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vintagestarlight · 10 months

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Massage

Summary: You give Price a massage after he gets back from a particularly hard deployment.

Pairing: John Price x fiancée!reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: mentions of injury(nothing too graphic), light sexual mentions, John Price(because let's be honest this man is a warning okay), fluff, 18+ MDNI

A/N: So Price won by a landslide in the poll😂 here's one of the fics I had planned so I hope yall enjoy! I did right this pretty drunk so apologies if it isn't great

Also, I didn't expect so many people to vote so thank you all so much!😭🫶🏼 Requets are also open!! Feel free to send in whatever you want just make sure it follows my blog rules! I've also got a few more fics in my drafts as well :)

***beware of typos(I tried my best to catch them all)

John turned the ignition off and his truck came to a stop. He looked at the house the two of you shared and smiled as he took in the warm glow coming from the window. Before you came into his life the house was cold and dark; he preferred coming home to this rather than the dark windows he used to. John opened the door and stepped out, wincing as he irritated the bruised muscles. This last deployment was harder than most; although everyone made it back alive, and for that he was thankful, going hand-to-hand with a mercenary ended with the mercenary dead but John fell from a metal walkway grate to the ground below. It resulted in a number of bruises, scratches, and a sprained shoulder.

John lifted his duffle bag out of the back seat and thought about how you would fret over the bruises that blemished his skin. You always checked him when he came home to see if he gained any new scars or broken body parts and he found it endearing. He walked slowly toward the door, his sore body preventing him from going faster. He dug in his pocket for his key and slipped it into the lock before stepping inside. “Love I’m home,” He called out, setting his duffle bag down by the door with a sigh of relief to have the weight off of his injured shoulder; he had a brace that kept him from moving his shoulder but it did nothing for the annoying pain of putting weight on it.

“Back here!” He heard your voice coming from the shared bedroom so he toed off his boots and walked down the hallway. He saw soft light coming from the bathroom and when he walked in he saw something that made his breath catch in his throat. You were in the bathtub with your hair loosely pulled back and sipping on a glass of wine, candles casting a warm illuminating glow. It wasn't anything overly sexual but it still made his face flush; here he was nearing forty and you made him feel like a school boy. “Hey love,” he said, taking in the sight of you before bending down and giving you a kiss. “I’m so glad you’re home,” You said, a heavy weight finally lifting off your chest at seeing your fiancée back in one piece. The black brace over his beige shirt was not lost on you but you didn’t say anything as you decided it was not as bad as it could be. “How’s the bath?” John asked. “You could always join me and find out,” You said, taking a sip of the red wine, looking at him over the rim of the glass. “Now how could I say no to that?” He smirked.

He took off the brace that was nothing but uncomfortable before undoing his belt and stripping off his pants. He slipped off his shirt, wincing as his shoulder twinged, and heard you gasp. “John!” You did your once over to ensure he hadn’t come home severely injured when your eyes landed on the bruises that colored his torso. “What the hell happened?” You asked, wincing when you thought about what could’ve caused such bruises. “If I told you that love, you’d be even more frantic,” He chuckled. “Don’t laugh John!” You chastised. John slipped in behind you after stripping completely, groaning at the warm water, and let you rest against him. “I’m sorry love but don’t freak out too much,” He replied. “They really do look worse than they are,” He added, planting a kiss on your head. He felt you relax more, as if you were afraid of hurting him, and he sighed. The weight of you pressed against him was actually comforting and he wrapped his arms around you. “At least you came home to me alive,” You said. “Just like I promised,” John replied, a long sigh leaving his body.

The two of you just sat there for a little while, your thumb absentmindedly grazing John’s arm; grateful to have your fiancée back. You felt him rest his head on your shoulder and his weary body sagged as he relaxed. You shifted and accidentally pressed your weight on one of John’s bruises and he grunted. “I’m sorry babe!” You said, turning around to sit on his lap carefully trying to avoid the purple-ish tender spots. “Don’t worry I’m tougher than I look,” He joked, running his hands along your sides. “You know,” You started, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I think I know of a way to make you feel better,” You said in a slow voice. “Oh yeah? I think I’m liking where this is going,” John replied, planting a kiss on your nose, then your cheeks, and finally your lips. ‘Hmm… I like the way you think but I was actually thinking about a massage,” You said. “Help those aching muscles,” You offered and smiled as he smirked. “Now that’s a good way to welcome a man home,” he said with a cheeky grin. “Why don’t you go lay on the bed and I’ll dry off and get the oil,” You suggested and stepped out of the tub.

You felt John’s hungry eyes on you and you grinned; John always made you feel desirable even on your worst day. You heard the water splash as John stepped out after pulling the plug, dripping water on the floor. You wrapped yourself in a towel and felt him swat your ass, eliciting a squeal out of you as he laughed. “Don’t take too long,” He said. John also grabbed a towel and quickly dried himself, being mindful of his injuries, and pulled on a clean pair of boxers. You emerged from the bathroom with a bottle of baby oil and saw John lounging on the bed, his pupils blown wide with lust as he watched your towel clad body. “See something you like?” You teased, before dropping the towel leaving you stark naked and John groaned. “I think you should stay like this all the time,” He said, a bit disappointed when you pulled on a bra and panty set. “I suggest you settle down; you’re not exactly in peak condition for sex,” You chuckled. “Come on turn over,” You said, and waited until he was laying on his stomach, arms relaxed.

You got on top of him and straddled his hips, taking notice of the scratches on his back. There were several silver lines across his body from his several years of military service. You had counted every scar on his body countless times so you could always know when he got new ones. But these scratches were new; red and fresh in contrast to the silver healed scars. You squirted a quarter sized amount of baby oil on your hands, rubbed them together, and pressed your hands firmly on John’s back. Using light pressure you began to knead his shoulders, mindful not to press too hard on his injured one, and firmly moved down to his lower back. “Jesus love,” John groaned. John felt himself further relax as you helped ease his aching muscles. You used your thumbs to press into his lower back and rub in small circles before continuing those small circles all the way up his back to his neck.

You loved feeling his skin underneath your hands; the way his muscles rippled when you touched him and it made you feel good that you were able to give him this attention. You heard grunts and moans as you continued to work on his back and shoulders, slowly massaging away the tension that rested in his muscles. You felt your tough military husband become putty under your hands and you couldn't help but grin. “You know I was thinking,” you said, feeling him tense as you needed a particularly large knot at the base of his neck. “What's that love?” He grunted, his voice slurring slightly as your hands slowly lulled him closer to sleep. “I know we had plans to go to that new French place for dinner but maybe we could stay in tomorrow?” You suggested to him. “Maybe just stay in bed and order takeout,” you continued, applying a little more oil onto your hands and rubbing your hands down his arms as he lazily nodded his head. “Would you like that?” You asked. When you didn’t get a response you looked down at his languid form and realized his breathing had become deeper and he started to snore a little. You smiled and slowly got off his back, careful not to wake him, and pulled the covers over him. “Good night John,” you whispered, planting a kiss on his cheek and turning off the lamp before climbing in bed next to him. You soon fell asleep and slept better than you had in months.

