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hangesfavles · 8 months ago

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Nerd Hange headcanons

4.1k words. AFAB NB loser! hange x bimbo (ish)! fem reader. <3

Summary: Hange is more of a socially inept lesbian redditor gamer nerd rather than a normal ‘i’m smart’ dweeb :). These are general hcs of how you met loser/streamer Hange, things they like and relationship dynamics including you secretly eating them out on stream. <3

A/N: this is my first ever attempt at nsfw so i’m sorry if it’s bad or nondescript! also i know both of my fics so far have been for afab reader, but going forward i plan to write for a genny nootch reader just because i find it to be inclusive to wider groups of hange lovers <3 lol and last time i posted i said i never wrote fanfiction before but that was a tiny fib because i wrote shitty dumpster fire fanfics in middle school, but i’ve /srsly never tried my hand at nsfw before, but i guess there's a first for everything. pls critique me if u have any thoughts but be nice i’m sensitive. also shoutout to @abbyslev for helping me brainstorm <3 if ur reading my fanfics u probably already do, but pleaaaase follow her if u dont she’s lovely!!!! :3

Warnings: Nsfw content under my 2nd divider, sort of exhibitionism and masturbation. Not all of this is nsfw, but I’d still like for MINORS TO DNI. However, I know that you guys like to ignore those warnings, so I bolded the nsfw sections. At the very least, please don’t read the bolded hcs. Thank you & enjoy reading!

❥Loser! Hange who is in the same math course as you. When you walk in on the first day, you’re drawn to them, but not for the reasons you’d initially think. You were almost positive that they would be a decent person to cheat off of. I mean, they seem to look like they know what they’re doing, right?

❥Loser! Hange that can hear their pulse in their ears when they see a pretty girl take the spot beside them. They feel their heart rattling around in their chest as they sneak glances at you whenever they get the chance.

❥Loser! Hange quickly figures out the reason why you decided to sit next to them, rather than the other isolated chairs inside the lecture hall. But don’t worry, of course they’ll let you cheat off of them. Unfortunately, their performance starts to dip a little when they realize what you’re doing. They’re frequently under your gaze, and they can’t help it that you make them nervous :c

❥Loser! Hange that is unaware that your eyes aren’t only looking down at their answers. One class when you were copying off of them, you started noticing the way their fingers hold their pencil. How slender their digits are, that their nails are surprisingly short, neat and cleaner than expected. You also started to notice how their veins protrude slightly and move up their arm... You feel yourself biting your lip as you observe their side profile. Their cheeks look soft and pink, similarly to their kissable lips. Your eyes continue to trail over their face: their thin, ovular glasses are slightly pushed down on their hooked nose, and their long eyelashes flutter as they continue to take notes beside you.

❥Loser! Hange can’t not listen to you getting called out by the professor when they notice you copying off of your seatmates’ assignments and notes. It was rather embarrassing, but you’re just happy the professor didn’t catch you cheating on an exam and risking academic misconduct.

❥Loser! Hange nudges your arm lightly after that incident, their voice low so you both don’t get caught by the professor. "Hey, um... I've noticed you've been using my notes and uh... answers. Do you need any help with the material? I mean, like, we could study together or something! If you want." They ask you with an excitement in their eyes and voice.

❥Loser! Hange can’t even feel proud of the fact they managed to talk to you because they barely even got that sentence out, and they couldn’t look you in the eye for more than 2 seconds. But it seems like all that is forgotten when you actually agree to meet up with them. They feel a rush of giddiness, but they try not to make a fool of themself in front of you. “Right! Yeah, so here’s my number... We can plan something, er- sometime.” They write their number down, sliding you the ripped end of their notebook page.

❥Loser! Hange who feels their heart in their throat as they lead you into their bedroom. The study session started off a bit rocky and awkwardly, but the tension in the air decreased as time continued on. As much as you would like to actually learn this material to earn good grades, you find yourself wanting to earn their attention much, much more. I mean, you obviously wore your lowest cut shirt and a pleated skirt for a reason. You look up at them, calling out for them. “Hey, Hange?” You ask, smiling as their head shoots up from their notes. “Can you explain this question to me?” You ask quietly, turning around your notebook to face them. You lean closer to them, purposely displaying your breasts for them to (hopefully) ogle.

❥Loser! Hange who starts to feel like they’re being tested by a higher power. They have to physically stop themself from glancing down and making a fool of themself. They try their best to focus on explaining the math problem to you as you watch their every movement like a hawk. You notice their eyes fall on your chest for a split second, and you pounce on your opportunity to tease them further. You reach up to their face, flicking their nose up so they’re forced to look at you. “My eyes are up here, silly.” “I- Uh- Sorry, just-” Hange trips over their words as they try to formulate a cohesive sentence on the spot. “Don’t worry about it, I’m just teasin’. It’s not so bad to be stared at if it's you.” You say with a playful wink.

❥Loser! Hange folds immediately. “O-Oh... Me? Really?” They ask, their eyes widening and pupils dilating. You can’t help but chuckle at their disbelief and nod your head in confirmation. “Yes, you. Is there anybody else in the room with us?” You joke. They stumble over their words as they think of a response. “W-Well, no, there isn’t, but- y’know- I didn’t think you-” They stutter, pushing the notebook aside and gesturing their hands between the two of you. They feel their cheeks growing warmer from embarrassment as they struggle to coherently voice their jumbled thoughts. “You know, you should at least take me to dinner before looking at me like that.”

❥Loser! Hange doesn’t need to be told twice. They grab your hand with a cheesy smile, practically dragging you to their car while suggesting all sorts of restaurants that you might agree to. “Is there a certain restaurant you had in mind? We can try something totally different, like a little hole-in-the-wall joint. Ooh, but picture this: hibachi. The whole watching people cook in front of me thing usually makes me feel awkward but the food is always soooo good. Oh, or maybe we could go to a steakhouse! No matter what you choose, I’ll be fine with whatever! What do you think?" GOD they are just so excited and you find it utterly adorable. They remained true to their word and took you to whichever place you decided and paid for both of your meals. (They would have done this even if you didn’t joke about it bless their heart.) But then that first date turned into 2 dates, which quickly became 3, 4, 5, then suddenly you both forgot because anything the two of you do together is a date in your minds.

❥Loser! Hange definitely asks you out after only the second date. But in their defense, you’ve been hanging out after class as well as coming over to their house for “study sessions” that alway turned into watching tv or movies, ordering ubereats, going to the movies, walking around their neighborhood, anything but studying. You even took them to a party once. (You guys left after a half hour because Hange got overwhelmed, but you were still happy they tried something for you.) So by the time you guys went on your second “official date” they definitely felt confident that you would say yes.

❥Loser! Hange who loves talking to you about whatever game they’re playing. If it’s a story game, they’d love to explain anything you missed or don’t understand. They also would voice their predictions about how the game will end or where the story will go. If they see something predictable, they’ll definitely tell you what they think will happen, trying to impress you so when/if it does they’ll look “cool” to you. In reality though, you just find them to be geeky in the most endearing way. “Look, there’s a bunch of ammo in this room. If there’s a boss behind this door, you have to give me a kiss.” They say to you with a sly grin on their face. If it’s a PVP game, they will explain everything about what skills and powers each character has and who their favorite to play is. They’ll talk about what they like and dislike about the different mechanics, their favorite characters, parts they find tricky, etc. And of course, you sit there with a dopey smile while you listen to their rambling without interrupting, even if you don’t understand a word of what they’re saying because they’re just too cute when they’re passionately rambling.

❥Loser! Hange who loves inviting you over, even if you two are doing absolutely nothing. They adore when you watch them play all sorts of video games. If they’re playing a console game, Hange lays next to you with your head against their shoulder, your arm splaying across their stomach while your hand rests around their waist. You tend to get pretty invested if the game is story based, insisting that they can’t play it without you around to watch the next part of the story unfold. If they’re playing a PC game, you’re sitting in their lap with a skirt that does absolutely nothing to cover your body once you’re seated on top of them. You prefer to face away from them, occasionally squirming in their lap so they can feel your ass pressed against their thighs and stomach. However, you do occasionally enjoy facing them, your arms wrapped around their shoulders as your legs hang off of their gaming chair at either side of their body.

❥Loser! Hange who also loves when you’re sitting in their lap, even if they struggle to focus on the game in front of them when your warm body is pressed against their own. It doesn’t help that they can smell the perfume coming from your neck, tempting them to lean in and kiss you there.

❥Loser! Hange that can’t resist the urge to rest their hands on your thighs during a cutscene, between rounds, during any sort of loading screen or when they’re respawning. They’ll use your thighs to push your ass back and closer to their body.

❥Loser! Hange kisses your neck from behind, causing you to tilt your head and expose more of your neck for them to kiss. You let out a chuckle at how you effortlessly turned them on just by sitting on their lap and looking pretty.

❥Let’s just say... Loser! Hange finds the opportunity to quit or pause the game as soon as they can. When they eventually return to whatever game they were playing, they find it much easier to focus after you’re both satisfied. ♡

❥Loser! Hange who is also a small streamer! They probably get a few hundred people to watch them game each stream. They may not have a huge community, but their fans are consistent, funny, and always welcoming to new viewers! It’s a comforting little community. Because of this, Hange responds to their chat quite a bit and they’ve made quite a few friends with their mods and regular viewers.

❥Loser! Hange had to explain to you what streaming was. They decided that they would show you what it's like by doing a short stream while you silently watch them game and listen to them talk with their viewers.

❥Loser! Hange never technically introduced you to their fans. Not because they didn’t want to, they just knew that the internet wasn’t always kind, even if their fans are 99% supportive. They wouldn’t mention it much, but they are a little insecure about themself. They know that they treat you like an absolute princess, and they know that you adore them, that’s not the problem. The problem is that they don’t know if they’ll ever feel deserving of you.

❥Loser! Hange only mentions this to you at late hours of the night when they feel vulnerable and slightly sleepy. You spend countless late nights at sleepovers holding them in your arms and reassuring them just how attractive you find them and that no one has treated you better. They start to feel reassured more once you mention to them that you don’t feel deserving of the endless love they give or of the many ways they spoil you.

anyway back to streamer hcs

❥Loser! Hange didn’t expect you to surprise them one day in their room with their favorite takeout in the middle of a stream. You didn’t know that they were streaming and you wanted to sneak up on them and scare them >:). You slip into their room as quietly as possible, slowly tiptoeing to their form slouched over their desk. Because of the slight delay of their videocam to their viewers, Hange doesn’t get the chance to read all of the different messages of the chatters who spotted your presence and are questioning about it. You silently place the bag of food on the floor, wrapping your arms around their shoulders and kissing their cheek roughly.

❥Loser! Hange practically jumps out of their chair, yelping from the shock. They realize that it’s you pretty quickly, because no one else would hold or kiss them like that. They pause their game, swiveling around to face you with a wide smile. “Hi, baby!! What are you doin’ here?”

❥Loser! Hange immediately forgets the world around them, forgetting they’re literally live as they try to grab at your hips while they talk to you. “Mmmm,” You hum and giggle. “I just wanted to surprise you. It’s been a few days, I missed you.” You mumble before stepping back so that their hands disconnect from your waist. “Let me get some plates and napkins real quick.” You tell them before you leave the room again.

❥Loser! Hange remembers that they’re streaming, facing their viewers again to read what they missed from chat. “Chat, what do you mean ‘how did you bag a baddie?’” They say, reading some of the messages out loud. “‘How come Hange can get a girlfriend and I can’t? Life isn’t fair-’ WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?” They cut themself off, their jaw dropping a little from the comments they read. The chat starts to go crazy after seeing you. Most of the messages are asking who you are, if Hange is dating you, or simply encouraging Hange to stream with you sometime officially. But of course, it’s much easier to take note of bad comments people say rather than nice ones.

❥Loser! Hange pouts when you return with plates in hand, ignoring their chat again in the blink of an eye. "I'm charming, right? and cute?” They look up at you with puppy eyes as you stand in front of them. “I'm desirable." They say those words like a statement, but it sounds like they’re trying to convince themself rather than state a fact. You hear the insecurities dripping from their tone. You promptly climb into their lap, placing a tender kiss to their cheek while your hand cups the opposite one. You progressively start kissing all over their face, and they close their eyes, giggling and getting lost in the moment. When you eventually begin moving down their neck, their eyes snap open as they remember the audience. "AAAAHHHH, I'M LIVE, I'M LIVE!" They warn you frantically, suddenly remembering again why they were a bit insecure in the first place. This causes you to jump a bit from their yelling. They swivel their chair around to face the monitor, looking at it from over your shoulder. "S-Sorry chat, ending stream a bit early today..." They say quickly, turning off their game and switching tabs to end their video. You chuckle, turning to face their camera. "Oops." you say only a few seconds before they end their stream.

❥Loser! Hange decides that they might as well officially introduce you after that incident, since they know they’ll be getting teased for it for the next few streams.

❥Loser! Hange never thought that they would be in this situation with anyone, no less you. This exact scenario had been nothing but a fantasy in the corners of their mind. A fantasy that would fog up their mind in the late hours of the night, prompting them to slip their fingers under their boxers and lightly circle their clit with their fingertips, eventually slipping them inside of their warm body. Their back would arch up off of the bed, trying their best to picture that their own fingers were instead yours.

❥Loser! Hange that noticed a sort of glint in your eyes when they asked if it was okay to stream while the two of you were still hanging out. They hadn’t been active in the past handful of days because they’ve been spending all their time with you. They just can’t deny you, especially when you both want to spend all your time with the other.

❥Loser! Hange who has to resist the urge to drool as you carefully and quietly crawl under their desk, looking up at them through your long, mascara coated eyelashes as your knees hit the slightly dusty floor...

❥You aren’t sure what came over you, but when you were watching them put their headphones on and start welcoming people into their stream, you missed the attention being on you. So decided to tease and torture them and force them to give you attention still.

❥Loser! Hange is forced to pretend you aren’t under their desk and spreading their thighs and pulling down their boxers while giving them that signature sultry smile with your matching lustful look in your eye. You bite your lip as you part their legs, moving in closer to their folds. They can feel your hot breath on their legs as you kiss, lick, and bite the plush skin of their inner thighs. For a few moments, you feel their hand rest on top of your head and stroke your hair approvingly as you start to rile them up. They can feel their face heating up a little, but if anyone in chat mentions it they just explain that their AC isn’t working properly. Even from just your breath and kisses teasing their thighs, they can feel themself getting wet, the stickiness spreading around their groin.

❥Loser! Hange melts under your touches, but they quickly become needy and desperate for more. Their resolve is always weak when it comes to you, and your teasing will be the death of them. They’re trying so hard not to whine and plead because they have to act normal and play their game. Even when your tongue finally reaches out to meet their pussy, you keep teasing them. You give them as little as you possibly can, spreading their folds with the tip of your tongue, only occasionally flicking up to their clit. You also kiss their puffy pussy lips and their clit, showing how much you love them while simultaneously subjecting them to such sweet torture. When they feel your tongue finally giving them what they wanted, their legs start to twitch slightly from the stimulation. They try their best to regulate their breathing so nothing seems out of the ordinary.

❥Loser! Hange doesn’t know how to act when your mouth starts to move faster and faster between their legs. They’ve stopped looking at their chat entirely, just trying to focus on playing the game somewhat coherently and occasionally talking about it or making a random comment without stuttering or sighing from pleasure.

❥Loser! Hange’s pussy is dripping onto their chair from all of your teasing. The combination of your tongue and their pussy makes an audible squelch as you suck, kiss, and lick up their slit and their hips move slightly, trying to keep up with the rhythm of your tongue. At this point, they’re starting to feel the knot in their stomach tighten, and they’re struggling to hold back their sounds. “Chat, I’ve gotta use the bathroom real quick-” They say, closing their webcam and muting their mic as fast as their fingers let them.

❥Loser! Hange’s hand finds its way back to your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pushing you as close to them as biology allows. Their head falls back as they let out a shaky moan. “Ahhh.. F-Fuckk... Please, please more.” They whine, encouraging you to eat them out without fear. You can both feel how their pussy throbs with desire for attention. They’ve been impatiently craving this, so they plan to take full advantage of the fact you’re right where they want you. You pick up the pace, sloppily making out with their pussy and sucking their labia between your lips. They toss one of their legs up onto your shoulder, allowing you more access to them as the knot in their core is almost ready to release. You look up into their eyes, slurping up their juices. The way you look up at them with devotion makes them feel even better due to how much desire is in your expression, adding another layer of eroticism for them from your enjoyment.

❥Loser! Hange feels the tension in their lower stomach releasing. They sigh and moan out into the air lightly as they feel white hot pleasure take their entire mind and body. They arch themself off the chair, trying to meet your mouth even more than already possible. Their body grinds against your tongue as they shiver from the intensity of their orgasm.

❥Immediately after their orgasm subsides, loser! Hange pulls your head up by your hair, kissing you deeply and not caring that they can taste their sticky cum on your plump lips. Their free hand slides down to the back of your thigh, guiding your body to sit on their lap. Their hands are protective and possessive while you make out. They are such a softie, always wanting to cuddle, hug, and kiss after sex. They love you so much and need to let it show, it’s like a warm blanket of warmth and affection covers their heart. They see the world with rose colored glasses for an hour or two after you make them cum, honestly.

❥Loser! Hange holds you for a little while, their face nuzzled against your neck as they whisper sweet nothings to you. They’ll pepper your neck, collarbones, and face with kisses while telling you how good you made them feel. “I- love- you- so- much- sweet- heart- thank- you-” They’d say between pecks to your skin, causing you to giggle from the slight tickle of their lips moving around your upper body. They only stop their barrage of kisses when you start to push at their shoulders playfully, begging them to stop. “I love youuuu!” They say in a drawn out tone, giving your body a tight squeeze. “But duty calls, so we'll have to continue this later. Don't worry, I'll be thinking about you the whole time!"

❥Loser! Hange loves aftercare, giving and receiving, basically. They’re happy as long as you’re physically close to them <//3.

❥Loser! Hange also used to have inappropriate thoughts about you before you two were officially dating. They knew it was a bit weird to do so without you having any knowledge of it, but they couldn’t help themself. The two of you had exchanged Instagrams after your very first study session and since then, they can’t help but fuck their fingers to your posts. They try to refrain from doing so each time; they attempt to scroll past your stories as if the sight of your face hadn’t already turned them on. Each time it always ends the same, inevitably retyping your name in the search bar to revisit the photo. At this point it had to be some sort of conditioning, the way their body would react to you like clockwork. But they still feel so embarrassed to be so obsessed with you simply because you gave them an ounce of attention.

❥Loser! Hange used to imagine you in all sorts of different positions for them. You name it, they’ve probably thought about it once or maybe even twice. Sometimes they would imagine you sitting on their face, other times they could imagine you under them as they would fuck their strap into you. When Hange feels extra desperate, they like to picture the ways you would take them, perhaps you would trap them against the bed, fingering their throbbing pussy while making out with them to ensure that they weren’t too loud. A favorite daydream of theirs surrounds the different types of faces you would make as they eat you out. They yearn to see how your eyes might look down at them, pleading for them to make you cum, or how they may be shut entirely, your lips parted to sigh out with pleasure from how good they’re making you feel. They’d wonder what kind of sounds you would make. Were you loud? Quiet? Shy? Breathy? Are you the type that moans, or are you the type that whimpers? These questions had plagued their mind until they finally had you for the first time after 4-5 dates. <3

i miss hange rip hange you would’ve loved being the most nerdy loser dork the geek world ever saw.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months ago

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Unraveled 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A curious man wanders into your dress shop with a lot of questions.

Characters: Sherlock Holmes (Cavill)

Note: thanks for waiting on this one.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The carriage stops outside a brick building. A walk-up in Marleybone, just along Upper Baker Street. An address you couldn’t even dream of living near, let alone within. You peer up at the facade, the orange brick unstained by the coal and smoke of the backstreets.

Gavin appears to open the door and sets a step down before you can emerge. He offers his hand gallantly and you let him assist you down to the road. You thank him as you peer up at the arched front door of 221b.

“You need only knock, miss,” Gavin goes to pat the horse’s haunch as it kicks. “Ask for Mr. Holmes, he is expecting you.”

You grip your bag tight and set your chin. You might not belong but only you are troubled by it. You climb the steps alongside the iron rail and lift the heavy knocker mounted on the thick wooden door. It’s clang rattles even you.

You wait, both hands on the handles of the bag. Gavin appears behind you with the rolls of fabric, breathless as he struggles to keep them from touching the ground. You return your attention to the door as it opens.

“Hello, I’m looking for Mr.--”

“Holmes,” the very man you’re seeking stands before you, “forgive me, my housekeeper... resigned.”

“Not to worry, sir,” you assure him.

“Come in,” he backs up, gesturing you within with his large hand. “And how was your journey? I hope you didn’t come upon any scoundrels.”

“Only upon her destination, sir,” Gavin japes as he steps in behind you.

“Eh,” Holmes tilts his head at the driver, “allow me.”

Holmes takes the rolls of fabric from Gavin. He hugs them effortlessly in on arm as he faces you again, dismissing the driver with no more than a nod. You stand rigidly by the wall, hesitant to go any further. The door closes and the click makes you flinch.

“Allow me to show you around,” Holmes offers, looming in the tight space of the entryway.

“I need only see your sister,” you insist.

“Ah, yes, Enola, you will, but it only polite to get you acquainted with the space,” he rebuffs.

“With respect, sir, I’ve come out of my way and without warning to this appointment. More work does await me at my shop,” you squeeze the leather handles until they squeak, “it is a lovely home, I’m sure, but I’ve come upon business, haven’t I?”

“Yes, but it wouldn’t take very long,” he counters, “yet, if you’d rather keep this formal, by all means, I will take you to my sister.”

“Thank you, sir.”

You bite down, wondering if perhaps you were more curt than you should be. The apartment is rather far from your neighbourhood and the travel time alone will impose upon your ongoing commissions. You don’t expect he considered that. He does seem the type to command rather than ask.

He directs you to the stairs, just across from the door, and waves you onward. He follows as your skirts brush the top of your boots with each step. The wallpaper is tightly decorated with framed newspapers and portraits, cluttered together but not garishly so.

You get to the top and he advises you to go left. You obey as he keeps pace.

“Did you... discover what led to that woman’s fate? Or who she was?” You ask as you take measured steps.

He isn’t demure as he walks next to you, crowded against you as his broad figure allows for little space, “sadly, yes and no. Not her name. Only that she was a factory woman. I won’t say much on the matter as it is ongoing and confidentiality is a part of my contract, I would only gird you to keep your doors locked and yourself alert.”

You chew on his answer. It makes you nervous. You know the woman was found close to your shop and home. The news has been whispered for blocks.

“I will be sure to hede your advice,” you say.

You walk past a door as he stops to knock on it. You spin back, skirts swirling around you, and he glances at you as he plants his hand on the door frame. There is activity from within, scratching and creaking. He sighs and stands straight as he slides his hand down the pillar. He raps with his knuckles again.

“Enola,” he booms through, his voice shaking you. “I told you to be ready.”

You hear furious footsteps and the lock flicks back with similar furor. It opens and a young woman with a slumping bun greets Mr. Holmes. Strands fall loose from the clip and her blouse is half untucked as her sleeves are rolled to her elbows. She has a long oval face, flushed as she shows her teeth.

