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#questions welcome- will try to get around them once I finish my last event ask
robo-milky · 23 days
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[MORE INFO]
[Loosely references Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde]
Nicknames:
Crema/クッレマ (Cloche) | Big Henchman (Grim) | Vet/Medic (Ace) | Tiger Prawn (Floyd) | Monsieur Fumé (Rook)
Bio:
A proud and confident man, loves nothing more than himself. He’ll act diplomatic when needed, but that exterior will crack fit if something doesn’t go his way. Mors is bad at compromising, and can be very stubborn. May act passive aggressive in retaliation. Ever the megalomaniac, he will stop at nothing to reach the top. He is a man above pretensions, like morality and ethics. Though he can be boisterous, Mors is well spoken, hurling obscure insults at those who earn his ire. No matter what, he is always in the right.
Core Values -> Accomplishment + Knowledge
Elm is the opposite of Mors, a humble and kind man. He’ll do good for the sake of it, not asking for anything in return. Can be a bit of a pushover.
Core values -> Inspiring + Empathy
Background:
From the hit series, “Loyalty Lock”, Mors is an antagonist. Was an aspiring doctor of noble birth, that got drafted by mistake. His military career consisted of being a foot soldier, medic, to army officer (through bribery and corruption). Along with him being a controversial political figure in Vostege, Mors has many enemies. This resulted in him buying hiring a special vessel from “Goldbelle’s Facility of Maids”.
Mors had no one else but himself to blame, having taken the life of his one and only ally. If he was still under her protection, would he be a free man? Arms bound by rope, wood digging into his neck, he might as well think of his last words instead of what-ifs.
Elm stepped into the dark carriage and Mors came out the of coffin.
Notable Thoughts: Mors’
“I can’t possibly imagine being buttered up so easily, like the Headmaster of this school. Hm? Why are you staring at me like that for?”
“Eugh… Not only does Miss Jin have to resemble Cloche, but they share the same name. It leaves a foul taste in my mouth.”
“Grim is a curious specimen, indeed! I’m no veterinarian, by any means, but I would love to take a closer look at him when he is still.”
“Mr. Trappola? The boy’s clever, alright. He always knows just the right things to say.”
“I suppose Mr. Spade is quite cute, is he not? Always so eager to please.”
“Mr. Howl is alright for a beastman… He is at least well disciplined. ”
“Mr. Pergameno is surprisingly knowledgeable of protective eyewear. I may ask him for recommendations, sometime.”
“Lucius seems to hiss at me whenever I stop by and chat with Professor Trein. I wonder why, hohoh…”
“Professor Crewel would make a fine drill sergeant. The crack of his whip brings me back to my days of youth.”
“Coach Vargas’ physique is extraordinary. I’d like to someday study his veins, if given the opportunity to.”
“The Mystery Shop always somehow has everything I need. I wouldn’t ask Mr. Sam any questions he wouldn’t ask me.”
Notable Thoughts: Others’
“Mr. Clematis? Such a nice and helpful man! Taking on the task of monitoring the library by himself, on top of his studies.” - Crowley
“It could have been anyone else from ‘Loyalty Lock’ to get isekai’d here, but it just had to be him.” - Cloche
“Eek! Hide me! Do not make that freak come near me, please!” - Grim
“Can you patch me up instead? I don’t wanna get another scolding from the Vet!” - Ace
“Yeah, of course I respect Mors! He’s been taking the time to help me with studying and some reading.” - Deuce
“Mors’ insistence of live specimens, for dissections, stresses me out a little, but that’s how he did it back in his time… haha…” - Trey
“If I had to choose between dealing with Rook and dealing with Mors, I’m taking Mors all the way. At least he can leave me alone.” - Ruggie
“That geezer has some magic within him, but it’s unlike any I’ve seen before. It smells off.” - Leona
“I’ve got to return the handkerchief Mors gave me someday!” - Leikata
“Ah, Mors! Talking with him gives me nostalgia. It’s not bad looking back into the past.” - Lilia
Extras/Trivia:
- Harbours a strong dislike of all beastmen, and a preference for humans
- Pops in and out of any classes if it interests him
- His glasses are pinched on the bridge of his nose
- May go off on a tangent about all the “incompetent people” of his world when drunk
- Always faintly smells of smoke. Cigar? Gun powder? …Something else?
- Addresses most of the cast as adults, since they would have “reached maturity” where he is
- Oddly flattered that there is a “series based on his life events and greatness”
- Greys early because of stress in his youth
Gallery:
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ggidolsmuts · 5 months
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Everflow - Everglow Yiren
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Blah blah blah something something something hello! That's all you understood from the words coming out of the MC's mouth. What did your publication want from this? You're not going to complain, because hey, free business trip, but what was the point of sending someone who barely understood the language? You mingle around, not recognizing any of your fellow colleagues, but you do notice someone.
"Hello, you're here by yourself too?"
"No I'm— I mean yes, unfortunately." Said someone is dressed in a tiny black dress, tapping on her phone in a secluded corner all by herself. She gives you a lookover, before putting her phone back into her purse. "You're here alone too?"
"Yes. You're here for the event too?"
"Yes, work. You?"
"Same." You try to think what job would allow her to come to an event like this dressed like that, but she interrupts you with a question.
"Boring isn't it? How about we have some fun before the event starts?"
"What do you have in mind?" She grabs your wrist and pulls you in.
"Wrong question, you should be asking me." Her breath tickles your ear. "What will I get in you?"
You are left contemplating the correct question as she leads you away into a thankfully unoccupied bathroom. You press her against the sink, kissing a complete stranger just minutes, if not seconds ago. Your lips drift away from hers, moving down her chin, only for her to pull away slightly.
"No marks, and no time." The young woman answers the question for you, her hands going to your trousers to unbuckle them. She takes off her panties and hikes up her tight dress best she can. "Just pull out." With a hiss through gritted teeth you push into her.
"Oh, oh fuck you're big!" Your ego stroked by her words and tightness around you, you start slowly, easing in and out of her. But it doesn't last for long as she's begging you to get her off, adding a lot of wetness to your connection.
"More please, faster, faster!" Your lady friend braces herself against the sinktop, nails almost breaking as she grips the cold marble. With how big you are she can feel every vein and texture of your tool inside her, and it feels so fucking good. The pleasure builds up too quickly, and she has to bite her lip to stifle a scream. "MMMMMMPH!" She bites the back of her hand and muffles it best she can. The lights in the bathroom are blurry and spinning when she opens her eyes again.
"Yiren? Yiren are you there?"
"Oh shit, I have to go!" To your bewilderment your short-lived fling pushes you away, quickly pulling her dress back down before leaving you in the lurch. Your dick is no more than a panty holder, the two things left dangling in the bathroom. You quickly grab her underwear off the countertop, and briefly deliberate finishing yourself; you decide not to once you look around and find no urinals in the bathroom. You zip up best you can, groaning at the tightness of your crotch area and dampness of your trousers—she had squirted all over you and you're still hard.
"Please welcome to the stage, Everglow's Yiren!" You are left dumbfounded as you watch the woman you were several inches in earlier walk on stage, going commando unbeknownst to everyone else in the audience.
"Hello, I'm Yiren!" She presses her legs together, making sure to not accidentally flash anyone. Her thighs feel uncomfortably wet, but Yiren doesn't have time to consider things while she's on stage, so she focuses on interacting with the MC and the crowd, saying nice things and looking pretty. After her job is complete, Yiren disappears from your sight for a while, but you soon find her trying to find you.
"Hey, do you have my clothing?"
"Your clothing? Miss Yiren, what do you mean?" you ask jokingly, pulling out the thin fabric of Yiren's underwear briefly before she shoves it back in your pocket.
"Not here!"
"I agree, you finished your job on stage, you should finish your other job too. I won't ask you to wash my pants though."
"What?"
"You made a mess all over them, utterly drenched."
"I didn't— I don't, you know, do that."
"My pants and the puddle the poor janitor has to clean later will disagree, but I have more pressing concerns." Yiren blushes, but she doesn't back away from you. She looks around, making sure that the two of you wouldn't be observed leaving the event.
"Fine, I have a room in the hotel, let's go there."
There is more than the two of you in the elevator up, so when Yiren lets you into her room you kick the door closed and wrap your arm around her tiny waist right away.
"You left me really high and dry, well, not dry, but hanging."
"Tch, that's why you're here now no?" Yiren is mildly annoyed at your constant reference to her squirting, and she shuts you up by undoing your trousers. The pretty face on stage doing her job earlier is now a pretty face on her knees doing a blowjob as she pulls your boxers down and pushes her lips over your cock. Yiren clearly wanted to get it over with, and you were edged enough earlier that you give in easily, your knees buckling as she wraps her tongue around your shaft and coaxing your time-delayed release down her throat.
"Looks like you're the only one squirting," she jabs you after wiping her mouth.
"We can go back there and take a look, if you're someone that likes to return to the scene of their 'crime'."
"I-I don't! But I don't squirt either!"
"Prove it, go ahead and touch yourself. It'll give me time to get hard again too." You dangle the (or rather, your) carrot in front of Yiren, and it is enticing—she remembers how good it felt in the bathroom earlier, and she would not mind a round two regardless.
"Fine." You watch Yiren slip out of her little black dress, her pale skin nicely matching the white sheets she gets on. A hand slips between her legs, but she keeps them closed.
"Open your legs, don't want you squirting and then trying to hide it." Yiren glares at you, but her knees part slightly, showing you her finger lightly rubbing her clit. You nod and have her continue, and Yiren's eyes close. Her legs begin to splay open as she continues rubbing herself, but she doesn't speed up, her other hand merely fondling her small breasts as you watch her climb. Her movements are small but practiced, no doubt how she touched herself back at the dorms—she needed to be quiet, to not be noticed, just enough to get her over the edge.
"Mm!" A small squeak, and her legs relax on to the bed. "I— I came, see, no squirting." Yiren cheeks are pink, but she glares at you to prove her point. She had just given herself a "light" orgasm, a "light" on the malatang spiciness scale—just enough to leave her senses tingling, but not nearly satisfying enough. Which is why you were here in the first place.
"If that's how you touch yourself I'm not surprised."
"How dare you— I'd like to see you try!" Yiren tries to be outraged, but her eyes are glued on your recovered hardness.
"Oh I plan to. I'll make sure you can't stop squirting." A warmth goes through her body as you lay a large hand on her hip—you hadn't touched her quite like this, skin-on-skin contact, in the bathroom earlier.
"You can try, but if you don't, and you won't, I'm not going to help get you off again even if I cum."
"You're going to blue ball me again?" you ask even as Yiren unbuttons your shirt. She unconsciously licks her lips as she takes in your naked body.
"Hey, that time was out of my control, unless you wanted us to get caught! But yes, if you really think you can make me do it, you should put something on the line." She draws you in, her lips inches from yours. She smells like strawberry.
"Fine, you should put something on the line too."
"Like what?"
"If I make you squirt, I get to use you until you stop squirting, you don't get to say stop."
"I have—" Yiren stops herself. She had a flight out tomorrow morning, but did she really think it would go that long? No, no it wouldn't. "Never mind, yes, that's fine." She agrees without further thought, pulling you in for a hungry kiss. She wants to get off on you again, and even if she did squirt by some miracle, it'd be a one-off, and she could still ditch you after by faking an orgasm. Yes, that'd be the play. So Yiren lets herself relax the first round, feeling you up with her wandering hands.
"You like what you see?"
"Yes, otherwise I wouldn't have led you to the bathroom earlier."
"I'm glad, let me get started then." Without a further word Yiren feels two fingers on her belly drag themselves down between her legs. They felt huge, each as large as one of the toys she would use occasionally.
"Wait— Ah!" You plunge two fingers into her and start fingerfucking her. Yiren merely rubbed her clit earlier, ramping up the pleasure slowly, and then doing just enough to tip her over. If her masturbation was a "light" orgasm, you want to make this one "explosive". Her head snaps back as you dig around her roughly, feeling for her g-spot, and finding it when she reacts abruptly—a sharp moan, a clench of her walls, and a hand on your arm, trying to ward you off.
No, wait! Everything is happening too fast for Yiren to process—she's being rubbed in an area she never reaches herself, and your thumb is too demanding, pressing and tapping on her clit like an impatient customer demanding a waiter to serve him water. Her hand is on your arm, jerking along with your rough movements, she needs to push you away, yet she can't summon the strength, the fingers inside her feel so good, too good. A warmth floods her body when she senses a fingerpad on her nipple, adding another sensation to her overloaded senses.
"Mmmmmmm!" Yiren snaps, covering her mouth with a raised arm. Yet there's no covering her lower mouth as you remove your fingers, and all the "overload" in Yiren squirts out, spraying your arm with clear slick, her juices served on a platter. She twitches and trembles on the bed, her toned tummy drumming up and down on the bed as she rides out her intense climax. Her vision white and breathing deeply, Yiren takes a while to open her eyes again, and to her dismay she sees your hand, liquid dripping off your fingertips.
"You squirted."
"J-Just this once." You took that as a challenge.
Not what I meant! Yiren throws her head back again as you bury your head between her legs, your tongue an utterly foreign and delightful muscle against her wetness. Your tongue wriggles past her lips, and Yiren has to plant her hand over your head. Presumably she wants you to stop moving, to give her time to recover, but all that happens is her tensing up, forcing your head harder against her pussy. Your arms hook around her thighs, and you continue to eat her out even as her hips move every which way. All the movement makes you bump against her clit repeatedly, and soon, rather than trying to get away from you, Yiren's just rotating her hips without purpose, grinding her crotch against your face as she chases her orgasm.
Fuck, why does it feel so good?! She bemoans the pleasure. Your teeth grazes against her swollen clit, and Yiren yells. When you wrap your lips around the nub and suck, Yiren screams, a surge of lightning going up her spine before rushing out of her pussy, splashing her juices all over your chin. You quickly place your mouth over her pussy to drink up the rest of it, making a point of wiping your mouth when she has her eyes open again.
"You taste delicious."
"S-Shut up. When are you going to fuck me hmm? You won't get to get off if I don't squirt the next time." Yiren sees you smile, and you silently get up to move her around the bed. She finds herself facing the mirror, and before she knows it you're behind her, her back pressed against your chest. She had prepared herself to get on all fours, but to her surprise you've made her sit and pushed her legs open, your own legs keeping her spread lewdly. Your head dips to her ear, and she shivers against you when you whisper.
"I'm not worried. Besides, I thought you might want to watch yourself squirt. Maybe then you'll admit it."
With your legs locking hers in place, Yiren watches your hand go down her body. She keels against you when you slide two fingers into her once more. This time thankfully you don't focus on her g-spot, drawing your digits out soon after. Maybe I can— Yiren yelps as you slam your fingers back in, and with your body bracing Yiren, she can't back away, it just makes your fingers get even deeper into her. I can't, I can't! Your palm strikes against her clit every time you thrust your fingers into her. She's already close again, and even Yiren knows she's going to squirt.
"Look in the mirror." Yiren forces her eyes open, and you hook her own legs a little further back, spreading her out even more. Her glossy eyes watch your hand go even faster in and out of her, there's no way she can stay watching it—
"Nngaaah!" A wild yell escapes her, her mind on a different plane of reality as she watches herself through the mirror. The Yiren in the mirror throws her hips off the bed as the hand pulls back, and it is a gush of juice that explodes out of her pussy. Not just a singular gush too—over and over Yiren bucks her hips off the bed, each firing off their own jet of squirt. The lithe girl is trembling and sweating, the sheets beneath her soaked with all kinds of fluids.
"God you're such a perfect squirter..." your whispers rouse Yiren from her stupor, and she sees herself in the mirror, droplets of her own girlcum splattered across the face looking back.
I-I'm not a squirter! Am I? Doubt sets in on Yiren. And your sinful words don't help at all.
"You've been holding back on yourself, holding back on me, this whole time. You should see yourself squirt again."
"N-No, I don't want to, don't want to watch!" You grin and push Yiren's legs together, before hooking your arm under her legs and pulling them up. Her back pressed against you, you pull her legs towards her chest, folding Yiren in half, and now she's staring at her knees instead of the mirror.
"Fine, just listen then." In the folded position Yiren can barely catch her breath as you strum on her clit, and in her overstimulated state she wails before going silent in orgasm. She squirts once more, and despite being unable to see the mirror, Yiren hears the spray land heavily on the mirror, each drop a thunder in her ears.
"Did you squirt then?" you ask her, and she blushes and tries to shy away from you.
"Yes."
"Are you a squirter?"
"N-No."
"Not admitting it yet?" You release your hold on her, letting her flop on to the bed as you roll on top of her. "I am going to fuck you now."
"No!" She pushes you away in a hurry. "I mean, let me be on top."
"If you want." You get on your back, and Yiren clambers on top of you. Gone is her prettily coiffed hair and makeup, replaced with a disheveled, sweaty, and drained look. She has been pushed to her limits tonight, the pleasure and forbidden sensation of squirting driving her insane, yet she's desirous for more. Any idea of faking an orgasm to just get out of the deal is gone from her head—she wants to cum, and she wants to not squirt to prove a pointless point.
Even after all of your handiwork on her pussy, it still doesn't compare to how full you feel inside her, and Yiren moans deliriously as she hilts herself on you. This is it! She cries in her head, immediately beginning to grind her hips on you.
"You like my cock don't you?"
"I, uhhnngh, I love it!" Her hands are on your chest, and she squeezes your pecs as she grinds. Yiren's head is spinning as the pleasure she had felt in the bathroom quickie earlier returns, your shaft rubbing all the right spots along her drenched walls. But I can't squirt! She forces herself to slow down her movements, denying herself some of the pleasure, to hopefully bring herself to a small orgasm rather than another wet one.
You see through her thoughts immediately as she shuts her eyes, brows furrowed in concentration.
"Why are you going slow Yiren?"
"You know why, damn it!"
"Is that why you wanted to be on top? So you can control the pace?"
"Yes, oh fuck!" she whines as she unfortunately finds the perfect angle to fuck herself on you.
"You do know that I can just hold you there and thrust upwards right? I can make you squirt all over my cock whenever—" You put one hand on her waist. "I—" You put your other hand on her waist, and Yiren freezes, as if waiting for you to just do as you say, to just ruin her with another squirting orgasm. "Want, but I won't." You let go of her, and Yiren's too stunned to speak momentarily. You smirk at her undulating body though, unconsciously beginning to move in circles again.
"W-Why did you st— Why not?"
"I want you to make yourself squirt. I can make you do it anytime, but can you?"
"I don't want to! I won't!"
"Are you sure? I can feel you clenching around me, are you thinking about how it would feel when you squirt again? Thinking about how I would do it?"
"No!"
"I would grab your tiny little waist, and then I would jam you down as I thrust up, god I would get so deep in you. You squirted before in the bathroom, there's no way you won't squirt again."
"No, not this time!" Yiren can't see you grin as she begins to lose her mind—she finally admits to squirting in the bathroom earlier.
"And then I would roll you over so I can properly fuck you, and I won't stop until you admit you're a squirter, and then make you squirt again and again."
"I won't say that— mmmm!" As you argue with Yiren her hips begin to move with a mind of their own, moving faster and faster. Her moans rise in pitch as she finds the perfect angle again and again. Stop Yiren, you need to stop! A little inner voice begins to shout, but it is fighting against the tidal roar of another orgasm.
Yiren don't! It is far too late.
"I can't, I'm sorry, NO—" Yiren wails loudly and begins to give in.
Schlick
"What are you sorry about Yiren?"
"I— I'm going to cum!"
Schlick Shlop
"Are you going to squirt on my cock?"
"Mmm, mmm!" She tries to shake her head, but she's bouncing on your cock, and she ends up nodding comically instead.
"Say it!"
Schlick Shlop Shlosh
"I'm— Ohh I'm going to, I'm going to nngh... I'm squirting—" The rest of it devolves into unintelligible groans as Yiren's control is washed away. You have to focus on not cumming with Yiren as she contracts around you, but you still feel your balls get drenched in her warm fluids, and the added squelch you now hear from Yiren's movements finish her original sentence—Yiren has flooded your connection with her juices and squirted all over your cock. You hold Yiren and roll the two of you, switching positions and making the twitching idol squirt a little more in the process.
"You really are a huge squirter aren't you?"
"Don't move, please don't move yet!" Yiren clings on to you, her walls still clenching around you as she rides out the last waves of her peak. "I-I'm a squirter, ok? I admit it."
"Good, then I don't want you to hold back. I'm going to fuck you, and I want you to tell me when you're squirting."
"Mm, ahh!" You start moving as soon as Yiren squeaks her understanding. As if finally unblocked and unchained, she throws her head back, moaning loudly when you thick rod runs itself in and out of her.
It's too good, it's so good— "Ugh I'm cumming!" It only takes a few thrusts for the overstimulated Yiren to cum again, and psshh you pull out, a jet of liquid spraying your stomach. As soon as she's done you plunge back in, pumping Yiren for her next gush.
"Ohhh yes!" Tears leak out from Yiren's eyes as she bucks her hips and squirts again. She can't believe how good it feels to squirt, the warm juices evidence of her own extreme pleasure. How can she ever go back to her feeble masturbation, how can she go "dry" again? She's shouting herself hoarse, but she doesn't even care if the whole floor hears her scream.
"I'm squirting again!"
"You're such a fucking hot squirter," you growl, driving into her faster and harder, chasing your own orgasm as you fuck Yiren to several squirting orgasms, each loudly announced. Your bodies are covered in sweat and slick, droplets of each splattered all over your violent forms.
"Guhnngh!" Yiren's brow contracts as you nudge at her cervix on an extra-deep thrust, and her walls clench around you violently as you nudge her again and again and again. "God— guh, uh, uh, nngh!" She feels your tip press on her womb firmly, and she loses all control.
"FUCK!" You pull out just in time, and your load fires up her body, splattering Yiren all the way to her neck. Yiren's world goes white, just as white as your load covering her while she explodes in her wettest orgasm yet. Her first blast hits you square in the chest, and the following jet sprays cover your entire torso. By the time her hips finally stop bucking, her entire body is flush in exertion and completely limp below you, as if every last bit of strength in her has been expelled in the form of girlcum all over your body.
Not caring about the mess you collapse on top of her, feeling Yiren quivering beneath you. The two of you take long minutes to recover, and you are the first to manage to put together a sentence.
"We should clean up," you whisper. But she shakes her head.
"I-I can't move." Her limbs still feel weak and numb, the pleasure nerves in her head still firing. You half carry and half drag Yiren into the shower, turning the hot water on and letting it wash over the two of you. But you're not done with Yiren yet.
"No..." Yiren feels your hand go between her legs, and she braces herself against the shower wall. A few rubs on her sensitive nub, and a weak flow of slick trickles down her leg before joining the shower water down the drain.
"You can end this now," you whisper in her ear, and Yiren finally realizes what you mean—in the shower she can just lie, say she didn't squirt, and you would end the session. You continue rubbing her slit, feeling Yiren tense in a weak orgasm, and her juices spray over your fingers weakly.
"I-I didn't squirt there." You look Yiren in the eyes, and they are round and tired, eager for rest.
"I see, I failed then. We're done." She slumps against the wall, sliding down to the floor. You sit down next to her, gently shampooing and soaping her up (to small overstimulated whimpers), helping Yiren finally get clean before quickly washing up yourself.
"Can you get up?" Yiren nods, standing up like a baby deer as you hand her a towel and give her a robe after. She hugs you tightly as the two of you exit the bathroom, her head buried in your chest—she's sobbing into it, overcome with emotion at what just happened tonight.
"Yiren?"
"I'm so embarrassed, I don't know what to say."
"I had a wonderful time tonight, thank you. I won't say anything about tonight to anyone."
"Okay, thank you. I umm, I have to leave tomorrow morning."
"So do I, you should rest as much as you can, and drink lots of water."
"Right..." Yiren blushes at the comment, and you feel her get warm against you as the two of you survey the water damage—Yiren has likely soaked the mattress, the sheets clinging to it translucently. "Oh god how am I going to explain this, what if the hotel finds out?"
"They'll keep quiet, that's what they're paid to do. Just say you spilled a pot of water or something and that you're very sorry."
"I'll try that."
"Yes, good. I should go, I'll let you rest." You gently dislodge Yiren from your arm, but she's clingy.
"I-I never felt like that before, it never feels that good."
"I'm glad, now you know what's possible. Next time, you should have a towel when you do it yourself."
"No, I want to see you again." Yiren's eyes are wide and twinkling—she's putting the idol charm on you, the little firecracker you fucked in the bathroom coming back strong.
"Fine, here's my business card. Don't risk it, remember we almost got caught earlier," you remind her.
"I will worry about that. It's my neck on the line." You chuckle and shake your head, giving her a goodbye hug and getting a goodbye peck in return.
You return to Korea separately from Yiren, and you don't expect to hear from her for a while—she is an idol after all.
Ding! Or not.
I'm off next Wednesday, can I see you then?
Well, at least that day's weather forecast settled.
Wet.
A/N: I wrote this purely because I wanted to do an "Everglow/flow" pun lol and wanted to use that little black dress pic of hers, thanks for reading!
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itsscatballou · 1 year
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The End Will Justify It All - Chapter 6
A Negan Series
Chapter 5 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 1
Warnings - guns, shooting, wounds, blood, violence, captivity, illness, and some language. 18+ only.
Feedback is welcome!
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This was wrong.
There were too many. How had this happened?
She’d sent a note through a Savior to Simon earlier in the day to meet her for a drink at the fire after her dinner with Negan, which meant there should be three guys along the fence: Simon at the fire on the far end, and two guys on guard.
She counted 14 right now, maybe more, they kept moving. She looked at Daryl and Sherry, hunched down beside her, the three of them hiding behind a stack of wood crates. There were enough stacks and barrels between them and the hole she’d strategically placed in the fence that in the dark of night, they could get most of the way unseen.  The last ten yards to the hole was so exposed that no matter how well they timed the run, with this many eyes looking around, they would be seen.
Everything else had gone perfectly today. Fat Joey didn’t question her at all when she told him Dwight asked her to tune up his bike and have it waiting outside the gate for him. She had a whole story ready to explain where Dwight was going and why, but he could not have cared less. He was just happy to be speaking to her. She smiled sweetly at him, and he handed her the keys without another thought.
She’d asked Sherry to deliver Dwight’s lunch to him in front of Daryl’s cell today, so she could get to her target practice early.
“Hey, before I forget,” she said to Sherry as she handed her Dwight’s tray with a BLT, pickle, and glass of iced sweet tea, “can you meet me in the stairwell after my dinner with Negan tonight? I just need to talk for a while.” Sherry agreed, happily, as she walked away with the tray of food.
Her dinner with Negan was normal, if not a little awkward after the events of the night before. They ate, they played Scrabble, and they drank. She needed the drink. She found herself a little too distracted by every move of his mouth, flashes of their encounter last night trying to make their way into her mind. She had to force herself to focus on her Scrabble tiles more than once. It didn’t help that Negan played suggestive words, with that wicked grin, every chance he got. She was starting to sweat. She offered to refill their drinks when they were about halfway through the game and left him staring at his tiles while she worked at the bar cart. She delivered a well-timed joke and they both chuckled as she tipped the small bag of crushed sleeping pills into his whiskey. Swirling the glass around as she walked back, she smiled to herself as the powder dissolved in the amber liquid.
He'd emptied the glass by the time the game finished, him beating her for the first time. She wished she’d purposefully let that happen.  She bid him goodnight. She even kissed him on the cheek before leaving, and grinned again.
Dwight was passed out in his chair outside Daryl’s cell, as she expected. She’d put enough crushed sleeping pills in both his mayo and his sweet tea to knock Fat Joey out, but she couldn’t risk him waking up and ruining it all.
Daryl stared at her wide-eyed when she opened his cell and dragged the sleeping Dwight into it. She wanted to embrace Daryl, kiss him, and explain everything, but she had the escape planned very specifically. There just wasn’t time. She settled for one deep but quick kiss and held his hands as she instructed him to follow her closely, silently, and do exactly what she said.
They tiptoed as fast as they could down the halls, only having to duck into an empty room once to hide from a passerby. When they reached the stairwell, they found Sherry where she’d said she’d be. Sherry seemed to understand what was happening as soon as she saw Daryl, and without a word followed them both down the stairs.
“Wassat?” Daryl asked her as she grabbed a backpack from a dark corner at the bottom of the stairs.
“Supplies,” she answered, flinging it on her back and motioning for them to hide against the wall while she opened the door to outside.
They crouched, scampered, and crawled in the dark, finally making it here, where she was frozen, trying to figure out what went wrong. She hadn’t planned for this many guys; there shouldn’t be this many guys.
“Wha’s wrong?” Daryl asked her, feeling her stress.
“Just let me think for a second,” she whispered back.
She knew it wasn’t possible. She couldn’t get them all out without them being seen. If they were seen, they’d be hunted down. What would follow that made her stomach turn.
She knew what she had to do.
She turned to Daryl, kissed him hard and passionately. She handed him the bag of supplies and told him, “Stay low behind the row of stacks and barrels, when you get to the end, time it so no one sees you, and make a run straight to the fence. There is a hole cut out there, you can’t see it until you’re on it. Whatever you do, just keep going. When you get to the woods, follow the cuts in the tree like you taught me, you’ll find a bike ready to go. Do not wait for me, I will find you. Take Sherry wherever she wants to go, and then you go somewhere else. Daryl,” she held his face in her hands and looked hard in his eyes, “do not go back to Alexandria. Find another community to hide in until it’s safe to contact Rick.”
She looked at Sherry, “whatever happens here, keep going. Make him keep going.”
Sherry hugged her as she said, “I will. Thank you.”
Daryl started to argue, but she gently pushed him. She watched as they turned and slipped away into the dark.
When they’d gotten far enough away, she took a deep breath and stood, stepping into the flood lights. All the guys stopped moving and looked at her. She looked toward Simon, who should have been expecting her, and her heart stopped. Standing right beside him, with his arms crossed and Lucille hanging from one hand, was Negan. Well, his sleeping pills didn’t work, she thought.
“Tsk tsk tsk,” he shook his head, “well, boys, it looks like you were telling me the truth. Unlike Y/N here, who has been lying to me…”
When she said nothing, Negan turned to Simon, “I believe you two were going to be having a drink together? Well, what the hell? Let’s have a drink!”
And there it was, exactly what she needed. What Daryl and Sherry needed. “Negan, I’m so glad you’re joining us!” she exclaimed, seeing a flash of surprise across of Negan’s face at her response. “I love having drinks around the fire with friends! In fact, why don’t we invite everyone?”
She spun in a half circle, looking at each Savior in area. “Negan and I would like to invite you all to have a drink with us right now,” and when only a few moved toward her she added, “on Negan!”
They all moved at that, smiles spreading across their faces, and some swatting her arm in thanks as they passed. She smiled at Negan as they all filed in around the fire, far from the fence Daryl and Sherry should be approaching now.
She thought she heard the ting of metal moving. She smiled to herself.
She spent the next hour and a half making her rounds with the guys at the fire, joking with most of them, asking some of them about their girlfriends or wives. Everyone enjoying the beers she’d provided on Negan’s tab. When she felt she’d given Daryl and Sherry a big enough safety net of time, she said her goodnights and made her way back to the building.
She was almost to the door when Negan called from the group, “Y/n! You can’t go yet! You and Simon barely spoke, and I for one, would like to know what it was you wanted to talk about that brought you out in on this cold night, sneaking around like a rat, to talk in the dark…”
------
She braced herself for whatever he was about to say or do. She could almost see the fury radiating from him in waves. It no longer mattered what happened to her, she could handle it. Or maybe she couldn’t. That was fine, too. Daryl was out, he could be with his family again. He could do good, be good out there. Somehow, he and Rick would take Negan down, she had no doubt about that. Hopefully she would live to see it, she thought, as she saw the rage in Negan’s eyes directed at her.
He opened his mouth to speak, but it wasn’t his voice that escaped his mouth, it was a boom. A gunshot. No, it didn’t come from his mouth, it had come from somewhere behind him. Was someone shooting? Time seemed to slow. She felt a pang in her thigh, she looked down. There was blood, dark and thick, insidiously oozing from a hole in her pants, where the sting came from. Her legs gave out in that moment, and she was on the ground. She could no longer hear anything around her, could only feel the pain. She was on fire. She gripped at her thigh, a wounded animal panicking. She needed to calm down, get help, breathe. When was the last time she took a breath? She willed herself to suck in air, her head clearing some with the effort. She winced as she forced herself into a sitting position and took another breath. Apply pressure, she told herself, stop the bleeding until someone gets the doctor. She pressed, screaming at the added pain, her vision fading at the edges. She breathed again and kept pressing. Why was no one coming to help? Her ears cleared, and she knew without looking that no one would be. She raised her head to see blurs of legs as people ran past her, she heard men yelling, some screaming in pain, more gunshots. There were others here, now. Their faces were covered with what looked like ski masks.
She needed to get somewhere safe or get to some weapons. She tried to stand, stumbled back down, vision almost completely black from the effort. She tried again. Successfully on her feet now, she raised upright to evaluate the best direction to go. She saw it happen from her peripheral, but not in time to stop the metal cylinder from connecting with her skull. She barely had time to register the pain erupt from her temple before she was unconscious.   
