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#mad props to anyone who takes the time to ready any of this long shit sdlkjfghld
panelshowsource · 5 years
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you are both silly! i am a goat! 🐐🐐🐐
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well taskmaster has always had an art theme — you may have noticed the taskmaster’s portraits in past seasons:
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so it seems this series has an “anime” kind of theme, hence the screen, for example. this is pretty standard — you can see in s4 when they did van gogh that there are sunflowers on the table behind hugh. just a little extra way to spice things up!
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i thought it was fun! i definitely wasn’t as pessimistic as a lot of other people because i knew joe thomas, iain stirling, and paul sinha would definitely be endearing (i know people were/are on the fence about lou sanders, and i didn’t know sian gibson before tm) and 3/5 is good enough for me, so i’m glad it turned out the group has decent chemistry so far. i loved seeing iain get worked up about the puppets for example; this was the biggest downfall of s6 imo: they just accepted all of the decisions the taskmaster made without really caring how things turned out. i love when there’s a bit of competitive tension! probably why i liked s2 so much, since almost all of them were really points hungry >:) i think this will be a super pleasant series, i’m looking forward to the rest 🖤❤️
ps. it’s not new taskmaster season without a little thirst!! fly that freak flag anon!
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that doesn’t surprise me at all, though i never thought of it myself. jen aniston has always been pretty hoighty-toighty, but maybe not in such an endearing way as victoria. but i really enjoy the comparison 😂
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oh anon you fell into the pit...welcome... i think i have exactly what you need right now: just desserts!
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i’m sorry too anons :((( it’s bittersweet but honestly i have been so impressed by his acting recently (especially journey’s end and howards end) and would be elated to see him really pursuing that more seriously as a matured actor. he really, really has the talent and the more effort he puts into it, the more we will hopefully get to be witness to that! plus this might mean another female host and i would love to see that! we were luck to get so many great years out of him 💙
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i don’t anon, but why not use a youtube proxy? there are so many, i use this one on eu4
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HAHAHA you think?? hmm interesting... he’s done so many programmes with dara, and i wonder if anyone would describe dara as “witless”? that said, dara was all over the place at that time. who knows, and dm may have even changed his mind since then! i could never imagine him being friends with someone like micky flanagan but alas! as he gets older, he becomes more and more unbothered...and i kind of like it :’)
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have you seen james & jupp? sooooo fun and adorable, what an underrated brotp! (three of these files are .mkv so you need to download to watch)
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hahaha i haven’t had time to watch it but i promise i’ll let you know when i do! maybe i’ll even make some gifs for it if it’s good quality? i’m so glad to hear you think it’s good! the cast is epic 💘💘
ps. inb4 where can i watch ghosts (oops too late)
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live footage of me watching ass sandwich, roisin going in on piers morgan while he tries to defend himself, and ian hislop vs. john prescott:
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i’m sorry to disappoint but i promise more vcm content is on its way! the queen reigns!
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i will never close the floodgates but what you’ve written is honestly just plain sweet, not the perverted and sinful thirst that some of these animals think is appropriate to anonymously message me at 2pm on a tuesday
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hahaha oh anon but he has been kissed! here and here for example, and who could forget a sweet peck from an original panel show otp
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they’re quickly becoming my followers’ favourite brotp tbh 😂
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oh you’re sweet anon, thank you 💛 i hope the new era of the news quiz can be just as witty and wholesome as it has been with miles, and i wish all the newcomers luck because it really is a welcoming and good programme!
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no idea anon! it would surprise me if he hadn’t since he’s been an actor for a long time, but you’d have to ask him ;)
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richard says a lot of things just because he wants to be the only one to have said them. of course no comedians came out and said the lineup for tm s8 looked like shit (comparatively), so richard did. of course no comedians asked an interviewee if they wanted a hand made out of ham, so he did did. this is really typical richard behaviour, and tbh i see why some people find it offputting. when it’s completely surreal, and he’s getting comedians to talk about things you could never imagine hearing them talk about, i’m all in and i think it’s a hilarious waste of time. but when it crosses over into the real world, where richard is giving out his political opinions or begging comedians to get him on tv, he just has no tact. sometimes he strikes a good balance and other times he doesn’t. i thought frankie hated him a while back and it might have resolved itself (like it may have with corden), but apparently not lmao (that is a great interview btw and i can’t get over how eloquent he is in his defense of female comedians...i love him...). but i’m glad your positive spin on this ask is that miles can save anything, because i agree and would like to add that spin to this response, hehe! i imagine the reasons frankie hates richard are the same reasons he loves miles ;)
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well i’ve seen cold lasagna live three times, so what he said on rhlstp compared to what he explains in that show was really disappointing to me. i understand he couldn’t get into everything that had happened and is currently happening, or do the routine there, but it sounded like he only mentioned “i was suicidal lol” and didn’t really give any context to how he’s been doing (which is not great, unfortunately). obviously it’s not our place to demand information about his personal life, and i wouldn’t want to, but to just briefly mention something like that and then gloss over any details or context seemed like a big misstep to me — tonally and otherwise — and richard clearly didn’t know how to deal with it despite doing a half-decent job with stephen fry a couple of years ago. not that any of us have much faith in richard as a serious interviewer lmao. then they didn’t even brighten the mood much by talking about taskmaster (which richard berated), off menu, or doing many emergency questions... it felt really short and shallow, and i actually found it quite boring ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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you need to see this immediately as an induction into this blog’s official religion whose only deity is The Great Sandi Toksvig
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i don’t see it coming up in the usual places — just go here and make a request, and i’m sure you’ll have it by the end of the night :)
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anon i think about this EVERY SINGLE DAY!!! i think my first choice would be the same team on bfq tbh but seeing them on the same series of taskmaster would probably change my life. but honestly i’m SO thirsty for this i will take anything. even just david on the new heresy...please god......
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lmaooo anon i still laugh about this to this day. i wish i could ask you a million questions about real life father sean lock but i’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate people harassing his kids’ friends for details about his private life lmao i’m just glad to hear he sounds like a good dad and he’s a nice guy!! you’re always free to let him know that we here on the interwebz love him to death
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i can’t say for sure anon... i like that she’s so willing to speak up on big panels and take advantage of being thrown to, because a lot of women and/or newbies tend to be polite in this respect and speak briefly when it’s “their turn”. but i really need to see more before i could form an opinion!
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hello anon, this is the new world order tag. to be fair, it’s not a panel show, so it’s not very high priority for me, though i do watch it. always been a big fan of frankie!
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nope!
f.a.q. // tags // watch links masterpost
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Fully Completely 1
Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), attempted violence, mutual irritation.
This is dark!Loki x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Series Synopsis: There’s a new face in Birch and he’s come to haunt your door.
Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, and Little Bones
Note: I did not plan to get the first part done so soon. I will probably be setting time aside as I write this to also work on some original stuff. When it comes to that, I’d love if y’all might let me know what you think would be a better medium to release it? Kindle, Patreon, etc. I’m really not sure but if it was Patreon it would like be two series running at once with a chapter of each a month + Q&A and maybe some bonus materials? I am a noob at this shit and it wouldn’t be for a while yet.
Anyways, I’m rambling...
Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)
I really hope you enjoy. 💋
<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!
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Chapter 1: She simply slammed the door
💀💀💀
The garage smelled like oil and snow. The cold air seeped under the closed metal door as you sat on the low stool and affixed the new headlight to the propped up Harley. It was only the start of an impractical rebuild; your brother wanted everything metal replaced with chrome. You thought it was obnoxious but the parts were paid for and you could never complain for money.
You were funded exclusively by the town’s club, your garage not far from The Asp where the members hung out and revved the engines you found yourself looking at more often than you liked. You were good at what you did though and privileged for it. You had the protection of the club without having to devote yourself truly to its bounds.
You checked the wiring and rolled away from the bike to change the station as the radio crackled. The snow kept setting the speaker to static and the noise was driving you mad. You flipped the switch to play the cassette stuck in the drawer, the old stereo beaten up and filthy. Springsteen’s gristled tones filled the shop and you wheeled back to your brother’s ride.
With the storm would no doubt come more work. Your fingerless gloves itched more than they kept you warm. Your fingertips were numb as you touched the frigid metal and the sweat of your palms made the fabric uncomfortable. You were used to it, rather tolerant as your task kept you distracted.
You were interrupted as you bent to look under the tank and get a good look at the exhaust and the rest of the beast’s entrails. You had the new pieces still wrapped and didn’t intend to do it all at once. Jerome could wait for his tacky redesign.
A loud banging came at the metal door and you glanced over in irritation. Anyone in Birch knew to come in the painted door to the left and not hit the large one. You huffed and stood with a groan, your hips sore from the low stool. 
You fixed the front of your fleece-lined denim jacket and pulled the tail of your plaid shirt from inside your jean pocket. You’d been hunched over so long you were all wrinkled. You went past the large door and into the small entryway off the left of the garage and opened it with a tinkle of the rusty old bell above.
You stuck your head out into the gales as the snow continued to fall and squinted at the man in his thin jacket. He stood beside the long luxury car as another man with wild orange hair remained in the driver’s seat and blew into his hands. They were out of place in the small town and you could tell by the way the man scowled at the door that he knew it.
“Hey,” you called to them, “there’s a place down the street. I don’t do walk-ins.”
“Oh, hello, Miss…” he let his voice trail off as he neared and you stared at him rather than provide your name. His accent, his attire, the curl of his lip, it was clear what he thought of you and the bodunk town, “actually I was referred by an acquaintance. One, James Barnes.”
“Bucky?” you furrowed your brow.
“Mm, yes, that one,” he said, “my car will need detailing. We had some difficulties on the motorway.”
“Right,” you tried not to scowl, “well, if he sent you, I guess I can help.”
You left him and the door clattered behind you. He followed a few steps after as you went to the switch and pushed it to raise the wide door of the garage. You waved in the driver of the car and he carefully pulled in beside your brother’s bike. 
He got out and you were surprised by his size, he was taller even then his companion and wider; neither could be described as short. You lowered the door as the thinner man walked along the shelves and the long table along the other side of the garage. The bigger man stood by the car and tucked his hands in his pockets.
“Not much better in here than out there,” the dark-haired man turned back to you, “you have heat in here?”
“You need a better coat,” you said as you rounded the back of the car, “and some boots.”
You glanced pointedly at his leather shoes and bent to reach under the table. You pulled out the space heater and plugged it in as you set on the wood. You cranked it up and smiled at him tritely.
“So, what’s the damage?” you asked as you looked to the other man.
“Headlight, maybe,” he said in a peculiar accent, “some scratches. We had a bit off a run-in.”
You neared and bent to examine the front of the car. You sighed as you tilted your head and clicked your tongue. It was easy enough to beat out the dents and buff out the scratches with a quick refinish. The headlight would need to be replaced and you knew they didn’t carry anything for that model in town. No one there was pretentious enough to drive it.
“If you want the headlight done before you leave town, it’ll take some time to get the replacement,” you warned.
“Oh, and how do you know I’m leaving?” he taunted coyly.
“Well, I know you’re definitely not sticking around,” you scoffed.
“Why wouldn’t I? A quaint place like this, I’m sure there is so much to explore,” he said dryly.
You had no delusions of what Birch was but it wasn’t the part of outsiders to deride the dead end. You stood straight and put your hands on your hips.
“You can go back to your castle, my lord, but you will have to wait out the storm,” you sneered. “Two days for the scratches. If you want to take it back after that and wait for the headlight to arrive, that’s fine with me.”
“Two days for the scratches? Surely you could do it before the morning,” the black-haired man insisted.
“I could but I have other work to do,” you replied, “so you can be patient and take your turn in line after all the hicks who live here.”
You went back to the table and grabbed your phone from where you tossed it earlier. You unlocked it and searched the model of his car and scrolled through the parts list. 
“You’re Bucky’s guest so I’ll send the bill to him?” you asked, “though you do look to be able to afford it yourself.”
“You can invoice him directly,” he assured, “so you’re one of them?”
“One of them?” you repeated as you focused on checking out. The damn internet kept cutting in and out.
“My brother, those men in this town, I never knew a woman--”
“I’m not a biker. My brother is in the club,” you assured him, “so that big blond dope, he’s your brother?”
“Regrettably, yes,” he slithered, “Loki Odinson,” he introduced himself as he rubbed together his hands, the leather gloves doing little to protect his fingers, “my driver is Korg, and you’ve yet to tell me with whom I am trusting my property.”
“Again, there is a shop down the street. Prices aren’t bad,” you finished up your purchase and tucked your phone in your jacket pocket.
He met your eyes as you turned to him and he looked down his nose. You kept on and brushed past him as you went back around the car and sat by your brother’s bike.
“Sorry about the boss,” the other man, Korg, intoned, “he can be a bit--”
“Don’t apologise for me,” Loki snipped, “I needn’t atone to her.”
You rolled your eyes and wheeled around the side of the bike, “if that’s everything, you two can head back out. I’ll let you know when the car’s ready.”
“We might wait for the snow to calm,” Loki suggested.
“I close in an hour, you’re not staying here all night,” you sniffed.
“Trust me, I have no special desire to spend more time with you than necessary,” he retorted, “I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman so volatile as you, dear, and I’ve only just met you. I never expected you people to have very many manners but perhaps what I did presume was too much.”
You bared your teeth but kept at your work. You would worry about kicking him out when you finished the wiring.
“To be fair, had you not spoken first, I might’ve assumed you were a man,” he added.
You paused and glanced down at the open tool box. You weren’t unused to the comments, you weren’t girly in any way but it wasn’t like you were trying to be a man. You wore what was comfortable and in your work, practicality prevailed over aesthetic. Yet, your years of ridicule as a kid made you less tolerant of the comments and those had stopped long ago because you made sure they did.
“Oh, darling, have I upset you?”
“Don’t call me that,” you said as you reached into the toolbox.
“Well, you’ve not given your name and I’d hate call you what I truly think of you--”
The wrench flew from your hand as you stood and spun to him. It barely missed his head and bounced off the wall and plunked onto the table beside the heater. His eyes rounded and the other man looked at him. There was a thick silence as you glared at him.
“If you weren’t a friend of Bucky’s, I wouldn’t’ve missed,” you hissed, “now I will kindly, before I reach for a bigger wrench, ask you to leave.”
He pushed his shoulders back and tilted his head as his lips thinned dangerously. He swallowed and beckoned the other man with two fingers. His cheek twitched as if he would grin and he nodded subtly.
“Well, darling, how amusing you are. These brutes must adore you,” he snarled, “the exterior does indeed say it all.”
You bent and reached for another tool blindly. He blinked and quickly dodged as you flung the next wrench and he followed his henchman to the entryway. Your temper was a match for many men. It kept you safe.
“Barnes did not say his mechanic was a madwoman,” Loki called back as the bell rang.
“What, are you going to tattle on me?” You stormed towards the doorway, “you precious little princess?”
“Princess?” he met you in the doorway as Korg behind him held the door open and the snow blustered in, “I know Barnes will do me no other favours, but do you think he’ll do you any?”
“Get out,” you spat and shoved him, “I don’t need men to take care of me and I have no problem in proving that.”
He bit the inside of his lip in a crooked smirk and winked before he turned away and strutted out into the snow, shielding his face from the wild winds. Korg trailed behind him and the door sprang back into the frame. You crossed your arms and glared at the peeling paint. 
You were tempted to tow his car out and let it weather the storm but you were smarter than that. If he was doing business with Bucky, you would be a fool to get in the way of it. 
💀
The snow dwindled to a lazy dusting, the ground thick and treacherous. That day, you started early and around noon, you headed across the street to the diner for your usual lunch of a club sandwich and black coffee. You didn’t have to order as all the waitresses knew what to expect. You weren’t unfriendly but your association made many standoffish.
You tapped on the lip of your mug with your thumb, fingers hooked through the handle. The sleepy town felt dead in the winter. You were used to the dullness of Birch but tolerance was hardly happiness. It was home, where you’d grown up and you had no certain desire to get out, but you wouldn’t mind a little more than what was expected.
You yawned and gulped down the last of your coffee. It was bitter and left a few grounds on your tongue. You leaned back and grabbed the monthly newsletter from between the salt and pepper shakers. You read through the fun facts which weren’t very fun or even new. They were copy and pasted out Guinness and Reader’s Digest.
You looked up as you sensed someone approach your table but it wasn’t the waitress. The man from the day before slid coolly onto the seat across from you at the booth and smirked over the table. You raised the newsletter again and folded it backwards to read about the weekly knitting circle down at the rec center that was also the library.
“Good afternoon to you too,” Loki said, “it must be fortune I ran into you, I was hoping to inquire after my car--”
“I told you, two days,” you said tersely as you continued onto your horoscope …‘a new force will bring change’... You hated this tripe. You swore, every month they just switched the blurbs under each sign and hit print.
“So be it,” he cleared his throat and you lowered the paper as he shrugged out of his jacket.
“What are you doing? I eat my lunch alone,” you said.
“Well, to be frank, I was pointed here on the promise of some famous cabbage soup,” he explained as he folded his jacket over the seat next to him, “you looked like you needed company.”
“I don’t,” you assured him.
Kimmie came over and set down your sandwich. She greeted Loki and you saw the way she eyed his tailored suit. He stuck out in the town of flannels and denim.
“Hello, sir, can I get you something to drink?” she asked.
“Tea, English breakfast,” he ordered smoothly.
“Oh, sorry, we only have um, um, sorry, peppermint, earl grey, ginger lemon, and green,” she listed off as she tried to remember them all.
“Earl grey,” he sighed, “and a menu.”
“No, no menu,” you insisted, “and you can take his tea to another table.”
“And when we’re through, I’ll take the cheque,” he ignored you and snickered under his breath.
“Kimmie, can I get a to go box?” you asked as you shimmied off the seat and snatched up your coat, “I have to get back to work.” You took out your wallet and counted out the usual amount plus a tip, “thanks.”
“Of course,” she smiled awkwardly and glanced between you and Loki.
She scooped your sandwich back up and scurried away with it. You felt him watching you as you walked away and went to stand by the till as you watched Nora flit into the kitchen. She packed up your food and returned with the box. You took it and headed for the door, ignoring the arrogant out-of-towner on your way.
“Wait,” Kimmie called out your name and you turned back as she held up your keys, “you dropped these.”
You met her halfway and took them from her with a mutter. Again, he was watching you… or still watching you. She spun and promised she’d have his tea shortly.
“Hmm,” he hummed and you head to the door again, “interesting, I never would have put the name to the face.”
You pushed out into the snow and gritted your teeth. You thought of getting the work on his car out of the way quickly so he would leave you alone but your spite made you want to put it off entirely. Whatever. He’d be gone soon enough.
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luxwritesfanfic · 3 years
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Right Where You Left Me
Reader gets déjà vu in a way she never expected. Or, the one where Sherlock is the gift that never stops giving. AU!Bucky because he always has your back. Enjoy!
Author’s Note: There is a lot of angst and multiple different aspects that could be very triggering for some within this work. Please be mindful of the trigger warning below and if you see something that you feel should be listed, message me and I will edit accordingly!
Trigger Warning: Severe depression, suicidal ideations, suicide attempt (overdose), forced vomiting, talk of death in general, angst with a happy ending
Sherlock Holmes/Reader
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You couldn’t really tell how long you’d been lying in bed for. Time was such a foreign concept to you now. It was either before the fall, when you were happy and he was with you, or after the fall, where you were all alone. You weren’t alone physically because your friends would never allow for that. Since the fall, you’d been staying in Sherlock’s flat, and Mrs. Hudson would always bring you a plate of whatever she was cooking and put it in the fridge. And like clockwork, she’d come every Sunday and clean the fridge out from where you didn’t touch any of the plates. She never seemed to mind, though, and she never stopped bringing you food.  
Bucky would come by every day and check on you and help you do things around the house. And by help you, he did everything for you. Mrs. Hudson would let him stay in John’s old room whenever he needed, and he’d make sure you showered and that your laundry was done. He would tell you he does this because he loves you and that even though you weren’t born his sister, you would die that way.
John had moved on and moved out and you were happy for him. Mary was lovely, and you wished you could move on with your life, but you couldn’t. You knew he was taking it just as hard as you and that you both just had different ways of coping with the pain.  
When you had to quit your job, Mycroft was immediately there and offered to take care of you financially. “Please, allow me to do this for you. It’s what my brother would have wanted. He couldn’t stand me when he was ali—here, so the least I can do is make him happy where he is now,” he said quietly. Pigs must’ve been flying in the window behind you because when you reached to hug Mycroft, he met you halfway. You cried nonstop for days after that.
You had tried to be better after the scare, not for you, but for your family. You don’t remember much from it, but you do know that no one brings it up around you and you haven’t been left alone for longer than a few hours since.
You woke up with your face propped up against something cool, but you could barely open your eyes to see where you were. Your stomach was in the most pain it had ever been in and everything around you sounded so far away. You remember being yanked back and fingers were shoved down your throat and someone, Bucky, was standing over you and holding you up saying through tears, “I know it hurts and I’m sorry, but you have to throw it up, Y/N. You have to. I can’t lose you, too.”  
Everything hurt and in between gags you could hear Mrs. Hudson crying and begging whoever was on the phone to get there faster. You had never heard anyone scream like that and you were sorry you were the one who caused it.
Even though you’d promised Sherlock he would never lose you, Fate stepped in and you lost him. When you thought about the turn your life had taken, you just told everyone you were keeping your end of the deal.  
Bucky knocked on your door and stuck his head in. “Mornin’, Y/N. I’m gonna start some laundry and make us some coffee and then I’ll be back, okay?” You could tell he was worried by the tone of his voice, but he did a good job of hiding it. You didn’t say anything back to it and he didn’t expect you to.  
Bucky came in a little later with some towels in his hand and a coffee in the other. “I know you’re not feeling real good today, so I was thinking I could wash your hair for you? You can just bend over the tub and I’ll do all the work. I’ve even been watching some videos on how to braid and then you won’t have to worry it matting up either.” He set the coffee down on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed next to you.  
By this point you were already crying into the pillow because how could the people in your life love you this much when you had nothing to offer them anymore?
“I love you so much,” you cried, and Bucky’s heart broke at the sound, “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry and I love you.”
He brushed the hair away from your face. His hands were warm, and it made you feel human again. “You don’t have to be sorry. I love you and I will take care of you for however long you need me to. God knows you would-- and have, done the same for me. So, let me wash your hair for you and I can tell you all about how Lestrade constantly shits on Anderson now as an eternal tribute.”  
You smiled and although it wasn’t full of life, he was just as happy to see it. You ended up just getting a shower and Bucky rushed next door to get you a sandwich in hopes that you’d eat for him, too.  
As you were brushing your hair out, you heard multiple voices. You heard Bucky, and he sounded… shocked? And then there was John and then just as you were about to reach for the door you heard it. You would know that baritone voice anywhere. Barging out of the bathroom and almost tripping over your own two feet, you came to a full stop.
“Sherlock?”  
There he stood in the middle of the room with John a few feet behind him, and Bucky with his back to you, seemingly always ready to protect you. It looked like him and it sounded like him, and hell, it even smelled like him. You couldn’t believe it.
“Y/N.” He went to make a step towards you but seemed to have think better of it. It was better if he assessed your reaction to seeing him first. It had been so long since he had last seen you and while he silently fought the raw want he had to hold you, he knew you were seeing red.
“I don’t even—I can’t-- can’t even comprehend this. Where do I start? Where the fuck have you been? You were dead, Sherlock! I watched you…” You squeezed your eyes shut, steeling yourself the best you could. You weren’t going to cry. You had too much to say. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw John and Bucky slip through the front door. You were sure that was their best bet.
Sherlock said nothing as you went off because there was really nothing for him to say. He understood why you were so mad with him, even if he wasn’t generally self-aware when it came to his own feelings, he wasn’t that daft. He had come prepared for this and he was going to make it right.
“No, you know what? Don’t say anything. I don’t even want to hear it. I have been fucking rotting in this flat while everyone else was able to move on with their lives. I was here, because I couldn’t live without you. My world stopped. I do nothing, Sherlock, nothing but sit and lay in your bed and cry into your old shirts!” You were yelling now, hands running through your hair as you tried to make sense of it all. Somewhere in the back of your mind you made a mental note to thank Bucky for making you get up and shower this morning.
“I quit my job, Sherlock. Mycroft has been paying to keep me alive and Mrs. Hudson and Bucky take turns to make sure I’m still breathing every other hour because they’re scared that if I’m left alone for too long, I won’t be. And poor John, I see him and start fucking bawling because then all I see is you. I stopped caring about everything, and everyone else, because the only person I cared about looked me in the eyes and walked off a fucking building!”
Sherlock opened his mouth to say something, but you quickly cut him off.  
“Seriously, don’t speak. You don’t get to just waltz in with John after all this time—you know what? There’s the million-dollar question. Was I the only one who didn’t know you were alive? Because so help me God, Sherlock, I’m this close to losing it.”
He didn’t know whether or not he should actually speak, but he took the cue after he started to physically feel the heat from the deathly glare you were giving him. You quite literally looked deranged but that didn’t stop him from taking a step towards you. He always seemed to chase danger, and you were no exception.
“No… you weren’t the only one. John only just found out a few weeks ago, and only a few select people knew the whole time.” Sherlock was careful with his words. He knew he was walking on thin ice.
You didn’t say anything to that, and Sherlock found that even scarier than when you were yelling.
“Hah, select people, huh? I like that one. So, where were you staying? Were you in London this whole time? Shit, you could’ve been downstairs for all I know. I guess I wouldn’t be a select person to know that, though, would I?”
Sherlock grimaced. Things were going worse than he imagined, and he already figured it would be pretty bad. That was an understatement. “I had to jump around often for everyone’s safety, but I stayed in London for the most part. I stayed with Molly when I could.”
You laughed in his face at that, and you clamped your hand over your mouth, turning your back on him lest you start laughing again. He watched you with furrowed brows and you knew he wanted to speak but you couldn’t do it right now.  You took a few steps towards the kitchen window and looked out at the bustling London streets beneath you. For months your world stopped, and it seemed so real when in reality nothing stopped at all.  
“Great, great. That’s so great. Splendid, really.” You murmured to yourself and perched your free hand on your hip. Drumming your fingers against your lips, you began again.  
“Bucky had to glue the windows down because he thought I was going to jump, and you were staying with Molly.” The tone of your voice was venomous and if looks could kill, Sherlock Holmes would be dead for real this time.
Sherlock winced. “Y/N, please, let me—” You cut him off, speaking louder this time. Your face was void of emotion, but your eyes betrayed you as the tears started to fall freely and your voice cracked under the weight of everything that was being said.
“Bucky had to glue the windows down because I thought I was going to jump, and you were staying with Molly! Damn you, Sherlock Holmes! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” You grasped at the kitchen counter to steady yourself as you gasped for air between the sobs that you couldn’t contain anymore. Your heart ached so badly that you actually clutched your chest, afraid that it was going to break through your ribcage and abandon ship. You could barely register Sherlock coming up behind you through your tears and as he willed you to face him, you noticed that his eyes were brimmed red and glossy. Even sad, Sherlock looked as beautiful as a doll.
“I always come when you call, why didn’t you come for me?” You cried, fisting your hands in his shirt so tightly that you thought heard buttons pop. Your head was swimming and you had never felt more betrayed in your life. How could Sherlock turn to anyone but you? Had you not made it clear that you would do anything for him?  
“I called for you every single night, Sherlock! Begged for you, mourned you, I—” The tears wouldn’t stop flowing and your voice was starting to crack from its sudden and harsh overuse.
It was then that Sherlock wedged himself so close to you that you didn’t even have the space to move your head and look up at him. A pair of strong arms wrapped around your back and you were being squeezed so hard to him that you thought you’d either die from a heart attack or suffocation. And even now at the hands of Sherlock, neither seemed that bad. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He whispered against your forehead again and again as if he was repeating a chant he had been practicing for some time.
“I love you so much and you didn’t even call! Why didn’t you call?” Your words were lost to the both of you now, spoken into his shirt and distorted by your sobs. Sherlock held you as you cried and tried to contain your shaking body against his as you let out months of sadness and pain and despair. You were so overwhelmed that you couldn’t think straight.  
“I know, I know you do, and that’s why I couldn’t call. I couldn’t call for you.” He held onto you as he spoke like you would disappear. Sherlock had decided before he even stepped foot into the flat that he would not lose you again. In his time away from you, he was subjected to feelings he could only describe as both love and heartbreak in equal measure. Being apart from you had left him feeling a void that nothing could fill, but it was his love for you that he relied on to keep you safe and away from him.  
Sherlock pulled back from you and while it was only by a few inches, you suddenly felt worlds away. You go to pull him back to you when he gathers your hands in his and leaves a trail of ghostly kisses along the spread of your knuckles.  
“I have never begged for mercy in my life…” He murmurs, eyes never leaving yours. He was determined; that much you could tell. Your eyes widened as he lowered himself to one knee, and then two. “Until now. I have hurt you in ways that are beyond comprehensible. Please, grant me the mercy I do not deserve to explain myself. I am willing to bare myself before you if you’ll have me.”
You were in shock at the sight of Sherlock on his knees before you. You had heard him apologize maybe twice in your time of knowing him and here he was, begging for you to hear him out. All you could do is nod.
You expected him to stand up again, but he sat in place and looked up at you with so much love in his eyes that felt all the anger you were harboring dissipate under his gaze. He took a deep breath and prepared himself. If you were ever going to forgive him, he knew that he would have to be honest. And he knew that if he was going to be honest, he would have to admit the feelings he had for you and hope that he could express them in a way that you could understand.
“There were constantly people watching you, and John, and pretty much everyone else who held any value in my life,” he explained, rubbing his thumbs over your fingers as he spoke absentmindedly, “they knew you would be suffering, they counted on that. And if you weren’t, they’d know something was going on. Your suffering had to be real, or else it wouldn’t have been believable. I didn’t want to keep you in the dark. But I had no choice. When I faked my death, I had some help. I stayed with Molly here and there because she already knew, and my relationship with her is is…different for ours.” He paused.  
You were hanging on every word he said. You could tell he was being sincere, and even though you were upset, you understood. If leaving Sherlock meant protecting him, you would do it too.  
He cleared his throat and started again. “Molly was a safer option. They would have expected less of a reaction from her. And if things were to go wrong…” Trailing off, Sherlock squeezed your hands. You knew what he was trying to say, and you didn’t dare breathe. “You were not someone I could lose. It couldn’t have been you. So yes, I stayed with Molly, but I worked constantly to make it so that I could come home to you.”
You couldn’t take it anymore. “Sherlock,” you whimpered, pulling him to his feet by his collar and back to you where he belonged. He followed suit quickly like he was reading your mind.  
For what seemed like the first time today, you were truly taking him in. He was just as beautiful as he was the day he left you. You reached up to brush away a stray curl from his eyes and smiled at the way he seemed to try and follow your touch.  
There were so many things that you couldn’t be sure of, but this is something you’d always know to be true. You loved Sherlock, terribly, terribly, so. If loving him was the only purpose you ever found in this lifetime, you would be sure not to fail him.
You were lost in other when the sound of footsteps climbing up the stairs drew your attention. Sherlock followed your gaze as you watched John enter the flat from the living room.
“Is everyone okay up here? There was a lot of yelling and then it got pretty quiet…” As he rounded the corner to the kitchen, he stopped in his tracks at the sight of you braced against the counter with a small amount of space between you and Sherlock that he must’ve recently graced you with because you could barely move before. His hands rested on your hips and your hands had found solace on his shoulders. John looked like a deer caught in headlights before he covered his eyes with his hands and made to walk back out, determined not to ruin the moment that all of London was waiting on.
