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anobscurename · 4 years ago

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ocean eyes – chris evans

previous part: PART XII — masterlist

concept: chris is hosting a charity event, and asks you to be his date. tensions come to a head in the friendship group when things get out of hand. the slowest of slow burns. part thirteen of many.

pairing: chris evans x reader // platonic!sebastian stan x reader

word count: 5,1k

warnings: tw:blood (reader breaks a glass and accidentally cuts herself), angst

author's note: the quote that is bolded in this part is a direct quote from chadwick boseman. as a south african, he, and his portrayal of the black panther, meant the world to me. i very briefly considered making the gala in this part be held in his honour, but i felt it might be insensitive, especially with everything else effectively overshadowing it. so i just included the quote as a little ode to him. rest well, king.

If scientists were ever to turn their dissecting gaze to the the phenomenon of The Third Wheel, you would be a prime specimen candidate for study.

Because in that week she stayed, your status was relegated to just that: a third wheel.

The tabloids had fun with that, too. You were becoming a national treasure of a meme. You'd even seen yourself on Twitter the other day, the caption reading "my friends vs me" attached to some sneakily taken paparazzi picture of you reading a book under a tree in the park while looking every bit as stone-faced and disinterested while Chris and Lily could barely keep their hands off each other.

In every photo that followed, it was the same. If you wanted to keep someone distracted for hours, ask them to pore over every single newly published photo of Lily and Chris, and try and find a single one where they weren't touching eachother.

They'd come up empty, because it was a waste of time. Overnight, Chrily had become the new celebrity couple of the moment.

And you'd become the patron saint of third wheels everywhere.

It wasn't like you'd forced yourself on the couple, begging to go out with them. If anything, you would've much rather been in Tibet, if not the furthest geographical location away from them and their canoodling.

But the thing about Lily was that she was so damned nice, that whenever you declined their offer, she would insist until you said yes.

The newest picture on your feed, retweeted lovingly by your friends and apparently thirty thousand people worldwide, was of you, mid-eyeroll, mouth stuffed with pizza while Chris and Lily cuddled next to you at the restaurant you had gone to earlier that week for lunch, gazing lovingly into each other's eyes. The caption was the forever classic "mood."

You tried not to groan. It wasn't particularly flattering, and definitely not dignified having so many people watch you endure this.

At least the paps couldn't follow you into the house, because that was where the real magic happened. Many a night you would wait patiently for Chrily to stop whatever it was they were doing on the couch and take it back to the bedroom before you'd sneak into the kitchen, trying to stealthily drown your sorrows in Hagen Dasz.

Because once they'd take it to the bedroom... needless to say, Dodger had become a regular bunk mate of yours, and the bathroom doors remained firmly shut with music blasting on your earphones.

There were different kinds of sadness rejection could leave you with. There was the immobilizing kind, the kind that would leave you bed bound and catatonic, purely unable to move.

And then there was what you were experiencing. The kind that had you dragging yourself out of the house at any possible spare moment, just to not be in close quarters with them, but also to not be alone with your thoughts.

So that was why, when Chris found you, you were outside, sunbathing by the pool, while Dodger pranced through the sprinklers in the large lawn beside you.

"Have you seen this?" Your voice had become somewhat devoid of emotion the past few days. You knew that if you let yourself feel too much, you'd feel it all. And then you'd show your hand. "This is the greatest feeling in the world."

You passed your phone to Chris, who was chuckling at the flatness of the tone in which you had rejoiced. That chuckle morphed into full blown laughter when he saw the meme that you had been looking at earlier.

"Yeah, laugh it up," you mocked. "You're going to have to start paying me more now, you know. I'm famous."

"Would a higher salary buy me a date to tonight's benefit?" Chris asked, still laughing a little when he passed the phone back to you.

"What happened to Lily?"

You knew he wasn't asking you because he'd wanted you there with him. He was asking you because something must've happened to prevent time spent with his precious girlfriend. God, you sounded bitter. Jealousy really did not become you.

"She had to fly back to London last night," he said, forlorn. "Something came up. She said she'd try to make it, but I haven't heard from her yet and it's an eleven hour flight."

You hummed in response, your only indication to having heard him. Your eyes were closed behind your sunglasses, but you could hear the frown in his voice when he continued.

"The dinner is already paid for, and I have a dress waiting for you. I got it for Lily for tonight, but–"

"You know, in some countries, buying a date for the night is called solicitation. And I'm sorry, Chrisopher," you said, finally turning your head to look at him, "but I'm just not that kind of girl."

His last ditch effort to persuade you had your attention. "There will be an open bar."

"You really know how to make a girl swoon."

———————

The dress was waiting for you when you stepped out of the shower. It was laid out on your bed, a rich, deep, violet. Demure, but corseted, with a floor length skirt.

If it was bought to fit Lily... You swallowed thickly, self conscious in your own body for the first time since you'd been in high school.

You were comfortable in your body. So much so, you'd even danced burlesque in front of many an ogling stranger at Chris' dare on your birthday.

But Lily... She was not quite of this world. And once again, jealousy struck in the worst sense: you were drawing comparisons to her and yourself. Which was never healthy.

The dress fit you surprisingly well – but the moment of truth would only come once the zipper was done up. For all your trying, you simply could not reach it long enough to zip it fully by yourself.

You had become accustomed to Chris barging into your room unannounced, so the soft knock at your door had your heart leaping into your throat.

"Are you ready? The car should be arriving in..." There was some shuffling – Chris pulling his suit sleeve back to check his watch. "Ten minutes."

If your heart hadn't already been in your throat, it certainly was now. "Just a minute," you strangled out, a new sense of vigour in your motions as you struggled to reach the zipper.

"You alright in there?" Chris called through the door.

"I'm–" You huffed in exasperation, giving up.

Not waiting for an invitation, in case something was truly wrong – you had a habit of keeping those kinds of things to yourself, even if they tore you apart within – Chris cracked the door, peering in, eyes downcast and averted in case you were in a compromising position. "Can I come in?"

Swallowing your humility, you hummed your admission.

He slipped into your room, eyes still on the ground. His hands slid into his pockets – something you realised he tended to do if he was a little uncomfortable or if he was trying to find the right words to say. Being a man with such a vast vocabulary, he often found himself dumbfounded in your very presence.

"You could at least look at me."

It was intended as a joke, but your voice was cracked and soft, and it sounded so much... more than what you meant.

He slowly pulled his eyes towards your face, taking you in from the floor up. His raking stare landed on your bare back, and, without much of a prompt, he strode over to you, hand already inching towards the zipper.

He felt you tense – he was that close to you.

"May I?" He asked, so gently that you wouldn't have even heard it if the room hadn't been so suddenly still, and if he hadn't been standing so fucking close.

You couldn't speak, tongue thick in your mouth. So you just nodded.

His knuckle grazed up your spine as he zipped the dress, and if he didn't notice the gooseflesh that rose, he certainly did when once the dress was zipped, he absentmindedly smoothed his warm hands over your shoulderblades.

You shuddered under his touch, but found yourself pulling away. You had a habit of doing that, too. Not that it was unwarranted – he simply just wasn't yours to touch.

Slowly, you turned to face him, and the look on his face – followed by a near imperceptible sharp gasp – nearly made your heart explode.

The dress hugged your every curve, complimenting you perfectly. If you let your imagination escape you, you would almost imagine it had been made with the intention of you wearing it, and you alone.

"I'm surprised it fits," you said, only to break the stretch of silence that had gathered.

"Why?" He shrugged, reeling himself in. The moment was gone instantaneously. "It's tailored to you. It's yours."

———————

The gala was a private party, but that didn't stop the press from waiting outside the gates.

Camera flashes blinded you, even behind the tinted windows of the rented town car, and you felt yourself withdrawing from the windows altogether.

Unfortunately, that just brought you closer to Chris, who was seated with you in the back on the plush leather seats.

"Sorry," you mumbled, having pressed yourself into his shoulder.

There was tension in the car – you'd have to be well and truly inept to not notice. It was slowly dawning on you, how unusual this all was. He had a girlfriend, for fuck sakes. What were you doing there with him?

It was almost a relief getting out of the car, the cool night air caressing your skin as you inhaled deeply, steeling yourself. It had become immeasurably stuffy in the backseat, and you were just grateful that the discomfort brewing in the pit of your stomach dissipated with every new fresh breath of air.

The air was misted with ocean spray, and in the distance, you could hear the crashing of waves against rocks, churning sea perfectly mirroring your roiling emotions.

The grecian style manor in which the gala took place sat atop a cliffside, overlooking dark, inky sea. It was almost enough to take your breath away.

A long set of marble stairs led to the open double doors, and just from being their waitress, you knew how celebrities thrilled in making an entrance. And what an entrance it was.

Panting slightly from the climb – especially having done so in heels, and without the assistance of Chris' waiting arm – you stepped into the gilded foyer, guarded by marble Greek statues and busts. A crystal chandelier cast warm light, reflecting off the large pillars that held the roof like Atlas was said to have held the world.

Chris playfully chucked you under your chin to shut your open hanging mouth. Your teeth clattered together and he gave you a knowing smirk. "Has anyone ever told you that you're easy to impress?"

"Then you must be severely unimpressive, Evans," you hissed back before making your way past him and towards the doors leading to he ballroom. Judging by the chatter you could hear inside, this was where the event was being held. Perceiving that you were alone, you turned at the doorway to see Chris watching you leave, brow furrowed in thought.

"Chris?"

He snapped out of it, raising his brows in question. "Yeah?"

"Are you coming?"

"To my own event?" He smirked, striding over to join you. "Of course."

———————

The charity was held in honour of Children in Need and The Children's Trust, two charities Chris worked closely with.

As the host, he had a lot of rounds to make, and you found yourself standing a little off to the side, following him like a shadow, unsure of what to do with yourself.

Your line of charity work was more hands on, having helped rebuild houses and gather supplies following natural disasters. You were primarily a volunteer. But suddenly, to be surrounded by the wealthy benefactors – who you knew you'd never be able to do much without in the world – you were at a loss.

Wealth dripped from women's ears in the form of drooping diamond earrings, their very bodies clad in money, while the men sported it around their wrists and in their suits. You had never felt so plain, so simple in your stature before.

After the fifteenth handshake, you decided to let Chris do what he did best. His natural charisma and charm was already hard at work, and you tried to slip away without him noticing.

You had made it all of two steps when his hand found your wrist, gently pulling you back to him. His voice was low. "Where are you going?"

"Participate in the open bar, see if I can spot any familiar faces..." In all honesty, you were just uncomfortable, and the smile on your face was becoming increasingly fake. You needed a moment to yourself to gather your thoughts, organize them properly.

His other hand had found your waist, a thumb subconsciously running along the velvet coated boning of the corset as he searched your eyes. Conclusive that nothing was outwardly wrong, he let you go.

"Save me the last dance," he said, eyes bright under the golden light.

You smiled tightly. As you departed, you called over your shoulder: "no promises."

———————

The corset was feeling tighter by the passing second.

You were stood at the donations table, where guests could anonymously place their contributions to the charity of their choice. And the numbers people were dropping, casually, like it was nothing...

Of course, you understood that it was everything. These children needed it. But you had wanted to donate something too, and you felt disheartened by the ever climbing amount of money they placed.

It helped to have deep pockets, but yours were shallow. A contribution was a contribution, though, and every cent counted.

Tentatively, you picked up the engraved golden fountain pen that had probably just been discarded by Elon Musk, and shakily scrawled your number down.

A low whistle from behind you nearly made you leap out of your skin. Turning, you shot a burning glare to Sebastian, who had just arrived. He had spotted you, and promptly came over to hover over your shoulder.

"That's quite a sum of money," he commented.

"I'm sorry that not all of us fought a giant grape in the world's highest grossing film of all time, but I'm doing what I can," you growled back.

"Easy, tiger," he said, hands up in surrender. "That's not what I meant."

You had known what he meant, just given the admiration on his face. He was pleasantly surprised and appreciated your effort, even if it didn't even come close to the lowest bid the others had laid.

You supposed you were just irritated – irritated you couldn't do more, that you hadn't done more. That you were at this event that you clearly shouldn't be at. An event that Lily would've shone by Chris' side at.

"I'm sorry," you sighed. Sebastian wasn't deserving of your bark nor bite. You decided a joking remark would ease the tension. "These are meant to be done anonymously, you know."

"Yeah, but everyone drunkenly boasts about it eventually. Especially the older ones," he said, sliding easily past you to place his own money. You didn't look at the number – it felt like it would cheapen the act of charity.

He led you to the bar, where Mackie had struck up a conversation with Scarlett. It was nice to see them all again, familiar faces in a sea of unknowns.

Scarlett stunned in a subdued midnight blue – pantsuit snug on her form in suggestion of a good tailor – her hair falling around her shoulders, lips painted a red reminiscent of her name.

She brightened when she saw you, immediately roping you into a perfume scented hug. "Oh, thank God, save me from him."

You laughed softly into her hair. "I'm sorry, but once he's got his hooks in, there's no letting go."

"You got that right." Anthony pulled you into a hug of his own once Scarlett released you. "How're you doing, girl?"

You waved off his concern as he scanned your face. "I'm fine."

"You having a fun time third wheeling?" Scarlett sipped her cocktail, imprinting a perfect red stain on the rim. There was a sparkle in her eyes, and you just knew.

"Oh no..."

"Oh yes," Anthony chuckled.

"You've all seen it?" Your eyes rested on Sebastian when you asked, who had his elbows propped on the bar, waiting for his drink. He was the only one who hadn't admitted to it yet.

"It's all I can see every time I open any social media," he grinned, nodding to the bartender in thanks when the drink was served. "Congratulations, you're an overnight national treasure."

Anthony raised his glass in toast to you. "To {your name}."

The clink of Scarlett's glass against Anthony's really drove the slow embarrassment creeping across your cheeks. "Not the hero we needed."

"But the hero we deserved," finished Sebastian.

"You rehearsed this, didn't you?" You groaned. You reached for Sebastian's freshly poured drink. "What is that?"

"Bourbon... Why do you–? Hey!"

You had promptly taken the glass from him at the mention of hard liquor and threw it back, embracing the burn the alcohol consumed your throat in.

"That's the spirit," Anthony winked.

Seb was pouting, mournfully staring at the crystal tumbler you had returned to his reaching hand. "I just got that..."

While Sebastian ordered another – and a drink for you specifically, so as to prevent further robbery – Scarlett leaned closer to you. "Where are the first and second wheels anyway? I haven't seen the first, and have yet to meet the second."

"The first is over there," you pointed him out once you'd spotted him in the crowd. "And the second, well... She's–"

And in your surprise, you abruptly cut yourself short. Because gliding through the doors was a woman looking every bit as beautiful as how one would perceive a real life Disney princess, clad in sweeping pale pink chiffon that shimmered with every movement, hair coiled in perfect ringlets and held in place with jeweled flower hairpins. She was breathtaking.

"Well, she just walked in."

———————

You stood in the back garden, the scent of roses mixing with salt spray. Overlooking the sea, you were perched at the edge of the cliff, watching the water smash against the unmoving rocks.

You had endured as much as you possibly could. You watched them dance together, sweeping across the marble floors in perfect harmony. The first time, you'd admit it was beautiful. The second, you were clutching your drink a little tighter. The third dance had you finding solace on the balcony halfway through, picking idly at the rose petals that climbed up the trellis in thorny vines.

It was the speech that made you reach your tipping point.

Guilt swamped you – this was Chris' big moment, and you were guilty that you weren't there to celebrate it with him. As a friend does. As a friend should.

But it was so difficult, seeing him up there, with her by his side. She held herself perfectly, back straight, chin tilted, poised – regal.

Your suspicions were confirmed: Lily was perfectly suited to this world. To this life. She fit in.

And she was funny – interjecting lighthearted commentary into Chris' speech with witty remarks that didn't interrupt him nor detract from the sincerity of his words in the slightest, but sent light bubbling laughter scattering across the crowd, warming them to her presence. And after every comment like that, he would look at her with the softest of smiles, adoration etched on his face. And there were a lot of comments.

They were so perfectly charming together. You had to leave.

Your departure wasn't noticed, and your presence wasn't missed.

You had stopped a passing waiter for a glass of champagne, and made your way back to the balcony. It was there that you noticed the cliff edge, moonlight glinting off the ink spill sea.

Making your way down marble steps, the clicking of your heels signifying your descent, you found solace in the silence the grass granted your footsteps.

The hem of your long skirts dragged across the dew ridden grass, and for a moment, you could imagine that you, yourself, were a princess.

A princess without a prince.

You had no intention of doing anything rash. You just wanted to watch the waves.

And so you did, the repetitive crush of water against stone lulling you into a hypnotic state. It was calming – seeing something so constant in these turbulent times.

But as you so feared, time alone meant time to think. And the past week crashed on you, simultaneous with the dreadful depths below.

All the emotions that had been lurking, had been building up – all the emotions that you hadn't allowed yourself to feel; resentment, pain, jealousy, and above it all, heartaching love – began to bubble up in your throat, and from inside you could hear the beginning scatter of applause, and as it crescendoed into a thunder you let loose a gutwrenching scream.

You would have no indication of how far it would travel, that mournful wail of yours.

But you screamed, and screamed, your voice hoarse.

You screamed until you felt tears in your eyes.

You heard, faintly, a glass shatter, and you felt a sharp sting that almost immediately numbed itself, and still you screamed, until your throat was raw, and you could taste blood on your tongue.

Exhausted, you dropped to your knees. And still, inside, the applause continued, unconcerned with your traumas.

Breathing heavily, you came back to yourself. And when you did, pain flooded you.

Not emotional, no, that had already been carried away on the night air – leaving you numb in your bones.

But a searing, stinging pain in your hand.

In the darkness of the night, the blood looked black, rivalling the black sea. You had broken the glass in your hand with the fury of your cry, and when you turned to inspect it, little shards of glass were still seen to be peering through before being consumed by the champagne mixed gore.

"FUCK!" The word was drawn out in a wrenching croaked sob, and you held your hand before you, ripped out of your complacency with sheer agony.

You don't know how long you sat there, just staring at your hand, watching the blood trickle. All you knew was that you were shivering by the time Scarlett found you, crimson staining your dress – turning the violet to black. The smell of metal was heavy on the air, mingled with champagne and sea.

"{Your name?}" Scarlett called to you. Her muted steps were signalled by the rustling of grass as she drew closer. "{Your name}, are you..."

And then she saw your face. And then your hand. And she was sprinting to you, panic in her eyes, careless of her heels.

"Jesus fucking Christ, {your name}, are you okay? Holy shit, fuck, hold on, let's just get you–ANTHONY!"

She had landed on her knees beside you, cradling your hand as a slew of profanities left her lips before ultimately calling for assistance.

Anthony came running. "What? What is it?!" A sharp intake of breath. "What the fuck happened?"

You barely registered Anthony's suit jacket being wrapped around your shoulders. The shock had rendered you catatonic. "It was an accident," you said dumbly.

"Help me get her up, we need to get her some medical attention."

Scarlett did as instructed, their otherwise warm hands perceiving to your icy skin as scorching. When you stood, you noticed your knees were soaked through from dew, mud clinging to the now ruined dress. You felt sorrow, but that was quickly consumed by vacancy. You weren't sure what you preferred – feeling everything or nothing at all.

Anthony had his arm around your shoulder, Scarlett holding you up by the elbow of the arm that was uninjured as they guided you back inside, careful with their steps. It was a snail's pace, your legs barely working and them having to compensate for it.

"What happened?" The question on everyone's minds left Sebastian's lips.

"We don't know, we just found her like this," Anthony said. So often quick with a joke and smile, Anthony was grave in his delivery now. "Take her to a hospital, get her hand fixed up, get her home."

Sebastian nodded, sliding Anthony's blazer off of you to return it to its owner before replacing it with his own. He took you under his arm in a protective embrace. You were keeping to the edges of the party, not wanting to draw any attention. You kept your head ducked, just watching more and more blood pool in your cupped hand, watching, waiting for it to overflow, fascinated by it.

The commotion that began at your slow departure drew you out of your reverie.

Chris – having seen his friends clustered together, air clouding them tense – was stalking to where you all stood.

"What happened?" You heard again, and unfortunately not for the last time. The doctor would ask the same question a little later. "Fuck, {your name}. Let me take you home."

The way your shoulders stiffened was not lost on Anthony.

"I think you've done enough," he said coolly, holding up a hand to halt Chris' advances. "Sebastian is going to take her home, come talk to me when you've figured things out."

Chris was dumbstruck by the sudden change in demeanor. "Anthony–"

"No!" He snapped. "Tonight isn't about you. The Chris I know would've respected that."

"Not here," a strong voice interjected. You all turned to see Lily approaching the small circle that had formed around the unravelling drama. Guilt was thick in your throat. Tonight was in celebration of a fundraiser for children, and you'd single handedly ruined it. "Not tonight. Not here, not now."

