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mingi-s-dimples · 4 months ago

Text

splash of desire - wooyoung

pairing: enemy & teammate!wooyoung x fem!reader

rating: 18+ (filth)

genre: enemies to lovers, filthy smut (mdni ty)

summary: your captain makes you share a room with your death enemy, who also happens to be your teammate.

WC: 3.1k

warnings: non idol au, dystopian (strictland), brat dom!wooyoung x even brattier!reader, cocky!wooyoung, cursing, cussing out, threats (once or twice, death threat once and knife once), size kink, shower sex, overstim, orgasm control, ruined orgasm (twice f), oral (m), foreplay (f & m), blowjob, choking (both by dick and by hand), handjob, hair pulling, pet names ( ), making out, deepthroating, slight dacryphilia, one scene with pleading/begging, completely consensual, unprotected (booo use protection irl!!!), death enemies to lovers, completely unedited & might edit later, totally forgot to mention something.

Author's Note: Enemies to lovers... shower sex AND Wooyoung? give me 14 thank you. I wrote this in ONE DAY... like 4 hours or something? I think it took me longer to actually re edit/write the entire fic rather than initially writing it 😭. My utmost fave part was when Wooyoung said he wouldn't back off if he kissed her !?!??! I'm afraid I'm in love with how I wrote this fic keisjs (I always say this). Anyways, enjoy my fic ! 🫶🏻 (also I'm on the rollll I'm still on vacation LMAO I got really bored.. and horny so, once again, enjoyyy) - wrote this together w my bestie, she chose a plot - i only had the smut in mind upsi - tysm Lis for helping me ajisebs love youuu .

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction & does not represent in any way the reality of the member.

You were apart of ATEEZ, a well known group of outlaws, rebelled against the Strictland Government. They were some.. entities, which distrupted the initial normal world with all of their activities. Hongjoong, your captain, suddenly decided to part the whole team on small groups, of 2 people, because the latest mission almost failed tragically. He thought that it happened because we were too many in the same place. In the end, he chose Wooyoung to team up with you and.. neither of you were happy about it. In fact, you started bickering with both Hongjoong and Wooyoung, because for some reason Hj thought that you's be better off on a mission with Woo. Little did he know that you'd actually kill him even before the mission started if you had the chance.

You looked at Hj in disbelief.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN I AM ON MISSION WITH WOOYOUNG?"

You let out a heavy sigh, giving a piercing stare to Wooyoung.

"WHY HIM, OUT OF ALL PEOPLE? Captain. Please... please... put me on another team.." you said pleading, almost begging Hongjoong, but to no avail.

"Nope, end of discussion. You are going to do as I said. You both have one hour to prepare and pack things. I already made a reservation for a hotel hot too far from here. We gotta stay united but not in the same place, it's too risky."

"Guess we'll need to tolerate each other, y/n. I won't try to kill you, I promise." Wooyoung said, giving you the death stare with a smirk.

Hongjoong left the room, giving you a stare. He tried so hard not to burst out laughing, knowing you were pissed at him for pairing you with Wooyoung.

And here you were, in your own, nice and little room... but private. In 2 hours you were gonna live with your death enemy, which happened to also be your teammate, in the same hotel room. Ironic, isn't it? How much you hated him, his face, his cocky and bratty attitude. Everything about him made you curse at him on a daily basis. But now, you were gonna be closer to him than ever. You didn't even know what to say about it... you were just.. in disbelief.

*2 hours later*

"Oookay guys. Here is your room, you only have one bed tho, we can't afford a bigger room for now. Please don't fight, don't try to kill each other and please, for fucks sake, don't bomb the place. Enjoy your time" Hongjoong said, letting out a small chuckle.

He knew sth you didn't know.

"Okay. Dissappear, please. I don't want to see you this early in the morning." you said to Wooyoung, staring him down. You took a cigarette out of your pocket and lit it, going om the balcony to ease your mood.

"We both know you love me, y/n, don't act like this" He said teasingly, approaching you slowly.

"Fuck you, don't piss me off. Go away! " you said, pushing him away.

"Fine. I'll be in the room if you need me" he whispered.

"Fuck off you bitch" you whisperer, not letting him hear you.

You took your phone out of the pocket and dialed Hongjoong.

"Joong please! I can't live with this brat! We've been in the same room for 3 minutes and we already started bickering! Please change the layout... " you pleaded.

But you didn't hear anything. Instead, he hung up in you, giving you the final answer.

"Oh cmon, you fucker" you said to yourself.

*several minutes later*

You decided to go back in the room after smoking quite a few cigarettes. After all, you were trying to distract yourself from the situation.

But it didn't last long.

"Huh? where the fuck did he go?"

"Well, better for me, I won't see his face for a while. Maybe he's planning to kill me? I wouldn't be surprised"

You later decided to go take a shower to ease your muscles after the mission you had 2 days ago, but to your surprise and horror.. you met Wooyoung's gaze in the hall, right besides the bathroom's door. He was halfway naked, t-shirt on the floor and only in his briefs. You were trying to look away but.. froze. You stared him from head to toe, stopping at his collarbones, then at his waist... his underwear. He was.. packing.

"For fucks sake, Wooyoung! What are you doing?" you finally said, after eye fucking him for a long minute.

"What does it look like I'm doing? Chill, I wanted to take a shower. Unless you wanna join me?" he said laughing, but seeing your flustered face made his gaze darken.

"Oh.. maybe you want to join me after all, judging from your stare, hm?" he said, approaching you.

"Fuck off! Don't you touch me, what the fuck!" you said and slapped him, looking horrified in his eyes at what you just did. You always bickered and fought with him but never in your right mind thought about hitting him.

"Ouu, feisty." he said and slammed your wrists to the wall, right above you.

"The fuck are you doing?!" you said trying to escape his grip but to no avail. He was strong.. and besides being strong you made him mad.

"Oh kitten, I've seen your gaze. You've been eye fucking me for a while, is that right?" he whispered right into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

*click*

He closed the door with his left hand. You had nowhere to go. But... did you want to leave?

"Wooyoung it's not funny, I hate everything about you."

He tilts his head at your words.

"Come again, darling? I didn't quite hear you."

"You're fucking annoying, don't get on my nerves" you said, squirming and trying to get away from his grip. But with every word and every sentence he was saying, your force dissipated and you were starting to give in... maybe you wanted him after all?

You had a window of freedom and took something out of your pocket.

"Ouuu, a knife? Are you trying to perhaps flirt with me?" he said smiling, tightening his grip on your wrists.

"Drop it. I can't guarantee your safety with that shit around me, y/n." he said and took it from your hands.

"Shut the fuck up"

"Make me, love"

You gulped. You never thought that your... death enemy would turn you on but.. here you are, arousal pooling in your panties and trying to keep your composure and not jump on him in that instant. He was staring you down, you could feel how his eyes were eating you right there. He closed the gap between your bodies, you could feel his briefs getting thighter against your thighs.

"Wooyoung.. ? The fuck are you doing?" You said flustered, looking at the bulge forming in front of you.

"Perhaps I want to fuck you or... leave you hanging? Either way... it's so much fun seeing you this flustered... you've never been like this. It makes me go insane" he said, leaning in, hovering his lips over your collarbones.

You didn't try to run away now. You almost fully gave in but... there was still something holding you back. Was he always like this? Was he.. always into you.. like this? All these thoughts were driving you insane as you felt your cunt wetting your jeans. Did you want to give in? Did you want to leave? Your body was telling you something.. while your mind was telling you otherwise. But... you wanted to give in. Truth is... you've always wanted to fuck him. To fuck the cockiness and brattiness out of him. To see him flustered, to find out why he's always been bratty with you and only you.

Though.. he continued before letting you say something.

"You know... the problem is.."

He said as he leaned in, staring at your lips with hunger and thirst.

"If I touch you... or kiss you... I don't think I'll be able to back off."

He said... waiting for the slightest response from you.

"Wooyoung -" you mustered your courage to say, touching his lip with your thumb after he loosened the grip on your hands.

He took that as a yes.

Wooyoung leaned in for a kiss, one of his hands holding your wrists above and the other one on your waist, all touchy.

"To be honest with you, y/n"

He stopped for a moment.

"I've always wanted to do this"

He said as he leaned in for a deeper, sloppier kiss. His hand going down to your ass, trying to feel you up in every way possible.

"I hate you, Wooyoung."

"No. babe. You hate the fact that you actually want me" he said, planting a kiss on your neck.

And that was it.. you were making out with your death enemy. Tongues interlocking, lewd sounds being heard in the whole room. His hands going down to your pants and your hands on his shoulders, he took you in his hands and put you on the washing machine in the bathroom. In the meantime, you could feel his hands all touchy around your waist. He was not that shitty, after all. He was waiting for you to fully give in before making any move that would make you uncomfortable. But as he said... you'd been eye fucking him for a while now.

You unzipped your pants and he took them off. His hands going back to your ass, now tugging at your panties. As soon as he touched your thigh, really close to your cunt, you flinched.

He stopped.

"Hm? why did you stop"

"You flinched. All good w me all over you?"

"Yes."

"Okay, good girl" he said. smiling.

"Fuck you, Wooyoung"

"Oh yes, please." he said and went in for a wild sloppy kiss, biting your lower lip while he took of your panties and bra. You were already bare in fron of him while he still had his briefs on... which you took care of in a second. You first started touching his tip through the cloth, feeling how hard it has gotten these past few moments. He didn't lie, after all. He really wanted to fuck you... judging from all the pre cum leaking through. You tugged at them and took them off only halfway before his cock sprung up out of the enclosed briefs.

You gulped.

"Hm? did you say something, love?"

"Are you... perhaps.. surprised?" he said, chuckling at the view he had. Your hand was resting on his dick, which was halfway out of his underwear. He was right... you were fucking surprised at how big he was.

"N-no" you said flustered. He could see the look on your face. You wanted to fuck him right there.

He left you sitting on the washing machine.

"Where the fuck are you going? Don't piss me off, you started this" you said, staring at him.

"Wait a moment, I'm just gonna do something" and as he finished talking, he turned on the shower.

"Oh, my fucking god." You gasped.

"Wooyoung.." you said but couldn't finish your sentence as he took you in his grip and dropped you off in the shower, the water dripping off your collarbones.

"Didn't you want to take a shower, woman? The fuck you looking at" he said before one of his hands went straight to your neck, receiving a choked whimper from you.

"Ooh, you're a cocky one, hm?" he said as you stopped showing him how much you wanted him.

"You're one to talk, Wooyoung" you said and right after you finished your sentence he pushed you on the wall, your breasts against the wall and your back arched for the man behind you.

"Stay still, babe." he said as he slapped your ass, holding onto it for dear life. He was resting his dick on your folds, rubbing against them for a moment.

"Fucking god.. y/n. I hate how good you feel"

He said as he pushed only his tip in.

"It makes me want to destroy the fuck out of you"

He said as he pushed himself fully into your cunt, receiving a loud moan from you.

"Wooyoung ! " you shouted, trying to hold onto something. He had other plans. He took your hair into a fist and with his other hand he held onto you, bottoming out with every single one of his thrusts. It hurt but oh god... you never thought he'd fuck this good. You were holding on for dear life, the wall slippery from the water running on you and your knees weak.

"I'm not even - oh"

"Sweating yet, babe." You said, stopping in the middle because of one of his thrusts.

"Is that really all you - g-got?" you muffled.

"Hm? You want more, huh? What a needy cunt you have." he said, burying his face into the nape of your neck, still holding on your hair, pulling it back. "Isn't this good to you, darling? Hm?" he said as he slowed down his thrusts, but going deeper as ever.

"Oh - my god" you whimpered, arousal dripping from your folds, as he pulled out for a moment.

"The fuck are you doing" you said annoyed, cause he stopped you from catching your high.

"You said you didn't even sweat so I stopped. I thought you meant I'm not good enough to you"

"You're a damn nuisance, Wooyoung. I can see your dick throbbing. Did you really want to stop?" you said, smiling at the view.

"Not your damn business. Quite a mouth you have, it seems like you need someone to put you in your place" he said as he manhandled you. He turned you around and pushed you on your knees, his cock on your cheek, rubbing on it while his hand was holding your hair.

"Got something to say, y/n? Are you finally.. quiet?" he said, looking down at you.

"Never, you fucker"

"Ohh, bratty. I love it" He said as he pushed his dick in your mouth, feeling it right in the back of your throat, tears swelling in your eyes. His dick was girthy... you could feel how it stretched your mouth so well. This brat also didn't let you adjust to his size. Having no room to breath, you were choking on his tip, but little did he care. He loved seeing you helpess, fucked dumb and being sucked by you.

When he pulled out for a short second you coughed, gasping for air.

"You're.. cute" he said chuckling, stroking your head while you had his dick on your lips.

"You bet" you said and you softly bit his tip, receiving a moan from him.

"Fuck you, y/n. This is how we are, hm? Fuck that hurt" he said, looking down at you, plotting something.

He kneeled and pushed you around. He wanted you to sit on all fours.

"Ass up, babe. On all fours. Turn around, on a side. Now." he said and even before having time to move, he manhandled you how he wanted. You were now sideways on your knees and hands.

"Suck."

And you obeyed. But little did you know he had completely other plans that you were bound to find out as soon as you felt the free hand, the one that wasn't holding your hair, on your spine right down to your ass. He used two of his fingers to spread out your wet, dripping folds. One of it rubbing on your clit, the other one slowly finding it's way in your cunt. He curled his finger inside you, making you arch your back and stop sucking him off. You gasped at the sensation.

"Damn, I never thought you'd be this hot sucking me off like the little whore you are. Wanna cum, hm? I can see it on your face. All flustered up and weak for me" he said, pushing two fingers inside you.

He was right, you were so close to finishing, barely standing on your knees. Your hands were slipping, trying to hold yourself up on his thighs.

"Stop" he said.

"W-what why" you said angrily, looking at him and gasping when he pulled out his fingers, your cunt clenching on nothing.

"You fucker, it's the 2nd time you've fucked with my orgasm. What's your problem, want me to kill you?" you shouted, weak in your knees as soon as he put his hand on your neck.

"Hmm.. maybe I love seeing you so desperate for me. For my dick, for my fingers. But... did you just say you'd.. kill me? Is that right, babe?" he said as he choked you, staring you up and down.

"We'll see about that. Get up and face me. Now." he said, waiting for you to obey.

He then lifted you up right on his dick, placing your hands on his shoulders. One of his hand was holding you from below and with one he was leaning against the wall, not letting your head hit the hard tile in the shower.

"Wooyoungh-h, I gotta-" you muffled.

"Use your words, pretty. I didn't quite understand"

"I gotta, mhhm, c-cum"

"Like, now" you said and let out a muffled moan, trying to look back at Wooyoung.

"Nu-uh babe, I didn't yet."

He stopped for only a second.

"Let's make a deal. Cum at the same time as me. Won't be that hard, right? I can see on your face that you're out of it. Now... cum." he said and started wildly thrusting into you, with so much speed and deepness, with the hand he was leaning against the wall on your clit, rubbing circles on it while closing the distance between you two.

It was like... what? the 3rd time you we're close to it and he was playing with you. But he wasn't a brat until the end and you both came, still thrusting into you so you could take up his load right up your cunt.

As both of you were coming down from your highs, he leaned down to put you down in the tiles and sat besides you.

"Y/n... I never thought this would happen but.. oh my god. You felt so good..." he said while giving you soft kisses on your forehead. He hovered the shower over you, washing you up. You've never seen that side of him. The nice, loving one.. but you loved it.

"Wooyoung.. when I tell you I GULPED when I saw you in the hallway. I was going insane !"

"Then.. up for a round 2?" he said laughing.

"Shut the fuck up, it's late and we need to wake up early as fuck!" you said, scoffing.

"Fine, fine. I'll pass on it tonight. But... what about tomorrow night? We could try the bed, too. It looks pretty sturdy." he said smirking.

"Wooyoung, for fucks sake! SHUT UP!" you said running out of the bathroom, your cheeks flushed from what he just said.

"Dammit, this fucker"

#ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #smut fic #ateez fic #ateez #ateez smut #ateez x y/n #fanfic #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung #jung wooyoung #smut #smutty smut smut #smutty fanfiction #smut tag #smutty thoughts #cnc brat #bd/sm brat #daddy’s brat

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the-winter-spider · 12 days ago

Text

Willow | 1/2

Pairings: 1940sBucky x Agent!Reader, Bucky x agent!reader

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: Nothing really

A/N: This fic was inspired by @vibraniumqueen message sent to me!! Hope its sort of what you requested! I got carried away and now have to post this in 2 parts lol

Im not like the biggest fan of this buuuuut after writing over 15k words total for the whole fic i gotta post it lol ALSO i definitely did not edit this lmao oopsie

The door slid open, and in walked Nick Fury, his presence commanding the room as always. He didn’t bother with formalities; he never did.

“Agent,” Fury began, his voice low and steady. “We’ve got a mission. One that never happened, and one you’ll never speak of again.”

You nodded, your face impassive, though your mind was already racing. Missions like these were your specialty. You didn’t operate in the spotlight. You weren’t one of Fury’s public heroes or a celebrated Avenger. You were a shadow, a weapon honed in the dark, moving through the world unnoticed. A ghost.

Fury crossed the room, his trench coat brushing the floor as he moved. “We’ve identified a Nazi stronghold in 1941, deep in occupied Europe. They’re in possession of critical documents — plans and technology decades ahead of their time. We can’t let those files survive the war.”

You glanced at the map, your mind already calculating. “Time travel,” you said, your voice calm, though the weight of the mission began to settle on your shoulders.

Fury nodded. “You’ll be stationed as a nurse with the 107th Infantry. They’ll be arriving at a field camp near the stronghold in a few days. Your cover is simple: blend in, gain access to the target, retrieve the files, and get out. No deviations. No attachments.”

You resisted the urge to scoff. No attachments. That had been drilled into you since the beginning. You were trained to be invisible, to serve a mission and then disappear without a trace. Your past in the Red Room had taught you that much, and SHIELD had only refined it.

“I assume I’m working alone,” you said.

Fury’s expression didn’t change. “You always do.”

It was true. You were a ghost in every sense of the word. You’d spent your entire life operating on the fringes, never part of a team, never part of their world. You knew of the Avengers, of course—who didn’t? But they didn’t know you. You weren’t a part of their grand battles or their legendary victories.

Well, except for one. Natasha Romanoff. She’d been a fleeting presence in your life, a reminder of your shared origins in the Red Room. You’d trained in the same shadows, fought the same demons. But even then, you hadn’t truly known her. She’d been a specter of a different life, one that had moved on without you. While she got recruited there, Fury thought you were best suited in the shadows.

You refocused as Fury handed you a dossier. Inside were detailed maps, forged documents, and a small vial containing a glowing blue liquid. The device that would send you back in time.

“You know the drill,” Fury said, his tone as sharp as ever. “You’re not there to change history, only to secure our future. In and out. No one remembers you, and you don’t bring anything or anyone back.”

You nodded, flipping through the dossier. “And the 107th?”

“They don’t know who you are, and they never will. You’re a nurse. That’s it. But one name on that roster might ring a bell.” Fury tapped the folder, and you found it instantly. Barnes, James Buchanan.

The name didn’t spark recognition, but it did send a strange ripple through your thoughts. “Why him?” you asked.

Fury shrugged. “No reason. He’s just another soldier in the unit. But don’t let that distract you. This mission isn’t about making friends, and it damn sure isn’t about saving anyone who doesn’t need saving.”

You clenched your jaw. Fury’s words were a reminder of the line you couldn’t cross. You’d trained for this moment for years, honing your skills to perfection. You were designed to be unseen, unheard, and unfelt.

