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#when I read I Sing The Body Electric I had a moment like. hey this is Good writing
b4kuch1n · 2 years
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7; A medium of art you don't work in but appreciate. 19; Favorite inanimate objects to draw (food, nature, etc.). 28; Any art events you have participated in the past (like zines)!
hiiii plaid 💕
ask game here
7. A medium of art you don't work in but appreciate
puppetry! and puppet-making, for that matter. miniature and diorama making as well. both requires delicate hands and patience I don't possess, but both are so magical to me that I really wanna try my hand at them anyway... I love illusions maintained with artistry and layers upon layers of mechanisms! I love artifice! show me fake things! it's so sexy when art commits to its bit!
feels like it goes without saying but I also immensely appreciate animation, of course. as a comic artist the process of animation makes me shudder, but also genuinely so many character designs would be nothing without the motions assigned to them in animation, doubly so with monsters.
19. Favorite inanimate objects to draw (food, nature, etc.)
shoes and glasses. glasses I can draw pretty much from memory in one go because I've had a pair sitting on my nose for almost two decades now, shoes treat me much more mercurially but they're always such a fun thing to coordinate in a character design that I brute force my way through drawing them anyway lol. books are another thing I love drawing, making up cover designs and putting jokes in the text/illustrations are my favourite thing in a piece whenever I get to do it :]
28. Any art events you have participated in the past (like zines)
I'm turns out not a huge event person haha, the more I do stuff nowadays the more I don't keep up with any of that anymore... I had two pieces in the Salt&Pepper TeruMob zine back in the days, I did a comic for the Wear the Mask ITSV zine, I completed witchsona week in... 2018? and the paint witch has been my little pocket rascal ever since... oh yeah! I did an all-comic JosuYasu week in 2017 I think, it's still my hardest play and biggest accomplishment commitment-wise. putting down the most colloquial of sketches for all the comics beforehand, inking and lettering every comic from 8PM to around 6-7AM next day, go to sleep, wake up at like 4PM to make dinner, rinse and repeat for a week except for day 5 I think where I had to re-sketch the whole thing. those comics are all under five pages and I basically cut out the second detail sketching step to ink right on top of the preliminary sketch, but it was still a huge sprint that I'm still pretty proud of. and will never, ever do again. it was not good for me. I do think it was kind of awesome that I managed that! but never again in my goddamn life
(more recently I put in a piece for a local ace community's contest and got a nifty price. it was fun! but that piece's not for this sphere I feel like. it was the first time I saw something I drew in a gallery tho, that was really nice)
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liriostigre · 3 years
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hey! I wanted to ask what your favorite poetry books are? I have a few but I want to read new and interesting stuff, and I trust your taste :D
hiii ♡
tbh i only started reading poetry collections like,, last year. i'm subscribed to poetryfoundation's newsletter (poem of the day) so i usually just read random poems
anyway, i'm not sure my recs could be considered new (cause i'm gonna start with Mary Oliver ♡) but feel free to message me if you want to know the themes, style, feeling (vibes, if you will) or anything you want to know about these collections. for now, i'm linking my favorite poems in each collection, i hope this helps you choose! ♡
here you go:
Dream Work —Mary Oliver (“Wild Geese.” “Dogfish.”)
Red Bird —Mary Oliver (“Summer Morning.” “Love Sorrow.”)
Blue Horses —Mary Oliver (“To Be Human Is to Sing Your Own Song.” “Loneliness.” “Little Crazy Love Song.”)
The Wild Iris —Louise Glück (“Sunset.” “Retreating Light.”)
Haruko/Love Poems —June Jordan (“On a New Year’s Eve.” “Mendocino Memory.” “Toward a City That Sings.” *under the cut)
Extracting the Stone of Madness —Alejandra Pizarnik (“Primitive Eyes.” “Summer Goodbyes.” *under the cut)
Ariel —Sylvia Plath (“Tulips.” “The Rival.”)
Prelude to Bruise —Saeed Jones (“Postapocalyptic Heartbeat.” *under the cut)
Absolute Trust in the Goodness of the Earth —Alice Walker (“Coming Back from Seeing Your People.” *under the cut)
I Must Be Living Twice —Eileen Myles (“Edward the Confessor.” *under the cut)
Teaching My Mother How To Give Birth —Warsan Shire (“Conversations About Home (at the Deportation Centre.”)
The Black Unicorn —Audre Lorde (“Hanging Fire.” “Sister Outsider.”)
Bright Dead Things —Ada Limón (“The Riveter.” “Glow.”)
Night Sky With Exit Wounds —Ocean Vuong (“Thanksgiving 2006.” “Logophobia.”)
Postcolonial Love Poem —Natalie Diaz (“Manhattan Is a Lenape Word.”)
Crush —Richard Siken (“Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out.”)
Once —Alice Walker (“So We've Come at Last to Freud.”)
“Toward a City That Sings” by June Jordan
Into the topaz the crystalline signals of Manhattan the nightplane lowers my body scintillate with longing to lie positive beside the electric waters of your flesh and I will never tell you the meaning of this poem: Just say, ‘She wrote it and I recognize the reference.’ Please let it go at that. Although it is all the willingness you lend the world as when you picked it up the garbage scattering the cool formalities of Madison Avenue after midnight (where we walked for miles as though we knew the woods well enough to ignore the darkness) although it is all the willingness you lend the world that makes me want to clean up everything in sight (myself included)
for your possible discovery
“Primitive Eyes” by Alejandra Pizarnik
Where fear neither speaks in stories or poems, nor gives shape to terrors or triumphs.
My name, my pronoun — a grey void.
I’m familiar with the full range of fear. I know what it’s like to start singing and to set off slowly through the narrow mountain pass that leads back to the stranger in me, to my own emigrant.
I write to ward off fear and the clawing wind that lodges in my throat.
And in the morning, when you are afraid of finding yourself dead (of there being no more images): the silence of compression, the silence of existence itself. This is how the years fly by. This is how we lost that beautiful animal happiness.
“Summer Goodbyes” by Alejandra Pizarnik
The soft rumor of spreading weeds. The sound of things ruined by the wind. They come to me as if I were the heart of all that exists. I would like to be dead, and also to go inside another heart.
“Postapocalyptic Heartbeat” by Saeed Jones
I. Drugged, I dreamed you a plume of ash, great rush of wrecked air through the towns of my stupor. And when the ocean in your blood went toxic, I thought fire was what we needed: serrated light through the skin, grenade in the chest—pulled linchpin. I saw us breathing on the other side of after. But a blackout is not night; orange-bottled dreams are not sleep. II. I was a cross-legged boy in the third lifetime, empire of blocks in my lap while you walked through the door of your silence, hunting knife in one hand, flask in the other. I waited for you until I forgot to breathe, my want turning me colors only tongues of amaryllis could answer for. It owned me, that hunger, tendriled its way into my name for you. III. In a city made of rain each door, a silence; each lock, a mouth, I walked daily through the spit-slick streets, harbingers on my hands in henna: there will be no after Black-and-blue-garbed strangers, they called me Cassandra. (I had such a body then.) Umbrellas in hand, they listened while they unlistened. there will be no no. after
the world will end no.
you are the reason it no. ends
you no. IV. I didn’t exactly mean to survive myself. Half this life I’ve spent falling out of fourth-story windows. Pigeons for hair, wind for feet. Sometimes I sing “Stormy Weather” on the way down. Today, “Strange Fruit.” Each time, strangers find me drawing my own chalk outline on the sidewalk, cursing with a mouth full of iron, furious at my pulse. V. After ruin, after shards of glass like misplaced stars, after dredge, after the black bite of frost:        you are the after, you are the first hour in a life without clocks; the name of whatever falls from the clouds now is you (it is not rain), a song in a dead language, an unlit earth, a coast broken— how was I to know every word was your name?
“Coming Back from Seeing Your People” by Alice Walker
Coming back From seeing your people You were So wonderfully Full Of yourself.
But now You have supped With vampires They have fed Feasted On you.
They arise Bright-eyed Fit.
You alone have lost Not only Your sleep But also Your glow The luster of Affection Heart welcome Your people Sent home With you.
Beloved You must learn To walk alone To hold The precious Silence To bring home And keep the precious Little That is left Of yourself.
“Edward the Confessor” by Eileen Myles
I have a confession to make I wish there were some role in society I could fulfill I could be a confessor I have a confession to make I have this way when I step into the bakery on 2nd Ave. of wanting to be the only really nice person in the store so the harried sales woman with several toned hair will like me. I do this in all kinds of stores, coffee shops xerox shops, everywhere I go. And invariably I leave my keys, xeroxing, my coffee from the last place I am being so nice. I try so hard to make a great impression on these neutral strangers right down to the perfect warm smile I get entirely lost and stagger back out onto the street, bereft of something major. It’s really leaning too hard on the everyday. My mother was the kind of woman who dragging us into stores always seemed to charm the pants off the cashier. She was such a great person, so human though at home she was such a bitch, I mean really distant. I imitate her and I don’t do it well. She didn’t leave her wallet or us in a store. I’m just a pale imitation it is simply not my style to open the hearts of strangers to my true personhood. I hope you accept this tiny confession of what I am currently going through. And if you are experiencing something of a similar nature tell someone, not me, but tell someone. It’s the new human program to be in. It would be nice for at least these final moments if we could sigh with the relief of being in the same program with all the other humans whispering in school. I can’t quite locate the terror, but I am trying to be my mother or Edward the Confessor smiling down on you with up-praying hands. I am looking down at the tips of my boots as I step across the balcony of the church excited to be allowed to say these things. Outside my church is a relationship. On 11th street this guy and this woman are selling the woman so they can get more dope. All their things are there, rags and loaves of bread and make-up. And there was— this was incredible. Two men lying by the door of the church giving each other blow-jobs. They were sort of street guys, one black one white. I said hey you can’t do that here. They jumped up, one spit come out of his mouth. If you don’t get out of here I’ll call the cops. Don’t call the cops we’ll go, we’ll leave. That was a shock. That was more than I expected to see in a day. Something about seeing the guy spit come out of his mouth. He didn’t have to do that. I guess I scared him. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I was scared too.
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mickey-henry · 3 years
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𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲
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pairing: bucky barnes x reader
summary: bucky’s been flirting with you, but hasn’t taken it further than that. frustrated, you decide to take matters into your own hands.
word count: 2.1k
warnings: occasional swearing (but not much) and frustrating flirting (I’d be melting if it was happening to me). besides that, this fic is pure fluffy fun.
author’s note: hello there! this is my second fic; I’m very excited to post it! I found the header image here, and if you want to listen to the song I reference in this fic, you can listen here. bold text indicates singing, while italicized text refers to inner thoughts. likes, reblogs, messages, replies, and comments are cherished! I hope you like it! 💖
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Bucky Barnes is an acquaintance at best. The two of you rarely work together, and with conflicting schedules, you see little of each other around the compound. On a random Friday in April, however, something changes in you. The moment is nothing out of the ordinary. You’re sitting on the couch in the main living space, re-reading one of your favorite books. Bucky has just returned from a mission; you glance up to see his exhausted expression. He catches your eye, winking with a smile, before walking to his room. Your heart flutters and your head freezes at the response. “Oh, no,” you think to yourself. “Maybe that was a one-time thing? I don’t actually like him, right?” Wrong. 
Ever since that night, the mere presence of Bucky Barnes drives you crazy: his stunning blue eyes that squint ever so slightly when he smiles, his adorable nose that crinkles when he laughs, his pillowy lips that you lose yourself in, his  fluffy hair you can’t help but imagine running your fingers through, his scruff speckled jawline that you wish would brush along your hands, cheeks, anywhere really. He occupies your dreams; you can’t escape this man even if you try. Today, he drives you crazier than usual. He stands in the compound's kitchen in a tight black t-shirt, one that leaves nothing to the imagination. This is the first time you’ve seen him in short sleeves, in anything other than tactical gear. You can’t help but stare as he prepares his lunch. The shirt hugs his frame tight, accentuating his biceps that had no right to be that big. “Gosh, he must spend hours in the gym to look like that.” You then notice the vein in his right arm protruding from his skin, tracing it with your eyes. You didn’t think he could become any more beautiful, but here he is before you, incredible as ever. 
You’re pulled from your reverie when Bucky calls your name. “Yeah?” you reply, barely masking the startled stutter in your voice.
“Pass me the salt?”
“Oh! Sure, of course,” you muster, taking a sip of water from the glass in front of you as you hand him the salt shaker. 
“Thanks, doll,” he flirts with a smile, the same one he gave you that night when he got back to the compound. You nearly choke. “Bucky Barnes called me a term of endearment?!? Holy shit.” Your heart swells and you look down at your glass in a desperate attempt to hide the blush creeping its way across your cheeks. “Goodness gracious, I respond this way from a simple word?” You couldn’t imagine how you’d feel if he touched you. 
It didn’t take long to find out. The following day, you stand in the kitchen prepping your lunch, singing softly along to the song playing from your phone. Bucky appears soon after. He stands close to you for a moment, closer than necessary, but of course you don’t mind. He has just showered; his cologne lingers in the air, intoxicating you. Somehow, you keep singing along, showing no sign that your mind is elsewhere. 
“Ugh, he smells amazing. This man has too much power over me; this is ridiculous! I don’t even remember what I was doing—”
“You have a beautiful voice,” he compliments.
“Thank you, Bucky,” you softly reply, your heart racing at his praise.
“Let me get by you real fast, doll,” he says, moving to walk behind you. 
“There he goes again with the pet name. My god, could this get any worse—” 
He places his hands gently on your hips as he moves beside you. Electricity travels through your whole body; you’re internally screaming at his touch. His hands feel better than you imagined. Even though the contact lasts only a moment, the effects of his touch linger after, leaving you speechless. 
You hear a musical chuckle from the man behind you. “Is he teasing me? It sure feels like it,” you wonder. There is no way that he can’t see the effect he has on you. Before you can even formulate another thought, he touches you again as he moves back to the other side of you. “That was definitely on purpose; certainly he wouldn’t do this by accident. Right?”
Your eyes linger as he finishes putting together his lunch. He catches your gaze and smiles. “See you later, sweetheart,” he says with a wink before leaving the room. “Okay, that answers my question; that was very intentional. What am I going to do with myself?”
You don’t know how much longer you can take his teasing. Throughout the week, he ups his antics, calling you pet names more than your own, stealing touches whenever he can get away with it, smiling whenever you make eye contact. The tension is insatiable; thoughts of Bucky follow you everywhere. You decide to take matters in your own hands; Bucky did not seem to be planning to make a move anytime soon. If he is going to tease the hell out of you, you might as well get some payback. 
───────────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ ─────────────
Tony’s announcement of Friday night karaoke gives you a wicked idea. However, for it to work, you need to recruit help. You know just who to ask. It doesn’t take long to find Sam and Steve; they spent a ton of their free time sparring in the gym. They seem to be at the end of their workout, their movements slow and sloppy, relying on witty retorts to throw off the other. They stop when they notice your arrival. 
“Hey!” Sam says with a smile, hugging you as you approach. You squeeze him tightly, even with his sticky sweat coating his arms. You greet Steve with a hug too.
“What brings you to our neck of the woods?” Steve asks as you let go.
“Can I ask you guys something? And you promise you two won’t laugh at me? Especially if I'm reading this wrong?”
“Of course,” answers Steve. 
“Yeah, for sure,” replies Sam. 
You hesitate for a second, taking a deep breath. “Does Bucky like me? I swear he does. He keeps teasing me, and I don’t know how much longer I can take it. I think I am practically in love with the guy at this point, he’s so beautiful and—”
You stop as the boys exchange glances and begin laughing. 
You cross your arms, hurt. “You said you wouldn’t laugh at me! I can’t control how I feel.”
“No! Wait! We aren’t laughing at you!” Steve says between giggles. 
You furrow your brows. “Then why are you laughing?”
“Bucky’s obsessed with you,” Steve answers after calming his laughter. 
“God, yes, you’re all he talks about nowadays,” Sam adds. 
“What?! He does? Why? Are you shitting me right now? Because that would be really freaking mean—“
“No! Of course not,” Steve insists. “Don’t you see the way he looks at you?”
“And the pet names he gives you?” Sam adds.
“And how he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself lately?” Steve finishes. 
Now you feel stupid for even asking. Of course you noticed all of those things. They were all you ever thought about. “Well, yeah, but maybe he does that with all the girls.”
“What girls?” Sam retorted. “The only women who are here often enough to cross paths with him are you, Natasha, and Wanda. Wanda’s with Vision, as weird as that is, but love is love. Natasha shoots daggers at anyone who looks at her with love in their eyes. That leaves you.”
“Why in the world would he like me? Of all people? He’s out of my league,” you sigh,
Sam’s scoff pulls you from your thoughts. “Bucky? Out of your league? He’s a crazy ex-assassin with emotional issues! If anything, he's out of your league.”
“You’re a catch, why wouldn’t he like you?” Steve assures.
Steve and Sam always know just what to say to make you feel better. “I guess you’re right,” you admit with a defeated grin. 
“So, you know how Bucky feels. What are you going to do about it?” Steve asks. 
“I have an idea, but I need your help.”
“We’re listening.”
You divulge your plan to them. They smile, hyping you up. 
“Dude, I’m so down!” Sam exclaims, clapping his hands in excitement. 
“You think this will work?”
“Definitely,” Steve assures. “This is going to be amazing!”
“Okay then, we’re doing this. Let’s go find Bucky. Time to initiate phase one.”
───────────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ ─────────────
Bucky is sitting on the common room couch, flipping through a book when he sees you, Sam, and Steve enter. He exchanges a glance with you, smiling as your eyes light up. The three of you sit down. You’re sitting next to Sam, closer than usual. There’s a brief moment of silence before you speak. “Sam, are you going to karaoke night?”
“Of course! Wouldn’t miss everyone’s drunk-ass singing for the world.”
“Will you be my duet partner?”
This catches Bucky’s attention. He looks up from his book. Why the hell were you asking Sam to sing with you? You normally ask the girls...
“Sure thing, baby. It’ll be a ton of fun!” Sam smiles. 
Baby?! What?! How dare he call you a pet name, his girl, right in front of him? Well, you may not be his girl yet, but Sam knows how he feels about you. What the hell is he thinking?
“Yay! This’ll be so fun!” You hug him, grabbing his hand before continuing, “Wanna practice with me in a bit?”
“Find me when you’re ready, sweetheart,” Sam answers, kissing your knuckle before letting go of your hand. 
Sweetheart?! What the fuck was going on? Did he miss his shot? Would Sam really do that to him? Bucky can barely handle his swirling thoughts. He storms out of the room without looking back. 
Steve can’t help but laugh once Bucky is out of earshot. “That worked a little too well, wouldn’t you say so?”
“That wasn’t too far, was it?” you ask with a worried expression on your face. 
“Nah, don’t worry about it. He’ll just come on even stronger now. He won’t give up on you that easily,” Sam assures you. 
───────────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ ─────────────
Bucky can barely contain his anger as you step on the stage with Sam, giggling and smiling at your karaoke partner. Jealousy engulfs him. He can barely listen to the start of the song, ignoring the catchy beat blasting through the speakers. He doesn’t recognize the song, but looks up from his drink when you sing, “Hey Bucky boy, what you doing tonight? I wanna see what you got in store."
He looks right at you. Did she just say Bucky?
Sam echoes, “Hey, hey Bucky!” Well, that answers his question.
“You're giving it your all when you're dancing on me. I want to see if you can give me some more,” you continue, twirling your fingers through your hair.
“Hey, hey Bucky!”
“You can be my man, I can be your girl, and we can pump this jam however you want,” you sing, swaying your hips to the cadence of the lyrics.
“Hey, hey Bucky!”
“Pump it from the side, pump it upside down, or we can pump it from the back and the front,” you wink as you finish the line. Bucky sits up suddenly, crossing his legs, his face turning beet red. You smile, knowing the plan was working. Steve laughs from beside him. He keeps his eyes glued on you as the two of you continue the song, utterly entranced. You look him right in the eye as you end the song, “I want you tonight.”
You saunter over to where he is sitting after high-fiving Sam, confidence filling your chest. “So, what did you think of my performance, Bucky?”
You yelp as he grabs your hips and pulls you down to sit on his lap. His voice deepens, “you’re such a tease, you know that right?”
You laugh. “I’m the tease? Really? You’re the one who just pulled me onto your lap and taunts me with flirtatious remarks and smiles all freaking day. My god Bucky, make a move already—”
He cuts you off, pulling you in for a kiss, his flesh arm grabbing the back of your neck. The team whoops and cheers. 
“Glad you finally made a move, Bucky,” you pant as your lips part from his.
“Best decision I ever made in my life, doll.” Before you can respond, he kisses you again, the karaoke bar fading in the background as you finally embrace the man of your dreams.
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fang-natic · 3 years
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Sing, Nightingale (part 1) - keigo tamaki x top!reader
You needed to know what he knew, but he wasn't going to give it up without a fight. Not that that matters. You know exactly what kind of fight to give him.
cw: kidnapping, noncon, bondage, mild knifeplay, orgasm denial, bdsm elements, humiliation, blackmail, drugging, needles, overstimulation, wing kink (is that what we're calling it)
an: i said i'd do it so i did. i dont know why i did it. or why it's so fucking long (gdocs says it's 1.3k, what the fuck). but i read some oneshots and did some limited browsing of the wiki so here you go. if you see something that doesn't make sense with the canon, no you don't <3
now i need to write a part 2 for this where you actually get to fuck him stupid. part 2 will probably establish reader to be amab, but you can read this part one as gn!reader
"So, who are you working with?" Hawk asks, cheeks still pink from where you'd ripped the duct tape off. "The Liberation Front? Some evil-League-offshoot? Or are you rogue?"
God, he's talkative. His wings are depleted to ragged, feathery stumps and ropes are criss-crossed over his arms and torso. He's on his knees right now, legs spread with shins bound to his thighs, and a bruise forming nicely on his cheek. Despite that, he still has the gall to mouth off.
You respond with another sharp backhand, this time across the other cheek, sending him careening to the side. "That's none of your concern," You drawl. "You're simply here to tell me what you know, and I'm here to learn it. However long that takes is up to you."
He slowly draws himself back up, shaking his head. He spits some blood onto the floor - "Damn, bit my cheek," he mutters - and looks up at you again. Still no fear in those golden eyes. A lazy grin on his abused face. "You get right to the point, huh? Damn, I like you a lot better than the other villains already."
"Then I take it that you'll be cooperative?"
"Ha, fuck no."
You kick him this time. Not hard enough to break his neck, but you catch him upside the chin, and hear the sharp clack of his teeth snapping together. His head almost droops to the floor in pain before he catches himself. "Almost felt that one."
"You're insufferable." You debate kicking him again, but you need his jaw intact so he can actually give you the info you need.
"That's what they all tell me," He laughs around the blood in his mouth. "Don't flatter yourself by thinking you're the first one to catch me. Plenty of other villains have tried the same thing, and none of them have actually made me sing. You're not gonna be very different."