She felt the pain before she knew she was awake. She’d never felt anything like it, she could barely breathe she hurt so badly. She couldn’t decide what parts of her hurt worse – her left thigh was still screaming with pain. Her head throbbed, a sharp pain radiating from her right cheek. She could taste blood, and guessed at her stuffy nose that she must have fallen on her face. The pain on her back was new – it stung, as cool air whispered against raw skin. She must have been dragged, she realized. Dragged where?
She opened her eyes. Well, she tried. Only her left eye would open, the swelling from her right cheek forcing that eye closed. Her head still drooping, she was looking at her lap. Her left pant leg was soaked in her own blood. She slowly lifted her hand to survey her head wound, but it wouldn’t move. She noticed then the ropes tying her hands behind her, uncomfortable as her elbows awkwardly tried to bend around the chairback behind her. She saw similar ropes restraining her feet to the legs of the chair she sat in. Do not panic, she told herself, assess.
As slowly as possible, to avoid blacking out, she raised her head. She saw a dark room lit by several camping lanterns placed on the floor. Concrete walls with no windows, some large iron equipment and pipes, possibly a boiler room? She and the lamps were the only occupants. She carefully turned her head, searching for a door. She heard one open behind her, and light flooded the floor in front of her, shadowed by her own hunched figure. “She’s awake,” a man’s voice said.
Two sets of footsteps approached behind her. Another voice said, “We know you’re in some considerable pain…” she didn’t respond. “We’d like to help you, if you want that.”
He waited for her to answer. She didn’t.
“We wouldn’t ask for much in return,” the first voice added, “just some information.”
“You gonna make me talk to the wall or come around and face me like men?” she growled, the effort of speaking sending the pain in her cheek rioting through her head.
One of them chuckled. “I would bet money that spirit is what attracted Negan to you,” he said as he moved in front of her and crouched to meet her eyes. He surveyed her face and whistled, “it might have been your face too, before this.” He touched her cheek on the last word, and she flinched away from him at the fire hot pain it sent through her.
“Shooo, I bet that does hurt.” He cooed at her. She glared as best she could with one open eye.
“We have some medicine, a doctor here, that could at least make that hurt less,” he said, “all we need to know is how many people Negan has working for him, and where they are stationed.”
“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” she said nonchalantly. She couldn’t think clearly from the pain, but she knew she didn’t want to give these assholes anything they wanted. “I think I’m good.”
The man in her face smiled, the smile not unlike one she’d seen on Negan’s face plenty of times, before making a point. “Well, I guess we need to change that,” he said viciously, before his right hand made forceful contact with her left jaw, sending her head flying right, only to see the back hand of the other guy flying toward her wounded cheek. She went unconscious again.
When she woke the next time, she heard thumping. Unrhythmic, sporadic, and it was coming from several different directions. She heard her two new friends talking in low, panicked voices behind her. “I thought we’d have more time!” one of them said, “how did they find us after only two days?” “I don’t know, but we gotta do something.” “What? They have us surrounded, and they’ve already killed most of our people!” The pause in their conversation gave her mind a chance to catch up, to realize what she was heard was gunshots.
“Did you really think,” her words were slow, the effort of talking through her newly bruised jaw slowing her down, “you could hit him at home, and he wouldn’t retaliate?” The guys moved from the door to stand in front of her while she talked. “You didn’t even know how many people he had, and you thought you could beat him?” she forced a laugh through the excruciating pain.
“You think this is funny, bitch?” one of them responded. “Well I’ll show you what I think is funny,” he said, lifting his metal pipe, the one she assumed gave her the busted face, like a baseball bat.
“I would not do that if I were you,” a familiar villainous voice growled from the door behind her, and her heart fluttered. Negan was here. For her. She was surprised at the relief she felt. “Not that holding back now will save you.”
Two Saviors appeared from behind her, holding guns. Her captors raised their hands, and the Saviors forced them to their knees. She felt her wrist restraints cut and fall, and rubbed her arms as she watched Negan cut her foot restraints. He placed her arm around his shoulder and helped her to stand on her good foot. With most of her weight leaning on him, he helped her to limp toward the door. She stopped him before they exited and turned back toward the room.
“If I can’t be the one to do it, I need to see it,” she told him. He nodded in understanding, and then toward the Saviors. She didn’t flinch at all at the gunshots, or as their lifeless bodies hit the floor.
Negan picked her up, then, carrying her from the room. He rushed down passages, and out through double doors. Blinking her good eye against the blinding sun, she heard continued shooting, and saw bodies, both Saviors and not, on the ground as Negan ran with her toward a truck. He placed her in the passenger seat as easily as he could and made for the driver’s side. She heard him yell orders to whoever was near as he climbed in and started the truck, not hesitating before throwing it in reverse and speeding away from the battle.
------
The truck sputtered and steam flooded from the hood.
“Shit.” Negan grumbled as the truck came to a stop on its own. “It must have been shot before we got away.” He frantically searched the cab of the truck. “Of course there is no damn radio in here! Is everyone an idiot?”
He thought for a moment, and finally asked, “Can you walk at all?”
It was the first time he’d spoken to her since they’d fled, they had been driving for about thirty minutes. “I… um, I can try,” she replied.
She steeled herself. This was going to hurt, but she knew there was no alternative. With all the gunfire, they didn’t know how many walkers were on their way toward them, and who knew how long it would be until their guys started heading back. If there were any guys left to come back… she shook the thought from her head as Negan opened her door and helped her out of the truck.
Immediately she knew she couldn’t do this, but she refused to tell Negan that. Refused to let him see the severity of her pain. So she began trying to find a rhythm of step, lean into him, hop. Each hop sent a white-hot flare of pain through her whole body, but she kept going. She was grateful that he would stop often to let her catch her breath, using the time to also wiggle her jaw, which was getting stiff and even more sore from clenching her teeth.
She guessed they’d been slowly hobbling down the road for about two hours when they saw an old barn ahead, a short distance from the road, in a field. He jerked his chin in the barn’s direction and said, “we need to stop here for the night.” It was nearly dusk already, and she knew if they kept going, they would risk tripping in the dark. The thought of that pain alone made her flinch.
Inside the barn, Negan gathered a mound of hay and gently set her down on it. After securing the doors behind them, he sat down across from her, resting his head against the wall behind him and closing his eyes. She watched as he seemed to be calming himself down, if she didn’t know better, she would have thought he was meditating.
“Who were those guys?” she asked, finally breaking the tense silence.
“One of the communities we own,” he said without opening his eyes, “we caught one of them at the Sanctuary when they took you. Took the bastard a whole day to break and tell us where they’d taken you. It took us half the next day to get there.” He finally lifted his head and surveyed her, lingering on her wounds. “It’s gonna be a long walk back…”
She nodded, fighting back the stinging tears at the thought of the long journey ahead of her tomorrow.
He moved to her, gingerly touching her wounded face and looking more closely at the wounds in the fading rays of light barn walls were allowing in. He met her eyes, still lightly holding her face in his hands. It hurt, but she didn’t mind.  
“I saw you go down,” he said slowly, “from the first shot. But I didn’t see where they’d hit you. By the time I got to where you fell, you were gone. I thought you were dead, until Simon said he saw them load you up and take off.” His eyes shone with pain.
“I didn’t know if anyone would come for me,” she said softly. She hadn’t admitted it to herself in that boiler room, but she had not been hopeful of making it back out of there. “When I heard you…” her voice broke as her tears finally flooded. He gently pulled her into his chest and wrapped her in his arms as she wept. When she stopped, she said into his shirt, “we really gotta stop hanging out like this.” They both chuckled as they separated.
It was dark now, and the temperature was dropping. Negan made a dugout in the hay and helped her to lay down in it. Once she was settled, he settled in behind her, pulling her close for warmth. They laid that way for a long time, listening to each other breathe, when she eventually broke the silence.
“I believe I still have two free questions,” she said in lighthearted tone.
“You definitely used two already,” he quipped back.
“Yes, but you only answered one of them,” she said, lightly pressing him with her elbow. “So, I get the second one back.”
“I’ll allow it,” he said, pulling her a little closer and nestling her head under his chin.
She laid there a few more minutes before asking, “you showing up there today, was that… well, was that to find me? Or for retaliation for attacking you?”
He didn’t answer for long enough that she wondered if he’d fallen asleep. “It wasn’t about retaliation,” he said finally. “As for your other question… Lucille was my wife, before. And during. She died, because of me… because of my inaction. I wasn’t going to let inaction be the cause of your death, too.” Something in her ached at his response, some twinge beginning of understanding how he’d become the Negan she knew.
The cold crept deeper into her. She shivered, despite the warmth Negan wrapped around her.
As she succumbed to a pressing urge to sleep, she thought she heard Negan say, “you are burning up.”
------
When she woke up, she was in Negan’s bed in the Sanctuary. An IV in her arm snaked to two pouches of liquids hung from a metal pole beside the head of the bed. She couldn’t remember getting here. In fact, she couldn’t remember much at all following the night in the barn. There were brief flashes of trees rushing past while Negan carried her, the doctor holding her non-wounded eye open and flashing a light into her eye, and the occasional voice talking to her, or someone beside her. It was an unnerving feeling, remembering nothing between one place and the next, but somehow knowing that time had passed.
She realized suddenly how dry her mouth was, and how thirsty she felt. She looked around the room to find a glass of water on the nightstand beside her. Beside the nightstand, in the leather armchair that used to be in the sitting area, Negan slept. He couldn’t have been comfortable, she thought, with his neck at that angle against the back of the chair. He looked a little haggard. Dark circles under his eyes, his scruff longer than he usually kept it, his hair unwashed and a little unkempt. He stirred as she reached for the water glass, just slightly too far away, and sat up when he realized she was awake. He stood, handed the glass to her, and walked out of the room. A moment later, he returned with the doctor.
As he assessed her, she asked questions to fill in the gaps. Her bullet wound was a good one – all the way through, no major arteries nicked, it didn’t hit bone. It would take some time and some effort, but the muscle it pierced would heal and she’d be able to walk again. It had become infected while she was tied up, and the infection had gone deep. Her fever had gotten dangerously high, which explained her sleeping through the last four days. Her cheekbone was likely fractured, though he expected it to heal well, too. Her nose had been reset, and her jaw and cheek bruises were already turning shades of greens and yellows. The swelling had receded enough that she could open her right eye enough to see out of. She turned down the offer to see herself in a mirror. Negan listened intently, not saying anything and not meeting her eyes.
The doctor left her with orders to drink as much water as she could, eat as much as she could, and sleep as much as she could. Once the infection cleared and the gunshot wound had closed, she could start working on walking again.
She looked at Negan, who was staring at the door the doctor had shut behind him.
“I vaguely remember you carrying me through the woods… you must have nearly killed yourself carrying me that far. I can’t thank you enough,” she said, meaning every word. He did not turn his head.
“I can ask the doctor to help me move to my room, so you can have your bed back.”
“No,” was all he said, before leaving her alone.
She told herself not to stress about whatever that was. If it was about her, he’d eventually have it out with her, and if it wasn’t then it would go away. But sitting there, in his bed, with nothing to do but think, stressing about it is what she did. She went over every possible reason he would be pissed at her, when she was literally unconscious for four days. After an hour or so of spiraling, the door opened, and she was surprised to see Tanya enter with a tray of food. Tanya set the tray up on the bed and made her way to sit in the chair near the bedside.
“Um,” she said to Tanya, with a raised eyebrow, “thank you?”
Tanya seemed to know she wasn’t asking about the food and explained. “Negan sent me to sit with you for a while. If you need anything I can get it for you. Or I guess if you want to talk, that’s what I��m here for, too.” Then she added, quietly, “which will be a nice change of pace.”
“Wait,” she asked Tanya, pulling the tray of food closer, “what does that mean?”
“Oh,” Tanya pushed a breath out of her nose in a sort-of laugh, “you’ve just been asleep every time I’ve been in here before.”
“You... you came to see me?” she was surprised. She and Tanya weren’t exactly friends. With Sherry gone, she wasn’t sure she had any friends here anymore.
“Well… Negan didn’t want you to be alone. He sat with you almost all of the time, but if he had to leave for whatever reason, he sent one of us to be with you. Said we had to stay awake in case you woke up.”
“I guess that explains why he looked so rough,” she commented.
Tanya replied, “yeah, I don’t think he’s had much sleep since he carried you in.”
She contemplated all of this while she ate the food Tanya had brought her. It didn’t take her long, she found with the first bite that she was famished.
When she finished her meal, she asked Tanya to fill her in on what she’d missed. She put on her best surprised face when Tanya told her Daryl had escaped. As Tanya informed her that when Negan was gathering the troops to come after her and her captors, they’d discovered Dwight missing, and the wives had not seen Sherry for a while either. They assumed both had run away together. Then two days ago, Negan suddenly remembered Daryl was locked up and with Dwight gone, no one was making sure he was fed, but they opened the cell to find Dwight in there, half-starved and feral. He said Sherry had drugged his food, and he woke up in Daryl’s cell.
“Sherry and Daryl ran away together?” she asked Tanya, dumbfounded.
Tanya couldn’t believe it either, “Negan was furious. He sent Simon and a group to Alexandria to find Daryl, but they haven’t been able to find him.”
She didn’t let Tanya see the relief she felt. This had worked out surprisingly well for her. She had planned to deal with Dwight later, though she hadn’t quite decided how at the time she’d locked him up. And Daryl had listened to her and didn’t go find Rick, that, too, was a relief.
After a few more minutes of chitchat, and Tanya getting a couple of books for her to read while she was bedbound, she told Tanya she was feeling very tired. According to Tanya, Negan wanted Tanya in there anyway, so she got a book for herself, and moved to Negan’s couch.
Sleep quickly consumed her, and she woke hours later to find Negan gently shaking the foot of her good leg to rouse her.
“Dinner,” he grunted, motioning to the tray on the bed.  He helped her into a sitting position before seating himself in the chair beside the bed.
“You don’t want to eat, too?” she asked him. 
“No,” he bluntly replied. Still in a mood.
She ate in silence for a few minutes. She was trying to decide how to proceed in conversation when he beat her to it.
“Free question,” he declared. “And don’t lie this time.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “When did I lie to you?” she asked him, not looking away from her stew as she took a spoonful.
“When I asked you before why you were really here. You lied. I want the truth this time.”
Her food turned leaden in her stomach, and she suddenly had no appetite.
“You came here to get Daryl out, didn’t you?”
She looked up at him, held his hard stare.
“Yes.”
“And you succeeded, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“I knew the moment we couldn’t find Dwight and Sherry was gone, too, there was more to it than them running away. They’d already tried that and failed miserably; Dwight is too spineless to try a second time. And that douchebag in Alexandria, Spencer, he’d let it slip that you and Daryl had a little thing going before you met me… so, I checked Daryl’s cell,” he confessed, “and who did I find, sleeping like a baby, not a scratch on him?”
“Negan,” she started, but he cut her off.
“Here’s the other thing, you didn’t just drug Dwight and get Daryl out… you tried to drug me, too. Didn’t you?”
She didn’t respond.
“I took one sip of that whiskey and could tell something was off about it. But I wanted to see what you were doing.”
She swallowed down the bile rising in her throat. She couldn’t run, she knew screaming would be useless. All she had on this tray was a spoon and some hot stew… she could throw it in his face, but that would only piss him off… she had no option but to take whatever punishment he had in store for her.
“Are you going to burn my face?” she asked him, no fear in her voice.
He stared at her for a long time before responding.
“No,” he said, defeat laced his tone. “No. You covered your tracks well. Dwight believes Sherry drugged him, and everyone else believes it, too.”
She loosed a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She wanted to thank him, but she didn’t think he’d receive it well.
They sat in silence for the rest of the evening, Negan removing her tray when she didn’t touch it for a while. He retreated to the bathroom, and she heard the shower turn on. She settled in, feeling tired again, and closed her eyes. Sleep didn’t come, but she kept her eyes closed, as Negan completed his shower and came back into the room. She heard him click lamps off, his footsteps moving around the room. She felt the bed dip as he climbed in beside her.
He'd found her out, revealed her plans, she had confessed it all, and now he was going to sleep beside her. She turned to her side to find his bare back facing her.
She knew she shouldn’t press her luck, but now curiosity was getting the best of her.
“If you knew when those guys took me… why did you come for me? Why lose all those guys to get me back?”
She watched his back decompress as she sighed, and then as he turned to his side to face her.
“How is the answer to that not obvious by now?”
She searched his eyes and watched as they moved to her mouth and then back to her eyes. He moved in close, their lips nearly touching. Then he kissed her. This kiss was not like the last time he kissed her. This was gentle, passionate, soft but powerful. She kissed him back.
When he pulled away from the kiss several minutes later, her silently cursing her wounds and the IV preventing them from going further, Negan said softly to her, “you will have to decide one of these days. You can try to survive with Daryl, or you can thrive here with me. You can’t be in my bed and his, too.” With that, he turned over and went to sleep.
70 notes · View notes
xxsycamore · 2 years
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Hello! I have never participated in kinktober before but I have written something and was wondering how it works? I have actually never posted anything I've written before. Do I send it to you first to be approved? Do I wait and post it in October on the day? Do you reblog it once it's tagged? (Again sorry totally new to this) Thank you! Love your works!
Hello and thank you for reaching out, I'm always glad to be of help! :) Don't apologize for anything, I totally get why challenges like this one might be a bit of a headache to figure out as a novice, as there are quite a few unwritten rules surrounding them. I'll try to explain in simple terms but you're always welcome to ask additional questions in case something is still unclear! ❤
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-> Participating in most content creation challenges of this kind (at least on this side of tumblr, can't talk much beyond mobile otome tumblr) is actually quite subjective. For you to be considered participating in such challenge, it is often enough in your post to be mentioned something among the lines of, this work is part of x challenge.
-> Of course, this is mostly related to challenges where you're provided themes to create for, like prompt lists. I won't go into detail about what other kinds exist, but for instance, a fandom gift exchange event requires you to sign up via filling a special form regarding the details around creating a gift and receiving a gift. But to answer your question, and especially for my Visions of Temptation challenge: Do I send it to you first to be approved? - No, you don't have to do that! In order to participate, as a writer such as yourself, you simply write a fic, post it mentioning that it's written for said challenge, tag this blog, and voilà!
you might know this already, but also: by putting in the hashtags the fandom and characters of your work, you will make it easily findable for others browsing these hastags. Additionally, my challenge uses the special hashtag #visions of temptation 2022, so make sure to include that as well! :) That way we can all easily browse through the challenge creations!
Do I wait and post it in October on the day? - Preferably, yes. Following the list according to the dates is practically what makes this a challenge, so many of us will try to do that. But hey, there are no hard rules here. You won't get judged or disqualified or anything like that for not following the supposed posting dates. In fact, many entries are posted waaay later than the period of the challenge! I'm a good example, as I still have four fics to finish from last year's... 👉🏻👈🏻(and here i need to add, you don't have to be like me and try to complete all 31 days if it's more than what you can bear! Make sure not to overwhelm yourself <3 even just one work is enough too!) In the same way, creations posted earlier than the challenge dates are welcomed too! :)
Do you reblog it once it's tagged? - I do that, but not as a rule. I only do it out of my personal desire to support and appreciate participants, and I do it from my main blog @kissmetwicekissmedeadly , under #vot 22 reblogs (and usually, days and weeks after the works are posted... I'm often very busy :( ) . I leave a little comment on stuff that I like sometimes, but sometimes I'm too tired to say anything, and I can't promise that I'm gonna reblog everything too.
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I hope that helps! Once again, feel free to ask about whatever else you're unfamiliar with, especially considering that you haven't posted anything before. My DMs are open too, in case you feel more comfortable with that. I'd be glad to help you out in your fic-posting journey! <3 Thank you for enjoying my works, I'm thrilled to hear that and I hope that you can continue to do so in the future ❤ Have a nice day!
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numbugwritingblog · 1 year
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Welcome To The New Realm! (Chapter 2)
Previous Chapter
Index
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04/05/2018
“And that’s what happened…”
Cal was sitting down and drinking tea in a small house that Jett, her current saviour, owned. Everything was organised in an unusually neat and tidy order, with many of the rooms not even having any functional lights, but none of that really mattered to Cal. The death of her husband was still fresh on her mind from sharing the night’s events, and the pain of losing him still leaking out through her tears.
… And the terror that she couldn’t even refer to her own name in her thoughts.
Jett was on the chair next to Cal’s, not looking at her or, well, anything in particular, but still paying full attention. “That’s pretty horrid,” he said softly, mainly to try and express his empathy and sympathy. “Cal, I promise I’ll help you however I’m able to, and the first thing I can do is to answer any questions you have.”
“I’ve-... I've got so many questions, I don’t even know where to begin.”
Jett gave a nod. “It’s alright, we’ve got the time to think.”
“Well, where am I?”
Jett gave a nod. “Right, a good question to ask first. You’re in an alternate realm that the people here call the New Realm, specifically in the city of Crystalline Caverns. It used to be a mining city known for its arcane crystals, our money, but now it’s for tourists hearing about its history.” Jett then held up a crystal to show it to Cal. “And before you ask, the only way we know of to go back to your home, or the Old Realm, is to teleport there.”
“That’s my second question,” Cal retorted before another sip of the tea, followed by taking a deep breath in.
Then she was abruptly yelling, her swinging arm spilling tea. “Teleporting, seeing the future, changing my own fucking name on me, what the hell is all of this?!”
Jett paused for a little bit, putting his hand on his chin as he formulated a suitable answer. “Well… The Old Realm would call it instantaneous energy transfer to manipulate the laws of physics. The New Realm just calls it magic and casting spells. It’s all possible thanks to arcane energy, a type of energy unique to here which can be used to turn energy from one type to another.”
“Can you fix my brain, get rid of what Valentine did to me?” As she asked this question, Cal began holding her cup tightly.
“Not necessarily,” Jett said with a shake of his head. “But spending enough time in the Old Realm should make these effects end on their own, once the spells have burnt through the arcane energy that would have built up in your body.”
“I can’t-”
“Go around calling yourself Calamity? I figured, I’m going to visit the archmages in the capital Golden Sun, see about  them removing the spells from you.”
Cal nodded, taking a sip of her tea- finishing the last of it with that sip. Her grip on the cup was tight as she stared Jett right in the eyes. “... Is… Is there anything that can help my husband?” She hoped. She pleaded. She prayed. All in the matter of a few moments she filled her mind with the possibility that this strange new world could help.
But it was Jett’s silence that sunk her away from that, tears starting to stream down her face once more. “I’m sorry…”
Cal gave a slow nod, wiping away the tears from her fur. “N-no, I understand. I… Dear god…”
Jett didn’t say anything, leaning closer and - very gently - putting his hand on Cal’s shoulder, letting her cry for as long as she needed to.
Cry Cal did, tears flowing out through her eyes freely, rolling down her cheeks before dropping onto the floor, not even taking notice of one or two landing in her tea cup.
By the time Cal had gathered up the will to speak, her eyes were soaked with tears - slowly turning to Jett.
“Valentine…” her throat was croaky, pushing through just to speak at all. “And that… reaper… Who are they?”
“Witches.” Jett explained. “Our classification for any criminals that have armed themselves with magic. The “reaper”, Scythe, is wanted with a reward of 13,000 crystals for her capture. I’ve been spending the last few days tracking her down, and I managed to trail her to the Old Realm. But Valentine…” He immediately grimaced, teeth bared at the mere thought of her. “I thought she was dead.”
Cal didn’t notice the scowl on Jett’s face, nor did she notice him hiding it away afterwards. Her mind was caught on one other factor.
“Will I have to worry about them going after me?”
Jett paused, shaking his hand a little. “Well… maybe? They were already kidnapping civilians for experimentation, so they’re likely to keep doing that, or they might be satisfied with a successful variation of the future vision and apply it to themselves. But they could want to get you again. Just to be on the safe side, I’ll advocate that you get some security while we look into removing-”
-CRASH!-
The sudden crash through a window gave Cal a fright - and so did Jett abruptly grabbing her and swinging her out of the way, the fallen tea already forgotten. The crash was caused by a wild animal of some sort, one looked like an eagle, except without any eyes (not even any eye sockets, it was just blank), and its wings were small, far too small to keep itself afloat. And yet it seemed to just hover in the air, striking its beak forward at the two of them - something Jett had responded to by jumping back with Cal before safely letting her back on the ground.
“Get back!” Jett yelled out, kicking the table out in front of the eagle with one leg, while he took out his gun - looking like it was aiming at the eagle on its own, Jett’s arm merely to hold and fire it.
The animal grabbed the table with both talons and rather effortlessly tore it to shreds, before lunging at Jett.
BANG BANG BANG!
The gunshots failed to penetrate its skin, but they did work in knocking it back and giving Jett time to back away. Despite having to move around furniture and not looking at the eagle, his gun was perfectly on point, each and every individual bullet hitting the target despite the recoil.
“What the hell is that?!” Cal yelled out.
BANG BANG BANG!
Jett fired out another volley of shots. But as it charged at him again, he hissed and grabbed Cal, leaping across to the other end of the room as it crashed into the wall. Then he turned back and fired more shots to keep it at bay. “Just run, it’s picked its prey!”
Cal obliged and ran down along the hallway to the other end, while Jett blocked the doorway. The wingless eagle ignored the next volley of shots as it charged forward, one talon slashing across his chest with a pained yell, while another talon grabbed him by the shoulder and chucked him down, his sunglasses tossed off his face and landing on the ground. But instead of striking him again, it flew forwards, charging directly at Cal.
Screaming, she swung the door shut behind herself, barely stalling the thing as it tore into the doorframe and ripped into it without a second’s thought.
Jett got back to his feet, hissing out in pain. After a momentary pause, he shuffled to the left and felt around for something.
The eagle had bore a hole large enough for it to fit through, and began charging at Cal - only to fall short a millimetre away from her face. Jett had grabbed one of its legs with one arm, pulling back against it with all of his strength. It screeched out, turning around to swipe at Jett with its spare talon, only for him to let go and roll underneath it, a long blade in hand with a glowing end.
The hawk was about to charge at Cal once more, only for Jett to lift the sword up, jabbing it directly at the hawk, not even flinching as it struggled in pain against the tip of the sword - the rest of it hanging free. He let go of it, the hawk squirming and then slowly backing away, quickly knocking the sword out of the wound it created.
“Time to go!”
He grabbed Cal around the waist, groaning out in pain at the sharp pain from the bleeding wounds across his chest, before flicking his arm up - the two of them now standing inside of a small room, one that looked like it was for storage.
Cal blinked, whipping her head back to see that the eagle was gone. They just teleported again. Her breathing slowly died down.
They were safe?
She dropped down to the ground as her adrenaline died down.
“There’s no English name for them.” Jett’s voice was strained, the lurker breathing slow, steady breaths between sentences.
“But it’s a nasty creature that traded sight for the ability to sense a target, able to tell where they are in the world. From there, it will only give up and pick a new target if it believes that it’s in too much dang- ergh…!”
He winced again, falling against the wall with a thud, before letting himself slowly slide down. “F-find a snow leopard woman by the name of Grace, tell her I’m in her storage room, and that it’s urgent.”
Cal slowly nodded, backing up and opening the door to see what looked to be a lab. Rows and rows of bottled drinks lined the shelves, each with labels for various things such as “strength”, “speed”, “crab arm”, and “echolocation”.
As confused as Cal was, she didn’t spend much time looking, backing out of the hall and walking through the hall she found herself in at a rather brisk pace. Upon finding a group of kids, Cal rushed up to them and asked about Grace - paying no heed to how strange it would’ve been. To her surprise they not only knew of Grace, but could point Cal straight to her. It probably helped that Cal was clearly panicked, struggling to keep herself calm through this ordeal.
It was only half a minute before she found the snow leopard woman, her smooth fur lining along her rather curvy figure. Her long dress was flowing perfectly fitted to her figure and even showed off a small amount of leg. Between that, the high heels, and the finely brushed hair, it was clear to anyone else that she was proud of her appearance, even as she was focused on speaking with a burly wolf right next to her, giggling at whatever he had said moments prior.
Cal didn’t even notice her appearance, approaching without pause.
She wasn’t alone, the wolf right next to her in the middle of talking. “And then I said “That’s not a bonus, that’s a punishment in disguise!”
Grace let out some laughter in response, though at a glance it would be difficult to tell if it was genuine or not. “So hilarious, you always know what to say handsome~” Her laughter died down as she noticed the dishevelled lynx burst into the room.
“Grace,” Cal mumbled out.
The wolf rolled his eyes, not even looking at Cal. “Leave our fine maiden alone, we’re discussing important business-”
“Jett’s in your storage room, it’s urgent.”
The wolf huffed at being interrupted. “Surely it can- Grace?”
Without even taking another glance at the wolf, Grace made her way out with Cal, closing the door behind herself.
“Wha- hey!”
Grace then pulled out a small wand, holding it up above her head and twirling it around both herself and Cal. Like that they were teleported into the storage room, as Grace looked around, quickly finding where Jett was holed up in.
“Jett,” she huffed. “How many times do I need to tell you that you need to see me before running out of healing potions?” She then backed up, perusing the shelves. “Invisibility”, “Pheromones”, “Reduce Gravity”, ah here it is! “Reverse Injuries”. She uncorked it and then moved up to Jett. She gently put a hand on his back, pouring the liquid into his mouth.
Jett hacked and coughed at being force fed the concoction, but the effects were immediate, the wounds rewinding, as if that eagle was pulling back and undoing its attack to begin with. The wounds were gone after just a few seconds. “Mhm, thanks, beauty,” he said, letting out a deep sigh as he put a hand to his chest, the tears in his shirt the only remaining signs of the attack.
“No need to mention it, handsome~” Grace helped him up to his feet, brushing some dirt off his back.
Cal watched the event, before glancing up to see that Jett’s eyes were faded - not only that, but they weren’t focused on anything at all, staring straight ahead. “Wait… you’re blind?”
Jett’s grin immediately faded, before he cleared his throat and turned in the general direction of Cal. “Yes. I don’t like talking about it.”
“Oh, uhm, sorry,” Cal said softly, backing up.
“So Jett,” Grace said with a smirk on her face. “Want to tell me about your new girl-”
“Stop.” There was no hesitation in cutting her off. “Widow.”
Grace looked over to Cal, seeing her limp posture and tear-stained fur around her eyes, and it was all Grace needed to understand. “Oh, that’s… I’m so sorry to hear. Is there anything I do, miss…?”
Cal gulped, feeling herself get tense. She knew what Grace was hinting towards. “I can’t. They- they took it, forced me to answer to a different name…!”
Grace nodded. “Ah. So let me guess, Mr. Heroic swept in and saved ya, and now you’re going to see if one of the presidents is going to help you out.”
“Presidents…?” Cal asked in a slow tone.
“Whatever they call ‘em in the New Realm,” Grace admitted. “I only go there to practise my potions.”
Potions. Cal looked around at the rows of drinks, staring at the collection. Gills, Enhance Beauty, Gender Change, Nightvision. So that’s why… “These… These are all different potions?”
Grace nodded with an evidently proud hum. “Made over a hundred different types of potions, dear. And I’ve got my private collection on display to trusted guests.”
“Thank you so much Grace,” Jett said softly as he grabbed three spare bottles of “Reverse Injuries”, and one bottle of “Auto-Translate” from the collection before tucking the first three away. “But we need to see about getting her spells removed.” He then followed this up with getting an extra pair of sunglasses, putting them on his face and hiding his dulled out eyes. “I’ll be back to tell you how it went.”
“Okay, tell me all about it when you get back, handsome~”
Jett passed the auto-translate potion to Cal. “Drink up, it’ll automatically translate anything you see or hear for you, it includes 23 New Realm languages and English.”
Grace waved out goodbye as the two of them teleported once more. She then let out a small sigh, putting the empty bottle down to the side.
---
The moment they had arrived Jett was very insistent on getting Cal examined, and to her surprise it was done within an hour. Still, Jett seemed oddly impatient about the whole thing as they had to wait.
But here she was, sitting down on a table while someone was walking in, their robes defying gravity and constantly billowing behind them. “Hello, you came here with Jett Harker, correct?”
Cal gave a slow nod.
“Alright then. Can you please attempt to say your full name?” As they spoke, they raised up a hand, a soft wind blowing through from seemingly nowhere.
Cal tensed up a little as she looked over to who she could only assume was a doctor. “I-”
“I know, we just need an attempt for diagnostic purposes.”
Cal gave a nod, taking a deep breath in. “My name is… Calamity… Grrrrrgh… ahhh!” she yelled out in frustration, her first name coming out as… that, and unable to even bring out her surname.
“Thank you, Sally Vagilattea,” the doctor said with a nod, putting their hands together at the index finger and thumb. Then they slowly pulled both hands apart, a thin blue light forming. The light then solidified into a glowing crystal, which the doctor put down on the nearby desk before turning back to Cal. “Next, can you try calling yourself Calamity?”
Cal gave a slow nod, letting out a sigh. “Okay… My name is Calamity.”
The doctor gave a small grimace. “Okay, so it’s not a basic curse… Alright, this might take a minute, but I’m going to try bringing in someone who’s name is also Sally. Alright?”
Cal blinked. “Uh… sure, but why?”
“To continue examining the type of curse before we go about dismantling it.” They backed up into the room with a black pane of glass, and indeed she was left to her own thoughts for the time being. How could she go back home like this?
… How could she go back without John…
Finally the doctor came in with a woman to their side. “Alright, this is Sally. Say hello to her, and use her name please.”
Cal blinked, slowly lifting her head. “Uh… hi, Sally-” she let out a gasp. That- that was her name, but-
“Hello, Sally.”