Fury’s voice snapped you back. “You’ve got your orders. Do your job, Agent. Leave no trace.”

You took the dossier and the vial, tucking them away with practiced efficiency. “Understood,” you said, your voice steady, devoid of hesitation. But as you turned to leave, the familiar mantra echoed in your mind: No attachments. No connections. You’re a ghost.

Later, when you finally opened the dossier, your eyes landed on a photograph. Barnes. The name was familiar, but it wasn’t until you stared at his face that something inside you stirred. A strange sense of recognition flickered in the back of your mind. You knew him—or at least, it felt like you did.

You flipped the page, your pulse quickening as more details came into view. And then, you saw it.

The Winter Soldier.

The words stared back at you, cold and unfeeling, but they sparked a storm of emotions you weren’t prepared for. You knew the name, of course. Everyone in this business did. The ghost story whispered in shadows, the assassin whose presence was felt long after he disappeared into the night. But what you didn’t know was the man behind it.

Your gaze drifted back to the photograph, and for a moment, everything else fell away. His eyes. Even through the grainy black-and-white image, they stood out—haunted, distant, yet somehow familiar. There was innocence there, a quiet humanity buried beneath the weight of the darkness he would come to bear.

You tightened your grip on the file, your knuckles whitening. Ghosts weren’t meant to feel, and yet here you were, shaken by a face from the past you couldn’t place but somehow couldn’t forget.

Flipping through the pages, you scanned his history—Brooklyn, 1941, the 107th Infantry. Your breath caught as more images filled the pages. Pictures of him before he became the Winter Soldier: laughing with other soldiers, standing beside a scrawny young man labeled Steve Rogers, of course you knew him as Captain America but no one would ever know you. Then, the darker photos followed. HYDRA. The experiments. The cold, dead stare of a man who had been stripped of everything.

The door to your quarters slid shut with a soft hiss, and for a moment, the silence was almost suffocating. You placed the dossier and the small vial of glowing blue liquid on the steel table in front of you. The mission parameters were clear, the risks higher than usual, but none of that was new. You’d done this before, moving through missions like a shadow, leaving no trace. Yet, something about this one felt… different. Heavier.

You sat down, the cold metal of the chair grounding you. Flicking open the dossier, you reviewed the details again, committing every piece of information to memory. Maps, personnel lists, cover identities. You’d be stationed as a nurse in a field hospital near the front lines. A perfect cover for blending in. Your forged papers were flawless, down to the tiniest detail.

Your name was different now. Your past erased, rewritten to fit the narrative of a 1940s nurse.

Ghosts didn’t get attached. Ghosts didn’t feel. You weren’t there to alter history or forge connections. Your mission was simple: retrieve the files, destroy them if necessary, and get out.

You pushed the dossier aside and picked up the vial, turning it over in your hands. The blue liquid shimmered faintly, a reminder of the power it held. Time travel was a delicate operation, one that required precision and absolute control. There was no room for error.

You placed the vial carefully into the injector and secured it around your wrist. The faint hum of the device powering up was the only sound in the room.

Your internal monologue began to surface, unbidden.

You weren’t supposed to be here, not in this timeline, not in their world. You’d been forged in the Red Room, molded into an instrument of precision and silence. SHIELD had found you, given you purpose beyond the shadows of your past, but you had never stepped into the light. You were designed to operate in the margins of history, invisible to the heroes who saved the world.

It hurt thinking of Natasha, her voice, her presence in the Red Room. She had been a beacon of strength. But she had walked away from that world, found a new family. You? You remained in the shadows, bound to missions that no one could know about, missions that didn’t exist on paper. You didn't exist on paper.

You stood and approached the small mirror on the wall. The face staring back at you was calm, unyielding. But behind your eyes, you could see the tension creeping in.

You’re not doing this for glory or recognition. You’re doing this because you’re the only one who can.

You reached for the pack of clothing and equipment laid out on the nearby table. The nurse’s uniform was meticulously crafted, down to the period-accurate buttons and insignia. As you slipped into the attire, you felt yourself becoming the role. The transformation was seamless, automatic, a ritual that pulled you deeper into the identity you were about to assume.

Finally, you secured the last piece: a silver locket around your neck. Inside was a tiny microchip, a piece of technology far beyond anything the 1940s could comprehend. It was your failsafe, your tether back to the present.

A soft chime from the injector reminded you it was time. You glanced around the room, taking in every detail, knowing this might be the last familiar sight you’d see for a while. Then, you pressed the button on your wrist.

The world around you began to shift, colors bleeding into one another as time folded in on itself. Your heart pounded, but your expression remained stoic. You’d trained for this, prepared for every contingency. You were ready.

As the light around you intensified, your final thought was simple, resolute: You are a ghost. Leave no trace.

And then, the world snapped into focus, and you were standing in a field hospital in 1941, the distant sound of artillery fire echoing through the air.

The mission had begun.

The salty breeze off the English Channel carried the smell of sea and steel, a sharp reminder of the battles waged across its waters. You stood at the edge of the field hospital camp, the makeshift tents and wooden crates around you blending into the mud-soaked earth. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows as the air grew cooler.

From where you were stationed, you could see the transport ship docking at the pier. Its hulking frame loomed against the gray sky, the gangplank lowering with a heavy groan. One by one, soldiers began to disembark, their boots clanging against the metal as they descended.

You were trained to observe, to analyze every detail without drawing attention to yourself. These men were exhausted, their faces grim and hardened by the horrors they had faced. Their uniforms were wrinkled and stained, helmets tilted at weary angles. They moved like a unit, but each step spoke of personal battles, of stories carried in silence.

You stayed rooted in place, your nurse’s uniform a perfect blend of authority and anonymity. A clipboard in your hand gave you an excuse to linger, but no one paid you much mind. This was war. You were just another face in the chaos.

Your eyes scanned the line of soldiers disembarking, cataloging them with practiced precision. You were supposed to be looking for weaknesses, details that might help you blend in more effectively. But then, your gaze landed on one man.

He walked with a quiet confidence, his posture upright despite the weight of fatigue. Dark hair peeked out from beneath his helmet, and his steel-blue eyes scanned the camp with a soldier’s wariness. His face was sharp, shadowed by stubble, but it was his expression that caught you—equal parts focused and distant, as if he were both here and somewhere far away.

James Buchanan Barnes.

You knew his name, knew his story—or at least, the parts that history would remember… the parts in the folder. But standing here now, seeing him in the flesh, was something else entirely. He wasn’t just a name in a dossier or a ghost from the past. He was real, and the weight of that realisation hit you like a wave.

I’m like the water when your ship rolled in that night.

His arrival had stirred something deep within you, something you couldn’t explain.

You weren’t supposed to feel this way. Your mission was clear: stay invisible, complete the task, and leave. No deviations, no entanglements. But as you watched him, your chest tightened with an inexplicable pull. There was something about him, something magnetic.

Bucky paused near the base of the gangplank, helping another soldier with a crate of supplies. His voice was low, his words lost in the din of the camp, but the kindness in his gestures was unmistakable. He was a soldier, yes, but there was a warmth to him, a spark of humanity that hadn’t been extinguished by war.

You forced yourself to look away, focusing on the clipboard in your hand. Stay sharp. Stay focused. You couldn’t afford distractions, not here, not now.

And yet, your eyes betrayed you, flickering back to him as he moved through the camp, his presence impossible to ignore. You told yourself it was just curiosity, a natural reaction to seeing someone you’d only read about.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to wonder what it would be like to speak to him, to share even a fraction of the weight you carried. But the thought was fleeting, quickly buried beneath the weight of your training.

You are a ghost. Leave no trace.

The smell of antiseptic and damp canvas filled the air as you moved between the rows of cots in the makeshift medical tent. Their arrival—was what you’d been waiting for.

You were focused on checking supplies when a familiar commotion at the tent entrance caught your attention. A group of soldiers sauntered in, their uniforms caked in dirt and their faces shadowed with fatigue. Among them was a man who immediately stood out. His dark hair curled slightly at the ends, his blue eyes bright despite the grime smeared across his face. He carried himself with an easy confidence, even as he favoured one leg.

Your mission dossier hadn’t prepared you for the sheer presence of him.

As the soldiers dispersed to their assigned cots, he made a beeline for you. His limp was subtle but noticeable, and despite yourself, your training kicked in.

“Take a seat,” you said, your voice steady as you gestured to an empty cot. “I’ll take a look at that leg.”

Bucky flashed a crooked smile, his eyes sweeping over you with interest. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he said, his voice smooth, tinged with the faintest Brooklyn accent. “And here I thought this camp was all bad news.”

You arched an eyebrow, setting down your clipboard. “Flattery won’t get you out of a medical exam, Sergeant Barnes.”

His grin widened as he sat down, wincing slightly. “So, you know my name. That’s a good start. What do I call you, Nurse…?”

You hesitated for half a second, then gave him your cover name. “Nurse Johnson.”

“Well, Nurse Johnson,” he said, leaning back on his hands, “if I’d known there were nurses like you out here, I’d have gotten shot a long time ago.”

You gave him a pointed look, crouching in front of him to roll up the tattered leg of his uniform. “Let’s try to avoid that, shall we?”

Bucky’s laugh was soft but genuine, his gaze never leaving your face. “You’re all business, huh?”

You pressed lightly on his shin, watching for a reaction. “Someone has to be. Looks like you’ve got a nasty sprain, but nothing’s broken.”

“Guess I’ll live to fight another day,” he said, wincing slightly as you adjusted his leg.

“Barely,” you muttered, grabbing a bandage from your kit. As you wrapped his leg, you could feel his eyes on you, the weight of his attention almost unnerving.

“So, what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” he asked, his tone playful but curious.

"Thats the line you're gonna go with?" The corners of your lips slightly turned as you tied off the bandage, sitting back on your heels. “Helping stubborn soldiers like you survive long enough to get home.”

Bucky chuckled, his head tilting slightly. “You got a smart mouth on you, Nurse Johnson. I like that.”

You rolled your eyes, standing up and crossing your arms. “And you’ve got a sprained leg. Try not to make it worse.”

He grinned again, leaning forward slightly. “You know, if you’re ever looking for a dance partner when this war’s over, I’d be happy to oblige.”

Despite yourself, you felt a small smile tug at your lips. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Bucky’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You better. A guy like me doesn’t make that offer twice.”

Shaking your head, you gathered your supplies and turned to leave. “Try to stay out of trouble, Sergeant.”

“No promises,” he called after you, his voice warm and teasing. “But I’ll do my best if it means seeing you again.”

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but glance back, finding him still watching you, his smile softer now. Your mission had just gotten a whole lot more complicated.

The first few days at the field hospital were a blur of motion and noise. Soldiers came in with fresh wounds, some minor, others devastating. Your hands worked tirelessly, stitching cuts, setting broken bones, administering whatever pain relief was available. You moved through it all like a machine, your focus never wavering.

You’d trained for moments like this, where life and death were separated by a thread, but this mission wasn’t about saving lives—it was about staying hidden long enough to complete your objective. The files you needed were still buried somewhere in enemy hands, and every moment you spent here was one step closer to obtaining them.

Still, blending in was vital, and that meant interacting with the men around you. They were polite, for the most part, offering nods of gratitude when you patched them up. But one soldier in particular seemed to be making it his mission to capture your attention.

“Hey, Nurse,” a familiar voice called out one evening as you worked on organizing supplies. You turned to see Bucky Barnes leaning against the frame of the medical tent, a lopsided grin on his face. “Got a minute?”

You raised an eyebrow, but kept your expression neutral. “That depends. Are you here because you need actual medical attention, or are you just bored?”

He chuckled, the sound rich and warm. “Bit of both, maybe.”

You sighed, setting down the bandages you were sorting. “Let me guess—another soldier got into a scuffle and you decided to play referee?”

Bucky stepped closer, his helmet tucked under his arm. “Something like that. You know how it is. Boys will be boys.” His eyes sparkled with mischief, and despite yourself, you felt a flicker of amusement.

You crossed your arms, feigning exasperation. “Well, if you’re not bleeding, you’re wasting my time, Sergeant.”

“Ah, but see, you didn’t check.” He tilted his head, his grin widening. “Maybe I’ve got a battle wound you missed.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the small smile threatening to break through. “If you’re trying to flirt, you’ll have to do better than that.”

“Flirt? Me?” Bucky placed a hand over his heart, mock-offended. “I’m just trying to keep morale up. Can’t have our best nurse getting all serious on us.”

“Best nurse?” You arched an eyebrow. “You’ve known me for all of three days, Barnes.”

“Three days is all I need,” he said smoothly, his voice dropping just enough to send a small shiver down your spine. “I’ve got a good eye for people.”

You turned back to your supplies, determined to maintain your composure. “Well, maybe you should use that good eye to look out for your men instead of distracting me.”

Bucky chuckled again, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “I do that too. Multitasking, you know?”

You shot him a pointed look, but before you could respond, another soldier poked his head into the tent, interrupting the moment. “Sarge, we’ve got a situation by the south perimeter.”

Bucky’s demeanour shifted instantly, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by sharp focus. He gave you a quick nod, then turned to follow the soldier out.

“Don’t work too hard, doll,” he called over his shoulder as he left. “Wouldn’t want you wearing yourself out.”

You shook your head, finally letting out a small laugh once he was gone. Bucky Barnes was trouble, that much was clear. He was charming, confident, and far too good at making you forget the rules you were supposed to live by.

But he was also a soldier, just like the rest of them. And you were here for a mission, not for him.

Stay focused, you reminded yourself, though it was getting harder with every interaction.

The next few days followed a similar pattern. Bucky found every opportunity to stop by the medical tent, whether it was to check on his men or to toss a teasing remark your way. He seemed determined to pull you out of your shell, to coax a smile or a laugh from you no matter how busy or serious the day became.

One afternoon, as you were tending to a soldier with a shrapnel wound, Bucky appeared again, his presence filling the tent like sunlight cutting through a storm.

“Thought you might need some help,” he said, leaning casually against a supply crate.

You didn’t even look up. “Unless you’ve suddenly become a medic, I think I’m good.”

“Hey, I’m a fast learner,” he quipped, stepping closer. “Show me what to do, and I’ll be the best assistant you’ve ever had.”

You finally glanced up at him, your expression skeptical. “You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack.” He grinned, unflinching. “C’mon, Nurse. What’s the worst that could happen?”

You sighed, gesturing toward the supplies. “Fine. Hand me the gauze.”

Bucky’s grin widened as he moved to your side, and for the next few minutes, he actually did as he was told, passing you tools and supplies with surprising care. But of course, it didn’t take long for him to start talking again.

“So,” he began, his tone light, “you always this serious, or is it just an act?”

You didn’t miss a beat. “Maybe I’m trying to keep certain soldiers in line.”

“Ah, so I’m a bad influence,” he teased, leaning a little closer. “Good to know.”

You gave him a sidelong glance, trying not to let his proximity affect you. “You’re definitely something.”

The playful banter continued, but beneath it all, you felt the weight of unspoken truths. Every moment with Bucky was a reminder of what you couldn’t have, of the life you were just passing through. But for now, in the fleeting quiet of the field hospital, you allowed yourself to enjoy his presence.

Just for a little while.

The sun was setting, painting the horizon in hues of gold and crimson. The camp had grown quieter, the hum of daily activity fading as the soldiers took what little rest they could before nightfall. You were sitting on a wooden crate just outside the medical tent, enjoying a rare moment of stillness. A cup of lukewarm coffee sat in your hands, its warmth a small comfort against the cool evening air.

The sound of approaching footsteps broke the silence, and you didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Mind if I join you?” Bucky’s voice was softer than usual, lacking its usual teasing edge.

You glanced at him, your heart giving a small, inexplicable flutter. “It’s a free camp,” you said, gesturing to the crate beside you.

Bucky sat down with a tired sigh, his helmet resting on his lap. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet settling comfortably between you. He looked different in the fading light—less like the cocky sergeant who flirted with you during the day and more like the weary soldier you knew he was. His eyes were distant, reflecting the weight of battles fought and losses endured.

“You don’t talk much about yourself,” he said after a while, his voice thoughtful. “Most of the nurses here, they talk about home, family. You… you’re a mystery.”

You kept your gaze on the horizon, your grip tightening slightly on the cup. “Maybe I just don’t have much to tell.”

“Everyone’s got a story,” he countered, glancing at you. “Even ghosts.”

Your heart skipped at the word, but you kept your expression neutral. “Ghosts don’t have stories. They just… exist.”

Bucky frowned, leaning forward slightly. “Is that what you think you are? A ghost?”

You hesitated, caught off guard by his insight. He was perceptive, more than you’d expected. Finally, you spoke, your voice low. “I’ve spent a long time learning how to disappear. It’s easier that way.”

Bucky studied you for a moment, his gaze softening. “Easier, maybe. But doesn’t it get lonely?”

You swallowed hard. “Loneliness is part of the job.”

He shook his head, his expression gentle but firm. “Doesn’t have to be.”

You turned to look at him then, your eyes meeting his. There was no teasing now, no flirtation. Just quiet sincerity. It made your chest ache in a way you hadn’t expected.

“I don’t really have anyone to talk about,” you admitted after a moment. “No family, not that I remember. My parents… I don’t even know their names.”

Bucky’s expression shifted, his eyes filled with empathy. “Were you… a orphan?”

You hesitated, the term feeling both accurate and not. “Something like that. I was raised by people who didn’t care about who I was, only what I could do for them.”

The words hung in the air, heavier than you’d intended, but Bucky didn’t shy away from them. His gaze softened further, and he nodded slowly. “That’s a hell of a way to grow up,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

You shrugged, trying to deflect the weight of the conversation. “It made me good at what I do.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, his voice tinged with something that sounded like regret. “But it doesn’t mean you deserved it.”

You looked away, unsure how to respond. Empathy wasn’t something you were used to, especially not from someone like him—someone who seemed to wear his heart on his sleeve, even in the middle of a war.

After a long pause, Bucky spoke again, his voice softer this time. “You remind me of someone.”

You glanced at him, curious. “Who?”

“Steve,” he said with a small, fond smile. “He didn’t have much either. His mom passed not too long ago, and his dad when we were kids. But it's always been just him one way or another just fighting to survive in Brooklyn. Always getting picked on because he’s small, but he never gave up. He had this stubborn streak, always standing up for people, even when it got him into trouble.”

Steve Rogers. Captain America. You knew his story, but hearing Bucky talk about him like this—like he was just Steve, not a legend, because to this Bucky he wasn’t one yet—it painted a different picture.

“Must’ve been tough,” you said softly.

Bucky nodded. “It was. But he never let it break him. That’s just who he is.” He paused, his smile growing a little. “He can't throw a rock without wheezing but he never let that and will never let that stop him.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that, the warmth in Bucky’s voice cutting through the weight of the conversation.

“He’s lucky to have you,” you said.

Bucky looked at you, his smile fading into something more thoughtful. “I’m lucky to have him too. He’s always been there, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

The vulnerability in his words mirrored your own, and for a moment, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the weight of your shared pasts hanging between you.

Bucky reached out then, his hand brushing against yours. “You’re not as invisible as you think,” he said softly. “Not to me…I see you Nurse, and the view is amazing”

The camp was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that preceded something terrible. The usual hum of activity had slowed, and even the soldiers seemed more on edge. You felt it too—the tension in the air, the weight of something approaching.

You were in the medical tent, organising supplies when the call came.

“Enemy movement spotted near the south perimeter!” a soldier shouted as he rushed past. “They’re coming!”

Your heart dropped. You knew this moment was inevitable. The enemy had been closing in for days, and now they were here. But it wasn’t just the impending battle that had your stomach in knots. It was the mission—the files.