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libraryofgage · 9 months

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A Place Like Steve in a Boy Like This (2)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two (you're here!) Harley Quinn One 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedidiah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) (I also have plans for this one actually they just need to simmer a little lmao)

Hi welcome back to my Mummy Crossover where Steve's parents are Rick and Evelyn O'Connell this took forever bcuz the words didn't want to word correctly lmao

Anyway, here we are! Some interactions, some more insight on all of Steve's talents, a teensy bit of chaos killed before it could flourish. What more could you want?

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

--------

"Breathe in."

Steve slowly inhales, keeping his chest and arms steady.

"Now pull as you breathe out."

Steve steadily exhales, squeezing the trigger as he does, and feeling the gun kick in his hand. Several yards away, a tin can that's little more than a speck in the distance topples to the ground.

Before Steve can realize his aim was good, the gun is plucked from his hand and he's lifted into the air. Weightlessness overwhelms him, and he shrieks with delight as he falls back into his father's arms. "That's my boy!" his father says, tossing him into the air again.

"Oh, do be careful, Rick. He broke an arm the last time you threw him around like that," Steve's mother says, a proud smile tugging at her lips despite her words.

Steve finds himself safely held in his father's arms a second later, his heart racing and his breaths short from exhilaration. "Again! Again!" he shouts, looking up at his father hopefully.

"Sorry, kiddo, you heard your mother," his father says, messing up Steve's hair before lifting him onto his shoulders. Steve grips his father's hair tightly, grinning as his father jogs over to the tin can. "You'll be able to shoot running in no time."

"Am I gonna be as good as you?" Steve asks, leaning over his father's head. "How long will that take?"

"You'll be better than me, Steve. It'll take a few years, though. At least one hundred."

"One hundred?! I'm gonna be bones by then! Dust and bones!"

"Nah, you'll be fine," his father says, waving his hand dismissively.

"I'll be dead!"

"In my experience, the dead don't make a habit of staying that way."

Steve huffs and rolls his eyes, pinching his father's cheeks and tugging on them until he laughs, grabs Steve's hand, and playfully bites his fingers. Steve shrieks again, laughing as he tugs his hand away and yanks on a few strands of his father's hair for revenge.

------

Steve, Max, and Eddie get discharged within days of each other, and even though Steve was expecting his house to be invaded by his friends, he still finds himself wishing he'd had a few more days with his parents before everyone showed up and started interrogating him. In fact, he almost considers ignoring the doorbell when it rings the day after Max is discharged.

"Steve!" Rick shouts, his voice carrying all the way from his carefully maintained weapons room. "Can you get that?"

"Can't put it off any longer," Robin says, grinning at him from her spot on the couch. She stretches out her leg and nudges Steve's thigh, urging him to get up.

He sighs, pushing himself off the couch and grimacing at the slight tug on his sides. "Got it," he calls back, walking to the door and bracing himself before opening it.

The porch is packed with his friends, Dustin and Eddie at the very front. "Finally!" Dustin says, pushing past Steve to get into the house.

Everyone else streams in after him, and Steve ends up just holding the door. "Yeah, welcome in, make yourselves at home, thanks so much for calling before showing up," he mutters, closing the door after the final person, Will, has walked inside.

He follows after them, relieved they filter into the living room instead of heading to the kitchen. Uncle Jonathan has been in there all day, trying his hand at a new gin brewing technique that makes Steve's head spin just thinking about it.

Steve flops onto the couch next to Robin, dropping his head onto her shoulder. Dustin looks ready to speak, and Steve is ready to pretend he's listening, when his mother walks into the room. She looks around with a concerned frown, her fingers covering her mouth and tapping against her lips. "Steve," she says, her voice slightly distracted, "dónde está el machete de tu papá?"

"En el garaje," he replies, waving off her thanks.

"You speak Spanish?" Max asks, glancing at Evelyn as she walks past her to reach the garage.

"I speak several languages," Steve tells her. He feels the couch shift next to him and looks over to see Will scooting over to make room for Eddie. "Spanish, Hebrew, Arabic, Egyptian, French, Greek, a little Urdu, but that one is rusty."

"Holy shit," Mike says, staring at Steve like he's shapeshifted into an alien, "you're smart?!"

"Wait, is that how you guys cracked the Russian code so quickly?" Dustin asks. "Why did you make Robin learn Russian if you already knew it?"

"I didn't make Robin do anything. She started learning while I called a guy I know who can speak Russian. He only managed to get back to me the same day Robin got the whole thing translated."

"You know a guy who can speak Russian?" Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow at Steve when he glances over.

Steve shrugs. "I know a lot of guys who know a lot of things. I met all of them while traveling with my parents," he explains.

"Where have you been?" Will asks.

"Every continent except Antarctica. More places than I can count, actually."

"Why did you travel so much?" El asks, her gaze drifting toward the mantle where several of his mother's souvenirs are carefully arranged. "Did those come from your travels?"

"I followed my parents while they worked until high school. And yeah, those are souvenirs, you can pick them up, but be careful."

As though the lack of permission was the only thing holding her back, Max jumps up and hurries over to the mantle, pulling down a small jar and turning it over in her hands. Its lid is shaped like the head of Anubis, and Steve is just realizing what she's picked up when his father walks into the room.

Rick stops, stares at the jar in Max's hand, and then marches over to her, a man on a mission. He swipes the jar, ignoring Max's shout in protest, and looks it over carefully. His expression becomes disbelieving, fond, and annoyed all at once. "Evie!" he shouts, turning around and about to go looking for her when she appears in the doorway.

"No need to shout, dear, I was just in the other room," she says, smiling until she sees the jar he's holding.

Her expression says it all, but Rick still holds the jar up, smiles sweetly at her, and asks lightly, "Evie, darling, is this what I think it is?"

"Well," Evelyn says, rolling her shoulders back in a way that tells Steve they're about to argue. And then start kissing like nobody's around. "It very well might be."

"What is it?" Dustin asks, sliding closer to get a better look at the jar when Rick holds it higher.

"Really, Evie? Did you forget the part where these things are cursed? Did you completely forget what happened to the Americans who touched these?"

"Aren't you American?" Max asks.

"And aren't you touching it?" Erica adds.

"It's certainly not cursed anymore," Evelyn says, walking over and easily plucking the jar from Rick's hands. She looks it over, idly brushing off some of the dust. "Imhotep is thoroughly dead. You made sure of that, dear."

"I'm sorry, did she say cursed?" Mike asks.

"Yes," El says.

