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grippingbeskar · 2 years ago

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salt, ice and fire | frank castle

chapter twelve - ray of sunshine

[series masterlist] [previous chapter]

frank castle x fem!reader

word count: 5.1k

warnings: canon typical violence, mentions of death, injuries, stitches, description of wounds/cuts, mention of scars, violence, gore, death, blood it gets kinda gross but ITS PUNISHER TIME AGAIN BITCHES. also kinda sad frank and reader but look we’re gonna be okay.

a/n: guysssss what do we think. tell me. i feel like i struggle to write good action scenes bc the ones in the punisher are so cinematic and bad ass but i’m trying. also don’t ask me if any of the sewerage system information is right i have no idea and i wasn’t about to google it bc gross i’m sorry lets pretend. hope u enjoy beauties.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hold it tighter”

“Like this?” Your hands grip at his direction, and you hear his hum of approval.

“Now go slow.”

“That’s no fun.” You smirk up at him, but Frank is too lost in concentration to fight back.

“Slow, or this’ll finish before it’s even started.” His hand wrapped around yours and adjusted your grip. “There you go. Just like that.”

“This feels wrong.” Eyebrows furrowed, you see him shake his head in your peripheral vision.

“You don’t think I would know if it was wrong?”

“Fine.”

“Alright. Now just...” He loses his words as you move through the motion he showed you again a few times, a low noise the only sound your doing something right.

“I think I got it.”

“Now hard and fast. Don’t think, just do it.”

Letting go of the hilt of the knife, it slams into the opposite wall. Finally, after three days, you get it. Bullseye.

“I hit it! Holy fuck!” You shout, running up to wall. You almost want to take a photo of it.

“Damn right you did.” Frank claps once, and nods, a smile crossing his face. He looks proud of you. You turn around to face the wall again, losing your nerve.

It had been four whole days since you had first arrived at this run down garage-turned-vigilante-base, and four whole days since Frank had kissed you. Or touched you, really, of any kind, bare the minimum of whatever training he dragged you through that day.

It was a good distraction, his never ending supply of drills and routines to run you through. Not all were physical, like the first day he gave you scenarios to break down. He kept telling you how half the shit he did was just as much a mental game as it was physical. If you could put your opponent off, even for a second, you could control everything they did. Subtle changes in pace, in tone, could be the difference between life and death.

That stuff you weren’t so good at, but with your enhanced strength and speed, the physical training was becoming a breeze. Knives had nearly become second nature, spending hours staring down that stupid wall with a target that seemed to mock you, finally figuring out the subtle moves and changes you had to make to slam the blade true. Sure, it was distracting because all you could think of was what happened last time Frank showed you how to throw, but eventually you managed to work it out, thanks to him.

Guns, you were almost comfortable with. Frank was clearly superior, but that was about the only thing you couldn’t match him in now. You could throw a punch, but he showed you how to make them count, how to place them, and especially when not to punch, when to hold, move, duck and cover. Waiting was not your thing, but every day made you better at it.

“Do it again.” Frank stands to the side, watching as you gather up the three remaining knives. “It’s muscle memory, don’t think about it.”

You turn around, not facing the wall right away, and when you spin back you throw all three in succession, as fast as you can.

All land with a successful thud - right where you wanted them to. One is dead centre, the other two slightly above and below, creating the perfect straight line.

“Atta girl.” Frank says from the wall, and everything gets about ten degrees hotter. “We go tonight.”

“Yeah?” He nods, walking over to the array of guns he’s had laid out for a few hours, cleaning while correcting your form.

“They won’t expect it. You feeling okay?” He looks down towards where you were shot, and you pull up your shirt to show him.

“Feels fine.”

“Need to take the stitches out.” He says and starts to walk towards the bathroom. You had thought about that for a while, and you should probably learn to take care of your own injuries, but any excuse to have Frank that close again is one you wouldn’t fuck up.

You go inside the small excuse for a bathroom, and he kneels down in front of you. His fingers dance lightly around the wound, assessing, before he gets the little scissors out and starts to cut the wires.

“Were you a medic?” He shakes his head, and his hand fans out on your stomach, holding you still.

“Basic training runs you through first aid. That and getting my ass shot made me a fast learner.” You try not to laugh, and he looks up at you, catching your smile. “Curtis was.”

“Bomb guy, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I figured you served together. He - he seemed nice.” Another cut of wire, this one made you wince a little, the wound still healing despite the time.

“Best guy I know.” You swallow, trying to get your nerve back.

“You can tell me to piss off, when I ask this.”

“Go on.” His fingers dig into you a little more as you unconsciously squirm away from the blades.

“I was reading another article. One on The Punisher, on the computer.”

“You’re googling me?”

“You told me to research.”

“I meant the maps, not me.”

“Anyways-“ Another wince, and his thumb runs soothing lines along your skin. “They said you - there was someone that you served with, that knew about what was going to happen to your family. It wasn’t him, was it?”

“No.” His movements all but stop as he considers going on. There’s something about him fixing you up that seems to force the two of you to talk about things like this, a kind of intimate trust that encourages you to share a little more of yourself, which is why you got the courage to ask.

You had spent a lot of time on the computer the past few days, and since he had kissed you like a man starved, you had to admit your interest was a little bit piqued. There was no public information about what really happened to his family, and you had no hope figuring out how to use any of the systems on the monitors to find it yourself.

“Good. That’s good. He’s nice.” You were pretty sure it wasn’t Curtis, but the only other two names you could find that served with Frank was a photo of him, covered in mud with two guys next to him, their names labelled underneath.

Gunner Henderson.

Frank Castle.

Billy Russo.

“Is it gonna scar bad, or do I still have a chance to wear low rise jeans at some point?” You give him an out as he stands up, removing the last of the stitches.

“I think you’ll be just fine.” You go to leave the bathroom and give him some space, afraid your question went to close to prying, but his hand falls on your hip, holding you there. “What other names do you know?”

“What?”

“You said you did your research. Don’t get shy now, who else you got?” He was doing that thing again - the thing where you were almost positive he could read minds he was that good.

“A guy named Gunner. And Billy Russo.”

“Billy Russo was my best friend. Family. Spent more time with him than my god damn wife and kids. He was my brother.” You swallow, and wonder what happened to him. Surely it must have been Gunner, then. No one would sell out their brother.

“You don’t have to tell me.” You say softly, and he nods, like he knows, but he wants to tell you anyways.

“He hung around my kids. Knew ‘em, my wife fuckin’ loved him, too. She always had this massive heart, let him crash at our place, fed him. He’d help me out round the house. It was natural, you know? Having him around. On the last tour, he told me he was getting out, that he requested a transfer. Shit got dark over there, we weren’t just soldiers anymore.”

“Was this Kandahar?” You say from memory and he nods. Then he looks down at where his hand was resting on your hip.

“They called us the American Taliban, over there. We’d go in, dead of night, and make people disappear. The guys who ran us - Schoonover, Rawlins; they were selling drugs to fund the operation. Stuffing them into KIA’s and sending them home. Gunner, the other guy, he found out, tried to blow the whistle on the whole thing. He took a video of an interrogation we did, tortured this guy who was meant to be an American ally. He was innocent, we all knew it, but Gunner was the only one with the balls to do something about it. He sent it to Madani.”

“Jesus.”

“After that, everything went to shit. They thought I was gonna sell ‘em out for - money, to do the right thing or whatever I should of done. They wanted a distraction, bodies to bury their shit under. Billy knew.” His voice cracks at the end, and he still not looking up. “He knew what they were going to do, and he did nothin’. Let ‘em die like fuckin’ animals.”

Your hands go to his cheeks and pull him up to you. You don’t know if you should kiss him or hold him, so you just freeze there, his eyes burning a whole straight through you.

“Frank.”

“They were the best. My kids - Lisa was so smart. She was reading Moby Dick when she was ten.” He swallows hard again, and you feel his jaw clench under your hand. “And Frankie he - shit, he was just like me.”

“A ray of sunshine?” He laughs, and the smile that touches each of your thumbs on his face is one you would kill to see again.

“Maria was.” You could hear your own heart breaking at the way his voice got way too soft. “She was the best with ‘em. All that shit was my fault, and I-“

“Hey. Don’t do that.”

“How do you know what I was gonna say?” A little bit of life flows back into his face, and it makes your hands warm against his skin.

“Cause it’s exactly what I do.” He blows out a puff of air, and his hands fall from your hip. You let him go, letting him set this pace. “You wouldn’t have known.”

“It’s been years, and I still think of ‘em every day. What I could of done.”

“Me too.” He still hasn’t stepped away. “I should of moved faster. Told my Dad to take those stupid fucking letters he got seriously. Told my mum not to lock the door so I could of got out quicker - helped them, maybe, I don’t know.”

“You were a kid.”

“Doesn’t matter, though. I could of been 30 years old and it would still have happened. And I miss them every day. Still will, even when I’m as old as you are.” You shove him a little on the shoulder and he shakes his head, smiling small. “I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologising.” You shrug, looking away. You feel his hand back on your hip, and the other one hooks a finger under your chin. Your breath hitches. Even though you’ve been sleeping in the same bed for the past four nights, it’s the closest you’ve been since he kissed you.“You uh- You should get your shit together. We might not come back here.”

With that, he takes a few steps back then walks out of the bathroom.

He’s right. Always is. You were going in tonight, and if your brother was being held in the same place as the doctors family, this would be it. Agent Madani would come in, make sure he’s safe, and you would probably never see Frank again.

Just a few weeks ago, you would of been happy to never see him again. That first time you met him, you wanted to rip his head off, literally. It’s what you were sent to do, what you were programmed to do. Now, though, you have had the chance to think for yourself - decide what you want. You thought when you got out all you would want to do is grab your brother and run as far away from this place as possible, but now the one thing you want to do is stay, and it’s the only thing you can’t do.

Agent Madani might be a good person, but she isn’t a miracle worker. You were still a murderer - wanted by the FBI for hundreds of crimes. There’s only so much one woman would do, and you have sacrificed too much to lose your brother for something as selfish as what you want. Who you want.

Sucking in a deep breath, you follow Franks instructions, packing what little you own into a bag and coming out into the main room.

“You know, I actually kind of liked it in here.” You say, coming up behind Frank as he sorts through what guns he’s packing into a black material bag.

“Yeah? Those alarms sound like home to you?” Neither of you had been able to turn them off, so like clockwork every six hours one of you had to shut them off. Sure, it was annoying as hell, especially at 2 in the morning, but it meant you got to wake up and still feel Frank sleeping behind you. He always woke up before you, so it was the only time you could enjoy it. “Take this.”

“Ah. Old friend.” The pistol Frank gave you in that hotel room now appears in your hand. You had lost track of it the night you got shot. He must of kept it when he stripped you down after saving your life. “Did this not get full of water?”

“Cleaned it up. It’ll be like a lucky charm.”

“Oh yeah, because getting shot in the kidney is a sign of good fortune.” He blows out a laugh, and swings the bag over his shoulder.

“You ready for this?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” You go to head towards the door, but he calls your name, snapping your attention back to him.

“If things go wrong in there, and you get your brother-“

“Hey, I thought you said you didn’t to ‘ifs, ands or butts’.”

“I don’t. But there’s a chance things can go wrong. If they do, you need to get him out, and get as far away as possible. No matter what happens.” His face was blank of any emotion, the hardened mask of a soldier.

“I’m not going to bail. I’m better than last time. You know that.”

“I know. Just - whatever happens, you get your family out. Promise me.”

“I’m not going to bail.” You want to tell him the truth, that you wouldn’t bail on him, but you just repeat the words, squaring your shoulders.

“You got a chance at this - to save him. You gotta take it, no matter what.” You feel every word, hitting you as hard as a punch.

“Do you remember what you said to me, that morning after I got shot?” You take a step towards him, pistol still in your hand. “You said you wouldn’t of left me. Then you asked if I would of done the same for you.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“Yes it is. No matter what happens, we are both walking out of there tonight. Even if I have to drag your ass out myself.” He told you that you would have time. Time to do the things you have imagined doing to him for longer than you would like to admit. You planned on seeing it through, at least tonight. “Now move it, soldier.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He walks past you to the car, and you notice how hard his fist is balled at his side, but you don’t say anything. All you can do is hope to whatever divine power there is that you make it through this night, and that there would be just one more, so you can see that promise through.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Stay low.” Frank mouths, and with the minimal light in the tunnel, even your eyes struggle to catch it. You nod, and you both begin to creep forward, seeing the four men guarding the next turn.

You knew coming in the back, there would be men in the way, but at least here you have them cornered, and there’s no other way out. Crouching down, both you and Frank take a side each. He uses his silenced pistol, shooting two in the head swiftly, while you keep your gun your pocket and crack the two guards heads together, feeling the crush of bone underneath your hands.

“Come here.” You tuck yourself behind the stack of dead bodies. The tunnel was only just big enough for you both to lie side by side, and you can see the flashlights up ahead, signalling more people. “It’s gonna get real tight before it opens. This part is small-“

“I remember there’s a cut away, just up to the right. I can fit through the gap and drop in above them, right when it opens to the end.” The hours you spent studying those stupid maps seem to come in handy. All the tunnels lead to one main section, presumably where the waste would have been dumped out and filtered if the project had finished, and it seemed the only likely area a temporary base would be. Frank looks at you with an emotion you can’t place in the dark, and then looks up ahead again.

“Go. I’ll clean it out here. Don’t drop down till I get there.”

“Shout if you need me.” You both stand as quietly as possible, and just as your about to turn and slip out the cutaway, Franks hand wraps around your neck.

He pulls you close, and it’s so dark you can’t see anything but you can smell him. You can hear how hard his heart is beating, running on pure adrenaline. He presses his forehead to yours, and you half hope he might kiss you, no matter how stupid it might be to do that here. He takes in a long breath, prolonging the seconds you have.

“Go.” He says again and lets his hand drop. You spin and turn immediately, knowing if you stood there another second you wouldn’t have the strength to leave.

You find the cut away quickly, and shimmy your way down the small opening above the tunnel. You presumed this was meant for wiring or filter pipes, but either way it was only just big enough for you to shift through. Finally seeing the end, you squint your eyes, looking down and watching as Frank makes his way up the tunnel.