She strode over to you, separating Anthony and Chris in the process. They still stared each other down.

She took a hold of your hand, surprisingly tender in direct opposition to the subdued fury in her voice. Concern overtook her as she addressed Sebastian. "You get her to a doctor, and you make sure she gets home safe."

And with one scathing gaze to the guests, the crowd dissipated.

"Lily–" Chris started, but was cut off when that same scathing look was turned on him.

"I don't know what's happening here, but fix it. Anthony is one of your best friends. So is {your name}. Remember that."

At her departure, Anthony summoned Chris outside onto the balcony to continue the conversation privately.

"I know how much she means to you, Chris. And I know I make my jokes, have my fun. You know what I think, I've never once tried to hide it. But you need to let her go. You can't have both."

And then Chris Evans – forever stoic – crumbled. His body wracked with sobs and tears fell freely down his face. Anthony pulled Chris to him, allowing his friend to cry into his shoulder. It was a hard thing to watch – a strong man falling apart.

"It just hurts so much," he garbled out, muffled by Anthony's dress shirt.

"I know it does."

A moment passed as Chris dissolved. Then, resolutely, he straightened.

"You're right," Chris breathed in deeply, gathering himself. "It's not about me."

He withdrew from Anthony, wiping the tears away quickly with his palm. And like a storm, the calm that settled was instantaneous. You would've never even known he had broken if not for the red rimming his eyes.

"Here's some great advice from a great man I once knew: you might have one thing in your head, but the things you're doing don't lead you down that road, necessarily. When you're young, you don't want to hear that. You think you can do everything, be all things."

It was cryptic, but the meaning was clear. Chris would have to choose. He couldn't be with Lily and keep you around. Not because he knew how you felt – he certainly didn't – but because of the way he did. You'd been an expert at masking your emotions, so much so that you'd shattered like that champagne flute, so desperately wanting him to be happy in spite of his choice.

"Who said that?" Chris asked, smiling mournfully. He already knew. "Shakespeare?"

"No. A much greater man. I like to keep him close when I can."

———————

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Sebastian finally said. The drive to the hospital was done in sombre silence, and, when you'd returned to his side in the waiting room, he had merely taken you under his arm again to guide you to the car. "But just know that I'm here to talk. If you want to."

"It was an accident," you said simply. And it was. Of that, you were certain. You had just gotten carried away with your release, and unfortunately, the glass was a casualty.

You watched as the lights flew past the window against which your head leaned. Sebastian didn't speak again until you were pulling up the long driveway of Chris' house. Forever Chris' house, never quite yours.

"Okay."

And that was the end of the conversation.

When you entered, Dodger immediately sensed the mood. He pushed his head into your hand, whining softly. His large, brown eyes even asked it. "What happened?"

"Hey, Dodge," you croaked. You wouldn't be surprised if your voice was gone by morning.

Sebastian helped you remove your dress, and turned his back to you while you dressed. You harshly tugged the makeup from your face single handedly with a wipe, your other hand secured in a bandage.

It wasn't until Sebastian had tucked you into bed that you asked him to stay.

You sounded so small, so childlike just then. He stared at you for the longest time, hovering between rejection and acceptance. There must've been something in your expression, a small plea reaching out for him, and he softened, a tender smile on his face.

He was reluctant, you knew that. But you selfishly didn't want to be alone, and he was there.

He kicked his shoes off, removing his tie before sliding into bed beside you.

"Tell me a story."

"I don't know many stories. I know some in Romanian from my childhood, but–"

"Tell me those."

So he did. You didn't understand a single word, but that was fine. You drifted off to sleep, Sebastian's melodic tale guiding you to rest.

And when Chris returned home later that night, he came to check on you – only to find you sleeping peacefully beside another man.

He knew then that he didn't need to make a choice; you'd already made it for him.

#dina writes #chris evans/you #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x you #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans angst #ocean eyes #anthony mackie #sebastian stan #scarlett johansson

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conaionaru · 4 years ago

Text

Woman’s game (Ivar the Boneless/Hvitserk)

The other shoe drops

Synopsis: Ivar leaves and Skuld is in mortal danger

Warnings: violence, slow descent into insanity, angst

The next morning, Skuld woke up early to buy wood ash soap while Ivar got ready for his departure. "Skuld!"

Queen Aslaug stood behind her and stared her down like a predator stalking its prey. "Yes, Your Grace?"

"Let's take a walk." She took the earl's daughter by the hand and led her away from the common folk to the Great Hall's steps. "Tell me what you think you are doing?"

"I am buying wood ash soap. I want to bleach my hair. I am sure it would drive Mother mad when she returns. And I think I would make a pretty blonde." Skuld teased charmingly, trying to ease the tension around them.

Aslaug scoffed and clenched Skuld's hand tighter. To the eyes of the other's, they might have seemed like two bonding women instead of rivals. "That is not what I mean, and you know it. I can see when a person is smarter than they pretend to be. You, for instance, are far more intelligent than you let on."

"Is this about Ivar, My Queen?" She fluttered her eyelashes innocently, a mischievous spark hidden in her eyes.

"Of course, it is." They continued their walk inside, Aslaug sitting down on her throne to seem more powerful. It was just like Ylva scolding her children while sharpening her weapons, a power move. "What are your intentions?"

"I assure you, I mean no harm to Ivar."

"Then why are the thralls walking around town talking of what you two do in bed? Margrethe is buying moon tea for you, and everyone signs your praise. They think him a monster."

"They gossip as women tend to do when bored. I ordered Margrethe to do a task for me; what she did after is not my fault. I am as angry as you are. No one should know what happens in anyone's bed. That is between the lovers themselves."

Aslaug scoffed and leaned closer to seize Skuld up. "So you and Ivar are really lovers... It is not just a rumor?"

Skuld strode up the steps, smiling at Aslaug reassuringly. "I swear I mean no harm to Ivar. He intrigued me with his sharp mind and tongue. I enjoy his company, any form he is willing to offer me. Everything I did was out of curiosity and affection. I can't claim to love him yet, but I care for him and his happiness - his wellbeing."

Kneeling at Aslaug's side, she took her hand in hers and looked up with vulnerable eyes. Whispering the secret, she wanted none to hear. "It is like he bewitched me. I can't sleep without him near, and every time I hear him laugh or see him smile... It's as if I finally found meaning for what I am meant to be."

Aslaug nodded and smiled at her. "That is good; Ivar deserves a nice woman. After what lies Margrethe spread before..."

"If I could do anything to make those rumors stop..."

"Leave that to me. Go along now. You have hair to bleach." She sent her off with a smile. Skuld walked away and sighed in satisfaction. The whole Aslaug is a threat thing was solved easily. Margrethe did as she was bid, thinking she was saving her own skin, only to help Skuld.

When Ivar arrived at the docks to depart, he looked at her strangely. "What happened to your hair?"

"Don't you like my hair, Ivar? Don't you think I am pretty anymore?" She teased; the blush on his cheeks was proof enough of the answer. He liked it but was too prideful to admit it, especially in front of his brothers and father. "I wish you good fortune on your journey. May you come back victorious and well."

"So you will not forget about me while I am away?" The truth was, she would probably sleep with somebody in secret, but he doesn't need to know that. She was a woman with needs, and gods know when he will return.

"Oh Ivar, how could I ever forget a man like you? You gave me many things to remember you by. And when they fade... I will pray for your return day and night." He smirked at the answer and turned to leave, the new crutches making him taller. It was strange to look into his eyes without having to crouch or kneel.

He fell soon after but crawled on, not showing a hint of pain or humiliation. Cripple or not, the man was truly remarkable. When he departed, Skuld pretended to watch him leave like a lovesick girl.

Flocking people at her side wasn't so hard. She complimented the merchants at the stand and bought gifts for people. Smiling at children and helping older people carry things was another approach she used. Within a week, she was loved by the people. Her room was always full of young girls that complimented her and played dress-up with her.

They plaided flowers in their hair and gossiped of the boys they liked. Whenever they asked her of Ivar, she pretended to tear up or just gave them minimal information. How good of a lover he is, how he may seem evil or rude but is very affectionate when alone with her. Some things were true; others were complete lies. After all, she couldn't say that he choked her in bed and she liked it.

They walked through the town, hands full of expensive fabrics to have dresses made from. Giggling with every step, Skuld looked back at the girls behind her and smiled. "Imagine all the fabrics and gold from the new land Bjorn wants to explore. All those pretty things and alcohol they might bring back."

"And all the pretty male thralls!" They laughed out in glee. Skuld looked back in front of her so she won't trip but was met with a shieldmaiden with a strange shield.

"Come with me." The tall brunette ordered, glaring at her with a harsh tone.

"And why would I do that? I don't even know you. Who asks for me?"

"The Queen does."

Skuld looked at the shield and shook her head. "That is not the seal of Ragnar Lothbrok."

"It's Lagertha's!" One of the girls that followed her called out in realization. Before Skuld could process the information, the shieldmaiden snatched her by the arm and dragged her away.

As Skuld was thrown over the woman's shoulder and carried off, she could see people fighting. Lagertha infiltrated the city to take over as Queen. Maybe Gunne was right, and she really needed the dagger after all.

So she pulled in out from her cleavage and slit the shieldmaiden's throat. The dead woman fell to the ground, and Skuld climbed off her to run to safety. Someone grabbed her from behind and tried to wrench the weapon from her hands.

The girl slammed her head against the attacker's face a few times till the grip loosened. She slipped free and stabbed the warrior in the chest. With a grunt, she pulled the dagger out. Someone hit her over the head with a shield, and she hit the floor, groaning. It wasn't enough to knock her out, but enough to make her stop fighting.

They dragged her to an empty house and threw her in like a dirty rag. "Stay here and wait!" Skuld sprung from the ground and glared at them, seething. She ran for the door but was pushed back easily.

"You will pay in blood for this! You and your stupid Queen!" They slammed the door in her face and left her in the darkness.

Skuld marched up and down the hut, cursing under her breath. "They left me here, and now look what happened. I will gouge out her eyes and make her stupid lover watch."

She repeated the last sentence, like a mantra and prayed to the gods for guidance and strength. Walking holes into the floor proved futile, so she sat down with her back against the wall and glaring at the door. "They will probably try to punish me for killing those shieldmaidens. Let them try."

The hut was small, one-room max with no furniture or window, obviously meant as a prison cell. She could feel hay under her ass and the cold bite of winter on her cheeks. Her eyes never left the door, the deafening silence around her suffocating. Twisting the ring on her finger, Skuld stared the door down with determination.

"All this time buttering up Aslaug and Ivar, and in the end, it was Ragnar Lothbrok's ex-wife that got to me. Hjordis would laugh at my foolishness." She chuckled and leaned her head against the cold hardwood. Closing her eyes, she took deep breaths to calm her anger. Lashing out now would do Skuld no good; she needs to save her energy so she can fight back when they open that door.

Her eyes snap open, and she smirks in glee. Pulling herself up on all four and search the ground for something. "Weapooon, where are youu?" Other than a pair of chains in the opposite corner, Skuld found nothing. Even those were useless; strangling someone with them would require her, pulling them closer to the bolts. Too much work and doing that would mean a struggle.

The blonde sighed and leaned her head back against the wall. She let her head fall into her hands and tapped her foot against the floor. The flow of time was hard to keep up with in here. She could be in here for an hour or maybe only half. There was no way to tell. So she tried counting instead.

"One, two, three, four, five..."

Drawing was fun when she was small and the coal from England new, when all she could do was doodle runes and flowers, now when she was thirteen, it wasn't so exciting. But the boys were training in the yard, and she didn't want to be a shieldmaiden.

She liked herself more like this; in her family, everyone was a fighter covered in dirt with bad manners. Despite being an Earl, even her mother didn't spend time on her looks until it was really necessary. So Skuld did her best to look as good as possible.

Mother had no problem buying her anything she wanted, what she wanted that she got. A smile here, a whine there, hug, fake tears, and she had the prettiest dresses within a week. Egil always complained that she was a spoiled little brat, but Skuld was more of a princess. Earl's daughter or not, she was made for royalty and ruling.

All the women told her that she was beautiful and graceful. She deserved to be pampered and complimented. Who else out there was as perfect as her? Beauty was her dagger to wield, less messy than the real thing. A courteous smile and sweet words, and everyone ate out of her hand.

The other girls in Yugar flocked around her like meek little sheep, trying to gain her attention and friendship. You say they look pretty or that you like them, and like naive children, they believe every word. Mother always said it was dangerous to live in a perfect world; it was a nasty place filled with greedy and stupid people. It's your decision on which side you want to be on.

Her brothers were the stupid ones, running after girls, fighting, burping, and farting to make themselves laugh. Their mother, on the other hand, was smart, which meant she was greedy. After all, she was an Earl and ruled the people easily. Skuld was greedy, too; she wanted to hold power as well. So ambition would be her other dagger, this one sharper and more fatal.

"Skuld! Come watch Egil make a fool of himself!" With glee, the girl shot from her spot on her mother's throne and run outside to watch Egil fail at flirting.

"Five hundred and thirty-eighth, five hundred and thirty-nine..."

She sighed and banged her head against the wall once. Daggers... That's what she needed, real daggers to carve out the shieldmaiden's hearts. Beauty and ambition would do her naught now. What would she do? Try to seduce the forty-year-old mother or her loyal lover? Maybe some of her shieldmaidens. Undressing always made people speechless, mostly because they didn't expect it. But women still fared better. It was the man that lost all common sense when their cocks got hard.

Women just crossed their legs, scowled, and talked. That's when sweet-talking came in handy, and by morning they were laying naked beside her. But that wouldn't work on the usurpers. Real weapons would serve better.

Again she hit her head against the wall and watched the ceiling. If there was some light in here, she could at least watch the shadows there. But the room was one huge shadow on itself. All she could see was darkness and her own bright dress and hair.

Her hand throbbed as she picked at the fresh scabs of her bloody knuckles. Skuld had hit the door in her rage as if she could beat it down. It didn't work; all it did was make her angrier and tired. Oh, so tired. She could sleep and hope to wake up in her own bed at home, instead of a small dark cell. The more time passed, the smaller the room seemed to her. With one last bang against the wall, she slumped down to sleep, bored of the world around her.

In her dreams, she was back at home, five or four, sitting in her father's lap as he sat on his high seat, ordering people around. Mother always said he was soft, which made him stupid and unjust. He got swayed easily, but on the battlefield, he was invincible. Well, he used to be. Until he got beheaded in Frankia, he got no burial, the boat they burned was empty, maybe he was in Valhalla, perhaps not.

She could care less, barely remembering his face or voice. Sometimes, in her dreams or memories, Skuld sad his fair hair and a small beard. Othertimes he had no face, just a blank head. She never looked above his neck. Why should she? The sigh of the kneeling people in front of him was prettier. She imagined herself in his place, what she would have done. But never came up with an answer. What was the point anyway?

The dead were dead, and she was alive for now. The past was an anchor tying you to the realm of reality so that you wouldn't get lost in the clouds. But right now, she wanted to fly the highest she had ever been. Far away from all this bullshit. The furthest distance away from this hut that probably had spiders and rats hidden inside. Away from the shrinking walls and haunting darkness. She was Skuld Ylvasdottir. The only daughter of Ylva the Brave, Earl of Yugar, the Lioness.

Skuld was a lion as well, a cub, but a lion nonetheless. She wouldn't beg them to let her out. Instead, she would scream her throat hoarse and spit blood on them if needed. Lions aren't afraid of anything, not the dark or death itself. "When I get out, they will no longer call me a naive child or lion cub. I am a woman, vengeful, and ambitious.

#history vikings #vikings #vikings imagine #original character #original female character #Hvitserk #hvitserk lothbrok #Hvitserk Ragnarsson #hvitserk imagine #hvitserk x oc #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #ivar #ivar x oc

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aestheticseungmean · 4 years ago

Note

Hi can you write a one-shot with 20,64 and 97 ? Thanks and have a nice day

short skirts, emo bands, and maids, oh my!- Jeon Jungkook

Synopsis- You like Yuta, Jungkook loves you, and Yuta loves anime and nothing else. What does it take for Jungkook to make you see that?

4029 words

Warnings: Unconsentual kiss but both parties enjoy it and cussing

Fluff and a bit of angst

A/N: Sorry for taking so long. I really struggled to get motivated to write with everything else going on around me. Also, this was supposed to be Yuta’s story but it drifted into a Jungkook story instead.

⚠️PLEASE NOTICE⚠️: I wanted to leave you guys with one last thing before I went on break. I am officially announcing my hiatus from for a few months. I’ll still be on here reading and liking things but I won’t write.

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“Did you know your skirt is below your fingertips?” You rolled your eyes at your best friend Jungkook. “Thank you, Captain obvious.” He gave you his signature bunny smile, scrunching up his nose in amusement. “The skirt is short on purpose.” “Who are you trying to impress? Yuta?” You stared at your outfit in the mirror which consisted of a black skirt, a pastel pink shirt, fishnet tights, and your favorite pair of converse which were also pink. To say that you thought you looked good was an understatement. You were feeling yourself in this outfit. You felt cute yet sexy. “As a matter of fact, I like this outfit for me, but it may be a tiny bit for Yuta,” you confessed. Jungkook laughed and played with the hem of the blanket on your bed, waiting for you.

Yuta was your crush. He was also your neighbour whom you saw everyday on your way to work. You often waved towards him only to receive a quick glance and nothing more. Occasionally, you’d see him in the game store you worked at, checking out the new selections of games, manga, and animes. Each time, you were too shy to do more than just wave or squeak out a meek ‘hi’. And more often than not, he just ignored you and went about his search, leaving you sighing to yourself and stocking some more Pop Funko figurines. Maybe he just thought you and Jungkook were an item like everyone else did, or maybe he just didn’t want to be friends with you. Either way, at one point you might have well given up. But, you being the simp you are, you didn’t. You kept on trying to be his friend and maybe even more.

“Are you ready? I want to go to this cafe that Jimin told me about. Said it was the best place he ever went.” You were skeptical about anything Jimin suggests, because last time you went to the movie theatre with Jungkook and ended up watching 50 Shades Darker. It probably would’ve been better if you had seen the previous movie, but nevertheless it wasn’t something to watch with your best friend. “I don’t trust Jimin,” you grumbled out, picking up your backpack and keys. “Let’s go before I change my mind. I’m letting you know now that you’re paying.” Jungkook threw up his hands and nodded, following you out to your beat up car. “You have to get this thing replaced.” The passenger door screamed as he opened it. “The store isn’t getting good business so my paycheck has been cut.” You sighed softly as the car started up finally. You really did need a new car, but this is what you can afford right now.

The brightly colored sign to the cafe put you in awe. It could draw one in from a mile away. The inside of the cafe on the other hand made you want to strangle Jimin. Other than the cute, kawaii decorations, you were not impressed with the girls dressed up as maids, serving mainly business men. “Hello!” A young, cheerful girl gracefully made her way to you two while managing to grab two menus and avoiding at least six floating trays. “I’m Sora and I’ll be your server! Just two today?” Jungkook nodded. “Right this way!” How this girl could be so cheery was beyond you, but somehow it did make the experience a little better. You sat down in a pink booth across from Jungkook and ordered drinks. “Here you go. Just wave or ring the bell if you need me. I’ll be back to collect your order in a few.” She clamoured away to get your drinks.

“A maid cafe? Seriously? He’s such a perv.” “I find this kind of fun,” Jungkook smirked, not taking his eyes off of your annoyed face. “Shut up, Jeon.” An older woman casually made her way over to your table, pulling up a chair. “I noticed that you looked annoyed. Are my ladies doing alright?” “Yes ma’am,” you squeaked out, feeling a bit under pressure. “Good. Good. Is this your boyfriend?” You shook your head. “He’s my best friend.” She nodded as she comprehended what you said. “I noticed your outfit is very fitting for you.” “Look, ma’am, may I ask what you are doing?” You weren’t trying to be rude, but it was weird to have a stranger come up to you and inquire about your life. “Come work for me. We need more people like you. The pay starts at $15 an hour and your lunch today is on the house. Here is my business card, call me with your answer.”

The lady slid her business card towards you and returned the chair to the other table before walking off. “I feel like I’m dealing drugs.” “I think it would be cute. I’d come visit you everyday if you worked here,” Jungkook teased, “and I’m sure Jimin would love to see you work here. You know he’s a bitch for people in maid outfits.” You kicked his shin under the table and pocketed the business card. Things will have to get really bad before you subject yourself to this line of work. “Over my dead body,” you huffed, grabbing at the drink the waitress brought earlier. Jungkook, however, grabbed the drink from you and took a sip out of the straw before you could. “Hey-“ you protested but he cut you off. “Ahh. Pepsi?” “Yeah but-“ He smiled and winked. “I know you so well.” “Only because I order that every time I go someplace with Pepsi products.”

