touch them... he had gotten closer to finding them, all thanks to his brothers. He had let Lucifer's intimidation get the best of him throughout all this time, but not anymore. No matter whether his older brother would catch wind of where he was, and what he was doing, Mammon would never stop trying to bring back MC where they belonged. With him, in the Devildom, back with the family they had found and grown to love.

Closing the messaging app with his thumb, the picture of MC he had set as his D.D.D. background seemed to radiate like the sun. How dared them all try to separate his human from their first man? From the one who'd they come to whenever they had a nightmare and couldn't fall asleep? The demon who'd hug them as tight as possible in their bed after a long day at RAD? The one who'd had the chance to fall asleep with them, getting the absolute honor of seeing their face so close to his, and who'd protect their dreams from any bad thoughts and scary nightmares?

The anxiety that Mammon had worn on his face all day slowly disappeared, and a small smile was placed upon it instead as his eyes met MC's in the picture.

"I'm almost there. Ya just gotta be patient a little more."

I'll find ya.

Time went on as Mammon waited for any news of Levi and Satan's research. The rain showed no sign of clearing soon, and the demon was starting to doze off after spending his entire day without taking a single break. He could have almost fallen asleep if it hadn't been for the owner of the bakery opening the door to close his shop and asking him to sit somewhere else. So Mammon moved from one spot to another, and took shelter near another store instead.

After what seemed like an eternity of waiting on the stone steps he had sat on, his phone's screen flashed a bright light as a new notification from Levi appeared from the top. Quickly passing his wrist on his tired eyes, Mammon tapped on the new message at the speed of light. The contents made him gasp, and for a second, he had almost forgotten how to breathe, as his now wide-open eyes were glued on the content of the message.

A full-on address, along with a picture of the place.

Mammon instantly stood up at the sight of the picture, the memories of his day resurfacing in a flash. He remembered very clearly seeing this particular building sometime during his search- its height had been making it stand out very easily amongst the other buildings in the city. Nobody couldn't mistake it with anything else.

Mammon: This is it?

Leviathan: Yeah, we placed down a map and confirmed it was there.

Leviathan: Satan actually found a book in his room with a spell that can help find a person's specific item with just some of their DNA.

Leviathan: So we went to MC's room and found some hair that Satan used for the spell, along with his phone so it could narrow down the list of MC's items.

Leviathan: I didn't think Satan's room could look even more of a mess, but he spent 10 minutes shoveling through his collection and now you can't even see the floor or his bed anymore lol

Leviathan: Anyway now that you got what you wanted, go and check if MC is there!

Mammon felt his legs move on their own as he flipped his jacket above his head and stepped under the rain again, a confident grin now brightly adorning his face as he typed on his phone to reply.

Mammon: Thanks Levi. I'll owe ya one.

Leviathan: Find MC and bring them back. Then you can consider us even.

Mammon nodded, a newfound hope filling his entire body and mind. After confirming that Levi had ceased texting him, the demon turned the phone off. He opened his hand to drop it on the wet floor, and let his right foot crash down upon it, the object almost breaking in half. Mammon promptly gathered in his hand the shattered item, now completely unusable, and threw it down a nearby sewer before letting his excitement take the best of him and sprint further in the direction of the building from the picture. At least, now Lucifer wouldn't be able to track him down with it if Levi and Satan got caught.

The more distance he covered, the more Mammon could swear he was about to take on his demon form at any moment. The thoughts of MC began to fill his head even more, as if they were the one pushing him to find them, to get to them as soon as possible. For the first time in 2 months, Mammon felt truly alive.

"Almost there. The Great Mammon's coming for ya, MC!!" he let out in the form of an encouragement to himself, his legs having found their energy again as his form was engulfed further into the city.

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

Anxiously pacing around the room, their head low and their phone in their hands, MC was growing more and more impatient. They were supposed to receive an update from Solomon about three hours earlier in the form of a phone call, but no matter the amount of messages they'd spent in the hopes of the wizard finally answering them, all they received was a dreadful silence. Grabbing a nearby chair, they let their body fall onto the seat as their fingers typed yet another message. They couldn't really understand how they had come to grow so persistent when it came to getting Solomon to reply to them, but having no other person to talk to ever since they left the Devildom 2 months prior would do that to anyone, they assumed.

'Solomon, sorry, I know I'm sending a lot of texts, but you said you'd visit today and I'm starting to be worried and... honestly a bit lonely. I thought going out today would help, but I just sat in the park for an hour before going back home and not doing much of the day.'

'You were supposed to meet with other wizards today, right? I hope nothing bad happened. But in case you're alright, all I'm asking is just one reply to at least get some sort of human connection. Not that I had a lot of it in the past few months.'

They felt their throat tighten upon writing their last sentence, feeling the frustration spilling out of their own words right back into their face. But who could blame them?

2 months without seeing, hearing, or even texting their friends back in the Devildom. 2 months without receiving a single visit from Luke or Simeon. 2 months spent exclusively with the company of Solomon, who had been acting strange ever since and had made them move out of their home under the excuse that it was to "train them at magic in a more private setting". But more importantly... those had been 2 months without having Mammon around, and MC would lie if they said they hadn't spent several nights crying themself to sleep, wondering how the demon was dealing with their absence.

The memories of their latest departure from the Devildom played in their head like a movie as they placed a hand on their forehead. Everything had seemed alright at the time, with them getting to say their usual goodbyes to the brothers, wishing to see them again once the new year at RAD would start, foolishly thinking that they'd get to spend their time hearing their voices on a daily basis once they were back in the human world. And before they could understand, their DDD had been taken from them, Solomon had been more present in their life than ever before, and for a reason they still couldn't grasp, it was as if the brothers had vanished from their life completely. No news whatsoever. Complete radio silence.

Just thinking back to this period, and how they could have probably caught that something was up as soon as Diavolo asked for their DDD after the brothers had left... it just made them want to puke.

But nothing could make them want to do so as much as the long-awaited reply of Solomon appearing on their screen.

'Hi MC. I'm deeply sorry I couldn't get ahold of you throughout the day. I won't be able to visit you today, since my services are still required here. Besides, it's getting late. I recommend you go have a good night's sleep as soon as possible.'

'If everything goes smoothly, I should be able to come back tomorrow. Then, we'll be able to go walk wherever you want. How does that sound?'

'I need to be going, but I shall wish you a good night. Take care, MC.'

And just as quickly as he had answered, Solomon went silent again. Leaving them in this apartment they had grown to hate, this prison cell he had put them in. A place where no fun could be found for them. MC didn't even bother sending anything else after that.

Their head sunk even lower, until their forehead slowly met with the hard surface of the dinner table. The phone faceplanted onto the wood as MC's hands turned into hard fists, a deep groan shaking the walls of their throat. It was hard not to let the tears escape their eyes, but instead, they opted to punch the table several times as hard as they could, until they felt their anger diminish.

How long was Solomon going to act ignorant towards them? How long was he going to ignore their pleas to get news from the Devildom, anything that would let them know why they couldn't contact the brothers, Diavolo and Barbatos? Even if the lords had been in some sort of trouble... they'd still find time to talk to their human, right? There was no way Mammon, the one they loved, wouldn't try to reach them one way or another... right?

Him who had been so clingy in such an adorable way every time they'd be at the House of Lamentation, he who had revealed to them that there wasn't a single day where his thoughts wouldn't drift to them no matter how hard he tried...

No. No amount of important duties would explain why Mammon of all demons, would ignore them like that.

They missed his antics. His entire being. The warmth he'd bring them each time he'd hold their hand before tucking his face into their neck like a pouting child, desperately trying to sneak one or two kisses in there, in the hopes he'd get to hear that sweet giggle of them. It wasn't for nothing that Lucifer had come to name them the chaotic duo of the House of Lamentation. They were two parts of a whole.

And yet, the world had dared to separate them. And MC was tired, oh so tired of not having their other half near them. The only feeling they had left, was one of pure desperation to see their greedy demon.

"I'm not asking for much... even a single word would do." MC replied to no one as they turned their head to rest their cheek onto the table. They closed their eyes, the anger slowly being replaced by a profound exhaustion. Could they really do nothing but act normal around Solomon, and accept that this was now their new life? No demons, no angels, just... humans around them?

Before they could slap the thought away, a loud banging coming from the entrance door made them straighten in their seat, their head turning towards the hallway in a panic. Their heart pounded inside their chest as the banging seemed to go on forever, until they used the back of their chair to push themself up, their legs shaking.

"S...Solomon?" They asked, way too silently for anyone to hear, and fully knowing that the person behind the door couldn't be the wizard.

As if they were waiting for an answer, MC stood there, their hand grasped onto the chair. The banging was insistent, demanding, angry. At this time of night, there were few reasons they could think why someone would mistreat their door in such a way, and MC wasn't sure they wanted to find the reason for it.

That is, until the person behind the door finally let their voice be heard.

"Oi, MC! Ya can hear me right?! Come on, open the door!"

It didn't take long for MC to let the familiar voice enter their ears, and it took less time for them to nearly stumble over the chair as their legs moved in a hurry to lead them towards the door as quickly as possible. Their hands messily trying to open the locks on the door, they were sure their mind had just played a trick on them, and the person outside was going to leave them completely disappointed, but they didn't care. This voice they could only remember so well despite the time since they had last heard it, was simply inviting them to open the door, to check for themselves whether it was true, or just a nasty joke played by their brain.

But as the last lock was undone, and the door was swung open, MC couldn't do anything but just stand there, their mouth agape.

Mammon kept on drawing breaths, his wet hair stuck to his forehead and drops of rain falling from his clothes onto the floor below, so much so that it had started to create a small puddle underneath him. As if the person who opened the door wasn't the one he expected, the demon took a step back, letting his eyes wander up and down on the human he had in front of him, almost in an attempt to check if it was really them. He too, couldn't stop his mouth from hanging open at the sight.

The two of them just stood there for a few seconds, taken by so many emotions at once that they weren't sure what to do. But right as Mammon took a step forward, his mouth opening some more to let out words that he so desperately had wanted to say for so long now, MC's face contorted into one of pure sadness before they rushed towards him. Mammon greedily welcomed them into his arms as they jumped and wrapped their arms around his shoulders, and their legs around his waist. They buried their face into his neck, the warmth of their tears mixing with the rain on his skin.

His embrace only tightened even more as they mumbled his name amidst broken sobs, the sound ever so close to his ear that even though he had his eyes firmly closed, he might have cried on the spot too. But he had found them. He had them in his arms again. After what had seemed like a million years, finally, they were back where they belonged, and he was back with his human.

Almost as if they were about to be pulled away from him, Mammon placed a hand on the back of their head, wanting to protect their entire being from harm no matter the cost. He still wasn't sure why it had taken so long for him to reunite with them despite the obstacles, but at the present moment, nothing else could matter.

The lord had finally found them, and he wasn't about to let anyone interfer between their happiness once more.

"I ain't letting you go." He whispered through gritted teeth, his head lowering into their shoulder. "Ever again."

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

Extracurricular

Warnings: noncon/rape; drinking/drunkenness.

This is a dark! fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Pairing: (Professor) Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Summary: You go out to unwind from your schoolwork but can’t seem to escape a certain professor’s attention.

Note: Pinched nerve don’t care. I’ve written this as I’m laying on a heating pad and praying for absolution. Hope y’all enjoy because by the time this goes up I’ll be at work and hating life.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Midterms were finally over. It had been a long two weeks; all nighters, energy drinks, and stress headaches. Now you were ready to forget it all in a single night.

Your dress was a little too short and a little too tight. A pink number with large sequins. It looked straight out of the nineties; an appropriate choice for your girls’ night. A downtown club was hosting a ladies night with a retro theme and you felt like the spice girl you’d once idolized. And a little buzzed.

Lexi had invited you along with her roommates, Cece and Rima, to dance off the dread of your results. Study had been half the battle, it was still to see if it had done you any good. In your Twentieth Century Lit class, you were certain you’d fallen on your face. Figuratively, though you had done so literally your first day. It had set a precedent for your apparent cluelessness.

You followed the girls inside after your hand was stamped and the flashing lights mingled with the thumping music and filled your body. You were enlivened by the bodies already dancing and the voice that underlined the melody. A single pre-drink and you were already feeling tomorrow’s hangover.

You joined the chaos of the dance floor as Lexi searched her purse and came out victorious with a handful of bills. “First rounds on me!” She sang, “How about it girls? You ready for more?”

“Holy shit, Lex,” Cece giggled, “Another night with the sugar daddy?”

“Don’t call him that,” Lexi retorted.

“Well, what would you call him?” Rima countered. “You fuck him, he gives you money.”

“Shut up before I shut you up!’ Lexi whined.

“Hey, both of you,” you warned and grabbed Lexi’s hand, “And stop waving that around.”

“Oh thank youuuu,” she clung to you, “I’ll have a vodka soda.”

“Wha-- no.”

“Do they have whiteclaw?” Rima asked.

“Ew. don’t,” Cece wrinkled her nose, “I’ll have a vodka too.”

“Fine, vodka cran!” Rima nearly hollered. The girls must have started well before you showed up to their dorm.

You huffed and took the fistful of bills. You sidled through the crowd of pairs and groups writhing and waving to the music. Another drink would make you less aware.

You stepped up to the bar and found yourself nearly bowled over by another patron as she stumbled away with her drink. You knocked the arm of a man leaned against the bar top and turned to apologize.

“Oop, sorry, I didn’t--” You froze and blinked several times in disbelief. The familiar face grinned in recognition. “Professor Drysdale? What are you--”

“I didn’t know it was ladies night,” he spoke over the music, “Had my last exam and thought I’d unwind but--” He looked around. “I didn’t take you for the club type.”

You squirmed as his eyes strayed from your face and you got closer to the bar. “Well, not every night,” you chuckled.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” he raised his hand and waved to the bartender. “Took me a moment, to be honest.”

“Ahh,” you watched the bartender near and he bent to hear your order. You got yourself a gin after your last sour experience with vodka.

You watched the bartender work, unsure of what to say to your unexpected company. His remark stuck in your head. You often sat in his class in your favourite loose cardigan or a sweat with fraying cuffs. Massachusetts was growing colder by the day and only the alcohol and your lack of a damn kept you warm that night.

“So, I guess you’re here with friends,” he said.

“Yeah, just a few of us.” You said as you rubbed your sweaty fingers on the bills. The bartender pushed your drink across the bar but Professor Drysdale was quicker than you as he held out a fifty.

“My treat.” He said.

“Oh no,” you tried to grab his hand but he waved it at the bartender again. “You don’t need to--”

“Come on. Save your money. You college kids need all you can get,” he insisted.

You smiled awkwardly and carefully took two cups in each hand. You lifted them as he watched you. You peeked over at him and found his eyes glued to you.

“Thank you, professor,” you said.

“Ransom,” he corrected you, “I’m not much of a dancer… but I don’t mind the music. Maybe we’ll bump into each other again.”

“Maybe.” You turned and narrowly missed another collision.

You followed the maze of bodies back to your group and doled out the drink. Your fingers were left sticky with soda and you took a deep gulp of your own. You tried not to think of the odd encounter with your professor. It wasn’t too unusual you spotted the occasional faculty downtown; students often stuck to the campus bar. Even so, you were surprised at his interest. In class, he barely seemed to recall your name, even if you were the only one who raised your hand. Well, maybe he had also indulged a little too much.

You forgot your paranoia as soon as you finished your drink. You set aside the plastic cup and lost yourself in TLCs greatest hit. You’d regret it in the morning when it mattered.

🥂

After the second drink, came the third, the fourth, and fifth that tasted more like a double. The lights blurred in your vision and the music made your head swell delightfully.

The night had worn on and as a slow R&B tune came on, you weren’t quite sure what to do. Cece had long ago found a guy to hang off and Rima and Lexi were all too happy to start dancing with each other. You hiccupped and contemplated a break against the wall.

You were startled as you felt a hand on your back and kept from your retreat.

“Need a partner?” Ransom’s voice flooded into your veins like the alcohol; warm and disorienting.

“Huh, oh, no, it’s--” You giggled bashfully. “That’s fine.”

“Come on,” he pulled you against him, your back to his front, “Wasn’t too long ago I was out here with all the coeds.”

“Professor--”

“Ransom,” he purred in your ear. “I like this song.”

“I don’t think--”

“Don’t think then,” he said sharply as his arm snaked around you and urged you closer. He leaned in and spoke in your ear. “Seeing your ass in that dress makes me wonder why you ever cover it up.”

“Pr--Ransom, please, I--”

“It’s just a dance, sweetie,” he grinded into you and you felt a twitch in his pants. “Just like that.”

He guided your drunken body against his as his fingers danced along the hem of your dress. The music swept you up as you dizzily surrendered to him. Behind the haze, you knew it was wrong, but you knew you were strong enough to resist. And part of you, didn’t believe your professor was groping you.

“Mmm, you’re so sweet,” he groaned, “That’s it,” he rubbed his crotch against you, “Let me feel that ass.”

“Professor,” you breathed as one his hands caressed your thigh, “You shouldn’t--”

“Wish you dressed like this in class.” He slithered, “Nice little short skirt. You can sit in the front row and give me a little peek.”

“Stop,” you hissed as your vision swam and panic rose in your chest, the gin making you unsteady and uncertain, “Please.”

“Please,” he echoed, “I love to hear you beg me, sweetie.”

“I-I-I--” you stuttered stupidly and finally tore away from him. “I have to pee.”

Your ankle bent in your heel and you hurried past him. You nearly fell as you batted away his hand and fled to the restroom. You stopped by the doorway at the edge of the floor and looked back. Ransom watched you with head tilted and a smirk on his lips, unbothered by the drunk horde around him. You turned and quickly shielded yourself with the door.

You took a breath and ambled forward to stare at yourself in the mirror. Were you that drunk or was your professor really trying to get in your pants?

🥂

When you returned to the girls, Ransom was gone. You didn’t look around for him much, afraid you might find him. You finally tore Cece away from her partner as Lexi began to lean heavily. You took her under the arm and realised that every one of you were a mess. It would be a parade of fools trying to get home.

You got your jackets from the check and went out into the bitter cold. You shivered as you left Lexi to hang off Rima and you swayed as you hailed a cab. A yellow taxi pulled up and you opened the door as you ushered the rest of the girls in. A hand rested beside yours atop the door.

“Looks like there’s no room for you,” Ransom said and you flinched as you looked at him.

“I can get in the front,” you argued weakly.

“Ride with me.” He raised his hand to call another cab, “You don’t wanna overcrowd the car.”

“No, I can--”

“It’s cold!” Cece pulled the door from your grasp and it slammed, nearly knocking you over. “Driver, Western Building on campus.”

“Wait--” The driver pulled away without pause and you stumbled off the curb.

Ransom caught you and pulled you back up. He wrapped his arm around you as another taxi appeared.

