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gumnut-logic · 3 years ago

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The Mechromancer

There may be more to this.

This started out as an attempt to write something completely different, but it was determined to do this instead. So you have a pile of fishTank, just a different pile than expected.

Warnings for angst, hurt/comfort.

Many thanks to @scribbles97 @janetm74 @tsarinatorment and @flyboytracy for all their help on this one. My brain fried in the middle of it and it is a little odd as a result. These wonderful peeps put up with an extremely whiney Nutty for a few days there so they should be congratulated for not hitting my over the head with something solid :D

I hope you enjoy this anyway.

-o-o-o-

They say mechromancy is born of the Earth, of rock and metal and the energies that drive the planet.

He can feel it.

Feel metal spinning as it is cut and cries out in its making, its shaping, its becoming. It resonates in his soul as he gives birth to a new creation.

He pulls the new shape off the lathe, the smell of hot metal curling in his nostrils. A rough edge catches skin and pricks a scratch.

Red iron smudges grey steel, metal on metal.

Virgil wipes it away with a stained rag and the cog gleams in the light of his workshop.

-o-o-o-

Gordon’s days were grey.

At first, waking was pain and fog. Everything was broken. The fine instrument he had built his body into no longer worked and was little more than a source of ongoing agony.

The doctors were brutally honest. He could not expect more than a life of grey walls and kindly nursing staff for the rest of his life.

That’s if he had one. There was always the opportunity of a sudden infection and an early termination of that agreement.

His family was there.

Always.

Grandma was in charge, no matter what the hospital thought. You didn’t cross his grandmother and survive. The fact there was a looming grey-eyed and very wealthy Jefferson Tracy gave much more weight to Doctor Tracy’s demands.

His father was there.

This was something both expected and unexpected. Father was a very busy man, but each time Gordon woke in those early days, his eyes would clear to find the silver-grey suited millionaire somewhere in the room. He didn’t say much, not being a man to show a great deal of emotion, but the fact he was there and there so often said enough.

Said how dire things really were.

The most consistent presence was Scott, of course. The man’s cane was heard in his sleep. Sometimes Gordon wanted to reach out and shake it from his brother’s grasp and break it in two across his knee.

But it was a fantasy. Because not only did he not have the strength to grab the cane, he no longer had any knees to break anything.

His legs were gone.

The thought flickered through his mind and he shied away.

Alan…Alan tried to cheer him up while trying not to cry himself. It was heartbreaking.

John reached out to brush fingers through his hair, a single tear falling unacknowledged down his cheek.

Gordon was in so much pain himself and yet also the cause of so much more. It tore at his heart.

Had his sole purpose in life been reduced to a bane on his family?

And Virgil…

He dreamt of his brother. His loving and gentle mechanic brother.

But he never saw him.

In the early days after Gordon had first opened his eyes after the accident, he had asked after Virgil. Scott’s eyes had been full of…something. His eldest brother always kept up his military stance, hiding his true thoughts should they present a vulnerability and those defences were ever so thick at the mere mention of Virgil.

Even in his bleary, pain-filled state, Gordon sensed there was something wrong, but he didn’t have the strength to pursue the question.

His days were awash with painkilling concoctions of his grandmother’s recommendations that took his mind along with the pain. Distorted versions of both his father and Scott were his earliest memories after the accident.

And the dreams…a sense of heat, holding him down, burning, preventing his escape. His own fear overlapped by someone else’s desperation and panic. Flame burning down his nerve endings demanding he stay.

Stay.

Whispers in his mother’s voice.

Denial and determination.

Ever so hot and hurting.

They always ended in such a flare of light and sound, he woke up yelling.

And Scott would be there. Words of reassurance and love.

Gordon always asked for Virgil after the dreams. They meant something, he was sure of it and they had something to do with Virgil.

And Scott never quite answered.

-o-o-o-

He stokes the fire to exactly the right temperature, the coals glowing eye-blinding white, forcing his goggles onto his eyes. His skin pricks with the heat.

Cahelium requires it.

Metal hits flame in a shower of sparks and sucks up the energy, shining as brightly as the sun. He feels it breathe in, draw in the life-giving energy of creation.

His hammer shapes with each strike, the metal thinning as he bends it to his will. Muscles flexing as he swings, the energy of his body fighting, forcing form.

Sweat trickles down his brow as he frowns with the effort. His leather apron protects his vulnerable body, but the sparks still sneak through to embed in the bare skin of his arms and burn holes in his shirt.

He doesn’t care. He can feel the metal with his mind and it is becoming.

Scars in the making only record the process.

-o-o-o-

Days turn into weeks and still Virgil didn’t appear.

Scott had excuses but none of them rang true. Gordon created all kinds of scenarios in his head. Maybe Virgil was injured. Or sick. Maybe he had died. All of the above terrified him until one day while they were alone, he yelled at his big brother, demanding to know.

Only then did he get to see Virgil.

Scott wheeled him in.

Gordon stared. His engineer brother looked terrible.

“W-what happened?”

Virgil’s hands were swaddled in bandages and he was literally wilting in the chair. “Hey, Gords.” His eyelids were drooping.

Gordon looked up at Scott and his big brother’s eyes dropped to the floor.

“What happened?!” His body was busted but there was nothing wrong with his brain bar the concoctions they kept stabbing him with.

Virgil reached over and lay a bandaged hand on Gordon’s chest. “I’m well. I promise.”

“You look awful, Virg. What happened to your hands?” He stared at the swathed fingers on his broken body. Virgil’s magic fingers. His eyes widened, dreams and reality suddenly merging. “What did you do?!”

“Gordon…” His name was weariness itself, his brother’s usual baritone barely there. “You were dying. I had to.”

Gordon’s eyes shot to his brother’s bloodshot brown, so like his own. “You fix machines.”

“The human body is only another type of machine.”

“You fixed me?”

Virgil shook his head, his eyes closing. Scott, who had remained silent, knelt down beside the engineer in his chair and placed an arm around Virgil’s shoulders.

Virgil’s hand was still on Gordon’s chest. He fought with the sudden need to want it gone, yet desperately wanted to hold it in his own.

He settled for slowly, ever so slowly moving his right hand to land on top of Virgil’s as gently as he could.

“What did you do?”

“I fixed enough.” An exhausted exhale. “Just enough.”

“What has it done to you?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit. You look half dead.”

Virgil closed his eyes again. “I am well, Gordon. Don’t worry about it.”

Gordon turned to Scott, whose eyes again dropped to the floor. His big brother swallowed.

Back to Virgil. “You are a pathetic liar. You know that.”

Virgil’s eyes joined Scott’s on the floor. “I’m sorry, Gordon.”

“What?! It’s obvious that you foolishly did something that might have saved my ass, but trashed yours. Scott, tell me! What the hell did he do to himself?”

Virgil straightened up and a more familiar fire flared. “I did what had to be done. And I would do it again.”

“Then why the hell are you apologising?”

Virgil shrunk back and shook his head, but didn’t say anything further. If anything, he wilted in his chair further.

“Virgil…” It was an exhalation of his brother’s name. His eyes darted again to Scott seeking answers. His eldest brother still had a protective arm around Virgil’s shoulders. Whatever had happened, chances were it was bad.

Blue eyes looked up and caught Gordon’s. Scott’s lips thinned and his jaw tightened.

Very bad.

Virgil’s hand on Gordon’s chest was trembling.

“Tell me you will be well.” He begged Virgil to look at him so he could see the truth.

As if summoned, that dark-haired head rose, bloodshot, brown eyes caught his. “I will.” A swallow. “I promise.”

“And your hands?”

“They will heal.”

“And be as they were?” Please.

“They will heal.” It was a repetition, almost a self-reassurance.

Gordon swallowed hard, almost terrified to look beneath those bandages to discover exactly what his brother had done trying to ‘fix’ Gordon’s machine.

Virgil was suddenly pushing himself to his feet. Scott hurried to steady him. “Virgil, what are you doing?”

But their brother didn’t answer. He took a shaky step towards the bed and, leaning over, wrapped his arms as best he could around Gordon without disturbing him. “So good to see you, Fish.” There was an emotional shake in his voice and that tremble in his hand proved to be system wide.

Gordon lifted one hand the best he could and rested his temple against Virgil’s. “Glad to be here.” His voice was suddenly hoarse. “Thank you.”

There was a muffled sound in Gordon’s pillow he couldn’t identify. Then a rough, but firm, “Anytime.” Virgil shifted and pushed himself up a little, enough to catch Gordon’s eyes. “Anytime.”

And Scott was hauling Virgil up and back into his chair.

Gordon didn’t want his brother to go, but the man was sagging where he sat, alarming Gordon even more. A glance at Scott and he encountered that same worry there.

“Time to go back to bed, Virgil.” Their eldest brother secured him in the chair and unlatched the brakes.

If Gordon could have, he would have stretched out his arm. “Be well, Virgil.”

His weary brother nodded once and Scott pushed him out the door, leaving Gordon to stare at where his brother had been and what he had done.

-o-o-o-

He lines up the fine golden metal cladding and, with a punch he cast himself, embosses a detailed etch of an octopus into the hot cahelium-brass.

Beside it, he chooses to place a shark, its fins a sharp dent in the metal.

His breath is evaporated as he peers closely before punching in a twirled sea shell.

His fingers ache to touch the metal.

On the desk beside him lays the mechanisms. Setting the section of the cladding aside to cool, he returns to the final touches, the fine tuning of the gears and the delicate gyroscopes that will balance movement.

His fingers flicker as he reaches for information.

There is a thin screwdriver in his mouth, held across his lips as his hands correct and make minor adjustments. The metal tastes like possibilities.

His fingers twitch. There is still stiffness in his skin. They remember the feel of his brother’s broken body. Feel what was being lost.

What he was losing.

The heat needed to forge, to fix, had been unbearable, and it took from him, so much.

Now he is different. Part of him is with his brother, keeping him alive, like a donation of a body part. A donation of part of his soul.

Given willingly.

Virgil sighs and returns to the forge to shape more cladding.

The metal is warm under his fingertips.

-o-o-o-

FIN?

#thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #Gordon Tracy #Virgil Tracy #an attempt at Steampunk #Where there be dragons AU

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yee-fxcking-haw · 4 years ago

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What Happens Next?

A/N: Y'ALL I FUCKIN DID IT I FINISHED THE DAMN FIC. So I definitely bit off more than I could chew by making my first fic a multipart with so much fucking emotion and such a busy plot but lol we did it! Thank you to everyone who has read the story and asked to be tagged and sent me kind words I love y'all so damn much.

Warnings/Rating: 18+ explicit content, very soft romantic smut, unprotected sex, almost a blowjob, James finishes inside the reader. A lot of fluffy love making petty much a great time.

Summary: In the sixth and final chapter of this series, James and you finally figure your shit out. You have to stop running from each other, what you have is far too brilliant...

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Part Five

Playlist

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Part Six

Annie's Diner

"I'm a nurse! I'm a nurse, let me see him!" A soft voice calls out over your shoulder. James' head turns towards the voice, his eyes fluttering back open.

"James?" You ask urgently.

"Relax doll, I was just restin' my eyes for a second. Fightin' off assholes is hard work."

He slowly raises to brace himself on his elbows, wincing a little while he does.

The nurse comes around and drops to her knees on the other side of him. She's a pretty little thing with honey colored hair and bright brown eyes.

"Just give us one second dear, I'm certain he's alright I just need to check for a concussion."

You don't answer, you just nod and get up to turn to the small crowd that's begun to disperse, seemingly disappointed with the lack of action.

This is an opportunity for you to finally take a deep breath and process everything that's happene. Air fills your lungs, shoulders rising and tensing for a moment. You release and let your posture fall back down, letting yourself portray outwardly how drained you feel inside. You've gone from hating James and being terrified of him, to being saved by him, to understanding him to… what now? If everything he's said is true, then everything that happened between you two is just as meaningful as it was before prom. Although, misunderstanding or not, it still hurt like hell. You should be more cautious, right? You shouldn't just run back into his arms like everything's fine, even though it is.

You turn to look back at him, long legs sprawled on the pavement while the alleged nurse checks his pulse and his pupils. He's joking about something, you can tell by the way his eyebrows are sitting higher and the lopsided smile on his face. He's propped up on his elbows, strong arms straining against his shirt. The image sends you back to the afternoon that changed it all, you remember his solid body collapsing onto your lap in a dramatic display of feigned illness. Your lips twitch into a small smile at the thought. You shake your head and walk back towards them.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you look worried about me doll." He jests, the nurse turns to glance at you and smiles fondly.

"Your fella is just fine dear, try and keep him on a shorter leash next time." She chuckles as she stands and dusts off her pretty green skirt, James follows, wincing as he stands.

You feel your cheeks heat up at the implication that James is yours, while he wears a very satisfied smirk at the idea. You swallow thickly and give her a silent nod. James thanks her sweetly for checking him, she says something back to him but you've completely zoned out. Her comment has senr you into a state of utter confusion. Is he your fella? No, you never established that. He did call you his girl though, so that would make him your fella. On top of that, what happened on the roof after Coney Island doesn't just happen between friends, not even friends with benefits. The way he held you so tightly, the way he littered kisses down your spine. Those aren't things you share with someone that doesn't belong to you.

The nurse politely ducks away to go back into the diner with the rest of the onlookers. Leaving you and James to stand alone in the dimly lit parking lot. His jaw looks much worse for wear, the skin is so angry and red. He'll definitely have a bruise, an ugly one at that. James lets out a long sigh, staring down at you with those big blue eyes. Despite it all, the idiot is still smiling. You scowl up at him, you cross your arms and lean to one side, refusing to let him crack you.

"You mad at me?" He asks timidly, he gives you an exaggerated pout while he lifts a hand to tuck some hair behind your ear.

You don't say a word. Of course you're mad at him. He scared you half to death, all for what? Just so he could feel like the tough guy? To prove a point to you? To prove a point to himself? He must have known the fight would end with him beat or worse and he has gall to ask if you're mad?

"Hey." He breathes, his hand comes to rest under your chin so he can tilt your face up with his knuckles. The gesture makes your heart flutter wildly.

"I get it, that was stupid, could've gotten hurt much worse and all that." He says, his eyes are gentle and attentive.

You huff and blink up at him, waiting for the rest of his explanation.

"He just- he came in there talkin' all that shit about you bein' his. It pissed me off is all, you're not his. You're not really anybody's- I mean, I'd like to make you mine- but not in the way he meant. I don't want to own you, I wanna love you, doll. I wanna keep you safe and make you laugh and get my ass beat in skee ball and do all that other cheesy crap. I know I fucked up so badly, but baby please-"

He doesn't get a chance to finish his little rant, the second he calls you baby your hands fly to the sides of his face. As it always does with him, your body moves separate from your mind. You smash your lips into his and you feel his hands settle on your waist, clutching you like you're going to float away at any second. That same baffling electricity thrums through your body as your lips move against each other. The rhythm of the kiss is like an echo of the one you shared on the roof. It has the same tide like push and pull, each of you giving and taking from each other in perfect unison. His lips are soft and urgent against yours, his grip solid and grounding. His hands slide towards each other behind you so his arms can find their home around your waist. The feeling makes you sigh against his lips. After months of being without this feeling, after only having it once, all you've done is want it back and now you have it again.

The kiss only breaks so you can both breathe, foreheads still pressed together, wanting to stay as connected as possible. He smiles down at you, it's a beautiful dopey grin. The look he's giving you makes a shiver run up your spine.

"You wanna go skinny dipping?" You ask, absolutely shocked at your own words.

What the hell? Did Molly fucking possess you? He scoffs and ducks down so his eyes are level with yours.

"Do I wanna what?!" He starts cracking up, and you can't help but join him, the absurdity of it all getting to you.

You can't help but think why the hell not. After all of this, all the confusion and the hurt, you two deserve a night like you shared months ago. Maybe you're an idiot, maybe you're only acting based on an emotional response to what James has done for you tonight. But fucking hell, why not just put it all behind you and live a little? James wants to be yours, he wants you to be his. You need to just let it be and stop fighting the way you both keep hurtling towards each other. So yeah, you want to go skinny dipping. It's the most impulsive, idiotic thing you can think of, and you've always wanted to try it.

"I think you know my answer." He chuckles.

"Let go then." You say quickly, turning on your heels so you can head to the truck before you change your mind.

"Woah kid wait up." He calls out to you while he laughs as he follows.

You reach the truck and swing the door open so you can hop in, he scrambles in as you frantically shove the keys in and crank it into gear.

"Hey." His soft voice snaps you out of your manic state. Your eyes dark to his and you feel your breathing slow down some.

"How 'bout we save the skinny dipping for another time?" He asks, voice soft and steady.

You just nod, becoming aware of how hard you were trying to be light-hearted and fun to mask how overwhelmed you're feeling.

"We don't have to move so fast, doll. We did last time and it didn't go so well, I don't wanna mess up this time." He says, his silvery eyes don't leave yours for a second.

Your head moves up and down silently again, you pull some air into your lungs slowly. He's right. You're trying too hard to make everything ok again. You just want to feel like you did on the roof, you want to be free of all the shit that's happened. James has a point though, you've both learned what happens when things move too quick for you both to keep track of it all. You have to be careful with it this time. Careful and boring are often mistakingly paired together, but not with James. It's undeniable that what you have with him is irreplaceable, which makes it all the more critical that you both handle this like it's made of glass.

"So, what do you want to do?" Your voice is so small, almost unrecognizable.

"I want to dance with you." He states, making your heart soar.

"Like, back at the dance hall?" You ask, the stress evident in your voice.

"God no, we can go to my house." He says it like it's obvious.

"Won't your family mind?" The idea of meeting them now makes you extremely anxious. It would be rather awkward to show up to meet his mother for the first time while he's wearing a shiner you half gave him.

"My Ma and my sister are at my aunt's house." He explains, his voice is laced with a tentative tone.

"Oh…" You exhale gently, understanding the situation.

"Only if you want to, I promise I'll behave." His tone shifts to something slightly taunting.

You can't help but smile, he's always quite the charmer.

"What fun would that be?" You chuckle, "Take me home, Bucky."

The nickname makes him smile in the most dazzling way, it stays glued to his face almost the whole way to his house.

James' House

You pull up to the front of an adorable little white house. It's very sweet looking, very simple and quaint. As the engine dies you glance over at James, he's looking at the house with a very solemn, spaced out gaze. Instinctively, you reach out and grab his hand, sliding your fingers between his own.

"I know…" You say as gently as you can. It's his dad, you know because you wear that look far too often. James just nods slowly, closing his eyes for a moment. You don't dare speak again, you just hold his hand. You don't need to say anything, you don't ever want people to say anything when you have the same feeling. All you can do is sit and understand him. Your chest fills with a horrible ache at the sight, but you're also filled with a strange relief. You aren't alone, and he isn't either. You have each other, you know each other, you get to love each other.

He lets the air fall out of his chest, face softening as he does.

"Thank you, doll." His eyes meet yours and he offers you a weak smile.

"Let's go inside." He says. He walks around to help you out of the truck, offering his hand like a gentleman. You want to slap it away out of instinct, but tonight is different.

He helps you down then wraps his hand around yours as he leads you up the sidewalk.

Before he opens the door he presses a kiss on the side of your head. It's quick and soft, and very different from the way he's kissed you before. Every other time it's felt like he prepared for it, and you had time to brace for it. This time it feels like he's used to doing it, like it's a natural thing.

The house is exactly what you would anticipate the home of a widow to look like. Decorated with lace doilies, soft blankets draped on the couch, and delicate lamps that cast a fuzzy yellow haze over the room. The living room is right off of the front door, and the kitchen is just an extension of it. A cute little staircase is on the left wall leading up to what you can only imagine is an equally quaint upstairs.