The food was exceptional even though you tried to hate it. The service was a 13/10 and you appreciated the way the waitress actually waited until you were done chewing before coming over to check on you. Outside, Jungkook laughed and jumped to the car. “That was fun! We should do it again!” “No, you were checking out our waitress half the time,” you grumbled. “Did you notice she had puppy ears?” In fact, you didn’t notice anything except the short skirts. “No?” “Yeah! Every waitress and waiter in there wears a pair of animal ears. I think I’d rock the bunny ones.” You chuckled and got into the car, Jungkook following suit. “Honestly, if you worked there…so many girls would flock to eat at the cafe and it would become world famous.” “So you’re saying I’m hot, eh?” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully, making you smack him. “Of course you’re hot. I’d be stupid not to see it, but you are my best friend.”

You knew you had hit a nerve when his smile faltered a bit. “Did you know scientifically, 83% of couples consider their partner their best friend?” “No, I didn’t. I do now.” Jungkook sighed and sat back into his seat and watched you start the car. Once back at the apartment complex, you and Jungkook walked in silence to the elevators. The doors were closing when you heard a quick, “Hold the doors!” You watched as a familiar black haired boy ran into the elevators breathless. “Are you okay, Yuta?” He nodded and checked his watch as if he was in a rush. “Do you have an important meeting or something?” “What’s it to you?” Your eyes widened as Jungkook began to tense up, something he does before he gets ready to fight. Instinctively, your arms pushed Jungkook back against the wall. “It’s not our business, Jungkook.” As much as you wished to know, you couldn’t because as you said, it’s not your business. You pulled Jungkook closer to you on the opposite side of the elevator from where Yuta was standing.

The shoddy elevator shook and groaned before coming to a stop somewhere between the seventh and eighth floor. Yuta growled and checked his phone. “He’s going to kill me,” he muttered to himself. “Attention! Is there anyone in the elevators, if yes please press the call button and let us know.” Jungkook pressed the call button and soon enough you found out that you were stuck for at least three hours. You scrolled through your phone to check for any news. “It seems the entire city has lost power.” “I guess you’re stuck with me!” Jungkook teased. You slid down the wall carelessly and leaned against the wood panel. “Don’t seem so sad. At least you’re stuck with me.” “Can you guys quit flirting all the damn time?” Yuta’s voice echoed a bit in the small space. “What’s your problem, dude?” Jungkook stepped forward. “My problem is that I’m stuck here, late for band practice, and you two sound so cringy. If y’all are going to fuck, wait until we get off.”

“What is your band?” “Riot of the Dark,” he sighed, sitting down. You tugged Jungkook’s hand and gave him a look that said ‘sit down’. “Riot of the Dark? The lead guitarist is Han Jisung right?” “Yeah. How did you know?” You smiled thinking back to your times with the boy. “Jisung is my favourite cousin. In fact, if I’m correct, the leader is Woosung.” Yuta nodded once again. “You seem to know my band pretty well,” he complimented, making you blush. “I like your music.” “I lIkE yOuR mUsIc,” Jungkook mocked. “WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM JUNGKOOK?” “My problem? What’s my problem?” His dark eyes glared at you taking you by surprise. He was never like this. “My problem is you!” You felt a pang in your heart as you held back the tears welling up in your eyes. “M-Me?” “Yes, you! You have your head so far up in the clouds dreaming about Yuta that you can’t see the one person in front of you who likes you. You are so damn oblivious and it hurts the ones around you.” Blood rushed to your cheeks as you felt Yuta’s eyes on you. Jungkook had exposed your crush in front of your crush. You hid yourself in your sweatshirt and silently cried, hating your best friend.

“That was cold.” “SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Rage filled Jungkook at his stupid mistake. Now you probably hated him and there was nothing he could say or do about it. “_______, I’m sorry.” You looked up at him with wet cheeks. “Fuck you,” you spat out. Luckily, the elevator started to move hours before it was said to be running meaning you could get home faster. The doors creaked open and you pushed through the mess of people waiting for the elevator to get to the apartment you call home. You left the door unlocked because as much as you hated Jungkook at the moment, you knew he couldn’t go home just yet, so you locked yourself in your bedroom. Knock. Knock. Knock. You knew at some point, he was going to knock on the door and you’d inevitably open it because it was Jungkook, but you didn’t think it would be so soon. “Go away.” “We need to talk,” he pleaded through the door. “What’s there to talk about? You ruined my crush on Yuta, because now I can never see him face to face again or I might spontaneously combust in anxiety.”

You heard a small laugh through the door. “You won’t spontaneously combust. I’m sorry, you know.” A soft sigh fell from your lips. “I know.” “Will you let me in?” You opened the door and watched as he fell in. “A warning would’ve been nice, but I deserved that.” “Yes you did,” you huffed, biting back a few words, but he noticed it. “You want to say something. I know you do,” he coaxed. “Are you hurt?” A small smile appeared on his face as he realized that not all hope is lost. “A little bruise but it will heal.” “Where?” Jungkook pointed to his head where the bruise was. You flicked it before pulling his head down and giving it a kiss. “ There. I’m still mad though.” He cooed at your little pout and hugged you. “Am I still your friend?” You looked up at him and nodded. Even though he had embarrassed you, the bond runs way deeper than a crush did. “Can you smile for me?” “No.” He giggled cutely and sat down on the swivel chair by your desk. “I’m going to do it,” you stated out of nowhere. “Do what?” “I’m going to confess to Yuta tomorrow!” Jungkook’s face fell and he scowled at the ground.

————————————————

Maybe you were feeling confident or maybe you were led by the determination to right a wrong. Either way, you were standing outside of Yuta’s apartment door, knocking. He opened the door in his emo-like glory and surprisingly, you smiled. “Do you need something? I’m busy practicing.” “I wanted to come over here and explain what happened yesterday.” You paused for a minute, regaining your words, “I like you, Yuta. I’ve been harbouring a crush on you for months now and I wanted to get it off of my chest.” He stared at you silently, and all of a sudden a wave of anxiety hit you. To control yourself from bursting, you picked at the sides of your thumbnails, picking at the skin, most likely causing them to bleed. “I don’t like you. I’m not really interested in getting to know you and I’m not looking for a friend let alone a relationship. If that’s all you wanted to say then I need to go,” Yuta spoke bluntly. “I have one more thing,” you forced out, trying to keep a steady voice. “Have a good life.” With that, you walked away calmly to your apartment where Jungkook was waiting.

“So?” Jungkook asked, feeling somewhat curious. “He rejected me, but oddly enough I’m okay. I’m not sad. I’m not mad. I’m not happy. I’m just okay.” “Is that good?” You nodded, but you were in a hazy state of mind. Like a fog was clouding your thoughts. “I’m going to go home to do some work at my neighbour’s house.” “Okay.” He gave you a quick hug and walked out of your apartment and towards his home. You, on the hand, took a shower to clear your thoughts and then sat on your bed, staring at the wall, trying to find your thoughts. Why didn’t you care that Yuta turned you down? And why did you feel relieved when he rejected you? Your mind turned to Jungkook, and no matter how hard you tried you couldn't stop the memories of him appearing in your head. Somewhere in your confused state, the cafe materialised and then you pieced it all together. You didn’t have a crush on Yuta. He was just something to distract you from Jungkook. Something realistic and not so far fetched, but when your friend told you he loved you, you felt that Jungkook was the realistic thing. That maybe that was a part of your life that you could be happy with.

You locked the door behind you and took off towards the direction of Jungkook’s house. The steps of your running feet echoed through the semi empty streets as you drew closer and closer. The grey door offered you comfort as you knocked. It opened to a confused Jungkook. “_______?” “It wasn’t Yuta,” you said in between breaths. “It never was. It was a fantasy that grew in my head to block the real thing. You.” “You’re not making any sense.” You took a deep breath and kissed him. Happily, he kissed you back, knowing that you reciprocate his feelings. “I understand now,” he smiled. “I’m glad you do.” The two of you stood in the doorway just hugging and whispering confessions in each other’s ear. “I need to go do something, but I’ll come back tomorrow, okay?” “Okay.” Jungkook gave you one last kiss and watched you walk away. He didn’t notice you take a left instead of a right at the end of the block towards your new destination. One that will have a big effect on your life and maybe even better it.

The door of the café jingled as you walked in. “I’m sorry, we’re closed.” The girl looked up at you and smiled. “Oh, our boss told us about you. Follow me.” You followed her to the back where the old woman waited. “I hoped you’d come. Are you here for an interview?” “Yes, ma’am.” She nodded and proceeded to ask random questions for a few minutes. “You’re hired! Give me a second to get your uniform.” The old woman stood up and opened the door. “Areum! Please bring me a uniform for our new employee.” You heard a ‘Yes, Ma’am’ and the girl grabbed a uniform, bringing it to you. “Here you go. Let’s make sure it fits before you leave.” Areum showed you to the bathroom and you tried it on. To your surprise, it fit you perfectly. “It fits,” you said to her. “I knew it would. My fashion major never fails me.” You thanked her and the boss and went home with your schedule in hand.

The next day, you got into your car and headed to your new job at the cafe. “There you are!” The old woman sauntered over towards you. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get changed in the back.” “I don’t mind. Please go see Yuna for your headband before we open up.” You nodded and went to go change. As told to do, you went to find Yuna. With the help of Sora and Areum, you found her. “Here for your headband?” Yuna asked. “Yes I am,” you say while nodding. She handed you teddy bear ears and you sighed, putting them on. “You can put your clothes and stuff in this locker.” You thanked her and checked your phone one last time to see Jimin saying he was taking Jungkook to the cafe and that you weren’t invited because you were a “Debby Downer”. You laughed at the irony and put the phone away before heading out to start seating and serving. “Sora!” “Yes?” She turned towards you smiling. “You remember the guy I was with when I came here before?” Sora nodded. “Can you seat him in my section?” “Sure thing!”

You headed off to start serving the other tables in your sections, working gracefully thanks to your many cousins that used to live with you. Then you heard the bell chime again and Jimin’s cute laugh you tease him about. “Right this way please.” They followed her to your section and sat down in their seat. “Check out the legs on that one,” you heard Jimin whisper. In the corner of your eye, you saw Jimin point at your legs from behind and Jungkook looked awkwardly. You moved to the other person who needed a quick refill before coming up behind Jimin. “If you ever comment on my legs again sir, we will have a problem,” you spoke in your most passive aggressive customer service voice. “_-___?” He stuttered out. Jungkook’s eyes widened as he realised it was you. “What can I get you handsome guys today?” You recited from memory what was to be said. Handsome guys and beautiful ladies. “I’ll have a sprite,” Jimin spoke, not taking his eyes off of you.

“I’ll have a water please.” You jotted down their drinks and recited the well known ‘I’ll be back’ before prepping their drinks. Once you returned, you grabbed your order pad and asked their order. “I would like the number two with onion rings instead of fries.” You nodded and turned towards Jungkook. “And you?” “I’d like the number four with a side of you for desert.” Jimin laughed but you didn’t find it that humorous as you were now blushing and glaring at Jungkook. “Stop glaring, princess. I know you want me.” A small scoff came from your lips. “Shut up.” “You know I’m right,” he said cockily. “I’ll put your order in now,” you hissed through gritted teeth. As you were walking away, you heard the small conversation Jimin and Jungkook had. “Are you guys dating?” “I hope so. They kissed me yesterday and said that they liked me.” You could feel the smile Jimin was giving Jungkook. “Congrats man! I know you’ve been chasing after them and getting friendzoned for a while now.” “I think my heart combusted when they kissed me.” You giggled at his cheesiness and gave the order to the chef.

Your shift went by quickly and you found it was fun. Jimin left a twenty dollar tip while Jungkook wrote a little note on the napkin. Meet me at the gym when you get off of work. You smiled and tucked it into your pocket while throwing the other inappropriate notes in the trash. It felt weird putting your sweatpants back on since the past ten hours were spent wearing a fluffy skirt. The walk to the gym was short and you embraced the squeaky door happily because behind it was Jungkook. He was punching at the punching bag hanging from the steel beam. Sweat dripped from his hair and onto his shirt sticking to his skin. When he saw you, he stopped his attack and gave you a bunny smile before reaching out to hug you. You on the other hand, ducked under his hug not wanting to get all sweaty. “Nope. Not doing it.” He pouted. “Can I at least have a kiss?” “Fine.” Jungkook moved closer to give you a kiss but pulled you into a hug and pecked your lips. “JEON!” You screeched as you felt the sweat drip onto you. “I have a clean shirt in my bag,” he said as he released you and threw you his extra shirt. “How am I supposed to change now?” “Bathrooms.”

You came out in the new shirt and a washed face. “I hate you.” “No you don’t,” he chuckled. “You’re right.” Jungkook resumed his workout while you watched in amazement. “So, I overheard you today.” “What do you mean?” The conversation from the cafe replayed in your head. “Is it true that your heart almost “combusted” when I kissed you?” He stopped for a minute. “Yeah, it did.” A small coo left your lips. “Awww, so cute!” Jungkook smiled and grabbed his towel, wiping away his sweat. “Let’s go to yours?” He suggested. “Sure.” The two of you walked home, hand in hand, talking and laughing. Once inside the apartment you forced him to take a shower to clean up. He washed up quickly to be able to spend more time with you, but you jumped in the shower. You came back to Jungkook staring off into space, muttering angrily. “Why are you angry?” “Because I’m trying to find ways to love you more,” Jungkook replied. You raised an eyebrow, feeling confused, but you sat down and began to brush out his hair. “You deserve all the love in the world and I’m trying to think of different ways to show you.”

“You’re silly, Jungkook.” You ruffled his almost dry hair and kissed his head. “You treat me like the baby when I’m older than you.” “You enjoy it though.” He huffed and crossed his arms. “Stop making valid points.” “How about no,” you yawned out. “Are you tired?” “Of course I am. It’s almost 10.” His head turned toward the clock. “Let’s go to sleep.” He laid down on the other side of your bed and allowed you to cuddle up to him. “Thank you for taking me back even after I rejected you,” you apologized. “My grandma used to tell me that if you love someone, you can either wait or move on but your decisions will affect you, so choose wisely. I chose to wait, not that it took you long to come back to me.” “I suppressed those feelings because I felt that you were out of my league.” Jungkook laughed. “You're not out of my league, I’m out of yours.” “Lies. It’s all lies.” You looked up and kissed him one last time before falling asleep. A few hours later, smiling cheesily, he fell asleep with you in his arms.

#kpop #bts #bts imagines #bts jung jungkook #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungguk #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook angst #bts angst

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hopesbarnes · 4 years ago

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But... I am a good girl

Summary: Based on the song ‘But I am a good girl’ from the Burlesque soundtrack. A dinner date with former sugar daddy!Bucky

Warnings: 18+ Smut, Curse words

At first, it was a lot. The constant gifts and trips. You grew up poor and suddenly you had a closet of heels worth more than a nice car. It made no sense. You were just a girl, did nothing to deserve your new-found lifestyle. You just got lucky one day. James Barnes saw you dance, fell in love, and then you found yourself where you are now.

“Dinner in L.A. Wear the lingerie set I love. -James” The card on your table read. A long time ago the demanding nature of the note would have angered you. But now it made you smile. He didn’t tell you what to do and wear because he was controlling, but rather it was how he showed his love for you. And you loved to be taken care of. He never tried to get you to quit your job as a burlesque dancer. He admired your passion. He also never tried to dictate your life, besides occasionally requesting your presence for dinners, or asking you to wear the lingerie he liked.

Before James, nobody took care of you. You were forced to earn every dime and make it on your own. Now you got to dance for fun and not worry about living paycheck to paycheck. If someone had told you when you were younger married life looked like this you’d never believe them. You would have laughed at the absurdity of that statement.

It was a few hours before you were to meet him at the helicopter, so you dressed in a tight little dress, did your makeup, and fixed your hair. You fastened on a pair of Webster earrings, a Cartier necklace, and a Tiffany tennis bracelet and give yourself a once over in the mirror. You liked to look good for your man and the way it made your heart race when he looked at you made it all the more rewarding. You put on your new Louboutins he got you, a sleek white pair, and headed to the car he ordered you. It didn’t take long to reach him and he’s already standing outside in a light blue Hugo Boss suit that you want to rip off him right there.

“Fuck you look good,” he says rubbing his chin when you get out of the car. “Give me a twirl.” He reaches his hand out above your head and you hold it giggling as you spin.

“You’re one to talk, Mr. Barnes,” you say and lean in for a kiss. He smells amazing, and just being near him makes you dizzy.

“How’d I ever get lucky enough to make you mine, Mrs. Barnes?”

“We both know I’m the lucky one,” you remark.

“Now I will fight you for that title any day doll.”

He helps you into the helicopter before sitting next to you. His hand finds its place on your thigh and yours falls on top of his. Your life is a fairy tale, and there’s no other way to describe it. It’s nearing sunset and the view is fantastic.

“Made a reservation at the Polo. I know how much you love it there,” he says softly.

“Any specific reason you’re buttering me up, baby?”

“Can’t a guy treat his girl right?” he asks and you give him a look.

“Fine. Steve needs me to go to the hotel in Bora Bora for a week and I know you got shows.” If Steve, his second in command, needs him then he needs him. Running a hotel empire is tough work, but it’s what lets you afford the lifestyle the two of you live.

“I could use a vacation.” you think aloud.

“Really?” he asks.

“Unless you don’t want me to come?” you say shyly second-guessing what you said.

“No, god I never want you to leave my side. I worship you honey and would love for you to come to see the resort there.”

“Then it’s decided, let me text my boss,” you say and text that you’ll be out the following week. You hardly miss and have tons of vacation time stored so it shouldn’t be a problem.

“Guess I should return that new Valentino bag I got you then,” he says smiling at you.

You gasp, “With the little studs?” He nods “Don’t you dare!”

“I thought you’d be angrier, and I’d need to pad the blow.”

“Now I get a vacation and the Rockstud bag? Amazing!” you say and kiss his cheek.

“Remember when you didn’t know that Louis Vuitton and Louboutin were different brands? I’ve created a monster,” he says teasing and you kiss him again.

“Your monster,” you say and lean your head on his shoulder.

The restaurant is packed like usual. Socialites gossiping at the bar, businessmen at the high tables negotiating deals, and various celebrities in the darker corners. They all eye the two of you when you enter. You’re one of the “it couples” and the magazines love pictures of the pair of you. James spies Tony Stark and his wife Pepper and the two of you greet them. James and Tony were working together to integrate Stark technology into the suites.

The two men pull aside to discuss business and leave you and Pepper to chat.

“Gosh! Look at that bracelet, it’s gorgeous. How did you get him to give you it?” the redhead asks.

“Good girls get rewarded,” you wink back and she smiles in agreement. “Got him wrapped around my finger, and to be honest I’m wrapped around his too.”

“Best thing in life is to have your man ready to kneel for you,” she says and the two of you laugh and gossip about the other upper-class people you know. Then men finish up their business talk and greet you and you kiss Pepper and Tony goodbyes on their cheeks.

“As much as I’m glad that deal is going through, I’m even more excited to spend some time with my gorgeous wife,” he says.

“Still buttering me up?” you tease.

“Just giving her the compliments she deserves.”

The meal is delicious, and the two of you catch up on your weeks and plan details for the trip to Bora Bora. As you leave James whispers that he got a reserved a suite in his nearby hotel. You kiss him on the cheek and get into the town car he arranged to pick the two of you up in.

The car ride is full of contact, his fingers on your thighs, your arm raking through his hair. The two of you can’t keep your hands off each other. Your entire relationship was based on the magnetic pull between the two of you. Once you reach the hotel he’s quick to drag you to the elevator and pull you to the room he booked.

“Such a pretty dress, but if you listened then I know there’s something even prettier underneath,” he says kissing below your ear and you let a soft moan fall from your lips.

He unzips the dress and it falls to the floor to reveal your skin covered in a floral lace set, complete with a matching garter belt holding up stockings. He groans at you and you giggle. It never got old having him look at you with those hunger eyes, and you would wear whatever he wanted to continue seeing it.

“Think I’m winning the lucky game now,” he whistles lowly and places kisses down your chest before removing the bra from your chest. You tug his hair and pull him to your lips and kiss him fiercely. He was yours, and kisses like that just cemented the idea.

You pull his suit jacket off before undoing his tie and letting him remove his shirt for you. There was something about him in his expensive pants against your near-naked form. You push him against a chair in the living room of the suite and straddle one of his thighs.

“You need these pants for something?” you ask nibbling on his ear.

“Nope,” he says grinning and holds your hips tightly giving you permission to grind against him. He pulls down your garter belt and panties and you’re completely bare atop his clothed thigh. God, you’d die for these thighs.

