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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

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A Year Gone By | dark!Bucky Barnes x reader

happy birthday @nsfwsebbie��!!

it was supposed to be a surprise but then I couldn’t stop myself from telling you I was writing something, I managed to keep most of it under wraps though! I hope the suspense pays off.

idk if it’s weird that i made it a doctor reader when you’re not a doctor but listen...half the fun of reader insert is getting to vicariously live through a cool career right?? the other half of the fun is the obvious thing. and it seemed a little creepy if i made the reader exactly like you but if you want it to be more accurate i will totally write you something with actual you in it lol

ANYWAYS I hope you enjoy it and most of all I hope you have a lovely, relaxing, fun birthday. and i hope it makes you h word lmao. ily darling <3

warnings: noncon, dubcon, stalking/kidnapping, ddlg, loss of virginity, bondage, oral sex (m and f receiving), anal sex, d/s, pet play, degradation, painful sex/pain kink, cockwarming, breeding, somnophilia (slightly), spitting, pregnancy mention, breeding kink, mention of drugging... I think that’s everything.

word count: just over 15.5k (YIIIIKES my bad)

Bucky always looked forward to appointments with you. It wasn’t just because he had a crush on you, honest; you really were the best doctor he ever had. Then again, between chain-smoking Brooklyn doctors who handed out morphine like candy and cruel Nazi or Soviet scientists, you weren’t competing with anybody too incredible.

“It’s not so bad,” he bluffed, but he couldn’t hide the wince when you touched his bruise.

“You’re not a very good liar, Sergeant,” you told him with a smile. God, he loved when you called him that. He hoped his body wouldn’t react to it in any uncomfortably obvious ways. “Honestly, I’m a little worried about the bones. I want to do an X-ray, if you don’t mind.”

“Go ahead,” he shrugged, “but you’re probably worrying too much.”

“You plan to walk off a compound fracture?” you scoffed.

“Bet I could, if you kiss it to make it better,” he smiled. He was expecting you to giggle a little at the casual flirtation, which you did, but he was surprised when you bit your lip at the end of it. That made it impossible to stop his cock from getting a bit interested, but thankfully it was still easy enough to hide. Clearly his casual flirting was starting to get to you, and it made him especially impatient but he tried to stay calm.

“I’m a good doctor, but I’m not that good. A prescription will do more for you,” you replied as you wrote something in his chart-- presumably that he needed to go down the hall for some x-ray work.

“If you say so.”

“Anything else bothering you?” you asked him.

“Oh, no, I won’t waste your time,” he dismissed.

“I’m getting paid, don’t worry,” you laughed. “I don’t have any more appointments until after lunch. Is there anything else going on?”

He shifted a little, the paper on the examination table crinkling as he did it. “Um… it’s nothing, I just--” he glanced up at you but then looked away again, still embarrassed to admit it-- “I’ve had a little trouble sleeping…”

“Nightmares?” you pressed. “Or general insomnia?”

“Um, nightmares,” he finally admitted, “not as bad as normal. The meds helped. Just… I still get them sometimes.”

“How many nights a week would you guess?” you asked. But you didn’t look to his chart like it was a quiz or something, you kept looking at him with patience and compassion. That was what really made his heart melt.

“Probably 2 or 3.”

“So we’re down from 6 to 7,” you remembered from what he’d said before you’d given him the medication he was on now, “that’s good. That’s progress. But, maybe we need to up your dosage if you haven’t seen better results after 4 weeks. You haven’t missed any doses, have you?”

He tried to fight his embarrassed smirk but it was too late.

“Bucky!” you scolded playfully. “I can’t up your dosage until you’re actually being consistent on the amount you already have, okay? I know it can be easy to forget but you have to stay on it. Set a timer on your phone or something if you need to.”

He nodded, but the problem wasn’t forgetting to take them as much as it was being ashamed that he needed them at all. But he’d stay on them if it made you happy.

“Anything else? Headache, twisted ankle, burns when you pee?”

He laughed and shook his head. “No, I think that’s everything.”

“Great, then I’ll let you get to your newly-booked X-ray appointment.” You handed him a sheet of paper for him to take to the X-ray office which informed the nurses there what angles you wanted on his ribs. “Just know that you can call me if you need anything, alright?”

He took the slip of paper but suddenly couldn’t respond, too lost in looking at you and wondering if you’d felt that same jolt of electricity when his hand brushed yours.

“What are you looking at me like that for?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“You take care of so many people,” Bucky pondered aloud, “I just wonder if someone takes care of you.”

He could tell by your face that you didn’t like the way his tone shifted, but he refused to backpedal. Just this once, he wanted to see you squirm a little bit.

“Wanna lollipop?” you asked him nervously as you handed him the plastic-wrapped red sucker in offering, but he waved it away.

He spent the rest of the afternoon thinking about how you would look with the cherry lollipop in your mouth: the way it would push your cheek out from the inside, stain your lips and tongue bright red, make your mouth taste like pure sugar.

Of all the things he’d imagined before, that was the one that made him realize it couldn’t just be a fantasy anymore. Thankfully, he hadn’t just been thinking of all the filthy things he wanted to do to you; he’d also been coming up with a plan.

The first thing you perceived when you woke up was the smell. It didn’t smell like your room. Such a simple difference, one you hadn’t even realized you would notice, but one that stood out instantly.

You opened your eyes and instantly spun your head around when you saw the grey cement room you were in. The bed underneath you creaked, unlike your bed, and you looked down at it as if you somehow expected to be in an unknown room but still be in your own bed.

It was then that you realized you were restrained with, of all things, satiny pink rope which pulled each of your limbs to the nearest bedpost. There was enough slack that you could wiggle around some, but it wasn’t exactly roomy either. Your heart raced as you pondered who could have possibly done this, and why.

You startled when you heard the door open, but relaxed when the menacing form suddenly struck you as familiar.

“Bucky,” you sighed with relief, “oh thank god you’re here-- quick, help untie me.”

As soon as you said it, though, you realized something wasn’t right. He didn’t look concerned at all, or confused. And that should be a good thing because it meant he had answers, except that you were suddenly realizing this was more complex than you were prepared for.

“Bucky… where are we?” you asked him, quieter, as you realized that he was not going to untie you immediately. Even still you were coming to terms with the possibility that it wasn’t really a matter of where we were and where, specifically, you were.

“Somewhere safe,” he answered simply, stepping closer.

You didn’t exactly believe that.

“Please, help untie me,” you requested again.

“I will,” he assured, “but I want to explain something first.”

Your heart sank straight through your stomach. You didn’t understand what was going on quite yet, but you were getting the gist enough to know that this was really fucking bad.

“Bucky,” you pleaded as he sat down beside you on the bed, “please let me go.” You felt very aware of how thin your pajama set was, how if he tried hard enough he could see your nipples hardening underneath your top for no apparent reason.

“Don’t get upset,” he soothed, “everything’s fine. I’m not going to hurt you-- nobody will anymore. You’re gonna stay here, with me, and I’m gonna take care of you.”

Your eyes burned with tears you couldn’t fight anymore. “Don’t do this,” you begged, “I’m your friend-- we’re friends, remember?”

“Of course I know that,” he sighed, “but that’s not enough. Couldn’t you tell I’d fallen in love with you?”

You shook your head, trying to process everything you were hearing. “This is insane. This is not what you do when you have feelings for somebody, Bucky.”

“What, you’re saying I should’ve just asked you out?”

“Well, I wouldn’t have been able to say yes-- because you’re my patient--”

“See? That’s what the ropes are for!” he smiled, like he was actually proud of his problem-solving skills. “You would’ve said yes if you could, I know. But you couldn’t. And now you don’t have to.”

You resented that he was right, that you would’ve dated him in a heartbeat if it wasn’t an ethical violation. You got the sense there were going to be even more severe ethical violations in your future, though.

You continued to beg him to stop, but it fell on deaf ears as he reached under the elastic waistband of your pajama shorts and pulled them down slowly. He gasped when he saw your pussy and you wished you could just disappear, turn invisible or, best of all, teleport out of here; anything to avoid this humiliation.

“Baby, you’re wet,” he observed. You weren’t sure if the first or second half of the sentence made you more uncomfortable, but either way, you couldn’t stop the shivers from dancing up your spine. “This all for me? Do you like being tied up?”

You refused to answer, looking to the side as if the concrete wall was suddenly fascinating to you, but he grabbed your jaw and turned you to look at him.

“I know you don’t know all the rules yet, but here’s the first one, and maybe the most important: answer me when I speak to you.”

It was cold but not quite threatening; still scared you senseless, though. You nodded.

“Do you like being tied up?” he repeated.

“N-no,” you answered.

“Answer honestly,” he specified.

You had, but you realized it was going to be safer to do what he wanted, so you cleared your throat and spoke again.

“Yes,” you whispered, “I like… being tied up.”

“That’s it?” he pressed. “It’s not me being here, is it? You never got wet when you saw me in appointments?”

This was going to be a lot harder than you anticipated. It seemed like there was no right answer.

“Didja ever get wet for somebody else? It was Steve, wasn’t it?”

“No!” you instinctively answered. “Um, I like Steve. But just as a friend.”

“Aw,” he smiled, “I knew you were the loyal type. Remember just a minute ago when you were begging me to stop cause you were my friend? I think you were lying then too, doll. You didn’t want to be just friends with me.”

“Whatever you’re going to do, just do it,” you grimaced. “I’m getting irritated.”

You yelped when he slapped the inside of your thigh, trying to pull away but only making it easier for him to dip under your leg so that he was between them, sitting back on the bed in front of you.

“Respect gets you a long way with me,” he promised, pulling a knife from a strap on his thigh and using it to quickly cut off the shorts. “Sass does not.”

You winced as he slipped a finger into you-- metal, and it was cold, too. Soothed the burn a bit, at least.

“Oh god,” he sighed, “just one finger and it barely fits…” You watched realization pass over his face as his gaze moved to your eyes. “Baby, are you a virgin?”

You closed your eyes because you knew they would reveal the truth. In all honesty it was probably better that he knew so there was at least some chance of him going easy on you, and yet you were still embarrassed for him to find out.

“Oh, you’re going to spoil me,” he grinned. “You really are too good to be true.”

A second finger pushed into you and a bite to the lip suppressed your moan.

“I’ll warm you up first, don’t worry,” he cooed. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Then why did you tie me up?”

“That’s for your safety, baby. I don’t wanna have to hurt you,” he clarified.

A third finger, immediately after you had adjusted to the second. You had never had so much inside you before and it made you feel a bit dizzy. His thumb grazed over your clit and you nearly jumped right off the bed as your hips bucked suddenly-- since when were you so sensitive?!

“Oh, poor little baby, you need it so bad,” he faux-pouted. You couldn’t tell if it was a mockery or genuine concern. “You’ll get it angel, don’t worry. Daddy’s gonna take care of you.”

That word made you feel a little sick. No wonder he needed to kidnap girls to get his rocks off, clearly this was the kind of stuff a normal date wouldn’t agree to.

Then again, it was Bucky Barnes. He could probably get any girl he wanted, even if he had some weird tastes. You still didn’t understand why it had to be you, specifically.

His thumb stayed on your clit, the pressure moving from teasing to firm to nearly too much. You tried to angle your hips away but the ropes stopped you (of course), and you were forced to take every sensation he gave you.

“You’re trying so hard to stay quiet, just let go,” he encouraged. “I wanna hear how good I make you feel.”

“Maybe I’m just naturally quiet,” you bluffed, but even just those few words were strained, and surrounded by panting as you failed to catch your breath.

“Oh, we both know that’s not true. I’ve heard you when you thought you were alone, doll.”

You knew what he must have meant, but it still made you whimper when he leaned in to whisper in your ear: “I heard you touching yourself.”

Your face was burning and you were sure you’d never blushed so hard in your life. You couldn’t be sure how much he’d heard, but just the way he smiled down at you made you sure he must have heard the times that his name passed your lips as you reached your peak.

Of course he couldn’t just let you stew in that, he had to mock you even further.

“Oh Bucky,” he recalled, raising the pitch of his voice a little, “please let me come, I’m so close, please…”

“Stop,” you begged, tears sliding down your temples. The fingers twisted inside you as both of you groaned.

“Yeah, it’s not a very good impression,” he sighed, “it’ll sound better when you do it. Don’t you wanna moan for me again?”

“You stalked me,” you realized aloud, “you spied on me at night, you kidnapped me--”

“And now we’re both getting what we want. I know you wished it was my fingers instead of yours. Doesn’t it feel good baby? Admit it. Tell me it feels good.”

You were determined to resist until he pulled his fingers out and used the metal hand to slap your pussy, both of you gasping at the wet noise it made. He did it again and your hips bucked wildly even as you were trying with everything in you not to react. One more and you finally moaned, the pain brief but strong while the pleasure never seemed to lessen.

“Just be honest,” he demanded, “I know you love it. I just need you to say it.”

One more spank and you were finally willing to cut your losses. “It feels good!” you exclaimed. You cried out when he hit you again, not having seen it coming at all since you’d done as he asked. “Say it again.”

“It feels good, Bucky, your fingers feel good,” you whimpered.

He finally seemed to calm down, giving you an oddly friendly smile. “Was that so hard?”

You shook your head, just trying to appreciate the stillness while you could.

“One little thing though: you don’t call me Bucky anymore. My friends call me Bucky; you’re so much more special than that. You’re my perfect little angel, and you call me Daddy.”

You saw it coming, but it didn’t make it any less awful. You squirmed a bit as he pushed up your top, biting his lip when he got a glimpse of your breasts.

“Oh, when did these get hard, huh?” he smiled as he tweaked your nipples between his fingers.

“It’s… cold in here,” you explained uncomfortably.

“Uh huh,” he pretended to believe you. “Don’t worry, we’ll find a way to warm you up.”

He let go of your tits so he could pull back and start undoing his belt; you swallowed dryly, not wanting to watch but unable to look away.

Of course he was big. It explained his personality, and you’d had your suspicions (and/or fantasies), but now all it did was scare you.

“Will it hurt?” you asked weakly. He smiled as he pulled off his shirt from behind his neck, tossing it aside.

“No baby, I stretched you with my fingers so you can take me. Might be a little bit of an adjustment at first, but we’ll go slow, okay?”

You couldn’t decide if it was sweet or patronizing. A little of both, perhaps.

He leaned over you, resting one hand beside your head as the other guided his cock to rub through your folds. You struggled again, barely able to process that this was actually going to happen, that you were going to lose your virginity tied up in some creepy sex dungeon to an obsessive patient who demanded you call him ‘Daddy.’ This wasn’t exactly the situation you had been saving it for.

“Ready for me, baby? Want me to make you mine?” he asked with a look of excitement, even vulnerability. Your body craved more after he’d left you dangling on the edge from his fingering, but your brain was thankfully still functioning properly.

“Please don’t,” you whimpered, “you can stop now, and I won’t tell anyone, and--”

“Baby, don’t talk like that,” he frowned. “This is it, okay? Us. Just us. Nobody else to get in the way. You’re not gonna tell anyone ‘cause there’s no one to tell.”

“You can’t,” you denied, “I have a life-- people who care about me, who are going to notice that I’m gone--”

“No, babygirl, stop-- you’re not listening to me,” he growled. “Stop fighting. You’re mine. You’re finally where you belong.”

“This is crazy,” you spat, “you’re crazy!”

“Baby…” he looked dejected, crestfallen. “You’re the only one who’s ever helped me feel normal again. If I’m crazy it’s only because I love you so much; I need you, doll.”

“You need intensive psychiatric care!”

Sadness shifted to anger as he sat back and stuffed his cock back into his trousers, even though it barely fit now that it was fully hard and leaking from the tip.

“I realize now I’ve given you more than you can handle. I knew you liked me back so I figured you would understand a little sooner but… I should’ve known you need more time before you really admit to yourself that you need someone to take care of you.”

Your relief shifted to fear when he stood back up off the bed and stepped away.

“Wait, don’t leave me here,” you squeaked, “untie me, please.”

Instead he knelt down and pulled a box out from under the bed. You couldn’t see what was inside when he opened it, but he seemed to find what he was looking for when he pulled out a vibrator and shut the lid. It was thin and a little curved, so when he roughly shoved it into you it hit right on your g-spot. You tried to squirm away but he held your hips down and turned it on to a setting that strobed the vibrations, teasing your spot but never giving you enough to get very far.

“I’ll come back when I think you’ve learned your lesson,” he informed you quickly as he started to leave the room.

“Bucky-- Bucky wait!” you called after him. “There’s no food or water you can’t leave me here wait don’t go BUCKY!”

But he was long gone. The door slammed behind him and echoed around the room; only when the sound was completely dead were you sure that he wasn’t coming back any time soon.

You had no way of knowing how much time had passed, but it felt like an eternity of you wiggling against the ropes, trying to either knock the vibrator out of you somehow or get it to move enough that you could at least come and feel some relief. Trying to push it out with your muscles was useless since the curved shape kept it inside of you, and you couldn’t arch your back enough to press it into the bed-- and if you could, you weren’t sure what good that would do.

Every once in a while the vibration would echo through your clit and it made your eyes water. You sobbed and bit your lip, hoping he would come back soon.

It was at least twice as long before he did, and at that point your voice had gone hoarse from calling out to him. You cried out for Bucky at least a hundred times and got nothing; but when you called for ‘Daddy’ just once, he suddenly appeared.

Somehow his return didn’t bring much relief, because you weren’t exactly safe with him around… but at least you weren’t alone.

He reached between your legs and turned the vibrator off, though he left it inside of you. You took a deep breath and appreciated the stillness, though your body panged with hunger from so much pleasure with no release.

“I hated doing that to you,” he breathed deeply as he sat beside you on the bed, “but it had to be done. You were behaving so poorly. I’ve gone easy on you up until now but I can’t tolerate any more rebelliousness, alright?”

You nodded slowly, feeling the weight of his disappointment sink over you.

When he pulled out the vibrator, the tip of it grazed over your abused and sensitive g-spot and you bit back a groan. He set it aside and admired the mess you’d made; you couldn’t see it, of course, but you could tell that there was a wet patch of arousal beneath you on the sheets.

“Your body is ready for me, but I’m not sure your mind is right yet,” he explained, steely gaze finally meeting yours. “Are you going to be good, little girl?”

You were too exhausted to notice the nickname, or even to speak your reply. You just nodded again, watching him as he started unlacing his boots and slipped them off, then took his socks, trousers, and underwear off along with them.

Shit, you’d nearly forgotten how big he was. You swallowed with a dry throat and closed your eyes, just hoping it would be over with quickly.

“Open your eyes babygirl, I wanna look at you,” he murmured, running a finger across your cheek. You reluctantly obeyed and saw him hovering above you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips and it felt so wrong, so empty and peculiar. It was a weak facsimile of what a kiss was supposed to be like. He closed his eyes and ran his fingers into your hair, and it had all the trappings of the kind of kiss you’d share as a goodbye after a first or second date, but without any of the stuff that mattered like positive feelings or consent or not being in a creepy cement sex dungeon-- or whatever this was supposed to be.

He pulled away and looked down at you again, anger just starting to brew in his eyes. “Kiss me back,” he demanded. This time when he pressed his lips to yours, his tongue slid between them and it made you feel a little sick but you did your best to reciprocate. You found yourself trying to reach up to put your hands on his hair or neck but of course, the ropes made it impossible.

You felt his cock pressing between your thighs, rubbing up and down slowly, and your heart began to race. One hand slid between your bodies to guide his cock towards your entrance and he said something but you couldn’t hear it because your ears were ringing.

As soon as he pushed into you, your body jolted, trying to squirm away, but he just kept going, sliding into you in one long stroke.

Physically, it wasn’t painful. The vibrator had helped relax your walls, even numbed them a little bit. And yet, even without pain it was so much. You felt like the wind had been knocked out of you, like you were so full you couldn’t even breathe.

When he was fully seated inside you, Bucky moaned deeply, kissing your neck and mumbling something about how perfect you were. But all you could focus on was his cock pulling back only to slam home again.

“Fuck!” you yelped. You had no idea anything could be so deep inside you.

“Watch your language, angel,” he purred, biting at your earlobe. “You promised to be good, remember?”

The hand that had been gripping your thigh suddenly moved to rub your clit and you choked on a moan.

“It’s okay, it’s supposed to feel good,” he encouraged. “It’s okay to come, baby. I know how bad you wanna come for me.”

You were embarrassingly close as he had observed, a side effect of having been left on the edge for so long. You could feel your walls rippling around him, and you wondered if he could feel it, too. Every thrust stroked parts of you that you hadn’t even realized existed, and when he pushed as deep as he could into you, the tip of his cock hit something so sensitive that you genuinely couldn’t tell if it was painful or pleasurable.

“Are you close? I don’t know how much longer I can last, you’re so tight,” he groaned. “Fuck, you want me to fill you up don’t you? Wanna be full of Daddy’s cum?”

Before you could even consider ignoring his question, he wrapped his left hand around your neck.

“Yes, Daddy,” you croaked through the weight on your windpipe, “fill me up, please.”

Talking like that made your heart twist with shame but somehow pushed you even closer to your peak. You knew he could tell that you were turned on by it from the way your muscles tightened around him.

“I will baby, I promise,” he smiled. “Do you wanna beg to come, like you did when you were by yourself?”

You moaned because it was like a fantasy come true, in a monkey’s paw sort of way. This is what you had wanted, right? Just… in a way completely different from how it was turning out?

“Daddy, please,” you answered, so quiet and heavy with embarrassment that it was barely above a whisper, “please let me come.”

“Oh fuck,” he responded hoarsely as his thrusts came faster, more ragged. “Come, princess. I wantcha to scream for me.”

As you started to fall over the edge, you felt like you had lost control over your body; your arms and legs tugged at the ropes as jolts of pleasure coursed through them, and your mouth was spilling moans and whimpers and even his name. His real name, specifically, though he thankfully didn’t seem to mind. He kissed you again as he came, moaning into your lips and still inside you.

You felt cold and sticky and humiliated as he sat up and pulled out, admiring the way your hole leaked out his seed and flexed involuntarily around nothing.

“Oh look at you,” he praised, “my perfect little girl. You’re even more amazing than I dreamed, doll.”

You tried not to listen or watch him as he got off the bed, coming back with boxers on and a damp washcloth to clean you.

“I’m gonna untie you now, okay? Promise you won’t kick me or anything?”

You quickly nodded, willing to promise anything if it meant getting untied. “You’ll just do more harm to you than to me if you try anything, angel,” he reminded you quickly as he started work on your right ankle. The ropes were silky so they hadn’t been rubbing your skin too raw, but there was still soreness from the tight knots. You were a bit surprised when he gave your ankle and foot a brief massage once he was done untying the rope, and did the same to your other foot, and then your wrists and hands. It helped a lot with getting the blood flow back to normal, and you almost considered thanking him but that would’ve been ridiculous. ‘Hey, thanks for the foot massage, next time don’t tie me up and rape me first but, otherwise 10/10.’

Bucky was so impressed with the progress you’d made in a week. Only two escape attempts and you’d taken your punishment quite well both times. He had expected a rocky start, he’d understood what he was getting himself into, so none of it really came as a surprise. You’d managed to get a good crack at his nose once, kicking him straight between the eyes before making a run for it. Yes, it hurt like a bitch and took a few days to heal, but it had actually been a blessing in disguise; that day you’d made it out the front door and realized that you were in the middle of nowhere. When he’d caught up to you, you were standing barefoot and half-naked in the snow, not even running anymore because, apparently, you’d realized there was nowhere to run to.

“I built this place for us, for you,” he explained. “Somewhere far away, all to ourselves. Nobody for miles.”

“How many miles?”

He chuckled a bit to himself. “Baby, it’s a really big number. You’re too little to understand.”

Normally you resisted that sort of talk but this time it shut you up. Hopefully you were beginning to properly realize that this was your new life.

“Are we in New York?” you asked, quieter.

“I’m not sure if I should tell you that yet. I don’t want you to get any complicated ideas in that pretty little head,” he cooed, kissing your forehead for emphasis before leaving you behind to start cooking dinner.

“I’m not eating with these,” you announced firmly as he set your place at the table with a set of pink, rubber-coated utensils.

“It’s too messy to eat with your hands,” he frowned.

“Do you honestly not realize that I want to eat with normal utensils? Or are you just trying to drive me insane?”

Bucky set your plate down a little too firmly, making you and the food on top jump. “Don’t talk back to me.”

“I just… it’ll take me forever to finish an adult-sized portion of food with child-sized utensils.”

“Then maybe you’re not ready for an adult-sized portion,” he threatened. That seemed to get your attention, but you stayed quiet. “Maybe you’re not hungry at all?”

“I’m hungry,” you denied. “Please, I want to eat.”

“And I want to eat with you. But this roundabout is getting on my last nerve, doll. Now are you gonna be good and eat your dinner?”

“...yes, Daddy,” you sighed. He smiled and sat down across from you. You were learning. Slowly, but surely.

Bath time was always a fight, though. You still had some ridiculous notions about ‘privacy’ and ‘autonomy’ and crap like that, and it meant that you were likely to act up and refuse to be washed.

“I can do it myself!”

“But you don’t have to, don’t you see?”

“I want to.”

“The world doesn’t revolve around what you want, angel.”

“Let me guess: it revolves around what you want?” “No,” Bucky shook his head and tried to summon some more patience, “I have to take care of you. Sometimes that means doing things you don’t like, because I know what’s best for you.”

“I hate you,” you mumbled as you turned away, and that really broke his heart. He knew you didn’t really mean it, but it still hurt.

“Baby… don’t say that,” he pleaded as he turned your face to him. “It hurts Daddy’s feelings when you say things like that.”

“Yes, that was the idea,” you hissed. “I just want to take a shower, alone.”

“Any chance you had at that is long gone,” he grimaced. “What you’re getting is a bath, with me, and if you quit this attitude now you might still be able to avoid getting a spanking as well, do you understand?”