As Evelyn and Rick stare each other down, Steve sighs and drops his head on the back of the couch. "It's a jar used in ancient Egypt to store the organs of mummies. That one specifically belonged to Imhotep, a mummy with a curse. He ate people and tried to sacrifice my mom to bring his girlfriend back and killed a bunch of Americans in the process. But Mom and Dad defeated him, like, twice and he hasn't been a problem since, so Mom is pretty sure he's gone for good now."

"There is no way any of that is true," Max says, huffing as Rick takes the jar back before Evelyn can even think of letting Max look at it again. "I mean, seriously? Mummies?"

"Oh, inter-dimensional monsters are perfectly believable, but mummies are a step too far?" Steve asks.

"Inter-dimensional monsters?" Evelyn asks, whirling around on Steve and placing her hands on her hips.

"So that's where he gets it from," Eddie says, his voice soft and more than a little amused.

Before Steve can comment on that (or try to kick Eddie from where he's sitting on the couch), his father moves to stand next to his mother, arms crossed over his chest with a stern look and still holding the jar. "Wanna share with the class, kid?" he asks.

Steve grimaces, knowing that tone of voice and sinking a little lower on the couch. "Not really, no. Most of the class is already in the loop."

"Humor us," his mother says, her voice firm and leaving no room for argument.

"Gee," Erica says, shifting closer to the doorway, "I'm suddenly feeling pretty hungry. Anyone else wanna go loot the kitchen?"

"I'm in," Max says, hurrying across the room in long strides.

"So are we," Mike adds, grabbing Will's hand and dragging him along before he can get caught up in whatever shit storm might occur. Lucas quickly follows after, flashing an apologetic smile at Steve once he's behind Evelyn and Rick.

They've all disappeared before Steve can warn them about Jonathan's gin experiments, but he figures they deserve to have their nostrils burned from the smell for abandoning him.

Only Steve, Robin, Eddie, Dustin, and El are left with Steve's parents frowning and looking at them expectantly. Steve manages to hold out under their stare for a few seconds before he sighs, sits up straight, and waves for them to sit in the loveseat perpendicular to the couch.

Once they're settled, he glances at Dustin, gets a shrug in return, and rolls his eyes. Robin places a hand on his shoulder, getting his attention to flash a grin and say, "Good luck, dingus. Just know I'll be thoroughly entertained by the end of this."

"Gee. Thanks."

Eddie snorts, settles back into the couch, and helpfully offers, "I mean, it can't be worse than being the main course of a demobat feast, right?"

"Oh, I assure you," Evelyn says, her eyes narrowing, "it certainly can."

"Oh, damn," Eddie says, shaking his head, "What do you want on your tombstone, Stevie?"

Steve rolls his eyes as Robin laughs and high-fives Eddie. He ignores them for now, secretly grateful for the lighter feeling in his chest that their joking has given him, and looks at his parents. "I guess it started with Will's disappearance."

-------

Tag List (there should be room still! So, if you'd like a tag, let me know!)

@trueghostqueen, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @thoughtfulbreadpolice, @mogami13, @blcksh33p1987, @beawritingbooks, @remus-is-trans, @your-confused-friend, @estrellami-1, @nburkhardt, @vacantwatchers, @yeahhhh-suga, @phantomcat94

@blackpanzy, @ape31, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @plantzzsandpencilzzs, @flustratedcas, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @just-a-tiny-void, @disrespectedgoatman, @fallingleavesinthewind, @nymime, @nectandra, @moomkin77, @nadenia, @resident-disappointment, @copper-arrows, @romanticdestruction, @rowanshadow26

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #the mummy 1999 crossover #rick o'connell #evelyn o'connell #jonathan carnahan #steve deserves good parents actually #i'm realizing i always post these late at night lmao #work really do be having me writing late orz #anyway i battled valiantly and still got defeated by some of the tags on this list i'm #i just don't know why some of them don't link properly :/

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chryblossomjjk · 2 years

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the weekend | jjk (teaser)

→pairing: dilf!jk x babysitter reader

→rating/genre: m/18+ | fwb?, angst, full fic will include smut

→word count: 618

→warnings: suggestive (as in building up to smut), some dirty talk, hair pulling, neck smoochies, lil lingerie moment, slightly dangerous moment in a car?, implied infidelity, smol appearance from bby yul (holds up ‘aww’ cue card)

→summary: Every weekend, you give Jungkook a little taste of something he’s missing Monday through Friday.

→notes: um long time no see i haven't posted any writing in a while so im v excited and nervy atm! had this teaser planned for a hot minute so yeah v excited to see your reactions! i don't have a set date when this will come out but hopefully soon. as for now, you can check out my masterlist if u wanna wink wink. also this fic will be v angsty so pls if thats not ur thing, skip this. ok love u bye !! feedback is appreciated v much uwu. also this is not beta’d obvi so if there’s any typos or goofiness rip im sorry :’(

“Well, there’s still time.” You point to the clock on his touchscreen stereo; 11:12 p.m. You throw your hair over your shoulder before slowly undoing the top two buttons of your shirt, revealing the skimpy black lingerie set you bought just for tonight. Just for him. “We can celebrate��”

“Yeah?” His cheek bubbles, teasing tongue poking at the inside of his mouth, eyebrow jumping at your suggestion. “How so?”

You bite your lip, contemplating your next move. Hastily, you unbuckle your seatbelt and lean over the center console. It’s reckless, but so was being with a man like Jungkook. You’re incapable of rational thought when you finally get to have him the way you want. One night of him isn’t enough. What kind of tease is that? You need at least six more to be satisfied.

“__,” he warns, arching his head away from your sneaky lips. “Put your seatbelt on. Wait until we get to the hotel.”

“Where’s the fun in that, though?” You pout, cupping his cheek and batting your eyelashes innocently. Jungkook doesn’t take the bait, giving the desolate road ahead his unwavering attention. Despite his nonchalant demeanor, you can tell you’re getting to him. Below you, his slacks tighten around his thick, tensed thighs. He’s playing right into your hands. Needily, you tongue the little silver hoops dangling from his ear.

“If I have to pull over, you’re in trouble.”

“Maybe I-”

A hushed ‘fuck’ cuts you off as the car comes to a screeching halt. Jungkook slams on the brakes, coming too close to the slower vehicle in front of you for comfort. Luckily, his dad reflexes kick in, strong hand gripping your waist tightly, preventing you from barreling forward. You brace yourself by clutching his shoulders, and when the adrenaline rush fades, you finally look at him. His nostrils are flared and his jaw is clenched painfully tight.

He’s pissed.

You know you should apologize, or be shaken up at the very least, but the blinking of his turn signal as he pulls to the side of the dark highway has your mouth watering. This is just what you wanted.

Jungkook sighs in frustration, tilting his head back against the headrest. The movement is counterintuitive, exposing the inked canvas of his neck that you’re desperate to paint red and purple. You go in for a bite.

A hand fists your tangled hair, pulling you off with a harsh yank before you have the chance to sink your teeth into his skin. The silver ring on his finger digs into your scalp like a knife. “Do not fucking mark me.”