“Fuck, I’m sorry! Don’t mind me, pretend I was never here!” He called out as he dashed back down the stairs so quickly you thought he had fallen and you were sure you heard him say to someone, “I told you so!”
You couldn’t help but laugh at the whole situation and when you looked back at Sherlock, you realized he was already looking at you. Even after everything today, you still caught yourself feeling nervous under his heavy gaze.  
“So, it’s okay when you stare but not when I do?” You teased, hoping that he couldn’t see the blush you could surely feel. Sherlock squinted his eyes at your comment as if he didn’t understand what you meant but gave you a devilish smile all the same.  
“I’m sorry.” He wasn’t. “But you are confirming that you do stare at me, right?”  
You were torn between smacking the smirk off his face or kissing it, whatever compelled you the most and right now it was a tie. Rolling your eyes, you brought your hands down to his arms and gave them a squeeze. Not even realizing you were thinking out loud, you whispered something about having déjà vu. This caught Sherlock’s attention, and he moved tiniest bit closer to you. “Déjà vu? How so?”
Cursing yourself under your breath, you laughed and dipped your head down between the two of you, laughing at how ridiculous all of this was. “Jeez, it’s been years now. I had the most realistic dream that’s stuck with me all this time.”
Sherlock tsked at you and moved to bring your head back up so that he could properly see your face. He cupped your cheeks and in the most familiar way and just like in the dream, you were breathless.  
“Go on,” he urged, voice like velvet, “tell me what happened in your dream.”
You all but melted under his gaze. Sherlock, in any form, would always have this effect on you it seemed. His thumb brushed along your lower lip as his own parted. Physically he was with you, but mentally he was far away committing this memory to only a place he could see.
“Use your words. I’m paying raft attention, aren’t I?” Once again you thanked Mrs. Hudson and her choice in countertops because if it was any less sturdy you were sure you would collapse and bring him down with you. On second thought—
Any coherent thought was lost to you when Sherlock nosed your cheek, and you couldn’t help the gasp that left your lips or the words after.
“I told you I loved you, Sherlock. That’s what happened in the dream.” Your words were spoken so quickly in the effort to chase after his lips but he held you still, waiting and wanting in front of him.  
You whined like a child. None of anything that happened today was fair to you, but one kiss and you would forgive all of London for keeping your detective’s secret.
“Well, I guess the only proper response to that is for me to tell you that I’ve loved you for ages, my dear girl.” He smiled against your skin and you thought that this was it. You had officially lost your last marble, and this was the delirium finally setting in. You welcomed the insanity happily.
“Say it again, please. I need to hear you say it again.” You begged, everything hitting you at all at once.
“I love you,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. “I love you, and it’s only ever been you. It couldn’t be anyone else but you. You…didn’t you know that?” His eyebrows rose up and you stopped him in his tracks. That was Sherlock for “are you dumb?”
It was then that you decided you were done with talking before he had the chance to say anything smart. You pulled him down to you so quickly that you missed the shock that flashed in his eyes when your lips finally met. After years of yearning and pining for the man in front of you, you finally had him right where you wanted him. There were so many things you wanted to say to him, but no words would express how you truly felt about him and lucky for you, Sherlock was more of a hands-on learner.  
When you finally broke apart, you got to admire the man of your every hour in all his glory. The mussed hair and kiss swollen lips really added to his already suave look and you couldn’t help but smile like an idiot. “You’re handsome. So handsome, seriously, it should really be a crime. I can finally tell you that without any shame.”
He returned your smile tenfold, and you thought if you could make his eyes crinkle like that just one more time in your life that it would be a life well lived. He acted as if he was mulling your statement over, rolling his bottom lip between teeth. “You could’ve mentioned it before. It might’ve helped me make my deductions much sooner.”
You slapped him on the shoulder but then worked on smoothing his shirt out while he watched you with a gentle fondness that he reserved just for you. You still had so many questions that you wanted answered but you knew those could wait. Something had been generous enough to answer your most asked prayer and you weren’t about to be ungrateful for even a second.  
Placing one last (for now) kiss on his cheek, you led him to the door to the flat and swung it open. “Hey, has Mrs. Hudson seen you—”
As if on perfect cue, Mrs. Hudson shrieks so loudly that any bad memory you have of her yelling is now a good one.
“Sherlock!”
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bitchassbucky · 3 years
Text
.zip
Word Count: 2k
Warning/s: toxic/abusive relationship dynamics, gaslighting and manipulation, abduction, injuries were mentioned, stalking, dark!bucky x dark!reader, emotionally/mentally unstable!reader, dismemberment (not gore-y but still), three very special character mentions, shady corporate stuff, career sabotage?, food mention, sedation/drugging, f-words.
A/N: oh my god, this is the final chapter of CTRL. to all who read from the start, thank y'all so fucking much - from the bottom of my big-ass heart, thank you so much for coming along with this journey. this is my first FINISHED series, oh my god. to @babyboibucky (CTRL's number one fan), @sarge-barnes-sir, and @borikenlove thank you so much for indulging my inner degenerate GHJSDFG and for screaming (affectionately) at me when i first let y'all read the finished draft.
BUT THIS IS NOT THE END (just yet), i will be uploading TWO epilogues very soon: the explicit version and the not-so-explicit version. stay tuned!
follow the CTRL series:
i - .exe
ii - .avi
iii - .raw
iv - .png
v - .zip
epilogue:
.eps (explicit)
.eps (cut)
CTRL playlist CTRL moodboard
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Your demeanor, character, even tone, changed.
Calculated, cold, unnerving.
But you sat there like a housewife in front of her husband, eating spaghetti and meatballs. Acting all dandy like there isn’t a man strapped onto the chair four feet away from you.
“C’mon, darling, eat! I made your favorite,” your eyes twinkled as Bucky helplessly tugged on his restraints, “oh, sorry, you’re tied up.”
Hm, sick in the head, bad for the heart.
“What do you want?” Oh, wow, even talking hurts for him. His throat is all dried up, he tasted something bitter under his tongue.
You chuckled, moving half a meatball around your mostly empty plate, “for you to stop treating me like I’m stupid.” You spear the meat with your fork, swirling it in the sauce, “I know you’ve been… checking in on me, Bucky.”
Oh, fuck.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I was-- I mean, look at you--” He’s making it worse. You’re mad. You’re angry because he was being a good friend.
He only did that because you were lonely and he’s right: you are lonely.
So lonely that you’re willing to kidnap a grown man to keep you company, “I’m so sad for you.”
“You’re aware you’re the one’s been tied up, right?” You’re curt as you should be, scooting over near Bucky to feed him.
“I can’t eat that—” If he wasn’t sitting down and tied, Bucky would’ve vaulted over you and called the neighbors, she’s fucking crazy!
You giggled, rolling your eyes as if he had the freedom to make a choice right now, “if you’re thinking of screaming… More than half of my neighbors are felons or on parole, I doubt that they’ll call 911.”
Jutting forward the fork, you let the prongs gently touch Bucky’s lips, “now, eat! We have so much to talk about.”
“No. I don’t-- I’m not hungry.” He shakes his head, the fork hitting his chin and clanking down the floor.
“Just eat the fucking food, Steve!”
Bucky flinched at your sudden outburst. The words—the name—seeping in a moment later. Steve? Who the hell is Steve? Was he your husband? Boyfriend? His head throbbed again, his mouth filling with saliva like he’s about to throw up.
You kneel down, pulling a napkin from the table to wipe the meat and the sauce from the floor.
“This better not stain.”
He promised thrice.
Once over pasta and meatballs, once over dessert, and once when you were clearing the table.
You relented, of course. Half because you love him and half because it’s getting annoying.
“As long as you don’t leave me, okay?”
“Yes, I promise. I won’t leave you.”
Bucky’s still seating on the dinner chair, slightly slumped without the ropes holding him up, “look, I’m really sorry about the anesthetic, I went overboard with it.” You look over to him—at least he’s regaining his fingers and arms again.
“It’s okay, babe, I wouldn’t trust me either.” If he could stand up, he’d go over and hug you. Helping with the dishes, peppering you with sweet kisses.
A genuine laugh slips out of your lips, “ugh, still… I’m really sorry.”
The last of the plates were neatly stacked, cups and cutleries were placed gently on a drying rack. It was getting late, you could tell.
“I’m not mad, by the way.” You muse, prompting Bucky to lean forward, listening to you.
“What do you mean?” He takes your hand into his, ever so gently.
“You did that,” you squeeze his hand back, gazing into his soulful eyes, “because you love me.”
Did you know that some people could read microexpressions well? Bucky went through a whole lot of them before answering, “of course, I do.”
Contemplating whether you call him out on it or not, you hum, placing a gentle hand on his jaw, “it’s okay, you’ll learn how to love me.”
He has to. He has no other choice.
Bucky clears his throat, “have you seen my phone?” His tone was hopeful, upbeat, maybe he can reach out to someone, anyone, before you can do any more damage.
“Yeah, ‘s on the couch.”
He tried to move, he really did. Bucky’s fairly strong, he can bench an easy 140 on a good day. But even the beefiest motherfuckers have no match for Propofol.
“Don’t worry about your friends, they’re not worried about you, Buck.” The coolness of your tone sends Bucky into a panic—again. “D’you wanna check your messages though? There’s a lot of ‘em.”
Grabbing his phone, you asked Siri to read him his latest notifications.
Urgent: Notice of Immediate Termination
From Joaquin: Where are you, man?
From John W.: Do you have copies?
Urgent: Notice of Immediate Termination
Urgent: Gross Misconduct
From Joaquin: Bucky, what the fuck?
From Samuel Wilson: Pick up the phone, Barnes. You’re fired.
17 missed calls from an unknown number
From John W.: I knew you were a freak but holy shit, dude!
72 text messages from an unknown number
Bucky never really liked horror movies. It made him jumpy and anxious. Too paranoid, even. But now? Now he’s sure that people have never experienced sheer fright before.
His toes cramped inside his boots, his feet were cold, sweating. The little hairs on his legs stood up, goosebumps littering the entirety of his body. If he held his breath, he’s sure he could hear his heart hammering out of his chest. The blood rushes past his ears and onto the base of his skull—he’s gonna be sick.
“What,” he gulped back the saliva pooling in his mouth, “what did you do?”
You’re irritatingly calm, “well, I mean… We’re already together, what do you need those for, right?”
Putting a warm hand over his forehead, you cooed, “poor thing, you look sick.”
Bucky thinks it’s well past midnight when the anesthetic wore off.
His limbs were heavy, he had to lean on the wall every couple of steps to regain his balance. Helpless. He’s helpless and you both know it. As if it’s a bear trap, Bucky carefully took his phone from the coffee table.
Why would you leave it unattended?
The screen lights up as soon as he picked up, his lock screen littered with ‘fuck yous’, ‘sicko’, and his personal favorite, ‘motherfucker.’
Ignoring the glaring messages, he went straight for the emergency dialler and—you took out his SIM card, snapping it into two neat pieces, placing it beside the phone.
Bitch.
The golden surface of the card was scratched too, he can’t do anything, use it as a toothpick, maybe? His phone was just as good as a paperweight.
He looks out of the window, limping towards it. Even if he could climb over, it would take him forever to get onto the street. Your neighbors would probably think that he’s just on a bad trip.
“It’s bolted shut. Perks of living alone as a single female.” Your voice made him flinch back, like a kid whose hand was halfway down the cookie jar.
Bucky plays it off with a cough, he can’t be weak now, “no, babe, I was checking out a noise. You ready for bed?”
You smiled softly, taking his hand and draping his arm on your shoulders as you prop him against you, “almost, big guy. Gotta get you settled in bed first. Are you tired?”
Nodding, Bucky kisses your temple, “yeah.” He just needs to play with your sick little games until he regains his strength.
Where would he go? His reputation and his job are besmirched, his apartment is probably crawling with forensics too.
“You fell down and banged your head earlier. Nasty cut on your head too. I told you to not tire yourself much.”
You hit and drugged me but I digress, “Yes, darling. ‘M sorry.”
“You scared me, Buck. I thought you were dead.” Are these tears forming in your eyes?
“I’m not leaving you, not by any chance. I promise.”
He promises a fourth time.
Your bedroom was bigger than he thought. But of course, he only saw your desk and your bed through the webcam.
Save from the Ted Bundy-esque corkboard you have in front of your workspace, he feels weirdly at home. You tucked him in, reminding him to wake up every two hours for the painkillers.
“You’re not going to bed?” He muses from behind you, all cocooned in your blankets.
“Just need to take this phone call real quick, babe.” Your back was turned from him as you work on your company laptop. He noticed that the webcam is covered with white tape.
The sound of an incoming call filled the room before you quickly answer it, your voice turning hoarse and raspy as if you’ve been crying.
Hi, Mr. Wilson. I’m so sorry for the late call. Do I- do I need to come in tomorrow? I just... I don’t feel comfortable facing everyone—I used all my home hours this week and—
Miss L/N, I’m glad you reached out to me. Is it okay if I record this call for security purposes? It’s just for you, me, and the HR department.
You turned to Bucky, your face is stone-cold but your voice belonged to someone so utterly helpless.
No, you don’t have to call into work tomorrow… Or any other day.
A dainty gasp and a fucking sob comes out of your mouth, your eyes were telling a different story.
Am I fired?
God, no. Please, Miss L/N, don’t worry about that. We want you with us through this entire debacle. We want you to take some time off—paid. We’ll also grant you… a grievance package.
You could almost hear what he would say next.
As long as you don’t talk to any members of the press or any journalists until our friends in the PR department can clean this up.
A triumphant smile creeps on your bare features, putting a finger in front of your lips, you mimic a ‘shh’ gesture to Bucky.
You round up another mirthless sob as the CEO drones on about the bureaucracy of this whole thing.
He was really nice to me, you know? He took me out on dinners and lunches. He even brought me to his place and I– nothing happened but I can’t stop thinking about it.
I’m really sorry, Miss L/N. I thought he was…
A good guy? I really thought so too.
Please stay offline for a bit, just for the weekend, alright? Someone from the HR department will be in touch with you for the process. We don’t wanna be a hassle more than what Barnes is. On our behalf, please accept our deepest apologies.
Jesus, this guy had the PR department cook up an apology letter.
Thank you—thank you so much, Mr. Wilson. I’ll keep in touch.
You burst out in laughter a second after the call ended. Hearty laughter, the one where you can feel your belly tightening.
“Did you hear how good I was, baby? Oh my god, we had them fooled.”
We? Fuck your ‘we.’
You slide over the covers, propping up yourself with your elbow as you turn to face Bucky, “don’t worry, you don’t need them anymore. You have me, yeah? We have each other.”
Out of the most bizarre things that happened to him last week, finding dismembered fingers in the fridge was the least of his concerns.
“Honey!” Bucky calls out, holding the ziplock bag with a pair of tongs.
You bound down the stairs, your laptop in hand as you squint, “what am I looking at?”
Bucky hesitated, maybe he’s going insane too, “fingers. Dismembered fingers—are these yours?”
Setting down the laptop onto the table, you peck him on the cheek, smiling as if him holding a baggie with human remains is just your Sunday normal, “god, I hope not. I need my hands to do things.”
As soon as you look back at him, you dropped the facade: “those are Steve’s. Well, used to be.”
Bucky’s afraid to ask the question where’s the rest of him?
“You know the term pinky promise, right? Well, it has a dark origin.”
Just as fast as a bustling train, Bucky rakes his brain for all the times he promised you something. Hoping that he won’t end up with a stump for a hand.
One vividly bright memory is seared into his brain though, the days blurred together with sharp edges and mismatched colors: we love how we were taught to love.
So, who taught you how to love like this?
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IN LIFE, IN DEATH...
PART NINE
:Masterlist:
Warnings: swearing
A/N: It’s Unsaid Emily time, folks. Also sorry this took me forever to post, I’ve been sick. Feedback is always appreciated! <3
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"This is fine."
You rambled quietly as you paced up and down Hollywood Boulevard.
The familiar sounds of the cars on the road and the conversations of people walking by calmed you down a little, but you were still dizzy trying to keep up with your own feet. 
Alex, who was watching you carefully from a bus bench cleared his throat, making you stop in your tracks. "Was what I think was happening in there actually happening?"
"Yes." You said immediately. "No. Maybe? I don't know."
Alex stared at you for a minute before sighing deeply and pinching the bridge of his nose. "(Y/n), I mean this in the most loving way possible, but you need to get your shit together."
"What?" You sputtered. Alex was usually so sympathetic and understanding when it came to giving you advice, but as he took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair, you prepared yourself for one of his 'big brother' lectures.
"I'm sorry, but you've been so disgustingly in love with each other your whole lives. Except you were the only one who realized it. Then that summer you guys were practically glued to each other, I thought that he finally figured it out too. I was just about to give Reg his twenty bucks..."
You shifted your weight as you thought back to that day at the beach, when you had stood there in the sand and let yourself think about what it would be like if Luke liked you back.
"But then he started ignoring you and being an idiot." Alex continued. "At first I thought that maybe he was just coming up with a way to tell you, but then it just never ended. It killed me to see how much it was hurting you, and I was all set to lock him in his guitar case."
You laughed a little at that and Alex smiled. “But judging by tonight, I think he realizes it now too.”
After spending so much time thinking Luke didn’t feel the same way, it was a reflex to try to deny it or come up with some excuse. But you realized that you really couldn’t anymore. You groaned loudly and plopped down on the bench.
“This isn’t fair.” You said. “I mean, I finally have an idea of what’s happening in his head just in time for us to die.. again.”
“That’s why you need to talk about it!’ Alex insisted. “Before anything else, you guys were best friends who told each other everything. Do you really want to cross over or whatever without telling him how you feel?”
Of course you didn’t. But you also didn't see the point of telling him if you were just going to disappear forever. What if you were misreading everything? Or what if you can’t figure out a way to play at the Orpheum and…?
You quickly pushed the thought out of your mind. You weren’t ready to think about any of that. With another groan, you leaned over onto Alex’s shoulder. “Al?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think we’ll ever stop having boy problems?”
Alex laughed and you couldn’t help but join in. You wanted to pause this moment in time and just stay here with your best friend, far away from all your problems. But then there was a bright light and suddenly Willie was standing on the sidewalk in front of you.
“Alex, can we talk?”
You sat up straight and looked between the two of them, raising your eyebrows at Alex in a silent question. He nodded and you gave him a reassuring smile before poofing away.
 -
You wandered around the city for a while before heading back to the garage, frowning when you found it empty.
You knew that Reggie was probably inside with Ray or Carlos but Luke was usually always here at this time of the day. You looked over to the table to see Luke’s songbook sitting open and you frowned in confusion. Luke had been extra secretive with his songs since Julie read them at practice, so it was weird for it to be out in the open for anyone to see.
As you went to close it, you saw that it was turned to ‘Unsaid Emily’. You ran your finger over the words, your heart flipping as you looked at his little notes and scribbles in the margins. It looked like the edges of the paper were blotted with tears.
You now figured that he was at his parent’s and your heart ached for him. It was obvious from the way he disappeared to their house every moment he could that he wanted to reconnect with them but you didn’t know it was this bad. Waves of guilt washed over you. You knew he wasn’t mad at you, but you still felt a little guilty about pushing so hard about Bobby when all Luke wanted was for his parents to be proud of him.
You got an idea and gently ripped out the page, knowing that there was a finalized version in your journal that Luke could have. But you knew that his parents having the version with his own handwriting and little notes as he workshopped it would be a lot more meaningful.
You folded it up and placed it in your pocket before poofing out of the garage and into the school hallway. You made a beeline for Julie's locker, getting there just in time to see Nick walking away with a blush and a triumphant smile.
Before you could even say a word, Julie put her phone to her ear and opened her mouth to scold you for showing up at her school again but she couldn't stop smiling long enough to get the words out.
"So, what did I miss?" You teased, making Julie roll her eyes.
"Nick might've just asked me out." She shrugged, trying to seem casual. "And I might've said yes."
You cheered and folded your arms. "I told you so."
"Shut up." Julie laughed and shoved her hand through the air next to your shoulder. "What are you doing here anyway?"
Your smile faded a little, having forgotten about your plan for a moment. You cleared your throat and carefully unfolded the paper to show Julie.
“I need your help.”
-
You and Julie walked side by side up the Patterson’s driveway.
You rubbed the page between your fingers and it seemed to get heavier in your hands with every step. You had been so sure that this plan would work but now you were actually here, you felt like this might be a bad idea.
You and Luke just got back to being friends again. Maybe even something more now after last night. The last thing you wanted to do was mess any of that up.
But you knew how much he missed his family. Even if he never said it out loud, you knew that he regretted leaving them more than anything.
Julie seemed to sense your thoughts and smiled at you reassuringly as you reached the porch. You handed Julie the paper as went to ring the doorbell. But before she could, Luke phased in front of the door.
“What are you guys doing here?” He asked, his eyes finding yours immediately.
Julie stepped forward a little. “I just, I wanted to know more about you guys so I asked (Y/n) to bring me here this time.”
“This time?” Luke repeated.
“We might’ve stopped by on your birthday.” She admitted.
“So you guys have been spying on me?” He scoffed at her. “After all your talks about boundaries?”
“This was my idea, Luke.” You explained, making him look over at you again. “I asked Julie to help because I’m worried about you.”
Luke’s jaw clenched slightly. “You don’t have to be.”
“Of course I do.” You said. “I understand. I know what it’s like to not be able to reach someone you love.”
Luke blinked rapidly, tears starting to brim in his eyes as he stared at you. He knew you were talking about your parents and Cece. But a little part of you meant him too, and how he had felt like a stranger to you for the better part of a year. “I wouldn’t even know what I’d say to her even if she could hear me.”
You pulled the song out of your pocket and smoothed out the paper before holding it out for him to see. “Maybe start with this.”
Luke instantly recognized it and there was a moment of heavy silence as he scanned the paper with his eyes before he slowly nodded. You handed it to Julie and pressed the doorbell, moving aside so she could stand on the welcome mat.
Luke fell back into the space next to you, watching the door with anticipation. A minute passed before it creaked open and Mitch stuck his head out. He greeted Julie and she introduced herself before clearing her throat.
“I believe you had a son named Luke?”
A look of pain crossed Mitch’s face but he nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”
“Your son’s band used to play in my family’s garage.” She said as she stroked the song between her fingers. “I came across this song that he wrote and I figured you might be interested.”
“Yes, of course.” Mitch opened the door and invited her in. You and Luke followed behind her closely. You looked all around the living room, smiling when your eyes fell on a picture that was propped up on a small table. It was taken on the day you both started high school. You were squishing Luke’s cheeks with your hand as he protested, although there was a bright smile on his face.
It warmed your heart to know that Emily had kept that picture after all this time. You looked back at Luke to see him already looking at you with an almost wistful look on his face.
Julie glanced at the picture before asking Mitch, “Do you have any other children?”
Mitch shook his head and the room got quiet for a second before Emily came in. “Did I hear the doorbell?”
Luke instantly tensed behind you, unconsciously taking a step back. You reached out and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze before letting so just as fast. But before it could even fall back to your side, Luke wrapped it back around his.
You held onto him a little tighter than necessary, keeping him as close to you as possible because you couldn't even imagine how hard this moment was for him. Emily gave Julie a warm smile as she tucked herself into Mitch’s side.
“Julie lives in the place where Luke and the band used to rehearse.” He clarified. “She was just telling me that she found a song he wrote.”
“It’s about a girl named Emily.” Julie said as she looked down at the paper.
Emily gasped a little as she stepped forward slowly. “I’m Emily.”
“Then I think your son wrote this song for you.” Julie handed the song over and then stepped back slightly, giving them space to read it. The air became charged with emotion as they began crying, the paper shaking in Emily’s hands.
You knew the basics of what happened that night, but as you stood there, it was like a movie reel started playing and you could almost see Luke storming out, ignoring his mom calling out for him and running away until he got to the studio.
You remembered holding him in your arms later that night as he cried tears of frustration, sadness, and worry and before you knew it, you were doing it again. You dropped his hand and wrapped your arms around him and he immediately buried his head into your shoulder, sniffling quietly.
“Thank you.” You heard Emily say tearfully and you pulled away just enough to see her pressing the paper tightly against her chest.
Julie gave her a watery smile, wiping away tears of her own as she continued talking to them. Just as Emily laughed, Luke disappeared from your arms and you heard the sharp pop of him phasing away.
You looked at the spot where he was just standing and a part of you wanted to follow but you knew that he probably needed space. You followed Julie out the door and you walked beside each other in comfortable silence, each of you processing everything that just happened.
“Thank you for helping.” You said.
“Of course.” Julie smiled.
“So, when’s the date?” You teased as you wiggled your eyebrows.
“Remember what I said about shutting up?” She rolled her eyes but there was a bright smile on her face.
-
It was just after sunset when you got back to the house.
You couldn't remember the last time you had laughed as hard as you did when you were with Julie. It was still new to you, having a friend like her. You connected on so many levels and it only added to the guilt of keeping the secret about the stamps from her. 
Just as you reached the walkway up to the front door, Julie nodded her head towards the porch where Luke was leaning against the railing. She mouthed ‘go’ before walking through the garden gate that led to the studio.
As soon as she was gone, you hopped up the stairs and cleared your throat. “I’m sorry. I know I overstepped and-”
“No, I just had to leave.” Luke stepped forward. “That was…I mean, how do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“You just always know what I need.” He said. “I never really had any regrets other than running out on them. I’ve been wanting to do something about it but I didn’t know how.”
You smiled. “You would’ve done the same for me.”
“Still,” Luke insisted. There was that look again. The same one that he gave you on stage, the one you saw last night just before Alex came in. The one he gave you the night he ran away. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” You almost whispered, only now realizing how close you had gotten. Luke was only a few feet in front of you, and he looked almost nervous. Just as he stopped in front of you, a jolt flashed across his chest, sending him backward into a pillar.
He groaned and you winced in sympathy as you raced up to him. “Are you okay?”
Luke nodded, but he looked a lot paler than usual. “We’re running out of time.”
Just then, Julie came storming up the walkway, her fists clenched at her sides. She didn’t even bother looking at either of you as she marched up the stairs and disappeared behind the door.
“I’m guessing Alex and Reg told her.” You said and looked back at Luke to see him rubbing the sore spot on his chest. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”
Even before you walked through the doors, you could feel the cloud of sadness, guilt, and regret hanging in the air. You couldn’t imagine how Julie was feeling right now. She had just gotten back into music again after losing her mom and now she was losing more important people and her band all at once.
You walked Luke over to the couch and plopped on the ground next to the coffee table, watching absentmindedly as Alex tried to balance his drumsticks on his nose. Then trying not to laugh when Julie came storming in and he fell to the floor.
“I think you broke Alex.” Reggie said.
The scowl on Julie’s face didn’t falter, and she looked pointedly at each of you. 
“Do you guys want to cross over or what?” She asked, her arms crossed as you all stayed quiet. “Get it together!”
“They’re never going to let us play the Orpheum.” Luke said. “We’re nobody.”
“Our video is going viral, that counts for something!” Julie insisted. “This isn’t over. We were brought together for a reason, to help each other.”
You found yourself nodding along with what she was saying, her enthusiasm eating away at the feeling of hopelessness you’d been carrying around. You could tell by the slight smile on Reggie and Luke’s faces that they felt the same way.
“Yeah, but like Luke said, people don’t just play the Orpheum because they want to.” Alex said.
“People don’t.” She agreed, a hint of a smirk on her face. “But ghosts do.”
-
December 1994
It was a rainy night in L.A.
The flashes of lightning and occasional roar of thunder echoed through the garage so loudly that any hope you had of focusing on studying was long gone.
You sighed and shoved your textbooks into your bag before leaning back on the couch and staring at the ceiling. The stress of studying had started to give you a headache but you felt a little more relaxed as you stared at white Christmas lights hung across the loft's railing. 
There was a loud bang on the side of the building and for a second, you thought it was just another clap of thunder. But then the garage doors swung open.
You were frozen in fear for a moment before you made out Luke’s figure in the dim light. He didn’t seem to see you as he stormed in and threw his backpack on the ground, making its contents spill out. It wasn’t until you cleared your throat that he spun around with wide eyes.
“Hey.” You said. “What are you doing here so late?”
Luke's eyes held yours for a minute before he slowly crossed the room and climbed onto the couch next to you. He wiggled around until he was comfortable on his stomach with his head in your lap and his arms tucked under his chest.
“Rough day?” You asked, resisting the urge to laugh as he let out a deep breath and sank further into you. You could feel his pulse racing and his breath was uneven, like he just ran all the way from home.
You felt your stress from before disappear completely as you stared down at him. Ever since you realized your feelings for him, it was hard to not overthink these kinds of moments.
Before you could stop yourself, you reached a hand down and brushed his messy, slightly damp hair away from his forehead.
His breath hitched and you mentally cursed yourself.
It was no secret that Luke was a touchy person. Ever since you were kids, he had a habit of making people his personal pillow or just absentmindedly grabbing people’s hands and shoulders. But maybe this was a step too far.
Before you could pull away, Luke nuzzled his head back into your hand until you got the hint and softly ran your fingers through his hair. The sinking feeling in your stomach turned into butterflies and you cleared your throat.
“Seriously, you okay?” You whispered.
Luke being this quiet worried you. Normally he would be rambling on about a new song or complaining about school. But now he just seemed deflated.
You gripped his arm with your free hand, muttering a soft ‘hey’ until he finally turned over. His green eyes flickered open and you saw that they were bright red, along with his nose.
“Oh, Lu.” Your heart sank. “What happened?”
Luke shook his head, tucking the side of his face into your hand.
“You feel warm.” You said as felt his forehead with your other hand. “Luke, please tell me what happened?” 
You knew that if he wanted to tell you, he would, and you shouldn't push him. But you had only seen Luke cry a handful of times in your life, and it always broke your heart.
It felt like hours before he finally spoke, his voice rough and heavy. “I ran away.”
“You-?” 
A dozen emotions hit you all at once. The first being disbelief, then anger, then sympathy. Of course, you knew how much his parents not supporting his dream was killing him, and he had mentioned running away before. But you never thought he would actually go through with it.
“What happened?” You asked quietly.
“I failed another test.” Luke said as he sat up, his voice getting a little louder and tears returning to his eyes as he ranted. “I just spaced on studying and she freaked out, threatened to make me quit again or sell my guitar and I just kinda lost it. I tried, (Y/n), I just-”
“Okay, hey, it’s okay.” You ran your hand through his hair again in an attempt to calm him down. You would freak out about how very obvious you were acting later but he clearly had a fever and looked like he was about to start crying again. “You need to get some rest. We’ll figure everything out tomorrow, I promise.”
“Stay here with me?” He asked and your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest but you nodded.
“Yeah, of course.” You went to get up and get a sleeping bag from the loft so he could take the couch but his hand gripped yours. He let go a second later as he leaned back, propping himself up against the armrest and gesturing for you to lay down next to him.
You knew that your face must’ve been bright red but you carefully climbed into the space between his body and the back of the couch. You slung your arm around his torso and rested your head against his chest.
After a few minutes, Luke started snoring quietly. You stared up at him, trying to resist the urge to pinch yourself. It wasn’t the first time you and Luke had cuddled, not by a long shot. There were countless sleepovers when you were kids and even during movie nights as you got older. 
But this was different. 