“Oh, I prefer to be called Cal… uh, uhm… The one syllable of-”
“I understand,” the other Sally said softly. “Sorry, Sal.”
“... This curse was competently made. Thank you for your time.” The doctor motioned the other Sally away, who gave a thumbs up before teleporting out.
“You’re going to go to sleep,” the doctor said softly. “And hopefully when you wake up you’ll be able to say your name again.”
Cal nodded. “Please.”
The doctor gently put a hand to Cal’s forehead. “That’s right, lots of melatonin…”
Cal felt herself growing drowsier and drowsier, her eyelids refusing to stay open… She’s… never felt this…
… tired…
… What…?
Oh, right… It was the doctor… Did they fix her? Can she call herself Cal again?
Oh…
“I’m sorry,” the doctor said softly. “This curse was built to last, you’ll need a dedicated team working on your mind to detangle this. Or we could force you to stay in the Old Realm, and let the arcane energy out over time. But that would require staying in the Old Realm, and who’d really want to do that?” They let out a small chuckle at the apparent joke? What was funny?
“I can’t go back with my name like this,” Cal insisted, eyes widened. “I can’t just go around to my family and say “hey my name’s Calamity for a bit”! I just can’t!”
The doctor was silent at first, raising an eyebrow. “... Wait, you actually live there?”
Cal slowly nodded.
“... I know Mr. Harker is the top ranking witch hunter, but the Old Realm? Seriously, who would he expect to find there?”
“Wait, what?”
The doctor raised a brow. “Oh, right. An Old Realmer wouldn’t know about magic.”
Cal gave a slow, hesitant nod. “... Is Jett here? Can I speak with him?”
The doctor gave a nod. “I’ll call him in.”
The doctor grabbed the glowing bar and pocketed it away, and then left out through the front door, and in a few minutes Jett came walking in.
“C- Sal?” he asked out softly, letting out a very faint clicking noise as he made his way closer.
“It didn’t work,” Cal said softly, feeling tears starting to well up in her eyes. “And I can’t just go back home like this.”
Jett let out a soft hum, sitting down right next to Cal. “Well… Hm… If they couldn’t fix it up, then you’d have to visit the Old Realm to get it to go through. Plus even if you don’t go back you could at least ring your friends and family to explain what’s going on.”
“Do you think they’ll really believe that mages killed my husband and took me to a magic world?”
“I think teleportation would be pretty convincing.”
“... That’s true…”
Jett put a hand to his chin as he thought to himself. “Let’s see… where you can stay… I can see if Grace would be willing, she’d be able to defend you with her potions.”
“Aren’t you going to?”
“Can’t, I’ve been tracking Scythe down for days, and with Valentine at her side I’m going to have to act fast before they can do anything else.”
“... Jett?” Cal asked softly.
“Yes?”
“What did she mean when she called you a witch hunter?”
Weirdly, Jett responded by saying witch hunter to himself twice, before giving a slow nod. “Ah, yes, that makes sense. So witch has a very different connotation in English. Here it’s just what we call powerful mages with an active criminal record. You need someone with specialised abilities to even track down a witch, hence witch hunter.”
“So you’ve been tracking down Valentine for that reason?”
Jett shook his head. “Valentine was listed as dead for 10 years. To think she’s spent all this time scot free, able to do whatever she wanted… I can’t let her get away, not again…”
“Again?”
Jett stood up, not even acknowledging the question. “I’m going to bring you over to Grace, and then I’m going to continue tracking them.”
Cal slowly nodded, standing up as well. “You know where they’re going next?”
“You said they’re after the Final Spell, so if I follow that I’ll be able to follow them.” Jett then gently grabbed Cal, waving an arm to cast his teleport spell, the both of them back at Grace’s potion storage in an instant.
“I’ll be just a second,” Jett said as he backed out through the doors, leaving Cal alone. She wandered through the room, looking at more rows of potions. Then she opened the door just to take a proper look at the hallway. It looked surprisingly plain for what should be someone’s house, but there was a window outside. Looking over, she saw that there was an orphanage sitting right nearby. Huh.
As she was looking she soon saw Jett and Grace coming right back, quickly moving back into the potion room.
Grace opened the door for her friend. “So, just so we’re all clear, you want Sally to stay here for her safety, right near the orphanage, while you go track down the witches who put her in danger, on the off-chance that they go after her?”
“... Yes?” Jett asked aloud, tilting his head slightly.
Grace let out a sigh, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, but it’s just too close to the children, you know I can’t accept that in good faith.
Jett was silent for a moment, giving a slow nod. “... Right. Well, uh…” He stopped and put a hand to his chin, trying to think of a back-up place to take her, even just temporarily.
“Th-the name’s Cal- ergh…” Cal clenched her fists up. She took a deep breath in, closing her eyes. “... It’s not Calamity, it’s Cal. If that makes sense.”
Grace gave a small nod. “It makes sense, Sal.”
Thank god, that worked.
Finally, an idea came to Jett. “I can maybe scrounge up enough from my budget to get a proper bodyguard for Sal… Wait, no they’re going to demand extra for being forced to be in the Old Realm… Maybe a really cheap one…”
Grace let out a sigh, shaking her head. “Sal can stay one night. But no longer, we will need to think of somewhere for Sal to stay while the magic runs its course.”
“Thank you so much, Grace,” Jett said with a heavy sigh. “I owe you a ton for this.”
“I know, I know.” Grace let out a sigh. “And before you go, you haven’t told me what actually happened.”
Jett nodded. “Uh, right. Well, take a seat.”
Cal obliged, taking a seat in kind as Jett began telling his side. She knew most of what happened already, but anything was better than thinking about… John…
---
Next Chapter
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hajimesh · 3 years
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𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝙚𝙛𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩 — olympic team / fem reader
[ atsumu, sakusa, suna, kageyama, gao, bokuto, hinata, iwaizumi, oikawa ]
the stress of the first match seems to be taking a toll on the team's spirit, and you refuse to sit and watch them fail when you know you can be of help. but can you really handle all of them?
(or, where you end up having a gang bang with 8 professional volleyball players, and 1 athletic trainer)
⥅ word c. 7,928
⥅ warnings. sub reader, gang bang, foursomes, voyeurism?, fellatio, cum play, vaginal penetration, anal, unprotected sex, creampie, facial, size + stomach bulging kink, praise kink, mild degradation, double penetration, pussy job (for like, one second), double vaginal penetration, fingering, squirting, overstimulation, someone passes out, aftercare
⥅author n. brought to u thanks to this tweet + @kmorgzz​ who suggested adding iwaoi to the mix
special mention to my wife and love of my life, runa. @tsumue​ u had me laughing at 4am as i read ur comments in the google doc. i don't know what i'd do without u, tysm for beta and putting up with me for the past week ♡ 
ps. im v sorry if ur fave didn't make the cut (╥_╥) i added the ones im more familiar with, in terms of writing
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if someone had told you you’d be attending the olympic games not as a spectator but as part of japan’s team, you’d have never believed them. but here you are, sitting in the same room with the most skilled players in the country as none other than their personal assistant.
“iwaizumi-san! do you think kageyama and i could pull off a quick attack right at the beginning of the set?”
“shoyo-kun, if there’s someone you’ll be doing the quick attack with it’s me,” atsumu’s eyes land on kageyama, smirking at the other setter from across the room, “right, tobio-kun?”
“you’re a disgrace.”
sakusa’s statement earns an offended scoff from the blond setter, the rest of the team rolling their eyes and sighing at the all-too-familiar scene.
“oi! we don’t have time for petty fights!”
after iwaizumi gets everyone’s attention back on him, he barely finishes explaining tomorrow’s match opponents and their plays without losing the team’s attention. he might be there to train them and make sure they’re on top of their game, but he knows when the team is lacking morale and, sadly, today’s one of those days.
the meeting is over and all of you go to the dining hall, fetching your dinner and sitting on your respective table with you right next to iwaizumi.
since you took that part-time job at the msby jackals, you quickly caught onto their small tics and tell-tale signs when something isn’t right. atsumu becomes a complete asshole which makes sakusa lose his temper sooner than usual. meanwhile, bokuto and hinata become very fidgety, often causing a bit of chaos around them as clumsiness radiates off of them.
when the national team was announced, you were offered the job as the trainer’s assistant—all thanks to the jackals who recommended you to their superiors for said position. your pay-check might say you’re just iwaizumi’s assistant, but you’re basically there to cover the needs of the entire team—all of them.
“iwa-chan!”
your head snaps to the side as a good-looking man takes the last free seat next to iwaizumi.
“aren’t you supposed to be sitting with your team?” iwaizumi asks him, taking a bite of his food while waiting for an answer.
the unknown man huffs exaggeratedly, rolling his eyes as he too starts to eat, “thought you’d miss your best friend.”
“hanamaki isn’t here.”
the stranger opens his mouth to reply, clearly offended by iwizumi’s words, when he notices you peeping at him.
“oh? hi! i think we haven’t met,” he shoots you a charming smile, bringing out his remarkably handsome features, “oikawa tooru, it’s nice to meet you.”
you introduce yourself, bowing at him and focusing back on your food.
both friends start to discuss tomorrow’s events, which inevitably brings out iwaizumi’s concern for his players.
“they seem off,” he’s playing around with the food as he stares at the players sitting in the table in front of yours, “i don’t know if i should talk to them or let them be.”
he’s clearly concerned for them, you can see it in his eyes—the doubt, wondering if he has been doing a good job with the team.
“iwaizumi-san, i-i… perhaps i could aid them this time?”
his head snaps in your direction, a mix of surprise and worry taking over his face, “no way, that’d be too much for you.”
oikawa’s eyebrows scrunch up as he observes you two but says nothing, choosing to listen attentively at you trying to convince iwaizumi while the latter sighs and reminds you that it’s not just the jackals this time.
it takes a while for iwaizumi to accept your offer, pondering the pros and cons, but he ends up accepting it; for everyone’s sakes.
“i’m lost.”
oikawa’s words make your insides flare-up, looking down at your hands in order to avoid looking at him, his curious eyes switching between his best friend and you.
iwaizumi ignores him, standing up from his seat and walking to the table in front of you with you and oikawa watching closely. the team turns to look at him, waiting for him to speak since it’s obvious it has to be something important by the severe look on his face.
“seeing as some of you are clearly out of it, our assistant here has very kindly volunteered to help you guys for tonight.”
a few heads immediately perk up, looking at you with bright eyes once you answer their silent question with a smile.
“please, be good to her. i’ll be there supervising anyways, so don’t think of trying anything funny.”
“oikawa-san! you’re coming with us, right?” hinata looks expectantly at said male, excitement clear in the redhead’s eyes, “she’s the best!”
both iwaizumi and you freeze on the spot, gauging oikawa’s reaction who only looks more confused.
“you’re welcome to join us, if you so desire,” it’s you who’s offering it this time, surprising iwaizumi and earning a worried glance from him.
oikawa can’t deny he’s dying to know what everyone’s so excited about, and after thinking about it for a few more seconds, he has made up his mind.
“shall we go, then?”
“alright, ground rules.”
just a handful of the team sits in the room, the ones who know what’s happening waiting eagerly for the green light while the rest wonders what the fuss is about. as much as you want to help them all, it’d be impossible; which is why iwaizumi picked the ones he thought needed the morale boost the most.
with a nod in your direction, he lets you know you’re free to speak.
“the jackals already know this,” you say and atsumu snickers from his seat, winking at you as hinata and bokuto nod excitedly, “but i’m not too strict about the entire thing.”
you can feel the pairs of curious eyes burning holes in you—trying to decipher what’s going on. so, after taking a deep breath and getting an awkward, encouraging smile from iwaizumi, you start voicing out the rules.
“please, be patient. there are so many of you and only one of me. i promise you’ll get your turn,” you give atsumu a pointed look, and this time it's sakusa who snorts while the blond setter rolls his eyes, “which brings me to the next rule, no seconds.”
a hand raises in the air, making you advert your attention to its owner. 
“i still don’t get what’s happening,” suna’s eyes narrow down at you, noticing the embarrassment and hesitation in your posture.          
“don’t worry, suna. we’ll show ya.”
“shut it, miya.”
clearing up your throat, you smile coyly at the middle blocker, “it’ll make sense once i finish explaining, suna-san.”
he shrugs but stays quiet. taking into account the jackals’ reactions plus the cryptic rules, an idea has already formed in his mind. but it couldn’t be that. right?
“uh, again, only one round. all entrances are fine,” you pause, going through the rules in your head to see if there’s anything you might be forgetting, “oh! and you’ll be paired up in teams of three to make things faster.”
“one more thing,” iwaizumi speaks up, this time looking at you instead of the awaiting men, “don’t forget to let us know how you’re doing.”
two loud claps break the tense atmosphere, “well, we should get started then,” atsumu raises from his spot and walks towards you. his hands cradle your face between them and lift it so you can face him properly, “what do ya say, princess?”
his lips land on yours before you can reply to him, a small squeal getting stuck in your throat when his hands travel down your body until he’s squeezing your ass.
you’re too caught up in the kiss to notice the new presence looming behind you.
“i’ll take your pussy before anyone can taint it with their dick.”
sakusa’s words make you shudder. you break apart from atsumu’s mouth to turn around and face him, his dark eyes alluring and drawing you towards him.
“oi, newbie,” atsumu calls out to suna who scoffs in return, “c’mere and join us.”
meanwhile, sakusa guides you to the bed, making you sit on his lap as you wait for the other two to show up. once they do, atsumu immediately settles behind you while suna stands awkwardly at the foot of the bed. it’s hard for you to read his expression since you’re not too familiar with him, so you offer him a reassuring smile and pat the spot next to you. 
the rest of the team watches from their seats as the four of you get started. 
suna lifts your chin, his eyes staring down at you before leaning down and kissing the corner of your mouth. he trails down your neck until he reaches your chest, sucking on the skin gently before running his tongue over the delicate area. in the meantime, atsumu unbuttons your blouse, taking it off and playing with your breasts while sakusa busies himself with taking your pants off.
“i get the hype, now,” suna whispers in your ear, blowing air on it and then biting down on your earlobe, making the hairs of your body rise.
his lips capture yours in a slow kiss —savoring your taste— and one of his hands goes to the back of your neck to keep you in place. his teeth play with your bottom lip, biting it softly and pulling away, his hooded eyes calculating your reaction.
“don’t get too excited, suna,” atsumu says from his spot behind you, pinching your nipples between his fingers and prompting a whine to escape your lips, “you’ll only get her mouth.”
“mhm, is that so?” suna’s question is directed towards you rather than atsumu, tilting your chin up and smirking at the dazed look in your eyes, “can’t wait to see that pretty mouth bulging with my cock, then.”
his lewd words earn a few coughs and clearing throats from the rest, which he chooses to ignore when your hand cups his growing bulge.
“enough you two, let the poor woman have a bit of pleasure too,” sakusa’s dark eyes look at you questioningly, silently asking if you’re ready to continue.
in return, you cup his face with your free hand and kiss his cheek—knowing he wouldn’t appreciate a kiss on the mouth when you just finished making out with another man.
they finish getting you out of your clothes until your bare cunt is hovering over sakusa’s lap. he’s quick to undress and ease his cock into you, suna and atsumu observing as they get rid of their clothes as well.
“fuck,” sakusa groans in your ear, the position allowing you to hide your face in his neck and wrap your arms around his shoulders, “always so tight.”
“scoot over, i need to prep her ass.”
suna snorts at atsumu’s words, pumping his cock twice before kneeling on the mattress—right next to you. he pats your cheek with the swollen head, looking down at you with a faint smirk.
“open up.”
your eyes immediately focus on his length, your mouth watering at the sight. you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, looking up at him and observing as he rests the tip on your tongue. 
“looking so pretty with a cock in your mouth,” he slowly slides in, guiding your head down until half of him is inside, “so warm.” 
a cold liquid dribbles on your backside, making you flinch forward and causing suna’s cock to slide in even more.
“relax, baby. it’s just me,” atsumu rubs the liquid on your asshole, playing with it with his finger before finally sliding it in.
your muscles contract involuntarily, making sakusa groan as he keeps still inside your pussy, waiting for you to grow used to the multiple things going on around you.
“hurry up before i start fucking her.”
a second finger slides in and you moan around suna’s cock, spit running at the corners of your mouth which reminds you to swallow. you hollow your cheeks and retract your mouth until only the tip remains inside, running your tongue over the slit and making the middle blocker shudder.
“someone’s hungry,” he muses.
you hum around him, bobbing your head back and forth and pumping the rest of his length with one hand.
“i’m gonna try get in now, okay?” atsumu taps your ass with his cock, lining it up with your asshole and thrusting in. he watches as the head of his cock finally slips in, groaning when the familiar tightness engulfs him, “that’s it, baby. doin’ so good for me.”
you have to remove your mouth from suna’s cock to avoid biting down on him, the stretch slightly more painful than pleasurable which eventually leads to you tensing up even more. 
“you gotta relax,” atsumu says under his breath, strained by the way you feel around his dick.
it takes you around a minute to calm down, taking deep breaths until you feel yourself loosen up and, with one last push, he’s finally inside.
“omi?” you say against his neck, “could you move a bit, please?”
said man grunts as he starts to move his hips, your slick helping his cock glide in, “color.”
it takes you a few seconds to understand what he meant.
“oh! uhh, green.”
atsumu’s thrusts are slow —testing the waters— since the last thing he wants is to get yelled at for being too rough, too soon. but you’re growing impatient, moving your hips backwards and trying to get more of him inside of you.
“m-more, ‘tsumu. i can take it,” you say and he immediately complies, his muscular thighs now slapping against your ass.
suna remains kneeling next to you, cock in his hand as he waits for you to bring your attention back to him. but he doesn’t have to wait too long, your hand wrapping around his cock and guiding it back into your mouth once you’ve set a steady pace with the other two men.
“thought you had forgotten about me.”
he pushes your hair out of your face, watching your lips wrap around his girth. it’s taking all of his willpower to not hold your head and fuck your face until you’re gagging around him, afraid it might be a big ‘no’ from you. and since it’s the first time he’s getting to experience this, he decides to take whatever’s given to him.
“you’re so wet,” sakusa points out as he looks down at where you two are connected, observing his cock slide in and out of your cunt, covered with your slick.
“‘course she is, she’s being stuffed by three cocks.”
“feels good…” your manage to say after releasing suna with a pop, pumping his shaft with your hand, “a-am i making you feel better?”
a hand lands on your ass, causing you to yelp and tighten your hold on suna’s cock. 
“what do ya think, hm? we’re getting our dicks wet in none other but our slutty little assistant's holes,” atsumu plays with your ass, squeezing it and humming when the imprint of his hands appears on the soft flesh.
“mhm, quite the slut you are,” sakusa whispers in your ear, kissing your neck afterwards, “as long as i get to make a mess out of that cunt of yours before anyone else, i will always enjoy these little sessions of ours.”
your eyes land on suna, waiting for him to say his thoughts on the matter.
his gaze drops to your hand, covered in his pre-cum and your spit which sends a jolt to his cock, making it throb in your hand.
“can’t say i hate it.”
you smile at his words, recognizing the challenge hidden behind them. your mouth wraps around the flushed tip, eyes closing when both sakusa and atsumu thrust up into your holes at the same time. you try to keep your hand steady as you suck suna off, but the lewd grunts and moans coming from them, plus their cocks filling you so nicely make your rhythm falter every once in a while.
a hand starts toying with your clit, causing you to moan around suna’s cock. the vibrations make him shudder, scowling at himself when he realizes his orgasm is approaching faster than he expected.
“fuck, fuck– princess? do you mind if i cum inside?” atsumu grunts.
your muscles clench at the thought of being filled with his cum, imagining the thick liquid oozing out of your sensitive holes only to stuff it back in with your fingers.
“y-yes, ‘tsumu. cum inside me,” you pant as your hands squeeze suna’s cock, pumping it faster as you notice his hips jerking towards you. you turn your face to look at sakusa, who has his eyebrows drawn upwards and his mouth open slightly as he too feels overwhelmed by the pleasure, “omi, you can cum inside as well.”
and he doesn’t need to be told twice, his large hands holding you by your hips so he can thrust his cock into your drenched cunt faster.
moans and squelching noises echo around the room. atsumu picks up his pace as he feels his orgasm approaching, his deep grunts fanning over your neck and taking over your hearing. the drag of sakusa’s pubic bone against your clit has you cumming shortly after. your head rolls forward as both men keep thrusting in and out of you, only stopping once their cum fill your clenching holes.
“shit– look at me,” suna orders you, and you barely have time to process what’s happening.
his cum lands on your face, his hand helping you pump his throbbing cock as the ropes of cum cover your skin. he exhales heavily once he’s done, brushing the flushed head of his cock over your swollen lips, and smearing the white liquid around them.
it’s silent for a few seconds, save for the heavy breathing and pants coming from your mouths.
“holy shit,” oikawa’s voice breaks the silence. his cock strains almost painfully against his pants at the sight of what awaits him.
“yeah, holy shit,” atsumu laughs off, brushing his hair out of his face with one hand as he massages the flesh of your ass with the other, “ya never disappoint, princess.”
with a grunt, the blond setter removes his softening cock from you, his honey eyes —plus a few curious ones— observing the way his cum dribbles out from your stretched hole. the same thing happens with sakusa, who lifts your hips off of him, his cock falling on his stomach and the mix of your slick and his cum dripping down on his length.
atsumu’s fingers immediately go to your cunt, pumping the juices back into you, “god, you love this. don’t you, baby?”
all you can do is whine, your hands clenching the sheets until he removes his fingers from your sensitive pussy, and stuffs them inside your mouth. 
“we all get a turn?” kageyama whispers not so discreetly to hinata, who only nods eagerly in return.
you lick atsumu’s fingers clean which earns you a radiant smile from him.
“here.”
suna has his arm outstretched, handing you a tissue so you can clean your face.
“thank you,” you take it from his hands as you climb off of sakusa’s lap.
you’re cleaning the residues of cum on your face when a hand falls on top of your head. 
“drink some water before you start the next round,” sakusa’s dark eyes suddenly seem warmer and kinder to you, patting your head before disappearing into the bathroom.
after tossing the used tissue away, you turn to iwaizumi and give him a firm nod.
“who’s next?”
your dazzling smile has the rest of the men in awe, silently praying it’s them who get to feel your body with their hands next.
“bokuto,” the wing spiker’s immediately perks up at the sound of his name, “you, kageyama, and hakuba are next.”
the three men raise from their seats and make their way towards the bed—towards you.
“hey, bo,” you offer a loving smile to him, “you ready?”
his strong arms wrap around you, kissing your cheek loudly and making you giggle, “it feels as if i’ve been waiting forever. of course, i’m ready!”
meanwhile, kageyama and gao stand at the foot of the bed, waiting for any instructions or a signal from you that could tell them when to start. luckily, you’re quick to notice their hesitation.
”is there a particular place where you want to be?” you ask them, looking specifically at kageyama and gao, since you want to make sure they feel included.
“dibs on your mouth!”
you blush at bokuto’s enthusiasm but accept his request, stroking his cheek as you wait for the other two to answer.  
“i’ll take whatever,” kageyama says and scratches the back of his neck.
“me too,” gao smiles and takes a few steps towards you, making bokuto move away from you. his large hand tucks one piece of your hair away, his eyes staring at yours before dropping to your lips, “although, i think i’d like it better if i had your pussy gripping my cock. wouldn’t you like that?”
he presses his front against yours, his erection poking at your belly which earns a small gasp from you. you have to stop yourself from taking a look at the tent in his sweatpants, trying to figure out how much of him there is hidden inside the fabric.
“o-okay.”
the middle blocker smiles at you before diving down to your lips. his hands grab your waist, lifting you up from the ground and making you wrap your legs around his torso. he gently places you down on the bed and kisses his way down your neck until his mouth is right above your erect nipple.
“hey! i want to kiss her too,” bokuto complains, “you can’t hog her like that.”
“s’okay bo, come here.”
he doesn’t have to be told twice, immediately climbing onto the bed and leaning down to kiss your lips.
you grab the back of his head and run your fingers through his soft hair, pulling on it gently which causes a groan to rumble in his chest.
a pair of hands slide over your legs, pushing them apart until your bare cunt is spread wide open for everyone to see.
“you’re dripping, babe,” gao murmurs over your nipple, giving it a light tug before flicking his tongue over it, “do you want my cock that badly?”
you can only moan and nod, your lips still busy with bokuto’s.
but there’s someone who still has yet to join you.
“tobio-chan, if you’re not going to do anything then let me take your place instead.”
oikawa’s words snap you out of your daze. you pat bokuto’s cheek signaling him to let go of you, and the same thing happens with gao as you try to sit up. your eyes fall on kageyama who stands at the same spot with a conflicted look and an obvious erection in his pants. 
“hey,” you crawl your way towards him and sit on your knees, “are you uncomfortable?”
his mouth opens but nothing comes out of it. he can feel the weight of everyone’s stare on him, making him look away from you. 
a few seconds pass and there’s still no answer.
“you don’t have to do this, you know?” you say in a small tone, slightly confused as to why he’s rejecting you, “i just thought… i could help you relax.”
he nods, still avoiding your gaze.
you take a look at iwaizumi –who looks as equally as puzzled as you– before looking back at the setter.
“do you want to leave?”
at this, his head finally snaps towards you, “no, i-” he pauses. his eyes are immediately drawn to your mouth, making him involuntarily wet his lips, “i want to stay.”
relief washes over you, a timid smile spreading on your lips which is quickly mirrored by him. you take his hand in yours and guide him to the other side of the bed, urging him to join the rest of you. there’s a hunger in his eyes that has your pussy dripping with your slick, a sigh leaving your lips when your back hits the pillows as you watch him take gao’s previous spot.
“kiss me, tobio.”
and he does. it starts slow, hesitant, but it soon turns desperate. his tongue strokes yours before sucking on it, spit coating your lips thanks to the messiness of the kiss. the strain of his cock inside his pants becomes too uncomfortable to his liking, causing him to start humping against you, trying to relieve himself.
noticing his predicament, you move your hand between your bodies and palm his hard-on. he groans against your lips, his hips jerking forward seeking more of your touch.
in the meantime, both bokuto and gao pump their cocks with their hands, having taken their clothes off while you talked to kageyama.
gao squeezes the head of his cock between his hands, pre-cum oozing from the slit as he imagines the way your cunt is going to grip him, “babe, you’re making us suffer.”
“get in line!”
“atsumu, shut the fuck up.”
“baby?” bokuto asks from where he stands, his own cock stiff and ready to be inside your mouth, “we don’t mean to be pushy, but do you think you could get to us soon?”
“bokuto-san, you’re going to break a rule!” hinata says, clearly concerned for his teammate, “be patient, remember?”
the rest of the team laughs and you can’t help but join them.
at this, bokuto pouts playfully at you, “you’re just teasing me, baby.”
“then come here,” you gasp when kageyama’s mouth sucks at the base of your neck, “y-you wanted my mouth, right?”
bokuto kneels next to your face, patting the leaking tip on your lips.
“i’m going to fuck that pretty mouth of yours and you’re going to take it like a good girl,” he says, his tone leaving no room for questions, “open.”
you comply immediately, lolling out your tongue and waiting for him to rest his heavy cock on top of it. 
the lewd sight in front of him makes bokuto shudder. his hands grasp your head, pushing you down his length until he feels your throat constricting around him.
“fuck– baby,” he grunts and gives a shallow thrust, “i know you can do better than that.”     
you try to relax your jaw so you can fit more of him inside of your mouth. but as you are about to graze your nose against his pubic bone, a finger runs between your folds causing you to flinch.
“i’m still here.”
gao’s tone sounds stern, even if a playful smile tugs his lips upwards, you can see the seriousness swirling in his eyes.
kageyama sighs and leaves your side, stepping away momentarily to take his pants off. 
the middle blocker takes it as his chance to settle between your legs as bokuto keeps your mouth busy.
“you’re drenched, sweetheart,” he muses, running his digits over your slit, “don’t worry, i’ll fill this pussy with my cock so well that you’ll be cumming in no time.”
your eyes travel to his shaft, watching as he pumps it twice before running it between your folds. your brows furrow when you notice how heavy it feels, making you wonder if it will fit in.
he lines himself up with your hole, pushing the head inside which is enough to have you whining around bokuto’s cock.
“you look so sexy,” bokuto groans, pushing your head away from him and watching your spit run down your mouth. he looks at kageyama who stands awkwardly with his cock in hand, “i guess we’re sharing her mouth.”
the setter’s eyes widen slightly before nodding, mimicking bokuto’s position and nudging his cock on your lips, “suck.”
your breath hitches at his order, caught off guard by his demanding tone. you grab his cock from the base and guide it into your mouth, pumping bokuto’s length with your other hand. you hum around kageyama, running your tongue over the head of his cock before hollowing your cheeks and sucking harshly on it. 
but your attention on them doesn’t last too long, the sudden feel of your pussy getting split open by gao’s cock taking it away.
“so tight,” he grunts, one of his hands running over the skin of your inner thigh until he reaches your soaking cunt. he pulls your folds apart, watching you struggle to take his cock inside you—no matter how wet you are, “i bet those jackals haven’t been fucking you like you deserve.”
“oi!” “not true!”
you free your mouth from kageyama and use both hands to pump his and bokuto’s cock, “s-so big, ugh-”
gao pushes more of him in, half of his cock already inserted in you. but he’s just so thick, so big, that you can’t help but clamp down your walls around him. his thumb starts rubbing circles on your clit, trying to relax your walls, as his other hand settles on your abdomen.
“you’re going to be so full of my cock that you’ll be able to see it,” he gives a gentle pat to your belly, “right here.”
your grip on the other two men tightens as gao finally bottoms out, a whine breaking through your lips at the stretch.
“if only you could see yourself,” his thrusts are lazy, mesmerized by the way your belly bulges when he pushes his cock inside you, “so fucking sexy with my fat cock inside your cunt.”
your lips wrap around the tip of bokuto’s cock once more, closing your eyes as pleasure clouds your head. he thrusts in, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag.
“good girl,” bokuto exhales, “taking my cock so well.”
you quicken the pace of your other hand, looking at kageyama as you obscenely suck bokuto.
the setter’s eyes refuse to leave yours, “who would’ve thought our assistant could be so naughty.”
“as if you’re complaining,” gao says, lifting your leg over his shoulder. the new angle allowing him to press his hips closer to yours.
“i never said i was.”
bokuto curses under his breath when you start sucking his balls, pumping the rest of his length with your hand and squeezing the head of kageyama’s cock with the other.
“you’re going to make me cum,” bokuto groans.
giggling, you lick your way up and run your tongue over the slit, “cum in my mouth.”
the sound of collective groans echoes in the room, a fair amount of players finding your words arousing.
“what a slut, let’s see if you keep talking when you’re covered in our cum.”
gao’s threat goes straight to your pussy, making you cream around his girth. the pace of his thumb on your clit quickens once he notices your walls spasming around him.
“ngh, fuck!” you’re breathing heavily by now, barely managing to keep the pace of your hands consistent, “i-i’m gonna… i’m gonna cum.”
“let go, baby.”
one of gao’s hands travels up your body until he’s pinching your nipple between his fingers.
“shit, shit, shit,” you’re thrashing underneath him, your cunt fluttering around his cock thanks to your orgasm.
kageyama’s way too focused on the way your face contorts in pleasure to notice how his hips have started to jerk faster. that is until the familiar coil suddenly snaps and his cum lands on your chin and part of your chest. 
“h-how did you get even tighter- hah!”
warm spurts of cum fill your cunt, the sense of fullness intensifying as gao frees his load inside of you.
“i’m cumming, baby. fuck, fuck–” bokuto chants your name as he too reaches his orgasm, quickly shoving his cock into your mouth and releasing his thick cum inside of it.   
you make sure to keep sucking him, milking his cock dry. once you remove your mouth from him, you bring his and kageyama’s cock closer to your face and pucker your lips, letting the mix of cum and spit fall on their cocks before giving a few kitten licks to the flushed heads.
gao starts to remove his cock from your insides, cursing at the state of your pussy once he’s finally out.
“holy fuck, she’s tightening around nothing.”
you let out a low moan when his fingers spread your lower lips, “t-too sensitive.”
“i think that’s enough,” iwaizumi intervenes, pushing him away, “color?”
“yellow,” but you continue as soon as you see his face become stern, “relax, i just need to calm down a bit.”
kageyama offers you a towel before awkwardly thanking you for your help. and after receiving a kiss on the forehead from bokuto, the three of them leave to go clean themselves.
“iwa-chan, why don’t you give her a massage?”
you let your body fall on the mattress, extending your arms above your head and moaning at the stretch.
“mm, that’d be nice.”
iwaizumi rolls his eyes playfully when he sees you pouting at him, “get on your stomach, i’ll be right back.”
in the meantime, oikawa and hinata take the spots next to you, eager to finally have their turn with you.
“you’re so pretty,” oikawa runs his hands over the skin of your shoulders, “those idiots are lucky to have you.”
your eyes start closing up, focusing on the feel of his fingers on your skin and making goosebumps appear all over your body.
“shoyo, we should help her relax too. don’t you think?”
you catch the suggestive tone in his voice, but his touch feels so good that you choose to ignore it.
both men start caressing your body, hinata’s hands paying special attention to your shoulders while oikawa pets your hair, murmuring sweet nothings. 
“you ready?” iwaizumi pops back into the room, a bottle of oil and a clean towel in his hands.