"I wouldn't be so sure."
You crouch down with a knife in hand, and start the process of cutting away his clothes. He shivers as you make quick work of his shirt, and you can feel his heartbeat peak against his skin, though that doesn't actually stop the cocky lilt of his voice.
"Ah, classic, classic. The ol 'strip-and-whip' method. Most people buy me dinner first, but you're hot so I can make the exception-" He stutters a bit as you grab the waistband of his pants, jerking it upwards so you can drag the blade down the seams. "Phew, you're thorough, huh? Though I can't blame you, my ass is to die for-"
"You're rambling," You chide him. He's now entirely naked, save for his underwear and the shreds of his clothes that are still pinned do this body by the ropes. "Are you nervous, Keigo?"
"Hey now," He protests. "We're not on a first name basis. And this isn't my first rodeo, so..." He trails off as you pull at the elastic of his underwear so harshly it rips. "Whoa, okay, buy me dinner first." He laughs, but it's pitched a little higher.
"I know the kind of villains you've dealt with, Keigo." You touch the knife under his chin and tilt him up to meet his eyes. Finally, some reaction - his pupils have gone small with poorly-concealed fear. "The ones that use electricity and knives to try and make you talk. But you're a spy, aren't you? You're trained to deal with pain. I could cut you up bloody and you still wouldn't sing."
Your other hand squeezes his thigh, traveling up to his hip, tracing along the curve of his hipbone. "But I'm not like those other villains," You say, voice low and murmured right into his ear, as you press your palm against his cock, feeling it twitch as he yelps. "You're going to wish I was."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
You have him blindfolded now, and still kneeling in the middle of the cold, concrete room. His cock is stiff and drooling against his abdomen, leashed by a ring at the base. Vibrators hum from where they're clipped to his nipples, and stuffed deep into his ass.
His spine jerks as you play idly with the remote, a whine breaking out behind his clenched teeth. You've been at this for a while now, and he'd been mouthy at first, telling you how this was 'a normal Saturday night for him', and 'I don't need a safeword, don't worry' and 'can I call you daddy or is that off the table.' He'd shut up at the half-hour mark when he realized he was wasting his breath, and that you weren't kidding when you said you had no time limit.
Even so, he was handling things impressively. His bottom lip was bitten raw from where he'd tried to keep quiet, and not once has he begged or pleaded. You were going to need to step things up.
You turn the vibrations down, and he relaxes for an instant, before tensing up the moment he hears your footsteps approach. "What, bored already?" He rasps, making a grin that was more like a snarl. "And here I thought I was putting on a good show."
"I'm about to make it a better one, no worries." You pull the ring off his cock in one quick motion, and it bobbles obscenely. When you lift up a corner of the blindfold, a golden, watery eye blinks back. In your other hand, you hold a syringe, courtesy of Dr. Garaki himself (or pilfered from his laboratory, more like), and he darts between looking at you and it, eying the little needle nervously. "Don't worry, little bird. This isn't a Quirk-eraser or anything like that. It's just going to make you feel things." You pause. "Feel everything, in fact."
"Get away from me," He hisses, facade cracking as you bring the needle down near his neck. You fist your hand in his hair and force his head back, exposing the smooth contour of his throat. "Don't you fucking dare-"
"Whoops," You hum, as you inject him. "Too late."
His entire body shudders, and his eyes goes wide, pupil shrinking to a thin slit, and his mouth drops open in a shaky gasp. Garaki really outdid himself with this one, because the moment you release the hero he's curling in on himself, skin already flushing brightly in the cool air.
"What did-" He groans, throat working in a dry swallow. "What did you fucking do?!"
"It's terrible, isn't it?" You watch as he writhes, trying to position himself in a way that won't make him feel the ropes that are cutting into his skin, or the grit on the floor beneath his knees. "Everything that touches you is now amplified. Like so-" And you demonstrate and dragging one finger along the base of his wing, and he shakes like a leaf, a helpless whimper falling out of his throat. "Isn't that overwhelming?"
He growls, and flaps pathetically. "Don't you fucking touch them."
Ah, that's right. You remember he'd mentioned something about that. In some talk show or another; how he could feel things through his feathers, but only the ones at the base, and how he'd sometimes spend his free time combing through them.
You reach out now and grab one of his wings, squeezing and twisting, feeling all those little feathers tickle at your palm. Keigo, on the other hand, screams as if you shot him, and-
He cums just like that. Splatters white across the gray cement and onto his own stomach. His thighs shaking with the force of it, getting rubbed pink and stinging against the floor, and the blindfold darkens around his eyes with tears. He's gasping for breath like he just finished a race.
You can't help but laugh - one rough touch, and he was undone. You reach down and squeeze his softening cock, and he spasms, shaking his head. "Wai wait wait no, too much it hurts I can't-"
"Sure you can," You twist your hand, and he chokes on air. "Or do you want to be a good boy and finally tell me what I want to know?"
His jaw clamps shut at that, and you sigh. "Guess not." You shrug, and you squeeze a little tighter to watch him cry out.
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finelinevogue · 3 years
Note
hey! first of all i’m obsessed with all of your writing i swear i cry every single time😭🤍 i look forward to reading your stuff when i get home from work, and it helps me when i’m stressed. so basically hi i love you. i recently celebrated 1 year sober and i was wondering if you could write something abou harry dedicating a song to his gf for maintaining her sobriety? (only if you’re comfortable ofc!)
hi, i love you too! sorry for making you cry😭 your words are so kind and you’ve made my day so much brighter! congratulations on your one year sobriety!!! i hope you’re very proud of yourself, because i’m really proud of you - always <33 i’m not sure what you are sober for and i don’t to be invasive and ask, so i decided to base this one off an alcohol addiction. this one’s for you, my lovely; (oh and p.s. let’s pretend harry wrote ‘home’ just for you and one direction never wrote it!)
Today you celebrated being one year sober.
Four years ago you developed an alcohol addiction. It was the worst time of your life; going to parties just to wake up still paralytic, drinking an alcoholic drink with every meal and a couple in between, falling asleep drunk every night and not learning your lesson from the hangover the next morning. You were self destructing and were too gone to see it happen. The people around you could see it happening though. Your family and friends abandoned you because you they believed you were a lost cause. You were alone for 3 lonely years, until last year you met Harry.
The one time that you were actually sober, shopping in your local Aldi, was the first time you met him.
He was dressed from a run and was in the fridge section to grab himself a protein shake before he was about to run home - that you’d come to learn. He made minimal conversation with you, but it was enough for him to fall for you - hard. Every time you met up with him you tried to be as sober as you could, but it caught up to you. You slipped and shut yourself out from him, not wanting him to leave you like everyone else had so you left him first.
As it would be, he never left you. He saved you.
He was there for you in your darkest moments. He was there to help lock your demons away and introduce life back into your heart and soul. You wanted to be better for him, he deserved that much. Half a year after meeting him, he managed to encourage you to attend counselling sessions which you would be worse without. He made calls to friends to help you re-connect with people, truly friendly people. He hugged you on the days you felt anxious or tempted and let you cry on his shoulder when you felt like a failure, all the whilst he would kiss your forehead and squeeze you to remind you just how much you were loved and just how proud he was of you. It took you a while to believe it, but;
Harry Styles loves and is proud of you.
You were so happy to spending the day with him, getting to watch him do what he loves so much. He was in Denver, Colorado, tonight and his set was going perfect so far. He’d given his infamous “ass or face” speech, which made the fans go wild. He, unfortunately, had to use the oxygen mask to replenish his lungs because he wasn’t feeling great. He’d even shouted to you when you were blowing him kisses saying, “I wanna kiss you but I can’t” which made you tear up ever so slightly. Today was such a proud and happy day for you, so extra moments like this for you were the cherries on the top of the cake.
“Okay, so we have 15 more minutes of love tonight for you.” Harry spoke into his microphone, after singing Treat People With Kindness and looking so very sweaty. “15 minutes of extra love compared to the previous show.” The fans screamed at this and you knew the fans in Vegas would no doubt be extra jealous.
“He’s allowed to do that?” You asked Jeff beside you, wondering why he was changing the timings all of a sudden. He hadn’t told you about this.
“He specifically requested it before going onstage.” Jeff answered, winking at you and nodding his head back to the stage for you to focus.
“Now. Today is not only special because I get to play in front of you lovely people,” the crowd let out a deafening scream, “but because it is an important day for my Y/N.” He smiled, looking over in your direction. The crowd screamed even louder for you.
“What is he doing?” You asked Jeff but he only smiled and shrugged his shoulders. Liar, you thought.
You’d never publicly told anyone about your addiction because it was something that you were embarrassed about. You hated who you were and you tried your hardest not to think about that person anymore. Harry was the only person who knew and you liked to keep it that way, for the time being. Not even your new friends knew.
“I’m so proud of Y/N, always, but especially today.” Harry spoke, walking down the stage to the end of the runway where his mic was set up and still keeping eye contact with you. Your tears were full in your eyes and some even streaming down your face as you took in his words.
He’d spent all morning loving on you. He didn’t let you two leave the hotel room until 5 minutes before the buses were leaving, because he wanted to spend as much time as possible showing you just how much he loved you. Turns out 4 rounds of sex, 2 blowjobs and 3 times getting eaten out doesn’t even come close to showing that, according to him, but it did make you feel worthy and that’s all you’ve wanted to feel for the past few years. He made you feel worth it - it being loved and supported and safe. He was your blanket of comfort and you’d let him swallow you up every day for the rest of your life if it meant feeling this way forever.
Harry had even bought you a card and a cake, one that had a singular candle in to mark your one year anniversary of being sober. The sense of pride getting to blow out that candle was a feeling second to none, except from maybe the 7 orgasms you were given.
“So if you don’t mind, i’m going to sing this song for my girlfriend. It’s new, but i’m sure you’ll pick up the chorus. This is called ‘Home’ and it’s just for you, m’love.” God damn these tears, you could barely see Harry pick up his galaxy painted guitar and tilt his body so he was facing you.
The song had you in tears.
Fans were both recording you and Harry, but you were too unaware to notice them when all you could focus on were the words he was singing to you. Every line was so clear and it made your heart burst through your chest that little bit more each time. You cupped your hands under your vin as you cried over every new line of song, watching him strum on the guitar and sing his heart out as if every ounce of him was just for you. His words, his voice, his heart and soul were completely yours. The fans did quickly pick up the chorus and the atmosphere was completely still, yet electric with them feeding off Harrys energy and gifting it to you.
“You’ll never feel like you’re alone, i’ll make this feel like home.”
His last line was sung and his last chord was struck and you couldn’t move an inch. You were stuck watching him with intense loved eyes, feeling an overwhelming sense of support and comfort just from this moment alone. You thought what he’d given you this morning in the hotel was love, but now you questioned that. This felt like a reminder you were free and safe and found. You felt significant. And for a moment, that all felt a like bit stronger than love.
You didn’t even realise your boyfriend was standing in front of you until he was. He caressed your cheek in one hand, holding the neck of his guitar with his other. The fans were being caged behind a barricade, but they weren’t even violently pushing because they wanted to see how he treated you and acted around you behind closed doors. Your relationship was very private, so this was very new for you too. You liked him close though. So much so that everyone else sort of slipped away.
“That bad?” He asked teasingly, referring to the amount of tears you were crying.
“Was a bit rusty in some places.” You teased back, you and him both knowing you didn’t mean a word that you’d just said. You both laughed until you caught Harrys hand on your cheek and moved it so you could plant a soft kiss to his palm. “Thank you for making me feel home.” You smiled, new tears forming in both yours and his now.
“Thank you for being my home.” He replied, smiling through the light tears.
“Stop crying,” you laughed through your own tears, reaching out your other hand to wipe his away, “not very rockstar of you.”
“Can’t help myself when i’m so proud of you.” He answered, moving his hand off his guitar so he could help wipe your tears away. Both of you were helping each other recover, forgetting about the world just for a minute to have a moment with each other. You both deserved that much.
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maybanksslut · 3 years
Text
Truth or Dare || s.b.
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Pairing: Sirius black x reader
Requested: yes, by @welcome-here-in-my-world
Word count: 2k
Warnings: explicit language, enemies to lovers, fluff
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You’d despised Sirius Black for as long as you could remember. It was no secret to anyone. You’d never been someone to hate people, but he, oh how he got on your nerves. Never had you met anyone as annoying and irksome as him.
Everything about him made your blood boil. His friends and their stupid pranks they always pulled on you. One day it was dying your hair a bright color, another they’d settle for spilling water all over you. Everything just to see that angered expression on your “cute little face” as Sirius always said.
You also despised his smirk. Oh, how you wished to just wipe it off his face! The way his lips curled up in a mischievous smile each time he’d made a stupid comment or pulled a dumb prank. It made you crazy in the worst way possible. Not to mention that glint in his eyes when he knew he’d got under your skin. You hated how he was able to anger you so easily.
Last, but not least, you hated his popularity. How every girl and boy were his possession, how they all would do anything for him. He had everyone wrapped around his finger and that made you feel threatened. He might have been attractive, but his personality was fucking disgusting.
At least, that’s what you told yourself. Truth be told, what you hated most, was the absolutely awful crush you’d developed on the boy. You had no idea how, why, or when, but somehow you’d fallen for the boy you seemingly despised.
“Y/n?” Lily snapped her fingers in front of your face, bringing you back to reality.
“Huh?”
“I asked you if you were coming to the quidditch game tonight. ‘S Gryffindor against Slytherin”
“Oh,” you thought for a moment, before frowning. Gryffindor was playing, which meant Sirius would be there. Which also meant that you’d have to pretend you didn’t care about his stupid smile, and that was starting to get on your nerves. Lily was close enough to find out about the crush already, you needn’t make it easier for her. “I don’t think so, I’m really tired”
Lily just nodded in response, continuing to scribble something down in her notebook. You sighed. How long was this going to last? If the crush didn’t vanish soon, you would be sure Lily would sense something and confront you about it. And since no one was able to lie to Lily, you really didn’t want that to happen.
After a moment, you excused yourself, heading for your dorm. Unfortunately, fate didn’t want to let you off the hook that easily. You’d only walked a few steps before harshly colliding with someone’s chest, stumbling backward and dropping your bag.
“Ow!” You exclaimed, rubbing your forehead. You didn’t even bother looking up at the person who’d walked into you, as you already knew that chuckle too well.
“You should be careful not to fall for me, sweetheart,” Sirius laughed, bending down to pick up your books. A smirk was playing on his lips, and he looked quite pleased with himself for bumping into you.
“Right,” you scoffed. “You don’t have to worry about that. ‘S not gonna happen. Can I get my books now?”
“Sure,” he replied, raising them over his head instead of handing them over. You shot him a glare, jumping up to reach them. That was to no use, obviously, since he was taller than you.
You groaned, pushing him away and trying to annoy him, yet he only appeared even more amused, his smirk now a full grin, his pretty teeth showing. God, he was really pretty when he smiled... No! He was not pretty and he was not attractive, he was a prick and you didn’t like him.
Both tired and flustered by his behavior, you turned around to leave him. If he wanted the books, you’d let him have them. Better than anyone realizing you don’t hate him as much as you told everyone you did.
“Hey, wait,” surprised, you turned around to see Sirius jogging up to you.
Without a smirk on his face, he handed you your books. The moment his fingers touched yours, an electric wave shot through you, setting every particle in your body on fire, and suddenly, it was hard to breathe. You seemed to have got lost in his eyes, drowning in the stormy orbs. For a moment, it felt as if you had some sort of connection. A mutual feeling.
Then, he pulled away and the magic was gone, leaving nothing but two people that hated each other.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“We’re having truth or dare in the common room later, you wanna come?”
Lily’s words make you sigh. Sure, you liked truth or dare, but with the whole Gryffindor house? Way too risky. You could accidentally spill your secret.
Perhaps you were worrying too much. Perhaps letting that dumb crush take over your life was foolish, it wasn’t that much of a big deal. Teens have crushes all the time, how is this any different? The truth was, you didn’t quite know why, but it felt different.
Not to mention that moment in the hall... god, you’d thought about his fingers grazing yours for the whole night. It didn’t exactly help that he was now sitting beside Lily, his gaze lingering on you and a small smile tugging on his lips.
“Yeah, y/n, you’d come,” he said. “There’s gonna be firewhiskey”
“I’m not an alcoholic,” you snorted.
“Everyone’s an alcoholic in seventh year”
“Sure,” you turned to your red-headed friend. “I’ll come”
Lily grinned, clasping her hands together. She then left, muttering something about ‘having to prepare the party’, leaving you alone with no other than Sirius Black. You tried to eat your meal silently, keeping your eyes away from his face, but it was nearly impossible when he kept staring at you shamelessly.
You looked up, only to reveal Sirius with his head tilted. There was something in his expression that made him look like he thought you were a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out. The two of you didn’t say a word, letting comfortable silence answer every question for you.
Even though you couldn’t really read him, there was something that told you this silence was more than silence. It was like an agreement between you. What you had agreed on? You weren’t sure, but it felt good. Freeing, almost. And you didn’t want to let it go.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The music was sending vibrations through your whole body as it loudly flew out of the speakers. The whole common room was filled with students, there were bodies everywhere. People were dancing, screaming, and singing to celebrate Gryffindor's victory over Slytherin in quidditch.
Someone bumped into you, spilling their drink all over you. You were going to scold him, but the person was already gone. You scoffed to yourself, angrily stomping towards the table you’d previously seen Lily sit at. You were starting to regret coming here at all. Not only did you have to handle Sirius Black, but you also had to dodge all the drunk students that were swaying their bodies in every possible direction.
“This is why I hate parties” you muttered to yourself, spitting down on Lily’s left. She smiled, not even looking at you, bringing her drink up to her lips.
You followed her gaze, only to find her staring at James Potter. Not that you were surprised. The two of them had been pining for each other for god knows how long. You chuckled to yourself as Lily’s gaze met James’. You noticed he was hesitant about coming over when you were there as well, so you quickly fled the scene so they could have some alone time.
You found yourself a new spot, by the tray with firewhiskies, where you quietly drank the alcohol. It was freeing to feel the booze numb your senses and you almost forgot why you didn’t want to come here at all. Almost.
“Well, well, well, who do we have here?”
“Piss off, Sirius”
“Ouch,” he jokingly grabbed his chest. “You’ve wounded me”
“Good,” you spat, getting ready to leave the whole party. Your mood was ruined, not because he seemingly annoyed you, but because Sirius had a very irksome way of making you feel things you shouldn’t feel.
He made you feel something for him.
“Leaving already?” He pouted, running a hand through his hair. “We haven’t even had the chance to play truth or dare”
“I don’t care”
“No, wait,” he almost pleaded. “Just one game. For me. Please?”
You really wanted to leave and forget this conversation ever happened, but with Sirius looking at you like that, it was impossible. You sighed in resignation, following your so-called enemy to the middle of the common room.
He was quick to silence everyone and make them sit in a circle on the floor. For some reason, it annoyed you how all the girls sent him flirty looks. Luckily, he didn’t return them, only sent you a small smile, which, completely against your will, turned your legs to jelly. If you weren’t already seated, you’d probably faint.
“Okay, everyone knows the rules, right? The only difference is this time I stole this from Slughorn,” he took out some sort of potion from his pocket. From the triumphant smirk on his face, you guessed it was a truth potion. And you weren’t wrong. “That’s right, folks, veritaserum. Now this game will be more honest than ever”
God, this was taking an awful turn. Yes, now the word truth had a completely different meaning. Before at least you could’ve lied about something you didn’t want to answer, but now? You were forced to actually reveal all your darkest secrets.
But no worries, right? There were at least fifty people here, surely you wouldn’t be chosen in the first few rounds. Right?
Wrong.
“Y/n, truth or dare?” You steered in shock at the bottle Sirius had just spun. How were you the first one to get chosen? Did really life hate you that much?
You could see he was amused. His eyes had that glint of mischief in them, and he was grinning widely. “Uh, dare”
No! No, no, no, what had you done? Yes, if you’d chosen truth, you’d have to tell someone a secret, but now Sirius, of all people, was the one to decide your fate! Oh, how you wished he’d have mercy and dare you to jump on one leg or braid someone’s hair.
But that was just wishful thinking and you knew it, just as you knew Sirius. And his mischievous smirk only made you more certain. He wasn’t going to go easy on you.
“I dare you to kiss the most attractive person in this room”
And that’s when you freaked out. Your hands were full of sweat and you hoped to his no one saw your heated up face. Your lower lip quivered and you were almost sure you’d start crying.
Surprisingly enough, your behavior didn’t go unnoticed by Sirius, whose smile had faded at your reaction. Instead, his eyes filled with worry and he grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the common room. You vaguely heard some people complain, but Sirius ignored them. All he cared about was getting you out.
He stopped in the hall, turning to look at you.
“Okay,” he began. You opened your mouth to apologize, but he put a finger on your lips. “Shhh, you don’t have to say anything. It’s okay, I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to, y’know”
You were taken aback by his words. He didn’t seem much of an apologizing person. Perhaps he didn’t mean it? But his gaze told you that he wasn’t joking, not his time.
In the heat of the moment, you offered him a smile. “It’s okay. I just didn’t want to kiss you in front of everyone”
For once, you were the one to make him flustered and confused. He opened his mouth to say something, yet nothing came out. You... thought he was attractive? You, who he’d been so annoying too, like, forever? Realization spread across his face. Perhaps you didn’t hate him after all?
“You can kiss me now”
“Keep dreaming”
The smile you sent him made him feel weak and he could slowly, but surely feel himself falling for you. Although he didn’t want to admit it, he knew he’d do anything to get that kiss from you.
TAGLIST: @rorysreallyrandom @swanimagines @lxncelot @emmacata @i-cant-stfu @sirius-animagus @jupiiiter @captainshazamerica @iamninaanna @amortensie @theravenclawgal
FIC REVIEWERS: @amourtentiaa @slutforsalvatore @acosmis-t @iamninaanna @coffee--writes
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shotosprincess · 3 years
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what if... — shoto todoroki
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“ what if we kissed then? just to prove that we don’t have feelings for each other. “
summary: ever since you and todoroki started working together as pro heroes, your friends simply wouldn’t let up on teasing you two, suspecting that there was something between you—something that extended past the bounds of business.
notes: fluff ,, todoroki being flustered ( aaaa he’s so cute bye ) the bakusquad teasing and egging ya’ll on ( their dialogue is color coded so it’s easier to read ! ) ,, denki being a little bit of a busybody <3
“ ooooh look who it is! the power coupleeee! “ the sing-song tone of denki’s teasing rung through the hall as he spotted you and todoroki entering the building from a long day of pro hero work.
grey streaks of dust and ash littered your bodies, streaks of sweat and diluted stripes of dried crimson staining multiple sides on both your faces. his hair was tattered and slightly singed from the discord of an especially-messy battle, yours was tangled in a hopeless mess. a heavy sigh leaves you. that would be a pain to brush through later.
your numbed fingers, body exhausted and worn out, run through your hair in a wordless frustration. shoto tenses up noticeably at denki’s playful comment. “ denki. we’re not a couple. “
his lips raise into a cheeky, if not mildly-irritating smirk as he leans further into the velvet couch, draping his arms round the back. “ oh yeah? take your arm off their shoulder then, shoto. “
your partner’s face lights up with a rose so brilliant, it almost even matched with the rubied strands of his hair. his lips tightly purse together, sliding his arm, which was, in fact, casually resting on your shoulder, off with a hurried swoop.