Any other night, you probably wouldn’t be able to sleep with all the thoughts racing around in your brain about what all of this meant. But between the soft glow of the lights, the sound of the rain hitting the roof and Luke’s steady heartbeat beneath you, you felt yourself drifting off.
-
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yslkook · 4 years
Text
ships in the night
pairing: seokjin x reader summary: jin is your best friend. he’s engaged, and your heart is broken. (pining, best friends, unrequited love, open ending) word count: 3221 warnings: cursing, alcohol, a/n: enjoy this word vomit lolol im still getting comfortable writing for bts!!
***
It shouldn’t be as nice a day as it is- a light, summer breeze, nearly clear skies and the bright sun. It feels like you should be happier than you are. 
If the weather was fitting of your mood, it would be grey and stormy. Instead of wallowing with your broken heart in the comfort of your apartment, you’re in Seokjin’s apartment building. More specifically, you’re at his rooftop, waiting for his arrival.
You ignore the pitying looks from his friends and from your own friends as you make yourself busy for his return. With his presumed fiancee. 
Today was the day he proposed to his girlfriend, and you (as his best friend of nearly ten years) had taken it upon yourself to plan the after party. How masochistic of you. To plan the next chapter of his life with his new fiancee when you’ve been madly in love with him for the better part of your twenties. Now that you’re approaching your thirties, you’ve made it a promise to get over him.
And yet, you separated your empty abyss of emotions from your genuine desire to see him happy. His to-be fiancee was an acquaintance of yours as well. Of course, you weren’t close with her… You could compartmentalize but not that well. You couldn’t fake it any more than you had to. She was a nice girl, you supposed. She made Seokjin happy.
But she wasn’t you. And you’d never be that person to him. It was a fact that you had accepted a long time ago and somehow since then, your heart has been locked in this icy cage that you didn’t want to chip at.
You step away from the table where the alcohol, food and desserts are to look at your work. At the corner sits a flowery backdrop for photos with props. The entire area is decorated with fairy lights and small bouquets of Seokjin’s favorite flowers and his fiancee’s favorite flowers. Her friends had given you some input, but you were running the show and they both knew it. 
It was the last thing you could give to him before having to face the fact that he’d never truly be yours again.
The afterparty itself is a surprise to her and you’re certain she’ll love it- her friends and family are so excited for her, champagne tears dotting their eyes.
And then his friends look at you like they want to hug you and yell at you at the same time. They didn’t like her in the beginning and they only really tolerated her now. Because Jin loves her and because you told them to back the fuck off of her. She hadn’t done anything to warrant their dislike of her.
“Hey pretty,” Jimin greets you with a smile and crescent eyes, “Come here often?”
“Do I come to my soulmate’s proposal party often? No, I can’t say that I do,” You say dryly, elbowing him when his smile drops, “Come on, I’m only joking.”
He wraps an arm around your shoulder and sighs, “If anyone could’ve stopped this madness, it would’ve been you.”
“Madness?” You ask, “Stop it, she’s nice…”
“She’s not,” Jimin says pointedly, “You’re both just so fuckin’ blind. And stupid. So stupid.”
“Don’t start this shit with me, Jimin,” You hiss, “It’s too late, we’re here and that’s that.”
Jimin pulls away and looks at you for a long, long moment. He wonders if you even understand how hurt you are, how heartbroken you are. You hide it behind your jokes as you always have. He won’t be surprised if you leave the party early or if you slip away to the bathroom once Jin and his fiancee arrive.
They’ve been together for three years now. It was only the natural order of things for Jin to propose to her. You had asked him months ago if he was proposing just because he thought it was the right thing to do or because he genuinely wanted to. That discussion had ended in a fight. So you had pulled away, slowly but subtly from him. Already accepting your second place role in his life. Who else would know what he wanted, other than him?
You. You would know. But if every attempt to get him to do some self-reflection was going to end in tears and in a shouting match, you didn’t want to deal with it. Or with him. Or with her.
So you let it be. Like everything else, you let it be. And you let this be the last thing you did for him. You made a promise to yourself. After this, you would move on. 
It takes about an hour for the rooftop to begin filling up with his friends and family, as well as her friends and family. His parents and brother hug you first, before greeting her parents. Jin’s mother looks at you forlornly, as if she can see all of the secrets in your guarded heart. 
You pull away from them quickly, busying yourself with making a drink. You’re going to need it. Jungkook pops up next to you, looping an arm around your shoulders.
“Hey you,” You greet him, offering him a smile and a drink in a red solo cup.
“Hey you,” Jungkook says, doe eyes glittering as he unashamedly looks at you, “You look nice.” He moves his hand to the small of your back.
Long gone is the shy boy who couldn’t look a woman in the eye. Next to you stands a man, filled with confidence and poise. 
“I know,” You wink at him, “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
It’s true, you had at least given yourself the small joy of dressing up in an olive green sleeveless jumpsuit with a dip in the chest and a cinch at the waist. Jewelry glints on your wrists, at the base of your neck and your ears. You’re wearing your favorite pair of heels and the best part is that your feet aren’t even uncomfortable yet.
You catch up with him and the rest of the boys eventually gather around you both too. Just as you’re throwing your head back in laughter, your phone buzzes in your hand. Jin’s name pops up and your heart races in anticipation. As it always does when he texts you, but you feel like your world is about to implode as you open his text message.
seokjin: she said yes!! seokjin: be there in 15 :) 
You exhale shakily, six pairs of eyes on you. Jimin squeezes your shoulder reassuringly.
you: of course she did!!!!  you: fuck!! ur a fiance now. wowwwww. Im so happy for you jin :))) you: see you soon, everything’s ready 
“They’ll be here in fifteen,” You say with a grin that probably looks out of place on your face, “She said yes.” You take a breath, letting the weight of your words sink in. “She said yes. They’re… engaged.”
You swallow the love and hurt down. Jimin brushes his lips to your forehead. It doesn’t matter. Today is not about you.
Pulling away from them, you turn on your heel to celebrate with Jin’s parents. They’re replying their own congratulations to him. His brother tells you that he had texted you first. You already know that. It doesn’t matter. 
You hug his parents anyway.
***
You stick to the shadows with a drink in your hand once Jin and his fiancee arrive. He’s all smiles, opening the door for her dramatically and giggling at her squeal when she sees the rooftop, her friends and her family. 
Finally, once you see that they have a free moment, you approach them.
“Hey, lovebirds,” You smile with a wave and open your arms.
She hugs you first, to your surprise. “Jin told me you did all of this. Thank you.” She flashes her ring to you and excitedly giggles.
She’s always been after your approval, for some godforsaken reason. Who were you anyway?
“O-oh,” You protest, “No, it was a team effort. Congratulations to you both. This is the least we could do.”
You lock eyes with Jin and wonder if he can see it. If he can see how much this is killing you. He can’t because he sweeps you in for a bone-crushing hug.
“I’m engaged,” He breathes, “We’re in love and I’m engaged!”
“You are, Seokjin! You really are,” You say, vision starting to get blurry. But still you smile brightly, even if it looks out of place.
You can’t be here. You can’t be this close to him, you can’t allow him to see your already broken heart.
“Thank you,” Jin says sincerely, “For everything. You’re the best.”
“Anything for you, Jin,” You say, just as sincerely. You punch his upper arm gently. “I’m so happy for both of you. Let’s do a cheers really quick-”
How do you do it? How do you face him when he holds your beating heart in his unknowing hands?
You say a quick toast, a toast to your best friend and his new fiancee. You throw in a few jokes at your own expense before throwing your drink back and pulling away from them with promises of shots later.
But still, you manage to hold it together. It’s when Jin gives his own toast to his new fiancee in front of his family and friends that you feel the carefully woven threads beginning to fray and come apart. Jungkook senses your distress before anyone else does and he pulls you inside to the private bathroom for you to gather your bearings. He cups your cheeks and your eyes well up with unexplained tears, finally, finally, after months of pretending. And you let them fall. Your muffled cries fill up the walls of the bathroom as he rubs your back soothingly.
“It hurts, Kookie,” You mumble, “It hurts so fucking much. I didn’t think anything could hurt like this.”
“I know,” He murmurs, “I know.”
By the time you go back outside, after touching up your makeup as Jungkook watched, Jin is already drunk. He sees you with Jungkook and wonders why you look so sad. But only for a moment, his fiancee capturing his attention once more.
This time, his fiancee gives a toast. It’s a toast to their new life together, with all of their friends and family part of something special. She cries a little and you do, too. And she’s right- it is a rebirth. Because this is the last time. This is the last time you’ll afford Seokjin any of your tears. Even if he is your best friend. 
Because you’re the one that you should love.
***
Eight months later, the air is chillier but you can’t remember the last time you felt this warm. You’re currently curled under your favorite blankets and watching a movie on your television, nearly dozing off after a glass of wine.
True to your word, you had slowly but surely pulled away from Seokjin. You wondered if he had noticed all of your last minute cancellations and the subtle excuses. You still speak occasionally, but it’s not how it was before. And that’s what you wanted. Because your heart is still hurt and healing. The thought of him still makes you ache, but not as much as before. It’s only been six months, and you know that years of feelings won’t go away instantly.
You know he needed you. But he shouldn’t. Not when his fiancee should be his best friend. Not when she should be his person.
You can’t remember the last time you had even seen Seokjin. Was it at his engagement party? When was the last time you had even talked to him?
Your friends avoid his name and avoid speaking about him to you. You’re grateful for that.
So when your phone starts buzzing incessantly at 11:13 PM, with Jin’s name and contact photo on it, you panic for a full ten seconds. Your heart immediately accelerates out of your chest and you wonder if you should answer.
He hasn’t called you in months.
“Hello?” You ask softly, a nervousness you haven’t felt in a long time creeping up on you.
“Hey,” Jin breathes on the other line, “Didn’ think you’d… pick up.”
“I did, didn’t I?” You reply.
Another five seconds of silence.
“Jin. Are you drinking?” You ask. You hear the familiar lilt in his voice, and he sounds sad.
“Yeah,” Jin laughs tonelessly, “Can’t hide anythin’ from you.”
“You never could,” You chuckle, also tonelessly.
“I did, though,” Jin admits, “Hid somethin’ big from you.”
“That’s okay,” You shrug, “You can have your secrets. I’ve got mine.”
Another few seconds of silence. You don’t know what to say to him. Nervousness colors the insides of your veins but you won’t show it. Not to him, not when he’s calling you when he’s drinking.
“Let me come over. I miss you.”
“Seriously?” You scoff, “I don’t think your fiancee would appreciate that very much.”
Jin laughs. It sounds cruel and jarring.
“We’re not together anymore, stupid. Surprised Jimin or Kook haven’t mentioned it to you,” Jin says, unable to keep the sting out of his voice, “But if you didn’t blow me off for the last six months, you’d know that.”
“That’s not fair, Jin,” You murmur, deciding not to give in to his snark, “Come over. I’m at home.”
He hangs up without saying goodbye and you sigh. You send a text to Jungkook and Jimin, asking them why the fuck Jin called you after this long and why they didn’t tell you that they ended their engagement. Of course, there’s no response- only a chorus of coy emojis from both of them. Idiots.
So you wait. You wait for your soulmate to come back to you. You’re still undecided if you want to welcome him with waiting arms.
***
In the end you do. You can’t say no to his pout and his sunken eyes. You can’t say no when you haven’t properly seen him in months, when you haven’t heard his loud laugh in just as long.
“Seokjin,” You breathe and it comes out like a declaration.
Even if he’s been here a million times before, he feels out of place. You usher him to the couch and bring him a glass of water to sip on.
“What are you doing here, Jin?” You sigh, “What’s going on?”
You wonder if he’s here to break your heart for the millionth time.
“Nothin’,” Jin exhales, “I just fuckin’ missed you.”
You swallow. “What the hell happened? Your engagement?” You change the subject quickly. His face shifts to an expression of pensiveness.
“You were right,” Jin finally says.
“Yes, that’s a given. But about what?”
“Me asking her because I felt obligated to. Rather than actually wanting to,” Jin says vaguely.
“That’s a big miss, Jin,” You say bluntly, “I’m sorry, though. That must have been tough.”
“We fought a lot at the end. We only ended it a few weeks ago…”
“What did you fight about?”
Jin raises an eyebrow, “Lots of things. Towards the end though, it was you.”
“Me?” You nearly shout, “What the hell? That’s not funny, Jin-”
“Why would I be joking about that? I was so upset that we weren’t friends anymore-”
“How can you say to me that I’m the reason that you both ended your engagement! Fuck you Jin,” You mutter, “That’s not fair at all. I didn’t do anything for you both to fuckin’ fight about me.”
Tears blur your vision in frustration and you push yourself farther away from him on the couch. He can’t do this to you, not when you’ve worked so carefully to build yourself up again.
“Will you let me finish?” Jin asks in exasperation, “We were already fighting about anything and everything. And then I was so fucking upset that we were hardly friends and she got sick of me talking about it. Then she said something- well, she said some things…”
“Cut the shit, Jin. What are you here to say?” You ask, anxiety crawling up your arms and curling in your belly.
“She said all my friends thought we were a bad fit-”
“That’s not news to you, Jin-”
“Then she said you’re in love with me. Isn’t that something,” Jin muses and your entire world halts on its axis to a screeching stop, “Said somethin’ about the way you-”
“Stop,” You whisper, “Stop it, Jin. Don’t do this to me, please.”
Your heart is breaking all over again and you are powerless to stop it. You’ve envisioned telling Jin someday about the extent and depth of your feelings for him, but this was the last way you expected it to go.
“Tell me,” He demands, eyes sharp. 
You’ve never lied to him. Not when he’s asked you things directly.
“Tell you what, Jin?” You say sharply, “Tell you how I’ve loved you since we were stupid and in college? How I loved you even through your string of girlfriends that were so shitty to you? How I loved you when it was wrong for me? Fuck, Jin. Yes, I’m so in love with you and it took your fiancee for you to see that-”
“How did you manage it?” Jin asks softly and you’re taken off guard.
“Manage what?”
“All those years. Even the last year- you planned our engagement party. You toasted us, every time the guys said they didn’t like her, you always defended her-”
“She fucking made you happy! That’s what friends do,” You mumble.
“You planned our engagement party, you helped me plan the actual proposal,” Jin says, as if he’s coming to a realization, “And your heart was breaking the whole time. I broke your fuckin’ heart, didn’t I?”
And then your bottom lip trembles, your eyes shine with unshed tears and the dam breaks. He looks lost for a second, wondering if he’s crossing a line. But he’s still Jin, and you’re still you. So he pulls you into his arms without a second thought and crushes you close to him. You want to be selfish with him, you want to take everything he can give you. At least for five minutes, you want to stop thinking of him first before your own needs.
So you allow it. You allow the gentle brush of his lips against your forehead, the way he presses your head into his neck and rubs your shoulders, then your back. You cry for him, you cry for lost time, and you cry for yourself.
“You gonna declare your unrealized love for me now?” You say through puffy eyes with a watery laugh.
“You deserve better than me declaring my love for you not even a month after ending a three year long relationship and a seven month long engagement,” Jin says, squeezing your hand.
“Yeah, you’re damn fuckin’ right I do,” You murmur.
“I missed you,” Jin confesses, “I really missed you.”
“As you should have,” You say, earning a pinch to your shoulder.
Whatever the future holds for the both of you- you feel as if a weight has been lifted off of your chest. Everything isn’t magically okay, but you feel the same warmth you felt years ago when you first realized your feelings for him. 
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troubatrain · 4 years
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together by this christmas tree - p.l. dubois
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a/n: happy december, so because The Maine’s Ho Ho Hopefully is a god tier Christmas song and I forgot how to write anything else heres like 5 words of just fluff. big shoutout to @prettyboybarzal​ for letting me just dump this fic on her for a few days so i could fuck around with the plot you are a queen!!
Pierre was in Los Angeles.
At any other time, he’d be pretty happy. The long West Coast road trip was one of Pierre’s favorites, he got to spend some time with his teammate’s, enjoy the warm weather, and play a few games that would hopefully end in a win. This time, however, he was sulking in his hotel room because he wished he was in Columbus. It was the first day of December, and Pierre knew that meant one thing - You were undoubtedly getting ready for the holiday season in whatever ways you knew how.
You stumbled into Pierre’s life by accident - literally. When Phillip was just a puppy, Pierre had taken him on a run. The French Bulldog pulled him with all his strength, causing you, who’d been looking at your phone to trip right over his leash. You assured Pierre it was fine, but while you were explaining to him that you had dogs growing up and sometimes shit happens your elbow had been bleeding before you could finish your sentence. Pierre offered to help you out, given his own apartment was barely a block away, and you’d been friends ever since. Friends. Just friends.
“Just tell her,” Tex says from the bed next to him, his road roommate having enough of watching Pierre sulk around their hotel room, “I’m tired of this.”
“Tired of what?” Pierre asks, his eyebrows raising. 
“This, the thinking about Y/N all the time,” Tex exasperates dramatically, he sighs, putting on his best impersonation of his teammate, “Y/N’s watching the dogs while I’m away. Y/N and I are trying that new French restaurant downtown. Y/N’s favorite holiday is Christmas and I’m not decorating with her. Dude, you’re in love with her, just tell her. I’m sure she feels the same way.”
“What if she doesn’t?” Pierre asks, finally admitting the real reason he’s yet to say anything. Pierre had been rejected a few times in his life, but he never let it get to him. That was because those people didn’t matter the way you did. You knew everything about him. You knew the way he took his coffee and the way he hated being woken up. You knew Pierre better than you knew yourself, and losing that was the first thing that’s ever really scared him.
“Well you won’t know if you don’t do something about it,” Tex sighs, frustrated with his two friends, “Or you’ve got to let her go.”
Tex walked out of their hotel room after he spoke, undoubtedly to get away from Pierre’s energy that was clouding the room. Pierre sighs, rolling over to the otherside of his bed and pulling up your contact. He did the math internally in his head for a moment, trying to figure out if you’d be asleep or not - smiling to himself when he realized you were probably still up. 
“Shouldn’t you be at some fancy LA restaurant?” You chirp, smiling on the other side of the phone when you pick up the Facetime call.  You were home, but Pierre could see two familiar figures snuggled together on her couch. You had become Pierre’s accidental dog sitter at the beginning of the season. He put finding one on the backburner, and when it came close to the start of the season, he was coming up empty. You offered three different times before Pierre finally came to his senses and said yes, not because he didn’t trust you, it was because if he had to watch his dogs love you as much as he does - he was never going to recover.
“Shouldn’t you be decorating for Christmas?” Pierre smirks, knowing exactly what the first day of December meant to his friend.
You loved Christmas, like in the type of way that made Pierre envious that anyone could be that happy from a holiday, and the first day of December was the day you went all out. A tree got put up in your apartment, a fake one because hauling a real one up to her place seemed like it would be too much, decorated elaborately in gold and white. You’d get dressed up in a set of Christmas pajamas, one’s that Pierre would scrunch his nose at but he secretly adored, and when he’d make fun of you for it - you’d just pout and call him a grinch.
“I thought I’d wait for you this year,” You mumble, hoping the lighting in your living room would hide the blush on your cheeks, “Speaking of Christmas…”
“I told you three times I don’t want anything,” Pierre reminds you, the argument sprung up twice a year, on Pierre’s birthday and the second the holiday season started. Pierre really had all he could want, his family and his friends were healthy, the team was doing well, and he could buy any material thing he wanted. His answer wasn’t a total lie, because he couldn’t think of anything he wanted besides you.
“You’re the worst,” You whine, throwing yourself back on the couch dramatically, Pierre watched Georgia spring up from next to you, the puppy dropping sloppy kisses all over your face. He thought about what Tex had rambled on about just before he called, that he had to just tell you, but you deserved it to be perfect. So he made a decision, he would tell you by Christmas and he’d spend every moment before that proving to you that he could be the man you deserved.
***
Pierre sighed, stepping back and looking at all of the pine needles that were scattered through his freshly washed BMW. He was going to have to get it cleaned, but the smile on your face would be worth it once he lugged that tree through your apartment building. It was part of his plan, one Tex had called stupid just three hours prior, but Pierre knew it wasn’t. You loved Christmas, and as much as you tried to never show it, you did always get a little bummed out that the tree in your apartment wasn’t real - something that not even the prettiest decorations could fix. So, Pierre decided he was going to fix it, and he was going to give you the best holiday you could ask for.
Pierre buzzed up to your apartment, the tree in his hands while he made his way up to your floor, holding up on his end of the promise he made to stop being a Grinch and help you decorate, “Special delivery.”
The snowman mug, undoubtedly filled with coffee and a tiny bit of sugar because that’s how you always drank it, slipping right out of your hands and onto the floor. The handle snapped off, but that seemed to take second place to the scene in front of you, “Is that-”
“A real tree? Uh yeah,” Pierre nods slowly, trying to not let the grin growing on his face show, “I know you say it’s not a big deal for your tree to be fake but-”
In all of the time you’d known Pierre, you were always his softer side. To the rest of the world, you almost seemed too sweet for the tattooed hockey player who wasn’t afraid to back down from a fight, but it wasn’t entirely true. Pierre had a softer side, one you’d seen shine through when he saw his mom or when a kid could stop him for an autograph, but they were never just random acts of kindness. You wrap your arms around his waist, taking a big sniff of the fresh pine scent that was sweeping through your apartment, “This might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
“This is the nicest thing I’ve ever done for someone,” Pierre jokes, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “Where are we putting this thing?”
Once you had the tree in the stand, it was time to get to work. The real reason you waited for Pierre wasn’t because his lack of holiday cheer was a crime, even though it was, it was because then you could hang up decorations using a ladder. Pierre was keeping the smile on his face, not because he was happy that he had a Santa hat hanging from his head or that he was untangling string lights for you while he wrapped them around the tree, but because you would show him every ornament you had with some sort of story as to why you bought it.
“Do you have a favorite ornament?” You ask, snapping a picture of Pierre’s confused face while he untangled the lights. He looked silly, the hat that you placed on his head was hanging off, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth while he tried to untangle the lights. He looked up at you, and you could see him thinking for a moment before he answered you.
“I do actually, I had this little Canadians skate that I used to steal off the tree to play with as a kid,” Pierre finally settled on, smiling to himself when he could practically see himself at seven trying to steal that ornament off the tree. His mother would scold him, and tell him there’s a million other things to play with but it just wasn’t that stupid plastic skate, “My mom used to get so mad at me for taking it but, I loved it.”
“So you didn’t always hate Christmas?” You tease, a giggle escaping through your lips.
“I don’t hate Christmas, I’m just not obsessed with it,” Pierre defends, “But maybe I liked it more when I was a kid.”
“Well be more like seven year old Luc, and get decorating,” You joke, tossing an ornament at him.
Three hours and two broken decorations later, the tree was propped up in the corner of your living room. It looked perfect, because there was nothing that could stop you from decorating that tree flawlessly, but Pierre was sincerely proud of himself for how much he’d actually helped. You were happy, standing in front of it with the gold star that went on top in your hand, “Well put it on.”
“Shouldn’t you do that?” Pierre asks before you shake your head no and try to hand him the topper. Pierre stays planted in his spot, knowing if he looked at you for just another minute you’d explain yourself.
“I’m too short to get up there and I don’t feel like getting out a ladder-” Pierre scoffed before you could finish your sentence, ducking down and hooking your legs over his shoulders without a second thought. You squeal, latching your hands on any part of him you could to stop yourself from losing your balance, “You could’ve just done it.”
“Hang up the star before I drop you,” Pierre teases, loosening his grip on your thighs like he was going to let you fall. Your laugh filled your apartment, and Pierre knew that had to be his favorite sound in the world. You place the star on top of the tree, Pierre stepping back so you could admire your work.
“Perfect?” You ask, your eyes scanning over the twinkling lights that seemed to just hang from the tree flawlessly. Pierre didn’t look at the tree before he answered, his eyes still trained on you.
“Yeah it’s perfect.”
***
The first snow in Columbus could not have come at a better time. Pierre had an afternoon game, and by the time he’d been out of the arena on his way back to his place, the snow was starting to just cover the ground. You had been at his place all afternoon, baking away pieces for a gingerbread house because you told Pierre buying one was unacceptable. You practically destroyed his kitchen, the counters covered in flour and pieces of gingerbread dough. You had Christmas music blasting over the speaker, lost in your own little world until you heard the door open.
“What happened in here?” Pierre asks, his suit jacket slipping off of his shoulders while he took in the sight in front of him. His kitchen was a mess, the dishes piled high in the sink while the entire place was flooded with the smell of gingerbread, “Did you rob a bakery?”
Pierre picked up the candy that was neatly placed in different cups on the counter. He looked at you with an amused smile on his face, “I didn’t come here to fuck around, and neither did you.”
With your words came a bright green apron for Pierre, he unrolled the fabric taking a deep breath and reminding himself that if he wanted you to know he cared about you, he was going to have to suck it up and build the damn house.
As it turns out, building the damn house was harder than Pierre thought. The cookie kept crumbling, the house kept sliding apart and Pierre couldn’t construct a roof to save his life. You, on the other hand, were working tireless at the most well constructed gingerbread house he’d ever seen. You were lost in your own little world, mouthing along to the Christmas music playing in the background. It would have been cute, and at any other time Pierre probably thought you were downright adorable, but not while another cookie broke in his hands.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Pierre growls, a pout on his face while he swiped the cookie crumbs from his hands.
You laugh at his disgruntled state, his back was hunched and his face was red. It was what he looked like after a bad game, except your friend who prided himself on acting like a tough guy was absolutely defeated by a simple gingerbread house. You drop the pastry bag that was in your hands, “You need to relax.”
“I am relaxed!” Pierre yells, stepping back in frustration, “It’s the house it won’t-”
“Luc, listen to yourself for a minute, it’s not the house’s fault,” You explain gently, you walk behind him and place both of your hands on each of his arms, “Try again and calm down.”
Pierre didn’t want to finish the house, but if your hands were on him he wasn’t going to tell you to take them off anytime soon. Your hands were wrapped around his arms lightly, your chin resting on his back while you peeked around his arm.  He grabbed the bag and you rolled your eyes at how tense he was, “Do you hold hockey sticks that tightly, jeez.”
Pierre turns around, giving you a glare and raising his eyebrows. You stifle a laugh, trying your best to keep it together despite how hilarious you found his mood to be, “Quit making fun of me and help me.”
“Okay, okay,” You nod, running your arm along Pierre’s arm while you watched him try and squeeze the frosting out of the bag, “Slower Luc.”
Don’t get a boner. Don’t get a boner. Don’t get a boner.
Pierre’s mind was racing, trying to drive his focus in the direction of the house, and not the fact that you were standing behind him. The air in the kitchen was thick, the same weird sexual tension that seemed to creep up when the two of you were alone for too long was back and stronger than ever. Your fingers ran along Pierre’s tattoos absentmindedly while you whispered simple directions that were turning Pierre’s brain to mush. He couldn’t think of anything else beside the fact that all he wanted was turn around and press his lips to yours, but he couldn’t just do that.
Your heart was beating out of your chest, while your logical side told you that you were simply telling Pierre how to build the silly little house and this shouldn’t feel so sexual - but it did. Pierre touched you all the time, a hand on your back while you guys were out, a kiss on the forehead whenever he hugged you and you never thought anything of it until you realized he didn’t do that with everyone. So you panicked, ignoring the little voice in the back of your head that reminded you that you wanted him, and pretending like it never happened. That wasn’t easy, and every minute you spent with Pierre you could feel yourself falling into him like it was the easiest thing in the world. 
The moment was ruined by the sound of a cookie sheet hitting the floor, and the sound of a scared puppy’s feet running away in fear. You both jumped, your hands flying off of Pierre when the realization that you were doing it again washed over you. You were letting yourself pretend like this could lead somewhere and that one day Pierre would choose you and it would all work itself out. Except that was just hope and hope wasn’t going to stop your heart from getting broken.
“You should shower, I’ll start cleaning,” You offer, moving around the kitchen to clean so you could hide the blush on your cheeks.
And a cold shower was probably what Pierre needed.
***
This wasn’t part of my Christmas activities.
You were whining while Pierre drove down to the arena, the Blue Jackets family skate was that afternoon and he insisted you went. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go, but you couldn’t  stop yourself from reading into things. He’d never brought you to the skate before, so why now?
“Isn’t this on that silly list of Christmas activities?” Pierre reminds you, tapping your leg lightly with his free hand, “Or do you just not know how to skate or something?”
“Well…” You start, Pierre’s eyebrows raising while he focused on the road ahead of you, “I don’t-”
“You eat Christmas cheer for the entire month of December but you don’t know how to ice skate? When were you going to tell me?” Pierre teases, chuckling while he shook his head at you.
“It never came up!” You defend, crossing your arms at him for teasing you, “And I didn’t tell you for this exact reason.”
Pierre made fun of you for the rest of the ride, teasing you that you should skate with his teammate’s kids who were practically toddlers and were probably better than you were. You walked into the arena behind Pierre, immediately smiling at the familiar faces of his teammates and their families. You made your way to his stall, Pierre telling you to sit he could get your skates laced up. You bit your lip, watching his hands work at the laces as delicately as he could. You were sure he was rougher with his own, but Pierre’s touch was always light as a feather with you.
“Too tight?” Pierre asks, breaking out of your trance from his too big veiny hands.
“No it’s fine,” You squeak out, and you could hear Tex snickering to himself next to you.
Pierre wasn’t a bad teacher for someone who almost tossed a gingerbread house across his apartment just a week prior. He was slow, his fingers laced with yours while he pulled you along and tried to help you skate on your own. It was a failure, and you looked like a baby deer trying to walk for the first time, but Pierre refused to believe you couldn’t get better. 
“You guys disgust me,” Tex chirps, hopping onto the bench next to you while you watch Pierre play tag with Savvy’s kids. You raise your eyebrows, waiting for an explanation, “You’re both so disgustingly in love with each other why won’t you just admit it?”
“Because Pierre’s going to find someone else who won’t be me,” You sigh, picking at your nails. You told Tex this once before, when you were wine drunk and sad about the date Pierre was on, “He’s just my friend.”
Tex wanted to scream, lock you both into a room and force you to talk about your feelings. He wasn’t going to do that, because he didn’t want to be the demise of what he thought might actually be something, but god did he want to. You both were frustrating the hell out of him, and if Pierre didn’t nut up soon he was going to take matters into his own hands by New Years.
“You don’t know that, if you told him-” Tex tries his hardest to reason with you, make you see that it’s worth the jump because Pierre was on the other side waiting for you.
“So he can flat out reject me and never speak to me again? Really I’m good,” You huff out, swinging your leg over the boards to get back onto the ice. You were doing okay, until you started to push yourself forward. Two steps later, you were on your way to face plant into the ice until you felt two arms wrap around your waist.
“Easy there,” Pierre laughs, stopping you just before you fell, “You’re not an expert now.”
“You’re such a bully,” You tease, avoiding Tex’s gaze when Pierre intertwined your fingers to pull you across the ice. Tex watched you both, the shared laughs and longing stares were just proof to him that if people did have one person for them, you were it for each other.
Only if you could get it through your heads. 
***
The Savard’s threw a bigger Christmas party than you’d ever seen before in your life. You loved David and his wife, given Pierre introduced you to them as his adoptive parents the first time you ever came over for dinner with him. It was your favorite version of Pierre, the one who let David’s kids paint his nails and color the black and white ink on his arms. You walked up the well decorated driveway, your heels clicking against the pavement while you made your way inside.