You quickly grabbed your hidden satchel from beneath your cot. Inside were the tools you’d need to breach the Nazi stronghold, which was now dangerously close to enemy lines. You’d been waiting for this opportunity, but it was coming at the worst possible time. The camp was about to become a battlefield, and every second counted.

Before you could slip away, Bucky stormed into the tent, his rifle slung over his shoulder, his face set in a grim expression.

“There you are,” he said, his eyes scanning you quickly, as if ensuring you were unharmed. “They’ve called all hands. It’s gonna get rough out there.”

“I know,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

He frowned, stepping closer. “You okay?”

You nodded, avoiding his gaze as you tightened the straps on your satchel. “I’ll be fine.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, his suspicion growing. “What’s in the bag?”

You froze for a split second, but it was enough for him to notice.

“Don’t lie to me,” he said, his voice low but firm. “What’s going on?”

You took a deep breath, meeting his gaze. “I can’t explain right now. I just… I have to go.”

His jaw tightened. “Go? Where? The perimeter’s crawling with enemy troops, and you’re talking about running off?”

You stepped past him, but he grabbed your arm, his grip firm but not harsh. “Talk to me,” he pleaded. “You’ve been keeping secrets since the day you got here. Please, dont do this….What’s really going on?”

You hesitated, the weight of your mission crashing down on you. Bucky wasn’t supposed to know. No one was. But in this moment, with his piercing gaze locked onto yours, you realized you couldn’t just walk away without saying something.

“I’m not who you think I am,” you said quietly. “I’m not just a nurse. I’m here on a mission.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed “A mission?” confusion and concern mixing in his expression. “What kind of mission?”

You glanced around, ensuring no one else was within earshot. “I can’t tell you everything. But there’s something I need to retrieve from the enemy. It’s vital.”

His grip on your arm tightened slightly. “You’re planning to go out there alone?”

“I have to,” you said, your voice firm. “This is what I was sent here to do.”

Bucky shook his head, his frustration evident. “You’re gonna get yourself killed. Do you even have backup?”

“No,” you admitted. “This mission is off the books.”

His eyes widened slightly, and he exhaled sharply. “That’s insane. You can’t go out there alone.”

“I’ve done it before,” you said, trying to reassure him. “I’ll be fine.”

But Bucky wasn’t convinced. “Not this time,” he said, his voice resolute. “I’m coming with you.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the look in his eyes stopped you. He wasn’t going to let you go alone.

“Bucky—”

“No,” he interrupted. “You don’t get to push me away now. If this is as important as you say it is, then you’re gonna need someone watching your back.”

You hesitated, torn between the mission and the growing connection you felt with him. Bringing Bucky along wasn’t part of the plan, but the truth was, you knew he was right. The enemy would be everywhere, and the odds of surviving alone were slim.

“Fine,” you said finally. “But you follow my lead. No questions.”

He gave you a small, determined nod. “Deal.”

Together, you slipped out of the tent and into the night, the distant sound of gunfire growing louder with each step. The mission was about to reach its breaking point, and so was your fragile trust in Bucky.

But there was no turning back now.

The camp was already descending into chaos by the time you and Bucky slipped through the south perimeter. Gunfire echoed in the distance, mingling with the shouts of soldiers and the thunderous roar of artillery. The enemy was closing in fast, and every second felt like borrowed time.

You led the way, keeping low as you navigated the uneven terrain. Bucky followed close behind, his rifle at the ready, his eyes scanning for threats. The weight of your satchel bounced against your side, a constant reminder of the mission’s stakes.

“Where exactly are we going?” Bucky asked in a hushed voice as you reached a narrow trail leading toward the enemy-occupied forest.

“There’s a stronghold about a mile from here,” you replied, keeping your voice low. “That’s where they’re keeping the files.”

He gave you a skeptical look but didn’t press further. “And how do you know this?”

You hesitated. “Let’s just say I have access to intel most people don’t.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “Fine. I’ll trust you.”

The tension between you was palpable, but there was no time to unpack it. You pressed on, the shadows of the trees swallowing you both as you moved deeper into enemy territory.

The stronghold loomed ahead, a dark silhouette against the night sky. It was an old stone fortress, fortified with barbed wire and patrolled by armed guards. You and Bucky crouched behind a cluster of bushes, observing the layout.

“Two guards at the main entrance,” Bucky whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “And a patrol circling every few minutes.”

You nodded, scanning the area. “There’s a side entrance near the east wall. It’s less guarded, but we’ll have to time it perfectly.”

Bucky smirked slightly. “You’ve done this before.”

“More times than I care to admit,” you replied, keeping your eyes on the patrols. “Ready?”

“Always.”

Together, you moved swiftly and silently, sticking to the shadows. When the patrol passed, you darted toward the east wall, Bucky covering your six. The side entrance was a narrow metal door, rusted and worn. You pulled a small device from your satchel, a compact tool designed to pick even the most secure locks. Within seconds, the door clicked open.

“Impressive,” Bucky murmured as you slipped inside.

You gave him a quick look. “Focus.”

Inside, the stronghold was cold and dimly lit, the corridors eerily quiet. You navigated the labyrinthine hallways with precision, your memory of the layout guiding you. Bucky stayed close, his rifle raised and ready.

Finally, you reached a secured room at the end of a long hallway. A heavy steel door stood between you and your objective.

“This is it,” you whispered, pulling out another device from your satchel. It was a miniature explosive, designed to breach the door without causing a large-scale alert.

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly. “You really came prepared.”

“Like I said,” you replied, placing the explosive, “I’ve done this before.”

The device beeped softly as you set the timer. “Stand back.”

The explosion was quick and precise, the door blasting inward with minimal noise. You and Bucky rushed inside, your eyes immediately scanning the room. It was filled with filing cabinets and stacks of documents, the enemy’s plans meticulously organized.

You went to work, quickly locating the files you needed. As you stuffed them into your satchel, Bucky kept watch by the door.

“So this is what all the secrecy was about?” he asked, his voice low but tense.

“These files could change everything,” you said, your hands moving quickly. “If they fall into the wrong hands, it could shift the balance of power for decades.”

Bucky nodded, his expression serious. “Then we make sure they don’t.”

Just as you secured the last of the files, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed down the hallway.

“Time to go,” Bucky said, his grip tightening on his rifle.

You nodded, and together you slipped out of the room, moving quickly and quietly through the stronghold. But as you reached the exit, the footsteps grew louder, closer. The guards were on high alert now.

“We’re not gonna make it out the way we came,” Bucky muttered, his eyes scanning for another escape route.

You pointed to a nearby staircase. “There’s a secondary exit through the upper level. It leads to the roof.”

Bucky nodded, and the two of you raced up the stairs, your boots barely making a sound on the worn stone steps. At the top, you found the door to the roof. It was locked, but Bucky didn’t hesitate. He slammed his shoulder into it, forcing it open with a grunt.

The night air hit you like a wall as you stepped onto the roof. Below, the camp was in chaos, enemy soldiers scrambling in response to the breach.

“There,” Bucky said, pointing to a nearby tree line. “We jump, head for cover.”

You hesitated, the drop from the roof to the ground far from ideal. But there was no time to argue. With a nod, you followed Bucky as he leapt, landing with a roll in the soft dirt below. You hit the ground a moment later, pain shooting through your legs as you landed hard but kept moving.

Together, you sprinted toward the trees, gunfire erupting behind you. Bullets whizzed past, but you didn’t stop, adrenaline driving you forward. Finally, you reached the cover of the forest, the sounds of pursuit growing fainter.

Once you were safely concealed among the trees, you collapsed against a trunk, your breath coming in heavy gasps. Bucky crouched beside you, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of pursuit.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You nodded, clutching the satchel tightly. “Mission accomplished.”

Bucky gave a small, breathless laugh. “You’re something else, you know that?”

You met his gaze, the tension of the moment fading slightly as his familiar smirk returned. “So are you, Sergeant.”

Despite the danger, despite everything, you felt a flicker of warmth between you. The mission had tested both your resolve and your connection, but you’d made it out together. And somehow, that made all the difference.

The firelight flickered across the camp, casting long shadows as the remnants of the battle settled into an uneasy calm. You and Bucky sat on the edge of the forest, just beyond the perimeter, hidden from sight. The distant sound of gunfire and shouting had finally faded, leaving only the quiet hum of the night.

The stolen Nazi files were secure in your satchel, now buried beneath layers of medical supplies. You’d succeeded in your mission, but the cost weighed heavily on your shoulders.

Bucky sat beside you, silent for a long time. His rifle was propped against a tree, his hands resting on his knees. The tension between you had shifted—no longer marked by suspicion but by a shared understanding.

“You really weren’t kidding about being a ghost,” he said eventually, his voice low and thoughtful.

You glanced at him, the flickering firelight catching the sharp angles of his face. “I told you it was important.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Yeah. But you didn’t tell me everything.”

You looked away, the weight of his words settling over you. “I couldn’t.”

“Why?” His voice was soft, but there was an edge of frustration. “Because you didn’t trust me?”

“It’s not about trust,” you said quietly, your fingers tightening around the satchel. “It’s about the mission. It’s about keeping things safe.”

Bucky frowned, his gaze searching your face. “Safe from what?”

You hesitated, carefully choosing your words. “From things that could change everything if they’re not handled right.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly, the soldier in him catching on to the weight behind your statement. “Sounds like more than just some stolen files.”

“It is,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky was silent for a moment, processing your words. Finally, he spoke, his voice tinged with awe and concern. “And you’ve been doing this alone?”

“It’s what I was trained for,” you said, your tone matter-of-fact. “No attachments, no distractions. Just the mission.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened. “That’s no way to live.”

You looked at him, surprised by the intensity in his voice. “It’s the only way I know.”

He shook his head, his expression softening. “You’re more than just a mission, you know. You’ve got a life, a soul. You can’t keep shutting people out.”

Your chest tightened at his words. For so long, you’d lived in the shadows, carrying the burden of your missions alone. But now, sitting here with Bucky, you felt the cracks in your armor growing wider.

“I’m not supposed to get attached,” you said quietly. “It makes things complicated.”

Bucky gave a small, rueful smile. “Too late for that….”

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. You felt a surge of emotion, a mix of fear and longing. You’d spent years building walls, but Bucky Barnes was breaking through them with every shared glance, every quiet moment.

“I don’t know how to do this,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky’s hand stayed on yours, steady and grounding. His touch was gentle, but there was strength behind it, a quiet reassurance that you weren’t used to.

“You don’t have to do it alone. I’m here, you know?” his voice soft but resolute. “I’m in this.”

You looked down at your joined hands, the firelight reflecting off his metal fingers. It felt like he was holding more than just your hand—like he was holding the weight of everything you’d been carrying for so long.

“I’ve never had this before,” you said, your voice trembling. “I don’t know what it’s like to lean on someone, to let someone in.”

Bucky’s thumb traced small, soothing circles on the back of your hand. “It’s not easy,” he admitted. “But it’s worth it. You don’t have to carry everything by yourself.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, the vulnerability of the moment making your chest ache. “What if I’m not good at it? What if I mess this up?”

Bucky leaned closer, his voice low and steady. “You won’t. And even if you stumble, I’ll be right here. We’ll figure it out together.”

His words broke through the last of your defenses, and a tear slipped down your cheek. Bucky’s other hand came up, his thumb gently wiping it away. His touch was so tender, it made your heart ache even more.

“You’ve been through so much,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You don’t have to be strong all the time. Not with me.”

You let out a shaky breath, the weight of his words settling over you. “Bucky…”

He leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours. “You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered. “Just let me be here for you.”

The two of you sat there in silence, the fire crackling softly in the background. The world outside the camp seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of his presence and the quiet comfort of the moment.

After a while, you finally spoke, your voice barely audible. “You’ve made me feel something I didn’t think I could feel.”

Bucky pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. “What’s that?”

“Hope,” you said, the word feeling both fragile and powerful.

His lips curved into a soft, bittersweet smile. “Then we’ve got something to hold on to.”

Without thinking, you leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. It was soft and tentative, a promise of something deeper. When you pulled back, his eyes were shining, and you could see the depth of his feelings mirrored in them.

“We’ll figure this out,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “One step at a time.”

You nodded, a small, genuine smile finally breaking through. “Together.”

Bucky squeezed your hand, his warmth chasing away the chill of the night. “Together,” he echoed.

And in that moment, with the firelight flickering around you and the weight of your shared pasts slowly lifting, you believed him.

In the days following the mission, the dynamic between you and Bucky began to change. There was a newfound understanding between you, a quiet bond forged in the heat of battle and the weight of shared secrets.

Bucky became more protective, often finding excuses to check in on you, whether it was during your rounds at the medical tent or when you were working alone. His teasing remarks were still there, but they were softer now, laced with genuine care.

You found yourself leaning on him more, allowing him into the parts of your life you’d always kept hidden. And despite the danger, despite the mission’s stakes, you had the files you could go back now and have exiled beating your initial time, but you stayed you couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, you’d found something worth holding onto.

But in the back of your mind, you knew the clock was ticking. The mission was complete, and soon, you’d have to leave this time, this world—and Bucky—behind.

The glow of the fire illuminated the night, the crackle the only sound cutting through. Most of the camp had settled in for the evening, but you and Bucky remained near the fire, sitting side by side on a fallen log. The warm glow danced across his face, softening the sharp angles and making his eyes shimmer like the stars above.

Bucky leaned back slightly, resting his arm along the log behind you. “So, what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” he asked with a playful smirk, his voice low and smooth.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Really? That’s the line you’re going with….again?”

He grinned, his teeth catching the firelight. “What can I say? I’m trying to impress the mysterious nurse who keeps patching me up .”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest was undeniable. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re trying to get on my good side.”

“Is it working?” he asked, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a near-whisper.

You glanced at him, your heart skipping a beat. “Maybe.”

Bucky’s grin softened into something more sincere. His gaze lingered on you, and for a moment, the weight of the war, the mission, everything else faded away. It was just the two of you, suspended in this fleeting moment of peace.

He reached up, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” he murmured.

You felt your breath catch, your pulse quickening. “Bucky…”

“I mean it,” he said, his eyes locking onto yours. “You’re strong, smart, brave… and you’ve got this way of making me forget everything else, even when the world’s falling apart.”

His words broke through the walls you’d spent years building. Before you could stop yourself, you leaned in, and he met you halfway. His lips were warm and soft against yours, the kiss tender but filled with a quiet intensity. Time seemed to stop as the world melted away, leaving only the warmth of his touch and the steady beat of his heart.

When you finally pulled back, your eyes were wet with tears. Bucky frowned, his thumb gently brushing your cheek.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice filled with concern. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, struggling to find the words. “I don’t know what to do,” you admitted, your voice trembling.

Bucky’s expression softened, and he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs tracing gentle circles on your cheeks. “Then let me show you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, his own tears on his waterline threatening to spill. “Stay. Please stay, for me.”

Your heart shattered at his plea. The sincerity in his eyes, the quiet desperation in his voice—it was almost too much to bear. But you couldn’t. Not when you knew the mission, the weight of your responsibilities, and the secrets you carried. You’d always been a ghost, moving through life without leaving traces behind. How could you let yourself stay, knowing the danger you brought with you?

“I can’t,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I wish I could, but I can’t.”

Bucky’s brows furrowed, his hands dropping slightly. “Why not? What’s stopping you?”

You looked away, tears streaming down your face. “Because… I don’t get to have this,” you said quietly. “People like me… we don’t get happy endings.”

Bucky stared at you, his jaw tightening. “That’s bullshit,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “You deserve this just as much as anyone else.”

You shook your head, your hands trembling. “You don’t understand—if I stay, things could fall apart. I’m not meant to… to put down roots. To belong.”

Bucky reached for your hand, holding it tightly. “If that’s what you’ve been told, they’re wrong. You don’t have to carry all of this alone. Whatever’s weighing on you… let me help.”

You squeezed his hand, your tears falling freely now. “I wish I could. But this isn’t goodbye, Bucky. Not really.”

His grip tightened, his eyes filled with pain. “How do you know?”

You gave him a shaky smile, your heart aching. “Because feeling this… it’s the kind of thing that changes everything. No matter where life takes us, I’ll find you again. I promise.”

Bucky pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he could keep you from slipping away. His breath was warm against your hair, and for a moment, you let yourself believe in the impossible. In a different world, maybe you could stay. Maybe you could let yourself love him the way you wanted to.

But for now, you clung to him, memorising the feel of his embrace, the sound of his heartbeat. This wasn’t the end. You wouldn’t let it be.

The fire burned low, its warmth fading, but neither of you moved. Instead, you lay back together on a blanket you’d pulled from the medical tent. The stars stretched endlessly above, their light soft and comforting.

Bucky shifted, his arm wrapping protectively around you as you rested your head against his chest. His heartbeat was steady, grounding you in the moment. He let out a soft sigh, his voice breaking the silence.

“When I was a kid, Steve and I used to sneak up onto the roof of our building,” he said quietly. “We’d lie there, looking at the stars, talking about all the things we were gonna do someday.”

You smiled faintly, imagining a pre-serum Steve beside him, small but full of fight. “What did you talk about?”

Bucky chuckled, the sound low and fond. “Steve always had big dreams. He wanted to do something that mattered. Join the army, help people, change the world.” He paused, his voice softening. “Didn’t care that he was too small, too sick. He just wanted to be better, to do better.”

You closed your eyes, the image of Steve Rogers—Captain America—so different now. But to Bucky, he was still that skinny kid with more heart than anyone.

“And what about you?” you asked gently.

Bucky hesitated, his hand absently tracing small circles on your shoulder. “Me? I just wanted to keep him safe. Steve’s always been the brave one. I just… I wanted to make sure he didn’t get himself killed chasing those dreams.”

His words were filled with so much quiet love, it made your heart ache. You lifted your head slightly, meeting his gaze. “You’re braver than you give yourself credit for.”

Bucky smiled, his hand brushing over your hair. “Maybe. But I think you’re the brave one here.”

You rested your head against his chest again, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. “We both are.”

The silence stretched once more, comfortable and grounding. The crackle of the fire and the distant sounds of the camp blended with the soft rustle of the trees.

Bucky’s voice broke the stillness. “Did you have someone like that?” he asked, his tone thoughtful. “A sibling? A close friend?”

You paused, your mind drifting back. “I didn’t have siblings,” you said slowly. “But I had a friend. Her name’s Natasha.” You smiled softly at the memory, though a hint of sadness crept into your voice. “She was like a sister to me. Strong, stubborn, always looking out for me.”

Bucky’s eyes softened. “She sounds like someone you could count on.”

“She was,” you said, your voice tinged with regret. “We went through a lot together, but… I haven’t seen her in years.”

He squeezed your shoulder gently. “Think you’ll see her again?”

You stared up at the stars, your heart heavy with longing. “I hope so. But with the way things are… who knows?”

Bucky nodded, his thumb brushing over your arm in a soothing motion. “If she’s anything like you, she’s still out there, fighting her own battles. And when the time’s right, you’ll find your way back to each other.”

You swallowed hard, his words offering a comfort you didn’t realize you needed. “I hope you’re right.”

The two of you fell into silence again, but it wasn’t empty. The weight of your shared stories, your losses and hopes, filled the space between you.

As the night deepened, you knew this moment wouldn’t last forever. But for now, you let yourself have it, holding onto Bucky like he was your anchor in a storm you couldn’t escape. Beneath the stars, in the quiet of the night, the war and the mission felt distant, like a different world entirely.

You stood near the edge of the camp, the glow of the setting sun casting long shadows across the field. The soldiers of the 107th were regrouping, preparing to move out. You spotted Bucky in the distance, his silhouette unmistakable as he spoke with his men. His voice was calm, commanding, but you could see the tension in his posture. He was ready for the next fight, even if his heart wasn’t.