Your shoulders slumped as you nodded. He knew your poor little bottom was still sore from the last spanking, and as he helped you undress for the bath, he could still see a few welts along the skin. He kissed them quickly, a reminder to both of you what he was capable of, before helping you into the water and slipping in behind you. It was spacious, so there was ample room for the two of you, but he still held you close and pressed your back into his chest.

He had a lot of ideas about what you two could do in this bath, but he knew that now was not the time. Still, he let his mind wander and smiled to himself when you gasped from his erection pressing into your thigh.

He helped you wash your hair, and for that moment where your head was nearly submerged and he was using his fingers to massage out the shampoo, you looked so peaceful. He normally only got to appreciate this look on your face as you slept, but you were almost smiling this time, and it made his heart sing. A week of tantrums was worth it for just a few quiet moments like this.

“I’m gonna let you finish up on your own, okay? I trust you not to do anything dangerous…” he decided as he stepped out.

“Really?” your face instantly lit up. Sure, you’re never supposed to leave them alone in the bath, but he was feeling extra generous and he sympathized with your desire for control. Freedom could be good for you, in moderation.

“Of course.”

“T-thank you, Daddy,” you awkwardly responded.

He dried off and dressed, and waited nearby in the living room, listening to you drain the bathwater and start a shower.

You emerged wrapped in a towel and looking slightly lost.

"Honey, where are your clothes?" he asked you with a furrowed brow.

“I don’t have anything to wear,” you informed him. Oh, right. You were being resistant to wearing the clothes he had picked out for you. Apparently you found the overwhelming presence of baby pink to be tacky, and you hated that everything was cute and tiny… he couldn't understand seeing something cute and tiny and not liking it. After all, you were the most adorable thing he'd laid eyes on and it made it impossible not to like you. You just needed clothes to match.

“I have clothes laid out for you,” he explained.

“I’d rather be naked than wear what you pick for me,” you snarled.

“Hey, I wouldn’t complain,” he shrugged, trying to suppress his frustration. “Don’t come bitchin’ to me when you’re cold, though.”

You sat next to him on the couch, defiantly naked and confidently ignoring him. He admired your stubbornness, or at least he found it amusing.

“Do you wanna watch a movie now?” he asked, but he knew you had figured out that this was a mandatory activity.

“Don’t see any reason to wait,” you smiled sarcastically.

Of course, when he got up to show you some DVDs so you could pick what you wanted (Wall-E; he knew you didn’t actually want to watch that since your typical fare was horror and action movies, but it was your favorite of the options), he quickly turned down the thermostat. Perhaps a comfortable 55 Fahrenheit would help you remember why it’s important to take what Daddy gives you.

He hadn’t seen Wall-E before but he found it oddly relatable. A robot, built for someone else’s purpose, abandoned in a filthy, empty world… it brought back some old feelings that he managed to press back down.

Regardless, he was distracted from it when he could literally feel you shivering from across the couch.

“Are you cold, darling?” he asked presumptuously.

“No,” you denied, barely managing to suppress the chattering of your teeth.

“Do you want the clothes?”

“Shut up.”

He just laughed a little to himself, ignoring your rude language and turning back to the TV.

It did kill him a bit to have to pretend he didn’t care when you were obviously uncomfortable, but you would’ve been even more irritated with him if he’d held you down and forced you to put the outfit on.

This fucker was smart, you’d give him that. Or maybe it was just that you were stupid. Not stupid, really, but having no sense of self-preservation. Why had you chosen this hill to die on? You couldn’t even remember why you’d put up a fight at all. You were so cold that you couldn’t even understand what could’ve ever compelled you to reject an offer of clothes. Didn’t help that you knew he was so close, that if you cuddled up to him you would be warm, but that it would mean the loss of your last shred of dignity.

Only a week and you were starting to completely lose your sense of yourself. You searched within and couldn’t find any of the fight you’d had so many times before. You remembered that time you kicked him right in the face, and where you once found pride at the memory, you found guilt. You felt guilty for hurting him, after everything he’d done to you-- why?

“B-bucky…” you finally relented not even an hour into the movie, stammering from the force of your shivers.

“Hm?”

“I want… I want the c-clothes.”

He smiled a little, in an insulting way. “Ask nicely, doll.”

“P-please, Daddy,” you whimpered.

He came back with the clothes in hand, but when you reached out for them, he shook his head and motioned for you to stand up. You sighed but obeyed, your entire body shaking with violent shivers as your bare feet hit the cool concrete floor.

He knelt down, holding the lace panties open for you as you shyly stepped into them. He pulled them up to your hips and let the elastic slap your skin a little as he let go, making you jump. He did the same with the fuzzy pink pyjama pants, running his hands over soft fabric for just a second as he stood up, helping you into the loose grey sweatshirt. It was the least feminine thing he’d ever let you wear, noticeably absent in anything pink or fuzzy or girly or adorned with bows. You only realized as it slipped over your head that it was his, because once you plunged into darkness inside of it, you were overwhelmed with the smell of him. You wouldn’t have known that you could recognize his smell, but now that you were in it, it was undeniable.

You were almost surprised to see him when your head popped through the neckline, somehow. It’s not as if you had forgotten he was there in the three seconds you couldn’t see him, just that he looked so different to you now. He had this stoic, nearly stern look on his face as he helped you get your hands through the sleeves, and the way he caressed your fingers as they emerged from the cotton was so upsettingly tender.

“Daddy…” you mumbled, and he looked back at your face.

“Is this better? Are you warmer?”

“My feet…” you realized, looking down at them.

“I’ll get you some socks, baby,” he nodded, dashing away for a moment. You felt colder with him gone. It couldn’t be loneliness, could it? Even knowing he’d only be gone less than a minute, you were unduly anxious for his return.

He came back and held your feet up by the ankle one at a time as he rolled pink fuzzy socks-- with lace at the ankle, of course-- over your feet. You wiggled your toes into them, finally feeling like you’d be able to get warm again.

“Let’s finish the movie, okay?” he suggested, rubbing his hands on your arms. You nodded, allowing him to guide you back to the couch and finding yourself cuddling into his side as he laid an arm over your shoulders.

You barely managed to pay attention as you felt his hand slip lower, resting on your waist. Then your hip, then your thigh.

Something about the way the lace panties rubbed against your pussy made you feel so oddly sensitive, and even the inside of his sweatshirt was just rough enough to make your nipples react every time you adjusted your position.

You figured he realized your condition pretty quickly, but he didn’t react until a moan, so quiet that you were sure he wouldn’t hear it, passed your lips.

“Everything alright, doll?” he asked, failing to hide the fact that he clearly knew the answer.

You didn’t respond, distracted by his other hand reaching over and stroking your thigh. You were caged in his embrace now, and your heart raced in a way that was oddly lacking in fear.

“Tell me what you’re feeling,” he demanded, watching your nervous reaction to his intensity.

“Daddy I… I feel tingly,” you murmured, feeling yourself blush.

“Where, baby?”

“D-down there,” you admitted as you forced your eyes shut, too embarrassed to look him in the face as you said it.

“You need Daddy’s help?”

“Please,” you whispered, hating yourself a little for needing him but too desperate to really care.

In one motion he’d already turned the TV off, pulled you onto his lap, and started kissing where the baggy neckline of the sweatshirt exposed your collarbone.

You were rubbing yourself on his thigh and you didn’t even know how to stop. It felt so good. It made your skin warm up even faster as you recovered from the cold.

He slipped his right hand into your pants as the other pulled you closer until your face was buried in his neck. If there was anything worth appreciating about Bucky, it was how good he was with his fingers. He knew your body better than you did at this point-- but then again, he had spent so much time exploring it in one week that he was probably competing with you already in terms of practice time.

“Oh my god,” you moaned as his fingers moved faster and firmer, making your hips jerk forward unexpectedly.

“It feels good?” he asked in that way that made it obvious he knew the answer.

“Yes, Daddy, it feels so good,” you whimpered. You’d gotten pretty good by now at appeasing him by performing the role he wanted you to play… so good, in fact, that it was starting to feel very real.

Just as you were grabbing onto his shoulders to hold you steady through your orgasm, he was pulling out his hand and reaching for his own pants instead.

“Need to be inside you,” he explained quickly as he pushed them down and revealed his hard, leaking cock. “I need to be inside you when I make you come.”

He helped you slide off your pants and underwear but pulled you back into his lap the absolute second they were discarded. He slid you down onto his cock with a groan, and your face was so hot as you processed how wet you were, how easily he entered you. Your joy halted, though, when he held your hips down. You tried to wiggle around for some friction but he was so strong that it was a complete waste.

“Daddy,” you mumbled with confusion, “what are you doing?”

“You’re mine, baby, ‘m gonna use you how I please,” he reminded you darkly, “and right now I want you to stay still and wait.”

“But--”

He slapped your ass harshly, and you whimpered but decided not to put up much more of a fight.

All the while as you tried to stay still, he was kissing your neck and jaw and cheeks, murmuring praises and leaving the softest bite marks every once in a while.

“Please let me move,” you sobbed against his shoulder, having to fight everything in you not to start grinding on him like your life depended on it.

“I’m not ready yet,” he denied.

“I’ll be good, I promise,” you whimpered. “I’ll do anything. I just need to come, and I need to make you come, please…”

With a hand on either side of your hips, he started to move you on top of him, excruciatingly slow. Your head fell back from how wonderful just that felt.

“Anything? You’re gonna spoil me talking like that, doll.”

“Oh god, anything, just move a little faster, please,” you begged. Of course you knew it was a bad idea, and you figured you were going to regret saying it, but your need was surpassing your sanity at the moment.

He grabbed your face and pulled you down until your lips were almost brushing his, but not quite. “Keep riding my cock, babygirl.” You nodded, finally free to pick up the pace to where you wanted it, and you bit your lip as his cock stretched you exactly how you needed it to.

“Daddy, you feel so good inside me,” you moaned.

“I can tell,” he smiled, “you’re making those perfect noises, it’s killing me not to flip you over and fuck you so hard right now.”

You were much more inspired by that mental image than you expected to be. Those few times he’d gotten really rough with you, it had made you so wet you thought you might get dehydrated.

When he spoke again, his voice was so low that it sounded like a growl, echoing in his chest and making shivers run up your spine. “I know what I want you to do for me.”

You swallowed and braced yourself as he pulled you even closer, looking right into your eyes.

“Tell me you love me,” he demanded.

You gasped, tears starting to burn at the back of your eyes. It was the last thing you expected, but it also tracked. Of course that was what he wanted. But now that you were trying to form words and nothing would come out, you were kind of wishing he’d just said he wanted anal.

“D-daddy,” you stammered, distracted by him grabbing your hips and moving you even faster on top of him. He was practically throwing you up and down on top of him, and somehow doing it effortlessly.

“Just say it,” he whispered.

“I love you,” you whispered back. He smiled and pulled you into a deep kiss, swallowing every moan as you felt yourself barrelling towards your peak.

“Please, I’m about to come-- can I come, Daddy?”

“Almost,” he nodded, “say it again, babygirl.”

“I love you,” you panted, “Daddy, I love you, please--”

“One more time,” he grunted, watching your face.

“I love you!” you yelped, unable to hold back your orgasm any longer and feeling your walls flutter as sensation washed over you. Thankfully he wasn’t far behind, only thrusting up into you a few more times before he spilled himself with a groan.

He kissed you long and slow, staying inside you even as his cock began to soften a little. When he pulled away, he looked up at you with an expression that brimmed with restrained excitement.

“Oh, doll, you have no idea how good it is to finally hear you say that,” he beamed. “We’re gonna be so happy here together… just me and my best girl, right?”

“Right,” you smiled, but as soon as you blinked a tear was rolling down your cheek. He wiped it away with his thumb.

“Don’t cry,” he soothed, “everything’s finally the way it’s supposed to be. You’re finally where you belong, with me.”

You nodded weakly and felt whatever grip you had on your sanity loosening. Dreams of escape faded as he carried you to bed, holding you in his arms all night long. You were beginning to embrace the simplicity of just letting life happen to you. For every time you felt belittled and patronized by his coddling, there was another time that you secretly felt protected and loved. The truth was, even though you had experienced so much that you couldn’t begin to describe in the past week, you had been relieved of so much of the stress you dealt with before. As you drifted to sleep, you only hoped that you could manage to hide that truth from yourself just a little bit longer.

He was honestly proud of himself for managing to keep his hands off you while you slept all this time. But it wasn’t too much longer before you woke him up with your stirring. At first he was just going to give you a quick hug and then get back to sleep, but then as he pulled you closer, he realized you were dreaming. And when you moaned quietly in your sleep, he realized it wasn’t just any dream.

He smiled to himself as he kissed your neck gently, wondering if you would wake up or not. It was sort of a win-win either way for him. He let his hands slide down your body, listening to your breathing as it began to pick up. Your mouth fell open and it made your sounds even more apparent as he carefully opened your legs.

“Oh baby, you’re drenched,” he murmured to no one in particular, admiring the way your pussy glistened in the low light of the room. This was one of those times that he really appreciated his choice to make you sleep naked almost every night.

One metal finger sliding through your folds made you shiver. He wondered if it was from arousal or if the metal felt cold on your warm skin. Your clit was swollen, and apparently extra sensitive from the way your sleeping body erupted in goosebumps when he drew lazy circles around it.

Suddenly lacking in the patience more foreplay would require, he found himself shoving down his boxers and stroking his cock, preparing to push into you. If that didn’t wake you up, he’d be slightly concerned… but he wasn’t sure if he’d be concerned enough to stop fucking you. Thankfully he didn’t have to face that dilemma because the second he was pressing his head into your opening, your eyes flew open.

“Daddy!” you yelped, your voice sounding a little strange as you were torn from your sleep.

He bottomed out and groaned softly, relishing how tightly you wrapped around him. “You looked so beautiful, baby, I couldn’t help myself.”

You mewled but said nothing, only wrapping your hands around his biceps as he pulled back to thrust into you again.

“What were you dreaming about?” he asked firmly.

“N-nobody-- I mean, uh, nothing,” you stumbled over your words.

“Oh, you can’t lie to me very well can you? It’s okay doll, you can tell me, but if it’s someone other than me I’m probably gonna kill him.”

He felt you tense up a little and he knew he’d scared you. He sort of wanted to do it again, because he loved the way your cunt tightened in that moment, but he decided against it.

“Aw, I’m just joking,” he dismissed, though he wasn’t quite sure if he actually was or not. “Go ahead, tell me what you were dreaming.”

“Y-you were there,” you explained, “but it wasn’t just you.”

“Is that so?”

“Um, yeah,” you deflected nervously.

“Go ahead, spit it out,” he hissed as he started to thrust into you a bit harder.

“Well, uh, Steve was there too,” you finally admitted. A lot of emotions hit him at once when he heard you say that. Of course jealousy was prominent, but it was different than it would’ve been before... you were home now, and nobody could take you away. Both of you knew that. So it might have been a slight blow to the ego, but he didn’t see Steve as a threat. What he did see was an opportunity to make you squirm, which he was always looking for.

“Was he watching us?” Bucky pressed.

“Uh, sort of…” you trailed off.

He leaned down, putting his lips right against your ear. “Was he fucking you?”

You whimpered but he could tell you were turned on. He reached down and roughly rubbed at your clit. “Be honest, darling.”

“He wasn’t,” you explained, “you were; you said he wasn’t allowed to… but I gave him a-- a blowjob.”

As much as Bucky wasn’t exactly the sharing type, he was intrigued by the mental image of you stuffed with cock at both ends like that. Even more so he was intrigued by the fact that it apparently turned you on.

“Is that what you want, huh? One cock isn’t good enough for you? Who knew you were such a fucking slut.”

“‘M not!” you denied.

“Then why are you soaked from dreaming about choking on somebody else’s cock while I fuck you, huh?”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“And how did you feel when I told Stevie he wasn’t allowed to fuck you? Even in your sleep you know your Daddy owns you. That this is my hole and I decide everything that happens to it.”

You moaned so loud that he was afraid he would come right then and there. You sounded like heaven. He thrust into you as hard and deep as he could, slamming into your cervix and hitting your clit with his pelvis with each brutal motion. You cried out and dug your nails into his skin.

“Fuck, you like it rough don’t you? Of course you do. ‘Cause you’re Daddy’s needy little whore.”

“Yes, I’m close!” you yelped.

“Doesn’t matter, I’m not gonna let you come until you beg for it. Seems like you need to remember that I’m the only one for you.”

“Just you, Daddy, I only want you!” you reassured, but he wasn’t buying it.

“I’d die before I let you get on your knees for another man, do you believe me babygirl?”

“Yes, I know Daddy, I’m yours, there’s nobody else.”

“If you wanna come you better start askin’ really nice,” he growled.

“Please, Daddy, I want you to make me come! It feels so good, please…”

“Keep going.”

“You’re amazing, your cock feels amazing, I wanna come for you so bad--”

“Fuck, baby, beg me to use you.”

He knew you were flustered by that.

“I-- I don’t know how,” you protested.

“Oh come on, you’re dumb but you’re not that dumb,” he grinned. “Just how I said it.”

“Use me,” you murmured in defeat, “please.”

“That’s it,” he praised, “just like that-- come for me, doll.”

You were so obedient, tightening around him and nearly screaming with pleasure the moment he commanded you to. He wasn’t far behind, succumbing to the perfection of your wet heat and filling it with his climax.

“Fuck!” he groaned when he hit the peak of it, trying somehow to focus entirely on both the way you felt and the way you sounded.

Normally he cleaned you up after this but right now he wanted his come to leak out of you all night, make your thighs and the sheets sticky. Apparently you had some sort of implant or something which kept you safe… he was trying not to count the days until it wore off. He figured you would totally lose it if he told you that he wanted to get you pregnant, and yet, he was surprised that you hadn’t asked him about getting your implant replaced.

You knew that life was unpredictable and all that, but if never in a million years would you have expected for the Winter Soldier to be painting your nails. But there he was, focused intently on each stroke of the tiny brush as he held your hand still.

“This’ll help you stop chewing your nails,” he gave as his excuse. It was almost believable, except that he did your toes too. Amazingly enough, you’d never chewed on those.

They were actually sort of pretty, if you were being honest. You admired them a little, as they dried. It wasn’t a perfect paint job by any means, but much better than you expected from Bucky and honestly, a bit better than you would’ve done it in all likelihood. The baby pink color was a little nauseating as always, but it admittedly did look nice with your skin tone.

“What do you say?” he prompted.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you smiled. “It looks nice.”

“You’re welcome, angel. I think so too. We’ll take ‘em for a spin when they’re dry.”

You swallowed. You had a pretty good idea of what that would entail.

Next was your hair. Pigtails, the way he always did it. You never quite understood what he liked so much about turning you into a girlier, more childish version of yourself, but you were finally embracing the things that you liked about being in this role. He certainly pampered you, which was hard to complain about. In your whole time here (you struggled to keep track but it must have been over a month now) you'd never cooked once.

After lunch he had you on your knees, looking up at him while you started to unzip his fly. You found yourself salivating a little as you pulled his half-hard cock out of his boxers.

“Baby, your hands are so small…” he noticed reverently. “Barely fit around it.”

“It’s not that they’re small, it’s that you’re so big,” you replied, more honest than you were used to being with him.

“You flatter me,” he grinned. “Do it some more.”

You felt put on the spot, but feared disappointing him. “Daddy, your cock is… so big,” you improvised, still stroking him as he got harder for you, “I can’t believe it fits inside me.”

“Hmm, it almost doesn’t,” he recalled.

“But it feels so good when-- when I get used to you and, um, your cock… stretches me…”

He groaned a little, and you moved your hand faster.

“Fills me up so good, Daddy,” you moaned, getting more into it than you had intended to. “Your cock feels so fucking good, it’s like it’s made for me--”

He cut you off suddenly by pushing you back onto the mattress, hovering over you as a muscular hand wrapped around your throat.

“Got quite the mouth on ya, doll,” he growled. “Do I need to wash it out with soap?”

You shook your head; he wasn’t choking you hard enough to stop you from speaking entirely if you had really wanted to, but you were too stunned to say much. His attitude could flip on a dime like this, and you could never see it coming. The fear made your heart race; the anticipation made your thighs clench together.

He smiled as he pulled back, letting go of your neck and reaching for his cock instead. “I can tell you’re worked up. Go ahead, touch yourself.”

You hesitated because typically that would be an infraction, but he nodded for you to continue as you nervously reached between your legs.

You gasped softly when you touched your clit: it was swollen, and especially sensitive. You hadn't realized how turned on you really were. Slowly, you started to rub circles around it as your hips rocked with your movements.

"Does it feel good?" he asked, and when you looked up at him, he was stroking himself as well. You nodded quickly. "'M gonna come on that pretty face, little one. Beg me for it."

"Daddy…" you murmured in shock, "I… want you to come on my face, please. Wanna be covered in it."

"You're not a good liar," he grinned. "I know you really want me to fuck you."

He wasn't wrong, so you nodded again and watched his hand speed up as it moved up and down his length.

"You poor thing," he cooed. "I fuck you daily and you're so disappointed to be going without, to just be getting my come on your face like the dirty little whore you are."

His words stung but your hand was moving faster between your legs.

"You're getting close, aren't you? Wait until I'm ready," he ordered. You swallowed dryly but slowed down a little to buy yourself some time.

He grunted a bit and you really hoped it was signalling an orgasm because you felt yours building unstoppably. You didn't even think you could pull your hand away from yourself if he asked you to, you needed to come so bad.

"Fuck, open your mouth baby-- stick your tongue out," he commanded quickly, stepping forward until his cock was casting a shadow over your face. "Oh god, just like that… ready baby?"

You nodded one more time and heard yourself panting loudly through your open mouth, your moans only interrupted by a wince as his come spurted forward and painted your face and exposed tongue in hot stripes. Your orgasm hit just in time, embarrassingly spurred on by the degrading position you were in.

When he was done-- which seemed to take forever because he came so much-- he started to catch his breath before slipping his softening cock onto your come-coated tongue and into your waiting mouth.

"Mm, you look so good like this," he praised, "I'm not sure I wanna let you wipe it off."

A flesh thumb moved down to your cheek and rubbed a stray drop of spend into your skin.

"My perfect little cum dumpster, huh?" he said proudly, as if it was an award or achievement or something, and not a sick, insulting term.

Weird thing was, you felt proud of yourself, too.

He’d been working outside all day, chopping firewood in preparation for the upcoming winter. Sure, the cabin had heating, but he had a lot of ideas about cuddling in front of the fire, or maybe making love beside it.

Regardless, even super soldiers tire and must rest after working. He decided to head inside and heat up something warm to stave off the cold. You were still sleeping last he’d checked, exhausted from a long night-- yes, that kind of long night. He almost felt guilty for putting your body through so much… you were so delicate, sometimes he forgot you couldn’t always handle what he could. However, you were stronger than you realized, and such a perfectly obedient little girl; he smiled at the memory of your skin under his fingertips, your fragile form writhing and whimpering beneath him as he’d taken you for hours. As he daydreamed and began to enter the kitchen, he was torn from his imagination by a sound from your room. At first he wondered if he’d misheard it, but when he heard you cry out again, he assumed you were hurt and nearly tripped over himself to run to you. His heart was racing and he almost considered reaching for his sidearm-- there was no way someone could’ve broken in and tried to hurt you, right?

But as he flung open the door, instead he found you alone with your hand between your legs. You jumped up when you saw him, but it was too late.

“The fuck are you doing?!” he exclaimed, climbing onto the bed and trapping you before you could crawl backwards away from him.

“I-- I was just--”

He cut you off with a quick slap to the face. Not to hurt you, just to get you to focus on him.

“You know you can’t touch yourself without my permission. Did you forget?”

“No…” you murmured ashamedly.

“If you knew it was wrong, why did you do it?”

“I… I just missed you…”

“Why didn’t you call me for help? I can’t take care of you if you don’t ask.”

“I knew you were busy, I didn’t want to bother you--”

“Show me what you did,” he growled, watching you sheepishly spread your legs again to reveal your wet pussy and swollen clit. “Oh doll, you really did a number on yourself. Did you come without me?”

You looked away.

“Don’t bother lying. Did you make yourself come with your fingers?”

“Yes…”

You were hiding something. He almost didn’t want to know the entire truth because it was breaking his heart to know you’d disobeyed so severely, but he had to know what happened if he was going to discipline you properly.

“Was it more than once?”

You shook your head and his blood went cold upon the realization that you were hiding something worse.

“What were you thinking about?” he asked you slowly. He could hear your breathing quickened and he was sure he might die if you said what he was afraid of. “Answer me.”

“I was thinking about… being fucked…”

“By who?” he asked. You opened your mouth instantly but he cut you off. “Don’t lie.”

You spoke but it was so weak that it wasn’t even a whisper. “What was that?” he pressed.

“Sam,” you finally relented, “it was Sam.”

He was livid, but at least it wasn’t Steve.

“Go stand beside the bed and kneel,” he commanded firmly. You nodded weakly and slithered out from under him to do as he asked.

He took a deep, slow breath hoping to calm himself a little. He had heard that you shouldn’t punish little girls when you’re angry. But he needed to nip this in the bud.

He got off the bed and approached you after a moment, running a finger under your chin and guiding you to look up at him.

“You understand you’ve been very naughty, don’t you?” he asked with a cold fury tinting his voice.

“Yes, Daddy,” you answered. Clearly you were trying to be extra good and dutiful, hoping that strict adherence to the rules from here on out could save you some pain. You weren’t wrong, but he wished that you would’ve had that attitude a little sooner.

“And if I don’t teach you a lesson, that would be unfair to both of us.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed and opened his belt and fly, pulling out his cock. He sensed that you were compelled to lean forward and take it in your mouth, but you stayed still; you knew he would tell you exactly what he wanted you to do.

As he stroked his cock to full hardness, he glared at you so intensely that you couldn’t keep his gaze, looking up briefly but always glancing back down to the floor shamefully.

“I-I’m sorry, Da-” you began weakly.