“Make yourself feel good princess,” he says and tightens the muscles in his thigh and you let out a loud moan and grind your clit into him hard and thrust your hips back and forth using the grinding to give you pleasure. James leans forward and takes your neglected breasts into his mouth tugging on your nipple and it’s too much and not enough all at once and you whine loudly. You try and get up but he pushes you back down and moves your hips for you. You give in and rock back and forth letting the pleasure accumulate. He takes your other breast in his hand and tweaks the nipple and the simultaneous nipple play and friction accumulate and you let out a strangled moan and cum all over his suit pant.

“Fuck babygirl,” he says and pulls you into a kiss.

“Your turn?” you ask as you unmount his thigh and kneel before him and he smiles. He was definitely the luckier of the two of you.

#bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #sugar daddy bucky

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merakiui · 4 years ago

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Morning and Day Teams Playing Among Us HCs

The 14th Department decides to play Among Us. (Part 2 can be found here.)

Morning Team (Mane)

🧩 Ghilley 🧩

Ghilley’s good at sneaking around in real life, so you better believe he’s a pro at using the vents.

Whenever he’s the impostor, his main tactic is to kill someone while they’re doing a task. He normally goes for Jamie because he can’t get used to the controls. Anyone who’s in Admin swiping the keycard better watch out if they can’t get it on the first try.

He’s only played a few times with the others and the manager, but he’s able to memorize the map as he goes along. Sneaking around all the time, even in the game, helps a lot.

He moves fast after he’s killed someone, so whenever there’s a body report no one ever suspects him. Somehow he finds a way to make it as far from the body as possible.

He’s always trying to trick everyone during the debate so they never really know if he’s the impostor or not.

Whenever the Reapers suspect him, he’ll just do that famous laugh of his.

“Am I the impostor? I don’t know. Maybe I am, and maybe I’m not. Ufufufu!”

It’s really hard to determine if he’s guilty or not because of how casual he is when playing.

Sometimes he’ll throw out small hints so that the others will falsely accuse an innocent crew mate. He’ll say the most misleading things, which ends in an incorrect ejection.

His go-to color is black with the machete hat because it matches the sneaky vibe he always emits.

☀️ Ell ☀️

Poor Ell. He’s so bad at Among Us. It’s not even funny.

For one, he can’t lie, so whenever he’s the impostor everyone knows right away.

“It’s not me, guys!” And then he proceeds to sneeze and everyone votes him out.

Him and Jamie stick together because they don’t know what else to do. When he’s a crew mate, he’s one of the first killed because he spends so much time trying to find his way around the map.

Ell does his best to get all of his tasks done so that the others will have a chance at winning.

Him and Jamie vibe in the dead chat. While everyone’s accusing one another, they’re just chilling. It’s honestly kind of fun.

Sometimes he’ll follow Youssef around when the two of them are in the same game. He’s learning so much from his older peers. If only he could actually get better at his gameplay.

Youssef is really nice about it, too. He’s more than willing to help Ell in finding his tasks. That makes Ell very happy.

He tried to use the vents once and Licht caught him.

His go-to color is cyan because it reminds him of a clear sky, and he wears the halo hat.

🐴 Jamie 🐴

Just like Ell, he’s also not good at the game.

Jamie can’t wrap his head around all of the tasks and locations. He was downloading files and someone killed him. Now he’s stuck floating around the map as a ghost.

“What just happened? Am I dead?”

He’s so confused.

Jamie stops and checks the map religiously so he can make it to his tasks. He’s always passing electrical trying to find the wires.

When he was the impostor, he didn’t understand anything other than kill the crew mates. So he did just that and it failed miserably.

“What’s venting? What am I supposed to do with these fake tasks? I need the real tasks, right?”

Everyone votes him out as soon as they hear him say that during the meeting. They don’t even need to debate the location of the dead body.

It’s not his fault he can’t adapt to how fast the game moves. One minute he’s trying to swipe the keycard and the next thing he sees is Ethan twisting his avatar’s neck. He’s doing his best, though.

His go-to color is yellow, and he wears the bird nest hat.

💋 Licht 💋

He’s definitely flirting with the manager through voice chat. It doesn’t matter if the game’s ongoing; he’s going to make a few sly remarks regardless.

“If we win, we should go out to celebrate. Just you and me, darling.”

Licht just doesn’t shut up when he’s playing. Even when everyone’s supposed to silently work on their tasks, he’s busy starting a conversation with the air. No one ever replies, though the manager has begun to humor him.

He’s so upbeat and encouraging—usually just flirty half of the time—that the others have trouble figuring out whether he’s the impostor or not.

Licht’s actually pretty good at keeping his role a secret. That is, until the manager makes a comment.

“Wow! Who’s the imposter this time? They’re really good!” To which, Licht responds with, “Thank you, darling. You’re not so bad yourself.”

Kind of sus of him to say that, and nearly everyone votes for him. Even if he’s not the impostor, he still responds to the manager’s compliments.

He’ll follow the manager around when he’s a ghost, internally hoping they won’t get killed. It’s better to watch and listen as they try to work through the evidence they’ve found.

When they are killed, he tries to make their ghosts kiss. Licht seems to be playing a different type of game.

His go-to color is purple, and he wears the cherry hat.

Day Team (Die)

🎹 Theo 🎹

He’s glued to June so much throughout the game that everyone suspects he’s the impostor. But he’s just trying to protect June. He wants to be able to vouch for his friend in case the others plan on voting him out.

Theo’s actually decent at Among Us. He’s able to study the map and then follow it to his destination. He’s one of the first to finish his tasks so that he can help lead June to his.

When he’s an impostor, he won’t kill June or the manager. The rest of the Reapers are fair game, though.

He’s surprisingly good at being the impostor. One time he and Nine were the impostors and he sabotaged the entire game. He made everyone vote out Nine so that he could win and impress the manager with his gaming skills.

He’s kind of scary when he plays. There’s a cold calculation in that warm expression of his, and it’s rather deceptive.

He goes after Nine the most. R.I.P. to Nine if he ever finds himself in the same lobby as Theo.

Theo has no problems defending himself, June, or the manager during the discussions. He always seems to have a solid alibi. If he’s put on the spot, he’s calm and collected about it, listing out his tasks and everything else that makes him innocent.

He’ll use the vents only when he needs to. Theo likes to sabotage the oxygen and the lights because it’s convenient.

He once mistook June for someone else and killed him. That made Theo incredibly sad. :(

His go-to color is blue, and he wears the chef hat.

🌹 Louis 🌹

He’s not against playing video games if it’s with his friends. But too much screen time can be bad for the eyes and complexion. Besides, why look at a bright screen when he can ogle at his reflection all day? Truly, the latter is far prettier.

He’s not good at the game, but he’s also not bad either. Louis can do his tasks, vouch for those who were with him, and explain where he was when the body was found—albeit with his usual dramatic flair.

“Ethan, why are our names red, but the others aren’t? Perhaps we’re special? Well, I wouldn’t expect anything less than perfect for someone such as myself!”

Ethan’s about ready to strangle him when Louis pulls mindless stuff like that.

Unlike the others, who play to win or to impress the manager, Louis plays for fun. He doesn’t care much about winning or losing. It’s the enjoyment that matters the most, right?

Louis tends to get distracted when he’s playing. The reason for that, you may ask? He noticed himself in the mirror and is now dedicating his time to admiring his features.

When this happens and he goes AFK, he’s killed. When he’s the impostor and he gets sidetracked, he completely forgets about killing.

He’s also vibing in the dead chat, spreading words of encouragement to himself. No one understands what he’s complimenting himself on, but at least Louis seems content.

Louis might not play as often as the others, but he still sets aside time for it. Though that time may get interrupted by his endless self-love.

His go-to color is white, and he wears the crown hat.

♞ Ethan ♞

He plays with intense strategy.

Ethan likes to cut to the chase during the meetings in order to weed out the impostors.

“I’ll keep it simple. Name your tasks and your exact location before the body was reported.” He takes the lead in most of the meetings.

He’s very diligent with his tasks. Those who don’t complete their tasks are on his radar.

When he’s the impostor, he goes for those who are the easiest to kill off. Either that, or they’re just useless. Louis almost always finds his character dead at the hands of Ethan.

He’s not too shabby for an impostor. Ethan knows how to use the vents to his advantage, and he never seems bothered when the others accuse him. He keeps his tone in check, so no one knows if he’s telling the truth or not.

Video games may not be a hobby of his, but he doesn’t mind playing them with the manager if that’s what they want.

When he and the manager are the impostors, they’re an unstoppable force.

He can’t believe he actually enjoyed even a second of Among Us, yet here he is.

His go-to color is red, and he doesn’t bother with wearing a hat.

💥 June 💥

June loves playing Among Us! Not only is it fun, it also reminds him of some elements in those noir films he likes so much. A mystery is more fun when it’s played out amongst your friends.

In the beginning, he was a tad clumsy with his tasks and his role as either a crew mate or an impostor. He’s just trying to get the hang of things, but it didn’t necessarily work out in his favor.

He prefers being a crew mate over the impostor because he likes trying to figure out who’s guilty. It makes him feel like the main character of a mystery-action film.

Sometimes he’ll say the wrong things when he’s the impostor. But in the heat of the moment, he’s just excited to play more.

“It couldn’t have been me! I was hiding in the vents! Haha!”

June once received lots of baked goods from Theo a day after they all played. Theo claimed he had wrongfully killed his friend and wanted to make up for it, but June had already forgotten about that incident.

June doesn’t really suspect anyone whenever he plays. He’ll just go along with what the others say, working off of their evidence to create a conclusion of his own.

He enjoys it when the manager is in the lobby because it means they’ll be able to play together.

When June and Louis are dead, they’re typing to each other through the chat, bonding and having a grand time. They seem to forget about the game and just talk about whatever until one side wins.

His go-to color is orange, and he wears the sheriff hat.

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imaginetonyandbucky · 4 years ago

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The Buy In

Chapter 5: Keeping Up Appearances

by @dracusfyre

Bucky stared sightlessly at New York traffic as he quietly panicked. He tried and failed to think of any way to get out of this, now that he was already in the car; if he could have, he would have given himself nausea and diarrhea immediately and suffered the indignity instead of escorting Tony Stark, the Mechanic, the single most powerful crime boss in Manhattan, to the Policeman’s Ball. What in the hell was he going to say to his handler? For three blocks he debated whether to give them any advance warning at all; it would be so much easier to deal with the fallout later by claiming that Stark had taken his phone before telling him where he was going. For three more blocks, he tried and failed to type something, each sentence he came up with sounding dumber than the last, so with only the barest bit of guilt he stashed his phone in the car’s glove compartment as Happy pulled into the drop off line for the ball.

Cameras started flashing almost as soon as he got out of the car to open Stark’s door, and while Stark climbed out, smiling and waving, he tried to look as boring as possible, mouth a flat line as he ignored the press and kept an eye out for anyone looking suspicious. Just what exactly was he supposed to be guarding Stark from, anyway? Other mob bosses in attendance? A mugger? The police?

“Want a drink?” Stark said once they got inside, and Bucky forced himself to shake his head even though he desperately wanted to say yes. He trailed behind Stark as he glad-handed the crowd, making jokes and asking after people’s kids, and miserably tallied the various important people in the room: the mayor, who gave Stark a handshake and a clap on the back for his donation to the Food Bank For NYC; a representative to the state house, who managed to solicit campaign donations in the guise of complimenting him on his philanthropic efforts; a US Senator that thanked him for his investment advice. And those were just the people that Bucky recognized; there was no telling how many government officials and CEOs that numbered among the people that subtly held court around Stark. He wondered how many knew about Stark’s criminal ties, and how many would care if they did know.

Finally, for Bucky’s sanity, they made the announcement for dinner and everyone filed dutifully into the main hall where they set up tables for the event.

“I was wondering if you were coming, Tony,” an amused voice said from behind them. Stark turned, and the smile he had been wearing all night widened and finally reached his eyes as a tall, slim redhead let him pull her down to kiss her on the cheek.

“Pepper, so glad to see you,” he said, taking one of her hands and putting it in his elbow. “Are you sitting next to me?”

“Of course.” Bucky recognized the woman from Stark’s case file; she was Virginia Potts, his personal lawyer. Though ‘lawyer’ didn’t really capture her, really; from a police perspective, she was Cerberus, the dragon guarding the tower, Gandalf on the bridge: in short, “You Shall Not Pass” in human form. She was largely the reason why Bucky was on this undercover assignment; faced with the potential of meeting her in court, no judge in the city would grant them a warrant without a literal smoking gun of Stark’s guilt. She was just as well connected as Stark was, to boot; one of the other senior partners at her firm was on the short list of the Democrats’ Supreme Court Justice picks and the other worked for the state as the deputy Attorney General. “How are you? Who’s this?” she asked, finally noticing Bucky following them to the dinner table.

“I’m fine, and this is a new guy,” Stark said as he pulled the seat out for Potts to sit. “I call him Blue Eyes.”

Potts rolled her eyes and offered Bucky a surprisingly kind smile. “Don’t worry, he can’t remember my real name either,” she said. “Don’t take it personally.”

“I don’t, ma’am,” Bucky said, returning her smile despite himself.

“Oh, Bill, it’s good to see you,” Stark said, and Bucky glanced away from Potts to see that sitting right across from Stark was the NY police commissioner.

Tony hid a smile as he heard the strangled noise Blue Eyes made when he recognized the police commissioner. But after an evening of watching the man sweat as Tony rubbed elbows with the most powerful men in the state, he took pity on him. “I’ll be good for a while, if you need to take a break,” he said, and watched with amusement as the man all but fled from the table.

“What was that about?” Pepper asked with a small frown, thanking the wait staff as they filled up her glass with water and set a glass of white wine in front of her.

“I think his eyes aren’t the only thing about that guy that’s blue,” Tony said, looking significantly towards the police commissioner. Pepper’s eyebrows shot up and she took a drink of wine as she realized what he was saying, then she barely swallowed it in time before she laughed.

“And you brought him here? You are a terrible person,” she scolded him, clearly trying to suppress a smile.

“Yeah. It’s been fun watching him trying to avoid the cameramen all night. Especially because he’s been so worried about being photographed that he probably didn’t notice the fact that half of the conversations I’ve had tonight involved breaking the law in some way or another.” For example, what had probably sounded like a request for a campaign contribution was actually a solicitation for a bribe, which Tony was going to pay because politicians were just good investments, really, and honestly the Senator Walker should really talk less about how much money he made off of insider trading, particularly when he is using his committee positions to do it.

This time, Pepper’s eyes held a flash of warning instead of amusement, and Tony held up his hands in surrender, turning the conversation to safer waters as they ate.

***

To Bucky’s surprise, Stark was ready to go not long after dinner; for some reason Bucky had the idea that he would want to stay all night, shaking hands and taking turns around the dance floor. He was all smiles as he left, but as soon as the car door closed behind him, he collapsed against the car seat with a sigh.

“You know,” Stark said, eyes closed as he rested his head on the back of the seat, “the funny thing about going to these events, is that I probably shook hands with more criminals tonight than I have in the past six months put together. But no one cares about that because the people who are supposed to care are criminals too.”

“That sucks, Boss,” Happy said, clearly having heard this complaint before. Now that they were far from the crowds and bright lights, Stark’s good mood seemed to be curdling; he sounded almost depressed.

“It’s exhausting, is what it is. Blue Eyes, have you ever had to shake hands with and smile at someone that you hated all the way down to your bones?” Stark’s voice was muffled and Bucky looked back to see that his hands were over his face as he rubbed his eyes.

“Yeah, of course. There’s always that one guy at every job, right? The asshole that no one likes?”

Stark barked out a laugh. “Having only one would be nice, actually.” He sat up suddenly and scooted forward until he was all but in the front seat. “Let’s get dessert. Is there a late night ice cream place? Or pie? Or donuts? Back there they only had some sort of fancy baklava on the menu and I don't like honey.”

Happy and Bucky shared a look and Bucky patted his pockets for his phone before remembering that he’d put it in the glove compartment. Then he remembered why he’d left it in the car, and winced as he saw the notifications on his phone. But it was after midnight so that was going to be a Future Bucky problem. He pulled up the search bar and found a late night cookie company that was on their way home.

When they got there, there was no place to park, so Bucky got out with Stark to go inside while Happy stayed with the car. Unsurprisingly, they were the oldest people inside; the cashier and the two other customers looked like they were still in high school or college, because realistically who would be looking for a sugar fix this late at night except students. And one mob boss with a sweet tooth, apparently. Stark made a beeline for the display case and all but pressed his nose to the glass.

“What’s your favorite kind of cookie?”

“Something with fruit and nuts in it,” Bucky said. “You?” Bucky came up next to him to read all the labels. “Mexican chili cookie? Who wants a spicy cookie?”

“Can’t do better than chocolate chip,” Stark said. “But that salted caramel is speaking to me.” He glanced up at the menu and said, “Ooh, ice cream sandwiches,” sounding so excited that Bucky had to smother a smile. It was hard to keep a straight face as Stark deliberated; the man was being so stupidly cute as he debated the merits of the different options that Bucky had the dumbest fucking desire to kiss him. Stark ended up buying a whole box of cookies and an ice cream sandwich because he couldn’t decide on which cookies he wanted, and because he kept thinking of people to give them to: “Happy will say he’s on a diet but I think he’ll want one of these M&M cookies. I don’t think I’ve ever seen mint in a cookie, I’ll get that one for Rhodey, but also this sprinkle one because it will be funny.”

Maybe it was the sugar or the impulsive shopping trip, but Stark seemed in lighter spirits as they drove the rest of the way back to his garage, telling funny stories about the people that had been at the event. It even made Happy unbend a little, as much as he ever did when he was working, and at one point Bucky was laughing so hard he was in tears.

“Here’s good, Happy,” Stark said before they could pull into the secured parking lot behind the garage.

“Are you sure, Boss?” Happy said dubiously. “It’s not safe-”

“I got Blue Eyes to protect my virtue, right Blue Eyes?” Stark said. Bucky almost bobbled the box of cookies as climbed out of the car at the mention of Stark’s virtue, and when Stark met his eyes Bucky knew he’d done it on purpose. “Come on inside with me,” Stark continued. “We need to talk about the event tonight.” He leaned over to look at Happy through the window. “You go on home, I’ll make sure he gets home ok.” When Happy nodded, Stark tapped on the top of the car and stepped back from the curb as the car pulled away

Bucky’s hands tightened on the box of cookies as his heart gave a heavy thump and his mouth went dry. He swallowed against a spike of nerves. We need to talk was never a good sign, but also, he was about to be alone with Stark. Trying not to think about what had happened earlier, he trailed awkwardly behind Stark as he put in the security code for the door and stepped inside, turning on a few of the big banks of fluorescent lights as he went.

“You can change, if you want,” Stark said, gesturing towards the bathroom where Bucky’s clothes were still folded neatly on the sink. He shrugged out of his suit coat and unbuttoned the sleeves, rolling them up so the cuffs didn’t dangle. Bucky’s eyes lingered for a moment on the lean muscles of his forearm, the strong, slender wrist bracketed by the narrow-banded watch, and decided that a moment alone in the bathroom was a good idea.

He changed quickly and splashed cold water on his face, giving himself a stern lecture about professionalism in the mirror, reminding himself why he was really here. His boss would be telling him that this was a great opportunity, that he seemed to have Stark’s trust. That now would be the perfect time to dig a little deeper. Bucky told himself that even though Stark was handsome and funny and apparently the kind of guy that would stuff a hundred dollar bill in a tip jar didn’t mean that…

“Wait, start over,” he muttered, shaking his head. Even though Stark seemed like a good person he was, at the very least, the target of a massive criminal investigation, even if it did seem like maybe there were worse criminals out there they could be investigating. They weren’t friends, he reminded himself. Stark didn’t know anything about him, and would probably drop him into the Hudson if he did. With that sobering thought, Bucky sighed, gathered up the fancy suit and shoes Stark had lent him, and went back out to the main room.

Then that whole pep talk promptly went out the window as he came out to see Stark sitting on a metal table, swinging his legs like a kid as he ate a cookie. As Bucky came closer, he saw that Stark had kicked off his shoes and had also taken a signle bite out of half the cookies in the box. When he looked up at Bucky with a smile of welcome, Bucky knew that he was in trouble.

“So what did we need to talk about?” he asked, taking a seat on the table next to Sta- Tony. He might as well stop calling him Stark; it’s not as if thinking of him by his last name was helping him maintain any sort of objectivity.

“Just getting your impression about tonight. Did you notice anything I should know about?” Tony held out the cookie box and Bucky took one of the oatmeal craisin ones, one of the few that Tony hadn't taste tested.