The feeling of the frigid metal is agonizing. Not physically, his grip loosens immediately after the initial tug, but emotionally. You know why he doesn’t want you to mark him. Any evidence of you, other than your weekly babysitting duties, would unravel his entire life. Jungkook is an intelligent man. You don’t have to tell him that it’s all a facade, and everything’s already been undone.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice comes out frail and shaky. “I just want you.”

And like some cruel joke, his phone rings.

The contact image would normally make you swoon. It’s a picture of him and his daughter from her first birthday party; her sticky, strawberry ice cream covered, hands holding his cheeks as he stares at her with scrunched eyes and a big smile. You think that picture is the only time you’ve ever seen him genuinely happy.

The bold, white font at the top of the screen, though, makes you sick to your stomach.

‘Wife.’

Jungkook releases your hair and places a finger over his mouth, signaling for you to shut up, before answering.

“Yes, Seulgi?”

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surshica · 2 years

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NINTENDO SWITCH !

EIGHT - umbrella

masterlist <3

borders will indicate when it’s time to read the written portion!! + please excuse anything grammatically incorrect and any typos !!

﹙ᴗ﹏ᴗ﹚･｡ ⁺ ✦

“NARUU!!” yn pushed through the bushes looking for a ragdoll cat and a tuxedo cat, normally cats don’t like rain but these two are obsessed with playing hide n seek in the rain with yn.

little huffs came out of yn running through the rain trying to find those two damn cats who just so happened to jump out the backpack. yn wasn’t the safest either as of right now, her pants were soaked at the bottom her socks were wet hee shoes were covered in water; she wasn’t having it today at all.

“SOMIII” yn whispered yelled, a frown grew immense on her face. the rain was getting heavier and she couldn’t find her cats, she wasn’t even sure if the cats knew their way back to the dorm which scared her. taking her hoodie sleeve she wiped off the rain on her face. ‘i should’ve brought a stupid umbrella’ she thought to herself.

luckily she had layered herself in clothing so she wasn’t that cold. asking around seeing if anyone has seen two cats; even showing them pictures but nobody has seen them. more and more worry started to grow on yn’s face. going off to the side of a building she went to get some cover.

texting mira frantically abt the cats but it ended up as a bunch of typos that mira somehow was able to read. quickly looking up she saw a black and white cat with a glittery pink collar, eyes growing wide “

“excuse me” “sorry” “sorry sorry” “excuse me sorry” was all that escaped the lips of yn following the cat, a small smiled beamed onto her lips as she got closer to her cat; her foot also smiled. flaring her arms around she braced herself for falling shutting her eyes, her breathed hitched waiting for the impact of the ground to hit but it never did.

an arm wrapped around her waist pulling her into a warmth, yn opened her eyes quickly—she met chishiya’s cat like eyes. her breathing hitched pulling herself away from him looking around quickly to see if naru was still near her. after looking around and not seeing the tuxedo cat she frowned.

“you know i expected a thank you or a chishiya?!” he mimicked her voice, “but a sad expression works as well” he stood up straight relaxing his shoulders. yn looked him straight in the eyes sighing “thank you chishiya…” she huffed quietly, earning a chishiya grin. nodding his head, he took out a ragdoll cat holding it against him. the cat purred into the warmth of chishiya; almost as if the cat was in love with him.

“your cat” he raised an eyebrow in question, yn’s eyes turned into stars quickly grabbing the cat kissing the top of its head, she turned into all smiles. “NARUU” she happily gasped. she quickly put naru into the bag closing it so he doesn’t escape again. Yn looked quickly at chishiya smiling, “how’d you find naru?”

“i didn’t” chishiya nonchalantly told her, looking slightly down at her “naru found me, i knew he looked fimilar thanks to kuina’s post.” chishiya’s lips formed an a line smile. “well in that case thank you still.” yn’s smile kept growing widely. there was definitely a silence. the silence was loud.

chishiya cleared his throat getting yn’s attention once again. he took his hand out his pocket and pointed to the cat that was cuddled up to chishiya on the right, “this your cat as well?” chishiya questioned. yn quickly grabbed the cat smiling, “yes this is somi! she’s a tuxedo cat” she pet somi a few times, a very wet cat. she sighed before putting somi in the bag with naru.

yn made sure to check the zipper was zipped all the way, she sighed in relief ruffling up hee hair before looking back at chishiya, she was going to give him. a hug as a thank you but stopped herself remembering she was soaked. chishiya let out a slight chuckle. “were you going somewhere that you had to bring your cats?” he sided eyed the cats that were curled up with eachother.

“yes, i was going to get them groomed.” she sighed. chishiya’s smacked his lips a grin twitching onto his lips, “do you mean the one near the cafe?”

yn nodded frantically.

“t..the one near the cafe.” chishiya sighed deeply trying to hold back his laughter

“YES WHY.” yn stared at him getting stressed

“well it’s closed” chishiya stifled a much needed laughter.

yn’s world dropped. her eyes dropped in despair. “WHATTTT” she whispered yelled not trying to get much unnecessary attention. chishiya finally got the giggles out of him staring her in the eyes his normal blank uninteresting face was back. “yeah it said it was closed and the lights were turned off so..” he cleared his throat putting one of his hand in his pocket.

yn’s face absolutely dropped in despair, “so you’re tell me i couldve stayed home and avoided all this?!” she tugged on her hair lightly. “don’t pull on your hair that can cause headaches..and yes you really could’ve stayed home” his voice rasped; he put his hand over her drenched wet hair. she looked up at him a chill going down her spine; was it the voice or was it the cold clothes clinging to her? it was probably the cold clothes. is what she wanted to think.

she felt a slight heat rush to her face, she cleared her throat. “well the fact i couldve avoided all this is embarrassing” she frowned slightly. chishiya smacked his lips lightly, “well since were somewhat close, want to go to the cafe?” chishiya side eyed the cats and yn. gripping the umbrella tighter as the rainy cold winds picked up slightly.

Yn perked up slightly smiling, “that would be nice.” chishiya nodded walking to the cafe with yn behind him, “a nice hot chocolate or tea would go nice about now” chishiya nodded knowing yn was somewhat behind him smiling, she truly did love the cafe. “well since you invited meee, are you going to be paying for me??” she joking questioned him; she was now infront of him turned around hands infront of her looking at him with a small grin.

chishiya looked slightly down at hee before shrugging “i mean sure.” yn eyes shot wide before smiling like a mad man. throwing her arms up in happiness, she had a slight bounce to her step. “i can’t wait to have a nice hot chocolate!” she started naming off what kind of hot chocolates she should get.

chishiya looked at the happy girl a small smile appeared onto his lips, he didn’t know why it appeared but he was staring at the happy girl. quickly wiping it off his face before she could notice, “don’t go too crazy, i’m not that rich.”

﹙ᴗ﹏ᴗ﹚･｡ ⁺ ✦

tags !!