You have only seen him in action once, and even then you were too distracted trying to aim your gun that you couldn’t watch him. He was coming up on about fourteen armed men, all in pretty much a row with little to no cover. You start to worry, maybe he would need help, but he said hold out, so you listen, remembering what happened last time you ignored him.

A guttural scream and a crack of bone snap your head to the right. You hadn’t even seen Frank move over there, but he already downed two men by the time the others realised someone was coming for them. Using the dead body as cover, he fires off perfectly aimed shots, sending bullets into heads and necks, spots he knows will kill instantly.

He drops people like fucking flies. All those articles you read about him taking on rooms full of people with just his fists - you thought they’d been exaggerating, but this was a whole new level. He fired more shots, and when the gun clicked blank, he had timed it perfectly so he was close enough to the last men to fight them hand to hand.

He throws one punch and sends the guy straight into the concrete, and two more men come in at the same time. Holding each one by the neck, Frank yells, and headbutts one while taking the punch of the other in the stomach. It was strategic - he knew he couldn’t fight both at once, so he knocked out the bigger guy first and took the brunt of the smaller, knowing he could finish him off.

He does, spilling his brains out onto the floor using the man’s own gun. He was heaving breaths, and you could hear commotion down the end of the tunnel now that the gunfire had stopped. He looks up at the end of the cut away and nods, then starts running down the tunnel. You shimmy up and out, and when you drop down, Frank is standing right next to you.

He’s covered head to toe in bright red. It’s dripping onto the floor, and when he grabs your arm and pushes something into your hand, you can feel the blood is still warm.

“Take this.” You know it’s his knife, one of the ones you had been throwing for the past few days after you mastered the kitchen knives. “You want right or left?”

You look over the drop down to the main section of the sewer, men with guns running around frantic after seeing a few of the bodies drop down from the tunnel entrance.

“I don’t care, but when we find the Colonel, he’s mine.” Frank nods, and the two of you jump down at the same time. The first guy you meet doesn’t even get the chance to scream before you rip his throat out.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Franks firing off more rounds than he can count. He had expected this - a bus load of assholes running around scared shitless, but he hadn’t realised just how many people ‘New America’ had. Either way, the two of you were making a big ass dent in them, and Frank could only see about eight people left standing.

You were going strong, using a mix of your own training and the new stuff he taught you. It made you unbeatable. A force, and if Frank didn’t have so many people shooting at him, he wouldn’t of been able to take his eyes off you.

Another guy comes at him, and Frank drops the gun. By his count, the ammo in it is out anyway, and he still has steam left in him. Just as he goes to throw a punch, the man stops his attack, freezes in the air, then drops to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Then he sees the knife, his knife, sticking out of the back of his head, and looks up to see a smug sort of look on your face.

“We clear?” Frank says, ripping the knife back out of the dead guys skull.

“Clear. The elevator shaft is up ahead, but there’s no actual lift. They have to be down there.” You swallow, chest rising and falling fast.

You lead the way, and Frank stays close behind, ready to dive in if anyone comes out. To get down, you’d have to go one at a time, climbing the service ladder, and he stops you just before the drop, descending first. It’s a long way down, longer than he realised, but you don’t seem surprised.

“Sacred of heights?” You whisper, reading his face way too easy.

“Just a long way out.” You nod, and begin to come down above him.

As you get about halfway, Frank hears it. It’s a woman, crying out in pain. And kids. Kids, screaming. They aren’t saying anything, just yelling out. Terrified. One of them could be your brother, but there’s definitely at least three people down there. A hard whack echos up the shaft, paired with more screaming. Your both moving twice as fast.

Frank hits the ground running, knowing you’ll be right behind him, and then he sees it.

A woman is strapped to a chair, her face bruised and bleeding. There’s two kids behind her, a little girl, no older than ten, and a boy, maybe around 12. For only a second he thinks that could be him - the boy you’ve been looking for your entire life, and then scans the room for anyone else.

A man in a military uniform towers over them, intimidating as he pulls up his fist to punch the woman again.

“Hey!” Franks voice is more animal than man, blood spitting out as he yells across the room. He’s moving fast, and with the momentum, doesn’t think before he just slams his body weight into the man, sending him straight onto the floor.

The Colonel.

You were next to him, and he looks up at you just for a second. He knows if that was your brother you wouldn’t be with him right now, you’d be over there. You look at the boy, and shake your head. It wasn’t him. He wasn’t here.

“Get them out, Frank.” You were towering over the Colonels crumpled body, jaw set tight. A flash of the metal coming out the tips of your fingers clues him in, and he knows this kill is yours.

Turning away, he can only hear the noise of what your doing. The sound of the Colonels scream was music to his ears, but he cut at the ropes tying the woman down.

“You okay to stand?”

“I’m fine - please, my babies. Please they need-“

“It’s okay. We’re gonna get you out of here.” He knew the look in her eyes. A parent who had suffered the worst of it, he could see it all over her body, to make sure her children didn’t face it. He got all three of them to the ladder, and heard another scream of pain from the Colonel. He couldn’t leave you down here, but it was a long way up.

“It’s okay. We can get out.” The little boy says to him, and Frank turns and bends down to his level. “I remember how to go out.”

“Yeah? Alright, buddy. You take this-“ He gives the burner phone he uses to call Madani to the boy, who’s eyes were wide with determination. “And call the number in there as soon as your up the top, okay?”

“Thank you.” The mother pulls him into a hug, not caring about how drenched in blood he is. “My husband-“

“The doctor?” She nods quickly. “He’s alright. He’s in. protective custody. The woman on the phone, she’ll take you to him.”

She looks down at his chest, recognising the bright white skull painted on it.

“We owe you our lives, Frank Castle.” Is what she says before disappearing up the ladder, following her children closely behind. There’s no one alive up the top anyways, so as soon as they dial that number, Madani will come for them.

He’s confident that they’re safe, so he turns back around, seeing your foot pressed against the Colonels neck, blood pooling in the side of his mouth. He pulls over the chair and sits down, content to watch the show.

“Where. Is. He.” You punctuate, and there’s none of that playful glint in your eye he knows so well. No, this was all business. You look how you did when he first met you - cold, wild. Mean. It’s a good look on you, when it’s aimed at someone other than him.

“I don’t. - I don’t kn-“ You slam your foot in his face, then crouch down as he spits out blood and teeth. “They don’t tell me!”

“Then your of no use to me.” Your hand grips his throat, and he can see the blood start to leak out from underneath your fingers.

“Wait! I can he- help you. I’m the only one who could draw the-em out.” He chokes out, and he watches you consider it. Then your hand loosens, and Frank stands up and walks over. The Colonel splutters, and tries to shuffle away from his approaching figure, but you kick him in the ribs and he falls flat.

“Don’t buy it.” Frank leans to whisper in your ear, locking eyes with the Colonel.

“How else do you suppose you can find America’s most notorious mobsters, huh? Whoring yourself out to the Punisher will only get you so f-“ Franks boot whacks him across the face, and he’s out cold.

“Frank.” You say, and hes still staring down at the man, who’s head is slumped to the side.

“He’s alive.” Frank growls, shoving at him with his boot.

“He might have a point.”

“Bullshit he has a point.”

“We could use him as bait. Draw them out and ambush them when they least expect it.”

“That’s if he isn’t still working with them. This wasn’t his entire operation - he’s still got men stationed somewhere.”

“I know. He could be - but either way, what else do we have on the Gnuccis? They’ve been ghosts since Washington.” He can see the frustration on your face. You had really thought your brother was going to be down here. “Maybe we…”

“No. This guys a maggot. We put him down now.”

“No one wants this douche bag dead more than me. Trust me. But, if we can get something out of him before we rip his arms off, maybe we should try. He’s the only lead I have, Frank, and as much as I want to, someone told me to fight with my head, and I’m trying to listen to him.” The Colonel starts to wake up, his head twisting to the other side. Frank sighs.

“Fuck. How do we get him out of here?”

“It’s probably easier if he’s unconscious, right?” Frank nods, and watches as your fist slams into his jaw, sending him straight back to sleep. “We should move. Agent Madani will be here any second. The doctors family - they were okay?”

“Looks like the mother took the worst of it. No idea what this piece of shit did to them down here.” He looks around, surveying the tiny area they had probably been kept in for weeks on end. It stinks like shit, and there was no bed, no place to be except for a tiny corner with a sheet on the ground. Looking back at the unconscious body, his mind starts to drift to all the ways he’s going to pull this guy apart.

“Pick him up. We need to move.” Before he can argue your on the ladder, and he’s swinging the dead weight over his shoulder, shuffling up the ladder.

There’s a part of him that’s relieved. Not because you didn’t get your brother - he thinks he wants that just as much as you do, now. He’s relieved because he thought that last night was it. That would be that last night he would spend with you, and he played it safe, sticking to his side of the bed, not doing shit about that energy he had no doubt you were brewing on too.

He was relieved that you would have the time he promised you, and that after he broke this assholes face for you, he would use that time to drive you just as insane as you have made him, in all the ways he knew how.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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padfootastic · 2 years ago

Text

wrote something for the first time in over 2 months; i haven’t even read it over bc i’m afraid i’ll hate it on sight so pls be gentle. it’s borne out of all the adhd james love we’ve been seeing recently.

Sirius stopped outside the door, keeping an eye out for unwanted intruders as he moved his wand in an intricate half circle, twisting it slightly before bringing it down with a harsh flick. Only when he saw the slight silver sheen emanating from the wood did he tuck his wand back into its holster and moved to open the door.

Careful to ensure that there was no one around him, he closed it quietly behind him, practiced enough at this that there wasn’t even a slight click. In front of him, James was sitting on the window ledge, one leg pulled up to his chest and another dangling off the other side of it. Sirius would be worried if he didn’t know that the entire area was secured with enough safety charms to contain a small child jumping out.

“Jamie?” he whispered, padding quietly over to stand beside his friend. His only response was a slight turning of James’ head and it was clear why.

James had his eyes closed but it did nothing to hide the exhausted slump of his shoulders, the wrinkling of his brow, and the way his fists were clenching haphazardly. Sirius didn’t bother saying anything else, just stepped up close enough that his side was pressed against James’. He placed a hand around his head and gently guided it towards his own chest, making sure that James’ ear was pressed right against his rib cage. He hadn’t said it out loud but it wasn’t hard to deduce that the sound of Sirius’ heartbeat was soothing to James when he reached this state. Having an external point of focus meant he could escape the whirlwind inside his own mind. Sirius would stand there for hours if he had to, had no other purpose than to make sure James was alright, in that moment.

They stayed like that for a while, Sirius with his arm around him, fingers stroking his temple in a consistent manner, until James’ breathing slowed down to a point that he seemed almost asleep.

Sirius knew better, though. He wasn’t sleeping; he’d just managed to calm down enough that his pulse wasn’t jackrabbiting from stress anymore. That was the signal.

“J,” he murmured, bending until he could touch his lips to one eyelid. He pressed a soft, featherlight kiss, moving on to the other one and repeating. Slowly, made his way down until he reached a pair of soft, slightly chapped lips and stopped, not doing anything, only resting his mouth against James’, breathing in the same air, noses resting against each other’s.

This is what he lived for—these small moments of intimacy that were just theirs, his. No one else got to see James like this, with his face lax and eyes half-closed and body tightly wound yet moulding into Sirius’ hold. No one else was able to scale the walls James placed around himself and for Sirius to be allowed in, it was a privilege he held in his palms with the utmost reverence.

“Tha—.” Sirius swallowed his heartfelt, but ultimately unnecessary, gratitude with an insistent kiss. A ‘thank you’ was the last thing on his mind, right now, and the sooner James realised this wasn’t even the bare minimum Sirius could, and would, do for him, the better.

“I love you,” he whispered, finally, pulling apart after seconds and minutes and hours. “I see you, and I love you.”

The smile on James’ face, slightly shy and a little trembling and all his, only for Sirius’, would be seared in his memory until the day he died.

#sirius black #james potter #prongsfoot #i tried to convince myself to write something low pressure like a drabble #and it seemed to have worked?#also dani’s voice was in the back of my head #telling me to write adhd james lmao #i…don’t know if this holds up but. it’s something. i’m counting that as a win #when i say i haven’t read this over—i mean like. at all. not even to proof read #also!!! the anons in my ask box—i promise i see u and i’m trying #i feel so guilty i’m not as wrong immediately? even if it’s wildly impossible rn #answering*#considering how bad my network coverage& daily schedule is #but god do i miss it #right. so i’m just gonna yeet this out here and disappear before i delete out of pure cringe #have fun!#send me ur adhd james headcanons i’d you’d like to #i sure would love to read it #pen’s writing #tumblr works

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starbuckie · 4 years ago

Text

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

pairing(s): college!peter parker x reader, dark!steve rogers x reader, dark!sam wilson x reader, dark!bucky barnes x reader

words: 8.1k words

warnings: DARK!FIC, SMUT 18+ (unprotected sex, foursome turned fivesome, gangbang, non-con/dub-con, daddy kink, oral M and F-receiving, spit kink, degredation kink, praise kink, creampie), age-gap (reader is in her early 20s), cheating, angst, there’s like zero fluff

summary: peter should’ve made it back to the tower for date night on time, or maybe just before he found his girlfriend being fucked by three other superheroes.

a/n: eee my first dark fic! im so so happy with the way this turned out, and even though it was a pain in my ass for nearly three months, im so hapy to share it with y’all. this idea was brought up by an anon from @mypoisonedvine’s saturday sleepover a few months back, but i switched up tony and sam bc i didn’t like the tony and peter stuff. hopefully my smut has improved from the first time i wrote it in january, and just a reminder that in no way, shape, or form do i condone rape of any kind. there’s a large difference from the page and the real world. i try to put all tw’s in the tags and warnings, but if there was something i missed please tell me. thank you to my lovely bestie @mermaidxatxheart for beta-reading(i have no fucking clue what i’d do without your help). feel free to leave a comment or two and reblog, but don’t repost anywhere or i will hunt down your ass. thank you again and please please enjoy <3

main masterlist || mcu masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist

Bucky wasn’t planning to fuck Y/N as soon as he saw her.