And so were you.

You adjusted the strap of your satchel, your fingers brushing over the hidden compartment containing the files. This would be your last night here. By dawn, you’d be gone, pulled back to the time you belonged. Everything you’d built here—every connection, every moment—would be left behind.

But Bucky.

He made his way toward you, each step heavy with the knowledge of what was about to happen. When he stopped in front of you, the space between you felt impossibly small yet vast, like an ocean you were both struggling to cross.

“You’re leaving,” he said, his voice low, not a question but a statement, tinged with quiet resignation.

You nodded, your throat tight. “I have to.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched, his eyes flickering with emotions he wasn’t voicing. He looked down for a moment, then slowly reached up, pulling something from around his neck. His dog tags caught the fading light as they dangled from his fingers, the metal clinking softly.

He held them out to you, his hand steady even as his voice wavered. “Take these.”

You stared at the tags, your heart twisting. “Bucky, I can’t—”

“Please,” he interrupted, his gaze locking onto yours. “I want you to have them, please”

You hesitated, the weight of the moment settling over you. These weren’t just tags. They were a piece of him, a symbol of his identity, of the man he was here and now. Taking them felt like crossing a line you weren’t sure you could bear.

But when you looked into his eyes, the quiet plea there shattered any resistance you had. Slowly, you reached out and took the tags, the cool metal pressing into your palm. Your fingers curled around them tightly, as if holding onto them would somehow keep him closer.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Bucky gave a small, sad smile, his hand brushing against yours briefly before he let it fall. “Just… promise me you won’t forget.”

Your chest tightened, tears welling in your eyes. “I couldn’t if I tried.”

The silence stretched between you, filled with everything you couldn’t say. You wanted to tell him how much he meant to you, how this short time together had changed something inside you. But the words stuck in your throat, buried under the weight of your mission and the future you knew awaited him.

Bucky reached up, gently cupping your face with one hand, his thumb brushing away a tear that slipped down your cheek. “You’ve been trained to disappear,” he said softly, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “But not from me.”

You choked back a sob, your hands gripping the dog tags like a lifeline. “I’ve never had this before,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I don’t know how to say goodbye.”

His hand slipped down, his fingers intertwining with yours. “Then don’t,” he whispered, begging one last time. “Stay. Please. Stay for me.”

Your heart broke at his words, the sincerity in his voice cutting through every defense you had left. But you knew you couldn’t. Staying here would risk everything—the mission, the future, his life.

“I can’t,” you said, your voice cracking. “I wish I could, but you know I can’t.”

Bucky’s grip tightened on your hand, his eyes searching yours for something, anything to hold onto. “Why?” he asked, his voice raw. “Why does it have to be like this?”

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “Because this isn’t my time, this isn’t our time” you said quietly.

Bucky’s eyes glistened, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to argue, to beg you to stay again. But instead, he nodded slowly, his hand lingering on yours for a heartbeat longer.

“Then I’ll wait,” he said, his voice filled with quiet determination. “No matter how long it takes.”

Tears streamed down your face as you gave him a shaky smile. “You won’t have to wait forever.”

With one last, lingering glance, Bucky leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. The warmth of his lips, the steady presence of his touch, imprinted itself in your memory, a moment you knew you’d carry with you for the rest of your life.

When he pulled back, he let his hand fall, his eyes never leaving yours. “Take care of yourself doll,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion.

“You too,” you whispered, clutching the dog tags close to your heart.

And then, with every ounce of strength you had left, you turned and walked away. You didn’t look back, knowing that if you did, you might never be able to leave. But with every step, the weight of his dog tags in your hand was a promise—a tether that would guide you back to him.

I could feel you sneaking in, As if you were a mythical thing

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes one shot #1940s!bucky #james barnes x you #james barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader angst

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sacharinee · 1 year ago

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hey! so i’ve noticed all your office references and it’s one of my favourite shows ever <3 i was wondering if you’d write something where the reader and bf!peter are both obsessed with the show and quote it at any given moment, confusing (and probably annoying) everyone around them. i love your fics by the way!!

pairing: bf!peter parker x reader

w/c: 800 ish

a/n: dinnertime with the avengers edition! peter and reader being an annoying power duo. a crap ton of office references obviously. this is so weird and all over the place BUT it was so much fun writing. i tweaked ur request a teeny bit to them simply saying lines from the show, but everyone is just as confused and annoyed lmao i hope ur okay w that!! this is also my first time writing with the avengers so i tried my best on getting them right. thank u so much for requesting this!! i had an entire office marathon playing in the background while writing this

“the food looks great, nat,” you take your seat at the dining table.

“yea, it’s amazing, thanks for cooking tonight,” peter chimes in.

you both are sat at the dinner table in the lavish dining room among the earth’s mightiest heroes, who also happen to be your colleagues.

“wait, where did you learn to make all of this? i never pegged you as a cook,” tony questions.

“i’m not,” the redhead answers, “my fake mother used to make this dish all the time when i was younger,”

“awe, that’s adorable,” thor replies.

“right before she and my fake father sold me and had me brainwashed.”

the others freeze midchew and stare as scott drops his fork against his plate.

nat clears her throat, “so anyways, enjoy,” and takes her seat.

the rest of you begin placing heaps of food onto each other’s plates and digging into the meal in front of you.

“well, um,” tony sips his water, “how ‘bout you kids, get any good action tonight?”

peter raises his eyebrows at him, “us? oh yea, we got a good chase during patrol tonight,”

“it was super fun,” you add.

“well what’d he have on him?” wanda asks.

“he was, uhh,” you purse your lips as you hesitate, playing with the food on your plate and quieted your voice, “a-uh, a wanted animal rapist.”

wanda shakes her head at you in repulsion, regretting having asked you.

“that is so disgusting!” the god announces, food spilling out of his mouth.

“thor, close your mouth, you look like a trout.” steve reprimands.

he dismisses his comment and goes to steal the mashed potatoes, eating straight out of the bowl with no shame.

“did he put up a good fight against you guys?” bucky questions.

“well he wasn’t exactly intimidated by me, i usually let y/n play bad cop while i just web them up,” peter admits.

you’re chewing your food while you watch bucky and your boyfriend converse, “see what i told you? you gotta take control, pete. ask yourself this: would you rather be feared or loved by your enemies?”

“easy,” he answers, “both. i want people to be afraid of how much they love me.”

nat pokes her tongue to her cheek and tilts her head in confusion.

“oh, that reminds me,” you nervously chuckle and pull out the slip tucked into your back pocket, “i need you to pay for my speeding ticket, tony.”

“again?! y/n that’s the second time this month!”

“that criminal guy was a surprisingly fast driver. besides, life is short. drive fast and leave a sexy corpse. it’s one of my mottos.”

“goddamnit, y/n” tony mutters and shakes his head in disappointment.

steve interrupts, “you should listen to him, young lady. seriously, what would happen if you were in a speeding car crash? why do you think those laws are enforced? it’s to keep everyone safe. so you better straighten up the attitude before you get yourself k-”

“cap, you ignorant slut.” you’re tired of everyone treating you and peter like little kids, “you want to talk about being safe? are we forgetting about banner’s little experiment that went wrong the other day? he almost blew up the tower!-”

“wait, what did you just call me?” the soldier looks at you dumbfounded.

“what did i- … what’d i say?”

“you just called me a-”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about. i talk a lot so i learn to just tune myself out.”

“you and me both,” strange clips.

“wow,” you respond, feigning hurt, “sorry i annoyed you with my friendship.”

tony, having enough, intrudes, “you know, i think i have to put you and peter through some training again.”

the boy skeptically squints towards the man and chews his food slowly, “...what type of training?”

“sensitivity training. all this trash talk is-”

“oh my god, not again,” your head falls back as you groan, “i’ve changed, tony. i’ve learned to keep my unmannerly thoughts to myself every time i see someone wearing black socks with white shoes.”

“uh that’s definitely not true,” bucky cuts in, “just yesterday you called me out for wearing sandals.”

“exactly! sandals! who the hell still wears sandals, you look like you just got off the boat. i don't need to see your hairy toes,” you shudder in disgust.

“yea, mr. stark,” peter reverts his attention back to tony, “we don’t talk trash,” he shrugs.

“we talk smack,” you finish.

“okay… and how are those two any different,” the man challenges.

“well,” peter clears his throat, “trash talk is hypothetical. like, ‘your mom is so fat she can eat the internet.’”

“totally,” you eagerly nod your head in agreement, “but smack talk is happening, like, right now. like, ‘you’re ugly and i know it for a fact ’cause i got the evidence right there,” your hand motions in a circle to the person in front of you.

“are you calling me ugly?” thor sniffles.

“i don’t know what the hell you just said, and i don’t even wanna know,” tony wipes his mouth with a napkin, “but it’s happening. nine am sharp, do not be late. it’ll be quick and easy, not that hard. you’ll be in and out without the attitude.”

you pout as you and peter give each other a dismay look.

“that’s what she said.”

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twisted-wonderland-but-gayer · 2 years ago

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Hello I love your writing and wanted to request some headcanons or a short fic. How do you think Apocalypse Yuu would fare on Beans Day? They would probably wipe out everyone though I see them more fit as part of the monster team than the farmers.

Bean Day Massacre

Jade and Yuu are partners in crime. This just me bullying Azul lmao. GN Farmer Yuu

No one stood a chance. What was supposed to be a wholesome sporty activity in the school became a massacre, with the objective of protection of the golden harp switching from stopping Yuu’s madness.

No one knew how powerful a magicless human could possibly be. Not even Azul planned for this as he runs away from Yuu, who merely walks after him, “We had a deal Azul!” They shouted amidst the forest, “You brought this on yourself!”

Azul could only think back to how this all started, as this apex predator of the land continued their slow walk after him…

It all started, just a few hours ago, actually. Azul was making his way over to where the scanner was, his years of planning were not going down the drain! As he approached the area where the supply box was located, he almost let his guard down. Almost.

Just then he heard it. Whimpering and a cry for help. Snapping his head around he searched for where the sound was. “Heeeelpp” the voice rasped again, and Azul realized, it was coming from above him. Azul looked up in absolute horror.

Students, both farmers and monsters were strung up in the forest by their feet using some sort of makeshift rope. They all dangle helplessly, some passed out, some still struggling to get free,

“Careful… this whole area… It's trapped!” One student wheezes. Azul looks behind him before taking a step back in fear, what sort of person would do this? Who would go out of their way to trap their own team? Azul shrunk into his camo as he briefly reconsidered the crate in front of him. But if he was right, it would have the scanner. The item he needed to enact his plan.

“Azul? Is that you?!” The familiar cry of Ace sounded out against the forest. Azul looked around before spotting Ace, dangling closer to the ground. “You gotta help me!” Azul hesitantly approached, starting to untie his teammate, it would be better to have a guide in this area of the forest he supposed. “Just what happened here Trappola?"

“It's Yuu!” Ace whisper-yelled, “They’ve gone crazy! This whole area around the crate the trapped! They’ve been stringing up everyone that goes near it!” “The crate! Where is it? Does it have the scanner?” There is where Azul made his first mistake.

“I don't know! Are you helping me or not?!” Ace yelled making all the groaning of the other students go silent in fear. “Oh no…” Ace muttered. “Oh no no no no no no! Azul you have to untie me! They’re coming!”

Ace held onto Azul's camo and shook him from where he hung. “Hurry they—- AAAAAH!” Suddenly, Ace was yanked up into the trees in a soundless blur, “RUN AZUUUL!” He shrieked. Azul didn't have to think twice. He immediately ran through the forest, Crate be damned.

As he ran he noticed all sorts of strange traps. Ropes, pitfalls, even noisemakers made from rope tied to pots and pans— where did they even get those from?! Azul was so focused on running he didn’t even think of the direction he was running in, before he knew it he stood before the crate he desperately looked for.

Standing in front of it he held his hand out to open it, before pausing. Yuu had this place heavily guarded, this is most likely a trap. He didn’t even know if the loot was still there. The scanner! What is Yuu had the—-

“Looking for this?” Yuu’s crazed voice rang out from above him. Looking up, Azul swallowed, sweat appearing on his face as he stared up at Yuu, fully decked out in camo head to toe, even their face was blending into the environment with the mud they caked on. It was difficult to see how they were even above them with how much they blended in, he could only assume they were on a branch of some sort, yet amidst the confusion, he saw it in their gloved hand: The scanner.

“How did you—-“ “Jade told me. He said you might be looking for this.” So Jade was behind this? Wait, did Yuu get him too? As if reading his mind Yuu responded “He was quiet, so I let him go… The others here not so much…” “What are you planning, Yuu? How are you going to win like this? You're not even getting the harp!”

Yuu suddenly slid down from a rope and hung upside down at perfect level with Azul’s face, the magic camo they wore adjusted accordingly. “This was never about the harp. I can care less about what team wins…” Yuu smirks, and Azul was getting ready for a fight as he reached over to his net—

“Keep it.” Yuu offered out the scanner to Azul suddenly, arm outstretched as they hung upside down. “Unlike you, I don't need it.” “Hah? And how I know this isn’t a trick.” “Because I want to make a deal with you.”

A deal? Was that what this was about? Did Jade set him up for this? “You do realize I cannot use my magic today, right?” “It doesn't involve magic, it's now one of YOUR deals, Azul…” He supposed he had no choice…

“I'm listening...” “Floyd Leech. Keep him away from me, and this scanner is yours.” “Is that it?” “Yes. He wants to fight me despite being on the same team, and I’d rather not deal with it…” Yuu huffed, as they started pulling themselves right side up on the rope they dangled from.

“That can certainly be arranged,” Azul smirks as he takes the scanner and puts it on, highlighting at least a hundred students, all stuck within Yuu’s traps. He swallowed at just how many there were around him. How did they have time to do any of this in just a few hours?

“Oh yeah, and I don't want to deal with Jack either when you inevitably team up with him to face Jade. He’s just annoying. Tried lecturing me on how all these traps are wrong. Anyways….” Yuu pulled themself back up “I permit you to exit this place without worrying about me or my traps. Pleasure doing business…”

And like that, Azul’s second mistake was made. Taking an impossible deal. He supposed this was vengeance for the deal he made with Yuu before, and belittling them, and bullying them, and okay maybe he deserved getting chased through a heavily trapped forest.

Even after capturing Floyd, the moray refused to leave until he found Yuu, meaning they eventually met up again.

Azul continued his pace as he heard Floyd struggle against his fight with Yuu, who inevitably overpowered him and threw Floyd in Azuls direction, making him slide across all the mud right in front of Azul.

What monster could overpower FLOYD of all people? Azul full-on sprinted, hoping to retreat and replan everything. He couldn't lose when he made it this far.

His scanner beeped, telling him of another person nearby. That is when he saw him: Jade watching, reveling in the chaos he sowed. The master planner that had him like this. It was ironic in a way, he wouldn’t usually mind that cruel smirk he wore, but now it was being used against him.

“Why? Why did you do this?” Just then Azul tripped over another rope Yuu had put up making him fall onto his face. Groaning as he looked up at Jade who stood over him he could only blink. “Why? To win of course...” Sacrificing his own brother and his own friend… to win…

“That.. and you and Floyd insulted my mushroom dishes that I worked so hard on…” Jade spoke in mock sadness. “That’s what this was about?!” Azul shrieked out. Just then he felt a pair of hands grab his leg, along with Yuu’s evil chuckle.

“No no! Hold on we can make another deal!” Azul sputtered as Yuu dragged him away. “I am going to string this one up now. It was a pleasure doing business… Jade…” Jade and Yuu exchanged their sadistic smirks as they both parted ways.

This year the farmers won.

#caditinaestussidereum #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #beanfest #apocolypse yuu #jade leech x reader #jade leech #azul ashengrotto

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nompunhere · 2 months ago

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preach the words of treasure planet vore I must here

okayokayokay, so

[warning for major T/reasure P/lanet spoilers ahead, if you haven't seen it I highly recommend it, it's really good, gotta be my favorite didney movie. great animation, great character design, excellent characterization, wonderful plot, the whole shebang]

Silver, he's a big bad pirate, probably no stranger to eating his enemies as a threat, to keep them quiet, or, y'know, silence 'em for good, if you know what I'm saying

Same with Scroop, same absolutely goes for Scroop, hell he'd probably get pretty sadistic with that shit. But I won't go into too much detail on that lmao bc that's not the type of vore I write about on this blog

Silver's stomach is probably pretty cushy, and loud, with a big, strong heartbeat and whooshing breaths, but also, more subtly, mechanical whirs, maybe some beeps and clicks. Especially when he moves. Could probably tell if there's something wrong with his prosthetics from in there, if you hear creaking or grinding, though I'm sure he can also hear/feel that himself anyway. And if he has to use his arm cannon, oh gods, cover your ears. At least it's somewhat muffled, but it's still in point blank range

Scroop's? Cramped, uncomfortable, you can hear all his clicking and scuttling, he probably has pretty crustacean-like innards. Heart(s) in the back, nerve cord in the front, maybe a crop? 99 times out of 100, though, you're uh. probably gonna die;;

I imagine Mr. Arrow would have a pretty rock-solid tumb (ba dum tss). Still some amount of give to it, though, like just a really firm mattress. Not too loud in there. He's very professional, and would probably only eat someone to protect them, but he does have his soft moments. He probably would've eaten Captain Amelia at least a few times in the past, if she were injured/incapacitated in combat, but maybe also sometimes as an act of platonic bonding?

Doctor Doppler, 100% a nervous pred, constantly fussing over his prey, asking them if it's alright in there, comfortable enough, checking if they need anything, etc. Very soft and cushy in there, mans is not a fighter lmao. Stomach probably grumbles a lot from all his nerves

Now, Jim, perfect prey material. We know he overworks himself when he's trying to impress Silver, or when he's. ridden with guilt. Perfect opportunity to give that boi a forced break (and/or comfort him for the latter scenario)

However, I have like. one solid TP fic idea, and I don't know if I'll ever write it and you know I get way too eager to share my fic ideas and WIPs, so here's a summary

The scene where the pirates are all discussing the mutiny, and accusing Silver of going soft, but Scroop successfully finds Jim and pulls him out of the barrel. Silver, panicking a little, swipes Jim away, and to prove he's not "gone soft," gulps the terrified cabin boy down.

Jim, of course, is scared, and angry, and betrayed, and genuinely thinks he's going to die. Silver's not helping at first, playing it up, going into how the boy means nothing to him and soon he'll be "taken care of," gone without a trace, maybe slapping his belly for emphasis

And then as soon as all the other pirates are out of earshot, he's rushing to tell Jim he'll be fine, Jim is obviously not having it, and Silver's like "Jimbo, stop strugglin' lad, they need ta think yer dead, I've got a plan. Trust me. Please."

What happens from there? Phuck if I know ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I'm sure it would throw off the whole plot though

-----------------------------------------

Sexual and irl vore/weight gain blogs DNI and all that

#ask #extreme cuddling #vore headcanons #fandom vore #nonsexual vore #nsx vore #swwh #t/reasure p/lanet vore #tp vore #those tags are mostly for personal/organizational use #idk if anyone would find them from searching

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apprenticestanheight · 1 year ago

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heyy, i’m here requesting being loyal to my word lol, i have this little idea where adam is stalking/taking pics reader for a job and actually gets like obsessed ?? with them and tries to awkwardly make a move lmao, and obviously this happens before the bathroom events, idk if this idea sucks i just miss my pookie💔

Aldis- A.S x gn! reader

I love this idea so much and writing it was so fun!! Thank you so much for sending it in, writing for Adam is definitely a blast lol

Fic type- this is fluffy!!

