#sorry for all the complaining. I’ll be fine I’m not in danger I’m just very exhausted

[voiceshearingyouloud]

Had a weird morning today where I skipped my first class cause I have a midterm tonight and I’m really tired, but getting up the second time I was having a flashback to when I was like 13/14 which is really weird because I haven’t had that in a really long time and I Don’t like it because I was not killing it then and it took me ages to figure out that’s what was happening, during which time I beat myself up incessantly for not being able to get up or get dressed or eat. I just kind of hate life right now because I finally felt better last night after several days of extreme anxiety about my psychosis and now I have really bad depression. It’s like.. will I ever catch a break. Anyway, guess I need to study for the midterm now.

[alottiegoingon]

hc!baby steps

sam carpenter x fem!reader

summary: where sam takes care of her pregnant girlfriend

warnings: f!reader but no pronouns used, looots of fluff, established relationship, sam and reader live together, overprotective sam, ghostface!sam hcs at the end, mentions of murders and blood but nothing explicit, not proofread

୨୧ sam could not believe when you told her you were pregnant. for the first five seconds she was worrid about money and not being prepared to be a mom but she couldn't be more excited to start a family with you

୨୧ sam would be so careful to not overwhelm you with her protection and anxiety of keeping you safe all the time. she had learned her lesson with tara

୨୧ so, instead of asking you all the time if you were ok, she would stick to you like glue. it was weird to have an extra shadow following you everywhere but you didn't mind it

୨୧ you and sam decided that moving to a safer apartment in new york would be better for the baby. a better neighbourhood with nice schools around. you thought it would be easy, until sam started being a bit too cautious

୨୧ “this one is perfect. there's plenty of natural light," you look around the fourth apartment you visited in that afternoon, hoping that your girlfriend would approve this one. it was the perfect size too

୨୧ too small, too big, too dark, too smelly, noisy neighbours, too far from work. sam could be pretty demanding

୨୧ “it's great, sure,” judging by her voice, you could tell she had found something new to complain about, “but the windows are too big, it could be dangerous," she nods in disapproval, holding tight to your waist as if you were about to fall from the windows even if they were meters away

୨୧ “the baby is not going to be alone, sam. and we can protect the windows and add some nests or baby proof locks” you suggest but she didn’t seem convinced. she would fight the windows if she could!

୨୧ "right. but what if the baby learns how to open them? or what if the safety net is big enough for our baby to go through it?”

୨୧ "is our baby a genius or the ant-man?" the joke relaxes her just enough so you can see a shy smile growing on her lips. “i’m sorry, i just want us to be safe.”

୨୧ “i know, and i’m very grateful for you,” you hold sam’s face, stroking her cheeks, “but i promise that we are going to be safe. i’m okay, the baby is okay and you’re okay. it’s all good.”

୨୧ “i may be worrying too much again,” she admits, leaning into your touch, finally relaxing

୨୧ “just a little, yeah,” giggling, you draw closer to kiss her

୨୧ sam wouldn’t panic over every single thing that happened, at least not out loud, so it was very easy for her to get anxious about her own feelings

୨୧ trying to not make you anxious as well, she would just swallow all of her worries away and hope for the best but you’d always notice how the look in her eyes changed when she’d get nervous

୨୧ “what’s going on, baby?” you’d often comfort her with reassuring words, tender touches and lots of kisses, making sure that sam knew you were completely fine and always by her side

୨୧ sam would be the perfect partner when shopping for baby itens. she’d be sooo happy to pick some adorable baby clothes or whatever you needed and would even try to find matching clothes for you three

୨୧ no matter how many things you had bought, she’d carry all of it and would beg you to not carry any weight or move an extra muscle

୨୧ “give it to me, love, i’ll do it,” sam grabs the water bottle from your empty hands, fighting for her life to open it and carry all off the at least five bags in her arms while doing so

୨୧ “are you sure? cause you already have a lot of-“

୨୧ “it’s fine. i can do it, don’t worry,” she offers you a comforting smile that lasted about a second before going back to duel with the bottle, cursing it while trying to balance the bags

୨୧ you had the weirdest cravings ever and when going out for dinner once, you asked the waitress if they could bring you tuna and ice cream for dessert and it took a weirded out look coming from the woman for sam to intervene

୨୧ “yes, she asked for ice cream and tuna. do you have any?” and she’s all over her like 😡🙄

୨୧ at the supermarket, you were by the sweets section trying to choose a chocolate you liked for a movie night with sam and you gasped when you found your favorite one for sale

୨୧ you were ready to grab one or two when sam showed up with a different cart so full of it that a few ones were about to fall

୨୧ “oh, god,” you mumble, widen eyes incredulously staring at the mountain of candy

୨୧ “i know right? i’m so glad they have your favorite” 😁😁

୨୧ sam would get some good hours of sleep at first but as the baby’s arrival date was getting closer, she would spend almost the entire night just watching you sleep and making sure you were 100% safe and sound

୨୧ sometimes you’d wake up to sam whispering the most adorable shit ever to your belly and calling herself mommy. you were dying there, trying not to bawl your eyes out, but you pretended to be asleep every time, not wanting to interrupt the moment. eventually you’d fall asleep again to the sound of her voice and gentle touches

if ghostface was out there,

୨୧ sam would be extremely overprotective. no going out alone, no talking to any neighbors, no answering phones or getting too close to windows. doors would always be locked. if she could, she would lock you in a tower just like rapunzel

୨୧ sam had to leave for work but leaving you alone was the worst of her nightmares, so she found a way

୨୧ “don’t you think this is a little too much, sam?” you ask, frowning at your girlfriend as she introduces you to a intimidating strong guy wearing a suit. you could swear that he had a gun hidden in there but wouldn’t be surprised if he actually did, sam protectiveness was no joke

୨୧ that was supposed to be your new bodyguard, who would follow you around everywhere. including the shower you were about to take

୨୧ “don’t worry, gorgeous,” she grins, assuring you. “he’ll stay outside”

if sam was ghostface,

୨୧ she would kill everyone that had been rude to you. literally. even the slightest unusual look or barely rude tone would be a great reason for anyone to make it to her list of names

୨୧ if she was ghostface, that waitress that was surprised by your weird tuna-ice cream order would definitely have a surprise visitor waiting for her at home later

୨୧ while shopping for clothes for yourself, a miracle now that everything was about the baby, a woman refused to let you have the last gorgeous dress of your size, even calling you a bitch when all you did was ask her if you could have it

୨୧ sam was furious and you had to hold her back to avoid the other woman to get beaten up and the police to get called

୨୧ the very next morning, you woke up to the news of the same woman found dead in her apartment, her exact face showing up on your tv

୨୧ "what the…" you immediately get up from the couch as you heard the news, looking back at sam who was at the bathroom taking a shower or something. "sam, come here! i think that woman from yesterday got killed.”

୨୧ "really?” she yells from the bathroom, fingers firmly rubbing the blood out of a small cut she had on her cheek, that would later be covered with makeup.

୨୧ "that's awful,” she quickly walks out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her body, stopping right next to you. “i mean, i wouldn’t be surprised if her attitude was what got her killed" she casually comments, eyes attached to the television

୨୧ "sam!" you slap her shoulder and she groans in response. "the woman was killed, don't say that."

୨୧ "you’re right, im sorry," she smiles, reaching her free hand towards you and holding your chin to turn your face to hers so she could place a kiss on your forehead. "it’s a shame she can’t use that dress anymore.”

[black-is-beautiful18]

The Unexpected- The Proposal

K’uk’ulkan x Black!reader

A/N: This has been sitting in my docs for awhile now and I felt inspired so I finally finished it lol. I also used a translator for Yucatec Maya, so if it’s not all correct that’s why. Enjoy! ❤️

—————————————————

“I don’t get it. Why do I have to go?” Y/N demands even though it sounds more like a whine.

Shuri laughs and rolls her eyes playfully.

“We’ve been over this already. I have my own duties that conflict with my usual schedule. So today I need you to meet with him.” The princess explains as she busies herself with one of her latest projects.

“But I’m not a princess or a diplomat. You told me he has a temper. What if he gets upset that it’s me there and not you?”

Y/N leans against the table as Shuri looks up at her giving her an exasperated yet amused look. “You may not be a diplomat but you are sweet and that smile of yours is enough to put even the toughest of warriors at ease. Plus, you have something in common with the king. You’ll be able to relate in some way. Just take it from there.”

Groaning, Y/N puts her head in her hands.

“Fine. I’ll meet this fishman, but I don’t even know what to say to him.”

Shuri smiles. “You’ll do just fine. Use that brain of yours. Draw him in with your knowledge of Wakanda.”

Y/N rolls her eyes.

“As if he’d listen to me go on about our history when I’m sure he just wants to make sure you haven’t gone back on your word.”

Shrugging, Shuri looks down at her project which appears to have something to do with adjustments to her suit.” I’m not, but sending someone in my place is far better than no one showing up. Then we’ll have another problem on our hands.”

“Fine. I’ll go, but you owe me. This is not my thing.” Y/N huffs as she turns to leave.

“Thank you!”

“Yeah yeah!”

————————

Waves lap at the bank of the river as Y/N paces restlessly. She was nervous. So nervous that she’d nearly been late, which is very unlike her. If it weren’t for Aneka it’s safe to say that she’d still be tearing apart her closet right now. Wearing a sleeveless teal sundress, gold bangles, matching necklace, and a pair of sandals the Dora accompanying her assured her that she looked perfect. Her braids were up in a ponytail. The gems she’d carefully placed there this morning glimmering in the sunlight. Now all she had to do was not blow an alliance with a dangerous underwater kingdom ruled by a king who’s people worshiped him as a god…No pressure.

According to Shuri, now that the alliance was in place the king had…calmed down a bit. However, she warned Y/N to be on her guard since she would be a new face.

“Y/N please. If you pace anymore I think I will be sick.” A voice complains.

Offering a sheepish smile Y/N turns to Aneka and Nia who were with her today. Nia was new but good at her job, so that’s why she’d been given the task to come along. It’d be a good experience and Aneka trusted her.

“Sorry. I’m just nervous.”

“We’ve noticed.” Nia responds, giving her a soft smile in return.

“Shuri would not have asked you to do this if she thought you couldn’t do it. Take a deep breath and relax before you turn the sand to glass.”

Y/N glares at Aneka who shrugs. As she’s about to respond she sees movement out the corner of her eye. She’d pass it off as just a trick of the light or the fact that they are near water if it weren’t for the three presences she felt beneath the surface. They were steadily moving closer to the shore. Where did they come from? Usually she can sense things miles out or even leagues below the surface. How had she not noticed?

“We’ve got company.” Y/N mutters turning to the water.

She puts her shoulders back and quickly rehearses a greeting in her head only for her brain to short circuit as a man, flanked by two Talokanil, steps out of the water. Now don’t get Y/N wrong. She’d seen glimpses of the strange man when he and his people flooded Wakanda. Shuri had even told her of her time in the city of Talokan and described him in hopes that Y/N would be familiar with such descriptions. She was not. If she’d seen a man this handsome before…well she’d definitely remember him.

Water drips down his body and Y/N mentally yells at herself to stay focused. His friends really aren’t helping though. With their blue skin they’re both just as beautiful. However, their king is stunning. His winged feet only seemed to add to the strange allure he has about him. The way his jewelry shines in the sun and against his brown skin…Even with that intimidating spear in his hand Y/N is in awe.

Feeling a gentle nudge in her back Y/N nearly has a heart attack, but quickly covers it up with a smile as she steps forward.

“Hello. I am Y/N,” She dips in a graceful bow. “The princess sends her regards for she wasn’t able to make it today.”

The Talokanil behind the king exchange glances that don’t go unnoticed by Y/N. She feels butterflies dancing around in her stomach but works through them.

“I assure you everything is as it should be. Shuri simply had other duties to attend to.”

The king raises an eyebrow. “More important than our alliance?”

Y/N’s heart skips a beat at the sound of his voice. While his tone is inquisitive it also has a hint of playfulness to it. Well that’s good, right?

Y/N chuckles.

“To bear the role of the Black Panther means to always expect the unexpected. You never know when you will be called away. Surely you can understand that K’uk’ulkan.”

At the mention of his name, the king of Talokan seems to swell with what can only be described as pride. His eyes rake over Y/N taking her in before giving a charming smile that nearly makes her swoon.

“Well if that’s the case will you walk with me?”

Not expecting that response, Y/N’s jaw drops.” Um…”

She looks back at Aneka and Nia who give each other curious looks before Aneka nods encouraging her to accept. Turning back to him she notices that his companions seem to also be trying to figure just exactly what their king has in mind. However, seeing him embed his spear in the sand seals her resolve.

“I will.”

—————————

“So you are a friend of the princess?”

I chuckle glancing over at him.

“We’ve known each other since we were children. Though while I was learning the history of our great country and it’s spiritual aspects she took interest in the sciences and technology. Now look at her. The overseer of all our technology and an even more brilliant inventor.”

I pause and turn to him.

“Though I’m sure you know that already.”

He stops as well, a charming smile forming on his lips.” The princess has a brilliant mind, but I’m more interested in you.”

“Me? What could I possibly offer you?” With a furrowed brow and hands on my hips, I find myself to actually be interested in what he might say. The king obviously doesn’t know me, but he certainly acts as if he knows something.

The king glances back to where his own guards and the Dora stand further down the river. They’re a good distance away but still close enough should anything happen. Bast forbid that. Both groups stand rather awkwardly but they are determined to do their duty. He steps closer and a panic builds in my chest. With him this close to me I can smell the ocean. It’s always been one of my favorite smells but this makes me want to embrace him just so that I can take in more of it.

I notice the amusement in his eyes mixed with something else that I can’t quite place, and take a step back. He only follows me and I feel as if I’ve entered a game of cat and mouse. He is obviously the cat and I, unfortunately, am the mouse.

“K’uk’ulkan?”

I don’t mean to sound so uncertain or small but how can I possibly function with him so close?

His eyes roam over me for a moment before meeting my eyes once more. Leaning down, he takes on such an intimidating aura that I have to fight not to look away from him.

“I saw you that day.” His voice is low even though we aren’t that close to our companions. What he has to say is for my ears only.

“You move faster in water than any surface dweller I have seen. Stronger too.”

My eyes widen and he tilts his head to the side with a knowing smirk. At that point I do look away, setting my gaze on the water.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was ushered away just like most of my people.”

A click of his tongue and a low growl sends a chill down my spine.

“Mentiroso.”

My eyes shoot back to his and I stare at him defiantly. I don’t need my kimoyo beads to tell me that this man, this god, just called me a liar….and he’s right.

”I am not. You were seeing things.”

Even as I say it I see images in my mind of me diving into the river to rescue those who had been swept up by the waves or pulled into the water by Talokanil soldiers. K’uk’ulkan says nothing and I purse my lips keeping my facial expressions neutral. He begins to circle me slowly. Assessing me.

“…What do you want?”

“Nothing. I just find it…interesting. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone like you. Does your princess know?” He’s stopped behind me now but I refuse to face him.

“We grew up together and some things are hard to hide when you are so close.” What is he getting at?

K’uk’ulkan hums softly and walks back around me so that we are facing each other once more. His eyes are full of mirth and even mischief. Nervously I begin to fidget, twisting one of the rings on my right hand.

“I have a request.”

My eyes narrow. “I’m listening….”

Reaching down he gently takes my hand into his and lifts it to his lips. His hands have the roughness of a warriors but his lips are soft. Bast.

“Allow me to court you.”

It’s not a question.

“E-excuse me?” I mean to sound demanding. Make it sound as if he’s insane, but it all comes out in a surprised squeak.

My hand is still against his lips as he chuckles. It tickles a little.

“It is rather…traditional, but it would put many minds at ease if this alliance had more to hold it together. The elders have also been pestering me about giving my people their own queen mother and producing an heir.” He says it so casually that I’m left speechless.

I snatch my hand away from him and take a step back.

“I don’t even know you, and you are the reason Queen Mother is dead.” I hiss. The very mention of Ramonda sends a sharp pain through my chest. She treated me as if I were one of her own children. Losing her was devastating.

Stepping closer he takes my hand once more, holding it firmly so that I can’t pull away this time. “You and I both know that there are doubts on both sides. Would not such a moment ease their fears and allow us to move forward? To build trust?”

This man is crazy!

Preparing to pull away I freeze. He has a point. There are more Dora and soldiers patrolling the rivers. There have been whispers of evacuation plans in case another attack happens. I’ve sat in on the meetings of King M’Baku and the council. The elders are fearful that the Talokanil will go back on their promise of peace as soon as the first disagreement occurs. That this king who is worshiped as a god will want more….My heart speeds up as I go through the options. There aren’t many but I understand. I relax and look him in the eye.

“Give me time to think about this. Shuri…Shuri won’t be happy, and the elders will demand to know exactly why it is that you’ve chosen me. If I agree, you are asking me to expose myself. To also give myself to someone I don’t know.”

“I know this. That is why I will give you a week to consider and get things settled. Take this and call for me when the time comes. I will answer.” He pulls a conch shell from his waist and offers it to me. Gingerly, I take it looking at it curiously. When did he get this? Had I been so distracted that I didn’t notice it?

“I will call. I promise.”

A tender kiss is placed on my wrist this time and I almost swoon.

“I know you will…In Eek'e'.”

My star…

Before I can even react he kisses my hand and pulls away. He calls something to his guards but I’m too dazed to listen to the translation.

“Shall we?” The king of Talokan holds out his arm allowing me to take it. We walk back down along the bank of the river, the shell tucked safely in my free arm. I feel my face heating up as Aneka and Nia give me questioning looks as we approach. I am saved only when K’uk’ulkan turns to me, capturing my attention. “We will leave you here. Don’t forget what we have discussed.” Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I nod.” Of course. I made a promise and I intend to keep it.”

I’m met with a scoff but I see the amusement in the god-king’s eyes. He nods and promptly turns around stepping back into the river with the two Talokanil soldiers following close behind. I watch their heads soon disappear beneath the water and I sigh wishing for at least another kiss on my hand or wrist.

“What was that about?” Nia’s light voice fills the air startling me out of my thoughts. That’s when everything comes crashing down and realization hits. With a groan I facepalm getting strange looks from the two women accompanying me once again. I offer them only one answer.

“I am in so much trouble.”

————————————————

@stars8melanin @prettyvintageafternoon

[fairyniceyeah]

💎🦌Day 22: "What's the bad news?"

Poison/Bed-Ridden/Cauterization

@juneofdoom

Day 21: "Let's play a game"

Summary: It was only a stomach flu…

CW: emeto, seizure, hospital

Whumpee/Sickie: Joshua

Caretaker: S.Coups + Jeonghan

Day Zero

"I'm going to turn in for tonight”, Joshua whispered and lifted the blanket he had been sharing with Jeonghan off his legs. 

Jeonghan turned his attention away from the movie that was playing - it was voluntary movie night instigated by BooSeokSoon in Jeonghan’s dorm - towards his fellow 95liner. Joshua had seemed a bit off, a bit pale all day and now he winced as he moved to detangle himself from Seungkwan, who had fallen asleep on his lap. The youngest vocalist just turned in his sleep, mumbling something before becoming still again.

“You okay?”, Jeonghan whispered, not wanting to have the other’s attention on them. He doubted Joshua would appreciate that.

The other vocalist nodded. “I’m fine. Just a bit of a stomach ache. I think dinner might be having an issue with me.” His hand had moved to cradle his abdomen but other than that and his paleness he seemed good. Maybe an early night wouldn't hurt.

“Do you need anything? Meds, hot water bottle?”, Jeonghan questioned but received a shake of Joshua’s head as an answer.

“I’ll just lie down. If I need anything, Cheollie and Minghao-yah are at our dorm after all”, Joshua answered as he stood up and then said a bit louder, so that everybody awake could hear him: “I’m going to sleep. Good night.”

A chorus of “Good night”s followed him out.

Day One 

“Cheollie, it’s not even six am”, Jeonghan complained into his phone which’s ringing had disturbed his sleep, “why are you already up?”

“I haven’t turned in yet”, Seungcheol answered with a sigh. That had Jeonghan’s attention. “Shua is sick. He has been throwing up since he came back from yours and he’s running a decent temperature…”

He wanted to continue but Jeonghan, having rolled onto his stomach to actually be able to use his phone without the danger of falling back asleep, interrupted him: “He told me yesterday he had a stomach ache from dinner. Why didn’t he say he was nauseous?”

“He said it only really got bad when walking and in the elevator. Anyways, I already spoke to a manager - I’m staying home with Shua today. He’s asleep right now and hasn’t been throwing up every half hour since four but I don’t doubt he’ll feel awful when he wakes up. He’s also still at 38.3°C”, Seungcheol explained, “since I haven’t slept and was with him, the manager said that it’s best that I stay to catch up on some sleep and to stop the risk of contagion. So, congratulations, you’re in charge today.”

In the evening Jeonghan had convinced the manager that it didn’t matter if he went to see Joshua - he’d been cuddling with the sick member the whole past evening, if he was to get sick he’d get sick. 

“Hey”, he whispered as he entered his best friend’s bedroom. Joshua was sitting up with a pillow propping him up against the headboard. He was looking ashen-gray and the very definition of sick. There was a bucket sitting on the floor by his head, clean but still wet from the water used to clean it out. Joshua was reading a book though it seemed like he wasn’t taking much in.

“Hi, Han-ah”, Joshua greeted, looking up. He placed the book away without putting a bookmark - so he really hadn’t been paying attention to it. “What are you doing here? You didn’t sneak in, did you? It’s bad enough that I might have infected Cheollie already.”

“I came to see how you were, dumbass. I was worried and besides, we were cuddling. If I am destined to get sick, I already have been cursed”, Jeonghan answered and sat on the edge of Joshua’s bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Awful”, Joshua mumbled with a sigh, “my stomach feels like it’s been turned into lava. The cramps are terrible, the vomiting is worse. And I’m so cold from the fever.”

As if to make his point, he shivered.

“I’m sorry, baby”, Jeonghan said and brushed a sweat-soaked curl away from where it was stuck to Joshua’s equally sweaty forehead, “is there anything I can do to help?”

“Not really. Before he went to nap, Cheollie already gave me some fever reducers, pain meds and the anti-emetic”, Joshua mumbled before his voice turned bitter, “then I threw it all up and Wonwoo had to help me.”

“You know none of us mind”, Jeonghan comforted, “how long ago was that?”

“I don’t know. Forty-five minutes? Something like that”, Joshua replied, “no, don’t say it.”

Jeonghan smiled at him. “Why don’t we try some plain rice? Mingyu made it specifically for you and gave it his best.”

Joshua snorted, then seemed to regret that as the motion pulled at his aching stomach. “We’re an Asian household. I think we’d die if we didn’t have rice available at all times.”

“Fair enough. I’m actually scared for Jihoon-ah, just thinking about it”, Jeonghan joked. Then he turned serious: “You should really try eating. You need some strength.”

Joshua acquiesced. 

Five minutes after he’d had some rice, Joshua had to bury his face in the bucket again, choking up the few bites he had managed to swallow. As he managed to stop gagging and with trails of spit dangling from his lips, he rasped: “I told you.”

Seungcheol sent Jeonghan home to his dorm half an hour later, claiming Jeonghan needed his sleep - which was rich coming from the insomniac general leader but Jeonghan felt guilty enough about making Joshua eat that he just went quietly. 

Day Two

Jeonghan woke up to a text message.

Seungcheol (04:28): I’m staying home with Shua-yah again.

They all were worried, every single member not really focused on work that day. Joshua hadn’t been able to keep anything down for over twenty-four hours and his fever was steadily burning. Not even the hot water bottle seemed to be able to soothe the pain and sore muscles. He was basically bed-ridden by then, his strength not enough to drag himself to the bathroom even if he wanted to. Jeonghan received a picture from a manager during vocal practice - Seungcheol and Joshua curled up on the leader’s big bed together, both asleep and Joshua so tiny in the eldest’s arms. Nobody needed to know that Jeonghan put it in his folder of his favorite Seventeen pictures.

Jeonghan didn’t go to see them that day.

Day Three

They all had a day off. Jeonghan had forced himself into the other apartment. Seungcheol needed sleep. Joshua needed to get better. And Jeonghan was worried. 

“Go sleep, Cheollie”, Jeonghan whispered, so as not to wake the sleeping Joshua.

“But …”, Seungcheol protested, nervously biting his lip, eyebrows furrowed. “He’s so sick.”

“I know. But you need rest”, Jeonghan said, opening his arms for the exhausted leader. Immediately Seungcheol had thrown himself into the embrace, obviously overly tired and exhausted, overwhelmed by caring for a member so sick. If Joshua wasn’t better soon, they’d have to take him to the hospital. Already the company doctor had given him some IV fluids and meds but it seemed it had only helped make Joshua sleep. “I’ll take good care of him for you.”