James walks confidently into his home, straight for the record player. As he fiddles with it you wander over to the fireplace. The mantle is littered in beautiful family photos, just like at your house. His father is in many of them, kissing his mom, holding a young James on his shoulder, cradling a baby you assume must be James' sister. He was handsome like James, but their faces aren't identical, you can see where his face is a balance of the two individuals. Your chest burns with remorse, knowing that these pictures serve as the only thing they have left of the man they all loved so well.

You startle just a little when James wraps his arms around your waist from behind, but relax when he presses a kiss into the side of your neck.

"It's alright, doll." He mumbles. You don't know if he says it for you or for him, but it doesn't matter. You let yourself sink further into the comfort of being known so well by James.

The music pops into existence, a gentle rhythm fills the room. The song is made of soft trumpets and strings, it's a beautiful, romantic melody. Something you would expect old lovers to sway to in their living room. You and James have the lovers part down, you just need to grow old and have your own living room. Is that even in the cards for you two? You sure as hell hope it is. You remember your realization on the roof that night, thinking about how if love isn't like what you two have, you don't want to love at all.

The feeling suffocates you as he spins you around in his arms. His eyes see right through you as his hands find their home on your waist while your arms slide around his neck.

"I love you doll, I never stopped." He breathes with an urgent look in his eyes.

He starts to sway with you around the living room as you gaze up at him completely dumbfounded. Of course he loves you, and you love him. Yes, you have so much left to learn about each other, but my God has James stolen your heart. Ever since you two left that classroom, you've been consuming each other's thoughts. You've been willing yourselves to try and understand the electricity that sparks between you. It's been so fucking messy, but now that you're in his arms again, dancing like an old married couple, you finally understand it all.

"I love you too…" You say it so softly it's almost not heard, but James catches it.

That dazzling smile spreads across his face, it's contagious nature making your own lips split into a grin.

"Would my outstanding skills in the bedroom have anything to do with that?" He says with a sickly sweet voice.

"James!" You laugh and slap his arm. He throws his head back to let out a playful laugh, the sound sets off a swarm of butterflies in your stomach.

"I wouldn't know what your skills are like in the bedroom anyway, I only know what they're like on a roof." You joke.

"We could change that." He says, his voice taking on a much lower tone.

You both freeze and stare into each other's eyes. The air around you feels so thick and the room starts to blur a little, everything except James.

Then you're on each other. Your lips crash together and your hands snag whatever they can. You let out a whiney noise from the back of your throat, which only spurs James on more. His hand grabs at your waist and he licks at your bottom lip. His actions inspire a wonderful heat to settle in your stomach, the feeling gives you confidence you've never felt before. You slide your hands up his chest to grasp his collar, silently begging him to come closer. The two of you break for air for only a second, eyes glued to each other as you pant and try to comprehend the fire growing between you.

"What are you waiting for, Bucky?" You tease.

A wild look spreads in his eyes and a wide grin overtakes his handsome face. Before you can make another witty comment, James brings his strong hands to the backs of your thighs and hoists you up so you can wrap your legs around him. You let out a shocked giggle but gladly welcome his choice to hold you like this. Now level with his face, you throw your arms around his shoulders and place a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose. He wrinkles his face dramatically and let's out a low chuckle.

"I'm gonna drive you wild, doll." He responds with all the confidence in the world.

Of course, his words make your chest ache with desire, your thighs involuntarily squeeze him a little tighter. With the natural push and pull that you two have, his body responds to your actions without thought. He lets his hands slide up to hold your thighs dangerously close to the swell of your ass, fire spreading to your center as he does.

"That's some big talk." You mumble, blinking at him slowly.

"It sure is." His eyes wander down to your lips, not even a second passes before you're on each other again. He damn near kisses the breath out of your lungs this time, his soft, skilled lips make you head spin and all you can do is hold on tight.

"Can I take you to my room?" He asks against your lips. His voice has a gentle, begging tone to it that makes you shiver.

"Please." You sigh as you let your hands slide into the soft hair on the back of his head. He kisses you hard and walks blindly up the stairs, then he's kicking the door open to what you can only assume is his room. You feel your body falling then feel your back meet a soft mattress. Bucky settles easily between your legs and your heart races when you feel how hard he is already. His hot mouth is on your neck instantly, painting your skin with needy kisses.

"Can I take this off of you?" He mumbles while he pulls at the fabric of your dress.

You can't help but giggle at his enthusiasm.

"Gettin' right into it, huh?" You say.

He brings his hand up so he can hold your face and run his thumb across your cheek bone. His eyes are soft but determined as he studies your face.

"I don't wanna waste any more time." He says simply, the phrase is loaded with months of longing. His confession dazzles you, leaving you laying there with no idea how to breathe. All you can do is nod in understanding and revel in the feeling of his wet kisses against your neck again. He gently hikes your dress up to your waist, then quickly brings his hands back down so he can run them up your thighs. His hands settle on your hips, thumbs pressing on the bones so he can pin you down slightly as he rolls his hips against your center.

Your hands instinctively claw at his broad back as a hiss leaves your lips.

"Let me get on top." You sigh, completely shocking yourself with your boldness.

You feel him smile against your collar bone before his hands glide up to hold your waist. He flips you both over with ease, granting you your wish without argument. You catch your breath as you settle on his lap, hands splayed across his chest.

"I'm all yours, doll." His eyes fall down your body sinfully, making your chest seize up and your legs squeeze around him.

You lean down to capture his lips in yours again, sighing contentedly when he moves against you like he did when you kissed for the first time on the roof.

"I missed you." You mutter against his mouth.

"Let's make up for that, yeah?" He replies quickly as he moves to pull your dress over your head. You lift your arms and let him undress you as you sit back. Soon the dress is out of the way and his warm hands are holding your waist again, thumbs brushing up and down against your skin. You become suddenly ashamed of your lackluster underwear and you feel your cheeks heat up as you watch James' eyes skate down your figure. As if he senses you unease, he sits up and snakes his arms around your waist. He presses a delicate kiss into the swell of each of your breasts as you card your fingers through his hair.

"You're so perfect." He whispers against your skin.

"Can I take this off?" He asks, bringing his thumbs up to hook his fingers around your bra straps.

Somehow, everything about this feels even more innocent than the first time you two made love. Maybe it's the knowledge that you don't have to show off, talk dirty, or have all the hot moves in order to impress each other. You're both just enchanted by the presence of one another. Finally, you're both able to just be together. There's no fear of what people will say about you in school tomorrow, no terrifying rumor hanging over your head. Just you and James, able to lose yourselves completely in this wonderful moment you've found.

You carefully undress each other, leaving tender kisses on any newly exposed skin, whispering sweet nothings as well as declarations of devotion. You cherish every second that passes as you explore each other's bodies again. Soon you're both fully exposed to each other, your hands grasp desperately at his shoulder as soon as you feel his erect length graze your core. You think back to how his lips felt between your legs, and you immediately want to repay the favor. You slink down his body until you settle between his legs. His abs tense as you slide your palms up his muscular thighs.

You know Bucky is big, especially after last time, but being face to face with his dick makes you realize his size is genuinely intimidating. He looks beautiful like this, all flushed and hard. His tip is a pretty shade of dark pink, similar to his lips, and there's a small bead of precum leaking out of his slit. The sight makes you clench your thighs and lick your lips.

"See somethin' you like?" He teases.

"I sure do." You flirt back, wasting no time in wrapping your hand around his length to give him one slow pump. He throws his head back with as you bring your lips to his tip and give it a chaste kiss.

"Tell me if I do something wrong, please." You say, the tremble in your voice revealing just how nervous you really are.

James shoots up instantly, grabbing the wrist of the hand that's around his dick while the other comes up to cup your face. His thumb slides across your cheek bone affectionately as he stares at you with his kind blue eyes.

"Doll, if you're not ready for that, don't do it." His voice is like rich hot chocolate, spreading through your body and warming every nerve.

"But, last time you- I figure I owed you…" It makes sense in your head, but by the look he gives you it doesn't make any sense to him.

"Baby," He breathes out, leaning in to kiss your forehead, "Come here."

With gentle hands he pulls you into his lap so you can straddle him while he takes your face in his hands, gazing up at you with intensity.

"Anything I do for you, is because I want to. You don't owe me a damn thing. If you're ever not ready for something you tell me, and we can talk about it, ok?" His voice has a hint of urgency to it, like he can't stress the words enough.

You nod silently as you try to understand the man beneath you. Your brain desperately claws through your vocabulary to find the words to best describe the beautiful human being you've fallen for. All you can come up with is something terribly insufficient, but incredibly accurate. He's kind. He's a "heart if gold" kind of guy. Under the charm, the handsome face, the quick witted humor, James Barnes is the kindest person you've ever met.

Your lips are on his before he can say anything else, following that involuntary reaction you've developed whenever you're around him. He kisses you back as fiercely as you kiss him, heavy breaths falling from his mouth as you work against one another. You can't help but whimper when you feel the hot skin of his dick slide along your drenched core.

"Make love to me, James, please-" You beg against his lips.

All he can manage is a moan against your mouth as he reaches down between you to grab himself so he can get lined up at your entrance. He opens his mouth to say something, but it's stolen from him as you inch down to slide the tip in. A beautiful, lustful sigh leaves his puffy lips as you do. It's still a harsh stretch for your walls, but this time you can anticipate it and welcome it. Slowly, you descend until he's in you completely. As soon as he's bottomed out you lean your forehead on his shoulder and let out a pitiful whine.

"You ok, doll?" He asks, nudging his nose against your jaw.

"I'm good, you're just so big…" You sigh. His grip on your waist tightens and you feel him twitch inside you.

"Careful sweetheart, don't want this ego getting any bigger." He teases, earning an airy giggle from you.

You brace yourself by holding his shoulders, rolling your hips tentatively. He kisses your neck when you do so and slides his arms around your waist, so you must be doing something right. You mimic the movement with a little more confidence this time. You can't help but bring your head up and send James a nervous glance, and he's more than willing to reassure you.

"That's good baby, that feels good." He says with a voice like honey as he skates his lips across your neck.

His praising words make your insides melt, spurring you on as you keep rolling against him. The way the soft skin of his dick moves against your soaked walls in euphoric. Your hands cling to each other, lips kiss where the can, short breaths fall from your mouth. All of it creates a truly beautiful atmosphere. It's nothing like the urgent, frantic mood you had last time. This doesn't feel like two teenagers who can't wait to see somebody naked for the first time. This feels like two people who want to be uncovered by each other.

His hands slide so he can spread his palms across your damp back and you shiver from the feather soft intimacy of the motion. Your forehead falls against his and your eyes lock.

"You're incredible." You sigh as brilliant sparks of pleasure start to build in your core.

You slowly build the pace of your hips until you're rocking against him with a rhythm that makes his nails claw at your back as he groans and pants. He's so deep inside you, reaching and rubbing against every sweet spot you have.

"Fuck- that's perfect doll- so fucking perfect." His voice has climbed in pitch slightly, he sounds almost whiney.

Your head falls to his shoulder, you shove your mouth against his collarbone in an attempt to muffle a pitiful sob as it shakes your abdomen. The feelings are all so fucking intense, your eyes screw shut as your walls start to flutter. Your chest aches as your head spins, completely incapable of comprehending all of the sensations drowning you in this moment.

"James- James I'm gonna-" Your words are cut off completely as one of his strong arms easily cradles you so he can flip you onto your back. You hit the mattress and he doesn't give you a single second to catch your breath before he's rocking his hips against yours.

"Fucking hell." You huff out as he plants his hands on either side of your head so he can bare down even more when he thrusts.

"I wanna see you, wanna see that pretty face." Both of you moan uncontrollably when you spread your legs even more to give him better access. Soon he's hitting some rapturous spot deep within you, setting off every nerve in your body.

Tears gather in your eyes and it takes every ounce of self control you have to not succumb to the desire to start crying beneath him. His body is moving so beautifully above you, every muscle working to give you everything he has. Your eyes burn with the tears you refuse to let fall as you pull your bottom lip into your mouth to keep another sob caged inside you.

"Baby, don't hide anything." He says with a broken voice as he drops to his elbows so he can bring his face closer to your own.

"Cry if you need to, I got you." He punctuates his sentence with a stunning moan, and it absolutely breaks you. Your body trembles as you finally release all the emotion you've been suppressing. Your back arches and you finally let the tears cascade down the sides of your face. The sight of you falling apart beneath him, so fragile and overstimulated, it motivates him even more. His pace increases as he chants nonsense phrases of adoration to you.

He tells you how beautiful you are, how tight you feel, how good you are for him. All while your entire body quakes for him and his magnificent pace. You don't want to say his thrusts are hard, that word seems so utterly insufficient for how he's making love to you right now. His movements are committed, he fills you up with every push in and leaves you wanting so much more every time he draws back out.

"Baby you feel so good- fuck- please don't stop." You beg him as your cunt starts to pulse around him again, body edging towards that blinding release.

"No fuckin' way, I'm never gonna stop." He pants while his thick eyebrows push towards each other as his face crumples into a look of intense focus.

He braces himself on one arm so he can snake a skilled hand between your bodies, thumb finding your swollen clit almost immediately. It hits you immediately, almost before he even touches your sensitive bud. Your body anticipates his touch and sends itself over the edge, and my God it's fucking brilliant. Your pussy grips onto his cock as it slides in and out, your hands claw at his hot skin as his name falls from your lips. You sing him a pitiful song, made of incoherent swearing and plenty of crying.

"That's it sweet girl, give it to me- shit you're squeezin' the life outta me." You barely retain the words as he spits them out between frantic breaths as he chases his own high.

In one fluent motion, James flips your legs over each of his shoulders. He grabs the meat of your hips and lifts your pelvis off the bed as he brings his torso upright so he can settle back on his knees. If you thought you were crying before, you were fucking wrong. You scream out as tears flood your face, you can't tell if you're hurtling into another orgasm before your first has even finished, or if it's all just one long, mind numbing climax. Regardless, it's too good to be true. Every inch of you tingles and clenches as James snaps his hips into you, the angle sends fluorescent jolts of pleasure into your cunt and up your abs.

"Yeah doll, keep cumming for me, you feel so fuckin' perfect." He tosses his head back as he nearly shouts your name.

Your body starts to cool down just enough to provide some clarity. You're still twitching and tears are still rolling, but you at least have the wits to throw some praises at him. It's the least you can do when he's working so hard to make you fall apart.

"Fuck James, you made me cum so hard." Your words have an affect on him instantly, his fingertips bite at your flesh as hips tense and you feel his cock twitch inside you.

"You make me feel so good baby, you drive me fuckin' crazy." He lets go of your hips and throws your legs apart so he can fall on top of you again. He presses his forehead against yours before his lips meet your own so he can kiss you like it's the last time he'll ever have the chance.

"Let me feel you cum James- fuck- do it inside me, I want you to cum inside me." Your hands are at the sides of his face, thumbs rubbing his temples affectionately as you lose your mind.

"Oh baby- shit doll- I'm gonna- oh my God- Fuck!" With that final exclamation he buries himself inside you, enchanting moans fall from his full lips as he tenses and fills you. You hold still and focus on the feeling of his cock pulsing inside you as he moans above you. His sounds are so full of relief and what must be exhaustion. Your eyes flutter open to observe him while he finishes. His eyebrows are high with his eyes shut and his lips parted as he tries to catch his breath while his orgasm fizzles out. His eyelids slowly peel apart and soon you're both watching each other. You're completely enthralled by the work of art above you, and he is entirely captured by the muse below him.

Slowly, like he doesn't want to ever leave, he inches his softening length out of you. You hate the feeling of him leaving your body, you hate how empty you feel. He presses a fond kiss to your forehead while he smooths some of your sweaty hair down.

"Don't move." He whispers. Then he's off of the bed and through his bedroom door, you assume to find something to get you both cleaned up.

Your body is still buzzing from every moment you've just shared with him, you gingerly roll to your side and pull the sheets up against your naked form. You pay little mind the mess spilling from your core, ignorant to the possible consequences it might have. You glance around his room, taking note of all the baseball cards, the toy cars, and the dirty sneakers. The room is bathed in the dull yellow streetlights, giving it a glow that seems otherworldly. It all does. Especially James.

He reappears with a washcloth and a glass of water. The sight makes your heart swell immeasurably, he's still naked but it doesn't strike you as anything to be bashful about. It's all of him, all of James and his unmatched beauty. It feels natural to be this exposed with each other, it feels right.

"Such a gentleman." You tease as he walks towards the bed so he can sit on the edge.

"For you? Of course." His smile is as dazzling as always while he hands you the glass of water. You prop yourself up on your elbows so you can take the glass and sip it slowly. Thankful for the relief the cold liquid brings your exhausted throat.

"Spread those gorgeous legs." He says as he takes the glass back from you so he can set it on the nightstand.

"Round two already?" You joke.

His laugh is full and rich, it spreads through your veins and makes adoration bubble in your chest.

"Not yet, doll." He presses the cloth between your folds to clean up his mess, the sensation makes you jump a little, but he's done as quickly as he's started. The cloth joins a pile of dirty clothes in the corner after he tosses over his shoulder, then he's climbing back into bed with you. He opens his arms once he's on his back beside you. Naturally, you settle into his side and lay your head on his chest. His fingers trace along your spine as he kisses the crown of your head.

"You're a beautiful little thing." He mumbles, voice heavy with a sleepy tone.

"You're perfect, just perfect." It almost sounds like he's talking in his sleep, so you glance up to check.

He's wide awake, glacial eyes piercing your own as he gazes down at you.

"Thank you, for all of this." You say. By all of it, you mean for the love, for the spark of life, for the precious bond you've found. Somehow without saying all of it, you know he knows exactly what you mean.

"Thank you for loving an idiot like me." He says softly.

"It couldn't be anybody else." You say, completely resolute in your admittance.

You lay there like that for God knows how long, just drinking each other in. Mumbling words of praise, astounded by each other's existence. You exchange sweet little jokes, press priceless kisses into every inch of skin you can reach, and make beautiful promises.

"James?" You say as you draw figure eights on his chest with your finger tip.

"What happens next?" You question.

He takes a deep breath in as he twirls your hair between his fingers.

"Well-" He's cut off by the sound of the front door opening. You both bolt upright off the bed, clinging to the sheets. The sounds of lovely, soft laughter fills the house. One is the laugh of a woman, full and warm, the other is bright and twinkly, obviously belonging to a younger girl.

"Shit." You whisper simultaneously as you glance at each other with pounding hearts.

"James?" The woman's voice calls.

"Yeah ma?" James hollers back, hand coming to hold yours as he tries to keep his mouth straight, obviously entertained by the misfortune of the situation.

"Whose truck is that out front?" She asks, then footsteps start to echo as she climbs the stairs.

"Oh my God." You whisper.

"I guess you're meeting my mom, that's what happens next." He says quietly. Your eyes are on his immediately, every reasonable part of you says to panic, but the look on James' face is absolutely priceless. His cheeks are pink as he pulls his lips over his teeth to keep from busting out in laughter. It's ok though, you do it for him. Soon you're both doubling over with laughter, embracing the inevitable awkward encounter that you're about to have with his poor mother. It'll be ok, it'll be wonderful, anything will as long as you two stick together.

Taglist:

@b-o-n-e-daddy @lillsrecs @all-art-is-quite-useless @brownlee-22 @peace-love-hobbitness @pinknerdpanda @supernaturalwintersoldier @can-i-sin-right-now @pennyroyalcreep @jessyballet @calwitch @aurora-sweet @learisa

#bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan #bucky x reader #captain america #marvel smut #sebastian stan smut #winter solider x you #marvel

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cupsofsuga · 5 years ago

Text

𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 ━ 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐓𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 *:·。.