Warnings- shitty bosses are implied, and the prices that are mentioned are inaccurate (I looked up aldi grocery prices and then adjusted for inflation by like, a dollar or two lol), stalk-ish behavior is mentioned (adam talks about trailing you going to and from work), cigarettes and smoking are mentioned a few times and Adam might be a little ooc

It started off as a job. Adam found himself hired by your employer to see what it was, exactly, that you did on the way to work and from it. Adam didn't want to know why your boss had wanted to know that of you and the money was good enough to not question it, so he went along with the words of your boss because the money, in the end, helped him pay rent on the shitty apartment he called home.

It started, apparently, because you'd come late to work a couple of mornings in a row with a variety of different excuses--the rain on a day of downpour, your car had broken down, your car was in the shop, your alarms weren't working--but Adam didn't bother to question that, either. He got his camera, he trailed you, he developed the photos and took them to your boss in exchange for cash that could be either devoted to making the rent or buying cigarettes.

Eventually, what was originally just a job became something a bit more for him. He caught himself genuinely caring about you, trailing you not because your boss asked but to make sure you got home without issue.

Care became infatuation, and infatuation got Adam Stanheight where he was--standing inside an Aldi Supermarket at six in the evening on a crisp day in late summer-early fall, having pretended to bump into you in the candle section, of all places, while he shopped Aldi for the deals that he could get on groceries as he needed them anyway.

"Shit!" Adam cursed, catching the candle you held before it could hit the ground on the basis of nothing but luck. "I am so sorry--I barely know my way around this area. I don't typically come down here, but the shop near my apartment is closed for renovations and I needed to grab groceries." Not entirely a lie--you lived in a different spot in New Jersey than he had, but only twenty minutes in a car, and the shop near his apartment where he could've grabbed groceries was closed, so it was Aldis and their bargain deals on any and everything both out of necessity and his minds desire to make a move.

"Oh, no worries!" You laughed. "Seriously--I don't know my way around here either, I typically shop somewhere else, but stuff has happened at work so I gotta do what I gotta do."

Adam had stopped taking photos of you only two days before, having been let go from the job after 'complications' according to your boss.

Adam was trying to flirt, but the flirting part of getting someone to give you their number was not quite his strong suit.

"So," you said. "There must've been another shop in your area. What brings you here?"

"You know that it's impossible to pass on ground beef at 99 cents a pound," Adam said, laughing. "Or a dozen eggs for $1.35, or milk for the low low price of $1.86--it's a rough economy and I am doing my best."

You laughed, and Adams heart gave a funny little flip. "$200 gets you a fuck ton more here than it does anywhere else. I've got candle money, which is nice to have again."

"Are things at work all right?" Adam asked, a feeble attempt at flirting that probably came off a bit too invasive. "Shit--there I go. Asking the way too personal questions. You don't have to answer that, we barely know each other and I don't mean to be invasive."

"My boss has cut my hours in half, is all," you said, shrugging. "I'll be looking for a new job next week, do you know anybody?"

"Nobody reputable," Adam said. "Not that I work with people who aren't, but--"

"What do you do, and what's your name? I'd like to put a name to a handsome face."

"My name is Adam Stanheight," he said. "I take photos."

"Subject matter?"

"PI stuff," Adam said. "I am a glorified snitch, basically, but the money is good."

"Well, glorified snitch," you said. "My name is Y/N and I work in marketing. You ever wanna make a career switch, give me a call."

You passed him your number, and Adam found himself in awe just a bit. He'd fumbled his way through flirting with you like it was the act of trying to share a cigarette and he was a first-time smoker, and you'd flirted like it was nothing.

"What if I don't want to make a career switch?"

"Call me anyway," you said. "We can shop at Aldis together and I can tell you all about the woes of my life in the frozen fruit aisle."

You walked away thereafter, and Adam was left to stand, his cart to his left, in awe.

#adam stanheight #adam faulkner stanheight #adam faulkner stanheight x reader #adam stanheight x reader #saw #saw franchise #saw 2004

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midnxght-sweet-time · 2 years ago

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Tart thief is so good omg, we need more dom Riddle smut.

Reader gonna be pregnant after all of those cream pies Riddle gave her lmaooooo

Thank youuuusssss qwq im so glad someone gave me a comment on it even if its just one. I wasnt really sure about the quality of the writing cuz to be fair— I was writing it on copium hydroxide for an upcoming test and during english class cuz i had just that alot of free time lmao

Also that– the smut- was pretty much the first time Ive ever written smut honestly. I mean I have written one or two before but they were more or less short scenarios than part of a fic. So I hope they were atleast acceptable ^^

Anyways enuf with how i wrote it- YES we need more dom Riddle. Tbf theres alot of Riddle content honestly but not enough about Riddle going for the 'punish the darling' trope. Cuz lets be honest- we kinda think Riddle is usually more lenient towards a darling unless its a toxic relationship/angsts which I dont mind- :DD

Shameless plug but I am currently working on a Beta!Riddle fic. It wont be smut but I want to explore the concept of bratty little tyrant cuz NO ONE TALKS MUCH ABOUT HIM AND HIS POTENTIAL–

But OH BOI- Riddle may be in the zone now when his still folding you down and driving his cock in your hole but I imagine the aftermath of that scenario is that you gotten so stimulated, you passed out and the moment Riddle found you limp on his table— PANIC- did he go too far? Oh no-

Dw- cuz he will make it up to you by cleaning you up, cuddling with your unconcious body and maybe placing those hot water bags (heater water bags? I forgot what their called-) on your thighs and lower abdomen in hopes that will soothe your arching.

But then the next morning when Riddle is drowsy but also not in a sex drive mode, he realised: oh shit– he may have gotten his darling pregnant. My guy gotta pray to the great sevens he did you on a safe day or a miracle is about to happened. And if you do come back with a positive pregnancy test– PANIC— again cuz this is a way worse problem than some sore thighs

But you two can work things out right? Im sure Crowley would understand you got a little— touchy with your partner and everyone knows how much you like the strawberry boi. If they dont, they do now-

Good thing is, Riddle has you all to himself now :DD and you two can start a family. Riddle can have a child and hope once he graduates he can live with you and love you forever ♡

Just make sure you know to ask for his permission on tarts next time okay? If you want spend the night with him you couldve just asked ;))

#twisted wonderland riddle #yandere riddle rosehearts #twst riddle #riddle rosehearts #riddle twst #twst riddle x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader

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ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 2 years ago

Text

𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 - Tom Bennett

Oh boy, this one's...a lot lmao. My first fic of the year and probably the only one for awhile. I was so stoked to write it so hopefully anyone who reads this is stoked about it too. This took so long, especially cause I have a super tedious boring class this semester, hence why I'm not writing as much as I used to. But here it is, primed and ready for ya. Enjoy!

Summary: You and Tom work at the same FBI agency, the both of you having a tense rivalry. Sprinkle a little friends-with-benefits relationship on top of that while going on an undercover mission where you must get along to get the job done, what could go wrong?

Warnings: modern!special agent!Tom Bennet, undercover mission (haha the title, get it, okay..), enemies (?) to lovers/rivals to lovers, more like FWB to lovers, Tom's kind of a dick (so is reader) but like to protect himself (and some misogyny, also to protect himself), smoking, tw guns (violence and injury), slight whump, oo boy this one's gotta lot of gratuitous SMUT (MINORS DNI), dubcon-ish, fingering, forced exhibitionism, public sex (kinda)...on a plane, oral (m and f!receiving), ANGST and feels, teasing, jealousy, possessiveness, kinda toxic relationship, confessions, eventual fluff, light dom/sub vibes, orgasm denial and control, slight praise kink and degradation, conveniences will convenience (all I know about undercover missions is what I watched on White Chicks okay, so don't expect some well thought out plans)

word count | 10.8k (oops)🤙🏻

You weren’t planning on signing up for a high risk mission when you went into your agency’s meeting this morning, but something overtook you when you learned Tom would be going on this mission as well.

You never planned to care about him ever since the two of you got involved. You were just coworkers with a little something on the side, nothing serious. In fact, the two of you hated each other ever since you started working with him. You both always took every chance to one up each other, trying to clamber over one another to get higher rankings in your profession, never hesitant to step on each other’s toes to succeed.

The two of you only started hooking up almost a year ago. You were both drunk, celebrating another hard won mission and it just happened. You both were lonely, your profession not always making it easy to trust someone who’s not yourself. It was purely transactional. But then Tom started being more vulnerable with you, making you laugh and happier than you had been before you met him. It made your head spin. You thought about calling it off immediately, but the sex was just so good, his company even more, and you did actually start to care for the man.

Though, it made your rivalry at work dial the intensity up to eleven, taking out your frustrations on each other when the sun went down. But the look Tom was giving you after you had volunteered to your director, you had a feeling your benefits relationship might end sooner than you’d like.

After the meeting ended, you walked out with the onslaught of other agents that were desperate to beat the five o'clock traffic to get home. But you were yanked back by Tom, him grabbing your arm and forcing you to trail behind your other coworkers. “Take it back.” He seethed.

“What?” You bit back, your brows furrowing and instinctively trying to pull back from him.

“What? You know what. Tell our director you changed your mind.”

You scoffed, ripping your arm out of his bruising grip. “No, fuck you.”

“You did this to annoy me, I get it. Good job, you fucking succeeded, now take it back. This is my mission. I don’t need you getting in my way.”

“I’m just as good of an agent as you, dickhead. If anything, you’d be in my way. Now stop complaining, cause I’m not gonna change my mind. So, are we done now? Or are you going to continue whining like a little pussy?”

Tom only growled in response as he stormed off, throwing a tantrum like he often did when he didn’t get his way. It didn’t deter you. This mission would do wonders for your career, it would surely boost your rank to a higher level. No amount of whining from anyone was going to make you miss that opportunity.

Suffice to say, Tom didn’t show up for his nightly visit at your apartment. It was probably for the best, he’d just spend the entire time trying to make you quit the mission. But you were too determined, and you weren’t one to chicken out. You needed to prove to yourself that you could take on a mission such as this.

When you came into work the next morning for the debriefing, Tom was standing up against his car smoking a cigarette, clearly waiting for you. You only scoffed and walked past him, but he didn’t take too kindly to that. “Have you changed your mind yet?” He asked as he stood in front of you to block your path, blowing smoke in your face because he knew how much that annoyed you.

“Like I said yesterday, Bennett: I’m not changing my fucking mind.”

This time when you tried to walk past him, he let you. You could hear him angrily stomping out his cigarette with the sole of his shoe before he sped up to walk beside you into the agency building.

You, Tom, and your handler all lined up in front of your director to go over what the mission would entail. It was intense, the most difficult mission you would probably ever have. You were tasked with helping catch a crime boss. The man would be at a hotel on an island resort in the middle of the Caribbean. Your agency’s sources say that he’s planning on making a big deal in order to gain a new ally. Guns, ammunition, drugs, so many things you both would need to be on the lookout for. It was intimidating to be sure, but not enough to scare you away like you knew Tom was hoping for. No, you wouldn’t give in that easily. You were up for the task. You wanted to do anything you could to put away such an evil man.

But clearly, Tom didn’t notice the pure determination on your face as you walked out of the debriefing. “How ‘bout now?”

“Nope. Stop asking. I’ll keep telling you the same thing again and again.”

“This isn’t some low risk mission, L/n. We’re not trying to catch a fuckin’ lowlife predator here. This is a crime boss. An extremely dangerous man that can have us killed with one word if he even suspects what we’re doing there. Don’t you get that?” Tom whisper shouted, trying not to draw attention to himself despite the outburst, poking into your collarbone roughly.

“Do you really think I’m that stupid?”

“Stupider.”

You rolled your eyes. “I know what I’m getting myself into, Bennett. I wouldn’t have signed up otherwise.” Honestly, it wasn’t the danger of getting killed that made you nervous about this mission, it was the fact that you and Tom would have to pretend to be newlyweds on your honeymoon. A perfect cover for where you two were going. It almost made you laugh.

All your time preparing to travel to this island, Tom would barely talk to you, only glaring at you and giving you one word responses or hums whenever you’d try to talk to him. If he wanted to be petty, fine. You could be petty too, not in front of your boss though, unfortunately. You were sure if your boss knew what you and Tom got up to outside of office hours, he would not be sending you on this mission with him. Although it was well known how you and Tom rivaled with each other throughout the workplace, you had to be somewhat professional, up until you were alone with him of course. You had no idea how you’d be able to share a bedroom with him without resorting to killing each other…or refrain from hate fucking each other. Even the morning plane ride over would be difficult, especially with the way Tom kept looking at you.

“Ya know, it wouldn’t be too late to back out. No one would judge you.” Tom spoke up as you both were waiting to board your flight.

You just kept your mouth shut tightly, just so not in the mood to argue with the man at such an early hour, especially since you weren’t able to have caffeine. You prayed you could just sleep all during the flight without arguing or crying babies. There weren’t babies on the plane, but Tom didn’t seem to notice your purposeful ‘don’t talk to me’ bitch face. Either that, or he just didn’t care.

“I still don’t think you’re ready for this.”

“Did I ask for your opinion, Bennett? No, I didn’t, so shut the fuck up.”

Tom only smirked, smug that he managed to get under your skin once again. “You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met.” He whispered, shaking his head and leaning back in his seat.

“Oh, the feeling is mutual.”

The animosity didn’t end there like you hoped it would, instead Tom took it upon himself to try to embarrass you as much as possible. You gave him a stern look as you started to feel his hand reach underneath your thin blanket to trail up your thigh. “Do not.” You scowled, trying to push his hand away but ultimately failing. He was too strong.

You inhaled sharply as he cupped your center roughly, wincing before glaring at him. Your glare faltered as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. “You think you can talk to me that way?” He teased gruffly, forcing his hand in your sweatpants and underwear, a surprisingly soft smile pulling at his lips as he felt the slick that was pooling at your entrance. “Whore.”

You gripped onto his forearm tightly as he toyed with your clit, purposely digging your nails into his skin to try to get him to stop, but all he did was wince and pinch you, causing you to gasp. You quickly put your hand over your mouth and subtly looked around to see if anyone noticed, but everyone seemed to be sleeping or occupied with something else. Truthfully, no one was even thinking of glancing in your direction, but you were so paranoid that you’d be caught. “I don’t want to get an indecent exposure fine, Bennett.” You snarled, trying to come off as angry as you were, but Tom’s fingers had already tamed you into a state of submission as they had done so many times before. It wasn’t any less irritating, but god, he was good with his hands.

You flinched in your seat as Tom pushed two of his fingers inside you right off the bat, your eyes briefly rolling to the back of your skull, trying not to moan by taking slow deep breaths. You were suddenly very thankful that you spent so many of your younger years trying to keep as quiet as possible while masturbating so as to not alert any potential family members in the same house of what you got up to in the privacy of your own room, but this felt way more difficult.

You whimpered into your palm as Tom’s dexterous fingers curled against that sensitive spot along the front of your walls, biting into your own skin to keep your whines in your throat, your brows furrowing obviously to anyone that might pay attention. “Fuck.” You cried softly, looking up at Tom with pleading eyes as your chest heaved against your now suffocating t-shirt. “I can’t.”

“You can, darling.”

To make matters worse, the seatbelt sign turned off.

People around you started to rise up out of their seats to get stuff out of their carry-ons or go to the bathroom, and the flight attendants started to make their rounds to give the passengers their stupid complimentary peanuts. And of course, a flight attendant peaked around your row with a smile right as you felt your climax grow rapidly. You bit the inside of your lip hard, feeling the metallic taste of blood coat your tongue.

“Hello there, we’re handing out some crisps, pretzels, and candy if you’d like any.” The lady asked you politely, hopefully completely unaware of what was going on beneath your blanket. You quickly shook your head, a pained hum escaping your lips as Tom focused his efforts on your clit. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, I’m okay. Just a stomachache.” You lied, the wavering timbre in your voice bringing a sympathetic frown to the flight attendant’s face.

“Oh, dear, I’m sorry. I can bring you a Sierra Mist, if you’d like?”

Jesus Christ, lady, just fucking go away. “No, thank you. Really, I’m fine.” You cleared your throat a bit too loudly to cover up an oncoming moan, your face flushing with heat as a couple people from other rows looked over at you curiously.

“Okay. And how about you?” The lady directed her attention to Tom, who did not even attempt to hide his smug smirk. “Would you like any snacks, sir?”

“No, thanks, miss. I brought my own.” Cheeky bastard.

“Okay, well, we’re almost to our destination. So, make sure all your belongings are overhead before we land.” And with that, the flight attendant finally left you to continue suffering.

“I’m going to kill you.” You hissed, slapping Tom’s shoulder as you allowed your head to lean back against the chair as you felt the first pangs of euphoria wash over you. You grit your teeth and leaned forward to cover your face with your hands, hiding your orgasm face from Tom and the rest of the plane. You took shuddering breaths as you rode out your high, tapping his arm aggressively when pleasure veered into oversensitivity.

You felt your ears pop as the plane lowered closer to the ground. You didn’t even realize the pilot had spoken before you felt the plane bank to the right, unintentionally forcing you to lean closer to Tom, whose face you couldn’t even stand to look at. He pulled his hand away from you, making you look at the mess you made on his fingers. You looked away in fury as he started to suck on his fingers, quietly moaning at the taste of you. You could hear his chuckles as you refused to watch him mock you.

“Hope you had a good flight!” The same flight attendant lady chirped as you and Tom exited the plane.

Fuck you, you so badly wanted to say, but Tom didn’t allow that. As if he could sense your hostility (that he caused) and unwillingness to imitate niceties, he quickly uttered out a polite thanks before guiding you off the plane like you were a child who couldn’t take care of themselves.

Man, this was going to be a long, miserable “vacation.”

You would be lying if you said you weren’t impressed with the honeymoon suite you’d be staying in. Though, checking in was a nightmare. You never thought pretending to be all coupley and in love was part of the job description. Alas, you walked into the lobby with Tom’s arm around your shoulder and the two of you wearing the most genuine fake smiles you could muster. One plus was you had already spotted one of the crime boss’ henchmen.

“Are you sure?” Tom had asked.

Of course you were sure. You had studied every picture of every face the agency presented you with, down to the freckles and moles they may have had. You weren’t going to fuck this up, you’d never live it down; Tom would make sure of it.

You both informed your handler that you made it safely to the resort, already finding evidence that the crime boss was indeed there too. You just had to lay low, look out, and not get caught. This is what you lived for, it was so exhilarating and you wouldn’t let Tom ruin this for you.

“We should head down to the pool, see if we can spot another guy.” You voiced, pulling out your bathing suit from your suitcase, but Tom stopped you by placing a hand on yours. “What, Bennett? We can’t waste time on this.”

“You still haven’t paid me back for what I did for you on the plane.” He spoke with a dark lust in his eyes, his pupils almost completely swallowing his bright blue iris’.

You rolled yours. “I didn’t ask for that, if you recall.” You said with a scoff and moved to get changed, but he didn’t let you go, instead forcing you to your knees where you found his already hardened cock trying to burst through his tight shorts. You silently cursed to yourself as you already found yourself throbbing at the sight of him looking down at you hungrily.

“Well? My cock ain’t gonna suck itself.”

You resisted the urge to smile, lifting your hand to gently palm his cock through his shorts before tugging them down, your mouth watering as it bobbed up at you. Tom hummed as you licked a stripe up the underside of his dick, even the slightest of approval making you whine as you squeezed your thighs together.