“You’re pretty fucked up, sweetie, I can’t have you riding alone,” he opened the door and bent to usher you inside. You struggled but not much, hauling yourself across the seat as he followed closely. He gave an address you didn’t recognize as he shut the door.

“What-- where--” You touched your forehead as you leaned back against the seat. “Professor--”

“I like how you call me that,” he reached over and rested his hand on your leg, “Don’t worry, sweetie, better you come with me than some creep.”

You grabbed his hand and tried to push it away but it didn’t budge. He squeezed your thigh and got closer. His other arm went around your shoulder and drew you against him.

“It’s okay, sweetie, you’re tired. Just close your eyes.” He hummed. “I’ll get you back safe.”

You shook your head but your eyelids drooped against your will. The dancing, the gin, the weeks of sleep deprivation piled atop you and dragged you into a blurred stupor. You felt detached from the world as it passed outside the car windows and suddenly a door opened and closed. Your body was moving but not of your own volition.

Your vision cleared for a moment and you looked up at a large house with immense windows. You blinked and you were inside. You sat for a moment as Ransom moved around and you were lifted up. You were cradled in his arms as he carried up a flight of stairs and through the unfamiliar hallway. You bounced atop a mattress with a jolt.

“Wha--” you quivered and tried to sit up. Your head spun as your lashes fluttered.

You sat dumbly, barely able to hold yourself up on shaky arms as Ransom undressed. You babbled as he revealed his muscled chest and thick arms. He was entirely unlike the first, and only boy, you’d been with. He was a man.

“I’m drunk…” you slurred, “I can’t… you’re my--my--”

“That’s right,” he reached into his jeans pocket, his fly open, “I’m your professor,” he pulled out his phone and neared. He nudged you so that you fell onto your back and pushed your legs apart. You looked up at him as he snapped photos of you. You raised your hand to try to hide yourself. “If anyone were to find out you tried to seduce me, and for a better grade, you’ll be expelled. A star scholar like you, untouchable for any university in the country. Pity.”

“You can’t.” You murmured as you closed your legs and tried to sit up but found it almost impossible. “You…”

“I will and if you try to blow the whistle, I’ll do it first and I’ll be a whole lot more convincing than the girl everyone saw piss drunk tonight.” He sneered, “Now open those legs for me, sweetie.”

You didn’t move. You hugged yourself with your arms as you were caught in a heavy tide. You were terrified, worse; helpless. You listened to the rustle of his clothing and the mattress dipped by your feet.

His hands began at your ankles and glided up to your knees. He pushed your legs apart as you held them together. You were forced to relent as he pinched you viciously and your muscles quaked. He moved between your legs and rubbed your thighs as your skirt rode up. He pressed two fingers along the crotch of your panties.

“What’s the point of these in a dress like that, huh?” He began to tease you through the fabric, “What’s the matter, sweetie? You scared?” He slowly pulled aside your panties and touched your folds, “Am I your first?”

You shook your head and squeezed your eyes shut. You whimpered as he flicked your clit.

“Maybe not your first but definitely the best,” he purred, “Ah, ah, you’re already wet. Kept you waiting all night, didn’t I?”

“Please, I don’t want to--”

“Shhh,” his fingers slipped down to your entrance and he traced it carefully, “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you want,” he poked his finger inside of you, “But your body does.” He added another and glided in and out of your easily. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

“P-p-pl--” Your voice fizzled as he curled his fingers and pressed the hell of his hand to your clit.

Your eyes rolled back and your eyelids shut. You were lost in a daze of pleasure and confusion. You were trapped but that coil winding inside you didn’t want to escape. The knot of nerves tangling tighter and tighter overpowered your fear and had you bracing the mattress. Your legs bent without a thought and your back arched. Ransom hummed as he guided your body closer to the edge.

Your nails curled into the duvet and your toes clenched. You tried to breathe, the taste of gin still on your tongue, and cried out instead. You shook as you came but it didn’t feel like your body. You felt as if you were floating above as you were used by this man. Your legs went limp and slid straight as you panted wildly and the world was specks of light as you opened your eyes.

“Teacher’s pet, aren’t you?” He taunted. “You always have the answers.”

You focused on Ransom as the room remained a fog behind him. A halo seemed to limn his figure as he drew his hand from your cunt and licked his fingers. He delighted in the taste and planted his hands on the bed and bent over you.

“That smug little smile when you’re right. You’re always right.” He hissed. “I had girls like you in my classes. Always thought they needed a good fuck.”

You touched his chest and pushed pathetically. He chuckled as his nose brushed yours.

“You know, when you bend over to get a pen from your bag, I can see straight down your shirt,” he winked, “It makes me wanna bend you over myself. You know how hard it is to teach when you’ve got me all riled up?”

“I didn’t-- Never…” you murmured, your head lolling as you found it hard to follow his words, hard to keep from drifting away entirely.

“I was going to wait until the break… Tonight was unexpected but not unwanted,” he uttered as he reached between your bodies. He dragged his tip along your folds. “You should know what you do to me.”

He stopped at your entrance and slowly pushed inside. Your mouth formed an O and he groaned with each inch. His arm came back up and hooked under your shoulder as he sank to his limit. You moaned at how full you were. Your walls hugged him and you grasped his shoulder as you tried to pull away from him.

He grabbed your jaw and held your head straight as he glared down at you and jerked his hips.

“That’s all you, sweetie,” he muttered, “Does it hurt you like it hurts me?”

He began to thrust and your legs bent around him as you tried to ease the pain. Since your regrettable high school sweetheart, you hadn’t done anything more than some foreplay and that had been shameful, if not forgettable. You closed your eyes, your head swirled and your body bounced against the bed as the darkness embraced you.

When you opened your eyes next, your head hung to the side as Ransom held himself over you, arms straight as he rutted. His gaze clung to the joining of your bodies and the slick noise of it. His hair dangled down from his head as he watched himself fuck you, slamming harder and faster each time as if driven by the sight.

You winced and let out a moan. It hurt, delightfully so, but in the back of your alcohol-laced mind, you knew it was wrong.

He lowered himself slowly, bending to take your nipple in his mouth and suckle as he continued to rock against you. His thrusts grew sharper as his groans sent a rumble through your chest. Your thighs tingled and your core thrummed as you were overcome by your drunken ecstasy.

Your voice filled the room as you came again and you didn’t realise it was yours. Ransom drew back and sat up as he lifted your pelvis, crashing into you as hard as he could as he bared his teeth. His eyes were smoky as he grunted and his motion turned frantic.

“I’m gonna- ahhh,” he took several long thrusts as he flooded you with his orgasm.

He kept going until the sensation made him spasm and he hung his head. He reached down to spread your cunt and admired it as he slowly slid out. As his cum leaked from you, he scooped it up with his fingers and pushed it back in, spreading the rest along your folds.

“Shit,” he said as he grazed your thighs with his nails, your eyes closed and consciousness fading with his voice, “Such a good girl…”

🥂

You felt as if you were buried in sand when you woke up. The world was too bright and yet too dull. The night before was blank, a void, and your surroundings were a greater mystery. The framed manuscripts, the antique side table with a twisted vase atop it, the pristine white walls. You groaned as every move made your head throb.

You rolled onto your back and gurgled. Your stomach stirred and you struggled to keep it from erupting. You turned your head slowly as your hand felt along the arm beside you. Ransom Drysdale, your Lit professor, watched you as you stared back confused. His bare torso made your cheeks burn and the dress bunched up around your waist added to your embarrassment. How had this happened?

“What-- Professor--”

“If I spank you, would you scream that for me? ‘Professor’?” He mocked.

“I don’t--” You sat up and it sent a strike of pain down the back of your skill, “What happened? How--”

“Do you want to see the pictures?” He sat up and his hand tickled along your back. “I think you might be able to guess without them.”

You blinked at him and drew away from his touch. You turned your legs over the side of the bed and took a breath before you stood. You pulled your dress up over your arms and tugged the skirt back down as you searched for your panties.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” He asked.

“I have to get… back to campus,” you gripped your head. “Where’s my purse?”

“Relax,” he cooed, “I’ll drive you back…” You heard him stand and turned as he approached you, naked. “But I think that we should get cleaned up first.”

“I--We--”

“A nice hot shower,” he licked his lips and leaned in, “Or do you like walking around with me all down your leg?”

You reeled and your stomach churned. You covered your mouth and shoved him away. You ran for the small door on the other side of the room and thankfully, found a toilet within. You wretched into the bowl until your body ached. You sensed his shadow behind you.

“You just make sure you wash your mouth out, sweetie,” he stepped past you and cranked the shower on, “I didn’t get a chance to play with that yet.”

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #knives out #dark!ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale #fic #dark!fic #one shot #dark fic

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peralta-guaranteed · 3 years

Note

any hc’s after what happened after amy told jake about her past in 6x8?

This started out as only HCs because oh man is it a heavy topic, but then the blocks phased into each other... so now I guess it's some Jake Introspection drabble.

He obviously doesn't let anything show while he's still with Amy, getting her a change of clothes and that brush (that she does use), working further on the case and driving her home (she's far too tired to drive them like she usually does, and almost falls asleep in the passenger seat too if he didn't keep her awake with the most idle of chatter he could think of). He wants to be supportive and not pull her into another discussion or question-round, she doesn't need that on her shoulders and it's not her job to help him through this. But it's swirling through his head. So many more thoughts and questions and memories he needs to sort through.

Hence, this whole 'can't sleep so I'll watch tv' situation. It usually works quite well to distract him, and Amy has often found him snoring on the couch in the morning during a particularly difficult case, or after a fight with his mom. But today he can't even find a show he wants to watch, because his brain can't concentrate on anything on the screen.

Amy conked out almost immediately after they got home and had some sort of dinner, and he tucked her in and whispered to her sleeping face how much he loves her and how they're gonna fix this case, at least, and then he was left alone with his thoughts. Which is never a good thing. He's alternating between worry, sadness and frankly, rage. He wants to go back to her old precinct, find that asshole and, I don't know, shoot him? Probably not he's a cop he shouldn't, and even if he wasn't a cop he shouldn't shoot people, but he could hurt him somehow, right? He could take Rosa and Rosa would- wait, Rosa, does Rosa have a story like that too? She probably has, every woman seems to have one. Who the fuck hurt Rosa?! He's gonna find them too and-

He drops onto the couch with a deep sigh, staring at the ceiling the same way he did while lying awake in bed. The whole inevitability and pervasiveness of it all makes him feel... helpless? If that's how he feels, how must the women in his life feel, the ones this actually happened to? (For a brief second, the memory of The Vulture constantly slapping his butt flashes into his mind. The comments he's made about his 'tight, pasty ass' and 'lips that would work better on a good bad girl'. But this isn't about him, and he shouldn't make it about him, and he's being a dick again.) A few weeks later, when another round of 'can't sleep' doesn't lead him to the couch and tv, but rather to a little talk in the dark with Amy, she assures him that if he feels like it is about him, too - it might actually be. But he's not at that point yet, lying on the couch and staring at the ceiling, still faced with the many realisations he's had today about the shittiness of the world. No matter which direction he thinks about it, he always ends up at the realisation that something probably happened in every place he knows to every woman he knows, and how blind he's been about it all. Even if he, obviously, never did anything, he also wasn't supportive or looking out for it and trying to make it better-

Aaaand then he remembers the way they treated Amy when she came to the 99, many years ago. He remembers Charles yucky Wedding Bells comment. He remembers the first of many, many Title Of Your Sextape jokes, and how she'd twitched at it. He remembers digs about both Amy's dates and her un-date-ability from everyone trying to rile up the stuffy new detective. He remembers remarks and jokes about her eagerness to rise in the ranks. He remembers himself doing most of this. So he concludes that, yeah, he did do that shit. He's one of them, in a way. Maybe not in the top ranks, but definitely part of the team.

That brick hits him right in the chest, and he's this close to punching something - preferably himself, but he doesn't know how that would work, Fight Club never really explained it - but he grabs the TV remote instead and types into the Netflix search bar.

He doesn't just watch one Netflix documentary about it all, he watches a t least 3 shows. (It's another shock to see how much material about it there is if you figure out how to look, what a constant topic it already is, how he's barely ever heard anything more indepth about it.) He reads through online articles while watching, going into forums on how to be better, how to be a male ally and not play the White Knight, terms he's heard before, but never bothered to learn the actual definition of.

He's had about 6 cups of coffee when Amy wakes up with her alarms, so she doesn't really notice he hasn't been sleeping. She looks so cute with her still messy hair and tired face with pillow crease lines on it, he wants to hug her and kiss her good morning but is that okay? Right now? After everything?

He gives her an awkward wave from the couch instead, and watches her make her own coffee, and then pitterpatters over to lean against the cabinets when she sits down at the kitchen table. Always at a safe distance. Always not intruding or mentioning something that could hurt or bother her in her few moments 'off' of that case. Always going through the points he's learned now in his head, on how to be there, but not too overbearing, on how to not lead the conversation, but listen.

"Do I not get a morning kiss?" is the conversation she starts, though, because she always gets one ever since he moved in, morning breath and all. It's her favourite part of 'waking up with Jake Peralta in her bed', and today she didn't even get the main part of that list because he wasn't there, and she could hear the TV in the living room, and not even 6 cups of coffee can fool Amy Santiago. She knows he's been awake.

"Wasn't really sure if you- if it's okay-" he mumbles into his 7th cup of coffee.

"Jake, come over here and kiss your wife, please."

He kneels down next to her chair to give her the softest little morning kiss she's ever gotten, and she holds onto his face with one hand so he doesn't just up and leave again.

"You're okay, Jake. You're okay, whatever you do, so don't go second-guessing every touch now, please." She plays with his hair before looking at him again and god, those scared chocolate puppy-eyes are always killing her. "And even if you were not okay at some point, I wouldn't ever be afraid to tell you, and I know that you'd stop immediately."

He smiles at that, very tentatively, and the next kiss she gets is just as timid, but she gets it at least. And then she gets pulled into a bear hug too, while he's still kneeling in front of her, her legs bracketing him in as he buries his face in her shoulder.

"I love you so much, Ames. We're gonna fight this case so hard." She hears against her t-shirt as she leans her head against his.

"Tomorrow I'd like to wake up next to my awesome, supportive husband again. I kinda need him around."

He looks up at her and nods with fervor, and then finally kisses her the way she's used to.

(Two hours later, when he tells Rosa exactly what documentary kept him up and out of their bed that night, she feels something little but bright bloom in her chest, right under the garden of flowers he's already had growing in her heart. He's rooted there, right in her ribcage, and she's never letting him out again.)

#b99 #brooklyn 99 #jake peralta #amy santiago #peraltiago #ficlet #my writing #he said she said #trying to end this on a slightly positive note was difficult I tell ya

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legendarywizarddetective · 4 years

Text

Gym

So this is my first fanfic ever...Thanks for @fanficlover91 for encourage me and also be my beta. All I can hope now is that you like it.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x you

Warnings: fluff, light smut, body issues

Your need to work out again grew bigger everyday. You weren't someone who constantly visits the gym but lately you had some body issues that cant be ignored any longer. You had a hard time left behind you and just moved to London a few weeks ago. Thanks to your new job at a popular marketing agency you were able to afford a small but fancy apartment in Kensington.

You loved your new home and job but what you didn't love was the fact that all your new workmates were super hot model size zero types and you just disappeared in between them when you went out at a club or a bar. Even if you knew that you would never be a size zero it bothered you and you wanted to feel comfortable again. And you wanted to be seen... you needed a rebound desperately. Your last relationship didn't end well and your nightmare of an Ex was one of the reasons for your body issues. In the last months of your time together he barely touched or kissed you. It didn't take long for you to find out why... he cheated on you with one of his fitness trainers in his gym. (of course one of those super hot model size zero types) as soon as you knew what was going on you ended up any relation to him and moved in with your best friend. But that wasn't enough, you needed a total restart. And so you ended up in a new country with a new job ready to start over again. So here you are now, in front of the gym you choose... your were really happy that they offered early opening hours because you didn't want to train next to a fitness bombshell with some super tiny sports bra and the tightest leggings on the planet. As you stepped in one of the training rooms you were relieved, no one was there. Due to the early hour you had all the training stuff for yourself so you opted to start with a warm up on the treadmill. You put your earplugs in and started to run. 10 Minutes in and you were already starting to sweat as you recognized a man coming into the room. Obviously he was a constant gym visitor because his muscles were clear to be seen beneath his sweatshirt and his shorts. His bulky form was definitely easy on the eyes and with no doubt he knew who handsome he is because he exuded some sort of big dick energy. He sat down on one of the benches and started to unpack his bag. You tried to go on with your warm up and pretend that you didn't saw him but eventually he looked up to you and your eyes met.