It started with a faint mention, something Tony had thrown around along the lines of, “Parker’s bringing his girl down here tomorrow, don’t be an asshole”. He didn’t give a damn what Tony said or how he acted around Peter’s girl. Years of being thrown between gruesome mind-wiping and being half-dead, asleep in a freezer would do that to a man.

So the next day when Peter brought his girlfriend in, he was scratching his ass like a fucking ape and downing a beer with a messy bun at the nape of his neck, until he actually saw her. Neat hair, even neater laces with a sweet smile but a body that could kill. Didn’t matter that she was bundled under Parker’s hoodie and a pair of jeans- he could always admire a pretty dame, but Bucky could see that she was beyond that. It was as if God had intentionally made the one being, the one ethereal creature beautiful and angelic enough to be a sin away from him, so that he couldn’t touch her. Because she was young, and in her twenties, and that shouldn’t have even been the first two things that popped up in his mind because she was also Peter’s girlfriend.

But then she had the audacity to stick her hand out, a shy grin and twinkle in her eyes as she gave her name. It sounded so pretty rolling off of her tongue, and he wondered what it would sound like while he groaned it into her cunt.

Y/N.

So, yeah, maybe Bucky wasn’t planning to fuck her as soon as he met her, but it was pretty damn close after.

Steve Rogers was one of very few men who said they had the pleasure of banging nearly every woman on the north side of Manhattan. Bucky indulged in the fact that the man who had once been too shy to do so much as meet a gal’s gaze was now “a dollar whore”, but he was more than happy to keep that title if it meant he could continue to get off in the nearest woman’s mouth everyday.

Every time he walked down the streets of New York with just a simple ball cap and jeans, he could feel stares on his back from what seemed like miles away, girls on every street corner just waiting for him to take her into the nearest public bathroom and fuck them dirty. CEOs, baristas, girls fresh out of getting master’s degrees with stars in their eyes and big dreams, until he shattered them by making them gag on his cock and scream his name into bedsheets. Or tile floors. He didn’t care as long as they were screaming. The girls of this century were just too delectable to turn down. He didn’t discriminate. His dick had been in women of every height, stature, hair color, and he had quite the variety throwing themselves at him as well.

And then Tony ruined it all and sat him down with a simple explanation that the image of Captain America was being tainted with disturbing stories of girls being fucked in the ass and thrown on their knees in dirty bathroom stalls. The blond was beyond pissed when the billionaire told him to stop dicking around, but he couldn’t do anything else if he wanted to keep his title and job. In a new century, even if he’d had a few years to adjust, he was still absolutely oblivious when it came to anything outside of aliens and sex. There was nothing left for him outside of being an Avenger, so reluctantly he agreed to keep his number of conquests to a minimum, and most definitely inside of the tower rather than out on the street.

However, inside of the tower seemed to be no problem at all when Peter brought his girlfriend over, all smiles and straight A’s, and that’s when Steve realized that he’d yet to fuck a bright, little college student. He could see himself stripping her from the innocence in her eyes, loosening up her pussy with his thick cock against the wall in his room.

Surely Tony couldn’t reprimand him for spending a little time trying to bond with Peter’s new girl, right?

Sam Wilson was a simple man. He had a job, a well-paid one at that, somewhere to live, a girlfriend, or a woman to keep him company, that’s for sure- but for once in his life he was seeking out something other than missions, something that would keep him busy when he was feeling bored, something like-

Pleasure, and he knew that he’d finally found what he was looking for the moment Peter brought his girlfriend through the elevator doors on the fifty-sixth level of the Avengers tower. She’d shaken his hand so daintily and spoke so politely that if he were to see her without any backstory, he’d think she was another innocent, dim-witted college student, breaking her bank account every Saturday morning and naively believing that her relationship would last longer than a few months. But by the things Parker had told him, she was much more than that.

Was it shitty of Peter to tell his teammates, the people he worked with, how Y/N was in bed? By the majority’s vote, probably, and by Sam’s strict conduct of his own morals, definitely, but when Peter’s girl looked like that and he was so incredibly bored with his routine?

Well, fuck, Sam had never been happier that the Spider-kid had told everyone how his girl gave head.

Peter brought his girlfriend in daily after that, and every one of her visits, she grew less shy and more friendly, and the Falcon saw each of his friends gape at her growing comfortability with a wolfish demeanor. It started with the water incident with Steve in the kitchen, where he so clearly spilled water on her already thin, white camisole with intention. Sam couldn’t say he was upset though, after all Steve had offered him and the rest of the Avengers quite a show when he tried to clean up her shirt, taking his sweet, sweet time to fondle her tits as subtly as he could, his eyes staring at her pebbled nipples poking through the material. He could see Bucky hiding his boner under his cereal bowl on the couch that day.

Then of course, he’d been no better than America’s sweetheart himself when he greeted Y/N with a hug that in hindsight, was a little too enthusiastic. His large hands squeezed into the pockets of her back pocket, and if the college student found anything weird with it, she didn’t say so, but Sam graciously palmed the round globes of her ass in his hands, feeling the muscle clench under his fingers. Oh, how he’d never hugged someone that tight ever before in his life. Maybe he would’ve gotten a bit further than squeezing her ass had it not been for his own girlfriend standing behind him, ready to introduce herself to Y/N.

Bucky, well, Sam could admit that Bucky had the most guts out of all of them. Though the super-soldier was normally well-reserved and polite, the dark glint in his eyes the day he met Y/N let him in on the secret that he had a much dirtier mind than most thought. It had been movie night that time, and he barely even tried to cover up how much he wanted the girl, his hands resting all over her as they watched Inception. Hardly a movie to get so riled up over, yet Bucky’s hand still inched its way up her thigh, his rough fingers gently carressing the flesh until they started to lightly trace the apex of her thighs.

If she noticed anything then, she didn’t comment on it, doe-like eyes just marvelling at the screen in great intrigue. It was only when Peter’s arms wrapped around her a bit tighter did she scooch away from Bucky’s touch, with a small apology and shy grin.

That only made his dick harder.

On the other side of Bucky, his super-soldier counterpart tapped his knee gently, forcing their blue eyes to meet each other. No words had to be said between the two, three men when they looked over to Sam, because they all recognized that look they saw in each other's eyes; predatory, dark, nearly voracious in the way they all wanted to be balls deep inside of Y/N.

And they would get there. No matter how long it took, they knew that the ultimate prize of tearing their prey apart would be more than worth the wait.

“Hey, babe, I’m gonna be a little late. Ned and I got stuck back in the lab, so we’re gonna need to stay until eight or nine. Can you make it to the tower by yourself alright?”

Peter’s concerned voice made Y/N smile gently as she trudged along the rainy streets of New York. He always loved to worry about her, especially when it was dark and gloomy out, but she could handle herself pretty okay. By pretty okay, of course meant she could kick ass like no other twenty-something year-old, but she wasn’t one to brag. Y/N readjusted the Kate Spade purse on her shoulder with her right hand, attempting to keep her umbrella over her head with the other. “I’ll be fine, Pete, just go finish up and get back to me. I’m gonna be waiting in your room at the tower before you go off on that mission this weekend.”

A small sigh came through the speaker, “Okay, I’ll try to get back to you soon. I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Pete.”

“Oh,” she could hear the shy but no less mischievous smile that was taking over his face, “I left you a little present on the bed, make sure you open it before I get back.”

Y/N’s face heated at the implication. “Peter Parker, you dirty little-” He ended the call with a laugh, and she huffed out a small chuckle at his childish antics.

The walk to the Avengers tower would have been nice, had it not been for the downfall of rain, making everything mushy, socks being absolutely soaked through her sneakers by the time she arrived. The receptionist at the front desk, Jenny, if Y/N remembered correctly, stared at her a little oddly, probably not expecting to see the young college girl in such a state of disorder, but it didn’t affect her at all. She confidently strutted up to the elevator, pressing in the floor number where all the rooms were located. Y/N scrolled through her Twitter feed on her phone while classic rock blared through the elevator with the constant shuffling of people moving in and out. Seven minutes and thirty-two seconds later she was sprinting down the halls with soggy shoes and damp hair, her cold body screaming for warmth.

Peter’s room was the farthest down the hall, and the room was fairly empty. He rarely stayed at his room in the tower, preferring to stay with his Aunt May or keep Y/N company in Brooklyn. When she entered the room, she saw a plain white shirt and a pair of socks strewn upon the carpeted floor, but what really caught her eye was the red box wrapped in a pink bow on the bed. Deciding it would add more suspense if she opened it later, she quickly hopped in the shower, letting the hot water warm her freezing, rigid muscles under the spray.

Peter didn’t have all the products she’d usually use before she knew they were going to have sex, so she had to make do with the half-used bar of Irish Spring and his small travel-sized bottles of shampoo and conditioner, promising the fresh, breezy smell of citrus and mint. It was a quick process; two squeezes of shampoo, shaving with the green soap as best as she could without cutting herself, one squeeze of conditioner. A fuzzy towel sat waiting for Y/N on the rack, with the Spiderman symbol as a prank gift from her to her lovely boyfriend, and without a second to let the heat leave her damp skin, she wrapped herself in it, quickly hopping out to the bedroom again.

The lingerie she set out on the bed was a deep set burgundy color, with lace decorating the delicate corset and the trim of the satin panties. The packaging really did not do it justice. Y/N grinned at the new set, one that she knew would happily be torn from her body later. A shiver ran through her as she let the cold air fall over her skin, carefully slipping the lingerie on. It was a damn shame, really; the set was quite nice, and she reminded herself to buy more of the nicely suiting color for their nights together.

Click.

Y/N’s heart thumped with anticipation as she heard the door open and she took a quick moment to ready herself. Hair in perfect style, legs stretched along the length of the bed to make herself look as seductive as possible, a small smirk thrown on her pouty lips.

But in the darkened room, it wasn’t Peter’s shadow that appeared. Three men, three tall, bulkier men’s shadows appeared at the foot of the bed, and horror washed over her as she realized who they were. “Goddamn, dolly, I’ve imagined what you would’ve looked like under those sweaters, but this is much sweeter than I expected.”

The sinister face of Bucky Barnes came into her view, just a sliver of moonlight lighting up his pale skin. His eyes raked over Y/N’s uncovered skin, and goosebumps appeared as she tried to cover herself up under his predatory gaze.

“W-what are you doing here?” She whispered worriedly. Sam and Steve flanked the bed on either side of her, plastered sickly sweet smiles on their faces, providing her with a false sense of security that made her heart scream in fear. Though she wasn't making any noise, her lungs felt like they were going to give out, her throat closing up like an allergic reaction.

Her head whipped every which way in robotic movement, her brain seeming to fail her as she scanned the room for an exit. Several moments of shortened breaths, cold air chilling her body, before she came out of her freezing shock to realization.

“Why are you here? Please, get out, just g-get out!”

A calloused hand pushed away Y/N’s left arm that covered her tits, and Steve groaned at the sight of her pebbled nipples. “God, baby, they’re as pretty as I thought they’d be. Been trying to feel them up all week, but you knew that, didn’t you?”

Saturday the week before at lunch when he’d spilled water over chest and tried to clean her up. Sam’s friendly hug that became a bit less friendly when his hands slipped into the back pockets of her jeans. The movie night on Monday when Bucky’s hand caressed her thigh a little too close to her core. All of their touches began to make more sense, and her eyes filled with tears at the realization.

“Please,” she begged, tears blocking her vision, “I promise I won’t tell anyone, not even Pete, but please just go.”

“You just don’t get it, do you?” Steve asked. He grasped her chin roughly, his face close enough to hers so that she could feel his fiery breath on her lips. “We’re not leaving, sweetheart. You’re gonna let all three of us play with your pretty little body, and you’re gonna make the prettiest sounds for us, alright?”

Y/N shook her head violently, too afraid to make noise, but also bold enough to make one last attempt at freedom. The hand that held her chin quickly moved to slap her cheek, and she hated the way the sting made heat stir in her lower belly. She tried to shy away from their touch again, but Bucky’s face simply held the same smirk as he trailed his vibranium fingers up and down her leg.

“Oh, come on, Y/N, don’t act all shy now. Peter has been telling us how good you’ve been to him and don’t think he hasn’t told us about your little childhood crush on little ol’ me. Been wanting to fuck you ever since.” Bucky’s hand quickly left her body, instead moving to palm over the bulge in his pants. “Fuck, sweetheart, got me real hard just thinking ‘bout your pussy swallowing my cock. Bet you’re gonna be a sweet, obedient girl for me, right?”

Fire started to course through Y/N’s veins, and with all the power she tried to dampen it down with, it seemed to push through her body that much more dangerously. She despised the fact that she could feel herself growing wet for the three older men, but God, she had never felt the need to be filled up as badly as she did in that moment.

“You’re a bit of a slut, don’t you think?” Sam mocked. He kneeled on her right, his eyes fixated on her panty-clad pussy, a wet patch already forming on the soft satin. It really didn’t help that three of her teen celebrity crushes were eyeing her nearly naked body like a piece of meat. “I mean, look at you, already growing wet and needy for three cocks. Is that what you want, honey? Parker not treating you good enough?”

She hesitated. Goosebumps rose across her skin at the sinister tone of his voice, like he already knew it was true. And it was true and she hated that Sam was right, but as amazing as Peter was a boyfriend, it was clear from the vibrator hiding in his apartment’s bathroom that he was not amazing in the sheets. Every time, she held hope that it would be better, that she would finally get to stop faking an orgasm before he rolled out of the bed with a filled up condom, but she knew deep down inside of her that it wasn’t happening anytime soon. Y/N forced herself to nod weakly at Sam’s questions, and Bucky chuckled. “Oh, you poor dolly, we’re gonna have so much fun with you. Treat you better than that little boy ever could.”

All it took was a whimper, a nearly audible, deadly silent whimper that managed to squeak its way past Y/N’s throat, and the three men took it as permission to ravage her body however they pleased.

Steve made quick work of his pants as Sam lifted her chin to kiss him, his tongue hot and heavy against her mouth, coaxing her lips open. The sound of belt buckles hitting the floor shamefully turned on Y/N even more. Panic coursed through her senses, her mind wanting to scream for them to stop, but her body knew her too well as she felt a wave of slick run down her thighs. Cold metal digits slipped under the waistband of her panties, moving to her wet folds, and she whimpered into Sam’s mouth at the touch.