{ ⚠️} WARNING - This is a yandere au, meaning the following may be triggering to some viewers. I am not trying to discriminate the boys in any way, this is for entertainment purposes. Viewer discretion is advised!!!

{ ☕️} NOTE - there’s some heavy violence in this headcanon! again, viewer discretion is advised! also, thank you anon for being so kind!!!

{ 💐} ANON ASKED - ❝ Hcs for each member to their s/o having a hard time at school because they have a lot of exams and there is like this one girl who is kinda bothering them a lot and says thing’s like „you’re so dumb“ + Thank you for your hard work🌟 :) ❞

━━━ 𝐊��𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐊𝐉𝐈𝐍

whilst walking through the early afternoon, jin can’t help but let his mind wander to his y/n

they are candied cherries, chocolate-covered strawberries, slices of honeydew of a sultry june afternoon

they are a summer sonnet, saccharine sunshine embodied

they are in every means the light in a pit of darkness

and just before his fists meet with the mahogany door, the hushed sounds of sobbing brings his ethereal thoughts to an abrupt halt

that sugary taste of spring melts into a metallic tang

jin is ripped from the arms of serendipity and embraced by a holy, winter night; he is exploited by hell and feels it’s knife-sharp kisses litter his body

and without a second thought, he bursts through the door with enough force to puncture the wood

he is quick to provide aid for his love, letting them trail on of tales of their arrogant teachers and that sadistic blonde who finds pleasure in your torment

jin’s heart shatters and underneath the glass shard in unfathomable rage

and just like that, we watch as his anger swells and the events that follow after the faltering of his flower

5:38 PM, your teacher who has thrust you into a rough patch with school stands by his car

jin strikes, he falls to the ground, streets seeping with crimson blood as his sinful acts bleed into the creases of the pavement

the brick in his hand is quickly disposed of as he hijacks the stranger’s car and attends the key to his office

hours later, he finds you, nestled under silky blankets with moon tea in your grasp

he presents to you a cheat sheet, relishing in the way you smile so vividly and the summer petals that asphyxiate him

next, is that girl who dared to let you cry tears for her

and the acts performed on her were horrific

he nustles you back into bed, a gentle kiss to the head and caresses to the cheek, then, he is off into the night

within the next 12 hours, jin had managed to slice off her fingers and toes, laughing sadistically as she begs for mercy

the annoying disunity of her pained, guttural screams irritated jin, and to end of the night with a bang, he forced her to eat a bullet

now, the burdens have been disposed of, the anger has simmered and his love has found peace, you both can live smoothly

without the suffocating weights of the horrid world, jin can listen to his midsummer sonnets as they grace his world with their delicate smiles and infectious laughter

finally, he can breathe.

━━━ 𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈

yoongi awakes in the evening a couple of steps into march, early spring sticky on his cheeks and sheets pressed upon his dainty legs

the burning revelation of what lies next to him feels like the midnight sun warm against his bareback

he knows the love of his life rests right beside him, deep in a luminescent slumber

yoongi turns his body around, meeting with his love, who instead is perched on the side of the bed, phone screen illuminating the room that drowned in obscurity

beneath that canopy of constellations, there is his y/n, crying out to the empty night

and that bruising palpitation that strikes his heart with one bitter-intended swing could’ve crumbled planets in the galaxy to nothing but dust bunnies you’d find nestled in the depths of the attic

every bated breath is suffocated within his lungs, saltwater smothering him as he can’t find the words to provide aid for the love of his life

the ashes skies and dull clouds envelop him, and alas, magic has died

with a gentle touch to your shoulder, the boy behind you coos and hushes his own cries of worry as you both sit in solid darkness

through saturated cries, you manage to cough up tales of demons that litter the hallways, choking on the acerbic aftertaste of tears

with the moon strung high, yoongi finds devotion through the thorn-laced ivy that punctures his form

he must prove his infatuation, he must

after all, when the world left him astray, you painted him gold with stardust brewing in your lungs

when the galaxy abandoned him, you gifted him the sun as if the planet was nothing but coins in your pocket

when he was alone, you were there in all of your effervescent glory

and that leaves your lover now, writing an anonymous complaint about that blonde’s behavior, lacing the letter with false stories of her becoming physical

yes, yoongi knows this is wrong, but that image of you with gleaming tears sprinting down your cheeks robs him of any potential mercy

he loves you, and he must defend you from the world

and there it is, your smile

you look like a pack of adonis blue butterflies in the summer, the diamonds that scatter the galaxies, rose petals as they fall from the clouds

you are happy, and now you can live in tranquillity

as the sun sets and the wolves venture out of their the caves, you two spend eternal hours on the roof, sipping cheap red wine as bellowing laughter echoes

and it’s so sweet - so, so sweet - living days in the depths of ice-rimmed snow globes and soaring through the land of hogwarts

it's so sweet finding forever summer within the cold days of late winter

it’s so sweet to live the rest of his days with you.

━━━ 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐊

❝ oh, oh! i’ll do them for you! ❞

without a hint of breath, hoseok interferes your rant about exams with a shimmering idea

that’s who he was, after all

a boy willing to spit out the ash of bullets with the sun pounding against his ribcage and with the alacrity of his spirit

he’d watch the stars bleed and summer fade, he’d embrace violence with pleasure and hunt out the wolves of the night

he’d swallow seas, seethe in hellfire, swim within the embers of the sun and wither planets to dust

he’d just about do anything for you, and you milked his very desire to do such

you see, exam season was hot on your tail and there were only seconds before you witness the death of a downfall behind procrastination

the elegance of time has faded, and fortunately for you, your pretty-pliant boy toy is there with a cape to save the day

you should feel guilt for manipulating and twisting your lover's brain, but, the poison that seeps through the maze of your veins robs you of any empathy

his whitening bones and your rotten figure, his sunset skies and your ashen wastelands

you both might as well have been a devil and an angel sitting in the same high school class

but, the burden of exams is only an inkling of the baggage heavy on your shoulders

that blonde who finds sadistic pleasure in turning your life into a living hellhole awaits your next move, and with the help of your delusional lover, you may find stars within the black hole of the universe

as your grades all skyrocket as planned, you’ll have enough golden stars and lollipops to have her regina george and her precious good-girl streak melting into the tile before her expensive platforms

so, as the next afternoon blossoms, you meet hoseok at his locker with a disposition burning within your heart and ask him out on a date, watching as summer’s sky drowns out within his irises and the essence of spring spreads amongst his doll-like features

as he accepts with a stutter, you become concerned with whether or not you should check if the poor boy is still breathing, but settle on attending the ice cream parlor on the corner of town

and as you both sit in the sunset as superman ice-cream stains his lips, your plan proceeds in perfect harmony

with your sweetheart who resembles a golden retriever who’s met face-to-face with a battered-off tennis ball, your every desire is granted

with cloy praises and sugar-tainted caresses, you’re passing your exams with a pretty little pet there to serve to every one of your commands

and blinded by the infatuation through the manipulation, hoseok finds lavender-infused meadows and universes undiscovered

ever waking second with you, he finds the sun as it beats against his empty eyelids

alas, he has found clarity within the treacherous world

and he doesn’t know what he’d do if you ever left him.

━━━ 𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐉𝐎𝐎𝐍

wednesday afternoon, namjoon is roaming around the somewhat-secluded library, once again

he finds you at a deserted table and relishes in the ambivalent pandemonium of your eternal gaze that pounds his hummingbird heartbeat

he finds cherry stains chalked upon your lips, the dust of a child’s dreams scattered upon your features, the touch of aphrodite herself laced within your fingertips as you turn the pages with elegance

to have a stark sight of you, he has found rome in the depths of you and he is only left to scrutinize every last moment

as you talk with a friend on the phone, namjoon picks up a stray book off the shelf, posing to deem it interesting as the ink fades to nonsense

there’s a tangible bitterness in your tone, stating your stress over exams, then exclaiming your rage for another student who has found entertainment in using you like a rag doll

namjoon listens, and he seethes

there’s a vivid pulse of red, a breath of tranquility left astray, heavy spring rain that envelops him

in the serrated halt in his thoughts, he listens to your rants and the harmonious claps of thunder that follow after the light rain showers

as the clock reads 3:27 AM, the boy spends the ungodly hours of the night inhaling the musk of silken mist as he dives into the depths of whatever information he can grasp of your supposed bully

after all, he’d do just about anything for you

he’d swallow bullets, suffocate himself on clouds, slice galaxies and set your shadows aflame if you simply asked

he loves you, and the burning light’s embrace taste of lemonade

you are willow trees in late june heat, apple pies left to cool on an autumn afternoon, a star amongst a field of faux pearls, a fairytale you’d find hidden in the dust of a bookstore

you are in every means a melody of summer and the ethereal sense of purity that follows after

so, that leaves namjoon now, casting his gaze upon a penthouse where the villain of your story lies

and the acts that follow after climbing into the adobe through the fire escape are horrid

he spits out threats and insults as the girl shows her submission, tears tumbling down her rosy cheeks as she pleads for any potential compassion found within the man

she then proceeds to swear on her life that she won’t utter a breath of this night if the intruder were to simply leave, but, the myths that lie within those ocean eyes state differently

and so he kills her - he kills her so violently - he watches the life leave her doe eyes like a dying star

namjoon then leaves her in the bathtub, mustering up some sob suicide note about how unfair her life was, then neglecting his sins at the domain

finally, finally, he can taste the midsummer plums and strawberry-tainted air without the burden of the world

finally, he can dance with the sunbeams as the rain begins to fade into lustrous stars

finally, he can breathe with you.

━━━ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍

even with the simple incantation of a compliment, you have jimin vowing his devotion to you, a simple stranger

you, who holds the hypnotic elegance of a swan, the unintentional divine nature of a ghost and the substantially ethereal depths of aphrodite herself hold a young boy’s sensitive heart in the palm of your palms

you, who lives in the wind by the riverside, hold the universe in your hands

jimin, and his tenacious behavior, stand just outside the door of his father’s office, ear pressed against the door, clinging onto any inkling of a word he can grasp

your father stands in the room, too, just without you, the sun in the empty abyss

with muffled words, he listens as your father speaks stories of your stress with upcoming exams and with a bully of yours

his brave iris, his luminescent flower, his star dripped in honey nectar- is suffering…?

jimin has been left to wallow in a desolated graveyard, just to fantasize of your dancing touch and luminescent smile

you are both two bunny rabbits prancing through the barricades of spring, two fairies dancing with dust in the heat of summer

every fleeting moment, it all echoed within him

and that leaves jimin now with the yearbook that he borrowed from you settled in his lap

he takes the brief second to examine your school picture, tracing delicate fingers amongst your features and the doodles of hearts and flowers that litter around your sparkling face

flipping through the pages, he hears your father’s voice in his head, who had spoken the name of the demon that dared to dwell in you

languorous days, lavender hearts and june-infused nights, he has found some sense of clarity within the heartbreaking loyalty

inhaling the musk of a filthy bar littered with drunk men, he finds a blonde head, plan lingering within his mind

he then forges attraction, single whispers proving more of the bruises on his skin than the flower of his love

with angelic tones and forcing gags back down his throat, jimin had finally gotten this parasite alone

he had gotten the doe-eyed villain alone in an alleyway, lust staining the shades of her eyes

and that leaves the blue-eyed, plum-lipped girl with golden hair now, left in a puddle of piss and beer - dead

there’s blood everywhere - in the wind, on the pavement, on the brick walls, stained upon empty skin

but, alas, despite drowning in the sticky residue of his sins, eden’s garden has bloomed

alas, without the burden there to touch your soul and carve letters to ghost upon your precious skin, he is free

and you venture behind your father to another meeting several days later, meeting face-to-face with an abnormally bright puppy-dog with summer sunbeams soaked in the hues of his irises

❝ y/n! y/n! hey! do you- do you need help with your exams? i can help, i swear! i really can! i promise...! i’d do anything to help… ❞

━━━ 𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐓𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐆

you curl your fingers around the flutter of the telephone cord, the prismatic pastel hues complimenting every syllable that leaves your mouth

your brows knit and nose scrunches, your lips twist and eyes glimmer

and, within your haze, after leaving your window open to find some contentment in the heavy humidity, a figure slid in through the crack and resides in the closet

taehyung now cherishes you through the speckles of light given through the rift of the closet door, summer leaving its eternal residue upon his form

he stares and finds the embodiment of the moon and its naked bones through the gentle film of your bedside lamp

he then listens as you complain about your bad day, dwelling in the curves and juts of your tone

how no matter how many times you attempt to curl your way out of her embrace, the blonde who has learned to despise you, an angel, always seeps her way back into your bloodstream

like a sour lemon upon the july sun, like the burning embers of winter amongst summer stars

his tranquility found in the human he loves has suffered a perceptible shift

and now, all he can touch and all he can see is unfathomable rage

how dare someone treat such a creature with envy? how dare they treat his love with obsidian-stained hatred!?

how could a human disrupt a heartbeat trapped in the galaxies!? how could a human hurt such an angel...?

these thoughts spread like constellations as taehyung sits beside you on your bed, tucking you tighter into your blankets with caution not to jeopardize his identity

you sleep like pearls in the sea, like california poppies in the daybreak

and with a gentle kiss to your forehead and a secret in the grave, he is off into the night

and within the blistering bite of the night, taehyung finds the girl and gives a gaze with two beady, stern eyes that burns bullets into his helpless victim

a good game of tag as the wind chills through the oxygen, cat and mouse in the opalescent midnight sky

and within a matter of seconds, an arrow pierces through the night and penetrates through her neck

he watches- watches as life bleeds down her collarbone

and he loves it

but now, he has returned to his love, soaked head-to-toe in the irony taste of his own sins

he sits beside your sleeping form, clutches midsummer peaches in his grasp as places his land ever so gentle upon yours

a plan lingers- a plan of how he'll kill two birds with one stone

he'll begin tutoring lessons, assisting you with your exams and drowning in the neon hues of your soul

and through the lullaby, kim taehyung has found a pale summer sky in an eternal night

he has found the lulling taste of july fruits in the suffocating depths of the attic

he has found his heartbeat in the graveyard of his mind

and his love for you is eternal.

━━━ 𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐊𝐎𝐎𝐊

with a juul held beneath your skin, nicotine soaks in the air and poisons the musk around

it fills your nostrils, holy smoke fogging up the deceased, midnight breeze

there’s muffled music that doubles yourself in this dream, there’s tranquility found in the abandonment of time

you listen and bathe in the epiphany found in the ghost of the late-night song, dwelling in the simmering sounds

you and your closest friend sit on the roof of your car, just outside of a party, gazing at the moon and sharing hits of the toxic juul pod

and within jungkook, there is infatuation infused with every breath, every blink, every waking second

there lies pearls and petals of lotus flowers within your irises, the smoke serving as a wreath around your exquisite form

your voice sounds of nature as you speak to the moon, and he has fallen prey to every curve and jut of the gibberish that leaves your mouth

you are graceful, you are broken

you are enigmatic in the hypnotizing land of twilight, you are beauty embodied as the stars circle the earth

but, through the canopy of tulips and chirping birds, the wolves venture from out of their adobe with bloodlust staining their golden eyes

you fuss about a particular blonde, proceeding to thrust your friends sanity into the flames of a hearth

you are but a doll in her grasp, a bruised and battered toy crafted for tantrums

you speak words of sour lemonade, and alas, the tranquility in the air has simmered into wrath

with lilacs in the black skies and tragedy in the pavement, you, too, find anger within the slender bones of the moon

you despise being wormwood in her grasp, but, you assume those are just the blues of being a high school student

and as the night falters and dawn blooms, you are met with fatal permission

you have met with the edge of the woods, found the corpses of mauled wolves, found ecstasy in a wasteland of dust

you eavesdrop and hear silent chatter of how regina george did not retreat home from the party the previous night

unknown to your knowledge, the sadistic candyland you were a plastic figure in has met its fate

as it will forever live as a mystery, you are unaware to the fact that her body lies miles away, left to rot within the venomous soil

then, you approach jungkook, filling him in on the latest gossip and expressing your cruel joy for her disappearance

and the pleasure that settles in his face like honey’s residue on a july afternoon was terrifying

jungkook has lost himself in a hallucination of lively color, an illusion of summer days amid winter

he has found the phoenix flower as it blooms within the hues of your eyes, he has found silken stars as they litter your face like sugar and glitter

he has found solace in the new day, the new beginning

he has found euphoria in judgment day.

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raidbossmadi · 5 years ago

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People Like US Chapter 3

3. Into the Vault

Previous chapter: Here

“So what’s the plan Ty? Are we really gonna take her in as a janitor?” Troy asked as he snuffed out the butt of a blunt into the balcony’s ashtray. Tyreen hadn’t said much once they’d gotten back to the hotel and he was curious as to what she was thinking.

“Don’t you think that’s an insult to the maintenance crew. You know they’d take it as the God-Queen thinks we aren’t doing good enough so she sent in a siren” Tyreen pitched her voice up as she did her impression of the maintenance staff. “Besides that’s a waste of a Siren. Imagine how much more influence we could get if we had another siren on our side, under our control. We could get her to do things the war meat can’t.”

“Yeah, I can put a good spin on that. The twin gods in their infinite mercy take in a poor stray Siren. People oughta love it, plus like we haven’t brought someone into the inner circle since Iris and that was what...three years ago now, I’m sure she’d like a friend who's quieter than Mouthpiece.” Troy said pulling out his echophone to write a note to himself. “We’re really doing this then? Can’t take it back once we approach her, you know that Ty.”

“We’re really doing this, something about it just feels I dunno...right in a weird way.” Tyreen couldn’t put into words the almost magnetic feeling that drew her to the other siren and she supposed that it was a siren thing, one of the many for which there were no words to explain. She only hoped that what little siren power Troy possessed made him feel the same way.

Part of Tyreen also wondered if perhaps taking in Sloane could solve another issue of theirs, of course she knew Troy could take energy from her, he had been reliant on her for as long as she could remember but what if he could feed on another siren? That way she could get by without having to spread herself so thin looking for enough to leech to sustain them both. It was an interesting prospect that she was willing to experiment with.

“I’ll send word back to the ship, tell the circle what we’re planning. Better to have everyone prepared for a new family member.” Troy remarked closing the balcony door behind him as he reentered the hotel room, now that they had a solid plan it was time to get the preparations in full swing.

When the twins made their return to Sloane's house they found the other siren waiting for them in the front lawn, sat at her easel painting the tree tunnel they had emerged from. A vine pulled out of the house window a mug curled in its tendril as it came to her side and she plucked the cup from it.

“And here I was worried the two of you were having second thoughts.” She remarked standing up from her seat as they approached. It was late afternoon and while the twins hadn’t specified when they’d be arriving to make their deal she had almost expected it to be early so that they could just get it out of the way.

“Such little faith, gods always keep their word doll.” Troy said with a smirk before deferring to Tyreen.

“We’ve decided to agree to your terms Sloane, we will take you into our family and you will serve us in exchange for freedom from this planet. Provided of course that you take us to the Vault and hand over the vault key.” Tyreen crossed her arms, she was short in stature but her voice and overall demeanor projected the will and intent of her title. Sloane had seen the streams she knew this woman was dangerous and not to be underestimated yet she felt no fear in cooperating with her.

“I assume you want to be taken to the vault key now then?” She asked as she checked the time, they could make it there before the forest got too dark but it would be nightfall by the time they made it to the vault itself. “It’s a bit of a walk from here.”

“Lead the way.” Tyreen said the pair flanking Sloane on either side as they disappeared into the wilds of Eden-4. As they walked Sloane finally got a good look at Troy now that he wasn’t trying to physically intimidate her, she noted the red looping patterns on his left arm that crept up to under his left eye and the similarities they had to her and Tyreen’s siren markings, but male sirens weren’t possible were they?

“You’re a siren?” She asked her voice barely above a whisper as if she was afraid to make the accusation and be wrong.