Seungcheol nodded, rubbing his eyes and yawning. “Wake me if you need help. Anything.”

Jeonghan laughed softly and shoved him out of the door. “Rest, ddaddu.”

Then he was alone with Joshua. He made himself comfortable in the chair beside the bed, opening the book Joshua hadn't touched for days.

“Hey, Shua, baby, wake up for me”, Jeonghan whispered, stroking sweat-soaked hair plastered to Joshua’s forehead back. “You need to eat lunch.”

It took a good while for Jeonghan to get Joshua awake and even then his eyes kept falling shut. It was obvious just how exhausted he was, how ill he was. “Han?”, he rasped, voice nearly gone from repeated vomiting, “I’m so tired. I just want to sleep.”

“I’m sorry, baby, I know”, Jeonghan mumbled. He hated himself for disturbing Joshua’s rest like that but he hadn’t eaten in so long and he was growing weaker. If he didn’t manage to eat until that evening they had agreed to bring him to the hospital. “But you need nutrients and fluids. And we should take your temperature again.”

“I’ll just throw up again”, Joshua protested weakly, “I don’t want to eat.”

“If you don’t eat I’ll take you to the hospital now”, Jeonghan said softly. It wasn’t a threat. It was worry. 

“No. No hospital. Please.”

As Joshua protested, never having been a fan of hospitals and likely feeling too wretched for the trip, Jeonghan nearly wished Joshua had agreed. Except for Wonwoo’s gastroenteritis, he couldn’t remember seeing a member so sick before. Maybe they shouldn’t wait till evening for a hospital visit but getting Joshua to agree looked like an impossible task. Forcing him would be no good either. So Jeonghan sighed and pulled out the thermometer. 

Joshua kept his eyes closed, fingers entangled with Jeonghan’s as they waited for the results. “39.5°C”, Jeonghan read with worry, “Shua, it hasn’t gone down at all today. If anything, it’s up.”

“Just give me some painkillers for my stomach if I have to eat - they’ll help with the fever too”, Joshua muttered. Jeonghan nodded, running his fingers through his hair for a moment. 

“Give me a moment, I’ll get the meds and food.”

Joshua didn’t respond.

“How is he?”, Wonwoo asked from where he was perched on a kitchen chair, watching Mingyu cook. 

“Fever is still high. He doesn’t want to but I told him he needs to eat. I have half a mind to just pack him into a car and drive him to a hospital”, Jeonghan sighed and slumped down on the chair beside him. Wonwoo sighed.

“Do you think it could be what I had?”, he asked worriedly. 

Mingyu turned around from the stove at that moment. “Why aren���t you taking him to the hospital?”

“I don’t know”, Jeonghan said to both questions. “He really doesn’t want to go.”

“He also has a fever going through the roof - he isn’t thinking clearly”, Wonwoo pointed out, “but it’s your choice.”

“I just don’t want to force him. You know he hates hospitals. He doesn’t like needles. I want him to be comfortable”, Jeonghan said with doubt in his heart, “can you make him some soup, Mingyu-yah?”

“One step ahead of you, hyung”, Mingyu said, pointing to the stove, “it’s already done.”

“Oh, thanks.” Maybe Jeonghan shouldn’t have been surprised. They all were so close with each other and caring for each other in their own ways had easily become second nature to them.

When Jeonghan entered the bedroom again, carrying a steaming bowl of soup, Joshua was fast asleep again. There was a bit of bile in the bucket, Jeonghan saw, grimacing. Joshua had nothing left in himself to throw up.

Waking Joshua was hard. No matter what Jeonghan tried - whispering his name, gently shaking his shoulder, calling his name loudly, using the cool cloth to try to shock him into wakefulness - it didn’t work.

Jeonghan felt himself start to tremble when he realized that, no, Joshua wasn’t asleep. This was not sleep at all, it was unconsciousness. Fear was gripping Jeonghan’s heart as he stumbled a step back. Was his fever that high? As he lifted his hand to touch Joshua’s forehead he found it burning.

“Cheollie”, he yelled, panicked. He was so out of his depth. “Seungcheol! I need help!”

The door behind him crashed open, admitting Mingyu and Wonwoo first - having been the closest - followed by a half-asleep leader who suddenly looked wide-awake the moment he laid his eyes on Joshua and the trembling Jeonghan.

“What happened?”, he asked, pushing past the other two rappers.

“I went to get him some food but when I came back, he … Shua … he wouldn’t wake …”, Jeonghan started, trying to suppress his tears. He whirled around as Joshua made a sound, somewhere between a groan and a grunt. 

Jeonghan heard somebody start to sob when he took in the scene. Joshua’s body was tense on the bed, back arched as his eyes were rolling behind closed lids. Everyone of his appendages was trembling and then…

Then Joshua began to seize.

Jeonghan was helpless to watch, as Seungcheol ordered Mingyu to call an ambulance and told Wonwoo to time … it. His eyes were fixed on Joshua, who was groaning, making these awful sounds that didn’t even sound quite human as his body was thrown from side to side. Seungcheol ran to pull the blanket off Joshua, receiving a kick in the stomach by an uncoordinated limp, but he didn’t even seem fazed.

Two hours later the four of them, Seungcheol, Wonwoo, Mingyu and Jeonghan, were sitting in a waiting room in a random hospital. They hadn’t seen Joshua since the ambulance had sped off with him shortly after they had arrived. The paramedics had been mumbling about low blood pressure but a too high pulse, a fever burning over 40°C and bad dehydration. Joshua had looked so small, hooked up to so many machines.

Now, all they could do was wait. 

Seungcheol was pacing. Wonwoo was just staring at the opposite wall. Mingyu was trying to distract himself with his phone. Jeonghan hadn’t yet stopped crying.

They had let the other know, of course, leaving Jun, Hoshi and Woozi in charge. It would normally be a disaster waiting to happen but as far as Jeonghan knew they were all just gathered in the 8th floor dorm waiting for news and taking comfort in each other's presence.

Jeonghan startled badly as the door opened and a doctor walked in. Hopeful eyes turned up to her and she gave them a tight nod in greeting. 

“Joshua-ssi is asleep at the moment. Our fears of a burst appendix or other infected organs have been proven wrong and his fever has gone down a bit. He didn’t have another seizure”, she said. Mingyu breathed out in relief, leaning his head on Wonwoo’s shoulder, who pulled him close. Seungcheol had stopped pacing, instead listening intensely. 

“What’s the bad news?”, Jeonghan asked quietly. Why would the doctor start with telling them what it wasn’t? Why wasn’t she saying what was wrong with Joshua?

The doctor sighed. “It appears as if Joshua-ssi is suffering from Escherichia coli or in short E.Coli.”

Seungcheol frowned. “Food poisoning? Food poisoning can do that?”

“Basically, yes”, the doctor said, “E.Coli is food poisoning. But in Joshua-ssi’s case it has turned into bacteremia. It’s an infection or rather poisoning of the bloodstream caused by bacteria entering the blood due to a scrape or cut. We think that due to the excess vomiting Joshua-ssi’s esophagus was torn a bit, causing the bacteria he was throwing up to enter his blood. Due to this, he developed sepsis.”

“Oh, God”, Seungcheol mumbled and collapsed into the chair next to Jeonghan. The younger gently took his hand, needing the support as much as the leader did.

“How are you treating him?”, Wonwoo asked, as always able to keep a clear head.

“We put him into an artificial coma so his body can rest. He is receiving oxygen and antibiotics to treat the infection”, the doctor explained.

“Is … is he going to be okay?”, Jeonghan whispered, not daring to look up from where he was fiddling with Seungcheol’s team ring. 

“If the medication helps as much as we hope, yes. But we need to wait and see how it progresses before we promise anything”, she answered.

“Can we see him?”, Seuncgheol said.

“Not yet. We’re keeping him in isolation for now, so he can’t get into contact with any other germs. If he gets better in the next two days, you’ll be able to see him.”

Day One of Joshua being able to return to their schedules was likely one of the best the group had ever experienced. 

Two weeks after the initial hospitalization, including three days in coma, Joshua was allowed to return home to the dorm. He was still weak, pale and mostly sleeping the days away. Three days later the fever returned and he was bedridden in the hospital again. It was touch and go for a while.

But now, nearly two months later, Joshua was with them at the photo shoot scheduled for that day. All members, even those who were already finished with theirs and allowed to leave, stuck around to watch him together.

Joshua was really glowing under the flood lights.

Jeonghan couldn’t help but smile as Seungcheol pressed his hand.

“He’s okay, Han-ah. He’s okay.”

Day 23: "You're doing great"

Masterlist link: Fairy's Full Masterlist Fairy's June of Doom 2024

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not responding to someone in rp?

📝 <- to recognize

Also disclaimer this is about to be a very low stakes problem about a very small rp server between friends. If you don’t care then don’t read it’s fine 😂 I just want opinions over something I have some anxiety about. Everyone is in the same age range of about 24-26

Ok, so: basically what it says on the tin, I’m in a small rp server that has nothing to do with fandoms it’s just OCs, mostly dnd stuff. It’s just between me and a couple friends, there has been no serious drama whatsoever and it’s very nice!

We recently added a new member (I’ll call him Blue) who doesn’t have a lot of characters yet, but the handful he does have are… well. Practically all the same character. They have different backstories but all the same personality, which is to say they have none.

Every character of his is entirely neutral all the time, but not as some sort of comedy bit, just as… they are all very Prim And Proper, very intelligent, very unwilling to react to anything at all. No strong emotions about anything even when faced with something extreme like a villain or even a non-evil crazy event. We like to have fun and throw wild dangerous or just funny circumstances at our characters, yet his characters essentially always go 😐 “Well. That happened. Anyways.” And brush it all off… unless Blue thinks he can be The Savior of the day. But if he can’t just shut down the whole event, then his characters go back to being totally checked out and uncaring about any of it. He explains this saying that they’re all used to this kind of thing (though their backstories do say otherwise) and one of them is a god so he especially doesn’t need to react to things.

None of this is really the end of the world, it just makes interacting with his characters very difficult for me and a few others. For instance if I throw a villain in for the day, it’s… kinda hard to actually pose a threat when you have a handful of characters just standing there reacting like they’re on The Office. Similarly it’s harder to form emotional connections between characters if one oc pours their heart out and the other says “Well I’m sorry for your experiences” and brings nothing else to the table. There have been a couple instances as well where my friends and I worry that we’ve upset Blue with how our characters react, but like, if one of ours is a naturally rude and antagonistic person, they are going to be rude and antagonistic. Nobody else has a problem with this bc we all do it for variety and sometimes it’s fun to have a little oc drama! But Blue will have his characters react in a slightly guilt trippy way and then just go silent, sometimes explaining or even complaining out of character that their oc was Just Joking or similar. He hasn’t expressed being upset to us and nobody has had an argument about any of this, but the vibes end up feeling… off.

All of this just makes it hard to interact with Blue’s characters. They’re all The Same, they don’t really involve themselves with the rp in a way that garners reaction, and personally I overthink and worry about possibly upsetting him since we’ve all seen how weird things feel after 1 Antagonist Character says 1 Antagonistic Thing. So if I respond to his characters, I tend to respond more blandly than I do with others. Similarly, he has taken to proposing hypothetical ideas about rp and character interaction and then when I don’t immediately have a good response, he tags me and asks how my characters would react to his. I try my best to respond, really, but because there’s nothing there to bounce off of… it’s hard to come up with a good response! And if the response isn’t good enough Blue seems disappointed with it and just drops the whole idea altogether. This is mainly what fuels my anxiety about it, thinking that I’m not doing good enough while also not being given anything good to work with either.

To be clear I do not think he is being an asshole, At least not on purpose. I think there’s a lot of factors that could explain this and it’s honestly not a crime to just not be “good” at rp. What I’m wanting opinions on is should I be trying harder?? I worry that my effort has been affected by a growing distaste for his characters. He’s a lovely person, I have no beef with him lol, but I think it’s gotten clear that I respond more enthusiastically to the others. It’s not intentional, but it’s what happens bc I feel bad ignoring him altogether especially when he tags me specifically for a reaction. I also don’t know if the classic “omfg just communicate” response is very applicable because honestly I think I WOULD be the asshole for messaging him and saying “hey it’s not that I don’t like you it’s just that your characters are not fun to interact with, fix that!” Even in nicer terms than that haha cause in general offering unsolicited constructive criticism even with the kindest intentions is seen as a bad move.

So… AITA for not responding to Blue as much or as enthusiastically as I do for my other friends? Should I be faking it til I make it or does it not need to be an issue until it becomes one?

TLDR: new member of a small rp server joined and all his characters seem to have no personality and are all the same Perfect Intellectual type. There hasn’t been any serious problem but it is hard to interact with them and I am tending to lean toward bland responses bc I don’t feel like I have anything to work with here. Should I be trying harder or is it not a problem until it’s brought up?

What are these acronyms?

[autumntouched]

Talk to Me | Ch. 10

Fic Summary: Phoenix isn’t sure she made the right call in leaving Maverick and Rooster behind on the mission. Rooster, Bob, and Hangman try to cheer her up, in their own, very different ways.

Pairings: Past Natasha “Phoenix” Trace x Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, Natasha “Phoenix” Trace x Jake “Hangman” Seresin

A/N: This night might be taking an unexpected (expected?) turn...

“You were in on it the whole time, weren’t you?” someone snarls.

Natasha’s eyes fly open, and she squints up to see the enraged LTJG Shapiro standing over her. She scrambles to her feet so her face is out of the direct trajectory of his clenched fists. He closes in. He’s almost as tall as Payback, and she has to crane her neck to keep a close watch on his movements. “Trying to impress your friends by embarrassing me in front of mine,” he accuses viciously, spit gathering in the corners of his mouth.

Stepping to the side so she doesn’t fall over the chair if she has to run, Natasha puts up her hands and eyes him levelly. “No, I wasn’t.”

“Then how come you led me on?”

“I didn’t,” she says coolly. “I didn’t know what they’d told you before you came over. You’re the one who didn’t bother to ask who I was, Lieutenant JG.” Natasha hopes reminding him of their ranks will get him to back down, but instead he sneers.

“You’re not exactly dressed like an officer. Lieutenant.”

Anger surges in Natasha, and she bites back a retort about him needing a uniform to attract anyone. Instead, she counts off on her fingers. “Right now, I have you on disrespecting a lady  and  the Navy per Penny’s rules. Should I add chucking your phone on the bar for the trifecta? It’s a lively crowd tonight, and I’m sure they’d appreciate the round. Or you can take this as a valuable lesson on how not to talk to a stranger in a Navy establishment and not risk this little incident getting back to your commanding officer.”

He pauses to consider her threat. His fingers flex out of their fists and, for the first time that night, he looks slightly less sure of himself.

“That’s assuming the bystanders who happened to overhear the conversation don’t decide to mention it themselves,” Hangman drawls. Natasha nearly jumps to find him at her shoulder. His tone is amicable yet dangerous. “Especially,” he adds with a humorless grin, “in between running errands for Vice Admiral Simpson.”

The name drop, or maybe Hangman’s presence, decides Shapiro. He backs off with a muttered complaint that The Hard Deck isn’t all it was cracked up to be.

Natasha blocks his path to the patio. “Am I losing my hearing, Lieutenant JG Shapiro? I didn’t catch an apology.”

Hangman moves in beside her. Shapiro’s nostril’s flare as he glares between them. “Sorry to offend you, ma’am,” he grits out.

“Good enough for you?” Hangman checks.

“Yeah,” she agrees. “He’s killing my buzz.” They let the LTJG shoulder his way between them.

Natasha sighs once he’s disappeared inside. She climbs back into the adirondack chair while Hangman watches Shapiro over his shoulder. The encounter leaves her feeling more sober than she’d like.

“You handled that well. By the way, brought you some water,” Hangman says.

Fuck. He’s still being nice and sufferable.

“I’m not that drunk,” she complains. “Especially after that.” She glances up at him, now silhouetted by the patio’s hanging lights. He’s holding a glass of water in one hand and his drink in the other. The soft glow outlines his perfectly chiseled jawline and sloped shoulders. She’s admiring the way his shirt collar frames his neck, unbuttoned just enough to reveal the fine layer of his chest hair, before she realizes. “You’re such a dickhead,” she says instead of thanks.

Hangman laughs softly as he comes around to take the chair beside hers. He holds the water out to her. “And I promise I’ll still be a dickhead if you take this.”

“I want  that  first,” she says, pointing to his old fashioned. For a moment, he looks like he’s going to protest. Then he hands it over. Natasha takes it and ignores the soft burn as she drains the rest.

“Hey!” he protests. “I meant a sip.”

She finishes his drink with a grin and a smack of her lips. “Thanks.”

He trades her the empty glass for the water. Hangman carefully places it on the chair arm farthest away from her. “Somehow you still manage to be cute when you’re being a dick,” he tells her.

"Not sure I can say the same for you." She accepts the glass and settles back into the chair, enjoying the old fashioned’s enveloping coziness and the odd sweetness of his backhanded flirting. He watches her expectantly. “Really, I’m not that drunk,” Natasha protests again, but she takes a sip.

Casually he leans forward and rests his forearms on his thighs. “Maybe I care that you’re hydrated so that face of yours stays fresh and pretty.”

The direct compliment surprises her. She lifts an eyebrow. “Does being nice hurt?”

“I like a change of pace every now and then. Does letting your hair down hurt?” he shoots back smugly.

Natasha smirks and tosses her blown out tresses. “I let my hair down. Just not around you, Bagman.”

Hangman’s mouth does something funny at that. He kicks the sand. “There are a lot of things you don’t do around me.”

There’s no innuendo but a strained note of frustration in his voice. Natasha swallows down a quip and decides to take him seriously. “Like what?” Her heart seems to be beating somewhere in her stomach.

“Well we’re not exactly friends, are we?” Hangman peers over at her out of the corner of his eye, looking for her reaction the same way he does when he wants to see if one of his jokes got a rise out of her.

The glass slips in her hands, rattling the ice. Carefully, she balances it on her thigh. His face is closed, unreadable, so she can’t tell where he’s going with this. “If you define a ‘friend’ as someone like Coyote who strokes your ego and lets you get away with your bullshit, then no.” She shifts in the chair to face him. “But, except for when you’re being a showoff or an idiot, we’re both better pilots when we fly with each other. You saved my best friend’s life. And you, you took the fall for me with Cyclone. So I don’t know what you want to call that.”

A breeze buffets her hair, tickling her face with the bangs she’s grown out. She tucks them back behind her ear while she watches Hangman think through her answer. The shadows bring out the handsome planes of his face.

“I told you,” he says finally, “the thing with Cyclone is no big deal.”

“Rooster told me he was going to demote you–.”

Hangman interrupts her with a snort. “So sweet of you and Rooster to finally get out of one another’s asses long enough to give a fuck about me. But that was an empty threat. Maverick had just stolen a multi-million dollar plane out from under his nose. Cyclone had to save face somewhere. And besides, the order was coming. I was…anticipating its arrival.”

That…makes sense. Natasha takes another sip of water to stave off the what ifs that come flooding back with this knowledge. She could have deviated from her go round and gone back for Rooster and Maverick. But with what defenses, she reminds herself. They’d blown through their payload and flares taking out the plant and evading the SAMs.

Hangman cocks his head, as if the thought has suddenly struck him. “Don’t tell me you’ve been feeling bad about that?”

A week ago she would have lied and denied it, not wanting him to know she ever gave him a second thought. But in the soft glow of her drinks, she’s feeling more generous. And something he said is nagging at her. Natasha chews her lip while she tries to put her finger on it.

He interprets her silence as a yes. “I didn’t know you cared like that, Phoenix,” Hangman jokes, sitting back and crossing his right ankle over his left knee.

“Of course I care. About all of you,” she adds hastily. “How could I not after the last few weeks?”

Natasha’s surprised by the way her throat aches and her eyes burn at mentioning what they’ve been through to Hangman, of all people. She dabs at the corner of her eye and flicks away a stray tear before he can notice it.

He’s unusually quiet and solemn while he stares out over the place where not long ago Maverick had lined them up for dogfight football. The beach is empty now, the sand churned from another group’s game. “None of us would have made it home without you, Trace. You know that, right?”

It’s the most earnest thing she can ever remember him saying. Aside from talking about his absurd love for Texas. She double checks her hearing. “Huh?”

Hangman looks over at her, and it’s almost shy. “You know, Cyclone and Warlock had bets on who Maverick would pick for the mission. Out of the twelve of us, you were the only one on both of their lists. Well, and Bob, obviously.” Her mouth gapes at their commanding officers’ ability to turn a life and death situation into a game of fantasy squadron. “It’s true,” he insists. “Everyone else was so busy trying to make everyone else look bad. Except you. You were the only one who remembered we all needed to be the best to win, and you made all of us better. And you’re the only one who kept their head from start to finish.”

“Not really,” she mumbles, embarrassed by how quickly he’s gone from making jokes at her expense to praising her. Natasha breathes in deeply through her nose and peers out at the darkness as if it’s hiding the part of her that seems to have gone missing, the part of her that is supposed to be more annoyed by Hangman than comforted.

“Since when did you become modest?” he teases, but it’s gentler, more sincere.

Rivulets of water run down her leg. Natasha moves the glass to the arm of the chair, contemplating how honest she wants to be with him. She doesn’t exactly owe him the truth, and she’d rather limit his future ammunition.

Lifting her shoulder in a shrug, she turns the question back on him. “Why did you decide to stay here instead of going home for leave?”

“I’m on punishment, remember?” He doesn’t sound at all put out by his sentence, more like he might be enjoying some part of it. Or all of it. “Cyclone’s not creative enough to make me suffer out of his sight. Besides, maybe I realized I kind of like being around you nerds and little goody two-shoes. Now, it’s your turn to answer  my question. Why the sudden modesty?”

“I’m not being modest,” Natasha sputters. With Hangman, it’s easy to forget that beneath the self-centered persona he’s keenly observant and attuned to people. And now she regrets her slip because he’s also persistent and won’t let it go.

“What part of what I said wasn’t true?” he challenges.  

All of it. They all would have made it home without her. Rooster and Maverick made it home thanks to Hangman, not her. And she isn’t keeping her head because her dreams keep replaying every scenario gone wrong as if the reality that they are all alive and safe is the dream.

She stares him down. “I’m not stupid enough to give you anything to hold over my head.”

Every one of his well-sculpted muscles goes taut. In the shadowed light from the patio, his expression is intense, the lines around his mouth and between his brows sharpened. Whatever he wants to say churns on the tip of his tongue. Natasha crosses her arms and lowers her chin, daring him to push her.

He goes for it anyway. “So you’re not okay.”

“That’s not what I said!” she hisses.

“It’s what you’re not saying though!”

“Because it’s none of your business!”

Natasha pushes herself up out of the chair, accidentally knocking over the water he brought her. Reflexively, he catches the glass before it hits the ground. She’s impressed and angry at him all at once. And as she stands over him, the thing she was trying to put her finger on suddenly clicks into place. Hangman is jealous of Rooster. Because of her. What was it he had said so eloquently? How sweet of her and Rooster to finally get out of one another’s asses to give a fuck about him.

And she’s been playing right along. The drinks on him, the dance, this conversation. Disgusted with herself, Natasha snatches up her espadrilles and storms off down the beach. Going inside would mean having to stop to put on her shoes, long enough for him to catch up to her.

“Where are you going?” he calls.

“Fuck you,” she says over her shoulder.

“Phoenix!”

She takes off running, the sand grainy between her toes, giving way under every footfall. Tomorrow, she may pay for all the alcohol she's thrown back but for now it gives her a rush. In the stupid dress she probably won't be able to outrun Hangman, but hopefully he takes the hint and lets her go. Running feels so good, so light.

He doesn’t take the hint. She’s well beyond the light perimeter of The Hard Deck when strong arms lift her off her feet. Once more that night, Hangman holds her against his chest. His breathing is labored and hot against her neck from the chase. Stirred by his exertion, the woodsy smell of his cologne mingles with his sweat in a heady combination.

“Let me go,” she growls, kicking at him and fighting his grip around her waist.

“Just hang on a second,” he grunts.

“Leave me alone!”

“Fine!”

And he lets go of her mid-kick so she falls on her butt. The landing knocks the wind out of her. He drops down beside her while she catches her breath enough to yell at him.

“Goddamn it,” he pants, “I’m not going to hold a fucking bird strike over your head, Natasha.”

A wave breaks against the beach, crashing into the silence in the wake of her name.

Hangman sits with his knees drawn up, elbows propped on them to rest his forehead against his forearms.