“I told you, I’m busy--”

“Not so busy that you would waste this good woman’s time,” Holmes insists, “she traveled all this way. We discussed this.”

She flutters her lashes and huffs. Her eyes flit over to you and she softens her expression, “if her time is wasted, it is hardly my fault.”

“Hm,” he hums flatly, “isn’t it? It wasn’t I who fed your dresses to the furnace.”

She smiles, a smug look that pinches her cheeks, “I was cold.”

“Sister,” he warns dangerously, crossing his arms, his breadth wider than ever.

“You know what, I welcome her company. Much preferable to your own,” the woman sneers and turns her shoulder to her brother, “come on, then. Suppose I need a dress for the banquet.”

You inch forward. A flare of resent burns in you at the position Mr. Holmes has put you in. Plainly, this appointment was not upon his sister’s behest. She holds the door for you and her brother exhales deeply.

“All you need do is stand still, I’m certain you can handle that, sister,” he rebukes, “do let me know when you are finished and I will call the carriage.”

“Thank you,” you utter without looking at him. He sets the rolls just inside the door and backs up to watch you.

You enter the bedroom and find it cluttered and cramped. There are books in stacks with more littered around the bottom. A dried-up paint palette and an easel draped over with several jackets and unpaired stockings. There is a four-post bed with scrambled covers and a canopy twisted around the poles. Vials upon vials line shelves and an inkwell stands uncapped over untidy sheets of paper.

“Very well,” the woman shuts the door, “I am Enola, the famous detective’s ne’er do well sister and you are the seamstress who will make me a peacock.”

You stare at her and swallow tightly. You offer your name before you begin, “I’ve only come upon his request--”

“Ah, yes, I’m certain you have. He’s still trying to make a lady of me. I see through his guise, though he doesn’t think it. He underestimates me, see. He lies but I will go along for I will more easily avoid his snare if I do.”

You nod and narrow your eyes. The wealthy can always afford to be so eccentric. You don’t think any woman you know would view a new dress as such a curse. She is young, she cannot know.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll only take your measurements,” you offer, “I can always fit upon the dress form.”

“Do what you must,” she sighs, “shall I strip down?”

You put your bag on a chair as she unbuttons her blouse, “not-- if you--” You look up at her as she reveals a corset and reaches to undo her skirt. You focus on your bag and scoop out your measuring tape.

You approach her as her skirt heaps at her feet. She is tall, her legs on long, her figure lithe. You begin your work silently. She raises her arms as you request and puts them back down.

“Suppose if I wasn’t here, I might’ve become a dressmaker. I always enjoyed stitching,” she muses as you scribble down each number, “it seems lonely work. Quiet work.”

“It’s work,” you say as you take out the envelope and unfold the page to examine the dress again. You hold it up and glance past it at Enola.

“May I see that?” She asks but doesn’t await an answer before she snatches the paper. “Oh, is this really what he chose? No, no, no, this won’t do. I want my shoulders covered.”

You slip the envelope back in your bag, “it is only what I was given. If you prefer adjustments, it is your dress.”

“Yes, my dress and my body,” she crumples the paper and tosses it onto the rug.

You close up your notebook and go to the rolls of fabric, “would it be too much for me to do some piecework?”

“If you insist,” she pouts.

You take out your scissors and turn your back to her. She isn’t rude, per se, but you’re not in the habit of associating with this sort of clientele. You get numbers on a sheet and you sew. A living form is not quite your forte.

-🪡

When you finish, you can sense Enola’s agitated impatience. You don’t blame her. It’s plain she didn’t want the dress or your visit. It is more so upon the shoulders of her brother. Mr. Holmes. You’re similarly irked that he would put you in this position.

Enola is already fiddling with some instrument before you can go. You emerge and pull the door shut after you. You stand in the hallway, bag at the crook of your elbow as you hug the fabric. You move with hampered steps towards the stairs. As the top creaks beneath your weight, your name is called from further down the hallway.

“Ah, are you set then?” Mr. Holmes asks as he stops just outside a door, “I was thinking, to make up for your efforts, you might want to stay for tea.”

You look down at your armful and back to him, “that’s very generous, but--”

“I believe I paid an adequate fee for the appointment,” he strides slowly towards you, “but I am open to a barter if it was not sufficient.”

You feel the heavy sovereign tucked into your jacket. You crook your lips and raise your chin, “no sir, it will do for today and the making of the dress. The fabric... I don’t have any as rich as the style requested.”

“Another service I may require of you. If you wouldn’t mind to select the material, I would be happy to reimburse the expense.”

“Would there be a colour? A fabric preferred? Velvet? Satin? Chiffon?” You prompt, “I solely work in cotton and wool, as I forewarned.”

“Perhaps we might find a fabric seller at Covent Garden? You could accompany me on my next sojourn--”

“I don’t know if I would have the time. I could write down some fabrics which would suit the silhouette we agreed upon,” you offer.

“Mmm,” he hums, “you are rather professional. How about tea, then? Melinda from across the road sent some mutton over.”

“The hour should see me back to my shop,” you shift your bag.

“You are fastidious,” he stops before you and puts a hand on the fabric, “please, allow me, you are overburdened.”

“I’m--”

You can’t argue as he takes the fabric from you. You let him have it if only to avoid disaster you lean back on your heel. He angles the rolls under his arm easily and grins. A curl strays down his forehead.

“I suppose you are right, given recent events, it would be best to see you home before the evening sets,” he says, “I would gladly see you home safe, miss.”

He is overly polite, or perhaps you aren’t used to it. It is his home, he supplied the carriage, and he has paid generously. It makes each denial feel trite.

“If you must, but I would be just fine on my own comportment,” you accept.

“It isn’t any fuss, I will fetch a jacket and the driver,” he extends his arm past you, “after you.”

You spin on your heel and face the staircase. You descend with your hand on the railing. As you come to the bottom, you wander towards the entry way and take in the fineness of the decor. Is much more becoming than your slanted rooms.

Mr. Holmes places the rolls just beside the door and takes a jacket from the rack. He pulls it on and tells you to wait before he disappears outside. You linger as you are, sliding your bag down to your hands.

When he returns, he reaches within to retrieve the fabric first. “Gavin is bringing up the carriage,” he declares and offers his free arm, “shall we?”

You consider him. You wouldn’t want to be unkind. You step through the door, pulling it shut as you accept his bent arm, your hand in the crook. He accompanies you down the narrow steps, each step crowded by his.

Gavin appears in the driver’s seat and reins the horse to a halt. The beast looks miserable. Mr. Holmes escorts you to the door and releases you to open it. He helps you with a strong hand and you sit within with your bag on your lap. He shoves the fabric in ahead of him, his head bowed as he fits through the small door.

He closes it with a snap and settles on the bench on the other side of you. You stare across at the cotton, expecting he’d have taken that seat instead. His leg is on your skirt.

You keep your hands on your bag. He knocks on the ceiling and the carriage rumbles into motion. You rock with it along the street, silent as you wring the leather handles.

“I hope my sister did not cause too much stress. I know she can be a lot but she’s old enough now. She should start behaving as a lady,” he spreads a large hand across his thigh. “Perhaps, once she finds a husband, that will be easier.”

You nod, uncertain of a proper response.

“Not to mean... I don’t mean to assume, I am known however for my observations, and I have concluded you are not married,” he continues, “I gather if it were the case, you might not have a shop to sew in.”

“Suppose not,” you reply dully.

“It is only to say that my opinion of my sister isn’t general. A woman such as yourself is admirable.”

“A spinster?” You supply.

“I didn’t--”

“I’ve chosen not to marry, that is true. I am not bothered by that fact,” you say, “isn’t that what you deal in, detective, facts?”

“Fair,” he shifts on the bench, “but not everyone can detach emotion from facts.”

“And why should I be emotional about that fact? I am much more happier than any woman could be with a husband,” you stare at the opposite wall of the carriage. “And I will assume, sir, as I am no detective, that you have neither taken to the altar.”

He curls the fingers on his left hand, “I have not.”

“And I’m certain you enjoy your bachelor lifestyle in your grand apartment,” you return, “while my own is not so extravagant, I find solace in it. On that, I think you might understand me.”

He takes a breath and lets it out with a thoughtful hum, “I suppose we are similar in some way.”

#sherlock holmes #dark sherlock holmes #dark!sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #unraveled #enola holmes #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series

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gilverrwrites · 1 year ago

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Against The Wall (/Bathroom Door)

Pairing: Dean Winchester/AFAB! Reader

Feminine pronouns used.

Plot: Dean and the reader are unable to keep their hands off each other during dinner. They sneak off together for a 'quickie' in the restroom.

Rating: M/18+

This is a re-written/edited fic I wrote and posted on a now deleted tumblr. If I recall correctly, it was originally a request for 'against the wall' sex.

Please remember: to be kind to yourself.

Content: Swearing, (really cheesy) flirting, established romantic/sexual relationship, nipple play, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, teasing, dirty talk, semi-public, clothed sex, size difference, biting, (non-sexual) peeing.

Excerpt: "Give me rough and ready any day.” “Ohhh, don’t worry Darlin’...” Dean smirked, the hand on your thigh slipped to cup you through your jeans as he almost closed the gap between you, his lips less than an inch away. “I intend to.”

“Why are we staying here? Why didn’t we check in to that place down the road?” You groaned. You couldn’t help but feel like a sore thumb, as you needlessly examined the well-dressed wait staff and their high society patrons. If the side eyes, and tight smiles they shot back at you were anything to go by, they also thought your table stood out.

Attempting to avert your gaze, you glanced over the menu and had to stifle a gasp. Tired and sore from the hunt, you’d collectively decided that it would be faster and easier to just dine at the hotel’s restaurant, but $37 for a burger, FRIES NOT INCLUDED! Daylight robbery! In hindsight, you wished you’d bothered to walk the extra 10 minutes to the nearest greasyspoon, just on principle. Besides, the motel down the road was next door to a pizza joint, double whammy. “It would have been a helluva lot cheaper.”

“Because it was full up. Besides, I thought you’d appreciate somewhere a little more sophisticated.” Dean replied. If the grin on his face, and the hand on your thigh was anything to go by, he didn’t really care where he was, he was just happy for the food and the company. And to be done with the ghouls you’d been hunting down all week. He winked at you as he leaned in and snatched the menu from you, and you giggled when his brows shot up. Likely also outraged at the price of a burger, WITHOUT FRIES.

“Deano, sophisticated; we, are, not.” You stated as matter-of-factly as you could, trying to ignore his hand as it inched higher and higher up your leg.

“Speak for yourself Sweetheart.” He quipped, locking his eyes with yours and wiggling his eyebrows, “I’ve always had a taste for the finer things in life.”

“HA.” You deadpanned, but he didn’t budge. You leaned in closer, lowering your voice to a purr. “Well, not me. Give me rough and ready any day.”

“Ohhh, don’t worry Darlin’...” Dean smirked, the hand on your thigh slipped to cup you through your jeans as he almost closed the gap between you, his lips less than an inch away. “I intend to.”

You would have leaned in to kiss him, had the sound of Sam clearing his throat, signifying his discomfort, not distracted you both. Embarrassed at having forgotten his presence you both leaned back in your chairs. Dean promptly placed both his hands on the table and shot Sam a very unserious thrown.

“Sorry, Sam.” You extended a brief apology and the three of you sat in awkward silence until someone came to take your drink orders.

“I’m going to the ladies’ room.” You announced shortly after the waiter had left. “10 bucks says this place has attendants.” You joked as you stand from the table and walk away.

“Wait up, I gotta take a leak too!” Dean declared. “If they come back for food, just order for his. No green shit.” He instructed his brother before wrapping an arm over your shoulder and following very, very close behind you. You really did need to pee, but if Dean had something else in mind, you wouldn’t object.

Together you manoeuvred your way through the labyrinth of busy tables and ‘atmospherically’ dim hallways until you found a vestibule of doors labelled ‘la toilettes’.

Dean held you at arms-length as he poked his head through one and looked around. From what you could see, it seemed to be a single occupancy bathroom. “Score!” Dean turned to face you as he backed the rest of his body into ‘la toilette’, pulling you in with him. “Plus, no attendant, you owe me 10 bucks.”

The moment you heard the lock click behind you he pounced, arms either side of you, fingers against your scalp, caging you between his firm chest and the door. Your lips crashed together; a shiver ran up your spine as he groaned into your mouth. It wasn’t a soft kiss, it was harsh, demanding, just how you liked it. You snaked your hand under his shirt and ghosted your fingers up until they rested on his chest, there you could feel his heart beating a mile a minute.

Briefly, you felt high on the effect you had on him. The moment abruptly ended when he snatched your waist, twisting you around, and pushing you face first against the cold wood.

In this new position, you could feel the hardness of his cock pressing against your ass, instinctively you reached an arm back to rub against him.

“F-fuck.” Dean spluttered, grinding into your open palm. “You’re so sexy.”

“You’re not too bad yourself.” You replied, “But can we get a move on please.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He rasped, before sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin of your shoulder. Strong hands begin roaming your body. One hand skirts along the curves of your upper body before gliding back up, beneath your shirt, under your bra and begins squeezing at your breast. His calloused fingers pinch at your sensitive nipple, rolling it between the tips of his fingers.

His bite softens, and his tongue flicks against the tender skin before he begins to ghost his lips over your neck, kissing, licking, sucking, marking. Meanwhile, his other hand deftly works on your belt, whipping it open in no time, he nabs the hem of your jeans and yanks down, forcing them down to your knees, underwear following soon after.

You sucked in a breath and arched your back against him when you felt a finger begin running against your slit. A second finger quickly joined, and you withered at the feel of his coarse digits splitting your lips open. The heel of his palm pressed against your clit, sending a shockwave through your body, two fingers gently prodded at your entrance, but he didn’t push in straight away.

Needlessly you rocked against his hand, hoping to garner some friction against your clit, trying to sink yourself onto his fingers, but you just couldn’t quite hit the right spot.

“Dean stop!” You whined. “I need you.”

“Need me?” He chuckled, his hot breath tickling the back of your neck. You knew he had a shit-eating grin on his face, and he was lucky you were too needy to care. “Need me to what?”

“Need you inside me.” You whispered back to him, cheeks ablaze. “Need you to fuck me.”

You felt your hole slowly spread open as his fingers inched in, stretching you around them, but no sooner had it started when he halted again.

“Dean, please!” You begged, and seemingly that was exactly what he needed to hear.

Within seconds his long fingers were buried inside you. Leaving no time to adjust he started pumping in and out, scissoring your insides, while the heel of his hand massaged your sweet spot, both actions sending an unbearable pressure through your body.

It wasn’t long before he slid in a third, and you were seeing stars, panting and rutting as a tight knot surged in your core, your climax was fast approaching, tittering on the edge when Dean abruptly pulled himself from you.

An exasperated cry leaves your lips as you attempt to reach for him, to pull him back but you’re barely able to brush your fingers against his arm. Accepting failure, you spin around to face him, ready to pout at him, to demand an explanation but before you open your mouth his hands are cupping your thighs. He lifts you off your feet, forcing your arched back against the door once again. With some shuffling he managed to bring your knees up, hooking your ankles over his shoulders, his face embedded in your concealed cleavage.

“Hold still.” He instructs, balancing your weight between one hand and the door, as he makes quick work of his belt, jeans, and boxers. You bite your lip, repressing any instinct to wither or jerk as his cock springs free.

“Ready?” He asks, his half-lidded, lusty green eyes gaze up at you as he positions himself at your entrance.

“Ready, and very, very eagerly waiting.” You confirm.

You suck in a breath as he enters you all at once, relaxing his grip on your body slightly so you sink down, taking every single inch of his shaft.

“Fuck.” He shudders against your body, his eyes rolling back already. His voice to low and guttural. “You feel so good. So fucking wet.”

Hands gripped tight against the wall for support, ankles firmly angled against his shoulders, you roll your body, grinding your pussy up and down his cock. His fingers dig tight into your thighs, surely leaving bruises as he savours the feeling.

“Fuck me, Dean.” You plead, rocking on his dick once more. “Need you to fuck me.”

“How could I say no to that.” He groans, adjusting his grip on you, slipping his hands up until they’re wrapped tight around the back of your knees. He slowly leans back, sliding his cock out until only the tip remains inside, before brutally slamming back in. It doesn’t take long for him to find his pace, slow, hard, and so fucking deep.

If he registers the creak of the old wood supporting your back, he clearly didn’t care. Neither of you had really made an effort to disguise what you were doing, why start now?

You were soon twitching at the feel of each thrust, murmuring his name. You didn’t expect to last long after he’d brought you so close once already, and you were right. He rebuilt that tension almost instantly, you felt dizzy, hot and wet. Barely able to feel anything but the throbbing, burning heat between your legs. With one last strangled moan, you tightened around him as you reached your climax.

Dean soon followed behind, the feel of your cunt tightening around his dick setting him off. His muscles clenched around your body, and his pace slowed as he released inside you, grunting with each spurt.

Flushed and panting you both remained in your positions as you came back down. Cum began to seep out of you as Dean softens.

“That was….” Dean pursed his lips as he searched for the right word. A smile spreads across his lips as he seemingly finds it. “That was, awesome.”

“That was awesome.” You reiterated as you began lowering your body. Dean's firm hands steadied your feet return to the floor. He reached down to pull your jeans up for you, but you stopped him, shooing his hands away.

“I really do need to pee!” You answered his puzzled look as you waddled over to the toilet.

“Right!” He laughed, as he pulled up his own trousers. “Plus, you should always pee after sex, right?”

You nodded affirmatively as you did your business. There was something weirdly intimate actually urinating in front of your boyfriend without shame. You really did have nothing to hide, he knew every gross detail.

“We should head back out there.” You said as you finished up. Readjusting your clothes and washing your hands. “Sam will probably think we fell in or something.”

“Nah, he may look it, but he's not that dumb.” Dean joked. “He better have ordered something good, I need more than rabbit food after that.”

“Agreed! Oh, and Dean?”

“Yeah, babe?” He answered as he drapes his arm over you.

You press your head into his shoulder, looking up at him through your lashes. “Round two after dinner?”

“If I ever say no to that, I want you to shoot me.”

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x you #dean winchester smut #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural reader insert #dean winchester imagine #supernatural imagine #gilverrwrites

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bloodblanks · 7 months ago

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the sun will always rise again [kaneki ken x reader]

In an alternate timeline where despite his defeat by Arima, Kaneki retains his memories, and during his imprisonment in Cochlea, meets you instead.

author's note: this fanfiction will contain mature content, including explicit sexual acts, kidnapping, mentions of violence, and similar themes.

additional notes: this was supposed to be a yandere (prisoner 240) kaneki x reader but he turned out extremely soft. warning you right now that this is also the least sexy smut i’ve ever written and kaneki just cries for the vast majority of it. sorry in advance tehe...

please read at your own discretion.

this work has not yet been proofread.

Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.

Those words were the ones that resonated the hardest with Kaneki when he read Les Misérables, the book you lent him. After all, the nights in his cell were long, cold, and lonely. And so, to him, you were like the rising sun; the first ray of light to grace his eyes when he woke up the next day. The beam of luminescence that shone through the dense, smothering darkness shrouding his days.

Prisoner 240 was what the wardens and investigators stopping by would refer to him as. It was as if his name was forgotten, his identity erased and reduced to mere numbers. He couldn’t help but wonder if that was all he would be remembered as, when he eventually dies in this desolate, forsaken place. If he was even remembered at all, that is. More likely than not, he would just be a case file stored away in the vast archive of the CCG. And all that would remain of him—the fact that he ever existed—would be old, yellowing documents.

As time passed, Kaneki slowly began to accept that would be the harsh reality he’d endure. The bleakness of his situation and the grief weighing heavily on his heart were the source of many sleepless nights, ones where he’d ceaselessly cry, lamenting the tragedy that was his life. His eyes were not only irritated but also beginning to show signs of infection from all the scratching and rubbing he’d uncontrollably inflict. Any food that was brought to him was left untouched. He simply didn’t have an appetite. Eventually, the hunger settled into a dull ache accompanied by nausea, and he could feel his body begin to weaken, the mere act of standing up becoming straining.

“Kaneki?” It had been so long since he heard the sound of his own name, he almost didn’t recognize that you were speaking to him. It was only when you repeated his name a second time that he tentatively turned his head towards the source of the unfamiliar voice.

He momentarily felt disappointed when he couldn’t see anyone, only the heavy steel door that served to confine him. He felt foolish for thinking he would see anyone inside; the door hadn’t been opened since he arrived. Any conversations—or rather, interrogations—took place with the door in between, and any food was brought through the flap at the bottom of the door.

But then he saw the top of your head, your eyes peeking at him through the small windowpane, the knuckles of your hand softly rapping against the reinforced glass.

“Can I come in?” you asked.

He agreed.

—

Kaneki quickly learned your name. He learned that you weren’t an investigator, but rather a newly hired staff member to assist in rehabilitation. Almost like a therapist, you had explained with a soft laugh. He learned that he appreciated the sound of your laughter, the tune of your voice. It was the closest thing to music that he could hear.

He learned that you, too, liked to read. Upon the mention of literature and discovering his interest, you offered to lend him some of your books. It was the only thing someone had provided him since he was brought here, excluding the food that he didn’t have an appetite for.

“I want you to eat, though,” you had insisted. “You can’t read anything if you starve yourself to death.”

He ate. He slowly regained his strength, your company motivating him to continue getting through the days. Continue surviving in this world.

He didn’t have the ability to keep track of time, but he learned that you visited him every day in the morning, not long after he would wake up. This quickly became a routine that he would look forward to, the only thoughts on his mind before he fell asleep being ones of seeing you the next day.

It was far too late for Kaneki when he realized what he felt for you was more than just appreciation and gratefulness. More than just platonic admiration and enjoyment of mutual, shared interests. More than even just a crush; the budding blossoms of childlike adoration having already bloomed into a garden of unadulterated infatuation.

By the time he learned of his own emotions, he had already sunken too deep, drowning in a sea of longing and desire for you. Perhaps it would’ve been more accurate to describe it as quicksand—any attempts at barricading his feelings or struggling against them only served to further strengthen them. The more he thought about you, the more he thought about how he shouldn’t want you, the more he found himself miserably flailing in a bottomless pit of coveting.

“Kaneki.” You were sitting on his bed as you spoke. There wasn’t much furniture in his room, so during your interactions, you preferred to just sit on his bed. It’s not exactly professional, you had told him the first time you kicked off your shoes, sitting cross-legged on his mattress. But I don’t like to stand, and I doubt they’ll bother me about it too much, as long as I’m still doing my job. “Have you figured out what you want to do yet?”

He had been standing next to the bed as he always did. Despite the overwhelming urge to get closer to you, to sit next to you, he always held himself back. You were just doing your job, after all. While you were kind to him, it was impossible that you would genuinely care for him.

For even if only partially, he was still a ghoul.

He knew what you were referring to; you had mentioned that the CCG would like for him to join them as an investigator. It was something he was extremely reluctant about. While he didn’t inherently disagree with the CCG’s existence, he struggled with the idea of having to turn against his friends, the place he once thought of as ‘home.’ To some extent, he still considered it that, but he wasn’t sure how much of it was even left. It was a thought he tried his best not to dwell on.