Troy opened his mouth to answer but quickly looked over to Tyreen his expression twisting into a slight frown. Sloane was starting to see a pattern in which Troy seemed to not be allowed to voice specific details without some kind of permission from his sister.

“Not a siren.” He said in a much more subdued tone than she had expected from him “Just a side effect of being born with one.”

Sloane could tell there was much more to that then he was letting on but it was obvious that she wouldn’t be getting more than that out of him at least not now. The twins put so much of themselves on display that the fact that they had secrets at all had seemed absurd up until this moment, granted as far as she knew this was still part of that display. She decided she would ask no more questions out of a partial fear of asking the wrong one and Tyreen changing her mind about her usefulness.

They stopped as the path ended abruptly at the rocky base of a cliff, face of which was overgrown with vines and other vegetation. Before either twin could ask why they had stopped Sloane reached towards the cliff her siren markings flared with bright blue light as the vines peeled away to reveal an intricate pattern of Eridian writing that surrounded a small hole in the formation too clean to be natural.

“What’s it say Troy?” Tyreen asked as she gestured at the writing. He squinted at it his brow furrowed in concentration as he looked over the carvings.

“It’s a warning.” He stated. “About what would happen if the Vault was opened. Open the Vault of the Aggressor and fire and destruction will follow; says the planet would be scoured to ash the likes of which no one has seen before.”

“Well that sure sounds inviting, but nothing we can’t handle.” Tyreen remarked, seeming totally unmoved by the threat of whatever danger lurked inside the Vault.

Sloane however was a little unnerved by the promises of the planet burning even if she did plan to leave it behind by the end of this. She still had her obligations to the Calypsos though so she stuck her hand into the carved hole in the rock, her fingers closing around the object hidden within. Despite it being surrounded by cold rock on all sides it radiated a perpetual warmth that confirmed it was what she was looking for.

“One vault key, just as you requested God-Queen.” She said presenting it to Tyreen. It was a perfect cube of stone with smaller square channels cut into the sides, it was an unassuming thing considering what it opened.

Tyreen regarded the cube as if it were a precious gem. She took it from Sloane and turned it over in her gloved hand holding it up in the fading light. “So is the vault far then?”

“No, it’s a brisk walk from here. Shall I take you there?” Sloane asked, hiding the brief hesitation in her voice. It was all so real now, she had only been out to the vault a few times before each to check for meddling. It was all becoming very real now, she never thought she would have to worry about the vault being opened and yet here she was leading the charge to open it.

The entrance to the vault was an unassuming thing, Sloane was pretty sure that was why no one who wasn’t directly looking for it had ever found it. It was a cave situated behind a large waterfall which, while beautiful to look at, threatened to sweep away those who ventured to close. Luckily Sloane knew the way to approach and avoid any of the danger and the roar of the water was only a distant hum now that they were inside the cave.

Guardian constructs that usually would have rushed to challenge those stupid enough to dare try approaching the Vault were instead destroyed, bound to the ground and sides of cave by thick overgrown vines. Sloane had dispatched them in a fit of fear and desperation when she had first approached the vault years ago now but not before she had learned the hard way that they were dangerous. The vault arch stood in the center of the chamber that had stretched out before them.

“Get your cam-bot ready Troy, it’s showtime.” Tyreen said walking towards the arch with the vault key in hand.

Sloane watched the male twin reach over and press the shoulder of his cybernetic arm a cam-drone deploying from it. She was impressed with how clever a design choice that was as she watched the bot follow after Tyreen.

“Alright Eden-4, let's see what you’ve been hiding for all these years.” Tyreen cooed as she stuck the stone cube into the pedestal before the archway.

The vault entrance shimmered into existence and no sooner had it opened when a large clawed forelimb shot out from the dimensional gap followed immediately after by a second limb. A large snake like head joined the collection of body parts and as the rest of the creature emerged from the vault Sloane muttered the only word she felt properly described the creature standing before them.

“Dr-dragon, That’s a dragon!”

Troy’s prosthetic arm grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her out of the way as a column of flame erupted from the monster's mouth towards them.

Tyreen however was ready and a crackling purple orb slammed into the monster’s side drawing its attention away from them and toward her.

Sloane watched as Tyreen baited the monster around the chamber somehow always managing to slip away before claws or teeth could get close to her. It was like a dance and watching both of them put Sloane into a bit of a trance like state what was only broken when the monster, thrown into the wall close to herself and Troy by the blast from the other siren. Yellow slitted eyes focused on the two and the monsters fanged mouth opened in anticipation.

Before the creature could strike however thick vines from the surrounding cave walls sprang to life as Sloane reached out with her powers and they coiled around the monsters neck dragging it back to the center of the room and tying it down to the floor. It was a struggle to hold the creature down, Sloane had never used her powers on anything this large before, she tended to be defensive with them. The creature of course was more powerful than anything she had encountered before.

Tyreen seemed to get the message and hurried over to the felled monster which shrieked and pulled against its bindings harder than before as Tyreen’s power, now brilliant red chains of energy hooked into it and drained the very life out of it, leaving only a stone and eridium husk.

“Annnd cut.” Tyreen called, the cam-bot whizzed back to its master and slotted back into his arm. Sloane fell to her knees panting, she felt overextended and exhausted .

“Hey, You alright?” Troy asked, the concern caught her off guard as she figured they didn’t care about her well-being after all she was a means to an end to them and they had gotten what they wanted, as far as she knew they could easily leave her dead for being foolish enough to have trusted them at all.

“I’ll be fine, I just need to catch my breath.You...You’re bleeding. ” She responded, a glint of concern in her eyes in kind as she noticed blood trickling down Troy’s arm, it seemed he’d been grazed by a rock kicked up by the creature.

Troy’s eyes widened in surprise as he followed her gaze, his metal hand coming up to cover the wound. “Ty, need a hand here!” He called over to his twin who was still staring at her kill with a look of satisfaction.

Tyreen sighed as she hurried back over to them. “Aye manito you need to be more careful, what would do without me.” She chastised taking his hand in hers, he gave a short ‘heh’ at her words but otherwise seemed unphased . Their siren markings flared in response to contact and the wound on Troy’s arm closed, it would seem that perhaps his markings, whatever they were, were not as inert as Sloane had been led to believe hours before.

“You sure you’re alright? There’s plenty of Eridium around if you need a boost.” Tyreen asked her attention squarely on Sloane now that Troy had been patched up.

Sloane picked herself off the ground and gave herself a once over. “No, no I’m fine really. I just well, wasn’t expecting to have to deal with something like that.”

“Yeah vault monsters are nasty business, it gets easier the more you deal with though!” Tyreen was oddly chipper about the prospects of fighting more of these monsters.

“Can’t wait you have a look through that footage, bet you I can make some killer edits Ty.” Troy too was very energetic now, both Calypsos seemingly buzzing with excitement.

“Right, thanks for your generous contributions Sloane. Troy and I will escort you back to your house, you can make sure you have everything you want and our crew will come and grab you first thing in the morning.” Tyreen explained as they made their way out the vault cave back into the cool night air of Eden-4.

Sloane still couldn’t believe this was actually happening, it seemed so fantastic and out there that she was sure if she were to tell anyone else they wouldn’t believe her. After all, she felt she wasn’t anyone special outside of being one of six sirens which when compared to what she knew of the other sirens her powers weren’t even that impressive. Yet she had earned the company of the two most influential people this side of the six galaxies.

It felt like a dream as she stood at her front door the twins behind her seeing her off safely.

“See you tomorrow, welcome to the family.” Tyreen said as she turned to walk away Troy following after. Sloane watched them disappear down the tree tunnel again as she had the first time they’d come.

She walked into her house, the essentials of her life packed into two large suitcases ready to leave come morning. She took one last look from the doorway, knowing this would be the last time she ever walked back into this place as home.

#People Like Us #troy calypso #Tyreen Calypso #My writing #My hcs #Sloane the Siren

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venusofthehardsells · 5 years ago

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Avalanche [parts one and two]

ReaderxLoki

Summary: Trapped under an avalanche after a HYDRA attack, Loki and the reader have to stay alive until the rest of the team can get you out. It is easier said than done with a bullet in your side and Loki cut off from his magic. Warnings: blood, like one swear word, the whole thing’s a bit sad okay A/N: Yay, another fic I didn’t manage to finish in time for the challenge I wrote it for! This one is for Attie’s Challenge Challenge over at @barnesrogersvstheworld, and it really was a struggle to come up with something for my prompt (bolded in the text) because Loki is a difficult muse to please. There is very little respect for the canon timeline, especially in part two. I just wrote what felt right to me.I also originally intended for this to be a oneshot, but... things didn’t work out that way. I might come back to it and add an epilogue at some point. Who knows. I hope you enjoy reading this! Let me know what you think ~ ___ PART ONE We can get out of here, right?” You swallowed hard and tried to discreetly press your hand tighter over the wound under your jacket. It frightened you how thin your voice sounded, but hoped Loki would chalk it up to you being winded from running through the snow. “You can get us out of here,” you continued, looking at the pale god. “There must be some kind of magic you can-“ You stopped when you heard Loki’s dry chuckle. “You are forgetting how little the others trust me, my dear,” he said bitterly, holding out his hands. Resting around both his wrists were the heavy silver bracelets Tony Stark had fashioned together with Stephen Strange. Shackles. Fashionable, beautiful shackles that rendered Loki unable to use his magic and were now the very things stopping him from saving the both of you.

Well, at least he had bought you some time. “You’re right, sorry,” you muttered, biting your lip and tugging your jacket tighter around yourself to very little avail. “But then surely they will come find us when they’re done with those HYDRA idiots.”

The tiny outhouse Loki had dragged you into had nothing in the way of heating except what its walls could provide, and now that it was completely covered in snow from the avalanche, the only source of light was the single lightbulb dangling in the middle of the room. You were quite certain no one had cleaned out in here for a decade or four. Everything was covered in frozen dust. It would probably impossible to pry the different rusty tools from the wall, you thought glumly. Besides, they might not be of any use. For all you knew, the snow might be half a mile deep and in your current state, you could only dream of getting the door open anyway.

“Surely,” Loki repeated with very little conviction. You couldn’t hold back a small smile. Even with a gunshot in the shoulder, a nasty cut across his forearm and an air of thorough dishevelment, he somehow managed to remain the most elegant man you had ever seen.

“Mr Stark will dig us out in no time,” you said, wincing at the sting of pain in your side. “I may only be a lowly secretary, but he’s not about to misplace you. Say what you will about trust, you’re still a valuable asset to the team.”

“I would be of a lot more use without the cuffs.”

“I agree.” You looked around for something to sit down on.

“Here,” Loki offered and removed what was probably the most ancient can of oil you had ever seen from a large crate that took up most of the small space. The can was frozen solid and only grudgingly let go of the surface it had most likely been sitting on for years.

You moved as carefully as you could and sat down gingerly, but Loki didn’t fail to notice the way you screwed up your face when you accidentally pushed a finger against the wound instead of over it.

“What’s that?” His voice rose in alarm when the dim light in the shed fell on your red, bloody fingers. “You were shot…”

“So where you,” you tried, nodding at his shoulder. Loki forced your hand away from yourself to get a better look at the injury. You couldn’t hold back a hiss as he slowly lifted the hem off your jumper up to your ribs. He swore under his breath.

“Is it that bad?”

“Your attempt at humour made you feel even worse when you looked at his pale, glassy eyes and saw that, yes, it was exactly that bad.

Loki took off his torn suit jacket and placed it over your legs. Then he settled next to you and to your surprise put both arms around you and pulled you close to him.

“Stark will find us,” he whispered and you could feel the tears rise in your eyes now. It was really dire then.

“Maybe we should try and wrap it,” you suggested vaguely aware that the pain was getting worse. All the adrenalin that had been flooding your veins when you ran from the hotel and through the snow with shots ringing in your ears, was wearing off. And along with the pain, came the cold. You realised you were still wearing heels and thin stockings under your dress pants. It was probably a miracle you had even been wearing your coat when the shooting broke out. You hadn’t had time to take it off.

“Not with the bullet still in there. But we should try and stop the bleeding. Here…” Loki tore through the sleeve of his black shirt and folded the fabric a few times. “Lie down.”

Even though he said it as an order, he helped you swing your legs unto the crate and place your head and shoulders in his lap. Loki placed the folded piece of cloth on your skin and pressed down on it. You gritted your teeth.

“Thank you,” you managed.

“Well, at least these over-glorified handcuffs are good for one thing,” Loki smiled. You raised an eyebrow. “In this form, I’m not making you any colder.”

“What?!” You almost shot up into sitting position at that, but Loki’s hand kept you down. “Loki…” It hadn’t occurred to you that the anti-magic bracelets also kept him from changing into his natural Jotun form. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered, unable to think of anything helpful to say to the revelation.

“It wouldn’t do us any good if I could turn blue right now. Stop worrying yourself over it.”

You nodded weakly and closed your eyes. His thighs, though taunt with muscle, were surprisingly comfortable and you concentrated on keeping your breathing even, to focus on some other part of your body than the agonising place on your side where Loki’s hand was still resting, keeping a firm pressure. Just one breath in, then exhale. Inhale, exhale, repeat. It felt almost peaceful. And being so close to Loki like this… well, it normally only happened in your favourite dreams.

Maybe that was a good idea. Sleep. You could go to sleep and dream of him. Surely, you were already halfway gone judging by how heavy your lower body felt. If you could just go that final little distance to the comfort of sleep, this dream wouldn’t have to end, you could stay like this, stay in this particular dream with Loki, just the two of you, like you’d wanted for so long. You took a little pride in being the only mortal he spent time with willingly, the only one whose presence he could bear. Your tentative friendship had quickly become your favourite perk about working for Tony Stark and unlike the rest of the team, you made an effort to make him feel wanted.

“Hey!” Loki’s sharp outburst hauled you back to the present and you unwillingly opened your eyes. “You’re not sleeping, are you?”

“No,” you mumbled unconvincingly. When had your voice become so feeble? “Good, because you’re not allowed to,” he snapped and placed his other hand on your shoulder, his fingers boring into you to the point of pain. You whined and tried to twist away, but Loki only tightened his grip. “Listen to me! You can’t sleep!”

“Tough, you can’t tell me what to do,” you grumbled and tried turning away from him again with absolutely no success.

“We both know defying orders is above your paygrade, darling,” Loki huffed, giving your shoulder another tug. “It’s quite simple. I forbid you to fall asleep; if you do you won’t last very long, do you hear me? I have to admit I don’t particularly fancy the idea of having to explain to Stark that his favourite assistant died because I couldn’t keep her awake.”

You managed a small chuckle at that even though you knew he was perfectly serious.

“Mr Stark doesn’t care about me,” you sighed. The entire arm Loki was currently holding down was growing numb from where his fingers were squeezing it and stopping the blood flow. It was difficult to pay too much attention to it, though. The way he called you “darling” always made your breath hitch. “I’m just staff…”

“That’s not true.” Loki hesitated and even if your vision was beginning to seem a little fuzzy around the edges, you noticed how his brilliantly blue eyes flickered.

“I bring coffee and make sure Mr Stark is in the right room at the right time. It’s hardly rocket science.”

Perhaps numbness wasn’t such a bad thing, you thought to yourself. Loki’s hands felt much lighter now and so did your body. If you could just ignore the cold, it would be easy to drift off, Loki’s orders be damned.

“No, it’s more than that.” There was a softness in his voice that you didn’t often hear. “I don’t know how you do it, but the team is better when you’re around. Even if you don’t fight with them.”

His words sent a thrill through you; it was true you did a lot of small things for all the Avengers to make their workdays easier, but you didn’t realise Loki had noticed.

“Thank you, but… I’m not entirely convinced they don’t just eat my cupcakes to be polite,” you tried to joke, but it was getting more and more taxing to speak. Loki frowned and removed his hand from your shoulder to place it on your forehead instead.

“Fuck, you’re burning up, darling…”

He ran his fingers through your hair with the gentleness of a lover.

“I can’t feel anything,” you mused, looking up at him without really seeing him anymore. Pity, you thought, now that it was finally happening you couldn’t even feel those longer, slender hands on you. He must have seen how your eyes turned more and more unfocused.

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare die on me now. Stark will never let me live it down!”

He tried ruffling your hair, but your eyes kept falling shut almost of their own accord. He cursed then in a language you didn’t know and lifted you to sit nestled against his body. He gently rearranged his arms so that they held you close and tight to him, his heartbeat a low, distant thunder somewhere under your ear. It felt good.

“Tell me something, love. You have to stay awake. Talk to me, anything. What will you be wearing to Stark’s ball next week? It’s all anyone has been prattling on about for days now, so go on. Tell me, won’t you?”

The harshness had gone out of his voice. Loki sounded genuinely interested, softer, calm almost, although his rapidly beating heart told you another story.

“I’m not… going…”, you got out, feeling your throat thicken a little.

“Why on Earth not?”

Even without the feverishness, you were sure your face was on fire. So why were you shaking? Your teeth were rattling in your skull, reverberating all the way through your body.

“I’m cold,” you realised in a whisper that barely made it past your lips.

“Oh, really?,” Loki answered with a sarcastic sneer, but nevertheless held you even closer. “That tends to happen when you lose a lot of blood!”

He went on to rub your arms roughly to try and get the blood running. He must have noticed that your eyes had fallen closed again, because he mumbled a quick apology and slapped you across the cheek. With a yelp, you forced yourself to look at him. The small rush of pain was only temporary, but the way he looked at you�� that hurt.

Loki was always confident. At least, he went to great lengths to assure he appeared that way. Always in control of himself, aloof and difficult to get close to, he was a fortress of solitude that could withstand anything, endure anything and somehow still make it through unscathed.

Inside the walls was a place of anguish, rage, guilt and perhaps even chaos, but he never let anyone in to glance upon it. In time, and with effort, you had been allowed a glimpse, but nothing more. You were grateful for anything he was willing to share with you.

But oh, the way he looked at you now had those high walls crumbling.

“Focus!,” he snapped. “Why aren’t you going to that party?”

“I’m not…,” you began, but even your voice was heavy now and anyway, it was embarrassing, wasn’t it, you didn’t want him to know, not him.

“Why not? Why not?,” Loki persisted and you tried to turn your head away from him.

“It doesn’t matter-“

“You don’t get to decide what matters! Right now you, you just have to tell me.” His thumbs stroked your cheekbones, softly soothing the sting from the slap. It had been ages since anyone had touched you that way. You realised how close his face was to yours. Had his eyes always been this blue? God, you wished he had asked something else.

“No one’s… asked me…,” you finally admitted, feeling more pathetic than ever. Wanda had said it wouldn’t matter, that she hoped you would be there anyway because she wanted her friends there. You had appreciated it a lot, but you were the only girl you knew who would be arriving alone and no matter how much you wanted to go, that prospect just seemed sad to you.

Loki frowned at your words and drew you into his arms again. He began to rub your back this time.

“Would you care to go with me?,” he asked then and for a moment you nearly thought he’d slapped you again. This was exactly why you hadn’t mentioned it to any of the men you knew. You didn’t want them to ask you out of pity.

“You’re sweet,” you sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder; it was so much easier that staying upright by yourself. In fact, you could lean on him entirely, you realised in your tired, hazy thoughts. “But you never like Stark’s parties, you… you don’t have to go… for me…”

He let out a chuckle into your hair.

“Clearly, you don’t know me as well as you think. I always loved a good party or feast or ball or whatever it is you Midgardians prefer to call them. But my presence would hardly have been encouraged by Stark’s guests in the past, do you think?”

“I’m sorry… You really don’t have to… suffer through… on my… account…”

You weren’t sure you pronounced those last few words correctly or even said them out loud.