“You’ll speak when spoken to,” he interjected harshly. Finally, he held your jaw with one hand, the other holding his cock forward as he plunged it between your lips. He moaned a little when you swirled your tongue over it, doing your best to coat every inch of it in wetness.

As quickly as he had pushed in, he pulled out again. He slapped his cock on your face, smearing your own spit on your cheek. He rubbed his tip over your lips in a circle, but when you opened up your mouth for him, instead he leaned forward and spit into your open mouth.

“Swallow it,” he demanded through his teeth, and you did though it made you shudder with disgust.

Only then did he shove his cock in again, and with brutal force as well. He used fistfuls of your hair to pull your face up and down on his cock, ignoring your whimpers of pain.

The room was filled with the sounds of your choking and coughing, until those extended periods of silence when his cock was shoved all the way into your throat and you couldn’t even get enough air for that. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard in his life.

When he pulled you off of him to look at your face, he grinned proudly. “Doll, you look like a fuckin’ mess.” And it was true; spit and pre-cum dribbling down your chin and onto the floor, red nose and puffy eyes from crying… truly a sight to behold.

He gave you one more slap for good measure, the fist in your hair preventing your head from spinning to the side.

“Gonna fuckin’ come in your throat. You’d better swallow it all, bitch.”

He could feel your whole body jerk when he said it, and it only served to make your throat even tighter around him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “just like that, choke on me, fuck, oh god, fuck--”

He came with a stuttered moan and the sounds of protest you tried to make were lost as cum filled your throat and mouth.

He smiled when you swallowed quickly, determined to obey. He wasn’t even done coming yet and you were swallowing it. Probably a good strategy; he had been pent up for a while now and he probably could’ve filled your tiny mouth until it was leaking.

When he was sure every drop of come had been spilled and swallowed, he pulled out and gave you some reprieve. You gasped for air loudly, coughing a few times but mostly maintaining your composure like the good little slut you were.

He watched you shift your hip uncomfortably and realized you must be quite agitated yourself.

“If you want something from me, just ask,” he encouraged. “That’s the whole point of this, isn’t it?”

“Please fuck me,” you whimpered.

He wagged his finger disapprovingly. “I don’t know if you deserve it.”

“Please!” you yelped, and he yanked you off the floor and into his lap quickly.

“You get so dumb when you need me,” he growled into your ear. “So desperate that you don’t know how to think about anything else but cock. Isn’t that right?”

You nodded with a gasp.

“You’re my dumb little baby, aren’t you? Say it," he hissed in demand.

“I’m your dumb little baby,” you repeated breathlessly.

“Get on your hands and knees and get that ass up.”

You obeyed quickly, almost eagerly, and he grinned at your obedience. You really needed it bad, and he was helpless but to oblige you. As soon as he was on his knees behind you and lining up with your sopping entrance, he was shoving his cock into you all at once.

You yelped at the brutality of the intrusion; he stayed still for a moment, relishing the feeling of your warmth, before pulling back out again.

“Wh-?” you began to protest in confusion, but he was a step ahead of you.

“That was just to get my cock wet, baby.”

One metal finger slipped into your puckered hole and you yelped. “D-daddy, not there!”

“Shhh, just relax,” he soothed.

“It’s gonna hurt,” you whined.

“That’s sort of the idea,” he explained. “I know what you can handle, doll.”

“And I can handle this?”

“I never said that.”

And with only one more finger and a few more minutes of hasty preparation, he was pushing his cock into your tighter hole.

“Shh,” he soothed when he felt you clench around him, but still pushing forward, indifferent to your hiss of pain.

“It hurts!” you sobbed.

“I know baby, you’re just gonna have to take it. This wouldn’t be happening if you had just asked me to help you.”

You pouted and it was equal parts adorable and pathetic. “I’m sorry!”

“I’ll tell you when it’s time to apologize. Right now you just need to be quiet. Don’t you wanna be a good little girl?”

“Y-yes.”

He started to move his cock inside you and you shivered under him.

“Please come,” you begged weakly after a few more minutes of thrusting.

“You wanna get it over with? Don’t like it?”

You nodded and he did feel bad for you, but he knew it was what you needed.

“I’ll come when I’m ready, doll. Just take Daddy’s cock, ‘s all you’re good for anyways, right angel?”

You nodded and bit back another sob, blissfully unaware of his adoring gaze; you looked so cute crying for his cock. He liked being strong enough to hurt you almost as much as he liked being strong enough to protect you.

“My perfect little crybaby,” he cooed. “Don’t whine too much or I’ll have to stuff that filthy mouth with a paci, alright?”

He watched you bite your lip and try to stay calm. Out of pity, he moved a little slower than he wanted to, giving you some more time to adjust. Eventually he felt you relaxing, though you still yelped a little when he pushed in all the way. It was hard to choose between watching your face or watching his cock stretch open your hole.

“God, you’re takin’ me so well,” he praised. “Who knew you were such a whore, huh?”

Before you could deny it, he reached down and swiped his fingers through your folds quickly, groaning when he felt how swollen and wet they were. “Fuck, baby, you’re drenched. You like getting fucked up the ass; such a dirty little slut.”

“Just for you, Daddy,” you informed him with a weak voice. He was still angry with you, of course, but he was so proud of you, too. He could remember all those times you’d tried to run or fight, now you were just laying there and taking it like a champ-- no restraints, no threats, just the desire to be good for him. You were everything he’d ever dreamed you could be and more.

The thought spurred his orgasm ahead sooner than he expected, but he still wanted to hold back. You needed more to learn your lesson, and he wanted to savor this feeling as long as possible.

His fingers had been digging into the supple flesh of your hips and ass, hard enough to bruise, but you felt too warm and too soft, so he gripped the sheets instead in his attempts to stave off his rupture.

But it wasn’t much longer until the tightness of you, the heat of you, the sweetness of your sobs all became too perfect to ignore. His cock was aching for release, and if he denied himself much more, he figured his balls would never relax from their tightened state.

“I think you’re ready to apologize now,” he groaned.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy,” you sobbed. “I swear, I’ll never touch myself without your permission again-- and I’ll never think about anybody but you! I only want you, I swear!”

“You sure, baby? You don’t think Sam would treat you better?” he mocked. Sam definitely would be nicer to you, but there was no way he could treat you better than Bucky did. Maybe you wanted a guy who was sweeter, more traditional, but this was what you needed and only your Daddy could give that to you.

“I’m sure! I only want you, please! Please, please come.”

“Is that what you want, angel? Want me to come in your tight little ass?”

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Please…?”

“Please, Daddy.”

And he came, though it was a little more physically taxing since it was the second of the night. You whimpered a little but he could tell you were relieved it was over.

You didn’t put up any fight at bath time that night, just curled into his arms and let him wash you as you whispered more apologies.

“Shh, it’s alright,” he soothed as he washed your hair, whispering right against your ear before giving it a little kiss. “You did good, baby. You made a mistake but you’re gonna learn from it and we’re gonna be better than ever. You took your punishment so well, darling, you should be proud.”

Today you'd woken up to an empty house, with a note on the kitchen table:

Gone for groceries, I'll be back in the afternoon. When I get home, greet me at the door wearing what I've laid out for you in your closet.

You figured it wasn't going to be something conservative by any means, but you were still taken aback by finding a tail, collar, and cat-ear headband. The collar was pink leather with a tiny bell and a little heart-shaped steel tag with your name on it. The realization that he had this custom-made sent a shiver down your back. On the back of the tag was another engraving:

IF LOST RETURN TO BUCKY BARNES

You were a little concerned about wearing only a collar, ears and tail… especially when you realized how the tail was intended to be worn.

Still, you had become thoroughly obedient, and you trusted that this would make him happy which was all you could hope for. You fought past your hesitation and changed out of your pajamas into the outfit (if it could even be called that when it contained no actual clothing).

He had the biggest grin on his face when he opened the door to find you on your knees just outside the entryway.

“Oh look at you, kitten,” he beamed.

Being naked on the floor was cold and awkward. You crossed your arms to cover your chest, frowning as you tried to avoid his penetrating gaze. “This is stupid. I feel stupid.”

“You are stupid," he smiled. "But you look great! Now behave or you’ll have to eat out of a bowl on the floor until you’ve learned to love being Daddy’s pet.”

Your eyes went wide.

“You’re gonna behave, right?”

“Y-yes, Daddy.”

He smiled and curled his finger, motioning for you to come closer. You awkwardly crawled towards him on your hands and knees, biting your lip absent-mindedly. When you were on the floor in front of his legs, he knelt down a bit and grabbed a handful of your ass. It made the plug inside you shift and you whimpered.

“Mm, this tail looks lovely on you,” he praised. “And the ears… you’re a natural.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” you shyly accepted the compliment.

"I bet you got wet putting this on, huh?" he presumed. You nodded as he moved to rub two fingers through your folds, proving himself right.

When he leaned back and pulled his cock from his jeans, you were surprised at how hard it already was. Clearly the kitten thing was working for him.

"Go ahead kitty, I know you want a taste," he encouraged.

You leaned forward and gave, fittingly, small kitten licks to the tip of his cock and he groaned. “Just like that, fuck.”

You hummed when you tasted his pre-cum on your tongue. You’d gotten so accustomed to it that you actually enjoyed the flavor now.

Hesitantly, you wrapped your lips around the head and suckled on it gently. Apparently, he didn’t care much for the slow-but-steady method; he slipped two fingers under your collar and used it to pull you down further until you choked.

He continued to guide you forward and back, moaning every time your throat accepted the leaking head of his cock.

“You don’t want me to come in your mouth, do you?” he asked with a grunt.

You shook your head.

He grinned knowingly, pushing you back until your mouth was empty and free to respond. “Where do you want it?”

“In my pussy.”

“Full sentences only, please.”

“I want you to come in my pussy, Daddy, please.”

“Hmm, you did ask very nicely,” he smiled. “But I have something else to do first. Go get on the couch, kitten, hands and knees.”

You almost stood up but realized he wanted you to crawl again. As soon as you’d done it, he was behind you, humming contentedly as he ran his rough hands over your skin. You mewled when he started to kiss along your back, down your ass and between your thighs until he was licking long stripes through your folds. Both of you moaned when he sucked your clit into his mouth, even allowing it to graze against his teeth which nearly hurt but made you gush with wetness anyways.

"Please-- I'm close, Daddy, can I come?" you whimpered.

"Go ahead," he mumbled before returning to his work, knowing exactly how to use his tongue to take you apart in mere minutes. Your hands grabbed desperately at the back of the couch for stability as your legs began to quiver with the force of your orgasm. You yelped and bit down on your lip as it crashed over you; sometimes when he ate you out, he wouldn't stop after you'd came and keep going until you were begging for mercy, but he was apparently feeling generous today and stopped once you'd finished.

That, of course, did not mean he was finished with you.

He pushed his jeans down to his thighs and laid back onto the mattress, cock so hard that it was pressing into his abs.

“Come on kitten, ride me,” he grinned, motioning for you to climb on top of him. The moment you did he was rubbing his cock against you, pushing it upwards for you to sink down onto it. You moaned as it stretched you open, and when your hips met his, the tip of it brushed against the deepest places inside you. You yelped and tried to move back up but he suddenly grabbed your legs and held you down.

“Nuh-uh, kitten, no running away. You’re gonna take all of me.”

“It’s too deep,” you protested weakly, even though you felt your walls throbbing with pleasure.

“Not at all, angel; you’re made for me, so you fit me perfectly,” he explained. “If I let you go, you’re gonna ride me properly, take my whole cock, right?”

You nodded and he eased up his grip. You felt your legs shaking as little as you pushed yourself up only to drop back down, wincing as he filled you so completely once again. You repeated the movement over and over, picking up pace and moaning every time. You could feel his cock moving the plug inside your ass, and each bounce on top of him made your collar jingle a little.

You did your best to keep up the pace, but to lift yourself required use of a muscle that you clearly hadn't been getting much exercise for; it wasn't more than a few minutes before you were faltering, your moans of pleasure accented with the struggling groans of exhaustion.

"Oh kitty, are you too weak? Too wimpy and small to ride my cock? Baby… that's pathetic," he moped.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," you pouted. "I'm just tired…"

"Just a little longer, kitten, just ride my cock a little more then I'll help you out, okay? I know you can do it. I know you can be a good girl."

You hoped he was right. You nodded weakly as he looked at you expectantly, before slowly beginning to move again in spite of your sore thighs.

Soon, as he'd promised, he pulled you down and wrapped his arms around you, thrusting up into you. Your moans echoed against his skin when your face was shoved into the crook of his neck. When his cock slammed into your most sensitive spot, you bit him there as a way to stifle yourself and he slapped your ass.

“Only bad kittens bite, doll. I thought you were going to be a good kitten for me?”

“Feels so good,” you tried to explain though it came out slurred, “please don’t stop.”

“I’m not gonna stop, baby. Not gonna stop until that pussy is full of my come. That what you want?”

“Yes,” you pleaded, “oh god, yes, please…”

He moaned loudly as his thrusts lost all rhythm, his cock moving so fast inside you that the sensation became one hot blur against your walls. Finally, as he groaned and gripped you tight enough to bruise, he spilled inside you.

As he let out a long breath and his body relaxed under you, he smiled softly. "You really are perfect, pet."

"C-can I take off the ears now? And the tail?"

"Hmm, not yet," he grinned, "we need to take a few pictures of you like this first."

He was working in the kitchen when he heard your footsteps approaching.

"Don't come in here!" he ordered you. "Wait for me at the dining table."

"Why, Daddy?" he heard you respond from the hall. He smiled just to hear your sweet voice.

"It's a surprise, babydoll," he explained. "It's almost ready-- just wait, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy," you answered dutifully, your footsteps moving to the dining area as he'd requested.

Stepping back and admiring his work, he lifted it and turned out the door to deliver your surprise: a cake, with pink frosting and one pink candle.

Your eyes lit up when you saw him holding the cake stand, being careful not to tilt it or get the flame of the candle near his long hair.

He smiled and set it in front of you, looking to your face for a reaction. Suddenly he felt self-conscious about it, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "Um, I made it myself. Sorry if the decorating isn't that nice…"

"It's beautiful, Daddy, and I bet it'll taste great, too," you beamed. "What's the occasion?"

"It's our anniversary," he replied, his voice suddenly low and dark.

He saw recognition cross your face, though you looked confused as well. The meds he'd given you throughout the year had disrupted your memories, and probably distorted your perception of the passage of time as well, but it was all necessary to get you compliant. He hoped reminding you of that somewhat violent first day wouldn't set back any of your progress.

"I've… been here a year?" you asked weakly.

"We've been here a year," he corrected, sitting down beside you and wrapping an arm around you, "but that's not what we're celebrating."

The hand on your shoulder slipped down to the underside of your arm, stroking it slowly.

"We're celebrating that a medication somebody gave you a long time ago, before we were together, is finally worn off," he explained slowly, a grin creeping across his face. "We're celebrating that the next time I come inside you, I'm gonna get you pregnant."

He didn't fuck you for three days after that, loving the way you were clearly on edge as you waited for him to make good on his promise. And he didn't blame you for being nervous about it, even if you seemed to understand that any protest from you would fall on deaf ears.

So, he was quite taken aback when you came onto him one night, bedtime cuddling quickly turning into something more as you rubbed your ass against his crotch. He hadn't even realized that you would want it all on your own.

God, you were so fucking perfect he couldn't stand it.

"What are you doing, angel?" he asked you with a growl as he grabbed your hips and forced them to still.

"Nothing, Daddy," you answered coyly. He grinned and nipped at your earlobe.

"Are you horny, babygirl? Because you're acting like a whore."

You nodded and gasped, shivering under his touch.

"Want Daddy's cock inside you?" he pressed, voice getting darker.

"Yes, please!" you begged.

He sat up and flipped you onto your back, caging you in with his arms as he hovered above you.

“You wanna have my baby?” he asked in a husky whisper.

“Yes,” you nodded your head quickly.

“Want me to knock you up, doll? Right now?”

“Please,” you whimpered.

He leaned down, almost close enough to kiss you, as his gaze wandered over your face “I don’t want it to be like the other times. None of the crazy shit, nothing rough. If I’m gonna get you pregnant--”

“Whatever you want,” you pleaded.

He kissed you suddenly, deep and slow. “I love you,” he told you quickly as he pulled back, breathless but confident.

“I love you too,” you answered without even questioning it.

He was gentle, and thorough, and patient. It was love-making in a way that was out of character for him. He lifted your legs to wrap around his hips, pushing into you as deep as he could but with a contemplative slowness; he cradled your face in his hands and kissed all over it as he praised you in whispers.

My pretty girl, my perfect little girl, gonna fill you up, gonna make you mine.

You were only moans and sobs, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer.

The first time you came was unexpected, building slowly but crashing into you all at once, judging by the way you went from softly whimpering to nearly screaming in seconds. The second was quieter, more subtle, but he could tell by the way your walls tightened around him. The third left you in tears, beyond overstimulated and broken down into a babbling mess.

“Please,” you cried, “please I need you to come-- come inside me.”

He struggled to resist that offer, but he didn't want it to be over too quickly.

“Soon,” he promised, “I’m close. You feel so good.”

You wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him close for a kiss but stopping as his mouth brushed against yours.

“Please, Bucky… please come…” you whispered.

He moaned, his thrusts getting a little more erratic.

“Need it so bad,” you whimpered, “need you to put your baby in me--”

“Fuck,” he hissed, “‘m gonna, promise.”

“Now,” you demanded through your teeth, “I need it now.”

“Not until you come one more time,” he responded. You whined and he knew you were questioning whether it was possible. “I know you can, just gimme one more.”

His angle shifted and he stayed deep within you, grinding his hips on yours just the right way to rub your clit with his pubic bone. Your back arched but he held you close, barraging you with the sensation and pressing his forehead to yours.

Your hands gripped his shoulders for dear life, as if you were afraid to fall. He smiled and kissed your neck, feeling your walls flutter around him once again.

“That’s it,” he praised, “I know you’re close. Just let go. I’ve got you.”

Tears streamed down your face as it tore through you, hitting you so hard that instead of moans it was just silence. He watched your face intently, breathing through his teeth as he summoned all his willpower to hold on just a little longer.

"Daddy!" you yelped, and he couldn't take any more: with a high-pitched, stuttered moan, he felt his cock flexed as he came harder than maybe he ever had before. Knowing that you were fertile made it all so much more intense. Normally, his orgasm just meant the end of sex-- maybe just for a few minutes on a good day. But now? Now it was the beginning of something. His perfect little angel was going to finally fulfill her final purpose and give him a baby. He'd waited so long, dreamed of it every day for years, and finally it was going to happen.

He refused to pull out or let you move until he was sure it would take; he killed the time by kissing every part of your face and neck that he could reach.

He hadn't even gotten you pregnant yet, technically, and he already couldn't wait for more children. He'd always wanted to have a big family, but he gave up on that dream years ago; meeting you had brought it all back, and made him realize that all this time he'd just been waiting for the perfect wife to start it with.

You were well worth the wait.

#dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes non con #bucky barnes x y/n #dark!bucky smut #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x y/n #dark!sebastian stan x reader

3K notes · View notes

mianavs · 4 years ago

Text

Gezellig

You were the warmth that only another person could give

Kenma x f!reader

a/n: kenma is definitely my comfort character~

wc: 1.8k

It started with an apple pie recipe.

Kenma was editing his latest play-through video for a new video game when the craving for his favorite food creeped up on him again. He considered going to the nearby bakery that sold decent mini apple pies but a glance at the clock on his computer put an end to that idea—it was midnight and the bakery had been closed for three hours.

Normally Kenma would have settled for the day old pastry on his kitchen table but the craving for apple pie had plagued him for a while now. The reason? His neighbor had baked one a couple days ago and Kenma couldn’t stop thinking about the delicious aroma that had seeped through the walls into his unit.

A hasty thought crossed Kenma’s mind and he got up from his gaming chair to wander into the kitchen. He scanned the counters until his eyes landed on the two large apples Kuroo dropped off along with other groceries Kenma let spoil more often than not. The presence of the main ingredient spurred his impulses and Kenma fell back onto his couch as he scrolled through YouTube for an easy apple pie recipe. His perceptive eyes were immediately drawn to the golden crust of the pie on your thumbnail and his fingers clicked on your video without a second thought.

In the end, Kenma never got to making the apple pie and instead binge-watched every video on your ASMR cooking channel until he passed out at five in the morning.

Kenma knew he was obsessed when he turned on the notification bell on your channel. He loved the simplicity of your videos. There wasn’t any cheesy background music or obnoxious text. Your videos were intimate and comforting with the natural sounds of your cooking or baking and the high-quality recordings. More often than not, Kenma found himself unwinding to your content after a stressful meeting with the board members or a difficult gaming session. In fact, the more he watched your videos the more he found himself closing his eyes and imagining himself in your kitchen listening to the sizzling of the sautéing vegetables or the whir of your mixer combining the ingredients of a cake. It wasn’t necessarily hard to do since the layout of your kitchen was very similar to his own.

He should have found it suspicious when his neighbor’s cooking seemed to predict the video you would upload next but Kenma wasn’t one to dwell on unnecessary things like that. So when his neighbor cooked a delicious smelling recipe, Kenma would crave it the next day and ordered it to eat while he watched your nimble hands cook a similar dish.

In the two years Kenma had lived in his unit, he’d never crossed paths with his foodie neighbor. Although considering his line of work, Kenma supposed it wasn’t too surprising. He spent most of his time in his office and only when out when necessary. So when his doorbell rang and it wasn’t Kuroo with groceries or takeout but a young woman with a sheepish look on her face, Kenma froze like a deer in headlights.

“Hi! Umm…I’m your neighbor,” she introduced herself and awkwardly held up a small bowl. “Do you have some salt I can borrow?”

“Uh…yeah, come in.” Kenma replied stepping aside to let her in. There was a softness about her demeaner that drew him in and it wasn’t until her eyes blinked at him in confusion that he realized he’d been staring.

“T-this way.”

As Kenma led his neighbor to the kitchen he wracked his brain for the location of the salt container Kuroo had bought for him to use despite never having cooked a meal in his life. It took a couple of tries flipping through cupboards before he found the large salt container and handed it to his neighbor.

“Thanks!” She accepted it and began pouring some into her bowl. “Y’know your kitchen is a lot like mine but way cleaner!”

“I don’t really use it,” Kenma admitted. “I find it kind of intimidating…cooking.”

“It is at first but it gets easier the more you do it.” She smiled as she handed the salt back to Kenma and he couldn’t help but admire the way her entire face seemed to smile. Her eyes crinkled into crescent moons while the apples of her cheeks framed her gummy smile endearingly.

“I guess that applies to a lot of things.”

“Yes, it really does! I’m a firm believer in practice makes perfect.”

With that she thanked Kenma profusely and apologized for the intrusion before slipping on her shoes and walking out the door. While it may have only been a few minutes, the impression she left on Kenma lasted much longer. He went outside more just so he could run into his nice neighbor who would always strike up a conversation with him about anything. And while he was normally not one for small talk, it never felt forced around her. She had a knack for making even the dullest subject a compelling topic and Kenma quickly looked forward to those moments outside their apartment complex, in front of the convenience store, or outside her unit.

But even those short conversations Kenma has with his neighbor reveal very little about her. So when Kenma gets a notification from your channel and opens YouTube, he drops his phone when your thumbnail picture isn’t food but rather his neighbor that he’d grown fond of. Kenma’s eyes dart to your shared wall as he comes to terms with the fact that his favorite content creator and his pretty neighbor are the same person. It takes a couple of minutes for the initial shock to pass and another twenty minutes for him to play the video in the comfort of his office and with his headset on.

You’re all smiles as you announce a giveaway to celebrate one-hundred thousand subscribers. You introduce each of the five prizes and explain each one in detail. They’re all cooking tools from one of your sponsors that Kenma recognizes from your previous videos. When you’re describing the rules to enter, the similarities between your apartment and his are glaringly obvious now and Kenma can only shake his head in disbelief. The video ends too quickly so he watches it another ten times almost convincing himself that it’s to understand the rules of the giveaway and consider each of the products despite knowing he’d never actually enter.

A week after your giveaway video, Kuroo comes over with food and drinks after a business trip. A meal and a couple of beers later, Kenma opens up to Kuroo about you and the fact that you’re not only his favorite YouTuber but his neighbor as well. The liquid courage spurs him on and Kenma talks about your gorgeous smile, soft-looking hair, and your laugh that goes from a giggle to a cackle within a matter of seconds. Always the observant friend, Kuroo notices the persistent smile on Kenma’s face as he goes on about you and urges his best friend to ask you out on a date. The thought of spending hours with you is enough to get his heart racing but his insecurities never fail to rear their ugly heads and Kenma dismisses the idea as quickly as it comes up.

Kenma drinks even more to drown his insecurities and fantasies of you while Kuroo drinks with him knowing it’s best to support him quietly like this. When the last drop of alcohol is consumed, the two friends are completely drunk and Kuroo crashes in the guest room while Kenma stumbles to his room and collapses on his bed as the world spins around him.

Your image comes to mind but it’s too hazy for Kenma’s liking so he pulls up your giveaway video and watches it for the hundredth time. You’re so happy about your channel’s milestone that Kenma can’t help but smile like a fool as you thank your subscribers profusely. It’s with lowered inhibitions that Kenma is able to scroll to the comment section and write out how much your channel means to him.

The sound of multiple notifications stirs Kenma awake to a terrible hangover. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and focuses on his blindingly bright screen to see what the fuss is about. There’s a message from his publicist asking if he’s okay but before Kenma can reply he gets a notification from your channel; however, it isn’t the typical one that lets him know you’ve uploaded a video. The notification is a heart reaction to a comment and Kenma’s heart is in his mouth as his shaky finger taps on your giveaway video.

He doesn’t have to scroll far to find his comment because it’s the first one with ten thousand likes and three hundred comments to boot. Completely mortified, Kenma reads through the comments that have a wide range of reactions. Some gush about how cute it is for Kodzuken to fanboy over your channel while others express their disappointment that their favorite gamer actually likes cooking ASMR. While they are unnerving, it isn’t the comments that worry Kenma but the little red heart you’d left on his comment.