“You need to go see your boy in the kitchen,” You hear Seth call over to you, grabbing your attention as soon as you walk into the house. You wave hello first, making your way into the kitchen to see a sight that you were most definitely not expecting.
Pierre was sitting on a candy cane throne, a big Santa hat on his head and equally as red suit to match. He had one of Nick’s kids on his lap, listening to the little boy about the train set he’d been writing to Santa about since Thanksgiving. Your heart grew about four sizes at the sight, you walked over and tapped Pierre on the shoulder, “Can I borrow Santa for a minute?”
“Are you Mrs. Claus?” The question was a simple one, and the two big brown eyes that were looking up at you were the only thing that didn’t stop you from saying yes.
“Mrs. Claus huh?” Pierre teases, pulling you onto his lap while you watched Nick’s son make his way back to his mother.
“I wasn’t about to ruin his Christmas,” You shook your head, running a hand over the white fur on the jacket Pierre was wearing, “How’d you get sucked into this?”
“I was going to say no, but then I knew you’d at least laugh at me,” Pierre admits, a blush creeping up his neck. His hands were wrapped securely around your waist like for a moment he could just pretend like he had you, “Wanna tell the big guy what you want for you Christmas.”
“Hmm, nothing,” You settle on, “And you won’t know until you finally tell me what you want.”
The sound of cheers flooded the kitchen, and when you went to look at what all of the ruckus was about you realized that you were the ruckus. Seth had a shit eating grin on his face while he held the mistletoe above your heads. You knew you were flush, the heat on your cheeks made it clear while Pierre looked like he was a pale as a ghost. He planted a kiss on your cheek, telling Seth to fuck off before you pushed yourself off of him, muttering an excuse about needed to use the bathroom. 
You had your palms against the sink while you tried to catch your own breath. This was the reason you never made a move, because you knew it wouldn’t end in some sort of heartbreak. It was clear Pierre didn’t want to kiss you, and that was enough for you to let him go forever. You wiped the tears that were welling up in your eyes, deciding that when you walked out that door Pierre was your friend and your friend only.
“Where are you going?” Pierre caught your arm when you tried to leave the party, the idea of going home for a good cry was far better than a rowdy holiday party. He looked insane, his eyes wild while he panted to catch his breath after he searched the house in a panic for you.
“Home, I’m just not feeling well-” You come up with an excuse fast, hoping the quicker you spoke the quicker you could get out of there.
“Is this about Seth? I’ll kick the shit out of him,” Pierre promises, latching onto anything that would fix your mood.
Your feelings were something Pierre was an expert at, probably because he never seemed to take his eyes off of you. He knew when you were upset just from your body language alone and you were definitely not happy. Was it from Seth trying to force the idea that you should be together or was it that he didn’t kiss you? It had to be the first, because if it was the latter then Pierre fucked up his entire plan to make you see that he loved you.
“No it’s fine, really I just think I should go,” You were begging Pierre not to fight you on this, so he wasn’t going but he was going to be damned if he let you slip through his fingers.
“Stay, Tex and I were about to sing Christmas karaoke,” Pierre offers, dragging out his words, “I’ll let you pick the song.”
Pierre and Tex ended up serenading you with the worst rendition of All I Want For Christmas Is You you’d ever heard. Their dance moves were a crime, and they were definitely the two most tone deaf people you have ever met, but their heart was in the right place. The mistletoe incident was forgotten for the moment, your attention directed at the silly drinking games you were playing with your friends. You sat on the kitchen counter in the Savard’s home, your head leaning on Pierre’s shoulder after you’d taken your fourth shot in the span of an hour. A hangover was definitely on the horizon, but for the time it wasn’t going to kill your buzz.
“I hate when you do that you know?” You poke Pierre’s side, grabbing his attention from the crowd of people in the kitchen.
“Do what?” Pierre asks, a bold hand landing on your thigh.
“Make everything better somehow, it’s pretty fucking annoying Luc,” You tease, taking a look at his face for a moment. Pierre smiled before he answered you, the kind where his teeth would show and you could see his little vampire teeth you loved so much.
“I’ll always make it better Y/N.”
***
You’re coming over right?
Pierre sighs at your question, your voice flooding the speaker in his car while he drove home from his game. It was December 23rd, and he wanted to sneak in a nap before his middle of the night flight to Montreal to see his parents for Christmas. He’d just finished an afternoon game, one where the team lost and Torts lost his mind on them before he shipped them off to Christmas break tired and angry, but he wasn’t going to miss out on seeing you before Christmas. He made a promise to himself he’d tell, come clean once he felt like you knew he loved you. Maybe you did, and if you didn’t you were in for one hell of a surprise.
Pierre took a quick right in the direction of your place, deciding you couldn’t wait any longer. His brain was switched to autopilot and when he opened your apartment door with the key you gave him forever ago, he realized what this was. You were sitting on the couch, a gift box in your hand that was undoubtedly for him and it hit Pierre like a freight train.
He didn’t get you anything.
Pierre could’ve punched himself, calling out every name in the book because he was an idiot. He spent so much time focusing on spending time with you, and going along with all of your silly little Christmas things that he didn’t even realize he forgot to get you a gift at all. Pierre just knew whatever was in that bag was thoughtful and perfect, and he was walking in empty handed.
“Open it!” You exclaim, your excitement couldn’t be contained. Honestly, you were surprised you made it this far without spilling the beans about the gift. 
You hand Pierre the box, and he opens it slowly, pulling the top of the box off and gasping at what was inside. The skate ornament was the same as the one he mentioned when you were decorating your tree, the blue and red Canadians logo faded a bit, “Is this…?”
“I called your mom and asked her for it,”  You admit sheepishly, a little embarrassed to admit just how often you did talk to Pierre’s parents. He didn’t call often, mostly because he simply would forget, so his mother would start just calling you instead, “I know it’s silly but I thought maybe it’d remind you that the holidays aren’t all bad-”
“I love it, it’s perfect,” Pierre whispers, letting the ornament dangle from his large hand, “I fucked up, I uh, shit, I forgot to get you something.”
You laugh, practically falling to the floor while the giggles take over your body, “Luc, you sucked it up all month for me that’s enough.”
“It’s not, I did all of this so you’d know that I loved you and when I told you it would make sense,” Pierre starts to ramble, pacing around your apartment, “And I couldn’t even be bothered to remember to get you a damn gift.”
“You love me?” You repeat, just to make sure you’d gotten clear what’s been up with him since the start of the month. You felt the shift, the extra acts of kindness that just weren’t normal for him, but you knew if you read into it you might end up disappointed.
“I’m hopelessly in love with you, like one of those romantic Christmas movies you love so much,” Pierre admits, looking at you with the softest eyes you’d ever seen. You stood in front of him, dumbfounded that your best friend just told you he loved you, “Please say something.”
“Do you know what I want for Christmas?” You ask, taking a bold step forward and wrapping your arms around Pierre’s neck, “This year I want you alone.”
Pierre closed the gap between the two of you, and it felt like the entire world had stopped. The bustling city outside didn’t matter, Pierre’s flight in a few hours didn’t matter, and the brutal loss he’d taken hours later was on the backburner. Right now, Pierre’s hands were wrapped around your waist while your lips were pressed against his and he would have rather died than let go of you in that moment.
“So I don’t have to get you a gift right?”
“No you still do, but you can kiss me again first.”
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baby-bearie · 4 years
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take me home
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(not my gif)
jj maybank x reader, rafe cameron x reader
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a/n: well well well i’m trying a short series for the first time! it’s a fake dating trope, because i just read the to all the boys i’ve loved before series and now i’m a sucker for fake dating. i don’t think there’ll be too many parts, i’ll fit plenty into each chapter. i really hope you like these. 
Rafe Cameron loves to get on your nerves. He’ll watch you squirm as he hits on you everytime you swing by the Cameron residence, and he has admitted to your face that he enjoys it. You don’t see the appeal. You do, however, see the appeal in smacking his creepy sneer off his face. 
But you’re almost 100% sure that would turn him on. 
It doesn’t help that you’ve known Rafe since before you were potty trained, and it sure as hell isn’t helping that the boy who shamelessly attempts to touch you whenever you’re near him is nothing like the boy who used to pick flowers for you and sit with you while you braided them into flower crowns. It doesn’t help that you loved him first. Long before he changed, morphed into a boy you would give anything to be far, far away from. You can’t be near him, it makes your heart break all over again.
All over again, you experience the pain of when he stopped smiling at you in the hallways in the beginning of freshman year. All of the pain of that midnight call from Sarah, telling you she found Rafe unconscious on the bathroom floor with the coke still on his nose, and she didn’t know what to do. All of that pain, every time you have to see a boy you thought you once knew. 
Rafe always had it the worst. Out of all the kooks in your little group: you, Rafe, Kie, Sarah and occasionally Topper, Rafe had always had it the worst. 
Finances were never one of your problems, but when you live on Figure 8, you find there’s a lot more to be worried about than cocktail parties and marble foyers. The dream image that families like the Cameron’s or the Thornton’s have up of the perfect, kook family is just that.
A dream. Part of the Cameron’s intimidation and rule over this side of the island comes from the twisted stories ladies in stilettos will whisper about at parties. 
Girls like you and Sarah, boys like Topper, they do alright. They hold up under scrutinization, under haughty, judging stares. People like Rafe crack. 
People that were like Rafe crack. They break, and the shards of who they used to be reassemble into something new. People that were like Rafe turn into who he is now. 
Rafe Cameron loves watching you squirm. That’s what he’s doing today, whistling at you as you lift a hand to block out the sun, hiking across the lawn to where Sarah is lounging. 
“Looking good, Y/l/n!” He cups his hands around his mouth. You flip him off in response, almost as if it’s second nature. He salutes you back. 
“Sarah!” You call out, trying not to trip over floppy $70 sandals as you stand over her chaise, casting a shadow over her. 
“Bitch, move, you’re blocking the sun.” She swatted a hand at you.��
“I have a proposition.” You settled your hands on your hips, sticking your elbows out. Sarah groaned, lifting her sunglasses up into her hair and propping herself up on her elbows. 
“Nothing good has ever happened any time you started with that line.” “It gets you to listen, doesn’t it?” You sat near her legs. She sighed. 
“Okay, shoot.” “Yes, okay, so there’s this party tonight, and I really, really need someone to go with me.” You began hesitantly. 
“That’s all? Yeah, I’m free tonight- “That’s not all.” You winced. “It’s not exactly, like, a kook party?” 
Sarah frowned. “What does that mean?” “I guess you could say it’s kind of the opposite of a kook party.” 
Her eyes widened. “It’s a pogue party? You want us to go to a pogue party?” “Not all of us! Just me and you! The boys will never find out.” “Why do you want to go so bad, anyways?” 
“I was,” you paused, searching for the right word, “invited.” “Invited?” “I promised someone I’d be there. And I also promised you’d be with me.” You boop her nose. 
Sarah sat up fully, swinging her legs over the chaise so she was sitting next to you. 
“I’ll go with you,” she flicks you when you cheer, “but I have a few conditions.” 
You nod dutifully. “Yes. Anything. I accept.” “Okay, first, Rafe and Topper, and subsequently Kelce, will never hear about this. Topper will die of shame, and I think Rafe will disown me.” “I don’t think you can disown your sibling.” “Well, then, he’ll be super disappointed. In both of us. He likes you more than he likes me.” “I’d be glad to get your brother to like me a little bit less. Maybe I could walk in your house without being catcalled. Sorry. No offense.” 
“None taken. I don’t like him either.” Sarah shoves your shoulder with hers. “Do you promise?” She sticks out a thumb towards you.
It’s a tradition you’ve kept since you were in the 6th grade, when Rafe decided the pinky promises you made were too childish for middle school and rallied the boys into teasing anyone who made them. Thumby promises were your escape. 
You hold up your thumb but hesitate to link it with hers, pulling it back at the last second. “Here’s the thing, I won’t tell anyone anything, but I can’t promise someone at the party won’t tell them. Also, what if they just show up? They go to these all the time.”  
Sarah shrugs. “Well, if they show up, then they can’t really be mad at us for being there. Okay, just promise you won’t tell them.” She shakes her thumb at you again, and this time you hook yours into it. 
“Promise. What are your other conditions?” “Right, the second is I get to borrow your pink bikini next time we go to the beach.” “Done.” “And lastly, you have to tell me who you promised.”
“What?” You blink at her. “You said you promised someone that we would be there. Who? Was it that one boy? The Maybank boy? Oh, what did we call him?” She scrunches her eyes shut to remember before she snaps. “Goldilocks!” 
Your cheeks flush red at her insinuation. Sarah might be the only person who knows about your 9th grade five-month-long obsession with JJ Maybank, sparked by your first kiss in a custodial closet. You wouldn’t go so far as to say you had loved him, but it was an intense crush. Sarah had dubbed him Goldilocks after his phase of weirdly long hair. It ended abruptly, you just forgot all about him. You don’t remember what made you forget. 
“No, no, of course not. Ew, Sarah.” You shook your head. “It was Kiara.” 
Sarah’s eyes furrowed. “Kiara? Why would she want us around?” 
“I guess she wants to make amends?” “Okay, maybe with you, but I can guarantee Kiara wasn’t asking you to bring me.” “Maybe so. But someone there was asking for you.” “No, Y/n, no, I’m still with Topper.” “Oh, come on! It’s so obvious you both have a thing for each other. He was asking if you’d come, what was I supposed to say?” “No!”
“Okay, well, you already promised that you’d come, and I met all of your conditions so you don’t really have a choice.” You tipped your head at Sarah. 
“Fuck you.” She muttered. “Alright, fine. I’ll pick you up at 10.” 
“Yes! Okay, bye, I’ll see you tonight!” You grabbed her before she could swat you away and kissed her cheek goodbye. You patted her cheek and rushed off. 
“What, no bye-bye kiss for me?” Rafe called to you. “Fuck off, Rafe.” 
When Sarah came, 30 minutes later than she was supposed to, you were waiting on the steps of your house. 
“Finally!” You yanked the car door open and crashed in the passenger seat. 
“Sorry!” She pulled out of the driveway. “Rafe was interrogating me while I was trying to leave.” 
“Just floor it, Kiara won’t stop texting me.” “Nothing interesting ever happens at a party before 11, anyways.” 
Sarah was wrong. 
The second you pull up to the kegger, the crowd surrounding Rafe is already very obvious. Sarah grabs your hand, hustling you to the front of the crowd. He’s tossing around in the sand, trying to pin down JJ Maybank. 
“How did he get here before us?” “Because you were half an hour late!” You can’t help but point out the obvious. 
“Just help me, okay?” Sarah times herself against their wrestling, charging forward to grab Rafe’s arm when he draws it back to deliver a blow to JJ. 
“Rafe, stop! Stop!” She shouts, and always right behind her, you put your palms on his chest and push him back. You look back at Kiara who is tugging away JJ, but he stumbles, startled. His jaw is clenched and as she pulls him, he glances at you.
In that one glance is a split second of recognition, shock and confusion, before the moment passes and he’s forgotten you again. Closely followed by a medley of angry shouts and shoving from his friends. “Fucking kooks.” He mutters. 
You turn back to Rafe, who is ready to explode on Sarah. “What the hell are you doing here?” “What the hell are you doing here, Rafe? At least we were invited!” 
You’ve heard this conversation at least a hundred times, and you know how it ends. Bored of it already, you wipe your red cheeks and leave them to argue. 
This night has gone to shit and you haven’t even talked to Kiara yet. You’ve collapsed on a log to watch the waves crash and pull back when he sits next to you.
“Y/n Y/l/n. Well, damn. It’s been a while.” “A while? Try 2 years.” 
JJ scoffs. “Yeah, and who’s fault is that?” 
That shuts you up.
You’ve questioned yourself for two years about JJ. It was a short-lived story, but one full of young love, peeking glances and shy conversations. It was sweet and careless, and you believe something in your brain is blocking out the reasons it ended. 
The reasons you ignored him in the hallway the same way Rafe ignored you. 
The one thing you can’t block out is the lingering feeling. The warm, fuzzy butterflies of those small smiles and stuttered sentences. You feel them again when anyone brings him up. You felt them when Sarah guessed that he invited you here. 
Maybe you wished he did. 
You feel them now as you look at him up close for the first time in forever. And they’re stronger. 
The butterflies are stronger than they used to be. 
And that is how you stop questioning yourself, that is how you know that some part of your heart will always belong to JJ Maybank. 
You press your lips together and stare at him for a second longer. 
“Stop looking at me like that.” He ends your moment of bliss earlier than you had hoped. 
“Like what?” “Like you don’t recognize me. Like you don’t know me.” 
You sniff. “JJ, I don’t think I do.” 
JJ kicks the sand under his feet.
“That’s bullshit. You know me.” “I knew you. I knew 14 year old you.” You correct him. 
“Have I really changed that much?” He laughs.
 “You have, you know?” He keeps going when you say nothing. “I had such a big fucking thing for you, god.”
“Yeah, it was mutual.” “I know!” He exclaims, excited, then tries again, softer. “I know.” 
“And then, you just ditched me.” He says abruptly. 
“That’s not what- “That’s exactly what happened!” He interrupts, turning to look at you with wide eyes. 
“You just cut me out of your life. What, did you outgrow a pogue? Only rich boys are good enough for the kook princess?” His tone gets more and more aggressive. 
“I’m telling you, that is not how it happened.” You insist. 
“Okay, you know what, okay,” JJ turns towards you, scratching his head. “So, if that’s not what happened, then what was it? Because it hurt, Y/n. It hurt so fucking bad.” 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” “I don’t need an apology, I want to know what I did. Why did you stop wanting to be around me?”
The questions brings your racing mind to a full stop. You had been praying he wouldn’t ask. 
You don’t have an answer for him. 
“I don’t- I genuinely don’t know, JJ. It just stopped, okay?” “That’s more BS. Things just don’t end. I get it now. I get what happened. I get your reasons.” He begins nodding. 
JJ looks up then, and his face tightens, jaw clenching the same way it did after the fight. 
“And one of those reasons is walking this way.” 
You turn to see what he’s looking at, and Rafe Cameron is stumbling towards you two. You turn to ask JJ what that means, when Rafe grabs your shoulder and nearly flings you back around to look at him. You can smell the beer on his breath. 
“Y/n, what are you doing with this guy? I’ve been looking for you all night!” He grabs your wrist. “C’mon, we’re going.” He slurs, trying to drag you away. 
“Rafe, stop!” You pull back your wrist, stunning him for a second. “I’m not going with you. Tell Sarah I’ll get a ride with Kiara.” 
He tightens his grasp on you. “To what, spend more time with this asshole? Let’s go.” He growls. 
“Let go of me, I’m not coming with you!” You use your other hand to try and force Rafe’s grip off your wrist. “I’m sick of this, Rafe!” You finally push him off of you and he stumbles back, sobering up a little. 
“I’m so sick of this!” You stumble over your words. “You’re scaring me! Who the hell are you, Rafe? Who are you?” You pull the loose hair that the wind has blown over your face out of the way. “Don’t- don’t touch me. I’m not coming with you. Don’t touch me.” 
You can’t tell if Rafe is sober right now or not, but you pray he’s not. If he’s high, then maybe he’ll forget what you just said to him. If he’s high, maybe  the next time you have to see him, you won’t have to see the wounded look he gives you now. “Y/n,” he starts towards you, but he doesn’t reach for you. His eyes are sad when he speaks again. “I’m sorry.” 
He reaches for you now. “I’m sor-”She said don’t touch her.” 
JJ has steps in front of you as you scramble back, effectively blocking you from Rafe. 
“Get out of the way, Maybank.” “She said don’t touch her. She won’t be going with you, so you can leave now. Head on out, cowboy.” JJ gives him a fake smile, one you can hear in his voice. 
“This doesn’t concern you, pogue.” Rafe spits. 
“Go home, Rafe.” Your voice comes out strong. You try to move around JJ, but he uses his arm to keep you tucked behind him. 
“What, you’re protecting pogues now, Y/n? What is this, is he your boyfriend or something?” Rafe snickers. 
JJ glances back at you before he turns to Rafe and confidently says, “Yeah. I am.” 
Your eyes grow to the size of saucers, mimicking Rafe’s expression. 
“What the fuck?” Rafe mumbles. 
“Yeah, so why don’t you leave now. I’ll be taking Y/n home.” JJ’s voice is stone cold. 
“Y/n, is this true? Are you dating this fucker?” Rafe jabs a finger in JJ’s chest, staring him down but speaking to you. The hand JJ is using to keep you back moves up to pinch your side when you glance at him. 
“Yeah. Yeah, it’s true.” 
Rafe laughs slowly, one of disbelief. “Jesus Christ, Y/l/n. You know what, you deserve each other.” He backs away slowly, then turns and storms out of sight. 
JJ turns around and his mouth opens and closes, but he says nothing. 
“Y/n, I’m sorry, I just wanted him to leave you alone without starting something, I’m- “It’s fine, Maybank.” You run a hand through your hair. 
“It’s fine, just. Just take me home.” 
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mrskurono · 4 years
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nanami x fem!reader x gojo
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tags: mlm, threesome, oral (giving and receiving), anal, light cum play, anal creampie, slight cucking, semi public
character(s): Nanami Kento (jjk), Gojo Satoru (jjk)
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“Please.”
Gojo’s voice no more than a pathetic plead as his pink lips were popped off Nanami’s cock with force. He really had nothing to say as the cock in his mouth was replaced by you grinding your soaked slit down on his face with vigor. With the same exuberance saved for Nanami’s cock stretching his jaw. Gojo was just as happy to swipe his tongue all over your soaked core in an attempt to lick up all your juices that had come from watching him gag on Nanami’s cock.
Fingers taking hold of his white hair to leverage his face up between your legs better. The second his nose pressed against your clit as Gojo’s tongue teased your entrance is enough to send a shiver right up your spine. And if that wasn’t enough Nanami had invited himself to grope at your chest as his cock was being serviced by Gojo’s hand wrapped wonderfully tight around the shaman’s cock.
“Fuck Gojo-” His name went with an exhale through your clenched teeth from his wonderful tongue work. Stepping in on these two was a blessing.
“Don’t give him too much,” Nanami looked down at the shaman gorging himself on you like it was his last meal, “He didn’t earn it.”
Reluctant but always right you have to break away from Gojo’s expert mouth even if you could spend all evening letting him eat you out.
“Aww,” Gojo’s coy grin quickly dipped into a pouty frown, “Y/n your not the one mad at me! Let me finish, Nanami is just being a meanie.”
“Be careful, I’m pretty sure this meanie would be letting you suffer with nothing,” You hadn’t let go of his hair so at Gojo’s cheeky remark you tugged his head back to look up at you both.
Of course he grinned and Gojo’s lips parted ever so slightly with a moan that escaped him. Mostly for show but it never stopped Gojo. Before you could make a move though Nanami had taken your place with his mouth on Gojo’s. Hand around gently against his throat and no need for you to be holding Gojo’s hair anymore. You relinquished the man to Nanami’s mercy.
Stepping back to enjoy the sight of the blond shaman stealing a heated kiss from the most talkative one here at Jujutsu Tech. Certainly something you might remember if Gojo became annoying in the future. Or perhaps just the blackmail of what Nanami could do to him would be enough to fluster the shaman.
“Get up,” Nanami ordered against Gojo’s lips, breaking the kiss like it was nothing as his hand left Gojo’s throat as well.
“Oh c'mon,” Gojo whined, like that would work, looking up at Nanami with a pout, “Gimme a little more than that Kento~” That earned a death glare you were downright happy not to be at the other end of. Gojo giggled and slowly got back up to his feet, “Fine fine fine, Nanami.”
Along for the ride you lean back on the desk. One leg propped up on a chair as you can’t help draw your fingertips up and down your soaked slit. Watching this unfold. The sight of both men more than alluring. But you figured Nanami had it covered as Gojo did what he said with minimum sass. Keenly aware of how badly Gojo wanted this, his sarcastic remarks were to save face because sooner or later he’d be a drooling fool on Nanami’s cock.
Nanami doesn’t hesitate to shove Gojo’s talkative mouth between your legs. Shutting him up effectively as the man wastes no time returning to what he was doing. His tongue dancing around your clit while now he can snake his fingers into toying with your entrance. Excited to have something to do is an understatement. If you hadn’t been trained to watch Nanami you would have had your eyes squeezed tight fighting off an orgasm. But you couldn’t take your eyes from the blond shaman.
“Wait-” Nanami pulled Gojo’s face from between your legs for a second. Earning a whimper from the both of you. But for good reason though as he swiped his index finger up along your slit. Coating it in your slick and Gojo’s spit. What he intended to do was obviously shortly afterwards.
Bringing his finger against Gojo’s entrance, Nanami was rightfully the first to earn a sincere moan from the white haired man. Almost pathetic as Gojo clearly pushes back on Nanami’s finger. Enjoying the sight too much your fingers return to teasing your core. Only to have the addition of Gojo’s mouth once more.
“He’s tight isn’t he Nanami~” You tease, the look of concentration on your coworker’s face amusing. He shoots you a glare but you’re nowhere in as much hot water as Gojo was going to be.
“Get over here,” Nanami wiggles his finger inside Gojo enough that even the composed shaman looses the focus on your cunt.
Obedient to his words you hop off the desk and come to Nanami. Who clearly wants you to work yourself a bit for barging in on his affairs. Obliging you get down on your knees to savor the sight of Nanami’s hard cock with a perfect bead of precum rolling down his slit. A scrumptious meal in reality you always wondered what he tasted like.
Engulfing Nanami’s cock past your watering lips, you look up at Nanami to see him looking down his nose at you. A slight hitch to Nanami’s chest as he takes in a sharp breath. More than enough of approval to continue on your merry way. The way Nanami’s cock fits in your mouth almost feels like too much. But it makes you want to take more of it. Working your tongue over every inch of him you can as your free hand squeezes the base of his cock and the other runs up and down his thigh.
Gojo’s turn. As Nanami returned his attention to the man. He had the pleasure of stretching a willing Gojo out with no time at all. The way he’d push back onto him and run his whiney mouth told Nanami he was more than ready. Trading one warm hole for another, Nanami pulled his cock away from your lips. Earning a reluctant groan from you. But with his cock covered in saliva he pressed himself up against Gojo.
“Fuck Nanami-” Gojo groaned under his breath, it’d been a while but all thoughts consuming told him how badly he wanted to take every inch of him, “Be careful now~”
Grabbing Gojo’s hips Nanami dug his broad fingertips into his flesh before pulling him all the way down on his cock. Little concern in a fleeting second for his coworker’s comfortability. Nanami pressed his cock down to the hilt inside Gojo and held himself there as the taller shaman squirmed on his length.
“Well go,” Nanami, balls deep in Gojo, tipped his head at you to a curt gesture at Gojo, “Make him shut up already.”
“Aww he wants me to be quiet,” Gojo, in no position to antagonize anyone, got what was coming to him when Nanami pulled back to snap his hips into him. The lewd mixture of Gojo’s giggle muffled by his inadvertent moan was a delight to the ears. You quickly made your way back to his face.
This time you got more comfortable on the desk. Worried less about watching the show and more about your growing need. Just the sounds from the two where enough as you craved something inside you. To remedy that you pulled Gojo’s face right to your core once more. He never missed a beat. Latching a needy mouth onto your clit as an excited tongue worked over your sensitive bud. He had every intention of making you cum now and it was obvious.
“Fuck-” Nanami’s groan stole your attention a little.
Looking up to see him, fistfuls of Gojo’s side, rutting into him with deep long strokes. If that wasn’t enough to make your insides twist and ache. The sight of Gojo’s bouncing cock might do the trick. Each thrust of Nanami’s cock into him seem to add to the wisps of precum beading and oozing off his cock. Gojo doing nothing short of making a mess under him as Nanami fucked him stupid.
In a moment of surprise, Gojo adds his fingers to the mix. So focused on them it takes you by a pleasant surprise. The second his long finger dives into you to swirl up your insides. Paired with the job his tongue was doing on your clit was almost too much.
“Shit-” You knot your hand in Gojo’s hair. Pulling him against you trying to ride his face right into your orgasm.
“Wait-” Nanami’s voice caught you off guard. He commanded your attention though even for a second, “Don’t cum yet-”
“But Nanami-” You whined at the fact you weren’t the one getting punished. That was saved for the idiot being spitroasted between the two of you. Hard to deny his order though as Gojo’s excited finger had an addition. Getting spread and fucked by both the shaman’s long dexterous fingers was borderline too much.
“Shit-” Evident Nanami’s demand was more of a plea. His own orgasm building up and making it harder to maintain his even deep strokes into Gojo. Who, for a better word, was a slobbering mess as he devoured your cunt amidst the painful ache of his cock bouncing up and down without any relief. His precum dripping out of him in the meek attempt to not cum every time Nanami’s cock rammed into his prostate.
Your orgasm could only be fought off for so long. Gojo’s tongue pressed flat into your clit as you ground yourself on his face. Too much when his long fingers hooked just in the right spot and a gush of warmth spread throughout your body. A slough of half mumbled curses fell from your mouth just as the grip on Gojo’s hair tightened. Your orgasm wracking your body in the worst way possible. Leaving you a twitching mess on the desk with Gojo’s face smashed between your legs when it was finally to late for him.
The vibration of his lips against your oversensitive clit. You moan slightly but savor the sight as Gojo’s cock jumps to life in the seconds after Nanami ruts into him nice and deep. He’s left with no other choice but to cum as Nanami’s cock milks him for his worth. Gojo’s moans muffled by your core still pressed to his lips. His seed spilt onto the floor with each rope of thick white cum oozing from his cock. Until there was a disgusting little puddle of his cum and Nanami couldn’t keep his composure anymore.
Rutting into Gojo one last time as deep as he could manage. He didn’t hesitate to fill him up with every drop of cum he’d been begging for. Nanami’s knuckles nearly turning white with the grip he had on Gojo. His cock twitching inside him as Gojo shimmied back onto him like his life depended on it. Greedy for every drop of cum Nanami was filling him with.
Finally when nothing but the heavy breathing of each of you filled the room. You release Gojo’s face from your grasp. Juices smeared all over his fucked out expression. Nanami does the same as he slips his cock from him and Gojo sinks to his knees. His own cum stain on the floor between his knees as Gojo looked down at his still hard cock.
What he didn’t expect was to see you both standing above him. Gojo takes a moment but beams a cheeky grin up at you both. But it’s obvious his eyes settle back on Nanami.
“Tch,” Nanami rolls his eyes as his hand moves to the back of Gojo’s head to lace his fingers in the man’s white hair, “Don’t think this is over yet Satoru.”
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wiypt-writes · 3 years
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Stark Spangled Rebirth
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Chapter 5: Rescue And Requisition
Summary: Steve, aided by Peggy and the Stark siblings, heads to the HYDRA base on a rescue mission, but little does he know Katie has a mission of her own.
Warnings: Bad Language words.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark
Word Count: 8.2k
A/N:  This series is my contribution of sorts to the CATF 10 Year Anniversary Challenge.  As always, some creative liberties taken. And for anyone who is interested, Katie uses the term Midnight Requisition which is a military term- “To steal, scrounge. To acquire supplies for a unit from another without their approval or knowledge, usually after business hours/dark.” 
This is the LAST catch up post, Chapter 6 onwards is NEW CONTENT!!! And continues the story, I’m so PLEASED finally to be able to share it!
Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.