“No! Stop that nonsense and look at me!” Loki had raised his voice, something he had never done with you before, but even though he was right next to you, he sounded farther and farther away. “Look at me! You can’t sleep!” He went on to shout your name and shake you by the shoulders again. “If you’re dying to get out of accompanying me to that ball, I get it, you don’t want to, now just stop!”

“I want… you…,” you managed to force out in an incoherent whisper before abandoning the herculean task of keeping your eyes open altogether. It was probably for the best. You didn’t want the last image in your mind to be of his heartbroken face and teary eyes… PART TWO Loki was about to panic when you drifted off and he couldn’t get you back. When he realised that nothing he did mattered, neither shouting nor shaking, he sat very still with you cradled in his helpless arms. “I’m sorry, love,” he whispered, not trying to hold back his tears now that you had gone silent. He hated the world. In that moment, he truly hated it. After Thor had brought him back to Earth, free of Thanos’ influence, he had tried to do better. Begrudgingly, yes, but everything was better than the dungeon back on Asgard that had been the alternative offer. He had learned to bear the scorn and ridicule and distrust everyone treated him with, to stay silent and observing in the background and only speak when spoken to. He was little more than a shadow in the Avenger-compound, following the others obediently around when they needed him to and spending the rest of his time in his room or the library. It was nothing compared to the vast halls of knowledge he was used to from the palace, but it felt familiar. A small, strange version of a safe haven. And by Valhalla, he had needed one. Loki had spent less time reading the books and a lot more just staring at the pages while trying to come to terms with everything he had been through since he fell from Bifrost. He hadn’t spoken about it with anyone.During his trial in Asgard (if it could even be called that), the pain had still been too fresh in his mind, too raw. When Thor had brought him to Earth, to the very city he had nearly destroyed, defiance had won out and he hadn’t let anyone get close enough to ask. Not that people had been lining up to try. After all he had done, Loki couldn’t blame the mortals for despising him. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be angry at them for it though, For several weeks, Thor had been the only one who hadn’t hissed his name whenever the team had had to talk about him. Even for a life of loneliness, it had still been tough. The nights especially were dreadful. Whenever he fell asleep, Loki would find himself reliving every torment, every agonising moment before Thanos’ servant had sent him to New York with a sinister clarity that made it hard to tear himself awake. It probably would have continued that way if it hadn’t been for you. One night, the pain had been too much for him to withstand. He needed proper sleep. And so, he had ventured to the compound kitchen at two am, desperate for something, anything, to dull the raging chaos inside of him. He had gone through the cupboards with increasingly annoyed movements when the sound of someone else entering the huge open room made him turn around. You hadn’t exactly been an impressive sight. Loki clearly remembered how you had almost dropped the phone in your hand at the sight of him. He also remembered your fuzzy slippers, your tousled hair and your nearly see-through nightgown as if you had only just left the room like that mere seconds ago. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise anyone else was here,” you had said in a low nervous voice. “It’s perfectly alright,” Loki had answered, feeling so tense he thought his bones might snap. You had nodded and joined him by the kitchen counter. “I just wanted a cup of tea. Figured it might help me sleep.” You had shrugged and located the right cupboard right away. “Should I make one for you too?” The innocent question had felt more unexpected than if you had stabbed him in the gut. It was the first time someone had spoken to him as if… as if he weren’t him. “That… that would be nice. Thank you,” he had answered and you had smiled. A tired, quick little quirk of your lips, but still a show of kindness. Loki had become so accustomed to hostility, he had almost forgotten what it felt like not to be treated like an enemy. “Of course,” you had answered casually and gotten two clean mugs as if it were the most natural thing in the world. As if you weren’t talking to the man who had sought to enslave your entire race only last year. Loki almost didn’t dare speak to you again, afraid you might change your mind and start sneering at him like everyone else in the compound. Perhaps you didn’t know who he was and if that was the only reason for your carefree behaviour around him, he didn’t much feel like enlightening you. Instead, he had thanked you again when you poured hot water into the mugs and dumped two teabags in them. The scent that spread from them immediately made him feel a little more at ease. “Mr Stark has so much tea already, but this one has always helped me sleep so I just had to bring it when I moved in. I hope you don’t mind?” You had blown softly at your steaming drink. “Not at all.” It had felt as if you were some rare, shy bird he was tiptoeing around; just one wrong movement would make you fly away in fear. “It must be something special in it that makes you sleepy, I suppose,” you had mused, looking dreamily down into your cup. You had held it with both hands. “Valerian,” Loki had said carefully, felling a little emboldened when your eyes turned to him again with interest. “My mother sometimes brewed us herbal tea with valerian when we had nightmares as children. It calms you down.” “Oh? I never knew.” And then you had smiled again. You had drunk your tea in silence and then you had put the mugs away after showing him where you kept the valerian tea if he needed it again. “I’m going back to bed. Hopefully, I can get a little sleep in now and not be completely useless tomorrow.” You had rolled your eyes and stretched with a small yawn that you too late had tried to cover with your hand. “Goodnight. I hope to see you around.” The flutter of your eyelashes and the way you had hurried off then were still clear as day to him. It had been the first time he had slept all through the night in the compound. He had come to understand later that you had been nervous around him, but not because of his past. It was only a few days ago Thor had slipped up and revealed that he knew you had a soft spot for Loki. Had for a long time, even. Something about him that night had apparently drawn you to him. If he hadn’t already known then first-hand what a sadistic old hag Fate could be, he might have attributed his luck to her. Looking at you now though, silent and frozen in his arms, made him sure nothing he did would ever truly redeem him. He didn’t feel lucky having met you, just… damned. You had been the one good thing that had happened to him in the mortal realm, a glimpse of happiness in all of his anguish and isolation. And he couldn’t even have that. Loki clung to you in a way he hadn’t clung to anyone since he was a small child and let the last walls of the fortress fall away. He sobbed into your hair. The locks still had a faint scent of hairspray to them beneath the dull blanket of frost. Every little part of your frail, mortal body was pressed close to him in his grief. Why couldn’t he just have you? One friend in all of it, a companion to ease his loneliness, a single little mortal girl who didn’t curse the very ground upon which he walked, was that really too much to ask of the universe? Tearing himself bloody on the shards of his heart, he tilted your face upwards enough for him to lean down and press his lips to your unyielding ones. It was nothing like how he wanted it to be, but damn it if he wouldn’t go mad if he didn’t get to kiss you just once. He tried to imagine how it would have felt if you had been alive and warm to accept the gesture of affection, a gesture he hadn’t felt inclined to share with anyone for a very, very long time. In his mind, you would always smile whenever he dared imagine himself kissing you. He was about to pull back from you when he felt something that made his heart come to a full stop in his chest: an exhale against his lips. Small, flickering like a lost little creature and hardly there at all, but unmistakably a sign of life. Loki immediately put his head against your chest and closed his eyes. And there it was. A heartbeat. He could feel the panic starting to rise in him again, threatening to cloud his judgment and so, he forced himself to try to keep calm. He didn’t have much time. The fact that you were not dead already was nothing short of a miracle, but if he didn’t do something drastic and fast, he was going to lose you for the second time in a matter of minutes. If only he hadn’t been wearing those godforsaken cuffs! He looked around quickly and his eyes found the old tools hanging on the walls.The saw would be awkward to wield and the blade would likely snap before making any headway. The assortment of files and screwdrivers seemed equally useless. Loki’s desperate gaze fell upon a large hammer. Of course, he thought with brief sarcasm, before gently putting you down on the crate to go and pry it off the wall. He couldn’t afford to be picky. His own injured shoulder ached when he grabbed the handle of the hammer and pulled as hard as he could, the irony not lost him. He wasn’t sure a human could have managed it, but the thing finally gave in and let go of the wall with a loud clank. Quickly, he knelt down next to a smaller crate and placed his left forearm on it, palm up. The silver cuff was resting around his wrist, looking tauntingly solid. He knew it wasn’t. Even embedded with Strange’s magic, it was still only silver. It would bend and eventually break if he hit it hard enough. The cold only made it easier. Loki closed his eyes. Strange wasn’t a fool. He knew Loki sooner or later would be able to break out of any contraption he could come up with. Loki wasn’t a god for nothing. And so, with Thor and Stark’s permissions, Dr Strange had built in a failsafe. If the cuffs were somehow broken or opened by anyone other than Strange himself, they would kill the wearer. It was an extreme measure, but Loki had never expected it to become relevant. But if he only broke one of them, maybe, just maybe, he would have time enough to save you. He opened his eyes and brought the hammer down. The howl that left him when the soft metal yielded and the tool continued down into the bones of his arm, was one of desperation as much as one of pain. He threw the hammer away and, with a yelp, ripped off the now completely ruined handcuff, throwing that away too. Loki could already feel the magic surge through his broken forearm and hand, but he resisted the urge to heal himself and turned to you instead. The magic, while invigorating and wonderfully familiar, also felt weak and he considered trying to rid himself of the other cuff too, but quickly decided against it. Strange’s failsafe could start working any second now. He didn’t have a whole lot of time. He had to be practical. Forcing the stuttering little current of magic out through his ruined hand, he directed all of it to the sole task of improving your vitals.The bullet would require surgery. Trying to remove the little piece of metal was too big of a risk, but you also needed warmth. That, at least, he could provide you through magic. It was difficult working with only one hand he move and which hurt more and more for each second he pushed himself. The strain on him was almost unbearable. Loki gritted his teeth and tried not to think of anything but the warmth flowing into you, even when he felt himself grow dizzy with the effort, even when his vision began to darken. He groaned in pain, grasping at the tiny little strands of power the loss of the one cuff allowed him to feel, drawing them to him and through him, pulling at them until he thought they might snap. The cuff on his right hand was starting to weigh him down and he gasped for breath. He was sure he would collapse, there was no way he could take any more.Just when he was sure he would have to give up, he saw your eyelids flutter. A huge grin broke onto his face. It was working. He kept the magic link intact despite how every bit of his body was aching and screaming for him to sever it. His mouth tasted metallic; he was bleeding from his nose onto his lips. He pushed on. You stirred. He fell to his knees, fighting for every breath he drew. It didn’t matter as long as you lived. If someone had told him only a few years ago that he, Loki Laufeyson, rightful ruler of Jotunheim and next in line to the throne of Asgard, would die on Earth trying to save a silly little mortal, he would have laughed in their face. Yet somehow, Loki thought, this seemed more appropriate and meaningful than a gory death on the battlefield. After so many years of anger and torment, he would die saving the woman he had come to… love. Yes, whatever waited for him when he finally crossed the darkness, he would go there knowing that your blood, at least, would not be on his hands. “Loki?...” Even though his entire being felt as if it were being ripped apart at the seams, he smiled when he heard your voice. Quiet, shaky and not as soft as usual perhaps, but as Loki felt his frame give in and he hit the floor, that single word from your lips, his name, was the most soothing thing he could recall hearing. “Loki, what are you doing?!” He watched as you sat up, wincing, and looked down at him with your eyes wide and glassy in shock. “It’s going to be fine, darling. It’s going to be… all fine…” Loki closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift. There was nothing more he could do. At first, Loki wasn’t sure he wanted to open his eyes. If he really were dead, the sight that awaited him was bound to be unpleasant. He didn’t feel dead though. His left hand still hurt and when he tried to move his fingers, he couldn’t. There was that faint taste of metal as well. Loki vaguely remembered he had been bleeding when he hit the ground. Would he have to deal with the taste in the afterlife? He surely had gotten a lousy deal of it then. With a weary sigh, he decided he might as well get it over with, and opened his eyes. The golden sunset sky that met him took him by surprise. He had expected… well, not this. Dark clouds and eternal night perhaps? Or a great big nothing. He turned his head and saw great marble towers reaching into the sky like gentle giant hands. They were eerily familiar, Loki thought, his stomach clenching in apprehension. He realised he was lying down, and not uncomfortably, but in fact rather pleasantly on soft, silky cushions and embroidered blankets. Not a bed, but maybe a sofa…Loki sat straight up and looked wildly around at the grand room with the balcony overlooking the courtyard and the stable and the Northern wing with the high towers. This was his room in the palace on Asgard. It was all there, the rugs, the fireplace, the heavy bookcases, every last detail down to the scent…The only difference from last time he had been here was the almost unnerving quiet. Normally, the courtyard was full of people and noise; servants would pass by in the hallway outside his door; the tall clock by the wall would be ticking away, measuring the seconds with soft little thuds until the hour was up and the clock would ring out. But not even the great fountain could be heard. The silence was totally and utterly all encompassing. For a moment he was afraid to even breathe, afraid that the sound would somehow shatter this world. But why would he need to draw breath if he were dead? Slowly, he rose from the sofa and walked out onto the balcony, careful not to make even the smallest noise; after so many years of standing back and moving in the shadows, becoming one with the wallpaper, Loki had learned to tread without a sound. The view in front of him made his heart leap into his throat.Asgard had always been the most beautiful place in the universe to him. And as it lay there in front of him, spread out in its unusual silence, he felt more homesick than ever before. Just as the thought appeared in his mind, he suddenly knew he was no longer alone. He could feel a presence somewhere behind him, even if he couldn’t hear it. Trembling, Loki turned to look at the person now standing quietly by the door. “Hello Loki.” She smiled. His eyes stung with tears. “Mother.” Her smile grew wider. Frigga was exactly as he remembered her. Her eyes sparkled at him the way they always did when she looked at him. Her golden hair was gathered in a large, intricate up-do on her head with tiny amber pearls weaved into the strands. She held her head high and her hands folded in front of her, eyeing him expectantly. “It’s good to see you again,” Frigga said in a low, wavering voice and Loki now noticed that she had tears in her eyes as well. He almost couldn’t breathe. “Are you real?,” he managed, feeling the heat bloom in his heart when she nodded. “Yes, my son, I am as real as you. Though I must confess I hadn’t hoped to see you here so soon.” “What do you mean? What is this place? Is it…” Frigga shook her head sadly and gestured for them to sit down in Loki’s favourite chairs by the fireplace. “This is not Valhalla.” Loki could feel his hopes fall inside of him. It had been too much for him to dare dream of then. “Then what…?,” he began, trying to conceal his disappointment. “This is a more temporary place. Strange’s magic is trying to kill you because you destroyed his handcuffs. Valhalla is only for the dead. And you are not dead, Loki. At least, not yet.” She smiled at him with no small amount of pride. “It is only a matter of time then?” “It is a matter of choice at this point, I should think. That is why I am here. To talk some sense into you,” Frigga answered. She held out her hands to him and Loki only hesitated for a second before reaching out and taking them. “Look at you, my beautiful boy,” she sighed and squeezed his trembling hands. “I cannot tell you how grateful I am to see you again. Even if it is only for a little while.” Loki felt his throat grow thick at her words. “You said it was a matter of choice?,” he managed and Frigga chuckled. “Yes, I suppose I did. You are dying, Loki, but there is still hope for you. If you choose to, there is still a life for you to go back to. All you have to do is wake up.” She hesitated and looked down on their clasped hands. “Or you can come with me,” she went on with a deep breath, “to Valhalla.” Loki frowned. There was something in his mother’s tone he didn’t quite understand at first. “You don’t want me to go with you,” he realised slowly. “Why not?” It felt as if she had shouted at him or maybe hit him or even denounced him. But he knew she would never do that, no matter how many others turned their backs on him, no matter how wretched he became. Frigga would always be his mother. “I know you have suffered. My dear, dear boy, how you have suffered. And I am sorry. But it seems you have found a reason to endure life for a little longer?” Frigga tilted her head with a knowing smile and Loki found himself looking down, blushing like a schoolboy. “Yes…” He spoke your name gently, quietly, as if it were a fragile thing that might break. “As your mother, I want you to have all the happiness that you possibly can. You’re here because of her, but she wants you to come back.” Frigga leaned forwards and placed her forehead against her son’s. Loki closed his eyes to savour the feeling; it had been so long since anyone had touched him with such affection. “And you did invite her to a ball, did you not?” Loki couldn’t help but grin at that. “It would seem I did, yes.” “Well then, it is rude to keep your partner waiting. I should hope I taught you some manners along with the magic.” She blinked, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “Mother, you taught me everything,” Loki said, his voice starting to fail him. The words seemed inadequate. He wanted her to know how much he had always valued her, how much she still meant to him… how much he missed her. He searched for the right thing to say, but the silence stretched on between them as they sat there, Frigga running her fingers through Loki’s thick hair. What could he possibly say to her to make her understand just how devastatingly much he loved her? “I know, my son,” she whispered in his ear and he felt his heart shatter into a thousand little bloody pieces and reassemble in his chest stronger, newer and, finally, whole. “I will always love you no matter what. And I can’t wait to meet you again and hear of the life you have lived.” She beamed at him. “I wish we had more time,” he whispered. “Don’t worry. We will have all the time in Valhalla one day.” Loki lifted both his arms and drew his mother into an embrace that made his broken hand throb and hurt, but he didn’t care. The scent of her and feeling of her hair against his face were all that mattered as the room around them began to fade. He clung to his mother, desperate for just one more second with her, just one… “I’m so proud of you, Loki, my son,” she said and Loki felt his newly healed heart soar. “Loki Friggason,” he whispered as the feeling of her slipped away from him, along with the contours of the room and the colours and the light… The last thing Loki saw before he opened his eyes, was his mother’s brilliant smile.

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki fanfic #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Angst #marvel fanfic #marvel writing challenge #marvel #attie's challenge challenge

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bluehhj · 5 years ago

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listen to me — chapter 42

LISTEN TO ME — 0042

listen to me masterlist;

WORDS: 1.6K

Seungmin barely waited for Chaerin to park the car on the side of the road, and sped off. The Canadian also wasted no time and tried to call the ambulance as she descended the slippery ravine. The wet soil made her sneakers sink and made the task of getting to the scene of the accident even more complicated, but the adrenaline that ran through her veins made her able to get through all the obstacles and set the location for rescuers at the same time.

The lack of lighting also made a lot of things difficult. One of Jisung's car headlights was still on, but the pale yellow light was pointing in the wrong direction. Seungmin turned on the flashlight on his phone and didn't have to think about deciding who should try to help first, and even though he had attended several surgeries at the hospital and witnessed things considered traumatic for many people, he swallowed as he looked at Jinah.

The front window was shattered, and the driver's side door was so damaged that just one pull was enough to make it pop out. Seungmin was puzzled that only the passenger-side airbag was deployed, after all, it was a current car model and was supposed to work properly. His attention, however, wasn't on that detail for more than a few seconds, and then his fingers touched Jinah's bloody neck for some pulse. Seungmin closed his eyes.

On the other side, Chaerin had a little more trouble touching Jisung, since the other door was firmly in place and she had no choice but to finish breaking the already cracked glass. Kwon tried to raise the lock, but it didn't move. She eventually gave up on it when she heard Jisung moan in pain and struggled to punch the airbag away and allow Han to breathe better. His forehead was bruised and there was an ugly cut on his left shoulder which was bleeding considerably, but nothing too serious seemed to have happened to him.

Chaerin took off her sweatshirt, wearing only a white shirt, and folded the fabric vertically to stop the bleeding on Jisung's shoulder. The boy, who was, obviously, stunned, tried to dodge the painful pressure, but Kwon didn't pull away.

"Calm down, it's going to be worse if you move," Chaerin said, squandering a calm she didn't even feel inside. It was the first time she had been helping anyone under those conditions, she wasn't used to so much blood. "There's already an ambulance coming, it'll be fine."

"Don't let him sleep, Chae," warned Seungmin, focused on doing what he could for Jinah, even though his resources were scarce. "It appears to have been a concussion, his blood pressure must remain high so that there is no coagulation or lack of chemicals in the plasma."

"I didn't understand anything you said last, but okay."