“And I’m not going to let you use me to make Rooster jealous.”

His head pops up and his mouth falls open. “What?”

Natasha grits her teeth against the twinge of the cramp forming in her side. “All of this is just to make him jealous, isn’t it?”

After a moment, Hangman laughs bitterly. “So you two  are hooking up. Good to finally know.” He screws up his face and looks away but not before she thinks she sees genuine hurt there. It’s too dark to be sure.

“Who said that?”

“You, Phoenix! You just accused me of using you to make Rooster jealous.”

“Because you brought up us being up one another’s asses!” she hurls back.

He makes a noise of exasperation in his throat. “For the way you coddle him all the time! He lashes out, and you let him get away with being a little shit just because his parents are dead. Like he’s the only one who’s ever suffered or lost people he loves!” Hangman slows and draws in a long breath through his nose. When he calms down some, he continues, “Look, that’s not what I was trying to say. I overheard Rooster and Bob worrying about you.”

“I’m fine,” she snaps.

“I don’t think you are. Because none of us is fucking fine.” She whips her head around to look at him. The stubborn expression on his face melts into something more tender. “It’s okay to not be fine. We’ve been through hell.”

“You don’t act like it,” she accuses.

“Yeah, well, you can’t always see the cracks in something that’s already broken, can you?” Natasha wonders at anything so profound being able to pass between Hangman’s teeth let alone even cross his mind. She shivers as the adrenaline from her run and her alcohol blanket begin to wear off. Hangman lifts his arm. “Come here.”

She hesitates, calculating how much she will regret giving in. He waits with it held out to her. Finally, Natasha crawls into his side. The curve of his torso is solid and warm when his arm wraps around her to pull her even closer. He leans forward to block the cooler air coming off the water, cradling her in the halo of his body heat. She wiggles the sand out from between her toes.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so hard headed sometimes,” he gripes into her hair. She is about to say something when she feels his chest expand with a deep inhale. “Why do you smell so delicious?” he mutters. It comes out in a breath so low, she doesn’t know if she was supposed to hear.

Deciding to avoid anything having to do with how close they’re now sitting to one another, Natasha argues, “I wouldn’t be here if I weren’t so hard headed.”

“I didn’t say it was a  bad thing.” He pauses, as if waiting to see whether she is going to put up any other fights. She lets it go, this time. “Maybe everyone else is acting like they’re okay because  you’re  acting like you’re okay.”

“You sound like my mom,” Natasha tells him.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Don’t.” But she can’t hold back her smile. He squeezes her shoulder, letting her know he can hear it in her voice. She gives him a shove. Hangman retaliates by tickling her, making her squeal and try to wrench away. But somehow, he keeps her in the circle of his arm.

When they settle back down again, she asks, “What did you mean by not seeing cracks in something that’s already broken?” As far as she can tell, everything in Hangman’s life had always gone his way up until Maverick left him behind on the carrier.

“All I’m saying is just because Rooster goes around wearing his tragedies on his sleeve doesn’t mean that everyone else is going to show you theirs. It’s not like you’re going around telling all of us you’re having nightmares.”

How much had he overheard! She's going to have to have words with Rooster and Bob about discretion. As if sensing her agitation, he strokes her arm. “Can I say one last thing without you running away or punching me?”

Natasha wants to know what he has to say but doesn’t mind keeping him in check. “Okay,” she agrees after pretending to give it some thought.

“No one’s handling this worse or better than anyone else, all right? I think we all stayed here because we want to be with the only other people in the world who know what we’ve been through. We’re all coping the best way we know how. And you, you thought you let your best friend die. Twice.” His voice is so soft, so infinitely gentle in a way she never would have imagined him capable of. He strokes her hair, his fingers repeating a soothing strum on her shoulder as he walks her through all the things she’s endured. Natasha feels like someone is squeezing the air out of her lungs. “You barely walked away from a plane crash after watching Coyote almost burn in from G-LOC. I’d be more worried if you  were  handling all that okay. But we all  know  you’re not a psychopath because Lord knows I’ve given you enough reasons to want to kill me, and you haven’t yet.”

She takes several deep breaths, letting the cool night air fill her nose and ease the tightness in her chest. Natasha hadn’t realized it, but Hangman is right. She’s been trying to feel better, to get back to a normal that she left behind the moment Maverick described the mission and she decided she was going to make the team. Maybe right now, all she needs to do is cope. And do it with people who stayed around to be with her.

He starts to pull her into his chest but she stops him. Hangman stiffens and draws back. The cold seeps in between them.

“I don’t want to get makeup all over your shirt,” she mumbles, letting her hand fall away but not before it brushes the ridges of his abs. “It’s white.”

“I don’t mind being a marked man in that case,” he laughs and wrestles her into a bear hug, making her lose her balance against him.

She ends up laying across his lap, held against him firmly enough to feel his hammering heart betray the nonchalance with which he holds her.

“Thanks, Hangman.”

“Jesus, don’t call me that,” he complains. But he’s smiling. “You sound like my mom calling me by my full name when you say it.”

“Fine,” she shrugs, although the movement is hampered. “Thanks, dickhead.”

“I kind of like it when you call me that.”

He looks down at her. The moonlight slides from his face, and she can no longer make out his expression. But she can hear his breathing. It has staccatoed, skipping and rushing in time with his heartbeat. His breath grows warmer across the lower half of her face as he lifts her closer. Hangman waits for her to stop him again, but she doesn’t.

“Phoenix?” he asks. She has felt this moment coming and yet, she did not expect either of them to feel so vulnerable at its threshold. The sound of the waves melds with the blood rushing through her ears.

“Dickhead,” she agrees before their lips meet.

He means for the kiss to be slow, cautious even. Respectful. But where once Natasha would have thought kissing Hangman was going too far, it's suddenly not enough. His fingers curl into her hair as she pulls herself up into his lap. His other hand traces her zipper down her back before wrapping around her hip and urging her closer with a squeeze of her ass. She can feel all the ways he wants her, and her pulse echoes his rising desire.

The bite of sand on her knees reminds her they are only barely out of sight of The Hard Deck. Close enough for her friends–or anyone–to stumble over them if they come looking for her. Natasha places her hands on Hangman’s cheeks, noticing how smooth they are. He had to have cleaned up his shave before heading out.  

It takes far more of her willpower than she’d like to admit to break the kiss. They’re nose to nose, their breath rushing over one another’s faces.

“We should go back,” she tells him.

“Back where?” he asks breathlessly, hopefully.

She pushes herself out of his lap and to her feet. “Depends on where you’d like to take this,” Natasha offers, grateful for the night to hide and cool her blush.

Hangman looks relieved before he rushes her and scoops her over his shoulder. Her hair falls into her face as the world flips upside down. “Bagman!”

“You can’t walk back to the BOQ in those shoes!” he tells her before stooping to scoop up said footwear.

“I’ll walk barefoot,” she protests as he starts off down the beach. “Put me down, Seresin!”

“I ever tell you what a cute little ass you have?”

“I’ll fart in your face,” she grunts, trying to push her hair out of her eyes.

He laughs and tightens his hold over her thighs. “Why do you have the comebacks of a teenage boy?”

“Because,” she trails off, an idea hitting her. Natasha slides her hand into his back pocket and pulls out his phone. “If you’re going to carry me off, at least let me tell the guys where I’m going. Rooster has my cards. Can you unlock your phone?”

He reaches around and thumbs it open. Natasha does her best to tuck her hair out of her face. She opens his messages. Rooster is near the top. He’s jostling her too much for her to read their exchange. She types.

She locks the phone and slips it back into Hangman’s pocket with a pat. Well, this mission didn’t go as planned but as long as Rooster checks his phone, it won’t be a total bust.

Eventually, Hangman puts her down but they run into a new challenge when they reach the road. “Can you walk in those?” he asks.

“Not for long,” she admits, feeling a little dumb for being unprepared. She’ll just have to suck it up and soak her blisters later.

“I can carry you again.”

“Not unless you want me to puke down your back,” she warns.

“Piggyback then.”

She gestures to the way the dress hugs her thighs. “It’s too tight.”

Suddenly, Hangman yanks off his shirt. And Natasha can’t help but let her gaze fall appreciatively down his sculpted torso and linger on the trail of hair that disappears into his jeans.

“Put this on,” he tells her, holding out his shirt.

Natasha’s eyes skip back to his face, trying to figure out when her brain short circuited. “What?”

“I’ll carry your dress. And your shoes. And you.”

She rolls her eyes. “No thanks. I’ll walk.”

He thrusts the shirt into her chest. “You know you can’t wait to get your legs around me.” Hangman winks.

Natasha almost calls the whole thing off, but Hangman heads her off and kisses her again. He’s right. She can’t wait to get her legs around him.

When he lets her breathe, she glances up at the road. They’re hidden in the shadow of the hill leading up to it. Defiantly, she strips off her dress and tosses it at him. Hangman manages to catch it even though he’s watching the bra he had already snuck a peak at earlier. She pulls on his shirt, and his body heat surrounds her once again.

He drapes the dress over his arm and turns so she can hoist herself onto his back. His hands close confidently over her thighs, tucking the ends of his shirt snugly beneath his fingers. Natasha loops her arms around his neck and rests her chin on his shoulder.

“We could have taken an uber,” she says, letting her lips brush his jaw. He starts up the hill, bent but not burdened by her weight.

It’s not until they are across the well lit street and in the shadow of the tree lined golf course that he tells her, “Do you really want someone else to watch you straddle me the whole way back?”

“Fuck you,” she says, burying her face in the crook of his neck. He smells so good and more intoxicating than any of the alcohol she’s pounded down tonight.

“I hope that means what I think it does,” he teases.

She squeezes her thighs around his hips and smiles to herself at his sharp inhale.  

Masterlist | Chapter 9 | Chapter 11

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

Okay so I can’t draw Ange, but here is my DIY nevertheless. 😂 This was meant to be a sort of birthday gift and I’m SO SORRY that it took me forever to get out. But I really hope you enjoy some parental Haddotin and that I did Ange justice. 😉

The Adventures of Ange Begins

Ange really had meant to tell them beforehand. It has been on the tip of their tongue for so long. It was just…they knew how their fathers were going to react, and it was much easier to be at ‘the point of no return’ when they mentioned it. Ange played with the zipper on their jacket as they waited for the phone to dial out. It rang twice before it was promptly picked up.

“Haddock residence?” An older voice greeted.

Ange smiled. “Hi, Nestor. It’s me. Are Papa or Daddy available?”

“Of course, Ange! One moment please.”

Ange smiled as they were put on hold, imagining Nestor would be hovering in the background during the call as they were most likely put on speaker phone. It was fine though. Ange wanted Nestor to know as well, and Uncle Calculus too for that matter. In fact, both would have been easier to convince, but they did have more sense than to try and pull something like that.

“Ange! How are you? How’s your film project coming along?” Their papa’s voice came through first.

Of course before they could utter a word, Daddy’s loud, booming voice filled the receiver. 

“Mon petite lupin (My little bunny)! When are you going to come back home and visit your dear old dads? It’s been so long…”

“I know, Daddy. And I will soon, but…I’m actually headed out of town today. It’s for my film project. But I promise to be back at Moulinsart when I’m back!”

It was silent on the other end, and Ange had to keep themself from fidgeting in place like they were fifteen all over again.

“How far out of town?” Papa’s flat tone finally questioned.

Ange could practically visualize the ginger man’s face pulled down in thought as if he were trying to solve one of his puzzles. 

“...South America?”

“Oh my!”

“Blistering barnacles!”

“Great snakes!”

Ange had to fight off the urge to sigh. This was exactly what they had been dreading.

“Can we still get plane tickets this late?” Daddy questioned.

“I’ll have to make some calls, but if we pack now I bet we can still make it. What time does your plane leave, Ange?”

“I board in about ten minutes.”

There was silence again, but this was a different kind of silence. It was like Ange could physically feel their papa’s disappointment seeping through the phone.

“You see, I’m doing a documentary on Andean mountain cats and why they are becoming endangered, and well…I have to be in the Andes to film Andean mountain cats.” They laughed nervously.

“Alone?” Daddy asked, aghast.

“No, I’m being smart. Onu Skut is going to pick me up from the airport and fly me up the mountains. And then I’m meeting a nature guide and a wildlife expert who will be camping with me for the next six weeks. My advisor vetted them and everything.”

“Six weeks?!” Daddy complained.

“What are their names specifically?” Papa demanded.

Ange passed the names over easily. Dr. Kitty Oncilla had been studying wild cats in South America for the past sixteen years, and from her emails, seemed very excited about having Ange out to exploit the dangerous superstitions and misconceptions endangering the species. Brayan was a good friend of Tharkey, and all it took was mentioning Ange was a Haddock before the mountain climber was enthusiastically agreeing to Ange’s request. So really there was nothing for their papa to be worried about. Ange was a responsible adult, and certainly behaving as such. They felt like they could be afforded a little trust at this point.

Daddy’s voice suddenly roared through the receiver as he repeated the names, forcing Ange to pull the phone as far away from their ear as they could. That had to mean Uncle Calculus had now joined in the conversation as the man’s hearing had only worsened in his old age despite his claims that he absolutely does not need a hearing aid yet.

“Tell them to look up an old colleague of mine when they get there! Her name is Oncilla. Kitty Oncilla.”

Ange couldn’t help but beam smugly knowing Papa would have no choice but accept Ange’s decision now.

“You could have told us sooner.” He finally stated.

A pang of guilt hit Ange hard. 

“I know. And I am sorry. I just wanted you to see that I am an adult now, and I’m ready to start having my own adventures. Like you and Daddy.”

“No! Not like Papa and Daddy.” Nestor pleaded, causing Ange to laugh.

“Look, I’ll come by the estate the moment I land back in Belgium, and I absolutely promise not to keep you out of the loop again. Okay?”

“And we’ll hold you to that.” Daddy’s warm voice was gentle and reassuring on Ange’s nerves. “Now, have fun. Take lots of footage, and call us when you can. We love you.”

Ange felt their heart swelling under the immense gratitude they felt for having their fathers support. 

“Thanks, Daddy! I will try to call, but I can’t promise anything. I love you too! Talk to you when I get back!”

Ange hung up the phone just in time to hear their flight being called over the speaker. In a hurry to get to their gate, it never occurred to them just how quiet their Papa got by the end of the call. 

***

Haddock heaved a heavy sigh after Ange hung up. He had thought dropping them off at uni had been hard. This, on the other hand, was almost unbearable. Of course, he was at least taking it better of the two of them. His arm that was slung around Tintin’s shoulders slowly started to rub up and down his partner’s arm as the younger continued to glare at the phone. 

No matter how much he tried to deny it, Haddock knew Tintin always had a problem with how much of himself he saw in Ange. Haddock, of course, absolutely adored it. However, it was the image of Ange getting stuffed in a trunk, shot at, or any of the other dangerous stints Tintin had been known for at their age that seemed to be what kept him up the most at night. Ange being only a few hours away at uni had been an adjustment, but eventually one he had been able to accept as Tintin could still get to them if they were in trouble. Now they were headed half a world away.

He placed a gentle kiss on the top of his ginger head.

“They’ll be fine. We’ve raised a very smart and adaptable young adult. They can do this.”

“That’s just it though.” Tintin murmured. “I didn’t raise them at all for this. Did they know what to pack? Do they know how to start a fire without matches? Do they know what to do in the event of a landslide? A rockslide? An avalanche? There was so much to prepare them for, and they didn’t let me do any of it!”

Tintin tensed as he took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a sharp exhale. He only took a moment’s pause before he shoved Haddock’s hand off, storming out of the room.

“I need to do some research on a damn Andean mountain cat.”

Haddock watched him go with a frown. The last time he had seen Tintin this worked up was right after Milou passed. One thing was for certain, this was going to be a long six weeks.

**One week later**

“There’s a storm coming in off the coast of Chile!” Tintin declared. “What part of the Andes did Ange say they would be in?”

Haddock and Nestor both shrugged which only seemed to work Tintin up more. 

“The Andes stretches across SIX different South American countries! Why did no one think to question them on that?”

“You know what you could do.” Haddock suggested. “You could call Skut and find out where exactly he dropped them off at.”

Tintin blinked as if such a thought never occurred to him before walking out of the room. He returned five minutes later, slumping down beside Haddock.

“They’re in Peru.”

“That’s good to know.”

**Three weeks later**

“What if they run into poachers? What if they run into mountain lions? I’m just saying it’s a good tool for them to have!”

“You want to fly all the way to Peru to give your child a gun?” Haddock asked skeptically.

Tintin paused as if flummoxed by his reaction. “Don’t you think…?”

“NO!” Haddock, Calculus, and Nestor chimed in together.

**Five weeks later**

Tintin calmly walked into the study and took a seat next to Haddock on the couch where he was reading the morning paper. At first the former captain was set to ignore him knowing his love was being more than a little irrational lately and was most likely gearing up for another ‘rescue Ange’ argument. However, after two minutes he just couldn’t take it anymore.

“For the love of Poseidon, Tintin! What? What in the name of all that is good in this world could it possibly be this time?!”

Tintin opened their mouth when Haddock jumped to his feet, throwing his paper to the ground.

“Are the small little mountain cats they’re going to film actually vicious fiends? Is there a cave in that range that actually belongs to a sordid gang of lowlife ruffians? Come on, out with it!”

“Ah-ha!” Tintin declared, jumping to his feet triumphantly. “You’ve been just as worried as I have.”

“Well, of course I’ve been worried! What parent wouldn’t be?! But I’ve had faith that any child of yours would be able to get themself out of most trouble they could find themself in! And then you bring me these nightmare scenarios!”

“Only because we’ve lived these nightmare scenarios! And Ange doesn’t even have anyone to watch their back like I did.”

“YOU WENT TO AMERICA AND TOOK ON GANGSTERS WITH NO ONE BUT YOUR DOG!”

“RIGHT! I HAD BACK-UP!”

Haddock ran a hand under his hat and through his graying hair. Why was he married to the most stubborn man in the world?

“Are you going to tell me what it is you found out or are you going to make me guess it?” Haddock demanded, locking eyes with the younger fiend.

Tintin smirked. “You know the kid who inherited Rastapopoulos’ fortune?”

“Yes.” Haddock growled.

“Who I said there was no way he just stuck with fashion when he had a mentor like him?”

“Yes…”

“Who…”

“Oh! Just say it Tintin!”

“He’s in Peru, illegally hunting wild cats for his new fur line, and guess which one tops his list?”

Haddock stood motionless for a long moment. Longer than Tintin was expecting if his raised eyebrow was anything to go off. However, as the red started to seep into his cheeks, Tintin’s expression quickly morphed to smug satisfaction.

“BABY-SNATCHER! POACHER! OVERPRICED FASHION DISASTER! IF HE HARMS ONE HAIR ON OUR ANGE’S HEAD THAT HEIR OF A SMUGGLER WILL HAVE TO ANSWER TO ME!”

March was almost too calm a word as Haddock practically stampeded down the stairs much to the shock of Nestor and Calculus. Tintin trailed behind much like the cat who got the cream, more than happy to let Haddock rant and rave all the way to Peru.

“CALL WHOEVER YOU HAVE TO BUT WE’RE GOING TO SOUTH AMERICA TONIGHT! IF I HAVE TO DRIVE TO THE COAST AND SWIM TO PERU SO BE IT!”

Haddock wrenched the door open much to the surprise of the person on the other side, hand posed to knock. Fathers and child blinked at each other for a good two to three seconds before Haddock and Tintin threw their arms around them.

“ANGE!”

Ange leaned into the hug, tired and sore, but no worse for wear. Haddock was quite convinced he would never let them go again when he looked down to find a pair of beady eyes peeking back at him from under their collar. With a yelp, he stumbled backwards only to fall completely off the stoop. Ange laughed as Tintin stared at their passenger curiously.

“Sorry Daddy. This is Cannelle (Cinnamon). He’s a chinchilla who was quite content to hitchhike back home with me.”

Haddock started grumbling about sneaky rodents as he slowly pulled himself back to his feet. 

“What happened, Ange? I thought you weren’t supposed to be back for another week?” Tintin asked innocently, earning Haddock’s glare.

As if he hadn’t just roused Haddock’s ire to go forcibly fetch them back. 

“It’s a bit of a long story. But it’s a good one!” Ange explained as Tintin guided them in the house with a hand on their back. “So it started when we encountered these poachers…”

Haddock froze in the doorway, before slapping a hand over his eyes. He didn’t care what Tintin said. If his child was going to go down this path, he was going to take up his pipe again. His nerves needed it.

Finally got the chance to draw Ange properly and I am satisfied with the result!

I would love to see your versions of them (not necessarily this pose) so see it as a DIY with no deadline and if anyone wants to try it feel free❣

Character info follows under the cut:

Ange Haddock has been using they/them since their teenage years.

They were born on Friday, 13 May. If you ask Ange this explains their clumsiness and bad luck that leads to dangers and misadventures. If you ask Nestor is the genes' fault.

Even as an adult, Ange continues calling Tintin Papa and Haddock Daddy. Calculus is still their dearest uncle and godfather and Nestor is just Nestor.

Affected by Papa's journalism and fascinated by new technological advances but not letting their artistic nature fall behind, they aspire to be a documentarist.

After art school, they travel the world searching for topics for their documentaries.

Ange loves all animals but especially hedgehogs, hamsters, and guinea pigs. They never get another dog or cat as they could never replace Milou and Chatton.

The standing-up quiff is Papa's work as his effort to tame Ange's unruled hair since a baby. Ange continues to do it by force of habit later in life.

The beanie is a favourite accessory for them; they haven't stopped wearing it since their teenage years. Before that, it was a variety of hats (baseball caps, floppy hats, berets, etc.).

They're really kind and well-mannered but, most of the time unintentionally, use Daddy's special swearing words. Despite everyone's efforts, Ange could never stop this habit. The least to say is Daddy is proud.

They try to keep in touch with all their family (all the uncles and aunts) but writing, in general, isn't their best skill so, despite a few letters, they prefer calls and, if they get the chance, visits.

Ange's home will always be Marlinspike Mansion and after every trip, they return there.

I have many ideas for Ange, their life and their adventures, and even their own friends! If you're interested I could share more and maybe someday I could show Ange's stories properly, who knows?

[therenlover]

One Last Night In Madripoor (An 18+ Helmut Zemo/Reader Oneshot)

Synopsis: Baron Helmut Zemo is a lonely, wanted man looking for some fun, you’re a piss-poor bounty hunter in search of a connection before leaving your life of crime behind, and fate has brought you together at a party the likes of which has never been seen before. You only have one night left in Madripoor, so why not take a chance?

Tags: Smut, SoftDom!Zemo, Hook Up, Semi-Public Sex, Drinking, Safe Sex, Explicit Consent, First Meeting, Wall Sex, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Swearing, Explicit Sexual Content

Word Count: 4200~

This fic has been crossposted under the same title to my AO3!

---------

Madripoor was a place like nothing you had ever seen.

It wasn’t that the sights were anything special. You could find seedy criminal underbellies lined with neon where the streets ran red with blood anywhere if you looked hard enough. Even the ocean view didn’t do much to set it apart from any other place visually. No, Madripoor’s scenery and architecture weren’t what kept your eyes wide with wonder whenever you found yourself wandering through the winding back-alleys without a purpose. It was the people that kept you around.

Thieves, pirates, and miscreants had been taking shelter at the docks since before anyone there could remember. It was a city borne of the underbelly of society, the people nobody sees, but you saw them. You saw them every day when you stood in the main market waiting for an easy bounty. There were faces everywhere; big and small, tall and short, scarred and flawless. No two people in the streets of Madripoor were ever exactly alike. If you needed to remember someone, their unique face was right there waiting in your mind.

After living on the island for almost 6 months, most people were already cataloged neatly in your mind as friend or foe. This man, though, he was new. He was different.

The night was still young. There was some trouble at the Princess Bar that ended with Selby dead and a few murderers loose in the streets with a price on their heads, but you steered clear. Going after the killers meant going up against hundreds if not thousands of trained bounty hunters and assassins and no amount of money was worth dying over now, not while you were so close to freedom. Instead of chasing your doom, you decided to head to your room, get dressed up, and head out to wherever the music was loudest in search of a place to forget about your problems for the night. The thudding sounds of poorly DJ-ed club remixes led you to Leonardo’s Place. That’s where you found him.

You were two drinks in and sticking close to the wall when he stumbled into your line of sight. What initially caught your eye was his dancing. He couldn’t move for shit. What kept your attention, though, was his face.