While he doubts you knew who he was before, this comment and the crazy feedback will definitely pique your interest enough to look him up and find out who he really is. Scared of facing you, Kenma holes himself up in his apartment. To get you out of his mind, he buries himself in work and video game streams and turns off the notifications for your channel.

After a week of not hearing anything from you, Kenma thinks he’s in the clear until one evening he opens his door expecting his takeout only to find you.

You’re a sight for sore eyes and Kenma’s heart hammers in his chest as your eyes soften and you break into a smile. The aroma of cinnamon and apples wafts up to his nostrils and you raise your mitted hands to reveal the same pie that had drawn him to you in the first place.

“Your fans mentioned you like apple pie,” you explain with a chuckle. “And I still owe you for the salt.”

“My…fans?” Kenma asks, still stunned you’re talking to him despite the comment fiasco.

“Yeah, you see I needed a reason to visit my neighbor and ask him out. Luckily, he’s a famous streamer with lots of fans.” Your confidence almost hides flush on your cheeks that deepens the longer Kenma stares at you in shock.

“…Unless you don’t want to go out-“

“I do!” Kenma blurts out. “More than anything.”

Your entire face breaks into a smile. “Well then how about a pie date?”

With a stomach full of butterflies, Kenma lets you into his apartment for the second time only this time he knows what he feels for you and is comforted by the fact that you feel the same way.

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kn1feinthec0ffee · 3 years ago

Text

my pretty boy - kotarou bokuto

kotarou bokuto x nb!reader

summary: after coming home from work one day, you accidentally discover a new favorite pet name.

warnings: none

word count: 581

notes: this is PURELY self indulgent and based on a tiktok i saw where this nb person wanted their boyfriend to call them pretty boy and i heavily related to that, which spawned this so i hope u enjoy :D

(n/n - your nickname)

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

“i’m home, kotarou!” you called out, dropping your bags and slumping against the door. the combination of last nights lack of sleep and the overtime you just returned from working proved to be a recipe for exhaustion. quite literally the only thing that got you through the day was the thought of seeing the man that just poked his head out from around the corner, bounding over to see you.

“you look so tired, n/n, did they work you too hard?” bokuto pulled you into his arms in a comforting embrace you desperately needed. after pulling away, he held your face in his hands. “d’ya wanna kiss, pretty boy?”

the moment his words sunk in, your eyes went as wide as saucers. a giddy feeling filled your chest, what was it? embarrassment? no, that didn’t seem right; this feeling was far too positive to be embarrassment. why did two simple words conjure up such a complex yet gratifying emotion?

“w-what did you call me?” you uttered, your cheeks surely burning a flaming shade of red.

“what, ‘n/n’? i always call you that,” bokuto murmured, brows furrowed in confusion. “o-oh, you mean the other thing! it just kinda slipped out, i’m sorry, i won’t call you that anymore if it makes you uncomfortable, it’s-”

“no!” you blurted out, cutting him off. “it’s fine, you can keep saying it, i kinda liked it.”

although your voice trailed off towards the end of your sentence, bokuto still heard your words, but he wanted to toy with you a bit more.

“what was that? speak up, pretty boy, i can’t hear you,” he grinned wolfishly.

you blushed profusely before looking down at the ground and repeating yourself, still in a lower tone. “i said you can keep using it, i kinda like it.”

“say that again, pretty boy? i missed it,” he smiled ear to ear.

“oh shut up you heard me!” you fumed, face burning but this time out of annoyance rather than nerves.

“you’re absolutely right; i heard you loud and clear, pretty boy,” he spoke smugly, earning a dramatic groan from you. “fine, i’ll stop.”

filled with curiosity, bokuto ceased his teasing to ask a genuine question. “if you don’t mind me asking, why is it okay for me to call you that if it’s not a gender neutral term?”

you didn’t answer immediately; you had wondered the same thing yourself. when you had discovered your gender identity, you had felt uncomfortable with being referred to with both male and female pronouns, so why was it okay for your boyfriend to call you a boy? “i’m not really sure, to be honest. it just… felt nice? i don’t think i’m a guy, but i like being referred to like that sometimes.”

after a beat of silence, you were quick to jump in, lest your words be misinterpreted. “i-if that makes sense. it probably doesn’t, it’s weird, you don’t have to call me tha-”

“hey!” a finger met your lips before you could continue speaking. “you don’t have to explain yourself to me. whatever you’re comfortable with is fine by me, especially if it gets this much of a reaction out of you; you’re so cute when you blush like that!”

you groaned, cupping your face in your palms. what have i done?

planting a quick kiss on your lips, bokuto was off to the kitchen, turning over his shoulder to call out, “by the way, dinner’s just about ready, pretty boy!”

“bokuto!”

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

i’m trying to get more exposure so i’m tagging ppl that have interacted w my last haikyuu post but u can feel free to ask me to either add or remove u from my taglist!! i feel so bad every time i do this i feel so annoying ugh

tags: @asahipoopoo @elysianslove @lucieel @deadmansdoctor @mage-moon @aoi-turtle @hohoshiumi @mysterystarz @astranger83 @lexi-toquero @aestosia

not working: @akaashis-keiji @bloodydestiney

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twistedtummies2 · 3 years ago

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Top 12 Pandora Hearts Characters

Moriarty the Patriot may be my new favorite anime and manga series, but today, I feel like talking about my OTHER favorite manga (and what COULD have been my favorite anime, if it had only gone on longer): a little franchise known as Pandora Hearts. Japan has a huge following for the works of Lewis Carroll, but Pandora Hearts has probably the most unusual manner of reinterpreting the characters. The story of PH is set in a world where human beings coexist with monstrous entities known as Chains: demon-like beings who are all directly inspired, in terms of name and design, on characters from Wonderland. With a few exceptions, the characters themselves do not have the names of characters from the books; instead, it is the Chains they make bargains with, form “Contracts” with, that tell you what character from the stories they are meant to represent. It’s a cool idea, and whether you look at this franchise as a new take on Wonderland, or just look at the characters on their own terms separate from the books, they are all fun and engaging characters who are frequently much more complex than they at first seem. Now, Pandora Hearts is a series with a lot of twists and turns, so I’m going to try and keep this as spoiler-free as possible when it comes to some of the REALLY big twists, but there’s only so much I can do. So if you haven’t read the manga, or at least watched the anime, and don’t want things spoiled, just be wary in case something pops up here you weren’t wanting to know ahead of time. Also, because this is me writing this list, I will give away which characters from the Wonderland stories these characters are analogous with in their descriptions. With that said... “The time has come,” the Walrus says, “To honor them today! So here’s a list of my favorites to lighten up your day!” (pauses) Yes, I’m aware that rhyme was terrible, just run with it. These are My Top 12 Favorite Pandora Hearts Characters!

12. Echo & Noise.

Wonderland Analogues: Tweedledee & Tweedledum.

One thing you need to know about Pandora Hearts is that...honestly, like a lot of anime/manga, in my opinion...it can be rather confusing at times. The lore of this world, partially because it takes so many twists and turns all over the place, is a little hard to follow at times. I’ll try be succinct and as major-spoiler-free as possible, as I said before. With that said, these two are a prime example of how things get twisted up. Echo and Noise are essentially a classic Jekyll-&-Hyde scenario; a pair of separate identities occupying the same body. Noise, also called “Zwei,” is the original personality: a member of the mysterious and dangerous Baskerville Clan, she is, as her name suggest, loudmouthed, crazy, and rather all over the place. Noise is in control of a Chain known as “Duldee,” and the Chain is responsible for the creation of the other personality: Echo. Echo is the exact opposite of Noise: she is quiet, constantly polite, and indeed often seems to be little more than a robot, very emotionless and unnervingly calm, even in the heat of battle. As Echo, she is the unsettlingly loyal servant of one of the series’ chief antagonists, Vincent Nightray, and their relationship is...a little creepy. Vincent frequently treats her like a beloved child or pet, but he also frequently uses her for his own selfish ends, never worrying about nearly killing her in order to get what he wants, and seeming to see her more as an object than another living being. Despite this, the most upset with him Echo ever gets is calling him “annoying” (now, THERE’S an understatement), and Noise herself is absolutely obsessed with him. Their twisted relationship with Vincent, and all the fun that’s had with these two different personalities, is a big part of what gets them a slot on the list.

11. Oscar Vessalius.

Wonderland Analogue: N/A

While most of the characters in Pandora Hearts are easily identified by their Chains, some don’t even have Chains, and thus cannot be readily identified as any character from the Carroll classics. Oscar Vessalius, whom I frequently and affectionately refer to as “Uncle Oscar,” is one of those cases. Now, to be fair, Uncle Oscar is not the most complex character in this series, but he IS one of the most endearing. Oscar is the paternal uncle of our main protagonist, Oz, and considering Oz’s father is...well...a gigantic douchebag of the highest order...Oscar really is more of a father to Oz than anybody else in the series. Oscar is unflappably encouraging and jolly, and extremely protective and caring when it comes to his family. He’s always there to support Oz and his friends, tries his best to get along with everybody, and generally speaking brightens up every single scene he has. Despite this, Oscar does have a bit of a sly and sneaky side to him, as well as a slightly lecherous leaning in some cases, which keep him from being too perfect or one-note a character. While he has no direct ties to Wonderland, some have suggested that he MIGHT be inspired by Lewis Carroll himself, and there are a few subtle things that could suggest that...but either way, he’s ultimately a purely original character, and of those ranks, he’s easily one of the best.

10. Reim Lunettes.

Wonderland Analogue: March Hare.

Reim, sometimes called “Liam,” is the best friend of Xerxes Break and one of the most notable members of Pandora: a not-so-secret organization dedicated to the study of Chains and the protection of the world. Sort of a Victorian-styled Men in Black, if you will. (pauses) The Will Smith Men in Black, I should say. ANYWAY, an interesting thing I’ve noticed with many interpretations of the March Hare in Japanese culture is they tend to make him a somewhat more serious and more easily flustered character than the Mad Hatter. Reim is no exception: he’s a panicky workaholic who is frequently the butt of other people’s jokes, and tries to treat things with a no-nonsense demeanor, taking his job extremely seriously and always worried about what’s best for his employers. In some ways, one could argue he acts more like the White Rabbit, but that character is one we’ll get to later. At any rate, while Reim is constantly obsessed with his work, and frequently frustrated by Break’s antics, as well as the shenanigans of other characters, he has a heart of gold and is always there to try and help his friends and colleagues when they most require assistance. His Chain also has a pretty impressive power that one does not expect...but I mustn’t say more, or I’ll spoil something important.

9. Sharon Rainsworth.

Wonderland Analogue: Unicorn.

Another character with close ties to Xerxes Break, Sharon is an interestingly dichotomous character. She’s one of the first people we encounter in this series, and she plays a big part in the story as it unfolds...but in the early parts of the franchise, what’s interesting is that Sharon stays largely in the background. Now, at first, it seems this is because she’s one of the head members of Pandora, and Break is technically her servant; so it makes sense the others would interact more with Break than Sharon. But as time goes on, and we learn more about Sharon, we find that’s not so much the case. Sharon and Break have a brother-and-sister relationship, with Sharon seeing Break as her surrogate big brother, and Break seeing her as his little sister. The problem with this relationship is that Break will do anything to protect Sharon, and at times that can go a bit too far, as Sharon truly wants to be of use to him and prove she’s just as powerful as he is or any other major member of the team. Indeed, her Chain, Equus the Black Unicorn, has many impressive abilities, including being able to open a gateway between Earth and the Hell-like dimension of The Abyss. A lot of this dichotomy is visible in Sharon’s personality: most of the time she’s very demure, polite, sweet, and ladylike. But the more we see of Sharon, the more we become aware of other facets to her personality. She’s shown to have a tough and domineering side to her character, and has some eccentricities of her own. Most notably, she’s absolutely INSANE when it comes to romance stories and romantic situations, and holds both the standards of ladies and gentlemen in high regard. Whether she’s a soothing presence or a downright scary one, Sharon is always an interesting character to return to.

8. Rufus Barma.

Wonderland Analogue: Dodo.

There are a few characters in the frequently twisted-up world of Pandora Hearts who have a habit of constantly keeping you guessing...but the king of mystery, without a shadow of a doubt, is the Duke Rufus Barma. His analogous Chain, Dodo, is able to conjure impressive illusions, and this illusionary skill is only the tip of the iceberg in showing how this man constantly manages to make you wonder just what is going on in his head. Barma lives by the code of “knowledge is power,” and constantly seeks to learn everything he can about...well...anything and anybody he wants. Money and prestige are secondary to him. He’s very soft-spoken and cold, even when angered, and carries himself with a sense of grace that’s rather flamboyant, but somehow not exactly loud or over-the-top in the way some of the other characters can be. His exact goals and motivations are constantly second-guessed, and you’re never really sure what makes him tick or what side he’ll take. You’re never really sure if he’s a villain or a hero. I love characters like this, in general, so it’s ultimately no surprise that Rufus Barma gets a solid spot on this list.

7. The Will of the Abyss.

Wonderland Analogue: White Rabbit.

The Will of the Abyss (sometimes called “Alyss” and sometimes called “The Intention of the Abyss”) isn’t a villain we see a whole lot of. She is the queen of the Abyss; the ruler of everything there. The Abyss, itself, is the home of the demon-like chains: ghoulish entities who feed on human beings, body and soul, and are formed from those who have fallen into the Abyss in the past. The place is described as “a broken toy box” and is a horrifying limbo realm of killer dolls and psychotic puppets. Needless to say, it’s not exactly an ideal vacation spot. The Will is a mysterious and mercurial character; she’s mostly a peripheral villain, since we see more of the Chains she controls than her, herself, and much of what we DO see of her actually comes through flashbacks...but in that overall brief amount of time, she proves to be honestly the single scariest character in the series, as well as one of the saddest. Part of this is due to her mood: the Will can shift from seemingly innocent and playful to screaming like a banshee in a split-second; she can go from crying and sobbing like a sad little girl to being as refined and elegant as a proper queen. And there really isn’t a safe place with her, in any of this, either; sometimes that playful and sweet persona is a good thing, but other times...yeah, it’s...um...REALLY not. Like many Chains, she’s violent and bloodthirsty, but unlike other Chains, there’s some humanity to her and you get the feeling that a lot of her actions are justified. She’s still very much a villain, but she’s also a victim, in a way, and as the story goes on, you feel bad for her and are truly sorry when her part in the series’ events is finished. Whether she makes you whimper with terror or makes you want to hug her and console her, the Will of the Abyss is bound to get a major reaction from you.

6. Vincent Nightray.

Wonderland Analogue: Dormouse.

One of the main antagonists of the series (though not, for the record, THE main antagonist...they actually don’t appear in this top twelve), Vincent Nightray is another character who changes throughout the series. What I find most interesting about Vincent is that he, himself, changes very little. It’s more the attitude the reader has to him, in the manga, that changes. See, if you only know Vincent from the anime, or the chapters in the manga that the anime covers, chances are you find him to be a pretty repugnant person. He’s creepy, he’s treacherous, he’s responsible for some of the most screwed-up things any character in this franchise does, and that’s saying a lot. He’s totally insane, and sort of seems to be aware of it, and seems to have an unhealthy interest in his own brother, Gilbert. In fact, with how disturbing he is, and the kinds of things he tries, you start off thinking he’s the main antagonist...and, for a while, he pretty much is. However, as the series continues in the manga, and you learn more about Vincent - why he is the way he is, and what exactly he wants to accomplish - the more you come to understand him and sympathize with him. Make no mistake, Vincent is a villain; in fact, even he seems to be aware of the fact that he’s sort of a monster. But he’s the kind of villain you come to feel sorry for and realize that, if things had been different, maybe could have turned out a much better person. In a way, Vincent is a foil to the ACTUAL main antagonist. Without giving anything away, the real main villain of the series follows the opposite path: at first he seems sympathetic and endearing, but the more we learn about him and the more horrible things he does, the more we come to loathe him and want to see him kicked in the face a thousand times over. Vincent, meanwhile, we start off hating his guts, but by the time his part in the story ends, we’re sad to see him go, because we understand him and care about him, and realize not everything was his fault. I actually feel a little bad for not placing Vincent higher, but I doubt the characters above him will drastically disappoint. He may have been one of the nastiest characters in the franchise, but if ever proof was needed that Evil is a lonely course to take, Vincent Nightray could provide it.

5. Cheshire Cat.

Wonderland Analogue: Doesn’t need to be given, because IT’S HIS NAME.

Again, the Cheshire Cat doesn’t have a lot of time in the series - he gets one major arc fairly early on, appears in several flashbacks afterwards, and then makes a sudden and unexpected return much later in the story - but that doesn’t keep him from being one of the most fascinating figures in the universe of PH. Cheshire is the reincarnation of an innocent kitten who belonged to a girl named Alice; the kitten was brutally murdered by Vincent Nightray. As a Chain, the Cheshire Cat is steadfastly loyal to the Will of the Abyss, and - at least at the start of the series - dwells within a mysterious realm simply known as “The Cheshire Cat’s House.” The “house” is an eerie Victorian mansion that is literally made up of all of the worst memories the Will has, and Cheshire guards the mansion and the Will herself with ferocious zeal. It’s ironic because this is a very different take on the Cheshire Cat, in general: the character in the book, and most other adaptations, is a chaotic being who shows loyalty to seemingly no one, and while some versions lean more towards good or evil, friend or foe, than others, he ultimately isn’t an obedient housecat. He’s more of an enigmatic agent of madness. This Cheshire Cat is a totally different spin on things. He’s got human-like intelligence, for the most part, and occasionally speaks in a cryptic or evasive manner, but he’s not the puzzling imp of Carroll’s classic. He doesn’t even SMILE all that often...and when he does it’s...well...the most terrifying thing you’ll ever see. But just because he’s a very different take on the character, doesn’t mean he’s still not a good one; Cheshire’s mixture of ravenous hunger (all Chains are so), sadistic ferocity, and childlike adoration of the Will make him a very layered character. Like the Will herself, he can be very creepy and menacing, but he can also be sympathetic and sweet, since he still very much is that loving kitten whose life was cut short. In a very short time, he becomes one of the most standout characters, and despite a relatively short lifespan (so to speak), it’s clear the creators really liked Cheshire, since they tried to find ways to fit him in all over the place. It’s a sign of restraint on their parts, I’d say, that he doesn’t pop up more often throughout the franchise. When he does pop up, he’s a scene stealer, and I was always excited to see him.

4. Oz Vessalius.

Wonderland Analogue: N/A

Our chief protagonist, and another original character, Oz Vessalius is a teenager whose life is turned upside-down when, at his Coming-of-Age Ceremony, a group of depraved cultists send him body and soul into the Abyss. He makes a contract with a Chain called Alice, and escapes the Abyss, only to discover that the very short time he spent down there equated to a full decade in the real world. He is enlisted by Pandora, and the rest of the series focuses on his adventures as he tries to discover the secrets of a cataclysmic event from the past known as “The Tragedy of Sablier” - in which an entire city was somehow sucked down into the Abyss. Oz is an endearing young hero, as his youth is mixed with a curious maturity. At times he’s very silly and almost hopelessly optimistic, but at other times he shows a very fatalistic and calculating side to his personality. Part of this is due to his upbringing, as his father never showed him any love at all, and the best friend he ever really had was his own servant, Gilbert. He didn’t exactly get out much to explore the world. So while he’s lived a very sheltered life, it’s also been a very cold one. Oz works on a philosophy of acceptance, just going with the flow and trying not to let the bad things get to you...but considering he frequently claims his own life means very little to him, it’s very clear the bad things DO get to him. In fact, despite his privileged youth, he puts the lives of others vastly before his own, even when he doesn’t know them all that well. He just doesn’t like to show how much things can hurt him, and tries to press ahead no matter what. It’s a complex sort of way of thinking - being proud and unflinching and yet humble and downright self-loathing, all with a dash of youthful exuberance - and as the series goes on, and we learn more about Oz than maybe even he knows, it only becomes more fascinating. He may not be my favorite character, but he’s a fine protagonist for us to follow, and certainly worthy of high marks here.

3. Gilbert Nightray.

Wonderland Analogue: The Monstrous Crow...probably.

I say “probably” because Gilbert’s Chain, as well as his own codename, is “Raven,” which is an obvious reference to the riddle “Why is a raven like a writing desk?” I guess it’s possible both were inspirational, but the Crow is an actual creature/character in the stories, so it’s the one I choose to credit. Whatever the case, Gil is one of the other major protagonists in the series, and...this guy is freaking adorable. I know he doesn’t look it, but trust me, he’s adorable. At the start of the series, we meet Gil as a small boy, who has amnesia about his past and works as a servant for Oz. Oz is not only his Master, but his best friend, and Gil will do absolutely anything to protect and serve his “Young Master” no matter what. After Oz descends into the Abyss, Gil - blaming himself - tries to run away...and is enlisted, at a very young age, by Xerxes Break. He becomes a double-agent, working for both the Rainsworth and Nightray households, upon discovering he is actually a long-lost member of the Nightray family. When Oz returns years later, Gil is a seemingly changed man: stoic, stern, always dressed in black, smoking heavily, and rarely speaking. Very quickly, however, we discover a lot of this stoicism is a facade: underneath it all, Gil is very much still a child at heart, and even though he’s grown older, he still sees Oz as his brother and best friend, as well as his true master, and will do anything to protect and to help him. Just as Oz always puts his life ahead of others, Gil’s foremost thoughts are always with Oz and how he can help him, and the lengths he’ll go to in order to keep Oz safe are sometimes touching, sometimes hilarious, and sometimes downright heartbreaking. Gil’s “dark side” is certainly engaging - he’s a crack shot with a pistol, and has a gloomy and cynical sense of humor - but I think what’s most endearing about him are the moments...and there are surprisingly many...where we see the cracks in the armor, and this “seaweed head” shows that he really hasn’t changed as much as he often claims. Whether he’s a man of action or a man of hilarious hijinks, Gilbert Nightray is more than worthy of a place in the top three.

2. Alice.

Wonderland Analogue: Again, IT’S HER NAME.

The secondary protagonist of the series, after Oz, this Alice is a far cry from the little girl we know of from the Carroll stories. At the start of the franchise, we are introduced to Alice as a Chain known as “B. Rabbit” - a title that stands for both “Black Rabbit” and “Bloody” or “Bloodstained Rabbit.” (In fact, her full title is often given as “The Bloody/Bloodstained Black Rabbit.”) B. Rabbit is one of the most powerful Chains out there, and in her Chain form, Alice is a nigh-unstoppable powerhouse ruled by bloodthirst - a maniacal berserker whose morning star chains and massive scythe cleave through even the toughest opponents with ease. However, Alice can also resort to human form, and here she’s much more...well...human. She has the same basic weaknesses a human has, she’s not quite as psychotic (though she DOES have a nasty temper at times)...really, the only sign of her being a Chain is her ravenous hunger. Like any Chain, Alice is ALWAYS hungry, and always hungry for MEAT. Thankfully, unlike other Chains, Alice has no desire to consume human beings. Indeed, while at first she comes across as frightening and intimidating, Alice has a very vulnerable side to her; she’s lived her life without any real friends or family, since the only “family” she has is her twin, the Will of the Abyss...and, to put things simply, they don’t get along very well. Much like Oz, she often feels like she’s undeserving of other people’s care and attention, but while Oz compensates this through being charitable and caring, Alice compensates by over-inflating herself; a classic “superiority complex via inferiority complex” issue. She’s never unlikeable, however, and as the series goes on - and we come to realize that Alice’s true identity, and her status as a Chain, is a lot less cut-and-dry than we might think - she only becomes a more and more fun and fascinating character...arguably more fascinating than Oz. Indeed, it’s really Alice who drives so much of the plot of the series forward, as her whole goal in the series is to find out the truth of her past and regain her lost memories, and it’s through the team’s efforts to help Alice in this goal that so much of the story is told. Oz is really just along for the ride, at least at first. Powerful but not invincible, and easily one of my favorite takes on the title character of the Carroll stories, Alice nabs second place easily…

...But who in the great wide world could take first? That honor goes to...

1. Xerxes Break.

Wonderland Analogue: The Mad Hatter AND The White Knight.

Yep. Two characters. How is this possible? Well, the first thing to know about Xerxes Break is that he wasn’t always called “Xerxes Break.” Once upon a time, he was a knight called Kevin Regnard, who served a noble family; his Chain was called Albus the White Knight. When Regnard’s mistakes led to the destruction of the entire family, he went absolutely bonkers and became a twisted serial killer known as the Red-Eyed Ghost. Ultimately, however, his contract with Albus ended, and Regnard was dragged down into the Abyss, where the Will and the Cheshire Cat ripped out one of his eyes (...yikes…), and plotted to turn him into another Chain. Things get a bit complicated at this point, but basically, Kevin managed to escape and was thrown into another time and place upon doing so. He was taken in by the Rainsworth family, befriend Reim Lunettes, and steadily began to come out of his shell. He took the name “Xerxes Break,” because he felt “broken,” later formed a contract with a very special and powerful Chain known as The Mad Hatter (in fact, one of Break’s nicknames is “Mr. Hatter”), and crafted a whole new personality for himself: Kevin Regnard was stern, work-obsessed, and wore his heart on his sleeve. Xerxes Break is in every way his opposite. When it comes to takes on the Mad Hatter, Break is one of the best; granted, we very rarely see him WEAR a hat, but the personality of the guy speaks for itself. Break often comes across as clownish and childishly hyperactive, constantly eating sweets, performing magic tricks and weird stunts just for the sheer sake of it, prancing around and giggling like a small boy, and even interacting with a puppet he calls “Emily”...which...may or may not actually be alive. However, much of this is a facade, as underneath it all, Break is...well...broken. Not just in body (he’s much, much older and more frail than he often seems), but in terms of his mind; he’s half-crazed and extremely mercurial. Much like with Rufus Barma, Break is somebody you’re never entirely sure of, but in a different way. Break, you see, is very open and honest; he never tells lies and he makes his loyalties and disloyalties very clear. But at the same time he’s very secretive and enigmatic, often speaking in riddles and partial-truths to throw people off. He’s very cunning and intelligent, and a gifted swordsman, and will do anything and use almost anyone to get what he wants. So while he can be extremely funny, he can also be very frightening and ruthless. You’re never sure what’s going to set him off and if the next line he says is going to be a threat or a joke. And as the series goes on, and we see more and more of Break’s vulnerabilities, we only come to care about him more and more, though, at the same time, he always remains an eternal mystery. A riddle with no real answer...just like the Mad Hatter’s from the book. (Way to bring things around, don’t you think?) Whether you look at him as a version of the Hatter, or look at him just for who and what he is on his own terms, he is, in my opinion, the most well-rounded and fascinating character in the whole series, and easily takes the top spot as My Favorite Pandora Hearts Character. Xerxes Break, I doff my own topper to thee. (tips hat)

Honorable Mentions Include...