While joining the CCG itself was a conflicting choice to make, there was something else that he couldn’t help but wonder, ever since you mentioned the subject.

What would happen to us?

How ludicrous of him; he was nothing but a patient to you. He couldn’t—shouldn’t—be thinking of more. The mere notion of having anything with you was something forbidden, something sinful.

And yet, simply conceptualizing his days without your company was enough to overwhelm him with a debilitating fear.

The question had been plaguing his mind ever since you first mentioned the subject. No matter how hard he tried to ignore it, the constant terror of losing you was gnawing away at the recesses of his sick, twisted mind.

It seemed as though he wasn’t the sole person feeling unsettled. As you waited for his answer, he noticed the way your gaze was more intently fixated on him than usual, the way your fingernails were anxiously picking at the skin around your thumbs.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, though as much as he should’ve, he wasn’t expecting the answer you gave him.

“You need to join them.” Your voice was low and tense, almost as if you were afraid of the words themselves. As you spoke, you averted your gaze, a visible frown forming on your usually cheerful face. “They’re getting impatient. I’ve been trying to buy you more time, but if they deem you to be useless, then...”

He didn’t need you to finish your sentence to know what you were referring to. He should’ve seen it coming, but he was too distracted by you. He foolishly blinded himself with your light, temporarily forgetting the darkness he resided in.

“What happens to us?” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself. He internally cursed himself for daring to ask such a thing. He had no right.

Still, the words had been said, and all he could do was wait for your response, the individual seconds seeming to stretch on for an eternity each.

“We might pass by each other in the offices, but other than that, I doubt we’ll be interacting much.” Your words were nothing short of dreadful to him, and he didn’t want to hear the rest of what you had to say, but he had no choice. “My work with you will be considered ‘concluded,’ and they’ll assign me another person to work with. I suppose we could speak outside of work hours, but I don’t really know enough about investigative work to say for sure. From what I’ve observed, the investigators seem pretty preoccupied with their work, and their hours seem different from mine, too... Ah, sorry for rambling,” you said with a soft laugh. What once was a pleasant melody to him now only served to increase his torment as he realized even that was being taken away from him.

The reason for him to wake up every morning. The peace he needed to fall asleep each evening. The sole ray of sunshine to grace his days of somber solitude.

Without the sun to rise back up again, would he be plunged back into the abyss?

No, he couldn’t accept that. He couldn’t accept losing the comfort of your company, he couldn’t accept losing the warmth of your smile, the chime of your laugh. He had already experienced the way the other investigators treated him, the way they looked at him. He knew what they thought of him, and he knew their opinions would never change.

You were the only one to treat him like a person. He had lost enough in his life. He couldn’t lose this—he couldn’t lose you, too.

“No,” he whispered, his body riddled with terror. “No, you can’t—”

“I’m sorry, Kaneki,” you sighed, glancing at him with a wistful smile. “I don’t have much of a say in this.”

“No,” his voice was louder this time, though you were clearly able to hear the trembling in his pitch as he spoke, for your eyes widened in surprise. And in contrast to the way his hands were shaking, his mind was made up and unwavering. “I’m sorry.”

—

Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.

That’s what Kaneki kept telling himself, repeating the words over and over in his head like a mantra. But even the sun, as majestic and benevolent as it was, was bound to burn out one day. Scientists estimated that the sun would die in about five billion years, but it felt as if the rays of light engulfing his world had already perished.

Despite the dim, dingy atmosphere in his cell, your smile had always been enough to light up the small room. Now, with the sun having set into the clouds, the sky’s vermillion tint being stained by darkness, would your presence still provide the same glowing luminescence that it used to?

Kaneki couldn’t help but ponder that question, ruminating over it again and again as he gently laid you on his bed, careful not to wake you. As much as he wanted to deny it, as much as he wanted to convince himself otherwise, all the thinking he did only brought him back to one conclusion—sunlight would no longer reach his world.

And it’s all your fault, his own mind told him. You ruined everything. Because you’re selfish. Because you’re weak. Because you’re a coward.

No, he furiously shook his head, as if trying to physically expel those thoughts from his own mind. It’s not my fault, it’s not my fault... I did what I had to do! I had no other choice!

As he finished dusting off the last of the furniture in his bedroom, he glanced up towards you. You were still asleep, your expression eerily peaceful as you rested. Almost as if this was just another evening for you. As if you were just sleeping at home. As if he hadn’t rendered you unconscious and escaped Cochlea, bringing your inanimate body back to his former apartment—an abandoned and dilapidated space.

Upon seeing the serenity displayed over your features, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt, the doubts in his mind getting louder. You’ll never see her like that again, he unwittingly told himself.

Next time she looks at you, she’ll see you for what you really are—

As soon as that thought came to his mind, he could feel his chest being set ablaze, his ribcage serving as firewood for the flames that licked at the cavity of his heart. Similar to the sensation of smoke clogging up his lungs caused the mere act of breathing to become difficult. Kaneki grasped at his own chest. The thought of digging it inside out tempted him, though he knew his efforts would be fruitless. Instead, he desperately clasped his hands over his own ears in a futile attempt to shut out his own thoughts.

No. I’m not a monster!

“—’m not, I’m not—” His words were barely coherent; a string of frantic mumbles spilling past his lips in between trembling breaths and violent gasps. The tears welling up in his eyes distorted his vision, though he paid no mind. Instead, his focus was on repeating the same phrase, as if each utterance of the statement would make it more true. “—not a monster, not a monster, not a monster—”

Then, what do you think she’ll see you as? Do you truly believe she’ll think of you the same way?

Kaneki’s hands shook incessantly, the grip of his fingers tightening as he fought to silence his own mind. Though the tears finally escaped past his waterline and splashed down his pale cheeks, his sight remained a blur, newborn teardrops continuing to glaze over his eyes as he vehemently sobbed.

“E-Even the darkest night will end,” he wheezed, the words barely able to make it past the hard lump that had formed at the back of his throat. His hands instinctively went to his eyes, harshly and hastily wiping away the tears that had left streaks down the sides of his cheeks. He forcefully rubbed at them, though the same instant he did so, the memory of all the times you comforted him—helping him calm his tears—instantly struck him, alongside the knowledge that he would likely never experience that again.

And it was all his fault.

The same phrase from the book you initially lent him was now being chanted much like a prayer, though he wasn’t sure what he was praying for, or to whom. “—and the sun will rise. Even the darkest night—”

“Kaneki?” As soon as he heard your voice, he froze. He wanted to explain himself, he wanted to beg for your forgiveness, he wanted to— “Why are you crying?”

Reminiscent of the first time you had called his name, the words once again almost failed to register. But as the seconds passed, and he finally consciously recognized what you were saying, he couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope reigniting in his chest.

Foolish, he could hear his own thoughts reverberate within the chamber of his mind. She just woke up; she clearly hasn’t realized what you’ve done. But when she does...

A fresh wave of terror washed over Kaneki’s body, the blood in his veins seemingly having turned to ice. For a moment, all he could hear was the throbbing of his own pulse, each beat seeming to send ripples through his skull. The tightness in his chest appeared to worsen, almost as if his body was a wet rag being twisted in someone’s fists. Despite his inability to form coherent sentences or will his body to move, the tears in his eyes never stopped their cascading, small puddles forming on the floor directly below his chin, where fresh droplets would splash against.

His body quaked with each sob, trembling as if the weight of his wrongdoings was simply too much to hold up.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” you asked, prompting Kaneki to finally raise his head and look directly at you. He could see you rubbing your eyelids as you propped yourself up into a sitting position, and he could see the way your gaze quickly scanned the room you were in. You definitely had realized what had happened now, and any concern you had for him was surely gone.

He wasn’t far from you—just a few feet away from the bed, a distance which he hurried to close without thinking, stumbling forward to wrap his arms around your body. His knees harshly collided against the floor as he knelt by the bed, his face buried in your sternum as he desperately clung onto you.

The words came out rushed and unfiltered as he babbled; a coalescence of anguished pleas and tormented wails.

“I’m sorry!” With his lips barely a centimetre away from the fabric of your clothes, his voice was relatively muffled, making it harder to distinguish his already garbled speech. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry! Please—” Forgive me, he wanted to say. But did he even have the right to ask for something like that? Kaneki quickly discarded the thought, taking in a sharp, quivering inhale as he started a different sentence instead. “I know what I did was wrong. I know I shouldn’t have, but... I was just so scared. I was afraid I’d lose you—”

When Kaneki felt you shifting your arm, trying to tug it out of his grip, he knew he had both irrevocably and irreparably fucked up. His grip around you loosened for a moment, the overwhelming feeling of defeat causing him to second guess himself. Maybe this wasn’t the right decision. Maybe he should’ve just suppressed his urges. He would still be able to see you around the workplace, even if it wasn’t often. He would still be able to enjoy your company, even if you never returned the extent of his feelings.

Maybe then, the sun would still rise.

“The foolish Icarus forsook his guide,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, “and, bold in vanity, began to soar, rising upon his wings to touch the skies.” Another strangled sob left his vocal cords, the following lines playing through his head. But as he neared the scorching sun, its heat softened the fragrant wax that held his plumes; and heat increasingly melted the soft wax—he waved his naked arms instead of wings, with no more feathers to sustain his flight.

“Where are you?” you mumbled, your arm slipping out from his weakened grip. “In what place shall I seek you, Icarus?”

Kaneki was still registering your words when he felt a light touch to the back of his head, the sensation instantly causing his body to tense. Of course, you couldn’t actually inflict any harm on him, but the unforeseen action still startled him. He couldn’t tell what you were doing or why you were doing it, something that made him both anxious and hopeful.

As pathetic and unrealistic as it was, he couldn’t help but hope that maybe the fact that you hadn’t pulled away yet or screamed at him meant that you wouldn’t reject him.

So, when your palm and fingers lightly smoothed down the back of his hair, not just once, but twice, three times, and continuing—the embers of yearning only intensified, his impious desires burning bright like his shame.

“There’s nothing for you to be scared of.” Your voice was so gentle, so soothing, that he could only think of one thing. I must be hallucinating. “You aren’t losing me. I’m not going anywhere.”

For a brief moment, Kaneki was rendered speechless. Everything you had just said was everything he wanted to hear, so much so that he couldn’t bring himself to believe it.

“But I—” he stammered, struggling to finish his sentence, “I—” He knew very well what he did. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to say his actions out loud, for if he didn’t, it would be easier to pretend otherwise. Though, he wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince you, or himself.

“—It’s okay,” you interrupted him, saving him from the need to finish his sentence. “I understand. I’m not upset at you.”

“You’re lying!” Kaneki shouted, his arms wrapped around you tensing with his sudden agitation. “You’re... You’re just saying that. You don’t mean it!”

He noticed the way you flinched at the sudden raise of his voice and the guilt came flooding back, as if someone had directly injected it into his bloodstream. He hadn’t meant to scare you; that was the last thing he wanted to do. As much as he coveted your acceptance and affection, he simultaneously feared it. If something seemed too good to be true, then it usually was. That lesson had cost him a lot to learn.

Despite knowing that it would be far more reasonable to doubt your words, Kaneki so desperately wanted to believe them. He wanted to believe that—even for a second—he could be forgiven. He could be cared for. He could be loved.

What a pitiful creature he was.

“I’m sorry,” And so the apologies came spilling again, a deluge of miserable excuses rushing past his lips. “I didn’t mean to scare you... I didn’t mean to...” His voice came out feeble and small, the continuous watering of his eyes sure to have soaked through the fabric of your top by now.

“This isn’t what I wanted... I just wanted to be with you. I just wanted us to be happy together. I know it’s wrong, but,” he sniffled as he lamented away, “but you’re all I have! What else was I supposed to do?”

His voice was strained with despair as he wailed, his weeping becoming louder while his breathing quickened, growing frantic as he felt that oxygen was no longer reaching his lungs. In between panicked inhales, he managed to choke out the words, “I’m so sorry...”

“It’s okay, Kaneki,” you whispered, the rhythmic feeling of your fingers stroking his hair continuing to repeat as you spoke. “Try to steady your breathing—everything is okay.”

Your words were so reassuring, so much of everything that he had ever hoped for, that he couldn’t help but seek for more.

“No, that’s not true,” he protested, wanting nothing more than to receive more validation from you. You should be ashamed of yourself, his mind said. And he was; he was deeply ashamed. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to act otherwise. Weak, his own voice replied, you can’t control your own impulses. And look what happened. “You... You really just hate me, don’t you?”

“And why would I hate you?” What left your lips was a question, but you surely knew the answer. Were you just trying to make him say it? Force him to admit what he had done wrong? Perhaps you were punishing him. But he deserved it, didn’t he?

“Because—” he croaked, trying his best to expel the words from his throat. “Because I’m a monster!”

“Kaneki,” When you said his name, he braced himself for the pain of rejection, but it never came. “You’re not a monster, and I don’t hate you.”

He had to be dreaming. He had to. But the tenderness of your hand caressing his hair, the warmth of your body held in his arms, and the lingering scent of your fragrance mixed with the dried scent of rust where some blood had accidentally splattered over you earlier that day—all of it was too vivid, too visceral to be fiction.

Moments passed with the both of you still, the only evidence that time hadn’t stopped right then and there being the steady pulse of your heart beating so close to his ears.

“If anything,” you finally spoke after some time, your voice hushed as if you were confessing your sins to a priest, “I’m kind of glad that you did this.”

Your words caused Kaneki’s eyes to snap wide open, and he lifted his head from your chest, gazing up to meet your eyes at last. His lips were already parted in a silent gasp when he spoke.

“What? Why would you be?—” His words were cut off short when your hand left the back of his head, the momentary absence worrying him until you brought it back, but this time to his face, lifting away the strands of ivory locks that had fallen in front of his eyes. He felt the flat surface of your thumb against his tear stained cheek, your finger sliding across the surface of his skin to wipe away some of the lingering wetness.

“You think you’re the only one who wants something you can’t have?” A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips, your eyes gazing directly into his with such sincerity that he struggled to maintain eye contact. The expression in your eyes was something foreign to him; he wasn’t used to having someone look at him like this.

“You don’t mean that,” he couldn’t help but demur, though his voice shook with uncertainty. What once was a mere scintilla of hope had quickly become a much larger spark, its light seeping through the cracks of his defenses. “How could you—” ever want someone like me?

But then Kaneki felt your hand trail down his face, thumb no longer against his cheek but rather his bottom lip, and his question died on the tip of his tongue, the words only ever uttered in his mind before he ceased thinking altogether. He couldn’t tell whether his heart had stopped, or if it was instead beating too fast for him to distinguish between each pulse.

“It feels nice, you know?” Your voice was nothing short of alluring, and the simple act of your finger brushing over his lip enough to send shivers down his spine and a rosy flush rising up his cheeks. The intensity of your gaze was mesmerizing, and at the same time he felt like a deer caught in headlights, unable to do anything but stare. “Being needed by someone else...”

In that moment, he could have sworn he lost the ability to comprehend language, barely even a word able to leave his lips. “But—”

“—Is it wrong of me?” you asked, your thumb still grazing over his lip. “Is it wrong of me to want you like this?”

“No, but—”

“—I need you too, you know.” You once again cut him off. “I like you. I like that I matter to you.” As you admitted that, you let out a soft laugh, the mere sound alone making his intestines tangle around the frantically beating organ that was his heart. “I suppose I’m the sick one.”

“No, I...” Fuck, his words were catching in his throat as he desperately tried to conjure up a coherent sentence. He wasn’t sure what to say; he wasn’t even sure what was going on. But he knew he wanted to insist on one thing. “You’re not sick.”

Your thumb barely flicked over the edge of his lower lip as you pulled your hand away.

“May I?” you breathed.

May I? The question echoed in his mind, and only then he realized that all of this was happening to him, and it was all real. You had just asked him to kiss. You, who were undeniably sweet and enchanting, with a smile that rivaled the luminosity of a supernova, eyelashes gracefully brushing over endless pools of compassion, and him. Him, a ghoul—a monster that feasted on the flesh and blood of your very kind, a selfish coward that plucked you out of the comfort and safety you once had, all because he was too weak to control himself.

And yet you wanted to kiss him, something utterly incomprehensible to him. But, as wrong and irrational as it was, he wanted it, too.

“I—” Kaneki found himself pathetically spluttering, trying to put his emotions into words. “I don’t deserve any of this,” he started, inhaling shakily as he tried to steady himself before continuing. “But even though I shouldn’t, I... I still want you to, if that’s okay.” His voice had become so small, barely even audible as he finished his sentence. His eyes were watering again, the conflicting feeling of his guilt battling with his desire for you enough to make him want to cry, to look away, to run—but he remained firmly in place, his eyes fixed on yours.

The first thing Kaneki noticed when you leaned in, your free hand tangling itself into the back of his hair, was that your lips were incredibly soft. The second thing he noticed, a horrific realization that dawned upon him that very second, was that he had no idea what he was doing. Although his grip around you relaxed, he had no idea where to put his hands, or what exactly he was supposed to do with his mouth—he’d never actually kissed anyone before.

He figured that closing his eyes would be a good start, which he did, attempting to make a mental note of what you were doing. It was incredibly difficult to think straight, or even at all, with the warmth of your lips against his, but he tried his best to mimic your actions, mirroring the same movements. Was he doing this right? He couldn’t tell.

When you pulled away for air, he opened his eyes once again, greeted by the sight of your smile, lips now slightly glistening.

“I doubt it’s very comfortable on the floor,” you chuckled, and to his embarrassment, he only then noticed that he’d been kneeling on the floor next to his bed this entire time. “Why don’t you come over here?” You moved to allow more room for him, patting the mattress gently in a gesture for him to sit there. He nodded, climbing onto the bed.

Now that he was on level height with you and no longer barricaded by the edge of the bed, the physical proximity between the two of you suddenly felt a lot closer. It wasn’t something that made much sense, considering how you were kissing just a minute ago, but now there was nothing separating the two of you. Even though you were sitting right next to him, he couldn’t help but want you closer. But it didn’t stop there; he didn’t know if simply holding you would be enough; he wanted to merge with your very bones—something not physically feasible, but still desirable nonetheless. The acknowledgement of his craving for something more intimate felt blasphemous to him. He had already received more than he could have ever dreamed of. More than he could have ever deserved. He should be content with just that, and yet...

The feeling of your hand on his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts temporarily, his full attention back on you as your other hand went to the parallel shoulder, swinging one of your legs over and around his so that your thighs were on top of his, straddling him.

This new position instantly caused Kaneki’s eyes to widen in shock, his body instinctively leaning away before he realized it was already pressed against the wall. Despite having been yearning for proximity, having you sit on his lap, the slight pressure of your weight, the feeling of your arms brushing against his, your face so close to his—he felt like he was burning up, as if a wildfire had spread across his cheeks. He wasn’t sure what shade of red he was blushing at this point, but this was the most flustered he ever experienced up until now, and reasonably so, with his lack of experience.

One of your hands moved to his cheek, cupping it gently as you looked directly at him—into him.

“Is this okay?” you asked, and as much as he wanted to respond, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything more than bashfully nod. His reaction appeared to worry you, as your eyebrows furrowed with concern at his response, or rather, lack thereof.

“We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, okay?” As soon as you said those words, he could feel your weight shift off of him, eliciting an instinctual reaction from him. His arms instantly wrapped around you and pulled you towards him, your chest firmly pressing into his. He could feel his fear spike, a fresh wave of terror washing over him.

She’s going to leave, his mind said. She’s going to leave. She’s going to abandon you, because you can’t do anything right.

“No!” Kaneki cried, burying his face into the crook of your neck. He could feel your pulse through your carotid artery, pulsing against his cheek with each thump of your heart. “No, don’t go! I’m sorry—”

“—It’s okay.” You didn’t try to pull away, letting him continue to embrace you as you spoke. “I’m not going anywhere, but I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“No,” he repeated himself, his voice beginning to crack as tears once again filled his eyes, leaking out onto his cheeks and splattering down against your shoulder.

So stupid, his own crying further fuelling the cauldron of hatred that was boiling over in his chest. So incompetent, he thought. She’s being nice to you, and all you do is cry.

“I’m not—” he tried to say, mustering the ability to say how he felt, despite the shame, despite the constant reminder in his mind that this was wrong. He shouldn’t be doing this with you. You were too good for him. “I’m not uncomfortable, I—”

Kaneki gulped, taking a deep breath.

“I want this,” he finally declared. He didn’t know how it was possible that you still wanted him—he was a mess. Not only did he have no idea what he was doing, he had also been pitifully crying this entire time. He was sure that this was the least attractive thing you had ever seen, and it was astonishing that you hadn’t simply lost interest by now.

“Okay,” you replied, “but just let me know if you want to stop, or anything like that.” You insisted, before adding more, “I won’t be upset.”

The reassurance you gave him was enough to have him finally loosen his grip around you, arms no longer coiled around your frame as he leaned back against the wall, a soft smile on his face as he nodded.

With that, your lips were back on his, though this time he was able to match his movements with yours, the taste of your mouth oddly pleasant as his tongue brushed against your own. Everything in the room felt hot, too hot, like someone had turned the heating to its maximum. Not only did the temperature feel like it had risen tremendously, but the sensation of your lips melting against his combined with the small shifts of your weight on his lap was also—much to his horror—causing his brain to send signals straight down to his hips. His eyes widened as he felt his own member twitch, the blood seeming to leave his head to fuel his erection instead, something that had quickly transformed from absence to demanding full attention. The weight of your body and each fraction of a movement you did gave it just enough friction for him to notice, but not nearly enough to satiate his newfound need. But as soon as that thought ended, he came to a terrible conclusion.

What if you could feel it, too?

No, he couldn’t let you notice—the act of kissing you alone was sinful; to covet this was nothing short of sacrilege.

What should I do? He wondered, frantically going through his options. Should I try to adjust our position and move her off my lap? Or should I pretend that nothing’s going on, and hope she doesn’t notice?

As he was contemplating his options, he felt you pull away, peering at him with confusion visibly written over your features.

“Is something wrong?” you inquired, causing him to realize that he was inanimate for a second too long, with how much he was caught up in his own thoughts. It had clearly taken him too long to think of a response, and he was certain his face was betraying his embarrassment, because your eyes glanced downward for a second, and that was all it took for you to put two and two together. “Oh, you—”

“I’m sorry!” Kaneki instantly blurted out, mortified at the situation. Maybe now, you’d think he was a pervert—some kind of creep. He could swear he wasn’t; he had never thought about you in this way before, and curse his body for reacting the way it did. He never imagined he would have such unwanted reactions; it wasn’t like he usually had an extremely high libido or paid much attention to such things. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he continued to apologize, “I—”

—Didn’t mean to? Shouldn’t be thinking about you this way? Don’t want to make you uncomfortable? Everything he could think of saying sounded like pathetic, miserable excuses, and was he really about to cry again?

“I didn’t say it was a problem,” you mumbled, and though you were still able to meet his gaze, he saw your eyes flicker away to the side for a moment, the hints of colour staining your cheeks deepening. Your hands cupped the sides of his cheeks again, your touch light as you touched your lips to his forehead in a gentle, reassuring kiss. “And there’s nothing for you to feel bad about.”