“Uh, uh.” Tom rebuked, lifting you up from the floor to make you sit at the edge of the king sized bed, forcing your legs apart and standing in between them. “None of that. No pleasure for you. Just be a good little whore and suck me off.” He threaded his fingers into your hair, curling his hand into a fist to tug at your roots, pushing you forward until your lips hit the tip of his cock. On instinct, you wrapped your lips around him and sucked hard, earning a guttural groan from him. “That’s it.” He didn’t hesitate to buck into you, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag just to tease you. He kept doing that until tears were streaming down your face, causing him to smirk. “So pretty.” He whispered, wiping a tear away with his thumb, but continuing to fuck your mouth with little care how you felt.

Meanwhile, you didn’t know if you were crying because his cock kept making you gag or because you had absolutely zero stimulation to your clit. It was throbbing painfully, and Tom still kept your legs apart. Was this still punishment for talking back to him on the plane? He was one of the most pettiest men you had ever known, so you wouldn’t put it past him. But not allowing you to pleasure yourself felt like a new low, even for him.

Your hands gripped onto his thighs, squeezing them whenever you needed a break, him pulling away briefly to let you breathe before slamming back into you again. But he was close, you could tell. The way his moans got louder and breathier, and his hold on you tightened to the point you were almost afraid he’d rip the hairs out of your head. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come.” He announced with a groan, stilling in your mouth as his release shot down the back of your throat.

Tom slowly loosened his hold on you as he tried to catch his breath, petting and soothing the spot on your head where he gripped the hardest. “Okay…” He spoke with a stutter. “Yeah, let me clean up and I’ll meet you at the pool in a few minutes.” And with that, he left you sitting on the bed while he locked himself in the bathroom.

Well, that was a little odd, you thought. But you didn’t think about it any further. You quickly got changed and headed down to the pool, hoping a short dip would rid you of the overwhelming heat you felt in your body from not being able to do anything about your arousing situation. No matter, if Tom wasn’t going to help you out then you’d just get yourself off in the shower that night. You had bigger issues to deal with at the moment.

Scanning over the crowd at the extravagant looking pool, you couldn’t seem to spy any persons out of the ordinary. Just a bunch of families and couples and the occasional old rich woman. Feeling a bit disheartened, you sat down on a poolside chair with a quiet huff, throwing your towel over the backrest and laying out, the sun quickly warming your skin. It felt nice, but it would feel even nicer if you knew you weren’t on the clock.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Tom’s voice jolted you out of your sunbathing intermission, now sporting his own pair of swimming trunks and tank top, any sign of being flustered from your previous tryst was completely gone. Only now, you could tell he was flustered for a different reason.

It probably wasn’t necessary, but you had bought a bit of a slutty bathing suit for this occasion. You figured if on the off chance you had to seduce a criminal, it would be best to do it in an outfit that showed off all your…assets. It definitely seemed to be working on Tom. Maybe it could work on someone else. “My super special undercover swimsuit. What about you, Mr. Palm Trees?” You teased, eyeing his obnoxious colored print on his shorts.

“It’s called looking the part, wife. We’re on our honeymoon, not a dating show.” And with that, Tom lifted his tank up and off himself, the sight of his toned torso making heat flood to the apex of your thighs. He smirked when he caught you staring. “Think you’re drooling a bit, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that.” You chided, but it only made Tom chuckle. You huffed in defeat, returning to your previous position of subtly checking out the tenants around the pool.

“We should go in.” Tom gestured to the pool, but before you could refuse, “We have to look believable, remember? Who goes to a pool and doesn’t get in the water?”

You couldn’t hide your clenched jaw as you rose from your seat, standing at the edge of the concrete ground and delicately dipping your toes in the chlorine loaded water to check the temperature. It wasn’t too cold, but you’d definitely wanted to slowly ease your way in. Unfortunately, Tom didn’t give you much of a choice, promptly pushing you off the edge. Your body tensed up as the cool water enveloped you, goosebumps rising all over your body as you quickly came up for air, gasping loudly. You wore a deep scowl on your face as Tom’s boisterous laughter polluted the area, able to hear it even when you were submerged. “Arsehole.” You spat, splashing water up at him aggressively.

“So, you wouldn’t have done the exact same thing to me if you had the chance?” He raised a brow, his crooked smile on display, the sight making unwanted flutters swirl in your stomach.

“Touché.” You grumbled. “Still a dick move.” Tom didn’t waste anymore time on land, crouching and leaping into the water, careful not to let the water go above his head. He swam over to you with a mischievous look on his face, and to you, that only meant one thing. “Don’t come anywhere near me.” You warned.

“Oh, come on, Mrs. Bennett. I don’t bite.” He teased, taking your unamused expression as a sign to grab your hips and pull you onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist and holding you up by your bottom effortlessly thanks to the water. You had no choice but to let him, not willing to risk your cover. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders reluctantly, trying your best to wear a loving smile on your face. But you soon faltered as Tom leaned in close, his lips right next to your ear. “I know this isn’t what you wanted when signing up for this mission, but you have to at least tolerate it. Behind closed doors when no one is around, you can bitch and whine all you like; but in public, you have to be in love with me.” He pulled away to look into your eyes seriously. “Understand, wife?”

You swallowed your pride and smirked seductively. “I understand, dear husband.” You took advantage of his slight surprise and captured his lips in a searing kiss, the cold feeling of the water not comparing to how heated this kiss felt. Tongue and teeth clashed with each other as you retaliated in the only way you could at that moment, biting his bottom lip hard before pulling away with a sickeningly sweet smile. Tom’s eyes darkened as he gripped your hips tighter, causing you to wince. He looked as though he was going to lean back in for another kiss, but you spotted someone, in the corner of your eye. You hugged Tom, using the position to whisper in his ear just as he’d done to you. “Another henchman.”

“Are you sure?”

“There’s a bulge at the base of his spine, covered by his shirt and jacket.”

“Who wears a jacket at a pool?”

“Exactly. 9 mm is my guess.”

“That’s a lazy guess. Wanna bet? .38.”

“Wow. Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

“Wait-”

You quickly interrupted him by pushing his head below the water’s surface, ruining his perfectly styled up hair. He came up with a scowl, ready to scold you, but before you could allow him to, you pushed him off and you got out of the pool. Drying yourself off and giving a wink to a now distressed Tom, you made your way to one of the bars that served the hotel guests.

You were a decent actor, but you had no idea if it would be convincing enough to fool the henchman of an intelligent criminal; you had to try, if you wanted to get information early on. The smallest piece of info may help.

With your margarita in hand, you played oblivious to the figure in your path, knocking into him and hearing the glass shatter on the pavement. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry, sir!” You exclaimed, pulling an embarrassed face and getting on your knees to start cleaning up your mess. You hide your smirk as the man quickly stopped you, apologizing for being in your way. You could tell the way his eyes bulged and ran over your body that you made the right decision picking a skimpy bathing suit. Hook, line, and sinker.

“You should watch where you’re going.” The man, who introduced himself as James, said with a smirk, his tone holding no semblance of anger or irritation. “I’m sorry about your drink, maybe you’ll let me buy you another one?” Wow, bold. It made you feel like bile was going to come up your throat any moment, but you plastered on your best fake smile.

“I’d love that. You’re so sweet.” You giggled, “subtly” running your hand down his arm, his eyes piquing with interest.

“I’ve been told that before, yes.” He gently guided you over to the bar, lifting his arm so that it slightly touched your upper back, his jacket lifting just enough for you to be able to see the pistol sticking out of his pants.

.38. Damn.

Your little acting display got you this far, you supposed you might as well take it up a notch. This man didn’t know how many drinks you’ve already had. Maybe that ruined margarita was your fourth or fifth one of the day. Hell, you were on vacation. So, you decided to be a little drunk as you sipped on your new drink, graciously paid for by a dangerous criminal. “You don’t look like you’re here on vacation, no offense.” You slightly slurred. “I mean, who wears a business suit at a resort?”

James laughed, albeit a bit nervously, but answered you anyway. “I’m not here on vacation unfortunately. This is, ultimately, a bit of a business trip.”

“Meeting with some rich CEOs?”

“Something like that.”

You grinned. “Oh, a mysterious man. I like that.”

“And why are you here, hm?”

You wore a tired expression, lifting up your left hand to show off the fake wedding ring on your finger. “Honeymoon.”

“You don’t seem to be happy about that.”

You shrugged, taking more sips of your drink, the low levels of alcohol being barely enough to give you that liquid courage you could’ve probably used. “He’s a drag. Boring.”

“Let me guess…he has money.” You gave him a knowing smile.

“Don’t judge. A woman has needs.”

“Oh, I’m sure she does.” He inched closer to you. “But I’m sure he doesn’t satisfy all your needs.” The urge to throw up came back. The idea of being with someone other than Tom made you ill. But you had a job to do, no matter what it takes.

You took every opportunity you could to snoop around that man’s room. He must’ve been one of the dumb ones, you could spot his gun briefcase peeking out from underneath his bed. A rookie hiding spot. You got lucky, really lucky. So lucky that he fell asleep pretty quickly after the fact. Prime snooping time.

Every second that passed, the hammering in your heart grew faster. You rummaged through desk drawers, bags, cabinets, closets; the only thing you found as evidence was a post it note briefly detailing the time and place the meeting with the crime boss would take place. How amazing just a simple little note could have so much power.

You let yourself smile as you quietly escaped the James’ hotel room, making your way to the elevator and pushing the button to your floor. You could finally take a sigh of relief, the nerves slowly but surely exiting your body; that is, until the elevator doors opened to reveal Tom standing there waiting for you, his body leaned up against the wall opposite of the elevator.

“Had fun?” He snarled with contempt, his lips curled into a malicious sneer, his eyes dark. You rolled your eyes, way too exhausted to deal with his hot and cold nature. You walked out of the lift and tried to walk past him, but he quickly grabbed your upper arm tightly, forcing you to him. “Are you forgetting that we’re supposed to be a couple on their honeymoon?” Tom seethed, loosening his grip on you when he saw the slightly pained look on your face.

“No. I just saw an opportunity to get some intel, which we need if you’ve forgotten.” You snapped back, tugging back to get completely out of his grip.

“You could’ve done that without fucking the enemy. Jesus, I can smell it on you.” He frowned in disgust.

“It wasn’t even good, if it makes you feel any better. You jealous, Bennett?”

Tom surprised you when he said nothing. No reply, no witty comeback. His frown only deepened as he walked back to your hotel room, not looking back to see if you followed or not. You were almost afraid to, as if you hadn’t just risked your life mere minutes ago. You had nowhere else to go, so you followed, silently watching as he slid the key in and unlocking the door. You both still said nothing as you walked further into the room, taking off your shoes and sitting down on a chair adjacent to the bed.

“I found out where the meeting is going to be, and when.” You spoke up timidly, gaining Tom’s attention, his gaze on you heating up your face.

“You found that out back there?”

“Yep, so you can’t tell me it didn’t pay off.”

He nodded curtly. “Right. Well, I’ll contact our handler and we’ll pass on that information.”

It wasn’t like Tom to be so…compliant. He always had something to say, even when the situation didn’t call for it. You figured he just loved the sound of his own voice for a while. But now he was quiet, stoic, he barely even pitched in when you were talking to the handler about what you found. Was he really that upset that you got info before he did? How petty of him, at least that didn’t change.

“It was a .38, by the way.”

Tom furrowed his brows. “What?”

“That man’s gun. You were right.” He only let out a hum of acknowledgment. “What? You’re not gonna brag like you normally do when you win a bet?”

He shrugged. “We have a long weekend ahead of us. I’m not gonna waste my energy on stupid bets.” He snapped, walking out to the balcony to smoke a cigarette. You huffed in irritation, flopping down against the bed, watching the slow whirl of the ceiling fan.

Tom still was out smoking as you were getting ready for bed, showering and changing into your pajamas with a frown on your face. You quickly got tired of the silent treatment, joining him out on the balcony that seemed to look over the whole resort. “You chain smoke now?” You teased, earning a glare from the man. “Seriously, what’s up your ass, Bennett?” You snickered, stopping with a flinch as he turned to you suddenly.

“Do you realize how stupid that was?” Tom growled lowly, putting out his cigarette angrily and tossing it over the railing.

“You just littered.”

“Jesus Christ!” He grumbled, running his hands over his face in frustration, looking at you in exasperation. “You’re not even listening to me!” He shook you by your shoulders, making you finally start to take him seriously. “You shouldn’t have done that, Y/n.”

You scoffed, pushing him off you. “I got us valuable information. You should be happy, Bennett.”

“Well, sorry, I’m fuckin’ not.”

“Okay, well, there’s nothing I can do about that now. What’s done is done. I’m tired of you being pissed at me all the damn time for doing my job. Just keep being your indifferent self from now on, please.”

Tom growled, pushing you up against the railing of the balcony with a hand on your throat. “You weren’t supposed to be here! But of course you had to be here. Tagging along, like a tick on a fuckin’ dog. God, you’re insufferable.” He ranted, finally letting you go when you didn’t falter, but unaware how hurtful he was being with his words but you only chuckled bitterly.

“Oh, I’m aware. You’ve made that clear ever since we even started this mission. But trust me, I regret it now. If I could, I’d leave this island and never bother you again.” You huffed. “God, do you wanna outrank me so bad that you’d do this mission by yourself?”

Tom huffed. “It’s not that-! Ugh, you shouldn't be here because it’s dangerous! You could’ve died earlier! If that man wasn’t as dumb as you thought he was, he could’ve killed you! Then what would we do? What would happen to this mission, your friends and family, to me?” He snapped, taking you by surprise.

“To you?” You asked timidly, your heart pounding in your chest as Tom’s expression softened at the sight of your unshed tears.

“You think I’m indifferent? That I don’t care about you? I care about you so much it hurts! That’s why I’m livid you came here. If you die on this stupid mission, a part of me will die too. I…it wouldn’t be a life worth living without you in it. I fuckin’ love you, Y/n. Don’t you get that?” He spoke angrily, a deep contrast to the softness of his words.

Your breath caught in your throat, your mouth gaping open but no words seemed to come out, not until Tom looked down dejectedly. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, Tom. It was supposed to be just sex, that’s all.” Your voice betrayed you, wavering and on the verge of spilt tears.

Tom sighed shakily, taking out another cigarette and resting his arms on the railing. “I know…I’m sorry. I should’ve called us off as soon as I started catching feelings.”

You bit your lip, hesitantly taking a step closer to him, mirroring his stance and taking his cigarette from his fingers, bringing it to your own lips. You had stopped smoking a long time ago, but you felt you could have just this one, considering the circumstances. You coughed as the smoke filled your lungs, flinching when Tom gently patted your back, causing him to frown. You sighed, looking at him in pity. “Well…what happens now?”

“I know you hate me, so I understand if…if you wanna call us off.” Tom sulked, taking his cigarette back from you.

You shook your head, looking back over the railing, seeing the moon disappear behind the clouds that drifted by. “I don’t hate you, Tom. I never have.”

He chuckled. “Coulda fooled me.”

“I was an idiot and caught feelings for you too.” You confessed sullenly, hating the way your heart beat against your ribcage and the fire that was lit beneath the skin of your cheeks. You absolutely refused to look back at Tom, whose eyes you felt on you intensely. You couldn’t look into his eyes, you knew you’d break with just one glance, so you kept your gaze fixed on your fiddling hands.

You closed your eyes when Tom placed his hands on top of yours, squeezing them gently to encourage you to look at him. “Y/n…” But you couldn’t. You never opened your eyes, even when you felt his body up against yours, his constant warmth enveloping you and making your body relax despite yourself. His arms wrapping around your waist, his head dipping and his chin resting on your shoulder. “You don’t have to be scared, not with me.” You finally opened your eyes when he lifted your chin, your eyes instantly meeting his and you felt yourself melt against him. “I’m sorry I didn’t stop seeing you, but I couldn’t help it. I care about you too much to leave you alone.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” You replied softly, causing Tom to look at you with those big blue puppy dog eyes that never failed to make your heart melt, even when they were filled with fury or irritation directed at you, even when you were often the cause.

Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t stop Tom from surging forward to capture your lips in a kiss. This one felt different than all the others. You didn’t kiss often, only spur of the moment and they were always rage and lust filled. But not this one. This one was soft and slow, Tom’s lips moving against yours languidly, making sure to take his time. You felt your knees threatened to buckle as his tongue moved against yours, and brought his hands up to cup your jaw lovingly. You weren’t the biggest fan of fairy tales, but this felt like a fairytale kiss you always imagined one to be.

It didn’t take long for Tom to push you back into the hotel room, holding onto your waist until the back of your legs touched the bed. He gently sat you down at the edge, removing his shirt before helping you remove your clothing. You watched with heavy lidded eyes as he got on his knees, running his large hands up and down your upper thighs until you could feel your arousal pooling in your underwear. “Tom…” You whispered as he placed feather light kisses down the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs.

“Shh.” He spoke before continuing down the path of your legs until he reached your ankles, looking up at you with a crooked smile before pulling your underwear off your body, biting his lip when he saw the state he was able to put your pussy in. “Always so ready and willing for me, huh?” He teased, running the tips of his fingers up and down your slit, causing you to whine quietly. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare try to be quiet. We’re not on that plane anymore. I want you to be loud for me.” He pinched your clit to elicit a cry from you, which made him hum in approval.

“Fuck.” You whimpered as he lapped at your clit, one of his hands holding your leg up and the other using a finger to gently tease your entrance. You moaned and tilted your head back as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, pushing two fingers completely inside of you. You were already so embarrassingly close as you rutted against his face, the way his tongue swirled around you and his fingers curling against just the right spot making your head dizzy. A gasp got caught in your throat as Tom suddenly pulled away and slapped your pussy, the sound echoing loudly around the room.

“You don’t get to come, not yet.” He growled before diving back in, making you keen loudly. The pleasure was so intense you had no idea how you could obey his command. You curled your fingers through his hair tightly, trying to ground yourself and also trying so hard not to lose yourself and come accidentally. “Fuck, your cunt is squeezing my fingers so hard. You’re so close, aren’t you, love?”

“I’m right there.” You sobbed, tears streaming down your face as Tom fucked you hard with his fingers, the borderline pornagraphic sounds coming from your cunt making heat rise to your cheeks. But you were too out of it to care. “Please, Tom, please…”

“I bet that man a couple floors down couldn’t make you feel this way, hm? Was he even able to make you come?” He snarled, his fingers curling against you more aggressively.

“No…” You stuttered with a strangled moan. “It took him—fuck! Took him six thrusts to come.” You chuckled tremulously, unable to stop your moans even if you tried.

“You counted?” He grinned.

“It was hard not to.” You cried out as another pang of intense pleasure coursed through you. You were so fucking close it was painful not being allowed to, Tom completely neglecting your clit even though it felt just as good when he was fingering you. It was too much and not enough. You needed him. You needed his cock. You needed to come. “Please…” You whined loudly, obnoxiously so.

“You want me to fuck you, baby?” You nodded frantically. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to. Tell me, who’s the only one allowed to fuck you from now on? Who’s the only one who gets to taste this sweet cunt of yours?”

“You, Tom.” You howled, his words only adding to your pleasure to your surprise. “Oh fuck, I’m yours, only yours, Tom. I don’t want anyone else but you.”

“Good girl.” Tom growled as he grabbed you by the throat and pulled you into a passionate kiss, using the leverage from his fingers knuckle deep in your cunt and the grip on your neck to force you back towards the headboard on the bed, only pulling away from you to shed off his trousers and underwear. He was so rock hard the tip of his cock had turned into a lovely shade of pink, the sight making you drool as it came closer to your entrance as Tom crawled on top of you, resuming that passionate kiss. He pushed into you with no warning, splitting you open and causing you to gasp against his mouth, allowing him to bite your bottom lip before pulling away.

The pace he set was different too, just like that previous kiss on the balcony. It was slow, purposeful, and calculated; the thrusts were so powerful and deep that it made the top of your head hit the headboard and your tits bounce violently. His cock stretched your walls so perfectly as it always had, his thickness never the easiest to adjust to, but the slight sting of him made the pleasure all the more intense. You were still so close, but now with no stimulation to your clit, it was easier to hold back.