“ shut it, kaminari. “ he huffs in a low, almost even threatening tone as he walks past the energetic blonde at an increased pace. you frown. he seemed so worked up over it, and for what? it’s not as if this was the first time someone had poked at you for being a “ couple “—which you were not, but you were never the one to readily disprove their remarks, though delivered in a joking manner. it’s not as if you felt anything of the sort for him...right?
so then why was it so hard to admit that you weren’t anything more than what you were on the field? it was the truth, after all.
“ jeez, what’s with him? i was just kidding. “ sticking a lollipop into his mouth, he turns to lay down fully on the couch, stretching his back out with such leisure.
your eyes followed him as he disappeared past a corner, shaking your head in confusion. “ no clue. “
it was just one of the countless circumstances in which people had poked at the two of you for your not-so-platonic habits with one another, habits which, admittedly, hinted at something...more than friendship. more than a partnership. this was nothing new.
but of course, you pushed it all away, allowing the rumours and silly hashtags and fanmade edits and youtube compilations to completely ricochet off of you. however, the same couldn’t exactly be said for todoroki. shame.
you didn’t quite know why, but he always got so unexplainably tense about it whenever someone brought the topic up. he’d curl up his fists so aggressively it’d leave crescent marks the next day, rearrange his face into a scowl—it was clear that he hated it, joke or not. honestly, you didn’t have the guts to attempt to make them stop, for you knew that if you had, you just knew that the public would somehow find a way to turn it into “ proof “ that you were dating, all because he got so riled up and flustered. which was silly, really, since it was a perfectly normal human reaction to something like this.
though you can’t help but wonder if, perhaps, he did feel that way about you, and maybe that was the reason he—
no, no, what were you thinking? he couldn’t possibly...right? you were just partners. nothing more, nothing less.
but if he did think of you like that, would you want something more?
“ oh come on, just admit it! if not to the public, then to us at least. aren’t we friends? “
“ yeah, icy hot. i mean, seriously, have more guts— “
“ ...how many fucking times do i have to tell you, bakugou...we’re not a couple. denki, stop playing around. you’re egging him on. “ shoto’s harsh tone cuts sharply through the banter between denki and the overly-intense ashen blonde, bringing it to an abrupt end. it didn’t exactly last very long, though.
“ yeah, yeah. that’s what i said about that dumbass deku, and look where we are now. “ he rasps, a knowing smirk playing on his face as he pulls his now-blushing boyfriend close.
“ not everything is about love, bakugou. “ he smirks.
“ yeah, who knew you’d be the one to turn out to be such a romantic? “ denki laughs, earning a solid punch to his arm.
“ owww! that actually hurt. “ his lips jut out in a pout, rubbing over the blooming patch of light purple.
“ oh, shut up, idiot! “
“ you know what? fine. y/n? “
you pause, perfectly still and unmoving as the coldness of his eyes burned his unknown intent into you.
“ y-yeah? “
he strides over to you, appearing only inches away within the briefest of seconds. one of his hands quickly finds a home against your cheek, tilting it to look up at him. your heart pulsates at a nearly impossible rate.
“ kiss me. “
“ what? “
“ just this once. to prove that we don’t have feelings for each other. “ he says, rolling his eyes at denki and bakugou, who were futilely trying to cover their smirks.
heat rises to your cheeks, cauterizing them with an unfamiliar flame. “ oh! uh! i—sure.“
what other choice did you have? after all, you did want to prove to everyone that there really was nothing between you and shoto. or maybe, just maybe, you were also trying to prove it to yourself?
no, no. that couldn’t be. it couldn’t.
he wastes no time. his skin, cold and smooth, fingers like porcelain streams, grasp your chin with a fast-paced elegance which sends a prominent shudder down your back. his lips hover just above yours, and the tension buzzing between you is ridiculously electric. he’s so close, your heartbeat rings in your ears and his breath shallowly fans upon your face as he peers into your eyes with his own. you allow them to fall closed.
as if on cue, his lips meet yours with a gentle, albeit fairly aggressive peck. but as soon as they do, your chest spurns with the fibres of your heartstrings, embroidering them tightly into the knots of his own tangled past. you know what he said. you know what you said—it was all to prove that you didn’t feel anything for one another.
but then why did it feel so oddly...right?
he pulls away, and your lips suddenly feel empty, deserted. the electric thrum still prickles at your lips, wanting, no—needing, more. you hate how much your body craved him, how desperately you wanted for his arms around you again. there’s too much emotion, an overwhelming influx. it is near impossible to even articulate it, at least not in a way which could ever hope to properly encapsulate the undeniable magic of the moment. you were being so damn melancholic, and that was saying something, even for you.
when his lips leave yours, you cannot help but be frozen in your simple state of bliss, utterly dazed with hazy remnants of how annoyingly addicting it was. your eyes gloss over with a sense of want, sparkling with the same glitters his icy eyes met yours with. his hand remains on your cheek, but his touch softens against yours.
your silent stare prolongs for more than just the fleeting moment, as if you were subconsciously grabbing at it with invisible arms, reaching desperately to bring each other back. that was when it hit you; the blinding realization that you did, in fact, want this. want him. and yet, you couldn’t help but hesitate. what about him? did he want this? no, no, he couldn’t possibly. after all, this whole kiss situation was only because he wanted to prove that explosive idiot wrong, that there was nothing between you two but teamwork and good quirk compatibility.
your heart stings at the minor epiphany, the thoughts piercing at your head in an endless swirl of emotions. second-guessing yourself, wondering why you even cared whether or not he thought of you that way. or at least, how he didn’t think of you that way. the tiniest shine of a tear begins to coat your lashes when—
his lips crash against yours for a second time, his hand now trailing towards your scalp, weaving through the fibres as his lips danced upon yours. your guard, your hesitation fully melting away in his arms.
but alas, you made the mistake of allowing yourself to forget that people were watching too.
“ ha! i knew it! i fucking knew it! “ kaminari’s playful voice rings like the most annoying song ( in this moment, i mean come on, you loved the guy, but right now? not exactly helping your stance of “ we don’t see each other like that “ ) as his head peaks out from the halls.
instantly you break away, pulling from each other as your hand flies to clamp over your mouth, eyes bulging wide at what you had just done. you had just kissed shoto. in front of, well, practically everyone! since when did mina and kirishima even get here?!
“ shit. “ shoto mutters deeply, thrashing his hands into his two-toned hair in frustration.
“ shoto, i—i’m so sorry, i didn’t know they would— “
“ no, no. don’t apologize. it’s my fault. i...i shouldn’t have gone for a second ki— “
“ honestly, i think i would’ve been more mad at you if you haven’t. “
“ WHAT?! “ your little audience shrieked. your palms clasped right over your mouth after the admission, face burning with embarrassment. the words left you before you could even think them through. had you really just said that? in front of everyone? how carefree can you be?
you stare into the ground, focusing on literally anything but him.
“ hey. look at me. “
you refused.
“ y/n. “ his hand goes up to your chin, making you look up at him. the pout on your face is so plainly obvious, it makes his heart twitch in a slight pain. you could almost swear you heard mina squeal faintly at the boldness of his action, considering the predicament you two were currently stuck in.
“ what? “
“ i...i think i would’ve regretted it more if i hadn’t kissed you again. “
“ you—what? “
“ i...i didn’t want to pull away. “
“ holy shit. “
“ shut up bakugou! “
“ i wanted...i wanted it to last a little longer. “
“ jeez, and i thought i was bad at confessing my feelings. pft. this is just embarrassing to watch. “
“ same here. i mean you did ask midoriya out by yelling ‘ i love you, dumbass! ‘ from outside his dorm window. “
“ hey, idiot! we don’t talk about that! “
“ shhhh both of you! shut up! we are witnessing an important romantic moment here! “
“ i...seriously? “
“ seriously. and i—i don’t know what the hell this feeling....is. but i....i just— “
“ it’s okay. “ you shoot him a reassuring smile, the same kind you always did in the midst of battle, that comforting smile that let him know you had his back. you communicated with your eyes, though usually they were bloodshot with adrenaline and smudged with ash, there truly was no need for words. not with him.
“ y/n...i— “
“ awwwww aren’t they the cutest? now kiss again! “
“ mina. “ he shoots her a lightly cold stare.
“oh come on! let us have our fun, yeah, icy hot? “ bakugou slings his arm over kaminari’s shoulder, whose grin matches that of his blonde-haired counterpart.
“ i thought i told you not to call me— “
“ shoto. “
he immediately turns to you, slipping into serenity at the sound of your voice.
“ ah shit, here they go again. we get it, you’re a cute couple! “
“ mina, i told you. we’re not a co- “ his eyes snap to yours, lips parting in a hesitant pause.
“ not a what, icy hot? “ the smirk exuding of utter smugness upon bakugou’s face only spreads all the wider.
he allows his hands to fall, taking yours within his. there is a brief, yet definite moment of silence before he speaks again. “ i mean... “
your gaze is focused on the way his hands fully envelope yours, and the unexplainable, tingly feeling you’re getting from it all. despite that, you could still very well see mina and kaminari excitedly waving and bouncing in all sorts of directions, as if they were...cheering you on? it was almost as if they were more fired up about all this than you were.
keyword; almost.
“ shoto, i— “
and suddenly his composure and poise breaks, and all that’s left is the rare sight of shoto todoroki, stuttered in a blushing, shaky mess. “ i mean, i wouldn’t be opposed to it. not—not like i desperately want to or anything, but at the same time i—i just—fuck, why is this so har— “
you rise onto your tip toes, hands encircling his neck as you kiss him. what unknown spirit possessed you with the guts to make the first move, it was fully unbeknownst to you. but you weren’t complaining, no. not in the slightest.
“ HOLY SHIT?? “
“ my baby’s all grown up now— “
“ dumbass, they’re not your bab— “
“ they’re mine. “
“ i— “
“ that is, if you want to b— “
“ well no shit, dumbass! “ you jump into his arms, squealing as you squeeze him tight.
“ good. because...so do i. “
“ i told you! “
“ shut up idiot! “
“ hey, so now can we start a fan account for you two on instagram? i’m sure it’d totally blow up! “ mina squealed with a wink, holding up her phone, already halfway through the sign up process.
“ mina! “ everyone groaned in a laughter-filled unison.
so that was it, you supposed.
you did have feelings for each other.
279 notes · View notes
damn-stark · 3 years
Text
The Trouble ch.8
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A/N- tell me how you liked it!! The ending is coming soon.
Warning- ANGST, talks of loss and grief, ptsd, violence, blood, light fluff, SPOILIERS if you haven’t played the game.
Pairing- Jesse x fem!reader
(Let me know if you want to be tagged)
——
Here. Finally.
It took a long time, but you arrived.
Maybe you regretted it a little, feeling the sun burn your skin as it scorched down, but there was no turning back now. You’ve made it this far. Santa Barbara, and hopefully one step closer to reaching Ellie.
Albeit you knew you weren’t going to find anything on the abandoned boat that you came to. Everything here seemed to be untouched for a couple months, if this was Abby, she was long gone now.
“Has Ellie passed by here?” You couldn't help but wonder out loud whilst you stepped out of the cabin and walked off to jump off the boat—Is she even here?—you think to yourself.
Nevertheless You couldn’t stay out here in this damn blazing sun for too long, nor could you stay so below, you needed to get to higher ground. You could possibly find something there—your eyes lift to the house that overlooked the ocean behind you and getting there, or just getting higher was your goal. And it wasn’t a tough thing to do, the terrain was easy to get through, you just expected the neighborhood you ran into, Messa Bluff, to be tough. All neighborhoods were. Those not used anyway.
You pulled out your gun expecting to hear, or see any sort of infected roaming mindlessly in the streets, but as you walked towards the first house you saw, there was dead infected on the ground. And it could be an old body, but as your eyes roamed it’s ugly figure, you noticed the fresh blood that spilled from the wound on its head. Some of it was still pouring out of its corpse, so it was just killed.
“Hmm,” you sigh before you lift your eyes from its body and continue towards the house, noticing not just a few feet ahead another freshly killed infected—someone’s here.
Your eyes flicker up to the house and you just hoped it was Ellie.
*A FEW YEARS AGO*
“We actually have a girl around the same age as you,” Tommy directs to Ellie who sat by herself on the reading chair. “She should be coming from her classes soon.”
“Classes?” Joel questions. “You guys have a school?”
Maria nods her head. “For the younger kids we do, but y/n is learning to become a doctor.”
Ellie heard them talk but she could hardly care, sure she might want friends if staying here was for the long haul, she didn’t want to be alone cooped up in her room, but she hardly cared to meet someone at the moment. She was bored, hungry and frustrated, but perhaps that was the hunger. All she wanted to do was go to her room and see what she could decorate it with.
Yet Joel stayed in his brother's house talking about random things that came up, but Ellie knew that he was waiting for you, the girl Tommy and Maria had mentioned, so she could meet you. But you surely took your time to get to your house, and once you did, you rushed in unaware of the guests in your living room. Albeit Ellie had noticed you first, she caught your muddy shoes in your hand that you tried to hide behind you, she noticed the urgency and panic in your face that she had seen on other people many times. She couldn’t help but wonder what you had done in your nursing classes to have ended with your shoes caked in mud, and for your first instinct once you got to your house was to dart to your room without as much as a glance at the obvious chatter in your living room.
And luckily for you, you got stopped before you could reach the stairs. “Hey, Y/N, wait up.” Maria called out after your fleeting figure.
“Yes?” You ask as you poke your head past the wall, noticing in that instant an older man with hair a deep grey color, and visible scars on his face that only made him appear intimidating and rugged; he also looked familiar, but you’ve never seen him in your life—“oh.” You mouth before your eyes flicker over to a red-headed girl slouched on the reading chair, her green eyes brightened by the sunlight kissing her face while she obviously studied your face. She also looked intimidating, but not as much as the man, and one thing you couldn’t help but notice was that she looked young. Which, you didn’t know if it was a good or bad thing, yet.
“Come over here and introduce yourself,” Tommy waved you over.
You sigh, but don’t argue as to not look suspicious, instead you throw your backpack on the stairs and regretfully put your shoes on top of it, making sure to cover them with your coat before you walk towards the living room.
“Hello,” you greet the man and the girl still on the couch with a faint smile. “I’m y/n.”
“Y/N, this is my brother Joel.” Tommy introduced him as he fell by your side, the new information letting you realIze that, that’s why the man looked familiar, he looked like Tommy.
“Hello.” He simply said in a husky voice that was much deeper than Tommy’s. “Tommy,” he continued as he looked up at his brother beside you. “You didn’t tell me you had a daughter.”
“No,” Tommy chuckled, “she’s not my biological daughter. She’s my adopted daughter.”
Joel nods and then looks back to the girl, motioning her to get up with his hand. She seemed hesitant, but she picked herself up and stood behind him, making Joel step back so he could push her forward and introduce her. “Ah, this is Ellie, and she’s just around your age.”
“Really?” You question as you blink and meet her gaze. “That’s cool.” There's an awkward silence after, with neither of you knowing what to say or do, but Maria seemed to have a good suggestion that only made things more awkward.
“Why don’t you take her up to your room.”
You weren’t children to show each other your toys, but you did need to hide your shoes before either of them saw—“okay,” you say in a feigned calm tone before you walk back and point your head towards the direction of the stairs. “Come on, it’s upstairs.”
Ellie steps forward and you miss the glare she shot Joel before she slowly followed after you, managing to catch you snatch your shoes and other things from the stairs before you ran up and waited for her at the top. Once Ellie reached the top you guided her to your room at the end of the hall and made sure to swiftly throw your shoes in the bathroom, and shut that door.
“So,” you decide to break the tension. “How old are you?”
“Uh, fifteen.” Ellie answers whilst her eyes wander around your nicely decorated room. “You? I mean they say you're the same age as me, but I don’t believe them. I think they’ll say that just to force you to befriend me.”
You scoff lightheartedly and turn to face her once you’re stopped by your bed. “I’m sixteen. I just turned sixteen like a day ago.” You sit on the edge of your bed and catch Ellie focused on the vinyl records all neatly tucked in the shelves, she walks towards the shelf and her lips tugged to a small smile.
“Are these all yours?” She asked excitedly as she looked at you.
“Yeah,” you nod, “I’ve collected some along the years, and my grandpa gave me the rest.”
Ellie’s eyes return to the vinyls to brush her thin fingers over the backs, stopping as she catches sight of a certain album that caught her attention. “Do you have anywhere to play them? Or I mean do they work?”
You drag yourself off the bed to walk to your desk and open the wooden record player. “You can put one on.” You smile as you step back to make room. “To try it out.”
“Are you being fucking for real?” She queried as her eyes met your eyes and you caught a gentle sparkle in them.
“Yeah,” you nod. “Go.”
Ellie doesn’t hesitate to bring an album by “The Clash” with her as she walks to stand by your side, pulling out the vinyl from its sleeve and carefully placing the record where it went. She then set it up and you both waited, hearing silence for a brief second before the sound of an electric guitar began to play, and seconds later a voice began to sing and you recognized the song “Should I Stay or Should I go’ was playing. One of your favorite songs. And it seemed to be hers too because she soon turned up the volume and began to bop her head to the beat, as well as tap her foot as her hands went into her coat pocket and her smile turned to a grin.
You then followed by doing the same head movements as the song played and completely broke the tension between you both. And perhaps it was such a small moment, a small change, but the hostility was gone, neither of you were strangers anymore, but Instead immediate friends.
“Can I ask you,” Ellie spoke up while the song played. “What happened in your medical classes that got your shoes dirty?”
Your eyes widen and you blink to meet her curious gaze, but you don’t hide the truth from her. You smirk instead and reveal the truth. “Yeah, there was no class today. I snuck out with my friends. Just don’t tell Tommy, or Maria.”
Ellie scoffs, and her lips tug to a smirk. “Your secret is safe with me.”
You grin and step back to walk towards your shelf. “Wanna listen to more music?”
“Hell yeah,” Ellie grins.
——
The trail of dead infected bodies led down a small hill that you cautiously followed, even if you weren’t sure who had just killed these infected. For all you knew it could be those people called the Rattlers, that you read about on some letter in one of the empty houses, even if you hoped it wasn’t, the possibility was that it was them. And you could still run, turn back and return home, but you needed to check if it was Ellie first. You couldn’t leave her behind.
So you needed to continue following the path. And as you did. you ended up finding thick green shrubbery blocking the path forward, with the trail of bodies ending a few steps back, so whoever had left it went forward. But when you let your eyes scan the area, you see that an RV and a truck were also blocking the path.
“Hmm.” You slowly walk forward and see a large enough gap between both trucks where you could squeeze through. You were hesitant and anxious in doing so because your peripheral view was limited since you couldn't see much past the truck's gap, but, it was the only way through—fuck—you hold your breath and have your hand tightened around your gun as you slowly walk through.
Once you’re miraculously through and don’t get tackled or suddenly bit, you exhale deeply and feel a wave of relief wash over you, but before the feelings could set in your bones you instantly jump back at the sight of a clicker hanging upside down from its leg. “What the fuck,” you gasp as you clutch onto your chest with your unoccupied hand. The clicker begins to click it’s jaw and manages to push its body forward in attempts to try and get any piece of flesh it could sink its teeth into, but you only stepped back from its reaching hands and then felt yourself bump into something else.
There was no noise, or movement that you could hear behind you, but you still swiftly turned around, only to see the girl you had been looking for. “What the shit…Ellie?!” You gasp again as you feel your whole body grow stiff. You narrow your eyes on her, and besides noticing that she was upside down, you couldn’t help but notice fresh blood dripping down her red, sunburnt face, half of her shirt drenched in the same thick liquid, and her cheeks looked more sunk in than before.
The first thing that should’ve run through your mind was to help her, but your mind kept fixating on wanting to know if she was real, or just some weird hallucination. She looked real, but was she? You snapped from your stupor and stepped forward, reaching out your hand to feel the warmth of her cheeks under our fingertips; she felt real. Next you proceeded to lean in and press your ear close to her lips to hear her slow breaths taken because she was passed out due to the blood that ran to her head because she was upside down. So the answer was that she was actually here, hanging upside down from a tree.
There was an answer as to why she ended up as she was, thus leaving you finally to act out on your plan to help her off the tree. However, when you reached the rope that was tied around a large rock, you caught the sound of footsteps behind you. Thinking it was infected you turn around to get ready to shoot them, but then you see that it was something much worse.
“Drop your weapon and put your hands up, and this might just go easy for you.” A man much shorter than his ponytail wearing companion spoke to you with a certain, annoying cockiness expressed on his face.
You quickly glance at the rope just inches beside you, and then your eyes fall on the switchblade just under Ellie. You think of dropping your gun and then running to get it, but they’d shoot you, or hurt you some other way before you could do damage, so instead you stayed put and did as he said whilst you tried to talk them out of whatever sick plan was on their mind. “Please, just let us go, we'll be on our way out. We just got lost and my friend got caught in this trap.”
The short man approaches you with a smirk and his gun points at you while his companion stood behind him with his weapon on the ready. “We can help you find a way out.” The short man assured you even if it was a lie that you weren’t aware of. “But you have to follow our rules since you’re in our city.” He reaches for your arm, yet as he tries to grab it you kick him back and pull out your gun hidden behind you. You shoot at him, but end up missing after the older looking man he was with shoves you to the floor and steps on your hand until you let the gun go.
“Take her.” The older man instructed, “I’ll take this live one tied up.”
You quickly flip over and reach for a dagger hidden in your waistline, but the guy pulls you up and in a harsh movement twists your arms to your back, and pulls you closer to his chest. “Don’t try anything,” he sneered in the ear. “Or I’ll shoot your friend and then you.”
“Fuck—”
“Abby….” Ellie unknowingly interrupts you, “I found….”
“This bitch is fucked.” The guy holding you remarks about Ellie.
You scoff and squirm in his hold, but he only presses a gun to the back of your head and turns you so you could watch his friend drop Ellie to the ground from where she was hanging, causing her to groan out in pain as she landed on her wounded side. “Ellie!” You bellow, seeing her open her eyes to see the person who had called her name.
It took her a moment to recognize you, to figure out that you were real, but once she did, she could only continue to groan out in the blinding pain she felt shoot out from her bleeding wound.