“mhm.”
the towel rests on your ass, iwaizumi’s warm hands spreading the oil on your back and rubbing at the sore muscles.
“does that feel good, princess?” oikawa asks when he hears you sigh. you are about to reply when iwaizumi hits a sore spot, a groan slipping past your lips and making the setter chuckle, “can you tell me your color now?”
“green.”
oikawa looks at iwaizumi and both men seem to communicate through their eyes, the latter smirking before going back to work.
at first, you don’t pay too much attention to his movements, choosing to focus on the pleasure. but then you notice how his hands seem to ghost lower and lower until he’s kneading your ass, the towel long forgotten.
before you can comment on it, he moves them to your thighs, massaging the soft flesh. it all goes back to normal –or so you think– until his hands reach higher and his digits start grazing your slit.
“hajime…”
“shh,” oikawa coos in your ear, pushing your hair out of your face and kissing your temple, “let him take care of you.”
iwaizumi inserts one finger inside your pussy, curling it until he’s teasing the spongy walls.
whines escape your mouth, your hands gripping the bedsheets which are quickly replaced by hinata’s hands.
“so cute.”
another finger slips in and makes you open your eyes, looking at oikawa helplessly, “o-oikawa-san-”
“tooru,” he interrupts you.
“tooru,” you try his name and he hums, letting you know he’s listening, “could you… uh, k-kiss me?”
“of course, princess.”
he leans down to capture your lips, swallowing your moans when iwaizumi curls both fingers and massages your spot. 
you open your legs, allowing iwaizumi to finger you better as you rut your hips on the mattress, rubbing your clit against the fabric of the sheets and chasing after your orgasm.
“iwa– faster, please.”
he complies immediately, causing wetness to gush out of your cunt and making the distinctive squelching sounds fill the room.
“i’m gonna– ah! i’m c-cumming!” 
“cum for me,” he encourages you, and that’s all you need.
you gush around his fingers, your slick coating them as you squirm under the gaze of the three men.
hinata tugs at your hand, pulling you underneath him and kissing you sloppily. you gasp on his mouth, caught off guard by the sudden movement but quickly melting into the kiss.
he blushes once he pulls away, “s-sorry, couldn’t help myself.”
“it’s okay, shoyo,” you breathe out, caressing his cheek, “want me to help you?”
he beams at your offer, nodding eagerly as he watches you climb on top of him. you straddle his hips and run your cunt over his cock, shivering when his length grazes your clit.
“do you want me to ride you?” you whisper, playing with his hair. 
“wait- i think i have a better idea.”
hinata lifts you from his lap and moves until he’s sitting on the edge of the mattress. he pushes your hips with his hands, turning you around so you’re facing away from him. 
“you can sit on my lap now.”
your ass rests right on top of his cock, but he hooks his arms on your knees, spreading you open, as he lets himself fall back on the mattress.
“what are you–”
“oikawa-san, doesn’t this remind you of something?”
said man laughs, “how could i forget? we had quite some fun back in brazil, huh?”
you’re visibly confused, looking at oikawa with furrowed brows, “what do you want to do?”
“say, princess,” his tone suddenly sounds too sweet for your liking, “have you ever had two cocks in one hole?”
your eyes widen, looking back and forth between oikawa and iwaizumi—who has ridden himself of his clothes and sits next to you, his thick cock in his hand.
“i’ll take that as a no.”
“can we do that?” hinata asks from behind you, his breath fanning on your ear, “we’ll be gentle.”
“there’s literally another free hole for you to use!” someone yells, clearly annoyed they didn’t get the chance to do it.
oikawa clicks his tongue, “where’s the fun in that?”
after taking a minute to think it through, you agree to their offer, “okay… uh- iwa?” you turn to look at him, “what about you?”
seeing as there’s no room for him to take your ass, his eyes land on your mouth. and with two taps of his finger on your cheek, he lets you know his decision.
“think you can suck me off?”
they’re all given the green light when you answer his question. hinata raises you from his lap, aligning his cock with your entrance before letting your weight fall on top of it. you groan at the familiar thickness stretching you nicely, missing the flash of hunger in the setter’s eyes.  
“my turn.”
oikawa presses the tip on your entrance, pushing forward and making room for his own cock.
the burn of having two cocks in one hole is new to you, but it’s surprisingly more pleasurable than you thought it’d be. you lift your eyes to look at oikawa, his gaze already locked on you, and you feel your pussy cream around their cocks at the lust in his eyes.
“enjoying yourself, princess?”
you moan when he bottoms out, watching the muscles of his abdomen contract and feeling his cock pulsing inside of you.
the thrill of being stretched by two cocks, at the same time, has your head spinning; your thoughts becoming lewd as you picture both men cumming inside you and globs of cum dripping from your abused hole.
“oikawa-san, did you feel that?” hinata asks. half-amused, half excited, “she’s squeezing us so well.”
“naughty, princess,” the setter grunts, “don’t forget about iwa-chan.”
you turn your head to face him, catching the irritated look he sends oikawa before looking down at you.
iwaizumi’s eyes immediately soften, but a smirk slowly tugs at the corners of his lips, “you seem busy.”
“there’s always room for japan’s national team athletic trainer.”
he can’t help but laugh, shaking his head at the silly title. he raises from his seat and settles himself above you, his cock hovering on your face and making your mouth water.
“whenever you’re ready.”
you don’t need to be told twice. grasping his thick cock with your hand, you lean forward and flick your tongue on the head, looking at him through your lashes with faux innocence.
“start moving,” iwaizumi hisses, the words directed at the other two men, “seems like she needs a little reminder of who’s in charge right now.”
oikawa and hinata look at each other with smirks on their lips. as hinata said earlier, they’ve been in this position before, so there’s no need for words between them since they both know what’s coming next.
hinata moves his head slightly to the side, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder and, at the same time, granting him the view of your cunt being filled with their cocks.
“look at her, oikawa-san” his eyes are locked on your pussy, captivated by the way you suck them in, “she looks so pretty with two cocks splitting her open.”
hinata’s lewd words prompt you to involuntarily moan, the vibrations landing on iwaizumi’s cock.  
“hmm, you like it when you’re reduced to nothing but a slut. don’t you?”
you blink up at iwaizumi as you keep bobbing your head up and down his shaft, opting to hum to let him know you’re not ignoring him.
but his words catch someone else’s attention.
“is that true?” oikawa asks, amusement clear in his voice, “you like being reminded you’re a whore? how much of a greedy slut you are by fucking an entire volleyball team?”
you’re speechless, his words –matched with his and hinata’s harsh thrusts– causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head.
“answer me.”
oikawa’s hand wraps around your throat, barely applying any pleasure but it’s enough to send your mind into a frenzy.
after releasing iwaizumi’s cock from your mouth, you take a second to swallow down your spit before answering him.
“y-yes, tooru. i like being treated like a slut.”
his eyes sparkle with mischief, pleased by your words.
“good, because that’s how you’re going to be treated from now on.”
a hand travels to your throbbing clit, rubbing circles on the sensitive nub.
“s-shoyo!”
“shh, it’ll make you feel good.”
something wet slaps against your cheek, “don’t get distracted.”
you nod and go back to sucking iwaizumi off, moaning every time hinata or oikawa hit a spot inside your cunt. you dare take a look at where your body connects with both men, and you catch yourself becoming entranced by the way their cocks slide in and out of your pussy so easily.
you are familiar with hinata’s cock, but it’s nice to see the contrast between the two of them. while hinata’s length is thick and veiny, oikawa’s leans towards the slimmer side—but still with a considerable length. either way, both men manage to hit those sweet spots inside you and make you see stars. 
“shit– princess,” oikawa falters a bit when he feels your walls fluttering around him.
“we can cum inside you, right?” hinata asks, sensing his orgasm approaching. after all, he had been waiting for his turn for around an hour.
you pull away from iwaizumi, a string of spit connecting your lips with his cock and causing it to twitch at the sight.
“you can cum wherever you want.”
“oh? the team’s cocksleeve,” oikawa adds, “i see.”
iwaizumi chuckles, combing your hair out of your face and pushing his cock back into the warmth of your mouth, “you like that nickname, sweetheart?”
with his length still in your mouth, you manage to hum in affirmation.
hinata’s pace on your clit quickens as his hips jerk faster, your cunt squeezing their cocks even more in return, “i’m cumming, ah– i-i’m gonna cum!”
he manages to say before you feel him twitch inside you, pumping his cum into your walls. the fullness plus his rapid movements on your clit cause the familiar warmth to take over your body. but it’s your fourth orgasm of the night, and before you can warn anyone, liquid spurts out of your cunt.
you squirm on top of hinata, gushing around his and oikawa’s cock while your mouth remains occupied with iwaizumi’s.
“holy shit.”
both oikawa and iwaizumi cum at the sight of you squirting before them, observing the wetness soaking oikawa’s abdomen and running all the way down onto the bedsheets. they groan as they feel their load releasing into you, oikawa filling your tender cunt while iwaizumi fills your mouth.
you try to swallow a bit of iwaizumi’s cum but it’s useless. your chest heaves in exhaustion, your eyes closing involuntarily as you’re being hit with wave after wave of fatigue.
“hey,” oikawa winces when he removes his cock from you. he shoots a worried glance at iwaizumi before he’s leaning forward so he can take a closer look at you, “princess? how are you feeling?”
iwaizumi nudges hinata with his knee, wordlessly telling him to let go of you.
the following moments become a foggy mess, your mind barely registering the pair of arms wrapping around you and carrying you somewhere else.
all you can feel is tiredness, and the dampness between your thighs, before you finally pass out.
consciousness slowly makes its way to you, replacing the sleepiness and making you aware of your surroundings as a familiar soreness sits heavy on your body.
in an instant, flashbacks from the previous night run through your mind.
you grip the duvet and push it away from you, only to notice the set of clothes you’re wearing: an oversized hoodie and a pair of sweatpants that clearly don’t belong to you. but you don’t have time to dwell on it, the sound of your ringtone blasting all over the room and making you scramble around the bed so you can answer the call.
but it’s of no use when it goes to voicemail—you were a bit too late.
when you manage to find your phone, you tap on the screen to see whose call you just missed.
‘hajime’
your fingertips hover on the contact name, debating between returning the call or wait for him to call you again. but a few notifications pop up at the top of the screen signaling you have three text messages from him.
hey, i guess you’re still asleep. don’t freak out when you wake up, you deserve the rest so it’s okay if you stay in bed. i left your breakfast on the nightstand and you can always call me if you need anything else.
and i thought you’d like to see this.
there’s a link attached at the end of the message.
you click on it and wait for the page to load, tapping your nails on the back of your phone anxiously. a headline in big bold letters takes over the screen and you have to stop yourself from squealing.
‘japan men’s volleyball team makes it past the first round.’
you start scrolling down the article, reading how spectacular the match was and how the entire team seemed to be in their best shape. you feel your face heat up when you read the argentinian team won their match too, with multiple comments praising oikawa’s performance.
with a smile on your lips, you go back to your messages to type a quick reply to iwaizumi. only to notice you have one more text from him.
it’s our turn to take care of you.
12K notes · View notes
weepingvoidpenguin · 3 years
Text
One of Your Favorites
Jealous Bucky x Reader
Summary: You have an objective. Get Rumlow to confess. Simple enough, right? No. Aside from his usual condescending attitude towards you, Bucky has made it extremely apparent that he doesn’t think you’re capable of - well, anything, but especially not handling Rumlow. And yet, he is the biggest challenge of this entire ordeal.
Warning: T R I G G E R WARNING!! ATTEMPTED SA, DRUGS, language, light smut. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT READ IF SA WILL TRIGGER YOU. 
Word Count: 8.3k
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   “We have good intel stating he’s working as a double agent for HYDRA. Selling information, exploiting tactics, even going so far as to tell them where we’ll be and when.” Natasha scanned the room, making sure she had everyone’s attention during the briefing. 
   You slouched back in your swivel chair and twisted to-and-fro slightly with your hands gripping the arm rests on either side. It took all of your willpower to act engrossed in her words. And you meant every single drop. You’d been paying attention, sure, but the only issue was the dominating presence two seats to your right and directly in your line of sight to Natasha. You rolled your chair to the left to clear the path for the third time, only for him to block your way without missing a beat. The growl that left your mouth was nearly involuntary. Nearly.
   How long would this man act like a child? Despite his graceful and seemingly unsuspecting movements, you were fully aware his placement was intentional. This was not the first, nor did you doubt that it would be the last, time that Bucky acted impudently toward you. Frankly, you’d grown bored of his behavior. It was the same thing everyday. He would act a nuisance during the briefings, speak over you whenever he had the chance, steal the limelight from you and invalidate any concerns or thoughts you shared. The whole charade grew tiring and he had been dancing on thin ice for months now.
   You averted your gaze from burning holes through the freshly washed, brown locks and switched your attention back up to the redhead. Thankfully, too, because you managed to catch the end of her sentence just as she locked eyes with you.
   “And that’s why Y/N is going to be the one to extract the information from him,” she finished.
   You blinked, “Wait, what?” 
   Bucky straightened his posture and threw a quick glance your way, “Yeah, what? She’s got no heat, couldn’t toast marshmallows if we gave her all day. She shouldn’t lead this, she wouldn’t know how,”
   “Well, tonight might be a good time to start learning, then,” Steve chimed in, throwing a wink your way. You smiled and appreciated his aid, not because you needed it but because at this point, you were seething and if you opened your mouth to defend yourself this meeting would go south, quickly. Luckily, Steve always believed you were capable of a great deal of things and knew you strove for more experience so any opportunity to lead or expand was one he thought you should take. 
   “Besides,” Tony spoke up, twirling a platinum pen between his fingers from across the table, “our little double-agent has always had the hots for Y/N so unless you’re gonna be the one to bat your eyelashes at him and get him alone in a room, Mr. Barnes, we have to use his own flaws against him.” He turned to face you and held up a hand, “Not to say that liking you is a flaw, you’re great Hot-Stuff but exploiting him is our best option indefinitely,”
   “Do I have to seduce him?” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and raising a brow towards Nat, trying your damned hardest to avoid the unmistakable glare the brown-haired super soldier was sending your way. 
   “The only thing you have to do is extract any information on him that you can. Get him a little drunk, catch him in a slip-up or two, take note of any inconsistent stories and be on your merry way,” she reassured, “How you manage to do that is up to you,”
   “Ooh, extortion,” Clint chirped up from the far back corner, his hands rubbing together maliciously around an arrow he pulled from his sheathe, something you noticed he did a lot when he was uninterested; be it a person, mission, or conversation.
   “No. Not extortion,” Steve shut it down and you chuckled at how Clint’s countenance fell into one of disappointment. 
   “Not yet anyway,” Natasha mumbled and you sighed as she walked around the room and handed each of you a folder with your individual objectives inside.
   “But he’s such a pervert,” you grumbled.
   “All the easier,” 
~
   The rest of the day was drudged with Nat while she taught the pertinence of body language (both yours and theirs), verbal ruses, and overall ensnarement. You bat your eyelashes until you were certain you would catch enough wind to fly away, smirked enough that your cheeks began to ache and raised your eyebrows ‘til you felt the impending wrinkles on your forehead. By the end of the drill you weren’t sure you were even going to make it to the company party from the migraine creeping its way on.
   “How’s the bait coming along?” His voice alone caused you to roll your eyes but you paid no mind while you rubbed at your temples and stood up alongside Natasha.
   “She’s not gonna be able to lie to me any time soon but she can flirt her way to whatever she wants,”
   “Benefits of targeting a narcissistic misogynist, they don’t think anyone can fool them.” Tony belted as he sauntered into the room with strawberries, offering them out to you while he munched on one.
   “She’ll still mess it up,” Bucky countered, “Make someone else do it,”
   You plucked the fruit off Tony’s tray and examined it, trying to figure out whether you were going to consume it or use it as a weapon.
   “I really appreciate your words of encouragement, James. Unfortunately, they’re not wanted, nor are they needed.” You bit into the fruit and glided towards the door, looking over your shoulder at the super soldier, “So unless you actually have something to contribute, I suggest you stay the hell out of my way while I get the job done,”
   Nat walked out behind you and handed you a tiny, skin-colored device meant to conceal itself and you placed it in your ear. 
   “The conversation is gonna be recorded so we can catch any inconsistencies. We’ll all be able to hear what you’re saying so tread on delicate waters but don’t be afraid to shake mountains if you have to,”
   You nodded and opened your door for her to enter your room knowing she’d want to help you get ready for the event. Natasha, shocking as it turns out, enjoys company while preparing for events. She would much prefer to be surrounded by people than be alone. You never had gall to ask her why that is. Or maybe you respected her too much to ask.
   An hour had passed, maybe two, but you enjoyed the silence between you both. There was no need to fill the empty quiet when it was so comfortable and welcoming. You two spoke without words at times and that was probably your favorite personal skill. Eventually, there came a knock on your door and you opened to find Wanda with her flat iron and make-up bag in tow. It’d long since been decided that your room was the gathering center.
   Wanda helped you finish touching up your outfit and you waited on your bed while they finished getting ready. Nat occasionally quizzed you on certain situations and how you should act depending on the tones and moods of the conversation. You tried to explain that you didn’t have difficulty reading a room but Nat tested you all the same. 
   “And if he puts his hand on your thigh?” She called out from your bathroom.
   “Then he loses it,” you practically sang in response.
   You were met with a flying hairbrush and laughed at the onslaught.
   “You’re not the only one with that mentality,” Wanda called out as well, her iron glossing over thin strands of hair.
   “Nat knows I can handle myself.” You sat up on the bed and went over to your closet to collect your favorite pair of shoes to go along with the formal attire Nat selected for tonight. “What a coincidence that we happen to have a company party the same night we have to extract information,” you hollered over your shoulder, moving aside terribly worn shoes while you scoured for the pair you had in mind.
   “This objective has been in the works for weeks now,” Nat released the tendril of hair from around the barrel and pinned it to her head so it could cool.
   “Wow, thanks for the heads up, then.” You gripped the desired pair and placed them beside your nightstand for later.
   “The plan wasn’t solid until we knew for a fact that Rumlow was coming. It’s a company party so it’s not mandatory but once he heard you were making an appearance, it didn’t take very much persuading,”
   You rolled your eyes and plopped back down on your mattress, “He’s so annoying, I doubt I can hold much of a conversation with him,”
   “Take a shot or two to ease your nerves, if he sees you drinking it’ll put him at ease too. He’ll be more inclined to drink,” Natasha recommended. “But don’t act too out of character. If you were always curt and short with him and suddenly you start acting over-friendly, he may get suspicious. He’s an idiot but he’s a paranoid one,”
   You nodded, taking a mental note to have a half-empty bottle in your grasp when Rumlow arrives. If he thinks you’ve already been drinking, he might also consider catching up. 
   “Y/N? Not uptight for once?” Wanda sarcastically questioned. “I can’t picture it,”
   “Oh, fuck off,” you grumbled and in turn received laughter from the two girls. “Besides, of all of us I’m by far the least uptight. Barnes takes the cake for that one,”
   There was a beat of silence that you didn’t register before you were met with a response.
   “Ya know, he’s not as bad as you paint him out to be.” Nat unpinned the curl from her head and moved on to the next section, “He’s got some serious loyalty and always willing to volunteer first for everything,”
   You lifted your head to stare at her reflection through the mirror, “What are you talking about? He’s annoying and irate and lacks a filter,”
   “Mmm, irate isn’t the word I would use,” Wanda countered, looking over to Natasha.
   Nat shook her head in response, “I’d lean more towards . . . over-protective,” 
  “Much better,” Wanda agreed.
   You squinted your eyes at their image and felt the corners of your lips turn downwards, “Over-protective? Since when are you two defending Barnes?”
   “We’re not defending him, per say.” Wanda glanced over to Nat, “We’re just trying to give you a fresh perspective,”��
   “You could give me a brand new pair of eyes and I’d still see him the same,” you retorted, now leaning on your elbows due to the strain on your neck. 
   They ignored the comment, “And he’s only annoying to you,”
   “You’re telling me he doesn’t annoy you at all?” You asked, an eyebrow raised.
   “More like . . . he doesn’t go out of his way to mess with us.” Nat applied a nude color onto her lips.
   “So you agree that he goes out of his way to irritate me,” you stated rather than asked.
   “That’s been made very apparent,” Wanda responded. “But you have to wonder why,”
   You huffed a little and sprawled back out on the bed just to result in staring at the ceiling above. If you looked hard enough your mind would create pictures from the chaos of the cracks and shapes began to form. Sometimes, when the night lay still and life seemed to dwindle at the edges of your reality, you could swear a familiar face fashioned together and your imagination ran wild with the images you’d see. Some that brought a warmth to your cheeks even now. 
   You shot up out of bed and shook the memories from your vision. Ugh. He haunts you even when he’s not actively tormenting you. How he’s managed to crawl his way so deeply within your skin you had no idea but you fought for control of your thoughts whenever you caught them slipping into that hellhole.
   “Or slipping into euphoria,” Wanda chimed in.
   “Wanda!” You scolded, crossing your arms, “Euphoria my ass,”
   “Yeah, he thinks so too,” she continued and you chucked the abandoned hairbrush back their way. 
   “Stay out of my head,” you jokingly sniped at her but was met with a low chuckle.
   “I didn’t even have to be in your head to know what you were thinking of,” Nat defended and caught your weapon of choice.
   “Are you guys done yet?” You rolled your eyes and stretched yourself out before swiping up the pair of heels you’d chosen and sliding them onto your feet.
   “Why? Are you in a hurry to see a certain someone?” Natasha teased and Wanda let out an eruption of laughter.
   “All right, I’m done.” You made a beeline for the door and threw it open, “Lock up when you’re finished!” You bellowed over your shoulder and made your way to the top floor of the building where all the parties are typically held.
   You didn’t run into anyone on the way up and you used that time to calm yourself, prying inch by inch away from the invasive thoughts that called for you in the darkest hours of the night. But, then again, maybe those tormenting thoughts weren’t that bad? You mean, he certainly IS handsome, very much so actually. And he has the most knee-wobbling smirk you’d ever come to know, not to mention those little tricks he does with his knives always manage to entrance you. God, did he know how to use a knife. 
   On more than one occasion had you caught yourself staring at how his hands encapsulated the hilt of the blade. How they clenched and relaxed, drawing out some of the more prominent veins on one of the extremities; of course, you were even more so enticed by the hand he hid as well. You’d imagined what it felt like to have such strong hands grip onto your thighs and coax you into spreading them open with just a few teasing touches here and there. You couldn’t fathom the front you’d put up would last very long, he was stellar at pulling reactions from you. He’d see you break under his caresses and he’d degrade you like he always did but this time it’d emit a different response from you, one that made you whimper and shake. At that, he’d probably call you a good girl, he definitely seems the type to switch between degradation and praise, and would press his mouth up just where you wanted it the most. You’d try your hardest to be quiet but damn the way that tongue moved against you and the way he’d pull you harder against his face at each sound of pleasure you let slip past your lips. He’d enjoy it, too. Eyes closed as he devours you, he likes to put on a show for you to watch. Give you a memory that’ll slick your thighs later that night if he hadn’t fucked you into a coma by then. He’d make you watch him and if you dared to close your eyes you’d earn a firm, cold smack on your ass. He knows you like when he uses temperature play. He growls a little too, he can’t help his innate behavior. Then, just as the accumulation is coming to its apex he’d pull away abruptly and kiss you straight on your mouth so you can taste yourself and that’d earn him another whimper which would result in another smack that leads to that cold metal trailing its way to your core and just as he pushes the tip of his finger inside-
   You cough and straighten your posture as the elevator door opens. When had you leaned up against the back wall of the elevator? Oh Gods, you could feel the slick at the apex of your thighs and you squeezed them together as inconspicuously as you could in fear that you were producing a . . . scent that would be rather difficult to conceal. But the slick only grew worse when you locked eyes with the person stepping into the elevator.
   Fuck.
   “That’s what you chose to wear?” He asked, a certain venom in his tone that immediately calmed the ache in your heat.
   “And what would you have me wear instead, Barnes?” You quipped back, your body facing forward as he took his place beside you in the cramped space.
   There was a beat of silence. Then another. “Not that,” he responded.
   “Well I’ll make sure to ask you next time since you have such impeccable taste,” you retorted, your eyes yet to abandon the sight of the closing doors.
   You weren’t sure of all the effects of the Super Soldier Serum that had been injected into Bucky and all that it heightened but you prayed to any God that would listen that his hearing wasn’t one of those things. You were too preoccupied with attempting to settle the hot pulse beating between your legs to worry about how loud your discomfort came across.
   “What do you look so nervous about?” Bucky’s gruff voice prodded. “You can’t possibly be nervous about the mission considering how big-headed you are,”
   You took a deep, long breath and held it to soothe you. Had you not been so previously preoccupied, you’d have given him hell for the insult. “I’m not nervous about that,” you sniped and rested back against the cool wall to satiate your burning skin before lifting your gaze to him only to find him already examining you.
   “Of course not, I just said that,” he retorted, bringing a gloved hand to his face to rub along his jaw, “there’s obviously nothing for you to worry about,”
   You scoffed, “And why is that, Barnes?” Cue the dramatic crossing of your arms. 
   “You’re smarter than Rumlow and significantly better trained. Overall, he really doesn’t hold a candle to your ability,” He paused for a second, his whole frame tensing until he remembered to relax, “But that’s not really saying much considering it’s Rumlow,” 
   You hadn’t noticed you raised your eyebrows until you felt your face fall, “Ah, there he is. You had me worried there for a second, Barnes. Thought you might actually try something new and display common decency for once,”
   A corner of his mouth turned up subtly and he shook his head. You trailed your gaze down to his hidden hand and stared long enough to burn a hole through the fabric.
   “If something’s bothering you, Dollface, go ahead and speak up,” 
   You weren’t sure what possessed you to say anything, especially knowing how touchy the subject was for him but the words left your mouth anyway, “I don’t know why you insist on hiding yourself,”
   He lurched his head back, your statement seeming to have a physical affect on the man and you mentally slapped yourself for saying anything.
   “I’m not hiding myself,”
   “But you are,” you interrupted, your thoughts coming out in pools of candor, “you aren’t your hand. You aren’t your past. You are you. Presently. You’re not the Winter Soldier anymore. That’s not even the same hand you had back then. It’s not tainted and neither are you. I say drop the gloves,”
   “And why would I care about what you say?” He growled, his eyebrows furrowed together and his neck tight in potential restraint.
   The elevator dinged and you looked towards the opening doors, “You don’t have to but they don’t look right with your suit either.” You walked through the exit and sauntered over to the others who had already gotten the party started, leaving Bucky dumb-founded behind you. “I need a shot,”
   “Already ready,” Tony quipped up, holding the small glass in the air for everyone to behold before bringing his cheek to yours in mock welcoming, “This’ll up your tolerance for the next hour, try to get all your drinking done within that time-frame,”
   You pulled away with a warm smile after faux kissing his cheek, “Finally!” you displayed and threw the liquid back in one swift motion, your face scrunching together against your will.
   “Yeah, she’s got a kick to her,” he mumbled and handed you a fruity drink to chase it down with. 
   You went around and said hi to everyone as you recognized most of those present. You made small chatter with those lesser known and drank the liquid in your hand significantly quicker than you’d like to. You excused yourself after you finished the drink and walked over to the bar, scanning the room as you were handed another glass. No Rumlow in sight.
   You headed towards the foosball table and gripped the handles after setting the beverage down on the counter beside you. You flinched as a reflection of light caught your eye and at first you thought your glass was the source. Until your eyes fixated on the reflection’s actual origin. To your far right, and up a few steps you found Bucky conversing with Steve, a dull light emitting from his hand. Not a glove in sight.
   “So, where’s your boyfriend?” Sam inquired when he filled the opposing spot.
   You rolled your eyes, “Bucky’s not my boyfriend,”
   “Bucky?” Sam’s tone chirped up teasingly, a knowing look wearing on his face.
   Your grip tightened around the handles and you slowly pulled away to throw the little white ball through the circle, your hands immediately twisting the miniscule players around. Your eyes shot back and forth, your sight never leaving the darting sphere. Sam still managed to win the first point.
   “Ha!” He shouted in triumph, bringing his finger up as if to scold you, “Don’t think you got away with that comment either, Y/N,”
   “What comment?” you questioned and gulped most of your drink before slamming it back down on the table.
   You heard your earpiece come to life with quiet static and you tried to keep your face masked. Rumlow had entered. Not a surprise either, the party was finally starting to pick up now.
   Sam threw the ball in and you turned the players meticulously this time, brute strength hadn’t helped you earlier so maybe you should take it slow. Steve made his way over to the table and threw his drink back, the liquid trickling down the side of his face before he wiped it away. Sam won the second point.
   “I play winner,” Tony chimed, standing beside Steve.
   You made a point to catch up and now you two were tied at three each. 
   “Best out of five?” You proposed, quirking an eyebrow at Sam.
   “If you didn’t want to play anymore you could’ve just said that,” he teased and you smirked at him as Tony made a subtle show of handing you another drink and you finished your second. “Loser takes two shots?”
   “Deal.” You nodded, knowing you didn’t have much of a choice as a small crowd began to form around you two. Rumlow amongst them. 
   Your jaw dropped when Sam shot the ball directly into your goal as soon as he’d let the ball go.
   “What the fuck?” You shouted, “No fair! That doesn’t count!”
   Thor erupted in laughter to your right and you blinked slowly, staring at the gargantuan man. 
   “It most certainly does,” Sam shouted back, his grin practically touching his ears.
   “Sam, take it easy on her,” Bucky muttered from beside him, quickly averting his gaze from yours and his expression loosened, “The brat hates losing,”
   “Brat?” You snarled.
   Bucky took a swig of his beer, watching you the entire time and you reeled back the fire beginning to form in your chest just to bring your drink up to your lips and chug the entire thing down. You handed it over to Tony who left to replace it. 
   “Last point,” Sam stated, “It’s not too late to quit now,”
   You shook your head and blinked away the feign distortion you were supposed to have. “Just play the ball,”
   “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he teased and threw the ball in. 
   You wanted to win. Desperately. But you had a character to play tonight and she was supposed to be drunk. So you hit your hand against the corner of the table just as Sam happened to make the winning point. You grumbled and threw him a glare when Tony broke through the crowd.
   “Coming through,” he shouted, handing two small glasses to you while you gripped your knuckles in pain. “Noooo, you’re not getting out of taking these. C’mon, take your punishment,”
   “Yes, Daddy,” you grumbled and cringed at your own words when the realization hit you. Whatever. You were supposed to be drunk, anyway. 
   “Daddy?” Tony quipped and pulled the drinks back towards himself, “Maybe you should be cut off,”
   “What?” You argued, leaning slightly on the table with your hand and snatching the drinks from Tony’s hold, effectively spilling some on yourself. “See?” You lifted up the half empty shot glass, “This barely counts as a shot,”
   “I’ll get her a new one,” Rumlow offered and disappeared before anyone could argue. 
   “She really doesn’t need another-” Bucky tried to interject and take the shots from you but you twisted around and chugged down the one full glass.
   Water.
   You looked up at Tony and his smirk was barely noticeable. But you could tell. Bucky nearly ripped the other drink from you but Tony blocked his path and you exaggerated your next drink as Rumlow broke back into the crowd, shot in tow.
   “Here.” Rumlow’s calloused hand held the drink up above you and you stared at him with a questioning look. “Open,” he ordered and the fire burning in your chest fought to destroy everything in its vicinity. You bit your lip in refrain but tossed your head back and opened your mouth.
   Static broke over your earpiece. Don’t drink that! Wanda’s voice erupted.
   Your eyes widened as the liquid made its way down but you coughed hard to stop whatever you could. 
   Why? Steve’s voice came through right after.
   You choked on the liquid and shut your eyes at the way it burned its way down. You reached your hand out to grab someone’s drink to ease the burning and grasped a tall glass and tossed it back. The burning didn’t ease up and you felt a hand rest on your back.
   “Are you okay?” Rumlow’s voice rang out and your skin nearly recoiled from the contact, “How about we get you some water?”
   You looked up at him when the burning subsided minimally and nodded your head, letting him lead the way to the bar. He parted the crowd and someone took step right behind you to follow when the presence suddenly died out abruptly. You turned around to check who it had been and found no one.
   Why? Steve asked again.
   Where’s Wanda? Bruce broke through.
   You lifted your head and flitted your gaze around the room until you found the familiar Sokovian on the couch, laying down with her eyes closed. You pulled away from Rumlow but his grip on your hand tightened and his steps grew in haste. You whirled your head to yell at him but the way the room swayed with the movement cause you to shut your mouth in surprise. 
   Didn’t Tony say you would have a higher tolerance?
   “Couch...” you muttered, pointing over your shoulder just in case your target was curious enough to ask but the message was delivered.
   Rumlow hoisted you up onto the bar stool and stood on your open side, using his body to keep you from falling over. Or to cage you in.
   “I don’t feel good,” You rested an elbow on the countertop and held your head up.
   “I can’t imagine you would. You’ve been chugging those drinks like they’re water.” Despite that, Rumlow motioned to the bartender and asked for two more.
   You giggled and your head lulled forward with the action. You let Rumlow catch you from tumbling over. Why did your body feel so heavy? Not to mention the way everything around you dazed about. You couldn’t catch a single action, let alone attempt to read Rumlow’s body language. But you did happen to notice the way his eyes searched the room before coming back to you.