The kindness with which you treated him, the look of sheer adoration in your eyes—it was all too much for him. He was so undeserving of this, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to reject any of what you were offering. He couldn’t even stop himself from wanting more, knowing for himself then that greed knows no bounds.

A tear slid down the side of his cheek. When you saw it, you laughed softly, fingers swiping the small drop away.

“You know,” you started, “With how much you’re crying, I feel like I’m doing something wrong.”

“You’re not!” Kaneki was quick to disagree with your statement. It was almost absurd to him that you could possibly think you were doing anything incorrectly, and he rushed to explain otherwise. “It’s just... Is this— Is this really okay?”

He knew he was pitifully begging for your validation, eyes glancing at you in a silent plea, but it nonetheless had his heart bursting with fireworks when you replied.

“Of course,” you smiled, leaning back in to press a chaste kiss against his lips, and he was just about to kiss you back when you shifted to the side, lips touching his cheek.

As you trailed kisses down to his jaw, then his neck, he could swear each time your lips were on him it felt like molten iron, hot and searing individual marks on his skin. He had never been touched there before, and the few times he had, it was all violent bites or agonizing stabs. The contrast between those experiences and the languid, tender way your mouth gently brushed against the surface of his skin was almost jarring, but entirely, pleasantly so. Every singular action of yours—your mouth was now on his collarbone—both tickled and felt delightful at the same time, an inexplicable concoction that had him unwittingly tilting his head back to expose his throat to you, wordlessly begging for more.

You indulged him, trailing more kisses back up to the exposed flesh, this time taking the slightest bit of skin between your lips, dull teeth grazing over his neck in an entirely unfamiliar, painless way that made him whimper. Your mouth felt so incredibly, almost agonizingly warm when you took more of his flesh in, before letting go a second later, your teeth pleasurably scraping his neck all the while.

Kaneki felt one of your hands trail down to his lap, resting at his inner thigh almost reluctantly. Just close enough for him to understand what you were hinting at.

It shouldn’t have been surprising to him at this point, considering the events that had transpired leading up to this, yet he nonetheless found it hard to accept that this was all really happening. But the sensation of your mouth on his neck and the blazing heat that emanated from every spot you had graced with your touch was more than enough to render him feverish and dazed.

“Are you comfortable undressing?” The way your gaze seemed to pierce through Kaneki’s very soul made him shudder. It felt as if he was already exposed, and he decided that he enjoyed the way your eyes threatened to devour him whole. As if the eye contact alone was enough to put him in a trance, he nodded without thinking, fingers slipping underneath the waistband of his sweatpants. He was glad that he had already showered and changed before you woke up.

However, as soon as he tugged his sweatpants down an inch, revealing the hem of his underwear, he paused. He hadn’t ever undressed for anyone; not like this. He hadn’t thought about or realized it earlier, but now that he was actually doing it, he felt his characteristic shyness return.

“I— I’ve never—” He was practically squeaking when he choked those words out. The urge to bury his face in his hands, or hide himself in some way or another, was overwhelming.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, gingerly pressing your lips to his cheek once again. The way you touched him was so light, all your movements feathery and barely skimming the surface of his skin. As if he was something fragile and frail—as if you were the one afraid of breaking him. “Do you want me to stop?”

Kaneki shook his head.

“No, I don’t want you to stop,” he mumbled, before adding an apology, “I’m sorry...”

“What are you sorry about?” you laughed, pressing another kiss to his cheek, this time firmer. As you finished your sentence, you ran your fingers over the form of his member, and despite the two layers of clothing that separated you, Kaneki’s breath instantly hitched.

The sensation was almost too much for him, a feeling he wasn’t used to experiencing before, not from someone else’s hand. Though he couldn’t even remember the last time he had touched himself; Cochlea’s cells did not exactly have a sensual atmosphere.

At the same time, it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t even close to enough. He wanted—needed—more, his fervent desire temporarily overshadowing his bashfulness.

As your fingers hooked onto the edge of underwear, seemingly intent on taking both articles of clothing off at once, he reached for his pants, gently lifting his hips up as he helped you undress him. His eyes were averted to the side as he undressed, though a quick glance revealed how hard he was, his cock begging for attention, small drops of pellucid fluid already leaking from the glistening, pink tip.

“I don’t understand why you would want to do this,” he muttered, still unable to meet your eyes.

“I’d say it’s probably the same reason that you’re hard right now.” Before he could conjure up a response, he felt your fingers on his length, and all coherent thoughts left his head, replaced by a strangled gasp.

The feeling of your fingers slowly wrapping around his erection, gently lifting it up and away from his abdomen was something that seemed to light up nerves that had previously not existed. He tried to take a breath to steady himself, but as soon as his lips parted, he felt a small, experimental stroke. What left his mouth was instead a trembling moan, the possibility of regaining his composure instantly dissipating with the next movement of your hand. Each pump of his cock—your hand feeling inhumanly warm around it—seemed to send a fresh wave of electricity through his body, and within seconds, he found himself reduced to nothing but whimpers. Each sound he made was higher pitched and whinier than the last.

“Does this feel okay?” Kaneki heard you ask, causing him to turn his attention back onto you.

“Ah—” he mewled as your thumb brushed against the back of his tip. You beamed at his reaction, seemingly pleased with yourself.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then,” you said. As he looked at you, glanced from the way your fingers were gliding up and down his length, then upwards to the surrounding area of your collarbones, he couldn’t help but feel bothered by the sight of your clothing. The fabric that was previously insignificant and meaningless to him was now something frustrating, and he longed to see how your skin looked underneath. His desire for you appeared to be a bottomless pit, an abyss that he continuously fell deeper in, with no end in sight. He wasn’t sure if it’d be okay to ask you something like that or not. On one hand, you had been astonishingly fine with everything occurring up until now, but on the other—

“Hng—” The way you tightened your grip wasn’t lost on him, the heat pooling in his groin threatening to overflow. He could tell he was already close, too close, but—as much as he should just be satisfied with this—he wanted more.

“Ah— I—” He could barely think, let alone speak, each stroke of your hand like a bolt of lightning, something igniting every circuit in his brain so much so that they were frying. “I don’t want to—” he desperately tried to speak before it was too late, “not yet—”

Your hand quickly came to a stop, and your fingers left his throbbing cock, now aching for release more than ever before.

“Do you want to do something else?” you asked him. He took a second to catch his breath before responding, nodding earnestly as he gathered up his courage to admit what he wanted.

“I-I want to make you feel good too,” he stuttered, his resolve dissolving as fast as it materialized. “If that’s... not too much to ask for.”

“Of course not,” you answered, not seeming apprehensive at all, something that had Kaneki’s heart fluttering, like it was a small creature of its own that had grown legs and wings and was seeking to break free from the constraints of his ribcage. “I’d love to, should I...” For the first time, you appeared just as bashful as he was, your eyes diverting to the side as you spoke. “Should I get undressed?”

He hesitated for a moment, unsure if it was really okay to ask you something like this.

“If you don’t mind,” he finally said.

You were still avoiding his gaze as you slid your top off, the rest of your clothing following soon after. He remained unmoving, simply taking in the sight before him with utter awe and admiration.

The sight of your body and bare skin was nothing short of entrancing; Kaneki could only stare at you with utter awe and admiration. With each piece of fabric that was put to the side, you showed him parts of yourself that he never imagined he’d see. And all of it was stunning.

Your skin looked so smooth, so dewy—he longed to feel it against his own—and your body perfectly shaped, each dip and curve too ethereal to not have been sculpted by the hand of a deity. Someone as flawless and divine as you could not be anything but a gift from the gods themselves.

But the gods would never give something so good to a monster like him. His desire for you went deeper than skin and flesh, a craving that was nestled deep within the marrow of his bones. Yet he felt paralyzed. The thought of this being likened to desecration kept him from reaching out towards you.

“How long are you planning to stare at me for?” you chuckled, taking his hand in yours and bringing it to your chest. Your flesh rested in the palm of his hand as he tentatively squeezed, his eyes instantly enlarging. Just from looking at you, he already knew how lovely and delicate you were, but not even his imagination could measure up to how soft everything was.

“I-I—” Kaneki tried to find the right words; it only felt appropriate to say something and not be completely silent. He settled on something simple, unable to quite find the words to perfectly express his thoughts. “You’re so... so pretty.”

This time, when you replied, you looked off to the side, almost seeming embarrassed. “Thank you,” you smiled, before returning the compliment. “So are you.”

The oxygen in his lungs was instantly depleted when you crawled back over his lap, a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself, the other on his member, eliciting a needy whine from him.

“Is this really okay?” Kaneki couldn’t stop himself from asking one last time, just to ensure that you were certain about doing this. “Are you sure you want to do this?” With me, he thought.

But you already know her answer, his own mind scoffed. You just want to hear her say it. You just want her to lie to you, and tell you that you’re not a mon—

“I’m sure,” you replied, unknowingly having interrupted his internal monologue. “Do you want to?”

Of course, he thought, but what came out instead was something different. “Do I— Do I really deserve something like this? Do I really deserve to feel this good, this happy? A monster like me...”

“Kaneki,” Your voice was firm. “You’re not a monster, and even if you were, I’d still love you.”

He didn’t know how long exactly it was, but he knew that he spent a long time simply processing those words.

“Can—” It was as if his tongue had tied itself into knots upon knots. He could barely speak, too astonished by your words to formulate coherent words. “Can you say that one more time?”

“Kaneki,” you repeated his name. He knew he was being desperate, he was being pathetic and needy; he didn’t care. Not when he could audibly hear those words that he had always—despite knowing that he shouldn’t—hoped for. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he breathed, “and... I want this with you.”

Your eyes bore into his very being, and he maintained eye contact this time, affectionately holding your gaze. He could see the dusting of coral in your flushed cheeks, your slightly parted lips that he never wanted to stop kissing, the way your eyelashes framed your irises so gracefully, and your smile, brighter than any quasar.

It felt as if he, himself, had fallen into a galaxy’s glowing core when your body enveloped his own. He felt your walls wrapping around his cock as you slowly lowered yourself, ensheathing the entirety of his length in your warmth, your thighs once again resting on top of his.

His eyes snapped shut for a moment as he tried to steady himself, desperately drawing in breaths. The blazing warmth engulfed everything. Every point of contact between the two of you was a convergence of intense, sweltering heat and eternally detonating fireworks. The sensations were overwhelming. His senses were so heightened that the stimulation was far much more than he could handle; the signals that each miniscule movement sent demanded every last ounce of attention from his overloaded brain. His body practically recoiled at the slightest touch, as if it were a live wire waiting to be shocked.

When his eyes opened again, he saw you sheepishly grinning at him, one of your hands on his shoulder and the other on the back of his neck.

“Okay?” you asked. Kaneki nodded.

You gently rocked your hips against his, every move causing a newborn wave of pleasure to wash over him. Strings of whimpers and whines left his lips as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in closer to him. Your chest was firmly pressed against his, his laboured breathing tickling the nape of your neck with each staggering exhale.

“Mm, Kaneki,” You stilled your hips momentarily as you spoke. He could feel your hands leave his upper body and tug at the sides of his shirt instead. “Take this off.”

He nodded quickly and briefly released his grip on you, hastily removing the last article of clothing that separated the two of you and throwing it aside. As soon as he did, he felt your hands on his back, just underneath his shoulder blades. He mirrored the action, the both of you pulling each other close until your bodies were flush against one another’s, skin touching skin.

Amidst his own sounds, he heard the melodic sounds of pleasure you made as you continued to move against him, your hips shifting back and forth. Each sway of your hips caused more parts of his brain to light up like a circuit board, and despite his mind resembling the brightly lit city of Tokyo with its blinding lights—he was at the same time seeing stars.

“Does this feel good?” you asked. You leaned in closer, your lips ghosting over his but not quite touching yet.

“It feels...” he whined as he spoke, “You feel amazing—”

You smiled before pressing your lips to his. He shut his eyes as he leaned into the kiss, the heat emanating from your mouth made his own melt. He was no longer sure if he was devouring you or the other way around, but that was of little significance as you hungrily kissed him back.

Kaneki’s hands slid down your back, coming to a halt near the bottom of your thighs, his fingers grasping at the soft curve that connected your hips to your legs.

“Is this okay?” he broke apart from the kiss momentarily to ask. His fingers were digging into the soft, delicate flesh of your backside.

“Yes,” you gasped, “it’s okay.” Your lips collided once more.

The starvation with which your lips danced together was nothing but pure, unadulterated desire. A coveting so strong that neither of you could resist submitting to it—something so powerful that it dominated even the dark recesses of his mind.

It’s okay, you had said. It’s okay. The usual noise occupying his mind finally quieted down, your words causing the constant onslaught of fear to subside. Your flesh fit nicely in his palms as he lifted you up slightly, grinding his hips into yours, his apprehensions at last dissipating. His movements were frantic, his hips desperately jerking up and against yours as he moved you alongside the length of his cock.

Maybe just for a second, Kaneki could allow himself to believe that this really was okay. That even if he didn’t deserve what he had, it was alright for him to accept it, nonetheless.

And maybe just for a second, he could stop thinking about any of that. None of it mattered then, because all he had to do was permit himself to be immersed in the present moment. All he had to do was immerse himself in the softness of your lips fused with his, the warmth of your hands affectionately held onto his skin, the rapid thump of your pulse pressed so tightly to his bare chest that he could feel your heartbeat, and the coalescence of your bodies intertwined—each passionate roll of his hips against yours sending shockwaves through his body.

When the final tides of fire licked their way through his bloodstream and his world became an incandescent brilliance, he was helpless to do anything but cry out your name. Somewhere in the background, he could hear you doing the same, his name exquisitely rolling off your tongue.

As the white, hot radiance slowly began to fade into the softer iridescence of a nebula, he could feel the moisture of the sweat glistening upon both your bodies and hear the sound of your ragged, panting breaths as he returned to mortality.

Kaneki’s body was unbearably warm, but despite the way your body heat almost painfully engulfed his flesh, he found the feverish state you both basked in to be oddly cathartic. Your heart was still forcefully pounding in your chest, as was his, the sound of flowing blood loudly ringing in his ears. Your body was slumped against his, entirely limp and fully resting on him. Despite his exhaustion, he wrapped his arms around your torso, holding you closely.

He could feel your lulling caress as you stroked his hair once again, gently smoothing it over as the two of you shared a moment of serenity, the only sounds audible being your breathing.

When you finally pulled away from him, pushing yourself up, you began to giggle. Just as he was about to ask you what was so funny, you spoke.

“What are you crying for, now?” You brushed your damp hair out of your eyes. Kaneki, too, laughed, shaking his head as he responded.

“I’m just really happy,” he smiled, another tear escaping the corner of his eye and dripping down his cheek.

“Right,” you chuckled, laying down on his bed and stretching your body out. “Come here. I’m tired.”

Kaneki nodded, moving to lay down beside you. He pulled the blankets up to cover your body, before crawling underneath the covers to nestle himself by your side.

His hand ghosted over the side of your cheek as he moved the stray hairs out of your face. He watched your eyes close as he ran his fingers through your locks, stroking your hair in the same tender manner that you did for him. The gentle petting of your hair continued while he watched any remaining tension beneath your eyelids dissolve with your slumber, only stopping the repeated movement when he was sure that you were sleeping soundly.

Kaneki took in your peaceful expression one last time prior to closing his eyes, etching the sight of your features into his mind as a permanent engraving. Just before he allowed the fatigue to take over, his thoughts came to one resolute finality.

He would protect you.

As much as he wanted to keep living in blissful ignorance, he knew that it was only a matter of time before the CCG would raid his apartment in search of him. Even though he loved you dearly and wanted to keep you by his side, he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to do so. And so, when the time eventually comes, it would be his turn to protect you—like you had protected him every single previous time—be it through taking other lives, or sacrificing his own.

Because even the primal fear of death pales in comparison to his fear of losing you.

He knew that it was entirely possible for this apartment to be raided in the dead of the night, with investigators coming to save you from the monster everyone besides you believed him to be. He was sure they would think of you as a victim; you hadn’t even been conscious when he brought you away.

As Kaneki fell asleep, he came to one final conclusion. Even though this rest may be his last, even though he may never wake up again, even though the darkest night may never end—he could accept that.

For as long as you exist, the sun will always rise again.

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susicheng · 13 days ago

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𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ dm for prices l.mk

chapter 13 kissy kissy

warning: this chapter contains implied sexual content, including a semi-suggestive build up to the implied sexual content

a knock on the door. a hesitant sound, one that really screamed “mark.” it shouldn’t have made your heart race the way it did. when you opened the door, his breath hitched. you wore that familiar look—equal parts guarded and hurt—but there was still warmth in your eyes, even if it was buried beneath layers of doubt. mark’s heart ached at the sight of you, and he swore to himself that he wouldn’t let this spiral out of control.

“hey,” he said softly as you stepped aside to let him in.

“hi,” you replied, your tone neutral but tinged with weariness.

mark stood in your apartment, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets as he glanced around nervously. the cozy warmth of the space contrasted sharply with the tension in the air. he didn’t know if you’d really hear him out. he couldn’t blame you if you didn’t. he’d already messed things up so badly. but he trusted that you had told the truth when you’d said you were prepared to listen.

for a moment, neither of you spoke, the sound of the city outside filling the space between you. finally, mark broke the silence.

“thanks for letting me come over. i… i know i owe you an explanation.”

you folded your arms, leaning against the wall as you kept your expression steady. “i’m listening.”

mark exhaled sharply, his breath shaky despite the warmth of the room. “jaemin… he’s someone from my past, someone who… well, things ended messy with us. i thought i’d moved on, but when he came back, it threw me off.” he paused, searching your face for any sign that you believed him. “but it’s over. whatever jaemin wanted, it’s not something i can give him. not anymore.”

your gaze softened, but your stance remained firm. “then why did it feel like he still had a hold on you?”

mark winced, your words hitting a nerve. “because he used to. and maybe part of me hadn’t fully let go until now. but being around you… you’ve shown me what it feels like to want something real, something healthy. i’m not going to let jaemin take that away.”

you looked down, your fingers playing with the edge of your sleeve. “it’s hard to believe that when it felt like he could just call you and take your attention.”

mark took a step closer, his voice steady but filled with urgency. “you have my attention. you’ve always had it. jaemin… he’s not anything more than a fragment of my past, okay? and i should’ve been stronger, should’ve handled things better that day. but i don’t want him. i want you.”

your heart skipped a beat at the intensity in his eyes. for the first time, you saw the vulnerability beneath his usual confidence, the raw honesty he was laying bare.

“mark…” you whispered, unsure of what to say.

“please,” he continued, stepping even closer. he hesitated, as if afraid of pushing too far. “tell me what i can do to fix this. i’ll do anything. i can’t lose you over something like this.”

you looked up at him, your resolve wavering as his sincerity pierced through the walls you’d put up. “i just… i need to know that you’re sure. that you’re not still tangled up in the past.”

mark didn’t hesitate. “i’m sure. more sure than i’ve ever been about anything.”

his hand reached out tentatively, brushing against yours. when you didn’t pull away, he took it as a sign and intertwined his fingers with yours. the warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt your defenses crumbling.

“you mean so much to me,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “i don’t want to mess this up. tell me you believe me. tell me you…”

before he could finish, you closed the distance between you, your lips pressing against his. mark froze for a fraction of a second before melting into the kiss, his arms wrapping around you as if anchoring himself to the moment. the world around you blurred, the tension forgotten as heat blossomed between you.

the kiss deepened, his hands sliding up to cup your face as he poured every ounce of his emotions into it. you felt the tension in his body, the desperation and relief mingling as he held you closer. when you finally pulled back, your breath mingling in the warm air, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes searching yours for reassurance.

“does that mean…” he started, his voice barely above a whisper.

you nodded, a small smile breaking through. “i’m willing to try. but no more surprises, mark.”

“no more surprises,” he promised, his lips brushing against your forehead.

“we’re not official until you win me over with a real date, though.” you pulled back to level him with a serious look, being met only with his laughter.

“yes ma’am. i’ll plan a date more romantic than anything you could ever dream up.”

the moment lingered, the two of you wrapped in each other’s arms, the quiet hum of your apartment a witness to your reconciliation. the air between you felt electric, charged with unspoken possibilities and the fragile hope of starting anew.

mark’s hands drifted lower, resting on your waist as he gazed at you with a mix of longing and tenderness. “i missed you,” he murmured, his voice husky. his fingers traced slow, deliberate circles against your sides, sending a spark of warmth coursing through you.

“i missed you too,” you admitted, your voice barely audible as your gaze flickered to his lips. he caught the movement, his lips curling into a faint, knowing smile.

“can i?” he whispered, his breath ghosting against your cheek. you didn’t need to ask what he meant. you answered by pulling him closer, your lips meeting his again in a kiss that was slower, more deliberate, yet no less consuming.

his touch grew bolder, his hands sliding up your back and pulling you flush against him. the uncertainty from earlier faded entirely as the heat between you built, your heart racing as his lips trailed from your own to the curve of your jaw, then lower to the sensitive skin of your neck. your breath hitched, and you clung to him, your fingers threading through his hair as he pressed a series of lingering kisses there.

“you��” he began, his voice thick with emotion as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. “you mean everything to me.”

the weight of his words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken promises and the kind of yearning that felt impossible to ignore. you leaned into him, your forehead brushing his as your lips met once more, the connection between you deepening with each passing second, the world around you forgotten.

mark’s hands slid under the hem of your shirt, his fingertips brushing against your skin with a featherlight touch that sent a chill down your spine. his eyes locked onto yours, silently asking for permission as his breath grew uneven. when you nodded, his lips captured yours again, this time with a hunger that matched the intensity burning between you. his hands roamed your sides, pulling you even closer until there was no space left between you, the heat building with every passing moment. the atmosphere thickened, every movement, every touch charged with anticipation, as if the world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you in this electrifying, intimate moment.

previous ꩜ .ᐟ next ꩜ .ᐟ masterlist ꩜ .ᐟ

⊹₊⟡⋆ mel's corner: wrote this while looping baekhyun delight album.. 10/10 experience i highly recommend

#: @hyuksworld @gela0205 @cyjzzl @mmjhh1998 @injvns @222brainrot @kittydollzz @tadadw @t-102 @sunghoonsgfreal @slayhaechan @nctrawberries @ryuvrsie @ttjisung @ddolbyong @purezitas @jae-n0 @ballsa420 @remgeolli @fullsungss @peterm4rker @autumngirlchim @holyhaech @njmluvr @choizzn @sewergirlfriend @ddolleri @toroufriteh @pickmedolls @haechansssun @yizhrt @haesluvr @ilovebtsomgie @seulpinkk @haechology @ant-onie @xuyiyang @alwahyeonie @nahyuckers @jich3nle @fae-renjun @jeongintwt

#nct #nct dream #nct smau #nct x reader #mark nct #mark x reader #mark x you #mark #mark lee #mark smau #mark lee smau #mark lee x you #mark lee nct #mark lee x reader

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wannabespacesmuggler · 2 years ago

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D.D. | Shane’s Girl [1]

Part One | Masterlist | Buy me a coffee | Check out the playlist

Summary: Daryl Dixon knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you when he’s alone at night in his tent. Hell, he shouldn’t even be looking at you throughout the day. You’re not his. You’re Shane’s girl. But Daryl doesn’t like the way Shane treats you. And he certainly doesn’t like how you're forced to play ‘loving girlfriend’ to a man with eyes for another woman at the camp.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Merle Dixon being Merle Dixon, Shane Walsh isn’t great either tbh

Word Count: 1K

Author’s Note: This has been sitting in my google docs just collecting ~metaphorical~ dust. I was going to put all the parts into one very long one shot, but instead, decided against it because I really, really like what I’ve written so far and feel that some feedback can help cure the writer’s block plaguing me. Let me know what you guys think.