Elliot Nightray.

Leo.

Jack Vessalius.

Lottie Baskerville.

Lily Baskerville.

Ada Vessalius.

Phillipe West.

#pandora hearts #top 12 #top 12 pandora hearts characters #characters #best #favorites #list #countdown #alice in wonderland #wonderland #alice

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marybethsjournal · 4 years ago

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Flaco’s Rules (Flaco x virgin f! reader)

Summary: You come back from a long journey without telling Flaco beforehand and he teaches you a lesson.

Word Count: 2624

Warning: smut (also the first time I’ve written smut so lmk if I should write more or not lol

Here is the story link if you prefer ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/29768013

It had been about a year since you and your brother had unofficially joined the Del Lobos. That was quite a long time to y’all, seeing as the two of you didn’t like to commit to other people, y’all had always rode alone. It wasn’t so hard to be an affiliate of the gang, however. You and Billy could go wherever you pleased and not communicate with the gang for weeks on end, as long as you brought money back to the gang and spoke to Flaco when you returned to the Grizzlies. The two of you weren’t exactly the typical Del Lobos affiliates, but you were quick and accurate with a gun and had never snitched before, so Flaco welcomed you and Billy into the gang rather kindly.

This time, you and Billy had been gone for at least a month. You hadn’t intended on staying out that long, but a heist led you to France and it had taken forever to travel there. Upon your return, Flaco demanded to speak to you and Billy. Flaco always wanted to hear from you after your trips but when the Del Lobos told you that Flaco needed to speak to you, they passed along that he was much more tense, almost angry, than usual. Not much scared you in this cruel world, but an angry Flaco did.

You and Billy immediately set off to speak to Flaco in his cabin. It was a very short walk from the rest of the cabins, but the fear in the pit of your stomach made you walk much slower than normal. Billy seemed to have the same feeling.

“What do you think he’s going to say?” Billy asked you.

“He’s probably mad we stayed out this long? What else does he have to talk about? Surely he’s not calling us in to have tea, Billy.” you replied with a shakiness in your voice.

This apparently made your brother quite angry. His face went from fearful to enraged in half a second.

“He doesn’t control us. He can’t tell us what to do. We will never be his workmen. We forge our own path.”

“I agree, but we accepted his offer of protection in the Grizzlies and he expects us to follow his rules, I suppose. Just try not to make a scene. I know how you are.”

“Fuck you, I’ll make a Hell of a scene. Just watch.”

“Billy, stop”

It was too late. The two of you had reached the door to Flaco’s cabin and instead of listening to you, your twin had bust through the door without warning. He always had been hellbent on destroying authority.

“Mr Hernandez, we do not have to answer to you! You think you are better than us but old man, you are far past your prime. In fact, my sister and I have racked up bigger bounties than you already. This superiority complex has to stop or else you will find a bullet between your eyes.” Billy word vomited at Flaco.

You had looked at Billy in confusion the moment he started talking. Superiority complex? Bullet between his eyes? What was this man talking about? Flaco eyes grew dark at the rude words and you cowered in fear, planning on what to do if Flaco tried to kill him.

To your surprise, Flaco began laughing. “Oh, the little boy think he can talk big to Flaco? He think he can scare me, huh? Puffing out your chest, thinking he is a man. You are pathetic. Leave before I shoot you, I will talk with the girl. She is more reasonable than you.”

Billy scoffed. “Who do you think you’re talking to, old man?”

“Billy, go. You have disrespected him.” you said softly.

Billy huffed and puffed but he still ended up leaving.

“Now, what do you want, Flaco?” You asked. Your brother insisted on calling him Mr. Hernandez as a way of “keeping his distance”, whatever that meant, But you, well you had a sort of friendship with Flaco. You definitely had a soft spot for him. You didn’t feel anything but disdain for most men, but you liked Flaco. Maybe more than you would like to admit.

“You were gone for a long time.” he informed you, like you didn’t already know.

“I know, we didn’t mean to. We made our way to France for an art heist and we sure made you a lot of money. Would-”

“I was worried,” Flaco said softly, cutting you off. “I do not care about the money. Your cabron brother is right. You have big bounties on your head.”

You laughed lightly, not showing that you were taking his care for you to heart.

“We can take care of ourselves. Been taking care of ourselves for well over a decade, since we were very little.” you told him, looking at your shoes. You didn’t like to open up to people

“You will have to tell me about that someday. When you are ready. Anyway, don’t care much for the jackass. But you, I care for you. How did your trip go?”

“Fine, made out with a lot of money. Billy’s cockiness got us a bounty over there. That’s a first for us, being wanted in multiple countries.” “Sounds like him.” Flaco chuckled warmly.

“It was good besides that. Ate a lot of the native foods and saw beautiful buildings. I liked it there.”

“Did you find a French lover? That is what they’re known for, eh? Love?”

You laughed at him. “I think that is just a stereotype. I was too busy anyhow.”

“Too busy for love? You have a lot to learn, but you are young and Flaco is old, so it makes sense you are not as wise. Surely you had boys following you around, though? You are very beautiful.”

“I guess so.” you responded awkwardly. Truthfully, several men had followed you around during your time there, yelling things at you that you were glad you couldn’t understand. You assumed they were lewd. It all made you so uncomfortable.

Flaco sensed something was wrong and, not knowing how to comfort you, changed the subject, although not one you particularly wanted to talk about either.

“You did disobey your part of the deal, though. You understand that, yes?”

“The deal?” You asked. You had no idea what he was talking about.

“The deal we made when you joined Del Lobos. When we gave you our protection.”

Oh, that. You didn’t remember there being any specified deal, much less that you couldn’t leave for an extended amount of time, but Flaco looked angry so you decided not to question him further.

“Oh yes, I do. I’m sorry we broke the rules, Flaco.”

“Do not call me that right now. We are not friends. I am your boss. You address me as such. This is a serious thing you have gone and done.”

“I’m sorry, sir?” the term felt foreign on your tongue. You didn’t answer to anybody like this.

“Yes yes. Good. You two need to learn. Your brother, I’m afraid, I can not reprimand because he will make me angry and I will kill him. Poof, no more Billy. But you, I think I can handle you.”

Handle you? What was that supposed to mean?

“I’m not sure I understand. I really am sorry.”

“Sorry is not good enough. I have leniency because you are young and stupid. Any of my men who would do what you did? I shoot them. But you are grown, yes? Old enough to know better?”

You and your brother didn’t explicitly tell people your age for security reasons, so it was a valid question on his part, although you felt you definitely looked old enough for that generally to not be a question. But you were pretty young and you looked it.

“Yes, of course. I wouldn’t be so friendly with you if I was just a kid. That wouldn’t be exactly safe.” You tried to laugh but Flaco’s eyes were narrow and so unkind in that moment that you decided against it.

“Good, then you won’t have a problem taking your punishment.” He smiled wickedly.

“What punishment,?” you asked. Flaco furrowed his eyebrows. “sir?” you added.

He smiled once again, but didn’t let his stern exterior go. He sat down on his cot.

“Lay here.” he patted his lap.

“Oh I don’t think so” you backed yourself into his door. Flaco stayed where he was and looked at you patiently. He wasn’t stopping you from leaving. This was entirely up to you. The two of you stared at each other for a few moments. You could feel the immense tension between you and Flaco. Finally, you walked over and bent over his knee.

“Fine. I guess this makes sense. I did break the rules.” You were mostly reasoning with yourself, not Flaco.

“No, chica. Pull up your dress. You can leave your drawers on.” The request probably should have offended you, but you felt heat in your core at the thought. You tried not to show this on your face, however, and pulled your dress up before laying back down on Flaco’s lap.

“Such a good listener, you are. Wish you would have listened to my rules the first time.” his hand rubbed your ass through your bloomers before striking it abruptly. You yelped in surprise. What was more surprising was that it felt good. You’d never been spanked before, this was all new to you.

“Flaco-” you started.

“Shhh” he brought his hand down again, hard. If he kept spanking you this hard, your ass would be stinging for days.

Yet he didn’t relent. He spanked you seven or eight times, each one harder than the one before. Despite your best efforts, you involuntarily started to let out strangled moans. You cursed yourself after each one. You were in trouble with Flaco, not having sex with him.

Flaco finally stopped and you assumed he was done. However, when you got up, Flaco pulled you back down by your hair. Ugh, why did that feel good too?

“You are not learning your lesson.” Flaco hissed, obviously frustrated, but at the same time it didn’t quite feel like he was frustrated with you.

“No I promise, Flaco.” he smacked your ass once more. “Sorry, sir.”

“I need you to pull your bloomers down.” he told you sternly.

“What? No.” You may be an outlaw, but you were still a lady.

He grabbed you by the chin and forced you to look at him.

“Y/n, I’m not gonna make you but-” you nodded at him, signifying that you were okay with it. You never thought you’d be doing this but for some reason, you trusted Flaco. Besides, you secretly wanted him to keep going.

Flaco was visibly confused as to why you had nodded but had made no move to pull down your bloomers. After a few moments, he took the hint and pulled them down himself. You immediately clenched your thighs together, praying that he couldn’t see how wet you were. That however, was a massive failure.

“I think you need to explain something, mi novia.” he said, in the meantime giving you two hard slaps on the ass.

“I don’t know what that means, sorry sir.”

“It means my girl.” he told you in a soft, husky voice.

You shivered at the words. You wanted to be his girl. You wanted it badly. And he seemed to be on the same page as you. He hadn’t done this because you did something wrong and he felt it strongly needed to be corrected. No, he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

“I- well I liked it when you spanked me. I didn’t know I would, I’ve never been spanked before.”

“You’re inexperienced, huh?” Flaco asked, moving his hands from your ass to feel the wetness between your folds.

“Flaco!” you gasped.

“And expressive. I like that.”

“I’m just, oh! I haven’t done any of this before.”

Flaco pulled his hand back abruptly. He was silent and you, sure that you had done something wrong, sat up and looked up at him.

“You aren’t a virgin, are you?” he asked in disbelief.

“Ummm, yeah I am. I’m sorry, I suppose.” you got up from his lap and picked your bloomers off the floor, absolutely mortified.

“Wait, mi angel.” Flaco grabbed your arm. “It’s not a bad thing, not at all. I was surprised, is all. You’re a rough and tumble girl.” he laughed, but it was clear there was meaning behind his words. “Come back here, let ol’ Flaco make you feel good.”

You smiled and laid over him again, this time both of your intentions being clear.

“How about you sit on my lap while I help you? So I can see your face? That should be sufficient payment for the pleasure I will give you, yes.”

You would have jumped over the moon if Flaco had asked you to at that moment, so of course you did what he said and sat in his lap with your legs spread.

You never thought you’d be here, Flaco fucking you with his fingers in his cold cabin (although you felt anything but cold at the moment). You had dreamed of it, sure, but this was real life. You had never considered that Flaco had been attracted to you, but now as you felt his dick strain against his pants, there was no denying it.

Flaco fingered you at different paces depending on what he felt you needed based on your expressions. The higher and more frequent your moans came, the faster he went. When he felt it was becoming too much for you, he slowed down a bit, never losing his rhythm. He didn’t want to overstimulate you, at least this time. Flaco was good at this, surely very experienced, but you tried not to think about that. You focused on the feeling in the pit of your stomach and Flaco’s eyes, which were looking directly into yours. It was a bit intense, but it only added to the experience for you. He seemed to love it, biting down on his lip when you moaned particularly loud. At this point, his fingers were completely slick and you were fucking yourself back and forth on his fingers. The heat in your core was getting more intense and you were becoming desperate. You begged over and over for him to fuck you but he refused.

“No, angel, that is too fast. I have to come up with a way for it to be special.” More special than this? You wanted to protest but he kept fingering you the whole time, bringing you closer to your orgasm the whole time, and you couldn’t find it within yourself to argue back. Besides, a promise to get with Flaco again another time wasn’t so bad.

It didn’t take much longer for you to come undone. Between feeling Flaco’s dick strain against you through his pants and the swift rhythm of his fingers, it wasn’t longer before you threw your head back, moaning his name, and came onto his fingers. He smirked at the scene and kissed you quickly before removing his fingers.

“You were so good mi novia,” Flaco praised you, before adding, “Now put your clothes back on before you catch a cold. You need to stay warm.”

“We can- we’re gonna do this, again, right?” you asked Flaco after you put your skirt and underwear back on and started to walk out the door into the cold.

“Like I could go through this life without having you again. Silly girl.” Flaco told you before picking up a piece of wood off his table and starting to whittle as if nothing had happened.

#Red Dead Redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr #flaco hernández #flaco hernandez x reader #f reader #flachoes

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impala666 · 4 years ago

Text

The One With Mrs. Bing Part Four (It’s All Alright)

Last Part (Part Three) Series Masterlist

It was the next day and it was into the early evening, but as you made your way from the store to the coffee house the city was already dark. When you walked into Central Perk you saw Monica and Phoebe talking about something while Rachel sat at the counter with a notepad and a pen. After you hung up your jacket by the door you noticed Joey and Ross sitting over on the couch. “Hey, Rach,” you greeted her as you walked over to the counter. “Hey, Y/N/N. How was work?” She asked as she got up from her stool and walked back around to get whatever you were about to order.

“It was okay, you know. As okay a job can be when you work with people all day everyday. But at least I’m surrounded by things that I love.” You answered as you received the drink that you ordered.

“Oh, believe me, I get it on the whole working with and for people, but as for the thing I love. You can only love coffee so much when you don’t get to drink it.” Rachel told you which made you smile for the first time in a while since the whole thing with Joey lying to you about Ross kissing your mom never left your mind. “Oh, Pheebs, you’re on.” Rachel told her as she led Phoebe over to the stage to introduce her.

“...Oh come on! Just try to not picture her pregnant that’s all.” Joey said to Ross as he held up a picture for him to look at. But considering that was what you heard when you walked in on the tail end of their conversation, they had you a little confused. You weren’t totally sure if you wanted to know what they were talking about, though.

“Central Perk is proud to present Miss Phoebe Buffay.” Rachel announced, as she left the stage Joey noticed that you had made it back from work and were actually sitting near him. Last night you had slept on the pull out bed, and whenever you actually talked to him you answered with a single word, or you told him that you didn’t know what you were feeling so you didn’t want to say anything yet. But to Joey, it was killing him to not have you talking back to him.

However, for Ross this was his first time seeing you since he told you what he did. “Hey, Y/N,” he cautiously greeted you with a shy smile on his face.

“Ross,” you neutrally greeted him. You had no expression on your face, so to Ross it was hard to tell what you were feeling.

“Oh so you are mad.” Ross mumbled to himself, but slightly hoping you would hear it.

“I’m getting over it.” You mumbled under your breath like he did, and a little smile came on your face when you made eye contact with him and he had the same smile on his face when he realized that the both of you were going to be just fine.

“Does that mean you aren’t mad at me anymore?” Joey asked, perking up in his seat just the smallest bit.

“I’m still kind of mad at you, now watch Phoebe.” You told him quickly before quickly looking away from him again.

“Hi, um I’d like to start with a song that’s about a man that I recently met, that has become very important to me.

“You don’t have to be awake to be my man. Long as you have brain waves I’ll be there to hold your hand. Though we just met the other day, there’s something I have got to say...Okay, thank you very much. I’m going to take a short break.” Phoebe abruptly stopped when she noticed Monica slowly inching her way to the store, and Phoebe in a rush to follow her knocked the microphone stand down to the ground as she rushed her way out the door to beat Monica. While your eyes were glued to the door wondering what happened, you saw your brother walk through the doors as he watched two of his friends race out of the building.

“What the hell was that?” He asked, looking at only you and Joey. But when Ross tried to answer, Chandler was having none of it. “I believe I was talking to Y/N and Joey. All right there, mother kisser?” Chandler brought up as his mad face came back. Joey couldn’t help but burst into laughter, repeating what Chandler had just said. While couldn’t control the slight cringe on your face for how cold Chandler was being to one of his friends. Ross glared to Joey who just kept laughing.

“I’ll shut up,” Joey told Ross. Immediately becoming serious.

“That’s probably for the best,” you joked but slightly jabbed. Sitting forward and lightly tapping him on his knee. As you looked at your boyfriend you just saw his serious face drop to slightly sad and a little hurt at what you said. But that was less of your worries right now when you saw Ross get up from the couch and walk over to Chandler to talk to him more.

“Chandler, can I just say something? I know you’re still mad at me, but I just want to say there were two people that night.” Ross spoke. “Okay? There were two sets of lips.” After he spoke that, you weren’t sure if it was going to help or not.

“Yes, well I expect this from her, okay? She’s always been a Freudian nightmare.” Now, you weren’t a huge fan of your mom either, but you couldn’t help but think that the way Chandler tried to defend the situation was a little harsh.

“ Well, if she always behaves like this why don’t you say something to her?” Ross couldn’t help but ask. That was always the difference between you and your brother; you never had any problems telling your parents what you and think and actually tried to have a conversation with them sometimes. Whereas, Chandler was concerned, he just always chose to see your parents as evil people. You would admit that they had screwed you and Chandler up quite a bit, but you would at least like to have them in your lives a little bit. It’s not like you had another set of parents waiting to welcome you with open arms.

“It’s complicated. It’s complex. It..Hey you kissed my mom!” Chandler yelled again when he was starting to get uncomfortable like he was getting backed into a wall. Which caused everyone in the coffee house to look over at the group of you.

“We’re rehearsing a Greek Play,” Ross brushed them off which made you roll your eyes.

“That’s very funny, are we done now?” Chandler asked as he tried to take a seat next to you.

“No. You’re not gonna talk to her? You’re not gonna tell her how you feel?” Ross asked him.

“That would be a no. Just because you played tonsil tennis with my mom doesn’t mean you know her. Trust me you can’t talk to her.” Chandler was just starting to grow tired and irritated from this conversation. He did not want to talk about his mom of all people.

“‘You’ can’t? Or you can’t?” Ross asked him while pointing his finger at Chandler. “Okay, that’s my finger.” Ross chuckled when Chandler grabbed his finger and squeezed it way too tight. “Okay, that’s my knee.” Ross sank to his knee when Chandler pushed his finger harder. “Still doing the play.” He told the onlookers again. When he started groaning when Chandler pressed again you couldn’t help but get to your feet and walk over to them. Chandler was taking this way too far.

“Chandler, knock it off.” You whispered loudly at him as you placed a hand on the arm that held Ross’s finger.

“Oh, so you’re okay with mom and him kissing now?” Chandler looked down at you.

“No, of course not. But you and I both know that it’s nothing new for her, and Ross is right maybe it’s time we both called her on it. On all of it.” You were a little scared to bring this up to him, but she wasn’t going to change unless the two of you told her.

“Oh come on, not you too. I thought you moved in with me to get away from her because you were on my side.” Chandler complained now turning his anger on you as he let go of Ross’s finger.

“Oh come on, Chandler. That’s not why and you know that.” You couldn’t believe how much of a baby he was being right now.

“You know what, whatever.” Chandler rolled his eyes, deciding that if none of you were going to see things his way, then he was just going to walk away. So that’s what he did, he just rolled his eyes and walked out of the coffee shop. Leaving you there with Ross and Joey just feeling frustrated. When were you the older sibling all of a sudden?

*******

It was a little bit later in the day and you were at the apartment with Chandler while your mom came to say goodbye before she left again. “Before I go downstairs I just wanted to drop off a few copies of my book for your friends. Anything either of you want from Lisbon?” Your mom asked the both of you before she said her final goodbyes to the both of you.

“No,no. Just knowing you’re going to be there is enough.” Chandler joked, which earned him a light hit in the arm from you.

“All right. Well, be good.” She said looking at the both of you. “And Y/N I know we left off on not the best terms, but I am so proud of you for how hard you’re working for everything.” You couldn’t really believe the words coming out of her mouth. You thought she had just wanted you out of the house, but maybe she just wanted you to find your own way. And little did your family knew, that Chandler was going to be so much help with that.

“Thanks, mom.” You smiled, feeling so touched. You didn’t know your mother could make you feel that way.

“I love you,” she said as she reached up to place a motherly kiss Chandler’s cheek, “and I love you.” She said again as she placed another kiss on your cheek. But it seemed that when your mom opened the door to leave, Chandler just couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“You kissed my best Ross!” He yelled, but when he noticed you looking at him like he was crazy he realized the mistake he made. “Or something to that effect.” You nodded at him once he finally realized that what he said was weird.

“Okay,” your mom started as she closed the door again and made her way back into the living area where the two of you were. “Look, it was stupid.”

“Really stupid.” Chandler added.

“Really really stupid.” You couldn’t help but also add.

“Really stupid and I don’t even know how it happened.” Your mom said honestly to you both with a shrug. “I’m sorry, honey, and I promise it will never happen again. Are we all okay, now?”

“Yeah,” both you and Chandler said with a slight nod and a shrug. “No,” the both of you decided at the end.

You weren’t sure how long the three of you had been at it. But you and mom were finally able to talk about what happened and about you leaving and everything, which then caused Chandler to add to the fact to her that all of your lives she had never acted in a way an appropriate mom would. But finally, as the three of you walked to the door and all you wanted to do was find and talk to Joey. “You okay, kiddos?” Your mom asked when all of you were in the hallway, you smiled slightly over at Ross when you noticed him across the hall.

“I’m okay.” You told her with a small smile as she placed both of her hands on each side of your face and pecked you on the forehead.

“Yeah, I”m okay.” Chandler also smiled his answer down at her.

“Alright, be good.” She kissed his cheek again. “And watch out for your sister, alright?”

“Oh, I know. She’s just too wild.” Chandler joked with your mom as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you couldn’t help but smile mockingly.

“Fly safe.” You told her as Chandler and you started following your mom down the hall, but all of you stopped when you all saw Ross awkwardly standing in the hallway.

“Mrs. Bing.” Ross greeted her, not really looking her in the eye.

“Mr. Geller.” Your mom repeated before turning back to the two of you and winking to you for the progress that she was already making before she finally left.

“Have you seen Joey?” You asked Ross as he knocked on Monica’s door. You just wanted to see him after giving him the cold shoulder, that you think you have gotten over. Plus you wanted to leave Ross and Chandler alone after the hellish week they both had.

“Yeah, I think he’s downstairs somewhere.” Ross let you know. You smiled at him.

“Thanks, I’ll go find him.” You looked from Ross and to your big brother before you patted him on the back lightly and then made your way down the stairs to find Joey.

When you had found him, Joey was standing on the steps to the entrance of the apartment building. When Joey turned around to see who was walking out the door, he smiled when he saw it was you. You didn’t say anything right away, you just walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders and brought him into a hug. “Hi,” you said. Your voice muffled from hiding your face in his shoulder.

“Hey.” Joey smiled to himself as he rubbed your lower back. “So you talked to your mom? He felt you nod against his shoulder. “How’d it go?”

“Long.” You answered with a long sigh as you stepped back but when you felt Joey take both of your hand you smiled as you looked up into his eyes. “But I wanted to come find you and tell you that I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? I’m the one who lied to you,” Joey chuckled smiling down at you.

“I just felt bad for being mad at you, sometimes you’re too cute to be mad at. But sometimes I can’t help it. But if you lie to me again I will kill you.” You told him as you placed a kiss on his lips.

“I love you.” Joey told you before he kissed you again. If you didn’t know better, Joey would look like he was drunk based from the look he was giving you, but you knew that it was because he was beyond happy.

“I love you, too.” After kissing a little bit more. Joey had asked if you wanted to go to bed, and you couldn’t say no to that, so Joey opened the apartment building door for you and ushered you inside before grabbing your hand a quickly dragging you up the stairs.

#friends #friends rewrite #Joey Tribbiani #joey tribbiani x reader #reader #bing!reader #sister!bing #chandler bing #ross geller #rachel green #monica geller #phoebe buffay

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jpegjade · 4 years ago

Text

Confessions - Spencer Reid

frens and ferns, IM OUT OF SCHOOL FOR A MONTH. so here’s a new fic about something i’ve been struggling with lately...

summary: With emily gone, Spencer is having a hard time coping with her death. After a little prodding, he finds comfort in y/n, who is struggling with their own demons.

gender: neutral (i think. i tried not to point to any gender terms so hopefully i did okay at it bc i dont feel like proofreading.)

Warnings: talk of addiction but nothing more

———

Getting home from a case was always, hard on you. There were days when it was harder to get up in the morning because of the physical and emotional toll the job put on your body. Ever since that un-sub broke your ankle, everything has been even harder.

“Y/L/N, nice to see you back." Morgan said as you exited the elevator.

“You too, D." You said, plastering a fake smile on your face. In truth, you wished that you were off for one more week but the world wasn't that kind to you.

The doors to the elevator were slowly closing when you heard Spencer shuffling quickly toward your direction.

Before you had the chance to throw your arm in the way of the elevator sensors, Spencer's slender body slipped through.