   “You okay?” You rested your forearm against his chest and pushed slightly to allow yourself a better view of his face.
   A small smirk, “Am I okay? What about you?”
   You smacked your lips and brought the ice cold glass to your lips. That’s not water. “I’m doing reeaalllyy good,” you drawled.
   Rumlow chuckled and pushed you deeper into the chair, “I can tell.” He took a sip, his attention never faltering from your body, “Just be sure to pace yourself from here on out,”
   You made a show of cocking your head to the side and letting a smile sprawl onto your face as you studied him. 
   “What?” he questioned, a curious lift in his brow.
   You shook your head gently and kept your gaze on him over the brim of your glass, “You’re just . . . not what I was expecting,”
   “And what were you expecting?” 
   Don’t forget to bat your eyelashes. “Worse,”
   “Sorry to disappoint,” he jeered, his attention once again cast throughout the room before centering back on you.
   You followed his action but quickly came to the conclusion that moving any pace faster than a sloth was going to make you nauseous and you could barely keep a thought together. Your stomach began to rise in your chest and the fear seized your throat shut. Why couldn’t you hold onto a thought for longer than a second? It was like you were aware of your lack of consciousness but could do nothing about it because any thought or bout of panic phased through just as soon as it arrived.
   “What are you so tense for, Rumlow? You know you’re not currently on the clock, right?” You teased, your head leaning on your shoulder as you spoke.
   He brought his drink up to his lips and finished it off in three gulps, “I’m not tense. It’s just hard to turn it off sometimes,”
   You nodded slowly and pushed your drink towards him, “Relax. You know everyone here,”
   He shook his head and placed your drink back in front of you before asking for another beer.
   “And two shots!” You shouted to the bartender, throwing two of your fingers high up and instantly regretting how fast you’d done it.
   “Are you trying to get me drunk?” He asked you, a side smirk beginning to form.
   You placed your finger over your lips and hushed, “Shh, I won’t tell if you don’t.” You dragged your lower lip down and his eyes fixated to commit the scene to memory. “Besides, I always feel dumb if I’m the only one drunk,”
   He motioned to the rest of the party, “Believe me, Sugar, you’re not the only one enjoying yourself,”
   “But are you?” 
   “Am I what?” 
   “Enjoying yourself?” 
   Your skin crawled when he placed his rough hand on your barren thigh, “Absolutely,”
   Don’t forget what you’re here for. Don’t let the objective slip. Gods, how the fuck were you supposed to retain anything when you were so sleepy? And why was it so warm?
   “Hot,” you mumbled, fishing around in your glass for an ice cube to rub on your face.
   “Thank you,”
   You threw your head back in laughter and nearly earned yourself an up-close and personal view of the floor had Rumlow not wrapped an arm around your waist and held you steady. Once he was certain you weren’t going to toss yourself onto the ground, he parted your legs and stood between them to keep you rooted to your seat.
   All the movement had you spinning and you white-knuckled Rumlow’s cotton shirt to keep yourself grounded to something, anything. Red warning lights were firing up in your chest and you tensed with the way your body buckled to the panic coursing through you. Your heart pounded in your ears and danced across your skin, lighting it on fire and making the room too stuffy to bear. Please, no. Not now. Focus. Snap out of it. Come back, stay back. Your breathing hitched and you looked down at the sensation crawling its way up higher on your thigh. Too hot. Everything was too hot, if you didn’t get out of this now you would never-
   “Vision!” You cheered, happy to see your friend.
   The presence on your thigh recoiled slightly.
   “I’m taking Wanda to her room, seems she’s had a bit too much to drink,” Vision informed and you’d only just then noticed the body in his hold.
   “Wanda!” You smiled, admiring her peaceful features as she slept in his arms. You poked at her cheek then jerked your gaze back up to Vision. “What? Wanda doesn’t drink,”
   She’s not acting, Sam’s voice erupted in your ear and you flinched at the sound. 
   Vision’s eyes went from you to Rumlow then back to you slowly, “Y/N . . . are you okay?”
   You beamed at him and slowly brought up your thumb. “Good,” you responded.
   You followed Vision’s gaze back up to Rumlow and smiled at the agent beside you. You guess he’s kind of cute. In a strange, unsettling way.
   “She’s had a lot to drink, so we’re just trying to slow down the pace. Aren’t we, Y/N?” Rumlow looked down at you.
   You nodded fervently, “Yup!” 
   Vision hesitated but knew he didn’t pose much of a threat with Wanda in his arms unconscious, so he quirked a smile and walked towards the hall.
   Someone get to Y/N, something’s not right, Vision ordered and you lifted your head up to find him. You could have sworn he just left.
   “Here.” Rumlow handed you a glass, “Drink this, it’ll cool you down,” 
   You stared at the glass in his hold and looked up at him, “You drink it first,” you slurred, holding your finger up at him.
   He cocked his head to the side but took a swig of the drink and you watched it go down his throat. You shrugged and grabbed at it.
   Do not drink that, Nat ordered from somewhere and you looked around in wonder at who she was yelling to.
   Bucky, Sit down! Steve growled.
   Like hell, responded a voice you knew all too well.
   Your smile grew and you looked through the crowd, “Bucky!” You feverishly called, completely expecting to see him before you. Rumlow’s head lifted instantly, his eyes scouring the area.
   “I’ve got this, Pretty Boy,” Tony hastily spoke, “How ya doin’, Hot Stuff?” He interrogated and you reeled at the tone.
   “Quite well, thank you,” you responded tenaciously and attempted to take a swig of the drink in your grasp.
   Tony’s hand shot out and covered the top, slamming the cup back down on the counter and effectively getting the drink all over your dress.
   “What the fuck?” You tried to shout but the words came out heavy and required too much energy to speak.
   “You’ve had enough for tonight,”
   “It’s just water,” Rumlow defended but Tony paid him no mind.
   Your jaw dropped open and you glared at the older man. Who the hell did he think he was? Tony’s stare burned through your skull and despite your irritation, you couldn’t help but wonder why he was so pissed.
   “Are you mad at me?” You drawled, lulling your head to the side.
   “No,” he responded curtly. 
   “Am I being too loud or something?” You pushed. You couldn’t imagine you were any louder than any other drunken bastard at this party.
   “No,”
   Get her out of there or I swear to God I will, his voice hissed into your ear.
   Your eyebrows rose slightly in excitement, “Mmm, Bucky,” you smiled and Tony nodded.
   “’Mmm, Bucky’ is right. Wanna go see him?” Tony offered, sticking out his hand for you to take.
   You fell forward into Rumlow’s chest but shook your head furiously none the less, “For what? So he can tell me I’m horrendous at my-”
   Oh shit. Your job. The job.
   If only your body didn’t feel so heavy and your mind so light.
   You pushed off Rumlow’s chest and glared at Tony, “I can handle myself,” you insisted, a new sort of sober tone making its way through that caused him to do a once-over. “I know what I’m doing,”
   “How many drinks have you had?” Tony challenged and you fell silent.
   Then you felt a tap, and another and a few more.
   “Six,” You said, hoping you’d counted right.
   Tony, don’t you even fucking consider it, Bucky threatened.
   “You could at least change, recuperate and then come back,” Tony offered and you sighed a breath of relief before nodding.
   “Deal,” you agreed, “I’m hot anyway,”
   Tony gave you one last glance before turning around and blending into the crowd on the other end of the room.
   You looked up to Rumlow who’s gaze was still locked on the sea of people, “Don’t you wish you’d taken that shot now?” you tried to jeer, every last word bringing you deeper and deeper.
   “Are they always that intense?” He questioned, not turning his attention to you.
   “They can be over-bearing,” you admitted, hand grabbing the water from earlier and pressing it up against your forehead, “They consider me the baby so they’re always criticizing and suffocating until I just wished they’d disappear.” You took a gulp, “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the family and I like that I have a cause but . . . they don’t let me do anything. It’s exhausting,”
   You let out a long breath and smeared the condensation from the glass onto your chest. Rumlow studied you then, not just your body but your reaction. He was watching how you dropped your shoulders at the confession and how you faced your back to them to block them out. 
   You plastered your torso on the countertop and tried to slow your heartrate down. You couldn’t be the only one here unfathomably hot.
   “Why is it so fucking hot?” You questioned, fanning yourself weakly.
   “There are a lot of people around,” Rumlow offered, “how about we go somewhere else? Tony did say you had to change,”
   You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes and meekly groaned in compliance. “Fine,”
   You lifted yourself away from the counter and gently placed your feet on the floor. You’d touched the ground faster than anticipated. Had the ground always been so close?
   “Don’t worry, I gotcha.” Rumlow threw an arm around your waist and helped you trudge towards the elevator.
   Where the hell are you going? Bucky yelled and the sound of shuffling could be heard from his end.
   We can’t let you leave with Rumlow, Y/N. We’re not even sure you’re acting anymore, Sam stated.
   Rumlow pressed the button when you couldn’t muster the strength to do it yourself. The level that your room was on lit up and the doors began closing. You thought you saw Rumlow wave at someone but the mock smile on his face didn’t make it seem like a warm good-bye.
   Your legs had all but given out by the time the elevator reached your shared floor. 
   “Heavy,” you muttered, letting Rumlow carry your weight fully.
   “I know, Sugar. We’re almost there,” he soothed and you conceded to the fatigue wearing you down.
   Your head hung low and your arm dangled uselessly at your side. The familiar sound of your door sliding open caught your attention but you did nothing. You couldn’t. 
   “How . . . know . . . my room?” You questioned, each word causing you to pull from an empty well of energy.
   “I’ve been here before.” Rumlow tossed you onto the bed and sprawled you out.
   “Oh. Ok.” You tried to turn on to your side but strong hands gripped down onto your ankles.
   Rumlow sighed and slipped the heels off your feet, examining the pair like he wanted to wear them. You extended your feet until you felt every muscle in your leg stretch to its capacity and let out a groan of pleasure at the release. Those shoes hurt so bad.
   “You seem . . . intelligent, Y/N.” Rumlow dropped your shoes onto the floor and slithered to the side of your bed, standing beside it with his hands tucked into his pockets.
   A bead of sweat trickled down your forehead, “Hot . . .” you croaked and he nodded.
   “You’re right. It is getting kind of hot.” He brought a hand up to his neck and ripped off the tie hanging around it.
   Get the fuck out of my way, a growl erupted in your ear.
   We’re going with you, Buck, Steve responded before knocking something over.
   “So, what I have a hard time understanding is. . . why you’re here?” 
   You groaned a weak ‘huh’ but even that didn’t sound right.
   “You’re good at what you do, you finish every mission successfully and yet you’re underappreciated.” He took a seat at the foot of your bed and placed one of your legs into his lap, “Why do you allow them to treat you like that? We wouldn’t,”
   The shuffling in your earpiece halted.
   “We?” 
   He began to massage your calf and brought your knee up to his lips, peppering light kisses on it. “We could use someone with your skillset, babe. We’d take real good care of you,”
   The shuffling started again.
   Rumlow had made his way onto your thigh at this point and you let out an involuntary moan when he skimmed over a delicate part on your inner knee.
   “Ya like that?” he questioned but didn’t wait for a response. He brought a hand up to his temple and grabbed the earpiece. You figured he just hadn’t taken it out from his earlier shift but when he pulled it apart, you understood why he always kept it on him.
   “Flash . . . drive earpiece?” Your weak tone tilted a little. “W-why tell . . .”
   “I figured I’d give you the option to leave since you seem so . . . suffocated. If you said yes tonight then I would remind you tomorrow. If you didn’t,” he chuckled, “well, you wouldn’t remember anyway.” His hands trailed to your mid-thigh and you squeaked. “I’m impressed though, I’ve never given anyone else as much as I’ve given you tonight. The drug usually works so quickly on others, but not you. It’s kind of hot, actually,”
   Sick fuck, Natasha growled through a ragged breath.
   The world around you was slow or maybe it was you that was slow? You couldn’t tell, honestly. But when Rumlow moved as if he could predict your actions before you could make them, you wondered whether you were moving at all.
   “Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon,” Rumlow sighed.
   You shook your head, or thought you did but despite the way your body was live-wired, it remained still against all desire. 
   Fight. Move. 
   You managed to push your legs shut but his hand slithered between and spread them open similar to opening a door, but this required much less force.
   “Kill,” You threatened and the sinister smile that crawled its way onto Rumlow’s face was vile enough to sink your heart into your stomach.
   “Kill is fucking right.” Someone snarled and your door was ripped from its hinges.
   Rumlow’s hand jerked away from your body and Bucky seized his open palm, intertwining their fingers and pushing Rumlow’s so far back that they touched the back of his own hand. The cracks were sickening onto themselves but had you not been so weak you would’ve turned from the sight altogether. You really couldn’t fathom how his fingers were still attached at all.
   “Lay another hand on her and you won’t be able to use it again.” Bucky spit.
   Despite Rumlow’s pain, the sinister smile remained sprawled on his face, “You should’ve heard the noises she made,”
   Bucky’s grip tightened and the bones in his palm broke next, “I did,”
   Natasha flew in right behind Barnes but completely dismissed the two and headed straight for you with a needle in hand. Your eyes shifted from the needle to Nat’s face and back again until she stabbed it into your upper arm. Ouch. 
   “Wha-”
   “Shh,” Natasha hastily hushed, “Keep your strength, you should be back to normal soon,”
   Steve came behind Nat and scooped you up to lead you out of the havoc going on in the room. Nat turned her focus to Bucky and reached over to grab the earpiece from Rumlow. Who knows if his nose will ever heal back normally. You held one finger in the air as Steve stepped over the splintered door.
   “Goddamit, Y/N,” Steve huffed, jogging towards the elevator and pressing the floor that led to the infirmary.
   “We won,” you croaked out, a small smile on your face and Steve shook his head.
   “I’m never going to hear the end of this,” 
   Steve looked you up and down for bruises but couldn’t find any and you promised you weren’t lying to him when you told him Rumlow did not get very far in his ‘advances’ at all. You had to swear the mid-thigh was the worst that it came to. 
   Bruce was the one that took a few blood samples and made sure everything was reversing back to normal. Apparently, as soon as Rumlow took you to the bar Tony handed Banner the shot glass that Rumlow gave you and Banner ran analysis on it. The cure was pretty easy to find.
   After being given strict orders to lie down for the next hour or so, it had been decided that Rumlow was to be turned in considering all the evidence required to make the arrest was in the flashdrive and everyone was to gather together for a ‘family night’. Whatever the hell that meant.
   You were in the middle of debating which movie to pick with Steve when the infirmary doors flew open.
   “Where is she?” Bucky nearly shouted upon seeing Bruce.
   “That’s my cue.” Steve stood up just as Bucky rounded the corner, “If you need anything me and Banner will be right over there,”
   You smiled and thanked him then turned your attention to the super-soldier who just arrived at the foot of your bed.
   He didn’t say anything for a while, just looked at you. No, not really. Not at you but through you. A few painstakingly slow seconds went by that way.
   “You owe me a new door,” you joked, a half-smile on your face.
   “Are you okay?” He asked, finally registering your presence.
   You nodded slowly, “I am,”
   Then a few more seconds.
   Bucky turned his gaze down to his hands, both of them barren and on display for the world to see, before shifting his weight between either foot, “Did he- did he touch you?”
   “Not really. Just really liked my legs for some reason,” your attempt at another quip didn’t reach Bucky. He stared back up at you waiting for an answer, an honest one. You sighed, “The damage is more mental,” you admitted, now you were the one not able to look up, “I didn’t like being in this altered state of mind. It’s invasive and . . . scary. He could’ve done things, much worse things but it never got that far or that bad. It was more realizing that I wasn’t completely conscious or present and having that state of mind be taken advantage of, that mostly frightened me. Ya know?”
   “More than anyone,” he answered immediately.
   You looked back up towards him, finally making eye contact, “But I’m fine now, really. Just a little spooked. Steve wants to do a movie night tonight and I would actually prefer that over being alone.” Your eyes fixated on the way his hands clenched and unclenched on the bar by your feet, “If I’m alone then I’ll get stuck in my head about it. Besides, I consider this a hard victory with a few bumps in the road,” 
   He chuckled, lulling his head a bit, “You’re too stubborn for your own good,”
   You shrugged, “Maybe. How’s Rumlow?”
   Bucky hissed and moved over to the side of the bed where he took a seat, “He’s unconscious. And has a hand that he’ll never be able to use again. But other than that, he’s fine,”
   You chuckled and Bucky watched how the laugh met your eyes. He liked that look on you. It was one of his favorites.
   “Why are you looking at me like that?” You questioned once it fell silent between you two again.
   “You called me Bucky earlier,” he remembered.
   You scoffed, “I call you Bucky all the time,”
   “Not to my face,”
   “Not to your face,” you agreed, a teasing smile dancing on your lips and Bucky had one that mirrored yours. 
   “It was nice. Hearing it, I mean,” he admitted and a wave of warmth made its way to your face.
   “I see your hands are exposed,”
   He looked down as though he weren’t aware that he’d taken off his own gloves, “These bad boys? A friend of mine reminded me that I’m not my past. I’m my present. Why hide my growth?”
   You twiddled your thumbs together, “She sounds smart,”
   Now he scoffed, “Oh, it wasn’t a girl, it was some old buddy of mine.” He quirked up a brow, “Unless the person being a girl would make you jealous because in that case it was most definitely a girl,”
   You fought against the natural tug at the corners of your mouth, “Is she at least pretty?”
   “Stunning,” 
   “Smart?”
   “Genius,”
   “Good at her job?”
   “Amongst the best,”
   “Then consider me jealous, Barnes,”
   Bucky chuckled and you watched how the laugh met his eyes. You liked that look on him. It was one of your favorites.
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btsqualityy · 3 years
Text
Fools Rush In: Chapter 6
Jungkook x Reader
Genre/Rate: 18+, Strangers-to-lovers, age gap!AU (reader is 30, Jungkook is 23), Angst, smut, fluff
Summary: You catch up with your friends and Jungkook shows you that he’s serious about the baby.
Warnings: None to note.
WC: 1.3K
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“So, how are things going with you and Jungkook?” Yumi asked as she settled herself down on the couch next to Jimin in your living room. Since you had decided to stay in Korea for the next few months, Yumi and your other best friend Jimin came to see you and catch up.
“Good, good,” you nodded as you looked over at her. “We’re uh, kind of seeing each other now.”
“Really?” Jimin gasped. “From what you had told me, you were insistent on raising the baby alone.”
“That was if she had to,” Yumi interjected.
“Exactly. And after I told him about the baby and he had a few days to think it over, he realized that he didn’t want me to have to do it alone,” you explained. “If he’s willing to step up, I don’t see why I shouldn’t give him a chance.”
“That’s all well and good but you don’t have to necessarily have to be with him just because he’s stepping up and literally doing what he should,” Jimin cautioned.
“I get that Jimin,” you rolled your eyes. “But I actually like him too. I mean, there is a reason why I slept with him almost four months ago.”
“It wasn’t just the good sex?” Yumi teased.
“No,” you giggled. “He’s just so...sure of himself and what he wants in life. Sure, he’s young and still trying to figure his shit out but he has a much better outlook on things than I did at 23, and I arguably had the world at my fingertips by that age. He’s funny and kind hearted and sweet, not to even mention how attractive he is.”
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about someone that you’ve dated that way,” Yumi pointed out but before you could reply, there was a knock on your front door. Excusing yourself, you got up from the couch and jogged over to your front door to pull it open.
“Hi,” you smiled when you saw Jungkook standing there, two bags in each of his hands. “What are you doing here?”
“Brought you lunch,” he replied, holding up the bags. “You busy?”
“I’m just hanging out with some friends but come in, come in,” you waved your hand and he nodded before stepping inside, watching as you shut the door behind him.
“Come here,” he said and you stepped closer to him, setting your hands on his cheeks as you kissed him firmly. The two of you kissed for a few seconds before you pulled away, taking a second to wipe a little spit from the side of his mouth. 
“Come meet my friends,” you told him and he followed behind you as you led the way back into the living room. 
“Who is this?” Yumi smirked knowingly and you just huffed before you began the introductions. 
“Jungkook, these are my best friends Sato Yumi and Park Jimin,” you said. “Yumi, Jimin, this is Jeon Jungkook.”
“Your baby daddy,” Jimin added.
“Yeah, my baby daddy,” you laughed, making Jungkook do the same. 
“It’s nice to meet you both,” Jungkook smiled, bowing a little towards the both of them.
“Mm, cute and polite,” Yumi hummed in approval. “We love to see it.”
“I didn’t know that you guys were here, otherwise I would’ve brought more food,” Jungkook apologized sheepishly as he gestured to the bags in his hands. 
“Oh, don’t worry about us, we were just leaving,” Jimin replied, motioning to Yumi who nodded before they both stood up. 
“We’ll call you later Y/N,” Yumi whispered.
“Alright, see you guys later,” you said.
“Nice meeting you Jungkook!” Both Yumi and Jimin yelled out as they walked out of the door.
“You too!” Jungkook shouted back and once the door shut behind them, he turned to look at you. “Hungry?”
“Starving,” you grinned. The two of you decided to settle in the living room, and Jungkook emptied the bags that he had brought with him and placed them onto the small table that was placed in front of the couch. 
“Wow, did you buy the entire restaurant out?” You joked as you sat down on the floor. 
“I’m kind of a big eater,” Jungkook chuckled sheepishly. “Truthfully, I could easily eat all of this by myself so I bought extra to make sure that there would be enough for the three of us.”
“Three?” You echoed, breaking apart the chopsticks that had come with the meal. 
“You, me, and the baby,” he smiled shyly. “I know that with pregnancy, sometimes your appetite can change.”
“That’s sweet that you thought of that Jungkook,” you smiled. “It’s true, your appetite can change during pregnancy and I just got mines back after all that morning sickness.”
“I was right on time then huh?”
“Definitely,” you giggled and that was the last thing that was said before you both dug into the food.
“How was your day?” Jungkook asked as he slurped up some noodles and you chuckled before answering him. 
“It was ok,” you shrugged. “I’m still a little sore from the tournament last week so I’ve kind of been laying around and then Yumi and Jimin came to see me. What about you? How was yours?”
“Good, good,” he nodded enthusiastically. “I did the photography for an event this morning and then I decided to get lunch for us.”
“Sounds entertaining,” you chuckled as you took a bite of samgyeopsal. 
“Eh,” he muttered. “Oh, I uh...also talked to my parents today, and I told them about the baby.”
“Really?” You wondered with a raised eyebrow.
“Are you upset?”
“Of course not,” you shook your head instantly. “How did they take it?”
“Considering the situation, pretty well I think,” he explained. “They’re pretty modern given their age though, so I didn’t think they were going to be super upset. They did say that they would like to meet you soon though.”
“Ok, we can do that,” you agreed easily. 
“What about your parents?” He questioned. “Have you told them yet?”
“No,” you huffed. “They’re extremely traditional and I know that they won’t react well to me not being married.”
“Are they married?” He asked.
“They just celebrated their 32nd anniversary in January,” you replied. “My mom is super religious and my dad is a stickler for tradition so if I tell them that their unmarried daughter is having a baby with a man seven years younger, they’ll have a heart attack, so I’ll tell them eventually but just not yet.”
“That’s understandable,” Jungkook murmured and the two of you continued your meal with small talk passing in between. 
Once the two of you were finished and had cleaned up, Jungkook opened up his bag and pulled out a small box.
“I got something today,” he said as he passed the box over to it and you didn’t hesitate to pull the top off of it and inside were the smallest pair of green Nike’s sneakers that you had ever seen in your life. 
“Jungkook, these are so cute!” You gushed as you reached inside and pulled out one of the shoes, examining it. 
“I noticed that you prefer wearing Nike’s when you play and after I got the food, I saw these in a shop window and just had to get them,” Jungkook told you. “They had a few different colors but since we don’t know what you’re having, I thought green was a good unisex color.”
“It is,” you nodded, tears welling up in your eyes as you looked up at him. “They’re amazing.”
“Then why are you crying?” He wondered as he reached out and wiped away the tears that had fallen down your cheeks. 
“Hormones,” you blurted, making him laugh. “Seriously, I love them.”
“I’m glad. I wanted to show you that I’m serious about this,” he muttered.
“I see that, and I appreciate it so much,” you assured him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he smirked, leaning forward and kissing you gently. 
................................................
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introvert--weeb · 3 years
Note
Hello Can we talk about your talent girl you're shinning ❤💅💅
But seriously you're work is awesome
Tell me plz if I can request this:
Takemitchi coming back to the past not understanding what is missing for the future
He is in one of toman meeting waiting for the "talk" but he hear some noise behind the tree 🌳and when he go to see he find micky and his gf(s/o) kissing and being lovey dovey and then he understands that she is the reason of mickeys dark implusion (dk if i wrot it good)
Like her dying in his arms so like takemitchi want to save both of them (I'm sucker for this type of angst 🤧)
Sorry if this is too much 😅you don't have to do it just wanted to cry
Love 💘😻💜💛💚🧡💘😻💜💛💚🧡
Oh my god! I'm so glad you are enjoying my writing and thank you so much! You have just made my whole week with that! ❤️😭❤️
Of course! I am a sucker for angst (if you couldn't tell from my posts) and this is just amazing!!
Thank you so much for requesting and I hope you enjoy this @kimrena-stuff
--
Mikey X f!reader (fluff with angst)
TW: mentions of death, sadness, blood, violence, canon divergence, alternate timeline
--
The future still wasn't perfect in Takemichi's eyes. Sure, most of the people he tried saving survived but there still was no happy ending for any of them. And once again, Hinata had been killed.
It was confusing him. Surely he had made sure that everything was fixed in the past? What was he missing that could have caused another bad future. The blond had even asked Chifuyu about any events that could be coming up that would cause Mikey to turn out the same as he had every other future. Was it Kisaki? But Kisaki had been fired from Toman.
Chifuyu could not offer much information, after all, he did not know the future and Mikey hadn't declared a war on any other gangs since last time Takemichi had gone back. So there was no luck in that department. Maybe they were both overlooking something small that would be massive in the future?
Takemichi was sort of thankful that he had been called up about the Toman meeting that was happening that night. He could find his answer there, he was sure. After all, each meeting he had gone to so far had provided him with an idea of what was going to happen.
He had arrived at the shrine earlier than most other members. The only ones he really knew that had arrived were Draken, Mitsuya and Chifuyu considering that was who he hitched a ride with. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary except Mikey wasn't with Draken as he usually would be.
Curiosity had gotten the better of the young Toman, he had went to ask Draken where the captain was. Draken simply pointed over to a gathering of trees, explaining that Mikey could usually be found there before meetings start. That seemed to only make the boy's curiosity worse, wondering what Mikey could be doing in the cover of the trees.
He couldn't be meeting up with Kisaki still, could he? Is that why the future was not getting any better? Panic filled Takemichi as he approached the trees. If he was talking with Kisaki then that could be his only chance to stop it and create the perfect future he wanted!
It was as he was getting closer that he heard what he thought was two voices talking quietly. Not quiet enough where it could be considered whispering but enough where Takemichi couldn't make out the words being exchanged. He could tell one of them was definitely Mikey but the other could have been anyone. Had Mikey decided to ally himself with someone even more dangerous than Kisaki was proving to be? After all, nobody in Toman had been able to see Mikey in the future so it could be possible.
Trying his best to hide himself from Mikey, Takemichi peeked his head around to find a sight that made his cheeks flush a dark red. Mikey had both hands against a tree trunk with an absolute hottie between them. At first, it seemed a little alarming for the younger blond until he had noticed the soft smile and blush that dusted your features.
It was only when Mikey leaned down to press a kiss to your lips that Takemichi had felt he was overstaying his welcome. Especially since he wasn't really welcome in the first place. He was simply a creepy peeper at that moment. Why did he keep ending up in these types of moments that made him look like a creep?! First it was with Emma and now he was essentially watching his captain make out with his girlfriend.
"I love you, Mikey." Your voice was breathless from that kiss, your eyes sparkling as they stared into your lover's dark ones. It was obvious to anyone that you were both so in love with each other. Hell, you were sneaking off together at any moment you could find just to be all lovey dovey with each other.
"I love you more, Y/N."
Takemichi had caught that small snippet of your conversation as he was trying to silently walk away. He really didn't want to be caught by the Invincible Mikey staring at the loving exchange after all. But it did get him thinking. Had you ever been mentioned in the future? Surely if you were this in love, you would remain by Mikey's side forever?
The Toman meeting started as it usually did. You would be sat on the stairs while your boyfriend would address the issues related to the gang. Everyone knew who you were, you would always be at the meetings after all unless you had to attend to other business. That would explain why Takemichi hadn't seen you. You must have been attending to other things every meeting that the blond went to. All throughout the meeting, Takemichi could only try and recall if you're present in some way in the future. Surely you would still be hanging around with the same people 12 years later.
He would have to contact Naoto in the future as soon as he could. After all, if there was something big that was going to happen then he would want to find out as soon as he could. And so, as soon as the meeting was finished, he made his way to the Tachibana household to find young Naoto.
"So, how did it go? Were you able to change anything?" That was the first thing Naoto asked once Takemichi had woken up. It was the same routine each time. Naoto would ask if he had changed anything, knowing that it wasn't enough since Hinata was still dead. But maybe if something had changed, they were a little bit closer to finding out what was causing this chain of reactions.
Takemichi shook his head and then dived headfirst into his question. He had asked if you were ever mentioned in one way or another. Maybe if you were still alive, something must have happened between you and Mikey which he could prevent from occurring. Just thinking back on how in love you both were with each other, he was beginning to doubt that it was a simple break up.
It had taken the two males a full hour until your name had popped up in their searches. It really didn't help that Takemichi only knew your first name and that you would hang out with Toman. The news article had filled the computer screen, a photo of you smiling in the top corner of the page. It gave off a vibe that didn't match the contents of the article.
You had been stabbed 15 times in the chest and stomach during a gang brawl between Toman and a gang Takemichi hadn't heard of yet. You were rushed to the hospital but had died before the doctors could reach you. It stated that it was a boy named Manjiro Sano that had brought you in.
It all started to make sense now. You had been caught up in the brawl and had sustained injuries that had ended your life. So Mikey had lost himself when you had died in his arms as he tried his best to save you.
Takemichi checked the date on which you had died. 2 days from today. Why wasn't this brawl mentioned at the Toman meeting?! Did Mikey keep it a secret or was it a spontaneous confrontation? Takemichi could only guess it was the second option. Especially since the brawl would take place at Toman's meeting spot at the shrine.
"I need to save Y/N from dying. That is what we were missing! If she survives, Mikey won't lose another piece of himself." And with that, the handshake that activated the time leaping had taken place.
Takemichi had explained his plan to Chifuyu. Explained how there would be a brawl the next day at the shrine and how that is possibly the trigger for the bad futures. After all, Mikey might stay sane with you by his side. Chifuyu couldn't believe what he was hearing. A gang would have the balls to enter the meeting place of Toman just to start a fight? They must either hold a huge grudge against them or were just plain insane. No gang was to ever enter another gang's meeting spot as it was seen as sacred.
The blond had vowed that he would do anything he could to protect you from harm and ultimately save Mikey from his dark future. Even if he had to glue himself to your side, he would make sure nothing happened to you. He would make up for the time he had failed to save Baji.
You and Mikey continued with your routine. Enter the tree clearing and spend some quality time together. You both exchanged kisses, splitting the dorayaki you would keep on you for your boyfriend, and joking around. Everything a couple in love should do.
The day of the brawl had arrived and so had the rival gang. It was in the middle of Mikey addressing his gang that the opponent's had arrived. The shock was quickly erased as the fighting began. Mikey had made sure you stayed close behind him so he could keep you safe, even though you could fight. Maybe not as well as most of the Toman members but you were capable of keeping yourself safe.
Takemichi scanned the entire shrine area in search of you. Relief had briefly enveloped the middle schooler. After all, if Mikey was with you, nobody could touch you. Or that's what everyone had thought. You had been separated from Mikey as soon as the gang members discovered you were cared for deeply by him. They had thought that if they got you, they could win the fight.
It was if the world was entering slow motion. Takemichi tried to push his way to where you were being dragged, the determination to save everyone being his main driving force. Mikey had yet to notice you were no longer behind him, too focused on taking out the leader and winning the brawl so he could take you home where you would be safe. However, that plan was quickly becoming less likely.
"Shit! Move out of my way!" Takemichi had panic pumping throughout his veins. If he couldn't get to you in time, there was no second chance. It was times like this that made him realise just how human he was. He was one boy, not a God. He could only do so much. But he was sure as hell gonna try and save you.
"Y/N!" Takemichi's voice carried across the entirety of the battlefield. So much so that everyone had frozen, especially Mikey. He turned his gaze to behind him where he thought you were only to find you were missing. Frantic, his dark eyes scanned the area until they rested on you being held against your will. The boy who held you had his arm across your neck, squeezing so you couldn't call out to your boyfriend. However, it was the knife that he pointed to your chest that had Mikey scared.
Takemichi was the only person who didn't freeze, pushing his way past the bodies that stood like statues. He could make it! He could save everyone with this one action! He was convinced that this was why Mikey had given into his dark impulses and why no-one could get their happily ever afters.
He was too late. The knife had pierced through your chest, narrowly missing any vital organs. This had seemed to spur the younger blond to increase his speed, trying to keep in mind that you could survive if he kept the stabs to a minimum. After all, the news article had explained how you had been stabbed 15 times. One was fixable. One he could deal with.