“You look so nice, baby, so pretty all laid out for us like this.” Bucky’s hands pulled down her panties as Steve pinched her peaked nipple through the lace, laying lavish, open-mouthed kisses down her torso. The cool air hit her pussy when Bucky’s hands pulled her legs wide open, fully exposed to the three men ready to use her against her will. “Knew you’d be so wet for us, sweetheart, just look at you. Dripping all for your daddies,” Steve murmured against her skin.

Hot breath fanned over her cunt before they rolled her over on her stomach, someone’s hands forcing her up onto her knees with her face smashed into the cotton pillows. She could feel two rough human hands pulling her ass cheeks apart, spreading her ever wider for their view. “Would you look at that, boys, look how fucking hot she is for us.”

Sam’s thick finger ran through her folds, the calloused pad of his finger just teasing her clit before landing a harsh smack to the inside of her thigh. Her moan was muffled through the mattress and she prayed they wouldn’t hear how being treated like whore made her wet like nothing else.

Hot slick dripped down her thighs, a pool of it staining the pristine sheets by each knee. It was quite a sight, Steve, kneeled by the bed as his face hovered next to her ear, whispering filthy things into her ear as Bucky stroked his hard, leaking cock right next to him. Sam’s lips were making their way up the inside of her right thigh, cracked skin gliding across her sticky flesh. “Oh, baby,” he purred, “you smell so good. Bet you taste even better, don’t you, little girl?”

His tongue reached the apex of her thighs, finally licking a stipe up her center with no warning. Y/N sobbed into the comforter below her, mascara stained tears marking up her face. Two fingers edged their way between the bed and her face, forcing her head upwards and arching her back. Steve’s face was caught in a dirty smirk above hers, lip pulled taut between his teeth, until he saw the tears trailing down her face. “Oh, sweetheart, you look so desperate like this.” His fingers traced her smeared lip gloss around her lips, before opening her lips harshly. “Open up, you dumb baby.”

Y/N forced her jaw open wider, just enough to watch a string of Steve’s saliva drip into her mouth. The thick spit pooled on her tongue and she tried hard not to grimace in front of him, in hopes that he wouldn’t make her-

“Swallow it, sweetheart.” He saw the hesitation in her eyes, how her lower lip trembled at his words, but he just laughed at her. “Now.”

The warm saliva slid down her tongue and more black tears ran down her face as she obliged his orders, finally gulping it and cringing at the taste. Steve loved the way her face screwed up in displeasure, how she still had the audacity to pretend she hated what they were doing though she was moaning and whimpering with Sam’s tongue attacking her entrance.

“What do you want, sweetheart? We might give it to you as long as you use your words.” Bucky taunted lightly.

Y/N stared up at the brunette, staring menacingly down at her with his cock in hand. “Please,” she whimpered.

The three found it woeful, the way she could barely get a full sentence out as Sam went to town with his skilled tongue, but even with that onslaught, a simple please wasn’t enough for them.

“Please what, honey,” Sam moaned from between her legs, “you gotta use your big words or we’ll never know what you want from us.”

Steve and Bucky nodded in fake-agreement even though they all knew exactly what she wanted and where.

“I don’t-” her widened eyes glanced into Steve’s, blown-out and teary. “I don’t want anything, not from you.” She lied through her teeth harshly.

Sam removed his head from between her thighs and Y/N immediately whined at the loss of contact almost hilariously. “You don’t want anything, little girl?”

The air felt static, every hair on her neck rising in the pressured silence. The angel and the devil clawed at her heart, each trying to show her what was right. And she wanted to sin, God knew that she would love nothing more than to let that little greedy part of her take over, but she’d already cheated on Peter and that damn good part of her conscience stole the wheels of her brain.

Slowly and shamefully, she shook her head, though the downright dirty monster inside of her wanted the men to ignore her words and keep assaulting her body.

“That’s a shame, baby, I thought we were having fun.” Sam sighed. He met Bucky’s gaze on the side, and though they seemed to be in resignation with her wishes, their eyes twinkled devilishly. He positioned his body over Y/N’s kneeled over form, his bare chest glued to her sweating back as his hands ran up the sides of her ribcage and to her front, just barely grazing over her sensitive nipples. “You mean, you don’t want me to touch you here?”

He pinched the darkened buds and she had to use every ounce of self-restraint to not collapse at the sensation. His calloused hands moved back even further, tracing down to the stretch of skin just above her mound, swiping a finger across the skin delicately. “How about here? Or even,” he brought three fingers around her body, over her ass, and into her glistening cunt again, just rubbing along her entrance, not daring to go further in. Y/N couldn’t hold in her reaction to his prodding anymore, his teasing chipping away all of her dignity and pride in a few simple touches.

“Yes, please, please, use your fingers,” she blurted against her will. Where shame should have washed over her, there was only lust, raging red and coursing through her body so forcefully that she felt braindead. “Put your fingers in me, daddy, please.”

The pet name rolled off of her tongue so easily and she was barely ashamed of how it made her feel. The name especially shocked the three men, who smiled even wider with their cocks harder than before at the little slip up. “That was all you had to say, dolly, gonna have your daddies make you feel real good,” Bucky laughed.

Sam finally plunged his thick fingers knuckle-deep into her cunt as Steve’s mouth captured hers, effectively swallowing her scream with ferocity. The long digits scissored and swirled inside of her, pressing against new unexplored areas that she’d never even gotten to with her own fingers. White dots danced along the front line of her vision as teeth clashed against hers and though it’d been mere minutes she already knew she was close and the men did as well.

“I can feel you clamping around my fingers, honey,” Sam taunted. His lips were moving sinfully around her ass, planting sloppy kisses and drooling all over her skin while he fingered her deep. “Are you gonna come soon, baby?”

“Yes, daddy, I’m so- fuck,” Y/N panted into Steve’s mouth, “m’ so c-close.” The blond bit her tongue hard enough for her to taste blood and she yelped as she heard Sam and Bucky laugh.

“Watch your language, dolly,” Bucky sneered from the side of the bed. His hand was rapidly moving around his cock, corkscrew motions edging him towards the brink of pleasure.

“Little girls like you don’t get to use big swear words,” Sam’s face was still buried between her legs, his soaked fingers pulling out of her cunt only to rub at her little pearl of nerves in circles. His tongue still lapped at her dripping entrance and he could feel her tight hole start to pulse as her breathing picked up. “Oh, baby, you’re getting close, aren’t you?”

Y/N was hesitant to answer at first, the sweat on her body seeming to cool immediately in fear of what would happen if she messed up. But after five seconds Steve stopped kissing her, gripping her chin and staring into her eyes deeply. He looked as debauched as she felt, with his rosy lips swollen with spit and cheeks tinged with pink. “Are you gonna answer daddy, sweetheart?”

That knocked her into shape real fast.

“Yes, daddy, I’m so close. P-please let me come,” she whimpered. The whine in her voice pleased the two men, and Steve went back to exploring her mouth before she felt something poking against her asshole.

“Gonna let daddy put his cock in you, little girl?” Sam asked gently. His words had panic coursing through her system, a chilling realization like water being poured on her head and she began to wiggle around, trying to free Sam’s hand from her hip. Her arms weakly pushed at Steve’s chest, trying to push him as far away as he could, but the men only laughed at her flailing limbs. Y/N wanted to scream no to them, and despite her contrasting love-hate relationship with Sam’s fingers inside her cunt she knew it was time to go. It was laughable how much she would continue to say that to herself for the rest of the night.

But Sam managed to sense her panic, knowing exactly what the issue was before harshly spanking her and effectively stopping her struggle. “Don’t worry, baby, I won’t come inside of you. I’m not risking knocking up a whore with my kids, I’ve got more dignity than that.”

He led the leaking tip of his dick down her crack, rubbing it along her slick entrance before pushing in with a groan. “Oh my fucking God, that is so hot.” Bucky admonished from the side. “Gotta get in on that soon.”

Steve chuckled against Y/N’s lips, pulling away with a strand of saliva connecting them. He adjusted himself up so his dick was centimeters from her face, a knee propped up on the bed for balance. “Gotta wait your turn, Buck, we all want a piece of her.” He noticed the way Y/N’s eyes were transfixed on his cock, the red mushroom head smeared with precome along the slit, nearly purplish veins standing out prominently on his shaft. Yeah, he couldn’t even deny that he was big because he already knew how many girls had dropped down on their knees for him. “Go ahead, sweetheart, open up those pretty lips for me.”

Almost too excitedly, she dropped her jaw, allowing him to slide his cock into the silky warmth of her mouth. As his hips started to thrust into her mouth, Sam’s started to do the same into her cunt. Both men moaned in tandem with their movements as Y/N’s worries faded away to the back of her mind as they stuffed her to the brim.

“You can come now, baby,” Sam nearly ordered, “go and cream on daddy’s cock- fuck, I know you’ve been waiting.”

It was a harsh bump of his head against her G-spot that sent her over the edge, walls clamping down with ferocity and milking him for all she was worth. Y/N reeled in the sunlight infested warmth that coursed through her body as she finally let go, whining around Steve’s dick as he continued to abuse her throat with long, deep thrusts.

Bucky was still holding his orgasm off, fondling with his tight, heavy sac while his dick remained a painfully hard mess, glistening with precome. “I’m so glad I got to see you come, dolly, look so fucking pretty when you do.”

She couldn’t deny the little skip of her heart at the praise, just a few simple words that made her feel like a good little girl. But no, God-fucking no, she wasn’t supposed to let them make her feel this way. Guilt washed away that warmth in her chest just as quickly, knowing that her boyfriend was just waiting to come back to see her, finishing up his studies so that they could live their lives out together after college while she was getting her pussy and mouth absolutely wrecked by his co-workers.

As soon as Y/N got her brain thinking straight again, Sam started moving inside of her again and she garbled out a strangled cry. “If you thought we were done here, baby,” Sam laughed, “you’ve got a lot left ahead of you.”

“We’re not leaving until all of us have come, brat.” Steve’s palm gripped the back of her skull roughly, pushing her head so far down on his dick that her nose was squished against his abdomen. “Greedy little bitch.”

Both men started to thrust into her again, and just like that she was back to being absolutely lost in desire and lust like the bitch in heat she was until there was a sudden shift in the air. So much that the sweat on her body began to cool her skin, Sam’s hands still gripping her hips so tightly she knew they’d leave marks that she would have to hide when she wore her favorite low-cut shorts.

Bucky’s eyes seemed to drift from her tits moving with each movement of her hips, checking behind the door as if there were something lurking there, but she was too afraid to see for herself. If she stopped she would get spanked, and they’d probably prolong her second orgasm even further, and her pussy couldn’t handle any more subtle teasing.

“Hey there, Parker, why don’t come on out here?”

But that, that was what made the hairs on Y/N’s neck rose, dread filling her to the fullest as she realized the implications of Sam’s words.

Peter had seen everything. Peter, her boyfriend, had seen three of his co-workers, three men who she barely knew, fuck her deep into his mattress. Peter, her boyfriend, had watched her get fucked into his mattress, without trying to stop them whatsoever.

She couldn’t tell if it was the guilt of cheating on her boyfriend or the freezing realization that he hadn’t done anything to stop the three men that hurt more.

Yet Peter still walked from behind the door, dressed in a NYU hoodie and a pair of khakis slung low on his hips, just drawing attention to the sizable bulge that stretched out his zipper. His umber eyes, normally full of so much joy and love, were possessed by the same lust and darkness as the three men, as much as he tried to hide it behind a shyer facade.

His eyes were trained on the tightness of how Y/N’s pussy was gripping Sam, her lips glossed over with come and spit wrapped around Steve’s dick. The girl stopped in her movements, her eyes no longer full of tears for just being gagged, but as soon as her mouth came to a halt around the base of his cock, the blond slapped her across the face. A sharp crack echoed around the room and though she couldn’t see him, she heard Bucky’s feral growl of pleasure at the whorish treatment she was receiving.

“Didn’t say you could fucking stop, sweetheart, keep working on daddy’s cock.” No more words needed to be said as Steve gripped her hair once more, forcing himself farther back into her throat to the point where she couldn’t breathe. Sam’s thrusts were quickening, closer and closer to release as the sounds of the girl struggling to breath made his balls tighten.

“Fucking shit, baby, you feel yourself squeezing my dick? I bet you like teasing daddy like that, don’t you?” One of his hands were brought down on her ass in a quick smack that resonated with Bucky, who was staving off his orgasm for something much sweeter than his hand. She was moaning raucously around the dick stuffed in her mouth, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure up every nerve in Steve’s body as he came with the tip of his dick nearly being swallowed by Y/N’s throat. There was barely any time for her to fully down the thick come in her mouth before Sam was threatening to orgasm. “I’m gonna come so soon but you better fucking not, little girl, you hear me? Gotta let your daddy come before you, you ungrateful little bitch- oh.”

It was a really fucking close call, Sam’s dick pulling out of her with one quick movement before spilling pearly ropes of come onto Y/N’s spine. A high whine escaped her mouth, clit throbbing as she was so, so close to coming, and she was too far into her crazed pleasure to realize that she was letting three older men, men who fought to defend the universe from evil, use her as an over-glorified fleshlight.

She couldn’t really blame them for calling her a cockdrunk whore.

Bucky sauntered over to the bed, eyes trained on the pool of come centered around the base of her spine before flipping her over onto her back with his large hands and shoving three vibranium fingers back into her hole. She gasped and held onto his forearm as he continued to fingerfuck her to her second orgasm, eyes screwed shut in a delirious haze of contentment for being filled with at least something again.

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky, please-” Steve slapped her along the face, correcting her words immediately. “Daddy, daddy, please let me come.”

Bucky chuckled, tweaking one of her nipples with his flesh hand as he hovered over her face. “I don’t know, dolly, you’ve been a little naughty, callin’ me the wrong name, not listening to Stevie’s orders- don’t think you deserve to get what you want.”

A muffled whimper escaped her swollen lips, and he sighed in surrender. “Okay, dollface, go ahead and come on my fingers. Let me see how you wet ‘em up real good.”

Y/N’s hips bucked into his metal digits with finality, come leaking out of her cunt and soaking the sheets below her. Her sweat-glazed skin shone even against the darkening sky, and all Bucky could do was chuckle at how her chest rose quickly as she tried to catch her breath. He thought about teasing her clit again, just circling around the little bud of nerves to get a rise out of her, but he decided against it. Sam probably had better plans for her anyway.