“We’ll be lucky if she even lasts us a month.” The same guy kept talking, this time however, his comment made your eyes widen out of fear. “Can we please just please just say we’re done for the day?” He continued to ask as he watched the other man untie Ellie.
“Yeah,” the guy agreed whilst he kicked Ellie forward. “I’m going to get that thing down, and let me reset the traps.”
Right! The clicker hanging from the tree—the corner of your lips tug to a smirk and using all the strength you could muster after a long day, you use your legs to throw yourself back, causing the man that had you captive to stumble back towards the clicker who quickly lunged forward in means to bite him.
Nonetheless he managed to get out of the way before the clicker could bite any part of him.
“It get you?!” The friend asked in a panicked voice and with his gun pointing at the guy behind you, who still surprisingly had you in his hold.
The man shakes his head, “No, I’m good.” He then digs his nails in your skin and grimaces after what happened. “You bitch,” He proceeds to also finally tie your hands with some zip tie. “You’re gonna pay for that.”
You snort and just as you’re going to snap back, Ellie beats you to it and begins to laugh. You can’t lie it creeped you out that she did laugh since she was badly wounded, but you let it be, and well it annoyed the guy.
“Something funny?”
“Looks like you shit your pants,” Ellie counters while she struggles to push herself off the ground.
The guy shakes his head and whispers in an annoyed tone. “What you say?”
“What a little bitch.” Ellie continues smugly.
“Oh, you like funny huh?” The guy snaps before he grabs your arm again, cuts off the zip tie and drags you towards the clicker. “Watch this.” He shoves you forward and the clicker begins to reach for you, clicking its teeth as the sound makes it go crazy. You struggle in his hold, and dig your heels into the ground to make it difficult for him to continue pushing you forward, but he’s stronger than you and manages to tear your arm from where it was stiffened to your side to push it towards the clicker's mouth.
“You fucking,” you strain to say whilst you squirm and try to throw your elbow, or foot back. “Asshole. Let me go. Stop!”
“Come on,” the other man protests, “we don’t need this.”
“No, man,” the young man responded amusingly. “They’re fucked up anyway.” He continues pushing your arm towards the clickers teeth until the point you could feel the heat of its mouth on your skin. It was terrifying and heart clenching, your breath became heavy and quick and Ellie wanted to stop him, but she was struggling to get up. You kept trying to fall back, or really just do anything, and miraculously you did manage to get the upper hand after an instant of throbbing pain shot throughout your arm.
You didn’t pay much mind to the pain and passed it off as the man digging his nails in your skin and pressing his rough fingers on your arm, before you ducked and used your strength and weight to swing him to the side and throw the man towards the clicker's arms and jaw. After that he let you go and his friend tried to shoot you, but Ellie quickly grabbed the gun you dropped and shot him first, causing him to fall down on his ass.
“Fuck,” you breathe out as you move away from the clicker and catch your breath on the ground, catching Ellie snatch the guys rifle off the floor and storm towards the other man in means to shoot him.
“Wait! Wait! You said Abby! You’re looking for an Abby right?” The man bellowed as he threw his hands out, managing to make Ellie stop before him. “We picked one up a couple months ago.”
“Yeah sure.” Ellie said, stepping forward.
“Big girl!” The man pants, “blonde. Arms like mine.” He motions, “she had a scrawny kid with cuts by his mouth.”
Your attention focuses on the man and your eyes narrow as your mind pulls out flashing memories of who he was talking about. For a brief second you see and hear the memory of Abby killing…Jesse play out in your head and it hurts far worse than your arm does.
“Yeah, that’s her.” The man says once he notices the realization on yours and Ellie’s faces. “You let me go. I’ll tell you where she is.”
“Talk.” Ellie deadpanned.
“She’s in a holding cell in our camp,” the man obliged.
“Where is that?” Ellie interrogated him further.
The man points past her and continues. “Head up that way til you hit the railroad track. That’ll lead you to a resort. We keep em in the tall, round building.” He groans and Ellie looks back to where he pointed to for a second before looking back at him—“I swear.” Before he could add more Ellie lifts her gun and shoots him once before he goes limp like his friend.
Finally leaving Ellie and you alone.
However the reunion wasn’t a happy one. After Ellie could tear her eyes from the man laying on the floor, she turned to you with a serious expression that expressed no warmth. “What are you doing here, y/n?” She asked bluntly.
You push yourself up to your feet and can’t help but glance at her wound on her side as you answer her. “I came after you.”
Ellie walks past you to collect her switchblade off the ground, but stops as she’s crouched down, turning her head to look at you over her shoulder. “Why? Who told you I left?”
“Dina, told me. After I went for a visit.” You say as you walk and grab a rifle from the man Ellie had killed.
There's a short silence while Ellie stands up, but she’s quick to fill it with the same question. This time in a more demanding tone. “Why are you here?”
“Because.” You stand up and turn to face her, ignoring the pain your arm was under. It felt as if someone was pressing a hot iron on it. “My friends' problems are my problems.”
Ellie’s green eyes quickly snap up to meet your own eyes, and you notice a sadness flicker within them while her lips twitch to almost express a frown, but she holds back and instead focuses on her wound at her side. “Did you come to take me home? Convince me not to kill Abby?” She lifts her shirt and a soft hiss leaves her lips. “Well then let me tell you that you’ve come in vain. She killed Joel, I’m only finishing what she started.”
You scoff. “What she started?!” You storm towards her but she keeps her eyes on her wound. “Ellie, you went after her already. You killed all the people that were with her and it almost took Dina, Tommy and you out with them. The only reason,” you pause when you don’t notice her looking up at you. You crouch down to be at her level. “Look at me.”
Said girl blinks a few times to fight the tears that welled in her eyes before slowly dragging her eyes up to meet your gaze.
“The only reason,” you continue, “neither of you died was because she spared your life. She wasn’t going to bother you anymore, and you came after her. You left your family to come after someone who most likely has not thought of you since she left Seattle.”
Ellie shakes her head. “It’s not that easy to forget what she did!” She stands to her feet and stands just a few inches away. “I can’t sleep, I see him all the time. I see that day, I see her.” She cries. “I need to do this. It’s the only way I will be able to live in peace. I need to do this for….him.” She can’t even muster the strength to say his name, or mention her pain without her voice breaking. Tears wanted to slip past her eyes, but she was strong enough to hold them back for now.
“And what?” You counter with tears of your own while you step forward. “Don’t you think I see Jesse? Don’t you think Jesse’s death hurts me too?” You sniffle and swipe tears off your cheeks. “I see him all time. And not with good memories, but his body after he was shot. It haunts me, even when I’m awake. And I want it to stop.” Your voice quivers. “But even I know this is wrong. Stop this and come home before something happens to you. You know Joel wouldn’t have wanted you to come if it meant risking your life. So come home Ellie, please.”
Ellie steps back and her gaze holds yours for a moment whilst tears roll down the curve of her cheeks this time. She parts her lips to argue, to try and convince you to follow her plan, but she knew you more than anyone, no matter the pain you were enduring after losing the man you loved, you’d never fall as low as she thought she had fallen. She couldn't ask you to stay.
“Just leave, y/n.” Ellie mumbled as she shoved past you.
You turn sharply on your heels and stay put with determination in your own plan. “No. Not if you’re not coming with me.” Your lips twitch.” Wherever you go, I go.”
A sigh leaves Ellie’s lip and with some hesitation she turns with a comment ready to be shot out, but before she could speak, her eyes fall on your arm and they go wide with horror. “Y/N.” She mutters before she rushes towards you and grabs your arm, twisting it a bit and gasping sharply. “You’re….” She pauses and you follow her line of vision down to your arm, instantly feeling your heart sink to your stomach, and feeling all sound cease to exist as you catch the bite mark on your arm. “…bit.”
.
.
.
.
Tagged- @protect-lev, @expecto-nox @vintage-and-hypnotic , @kokomaesadie @0j-b0 @itsyellow @minheoly @traceylader
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sporadiclilbook · 4 years
Text
Songbird
Yan!Childe x Singer/Dancer!Khaenri'ahn! reader
Proof-read by: @choquackette
a/n: in a way, does this count as a songfic :D? Also I'm gonna use Lost in Thoughts All Alone for this. And to be fair you're pretty much like Shigure/Azura from fates in this
TW: Kidnapping
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You are the ocean's gray waves
Destined to seek life beyond the shore
Just out reach
Your voice rang out through the crowd who was listening. Your Hydro Vision glowed as you made particles of water float around you. It created an illusion that made them looked like it was sparkling. It was mesmerising. To Childe, it amazed him how you used it so beautifully for a show. Unlike his more....bloodthirsty uses of his. To think a Vision can do something so graceful and morbid at the same time.
Of course he had his Electro Delusion but this is the Vision we're talking about. He uses it as a weapon while you used it for entertainment. To be honest, he never thought he'd see something like this. It was all thanks to a mission he has to do. Tailing a guy who was in debt to the Fatui and all. Childe think he was a fool. Instead of trying to make his business better, he wastes it on shows like these. But now that he sees you, he understand why. Your exotic appearance was a sight to behold. The only known person to have the same eyes as you was that Favonius Cavalry Captain and he only showed one eye. One already can make one look intriguing but having both made you look ethereal.
Yet the water ever change
Flowing like time
The path is yours to climb
Your dance was graceful, fluid movements that did flow like water. Childe think you could've been a good sword fighter if you were able to incorporate these movements into sword fighting. But for now he'll enjoy your voice and dancing. There's just something about it he loved so much. Sure fighting is always the one he loves but there's just something about you that he's attracted to. Was it your appearance? Vocals? Movements? Or those pupils of yours? He thinks it's quite silly, he doesn't even know who you are and yet......
A burdened heart
Sinks into the ground
Here he is, eager to look for you after this whole mission thing. If there's one thing he knows, is to not judge someone's prowess by appearance. Take the traveler for example. They have a petite form and yet they were able to defeat his Foul Legacy form! Who knows what you might have in store for him? Just the thought of you actually being able to fight makes him feel giddy.
Alas, all he can do for now is listen to your song. With that said, he didn't forget his mission. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw his target. The man was also in awe of looking at you. Too in awe of noticing his presence that is. He'll get right back to him when your show's over.
A veil falls away without a sound
Not day nor night
Wrong nor right
For truth and peace, you'll fight
He wondered if his siblings would love your singing. Sleeping to a lullaby sounded like a nice idea to him. Why he even thought of that was a mystery to him. Is this what they called love at first sight? He just can't help but wished to woken up by your voice that will roll out his name softly in the morning.
Sing with me a song
Of silence and blood
The rain falls, but can't wash away the mud
Within my ancient heart dwells
Madness and pride
Can't no one hear my cry?
The song ended and the crowd threw a round applause. You bowed and left the stage immediately. Childe, who hasn't forgot his mission, quickly trailed the guy he was after outsidd. "Ah! Hello there Mr. Wei Xing! I reckon you know who I am yes?" And so from there, he scared the poor man to the death with threats and grim reminder of the debt he owed. But Childe was feeling a bit merciful today "Tell you what I'll give you some more time on one condition." Wei Xing, his target, was confused. The Fatui giving a bit of leverage? Still, he would be an idiot to refuse "And that condition is....?"
Childe chuckled at his quick response. It's natural after all. All of his intimidation must have triggered his survival instincts. "Just answer me this. Who was that singer with a Hydro Vision?" Wei Xing was baffled. That's all he wanted? "A-as far as I know, t-their name is (Y/N). They're a performer that was passing by Liyue to gain more popularity across Teyvat." Childe hummed as he hears it. 'A travelling performer huh? Looks like I'll have to act quick if I want to meet them' There was moment of silence before he asked another question "When are they leaving?" "I-in a few days"
Childe let him go and as promised gave him more time for him to pay his debt. Should he fails again to do so.....he'll be history. He only had a few days to meet and talk to you so he has to be quick. Thankfully being a Fatui Harbinger does have it perks. One of those perks being having informants that can collect informations for you. And since this is no top secret info, it was quite easy to find out where you were staying and exactly how many days before you were gone.
As he wait for you at the road that led guests from Wangshu Inn to Liyue, he thought of what you might say. Maybe you'll recognise him right away? Or perhaps you were too innocent to notice the horrors of the Fatui. As he notices your figure walking on the horizon, he prepared to greet you casually. But then he was perplexed by your outfit. It seemed less travelling performer and more of a......fighter? Interesting. He drops the idea of greeting you and opted to follow your path instead.
He followed you until you reached a domain that was near one of the ruins. You stood in front of the entrance as he awaits your next move, intentionally letting his presence seep out. "You're not doing that much of a great job to hide yourself, Fatui. Or is it intentional?" Childe walks out from the spot he was hiding in and approached you slowly while saying "Well, isn't this a surprise? I just happened to be passing b-" His actions stopped midway as your pointed a spear at him. "Not a step closer, what do you want?"
Your starred pupils were sharped and narrowed. It held an intense emotion in it. Childe held up his hands in some sort of mock surrender and laughed a bit "Hey now! There's no need to get aggressive, is there? I was just curious why someone like you is doing here. Not exactly a good place to perform isn't it?"
"That's none of your business."
"Are you gonna go inside this domain?"
"...."
"If so, can I follow?"
"No."
"Please?"
"I said no."
"I'm very good at fighting you know. It'll be a shame if someone like you gets inju--"
Your spear was closer to him now. Threatening to slice him open any minute you wanted to. It didn't faze him at all. In fact it made him thrilled. He knew there was something about you that was enchanting and perhaps this was it. An unrelenting fighting spirit. In a blink of an eye, he immediately summoned his hydro javelin and parried your spear. You backed away in surprise but kept your guard up.
"Listen I have no time for you Fatui. Leave me be. I have more important matters to attend to." Childe just gave a fox-like grin at your attempt to intimidate him. "Is that so? Like what exactly?" You rolled your eyes at him. He was getting annoying for sure. "Like I said, none of your business." It looks like you might have to halt your plans for tonight. The Abyss Order can wait. "So, what are you gonna do little star?" Without warning you immediately engulfed yourself in a torrent of water and disappears. Childe was shocked when he sees it but still grinned. If you wanted to be a challenge then so be it. If he can't bother you during your 'missions' then he'll bother you during the day.
And that is exactly what he did.
For two days straight he kept trying to talk with you whenever you were out visiting the Liyue Harbour. At first you tolerated him but now he was insufferable. You were glad you were leaving as soon as possible next day but Childe was not having any of that. In just the span of two days his little curiosity had turned into a tsunami of obsession. Your expressions and reactions not to mention the little heart warming moments he saw you cheering up some of the kids in Liyue. He wants to know even more of you.
And precisely why he is fighting you right now.
As he has deducted, your move was as graceful as your dance. Your fighting style was as unique as your eyes. Something he has never seen before. You dodged his flurry of arrows, panting while doing so. How long has he fought you? It felt like an eternity. You tried to dash to him and deliver a swift strike but him and his stupid shield won't let you. You jumped back just in time before he strike his hydro swords at you. You can't even get an elemental advantage here, you had to mostly rely on your weapon.
"Well (Y/N), it's been a fun fight really. But why don't you surrender now? You're tired aren't you? I promise things will go smoothly if you just give up."
You didn't want to. There's no way you'll give up. What does he wants with you anyway? You only stared down at him in silence, refusing to answer. "Ah, stubborn now aren't we? I guess I'll have to use a little force...." He activated his Delusion and immediately dashed towards you, giving you no time to react. The electricity made you groan in pain. You use your spear as a stabiliser from falling to the ground but you were running out of energy at this point.
Before you could fall, Childe took a hold of your body. "See? It's not that hard to give up." You wanted to mutter a remark but darkness shrouded your vision before you fainted. You woke up in an unfamiliar room. Certainly not Liyue's architecture nor your homeland's. Your first thought was to look for an escape.
The door was locked.
Windows were barred.
The wardrobe had the clothes you brought with you across Teyvat along with some new ones.
There was a chain at your leg that's long enough to get you to the bathroom.
Your Vision and weapon was missing.
You waited in silence, pondering what to do. You certainly can't escape like this. But then you heard the door open. And as expected it was him. "Did you had a good sleep? You were knocked out for a while there." You scowled at him "Drop the act, where am I?" Childe hummed before answering "You're in Snezhnaya of course! Where else would I bring you? I'm quite lucky to be able to bring you here and visit my siblings! Say would you like to visi--" "Why would I do that?"
His grin dropped and his eyes stared at you. His eyes was....hollow...empty...devoid of any humanity in them. He walked towards you and you instinctively stepped back. He had you trapped against a wall. He lifted up your chin and let out a small but terrifying smile "Well, because your fate is in my hands. There's nothing you can do now, is there? But I'll forgive your behaviour for now.....if you sing that is."
You hated it. You hated the fact he was right. So you had no choice but to stay obedient and be his 'little songbird' until you found a window of opportunity. He lets go of your chin and sat down on a chair. With a heavy heart, you opened your mouth to sing.
You are the ocean's gray waves
Destined to seek life beyond the shore
Just out of reach
Childe smiled as you sing. He's sure you'll come around and fall in love with him soon enough.
Yet the water ever change
Flowing like time
The path is yours to climb
Shame that you can't meet his family yet. They would've love you. He can't wait for that day to arrive though. He can't help but feel joy. His little songbird, all his and no one else.
You are the ocean's gray waves.
229 notes · View notes
feralthoughtdump · 3 years
Text
Arsonist’s Lullaby
Part One: Kiss With A Fist
Part Two: Only Angel
Bucky and his Angel’s relationship grow closer. 
Word Count: 6.8K
CW: violence, Bucky and his nightmares, John Walker being an ass, a little bit of fluff, smut, brief shower sex, Bucky steps on the reader with his boots, spitting, choking, spanking, Bucky using his metal arm, crying, FATWS ep. 3&4 spoilers
The cold air of the cargo container was strange, given that they were in a southeast Asian island. It sent a chill down Angel’s spine. Like something would go very wrong. They survey the empty space, searching for Nagel.
Sharon was certain Nagel was here, but there was no sight of him.
But Angel could hear the slight vibrations of music coming from… somewhere. 
She approaches the back of the container and feels around the rough metal wall. 
“Hey, I think he may be in here.” She beckons them over. 
Pressing a gloved hand onto the metal, she pushed, revealing a small laboratory in front of them. 
“You three go ahead.” She mutters. “I’ll keep an eye out with Sharon.”
Before they can say anything, she strides out of the container.
“You don’t need to worry about them.” Sharon crosses her arms as the door closes. “I know them well. They can hold their own.” 
“Oh, I know.” Angel chuckles. 
“Bucky likes to call you Angel, huh. Seems like you two bonded pretty quickly.”
She gives Sharon a humored look as they stroll around the dock.
“I thought psychopaths couldn’t form bonds.”
“You know I didn’t mean it.”
Their eyes dart all over the place, looking for any oncoming bounty hunters. 
“How’d you get my photo anyways?” 
“Heavy analysis of CCTV footage, a few phone calls, and a lot of digging. The photo was shit quality, but it was enough for me to go off of.”
“Was it enough to catch me?”
“I guess so. Then Zemo blew up the UN so we tabled the case.”
“Interesting. Maybe that UN bombing was a blessing in disguise. Saved me a life sentence in a high-security prison.”
They turned a corner.
“You wouldn’t have gone to jail. MI6 would’ve given you a job instead.” 
“Hmph. I’d rather die than be a servant.”
From the corner of her eye, Angel spots a passing black shadow. 
“Guys,” she presses a finger onto her earpiece. “Someone’s here.” 
A gunshot rings out from the container and the hairs on the back of her neck stand. Sharon gives her a knowing look and they turn the safety off of their guns. 
“Here.” Angel whispers, handing Sharon a knife. “It’ll come in handy.” 
Three bounty hunters transverse on them and they open fire, taking them down one by one. 
“We don’t have much time, hurry up!” Sharon yells into the earpiece. 
A bounty hunter wraps their arms around Angel and she grabs a knife, jamming it into their arm. 
Adrenaline floods her system, dialing her senses up to ten. A swift roundhouse kick sends another hunter tumbling to the ground. 
From behind her, she hears Sam and Bucky yelling and she runs towards them. 
“It’s in every action movie!” She hears Sam yell.
If her life wasn’t on the line, she would’ve laughed. 
“You okay?” She pants.
“No! We’re not!” Sam yells. “Zemo shot Nagel!”
“What? Where is he?”
Her question was answered when a container set fire and exploded. She spots Zemo standing atop another, donning a purple mask. Before she can point him out, he sprints away. 
“Come on, let’s get out of here.” 
Gunshots ring from her right and Bucky wraps a protective arm around her. In her peripheral she sees a bounty hunter riding towards her on a motorcycle, guns blazing. She quickly wriggles out of Bucky’s grasp and sends a knife into the tire, throwing the hunter off of the vehicle and into the fire. 
“Good aim.” He says, mouth agape in surprise.
“You just threw that dude into a fire!” Sam exclaims.
“Yeah, well, he was going to kill us.” 
 They continue to run through the maze of crates, turning corner after corner, dodging bullet after bullet.
As much as he hates to admit it, the sight of Angel in action, when her violence wasn’t directed towards him, sends a rush through his system. 
Zemo speeds towards them in a convertible, signaling them to get in. Sam jumps in the passenger seat while Bucky and Angel sit in the back. 
Her pupils are blown wide and Bucky swears he can feel the electricity radiating off of her. Without stopping to calm down, he grabs her face in his hand and presses a passionate kiss on her lips.
His heart skips a beat when she kisses him back, and in the corner of his eye, he spots Sharon giving either him or Angel, a thumbs up.
… 
Bucky makes it a habit to call her Angel all the time. He likes the way it slips off his tongue. He likes the way her eyes seem to glimmer when he calls her that. It’s as if the more he calls her Angel, she seems to glow more and more. 
He calls her Angel when they board the jet on the way to Latvia.
He calls her Angel when she sits down to change the gauze on her thigh.
He calls her Angel when they get to the Riga safe house. 
The more time he spends with her, the more he notices the little things about her. He notices how her tongue sticks out a little when she does her eye makeup.
He notices how her head would bop along to music in her earbuds
He notices how she’ll curl up on the couch, tucking her knees close to her body, while she sketches.
He notices how she’ll mutter curses in different languages. Mandarin, French, Russian, Spanish just to name a few. 
He notices how she took off her jewelry when she showers with the exception of a gold chain. A gold chain with a dangling pendant. A pendant of a little angel.
He notices how she uses apple cinnamon body wash. It made her smell warm. It made her smell like home. 
She gets along with Sam. Even Zemo. 
She talks about philosophy with Zemo and when she converses with Sam, they talk about music.
She’s a force to be reckoned with. Fiery. Just like Selby had said. A firebird. 
And despite her cool, hardened front, there was a gentleness to her.
The jet had touched down in Latvia late and night and they collectively decided to get a good night’s rest before finding Karli. 
He had woken up from a nightmare. Reliving the memory of killing Yori’s son. 