There was transience to him, like at any moment someone could bump into him and he would disappear without a trace at their touch. Despite that he was gaudy. Everything about his clothing screamed wealth and fine taste from the thread count of his obnoxious purple turtleneck to the shine on his boots. He was strange, a walking contradiction, and one who had never had the pleasure of gracing your presence or screwing you over in the past. In the simplest of terms, he intrigued you. With nothing left to lose you downed the last of your cocktail and made your way to the gap in the crowd where the stranger had staked his claim. It was game time.

“You come here alone?” You asked. Your voice was barely a whisper above the heavy thrumming of the music.

He gave you a long look up and down before answering as if he were trying to size you up. Something about having his gaze linger on your body made your heartbeat soar. “I’m not looking for company,” His accented tone was gruff but left a sliver of room for reconsideration. You took the chance. What could go wrong?

With as much tact and grace as you could muster you let yourself slip a little closer to him. “What, do I look too expensive for you?” you teased, before backing off with a grin, “Thanks for the compliment, but I’m not here for that. My job is a little more… dangerous.” As you danced, the hem of your dress rode up your thigh just enough to reveal the knife holster in your garter belt. It pleased you greatly to see this handsome stranger do a double-take; that meant he was looking at your upper thigh in the first place. “I just liked what I saw in you… do you like what you see in me?”

Somehow, your little joke had endeared him to you, however minutely. Instead of brushing you off the man paused his jerky dancing for a moment to really take you in. Then, he caved. “Would you like a drink?” He asked.

You smirked. “Who would I be if I turned down a free drink from a handsome stranger,”

He met you in the middle as he offered you his hand. “I never promised it would be free,”

So, the two of you found yourselves at the bar, bodies leaned into each other and away from the rest of the sweltering crowd as the bartender slid you your order. The stranger was drinking a brandy straight while you opted for a sidecar. It was enough alcohol that you were starting to feel pretty buzzed, but you still felt in full control of yourself. You took a long sip before speaking. “So, what should I call you?”

It took him a moment to respond but once he did, he seemed sure of himself. “You can call me Helmut, but Baron is fine as well,”

You cocked up an eyebrow. “Is that a nickname?”

“More of a title,”

He took a drink as you gawked. “Like royalty?”

“Not like. I am,”

Your cheeks flushed. The rational part of your mind was so stunned by the ease with which Helmut lied that it seemed to short circuit completely, leaving you very puzzled and more than a little intrigued. “Well, pardon me, Mr. Baron. What’s royalty like you doing in a place like this?”

“There are plenty of reasons a man like me would have business here. A woman as beautiful as you, though�� not so much,” he waved his hand in loose gestures as he spoke, “Why risk your life and beauty for this? A life living in the underground where you cannot so much as dream of seeing the stars?”

You finished your drink in one large swig. It burned down your throat but you relished in the pain. “Not all of us are lucky enough to be born in a place where we can see the stars. Funny enough, though, I’m just about to get out,”

“Is that right?”

“I finally saved up enough money from small jobs to buy my way out from under the Power Broker’s thumb,” Something about the way Helmut smiled at you made you feel safe. It was like you could tell him your worst, darkest secrets and not feel an ounce of fear or guilt. “I’m nothing special here, a small-time bounty hunter, and I kept it that way for a reason. I’m not valuable and I don’t know much. If I just pay my dues and keep the money coming until I can get their claws out of my back, I should be free to leave with a freighter tomorrow morning,”

Helmut was quick to respond. “Ah, travel by freighter. It’s terribly dangerous to be a stowaway, you know? Impossible to predict quite what the seas will be like,”

“Well, that’s just a risk I’ll have to take to get out of here and stop… what was it that you said I was doing? Risking my life and beauty?”

The two of you chuckled as Helmut took one last drink to empty his glass. Then, the conversation stilled. Around you people were alive, gyrating to the music as their pulses thumped to the beat, but it was like they weren’t even there. Instead, your whole being was focused on the strange man in front of you who had stolen away your sensibilities with his cool tone and thick accent. He made you feel alive. No, more than alive. Every color was brighter, every sound was sharper, every sip of your drink was crisper. He was a once-in-a-lifetime man, and this was a once-in-a-lifetime night. Oh, to hell with it!

“I like you, Baron,” you purred, pressing yourself close to him. His breath hitched the moment you touched him. He acted as if it had been a very long time since he was last touched like that. “And I think you like me too. In fact, I think you like me enough that we should take this conversation somewhere a little more private. What do you say?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, his gloved hand made its way around your wrist, and in a moment’s time, he was pulling you across the crowded dance floor towards a small, secluded hallway. You assumed that meant yes.

The instant you made it to the shelter of the shadows Helmut was on you like a man starved. One of his hands was quick to explore the skin just above the hem of your dress as the other pressed against the wall, caging you in and holding you as a more than willing hostage to his affections. He didn’t kiss your face, and you weren’t complaining about that, but he did put his mouth to good use sucking a dark bruise into your collarbone. His ministrations only stopped when a high, keening sound escaped your lips.

“You like that, don’t you, meine kleine schlampe?” he growled through gritted teeth. Something about his tone turned your already weak legs to jelly. The second you went limp in his grip, though, he pulled back. Straightening himself out, he offered you a steadying arm. You took it without hesitation. “I’m terribly sorry to be so rude. I assure you that I am not usually the type of man to hook up with someone on a whim, I’ve simply been… indisposed for many years and haven’t had many opportunities for pleasure, especially not with a woman as beautiful as you,”

His compliment was enough to have you blushing like a schoolgirl. You had killed more people than you could reasonably count, and probably fucked even more, but something about the way Helmut looked and sounded and acted made you feel almost innocent to his advances. He was a drug and you needed to get your fix before he disappeared forever.

“Does that mean you think I’m special?” You asked, all doe eyes with an innocent smile. Helmut ate it right up.

“Yes, schatzi. Very special,”

You hitched a leg up, letting your heel dig into his expensive dress pants and drag him closer to you once again. “First your little slut and now your little treasure? Which one is it, Helmut?”

“And so smart,”

“Move, Baron!”

At your insistence, Helmut was on you once again, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down your neck as he fiddled with his gloves, yanking them off and shoving them in his back pocket before he continued. “So demanding,” he chided, and yet he continued to lavish you with affection, his hand climbing higher and higher up your thigh. Your back was pressed flush to the wall now, and you were painfully aware of just how warm Helmut was. He smelled like a rich man’s cologne and yet his skin tasted of cheap soap when you leaned in to give him a bruise of his own.

“You love it,” you replied. He let out a husky laugh.

“I suppose I do,” he chuckled, and then his fingers brushed over your core. Your knees buckled. Helmut kept you upright with his body as he continued to taunt you through your underwear, but he seemed more confident now, almost cocky. “My needy schatzi, have you no patience?”

Your response was breathless; a confession.

“Not with you,”

Something about your words lit a fire in Helmut’s eyes. In an instant he had your leg hiked up while he ground his hardened length against your clothed wetness. Your mind went blank. He felt big. A mindless whimper fell from your lips.

“How do you want me?” Helmut asked. As he spoke he ran a light finger down your elevated thigh. You offered up another whimper. “I’ll need you to use your words and tell me what you want or I can’t give it to you,” His tone had you wet enough that you worried you were dripping.

With a gulp, you managed to fumble out the words. “I’ll blow you first if you promise to fuck me,”

That had him grinning like a wolf. “Perhaps you are my little schlampe, so eager to get down on your knees for me…” And you were. Even on shaky legs, you found yourself happily falling to your knees as the Baron fumbled with his fly. It was only then that you found yourself gazing down the hall towards the cacophony of lights and sounds and people maybe 20 feet away from your hiding place in the shadows. As if he could sense your discomfort, Helmut paused. “Are you alright?”

You nodded quickly. “I just forgot we were out in the open for a second,”

“Do you want to stop? If the location is the problem, I would gladly pause so we can find a new hideaway,” he stopped short, looking down and meeting your heavily lidded gaze, “or perhaps the idea of putting on a show excites you?” Your heart jumped out of your chest. Helmut noticed. “Well, if my little schlampe is so keen on putting on a show, she should get a move on,”

That was your cue to get to work. In a swift motion, you finished unzipping his fly and shifted his boxers, letting his lovely cock spring free. It was a pleasant penis and far as they went, average in length but thick with a leaking purple tip at half-mast. Just looking at it made you clamp your legs together.

Slowly, you gave a tentative lick up the underside of his length. He felt heavy on your tongue in the best of ways. Helmut jerked upward, a man possessed. You couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s been a long time, huh?”

“Less talking, more working little schlam-” you cut Helmut off quickly by taking most of his length into his mouth. That seemed to shut him up. His wolf-like grin had dissolved into a slack-jawed mess the second you started to suck him off. Oh, this was going to be fun.

For the most part, the Baron let you set the pace, bobbing your head and taking as much of his length as you comfortably could, but after a short while his hands were buried in your hair as he fought the urge to buck into your throat, hard. With a particularly rough snap of his hips, Helmut pulled away.

“You are an angel from heaven, schatzi,” he groaned, pulling himself slowly from your mouth as you got your first good deep breath in a while, “but a deal is a deal, and it wouldn’t be quite fair if I got to have all the fun, now would it?” Your breath hitched in your throat. Finally time for the main event.

Helmut was surprisingly gentle with you as he offered you a hand and helped you back up, only pausing to wipe a line of dribble off your chin with his thumb. With anyone else, it would have felt wholly humiliating but with Helmut… well, it did things to you you would rather not admit. You quirked up an eyebrow, though, when he got on his knees in turn, mirroring your past position. “What are you doing, Baron?”

“I simply assumed my sweet schatzi would enjoy a reward for taking my cock so well,” his words had you biting your lip as your cheeks flushed, “now be a good girl and take what I give you. I want to hear those pretty noises you made earlier,” With that, his face disappeared under your skirt. He pulled down your panties and… snickered?

“What now?” you groaned, squirming as his hot breath hit your exposed nub.

“You’re sopping wet,” he replied. Out of habit, you moved to shut your legs but found Helmut’s large hand was holding them open. “I do enjoy being sandwiched between your thighs, but you shouldn’t hide yourself from me. Take your pleasure. You’ve earned it,” That was when he began his assault on your folds.

You had been with plenty of partners over the years, all with varying proficiencies when it came to giving pleasure, but no one had ever made you feel quite as good as Helmut did while you gripped his hair and rode his face with reckless abandon. He always hit just the right spot, alternating between sucking on your sensitive clit and running his rough tongue in sloppy circles against it. In no time flat your pleasure was building toward’s its peak as your knees trembled.

“Helmut,” you squeaked, “Helmut I’m gonna cuuuUUOH!”

You were suddenly thrown over the edge of pleasure as the Baron worked you open with his fingers, pressing that spot inside of you just right. It was a revelation. Nothing would ever compare to him and you hadn’t even fucked yet. Once you had regained some semblance of stability he emerged from his place between your thighs, face slick with your juices, wearing the expression of a cat that got the cream.

“You make such lovely sounds for me, schatzi,” Helmut groaned, rising from his place at your feet and reaching into his pocket. While he fumbled for a condom you took the time to actually remove your panties, lifting one shaky leg at a time before balling them up and tossing them on the ground. You could grab them later. Or not! In all honesty, your ruined undies were the last thing on your mind as your watched Helmut roll the condom onto his proud cock, pumping himself a few times. “Now, are you sure you want this?”

You had never felt more sober in your whole life despite the drinks you’d downed earlier.

“God, yes,”

“Wonderful,”

He caged you into his body once again, lining himself up on your slick folds, and then with a pronounced bite against your collarbone, he was entering you. It wasn’t painful or uncomfortable, you just felt full, like a missing piece of your body had been completed. For the first few thrusts, you were too blissed out to really take note of anything around you, but once you tuned back into the world of the living you realized Helmut was talking. Well, babbling was more like it. He seemed to simply be speaking his stream of consciousness into your ear as he pistoned in and out of you like a madman. There was a jilted rhythm to it, but the abnormality kept you on your toes.

“I won’t be letting you go any time soon, schatzi, and definitely not on some dank freighter like a rat from the gutters. No, you will travel with me. Once I help my friends and slip away from the front lines I can take you anywhere your little heart desires. Paris, Vienna, Australia… Mein Gott, what a sweet cunt,”

Any sane woman, after hearing his sex-drunken musings, would have run. They would have heard the wild ramblings of a madman and left after their little fling was done to never see him again. It was only rational. He didn’t even know your real name. Sane women didn’t run away with strangers claiming to be barons they hooked up with in a seedy club selling stolen Van Goghs in a hub of the criminal underworld.

The only thing was, though, that you weren’t a sane woman.

You were a killer, a child left in the streets to live or die who had scraped themselves together and dragged themselves towards life. So what if the idea of some rich mysterious benefactor with a good dick coming in to save the day sounded fantastic? It was fantastic. Like your own personal version of Pretty Woman. Even if he wasn’t as rich as he claimed to be, being poor and getting dicked down by him was better than being poor and alone.

For just a moment, and with no regrets, you let yourself get lost in the fantasy and just let go.

It was as if Helmut could sense a difference.

“Are you close, little schlampe?” He gasped, letting his thrusts take on a faster staccato rhythm.

You could do little more than moan and nod as he pounded you into the wall. That seemed to be enough for him to get the message, though.

“What a good girl,” he purred. His mouth was so close to your ear, his hot breath tickling the sensitive flesh with each heaving breath he took. As he chased his own climax, he brought a hand between your bodies and rubbed tight, wet circles around your clit. It was already sensitive, your body was only barely recovering from your first orgasm, and yet something about the overstimulation was thrilling, like racing towards an impossible dream. With a shout, you came for the second time, melting into Baron Helmut’s arms as he quickly followed.

The two of you stayed there, slumped against the cool wall and still connected by your dripping sexes, for a few moments, breathing heavy. Surprisingly, you were the first to speak.

“Wow,” you breathed, letting a soft laugh escape your lips.

Helmut returned the sentiment. “You were wonderful,” In a strange moment of intimacy, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, but then he pulled out, tying off the full condom and tossing it to the ground as he tucked himself back into his boxers and zipped up his fly.

“Are you just gonna leave that there?” you made a gesture towards his litter.

“They have janitors,”

A burbling laugh escaped from your lips. “That they do,”

Back in the main room of the party, the crowd had only grown larger as the night progressed. Nobody had seen you, nor had they noticed your cries as they danced and drank and made merry under the neon lights. You were, for all intents and purposes, invisible at Helmut’s side. Within and without. There was something exhilarating about knowing he was the only one that truly saw you in a room packed with hundreds. It was like something out of a twisted fairytale.

“So…” you broached the subject gently while you pulled down your dress to protect your modesty, “Did you mean what you said back there about Paris and Vienna, or…”

“Oh, you heard that?”

You snickered. “It was pretty hard not to with you breathing in my ear,”

“I apologize,” he leaned against the wall beside you, shoulder to shoulder in the darkness, “but yes, I meant what I said. I-”

Suddenly, from down the hall, a booming voice interrupted your moment.

“There you are!”

“Goddamnit, Zemo, I thought we told you to stay low not hire an escort,”

There, at the mouth of the hallway, stood two massive men. They were obviously displeased, and though their faces were obscured by the lights you could tell you weren’t the one they were after.

They called him Zemo… where had you heard that name before?

Helmut stepped away from the wall with a shrug. “At least I didn’t cause a scene by forgetting to put my phone on silent,”

The larger of the two men stayed where he was, while the other walked to meet the Baron in the middle.

“I swear to God, man, you’ve gotten ten times more insufferable since I learned you were rich.

The Baron shrugged. “It comes with the territory,”

“But you don’t have to be such a jackass about it,”

You felt it was a good time to chime in.

“Thank you so much for that, Helmut, but I think I should give you guys some privacy,” you said, straightening out your dress and walking deeper into the hallway. There had to be an exit somewhere…

“Wait!” When you turned, you found Helmut rushing to meet you. The men in the background looked shocked and almost smug. “Save your money. Meet me out at the airstrip tomorrow afternoon if you feel like seeing me again. If not, know that the Power Broker doesn’t let go of assets cheap, and you just slept with a man with a million dollar bounty, so buying your freedom isn’t an option. If you want to go without me, you’ll have to hitch a ride on a cargo ship but not as a stowaway. Working for your keep is the best way to stay under the radar. Nobody can touch you once you’r-”

You cut him off by pressing a finger to his lips. “I’ll see you at your private jet, Baron,”

He smirked. “So you will,” With as much gusto as a man could muster, he returned to his companions but not before offering one last goodbye. “Farewell, schatzi, until tomorrow,”

As you leaned up against the wall once more, you watched them go with a twinkle in your eye.

“Who was that?”

“None of your business, James,”

“Guys, what the hell did I just step on?”

“I believe that was my used rubber,”

“ZEMO!”

-------

a/n: I hope you enjoyed the filth! I haven’t written for Zemo before, even though I’ve loved him for years, but he’s definitely going into my main rotation now. If you have any ideas, send them my way! I’d love to fill the void, because there just aren’t very many Zemo x reader fics out there. If you enjoyed this, maybe reblog or leave a comment! I’d love to hear your thoughts. Thanks again!

Please do not post my works to any other sites, thanks! <3

[i-cant-sing]

How would (Yanderes of your choice) react to a pregnant darling? Like the second she tells him she’s preggers, how would they react?

Yanderes x pregnant darling

Mmmhh, I'll be doing Todoroki Clan, Overhaul, Bakugo Clan, Ushijima Wakatoshi.

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Yandere Todoroki Clan:

Okay, so the clan finds out you're pregnant, perhaps due to a fling or something, just kids being dumb and all. The first thing they do is calm you down. Obviously, they are all very disappointed in you- but with the way you're sobbing, its clear that you're very sorry as well.

Whether you want to keep the baby or abort it, the family will 100% support you. Either way, Dabi is going to kill whoever knocked you up. Sorry, thats non-negotiable.

They are all constantly hovering over you. Rei is always making you nutritious food, Fuyumi is applying stretch mark creams and helping you to the bath, Shotou is always right by your side, either to help you walk or give your sore feet massages. Natsuo is making sure that you're eating all your vitamins, checking if you have bleeding gums or any nutritional deficiencies. Rei and Natsuo always accompany you to your doctor appointments, making copies of your tests and prescriptions.

Enji is keeping up with all your cravings, no matter how weird. You're craving ice chips? Alright. You want ice cream at 3 am? The fridge is stocked with your favs. Oh no, you want soft serve? Its okay, princess, I'll drive us there. I'm sure they'll open the store for the no. 1 hero.

Dabi is surprisingly very understanding. He's not reacting badly to any of your mood swings. If you're mad at him, he won't do anything to infuriate you anymore. If you're crying because you can't get off the floor on your own, Dabi will calmly pick you up and take you to your bed. He knows stress is not good for the baby, and you're also a baby in his eyes, so he'll be uncharacteristically sweet and patient.

I can also see Enji giving you his card so that you can shop for the baby, but the rest of the fam just push you into bed and huddle up close to you as they all look at the laptop with you, doing online shopping. You will have to sneak in a Endeavour onesie since your brothers keep on removing the item from the basket.

Yandere Kai Chisaki:

When he finds out you're pregnant with his baby, he's quiet. There are million things running through his mind. On one hand, having a baby will have you more bound to him, you'll fall into Stockholm syndrome faster. On the other hand, he's possessive. He doesn't want to share you with anyone. But you seem to want it, and should you ever return to your hysterical ways and run away from him, he could use the baby to against you.

Oh man, Kai is not only getting the best OB/GYN for you, he's doing extra check ups on you too. We already know he's gonna have a whole medical room for you, fully equipped with the latest technology. He doesn't trust you when you say you're fine. He's there with you throughout the whole process, and he has his men monitoring you when he's busy.

Oh and when it times when you can find the baby's gender, if you say you dont wanna know and want it to be a surprise, thats fine. But he's going to find the gender, he just won't tell you about it. He needs to be mentally prepared.

Kai will cater to all your needs. He will help you bathe, dress, watch you swallow your vitamins. Whatever cravings you have, he will provide for you, but to an extent where its not harmful. Like you can have sweets, but not too many.

He will talk to you even in a more patronising tone than before, bending down to your height so that he's eye level with you, and then he explains why you can or can't do certain things.

Knows your hormones are going crazy, so he won't react when you yell or cry, just waits for you to calm down so that he can take care of you again.

Likes to rub your belly, not because he cares about the baby, but because it eases your pain (also becausehe wants to near you). He will absolutely rub your sore muscles and will even let you take walks in the garden, with him accompanying you of course.

He's just really sweet to you. Well, sweeter than before.

Yandere Bakugou (+ clan):

Oh so you're pregnant with a Bakugou? The happiest day of his life! No, abortion is not an option unless its endangering your life. I can see him wrapping his arms around you and spinning you around, hes over the moon! He's going to wipe your tears away and wash away any fears you have about starting a family. Katsuki tells you he will support you 100% and to hell with your family if they disown you for it. He's going to take care of everything, just be with him.

First things first, he's gonna propose and marry you. Next thing, you're gonna have to leave your job or put your studies/career goals on hold; you're pregnant with his offspring- he's not allowing you to put yourself in danger like that.

He is up in an instant when something is wrong, always worrying over you whenever you hiss or whimper in pain. If you listened to him, Bakugou would always be taking you to the hospital for anything. Luckily, you didn't.

Considering that you're both still young, and Bakugou is focusing on becoming the no.1 hero, I imagine you move in with his parents, or at least somewhere close to them, so that they're always able to pop in and check in on you. Mitsuki is taking your measurements (that change as your bump grows) so that she's making maternity clothes, made specially for your needs and requirements. And not to mention the cutest clothes she makes for the newest addition for the family.

Masaru will be taking care of all your cravings, and is unsurprised when you want spicy food (but makes sure its not hot enough to give you an ulcer lol). Tells you all the stories about Mitsuki when she was pregnant. And then they both show you Katsuki's baby pictures and all the embarrassing stories.

And when Bakugou returns home, he ushers you to lay down on the couch so that he can talk to the baby. Scolding the fetus for giving its mother a hard time, before breaking out in a grin when the baby kicks back.

Bakugou definitely loves to take you on late night drives, adoring the way your eyes take in the city lights. He lets you play your favourite music and buys you your favourite foods, not once complaining about your mood swings or anything.

Yandere Ushijima Wakatoshi:

He's all smiles. Gentle, soft smiles.

So happy he's going to be dad, and even happier that you're his baby mama. He's going to hug you and kiss you so sweetly, before pulling you to his chest as he tells you how happy he is. He'll tell you that he'll take care if everything, he'll provide for you and the baby. You just be his good little housewife.

Wakatoshi will wake up before you so that he can appreciate the way you look when the sun rays illuminate your face. He'll be rubbing his hand over your bump anytime he can, always kissing it before showering you in affection.

I can see him waking up every time you have morning sickness, pulling your hair back and patting your back as you puke.

Very hesitantly buys you the belly pillow for pregnant women, but he knows that he cant be there for you all the time because of his matches. But don't you dare use the pillow when he's around. He gets jealous.

Loves, LOVES taking baths with you. He settles you in the bathtub very gently, before taking his place behind you, his strong muscular thighs trapping you. He carefully washes you, humming in content as you lean back against his chest and cup the soapy, scented water over your belly, the bump glistening.

Big, protective himbo will be doing as many house chores as he can, you just need to cook him some food and rest. I can just see him sneaking up on you and pulling you to him or into his lap, kissing your earlobe, while his big, warm hands rub your belly, whispering in your ear how beautiful you look and how he lucky he is to have you.

So happy he baby trapped you💖

God, I love them all so much. Now, this is just like off the top of my head, but I wouldn't mind going in details if someone were to ask for one of my babies *coughs* Bakugo and Todo Clan *coughs* also *coughs* love Ushijima *coughs*

[wri0thesley]

nat something about toji drives me absolutely feral, can i have a scenario or something where he meets reader at a bar and they have a steamy one night stand i don’t know i just want this beeg beefy dilf to absolutely ruin my puthy (fem reader please!)

anon, i really hope you have a corruption kink

Favourite (So Far) - Toji x Fem!Reader (5k)

Toji sees you sitting alone at a bar; all quiet and soft and unsure, and absolutely begging to be ruined - and he decides he can help with that.

warnings: afab reader, fem pronouns. not sfw, mentions of murder. corruption kink, virgin reader, dacryphilia, fingering, coming inside, dirty talk. 

Toji normally doesn’t bother lingering after he’s held up his end of the bargain, but the money is burning a hole in his pocket and the minute he’d left the body of the man he’d been hired to kill locked in the back office of the bar, he’d remembered you.

He estimates he’s got a good half an hour before anyone realises the man is dead. If they’d wanted him to clear up after himself, they should have written it in the contract – still, with how awkward you’d looked and how your eyes kept darting about the place, Toji is pretty sure he’ll have you away from the bar and with his arm around your waist in . . . ooh, ten minutes? Fifteen, at a push.