“You’re so beautiful.” Tom murmured, his eyebrows furrowed tightly in concentration. Even with him being balls deep inside of you, his intense gaze made you feel even more naked than you already were. He never used to look at you this way before, but it was a nice change. He didn’t even try to hold himself back as he picked up the pace, holding you in his arms and rocking you with his sped up thrusts.

“Oh, fuck, yes!” You cried, your moans becoming more breathless and high pitched. “I wanna come so bad.”

“Not yet, love. I want us to come together.” Tom lifted himself up on his knees, grabbing onto the fat of your hips roughly to have the purchase to pound into you relentlessly. He hit the ends of you over and over again, your stomach starting to ache deeply and the knot inside you was tightening more and more, one right move threatening to make it snap. “Fuck.” Tom moaned, his cock twitching inside of you, his body tensing as he got nearer to that edge.

“I want you to come inside me, Tom.” You whimpered, placing your hands on top of his, digging your nails into his skin as your grip tightened.

Tom reached down to rub your clit, the action practically making you scream. You moaned his name over and over again along with taking gasping breaths, your pleasure melting your brain and turning you into a babbling mess. “Yeah, yeah, that’s it, love. Come with me. Please, come with me. Come all over my cock.” You didn’t need any more encouragement for that band inside you to pull taunt until it snapped hard, that wave of ecstasy knocking the breath out of you and making your vision hazy. But not hazy enough to see Tom hit that climax along with you, each of you letting out strained moans as you released together, you soaking his cock and his cum painting your velvety walls. He stilled inside you as you rode out your highs, slumping over and placing delicate kisses all over your neck and collarbone. “Fuck…” He breathed out with a chuckle, pulling out and laying beside you.

“Fuck…” You agreed, trying to catch your breath.

Tom started to reach over to pull you against him, but hesitated when you flinched. It wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t cuddled after sex, but it was mostly after a particularly rough session as a part of aftercare. You rarely cuddled after a gentle night like this one, especially not after confessing feelings for one another. But your skin already thrummed for attention, for his skin to be on yours even after having sex. It was scary, to open yourself up to heartbreak. But looking at Tom’s painfully hopeful gaze, you suddenly realized you wouldn’t mind getting your heart broken by him.

You reached out to him with a shy smile, allowing him to pull you closer and rest your head on his chest, hearing the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. He didn’t hide the large grin his mouth broke out into; it was way too endearing. But now, you supposed you’d be seeing those more often.

“We need to discuss our strategy for this meeting.” Tom spoke, breaking the comfortable silence.

You chuckled lightly, looking up at him. “Now?”

“At some point.”

“How does tomorrow morning sound?”

Tom smiled, leaning down to kiss you sweetly. “Sounds perfect.”

The next morning, you woke up in Tom’s embrace. You may have cuddled before, but you had never actually slept together like this all throughout the night, on purpose. You were surprised you had woken up first, considering how much you hated early mornings. Tom was always the early bird, but you had the chance to watch him while he was still asleep. You didn’t think it would affect you that much, but goddamn he was adorable when he slept. The permanent curve of his lips made it seem like he was smiling in his sleep and he looked…soft. Very soft. You always envied his perfect smooth skin, but this was ridiculous. No matter how hard you tried in the past, you could never find a single flaw on his body. It irked you, but you couldn’t stop staring at him, even when he started to stir awake.

His lips upturned in a sly smirk, already smug after a second of consciousness. “Like what you see?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to wiggle out of his grip but he was stronger and kept you in place. “We have a busy day, we can’t lie in bed all morning.” You lightly scolded, pride filling you as you felt his grip loosen, allowing you to rise from the bed. “We should stake out the room where the meeting’s gonna take place.” You spoke, cleaning up and getting dressed, while Tom just watched you as he cuddled a pillow. “Like what you see?” You mocked, smiling when he sneered.

After getting ready for the day, you and Tom followed the instructions that were hastily written on the post it note. The hotel was rather large, but you found the room somewhat easily. It was a conference room on the first floor, occupied with a long table with too many chairs to count. It was empty, or at least it seemed to be. Nor you or Tom saw anyone hanging out anywhere near the room. No guards or people preparing for this possible meeting, but you figured it was normal since the meeting wasn’t taking place that particular day.

“Alright,” Tom voiced, “you keep watch while I set up the bugs. Just signal if you see anyone coming, and don’t hesitate to get the fuck out if anything happens.”

You scoffed. “Like I’m gonna leave you to fend for yourself.” Tom’s gaze softened, causing your face to flush with heat. “Cause you definitely wouldn’t survive without me. You don’t have social skills to get yourself out of trouble.”

Tom rolled his eyes, but you could see a ghost of a smirk on his lips. “Right.”

You leaned against the wall opposite of the double doors to the conference room, keeping a sharp eye out from anyone who might’ve been walking your way. You hoped Tom could set up the bugs in time and get out before anyone notices. But it seems the luck you had last night in getting the information ran out as the same man you used started to come walking down the hall. You quickly pressed on your small hidden walkie, hearing the buzz in your ear piece. “Henchman, incoming. I’ll distract him.” You whispered into the mic.

“No, get out of there. Do not engage, you hear me?” You ignored Tom’s frantic orders as you plastered a fake smile on your face, greeting James warmly.

“Well, hi there, stranger.” You teased flirtatiously.

James’ eyes flashed with shock and confusion at first, looking around curiously. “Hi? What’re you doing here?” He asked in suspicion, making your heart hammer in your ribcage.

You sighed dramatically. “The husband isn’t too happy with my disappearance last night. Came here to get a break from his constant glares.”

His face flushed red, smiling nervously as if he just remembered what had taken place the night before. “Oh, right. You didn’t tell him, did you?”

You scoffed. “Of course not. I may be a stunner but I’m not dumb either.”

“I never implied you were.”

You giggled. “I did have fun last night though.” You lied, swallowing the bile that threatened to come up your throat.

He nodded. “Me too. Do you…think we can do it again?”

You smiled sadly. “I’m afraid not. Our vacation is almost over and I don’t want my husband getting too suspicious.” Just then, you faintly hear the creaking of a door opening. From behind the henchman, you spotted Tom’s concerned face. But before James in front of you could react to the noise, you pulled him to you. “But…how about a goodbye kiss? For the memories?” You grinned, capturing your lips with his, a surprised noise coming from his mouth. You opened your eyes and gestured for Tom to get out of there. He gave you one last angry reluctant look before obeying you, running off as silently as possible.

James pulled away with a breathless chuckle. “Man, I will miss these pretty lips of yours.” He wiped his thumb over your bottom lip, making you shiver uncomfortably, but he took it as a good thing. “I hope you’ll be thinking of me whenever you’re fucking your boring husband.”

Not likely, creep. “It’ll be hard not to. Well, enjoy the rest of your vacation.” You blew him a kiss before walking away, trying to calm your heart from beating out of your chest. That was the worst. You wanted to wash your mouth out with soap.

Right around the corner, Tom pulled you to him, making you almost let out a yelp of surprise. “Are you alright?” He grabbed your face gently, looking you over with an adorable concern.

You smiled. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. Told you I could get out of trouble better than you could.”

Tom’s eyes darkened. “Well, I’m sure it’s easier when you have these.” You gasped as Tom groped your breasts from over your shirt, making you lightly slap him, but he only giggled mischievously.

“So, did you plant all the bugs?”

“Yep, thanks to you. You gave me more time. I owe you one.”

“You sure do. I’ve had my fair share of that douchebag.” You cringed with a groan, the taste of that man’s mouth still sticking to your lips unbearably.

“Me too.”

You furrowed your brows. “What do you mean you too? You didn’t have to sleep with him.”

Tom frowned. “Yes. But I gotta tell ya, I was mad jealous. I felt like I was gonna punch a wall or something. I almost pulled him off you back there to do exactly that: punch the bastard.”

“Then our cover would’ve been blown.”

He shrugged. “Not if I played the husband role, angry that my wife was with another man. Which…isn’t that far off, if I’m being honest.”

You chuckled. “Well, when this mission is over and we’re back home, you have my permission to punch any guy that tries to hit on me.”

Tom stopped in his tracks, just steps away from your shared hotel room. “Wait…” He suddenly blushed bright red. “Does that mean…I’m your boyfriend?”

You couldn’t stop your own blush painting your face, looking down and smiling bashfully. “I mean, yeah. If you want to be?” Tom grinned widely, suddenly picking you up and spinning you around, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Your giggles bounced around the echoey hallway as he placed quick pecks all over your face and neck, tickling you until you gently pushed him off. “Happy, are you?” You laughed in amusement.

“You have no idea.” You may have had an idea…

For the rest of the day and every day after leading up to the actual meeting, all you and Tom did was listen in through the planted bugs. It was surprisingly super boring. Anything heard was very few and far between. Nothing of substance was ever said. All the noises that came from the bugs was the shuffling and creaking of people moving around and moving around furniture you assumed.

Your handler informed you and Tom that a team was being sent in, and your job was to make sure to tell that team when the meeting was well under way and to make sure every person of importance was there so they could be arrested. It didn’t sound like a difficult process, but you made sure to prepare for anything.

The day of, you were loading and prepping your weapons while Tom was listening to the live audio feed, his face in deep concentration. He looked cute and you wanted to say so, but you figured it would’ve been inappropriate at a time like this. An uncomfortable tension filled the air that forced your hands to shake, which couldn’t have come at a worse time. You tried taking deep breaths, but it didn’t work. You hid it as best you could. You and Tom already had gotten into an argument about who was going to be the one to direct the rest of the team where the meeting room was. He did not want you down there, at all. But your stubbornness got the better of you and you didn’t let him win. You’d be fine, you were sure of it. You were going to have to head down to the first floor of the hotel soon, staying with the team until Tom radioed that the meeting was almost over.

“Don’t try to be a hero.” Tom told you. “Self preservation before anything else, got it?”

You promised him, if only to ease his nerves. You weren’t going to make any dumb decisions, that wasn’t like you. But you couldn’t promise you wouldn’t get hurt even if you made the smartest choices, the job couldn’t guarantee it, you knew that. But you’d rather get hurt than Tom, that much you were sure of.

The shake of your hands stopped as you loaded your gun’s magazine, just as Tom turned his head to you and nodded. “Be safe.” He spoke, his brows furrowed in worry.

You gave him a reassuring smile. “I will. I’ll see you soon.”

“You better.”

You shook off your nerves and exited the hotel room without another word or glance back at Tom, leaving him and praying you’d see him again, maybe take him on a proper date after all this nonsense was over.

You met up with the team, and they gave you your own bulletproof vest in case things went sideways. You briefed them on where this meeting was and how to get there, pointing to the place on the map of the hotel layout. And after almost an hour of standing around and waiting for shit to hit the fan, your walkie finally sounded off and Tom’s voice spoke over the radio. “They’re starting to trade.”

That was the cue.

You and the team went out, speeding down the halls to the conference room. You could feel your heartbeat in your pulse as the doors were kicked open, threatening yells and weapons being pointed, but the crime boss ordered his henchman’s weapons be pointed back at them. That’s when shit finally hit the fan.

You ducked as bullets went flying across the room, at everyone on either side, the shots echoing loudly and making your eardrums ring. You didn’t let it bother you as you were preoccupied with finding cover, getting your own weapon out and finding a target. You never thought your life would come to this, taking another human being’s life. But it was either you or them. It was at this moment you wondered if you ever should’ve joined this field in the first place. A bullet flying way too close to you snapped you out of those thoughts, forcing you to shoot back. You locked eyes with a familiar face, one you hoped you’d never see again. But of course it was him, James. You watched as the man’s face furrowed in anger, clearly fooled and feeling stupid himself. He should’ve known something was off about you, but too little too late.

The shooting suddenly stopped as the crime boss yelled out in surrender, holding his hands up above the table he was hiding behind, telling his men to stop their own firing. Your team shouted at everyone to put their weapons down and put their hands up, and they all complied fearfully. Your team came out from their cover as the dust seemed to clear, moving to finally apprehend these people. You watched, trying to calm your heartbeat as you felt relief wash over you. You did it, you and Tom. You almost couldn’t believe it.

Just as you realized everything was going to be okay, three shots rang out.

Before you could comprehend what had happened, you were on the floor. Pain surged through your entire body, making it difficult to find the source of the pain. You groaned as a team member ran to you, getting on their knees and quickly putting pressure on what you figured was a bullet wound. You struggled to lift your head to figure out what exactly happened, and you managed to see James on the floor dead, bleeding a puddle of blood beneath him. Karma’s a bitch, you thought. You didn’t think fucking him for information would come back to bite you in the ass, but here you were, bullet not in your ass, but your shoulder. The two other shots thankfully hit your vest, but it still hurt like hell. The bruises you felt instantly forming from those other two shots made you wince, more pressure being added from your comrade making you cry out.

“Shh, don’t move.” The person above you spoke. “Medic!”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” You grunted.

From another room, you could hear angry shouts, immediately recognizing the voice as Tom’s. Man, he was going to be pissed at you. But you found it hard to care as you felt blood leaving your body in copious amounts, even with the multiple hands putting pressure on it and miles long amount of gaze being stuffed onto your shoulder. “We need to get her to a hospital now.” The medic spoke urgently. You felt like a loser as your vision started to dim, trying your best to keep yourself awake. But it was out of your control.

Everything after that was a blur. You could hear the sound of sirens, lights flashed above your fluttering eyelids, the smell of cleaning supplies and chemicals making its way into your nostrils, the feeling of a warm hand holding yours. You couldn’t make any sense of it, not until you finally regained full consciousness laying in a hospital bed.

Your eyes squinted as you tried to adjust to the light, even if they were dimmed for your sake. You moaned as you tried to sit up, but you were quickly held in place gently. “No, no, don’t try to move.” The anxious tension in your body alleviated slightly as your eyes landed on Tom’s face, a weak smile coming to your lips. “The doctors said you can’t move yet.”

You inhaled deeply, despite the awful smelling chemicals of the ER. Your mouth was horrifically dry, your lips chapped and tongue like sandpaper in your mouth. “Water.” You choked out, cringing at the hoarseness of your voice. Tom helped you take a few sips of water, which made you feel so much better but also embarrassed that you couldn't even help yourself at that moment. “What happened?”

Tom’s lips upturned in a wry, amused smile. “You were shot.”

You scoffed, chuckling lightly even though it hurt. “I know that. I mean, what happened after I blacked out. I don’t remember, obviously.”

Tom lost his weak smile, grabbing and holding your hand. “Doctor said the bullet hit your brachial plexus. You had to go into surgery to repair it.”

“Well shit, that doesn’t sound good. I’d be more upset if I knew exactly what a brachial plexus is.” You joked, which earned a reluctant chuckle from Tom.

“It’s nerves that allow your arm to move, basically.”

“Oh…” You frowned. “That is bad.”

“...yeah.”

“Well? Did the doctors fix it?”

Tom’s eyes briefly lightened up and he nodded slightly. “They did. They got you to the hospital fast, thankfully. But it looks like you’re gonna be out of commission for several months while you recover, lots of physical therapy and bedrest.”

You groaned. “Ugh, not bedrest.” Tom sighed in exasperation, putting his head in his hands. “Tom?” You tried to reach out for him as you started to hear soft sniffles, coming out muffled from behind his hands, but it sent a spark up pain through your body. “Tom, come on, look at me.”

Tom’s eyes were a bright blue from the tears that were flowing down his face. He looked exhausted, both physically and emotionally. “You lied to me. You told me you were gonna be safe.” He exhaled a shuddering breath.

“I was…until that asshole decided to get revenge on me.” You slightly chuckled, but Tom’s frown only deepened. “I’m sorry. I never wanted you to worry. It’s just…this is part of the job. There was always a chance I’d get hurt, any of us.”

“That’s exactly why I wanted to be down there and not you.”

You shook your head, well, tried to. “No. I’d have rather died than put your life in danger.”

Tom scoffed angrily. “Why? Why do that?”

“Because if you died…a part of me would’ve died too.” Your voice wavered, unwanted tears spilling over and falling down your cheeks. “I love you too, Tom.” You looked away from his intense and unwaveringly loving gaze, too overwhelming to handle. You sniffled. “I’m sorry if that’s selfish of me. But I simply care about your life more than mine…I’ve never felt this way before, about anyone. It’s terrifying.”

You looked back at him as he took your hand with his, running his thumb over your slightly bruised knuckles. “I guess I’m selfish too, because I feel the same way. Which is why I’m fuckin’ pissed at you.” He spoke, but his tone held no semblance of anger and his gaze was just as loving as before.

You couldn’t help but smile. “You can’t be mad when I’m injured.” You teased, causing him to roll his eyes and look down to hide a grin of his own. “Can’t complain when you’re taking care of me either. You have to listen to my every demand.” You giggled.

“Are you asking me to move in with you?” He raised a brow, making you blush furiously.

“Uh, I, um, only if you, uh-”

Tom interrupted you with a laugh, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles. “Of course. Besides, you couldn’t keep me away even if you tried.”

“That’s good to know.” Then you realized, “Hold on, wait. How’d you even get in here? Isn’t visiting for family only?”

Tom smirked as he held up his left hand, the fake wedding ring still on his finger. “Can’t keep a husband away from his wife, can they?”

uh...kinda overdid it, didn't I? oh well haha

#world on fire #world on fire bbc #tom bennett #tom bennett imagine #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett x fem!reader #tom bennett x f!reader #tom bennett smut #modern!tom bennett #special agent!tom bennett

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faillen · 2 months ago

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just. peaceful property rambles. completely unconstructive, trying to make my brain quiet so I can sleep.

I can’t stop thinking about Peach turning around and expecting Home at his elbow, or inhaling to call his name, only to stop once he remembers.

I’m assuming. What? A week went by between last ep and this ep?

Also just thinking about Pangpang sooo much like. She saw how Home got her brother out of his shell and she’s very much encouraging Peach to reach out because she’s trying to be constructive and positive about the whole situation. But at the same time I really just want to write the post-canon fic where she starts pulling away from Home a bit and eventually she blurts out that she’s mad at him. Cause it’s a simmering thing, and she’s always set her anger aside to make space for being “the positive supportive one!” since Peach takes on so much responsibility and burden as the older brother. But at the end of the day, Home did hit her only brother with a fucking car, and when she thinks about how scared she was that night and how much their life spiraled—even though it was all okay in the end—she does still get incredibly upset.

Also Kan!!! Kan got barely any screen time this episode, and I really need the focus to swing back to her. I don’t know if it will next episode, given the preview, but I need to learn more about what’s going on there. Clearly the fact that she asked to leave right after Home is supposed to make us a bit sus of her but Home’s aunt and uncle and that lawyer are truly pinging so much higher for me lmao.

Also I swear to god, I will bet on it—Uncle Somkid is partly responsible for Home’s parents dying (and it feels like that might be tied up w Kan’s story?). If I’m wrong, fine, but if I’m right, I will eat my shoe.

There’s something about how positively Home views his grandfather versus the neglect and pain caused by his family’s holdings. And on one hand. Rich people bullshit. They love making excuses for negligence! On the other hand, if the show doesn’t want to make the grandfather a villain (and it seems like it doesn’t want to) then someone else has to be (the lawyer? Somkid doesn’t seem that master-mind-y. Though who knows. One of the theories for this week is that he put a hit on his fucking nephew lmao)

I will say. There is something very “Pat gets shot and Wai redeems himself by helping him” about Home getting into a car accident before he apologizes to Peach and Pangpang in person. While I am completely devastated by the trials and tribulations of this very hot, classist man who is actually quite Complicated™—the impact of the apology we get is going to be severely undercut by Peach’s guilt over why Home was driving in the first place. Like the Bad Buddy situation it’s similar vibes of “are you really going to be mad at your friend for outing you when he just helped your boyfriend after your boyfriend got SHOT?”