Extras: Playlist

Daryl Dixon didn’t think much of you and Shane when he first joined the ragtag team of survivors at the quarry, but he’s an observant man and Shane is anything but subtle.

It all started a few weeks after the world ended. Everyone was still recoiling from what they had seen and heard on their way to Atlanta, but they were trying to continue living. Shane was attempting to establish order in the makeshift camp. The women were charged with cooking, cleaning the laundry, and looking after the kids while the men were sent out to scavenge and hunt -- except for Dale, who spent most of his days working on his bucket of rust, and Shane, who has taken a liking to his newfound leadership and decided to become the watchful protector of the camp. Daryl thinks it’s a pretty backward way of thinking -- it’s the end of the world and we’re still worried about maintaining gender norms -- but who is he to argue?

It was one of the rare days Daryl wasn’t off on a hunting trip when you first piqued his interest. He was skinning the last of the squirrels he’d brought back from his latest hunting trip and Merle just had to open his mouth when you walked by.

“Hey,” Merle’s voice cut through the quiet conversations being had. Everyone’s eyes turned to him, including yours. “Why don’t you keep old Merle here company?”

Your eyes shift quickly to Daryl, who was trying to make himself look busy with the squirrel in his lap, before returning to Merle. You put your hands on your hips defiantly before answering.

“Looks like you’ve already got yourself some company, Merle.”

You motion toward Daryl while speaking. Daryl has to fight the grin that’s pulling his lips. He was expecting you to be like Lori -- quiet and submissive when the men are talking. But here you are, prepared to take on Merle Dixon all by yourself. He supposes he’s gotta respect that, even though he knows your answer is just going to rile Merle up more. Still, you’re here, standing up for yourself, which is more than he’s seen from others in the group.

“What, you mean Daryl? C’mon sweetheart, he’s not much fun to talk to or look at.”

It’s the end of his sentence that has you turning to look toward Shane, who is once again sitting on top of the RV, a rifle in one hand and a canteen in the other. You’re hoping that Shane will look over and come to your aid. You certainly don’t need rescuing, but the support of your boyfriend would be nice right now. However, you’re met with nothing as Shane’s eyes never meet yours. You roll your eyes and turn back to Merle.

Daryl watches you, squirrel in his hands forgotten for the moment. He can see the frustration on your face as you turn around, obviously not pleased with the fact that Shane is not paying attention to you in the slightest. However, despite your frustration, you don’t back down.

“I’d rather look at him than you any day.”

He knows you’re just saying that to get to Merle, but Daryl still ducks his head to hide the blush that spread across his cheeks due to your words. He quickly brushes the thought of there being even the slightest possibility that your eyes have wandered over to him during the past few weeks aside when Merle stands up. Daryl knows his brother and based on the look on his face, you’ve pissed Merle right off. This is bad news for everyone.

Daryl stands as well, a hand already reaching out to stop Merle from advancing toward you. Merle swats Daryl’s hand away roughly. The action makes Daryl take an immediate step back, head ducking down again.

“Don’t touch me!”

Merle’s raised voice seems to have finally gotten Shane’s attention.

“Woah, woah, woah. What’s going on here?”

Daryl lifts his head in time to see Shane make his way to your side. He places a hand on your shoulder as you continue your seething staring match with Merle. You’re about to brush off the encounter and tell Shane not to worry about it, when Merle opens his mouth again.

“You better muzzle your bitch.”

And that’s when all hell broke loose. Shane launches toward Merle, yelling unintelligibly. You are quick to grab Shane off of Merle and Daryl follows your lead, pulling Merle back. Eventually, you and Daryl are able to wrangle Merle and Shane away from one another. You still have both your hands on Shane’s chest when he begins shouting again.

“You stay away from my girl. You hear me? You don't talk to her. If I see you even look at her, she won’t be able to stop me. Both of you.”

Shane’s eyes move from Merle to Daryl and the look in his eyes is ice cold, it damn near almost sends a shiver down Daryl’s spine. Daryl nods as Merle continues to struggle against him. Seemingly content with the response, Shane wraps an arm around your shoulders and begins moving you away from them. You spare Daryl a brief, apologetic glance before allowing Shane to drag you toward the RV.

Daryl pushes down the knot developing in his stomach as he watches Shane manhandle you. His hold is less protective and more possessive. It seems much less like he came to defend you from some unwanted attention and much more like he came over just to take back what’s his.

He shakes his head -- physically trying to rid himself of the thoughts ricocheting in his head. It’s not like he can do anything anyway. Shane made it crystal clear that you are off-limits -- and who is he to argue?

#twd #The Walking Dead #walking dead #daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #Rick Grimes #shane walsh #merle dixon #glenn rhee #lori grimes #the walking dead imagine #walking dead imagine #Norman Reedus #norman reedus imagine #norman reedus x reader

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lynlee494 · 7 months ago

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Winterhawk Community Sourced Recommendations, A Master List

This post is a long time coming, but finally I’ve finished a master list from when this fandom really helped me out.

The original post is here:

^ Just in case I have forgotten or skipped over a recommendation, or if more are added in the comments since making this post.

My original plea for help was, for context on the type of recommendations you may find (though delightfully, there are others mixed in):

‘I'm looking for Winterhawk fic recommendations.

Ones where Clint finds/meets the WS (as either Hawkeye or an AU Clint, not picky)

Or ones where it is Winterhawk with a Hurt Bucky or Bucky in Distress kind of vibe.

AU or otherwise, even if it is a full on Clint/Bucky AU.’ I also had asked simply for favorite authors and favorite stories. The answers were plentiful and wide spreading, and I’m still making my through (I am a multishipper as long as one of ‘em is Bucky Barnes – welcome to my hyper fixation. So I jump around).

So, in thanks to so many who took time to dig for the recommendations, I wish to spread the love and make it easier to view what others took the time to dig up for me. It really did help. ❤️

I tried to make it easy and may have gone overboard, but hopefully ‘Ctrl-F’ or copy + pasting the text because I typed this out instead of using image snips (oh my gods the time this whole thing took) makes it easier to search tags.

Hopefully this helps others, and so now, organized for all our reading pleasure: A special thanks to sunny-rants for jumping in to give recommendations sooo fast!

*Please note: I have included tags, but not pairings, for times sake. All the stories are Winterhawk, and I believe there was a Clint/Bucky/Steve as well. *I also did not include archive warnings, etc. so please review the tags at your own risk.

*Also, cause I’m absolutely shameless, if you want to include anymore recs, that would be amazing… just putting that out there. Also, don't worry if you think it may be a repeat, I can always sort it out/organize later. (wink, wink: got any bottom Bucky, angst, long fics, AUs (current fav)? Clint taking care of Bucky etc.?)

'Keep Reading' for the recommendations bestowed upon me in an hour of need, along with summary, tags, and wordcount

Clint Barton's Super Secret Snipers' Club by sara_holmes

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3889561/chapters/8697424

Summary:

Clint Barton's Super Secret Snipers' Club. (Invitation and pending mental health evaluation required.)

"When Steve brings Bucky back to the tower for the first time, Clint’s first thought is that Tony Stark’s pride and joy is quickly becoming a less of a very tall and expensive ‘fuck you’ in the faces of investors who don’t believe in self-sustaining energy, and more of a superhero rehabilitation center."

Tags: Discussion of Canon Child Abuse; Discussion of Canon Brainwashing; Seizures; Epilepsy; Fluff; SHIELD Agent Clint Barton; Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes; Strike Team Delta (Marvel); Sharing a Bed; Sharing Body Heat; Stranded; Slow Burn Word count: 67k+

(rec by tumblr: @sunny-rants)

___________________

Outnumbered by sara_holmes

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7954669

Summary:

Bucky Barnes returns to Brooklyn ready to get back into the world, make friends and sleep with Steve's super hot neighbor. The fact that the guy turns out to be a single dad to two-year-old triplets who spend most of their time causing mischief, trouble and mayhem doesn't deter Bucky at all. Steve would like it on record that he thinks Bucky is insane.

Tags: Kid Fic; Parent Clint Barton; Triplets; Post-Recovery Bucky Barnes; Steve Is a Good Bro; Bucky comes home to New York; Single Dad Clint Barton; Deaf Clint Barton; Bucky Barnes Feels; PTSD RECOVERY; Happy Bucky Barnes; Kids; Alternate Universe - No Powers; Clint Barton is terrible at relationships; Insecure Clint; Happy Ending

Word count: 18k+

(rec by tumblr: @effervescentaardvark)

___________________

Play It Again by sakkakitty

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15206579/chapters/35269208

Summary: After a mix-up in a Hydra base, Bucky Barnes finds himself transported to the 21st century.

Tags: Not Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant; Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant; Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant; WinterHawk Big Bang 2018; Time Travel; Pre-Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes; Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes; Deaf Clint Barton; Canon-Typical Violence; Background Stony – Freeform

Word count: 100k+

(rec by tumblr: @sunny-rants)

___________________

Nobody Lost, Nobody Found by ClaraxBarton

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15634884/chapters/36306264

Summary:

"Look, dude, I get it. You’re fucked-up. HYDRA fucked you up. I’ve been there. But you’re my fucking Soul Mate!"

“I can kill you. I could kill you without even realizing what I was doing. I’m not fucked-up, I’m a monster. I’m a nightmare. You can’t be here. You can’t- All the people I’ve killed- I will not murder my Soul Mate too. Not after everything else I’ve-”

Clint worked his left hand between their bodies and managed to land a punch to the man’s right side, forcing him to shift his weight, and Clint brought his right hand down on the place where the man’s metal arm met his torso - hidden by the shirt he wore, but on full display in the video Clint had watched.

The man released Clint with a grunt of pain, and Clint pressed his advantage, landing another punch to his abdomen, backing him up against the opposite side of the RV and then pressing the kitchen knife he had pocketed while cleaning up earlier to the man’s throat.

“Like I said, I’m not a Boy Scout. I’m plenty dangerous myself. We clear on that?”

OR:

This looks bad, because it is.

OR:

How Clint Barton met his Soul Mate

Tags: Soulmates; Soul Bond; winterhawk – Freeform; Slow Burn; No I mean the slowest of burns; Canon-Typical Violence; canon divergent/canon meandering starting with Age of Ultron; Smut; eventually I swear; Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier; Angst; Feelings; Clint Barton Needs a Hug; Bucky Barnes Feels; Steve Rogers Needs a Hug; BAMF Clint Barton; BAMF Natasha Romanov; Oral Sex; Frottage

Word Count: 108k+

(rec by tumblr: @sunny-rants)

___________________

Choose Every Single Day by Noxnthea

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28708083/chapters/70385346

Summary:

Clint has once again been wrangled into doing something because Natasha thinks it’ll be good for him; he’s not sure why she thinks she needs therapy too, but he knows better than to question her logic at this point.

Bucky’s doubtful that group therapy is going to do much for his crippling sense of self-loathing (and to be honest, he really doesn’t want the help), but Steve’s convinced it will be beneficial for both of them to learn to deal with the mistakes from their past.

None of them ever expected to have to deal with secret government organizations, eccentric billionaires, or unwanted super powers on top of their personal problems, but then, they are already paying Sam.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting; TherapyCanon-Typical Violence; Clint Barton's low self-esteem; Sam Wilson is a Saint; Everyone Needs A Hug; Deaf Clint Barton; Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot; Group Therapy; Slow Burn; seriously the slowest this is a fic first and foremost about individual growth; Found Family; Misunderstandings; Getting Together; wanda maximoff is everyone's little sister

Word count: 103k+

(rec by tumblr: @sunny-rants)

___________________

Gold On Your Fingertips by Kangofu_CB

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21434821/chapters/51074443

Summary:

“So,” he said, unwrapping the foil of the bar, “I’m Clint.”

The Soldier just blinked at him, caught somewhere between confused and surprised.

Which, fair, Clint got that a lot.

But he figured the Soldier hadn’t expected him to acquiesce so quickly, and Clint fully intended to capitalize on that, either in information or opportunity to escape or both.

He flashed a half-smile at the other man, one he’d flashed at a dozen other people in the last few years, one that got him a second look at least seventy percent of the time, and a quickie a fairly significant portion of that. He stretched his arms up over his head and cracked his spine, working the stiffness out of the shoulder that had, until ten seconds ago, been shackled to the furniture.

“This is the part where you tell me your name.” Clint said. “Or something to call you by,” he amended.

Or: Clint meets his soulmate.

Tags: Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes; Circus Performer Clint Barton; baby criminal clint barton; Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence; Not Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant; or anything after that either; Alternate Universe – Soulmates; Soulmates; Soulmate-Identifying Marks; Kidnapping; Deaf Clint Barton; Breaking and Entering; Voyeurism; Exhibitionism; Masturbation; wow that escalated quickly; Himbo Clint Barton; Diners; Bucky Barnes Recovering; Bucky Barnes Remembers; On the Run; Canon-Typical Violence; Shooting Guns; bad guys die etc etc; minor descriptions of wounds and wound care; barney barton sucks you can't change my mind; so does Trickshot; hydra also sucks; getting in a brawl with the Avengers was a bad idea; it's not Clint's fault; except for how it kind of is; Protective Clint Barton; Competent Clint Barton; Rutting; Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm; Disappointed Steve Rogers; but he gets over it; eventually; bad jokes and worse ideas; hey kids who wants to be an avenger?

Word count: 27k+

(rec by tumblr: @sunny-rants)

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Like Real People Do by Kangofu_CB

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15937667/chapters/37163564

Summary:

And now Steve had brought him home like a goddamn found puppy he wanted to keep.

“What the fuck, Rogers?” Clint asked, his hands itching for a bow, a gun, an anything, but not stupid enough to make any sudden moves. There was no way to casually reach for the pistol he’d tucked into the back of his jeans, not with Steve so close and the Winter Soldier so unkillable.

“He’s not the Winter Soldier,” Steve said in a rush of expelled air, reading the tension in Clint’s arms correctly. “He’s Bucky Barnes.”

Either there were two silver-armed motherfuckers running around - and Clint could believe anything at this point - or this situation was even more bizarre than he’d first thought. And he knew bizarre. He’d been part of a circus.

A love story involving Billboard's Top 100, chopping firewood, and not looking like incognito serial killers when out on the town.

Tags: Cabin Fic; Tropes; Slow Burn; or at least my version of it; learning to be people again; sniper assassin courtship rituals; sniper nerds; Things This Is Canon Compliant With: Nothing; actually not true; possibly canon compliant with Captain America: TFA and also Iron Man; but I'm not positive; Civil War Fix-It; I honestly just wanted to watch these two idiots fall in love in a secluded cabin ok; Canon-Typical Violence; Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence; FlashbacksPost-Traumatic Stress Disorder – PTSD; Canon Disabled Character; Deaf Clint Barton; Texas Two Stepping is a thing; Sorry Not Sorry; tags updated to include country music; winterhawk – Freeform;magic woodland archer cabin; HYDRA supersoldiers; a small selection of violence; Canon-Typical Injuries; a tiny bit of angst; Happy Ending; found family trope abounds; Sex

Word count: 67k+

(rec by tumblr: @sishal01)

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Making Me A Habit by Kangofu_CB

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26706253

Summary:

Bucky is a disabled vet struggling with reintegrating into civilian life. He has a routine and a rhythm, and he doesn't like to let anything - big or small - disrupt it. That all changes the day Bucky finds himself inside CATastrophe, the local pet rescue, recovering from a panic attack in the back room of the shop. He’s used to walking by the place, not visiting, but the next thing Bucky knows, he’s hanging signs and being used as a climbing tree for a bunch of freshly-acquired kittens. And he just...keeps going back. First for the kittens, then for the disaster shop owner who rescues actual kittens from actual trees and teaches archery as a side-gig, and eventually because he’s hopelessly in love.

(Clint was in love before Bucky ever walked in the door.)

Tags: Modern Era; War Veteran Bucky Barnes; Amputee Bucky Barnes; Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder – PTSD; Bucky Barnes Has PTSD; Civilian Clint Barton; Pet Adoption; Kittens; so many kittens; Archery Instructor Clint Barton; Alternate Universe - Pet Store; Slow Burn; Pining; Misunderstandings; WinterHawk Big Bang; Word count: 20k+

(rec by tumblr: @sishal01) (rec by tumblr: @effervescentaardvark)

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Look What The Cat Dragged In by flawedamythyst

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27084847/chapters/66134170

Summary:

The Winter Soldier was looming over him, dressed in full combat gear and hung all about with weapons. Blood was seeping out of a wound on his arm and there was a smear of it down his cheek that was starting to flake off as it dried. He was staring at Clint with a jaw-clenchingly intense glare and Clint felt every cell in his body freeze up under his scrutiny, expecting pain of some kind.

Instead, the Winter Soldier held a fist out containing Clint’s hearing aids and then, once he’d tucked them in pretty much on autopilot, thrust a cat in Clint’s face and growled out, “Tell me about this kitten,” like he was demanding the passwords to a nuclear weapon.

Somehow Clint ends up co-owning a kitten with the Winter Soldier.

Tags: Bucky Barnes is a Cat Lover; Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug; Bucky Barnes has a sweet tooth; Alpine – Freeform; Clint Barton Is a Good Bro; Just Add Kittens; Bucky Barnes Recovering; Domestic Fluff

Word count: 22k

(rec by tumblr: @sishal01) (rec by tumblr: @effervescentaardvark)

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Sing Me That Old Song Again by mariana_oconnor

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12976866

Summary:

After breaking free from Hydra's control, James Barnes is keeping his head down. Captain America and his team are miles away, and he's better off alone. He's not expecting to be found by an Avenger. An Avenger who proves hard to get rid of.

Somehow, in spite of himself, Hawkeye ends up growing on him, and he realises that maybe alone isn't the best way to be.

But as Bucky's working out his own past, Hawkeye's coming face to face with his. They never should have gone to Budapest.

Tags:

Alternate Universe – Canon; Bucky Barnes's Notebooks; Road Trips; Sort Of; Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant; Winterhawk Reverse Big Bang; Bucky Barnes's Plums; Deaf Clint Barton; Hurt Clint Barton; Bucky Barnes Recovering; Bucky Barnes Remembers; Bucky Barnes Needs a HugWhat Happened in Budapest

Word count: 27k+

(rec by tumblr: @effervescentaardvark)

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Warming Up by pherryt

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19003336/chapters/45126904

Summary:

The last thing Clint expected when SHIELD went down and he had to make his way to his safehouse was to find the Winter Soldier already using it.

No, maybe the last thing he expected was for all his survival instincts to say screw it, and let him stay.

This couldn't possibly go wrong, could it?

Tags: Implied Tony/Steve – Freeform; Brainwashing; post winter soldier; deaf!cllnt; PTSD; Nightmares; hurt; comfort; bed sharing; tub sharing; Cuddle for Warmth; some violence but not too graphic; First Kiss; Low Self Esteem; Misunderstandings; hurt!Clint; First Aid; Running Away; Artist!Steve; mild to moderate hypothermia; Snowed In; cint's farm; PiningMutual Pining; Implied/Referenced Child Abuse; safehouse

Word count: 45k+

(rec by tumblr: @effervescentaardvark)

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Sticks and Strings and Christmas Things by PhoukasPenmanship

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5433500

Summary:

12 connecting vignettes for the "12 Days of Winterhawk" prompt challenge.

Tags: 12 Days of Winterhawk; Christmas Fluff; Swearing; Slow Burn; A little angst; Family of Choice; deaf!Clint

Word count: 66k+

(rec by tumblr: @effervescentaardvark)

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Nowhere You Can Be by jstabe https://archiveofourown.org/works/22012795

Summary:

Sometimes fate gets a little help from FedEx.

Tags: Bucky Barnes Recovering; Amputee Bucky Barnes; Deaf Clint Barton; Implied/Referenced Child Abuse; References to Depression; Happy Ending; Alternate Universe - No Powers

Word count: 26k+ (rec by tumblr: @effervescentaardvark)

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Lucky in Love by dr_girlfriend

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17230013/chapters/40516820

Summary: Clint is only a couple of sips into his cardboard cup of coffee, his brain barely out of neutral, which is probably why it takes him so long to realize that some damn psycho is trying to kidnap his dog.

Excerpt:

“I’m not some charity case,” Bucky says pugnaciously.

“I didn’t think you were,” Clint answers back readily enough. “I mean, I can tell you’re fucked up for sure, but of the two of us, I’m probably the bigger disaster. My sleep schedule is shit, and I drink coffee straight from the pot. I sing in the shower even though I’m deaf as fuck. I have arrows everywhere because I’m an archer — did I tell you that? And I was raised in a literal circus, so I’m not exactly domestic. Let’s see, what else?” He squints down at the ground, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah, I won the building in a poker game with the Russian mafia and every once in awhile they show up and try to take it back, but usually I handle it, no problem. Uh...”

Clint happens to looks up and Bucky’s eyes are wide, his mouth hanging open. Clint’s hand freezes where he’s rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly embarrassed. Yeah, when you put it all out there at once, it doesn’t sound so good.

Tags: Fluff; Romance; Slow Burn; Oh my god they were roommates!; Alternate Universe - No Powers; War Veteran Bucky Barnes; Deaf Clint Barton; Ableist Language; Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder – PTSD; Mutual Pining; Hurt/Comfort; Touch-Starved; Friends to Lovers; Fraction/Aja Comic-based Clint Barton; Implied/Referenced Child Abuse; Ambiguous Cuddling; Touch Aversion; I Dunno Maybe a Little Praise Kink?; Circus Veteran! Clint Barton; SHIELD Veteran! Clint Barton; Slow Build; meet ugly; Idiots in Love; Tooth-Rotting Fluff; References to Depression; Not Gonna Tag Every Sex Act Just Trust Me There's Plenty; Body Worship; A Little Gentle Dominance Stuff Maybe?; Edging; Crying During Sex; What Can I Say the Winterhawk Crowd Are Dirty Enablers; #Make Clint Cry 2019; meet cute; Deaf Character Word count: 59k+ (rec by tumblr: @effervescentaardvark)

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Battle Born by sian1359

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7960690

Summary:

Bucky Barnes decides he needs to come in from the cold soon after the events that happened in DC. He can't go to Steve or Natalia, as both would have expectations of a man he cannot ever be again. So he turns to someone who wouldn't have any expectations: Clint Barton.

Tags: Slice of Life; Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant; Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant; Angst with a Happy Ending; Relationship(s)Aftermath; Hydra (Marvel)Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Word count: 22k+

(rec by tumblr: @effervescentaardvark)

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The Anthem of a Dead Man Walking by EVVS

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7962379

Summary:

“I’m Clint,” he says again, knowing that he’s going to have to force this if he’s not going to go insane in here. He lasted this long, but knowing that there’s someone else? Someone else who he could talk with? No, he needs that right now. So badly. Someone who isn’t Tasha coming in to update him on the real world. Someone else who’ll help him make fun of the guards and maybe who’ll harmonize with him to Bohemian Rhapsody. He’s not looking for a new best friend, just someone who’ll commiserate. “I’m gonna call you John.”