PINK doesn’t work

@crinklypink @flrtsbin @4pparecium @afckingswiftiebtch @em-asian @saiewithakatana @minyoungieee @eternal-gf @kimtaehussy @theinfaethablefig @elakari @too-many-fandoms666 @lastheavcns @pyrrhicgaze @andreeasancheez @hadesdaughtwr @Iserluver @urgodmoon @nmsl0v3r @lowilaufeyson @dee-dino-man @chiishiiya @444neapolitain @wroophruh @vensworld @valvlry @dr3amscap3 @kuinaheartz @bre99 @cheshireshiya @eissaaaa @sollum @conny1111 @luvelyxp @shinobuily @gelliyo @fanfangying1304 @ikon-teen @stay-moa-army @bbyjackie @naegisimp @midlystupid @yvrikoo @chepoyo @luv4kuina @vernon-dursley @itadorim @vseqvt @shigamiryuk @wonswoorld @music-saves-my-dead-soul l @elisiumnie @abyloxk @asoullessentity @seventeensstrawberry @cupidsaster @bubblyclouds

#aib chishiya #chishiya headcanons #alice in boderland x reader #chishiya fluff #chishiya imagine #chishiya smau #chishiya x reader #chishiya fic #chishiya shuntaro #꒰ა 🎧 ─ nintendo switch : .. ꒱#- surshica ♥︎

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typingcorgi · 2 years

Text

sanctuary; part i

pairing: joel miller x f!reader (no y/n) warnings: tw for mention of blood, mild gore, violence. no smut yet but honey have you met me? it's coming (and so is joel, and you, ey-ohhhh) word count: 1600 author's notes: canon divergent aka no ellie I'm sorry kids cramp my style

i feel like this is 80% character study and 20% plot, but these ideas have been gnawing at me like a hungry ass clicker and i needed to get them out of my brain and onto a google doc. please feel free to reblog, share, leave a comment, tell me what you like, tell me what you want to see more of, I'm so excited to be writingggg also not beta'd so here we gooooo if there is a typo I'm sorry but please understand i dumped this onto the internet and didn't look back

The car you drive is a target on your back. It’s a good thing your partner in crime is such a quick shot.

You’re not even a fourth of the way to Wyoming, yet you’ve outrun and outdriven more thieves than you can count. It’s unsurprising, considering the dismal state of the world. You used to think more often about what life was like before Outbreak Day. Before New York shut down, before subway cars crashed below Canal Street and even the damn rats seemed to have greater control over their faculties than most human beings.

You couldn’t get out of the city fast enough.

It’s been twenty years, and while the memory of it all occasionally haunts you like a looming ghost, most of the time, you’re just thankful to be alive. And whether you like to admit it or not, your survival is owed to the man you think of now as your companion, your partner, your…something.

You just don’t know what he is to you, even if your impact on one another is indisputable.

You’ve hardened. Where you have grown a thicker skin, you’ve softened his, even if just by the smallest amount. You can see it in the way his eyes linger on you for a moment too long when you return from a run with a fresh cut or bruising eye. You can sense it in the way he talks to you like he’s toeing the line between wanting to respect your autonomy and independence and knowing he might tear the goddamn city apart if he were to lose you.

At least, you tell yourself that. It’s self-indulgent and flattering, because while you’ve spent years learning how to exist in this new and unsafe world, your understanding of human interaction and behavior hasn’t completely gone to shit. And Joel Miller behaves like cares about you.

“Turn here,” he says as you approach what probably used to be an intersection, but now appears to be a blurred line of a dirt path. Most paths are like that now. The only clearcut routes from any place to another are the main highways and frequently used roads, but those are so closely monitored by FEDRA that you don’t dare to cross them. No, you and your partner opt for the scenic route to Jackson, if only to spare your lives.

That is, if you aren’t taken out by clickers or thieves or gang members first.

You don’t say anything, you just keep driving, eyes locked on the path in front of you. It’s late afternoon and you must be driving west—good, you’re headed in the right direction, at least—because the setting sun glimmers along the horizon, and while you’d normally find such a sight to be one of the rare moments of beauty in this fucked up world, right now it’s downright annoying.

His eyes are locked on the road, or at least you think they are. You can’t tell because if you catch a glimpse of him in this golden sunlight, you might actually melt behind the steering wheel. So you keep your focus on the path before you while the radio plays in and out of static.

And then it happens so damn quickly. Joel yells at you to watch out! And his arm stretches out toward your side of the car, and his hand is on the steering wheel, jerking the car in a sharp motion toward the left.

You brace yourself for then inevitable crash. The muscles in your legs squeeze and freeze until you collect your breath, exhaling while your hands tighten along the steering wheel.

“What the fuck was that for!?” You demand, the shock filling your tone with more anger than you intended. Joel doesn’t say anything back. His breathing is heavy, though slowing to a more normal pace, and he scrubs a hand over his features.

You turn back and see nothing at first. But as soon as you spot the culprit through the truck’s rear view mirror, you’re stunned.

“A fucking deer?” You ask incredulously, spotting a doe picking her way through the brush. “Really, Joel?”

He’s softening.

“Could have damaged the truck,” he contests, voice considerably lower. “We’re already taking the long way to Cody Tower. I don’t need any more setbacks.”

You scoff but say nothing, replacing your foot into the accelerator and continuing your trek along the back roads.

It’s dark by the time you pull over. You’ll have to refuel first thing in the morning, though the source of said fuel is to be determined. Siphoning gas isn’t hard, but it’s tracking down another functioning automobile with an oblivious operator that’s the hard part.

You’ve started sleeping in shifts. The bench seat in the back is about as luxurious a bed as you’re going to get in the middle of the apocalypse. Somewhere along the line, you’ve managed to collect a flimsy blanket that does little by way of insulation, but at least it’s comforting.

Joel locks the doors while you settle into the back. He’s caught your eye in the rearview and you feel your stomach twist. Every night goes like this—he lets you sleep first, and you usually agree because you’re so fucking tired, but because he’s too damn polite to wake you up, you end up sleeping uninterrupted. He sneaks in sleep when you’re on the road the next day and he thinks you won’t notice.

“You know what?” You say, climbing back over the center console and into the passenger seat. He’s taken the driver’s seat in case you need to make a quick getaway overnight. “I’ll take the first watch. You sleep.”

He shakes his head. “Not gonna happen.”

“Oh, really?” You arch a brow. “Because it seems like you need it. You look like shit, Joel.”

Now it’s his turn to scoff. “Excuse me if i don’t look my greatest at the end of the damn world.”

You hadn’t said that. Even when Joel looks absolutely exhausted, he still looks good. His rugged handsomeness isn’t lost on you, and for the first time all day, you actually look at him. You take him in. Moonlight catches along the graying ends of his unkempt hair, his wrinkles along the corners of his eyes are pronounced, and you eat it up like a woman starved. If you’re blushing, you’re thankful Joel can’t tell in the darkness, placing a comfortable distance between him and your growing vulnerabilities.