Mikey couldn't seem to move. His love had been stabbed. For no other reason than they were there and sticking by him. This wasn't fair. You had nothing to do with what the problem was and you shouldn't be paying the price for it either.
It felt like an eternity for Takemichi to reach where you were. His legs were screaming at him to stop and his heart was beating a million miles a minute. In the time it took him to get to you, you had sustained another two stabs in your stomach and chest. The person doing it was nothing short of a monster. He didn't care that you were innocent or that you were a girl. He just continued his mission.
The sound of skin to skin contact echoed, a sickening crack following along. Takemichi had landed the hardest punch he could muster against the side profile of the monster. The crack was the jaw breaking underneath the force. You were released as the perpetrator stumbled backwards, falling as he lost consciousness. Takemichi had made it but he wasn't confident that it was in time. He couldn't help but watch as you smiled and fell sideways. Fueled simply by the adrenaline, he had carefully picked you up in his arms before starting his journey to the hospital.
Draken had been the one to snap Mikey out of his daze, telling him to get his bike. There was no way that Takemichi would get there in time if he was simply thinking of running. And so that's what Mikey did. He fired up his precious bike, ordering the young blond to climb onto the back before speeding his way to the closest medical facility.
Due to all of this, you had survived. Takemichi had succeeded in saving you and thus saving Mikey. There was a possibility that the future would be good this time.
Once he had heard you were alive and doing well, Mikey had finally let himself react. Tears fell one after the other down his cheeks and relief had lifted his heart. He wouldn't lose you. You were alive because of Takemitchy. That is something Mikey couldn't thank the younger blond enough for. He had saved your life when Mikey could do nothing but watch.
Everyone expressed their gratitude for Takemichi. After all, they couldn't imagine what Mikey would turn out like if he had lost you during that fight. Takemichi had an idea but wasn't about to spill what the future he knew was like. Speaking of which, he did wonder how this had affected his future. Would everyone finally have their happy endings? He sure did hope so.
As soon as Naoto had shook his hand, Takemichi had found himself sitting at a table with a can of beer in his hand. Confused on what was going on, he glanced around at his surroundings. He was currently in a home that looked nothing like his apartment. Photos of a couple he vaguely recognised littered the walls, there was the scent of takeout wafting in the air, and the noise was loud yet joyful.
A few days later, Takemichi decided to head back to where he belonged. 12 years in the future. You had been discharged from the hospital and probably on a date with Mikey as he approached the Tachibana residence. Thinking about it, Mikey had seemed to brighten up more ever since you had been allowed out of the hospital. Takemichi laughed as he recalled Mikey buried under a large bouquet of your favourite flowers and a giant plushie of your favourite animal on that day. You had simply laughed before peppering the Toman leader's face in kisses. You had also planted a peck on the younger boy's cheek as a sign of how grateful you were to him. After all, if Takemichi hadn't done any of that, you wouldn't be able to spend anymore time with Mikey. You owed him your life.
That's when Takemichi realised he had done it. Hinata was chatting happily with Yuzuha and Hakkai about their experiences in Europe; Mitsuya, Smiley and Angry were laughing about some inside joke no-one knew about; Pah-chin and Peh-yan were discussing business relating to the real estate agency; Kazutora and Inui were drinking in the corner, simply observing the festivities; and Draken was chatting away happily to Mikey, his arm around Emma's waist as she tried to soothe their baby. Takemichi had saved them all. They were all OK. Most of all, Hinata was alive.
"Anyone needing any refills?" your voice trailed in from where you stood in the doorway connecting the living room and kitchen. You looked almost the same except for a few features. Takemichi knew at that moment that this was the perfect future for everyone, especially when Hinata had come over and kissed his cheek. The discussion around the room had suddenly become one as everyone spoke about the upcoming weddings between you and Mikey as well as the one between Takemichi and Hinata. For the first time in a long time, Takemichi could let go of the weight he had carried around and enjoy his life with his friends and his fiancé.
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writeformesinpie · 3 years
Text
Frills and Lace
Sub!Felix x Fem!Reader
Word Count - 3k
Genre - Smut
Summary -
With a last minute emergency and some sick co-workers, you end up alone at the café and in desperate need of a stand-in. Running out of options with the clock ticking, you call the only person you can depend on and just hope he’s willing to set aside his dignity to help you out. He’ll look so pretty in a maid outfit, after all.
Warnings -
Maid café, crossdressing, swearing, sub idol
A/N -
This is a request for the 500 follower event.
KPOP Masterlist
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“What are you going to do?”
She gives you a fleeting look before flinging open her locker, the loud clang of the door hitting the water cooler making you jump as she shoves her jacket into the oversized brown bag.
“Well you’ve kinda screwed me over a little here, ya know?”
“That wasn’t my intention. How was I to know half the staff would call out sick?” She fumbles around the front pocket of the overstuffed bag before pulling out her keys, the jingle of her numerous keyrings adding to her look of triumph. The glee quickly falls from her face, replaced instead with a solemn grimace. “I wouldn’t leave unless I absolutely had to, you know that.”
“I know, I know,” you say, throwing your hands up in mock surrender.
“Maybe you can ask your cute friend to step in?”
“My cute friend?”
“You know, the one with the freckles,” she says with a wink before stepping back as you flick out a playful hand towards her.
“Stop. Don’t even kid,” you say, shocked humour dripping from your lips as she shrugs and tells you it would work. “Go on, then. Get out of here before I stoop to groveling.”
“Ha! I would love to see that.” She grins before turning and running to the door. Before she steps through she blows you a kiss. “You can do it!”
“Sure,” you mumble, kicking the floor with a sigh. “This blows.”
It usually wasn’t a big deal if one of your co-workers had to leave suddenly (in fact it was a welcomed surprise - more money for the girls left at work) but not today. Today you have twenty minutes to get the place ready to open for the afternoon shift, all with one cook and one maid: you. Your co-workers crazy idea is sounding more and more sane as you let it play in the corner of your mind.
Resisting the urge to sit down and cry, wasting precious time you don’t have, you instead send a text to your best friend and hope he arrives in time to help. It’s a long shot. He will definitely say no once he figures out what you have planned, but you need to try. Not waiting to see if he can come, you rush around the café making sure all the tables are set. Most of them are. Thank God for small favours. After setting up the last couple you run back to the chef on duty to work over a game plan for the night before returning to the back to finish getting dressed.
As you pull the ridiculous material over your head, you hear a soft knocking on the door that leads out to the alley behind the store. Creeping up, you ask who it is and let out a sigh of relief when you hear his voice.
“You came!”
“Of course, you said it was life or death,” he says, his deep voice making you question your previous thoughts. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re pretty cute, you know? I really think this will work.” Twirling your hair between your fingers, you bite your bottom lip as you continue, “Now hear me out first.”
“Oh no, what are you planning? I know that look. I knew I shouldn’t have come here.” He shakes his head backing up towards the door. He’s trying to escape!
“Wait!” Lunging in front of him, you pin him against the doorframe before he can open it, your arms jutting out on either side of him to keep him from moving. “I said here me out. At least give me a chance.”
“Anytime you have that look it never ends well for me.”
“This time it involves money. It involves you getting paid money. Probably a lot since it’s just the two of us.” When his eyes narrow, you say, “I need help and I didn’t know who else to ask.”
“What are you trying to say here? What are you up to now?” His deep voice pitches up into a groan as he steps away from the door. “What do I need to do?”
Explaining the situation you ignore his snorts of disbelief. Pleading with him to help, your eyes as round and glossy as you can manage, your hands clasp together in front of you. “Like I said, there’s money to be made. I wouldn't be surprised if you made more than me!”
“This is ridiculous. I don’t have anything to wear.”
“We have some leftover outfits from old co-workers that should fit.” Running to the locker with supplies for wardrobe emergencies, you rifle through the materials before finding what you need and holding them up for Felix to see. The dress is pink and white, with several layers of material fluffing out the skirt hem, as well as a sweetheart neckline. You also grabbed some white thigh high socks, black flats and a curly blonde wig.
“Are you freaking kidding me right now?” His mouth is agape as he shakes his head back and forth. “Like bloody hell you’re getting me into one of your maid outfits. Are you crazy?”
“It’s a maid café, Felix, don’t be like that,” you whine as he heads back towards the door. “How can I get you to do this? I really need your help.”
“There is nothing on this earth that can get me into that outfit.”
“Really?” His hand is on the knob as you sneak up behind him, your hands circling his chest as you lean into his ear and whisper, “If you do me this small favour, I’ll let you fuck me. I’ll even let you do it while I’m in the maid uniform.”
He spins around, his cheeks and ears flooding with colour, searching your face for a few moments before looking down at the dress. “There’s no way anyone is going to fall for this.”
“Yeah, you will have to be the strong, quiet type. It can be your quirk. No way to hide that voice.”
“I can go pretty high, thank you very much,” he says, his chin jutting out.
“I bet. I just figured you would like to spend as little time with the customers as possible.” He frowns before nodding. “Great, let's get you dressed and ready. We only have a few minutes before we open.”
It takes a little longer than you thought, getting Felix into the thigh highs is an ordeal, and he had balked at the suggestion of makeup but he let you apply it anyway. He blends into the outfit better than you thought he would. If you didn’t know any better you would assume he’s just one of the girls.
“Wow,” you say, rubbing your thumb across his freckles while studying his form in the maid outfit. “You look really pretty.”
He looks away and mumbles under his breath, “We better get started.”
There are five people waiting at the entrance when you unlock the door, all men. One of them sputters ‘about time’ while the other four provide sheepish grins as they glide past you into the small room.
“Sorry for the wait, handsome. We are short on staff today,” you say in your practiced youthful inflection, ushering the men to different seats in the same section. “I hope you’ll be understanding and bear with me.”
“Oh, of course,” the grumpy one says, fiddling with the white swan napkin placed on his plate before motioning around the room. “We get it right, lads? Take your time.”
“You’re so sweet!” Giggling, you cover your mouth with your polished fingertips while looking back towards the wooden swinging doors that lead to the kitchen where you left Felix. Motioning for him to come out, you continue, “We also have a new maid today. I hope you’ll smother them in kindness as well.”
They voice their agreement, eyes fluttering back and forth from your face to the doors in expectant curiosity. You can see Felix on the other side peeking in through the crack and you gesture for him to come in once more, this time with a little more vigor. He doesn’t move, just watching you with a wide-eyed look of terror. Holding in your frustration, you wink, touching your lips while motioning for him to come out again. This time he does. He steps out, gawky and timid.
“Isn’t she cute?” Felix’s head jerks up, his eyes narrowing, which you ignore. If he didn’t want you to tease him he should have hurried up. Pulling him close by his waist, you give the men a wide grin. “It’s her first day.”
They start to talk over each other asking questions until you hold up a hand. “She doesn’t speak very often, I’m afraid. She is so very, very shy.”
Felix curtsies before handing each of them a menu all while looking down at the ground, his ears turning an even darker shade of pink, the layers of his maid outfit rustling as he does so. One of the patron's fingers caresses Felix’s and he jumps back.
“She’s quite skittish,” he says looking over at the other men who all nod. “I already know what I want.”
Pushing Felix over to the customer, he shuffles closer before pulling out the pen and paper you gave him from the hidden pocket in the dress. It's the only one and it holds what’s important on hand. You have your phone, the plum lipstick of the day and the key to your locker stashed in yours. No one can see what you have due to all the ruffles and lace that flutter out in front of it.
“I want a raspberry scone with green tea and-" he motions for Felix to come closer and when he does, the customers grin widens, "-I would love it if you would feed it to me directly. Sitting on my lap.”
Pinching your lips together, you try to hold in the snicker bubbling up in your throat at Felix’s ludicrous face. His mouth is supernaturally ajar and his eyes bulge as he backs up, step by step, until he bumps into you. He turns, hands raised in defense before realizing it’s you and letting his arms fall placidly by his sides.
“That’s a wonderful choice. What would everyone else like?”
After collecting the other orders, Felix follows you to the host stand by the front of the café. “What the hell was that about?”
“Hmm?” You unlock the computer screen and place the orders (two green teas, a raspberry scone, a blueberry muffin, 3 coffees and three burgers) into the system as Felix stomps his foot, demanding you pay the love-starved boy attention. “What was what?”
“Feeding that old geezer?!”
“Keep your voice down,” you whisper, the coarseness of your voice matching the painful nudge you give him before looking over at the tables with a wide smile. “This is my job, and I would prefer if you don’t fuck it up.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispers back, his voice taut as he chews on his bottom lip. “I just don’t remember sitting on some old fart's lap being a part of the deal.”
“You don’t?” Smiling, you edge closer to him, your hand gliding up his leg before disappearing under the waves of his dress. As your fingers brush over the polyester clinging to his thighs, you lean into his neck and whisper, “You look so cute right now, Yongbok. I can’t stop thinking about you. And all the things I want you to do to me.”
He pushes your hand away, turning to look out the window. You know he hates it when you use that name, but he won’t say anything about it now. Not while he’s trying to tame the beast in the frilly safety pants you had to wrestle him into.
“Should we go make the drinks?”
“Give me a second,” he hisses, eyes darting from the ceiling to the floor. “Go on without me. I’ll be right there.”
“I’ll go get started.”
It only takes a few minutes to get all the drinks out before the food is ready to go. The grumpy customer is the only one who ordered the feeding experience. It’s an extra fee and not so outrageous (even though Felix calls it a rip off) that many customers order that particular service, while some people just like to watch.
Felix looks to you, his eyes pleading and you give him a thumbs up. “You’re going to be her first. I hope you’re excited! You only get a first once, after all.”
The man's chest swells a little as the others look back and forth like vultures eyeing potential meat. Felix gives you one last beseeching glance before he shuffles over to the customer, his shoulders slumped, biting the corners of his lips. What a nasty but adorable habit. When Felix sits on the man's knee, you clap. Vehemently ignoring his quick glare, you instead gesture towards the scone.
As Felix starts to feed the customer, the bubblegum pink spreads across his face and neck, starting to cover his freckles. Almost completely, but not quite. You refill the drinks and seat a few more customers. Making small talk about the new girl, you are with the new guests when you hear it.
“Oi!”
It’s Felix. His booming voice bounces off the walls. The room is frozen as everyone refuses to move. It shouldn’t be possible but as each person turns to look at Felix, his rosy cheeks deepen in hue. His dainty hands are balled up beside him.
“Don’t be shy darling, it’s just a little pinch,” the grumpy customer says, pressing his index finger and thumb together a few times.
“I’ll give you a pinch,” Felix says, raising his clenched fist into the air.
“Hey now,” you say, nudging Felix back. “Everything okay here?”
“Just teaching this guy how to treat a lady.”
“I like her more now,” one of the original customers says.
“This one’s feisty. I want them to serve me,” one of the new ones adds.
“Calm down,” you whisper under your breath before turning to smile at the customers. “Isn’t she great?”
After a full shift, the final customer of the night saunters out of the café with heart eyes for Felix. Chuckling, you lock the door. He made more than you did. Everyone wanted a piece of him. A customer told you how refreshing it was to have a strong maid in the mix while a few of them asked when his next shift was. One even ordered the most expensive item (a special platter in a private room) which he refused. It only made the customers want him more.
You’re pretty certain most of them know he’s a guy, but they still wanted a piece. Not that you can blame them. In a dress that barely covers his ass, you caught yourself more than once glancing his way. He’s a showstopper.
The chef pops his head in through the door from the kitchen to let you know he’s leaving. You wave goodbye and head over to the table that had seated the last customer, collect the mug and spoon before placing them in the dishwasher station to be dealt with in the morning. The poor chef had to take on double duty tonight and it was a busy one.
Felix walks over with a huge grin on his face. “We made it!”
“That we did,” you say under your breath as you finish setting the table.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“Huh?” You look up at his apprehensive face. He shifts back and forth, a slight pout on his lips and it hits you. He’s waiting to be praised. He needs validation. A smile spreads across your lips as you slither up to him. Teasing, you say, “How about you take me back to that private room I’ve been hearing about all night. I hear it’s quite expensive, but maybe we can figure out some other form of payment?”
Felix stares at you for a moment before the words sink in and his rosy cheeks are back in full force. He rubs his elbow, hugging his body with his arms. “I don’t know where it is.”
“Is that the only reason you said no to him?”
“What? No! Of course not,” he sputters out as you laugh, a petite little crease starting to form between his eyebrows.
“Come on.” Grabbing his hand, you lead him to the side of the store just past the bathrooms where the three back rooms reside. They’re meant to be for private parties but every now and then someone with a lot of money to blow will order one for themselves. Contrary to what Felix seems to think, they're not for anything nefarious. Some of the guests might get a little more handsy but nothing crazy happens, at least not since you started working here.
Felix wobbles inside the room, watching as you close the door and flip the switch to 'one hour'. “I own you for the next hour, little maid. Do you have any hard no’s?”
“Hard no’s?”
“Just relax,” you say, pushing him down against the yielding smooth fabric of the couch, his legs dangling over the side. You run your hands over the lace covering his chest before letting your fingers slide under the skirt of the dress. His breath hitches as you grind against his hips, looking to the side as he nibbles on his lips. You want his eyes on you. You want him to beg.
Your fingers glide across his soft skin, finding his nipples and pulling on them just hard enough to elicit a moan from Felix, he arches his back up towards you. There’s a cute little freckle on his neck. You lean down to bite it and he shifts under you, his cock growing harder as you continue to explore his body. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this content! If you did, please consider liking, commenting, reblogging and/or following, and check out my masterlist for similar content. Have a great day!
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cazimagines · 3 years
Text
Perfectly Exasperating - Chapter 3
Synopsis: While you have been unknowingly kidnapped Zemo is determined to make the time he spends with you the best that he can
Word count: 5.4k
Author’s note: Hey all! This is sorta a one-month celebration of my account and for all the love you guys have shown this series and my other series 'A Freudian Slip' I can't thank you enough! My editing program decided to screw me over though so if you can see a difference grammatically in the first half and the second half that's why
Masterlist
(Please check out my master list to see what I will be writing next and if requests are open or closed)
Cross-posted to ao3 under the same username
Part 1 Part 2 Part 4
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Your eyes slowly flutter open as the warmth from the sun shining through the curtains touching your skin waking you up. Yawning and stretching, feeling the soft duvet move on top of you, you sighed in content, closing your eyes again as you embraced the happiness which had been foreign to you for so long. You reach out to seize the end of the duvet and gradually slide out of the bed; you feel the slight chill of the morning breeze brush against your exposed legs. Crossing over to the wardrobe your hand reaches out to flick through the many dresses, shirts, trousers that hung in there, all belonging to shops such as Gucci, Prada, Valentino. There were clothes appropriate for any event, but today you choose comfortably as you pull out a maroon knitted sweater and dark blue jeans. Though appearing to be rather cheap clothes, you knew Zemo would never have spent less than $100 on them.
When Zemo said he would take care of you, he meant it in every aspect. It was a culture shock going from the relatively poor life you lived, surviving off the small amount of money they paid you for being an Avenger to being treated like royalty by Zemo. Not that you were complaining. It was a guilty pleasure of yours enjoying this luxury, a part of you hoping it would never end. If you had told yourself just a few weeks ago, you would have enjoyed living with Zemo you would have laughed in your face but that man had certainly turned on the charm and you couldn’t help but feel the slightest big thankful for him for everything he has done for you.
You finally leave the confines of your room, something you had only been allowed to do a few times until today. You convinced Zemo yesterday that you weren’t concussed from when John had hit you with the shield and that you would be fine getting up and walking around. He was still hesitant but knew he couldn’t keep you confined in your bed forever.
You close your eyes as you inhale the sweet smell of cooking pancakes, making your stomach grumble greedily. Following the scent, you work your way down through the interior design living room into the lavish kitchen where Zemo currently had his back turned to you as he attempted to flip the pancake he had in the frying pan. His purple turtleneck sleeves were pulled up, exposing his forearms as they tensed, trying to get the timing right to flip the pancake. He does so with perfect accuracy, the golden brownness of the pancake soaring up into the air and landing back down in the frying pan, sizzling.
Zemo giggles to himself, celebrating his minor achievement as he waves the frying pan, his body swaying along slightly with it.
“That smells heavenly,”
Zemo whips around at hearing your voice pierce the air. “Ah y/n! Please, take a seat while I make breakfast,”
His eyes follow you as you take a seat down at the table he had prepared for this morning, then focus back on the breakfast at hand. You pour out some orange juice Zemo had left on the table, then your gaze flickers back to him as he finishes cooking. He stacks the pancakes onto two plates and grabs some sugar, maple syrup, and lemons out of the shelves, giving you a choice of toppings.
You scoff as he turns around, seeing on the apron he had tied around himself the words ‘kiss the chef’ on it.
“Really?” you ask, raising the glass to your lips as you watch him glance down to his apron and then back up to you offended.
“You don’t like?”
“It’s embarrassing to look at!” you exclaim as he places the plates down on the table and sits down opposite you.
Zemo’s eyebrows twitch as he scoffs back at you, “I think it suits me, plus a kiss is expected after I worked so hard on breakfast” he says, tapping his cheek with his finger.
You raise an eyebrow, letting a breath out as you laugh, “Yeah, in your dreams,”
You two settle into a comfortable silence as you readily eat the breakfast he made. The pancakes were soft but delicious, sickeningly sweet but you have always had a sweet tooth and so it seems, does Zemo.
“I thought you would have one of your staff make breakfast, you never struck me as the person to do something yourself when you can make others do it,” you say breaking the silence as you finish the last of your pancakes.
Zemo glances up to you, tilting his head, “Why do you think that? Because I grew up rich?”
You nod, not attempting to make yourself sound nicer, “Yes. It’s common knowledge the rich are always spoilt”
His lips twitch up into a smile at your bluntness. He sighs, leaning back in his chair, crossing his legs as he addresses you.
“You’re right. Even though Sokovia was a rather small country, I grew up with more riches than most people could dream of. But at least I acknowledge my privilege. That counts for something, doesn’t it?”
“Depending on what you use your privilege for. Blowing up the UN isn’t exactly putting it to good use now stop avoiding my original question,”
Zemo bites the inside of his mouth as you see through his attempts at trying to dodge the question. His admiration for you however outweighed any annoyance he might have felt at being called out for it. Leaning forward again to rest his arms on the table he says,
“It’s only me, you and my Butler who occasionally comes in. After I was arrested, there was no work for my staff so they all left and I can’t exactly hire anyone else,”
You nod, satisfied, then dab the napkin that Zemo has set out beside you, on your lips to get rid of any leftover sugar. You place your hands on the table and push yourself up from it.
“Well, thank you for breakfast, and thank you for looking after me this last week… that was nice of you, but I better be going. Do you know where my phone is?”
Zemo’s eyes furrow and he immediately stands up as you walk away from the table. He rushes past you, stepping in front of you to stop you from walking.
“You can’t leave y/n,”
Your head jilts back in confusion, “Why not?”
“We ruined Karli’s plans, so she is trying to find us. That’s why Sam and James are out hiding and why we must remain here,”
“I can handle Karli,” you tell Zemo, trying to step past him, but his hand reaches out and grasps your arm firmly.
“Not a super-soldier y/n. It’s too dangerous, especially after your recovery. James and Sam will reach out to me once it is clear to leave, but for now, we stay.”
You huff in frustration, shaking Zemo’s hand off your arm as you cross them. “Well, at least get me a phone so I can keep in contact with them too,”
“I’m afraid I can’t get you a phone currently, but you are welcomed to use mine. Alas, James and Sam have my number but I don’t have theirs’s so unless you remember their numbers we have to wait till they message first to reach out to them,”
You let out a melodramatic sigh, rolling your head looking to the side of the room then back to Zemo.
“So what the hell am I to do to keep occupied?”
Zemo tilts his head, his eyes flicker to the side in thought as he opens his mouth wordlessly and his eyes move back to yours, his eyebrows raising as he frowns thinking over the idea that has just entered his head.
-
With his fingers, Zemo, gazing at you eagerly, beckoned you down the corridor, towards a giant door that was at the end.
“I’m not a dog Zemo” you complain as you follow him
“Have you ever heard of dramatic effect?”
Zemo had taken off his apron and replaced it with that coat he loved to wear so much. You firmly believed it gave him a power complex. He strutted to the end of the hallway and placed his hands on the door. His face turns to you smirking, enjoying this dramatic pause as you roll your eyes at him. He pushes the door open and stands to the side, sweeping his arm across the space to let you in.
You walk past him and your eyes widen in amazement as you walk into the most magnificent library you had ever seen. The room itself stretched out almost further than you could see, seeming to go on and on. The shelves looked like they reached up to the sky, each one stacked with thousands of beautiful hardback books. The design of it looked like you had just stepped into heaven, with white and gold being the main colour scheme. On the ceiling was a painted sky with the gods on, looking down at you. On the pillars separating the shelves were little cherubs, their bows positioned to pierce your heart. Everything about this library was beautiful. It felt like a library that should belong to a museum not kept in this private mansion.
“You see why the dramatic effect was necessary?” Zemo says stepping up beside you, looking out at the shelves before you.
“Zemo this is… this is beautiful,”
His eyes flicker to you then back to the library, a smile appearing on his lips, “Yes, I suppose it is. When I was younger, I had always taken things like this for granted, but after my time in prison I believe it’s made me more humble,”
You walk over to the nearest bookshelf, letting your fingers brush over the colourful hardbacks. You pull one book out, stroking the golden platted side. “You must have every practically every book in existence here”
“I have more books than I could ever get round to reading. You can find anything you want to read here,”
After ten minutes you had gathered a rather sizable book pile you were determined to read, full of fictional and non-fictional books, some of your favorites and some you had never read before.
Zemo chuckled as you tried to hold all of them in your grasp. As you picked one up, the book on the very top of your pile slipped and fell to the floor. Panic surged in you, worried you would damage something so expensive, but Zemo’s hand appears and catches it before it could hit the ground.
Straightening up, he gave you an amused smile, “Maybe you should let me help carry them”
Accepting his help, he takes half the book pile off you and guides you over to a place deep in the library where you two could read. There were two light green armchairs facing each other, with a fireplace just behind them. To the side of the chairs were small tables which contained bookmarks, a goblet, and an ashtray, and to the side of one chair was a globe which could be opened, and inside it held a decanter full of whiskey.
Zemo places the books in his arms on the table then walks over to one shelf, browsing till he finally finds the book he was looking for. He returns to find you getting comfortable in your chair, opening the first book.
“Whisky?” he asks, opening up the globe beside him.
A few days ago you would have said ‘no, no way,’ but today you smile and nod your head, reaching out with the glass beside you to gracefully accept the drink.
-
The next couple of days were spent similarly with you and Zemo spending much of your time reading in the library together. Occasionally you two would even read to each other as he had first done with you when you had woken up here. Though you would never admit it to him, his smokey voice made you very comfortable. If he tried, he could lull you to sleep with that accent of his.
You couldn’t help but try to separate the Zemo you know now as the one you used to hate. Yes, he had torn apart your family, but he had all the reason for what happened to Sokovia, what happened to his family. Plus, this Zemo seemed to try hard to make it up to you. Almost too hard. He was trying everything to keep you entertained while you were stuck here, make your life as comfortable as he could. It was nice.
You strolled into the kitchen hearing the quiet buzz of the radio playing the latest top hits and the sound of someone humming along to the music. In there you find Zemo by the counter, fixated on the bowl he held in his arm and the spoon in his hand as he delicately tries to put the mixture into the cupcake trays before him. You had offered to make food, feeling like he always did too much for you but every day he insisted he would, even on days where it Butler would come around.
“Need help?” you ask, walking over to stand beside him.
He glances at you, then back to the tray he has laid out before him. “I’ve got a handle on this,” he replies just as he spills some mixtures onto the counter, making him swear under his breath.
“Uh-huh, sure,” you say, looking down at the spilled mixture. You turn to face him, letting out a chuff as you place a hand on his arm, “Zemo stop being so prideful and let me help”
As soon as your hand comes in contact with his arm, he freezes. He glances down at the ground, swallowing then his eyes flicker to yours and he smiles gently, his usual arrogance disappearing. “Okay,”
You grab a spoon from the draw and help Zemo scrap off what he puts into his spoon into the cake tray with accuracy. You two stand together, your shoulders brushing up against each other till you finish and put it into the oven.
“We have 30 minutes until we need to get them out. Why don’t you read for a bit while I clean up,”
“I can help clean up,” You tell him already going over to the sink to turn the water on, “You’re not my servant Zemo,”
“Helmut” he suddenly says
You turn back to look at him, confused at the seriousness of his face, “Please y/n, call me Helmut,”
Your mouth moves wordlessly for a moment, then you say, “Helmut,” trying the name out on your tongue. You were so used to calling him Zemo, you had forgotten that that wasn’t his first name.
“Thank you” he whispers, glancing away from you bashfully.
He takes a towel off the side of the rail and dries up everything you washed as you two settled into a peculiar silence.
Attempting to liven the atmosphere again, you put a cup just at the right angle of the running tap that the water splashed into Zemo’s coat. He steps back shocked, glancing down at his coat then back to you. He lets out a laugh, his mouth open in surprise that you would do that. “Oh, if that is how it is”
Zemo quickly grabs a mug, running it under the following water. Realizing what he was going to do you let out a squeal and rush for the door but you don’t get far enough till you feel the water hit your back, soaking your t-shirt.
“Helmut!” you gasp as he chuckles at you. You run forward to grab the nearest thing in front of you to chuck it at him, a piece of bread in this case but he ducks as it flies over him. He fills the cup up again and runs towards you but you get to the table and hide on the other side till you were both poised opposite each other waiting for one of you to make the first move.
“This isn’t fair!” you whine, feeling the coldness of your t-shirt cling to your back. “Who said anything about fairness!” Zemo shouted back, grinning at you.
Eventually, you two called a truce when the oven chimes letting you two know the cupcakes were finished baking. After that day, Zemo always asked if you wanted to help him make meals.
-
“Is the popcorn ready?” you shout as you jump up from the floor where you were placing the DVD into the DVD player.
“Almost done” Zemo calls out.
While waiting, you settle yourself down on the middle of the red sofa, twisting your back to get that perfect spot as you stared up at the giant screen in front of you.
Zemo emerges from the kitchen holding the popcorn and places the bowl onto the table in front of you. He settles down beside you, instantly positioning his arms on the top of the sofa, resting behind your head.
He leans forward to pick up some of the popcorn, tossing it in his mouth as he asks you what you have chosen to watch tonight.
“Beauty and the Beast,” you say excitingly and Zemo coughs, leaning forward as he accidentally inhaled the popcorn in his mouth.
He wipes the tear from his eye as he leans back and you give him a confused look, “Do you not like the film?”
“No-no, it’s not that. W-why do you want to watch the film?”
“It’s my favorite Disney film,”
He nods his head slightly looking down at the popcorn, “I see…” he then glances back to you, looking you in the eyes, “Why is it your favorite Disney film?”
You lean back sighing as you think the movie over, “Well, I’ve loved it since I was a kid. I always wanted to be like Bell and I found the beast so sweet and gentle”
“Even though he imprisoned her?”
“He let her go in the end, and she came back to him”
Zemo opened his mouth wanting to say more, but you sushed him as the movie started, wanting to concentrate only on it.
Zemo turned down the lights to make the experience feel as cinematic as he could of you. Grabbing the bowel he offered you some of the popcorn and you smiled at him in thanks. He tried to enjoy the movie, but his eyes kept wandering back to you, watching your expressions as you watched the movie. His heart skipped a beat every time you laughed at it when that gorgeous smile would grace your face, even in the sad moments where it looked like you were about to cry. He loved seeing how you reacted to everything. There were so many things he had taken for granted, and it felt like he was discovering them all over again with you. It fascinated him to find out the beauty and the beast was your favorite film. It was almost ironic given your current situation, one of which you remained painfully unaware of. He knew he couldn’t keep you in the dark forever. Sam and James were bound to discover where you two were eventually, which is why he wanted to enjoy every moment he had with you to the fullest before it was over.
As the movie went on, Zemo could feel your body moving closer and closer to him. The heat that radiated from your body made him want to wrap his arms around you, but he didn’t know if that would go too far. Roughly by the end of the movie, your head rested against his chest, moving slightly up and down as he breathed. He could tell by your shallow breathing you had entered the realm of dreams.
Looking down at you, he couldn’t help but admire how peaceful you looked. When on the mission with Sam and James you had always appeared tense, prepared to fight your way out of a situation as soon as possible, but at this moment you were relaxed and it made his heart flutter. He could look at you forever like this and never tire of it.
He had found himself in the past comparing you to his wife. He felt conflicted feeling this way about another woman, but how he felt about you differed from how he felt about his wife. It was new, exciting, addicting. Slowly raising his hand, he brushes a piece of hair that had fallen over your face while you slept. Your skin was smooth against his fingers and so soft. His fingers lingered on your skin before finally, he let his arm rest around your body, holding you close as you slept against his chest.
-
Your arms were raised, feeling the walls on either side of you as you tried to figure out if you were going and if you were about to bump into anything while Zemo’s hands were clasped around your eyes tightly.
“Don’t you trust me y/n” he whispers in your year, snickering.
“Do you want a pleasant lie or the harsh truth?” you ask, turning your head slightly but Zemo tuts and moves your head back with his hands
“Not long now, just a few more steps,”
“Till what!” you whine
“Be patient y/n!”
Zemo lifts one hand of your eyes telling you to keep them close and you hear the creak of a door open ahead of you. His hand returns to your face and with slightly pushing his body against yours, he urges you forward into this new room.