SSR Masterlist // Main Masterlist
Chapter 4
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As soon as Howard Stark saw Steve, the Inventor’s face split into a huge grin and he shook his hand with vigour. Katie then explained that they needed his help to go rogue and bust the men out from behind enemy lines, causing her brother’s face to split into a huge grin and nod. The three agents quickly bustled around Howard’s tent, Peggy and Katie talking in low, hushed voices as they hurriedly grabbed various pieces of equipment before the four of them quietly and efficiently left the base, Howard slipping the guards on the perimeter gate a decent wad of cash for their silence.
It took them a little over an hour and was just starting to go dark when they reached the private airfield where Howard had stationed his plane. The waning light suited them, as Katie pointed out, it would be easier for them to operate under the cover of darkness, less chance of being detected. More money exchanged hands, something Steve had always hated, the fact that money seemed to be able to buy you anything you needed no matter how morally corrupt, but at that moment he couldn’t have given less of a shit if he tried. Before long they were in the air, Howard informing them that the trip of just over a hundred and fifty miles would take them roughly an hour and a half, which was far less than the four hours or so he anticipated it would have taken Steve in the jeep.
“You’d have run out of gas after about fifty clicks.” He had teased the soldier who had inwardly groaned as Howard pointed out the flaws in his plan. But then again Steve hadn’t been thinking all that much had he? He never did when it came to the people he cared about. He was a jump first, think later kind of guy, and the serum hadn’t done anything to change that part of his personality.
“So we’re here…” Peggy spoke, leaning forward slightly in her seat opposite Steve, pointing to the map in her hands as he checked the straps on his chute. “The HYDRA camp is in Kreischberg, tucked between these two mountain ranges.” She moved her finger a little right and from the distance it travelled and the scale on the map, Steve estimated they were no more than five miles out.
“Looks like a factory of some kind.” Katie mused, glancing at the map where she sat next to Peggy, flicking her braid back over her shoulder.
“We should be able to drop you right on the doorstep.” Howard called from the front of the aircraft, which was now shaking slightly with a mild bout of turbulence.
“Just get me as close as you can.” Steve called, before he looked back at Katie and Peggy, his voice dropping slightly. “You know you three are gonna be in a lot of trouble at the lab.”
“What else is new?” Katie shrugged, and Steve heard Howard chuckle.
“I’m surprised Old Chester ain’t sent you packing yet, Kiddo.”
“Well like you’re his best mechanical engineer, I’m his best front line agent.” She shrugged, “no offence, Peg.”
“None taken.” Peggy said somewhat sardonically, before she snorted. “We all know I’m the brains behind this operation.”
“Don’t hear me arguing.” Katie shrugged before she looked at Steve. “And you’re gonna be in just as much trouble.”
“Well, where I’m goin’, if anybody yells at me I can just shoot ‘em.” Steve replied, grinning a little. His spirits had been lifted exponentially now he was actually about to do something worthwhile, despite the fact he knew he was going to literally leap feet first into danger.
“They will undoubtedly shoot back.” Peggy fixed him with a look.
“Well,” Steve looked round at his stage prop shield that he had brought with him, which was leaning against the wall of the aircraft, “let’s hope it’s good for somethin’.” His knuckles rapped on the metal as Katie gave a little shake of her head and a side smirk, bending over to check the laces on her boots.
“Agent Carter, if we’re not in too much of a hurry I thought we could stop off in Lucerne for a late night fondue.” Howard called over his shoulder from the front of the plane and there was a moment’s silence as Peggy shifted a little awkwardly on the seat.
“Jesus, Howie, really? You’re doing this now?” Katie groaned as her brother chuckled.
“Hey, you asked me to come on this kamikaze mission.” He shot back. “I was just trying to lighten the mood a little.”
As the two siblings began to bicker Steve glanced at Peggy as he tugged on his gloves and the Agent rolled her eyes slightly. “Stark is the best civilian pilot I’ve ever seen. He’s mad enough to brave this airspace, we’re lucky to have him.”
“So are you two…do you…” Steve waved his arm between Peggy and Howard “…fondue?”
Peggy looked at him, completely ignoring his question and Steve supposed he couldn’t blame her, it was a personal question after all.  His eyes then flicked to Katie who had stood up and was making her way towards the cockpit, swaying a little with the motion of the aircraft. With a swift flick of her hand she slapped Howard round the back of the head.
“Ouch, Kiddo! Do you want me to crash this thing or what?”
“Stop being a schmuck.” She shot at him before Peggy extended her arm towards Steve, a device held in her hand.
“This is your transponder. Activate it when you’re ready and the signal will lead us straight to you.”
Steve took it from her. “Are you sure this thing works?” he looked at it a little sceptically, turning it over in his hand, his attention flicking to the cockpit.
“It’s been tested more than you, pal.” Howard shot over his shoulder and Steve looked at him before his eyes flicked to Kate who was looking out of the cockpit window straight ahead of them. She raised her arm and pointed at something, her eyes narrowing in concentration.
“Howie…” she began to speak but before she could finish her sentence the plane lurched violently sideways and Steve gripped onto the side as the sky was suddenly filled with flashes and bangs from anti-aircraft shells which exploded all around them. Realising that it was now far too dangerous for them to take him any further, Steve shot to his feet and made his way to the door, grabbing his shield as he went.
“Get back here! We’re taking you all the way in!” Peggy’s voice rose but for the first time since he’d known her, Steve completely ignored the agent, exhaling loudly before he dropped and shuffled to the edge of the plan.
“As soon as I’m free, you turn this thing around and get the hell outta here!” he turned and looked up at Katie and Peggy.
“You can’t give us orders!” Katie scoffed, her hands on her hips.
“The hell I can’t!” Steve looked up at her, unable to stop the cheeky little smirk playing on his face, “I’m a Captain!” and with that he pulled his goggles down and flung himself out into the starry sky. The noise was deafening as he plummeted through the air, the sheer force of falling whipped his body with such ferocity he was sure his hair was going to fly clean off his head. With a sharp tug of the rip cord he deployed his chute and with a sharp jolt he was pulled upwards slightly before he began to fall at a much more civilized pace.
After what seemed like an age, Steve’s sharp eyes spotted the ground rising towards him and he landed heavily in a thud. With an easy, fluid motion he yanked his parachute down to the ground and then untangled himself from the harness. Once he was free, he glanced around and realised he’d landed on the outskirts of a thick, wooded area, the earthy smells of pine, dirt and damp filled his nostrils. He took a moment to get his bearings, pulling out the compass he had in his pants. He knew that from the direction the aircraft had been travelling in he needed to head due north. As the needle settled on the point, he realised he was currently facing East so he spun to his left and was just about to set off at a run when he heard something flying in heavily from above.
He spun round, just in time to see another chute sailing towards him and in a flash he whipped out his pistol as whoever it was landed with a thud some hundred yards or so behind him..
“At ease, Soldier,” a familiar voice, soft and quiet in the cover of night, spoke and Steve felt a cold feeling of utter shock and horror fill his chest.
“What the hell are you doing here?” He hissed as he strode towards Katie who was now untangling herself from her harness.
“Same thing as you.” She replied flippantly as she took a look around and began to take a few steps away from him.
“Are you insane?” He glared at her, his hand wrapping around her arm to stop her. He could have sworn she felt the tremble in his finger tips if it weren't evident in his voice.
“Not last time I checked, no.” She wrenched free of his uncharacteristically brash grip and spun to face him, her eyes blazing at him in the dim moonlight.
“You could get yourself killed!” He pressed, his voice carrying a little more than he'd liked. He failed to keep the element of concern out of it.
“Keep your voice down!”
“Damned it Katie, this wasn’t part of the plan!”
“No, it wasn’t part of YOUR plan.” She shot back. “It was, however, always part of mine and Peg’s.”
“Peggy knows about this?”
“Of course she does.”
“And Howard?”
“No way,” Katie snorted. “I'd guess Peggy is currently getting the full force of one of his verbal bashings.” At that she pulled out her compass. “We need to go North.”
“I know.” Steve said a little sullenly, a growl in his chest.
“So let’s move. Sooner we can fulfil our missions, the better.”
The plural of the word didn’t pass him by and through the downright anger and frustration, and dare he say it, fear he was feeling at the current situation, his logical side started to kick in and he knew there was nothing he could do about any of this now, bar keep her safe. So with a sigh, he shook his head and turned to follow her as she’d begun to walk away, his brain registering her last words.
“Missions?” he asked, stressing the word. “We have more than one?”
“One each.” Katie shot over her shoulder. “You’re on a rescue mission. Mine’s more of a midnight requisition.”
“Midnight requisition? For what?”
“Intel, tech, anything we can get our hands on.” She picked up her pace, scrambling up a slight incline. “I told you in the plane, I’m a damned good field agent and this isn’t my first raid. We’ve done a few over the past couple of months. But they’ve all been bust, well almost all anyway.”
“Bust?” Steve frowned “How?”
“They were smaller Nazi controlled labs.” She continued to speak as she weaved through the forest “The more we raided and the more intel we gathered, the more it became apparent we were right, Schmidt is marching to his own tune.” She paused and looked around. “The fight at Azzano wasn’t his first move, he advanced a load of troops into Norway a month or so ago of his own accord. Then, at Azzano, he opened fire on both Allied and Nazi troops alike.  My guess is, and Peggy agrees, that this base will likely be under his control alone. And probably house more information about where his other ones are hidden.”
“Others?”
“This won’t be the only one.” Katie shrugged as she looked at her compass and turned right. “And without that information, Steve, we’re fighting blind. We can’t defeat HYDRA if we don’t know where they are.”
“You should have told me.” He replied, his tone still a little sullen. He didn’t like being in the dark.
“What, so you could blow the plan in front of my brother?” She scoffed. “He’d have refused to take us had he known what I was planning, he was bad enough when I had a full troop behind me.”
“You led a troop?”
“Don’t sound so surprised.” She chuckled. “You know I’m actually an ‘honorary’ Lieutenant, thanks to Colonel Phillips. Didn’t go down well at first, most of the men weren’t keen on taking orders from a woman.”
“So that’s what you meant when you called them all jerks earlier by the stage.” Despite himself Steve felt a smile curl across his face.
“Yup. They soon fell in line when a few of them ended up with my fist in their mouth. Not to mention a good number also found themselves on the end of a Phillips’ Special.”
“A Phillips Special?”
“Yeah, the term coined for when they’re stripped naked and made to run ten miles round camp by the Colonel.” She shrugged. “For all his bluster, Chester’s actually been really supportive of both me and Peggy. That, and he doesn’t like subordination in any form.”
“You don’t say.” Steve muttered as Katie continued, her foot-falls light and quiet as she weaved her way through the thicket of the trees.
They continued for about an hour, alternating their pace between a jog and a fast walk. Had Steve been on his own he no doubt could have run the entire distance a lot faster but he didn’t raise that issue, and there was no point being frustrated about it either. Firstly, there was nothing he could do about it, secondly, to be fair, Katie kept up a decent enough pace and thirdly, had he been running as fast as he could have he would no doubt have run straight into one of the various HYRDRA patrols they encountered within the woods. As it happened, the pace they were going at was perfect for his sharp senses to alert him whenever a passing patrol was near, enabling them to duck out of sight.
Eventually, the trees began to thin out and through the gloomy mist that had descended, which he had to admit was incredibly useful to keep their presence as covert as possible, Steve saw the perimeter fence and gate to the camp. He stopped dead, his arm out causing Katie to also pause and as he studied the gate, trying to figure out the best way in, he heard the rumble of trucks coming from his side. He spun just in time to see them approaching down the road which led through the wooded area and he crouched down, pulling Katie down with him.  
“Reckon you can make the last one?” He asked, turning to face her.
“Yeah.” She nodded. “They’re not going too fast.”
Steve took another look around before he nodded and the two of them ran for the last truck, Katie springing up first and he heard her give a little sigh as he pulled himself up over the tail gate. “Crap.”
The reason for her curse soon became apparent as Steve landed in the back of the truck and came face to face with two HYDRA guards.
"Fellas." He nodded. There was a split second and they both lunged at him at the same time. He pushed Katie a little harshly to the right as he hit one with straight punch to the face, the other dropping with a groan as Katie had connected a well-aimed boot to his stomach. As both guards tried to scramble to their feet, Steve grabbed both their heads, smashing them together like a pair of cymbals before he tossed them straight out of the back.
“Impressive.” Katie looked at him, smirking and Steve rolled his eyes as she turned and looked carefully through a small tear in the side of the canvas of the truck. “They’re taking us straight in.”
“And then what?”
“I dunno, you tell me, you’re the Star Spangled Man with a Plan after all.”
“Oh for the love of…this isn’t some kind of fucking day’s outing!” He practically exploded and Katie groaned.
“Lighten up, Steve.” She turned away, looking back through the hole in the side of the truck. “It was a joke.”
“Well I see nothing funny about any of this, at all.”
“And you think I do?” Katie turned, her eyes once more full of an angry fire. “Let me tell you, Captain, my unit has seen things these last four months that no one should ever have to see. And you know how we dealt with it? By NOT dealing with it.” She brushed a piece of hair off her face. “We joked, made light of the situations we found ourselves in because they were downright fear inducing, and if we didn’t none of us would have lasted five minutes. So take that stick out of your ass and stop being so goddamned self-righteous.”
Steve blinked, but before he could respond to her angry outburst the truck slowed and then began to reverse. Eventually it came to a stop and Steve could hear someone at the tail of the truck so he gestured for Katie to get behind him, which she did. He simply raised his shield in front of his body and waited. The flap to the back of the truck opened and without hesitation Steve smashed the shield straight into the guard’s face, sending him flying backwards. Quickly and quietly, shield on his arm, he jumped out of the truck, turning to help Katie down and the pair of them turned left, jumping off the raised loading platforms and jogging, all the time keeping their bodies stooped and low.
There were lines and lines of tanks emblazoned with the HYDRA symbol and the two of them shared a glance at one another. It was clear to Steve that Katie and Peggy were right, Schmidt had been gearing HYDRA up to be far more than a science division for some time if this equipment was anything to go by. Together, they weaved their way through the lines of armoured vehicles, taking care to keep to the shadows and out of sight as they made their way towards a smaller outbuilding that looked like it led into the main base.
“Come on.” Steve gently nudged Katie and the pair of them ran across the ground. Steve hopped up onto a tank that was conveniently parked by the annex, offering his hand to Katie to pull her up. They both scrambled onto the flat roof and ran, hopping up onto a slightly higher roof before they reached a set of metal steps which led up the side of the huge base. Katie went first, scrambling as fast as she could up them where she paused on a platform approximately halfway up. She nodded to a thick, iron door which led inside the building and Steve moved to try it, shaking his head.
“It’s locked.”
“Yeah, and you have the strength of like thirty men or whatever.” She rolled her eyes “Open it.”
He looked at her, narrowing his eyes at the fact she was bossing him around but he didn’t argue. He moved towards the door, shaking his head “This isn’t gonna-“ he gave a sharp tug and with a squeal the door pulled straight off the hinges “-work.” He finished lamely, looking from the door to Katie who stood there, arms folded, smirking.
“If only you had as much faith in you as I have.” She said a little sardonically and once more he glared at her. Pulling out her pistol Katie made to go in the door and Steve put his arm out.
“No, I’ll go first.” He stopped her.
“That’s not gonna work because you need to prop the door back up, so when that guard patrol comes back it doesn’t look like someone broke in.” She shook her head. Steve let out an exasperated sigh, more frustrated that she’d pointed out yet another potential issue he hadn’t considered in his haste and she smiled at him, “This is what I’m trained in, stealth.” She shrugged
She stepped inside, keeping herself flattened to the wall as Steve followed, leaning the door back up before he paused as they both looked around, finding themselves in a corridor of sorts.
“Any ideas on which way?” He asked and Katie pondered for a moment.
“Well, the front of the camp is left.” She frowned and Steve nodded his agreement.
“So we go right.”
“Yup.”
“Keep behind me, stay in the shadows.” He couldn’t help himself but instruct her, but to her credit she didn’t argue, merely gave him a little salute as the two of them set off through the factory.
A short while later they reached another door, only this one was guarded, they could see through the etched glass window embedded within it. Steve signalled to Katie to keep back before he knocked. The guard turned and came towards them, and as soon as the door opened Steve punched him hard in the face before smashing his head between the door and the wall. As the guard went down he caught him, pulling him silently out before the two of them headed inside, taking care to shut the door behind them. They appeared now to be in the main munitions storage area of the factory, and it was busy. Guards swarming all over, people driving pickups laden with crates, and each soldier seemed to be carrying guns powered by some form of liquid that was glowing a bright, cobalt blue.  
They dodged between aisles, using whatever they could to keep out of sight and as they snuck between a collection of huge metal containers of some kind, they both paused as they spotted what appeared to be racks of small, rectangular shaped metal items all containing the mysterious blue liquid. It was eerie, like nothing Steve had ever seen before and he gently moved to a closer look, picking one up.
“What the hell is that?” Katie whispered as he turned it over in his hand.
“I have absolutely no idea.” He shrugged “Except, to state the obvious, it looks like some kind of grenade. But, I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
“We should take them back to the lab.” She stated and Steve nodded his agreement, sticking the item into the pocket of his fatigues before they set off to continue their search heading even deeper into the base.
After another fifteen minutes or so of dodging as many HYDRA agents as they could, and subduing the ones they couldn’t, they reached a large room deep in the belly of the base and Steve took a deep breath as he looked around the room at the huge metal cages that contained easily over a hundred soldiers, if not two. He felt Katie still besides him as she also glanced around, her eyes flashing as she scanned the room, her attention instantly shooting upwards when they saw a warden walking above the cages on some kind of gangway, in which the large, circular tops of the cages were embedded. Steve also spotted another guard weaving his way amongst the large cells on the floor and took a deep breath.
“Right,” he turned to Katie. “I’ll take the one up top first, then I’ll drop down and-“
Katie took an exasperated breath, “don’t you trust me or something?” She hissed.
“Of course I do, but-“
“Then you go up high, I’ll take the one down below. I can do this, I’m not some fairy-tale princess that needs protecting. And whilst I appreciate your chivalry, as well you know, now is not the time, Soldier.”
Steve inhaled deeply and looked at her, her green eyes bored into his and he gave her a sharp nod deciding to go along with her, despite every part of his brain screaming at him not to.  Without looking back, he ran around the side of the large room and found a set of metal steps which led up the side. He took them two at a time and then continued along the raised platform that ran round the side of the room, crouching as he went to keep out of the dim light that the small, barred windows let in. He spotted the guard coming his way and ducked even more, waiting, and once the man was within reach he grabbed his shield from his back and swung it with a huge arm straight at his face. The guard topped backwards and landed heavily on top of one of the cages out cold.
As Steve moved and began to search the guard for his keys, all the prisoners stood up, their eyes wide with shock and surprise.
“And who the hell are you supposed to be?" One of them spoke as the rest continued to simply stare at him in stunned silence and he didn’t miss the way a few of them eyed him up and down, taking in his helmet and shield painted in the stars and stripes of the American Flag.
“I’m…” Steve answered a little breathlessly as he hesitated for a moment as he began to look around for Katie, but he found no sign of her, “Captain America." He finished a little lamely, glancing back down.
"I beg your pardon?" Another man spoke, this one in a British accent as Steve grabbed the keys from the guard’s belt and ran back the way he had come. As heard he ran across the floor to the first cage, he heard the hisses and rumbles of excited murmurs he glanced up to see Katie jogging towards him.
"Merde," one of the prisoners uttered as all heads turned in her direction.
“Language!” Katie turned her eyes to the soldier who had spoken, giving a slight smirk which the man returned as Steve unlocked the cage he was in.
“You okay?” He asked Katie as they moved to the next cage and she nodded.
“Yeah, took him down with a choke hold then kicked him in the face for good measure,” she shrugged as they moved down to the next cage, then the next.
“Well, well, well, Lady Lieutenant!” A tall, wide man spoke and Steve saw Katie’s head snap in his direction, her smirk turning into a huge smile. “What took you so long?”
“Got here as fast as I could. I'll be outta here just as fast when Phillips finds out where I am.” Katie grinned, before she shook her head and sighed, her voice cracking. “Damned it Dum Dum, we thought you were all dead!”
“Take more than that to get rid of us.”
Systematically, they moved through the room, unlocking each cage as they went until they reached the last one, all the time Steve scanning the faces of the prisoners all as they all emerged, shaking hands and hugging one another. But the face he had been hoping to see wasn’t amongst any of them.
"Are there any others?" Steve whispered, pushing his way between the man he knew only as Dum Dum and an Asian man who was holding his dog tags up, looking slightly affronted.  “I'm looking for a Sergeant James Barnes." He asked, turning to the British soldier who began walking alongside him and Katie.
"There's an isolation ward in the factory, but no one has ever come back from it." The British Man spoke.
“Alright,” Steve spoke, considering his options as he continued walking towards the door through which they had entered. "The tree line's northwest, about eighty yards past the gate. Agent Stark knows where it is.” He stopped and turned, nodding towards Katie, his eyes returning back to the group of men “You follow and take your instructions from her, you got it?”
The British man and a few others began to nod, the excitement and anticipation of a fight was easily sensed and Katie stepped forward, shaking her head.
“Steve,” she began to protest but this was one order he was not going to let her ignore.
“You said your mission was requisition.” His eyes locked on hers “So use these guys and do it. Get out fast and give ‘em hell. I'll meet you in the clearing with anybody I find inside."
For a moment he thought she was going to argue but she didn’t. Instead, she took a deep breath and nodded, her eyes still locked onto his. In that split second, Steve hesitated. There was so much he wanted to say, but, he couldn’t find the words to express what he was feeling. He wanted to tell her to stay safe, to keep herself out of danger, make sure she got out alive…but instead he looked at her, swallowing and she gave him a soft smile.
“I know.” She said gently, “you too.”
Steve gave her another curt nod, his chest tightening a little as he turned to go.
"Wait, you know what you're doing?" A soldier shouted after him, and Steve looked back over his shoulder about to answer before he heard Katie quip.
“He’s knocked out Adolf Hitler over two hundred times."
The prisoners furrowed their brows, before glancing around at each other with confused expressions on their faces and despite himself Steve gave a little chuckle, looking at Katie’s grinning face once more before he turned around and jogged out of the door, her voice ringing in his ears as she issued instructions to the troops.
“You heard the Captain. Now the base is heavily armed so we’re absolutely going to have to fight our way out. On the way, we grab as much tech and weapons as we can. Not only to use but also for further analysis by my unit….”
Her voice died down as Steve picked up a jog, shield on his back and headed off back the way they had come.  It wasn’t long before a loud siren rang out and Steve took a deep breath, trying to push his worry away as shouts and loud explosions boomed in his ears, signalling the fight had begun. He continued making his way into the factory, fighting his way through a number of guards easily as gunfire sounded all around him, the angry yells and screams of fighting filled his ears as the freed prisoners began to engage with the HYDRA soldiers.
He fought his way up onto the gangway that circled the main factory floor, dispatching another guard with a swift, hard boot to the abdomen that sent him flying over the railing and he took a look around, the sheer size of the factory floor catching him off guard for a moment before he remembered what he was here to do. Pulling out his pistol he turned right, jogging round the gangway until he hit a dimly lit corridor. He continued round and, as he quickly made his way through in search of the isolation ward, he saw a short man in thick glasses, carrying a briefcase and a number of files in his arms emerge from a room. The man stopped dead, looked at Steve and then turned and sprinted away from him, heading round the corner. Steve began to run after him, but as he passed the room the man had emerged from, he slowed when he heard what sounded like someone talking, mumbling even.
Taking a deep breath, he entered the room, following the sound as it became clearer and then his heart stopped and he grew hot, his breathing deep as he knew that voice. It was weak but still so familiar, even if it had been months since he had heard it.
"Sergeant. 32557…"
He hurried through another door, glancing towards the end of the room and saw the man he’d come to this very place for, strapped to a reclined medical chair.
"Bucky?" Steve shot over, pausing at the side of the chair and looking down at his best friend. Bucky’s eyes didn’t move, instead he kept chanting his rank and number as he stared blankly up at the ceiling. "Oh my God." Steve swallowed was his eyes travelled over Bucky’s body, taking in the restraints that kept him strapped to the chair. He looked tired, weak, sick even, and it hurt Steve to see him in such a state. Bucky had always been the strong one out of the pair of them, normally looking after him. But, well, now it was time to return the favour.  He swallowed and began ripping the straps around him with ease.
"Is that…?"
"It's me. It’s Steve.”
"Steve?" Bucky murmured, his face breaking into a smile as recognition flooded his features.
"Come on." Steve helped Bucky to his feet, holding onto his arms as he steadied himself before he gently reached out and patted the side of his friends face.
"I thought you were dead," Steve sighed as Bucky frowned, his eyes fixed on where Steve’s face would normally have been, and when he instead found himself looking at Steve’s chest, he raised his eyes up wards, puzzlement etched across his face.
"I thought you were smaller.” Bucky swallowed and Steve kept hold of him, helping him to stand upright as he became more coherent. Whilst Bucky was gaining his senses, Steve took a quick glance around and his eyes focussed on a map pinned to the wall, various positions highlighted upon it across Europe. Committing it to memory he then slung Bucky's arm over his shoulder, for the first time ever bearing his friend’s weight.
"Come on," he urged as he began to lead him out of the lab.
"What happened to you?" Bucky asked as Steve pretty much hauled him out of the room, keeping him upright as he stumbled, his feet struggling for traction.
"I joined the Army." Steve replied simply.
As they made their way back down the corridor, Steve felt Bucky becoming able to bear some of his own weight, and then gently nudge at Steve to let him go so he did. Bucky followed behind a pace or two his arm clutched over his ribs.
"Did it hurt?" He suddenly asked.
"A little," Steve replied, his head still looking around.
"Is it permanent?"
"So far."  Steve nodded as they continued.
Suddenly, there was a loud explosion which rocked the factory and the two men paused for a second before they picked up the pace. Eventually they emerged onto the gangway Steve had walked round before and immediately recoiled back as another explosion sent a huge ball of fire up into the air. Steve held his shield up to protect his face as Bucky ducked slightly, his hand gripping one of the railings, other hiding his face.  Turning away from the railings, Steve started to head up a set of stairs immediately behind him, Bucky following. The heat was stifling and it made Steve feel like he was stuck in a furnace as they quickly sprinted up the metal steps and emerged onto another gangway. Taking a right, they began to sprint down it, explosions and flames roaring below them. Steve’s brow beaded with sweat and he wiped it with the back of his hand, taking another look down.  He had no idea whether the fire had been started by the men led by Katie or some self-destruction ploy by HYDRA to prevent any of their plans or weapons getting into their hands, either way he found it hard to care. One less base to deal with he supposed.
“Captain America!”
Steve stopped dead, turning to his left to see two men on the other side of the factory by an elevator door. One was the shorter bespectacled man Steve had seen before, and the other he recognised also, but only from photos. Johann Schmidt, HYDRA leader. He was dressed in a long black trench-coat of sorts, a large silver buckle bearing the HYDRA symbol spanned his waist and he turned towards Steve as he handed the other man a silver briefcase.
“How exciting! I'm a great fan of your films.” Schmidt’s thick German accent carried across the factory as he began to walk over the gangway towards Steve. Steve took a deep breath, his jaw setting as he strode towards the man, the anger surging through his body.  “So, Dr. Erskine managed it after all. Not exactly an improvement, but still impressive."
At that Steve swung his right arm back and bridged the two or so feet in between him and Schmidt with a punch straight to the man’s face, the impact forcing the HYDRA leader back a few steps.
"You've got no idea," Steve snarled.
Schmidt merely smirked, before standing up, cracking his jaw slightly and Steve frowned at the way the right hand side of his face appeared to have sagged away from his eye socket.  "Haven't I?"
Quickly, the man’s fist flew towards Steve, but equally as quickly he raised his shield to block it. The metal vibrated in his hands and to his utter shock the item dented with the force of Schmidt’s blow. It was then that Steve recalled Erskine telling him how the man had taken the serum, and that it had enhanced him too. In a flash he reached for his pistol but Schmidt was too quick and laded a punch straight to the left hand side of Steve’s jaw. He was knocked completely off his feet, falling backwards onto the metal of the gangway, the pistol he had been holding slid straight out of his hand and over the edge. Schmidt advanced towards Steve but he threw all his weight into a huge double kick, which sent the man sprawling backwards.
As Steve got to his feet, the gangway he was on suddenly began to move backwards, separating him from Schmidt who stood up, the two men not moving a muscle as the metal walkway drew them both back to their respective sides.
"No matter what lies Erskine told you, you see I was his greatest success!" Schmidt yelled as Steve stood still, his chest heaving, as Schmidt reached up for his face, grabbing at the skin at the left hand side of his jaw. As Steve watched, to his horror, he began to peel back the skin revealing that it was a mask, and underneath was a grotesque, featureless red skull.
Steve swallowed, his face wrinkling up as he tried to understand what the hell he had just seen. What he was still seeing, for that matter.
"You don't have one of those, do you?" Bucky mumbled, his attention also on the man in front of them.
"You are deluded, Captain. You pretend to be a simple soldier, but in reality,” Schmidt tossed the mask down into the flames, Steve following it with his eyes before he glanced back across the factory room “,you are just afraid to admit that we have left humanity behind.” At that Schmidt turned to his right and walked towards the now open elevator “Unlike you, I embrace it proudly. Without fear!" he gestured with his hand as he made his way into the elevator.
"Then how come you're running?" Steve yelled back. It was a pathetic shot really, all things considered, but it was all Steve could think about saying given what had happened. As expected, Schmidt completely ignored him and merely smirked as he pressed a button to his right and the doors closed.
Steve paused, still not completely sure what the hell had gone on when a large explosion rocked the platform they were stood on, causing both him and Bucky to duck once more from debris that shot up all around them.
They needed a way out. Steve’s eyes fell back on the elevator and he followed the shaft upwards spotting a set of doors right at the top which led, he assumed, to the roof. He followed the line of the ceiling, noticing there was a thin gantry that led over to the side they were on, and he spun round to spot another set of steps which led upwards.
That was it, their only way out.
"Come on," Steve turned around, grabbing Bucky’s arm and leading him to the stairs. "Let's go. Up."
Together they hurriedly climbed and reached the highest walkway that stretched across the factory floor that was now burning, Steve felt, hotter than hell itself. Explosions rocked the catwalks causing everything to shake and Steve glanced at the flimsy gantry that led over to the side they needed to be on, then back to Bucky.
“Let’s go. One at a time.” He moved to help Bucky climb over the railings to allow him to cross first. Bucky made his way tentatively across the thin beam of metal and as he was roughly at the halfway point, it began to give way. Bucky picked up his pace and threw himself off the edge grabbing the railings at the other side, but the gantry collapsed behind him leaving Steve stranded.
Steve watched as Bucky hauled himself over and then tuned to face him, the realisation that Steve was stuck evident on his face as he looked back at him.
"Gotta be a rope or something!" Bucky shouted hopefully. At that point another part of the factory below them fell with a loud crash into the fire below and Steve swallowed, shaking his head.
"Just go! Get out of here!" he bellowed, waving Bucky away. Bucky shook his head, his hands gripping the railing around the walkway.
"No! Not without you!" He screamed back, desperation lacing his tone.
Steve looked over at him, then peered down at the fire, before taking another look up. If he stayed where he was, he was a dead man. If he jumped and didn’t make it, he was a dead man. But if he didn’t jump, well he had no chance of making it at all.