He took a bite to buy himself some time to think; Bucky had a lot of observations from tonight, ranging from the completely inappropriate (the curve of Tony's ass when Ms. Potts dropped something and Tony bent over to pick it up) to the irrelevant (not impressed with the music selection) to the potentially explosive (the Commandant had a drinking problem and was probably cheating on his wife). Assessing which were relevant to Tony took a moment. “There were a couple of people that were giving you the evil eye all night,” he said finally. “Right after you shook hands with them they looked like they wanted to shank you.”

Tony threw his head back and laughed at that. “I’m sure. Was one of them a skinny tool with glasses? Justin Hammer?”

“Yeah, that was one. Another one was the Special Agent in Charge of an FBI satellite office-”

“Not surprising,” Tony commented. “She’s new. The new ones are always hungry, she’ll come around.”

“-And the other was a big guy, bald but had a beard. I didn’t catch his name, sounded like you called him Toby.”

“You mean Obie? Obediah Stane?” Tony said with surprise. He dug out his phone and pulled up a picture. “This guy?”

Bucky leaned over to look at the phone. “Yeah. I always saw him watching you when you were talking to other people. Guy had eyes like a shark. People like him can kill someone and pass a lie detector test while his hands were still bloody. Who is he?”

“A family friend.” Tony frowned down at his phone and tapped it against his palm thoughtfully. “At least, I thought he was.”

“Oh shit. I’m sorry,” Bucky said. “Maybe I’m wrong, you know, I’m not-” an expert, is what he was going to say, but he stopped because no matter how you sliced it, cop or criminal, he was. He was an expert in assessing threats, and that guy was definitely bad news.

Tony waved his words away and tossed his phone on the table with a clatter. “It’s fine. Better to know. I’ll look into it. Anything else?”

Bucky shook his head and took another bite of cookie. “Why do you go to these things if they are full of people you don’t like and apparently people who don’t like you?”

“Networking, mostly. Obligation. Gotta show my face every now and then. Spite,” he added with a smirk. “But it’s also a good reminder.” When Bucky made a questioning sound, he took another cookie from the box and nibbled the edge. “Look, I was a rich asshole for a long time,” Tony said after a moment. “Too long. Then one day, I met a guy at a party. Don’t even know how he got invited because he wasn’t rich, wasn’t famous, he was just some doctor. And I don’t remember what I was saying, but at one point he looked at me with such pity,” Tony said, eyebrows drawing together. He studied his cookie like it was helping him remember. “I still remember his face. No one had looked at me with pity before, and he said, ‘Look at you. All this money and still you have nothing.’ And I was like, ‘excuse me? Do you know who I am?’ As you do, right, because I could have anything I wanted, I’m fucking Tony Stark. And he said, ‘Yeah, I know who you are. I’ve seen dozens of men like you. And despite all their money, all their fame, death came for all of them in the end, and they had nothing to show for it but a tacky tombstone.’” Tony bit his lip, frowning a little. “I’m sure I said something, but he just finished his drink and walked away, like I wasn’t worth his time. I wish I could say that I had this like, huge change of heart and changed my ways after that night, but it ended up being this gradual thing.”

Bucky realized he was staring. “What do you mean?” he asked, taking a bite out of the cookie he just remembered he was holding.

“Well, I looked him up later and found out he ran a free clinic downtown and on a whim I donated some money. Like, 'see what a good person I am, have some money.' Like I was proving him wrong somehow by doing that." Tony snorted and shook his head at the memory. "Anyway, doing that puts you on some kind of list somewhere, apparently, and one day I got an email about a runaway shelter. Then a food bank, then a refugee thing, and it kind of snowballed from there.”

“Wait, wait.” Bucky shook his head. “How did you go from ‘donating to a clinic’ to ‘mob boss over half of Manhattan’? That’s one hell of a snowball.”

“Well, after donating to a bunch of causes, I saw that a housing complex near all these nonprofits went up for sale, so I bought it,” he said with a shrug, fiddling with a napkin as he talked. He was already done with his cookie somehow, despite having done most of the talking. He reached for another from the box and took a tiny bite. “I was kinda feeling like, I don’t know, tied to this area as I kept an eye on my pet projects. Then I started getting a bunch of complaints about the conditions and I was pretty fucking appalled at what I was seeing. Like, no one should live like that. It was a shame for rats to even be living there. So I fixed it up, and then I set up a trust for the building and gave it back to the tenants. All their rent goes in a fund, and they spend money on that fund to pay for what the complex needed.”

“Like a condo association?”

“More like a cooperative. They decide how much to charge everyone for rent, they decide if they want to spend money on painting the place or upgrading the light fixtures, you know, whatever. I think last time I checked they had put in a community garden. So when another came up for sale, I bought it, and then another, then I realized I might as well invest in some of the businesses here. After the fiasco of that first apartment building, I started looking at what I was spending my money on so I would know what to expect. Then when I was looking at a commercial building, people came in to shake down the owner of one of the businesses while I was there. Like, I was standing right there and those people didn’t give a shit who saw them. I was so surprised that I didn’t say anything until it was over, and then I asked the guy if that happened a lot. Can’t let that go on, you know, because...well, I mean, the owner looked so scared, and that made me mad because he's just trying to make a living, you know? Also, it cuts into the bottom line, so.” Tony shrugged again. “I put a stop to it. And then, well,” he gestured expressively around him with his cookie. “Like I said. Snowball.”

Bucky could only stare, bemused. If he had heard the same story on his first day of work, he might have been unable to keep from laughing in Stark’s face. But now…well, it was increasingly hard to square what the police knew – or thought they knew – about Tony Stark and what Bucky was seeing. “I guess no kid wants to be a criminal when they grow up,” Bucky said. “We all just kind of wander into it.”

“Yeah? Is that how you went from Bagram to Brighton Beach?”

Now it was Bucky’s turn to shrug, uncomfortable. After hearing Tony's story, he didn’t want to feed him some bullshit line from his cover story. “There’s only a few career opportunities for a grunt back home,” he said vaguely. “Even fewer that pay well.”

He glanced up to see Tony studying him thoughtfully. “Do you miss it?”

“The Army? Hell no.” That part was true enough.

“How about here? Are you happy here?”

Bucky’s mouth quirked. “Are you asking me about my job satisfaction? One means not at all satisfied, ten means highly satisfied?” He had the pleasure of watching Tony almost spit out a bite of cookie as he surprised a laugh out of him.

“Sure,” Tony said after a moment when he finished chewing. "One out of ten."

“Ten,” Bucky said truthfully. “I like helping people.” He had the traitorous thought that the past few months working with KT had been closer to what he'd thought it would be like to be a cop than what it had actually turned out to be like, and felt vaguely guilty.

“Yeah, me too.”

They sat there in a surprisingly comfortable silence for a few moments before Bucky heard the ding of a notification on his phone. He silenced it without looking – his handlers were still yelling about the Policeman’s Ball – but sighed when he saw the time. “It’s getting late,” Bucky said reluctantly, more because it seemed appropriate rather than any desire to actually leave. He opened his mouth to say, I had a great time tonight and immediately felt like an idiot because, bare feet and half-eaten box of cookies aside, this wasn't, in fact, a date.

But apparently he wasn’t the only one who had lost the plot, because Tony said, “Would you like to come up for a dr-” before he cut himself off with a look of horror that would have been funny if Bucky hadn’t, deep down, wanted so badly to say yes. “I’ll call you a cab,” he said instead, looking away to grab his phone.

“I’ll wait outside,” Bucky said, and fled.

***

Tony watched from a window as Blue Eyes' taxi drove away, then as Tony went up the elevator to his penthouse condo he texted a sad face to Rhodey.

Told you it was a bad idea, Rhodey wrote back.

Don’t say I told you so. I’m sad, Tony responded.

You’re making yourself sad pining after an undercover cop. I don’t feel bad for you.

“That’s fair,” Tony said out loud. You should. I got you cookies and you’re being mean to me. Tony texted Rhodey a picture of the half-empty box of cookies and made himself sad all over again, remembering the intensity with which Blue Eyes had stared at the display of cookies when told to pick one, like it was a pop quiz that he was determined to pass.

Go to bed, Tones.

With a sigh, Tony tossed his phone on the bed and started peeling himself out of the monkey suit, setting the cufflinks he’d been wearing on his dresser as he threw the suit and shirt on the back of a chair to be dry cleaned. The problem was that tonight, like every night for the past few years, Tony was going to bed by himself. There had been a certain point where he’d realized that he’d tipped over from bending the rules, to breaking the rules, then to breaking the rules in a way that would get him put on lists written by people with badges, and at that point he’d realized that to bring anyone into his life was to put a target on them. The only way to avoid it was to not get close to anyone, but he’d done the one-and-done lifestyle and wasn’t interested in that anymore. It had been Pepper for a while, because she was more than capable of protecting herself, but after a year she had gently but firmly told him that it wasn’t working for her, and that had been the end of it. Since then, there had been a few people that he thought maybe, maybe this one but in the end, they didn’t feel right.

Blue Eyes felt right. He knew it was dumb and he knew what Rhodey would say – star crossed lovers only exist in fiction, Tones - but as he slid between the sheets that night, he let himself daydream about it until he fell asleep.

#tony stark #bucky barnes #tony x bucky #winteriron #no powers au

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prose-for-hire · 4 years ago

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Secret Santa

12 Days of Christmas: Day 1

Pairing: Wesley Wyndam-Pryce x reader

Request: If you're still accepting winter requests could I have a wesley x reader where the reader tells wesley that they still stubbornly believe in Santa claus so he gets them a gift and they do the "Santa's handwriting looks suspiciously like yours" line? I love your writing btw and hope you have a good winter!

Requested by: @alltheangstmygifttoyou

You were sat in the library with your nose in a book. He had joined you again. The same guy, always sat two seats away from you. He never spoke to you, sometimes he glanced over when he thought you weren’t looking. You were relaxed in his presence, not many could do that. For some unknown reason in your soul, you trusted him.

You came here for fun, to find a peaceful place to read. Your apartment was full of roommates and you paid too much for very little personal space. So you spent a lot of your free time here. It was an escape from the mundane. You went on epic adventures, got lost in new lands. Met angels and demons. Read tales of good and evil. You could only dream of being a part of something like that. It was everything you wanted. Sometimes you read non-fiction. Wanting to absorb as much information as you could. You liked learning and you knew knowledge was important. The guy often noted what you were reading, he was fascinated by the array of texts you would read.

This man, a rogue demon hunter by night and a regular of the library by day was named Wesley. He had been travelling since his stint as a watcher in Sunnydale and had settled here for the moment. The truth was, Wesley had been building up the courage to speak to you for a while. He loved to sit in the library it had a great atmosphere for when he needed to focus. But since he had noticed you, the last thing he could do was focus.

He caught your eye often and sometimes you shared a smile. It was as if you were both holding your breath, seeing if the other would make a move first. But neither of you did. That was, until one day. In early December. Today. You had been to the market earlier that day and had decided to treat yourself by buying yourself some old trinket from the flea market on your way to the library. This had caught the man’s eyes and you smiled. But today, he didn’t smile back. He was staring from your neck to your face with concern. He paused for a moment, but he had to say something.

“H-Hello, could I, um, borrow that necklace?” he whispered and pointed at the chain around your neck. You blinked at him. Your frown now matching his. He never spoke to you before and the first thing he wanted was to borrow the gold chain around your neck. He hadn’t complimented it. Hadn’t said that he liked how unique it was. Just asked you to remove it.

“No, it’s mine. Sorry” you shifted away from him trying to get back into your book. But he persisted moving seats right beside you.

“it’s glowing and… leaking a yellow liquid that I know for certain is a concentration of yak’s blood and wolfsbane” He stated trying to get you to understand. The necklace had been dipped in the potion and cursed to hold something by his quick assessment of the situation.

“Sorry, you’ll have to get your own. Perhaps put it on your Christmas list to Santa” You offered unhelpfully as he looked at you aghast at the suggestion. Especially so when

“There is no such thing as Santa, now won’t you please listen to what I’m saying”

“I’ve seen you around here, you know… I had been hoping you would say something but you never did” You said slowly frowning at the way he had denounced Santa so easily, “Now I know why, you’re basically Scrooge McDuck”

“I assume that this is some caricature of one Ebenezer Scrooge and not a backhanded compliment” He muttered, shaking his head. He had imagined your first interaction going a lot smoother than this. He remembered what he was trying to do and focused on the threat instead, “I just think it would be wise for you to remove the chain and pass it over to me slowly” he said, his arms raised to highlight how serious he was. You got up to leave and he followed you out.

“But this was my Christmas present to myself, I found it on the market! And, even if I wasn’t attached to the chain, you just ruined my favourite time of year by denying Santa’s existence!” You hissed at him as you left the main room of the library and into the corridor leading to the exit.

“What are you talking about-”

“You know that the magic of Christmas, and more importantly, Santa only works if you believe” you insisted, your face deadly serious as you turned back to look at him. Stopping dead in the corridor.

“Don’t be ridiculous! Just- give me the-” he grabbed at the necklace and tugged it, breaking the clasp and pulling it from your neck. You frown, trying to snatch it back. You end up doing a crude tug-of-war with the gold chain.

This was when you both felt a white hot heat burning your fingertips. You both knew you had messed up as you yelped in unison and dropped the chain to the ground. A white light blinded you both momentarily and when it disappeared a demon was towering over you. Your eyes widened. You had never seen anything like it. You had a certain level of belief in the things you could not see or explain but you had never considered something like this. Never expected anything like the fantasy you had read in books to become a reality. But there was no other explanation than this was a demon. Perhaps it came from the books… or, oh, of course. The necklace.

“Who hath summoned me? Reveal yourself!” The booming voice echoed around the corridor as he shrugged off the tinsel he had knocked down from the walls as he had appeared. He stamped on it for good measure and scowled around.

A librarian came to tell the group to be quiet, her finger hovering over her lip ready to motion you to be silent. However, when she saw the identity of the one making all the noise she backed out of the hall and back through the double doors into the main library, shaking her head. That was more trouble than it was worth.

That left you, the Englishman and this unusual creature that kind of looked half yak, half Santa clause if he had spent the night passed out in a bush. He even had jingle bells on the lining of his cloth outfit.

“Speak, child! Who dares stand before me?!” the giant pointed at you. But Wesley stepped in front of you.

“Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, demon hunter” He recited, staring in his eyes and hoping nobody else saw his slight shaking.

“You wish to hunt me as sport? Do you know who I am?” he asked.

“Hogroth, warrior demon of the Land of Lap” Wesley stated quickly. Your eyes widened. This was too good to be true. Well, it would be if a demon who was tangled up in tinsel as if it was a web

Hogroth unsheathed his weapon and Wesley quickly started to fight against him.

After trading blows and dodging the sharp edge of the sword, Wes managed to knock the weapon from his hand. This appeared to even surprise himself. He grabbed the sword and pointed it at his chest before slashing at it. They fought against each other as you watched on like a spare part, with the demon unwrapping the tinsel from its upper arm and used it to try and strangle Wesley.

You couldn’t let this happen. You needed a distraction. You shrugged, remembering something you had read in a fight scene. You might as well give this a go. If it was a dream you would just wake up and if it wasn’t, well, you tried to push that thought away. You ran up and jumped onto his back covering his eyes as he hit out wildly. Hogroth grabbed you and flipped you over his head leaving you landing hard on the floor. Wesley saw his chance and plunged the demon’s own knife into his heart. This left him sinking to his knees and disappearing in the same way he came. You managed to haul yourself up, breathing heavily and wondering if there had been something stronger than nutmeg in the Christmas cookies one of your roommates had given you before you left the house that day.

“Thank you, for helping me” Wesley said sincerely, “It means a great deal to me, and I do apologise about your, uh, jewellery” he motioned to the blackened scorch mark that had once been your nice chain.

“Don’t mention it” You shrugged, a lot cooler than you felt. You were still a little bemused. But of course you would help him even if you were still a little put out from the way he had so cruelly cut down your talk of Santa. You liked the magic of Christmas and if a Hogwarts demon, or whatever it was that the man said he was existed then why not Santa? It was hypocritical but you supposed it wasn’t really a necessary argument. You decided to just say your goodbyes although you did avoid the library for a while after this. You decided to have some space away from the demon you had watched die and also the self-appointed demon hunter who had insisted Santa didn’t exist.

Finally, you caved. It was the week leading up to Christmas and you had to go to return your books before the library closed for the holidays. You also needed some time out of the apartment, someone new had moved in and you had no plans over the holiday season not just because you expected your room to have been rented out if you left too far away from town. You decided the coast was clear and you stowed away in a corner to read with some peace. Time had passed and you had been transported to amazing worlds that were detailed on the pages. It made you think about what had happened. About the possibility there were real adventures out there. Real monsters to vanquish. Real heroes. Real people to offer your heart to.

“I wish to apologise properly” a familiar English voice spoke, pulling you from your thoughts. One that had been in your mind since that day. The day you met a demon for the first time. The day you met a man that you could see as a kind of angel. He sat down opposite you, a low table with a poinsettia between you.

“That’s okay, I think Santa’s the one you should be apologising to really” You say without looking up from your page, although you had stopped reading.

He just nodded once and slid a wrapped box towards you. It made you close your book slowly, looking first at him and then the gift. You cautiously reached out and turned over the note attached.

Dear y/n,

I hope that you can forgive Wesley he really likes you – it is the season of forgiveness.

He’s sorry.

Love, Santa

“Santa’s handwriting looks suspiciously like yours” You say seriously which actually made him smile wide. He was fond of you before he had even gotten to know you fully. One more look from your bright eyes or a smile from your lips and he was yours. Forever. It really was a storybook romance as you had been worrying about believing too easily. He couldn’t help but want to be with you, want to protect you. And he hoped this gift would mean that you forgave him and you could get to know each other better.

“You do not know what Santa’s handwriting looks like” He murmured, but you gave him a look as if to say of course you did. Your attention then moved to the gift. You opened the packaging slowly, savouring the moment. You had this feeling. Like this magic inside. You knew deep down that this was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your days with.

When you opened it, a perfect chain was laying on the velvet material. You gasped, trying to insist he didn’t have to do it. This was too much for an acquaintance to give.

“You lost your necklace, of course you needed a new one” He said simply, not allowing himself to gush the very feelings he had now started to harbour. It was too much to put on a person too quick. He had never believed in the kind of love in movies, much less love at first sight. But he truly understood it now.

“But I haven’t got you anything…” you say softly.

“I think, perhaps, you could do me the honour of going on a date with me? I am new here”

“Demon hunting keeps you on the road?” You say and he looks away a little embarrassed. You could see this meant a lot to him. He was lonely, “I can think of a better present” You offered, leaning in. Your eyes cast towards his lips and then back up to his eyes. He threaded his hand between the hair at the base of your neck, pulling you into him. Your lips met and a growing fever ignited inside the both of you. Your affections growing. The potential of this union a dizzying prospect. Your lips moved together softly, such feeling transferring between each other.

This Christmas was the start of a true adventure. Falling in love had been the easy part. But learning of the true extent of the demon underworld and meeting some of Wesley’s acquaintances brought more danger. You wouldn’t trade your place to be back in that cramped apartment without Wesley in your life though. For a start, he let you decorate the flat you shared in any way you liked for Christmas. He often helped and listened to direction with an adoring smile on his face when he looked at you.

Nothing ever took you away from each other. And nothing ever took Christmas away from you. Every year you celebrate with gusto and every year you can feel yourself falling more and more in love for your dorky rogue demon hunter. No matter what anyone else thought of him, he would always be your hero. Since the first day you properly met.

#wesley wyndam pryce #Wes #Wesley x reader #Wesley x you #Wesley Wyndam pryce imagine #wesley wyndam price x reader #btvs #btvs x reader #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #btvs imagine #12 Days of Christmas #angel the series #ats #ats x reader #ats x you #gender neutral #gender neutral reader #gender not mentioned

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star-labs-intern · 4 years ago

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Serendipity: A New Year’s Kiss harrisco fic

A/N: This is super late but it is for @heckyeahharrisco ‘s beautiful Harrisco New Year’s Kiss Anthology! Happy almost- New year!

Summary : Harry and Cisco have a one night stand the night before NYE and then find themselves at the same New Year’s party.

Serendipity

The date was December 30th and Cisco was out at the bar, drinking. The holidays had been stressful to say the least and he deserved some proper rest and relaxation. He was hoping for someone to flirt with, so Cisco wasn't at his usual haunt tonight. He was at a place a little further across town that was usually very busy but tonight, looked like a ghost town. He looked up when a tall, lanky man of ambiguous age came to stand near Cisco.

“So...Do you come here often?" Harry Wells found himself asking, aloud.

Cisco barked a laugh. “That line ever worked on anyone before?”

Harry chuckled and reddened a little. “Honestly haven’t used it on anyone in a while. But I’m truly curious. You don’t exactly strike me as a regular.”