On the other hand, Y/N’s orgasm was starting to wear off as she noticed the hardened stare from the edge of the room. Her boyfriend.

“Peter, I…” Y/N made eye contact with him, suddenly noticing how mousy he looked in his own bedroom.

“I nearly forgot you were here, Parker,” Sam smirked darkly. “Why don’t you come over here and fuck your little whore. I’m feeling a little generous today.”

Steve and Bucky nodded with the same infuriating smugness as Sam. The brunette boy opened his mouth to object to the degrading statement, but when he met his girlfriend’s eyes nothing needed to be said. There was no escaping this. Nothing he said mattered to the three older men, because really they had already gotten everything they wanted right in front of their disgusting, perverted eyes.

He unbuckled his belt, letting the weight of it drop his khakis to the floor. Maybe if he’d known he would be forced into join a fivesome later that night he’d have picked any other boxers but the Ducktales one, but no one seemed to say a word about them, rather focusing on what they were failing to conceal.

Peter’s cock had always been admirable to Y/N by its length and God, definitely its thickness. Curved upwards towards his abdomen with a vein running along the left side up to the bulbous head, it was definitely more than average. It was really just a shame he didn’t know how to use it well enough.

His shirt was pulled over his head just as quickly, and if Y/N knew any better she would say that he was excited to get to fuck her in front of the three men. He placed himself in between Y/N’s parted legs, standing in the same position as he had so many times before.

But when Y/N cried out in pain and pleasure as he slid into her, Peter knew that this time, it was different. This time three men, men that he used to trust with his life, stood on either side of him and his girlfriend and jerked their hands up and down their cocks as they watched her get fucked relentlessly. It wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t romantic, but he couldn’t really think when his thick cock was stuffed inside of her stimulated pussy, juices and come leaking out of her abused sex.

“Go faster, Parker,” Steve instructed, his face contorted in pure pleasure. The pace of Peter’s thrusts sped up, and he threw Y/N’s ankles over his shoulders, hitting deeper inside of her, with the sound of her sobs only turning them all on more. “Oh, right there, shit, shit, shit-”

Steve came first, a low groan escaping his lips as streams of come landed on her tits, still bouncing with every movement of Peter’s hips.

“Open up,” Sam gritted through his teeth, and Y/N obediently opened her mouth to let his bitter come coat the inside of her throat, some of it landing on her face and neck. The string of curses he let out made Peter thrust even faster into her, and he hated, absolutely despised the way it turned him on to see the three men use his girlfriend to their pleasure. But soon enough a hand pushed against his chest away from Y/N and he reluctantly pulled out.

“Move aside, kid,” Bucky instructed, “Wanna come inside of her.”

As he lined his gigantic cock up with her entrance, her eyes widened with fear. “No, please, I didn’t take my pills, I can’t- I won’t, please not inside-”

“Shut the fuck up, you slut.” Bucky’s fingers came to slap her clit harshly, and she cried out in pain. “You’re gonna be quiet and let me come wherever I damn want, right?”

He punctuated his last word as he thrust inside her, filling her up to the hilt with his girth. She was too drunk on the feeling of her cunt being filled up to argue again. It was painful, extremely so, even though two different cocks had been inside her overstimulated pussy already and Bucky stretched her out wide, his cock thicker with veins to hit every pleasure point. With her legs tossed around his tapered torso, he slid out until his very tip was left in her, then slammed back in with a small moan. The head of his cock relentlessly pounded into her cervix in a nearly soundless tempo and all Y/N could hear were her own gasps of pleasure, jaw-dropping moans that made drool slide back down her throat in her laid down position.

She turned her head to the side, and though her vision was bleary through the tears, she could see Sam and Steve watching Bucky fuck her while Peter, her boyfriend, her sweet, sweet boyfriend, was caught up fucking his hand to the sound of Bucky’s balls slapping against her ass.

“Fuck, ‘m not gonna last much longer, dollface.” Bucky gasped. “You gonna come soon? You’re gonna come for daddy one more time. I think you’ve got a third one in you, you little fucking slut.”

“Shit, shit, daddy, please ‘m almost there,” Y/N wailed absentmindedly. A thumb came down to circle her clit quickly and she felt the coil in her stomach grow tighter and tighter, until she finally let out a high whine, finding her release as Bucky’s cock pulsed inside of her, ready to come just as easily as her. Her pussy clenched around his cock as she rode out her orgasm, fingers grasping at the sheets in order to find some sort of grounding. His come painted her walls white, and Bucky could’ve sworn there was no better feeling than feeling his blood warm in every vein as he finally let go. With stunted groans, his hips slowed its rhythm, lost in watching how his cock disappear into Y/N’s pussy, her slick juices coating his dick each time he pulled out.

“Ah, fuck, dolly, you did so good for me. Pussy tight as a fuckin’ vice.” Bucky hugged her limp body close to his sweaty chest, letting his dick soften inside of her for a good few moments before pulling out. He tossed Y/N back onto the bed below him, barely even caring to clean the come dripping down her ribcage and out of her cunt before grabbing his boxers from the cabinet next to the bed.

Steve was already buttoning his jeans up, checking the notifications on his phone before shoving it back into his pocket. The blond seemed to have better things to do so soon after, rushing his way to the door before pausing where Y/N laid to watch come drip out of her pussy. One more time he pushed Bucky’s come inside of her abused entrance, watching as it oozed out from behind his digits. “Look at you, fucking full of of his come. Such a goddamn whore,” he muttered under his breath.

Those were the last words he said to her before patting Bucky on the shoulder and leading him out of the opened door.

Maybe Sam was a bit more kind, or affectionate at least. He was already dressed but visibly hard again beneath the thick denim of his pants, and he made sure Y/N knew it, taking her left hand and placing it over his dick. “You still got that effect on me, honey, even when you’re all fucked out like this.” He dragged his fingers through the thick ribbons of come that coated her chest, bringing them up to her mouth so she could taste. Even though she was more than exhausted, she wrapped her tongue around the two fingers that were pushed past her swollen lips, sucking them clean with a tired vengeance. Satisfied with her work, he kissed her chin one more time before leaving without so much as another word, slamming the door shut on his way out.

Click.

It ended exactly the way it started, the lock jostling into the doorknob just as easily as the high of Y/N’s final orgasm slipped away.

Stifling silence suffocated the room around them. Peter refused to meet her eyes, just as much as hers did his. She laid motionless on the bed with him standing at the foot, his dick soft and if she narrowed her bleary eyes just a bit, she could see how his knees were shaking. Neither of them were able to say anything, losing the ability to converse as soon as the three men left the room.

“Peter,” her voice was throaty after the rough fucking she took, “C-can you please get me a drink?”

The brown-haired boy looked down to meet her face, and she could finally see the reason that he had hid it from her. His eyes were red and bloodshot, snot running from his nose with tears running down his cheeks. She’d been so caught up in the after haze of the sex that she didn’t even notice how his bare chest was heaving so deeply, nearing hyperventalation.

But still, he grabbed his boxers, pulling them over his weakened legs clumsily. “Y-yeah, what kind do you want, Mr. Stark has a ton-”

“I don’t care.” She cut him off firmly, a sharp tone in her voice as she rolled over on her side. Y/N tucked her knees to her chin, fingers running over the side of her neck which was marked with bruises and scratches. “I don’t fucking care.”

Without another word Peter slipped out of the room quietly, knowing better than to try to talk to her about what they had been forced to participate in. It wasn’t as if there was much to say anyways.

Rain pattered against the window. It was only six o’clock in the evening. Cars honked and beeped and Natasha’s Igor Stavinsky record played for its fiftieth round of the day, and to anyone else in the tower it was a normal night. Normal, just like the ones spent sitting on the couch with Bucky’s hand creeping up her leg or Sam’s hands groping her ass, but this time they’d made a move.

The silence was far too much to handle, the unspoken truth of what she’d done with Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Peter finally hitting her, knocking the air out of her lungs as she suddenly struggled to breathe. Gripping her face, clawing at it like a goddamn wolf, Y/N began to cry. Silently at first, gradually growing into heartbroken sobs, she let her trodden pride carry her voice wherever it wanted to go.

The men’s whispered words haunted her mere moments after they’d left the room, but most audibly she could hear a faint husk of a voice, Sam’s low moan in her ear looming in the dreadful silence of the room:

Thanks for sharing with us, baby.

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mariproducer · 2 years ago

Text

Venting about s5 bible stuff under the cut it’s gonna be disjointed I just need to let out my thoughts

absolutely no mention of chat blanc in the bible besides it being placed in the special akumatization section... ofc the bible is simply an outline so there’s a chance it could be brought up (e.g. in evolution we had no indication that young! alix was going to be forced to remain in the burrow until monarch was defeated) but i have no clue which episode it could be brought up in. and the fact that the bible has no indication of an identity reveal and the discussion of cb ... kinda needs one to begin with since it involves identities... who fuckin knows

so far there has been a contradiction with the bible where nathalie shit talks gabriel for his stupidity even though the bible says she has her own ulterior motives buttt then again this is mlb king of inconsistency soooo whos to say this mindset will stick (or the bible is to a T with the plot)

also ^ no mention of sentimonster shenanigans which is uh. hm. ok then? on one hand, it makes me feel like all this sentimonster teasing was a fuckin joke or smth, on the other hand this means the sentimonster stuff was likely squeezed in at the last minute if theres no proper mention of adrien OR felix possibly being sentimonsters (or maybe i misread? idk i looked at every instance of felix on the doc and found nothing)

speaking of felix... mostly nothing on him... which is frankly disappointing, as someone who’s always excited to see him on screen. i mean thanks for the confirmation that he’ll transform with the peacock miraculous and make one sentimonster? oh and he has a different last name ... erm ok then... he’s hardly present ANYWHERE on the script and its making me ☹️ bc he was the most interesting character we’ve gotten (Cuz he had motivations and acted out on his own volition) and boom nothing of note...

i don’t wanna hope bc i hate having expectations especially when they’re likely to be let down but grrrr i just want more felix damnit...

worried for the possible chance of ppl ripping into kagami again. the plotlines lined up for her in s5 just reek of “we need to make a character ooc to fit a specific plotline we want” and its just UGHHH kagami doesn’t deserve this! at all! i need to get her out of this show NOW

im sick and tired of andre the ice cream man and im even more sick and tired that most mar!chat episodes have to do with this guy! (and no weredad is NOT any better) like fuck this guy i hope his business goes under

tbh the lila shit and the “adrien never finds out his dad is hawkmoth” shit deserves its own goddamn post because what. the. actual. FUCK.

im still in tears (in a funny yet sad way) that they literally could not feasibly write off luk@nette in canon bc they had to ship luka off to another country for the rest of the season like LMFAO??? but also I HATE YOU?? i knew that they had him learn their identities to screw him over one way or another

the reverse LS stuff is stupid bc why the hell does adrien suddenly develop feelings for marinette like seriously WHERE THE HELL DID IT COME FROM look i get why lb -> cn even if its so hamfisted i could at least see the logic here but ADRIEN -> MARINETTE??? adr!enette HARDLY got any screentime last season and when they did it was the bare minimum and hardly compared to their scenes in prior seasons so like wtf

why the fuck is there a miracle box in antarctica WHO PLACED IT THERE LOL

Ok m done for now let’s talk about positive things bc there are some things I’m looking forward to!

Alya as Scarabella FOR THREE EPISODES! sure the premise of two of those episodes sucks balls but im happy to see scarabella in action again

im actually excited for one episode: Determination! The akumatized villain takes us back to the wax museum but this time it seems like she’ll bring to life wax statues of all the heroes so idk maybe im excited for big fights.

#ml leaks #mlb leaks #ml bible leak

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jiminrings · 4 years ago

Note

petition for stem koo to do all the things for oc he originally said no one does (make her lunchboxes, makes her cheerful...) bc i think that’s a beautiful redemption arc

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

jungkook's day one of his redemption agenda doesn't go that well in the end

"namjoon!!! my man. got any updates for me?"

seokjin strolls coolly on the way to his office, hair slicked back and his dress shirt definitely missing more than a few buttons

what's head admin gonna do??? dress-code him???

fire him???? PLS HE'D BE BETTER OFF!!!!

jin makes student affairs his bitch,,, not the other way around

"for the last time, i am nOt your secretary!!" namjoon stresses as he ceases his typing just to glare at him

he's the university registrar and everyone needs to go through him and at this point he's like a historical landmark from how he's made impact in less than two years

and he and seokjin graduated from the same batch!!!! they're the uncanny always pair for the subjects they shared together

it was definitely weird but functional lol cause one is uptight yet hardworking and the other's relaxed yet smart

sue them for working in the same place they swore they'd never go back to after graduation </3

"if you say-"

"some kid's been waiting for you even before i opened the office. made him sit inside but i just told him that he'd be expelled if he even tries to touch your coffee machine."

namjoon says even before jin could finish the sentence, clearly holding that in until the last minute

jin's obviously a lil annoyed because he's starting work as early as now but the way that joon laid all that out on him is a highlight for him

"thanks. knew you're a secretary for me first and a registrar second."