“Can I finally look now?”
Zemo removes his hands and steps back from you, “Okay y/n, open your eyes”
Opening them you gasped in shock seeing what was before you. On a stand was a replica of Belle’s dress in Beauty and the Beast. Its honey yellow colour shone out, the top of it tightly clung to the mannequin it was on while the bottom poofed out, it hung with no shoulder straps and came with yellow gloves. Everything about it was perfect.
“Helmut I- I’m, stunned,”
“You like it?” he asks anxiously
You turn to him grinning, “Of course I do!”
You hug him tightly, ecstatic, then rushed over to the dress, brushing your fingers along it. “It’s beautiful” you whisper.
“I think I got the sizes right,” Zemo says coming up beside you, a pink tinge to his cheeks, “There’s only one way to know for you,” he adds on, turning to you giving you a gentle smile
He helps you take the dress off and chuckles as he watches you rush off with it to get changed, then leaves to get changed himself.
The dress fitted perfectly on you. Everything from the bust down to the waist. Even the gloves fitted perfectly. When you entered the bathroom, you found Zemo had even found some make-up in case you wanted to use any. He thought of everything.
Finally looking at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. You truly felt like a Disney princess. Slowly you walked back down the stairs and enter the room Zemo had to lead you in, to begin with. As you walked in, let out a merry laugh as you saw Zemo, dressed up in a blue jacket, embroidered with yellow roses on the sleeves, just like the beast. He was standing by a record player, putting a disk in as you walked in. He turns to look at you, his mouth opening in wonder.
“Y/n… you look glorious,”
His sincere comment makes your cheeks heat up and you hold your arms out to him, squeezing your hands letting him know you want to hold his hands.
He turns the record on and your favorite song from Beauty and the Beast floats out, making your cells light up with excitement.
“Helmut” you start to say as he walks over to you, holding his hand out, “Why are you doing this?”
He gently takes your gloved hand, bending over to kiss it. “I know it isn’t easy being stuck in here all the time and you said you loved ‘Beauty and the Beast’ so I thought it would make a pleasant treat,”
His arms hesitantly touch your waist as he looks into your eyes as if asking it was okay. You nod and step closer to him, taking his hand in yours holding it up. Getting into the waltz position you two start to move along the dance floor, swaying to the music.
You two slide along the ballroom floor, picking up speed. As you look up to him, he breathes out smiling back down at you happily. His hand on his waist spins your around as your dress flutters out. You squeal in delight as you grasp back onto his hand as you felt dizzy.
You two turn around the floor looking each other deep in the eyes. You could feel his breath on your face as you two were barely inches apart from each other. Zemo pulls you in even closer as your arm goes around his neck, your body pulled into his. He dips you as you cling to him tightly for dear life as the music fades.
He holds you into that position, panting as he looks at you, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. You could feel that pull towards him, your eyes starting to flutter shut. He leans towards you but suddenly you feel your fingers slip and you almost let go of him. His other hand quickly wraps around making sure you don’t fall to the floor.
He helps you back on your feet and you two steps apart. You look away feeling your cheeks burn up again.
“Helmut, thank you. Thank you so much” you tell him earnestly
He looks deep into your eyes, smiling in bliss, “Anything for you y/n”
-
“Y/n, are you awake?”
You groan as you hear Zemo whisper beside you, waking you from your sleep.
“Ugh, Helmut what time is it,” you moan turning over with your eyes are closed.
“It’s 8, time to wake up”
“Nooooo” you whine screwing up your eyelids.
You hear him chuckle and then you feel something push against your lips. You open your eyes confused to see Zemo beside you, holding a strawberry to your lips.
You smile and take a bite out of it, moaning in delight as you taste its sweetness as you sit up. He sits up beside you and holds out some melted chocolate for you to dip the strawberry in.
“Helmut, you spoil me”
“Not enough,” he whispers back as he puts the chocolate-covered strawberry to your lips letting you take another bite.
“I’m not even surprised anymore to see you in my bed when I wake up,” you tell him
“Technically this is my bed”
“You know what I mean!”
He chuckles as he pushes his head back into the headboard, “I thought it would be a nice way for you to wake up,”
“Consider me impressed,” you tell him, looking over at him smiling. He glances back to you, his lips twitching up. You lean into his side, not caring at the moment you were in a simple nightdress. You close your eyes inhaling his cologne and picking up a strawberry to feed to him.
“I could get used to this,” you whisper to him
-
You scan the piano music book before looking back down to the notes before you. It had been a while since you had last played so you thought you might as well pick it up while you were stuck in Zemo’s mansion.
You press the notes but every time you tried to play one of the chords you always missed one. You were trying to play your favorite song 'Comptine d'un autre été' but to no avail.
“You need to flow with the music and not worry about hitting the right notes”
You turn around and smile as you see Zemo approach you from behind. “Isn’t the whole point of music to play the right notes?” you say sarcastically
Zemo lets out a huff chuckling, “Well yes but you’ll hit the notes when you stop trying so hard. Now try again”
You turn back around and attempt the music again but hit the wrong notes making you slam the piano in annoyance.
“Don’t damage the piano”
“I’m sorry,” you mutter, “I should give up,”
“No don’t do that” Zemo says, brushing his fingers over your waist, “Here let me help you”
He puts his hands on top of yours guiding them, “Let’s try again,”
You look to the music then back down to your hands which had Zemo’s resting on and attempt to start playing again. His hands moved in time with yours as they guided along with the piano, pressing down on your fingers when you needed to. You got every note. Well, Zemo got every note.
“See, easy,” he says as he pulls back from you. “Now try again”
You attempt to play again but feeling his eyes stare into your back you couldn’t concentrate and messed up the notes again.
“We just went through this!”
“It’s hard to concentrate with you staring at me!” you exclaim turning around to him. Your eyes widen as what you just said as he tilts his head, a smug smile appearing on his lips.
“Oh, I make it hard for you to concentrate do I?”
You groan at his cockiness, looking away from him so he doesn’t see your glistening red cheeks.
He walks up behind you again, his fingers grazing your jawline, stopping at your chin as he raises your head to look up at him. Seeing him look down at you made a knot in your stomach tighten.
“You are awfully red y/n”
“Shut up”
He chuckles and leans down, placing a kiss on your forehead, “I like it when you blush”
The breath gets caught in your lungs as you feel his lips on your forehead, their softness cooling your burning skin.
For the first time in your life, you were rendered speechless, by Helmut Zemo no less.
His teeth flash in his smile as he looks down at you, “Come let’s practice this again” he says, leaning over as his back pressed into yours, putting his hands back on top of yours.
-
“Zemo do you mind if I borrow your phone briefly to see if that new video has been released?” you call out picking up Zemo’s phone that he had left on your seat.
“Go ahead! Just don’t check anything else on there” he yells back
“Worried I will find your nudes?” you call out as you unlock the phone. Pressing onto the youtube app you sigh in annoyance seeing no new video and so you were about to put the phone back down when a message appeared from a contact simply labeled ‘S’
It read, ‘S: Look just tell us where you have taken her. Whatever you are doing with her it isn’t worth it”
Your eyebrows furrow in confusion at what the hell could that message mean. You click onto the message stream just to see a ton of messages from this ‘S’ contact but with no reply from Zemo.
You hesitate for a moment, knowing Zemo wouldn’t want you to do what you were about to do, but your curiosity got the best of you and you pressed the call button.
It rang for a few seconds and then the line picked up.
“Zemo” Sam’s voice rang out through the phone
“Sam?” you ask back
“W-what, YN/!? Are you okay? Where are you?”
“Woah Woah Sam, calm down, I’m fine! I’m with Helmut-Sam what is going on?”
“What has he done to you?”
“What do you mean he's done nothing, Sam I thought me and Helmut were hiding out here till Karli was done with her plan?”
You hear a sigh down the phone and then the muffled voices of what you could make out as Bucky and Sharon down the line.
Sam picked the phone back up and spoke directly, “Y/n you need to get out of there now. Zemo, he's kidnapped you”
The phone slips from your hand and lands on the floor with a loud crash.
Tag list: @sinister-sleep @cable-kenobi @faustlyaccused @chipster-21 @icarusinstatic @yallgotkik @montypythonsholysnail @bunniwritesx @checkurwindow @huntheimpossible @jayxkelsi @avgravy @prestigious-tea @aloyssiac @hannahbal-the-fannibal @alainabooks143 @jokerprettyprincess @plumsandkiwis @latenightartist-author @e-barba @flutterskies @loonylunalovegood77 @lieutenantn @wonderwoman292 @there-goes-thefighter @multiyfandomgirl40 @freyjasamael @ineffablebean @arianalilyblack @mandowhatnow @scullys-alienpussy @felicityofbakerstreet @babayaga67 @spookycereal-s
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Hello! For the event, can I please get a Philza x male reader who has old scars from self harming? Like, the reader was like "Yea, I had problems with my self esteem". And Phil just comforting him? Thank you!
Food Fights and Comfort
Warnings: swearing, self harm scars, and self harm mentions (nothing graphic)
“You have no idea how hard getting that enchantment was,” Tommy groaned out through a mouthful of half-chewed food. Wilbur reached over to slap him upside the head, “don’t talk with your mouth full. No one wants to see that.”
“Fuck off Wilbur I can do what I want!” Tommy shoved more food into his mouth, chewed it up, and opened his mouth wide facing Wilbur. Your older brother wrinkled his nose in disgust before he shoveled some mashed potatoes onto his spoon and flung it at Tommy where it collided with his shirt. Tommy looked at the brunet with rage before he swallowed his food and scooped up some mashed potatoes and drew his spoon back. Philza’s hand on his arm and his warning glare made him freeze.
“Tommy, if you throw that I swear to god I’m gonna ground you for a month.”
“But- but he started it! I-”
“Let me finish. And Wilbur’s grounded from his guitar for two weeks.”
“C’mon! He-” Wilbur was cut off by Philza’s angry glare, “don’t make me extend it to a month, Wilbur.”
Technoblade leaned over to Tommy when Philza wasn’t looking and whispered in his ear, “if you do it, I’ll do your chores for two weeks.”
“Make it three and you have yourself a deal,” he hissed back at the pink haired teenager.
“...Fine, just do it.”
You silently watched as Tommy genuinely considered it before picking up his mashed potato-armed spoon and flinging the potatoes at the tall brunet next to you. They splattered on his yellow sweater making Wilbur look at him in offense before scooping his food once more and returning fire, his elbow knocking over your mug. The steaming contents of the mug splashed onto you and scalded your arms, soaking through your thick sweater.
A startled yelp left your mouth as you leapt up from your seat frantically trying to brush off the offending liquid unsuccessfully with your hands. The table fell silent as they watched you.
“Shit, I’m so sorry (y/n), I didn’t mean to-”
“It’s fine, Wil, accidents happen. If you all would excuse me, I’m just gonna go clean myself up.”
“Here, let me help you-” Wilbur pushed himself up from his chair only to sit back down when Philza put a hand on his shoulder.
“No, you stay here and clean up this mess. This is exactly why I didn’t want you two to have a food fight, someone always gets hurt.” He walked over to you with a small, reassuring smile, “c’mon.”
You grew increasingly nervous as he led you to the bathroom, your hands pulling your sleeves down repeatedly. He didn’t know about your scars, they were something you struggled with accepting even though it’s been almost a year since you’ve stopped. You were lucky, he had adopted you just at the beginning of fall when you could wear long sleeves as much as you wanted without getting weird looks.
After sitting you on the counter, he turned to rummage in the closet for the first aid kit. From your short time here, you could already tell that the family would go through first aid kits fast. It was a very accident-but-not-really-accident prone family.
He let out a triumphant laugh as he found the box and turned around to look at you, wiggling it in the air, “found it! Now, let’s patch you up, yeah?” When you made no move to push your sleeves up, he furrowed his brows and looked at you a bit closer. He could see the shame and anxiety on your face as clear as day, confusing him to no end. From your short time living with him, you were always an open book, telling him anything whenever he would ask.
“Kid, why’re your sleeves over your hands? I’ve got to see if you have any burns, so if you could push them up I can put some ointment on them.”
You hesitated, the last time you had shown someone your scars was when you were still at the orphanage. You had shown your best friend at the time, and they exploded at you. They told you that you were a freak, that you were an emo for self harming. They ended up spilling everything to the other orphans, and word spread fast at the orphanage; every day was the same there, so they craved new information like it was an addict’s drug.
That began the assault of ‘show us your wrists’ and ‘barcode scanner’ jokes being thrown your way. You became the outcast of the orphanage as fast as you became the loved one. You weren’t sure if the adults knew about it, but if they did, they turned a blind eye to the torment you were going through. It was a miracle that you managed to stay clean during that entire time, you were so close to relapsing. If it hadn’t been for Philza adopting you when he did, you would’ve fallen back into your old ways.
You knew Philza would never do that, as he was one of the kindest people you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. However, you had thought about your ex best friend and reflected on what they did to you. Philza had something they hadn't, however, he had your complete trust.
You prepared yourself for the looks of horror and potentially getting thrown back into the orphanage and hesitantly pushed your sleeves up to your elbows. When Philza saw this, he gave you a reassuring smile and quickly got to work on your slightly burnt forearms.
The entire time, he said nothing about the blatantly obvious scars that littered your wrists. This confused you since there was no way that he didn’t see them. Before you knew it, he tied off the bandages and put his hand on yours gently.
“Those should heal soon, you just gotta keep putting ointment on it and let it breathe for a while each day. If you want to, we can go downstairs and finish our dinner.”
You snapped yourself out of the daze you were in and cleared your dry throat awkwardly, “sure, that… that sounds good.”
“Great,” he gave you another smile before he went to leave the bathroom, “I’ll meet you downstairs, just come down when you’re ready.”
“Wait!” You hadn’t meant to say it so loud that it scared the blond, but the anxiety and paranoia that almost blocked your throat forced the word to be louder than intended. He jumped slightly and looked back at you with a soft, yet questioning gaze.
You pushed your sleeves down and fiddled with the ends of them, “you’re not going to say anything?”
“I’d never force anybody to do anything they’re uncomfortable with, it’s just not the right thing to do. It’s always better to let people open up to you whenever they’re ready to,” he said, walking over to you again and standing in front of you. “The same goes to you, I’m always going to be here to listen whenever you’re ready to talk about it.”
You shrunk in on yourself slightly and nodded, contemplating on whether you should tell him about what pushed you to that point, how you were treated when you had opened up about it for the first time. Eventually, you swallowed past the lump that had formed in your throat, “I’ll take you up on that offer.”
And so you told him everything about your previously declining mental health and how the others treated you during your stay at the orphanage. Though he concealed it well, you could still see his anger when you told him about the jokes made at your expense. He never interrupted you to ask questions, he never gave you any sign of malice, he patiently waited for you to continue whenever you paused, and he always showed you that he was actively listening to you whenever you looked at him.
A part of you expected him to kick you out of his house and take you back to the orphanage, but he offered you nothing but his full support. Talking about it, though it was hard, was far easier to do compared to your previous experience. He was an easy person to talk to, radiating a welcoming and judgemental free aura.
“You’re not going to judge me?” You questioned him when you were done, anxiety gripping at your chest. He put a hand on your shoulder and shook his head, “no, you couldn’t help it; it’s heartless to judge someone based on their struggles… You’re a strong person, (y/n). It takes a lot to get yourself out of that cycle and I’m so proud of you for how much you’ve grown and persevered through what life’s thrown at you.”
“I- thanks Dad,” you wrapped your arms around him and squeezed him lightly. Without a second of hesitation, he quickly reciprocated the hug. He tucked your head underneath his chin and rubbed your back in small circles, “any time, I’m always going to be here for you. I love you so much, son.”
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spideyobsessed · 3 years
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Before It’s Too Late - Prologue
peter parker x avenger!reader
Synopsis: With all the life changing events taking place, will you ever get to overcome some of your biggest fears?
Chapter one
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“Come on, Y/n! Do it for me!” your best friend pleaded.
“I told you not at school! It’s not my fault you went out drinking on a Tuesday.” you scolded Gwen, who is being dramatic as always.
“Please! I’ll give you 5 dollars.” She clasps her hands together and pleads some more as she shoots you a sheepish smile. You let out a sigh and shake your head, knowing you’d give in to her eventually. “How about you just hand over your jello?” You bargain, doubting she even has money with her.
“Deal!” She cheers loudly before groaning and holding her head.
Ignoring your whiny friend, you scope out your area of the cafeteria. Once you were certain there were no eyes on you, you turn back to Gwen, “This is the last time I’m doing this at school.”
“Yeah yeah, just hurry!” She rushes.
You take a deep breath and focus all of your energy towards your hands. You place your fingertips on either side of Gwen’s head, a purple aura radiating from them. As the energy transfers from your fingers to her temples, you watch a wave of relief mask her face.
“Better?” You ask her, the purple already gone from your fingers. “So much better. Bless you, almighty Y/n!” Gwen bows her head and graciously hands you her jello cup. You let out a loud laugh before accepting the treat, “You are ever so welcome, peasant.” She shoves you slightly before joining you in laughter.
“I saw that, ya know?” A third voice suddenly appears.
Your eyes widen when you see who the voice belongs to. Michelle Jones. This girl notices everything and now she’s just seen you use your abilities. So dumb. So careless. How could I let her catch-
“See what, Mj?” Gwen interrupts your panicked train of thought.
The odd girl invites herself to sit at your table. She squints her eyes while looking back and forth between you and Gwen. “I saw how close you guys were just a minute ago. It just seemed like something is going on.” She speaks with subtle confidence, as if she just cracked a big case.
“What? Uh no. Nope. Nothing going on here, that’s crazy talk.” You chuckle nervously. The blonde girl besides you gives you a disappointed look, “Nice save.” You gulp hard and your palms being to sweat.
The secret is out. I’m done for. I’m going to live the rest of my life as a lab rat being poked and prodded every single day-
“I don’t know. Things just seemed kinda... fruity over here.” Your thoughts interrupted once more, this time by Mj and her idiotic comment. She and Gwen begin to laugh as you bury your face in your hands, your nerves settle, thankfully.
“Very funny, very funny.” Gwen manages to say through her laughing fit, “but we all know who Y/n really wants to swap spit with.” she points a finger.
You turn your head, and almost as if it was second nature, your eyes land on the guy you’ve been crushing on since 8th grade year.
Peter Parker.
You feel the heat spreading across your face and you’re sure your pupils are dilated out of this world, but none of it is enough to tear away your gaze. Gwen let’s out a high pitched “Aahh” as she attempts to replicate that of a beautiful church chorus (and does quite the opposite). You’ve learned to tune out your best friend’s theatrical tendencies.
The smallest smile creeps onto your lips as you watch him and his best friend, Ned, laugh and toss grapes into each other’s mouths. Gwen and Mj share a knowing glance before continuing their antics.
Look at him! The way he grabs his stomach when he laughs, the way his eyes crinkle in the corner when he smiles too wide, the way his curls droop over his forehead. He’s perfect... Oh no.
You whip your direction back to the girls next to you, “Is it that obvious? Does everyone really know I like him?” Your nerves return. “You only make it like super obvious, dude.” Mj snorts, stealing a fry from your tray. You sigh and start to pick at your rightfully earned jello.
“Too bad he doesn’t even know I exist.” You grumble, fully and shamelessly basking in your own self pity. “I can fix that,” Mj smirks, “Hey losers! Get over here!” She shouts from across the lunchroom.
She instantly captures the attention of Peter and Ned, who are obviously use to her ever so friendly nicknames, and everyone else in the cafeteria. You make brief eye contact with the curly haired boy and fight the urge to just melt in your seat.
Sweat starts to bead from your forehead as you turn to Mj and whisper harsh words of protests. “Just go with it, Y/n.” Gwen attempts to reassure you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. Please please please don’t embarrass yourself, you thought as they approach your table.
“Yes, Mj?” Ned questions her with his eyes squinted. You can tell they’re both worried about what might come out of her mouth. Quite frankly, you are too! Mj has no filter and is too unpredictable.
You try to avoid making eye contact with Peter, which is really hard to do considering he’s standing right next to you. You smell the strong scent of cologne and suddenly your throat is drier than the Sahara Desert. You sit in silence as you fiddle with your fingers.
“You guys know Gwen and Y/n, right?” Mj speaks in her monotone voice as she points a thumb over to you and Gwen.
This brings out a loud chuckle from Ned, “Uh duh! Of course we know Gwen Stacy and Y/n Y/l/n.” You can’t help but tilt your head over to Gwen, who is just as confused as you, but seems to be entertained by the event unfolding before your eyes.
“What Ned means is, uh.. y-yes. We’ve seen you guys around. And totally not in a creepy way or anything. We’re not stalkers. I just mean I’ve seen you pass by my locker. Not that I was looking for you or anything. I-It’s just that- well...um. I’m gonna.. stop there.” Peter finally chimes in with a painfully awkward laugh, but you swear it’s music to your ears.
Mj clears her throat, “Anyway, it’s your lucky day, nerds. Liz is having a party this Friday and these ladies don’t have dates, so you’re gonna take them. Ned with Gwen and Peter with Y/n.”
While Mj sits back and watches in amusement as Peter and Ned take turns stuttering words of confusion and hesitation, you lean over to Gwen, “Are we just going to let her set us up with them?” “Shh. It’s getting good.” Gwen shushes you.
“Well what about you, Mj? Won’t you be like.. the fifth wheel?” Ned asks a pretty valid question.
“As a young woman, I will be attending the party alone because I refuse to contribute to today’s patriarchal society norms.” Mj answers the question, sounding even more serious than you thought was possible.
The four of you are left speechless, none of you really knowing how to respond to that subtly backhanded statement. Mj continues, “They’ll be ready by 8:00 though. So don’t be late.”
“Demanding much? What if we had plans on Friday?” Peter scoffs while crossing his arms over his chest.
“You two have plans on a Friday night that don’t include a lego death star?” Mj mirrors his actions, calling his bluff.
Peter trades a defeated look with Ned and drops his arms. “No.” he sighs. “Good! So like I said, 8 o’clock. You’re dismissed.” Mj asserts before waving them off.
You get a sudden jolt of confidence and shoot Peter a small smile. He gives you one in return as he walks away with Ned.
“Really?!” You slap your hand on the table as soon as you were sure the two boys were out of earshot. “I believe the words you’re looking for are “Thank you, Mj. You’re the best!” but whatever.” The sarcastic girl smiles, obviously satisfied with her ‘leadership skills’, as she likes to call it.
You could just burst with embarrassment, “Oh, I have a few words I want to say, alright.” However, the bell rings before you get the chance.
- - - - -
The final bell of the day had finally rung and you walk to your locker in a slump. You spent the last three hours replaying the impromptu game of matchmaker at lunch over and over again in your head.
I can’t believe Mj pulled that stunt, you thought, but why was he so against it? He probably doesn’t want to go with me.
You absentmindedly put away your books and shut your locker. As you begin to walk towards the exit, you don’t even realize that the boy you’re constantly thinking of was right next to you.
Peter jogs a bit to catch up with you. “Uh h-hey, Y/n.” he says timidly, his voice making you stop dead in your tracks.
Your eyes widen and your legs now feel weak once you realize it’s really him. “Peter, hi!” you practically yell. Don’t seem too excited! You cringe at your eagerness before giving him a more calming, “Hi.”
The two of you chuckle at how awkward you both are. After a few seconds of silence and avoided eye contact, Peter is the first to start a conversation. “So lunch was pretty...” “Interesting?” you finish his sentence. “You read my mind.” He breathes as he looks down at his shoes.
You take this as your chance to apologize for your very bold acquaintance friend’s behavior. “I’m really really sorry about Mj. I had no idea she was going to do any of that. You and Ned don’t have to take us, if you guys don’t want to.” You manage to push out in one breath.
“No, it’s okay! I know how Mj is.” He reassures you with the sweetest smile possible. “I actually came to ask you what you’re wearing on Friday. I wouldn’t want to be underdressed.”
Heat immediately rushes to your face. This is not a drill! Okay, okay. Just breathe. Be cool. “Uhm I really haven’t given it much thought yet.” You tried your best to keep your composure despite the happiness coursing through your body.
“Oh, that’s totally cool!” Peter hesitates for a moment before saying, “Maybe we could, ya know, trade numbers and you can let me know later.”
You nod your head, maybe one too many times. “Yes, I think that’s a great idea.” You tell him, unable to hide the big smile plastered across your face.
The two of you chuckle once again at the awkward, yet somehow endearing, tension as you switch phones.
I can’t believe this is happening.
You can’t help but take notice of almost every little detail.
Peter’s phone has a screen protector, but still has a good sized crack on the top left corner.
There’s several unread messages, emails, and missed calls.
His home screen is a picture of probably the most beautiful sunset you could get in Queens. And oddly enough, the picture looks like it was taken from the very top of one of the skyscrapers.
I wonder how he got this picture.
After taking in as much as you could, you finally put in the 10 digits of your number. You simply put your name in as “Y/n” and locked the phone, handing it back to Peter, who was taking his sweet time.
Once you got back your phone, you see that he did not keep it as simple as you did. He put his contact name as “Peter :)))” and somehow managed to take and upload a contact photo as well. You smile widely at the sight on your screen.
“Awesome! So I’ll... text you later?” You say more as a question, but Peter doesn’t seem to notice this. “Yes, later! Sounds great.” He smiles as he walks backwards in the opposite direction from you.
“Y-yeah, uh, later!” You say as you copy his actions and also begin to walk backwards. “Later.” Peter gives you that smile that you love so much. You quickly turn around before he could see you blush anymore than he already has. Anyone with decent eyesight can see that you ended the day happier than you started it.
Okay, okay. Thanks, Mj.
- - - - -
“Oh what’s that, Peter? You want my number?” You say out loud, reenacting your conversation with Peter just minutes ago. The stares of strangers walking by you go unnoticed because you’re in your own little world, thinking about the boy of your dreams asking for your number!
“I mean sure, but I can’t promise I’ll get to you right away. There’s just SO many people blowing up my phone.” You say with a sigh as you dramatically place the back of your hand to your forehead. Wow, I’ve been hanging around Gwen too much.
You laugh to yourself, and continue your routine trek home until you hear a faint cry. To your right is a little girl, no older than seven years old, sitting on the stoop of these apartment buildings. You take a quick glance around, checking for any adults she might belong to. When you see no one around, you decide to check on her. With caution, you stroll over to where she’s sitting, and it was in this moment that you realize she’s cradling a small kitten.
You crouch down to her level, “Hey, sweetie. What’s wrong?”
The young girl looks up at you with her big, tearful eyes and then back down at the kitten. You let her sniffle a few times and muster up the courage to speak. “It’s my kitty.” her voice cracks, “He’s really sick, but my mom said we can’t go to the vet.”
You look down at the poor cat. His fur is matted, his breathing is labored, and he looks as if he hasn’t been eating. You can’t help but pity the both of them.
She can barely finish her sentence before breaking down again. Instinct kicking in, you start to rub small circles on her back in order to comfort her, “Don’t cry, don’t cry. I can help him!” The child instantly perks up.
“How are you gonna do that?” She questions skeptically while simultaneously placing the small creature in your hands.
You flash a smug smile before wiggling your fingers in front of her face. “With magic.” You whisper. The little girl’s eyes sparkle as she gazes upon the purple aura beaming from your hand.
You had no problem showing off your abilities to children. With their hyperactive imaginations and short attention spans, they don’t pose a threat when it comes to exposing your secret.
Finally turning your attention to the sickly kitten once more, you press your index and middle finger to its stomach. Just as it did with Gwen earlier today, the purple energy moves from your fingers and onto the kitten. It only takes a few seconds for the cat to spring out of your hands and back to its tiny owner, moving with full strength and purring happily.
The little girl gasps in pure amazement as she picks up her cat and squeezes it to her chest. “Thank you so much! I love magic now!” She squeals, a hint of sparkle still in her eyes.
You let out a lighthearted laugh and ruffle her already messy hair a little bit. “Sure thing, hun. You take good care of him!”
“I will, I will!” She smiles brightly before rising to her feet. “Mommy, mommy! Spiderman feels better now!”
and with that, the little girl disappears through the door.
Did she really name that cat Spiderman?
You roll your eyes and shake your head before carrying on.
- - - - -
“Alice, I’m home- woah. What the hell is this?” You spit in shock at the sight in front of you.
Your Aunt Alice walks up to you and gently pulls you through the doorway. She lets out a loud over exaggerated laugh, “Y/n, we have a guest! Don’t be rude when we have a billionaire in our house.” She whispers the last part to you.
“Uh- right! My apologies. I’m Y/n Y/l/n.” You walk up to the clean cut man with an outstretched hand.
He whips his sunglasses off of his face and you immediately feel ten times more intimidated and a hundred times more confused. He pushes himself off of your couch and steps in front of you.
The man placed his firm hand in yours and gives you a subtle shake, “I know who you are, kid. I’m Tony Stark.”
/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /
The next part!
Okay guys that’s the end of the introduction chapter!! I hope you guys like it! I’m sorry it’s everywhere right now, but it’ll start making more sense as it goes on, like most stories do.
I’m open for some feedback!! Let me know if the chapter was too long or too short. Maybe it could use more dialogue or less dialogue. Whatever you have in mind, just please be nice!! I haven’t written a story like this since I was like 15 so I might be a little rusty. If you’re still here, thank you for reading this far!!
edit: Sorry for any typos!!
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Teddy
Notes: This is my entry for @pagesoflauren Prompts:
So, this is love” from “So This is Love” by Ilene Woods and Mike Douglas from Cinderella
“Um, you...you fight good.” from Mulan
“This reminded me of you.”
Warnings: 18 +Only, dark themes, Dubious consent due to alcohol consumption, drunken sex, fingering, out door sex
Summary: a corporate event turns into hazy regret
Dark(maybe more grey) CEO Steve x Reader
🐻
Why they decided to hold a corporate event in the middle of the work week was beyond you. But you could only blame yourself for the alcohol consumption you partook in. Your head and body ached. You had taken a few aspirin before getting to work, but it didn't sooth the pains rippling through your body. Last night was a fog that you could barely piece together, but you weren't worried. You had made it home safe and your office mates had not blown up your phone with anything salacious.
You frowned at the continuous slowed traffic at your cubical when you approached. When you spotted the source you were surprised. A sweet little box with an oversized bow sat on top of your keyboard with a tiny little note. Your coworkers all past your station giggling amongst themselves as they spied it. You felt the heat of all the attention permeate your face as you rushed to stash it away.
Taking your seat before your monitor you hid the parcel. You waited patiently until you felt no one was paying you any mind. Had someone miss placed this? Curious you read the note. “This reminded me of you.” Flipping it over no name.
You untie the bow and opened it carefully.
"Did you like it?" Steve's sudden voice made you bristle.
You fumble with the box, dropping it, spilling the contents as he leaned on your cubical wall.
"Um sorry?" you looked at him confused.
"I was thinking of getting rid of this thing, but now"
he scratched at his beard as you wrinkled your brow at him. His name was called before he could clarify his point. The distraction pulled him away, but not before he shot you a sly wink.
That was strange.
With him away you reached down to pick up the fallen gift. You rose slowly lifting a new coffee mug, turning it you see a yellow cartoon teddy bear smiling at you.
Your eyes grew round as a flood of memories drowned you. Flashes of the night before filled in gaps you had brushed off until now.
🐻
The night before
You were an expert at avoiding company events, but when the email read mandatory you groaned. The biannual event was a must for all employees foreign and domestic.
You didn't hate your company, you actually loved it. Everyone was friendly, it was a stark contrast to the cut throat companies you were used to. It was just that social events made you feel painfully awkward.
The venue was massive. Every odd person asked which office you worked in and what department you belonged to. You smiled and made short talk as you searched for a place to hide until the event was over. It was very draining, being an introvert you could only handle so much social interaction.
The corporate sponsored libations helped get you through the most part. Snatching a drink from every waiter that passed with a tray. It was an easy, trick gulp down the glass then motion to the empty cup before departing the group signaling you are going to find more. An easy out that had you buzzed, but you felt as though you were holding together well. When you found your hiding spot you breathed easier, taking the seat hidden behind a column, you played with your phone until the event whined down.
"Hey your in accounting right?"
You looked up from the phone to find John Walker. He smiled softly, slipping into the empty seat next to you. "Oh no, sorry.."
"Why are you hiding away by yourself?" He cut you off. You reached for your half empty flute and took a big gulp. Swallowing it down before tapping the glass, signaling your exit just as he began to crowd you into the corner space.
"How do you like it here?" He asked you another question stifling your exit. You could feel his breath on your face as you tried to lean away, but his arm stretched out pulling you closer.
A yelp escaped your lips when his other hand found your thigh. You don't want to cause a scene, but you want him to give you space. Your hiding space was too good. No one noticed or cared that you were trapped by a fellow colleague. "I need to-"
John pulled you down when you tried to stand and excuse yourself. "Hey" the scent of his drink finally hit your nose. "You cant leave before we cheers." His grip on you felt so firm that you worried if you upset him, his smile seemed strained and his eyes roamed you uncomfortably. John suddenly lifted the hand from your shoulder and snapped his fingers in the air, signaling a server to bring more drinks to the table. "One more drink huh? Bad luck not to cheers with everyone you know?"
You gripped your phone so hard you felt it imprint on your palm. You just wanted to go home. When the serve dropped the glasses John pushed one at you. To appease him you took it. Maybe he would leave after this. He raised his glass and you did the same. "To a fruitful quarter."