You were a newer member to the team. Well... You were the only new member to the team. Being a replacement for agent Emily Prentiss, the team getting to know you was a process. Derek trained you so he already knew what you were like in action but this was the first case the rest of the team saw you on.

The silence in the elevator was loud and thick with anticipation. Spencer was looking over at you in quick glances when he wasn't staring at his converse.

“You didn't press a number." Spencer said, barely loud enough for you to hear.

"Oh... I guess that explains why if felt like I was going nowhere." You chuckled at your joke and winced when you met Dr. Reid's blank gaze.

"Do you..." He paused.

Spencer shook his head, clearing the thought from his mind. You continued staring but he dropped his gaze back to his shoes as if he hadn't started and dropped a question.

The elevator doors opened, showing an empty garage. The two of you gestured for the other to exit first but you ended up going first.

“Did you want to ask me something. Dr. Reid?" You said, watching him hesitate.

"Spencer." He said, ignoring the question. "My friends call me Spencer."

"I didn't think we were friends yet." You blankly. It wasn't meant to be funny but you couldn't help but smile.

“My team consists of my friends. As you are on my team, we're friends." Spencer's face never changed.

"Okay, Spencer." You looked at him. If you weren't so worried about getting home, you would've indulged in the moment. But all you wanted to do right now was be alone with some pizza and take the edge off from today.

"If that's all..." You tried to close the interaction with him by taking a few steps back but Spencer took just as many slow steps forward.

"Actually," Spencer began, "how do you do it?"

You faked a chuckle. "Do what?"

“Hide your addiction so well." Spencer was so pointblank sometimes.

"What are you talking about?" You tried to control the beads of sweat that threatened to pool.

"Everybody knows.” It's your ankle that started the painkillers and you couldn't stop. It took you away from the pain, the humiliation.

“How could you be so stupid as to get caught? You're even dumber for finding solice in the feeling when you've got all of this support around you? You've got a family who..." Spencer trailed off.

Your head was still reeling from the beginning of his statement. Everyone knew... But how could that be? It wasn't obvious but something was off about the distant look in Spencer's eyes. It was like he wasn't looking or talking to you. The anger laced in his tone wasn't for you...

“Spencer," you took a step towards him, "Are you talking about you?" Spencer stopped talking. You weren't used to seeing him so quiet.

"It's been a while." Spencer looked down at his converse. "Emily was there. When it got bad, I would cuddle up with her cat on her couch and try to forget the thoughts. She wouldn't make me feel like a burden at 2 a.m., when I was screaming myself awake. She always told me to stay as long as I needed, even when I was positive she was fed up with me. I wish I believed her. I wish I stayed." Spencer tapered off into silence, sniffling.

A pipe dripping. Footsteps in the stairwell. A car alarm chirping. All of those things sounded louder than they normally would. This wasn't Spencer cornering you. This was a confused and hurting boy that was begging for help. He just didn't know how to say what he needed right now.

“Do you..." You started but stopped because it didn't feel right.

Where do you start with someone who is just like you: broken, hurting, and alone.

How do you comfort someone without enabling them to do something destructive that might make everything worse?

How do you avoid hurting someone when all you wanted to do was hurt yourself, in a way.

"Do you like pancakes?" You asked, startling him out of his thoughts. "Pancakes? Sure." Spencer slowly lifted his head and shrugged.

You started walking to your car, motioning for Spencer to follow.

The car ride with Spencer was filled with silence. The whole time, you were thinking about ways to explain the situation to Spencer without making it worse. Spencer was trying to decide if talking to you was a good idea after all, considering you were taking him somewhere pancake related.

Pulling up to the run-down diner, you looked over at Spencer, who was staring out the window.

"I promise the pancakes are better than the place looks." You chuckled, getting Spencer's attention.

"I wasn't really worried about the taste of the pancakes..." Spencer trailed off.

"Good, I guess." You said, a little bit defeated.

You and Spencer walked into the diner, where you were greeted by a friendly older woman named Janice. She knew your name by heart, since you were a regular, and she seated you at your normal booth.

"Actually, would you mind seating us at 12? This is Spencer, the guy I've told you about..." You blushed, hoping you said everything low enough for Spencer not to notice. His mind was elsewhere so he wasn't listening as he normally would. A part of you was grateful for that.

Janice did a once-over at Spencer, softly grinning, and brought you to table 12.

Despite the outside looking dingy, the inside of the diner was cleaner than Spencer thought it would be. He wasn't really fond of booths but these weren't the pillow seat booths where children could hide things between the bottom seat and the backrest. This was the plastic seats that hurt your butt after a little while. But what he noticed that was different about the seating at the table was that one half was a booth and the other half consisted of two four-legged chairs.

"I know you don't like the germs in booth seats so I figured this would be a better option." You said, unable to meet his eyes.

Spencer was shocked as you slid into the booth seat, avoiding his eyes. Spencer pulled out his chair, temporarily distracted by the fact that he never mentioned how much he hates booth seats. You paid attention and noticed that about him. What else had you noticed?

"So..." Spencer folded his hands in his lap nervously.

"Let's order and then we'll talk." You said, trying to focus on the task at hand.

Placing your orders, you went with your usual breakfast at midnight and he just ordered the same thing you ordered.

"It'll be good, I promise." You said, giving him a small smile.

"You never answered my question." Spencer said, looking up at you.

"I know." You were getting nervous again. The nerves hadn't stopped since Spencer asked that question in the parking lot but you were trying really hard to find an answer to it.

"How do you do it?" Spencer asked again.

"Spencer, it's not that simple. I can't give you an answer like that over something so complex. Why do you want to know?" You asked, trying to focus on meeting his eyes.

Spencer's gaze was intense when he wanted it to be so you settled for staring at the tip of his nose.

"I'm struggling, y/n. Emily was... She was family to me. If Hotch is the dad, Rossi is the cool uncle, JJ is the mom, Derek is the older brother, and Emily is..." Spencer's voice caught in his throat. "Was the big sister. I lost a sister the day she died and I'm lost without her."

"Spencer, I'm so sorry..." You said, wanting to hug him.

A tear slipped down Spencer's face as you watched him frustratedly wipe it away.

"It's not fair, you know?" Spencer continued. "I survived the worst days of my life. I got to live after experiencing torture and she didn't do anything but fall in love with someone who wasn't..."

There was a moment of silence as you let Spencer get his feelings out. While the two of you said nothing, Janice brought your food and drinks to your table. She must have sensed the tension between you and Spencer because once you thanked her, she didn't hover or make additional conversation.

"It just hurts and I don't... I don't want to feel it. I just want to escape the constant pain and be happy again, just for a little while. It doesn't have to stay forever but I don't want this pain to hurt like this for now." Spencer cut into his pancakes, taking a bite. His face changed into something of contentment.

"I come here when I have a... I guess you could say craving." You started, "Carbs and sugar are good for the itching feeling you get when you really need a fix."

A moment passed as the two of you enjoyed the food in front of you. After downing half of your food, you decided to speak again.

"What's your drug of choice, if you don't mind me asking?" You quietly said, your eyes staying trained on the way your butterknife slowly cut into your pancakes.

"Dilaudid." Spencer was so upfront about it. You thought you would have to pull it out of him but he made your job easier.

"Ah... Opioids are a bitch to kick. Controlled substance so I won't ask how you got it but I understand it's not easy. There was this study we had to do in training. This one agent got captured and tortured and the BAU had to watch as he was drugged, tortured, and almost died... I guess you would know them, right?" You asked, trying to figure out which team member it was.

"That was me." Again, Spencer being upfront.

"Oh...Spencer, I'm so sorry... I didn't know." You were remorseful, you shouldn't have brought it up.

"That's where it began. I begged for him not to do it the first time, not wanting the drugs. But after that? After the torture and pain and... Everything? I craved that release. And even after he died, I just wanted to get away from all of the stress in life. Feel warmth in my veins, mentally zoning out for just long enough to reset my mind and be reminded that there was something good in the world..." Spencer looked over your shoulder but his eyes weren't fixed on a particular spot.

That's the thing about being an addict... You don't realize how much it hurts to be alive until the high sends you crashing back down. And, especially in our line of work, all you want is to stay up for as long as possible because the horrors of reality will tear you apart..." You finished.

Spencer's attention came back to you as you spoke, making you a little uncomfortable. You couldn't meet his eyes.

"I went to a couple meetings in the past." Spencer said, thinking about his experiences there. "I didn't feel like I belonged. I have a good life. Stable job. I'm fortunate enough to have a roof over my head. My mom is taken care of by capable people. I don't have to worry about anything. And the guys there? They're struggling in many cases. They're fighting for the things I take for granted and I didn't know how I could stand to be in the same room with my privileges and pretend like my problem was important..." Spencer trailed off.

"Spencer, your addiction is valid." You were finally able to look him in the eyes and emphasize your point.

"Is it, though?" Spencer stared back at you, a challenging tone laced his voice.

"It's not fun..." You started, unable to look at Spencer any longer. "I don't do it for fun or because I want to stay high. I don't do it for the feeling it gives me. I do it because I feel like I have to."

"What do you mean?" Spencer tilted his head like a puppy who was trying to understand a new word.

"After I broke my ankle, I was prescribed these... Off brand pills. They didn't really help unless I snorted them. And even then, they didn't help my ankle or me. So I found something stronger. A friend of mine is a doctor and when I go to see him, I'm able to... I guess manipulate him into giving me the good stuff, the stuff that makes my thoughts slow down, calms the voice, gives me a sense of peace and not this constant anxiety." You said, hands tapping the table.

"Oh..." Spencer said, taking in what you were saying.

"I'm an addict not for pleasure but for pain. And my struggle is no greater or lesser than yours." You said, fingers still tapping away. "I struggle, like you, except the difference is I'm newer to the team so they don't know what it's like to see me in my chaotic neutral state. What did you do when you had cravings before? You must have been clean for a couple years now, right?"

"I went to Emily... I always went to Emily. I play back these moments when I snapped at her for wanting to help and I wish I just..." Once again, Spencer's voice was caught in his throat.

"She was your safe space when you felt like you couldn't turn to anyone else." You said, understanding. "You don't have to be romantically inclined to have a safe space with someone. It's whomever you find solace in, for any reason under and over the sun."

"I wouldn't feel this way if she were here..." Spencer said, more to himself as if he were trying to be convincing.

"Spencer, you have to be honest with yourself. If it wasn't this, it would be something else. And that something else might not have landed you with someone who was willing to assist you in your recovery to stay clean." You said, finishing your pancakes.

"What?" Spencer did a double take. No one had ever offered to help him. He always had to be the first to make the move but even then, everyone was reluctant to take on the responsibility of Spencer.

"Isn't there an unspoken rule about addicts not being with each other?" Spencer asked, genuinely concerned.

He hoped not because he would love to have someone he could finally confide in, someone who wouldn't make him feel like a burden.

"No, that's about addicts not dating each other. But I think that as friends, we can understand each other in ways others cant. We can fight together. Have you notiiced the craving is gone, for the most part?" You asked, sure that Spencers single slice would be gone in a moment.

"Okay. Deal. We can confide in one another and maybe it'll help us get a grip on reality when we feel ourselves slipping.”

“Okay.”

—

taglist: @goldentournesol @averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff

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ljstlr · 4 years ago

Text

Unspoken Words.

vernon (hansol) x reader

genre: angst

! tw: cigarettes, alcohol, bullying.

words: 2119

——————————————————————————

You can’t exactly explain how this set-up happened. It was 3 in the morning and you were smoking cigarettes with the guy who lived next door at the back of a convenience store. The vibe that the night gave was spectacular and you both sat there in silence.

There was only 4 hours left until school starts so you and your ‘friend’ smoked your last cigarette and called it a day. You walked back to your houses and he nodded at you when you reach your front porch.

He gave you a faint smile and you gave him one back. You quietly tip-toed to your room and immediately fell asleep with the contact of your bed.

By the afternoon, you were trying hard to keep up with the conversations in your lunch table. Everyone was talking at once and it was hard to focus on just one. When you were about to speak to make everyone shut up, you saw something that caught your attention.

Vernon was being dragged by the collar once again by the same group of boys. You watch as they push him around and have evil laughs come out their mouths. The pain in Vernon’s face was evident but he never fought back.

And you wondered why.

The chaos eventually stopped when a teacher stepped in and assisted Vernon away from the scene. You always felt bad for him, but you never felt like it was your place to speak up about it.

The faint sounds of rocks tapping your window was a signal from your neighbor that he was ready to go to the usual spot. You blinked your lights twice to tell him that you were coming.

You unlocked the house door as quite as possible and you saw him sitting in the sidewalk as he waited for you. He gave you a smile as he stood up and dusted off the dirt on his pants. You offered one back.

As usual, the walk to the store was quiet. You watched as he pulled out his fake ID to purchase a pack of cigarettes and a few beers. The two of you then hid behind the store and sat at the usual spot to consume the products that he recently bought.

The smoke from the cigarettes surrounded your vision. The two of you weren’t that addicted to smoking and a pack would usually last you both a week. The silence was relaxing as you felt the alcohol pass through your throat for the first time that night.

Hours passed and the usual four hours before school starts mark came so you signaled him that it was time to go but he gestured you to stop and sit down for a second.

“(y/n), I need to tell you something.” You were taken aback when the boy spoke to you. These were the first words that he ever told you after months of hanging out at midnight.

“Hit me.” You told him which put a smile in his face. You were yet to know that he was glad to finally hear your voice after the longest time.

“I’m moving out of the state.” He spoke and you were … in disbelief. Your heart felt as if like it sank and you can’t exactly explain why.

Maybe because he became your safe zone where you could be yourself for a moment. Although words were never exchanged, you considered him as someone who’s close to you because he never once judged you for enjoying things like smoking or drinking – he even joined you to it.

“Can I ask why?” You replied and he nodded.

“My guardians found out about the bullying in school. They want to take me away to another state for a clean start.” Vernon explained and you frowned.

Vernon obviously was considered an outcast at school. He was silent and that made stupid bullies push him around because he never talked back. They would even bring up the boy’s dark past, but he still remained quiet. You honestly hated it, but who were you to judge him when you barely knew anything about him?

“How long until you leave?” You ask and you were scared for the answer.

“A week.” And you can’t deny that you wished that a week would never come.

In the morning, you woke up ahead of your alarm to get ready for school. Your parents were in shock seeing you leave for school so early when you were always a late comer – they’d have to drag you to the bathroom in the usual mornings for you to leave your bed.

But you couldn’t afford to be late. You had to spend time with him before he left. A smile was painted on your face as you ran towards Vernon who was a few steps ahead from you. He was shocked to see you.

“(y/n)?” He spoke with a clear indication that he was confused on why you were interacting with him. It wasn’t midnight, and it was clear day.

No one knew that you were friends with him. That would ruin you.

“Let’s walk to school, don’t want to be late.” You simply responded and he stood in his spot still confused. But nevertheless, he couldn’t contain his smile as he walked fast to catch up with you.

And there it was, the stares. He felt nervous as people started to chatter, laugh, whisper, and look at the two of you. But you didn’t care, and Vernon saw that. He was left in awe as you ignored everyone and kept walking with him.

Suddenly, your path was blocked by a very familiar set of men.

“Are you fucking serious, (y/n)?” Minghao spoke in a harsh tone.

You hated the term, but you were part of the students who were considered popular. And your group of friends valued their reputation like a saint on a pedestal, so other students seeing you with someone like Vernon would cause them problems.

“Yes, I am, Minghao. And if you don’t leave him alone, God knows what little secret of yours I’d tattle that’ll ruin the shit out of you.” You responded bravely and quickly took a hold of Vernon’s arm to walk away.

Vernon could feel his heartbeat racing in his chest; he even felt like it would jump out and just collide with yours but that’s anatomically impossible, right?

You spent the entire day at school with Vernon. And you loved every second of it. Every time he spoke, he made you laugh and smile. And every single word you would say, he’d listen carefully. You wished you spent more time with him like this.

The smile you showed to everyone that day was more genuine than ever and even the people around you noticed that. Vernon, he really just made you feel like you’re over the moon.

Vernon felt the same way as he watched you talk about your favorite band while munching on your yogurt. He was pretty sure that the ice cream shop’s employees were bothered by you being really talkative, but he showed no care.

He loved seeing you like this.

The days flew by fast, and you grew so much closer to Vernon in that short span of days. When you were together, it’s like the people around you don’t exist, and the world was made only for the two of you.

You were in the park today. You sat down on the swing as Vernon insisted to push the swing for you as you both waited for the sunset. The calming silence coming back once again after days and days of just talking.

“Vernon, can I ask you something?” You asked; eyes focused on the sun that’s about to set.

“Hit me.” He chuckled as he mimicked your first words to him.

“How come you never spoke up to the bullies...?” He let out a sigh when you finished your sentence.

You felt the swaying of your swing put to a halt as he sat down on the swing seat next to yours.

“My parents were everything to me back then, (y/n).” He spoke and you could see the tears that were waiting to break free from his eyes.

“Before my mom died, her last words to me were ‘don’t you ever be a prey, son.’” He let out a faint laugh.

“And so, even if I was being pushed down, dragged around, whatever shit they gave me. I never talk back cause if I do, it’s an indication to them that they’re getting to me.” He paused for a while to appreciate the beauty of the sunset.

“That’s why they won’t leave me alone, (y/n). They hated that I never once fought back or told them to stop, because they want the inferiority complex to know that they have a prey, but I didn’t give them that.” He took a deep breath.

His parents were preys of the rich people when he was younger. They were wrongfully pinpointed with being drug addicts that was causing the chaos in the neighborhood and everyone believed that because they talked back.

They tried to fight for themselves and the rich knew that they had their prey. Which lead to their unjustified execution and left Vernon parentless. He loved his parents with his whole heart, but he refused to go down the same road as them.

“(y/n), with words being left unspoken, you’re much safer that way.” He finally turned to look at you and gave you a smile.

You smiled back and took a hold of his hand. His heart started racing once again.

“As the sun sets tonight, I want you to set away everything that has happened here, Vernon. Every single thing.” You whispered to him.

In the back of your mind, you never wanted him to forget you. But he’s already been through enough and he deserves that.

You could see the same reaction in his eyes. He didn’t want to forget about you, hell, he even wants to stay back for you.

But he knows you wouldn’t like that.

“And as the sun rises tomorrow, I want you to rise up and kick ass in the new life you’re about to have.” He laughed as you finished with your words.

You squeezed his hands and it caused him to hold tighter onto yours. And you were glad he couldn’t hear the loud beating that your heart was going through right now.

“You deserve a clean start, Vernon. You have a heart of gold and the best things in life belongs to you.” You reassured him.

You felt him move closer to you and you don’t know how your heart is still alive at this point. But you moved closer as well until the gap between the two of you eventually closed.

As the sun sets in the background, you shared a passionate kiss.

The next day, you watched people lift heavy boxes onto a moving truck next door. You couldn’t bring yourself to come down and say goodbye to Vernon because you’re scared that you might get down on your knees and beg him not to go.

And for the past days, that’s what Vernon has been waiting for you to do. Especially since the kiss last night, he hated to leave you all alone in this town. But he knows you well and you don’t want to hold him back. He sighed as he closed the door of his house next to you one last time.

Before getting into the car, he looked up to your window and saw you watching him. He waved you goodbye and so did you.

“Until the next time that we meet.” You mouthed to each other which caused the both of you to share a laugh one last time.

He smiled through the pain and finally got inside their car. You watched as the cars and trucks leave their driveway and he was officially gone. You laid down on your bed to look up in the ceiling, but you felt something uncomfortable under your pillow.

You sat up and removed the pillow near the bedframe and you saw an almost crushed cigarette box resting under.

You picked up the box and saw that there were three remaining cigarette sticks inside. You shook the box and the sticks fell directly in your palm.

You noticed a blank ink residue, so you used your finger to rotate the sticks and you saw that each stick had written words in them.

To my dearest (y/n), the first stick wrote.

The sun of my life, the second stick wrote.

I love you. the last stick wrote.

You let go of the first two sticks for a while and hold on to the last stick. You felt a tear come out of your eye as you read the words over and over.

“I love you too, Vernon.” And just like how your story with Vernon started, it ended the same way,

With words being left unspoken.

#vernon fic #vernon x reader #hansol x reader #hansol fic #seventeen fic #svt fic #seventeen scenarios #svt scenario #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #svt vernon #svt hansol #vernon #hansol #kpop fic

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malereader-inserts · 5 years ago

Text

Flatmates

Fandom: Avengers Pairing: Steve Rogers x Male!Reader Summary: And they were flatmates.... Word Count: 1,051 A/n: Based on this Reddit post

Steve and you have been flatmates for two years now.

You know his superhero background, it’s not hard, but sometimes it is overwhelming to see him all bruised up from a mission. It’s not uncommon for you to be alone in your apartment complex because of his missions. But, you’d like to say that you and Steve got on well.

Truth be told, you were gay as hell for Steve Grant fuckin’ Rogers. However, you did not know where Steve lies on the dating scheme. So, you shrugged it off, bumped his shoulders and say “Good morning best friend!”. Steve does consider you as his best friend, you’ve been through shit together.

Here’s the thing with Steve, he is clueless. He doesn’t know where he lies within dating, who he is attracted to or if he is attracted to anyone. But, you were pretty close to each other, Steve has observed that you don’t bring anyone home or even mention about you dating - somehow Steve was thankful that you weren’t involved with that.

“You’re really the best thing that’s happened to me,” You mention off-handled, putting a mouthful of popcorn in your mouth as you and Steve chill on Friday’s movie night.

Steve looks at you, “Oh, are you sure about that?”

You looked at him, your attention from Top Gun turns to him as you brightly smile, the television light being the only thing to illuminate your face. Steve can’t help but smile back, his heart was racing - thumping against his ears.

“Of course, Steve,” You nodded, “You get me through my shit days, times when I’m panicking. Life’s been better since you’ve been around.”

Steve doesn’t say anything after, you give him another smile before turning back to the movie. He doesn’t think too much of it, you had caught him once thinking too hard that you teased him - “Don’t think too hard, Steve, you’re going to give yourself brain damage.”

But, suddenly you’ve started calling him terms of endearment but honey had been the common one. It was unexpected, and Steve choked on his own saliva as you were washing the dishes you called him honey and asked him if he could dry the dishes off.

He nodded mutely, hoping you miss the hot red blush his face.

“I don’t see a problem here,” Sam said bluntly, as Steve looks at him with a gaping mouth.

Natasha chuckled, “I think it’s cute,” Shrugging her shoulders as Clint tilts his head to her direction, agreeing.

“Nat doesn’t find most things cute, so if she thinks that’s cute then yeah - I agree with her,” Clint says, shrugging his shoulders before giving Steve a tight smile of reassurance, “Plus, honey is cute.”

“Yeah, well, how am I supposed to function when he says, ‘you’re honey because honey is sweet, just like you?’ I just don’t know how to react?” Steve exclaims as Tony walks into the room with an amuse look on his face.

“Sounds like you need to start accepting compliments, Rogers,” Tony smiles, patting him on the shoulder, “You’ve told us stories of your flatmate, he seems like a nice person - what’s the matter with that?”

“Because he’s afraid to admit to himself that he’s found himself in love with the man,” Rhodey says bluntly, his arms crossed over his chest as Steve looked panicked, “Oh, please, Steve, you’re like a little ray of sunshine when he makes your breakfast, the fact that you’re blushing when you’re retelling the tale that he calls you lovey dovey nicknames, says a lot that you’re crushing on him rather than embarrassed.”

“I don’t love him,” Steve says, as if it was common knowledge however, everyone in the room raised an eyebrow towards him, “Not that I know of?”

“Steve,” Bucky says, a small smile creeping on his face, “How do you feel when he calls you honey? How do you feel when he’s home and when you’re together watching a movie?”

“Well, I feel...nice? I guess, I mean you call me honey, Bucks, but it doesn’t feel like how he says it. I feel fuzzy inside?” Natasha had to hold back a sigh, “I like it when he cuddles up to me when we’re watching a movie, I miss him when he’s in the next room - like, I just want to be with him all the time?”

“Steve.” Bucky looked at him with a look, “Are you serious?”

Steve looked confused, his eyebrows knitted tightly together before undoing as his shoulders relaxed, “Oh shit,” He says softly, “I think I love him.”

“Well, go tell him!” Natasha shouts at Steve, who nods.

“Careful on the way out!” Sam jokes.

Steve leaves the room, to confess his feelings for you. Hoping it’s not too late.

Steve and you sit in total silence as Steve hesitantly eats his second slice of pizza, his favourite movie playing on the tv. There was the occasional side glance from Steve, but you seem more content in watching the film. As Steve leans back to relax as best as he could, your hand had landed on his. Turning his slightly so you could hold his hand, your face softening.

“You know I thought you would be coming to tell me that you had enough of the nicknames,” You admitted, drawing your eyes away from the screen, “In fact, I never knew if you were into men, let alone me.”

“I was figuring myself out.”

“That’s okay,” You say with a soft calming smile, “I’d wait for you, you’re the only person I rather have than anyone else, as cheesy as that sounded, I would have waited for you. I don’t mind, take your time.”

Steve doesn’t cry often, but he did then, there was acceptance in your words, reassurance within the tone and love within the words. You open your arms as he accepts the hug, you chuckled lightly as you rubbed his back gently.

“You know, there’s a lovely bakery I’d love to take you to, you know, if you wouldn’t mind?” You asked, there was a hushed tone to your voice as Steve pulls back from the hug, his face tear stained. You give him a helpless smile as you pressed your thumb against his face wiping away the tears.

“I’d love to come with.”

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x male!reader #x male reader #Avengers #avengers imagine #avenger imagines

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miss-smrxtiee · 4 years ago

Text

-Vacationing with Distance-

Ch.4 - frustration & ice cream.

Open Heart AU

Ethan x F!Mc (Eliana Valentine)

Ch. Summary: Ethan’s trip makes its second stop and Bryce and Eliana have their first checkup. Will the baby be healthy or will Eliana’s health take a turn for the worst?