You hold up your palms in friendly defeat. “All I’m saying is I’m not tired yet. If you want the first round, I won’t complain.”

He doesn’t budge, though. And neither do you. You both wind up falling asleep in your respective seats once you are positive the other isn’t looking.

–

It’s not the clicking that wakes you up, though as soon as you’re half-conscious, you hear it right away.

Your stomach lurches. Fuck. When you’d pulled over hours earlier, you hadn’t noticed any semblance of life other than the deer you nearly ran over. But now, tired and bleary-eyed, you make out the deformed, eyeless head of something that used to be human.

There’s three of them, and they’re approaching your truck fast.

“Joel,” you urge, shaking his shoulder. “You gotta wake up. Joel, baby, we have to go.” The urgency in your voice hopefully outshines the petname you go with. You blame it on nerves, on the chance that this is the moment you and your partner actually fucking die. Baby. That is a choice. With any luck, Joel’s too drowsy for it to register.

He’s up like a shot, the strained, nearly silent cry from outside the truck jolting up into consciousness.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mutters, starting the truck and slamming his foot on the accelerator. One of the clickers narrowly misses colliding into your door. There’s less than a quarter of a tank left, though if you both don’t get out of here in one piece, that really doesn’t matter.

“I need you to shoot them,” Joel says over the roaring engine. He twists and turns in an attempt to lose them, but they’re on your trail, ganging up on you with each passing step.

You don’t challenge him, but you hesitate. His pistol is in the glove box, untouched since the last time you got into a dangerous situation—probably a day or two ago; every violent clash starts to bleed and blend together with the last.

“You can do it,” he says, though his tone is more urgent than encouraging . “They’re getting close. The closer your target, the easier it is to hit. Just do it—now!”

There’s no more time to waste. The clickers are a half step behind the truck. One of them places its grimy hand on the truck, holding on for dear life, if only to take yours.

Joel shouts your name to shock any remaining fatigue from every cell of your body. You do it—you reach for the gun in the glove compartment, lower your window just enough to hang your arms out of the side of it, cock the gun, and shoot.

Three fires. Three clean shots, each of the clickers blown back onto the dirt ground. Blood splatters on the side of the truck, some speckles across your forearm. Joel audibly exhales through his nose.

He keeps driving until you run out of gas.

#joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #tlou hbo #joel miller fic #tlou fic #joel miller x reader #no y/n

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phoebe-delia · 10 months

Note

Hi there 💕

Eight Drarry Nights 2023 prompt idea:

Louis Tomlinsons song "Miss you"

In case you have any inspiration for it 😊

Lots of love 🫶🏻

Hello, lovely!! Thank you for this prompt! @misscarrots28

Ah, Louis. Hearing his voice takes me back to my 1D days. Good times 😂.

Here's my take on this fun song. I know it could be angstier but this is just where my brain went lol. Hope you enjoy!

CW: implied alcohol, implied heavy drinking, getting back together

A Day, or Forever

Someone is taking a bludger to Harry's head.

He whines as he wakes up, becoming conscious to the throbbing pain. He keep his eyes closed and presses a palm to his forehead. "Fucking ow," he mutters.

"A hangover potion will help with that," a voice says above him.

Harry knows that voice. It shoots through his blood like lightning. Draco.

"Draco?" Harry peels his eyes open and then immediately has to scrunch them closed as they adjust to daylight. He rubs away the sleep in his eyes, and tries again, blinking and then frowning when his vision is blurred.

"Utterly useless, Potter," the Draco-shaped blob in front of him says. He reaches onto the bedside table, retrieves Harry's glasses, and slides them onto his nose.

"There you are," Draco smirks. "Now you may properly ask me what you clearly want to know."

"What are you doing here?" Harry blurts out.

Draco's smirk widens. "You asked me here." He reaches for his mobile, taps a few buttons, and shows it to him. Harry groans at his drunken, typo-riddled texts.

"I have more questions, but first can I have the potion?" Harry grunts, stretching his sore muscles.

Draco snorts, but he hands him the vial. "Here."

Harry sits up and accepts it gratefully, uncapping it and downing it in one go. He swallows, winces as it washes over him, and then vanishes the emptied vial.

"Thanks. Now, what happened?" he asks, clear-headed and sober.

Draco shrugs. "You, in a clearly intoxicated state, told me to come get you from the pub. I, being the gracious ex-boyfriend that I am, came to your aid and brought you safely back here. When I tried to leave, you insisted that I stay the night. And, well, here we are."

Harry flops back down onto his bed. "Right. Well. I'm sorry to have bothered you. I won't, er, keep you any longer. I'm sure you have other places to be." He swallows against the lump in his throat, closing his eyes to avoid looking at Draco. He can't watch him leave; not again.

He braces himself for the feeling of Draco's weight leaving the bed. Instead, he feels cool fingers brush the fringe from his forehead. He dares to open his eyes, breath catching at the sight of Draco leaning over him and biting his lip.

"Harry, I..." Draco trails off for a moment, seeming to collect his thoughts, before he continues. "I'm sorry."

Harry's heart races. "W-what?

"I'm sorry. For not having the courage, at the time, to be someone you deserve."

"I..." Harry wants to respond, to say the right thing. This moment feels so precious; so fragile. Harry can't mess it up again; he won't. "I'm sorry, too," he says, finally. "For not fighting harder for you."

Draco lets out a shuddered breath, and it takes everything in Harry not to kiss him. Instead, he grips the sheets, restraining himself.

"Stay," Harry hears himself say, his voice raspy. "Just—stay with me."

Draco bites his lip. "You mean, for an hour? The rest of the morning?"

Harry swallows. "A day. Forever. As long as you'll have me." He bravely takes Draco's hand in his own. "I know we have a lot to talk about, still. And we should take it slow, if we're going to do this again. But I want to, if you do."

Draco stares at him for a moment, looks down at their clasped hands, and then back up at Harry with a hopeful smile.

Draco lets himself be pulled down onto the bed next to Harry, their legs tangling together. Draco leans forward and kisses Harry, soft but too quick, and whispers, "Of course I'll stay."

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takaraphoenix · 1 month

Note

You said I only sent four not five and although it was a typo I figured I would. I've been collecting more pool noodles recently, and although you said nkt romantic, I still want these two so 22 and Stiles and Jackson. I feel like those two prompts will work for them.

Tags: m/m, Jackson Doesn't Leave, Pack Feels, fluff, hurt/comfort

Main Pairing: Jackson/Stiles

Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Jackson Whittemore, Vernon Boyd III, Isaac Lahey, Danny Mahealani, Scott McCall

@writersmonth Prompts: beast + motel

Summary: The team is staying in a motel during an away-game and Scott is using his puppy-dog eyes on Stiles to get out of rooming with his co-captain. Damn those puppy-dog eyes. And damn the motel for having run out of rooms with two beds. And damn Jackson for being so attractive.