He didn’t know what compelled him to do it, but he padded over to Angel, reading Anna Karenina. Glasses perched on her nose, hair loose and resting past her shoulders. 
She looks up at him.
“Nightmare?”
Bucky nods, tears pricking are his eyes.
She places the book on the floor and stretches out on the couch.
“Come here.” She whispers arms open wider
She let him lay his head on her chest, nose pressed against her sternum. With gentle hands, she runs her fingers through his hair, slowing his rapid heartbeat. 
The serum had made his hearing sharper and from his position between her breasts, he could hear the soft thumping of her heart. It calmed him. 
“Can you sing to me?” He mumbles.
The hand playing with his hair stops.
“Sing to you?” She asks.
“Mhm.”
“I-“ she pauses “I don’t really-“
“Please.” He begs. 
She’s quiet, just calmly stroking his hair, then she sighs.
“What do you want me to sing?”
“Anything. Just… please, I want you to sing for me.”
She ponders for a moment before she parts her lips, voice shaky and quiet. 
When I was a child, I heard voices
Some would sing and some would scream
You soon find you have few choices
I learned the voices died with me
He closes his eyes and noses at her sternum. 
When I was a child, I'd sit for hours
Staring into open flame
Something in it had a power
Could barely tear my eyes away
The song is unfamiliar. He didn’t listen to music all that much anymore. And even when he listens to music, it was mostly from the 40s.
All you have is your fire
And the place you need to reach 
Don't you ever tame your demons
But always keep 'em on a leash
Her voice, still soft and quiet, is haunting. The way it wraps around the lyrics, warms his heart. He breathes in the smell of her apple cinnamon body wash. 
When I was 16, my senses fooled me
Thought gasoline was on my clothes
I knew that something would always rule me
I knew the scent was mine alone
He loves the way he can feel her chest move up and down. The way her voice sounds so rich with his ear pressed against her chest, the music echoing within her ribs.
All you have is your fire
And the place you need to reach
Don't you ever tame your demons 
But always keep 'em on a leash
He reaches his hand to play with the angel pendant on her necklace. Finger running over the grooves. 
When I was a man I thought it ended
When I knew love's perfect ache
But my peace has always depended
On all the ashes in my wake
As he drifts off to sleep, he can hear the last lines of the song lingering on her lips. The images from war. The torture he endured, the people he’s killed, the amends he has yet to make, all temporarily fade from his mind. 
All you have is your fire
And the place you need to reach
Don't you ever tame your demons
But always keep 'em on a leash
And for the first time since Steve left, Bucky was able to sleep without disturbance.
… 
“You have a lovely voice.” 
Angel was pulled from her sleep when she hears Zemo’s voice. 
She glares at him and places a finger on her lips, shushing him. Bucky was still lying on top of her, still asleep and she didn’t want to wake him. 
“My apologies.” He smiles. 
“Were you watching us last night?” She interrogates quietly. 
“No, but I do have a keen sense of hearing. I heard you singing to James.” 
She turns her head to meet his eyes. 
“He had a nightmare. It was the least I could do for him.” 
“Understandable.” He nods. “My son used to have nightmares and my wife’s voice was the only thing that could put him to sleep.” 
“I’m sorry.” She mumbles sympathetically. “About your family, I mean. I know you lost them a while ago.” 
Her hand combs through Bucky’s hair. 
“I understand how vengeance and anger overtook you. You needed your revenge. But don’t hurt him.”
“Hurt who? James?”
“Yes.” Her voice darkens. “If you lay a finger on him, I won’t hesitate to bury you.”
Zemo sighs. 
“I have no intention of harming him. I see the way you look at him. It’s the same look I used to give my wife. You care for him dearly and given your line of work, I know you’d do anything to avenge the people who harm the ones you love.” He walks towards her and offers her a cookie. Angel takes it with a wary hand. 
“You’ve got anything else you want to say?”
“I do have a question about that song. I knew that something would always rule me.” He quotes. “Was that about yourself, or James?” 
She narrows her eyes. 
“It was just a song.” 
“Yet it implies that something will always have power, control, over the songwriter.” He tilts his head. 
“What are you implying, Baron?”
“It’s not an implication. It’s an observation. You two share a common trait. For James, it’s his past. His time as the Winter Soldier looms over him. As for you, you seem to have this, how do I say it, a compulsion to kill. It will always stick to you.”
“Baron, I suggest you pick your next words very carefully.” 
Bucky stirs and she lifts her hand from his head.
“Mmm. Good morning.” He mumbles, voice rough and heavy. 
“Good morning to you too sleepyhead.” She coos, rubbing his cheek with her thumb. “Did you sleep well?”
“Mhm.” He hums.
She gives Zemo a look that says ‘get out.’
Zemo gives her a smirk and walks away, leaving the two of them alone.
Bucky opens his eyes and Angel can feel her heart melt. He balances himself on his arm to press a kiss to her nose.
“You look cute with bed head.” He chuckles. “So pretty. I could just eat you up.” 
“You look quite pretty when you sleep.” She giggles and rubs her nose against his. 
He places his head back on her chest and they lie there for a while, listening to the sounds of the city. 
Finally, she sighs. 
“Alright, Bucky, I’m gonna go take a shower.”
He whines and wraps his arms around her.
“No, stay.”
“Bucky,” she says sternly, “I have to wash my hair, let go.”
With a huff, he sits up and lets her get off of the couch. As she stands she turns around spotting Bucky, arms crossed and a pout on his face. 
“I never said you couldn’t join.” 
Bucky jumps up and runs to her. He places his hands on her waist and turns her around, pressing a kiss to her lips. She links her fingers with his and he follows behind her towards the bathroom. 
While they wait for the water to heat up, she reaches into her bag to pull out bottles of product. 
He spots the shimmering bottle of apple cinnamon body wash and smiles. 
“Apple cinnamon body wash.” He notes.
“Mhm. It's inexpensive but it smells nice.”
“It does.” 
She places her hand under the stream of water and gets a feel for the temperature. The water is hot, just how she likes it. Her hands pull the t-shirt over her head and then her cotton underwear. 
Bucky waits for her to step into the shower before he strips down and joins her. 
A content smile crosses her face when the hot water hits her body but her peace is broken when she hears Bucky yelp. 
“Why is the water so hot?” 
“I like it hot.” She turns to face him and playfully pokes at his navel. “It’s relaxing.”
“You’re going to boil me alive.” He grumbles. 
“If you don’t like the hot water,” She bluntly states, “then get out.” 
She shampoos her hair, letting the bubbles froth around her fingers, and then she pours a bit into her hand and reaches up to massage it into Bucky’s hair. 
He runs a metal finger down her sternum, collecting a bit of the bubbles that run down her body. When his finger reaches her scar, his touch lingers. 
Seeing the guilt in his eyes, Angel places a finger underneath his chin and has him look into her eyes instead.
“Don’t.” She murmurs. “You’ll only torture yourself reminiscing on the past.” She pulls him under the stream, letting the water wash away the shampoo in their hair. 
She’s got a meticulous shower routine, one that she likes to perform herself, yet she’s okay with Bucky standing next to her. When she combs the conditioner through her hair, she does the same for Bucky, knowing it would soften his hair even more and make it smell like vanilla and pomegranate. 
She places a bit of the apple cinnamon body wash in her hands and rubs it onto his body. Her hands pay extra attention to the scar on his shoulder. 
“It’s got vitamin E in it. Helps with scars.” 
Bucky turns her around, making her face away from him.
She can’t see exactly what he’s doing, but she hums with relaxation when she feels his strong hands rub the body wash into her skin.
“You’ve got some knots in your shoulders.” He notes.
“I’m aware of that.”
“You’re stressed.”
“I am.” 
When the water washes away the body wash, the shower is filled with the scent of apple cinnamon. 
She’s surprised when she feels a kiss on the back of her shoulder but nevertheless, she enjoys it.
Bucky presses another kiss in the center of her shoulders and kisses her along the line of her back. He sinks to his knees and places a kiss onto the dimples of her back. 
“Buck, what are you doing?” She smirks, turning around. 
“I just wanna love on you.” He murmurs against her skin. “Can I?”
She blinks owlishly, then slowly nods her head. 
“Y-yeah” she breathes. 
Bucky places a kiss on her scar and runs his tongue over it, sending a fire through her. 
“Open your legs for me, doll.” 
She shyly parts her legs and Bucky smiles up at her.
He grabs her waist,  hoisting her knees over his shoulders, pressing her back against the wall. 
She lets out gaspy whines when he kisses and nips at her thighs, letting his stubble rub against the sensitive skin.
“Bucky,” she whimpers “we- we’re going to waste water.”
“Don’t worry about that, doll.” He murmurs. “Just let me make you feel good.” 
He licks a stripe up her folds, causing her to gasp. She grabs onto his hair, pulling him closer. 
“So sweet, baby. You taste so sweet.” 
She doesn’t reply. She couldn’t. Not when he was making her feel so good. 
She slaps her other hand onto the wall, trying to hold herself up. Bucky tightens his grip on her and leans in closer, continuously licking into her, making her head spin. 
She tries to say something, tell him she’s close, tell him she’s going to cum quicker than she thought, but the only sounds that leave her mouth are breathy moans. 
When he pulls away, she whines. He gives her a cocky grin. 
“Wanna cum?”
She vigorously nods her head. 
“That’s a shame.” He lets go of her legs, almost dropping her onto the tile, and wraps an arm around her waist to keep her steady. “We’ve got a big day ahead.” His tone is teasing, almost mean. “I’ll let you cum later.” 
She’s left on the edge, and she’s angry. No, not angry. Frustrated. Frustrated and desperate. 
“You’re mean.” She grumbles, shutting off the water. 
“If you give me attitude, I won’t let you cum at all.” He chuckles. 
She pushes him away and wraps a towel around her body. 
“I don’t need you to cum anyways.” She grumbles under her breath. 
As she walks away, he grabs her by the back of her neck and pulls her into his chest.
“If I were you,” He lowers his lips to her ear, “I’d behave. Now,” he releases his grip and gives her ass a smack. “Get dressed, we’ve got a lot to do today.” 
She digs through her duffel to find a simple red jumpsuit. The neckline is low enough to be teasing, but it had enough support and pockets to be practical. 
“Sounds like someone had a good morning.”
She turns around, a big grin stretching across her face when she sees Sam. 
“Sam! Good morning!” She cheers. 
“No need to good morning me when I woke up to the sound of fucking.” he grumbles, annoyance in his voice. 
She chuckles as she buttons the front of her jumpsuit. 
“So, Bucky tells me we have a lot going on today. What’s on the itinerary?”
“Hopefully, we can track down Karli and convince her to stop. At least that’s my plan.” 
“Sounds good.” 
He grabs his jacket from the chair. “I’m headed out to get something to eat. Do you want anything?” 
“I’m okay.” She smiles at him. “Thanks for asking.” 
Sam reaches the door and turns around. 
“One more thing, you’ve got a great voice.”
“Was I that loud or did no one sleep at all last night?”
Sam chuckles. 
“I think after the past few days, it’s hard for anyone to get a good night's sleep.” He looks down, fiddling with his fingers. “What you did… what you did for Bucky in Madripoor, when we were undercover…”
“What did I do?” She asks curiously. 
“When Zemo had him go all Winter Soldier, you fought alongside him, you got to that first guy before Bucky did.”
Angel is quiet. She says nothing, looking down at her hands and picking at her cuticles. 
“He might not say this to your face, but I’ve been around him long enough to know that he’s thankful. And so am I.”
She doesn’t know what to say. What would she even say?
“I can see now why he likes calling you Angel.” 
With that, the door closes. 
She walks over to the kitchen, looking through the cabinets. The shelves were fairly empty, mostly just tins of cookies and candy, and a box of cherry blossom tea. She huffs in frustration when her fingers brush over the tin of candy, barely moving it. 
“Need some help, doll?” 
Bucky grabs the tin and places it on the counter.
Her frustration is reignited at the sight of him in a tight, black t-shirt. She wants him to bend her over, fuck her until she sobs.
But she knows he won’t give her that.
Before she can grab it, Bucky holds it above his head. 
“You’re evil.” She mutters. “Come on, give me it.”
“Nope!” He smirks. 
“Go fu-“
She yelps when Bucky loops his thumb through the belt loop of her jumpsuit and pulls her close to him. 
“Remember what I told you? Watch your language.” 
“Give me the candy or you’re not getting head for a week.”
Bucky’s eyes widen and he hands her the box. 
“Thank you.” 
She presses a kiss to his nose and walks away with the box. 
She knows what Bucky’s doing. He’s riling her up, teasing her. 
But two can play that game. 
She sits up on the counter and opens the tin. 
Turkish Delight. Candy she used to eat as a child. 
He’s staring at her. She can feel it. Her fingers pluck a candy from the box and hold it up. 
“Want one?”
Bucky walks over to her and wedges himself between her thighs. 
“Sure.” 
She unwraps the candy and places a finger on his chin, beckoning him to open his mouth.
Her fingers place the treat on his tongue.
“Sweet, isn’t it?”
He kisses her and she can taste the sugar on his lips. 
“Almost as sweet as you.”
She grabs another and hops off of the counter, humored by Bucky’s frustrated look. 
“Sam probably wants everyone ready by the time he gets back. So, I don’t know.” She eyes him up and down, ready to drool at the sight of his arms. “Get dressed.”
“Oh doll, I’m already dressed.” He chuckles. 
“Good. Then help me out.” Her fingers deftly unbutton the top of her jumpsuit, exposing her black sports bra. She reaches for her harness and shoves it in Bucky’s hands. “Buckle me in.”
… 
Sex was the last thing on her mind when she’s face to face with the new Captain America. 
“Karli Morganthau is too dangerous for you to be pulling this shit.” He yells. 
Angel rolls her eyes at the sight of John Walker. 
“How’d you find us now?” Bucky replies, voice full of annoyance.
“You think two Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?” 
Angel’s seen his face in the news. Lemar, the better of America’s new dynamic duo. 
“No more keeping us in the dark, and you can tell us why you broke him” John points to Zemo “out of prison.”
“He did that himself, technically.” Bucky answers. 
“That is an unbelievable explanation! And who the hell are you?” He points to Angel. 
“I’m a friend.” She grumbles, eyes narrowed. 
“You have no business being here. And whatever you’re wearing, all you’re going to do is draw attention.”
“And your little Mr. America getup isn’t?”
“Why don’t you go back to working in European intelligence or whatever it is you do.”
“You better watch your mouth, Mr. Walker.” She snarls. “Is that really how you speak to a lady?” 
“I know where Karli is.” Zemo interrupts their feud.
“Well, where?” 
“All we know is,” Sam answers, “It’s a memorial. We’ll intercept her there.” 
“That means civilians, high risk of casualties.” Lemar states.
“Alright good.” John schemes. “We’ll move in fast, take her by surprise.” 
“Not a good idea, John.” Angel retorts. He halts in his steps and turns to her.
“You have no clue what you’re getting yourself into. This is an American situation.” 
She leans in until she’s staring into his eyes. Rage broils inside of her. 
“Let me tell you something John, I don’t care about your medals of honor. I don’t care that you’re wearing that red and blue suit. So I’ll tell you this once, and only once. If you dare speak to me like this again, I won’t hesitate to-“ 
Bucky pulls her back, giving her a stern look. 
“Hey,” he rubs her shoulder, trying to settle her anger. “He’s not worth it.”
“Oh, so she’s your little girlfriend huh?” 
Angel presses the tip of her knife against his chin and backs him into a wall.
“You stay out of Bucky’s business.” She seethes. 
“Hey, hey, hey!”
This time, both Sam and Bucky had to pull her away, but she keeps her murderous glare trained on him.
“Jesus Christ, Barnes. Keep your little psycho under control.” John spits. 
“Hey, don’t speak to her like that,” Sam demands. “Just because you don’t know her doesn’t give you an excuse to be rude.” 
“Either you show her some respect,” Bucky says “or all of the help we have to offer is off of the table.” 
Sam nods in agreement and eventually so does Zemo, who adds a small shrug. 
“I wasn't actually going to kill him.” She mutters under her breath.
“We know.” Sam pulls her into a side hug. He directs his words back to John. “I want to talk to her alone.”
“I’m not losing her again.” 
“Look, the person closest to her died. She’s vulnerable. If there’s any time to reason with her, it’s now.” 
“What?” John halts in his steps. “No, wait stop. We are way past reasoning with her.” 
“Sam,” Lemar states. “If you walk in there cold, you could die.”
“But if you walk in guns blazing, you could have the blood of hundreds of civilians on your hands.” Angel folds her arms. “Besides, if things go wrong, I’m trained in mixed martial arts.”
“You think a black belt will save you from  a super-soldier?” 
Angel snorts. 
“It has before.”
Bucky looks down and stifles a laugh. 
“I used to counsel soldiers dealing with trauma, okay?” Sam argues with John. “This is in my wheelhouse.”
They’re all silent, staring daggers at each other. 
“John,” Lemar breaks the silence “If he can talk her down, it might be worth a try.” He gives Angel a kind smile. “And I think we give this girl a chance to show us what she’s got.”
“Thank you.” She smiles back. 
“I’m sure this can all come to an agreeable conclusion.” Zemo points forward. “My associate is just up ahead.” 
They watch as Zemo approaches a young girl, handing her some money. She beckons them to follow her down a cobblestone path, into a building, and through the boiler room. 
“You’ve got ten minutes,” John states while handcuffing Zemo to a pipe. “Then we’re doing things my way.”
While they wait, Angel spends her time playing with her butterfly knife, spinning the handle around her fingers.
“How do you not cut yourself doing that?” Lemar asks. 
She spins the knife closed. 
“I have before, it’s just about practice and being careful. Here, I’ll show you.” 
Bucky observes Angel showing off her knife tricks to Lemar. 
Despite the stressful situation, he still felt a pang of possessiveness. She was his Angel. He gave her that name and when she said she’d accepted it. In a way, she was his and he was hers. 
“What’s your name? I don’t think you’ve ever told me.” 
He hears Lemar ask.
Angel giggles.
“It’s Artemis. Like the goddess.”
Artemis. It’s fitting, Bucky thinks. The goddess of the hunt.
“That’s really cool. Let me guess, your parents were huge mythology fans?”
“You can say that.” She chuckles.
His eyes narrow when she smiles at Lemar. 
Their conversation continues and Bucky’s jealousy burns brighter when she places her fingers on the fabric of Lemar’s suit, giving him a comment on how she’s got an eye for fashion and how nice the fabric was. From his position by the door, he sees her turn to him and give him a wink. 
Bucky scowls. That little minx.
John crosses his arms and stares daggers into her.
“What exactly do you do, anyway?” He scoffs. “Are you some kind of spy?”
Angel raises a brow. 
“I’m not a spy. I’m just a problem solver.” 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” John shakes his head and secures the shield on his arm. “Nevermind. I’m going in.” 
“Oh, come on John, it’s only been eight minutes.” 
“No. Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me.” 
“I’m not-” Angel sighs and turns away, focusing her attention on pulling her hair back.
Bucky stops him before John can get through the doorway. 
“It must be so easy for you.” John’s voice is full of malice. “All that serum running through your veins. Barnes, your partner needs backup. Do you really want his blood on your hands?” 
Bucky can see Angel slowly shake her head, telling him not to give in to John’s words. But he can’t. He’s already done so much harm. He’s responsible for the deaths of so many people, he can’t let Sam become another. 
So, he lets John walk past him, Lemar following along. 
Angel runs up to him. 
“Bucky, why’d you do that?” 
“I can’t… I can’t risk it. I can’t risk losing him.” 
She sighs and places a gentle hand on his cheek. 
“I understand.” Her lips land a gentle kiss on his nose. “But don’t let his words get to you. Now,” She grins and lightly smacks his ass. “Go make sure he doesn’t kill anyone.” 
With one final kiss, Bucky runs off. 
She turns around to see the handcuffs dangling from the pole. Her blood runs cold. Zemo escaped and who knows what he’ll do.
She runs through the halls, boots quietly slapping on the concrete floors. From her left, she hears a series of loud gunshots and crunching glass. 
Her feet lightly tread next to the walls, ears picking up every little sound. 
She jumps, heartbeat pounding when the thump of a body falling to the ground meets her ears. 
Did Zemo kill someone? Was it Karli? Another Flag-Smasher? 
She runs through the door closest to her. From behind a table, she spots John staring at a small vial. A small vial of the serum. Before she can say anything, he runs away. 
As she quietly walks into the room, she spots Zemo, lying on the ground, unconscious. No one else was here. 
She crouches down next to him and gently shakes his shoulder. 
“Baron? Zemo? Come on, wake up.” 
He doesn’t move. 
She picks up his wrist, pressing her pointer and middle fingers on the vein. A sigh of relief passes her lips at the feeling of a pulse. 
Her hands shake his shoulder again, this time, with more vigor. 
“Zemo!” She shouts.
His eyes snap open and he groans in pain. 
“You passed out Baron.”
“I’m aware.” He grumbles. “John Walker threw the shield at me.” 
“Of course he did.”
She offers him a hand and helps him stand up. 
“Can you walk?” She asks. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll be okay.”
The two make their way through the city until they reach Zemo’s apartment. Sam was already there, typing away on his computer. 
Angel wets a towel in the kitchen and hands it to Zemo.
“Go, lie down. Put this over your eyes.” 
She walks down the hall towards Bucky’s room. With a tired sigh, she removes her shoes, jumpsuit, and harness.
Her eyes close as she lies on the bed in her underwear. The sports bra felt much too tight but she didn’t care. She was tired. Her morning sexual frustration had caught up to her but she didn’t feel like doing anything about it.
Even though it was only seven in the evening, she just wanted to sleep.
Right when she’s drifting off to sleep, the slam of the bedroom door jolts her awake. 
Bucky is standing in front of her, arms crossed, eyes filled with rage.
“Get off the bed.” He snarls. 
She laughs and rolls over onto her stomach. 
“No. If sex is what you want, let’s do it on the bed.”
She hears a sigh behind her and her eyes widen when she feels Bucky’s hands wrap around her ankles. 
“Buck, what are you-”
Her words come to a halt when he pulls her off of the bed and onto her knees. 
“You wanted me to fuck you?” He seethes. “Fuck you rough until you can’t speak?”
“That was the plan.” She smirks. 
He twists a hand in her hair and pulls her head back. Her breath is shallow as she looks up, meeting Bucky’s angry eyes. 
He’s mad. At the entire Karli situation, and maybe with her. But his anger towards her, she assumes, is fiery, lustful anger. Anger that she can have a lot of fun with. 
“If you had let me cum earlier,” She snaps, “ maybe I wouldn’t have been such a brat.”
She rubs her thighs together, trying to alleviate the arousal burning through her. A whine leaves her lips when he kicks her legs apart. 
He tightens his grip on her hair.
“You really need to learn some respect.”
Bucky places the toe of his boot on her back and pushes her face down onto the floor. She doesn’t resist, giving in to his dominance. 