It was as if Jisung's head could explode. Even though the pain bothered him, the feeling of helplessness and lack of processing in his mind was a thousand times worse. He had no idea how and why Chaerin and Seungmin were there, nor was he aware of the way the oak slanted after the crash. The only thing Jisung really cared about was Jinah and her snow-white blouse was getting more and more dirty with red.

"J-JinJin..." his right hand touched his girlfriend's arm, but she didn't move. The tears were already running free and salty down Han's face. "No, please, no. You c-can't leave me alone."

"She'll be fine, don't worry" Seungmin lied and forced a weak smile. His hands were soaked with blood that wasn't his own, which made the scene somewhat ironic in the eyes of anyone who could see. Anyone but Jisung, who was so bewildered, that he wanted to hold on to any hope, so he believed Kim's words very strongly.

Han's eyes weighed and he closed them for a moment. Half of his conscience wanted to stay active, but the other half was slowly getting lost. Realizing this, Chaerin fussed with his hair, warning him.

"You can't sleep now, Jisung. C'mon, talk to me about anything, just don't sleep."

"My shoulder hurts."

"I know."

"Then stop squeezing it, damn it."

"I can't," lamented Chaerin. "Blood is still coming out."

"Where the hell is this ambulance?" muttered Seungmin, almost sounding pained. Kwon watched Jisung's sleepy state and, before messing with him again, muttered to Kim:

"On a scale from zero to ten... How much?"

Seungmin met her gaze and knew she was referring to Jinah. Sighing softly, he answered using the same minute intonation: "Two. Maybe three."

"Two what?" Jisung wanted to know.

"Two ambulances" Chaerin brightened when she heard the sirens. The red and blue lights began to glow in the distance. There was little left. "Hold on."

Please.

♡˖°

Jade never thought she could cry watching Toy Story 4.

The purpose of going to the movies was to cheer her up and make her think of nice things that didn't involve her ex-boyfriend — it was so hard to talk like this about Changbin! —, but, when they settled into the soft chairs of the dark room, the american ended up comparing the company of friends to Seo's company and came to the conclusion that eating popcorn without having someone hugging her or stroking her hair was horrible! Not even Chan's affection, Felix's jokes, and the many candies Hyunjin put in her mouth filled Changbin's lack in her life. In short, Jade had red eyes when the credits started to rise. Maybe the snacks they ate at the diner, right after the movie, were the only really good part of the night, but, otherwise, she just wanted her bed and her therapeutic pillow.

"At least you smiled about six times," said Felix, trying to be optimistic. The quartet was standing on the sidewalk of the building where Kang lived. Hyunjin was the driver of the time and still had to take Felix home, but got out of the car anyway to wait for Yoorim, who should have stayed around after Changbin had left. "It's a significant value compared to the rest of the week, right?"

"Right," the corners of Jade's lips merely lifted. After all, she was happy for her friends' attempts. "Thanks for putting up with me."

"You put up with all my existential crises, nothing fairer," said Chan. "And thanks for the ride, Hyunjin."

"I'll charge you next time, just letting you know," Hwang joked, drawing a chuckle from the two boys and one more minimal smile from Jade. His attention was directed to Woojin as he approached the group, alone. Hyunjin, therefore, said, "I thought Yoorim was with you."

"She went home shortly after Jinah left" the elder one shrugged. "Said she had a headache."

"That's weird, she didn't even text me."

"I thought it was kind of weird too, but it's Yoorim. We get it."

The ringing of Jade's phone was the next thing to hear. She fumbled in her pants pockets and picked up the vibrating device. A frown appeared on her forehead as she read the contact's name.

"Why is Chaerin calling me?" she asked rhetorically and answered. "Hello?"

Woojin observed her reactions. From confused, Jade turned unreadable as Chaerin told her something on the other end of the line, then, turned pale as a sheet of paper. Jieun parted her lips and they trembled, her restless eyes starting to water.

"W-where?" she stammered in a small voice and, after a few seconds, muttered a 'thank you' and ended the call.

"What happened?" Chan asked, startled by her mood swings.

"Hospital," Jade gasped, not knowing what to do with her hands, or the words they wanted to run over each other. "Jinah. Jisung. Accident"

"What?!" Hyunjin practically screamed and was driven by the urge to run back to the silver pickup truck. Woojin forced himself not to be robbed by the trance state that came with the news shock and was the first to accompany him, followed by Felix. Chan had to pull Jade into the remaining seats, and then the tires sang down the street, marking only the most turbulent night of their lives.

♡˖°

It was as if Chan was anesthetized.

Most people's biggest mistake is thinking that similar tragedies happen only to others, never to themselves or anyone close to them. When proven otherwise, ecstasy comes in much greater and devastating proportions. It's as if the floor is opening and an infinite void is ready to swallow the rubble, and as much as you blink your eyes and want to wake up, it's not a nightmare. It is real, solid as a stone.

Chan began to shiver when he saw Chaerin and Seungmin at the hospital reception. They paced, restlessly, and if until then he was having trouble believing what had happened, he had only to look through the couple's bloody clothes to have his last proof. Without even asking anything, Chan cried. It was stronger than him, much stronger.

"How are they?" Hyunjin asked, his voice screaming urgency. Jinah had become someone very special in his life, but, above her, came Jisung, his childhood friend, his confidant, his mate, his little brother. Hyunjin didn't want to lose him. He didn't want to lose them both.

"We haven't had any news yet," Chaerin replied.

"But you two were with them before help came! You're a doctor, Seungmin! Of course you know!"

"Jisung will be fine," the younger Kim said slowly, contrasting with Hwang's obvious agony. It was no cold matter, Seungmin was simply being trained to remain calm at times when the collective will consisted of throwing everything into the air.

"And Jinah?" Jade asked.

"As Chaerin said, we haven't had any news yet. She's having surgery now, but..."

"But?" in the face of others hesitation, Woojin encouraged.

"... But I'm so sorry."

a/n: you guys can interpret this last sentence as you wish hehe i'm laughing but i'll just leave it to you guys to create your own theories

i’ll be back soon, byebye <3

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heartofsnark · 6 years ago

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Black Market Wonderland (Chapter Two): Betting Man

Notes: I’m so thankful to all of the positive feedback the first chapter got. Everyone has been so kind. I’ve read every comment, tag, etc on here and AO3, I promise if you’ve left any feedback no matter how small I’ve read it and it’s absolutely made my day and put the biggest dumbest smile on my face. I don’t respond to everything cause there’s not enough time in the day and I’m just a disaster person when it comes to that, but I want you all to know how appreciative I am. I hope you all stick around and continue to enjoy this mess.

Word Count: 8755

Warnings: Some Animal Death (Within a nightmare, no actual animals, the ferret is safe)

Missed the First Chapter? Link Here!

Gilded bars surround her, cold metal chills her skin. The cage swings and shifts, suspended from the ceiling. A chain comes through the top of the cage, connected to a manacle wrapped around her throat. It has just enough slack to let her breathe, but tight enough to restrict her movement and to feel it with every panicky exhale.

Several other cages surround hers, the metals dingier than hers, various shades of tainted gold. Her stomach churns, each is filled with dead little blue bird in various states of decay. The smell of rot and death is overwhelming. Some are nothing but tiny bones with clusters of feathers, other maggots crawling through fetid flesh, and some she can almost convince herself are just sleeping.

Red velvet curtains hang behind her, a stage beneath her. Bright lights flicker on, warming her and the carcasses that surround her. The heat makes the stench worsen, bile rises in the back of her throat.

A crowd looms before the stage, figures filling the seats. Deep vacant eye sockets dripping gold ichor. She can feel their stares, eager malice filled gazes locked entirely on her, sickeningly gleeful grins stretch across their faces.

Her heart pounds and she can’t get a deep enough breath, they’re going to hurt her. She knows this deep inside, she’s prey to them, something to tear apart. Her fingernails break and bloody as she scratches at the manacle around her neck, it won’t come off. It won’t even budge. Her sight blurs, tears sting her eyes and run hot streaks down her face. She grips at the bars and screams at the audience, but nothing. Not a single sound escapes her, the rawness of her throat the only sign she yelled at all.

Something shakes, the bottom of cage shifting slightly. The slack of the chain tightens, if the bottom falls out, she’ll hang.

She grabs at the top of the bars, blood slick fingers sliding off the gold. The bottom continues to shift down, growing more and more unstable. She can’t get a grip, her hands and fingers slipping uselessly from the metal. The slack of chain lessens with each creak down, breathing becomes more and more difficult.

The crowd watches her, enraptured by her struggle, leaning forward, eagerly taking in every sign of her pain. Tears, blood, and gasping all feeding their sadistic pleasure.

It shifts down for the last time, the bottom of the cage going out from under her. She can’t even whimper or gasp as her air is cut off.

She’s hung before the crowd. It’s not fast enough to break her neck, she struggles and claws at the manacle, her lungs burn. Dots swarm before her vision, gold ichor eyes the last thing she sees before everything goes dark.

Tsuneko wakes with a start, coughing and gagging. She takes a few deep breaths, calming herself down. Nightmares aren’t a new experience for her, they’re painfully common. She sits up, the sun is starting to rise.

She’s still on the couch in Oh’s suite, a small stupid part of her was hoping it was a part of the dream too. Her hand is aching and there’s a thick warm blanket pooling around her waist. She didn’t go to sleep with this on her, it’s soft and a part of her wants to just curl back up with it. It’s hard to imagine Oh being kind enough to toss a blanket on her. She rubs the sleep from her eyes and yawns.

Something on the side table catches her eye and she’s scrambling off the couch. It’s her phone, her cute Rilakuma cookie phone case and all. There’s a little bit of a crack on the screen and the case has a small dried blood spot, but it’s still functional. It’s a little silly getting so excited over a phone, but she’ll take any little bit of happiness she can get right now. She checks the time; she’ll be early, but she can head to work. She’d take being five hours early for work over being stuck in this suite for another moment, if it came down to it.

She slips on her shoes, should she leave a note? He gave her the okay to go to work, but if he assumes she ran away, the thought makes her shudder. Tsuneko gets a sticky note out of her pocket, she always keeps them tucked away in her uniform, and jots a not about going to work. She considers signing it, but she can’t imagine too many people are leaving panda sticky notes in his suite, he should know it’s her.

The penthouse halls are vacant and she’s able to duck into the elevator with no problem. She’s able to go down without a key, but she won’t able to come back up. With any luck, she’ll never have to be here again.

She thought about using the locker room shower last night, but Kiyohito has been cooped up since the evening. Not to mention, she’s infinitely more comfortable using her own shower and products. Oh told her that she had to stay on hotel grounds, technically, the dorms are hotel property. So, she’s not disobeying. And she left a note, surely he won’t go on a killing spree because she snuggled her ferret before work.

The elevator reaches the ground floor and opens. Tsuneko all but sprints out of the hotel to her dorm, not even bothering to change out of her uniform first and taking the stairs two at a time.

There’s an immediate sense of calm as she steps into her dorm, the familiarity of it relaxing her. She rushes to Kiyohito’s cage, he’s flopping around without a care. Her hand needs doctoring, but he shouldn’t have to be stuck in his cage any longer for it. She takes him out, careful not to touch him with her injured hand. She’s not sure of the medical benefits of ferret fur in open wounds, but she’s going to venture to guess it’s not good. He excitedly bounces and jumps onto a plushy, claiming a big Pikachu as his friend of the day. She steps into her bathroom, if nothing else he’ll get some play time.

Tsuneko grimaces at her reflection, her hand may be the worst of her injuries, but her face doesn’t look great at the moment. There are bruises across her cheek and temple, where her face slammed into the ground. They’re still fresh marks, red and pink, a faint hint of purple starting to show. Her hair looks like a hurricane has made its way through it, pieces sticking out in every direction. She turns on her shower, stripping down while she waits for the water to heat up.

The steaming hot water eases her tense muscles, a deep sigh escapes her. She starts washing the dried blood off her her injured hand, careful of the tender skin. That’s fairly easy part, the instinct to use that hand to wash the rest her is hard to suppress. Right under ferret fur, she’ll write shampoo on the list of things not to get in open wounds. Her raw flesh stings, but it also smells like roses and honeysuckle now.

She finishes showering and steps out; there’s something about scrubbing off all the grime that makes everything better. Time to treat her hand, she gets her first aid kit from the medicine cabinet. She opens it and bites down on her lip.. A soft whimper escapes her as she pours disinfectant over her hand, a deep sting settling into her bones. The small pink cuts across her fingers should heal easily enough, but the deeper redder one across her palm is sure to leave a mark. She bandages it carefully and he winds up with a mummy hand; but it gets the job done.

Tsuneko goes through the rest of her routine, the normalcy is refreshing. She puts on makeup a little heavier than usual, just enough to cover the bruises. It comes at the cost of covering her freckles, but it’s a needed evil. She tosses the dirty uniform into her laundry basket then changes into some comfy clothes. There’s a clean uniform in her locker for the day, but she’ll need to do laundry tomorrow or tonight

She plugs her phone in to charge and sets an alarm for when she needs to head into work, she doesn’t want to test Oh’s threats by being late. There’s a lot to deal with and a lot to think about, she still hasn’t figured out a solid plan to get out of this. She busies herself with cleaning Kiyo’s cage and refilling his bowl. He gets a nice breakfast of scrambled eggs and steak, his favorite. It’s more than usual, he didn’t get as much attention last night, he deserves extra.

The bed creaks as she plops on it, letting out a heavy sigh. Kiyo, the best fluffy noodle to ever fluffy noodle, climbs up onto her stomach. His dark fur is soft under her hand, he tries to nip her bandages, earning him a soft boop on the nose. What would have happened to him if she had been killed? Pets aren’t technically allowed in the employee dorms. No one else even knows about him. If she had died or not been able to come back, he’d be left all alone. No one would know to come take him in. She hugs him tighter, she can’t let that happen.

She knows what the mature thing to do is; give him to someone who can actually own him. Someone that doesn’t have to worry about that kind of thing. If she was a better person she never would have got him in the first place. But, she’s too selfish to part with him. She doesn’t want to be completely alone, he’s the best thing in her life.

That leaves her with one choice, telling someone about him, making sure they’ll care for him if something happens to her. Her best choices are obvious; Chisato and Sakiko. Chisato is kind and caring, she’d be sure to take good care of Kiyo, but she’s not a huge rule breaker. Sakiko, who works in the casino, is flightier, but she’d be more okay with a little bit of chaos. They balance each other well and are the friendliest with her at the hotel. She’ll have to invite them over, the first time she’s had people in her dorm. The idea already makes her uncomfortable, but Kiyo’s worth it.

“Okay, Kiyo,” she sits up and puts him in front of her, “we need an action plan.”

A part of her knows how silly it is to make plans with her ferret, but she likes thinking out loud and she’d rather direct her thoughts at something with a pulse than the walls, To his credit, Kiyo always seems to go along with it, never wandering off during one of her spiels.

“First things first, I need to invite Kurihara and Koizumi over. Now, when they get here, you need to be as cute as ferretly possible, understood?” his tongue bleps out, “I see you’re already on it, good boy.”

She grabs her phone and starts typing in a to-do list, putting ‘Invite’ as the top thing. It’s best not to get into too many details, considering her situation, she doesn’t want someone to see her phone and figure it out.

“Next, I’ll need to do some research, going in blind is never a good idea,” another item for the list, “I think sticking to my original escape plan should stay plan A. He might have just been in a bad mood last night, he might listen to reason more today.”

Kiyo makes a soft dooking noise and jumps, she’ll take that as agreement.

“Hmmm, if I’m lucky, they won’t even bother me. But, I’m not that luc-” She hops off the bed, the good luck talisman, she forgot all about it. Kiyo is bouncing after her, his noises getting louder, he thinks it’s play time.

She fishes the talisman out of her dirty uniform. She’ll have to drop it off in lost and found today. She doesn’t really believe in good luck charms, it obviously didn’t work for her yesterday, but she can tell how precious it must be to the owner. Her alarm goes off as she’s tucks it into her pocket.

She’s giving Kiyo smooches as she takes him to his cage, putting him in the level with all of his toys. He seems content, already chewing on them, but she makes a note to play an extra long game of tag with him tonight.

Tsuneko triple checks she has everything before leaving, her chest is tight as she heads to the Tres Spades. Yesterday, it was her busy little safe haven, but now it’s like walking into a war zone. She hopes they’ll leave her alone, that somehow this entire mess will fade away like a bad memory. But, that’s far too idealistic and she knows it.

The employee locker room is a flurry of activity, everyone getting ready for the work day. Sakiko and Chisato catch her attention, her locker is between theirs. She takes a deep breath and makes her way over.

“Tsuneko!” Sakiko’s eyes widen, her movements bouncy. Chisato gives a soft smile.

“Hey, Koizumi, Kurihara,” Tsuneko greets as she gets out her uniform.

“Ugh, god, I’m barely older than you, can you please just call me Sakiko?!”

“The more you whine, the less I wanna do it,” Tsuneko tease and Sakiko pouts at her.

“You can just call me Chisato too, by the way,” she says through a laugh.

“Okay, Chisato.” The names feels a bit odd on her lips, she likes keeping a certain amount of distance, but she has known the two for almost a year and she’s going to trust them enough to care for Kiyo.

“Hey! That’s not fair!”

“That’s life,” Tsuneko finishes changing into her uniform and make sure it’s in place. It’s still tight around her chest and stomach, she needs to request a size up, but she keeps forgetting.

“By the way, what happened yesterday?” Chisato asks, her eyes focus on Tsuneko’s bandaged hand, “Kenzaki said you had to go home early.”

“Oh, one of the shelves in the storage room came down on top of me, I’m fine though.” The lie comes out easy, but her stomach churns at the confirmation that Kenzaki knows about the auctions and is covering for them. He’s always been an odd guy, but she has a lot of respect for him.

“Are you going to be able to work like that?”

“Yeah, I have painkillers, I’ll manage. Yesterday was just a bad day.”

“It wasn’t all bad though.” Sakiko’s smiling like the cat that ate the canary

“How you figure?” Tsuneko raises an eyebrow as she puts her hair up.

“Duh, you got up close and personal with The King!”

“Ichinomiya?”

“You finally figured out who he was?” Chisato smiles at Tsuneko’s past stupidity.

“Not as quick, as I would have liked to, but yes.”

“Your heart must have been racing! He’s handsome and worth billions, women chase after him everywhere he goes. What did he smell like? I bet he wears super expensive cologne.” Sakiko’s words come out in a rush, she bounces on the balls of her feet, and her eyes are downright sparkling.

“He smelled like an entitled dickhead, because that’s all he is.” Someone like Ichinomiya doesn’t deserve someone like Sakiko swooning over him.

“Ugh, don’t burst my bubble like that.”

“If I don’t reality will.”

“Chisato agrees with me, right?”

“Uhhhhh, he looks like a man.” Chisato shrugs.

“Pfffft, that he does.” Tsuneko grins and tries not to laugh, Sakiko thumps her head against her locker.

“Why do I bother?”

“Hey!” Erika yells out and marches towards Tsuneko with the twins in tow, “What do you think you’re doing getting hurt at work?”

“I assure you, it wasn’t intentional.”

“If you’re too hurt to work, you might as well go home, otherwise you’re just going to get in the way!”

“Get in the way!” Rina and Kana parrot, maybe they just like feeling included?

“I’ll do my best to keep up, sorry for any trouble,”

“And,” Erika’s face flushes a dark pink, “would you order a new uniform already, what if a guest saw you like that!”

Tsuneko looks down, one of the buttons came undone on her uniform, her pink bra and cleavage peeking through. Her face heats up and she clamors to fix it.

“I’ll put in an order shortly.”

“You better, now hurry up, we have a morning meeting!”

“Hurry up!” One final comment, if you can call it that, and the trio marches out of the locker room.