This Story on FFNet | This Story on AO3

Away Game

Stiles Summer Stories 2024

"Sti—iles. We're best friends. Brothers, really. Right?"

Stiles didn't look up from the bestiary he was reading on his phone. "Absolutely, Scotty boy."

"And you love me, right?"

Stiles marked a passage on shifters changing their shift form. "Sure do, bud."

"And you would do anything for me. Right?"

Slowly, Stiles lowered his phone. "...I am starting to feel like I won't like where this is headed."

Lowering his phone proved to be a mistake, because Scott next to him was aiming the most convincing puppy-dog eyes at him. Urgh. They made it so hard to deny Scott, so Stiles was already bracing himself for whatever unpleasant thing he was going to agree to.

"I can't room with Jackson," Scott whined. "Coach assigned us the shared room since we're co-captains but I can't sleep in the same room as Jackson for two nights, please. Please switch rooms with me, Stiles. Please? You love me."

"I don't love you enough to share a room with Jackson for two nights, Scotty."

Another whine from Scott and the puppy-dog eyes intensified. Snickering from the row in front of him made Stiles kick the seat. The two werewolves in front of them turned with broad, teasing grins on their lips. Stiles first glared at Boyd and then at Isaac. Damn these oversized puppies.

"Sorry, it's just really fucking funny how much you two argue, considering you're pack now."

Scott grumbled and crossed his arms, sinking lower in his seat at Isaac's comment. All Stiles did was heave a sigh. To him, it made perfect sense. They were like siblings, in that regard. Not the same flavor as Stiles and Scott, the kind that loved each other. But the kind that competed to be the favorite kid, the better of the brothers. After Scott and Stiles had joined the Hale Pack to take down the kanima, they'd worked with Derek and the betas to come up with a plan and they had taken down Gerard together, Scott poisoning Gerard with mountain ash and telling Derek about how Gerard wanted the bite to cure his cancer, leading to Derek biting Gerard. And then Jackson's curse got broken and the giant lizard turned into a beta wolf, changing from one beast to another, also joining the pack. Jackson, who always wanted to be the best and the favorite, only edged on even more with Scott now, since Scott had been – more or less – the first beta and had, at this point, earned his spot as Derek's right hand.

So now Stiles was stuck in a pack of three obnoxious assholes (Boyd, Erica and Isaac. And Stiles was saying 'obnoxious assholes' affectionately at this point), a growly-but-improving Alpha, his best friend in the whole world, and Jackson. Another sigh escaped Stiles.

"I hate you," Stiles said in a flat voice. "I hate you so much."

Scott's face lit up and he hugged Stiles tightly. "Thank you! You're the best."

Boyd chuckled and side-eyed Stiles, causing Stiles to flip him off. So the two had become good friends, really good friends, after their little 'bonding exercise' in the Argent basement but he was absolutely not taking any of the werewolves' shit.

/break\

Jackson stalked into his bedroom, jaw set. Danny was walking next to him, grinning delighted because he could be an absolute asshole if he wanted to be. And Jackson being stuck with McCall for an entire weekend? Danny thought that was hilarious and he opted to go and see how Jackson would settle in. Only that when Jackson opened the door, the person sitting on the only bed in the room was not McCall. It was the only option worse than McCall.

"Stilinski," Jackson growled. "I know you and McCall are attached by the hip, but I am absolutely not sharing a room with both of you. Get out."

"Yeah, you're not," Stiles collapsed backward on the bed, stretching out, his shirt riling up enough to show a pale sliver of skin and his hip bone. "You only share with me."

Jackson was staring transfixed at Stiles' hipbone. Growling. He knew his eyes were flashing blue and he hoped he could cover the arousal with anger. Stiles flipped him off, so he bought it.

"I thought you're sharing a room with Greenberg," Danny noted confused.

"Ye—ep, so did I," Stiles heaved a long-suffering sigh. "And then Scott used the puppy eyes of doom against me and here I am. Jackson's new roommate. Congratulations, Whittemore. You get to enjoy all of this all weekend, lucky you."

He motioned at himself, voice dripping with sarcasm. Jackson ground his teeth together. The motherfucker really didn't know how damn tempting he was. All long limbs, pale skin that begged to be marked up, and that mouth, Jackson had multiple good ideas for that mouth. Danny snorted out a laugh and rested a heavy hand on Jackson's shoulder, patting it.

"Don't worry, Jackson is not a blanket hog, but he does like to cuddle so don't be surprised if you wake up with him spooning you, Stiles," Danny winked.

No mercy. Best friends for so many years and yet Danny had no mercy with him. Jackson glared at him in betrayal. Danny was the only person who knew of Jackson's unfortunate obsession with Stiles. It had started after Jackson became a werewolf. It was like his wolf was drawn to the annoying little shit. Feeling calmer, more at ease when Stiles was around. Stiles had helped him so much in settling in, teaching him control – something he'd done for Derek's other betas too, apparently (after he had learned that Derek's method was medieval torture devices). So it wasn't special, he shouldn't feel special for it. But his wolf latched onto that, feeling cared for. Same with the food, Stiles tended to cook for the pack during pack-nights, because he loved cooking and the wolves could eat a lot. Again, nothing special, the food was for the entire pack. And yet still.

"Have fu—un," Danny chimed, shoving Jackson into the bedroom fully.

"Where the fuck is the other bed," Jackson asked as soon as he slammed the door shut.

"Evidently not in the room," Stiles pointed out, still staring at the ceiling. "Motel's booked. They ran out of two bed bedrooms, so six lucky plays get to cuddle up with each other and we are two of the winning pairs, Jackson. I don't snore, if that helps."

Jackson growled again, really struggling with his wolf who was purring and whining and just wanted to crawl into that bed and curl together around Stiles. This was going to be a nightmare.

/break\

Stiles got back to the bedroom with his teeth brushed, wearing only his boxers and the Batman sleep shirt that Erica had bought him for his birthday. Jackson was already laying on the bed, looking constipated. He'd looked that way ever since he walked into this room. Either he actually had constipation, or it really bothered him this much to share a room with Stiles. Which should not sting as much as it did. After all, Stiles knew he stood no chance with Jackson, even though he'd had a crush on the guy for pretty much as long as he had feelings for Lydia. Yeah, he liked gorgeous people who more or less didn't care for his existence. Nobody said he had good taste.

"If you could at least stop looking like this is physically hurting you. It's insulting."

Stiles jumped onto the bed, pushing Jackson aside enough to get some space too. Jackson glared. No insult though. Weird. Jackson's fingers were twitching at his side before he pulled his hand back. Ah. Oh. That was why he was so constipated. Stiles put on his most shit-eating grin.

"You can cuddle me, you know," Stiles offered, opening his arms.