(The answer to both is: yes, yes you should. these are separate issues. the human emotions of guilt/gratefulness will not let you do that though.)

god. also. just. gay love can pierce through the veil of death and save the day. Hey. Hey P’Dome, did you watch The CW’s long-running monster of the week, Supernatural (2005)? Cause I think it’s insane that you had the ForceBook ghosts be gay in an episode where you ALSO establish that suicidal ghosts loop through their final moments. You know. Kind of like a Death Echo. An entity/phenomenon which was first introduced in Supernatural season 3, episode 13, “Ghostfacers”. And they got the death echo who happened to be gay to move on by having his crush confess to him. and they uttered the aforementioned famous line. Yknow. Like.

P’DOME DID YOU WATCH SUPERNATURAL, YOU GOTTA TELL ME RIGHT NOW

if I had a nickel for every time a queercoded horror show did this shebang, I’d have two nickels, etc. etc.

I can’t even think about the whole dancing scene and Home and Peach looking at each other while doing the gestures for love. If I do, I will simply explode. I also cannot think about how hurt Home looked when Peach mentioned him running away to the States (me, always: home looks so pathetic ;-; also me: stop. stop that. he basically killed peach, peach is allowed to be mean.)

Okay I’m done.

#hey silver if you read this drop me a line on the spn bit tomorrow?#I’m losing my mind #peaceful property

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tododeku-or-bust · 2 years ago

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Why do you think Achilles should simp for Patroclus more often in fics???????????

(if you get the gif reference then you know that I ain't bout to Miss)

I wrote y'all a fucking ESSAY because I love this topic so much!

Before I start, I gotta make my requisite disclaimer: I am not one of those uppity people who thinks they're too good to enjoy The Song of Achilles for what it is! I think it is beautifully written, a joy to read, one of my favorite books that inspired my love for my #1 of all time ship!

The Tl,Dr: I just wonder if a lot of people who read TSoA have not read The Iliad, and because of that lack of context tend to have what I feel is a very nonchalant (to use a word), almost underestimation for Achilles' love for Patroclus and how it affects him. I began to want more variation, more of an uplifting of Patroclus both as an individual and love interest.

Here's a link to Extra Credit's summary of The Iliad, bc I find it charming, in case you're curious!

I've read a lot of Patrochilles fics, left kudos and comments bc I'm a good noodle, and enjoyed very many! I encourage everyone who writes them! But I noticed after a while that there was a specific taste I was looking for that I wasn't finding as much (outside of my own particular Pat HCs, which is why I started writing my own shit lmao, the combination of canons explained HERE). The longer I thought about it, the more I realized what it was:

The stories almost always approached the narrative and romance from that near worshipful gaze of Patroclus onto Achilles from TSoA. And I really love that for TSoA, because it makes sense, right? The one guy that actually loved Achilles should be the one to see him in his glory, to tell a softer tale of his love.

But the thing I think we need to remember is... The Iliad is the story that we have been telling for almost three millennia. ALMOST THREE MILLENNIA of a man's love etched in history, and it wasn't Patroclus' love.

The Iliad is the story of Achilles' wrath, of his hubris, of his heartbreak so palpable from the loss of his beloved that he was willing to commit war crimes (on top of the war crimes he was already committing), that was so strong it scared Olympus. The Iliad exposes the messy ass man that was Achilles and his decision making. I suppose Madeline didn't have time to get into all the details (which thank god bc The Iliad is LONG) but her version of what happened to Pat, and Achilles' resulting anger, is very streamlined for pacing and romance's sake.

(The man went Super Saiyan for fucks sake, this is what he looked like out there, armorless, glowing, screaming to the heavens and depths)

(The Trojans fucking retreated, accidentally killing some of their own, in fear upon seeing him!! Book 18, lines 202-238, LOOK IT UP ITS FUCKING AWESOME)

And The Iliad... LOVES Patroclus. It almost make you wonder if Homer had a crush on him himself lmao. Achilles is always fondly speaking to and of Patroclus. There's always some form of "my beloved companion, my dearest companion, my favored above all". In the midst of letting thousands of men die (to the joy of endless Hannigram fans), he told Patroclus that it would be them who would take Troy (which I will never get over, because it says a lot about both his mental state and his devotion lmao bc SIR! There are people dying!)

I just found it odd that out of so many TSoA fics, very few seemed willing to have a focus on Achilles as the truly messy one out of the pair when it came to romance. And by messy, I mean, struggling to be the one to deserve Patroclus' love. Risking looking goofy while trying to get his attention, genuinely being nervous about Patroclus' approval and love. Struggling to be the one to prove himself worthy, to hold himself together because his image and his pride clearly mean a lot but just maybe they don't mean more than his man... that sort of thing. Bc to me, from both stories, Patroclus is the catch! He's the one that everyone loved and would want to be with, if not when he was young, certainly by the time he was grown!

And I get it- it's bc we want happy endings, bc TSoA hurt folks! So we don't want Achilles to be a butthead bc that's what caused half the problem! But...sometimes I feel like Patroclus is rarely given his opportunity to shine as an equivalent in fic (that's the reason I started Fame, way back when; because I wanted to see Patroclus literally stand on the same stage as Achilles, to have his own star power shine, for Achilles to realize that he's been slowly rising and now stands next to him and not in his shadow).

I just think it's a disservice to Patroclus, as well as to Achilles' DEEP devotion and adoration of this man so powerful we still talking about the shit, to act as though Achilles would always be so suave and unruffled about bagging him. To act as though Patroclus should always be the one in search of Achilles' attention without that same energy emphasized in reverse.

And it's not me saying that those stories are wrong or bad or anything! I just... I don't know, I wanted to see more of the opposite. I wanted to see Achilles be the one fumbling too, for him to realize that he's got a King in Patroclus, and that he should have his shit together to keep him. It happened in TSoA; he was quite unnerved that Briseis tried it, Patroclus just quickly handled it lmao. If we take both stories, TSoA is how Patroclus sees himself, and The Iliad is how everyone else sees him, and if those narratives are so different, why can't Achilles be the same? Why can't his inner monologue (in canon, fics, etc.) be a hot mess, but outwardly people aren't seeing it?

It's also why I really liked the growth of Achilles in Hades; it was nice to see him shameful, anxious, vulnerable and trying to hide it, to see him try to contain the mess and try to do right by his soulmate (and still fumble it lmao, i love that man). I liked that it showed that the things that happened to them had an effect and it was painful for both of them. That he adored this man while still not picking the action that would have made them both happy bc it's a character trait atp.

Damn i been talking forever. I've honestly lost my train of thought. Point is, I think that more people should take advantage of the fact that Achilles was clearly crazy in love about Patroclus. Like, lost his mind afterwards with grief type crazy... Like... 'sacrifice twelve men on a funeral pyre', 'stab holes in a man's ankles and tie his rope through it and drag his body because he killed you' type crazy. I don't think it's a far jump, especially in fanfic where we can play with these ideas in a more modern context without including the war crimes, to think that he'd be nervous, messy, and actively simp for the one man that he loved so much more than all others.

*OSP Red Voice* so.... yeah!

#ask #knicknocknick #tsoa meta #the iliad meta #the iliad #hades supergiant #patrochilles #tsoa patrochilles #hades patrochilles #achilles x patroclus #patrochilles fic

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chaos0pikachu · 10 months ago

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I liked your explanation about the opening sequence to The Sign. I will start by saying I have a background in literary analysis, not cinema, which is a whole other ballgame which is why I am writing to you. (Which is also why books and movies are not one to one translations, they can't be). Lately there has been a lot of negativity toward the confusion surrounding Phaya's and Tharn's powers, especially how Phaya and Tharn got to the cave. I was not surprised by the lack of explanation though. If this was a book I would say that the characters themselves are caught in forces they don't understand, grasping for how to fight against a literal God and so confusion in the narrative parallels that confusion in the character POV. We see a little of Docs POV but only in connection with Tharn or Phaya. Thanks for listening to my ramblings. Have a good week!

There's been a weird negativity towards The Sign since like, ep07 when they banged and idk why but I refuse to let it get me down lol The Sign is one of the few BLs that's ambitious and I gotta give it it's gold stars of the week for that alone

For me, I'm willing to see if the powers thing is just the show withholding information or if it's leaving it ambiguous on purpose. Personally I'm not the type of viewer that needs everything laid out for them in logical order. Like, I don't need to know if all the kitchenware in Beast's castle was actually a human, the castle is enchanted ergo all the shit inside is also enchanted. Why are the servants also cursed, cause it's a fairytale and they are? They're an extension of the Beast himself as a character? Sometimes adding explanations or over explaining sucks the magic and fantastical elements from a story.

Like, I'm a One Piece fan so I'm really used to information being withheld for a very long time lmao

That said I also understand the frustration because there does seem to be a set-up happening for the "who" or "why" of the golden light powers. It could be a lot of the things, I like reading the theories. If none of them happened I think I'd be a bit bummed but honestly that just opens up a ton of possibilities in fic.

I continue to be disappointed there's not more fic for The Sign since it's one of the few BL shows that really lends itself so well to a vast amount of possibilities for diverging from canon, or exploring the worldbuilding, or AUs etc etc.

Either way, The Sign is def one of the better BLs I've watched and I'll stand by that lol

#the sign the series #chaos pikachu speaks #asks

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babygirlgh0st · 1 year ago

Text

Modern Leper

Summary; Despite living with Simon Riley for several months now, the intricacies of his mind still find ways to surprise you; Tonight is nothing new for either of you. Word count; 2,245 A/N; This is the first fic I’ve actually finished and decided to post for CoD! I rarely ever post my writing, so forgive me if it isn’t the best. I just really love Ghost, and my fiance deals with night terrors and I saw an outlet and decided to run it into the ground with this. The relationship dynamic for them is something I cherish and is loosely inspired by this song. I could write a three hour power-point on all the trauma this man struggles with, but for now y’all gotta deal with my drabbling instead lmao. No beta we die like men.

I’m also open to taking requests, if you have anything to offer me :> Warnings; Vague mentions of past trauma/gore/death, night terrors, ambiguous and complex situationships, minor physical harm (unintentional), hurt/comfort.

It had taken you months to finally convince Simon to move in with you, just like it had taken nearly a year for him to admit to your not-quite relationship. It was based on understanding more than love or romance; The common knowledge that you shared the same weight as the other, that your weird quirks were complimentary despite their usually volatile state.

You both understood each other's needs, traumas, the baggage you both carried within yourselves that you’d yet to find the space to put down. He needed space and quiet, a silent companion who never seemed to judge him for whatever ailed him at any moment, and you had a supernatural ability to read him like a book and offer what you could when he needed it without a word being exchanged. It was an invaluable bond you two shared, not quite love, but not quite friendship. You just knew each other like you were one and the same, and found safety in that fact. He had grown to trust you, and you found solace with him, and you were relieved when he relented to moving into your sad one bedroom apartment. Filling some empty void that always seemed to follow you in life.

You had been having such a nice dream, something warm and soft and honey sweet for once, when the yelling started. It dredged you from the depths of sleep, like ripping off a band-aid or throwing ice water down your shirt, and you blearily shot up in bed in surprise as you blinked into the dark of your shared bedroom, seeking its source.

Simon had warned you about his night terrors, but you hadn’t fully comprehended just how bad they could get sometimes. Yelling, screaming, pained moans and thrashing like he was an animal caged, feral and in desperate need to escape himself. He’d told you that there wasn’t much to do about them, and apologized when he said to just let him be until they were over. He’d even insisted on sleeping on the couch for several months upon moving in under the concern that he’d hurt you or cost you sleep, or god forbid traumatize you even further than your shared line of work already had.

It took you a few moments to process that it was happening again, blinking the sleep out of your eyes as you watched Simon jerk in his sleep across the bed, sheets twisted around his limbs in a way that you found both angelic and heartbreaking in the moonlight from the window. You were sure there wasn’t a single way he could appear to you that you wouldn’t find beautiful, though you knew better than to voice those thoughts out loud.

He remembered everything if he was woken up in the middle of a night terror, though waking him up while in one of his fits was a feat of its own. You had relented to leave him be and fight his demons in his dreams undisturbed, until the neighbors started to complain about the noise. It killed you to see the haunted, distant look he would always get the following morning if he didn’t sleep through it, but he understood that it couldn’t continue, not in your subpar apartment. After a few too many noise complaints, things had to change.

“Simon?” You called softly, voice heavy with sleep as you shifted to face him, watching him for a few moments. You knew that pinched expression, visible even through his balaclava that his face was an image of agony. You’d never learned what he had been through- never anticipated you’d get to know- but it still made you question the poor man’s past as you watched him squirm and groan in pain in your sheets.

“Simon,” you call his name more loudly this time, shifting closer to him on the bed as you did.

You had never let go of the hope that maybe one day, you’d be able to soothe away his nightmares with just your voice. That your presence alone could banish the horrors that he hid inside of himself, the things he fought back during the day that he couldn’t run from at night. You prayed for a day when you could simply whisper sweet nothings to him, and ease his pain without having to wake him.

It had yet to work despite your insistent efforts, and after a couple more minutes of soft crooning and attempts to console him with no changes in his behavior, you relented to the one trick you and Ghost had found to wake him up; Sternum rubs.

“I’m so sorry,” you said as you always did, before shifting to get out of bed and walk around to his side of the mattress. He’d attempted to grab or punch you the few times you’d had to resort to this specific method in the past, and you couldn’t blame him for it; it was an agonizing sensation to experience, and he had always been adverse to physical contact regardless of whether or not he had just suffered a night terror. You couldn’t fault him for lashing out when you woke him from painful dreams in an equally as painful way, even if it cost you a few bruises. At least if you were standing, you had a better chance of moving out of reach when he did come to. With a sharp breath in, you lowered your knuckles down onto the solid muscle and bone of his sternum and pressed, dragging your fist across his chest.

It didn’t take long for him to let out a shuddering gasp, a choked yell of “Get the fuck off me!” following after. It left you flinching, startled by the outburst despite this situation not being a new one. His eyes flew open in shock as his hand locked tight, too tight around your wrist in a grip that brought a squeal to your lips. You knew by now it would leave bruises, the skin tight and twisted under his calloused palm as he ripped your hand off of him.

“G-ghost! It’s me, it’s me,” you chanted, fear evident in your words as you tried to not struggle against his grip. You had never been able to get used to the violence in his awakenings, the way he would shudder and heave like he’d been shot. His eyes were frantic, manic as he stared at the room around him, at himself, at you as if he had never seen you before in his life, your words foreign in his ears.

“Simon… It’s okay. You’re okay, you’re at ho-”

“Shut up.”

He panted heavily, releasing your wrist from his ironclad grip as he shifted to sit up in the bed. His eyes were squeezed tight, hands reaching to cover his face as he tried to reorient himself to the waking world. His body shuddered and rattled as if still stuck inside of his dream, somewhere else, experiencing who knows what. You stood silently beside the bed as you watched him, letting him calm down in his own time.

It felt like a century before he spoke, but his words were much softer despite the way his hands trembled against himself.

“...I’m sorry, love,” he mumbled, fingers rubbing at his eyes as he forced everything in his mind down into the trenches of himself. Hiding away from your concerned eyes as you watched him like a hawk. His scars throbbed, his skin still clinging to the feeling of blood and dirt and rot as if he had never showered since everything had happened to him.

“It’s okay, Si,” you said quietly, finally letting yourself move, breathe, as you made your way back to your side of the bed and settled back into the sheets there.

“You… Can I get you anything?” You offered, always trying to be helpful after an episode. Always supportive and gentle and quiet in his presence as he struggled to hold everything down like bile in the back of his throat, threatening to spill out. A mug of tea, an ear, a shoulder, a warm bath, it was always the same with you despite him always pushing you away every time. He usually settled for silence and nothing more, and this time didn’t seem any different.

Simon finally pulled his hands from his face, blue eyes exhausted as he stared down at your red wrist with a look of heartbreaking guilt. You knew he was staring; he always did when he’d hurt you after this happened, guilty and pained as he struggled to chew and swallow the reality of once again doing the one thing he always told himself he wouldn’t.

“I’ll get you some ice,” he offered, no room for argument in his words as he shifted out of bed with a groan and disappeared from the bedroom. Your hand cradled your inflamed wrist, and as you looked down at it you could already see the angry, finger-shaped signs of a bruise forming under your skin.

He’d always shown his care through action, insisting he was bad with words and worse with touch, so he settled on the little things to try and bring his affections across to you. Grabbing things that were too high for you to reach, doing the extra steps to make whatever task you had at hand that much easier, bringing you small souvenirs when he went on an assignment that you couldn’t follow him on.

He returns with a deep rooted sadness in his eyes, silently asking for your injured hand as he goes to wrap a bag of frozen peas around it like you were made of glass; something so fragile, so delicate. It felt wrong to feel you in his hands, no matter how careful he swore to be with you, the feeling of staining or breaking you never leaving the back of his mind as he iced the wound he’d caused.

“Really, it’s okay,” you reassured him a second time, offering him a gentle smile as you let him ice your wrist for you. It felt like he was licking a wound like a dog, trying to erase the accidental damage he caused like he always tried with himself. He only offers you a curt nod at your words, and once he’s decided your wrist is sufficiently encased in the frozen peas does he let you go and return to his spot in the bed.

“It was the coffin, this time,” he says in a low voice, rough from yelling and the cigarettes he tended to chain-smoke every second he was off base and out of your shared home.

You turn to stare at him in surprise, not expecting him to be open about what happened as your mind reeled from just that one sentence. He stares down at his hands in his lap as he speaks, but you can tell his eyes are looking at something beyond your gaze.

“It… Isn’t the worst one, but it’s still not great.” Simon laughs bitterly, shaking his head to try and rid his mind of the memories. Some part of him still felt like he was stuck down there trying to claw himself out, nothing but the rotten bones of someone else to help him along.

You aren’t sure what to say in response. A part of you wants to pry, to take the mile he’s offered with the inch given and see what horrible things seem to follow him like a shadow, but you can’t bring yourself to respond. Instead, you open your arms to him, head cocked to the side in question.

A hug. Simple, easy, comforting- For you at least. He looks up at you quietly for a few moments, the air easy and calmer in the space between you both as he considers your offer. His eyes are raw and wet when he finally relents, folding himself easily into your arms.

You make a point of ignoring the way his shoulders silently shake as he presses himself against you, his own arms going to loop around your waist with that same fragile care he’s always given to just you. An olive branch in the distance he always held between you, for his safety or your own you weren’t sure. You accept it all the same though, hands light and gentle as they go to rest against the back of his head, his shoulders, his spine; petting him like a wounded dog, some poor pet dying on the side of the road.

“You’re safe now, love,” You whisper in hesitance, body wound tight like a live wire as you wait to do something you shouldn't, cross some unspoken boundary you weren’t able to pick up on in this uncharted territory; But the moment never comes. His shoulders still shake, his face finding refuge in the pulse point between shoulder and throat, and you both act like your skin isn’t damp as you let him hide inside of you.

You don’t think you’ll ever find the right word for what you two have. It felt like something too delicate, too raw and wounded to be love, but it felt like it went deeper than just simple understanding. Beyond the realms of your minds or bodies, beyond the atrocities the two of you had both committed and been subjected to.

All that really matters to you though is that he trusts you, and you trust him, and you decide that that is all that matters.

#simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x soap #ghost/reader #simon riley/reader #call of duty #simon riley cod #ghost call of duty #my writing

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