Cisco nodded at the drunks asleep at the counter. “No, I am certainly not a regular.”

“So that means, young attractive man, not at his usual neighborhood bar… looking to get into trouble tonight?”

Cisco found himself laughing for the second time. “You’re the one calling me attractive without even buying me a drink, let alone introducing yourself.” Cisco smirked at this handsome stranger. “And I’m the one looking for trouble?”

“Harry Wells. And I’d love to buy you a drink, even if you don’t tell me your name.” Harry leaned closer to the man with the beautiful curly hair, anticipating his response.

“My name’s Cisco. Cisco Ramon. And, yes, I think I’ll let you buy me a drink.” Cisco sized Harry up for a second.

“Oh, you’ll allow me to buy you a drink? How kind of you.” Harry quipped.

They decided to move to a table to talk. One thing led to another and suddenly Harry was asking Cisco to come home with him. Then, before they knew it, Harry and Cisco were two single people heading home together on a cold New Years Eve, Eve, intent on having some fun with no expectations.

Cisco always buzzed with nervous energy before moments like this and Harry could feel it radiating off of him.

“Relax,” Harry cooed as they got out of the taxi. They stood at the bottom of the stairs that led up to Harry’s apartment. It was bitter cold but Cisco stared up at the door and then looked sheepishly back toward Harry.

Cisco couldn’t help feeling a little bit of hesitation. Harry was an older man, a stranger, bringing Cisco into his home, after all.

“Hey,” Harry stopped Cisco by gently grabbing him by the shoulders. “You good?” Harry asked seriously, instead of complaining about the cold or rushing Cisco inside.

“I’m so good,” Cisco nodded, suddenly back in the moment with refreshed enthusiasm.

Harry grinned and pulled Cisco to him, kissing him slowly. Cisco felt lightheaded.

"Let's go inside. I'm cold." Cisco complained when they parted.

"Hmm, I think I may be able to help with that," Harry replied cheekily as they ascended the steps and disappeared into the apartment

***

The next morning Cisco was up cooking breakfast, even though it was Harry’s home.

Harry grinned waking up to the smell of food. “I don’t remember telling you to get out of bed,” Harry teased as he came into the kitchen.

Cisco blushed, “Good morning! I think we both deserve some food after last night,” he deflected the flirtation but looked at Harry under low lids.

Harry came to kiss Cisco squarely on the mouth. “You are amazing. Thank you for such a wonderful evening.”

“I certainly enjoyed myself,” Cisco grinned and kissed Harry back before breaking away. “Now! Unless you want burned eggs to ring in the last day of the old year, I suggest you stop distracting me,”

"Whatever you say, Cisco," Harry grinned

***

Later that day, Cisco was at home preparing for his New Years Eve party. He was going to Mercury labs with his best friend Caitlin Snow. He was going as “back up”, as moral support for Cait, who worked there, and he had to start getting ready.

His phone vibrated and, expecting a message from Cait, Cisco opened his phone. What he found was Harry’s apparent phone number, saved under “That Hot Guy” and a new message saying “Had a blast with you. Hope to see more of you in the new year.”

Cisco rolled his eyes and quickly texted back “You saw plenty of me last night. You’re so corny”

After hesitating for a moment, Cisco texted again, “But I also had a blast and we should def do it again soon”

“Sounds like a plan” Harry texted back and Cisco bit his lip, thinking of another night promised with Harry. He was a little bit irritating, for lack of better word, and there were moments where Cisco kind of wanted to strangle him, but boy did they have chemistry…

With another twist and turn, Cait was picking Cisco up for the party.

“What did you end up doing last night?” Cait asked, in the car.

“Honestly, I went out to the bar and had a one night stand,” Cisco winced as he told Cait.

“Did you really??” Cait grinned. “Give me all the details, why didn’t you text me where you were?? What if he had been a murderer?”

Cisco laughed. “I have my pepper spray, don’t worry. I can handle myself. He was… very smart. A little older than me. Kinda sarcastic in this really annoying way.”

Cait was looking at Cisco. “And how was it?”

Cisco rolled his eyes. “It was really nice and I had a really good time.” He said, looking out the window again and avoiding Cait’s reaction.

“Did you get his number??”

“Oh my god, Cait, enough of the third degree!”

When Cisco peeked at Cait, she was still grinning from ear to ear. Cisco groaned and filled Caitlin in on the rest of the details.

“Wow, Cisco. Good for you!” Cait complimented as they got to the party and started getting out of the car.

“Thank you, it was fun, yes, and hopefully I will see him again, but now it’s time to enjoy this party! So please, no more Nancy Drew-ing my love life, okay?”

Caitlin pretended to zip her lips. “Time to party,”

Cisco smiled. “Thank you!”

***

Cisco had tried his honest to god best, to continue and forget all about Harry.

They had been at the party a little over an hour, when Cisco spotted him. “Oh shit. I’ve gotta be fucking dreaming,” Cisco muttered to himself.

“What are you doing?” Cait asked as Cisco was suddenly hiding behind a waiter holding a tray of appetizers.

“Nothing,” Cisco replied, stealing a glance from behind the waiter, to see if Harry had noticed him. He was a little ways away, standing profile, speaking with some woman in a fabulous pant suit, and it didn’t seem like he had spotted Cisco yet.

“Are you hiding from Dr. McGee? She adores you, she wants you to come work with us.” Cait asked, narrowing her eyes.

“That’s who that is. Nope. Actually, yes, I am hiding from Tina McGee, I don’t want her to see me in this hideous tie I picked out with champagne glasses on it.” Cisco lied, poorly.

Cait rolled her eyes but then narrowed her eyes at Harry. She was starting to put the pieces together.

“Cisco…”

“Listen, Cait, I think I’m gonna have to go home early, I’m getting a terrible stomach ache…”

“Cisco, is that the man you slept with last night??” Cait whisper yelled at Cisco, pulling him out from behind the waiter with the appetizers and dragging him to the entrance.

“What? Where would you get a crazy idea like that?” Cisco laughed, nervously this time.

Cait looked at Cisco and blinked, waiting for him to come clean.

Cisco pursed his lips. “Not gonna buy the stomach ache story, huh?” Cisco asked.

Cait laughed. “You’re the worst. Just go over and talk to him. Just say hi and make it not awkward, and then come find me. I’ll be mingling.”

“Fine.” Cisco grimaced. “I can’t believe I told you any of that. This is the worst New years party ever,” Cisco whispered to Cait before going off to find Harry.

Cisco spotted his tall demeanor at the drink table. He was grabbing another glass of champagne. Cisco took a deep breath and approached Harry.

“So… Do you come here often?” Cisco asked, mirroring Harry’s words from the night before.

Harry glanced up at Cisco. His eyes were wide. He took a swig of his champagne before he answered.

“That line ever worked on anyone before?” Harry asked with a tight lipped smirk. They smiled at each other, in shared loaded silence for a moment.

“Did you know I was going to be here?” Cisco asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Did you know I was going to be here?” Harry turned it around.

“Touché.” Cisco commented, grabbing a champagne glass and offering Harry a toast. Harry tipped his glass to clink with Cisco’s and they shared a drink.

“Well, I just wanted to say hello. Enjoy your evening.” Cisco said.

“Alright, Cisco. But I have to warn you, these things are dreadfully boring,” Harry commented.

Cisco laughed and headed back off to find Caitlin.

“All sorted out?” Cait asked.

“Easy, peasy,” Cisco said in reply.

“I don’t even want to know.” Cait said.

Forty-five minutes later and Cisco was starting to get what Harry meant. This was a giant party but people kept going in and out, finding different groups to linger in, it was impossible to keep track of who you had and hadn’t met yet. All these academic types started to blend together after a while. It was honestly starting to give Cisco a headache.

Cisco gave a sharp gasp when someone grabbed his arm, suddenly.

“Sorry, did I scare you?” Harry’s rasp was soft in Cisco’s ear and his fingers were tight but gentle holding Cisco’s arm. Where had he even come from?

“A little,” Cisco admitted, looking up at Harry.

“Aren’t you bored yet?” Harry asked again, soft this time leaning all the way in, to whisper in Cisco’s ear. “If you’re as bored as I am, you should meet me up on the rooftop in fifteen minutes.”

Cisco felt shivers up and down his spine, and said, “Make it ten,”

Harry grinned and walked off. Cisco was thankful that Cait was otherwise occupied talking to a gaggle of her coworkers.

Cisco waited four agonizing minutes before nodding at Cait and then walking off down the hallway to find Harry.

He took the elevator up to the top floor. He followed the signs for the staircase. Cisco went up a half flight of stairs and found a door which was propped ajar with a rock. On the door it said, “Roof access, CAUTION”

Cisco slipped through the door careful to keep the rock propping it open.

He looked around, “Harry?” He whispered.

“Over here,”

Harry was draped in shadow, leaned against a chimney. He held open arms to Cisco.

“You’re not worried we’re gonna get stuck up here?” Cisco asked as he got slowly closer

“You saying you wouldn’t want to be stuck up here with me?” Harry teased

Cisco laughed and then, finally, he was close enough that Harry pulled Cisco to him and they kissed, gravitating together like magnets.

***

Cisco returned to the party a little while later looking very red and with very messed up hair.

Cait quirked her head at him when he returned. “Where have you been? You look like you’ve been in a fight.”

Cisco gave her a small grin. “You should see the other guy,”

Cait narrowed her eyes at Cisco.

“You’re lucky you made it back in time for the count down.”

Harry and Cisco made eye contact from across the room. They were each pretty happy that they had gotten to steal away for a little while.

Cait and Cisco tried to maneuver themselves closer to where the action was happening.

Cisco lost sight of Harry in their move.

Suddenly they were counting down from thirty and Harry had come up right behind Cisco.

When the clock struck zero, Harry took Cisco by the arm and swung him around to face him. “Happy New Year, Cisco,” Harry whispered, and suddenly dipped Cisco low, kissing him deeply.

Cisco gasped but was thrilled by the most exciting New Years kiss he could imagine.

Harry stood them both back up and when they broke apart, he chuckled sheepishly as anyone who saw them, wolf-whistled and shouted. “I thought you were my secretary from behind! Your long hair!” Harry winked at Cisco who bit his lower lip, shaking his head at Harry’s sneakiness and terrible excuse.

Cisco touched his lips where they had kissed, only seconds before. “Honest mistake,” He said, eyes glaring daggers at Harry and Harry grinning like a lunatic. Halfway across the room Christina McGee looked a fraction more stressed out than she had already.

“Happy New Year, everyone!” Harry shouted and made off into the crowd.

Cait leaned over to whisper to Cisco. “He is something else.”

Cisco smiled and touched his lips, where Harry’s had just been. “You’re telling me.”

#harrisco #new years eve #nye #harrisco drabbles #this is silly but i had fun writing it!#so there's that #happy new year

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kurokoros · 5 years ago

Text

some like it hot (3/4) todoroki x reader x bakugou

Rated: M (smut)

Words: 8.5K

Pairing: shouto todoroki x fem!reader x katsuki bakugou

Summary: A Charity Fundraiser leads to you going home with not one, but two of the most popular Pro Heroes of your generation. They say some like it hot, and you certainly aren’t complaining.

AKA: a totally not self-indulgent threesome fic

Chapters: One | Two | Three | Four | AO3

AN: Only one chapter left after this!!!

warnings: semi-public makeouts, temperature play, teasing

Taglist: @kiaoizz, @sarahs-castle-of-clouds

You smooth out the silky fabric of your dress, biting your lip as you look down at yourself, making sure everything is in place. While no stranger to dressing up for events like this, you’ve been especially nervous about tonight, taking painstaking measures to find a dress you liked and make sure everything is as close to perfect as you can get it.

Chalking it up to the short notice, you ignore the little voice in the back of your head calling you a filthy liar. All week you’ve been waiting for tonight, and now that it’s almost here, you’re beginning to realize you’ve run out of excuses not to make a move on a pair of certain Heroes. The thought is both exciting and nerve-wracking, but you still have an entire night to get through first. An incredibly chaotic night of socializing and making sure none of your high school friends do anything such as, but not limited to, starting fights (Bakugou), setting off explosions (also Bakugou), or getting shitfaced on champagne (Kaminari).

Deciding not to dwell on everything that could possibly go wrong tonight, you take a deep breath and throw your bedroom door open. “What do you think?” you ask the girls sitting on your couch as you step back into the living room. Two pairs of eyes immediately latch onto you, and you hold your breath, waiting for the verdict.

You needed all the help you could get today, and who better to ask for fashion advice than two of your favorite ladies?

They react accordingly.

Mina gasps and nearly falls off the couch as she lurches forward with wide eyes. “Damn, girl, you look hot!” She makes a show of assessing you, dark eyes roaming over your silver dress and the places where it clings to you perfectly, sleeveless and cut with a deep v-neck.

While her reaction is more subdued, Momo’s smile is no less genuine when she sees what you’re wearing, and her lips twitch in clear amusement by the way Mina practically throws herself at you. “You look lovely,” she compliments, analyzing you. “The color brings out your eyes. And that dress is a good fit for you. It shows off your figure nicely.”

Mina is significantly less tactful.

“No bra?” Mina hums as she circles around you, eyeing the low swoop of your backless dress as a catlike smile spreads across her face. As she comes to a stop in front of you, she wiggles her eyebrows. “Very sexy,” she continues. “Classy! But definitely sexy. Bold too. I know a pair of certain someone’s that’ll like that.”

The blatant teasing makes you flush, and you huff in annoyance. “I already told you, I’m not thinking about that tonight.” Another lie. It’s the only thing you’ve been able to think about for the past week. Even more so since the other day.

The wicked smile on Mina’s face only grows. “Doesn’t mean they won’t be,” she practically sings. “Both of them already eye-fuck you all the time, but with this dress? Oof. Good luck!”

The wave of arousal that floods through you is as embarrassing as it is hot, and you already know you’re in for a long night. “Mina!”

Momo is quick to pull the cackling girl out of your reach before you can do something like strangle her. She sits Mina back down on the couch and smiles at you again, this time reassuring. “I’ll make sure she behaves tonight,” she promises.

The glare you’re throwing Mina softens when you turn to Momo, and you sigh, resisting the urge to rake your fingers through your carefully done hair. “Thank you. You’re a queen,” you say, making Momo blush faintly.

“So, is everything ready for tonight?”

Mina snickers at the hurried change in subject.

“Almost,” you tell her. “There are a few last minute things we have to take care of, but so far, everything is running smoothly.” Well, as smoothly as anything Pro Hero related can be. The hard part hasn’t even started yet. “Izuku should be picking me up anytime now so we can head over to the venue. You know how involved he likes to be.”

Smiling, Momo nods. “I’m sure everything will be fine,” she tells you, clasping her hands together in her lap. Already, you can feel yourself beginning to calm down at her gentle words. “You’ve been working very hard this week, so try to enjoy yourself tonight. You deserve to have fun after all of the planning you’ve done.”

If you weren’t painfully in love with two hot-headed idiots and she didn’t have a steady girlfriend, you’d marry Momo right now.

Alas. A pout forms on your face as you think about how tonight is probably going to go. “I wish.” You sigh. “You know how events like this can get. Someone has to play babysitter.” The last time the former students of Class 1-A were left unchecked at a massive event, a table burst into flames. You may not have proof of who did it, but you do have your suspects.

With a shake of your head, you smooth down the front of your dress one last time. “I’ll be right back,” you tell the pair sitting on your couch before hurrying back to your room. There’s still a few more things you need to get done before you leave.

You’ve just finished putting in an earring when you hear someone step into your room behind you. Glancing over your shoulder in the mirror, you spot Kyouka standing awkwardly in the doorway behind you. One of her earphone jacks is wound around her finger as she twirls it nervously. “Kyouka!” You smile as her eyes rise to meet your own. “Where’d you go?” you ask as you pick up your other earring, fiddling with it.

She bites her lip. “Denki called me,” she murmurs back, shrugging. When you nod in understanding, she sighs and takes a step further into your room, quietly closing the door behind her. “Hey… can we talk?”

Her unusually hesitant tone makes you freeze up. “Sure. What’s up?” You force your voice to stay steady, but fumble a little while putting in your earring. Whatever she has to say, it’s obvious you aren’t going to like it. Kyouka very rarely sugarcoats anything.

If Kaminari already did something stupid you’re going to go ballistic.

A sick knot forms in your stomach and you can practically feel the blood drain from your complexion as you’re faced with a million and one possibilities for things that have already potentially gone wrong.

It’s not until you turn around to face her directly that she continues. “I probably should have brought this up earlier, but you’ve been hard to track down lately.” Kyouka stops twirling her earphone jack and crosses her arms instead, leaning back against the door. “You know how Denki and I have weekly double dates with Mina and Kiri, right?”

“Yeah.” There’s a clear tinge of suspicion in your tone as you wait for her to continue. Your eyes narrow as you stare at Kyouka, trying to get a better read on her. She doesn’t seem apologetic like you’d expect her to be if this was about Kaminari. Instead she just seems… awkward.

A frown forms on her lips. “The other day, it was Denki’s turn to pick the place, and we went to some bar. Bakugou came with us because he was pissed about something. Kirishima wouldn’t tell us what exactly, but he mentioned that Bakugou dragged you off somewhere to talk.”

Your eyes widen as you realize what day she’s talking about. But that doesn’t make any sense. Izuku, Shouto, and Katsuki were supposed to be going out together that night. And Izuku didn’t mention anything about Katsuki bailing on him the other day at work.

“Kyouka, what are you…?” You leave the question hanging, not sure what you want to ask her.

She fidgets again. “Okay, try not to get mad at her, but Mina had a lot to drink and—”

The obnoxious sound of your ringtone for Izuku going off in your purse cuts her off.

“Shit.” You scoop your bag off of your dresser and fumble for your phone. “Sorry, it’s Izuku, I have to take this.” Offering Kyouka an apologetic smile, you finally manage to grab your still ringing phone, a dorky picture of Izuku smiling back at you.

Her eyes open wide. “Wait!”

But it’s too late. You’re already accepting the call and pressing your phone against your ear. “Hello?” you ask as you carefully tuck your phone between your shoulder and your ear, your eyes darting around in search of the strappy heels you chose for the night.

The chipper voice that greets you isn’t Izuku, but you aren’t surprised. “Hey!” Ochako practically sings from the other end of the line. “Izuku and I just got here! We’re waiting for you out front!” Izuku mumbles something in the background that’s too quiet for you to hear clearly, but it makes Ochako giggle cutely. “He says there’s no need to rush, but he wants to get to the venue as soon as possible.”

“You are?” Finally, you find your shoes sitting beside the door and sigh. “Okay. I’ll be down in just a minute. Thanks!” After Ochako chirps out a “see you soon!”, you hang up and smile apologetically at your friend. “Sorry, Kyouka, I have to go.” Scooping up your heels, you shove your phone into your clutch, a flurry of movement as you grab everything you’ll need to get you through this fundraiser. “I’ll see you at the gala, right? Tell me about whatever Mina did then. I’m sure everything will work out!”

Part of you feels bad for bailing midway through the conversation, but if it’s just about Mina, you’re almost positive everything will be fine. The girl may be a bit of a hot mess, but she tends to get herself out of trouble just as easily as she gets into it. Besides, there are a million other things you need to worry about right now.

Kyouka whirls around as you open your bedroom door, staring at your back with wide eyes. “No, wait, this is—” She tries again to make you listen, but you don’t hear her over the sound of Mina’s loud chattering coming from the living room.

“I'm leaving!” you call out to Mina and Momo as you struggle to slip on your shoes, hopping on one foot towards your apartment door. Frowning, you glance at your closet. Will it be cold enough for a jacket tonight? Should you risk it? Fuck it. “Lock up before you guys leave, okay?”

Mina twists around on the couch, practically draping herself across the back as she pouts at you. “No! Don’t go!”

“We’ll see you soon!” Momo calls back with a short wave. “I’ll be sure to lock the doors and turn off the lights!”

“You’re a lifesaver, Momo!” And with that, you throw open your apartment door and dart into the hallway.

“Wait!” Kyouka watches in absolute horror as your apartment door shuts behind you before she can finish. She runs her fingers through her hair and sighs. “Fuck.”

You’re pleasantly surprised by the turnout for the fundraiser. The venue rented for the evening is packed, filled with hundreds of Pro Heroes, both current and retired, as well as other extremely important people, and you’re practically giddy with excitement as you see so many familiar faces. The anonymous donations being shared on a large screen haven’t stopped going up since the first hour of the night. Nothing has been set on fire or exploded. And no massive fights have broken out between any of the Pro Heroes in attendance. So far, you’re considering tonight to be a win on your part, and you’re trying not to think of all the ways things could change horrifically in a matter of seconds.