Your heart started to race as you looked into the blue orbs of his, your mind started to spin and your coordination didn't work anymore... right in front of you stood no one else than Henry Cavill, the Man of Steel, Geralt of Rivia and the protagonist of your nightly wet dreams. You couldn't really process that and so your feet start to stumble and you lost your balance on the treadmill. You just closed you eyes and waited for the impact on the ground. And two seconds later you felt the pain in your ass and the back of your head. Great you thought what a nice first impression. As you opened your eyes again you saw the blue orbs right above you “Hey are you ok?” Henry asked. “Ahm yes I think...its ok. I was just …. a … little... distracted.” you mumbled. He smirked down at you and reached out his hand for you. You took it and he easily lifted you up but your head started spinning again. Before you could loose your balance Henry pulled you in his arms “Easy there. It seems you have hit your head quite nicely” he chuckled. You blushed instantly and tried to move away from him but he gripped you tightly. “I think you need to sit down and drink something” he gestured to the bench nearby “I am Henry by the way” he said “Ah yes hi, I am Y/N... its nice to meet you” you groaned. You were totally embarrassed. Yes you knew that Henry Cavill lived in Kensington but out of all options you could imagine to meet him, falling down on a treadmill wasn't one of them but unfortunately the most ungraceful appearance that you could make. Great, just great. I meet my biggest celebrity crush and make a fool out of myself immediately. “Normally I am alone in here at this time of the day” Henry ripped you out of your thoughts “Are you new here?” “Yes its actually my first day of training today and as you can see I am nowhere near as fit as you are” the words spill out of you without thinking about what you said. Henry chuckled “Well everyone needs to start at some point. And as long as you have a plan how to train everything is alright” You snorted “That is exactly the problem, because to be honest I don't have a plan. I just had a bad feeling because of my workmates...” you started to explain. Y/N what are you doing here... Henry Cavill certainly does not want to know your pathetic backstory you scolded yourself “Whats wrong with your workmates” he asked. “Oh ahmm... nothing and I really don't want to steal your training time away Mr. Cavill” Oh fuck, have I said Mr. Cavill...Shit now he knows that I know him... “Sorry... I didn't want to be bold... It must be annoying to be recognized everywhere and... “ “Hey Hey its totally fine... that's a public gym and I am aware that I can be recognized so please stop apologizing” he stopped you. “And you don't steal my time... So please tell me whats up with your workmates.” You closed your eyes and shook your head. “They...They are all super hot model size zero types and I just disappear in between them... so no one ever sees me” You started to explain. “I really wanted to be seen and start a new life here in London with new friends and some male attention... but obviously everyone just sees the ugly wing woman in me...” “Hey look at me” he gripped your chin in his hands and as you opened you eyes you saw him look over you from head to toe “All I can see is the most gorgeous woman I met in quite a long time. With curves in all the right places and the most beautiful eyes I have seen in my entire life” he whispered. You turned crimson red instantly at his words and tried to look away. “Don't be look away. There is no need to be shy. I mean every word I said.” “But...But there is no way... I mean you are... you and I am just an ordinary woman... “ he silenced you with his lips on yours. Holy Shit I must hit my head quite badly this can't be reality... you went stiff at the touch of his lips and he stepped back immediately. “I am sorry... I … oh gosh... that's so not me, normally I don't do that...but your eyes...your lips...you bewitched me” he stuttered. You started to smile shyly because you never you would have thought that you can make Henry Cavill stumble across his own words because of your appearance. You reached out and touched his yaw. “Its fine I was just surprised...” you leaned in again and pressed your lips on his. Now it was his part to be surprised but after the initial shock he moaned into the touch of your lips. He felt heavenly against you and soon the soft and tender kiss grew more passionate and he searched for entrance with his tongue. You parted your lips slightly and he invaded your silky mouth. Oh god this is really happening, I am kissing Henry Cavill and god is he a good kisser, I am curious if his tongue feels this good everywhere... Obviously you weren't the only one who liked the kiss because Henry gripped your waist and put you into his lap effortlessly. You cant help yourself and started to grind on him and he let out a heavy grunt which was by far the sexiest sound you have heard in your whole life. After several more minutes of making out you felt your arousal start to pool in your panties and shifted uncomfortable, trying to get away a bit but Henry gripped you even tighter. That's when you recognized your effect on him... a heavy boner peaked into your groin and you opened your eyes wide in amazement. In need for air you broke the kiss and looked at him with big eyes “Y/N look what your amazing body does to me” he said totally out of breath. “Feel it” he took you hand and pressed it against his bulge “Oh” you whispered. He leans in against you and whispers in your ear “Please come home with me... I want to worship that goddess of you properly”

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill story #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill drabble #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x y/n

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moregaythanyourealized · 3 years

Text

The Mayor

Part 3

“We start this evenings broadcast with shocking news from town hall. This morning at roughly 8:30 our dear Mayor was killed by none other than Doc Ock. Luckily for us though he is behind bars thanks to the efforts of Y/n L/n, who is now being sworn into office.” The camera showed the procedure and Y/n in a new outfit. A blue dress that fir her quite well. Otto couldn’t stand it. He had only been in prison for a few hours and he already hated his life more than before. He was drugged up and his machine felt much heavier than it used to, he had next to no control of his body. His only way to see the world was through a small grainy TV that was posted in the corner of his cell.

His cell was incomprehensibly unfitting for a man such as himself. An old bed that left a crick in his neck. A toilet which he thankfully hadn’t needed to use yet. And a small table in the corner with the even smaller TV. The walls of his cell were unbreakable. Some material he didn’t know the name of surrounded the outside of it. He could chip at the concrete but the outside wouldn’t budge. Somehow he was sure you had funded the building of this cell. Just to spite him. The TV showed you suddenly and his attention was drawn back,

“It was terrifying to be in the clutches of such a lunatic. I did what anyone would do, if only I could’ve done more to save our dear Mr Thomas. May he rest in peace.” What a load of shit, he thought. You had fooled the people just like you had fooled him,

“What will happen to Doc Ock?” Y/n brushed her hair out of her face and looked directly into the camera,

“After I visit him tomorrow, he’ll be getting what he deserves. I demand justice for the death of Mayor Thomas.” People clapped in the background and Otto shut off the TV trying to get some sleep. He dreamed of you and this morning. He dreamed of how he wished it went.

The rain pouring down over the both of you as he held you close. You’d look up at him and pull him in close kissing him softly and thanking him for saving the city. For saving you. His hands would wrap around your waist and he’d carry you back to your apartment and you two would dry off and have a romantic dinner together. Sharing your plans for the future of New York....

He awoke with a start. Some guard yelling at him to get up. Groaning he lifted himself from the bed and walked sluggishly towards the door. A series of clicks and other strange noises come from the other side of the wall before the door swung open. Being handcuffed yet again he was led to a glass enclosure. This is miserable, he thought. They’re treating me like an animal. He was sealed inside the glass and felt cool air conditioning by his feet. A large vent blowing freezing air and making the space breathable. It woke him up a bit. The effects of whatever they injected slowly wearing off. One of his claws knocked on the glass, no damage. He couldn’t just break out either, there were guards all over the entire prison. When the door opened again he scowled. You looked tiny compared to the metal door and waltzed in as if you were an old friend. You wore a long pale pink coat and black gloves finished off with a black ascot. You looked unbearably cute but knew what you really were,

“What do you want L/n?”

“I listen to the people, and they demanded I see you to know you’re reasoning for killing a public figure.” Slamming his fist against the glass he stared you down,

“I did it because you told me to, you crazy bitch.” You nodded in agreement pulling off your gloves gingerly and setting them in your pocket,

“And I did it because you made it easy, if you had been smarter I might’ve avoided you and picked someone else to help me.” His appendages moved like protective snakes behind him.

“Did you come here just to mock me?” You got closer to the glass tilting your head to see his expression he looked distant. It made you a little sad,

“I don’t want you to rot here in prison. Because despite all that I’ve said...” You cleared your throat,

“The greatest thrill and joy I’ve had so far was the short time I worked alongside you.” He met your eyes and did nothing for awhile. Then he just sighed and turned away from you,

“I can’t deal with this right now.” You frowned and stepped back,

“Fine. I understand you don’t exactly like or trust me. But if there’s anything I can do...just let me know.” God! You really were confusing. One minutes you’re kissing, then you have him thrown in jail and now you’re asking about doing him favors? What are you trying to do to this poor mans head?

“Tell the guards to give me some time before they take me back to my cell.”

—————POV CHANGE—————

He hears the door close and looks around before using one of his metal arms to pry the top off the air vent. He wasn’t going to fit through it but he could tear up the floor around it to make him fit. And that’s exactly what he did. While you told the guards to give him time and to treat him better than other prisoners the doctor was wondering through the giant vents. His brain felt sharp and alert again. So did his tentacles, a flicker of red warned him to stop but he wouldn’t, not when he’s gotten this far. Finally he found a vent to a control room. He burst through the ceiling and killed both the guards. He sat at the computer and began typing. Y/n was going to regret this. With a few clicks and the push of a button all cell doors, outside doors, and gates were unlocked. He’ll had been released and so had New York’s greatest super villains. The city would be chaos and with the record for shortest office time ever, Y/n would be kicked out and replaced. Maybe the new shmuck in charge would know how to handle the city. Leaving the room he flew down the halls. His tentacles taking him to the personal belongings room. Searching the drawers he found what he was looking for. Grabbing his jacket and glasses he exited the building (cue epic music). Walking over crowds of anyone from petty thefts to fellow evil doers he stepped into the freshly fallen snow. It was around noon, by nightfall this place would be a wreck. He saw your car leave the parking lot. His tentacles took over, the flashing red now bright and constant. One grabbed the car while another ripped the door off. He heard your screaming from inside and did nothing to hide the joy spreading across his face. Your face paled when you saw who had wrecked your car and you pushed yourself as far away as you could. He got closer to the car and looked in the gaping hole on the side. You were shaking against the door on the opposite side. A limb reached in and wrapped around her neck. She closed her eyes expecting the worst. But the machine only untied her ascot from her neck and tied it around her mouth. She tried to scream again but it was muffled by the gag. Then ripping leather from the interior of the car it was tied tightly around her wrists and ankles. Pulling her into the cold air she shook her head,

“I think it’s time Brooklyn sees the type of leader you really are. Let’s have some fun.” His voice was different now. Dark and clever. The wreckage of downtown broke your heart. Historical buildings destroyed or burned down. Hundreds of not thousands of criminals on the streets. Between the speed you were going at and the ice in your eyes they all looked like blurs. The wind stopped whipping at your face, you couldn’t see what was behind you but you could tell where you were. The bank, of course. It was hard to process everything. Eventually you stopped trying and just laid across his shoulder. Setting you down he demanded the bank teller open all the safes,

“If you don’t, I’ll break every bone in her body. One by one. When I’m done she’ll be so deformed her own mother won’t recognize her.” The teller scrambled with the keys and began unlocking everything. He laughed and began bagging what looked the most valuable,

“I hope you know this is very much your fault.” He smiled at you. The sinking in your stomach only went deeper. When he finished he picked you up once more like a rag doll and exited the building. Crushing the ceiling on the way out,

“Where shall we go? The city is ours.” He said nothing but got a devious glint in his eyes before taking you back through downtown. He stopped in front of your apartment. How did he know where you lived? When you entered the building it was like a ghost town. No employees or lobby boys. Only the distant sounds of chaos and the ding of the elevator as you ride it up to the top floor. Thankfully he didn’t know which exact apartment belonged to you. He set you down and you pointed to a door near the end of the hall. He didn’t bother to pick you back up or untie your feet so you could walk. He just dragged you behind him along the carpet while he talked about the design of the building. He stopped in front of your door. His human hands found their way to your waist. You tried to wiggle away from him but he reached down. You sighed when you realized he was only getting the keycard from your pocket.

You apartment was cold. He set you on the couch and began trying to light a fire in your fireplace,

“You have a lovely place, sure know how to use the tax payers money huh?” He let his jacket fall to the floor, revealing his bare chest. He must’ve been cold outside without a shirt on. He was out of sight and into your kitchen. He came back with a bottle of wine and a large glass. He left your hands tied but undid the restraints around your ankles and mouth. Taking a deep breath in you went to yell at him. Before you could you were pulled into his lap. Switching the TV on he shushed you and ran a hand down your back making you shiver,

“Is it the end times? Citizens of New York are wondering what is happening? Mere hours after Mayor L/n is elected the city falls into destruction. On her trip to visit Doc Ock it’s believed he escaped and freed the other prisoners. Riots, fires, building destroyed and collapsed in what’s possibly New York’s worst day yet.” The camera switched to different people getting interviewed,

“It’s terrible! I’m afraid to leave my home!”

“I knew we shouldn’t have elected a woman.”

“I heard she was working with the Doctor the entire time!” Tears burned at the corners of your eyes. You couldn’t reach the remote, and if you tried to get up he’d just pull you right back down. Guilt was the main emotion, but you felt some resentment as well. These people knew nothing! You were tricked... kinda, not really. But you never intended for this mess to happen. Karma had finally caught up with you. The people on the news kept taking and talking. You couldn’t take it anymore,

“Turn it off! Please!” Otto shrugged and changed the channel to a hockey game,

“Is all the pressure getting to you, Mayor?” His hand was resting on your thigh while the other held his wine glass. You wanted desperately to shower and go to bed. To wake up in a different dimension where nothing ever happened. The room became unbearably hot. You weren’t sure wether it was the fireplace or the guilt (or maybe something else),

“Could you untie my hands please? I’d like to get out of my coat.” You got off his lap and stuck your hands out for him to untie,

“Last time I trusted you, you and me thrown in jail. I’m not making that mistake again.”

“I’m not asking you to trust me, I’m asking you to untie my hands.” He stood up and began slowly uniting them. He watched you intensely as you took your coat off. Turning away from his gaze you walked into your bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror. You were a strong powerful leader who was going to get out of this mess....somehow.

#doc ock x reader #doc ock #mcu x reader #mcu phase 4 #spiderman #alfred molina #fanfic #tw violence

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3mmafr0st · 4 years

Text

Remember Me Part 3

Previous Part <-------> Next Part

Bucky Barnes x Reader Summary: Y/N has escaped, but where does she go from here? Word Count: 1.5k (Sorry this ones a little short)

Warnings: Homelessness, a striking lack of Bucky, but soon my friends, soon, ANGST, reader not understanding computers very well A/N: Im apologizing for the lack of smut in this part, but I really like following the canon

I was woken up abruptly by a quick jab to the ribs, quickly waking up and going into action. I grabbed the object and twisted it away.

“Hey, I’m not looking for a fight here, just wanted to make sure that you didn’t overdose on whatever you were on last night.” I looked up to see the older man that had talked to me the night before. He was in his forties and dirty looking, but had kind eyes, shielded by a pair of small glasses. “Can’t have the cops pokin’ around here, bad for everyone.” I got up from the wet grass, wiping myself off from anything that may have gotten on me.

“For the record, I wasn’t high.”

“Could have fooled me.” I shook my head, rolling my eyes. He couldn’t have understood the intensity of the situation that I was in. Hydra was probably after me, and I had no idea where to go or what to do about it.

I couldn’t help but think about Bucky, what happened to him and where he was right now. He had to have gotten out, right? He was a better agent than I was, simply in physicality. He had the capability to escape, we would find each other. But how had they found us out? There must have been some sort of suspicion, something that tipped the higher ups off about what we were going to do. How could I have been so careless to allow someone to find out the plan. But that was the past now, I had to focus on what happens next.

“Where’s the closest library?”

I walked down the sidewalk toward the library, trying my best to blend in, looking inconspicuous against the crowd. I was lucky enough that the closest library was only two blocks away, I was already a little tired from last night with everything that happened.

I looked to my left, and sure enough, there was a quaint little library that looked cozy. I shook the handle and pushed at the door, thankful that it was open earlier than most places.

The walls were covered in children’s drawings. I knew I shouldn’t be wasting time, but the entire thing was so uncanny, so unabashedly civilian, something I hadn’t experienced in who knows how long. At the small front desk sat a woman, maybe in her thirties with a small name tag.

“Hello miss, anything I could help you with today?” She smiled sweetly at me, welcoming me into the library.

“Actually, do you guys have computers that the public can use?”

“Yes, they’re right over in the corner.”

“Thank you, also, do you happen to have some paper and something to write with?” She turned around, picking some paper and a pen up and handing it to me. I returned her smile and headed over to the out of date computers sitting at the back of the room.

I turned the old thing on, a sound a little bit like music coming out of the speakers as it booted up. It was then that I remembered that although I’ve shoved a flash drive in one of these and let things happen until it said “COMPLETE,” I wasn’t too familiar with computers . Sure I had wanted to work with those beautiful machines, simply being left alone with one for an hour with a manual and figuring out all of it’s secrets. I had no idea what in me was pushing me so much towards them, but it was there.

Once the machine turned on, I looked at the display. Luckily, it wasn’t too difficult to figure out, there were only two little icons on the screen, and the one that looked like a little trash can was probably not what I wanted. The other was a little colorful circle called “Chrome.” Personally, I didn't see what was chrome about it but I clicked it, and a screen popped up. The word “Google'' was written across the middle of the screen along with a small bar with a picture of a magnifying glass at the left side.

It took me a minute, but I figured out what I needed to do. The first thing that I could think of to search for was Bucky. I typed his name into the search bar and pressed enter, and tons of results flooded the screen.

The problem was that I didn’t know any of the concrete facts about him. I knew that his name was Bucky, and how he was sweet and funny even though we’ve both been through so much, but I didn’t know his last name, or when he was born, or even how old he was.

There was a little tab called images that made the most sense to me. If I could find a picture of him in the pool of “Bucky”s that existed in the world, I could find out who he was, and then hopefully, figure out who I was from there. There were many pictures, at first it was overwhelming, but as I scrolled slightly, I found it, found him.

He looked younger, more innocent, with a short haircut and a blue leather jacket that made me swoon a little bit. He looked different, but I couldn’t mistake those beautiful blue eyes. I clicked on the picture, which led me to a sight called Wikipedia, with his photo in the corner.

“James Buchanan Barnes, born on March 10th, 1917, was a member of the Howling commandos and best friend to Steve Rogers (Captain America).”

I continued reading, writing down the important bits , how he was tested on by HYDRA way back in 1943, and how he was supposedly killed after falling from a train. But he couldn’t have died, I didn’t know him back then, I knew him now.

The name Steve Rogers continuously popped up, so I clicked on it, and was flooded with even more information. Once I had everything I had to know written down after the rabbit hole I had been down, I turned to the librarian to ask her one last question.

“Do you think you could give me directions to Avengers Tower?”

I would have preferred to take a cab but I couldn't without money, so walking 20 blocks was my only option. The tower was huge, and I found it much too easy to walk right in. There were people walking and sitting at tables in the lobby, working at filling out paperwork. I went up to the desk, not allowing them to get a word in before I could say what I needed to.

“I need to speak with Steve Rogers.”

“Ma’am, if you just give us a moment, we can help you.”

“No, you don’t understand, everyone here is in danger, Bucky is in danger.” A man in the back stood up, walking towards me to get a better look at me. His hair was graying and his glasses filled up most of his face. He looked pale, as if he had just seen a ghost.

“Y/N?”

“Get this shit away from me! I told you, I need to talk to Steve Rogers, he’s the only one who will understand.”

“Y/N, I know you don’t remember but we need to do some tests.”

“Please, just get me in touch with him!”

The lab, I’ll admit, was friendlier than most that I had been in. The room was filled with computers and scientific equipment that I really wanted to go and play with for some Rita’s on. There were nodes stuck to my forehead that were oddly gentle, but I still didn’t like the feeling.There was a small TV connected to the ceiling showing the news. A woman’s voice was heard over the mess that was being filmed.

“In breaking news today, wanted fugitive from S.H.I.E.L.D., Captain America, has been spotted in Washington D.C. battling with a masked stranger in the middle of the highway. “

I looked to the screen and immediately recognized him, It was Bucky, my Bucky, fighting it out with Steve Rogers. He had taken off his goggles, the two of them fighting with an intensity that I had never seen before. The only person that could match Bucky in a fight like that was me, so this was damn impressive.

“There! There he is, you need to get me to Washington D.C!”

“Y/N, you need to calm down, we need to help you first.” A second man began to get near me, pulling the leg of my pants up, exposing the metallic nature of my left leg. I panicked and kicked the man away, sending him across the room.

“I don’t need help, I need to get to Washington D.C., and how the hell do you know my name?” I pushed the man off of me and got up, trying to get out of the lab. I had almost made it out of the door when I felt a sharp pain in my neck. I immediately felt woozy, falling back into the chair closest to me.

“It’s gonna be ok, Stats, I’m gonna take care of you,” The graying man from earlier said, helping me back into the lab chair from earlier with music less resistance than before. My vision got spotty, as his wistful, almost bittersweet facial expression was the last thing I saw before total blackness.