Decision made, he pushed the now broken bars of the railings in front of him, bending it out of the way to create a gap large enough to jump through. He took a few steps back, once more gaging the distance before he sighed and grimaced a little at what he was about to do. His thoughts flashed to Katie, his only comfort out of all of this was that she wasn’t stuck with him now and had a good chance of having made it out. With a deep breath he set off at a sprint before he launched himself off the side, over the huge chasm below. His arms flailed, as did his legs as he spun them to try and maintain momentum, the flames and explosions licking at his boots and with a loud grunt he landed, his arms gripping tightly onto the remainder of the railing beside Bucky. Bucky was quick to grab him, hauling him over, the pair of them falling to the metal walkway. Steve landed with a grunt on his back and took a huge breath, turning to look at Bucky who was led besides him, his chest heaving.  
“Thanks.” Steve panted as Bucky looked at him, incredulously.
“You’re thanking me? Whatever, punk.”
Another large explosion rocked the gangway they were on and they both rolled over, before pushing themselves up, stumbling a little as they made their way hastily through the door, bursting out into the cold night air. Steve took a split second to gather his bearings, his eyes flicking to the front gate of the camp before he located a set of the metal railing type rungs the same as the ones he and Katie had used to gain entry at the side of the building.
“This way.” Steve instructed as he led Bucky towards it, and started to descend, all the time keeping one eye on his friend in case he lost his grip and Steve needed to catch him. When Steve’s feet finally touched down on solid ground he felt like yelling in utter relief, but they weren’t clear yet. Once Bucky landed besides him, they both set off at a sprint across the outside area of the camp. There were still a fair number of soldiers running around but they were too busy trying to escape the burning building to pay him and Bucky any attention. Nevertheless, they kept to the shadows and made their way out of the gate, Steve taking a sharp right following the way he had come with Katie before.
As they walked towards the clearing they were aiming for, the hushed sound of voices and chatter hit their ears and he heard Bucky take a sharp breath.
“Steve?” Bucky asked as Steve continued walking, his feet crunching over the frosty ground under his boots. “Is that…”
“No, it’s not HYDRA.” Steve assured him. “We found a bunch of other prisoners before you, got them out first.”
“We?” Bucky asked, “there was someone else with you?”
“Yeah, it was….” Steve trailed off as they emerged into the clearing and a number of men wheeled round, guns raised. As they spotted who it was, their weapons dropped but before Steve could say anything, Katie pushed through the middle and stopped dead, her chest heaving. She looked a little roughed up- some of her uniform was torn, there was a cut to her right temple, a trickle of blood having seeped down her cheek and the same side of her face looked a little red and bruised, but other than that, she seemed fine.
Steve felt relief flood his system at the sight of her, and without a word he strode quickly towards her and she threw herself at him, wrapping her legs round his waist as he held her tight, one hand supporting her lower back, the other gripping at the back of her head, fisting softly in her untidy hair.
“Thank God.” he mumbled, closing his eyes as he held her close, pressing his face into her hair.
“You’re late.” She stuttered and he let out a splutter of a laugh as he pulled back to look at her. “I thought you were gonna stand me up.”
“Never,” he shook his head, his eyes locking onto hers. They stood still, no attention being paid to anyone around them at all and Steve swallowed, his eyes flicking down to her mouth. His face dropped towards hers, and then a voice spoke from behind them, completely interrupting him and reminding him that firstly he was in the middle of a still heavily occupied with enemy troops forest and secondly, that they were most certainly not alone.
“Well, this is nice.”
Steve closed his eyes and let out a sigh as he set Katie onto her feet, stepping back out of her space, blushing furiously. She peered round him, as he turned and saw Bucky smirking at the pair of them. He jerked his face towards Katie, arching an eyebrow.
“Hey, Doll face.”
“Barnes.” She scanned him up and down, taking in his appearance before she smiled. “Good to see you in one piece.”
“Yeah, I hate to break this little reunion up,” Dum Dum spoke and they all turned to face him, “but I suggest we get moving and tie up with the rest.”
“The rest?” Steve frowned, looking around, and for the first time he noticed that there were a lot less men than he had anticipated “Where…”
“We split into three main groups. We took a few losses but most of us made it. My group managed to take a few vehicles.” Katie explained. “Some kind of tank, two trucks. We also found a huge storehouse too and loaded both trucks with as much as we could take, weapons, ammo, and equipment, what ration packs we could find.” She took a deep breath. “There’s an old abandoned allied base some ten miles South East which someone suggested would be easier for us to hold up in whilst we waited for help. I sent a group ahead with the seriously wounded along with support. Said we would meet them there.”
Steve blinked, astounded at her planning, although he knew he really shouldn’t be. He nodded and then looked around, before a huge explosion made them all jump and Steve turned to see an enormous fireball erupt into the sky signalling that the HYDRA base had finally gone up completely.
“Okay, let’s move.” He instructed, as Katie began to bark out instructions again, before she hurried forward and fell into step alongside Dugan, who pulled out his compass before he pointed and began to bellow out for everyone to make tracks.
“So,” Bucky fell into step alongside Steve, and Steve kept his eyes focussed ahead as they began to walk “Somethin’ going on between you two or…”
“Don’t know what you mean.” Steve replied, but couldn’t help the smirk that spread across his face as he continued to avoid Bucky’s searching glance.
“You’re a punk.” Bucky snorted, nudging him.
“Jerk.” Steve replied simply, the smile on his face growing bigger by the second.
***** Chapter 6
86 notes · View notes
ac3id · 4 years
Text
resilience [18+]
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pairings: shigaraki tomura x female! reader 
summary: if you’re updated w/ the manga u prolly know shigaraki is now all beefed up phew. shigaraki stans stay winning. so here’s a fic where our struggling pro hero y/n wants to become stronger but working hard iisn’t working so she runs to shigaraki, the king of the underworld, to give her a quirk. shigaraki takes this as the perfect opportunity to teach a scum hero hero her place. 
warnings: dubcon-ish, shiggy is really mean, dumbification, size kink nasty nasty 
word count: 4k+ 
masterlist
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From a young age, everyone around you had high hopes for you. Your parents wanted you to make them proud, your teachers wanted you to give your hundred percent always. Your friends admired you, they dreamed of being you. You were the golden child. Loved by everyone so, when you developed your quirk no one was shocked to learn that it was one of the strongest quirks out there.
Your parent’s dreams for you soared even higher and soon everyone was complimenting you and deeming how amazing you’d do as a Pro-Hero and you listened to them. You trained your entire childhood in hopes of becoming the No. 1 Hero, even got into a known Hero school, and graduated on top of your class. You thought you were invincible until you started your career as a Pro. 
It was hard. It was so much harder than you had expected. Apparently, your will to save citizens wasn’t enough to make you a legitimate Hero to the eyes of the public. Even if you worked your ass off it wasn’t enough. Weaker and useless Heroes whose only specialty was steering drama with others would sweep in at the last minute and take your victory as theirs’. 
You wanted to speak up about this but your agent had said you’d go nowhere; those Heroes had been in the business longer. No one would have taken your side, you were just a rookie. If you wanted to be admired, you had to also use cheap tricks and form connections with names. 
At first, you refused. It went against your moral code but soon after you started receiving angry phone calls from your peers; them explaining how embarrassing it was that no one even knew who you were, your mind quickly changed. Next thing, you are just like the others using cheap tricks working on your public image rather than actual Hero work. You thought finally it’d work and it did! After a few months, you were under the Top 30 Heroes list. The “hard” work had paid off now, it was only way upwards to the No.1 but you found yourself not rising the ladder. You were stuck in the Top 30. Nothing upwards but other Heroes were beating your position, it was all falling over again. You needed to do something to save yourself.
That’s when you heard about him. A man who granted people power, the King of the Underground. He acted like the Devil himself. Granting your desire for a price. People talked about him in hushed whispers, they acted if he did not exist but he did. He was very much there. His men had been terrorizing the country for so long; his men were hardest to fight. 
You thought about it. You could reach him and ask him for power, after all, you could do anything to be the No. 1 Hero. You couldn’t afford to disappoint the people who had supported you, your entire lives even deep down you knew the only reason everyone- anyone talked to you was for their own selfish reasons but that was okay. They were the only people you had.
So you rolled the dice and made up your mind to meet the Mad King. Shigaraki Tomura.
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The hallway was run down and dimly lit; you watched your step as you moved forward not wanting to step over a dead rat or lizard. You were told that you’d see Shigaraki if you walked through it. Your heart beats faster with each step you take; the hallway is awfully quiet excluding the sounds of rats chattering away in the distance. 
Meeting him was not easy, getting this far had been hell. You had to make many calls and sit through many sleepless nights just to confirm the rumor all while making it look like you weren’t investigating Shigaraki Tomura behind their backs. You had gone through a great deal of trouble to make sure your identity was kept hidden from the Government. 
As you took the last turn you were met with a shut door. You latched on the handle, twisting it and pushing the door open. It was a meeting room. A long table stood in the room chairs all empty beside the very center. 
A man sat there, his legs propped up on the table resting over papers and pens dressed in an expensive suit, his long white hair scanned his face. A severed hand rested on his face red, angry eyes gleaming from the gaps of the fingers. Upon seeing to enter the room he crossed his hands over his chest, muscles bulging- almost ripping the sleeves open. He looks at you finally acknowledging your presence; glaring from behind the hand his gaze sends a shiver down your spine. You stand completely captivated and amazed yet scared under the presence of Shigaraki Tomura. 
You stand there frozen unable to move. You never thought you’d ever meet the most wanted man in japan like this: dressed in nothing but a t- shirt and jeans, unarmed and vulnerable 
 His harsh voice cuts through the air as he glares at you. 
“Well?” he asks and you walk inside the room. You stand there awkwardly, wondering whether you should take a seat or not, “Am I supposed to sit down too? Might as well ask if I can kiss your feet?” He snarls, the sarcastic comment leaving his tongue without any hesitance. 
He’s quite mean.
You mumble a quiet apology as you sit yourself a few chairs away from him- you’d like to keep your distance from this dangerous man, biting your lip you think of how you should start the conversation but Shigaraki is impatient. He groans in amusement and slams his feet on the table, flying the papers 
“What. The. Fuck. Do. You. Want. Why. Are. You. Here.”  His tone was harsh, filled with irritation. “I am here for the quirk.” Shigaraki’s brow twitches, he stares at you with confusion basking in his eyes. 
“Quirk?” he pauses tilting his head up facing the ceiling, his hand goes to scratch at his neck; breaking the skin. While he thinks to himself about what you could possibly mean, your mind starts thinking about in all the ways this scenario could work out. Maybe he’d give you the quirk and let you like you were promised, only come back when he needed your assistance in some task. To be honest, you weren’t quite ready to face that day yet. Second, he could kill you right here, right now for just thinking about something so obnoxious. And that’s about it. Those were the only two scenarios you could think of. You also thought of catching him off guard and bringing him back to the Hero Commission but you also knew he was way stronger than you. You silently prayed that you’d get out of this alive and well. 
For a second, you thought Shigaraki had fallen asleep. He was too quiet and the hand on his face did not help in distinguishing whether he was sleeping or not. 
“Shigaraki,” you called and he turns his face back to you, “You’re that fucking Hero.” he spits with disgust. “You want a fucking quirk right? I was told I’ve got an appointment with some scum Hero who wants to get stronger.” You did not pay attention to his belittling. You had gone through much worse hate and had survived. 
“Yes, now, would you please tell me how I can get one.” you added the ‘please’ mockingly, it seemed to affect the villain.
“I don’t help pigs like you.” 
You almost rolled your eyes, there was more convincing to do and you did not want to talk- hell- breathe the same air as this man but you couldn’t return home alone. You had to endure it. You took a deep breath and calmed yourself down, getting ready for a long night. 
“I couldn’t care less what you think about me. I was promised a deal and I expect you to keep your end of the bargain up.” you sighed, “Just for walking through that door and sitting here I had to pay a lot out of my pocket. I’m not leaving until you give it to me.” Your voice was sturdy and rigid. Exerting confidence, for a moment you felt strong. Talking back to a wanted villain like him gave you a false sense power. He sat silently, lost in thought again. 
“You’re gonna be here a while? That’s bothersome. But….you do know that I can just kill you and leave? Make it easier for both of us.” he finished. Anger surged through your veins as you decided against choking him to death. “Shigaraki. Please.” you begged, Godamnit. As much as you wanted to rival his hate towards you, you were smart and knew that you couldn’t afford to make any rash decision now because a single touch from him could mean game over for you. “You’re begging now?” He scoffed, “Okay, tell me why you want it so bad.” You bite your lip deciding whether you should go along with his idle chit-chat. 
“Listen. I really need it. I’m stuck in a useless rank and the walls keep closing in. I don’t disappoint the people around me. It’s really important to me. I don’t expect you to understand but- shit if you want me to beg I will. For that power, I’d do anything.” 
An eerie silence filled the room, Shigaraki remained quiet. He thought about what he could want from you. There was nothing, you were useless to him- a waste of time really. He should just decay you and leave. That would be the right thing to do but then again, the way you looked at him with desperation in your eyes stirred something in him. Maybe it was the unconscious acceptance you held knowing that he is in charge. The power imbalance was starting to get him going. He could imagine you wrapping your pretty, plump lips around his fat cock while he used your throat as he pleased. He was a little tired after all. Maybe he’d even give you a weak quirk and let you off to do your worthless heroics. 
“So you’d really do anything?” He was intrigued. You didn’t want to say yes because you knew he’d make you do something horrible, something you could never really recover from. You could see it in his eyes but in the end, you knew. 
“Yes. Anything,”
He quickly lifted the severed hand from his face and placed it gently on the table, you genuinely wanted to cry. His lips curled at the corner, his lips split into a menacing smile. It was evil, it was dangerous yet it was the calm before the storm. The crazed smile only made you aware about how much you were going to regret this decision. It made you sick.
“Sexual favors. If you want this power, make me cum.”
Your eyes widen in shock, your mouth agape as you process his words. What? 
“You can’t be serious.” your voice was low, your heartbeat quickened and you felt your hands grow cold. Anger and confusion masked your consciousness. 
“I’m waiting.” he sang, his shrill voice sending shivers down your spine. He was joking, right? No way was he was actually expecting you to do it. Right?  He did not say another word instead pulled his feet off the table and slammed them to the floor. He spread his legs and patted his right thigh, looking directly at you with a smile, 
“you’re joking.” you commented. Shigaraki stopped smiling, his head lowered, bangs falling over his eyes; you could not see the face he was making. He clicked his tongue and the ‘tch’ sound resonating in the room, “You think I’m joking?” he asked, his voice now filled with annoyance. You did not answer; you did not what to say. You were beginning to think he was not messing with you, and that he actually wanted you to perform that horrendous act. 
His head turned back to you, his eyes spiraled into angry slits, vermilion orbs gleaming under the well-lit room displaying grim intentions. You knew he was serious. 
You took a deep breath, you knew the price of your dreams was high; the sacrifices you had to make: colossal. But right now, you were given a chance to obtain power- grow stronger to get a step closer to your goal but at what cost? If you, right now, gave yourself up to this notorious villain, what would you lose? Dignity? Pride? You had lost all of that the second you had entered the room. 
Nothing was left to lose. From all the horrendous things he coils have asked you to do, you should be glad all he wanted was some pussy.
You swallowed nervously as you got up from the chair moving towards him in brief, calculated steps. You stood in front of him, his knee at level with your crotch; he looks up at you and smirks. His knee jerks forward, pushing through your thighs and grinding up against your clothed cunt. You gasp in surprise, almost walking away from him. Your fists clench by your side and try to surpass any sounds from passing; the movement of your panties rubbing on your clit sends jolts of pleasure throughout your body. You bite your lower lip, glaring down at him as he continues to aggressively grind his knee on your cunt, your mouth falling agape as the sensations get too overwhelming and your climax starts building. A whine falls from your lips when it stops. Shigaraki abruptly withdraws his knee from your thighs, a wet spot forming on the expensive fabric of his pants. He looks at you and smirks, 
“Hero Slut.” he comments, making your blood boil, you try to retort but his fingers inch towards your hips, fingers pulling at the waistband of your jeans. 
“Take it off.” you hesitate for a moment, “take it off or I’ll dust It.” he threatens, you did not want to walk out the room half naked. You quickly tugged your jeans down, it pooled around your ankles. Shigaraki’s eyes never left your lower body, his eyes stayed glued to your pussy, almost drooling at the sight black and white striped panties. Feeling embarrassed under his predatory gaze, you push your hands forward, covering yourself making Shigaraki frown. He pushes your hands away and replaces them with his own. His fingers rub at your clit through your panties making you writhe in pleasure, you feel yourself get wet, a dark spot starting to form on your panties. Shigaraki glides his finger till your hole and drives them to your hips pulling at the waistband of the fabric and letting it hit your skin with a snap, you gasp. “You like that?” he asks, smirking and repeating the action, “Take this off too.” he finishes. 
He leans back in his seat spreading his legs while he watches you strip out of your panties, his eyes a shade darker clouded with lust. 
“You look better now.” his voice is low and condescending as he pulls you down to straddle his lap. His hands carefully moving up and down your torso, under your shirt, fingers touching the underside of your bra. He guides one of his hands to your hip, and claps around it pressing hard enough for a flash of pain to spark along the bone as he keeps you firmly pinned on his thigh. Gripping one of your thighs firmly, he restrains you from pressing them together. He runs a palm along the inside of your thighs in fascination, you feel yourself get worked up embarrassingly fast, “Look at you,” he barks, a crazed smile blooming on his face. 
“You’re all neglected. How often do you loosen up, whore?” His slender fingers trail downwards to your cunt, he runs a slender finger painfully slowly over your folds, buries it inside your hole moving it around and curling the digit inside you before withdrawing. His eyes scan your face as his thumb strokes down on your clit. Your eyes shut close as you bit your lower lip- trying your best to surpass moans which might further entice him. Your body jerks up with need as you gasp out, your hands balling into fists, choked mewls flow from the back of your throat, “I’m gonna fuck you stupid.” he growls 
“N-no.” 
Shigaraki chooses to ignore you as his hand grips the back of your head, pulling you closer towards him before pushing his lips against yours’ while the other hand reaches behind you, wandering across your ass, grabbing a firm hold of the soft flesh. He pulls away from the kiss and both you regain your breath, taking in as much as you can. Shigaraki leans in, you think he’s going to kiss you but instead, his lips hover over your ear. You feel his warm breath tickling your ear as he whispers in a raspy, broken voice. 
“If you want this power so bad,—" your breath hitched as he pushes another finger in your small cunt, “—grind that worthless cunt on my thigh.” 
You look down at him with half-lidded eyes zooming on his cock straining through his pants. He catches you staring. His eyes light up with amusement, “You want that too, huh? You’re just a cock hungry whore after all. Its fine, you all are,” He pulls his fingers out of your dripping hole and presses them against your lips. 
“Open up,” he commands. You hesitate for a moment but eventually, you obey. You open your mouth, only slightly yet he aggressively shoves his middle and pointer finger into your mouth. “I don’t wanna feel any teeth.” you pucker your lips around his finger, sucking his digits into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around his fingers, tasting yourself around him. Shigaraki sighs, “Laughable isn’t it?” he begins, “Do your Hero friends know how much of a pathetic slut you are? I bet they’d love you see you like: half-naked, sitting on Japan’s most wanted criminals lap, begging to be fucked?” He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, a ‘pop’ sound reverberating in the room. He pats your thigh, “Come on. If you please me good enough I might even give you my dick.” 
The realization hits you. Shigaraki wasn’t doing this entirely for his pleasure. He just wants to humiliate you, see you cry, call you names- anything to make you leave this place broken. A fair price.
A smug smirk reaches his face yet again as he watches you shift around his lap, straddling his left thigh. You put your arms cautiously around his shoulders for support, grounding your sensitive bundle of nerves down against his thigh, exhaling as the muscle rubbed against your clit in the best possible way. A tight coil forms in your lower abdomen as you frantically grind down, pleasurable sensations fogging your mind. His hands are still on your hips as you roll your hips in brisk circles against his thigh as you chase your climax, your mouth falls open at the sharp pleasure shooting through your body as you grind down faster, your mind grows hazy. Thoughts jumbled- and non-existent, only focusing on the rocking of your hips back and forth against his thigh. He occasionally flexes the muscle to intensify the feeling of your approaching orgasm, you’ve barely even had any stimulation and you’re already so close. You tug on your lower lip between your teeth, eyes skewered shut as you feel your orgasm building up, seconds away from erupting, and washing over your entire body. “Is the whore close?” Shigaraki speaks, “Looks like you I didn’t even have to fuck you stupid. You’re humping my leg like a bitch in heat. You’re already stupid. This is the real you. You just pretend- act as a functional member of this rotten society but deep down, you’re just a slut begging for a big cock to stuff her holes. Am I right?”  
“Shigaraki Tomura. Fuck you.” you manage to call out in between your moans. 
A blush creeps onto his face and his cock strains in his pants, the print now louder, and his cock begging to be freed. One of his hands leaves your hips and starts palming his cock through the fabric, he lets out a breathy moan as he examines your face: twisted in pleasure yet the look of hate and disgust still linger. Your displease from this entire scenario riles him up, what a disgusting man he is. 
He shifts his gaze from your face to your tits bouncing along the rhythm every thrust ; his hands roam underneath your shirt stroking your soft stomach and move to grope your tits through your bra. He kneads your breast through your bra before capturing it with all five of his fingers and changing it into specks of dust. Your shirt receives the same treatment and you whine. You sit there naked, grinding on his thigh while he is still dressed, calm and collected save for the bright pink blush on his cheeks. Sweat drips down from your forehead and a pink hue rests on your cheek. You look like a mess. 
“You look pathetic right now, you know?” he speaks. You know, you can imagine and you hate it very much. 
A moan escapes his lips; breathing heavily into your ear- he leaves tainted comments. Groaning occasionally as his lips find its way to kiss and suck bruises at your neckline, sinking his teeth and biting down, nipping on your skin leaving marks on your smooth skin all the while his hands violate your breast, greedily groping and kneading the sensitive mounds, rolling your nipples between his fingers, and harshly tweaking and tugging at them- your eyes roll back into the back of your skull, relishing in the pain.
His cock was straining in his pants; you could feel it poking against your thigh. He moves a hand to hastily unbutton and unzip the confinements of his pants, his dick hard against the fabric of his boxers. A wet stop forming at the tip.
He doesn't hesitate to shove his hands into his boxers, groaning and bucking his hips into his hand as he pulls his cock out. His cock springs upwards. It stands tall and hard yearning with need. Pre-cum spills out his leaking tip, red and angry,demanding relief. You stare at it, marveling the size of his girthy cock. You can tell by looking- he’s too big. It was going to be a tight fit. 
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare?” 
“It’s too big.” 
“So?” he asks, annoyance filling his voice as he feels himself get more riled up, “More prep-” you’re still grinding your pussy on his thigh, you try telling him how much you needed him to stretch you out before burying his ridiculously big cock in your tiny, pathetic, little cunt.  “Uh h pleaseee……....It will hurt otherwise.” His ears perk up at your shameless little confession. “It will hurt?” The obscene smile made its way back to his face and you regretted saying so. 
“It better hurt.” 
Shigaraki stands up to his full height, towering over you. You stumble and your hips hit the table behind you. You seriously looked like nothing compared to him. His shoulders broader and rigid, his arms buff and robust. Any hopes you even had in defeating him vanishes away into the air as he turns you around and bends you over the table. 
Papers scatter and fall to the ground, your breasts press against the cold wood and he captures both your hands holding them behind your back in one hand. His other smack your ass making you squirm, “Consider yourself lucky.” he groans, his cock lining up with your cunt, “I don’t fuck every common whore I see.”  His words sting and he pushes past your little hole, tearing it up, tears start to prick at the corner of your eyes. You sniff, “It hurts.” Shigaraki ignores you, lost in the way your small pussy gobbles up his fat cock inch by inch. “Shut up. It'll get better soon enough.” he speaks when he gets annoyed by your little grunts of discomfort. He doesn’t give you time to adjust as he bottoms out, stretching your pussy open. “There. It’s all in,” he spanks your ass making you wail out. 
The stretch burns but you soon feel yourself get wetter adjusting to his size. He starts thrusting his cock into you, using your pussy as his personal cocksleeve. He’s mean with it. He goes rough and fast, pushing his cock all the way till your hilt until his tip kisses your cervix. He laughs at how pathetically you whine, you plead for him to slow down but he doesn’t listen. He pulls you up to his chest by your hair, biting aggressively on your neck, whispering perverted remarks in your ear. He plays with you tits, rolling, pinching and tugging on your nipples. His hands are all over you, except where you need it the most- your clit. The hardened nub begs for attention, burning in need to be touched and played with yet he pays no mind to it choosing to watch you suffer in agony instead. 
“Pheweaze.” you beg, your tongue lolling out of your mouth. He catches the pink flesh between his fingers, petting it making it impossible for you to talk. “What’s that? What did you say? I couldn’t catch it.” He teases, pretending he doesn’t know what you need. He finally pulls his finger out of your mouth, still thrusting his cock into your cunt, “Pheleaseeee e touch my clliit. I need it.”  Finally, you manage to say a complete sentence. You embrace yourself in hopes of Shigaraki finally touching you but instead he chuckles, “Is that so? Is that what you need? I thought you wanted a quirk?” You cry out in frustration. Shigaraki laughs, his shrill laugh masking the lewd sounds of skin slapping against each other. He thinks for a while, looking at you de-flowered, broken to the point where you couldn’t even form sentences properly, he smirks to himself. He’s won.
His fingers snake down to your clit rubbing it avidly. You sigh as you finally feel proper stimulation. Soon enough your loud moans of pleasure fill the empty room and you feel yourself tighten around Shigaraki, “I feel that, your slutty little cunt is squeezing me. You are close, aren’t you?” 
Your moans quickly turn into pants as you let out a silent scream while you cream around Shgaraki’s cock, “You came, bitch?” he asks but you just whimper, your body still writhing with the intensity of the orgasm, “Ugh. Hero Slut.” His thrust gets sloppier, you can feel he’s close by the way his cock twitches inside of you. Next you know- you feel- is hot spurts of cum shooting inside of you, painting your insides white. 
You plop down on the table beneath you, your body exhausted. He pulls out of you and you quickly turn your head back to him, “The quirk..” you meekly ask. “Messy little slut,” he murmurs, ignoring you. “Makes me wanna mess you up even more.”
“Tomura Shigaraki. The quirk.” 
He hummed. “So you plan to go back and pretend you are something more than a worthless slut?-” 
“Tomura. The fucking Quirk.” you weren’t in the mood for any of his shit now, “Jeez fine. If you want the quirk so bad, here, have it. Clean it up well.” He’s motioning to his half-erect cock covered with his cum and your juices. “What the fuck.” You ask, getting up standing to your full height. Even though you were much shorter to him ( and very much naked ) you still wanted to show him that you could put up a fight. 
“I give the quirks. If you want it, you’ll need to ingest my DNA. And also, didn’t I say I’m gonna come on your pretty face?” Your eyes dart up to focus on Shigaraki's face – and shame washes over you as you witness his sinister look. He pushes you down on his knees and you come in level with his cock. 
 “Fuck you,” you stutter out, still trying to seem like you have any power, like you’re the one in charge.
He laughs, “Oh, I just did, sweetheart.”
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makeste · 4 years
Text
BnHA Chapter 289: Looks Like the Gang’s All Here
Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “you guys don’t really need to know what’s gonna happen to Deku and Shouto right now” and cut away to Toga and Ochako before anyone could get a word in. Skeptic utilized the power of Freak Shounen Coincidence to magically zero in on Ochako and Tsuyu amongst the fleeing crowd. Toga was all “IS THAT OCHAKO” and immediately leaped down to fight them, ignoring Spinner’s heartfelt speeches about Villain Found Family because fight now, hug later!! Down in the streets of some unidentified crumbling city, Ochako was approached by a sweet old lady and was all “I better help this sweet old lady who is definitely not leading me into a trap”, which unfortunately turned out to be poor decision-making on her part. Anyway so now she and Toga are going to throw down. AND ALSO, P.S., BEST JEANIST IS STILL ALIVE, and that doesn’t really have anything to do with anything right now, but BY GOLLY I JUST HAD TO SHOUT IT FROM THE ROOFTOPS.
Today on BnHA: Iida and Hadou are all “is it our turn yet”, and Horikoshi is all “yes”, and so the two of them finally burst onto the scene and are all “hello Shouto, Gigantomachia is on his way, btw do you need help” and so they all get ready to fight Tomura together. Meanwhile in Unnamed Ochako And Toga Fight Town, Toga is all “what’s up Ochako, oh is this the All Might doll Deku gave you, I guess you must like Deku as well, just like me, we truly are the same, btw I can use other people’s quirks now” before she vanishes in a flurry of knives and ambiguity, as mysteriously as she came. So that’s a thing that happened. The chapter ends with Gigantomachia and the League STOMPIN’ ONTO THE SCENE, JUST IN TIME FOR ENDEAVOR TO WAKE UP AND BE ALL “OHHHHH SHIT.” YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT, “OH SHIT.” Finally the pieces are in place for Dabi to reveal his true identity to Hadou and Iida, JUST LIKE WE ALL EXPECTED.
before I start, thank you so much to everyone who sent birthday messages on Wednesday!! I had a good day; my quarantine impulse purchase guitar that I ordered months ago but had been backordered finally arrived, and so now I can do something productive with my time as I continue to while away these months in isolation! not to say that capslocking over fictional characters and their shounen escapades doesn’t also count as being productive lmao. anyways, my fingers hurt so typing is kind of a bitch right now, but I’m having fun still. IF KAMINARI CAN DO IT THEN SO CAN I
anyway so let’s see what mishaps my various catastrophe-prone children are getting up to this week
okay there are several things happening in this panel which I want to comment on
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IIDA!!!
HADOU!!!