There’s some movement. Sounds like someone’s head bumping the wall. “Why John?”

“Since you aren’t giving me your name to work with, you’re a John Doe to me, right? So I’ll just… call you John.”

Tags: Prison; Suicide mention; alcohol mention; Courtroom Drama; Crayons are involved; Not Canon Compliant; Marvel Universe

Word count: 14k+ (rec by tumblr: @effervescentaardvark)

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Outnumbered by sara-holmes

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7954669

Summary:

Word count: 18k+ (rec by tumblr: @effervescentaardvark)

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Falling Off the Face of the Earth by Teeelsie

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12951468

Summary:

Cap relaxes his hold, but he stays where he is, still looming over him. “Clint. The compound’s been breached,” Rogers whispers urgently, then finally sits back and lets go of him.

There’s another explosion, closer this time and throwing more light. He turns his head sharply and sees Bucky Barnes hovering near the door, looking… off. Clint pushes Rogers and he finally stands up so Clint can scramble out of the bed and grab some clothes. He’s wearing only boxers because it’s fucking hot in Wakanda, and he catches Barnes’ eyes flicking across his body.

Clint long ago stopped being bothered by people’s reactions to the many scars on his body – not that that many people actually see them - but that doesn’t mean he appreciates when they stare. “Like what you see?” he asks with a hard edge as he pulls on his shirt. Barnes turns his head, at least having the decency to look embarrassed for being caught staring.

Rogers looks at them both impatiently and quickly switches gears. “Clint, I need you to take Bucky. Get him out of Wakanda and somewhere safe.”

OR Bucky and Clint fall into each other. Bad shit happens. Then it all works out in the end.

Tags: Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie); On the Run; BAMF Clint Barton; BAMF Bucky Barnes; Developing Relationship; Slow Build; Brainwashing; Mind Control; Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery; Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder – PTSD; Clint!Whump; Hurt/Comfort; Emotional Hurt/Comfort; Angst; winterhawk – Freeform; Winterhawk Reverse Big Bang; WinterHawk Big Bang; Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant; Long Live Feedback Comment Project

(rec by tumblr: @effervescentaardvark)

(author rec by tumblr: @jinxquickfoot)

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Clint Barton's Super Secret Snipers' Club by sara_holmes

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3889561Summary:

Clint Barton's Super Secret Snipers' Club. (Invitation and pending mental health evaluation required.)

Tags: winterhawk – Freeform; sniper bros; References to PTSD; Therapy; Recovery; Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery; Avengers Family; Avengers Tower; Bonding; Drinking; Alcohol; Steve Feels; Protective Steve; Tony Stark Needs a Hug; Tony Feels; Deaf Clint Barton; Clint Is a Good Bro; Bucky Barnes Feels; Bucky Barnes Recovering; Ceiling Vent Clint Barton; Humor; Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism; do not copy to another site

Word count: 67k+

(rec by tumblr: @effervescentaardvark)

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Broken But Mending By Lissadiane

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18782863

Summary:

Bucky's not sure what he expects when he picks up the free local paper in his therapist's office, but it's not advice on losing things in his butt, that's for sure.

In which Bucky Barnes is a recovering war vet with a whole bunch of issues, none of which can be solved by a small time sex advice therapist, no matter how pretty his smile is. Tags: Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder – PTSD; War Veteran Bucky Barnes; Alternate Universe - No Powers; Amputee Bucky Barnes; Discussions of Asexuality; sex advice columnist Clint; Panic Attacks

Word count: 15k+ (rec by tumblr: @effervescentaardvark)

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Silhouette by mariana_oconnor

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7956760/chapters/18197191

Summary: After a mission in Mexico goes wrong, SHIELD Agents Barnes and Rogers are given the job of hunting down the notorious Hawkeye and the Black Widow, the only problem being: no one even knows what they look like.

On the other side of the law, Clint's enjoying messing with their new SHIELD shadows, especially seeing how close he can get to Agent Barnes without him realising, but he makes the mistake of getting attached, and that makes everything more complicated. Tags: Alternate Universe; SHIELD Agent Bucky Barnes; SHIELD Agent Steve Rogers; Assassin Clint Barton; Assassin Natasha Romanov; Slow Build; very slow build; WinterHawk Big Bang; winterhawk – Freeform; Natasha Is a Good Bro; Mission Fic; A lot of people get assassinated; Torture; Mentions of past brainwashing; epic bromances; Deaf Clint Barton; Identity Porn; Steve Rogers is a little shit; Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro;

Word count: 105k+

(rec by - tumblr: @itsalinski; note from itsalinski: ‘Silhouette is such an awesome fic, with a cool flip where Clint is the assassin and Bucky is the SHIELD agent’)

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All My Mistakes by ClaraxBarton

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14774933/chapters/34171013Summary:

Next job I’m taking is going to be south of the equator, Clint promised himself as he finished zipping up his down coat. He wished he had another. He was already wearing a black balaclava and a black beanie, thermal underwear under his clothes and two pairs of pants, but it was freezing on the rooftop.

The wind and the fine, misty rain that couldn’t decide if it wanted to be snow, ice or rain definitely didn’t help matters.

Clint hated the cold.

He didn’t understand why millionaire criminal masterminds couldn’t meet in exotic, warm locations to do their deals.

If he was a millionaire criminal mastermind, he sure as hell wouldn’t do deals in London in February.

-o-

It's February, 1999, and Clint Barton is about to encounter the Winter Soldier

Tags: Pre-Canon; or well pre-Avengers; Clint still doing his solo assassin thing; Smut; Adventure; Action; Angst; plumbing; Coffee; Spanking; jumping off roofs; shooting bad guys; Movie References; winterhawk – Freeform; Word count: 10k+ (rec by - tumblr: @itsalinski; note from itsalinski: ‘All My Mistakes is actually exactly what you were asking for, with Clint running into Bucky when he's still the winter soldier’)

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The Other Man out of Time by sara_holmes

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6004771

Summary:

Also known as Time Travelling Clint Wrecks the Universe.

Due to The Time Stone having a great day screwing around the fabric of reality, Clint finds a copy of himself thrown back into Normandy, 1944. Cue Clint 2.0 meeting Bucky Barnes, the Howling Commandos and a pretty different version of Steve.

Tags: Time Travel; Author has messed with timelines again; Dubious Science; The Time Stone; World War II; WWII Bucky Barnes; Canon Divergence - Captain America: The Winter Soldier; Clint Barton-centric; Deaf Clint Barton; Bucky Barnes Feels; The Asset remembers; Original Character Death(s)Falling In Love; Angst and Hurt/Comfort; Humor Word count: 97k+

(rec by - tumblr: @itsalinski; note from itsalinski: ‘And, The Other Man Out of Time is one of my absolute favourite Winterhawk fics’)

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Hope It Leaves a Mark by thepartyresponsible

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26762500

Summary: A collection of short fics inspired by the 2020 whumptober challenge.

Tags: Canon-Typical Violence; Fluff and Angst; Hurt/Comfort; Word count: 72k+

(rec by - tumblr: @itsalinski; note from itsalinski: ‘Also 'Hope it Leaves a Mark' is just a collection of truly awesome short fics that I wish were each long 100k fics, they're all that good and interesting (even the ones that aren't even Winterhawk, the author just writes so well and does such awesome things with Clint, Bucky and Frank’))

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Americana is for Lovers by ccbytheseashore

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10129133/chapters/22524080

Summary: Please tell me you are still alive, read Steve's text.

In Virginia, Bucky replied.

The hell are you doing in Virginia?

Would you believe me if I said trying to find a foam sculpture of Stonehenge?

Tony said to make sure his car comes back in once piece. Please don't shoot each other.

Clint and Bucky set off on an adventure to find an infamous work of Americana history, but find literally everything else (including love) instead.

Tags: Road Trips; Americana; Sexual Content; Developing Relationship; Getting Together; monstrous abuses against perfectly good bedframes

Word count: 8k+

(rec by – tumblr: @luredin)

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Bent by jstabe

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17413493

Summary: “My name is James Buchanan Barnes.”

He felt Clint’s lips curl up where they were resting at his temple. “Yes.”

“I am an Avenger.” Which was frankly ridiculous and impossible to believe sometimes, but it was true so it went on the list. Tags: Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier; Past Rape/Non-con Word count: 3k+ (rec by – tumblr: @luredin)

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I'll Keep You Safe Here With Me by sara_holmes

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1907085/chapters/4113102

Summary: Yes, Clint is avoiding the other Avengers. No, he does not want to go back to New York. But then again, he didn't exactly want to be kidnapped by the Winter Soldier either. Really, he just wants to go back to bed. Tags: Kidnapping; Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder – PTSD; Canon-Typical Violence; Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier; Where the hell was Clint Barton; Bucky Barnes Feels; Clint Barton Feels; Depression; Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery; Implied Relationships; Minor Steve Rogers/Tony Stark; Panic Attacks Word count: 110k+ (rec by – tumblr: @luredin)

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A Little Less Bloodshed Would Be Nice by youcancallmearrow

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12972900

Summary: Clint Barton may be a human train wreck, but when it comes to befriending ex-mind controlled assassins, he's pretty much the best there is. Unfortunately, he's not nearly as good at being kind to himself. Lucky for him, Bucky's got it covered. Tags: Fluff with Feels; pizza dog – Freeform; Mind Control; Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery; You Will Pry Jarvis Out of My Cold Dead Hands; Falling In Love; Domestic Avengers; Dog Cops; WinterHawk Big Bang; Angst; Comfort; Tony Is a Good Bro

Word count: 8k+ (rec by – tumblr: @luredin)

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A Thistle Cannot Grow by ccbytheseashore

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7956835

Summary: Clint stood at the bottom of the stairs in his boxer shorts and socks with his bow aimed at Bucky Barnes.

Bucky held his hands up in a placating gesture. “I didn't mean to sneak up on you.”

Clint didn't lower the bow.

“I didn't know you had a kid,” Bucky added conversationally.

“I should shoot your ass on principle.”

Tags: Kid Fic; Deaf Clint Barton; Developing Relationship; Getting Together; Panic Attacks; Mild Hurt/Comfort; WinterHawk Big Bang; Happy Ending; Sexual Content; Frottage; winterhawk – Freeform; Word count: 12k+ (rec by – tumblr: @luredin)

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Liminal Spaces by thepartyresponsible

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19086175

Summary: “Clint,” Steve says, and it’s that same no-bullshit, do-or-die, I really, really mean it voice he used to trot out in the last few innings of close games in high school. “Bucky’s not gonna fly. He’s not going to drive himself. He can’t— I need you to drive him here.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Clint says, and hangs up. Tags: Alternate Universe - Road Trip; Alternate Universe - No Powers; Idiots in Love; Mutual Pining; Exes; Angst with a Happy Ending; Past Child Abuse; Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder – PTSD; Clint Barton Needs a Hug; Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug Word count: 20k+ (rec by – tumblr: @luredin)

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Draw, Breathe, Fire by FestiveFerret

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12218880

Summary: If Bucky's not the Winter Soldier - not a weapon - anymore, then who is he?

And who is this smart-mouthed, cocky, flirty, pushy archer, Clint Barton? Tags: Bucky Barnes Recovering; Falling In Love; Get Together; Romance; Flirting; Banter; Hurt Clint Barton; Clint Barton's Bow & Arrows; Bucky Learns to Archery; Bucky Barnes Has PTSD; First Kiss; Sexual Content; Animal Shelters; Ferrets; Noodle no Noodling; Little bit of angst; lotta fluff

Word count: 14k+ (rec by – tumblr: @luredin)

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if god is in the lens by shatteredhourglass

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19123954

Summary:

The Asset pauses. He remembers the first few days after dragging St- dragging Captain America out of the water, the aimless emptiness that had filled him, with no mission and no knowledge of what to do next. He’d spent a week staring at the peeling wallpaper in a motel. There had been butterflies patterned on it. He hadn’t known what direction to go in next, because he was (is) scared of Captain America, and he didn’t want anything to do with Hydra, and he’d just… stopped. That’s when he realizes Barton isn’t going to move unless he gives the man a reason to move, something to do that isn’t related to a past he can’t remember or the threat of imminent death. (It’s been burned out of him, the Asset can relate.)

A mission.

He's leaning on the button to the microphone before he thinks about it. “Come with me and you can kill more of them.”

Tags: Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier; Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie); Recovery; Denial; Brainwashing; Protective Steve Rogers; Bucky Learns To Be A Person Again; Blood and Violence; Deaf Clint Barton; Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship; Bucky Barnes Feels; Psychological Trauma; Angst and Hurt/Comfort; Mostly On Bucky's Part; Clint's Just Like 'Ah Yes This Is My Life Now'; Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes; Hand Jobs Word count: 40k+

(rec by – tumblr: @luredin)

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Got a Heart in Me, I Swear by thepartyresponsible

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28846980

Summary: The pictures leak on a lazy off-season Sunday, in that muddled bit of midafternoon Clint never knows what to do with when he isn’t training. He curls up with Lucky on the couch and naps through the end of his whole damn life. And that, honestly, is pretty much perfect.

Tags: Alternate Universe – Baseball; Implied/Referenced Homophobia; Internalized Homophobia; Team as Family; Fluff and Angst; Mutual Pining; Idiots in Love Word Count: 36k+ (rec by – tumblr: @1968bullittmustang: ‘one of my all-time favorite au’)

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Patricia the Superior Vehicle: The Helpfulness Mission by Aelfay, pietray, Sagacity, Twindragons

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42875178

Summary: The Soldier is doing his best. He’s not quite up to trying to deal with Rogers, Steven G. (Captain), but he’s found another way to be helpful: keeping an eye on one Clint Barton. He’s kind of a mess, but that just gives the Soldier more ways to help, right?

Clint is confused about why Natasha keeps following him around – he keeps seeing glimpses of black out of the corner of his eye. The constant presence means he’s a little suspicious of his next mission. Unfortunately, it’s still not enough to keep him from being caught.

In which: Clint sings the disco stick song, Patricia is a Superior Vehicle, and the Soldier buys underwear. A balance of humor and intimacy as Clint and Bucky both recover a little bit of who they are.

Tags: Kidnapping; Cabin Fic; Mission Fic; Hand Jobs; Frottage; Deaf Clint Barton; Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes; Patricia the Superior Vehicle; Disco Stick; Fluff and Smut

Word count: 16k+

(self-rec by tumblr: @alchemistdoctor)

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What Happens in Vegas… by Aelfay, Twindragons

Summary: Clint gets sent to check on a 'friend' of Natasha's in Las Vegas. Only this place is really nice, and her 'friend' is hot as hell. How is he meant to cope!? Answer: he can't. Featuring bunny ears, a fluffy tail, and Clint never quite having enough clothes.

Tags: Pole Dancing; Aerial silks; casino – Freeform; Crack Treated Seriously; Looney Tunes – Freeform; Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship; Natasha Romanov is a good friend; Illustrated; Don't post on another site; Clint Barton loses it when Bucky pole dances; brief masturbation

Word count: 10k+

(self-rec by tumblr: @alchemistdoctor)

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Boys of Summer by Aelfay

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21711700

Summary:

Bucky wants a goat. He gets robots, a dog, and Clint Barton.

And the goat.

Tags: Trashcan the Goat; James "Bucky" Barnes; Clint Barton; Steve Rogers; Tony Stark; Natasha Romanov (Marvel); DUM-Ebite-Size; U (robot); Cricket (robot); Hamburger Helper (robot); Fidget (robot);

(self-rec by tumblr: @alchemistdoctor)

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Fair Game by NotEvenCloseToStraight

Summary:

...being courted by a wolf!shifter is hard.

When Clint accepts the Game Warden/Shifter Pack Liaison position in Willow’s Run he thinks he'll be signing hunting licenses and maybe writing a few tickets. He doesn't expect to start a brawl on day one, be claimed by the definitely scary Beta!Wolf Bucky on day two and begin what might be the worlds slowest courtship.

...oops?

Eventually Clint settles into his new role, strikes up a friendship with precocious scientist!Tony and a careful affair with Bucky. He navigates awkward shifter courtship rituals and misunderstandings, surprising romance and increasingly bitey kisses and for a while, all is well in the mountains.

But hunting season brings strangers to the town and when increased tension and broken rules bring up old prejudices and new fears, their quiet life turns dangerous.

Clint has his hands full with aggressive hunters, defensive pack members and a town pushed towards chaos.

Torn between the law and what his heart wants, the Game Warden knows something's gotta give--

--but will that 'something' end up driving Bucky and the pack away?

Tags: winterhawk - FreeformStony – Freeform; Shifter AU; Wolf Shifters; Strangers to Lovers; True Mates; Matt Fraction's Hawkeye; Clint Barton & Tony Stark Friendship; awkward dating; Werewolf Courting; Hunters vs Shifters; Fluff and Humor; FunnyAngst and Feels; Mild Peril; Falling In Love; Developing Relationship; Awesome Clint Barton; Tony Stark Does What He Wants; Alpha Steve Rogers; Bucky Barnes Feels; Pack Dynamics; Hurt Characters; Hurt/Comfort; sex then feelings; Eventual love confessions; happily ever after guaranteed;

Word count: 139,000k+

(rec by tumblr: @southern-goth)

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if you were a mythical thing by Kangofu_CB

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42952029/chapters/107913444

Summary:

After winding up in hot water with the Ukrainian mob, Clint finds himself relocating to a small town in northern Indiana to work as an elementary school gym teacher, and finds his new home invaded by a series of suspiciously wolfish puppies determined to be Lucky's BFFs, and his life invaded by over zealously friendly neighbors determined to feed him. In a startling twist of events, three of his favorite students happen to be his next door neighbors, along with their ruinously hot single dad Bucky, who proves to be just as enamored of Clint as he is of Bucky.

What follows is a classic rendition of thirsting over the hot neighbor, bizarre small-town behavior, and so many puppies.

Tags: modern suburban fantasy au; Alternate Universe – Teachers; Kid Fic; Werewolves; disconcertingly friendly locals; puppy invasions; bizarre subtle interrogations; roving packs of scheming children; awkward seduction attempts via edible arrangements; a ruinously hot single dad; Werewolf Courting; Werewolf Mates; Oblivious Clint Barton; Protective Natasha Romanov; Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship; Alpha Steve Rogers; Peggy was and remains a spy and it shows; Sam Wilson is a Gift; First Dates; Slow Burn; the things werewolves find attractive are more surprising than you think; SexAnal Sex; First Time; fluff and joy and jokes mostly; No Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics

Word count: 74k+

(rec by tumblr: @southern-goth)

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Lost & Found by mariana_oconnor

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15230097

Summary:

Clint Barton’s got a bag full of stolen money and a burning desire to stay under the radar. His old friends in the Carnival will be looking for him and they sure as hell won’t be happy. In a desperate attempt to stay off their radar, he ends up in Timely, a small town so far off the beaten track he’s surprised he even found it, and waits for Barney to comes and get him. Because Barney will be coming. Clint knows he will.

But there's something about the town. Maybe it's the strange wolf that watches him from the trees, and the way people finish conversations when he enters a room. Or it could be the bartender, Bucky, who decided to hate him on sight. Something’s going on in this small town, and Clint’s not sure if he’s jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Tags: Alternate Universe – Werecreatures; Werewolf Bucky Barnes; Werewolf Steve Rogers; Werefox Natasha Romanov; Protective Natasha Romanov; Carson's Carnival; Hard of Hearing Clint Barton; Canon Disabled Character; Bucky Barnes Has Issues; People Trafficking; forced cage fighting; dubiously consensual heavy petting; on the part of the petter; Pack Dynamics; Not Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics; But Steve is the alpha; Sheriff Steve Rogers; Bartender Bucky Barnes; Criminal Clint Barton; Werewolves; werewolves mate for life; Clint Barton's Excellent Self Esteem; Barney Barton's A+ Brothering; Barney Barton is not a good bro; WinterHawk Big Bang; Implied past emotional abuse; Identity Porn; Slow Burn; Enemies to Friends to Lovers; Public Sex; Inadvisable attitudes to wild animals; Seriously people; Don't Try This At Home; Clint Barton is not a good role model

Word count: 89k+

(rec by tumblr: @southern-goth)

___________________ Mokusatsu by shadesfalcon (Wintershieldhawk)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12227904

Summary:

Clint Barton has been strung along from abusive relationship to abusive relationship all his life. Not that he would use the word “abusive”. He would argue that, as a sub, he was born to take whatever it is his dom feels like throwing at him.

But even with that attitude, he’s nervous about his current situation. Trapped in a bureaucratically mandated relationship with not one but two doms is going to be difficult and dangerous. Especially since these two doms are both members of the Avengers themselves.

He hopes that whenever he disappoints them, they’ll have at least a little pity on him, even though he knows he won’t deserve it.

Tags: Alternate Universe – BDSM; Dom/sub; Power Imbalance; Communication Failure; and given that power imbalance those communications failures have real consequences; Spanking; Belts; Canes; Bondage; Hurt/Comfort; references to past abuse; accidental abuse; Unhealthy Relationships With Food; self-harming behaviors; Sub Clint Barton; Dom Bucky Barnes; Dom Steve Rogers; Domestic Violence; Sexual Content; Angst with a Happy Ending; Polyamory

Word count: 125k+ (rec by tumblr: @southern-goth)

___________________ Speechless by sara_holmes

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5647540

Summary: It's not that Bucky doesn't want to talk. It's that sometimes (most of the time) he can't. So learning ASL is 50% getting around that slight issue and 50% getting Steve to shut his cake-hole about the necessity of him learning to speak again.

Well, to begin with. Then it's pretty much all about him falling head-over-heels for his incredibly hot - yet slightly tragic - ASL teacher.

Tags: Alternate Universe - No Powers; Deaf Clint Barton; ASL teacher Clint Barton; Mutism; Bucky Barnes Feels; Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship; Anxiety; Anxiety Disorder; Therapy; Physical Therapy; Mentions of PTSD; Steve and Bucky are ex military; Bucky Barnes Recovering; Happy Ending; Humor; Fluff; Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm; dumb boys; Falling In Love; an incident with an egg; Clint Barton is tragic and adorable and not as dumb as he makes out Word count: 10k+ (rec by tumblr: @southern-goth)

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Hipsters get Remembered, Legends Never Die by sara_holmes https://archiveofourown.org/works/17471969/chapters/41145935

Summary: Bucky Barnes is a broke millennial hipster and one-armed veteran who somehow ends up as a science project for Tony Stark, a PA for Steve Rogers and a fling for Clint Barton. What even is his life.

Tags: Modern Bucky Barnes; Awesome Clint Barton; Commander Rogers; SHIELD 2.0; War Veteran Bucky Barnes; Canon Disabled Character; Millennial Bucky; Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship; Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder – PTSD; Recovery; Do not repost; Do not post to other sites Word count: 89k+

(rec by tumblr: @southern-goth: ‘this is a different take with hipster!Bucky and he's annoying but in a good way lol’)

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This Just In by Noxnthea https://archiveofourown.org/works/44128362

Summary: George C @dapperdanman if I was Hawkeye this might be the worst day of my life. 1: I get the shit beat out of me. 2: I find out my Soulmate is the Winter Soldier. 3: I pass out while a villain is monologuing at me on live television and the internet makes a meme of me talking about sandwiches in my sleep.