"no. i'm a national citizen before-"

alright alright he's not listening anymore

this bETTER be important because jin has to hold out his morning routine for whoever this kid is

"what can i possibly do for you today?" he rubs his eyes in preparation, intentionally dragging his steps because just looking at how near he is to his work computer gives him vertigo

"mr. kim!!!"

there is no way

there is no fATHOMABLE way that this has got to be happening to seokjin right now

"..... jungkook. what a pleasure."

he sits on his chair, voice gritted and monotone and he could just feel his eye twitching, his clenched fist under his deck now flipping off the kid in secret

it's a last-minute realization that he grasps that jungkook doesn't know you're his friend and it presents some really unique vantage points

like the time that seokjin recounted about a ridiculous student's filing for theft of his lunchboxes and he turned out to be your crush

or when he used his student affairs capabilities and pulled up resources left and right when jungkook broke your heart then seriously contemplated about messing up his academic record

or that time when he delivered a high and sleepy you to bed and then heard the entire conversation (if you could even call it that) between yoongi and this fucking nerd

"i need your help, mr. kim. you're the closest one to me i could ask!!" jungkook pleads desperately, the big doe eyes not really inducing an effect on him whatsoever lmao

"mhmm. i may not be the person for the job. counseling is right next door."

jin hums without even attempting to get jungkook to elaborate because for all he knows, his services aren't exactly open for people who hurt his friends >:(

(a guy once bumped shoulders with yoongi twice on the same day with aTTITUDE!!! and seokjin just dismissed the dude's concerns when a prof of his, who's a buddy of jin's, suddenly gave him an F)

seokjin IS student affairs

“no, no. you’re the only one who can help me!! you see, i-i just feel this brotherly connection with you and-“

“we talked once.”

god what did you used to see in this kid??

a crybaby aND an easily-attached personality to him? god it’s like jungkook’s just asking jin to pick on him

jungkook doesn’t seem to pick up how jin’s making it obvious he really doesn’t want to be of help if it has something to do with him

he likes interrupting and jin’s just the perfect match to interrupt him even earlier so now they just sound like one of those dubsmash snippets

“MR. KIM!!! how do you make lunchboxes? i don't know how.”

jeez where are his manners :O aren’t nerds like him supposed to worship the ground that admins walk on,,,

but what did pique his attention is the content of what jungkook just said

.... lunchboxes?

jin doesn’t want to give the kid benefit of the doubt because the last time he did that, you got hurt!!!!

if he has to hear hyeji’s name one more time, he’d really waste no time in stripping jungkook’s name from the honor roll

“remember that time i thought someone was stealing my lunchboxes?” he quizzes jin like it’s his job, clueless how he’s poking the bear even more with where he decides to go with this, “yeah. turns out no one was.”

was that not made clear the first time around!!!!!! he knows for a fact that a uni student would trade a classmate for a pack of gum but nO ONE would go for stealing a lunchbox

no one wakes up one day and decides that they’d steal a lunchbox. literally none

“but then this random girl claimed that it was hers a-and well i-...”

kook pauses to gauge jin’s reaction, clearly seeing now the one brow that’s raised at him

oh so if jungkook just asked him how to make a lunchbox, and he called h-word random,,,, then that would mean-

“i may have hurt the original giver of my lunchboxes at the process.”

.... that means he’s asking how to make a lunchbox for you

well that was a pleasant surprise

seokjin snorts briefly at that, dryly chuckling with his eyes widening to stress out his “non-threat” that’s pretty mUCH a threat

“wow. i might just give you a sanction for that.”

does he think jungkook’s a good person? lol he has to think about that for a month

was he wrong for hurting you that way? ultimately yes

but did he think at some point that jungkook’s completely heartless and wouldn’t try to redeem himself to his senior? no, not completely

but is he still on your team, regardless if the kid begs for mercy and you forgive him? yea a hundred percent :D yoongi and seokjin could never be brought out from your circle

"and you're doing this why?"

this is a no-brainer question for jungkook but the question still spooks him, feeling the chills at his neck that responding to seokjin is like a sTEPPING STONE when it comes to you

lmao if only he knew

"i uh, i just really wanna make this right. i messed up completely and it's pretty much unforgivable, but i atleast wanna try and give my best even if she doesn't forgive me, y'know?"

interesting

"mhmm. right, right."

???

he's still mad but he appreciates that jeon's doing the bare minimum of redeeming himself

speaking of, the poor kid looks like he's pissing himself because he may have just embarrassed himself with how long the silence stretches out

maybe,,, just maybe jin's gonna try and be a bridge this time

but like as soon as jungkook lacks for a fourth of a second, seokjin would BURN that bridge faster than a blink

"well first of all, you buy a lunchbox."

RIGHT RIGHT

jungkook grabs a literal pocket notebook and jin pretends he didn't see that because WHO the hell does that!!!!

"of course... okay, proceed!! i'm taking notes," jungkook nods in understanding, jotting down the very important advice of not ordering from online because you can't smell the material through a screen

p.s. smelling containers before you buy them is a VITAL thing to do!! it already tells you about the quality at the first sniff

"are you buying one?"

"buying one for every day of the week. i'm thinking if i should get extras too-

"good idea. i recommend buying eight."

alright seokjin's mentioning some very specific colors and schemes and jungkook's not complaining!!!

MAYBE HE'S ONTO SOMETHING!!!

"what meals should i make? i don't even know what she likes!! and even if i knew what, how would i make it?"

why is his heart racing

yoongi may have taught you how to do your taxes but jin taught you how to cook food that's more than four steps!!!

he taught you how to not flinch at all when you're frying and that's the equivalent of raising you to be the woman that you are now <3

look at him and yoongi being your best friends!! teaching you about taxes and being unnerved at cooking oil and busting out a smoke ring or two <3

in fact, the lunches you've cooked for jungkook are all inspired and derived by seokjin!!!

the fact that jungkook's plan isn't bad and the way everything pieces together with his insight,,,, goosebumps luv

"....hypothetically? what i think she'd like?"

jungkook eagerly nods with stars in his eyes, fingers gripping onto his pen for dear life as he tries to channel all his listening techniques into this lecture

"get a bigger notepad."

wow

"look at you!!" yoongi gushes the moment he sees you, waiting at you from the front door

you're going back to your classes again :D

you don't look as worse as you did four days ago!! you're not as sluggish and as animated too

"please don't," you snort as yoongi doesn't seem to stop looking at you like you've saved the world, giving no fight when he insists on carrying your backpack to your first class of the day

the past four days,, yeah they were undoubtedly rough

you slept as much as you could and for the moments you weren't dejected enough to be awake, you spent it surrounding yourself with seokjin and yoongi as much as possible

that's the beauty of hanging out them!!! you're not required to have a single thought lmao

except for the time when yoongi wondered aloud how eels even live and die (or if they even do???) in the first place and that sent everyone in a spiral and you didn't think of jungkook for a single seconds

you're not intimidated to go back to regular programming or with the fact that it's nOT unlikely you'd see a glimpse of jungkook in the hall and such

but that does mean that even if you're the bigger person, you're still gonna avoid him for as long as you could

speaking of!!!! you're looking for the person now that you're eager to find

"taehyung!!"

there he is :D you'd recognize that fluffy mop of permed hair anywhere

"y/n!!"

tae jumps over chairs in excitement to finally see you again after being so worried for you, engulfing you in a hug immediately

alright you see why yoongi thinks he's a golden retriever

you're clearly not a touchy-feely person but you'd let this one pass,, tae helped you (even indirectly) throughout your downtime anyways

"thank you so much for the cookies. i tried taking smaller bites just because i didn't wanna have them disappear that easy," you confess sheepishly, knowing how you had to pull the i just got my heart broken like two days ago multiple times so the two menaces would stop stealing from your stash

jungkook's excited!!!! seokjin may have given him a tip that "he felt it in his gut" that you were gonna go to class today

he came a little late because he wanted to perfect the very loaded lunchbox that's in his backpack right now

oh weird

you're not in your usual chair

bUT jungkook sees a glimpse of your hair and he's certain that you're there and his heart may be beating out of his ribcage

a baby peach lunchbox with a sticker (of what seokjin said he thought you'd like) on the middle of the lid :D

pork katsudon with furikake rice aND coffee jelly pudding on the side!!! it was definitely pressure-racking to strictly adhere to jin's recipe but god does it look worth it

jungkook's only did miniature taste tests on it and he had to stop himself from devouring the lunch that he's made specifically for you

the lunchbox itself is tied neatly with a silk wrap, adding his touch of sewing your name visibly on it aND there's a scribble taped to the lid too

god jungkook really can't wait to make it up to you

sheesh that was one of THEE longest lectures you've ever felt you had

it was actually the same amount of time it's always been but maybe you've been out of practice from just staying at your dorm for days

tae's great company but he could be a little bit chatty!!! you just nod when you feel his voice go up and he apparently gets excited by that easily

.... he apparently also has a small bladder and he told you that within the whole hour of class

"hold on. i gotta pee before next period. go without me!!!' taehyung hurriedly slings his backpack to his arm, looking ridiculous in a rush

tae's sometimes unintentionally funny because you don't even share next period anyways

you're on your way to the exit when a shiny scarf catches the corner of your eye, having to squint at it because wow does it look pretty

is that-

is that your nAME???

you pick it up before you could even rationalize it, realizing then what it was wrapping when you feel the warmth on your hands

:")

"sorry i forgot my headband!!!"

taehyung stumbles back into the room, catching his breath to run back to his seat and fetch the headband he took from his hair to play with awhile ago

he looks shocked to see what's on your hands, flicking his gaze between you and the item but he doesn't think much of it

wOW that's a really shiny scarf!!!

"tae?"

"hmm yeah? what's up?"

he's about to jog back to the comfort room because he hasn't really relieved himself yet, not bearing to leave his headband in the room when anyone could snatch it up

you raise your lunchbox, a thankful gaze on your eyes that looks so close to crying which is why tae's mORE than lost now

"thanks for the lunch."

.....

jungkook could only helplessly watch.

#EEEEEEEEK :D I HAVE A REQUEST QUEUED UP NEXT BUT WHAT DO YOU WANNA SEE IN THE NEXT PARTS #stem koo #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook au #jungkook drabble #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook angst #college jungkook au

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realcube · 4 years ago

Text

hq!! boys with a short s/o

navi | masterlist | taglist

thanks to anon for this cute request

characters: kenma, noya, bokuto, & oikawa

trigger warning: swearing, sexual references,

kenma kuzome

♡ bc you’re smol you can slip into his lap while he plays on his switch and since he can just peer over your shoulder, he lets you

♡ also bc you are so - in his own words - compact..he kinda goes a bit rough on you bc he doesn’t know his own strength sometimes

♡ like he comes back from practise - having just bet up lev who’s like double his height, then pretends as though he’s the gentlest, most cuddly guy alive

♡ for instance, if you sit on his lap while he’s doing something important, he’ll push you off but bc he is quite strong and you’re quite small, you literally go flying across the room

♡ he also like the fact that he can place his chin on top of your head while hunched over

♡ bc his posture is horrible which means that most ppl are up to his nose when he’s standing comfortably (and by comfortably i mean when his back is lookin like the letter c)

♡ but not you though bb

♡ he can rest his chin on your head WHILE messing up his back so thanks 💞

♡ also this is kinda unrelated but he probably enjoys seeing you cosplay as some of his favourite characters that are around your height

♡ idk he just seems like that sorta guy lol

♡ probably likes it when y’all get dirty in cosplay too yk

♡ and he constantly compares you to anime characters/ video game characters then makes comments accordingly lol

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

upon feeling kenma’s eyes momentarily shift from his nintendo switch onto you, your immediate response was to meet his gaze, shooting him a brief smile which quickly fell into frown upon hearing his following statement, “you’re around the same height as meliodas from seven deadly sins.”

you blinked rapidly, about to shrug him off and go back to whatever you were doing under you heard a “disgusting.” slip from his lips..so pounced on him.

“KENMA! YOU CAN’T JUST CALL ME DISGUSTING BECAUSE I’M A SIMILAR HEIGHT TO AN ANIME CHARACTER YOU DON’T LIKE! DON’T YOU HAVE AN--” to which kenma will just laugh and pretend like he’s trying to pry you off him when he’s actually really enjoying the feeling of you on top of him.

yū nishinoya

♡ he is the short king™

♡ so he’s honestly so happy that not only does he get to be in the presence of his soulmate, but you’re also shorter than him 😍

♡ and i think having a shorter s/o would really help him with his body image

♡ sorry to get serious on y’all so quick but i kinda think noya is secretly VERY insecure

♡ he just has a ‘fake it till you make it’ sort of attitude in regards to his confidence

♡ but having a shorter s/o - especially if you’re really powerful, strong, confident or outspoken - would really give him an ego boost bc not only is he like ‘yep! that’s my star!’ but also everything you do is just so impressive to him

♡ also since you’re around the same height as him, sometimes he forgets that he can’t just jump on you and expect for you to hold his weight like he does with asahi, tanaka, tsukishima etc

♡ so now you’re always on hyperalert when you pick him up from practise just in case he tackles you to the ground again

♡ it’s happened multiple times even when you were paying close attention though so i’d suggest just wearing a helmet next itme

♡ YJUHGFF he’s definitely the sort of guy to hype you up to his friends after you do the bare minimum

♡ and he ALWAYS mentions your height unless you tell him to stop

♡ (he just wants his friends to know that just bc they are vertically gifted, they are no better than you or him >:(( keep em humble, yk? )

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

“yep! they’re getting their photo taken at this professional modelling company thingy with all those cool, chunky camera and the bright lights! they’re basically a model- and a few inches smaller than me so, perhaps short is the new sexy.” noya boasted with a casual shrug, feeding off of the amazing looks he was getting from hinata, tanaka and yamaguchi.

upon noticing that yamaguchi was falling for nishinoya’s exaggerations, tsukishima chimed in, “short is definitely not the new sexy.” and before nishinoya could retort, tsukki hummed, “anyway, model, huh? what brand are they modelling for?”

noya’s lips curled into a bright smile and he clicked his tongue, almost to say ‘glad you asked’, before declaring proudly, “their passport!”

kōtarō bokuto

♡ another one that doesn’t know his own strength

♡ especially around you

♡ like he squeezes you SO tight when hugging that you basically suffocate

♡ and his grip on your hand is always unreasonably strong too so never let him hold your dominant hand or else you won’t be able to hold a pencil for another week

♡ and sometimes he pinches your cheek when he thinks you look especially babey and jesus christ he could leave a bruise

♡ god forbid you’re watching him practise and he makes a killer spike then he turns to look at you with starry eyes--

♡ ...

♡ RUN 🏃‍♂️💨

♡ mans will chase you around the whole gym to pick you up and twirl you to celebrate his spike

♡ the problem occurs when he holds you so close to him that you suffocate from his reek of BO

♡ he spins so fast that it makes you feel extremely sick and dizzy

♡ ALSO let’s not forget that one time he accidently let go of you a few seconds to early and you went fucking flying across the gym and landed on onaga’s water bottle

♡ not only did you have to awkwardly hobble to the bathroom with soaking wet leggings so you could change into your spare pair, you also felt obliged to buy onaga a new water bottle

♡ if you tell him to be gentler plz do it nicely or else he will be sad :((

♡ yeah he treats you like you’re his 7″0, ripped, basketball player s/o but you’re not

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

why were you here? why did you think this was a good idea to say yes to? oh, yeah, it because he gave those adorable damn puppy eyes that you are physically incapable of saying no to. on the bright side, perhaps he can use those puppy eyes to get you a free hearse driver for your funeral - which was sure to be soon.

through, your funeral planning was cut sort by bokuto chirping, “are you ready, babe?!”

you sighed, arms outstretched as he stood with his back facing you, ready to trust fall onto you once you gave the ‘ok’. or so you thought.