He knows your type.

You’re uncomfortable, watching your friends go off and flirt and dance – pulling at your skirt (you’re uncomfortable in that, too), tugging your thin shirt up to cover your chest, ordering something non-alcoholic and looking morosely at it. Your eyes avoiding when men try and catch your gaze, your posture tensing – he’s pretty certain that you do not want to be here, and Toji is going to offer you an alternative that he thinks you might prefer.

You don’t notice him until he’s right beside you (people never do), leaning in against your ear, one of his arms slapping on the bar beside you, caging you in on your barstool. You start, moving back, blinking your pretty eyes at him in clear surprise, your mouth a soft ‘o’ – ah. Toji can tell you’re the kind of girl who isn’t used to male attention, who doesn’t think that you’re anything special. Shy. Probably untouched-- he’s grinning at you, and he doesn’t miss the little swallow, the flash of interest in your eyes (girls like you always like the idea of getting involved in something a little dangerous)--

“Can I buy you a drink, sweetheart?”

The voice is rough and low and dark, startling you from your reverie. Your friends have all, indeed, long gone – after sighing at you that you’re no fun, that they shouldn’t have asked you to come out with them anyway – you’re surprised by the man it belongs to, all raven hair and piercing green eyes and a scar on his lip that your eyes can’t help but trace the line of – how does somebody end up with a scar like that?

“Oh,” you bluster, feeling embarrassed and unsure by the way he’s looking at you, the easy way he throws out the pet name, the casual authority he’s emanating by how you’ve been caged. “I’m-- I don’t really--”

He chuckles.

“Me neither,” he says. “Lemme get you somethin’ soft, then--”

It would be easier, he thinks, if you had agreed – if you’d been softened a little bit by the buzz of alcohol. Still, he knows that what he gives off is heady enough that you’ll come with him anyway – he doesn’t drink himself, so he’s not exactly going to blame you for wanting to keep your wits about you. Smart thing, for all of how vulnerable you look in a short skirt and high heels and a low-cut top. He’s ordered something for you before you can refute – you can’t deny to yourself that it’s nice. It’s nice to have someone be interested in you. It’s nice, too, that said someone is rugged and six foot something with corded veins and muscle in thick biceps and forearms.

You’re staring at him, and Toji allows it, letting his own gaze crawl across your pretty face, your body, the way the cheap lights of this dive are picking out the shine in your eyes and the gloss of your lipstick.

“What’s a cute little thing like you doin’ on her own somewhere like this?” He asks you, lifting the glass to his lips. You try not to stare at them, though your stomach is twisting. You shrug, awkwardly.

“I got dragged here by some friends,” you say, inclining your head towards the dance-floor, where your friends are very much living up to their earlier assertion that they were going to have a wild time and if you weren’t going to join in, then you could just wallow in your misery.

“Ah,” he raises his eyebrows, eyes briefly brushing over where you’d indicated before returning to you. Something about the way that those eyes are pinning you like a butterfly to a cork board makes you squirm, heat curling in your lower belly. Nobody has ever looked at you like that before. This man is staring at you like he wants to take you apart, and it’s exhilarating. “You not the dancin’ sort, huh?” Another swallow. The bob in his throat is mesmerising. “Can’t blame ya. Pretty thing like you’s probably inundated with attention the minute y’get out there--”

You laugh, softly, heat rising to your cheeks. Toji can’t help but think how cute that is – you’re so obviously unaware of yourself. When he gets you on your back, he knows you’ll have that certain kind of naivety that never fails to get him hard and aching in his pants; wide eyes and bitten lips and breath dying in your throat at the touch of his teeth and hands and cock.

“Nothing like that,” you say, “I just--”

Your eyes catch something. Toji looks too, as you’re interrupted by a pretty girl tottering up to you both in an even shorter skirt and even higher heels. Her eyes linger on Toji, a fraction too long, before she turns to you and pouts and says your name, making you wince. There’s a whining tone to her voice.

She’s complaining that someone’s spilt a drink over her, and Toji sees now that her expensive-looking shirt is stained dark brown. He hadn’t noticed the scent of beer wafting from her because of the overall air of the bar is absolutely saturated in it, but now that she’s right there . . . he wrinkles his nose.

“You have to come home with me, nobody else will,” she tugs on your arm. “And you said you weren’t having fun anyway, so you can always stay there, but I need to change out of this--”

There’s a world-weary quality in your eyes. Something that suggests to Toji that you’re used to being the designated person to take care of your friends, to dropping things to clean up after them – those big eyes and the downturn of your mouth and the softness of your voice all suggest to him that maybe part of the reason you’re so demure, so . . . innocent . . . is because you haven’t had a chance to explore anything else.

Toji drapes a thick arm around your shoulders. You jump at the contact – but almost as if it’s against your will, you nestle into him. Closer to him. A prey animal knows when it’s being protected, after all – even if it doesn’t know, yet, that he’s the predator.

“We’re a bit busy here,” he says, keeping his tone affable with a knife-sharp edge. The girl opens her mouth, as if she’s going to protest – but Toji grins, his eyes darkening, his mouth tilting to show just a little bit too much teeth. He lets himself draw himself up a little taller, so that his breadth and his height and the taut muscles beneath his tight shirt are unarguable. Your friend falters, shoots you a look, and then shrugs.

“F-fine,” she says, “I’ll go on my own--”

She walks away, pouting, storm clouds rising off of her. You’re trembling imperceptibly (adorable) – he thinks this might be the first time you’ve ignored one of your friends. Eager to please little thing, he supposes – the kind of person who wants to be liked and will do almost anything to keep it that way, with big doe eyes and a trembling lip and your chest thrust out unconsciously.

Oh, he will ruin you, and you’ll thank him for it afterwards.

“Sorry if I’m oversteppin’ my boundaries there,” he says to you, and you look at him with your eyes big and wide and wet your lips, his cock giving an answering throb. You breathe very softly;

“N-no, thank you, it’s . . . it’s nice to not have to deal with them, for once--”

Toji leans further into you, his arm not leaving your shoulders – close enough that his breath tickles the shell of your ear, and your brain short-circuits at a handsome older man leaning so close and intimately to you.

“You don’t wanna stay here, though, do ya?” His other hand is suddenly on your leg, calloused fingertips brushing the soft skin of your thigh. Your heart skips a beat, your body reacting – threads of heat sewing themselves into knots between your thighs. “You wanna split?”

His eyes do not stray to the clock behind the bar, but he estimates it’s been about eleven minutes. Longer than he was expecting, but – as you bite your lip and stand up, letting his fingertips drag dangerously close to the part of you between your legs, Toji decides it’s worth it.

His place is nothing special. For a man as well-paid as he is, you’d expect something a little classier, maybe – but for a man with the kind of profession Toji Fushiguro has, he doesn’t spend much time in it. He’s too busy travelling to care about it beyond anything other than a place to crash, eat, and bring home his conquests. And you don’t seem disgusted by it as he pushes you roughly into the room, arm locking around your waist, mouth dipping to taste you – so Toji doesn’t worry about it too much.

You’re still trembling against him, your entire body thrumming with energy that you’re not used to – but that all works to his advantage. It works to the advantage of directing you into his room, until your back hits the bed with a soft ‘whoomph’ of air and Toji is kneeling over you, your eyes big and wide and blown as they look up at him.

You’d been so easy to convince back here. You’d made a couple of quiet whispers about how you shouldn’t, the way that good girls like you do – but his fingers had cupped your cheek and his body had pressed against yours and he’d smiled that dangerous knife-edge smile and you’d been putty in his hands, trembling kneed and so very adaptable as you’d walked beside him with your breath unsteady in your chest at your own daring.

Now, though, with a man’s bed behind you and a man’s cock digging into your stomach where he has you caged underneath him, things are beginning to feel far more real. You take another shuddering breath, not meeting his eyes as you whisper;

“I—I haven’t--”

Oh, fuck. If you knew what those little words did to him – if you could have heard the monster roaring in his chest at how excited he was that he’d not only get to utterly ruin you, but to get to be the first one to do it . . . He’d let himself hope, based on your way of holding yourself all demure and prim, that you’d be a virgin, but to hear it from your own lips with your skin rapidly heating up under the confession.

“That’s alright, sweetheart,” Toji practically coos at you, as his big fingers go to your shirt, tugging it off with expert precision. “I ain’t gonna break you—”

(Well. Not in any way you aren’t going to beg for.)

Breath caught in your throat as your bra is unclipped, the lacy garment dropped onto the floor. His own shirt follows – you can barely stop yourself ogling him, the firm abdominal muscles, the scars across his pectorals. You can tell, based on how many scars he’s bearing, just how dangerous the man above you must be.

The one like a starburst is a bullet scar, you’re pretty sure. The one wrapping around his side is too big to be anything but a knife or a sword – this is a man involved in something dangerous, something shady – and even that isn’t enough to get you to ask him to stop.

Staring down at your newly exposed breasts, Toji can’t resist leaning in; sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, dragging his teeth across the sensitive bud, lapping at it until your back arches and you whimper so prettily that it goes straight through him and straight to his cock. The wet kisses trail back up to your neck, blunt teeth tugging at your skin, sucking quickly stinging bruise marks into the skin so that everybody will know what this cute little virgin was up to last night--

A rough tug to your earlobe makes you moan. A nip to your lower lip makes you practically mewl. And his rough fingertips pushing up your skirt to your waist, letting his fingers dig into your plush thighs so hard that there’s no way you won’t be marked with fingerprints tomorrow – that makes you whine.

“You like bein’ pushed around a little bit, cutie?” The pet name, again, has blood rushing to your face and heat rushing to between your legs. You’re suddenly so very aware of how slick you are, how your underwear is clinging to the folds of your sex. How much of that is his fingers and how much of it is his voice and how much of it is how exposed you are in front of him, you don’t know – but you bite your lip and avert your gaze, and this just seems to spur him on. Both of you know the answer: yes. Yes, you do like being pushed around a little bit--

“These are soaking wet,” he tells you, as the matching lacy underwear to your bra is peeled off of you. He readjusts himself, grabbing your thigh and pressing your knee against your chest so that he can move his hips between your two legs as well as get a proper look at what you’ve been hiding beneath the tiny skirt – he lets out a low whistle, those green eyes greedily drinking you in like you’re a painting hung in an art gallery. “Well, look at you. Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

He sees how the compliment makes you squirm at the same time as it makes your cute little hole, exposed thanks to the stretch of your leg, flutter around nothing. He might break you if he doesn’t prepare you properly; you’re so small, and it’s been a real long time since he bedded a virgin--

One of his fingers drags through your slick with no preamble, brushing your fluttering hole, and the noise catches in your throat – halfway between a whimper and a soft sigh, a noise that does not serve to do anything but make him repeat the motion, gathering your glimmering arousal on the same thick digit. He brings it to his mouth, tongue darting out to taste you.

“Mm, you should taste yourself,” he says to you, eyes glinting. “You’re like honey, sweetheart--” Toji doesn’t wait for you to say yes or no. His finger pushes past your lips, so you’re forced to taste yourself on his fingertips, brushing over your tongue. His eyes focus very deeply on you, like you’re the only thing in his orbit worth paying attention to. “Why don’t you give my finger a suck, darlin’? You’ll want it as wet as you can get it--”

Not that you’re not plenty wet enough. But there’s something so endearing about the feel of your tongue hesitantly licking at him, the shine of your eyes. If he wasn’t hard enough to cut diamonds, he would have you suck his cock first, if only to see those pretty lips wrapped around his shaft and to hear you choke a little bit, to see your makeup go runny and messy and ruined--

“Atta girl,” he says, roughly, pulling his finger out (the trail of drool sends another of those throbs of heat through him). The finger drags over your slit again, parting the plump lips – and then, he’s pushing his finger inside you, your walls pulsing around him. You’re so fucking tight. He knows you weren’t lying about being a virgin – the gasp that dies in your throat, the hand that tangles in his bedsheets, the little lift of your hips to help him along – all of those are things that are entirely sensation responses, not in the least calculated, and Toji loves that.

The finger pumps in and out of you, helped along by your slick, until he can press another alongside it and scissor them gently, stretching out your channel in preparation for what you’re going to take in a matter of minutes. Your teeth keep digging into your bottom lip, as if you’re afraid to make too much of a noise – he chuckles as he brushes your swollen clit with his thumb.

“C’mon,” he growls, “don’t hold out on me. Lemme hear you--”

Oh, you’re so embarrassed – but you’re also, he can tell, the kind of girl who can’t resist an order. You let your mouth relax, drop open – and next time his thumb rubs firmly across your clit, the noise is caught only by the ceiling above you both. He makes some little noise of praise that you can’t fully discern, because now he’s started pulling forth your pleasure he doesn’t want to stop. Three fingers. His thumb, toying with your clit, rubbing firm circles with it as he feels your channel clench and quiver around his fingers. He rubs at the textured spot on your inner walls and you groan, your other hand gripping his forearm, your brow forming sweat. Your hips are circling, needy, in search of more stimulation.

“You gonna come for me, sweetheart?” Toji asks you, his voice like cigarettes and leather. “C’mon. Let me see-- let me feel your pretty cunt clench--”

Something about the dirty words pushes you over the edge and you tumble down a dark hole, fireworks exploding inside of you, stars bursting into being behind your eyelids as pleasure washes over you in great waves. You soak Toji’s fingers, your walls sucking him in deeper and deeper.

Your breath comes in great pants, the aftershocks of your orgasm still gently rippling through you even as Toji pulls his fingers out of you. You look up at the man as he adjusts himself with his other hand, as if in a haze – and as if in a haze, when he roughly pushes those three fingers back into your mouth, you suckle on them with your mind and thoughts all misty. All you can think about is him. That’s what he wanted, anyway – cute little demure virgin, cock drunk even without him fucking you properly – he breaks girls like you on the regular, but you might be one of his favourites.

He tugs down his pants enough to reveal his flushed cock, curving to lay against his stomach, hard and leaking precome from a reddened tip. Your eyes widen (he always loves that moment), as you realise why he took pains to prepare you with his fingers.

“Whaddya think?” He asks you, teasing, wrapping his fist around the shaft. Even his big hands around it do nothing to make it look smaller, and you barely realise that you’re staring until he slaps your thighs with it, streaking his own wetness all over you. “You’ll give a man a complex, sweetheart--”

“I-I don’t have much to compare it to,” you say, desperately, heated and needy even though you literally just came. You want him inside you. You never thought you’d be so easily broken down into wanting to be fucked, but here you are – something primal inside of you is awoken by the size of his cock and the glitter in his eyes and the sculpted muscle, and you want to be desecrated. “Y-you look big--”

He laughs at that. Yeah, you definitely don’t have much to compare it to if that’s your take-away. Still. It’s cute, how you’ve spread your legs a little wider, how you’re not hiding the fact you’re looking at him like he’s some kind of angel who’s finally granted you a taste of the celestial city.

“I feel big too,” he tells you, with a smirk that rattles you to your core. “Wanna find out?”

When you nod, he grins – those big hands take a hold of your thighs, pressing both of your knees to your chest this time. He takes a moment to enjoy you in this position – those wide eyes, the lewd splay of your legs revealing the glimpse of your cunt still tantalisingly shining with the remnants of your orgasm. You squirm under his hungry gaze, exposed – and that does nothing to quell the hunger that seems to be thrumming through Toji, with every clench and wriggle.

“Good,” he tells you, rubbing his cock through the mess you’ve made of yourself, making sure the head nudges your clit and he can see the way you shiver. “You’re bein’ such a good girl for me--”

He catches on your entrance and you let out a keen. With your knees pressed to your chest, you’re unable to get a grip on Toji’s shoulders, and you have to console yourself with fisting the bedsheets beneath you (rumpled even before you’d ended up there).

The position he’s got you in means that you feel every ridge of his cock, every vein, every throb – inch by inch, as he sheaths himself slowly inside you. He can’t help but watch as your jaw goes slack, as your eyes cloud with the feeling of him entering you – as tears bead in the corner of your eyes at the burn and stretch--

Oh, fuck, the tears. He wonders if you feel the way that his cock seems to harden at that, at how pretty you look all glassy-eyed and helpless and trying to take him. He’s maybe two thirds in and almost at the limit of forward motion, but you whimper, letting your head fall back--

“P-please,” you say, “I—I can take it--”

He laughs, low and dangerous. He leans in, brushes his lips over your sweat slicked forehead. His tone is syrupy sweet when he speaks, as he angles his hips just so that he sinks another aching inch into the sweet kiss of your tight cunt.

“Oh, I know you will, sweetheart,” he murmurs, sounding almost like a threat. His eyes flash downwards, to see how tightly you’re clinging to him – how big his cock looks, disappearing into your slick sex. How the glistening ring of your need coats him. Just a bit further – watching himself claim you is almost hypnotic.

He wants to see you on your hands and knees, watch his cock stretch you out that way. He wants to see you gag and choke and drool around his cock, wants to see your small hands wrap around him, wants to have you in every position until you’re so fucked silly you can barely move--

But for now, he hilts inside of you, his balls slapping against your slick skin. His face splits into a smile as his eyes travel back up, to the bulge in your stomach that he knows is from just how big his cock is, to your thighs trembling even with him keeping them prone against you. You’re so cute. The tears have spilled past the rim of your eyelids now, wetting your cheeks – they’re so maddeningly sexy, on your pretty face. He’s not going to last half as long as he wants to, he doesn’t think – not when you’ve been driving him to distraction since the moment he laid eyes on you.

He can barely remember he killed a man less than an hour ago.

That’s old news, unimportant compared to how your walls flutter around him as he pulls out. Unimportant compared to the arch of your back, the rock of your breasts, the great gasps of air.

He’s not a kind man, but he doesn’t go out of his way to be an asshole to his conquests – so he lets you get used to the rolling rhythm of his hips, slowly. He doesn’t piston his hips in and out of you, not at first. He lets the slow drag of his cock on your sensitive inner walls make you shiver, make you gasp and moan and whimper. And only after he’s earned the light hump of your hips against his, searching for the sensation yourself, does he let himself fuck you the way he wants to.

He wants to record the moan-squeak-whimper of surprise as he begins to pump his hips in earnest. It’s a noise he’s heard before, but coming from your pretty mouth it seems all the more potent. His hips jerk into you and out of you, the noise of skin slapping against skin very loud in the bedroom. The slick noises of his cock driving in and out of your tight cunt would be shaming if it didn’t feel so good, if you didn’t get a shock of want every time his body ground against your clit on the inner thrust.

You lose track of time, with the dangerous man you met at the bar bent over you. He mouths greedily at your lips, seeming to treasure every noise you make and swallow it down his throat like a sweet candy – he bites at your neck, at your throat, the grip on your thighs never faltering for a moment. You can do nothing but let yourself be folded in half, and let him fuck you like an animal.

That seems right. He’s rutting into you deep and hungrily, almost feral in his enjoyment of your body. He drops one of your legs suddenly, letting it hit the mattress, readjusting his hips so that one of his hands can dive between you and--

He’s playing with your clit again. The pads of his fingers are rough, and you wonder if he handles a gun like the one that gave him that starburst scar. You wonder how dangerous these fingers are, the ones that were buried inside you and are now coaxing your poor, swollen clit to another orgasm.

“Come on, baby girl,” he growls, pressing harder, making your thighs jump with tension. “Wanna feel you come with my cock buried in that pretty little cunt--”

You whimper, throwing your head to the side and letting a cry out into the pillow like a mewl. Toji would be mad that you’d stifled the cute little noise, if the sight of you submissively showing him your neck (one of your softest parts) hadn’t scratched an itch for dominance inside of him – and if the feel of your body clenching and pulsating around his cock wasn’t currently finally pushing him over the edge, making him judder his hips against you as he shoots rope after rope of his come directly inside of you.

Your shoulders are heaving with the effort of the orgasm that’s still ricocheting through you, your toes curling, your body clenching and soaking Toji’s cock with your orgasm. You don’t even realise he’s come inside of you until he pulls out slightly and you wince at the feel of that same come, his load far too thick and full to not have a bit of it trickling out of your stretched hole. Toji admires the look of it; darkened from his persistent thrusts, your syrupy slick mixing with the thick pearly white of his seed.

“Y-you came inside me,” you say, your voice half-clogged with the tears that are still glistening on your cheeks (a low pulse of heat in his groin. His refractory period has always been short – and with a cute little thing like you in his bed, who can blame him for wanting to fuck you again almost immediately?). “I—I don’t even know your name--”

Oh, shit. He’d quite forgotten. He knows yours from the girl in the bar (that already feels like a lifetime ago). He can hear the uncertainty in your voice, the kind of confusion that seems to say ‘good girls don’t do this, I would never do this, who is this stranger wearing my skin with a man’s come making their thighs sticky?’. It’s part of the process of breaking that Toji loves so much.)

“Sure did, darlin’,” he says, absent-mindedly scooping some of the come that’s oozed out of you and pressing it back inside. He wins a whimper for that, one that’s definitely not ‘stop’. “You’re still so sensitive.”

If you notice he doesn’t give you his name in response to your question, you don’t say anything. As his fingers gently circle your entrance again, as his hand brushes your thigh and you shiver, he sees that you unconsciously spread your legs even further apart for his explorations. Oh, you’re so cute.

One lone finger, gently grazing your clit, makes your hips jerk, your voice break in a way that’s all needy. You look at Toji through those tear-darkened eyes, your lips bitten to puffiness, your lipstick and mascara and eyeliner all messed up on your face from crying and biting your lip and drooling. Adorable. Girls like you always look best like this, their polish scuffed when Toji’s taken them to bed and stripped away all of their defences.

Girls like you, Toji always manages to get to move their hips against his ministrations. He always manages to have them gasp, whimper, break--

You’re not the first one in his bed, and you probably won’t be the last. But as he grins at you and asks;

“Well, sweetheart. I’ll give you a choice. Y’wanna take a shower and I’ll call you a cab or somethin’ and you can head off home? Or,” he drops his voice low, drags his eyes over your prone form, brushes his lips over your stomach. They flutter against the soft skin, his breath a hot wash that makes goose flesh prickle all over you. “Y’wanna spend the night?”

And you bite your lip before nodding, nervously running your hand through his hair, your body near trembling with need--

Well. As he asks that and you answer, he really does think you might be his favourite one ever.

[amberdablade]

❤💙🖤~EggpireYan!BBH x F!Reader~ 🖤💙❤

Guess who's finally back!!! I apologize for not updating :P I'm not going to make stupid excuses for my absence or anything since it doesn't matter and I know none of you want to hear it, but I will say that I did get Covid :P So that's kinda why things didn't go as planned when it came to updating on a Monday Lol. Anyways, enjoy your amazing (sorta cheesy I feel like) Yan!Bad x reader!!!!! (You know who you are person who's been waiting far to long for this ;))

Requested by: A person who needs some love bc I feel like this request has taken me way too long :|

TW: Stalking, yandere themes, obsessive behavior, and kinda fluffy...? idk not a trigger tho I hope lol.

Bad's POV

       For months now he had kept his eyes on you. He had watched your every movement, every action, every word....

       He wasn't stalking you, he was just making sure you were ok! Anything outside of the Egg's grasp was in danger, including you! A stalker would be a creep or even a maniac, and that wasn't him. He was sweet, forgiving, even merciful when it came to the Egg... You were almost just like him. Just, not the Egg part.

       You were so perfect. Every inch of you was just perfection, including your personality and actions. You could be mad at him or mean to him and he would still find you perfect. You were almost like an angel, no, even better then an angel at that. Sure, he was a demon, but that didn't matter. Not to you at least. You seemed to like him, maybe not as much as he loved you, but at least you liked him. That was all that mattered.

       If only you were apart of the Egg's influence. Then he would be able to socialize with you more and to see your pretty face more often without having to hide himself somewhere; like in a bush. You and him where meant to be, that was clear as day. He just needed to be around you more. He wanted you to be comfortable with him. What's a relationship where one side doesn't love the other? Not one he wants to be apart of, or you for that matter.

       Yes, making you apart of the Egg's influence would be ideal. Very ideal. And the best part is, you would never leave his side!

Y/n's POV

       "Where are we going, Bad? I thought you said you'd tell me by now!" You and Bad had been walking down the Prime Path for what felt like hours. He had contacted you earlier through your Communicator and said that he wanted to take you somewhere amazing as a surprise, and that he knew you'd love it.

       He chuckled, "I'm glad you're so curious to know! Don't worry, I'll tell you when we're there." You sighed.

       "Fine, I guess," you responded. As the two of you continued to walk in whatever direction you were through the warm, mid-day, you slowly reached your hand down to touch his. He jumped in surprise and his face was immediately tinted by red.