#Bucky Barnes #James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes imagine #Winter Soldier #winter soldier smut #winter soldier x reader #winter solider fanfiction #winter solider imagine #marvel #marvel smut #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine

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all1e23 · 4 years

Text

Bad Habit [Prologue]

Pairings: Biker!Steve x Reader

Series warnings: Drug use. Violence. Smut so 18+ please and thank -- No smut this chapter. Sorry to disappoint

A/N: I actually made it on time. I’m as surprised as you are. Just as a warning, Steve is a cocky little shit in this series and... let’s just say he loves women. Okay, that’s all I got.

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!****

It was hot.

Grossly hot. Humid and sticky. The thin shirt you fell asleep in was stuck to your skin despite only sleeping with a sheet covering your lower half.

Why the hell was it so damn hot in your room?

Even with your eyes closed, you could tell your fan wasn’t on thanks to the absence of the soft hums it filled your room with. You must have turned it off by accident. It was unusually warm for this time of the year, and that was when you remembered. You went out last night. This wasn’t your bed, and you weren’t alone. Flashes from the previous night worked their way through the pounding in your head, and you cringed. The bar. Natasha’s place. All those shots. Steve. It was your get over Billy party, and apparently, you decided to get over him by getting under someone else. One-night stands aside; you had to get out of this bed before you melted. You could feel the source of all that heat wrapped securely around your waist. It seemed as though Steve was still warming your skin.

You’d think after everything he’d be all out of heat.

You slowly blinked your eyes open to find the man in question lying on his side next, pretty lashes splayed out on his cheeks and breathing steadily. His beard alone was enough to make your knees shake but mix that with that long blond hair, and it was no wonder you ended up in his bed. You tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear and found yourself grinning when his brow wrinkled, and his arm tightened around you.

It’s unfair how pretty he is.

Of course, he was covered ink, too. He wouldn’t be your type if he wasn’t covered in tattoos and ready to break your heart without a second thought. Your eyes follow the black lines that started on his shoulder and worked their way down his arm. A large eagle with its wingspread sits on his shoulder, falling down to his bicep, where it meets a skull covered in smoke from the flame of a candle sitting his wrist. You could spend all day lying in bed watching him like this, tracing all that ink with your fingers. Maybe your tongue. It would depend on how much time you had to get to know him.

As much as you’d like to see more of him, you’re out of time.

It was a shame you had to leave before he woke up. You wouldn’t mind getting to know more than just his name, and that was exactly why you needed to leave. You promised yourself, no more men like the last. You slowly untangle yourself, gently pushing the thick arm around your waist off and onto the mattress. It took longer than you hoped to find your clothes in the mess on the floor. You toss a pair of dark jeans onto the dresser, a white t-shirt thrown over that pretty leather resting on the chair, and quietly kicked a pair of boots to the side.

From the look of things, he kept his room rather clean and organized -- not counting the mess you both made last night. That had not been your experience dealing with men like him. Your best friend’s husband was the vice president of some club, and he would fall apart without Natasha, though, Bucky was the exception. He was kind and soft under all that gruff. Your ex-boyfriend, on the other hand, the sweet was all an act. He wasn’t exactly dirty, but he didn’t play fair either.

“Where’s the fire? You have somewhere you need to be bright and early?”

Steve’s voice made you pause. Only for a moment. You had been so wrapped up in your head you’d hadn’t heard him moving around. You peeked over your shoulder, smirking at the confusion on his face and slipped on your boots from the night before. Black high heel ankle boots aren’t really the best Sunday morning attire, but you hadn’t thought to bring a morning-after outfit when you left the house last night. This wasn’t exactly how you thought the evening would go. You hadn’t counted on Steve charming you right out of your panties and certainly hadn’t planned to stay the night once they were back on. You don’t know what happened. He went all soft on you, and you couldn’t leave him.

That had been a mistake. A delicious mistake you quickly needed to rectify.

“Yeah, anywhere but a dirty ass biker club at eight in the morning.”

You needed to get away from him before you get hurt because men like Steve always led to hurt, and from the look in his eyes, you didn’t think he was going to let you go so easily.

Steve chuckled, and it made you grin. He thought you were funny. You liked that. Stop. Don’t even go there, your brain hissed at you. Before you could make a break for the door, Steve swung his feet off the side of the bed, letting the dark blue sheet slide off him and onto the floor. Well, it looked like neither of you got dressed before bed. Why didn’t you remember that tattoo his lower abs? Your eyes traveled up to his, and the sultry smirk on his face was almost enough to get you to stay.

“Let me take you to breakfast then,” Steve suggested, obviously realizing you had no intention of hanging around this morning.

Probably wasn’t that hard to gather by your frantic digging as you searched for your phone and purse. Ah! Found them! You tugged them out from under his leather and slipped your bag over your head, letting the strap settle across your chest. Steve was still on the edge of the best, but he was slipping his boxers on, and you knew he was going to get dressed and try to take you to breakfast. If he begged with those pretty eyes? You would be done for and having this man know any more about you was the last thing you needed

You stood between his legs and cupped face, laying a few kisses on his lips before he could get a word in.

“Thanks,” You murmured between gentle pecks. “But no thanks. I’ve got to go.”

“Can I at least get your number? Or maybe your name? Something to remember the woman that rode out of here with my heart.”

You couldn’t help but grin at the stupid lopsided smile he was wearing. He was shooting for charming, missed by a mile, and somehow you still ended up with that dumb fluttery feeling in your chest. You’ve got to get away from this man before he steals what’s left of your heart and breaks that too. You slipped off your necklace, the one that Wanda gave you when you were kids. It wasn’t anything expensive. She got it at a pawn shop when you were teens, and you’ve kept it all this time. It was a simple round gold pendant with the northern star in the middle. So you could find your way, Wanda had said. You supposed it was time to find your own path without the help of childish whims. You slide it over his head and give a tug to the pendant to center it over his chest.

It looked good on him; you had to admit.

“There. A little piece of me to keep with you.”

You pressed another kiss to his cheek. You were going to miss the way his beard felt against your lips.

“If you ever wanna go for another ride, you know where to find me, firecracker.”

Something about the way he smiled when he said ride gave you the impression he wasn’t talking about his bike, but that nickname had you grinning and stealing one more kiss before you hit the road. Why did he have to be so damn cute? He straight out of a storybook or something; if princes wore leather and had blood on their hands. Out of all the men you could have picked to fool around with, you had to find the only one with half a heart. Didn’t mean it was the right half, of course. Steve reached up to pull you back down for another kiss, maybe a half-ass attempt for something more, but you didn’t have time for either. You moved away just in time and strode towards the door.

You were going to make sure this fairy-tale was over before it ever got started.

“See you ‘round, Charming.”

The door closed behind you, and Steve flopped back on the bed with a huff, running a hand over his face. He had no idea what the hell just happened: last night or this morning. One thing was clear; you were running. From what he didn’t know, but you were running from something or someone. Steve had a feeling if he wanted to see you again; it wouldn’t be an easy road. Did he want to see you again?

Shit. Yeah, he did want to see you again. Desperately.

“Ah, fuck,” Steve said with a chuckle and slapped his hand over his chest, clutching the cool metal of your necklace in his hand. He was a goner. He was completely hooked on you, and all he’s had is a taste.

As sweet as it was, he wanted more.

Steve wouldn’t sleep till he did. His head was filled with all those pretty sounds you made for him, and all those delicious images of you writhing in his arms would be burned into his memory forever. You looked so damn pretty on his lap, panting and begging for more. He’d like to give you more if you’d let him, that was gonna be a hard road, too, he suspected. Despite your rush to get away from him this morning, there was something about you Steve couldn’t quite shake. He was addicted, and he didn’t even know your name, but if there was a chance you were feeling what he was feeling, then he was going to take it.

All he had to do now was figure out who the hell you were.

Masterlist // Next

#Steve Rogers x reader #biker!steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers x you #biker!steve #steve rogers x y/n #steve x reader #steve x you #Steve x y/n #alternate universe #MC!AU #biker!AU

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ironmandeficiency · 4 years

Text

two-steppin’

pairing: agent whiskey / reader

word count: 1428

summary: jack surprises you with a pair of boots and plans to go dancing. problem is, you’re woefully unprepared

a/n: line dancing is a superior workout imo, enjoy my self-indulgent desire to dance with one (1) cowboy. ps, another post made 100% on mobile bc i’m bored out of my mind

when jack told you three weeks ago that he was going to take you line dancing, you thought he was joking. he was set to be gone for two weeks plus on some mission or another, and had sprung the date idea on you while lounging in his arms, blankets tangled around your limbs.

but then, the night after he told you about the date idea, a new pair of cowboy boots are on your shared bed with a little note telling you the best ways to get them used to your feet. he knew exactly what he was doing; he had left for the mission that morning and put the boot box on the corner of the bed to greet you when you woke up.

he couldn’t be serious.

you immediately called him at work demanding an explanation. “i told ya already sweetheart, we’re going line dancing soon and i want your feet to be used to wearing the boots. it ain’t fun to dance in boots that ain’t broke in.” other voices are heard from his end and before you can verbally obliterate him for the audacity, he tells you he loves you and will talk to you later, hanging up with a click.

jack’s a stubborn man on his best days, acting more like a mule than a man on the worst of them. there’s no sense in trying to talk him out of the dancing he planned on, so with an indignant huff, you put on a pair of socks and slip the boots onto your feet. nothing could have prepared you for how comfortable they would be, the extra inch or two they gave you and the leather felt under your fingertips.

you had three weeks to figure out how you were going to keep from looking like a fool at whatever bar(s) he took you to. based on his insistence, you knew that it would mean a lot to him if you went dancing with him, and who were you to deny your cowboy of the simple pleasures?

the first step was to buy clothes that matched the vibe jack was going for with the boots he bought — a couple pairs of bootcut wranglers, a few plaid shirts and tanks to wear under them, and just for shits and giggles, a stetson that pulled it all together. you used the card he gave you when he added you to the account his statesman pay deposited into, knowing full well if he took a gander at the statement, he’d see that you were going all out.

the clothes were done, so now it was time for the line dance tutorials.

in all honesty, the only line dance you truly remembered was footloose, and if jack ever heard you admit that you knew he’d be ashamed. you couldn’t help it though, footloose was a classic almost of the same caliber as dirty dancing.

youtube was your best friend during your nightly at-home lessons. you wouldn’t have believed anyone if they told you just how many types of line dancing existed. after your first lesson, you decided to start wearing the boots around the house as much as possible like jack said to and it made a hell of a difference.

through all your searching and dancing, you stumbled upon a song you weren’t sure how to describe. country… rap? hick hop? there weren’t enough words in your vocabulary to make sense of it. but despite your initial confusion at the genre-meshing, the dances for it were actually quite fun. it was a catchy song, one of those that would send adrenaline in your veins when the first notes hit your ears.

by the end of week two, there was no telling how many country songs you now knew the words and dances to by heart. it was safe to say you were proficient in several dances, and a few that you could do blindfolded with your hands tied behind your back.

you were confident that you wouldn’t make him look like a fool, which was your biggest concern from the word go. jack was a dancer through and through. he’d sway you gently in the living room to conway twitty and twirl you in time with tom petty, the grin on his face wider than the brazos. he could cut up every rug he stepped foot on and everyone would know it as soon as they started up the music. every bit of swagger he entered a room with would be all the more prominent when he found his way to a dance floor, and now you were actually excited to join him instead of watch from the sidelines.

then you get a phone call. jack’s ringtone plays its signature chorus of “save a horse, ride a cowboy” and you actually start singing with the song before remembering that it was only playing because of a phone call. gentle words are exchanged, questions about how your days have gone since the last you talked.

“i’m gonna be late comin’ home sugar,” jack’s voice is dejected as he tells you the news and you desperately want to kiss the blues away from him. “there’s a chance i may not make it back in time to go dancin’ like i wanted, it’s all up in the air right now.” a couple days after he had left, he told you more about the date he had planned. it was a gala that hosted a dancing competition that raised money for local homeless shelters and protested against anti-homeless architecture.

“that’s alright jack, don’t beat yourself up about it. besides, it’ll give me more time to perfect my boot scootin’ boogie.” he laughs at your corny joke and you’re happier to hear him smile despite his plans possibly falling through.

“well you do that sugarplum, i’ll call you as soon as i can.”

“stay safe jack, i love you.”

“i love you too, see you soon.”

it was the morning of the gala and there was no telling whether jack would be home in time. you talked to him yesterday afternoon and he had been cautiously optimistic at the idea of being on a jet headed home that evening, but he would have told you had he been able to. all you could do in the meantime was get everything ready that you needed to and wait it out.

the hours ticked by and soon, the gala was less than an hour away from starting. no word had been sent about jack’s whereabouts but you did your best not to worry. he was a highly experienced agent and would do what he needed to in order to come home to you. in the meantime, you decided to do last-minute refreshers on a few of the favored dances you’d been working on. there was nothing else to do and no sense in getting ready to go to a gala you weren’t sure you would be attending, so why not?

jack wanted to find the nearest cliff and drive off it. he couldn’t believe that he was going to be late getting home to get ready for a date that he had planned for you both. there was no time to deal with debriefings or even call you to give a heads up, he had to get home as soon as possible.

he knew that he was probably making much more noise than was warranted as he all but fell through the front door, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. when he walked into the living room and found you in stern concentration, following along with the tv as it taught one dance or another, all he could do was watch.

he leaned against the doorframe, completely enamored by the sight of you dancing yourself silly. the way you grinned in triumph when you nailed a hard move, the laughter that rang out when you nearly tripped over your own feet, it had him under a spell. when this last song ended, he made his presence known with a quiet entrance into the living room. he snagged the remote from the arm of the couch and put on another song, choosing to simply sway with you as you relaxed into his touch.

“what about the gala, jack?” you asked after the third slow song crooned from the surround sound speakers.

jack just smiled and kissed your forehead, pulling you closer. “they can have their fun without us. i’ve got more important plans to tend to, sweetheart.”

whiskey taglist: @catsnkooks @blue-space-porgs @obirain n @themarcusmoreno @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @captainrexstan @battletales @darthadeline @roseofalderaan @majorshiraharu @getdookuedon @max--phillips @andysficrecs @bisexual-space-slut

#agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey imagine #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey #kingsman: the golden circle #pedro pascal #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels imagine #jack daniels

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smolfoxbab · 4 years

Text

okay here’s the Narumitsu angst (with a happy ending)

its my blog and i get to choose the hyperfixation to post about

((1,830 words //tw for injury + blood// hope u enjoy!))

Phoenix Wright wasn’t the type of person to make enemies. At least, not on his own. His selfless nature and optimistic personality made him a likable man to be around, even if he was often clumsy and oblivious at times. However, being a defense attorney was a different circumstance, one that brought a certain set of unspoken dangers with it. In proving his client’s innocence, the guilty verdict was placed onto another. While most of these people posed no threat behind the bars of their sentences, there was no guarantee a grudge wouldn’t push them to seek vengeance.

Miles Edgeworth had plenty of experience with this concept already. He was a prosecutor-- The Demon Prosecutor. Among the death threats and various other attempts on his life, he was all too aware of the risks that came with his job. But he had learned to shoulder them, right alongside the other burdens he carried. He also knew that Phoenix didn’t consider these things, didn’t consider his own safety as much as he considered others. Concussed, tazed, nearly drowned and beaten to a pulp in an infamously deadly river... none of it seemed to phase him. He never slowed in his pursuit for protecting others, and that... that concerned Miles more than anything.

“You need to be more careful, Wright,” he had said once in passing after a trial where a guilty offender nearly wrung Phoenix by the neck, the defense attorney standing just a little too close when the verdict was handed down.

“One of these days something... serious, might happen to you, and you won’t be able to just laugh it off.”

Phoenix only flashed him that dopey grin and said, “I’ll be fine, Edgeworth. For an unlucky guy, I’m pretty lucky.”

Miles wanted to believe that, truly. The man seemed to get off easy in dire situations more often than not, so perhaps he had a point behind his foolish reasoning. Even so, his worry lingered. Luck always tended to run out at some point.

---

Then one afternoon, his phone rang. He had already been driving towards Phoenix’s office, having been called over earlier on the premise of having an “important discussion.” He’d left as quickly as he could, but the traffic seemed to determined to keep him from reaching his destination. It was slow, and he seemed to be hitting every red light possible. It was at one of these prolonged red lights, as he sat impatiently tapping the steering wheel, that a familiar tune sounded off in his pocket. Sighing, he slipped his phone out and checked the screen, not too surprised to see Phoenix was the one calling. Forgot to tell him something in the first call, most likely. He hit “answer” and brought the device up to his ear.

“What is it, Wright.”

There was a raspy breath on the other end before Phoenix spoke, his voice just as hoarse.

“M-Miles, I... I-I uh...”

Miles’ brow furrowed, and he found himself straightening in his seat, grip tightening on the phone.

“Wright? Is something wrong?”

There was another breath, followed by a rather nasty sounding cough. There was then a sound that could have been a laugh, if it wasn’t so strained.

“Ah... s-something like that... I w-was trying to call... hhhah... I guess it d-doesn’t mmmatter... a-are you almost... here?”

The light turned green, and Miles pressed on the gas. Harder than he should have, perhaps, but he was uneasy now.

“Yes, I am. What is it, Wright? What happened?”

There was a grunting sound, and the rustle of paper.

“W-well... fffunny story, ah... there was s-ssomeone at the door and it t-turns out it wasn’t... w-wasn’t you and ahm... shit-”

The hiss was sharp and pained. Miles turned a corner a bit too hastily, nearly catching a street sign as he swung around it. Before he could say anything, Phoenix continued.

“I’m not... I’m nnnot doing too hot, Miles... It’s getting... k-kind of hard to... focus...”

Miles clenched his jaw, trying to hold his composure. He was on the final stretch of road, he just had to get there.

“Stay with me, Wright. Stay on the phone. Do you hear me?”

“Yeah...” came the reply, but the strength in it was fading, “yeah... Miles...?”

“I’m here, Wright.”

He turned into the office parking lot as he said that, haphazardly parking and exiting the car in record time.

“.....what I w-wanted to... tell you... I... I love... you.”

Miles’ breath hitched as he ascended the steps. He would’ve have stopped completely if not for the adrenaline fueling his movement. A lump formed in his throat, which he heavily swallowed as he pressed on. Damn it, why now did he- Damn that man.

“J-Just hold on, Wright. I’m coming up on the door now. Wright? Wright?”

Silence filled the other end of the line as he approached the door, which sat unlocked and ajar. A red smear stained the door handle, while more splashes led across the floor and deeper inside. Miles only hesitated a moment before flinging the door open, rapidly searching the room for the other man. It didn’t take long.

The defense attorney was slumped against a bookshelf near his desk, various papers and books scattered around him, along with his still lit up phone. He wasn’t moving. Miles sucked in a breath as he practically slid to Phoenix’s side, one hand clasping his shoulder while the other went to check his pulse. Thankfully, he could still feel it, though it was weakening.