Not wanting to linger on the sour thought, you glance at the men chatting beside you, a pair of former classmates from the UA business department like you. Admittedly, you’re hardly paying attention to anything they’re saying, more interested in people-watching from where you’re perched against one of the far walls. Business is the last thing you want to talk about tonight after the last week of planning and stressful conversations with dozens of people.

Besides, it’s absolutely more fun watching Izuku flit around the room like a hummingbird on crack as he tries to greet everyone. Seiji is following him around like a shadow, in awe of all the Pro Heroes in the room. It was you who suggested that Izuku bring the intern to the fundraiser, mostly because you thought the experience would be good for him, but also because you knew it would be amusing to watch him wander around like an adorable little puppy for a few hours.

You regret nothing.

Hiding your smile behind your glass of champagne, your eyes slowly sweep across the room, searching for two people in particular, though you try not to be obvious. Predictably, you find a striking pair of ruby eyes already staring at you from across the ballroom floor, and like every other time you’ve caught him staring tonight, Katsuki makes a show out of letting his eyes wander down the length of your dress.

It seems any subtlety he had has disappeared since the other day. There’s absolutely no hint of shame as he practically undresses you with his eyes, heedless of Kirishima and Kaminari chatting on either side of him. And you’re definitely not complaining.

How could you, when you’re eyeing him with an equally shameless frequency? It’s almost unfair how good he looks, with his tousled, spiky hair and the suit he’s wearing almost casually. Your eyes keep drifting down to his chest without your permission, the tanned skin revealed by the unbuttoned collar of his shirt nothing short of enticing. Katsuki’s suit jacket is left unbuttoned, his shirt half undone, and his hair is a predictably spiky mess, but he still looks like a goddamn model, leaning against the wall with one hand shoved into his pocket.

With just one glance, you know you’re in trouble tonight. All week, it’s been a struggle to ignore the fact that you want to jump him and Shouto, and with the fundraiser in full swing, you’re running out of excuses not to.

The thought is ripped away when a very flustered Seiji nearly crashes right into you.

You gasp, moving your glass of champagne away from your body. “Shit, you okay, Nakamura?” Quickly looking the intern up and down, you don’t spot anything of immediate concern. Frowning, you stare at him as he blushes and avoids your gaze, more jittery than usual. “Did Kaminari give you champagne?” you demand, eyes narrowing dangerously as your gaze snaps across the room to where your idiot friend is. “I swear to god, if he gave you champagne after I explicitly told him not to, I’ll—”

Seiji’s eyes widen in alarm and he rapidly shakes his head. “All Might is here,” he tells you, voice hushed like it’s a secret and you aren’t aware of the guestlist for the event you basically planned yourself. The poor boy is practically vibrating with a terrible concoction of excitement and terror. He glances over his shoulder in the direction he came from, and you catch a glimpse of Izuku and All Might chatting.

Not for the first time, you seriously start to question if this nervous student is your boss’s secret child from an illicit affair.

Your tone is dry when you say, “I’m aware.”

Seiji glances between you and the pair of Pro Heroes a little ways away, still shuffling nervously on his feet. “What do I do?”

“Well, you could talk to him,” you suggest, like a hypocrite. Instead of solving your own love life crisis with words, you’ve settled for eye-fucking Katsuki from across the room, which isn’t exactly productive, but oh well. “Go on.” You give Seiji a little push. “He doesn’t bite. Besides, I’m sure he’d love to meet Midoriya’s favorite intern.”

“I’m his only intern,” Seiji reminds you, a pout on his face.

You roll your eyes and give him another nudge towards Izuku and All Might, walking with him until you’re close only a few feet away. “A win by default is still a win. Now, get to it.”

He shoots you a dubious look, but does what he’s told, slinking over to Izuku’s side. As soon as your boss catches sight of his intern, a smile breaks out across his face, and he’s quick to grab the poor boy and all but throw him into All Might’s waiting arms.

Snorting, you prepare to head back to your old classmates and resume staring at Katsuki from across the room like a horny teenager.

Cold fingertips press against your bare back and you jolt, arching away from the freezing touch with a soft gasp. “Hello, love,” a deep and familiar voice murmurs against the shell of your ear before you can start to panic. Lips brush against your skin, and you can feel them pull into a smile. The nickname makes your heart swell.

Forcing yourself to relax again, you lean into his side as your attention shifts away from your boss, his old teacher, and his very frazzled intern. “How long have you been here?” You tilt your head back to peer up at him, already leaning back so that your shoulder is pressing against his chest.

Shouto shrugs. “Not long,” he tells you. Those grey and turquoise eyes lock with yours, and he begins to draw slow circles on your back with his thumb. “I was running late.”

When you shiver, you aren’t sure if it’s because of the fact that he’s touching your bare skin or because he might as well be using his quirk on you. “Issue at the agency?” you ask, tilting your head a little more to get a better look at him.

Fuck, he looks good tonight. Like Katsuki, he’s gone for a simple, black suit and white shirt. But where Katsuki already looks disheveled with his jacket wide open and the top buttons of his dress-shirt left undone, Shouto is presentable in a way that has you wanting to make him disheveled. His jacket is fitted, a single button holding it together in the front. And his tie. What you’d do to grab that carefully pressed tie and yank him down to you.

A devilish smirk tugs at Shouto’s lips, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking. “Something like that,” he says. His fingertips slide up your back, tracing the length of your back. “You look beautiful tonight.” A lick of heat shoots straight down your spine as those bicolored eyes wander down your torso, like he’s drinking in the sight of you.

That look in his eyes paired with the gentle brush of his fingers on your back does something funny to you, makes you a little giddy.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” And then, because you’ve already had a glass of champagne and you’re feeling bold tonight, you actually do hook your fingers around the loop of his tie and give it a little tug. A low sound leaves the back of his throat, but Shouto comes willingly.

He dips his chin, close enough for you to feel the heat from his breath fanning over your lips. “Thank you,” he murmurs back to you, voice low and teasing.

A few people glance your way, looking between you and the Pro Hero curiously, but you ignore them all, too wrapped up in the man in front of you to notice the curious looks and a few whispers.

(Across the room, Katsuki hides a smirk behind the rim of his champagne glass, only half-listening to Kirishima and Kaminari chatting beside him. Shouto’s eyes flick away from you for just a second and meet Katsuki’s, red and turquoise clashing, but there’s no animosity this time.)

Shouto’s fingers twitch against your back, and then with a low groan, he leans down. “Still willing to be my human shield?” he murmurs to you.

For a moment, you’re confused, until you see a tall figure making his way through the crowd, a familiar flaming beard and mustache making you roll your eyes. If he sets anything on fire, you’re going to dump a bucket of water over the bastard’s head. “Of course,” you whisper back, plastering a smile on your face as you fiddle with your champagne flute.

“Good.” Shouto squeezes your hip in a silent thanks, and you try not to think about how good the contact feels. “Here he comes.”

“Shouto!” Endeavor calls out as soon as he spots his son. “There you are, boy. I’ve been—” He cuts off as soon as he sees you standing there as well, Shouto’s arm still wrapped firmly around your back.

You don’t even bother to hide your smirk at the look of distaste that crosses the older man’s face. Your smile is all teeth. “Endeavor!” you greet him before he can say anything else to his son. Mock enthusiasm is practically dripping from you, and you think you see Shouto trying to hide a smile from the corner of your eye. “Thank you so much for coming tonight. It means a lot to the public to see the faces of so many former Heroes at events like this.” Endeavor’s expression sours at the word “former”, and you decide to lay it on thick. “And I’m sure Deku greatly appreciates your support even in your retirement.”

Distaste drips from his every word. “I’m sure.” Endeavor’s turquoise eyes don’t spare you a second glance as he turns to Shouto with a meaningful look. There’s a demand there. Something that screams we need to talk, and Shouto’s grip on your waist tightens. He stands a little straighter, shoulders tense, and his lips twist into an angry line as he clenches his teeth.

Oh, but you aren’t done yet. Shifting so that you’re slightly in front of Shouto, you loudly bring Endeavor’s attention back to you. “How have you been? It’s been a while. I don’t think I’ve seen you since your retirement party.”

Shouto squeezes your hip again.

Endeavor looks at you like he’d rather be anywhere else, but with dozens of other people nearby and cameras sure to be watching, there’s nothing he can do aside from play nice.

And that’s how you, in your attempt to take your role of human shield very seriously, end up chatting idly with Endeavor about work, the charity event, and whatever the hell he’s been doing in his free time now that he’s no longer a full time Pro Hero. Neither of you give a shit about the conversation, but you’re both too stubborn to end it first, and Endeavor is clearly waiting for you to leave so that he can talk to his son alone.

Yeah, not gonna happen.

The conversation is taking a turn towards the recent tsunami when Shouto shifts his hand.

A small sound escapes you as those cold fingers brush against your naked back again. The palm of his hand is pressed low on your spine, the tip of one finger barely teasing the low hem of your dress. Whatever you’d been about to say to Endeavor sticks in your throat, your brain stuttering to a halt as Shouto’s thumb lazily strokes your bare skin.

Your breathy sigh is too quiet for Endeavor to hear, but Shouto’s gaze snaps over to you. When he sees you shiver, his eyes widen. “We’ll talk later, Endeavor,” he cuts off his father, eyes still on you.

Shouto doesn’t stay to hear Endeavor respond, and the older man’s protests are lost in the crowd as Shouto carefully guides you away. His hand is still on your back, and his breath tickles your ear as he leans down. “Come with me?” After you nod, he adjusts his grip on you, casually leading you out of the ballroom and away from the crowd.

You end up letting him pull you into a low-lit room that you think might be someone’s office. It’s only then that he lets you go, and you shut the door behind you as he crosses the small space. You follow, but stop when you reach the desk centered in the room. Setting down your clutch and the empty champagne glass you’ve been holding, you lean back against the desk and watch him with a small frown.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, eyes following him as he comes to a stop with his back to you. “Shouto?” Did the brief conversation with Endeavor upset him this much? You don’t voice the question, waiting for him to speak.

His head snaps up and he looks at you over his shoulder. There’s something in his eyes that you can’t put a finger on, but it’s gone as suddenly as it was there. “No,” he says, turning around to face you. “Nothing’s wrong. I just…” he trails off, taking a step closer to you. “Thank you, for earlier.”

“It was nothing,” you tell him, smiling when he comes to a stop in front of you, near enough for you to reach out and touch him, but you force your hands to stay still at your sides, not wanting to scare him off. Maybe it’s the lighting or the proximity, but all you want to do is feel him closer.

As if he can hear your silent request, Shouto moves impossibly closer, until you can feel the warmth radiating from him. “It wasn’t nothing.” The words are firm and your eyes find him in the dark. His eyes are softer than you’ve ever seen them. “Not to me.”

Heart practically in your throat, your mouth goes dry as he places his hands on either side of your hips, pinning you between him and the desk behind you just like he did the other day in his office. “Sho?” His name comes out shaky, breathy, and the look in his eyes is filled with so much affection that it almost hurts to stare at for too long.

You’re reaching for him without a second thought. The palms of your hands come to rest on either side of his face, and he sighs as you pull him down. It tickles when his bangs brush against your skin as his forehead is pressed to yours, and your mouth quirks upwards at the sensation. Shouto’s breath fans across your lips, his nose bumps against yours, and your chest squeezes like he has a vice grip around your heart.

And maybe he does.

“I should have kissed you the other day,” he tells you, quietly so that you almost miss it. One of his hands grasps your hip, pulling you even closer. “I wanted to.” Your lips part wordlessly at his confession. Shouto tilts his head to press his lips against the palm of your hand. “There’s a lot I wanted to do.”

Your mouth is dry. “Oh?” you say, for lack of anything else. It’s all you can do to keep a stupid smile off your face. He’s always had a way of surprising you.

A chaste kiss is pressed to your cheek as Shouto hums, and it would be sweet if his lips didn’t brush against you ear as he says, “I wanted to bend you over the desk and make you beg me to fuck you.” The hand that squeezes around your hip only punctuates his statement. “Would you have liked that, love?”

He leans away from you, and your hands fall to his chest, grasping at the lapels of his jacket and his tie, anything to keep you grounded. The dim light in the room casts shadows over his face, but his eyes are bright and trained on yours, watching your reaction to the question.

Your thighs rub together beneath your dress in a poor attempt to soothe the ache already beginning to grow there. There’s no way you could deny just how much you would have liked that, considering how you thought about it, too. “Shouto,” you choke out his name, practically gasping it as his thumb brushes against your hip, causing ice to shoot through your veins. The silky tie he’s wearing is crushed between your fingers. You swear you can feel his heartbeat beneath your trembling fingers.

“You sound so pretty moaning my name,” he murmurs. His right hand snakes around your hips to press against your bare back, cold and hot all at once, and it’s too much for you.

“I—fuck.” The grip you have on his tie tightens further, and you yank him down to you without a second of hesitation, desperate to feel him against you.

And then your mouths meet in a kiss that’s sweeter than you imagined; it steals your breath, and you know the taste of his lips will linger on yours for days. Shouto’s palm presses against the small of your back, gently curving your chest against his until there’s no space left between you. His other hand trails up your spine slowly as your lips move against his, settling into a gentle rhythm.

Shouto cups the back of your neck. His hands slide over your bare shoulders, grip your hips, pull you closer and closer until there’s no space left between. You make a quiet sound of protest as his lips leave yours, only to gasp when his hands hook beneath your thighs and lift. You go willingly, gripping his shoulders as he sets you down on the desk. The silver dress you’re wearing is hiked up your hips, neither of you caring if the fabric is wrinkled, and the moan you make when his hands grab your thighs with wildly different temperatures is quickly cut off by a more heated kiss.

One of your legs loops around his hip to pull him closer, and you sigh once you feel his torso pressed against your own, little space left between you and him. Shouto’s hands smooth across your bare legs, drinking in the feel of your soft skin beneath his palms where he hasn’t been allowed to touch you before. The flashes of heated skin and frozen fingers have gasps and sighs spilling from your mouth, every sound quickly swallowed by him. His thumb brushes against the hem of your panties, and you fumble with the top button of his shirt, wanting nothing more than to rip the fabric away.

His mouth leaves yours with a lewd, wet sound, and then his teeth are scraping across the side of your throat, his tongue flicking out to taste you. Your tilt your head for him, your eyes fluttering shut as he presses butterfly kisses from your neck to your exposed collarbone, then slowly works his way back up to your cheek.

Another chaste kiss is stolen, and you can’t fight back a giggle. Shouto smiles against your mouth.

It’s a flurry of motion as the two of you kiss in the half-lit room, the only sounds the heavy breathing shared between the two of you and the gentle thrum of muffled music coming from the ballroom. Your hands are shaky when they cup the back of his neck and play with his hair. Your heart pounds in your chest, threatening to leap straight into his.

“Shouto,” you gasp against his ear as his lips find a sensitive spot just below your jaw. Deciding he likes the sound, he nips at the spot and lets his tongue draw slow circles over it until you’re squirming. Nonsensical praises and please keep falling from your mouth as his mouth meets your neck and sucks. He seems determined to work a hickey onto your throat, teething at you until your nails are raking down the back of his jacket.

Your eyes snap open wide as the door to the office clicks and is shoved open unceremoniously. Your stomach drops. A jolt of panic shoots straight through you, but Shouto doesn’t let you turn your head to investigate, apparently unconcerned with whoever just walked in on the two of you. In fact, it only seems to spur him on as he nibbles at your neck.

Flustered, you’re about to push him away when the new arrival speaks.

“Starting without me, you icy hot bastard?”

Oh. It’s Katsuki. Excellent. You aren’t sure what you should be feeling considering one of the guys you like just walked in on you making out with the other guy you like, but you’re pretty sure that hot burst of arousal that goes right to your core isn’t it. Though, you’re certainly not complaining.

Neither is the man currently dragging his tongue across the hickey on your neck.

Shouto nips at your throat one final time before pulling back. “You were taking too long,” he tells Katsuki before blowing cold air against the wet skin on your neck. Shuddering, your back arches, your chest pressing tighter against his. A pleased hum leaves Shouto at your reaction, and his right hand slides up your side to palm your breast as he stares at the pretty little mark he left on you.

The cold thumb that brushes against your nipple has you mewling, and he squeezes the thigh you have hooked around his hip.

“Got caught up with that damn nerd,” Katsuki grumbles, kicking the door shut again. You hear the lock twist, and Shouto finally lets you look at Katsuki. Hungry, ruby eyes meet yours and a roguish smile crosses his face. “How ya doin’, angel?” he asks casually, raking his eyes down your quivering body and settling on your thighs where Shouto has your dress hiked around your hips. His tongue sweeps across his lower lip before he pushes away from the door and walks towards you and Shouto.

You should probably stop Shouto as his lips move to your jaw and his fingers slip beneath your dress to touch your breast directly, but those freezing fingers pinching and rolling over your nipple are making it hard to think. “I—I’m good,” you tell him, watching Katsuki until he disappears behind you. “Want to let me in on whatever it is you guys are up to?”

By now, you have a pretty good idea what’s going on, but you still want to make sure that all three of you are on the same page here. It dawns on you suddenly exactly what Kyouka was trying to tell you earlier, and you aren’t sure if you should be pissed at Mina or thank her later.

The pair of hands that grab your hips have you leaning towards a massive thank you. “Come on, sweetcheeks.” Katsuki scoffs and leans down to nip at your ear. “You’re smarter than that.” Greedy fingers squeeze your hips before he lets go of you with one hand.

“Maybe I want to hear you say it,” you huff as he grabs your hair none too gently and tilts your head to his liking. Katsuki’s lips meet your jaw at the same time Shouto tugs at your nipple again. The cold has you painfully sensitive already, and you can’t help but squirm between them. Your fingernails drag against Shouto’s back and he grunts in approval.

Katsuki just clicks his tongue. “You wanna fuck or talk, babe?”

Someone’s chatty tonight. You roll your eyes at his sass. Meanwhile, Shouto is making better use of his mouth, content to let you and Katsuki bicker as his lips peruse your skin.

Because you really don’t want to give Katsuki the satisfaction of shutting you up, you opt to keep talking. “Mina told you what I said, didn’t she?” you ask as he places a series of rough, wet kisses along your jawline. “And, apparently, you told Sho.” At the sound of his name, Shouto nips at the swell of your breast and spreads your legs wider until his hips are pressed flush to yours.

“You complainin’?”

“No.” You arch your back and press your chest more firmly into Shouto’s palm when Katsuki’s hand reaches down to grope your ass. Figures he’d be an ass man. “But I was going to wait until after the party to bring this up.” You’re a little surprised they managed to coordinate this in such a short timeframe, but you know how determined they can be when they put their minds to something.

Apparently, all it takes to get them to work together is the thought of a threeseome. That’s something you’ll definitely be filing away for later.

Cheeky bastard that he is, Katsuki latches onto that after. “Oh?” he drawls, smirking against your cheek. “You been thinking about this awhile?”

“All week,” you admit with a gasp as Shouto heats up the hand on your thigh and begins to knead. Your hips roll forward against his, and he swears and mumbles your name under his breath. “Thank the girls for that. They’re the ones that told me to go for it. I was content to just keep pining.”

Katsuki buries his face against your hair and gives your ass a squeeze. “Shoulda said something sooner, babe. I’ve been thinking about fucking this tight little ass for years.”

White hot arousal coils in your belly as the admission hits you right between your thighs. You shiver at the thought.

“Of course, you have. Pervert.”

When Katsuki chuckles, it’s deep and mocking. “I’m not the one that wants to get fucked by two cocks, angel,” he whispers in your ear. Before you can fire something back at him, your head is pulled back roughly and his lips find yours in a bruising kiss.

Unlike with Shouto, there’s nothing gentle about the way Katsuki’s mouth moves against yours. From the beginning, it’s nothing but intense passion that has you moaning against him. He takes control of the kiss quickly, all teeth and tongue as he latches onto your bottom lip and tugs. He gropes at your ass again, pulling your dress out of the way to grab at your bare skin. The waistband of your panties snap against your skin as he slips a finger beneath the silk and lace, and when you gasp, his tongue slips into your mouth to taste you.

It’s almost too much happening at once between Katsuki at your back and Shouto mouthing at your collarbones. Both of his hands are on your thighs now, his fingertips drawing nonsensical shapes on your already sensitive skin, the temperature alternating rapidly between hot and cold.

When Katsuki finally pulls away so that you can breathe, you grab Shouto’s shoulders with shaky hands, trying to steady yourself. His gaze flicks up to meet yours. You wet your lips and he follows the movement with his eyes. “Shouto. Are you okay with all of this?”

Slowly, Shouto pulls his mouth from your breast. His palms smooth over your thighs as he straightens to his full height, staring down at you. “Are you?” he asks softly, his right hand leaving your thigh to cradle your cheek. As he watches your expression, his thumb traces the high point of your cheekbone.