“Aww, look at you,” he mocks, “You were so bold earlier, my Angel. Where did that fire go?”
Her heart swells. He’s no longer calling her Angel. He’s called her his Angel. She was his. 
Footsteps echo around her and she takes a shaky breath when his black boots come into view. 
“Look at me, doll. I wanna see those pretty eyes.”
His voice is commanding, authoritative. It drew her in, made her head spin.
She looks up at him with wide eyes as he bends down on a knee.
“Were you trying to rile me up? Trying to make me angry?” 
She nods.
Bucky roughly grabs her chin, cold metal digging into her cheeks.
“Use your words.”
“Y-yes Sergeant.” She squeaks.
He stares down at her, anger and lust in his eyes. 
“Open your mouth.” 
Her lips part and Bucky spits, letting his saliva pool on her tongue. 
His fingers press on her chin, closing her mouth. She swallows, heat burning in her tummy. 
“So now, you want to be a good girl, huh?” 
He picks her up by her neck and shoves her face into the soft mattress. His fingers loop around the elastic waistband of her panties and pull, the fabric digging into her cunt. 
“Yes, I’m your good girl.” She whines. “I’ll be good. Promise.” 
He leans in close, his warm breath brushing over her ear. 
“I don’t believe you.” 
He rears his metal hand against her ass, leaving a red handprint of her skin. 
A choked breath leaves her lips. She relishes in the pain and gives him a cocky smile.
“Is that all you got Sarge?” 
He lands another hard smack, this time on her thigh. A whimper escapes her lips.
“Oh, you’re really asking for it, aren’t you?” 
He shifts his hand on her neck, wrapping it around the front of her neck. She squeezes at the sides, slowing the circulation of blood to her head. 
She opens her mouth to speak, but the hand on her throat stops the words from leaving her lips. 
The clinking of his belt buckle sends a wave of lust through her. 
She was finally getting what she wanted.
His hand on her neck is released and she takes in a sharp breath.  
He pulls her panties down her legs and throws them to the side. 
She gasps at the feeling of cold metal rubbing between her folds. Her fingers dig into the sheets, grabbing at the fabric. 
“You’re practically dripping.” He muses, “Who knew you were such a masochist?” 
“Only for you.” She keens. 
“Only for me? Not for anyone else?”
“Yes! Yes! Only you!”
Bucky hums and lands another smack on her ass. She yelps and tears threaten to spill from her eyes. 
He shoves two fingers inside of her and she gasps at the cool feeling of the metal. 
She squirms around as he twists his fingers, pressing against that spot inside of her.
Hunger swarms her brain. She wanted, no, needed more. 
What he’s doing is sadistic, she thinks. Constantly bringing her to the edge, but never letting her tip over. 
He lets his thumb press against her clit and the tears she’s been trying to hold back spill over. She lets out a quiet sob into the sheets but Bucky doesn’t stop his movements. 
“I need more.” She quietly whimpers. 
“You think you have the right to beg?” He asks nonchalantly. “After that little show?” 
“I’m sorry.” She cries. 
Her eyes squeeze shut and she turns her head, letting her cheek rest on the bedsheets. When she glances up, she can see Bucky’s amused smirk. 
She feels the tip of his cock pressing against her entrance and she holds her breath. 
“Oh doll,” he coos, thumbing away her tears, “You’re so pretty when you cry.” 
A sudden thrust of his hips buries his cock inside of her. Bucky clamps his hand over her lips, muffling her desperate cries. 
“Shh, shh,” He whispers gently. “It’s okay, love. Be a good girl and take it.” 
He starts moving, his hips slowly thrusting into her. The fire inside of her burns, hotter and hotter. Her head is reeling as she feels herself come closer to her impending orgasm. Despite how rough he is with her, she feels safe. Safe with him. She feels safe enough to fall into submission, open and pliant for him. 
Her sobs against his hand become louder, more intense and he bends down to nip at her neck.
“Are you gonna cum, angel? Cum all over my cock?” 
She nods, eyes squeezed shut. 
“Do you think you deserve it?” He asks.
“No,” she mumbles against his hand. “But I want to.”
He brushes his fingers down the length of her back and she shivers. 
“You wanna cum, doll? Ask nicely.” 
He releases his hand and grabs her hip, pulling her deeper onto his cock. 
“Please.” She gasps. “Please, let me cum!” 
“You have to do better than that.”
“Please, I’ll be so good for you! I’ll never flirt with anyone again! Just please! Please, I wanna cum.” 
He picks up his pace, and she finds it harder to stave off her orgasm. 
“So polite.” He hums, “But not yet.”
She lets out a pathetic sob.
“Please.” She whimpers. 
“Be patient. You’ll get to cum soon.” 
Her breaths are shallow as she tries to keep herself from cumming. She bites down on her lower lip but the pain does little to help.
Relief washes over her when Bucky speaks again.
“You’ve been such a good girl for me. Come on angel, cum for me.” 
Her teeth bite down on the sheets as she’s hurtles over the edge, her orgasm sending shockwaves through her body. 
As her chest heaves and her mind becomes foggy, she can barely feel Bucky pull out and releases him cum on her back. 
She lies there, upper half sprawled over the mattress, a dopey smile on her face. A hum of pleasure slips past her lips when Bucky wipes his cum away with a warm washcloth. 
“You okay, doll?” He asks. 
She nods her head. 
The bed shifts as he sits on the bed and pulls her towards him. 
“Come on,” He lies down and pulls her close to him. He noses at the back of her shoulder. “Get some rest.” 
The sun was about to set, bathing their bodies in a golden glow. He runs his metal fingers over her bicep, cooling down her heated skin. 
She’s tired, so tired. Yet she’s happy. The first time in a long time that she’s actually felt happy. 
“Bucky?” She asks in a fucked out daze.
“Yes my angel?” 
A moment of silence passes. 
“You’re the only one who’s made me feel human.”
...
Once again, tysm @sojournmichael for reading over my little snippets of writing!
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mosswillow · 4 years
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Try Again, And Again, And Again - Dark!Charles Xavier x Reader
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Summary: Your life is so perfect. A sweet and caring husband, a beautiful home; but something is off.
Warnings: 18+ adult content, dark, smut, vaginal fingering MORE WARNINGS AT BOTTOM
A/N: Requested by a wonderful Anon. I hope you enjoy this, I had fun writing it for sure. 🖤🖤🖤
Word count: 2.7k
By clicking read more you agree that you’re over 18 and understand that the following fic is mature and meant for adults.
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Morning light glows from behind the curtains and you blink a few times as your brain wakes up. You look over to your husband, Charles, and give him a peck on the cheek.
“Good morning,” He groans.
You smile and slide your hand over his chest and down his abdomen.
“Well, you’re naughty this morning,” He chuckles.
He rolls to his side and grabs your face, pulling you toward him and kissing you aggressively. His other hand snakes down your body and finds your clit, circling it slowly. You push your hips into his hand and he moves his fingers faster. A moan escapes you  as his fingers dip into your cunt, expertly finding that spot that makes you sing. Within minutes you’re coming around his fingers. He watches you hungrily, sinking his finger in deeper and groaning as he reaches his own climax.
“You’re perfect,” He whispers in your ear.
You smile and close your eyes for a second before rolling out of bed.
“Eggs?” you ask, watching from the doorway as he stretches his tight leg muscles.
“Sounds perfect.”
Charles comes in just as you finish plating everything. He stops at the table and pulls a paper from his lap, opening it and finding something to read. You put the eggs down in front of him and he pulls you down, giving you a kiss.
“Why do you have to be so beautiful?” He asks.
You give a playful smile and shrug while turning away, feigning surprise when he lands a playful slap on your ass. You sit across from him and sip your coffee, studying his concentrated face as he reads his paper. Intelligence is the first thing that attracted you to him, He’s always reading something, always thinking. It was all luck, finding such a smart and caring husband. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you.
The door opens and you don’t have to look to know who it is. Wolverine.
“You just got back,” you whine.
“Disaster doesn't tend to check the calendar for a convenient time,” He replies, following Logan out to talk to him. You try to hear from the table but their voices are muffled. Charles comes back and you frown as you take in the apologetic look on his face.
“I could help,” you say hopefully. You know it’s not safe for you, you weren't born like him, don’t have powers. Still something inside you wants desperately to go with him and help save the world. He grabs your hand and pulls you down into a long kiss.
“No.”  His tone is harsh and you jump a little.  “I’m sorry, I know how much you hate waiting here. It’s just not safe.”
You stand, taking your plate to the kitchen and rinse it off, refusing to look at him. He pushes up behind you grabbing your arm and you turn to him wiping away a tear.
“Come home, I need you,” you try to smile but end up pouting.
“Always, my dear.”  
The yard is littered with mutants, you watch them mobilize and quickly leave together. It’s suddenly quiet and you sit at the window watching the breeze move leaves around the yard. It’s a beautiful day, it would be so nice to take a walk. It’s not safe when he’s away. It’s what you agreed to when you married him, the constant fear. It’s worth it to be with him, you’ve never loved someone so much.
It’s so nice though and you just want a little fresh air. You look around and open the door, walking into the yard. It’s not a big deal, just a little walk. You make your way through the grass and stop suddenly when you notice something sticking up from the dirt. You bring your hand to the object and feel electricity run through your fingertips as something pulls up through the dirt. A little white bow. You stare at it for several minutes and stuff it in your pocket before heading back inside.
You’re not sure why you don’t just throw it away, why you walk straight to your bathroom and hide it on the top shelf. It feels important, like it’s something special and needs to be kept.
After a few hours you forget about the little bow and by the time night falls the only thought on your mind is Charles. You’re too worried to sleep so you sit on the couch and read a book. The door opens and you look up expectantly.
“You should have gone to bed,” Charles chastises.
“You know I can’t sleep when you’re gone.”
He pulls you into a long kiss and your anxiety melts away.
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You wake up halfway through the night screaming. He brings you into a hug and shushes you.
“Just a nightmare,” He whispers as you cry into his chest. He holds you until you’re asleep but the nightmare comes again, and again, and again. You’re always running from someone, so scared.  You eventually get up, make coffee and watch the sun rise.
“You ok?” Charles says from behind you.
“Yeah, I had to be up early this morning anyway. We have that breakfast with Jean and Scott.”
“You can go back to bed, I’ll handle breakfast,” He says and you shake your head.
“I already have two cups of coffee in me,” you smile.
He moves over to you and you look at his face. It’s stern, he’s angry about something.
“I got an alert, you went outside while I was away.”
“Just for a moment,” you say.
“You know you aren’t allowed to go outside alone.”
“I think that rule is a little over the top, I was only outside for a second,” you argue.
“Look at me.” you look into his eyes and his face drops into a disapproving glare.”You agreed to this when we got married, you know how important this is to me and what I’m willing to do to keep you safe.”
you shake slightly and look down again and he grabs your hand, holding it painfully tight.
“Do not leave this house without permission again or there will be consequences.”
“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again,” you whisper. You did agree to it, you’re wrong to push back on the rule.
His features relax and he places his hands on your waist, rubbing circles with his thumb.
“I love you,” He says.
“I love you too,” you smile.
He leaves you alone and you look back out the window. You agreed to this, to him. You agreed to obey all his rules for your safety, gave up control and your life is better for it. So why do you feel so trapped right now?
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The coffee doesn’t help as much as you would like and you find yourself yawning throughout breakfast.
“Tired?” Jean asks.
“Nightmares,” you smile sadly.
Jean and Scott share a look and you glance between them.
“Is there something wrong?” You ask.
“Of course not,” Jean says “Hey, you were going to lend me a book.”
You nod and walk with Jean across the room.
“Charles says you left the house yesterday?”
You pull a book off the shelf.
“I already apologized, I won’t do it again,” you say.
“You didn’t find anything outside did you?”
You think of the little bow hidden in the bathroom and something inside you tells you to lie.
“No, I just breathed in some fresh air and stepped back in,” you say.
Jean looks at you with suspicion and you shift your eyes away.
You look over at Charles and Scott talking across the room. They smile at you and you give a small smile back. You’re lucky, you tell yourself. Great friends, amazing husband. You’re happy.
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“So I was thinking we could go somewhere fancy for our anniversary,” Charles mentions as you brush your teeth.
A frown starts forming against your will, you forgot about your anniversary.
“We could do something more casual,” He tries again.
“No it’s just... nevermind.”
“What?”
You shake your head and look in the mirror. It’s silly but you can’t remember what you did for your last anniversary or even how long you’ve been married. You think it’s been four years but maybe it’s three? Or five? Time doesn’t really matter when you’re with someone you love, you decide.
“Answer me,” He demands, pulling you from your thoughts.
“I’m sorry, I just can’t remember what we did for our last one. It’s dumb.”
He smiles and pulls you toward him, grabbing the back of your head and kissing your cheek.
“I don’t think we even made it out of the house last time. Ordered pizza in,” he whispers.
A memory of pizza and marathon sex comes to the front of your memory and you smile.
“Oh yeah, that was fun. A fancy dinner sounds good this time, It’s been a while since we went out.”
“I’ll make a reservation,” He smirks.
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You wake up the middle of the night from another nightmare. It’s been a week now and they keep getting worse. They always go the same way, in your house at the living room window looking out. A monster starts chasing you and you climb out the window and run for your life.
You get up and go to the window from your dreams, looking out shaking your head in frustration. Something feels wrong but you can’t put your finger on it. You feel like you’re going crazy, it’s like you know there’s an important meeting scheduled but can’t remember where it is or who it’s with. You look around the room for clues and your wedding album catches your eye. You look through the photos smiling as you remember the day, then you see one that makes you stop. Something about it…
It slides out of the album easily, like it’s been taken out many times before and you turn it over. ‘Didn’t happen: leg’ is scrawled across the back and you quickly slide the photo back in and stare at it. It’s small but there’s a slight inconsistency beside your leg in the photo. You start turning over more photos to find more notes and descriptions of tiny mistakes throughout the album. Beeping comes from your watch and you look down to see a heart rate alert. You take deep breaths as you put the album away and stand in the quiet room.
“What are you doing up?” Charles calls from the bedroom and you jump.
“Just a drink of water,” you call back, grabbing a glass of water and walking back to bed.
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A present arrives for you, a big red bow on top. You untie it and look inside finding a diamond bracelet.
“Do you like it?” Charles asks.
“It’s beautiful,” You reply.
He’s always so thoughtful, checking your internet searches to find what you’ve been looking at. He’s really the perfect husband. Your life is so perfect.
The bracelet feels heavy on your arm as you walk to the bathroom to start preparing for your date, taking a shower and applying makeup. You grab your bottle of foundation and notice it’s almost empty. It’s ok because you have another bottle. You reach onto the top shelf and feel something soft. The bow. Your nightmare flashes through your mind and you take the bow with you to the living room window. Something is off, really off. It’s right there, so close, a few minutes and you’ll remember, you know you will.
“What are you holding?” Charles asks, his voice hard. He’s angry, but why?
You shake your head and he sighs.
“How many times are we going to do this huh?” he says, clicking his tongue. A look of contempt solidifies on his face and it starts coming back.
Your nightmare flashes through your mind again and this time you can make out the monster. It’s him, Charles. The photos, they were faked. None of this is real.
“You’re not my husband…. What did you do to my mind?”
“Walk away from the window baby, we don’t have to keep doing this.”
Tears start forming. You’ve had this conversation before many times. It was all a lie, he kidnapped you. You had thought you found a family with them, they gave you a home when you ran away. He took one look at you and decided you were his and everyone just… went along with it.
“Let me go.”
“We’re happy together darling.”
“I hate to break it to you, darling, but If you have to change someone's memories for them to date you it’s not a happy relationship.” you start getting angry, or really, your actual personality comes back. He took everything from you, made you so small. You’ve never been small, always fought. He’s taken away the very thing that makes you you.
“I deserve it after everything I’ve done, everything I’ve lost.”
“But I don’t deserve it. You took everything! My freedom,” you look at your hands “My powers,” you cry, realizing how he made you forget everything you can do. He kept you in this home, treated you like a fragile doll. You’re not fragile.
You reach for the window unlocking it with ease, your muscles remembering the motion.
“You know I’ll always catch you. Even if you somehow get out of our yard there’s no way to hide from me.” He puts a finger to his temple.
“Magneto.” You say simply, the threat obvious in your tone. His nostrils flare.
“You wouldn’t.”
You would.
“I’ll always run and one day I’ll get away. If It means going back to Erik I will.”
“He abused you, beat you.”
“So do you.”
“I punish when I have to because I love you, it’s not abuse.”
“Erik said the same thing,” you roll your eyes “You’re so alike, two sides of the same coin. At least with Erik I was aware of the abuse. You hit me and then make me happy about it, make me thank you.”
He moves toward you, lip curling into a sneer.
“Close that window and come here.”
“You took my memories, messed with my mind,” you yell.
“Only because you can’t ever just obey, it’s always a fight with you. Show me you can behave and you can keep them.”
You start climbing out the window and his voice gets louder.
“Don’t you dare run from me, not again,” He yells.
You run, just like every other time, and just like every time you don’t make it far before he stops you, making you barely able to move. You fight it and sparks fly though your fingers ad you reach for the ground. It’s like meeting an old friend, the earth whispers to you and you cry, not wanting to lose them again. You give your bracelet to the earth and it pulls it under for you. They won’t find it, not even if they dig for it. The earth will keep it safe and give it back to you when you’re ready again.
You’re suddenly pulled up and carried inside. Logan deposits you on the bed and Charles gives him a nod of gratitude. Charles leans over you and you give him the most loathsome look you can muster, still barely able to move. He holds your head and closes his eyes briefly.
‘I hate you’ you think over and over again.
“You just need more time,” He replies, wiping a tear from your cheek as you lose consciousness.
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You shoot up and look around your room.
“Are you ok?” Charles asks.
“Yeah, I have a headache is all,” you reply
He pulls you back down to the bed and kisses your cheek.
“Why don’t you just rest today darling, I’ll get you some pain killers.”
You nod, so happy to have such a loving and thoughtful husband. Your life is so perfect.
You look over and see a little piece of wallpaper coming up at the edge. A feeling washes over you, telling you to peel back the wallpaper. Beeps start coming from your wrist, warning you of your heart rate and you take deep breaths.
Something is off.
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WARNINGS: Mind control, kidnapping, mentions of punishments, spousal abuse.
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Note
Hey, may I request a Creepypasta match-up?
I'm a pansexual and genderfluid person (I use all pronoums, though I prefer gender neutral ones, also, i have a feminine body)
My height is 5'2, and i'm kinda chubby (and i'm insecure of it, a lot) i have slightly curly shoulder lenght brown hair, and hazel eyes. I have pale skin. I have small hands. Sometimes, but very rarely, I wear glasses (my vision is a bit blurry, not closely but from afar.)
My personality type is INFP, but other than that I'm polite, shy , and sweet to strangers, I'm more laid back with friends. I have anger Issues, though, and my anxiety causes me to be too scared to talk with someone. I prefer to stay quiet and observe what people do and what they talk about so that i can understand more about their persona. I'm sad most of the time, but i cheer myself up easily (ex. Drawing/Painting, watching vines and reading a book, or talking with a friend). I have no problem with holding hands, or hugging in public, but i'd prefer kissing to be a more private thing. (If my partner prefers PDA to be completely private, i'll respect this, and not make them uncomfortable.)
I'm kinda clumsy and I make messes almost everytime. I'm a couch potato. I have trouble understanding my emotions, so more often than not, i mistake romantic love for platonic love and vice versa , and for this reason, i think i won't ever find someone to put up with me daily, lol. When I cry, i don't make much noise, as to not attract attention, because it makes me feel like a bother to other people. Though, if people let me vent, and if they'll allow it, i'll put my head in the other person shoulder and cry a bit louder, just enough so that said person can hear, and no one else can. Usually, after an argument, i'm the first one that tries to fix the situation.
My main interest are painting/drawing, (mostly gore art and vent art) photography, playing videogames, watching horror films, listening to music, baking and reading. I hate it when a drawing is not how i want it and my brain goes like: "bro wth is this- start everything again." I also hate bees for some weird reason, and spiders too. I love the rain, and stargazing. I also really like every colour and shape of eyes, and i like playing with my partner hand or my own. (More like gently caressing the palm and fingers of the hand)
My phobias are Pediophobia, Aracnophobia and Nyctophobia. I have sensitive ears, so even a door slamming scares me. I am a very light sleeper, and sometimes i wake up in the middle of the night, and can't fall back asleep. Sometimes I tic, though i do not have Tourette's
My love languages are physical touch, words of affirmation and gift giving (i'm totally fine with being the only one that gives my partner gifts if it makes them unconfortable or shy.)
Sometimes, randomly or while drawing, i might whisper or sing lyrics to random songs i just had in mind in that moment.
My fav. Types of music is metal/Alternative metal and rock, and sometimes classical music to help me relax. I'd like to own an electric guitar someday.
I only wear clothes that make me feel comfortable, and those are an oversized sweater and a pair of jeans or leggins.
I'm not the type of person to go out on fancy dates, my perfect type of date would be a movie night, or a night spent playing videogames and eating pizza, while cuddling in the couch.
And that's all!
Hope you have a nice day/night, and stay safe ♡
Heya, thanks for sending it in! Oh and I love your Bubblegum pfp, it's adorable <3
I MATCH YOU UP WITH
EYELESS JACK
His Eyeless POV
+ He was very straightforward about his feelings towards you. He just went, "I like you" but he feels more than "like" + teddy bear, your a teddy bear. So what if you're a little chubby? Makes cuddling so much better. A soft teddy bear, just for him. + Why are you so cute? Why? His heart- + He's comfortable too, yk (rwara) You could even lay on top of him, your head on his chest. You'll listen to his heartbeat in harmony with yours~ He, in fact, could feel yours. He's a demon, after all, better feeling and hearing senses. + If you don't mind...he'll accompany you while you draw. He wants to see your art (even if it's gore, he doesn't mind. Actually, if you want, he'll let you use the bodies in his stash room as a reference) and hear your voice at the same time. + When you listen to metal, he'll cover his ears (metal hurts his ears, heightened sense of hearing) but seeing you enjoy the music makes him smile. + Classical music? Makes him go to sleep, so you two might be cuddling maybe you were stressed as well. So, he put on classical music. He listens to Bruno Mars btw hehe. + Dolls and spiders, he'll rip them apart. + He'll make sure that his nightlight is on when you two are sleeping. You two? I didn't mention ya'll sleep together? Yes yes you do, a queen-sized bed baby + I hope his hoodies and T-shirts make you comfy. They're a bit big for him since he's like..ripped. ayee + Again, he could cuddle you all day. If you ever feel insecure, he WILL in his power change that. You're perfect. He loves all your flaws. And if anyone points anything about you out, they're going to be in half. Regardless they're age. + photography, playing videogames, watching horror films, listening to music, baking and reading, he'll do all of this with you~ + Play with his hands or hair, you'll get a soft purr from him hehehe + Anything you wear, makes him melt. Wear something that reveals your skin? He's a pink demon now muahha + He doesn't mind receiving gifts. I hope you don't mind him giving you a gift once or more a day. Every day, there's always a new gift from him. What do you want? He'll get it for you! + Your shared room is very soundproof. He made sure of it. He doesn't want your alone time with or without him disturbed in any way. + Dude has good hearing, so he knows when you cry. The sound of your rapid heartbeat and gasps. He hears it all. There's literally no limit in how much he could hear.So, he's there by your side in like a few minutes. + He wants to be at your side 24/7. He's your lover and personal bodyguard. He loves you so much, he can't say no if you ask if he imagined a future life with you. "Yea, I did. I couldn't sleep last night so I thought- well...us.." he mumbles.