“Wright? ...Phoenix, can you hear me?”

He tried to get some kind of response, lightly shaking his shoulder, but got nothing. He shifted his gaze downward, where he couldn’t help but spot the dark stain soaking underneath his jacket. He lifted the blue fabric slightly, trying to get some assessment of the damage. It looked too wide a tear to be a gun wound. A stabbing seemed more likely.

“Damn it. Damn you,” Miles cursed under his breath, shucking his jacket off and moving to put pressure on the wound. He set to call the authorities at the same time, his now-shaking hand nearly dropping the phone entirely. He stared at the unconscious man before him as the phone rang, mumbling to himself before the responder picked up,

“If you die, you fool, I’ll... I’ll bring you back and kill you again myself.”

Emergency services responded quickly, and an ambulance was sent with haste. The police force arrived as well, with the ever-diligent Gumshoe heading the charge. Ever-diligent, and ever-emotional, as the detective seemed to blast through one emotion after the next while Phoenix was being prepped for the drive to the hospital. Miles was given the assurance as he boarded the ambulance himself that, no matter what, the culprit wouldn’t get away with it. In the tense silence of the ride that followed, Miles let that statement repeat in his head- let it hold him together. They wouldn’t get away with this. He would see to it personally... Once he was assured that Phoenix was going to make it out of this alive.

---

Several hours of absolutely nerve-wracking waiting in the hospital lobby followed after, but all well worth it when he was informed that Phoenix was in stable condition. That didn’t stop him from nearly throwing the recovery room door off its hinges upon arrival, however. He needed to see it for himself, confirm with his own eyes that the other was alive.

A tired smile greeted him from the bed.

“Hey Edgeworth...”

Miles stood in the doorway for a moment, silent and stiff. Then, slowly, he drew in a breath, let his shoulders relax, and stepped inside with the door closing behind him.

“Wright.”

Phoenix winced at the tone of Miles’ voice, like a child about to be lectured by his parent.

“Look, before you get m-”

“You are an absolute moron, Phoenix Wright. I mean really of all the idiotic- Not only do you call me as you’re bleeding out, rather than contact the authorities-”

Phoenix attempted to interject.

“To be fair I was actually trying to call the-”

But Miles didn’t let him finish.

“But then you have the gall to go and declare- to tell me that you- in such a dire circumstance you decide to claim-”

“Miles-”

“Not seconds before I walk in on what could have well been a murder scene- And what would I have done then? Knowing you had said such a thing before I could even have a chance to process it let alone-”

“Miles if... if you don’t feel the same I-”

“Reciprocate.”

Both of them fell silent then. Phoenix, slack-jawed and staring straight at Miles while the prosecutor locked his gaze to the floor, feeling the heat begin to burn in his cheeks. Phoenix blinked rapidly, beginning to flush a bit himself despite his currently paler complexion.

“Y-y-you mean you-”

Edgeworth huffed and turned towards him, closing the distance between himself and the bed before closing the distance between the two of them. It was an impulsive kiss, and not the one either of them imagined would be their first, but it was real. Phoenix was real, and still here, returning the kiss like it was the most natural thing in the world. A wince and a hiss broke the moment though, Phoenix pulling back to sink into the mattress he’d started to push off of. Miles pulled back hastily, rubbing at his arm with an awkward clearing of his throat.

“A-apologies, I didn’t mean to-”

“No, no- my fault, really. And look I... I’m sorry for worrying you and... how I said that really wasn’t how I meant to go about it-”

Miles cut him off again before he could start losing himself in his rambling.

“I... I know, Wright. I would be far more concerned if your plan had been to confess to me by having a near death experience.”

Phoenix chuckled nervously and looked elsewhere, giving Miles the chance to take up the seat next to his bedside.

“Yeah that’s... a little far out there... even for me. But Miles, you really...?”

Phoenix looked back with a start as Miles took his hand, his grip cautious but protective. Miles attempted to play it off as if he was exasperated, rather than jumbled mess of feelings he was grappling with. The mess of feelings he had been grappling with for some time.

“Honestly, I would have thought just now made it clear enough, but. If I must say it to convince you. Yes, Phoenix. I... I love you, too.”

There was a pause, far too long yet far too short, before Phoenix smiled. Still tired at the edges, but warm and genuine.

“Okay then. I’m... I’m really glad to hear it isn’t just... I’m glad.”

Miles couldn’t help but smile faintly himself, gently squeezing the hand in his.

“...As am I. Now... why don’t you tell me how you got into this mess?”

#narumitsu #wrightworth #ace attorney #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #My writing #fanfiction #*twiddles fingers*#idk if this is any good but

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captains-writing-desk · 4 years

Text

Inappropriate

Universe: BBC Sherlock

Character: Mycroft Holmes

Type: F!Reader insert (I, me, we)

Words: 2,011

Warnings: Swearing.

Note: Jesus lads... This was quite cathartic to write in a way. Took some interesting turns... I won’t lie it almost took a different turn towards the end with cheekiness ;)

Mycroft joins you on a walk after you get angry with him and his brother. Awkward angsty fluffiness ensues.

“Deduce me again Mycroft Holmes and I’ll see to it that you suffer.” I spoke without lifting my eyes from my reading material. He immediately averted his gaze and idly rolled his palm over the handle of his umbrella. “And tell your shit of a brother he can stop fucking trying too.” My voice did not waver once and remained low in tone- perhaps making it more sinister.

“I am right here.” The brother muttered from his arm chair and I raised my brow, peaking over the top of the newspaper for one moment just to reiterate, “Personally.”

“Well we can’t help it can we, it’s something we’ve always done, it’s not our fault that you’re more fun to try. “ Sherlock never knew when to shut up which was one trait Mycroft at least had the decency to inhabit.

“You CAN help by not turning me into a game.” Mycroft looked rather offended as did his brother, “Don’t look at me like that. You’re hardly sneaky about it, seeing who can get a deduction first and just how much fucking money have you both put into this hm? Acting shocked as if you were being so fucking sneaky, you haven’t fooled anybody... Dickheads.”

“I’m sorry, you turned someone’s trauma into a game?” John piped up emerging from the kitchen , my eyes narrowed at him.

“You boys should be ashamed of yourselves. Such an awful thing to do.” Mrs. Hudson followed from the kitchen who was met with a direct glare and with that, I folded the paper up neatly and rose to my feet.

“I rather despise this household sometimes. I’m going for a walk.” I’d had quite enough of this nonsense and had thrown my coat on and shut the front door behind me before anyone could speak up.

“Rather foul mouthed isn’t she?” Sherlock commented.

“Hot blooded.” John hummed in agreement.

“I find it rather endearing, oddly.” Mycroft mused as the room openly stared at him which he took as his cue to also leave.

“I’ll scream.” Mr. Government had caught up to me and I just couldn’t be hassled to deal with him and yet, he persisted.

“I don’t doubt that. Bare in mind however, that we are in London. Nobody would even flinch if you screamed.” He reasoned.

“What if I screamed 'bomb' and threw something?” Highly insensitive yes but I was angry.

“I stand corrected.”

“Yes and what a lovely mess that’ll leave you to deal with.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.” His voice a little grave.

“Then perhaps you should bugger off hm?”

“Perhaps.” Yet he remained by my side even as my pace quickened, the swearing had subsided a little so I couldn’t be quite as angry right?

“Where exactly are you walking to?” I suppose my route made no sense to him, then again, made no sense to me either.

“Why do you want to know? Just follow.”

“So I can follow you now? No need to ‘bugger off'?” He was amused, but not at his comment, rather at the fact I would let him tag along. Not amusement, elation.

“You would be following me regardless and by that standard all you need to know is which way I am pointing and that will be where you’re going too.”

“I see. So we are just wandering aimlessly?”

“I am wandering aimlessly. YOU are wandering after me.” Why did that make him feel stupid? Perhaps it made him think too much into why he liked to stay around me as long as he could.

“Yes, sir.” He was making it seem like my fault, as if I’m ordering him to follow me. Can’t say I minded it.

We made it to Whitehall gardens and ambled through, staring at the flora that had started to turn with the autumnal weather. I was hungry now as I walked through the park and down to the embankment so I bought a pretzel from a little hut whilst Mycroft trailed behind on the phone about something so I expected him to leave soon.

I sat myself down on the wall with one leg tucked underneath myself so that my body was turned slightly and I could gaze through the bars my back rested against and watch the river.

Moments later Mycroft came and sat next to me, mirroring my pose only with his leg crossed over the other instead and he watched me for a moment until I looked at him.

“You can go. I’m quite happy sat here.” Not that he needed my permission to go but it felt as if I needed to remind myself that he could go, that I didn’t need him with me.

“I’ve got nowhere to be.” He raised a brow when he saw me relax, a wave of relief washing over me then the lamposts all turned on, what with the shorter autumnal days. I glanced around at the red leaves now lit up in this strange new light then back to Mycroft who had an amused smile fringing on his lips.

“Good,” I smiled, feeling an odd new confidence, “Do you mind if I stay here a bit longer?”

“Not at all.” He leaned back on the rails slightly as I took a bite of my pretzel, still warm from the vendor.

“Here.” I noticed Mycroft pull the sleeves of his coat down a little from the cold so I tore the pretzel in half and offered him a piece. ‘Does he even like common food?’ I thought and laughed internally at how odd that sounded. “It’s warm” I added still holding it to him. He thought about it as if it was a big decision but eventually took it.

“Thank you.” He smiled, thankful for the bit of warmth it provided him.

“It won’t kill you. Probably.” I looked out across the river feigning being suspicious.

“I’ll take my chances.” He chuckled and took a bite, humming at how surprisingly nice it was as I took the last bite of my own half and shook the crumbs of my hands then tucked them between my thighs to keep them warm.

Once he finished his half he turned further towards me and leaned in slightly.

“I apologise for earlier. It was uncouth of me.” He cleared his throat nervously but looked directly into my eyes where I saw the sincerity in his apology.

“It’s alright, You can’t help it. Besides,” I sighed, “I know you do it often- both of you. I suppose today I wasn’t in the best of moods to put up with it.” Truth be told I’d had a shit day. The sort of day where everyone I encountered decided to make my day worse than the last person had.

“Did anything happen?” He asked and I looked at my hands for a moment before furrowing my brows and looking back up to him.

“I’m not traumatised you know? That’s just John’s theory on me.” I wasn’t sure why I started with that but I suppose it did feed into why my day was crap but more than anything really, I felt the need to explain myself to Mycroft. Maybe explain why I was so difficult and rude. He sensed I had more to say and let me finish.

“Truthfully I'm not really sure what’s wrong with me. I just can’t seem to figure out how to figure out what I feel or what to do. Some things I understand but then I just get overwhelmed to point where I just numb down. I can’t quite explain it but I it just makes me cold and it scares me. I never used to be like this and I don’t mean to be cold but I just am. Then when people point it out it makes me feel like shit and I get agitated but with the wrong people.” I started to choke up, “So I don’t know. I don’t mean to be that way.” I looked down at my hands and started fidgeting to distract myself.

“You’re not cold. I’m sure anyone that knows you can tell you that. You’re perfectly fine the way you are.” He made no great speech just a simple reassurance and it was that- reassuring. “I've never understood people. They are idiots.” He summarised and I laughed.

“That is true. Yes. Mycroft I-“ I looked at him and he leaned in expectantly, “I didn’t mean to unload all that on you.” I shot him an apologetic look.

“It’s quite alright. I’m glad you felt you could say it though. That and it’s my job to make people talk sometimes.” He joked.

“Don’t pull that crap. I did it because I needed to not because you made me. I'd never crack in an interrogation.” I teased.

“We shall see.” He lifted his brow and watched me carefully.

“Did I not say that you would suffer if I caught you deducing me again?” You narrowed your eyes at him with a smile threatening to escape.

“You did.” Though he didn’t stop watching and even cocked his brow playfully which surprised me. Was he flirting? A sadistic smile slowly crept up my face.

“Are you flirting with me?” I returned the scrutinising look and he was taken aback.

“Excuse me?” He recoiled.

“You heard me. Are you flirting with me?” I demanded now, leaning in to catch his eyes until he finally looked at me. “You are flirting.” I could see it in his eyes and I was surprised by my own realisation and honestly elated though I tried to conceal it. Though now I had no idea what to say.

“I’m sorry if I was inappropriate.” He finally spoke, breaking my train of racing thoughts then he stood up. My heart skipped a beat, I didn’t want him to leave. He turned to me and I looked up at him with my brows furrowed, unsure how to proceed. “Perhaps I should l-.“ I pushed myself into my knees, grabbing the lapels of his coat and kissed him. I knew what he was going to say and leaving was not an option so I panicked. I pulled away and searched his shocked expression.

“There.” I took a deep breath and sank back to sit on the feels of my feet, “Now we’ve both done something inappropriate.” I laughed nervously under my breath, drowning in my own awkwardness and searching for any words to say to make this moment go away. I definitely misread the situation, he was definitely not flirting. My head flopped into my hands and I groaned.

“I fucked up... I’m sorry.” I mumbled through my fingers. I only wanted to tease him, make him suffer a little, but now we were both suffering for the wrong reasons.

“You didn’t fuck up.” Mycroft’s voice was gentle as his palm rested between my shoulder blades, pulling me forward until my head rested against his stomach. I really hoped he would forgive me for this cock up but I couldn’t bring myself to show my face, now or ever. However, we couldn’t stay like this forever so he grabbed my hand that was still glued to my face in shame and he urged me to stand up. My legs felt like they barely worked but I managed to sort of flop to my feet in front of him , dropping my other hand to my side and just stared at his chest. He let go of my hand and if my heart could drop any further it would have but instead, it shot up into my throat when he grabbed my waist with both hands. I looked up to see him smile then pull me into him as he lowered his lips to my own.

He pulled back to look at me fluttering my eyes open and staring slack jawed.

“You didn’t fuck up.” He repeated and squeezed my waist reassuringly which snapped me out of my daze. I bit my lip trying to stop the smile they crept onto my lips.

#sherlock #reader insert #mycroft x reader #mycroft x you #mycroft holmes #mycroft holmes x reader #fanfiction

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peachyteabuck · 4 years

Text

clear the clouds (bucky barnes x reader)

summary: after weeks of bucky feels down, natasha knows exactly who to call to make him feel better

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

words: 2,030

trigger warnings: sickening fluff, also - please don’t take kitten rearing advice from fanfiction

notes: this is a birthday present for the effervescent @m00nlightdelights, who asked for bucky barnes interacting with kittens. happy birthday babe!

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

Natasha was the one who called you – asking something many dream for but very few get to experience. It’s hard to transport that many tiny, wriggling animals across town and very few are willing to pay the exorbitant, arbitrary amount of money you had made some intern put on the website after the twentieth call asking about the particular service.

People, apparently, really want to rent a bunch of kittens for several different types of events – finals weeks at universities and rich high schools, bat and bar mitzvahs, once even a wedding. Why those event coordinators can’t rent service animals is beyond you, and why they always expect you to do these things for free is also a mystery.

No matter why those people wanted your kittens, you closed the service except for incredibly rare cases.

One of those incredibly rare cases, per the usual path of your life, involved Natasha Romanoff.

You owed her a favor from a few years back, when she made sure an ex-boyfriend of yours…well, for legal purposes you can’t talk about it, but Natasha made sure he never bothered you or your friends ever again.

Natasha’s got enough tact not to bring the year-long ordeal up – just said she wanted to “cash in” on your side of the bargain. You sighed into the office landline when she told you she was calling for her favor, the exhale so deep it was still audible despite the barking and scratching and the menagerie of other noises.

It takes you a second to collect yourself, to shove the memories back into that little box your therapist had you build and then tuck into the back of your brain.

Despite not being able to see her face, you can tell she’s frowning and has furrowed her brow. “You good?”

You nodded, then remembered how phones work. “Yeah,” you let out a small sigh. “Yeah, I’m fine. You want the kittens at Avengers Towers this weekend for a few hours to help that friend of yours-“

“Bucky,” Natasha interrupts you. “His name is Bucky. And you should go out with him.”

Despite still knowing how phone works, you roll your eyes. “Didn’t you just say he spent the last week bedridden because of depression. It doesn’t exactly sound like he’s in the right state of mind for a relationship.”

Your friend scoffs into the phone, shutting what you think is a thick book for dramatic audial effect. “And you spend fifteen hours a day at your shelter because it gives you an excuse not to see people. I don’t need you to marry him, I’m saying maybe a coffee date would be good for you.”

There’s a pause where you search for a sarcastic response, but Natasha beats you to it.

“Actually, no,” she says, voice dripping with a lovable dryness you can’t help but admire. “It will be good for both of you.”

Another pause while you recalculate your sarcastic response cortex. After a deeply silent thirty seconds, you give up.

“Fine,” you acquiesce. “But you and Wanda are helping me and you’re buying me lunch for that day and you’re helping me during adoption day at the museum next month.”

Somehow, you can hear Natasha’s wide and triumphant smile. “You got it, kid.”

And with that, you hang up before falling back in your office chair. You swear, that woman could convince you to do anything.

Fucking spies, you think before putting the event in the shelter’s e-calendar.

The day arrives both too quickly and not quickly enough – your brain caught between something akin to “existential dread” and “oh my God my friend is trying to set me up with her friend and what if it doesn’t work but what if it does” the entire week before the planned event. During the night before you down quadruple your normal dose of melatonin to fall asleep after spending three entire hours trying on all your clothes to plan the right outfit (in the end, you chose an unusually nice pair of leggings and a plan sweater along with boots cute enough to fool a man into thinking they’re fancy while still protecting your feet from the end-stage winter air outside.

(Also, the leggings and sweater are the easiest things to lint roll kitten fur off of you for, say, a date at an upscale coffee shop you normally wouldn’t even think of going to, but that’s nobody’s business and you totally one hundred percent did not think about that when trying the outfit on.)

You meet Natasha and Wanda at the shelter the next morning, you getting there before them to gather the necessary supplies from the back. Despite them promising to help you load your car with kittens and kitten-adjacent items, you still didn’t want either of them messing with the precious organization system you’d spent years perfecting (and years training interns and vet techs how to abide by it).

Luckily, with your precautions and time management – and despite Wanda’s need to kiss every kitten (yes, every kitten) as they were loaded into crates – you arrive at the infamous Stark Tower right on time.

Set up of the whole thing doesn’t take long, Natasha successfully leading the way through the maze of which is the expansive building. You pass a few people you recognize from Natasha’s stories and the news, and a few others who you don’t but still smile as they pass (whether they were just being nice or smiling at the kittens in the crates you were holding, you refused to decide).

It takes a few elevator rides, but eventually you get to the desires floor and room – Wanda knocking on the door after setting her Ikea bag of playpen supplies on the carpeted floor.