“yeah, bo. go o--” you couldn’t even finish your sentence before you felt bokuto’s muscular back suddenly weigh down on your arm. you tried to hold him up, - you really did - but both the surprise of it and his weight was enough to make you come crashing down with him.

“(y/n)! you had one job!”

tōru oikawa

♡ you’re his baby

♡ or at least, he treats you like one sometimes

♡ he says he treats you like a prince(ss) but everyone knows that he acts like you’re his first born child

♡ bc he literally carries you everywhere

♡ taking a brisk stroll on the beach? oikawa will force you to get on his back and use the excuse that he doesn’t want your clothes to get dirty

♡ you’re in the mall and you even suggest that your feet are sore/ you’re tired? he’ll carry you bridal style anywhere you want to go - literally does not care if people are giving him weird looks

♡ drunk? he’ll throw you over his shoulder and carry you home

♡ just chilling on the couch? he’ll approach you, scoop you up into his arms and walk around the house

♡ it annoys you sometimes but it can really come in handy other times

♡ like for instance, at a festival

♡ if you both get stuck at the back and you’re struggling to see the stage bc of all the literal giants looming in front of you, he’ll let you hop on his shoulders 🥺

♡ he probably teases you for it though lol

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

“awh, can the small one not see the stage?”

you furrowed your brows, outstretching your arms to him - probably the first time you ever actually asked him to pick you up, so you prayed that he'd take you up on your first offer without you having to beg. “yeah, can you help?”

this oikawa you’re talking to; the petty king. so instead, he gave you some solemn advice before turning his attention back onto the performance, “try growing a few inches-- who am i kidding? a few feet.”

“rude.” you spat, fretfully looking around for a moment before coming to terms with the fact you’re not going to be able to see the performer, so you decided to just try vibe with the music instead.

“(y/n).” you heard oikawa call from beside you, so you turn your head to look at him then noticed that he was crouched on the ground, “what are you waiting for? get on.”

501 notes · View notes

ncssian · 4 years ago

Text

A Favor: Part Seventeen

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: 70% of this fic is written on my phone lying on my side in bed while using swipe typing bc im too lazy to type out words and it shows

TW: discussion of SA

***

Nesta has an easier time adjusting to a third person in the cabin than she thought she would. Maybe it’s because Azriel indeed minds his business, and half the time Nesta isn’t aware he’s there at all.

Cassian seems to be more irritated by it than anyone else—not his brother, of course, but the fact that he and Nesta no longer exist in their own little bubble. Which is how he ends up at Nesta’s apartment with an overnight bag, sprawled out stomach-down on her mattress while she gets ready for bed.

“TV show or movie?” he asks, clicking through her laptop. Shows are Nesta’s thing and movies are Cassian’s; she feels generous enough tonight to say, “Movie.”

“Thank god,” he mutters, typing something on the laptop. “There’s a Turkish horror flick that I was saving for you.”

“Where do you even find these films?” Grabbing her hairbrush, she flops onto the bed beside him and starts brushing out her brassy locks. Before he can answer, Nesta’s phone buzzes from the stool she uses as a bedside table. Feyre’s name flashes on the screen.

Nesta frowns, but picks up without a second thought. “What is it?”

“Nothing serious,” her sister replies. “Just checking in.”

Before Cassian, Nesta didn’t very much understand the purpose of “checking in” without reason. Now she empathizes with Feyre a little. “I’m fine,” she says.

Deciding she can do better than that, she adds, “Cassian and I are about to start a movie.”

“Is it his choice? I’m so sorry for you.”

Nesta peeks over to where Cassian is still intently searching for his obscure movie and smiles a little. “I like Turkish horror,” she replies.

Cassian overhears and grins approvingly.

“Well, I’m looking at wedding dresses with Rhys so he can prepare for when he inevitably proposes,” Feyre says. “In case you wanted to know.”

Nesta did not particularly want to know, but she doesn’t say this. “Sounds fun. Is that it?”

“For what?”

“This conversation.”

Feyre sighs over the line. “Yes, I’ll let you go now. Thanks for picking up.”

The bar is in hell, Nesta thinks. Mostly because she put it there, but she still feels embarrassed to be congratulated over such small things. “Thanks for keeping it short.”

She’s about to hang up when she hears a male voice speak up in the background, and Feyre interrupts, “Wait—before you go, can you tell Cassian to call Rhys back? He wants Cass’s help picking a new team leader for the Italy project.”

Nesta has no idea what that is, but she says, “Sure, fine.” They say their goodbyes and hang up.

“What’d she want?” Cassian says without looking over at her.

“She said Rhys wants you to call him about the Italy project.”

Cassian turns toward her, half sitting up. “Really? What for?”

“Something about picking a team leader.” She returns to brushing her hair. “Why? What’s the Italy project?”

“Something I thought we put aside for good,” he grumbles. “It’s a year-long overseas project in Milan. Rhys thinks it’s gonna bring in a shit ton of money.”

“Sounds big. What do you have to do with it, though?” She’s never heard of Cassian being involved in Night Court’s international operations, even though he takes on more work than the usual employee.

Cassian shrugs, going back to movie searching. “He wanted me to be the one leading the team, and I guess he still feels petty about me turning him down. Honestly, choosing team leaders outside of my department isn’t even part of my jurisdiction.”

Nesta hesitates. “He offered you the job? When?” She didn’t know this.

“On New Year’s.”

“And you turned it down?”

“Yeah.” Cassian clicks on a link that looks like it’ll plant fifteen different viruses in Nesta’s laptop. “Found the movie,” he says.

“Why would you do that?” Nesta demands.

“The movie?”

“The job offer! Why would you turn down such a big opportunity without even telling me?”

Cassian laughs in confusion. “Are you angry right now?”

She’s astonished at his nonchalance. “Cassian,” she says. “It’s Italy.”

Italy with the art and history and seaside beauty—it’s on their top five places to see before they die.

“It’s Milan,” he says like there’s a difference, “and it’s an entire year away from you.” He shakes his head, sitting up to face her. “Are you out of your mind?”

She goes still. “Don’t tell me you said no because of me.”

“Of course I said no because of you.”

“It’s your dream job!” she bursts. “Traveling, exploring, being on your own—”

“Those are our dreams. I made those plans with you. The hell am I supposed to do all the way in Italy without you?”

“You sound codependent,” she retorts.

He narrows his brows. “Like you wouldn’t do the same thing in my position?”

He’s right, of course. Nesta would do the exact same thing for him. But Nesta and Cassian are not the same, and they both know it. “You can’t make that comparison,” she sighs.

“Why not?” he demands.

“Because—” She struggles to put it into words. “I would give up a long distance job for you because it would be worth it. You’re worth it. It doesn’t work the other way around.”

“Again: why the fuck not?”

So he’s really going to make her spell it out. “Because you’re a good boyfriend. You’re affectionate and caring, you always go the extra mile for those you love, and you come with all these free perks. It’s a great deal. And I’m not anything terrible, but I’m the bare minimum compared to you. Why would you give up Italy for the bare minimum?”

Cassian looks at her in disbelief. “I don’t even know how you can say so many wrong things in a row.”

“He’s blinded by love,” Nesta mutters to herself.

“First of all,” he holds up a finger, “I don’t know where you learned to compare yourself to me, but I don’t like it. You make it sound like I need to be paid back for every half-decent thing I do, and that is not the case at all.”

“Of course you think that,” she says. “You wouldn’t be a good person if you didn’t.”

“Then let me be a blunt person.” He puts a hand on her knee and looks her in the eye. “You will never be like me. Very few people are; you can’t take it personally.”

“Oh my god.” Her eyes might roll out of her head.

“But you’re not the bare minimum. Not even close.” He states it like an undeniable fact.

“How so?” she challenges.

“Like how Elain told me about this boy who broke her heart in her high school, and how the next day he walked into class in a leg cast. And how she just knew you had something to do with it, and you two had a huge fight about it that lasted a week.”

Nesta does not enjoy that memory being brought up. Elain called her a psychopath for the incident, and to save her feelings, Nesta (rather unconvincingly) said it had been an accident.

“I didn’t push anybody into a creek,” she maintains the lie. “Sometimes people just fall down there.”

“To be fair, you’re a lot more stable now than you were then. Now when people hurt those you care about, you find sneakier ways to hurt them back. Don’t you?”

“I do not,” Nesta defends.

“Really? Because Eris texted me earlier saying you’ve been ignoring him since New Year’s, and he’s starting to get worried that you have something heinous planned for him. I asked him why he would ever think such a thing of you.” Cassian leans forward and rests his chin on her shoulder. “Why would he think such a thing of you, Nesta?”

Cassian looks pretty well off from here, doesn’t he? She remembers Eris’s smug face. Did you know Rhysand’s parents found him sleeping in the streets?

“Because he said a bad thing,” Nesta says, looking down at her fingernails. “And I have an unfortunate reputation at school for getting back at people who say bad things.” Like the time Brian O’Connell made jokes about a rape trial the class was studying, and then couldn’t find an internship at a single firm the following summer.

“And what did he say? Because I can’t imagine he would directly insult you. He actually likes you, ass that he is.” His face is warm so close to her neck.

She looks away. “I won’t repeat it.”

That seems to be all Cassian needs to get an idea of what Eris said. “And how long are you planning on holding it against him?”

“Forever.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Nesta meets the eyes that haven’t left her face this entire time and snorts. “What’s your point?” Seriously, she’s starting to redden at how close he is.

He buries his face in her neck, his stubble rasping against the sensitive skin there. “The point is that you also do a lot for the people you love. Just in a different way.” He pulls away to look her in the eye. “Don’t do anything to Eris, though,” he says. “Not that I care for him or his shit opinions, but whatever you have planned isn’t worth it.”

Nesta wants to scoff in disbelief at the sincerity on Cassian’s face. He’s always choosing kindness, even at the worst moments. “So that’s your argument?” she says. “You won’t go to Italy because your girlfriend has a bad temper and a taste for revenge?”

“That’s my final argument, Your Honor.” He takes her hand. “Forget Milan, will you? One day I’ll take you to Portofino.”

The longer Nesta knows Cassian, the more she finds it useless to hide from him. Which is why she lets him watch the thoughts flit across her face as she considers his words, deciding whether she believes him. Deciding whether he’s right to give her so much devotion.

“Fine,” she finally says. “You’re right.”

A slow smile spreads across his face as he realizes he won. Wrapping his arms around Nesta’s waist and legs, he hauls her into his lap and shifts around until they’re both comfortable. The movie is forgotten for now.

“Out of curiosity…” He noses at the nape of her neck. “What did Eris say about me to make you so angry?”

When Nesta doesn’t answer, he says, “I’ve already heard everything that could possibly be said. The shit that used to get me when I was eighteen doesn’t have the same hold on me a decade later.”

She lets herself relax into his hold. “It was about the time you spent as an orphan.” Technically, he’s still an orphan, but it was different back then. “I didn’t like the tone of his voice.”

Cassian’s answering hum is a low rumble against her shirt. “Did you know my biological father was from Italy?”

Nesta perks up at that. “No.” She assumed he was entirely Algerian, even though he and Azriel probably look ethnically ambiguous to most. “Isn’t that all the more reason to see Italy someday?”

“Not at all,” he says. “If I could pretend that half of me didn’t exist, I would.”

She can’t think of a response that doesn’t involve a question, so she doesn’t reply. She waits for Cassian to speak on his own terms.

“I went to Italy once,” he admits. “For less than a day while my brothers were partying in Monte Carlo. I was young and stupid, and thought I would never be complete if I didn’t know who my father was.”

“Who was he?” She doesn’t know why she’s whispering.

“No one worth remembering,” Cassian says, his arms unconsciously tightening around her. “I put some dots together and realized how he and my mother must have met, how he must’ve—forced himself on her, and I decided that I didn’t care about bloodlines at all. I never returned to Italy after that.”

Nesta’s hands want to reach out and touch him, soothe him. But her muscles are suddenly very cold, and she can only stiffen. “And what about now? Do you… not want to go back?”

“It’s just a place to me,” he says. “Nothing special, nothing terrible. But I like the way it sounds when you talk about it.” His eyes sparkle. “I’d like to pretend it’s my first time going with you.”

“Alright, then.” She nods. “One day, we’ll go together. It’ll be our first time.”

***

Cassian refuses to let Nesta leave bed the next morning, dragging his heavy mouth across her body whenever she tries to get up. She’s about to surrender to him altogether when her phone starts vibrating loudly, insistently.

Breaking away from Cassian’s attempt at cuddling, she answers without checking the caller ID. “Yes?” she croaks sleepily.

“Where the hell have you been?” Emerie demands.

Nesta shoves Cassian away despite his protests, untangling her legs from the sheets. “At home,” she says, getting out of bed and heading for the bathroom. “Am I supposed to be somewhere else?”

“We haven’t seen you in two weeks,” Emerie says. “Gwyn thought your boyfriend’s weird family killed you.”

“That’s not what happened,” Nesta assures, pulling her shorts down and sitting on the toilet. “I just needed some alone time.” People are all around her these days, it seems. Her body still can’t quite adjust to it.

“Well, have you had enough—are you peeing?”

“Yeah.” She wipes and flushes the toilet.

“Well, clear your day and kick your sorry boyfriend out of your place. I can’t remember the last time I went out.”

“Why does everybody always want to go out?” Nesta says as she washes her hands. “What’s wrong with staying in, being safe, never leaving the house?” She dries her hands on a towel and returns to the bedroom, where Cassian is now sitting up and checking his emails.

“You’re preaching to the choir, but this actually wasn’t my idea,” Emerie says.

Nesta and Cassian alert at the sound of a knock from the front door. Nesta never has uninvited guests.