Clint and Bucky are having a rough month, and the whole world has something to say about it.

Tags: Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier; Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence; Alternate Universe – Soulmates; Soulmate-Identifying Marks; Identity Reveal; Light Angst; Humor; Epistolary; Chatting & Messaging; Social Media; News Media; Texting; Twitter; reddit; YouTube; POV Outsider; The Avengers vs their worst foe yet: the media; Clint vs his self-esteem; Slow Burn; Even though the news moves fast; Steve Rogers Rages Against The Machine; Clint Barton Needs a Hug; Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug; Somebody tell these people to hire a PR team Word count: 29k+ (rec by tumblr: @southern-goth: ‘there's social media posts in this fic and it's so well written I could cry’)

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Complications by flawedamythyst https://archiveofourown.org/works/6700921/chapters/15325426 Summary:

Clint's got a plan to retire and go find himself a simple life at his family's old farm. Simple is good, right? Easy to remember. Simple is why he doesn't really mind that his soul-print has never activated, because a soulmate could only add another layer of complexity to his life.

And then the Winter Soldier turns up at his archery range on the Avengers base, and simple slips through Clint's fingers.

Post Age-of-Ultron (minus Clint's wife&kids) Soulmate AU.

Massive thanks to Chucksauce for betaing. Tags: Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie); Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant; Soulmate-Identifying Marks; Main Pairing is Clint/Bucky; Mention of past violence towards children

Word count: 84k+ (rec by tumblr: @southern-goth)

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A Heart Worth Loving by Kangofu_CB

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34870519

Summary: Fate has it out for Clint Barton.

After a few too many heartbreaks, he's given up looking for his Soulmate; who needs happily ever after anyway? He’s perfectly content with his dog, his job, guarding eccentric billionaires, and drinking Natasha’s contraband vodka. Just ask anyone.

So he doesn’t think anything about inviting a random sex worker home for coffee to get him out of the cold - no need for any special company, thanks - because that’s just the decent thing to do. But when he keeps meeting Bucky again and again, it’s not fate he’s gotta worry about, it’s his heart.

Bucky’s just living his life. He’s got work he doesn’t hate, a degree program he loves, and and a side project out to prove Green Arrow's archery antics aren't possible outside the comics. He’ll meet his Soulmate when the time is right, but for now he’s content to wait.

But then his roommate pulls a Breaking Bad, leaving him caught up in an NYPD investigation, out of his regular work, and scrambling for a place to stay where his demon-cat won’t get them both evicted. Before he knows it, Clint is turning his whole life turned upside down, and Bucky thinks fate shouldn’t be tempting him.

Tags: Alternate Universe – Soulmates; Soulmates; Soulmate-Identifying Marks; Sex Worker Bucky Barnes; Sex Work; Jewish Bucky Barnes; SHIELD Agent Clint Barton; SHIELD Agent Natasha Romanov; Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers; War Veteran Bucky Barnes; Modern Bucky Barnes; Deaf Clint Barton; Past Relationship(s); Concussions; Forced Cohabitation; Miscommunication; Fake/Pretend Relationship; Angst and Fluff and Smut; Tony Stark Does What He Wants; Pop Culture References; Archery; Masturbation in Shower; Clint is emotionally constipated; Poor attempts at seduction; the love is requited but they're both idiots; Sex; (of course there's sex - I wrote this)

Word count: 82k+

(rec by tumblr: @southern-goth)

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something magic, something tragic by squadrickchestopher https://archiveofourown.org/works/28487004/chapters/69802917

Summary:

After making a fatal mistake on a mission, Clint Barton vanishes into the depths of the Midwest.

What he wants is to be left alone for a bit, to take a couple weeks of peace and quiet and get his mind straight.

Instead, he finds himself caught up in a nationwide game of cat-and-mouse with a brooding, metal-armed vampire.

Natasha’s right. He’s got the worst fucking luck in the world.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements; Supernatural Creatures; Vampire Bucky Barnes; Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug; Canon-Typical Violence; Deaf Clint Barton; Competent Clint Barton; some non-consensual biting; because Vampires; Attempted Kidnapping; Sassy Clint Barton; Other Additional Tags to Be Added; Enemies to Lovers; creative escapes; Non-Consensual Blood Drinking; Implied/Referenced Suicide; Drunken Kissing; Torture

Word count: 55k+

(rec by tumblr: @southern-goth: ‘supernatural!Marvel’)

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Once Lost (now found) by Teeelsie https://archiveofourown.org/works/35419939Summary:

There’s a beat and then Phil says, “Clint, you don’t have anything to prove.”

And that stings, because, “If you think I’m doing this to prove anything to anyone, then you don’t know me half as well as I thought you did.” He hears Phil sigh on the other end of the comm. “Besides,” Clint tells him, “I’ll have back-up. I’ll have Barnes. Hawkeye out.” He reaches up and clicks off the comm, cutting off Phil’s continued objection mid-word.

Eight days these assholes have had Barnes and he’s not going to let them keep him for another hour, much less another day. He doesn’t have anything to prove, but he sure as hell isn’t going to give anyone any reason to question his actions, either. Tags: Whump; Hurt/Comfort; Blindness; On the Run; Blood and Injury; Self-Sacrifice; Hurt Bucky Barnes; Hurt Clint Barton; BAMF Bucky Barnes; BAMF Clint Barton; Developing Relationship; Rivals to Friends to WinterHawk Word count: 40k

(rec by tumblr: @southern-goth)

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blood on my hands, love in my heart by hawksonfire https://archiveofourown.org/works/33643102/chapters/83604322

Summary: The lines in the Soldier’s forehead are gone in his unconsciousness, leaving a relatively young looking top half of a face. Clint has to put his bow away to get the mask off him, but it slides off pretty easy and he sets it aside.

The instant he turns back and sees the Soldier’s face, his jaw drops. “Holy fuck,” he says, astonished. “You’re Bucky goddamn Barnes.”

Tags: Deaf Clint Barton; Mercenary Clint Barton; Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes; Not Canon Compliant; BAMF Phil Coulson; Director of SHIELD Peggy Carter; boomerang arrow; Sassy Clint Barton; Sassy Phil Coulson; BAMF Clint Barton; Violence only in the first and second chapter; Home Renovations; Bucky Barnes Recovering; Clint Barton's Farm; Clint Barton's Shitty Childhood; PiningMutual Pining; Sexual Tension; Nightmares; Chickens; Domesticity; Bucky Patching Clint Up; Chickenus Interruptus; Sharing a Bed; Cuddling & Snuggling; Boys In Love; Boys Kissing; Clint Barton's Arms; Hand Jobs Word count: 12k+

(self-rec by @spacey-acey-artemis: ‘this one has Hawkeye meeting the Winter Soldier’)

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blood on my hands, love in my heart by hawksonfire

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33643102

Summary: What if, after Clint Barton was left for dead by his own brother, he didn't become Ronin and instead became someone else? This is the story about the Winter Soldiers, and how they became two

Tags: Winter Soldier Clint Barton; Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes; Pining; Idiots in Love; mentions of torture; Mentions of brainwashing

Word count: 7k+

(self-rec by @spacey-acey-artemis: ‘this one has a fun twist on Winter Soldier Bucky’)

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The Storm Shall Not Wake Thee by dr_girlfriend

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52165594

Summary: Following the events of CA:TWS, the Winter Soldier finds Hawkeye. Clint is still haunted by his own experiences with having his control stripped away, but together they find a way to heal.

Excerpt:

“How did you even … how are you tracking me?” Clint tries.

The question seems to confuse Barnes even further. He looks at Clint, and then somewhere behind Clint’s shoulder, and then back to Clint’s eyes.

“I don’t know,” Barnes says again.

“Listen,” Clint says, taking a step forward, and Barnes flinches back instinctively, stumbling for a moment.

“Whoa,” Clint says. Before he knows it he’s sheathing the knife and grabbing Barnes’ arm, steadying him. Barnes blinks rapidly a few times, wobbling a bit before he seems to find his balance again. His slate-blue gaze, so intent a moment ago, seems a little unfocused.

“When’s the last time you ate? Drank something? Slept?”

“I don’t know,” Barnes says, Clint mouthing the lines along with him.

Christ, Nat is going to kill him when she finds out about this, but there’s nothing else Clint can do.

“Well, c’mon in the house. We’ll get this figured out.”

Tags: winterhawk – Freeform; Canon Divergent; Post CA:TWS; Selkie Bucky Barnes; Selkies; Deaf Character; Deaf Clint Barton; Clint Barton Has ADHD; Demisexuality; Implied/Referenced Child Abuse; Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con; Canon Disabled Character; Secondary Relationships are Background; Matt Fraction-inspired Clint Barton; All Characters Outside of Winterhawk Are Very Background; Single POVPOV Clint Barton; Clint Barton Has Self-Esteem Issues Word count: 45k+

(self-rec by tumblr: @drgrlfriendrgrlfriend) (I also love their stuff, so consider this a rec from me as well! - Lynlee494)

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My Heart Will Be Your Home by dr_girlfriend

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42901050

Summary: Four years after the Battle of New York, Clint has created a stable life for himself and his young daughter, free of the dangers of SHIELD work.

The Winter Soldier turned himself in to the Avengers, expecting a death sentence or lifetime of imprisonment. Instead, he found absolution and an invitation to join the team. He is still adjusting to life as an Avenger when he meets Clint Barton and his daughter.

The young man that Bucky Barnes used to be was wholeheartedly enthusiastic about meeting his soulmate, but Bucky is not sure there’s a place for him in his soulmate’s life anymore.

Clint has spent his whole life dreading meeting his soulmate, drawing false conclusions from the hurtful words that were spoken in haste. They are both drawn to each other and are willing to give this a try, but will have to work together to overcome the shadows of their past.

Excerpt:

It’s one of the largest soulmarks Bucky has ever seen. The script in Bucky’s neat cursive handwriting starts at the crest of one shoulder and arcs below Clint’s collarbones to end at the crest of the other shoulder, golden letters that no tattoo ink has ever been able to replicate.

What kind of idiot are you?

Tags: winterhawk – Freeform; AU; alternative universe; Soulmates; Alternate Universe – Soulmates; Soulmarks; Soul Bond; Soulmate-Identifying Marks; Single Parent Clint Barton; Single Parents; Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes; SHIELD Veteran Clint Barton; Secondary Relationships are Background; Deaf Character; Deaf Clint Barton; Jewish Character; Jewish Bucky Barnes; Picking Through Canon Like a Junkyard to Find the Parts I LikeSingle POV; Referenced Canonical Character Death (Phil Coulson); Mild Derogatory Language (e.g. Idiot and Stupid); Canon Disabled Character; Disabled Character; original robot character – Freeform; Harm to a Child in the Context of a Nightmare; Fluff Word count: 49K+ (self-rec by tumblr: @drgrlfriend)

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Freefall by dr_girlfriend

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36074404

Summary:

It’s a small hunting cabin. It’s unlikely to have heat or electricity, and it looks uninhabited, but it’s shelter, and Clint is beyond relieved to have managed to make it within striking distance. Just a little longer … a little farther …

It takes him long enough that he would be ashamed under any other circumstances, but eventually he gets the lock open and swings the door wide.

“Fuck me.”

It’s a small one-room cabin, dark and dusty, and notable primarily for the fact that the fucking Winter Soldier is inside, straightening up from where he was hunched by the fireplace, drawing his knife. Tags: Discussion of Canon Child Abuse; Discussion of Canon Brainwashing; Seizures; Epilepsy; Fluff; SHIELD Agent Clint Barton; Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes; Strike Team Delta (Marvel)Sharing a Bed; Sharing Body Heat; Stranded; Slow Burn

Word count: 49k+

(self-rec by tumblr: @drgrlfriendrgrlfriend)

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(Tell Me) It'll All Be Alright by Lynlee494

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54368605

Summary:

How do they do it? Boxed in like that. Back to the only open space around you? Sitting around all day. Nothing to do...” Clint’s voice is tinny through the comms. “Ooh, if you see any decent munchies, snag me a few. I missed dinner.”

“Hey, bird brain, focus. If we’re too late getting back, I can’t pick up Alpine from Kate’s till late tomorrow.” Bucky’s voice is low, while the building should be empty, they aren’t able to watch all the entrances from Clint’s angle on the opposite building. A lot of this relies on the element of surprise and stealth.

"Dude, you just walked past a break room.”

“Are you looking for stray guards, or are you looking for snacks?”

“Both, of course.” Clint scoffs on the open mic. “Wait! Nine o'clock!”

Bucky growls but reaches out and grabs a handful of caramels from a desk and puts them in the breast pocket of his tactical vest.

“You’re the best.”

“Shut up, Barton.”

Tags: Missions Gone Wrong; Hurt/Comfort; Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug; Hurt Bucky Barnes; Protective Clint Barton; Clint & Bucky’s Mutual Love for Explosions; Canon-Typical Violence; Clint Barton Needs a Hug; Bucky Barnes Needs A Bandaid; Whump; Clint Barton is a BAMF; Unreliable Narrator; Matt Fraction-inspired Clint BartonClint Barton Doesn't Have A Secret Family; winterhawk - Freeform; sniper bros; Pre-Slash

(self-rec by Lynlee494: *see above reference to 'shameless')

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Barton and Barnes, the Marvelous Ex-Assassins by Lynlee494

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50450977

Summary: It wouldn’t have been so bad, Bucky could have shrugged this off easily once he caught his breath, but he found the more he pulled to free himself the worse it seemed to be. Barnes thinks he hears shouting, but it is distorted and drowned out by the pounding in his ears. Ripping further at the trap that was furthering ensnaring him he found himself snarling and just ripping at it with brute strength and panicked rage that echoed of the Asset’s frustrated rampages through Hydra personnel.

Tags: Hurt Bucky Barnes; Whump; Bucky Barnes Whump; Hurt/Comfort; Whumptober; Whumptober 2023; Day 1 Prompt; Safety Net; Panic; "How Many Fingers Am I Holding Up?"; Circus Performer Clint Barton; Circus Has Come To Town; Canon-Typical Violence; Bucky Barnes Recovering; Panic Attacks; Alternative Prompt; Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes; Clint Barton Feels; Dehumanization; preslashwinterhawk - Freeform

(self-rec by Lynlee494: *see above reference to 'shameless')

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I Don't Remember How by AvaKelly (Part 1 of Kitty)

https://archiveofourown.org/series/308049

Summary:

"How the hell did they wash you," he mutters as he raises from the chair.

"Hosed the blood down," comes from behind as the Soldier follows him toward the bathroom.

Clint almost screams right then and there.

Tags: Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier; Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie); Where Was Clint Barton During Captain America 2?; the farm house; Gif Inspired; Oblivious Clint; there's a kitty; Memory Loss; clint adopts assassins; clint is in denial

Word count: 7k+ (Part 1) (rec by tumblr: @nana-evans) (assistance from tumblr: @therulingqueen)

___________________ Nameless by AvaKelly

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5827387

Summary: A gun is pointed at him before he can even move from his position, the Soldier's metal arm steady in its aim. Clint sighs.

"Nemo," Clint says. "It's tattooed on your wrist, right here," he lifts his right hand and taps his left index finger where his palm ends.

The Soldier's eyes widen. "How do you know this?"

"I put it there." Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence; Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier; Past meetings; starcrossed assassins (not really); Memory Loss; Tattoos; jules verne references; Canon-Typical Violence; Hurt/Comfort; Recovery; Infinity Gems; Time Loop; Time Travel; Slow Burn; Action; Rescue Mission; Saving the World; mentions of torture; Tearjerker; Healing; obliviously falling in love

Word count: 101k+ (rec by tumblr: @nana-evans) (assistance from tumblr: @o-kaythislooksbad)

___________________

Author recs:

'Definitely try squadrickchestopher’s and teeelsie’s fics!' teeelsie: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teeelsie/pseuds/Teeelsie/works

(rec by tumblr: @jinxquickfoot)

(rec by tumblr: @broken--bow ) -- squadrickchestopher: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squadrickchestopher/pseuds/squadrickchestopher/works

(rec by tumblr: @jinxquickfoot)

Lissadiane: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lissadiane/pseuds/Lissadiane

(rec by tumblr: @sishal01)

‘I'm shocked that no one has recommended ArtaxLivs yet--particularly the True Colors series; Through the Looking Glass; Both, Both is Good; And the Stockings Were Hung; and The Happiest Place on Earth. The character insight! The inner anguish! The humor! The smut! ’

ArtaxLivs: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtaxLivs/works

(rec by tumblr: @feistygina )

___________________

***I was unable to find the following, however: ‘You should check Ava Kelly's "Kitty" series for Clint finds Bucky, it's awesome! Also, "Nemo", from the same author’ (rec by tumblr: @nana-evans) ***If anyone has a link? I tried to find both author and stories, and failed.

Thank you to @therulingqueen and @o-kaythislooksbad! The above fixed are now at the end, right before the 'Author Recs'!

142 notes · View notes

maknaeswrld · 11 months ago

Text

a life eluded | l.mh, h.js

wc: 6.5k

genre: soulmate au; reincarnation au; fluff; angst; poly!minsung x reader

cw: pov hopping; anxiety/panic attack mentions; food/eating mentions; Bee (I still feel like they need a warning); all soulmates are gn (they/them pronouns) for sake of future storytelling; past life memories in italics; please please let me know if I missed anything🫶

if you’re new here, start from the beginning: a life forgotten

Soulmates can be a painful thing. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop yourself from running away.

Riley had left you with a hug, two phone numbers hastily written on a paper towel, and a promise to meet up soon. You and Lia counted off ten minutes before leaving as well, hopefully giving you enough time for Riley and any possible companions to be long gone.

You thought the idea of reaching out to them would scare you, but the more you looked at the numbers, the more you wanted to talk to them. You assumed Bee was the one that had yelled at your soulmates, drawing their attention off you long enough to make a break for it.

They’ve been looking for you for a long time.

Riley’s words found themselves on repeat in your head, not letting up even slightly. How could they have been looking for you if they’d never met you? They couldn’t possibly have known you. But they still noticed your absence. Enough that it weighed on them, caused them to seek you out even without knowing who you were.

They’ve been searching for their ‘missing piece’ about as long as I’ve known them.

Their missing piece. Not a burden, not a hitch in all of their plans, not some unforeseen unfortunate circumstance. You were included in their future long before you even knew of your past, they’d been attempting to seek you out for far longer than you’ve been avoiding ever finding them. In their minds you were the final piece of an extensive puzzle. Their final piece.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you were typing both numbers into your phone and creating a group chat.

Y/n: you didn’t tell me which number belonged to who so i just made a gc, I hope that’s alright.

Unknown Number: Who are you and how’d you get these numbers?

Unknown Number: shut up Bee, I already warned you about this. sorry Y/n, I was rushing a bit, this is Riley and the other number is Bee’s :)

Bee (Changbin’s soulmate): WAIT!!! YOU’RE MINSUNGS THIRD?! THE ONE THAT RAN AWAY EARLIER?!

Riley (Bang Chan’s soulmate): Bee istg

Y/n: uhhhh yeah, I suppose that’s me

Bee (Changbin’s soulmate): I would’ve run away too, those idiots are so loud

Riley (Bang Chan’s soulmate): you are actually not allowed to talk, I think the only person in existence that can rival Bin’s loud ass is you. the both of you together are my eternal migraine

Bee (Changbin’s soulmate): SHUT UP WE AREN’T THAT BAD

You couldn’t help the laugh that wells up in you at their banter, after that you fall into an easy rhythm talking with them. They understand you in a way you’re not sure any of your friends ever have.

It didn’t take even two days messaging back and forth for the three of you to make plans to meet for coffee, Bee going on about how unfair it is that you met Riley already. You thought you’d be nervous, you spent the whole morning getting ready waiting for the nerves to hit. These were the soulmates of not just two international idols, but close friends to your soulmates who were in the same group. Everything about the situation should be sending you into a spiral of anxious thoughts, but instead you felt more at ease than you do going to dinner with Lia.

“You look hot, where are you off to?” Your neighbor asked as you were locking the door.

“Coffee with some friends.” It felt too natural, the way friends rolled off your tongue. You hadn’t even met Bee yet.

“Be safe babes.” Your neighbor smiled, entering her own apartment. You weren’t close with your neighbor, but you always looked out for one another. Living alone wasn’t always safe, so having someone who would notice your absence was always a comfort thing for you.

The coffee shop decided on was a twenty minute walk from your apartment, you spent the whole time thinking over everything. When you had found out about your soulmates, one of your biggest concerns was the fact that there were others like you, soulmates of idols who knew who they were supposed to be with and couldn’t get to them. Or worse, that there were friends of yours, people who were the soulmates of the people you knew you had some cosmic bond with, people important to you that you’d never get the chance to remember.

Due to Stray Kids popularity, you got to have your memories with your soulmates members, the memories of how close you were to each of them as well in every lifetime, but knowing they had soulmates, that you likely were very close to their soulmates, that you couldn’t remember them, devastated you.

And now you were meeting two of them for coffee. The memories with Riley had already started to slowly trickle in after the short time you spent with them in the bathroom, you knew more would start engraving within your deepest memories after more time spent together. The two of you were close in every lifetime, it gave you hope that everything would work out in this one as well.

“Y/n!! Run!!’” Riley laughed, hand holding tightly on yours as the two of you sprinted away from the lady chasing the two of you with a broom.

“Get out of here, street rats!” The lady called after you.

After several twists and turns to make certain you were securely away from any possible danger, you both sat against a wall to catch your breath. You started giggling, causing Riley to look at you as if you’d grown two heads.

“What are you-?” Riley trailed off as you produced two small pieces of bread you’d managed to snake while Riley distracted the mean lady. Riley’s eyes lit up before laughter filled the space coming from the both of you.

You each enjoyed your pieces of bread, savoring the taste and the feeling of something on your stomachs, just sitting in comfortable silence with one another.

You’d shared your whole lives running the streets, keeping each other alive and moving, and you always thought it’d just be the two of you, until Riley found Chan and your lives got thrown upside down.

You stared at the sign of the tiny rustic looking cafe. It was the type of place you’d go to every day if you knew it existed. Now that you did, you couldn’t imagine not regularly spending time there. You knew deep down, if all went well today, you’d be spending a lot of time there with Bee and Riley.

A bell jingled above the door as you pushed it open.The whole place radiated comfort and you felt at ease instantly.

“Welcome in, I’ll be right with you!” A cheery voice called from what you assumed to be the kitchen.

“Y/n! We’re over here.” You found a table in a small nook surrounded by books where Riley and Bee were sitting, drinks already ordered. “We didn’t know what you might like and Sage already knows our usuals, but we were waiting for you to get food.”

Before you could take one of the open seats between the two, a short person with a bright smile, freckles, and long hair brushed to a shine seemed to dance toward you, hands wiping at their apron, they reached one out for you to shake.

“I’m Sage, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Their grip was firm despite the dainty tinkle of their voice.

“Y/n.” You smiled in return.

“What can I get ya, Y/n?”