Nodding, you let your hands slide down to his chest, where you fist your fingers in his shirt, uncaring as you wrinkle the fabric. “Yeah,” you whisper, the room suddenly quiet. Katsuki has stopped moving behind you, listening carefully to what you’re saying. “I want you. Both of you.”

Shouto’s small smile at your admission is blinding. “Good.”

He leans down to press a chaste kiss to your temple, then your cheek, and you giggle as he finally finds your lips. Katsuki scoffs and mumbles something that sounds like “saps”, but you can hear the fondness behind the half-hearted insult.

Shouto’s kiss is hungrier than before, his lips hot and dominating against your own. A trail of fire follows in his wake, and you tremble as his thumb brushes the juncture of your thigh and pelvis, just inches from where you want him. The hand cradling your face drops back to your thigh, holding your legs open easily. You can feel him against your thigh, hard and hot, and you tilt your chin to kiss him harder, your lips moving eagerly beneath his. An ache forms in the pit of your stomach as he parts your lips to kiss you deeper.

One of your hands disentangles from his shirt and slides to the back of his neck, where you grip his red and white hair and pull. A low sound tears from his chest and he grunts against your lips, the noise smothered. Your thighs clench around his hips.

Behind you, Katsuki begins to move again, his hands running over your naked back and slipping beneath your dress to squeeze your waist. A whimper falls from your lips as Katsuki suddenly gropes your breasts and rolls your nipples between his fingers. He chuckles at your reaction and removes his hands just as quickly. Instead, his mouth finds the back of your neck and shoulders, his teeth immediately finding a spot that has you shuddering in delight.

As Shouto starts to pull away, you jolt forward to steal another kiss, nipping at his bottom lip. The low moan that escapes from Shouto as your teeth press against his skin is nothing short of beautiful, and your tongue slides across his lip to soothe the sting.

Before you can lean back, Shouto breathes a teasing stream of cold air into your mouth that chills you from the inside out.

The cold is chased away by the hot fingers that stroke the front of your damp panties. Another choked moan falls from you as Shouto’s thumb traces slow circles around your clit. “You’re so wet already,” he murmurs, watching as your back arches and your face twists with pleasure. Your thighs twitch around him.

The air in the room is stifling and warm, and it’s hard to breathe between Katsuki sucking a bruise against your neck and Shouto’s fingers working magic between your thighs. You barely manage to choke out, “Like either of you can talk.”

You roll your hips against Shouto’s for good measure, feeling the outline of his cock through his dress pants. Katsuki is no better with his hard length pressing up against your ass.

Shouto’s thumb presses harder against your clit and you gasp. “Shouto!” You squirm against his fingers as he continues to tease your clit, chuckling at the frustrated sound you make. You’re practically dripping already. “Please.”

“Please what?” he goads, continuing his slow torture on your sensitive nerve endings.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was trying to kill you right now. Each touch is only making you more aroused. The knot in your stomach keeps coiling tighter and tighter, and you’re almost embarrassed to think about how close you are to coming already.

Shouto’s teasing is cut short by a very impatient Katsuki. “Oi, Icy Hot,” he growls as his mouth rips away from your neck. Red eyes glare at Shouto over your shoulder, and Shouto’s gaze slides to Katsuki’s in annoyance. “Hurry up and fucking do something or I will.”

To punctuate his statement, Katsuki reaches around you to squeeze your breast.

Rolling his eyes, Shouto ignores Katsuki and leans in so that his breath is fanning over your face. “We’re gonna make you feel good, love,” he says, just as the fingers rolling over your clit switch hands. The freezing temperature makes you cry out, your thighs trying to snap shut around Shouto’s arm, but you’re blocked by his hips and the strong hand that pins your leg to the desk.

“Damn right,” Katsuki chuckles behind you.

The next few minutes are a blur of hands and mouths. They’re always touching you: grabbing and squeezing your sides and hips, teeth nipping at your neck, chests pressing against you. It makes you dizzy with lust. In the haze settling around the three of you, you manage to tear open Shouto’s jacket and untuck his shirt. A button flies by and bounces off the desk, but none of you give it a second glance. A sigh leaves your lips as your hands slip beneath the hem of his shirt, skimming over the defined muscles of his torso that you’ve seen plenty of times but never gotten to touch.

It’s even better than you could have imagined.

A loud bang from outside the room is what causes the three of you to pull apart.

You’re panting, dizzy from the heat and lack of oxygen, and you shiver as cold air caresses the wet spot on the side of your neck that Katsuki was laving attention to. Chest heaving, your gaze snaps to the door. You flush as you realize how much of a wreck you must look with your hair disheveled and your dress hiked up your thighs.

Shouto and Katsuki aren’t much better with their heavy breathing and swollen lips. Your hands have made a mess of Shouto’s hair, and you’ve worked his dress shirt half-way unbuttoned, revealing inches of his bare chest that you want to lean in and lick. His tie is askew, crooked and loose from your tugging. Having been behind you, Katsuki was spared from the brunt of your grabby hands, but that’s something you’re definitely going to fix later.

Another sound from out in the hallway has Katsuki swearing under his breath. His eyes narrow in irritation as he peels his hands away from you. You’re pretty sure he’s pouting over the interruption, and you would roll your eyes if you weren’t completely frozen over the thought of getting caught sandwiched between two incredibly hot Pro Heroes. Pun intended.

The doorknob rattles as the sound of giggling and a low, husky voice come from the other side of the door. A pair of shadows move across the bottom of the door, blocking out the thin sliver of light from the hallway. You don’t recognize the voices on the other side, but you aren’t willing to take the chance that they might know you.

Thank fuck Katsuki locked the damn door behind him.

The three of you stand there frozen in silence until the couple in the hallway give up and move onto the next empty room they can find. Your heart doesn’t stop racing until their footsteps disappear, and you’re only mildly embarrassed at the little thrill that runs through you at the thought of almost getting caught.

Sighing, Shouto squeezes your thigh and drops his head onto your shoulder. A sweet kiss is pressed against the side of your throat, and your leg tightens around his hip, accidentally pulling him closer. You can’t help but flush when you feel a very prominent bulge pressing against the inside of your leg, and Shouto’s responding groan has heat pooling in your stomach all over again.

A scoff makes you glance over your shoulder at a fuming Katsuki. “Damn shitty extras,” he grumbles, still glaring at the door. Oh, yeah. Definitely pouting.

“What have we said about calling people extras?” you ask automatically, rolling your eyes at his childish anger. You’ve told him at least one hundred times to stop calling people extras because it’s rude.

His response is immediate. “It’s impolite and makes me look like an egotistical fuck.” Close enough.

You don’t reply. Katsuki is still glaring at the door and grumbling under his breath. And Shouto’s half-hard cock is still pressed against your thigh, so you don’t dare move, even though the stupid, horny part of your brain is begging you to wrap your legs around his waist and grind your hips against his.

Eventually, Shouto leans away from you and takes a half-step back. Blue and grey eyes lock on yours through his messy red and white bangs. “What now?” he asks, glancing at Katsuki for a second before turning right back to you. He squeezes your thigh again, thumb rubbing slow, soothing circles against your leg.

Shouto’s pupils are dilated, blown wide with lust, and you think he’d probably fuck you right here and now if you gave him permission to.

A pair of hands latch onto your hips from behind and a firm chest presses against your back. “I can think of something fun.”

You roll your eyes, but don’t stop his hands from slipping back under your dress and teasing your sides. “We are not having sex here, Katsuki,” you state firmly, fighting to keep your voice even as a rough hand palms your breast. Your back arches anyway. “Did you already forget that we almost just got caught?” It’s hard to sound reprimanding when he pinches your nipple and has you sighing.

“What?” Katsuki chuckles and leans down to nip at the back of your neck. “That turn you on, angel?”

You don’t have to turn around to picture the stupid smirk on his face as he teases you.

Maybe it’s the champagne from earlier making you loose-lipped, or the fact that you just made out with both of them and almost got caught, but you’re feeling a little braver than usual. “Absolutely,” you admit, startling both Katsuki and Shouto with your blunt answer. “But I don’t exactly need any of the people I work with seeing me naked.”

If Izuku walked in on this, you’re pretty sure he’d never be able to look any of you in the eye again. And if Seiji, god forbid, walked in on this, you’d have to change your name and move to another country all together.

At the mention of anyone else seeing you like this, Shouto’s grip on you grows a little tighter. His eyes narrow, and there’s a possessive edge to his low voice when he says, “Agreed.” His warm hand slides up your thigh until his fingers are brushing against the silky hem of your panties.

You swallow a pleased sound. “Besides,” you glance from Shouto to Katsuki, “my apartment isn’t far.” If this is going to happen tonight, you’re going to take your time with them, and you definitely can’t do that here.

A snort. “Cowards.”

“I thought you wanted to fuck my ass, Katsuki?” you tease, rocking your hips back against his as much as you can. “The lube is at home.”

That catches both boys’ attention.

Katsuki lets go of you and practically shoves you forward into Shouto’s arms; Shouto grunts as he catches you with ease, his expression nothing short of amused as he grabs your clutch off the desk. Gently, he sets you back down on your heels, your legs shaky beneath you.

“Fuck, let’s go!” Katsuki barks at the two of you, already stomping towards the door. “Now!”

#todoroki shouto x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader x todoroki #todoroki x reader x bakugou #todoroki shouto #bakugou katsuki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha #fic: some like it hot

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beyoncesdragon · 4 years ago

Text

Cause a scene (Poe Dameron)

Requested: NO

Warnings: just some cursing, jealous drama queen Poe and him being a tiny bit too okay with PDA

Summary: Poe’s not one to be too possessive, he knows his place. It just seems as if one of the newbies does not know his place and Poe is pretty much determined to set that and some other things straight.

A/n: i’ve got this idea whilst pretty much gushing about angry poe in that particular scene with the lovely @damnyoudameron I hope you enjoy it! She’ll probably release something similar too, so make sure to check her work out if you have time:) all the love<3

My Masterlist

Of course he had no right to be jealous, he knew that. It wasn’t like the two of you were dating, whether officially or unofficially. Certainly, you flirted like your life depended on it and you sure as hell were all over each other all the time – but you weren’t really a thing.

Yet he had been pretty sure that he had gotten his point across that you were not to be approached by anyone because quite frankly, you were his and the other way around. And Poe didn’t wanted to be a possessive lover – again, he wasn’t even your lover at last – and he knew that you weren’t really his even if you were an item…but he couldn’t help himself at times. Same thing with jealousy: even though Poe knew that he wasn’t in the place to be jealous, whenever he saw you with Brody, his jaw tightened and he had to either look away or leave the room. Brody was new at the resistance, a newbie and still quite green. He’s been assigned to Poe’s unit as Blue five (a thing Poe was at odds since the beginning of time) and served and flew under Leia’s (and ultimately Poe’s command) for a month now. And when Poe was an understanding and patient commander, known for not only his tendencies to do the opposite of the task given but also caring greatly for his squadron, he found himself struggling to cope with the newest addition to the team. The problem was not that Brody was one to talk back when he absolutely wasn’t in position to do so – though it obviously contributed to the loathing Poe felt against the man – but also the constant complaining about certain things. He seemed to know better about maneuvers, formations, weak spots of TIE-Fighters, tactics and even X-Wings at times. Constantly talking about the importance of not overheating the compressor system or the cryogenic power generator, when Poe clearly couldn’t give a shit less about that. Sure, an exploding power generator wouldn’t be fun, but Poe would surely not stop on some foreign planet just to check the eventual bad state of a generator. Either the whole thing blew up in his face or it did not, and as long as BB-8 or any another astrodroid didn't report on anything, overheated power plants were not Poe's biggest concerns. Especially not when hunting down a bunch of TIE-Fighters in the vast blackness of space.

True hatred for the fellow pilot had however only truly sparked when that annoying prick started to notice you, as you worked your way through every X-Wing after the landings. The quick check-ups with your team were not only a necessity but also where you could spend some quality time teasing the hell out of Poe. And he loved it, every snarky remark and cheeky wink you gave him, every smile and silent eyeroll of yours. It had went so far that you usually approached Black One first, letting your team take over the rest before you moved on to Oddy or Jessika. You had even started to teasingly call his X-Wing your very own child and always made sure to scold him about damages and dents he brought home. Like a caring mother you always patted the titanium alloy, giving Poe a disapproving look whenever you discovered a new scratch in the black ferrosphere paint. He’d always grin and either wrap his arms around you, or flee from your unbridled rage whenever he had completely messed up the shields again. Not that you would actually hit that mischievous little bastard, you’d admittedly died every time he took off and prayed for his return.

After all, Poe Dameron had an effect on you, like he had on every one, varying from never ending annoyance (definitely General Organa), hatred (the first order), a headache (Leia again), admiration (literally the whole hangar and piloting community) to faster beating hearts and sneaky glances (all the female and some male members of the resistance). And as much as you hated to admit it, the latter definitely applied to you.

When first you had tried to brush his flirting and compliments off, telling yourself that he basically did this with everyone, you too had soon sensed a change. The flirty comments became more recent and you were distinctively often aimed at you and you only, he had his eyes on you across the cantina or walked you to your dorm. He waited for you after lunch to take a walk like you mostly did, never let his X-Wing get checked by anyone but you. He had the habit of staring off people, wordlessly telling them to back up and not approach you ever. His hands were always somewhere on you, resting on your lower back, around your shoulders, in your hair, around your waist or his pinkie linked with yours. Now, Poe’s always been a touchy one, but when even your friends started to point out how incredibly handsy he was with you, you began to wonder. Maybe even hope, a bit.

Especially when he started to display some slight jealous behaviour whenever you talked to other guys longer than he found necessary. Not that he ever said it out loud, his body language just spoke for itself: straight back, tensed shoulders and a muscle in his jaw constantly clenching and unclenching. To your own amusement he always stayed quiet until the end before either walking over and dragging you to his X-Wing for some “changes and stuff” or wrap his arms around you somehow, indicating the conversation to be over now.

It was no surprise then when as Brody started to chat you up after missions, he was ready to flip a table.

He couldn’t believe his eyes when one day after another successful mission, the one person he disliked the most had the audacity to prevent you from coming over to him first. Smoothly pulling you into a conversation and swiftly distracting you from your intention to walk over to the now fuming commander first.

He was charming, you had to admit that. His attempts on hitting on you by complimenting your skills and whatnot didn’t go unnoticed by you, though they had little to no effect on you. Firstly because you sure as hell didn’t needed any confirmation from some newly recruited pilot, you knew your profession and your shit, besides, you were leading your team not because of luck. Secondly, as charming as Brody may seemed to be, you did have your eyes on someone else. Someone who’s wit and charm outmatched the blonde’s by far. But he was nice and you acknowledged that and saw no reason to treat him any different.

Quite the opposite of Poe actually, who was totally ready to smash in his control screens with Brody’s face, to get your attention back again.

After ten minutes of jealously waiting for you to finally come and check up on his ship, he decided to just simply get you himself. After all, he was the commander and he wanted you to himself for at least five minutes before having to share you with some irritating asshole again.

When you had seen him approach, your eyes lit up immediately, much to his satisfaction. You’d placed the clamp down immediately and met him halfway with a warm hug.

“Hello there flyboy.” Your voice muffled by his flying suit and arms still around his torso, he felt a wave of relief flooding though him.

“Evening love.” He had only managed to whisper before gently letting go to inspect your face. “You good?” he earned an eyeroll for that one comment. “Me? Which one of us just returned from a deadly mission from space? You or I? I should be asking that question, dumbass.”

Long story short: the two of you were cute, and everybody knew and shared that opinion. Everyone except maybe Brody, who had a knack of ignoring the obvious and after similar episodes of him simply trying to snatch you away from Poe, Poe actively despised him.

So when he caught the two of you around one of the large holo-tables, after a mission that had been demanding anyways, he simply snapped. He’s already had a long day, he was already a bit needy for you especially after you had spent a ridiculously short time at his X-Wing. And when Brody rose his arm to place it softly around your waist, he saw red. That was the last straw and he was ready to strangle that fucking know here and there.

“Poe?” Finn sounded alarmed as Poe rushed past him, his eyes following his friends burning gaze to you. He immediately understood and extended an arm towards him, trying to hold the furious man back.

“Poe hold on a minute…” he tried, finding it hard to sound somehow like Leia, knowing about her being one of two people having the actual power to stop Poe from something. Though, not even Leia could, not always. The only one to truly control his extremely impulsive friend was you, and you were occupied right now.

“Let’s not have a scene now, yeah?” he tried again, Poe’s sleeves slipping from his fingers as the pilot angrily continued his way towards the two of you.

“No, let’s.” his voice was hoarse of anger and jealousy as he finally reached you. Eyes ablaze and fist clenched, and everybody made sure to stay out of his way.

“Y/N…” his voice made you snap around, immediately seeing it as an opportunity to shrug off Brody’s hands that had again settled on your waist. You turned around to Poe, eyes wandering over him with an amused sparkle in your eyes. He had already changed into a dark leather jacket, similar to yours actually and a greenish shirt. His hair was curled unruly still, single strands of black hair falling into his stern face.

And, you had never seen Poe so tensed up and ready to eventually riot, and you would lie if saying that it wasn’t attractive. With his eyes basically burning a hole into Brody and he hands clenched tightly he radiated the energy of a panther about to snap.

“Engine’s down again.” He only pressed out, his mind not even bothering to make up a good explanation why he was prone to end this conversation now. “Really? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” You asked, in wide eyed innocence. “Forgot about it. BB-8 just reminded me.” He muttered, getting momentarily distracted by you adjusting his jacket.

“Poe Dameron. When will you finally stop wrecking my beloved ship?” you mused, looking up at him with a twisted smile.

“Probably happened during that one moment when we split formations. In my opinion a tactical error, clearly that only…” Poe growled lowly, tensing up again and you quickly placed a hand on his chest.

“Oh yeah?” he snapped, his whole hatred against Brody laced with his spat out words. You raised to your tiptoes trying to get Poe’s attention back on you. It worked, but only for a split seconds, until Brody decided to open his mouth again and broadcast his wisdom.

“Yeah, every child knows that TIE’s attack in squadrons and therefore have the strength in blasting away a whole squadron easily. There is protection in a crowd, that also applies to the rules of space…” “The rules of space? That if an X-Wing explodes next to yours, the flying scrap simply goes around your engines in the process of getting hurled through space? Are those your rules of space? By staying close you literally endanger the whole goddamn team you fucking…” you simply reached for his hand, silencing him quickly.

“What the fuck do you see in him.” he hissed under his breath, eyes darting down to you whilst Brody was trying to actually argue about that now. You sighed softly.

When you were highkey amused and smug about Poe’s obvious jealously, it bugged you that he actually believed you could feel anything more than mere friendship towards Brody. Not only because you literally had Poe Dameron around you twenty-four seven, but also because he just wasn’t your type. You were sure that there were people who were into lean, know it all, messy blond dudes with buzzcut, it just wasn’t your piece of cake.

Your eyes trailed over his angry face again. You made another attempt by carefully brushing over Poe’s jacket again, trying to flatten out wrinkles and just generally calm him down. You knew him well enough to know that if you couldn’t distract him soon, he’d have his hand at Brody’s throat in no time. Not that you could really blame him for it though.

Poe almost immediately reacted to your touch, shoulders slumping down a tiny bit. His hand finally found his place on your waist, his touch letting chills run through your body. You reached up to his neck, adjusting the thin silver chain with the ring that had caught itself in the collar of his jacket. He shivered softly at your touch and you couldn’t help but grin softly at his hyperawareness of your fingers on his soft skin.

“Let’s check up on my baby then.” You said softly, innocently tilting your head at him. The way you said it insinuated the possibility of you not only talking about the black starfighter but perhaps…Poe let out a breath he had not been aware of holding, looking down at you.

“Make sure to come back quickly after that. The conversation was just about to get good!” Brody winked with a laugh and Poe…it was enough, definitely and finally enough. Without hesitating a second, he cupped your face with both of his hands before smashing his lips down on yours. You froze for a second, overwhelmed and surprised by Poe’s sudden snap of character, but you quickly recovered and returned the kiss eagerly. After all, it was long overdue. A fire danced from his lips to yours, the warmth and neediness of his lips sending shivers down your spine. He bit down on your lip just lightly, enough to make you gasp softly and part you lips. But it was enough for him to quickly sweep over your bottom lip with his tongue as if to ask if you were okay with that. Of course you were, it took you a millisecond to grant him access and deepen the kiss. You could almost feel him smile against your lips before he backed off suddenly, looking satisfied and smug as ever. Then his gaze hardened, falling on Brandon again.

“We’ll see about that.” And with that he turned around, hands still on your waist and making sure that finally everyone knew, to who the hell you belonged to.

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