       "U-uhhh u-ummmm," he stuttered. You giggled.

       "Sorry, I should've asked permission first," you said. Bad shook his head.

       "U-uh, no no no! It's fine! You can h-hold my hand if you w-want." You nodded and wrapped your hand around his.

Bad's POV

       Bad was sweating. Great XD, he didn't know a girl could make him feel this flustered and nervous! You were just holding his hand!

       He felt your hand in his and smiled. This was just too exciting. As he turned his attention back to his course to the Egg and the rest of the Eggpire, he noticed that you two were almost there.

       "Almost there!" he said to you. You smiled.

       "Good," you said, "my legs are really tired." Bad laughed.

       "We've only been walking for twenty minutes, you Muffinhead!" You sighed.

       "It feels like its been hours," you complained.

       "Don't worry, once we get there you can sit down, I promise." You nodded in response as the two of you kept walking. Before he could walk any further with you, a figure appeared on the path ahead of them. Bad instantly recognized the familiar face in the strong sunlight.

       "Skeppy!" he yelled. Skeppy turned around from looking at.... whatever he was looking at, and smiled.

       "Bad!" he said, "It's good to see you."

Y/n's POV

       You looked over at Skeppy as you let go of Bad's hand. Was Skeppy... ok? You didn't remember his eyes ever being red before, and he was wearing a red hoodie instead of his usual light blue one. And his voice.... it didn't sound right either. It sounded very lacy and slick, like he was planning something horrible. Definitely not like the usual happy and harmless Skeppy you used to know, if this was even still him.

       Skeppy looked down at you (given the fact he was about a few feet taller then you). You never thought his eyes could make you this unsettled.

       "Who did you bring along with you, Bad?" he asked, never keeping his eyes off of you. Bad smiled a cheerful smile, like he was extremely proud to show you off to his friend. Was Skeppy even his friend anymore? It seemed like it. Maybe.

       "This is Y/n! Y/n, this is my friend Skeppy! Oh, wait, I forgot you've already met Skeppy before! Right, Y/n?" Now Bad was looking at you. He seemed more normal than Skeppy, but even he too had that weird glint in his eye that made things seem not right. You had never noticed that before. How long has that been there?

       "Huh? Oh, ya, I have," you snapped back into reality and nervously laughed. Why were you this unsettled? You shouldn't be this unsettled next to your close friend and his close friend. If Skeppy was one of Bad's best friends, then that meant he could be your friend too, right? Well at least he could be trustworthy.

       Right?

       Bad gave you a concerned look.        "Is everything ok, Y/n? You seem to be.... nervous?" Bad asked as he looked at you quizzically. You shook your head and put on a fake smile as Skeppy continued to study you.

       "I'm fine, Bad. I'm not nervous!" You turned to look at Skeppy and shook his hand. This took him by surprise and he immediately ripped his hand away from yours and looked at you with a maddened face.

       "Skeppy!" Bad said, upset. "Why did you do that????" Skeppy finally took his gaze away from you and looked at Bad.

       "Sorry, she just took me by surprise that's all," he said simply. Bad shrugged.

       "Whatever."

       "So, where are you two off to, hmm?" Skeppy asked. Bad smiled again and winked at Skeppy. "Oh, I see. Are you sure.... this thing can appease it?" Bad slapped Skeppy in the face.

       "SKEPPY, THAT WAS SO RUDE!!!!!" he yelled. You were surprised at how fast the situation escalated. Skeppy scoffed.

       "Apologies," he said as he rolled his eyes and rubbed the spot where Bad hit him, "do you think Y/n will be able to appease the Egg?" Bad glared at Skeppy as you gasped.

       "W-what the Egg????" you were immediately startled. You didn't want to believe it but it did make sense.

       Bad....working for the Egg. And Skeppy too? It didn't seem possible, two sweet people working for something so evil, but it made sense. It explained why all of the blue on Skeppy had turned red, and some of the red on Bad had turned white. You where going to ask him about that earlier, but it slipped your mind until now.

       Bad shook his head and nervously smiled. "Uh, no no, now, Y/n, it's not what you think uh ha," he nervously laughed. You took two big steps away from the two.

       "Bad, why d-didn't you tell me? And you can't tell me it's a lie, I'm not that stupid!" you said. Bad sighed.

       "Listen, Y/n, the Egg isn't what you think it is. It's nice! It's peaceful and it only wants the best for you and me! Especially you and me." You did not like his tone at all.

       "W-what do you mean by 'especially you and me?'" you asked. Bad calmly placed his hand on your shoulder. You didn't bother to flinch away because you knew he would just touch you again.

       "I asked the Egg if there was a way I could be with you," he started. "It promised me that if I brought you to it and made you apart of its influence, you and I could be together... forever. I-I love you, Y/n. I only want the best for you, I p-promise." You looked at him, completely stunned. You were so surprised, that your body was unresponsive.

       He loved you? You? Of all people?

       It almost seemed to good to be true. After all, you loved him too.

       "R-really?" you asked, barely able to get the words out. He nodded, and you knew by the look in his eyes that he wasn't lying.

       "I promise, you, muffinhead." You chuckled at his common term he used for you and smiled. You didn't really care now about the Egg or getting corrupted by it. It was fine, as long as you were with him. You looked over at Skeppy and saw the boredom across his face, and then at Bad and at the joy on his.

       "Ok, Bad. I'll come with you," you said.~

-----------

Ok I hope that was good, idk seems ok on my end :P

But I hope ya'll enjoyed it anyways! See ya'll in the next chapter!

Word Count: 1,640

[superfics-forone]

Just Friends

SUMMARY: Sam asks the group who they think are the “hottest” members of the team. You don’t make the cute for Bucky’s top five.

Bucky x TALL!Reader

W/C: 5,800

WARNINGS: angst, swearing (like two f bombs), cannon level violence, Bucky being an idiot (it’s a warning), physical insecurities, fake science

A/N: I wrote this because the top 5 situation actually happened to me IRL and when you don’t make someone you like’s list, it sucks. Also, this is in no way meant as being against people who are smaller! I am just a tall/plus size woman and sometimes that really makes you feel like you’re unattractive to people because you don’t fit the gender norm. Let me know what you think! I’m pretty new at this so I’d appreciate the feedback!

Also, HUGE shout out to @princessmisery666 for being so patient and supportive! Thank you for being my beta! Your comments were so incredibly helpful!

The best part about working with Bucky was that you got to see him everyday. The worst part was that you were constantly reminded that he wasn’t attracted to you.

You knew you were a good looking woman, people would often tell you that. It usually happened when you weren’t necessarily feeling your prettiest. Somehow that made it worse. Others would compliment you but he never would. Even when you knew you looked good- like you had put in extra effort and actually tried that day- still he would give you nothing.

You sat across from him in the common room looking at all the other Avengers wondering why he didn’t feel the same when you finally got your answer.

“Alright man,” Sam called out to the group. “Top five, let’s go.”

“Top five?” asked Clint, not sure if he wanted to know the answer. “Top five what?”

Everyone looked back to Sam, - “Top five on who you think is lookin’ most fine”.

“You want us to rate each other?” You asked incredulously.

“Naw, man!” Sam replied. “I want to know who you think are the top five most attractive! Male and female!”

You slunk back into the sofa, both curious and terrified of the conversation to come.

You heard huffs from the others but no one objected. Vision went first and of course he could only answer with; “I believe all of you are inherently lovely. I couldn’t possibly pick a top five of those who I find to be most attractive.” As soon as he finished and the room was no longer focused on him though he leaned over to Wanda and said something in her ear that made her blush.

You brought your cup up to your lips to hide your smile. You loved how happy they were after having been through so much heartbreak.

Sam went next, “Imma say, Wanda, Nat, Gamora’s got it goin’ on…for an alien…Hill - don’t tell her I said that- and…Y/N,” he said throwing you a wink.

You smiled but shook your head with a roll of your eyes. You knew the only reason he said your name was because you were in the room. He was trying to be kind. Men didn’t seem to be actively lining up to be with you…it might have something to do with them being intimidated by you being an Avenger but who could possibly know

“Sam you would think anything with legs that gave you the time of day was hot,” Bucky shot.

The others laughed but Sam shot back, “alright, Tin Man, who’s on your list? Okoye?”

“Yeah for one! I would be dead before I could make a move but sure! She’s dangerous and stunning!” He took a swig of bourbon as if he was done.

“Alright then who else?” Wanda leaned forward winking at you.

You shot her a warning look. You had only told her how you felt about Bucky once on a drunken night after finding out he had gone on date with another recruit. Jealousy had reared its ugly head and she could feel your angst that night. You had asked Wanda how; “A tiny little thing that would barely hold her own in the ring,” could possibly catch his eye. It was as if the only thing he saw you as was an ear to listen to his problems and a soldier he could rely on in the field. You had seen them together multiple times since then and every time it pained you more.

She was everything you weren’t. Barely five foot, two inches tall with a skinny frame to match, and a nicely formed backside. In reality you couldn’t be mad at Bucky. He deserved to be happy. He was your friend and you wanted that for him. You just wanted that particular happiness too.

“Okay, okay!” Bucky’s hands came up in surrender as he finished his drink and leaned back to think, He sat so close to you his left bicep of his folded arms brushed yours with every breath he took.“Okoye? Sure…uh… in no particular order…Wanda, Nat, Darcy, and the little woman, Kris, from reception.”

“It seems, Mr. Barnes”, said Vision, “that you prefer mates who are significantly smaller than you. I do believe that of that group, Wanda is the tallest one.”

“Which isn’t really saying much because I’m only five, six”, she complained.

“The perfect height my dear.” Wanda smiled at that and kissed Vision’s cheek .

You took another long sip of your drink as you registered what had been said. Your stomach soured as you finished the glass. Not so much from the alcohol as from the realization that the man who you had secretly been pinning over didn’t even list you as attractive enough to make his top five.

You felt like you knew why. It was just too much. You weren’t small and dainty like those on his list. You had big bones and a can do attitude. You wouldn’t take crap from people. And because you were so tall you could come off as intimidating…or so some men had told you.

“I’m going to get another drink,” You whispered to no one in particular.

But Sam really couldn’t read a room and he called you out. “No, no! Who’s on your list Y/N?”

“Oh no!” You said dryly. “I’d have to be much drunker for that conversation. For now, I'll keep my opinions to myself.”

You spotted Bucky’s surprised face before you made your way over to the bar. The conversation carried on behind you as you refilled your glass. Thoughts of Bucky’s revelation clouding your mind. You were never going to be good enough for him because you were just too big. Too tall. Too much. He liked the smallest, most petite women in the compound. Feeling your emotions swelling,you decided to grab the bottle and made your way quietly out of the room while the ruckus continued.

Once on your floor you closed the door behind you with a forceful slam, “FRIDAY!! Lock the door and don’t open it for anyone!!”

“Yes, Miss Y/L/N.”

The rest of the night was spent on the floor in your sweats drinking from your bottle of whiskey and feeling sorry for yourself and all the things you couldn’t be because of biology.

You weren’t sure if it was a drunken stupor or your imagination but at one point you could have sworn you heard a knock only for it to go away just as quickly.

…

The next day you had an awful hangover and didn’t get out of bed. Bucky came to your door for your normal morning run.

“Tell him I’m not going, Friday.”

“He would like to know why, Miss.”

“Tell him it’s my time of the month.”

“Your time of the month was last week, Miss.”

“Who’s side are you on, Friday? Just tell him I’m sick.”

“Very well, Miss.”

It was silent for a few moments and you had thought that would be enough to get Bucky off your back for now.

“Mr. Barnes would like to know if you’d like to see Dr. Cho, Miss.”

“Uuuugggghhhh,” you rolled out of bed and marched over, irritated that the one person you didn’t want to see was at your door.Pulling it open with a huff you practically screamed. “What?!?”

“Woah!” Bucky jumped back startled at your disheveled appearance and puffy eyes. “I just want to make sure you’re alright, doll. You didn’t come back last night and you never answered the door when I came to check on you.”

So there was a knock last night.

You couldn’t look him in the eye as your eyes filled with tears again, this time with shame. “I’m fine, Bucky.” You started shutting the door quickly and he stuck his hand on it preventing you from closing it again.

“Y/N…what’s…”

“Bucky, I just need some rest okay?” You cut him off, “I’m fine. I promise I’ll be right as rain tomorrow.” You smiled weakly.

Bucky searched your face as if trying to find what you weren’t telling him in your eyes. But you were an Avenger and you knew how to school your features to show nothing.

Bucky sighed and shook his head, “alright, doll. I’m here if you want to talk about anything.”

“Yes, fine,” you said pushing him out the door. Your eyes had flooded with tears again. You didn’t look up to see Bucky’s hurt and concerned face as you closed the door again and put your back to it.

You held your breath listening for his footsteps to retreat before sinking to the floor and crying.

…

The next day was an all out avoid Bucky day. You weren’t sure you could take the questions and worried looks he was sure to give you. Instead, you decided that what you needed was time away from such temptation. And so, you went in to ask Steve for an overseas long assignment.

“You sure about this one, Y/N. It’s a 9 month solo mission. It’s going to be long and it’s going to be lonely.”

“Yes. I’m sure. I need some time to myself.”

Steve looked at you with understanding and pity. He could see how you felt about Bucky even if he couldn’t get his best friend to see it as well.

“Alright,” he said, “suit up. You leave in 2 hours.”

South Africa wasn’t the worst assignment. It wouldn’t take long for you to get the information you needed. And the separation from Bucky would be good for you.

You finished checking your last weapon and loaded it as well as a pair of throwing knives, a gift from Bucky, into your duffle before looking around your room one more time.

You headed to the door and almost made it out until the picture of you and Bucky on your dresser made you stop. Picking it up you smiled at the memory of the minor league baseball game you’d attended together. You had won tickets and no one else was available that night. When you’d offered the tickets to Bucky you couldn’t believe that he said yes! It was the true start of your friendship, talking about life and how much it had changed for him but also how little it had changed for you. He couldn’t believe it when you started singing all the words to “I’ll never smile again”.

“You think I don’t know music? I’m quite cultured, Mr. Barnes!” You had said with a laugh.

“I never said you weren’t, sweetheart!”

Coming back out of your revelry with a start you put the picture back down on the dresser and turned to the door. You were going to get over this infatuation, even if it killed you. Supposedly time heals all wounds. Well you weren’t sure if there was ever going to be enough time but you could get distance.

…

Hours later Bucky came in to tell you about the relationship problems he was having with the girl from reception. She just didn’t seem to understand him and kept picking fights. You had become his confidant and had saved his relationship once before so would most likely be able to do it again.

He was almost to your room when he noticed your door was ajar. Slowing he moved closer and pushed it in silently. The room was neat and quiet. Your bed folded nicely as though it was always that way.

Bucky knew that you never made your bed until you were right about to get in it. Or unless you were going on a trip.

Checking carefully he started to notice things missing. Your favorite slippers were gone. Your tooth brush and favorite stuffed animal turtle were also missing. All of the things that you felt you had to have with you were gone.

Then he saw the picture frame on the dresser. Picking it up he too smiled at the memory, then frowned. It was still here. You almost always took this with you. Why was it still here but everything else you held of value was gone.

“Friday, where is Y/N?”

“Miss Y/L/N has volunteered for a mission, sir.”

“Where?”

“That information is classified.”

“Okay, when will she be back?”

“That information is classified.”

“Alright, who else went on the mission,” he asked hoping whoever it was would have your back.

“All other Avengers are currently in the compound.”

“So she went by herself?” Bucky fumed.

“That information is classified.”

“Damn robots!”

Bucky stormed out and found Steve in the kitchen.

“Where did you send her, punk!

Steve didn’t even look up from his newspaper, knowing exactly what his best friend was talking about.

“She’ll be fine, Buck. She just needs some time to herself.”

“So send her to Fiji! Not a solo mission!!”

“This is her call Bucky. You’ve got to trust her.”

Bucky spun on his heel and headed to the computer lab. He knew he was being irrational but if no one else was going to look after your well-being then he was going to have to do it himself.

It took him all day but he finally unencrypted the files for your mission. You were to carry out a recon mission in Port Elizabeth on a supposed Hydra base. It was a far cry from Fiji but you wouldn’t be in immediate danger.

Still he came in everyday to check in on your reports and find out how the events in the country were progressing. He had even convinced Torres to help him set up notifications to his phone if something were to go wrong. He had, very nicely, threatened him with knives if he didn’t set up Stark’s satellite to keep an eye on you.

After three weeks he was really starting to miss your company. Every time he went out with Kris from reception he realized that she just wasn’t as interesting as you. They didn’t have the same camaraderie and chemistry as the two of you did.

So when his phone dinged at 2:30am he looked at the notification. It was a satellite image of you on your apartment porch drinking coffee. You seemed at ease and calm at your small table. Your hair down and wearing a long red dress. He went to the live feed of the satellite but when he did you weren’t there.

Bucky refreshed the page again thinking it may be just an error. But his rising heartbeat made him think differently. When the screen came back he noticed the upturned coffee mug and the newspapers on the ground.

Bucky flew from his bed and raced down the hall to the command room. Steve and Tony were already there, still in their pajamas.

“…it’s not as if she has a tracker in her, Stark!”

“Well maybe she should! Maybe we should make it a standard issue! Everyone gets a tracker! Friday! Make a note!”

“Yes sir.” replied the AI.

“Tony, we need to focus on the…”

“Where is she?!” Bucky growled.

Both men turned around in surprise. Steve recovered first, his eyes sympathetic for his friend’s worry. “We’re not sure, Buck. These images were only taken 4 hours ago.” He clicked to zoom in closer, “but we did get this.”

He zoomed all the way into the kitchen window behind where you’d sat drinking coffee, where a face reflected in the glass. Bucky looked on in rage, hands in tight fists, as the image became clearer and Zemo came into focus.

…

You awoke with a start, unaware of your surroundings. You sat on a bed in a bare room with a single one way mirror. A metal chair sat by the wall and you noticed no handle on the door. Trying to piece together what had happened you recalled your last memory.

A beautiful morning, the sun shining on the water, a freshly brewed cup of coffee. You sat in your apartment in Port Elizabeth, a pain in your neck…

“Zemo,” you whispered.

“Ah, you’re awake,” said the speaker above you. “I’m sorry about the dramatics but it was necessary. You’re a very important piece of the puzzle.”

“Let me guess,” you said as you rolled your eyes. “You don’t like the way the world is being saved by the Avengers and you think you could do better.”

“Actually I want something else, мой дорогой. I need you.”

“What?” you cried befuddled. “Why on earth would you need me?”

“Do you know what TX-39 is?”

“Yes, I have an entire codex of arbitrary numbers logged away in my brain,” you retorted.

Zemo didn’t pause at your sarcasm. “TX-39 is the compound used to create nucleotides that bond onto nerve endings. By doing so they suspend brain signals stopping all neuro function and rendering the subject immoble. Something you have experienced first hand. By combining a nanotech inhibitor with this nerve ending your subject’s direct motor function is now open to...suggestions.”

You sat astounded as you registered what he had told you. You looked down at your hands but you didn’t feel different. There was no way something like this could work.

“What better way to get rid of a super soldier than to create your own?” Zemo said. You felt a slight buzz in your spine as you stood up quickly trying to resist. Running to the mirror you pulled back your arm, ready to punch your way out, but an inch from the glass your arm stopped. “Ironic that the Soldat will come to save you, only to be the one who needs to be saved.” With that you felt the electricity in your spine disappear and your body was your own again.

Frustration built within you as you sat back on the bed for a moment processing his statement. Your face became more and more incredulous until finally you burst out laughing. You continued laughing harder and harder at the absurdity of Zemo’s reasoning.

“You think I’m the one he is going to come after,” you laughed. “You think you picked the right mouse for your trap? You’re going to wait a long time if you think he’s going to come and get me.”

During your first few weeks away you had missed Bucky fiercely. Leaving him behind so abruptly had felt like severing a part of yourself, but the last few weeks had been good for you. You had forgotten what it was like to rely on yourself. You had grown into yourself again and had realized how little Bucky had actually cared for you when he never came to find you. He hadn’t so much as picked up the phone after you had left. It was as if you had never existed in the first place.

“Bucky doesn’t care about me,” you said sardonically. “He never has. We are barely even friends.You picked the wrong mouse, Zemo. ”

“We’ll see, дорогой,” and with a click he was gone.

Your brain shifted in and out of the conversation with Zemo. Looking down at your hands, you prayed it wasn’t true. You knew that what had happened at the window was real but you didn’t want to believe it. You had been turned into a weapon to hurt your friends. To hurt Bucky.

Crossing your arms over your chest you laid down on the bed, rolled over to face the wall, and cried.

…

Avengers Compound

“There is a five mile radius around Agent Y/L/N last known location,” said Fury. “Two man teams will sweep the area in a grid formation while the drones scan for energy signatures. Any questions?”

All those around the table sat silent, but nodded confirmation of their understanding of the objective. Fury looked around the room, “This mother fucker took one of ours and I wanna know why. Let’s get going.”

Bucky stood up from the table and made his way out of the room to the Quinjet hangar. Steve pulled on his arm before entering the plane. “I know what’s going through your mind right now Buck, but we are going to get her back”.

Bucky looked at the ground before raising his eyes to his friend. “He knew how to get to me, Steve. He always knows where to hurt me. He couldn’t use you. You’re too difficult to overpower. So he had to pick her. I just,” Bucky wasn’t sure how to finish his thought. Words never came easily to him and he wasn’t sure he could really express what he was feeling. “I just want her safe.”

After you had left Bucky felt hollow inside. He hadn’t realized how much joy you brought to his day with your smiles and jokes. Always knowing what to say, or at least, what he needed to hear. Your departure made him realize he needed you. Boarding the jet Bucky knew that no matter what happened he was going to tell you how he felt.

…

The team had been sweeping through the city for what felt like hours and there still hadn’t been any developments. Walking through another alleyway Bucky scanned the cobblestone streets. He was beginning to lose hope at ever finding you at all when he saw an uneven line in between two buildings.

Pressing his comm link he called out, “Steve, I’ve got something. I’m going to check it out.”

“Bucky, wait for backup. We’ll come to you.”

Feeling along the wall Bucky felt a draft between the cracks. Unholstering the gun at his hip he pushed against the wall feeling it give way.

“I’m going in. Follow my location.”

“Bucky, wait!” Steve called.

Bucky ignored his calls and continued down the dimly lit hall. The walls opened up to a staircase leading down to a command room. The musky scent of decay and scotch filled Bucky’s nostrils.

“Privet, Soldat,” Zemo called from the darkness.

Bucky whirled around to find nothing.

“Have you come for your little mouse?”

Still searching, Bucky said nothing as the sound came from a different corner of the room.

“Have you realized how much you miss her?”

Bucky circled again, coming up to a window.

“I wonder what it is? Is it her sweetness that draws you? Or her willingness to see you for more than the killer you are?”

Bucky frowned. Zemo was playing with him.

“Or have you realized that her fire is what draws you to her? She does have a talented tongue. I’ve seen her put it to good use,” Zemo provoked. “I have enjoyed having her in my company, but it seems you really never appreciated her spirit, did you?”

Bucky continued searching the room as Zemo continued his monologue. Coming up to the computer he saw a paused video feed. It played as soon as he stepped forward.

Bucky saw you in a room, still in your red sundress. Your hair was matted and you had the look in your eye of anger and exasperation. When you spoke, Bucky felt the wind rush out of his lungs.

“Bucky doesn’t care about me,” you said sardonically. “He never has. We are barely even friends.”

“A pity she never saw you care, but I suppose it’s only fair that you tell her now.”

The door beside the window clicked open with a beep. You came out of the cell with a look of wary surprise on your face. “Bucky?”

“Now is your moment, Sergeant Barnes. Why not tell her how you feel before it's too late,” called Zemo.

Bucky holstered his gun and walked toward you. “Y/N? Are you okay? Come on, let's get out of here.”

He grabbed your hand and turned to go but you were rooted to the spot. Your breathing became heavy as you felt the tingling sensation in your spine again.

“Bucky, I need you to leave,” you cried, dread dripping from your voice.

“What? No,sweetheart, come on! I’m not leaving you.”

“Bucky, I…” you started.

“Last chance to declare yourself, Soldat.”

Looking up in anger, Bucky yelled. “Shut up, Zemo. I’m not performing for you-” Bucky’s head turned in surprise as you punched him across the face. “What the hell, Y/N?”

“It wasn’t me!” you cried as you dropped and kicked his legs out from under him.

Bucky rolled over quickly to pick himself up as you followed him swinging punches at his head and kicks to his stomach. Your moves were both erratic and efficient as they landed multiple times. It was all Bucky could do to block your assault and move out of the way.