A response is nearly immediate. “Go away!” a gruff voice calls, muffled by the thick walls.

Natasha and Wanda both roll their eyes. “Shut up and open the door!” the former replies.

There’s no verbal response, but you do hear shuffling before the door opens to reveal a figure more brick house than man. His hair is messy, sweatshirt a size too large and solid black but with jeans that fit perfectly. His boots – much thicker and blacker than yours – are dirty.

“What do you want?” he grumbles.

Natasha remains unphased by the man’s demeanor. “We have kittens. Now move out of my way so we can set all this shit up and you can pet some cute animals.”

Bucky gives her a look and rolls his eyes, but steps asides and holds the door open for the three of you nonetheless.

Twenty minutes later, Bucky found in the middle of the four-foot wide pen, bewildered. He’s done a lot of things in his life, many of which would be impossible for (nearly) anyone else to accomplish. He speaks thirty languages (plus Morse code and ten variations of sign language), he’s hunted bears with his bare hands, he’s survived Russian winters and summers in the Amazon rainforest.

Yet, somehow, the thing that stunts him beyond reproach is a small play pen filled with about forty tiny, six-week old kittens that are all their own form of chaotic. Bucky doesn’t know where to look, let alone how to grab the ones that catch his eye. He’s terrified of crushing them like bug caught under a hardcover book, of breaking their tiny ribs or tiny legs or tiny necks.

He watched you intensely when you and Natasha and Wanda pulled them out of their crates, watching how you held them and which one allowed you to give them kisses and which one chased after the strands in Natasha’s ponytail. He noticed which ones curled up in small spheres in the corners of the pen, which ones immediately bopped about, which ones immediately sought out the bottle of formula you’d prepared and which ones nibbled at the liquidy wet food that had been scooped into a neon blue bowl.

Each tiny animal was different, and it amazed him.

There was this one cat, a fluffy little white one with one ear and splotches of buttery yellow seems the boldest, eyeing Bucky as if the man was this small cat’s Everest. The floral collar (one of those break-away ones, you had told him, meant to keep the kittens from getting hurt but allowing the rescuers to identify them by name and rescue identification number) has a small nameplate – a gold one – with “Squirt” etched into the metal.

“Squirt,” Bucky repeats under his breath. “Nice to meet you, little guy.”

The cat gives him a small, pterodactyl-like scream in response, as if the small animal is too young to speak in any other tone but “loud.”

“HELLO LARGE CAT,” he imagines the cat saying. “HELLO, I AM A SMALLER CAT. DO YOU WISH TO BE CLIMBED?”

Bucky smiles at the imagined conversation, allowing the brave creature to dig its tiny claws into the leg of his jeans just above his socked feet (he took off his boots when he arrived in the room, as per your request), the start to his magnificent journey.

“I do not mind being climbed,” the man answers out loud. For once, he doesn’t take in the entire room’s emotions and reactions before he says something – he just talks, even if that freedom from paranoia is only allowing him to speak to someone (or thing) that can’t talk back.

Squirt gets to Bucky’s knee before screeching once more, just as tenacious as when he was on the floor. “THIS IS MUCH HARDER THAN I EXPECTED,” is all Squirt says.

Bucky laughs, ignoring the several other kittens who are trying to claw up Bucky’s metal arm – each unsuccessful but determined to continue to try. “I’m a lot bigger than you realized, huh?”

Squirt takes a few more wobbly steps, tail high in the air, before looking to Bucky for guidance as the tiny creature stands on his thigh. “I WOULD LIKE SOME HELP, PLEASE,” Bucky interprets from the screeches.

He laughs, not moving. Another kitten, this time an equally tiny short-haired black cat named “Foosball” attempts to follow in Squirt’s literal and metaphorical footsteps, but gives up when she gets to Bucky’s knees. This, too, makes him let out a chuckle. “Don’t worry, kid. You’re doing just fine.”

You watch Bucky’s interactions with the kittens intensely – telling yourself you just need to make sure he doesn’t hurt them accidentally. In truth, he was handling them the best you’d seen anyone outside your shelter in a long time – gentle, firm, attentive. His pseudo-conversations warm your heart, and the only thing that breaks your concentration is one of the larger kittens walking up to the barrier of the pen to scream at you from inside her prison that she was hungry. Natasha and Wanda had long left, citing some bureaucratic problem that was probably bullshit but, regardless of accuracy, left you and Bucky alone.

“What does she want?” the man asks, body still frozen as Squirt climbs his chest.

“Butterfly wants to eat,” you reply while you grab one of the syringes with formula.

“Why can’t she eat from the bowl of food?” he asks. It’s not accusatory, just curious. It’s sweet, extremely so, and makes you realize that Natasha was right – this is good for him.

“At six weeks, most kittens are weened from their mothers or,” you pick Butterfly up and hold her against you as she suckles at the plastic nozzle. “In this case, syringes. But sometimes it just takes a little longer.”

Bucky hmms, turning his attention back to the kittens before he speaks again. “Do you want to get coffee?”

You swallow, looking at him look at Squirt. “Like…with you?”

Bucky nods as he sits up, the brave kitten now on his shoulder and several others vying for his attention. “I, uh,” he swallows. “Yeah. Coffee. With me. Like a, uh, a date. With me. Where we get coffee.”

You giggle a little, both at his flustered speech and at Butterfly’s post-feeding tiredness. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Cool,” is all Bucky replies, the both of you now focused back on the kittens.

Dammit, you think. Natasha was right again.

#bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes fluff #maya tag #lukis writes stuff

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nikki-writes-stuff · 5 years

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Beauty in the Blood - Part One

Summary: One day your friend convinces you to join a dating website that matches people based on their search histories, and when you match with Loki Odinson, a handsome, intelligent coroner who’s a fan of your murder mysteries, you’re absolutely thrilled. But there’s something off about Loki, and as your relationship progresses, you discover that his dark side is even darker than you could ever have imagined...

Pairing: Serial Killer!Loki x Writer!Reader

A/N: This story is based off of this post! I hope you guys enjoy; this is my first time writing Loki, and this will probably be the darkest thing I’ve ever written. Please let me know what you think as the story progresses!

Warning: This chapter contains hints of smut and GRAPHIC descriptions of death and murder. Later on, this fic will also include rape/non con, dub con, kidnapping, yandere/obsessive elements, and even MORE graphic descriptions of death and murder. Please read at your own risk, and as usual, this is only for the eyes of those 18 and older. Thank you, and enjoy!

It was hard to find a decent guy these days. New York was the city of dreamers, artists, and absolute weirdos, and out of the three, you only seemed to attract the latter. You’d been to speed dating events and Singles Night at your local bar, but there was never a connection, never a spark, and every guy seemed to have something fundamentally wrong with him. It wasn’t that you were looking for the perfect guy, it was just that you’d met too many who were demanding, controlling, or misogynistic.

You’d given up on finding your special someone a year after you’d moved to the city. After all, being single wasn’t too bad. You could do what you want whenever you wanted without having to think about someone else. So what if you didn’t have anyone to kiss on New Years? So what if you cried a little every now and then from feeling so alone? It was fine. It was absolutely fine, you told yourself. Fine, fine, fine…

“I’m absolutely fine, Wanda. I don’t need a boyfriend to be happy.”

You were sat across from your good friend, who was stirring her coffee with one hand while she tapped her fingers against the table with the other. She arched a skeptical eyebrow at you before taking a sip of her drink.

“You’re right; you don’t. But you’re lonely,” she pointed out. “A boyfriend would help with that.”

There was no denying that she was right. Wanda was perceptive, and she was also one of your closest friends. You’d met her during your first week of living in New York, and she’d helped you adjust to living in such a busy, fast-paced place. She probably knew you better than you knew yourself, and that was why you slumped in defeat and threw back the last gulp left of your mimosa.

“God, you’re right,” you bemoaned. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know,” she grinned. “But don’t worry; I can help.”

“Wanda, not that I don’t appreciate your effort, but the last guy you sent me out on a date with got mad that I didn’t put out after he paid for my dinner. I don’t want to go on any more blind dates.”

She winced, reaching over to pat the back of your hand.

“I had no idea Kyle was like that,” she promised you. “If I’d known he would be such an asshole you know I wouldn’t have set you up. But I wasn’t going to suggest another blind date.”

You tilted your head to the side.

“What did you have in mind, then?”

She grinned and reached into her purse, fishing around until she found her phone.

“I heard of a new dating app that made me immediately think of you,” she explained excitedly, pulling up the website and passing her device over to you. “It matches you with people in your area based on your Google searches!”

“Pfffft.” You scoffed, taking a quick glance at the screen before looking back to your friend. “That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard of.”

“I know, I know, it’s a strange concept. But it has one of the highest success ratings out of all the dating websites! It’s only been around for six months, but over half of its users say that they’ve found someone they can see themselves spending the rest of their lives with!”

“Statistics can be made up, you know,” you groused. “Besides, one look at my browser history would send anyone running in the opposite direction.”

“Maybe not someone who has one similar to yours,” she pointed out. “C’mon, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“Wanda, you know what I do for a living, right? I could match with some kind of serial killer!”

Your friend just waved you off and ordered another coffee, picking up her phone again and stuffing it into her pocket.

“Just try it? Please?” she begged. “Just give it a shot, and if it doesn’t work out, then that’s that, right? No harm done.”

Several hours later, and you found yourself sitting on your couch, staring at the same website homepage that Wanda had shown you. You bit your lip, letting your fingers skim over your laptop’s keys, not typing anything just yet but feeling their ridges as you considered the “Join Now” button.

There wouldn’t be any harm in it, right? Just like Wanda said, if you hated the kind of people you matched with, then you could always delete your profile. And you didn’t only search things for your research, after all; you also googled recipes and cute animal videos. What if you matched with a gorgeous guy who’d also googled “Try Not To Laugh – Kitten Edition”? Hell yeah.

After taking a deep breath to steel yourself, you clicked on the button, making quick work of filling out the ‘About You’ information. Five minutes later, you’d chosen a profile picture and linked your Google account to the website, and you were ready to sift through your matches. The wheel on the screen turned slowly as your computer processed the information, and you actually jolted when it dinged with the results.

Well. Result. There was only one person who’d shown up with a similar search history as you. You let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding, and you almost closed your laptop and went to retreat a pint of Ben and Jerry’s from your fridge, calling it a day and forgetting the whole debacle. But then you saw his profile picture and… Holy shit.

He was lean and pale, and your eyes were immediately drawn to his long, black hair. He had it slicked back in the photo with just one strand hanging down over his left eye. In the photo, he was wearing an exquisitely tailored black suit with a black shirt and tie underneath it, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes trail along the lithe contours of his body. He looked as if he were carved from marble; you almost started drooling just from the sight of him.

You jumped again when your computer dinged for a second time, and your eyes widened when you saw that you had a new message in your inbox. With fingers that were just barely trembling, you opened it, skimming over the message from the man you’d paired with.

Good evening. I must admit, I was quite surprised when I got the notification that we’d matched with one another. I’ve had this profile for about four months, and I’d had yet to be paired with anyone.

So he was handsome and eloquent. You clicked on his profile and blinked when you saw his name. Loki Odinson. Wow. Even his name was refined, if not a little strange; it sounded like a name you’d give to one of the characters in your books.

Hello, Loki, you typed out. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I was pretty surprised to find someone else who has such a twisted search history. I don’t know if I should be happy or concerned.

It only took him a few moments to reply.

The feeling is mutual; I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for the morbidity, though. Mine is that I happen to be a coroner for a living. And yours is…?

I’m a writer, you explained, your interest piqued by his profession. I write murder mysteries. So, yeah… Morbidity seems like a fitting way to describe it.

A writer, you say. I happen to be quite an avid reader; would I know any of your work?

I’m not sure; have you ever heard of The Bell Ringer? That’s probably my most well-known book.

You’re kidding.

He sent you a picture, and it was of a pale hand holding a copy of The Bell Ringer, your name glistening in bold font beneath the title.

I’m a great fan of your work, as you can see. I own several of your novels.

Another photo loaded beneath the newest text, and it was of a shelf full of your books. The Shrew Woman, A Night in New Hampshire, The Hanging Woman – nine books in total. The only one that you’d written that wasn’t there was the one you’d just sent out to your publisher, and you suspected that once it was out in stores, it would be joining the ranks of Loki’s shelf.

Wow! It’s always so nice to meet a reader. I’m so glad you like my stuff!

Oh, love, you’re a huge talent. I must say, I’ve found your work rather inspiring.

That’s so kind of you to say!

I know that this is rather forward, but are you doing anything tonight?

You glanced up at the clock you had hanging on the wall – 8:13 pm. It was already pretty late; typically you’d be putting on your pajamas and curling up in bed to do some late night reading here soon. But something inside of you whispered that you should do it; you weren’t spontaneous enough. What if this was an opportunity to meet the One? At the very least, it would be cool to meet such a loyal reader.

It depends on if this guy I’m talking to online asks me out. Do you think he will?

He would have to be a fool not to. I suspect he’ll ask you if you’d like to meet at a café.

Well, then, I suspect I’ll have to say yes.

An excited grin was plastered over your lips as you bantered back and forth, and when Loki sent you an address and a message saying ‘I’ll see you there in twenty minutes’, you jumped off of your sofa and rushed to put on your shoes. You were still dressed in the leggings and oversized sweater you’d worn to brunch with Wanda, and all you had to do was straighten your hair and pull on your boots before you were out the door. The address he’d sent you was within walking distance of your apartment; in fact, you’d been there before, but never on a date.

Your heart was pounding the entire way over, and you couldn’t get over how unlike you this was. You didn’t just get up and meet guys you’d met on the internet on such short notice, much less so late at night. And yet here you were, stepping into the café fifteen minutes after receiving Loki’s message. Your eyes scanned the room, but it appeared that he wasn’t there yet. As you got in line to order, you tried to calm yourself, not wanting to look too frazzled when your date finally showed up. You tried to even your breathing, twisting the fabric of your sleeves between your nervous fingers.

He’s just a person, you told yourself. You’ve been on dates before; everything was going to be fine. Nothing bad was going to-

“Hello, there.”

You gasped and turned around, eliciting a chuckle from the man now towering over you. He was dressed in a set of black trousers with a simple white button-down tucked into them, and his hair was loose and falling around his shoulders. His grin was wide and full of teeth, with just the slightest sinister edge to it. But his eyes were warm and twinkling with excitement and just a hint of mischief. Those clear blue irises brought a smile to your own lips, and you chuckled along with him at your initial fright.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you walk in,” you explained.

“It’s quite alright,” he assured you, offering his hand. “I know you already are aware, but I’m Loki.”

You grinned and introduced yourself, going to shake his hand, but he smoothly cradled your fingers and drew them up to his lips, pressing a light kiss to your knuckles.

“It’s good to finally meet you in person,” he cooed, seemingly all too aware of how flustered you now were.

You opened your mouth to say something in return, but you couldn’t think of anything to say as silence lay heavily between the two of you. You were saved, though, when the barista called out to you, asking if she could take your order. You spun around on your heel and shot her a grateful glance before ordering your favorite menu item and reaching into your purse for your wallet.

“…And I’ll have a cup of Earl Grey,” Loki stepped in, handing her a card from his open wallet.

“Oh, I could have paid for mine,” you protested, but he waved you off.

“No, no, love. It’s my treat.”

He gave you a tight, close-lipped smile, and you didn’t protest further as he paid for your orders. He led you to a booth in the corner, sliding into the side opposite to yours gracefully. The leather squeaked against your thighs as you shuffled in, and when you were finally settled across from him you caught a flicker in his eye that sent chills up your spine.

It was gone in an instant, though, replaced by the same suave look he’d had while ordering his tea.

“So,” he began, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “As I said before, I’m a fan of your work. Truly, I have been since your very first novel.”

“’Beauty in the Blood’?” you asked incredulously. “I’m surprised; no one seems to like that one. After reading it, my mom suggested that I start going to therapy.”

Loki chuckled, licking his lips, and your eyes followed his tongue of their own accord.

“Ah, well, whether or not that’s true, it’s still my favorite of your works by far,” he continued. “The parts told by the killer’s perspective were…beautiful. You captured his mind so artfully, it was as if…”

He paused, searching your face for a moment.

“It was as if…you understood him,” he finished.

You furrowed your eyebrows, thinking over his words. He’d skipped right over the small talk you’d come to suspect on first dates, but despite how strange of a direction the conversation was taking, you were…intrigued by it.

“Well,” you started, “I feel like I did understand him. I mean, sure, he took delight in the killing of others; he saw it as an art form. But as twisted and evil as he was, he was still a person – a person that had come from my mind. Cuz the thing is…”

You paused, gathering your thoughts and trying to find the right words to convey them.

“The thing is,” you spoke carefully, “that every storyteller uses bits and pieces of themselves to tell a story. A story is like a stained glass window – it’s made up of different pieces of an author’s mind and soul, and it comes together to create something greater than the sum of those pieces. So, yes, I think I can understand him; his darkness might be a reflection of my own – deep, deep down.”

You glanced up at him, blinking when you saw the transfixed look upon his face. His eyes were wider than they had been before, and his lips were parted as he listened.

“Sorry,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “I, uh… I got a little carried away. You probably think I’m some kind of freak-“

“I think you’re beautiful.”

His words took your breath away, and when the barista set down your cups on the table, you jumped in surprise.

“Is there anything else I can get you guys?” she asked cheerfully, and a flash of annoyance crossed over Loki’s face at the interruption.

“We’re fine,” you assured her quickly, giving her a polite smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re so welcome!”

You gripped your mug tightly as she walked away, savoring its heat as it warmed up your cold hands.

“So,” you said, desperate to break the sudden silence that had fallen over the table, “you mentioned that you’re a coroner. What drew you to your profession?”

Loki sipped his tea, humming as he thought over the question.

“Well… The conversation has already veered towards the darker side of things,” he mused. “I might as well tell you the story.

“When I was twelve years old, my sister killed herself,” he began.

“Oh, Loki, I’m so sorry-“

“Oh, no, don’t be,” he interrupted. “We weren’t close at all. I was adopted at a young age, you see, and Hella never accepted me. She was cruel, and she took every opportunity she could to remind me of my inadequacies.

“But, as I said, one day she died. At first, we didn’t know how it happened; there were no marks on her body whatsoever. She just looked like she was sleeping as she lay there in bed. We called the hospital, and the police, and eventually the coroners discovered that she’d injected bleach into her arm. Later on, my mother found the syringe under her bed, and all the pieces of the puzzle fit together. We finally knew the how and the when, and I never really cared much about the why.

“…That probably makes me sound like a monster, doesn’t it?”

You sat back, swallowing a scalding-hot sip of your drink before answering.

“No,” you answered, shaking your head. “I don’t think that makes you a monster. She abused you; it’s only natural that you found some relief in her death. I would’ve probably felt the same way.”