Warnings: Pregnancy, illness.

A/N: I hope you all enjoy chapter 4 of VWD! I’m really sorry it took so long I’m working a lot on new fanfictions and this got pushed back but it’s here now and I hope you enjoy! -Sol

-Masterlist- (other chapters are here!)

***

“Now Landing in San Francisco, California. Thank you for choosing Delta Airlines.” The flight attendant’s voice rings out through the plane as people start collecting their things. Ethan takes his personal belongings and lays them inside his carry-on before grabbing his phone to shoot a quick text.

Ethan: Hey E, we just landed for our second stop, I haven’t heard from you in a bit and I really miss your voice. I’m gonna call you when we get checked in ❤️

Ethan lets out a frustrated sigh, she had her read replies off so he had no way of knowing if she was actually seeing his messages.

Ethan and Naveen get up out of their seats and make their way down the cramped isle. Harper had an unexpected emergency at the hospital with one of her patients who needed a surgery from her as soon as possible, so she ultimately cut her time on the trip short.

Wish I could could just leave too...

“Ethan, hurry!” Ethan heard Naveen call from the exit of the plane. Ethan runs a hand through his hair before following Naveen out.

_____———_____——-______——-____

“I’m sorry to say but, you have gestational diabetes.”

“Oh nononono” Eliana paced around the room while Bryce tried to calm her down

“Diabetes?”

The doctor nods.

Meanwhile, Eliana’s mind is running a thousand miles a second...

I’m pregnant, I’m actually pregnant! I have to get medical attention now, great. Me and Ethan had never talked about kids... I don’t even know if he wants kids! WAIT! What if he doesn’t want to have kids!?! I’m so dead. If I call him he’s gonna know...

“Eliana? Hellooo! Earth to Dr. Valentine!”

She hangs her head in defeat.

“Gestational diabetes is a very common diabetes found in pregnant women.” The doctor explained.

“Will she be okay?” Bryce asked. He didn’t know a lot of terms for pregnant women, he was a surgeon after all.

“I assure you, it’s very treatable. You do need to keep your blood sugar in check which might be the hard part.”

“Don’t tell me...” Eliana started.

She gives a sad smile and nods.

Needle pricking...

“Here is your portable machine that detects the levels of your blood sugar, you need to do this 2 to 3 times a day, preferably 10 minutes or so after a meal, but that part is not one-hundred percent necessary.”

“Meds?”

The doctor nods and hands over a prescription paper. They go over the antibiotics for treatment and eventually leave the room to schedule another appointment. They give their thanks and goodbyes and find themselves driving in complete silence a few minutes later.

“Soooo...” Bryce begins. “Eliana, you need to tell Ethan. Everyday that goes by is hurting the baby, you need to stop stressing.”

“I know.” She sighs. “I want to hold off for a few more stops on his trip. He needs to do this, and I don’t want to pull him out of it. He would be able to do so much good with making hospital alliances and discovering the newest medical treatments. I don’t want to ruin that for him or the hospital.”

Bryce agreed it would be beneficial for the hospital but at the risk of Eliana going through this whole pregnancy alone without Ethan, worried him.

I mean she had him, but he wasn’t the father, Ethan was and he deserved to know he was having a child.

The rest of the car ride is silent. Bryce didn’t completely agree with her way of thinking about everything. But it’s not his place to tell Ethan something as big as a pregnancy. That should come from Eliana.

Suddenly, Eliana’s phone lights up. She quickly hides it and he furrows his brows at her.

“E, Don’t tell me you’re ignoring Ethan...”

She doesn’t respond and he lets out a sigh. This could be very bad for both of them. Bryce gives her a death stare and she slumps her shoulders.

“I don’t know what to say without blurting out I have basically pregnancy diabetes, let alone that I’m pregnant in the first place.” She looked so vulnerable and tired in that moment, Bryce knew he had to convince her to at least call him. Baby steps. He thought.

“Can you at least call him when you get back? He’s probably worried sick by now.” He pleased and she sighed.

“I’ll do it once, I don’t know how well I’ll do with keeping the baby from him. But I’ll try.” She replied shifting lanes onto the highway.

“Thank you.” He briefly said before shifting the radio channel and Eliana’s favorite song pops up and she smiled, bopping her head to the beat of Backyard Boy.

“-Backyard boyyy, lookin’ super fine in a corduroy! Drive around the block, we can go in a loop!” She smiles while lip syncing and Bryce joined her. She exited the highway and drives down before reaching the apartment complex Bryce stayed at. He turns back to her after grabbing his things.

“Hey, please call him when you get back...” he stared intently at her and she nodded before flashing him a smile and a small wave as he turns to leave. She lets out a sigh before turning out the parking lot and making her way down the partly busy street.

She tried to put together a conversation in her head that she could use when she contacted Ethan. He knew her to well and would practically see right through her in any situation where she was stressed, sad, or angry and the conversation wouldn’t be the easiest.

Oh yeah hey Babe, yeah I just wanted to let you know that I’m pregnant and stuff heh, oh and I’m almost 2 and a half months along and have a disease to go with it because I’m not taking care of myself.. He would probably be so mad at her. She did feel bad for not returning his calls or texts,

Ugh is hopeless. she thought before shifting lanes once again and rolling into their condo a moment later. She ran her fingers through her hair and walks inside grabbing her phone from her purse.

Here goes nothing... she hits the call button on Ethan’s contact. After a few rings he picks up

“Eliana! Where have you been?! I’ve been trying to call you for the longest time!” Ethan said through the speaker.

“Hey, I’m okay, things have been really busy with patients and cases at the hospital and I’ve just been sleeping a working mostly. I really miss you though and I’m sorry I haven’t talked.” That wasn’t a lie. she thought.

“I got seriously worried! I just about called Bryce to check on you!” He sounded frustrated and her own pregnancy hormones weren’t helping the situation.

“I said I’m sorry! I’m perfectly fine, jeez.” She retorted and he let out a annoyed sigh on the other side of the line.

“Just.. ugh, text me or something when you won’t be available to talk.” His voice was tired and angry.

“What’s up with you?” She arched a brow.

“What’s up with you!” He replied, clearly reaching his breaking point. “I tried calling you ten times Eliana! And God knows how many times I texted you! The least you can do is say goodnight or good morning to let me know you are ok!”

Eliana was starting to get mad.

“I said, I was busy. Sorry I can’t devote my very breathing second to you mr. grumpy pants.” She growled back and quickly hung up before plopping down on her couch, longingly staring at the freezer which contained her secret ice cream stash. She picked up her box and took out the instructions for her needle pricking, she already knew how to do it but she wanted to be sure...

for the baby.

Ethan

He lets out a frustrated sigh as the call abruptly ends. He walks over to the bed in his hotel room, laying down on his back staring up at the ceiling, he hated being away from her. He thought something was wrong but maybe she just was really busy and tired...

Two days later...

Eliana yawned as she stepped out of her car, grabbing her bag a second later. She was headed into her morning shift at Edenbrook. She knew she needed to go on maternity leave soon because of her high stress levels in relation to work, but she couldn’t let Ethan know yet. Eliana was still frustrated with Ethan for being so overprotective, she still loved him but long distance was never a strong suit.

Bryce walks up to her as soon as she steps inside.

“Did you talk?” He asked with his brow quirked.

“Good morning to you too.” She mocks back.

“I’m serious E.”

“...yes.”

“And? Elaborate.” he requested

A sigh escaped her and she just slumped, she knew she wasn’t going to win an argument against him so why try..

“We...we got in a fight, I didn’t tell him about... ya know.” She gestured to her stomach while she spoke and Bryce just shook his head.

“You gotta do this at some point, you’re going to end up hurting you and the baby. And I know I’ve said it a million times but that doesn’t make it any less true for you. You heard what the doctor said!”

She just shook her head and balled her fists.

“I’m not going to stop Ethan from flourishing while he’s away! This is an amazing opportunity for him! I know it was last minute for us and that I need to slow down I just... I just can’t do that to him Bryce, I love him to much to be the reason he’s held back.” She looked beat, depressed, stressed...

“Well I’m absolutely not helping unless you tell him Eliana!!” Bryce was fed up himself.

“Fine! Go then!” She exclaimed, grabbing the attention of a few nurses nearby who just started whispering softly to each other before Eliana shot them a look causing them to scram.

When she turned her attention back to Bryce, he was already walking away from her with annoyance radiating off of him.

“Great..” she sighed before walking away...

***

Thank you all for reading!

Tag squad- I’m honestly so confused on my tags rn so if you do not want to be tagged then just lmk! -Sol

I @choicesstan1 I @gryffindordaughterofathena I @rookie-ramsey I @kinkypot I @drariellevalentine I @theinvisibledreamergirl I @fluffy-marshmallow-heart I @rookieoh I @vampireblissblog I @itsjustamesshonestly I @kaavyaethanramsey I @ohchoices I @ramsey-lahela I @monsoonblooms12 I @aestheticartsx I @pixie88 I @mrs-raleighcarrera I @romewritingshop I @ezekielbhandarivalleros I @vampireblissblog I @herarmoredheart I

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radramblog · 3 years ago

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Rating the letters of the alphabet

I feel like part of my style of comedy is just rambling about shit and making loose connections between things as part of an overall bit. I think. I’m no expert on myself, unfortunately.

The inspiration for the following absolute load of shite is trying to search Tiermaker for nothing. Like, no characters in the search bar. Didn’t come up with anything. Did a search for just a space. No dice. What about just a? Surely that’ll bring up everything with an A in the title. But it didn’t, and I was somewhat disappointed.

Then my head started writing bits about letters and that’s how we got here. This is probably really stupid, but maybe it’ll at least be fun. Wordplay is cool, though maybe not my strong suit? Anyway.

A: A is one of the two letters that’s also just a word, as you’ve just seen, giving it a necessary promotion in rank. Not a lot of things get to double up like that, though with the “an” ligature maybe it’s actually a double or nothing. But because of the confusing common connection crossing contexts for the character, it gets somewhat awkward to talk about the letter in conversation. An A, in my opinion, A does not get. 4/5.

B: B is also just a word letter but unlike A when you write it out you have to stick a few extra letters on to make it work, making it not as good. But B’s association with bees isn’t enough, because in the year of our lord, like, 2019 or something, it would become inextrixably linked with shite memes as the B emoji became king. And I just don’t respect that. It’s otherwise a fine letter, dragged down by its company. 2/5.

C: Oh come on now, the word doesn’t even have a C in it anymore! You can sea the see without any of our tertiary letter’s involvement whatsoever. Not to mention how its two main sounds are just copies from other letters wholesale. C must be confusing to non-english speakers, I’d imagine. C as a grade gets what C as a grade typically entails for many a schoolchild. 3/5.

D: It would be remiss of me not to give a sterling grade to the D. Why, none of us would be here without it. While many a youth may find the D to be quite a humourous subject, I assure you I’m taking it with the gravest of sincerity when I say the D has got to be one of the best letters of all.

And by D I mean deity, of course. Wait, what did you think I meant? 5/5.

E: The absolute absurdity that is the E meme elevates E efficiently enough to excel beyond many another vowel. However, it is also the single most common letter in the English language, going so far as to open the damn name. It’s to the point where someone made a point of writing an entire book without using it, and I think Gadsby is cool but mayhaps avoiding fifth uncial was a bit showy. I can’t help but mark it down for the sake of hipster cred. 3/5.

F: F is for Fuck. I like the word Fuck. F is for paying respects. I think the military-industrial complex has poisoned our cultural landscape to the point that a reference to one of its most prized productions’ awkward moments has become one of the most colloquially used meme letters in existence, And That’s Terrible. 3/5, I’m conflicted.

G: Man literally who the fuck cares about G. What is it even good for. Just an absolute waste of a letter, total shithouse. It’s NATO equivalent is Golf, the Worst Sport, too. Who asked for any of this? Just use a J instead, it’s cooler. 1/5.

H: I’ve seen “Hhh” used enough times in written forms of pornography to not consider it a Horny Letter. That and it, being short for Hentai, is often used to denote adult material in Japan. Basically what im saying is, I think this gets worse the less sex-positive you are. 6/9.

I: I think I’ve said enough about letter words already, but I is another high-tier one because like A I is just it’s own thing. It can also, however, be a bit confusing, looking just like an l a lot of the time, and having to constantly capitalise it is a pain in the ass. I also don’t have a particularly high opinion of myself, so a high opinion of I seems disingenuous. 3/5.

J: Clearly the best letter, hands down. I’m definitely not biased. There are so few letters as underappreciated by J- a fact many a person who’s had to do that “assign yourself an alliterative adjective” icebreaker game has had to reckon with. Because it appears to be a lot more popular with names than with words, and that just kind of sucks. 6/5.

K: K has in some circles managed to bump off its partner to become yet another letter word, though in a very informal abbreviated sense. However, when you’re looking into scientific fields, eventually said partner returns, having lost some weight on the trip down to absolute zero. This all makes complete sense in my head, and I’m sure is a lot less funny to anyone who doesn’t live there. 4/5.

L: I’d argue that L doesn’t cop its namesake. It’s a really useful letter, loads of words use it, especially in pairs, and my ADHD-brain thought it was fun to just say LLLLLLLLLLL for a bit while I was thinking about this so I guess that’s staying in now. Put me down as an L Lobbyist. 4/5.

M: Mmmmmm. M&Ms. But also it’s kind of a pain to write. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. 3/5.

N: I’d like to fight whoever decided we should have two letters that sound so similar right bloody next to each other in the alphabet. Actually, who the fuck even decided the alphabet’s order to begin with? Maybe it should go M to N, that’ll bloody show you. 2/5.

O: Our fourth vowel, and perhaps one of the underappreciated ones. O is similarly a letter word, but a much more common one considering its use as an interjection. It’s also one half of a very powerful letter combo, as we’ll see. 4/5.

P: There’s the other half. Many a joke involves OP as a phrase, whether it mean overpowered or original poster, and the letters’ adjacency is a lovely bit of serendipity. Whenever I say P out loud, on its own, I have to resist the urge to do some incredibly shitty beatboxing, which may or may not be a good sign. 4/5.

Q: I was going to write some very harsh words about Q, and its dependency on U, but then I realised that that is probably hate speech against the disabled. It still sucks, though. 0/5.

R: R is the one I am most struggling to think of things to say about. R is another letter that’s just kinda there. I’m sure the Roberts and Rachels of the world would disagree with me, though. It’s also the name of a program that I know has traumatised a lot of young biologist wannabes, slapping us with a whole pile of maths and statistics when we just wanted to look at cool plants and shit. Or in my case, cool cells and shit. 2/5.

S: The most overrated consonant, but also the thing that makes plurals not a pain in the ass. However I’m going to lean towards giving S a positive rating, if only because it’s associated with snakesssss (and serpentine characters who can talk) and I like those. 3/5.

T: I don’t think T gets enough credit as one of the pillars of the English language. A lot of very common words feature it, and yet it feels like it never gets the same level of credit as big shots like S or half of the vowels. T is like the character actor of the alphabet, is basically what I’m saying. 4/5.

U: Ah, the letter Americans hate for some reason. I think this is actually commentary on the history of American politics. Because throughout history, America has been extremely selfish and self-centered, while attempting to present a positive image that people are finally seeing past. They only entered WWI and WWII when it was convenient for them, they started wars and initiated coups in even their allies for petty ideological reasons, and they’ve gone to war with several countries and funded wars with several others seeming just for shits and giggles. Because apparently if you’re not an American, then you’re not one of them, and that means they hate U. 4/5.

V: I actually think V is underrated. It’s a fun sound. That’s it, no joke here. It’s neat, I like it. 4/5.

W: This may come as a shock to you, but double-u over here is actually two Vs! unless you’re writing in cursive, but fuck cursive. The French actually have it right on this one, naming it double-v (pronounced doobleh-vay). Add in the fact that it’s literally just M upside down, and you’ve got a pretty shite letter. 1/5.

X: There’s a reason literally every “A is for Apple” thing you see made for kids uses Xylophone for X, and that’s because there are no commonly used words that start with it. Seriously, it’s all just scientific terms- I’d argue X-Ray is more common than Xylophone in common parlance, but also, who wants to explain imaging to a kid. It doesn’t even get a second page of words on Dictionary.com. X also has implications as a letter word, that I’d rather avoid at the moment. 2/5.

Y: Ah, Ygreck, everyone’s favourite “what the fuck, France?” moment. Between that and being sorta kinda not really a vowel, Y prompts its own question more often than I’d care to admit. 2/5.

Z: As a (technical) member of the generation associated with this letter- on the one hand, I’m sorry, on the other, y’all have it coming. The final letter of the alphabet, one of the other ones worth 10 in scrabble (and yet X isn’t???), and one we probably got pretty sick of in the early 00s when it was everywhere- ironically, when most of the generation was getting born. 2/5.

And that’s the lot of them. I hope this didn’t alienate any non-English speakers too hard. It’s probably fine.

Join me for more bullshit next time I have another stupid idea. I mean, tomorrow.

#ramble #nonce shit tbh #remember when I made good content? yeah me neither

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hikari-writes · 4 years ago

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PART 1: True Hero

WORDS: 1.2k

[TAGLIST]

@engel-hageshii @mirakeul @identifybby

A/N: kaksks here comes the first part! Thanks a bunch again @identifybby for the feedbacks, i love you sm 😭😭😭💞💞💞💞 if anyone wants to be added to the taglist, just ask! 🥺🥺🥺👉👈 I'd be more than happy to add you 🥰

“Yes, mom. I’ve arrived safely. No, I didn’t encounter any weirdos on my way. Don’t worry, I’ll call you again tonight. Tell the others I said hi! Love you, mom.”

I end the call with a small smile, imagining the worried look on mom’s face. From today onwards, I’ll finally be able to live alone as a proud adult!

But there is only one tiny problem.

How do I get to my apartment again?

So I’m currently left with no other options than to ask some locals for directions.

Sure, I got the address for my apartment from my kind landlord but I never did ask him for directions because I’m confident I remembered the way to my own apartment from my highschool days.

Apparently, my ‘amazing’ memory decided that 1 year and a half of not visiting the place means that I won’t come back there ever again and wiped out the directions from my brain.

As I looked around for any sign of friendly locals that I could ask directions from, I heard a cheerful voice behind me.

“You look like you’re in quite the trouble there, miss! Care to tell us the problem?”

“Ah, yes! May I know the way to-- huh?”

I turned around with a big smile on my face, relieved that someone is kind enough to offer their help but stopped halfway when I saw who it was.

"Huh?"

The person seemed equally as shocked when he saw me too, making the both of us stare at each other for a moment, just to make sure we’re not seeing the wrong person.

"Mirio...?"

A smile quickly made its way to his face when I uttered his name, probably because he knew that his assumption was right.

"Y/N! So it really IS you!"

He makes his way to me and wraps his big arms around my body as I quickly follow suit.

"Oh my gosh! It's been so long! Can't believe I'd meet you here!"

I let go of him and shake his hands excitedly, my smile never leaving my face as the excitement and nostalgia washed over my entire being.

"For real! I'm happy to see you again!"

He flashes his bright smile that I’m so used to. I look behind him to see a confused green-haired boy staring at the both of us.

"Oh, isn't that..."

Mirio took notice of my attention towards the boy and turned to him.

"I think you remember him from high school. This is Midoriya. He's currently working under my agency for his Hero Work-Studies."

Midoriya took Mirio's brief introduction as his cue to introduce himself and bowed his head at me.

"N-nice to meet you! I'm Midoriya Izuku and I go by the name Deku."

I clapped my hands together as I remembered something when I heard his introduction.

"Right! The problem child!"

Mirio laughs at my exclamation while Izuku smiles awkwardly at me. I sure did remember the boy that Mirio always talked about during the Hero Work-Studies in our senior year (I wished my memories for directions are as good as this).

"Are you patrolling around this area?"

I ask Mirio while carefully observing his hero costume. It looks a bit different from what I remembered. He must've done some changes to it.

"Yep! Speaking of, you were about to ask for directions right? Where are you heading to?"

"Ah, right..."

I suddenly hesitated to ask for help after knowing that it was Mirio. It would've been so embarrassing if my best friend knew I forgot the way to my own apartment. He would definitely tease me about it.

“Uh….directions for….um...”

“For your apartment?”

Mirio guesses and flashes me his teasing smile. I glare at him as I feel my own cheeks heating up. Mirio gives a hearty laugh and slaps my back several times in an attempt to cheer me up.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help with the directions! It’s pretty close by here too so you are on the right track! Just walk straight along this path then make a right turn. If you’ve forgotten what your apartment looks like, I can--”

I put my hand up to stop him from talking and give an annoyed look.

“Mirio, I AT LEAST knew what my apartment looks like. I just need the directions...”

Mirio laughs again and rests his hand on my shoulder.

“I understand if you forget things, Y/N. It’s been almost 2 years since you last came here.”

I smile at him, grateful that he’s so understanding of my situation.

“Thanks, Mirio. Oh, right! Tell me your number. We can continue chatting over the phone. You must be busy patrolling right now. Sorry to take your time!”

I quickly take out my phone from my handbag and Mirio follows suit.

“Don’t worry over it too much! A hero is always ready to help anyone in need.”

Well, I’m glad that that part of him didn’t change at all. Still the same cheerful Mirio, just like back during our school days.

“Oh and Y/N? Do you already have a job here?”

I look away from my phone and send a toothy grin at him.

“Yep! I’ll be working at my relative’s restaurant. I’ll give you the location later so feel free to drop by whenever! I’ll start working next week so come by then if you’re free.”

“I see! That’s good for you. I’ll tell you when I will drop by!”

“Okay. Well then, good luck doing hero works, you two! Teach those baddies some lessons for me, will ya?”

I did some air punches and laughed at my own silliness. The problem child seemed amused and motivated though, so I guess I did do them a favor.

I wave my hands at the both of them before turning around and making my way to my apartment. I quickened my steps as soon as I reached the right corner and spotted my apartment complex. Gotta unpack all those stuff and do some cleaning after all. The giddy feeling in my chest made me feel like a teenager again and I just couldn’t help but to be excited to see my precious home again after so long.

~~**~~

“So that’s L/N-senpai? This is the first time I’ve seen her. I heard that during the second term of her senior year, she was involved in an accident so she was forced to go back to her hometown to rest there.”

Mirio looks at Izuku with a small smile. He understands why Izuku is curious about Y/N’s situation, since she did become the hot topic of the school for a while.

“She wasn’t originally from here after all. The apartment she was heading to was her house during her high school years. But yeah, turns out her condition was worse than they had thought so she was forced to drop out of UA.”

Izuku gasps slightly, his usual bright face turning a bit dark.

“I wonder how L/N-senpai must’ve felt. She was so close to graduating and becoming a Pro Hero too.”

“Yeah...but I’m sure she’s fine so don’t worry much!”

Mirio gives a hard slap behind Izuku’s back and almost making him fall over. The two of them continued chatting away as they patrol around the area, keeping the place safe from all evils just like a true hero that they are.

👻END OF PART 1👻

》NEXT

SOUL TIES MASTERLIST

#boku no hero academia #bnha #my hero academia #bnha x reader #mha #boku no hero academia tamaki #bnha tamaki amajiki #tamaki amakiji #tamaki x reader #bnha tamaki #mha tamaki #bnha tamaki x reader #bnha fanfiction #fanfic series #soul ties #st

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infiniteshawn · 5 years ago

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Beautiful Stranger

a/n: 2k of something that popped into my brain while i was brushing my teeth 2 hours ago. based on the song Finally // beautiful stranger by Halsey. angst and then fluff. **this exists in a world where Steve continued his “normal” (present?) life post-Endgame**

It wasn’t always like this. Tense. Regretful. Pain in your chest at the mere thought of him, even. You and Steve had been inseparable since everything was right in the world again and he’d decided to settle down and lay low for a while. He was close-knit with the rest of the Avengers, but still, he needed a break.

That’s where you factored into the equation.

When everything happened, Steve decided he needed change. To turn a new leaf. Start fresh—but maintain his sense of home. He left Washington and moved back to Brooklyn.

Living across the hall from him forced you into his path a few times too many, and before you knew it, the two of you had clicked. You were spending sleepless nights on his couch watching reruns of home improvement shows, or challenging each other to following unnecessarily complex recipes from your New York Times subscription. Within weeks you’d become best friends, and everything was fine. Which didn’t last long.

Steve fell for you. Hard. And he was obvious about it, too, even though he wasn’t trying to be.

You thought back to one night last November in your apartment, when Steve had accidentally shown his cards. Your home seemed to fascinate him, and you couldn’t count the times he’d asked if you’d really read all the books on the shelves that lined the walls of your studio apartment. You were curled up on your couch--because Steve liked your place better, apparently—and you’d realized that he’d began the evening on the other end of the sofa, but had somehow crept his way over and engulfed you in a warm entanglement of limbs.

You’d just told him about going home to spend Thanksgiving with your parents, and he’d unexpectedly piped up, suggesting you stay in the city instead.

“I can’t just cancel on my family, Steve,” you reasoned, freeing your arm from his grip so you could take a sip of your wine. Guilt ate at you a little as you remembered that he didn’t exactly have the luxury of going ‘home’ for the holidays, so you made a suggestion, “you could always come with me.”

He chuckled at that and you looked up to meet his gaze. His eyes found yours with little hesitation.

“Nah, I don’t wanna do that to you,” he spoke quietly, tilting his head back a bit to rest on the back of the sofa, “I’m being stupid, anyway. Of course you have to go home. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“What?” you responded as your face fell, your arms subconsciously holding onto him a little more tightly, “No, Steve, I don’t know why I didn’t invite you sooner. I think you should come.”

Silence loomed between the two of you, though there wasn’t much space for it. You were nestled into him and his nose was only a couple of inches from yours. You could see the gears turning, though, as his brows knitted together with concern and he opened his mouth as if to say something.

“Steve,” you slightly grinned, but spoke somewhat sternly, “what is it?”

“It’s stupid.”