I hope you enjoyed it! Camm tried to stop me from writing bc my fingers were hurt but I wrote it anyway. I had to!! Have a great day and take care!!
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sweetest-honeybee · 3 years
Text
Down to Dust
Chapter 4
Fic Summary: Grian will have to keep the dragon egg secure for the Watchers. But, they’re not the only ones who want it. On a completely unrelated note, Mumbo will have to deal with a version of himself thats only amplified by his No Killing mindset.
Chapter Sumamry: Mumbo was surprised to find that Grian was right when he said the egg was magical.
TW: Slight electrocution I suppose, and descriptions of lightning
Word Count: 2415
Notes: Again, the two farms are in the overworld, not in the Nether or End for the sake of the fic
Enjoy! And this one deserves a Read More because it’s long lol
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By the end of the next day, Mumbo had finished his first farm and half of his second farm. Much to his surprise, the egg didn’t bear any harm. It was strangely quiet recently but it didn’t bother him any. At the moment, it was in his inventory should anyone come by and see that he had it. It’d ruin his plans and he didn’t want to give up the egg just yet. Really, he could probably keep it forever. It had been completely safe and comfortable- or, as comfortable as an egg can be- since he stole it. Mumbo called that pretty responsible.
Who was he kidding, Grian would kill him eventually if he never found it himself.
He laid down the last of the comparators for the third row, focused more on finishing his farm than overthinking the egg situation. If all went well so far, they should be able to work on their own if he flipped a lever. The redstoner pulled the egg from his inventory and held it up to his face.
“I think everything looks about right so far, yeah?” He turned the egg as if there was a face to show his work. The egg quite obviously never spoke but it helped to explain the redstone and find the flaws in his contraptions.
Nothing seemed out of place. The first row’s test went swimmingly and by replicating that a few more times, all should go as planned when he tested them together. With his luck it may not happen but he could stand to be a little optimistic at least. Mumbo went on to build the last of the uniform rows and easily finished another quarter of the farm. All was down to just encasing said farm in a wall of glass to avoid the items spilling over the sides.
He stood back once more with his hands on his hips, the egg now by his feet. The redstoner was proud to say the least. He looked down at the egg which only sat stock still. Leaving the egg, he turned to dig in his chest for more materials.
Unbeknownst to him, however, the egg wouldn’t stay still for much longer.
“Glass, glass, where on Earth did I put the glass?” He mumbled to himself. He continued to rummage. Eventually, he pulled away from the chest with an internal cheer. “Of course it was next to the pistons.”
He swirled back around when he began to hear small pops from behind him. As he did, Mumbo’s eyes widened. Small purple sparks crackled every so often at the base of the egg and quickly began to grow in size. The egg itself launched into a fit of rapid vibrating.
“Oh! Uh-oh!” He dropped the glass next to him, shattering upon impact, and hurriedly jogged to the now terrifyingly lively egg. “Please tell me you're supposed to do that!”
The redstoner hesitated, going to touch it, then pulling away with a worried whimper. Mumbo didn’t want to touch it but he panicked as he was at a loss of what to do. The egg was calm for weeks before now. Even Grian would’ve said something if the egg had done something like this before Mumbo stole it.
Ah…Grian did tell him it was a magical egg.
Mumbo only thought Grian was joking to keep him from taking it. He’s never seen a dragon egg do that! It was just from the update, he suggested to himself. Eggs were just suddenly powerful and might destroy his days of work. He laughed nervously and pulled at his tie. It didn’t matter what he thought, the small sparks were now large bolts that shot their way into the ground. It singed the grass around it, turning it to a coal black. He had to back away from the egg’s ever expanding radius of energy.
“Oh what do I do- what do I do?!” Then, the obvious idea appeared and he palmed his forehead. “Grian!”
The redstoner fumbled to get his communicator from his pocket, almost dropping it several times. He miss-clicked several icons with petrified fingers and growled in frustration. Only when he finally opened the chat, the egg ceased its episode with an immediate halt. He looked up from the screen with caution and took another step away from the egg.
The area fell silent. Not a bird’s chirp or leave’s rustle broke the blanket of stillness that suddenly washed over everything. It wasn’t a comfortable silence, though.
He inched forward with small steps, clutching his communicator. Seconds passed, then a minute.
“H…Hello?” He said tentatively. He stuck a leg out, poking at it with the tip of his shoe then retracting his leg once more. A sigh escaped his lips. “Good, I guess that’s over with then.”
But it wasn’t. The egg was hardly finished as the bolts started again, much much larger than their already massive size they reached before it stopped the first time. Mumbo shrieked and attempted to retreat back to his chest. It took no longer than five seconds before a wave of the purple energy resonated through the ground and absorbed into the two farms. It knocked Mumbo from his feet and onto the grass, sending an electric shiver through his body.
He shielded his neck with his arms and waited. He only turned over when the sounds of roaring pistons caught his attention. But, that was hardly what he worried about as he watched in awe- good or bad, he wasn’t sure yet- at the effects of the egg’s sudden show of magic.
Both farms were activated and running faster than any farm he’d ever seen. Items upon items flowed down water streams and into stacks of chests. Some items avoided their intended route and simply floated in all directions above the farms. It was loud, incredibly loud. Mumbo nearly had to cover his ears as he initially cowered from the noise. However, he soon pulled himself to his feet and slowly approached the over-efficient farms.
A violet haze emitted from the redstone, replacing its originally reddish color, and from the cracks between each set of stone bricks. Each block crackled and hissed with energy, and it almost felt as if he were gaining some of that energy himself. Small bolts fizzled out over his suit. He lifted his left hand and turned it over, watching as sparks flew over and down his fingers to their tips.
To put it simply, it was a beautiful and supernatural sight. He wasn't sure how to react. His own heart was still racing- from the energy around him or his nerves, he also didn’t know.
While in the middle of the two farms, he glanced back at the egg which no longer twisted and turned, but sat with slowly flowing violet streams of energy penetrating the ground. Much like the hum of a conduit sounded from it. Now, it seemed very calm in contrast to its earlier fit. Mumbo assumed- for obvious reasons, really- that the egg powered the farms despite the contraptions having been able to power themselves via redstone. It was captivating and he couldn’t help but to become curious about what was inside the egg that would’ve given it so much power. That or had it already been created with it. Either way, he yearned to learn more about it. It could be revolutionary and improve efficiency immensely.
Although, the event was short lived as the egg’s energy flow sputtered and dissipated, leading to the farms shutting down with it. Mumbo looked up as items began to rain over his shoulders when they fell. But, he was hardly bothered. At this moment he realized a few things.
His farms worked, thankfully; The egg held an amount of power that could power several farms; Mumbo wanted to keep the egg for even longer to experiment.
Of course, he still wanted to eventually return it but as someone who couldn’t kill anything, the egg could help him for the time being...He already had many ideas popping into his head by the second. It only made him giddy for what was to come. He ran over and scooped up the egg with an ear-to-ear grin, holding it up to his face.
“You, my friend, are one wicked egg,” he complimented. Then, he put it in his inventory and prepared to fly home. He’d clean up the mess later.
As he rocketed off to his base, he noticed his red sweatered friend sitting alone on the roof of his house. Even when Mumbo flew by, Grian didn’t wave or nod up to him or really even look at him. Piquing his curiosity, though he should just go home and avoid confrontation, he landed behind Grian and carefully stepped down the slope of the roof.
“Hey! Haven’t heard from you much today,” he greeted. Mumbo was only met with silence. “Are you okay?”
After a second, Grian twitched when he realized that someone was talking to him. He turned his head to where Mumbo crouched down next to him.
“Oh! Sorry, I was just thinking. This is my thinking roof.”
The redstoner hummed. “Ah, don’t wear yourself out then,” he laughed.
“You should try it sometime with that empty head of yours.” The avian chuckled dryly and looked back to the setting sun, the small smile falling from his face.
“Thanks,” Mumbo replied, initially with a smile himself but found himself meeting Grian’s frown. He waited a few seconds before speaking again. Then, he tapped his fingers on the deepslate. “So...what’re you thinking about?”
“A lot, honestly. It's still the beginning of the season, I’m sure everyone is.” He waved a hand dismissively then looked at Mumbo. “What about you? Have you been thinking about anything?”
Mumbo snorted, attempting to lighten the mood. “Thinking isn’t good for me. I overthink when I do and it hurts my brain.” He paused. “But, if you’d really like to know, I’ve been thinking about the egg.”
This made Grian perk up. “What about it? Do you know where it is?”
The redstoner hesitated. Not yet, he can’t give it up just yet. “What? No, not at all. But, I had a question.”
Grian deflated, then looked away with his chin on his arms, legs tucked to his chest. “Alright, shoot.”
Mumbo’s stomach twisted. “I uh- maybe now isn’t the best time actually. You know, while it’s missing and all.” He cracked a half smile.
“Yeah, while it’s missing,” the builder scoffed. “Just ask me, I’m sure I can answer.”
“Ah- um, sure. Why...why is the egg so special to you? I understand sentimentality, but it just seemed more…” He sighed. “I don’t know. I wondered maybe- maybe it uh… did something, you know? You said it was a magical egg. Maybe you could tell me about it?”
He heard a low chuckle from Grian. “It’s just some stupid egg, it’s not magical.”
“I- oh.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that was disappointing for you, wasn’t it,” Grian sneered. The two stopped. Grian pulled his head up and Mumbo furrowed his brows. “Nevermind, I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry. Just stressed.”
Mumbo stood and tightened his jaw, ignoring the builder’s excuse. “You know, you’ve been real onto me about that egg. Why don’t you tell me about that instead or go bother Scar. Every conversation I have with you now is just accusing me of taking it.”
Grian thought back to what Aisling said, then his last thought before he came to the roof. “Because maybe I saw you sneak into my house and steal the egg. And maybe, I don’t know, it’s my stuff.” He stood and faced Mumbo with a finger to the redstoner’s chest. “And maybe it’s because you are an insanely terrible liar.”
The other was at a loss for words, opening his mouth then clamping it shut repeatedly. The tips of his ears reddened in embarrassment. Of course Grian probably saw him take it, anyone could’ve. But why didn’t he say anything before? Satisfaction? Did he want Mumbo to just admit to it?
It didn’t matter now, the jig was up and all of his plans for the egg were now down the drain.
“I- I’m sorry,” was all he could muster. “I didn’t think it was such a problem.” He looked down at his shoes. “You…have been acting differently since it was gone, I didn’t think I made you mad.”
The avian sighed in relief and put a hand on Mumbo’s shoulder. “I’m not- look at me,” Mumbo lifted his head, “I’m not mad. Really, I’m not. A little annoyed, maybe, but not mad.”
“But you just scolded me like a toddler!” The redstoner whined.
Grian laughed. “Because you have to do that when a toddler lies to you. But, I’m not angry at you, at Scar, or anyone else. I want to tell you why that egg is important, I do, but it’s not the time for that, yet.” He patted his friend’s shoulder. It was clear Mumbo had more questions but decided to avoid them. “So, where is it?”
“Ah- well, I should warn you first about something.” Grian’s eyes widened. “No, no! Nothing happened to it! But um- well, it’s not ‘just some stupid egg’, it’s one seriously powerful egg, dude. What kind of dragon did you fight?!”
“...Excuse me?”
“Yeah! It powered two of my farms at once, did this huge explosion thing with a bunch of lightning, and it was awesome, but the egg-”
Grian took a hold of Mumbo’s shoulders roughly. “Mumbo, did it do anything to you.” The builder was suddenly very serious, as if Mumbo would die if he said yes.
So, of course he lied. “No? I was well away from it.” Grian let go and crossed his arms with a raised brow. “I was! I ran away because I obviously didn’t want to die.”
The other sighed. “Good, I need it now, then.”
Mumbo pulled it from his inventory, hesitating to give it back. Then, he put it in Grian’s outstretched palm. With nothing more to say, he waved goodbye and glided back to his van. Grian watched as he did and once the van’s door slid shut, he looked down at the egg. While he inspected the egg, he noticed a new detail to its shell that made his stomach sink.
A cursive two letter initial, MJ.
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deadontheinsidebut · 4 years
Note
Hi!! Could I please request HCs of Denki, Kirishima, Denki, and Sero of how they would react if they came home after practice to find y/n dancing and singing in the kitchen? Please make it as sweet and fluffy as you're comfortable with! Thank you so so much!
THIS IS THE CUTEST REQUEST EVER AHHHH thank you so so much for sending it in hehe and thank you for being so sweet about it💘
—MHA boys coming home to see s/o dancing + singing in the kitchen
Denki x fem!reader, Kirishima x fem!reader, Sero x fem!reader
FLUFFYYYY PLS READ AHA
My @millie-mint wrote smt similar for HQ hehe check it out bebs
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Aizawa pushed Denki’s electrification to the limit today and he was on the verge of going into his dumb state when he hears the soft sound of humming coming from the other side of the door and the tangy aroma of burger patties in the air, his favourite
He’s led to the kitchen where he sees you twirling around with a spatula in hand and a stupid grin on your face
He just stares at you for a couple more minutes in awe before you notice his presence
“Hello my electric love,” you say, pulling him towards you to join in the dance
And it was like you placed a magical spell on him when all his tiredness disappeared
“SPIN MEE,” you exclaim and Denki obliges, laughing and twirling you around before dipping you dramatically
The smell of burning meat wafted through the air and the two of you are screaming as you turn off the stove and open all the windows
After 10 minutes of full panic, the two of you are panting and sitting beside each other on the floor, leaning towards each for comfort
“Im sorry that we won’t be able to have hamburgers today. I know you’ve been working hard and they’re your favourite,” you frown
He kisses your cheek and then your forehead before planting one on your lips
“It’s okay, as long as I have you it’ll be fine.”
“Cheeeeesyyyyy” you respond and the two of you giggle at tonight’s silly antics
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He’s trudging home and he hears a familiar song... your song... coming from the house
And surprise surprise, there you were dancing with yourself to the song that played on you and Sero’s one year anniversary
He’s a sneaky little one as he uses his tape to wrap around your waist and pull you towards him
“You didn’t think you could dance to our song without me did you?” Sero asks, preparing to slow dance with you
“I knew you were coming home soon and I missed you,” you respond in the quietest of whispers
And now the two of you are stumbling over each other’s feet and snorting through laughter as he flies you through the air with his tape
“This is one of the reasons that made loving you so easy.”
“Are you saying it’s not easy to love me anymore?” Sero jokes back
You pinch his nose before turning back to the stove and he places his hands back on your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder and sways with you as he lets you cook
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Kirishima’s muscles were extremely sore from overusing them today at practice and wanted nothing more than to go home and see you
And his wish came true when he saw your beautiful face skipping about in the kitchen flipping pancakes at 4pm
You immediately stop doing what you were doing to run up to your boyfriend and latch onto his neck
He had just enough energy left in his body to hoist you up on his waist
“Hello pretty girl,” Kirishima says
You nuzzle your nose into the crook of his neck and he walks over to the chair to place you down
You make the grabby hands at him and he thinks you want to hold hands but when he links hands with yours, you’ll pull him down and switch spots with him leaving him in the chair
He’s eyeing you suspiciously but when your hands make their way to his shoulders, massaging them in that way you do, he relaxes
“Rough day, huh?” You ask your boyfriend
“Mmm” he hums in response, easing into your touch
You pat his head after a few more minutes of massaging and make your way back to your cold pancake batter and your half finished pancake
“HEY!! That’s not enough,” he whines as he makes his way towards you
You take this opportunity to smear batter on his nose and he’s shocked for a moment before going “OH IT’S ON NOW” and chases you around the kitchen
You shriek before trying to make your escape from your very strong boyfriend
It was safe to say that the night was one of the best you both have had in a really long time
BNHA Taglist: (send an ask/comment/msg to be added!)
@mrs-kuroojinguji @koushisun @katsushimaa @stcrryskies @animatedarchives @mochiimii @softieshoto @shoyosun @spicyness @sstardusty @kenmakodzu
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serosbows · 4 years
Text
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Cloud Nine
word count: 2k+
——————— sero hanta x gn! Reader———————
Sero spontaneously decides to let the bakusquad know you guys are dating during a smoke sesh. His boldness seems to be contagious what could possibly go wrong?
WARNINGS: 18+, recreational drug use, cannabis use, drug paraphernalia, swearing, suggestive themes
I understand that not all individuals are comfortable with the idea of smoking/ cannabis use I will be putting out more fics for you guys to read!
Minors do not interact!
Also- goes without saying this fic in no way is me condoning illegal activities. y’all stay safe and be responsible
I’m really sorry for any grammar/spelling errors, I am dyslexic n words be hard
Thank you for your support! Again please read at your discretion. <3
——————————————————————————
Friday nights.
The nights you and the Bakusquad would spend in Seros room winding down from the strenuous week of training, the smell of cannabis thick in the hotboxed room.
You’re not sure how you’ve always ended up in this situation, knee to knee with Sero as you work on breaking up the batch of the sticky green plant that Kaminari swore “was the best shit” he bought. Yet, here you find yourself working in tandem with the raven-haired boy as you hum along to some song he has going on his phone.
“Can you hurry it up already?! I want to get this party started”, Kaminari whined as he watched your fingers impatiently. “This takes time and precision,” you retort back, “respect the craft for a second!”
Leaning back on his hands, Kaminari pouted and looked over at Kirishima who was fiddling with the many empty chip bags scattered around him and Mina. “Don’t look at me, dude! Just wait patiently! We all know Y/N rolls best”, Kirishima chirped.
As if the man got shot point-blank in the heart with a revolver, Sero clutched his chest with an exaggerated gasp, “how DARE YOU”, he seethed at Kirishima who bashfully shrugged. “You would pick Y/N’s rolling over mine?!” Sero yelled, shoving an accusatory finger towards you. Kirishima whistled in what was his attempt to be nonchalant, trying to avoid any further questioning from the now “big angy Sero”. (as you have come to call the puffed out cheeks and pouting lips he is now showing off).
Since this ritual started, you and Sero have found comfortable solace in each other. The calming, open nature of the tape boy had you falling head over heels for him faster than you could realize.
Luckily for you- he felt the same way.
The night he asked you out was forever engraved into your mind, the thought forming a smile on your face anytime you recalled the event.
The bakusquad had just packed it up, deciding to call it an early night, leaving you and Sero alone to continue the smoke sesh on Sero’s plush bed.
You remember that when he started arguing with you about how long you took to prepare the blunt for smoking, the sultry tone in Seros voice began to show. The sudden change had you realizing how thick the air around you two seemed to be.
“Bet I could do better in less time”, Sero said smugly, leaning into you. His movement had you adverting your eyes from your fingers and upwards, the movement leaving Sero’s nose only a few inches from yours. “W-What?”, you choke out, unsure if you heard him right.
His proximity had you inhaling his scent. Was it lemon? No. It couldn’t be, you deduced, it’s not as potent as a lemon, but it sure was some sort of citrus. Sero leaned back, pulling away from you. “I’m just saying. You take forever to roll sweets,” he said shrugging his shoulders.
You hurriedly collect yourself, attributing your absent-mindedness to Seros intoxicating scent. Shaking your head to come back to reality, you resume rolling the blunt. Sero almost worried about your silence, shifts worriedly.
When you looked up at him through your eyelashes, your fingers holding the almost rolled creation delicately, a sly smirk on your lips he was sure he was sent to heaven.
Sero was only brought out of his trance-like state when you groaned and laughed, “Okayyyyy~ sure. Whatever you say Hanta!” you said, adding an exaggerated eye roll for emphasis. “You know everyone prefers when I roll, you just get salty about it.”, you continued as you looked up at him once again, licking the paper of the blunt.
The way your tongue darted out to lick the paper in such precise little stokes had Sero losing his mind. Sure he thought you were attractive, but right now, the way you were looking up at him through you pretty lashes with your tongue out had him going nearly feral.
Trying to contain himself and his sudden change in body temperature, he retorted, “Hey! That's not true they just say that to be nice!” He proceeds to try and put on an angry face, puffing out his cheeks and pouting, scrunching his eyebrows for good measure.
“Awe~” you cooed looking at the literal baby in front of you. “Don’t get all worked up now big angy Sero! You know you LOVE when I roll.”, you said as you took the first hit of your creation.
The smoke filled your lungs with a pleasant heat, the high you originally had become more pronounced. Before you could blow out the stagnant smoke in your mouth, Sero grabbed your face with his hand, placing his lips on you with ferocity.
Your eyes widened. Was he trying to shotgun with you?? The smoke poured out of your mouth and into his, your body beginning to go slack as you finally fell into the smoke filled kiss.
You don’t know when you closed your eyes but they opened as Sero pulled away, blowing the smoke back in your face with a small chuckle.
You let out a few coughs and swatted away the smoke clouding your field of vision. When the cloud cleared, you were met with a red-faced Sero.
“I,,, Uh,,, I-I’m not sure why I did that….I’m so sorry.” Sero rambled on, trying anything he could in his power not to make eye contact with you.
You leaped at this cliche moment, pushing Sero back on his bed and straddling his waist. His hands instinctively landed on your hips. He looked up at you with wide eyes, unsure of what to do at this moment.
In a quick motion, you held the hand with the blunt in it behind you and leaned down to kiss Sero. The kiss left your body feeling weightless, your lips molding with his perfectly. His hands resting at your hips, giving them a light squeeze before his thumbs began to trace light circles on the skin over your shirt.
“‘Bout time you made a move Sero”, you said smirking down at him as you pulled away. “Hanta”, he corrected, “you’re mine now mi amor.”. Sero smiled and pushed himself up to place a light kiss on your forehead.
You let out a small chuckle, using your free hand to cup his face. “Then prove it…” you purred. The smirk on Seros face had you quivering with anticipation, a new wave of heat taking over your body.
Needless to say, the blunt was stamped out and you thanked every higher power in existence that no one found it odd that you were wearing Seros hoodie as the exchange in clothes between you two was common.
That night you came to the conclusion that it was tangerine and cinnamon, Sero smelled like tangerine and cinnamon. A scent that you would come to be addicted to.
If it wasn’t for the hoodie, the bakusquad would have for sure seen the many marks Sero had left on you so he could properly mark you as his.