“This isn’t me!” you cried again between punches. “Zemo is controlling me with nanotech!”

Bucky threw up an arm to block your punch before flipping you around by your arm and pressing you to the wall. He didn’t want to hurt you but he was pretty sure that it wasn’t the most comfortable position.

“It’s okay, Y/N. We’re going to get you out of this.”

Your foot kicked his leg and you pushed yourself over and around his head and away from the wall. Grabbing the knife at his hip as you slipped out of his grip, you threw it into his thigh.

Bucky looked at you in surprise and annoyance. “Sorry!” you winced. Pulling the knife from his leg he tossed it to the floor.

“Look, Y/N. I’m not going anywhere, but try not to kill me, okay?”

“It’s not like I’m doing this on purpose Bucky!” you huffed as you charged at him.

“Well I’m just trying to get you out of the problem you put yourself in!” You had grabbed another knife and went to stab him. Bucky caught the knife and twisted your hand but the knife snagged your dress and tore the skirt as you fought to wrestle it away.

Your eyes flared with anger and the next punch you threw had a little extra heft in it.

“That I put myself in? How about you, Mr. Barge-into-a-room-with-no-back-up!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you liked being saved! Although you’re one to talk! You came on a mission without backup!” Bucky rolled across the computer console out of the way of your next kick, getting agitated at your attitude.

“Because I needed space!” you yelled as you followed him around the computer desk.

“Space? Space from what?” Bucky yelled back, actually throwing a punch that you easily evaded.

“You! You idiot!” it burst out of you as you came up swinging before pushing him to the ground.

Bucky looked up at you with his eyes wide. You had him straddled under your legs. Bucky brought his arms up to block your punches while he tried to talk to you.

“Why would you need space from me? I don’t understand. You left without warning, without saying goodbye! Your mission was classified so I had to hack F.R.I.D.A.Y to even find out where you were!”

Your body was starting to fatigue from the strain of the fight as you continued to land blow after blow. You were fit and well trained but because your body was not your own you were blowing through energy rapidly. Your breaths were coming in short gasps as your chest heaved at each punch. If you kept this up, you weren’t sure how much time you would have before your body gave out entirely.

“Y/N, you left a huge gap! You were my best friend and then you were gone! You wouldn’t even talk to me before you left! You didn’t tell me you were leaving. I couldn’t even call you because the mission was supposed to be classified!”

Maybe it was the fatigue, maybe the hopelessness you felt, but you gave him everything you had left as you pummeled into him. Frustration over your situation, frustration at him, frustration at yourself built up inside you.

“I WILL NOT BE YOUR STAND IN! I will not be second best. I can’t look on anymore as you find someone smaller, cuter, littler to fit perfectly into your life! I deserve to be wanted! I deserve to be desired!” you screamed at the man beneath you as tears streamed down your cheeks.

Bucky finally bucked his hips and flipped you under him, pinning your hands to the ground next to your head.

“Get off of me! Let me go!” you had finally had enough. The damn had broken and your emotions and insecurities raged inside you. Your body pulled and twisted to break free from his grip.

“You do deserve to be desired,” Bucky said calmly as he caged you beneath him. “You are nobody's stand in. You’re perfect just as you are.” He wanted to say more but it was all he could do to keep you pinned under him.

The team burst down into the control room to see you openly weeping and Bucky on top of you.

“Nat, I need you to put an electric burst in my arm.” Bucky said looking up.

“I’m sorry, you what?” asked Nat.

“Just do it!” he said as you fought harder against him.

With a nod from Steve, Nat waved her baton and zapped Bucky’s arm causing both of you to scream in pain. When your body finally stopped seizing, the lack of adrenaline and the pain and fatigue caught up to you and you passed out in Bucky’s arms.

“You want to explain why I just pushed fifty thousand volts through you two?”

“Zemo infected her with some kind of nano tech. She hasn’t been in control this entire time.”

Steve scanned around the room. “Alright team, fan out. See if you can find out where Zemo went. I want teams down here with sat links up in 30 minutes.”

Bucky circled the gears around in his arm to get it up and running again before scooping you carefully off the ground.

“Buck, get her on the next jet out. Dr. Cho and Banner will be waiting for you to get back.”

…

For the second time you woke up in an unfamiliar place, and struggled to get your bearings. You felt like you’d been run over by a pick up truck and tumbled through a dryer.

Feeling slowly returned to your hands as your eyes opened and your vision cleared. You were in one of the medical rooms at the compound you realized.

“Look who decided to wake up,” said a gruff voice.

Turning your head you saw Bucky sitting in the chair beside you. He looked fresh and his eyes twinkled at you.

“Bucky,” you croaked as you tried to sit up.

“Woah there. You just relax. Your body is still trying to catch up from Zemo’s nanites.”

You slumped back down in the bed as Bucky leaned forward to take your hand.

“You had me worried there for a minute, doll. You’ve been sleeping for days. Wasn’t sure when you were going to pull through.”

“You doubt me, Barnes?”

“Not for a second, sweetheart, but I sure as hell missed you.” Bucky smiled, then looked down for a moment as if trying to find the right words. “We need to talk about why you left, Y/N.”

“No, Bucky, I...it doesn’t matter.” You say looking away. “It’s not important.”

“I don’t know, I’d say you thinking you don’t matter to me is pretty important.” You turned to look at him sharply, mouth open in a small gasp. “And I’d also say that you thinking I don’t find you desirable is pretty important too.”

You sat in shock as he spoke, not wanting to break the way you had during your fight.

“Y/N, you are perfect. You knew me before I even knew myself. You light up the whole room just by being in it. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. You are strong, independent, kind, and gentle. You’re like a tall Asgardian goddess. Every inch of you is beautiful. I thought back to the last time we talked...before you left, and I realized why you did. I know why you thought I wasn’t attracted to you. That night, Sam’s list,” he paused as if pained at the memory, “I didn’t add you because...well, because I was so confused at how I was feeling. You were my friend. I didn’t realize till it was too late that I was already falling in love with you. And I most definitely didn’t want to give Sam anymore ammunition.”

You looked up at him sharply when he dropped the L word.

Bucky stood to reposition himself on the edge of your bed. Taking your face in his hands he leans forward until your foreheads barely touch. “I didn’t want to ruin things with you. You were my friend. You were perfect and I thought you deserved better so I ran to find something that was everything you weren’t. You are my perfect fit. You are just right. You are the only person I want. Please tell me you’re mine. Please tell me I haven’t lost you.”

You brought your hand up to rest over his as you let his words wash over you.

He wanted you. He thought you were beautiful. All of you. All of the parts people had told you were too much: your height, your attitude, your independence - he wanted it all.

You did something that you wanted to do for months, you brought your lips up to his softly and gave him a chaste kiss. “I was always yours Bucky,” You pulled his hands down and pushed him away to look into his eyes, “but I won’t be taken for granted anymore. I shouldn’t have to leave for you to want me. I shouldn’t have to be gone for you to realize what you had. I left for a reason. It was to find peace with myself. I realized that I didn’t need your approval. I didn’t need your desire to be whole. I won’t settle for someone who can’t see what’s right in front of them. I know my worth.”

Bucky looked at you sorrowfully as he held onto your fingers, memorizing their shape. “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to make you feel like you weren’t enough.”

“I know, but it happened. I don’t need you to be happy, Bucky...” Bucky hung his head in dejection. “...But I do want you.”

Bucky looked up at you sharply to find your eyes full of love and warmth. You wanted him. Even after all that happened - how he forced you away, how he made you feel like you weren’t good enough, you were still willing to forgive him. You wanted him even with all his faults.

You brought him closer for another kiss and savored the way his lips fell across yours. Breaking away to look up at him you said what you had been holding in for months, “And I love you too.”

Tags: @princessmisery666 @dreamwritesimagines

[sunder-soul]

hii what about Tom Riddle being fucking jealous about reader ?

So I got massively carried away with this one lol, apologies if this isn’t what you were expecting, my imagination went wild!

PART II AVAILABLE! 💖

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.  

Jealousy

Summary: Reader has to tutor an insufferable jock and Tom Riddle starts acting very strangely indeed. Wordcount: 1.8k Content warning: none.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The Great Hall was bright and lively with morning sun and the chatter of students, spoons clinking against bowls and butter spreading on toast.

“What is he doing?” you whisper to Margot sitting next to you at the table.

“I think he’s attempting to show off,” she giggles back.

You were both watching Austin Varrowe, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, obnoxiously demonstrate his Beater swing for a series of very bored looking Ravenclaw girls who weren’t paying him any attention in the slightest.

“Slughorn’s making me tutor that idiot,” you grumble.

“No way,” Margot grins, rounding on you.

“Yup,” you sigh, “can you believe it? Two evenings a week for the rest of the term… I think I’ll brain myself with a cauldron by Friday.”

Margot pats your shoulder sympathetically.

That evening, you reluctantly set off for the dungeons to meet Varrowe with your bag slung over your shoulder, but as you round a corridor you very nearly bowl straight into someone coming the opposite direction.

“Riddle,” you say, surprised, “sorry, didn’t see you there.”

Riddle takes a step back and tidily clasping his hands being his back. “You’re out rather late,” he said smoothly. “And in the dungeons, no less. Are you lost? The library is that way.” He nods back down the corridor.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Riddle was such a know-it-all. “I’m meeting someone, actually,” you say dismissively, checking your watch. “In fact, I better get going or he’ll think I’m standing him up.”

Riddle looks very briefly surprised, and then a cool look of disapproval settles on his fine features. “I don’t suppose I have to remind you that curfew is in two hours,” he says stiffly, “you wouldn’t be intending on breaking that, would you?”

You snort a laugh and step past him. “Thanks for the reminder,” you say sarcastically, “see you later, Riddle.”

You manage to get away before he can say anything else.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Varrowe,” you call, giving your friends a quick wave as you dash to catch up to him in the throng of students making their way to their next class. “Are you free tonight?”

“Oh – right,” Varrowe says, looking dispirited. “Sure. Seven o’clock?”

You nod and lean closer. “Please make sure you actually bring your textbook this time,” you mutter, managing to keep your exasperation off your face. “You do in fact need to read it at least once to pass the class.”

Varrowe grins and reaches out to ruffle your hair. “You’re smart,” he says loudly, “barely understood a thing you said last time.”

“Right,” you say through gritted teeth, trying to tidy your hair. “Well, see you this evening.”

“Sounds good,” Varrowe shrugs, wandering away.

You sigh. Slughorn better appreciate your sacrifice; tutoring Varrowe was the equivalent of torture. You turn on your heel to catch up with your friends, but once again you come face to face with –

“You have got to stop sneaking up on me,” you say dryly, “seriously, Riddle, it’s creepy.”

Riddle’s eyes slide from Varrowe’s retreating form to your face. “Is Varrowe the one you were meeting last week?” he asks smoothly.

The question surprises you. “Yeah, why?” you frown.

“And you’re meeting him again?”

You arch a brow at his decidedly clipped tone. “Yeah but don’t worry, I promise I won’t break curfew, I know that’s of the utmost importance to you –”

“An odd choice,” Riddle interrupts, something uncharacteristically irate in his voice, “Varrowe.”

You stare at him. “…Is he?” you ask pointedly, unable to think of anyone more in need of tutoring. Only yesterday Varrowe had lost his phial of Flobberworm mucus and had asked Slughorn if he could just use some of his own instead. “I think he’s the perfect choice.”

Riddle’s eyes flash. “I should be going,” he says curtly, “see you in class.” He gives you a single, stiff nod and leaves without another glance.

You blink after him, shaking your head in confusion. Riddle was acting very, very strangely.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“So if you overboil it, it’ll turns green,” Varrowe said slowly, peering at the notes on Veritaserum on the desk between you, “but if you underboil it, it’ll get those weird lumps?”

“Yes,” you say with great relief.

“Is it better to overboil it or underboil it?”

You immediately regret having felt relieved. “It’s better to do neither,” you say flatly.

Varrowe heave a great sigh and carelessly leans back in his chair. “I’m too tired for this,” he complains. “Did I mention that we had an extra Quidditch practice this morning?”

He had. Six times.

You slide your things into your bag and stand. “You’re right, it’s late,” you mutter, “we can pick this up again on Monday.”

Varrowe gleefully stands too and is out the door of the Potions classroom in a heartbeat. “Are you coming to the game next weekend?” he asks you in the corridor outside, unsubtly flexing his shoulder muscles as he pretends to roll them out.

You very nearly roll your eyes. “Sure, I’ll be there.”

“Excellent,” he grins, “I’ve been working on this tag-team move with Procker that’ll really have Slytherin guessing, I’ll have to show you later –”

“Varrowe.”

The voice is crisp and cool, and it doesn’t take a genius to guess who it is.

“Riddle,” Varrowe says, looking disgruntled. “Why are you here?”

“I’m a prefect, if you recall,” Riddle says in a glacial tone, “patrols are part of my responsibilities.”

“How very fortunate indeed that you were patrolling this exact corridor at this exact time,” you say with a hint of sarcasm. “Merlin, imagine if we’d forgotten about curfew.”

Riddle’s dark eyes flash to you, and you impassively hold his gaze. “You should return to your common rooms,” he says delicately, “or I will be forced to give you both detentions.”

“Steady on Riddle,” Varrowe grins, “we’ve got half an hour yet, give us a second to say goodbye.”

Riddle wrenches his eyes off you and fixes Varrowe with a very cold look. “You will go at once,” he says in a dangerously soft tone, “do you understand?”

Varrowe bristles, standing taller and pushing his chest out in a way he clearly thinks is intimidating. Riddle looks utterly unfazed.

Sensing trouble on the horizon, you grab Varrowe’s sleeve and tug him back. “Come on, Varrowe,” you say quickly, “let’s go. You’ve got practice in the morning, right?”

Varrowe glares at Riddle who was yet to move an inch, his expression still cool and blank. “Right,” Varrowe growls, “yeah, let’s go.”

Varrowe turns and stalks off, not noticing that you don’t follow. Instead, you round on Riddle.

“Will you explain what the hell is going on?” you whisper angrily.

“Watch your tongue,” Riddle says sharply.

You glower at him. “So sorry – I mean, will you please explain what the hell is going on?”

His eyes narrow. “It would not be wise to antagonise me,” he says icily.

“Would it not?” you breathe, stepping closer. “What are you going to do, dock me points? Give me detention?”

Riddle’s eyes are dark and hostile, and something works in his jaw as he glares back at you.

“Back off, Riddle,” you snap, “I don’t know what your problem is with me, but seriously, drop it.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he breathes.

“Oh? You always threaten people with detention when they’ve done nothing wrong? I’m sure Slughorn will be overjoyed to hear that his favourite prefect is abusing his power like that,” you hiss, leaning closer.

Riddle visibly grits his teeth with fury on his face. A tense silence falls, and you suddenly realise that the two of you are standing far, far too closely together.

You step back at once, trying to ignore the strange feeling that swells in your stomach. “Goodnight, Riddle,” you mutter, turning to hurry away.

“Why Varrowe?” he says sharply, stopping you in your tracks.

You look over your shoulder at him. Riddle’s hair looks even blacker in the dark corridor, his burning eyes on yours, the flickering light from the torch on the wall beside him throwing shadows down his cheekbones. “What?” you frown. Now was definitely not the time to get distracted by Riddle’s good looks.

“Why Varrowe?” Riddle repeats stiffly. “He’s a simpleton.”

You blink. “Exactly,” you say slowly.

Something hostile flickers on Riddle’s face before he quickly tempers his expression back into composure. “I appear to have misjudged you,” he says coldly, looking away.

“What are you talking about?” you exclaim in exasperation. “Do you not understand how tutoring works? If he wasn’t absolutely thick I wouldn’t have to waste my evenings explaining to him that Cough Potions are for curing coughs and not inducing them.”

Riddle stares at you. The silence drags on.

You sigh impatiently. “I’m going to bed,” you grumble, turning away again.

“Wait,” he says sharply.

You wheel around, annoyed. “What?”

But your frustration is wiped away in an instant because Riddle is once again much too close. So close, in fact, that you can see the shadows his eyelashes are casting down his cheeks and the heat in his eyes as he looks down at you.

“You’re tutoring him?” he asks quietly.

You nod silently, your throat suddenly thick with nerves.

“That’s why you were meeting him.”

You nod again, unable to look away from him.

Riddle hums contemplatively, his expression smooth as his dark eyes roam your face. “Good,” he murmurs.

“Good?” you whisper.

Riddle’s lips curve into a small smirk, his head tilting slightly, and you absolutely do not blush at the sight. “Weren’t you going to bed?” he asks silkily.

“Worried about me breaking curfew, are you?” you say with a flicker of a taunt, trying to ignore your heart pounding quickly in your chest.

Riddle’s smirk grows. “I told you not to antagonise me,” he says smoothly as he steps in even closer, so close that his robes graze against your arms and you can feel warmth radiating from him as he looms over you.

“I don’t know,” you whisper, “seems to be going pretty well for me so far.”

Riddle’s eyes flick between yours, and for a single burning moment the tension is so thick that you can hear your pulse thrumming in your ears, your gaze dropping to his full lips and seeing his do the same to yours – and then just like that, Riddle steps away.

“Goodnight,” he says evenly, “I trust you can get back to your common room without supervision.”

You nod blankly but Riddle is already turning away and disappearing down the dark corridor, melting into the darkness. You stand there a moment frozen in place, your cheeks burning and your heart still racing as the cold air rushes in where his warmth had been brushing up against your skin.

Riddle was acting very, very strangely indeed.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

PART II AVAILABLE! 💖

[bokukawas]

two sides of the same coin

pairing; Itadori Yuuji x Reader (x Sukuna, at least kinda/implied)

warnings; i didn’t proofread this at all lol

a/n; woke up this morning with this imagine in mind so naturally i had to get it out of my head

summary;  cuddle time with your boyfriend makes the monster come out... only he doesn’t seem that scary to you / seriously this is just a little something, don’t expect much of this

word count; 1,9k

Your boyfriend, Itadori Yuuji, leans heavily against you as soon as you open the door to him. Pressing his face into the crook of your neck and moaning dramatically as he puts his arms around you to squish you against his broad chest and puts even more of his weight on you. Snorting you stumble a step back, arms reaching around him to steady both of you, with little succes as you keep stumbling back because he was a beefy guy and you had trouble keeping him upright. 

“Yuuji, what are you doing, you’re heavy” you huff as you stagger another step backwards, his face never leaving your neck as he sighs again.

“’m tired.” Came his nuzzled answer against your collar, leaving goosebumps in his wake as his hot breath tickles over your exposed skin.

“I can tell. C’mon then, I have dinner ready for you.”

You maneuver your boyfriend to your shared kitchen and sit him down on a chair so you have your hands free to get his food ready. He watches you with big tired eyes the whole time, exhaustion making them droop and close from time to time, seemingly without him even noticing it. He looked cute, as usual, a little disheveled, but still utterly cute and a warm feeling spread in your chest again as you watched him slowly stuff his face with what you prepared for him, munching happily, but slowly. Another indicator at how exhausted he must be, you thought to yourself. Usually the food would be gone in little to no time.

“Can we watch a movie now? I want to cuddle.” Your simple approving hum was answer enough for him. Instead of waiting for you to clean up, he wraps his arms around your middle as soon as you were close enough to him and carries you to the living room as if you would weight nothing. Well his inhuman strength sure came in handy sometimes.

Gently putting you down on the couch, he hands you the tv remote, before flopping down on you entirely, arms going around your hips as he snuggles his face into your lap. Another sigh leaves his lips, this time sounding very content as you tenderly run your fingers through his hair. You chuckle.

“You don’t even want to watch a film, you just want to be cuddled, am I right?”

“No, but you can choose the movie.”

“Liar. You don’t even have your eyes open.” You laugh as you poke his cheek. “Such a big baby.”

“Mhh don’t stop.” He grumbles when he couldn’t feel your fingers comb through his hair anymore.

Absentmindedly you just put on a random documentary on Netflix, focus never leaving your boyfriends face. Or what you could see of it anyways, as he had it mushed against your thighs.

“Hard mission today? Want to talk about it?” you ask as you continue to run your fingers through his pinkish hair, grazing your nails along his neck exactly how he likes it.

A first approving hum and another declining hum vibrate against your legs and you smile fondly down at him. It has been a long time since he last came home this exhausted. At times like this, you were actually happy that he had the king of curses residing inside of him. Sukuna surely would intervene when it got dangerous enough, making sure Yuuji, and therefore he himself would survive.  

Continuing to gently caress your boyfriend, you start thinking again. It has been some time now since Yuuji had last lost control and let Sukuna emerge. It also usually happens when he was as exhausted as he currently was: when he was letting his guard down.

And sure enough, as your fingers trail down his neck, scratching at his scalp before slightly massaging his muscles you could see them: faint black lines appearing all over your boyfriends body. They disappear just as quickly when Yuuji moves a little, readjusting his weight on you, making it even easier to access his neck just how he likes it.

Soon enough his breathing evens out again, chest lifting and falling slowly, drooling a little as he drifts off for real this time. Black lines appear again all over him. Smiling, you trace your finger along one of them, noticing the little shudder the man tries to hold back. Humming, you continue to caress your boyfriends face and neck. Your smile only grows as time goes by, so when finally a red eye pops open on your boyfriends’ cheek you snicker.

“Who would’ve thought that the king of curses likes to be babied as well…” you mock, as you gently run your finger below his eye, pulling it quickly away when a mouth appears to snap at it.

The man currently in your lap was not your boyfriend anymore and you knew that. Of course you did. As soon as the markings appeared he was gone, yet you just knew Sukuna wouldn’t hurt you. When this switch had happened the first time without Yuuji noticing, you had freaked out and poked him hardly, which woke him up instantly and made Sukuna disappear in a matter of seconds. He was just as freaked out as you were about it then, so you had kept it a secret that it had happened after that again. And again.

So now, when 3 more red eyes stared up at you as he lifted his head a little you only sigh, but run your hands through his hair nonetheless.

“Rough day for you as well, hm? You’re not very chatty today.”

Sukunas much deeper voice rumbles against your thighs as he rests his head there again and whines. “I think I was the only one having a rough day. The brat nearly got himself killed…again.”

Stopping your ministrations, you fix your eyes on his face and wait for him to elaborate. When he does not, you pull at his hair a little. “Could you please explain how my boyfriend nearly got himself killed…again!?”

“Did I tell you to stop?”

“What?” you ask confused.

He lifts himself up again, giving your hands a pointed look, making you groan. “You’re so demanding.”

“I’m the king of curses, you should do as I say or you’ll die.”

“Oh shut up, you were literally drooling in my lap two minutes ago.”

“I wasn’t, the brat was. I could kill you right now.”

Rolling your eyes you shove your hands back into his hair a little rougher than necessary, pulling on strands of his hair as he still didn’t tell you what happened. “Tell me or I’ll stop again.”

Your leg heats up as he exhales against it slowly and then starts telling you what happened. Yuuji was a decent fighter you knew that, but you also knew that one of his weak points were his friends and loved ones. And today that had proved to be the problem.

“I had to grow back his whole arm,” he complains. “If I hadn’t switched with him he would have bled to death right there.”

Your hands falter again. So it had been really bad today. No wonder he hadn’t wanted to tell you about it. “Hey honey, I nearly died today, how was your day?” Goosebumps raise on your arms as you imagine how the day could have gone if Sukuna had not meddled. Instead of your tired boyfriend coming home to you, a random worker from jujutsu tech, telling you he died. Or even worse, one of his close friends coming to deliver such a horrendous message. You involuntarily shudder.

“Don’t worry, he’s fine.”

Cupping his cheek, you make him look up at you. “Thank you, Sukuna.”

“I only did it to safe myself.”

“That doesn’t mean I appreciate it any less.”

His mouth already pulled into a snarl, ready to give a snarky remark when the lines on his body started rapidly fading again and a droopy Yuuji was looking at you again.

“Sorry sweetie, were you talking to me?” he yawns loudly and squishes his face even more into your lap, snuggling in again. “I’m just so tired.”

Gently running your fingers over his face, you poke him in the cheek. “Let’s go to bed then puppy, you need to rest properly.”

It was obvious that Yuuji didn’t want to move away from his place on top of you, but he also knew you were right. As nice as your fingers in his hair felt, in the end this position would strain his neck and make him even sorer than he already was. So he reluctantly got up and got himself ready for bed, humming happily when he saw that you joined him in the bathroom.