“Why does she hate you so much?” Sakiko asks, long ponytail waving with the shake of her head.

“Fuck if I know, fuck if I care.”

“She doesn’t hate you,” Chisato explains, Tsuneko stares at her with wide eyes, what the hell does she mean by that?

“She just yelled at me for getting hurt.” Tsuneko rolls her eyes.

“That’s her way of telling you to be careful and to go home if you’re not feeling well,” Chisato says softly, her big sister energy hitting max level.

“You speak Erika now?” Sakiko raises an eyebrow, just as confused as Tsuneko.

“No, I speak gay.”

“Are you seriously implying she likes me?”

“Not implying, just letting you know.”

“You’re delusional.” Tsuneko shakes her head and lets out a sigh, this is ridiculous. She gets her binders out and shuts her locker.

“You’ll see, lets get to the meeting,” Chisato reminds them of work and they all leave the locker room.

The meeting room is slowly filling, coworkers drifting in, they all plop down in chairs to wait. Tsuneko will invite out during her lunch break, it might be a little weird to jump into inviting them to her dorm. She’ll ask them to go get something to eat, then hang out at her place. Her fridge is still out of booze, maybe she’ll invite them drinking first. If they’re a little tipsy, they might be more okay with the whole illegal ferret thing.

“Tomori!” A cheerful voice catches her eye, it’s one of the maids, Yayoi.

“You need something?”

“I wanted to thank you for taking over my shift yesterday, I got really sick and I heard you got hurt, I’m so sorry for the trouble.” She bows her head, mess of orange hair falling in her face. Technically, this isn’t her fault, but Tsuneko can’t help grimacing. If she hadn’t been called in, she wouldn’t be in this mess. God damn it, Yayoi.

“It’s fine, don’t sweat it.” Her tone comes out colder than she wants, but Yayoi doesn’t seem bothered, taking a seat as the meeting starts.

Tsuneko’s mind wanders off and on through the meeting, more than she’d care to admit. It’s hard to focus on day to day work stuff when she’s dealing with being bought. They wouldn’t be so stupid to do anything to draw attention to themselves or the situation, so she should be allowed a normal work day.If she’s lucky, they’ll just keep an eye on her and her life won’t change much. She fiddles with the charm in her pocket.

Relying on that would be naive though, at the very least, she should have enough time to think of back up plans in case the rational approach doesn’t work. She’s scheduled to work alone today, so she should be able to sneak some phone research during lulls in activity as well as on her break.

She wants this whole thing to end. It’s ridiculous that someone could even want to own her, but Ichinomiya seems like a genuinely garbage human being. As much as she’d like to believe he was just in a bad mood, everything about the man makes her skin crawl. From refusing to let her speak to insisting he’s the determiner of her worth, he’s a repulsive person. She’ll need to start coming up with other plans and quick.

“We also have a very important announcement. We’re adding a new job position here at the Tres Spades regarding the penthouse suites.”

The mention of the penthouse makes her snap back to attention, her glare on Kenzaki. They can’t be that stupid.

“I’ve been the one tending to the penthouse for a while, but we’ve deemed it necessary to promote a maid to take care of the penthouse and it’s guests from now on.”

This has to be a coincidence. They have to know this will raise red flags, she hasn’t even been here a year. Her stomach draw tight and she sinks into her seat. Erika catches her eye, excitement radiating off the head maid. She’s been here since the beginning, if anyone deserves a promotion it’s her.

“The penthouse maid will be responsible for cleaning the suites and lounge, as well as attending to the needs of the guests staying there. They will be expected to prioritize the penthouse and it’s guests, but still be responsible for their regular duties. It’s a big responsibility and a lot of time was spent thinking over who would get the position.”

If any gods are listening, please save her, please let it be a coincidence and Erika is getting promoted. Just let her have that, she grips tighter to the good luck talisman, just a little luck. That’s all she wants.

“It’s with a lot of pride, I announce that Tomori Tsuneko will our new penthouse maid.”

“Seriously!”

“What!?”

Tsuneko and Erika’s both yell out, the headmaid slams her hands down and jolts from her seat. Her sharp brown eyes glare at Tsuneko, who sinks further in her seat.

“With all due respect,” Erika continues, “Tomori hasn’t even been here a year. She’s barely shown herself capable of taking care of normal guests, let alone the penthouse guests. I cannot accept this!”

“Cannot accept this!” Rina and Kana jump up too, three glares now focus on Tsuneko. She fidgets with the charm in her pocket. Good luck charm, her ass.

“I agree!” She yells back, standing up to meet their gazes, “If anyone should take it, I think it should be Matsuda, she’s been here since the beginning, and deserves it more than anyone.”

Erika and Tsuneko have had their differences, they’ve butted heads over a lot of things, but that doesn’t change the facts. Granted, Tsuneko also really doesn’t want to deal with the penthouse guests, but Erika takes her work seriously and is a model employee. Being passed over for a promotion she damn well deserves because of some bullshit situation isn’t right. Erika has every right to feel cheated.

“I appreciate both of your concerns and I know you both just want the best for the Tres Spades,” Kenzaki takes his usual diplomatic approach, “However, seniority doesn’t decide promotions and Tomori was chosen specifically by Mr. Ichinomiya. I’m confident that she’s more than capable of excelling in this position. That will be all, everyone is dismissed, except Tomori. I have some things to go over with you, regarding your new position. Everyone go and work hard today.”

Everyone starts to file out, Erika and the twins linger a while longer to glare, before they finally leave. Tsuneko rakes a hand down her face, she’s alone with Kenzaki now. If it was a legitimate promotion she’d probably be excited, even if she thinks Erika deserves it more. Even if she isn’t crazy about working as a maid, she wants to be damn good one and a promotion would show her hard work is paying off. But, that’s not what this is. It’sa way for them to keep her under their thumb.

“So, what do you need to talk to me about?”

“You’ll be needing these,” Kenzaki hands her an elevator key and a two way pager, “he penthouse guests will be able to page you whenever they need you. I’ve already said this, but I’ll reiterate that you’re to prioritize the penthouse while still taking care of normal guests.”

“So, I’m now a maid and their bitch.”

“I know you’ll do well,” Kenzaki says, smiling as he leave the room. She’s starting to rethink the amount of respect she has for that man. She adds the pager and key to her growing amount of pocket junk, before she steps into the lobby.

Eventually, she’ll have to go to the penthouse, but she’s not in a rush. Unless she’s paged, she can save it for the end of her shift and she fully intends to. She gets a cleaning cart and takes a deep breath before she starts work.

The added duties of coming up with escape plans and researching the penthouse guests, makes her day seem busier. In a way, she almost enjoys it. Lulls in work usually bore her, but she’d rather anything else be causing her busier day.

She’s finishes cleaning a bathroom, then gets her phone out and takes a moment to search Ichinomiya. He’s the most important one, the biggest priority. Everything she finds seems so surface level, his taking over the Ichinomiya group Zaibatsu and opening the Tres Spades. His net worth makes her choke, money is definitely not the issue. His pocket change is probably more than she’s ever seen in her life. He can’t be concerned about the twenty-million, his back count probably generate more than that a minute. There are a few gossipy rumor spreading tabloid articles, but nothing with any evidence. A few fluff articles that do nothing but gush about his looks, her eyes roll at those. No major legal problems or scandals. He’s good at hiding thing from the public eye, like any business man. She’s gives up on finding much else after the fifth google page and goes to clean the rest of the room.

It’s on an elevator ride to the next floor, alone, that she does some searching on Oh Soryu. Nothing relevant pops up for his name, as expected of someone in a crime syndicate, he’s kept a low profile. The Ice Dragons mafia brings up more relevant information. They’re a known Chinese criminal syndicate, part of the Triads, but there’s not a lot of information. Other than a few small incidents, the Ice Dragons have stayed off the radar. he’s able to find general information on triads, the structure of them. She finds a list of the thirty-six oaths member supposedly take during initiation. She’s not sure how legitimate they are. A skim through shows the oaths emphasize not hurting women or children. If Oh abides by these, he might not be her biggest threat, she saves the huge list to read more thoroughly later.

An hour or two later, she’s made a bed, the rest of the room doesn’t need a lot of attention. Kisaki is her next research subject. He’s called the Angelic Artist, his conniving shit face smirk come to mind and makes her groan. Definitely more gremliny than angelic. Art is not her thing, but she can tell he’s good. His works suck the viewer in, a clear passion behind it. He’s renowned in the art world and even a novice like her can tell why. There are plenty of people gushing about how attractive he is and how sweet he supposedly is. All pictures are of that fake smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. No scandals or mentions of criminal activity, he’s apparently involved in the fashion world as well. A few passing things mention his “come back”, like he took a hiatus, she’d guess. The paparazzi seem fixated on him, she didn’t know artists got that kind of attention.

Her lunch break comes around and she makes a beeline for a seat. She didn’t bring in anything to eat and she doesn’t bother to get anything from the serving area. There’s too much to do and not enough time to do it. She sets her binders out in front of her and gets out her phone.

Next is Baba, he said he’s a thief and understandably his name doesn’t turn up anything of interest. But, she remembers seeing a few news articles about a thief in passing. He’s called Lupin something, she searches around for that, he’s apparently been seen in brightly colored suits and his heists all have some level of dramatic flair. It’s hard to find much, though he doesn’t seem it, Baba does apparently have the ability to be subtle. A few articles mention of trend of his targets later being revealed to have committed crimes themselves, it doesn’t seem like a coincidence. Maybe he fancies himself a Robin Hood type?

“Are you not eating?” Chisato asks, her and Sakiko are sitting down at the table.

“I’m not hungry, my stomach’s been in knots,” Tsuneko tucks her phone away and gets to doing work for guests. Mostly requests for pamphlets and brochures, wanting ideas on what to do with their time here. A few asking for special accommodations or items. She organizes what she needs, putting things together with cute paperclips and sticky notes of who needs what.

“Are you nervous about the promotion?”

“You could say that.” She’s thought of a plan B, but she doesn’t like it, her leg bounces.

“Look,” Chisato starts, eyes soft, “I don’t care what you or Erika say, you’re going to do great.”

“Appreciate it, but she’s not wrong. I can’t really get why they promoted me.”

“I know why.” Sakiko says, a sing songy lilt to her voice.

“Oh, enlighten me, beacon of wisdom.” Tsuneko rolls her eyes, this is going to be stupid.

“Love at first sight,” Sakiko lets out a dreamy sigh.

“What?”

“Think about it, you bump into The King yesterday and now he’s promoting you to keep you close,” she explains the asinine thoughts going through her head.

“That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said, which is saying a lot,” Tsuneko shakes her head and grabs a cookie off Sakiko’s tray, earning a pout from her.

“He was pretty rude, yesterday,” Chisato says, shaking her head at Sakiko’s bullshit.

“He was a dickhead and a half is what he was.” Tsuneko grumbles through a bite of cookie.

““So, some guys are bad with feelings. Maybe he was so overwhelmed that he said the wrong thing. It’s love- and I thought you weren’t hungry!” Her focus shift as Tsuneko grabs a strawberry off her plate.

“It’s a stupidity fee, you say something stupid, I take your food.” Tsuneko tosses the fruit in her mouth.

“What if he confesses to you?”

“That’s gonna cost you another strawberry.” She bites down on another.

“Hey!”

“If you want to eat today, I suggest you be quiet,” Chisato teases.

“I’m being serious, what would you do?”

“If he confessed to me,” Tsuneko pretends to think for a moment, “I’d puke.”

“You’re the only person I know who’d turn down a man like that,” Sakiko laments, pulling the rest of her lunch away protectively.

“That’s just depressing,” she swallows down the stolen fruit, “by the way, um, do you guys wanna hang out tonight?”

Her face is warm and the words came out more awkward than she would’ve liked. Sakiko and Chisato’s eyes widen. Tsuneko shrinks down in her seat and stares at the floor. She considers them work friends, just work friends. The last time she spent time with any of them outside of work was her first day here, a small party held by all her coworkers to welcome her. All she remembers of the night is getting blackout drunk. It’s been a long time since she’s had friends, without any caveats or precursors.

“Oh my god, you’re so cute!” Sakiko gives a huge smile and Chisato has a softer one.

“Shut up! Do you wanna hang out or not?!” The words come out as a squeak and her face is on fire, she’s not cute, damn it.

“Yes!”

“Sounds fun, any idea where you want to go?”

“The casual little bar up the road?” Tsuneko offers, if it’s not during their shift they’re allowed to drink at the hotel bar and get a small discount, but she wants to get away from the hotel.

“Oh, yeah, I know where you’re talking about, we can meet up there after work.”

They all agree to the plans, Sakiko and Chisato are weirdly excited. Tsuneko feels warm and fuzzy, do they really want to spend time with her that bad? She starts tidying up her binders and sticky notes. She’s researched all of the penthouse residents, she has a risky plan B, and has everything in order for the guests.

“Oh, uh, Tomori?” A male voice catches her attention, it’s a male concierge Takahiro.

“Hey, Kuroba.” She can’t imagine what he needs from her.

“This is yours right?” He’s holding pastel pink Pokemon tupperware, a Sylveon design on the top and her panda sticky note still stuck on it.

“Yes!” She sits up and takes it from him, “with everything yesterday, I forgot all about it, thank you, so much.”

She’s hugging it to her chest, it’s a limited edition and if she lost it she’d have a hell of a time finding a replacement.

“Glad, I got it back to you then.” His face looks a little red, but that might be her imagination. Or he’s been running around all day.

“Um, how’d you know it was mine?” She remembers herself and blushes, she didn’t want people to know she did it. It may seem stupid, but something about it is embarrassing.

“You’re the only person I know who uses sticky notes like that.” He points at the sticky notes on her binder. Panda sticky notes on a kitty binder, she’s a twenty-two year old woman.

“Uh, yeah….I like cute stuff.” She blushes down to her chest, but shrugs. It’s stupid to be embarrassed by the things she likes. She’s an adult and if she wants to surround herself with all things adorable, she has the right to. But, she’s also well aware that it changes people’s impression of her. Apparently, it’s hard to take someone seriously when they’re using a bunny pen.

“Wait, you made those cookies, Tsuneko!?” Sakiko blurts out and Tsuneko sinks further into her seat. God, she wants to die.

“Yeah….I guess.”

“They were so good, everyone loved them! I didn’t know you could bake!” Sakiko’s words jumble together and Tsuneko thought she got too excited over food.

“Uh, yeah, I like sweets,” Tsuneko murmurs, staring at the table.

“Feel free to bring more in any time, everyone really appreciated them,” Takahiro puts a comforting hand on her shoulder and smiles, “by the way has your hand been giving you any trouble, Tomori?”

“Not really, it hurts, but I’m getting my work done.” She relaxes a bit, it was nice of him to change the subject.

“Well, if you need any help just let me know, it can’t be easy getting hurt and having more work on top of it.”

“I appreciate it, but don’t worry, besides cleaning rooms isn’t really your job. If I need a hand, I’m sure one of the other maids will help.” It doesn’t exactly make sense to ask a concierge to help with maid work, even if it’s a kind offer.

“Uh, yeah,” his face is red again, “that’s true, but my offer stands, don’t push yourself. Um, I have to get back to work, see you later.”

Tsuneko waves him off as he scampers away, he’s a nice guy, but that was…awkward. She gathers up her things, the lunch break is about over.

“Are you both ready to go?” Chisato sighs and Sakiko pinches the bridge of her nose, “what’s wrong?”

“I swear to god Tsuneko.” Sakiko looks ready to fall over.

“What?!”

“Romance isn’t your strong suit, huh?” Chisato shakes her head.

“What?”

“Kuroba. Likes. You,” Sakiko drags every word out.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Oh my god, I’m going to scream.” Sakiko grabs at her head, she’s being ridiculous.

“Let it go, Sakiko, she’s hopeless.” Chisato stands up with her tray and leaves the table.

“Hey, what's that supposed to mean!?” Tsuneko yells out as Sakiko follows behind Chisato. She’s left alone, yelling at a cafeteria table. A few coworkers shoot her funny looks and she runs off with her face flushing.

She puts her tupperware in her locker before going back to work. Putting the break time weirdness from her mind, she focuses on her job. She still hasn’t been paged and without a plan she feels confident in, she’s dragging it out as much as she can. Her plan B is risky at best, stupid at worse.

She’s reaching the end of her regular work schedule when the pager goes off. Her heart catches in her throat and her blood runs cold. She snatches it from her pocket, almost dropping it as she tries to figure out how it works. Who the fuck uses pagers anymore?

“Be in the penthouse in five minutes,” Ichinomiya’s voices comes out from the pager, she apparently found the answer button. The penthouse is further than five minutes away, but she’s trying to catch the asshole in a good mood, being late or making excuses won’t do her any favors.

“Right away, sir,” she tries to respond, but she has no idea if it goes through, because pagers confuse her.

She uses her cleaning cart as a scooter through the more vacant halls, trying to shave off even a few seconds off her time. It still takes her longer than she’d like to make it to the penthouse elevator. Having to walk in front of guests, because professionalism, dooms her.

The elevator carriage lurches into movement and she takes a deep breath. She’s going to try the rational approach again, she decided that long ago. But, her backup plan, oh god she doesn’t want to rely on her backup plan. It’s all she could think of.

Starting the first legal casino, mention of just how hard he fought to pass the laws needed to create it, everything about the hotel is themed around this. The name of the hotel is the Tres Spades for god’s sake. It’d be clear to anyone, Ichinomiya is a betting man.

The elevator comes to a stop and she scoots on her cleaning cart to the lounge doors. She steps back off, double checks her uniform is in order, before trudging inside.

“Excuse me, I was paged.” All of the men from last night are there.

“You’re two minutes late,” Ichinomiya says coldly, “go make me coffee.”

“My apologies sir,” she forces her customer service voice, “how do you take your coffee?”

“Three sugars and milk.” He doesn’t bother to look up from whatever forms he’s reading over.

“Understood, would anyone else like something to drink?”

“Aww, how thoughtful,” Baba comments with a sickly sweet smile.

“She’s trying to be a good girl,” Kisaki teases, is he ever not smirking?

She bites her lip and clenches her fist, a fresh ache of pain shoots through her injured hand. The rest of the men tell her what they want to drink and she makes her way to the kitchen area of the lounge. Her mind wanders as she puts together the drinks, she wants nothing more than to just confront the elephant in the room. Blunt and straightforward suits her best, it’s how she likes dealing with stuff.

“Shit,” she curses under her breath, she’s poured more milk in than she meant to, Ichinomiya’s coffee has barely a tint of brown to it. Not a good start, but he’ll get upset if she takes too long, she decides to bite the bullet and take the drinks in as is.

“Need any help, pretty lady?” Baba asks when she steps out, a pointed look at her bandaged hand.

“No, thank you.” Even if he’s being genuine, she doesn’t trust him or anyone here as far as she can throw them. She sets the tray down and places everyone’s drinks in front of them.

“Thank you, princess, you know if you wanted I could have taken care of you hand.”

“No one wants to play doctor with you, old man,” Kisaki tells him.

“I just wanted to give her some tender loving care.” Baba winks at her and she rolls her eyes, even if she’s trying to be nice, she can only take so much.

“Can’t believe the kid stabbed one of ‘em.” Kishi has a grin on his face, like it’s funny. It’s the most personality she’s seen out of him, in all honesty she forgot he existed.

“Should we hide the vases or something?” Kisaki looks at the glass vases on some of the tables.

“She should be thankful she’s even alive,” Oh cuts in, voice as harsh as ever.

“Enough,” Ichinomiya gives Tsuneko an intense stare and points at a chair near him, “sit.”

She bites her lip and glares at him. It takes every measure of her self control to sit down and not scream.

“Aww, she’s already learned how to sit, good girl, Koro,” Kisaki pretends to coo over her.