“Hold on a second, Em,” she says, jogging up the short set of steps to the door. She opens it to the sight of an exasperated-looking Gwyn.

“Jeez, next time send a text that you’re alive, will you?” Gwyn says, shoving past Nesta to enter the apartment. “Do you know how worried I’ve been—” She halts midsentence, one foot hovering above a step as she realizes that Nesta isn’t alone. As she sees Cassian in her bed, bare-chested and highly amused.

“Hey.” He raises a hand in greeting.

Gwyn pales.

“Hello?” Emerie calls over the line.

“You girls both share the same brain,” Nesta sighs. “Let me call you back, Emerie.”

Gwyn whirls around just as Nesta hangs up. “That won’t be necessary,” she says quickly, looking embarrassed. “I’ll be outside. I’m sorry.”

She hurries out of the apartment even faster than she came in, ducking her head to hide her face.

Nesta tosses her arms up in the air. “Great,” she says to Cassian. “Your abs scared her away.”

“But I didn’t do anything—”

She shuts the door behind her as she follows Gwyn outside, barefoot and all. She barely notices the freezing cold air or the awful press of damp grass beneath her feet as she catches up to Gwyn and grabs her elbow. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Gwyn jerks suddenly, yanking out of Nesta’s hold. Her breathing seems a little shallow, and she looks even more embarrassed for it. “It’s nothing. I just didn’t know you had someone over.”

“Cassian? He’s cool, you don’t need to be weird about him,” she tries to reassure Gwyn. “Though I did use to tell him that not everybody wants to see him shirtless all the time.”

“It’s not that,” Gwyn says, waving her off.

Nesta gestures to the apartment. “Do you want to come back inside, then? I’m sure he has clothes on by now.”

Gwyn clears her throat uncomfortably and looks down. “I’d rather not. I’m—I don’t like being around men.”

Nesta pauses, not sure if she heard right. “Like, in a ‘check the backseat of your car before getting in’ way, or…?”

“No, like I can’t be alone in a room with a man without feeling sick. It activates my fight or flight, it’s weird.” She’s carefully stiff, like she’s ready to be met with humiliation.

Nesta remembers that Gwyn has never told her about her therapy sessions before, but she knows they’re more intensive than her own weekly conversations with Lana.

“Not that I think your boyfriend is a bad person,” Gwyn adds when Nesta doesn’t respond. “He looks really nice. He sounds nice, too.”

But Nesta doesn’t care about any of that. Unsure of what to do next, she reaches out and awkwardly pats Gwyn on the arm. “Good thing you’ve never been to the cabin, then. Cassian’s brother is staying…” She trails off when she realizes none of this is relevant. “Why are you here so early?” she asks instead.

Gwyn eases up a little at the change in subject. “I missed you. We’ve barely talked since Christmas.”

Nesta didn’t realize people would take such notice to her absence. “Yeah.” She flushes. “I do that sometimes. I’ll send a message next time I go into hibernation, though.”

“You’re freezing,” Gwyn suddenly scolds, noticing how Nesta’s goosebumped arms are wrapped tightly around herself. She unzips her red hoodie and shrugs it off. “Go back inside and get dressed.” She flings the hoodie around Nesta’s shoulders before Nesta can protest. “Meet me at my car. We’re hanging out.”

Nesta knows that a last minute change of events is not the end of the world, even if it sometimes feels like it. For Gwyn and Emerie, she can bear the discomfort of unexpected plans, same as she does for Cassian. But she at least has to know: “How long will we be out?”

“You can come home after lunch.” At Nesta’s face, Gwyn adds, “Lunch will be at two and shouldn’t take more than an hour.”

Looking her friend up and down, someone who has such an easy time understanding her, Nesta nods in satisfaction. She turns around to go back inside.

***

They end up at the library where Gwyn works, in the stacks of the long-abandoned encyclopedia section.

Emerie takes a loud sip from the huge McDonald’s soda she snuck in. “So all this show was because Gwyn didn’t want to work her shift alone?”

“I just have some last minute cleanup to do,” she hisses for the third time, shoving an old book back where it belongs. “Go to the porn section if you’re so bored here.”

“Oh, I definitely will,” Emerie says. “But I’m glad that we’re congregating now, even if it’s in the most depressing part of the library. I have a present for you girls.” She hands Nesta her drink so she can dig around in her purse.

Nesta personally has no complaints. The library is quiet, it smells of paper and old ink, and it holds all her favorite books. It’s almost better than staying in.

Emerie successfully pulls out a handful of folded and wrinkled papers from her bag, smoothing them out as best she can. “One for each of us,” she says, passing the papers around.

Nesta takes her paper and stares at the header. Gwyn is the first to speak. “Pole dancing classes?”

“Why?” Nesta says.

“Well, I originally offered them to Justinian and Isaac but they said no—”

“It’s really not for me,” Gwyn interrupts, trying to pass the registration form back to Emerie. “Sorry.”

Nesta doesn’t give her form back.

“Look,” Emerie says. “I get the hesitation. We’re a handful of boring bitches who hate having fun. But don’t you think that has to change at some point?”

“I’ve known you guys a month,” Gwyn retorts. “We’ve only been boring bitches for a month. This is too much.” She turns to Nesta for help.

Nesta is still staring at the paper. Dancing—on a pole, yes, but it’s still dancing. “I’ll do it,” she says.

Gwyn looks betrayed and Emerie looks elated. “Really?” She hops up and down. “That’s two against one, Gwyn. You have to do it, too.”

Gwyn’s cheeks are turning red in frustration. “You can’t just force this on me—”

“Gwyneth,” a sharp voice interrupts their conversation. Nesta spins around to find a young woman with dark skin and bleached white curls heading in their direction, a stack of books in her arms.

She halts before Nesta and glares. “No food or drink in the library.” She looks pointedly at the 32-ounce in her hand.

“It’s not mine.” Nesta shoves the drink back to Emerie.

But the librarian has turned to Gwyn, who hides the dance class form behind her back. “And what are you doing here?” she demands.

“Just putting up a few books, Merrill,” Gwyn answers quickly.

“While socializing?” the woman named Merrill sneers.

“We were just asking for help finding the romance section. Is that a problem?” Emerie crosses her arms and steps forward, letting a little of her beautiful deadliness slip into her stance. It’s the deadliness of someone at the top of her law class, someone who will graduate in a few months with all the power she could want in the palm of her hand. Nesta gets a rush from playing the lawyer game, too, but she’s never had the kind of ambition that Emerie has. Emerie is a shark sitting around in a small pond.

Merrill is not impressed. She snatches the styrofoam cup dangling from Emerie’s hand and tosses it in the nearby trash can. She turns back to Gwyn. “Hand your badge over and clock out.”

“But I’m not done yet—”

“Now.”

“Okay,” she squeaks. She pulls her ID badge off her neck and hands it to Merrill.

Nesta gapes in disbelief. Before she can speak up, Merrill says, “No loitering in the library. If you don’t have anything you need to check out, leave.” With one final judgmental look, she turns down an aisle of dusty books and disappears.

Gwyn makes a face at her back.

“That woman is not old enough to be acting that misanthropic,” Emerie says after Merrill is gone.

“Whatever,” Gwyn mutters. The registration form is still in her hand. She crumples it into a ball and throws it into the trash. “Let’s get out of here.”

Nesta stares at the trash as Gwyn turns to leave. “Coward,” she says.

Gwyn’s head snaps toward Nesta, her auburn hair swinging. “Excuse me?”

She shrugs. “You heard me.” Emerie’s eyes bounce back and forth between the girls.

“I did,” Gwyn says. “I was just making sure this wasn’t coming from the woman who would sooner bite someone’s head off than do something she doesn’t want to.”

“Girls,” Emerie snaps before Nesta can bite back. “It’s just a stupid dance class. I thought it would be fun to do together, but it doesn’t matter anymore.” Taking Gwyn by one arm and Nesta by the other, she starts steering them out of the stacks like a stern mother. “Now let’s go eat. I’m fucking hungry.”

Gwyn’s mood from the library doesn’t recover, even as they sit down for lunch at the local diner. Nesta thinks Gwyn might actually be sick when the male waiter winks at her while taking her order, and it’s not until long after he’s gone that color returns to her face. When their food arrives, Gwyn only picks at her plate.

“What’s wrong?” Nesta finally has to ask bluntly. “You look pukey.” Did the coward comment affect Gwyn more than she let on, or was it Merrill’s attitude that threw her off?

At Nesta’s words, Gwyn becomes even more pallid. “I just don’t feel great today,” she murmurs, looking around like she’s seeking a way out of the diner. “Sorry guys, I didn’t mean to be such a buzzkill. Maybe I should go home early.”

“Absolutely not,” Emerie says. “If you’re going home, we’re going home with you.”

Gwyn bites her lip, trying to decide if she wants that or not. But something about her antsy demeanor is too familiar to Nesta, because she says, “If you really want to be alone, do you mind driving me home first? Emerie’s car is a mess.”

“You just need to move around a few papers,” Emerie protests.

But Gwyn nods distractedly, already gathering her things. “Sure, no problem.” They pay the bill and go their separate ways.

During the ride home, the sky that’s been gray all day finally breaks open, unleashing a spattering of rain over the town. Nesta watches it sprinkle while Gwyn drives in silence.

“Why are you scared of Merrill?” she eventually asks. “She doesn’t look much older than you.”

Gwyn snorts, but there isn’t much heart to it. “Merrill is my superior, but I can handle her on most days.”

“Just not today?”

Gwyn eyes Nesta warily from the corner of her eye. “No, not today. Or this week.”

Nesta chooses not to push. The dull metal of the cars surrounding them glints under the rain, and they arrive at a red light.

After a minute, she takes a breath and blurts, “I’m not always like that around guys, you know.”

Nesta watches her closely, remembering how ghostly she seemed around Cassian, then the waiter. “Keep going.”

Gwyn stares straight at the traffic ahead, her fingers turning bone white on the steering wheel. “I’m just going through a hard period. Everything upsets me and I don’t know how to think straight. It’s like my brain accidentally traveled to the past and now it’s stuck there.” She sounds shaky, breathless, and it makes Nesta wonder what exactly her mind is experiencing.

Nesta knows what it’s like to be unable to move on. Her own brain has only recently started looking toward the future. “Where are you stuck, specifically?” she asks hesitantly. Maybe she can help Gwyn navigate her way out.

Gwyn’s chin quivers. “In a dark room.” Her lips form a tight line. “Being held down. I’m outnumbered.”

Nesta’s stomach turns. “How far back is it?”

“Two years,” Gwyn whispers. “Lately I can’t even look at anything without—remembering it. Thinking about it. Every time I feel like I’m moving past it, I end up being wrong.”

The light turns green, and Nesta puts a hand on Gwyn’s knee in an attempt to ground her. “Drive,” she commands softly.

Gwyn presses down on the accelerator, but Nesta can feel her leg trembling beneath her hand. She squeezes her knee hard. Even with the dark parts of her own past, Nesta has never felt what Gwyn is feeling right now. So she tries to stick to what she knows.

“It’s like you said,” she says carefully. “You’re going through a period where your brain isn’t being friendly to you. It’s horrible, but you can live with the knowledge that it’ll be over eventually.”

Gwyn shakes her head, holding back tears. “It doesn’t work like that. Once it goes away, it’ll just come back again. And it’ll be like that for the rest of my life.”

“You’re right.” Nesta doesn’t have a solution for that, and she hates it. “You’ll never forget. You can be at the peak of your life and still remember all of it. But,” she says slowly, “whether you reach a point where it barely fazes you, or if you keep crippling under the weight of it decades later, you’ll still be normal. You’ll be a perfectly normal human.”

Gwyn lets out a tearful laugh at that. “What does that even mean?”

Shit. “It means…” Nesta tries to explain herself better. “In case you’re worried that there’s something very wrong with you, I’m here telling you that there’s not. There will never be anything wrong with you.”

Gwyn eyes her skeptically as they turn onto a residential road. “Even if I never get past one nightmare I lived years ago? Even if that nightmare defines me until the day I die?”

“That won’t happen.” Nesta’s tone is simple, factual. “But yes, even then.”

“Really? You’re not gonna tell me to live for the better days or whatever?”

“Does that sound like something that would help you? Because I can say it if it does.”

Gwyn snorts. “No.” But her limbs are steady and her eyes are clear on the road. She clears her throat. “Thank you for listening. I think I might feel a little better now.”

“Was it because of what I said?” Nesta tries not to be too hopeful.

“I wouldn’t give you that much credit,” Gwyn says, crushing her hope. “But I’m glad I told you. It makes things…a lot easier for me.” She exhales deeply.

“You know my plate is mostly empty these days.” Nesta pats her knee. “That means I’ll always have room to help carry your shit.”

They pull up to Nesta’s apartment, and Gwyn parks at the curb. “Give me your dance class thing,” she says suddenly.

Frowning, Nesta pulls the wrinkled paper out of her purse and hands it to Gwyn.

Gwyn smooths it out on the steering wheel and grabs a pen from a cupholder, clicking it. “If you’re going to help carry my shit, I guess I have time for pole dancing now.”

“But that’s mine,” Nesta protests as Gwyn starts filling out the form.

“It can be both of ours,” she says, writing Nesta’s name under hers.

“Really?” Nesta grins with an excitement that she doesn’t easily feel. “You’re going to do it with us?”

“Why would I let you do it without me? So I can become the third wheel in our girl group?” She gives Nesta a look that says No way in hell.

Nesta rolls her eyes. “That would never happen to you.”

“Sure,” Gwyn drawls. She finishes the form and folds it in half before pocketing it. “I’ll give this to Emerie as a gift.” She leans over to peck Nesta on the cheek. “Now get home. Love you.”

Nesta turns red at the words and coughs. “Thanks for the ride,” she responds, getting out of the car.

“Say it back!” Gwyn calls after her. But Nesta shuts the door in her face and waves, pretending she can’t hear her. Gwyn mock-scowls at her through the window, but lets her off easy and drives away.

That’s enough feelings for today, Nesta decides. Even if her chest is swelling with emotion for her friend. It’s a sweet hurt that lingers long after she returns to her empty apartment.

***

a/n: i’m back in my no plot, just vibes era

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#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #ncssianwrites #a favor #nessian fic #nessian au

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