“No, it probably isn’t,” you protested, “Tell me.”

He sighed with a playful roll of his eyes, shifting in his spot to put some space between the two of you in his uncomfortable state.

“Fine,” he started, bringing a large hand up to scratch a nonexistent itch on his scalp, “I, I just, I had this idea, you know?”

You nodded.

“This idea that we could do the whole Thanksgiving thing here, or at mine, or whatever you want, really. I just thought it might be nice to do the big-dinner-thing even though there are only two of us?”

You pursed your lips, your heart breaking a little. This was what you were afraid of.

“You know, I, I don’t really have family, and most of the time you don’t exactly get along with yours, so why not spend Thanksgiving with one of the only people I really love?” he finished, trailing off and making it sound like less of a question. It was a statement. A bold, honest, raw statement that you hadn’t yet acknowledged until this moment, and you were terrified.

Because you loved him too.

You went home for Thanksgiving. You pretended that your heart didn’t break a little when you knocked on Steve’s door and were met with no answer, knowing that he was inside and he’d be spending the weekend alone. You missed him, but you knew things had gotten out of hand; This was never meant to happen.

It was always just friendship between you and Steve. Nothing more, nothing less, because once you’d gotten to know him, you’d realized how precious he truly was. After having him play such a big part in your life, it was clear that you didn’t want to go back to not knowing him. And coming to terms with your romantic feelings toward him was scary and out of the question—you’d have rather had him as your friend than your ex.

But now, he wasn’t your anything.

Days passed and he tried to get a hold of you, but you couldn’t risk it. Thinking back to what you felt when he finally said it made your heart lurch in your chest, and you knew that was dangerous territory. You couldn’t fuck this one up—so you decided you wouldn’t let yourself. Steve was off-limits.

Steve was off-limits when you passed him in the hall and he shot you that charming, but pained half-grin. Steve was off-limits when you were late to work and he was there, holding open the door to your building because your hands were full. Steve was off-limits when he was calling you at midnight—somehow, over the years, he’d found a way around that can’t-get-drunk thing—going in circles about his confusion and longing to talk about absolutely nothing and everything again, anything to just be with you. Steve was off-limits when you wanted nothing more than to pick up the goddamn phone.

It didn’t stop eating at you because eventually, he stopped calling. That hurt even more.

But you knew you couldn’t budge. The feelings had to dissipate before you could even think about going back to the way things were.

And as you sat at table two of the hotel’s banquet hall, watching the snow cascade in a white blanket over New York while your sister danced with her new groom, you wished Steve could have been there with you.

You’d invited him ages ago. He agreed with no hesitation. But after all of this, you were positive it was a write-off. There was no way he’d show face without a call or a text, especially not after the neglect you’d shoved in his direction over the past month.

Everyone was tipsy. The room was candle-lit. You wore black, mourning the loss of your place in the wedding party once your sister had annulled her feud with her childhood friend—surprise surprise. In a room filled with love and laughter, you’d never felt more alone.

A voice pulled you back into reality. A familiar voice.

“S’cuse me,” it spoke, kindly but timidly, “I believe this seat is mine.”

It couldn’t be.

You looked up from your daydreaming gaze to see Steve, dressed for the occasion, motioning to the empty spot beside you.

“Steve,” you spoke, not sure what else to say as he looked at you with a questioning expression, the pain in his eyes tugging at your heart strings.

“Steve, I’m so sor-“ you started, but he cut you off because you’d suddenly stood and there were tears in your eyes and fuck, he thought, she’s so goddamn beautiful.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay,” he spoke, barely a whisper, pulling you into the arms you knew all too well.

You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to suppress your feelings while appreciating being in his arms once again.

“I just can’t believe you’re here,” you gulped, pressing your cheek to his as he held you close, “you still came.”

“Well,” he chuckled, “I couldn’t leave my best girl.”

You giggled at his traditional way of speaking, pulling yourself from his arms to meet his crystal gaze.

“Not here, anyway,” he concluded, motioning to the room around you, “I figured today would be kind of...hard.”

For a moment, you said nothing. And then, you wanted to say everything.

Steve could feel it. Either the anticipated apology or the angry meltdown. He wasn’t sure.

Before you could open your mouth, he opened his.

“Care to dance?”

You frowned a little as you nodded, unsure of how you could have treated someone so gentle so harshly. And somehow, some way, he still wanted to dance with you.

The song changed to something slow and Steve’s hands fell to your hips, and you knew there were endless pairs of eyes on you, but you didn’t care. Neither of you did.

Your eyes, so crisp, so green

Sour apple baby, but you taste so sweet

You got hips like Jagger and two left feet

And I wonder if you’d like to meet

“Steve, I’m really sorry,” you spoke, head resting on his shoulder.

“You don’t need to explain yourself, really,” he responded, brushing your forehead with his cheek, “I overstepped. I scared you off. That was the last thing I wanted, but I felt like I couldn’t go another day without telling you how I feel.”

“Steve-“

“No, really,” he insisted on speaking, so you let him, “I saw you everywhere. You were in my living room. You were in my kitchen. You were in my sweaters and on my phone and in my brain that can’t seem to shut up sometimes,” he paused, tightening his grip around your waist, “And then I started thinking, why should it? Why should my brain shut up?”

“It shouldn’t,” you replied, “you love who you love.”

“And I love you. And I’m sorry,” Steve spoke, and something about the snow and the candles and the song and the man wrapped around you told you that it was okay.

Oh, we’re dancing’ in my living room, and up come my fists

And I say I’m only playing, but, the truth is this

I’ve never seen a mouth that I would kill to kiss

And I’m terrified, but the truth is this

Your hands found his lightly-stubbled cheeks before you could verbally respond, pulling his face down to yours to meet his lips in what truly was the kiss-to-end-all-kisses. It was warm and soft and euphoric as his grip tightened once he processed what was happening, and you didn’t have to say it back for him to know.

Beautiful stranger, here you are in my arms and I know

That beautiful strangers only come along to do me wrong

And I hope, beautiful stranger, here you are in my arms

And I think it's finally, finally, finally, finally, finally safe

For me to fall

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #chris evans #chris evans x reader #steve rogers imagine #mcu #avengers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfic

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neocityfics · 4 years ago

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2096: Zodiac

Chapter: Intro < ❝ Prologue ❞ > Chapter One

➥ Chapter List

Genre: Cyberpunk inspired, mafia-esque, not-so dystopian, angst

Pairing: Doctor! Taeyong x Reader [Sprinkle of other pairings tbd]

Summary: 2094, the disaster happens. The richest become richer with their reddened backs turned, the people around you growing more and more tired, and a certain Dr. Lee plans to change it all. Lucas unknowingly pulls you into the frenzy, and you become part of this confusing and painful process. You catch yourself floating between the conflict of twelve gangs and a world where circuits begin replacing flesh.

Warnings: Moderate cursing, death, heavy events similar to real world situations

A/N: Throughout the writing, there’ll be links (indicated by ▶ Ambience) for a more immersive experience. These are YouTube links, so it may be difficult to switch between YouTube and Tumblr (especially for those unable to have video pop-outs on mobile), so please keep this in mind. I’m also working on a Spotify playlist. I really hope you enjoy my first published piece!

▶ Ambience

The sea of neon purples, pinks, and blues drowned out whatever background activity filled the hustling life of the city. Light harshly touches the exterior of small shops endlessly lining the streets. Though full of living people, it always seemed a bit lonely. Everyone for themselves as it had been before the disaster happened, before life became even harder and resources scarce. Half the world is gone, but for whatever reason, humans continue to persevere. This strength is a unique feat, but it comes with consequences. With the remaining 3 billion people left on Earth, only the Eurasian continent remains the only habitable land thus forcing people to squeeze in tightly. It’s like this everywhere-- tiny housing, famines, and the overgrowing hunger to hold power and wealth much as we did before. The rich stay rich, the poor stay poor.

Life’s tough in Neostone. With hundreds of thousands of people and little food, restaurants struggle to keep open with enough to sell. Fresh water sources and land were replaced with tall housing structures and corporate buildings. Most have to work two or more jobs. Education is non-existent and relies on parents teaching kids different skills through child labor. Further industrialization in the little space the planet has left led to bouts of acid rain from overworked factories. The world’s leaders morph into the same guise: ties stained with blood, suits the product of cheap labor showed off status, and their white-gloved hands tightly gripped heavy silver suitcases. Corruption still plagues the broken systems that hang over society, sustained from before the disaster happened. It seems like we’ll never learn.

Sure, it’s difficult to get by day to day without much, yet the communities outside the wealthy rich businesses were tight-knit. Everyone knows each other’s names. People often trade food scraps for little luxuries to feel any ounce of happiness. Friends hang out near street food vendors where most people are, begging for any kind of calorie. While life in Neostone is tough, the citizens depend on each other for care, not anyone from above.

I don’t think of it much-- how different life would be if the disaster didn’t happen, if the world had never been touched by so much chaos. I knew it’d be the same, that I’d end up still struggling to get from morning to morning. Even with the big drop in population, we live as sardines squished together under a layer of plastic that suffocates us. Nothing has changed. I lost everything.

Though the neons felt like home and they were all I’ve known for the past couple of years, I do remember who I was before this all went downhill. Fresh in college with a mind set on (major(s)/minor(s)), and although uncertain of the future, I was ready to break free from family and understand what it means to live a good life. Debt would hit me hard on my head but I was certain to find ways to pay it off without burdening others. Between jobs and school, I felt like there was a purpose for my movement, for my existence, to be a small gear of a clockwork world. For three years, I managed to get stuff done and become my own separate identity. I never felt more myself for the longest time. One more year to go, I said to myself as my third year comes to a close. But fourth year never came. It happened. The start of summer into my last year in college was the best time I’ve had in my life. During an internship in Japan, I’d gotten a handle of how it was in the real world as part of the workforce. A month into the most enjoyable moments of my life came the disaster.

▶ Ambience, Ambience

I watched the television screens throughout the subway, making my way to my 9am train when the static and distortions of color accompanied the shaking ground beneath me. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing as the news shifted to an emergency alert. All of a sudden, hurricanes, tornadoes, earthquakes, building collapses, and tsunamis were destroying the western hemisphere. The disaster was inexplicable, the most spontaneous event in the history of Earth. I hid in the nearest shelter in Tokyo as realization hit how horrifying everything was. Buildings toppling left and right, people being crushed beneath the debris, splatters of fresh red on the broken bits of glass and metal heaps. That was a day of absolute terror. Within twenty-four hours, half the world was gone. My heart sank as the disasters settled throughout the world, and the news focused on the western hemisphere where I had lived most of my life. That part of the world was gone. My family and college friends were gone.

And I was left alone in Japan.

But the world didn’t change. The same evil corporate heads enforced the same evil policies and practices. The same tired faces dragged their tired bodies until no end just to, at the bare minimum, survive. No matter what form the world took, this was our fate until we went extinct. The only thing that changed perhaps was how many of us were kept in that system, and that the system favoring the wealthy became stronger. So the cycle continues.

▶ Ambience

With the scraps of money I had left on my name and picking up little jobs, I was able to get into a micro apartment. The government was eager to take advantage of the situation and make just enough housing to keep people happy and off the streets, but also enough to ensure some people couldn’t get out of the vicious system so labor was cheap. My space is dingy at best and quite small, but it’s all the comfort I have. Not a day passes where I’m not grateful for a private place to sleep, do business, and let myself feel at ease. Others aren’t so lucky, sleeping behind their food and merchandise stalls or in the nooks and crannies of back alleys. Weeks passed into months where my body ached from overwork, the same for the people I’ve been surrounded with and worked alongside. It’s only been two years since everyone had to rebuild what’s been lost, but it looked only slightly different in Neostone where Tokyo had once been. Only the mega cities were somewhat unscathed by the disaster, and businesses collectively chipped in to remodel them. Rural and suburban areas were either flooded or full of toxic waste.

People from all races and backgrounds who survived into the aftermath of the disaster poured into the cities. I was kindly taken into the dangerous but welcoming community of downtown Neostone, where cooking and selling food in addition to helping at clinic became my new life. At the clinic, I met someone I familiarized myself with to be comfortable and close enough. Having someone around lifted up my motivation. Going by Lucas, a name he adopted to fit in with the rest of downtown Neostone, he worked assiduously the same shifts as me at Pearl Park Clinic. Besides weekends, Lucas and I leave for work together as he lives just a few rooms down in the complex. While working at the clinic down on East Row, he comes to visit for a bite at the street food stall that keeps me busy half the week. Throughout getting to know him within two years, he revealed he also lost family he was close with-- a younger brother and sister who by the sound of his stories were needy brats that he loved so much. It hurts to know they’re gone like my friends are. I was glad I could relate to him and also be someone to lean on. On a roller-coaster of life’s tests, Lucas and I know we have each other’s back.

▶ Ambience

Today was like most days, another Friday morning. The green flash of LED at 7:00am with a loud beeping, a quick splash of cold water against my face, clean clothes, and a quick bite of fruit. The same mindless routine guides me out of the door of the room and down the hall. From my room, 716, to Lucas’s room, 718, was only a few meters away thanks to the tiny size of rooms. I knock once, twice, then thrice, but no reply. Strange. I’m used to Lucas whipping the door wide open at the slightest sound of my footsteps to poke his head out and greet me loudly. Should I knock again? Call him? My hand gravitated towards the doorknob, uncertain if we’re on the kind of terms where I can barge in whenever. “Lucas,” I decide to start softly, “I’m here now, we can leave for the clinic.” No reply. Maybe I’ll text him. Unlocking my phone, a smile cracked on my face as a photo of Lucas and I hanging out with some other friends posed in front of our favorite ice cream shop flashed across the screen. No red numbered badge on the messaging app. Today feels a little bit unusual. Typically, he texts when he needs help or won’t be at work. Inhaling in, I choose to try the knob in which a turn and a push of the door unveils the dark, musky room. A room with no Lucas. Noticing the tension in my face and shoulders, I relax them and try not to think of anything bad that could happen to him. Maybe he needed to stop somewhere before going to work. Maybe he’s just out to get groceries and whatnot. Maybe he’s just busy doing something else. I trust he’ll get back to me soon, but the weird pit in my stomach bugged my thoughts.

Down the long winding halls, unlocking my phone seemed all I could do, the worry taking over. My pace quickened. It’s 8:00am, the clinic starts up at 9:00am. It’s a long walk through a rather sketchy part of downtown, but it's one I’ve mastered throughout the couple of years and certainly made friends in. Reaching the staircase, my breath was noticeably shallower. This was always the worst part. It took much time and energy just to get to the first floor. Upon stepping into the lobby, I swiftly pick up an umbrella from the community box set near the entrance and begin my path out. The clerk at the counter peaks over his rather raunchy motorcycle magazine, riddled with messy yellow text, and he subtly waves at me. I send the gesture back, taking my leave from the complex. Rain besets Neostone often, the overcast weather permitting low fog and grey clouds to lurk the bubble that is downtown. Chatter and noise blend together from all sides with the rushing waters eagerly greeting storm drains and early risers setting up their stores. In comparison to the staircase, the lengthy walk to the clinic is always a breeze, and it helps calm the nerves as I ready myself for a busier pace of day. Every five minutes, I unlocked my phone again to see if Lucas had contacted me. Still no sign of him.

▶ Ambience

After what seems like the longest walk of my life, some staff of the community medical clinic greet me and provide a list of my duties right away. 9:00am right on the dot. I take in what needs to get done, reading off the slightly crumpled paper between my fingers. Towel laundry… Disinfect beds in the North Wing… Prepare a warm epsom salt bath for patients in the East Wing… Always busy on Fridays when the work week is over and people live out their less-than-safe life decisions. Less work, more injuries, and more patients. A voice sharply interrupts, “Hey! Where’s Lucas? You two always arrive here together.” My heart sank. So he isn’t at work. Where could that man possibly be?

Tension grows but a sigh leaves my chest as I formulate some sort of response to the nurse, “He might be sick, I’m not sure where he went. Usually he tells me, but I’m sure he has his reasons.” The lady nodded and clicked her tongue as if irritated. A pause before I ask her, “Why, are we short-staffed today?” She gives a vexed nod again, taking her leave as another staff member urges her towards a patient. Stupid question. We always are understaffed. Located on the intersection of Bear Walk and Oak Lane as suspension railways weave between buildings, Pearl Park Medical Clinic threw itself into one of downtown’s busiest and most dangerous areas. Crimes being committed everyday that send people into the clinic, drunkards finding their way through the doors to spew anger uncalled for against the staff, and the homeless just asking for a pillow or blanket while they sleep outside as they’re reminded of the cold, hard pavement soaked with rain. Of course, we must treat everyone’s needs… and wants in some cases. Only a couple dozen of us work the two-floored piece of the tall establishment which also houses struggling law firms, compact grocery stores, beauty salons, and wireless carriers. This place is a mini mall, but not for the faint-of-heart mall goers. Murder, sabotage, and sickness run rampant. However, it’s the place Lucas and I call home. From Tuesday to Friday, from 9:00am to 8:00pm, my hands pruned from washing equipment and fabric constantly, legs moved to and from wing to wing to prepare stations, mind boggled by the surprising sights of Neostone’s everyday life. The dirty white walls, gowns, and noise make me feel rejuvenation each time I clock in for shifts. Home. A place of belonging. Everyone accepted me in, even as a seemingly insignificant part of the operation. For Lucas, he tells me so often as if I forget easily, it’s a dream come half true.

Lucas aspired to be a doctor. It was his lifelong desire to help others, fascinated by how many times the human body tested the limits and broke them, and how he could save someone’s life. That was his purpose. Unfortunately, he fell into the same boat as I did, not being able to finish college because of the disaster. As per hiring policy, Pearl Park requires employees to be degree holders in biology, chemistry, biochemistry, or any other related field. Lucas was studying biochemistry with a neuroscience minor. Beyond impressive were his grades by what Lucas boasts to me, though I can’t confirm since the disaster destroyed his documents. In his third year, he already started planning his senior capstone project with research on the nervous system of several types of animals. We bonded over doing labs, the silliest or most dreadful courses we sat through, and how the university dining food sucked and ripped us all off. But it was a waste. In this new society, formal higher education is not important. Some schooling still persists, but they’re limited to small, dusty, singular classrooms led by underpaid teachers. Families tend to force children into work as it’s deemed more beneficial in learning practical home economics rather than mathematical theories, ethics, physical sciences, and so much more. The mindset of the remaining world focused on survival versus getting jobs of higher pay and better conditions. No one could blame us when authority breaks and the top 1% fully turn their back on you. Despite being turned down for medical practice, Lucas still wholeheartedly accepted the situation and embraced helping out in the clinic. Here and there with a bit of discreteness, Lucas does patch up some patients with bandage, disinfect cuts, and give advice for those with physical pain. Might I add, he’s quite popular with the patients as well, handsome and charming as he is. I’ll admit to it, I’m jealous of how he lifts everyone up in the toughest hours. Shortly after he joined, my arrival a week later brought him joy knowing I was stuck in the same sticky situation he was in. His passion could be seen a mile away. On the other hand, I just needed this job to keep myself afloat like everyone else.

I snap back to reality when one of the doctors, Dr. Lee who made a beeline towards one of the stations, bumped my side. Asshole, I think to myself. He’s head of the Pearl Park operation, so I don’t feel the desire to cause trouble by reprimanding him. This job allows me to hang onto my existence and sanity with my apartment, I couldn’t afford to lose it. His voice booms suddenly, startling nearby staff, “Is Lucas not here? I need him to help.” His voice trails off and erupts again, “With surgery preparation on Monday,” he swivels his head to one of the lead nurses, “We’re doing a skin graft for a severely burned person.” Despite the cold aura, his face contorted with concern and urgency. The patients put complete faith into him as he’s been a well-known medical practitioner since before the disaster. My imagination briefly ponders the severity of the injury as if I haven’t seen my fair share of nasty burn wounds. Shoulders shudder for a moment, and then I begin towards the North Wing where my first duty awaits.

▶ Ambience

Phew. That might’ve been the longest shift of my life. All day, the image of Lucas constantly itched at the back of my mind. It was difficult to focus, but I managed to get through the hours until 8:00pm. With my feet aching from exhaustion and a slight headache from lack of food or water, I decide to pay a visit to my other favorite place: East Row’s finest Chinese street food, Electric Egg. In my innermost thoughts, I’d hope to see Lucas there, munching away on tea eggs. That was his go-to snack after shifts at the clinic. Being on your feet all day does quite a bit of damage and leaves the stomach to growl, to fight for a delicious energy replenishment. When I arrive, one of my coworkers greets me cheerfully, shouting and waving my name as I draw closer, much to my embarrassment. “Sicheng,” my voice laced with laughter, “how’s business!” Our most common exchange, with the most common reply. With a hardy laugh, he shoots back, “The everyday thing, you know. Slow.” Sicheng’s smile invites me towards the side of the stall as he prepares what he knows are my regular dishes of choice. “Xi’an pancake and sesame tang yuan, coming right up!” As if on cue, my stomach beams in excitement and I lay my hand on it to feel the grumble, making Sicheng to laugh. “How’s work by the way, and where’s Lucas? I have his tea eggs already here.” I glanced to the side of the cart Sicheng worked away at, and indeed Lucas’s tea eggs sat prettily in a mug, waiting to be eaten.

I sigh, turning Sicheng’s grin into a straight line. He’s observant and knows how to read the room well. After a pause to gather myself, I sit down on a stool facing Sicheng and begin to tell him my worries. “I’m not sure if maybe I’m overthinking this, but Lucas always tells me if he’s not feeling well enough to work or go out somewhere. But he was gone this morning, he wasn’t in his room when I left for the clinic. He didn’t show up to the shift, and so many bad things could’ve happened, especially in the area we’re in. I’ve been checking my phone the entire day, but I’ve gotten no resp--”

“My tea eggs! You’re the best Sicheng, I really needed this after a long day, oh my god. You guys have no idea, my belly’s been howling!”

I froze. I know that voice too damn well. Anger immediately boiled within me, and it burst like the hot oil that hits Sicheng’s arms as he cooked. “You. Piece. Of. Shit,” I whipped my entire self around to face the tall man who unsurprisingly turned out to be Lucas with his disheveled hair framing his stupid little face. “Did you not see your call log? It’s just me, me, me, me, me, and oh guess who… me!” The tone in my words frightened even me, even more so realizing both Lucas and Sicheng’s widened eyes. I earned some dirty looks from customers as well. Nevertheless, I was pissed.

Lucas’s heightened shoulders steadily fall. “Hey, I’m sorry… Something really urgent came up, and it’s very personal to me. I hope you understand. I should’ve told you as soon as it came up.” His jaw clenches, his fists tightening their grip against the counter as he sternly looks at me across the food stall. I shake my head and roll my eyes, gaining a scolding expression from Sicheng who’s confusion was written all over his face. Deep within me, I know Lucas is sincere.

I start back up, loosening my voice to become gentle, “Eat your tea eggs, please. They’re getting cold and Sicheng prepared them for you early.” Silence followed, then the chewing noises from Lucas hungrily devouring his food. Maybe today was a hard day by the looks of it. Lucas took care of his appearance, so it was a shock to see him in a seemingly vulnerable state. His eye bags seem bulging and darkened, a sign of a sleepless night. Unsure of what to think, I let go of my displeasure and chip away at my pancake and rice balls. After satisfying our hunger, Lucas and I bid Sicheng a goodbye and head back to our apartment complex. The walk is painfully awkward.

▶ Ambience

This feeling is nice. To have Lucas back as we go through our nightly routine of washing our faces and brushing our teeth in a tiny community bathroom. Our mannerisms seem slightly less stiff, and though minimal, it takes a huge weight off my shoulders. He’s back and I feel secure again. But he doesn’t bring up anything about earlier. I’m about to comment on his long-sleeved shirt as he’s the biggest heat anti in the world, refusing to wear anything that isn’t a muscle tee. But the rough emotions rattled us both, so I drop it from my list of questions to ask. We get ready for bed in silence, only starting to discuss things when we finish up and plop on the floor of my apartment. I tried to figure out if I was uncomfortable from the cold floor or for the conversation that might unfold. Since Lucas has been excruciatingly quiet, I take the initiative, “I sent so many messages and calls today. Do you know how worried I was?” Disappointment heavily coat my concerns. “This isn’t like you, I was seriously going to lose my mind. Please… can you tell me what’s going on?”

It pains me to see him looking like he’s kicked down again from having an already bad day, but I needed answers. He’s the person I trust the most in the life we have now. His chest inflated and quickly deflated. “I’m about to show you something. It might freak you out.” He tugs at the ribbed cuff of his left sleeve. A tattoo? Perhaps a little smiley face or some unconventional design placed oddly on his arm that he wanted to cover since we work at a clinic? Though tattoos are normalized on staff... Or an injury? Whatever it is, I just want to know whatever he’s hiding. “Promise me you won’t make a big commotion, I will explain.”

Without much thinking, I grow irritated at him for dragging this out, so I reach for the end of his shirt and pull it up quickly, unveiling the truth. My body and mind go rigid at the sight, unable to process whatever this… contraption was. “Lucas… what the hell is this,” I ask, alarmed, taking in the faintly glowing circuits and tiny sparks of blue electricity lighting up and down tubes that poke in and out of the machinery. From his shoulder down to his fingers, metals and screws and wires replace his flesh. After a long minute of examination and curiosity, I turn my attention back to Lucas’s face which expressed great worry, fear, and uncertainty. “Is this the reason you were gone today?” He gently shook my hand off and swiftly covered his arm with his shirt again. With a dejected look, he takes his eyes off mine and pins them on the dusty floorboards. His arm is no longer human.

“Dr. Lee from the clinic.”

#2096: zodiac #taeyong x reader #cyberpunk au #mafia au #taeyong reader insert #nct taeyong #nct 127 #nct u #nct #kpop fanfic #lee taeyong #wong yukhei #lucas #wayv #nct angst #nct mafia au #winwin #dong sicheng

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