He studied you for a moment, tracing the lip of his cup with his index finger.

“I wonder if you would have…” he murmured to himself, so quietly that you almost didn’t hear it.

“Well,” he sighed, plastering a smile on once more and straightening up, “you probably aren’t going to be very keen on a second date if I keep dragging our conversation into subjects like this. Tell me, where are you from? What made you move to the city?”

“How do you know I’m not from here?”

“Love, neither of us have the New York accent, now do we?”

You laughed, and after that the two of you fell into an easy flow; it seemed that the heavy beginning of the date made it all the easier to talk to him. You discussed what you liked about the city and what you didn’t like; you learned that Loki was originally from a small town right outside of London, and that he has an adopted brother named Thor that he was close to.

“He’s an oaf,” he’d said when you’d asked what his brother was like. “Everything about him is literally the opposite of its coinciding part of me. But…he loves me; he never thought of me as the adopted child. I was always just his brother; despite his shortcomings, I think he does mean well. Besides, his IQ level is in the single digits, so I’m afraid I must look out for him for fear of what would happen if he were left to his own devices.”

From there, you shared stories about growing up, about life and ex partners and mistakes and successes. Before you knew it, the happy barista from before was approaching your table again, this time with a nervous smile.

“Hey, guys,” she greeted. “I’m so so sorry to bother you, but we’re closing up…”

Loki glanced down at his watch as you glanced at your phone – 10:30.

“Shit,” you laughed. “I had no idea. Time flies…”

Your date shot a glare at the barista before his eyes flickered to you. He gave you a wide, close-lipped smile and straightened his collar, raising his eyebrows.

“Then I suppose it’s time for us to head out,” he murmured. “May I escort you home?”

“Oh! Of course. If it’s not too far out of your way…”

“Even if it is,” he smiled, “I still want to walk you home.”

Your heart fluttered, and you set a five dollar bill on the table as a tip before standing up. The barista scurried away, and you almost turned to apologize to her for Loki’s cold shoulder. But you didn’t know him well yet; maybe that’s just how he was. Maybe he didn’t mean anything by it.

“You guys have a good night!” she called out after you, and you smiled over your shoulder at her before reaching for the door. Loki’s hand darted out and grabbed the handle before you could, opening it for you with a slight bow.

“After you, my lady.”

“How chivalrous.”

The two of you walked side by side down the street, hands brushing as you strolled down the sidewalk. You glanced upwards, smiling at the scattering of stars overhead as your breath fogged in the chilly air. You shivered, rubbing your arms a little bit to ward off the chill. Loki evidently caught the movement, and you felt his arm drape around your shoulders. You leaned into the warmth of his body, tilting your head up to share a grin with him.

“Again – chivalrous.”

He chuckled, squeezing you for a beat.

“I try my best… It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?”

“Gorgeous. Not as gorgeous as you, but…very pretty.”

You laughed and hid your face in his neck.

“Stop… You’re too charming.”

“Oh, really? I was under the impression there was no such thing.”

The two of you fell back into a companionable silence as you guided him towards your brownstone, until he spoke up once again.

“I must say… There’s a question that I’ve been meaning to ask you that I’m just…dying to know the answer to.”

“Go ahead, Loki. I’m an open book.”

He laughed softly again, hesitating before voicing his question.

“If you were to kill someone, how would you do it?”

You paused, thinking over your response.

“Well… Why am I killing them? Is it a crime of passion or a crime of necessity? Am I killing them just for the enjoyment of it, or out of revenge, or because the person needs to die for a bigger cause?”

“That… That is actually an excellent follow-up question,” Loki mused. “Let’s say… A crime of necessity. The person needs to die for a personal reason with no anger or revenge in mind. How do you do it?”

You bit your lip, calling to mind all of your morbid Google searches that might apply.

“Um… Air shot between the toes,” you finally said. “Fill a syringe with air and inject it between their toes while they sleep. It’ll look like a heart attack that way.”

Unbeknownst to you, warmth suddenly bloomed in Loki’s chest, and you glanced up just in time to catch the fond, almost…loving gleam in his eye. He quickly looked away, tilting his head up to look at the stars, but you’d caught it. And it wasn’t that it unsettled you; you weren’t uncomfortable because of the look. You were uncomfortable because you hadn’t been upset by it. You’d felt that same flutter once again as butterflies batted around your rib cage.

Nothing more was said as you turned the corner that led to your street, and you silently ascended your home’s steps with Loki’s arm still around your shoulders. You reluctantly slid your key into the lock, only turning to him once your door was opened a crack.

“I had… A really good time with you, Loki,” you told him, craning your neck to look into his eyes. “I know that this isn’t what you’re supposed to say to a guy after a first date; I know that it might scare you away. But I want you to know that I haven’t felt this way in a long… Actually, I’ve never felt this way. And it’s really scary, but I hope… I hope we can do this again sometime soon.”

Loki’s eyes softened, and he moved his arm from around your shoulders to your cheek.

“I haven’t felt his way, either,” he murmured. “But I know that I don’t want the feeling to go away.”

He was leaning forward, his eyes closing, and your heart leapt into your throat as you met him halfway. His lips were cold, and smooth, and soft as they pressed against yours, and you leaned into his touch when he pulled you closer by your hips. A sound escaped your throat as his tongue darted out, licking past the barrier of your mouth to glide itself against yours. His hands came up to cradle your cheeks, his thumbs rubbing against your cheekbones as your lips moved against one another, and you hummed once again as your chests pressed together.

You don’t know who pulled away first, but you spent a moment just taking in one another’s essence, your foreheads pressed together as the fog of your breaths mingled. You heard Loki let out a chuckle, and you looked up curiously.

“What is it?”

“I’ve just…” He licked his lips and let out another soft laugh before pulling away.

“I’ve just never felt like this before,” he repeated.

You smiled and pressed a peck to his lips before walking towards your door again.

“Have a good night, love,” he called after you, and you paused in the doorway to blow him a kiss.

“You too, Loki.”

You shut your door, missing the way his gaze darkened as he stared at the façade of your building.

“Oh, I will, darling. I will.”

__________

Loki hummed to himself, the leather of his gloves squeaking as he clenched and unclenched his fists. The silver of the table gleamed under the fluorescent lights of his basement, and the air was musty, thick with the smell of iron…and decay. Instruments and tools were lined along the wall in front of him - knives, machetes, a hatchet… It was cliché; he knew that. But he just hadn’t been able to resist the temptation while designing this special room.

A muffled scream sounded from behind him, and he rolled his eyes before turning back to the perky little barista who was currently strapped down to another metal table he’d “borrowed” from the hospital morgue.

“Are you honestly still trying to scream for help?” he snarked, raising an eyebrow at her. “I’ve told you; you’re currently under about five feet of solid concrete. Who will hear you? Who will help you?”

The girl let out a sob, and he watched her big blue eyes flicker to the wall just over his shoulder before coming to rest on him again. They were red and swollen, and he let out a coo of false sympathy.

“Oh, don’t worry, little girl. None of these are for you.” He grinned, turning back to the table behind him. “You can thank my new lover for that. No, she inspired me to take a different direction this evening.”

A small, genuine smile came over his face as he picked up the large syringe, turning it over in his hands.

“She’s been inspiring me for a while, actually,” he mused, ignoring the screams as he sauntered over to his victim, syringe in hand. “She’s such a brilliant writer, my darling is. It truly was fate that brought us together; if I’d had known that my favorite author was a beautiful young woman who also lived in Manhattan, well… I’m sure I would have found her sooner. But I won’t dwell on lost time; I’ll just have to make up for it.”

He ran a hand over the girl’s knee, trailing it down her shin even as she struggled against the strong ropes twined around her wrists and ankles. As his hand gripped the arch of her foot in an iron-like hold, he let his eyes close. This was always his favorite part – the moments right before death. The anticipation was like foreplay; it got him just as hot and eager, and the payoff was very nearly comparable. If he were ever asked to describe the feeling of ending another person’s life, of ripping out the remaining chapters from their story before it could be written, the only thing he’d be able to compare it to was an orgasm. That white-hot pleasure that flooded his veins was addictive, as was the lead up he was experiencing right now.

“You know,” he mused, slowly drawing back the plunger of the syringe, “my girl is so smart… Not a lot of people would think to off someone like this. But it’s not as easy as you would think; you can’t just use any old syringe. It has to be big, has to be a lot of air. And you have to be careful; if you hit muscle, it won’t be fatal, and the whole endeavor would be for naught. But if you hit a vein, and if you get a big enough pocket of air…”

The duct tape on her mouth did little to quell her scream as he inserted the needle into her flesh. A novice might not be able to find a vein, especially not in a foot, but the years of medical school paid off, just as they did every day at his job. He injected the empty cartridge into her vein, groaning and letting his eyes drift shut. He was slow about removing the needle; the separation of steel from skin was slow, intimate… Gentle.

“Hush…” he whispered, drawing out the word with a hiss. “It’s done now, love. It’s done.”

He let his arm fall to the side, and he took a step back, watching the girl start to settle down as he put some distance between them. He gently set the syringe down onto the table before crossing the room to the armchair in the corner. Letting out a soft grunt, he lowered himself into the seat, crossing his legs and letting his head fall back.

“Fuck, what a day,” he sighed. “This isn’t what I was expecting when I woke up this morning.”

Loki lifted his head and gave the young girl a wry smile.

“As you may have guessed, this isn’t my first time doing something like this,” he began. “But I do try to limit myself. I may take…five victims a year. Maybe six or seven if I’m particularly stressed. My last one was on New Year’s, though. I’m not due for a killing for another few months, but… That girl really had me going.

“I was hoping that she’d invite me in tonight,” he confessed. “Though I wasn’t expecting it. It was our first date, after all. But a man can hope, can’t he? If she had invited me to stay the night, you wouldn’t be here right now. Alas, though… I had all of these pent up feelings that I had to do something with. And you were so…obnoxious back at the café. I couldn’t tell if you were being genuine with your disgusting, overbearing cheerfulness or if it was as fake as your blonde hair. But, god, did it get under my skin…”

The girl let out a sob, and he noticed that she was beginning to shake. He chuckled, feeling himself grow hard in his trousers as he thought of you. You’d come up with this idea, this beautiful, drawn-out murder. Such a sweet, innocent looking girl on the outside. But such delicious, pure wickedness within.

“Fuck,” he huffed, palming himself through his pants. “Despite the nuisance you made of yourself, today was so perfect… She’s the One, you know. The one and only girl who can ever complete me. I didn’t even believe in this sort of thing this morning, but for the first time in my life, I’m glad I was wrong.”

He forced himself to still his hand, moving it to his knee as his jaw clenched. In the past, he’d done this in front of a few of his victims; male or female, if they were pretty, young things, the act of killing them made him so hard that he had to touch himself as he watched them squirm on his table. But not tonight, not after you. That part of himself was only for you, now, and he was strong enough to resist the urge until his was the only heart beating under his roof.

And so he sat back and watched. At first, the girl only shivered, and after thirty minutes he was afraid that he hadn’t injected enough air into her. But then he noticed the way she was breathing; it was like she was a fish out of water, and the slope of her furrowed eyebrows betrayed the pain she was in.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, voice thick. At first she didn’t answer, but then, almost imperceptibly, she nodded. He hummed in understanding, hiding his grin behind his hand as he scratched his chin.

“How marvelous.”

He knew she wouldn’t last long when her skin started to turn blue. After an hour, the seizures began, jolting and shaking her body as if she were a ragdoll. He watched in fascination, his cold, blue eyes never leaving her tied-up form. Soft, strained whimpers were leaving her throat, and he let out a purr as her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

His joints popped as he stood up, and the heels of his shoes clicked against the concrete floor as he rounded the table, making his way to her pretty blonde head. He slowly, deliberately pulled the duct tape away from her mouth, and he chuckled at how blue her lips had become.

“This is a much better look on you,” he observed. “This is so much more real than those saccharine smiles.”

She finally went still 84 minutes after the injection. Even after her heart stopped beating, he stood over her, watching the unnatural stillness of her chest. Despite all of the corpses he’d created over the years, and despite the years he’d spent in his profession, it was still something that he’d never gotten used to. People weren’t supposed to be that still; people were supposed to blink, and smile, and talk, and breathe, but the things they became after death did none of those things. They didn’t move, and they didn’t feel, and there was always a moment of disgust when he first laid eyes on a fresh corpse.

But it passed quickly, even quicker than normal tonight. The disgust faded away and left behind pure, unadulterated lust as his thoughts strayed once more to you. Typically, he would stay behind, lingering in the basement to dispose of the body. Sometimes, if he wasn’t too tired, he would actually drive out and deposit them in whatever spot he’d predetermined to be the one the police were to find them in.

But tonight, he left the corpse there on the table. He flicked the lights off and climbed the first, then the second set of stairs, peeling off his gloves and petting his cat on the way to his bedroom. He showered, then combed his hair, then settled down between his silk sheets completely naked. Then, and only then, did his hand travel down to his cock, and his mind once again, indubitably, trekked back to you. Your face, your voice, your beautiful fucking mind…

The thought that finally made him cum was the picture of him fucking you in a pool of blood on his basement floor, of the bright crimson painting your skin as he let his hands worship your body. The thought followed him into his dreams, ruby red and throbbing to the beat of his heart as he slept deeply into the night.

_____________

Detective Romanoff stood side by side with her partner in front of the dead body, hands planted firmly on her hips as she chewed her lip.

“How old did you say she was?” she asked the coroner, her eyes flicking down to the rope burn on the woman’s – the girl’s – wrists and ankles.

“Twenty,” was Dr. Odinson’s accented reply. He turned around, glancing between the two detectives before taking a deep breath and turning his attention back to the body. “I’m afraid that there won’t be much investigating for the two of you to do here. The cause of death was a heart attack, pure and simple.”

“A twenty year old girl having a heart attack?” Detective Rogers scoffed. “I think you got your wires crossed, there, Loki.”

Natasha watched as a muscle in the coroner’s jaw twitched, and he let out a frustrated huff as he peeled off his medical gloves.

“Detective, this sort of thing happens all the time – freak accidents that can strike even the healthiest of people. They are…unfortunate, but they’re also a fact of life.” He tossed the balled up gloves into a trash can and whisked past them, bending over to type something into the laptop resting on his desk as he continued speaking to them.

“After reviewing her medical records, I found out that her father died two years ago from a heart attack; if I were a gambling man, I would say that a bad set of genes were the only culprit here.”

“What about the marks on her wrists?” Natasha asked. “They gotta mean something, right?”

“Oh, I’m sure they do,” Loki smirked, cutting his eyes over at her before straightening up. “It probably means that little Miss…” He paused, glancing down at a paper resting beside his computer. “Miss Allison Berry was into bondage before her untimely demise.”

“A woman is lying dead, Odinson,” Rogers spat. “Show some respect.”

Loki raised his hands up in surrender as he sauntered towards them.

“I apologize if I offended you, Detective,” he replied coolly. “I meant no disrespect. But I’ve run all the tests in the book. There were no signs of sexual assault, no signs of foul play. I’ll type up a proper report for the two of you, but I’m telling you now – the girl died of a heart attack.”

Natasha and Steve shared a look before turning back to the doctor.

“Have the report ready for us before the end of the day,” she ordered, patting Steve on the shoulder and gesturing for him to follow her as she made her way out of the cold morgue.

“Whatever you say, Officer.”

Natasha froze mid-step, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck bristle as a thousand images flashed through her mind after hearing him say that word. She gulped, oblivious to the confused look Steve was giving her, and she kept walking without turning back around.

“It’s Detective, now, doctor.”

The door clicked shut behind them, cutting off Loki’s dark chuckle as he was once again was left alone with Allison Berry’s body. His smile didn’t fade as he pulled on another pair of gloves; if anything, it grew as he finished the young woman’s autopsy.

“I was being honest with them; you know that, don’t you?” He winked at the girl’s unseeing eyes, his hands moving of their own accord as he stitched up the clean line he’d cut through the skin, bone, and muscle of her chest.

“It was just a heart attack.”

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki x reader #loki imagine #serial killer au #serial killer!loki #dark!fic #dark!loki

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.22

What Happens After 2 AM... Doesn’t Hate To Be a Disaster

Type: series, soulmate AU series (part 1, part 2) x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 4420

Summary: Celebrations are in order! And when it comes to the Avengers, it’s always ‘the more the merrier’.

Warnings: swearing, brief angst, nightmares, guilt trips, attempt at humour, fluff

Story masterlist ༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Tony took off, too eager to try and get in touch with his friend via intergalactical channel. You almost felt sorry for not witnessing it, but as the biggest excitement tuned down, everyone once more invested in their own business, you and Steve were the only ones left in the kitchen – and were approached by Natasha.

If you didn’t know better, you’d say the spy even looked shy in her supposedly casual stance.

“Hey, uhm… you guys mind if I ask someone to tag along?” she threw to the open as if it wasn’t a big deal. Her plan didn’t work, because you nearly fell off of the stool with how quickly you spun to her fully.

One corner of her lips twitched at your clumsiness, but then she casted her gaze down, only making your eyebrow rise.

“Oh?”

“It’s just… a friend.”

Riiight. She was so full of shit. A teasing smile slowly spread on your face and you exchanged a meaningful wordless conversation with Steve who had insisted on him cleaning up.

“A friend, you say?” you pried, unable to hide the suggestive tone – and not even trying. She shrugged it off, clearly downplaying it once again.

“For now. A little flirting here and there maybe…”

She fooled no one, but you were in too much of a light mood to torture her and actually call her out on the fact that unless she was thinking about getting serious, she wouldn’t have wanted to introduce the mystery person to the team.

“Good for you, Natasha,” you noted instead and you might have imagined it only, but her ‘casual stance’ eased for real. “As for me, I’m all for it. I might be glad to take some attention off me.”

“And vice versa,” she pointed out and it dawned to you just how sneaky her planning was. It shouldn’t surprise you – she was a spy after all and one brilliant woman to begin with.

“Smart. I’d love to meet them.”

“I’m sure he will be too. Thanks. Uhm… Steve?” she hummed in his direction, just to make sure he was alright with it too.

The man in question raised his hands as if he wanted to say it was not his decision to make – and sent a spray of tiny drops of water your general direction with that movement. You snorted at that unattractively.

“I think it’s safe to say it’s her party, so it’s her call,” he stated with a grin and dried his hands.

“Then I say yes, of course he can come, Nat-- I meant-“ not Nat. You wanted to bit your cheek at the silly slip, probably caused by hearing the name so often, but the redhead smirked.

“Nat’s fine. I’m still honoured, by the way. Naming yourself after me...”

“Would have done it again in a heartbeat,” you reassured her with a matching smirk, relieved. She winked at you and at Steve, spinning on her heels and walking away. It was the spur of the moment what you blurted out before she could leave. “And Nat? He’s a really lucky guy. I hope he knows that.”