“Sign this.” Ichinomiya plops a stack of documents into her lap, a quick glance shows it’s a confidentiality agreement. He’s going with her original idea, she didn’t even have to plead her case, maybe he was just messing with her last night? Getting some laughs before he drew up the papers.

“You can practically see her tail wagging.”

“Great!” she ignores Kisaki, “I’ll just sign this and we’ll forget this whole thing ever happened.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ichinomiya brings his coffee to his lips and takes a drink, a hint of a smile on his lips, “we still own you, this is just some extra assurance you won’t try to tell anyone about the auctions.”

“What!?”

“I’m not repeating myself.”

“Look, with all-”

“This isn’t open for discussion.”

“Yes it is, I’m discussing right now in fact!” She jolts from her seat, letting the papers fall, and glares at Ichinomiya. All hints of composure or calm have left her. What is this guy’s problem? Kisaki hides away the vase nearest to him.

“I see you’ve dropped the goody-two shoes act.” He’s still smirking and if it wouldn’t destroy her hand right now, she’d punch him.

“I’m sorry, you all wasted your money on me, but it was just that, a waste! There’s nothing I can do for any of you and no reason to keep me!” She shakes her clenched fists and her face feels like it’s on fire, this is the stupidest fucking thing. Ichinomiya stands up, he towers over her.

“I don’t need a reason.” His voice is calm, the fact he can be so calm while she’s fuming pisses her off even more.

“Yes, you fucking do!”

“I bought you, I own you. When I tell you something, you say ‘yes’ or ‘okay’, there is no third option. Understood?”

“Fuck off.”

“Well, I think that’s enough negotiations for one day.” Baba claps his hands together, trying to end the argument. Ichinomiya scowls at her and she doesn’t look away.

“I can still get rid of her, if you want,” Soryu offers, his hand moving underneath his jacket.

“Don’t worry,” a devious glint lights Ichinomiya’s eyes, “I’ll find a use for her.”

He turns on the heels of his feet, he’s ending the discussion, but she’s not. It’s time for plan B.

“You want to bet?” She yells out and crosses her arms over her chest, Ichinomiya stops in his tracks, just before the winding staircase. She hates risky moves, but he loves them. Her heart hammers in her chest, but she forces a cold expression as he turns to face her.

“A bet?”

“Two weeks to find a ‘use for me and determine my worth’,” she mimics his voice at the end, “It has to be something specific to me, no cop out bullshit, nothing just anyone could do. If by the end of the month, I haven’t done anything to benefit you, it means there’s no point in owning me and we forget the whole thing. If you do find a use for me, it means I’m worth owning and I’ll stop fighting you on it.”

For the first time since this entire mess started, it looks like Ichinomiya’s listened to her. He breaks eye contact and seems to consider her words for a moment, his amused grin never leaves his face.

“During the two weeks, you’re not to take a vacation, quit, avoid me, or any other forms of running. You will still act as an employee and can’t shirk any responsibilities for the sake of the bet.”

“Fair enough, we have a deal?” Tsuneko offers her non-injured hand, her gaze and Ichinomiya’s meet, each challenging the other to back down.

“I don’t lose,” he warns as he shakes her hand, his skin warm against hers and his grip firm.

“There’s a first time for everything.”

He rolls his eyes then turns back around, descending up the stairs, her hand still warm from his grasp. She lets out a heavy breath, this is the last thing she wanted. There’s a pit in her stomach and she regrets stealing that food at lunch, she feels like she’s about to puke. Her hand finds the good luck charm still in her pocket, the feel of the worn fabric has become an odd comfort, maybe she’ll hold onto it for a while longer. If good luck exists, she needs as much of it as she can get.

#kissed by the baddest bidder #kbtbb #eisuke ichinomiya #Soryu Oh #Mitsunari Baba #ota kisaki #mamoru kishi #kbtbb eisuke #kbtbb soryu #kbtbb baba #kbtbb ota #kbtbb mamoru #black market wonderland

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andinewton · 7 years ago

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Born To Be King - Avengers Redemption Series - Part Three - Chapter 2

Characters: Loki, Sigyn; pretty much everyone from the MCU appears at some point!

Pairings: Loki x Sigyn; Bucky x Amelia

Warnings: Smut, canon typical violence, swearing

Word Count: 60k + (complete with ongoing epilogues)

Summary:

He never wanted the throne...

Loki's life seems to be charmed of late. His dead wife has been reborn and has married him once more, they have beautiful twin boys, and they are working and living with The Avengers. The only blot on his otherwise perfect landscape is the constant friction Odin seems to be able to cause with one simple request delivered by Thor. Odin wishes to meet the twins but will not cancel Loki's banishment, allowing him to travel to Asgard with his wife and children. Loki finally caves but has a sense of foreboding about the trip which proves to be all too true...Join Loki, Sigyn and the team as they fight to find one another against all odds and protect their sons from those who would have them as their kings.

Master list

Chapter 2

Summary: Darcy and Sigyn’s lady date is ruined.

‘So you’re going to Asgard tomorrow for old Odin to meet the scamps?’ Darcy asked as she stirred her coffee.

‘Just Vali. Narvi is still sniffling.’ Sigyn admitted.

‘My poor baby.’ Darcy said before she licked her spoon. ‘Do you think he’ll let you take any photos?’

‘Maybe.’ She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Darcy. ‘I don’t know how Odin would feel about being plastered all over the world wide web though.’

‘Ask him. If he says no I won’t post anything, but you have to get some for the family album.’

‘I will, I promise.’ Sigyn smiled, knowing Darcy was referring to the beautiful album she had started of memories for the couple. She sat back in her chair with her coffee held in both hands, the bustle of the coffee shop a welcome respite from the isolation brought on by having a sick child.

‘And you think Loki will cope with Narvi on his own when he’s ill? Because that kid has serious grumpy pants right now.’ Darcy waved her danish at her.

‘That’s why I’m here with you now.’ She smiled slightly. ‘Test run. If Loki and Thor can’t manage without me for a few hours then I won’t go until Narvi is better. Odin will just have to wait. It helps to know Auntie Darcy will be on hand though.’

‘Damn right I am. And Odin’s waited this long.’ Darcy shrugged. ‘Not happily, but he has.’

‘I know he wanted to meet the boys before now, but it’s taken this long to get Loki to agree, and Odin didn’t exactly ask to meet them as soon as they were born.’

‘He’s missed so much already. Rolling over, first solids, sitting up.’ Darcy had become a full time fixture at The Tower since the birth of the twins, aiding Jane remotely when she needed to, she just didn’t want to miss anything and Sigyn appreciated it as she had no family of her own nearby.

‘His sons’ reaction to their first dirty diaper.’ Sigyn smirked at the memory. Thor had wanted to help, Loki had wanted to try on his own as the doting father, and both had ended up retching over the sink. It was hilarious. Thankfully they had quickly got over the initial shock and were now both absolute professionals. ‘He would have been so proud.’

‘I am still sorry I didn’t get that on video.’ Darcy grinned. ‘The Asgardian Avengers with weak stomachs.’ They both laughed and Sigyn sipped her coffee before putting it on the table and picking up her cookie. The homemade treats here were amazing, and although it was a bit of a trek, almost all the way to Queens to find this little gem of a cafe, Sigyn agreed with Darcy it was totally worth it.

‘It’s weird being out without them.’ She admitted. ‘All of them, Lo included.’

‘I keep telling you, you need to stretch the apron strings, just a little. You’re more than a mommy and a wife. When was the last time you went on a mission?’

Sigyn thought for a moment. ‘I guess it was the bomb scare on the subway.’

‘Two months ago, and right on the doorstep.’ She shook her head. ‘That’s not a mission, that was a spot check. You need to get back on the horse, Sigy. Make hot mischief man stay home with the bubbas from time to time. You’re just as valuable a member of the team as he is.’

‘It’s not that I’m not allowed to go, I don’t feel right leaving the boys, not when we don’t know how long the mission might be. Loki understands that, which is why he’s been doing the overnight missions.’ She explained. ‘I think it’s a hormone thing.’

‘Hormones suck.’ Darcy complained around her bite of danish. ‘Only reason I believe God might be a man is because we have so much more shit to put up with as women.’

‘I’ll drink to that.’ Sigyn toasted her with her cup.

‘When you get back from Asgard we have to have another girls night. We’re way overdue and our lounge is getting dusty.’

‘I’d like that. And Amelia promised to make peanut butter krispies for the next one.’

‘Oh they are awesome, I forgot that she said that. Speaking of sweet treats that go straight to my hips, can you bring me back some of those little coated cherries from Asgard that Sif got me for my birthday? Damn things are addictive.’

Sigyn laughed. ‘Sure thing.’

‘Nice.’

‘Hey, Darce?’ Sigyn said, looking across the room.

’S’up?’ She said as she pushed the last of her danish in her mouth.

‘I think the guy on the stool in the corner is eyeing you up.’

‘Is he cute?’ She sprayed the table with crumbs and Sigyn covered her mouth with her hand to hide her laugh.

‘I guess, in a non god of mischief kind of way.’ She shrugged. ‘Dark blonde, brown eyes, and oh shit he’s coming over.’ She grabbed her cup and was suddenly very interested in its contents as she took a drink.

‘What do I say?’ Darcy said with her hand over her lips as she was still chewing.

‘Nothing until your mouth is empty.’ Sigyn hissed as the guy reached the table and smiled up at him.

‘Excuse me, ladies?’ He looked between them. He was handsome enough, for a regular guy, and smiled warmly at them. ‘I don’t normally do this, but have we met before?’ He looked directly at Sigyn who choked on her coffee.

She shook her head. ‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘But you’re so familiar, I feel like I already know you.’ He raised an eyebrow and his smile became, well, kind of creepy, actually. ‘Maybe we met in a previous life.’

‘Oh shit, this is hilarious!’ Darcy laughed as she picked up her phone off the table and started filming him. ‘Okay, keep talking because I want to see you crash and burn.’

The man gave her a confused look before turning the charm back on with Sigyn. ‘Do you believe in fate?’

‘Actually, yes.’ Sigyn leant back in her seat again, her cup back on the table.

The man regained the sparkle in his eyes and pulled up a chair. ‘I think my fate has brought me to you.’ He reached for her hand and she took it out of his reach.

‘Yeah, no, I don’t think it did.’ She held up her other hand to show him her wedding ring. ‘Fate already furnished me with true love.’

The man gave a small defeated smile before turning to Darcy. ‘And what has fate done for you?’

‘Given me a great rack and an amazing sense of humour. You had better be in a different zip code when her husband sees this, because he’s the irrational jealous type.’

He opened his mouth to reply when there was an almighty crash from the street outside, the window shaking and everyone jumping, some screaming. People started running in one direction down the street, yelling and shouting, and Sigyn sighed as she pulled a hair band off her wrist and stood as she bundled her hair back into a high ponytail. ‘Darce, call The Tower.’ She said as she called up her armour and sword followed by the standard issue earpiece, slotting it in with a practiced hand.

‘I knew I’d seen you before!’ The man pointed at her as she walked around him.

‘Then you might also remember who my husband is.’ She said with a wink and was amused to see him swallow as she walked away.

‘Repeat, we have an attack of unknown origin close to Flushing Meadows Corona Park. All available agents state their location and ETA.’ Came an operators voice through her earpiece

‘Sigyn here, I’m not far from there. Will radio back when I’m on the scene.’ She stated as she reached the curb to find people frantically running away from what looked like a plume of smoke emitting from the centre of the street, almost filling all the lanes and at least fifteen feet high. ‘Okay, turns out I’m actually already there.’

‘Cherry Bomb,’ Stark’s voice came over the comm, ‘I’m five minutes from your location. What do you have?’

‘A huge blossom of smoke that could be hiding anything and,’ she turned as she sensed movement above and behind her in time to see a red and blue streak swing between buildings, ‘your little spider boy is here.’

‘He doesn’t like to be called boy.’ Tony replied.

‘No boy ever does.’ She muttered as he disappeared into the fog. ‘He’s gone straight in, just so you know. What do you want me to do?’

‘Stay back!’ That was Loki’s voice and she rolled her eyes.

‘You aren’t even at The Tower!’ She reminded him he was at the compound with the boys and Thor.

‘No, but it does not take much to patch into the comms.’ Came his worried reply. ‘Wait for backup, love.’

‘Smoke is clearing.’ She replied as she continued towards what she could only assume was an impact site. ‘Going to help it along.’

‘Four minutes.’ Stark informed her.

She didn’t reply, instead she concentrated on her sorcery and called up a breeze strong enough to clear the air, just in time to see five ten foot humanoids get to their feet from a kneeling position. ‘Shit, we have five Frost Giants! Repeat, five Frost Giants!’

‘Love, get out of there!’ Loki yelled, feeling helpless as he was so far away.

‘If you’re not going to be helpful get off the comms!’ She retorted.

‘Damn, be careful!’ He said, realising she was going into this fight anyway. ‘Make sure you are in full armour, gloves and all, do not let them touch your skin as it will burn you!’

‘Everyone got that?’ Tony asked and there were several other voices added to the equation, and she recognised Steve, Bucky, Nat and Clint, at the very least.

‘What are they doing, Red?’

‘Looking around.’

‘And where’s Spider-Man?’

‘I can’t see him, he may have passed them, gone around, no, wait, there he is.’ She watched as he swung back through the group, firing webs at the knees of the giants. ‘He’s not bad.’

‘He’s twelve.’ Bucky’s voice came over the comms. ‘Kid has no right being in combat.’

‘He’s twelve?’ Sigyn asked in horror as she called power to her hands as the last of the civilians nearby ran past her.

‘He’s not twelve.’ Tony replied. ‘Three minutes. His voice has broken and everything.’

‘Doesn’t make it any better.’ Bucky replied.

The Frost Giant closest to Sigyn spotted her, not hard with her hands glowing golden amber, and pointed to her, the rest of them turning to face her, those effected ripping the webs away easily.

‘Okay, engaging with targets.’ She stated as she stepped forward.

‘What did I say?’ Loki yelped.

‘You said be careful, which is why I’m going to try talk to them first.’

‘Oh, this ought to go well.’ Steve’s voice came through her ear and she fought back a smile. She wasn’t convinced it was a great idea either but she couldn’t attack when their intentions were yet unclear.

‘My name is Sigyn of Asgard, state your business on Midgard.’ She said loudly, knowing her status as the Goddess of Fidelity would have more impact with them than that of an Avenger.

‘Sigyn of Asgard?’ The one on the left said, quirking his head to one side curiously as the others shared a look.

‘State your purpose here or leave peacefully.’ She ordered and she heard Tony chuckle.

‘She’s using her teacher voice again.’

‘We come in search.’

‘Of?’

Spider-Man chose that moment to swing by again, hitting the speaker with another web and his companions reacted, firing ice shards towards the young hero, one catching the web he was on, the other glancing off his torso and he tumbled to the ground down the street.

‘Spider-Man is down!’ Sigyn yelled, setting off at a run towards where she had seen the boy go down as the Frost Giants bore down towards her and as she reached the area they stood in she realised the tarmac was frozen. She could see the red and blue figure on the sidewalk ahead of her and as the nearest Frost Giant swung for her she threw herself into a slide, leading with her legs, and the momentum along with the ice had her out of reach and beside Spider-Man in seconds. ‘ETA, Stark?’ She asked as she slid to a halt and crawled towards the still figure.

‘Ten seconds, no, wait, here I am.’ He screeched past them in a roar of repulsers, blasting at the giants to keep them back from where Sigyn was rolling Spider-Man onto his back. ‘How long, Cap?’

‘Sixty seconds.’ The sound of the Quinjet engines could just be heard over the commotion on the street.

‘What’s happening?’ Loki’s worried voice came through the earpiece as Sigyn found a small, freezer burnt scorch mark over Spider-Man’s left ribs and he groaned as she probed the wound.

‘Lo, stay off the comms, keep the line clear.’ She instructed, knowing he would be worried sick but there was nothing she could do about it. ‘Call Darcy, she’s down the street in a cafe.’

At that moment Spider-Man jumped, conscious again and aware of a pretty, petite woman with cherry red hair and freckles knelt beside him. ‘No!’

‘You have a freezer burn.’ She said as she pressed her hand over the wound, palm flat. ‘I’m one of The Avengers, just let me heal you and you’ll be back on your web in no time.’ She smiled as warmth flowed from her hand and into his side. She could only heal minor wounds, thanks to Loki’s continued teachings, and thankfully this wasn’t too serious.

Spider-Man leant up and looked on as her hand glowed before fading again, and the pain he had felt disappeared. ‘That’s so cool!’

‘Opposite, really.’ She said as she helped him to his feet. Bucky was right, he sounded very young, and although he stood taller than her, most of her students back at Xavier’s had too. ‘These guys are basically cold incarnate, so try avoid getting…’ she didn’t get to finish as one of the Frost Giants swung towards them with an enormous ice sword and Spider-Man threw his arm around her waist and shot a web onto the building across the street, yanking her off her feet with a yelp and swinging her around the five Frost Giants and out of harms way, just as the Quinjet hovered low enough for the two super soldiers to jump down from an unfeasible height and Falcon to give Nat a lift to the ground. Cap threw his shield immediately and it caught one of the giants in the chest hard enough that it shattered into ice crystals and Bucky ploughed in against the nearest, engaging it in hand to hand. Stark had destroyed another and Sigyn reoriented herself as Spider-Man tried to swing her out of the way, firing a bolt of pure heat through another, reducing it to dust.

‘That was awesome! Can you do that again?’ Spider-Man asked as he changed his angle to head back towards the fight and Sigyn had a moment of stomach dropping terror as they free fell for a few feet before his next web attached to the building and she wrapped an arm around him before giving him an alarmed look.

‘Just don’t drop me!’ She replied firmly as her free hand fired another blast at the remaining Frost Giant, Bucky having stopped the other before Nat and Sam could get into the fight.

‘Is it like heat, or light?’ Spider-Man asked as he swung her towards where The Avengers were now gathering around what remained.

‘A bit of both.’ She said as he put her feet on the ground, making sure she was steady on the ice before letting her go.

‘It’s neat.’

‘Neat.’ Bucky murmured, shaking his head, still not believing how young this kid sounded.

‘Good to see you again, kid.’ Steve said as he came up on the other side to Sigyn.

‘You too.’

‘Go home.’ Stark said as he landed in front of them.

‘But…’

‘No buts, you got hit.’

‘I healed him.’ Sigyn raised her hand slightly. ‘Small freezer burn, all better.’

‘All the same, this wasn’t the kind of thing you need to deal with. Home. Now.’

‘I think he needs to hang around for debriefing.’ Sigyn fixed Stark with a glare and he flipped up the visor on his mask.

‘No, he has homework.’ Tony waved Spider-Man away and he took the hint, spinning a web and swinging his way out of there. ‘Are you being pissy because the in-laws dropped in unannounced?’

She frowned at him, heavily, waving her hand towards where Spider-Man had gone. ‘I’m not being pissy, I’m just wondering how old that boy is and why he’s in the middle of a fight with interplanar creatures with us?’

‘This is his patch.’ Tony shrugged. ‘Queens has Spider-Man, Hell’s Kitchen has The Devil, the rest of the world has us.’

Sigyn rubbed her forehead, knowing if her own boys were out doing this sort of thing while still in their teens she would have been worried sick. ‘Okay, fine.’ She began walking back towards the cafe but Tony called after her.

‘Where you heading, Scarlet?’

‘To see if my coffee is still warm.’ She called back, returning her armour to her jeans and t-shirt and leaving the team to clear up.

Chapter 3

#loki #loki fanfiction #Loki/Sigyn #loki x sigyn #bucky x amelia #bucky x ofc #Avengers #Avengers Redemption #avengersredemption #avengers fanfiction #mcu fanfiction

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