When you came back from your flashback the rest of the group seemed to blur into the background as you focused on filling the blunt, eyes trained in on making everything even. In your peripheral vision, a certain raven-haired boy could be seen inching closer towards your face.
“Can I help you?” you said with a smirk, not looking up from your activities. “No, no, don’t mind me. Keep doing what you’re doing. You look so pretty when you’re rolling baby~”, Sero said in a low sing-song voice that only you could hear.
Your hand movements halted immediately and your eyes widened.
Sero hasn't called you anything like that in front of anyone??? You enjoyed hearing the pet name come from his mouth, yes, however, you two have yet to make your relationship public.
“Sero…”, you warned, “you cant be distracting me right now.” Sero seemed to pay no mind to your words, coming in closer and placing a hand on your thigh. “At this point, I don’t care, sweets, we’ve been dating for... what? 4 Months now?”
A hand grabbing your chin startled you. Sero moved your face so he could make direct eye contact with you, his thumb runs across your lower lip, “let them know.” The devilish smirk on Seros face made your stomach drop. “Come on, you know what to do”, He whispered. You nodded and took his thumb in your mouth. Sero nodded in appreciation and basked in the feeling of your tongue running around his finger.
He pulls his thumb out of your mouth when he hears Bakugou yelling. “I TOLD YOU SHITS I WASNT THE IMPOSTER”, you look over to see everyone look up from their phones, thankful that among us kept the bakusquad from seeing the previous encounter with you and Sero.
“That means its Kaminari or Sero then because I was in electrical.” Sero furrowed his eyebrows, “What, I was AFK- yall SAW me breaking up the weed” he yelled. Kaminari huffed, “You know its not me!! All of you SAW me do the med bay scan.”
You, having been killed off the first round watched as a smirk formed on Mina’s face, rolling your eyes at her obvious lies that Bakugou and Kirishima have seemed to buy due to the accusatory looks being thrown their way.
As the common ‘defeat’ sound rand out, you began to lick the paper of the blunt, your fingers working deliberately to make the best creation you can.
“Yeah!! Lick that shit baby. You look so good doing it. I know what else that mouth can do” Sero yelled, you flinched a little, unsure how the bakusquad would react but if Sero was being bold you might as well join.
A spitting sound was heard next to you as Bakugou whipped his head towards Sero. “BRO!!! DONT GET THE SHIT WET!” Kaminari yelled as he grabbed the open bag of weed that was nearly ruined by Bakugou’s spit.
“What the fuck did you just say?!” Bakugou yelled. “I think you heard me. I didn’t stutter. Plus I’m just praising my baby!”
“WOAH, WAIT! WHEN?!” Mina squealed.
“Sero got a date before me?!?!” Kaminari whined.
“You’re joking,” Kirishima said
You worked to silence the group, “First of all…” you started, “Sero.. you said that shit in front of my blunt bro...Disrespectful as FUCK. Second of all yes, we’re dating, we have been for 4 months.”
“5 on the 14th!” Sero continued as he placed a hand on your head, messing up your hair.
You laughed and shook him off, flattening out the hair Sero just ruined. “Yeah yeah…. Now give me a kisth” you said while looking over at Sero who happily obliged.
The kiss was quick but it left you weightless. Pulling away, Sero began to move you around. “What are you doing??” you said as you took another hit of the blunt. “You just sit here.” He said as he placed you between his legs, his arms coming to wrap around you, his chin resting on your head. “I want to hold my precious baby”
The softness in his voice would have the rest of the bakusquad thinking Sero was just trying to be cute and show affection. You would have thought the same thing if it wasn’t for the evident hard-on pressing into your back.
You smirked, an idea coming into your head. Passing the blunt to Bakugou, you placed both hands in your hoodie pocket. In one smooth movement, you gripped the left sleeve with your right hand and inched your left arm out of its cozy confinement.
Lightly dropping your arm to your side under the hoodie, you slipped your hand behind your back. Dropping your head back on Seros shoulder and turning your nose to graze it across his neck. “You keep quiet and maybe ill help you with your problem, yeah?” You whispered as you began to run your hand over the tent in his pants.
Seros breathing hitched, his grip on you tightening. He didn’t stop you however, the feeling of your fingertips grazing the skin above his pants and slowly dipping under his waistband had him intoxicated.
He just hoped he could follow your orders and keep quiet.
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anayaahwrites · 3 years
Text
KOT Ficlet #5 (Momoya Natsu/ Yoshinaga Atsumu)
When the lights start flashing like a photo booth (And the stars exploding, we'll be fireproof.)
Warning: Themes of underage drinking and implied sexual content.
Natsu roughly based on this art by @sasukeslove
A small AU on MomoYoshi's first meeting:
...
Natsu is six when he learns about Angels.
He’s perched on mama’s lap, carrying a new storybook with tiny hands and slowly pronouncing all the words. Her proud smile encourages him to read the larger words too, the ones he’d avoid out of embarrassment—something about a pro-fe-cky and a pro-mice that He exists up there somewhere, over the pillowy clouds watching down on them.
Mama tucks him in that night and tells Natsu to close his eyes and pray because Angels only come to good boys.
He’s ten when it all sounds like bullshit to him.
Over the years, Mom’s rosy smile had withered into a fatigued sigh, a cry for help to the God that never answers no matter how much they pray. Dad was more a guest than a resident. He came around once in a while to eat lunch—with a taut smile plastered eerily over his smooth features—and swiftly vanish to not return in that week .
They’ve stopped waiting for him and Natsu stops asking questions.
He’s thirteen when he meets Sei, a child around his age, except so much more charming and calm and composed for someone that carried half the same set of genes Natsu had. He learns of his father’s betrayal and is honestly shocked at his own lack of surprise. Still, he questions his God and why why why would He let mom’s heart shatter like that?
Sei is quick to laugh and tell him that God doesn’t exist and mom is just a victim to their monster of a father.
So he goes home that day to his outraged mother, hair coloured like glittery Christmas tinsel and sapphire lenses replacing his usual shade of honey brown. She snaps at the sight, yelling at him till her throat closes up, till nothing but a harsh sob escapes her and he lets her. They both had to cope somehow.
By the fall of his fourteenth year, he gets pierced four times and stops talking to his mother almost completely.
To hell with dad. To hell with God.
Natsu is fifteen, and he doesn’t care about anything anymore.
He’s fifteen and quickly realising from his daily job as a guitarist in the club that girls aren't attractive no matter how much they flock around him. He still humours them sometimes, a touch here, a kiss there since the pay is good enough for him to add some extra service on his part.
Mom plies herself with work as often as possible, to douse her misery in the decayed scent of piled papers and clunking keyboards. She leaves Natsu to deal with everything else on his own like the obedient son he is, letting him go like dad left her.
Natsu is alright, though. He’s done this far longer than she knows.
He stops reaching out to her, stops talking to someone up in the skies, settling instead to live a tranquil life in the shadows, under the dependable shade of music. He hates people. He hates the world.
Natsu is basking in the warmth of another uneventful day in the club, when in walks a boy out of fucking nowhere and his entire world tips on its axis.
The boy takes shaky, wary steps as if he were balancing on a trapeze. Dark black bangs like thick black rain spill over the side of his face, half covering wide brown eyes. Splotches of pink and porcelain white stick out where his sweater ends and skin begins. He’s small and delicate and beautiful, Natsu’s heart skips a beat. Or two. Or maybe three.
And why should he lie? Natsu has seen beautiful, quite a few varieties of it too. But this…this was different. This was unreal.
The boy looks around nervously before he catches something and there’s a spark in those hazel eyes, sharp and electric, a smile tugging at his lips.
Natsu follows his gaze. On the stage lies his own guitar—a pre-performance habit for people to know he was next. He took great pride because this itself garnered more clusters than anyone in the entire house.
Natsu smiles. So he was a fan.
He downs the customary shot of vodka, waving at the people before hopping on stage and wrapping the sling around his neck. He scours the audience for a familiar face and it doesn’t take a lot, to spot a splatter of ink black in the crowd, batting eager eyelids at him. The smaller boy realises the attention on him and glances behind to confirm his suspicion.
By the time he swings around, eyes blown wide in a stare, Natsu plays the first chord.
In an instant, his expression shifts to a mix of awe and interest, a silent worship and a loud cheer compiled in one small, thin body. He claps more than anyone else in the room, beaming like a floodlight by the time Natsu finishes.
It was nothing strange. He played among cheers every day but none felt as satisfying with this voice hooting and clearly standing out from his regular gang of squealing girls. He throws his head back laughing back stage when no one is there to see.
By the time Natsu gets out on the floor again, a little more thrilled for the night and dressed in something less flashy, he’s gone. He screws his lips in displeasure and asks his friend to make him something stronger than the usual.
This happens more nights than not, and it was frustrating him.
The moment Angel boy—as he’s dubbed him, steps in through the door, Natsu traces his every move and quickly registers a pattern. He only comes around on days the club was the busiest—specifically during Natsu’s performance, talks to no one and leaves before he has the chance to even ask a name.
Not that Natsu was interested in him or anything. He was just curious, is all—why this boy looked like a starved pet every time he saw him on stage and if he really smelled like soft winter blankets and warm fireplaces, all angelic and pure.
Okay, so maybe he was a little interested.
Months pass like that.
The mid-November chill comes with its blistering snowstorms and the club is jam packed—winters were some of their busiest months—and Natsu’s up to perform. Instead of preparing, he watches the door resolutely from the bar, tapping impatiently at the table.
As routine, it barely opens a crack, and he sees a sliver of ebony snaking it’s way through the crowd. The boy stands on his tippy-toes which don’t give him much of a view, so he does these tiny jumps—that are so adorable, for a second Natsu forgets his own name—and scowls when he notices no guitar on stage.
He checks the time, the stage and then scans the crowd. The anticipation throbs through Natsu as he follows his eyes cross the room in slow motion, dragging dragging until they eventually land on him. Everything stills—the thundering music, the singing and all he can hear is the low thump of veins against his skin.
It’s over in a flash.
“That your Angel boy?” The bartender gestures at the figure turning tail and running, drying the pad on his prized work station. He skillfully pours two coloured liquids into an oddly shaped glass and passes it over the counter to him.
Natsu hums, swirling the absinthe stained drink in hand, eyeing the smaller boy gasp as a couple slams against the door, clearly piss drunk with her suspended over his thighs and gyrating her hips into the man.
“Hey, chief.”
“Hm?”
“You think I can get off early tonight?”
The man raises an eyebrow. “Like when?”
“Like now.” Natsu answers, never letting his gaze falter from the head full of black hair slowly receding through the crowd, horrified.
The man guffaws, lifting a glass of water—since he can’t drink on duty—and clinking it with Natsu’s.
“Must be fuckin’ Christmas if you’re taking interest in anyone, so I’ll let this one pass. Don’t scare him off now. He already looks like a trembling lamb.”
Natsu knocks back the contents, swallowing the liquid till it numbs his entire mouth and smirks.
“I’ll try.”
So he follows the boy. Hands are immediately all over him from faces he recognises in passing—a girl he once kissed, someone that made him cake, but he pushes them off.
His boy of interest forces the hood of his shirt up all the way, and glances behind him once before increasing his pace. Maybe the lights are really getting to him and maybe Natsu is a little tipsy when he reaches out to grab his hand.
The boy flips around to lock eyes frantically, as if a ghost had seized him.
“Hey.” Natsu musters his sweetest smile.
“Hi..” The boy replies.
And oh, his voice. It’s sugary sweet and so so soft like—like actual rolls of smooth and silky cotton had woven them. He blushes fiercely under Natsu’s relentless gaze and stares where their hands were connected in a tight grip as if it burned holes through him.
Natsu frowns. “Don’t run.”
The boy’s gaze shoots up, and he’s pulling away.
“I-I’m sorry I really h-have to go—”
“It’s my birthday.” Goddamn, he must be really wasted to admit that. Now that he thinks about it, what did he just drink?
Twentieth November, the day he was born and incidentally also the day he found his father’s tongue down another woman’s throat, holding a child over his shoulder.
“Oh,” The boy stops, pursing his lips and letting the hood go all the way down before flashing easily one of the most ethereal smiles Natsu has ever seen.
“Happy birthday.”
“Thanks,” he replies awkwardly. “It’s not going really well.”
“No?”
Natsu nods. “It’s nothing different.”
“You want it to be special?”
The buzz in his nerves practically screamed a yes to that—he wanted something to remember, to bury the horrible memories he associated with this day, for the days he wished he was never born in the first place. He wanted to fit it all in this one boy in one night, this angel he didn’t even know, to free him from himself.
Natsu tightens his grip. “Dance with me?”
Oh boy, the alcohol was talking.
Angel boy looks at Natsu with wide doe eyes, peers back at their hands and gulps. Natsu frowns and releases his hold. He was drunk, probably a little more than he’d admit to, but he didn’t want to pressurize anyone—not when this boy already looked so out of his element, a beige hoodie and skinny jeans in a club full of scantily clad folk.
But he reverses the roles, grabbing Natsu by the fingers so delicately, he releases a soft hum of satisfaction. He rubs fingers between his own, feeling the brush of calloused fingertips on them. It reminds him of mom’s soft chest rising and falling when she slept beside him because he was her ‘perfect little angel’ and made him feel safe.
He misses it. Misses being safe. Misses being loved.
“Okay,” the boy mumbles, peering from under his natural hood of hair with a light smile. “Okay. Let’s dance.”
Natsu doesn’t really know what he’s doing anymore. The lights blink and they’re suddenly in stop motion. It tricks his brain into thinking of them as pictures trapped some place in his brain forever. So he stares and stares and captures the blush spreading like wildfire across the boy’s face, a smile widening in tandem with the soft beats.
They’re two faces among a thousand on a random winter night. The music isn’t his type nor is his attire anything to be proud of. But this boy. Holy heavens, if he isn’t the prettiest thing ever then the stars should be ashamed because damn, he’d beat them even on a bad day.
His hair sways—a steady swing of left right left right and a pleasant smile sits snug on his features like that’s where they belonged, that’s where they had always belonged and Natsu closes his eyes when their hands meet again.
This is perfect.
It’s when the music stills that they transition to a slower lull of movement, and the blaze of liquor in his blood emboldens him into yanking the boy a little closer. He lets him fall with a small plop on his chest and laughs when he rubs his nose, scowling.
“Why do you never wait back?” He asks, exhaling at the warmth the boy’s presence brings. Natsu puts his hand around his waist and he swears, it was like he wasn’t human, like someone had sculpted him out of clay, moulded to near perfection. And maybe he’s treading into dangerous waters, but his mouth had a mind of its own and there’s nothing he could do to stop it.
“I always look for you after I’m done but you’re never here.”
Pair of hazelnut eyes sheepishly peer at him.
“I’m sorry. I’m just.… not good at socializing.”
“So you say,” Natsu laughs, “But you’re doing better than me.”
“No way!”
“Yes way.”
“You have to be kidding me you’re so cool—and and so beautiful I really cannot—since the beginning I haven’t been able to take my eyes off—”
He squeaks when he's dragged closer by the small of his back. Their eyes meet. Natsu sees flashes of every happy moment of his life mirrored in them; His first recital, mom’s naturally loud laugh, the first time he played the guitar. They reach into Natsu’s soul and drag out his joy like the reel of a kite.
“I thought you were an angel,” he chuckles so close, he feels the boy shiver against his cheek. “I still do. Everyone here calls you Angel boy. Score a drink from them with that name sometime. I’m sure they’ll oblige you.”
“Angel? I—” He breathes a giggle, twisting silver strands with his fingers. “If there’s any angel here, it’s you.”
But this is fake, he wants to say. It’s fake, artificial, made of desperation because he never wants to look into the mirror and see his father’s face staring back at him. He won’t be him. He won’t.
“Atsumu,” he says. “My name is Atsumu.”
“Atsumu.” Natsu repeats in his head till it rolls naturally over his tongue. Like Atsu meaning heat and summer and everything bright and cheery.
Natsu purposefully lingers near his ear, to breathe his name in the air, smiling, content.
“ ‘Tsumu. It’s cute,” he hums. “You’re cute.”
“Are you drunk?”
“Definitely.” He chuckles.
Atsumu whispers, low and uneasy. “C-can I ask you something?”
“Mhmm.” At this point, his voice gave him a greater high than the drink he had downed fifteen minutes ago. Or was it an hour? He couldn’t really tell and decided very quickly he didn’t care, anyway.
“Why don’t you.. come to school?”
Natsu’s eyes open a crack to glimpse at the boy who trembles softly under him, as if he were admitting to a crime.
“I—” he continues in alarm, “I swear I’m not a stalker I just—Oh my god please don’t misunderstand me—”
“Calm down.” Natsu shushes, smiling apologetically at the few people around him that had been torn out of their aggressive make-out session as if they weren’t the ones that needed a room. God, if he sees another dick hanging out, he’ll have to bust out the chainsaw in the basement and go wild.
“So,” he leads them to a quieter corner with very few people and lesser eyes their way. “School,” he waves a hand dismissively, “It’s boring. Lots of people. Annoying questions. You know the drill.”
“Right,” he gulps. “Right so, I’m uhh—in your class I don’t think you noticed and I’m from an instrument club and someone asked us a question. Something about erotic sounds—wait that sounds bad—not erotic erotic but.…Ah, I’m bad at explaining.”
Natsu doesn’t keep back the dreamy giggle that leaves him, swaying lightly to the music. He’s exactly as he imagined—hell, even his name was spot on—all warm and giggly and fluttery.
“I’m still listening,” Natsu smiles. “Go on.”
Atsumu scrunches his nose and continues. “So one of my club seniors—he comes of a little rough but he’s really nice—went to one of my other seniors house who I think he really likes, and her mother told him it’s—I’m sorry am I too confusing?”
“I think I can manage.”
“Okay, so basically, her mother says it’s the pause in between his words and actions. The space that is just…there. And so I was writing about it—because I write everything—and Oka-kun saw my book.”
Natsu scowls. “Oka is annoying like that.”
The boy giggles this time. “Funny. He said you’d say that.”
“It’d be nice if he attempted to change it, then.”
“And so he told me you play music, where you work and that maybe you could do something good for once—I didn’t say that he did—So…” He moves his hand vaguely around them. “Here I am.”
Natsu hums against his head, bringing him to a slower pace as the song changes.
“I’ll have to thank him for that.”
“You’re not..angry?” He says through furrowed brows. “Oka-kun said you would be if you found out.”
He’s certain if Oka showed up here uninvited, Natsu would promptly kick him out. Because Oka is annoying. Atsumu however….
“So? Did you get your answer?” He asks instead.
The smaller boy makes a face, pulling all his features in to make his button nose stand out more than it already does and pout.
Natsu laughs. He’s been doing a lot of that today. Laughing.
“I’ll take that as a no.”
“Don’t get me wrong! Your performances are splendid and I really can’t get enough of them but the answer…I still haven’t reached a conclusion.”
Natsu plays with the fingers in his hand, shuffling to let them sink into the gap between his. Atsumu stares and responds by shyly tucking his fingers in.
“Want me to help you?” He whispers, tapping the side of Atsumu’s waist with his other hand.
“Can you?” He whispers back.
Can he? Yes. Should he? Probably not.
But what use is logic anyway, when a boy the embodiment of a sunny summer day amid a bitter winter stood enclosed in his arms?
Yeah. To hell with logic.
Natsu sways his hips, raking his free hand through Atsumu’s hair. He releases a pleased sigh when the tiny fingers between his tighten as if it were the only thing anchoring him to reality, which was good. Natsu felt the same, like his sanity was slowly slipping through open fingers.
“Spaces…exist everywhere. In words, in voices, in time…” He draws their joined hands to his mouth, dragging wet lips over porcelain skin. Atsumu shudders, breathing in sharp, shallow exhales.
“These hands..there’s a space in between them too if you look carefully. We’re so close,” fingers tighten around his shirt. “But still never close enough.
He runs a palm down the boy’s face that angles and angles till plush, red lips are within kissing distance. They part and blow warm clouds of air that taste mint and chocolate in his mouth. Natsu smiles. “Space is where there is distance. Space is where there is intimacy. Space is where there is friction. And this exciting gap that keeps us wanting to be closer till not even an atom could squeeze in—” he leans in closer, “—is erotic.”
He backs away while he has the physical capacity to do so, before the alcohol overrides every decision in his head and they end up a tangled mess of limbs in some random hotel room, but Atsumu having none of it.
He pulls Natsu to himself, clutching the pleats of his shirt and tugging him down to his lips. Teeth knock loudly against each other and Natsu hisses lightly, parting to lick the tingle in the tip of his incisor away.
“S-sorry!” Atsumu covers his embarrassment behind shaky hands. Natsu wraps thin fingers under his chin, reeling him in slow and steady and closes the distance. It’s soft, like a snowflake on a tree, virgin snow settling on frozen water and ironically, melts him. It boils and freezes, ignites his soul into a firework of bursting flames. He’s touching, feeling, pulling until every inhale feels like fire in his lungs.
“Closer,” Atsumu murmurs, throwing nimble hands over his shoulder and locking their lips together like puzzle pieces on a gameboard. “Make the space go away.”
It’s chaotic, and it’s magical. Like every star in the galaxy twinkled around them tonight, like every blossoming flower settled wherever Atsumu touched him. He’s drunk on vodka, drunk on happiness, drunk on love.
Closer. Natsu pushes a knee in between his thighs. His mouth hangs open in a silent moan, eyes slowly rolling into the back of his head.
Closer. The hands in his air pull him in for another searing kiss, pressing for entry, to delve deeper, deeper into themselves. Atsumu nibbles lightly on his lip and Natsu lets him bruise him for tonight. To wreck him, destroy him.
Closer.
They settle for a slower casual rhythm when they part to breathe. He keeps them moving on the floor, smiling against a pair of swollen lips.
“School suddenly sounds much more interesting.” He says.
Atsumu squints incredulously. “We can’t do this at school.”
“No?”
“No!”
Natsu shrugs, pecking the tip of the boy’s nose. “Shame.”
“Then you’ll come?” Atsumu bumps his forehead against Natsu’s. “I’ll really see you tomorrow?”
“If you can walk home straight after tonight, then sure.”
Atsumu gasps and slaps him across the back, blushing as they leave the club, hand in hand, away into the wintery night.
Natsu turns sixteen—a little drunk, a lot happy—but he’s sixteen and he can pinpoint this as the day he falls in love even years later.
And every other birthday is insignificant but so much better, spent at home, in the arms of the boy that saved him in just one night, all those years ago.
Mom only ever asks where he’s going and who he’s moving in with while he packs his bags to leave. She frowns when he answers with the widest smile on his face, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“An Angel.”
Ignore the sloppy writing haha. I'm writing this while travelling back home after a god awful six hour exam.
It felt too plotless to post on my ao3 kdkcd—
If you look at the colouring of Natsu I based it on (go give @sasukeslove all the real love), I imagine the art as the morning after when Oka's annoying Natsu and Atsumu walks in through the door (≧▽≦)
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