“Thanks,” she threw over her shoulder almost carelessly, but once again, you knew better. Natasha Romanoff felt like any other human being, only she didn’t show it as often as you for instance.

You glanced at Steve as he circled the bar and you exchanged a brief smile with him. You simply couldn’t stop smiling today. You couldn’t say you minded.

Steve’s fingers found your face and hair, caressing softly and his lips brushed yours. It seemed he couldn’t stop touching you today. Once again, you couldn’t say you minded.

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You were purposely postponing the inevitable question of what was coming next; and Steve didn’t push you. It was as if the two of you had made a deal about working out worries and obstacles later, except you hadn’t.

Chances were that Steve was avoiding the topic, because there was so much to go over and you couldn’t quite blame him. Should you go public with your resurrection? Or was it safer and overall better to keep you hidden? Perhaps you should tell at least your family and friends? What about you having a job – you couldn’t exactly sit around all days long doing nothing. The paperwork if you officially came back. The scandal. Were you even allowed to tell anyone about such thing as coming back from the dead?

Oh yeah, you were very much happy that Steve was ignoring the obvious problems in making as expertly as you were.

So, you idled. You cuddled, you watched movies, stole kisses, you spied on him while he trained with his teammates (after you spent about twenty minutes on a treadmill and decided you had to either focus on running or on ogling Steve, choosing the latter, obviously) and momentarily was searching for recipe for the best cookies, because why the hell not bake when having the time on your hands.

Relaxing for the whole day, you did not expect the sudden burst of thunderclap and lightning that followed. You jumped in your seat nearly falling off of the bar stool for the second time that day and shot Steve, who was sitting on a couch with an actual cookbook, a puzzled look.

He sighed when Tony passed the room, a grin plastered on his face.

Right. Calling Thor. God of thunder. Apparently, it worked.

“Brother Anthony. Where is the fight?” the thunderous voice demanded from the hall, your chest vibrating with the decibels of it.

“There’s no fight,” Tony responded light-heartedly. “Party is in order.”

“A party?”

“Yep,” Tony hummed, clearly amused by the shock he had caused his friend.

“You’re… you’re doing well then?” the god lowered his voice a fraction, but still was loud enough for you to hear him clearly despite the pair not being in the room with you. “How is the Captain? I requested of Heimdall to watch over him, but Loki orchestrated an escape from his prison, so I was too preoccupied to visit sooner.”

Oh. Oh. Even Thor knew just how harsh life had been to Steve lately. Also, you forgot how strangely he spoke – orchestrated, who did ever say the word orchestrated in a casual converstion?

You spared a glance at the Steve, not surprised he didn’t meet your gaze, truly engrossed in the book all of sudden. His skin paled a little, besides his ears that turned an uncomfortable shade of red as if they were on fire.

You bit your lip and decided to say nothing. What was there to say, really? He had been mourning; you wouldn’t exactly expect to find out he had been playing the welcome committee during Thor’s last visit, whenever that had been.

“See for yourself, Point Break.”

You rolled your eyes at Tony’s dramatics, and watched the God of Thunder himself, the walking rock he was, basically tiptoe into the room, eyes instantly focused on Steve. You remained graciously unnoticed. It was almost as endearing as hilarious.

Steve lowered his book (laying it down without bothering to mark the page he had been ‘reading’, while avoiding your gaze really) and stood up, offering a short hug to the God, who was adorably perplexed at such behaviour.

“Hello, Thor. It’s good to see you,” Steve welcomed him warmly, lightly patting his friend on his back. Tony watched amusedly as the men retreated, one of them utterly confused, shooting him a not-so-subtle puzzled look.

“Brother Steven, you-- look well! I am pleased to see that you are feeling better…”

“Use that famous beyond-eyes eyes of yours, Thor,” Tony snorted in laughter, gesturing vaguely around his own face. “I imagine you’ll be surprised at what you’ll see.”

To your surprise, Thor actually examined Steve with an absent gaze, blinking after few seconds, understanding mixing with confusion on his face now.

“Oh… you are… bonded,” he let out in disbelief, quickly switching to warmer voice. And nope, he still hadn’t noticed you. The corner of your lips twitched. “I am happy for you, brother. I could sense your sorrow for your soulmate during my last visit here without taking as much as a glance at you. You deserve another soulmate, one that can make your heart equally happy. I hope you do not feel unfaithful for you love again – I believe you still carry your love for your past partner in your heart and her soul knows that even in afterlife.”

Steve smiled at him, sad tones in the otherwise wide smile. “More than you know, Thor. But thank you. Would you like to meet her? She’s why we are celebrating and why we invited you to join us.”

“Of course. I’d be honoured to meet your lady-“

“You can,” you made your presence known at last, causing the God to snap his head to you at instant. You offered a grin and a tiny wave. “Hey, Thor. Long time, no see.”

The poor Asgardian stared at you incredulously, his eyes wider than Steve’s and Tony’s smiles. Then he shook his head, joining all of you in the lifted spirits.

“…now I understand why Heimdall had that secretive smile on his face when I was leaving… my lady! I am delighted to see you alive!”

He crossed the room in swift strides, nearly making you back out with how fierce he looked at the moment. But he wouldn’t punch you, right?

Nope, he wouldn’t.

Instead, he pulled you into his strong arms, lifting you a foot above the ground, squeezing you in a bone-crushing hug that brushed your tender ribs. You were so surprised you didn’t even hiss in pain. He released you as quickly as he embraced you, greeting you with his typical kiss on the back of your hand. Was there a hint of red in his cheeks as if he was embarrassed at the open display of friendly affection that preceded his gentleman’s manners?

You shook off the thought quickly, dropping a little curtsy to entertain your company. You met Steve’s eyes behind Thor’s enormous shoulder and he squinted at you playfully as if he was warning you to stop what could be considered flirtation. You winked at him, earning a gape from him and a chuckle from Tony.

“But… how?” Thor’s voice brought your attention back to him and you saw nothing but wonder on his face. “I can see your spirit, it is still glowing magnificently, clear of dark forces that could have tried to bring you back to life despite the natural order. This must have happened differently… how?”

“It’s a long story, Thor. Can you stay?” you asked hopefully, pleased by the warmth in his eyes when he nodded.

“To celebrate your return, the reunion of soulmates with one of the strongest bonds I have ever had the chance to witness? ...with pleasure, my lady.”

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Asking Thor to join was a good plan. The Avengers had introduced some of the board games they knew to him, highly amused by his frustration during monopoly; to be fair, everyone but Tony was frustrated, so no one was mad when the game ended; with the billionaire’s victory, naturally. But it wasn’t just that; he also got Steve tipsy thanks to some special liquor that was meant for ‘no mere mortals’ and Steve with his cheeks red and a smile more relaxed than you had ever witnessed was a sight to behold.

Also, Thor wasn’t the only special guest. Sam had joined you; Natasha’s special friend. It was very much clear he was special and not only because of their body language. He proved to be worthy of being her man by surviving the grilling he was put through; you didn’t blame Natasha that she had chosen this occasion of all to introduce him, because naturally, there were enough distractions… like you coming back from dead… and such.

You came to like Sam immediately. He was another person to join your verbal combat with Clint and Tony, he was funny, but somehow knowing the limits of everyone despite barely meeting them and he was another person who was giving away the friendly vibe that was impossible not to love. He was an amazing match to Natasha, who was used to hiding her feelings, making her crawl from her tough shell. Match made in Heaven. He was a therapist, a former soldier and apparently their encounter was a story they wouldn’t share until they were completely trashed. You couldn’t wait.

The family-feels-filled party was officially ending at two a.m. You were dead on your feet by then, which resulted in Steve nearly carrying you to your common suite, earning a streak of ‘awww’ that registered even in your sleepy brain. You had no care in the world, curling in Steve’s embrace on the bed and falling asleep as soon as you felt his arms relax around you.

You didn’t quite count on the retelling your story about what preceded the re-encounter with your soulmate to cause your dreams going off rails; again. Snapping your eyes into the dark, your heart was hammering in your ribcage, the remnants of a nightmare slowly leaving your mind. Sparing once glance at Steve’s fast asleep face, you carefully wiggled away and went to brush your teeth. Instantly recognizing you wouldn’t fall asleep any time soon, you decided to wander the Tower in your pyjama, a thin sweater over your shoulders.

Maybe a tea would make you good, calm your restless brain?

Heading for the kitchen and common area, you didn’t expect to find the light on; and you sure as hell didn’t expect Samuel Wilson being the person occupying it.

“Hey,” he greeted you in low voice and a tired smile on his own. “Can’t sleep?”

You couldn’t help the sigh that was drawn to your lips. “Nope. I didn’t want to wake up Steve, he could use a few hours extra, not less.”

“I bet,” the man hummed thoughtfully, motioning for you to sit in a kind offer. You shook your head and gestured towards the kettle.

“Tea?”

“Nah. Thanks.”

You went to make a cup for yourself only then, keeping the talk up. “What about you?”

“Nat’s in the shower. Woke me up.”

“Then what are you doing here?” you teased him with a chuckle and his face scrunched as if he tasted lemon and was not expecting the taste.

“Nightmares are kind of a moodkiller.”

“Ah,” escaped your lips intelligently as you sat beside him, placing the tea on the table. Honestly, you weren’t surprised at how brusque he was after the evening you spent together, but at the same time, you were – a little. You offered him a half smile. “She looks happy though. You do that.”

He smiled a tiny smile back, but his crinkling eyes said more than the curl of his lips. “I hope so, ‘cause I’m trying. Nat’s amazing. She could have anyone, but deserves the best. For some reason, the Universe seems to think it’s me.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling,“ you hummed, recalling the feeling way too clearly. Sam’s eyes bulged then, guilt and shock and only then you realized what he said. Oh. Oh. The Universe. Natasha was Sam’s soulmate. Now you understood why they ended up not sharing their meet-cute yet. “Your secret is safe with me, just in case you wonder. And I can see the two of you being soulmates. I mean… at least you used to be a soldier, like her. And you still help people.”

You could feel his relief rolling off in waves. It was quite funny how afraid he was, probably having been promised death delivered by Black Widow if he shared. Then, his eyes turned curious, gentle brown wondering.

“You’re still self-conscious about your soulmate?”

“No!” you blurted out automatically, hesitating when his eyebrow rose, calling you out on your bullshit without words. You huffed. “Yes? I mean… no. It’s just-- sometimes… I guess it was just being confronted with it again when I met him for the second time… like, second time, the first time. It kinda hit me again. That our worlds are so different, mine’s so… plain and normal., while his… well.”

Getting it out felt good, but your admission sent the room into heavy silence, soaking through your skin, making you question whether you had told him too much. Why did you even say that? To Sam, of all people? You had just met him tonight!

You must have scared him off. Freaked him out. Now he was about to leave and tell on you and he would never talk to you-

“Did Natasha tell you what kind of therapy I do?” he asked kindly instead, causing you to release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

You shook your head, intrigued, happy to learn more about him and ignore the silly overshare slip you had managed.

“Soulmates,” he said simply, your heart stopping at the single word. What? … like… what exactly was he doing? Huh? “I deal with people who lost their soulmates. And I spent a good portion of time digging into relationships, soulmates-related or not… and I can tell you that sometimes when people are exactly the same, they are a disaster in making.”

Well. That was loop that returned to your case faster than expected. “What… uhm, what do you mean?”

“I mean that I’m not in the battlefield anymore, but maybe… I could be good for Nat. Grounding. Just like you can be good for Steve, be exactly what he needs,” he explained, his eyes locked with yours, not releasing you; yet, you didn’t feel trapped. Damn, he was good. “Do you feel that you two… work?”

You blinked at the sudden stupid question. “Of course I do.”

He grinned victoriously and you realized you just proved his point, so you chuckled self-depreciatingly.

“That’s because it’s not always about being the same in every aspect of your lives. It’s not about similarity – it’s about completion. About two people who simply fit. From what I saw so far, from what you told me, you two fit. That’s what’s important.”

Yeah, it seemed the Universe’s choices in soulmates were pretty swell; Sam was one of the kindest and most amiable people you had ever met and Natasha deserved nothing less.

But now, it wasn’t about Nat and Sam; no, Sam had spoken to you about this for your benefit. You smiled at him softly, reaching out and squeezing his hand for a short second. He returned the courtesy, letting your mouth speak your mind.

“Thank you. I… I think you two do as well. I guess it was just heavy dreams and everything that happened…” you shrugged, already feeling calmer. You couldn’t recall what particular dream was making you lose sleep tonight, but it left you with a strange feeling in your stomach that now seemed to resolve into nothing.

Sam shrugged, huffing with an undertone of bitterness that quickly disappeared.

“Well, we sit here at four a.m. Both of us. Every single person in this building has shit to deal with. You’ve been blown up – you came back from death, much like Steve did, in a way. He’s seen you die on top of that. Nat’s past is a case of its own and… and I saw my soulmate fall from the sky and for some reason I’m blessed with another… I’m just a firm believer in handling that kind of things together, that’s why I lead group sessions rather than individual ones.”

Your lips parted at his admission. He had lost his soulmate? For real? And he found the strength to deal and to help others? Yeah, Nat definitely deserved this guy. You just hoped neither of them would have to go through losing one another – in battlefield or anywhere else.

“Nat… is your second?” you pried carefully, only making certain.

Judging by how absent his gaze grow for few moments, she was.

“Yeah.”

As if talking about her summoned her, she appeared in the door behind Sam’s back, observing silently and motioning for you not to babble out on her when you noticed her.

“Oh. Uhm… I’m sorry for your loss,” you whispered honestly and Sam smiled at you sadly, but undeniably grateful for such simple words.

“Thank you. I guess… the Universe does have a strange sense of humour. She came to me to help Steve, because she knew I lost my own and could relate and that’s how we found each other. It clicks in a weird way and I’m glad it seems to be working out so far.”

No way. Shit. Natasha had been… looking for a therapist for Steve? Just how bad Steve had been? The icy fist squeezing your heart gave you enough of an answer. Bad enough. You tried to silence the irrational guilt that gnawed at your stomach; it wasn’t exactly your fault, was it?

Curiosity was also knocking at your door, but you repressed it as well. As much as you’d like to ask whether Sam ended up having a session with Steve despite usually doing group ones, it felt wrong. Not to mention that Sam was a respectful and respecting man, who probably wouldn’t answer anyway.

“Yeah, it does,” you agreed with his musing instead, your own mind set off. “I thought it was rare to have two soulmarks and here we are.”

He snorted in an unattractive amusement. “Well, I have thought the same as you. And yet here we are. With you, coming back from the death as if two marks weren’t rare enough on their own.”

“That’s fair. But I suppose that… who else than people who spent smaller or larger part of their life saving the world deserves more than one chance at happiness?”

“True that,” he said with a light curl to his lips despite his eyes flickering behind you for a fraction of a second.

Letting your mind wander, you continued speaking, paying no mind you must bore him. “Or maybe it’s getting less rare. Maybe it’s part of something bigger, what we have yet to understand. Something… something might be changing. Cosmic…or maybe I’m just babbling. It’s just a feeling, something is in the air. A change.”

“That’s some heavy conversation to handle at four a.m,” a new voice spoke to the silence that had settled after your monologue and you whirled around, nearly jumping out of your skin.

“Steve!” you yelped, shocked and embarrassed. How much had he heard? Oh god…

Steve only shrugged and exchanged a look with Natasha, standing in the other doorway, which caused Sam to turn to his soulmate as well.

“Yeah, no shit,” Nat agreed, smirking.

“Hey, Nat,” Sam hummed, clearly less embarrassed at being eavesdropped on than you were.

“How about we cut this short and actually try to get some sleep?” she offered, carefree.

“Yeah, try,” you mimicked wryly with a sigh.

“We can try together,” Steve coaxed as he walked to you, running his hand through your hair tenderly. “Come with me, doll?”

How could a girl resist a sleepy supersoldier, when he combined his puppy eyes with being shirtless and inviting her back to his bed?

Couldn’t. The answer was: she couldn’t. You were a girl; hence you stood no chance.

“Sure,” you mumbled in a slight haze, before you managed to look back at your loyal listener. Sam had a smirk on his face, seeing what a goner you were for Steve, but his eyes were still kind. ”Thank you, Sam. Must be that face of yours, making me verbally vomit my emotions.”

“Did you just compliment my face?” he asked, fake-shocked and turned to his own soulmate, scandalized. “Nat, watch out! She might wanna steal me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were her,” Natasha grinned at him and he chuckled, comeback prepared.

“And why is that?”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile turned fond and you felt like you were missing something. Ah, private joke perhaps?

Not that you cared much as Steve squeezed your shoulder lightly, his thumb slipping under the sweater you hadn’t bothered buttoning up, caressing your bare arm.

“You’re so corny,” the spy snickered.

Sam stuck out tongue in response, at which Nat placed a palm over her chest in theatrics. You chuckled and rose to your feet.

“Well, this looks like the right time to leave. Night, guys!”

“Please, as if you are about to sleep! You fool no one!” Sam called after you and you would swear you heard a slap after that, making you giggle.

Steve wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you to his side and pressing a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering in your hair then.

“I thought we agreed that we fit perfectly,” he hummed, only a trace of accusation in his warm timbre.

You sighed and curled up to him as close as it was possible while walking.

“We do. I… it really was just a strange dream, I guess, and this… whole thing. I saw it from a new perspective, you know? Basically an outsider who had no clue how soulmates worked at first. I went through the shock of you being my soulmate twice.”

“Ah, so you thought I was too handsome-“

You slapped his chest playfully as it instantly started shaking with hushed laughter, showing you he was only joking. You snuggled into his warmth, hoping your face didn’t quite had on display that yeah, he wasn’t that wrong. It was exactly that and like twenty other things about him and that was before you even met him. You didn’t expect him to ever understand that, not really, but Sam was right; you worked as a couple, or you liked to think so. Nothing else mattered.

Reaching your room, he released you from his embrace only to keep his hand on your shoulder to spin you, making you face him. You reluctantly raised your gaze, meeting his soft smile.

“I love you. You’re my everything and we are meant to be. Well, at least I believe that,” he mused, a fraction of doubt flashing in his eyes until you shook your head and planted a kiss right to his lips, feeling the smile widen. “If you’re not convinced… well. I’m making it my newest personal mission to prove it to you.”

Your eyebrow rose in challenge at his suggestive tone. “Are you, now?”

You couldn’t imagine saying no to that, but truth to be told, you were getting tired again; after spilling the beans to Sam, sharing your worries and getting them out of your chest, you felt like you would be able to actually fall asleep again.

“Yeah, doll. And I think I’ll start right in the morning after we get some sleep.”

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Epilogue

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Thank you for reading! (Potentially for leaving likes and reblogging)

There’s an epilogue left (full chapter-length), but you know me – I’m considering a short bonus chapter that I’m not sure will fit into the timeline – just something for fun, I guess. We’ll see.

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