You order your drink, you, Riley, and Bee also putting in your orders for food, and just as fast as Sage had appeared, they’d disappeared back into the kitchen. Taking your seat at the little table, you took a deep breath before looking up, only to find Bee and Riley already staring at you.

“So like, when are you gonna finally meet your boys? OW! Fuck Riles, what was that for?!”

Riley pinned Bee with a pointed glare.

“Are you avoiding your soulmates?” Sage asks, gently placing your cup in front of you and taking the last seat at the table.

You turn beat red at the accusation. “Not exactly.” You mumble.

“Totally is. They found each other young so they’ve had five years together already and now this one seems to think they’re going to ruin everything, even though Min and Ji already know about them and have been looking for them.” Bee stated, sipping out of their own cup. “OW! Fuck, why are you guys always attacking me!?” This time, Bee glared at Sage instead of Riley.

“Because you make yourself an easy target. Listen, Y/n, if there’s one thing I’ve learned while owning this shop and spending way too much time people watching, it’s that no matter how hard you try to fight it, you’re meant to be with who you’re meant to be with. That's just the reality. If you were going to ruin their lives just by them finding you, you wouldn’t be their soulmate. Simple as that. Min and Ji have been in here a few times with Chris and Bin, they’re good ones, I guarantee you could never regret letting them in.”

“Your parents made a good choice with your name.”

Sage grinned, gently lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “It’s a fun name to live up to.”

With that, Sage disappeared into the kitchen once again.

“They’re right though. I don’t think you could ever regret letting them in.” Riley smiled, reaching over to squeeze your hand.

“Sage doesn’t know the boys are idols, do they?”

The way they called all of them by names Riley or Bee would refer to them as instead of any full name or stage name struck you as odd. Either they didn’t know or they were the bands inner circle, that thought making a strange sense of insecurity rise up your throat.

“Nah, Sage doesn’t really do technology and only really listens to the radio their grandfather had is his restaurant. They know next to nothing about the idol world, which is why the boys like coming here so much, it’s peaceful and off the beaten path.”

You nodded, sipping your drink. You could understand that, especially with the boys being idols with soulmates, a quiet coffee shop with next to no attention on it is the perfect place to be able to have uninterrupted time together.

Shifting in your seat to look around the small shop more, you found yourself wondering what your soulmates thought of the cozy shop and its somewhat eccentric owner. What were their regular orders here? Did they like having a regular order or did they change it up? You found yourself wanting to know how they decorate their rooms, if they like to read, what they like to watch. You wanted to get to know your soulmates personally in this lifetime, not just what you know of them from every life passed.

A few weeks ago, a few days even perhaps, that would’ve terrified you. You would have found yourself thinking of Jisung and Minho, and these thoughts plenty, but you always shut it down knowing it was fruitless, you wouldn’t get the answers anyways. But now that was different, now they knew you, now they wanted to get to know you just like you wanted to get to know them. Now everything was different, and the two men you love of your memories have a chance to become the men of your present if you so chose.

While losing yourself in the thoughts, zoning out the conversation happening between the shop owner and your fellow Stray Kids soulmates, your eyes landed on a gorgeous trellis made of wood and covered entirely of vines and flora, reminding you painfully of the arch and altar at your wedding to the two men in one of the very first lives you had a memory of.

“Do not fret, Y/n. No one is going to show up to ruin your marriage tonight, and even if one were to try I am almost positive Changbin and Bee would stop them before you even knew about it.” Sage smiled at you over your shoulder in the mirror, helping you lace up the back of your outfit.

“My father disowned me because of this wedding, it isn’t entirely implausible for him to not try and put a stop to it.” You sighed, worrying your fingers.

Sage pulled the straps a notch tighter than they needed to go, causing you to yelp and stare at your friend incredulously. “None of that.” Was all that was muttered before you were released and spun around, Sage’s hands finding their way to your shoulders. “Now, you are going to get out there, you are going to marry both of your incredible soulmates, and you are going to let your very oafishly protective elders stop anyone who threatens a bond as beautiful as the one you share with Minho and Jisung. Do you understand me?”

All you could do was nod, tears already welling in your eyes, as you pulled Sage into a tight hug. “Thank you, my friend.”

“Oh goodness, have the waterworks started already?” Bee teased, leaning casually on the doorframe. “You look great, Y/n. And if you’re ready, so is literally everyone else.”

Squeezing Sage one last time, you smoothed out the non-existent ruffles in your clothes before exiting the building, finding Chan holding a bouquet and waiting patiently leaning against the outside of the tiny cottage. When he looked at you, the emotions welling in his eyes were all you’d ever wanted to see from your father, and while a part of you wished he would have accepted your soulmates, you're more than grateful for Chan stepping up to such an important role.

“Are you ready?”

“More ready than I have ever been for anything.”

And with that, you were led out into the field, to the altar put together with wildflowers and plants, to your soulmates eagerly awaiting you to join them, to the life you’d never regret despite what your father anticipated.

Because standing there under the floral arch, Jisung’s hand in one of yours and Minho’s in the other, you knew you could never regret them in anything for even a moment.

Minho watched as his lover paced incessantly back and forth in the cutie dorms living room.

Bee and Riley had informed them that they were in touch with Y/n, their third soulmate, and that they were going out with you for lunch today. Riley refused to tell either boy where they were going, knowing Jisung would show up without hesitation and that Minho would just to avoid leaving Jisung alone in any way.

“What if they decide they don’t want us?” Jisung finally spoke the words that had been weighing on both boys since you disappeared a few nights prior, and even more so since finding out you’d been in touch with Changbin’s and Chan’s soulmates.

If you were in touch with the other soulmates, you could have found Minho and Jisung easily at any point. If you were in touch, one of them found you that night, which means you were likely mere feet from Jisung, as he had been with Riley. There were questions flying through Minho’s head at the same rate as he could see them in Jisungs eyes, but he had to remain calm for his lover, if they were to both spiral, no one would be able to calm Jisung.

“They’re not going to decide that, Sungie. They just found out they have two soulmates, you can’t tell me it didn’t take us a while to process that one too. They’ll find their way to us when they’re ready.” Minho pulled the smaller boy into his arms, pressing gentle kisses to the crown of his head.

“What if they’re never ready, Min?” The youngers voice was soft and shaky, Minho felt his heart break at the sound.

“We can’t think like that, Ji. Y/n is having lunch with two of our family at this very moment, if they were never going to be ready they wouldn’t have agreed to that.” Minho tried to ignore the shiver that ran up his spine at saying your name aloud for the first time in this lifetime, he tried to ignore the peace brought to him just by your name alone. His hold on Jisung tightening, his head burying in the youngers neck. “We’re going to be okay.” He promised, ignoring the persistent what ifs echoing in the back of his head.

What if Jisung was right? What if you were never ready? What if you never chose them because of who they are in this life? As much as Minho wanted to negate those thoughts, memories of lives that turned out exactly like that made him question if this would be one of them.

His hand tightened around their wrist, trying to pull them back to him. “Why do you keep running away?!”

“Because I have to!” You cried, finally turning to Minho, your eyes glassy with unshed tears. “I have to.” Your voice breaking on every word.

“You don’t have to. You can stay with me, we can figure it out.”

“Figure what out? Minho, soulmates are not the end all be all. As much as I would love to just run to you, run away from everything but you, I have responsibilities. I can’t just do what I want, not in this lifetime. We’ve found each other, awesome, great, we’re still in two completely different worlds. You’d be better off trying to find the one missing from our memories, you’d have a chance to have a life with them, to be happy with them. Do that Minho. Find our third soulmate, forget about me, and be happy. Because I can never be, that’s just not how this life played out for me.”

“You’re telling me that despite everything, you’re not choosing me?”

“God why do you have such selective hearing?! I don’t get a choice Minho. I never did! I was born into the fucking mafia, people don’t get to just walk away from that simply because they found their soulmate.

“Soulmates are a weakness just waiting to be exploited, you’ll live your whole life constantly looking over your shoulder, constantly in danger, because of me. Is that really what you want for yourself? For whoever we’re missing? Is that the life you’d choose for someone else? Because I wouldn’t choose this life for anyone and I am begging you to leave Minho. Get out while no one knows, get out while there’s no chance for them to know.”

“But I’ll know.” He hated how broken his voice sounded even to his own ears. “And you’ll know.”

Your eyes searched his, looking for any sign that he would listen to you, that he’d walk away and never look back. But all you found was a horrifying sense of finality.

Minho wanted to take it away, let you be free of this world you were forced into. He wanted to take your hand in his and never let go, no matter the danger that came with it.

He watched as your face morphed from the helpless near tears girl into a cold and emotionless woman, and it terrified him that you had been forced to learn to shed all resemblance of emotion within a blink.

“I will not ever choose you over my family in this lifetime, Lee Minho. Your life isn’t of importance to me and if you’re so keen to get yourself murdered trying to talk me into leaving with you, then so be it. I won’t come to your rescue.” Saying the words felt like driving a knife right into your own heart and twisting, the look on his face as his grip loosened on your wrist only adding to the immense guilt.

Ripping your arm away from his grasp, you turned on your heel, head held high, tears threatening your lashes, and left him standing there.

Jisung felt like he couldn’t breathe. All he could do was pace around like a lunatic, and every now and again stop to stare at his hands. The hands that held you, the hands that let you go.

Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the way your eyes lit up, the way your smile outshines every star and sunrise he’d ever witnessed. He could hear the perfect harmony of you and Minho singing together, the way you didn’t miss a single syllable in any of his rap parts.

Jisung thought finding you would bring him peace, completeness, the sense of warmth he already knew with Minho, and for those few minutes he had you, you did.

Now, Jisung figured just knowing you were nearby, knowing you were close enough that maybe he would run into you again would ease the pain in his chest at the memories flashing through his mind, but when Riley informed him that they were on their way to get lunch with Bee, and you, and refusing to tell him where they were going, he felt his heart shatter all over again. His breathing growing uneven at the idea of you being close enough to enjoy lunch with two of his closest friends, and yet nowhere near him.

So Jisung paced. He walked back and forth and back again until he was dizzy, trying to rid his body of a pent up energy he had no idea what to do with. If he stopped, he assumed he’d collapse into a full blown panic attack, if that were to happen Minho would have to calm him down, and if Minho has to focus on keeping Jisung level headed, he won’t be able to grieve your absence too.

Jisung knew he was spiraling, knew he wouldn’t be able to bring himself out of it this time, but he had to pretend he was okay, he had to let Minho spiral if he needed to, which means he can’t.

He tried to distract himself. He thought of Minho, of the way he curls into him in his sleep. How Minho nudges his hand, silently begging him to keep scratching his scalp when Jisung gets distracted and stops for any longer than five seconds. The memories of how the late afternoon light filters across Minho’s features, making him look like one of those beautiful paintings Hyunjin talks their ears off about.

But within these thoughts of his incredible soulmate, flitters in you. The way you had a habit of playing with Jisungs hands, he wondered if you’d still do that in this lifetime. He fell into thinking of the way you would stick your tongue out and furrow your brows when you focused too hard on anything, from washing dishes to sewing up a stab wound. He wondered why he had memories of you sewing up stab wounds, and which lives those were from, what you were like in those lifetimes outside the flits of memories he was gifted from the short amount of time he got to be by your side in this one.

No matter how hard he tried, everything kept coming back to you. Trying to distract himself by thinking of his other soulmate would lead to memories of him coming home to find both of you curled up together, fragments of time stilled in his mind of the two of you, smiling at each other, at him. He knew he would lose his mind if he were to be forced to remember you in every single way and never get to experience any of it outside of those few minutes he had on the street.

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

Your voice was like a melody to his ears, despite the harsh words echoing from it.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be here.” He countered.

Despite the racing of his heart, the familiarity of you, he had a job. One that required getting through you at any cost.

“Whatever it is you were sent here for, think very hard, is it worth the cost of your life?”

Jisung didn’t really put a cost on his life. He was raised and trained for one thing only, to carry out orders by any means necessary. And, as if you could sense that in him, you shifted your relaxed stance just slightly, preparing for an attack, but softened your features.

“There is more to life than what you know, little one.”

At the nickname, he lunged, but it was as if you knew exactly what to expect, perrying and gently placing your hand on his arm, sending the both of you headlong into forgotten memories and lives.

Coming to, Jisungs guard flew up. He didn’t move, didn’t attempt to attack you, but he shut down every possible emotion you could try to gather from him.

“I can show you a better world. One where you’d be in control of your own life, where you’d have an answer to what is and isn’t worth the cost of it.”

Your words were gentle, everything about you seemed to be gentle. You softened your stance, returning to the relaxed position, no longer planning to attack him or counter any attacks from him.

“If you give me a chance, I could give you the world.”

“I think I want to meet them.”

Riley shot up from their position sprawled across your couch, Bee’s mouth dropping open in shock.

“Are you serious?” Riley asked, searching your face for any sense of unease or dishonesty.

You’d been spending endless hours with the two, they’d quickly become your closest friends, aside from Lia. You’d also come to spend a lot of time at Sage’s cafe, quickly learning they are very much a piece of your many lives as well. You were still unsure of how exactly Sage fit into the grand puzzle of lifetimes spent with the same friend group, but you knew they did. Your suspicions only confirmed with Riley and Bee’s agreeance of having Sage within their past lives memories as well.

“Y/n/n, I need you to be so for fucking real right now, do you actually want to meet them?”

You’d seen Bee get serious about stuff before, they weren’t all jokes all the time, but the way they were staring at you at that moment, you knew you had to give the complete honest truth. Bee was protective, and while that insane protective streak has since expanded to you as well, you knew without a shadow of a doubt they’d evescrate you before you had a chance to even think about hurting Minho or Jisung.

“I’m terrified of it, that hasn’t changed. But maybe you’re right, maybe it will work out.” You smile at your friends. “I think I’m ready to risk finding out.”

It didn’t take even twenty whole minutes to get a meeting set up, Riley and Bee dragging you to your room to get you dressed and ready.

“Is it really a good idea to do this now? I mean, it’s really fast, don’t they want time to like, I don’t know, prepare or something?” You’d been rambling the whole time Bee sat on your lap to hold you in place while fixing your hair.

“No. Because ‘giving them time’ only gives you time to back out and the last thing we need right now is Ji going into another spiral because he thinks you don’t want them.” You could practically hear the roll of Bee’s eyes as they finally got off you, surveying their handiwork.

Huffing, you accept your fate as Riley forces an outfit into your arms and shoves you into your bathroom, pulling the door shut.

After getting changed and taking in your appearance, you had to admit, Bee and Riley were good. You’d looked hot, almost to the point of it feeling like it was too much. Taking a deep breath and hyping yourself up in the mirror, you open the door to find Bee and Riley lounging in the hallway, both looking up upon hearing the door open, Riley grinning and Bee letting out a piercing whistle as they take you in, high fiving.

“You’re gonna knock 'em dead, babe.” Bee winked.

You blushed, but couldn’t help the smile stretching across your lips.

“Alright then, let’s do this.”

Not every life went smoothly, not every meeting was practically gold and rainbows. But this one was. Childhood friends and also soulmates is nearly unheard of, most people couldn’t fathom growing up with the memories of every life before the current. But you had met Minho and Jisung at the ripe age of five, Jisung was the baker's son, your mom was looking for work, and you and Jisung were forced to spend hours upon hours every day together.

At first neither of you really understood the full depth of your shared connection, but when you both met Minho, and shared all the same memories with him as well, your young minds didn’t have it in them to care.

Growing up, the three of you would learn the full extent of what happened, but you never had the disconnect from the memories, having your past lives almost completely integrated with your current.

“I wish we could find each other young in every lifetime. It made everything so much easier.” Jisung muttered into your hair. You hummed in contented agreement, fingers massaging Minho’s scalp.

“Unfortunately, that’s not gonna be the case Sungie. Some lives will be easier, some will be harder, there may even be some we never meet at all. But at least in this one, we’ll get to love each other for far longer than we went without.” Despite his words, Minho’s voice was a purr and you knew without a doubt that all three of you, whilst scared of what future lives may entail, were perfectly at peace in that one.

Riley and Bee had never spent so much time away from the boys.

From the very moment Changbin found Bee, they were a permanent fixture within the group. Bee helped 3Racha write and produce, they were in the studio almost as much as the group, and if they weren’t there, they weren’t far.

Riley, from the moment of finally accepting Chan at least, was never far either. They would always be around, making sure all of the boys were eating, weren’t overworking themselves, taking in enough fluids.

To put it lightly, the gap of their absences was almost painfully noticeable in the weeks they seemed to all but vanish. Ever since their lunch with Y/n, it’s been as if the two were ghosts in the skz household.

Jisung knew they were still around, the lack of moping from either of his fellow producers was proof enough, but he hadn’t seen a glimpse of them for days, maybe even weeks.

He felt as if his world was fracturing. Minho was working tirelessly on new choreography, Bee wasn’t around to help him with songs, Riley wasn’t around to make sure he was drinking water, all of his members were enjoying their break before the next comeback, and he was exhausted. Jisung didn’t know how to get out of his head, and he wasn’t sure who to ask for help from.

He knew if he kept the pace he was at, he’d inevitably spiral, and that wouldn’t be any good for anyone. Jisung had decided to hide away in his room and sleep, it was the best answer he could come up with, but just as sleep was threatening to finally overtake him, his door burst open, a downright giddy Changbin standing in the threshold.

“I’m about to take a nap, tell me about it later.” Jisung groaned, turning his back to his friend before his friend could say anything.

Changbin, not having any of it, stomped over and ripped the blankets away from the smaller boy, lifting him out of bed, carrying Jisung to the bathroom, despite his protests, and threw him in the shower.

Before Jisung could complain, yell, or even get a thought in, Changbin turned the water on, drenching him in seconds.

“Y/n wants to meet, get cleaned up and ready to go in ten.” The older boy said before leaving the bathroom, closing the door behind him, and leaving an absolutely dumbfounded Jisung to slowly register the words, excitement growing with his understanding.

````

Weeks. Minho had been trying to get the choreography for the next comebacks title track down for weeks. Everything he came up with didn’t feel right, and when it did he didn’t think it looked right.

Hyunjin and Yongbok had offered to help, they’d even stayed with him, learning new dances, so Minho could see how it looked with multiple people, for a fresh perspective. But nothing was right. No matter how much Yongbok would swear he thought it flowed well, no matter how easy Hyunjin picked it up, nothing was right.

Minho knew, deep down, it wasn’t the dances that were off, it wasn’t his choreography at all. He knew it was nothing to do with anything related to music that was wrong, but the only thing he could translate the misconstrued emotions to was dance.

He created new dances every day to give his body and mind something to do, something to take away the wandering thoughts and memories. He’d rather tire himself to exhaustion than remember how it felt to have you by his side.

Minho had come to the conclusion that you were not going to choose them, and he couldn’t blame you for it at all. His hopes were up after he’d seen his only hyung work things out with his soulmate, but not everyone could find it in themselves to be with an idol. Being an idol was hard enough, dating one was a whole other demon of its own.

Despite knowing he has Jisung, despite being overwhelmingly worried about his lover, Minho simply needed to mourn the lover they never had a chance with. He needed his time to accept the fates cruelty upon their lives this time around, and then he’d help Jisung accept it as well.

So he kept dancing. For weeks.

Minho had always found solitude in an empty dance studio. The way the mirrors would be completely empty save for his figure, the silence filling a typically boisterous room, there was just something peaceful about a place meant to be filled being empty.

He was stretching, preparing for hours of working out kinks in his newest routine completely unbothered. He wasn’t even supposed to be there. They were on break, all of the boys were off doing who knows what, and they were supposed to be relaxing leading up to their busy season. Yet Minho was in the empty dance studio, all by himself.

He was lost in thoughts, already hacking away at the parts he wanted to rework, mentally trying to decipher how to fix them, when the door to the studio was nudged open. His eyes shifted to the door in the mirror, finding his only hyung standing in the doorway, a small smile gracing his features.

“You might want to put your plans for the day on hold.” Chan said without even greeting him.

“Why’s that?” Minho asked, being unable to stop the quirk of his brow.

“Because we have lunch plans. Are you sweaty?”

Minho shook his head, “Just got here, I was stretching.”

“Great, put on street shoes and let’s get out of here, we’ve gotta meet Bin and Ji at the dorms.” Chan smiled, moving to grab Minho’s bag for him.

“What’s the rush?” Jisung hadn’t mentioned any lunch plans with the other producers, but to be fair he and Jisung had been somewhat distant from one another lately.

“It’s a soulmate lunch. Me and Riles, Bin and Beebee, you and your soulmates.”

Minho nodded his agreement, very used to soulmate lunches, working on lacing his street shoes when he froze in realization.

Him and his soulmates.

````

To say you were nervous would be a gross understatement. You were downright jittery.

Bee and Riley were positioned on either side of you, both steadfast pillars of comfort bringing an almost overwhelming sense of security. You would be okay, because how could you not be with them by your side?

You’d agreed to meet at Sage's cafe for lunch, it was mutual ground and low foot traffic. Perfect for essentially a first meeting with your two idol soulmates and, from your understanding, Bee and Riley’s idol soulmates as well.

You were ready to bolt. Ready to full on leg it home and lock your door, never to come out again. Despite the peace of knowing three of your closest friends would be there, meeting them was still an absolutely terrifying concept.

The what ifs a plague playing on repeat. What if they don’t like you? What if you ruin everything for them? What if their fans find out? What if, what if, what if.

But with every bad what if, there was also a good one. What if you fit in seamlessly? What if they don’t care about their fans finding out? What if they are as scared and excited to finally meet you as you are to meet them? What if, what if, what if.

You knew you could bolt. You knew that Bee and Riley talked big, but if push came to shove and you needed an out, they’d have your back and get you out. You knew you could turn on your heel and walk the opposite way and they’d text their soulmates an update, and that yours would more than likely be devastated.

It was the fact that you could that kept you from doing so. The idea of Jisung and Minho waiting for you, the mental image of them deflating after hearing you’d change your mind, the thought of them being upset due to your actions, pushed you forward, kept you walking, and you knew no matter what you walked in on, you wouldn’t be able to back out now. You wouldn’t be the one to break the loves of your every lifetime.

Seeing the familiar shop, your heart was in your throat. There would be no turning back, no changing your mind. In choosing to meet them, you chose to give them the ball, everything would be up to them, and the closer you got to the cozy shop, the more you realized you were truly okay with that.

You were never actually nervous about meeting your soulmates, you were giddy about it.

As you pushed the door open, letting the familiar sound of its little bell notify Sage of your arrival, your eyes found your soulmates in record time, both sat at the table under the trellis covered in flora and vines. Your breath caught at the smiles gracing both of their faces, and you knew.

Even though soulmates can be a painful thing, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to run away from yours again.

a/n: ahhhhh it’s almost overrrr😭🥺🥺 this was gonna be a lot angstier and then it just, wasn’t. and idk what that’s all about but I like how it turned out lol. I dragged my feet on writing this part for actual weeks and then wrote like, 5k of it in two days, so I hope it was good haha! thank you so so much for reading, please let me know your thoughts!!🫶🫶🫶

taglist: @starlostastronaut @mariteez @tired-of-life-86 @skizmee @elisiexoxo @cutiespaghetti @httpswilloww @sundownimup-1 @lolareadsimagines @rockstrhanji @quokkampi @kayleefriedchicken @vivirantshere @ciellebys

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