“some time after” jesus fucking christ though, how long have Deku and the rest actually been fighting?? like it’s absolutely absurd to imagine that they’ve been managing to hold off Tomura for more than a few minutes, and yet everything we’ve seen these last couple of chapters suggests that this is indeed the case. which is just pure insanity tbh. excuse me sir, but I have an emotionally maturing son, a homewrecking grandpa, and a sleep-deprived one-legged platonic husband who are all in DIRE NEED of medical attention just FYI
lastly, I direct your attention to these two cool cats in the background who are both riding on hover surfboards. living it up like it’s Back to the Future. why are there two of them. do they both just happen to have the exact same quirk. what are the odds. ARE THEY TWINS. I want to know everything about them dammit
anyway so Hadou is asking Iida why he’s tagging along, because unlike the others, he can’t fly and is thus vulnerable to Tomura’s attacks and such
well Hadou I’ll have you know that it his DUTY AS THE CLASS PRESIDENT to tag along and THAT’S WHY
oh shit you guys IIDA SAID “FUCK THE LAW”
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“plus Bakugou-kun, whom I am not particularly close to, but nonetheless hold nothing personal against!” well uh, kind of a weird distinction to make there bro, but okay. listen everyone, it’s a tense situation; if Iida feels the need to clarify the ins and outs of his interpersonal relationships with each of the people he’s rescuing then please just respect that okay
anyways though have I mentioned how much I fucking love Iida Tenya though you guys. feels like I haven’t mentioned that enough. I LOVE HIM. there
FINALLY
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AFTER THREE WHOLE WEEKS WE FINALLY CUT BACK. OH MY GOD. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW LONG OF A TIME THAT IS TO BE HOLDING YOUR BREATH. [EXHALES]
is it bad that my immediate reaction to this page was A LOT OF LAUGHING, though. fkldlksh this entire situation is SO ABJECTLY TERRIBLE that if I were Shouto I would almost be fighting the urge to look around for a hidden camera at this point. ASHTON KUTCHER WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING HERE. OH THANK GOD, IT WAS ALL JUST A PRANK
anyway so uh. heh. how screwed are we at this point, exactly. oh and also, whose speech bubbles are these. who the fuck would look at this situation and these bleeding children and say “HA!” what kind of monster. just ignore that paragraph right before this one please
OH SHIT, OH SHIT, OH SHIT
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TOMURA I CANNOT BELIEVE I’M SAYING THIS, BUT PLEASE LISTEN TO AFO FOR ONCE AND JUST LEAVE
pretty please. we kind of have a situation here. not that I wouldn’t love to see what this icy flamey boi could do if push came to shove, but I also have had just about enough of watching children get maimed for today though
OH SHIT
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THE TIMING OF THIS MAKES ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE AT ALL BUT I DO NOT CARE!! THE CAVALRY HAS ARRIVED THANK GOD
“WHAT UP GUYS, WE BROUGHT YOU SOME TERRIBLE NEWS” FKLSHLKHLK
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WELL GEE IIDA THANKS SO FUCKING MUCH!!
lmaoooo a wild Lida has been spotted what the fuck is this translation though
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I don’t know which is better, the “Lida” (DO YOU EVEN READ THE SERIES BRO), or the “CHRIST” gkfhkg. CLASSIC LIDA
OH SNAP HADOU
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sobbing at Manual cradling the still-warm corpse of Gran Torino like a tiny baby khlk;h. BUT ANYWAYS HADOU SAW HER TEACHER ALL BLOODIED UP AND IS READY TO THROW DOWN, YESSSSS, THE MY LADIES ACADEMIA ARC CONTINUES
(ETA: listen you guys, there were many things at the end of this chapter that brought me joy, but perhaps none more than the inclusion of Hadou in the final two page spread looking all serious alongside the Todorokis, as if she has any fucking clue at all wtf is going on slfkhlkhgghsl. what I wouldn’t give to see her and Deku and Iida all making frantic bewildered eye contact at each other throughout the next chapter lmao.)
GOD FUCKING DAMMIT DEKU
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ARE YOU PROPPING YOURSELF UP WITH YOUR ARM THAT’S IN SPLINTERS, I CAN’T EVEN BELIEVE YOU RIGHT NOW. SOMEONE PLEASE SLAP SOME SENSE INTO THIS CHILD. SIT YOUR ASS DOWN
LMAO TODO’S READY TO TAKE AFOMURA ON. THE SHARED HERO BRAINCELL HAS ALREADY EXPIRED. FUCK IT LET’S DO THIS
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“true, I already watched him murder my dad, my boyfriend, my other boyfriend, my teacher, and dozens of other people, but gosh darn it, I just feel like the fifteenth time’s the charm you guys.” shit, I ain’t even mad. who’s up for yet another episode of Todoroki Shouto Attempts to Murder a Bitch
-- “TIME TO CUT AWAY!!” laughs Horikoshi as he gleefully dodges out of reach before I can punch him, that SON OF A --
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goddammit. you’re just lucky that I’m invested in the girl power fight too
YESSSSS OCHAKO
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DON’T BE SORRY FOR KICKING ASS! NEVER BE SORRY FOR KICKING ASS
damn, looks like she managed to touch Toga’s shirt but not Toga herself. both of them are so fast
now Toga is monologuing from the shadows
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we’ve all been there, Toga. sometimes you see someone you really like and it’s just like, ahhhhhh gotta kill them am I right
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lol I love Toga so much you guys, but I’m also kind of wincing in anticipation of whatever essays are gonna materialize out of the fandom this week explaining how hero society has failed her utterly and she is just a victim here. CAN YOU NOT SEE HOW SHE JUST WANTED FREEDOM TO BE HERSELF AND MURDER A BUNCH OF PEOPLE flhkklhl
OH SNAP SHE WENT AND TOLD HER THE THING!!
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and it was fucking awesome and scary as shit, Ochako. like damn, still sends a chill up my spine just thinking about it
anyway so now Toga is continuing to explain that she can use the quirks of whoever she transforms into
and Ochako is kind of freaking out, which I don’t blame her for, since it’s probably really upsetting to hear that your stolen blood and quirk were used to murder a bunch of people. shit
so now she’s all “WTF WHY WOULD YOU EVEN TELL ME THAT”
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??? was this somehow the wrong answer?
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for fuck’s sake. Toga you literally came down here to ask her if she would be willing to kill you, and here she is telling you “I would never be happy about killing someone, that’s fucked up”, and you’re all “......”
like come on though, what else do you want her to say?? and why does Ochako look so shocked now
OOP
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LMAO
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THEIR FACES DKSLHFKG. TOGA NO THAT IS MEAN. and jesus christ Ochako it’s just a toy. I know it has Sentimental Value and shit but is this really the thing to be getting distracted about right now
FOR FUCK’S SAKE
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JIN-KUN WHOM OCHAKO HAS NEVER FUCKING MET?? THAT JIN-KUN??!
OM NOM NOM
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this entire confrontation makes absolutely zero sense to me you guys. just. Horikoshi was all, “this is the kind of stuff girls talk about when they’re battling to the death, right?” just, are you okay my dude
anyway so Toga has somehow deduced that Ochako got the doll from Deku, which means that she and Ochako are exactly alike in every way, and this is somehow an important plot point, and now they’re finally getting back to the fight lulz
OH SHIT
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OCHAKO BOUT TO SLAP THE SHIT OUT TOGA WITH THIS BOOKCASE ON A STRING AND THIS LOUIS BAG OH FUCK
so now Toga’s all excited and she’s all “THERE’S SOMETHING I OUGHT TO TELL YOU, I’M NOT LEFT HANDED EITHER” oh snap
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fuck, it almost feels like she’s trying to warn her. Ochako idk maybe you should run shit I do not like this ( ゚д゚)
but of course she is not running, and she’s all “I’ll have you take responsibility for your actions”
HEY NOW
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WHAT IS FUCKING HAPPENING, DID TOGA JUST FUCKING MURDER TSUYU, WHAT THE FUCK. I AM TERRIFIED, I DON’T WANT TO SCROLL DOWN, SHE THREW LIKE FOURTEEN KNIVES INTO THE DARKNESS, WHAT THE FUCK
OH
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IT’S POSSIBLE THAT I MAY HAVE OVERREACTED
so did Toga just Swip a bunch of knives for no reason and then abscond, lol what. CAN ANYBODY PLEASE EXPLAIN TO ME WHAT THE PURPOSE OF THAT ENTIRE SCENE WAS. ASIDE FROM GETTING TO SEE OCHAKO TRY AND YEET A BOOKCASE AT SOMEONE
fuck, she was crying??
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DID MY GIRL TOGA JUST KILL AN OLD WOMAN, NAKEDLY LURE OCHAKO INTO A BUILDING, ANTAGONIZE HER INTO SAYING “I’LL MAKE YOU TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR KILLING A BUNCH OF PEOPLE JUST BECAUSE YOU FELT LIKE IT”, STEAL HER DOLL, GIVE HER DOLL BACK, TELL HER “OH SO YOU LIKE DEKU TOO HUH? BTW I CAN USE OTHER PEOPLE’S QUIRKS”, AND THEN RUN AWAY CRYING??? BRUH
-- OH SHIT, OH FUCK
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[SIRENS BLARING WILDLY] [AUDIENCE LEAPING OUT OF THEIR SEATS] [T-SHIRT CANNONS BOOMING IN THE AIR] [VIKING WAR HORN SOUNDS IN THE DISTANCE] FUUUUUUUUUCK
well never the fuck mind about Ochako and Toga and WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT ALL WAS SUPPOSED TO BE, I guess, BECAUSE!! MACHIA MADNESS HAS ARRIVED. SPEARS SHALL BE SHAKEN!!! SHIELDS SHALL BE SPLINTERED!!
AND LOOK WHO WOKE UP FROM HIS NUMBER ONE HERO BEAUTY NAP RIGHT ON CUE, TOO!!! ATTENTION ALL PASSENGERS... IIIIIIIIIIT’S TOUYA TIMEEEEEEEE
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madswritingvoid · 3 years
Text
Say You’re Sorry
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Pairing: Max Phillips x f!reader
Words: 3k (oops haha)
Warnings: SMUT. 18+ only. Oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, p in v sex, fingering, swearing, slight choking, first time writing smut should probably be a warning itself, sexism, Max Phillips is a warning probably.
You knew it was a bad idea. Well, actually, no you didn’t. Not fully. The voice in your head was just screaming at you to stop - there were other ways to get his attention. Other ways to make Max feel bad for what he did during the Synersavers presentation that didn’t require you stooping this low. Fuck it, you figured, if he can go around and do whatever he wants to get his way then so can I.
Fixing your hair and outfit in the mirror one last time, you went back into the office looking for the desk you usually avoid like the plague. Max Phillips, fuck you.
Earlier That Day
“So you see, Mr. Jacobson, our third quarter projections have us coming in on top by two million dollars and the fourth quarter is looking even better. I mean really champ, if these numbers were anymore amazing they’d be as hot as your associate there in that fetching skirt,” Max winks at the woman taking meeting minutes for your potential new client, causing her skin to blotch, “fucking unreal. Pardon my French,” he finishes, earning a big laugh from the CEO of Synersavers, the new bullshit placebo pill that was supposed to alter the brain’s natural neural pathways to promote synergy. You weren’t sure what dreams synergy was helping pathetic humans to achieve, but it meant a bonus if they signed on so you made sure that PowerPoint presentation was the best slides of your career.
You scoff, worried that if you roll your eyes they’ll get stuck. You know Max Phillips was quite the charmer, you knew better than anyone in the office. This past year saw him go from being just your hot vampire boss you had a crush on, to your hot vampire boss that was now your boyfriend. 
While you never made an official statement to your coworkers, you quietly signed the papers Amanda in HR needed signed and let the sound of you screaming Max’s name in his office while he was balls deep inside you let the rest of your coworkers know of your relationship. Overall, Max was a great boyfriend. Better than expected even - attentive, caring, protective to a fault, all while still being that loveable (?) piece of shit frat boy extraordinaire he had been at the beginning. 
You knew he still had to lay on the charm to close sales from time to time, never actually violating your relationship in any way, but after the fight you had this morning you didn’t think flirting with the only person in the meeting who did not actually control whether or not this partnership was going to happen right in front of you was the best move.
“Mr. Phillips,” Jacobson says, once again only acknowledging Max and completely ignoring you as he had been for the entire presentation, “you got quite the silver tongue. But I like that about ya, I think you get what our product is all about and I wanna make this partnership work. I’m surprised your presentation is as good as it was, because if you’ll pardon my French, if my secretary looked as delicious as yours does I’d be too busy fucking her left, right, and centre to even think about the fourth quarter anything!” He laughs and claps Max on the shoulder and you tense up, sure that Max is going to say something. Not even because he’s your boyfriend, but because he landed the sale and doesn’t have to be as sleazy as this dickhead is. 
“See that’s where you’re wrong Jacobson, it’s almost like I’m working double to avoid her. Just doesn’t get the mojo flowing, y’know? Maybe we should switch, what do you think sweetheart?” He looks over at the still flustered secretary, “Come on and work for me and we’ll work on some new ways of making synergy happen,” he wags his eyebrows and you’re surprised this poor woman hasn’t slid right off her seat. You’re stunned. Even as Mr. Jacobson laughs and brings a laughing Max into some sort of capitalist bro hug, you can’t bring yourself to move. It isn’t until you hear the squeak of the wheels from the chair Mr. Jacobson’s secretary was sitting against the shitty meeting room carpet that you snap back to the present and shut everything down. By the time you finish everyone is long gone, leaving you to stew in your rage.
A hesitant knock on the meeting room door makes you jump as you’re met with a sheepish looking Evan in the doorway. You were never a big fan of Evan when you started, kind of thought he was a wimp but he was nice enough. After getting with Max and learning their shared history, you couldn’t stand Evan, but were able to be far more professional when needed until Max.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was still in here after Max and the Synersavers people left,” he shrugged. “What the fuck do you mean Max left with them?” You asked through clenched teeth. Scratching the back of his neck nervously, Evan took a deep breath before telling you, “yeah, um. They left for a late liquid lunch from what it sounded like, Max said you would be too busy learning how to make a paper clip bracelet to join them… Sorry, he’s such an asshole. You don’t deserve that, especially not from that bastard,” He couldn’t meet your eyes. Even though he still tried to tell you to leave Max every single day, you appreciate him being there this time.
There were many things you could be mean to Evan for, but deep down you knew he didn’t deserve the wrath of your anger this time. 
Later That Afternoon
After taking the elevator up to the office to mentally cleanse his mind from that mindless lunch with that absolute creep Jacobson, Max was trying to come up with the best apology for you. He knew he didn’t have to be so forward flirting with that secretary, what the fuck was her name anyways, in order to win the sexist CEO over. But he was feeling petty after your fight while you were getting ready for work he figured it wouldn’t hurt to remind you that many other women find him quite the catch.
“You’re lying! You have to be lying!! There’s no way that happened oh my god,” Max stops dead in his tracks as he hears your giggles from inside the office. “It is! I totally saw Tim practising the dance moves the day after that Kelly Clarkson concert in the men’s washroom. I didn’t even know she had dancers, but from what I saw it really must have been a hell of a show,” Evan says as you throw your head back and let out another over-the-top cackle. You’re sitting on top of Evan’s desk, resting your hand on his shoulder as he sits in between your open legs, clearly enjoying the attention. 
You’re hamming it up, he knows that, he knows that’s not what your real laugh sounds like - the laugh he gets to hear when he really does something that you like. He knows you don’t mean it but he’s immediately flooded with anger and guilt. He obviously didn’t realize how much the day had taken a toll on you and now you must be really mad if you’re going to Evan to get back at him.
“Oh my god Evan that’s too funny,” you giggle and place a hand on his shoulder, “you just made my day! I won’t tell Tim anything, it’ll be our little secret,” you wink. Evan’s blush deepens at the touch, maybe you weren’t so bad after all and if Max (and Amanda at this point) didn’t look out he would maybe ask you out for a drink sometime soon. Bring you back to the land of the living.
Deciding he’s absolutely had enough, Max quietly comes up behind Evan and slaps both hands on his shoulders after seeing you move yours back to your lap, causing him to freeze and let out a little squeak. “Slugger, I’m sure whatever’s going on here is just too funny, but didn’t I ask you to finish up that presentation for tomorrow’s meeting with NuevaWeight?” he pouts, “I really thought you were taking this job seriously buddy, but maybe I should just get Andrew to take over…”
“N-no Max, sorry. Yeah the presentation is almost done, it’ll be ready before the end of the day,” Evan stammers. Max finally meets your eyes and smirks, “and you can meet me in my office. Apparently you think you can stop doing your job and distracting my employees.”
You can’t even speak, your jaw set and eyes burning from the absolute rage you feel right now. Yeah you’ll meet him in his office, but it won’t be so he can lecture you about whatever bullshit he’s already thought of. “Of course Mr. Phillips, meet you there,” you manage to snap back, calmly making your way to his office. Anyone walking by you immediately gets out of your way, your anger coming off in waves making your undead coworkers shiver.
Clapping Evan on the shoulder one more time, Max saunters over to his office, ready to make you beg for his forgiveness after that little stunt. As soon as he opens his office door he realizes that won’t be happening.
You’re sitting in his chair, legs propped up on his desk in a way that makes your skirt ride up and expose more thigh than what HR might deem office appropriate. “Ah, Mr. Phillips, so nice of you to make it,” you smirk. “Sweets, I think there must be some sort of misunderstandi-'' you cut him off with a dark look and stand up. Walking up to him you close his office door and push him against it, “No champ,” you sneer, “I think you’re confused here. I’m not the one who decided to be a very, very bad boy by flirting with someone else and insulting me in front of new clients.” Chest to chest, your hand slithers up to grab Max’s throat. Even though he is a vampire who could toss you around like a ragdoll, you know he’s letting you be in control. He likes it.
“While you were out entertaining I’ve been thinking about what I could do to make you really sorry, baby. You were already on thin ice from this morning, but now you’re drowning,” you squeeze a little harder on his throat making his eyes roll back. “What are you gonna do? I’m so sorry,” he whispers. You take a moment, just looking into those eyes you love so much, before answering.
“Maybe I’ll sit on your cock. Let you fill my pussy up but not let you cum, because only good boys get to come, you know that Maxie. Maybe I’ll just use you like my own walking, talking dildo. If I’m so replaceable you won’t mind not getting to fill me up? Right?” You smirk again as he whines, his hands clenching because all he wants to do is make you feel good now. 
“You wanna run that mouth, Phillips? You wanna make everything think you’re so fucking special when I know you’re really just a scared little vamp, huh?” You say with a pout. Grabbing his hair, you force his head up so you can look right into his eyes that are now almost completely black from lust. “Come on big shot, if you wanna be a big boy then you gotta show me that mouth can do something other than just spew bullshit, slugger.” 
That’s all the permission he needs. He hoists you up in his arms and thanks to vampire speed you’re now sat on his leather couch, skirt up around your waist, underwear ripped clean off, fully exposed to his hungry eyes. “Baby, I’m so sorry,” he pouts, “let me make you feel good. I just want you-” You’ve heard enough, pushing him down so his mouth finally reaches your core. Moaning at finally tasting you, Max wastes no time taking your clit and sucking hard, already teasing your entrance with one of his long fingers. 
“Y-Yes Max, fuck! Be a good boy and make me cum just like this,” you moan and clench around the finger inside of you, knowing you’re absolutely dripping onto the couch underneath you. He adds a second, then a third, making you arch your back until you’re almost sitting up from how good he’s fucking you with his hands. His mouth doesn’t stop, sucking and licking, spelling out his apologies against your body. Knowing you’re close, he starts focusing on that spot inside of you that drives you wild. 
“Oh! Oh, Maxie yes. Such a g-good boy,” you pant, meeting his hand thrust for thrust trying to reach your high, “make me feel so good please please please baby I’m right there, I-” you can’t finish that sentence as your vision goes white and all you can do is let out a strangled moan that sounds like his name.
Once your legs start shaking you pull both of you up, undoing his belt and pushing him onto the couch so you can straddle his waist. You wrap a hand around his neck and start nipping at the area, rocking your soaked pussy along his aching cock that was now free from the confines of his dress pants a few times before sinking down on him. A wicked grin stretches across your face as his moans get louder. He chokes when he feels you gush around him, not expecting you to come again so soon but you were still sensitive from his mouth, the hair above his cock rubbing deliciously against your clit, but you wanted more still. 
Picking up the pace, you squeeze around his throat again and start taunting him, “You gonna replace me baby? Yeah? You gonna find a pussy that takes you this good? Be my guest. Go right now and find something better, or show me how goddamn sorry you are.”
Granting him permission to take over, Max flips you on your back, making sure your head is supported by one of the couch cushions. He immediately wraps your legs around his waist, angling one leg to let him sink even deep inside of you, your moans mixing together as you both revel in the feeling of him finally being inside of you. Wanting to prove himself he wastes no time pulling out just to start slamming back into you. 
You moan and clench around him, making him hiss and he doesn’t let up. Watching him disappear inside of you over and over again, he starts babbling his apologies. “N-Never baby. Could never replace you. Never gonna find a pu-pussy this fucking good. Look at you, so perfect, so so perfect taking my cock like that. I’m sorry. You’re so good. I don’t deserve it, it’s- fuck it’s so fucking good. Best pussy of all time,” he moans as you clamp down on him, your third orgasm ripping through you. 
“Yes - yes Max, that’s fucking r-right. I’m the best pussy you’ll ever have,” you moan again from being so full. You know he’s sorry so you decide to let him finish after all. Taking your hands off his shoulders, you start tangling your fingers in his hair and bring his face close to your so your lips are almost touching, “you did so good Maxie,” you coo, “you cock made me feel so fucking good I know you’re sorry now.” He shudders at your words but keeps his steady pace, trying to make you cum again, still holding back his own impending orgasm. “Thank you baby, ‘m so so sorry, I love you and I just wanna be good for you-” “shhh shhh Maxie, I know I know. You did good baby, now show me how good you are and cum inside of me.” 
That’s all he needs. 
Something between a groan and growl comes deep from within Max as he finally lets go, pushing himself as far as he can inside of you as he starts painting your walls. Coming down from his high, he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck as you start peppering him with kisses wherever you can reach, carding your fingers through his hair.
“I’m really sorry baby,” you hear him mumble into your neck, “I love you.” He kisses along your throat and you hum, moving your head to give him more access. “I know Max, I love you too. I forgive you. But try that again and I’ll cut your dick off in front of the whole office,” you laugh.
He chuckles too, continuing to shower you with love. “As much as I want to stay right here forever baby, let’s go home and I can keep showing you how sorry I am,” he suggests, wiggling his eyebrows to earn a giggle from you, “sounds good Maxie, you’re lucky I’m just sooooo forgiving.”
Untangling from each other and making yourselves as presentable as you care to be, you leave the office hand-in-hand, ready to see what the rest of the night has in store.
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kisskeiji · 4 years
Text
2. Goodbye, good times.
Lost & Found.
WARNINGS: language, mentions of alcohol, mentions of cheating.
The walk back home was hard for Hajime. Home, he couldn’t call his place home since you left. It was lonely, he missed seeing you playing around in the kitchen while you danced to your favorite tunes. He missed the way you stayed up late to catch up with your school work,  the mess you made every morning when you were getting ready for school and the kiss you shared before you left. He missed you. 
He missed you and you were gone. But, where? You talked about the exchange offers you received with him, but you declined all those opportunities to stay with him. Could you have taken one of them? ‘Of course she did’  He thought. All the guilt he felt weighed on him everyday, and as if losing you wasn’t enough, his best friend was also ignoring him and wanted nothing to do with him. 
Two days after what happened Iwaizumi’s phone rang while he was at work, it was Oikawa calling.
“Iwa-chan~ Did Y/N break her phone again? My texts won’t reach her.” The brunette said with annoyance in his voice. 
“I don’t know. I can’t reach her either.” he looked down.
“You don’t know? You live with her, Iwa-chan, don’t be silly.” Oikawa laughed. 
“Not anymore, she left.” Iwaizumi busied himself cleaning the dumbbells on the rack before it was opening time. 
“Yeah, and I’m back in Japan. Stop playing Iwa-chan, now what did she do now? She dropped it in the toilet again?” Oikawa was growing frustrated. Why would he joke with something like that? 
“I’m not joking, Oikawa, we broke up.”  
“Why? What happened?” Anyone could feel Oikawa’s distress from Argentina. Iwaizumi sighed.
“She caught me with another girl.” his answer was almost inaudible, but Oikawa heard loud and clear from the other line. The sigh that left his lips after a few seconds was hard to read, it was a mixture of sadness, worry and disappointment. 
“You are unbelievable, Iwaizumi.” Oikawa said “Out of all people, I never thought you were one to be unfaithful nor you could do something so low like cheating on the girl who spent the last four years of her life on you.”
“Do you think I don't know?” 
“I don’t know, do you?” Oikawa spat. 
“Look, Shitty-kawa, I don’t need you to tell me what I already know. I fucked up my relationship with Y/N, but that’s none of your business.” 
“It is my business since my best friend blocked me because she thinks I backed you up on your stupid decisions. Can’t you see? She hates me too. And I’m sure she blocked Matsukawa and Hanamaki too, just ask them. You are right, it’s none of my business, but I got dragged into this mess because of you.” Oikawa screamed from the other side of the line. 
“Well I am your best friend too, I think I need your support rather than you scolding me from the other side of the world as if you were my mom.” Iwaizumi said dropping the rag he was cleaning the equipment with. 
“And you think you deserve any kind of sympathy after what you did?” The former setter asked in disbelief. Iwaizumi’s eyes dropped once again to the floor, there was no answer, he knew he didn’t but still hoped for his best friend to help him out. “Get fucked Iwaizumi, and please don’t ever call me again.”  
Oikawa ended the call and blocked Iwaizumi’s number too. 
That was almost two months ago. He was completely hopeless now. Out of the third years, only Matsukawa and Hanamaki knew about his affair and kept their mouths shut under the promise that Iwaizumi would cut the girl off, he didn’t. Still they made sure he wasn’t drowning on his own thoughts and checked up on him, they were friends after all.
 “What are you doing here?” Iwaizumi asked as he closed the door and took his shoes off.
“We were bored and  we brought dinner but you weren’t home.” Matsukawa explained.
“And there’s no Wi-Fi at the dorms.” the pink haired said without looking away from his laptop.
“Whatever, I’m going to take a shower.”  Iwaizumi walked past them.
“Eat something first.” Matsukawa called.
“Not hungry.” 
Matsukawa and Hanamaki shared a look and sighed.
“Let 's call him.” Hanamaki suggested.
“He is mad at us too.” Matsukawa ran his hand through his hair.
“Yeah, but he hasn’t blocked us yet.”  Sharing another look they agreed on calling Oikawa as soon as Iwaizumi finished showering. 
Ten minutes later, Iwaizumi walked out of his room and went straight to the kitchen, he could hear his friends whispering in the living room. “What are you two up to?” He opened the pantry looking for his protein powder. ’I forgot to buy it again.’ He thought as he stared at the empty jar. You used to get it for him on your way back from work, but not anymore. He could hear his friends bickering on the couch and he knew they were most likely planning something stupid. "What are you two doing?"
“Nothing much, can you come here for a second?” Matsukawa asked. Iwaizumi made his way to the couch where the other two sat, Makki placing his laptop on the coffee table. The screen showed an outgoing video call to Oikawa. 
“Why are you calling him?” He attempted to stand up but Matsukawa pulled him back down. 
“Because we don’t know what to do anymore, and he knows you better than we do.” Matsukawa explained. Before Iwaizumi could say anything else, Oikawa picked up.
“Makki I already told you I don’t want to see your rash! Go get checked or something!” Oikawa whined. The lightning adjusted and soon enough the three men could see him fresh out of the shower, drying his hair with a white towel.
“Shut up! I didn’t call you for that, you idiot.” Hanamaki retorted. 
“Then what? I had morning practice and I’m exhausted, it better be good.”  The former captain walked out of the bathroom and to his bed.
“We need your help.” Matsukawa added.
“Oh you are together, wait, you aren’t with Iwaizumi, are you?” Oikawa asked, Iwaizumi and Matsukawa shared a glance.
“Not right now.” Makki  lied. 
“Then go ahead, I'm listening.” As soon as Oikawa spoke, Hanamaki directed the camera to Iwaizumi and he could only stare awkwardly in the few seconds of silence before Oikawa could say anything.
“Before you hang up, please listen to us.” Matsukawa started. 
“You said you weren’t with him.” Oikawa whined again “I knew you were up to something and I don’t want to be part of it. Goodbye.”
“No!” Both Makki and Mattsun yelled trying to keep Oikawa on the line. 
“Let him go, he clearly doesn’t want to see me.” Iwaizumi said.
“Poor you! It’s what you deserve.” Oikawa scoffed and rolled his eyes while anger was already building up inside Hajime. 
“Really? And you deserve the most annoying manchild on earth award! Maybe if you stopped whining and listened for once in your life you could see there’s two sides of the story.” This time Iwaizumi yelled at his best friend. Hanamaki and Matsukawa remained silent.
“You are right, and thanks to you I can only listen to the cheater’s side, which I’m not interested in, go to hell.” Oikawa spat, he was no longer laying down and his breathing was heavy. 
“No, you go to hell.” 
“Both of you shut up!” Hanamaki intervened “Please just make up, you need each other, and like it or not Hajime needs us right now.”
“He is right, we are all friends but we all know that you two know each other better than anyone else.” It was Matsukawa´s turn to speak “Iwaizumi knows he fucked up and you already ignored him enough. So let’s just calm down and then we can talk, okay?” Iwaizumi and Oikawa looked at each other for a second.
“Fine by me.” 
“You have ten minutes.” Oikawa put his glasses on and propped his phone on his night stand.
 Relief ran through Iwaizumi´s body, his shoulders felt lighter for a moment. He took a deep breath and started telling everything that happened that night, how he met the girl and he kept his relationship with you secret. The ten minute mark was long forgotten, and after he finished Oikawa just sighed and stayed quiet for a moment. 
“You are still a piece of shit.” He stated. 
“I know, and I’m sorry.” 
“I’m not the one who should forgive you, you know that too.” Oikawa pushed his glasses back.
“I went to her sister’s place to talk to her and she was gone.” Hajime ran his hands through his hair repeatedly in frustration. 
“Gone?” Matsukawa questioned.
“Yes, I think she took one of the exchange offers she got last semester, but  I don’t know where she could possibly be.”  Hajime affirmed and looked at Matsukawa, defeat and sadness in his eyes. 
“I think you should get the hint and leave her alone for a while, she’ll come around, my Y/N is not one to be remorseful. Just don’t try to win her back if she does call you again.” Oikawa sighed and laid back. Staring at the ceiling he could only think about you and hope you were okay. 
“I think Oikawa is right, get the closure you need and let her go.” Matsukawa got up and walked to the kitchen. 
“And leave her alone for good.” Oikawa added, still staring at the ceiling.
“I wasn’t planning to win her back, even if I tried, she would say no.” Iwaizumi admitted.
“As she should.” Another remark from Oikawa made Hanamaki laugh.
“Cut it out, would you? I think you’ve slandered Iwaizumi enough.” The pink-haired man patted Iwaizumi’s back trying to comfort him, Hajime smiled lightly.
“And I’m not done yet, wait till I get to you, mister thigh rash.” 
“Feisty.” Matsukawa said and handed a glass of water to Iwaizumi who whispered a ‘thanks’ and took a sip. 
“You can shut up too, you two are just as bad for not telling Y/N or me.”
“In our defense, as soon we found out Hajime promised to cut the girl off.” Hanamaki explained.
“But he didn’t. We feel bad too, Y/N was our friend too.” Mattsun placed his cup on the coffee table. 
“Oi, don’t say it as if she is dead.” Iwaizumi smacked Matsukawa´s head.
“Well, we sure are dead for her. She blocked us too.” Makki lowered his head. 
 “What you guys deserve.” Oikawa yawned and shifted to lay on his side.  “I am really tired so I’m leaving, I’ll call you guys tomorrow.”
After  saying their goodbyes Iwaizumi stared at his best friend.
“Oi, Tooru.” He called and Oikawa just hummed in acknowledgment. “Thank you.” He knew he didn’t need to say anything else. 
“Yeah, yeah, now get some sleep, you look like your soul left your body. Please take care.” It was hard for Oikawa to hide his concern, but with that phrase he ended the call. 
Deep down he was glad you decided to take your time and get away from Tokyo, but he was worried about you too. It was bright outside but he felt tired, it was the guilt also weighing on him, he did nothing wrong, but still he wished he could’ve been by your side and not on the other side of the world. 
A year later…
You were going back home after graduation. It’s been a year since you left Japan to study abroad in England, and it was by far the best decision you could’ve ever made. The year passed quickly, but you travelled and met a lot of people who you considered family. 