You murmured and repeated him. The glasses clinked before you both took a drink. This drink hit you harder than before, but you chugged it down anyway.
When John finished his glass he cloaked you. His eyes filled with a hunger that had you leaning further back into the back of your chair. He kept coming so close no matter how you shifted in your seat to gain distance. "Please I need to go home" you begged as he roamed up your skirt.
When his eyes bulged you were confused before you felt relief. John fell away from you, hitting the floor hard as a hulk of a man appeared standing over him. John did not appreciate it, hopping to his feet. You tried to stand yourself, but the room spun and swayed with such force you fell back on your seat. John and your savior blurred as you try to focus. You squinted as John pushed back on the stranger only to find his chin connecting with a right hook. His body fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes as you watched everything in slow motion.
It was so surreal seeing John laid out. You looked up to see the founder standing above him. Steve Rogers was the man behind the knockout punch. You snorted, laughing loudly at the ridiculousness. There was no way you saw that correctly.
He turned his attention to you, mouthing words at you, but you couldn't understand them. People began to crowd around John and your table. You were becoming the center of attention and that filled you with an urge to escape.
"I want to go home." You whimpered lowly, as you found it hard to move with so many people around. You reached your limit, there were too many eyes, too many voices, you felt trapped yet again.
"Where do you live?" His voice cut through everyone else. It sounded so concerned yet sweet it set you at ease. You slurred out the destination as he helped you up from the seat.
He felt so warm, firm and safe that you couldn't help, but cuddle into his side as he guided you out.
Your eyes started to feel heavy as your body floated along. “Um, you...you fight good.” you blurted out making him chuckle. "Thank you" you slurred out the complement. Your yawn muffled his response as your eyes closed and you slipped into sleep.
🐻
Your head lolled on the back of the leather seat as a chill nipped at your body. "It's too cold" you groaned missing the warmth that sent you to slumber.
"I miss warm" you whined tilting your head to the side, squinting at the blurry blob that resembled the sun. You reached out to find the source of warmth, but got jerked back by a restraint, you grumbled and frowned when you found a seat belt.
"Hey sleepy head." It sounded like Mr.Rogers. You had heard his voice many times over many corporate calls and monthly meetings, but that was preposterous. There was no way the high powered CEO was talking to you.
"Give me warm" you whined again, your eyes still heavy as you tried to focus on their face. You attempted once more to reach your hand out, this time your finger tips clumsily grazed over a nose before trailing up to gelled hair. "Oop. Watch it you almost blinded me there." He laughed lightly as the car swerved a bit. "Ok ok settled down I'll turn on the AC." The click and whoosh of the heater elevated the chill a bit.
"Sorry I run a little hot. Does this help?"
You hummed with delight as a warm hand reached out to glide up and down your thigh in comforting strokes. Your fingers played in the sleeked geld locks. Your thighs absorb the warmth of his hand as he kneaded your skin.
"You have arrived at your destination" the robotic voice announced.
"Yay!" Clapping your hands together ready to go to bed.
"Don't like parties huh?"
"I like home better." You yawned still very tired.
"Yeah me too" he agreed as the warm hand in your lap left. You whimpered in disappointment as a car door opened and closed. You stayed lazy sat in place too tired to move, closing your eyes welcoming sleep once again.
"Come on let's get you home." He grunted as he reached over you, waking you slightly. The smell of his cologne filled your nose as you heard the distinct click of your seat belt and feel of the strap slide away.
"Who are you?" You genuinely inquired.
He pulled you from the seat and stood you up against the car. Your body sagged, but he kept you standing. "Don't remember me, huh?" He huffed dragging you out. "Steve. Steve Rogers." He told you as he tried to keep you steady while closing the door.
"Your face is soo fluffy" you giggled as you grabbed at his beard. "No! Your not Steve! Your teddy" you dubbed shouting at him, cupping his face as you brought him closer. "You feel so good teddy."
"You think so?" Steve chuckled excepting his new nickname.
Stepping closer he pressed his weight on you and chuckled, boxing you between him and the car. "Fluffy teddy bear man" you giggled again as his cologne once again invaded your nose.
"You smell good too" you confessed as he leaned closer. His lips tilted into a devilish grin as you leaned forward to inhale along his neck. His strong hands held your hips before squeezing when you licked at him. "Tasted good too."
"Bad girl." Steve admonished leaning away from you. "Bad teddy" you frowned, pulling him closer by his blazer. "Keep me warm teddy." You pouted.
"Like that?" Steve questioned as his palms slipped down your waist then road up your thigh. You gasped when he ascended up and under your skirt. You nodded 'yes' allowing his brazened hand to slip into your panties, cupping your mound. The car rocked a bit as he leaned all his weight on you, sinking into you. His bristly beard hairs tickled your neck as you panted wildly into the cold air.
"Do you like how I make you feel?" Steve asked trailing up and over your lips. You moan a 'yes' into his mouth while you pushed into his palm urging him on.
Steve tried to pull his hand from you, but you squeezed your thighs together, not allowing him to retreat. "No teddy don't leave" you begged pouting. Steve smiled at the nickname while plunging deep in your core, curling his digits inside of you.
Your skirt road high off your ass and you felt the chill of the door on your exposed cheeks. You didn't care, you just wanted more. Lifting your leg Steve hooked it around his waist. "I love you teddy" you proclaimed drunk off his touch.
"Oh yeah" he growled in your ear, sending fire down your neck as he kissed you all over. You felt your panties pushed to the side as he pressed his sheathed need on you.
"Ummm mmm" you hummed eager for him to do more. Steve steady you with one hand while his other fumbled with the front of his pants. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and your hips pushed forward. Waiting impatiently you bite your lip giving him a pleading look. "Love you so much teddy."
"So this is love?" Steve swirled his cock in your juices, teasing as he pressed hard along your eagerness. "Don't tease" you slapped at him frowning. "You want teddy to love you?" he groaned pressing his tip hard against your entrance. You nod 'yes' and hiss as his cock slowly stretched you open. You welcomed the strain while another warmth burst from your core. Your fingers tangled in his hair while Steve kissed you passionately. You panted wildly as Steve picked up speed, rutting you against the car door. "So this..." Steve stretched out each word, thrusting into you hard and deep, your slick him thoroughly. You chanted 'yes' allowing him to rut you against the car. Steve's thickness made you quiver. Despite being out in the world it felt as if you were the only two left on earth. "This is love" he sighed pushing as deep as he could go.
The warmth of him exploded all around you, melting you into him deliciously. You dissolved into him, slipping mindlessly into ecstasy.
🐻
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intheticklecloset · 3 years
Text
Some Kind of Way (My Hero Academia)
ShinDeku AU
Summary: Shinsou begins to realize he may have feelings for Deku, and it makes him act so out of the ordinary that his crush decides the best way to help him relax is the very thing that kickstarted his feelings in the first place.
A/N: I am so unbelievably excited to finally share this with you! This one has been waiting in the wings for quite a while! Welcome to the first fic in my official ShinDeku AU! This story takes place after the events of "Say Mercy" and creates an entirely new storyline. While these two remain good friends in the Primary Universe, in this AU, things go a little differently.
I will admit this is pretty self-indulgent, but I know I'll want to keep writing for these boys, and what better excuse than to create an alternate reality in which they get together? Cute boyfriends and lots of tickling - what more could you want? I hope you enjoy! <3 <3
Word Count: 2,275
~~~
Midoriya: Video games at my place! Kaminari and Todoroki are coming – do you wanna join??
Shinsou stared at his phone screen for so long it went dark on him three times. He’d nearly forgotten that at some point he and Deku had exchanged numbers. Their spring break had just started; today was Monday, which meant that Deku’s mom was probably at work right now, as it was just after ten in the morning.
It really shouldn’t have been this hard to reply to a text. Yet here he sat, struggling to do just that.
It’s video games, Shinsou berated himself. You’ve played video games with him before. That’s what you were doing the last time you hung out. Just answer his text!
Shinsou: Yes. I don’t know where you live, though.
Midoriya: I’ll send you the details! Can’t wait!! :D
Shinsou set his phone aside, heart racing. This is ridiculous. What’s happening to me? He rubbed his eyes tiredly, his mind flashing back to the last time he’d hung out with Deku. They’d gotten into a tickle fight, which he’d ultimately won, but there had been a…a moment. When he’d pinned Deku for the last time and ordered him to beg for mercy. The way Deku had screamed the word over and over through hysterical fits of laughter…
He swallowed. It had been so satisfying, but more than that, it had been…cute. No, adorable. Completely, utterly adorable. Deku was adorable. And for the first time, Shinsou was noticing.
He tried not to think about it as he gathered up his things and walked out the door, heading to the destination the green-haired boy had provided him with.
*
Seeing him in person was so much worse.
Deku opened up the door with a bright smile and an invitation to come inside. It was the first time Shinsou had seen him without his school uniform or hero costume on. He wore a bright yellow All Might t-shirt and blue shorts, and he was barefoot. Shinsou awkwardly took his own shoes off in the entryway and followed him into the small living room, where Todoroki was already seated on the floor.
The icy-hot hero raised a hand in greeting. Shinsou nodded at him, then took a seat as well.
“Kaminari should be here any minute,” Deku said, pulling out his phone to check for a text from the blonde. “It’s so cool to finally have friends over at my place! Make yourselves at home. We’ve got juice and soda in the fridge if you want some, and later we can have lunch together, too.” Deku smiled so brightly it lit up the whole block. “Plus I’ll get to introduce you to a racing game that’s not Mario Kart for once!”
Shinsou couldn’t take his eyes off of him. He found himself noticing things more and more. The particular shade of green that his eyes were. The spattering of freckles across his face and arms. How scarred his right arm was. How muscular he was despite his smaller stature. Shinsou noticed all of it, and it made his heart beat faster and faster. Crap, crap, crap, he thought frantically. I…I’ve got a—
Someone knocked on the door, Deku hurried to answer it, and the spell was broken. Shinsou blinked several times. Seriously, what was happening to him?
“Heyyy, it’s my man Shinsou!” Kaminari greeted enthusiastically, slapping him on the back. “And Todoroki, of course. Ready to lose some video games?”
Shinsou let out a sigh of relief, then smirked up at him. “The joke’s on you, Kaminari. Midoriya says we’re not playing Mario Kart.”
“Dude, what?” Kaminari whipped around to face Deku. It was so much easier to look at him with Kaminari in the room as well. “You can’t take my crown away like that!”
Deku grinned. “I’m introducing you to a different racing game. Kacchan and I play it sometimes – Team Sonic Racing!”
“Sonic has a racing game?” Kaminari asked, then hummed. “Well, he is a speedy little guy. I guess it makes sense.”
“Team racing?” Todoroki asked. “What does that mean?”
Deku lit up at the question, then launched into a long, rambling explanation of all the ways it differed from Mario Kart, and why it was superior, as well. After a little while they finally got to the actual playing part of it, and before they knew it, the morning hours were long gone.
*
Getting lost in the world of Team Sonic Racing did wonders for Shinsou’s mind. He was able to focus on something that wasn’t Deku, for once – even if Deku’s character of choice did cause him a lot of trouble during the races. It gave him a chance to calm down, clear his head, and get back to his normal self. At least, until a couple of hours later when it was lunchtime.
Kaminari had announced early on that he had lunch plans with some others from their class, so it was expected that he’d leave after a couple of hours. But it was a surprise to both Shinsou and Deku when Todoroki announced he was also leaving.
“My apologies,” he said, “but I got a text from my sister that asked me to meet her downtown for lunch with her and my brother. I’m…trying to get back in touch with them, as it were. I can’t really do that while I’m at the dorms.”
“That’s okay,” Deku said, sounding sincere. “I understand. Go have fun with your family.” Then he turned to Shinsou. “Do you want to stay, or do you have somewhere to be?”
Shinsou’s heart was racing again. He was about to be alone with Midoriya again.
“I…I can stay,” he said, nodding. “If that’s all right with you.”
“Of course!”
After bidding farewell to their other friends, Deku led Shinsou back into the kitchen and opened up the fridge, pulling out various things they could use to make sandwiches. Shinsou got the bread out of the pantry (after struggling for a few moments to even find the pantry), and soon they were both at work making lunch for themselves.
“How’s your spring break so far?” Deku asked.
“It’s…fine,” Shinsou murmured. He didn’t really have anything exciting to report on. “You?”
“Great! I kind of took it easy this weekend because All Might insisted I actually rest, but we trained together this morning before I invited you over for video games. We’ll train again tomorrow, too.”
Shinsou glanced at him. “It’s spring break.”
“I know, but I don’t want to stop training. I’ve got to work as hard as I can to get even stronger.”
“Rest is important, too, you know.”
Deku smiled. “You sound just like everyone else.”
“Because we’re right.”
“I’m resting more than I’m training this week. Don’t worry, Shinsou. I won’t burn myself out.”
Shinsou nodded. “Good.”
“So,” Deku continued, expertly changing the topic as he finished up his sandwich, “want to play some more after lunch? Or we could watch a movie or something instead. What do you want to do?”
“Um…” Shinsou hesitated. Again that image of Deku laughing and begging entered his mind. He shoved it away. “I…I don’t know. Midoriya,” he added quickly, before he lost his nerve, “why do you want to hang out with me so much?”
Deku went silent for a moment. “Because you’re my friend? And you’re really cool! I think it’s so awesome that you want to join the hero course, and your quirk is so useful, especially with that voice changer thing you have now, and—”
“Useful?” Shinsou turned to look at him, surprised. “No one’s ever called my quirk useful before.”
“Then no one’s really known you before,” Deku replied confidently, taking his first bite of his lunch. “Mmm, this is good! What’d you make?”
Shinsou glanced down at his half-finished sandwich and reached for some lunch meat. “To be determined.”
*
When they’d finished eating and cleaned up the kitchen, Shinsou and Deku went back into the living room, where Team Sonic Racing sat waiting for them on the screen, should they continue to play it.
“Are you okay, Shinsou?” Deku asked, his voice gentler now. “You seem bothered about something.”
Dear god, was he really so easy to read? Shinsou cleared his throat. “No, I’m fine. I’m just…” He searched for the words. How could he explain to Deku that he was pretty sure he had a crush…on Deku? “I’m just…I don’t know. Fine.”
“You know, if you’re not up for video games anymore, we could play a different game,” Deku said. Shinsou glanced up at him, hearing the teasing tone in his voice, and his eyes widened when he saw the green-haired boy wiggling his fingers and smiling wide.
Instant. Blush.
“Uh, I-I mean…I mean, i-if you…want to, then…” Shinsou stammered, hating every word he tripped over. It had never been difficult for him to speak to Midoriya before. Why was it suddenly the hardest thing he’d ever done?
“Actually, maybe we shouldn’t have a tickle fight,” Deku announced even as he lunged for Shinsou and tackled him to the floor. “Maybe I should just tickle you! You really need to relax, Shinsou. You act like I’m about to bite you or something.”
“I d-dohohohohon’t – I cahahahahan’t help it!” he giggled, the light pinches along his sides and ribs enough to help him loosen up a little, but not enough to really make him panic just yet. He fell onto his back on the floor, letting Deku tickle all over his torso, drawing giggle after much-needed giggle out of him.
“You don’t have to be nervous around me,” Deku continued, oblivious to Shinsou’s struggle. “We’re friends! If you want to talk about something, I’m happy to listen.”
Crap, crap, crap! Shinsou brought his hands up to cover his face, growing really, truly flustered now. “I’m sohohohohohohorry, I cahahahahan’t – I cahahahaHAHAHAHAN’T!! NAHAHAHAHAHA!!” The violet-haired boy shot his arms down to try and shove Deku away when he reached his hips, squeezing with a wicked smirk on his face. “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHO!! MIDORYA!!”
“Relax, Shinsou~” Deku teased, swinging a leg over to straddle his friend and pin him more firmly in place, still squeezing his hips. “Sometimes it’s best to just laugh it all out, right?”
“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! GOD, MIHIHIHIHIDORIYA!! NOT THEHEHEHEHERE!!” Shinsou cackled, twisting and writhing on the ground. “YOU KNOHOHOHOHOHOW IT’S BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAD THEHEHEHERE!!”
“Why do you think I’m tickling you there?” Deku laughed, too, finding his hip bones and pressing in deeply. “Tickle, tickle, tickle~”
“DOHOHOHOHOHOHOHON’T!!” Shinsou cried, flustered and embarrassed but also having a lot of fun despite himself. He let out a loud shriek and kicked his legs when Deku focused on that one spot that drove him absolutely crazy. “NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! MIDORIYAHAHAHAHA!!”
Deku chuckled. “Feeling better? Feeling relaxed yet, Shinsou?”
Shinsou squealed, prying his eyes open just enough to see Deku’s huge smile, his bright eyes, his looming form over him, and the boy from 1-C simply could not take it anymore. “PLEHEHEHEASE!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP IT!! MIDORIYA, PLEHEHEHEHEASE!! MERCY!! MERCY MERCY MERCYEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!”
Deku stopped, but didn’t climb off of him. Shinsou gasped for breath and looked up at him, still giggling, surprised to see a tiny blush on the boy’s freckled cheeks. He blinked a few times. “M-Midoriya?”
“I…I’m s-sorry, I, uh…” Deku stammered, blinking as well. His cheeks got even pinker. “Oh! I’ll let you go—”
Shinsou reached up faster than either of them could think and grabbed onto Deku’s arms, stopping him from climbing off just yet. He forced himself to make eye contact with the smaller boy, and when he did, what he saw there gave him the encouragement he needed to finally get this off of his chest.
“Midoriya,” he said quietly, “I think I need to tell you something.”
Deku swallowed. He suddenly seemed nervous, too. “Y-Yeah?”
Shinsou’s heart was pounding against his ribcage. “I…I kind of…like you. Like…you know. That way.”
Deku let out a little gasp in response, but he never broke eye contact. His cheeks went from pink to red. “I…I t-think I like you, too, Shinsou…”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
Shinsou finally moved to sit up, wrapping an arm around Deku’s back to keep him from falling over as he did so, and when he was upright again the two of them were face-to-face. Shinsou’s eyes flicked all over Deku’s blushing features, from his shining eyes down to his lips and back up again. Then he brought his free hand up to scribble against the smaller boy’s side.
Deku immediately smiled wide, giggling slightly, and Shinsou’s suspicions were confirmed. “Ugh, you’re adorable,” he muttered, pulling him into a bear hug and burying his face in his shoulder. “You know that? Adorable, Midoriya.”
“I-I think you’re cute, too,” Deku stammered, sounding incredibly flustered.
“Only cute?” Shinsou teased, digging his fingertips into the boy’s ribs, feeling him jolt in his arms but holding him tightly all the same. “Wow, and after I just poured my heart out to you.”
“Ahahahahaha nohohohohohoho! I’m sohohohohohorry!” Deku squealed, giggling and squirming but unable to go anywhere or protect himself. He tossed his head back and laughed freely. “You’re adohohohohohorable, too! Plehehehehehease, Shinsou!”
“Too late, Midoriya,” Shinsou replied, grinning into his shoulder, feeling more confident now. He slid one tickling hand down to Deku’s hip and laughed with him when he spasmed so hard they both fell to the floor. “You said I was just cute. Now you’ll have to face the wrath of the tickle monster!”
“Nohohohohohohohoho!” Deku cried, giggling hysterically, but it was obvious to both of them that he didn’t really want any of this to stop, and neither did Shinsou.
So it didn’t.
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mycrofts-gunbrella · 3 years
Text
Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Part Eight (Mycroft Holmes x Reader)
Sorry for such a long delay!! It’s my little boy’s first birthday this week so I’ve been running around making arrangements and picking up last minute presents! Hope you enjoy this little chapter. It’s only 3K words, but it is a build up ready for the next chapter which will contain smut! Not full blown smut (I don’t think Mycroft is ready for that yet!) but still smutty nonetheless!
I will separate the smutty bit enough so that you can skip it if you want, but it will be referenced later on in that chapter!
Word Count- 3062
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This morning differed from the last few that you had experienced since staying at Mycroft's home, namely because Mycroft had awoken before you this time, but also because it was the first morning you had ever been awoken by long fingers prodding at your forehead. That and also because, despite last night's late events, you managed to arise at a reasonable 9am.
"Did you know there are a lot nicer ways to wake somebody up?" You questioned, opening your eyes to see Mycroft staring at you with a slight frown to his brow. He retracted his hand slightly and shifted to sit a little higher.
"You know, Sherlock as a child once woke me in a similar way. I felt small scratches on my eyebrows and woke up to see him crouched over me with a smug little grin on his face. As it turns out, he had slipped sleeping pills into my cup of tea before bed and in my slumber covered my eyebrows in toothpaste." You covered your mouth with your hand and snorted slightly. "He'd come in to see if there was anything left beneath them, which, of course, there wasn't.. claimed it was just an experiment. I'd like to laugh and be more dignified about it upon looking back, but I struggle because he was only six and already a sod."
"Okay, you've proven there are in fact worse ways to wake up." You didn't make big deals out of it, but every time Mycroft welcomed you a little more into the stories of his youth, you can't help but feel your heart warm. It may not seem like much, but coming from Mycroft, a very private man who hasn't been treated the best over the years, it meant everything. You stretched and moved your hands up to rub your eyes, flinching a little as your fingers brushed against the bit of your head above your eyebrows. "Bugger." You winced, poking again and feeling a small lump.
"I was going to warn you but you laughed at my traumatic eyebrow removal story." You groaned and recalled your memory of last night and where you believe the bruise originated from.
"I jumped into bed last night sulking a bit that you wouldn't talk to me and uh.. misjudged.." Mycroft snickered slightly from your side, you swatted his arm. "Tit. I'm blaming you. This wouldn't have happened if you didn't go all Han Solo in carbonite on me." You spoke playfully, letting him know you weren't truly peeved.
"I thought you said it was cute?"
"That was clearly a concussion talking." You stretched once more and climbed out of the bed, walking over to a mirror above a dressing table and rolling your eyes. "Might need your special government powers to clear out the cafe else Ms Woodall will think we've had a domestic." Bernice Woodall, owner of one of your favourite little cafes settled on the outskirts of St James' Park was a very.. particular lady. She could have a good laugh one moment, and start a quarrel with a customer over the amount they stir their tea the next. But, you'd have to admit, she has one hell of an all day breakfast menu; you could practically taste one of her omelettes just by thinking about it, making your stomach growl loudly.
"I would but, if I am to be very honest, she genuinely scares me a little. I think she could overthrow MI5 so I daren't even try." You stood and moved into Mycroft's bedroom, grabbing your bag of clothes and picking through a few of the pairs of your jeans Anthea had brought and scanning through the t-shirts. Your fingers brushed over the creases of the shirt that had formed from being stuffed in the bag and frowned.
"Perhaps it would be more suitable for you to pop those in one of the chest of drawers? I'm sure I have at least one drawer empty.." Myc's voice came from behind you and you fell from your crouching position, clutching your heart.
"You and your bloody spy legs, you just scared the shit out of me." You stood back up, your pile of today's clothes in one hand and the bag of the rest in the other. "Giving me a drawer in your place already? Ooh Myc you are serious." You grinned playfully, following him as he guided you to a set of drawers in the opposite corner of the room. Mycroft halted and opened his mouth to make some kind of comment but you cut him off, placing your folded clothes inside the Edwardian furniture. "Only teasing.. I'm just glad you haven't kicked me out yet. Though I don't think my own bed will ever feel as comfortable as yours. I might not want to go back now you've spoilt me, you'll just have to be blunt when you're bored of me." You winked at him and carried your outfit into the en suite bathroom to get ready. Mycroft headed over to his wardrobe to pluck out his own clothes, electing to remain somewhat casual for your trip to breakfast with a pair of navy chinos and a lighter blue button up before muttering slightly under his breath.
"And if I never am?"
In the rare parts of his life where he allowed to imagine himself getting into a relationship, Mycroft had never expected himself to be overwhelmed with so much emotion so quickly, but with you it was almost as though he had no control; as though there had been so many pent up feelings over the years that they just seem to have exploded without any rational thought behind it. And whilst these were all new to Mycroft, and how he still wasn't entirely sure about everything that he felt when it came to things with you, the only thing he was positive about was that he didn't want it to go. And that meant not wanting you to leave. Which was ridiculous. You had just under two weeks left together until you would be needed back at work, and he would have to return to fighting on Britain's behalf, but the thought of you not being at home to greet him when he finished, or him not being able to pick you up in one of his cars from the Yard to take you both home made him feel a sense of disappointment. He shook himself from his thoughts when you emerged from the bathroom fully dressed.
"On second thoughts, I may take the risk. I'm not sure I can have members of the general public associating me with a Sex Pistols fan, no matter how humerous you may believe that top to be." You walked out proudly wearing your 'God Save the Queen' t-shirt with a grin. "You are aware tha-"
"That when the Sex Pistols released their song 'God Save the Queen' in 1977 it was around the same time of The Queen's silver jubilee and thus it was banned for a while on the premise of being 'bad gross taste'? You've only mentioned it every time I wear this shirt.. Though if your research extended enough then you'd know Paul Cook said it wasn't written specifically FOR the jubilee.. So if one of Lizzie's spies catch me in the act, I shall make a very sincere apology." Mycroft took his own clothes into the bathroom to get ready himself and scoffed.
"But I AM one of 'Lizzie's Spies'." He mused, leaning slightly against the doorframe after settling the outfit on the counter. You turned around on your heel and stood up on your tiptoes, pushed him more forcefully against the doorframe and placed your hands on Mycroft's cheeks, pressing your lips softly against his. His shock subsided before he kissed you tentatively, his hand resting on your lower back. You pulled away after a moment and ushered him into the bathroom to get ready, closing the door behind you and leaving him still slightly red faced and confused.
"Consider that my sincere apology." You headed over to the dresser and began to tie up your hair. "But hurry up, I'm starving." You called, moving the hairbrush too low and brushing against your bruise, making you wince loudly. From the bathroom, you heard Mycroft's voice before the sound of him brushing his teeth.
"Head?"
"Well I was thinking more along the lines of breakfast, but who knows what the day will bring." You heard the sound of Mycroft choking on his toothpaste and wished to whatever deity out there that you could have seen his face. Yes, you had promised to try and be less overbearing with your comments but he walked into that one. You grinned and sat down on the side of the bed, briefly scanning through your phone before Mycroft emerged, his face still burnt a red as deep as the burgundy sweatshirt he had paired with his outfit. The fact he had come out at all at least let you know that your joke hadn't taken it too far.
"You're a minx."
"And you wouldn't change it. Now let's go!"
---
Only 20 minutes later had you both be found sitting comfortably in Ms Woodall's cafe, tucking into your respective meals- with you noticing, but not commenting on, Mycroft eating comfortably until the last bite of toast was gone, a sense of pride warming within you. Not too long after, Bernice herself headed over to clear up your tables.
"I trust everything was up to standard?" She asked, piling your plates onto her little trolley and offering top ups on your drinks.
"Splendid as usual, Ms Woodall." Mycroft smiled, accepting his new cup of tea and cradling it comfortably between his long fingers.
"Still proving to be our favourite place for breakfast." You praised, your hand reaching out to fondly brush against Mycroft's before taking your coffee into hand. Bernice watched your movements and raised her brow knowingly.
"Took the pair of you long enough. I had been half tempted to abstain from feeding you here until I got one of you to say something, it had started making me feel a bit sick watching you eye each other up each time you'd get up to order something." You rested your elbow on the table, hand covering your mouth as you let out a laugh.
"Yes, well, I can't promise you the ogling will stop on my behalf." You teased.
"And why should it? Mr Holmes in those posh little outfits is enough to make anyone swoon." And with that she had headed back out into the kitchen again.
"There you go, Myc. Should anything happen to me, my replacement is only round the corner."
"Mmm, and she does make a rather good cup of tea. Perhaps I shouldn't wait that long." His lip raised slightly in a smirk as he took a sip of his hot beverage.
"Oh really? Need I start getting possessive; stand my ground?" Before Mycroft could quip back, Ms Woodall had returned with a plate of biscuits in hand.
"Means you've already answered my next question, anywho." She hummed, placing the plate down between you and perching on the corner of the table beside yours. The pair of you gave her a questioning look and she continued, pointing up to her own forehead. "Tony and I were just as bad at the start of our marriage. Anywhere and everywhere we could get our hands on each other, I ended up with bumps and scrapes from alleys, the backs of cars, even in that one restaurant toilet that time.." You choked on your coffee and Mycroft all but dropped his teacup. "Oh don't act so ignorant, even us oldies had sex in their time." Your eyes caught Mycroft's and you could see him stifling down a laugh, biting softly on his knuckle- which, in itself, shouldn't have been as attractive to you as it was, but it is what it is.
"And with that thought, we best be off. Got a movie date planned." You commented, coughing down your own laugh as Bernice continued.
"Though to be fair it never stopped, all that spontaneity. Even towards the end, he could be like a lad of nineteen with how it was. God the positions, you'd have mistaken me for a gymnast and he could last for ages. I'd just lie there wondering 'will this pleasure never end'?" You could feel tears prick at your eyes as your laughter began to break through. "And then of course once Tony passed a couple years ago it all stopped. Shame really, all those years together, ending how it did.. Though sometimes I'm not sure if it's him that I miss or his massiv-"
"Ms Woodall we really should be going, thank you for breakfast." Mycroft hastily threw a few £20 notes on the table, far too much to cover your meal but enough to distract Bernice while tugging your hand and beelining for the door. Once safely distanced from the apparent nymphomaniac cafe owner you had to stop in your tracks to let out a laugh, Mycroft's hand still in yours as you doubled over.
"I can't believe she said that! She's so open."
"Evidently." Mycroft's comment set you off again, his laughter following, ignoring how you caught the attention of a few people passing by. "I do hope you are in no rush for breakfast there again any time soon, I don't think I can look her in the eye for a good while."
"Still so sure on replacing me with her so soon? I think she'd break you."
"Or turn me into a whore." You snorted and settled back to walking.
---
"Drink?"
"Please. Tea, hold the sexual history."
"I'll try my very best, though, much like my tea, I imagine my list would be abysmal in comparison to old Ms Woodall." You flicked on the kettle, eager to replace the half drunk coffee you had discarded on the cafe table in your escape from listening about pensioner sex. "Will you load up the movie?"
"No. But I shall get the film ready to go.. How the American dialect found its way back to England will never fail to disappoint me." You had followed him into the room shortly after, mugs on the table and settled on the sofa beside Mycroft.
"You know, typically, when people elect for a movie day, they don't choose the tenth movie in the series to watch first." You grinned, tucking your legs beneath your body in an attempt to get comfortable. You continued your shuffling movements and heard Mycroft's voice.
"I believe we both agree that Carry On Cleo is the superior of the 31 movies for, well, a multitude of reasons." He trailed.
"I shan't object. It's sweet that you remember it's the first one we watched together.. Had it not been for you hearing Kenneth's famous 'Infamy, infamy' line persuading you to come over, I fear that I'd have been set up with one of Greg's mates by now, sitting in a pub nursing a G+T."
"I never said I remembered that."
"You didn't have to. You and I both know that your favourite was always Carry on Camping."
"Yes, well.. Opinions change with experience."
"Is this our equivalent of a patronus? Yours has changed and matched with mine? Very cute, Myc. Might I expect you in a 'Never Mind the Bollocks' shirt next week?" You teased, electing to lay down with your head lightly using Mycroft's thigh as a pillow, feeling grateful when he didn't shove you off with a comment about ruining the linen of his trousers, and instead took to softly brushing his fingers over your head, narrowly missing the purple bump each time.
"You'd have better chances of catching me running naked down the street."
"Is that a promise?" A flick to your forehead.
"Just play the bloody film."
---
By the time the film had finished, your cheeks had hurt from smiling and your eyelids had felt heavy. Whilst getting up at a reasonable hour had felt like an achievement this morning, the lack of sleep from the previous night was beginning to catch up to you.
"Myc? Would it be entirely improper to nap on the sofa when there are multiple reasonable beds upstairs before continuing our films?"
"Only about as improper as it is to have a midday nap when you're not a young child." You shifted your head from his lap and sat up, ignoring the fact that you actually did end up ruining the linen of his trousers with the crease of your skull.
"Let me rephrase. Mycroft, would you be willing to break your proper posh boy streak and nap with me on the sofa?"
"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to deviate from one's usual behaviours in order to satisfy those one holds dear."
"That's a yes, right? Good, lay down, else I may just collapse right at this moment." Mycroft's sofa certainly was a significantly bit bigger than those usually found in somebody's front room, but it was still nowhere near wide enough for two people to lay with distance. Even still, he followed your request and rotated his body, lifting his long legs to rest down the side of the sofa while you slid into the gap beside him. He eventually circled his arm beneath you and rested his hand on your hip, your face softly brushing against the comforting material of his jumper. "If you drop me, I will be holding you accountable." You mumbled, shifting your body closer to his. He merely hummed, his hand slightly bunching in your shirt and his arm tightening. "I'd always hoped you were secretly a cuddler."
"Make a point of it or tell Sherlock and I'll throw you off." You couldn't even think of a witty comeback before your slumber had taken over, the smell of Mycroft and the sounds of him breathing overstimulating your senses. Mycroft being a secret cuddler hadn't been as much of a shock to you as it probably should have, but you welcome it completely and feel incredibly thankful that he trusts you enough to let you be that close to him, to feel his body in such a way. And you would embrace that- and him- as long as he would let you.
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