With the toothbrush still dangling from his mouth he asks you what you had been saying earlier. Pondering if you should tell him that you’ve been talking with Sukuna, and not for the first time at that, you decide against it…for now. He would surely freak out again and lose all of his tiredness if you told him now and then he wouldn’t be able to rest. And he so very clearly needed to rest. You could tell him tomorrow morning, you decided. So you tell him you’ve only been rambling along a little.

After brushing his teeth, he leaves you alone to do your evening routine, but not before he discards his shirt and trousers in the laundry basket. He was one of those persons who always ran hot, so he only slept in his boxers. Who needed a blanket or clothes when they could have their girlfriend warm them up, right? That was his motto. You snort when he came back to give you a quick kiss on the cheek, telling you to hurry.

When you came to the bedroom shortly after that, he was already sprawled out in bed, opening his arms for you to lay on top of him, so you do. Resting your face on his chest, snuggling closer so you could press little kisses to the underside of his chin, making him laugh. His comforting smell soon engulfs you and you nuzzle your nose harder against him, silently thanking Sukuna again for saving your boyfriend. In return, you can feel his arms wrap around you even more tightly.

“Yuuji?” you softly whisper. He only hums for you to know he heard you, and gives a little squeeze to encourage you to continue speaking.

Lifting yourself up a little, you press a quick kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

Yuuji pops open an eye at that, pulls you close again and kisses you back, slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, pouring all his love for you into the kiss, instead of just saying ‘i love you’ back.You smile against his lips. “Good night.”

Taking up your position on his chest again, you close your eyes as well, listening to his soft breathing and little snores. Eventually it gets silent again and you feel two more arms wrap around your middle. Now too tired yourself to lift up your head and look at Sukuna, you just press a soft kiss against his chest as well, mumbling a “thank you again, ‘kuna.” Into his chest, before falling asleep yourself.

You miss the fond smile that grazes the curses lips as he beholds you, laying there utterly at peace in his arms and sighs. Maybe he did save that brat not only for his own benefits after all.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Fully Completely 1

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), attempted violence, mutual irritation.

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

Series Synopsis: There’s a new face in Birch and he’s come to haunt your door.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, and Little Bones

Note: I did not plan to get the first part done so soon. I will probably be setting time aside as I write this to also work on some original stuff. When it comes to that, I’d love if y’all might let me know what you think would be a better medium to release it? Kindle, Patreon, etc. I’m really not sure but if it was Patreon it would like be two series running at once with a chapter of each a month + Q&A and maybe some bonus materials? I am a noob at this shit and it wouldn’t be for a while yet.

Anyways, I’m rambling...

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 1: She simply slammed the door

💀💀💀

The garage smelled like oil and snow. The cold air seeped under the closed metal door as you sat on the low stool and affixed the new headlight to the propped up Harley. It was only the start of an impractical rebuild; your brother wanted everything metal replaced with chrome. You thought it was obnoxious but the parts were paid for and you could never complain for money.

You were funded exclusively by the town’s club, your garage not far from The Asp where the members hung out and revved the engines you found yourself looking at more often than you liked. You were good at what you did though and privileged for it. You had the protection of the club without having to devote yourself truly to its bounds.

You checked the wiring and rolled away from the bike to change the station as the radio crackled. The snow kept setting the speaker to static and the noise was driving you mad. You flipped the switch to play the cassette stuck in the drawer, the old stereo beaten up and filthy. Springsteen’s gristled tones filled the shop and you wheeled back to your brother’s ride.

With the storm would no doubt come more work. Your fingerless gloves itched more than they kept you warm. Your fingertips were numb as you touched the frigid metal and the sweat of your palms made the fabric uncomfortable. You were used to it, rather tolerant as your task kept you distracted.

You were interrupted as you bent to look under the tank and get a good look at the exhaust and the rest of the beast’s entrails. You had the new pieces still wrapped and didn’t intend to do it all at once. Jerome could wait for his tacky redesign.

A loud banging came at the metal door and you glanced over in irritation. Anyone in Birch knew to come in the painted door to the left and not hit the large one. You huffed and stood with a groan, your hips sore from the low stool. 

You fixed the front of your fleece-lined denim jacket and pulled the tail of your plaid shirt from inside your jean pocket. You’d been hunched over so long you were all wrinkled. You went past the large door and into the small entryway off the left of the garage and opened it with a tinkle of the rusty old bell above.

You stuck your head out into the gales as the snow continued to fall and squinted at the man in his thin jacket. He stood beside the long luxury car as another man with wild orange hair remained in the driver’s seat and blew into his hands. They were out of place in the small town and you could tell by the way the man scowled at the door that he knew it.

“Hey,” you called to them, “there’s a place down the street. I don’t do walk-ins.”

“Oh, hello, Miss…” he let his voice trail off as he neared and you stared at him rather than provide your name. His accent, his attire, the curl of his lip, it was clear what he thought of you and the bodunk town, “actually I was referred by an acquaintance. One, James Barnes.”

“Bucky?” you furrowed your brow.

“Mm, yes, that one,” he said, “my car will need detailing. We had some difficulties on the motorway.”

“Right,” you tried not to scowl, “well, if he sent you, I guess I can help.”

You left him and the door clattered behind you. He followed a few steps after as you went to the switch and pushed it to raise the wide door of the garage. You waved in the driver of the car and he carefully pulled in beside your brother’s bike. 

He got out and you were surprised by his size, he was taller even then his companion and wider; neither could be described as short. You lowered the door as the thinner man walked along the shelves and the long table along the other side of the garage. The bigger man stood by the car and tucked his hands in his pockets.

“Not much better in here than out there,” the dark-haired man turned back to you, “you have heat in here?”

“You need a better coat,” you said as you rounded the back of the car, “and some boots.”

You glanced pointedly at his leather shoes and bent to reach under the table. You pulled out the space heater and plugged it in as you set on the wood. You cranked it up and smiled at him tritely.

“So, what’s the damage?” you asked as you looked to the other man.

“Headlight, maybe,” he said in a peculiar accent, “some scratches. We had a bit off a run-in.”

You neared and bent to examine the front of the car. You sighed as you tilted your head and clicked your tongue. It was easy enough to beat out the dents and buff out the scratches with a quick refinish. The headlight would need to be replaced and you knew they didn’t carry anything for that model in town. No one there was pretentious enough to drive it.

“If you want the headlight done before you leave town, it’ll take some time to get the replacement,” you warned.

“Oh, and how do you know I’m leaving?” he taunted coyly.

“Well, I know you��re definitely not sticking around,” you scoffed.

“Why wouldn’t I? A quaint place like this, I’m sure there is so much to explore,” he said dryly.

You had no delusions of what Birch was but it wasn’t the part of outsiders to deride the dead end. You stood straight and put your hands on your hips.

“You can go back to your castle, my lord, but you will have to wait out the storm,” you sneered. “Two days for the scratches. If you want to take it back after that and wait for the headlight to arrive, that’s fine with me.”

“Two days for the scratches? Surely you could do it before the morning,” the black-haired man insisted.

“I could but I have other work to do,” you replied, “so you can be patient and take your turn in line after all the hicks who live here.”

You went back to the table and grabbed your phone from where you tossed it earlier. You unlocked it and searched the model of his car and scrolled through the parts list. 

“You’re Bucky’s guest so I’ll send the bill to him?” you asked, “though you do look to be able to afford it yourself.”

“You can invoice him directly,” he assured, “so you’re one of them?”

“One of them?” you repeated as you focused on checking out. The damn internet kept cutting in and out.

“My brother, those men in this town, I never knew a woman--”

“I’m not a biker. My brother is in the club,” you assured him, “so that big blond dope, he’s your brother?”

“Regrettably, yes,” he slithered, “Loki Odinson,” he introduced himself as he rubbed together his hands, the leather gloves doing little to protect his fingers, “my driver is Korg, and you’ve yet to tell me with whom I am trusting my property.”

“Again, there is a shop down the street. Prices aren’t bad,” you finished up your purchase and tucked your phone in your jacket pocket.

He met your eyes as you turned to him and he looked down his nose. You kept on and brushed past him as you went back around the car and sat by your brother’s bike.

“Sorry about the boss,” the other man, Korg, intoned, “he can be a bit--”

“Don’t apologise for me,” Loki snipped, “I needn’t atone to her.”

You rolled your eyes and wheeled around the side of the bike, “if that’s everything, you two can head back out. I’ll let you know when the car’s ready.”

“We might wait for the snow to calm,” Loki suggested.

“I close in an hour, you’re not staying here all night,” you sniffed.

“Trust me, I have no special desire to spend more time with you than necessary,” he retorted, “I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman so volatile as you, dear, and I’ve only just met you. I never expected you people to have very many manners but perhaps what I did presume was too much.”

You bared your teeth but kept at your work. You would worry about kicking him out when you finished the wiring.

“To be fair, had you not spoken first, I might’ve assumed you were a man,” he added.

You paused and glanced down at the open tool box. You weren’t unused to the comments, you weren’t girly in any way but it wasn’t like you were trying to be a man. You wore what was comfortable and in your work, practicality prevailed over aesthetic. Yet, your years of ridicule as a kid made you less tolerant of the comments and those had stopped long ago because you made sure they did.

“Oh, darling, have I upset you?”

“Don’t call me that,” you said as you reached into the toolbox.

“Well, you’ve not given your name and I’d hate call you what I truly think of you--”

The wrench flew from your hand as you stood and spun to him. It barely missed his head and bounced off the wall and plunked onto the table beside the heater. His eyes rounded and the other man looked at him. There was a thick silence as you glared at him.

“If you weren’t a friend of Bucky’s, I wouldn’t’ve missed,” you hissed, “now I will kindly, before I reach for a bigger wrench, ask you to leave.”

He pushed his shoulders back and tilted his head as his lips thinned dangerously. He swallowed and beckoned the other man with two fingers. His cheek twitched as if he would grin and he nodded subtly.

“Well, darling, how amusing you are. These brutes must adore you,” he snarled, “the exterior does indeed say it all.”

You bent and reached for another tool blindly. He blinked and quickly dodged as you flung the next wrench and he followed his henchman to the entryway. Your temper was a match for many men. It kept you safe.

“Barnes did not say his mechanic was a madwoman,” Loki called back as the bell rang.

“What, are you going to tattle on me?” You stormed towards the doorway, “you precious little princess?”

“Princess?” he met you in the doorway as Korg behind him held the door open and the snow blustered in, “I know Barnes will do me no other favours, but do you think he’ll do you any?”

“Get out,” you spat and shoved him, “I don’t need men to take care of me and I have no problem in proving that.”

He bit the inside of his lip in a crooked smirk and winked before he turned away and strutted out into the snow, shielding his face from the wild winds. Korg trailed behind him and the door sprang back into the frame. You crossed your arms and glared at the peeling paint. 

You were tempted to tow his car out and let it weather the storm but you were smarter than that. If he was doing business with Bucky, you would be a fool to get in the way of it. 

💀

The snow dwindled to a lazy dusting, the ground thick and treacherous. That day, you started early and around noon, you headed across the street to the diner for your usual lunch of a club sandwich and black coffee. You didn’t have to order as all the waitresses knew what to expect. You weren’t unfriendly but your association made many standoffish.

You tapped on the lip of your mug with your thumb, fingers hooked through the handle. The sleepy town felt dead in the winter. You were used to the dullness of Birch but tolerance was hardly happiness. It was home, where you’d grown up and you had no certain desire to get out, but you wouldn’t mind a little more than what was expected.

You yawned and gulped down the last of your coffee. It was bitter and left a few grounds on your tongue. You leaned back and grabbed the monthly newsletter from between the salt and pepper shakers. You read through the fun facts which weren’t very fun or even new. They were copy and pasted out Guinness and Reader’s Digest.

You looked up as you sensed someone approach your table but it wasn’t the waitress. The man from the day before slid coolly onto the seat across from you at the booth and smirked over the table. You raised the newsletter again and folded it backwards to read about the weekly knitting circle down at the rec center that was also the library.

“Good afternoon to you too,” Loki said, “it must be fortune I ran into you, I was hoping to inquire after my car--”

“I told you, two days,” you said tersely as you continued onto your horoscope …‘a new force will bring change’... You hated this tripe. You swore, every month they just switched the blurbs under each sign and hit print.

“So be it,” he cleared his throat and you lowered the paper as he shrugged out of his jacket.

“What are you doing? I eat my lunch alone,” you said.

“Well, to be frank, I was pointed here on the promise of some famous cabbage soup,” he explained as he folded his jacket over the seat next to him, “you looked like you needed company.”

“I don’t,” you assured him.

Kimmie came over and set down your sandwich. She greeted Loki and you saw the way she eyed his tailored suit. He stuck out in the town of flannels and denim.

“Hello, sir, can I get you something to drink?” she asked.

“Tea, English breakfast,” he ordered smoothly.

“Oh, sorry, we only have um, um, sorry, peppermint, earl grey, ginger lemon, and green,” she listed off as she tried to remember them all.

“Earl grey,” he sighed, “and a menu.”

“No, no menu,” you insisted, “and you can take his tea to another table.”

“And when we’re through, I’ll take the cheque,” he ignored you and snickered under his breath.

“Kimmie, can I get a to go box?” you asked as you shimmied off the seat and snatched up your coat, “I have to get back to work.” You took out your wallet and counted out the usual amount plus a tip, “thanks.”

“Of course,” she smiled awkwardly and glanced between you and Loki.

She scooped your sandwich back up and scurried away with it. You felt him watching you as you walked away and went to stand by the till as you watched Nora flit into the kitchen. She packed up your food and returned with the box. You took it and headed for the door, ignoring the arrogant out-of-towner on your way.

“Wait,” Kimmie called out your name and you turned back as she held up your keys, “you dropped these.”

You met her halfway and took them from her with a mutter. Again, he was watching you… or still watching you. She spun and promised she’d have his tea shortly.

“Hmm,” he hummed and you head to the door again, “interesting, I never would have put the name to the face.”

You pushed out into the snow and gritted your teeth. You thought of getting the work on his car out of the way quickly so he would leave you alone but your spite made you want to put it off entirely. Whatever. He’d be gone soon enough.

[lexacoolfox]

Obanai and Tengen with a s/o like Peko?

Ok I’ll do my best!

Obanai and Tengen with an S/O like Peko (from danganronpa 2)

Obanai Iguro 🐍

You meet Iguro when you just became a demon slayer. You both bumped into each other while on a mission. He was annoyed that a rookie was there thinking that you would get in the way of his work.

He could have not been more wrong.

You showed incredible talent when a demon appeared. You showed no mercy and not once did you get attacked.

(In danganronpa peko is the ultimate swordswomen.)

After you were finished with attacking you both talked to each other.

You didn’t really show emotion. But you actually enjoyed his company.

During your little conversation. He asked your reason for being a demon slayer and your answer was really shocking.

You were owned by a family that trained you to be a swordsmen/women, but one day a demon attacked the home and you were the only one to escape. Not having anybody else to go to, you became a tool for the demon slayers.

To most that would be pretty depressing to hear. The thing that confused him the most was you used ‘tool’. Because of how you were raise you didn’t see yourself as a human more of tool. After the family had died, you became a tool with no purpose. That terrified you cause what good is a tool without a purpose. So you just found a new purpose. You didn’t care if you lived or died, as long as you were useful.

Obanai didn’t really know how to respond to that, yeah he meets strange people once in a while but he’s never met somebody who they don’t even consider themselves as a person but a tool. It kinda brought a sense of worry from him. Like how far are you willing to go?

That answer was soon answered as both you existed the restaurant and a demon surprised both of you. Obanai was about to get bitten but you used your arm as a shield. When the demon bite down you didn’t hiss in pain or anything of the sort. You just let it bite down and sliced of his head.

When Obanai asked if you were ok, you told him you were fine and not worry. You took out medical supplies to bandage yourself up. He questioned why not just got to the butterfly estate.

“I’m a tool. I work, I don’t cause work for others.”

He admired your bravery and dedication to the cause. But putting yourself through so much and not even going to the butterfly estate. He thought you had a dangerous mind set. He wanted thought it would be a a shame to lose somebody like you in the corps. But there was another reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

He asked you to be his Tsuguko, to which you accepted. You wanted to be the most useful tool possible.

Obanai was a tough teacher, not like you ever complained about it. You just did what he said without fail. He could probably tell you to move a Boulder up a mountain and you would still not complain about it.

He got to know you as you were his Tsugoku, and learned more about you.

You weren’t actually emotionless you just didn’t see the point in showing emotions. To the point to where you even forgotten to smile.

One time he took you to a hashira meeting and Everbody was quite surprised to see that obanai Iguro, the serpent pillar had a Tsugoku, they know how harsh he can be and how just imagining his method of training and how agonizing it could be. One of them asked you if your ok. To which you responded with a yes.

While also being a demon slayer, you became very loyal to Obanai. When you were on a mission with him you do anything he asked.

One time while the two of you were on a mission, you two were fighting a very difficult demon. Obanai almost got his a fatal blow, but you blocked him with your body. Obanai quickly finished it off and took you to the butterfly estate.

Once you woke up, he asked if you were ok. Once you answered yes he then started lecturing you on how reckless that was.

“I’m sorry. But that blow would have ended you in this state. It’s better if I took it, I’m just a tool after all.”

“Don’t say that. Your not just a tool! Your my Tsugoku and a very precious person to me.”

Obanai started blushing and turning away. He haste to admit but you grew on him. He not sure why, but he be a lair if he said he hasn’t fallen for you. Sometime you show a caring side like asking Obanai if he was alright when he seemed stressed.

He actually loved you. The thought of you dying is something that saddens him greatly.

After you healed up he eventually confessed that he loved you, and you actually said you loved him too. Like Ive said before it’s not that you can’t feel emotions you just don’t express them very often.

When it’s just you around Obanai he fine not wearing the bandages around his mouth. You also tend to smile when he was around which made him very happy. He thought you had a wonderful smile.

Obanai is protective of you as you are with him. But he thinks your really hot when your protective of him. Rather that be a demon or a random girl flirting with him.

One time when you were fighting a demon you accidentally cut Obanai’s arm. The wound wasn’t deep luckily but after you both were done you felt really bad and completely useless. Even though it’s not as bad you still have the mindset your a tool. Obanai knew what you were thinking and assured you, that it’s not that big of a deal, that is was an accident, also saying ‘your not a tool. Your a beautiful, amazing person.’

Tengen uzui 💎

Unlike Obanai uzui probably wouldn’t care if you were a new demon slayer. As long as you were strong in someway.

He was surprised by how quite you were and anytime he would start of any kind of conversation like asking ‘what’s your name’ you simply just answer and that’s it.

But you took orders very well and completed them without fail no matter how hard it seemed. Which he kinda liked.

He was more impressed by how well you fought demons. No hesitation, and no holding back. It’s like you were born to be a warrior.

After a fine mission you two would stop somewhere to eat. He would compliment how well you did to which you thank him. He asked you why you wanted to be a demon slayer.

You told him it’s in your blood. Your family would train you ruthlessly, even if you were exhausted, bloody, and crying. They taught you how to be a weapon. Basically a tool for the betterment of humanity. Overtime you accepted that fact that you were merely a tool for the betterment of the human race.

He was honestly shocked and felt a bit of pity for you. He knew family could be rough but not that rough. As you were telling that story it didn’t seem like you cared really, you just had a blank expression on your face, totally unreadable.

As you two were walking thru a district you meet his three wives. You three got along fine, the way they behaved didn’t bother you at all. Even though you didn’t understand why he had three wives, you didn’t really care, you thought ‘it’s his life if he has three wives then he has three wives.’

You also found it quite interesting how they were all ninjas. That explains how the sound pillar one of the loudest pillar can sneak around so quietly.

Even though you were quiet and kinda emotionless in his eyes, he saw great potential in you and kinda enjoyed your company. So he asked for you to be his Tsugoku. To which you accepted

Training in your opinion wasn’t too difficult, your families was much harsher than his. At least he actually would give you a break, he even softly told you to try and do better. While your family would scream it in your face while throwing insults. Uzui even taught you some ninja skills.

Overtime you two grew close. He learned that you do have emotions you just don’t show it. He nervously chuckled when you said you even forgotten how to smile. Until he saw that you were serious. His chuckle turned to dead silence and face showed a look of shock.

The hashira were surprised the way his Tsugoku acted compared to him. While he was loud and outgoing, you were silent and introverted. You didn’t mind talking to them, if they were start up conversation you wouldn’t object to it.

Even thought you were loyal to the demon slayer you were even more loyal to uzui.

To be honest you really liked his personality. You liked that bit of ✨sass✨ he had. You also found it hilarious how often he would use the word flamboyantly. Of course you didn’t show it.

It all came to light one day. Well more night. Uzui allowed you to stay at his estate. One night as he was getting ready to leave but then he heard quite sobs coming from the room you were staying in. He opened your door and saw that you were having a nightmare. He immediately woke you up and you just cried out apologizing saying how you’ll do better, and your just sorry. Until you realize you were at uzui place. You get embarrassed and apologize for bothering him.

“Y/n, you weren’t bothering me. I was already awake.…do you wanna talk about your dream?”

“No. You shouldn’t worry about me…these are my problems to deal with. Not yours I can handle it.”

“Y/n, I know you can handle a lot but I can tell this is something you don’t want to handle by yourself.”

“It’s just…I’ve been getting these dreams more frequently…it might because I’m feeling more and more emotions…and I’m just so scared to go thru what my family put me thru again. It’s also frustrating how I don’t know how to deal with these emotions!”

“Why is frustrating?”

“Cause I don’t know what they mean!”

“Ok how about you tell me about them.”

“No no this isn’t important. Besides you shouldn’t worry about a tool.”

“Y/n listen… right now your not a tool your my Tsugoku and a person. A person with emotions, so just let it out.”

Then you started explaining these new emotions that come around. You said you feel like you can breath without fear, or like a weight is lifted of your chest. You also just want to make a weird movement with your face. You also start feeling a weird fuzzy feelings in your chest. You also said you getting a feeling like butterflies inside your stomach. You also mention how your cheeks will suddenly get more red when thinking about a person.

“But i only get those feeling when it’s related to you.”

Uzui was overjoyed to hear that. He made you happy and you had a crush on him. That exactly what he told you. You knew what happy was but you didn’t know what a crush was, so he explained it. Then I made sense to you. To which then you turn sad.

“What’s wrong?”

“Know that I know these feeling it’s just kinda sad that you don’t feel the same…”

“Now who told I don’t feel the same.”

You were shocked to hear this.

Believe or not he actually loved you. You had such a strong fighting spirit and confidence. Even thought you didn’t show show emotion he loved your company. His wives adored you two, you were their when suma needed comfort or when makio temper was getting a little bit too bad you would calm her down. You got along with Hinatsuru, you were always helping her with whatever you needed she thought you were so kind.

“You already have three wives.”

“So that doesn’t mean I can’t have a fourth wife/first husband. Or do you not want to because it you think it would be weird?”

“No. It wouldn’t be weird for me, I just wasn’t sure how you would feel. But before we decide you should really ask Makio, Suma, Hinatsuru.”

“Actually they once said how they would love you too be the fourth wife/first husband.”

“…”

“So are we a thing now?”

“Yes…?”

“Say it with confidence. Or else I won’t believe you.”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now say it louder.”

“YES!”

“Then it’s official, y/n would you become my fourth wife/first husband.”

“YES!!”

You and uzui and his wives of course couldn’t be happier.

When you got with uzui you started showing just a little bit more emotion, for example just a few weeks into your new relationship. One night you were with uzui and Makio, Suma, Hinatsuru. they were laughing and having a good time. one point during the night, for the first time in like years you smiled and let out a little giggle. After that they were silent for a second then had giant smiles on their faces and yelled “THEY SMILED!”

He and his wives also do their best to convince you your not a tool but a person. A person they care about deeply. It’s definitely going to take awhile but eventually you get out of that mindset.

Once in a while you let uzui pick out your outfits making you match his style. On those days he calls you two ‘the flamboyant duo!’ When out hunting demons.

Once a guy was flirting with you, but uzui was just laughing his head off. Also just mentioning you were sitting right next to him as the man was flirting with you. You just kept a emotionless face and saying “not interested.”

“Ok what’s so funny?!” The man asked

“It’s just hilarious how you think you have a chance with them!”

“Oh yeah and what are you their boyfriend?”

“Husband actually.”

“Yup. Also you don’t stand a chance against me. So find somebody else pal. Causes their no way their choosing you over me.”

The man walked away

“Hey S/o.

“Yeah?”

“I love you!”

“I love you too.”

I don’t know peko’s backstory. Those backstory I wrote I just made up. Also I hope I got her character right. I don’t know to much about her. I mostly read up on her personality. Anyway thank you for reading. Remember request are open still, send them in don’t be shy ☺️. Also I just hit 50 🎉 followers. Thank you to my wonderful followers!