It was sad, honestly, as much as you wanted to come back home, it was a painful reminder that you had to confront all the people you left hanging when you went away, still you had no regrets. It was a great year, you graduated and you had a job secured once you returned thanks to your professors who put a good word for you with their acquaintances and friends in Japan. “I can’t believe you have to go already.” your friend Lily whined as she dragged one of your suitcases around the airport. 
“Neither do I, this year went by so fast.” You turned around and looked at her, she was clearly trying to hold her tears back. Truth is, your roommates became your best friends and a part of you wanted to stay in London just to be with them. 
“We’re going to miss you a lot, Y/n.” Emma, your other roommate, said and hugged you from the side. 
“Hey! I am here too. Are you going to miss me?” Kuroo complained “I could use some help too.” 
“Shut up, Tetsuro.” Lily flicked his forehead playfully. 
Kuroo Tetsuro, professional instigator and one of the guys you met through the exchange program you were in. He was also one of Bokuto's best friends, it was a coincidence —definitely not Bokuto’s doing — that you met, but you were glad you did. Kuroo was the closest thing you had from home and a great friend, after all he was taking care of you like Bokuto asked him to. You studied, travelled, cried on his shoulder and had the most fun with him the past year, and you were glad you were coming back home with him. 
“I know it breaks your heart to let me go, Lily.” He said with that shit eating grin that seemed to never leave his face.
“Whatever floats your boat, big boy.” She smiled at him and hugged him. “I am going to miss you and your big mouth too.” 
“Woah, we are getting kinky over here.” He joked before Lily punched him on his side. 
“Idiot.” She muttered. More of your friends came to say goodbye and send you off, after another round of hugs and promises to call and visit you were boarding the flight with Kuroo sitting by your side.
“Finally.” He sighed and laid back on his seat with his hands behind his head. 
“Yeah, finally.” You smiled at him and waited for the plane to take off.
“So, you are working for Bokuto’s team, have you told him about it?” Kuroo asked while he reclined his seat.
“Nope, It’s a surprise. Only Akaashi knows.” You looked through the window. “I can’t believe Bokuto confessed after I left.” 
“Me neither! How am I supposed to be the best man at their wedding if I wasn’t even invited to his confession.” He tapped his fingers on his leg and stared at the buttons above his head.
“They’ve been dating for less than a year and you are already planning the wedding?” You raised an eyebrow. 
“I’m calling it right now, they are getting married three years from here.” 
“Bet?” You asked in a playful manner. 
“Bet. Loser makes a fool out of themself at the reception party.” You shook hands to seal the deal. There were almost fourteen hours left to get home, so you decided to watch a movie and then sleep for a few hours. 
Once you landed at Osaka’s airport, Bokuto and Akaashi were waiting for you at the gate. The volleyball player tackled both of you into a hug and asked a lot of questions, Akaashi just looked at his boyfriend in awe and smiled at you before welcoming you with a hug too. 
“Your sister made sure the moving company left all your boxes in your new apartment and she asked me to give you this.” He said once you let go. You see him fish into his pocket for your new keys”
“Thank you, ‘Kaashi.” You took the keys to your new house. You were excited to move to Osaka and start a new life — again—  you trusted your sister to find you a place and she did an amazing job, she found an apartment less than fifteen minutes away from your workplace. 
“Are you hungry? Let’s grab something to eat before we take you to your new place.” Bokuto threw one of  his arms around your shoulders and dragged one of your suitcases with his free hand. 
“Yes, please, we are starving.” Kuroo cried walking slightly behind with Akaashi. 
You had dinner with them and talked about your time in London, all the places you travelled to, the party tragedies and all the problems you got into with Kuroo making Bokuto and Akaashi laugh. You gave them the gifts you bought for them — a lot of thrifted books, a fancy pen and some keychains for Akaashi and a teddy bear with an ‘I love London” shirt, a hat and a phone cabin figurine for Bokuto — and had a lot to drink. Akaashi decided that it was better for you to stay the night with them since your apartment wasn’t ready yet, but you still wanted to see your new home. You opened the door and walked in hesitantly followed by your three friends.
“Fancy place.” Kuroo said after whistling in awe. The place was already furnitured, too minimalist for your liking but you were adding your touch — and a lot of indoor plants — later, the kitchen was definitely bigger than the one you had at your place in London, the high ceilings  made the place look a lot bigger. “If you ever need a roommate I’m free.” Kuroo peeked his head from what you assumed was your bedroom. 
“I rather eat dirt than sharing an apartment with you again, not after the Airbnb disaster.” You cringed at the memory of Kuroo almost setting the rented apartment on fire trying to light  a chimney. You travelled with your friends to Scotland during winter break and rented a place to stay during your time there, all of you were freezing and he offered to light the fireplace, but he forgot to mention he never in his life lighted a chimney, hence him setting one of the cushions — and part of his hair — on fire. “Oh, come on that was one time! And there’s no fireplace here.” he leaned against the wall also cringing at the memory of his burnt hair. 
“Yeah, I’m still not rooming with you.” You walked past him to look into your bedroom, he followed right after you. The bed was really big and you had a lot of storage space in the closet. The room had its own bathroom and a vanity. “I need to go plant shopping.” you entered the bathroom to take a look too. 
“Maybe you should go grocery shopping first.” You heard Akaashi enter the room. “The place is really nice, but I do agree with you, it needs a little bit of life and color.” 
“Once you start working you can get all the plants you want, Y/N, but first let’s focus on settling your stuff down.” Kuroo sat down on the bed and Akaashi hummed in agreement. They were right, you needed to unpack all of your belongings as soon as possible, your family planned to come the next day to help you out since Bokuto and Akaashi had to work and Kuroo had to take the train back to Tokyo to visit his family. You were excited to see your parents and sister, your departure was so sudden and you missed them like crazy.  Living by yourself  was terrifying for you. It was a reminder that you were alone. There was no one expecting you to come back every night, and looking back at your new bed, it was too big. ‘Stop thinking about him.’ You thought to yourself.
It was inevitable, Iwaizumi still occupied your thoughts from time to time, not as often as a year ago, but sometimes your mind drifted away and reminisced of your times with him. Like when you moved in together, your movie marathons and the nights you spent in his arms talking about the future. Ever since you went away you wondered what future he was talking about. If he wanted a life with you, why did he cheat? 
The first three months in England felt like hell, you were homesick and all the pented anger and sadness took a toll on you. For a month straight you cried yourself to sleep until your roommates noticed and asked what was going on, you told them everything one night hanging out with your friends —including Kuroo— drunk on wine. They all decided to join the “Let’s beat Iwaizumi up” club and helped you to get through the pain you were feeling at the time. You will always be grateful for them helping you forget Iwaizumi. But it wasn’t that easy. You couldn’t say you still loved him, but the aftermath of your breakup with him came with trust issues and affected the way you perceived yourself. You felt completely unworthy, like you weren’t enough and it took a lot of work and help from your friends to get past that. You deserved better, you know it now. However, the memories with him remained untouched in your head. You grew up together, he was with you in your proudest moments — funny enough, he brought you to your lowest — and it was impossible to look back without him being in the picture. 
A week after your arrival you were all set in your new apartment. Your parents and sister helped you out organizing your belongings and decorating the place. You and your mom were one and the same, she brought with her some indoor plants knowing that was your new place needed — You also went plant shopping and dragged your dad and sister with you —, your dad installed some shelfs and a security system since he was worried about you living alone far away from home and your sister went grocery shopping, organized your closet with you and gave you some tips on living alone. Bokuto and Akaashi made sure to drop by once your family went back home. “So you start working tomorrow?” Akaashi poured another glass of wine for you. 
“Yes! I’m really excited. I had a meeting with my new boss today and apparently the public relations department only has five employees. I’m surprised since it’s such a popular team.” You said and took a sip of your wine. You were working as a P.R manager for the MSBY Black Jackals thanks to your professors recommendations, although you never imagined working in the sports field but it was a great opportunity for you who just graduated college, so you took the chance and secured a job before coming back home. “When are you going to tell us which team you are working with?” Bokuto asked. “You should work for my team, my friends are really amazing.” He added, he was kind of bitter since you were working for another team and you are supposed to be his ‘super best friend’, what kind of super best friend works for a rival team? He felt betrayed to say the least.
“I’m sure, Kou, but it’s a surprise.” You giggled at your friend’s deflated state and puppy eyes.”You will see tomorrow.” You wanted to mess with him a little bit and tried to make really obvious that you were working for his team.
“How am I going to know if I’m not going to be there?” He asked in confusion, Akaashi and you shared a playful glance and then waited for it to hit him “Akaashi! What does she mean? and why are you smiling?” It took a few seconds until his jaw dropped “Wait! You are working for us?” He got up from his seat and waited for you to answer, you could only nod and laugh at his excitement, he hugged you and started talking at an unbelievable speed, telling you about his teammates and how excited he was to have you at work. “We’re going to have so much fun, Y/N!”
“Bokuto-san, we have to go, you have morning practice.” Akaashi announced trying to save you from Bokuto’s sudden energy kick, the gray haired man went back to his sad state when he heard his boyfriend’s voice saying they had to leave. You walked them to the door and held Akaashi’s arm, dragging him down enough to whisper in his ear. “Bokuto-san? Really?” 
“What do you mean?” 
“No pet names? My love, my one and only, love of my life? Nothing?” You asked in disbelief. He chuckled. “That’s none of your business, brat.” He flicked your forehead and laughed at your pained expression “Those are reserved for special occasions.” You gagged at his words and he pulled you into a hug and kissed your forehead right where he hit you before. “Good night, Y/N.”
“Good night, ‘Kaashi, text me once you get home.” You closed the door and sighed at the sight of your empty apartment. ‘This is going to be rough.’ You thought, you couldn’t wait to start working to get away from the haunting loneliness that flooded your place.
The next morning Bokuto couldn’t be more excited, he texted you really early to wish you luck. He was really motivated during morning practice, he was energetic all the time, but you being there got him pumped up. The Jackals were currently running drills and his cross shots were exceptional. “Bokkun, you are on fire today!” Atsumu praised the wing spiker. 
“Miya is right, what got you so excited today?” Meian dried the sweat from his forehead with a towel and took a step closer to Bokuto. 
“My best friend is coming today! She just came back from London and I am really happy that she’s here!” 
“She is watching us practice?” It was Barnes’s turn to ask. Bokuto shook his head and explained. 
“She is going to work on our team as a manager!” 
“Good, we need a new one since Omi-kun scared the one we had.” Atsumu looked at Sakusa who opted to ignore him. 
“Not that kind of manager, she is going to work with Imai-san in  public relations.” Bokuto explained and sat on the floor before coach Foster came back and called the break off. 
“That’s right, Bokuto.”  a woman’s voice interrupted the chat between the players making them turn around to look at you and your boss, Imai Hideko, the MSBY Black Jackals manager and promoter. “Listen up, guys, this is Y/N L/N, she is our new Public Relations manager, I expect all of you to behave and get along with her. She is in charge of your schedules and everything that involves public appearances.” She introduced you and the team bowed as a greeting.
“I’ll introduce you!” Bokuto got up from the floor and took your hand to drag you around “This is Meian-san, our captain! He is really scary when he gets mad.” Bokuto pointed at his captain and his awkward smile that vanished as soon as it appeared. “See? Scary.” Bokuto trembled.
“Pleasure to meet you, thanks for working with us, take good care of our team.” The black haired captain greeted you. “Thank you for having me.” You greeted back before Bokuto dragged you to two extremely tall men who seemed to have a nice chat while they rested for a bit, you felt bad for interrupting their break.
“This is Oliver and Thomas, they are really strong players! Oliver-san spiked once directly to my face and I thought he broke my nose, and Thomas is one of our middle blockers, you may get along well, he speaks english too! He is always talking in english with Inu-san, where is he by the way?” Bokuto started to pull from your arm before you could even greet both players, you looked at them apologetically and they laughed, they were already used to Bokuto’s energetic personality.  “Inu-san!” Bokuto called a man from the other side of the court. 
“Hey, Bokkun! This is your friend?”
“Yes! Y/N, this is Inu-san, he always treats us to dinner and has a really cute cat! His name is meatball and he always scratches my face when he sees me.” Bokuto pouted and Inunaki giggled.
“I trained him to do it.” He said. “Shion Inunaki, pleasure to meet you.” You shook his hand and introduced yourself again, starting a small conversation about his cat until you heard someone cough behind you. 
“Oi, Bokkun, you are not going to introduce me and Omi-kun.” Another blonde haired man said. 
“You are right! Y/N, this is Tsum Tsum and the one with the mask is Omi-kun, they were scouted at the same time as me! We are like brothers.” Bokuto had a big smile on his face. ‘Omi-kun’ muttered a ‘No we are not.’ with clear disgust and walked away.
“Yeah, they are dumb, dumber and asshole.” Inunaki said, making you laugh. 
“Who 's who?” You asked. 
“Up to you.” He shrugged with a smirk and walked away. You never noticed when the guy Bokuto introduced as ‘Tsum Tsum’ stepped closer to you.
“Atsumu Miya, a press favorite.” he grinned.
He was insanely attractive, everyone in the team was but something about his hazel eyes made you look past his overly cocky attitude. His aura was definitely charming, but something inside you screamed ‘danger’, you took a step back and smiled politely. “Sure you are.” 
“Well guys, I hope you don’t cause Y/N trouble.” Hideko said, walking next to you. “She will be reviewing your schedule for the next few weeks since we are really close to starting a new season. Listen to her, and don’t be a pain in the ass, and yes Miya, I am talking about you.”
“Imai-san! What are you talking about?” Atsumu whined. 
“You know exactly what I mean, Miya.” Hideko placed her hand on her hip and rolled her eyes. 
“Thought you were a press favorite.” You giggled at the setter’s upset expression, he could only look at you, before he could say anything else, you smiled brightly catching his attention. You were beautiful, and your smile was really sweet. It was his turn to smile, this time to himself, you were refreshing and something in your presence got him hooked. Maybe the confidence you irradiated, the warmth in your smile or how you played along with his joke. 
“Thank you so much again for having me and I hope we can get our work done smoothly, I’m here to help you in case you get in trouble with the press or have any questions on your schedule.” You bowed at the team once again. 
After a small talk with coach Foster, you and Hideko left the court and went back to your new office, leaving a great first impression on the team. “Your friend is really nice, Bokkun.” Adriah said while he did his cool down stretches.
“She is the best! I’m glad you guys like her.” Bokuto took off his knee pads and started stretching on the floor too. 
“I think someone liked her way too much.” Inunaki patted Atsumu’s back as he walked past him.
“Oi, Inu-san!” Atsumu whined, he almost choked since he was drinking from his bottle when Inunaki hit him. The rest of the team laughed at him. 
“You like Y/N-chan, Tsum Tsum?” Bokuto asked. 
“No, I just met her, and leave me alone, I don’t have time for this.” Atsumu said with clear annoyance as he walked away, the team laughed again because of the fit he was throwing. It wasn’t a lie, he just met you. 
But God, did he wanted to know more about you.
(a/n: hiiii, i took too long, i know please don’t kill me :( i got stuck halfway through it but it’s here and it’s really long! to make up for my pea brain that apparently can’t function properly. anyways, SAY HI TO THE JACKALS! i’m so excited, ik it’s short but next chapter you’ll get the content you want :) as always i want to thank my betas for helping me with this chapter too! they deserve the world honestly. and thanks to all of you too! for all the support and your feedback, it’s always a appreciated. <3)
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of-a-chaotic-mind · 4 years
Text
Show and Tell
Summary: Thor meets Reader, who is a Child of Zeus. There’s a bit of tension and showing off but in the end, they bond over a certain thing in common.
TW/CW: Spoilers for Trials of Apollo: The Burning Maze after the gif towards the end, Thor Odinson x Child of Zeus!Reader, a couple swear words.
Requested?: Nope
Word Count: 1,100
A/N: For the purposes of this imagine, Nat came back when Steve returned the Soul Stone. Also, there’s spoilers for Trials of Apollo: The Burning Maze towards the end so proceed with caution. If you don’t want to read the spoiler then don’t read past the gif towards the end. Anyways, writing this made me want to go reread all the PJO, HOO, and TOA books lol. As always, love to all, and the Requests are Open!
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[You can read past this gif lol just not the next one also this is beautiful artwork!]
Your POV
     As I followed Nat out to the middle of the yard, I wondered yet again why Fury thought this the best place for me. When I asked him to put me somewhere useful, I expected something bigger and more bustling than a quiet compound in upstate New York. Although, at least this way I’m not too far from camp. Sure, it’s still an hour away but it’s closer than I had expected. The sunlight glints off the windows of the compound and the cloudless blue sky stretches forever in all directions as we finally reach the small group of heroes awaiting our arrival.
     Introductions are made and then Nat opens the floor for any questions, comments, or concerns. Sam is the only one with something to say, “You don’t look like the child of Zeus. You look like the emo kid that sits at the back of Peter’s science class.” I look down at my black oversized hoodie, ripped skinny jeans, and combat boots and realize he’s right but I’m too comfy in this outfit to change right now so instead, I prove my power by stretching out my hand and making a motion like I’m yanking something out of the sky which summons a lightning bolt.  
     With a satisfied grin on my face and a shocked expression on his I respond, “You should see how my cousin Nico dresses if you think this is emo.”
     A loud blast comes from behind me and I hear Nat swear, “Shit, he isn’t supposed to be back until tomorrow.” We both turn to find the Norse god of lightning, Thor, walking our way. Interested I wait as he approaches, “Ah you must be a friend of the man of spiders. How are you today?”
     Raising an eyebrow, I give Nat a look. She gives me an apologetic look, “Sorry, I didn’t exactly tell him you were coming yet. It’s not easy to figure out how to mesh two cultures.”
     I laugh softly, “Don’t worry. I understand how tough it can be. We had to figure out how to get along with the roman kids. I’m sure this will be no different.”
     “I’m sorry. I’m missing something here,” Thor interrupts.
     “Thor, this is (Y/N) child of Zeus. (Y/N), I’m sure you’ve already figured out that this is Thor, Norse god of lightning,” Nat introduces.
     I look up at Thor as he glares down at me, “Surely, a young child like you does not possess the power of Zeus.”  
     I roll my eyes and go to summon another lightning blast but Nat stops me, “Easy on the frying. Between the two of you, Tony is already rolling in his grave about the state of the lawn.”
     I sigh, “Fine, but why do people keep doubting me? If it were Jason instead of me, they wouldn’t doubt him for a second,” I say the last part more to myself than anyone else. Thor shifts on his feet and drops the hilt of his battle axe to the ground and props himself up on it with an amused grin plastered across his face. I raise an eyebrow, “I have one of those too you know.” With his look of doubt, I reach into the pocket of my jeans and take out a black drachma. I show it to Thor before tossing it into the air and catching the hilt of my sword as it comes down. Frustrated, I throw it back into the air, “Why do you always come up heads first?” Once the coin falls back into my hand, I toss it back up and this time I catch the hilt of my battle axe, and swing it around to rest it on my shoulders.
     “Mine was forged in the heart of a dying star and made of Uru. What about yours?” he asks with a hint of pride in his voice.
     “This was mined and forged in the Underworld and cooled in the River Styx. It’s Stygian Iron. You can say I’m Uncle Hades’ favorite niece,” I answer with my own bit of pride showing through. At this, Thor tosses his axe off to the side and it instantly returns to his hand. I do the same with mine and it returns just as quickly. Thor gives me an impressed look before summoning just enough of the Bifrost for me to see it. I shrug, “Unfortunately, mine doesn’t do that. I need to talk to Hermes and Iris about getting one though. It would make traveling so much easier.”
     Our little show and tell session is interrupted as Nat’s phone chimes. She looks at it and then at me, “You ready for a fight or do you want to sit this one out?”
     I look up at the sky and then at the ground and shrug. I summon another lightning blast but this one hits me and transforms my relaxed attire into battle armor. I look back at Nat, “I’m always ready for a fight.”
     The show and tell didn’t stop there. It seemed Thor was constantly showing off during the battle and I’ll admit, I was too. I was eager to show off my abilities and prove myself worthy of fighting amongst these heroes. I’d never gotten the chance to before like my younger brother and so many of his friends. With this new team, I was hoping to make my father proud but that’s a tough job to do.
[SPOILERS FOR TRIALS OF APOLLO: THE BURNING MAZE ARE AFTER THIS GIF, PROCEED WITH CAUTION. Also, this gif is so freaking cute!]
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     The battle has been won now and we are heading back to the compound on the quinjet. Thor takes a seat beside me, “You mentioned a Jason earlier. I was just wondering who that is.”
     I sigh, “Technically, he was my younger brother, except he’s Roman and I’m Greek. He and a bunch of his friends battled all kinds of monsters and because of it, my father expects more of me. He died in battle.”
     “I had a younger brother too. He was a lot like you. He was always trying to prove himself to our father,” Thor says.
     “What happened to him?” I ask.
     “He died in an attempt to kill the mad titan Thanos. It is a very long story,” he says, looking down at the floor.
     “Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up any terrible memories.”
     “It is alright. We will meet again one day in Valhalla.”
     I nod, “I hope to see Jason in Elysium one day but I have to earn it first.”
     “You’re not so bad child of Zeus,” he says nudging my shoulder.
     “Neither are you son of Odin,” I respond with a laugh.
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annerbhp · 4 years
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Lucky
- part one
- part two
- part three
- part four
- part five
- part six
- part seven
- part eight
- part nine
Part Ten
As they settle in for their first weekend in the Burrow, Ginny is pleased to see that Ron is behaving himself for the most part.
Soon enough he and Harry seem as chummy as ever. And, no, she is not warmed by their ridiculous friendship and how happy it clearly makes both of them just to be around each other. Mostly because Ron has also done everything he can to ensure that Harry and Ginny are never alone for even a minute.
Though it’s Molly who puts a ward across Ginny’s door.
“I’m very happy for you too,” she says, patting Ginny’s hand. “But there will be no nonsense under my roof.”
Ginny bites back the impulse to ask what she means by nonsense. Or more importantly, just what kind of things Molly herself got up to her fifth year to make her so suspicious.
Ron seems to have restrained himself from teasing Harry about the ward, probably rightly realizing he would be mortified if he knew. No, Ron saves the teasing all for her, the git.
But no one is mad or upset or making Harry feel bad, so not being able to find a minute to kiss him again the last 36 hours seems a small enough price to pay. Or so she tells herself.
Ron and Harry are currently at the sink, trimming sprouts, while Ginny sets the table. Harry is filling Ron in on everything they overheard Draco say the night of the party.
Ron glances back at her near the beginning of the recitation—though whether because he isn’t certain she should hear this or because he’s questioning her loyalties, she doesn’t know, because Harry says, “Ginny was there too, she heard it.”
Harry seems glad to have someone to back him up, especially since Ron seems dubious. Not that Ginny doesn’t have to correct Harry a few times when he overstates things.
“It’s definitely suspicious though!” Harry says.
“Yes,” Ginny agrees. “It is.” She still intends to give it the proper thought it deserves, though she’s still not sure what business it is of hers, what Draco may or may not be getting up to. If he’s a Death Eater.
“I take it Malfoy isn’t shouting about his evil plans in the Slytherin common room then,” Ron says, looking back at her.
“No,” Ginny says. “He’s rarely there from what I’ve seen.”
“See!” Harry says, grabbing onto the tidbit with typical zeal. “Suspicious!”
“But I’m not there much either,” she feels the need to clarify. “So maybe I’ve just missed him.”
“You aren’t?” Ron asks. “Why not? I mean, it’s not my favorite place, but I don’t remember it being that unpleasant.”
Ginny’s eyes narrow. “When have you ever been in the Slytherin common room?”
Ron and Harry share shifty glances.
“Uh, never,” Ron says. “Just guessing, really.”
Ginny looks at Harry, daring him to lie to her as blatantly as her brother just did.
He glances uneasily between the two of them. “Our second year,” he says, Ron immediately groaning and shoving at Harry’s shoulder.
“Whipped already,” Ron mutters.
Harry glares at him. “You want me to lie to her?”
“Fine,” Ron says. “We made polyjuice to get in. We thought maybe Malfoy was the one opening the chamber.”
Ginny feels something cold slide down her spine. “Oh.” She shoves the feeling down and away. Away, away, away. When she can breathe again, she says, “Right house, wrong person, I suppose.”
“Yeah,” Ron says, having the grace to look uncomfortable. “Guess so.”
Harry’s looking at her too, but she can’t quite get herself to meet his gaze. “Well, what I’m hearing from this new tidbit is that this is hardly the first time you’ve suspected Draco of some evil plot.”
Ron snorts. “Harry pretty much suspects him of an evil plot every year.”
Harry scowls. “That’s not true. And besides, this year we already have proof!”
“One conversation is hardly proof,” Ron says.
“What about Borgin and Burke’s?”
“We all agreed we didn’t clearly see anything there. And you told Dumbledore, didn’t you? He didn’t think it was anything.”
“Which is stupid!” Harry exclaims. “I mean, the thing with Katie too!”
It does seem like a lot of suspicious things happening around Draco. But hearing that Harry spoke with Dumbledore and was dismissed is just as interesting. Unless he’s exaggerating that too. “Maybe they’re already doing something about it,” Ginny says. “The teachers. And they don’t want you getting in the way.”
Harry turns, opening his mouth with clear outrage, but she cuts across him before he can speak. “I’m not saying that’s right or okay, I’m just saying maybe it’s what they think.”
He gives her a mulish look, taking it out on the poor sprouts.
The conversation doesn’t go any further, the twins bursting into the kitchen a moment later. They come up behind Ron, arms thrown over his shoulders. “What is this we hear about you and a certain Lavender Brown?”
“What?” Ron sputters.
Fred leans in closer. “Sucking face every available moment?”
Ron’s ears burn an alarming shade of red, craning his head around to look at Ginny. “I can’t believe you told them!” 
She lifts her hands. “I didn’t.”
“Oh, no,” Fred confirms. “Our slippery little sister has failed us on that account. We heard it from a very reliable source. A Gryffindor source.”
Ginny rolls her eyes.
George nods. “Third-hand from someone who witnessed it first-hand!”
“Though from what we’ve heard,” Fred adds, “there is no one at Hogwarts who has not witnessed it first-hand.”
Ron pushes them off him, beginning to look desperate. “I think you should be a bit more concerned with who Harry has been snogging!”
“Wow,” Ginny says. “I thought Gryffindor were supposed to be brave. Way to throw your best mate to the skrewts.”
But Ron’s desperate ploy pays off immediately, the twins off and running, and nothing in the world to stop them as they turn on Harry instead.
George looks delighted. “Has little Harry caught himself a paramour at long last as well? What a bumper year for Gryffindor year six!”
Fred leans into Harry. “Has the Chosen One been chosen?”
“Tell us, Harry,” George says.
“Someone slip something into your pumpkin juice?” Fred asks.
Harry scowls. “Of course not.”
“Ah, a bit touchy,” George says, looking over at Fred. “He must really like this girl. It is a girl, isn’t it?”
“Does she know what a scrawny git you are?”
“Hopefully she doesn’t assume the Boy-Who-Lived is suave and cool.”
“Maybe she’s impressed by his Quidditch skills.”
“Likes a bloke who can handle his broom.”
Harry may look like he wants to die and sink into the floor, but Ron is the one looking more and more miserable the longer the twins talk. Serves him right.
Ginny just leans back, content to let them dig a hole as deep as possible for themselves.
“Tell us, Harry,” George insists.
“What’s she like?” Fred asks.
“Easy on the eyes?”
“A scintillating conversationalist?” Fred wags his eyebrows.
“Yes, tell us, Harry,” Ginny breaks in, feeling inexplicably perverse. “Is she a good kisser?”
The twins crow in approval, giving her proud looks as she appears to jump on to the ‘give Harry shit’ train.
Harry’s the one to turn and look at her in surprise, but she just lifts her eyebrow in challenge.
“No need to be bashful,” she says, fighting hard to keep a smile off her face.
He regards her a moment, like he’s trying to figure out what game she’s playing. “A gentleman never tells.”
The twins groan.
“Nice save,” Ginny says, rather pleasantly remembering their leisurely afternoon on the train.
“Pathetic,” Fred accuses.
“Well, it’s all I’ll say about it,” Harry says, even as a slow grin curves his lips like maybe he’s thinking about it to. Ginny gets stuck staring at his mouth for a moment.
Fred hoots with laughter. “From the look on his face, I’d say that’s a strong yes.”
“A very strong yes,” George agrees.
“You guys—” Ron tries to interrupt, looking more and more pained. But Ginny has no intention of letting him help the twins out of this before she’s good and ready.
“Ron,” she cuts across him. “Don’t be a spoilsport. We all want to know about Harry’s mystery woman.” She leans forward on her elbow, propping her chin up on her hand. “Go on, Harry. Enlighten us.”
“Yes, do tell,” George says.
“We want details,” Fred agrees.
Ginny settles back to wait, more curious to hear what he’ll say than she probably should be.
“Well,” Harry says, once he realizes Ginny has no intention of rescuing him from this, “she’s definitely got a wicked sense of humor. Downright depraved some might say.”
Ginny fights hard to keep her countenance, and Harry can clearly tell, a small smirk on his face, like maybe he’s settling in to enjoy himself. It only makes her want to kiss him more.
“Good, good,” Fred says. “It’s important to find someone capable of taking a joke.”
Harry nods. “Yes, well, she doesn’t take shit from anyone either. Especially me.” He pauses, his eyes lighting up with mischief. “Best of all, she’s almost as good as I am at Quidditch.”
“Almost?” Ginny says, forgetting herself.
“Also,” Harry continues, clearly either not recognizing or just unmoved by the murder in her eyes, “even though she would deny it with her dying breath, she is just as competitive as any Gryffindor.”
“You take that back,” she says, eyes narrowing.
Harry leans against the sink, grinning at her as he crosses his arms over his chest, clearly proud to have gotten a rise out of her. “Make me.”
Ginny pushes to her feet. “Oh, it’s on. You, me, brooms, the paddock. Now.”
“Wait, what?” she hears George say, but she’s far too focused on Harry to care.
“It’s nearly dark!” Ron tries to reason. “And cold!”
“So what?” Harry says, clearly just as keen. 
“Yeah,” Ginny says. “Fred and George will help you finish up the sprouts. Won’t you, brother dears?” Crossing over to Harry, she grabs the front of his shirt, tugging him towards the back door. “Harry and I have a few things to take care of.”
They are walking out the door when she hears George says, “What the hell?”
“You mean Harry and Ginny—?” Fred starts to say, voice incredulous.
The door shuts, cutting off any further conversation.
Harry shakes his head as he follows her out into the garden. “I meant it. Depraved.”
“You had just as much fun with that, admit it,” Ginny says, leading him around towards the front of the house until they are out of view of the kitchen windows. 
“Depraved,” he repeats, even as he reaches for her waist, like it’s also occurred to him that this is the first time they’ve been alone since they arrived.
“And a really good kisser?” she asks, her hand sneaking up behind his neck, Quidditch already forgotten. Or rather put off for another day. She has no intention of forgetting it.
“Yeah,” he says, “not a competitive bone in your body.”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
“I should have added bossy,” he says, not giving her a chance to respond before he’s kissing her. 
And god, it’s almost better that she remembers, her entire body tingling as he kisses and kisses and kisses her, brothers and mysteries and competitions all completely forgotten. Neither of them even paying any attention to the two soft cracks nearby as more people arrive.
“So was anyone going to tell me that Harry and Ginny are together?” they hear Bill ask loudly as he wrenches open the front door to the Burrow. “Or was I just supposed to walk by them snogging in the garden to figure it out?”
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