"W… What," Jackson's voice actually cracked. "Why would you-"

"Whole pack of puppies," Stiles interrupted him, rolling his eyes. "Boyd, Erica and Isaac regularly break into my bedroom to get their scent-marking and Stiles time in. Scott anyway. You – or your wolf, anyway – want to cuddle the pack-human."

Jackson looked at him with a guarded expression and Stiles sighed. "I'm not going to make fun of you for this, Jackson. It's instincts. I've cuddled with Derek and the man looked so murderous throughout but after I smelt enough like his betas, his inner wolf was itching for it too. I'm pack. Being pack is about more than just… personalities mashing perfectly together. You don't have to like me to accept me as a pack-mate."

The look on Jackson's face softened but he still looked guarded, even as he slowly inched closer. Rolling his eyes, Stiles wrapped his arms around the other jock and pulled him close. A soft rumbling came from Jackson and hah, victory. Tehehe, another one for Stiles' puppy collection.

"I don't dislike you, Stilinski."

"Oka—ay?" Stiles furrowed his brows, looking at Jackson.

A blush lit up Jackson's face, which really brought out his freckles in a pretty way. Looking away, Stiles snuggled up more to Jackson. Hey, he was just a guy and if he got to cuddle with his crush, he was damn well going to enjoy it while it lasted. Jackson wrapped his arms around him, near possessive, making Stiles melt in his arms. This was good.

"I like you," Jackson pressed out, sounding like the words actually hurt him.

Stiles froze. "Like… as pack-mates? As friends? As…? No, wait, sorry, forget it. I'll take it."

"The last one," Jackson muttered, voice muffled by Stiles' neck.

"Friends?" Stiles repeated carefully.

"No," Jackson growled. "The one after that."

The one where he trailed off, the implied 'more than friends'. Oh. Oh. Stiles pushed himself off Jackson enough to stare at the other in surprise. There was too much unwanted vulnerability in Jackson's eyes to make this a prank or anything. Jackson liked liked him. Impulsively, Stiles leaned in and pressed his lips against Jackson's, his heart jackrabbiting.

"Against better judgment do I like you too," Stiles admitted after a moment. "I mean, when you're not being a total jerk, you can be really sweet. And your pretty face also helps."

He grinned cheekily at Jackson, who shoved him lightly. "Well, I can return that compliment. When you are not being a total shit, you can be really sweet. And your pretty face helps too."

Stiles flushed to the tips of his ears, ducking his head. Jackson smirked and then nuzzled into his neck. That felt good. That felt really nice. Stiles yawned, snuggling more into Jackson's warmth. This was so not what he had expected when switching rooms with Scotty, but now he may actually owe his best friend. Maybe a nice fruit-basket or something?

~*~ The End ~*~

#Stackson #Jackson Whittemore #Stiles Stilinski #Teen Wolf #Stiles Summer Stories 2024 #Phoe's Fics #Fanfiction

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artficlly · 1 year

Text

the horselords of naraik [chapter 3]

A quiet civil war has raged across the kingdom of Garwic for nearly three decades. The cruelty of the Duke of Garwic knows no end, bringing death and misery with each raid upon the lower-class. The horselords of naraik have fought to protect those suffering under the Duke's violence. The reader being the daughter of the duke is captured and held for ransom, only things are not as they seem. The reader can only hope that the horselords recognise her as a victim rather than a villain before it is too late. Fantasy AU

Pairing: horselord!bucky x duchess!witch!reader

Warnings: huge suicidal thoughts/intentions warning, huge SA warning (not to reader), bucky is an asshole in this but he gets better in the next chapter i promise, violence, blood, wounds, death, swearing, yelling, angst, tension, mention of sickness, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 5.2k

A/N: i don't like this chapter which is why it's taken me so long to get up. feeling very burnt out. this chapter is particularly triggering in regard to suicidal topics as well as SA topics so please read at your own risk. not proof read - sorry for any typos

chapter masterlist | main masterlist

You felt the storm long before its presence was known. There was an energy to the wind, a taste of electricity on your tongue. The entire ride to the next camp had been riddled with anxious energy, the horses twitching and acting up. The horde were connected with their horses, bonded for life and they knew that the weather was coming in and fast. Your trek had been cut short, men and women rushing to put up the tents before the wind set in. They lay river rocks along the base of the canvas, holding the billowing fabric in place.

You had broken your hunger strike a week previous, much to the relief of many. You were still not allowed to help May or the healers, but they felt comfort in your presence. The healer women would often sneak you fruit in exchange for recipes or advice. Steve and Nat turned a blind eye, often helping the women sneak back and forth without Bucky’s knowledge.

Still blindfolded, it seemed someone had taken pity on you. Your usual setup of being tied to a tree had been upgraded, now only your hands tied together with a length of rope attached to the tree. You were able to stand and walk for a short perimeter around the tree, often pacing in circles around the trunk until the rope became tangled. Nat said you were acting like a caged dog, pacing and snarling away. In reality it helped you pass the hours, gave you something to do other than mulling over how to escape your doom uselessly. If things had seemed dire before, now with the knowledge Steve had given you everything seemed worse. Even if you knew death was quickly approaching, you decided to spend your last weeks acting like nothing was wrong.

The strong storm winds tussled your hair as you stood, arms braced over your chest for warmth. The rain would arrive soon, you could smell it in the air. In the distance thunder roared closer and closer, it would be upon the camp like a stampeding herd of horses within the hour. The horde's worry wasn’t entirely focused on the storm though, instead hushed whispers carried across the wind as a terrible screaming shook the camp. Wanda had gone into labor hours ago, and it seemed the labor continued to rage on alongside the storm. A doncayo child, as you had predicted. You knew the labor would be hard, contractions rising and falling with the wind and rain. Wanda would have to be one with the storm, time herself with the rumblings of thunder and the flashes of lightning if she hoped her boy would come soon.

You and Steve had barely heard any news of the progress of the birth, only hearing Wanda’s pained cries as the storm grew nearer and nearer. Nat had rushed off as soon as the labor had started to help, leaving the two of you in a foreboding silence. Hours had passed of this hush between the two of you, only being broken as the storm began to pass directly over the top of you. The anxiety of the camp was high, shouts of panic lost to the wind as Wanda’s screaming was lost to waves of thunder. Each time it reverberated across the landscape the booming would become louder and louder, lightning blinding you even through your blindfold. Steve began muttering about where to house you for the night, clearly unhappy with Bucky’s decision to let you brave the storm outside.

“Steve!” Nat’s voice shouted over the howl of the wind, words nearly swallowed by the air that rushed past. You couldn’t see her due to the blindfold, but you could sense her worry through her tone. The birth didn’t seem to be going well you had gathered. Although the skies had been dark before, now the setting sun behind the clouds was casting the plains into darkness.

Steve and Nat exchanged some words you couldn’t quite make out, words and speech lost to the roaring of the wind. You continued to hug your body tightly, using your damp hair to shelter your face from the lashings of rain. The horde would be fine with their furs and cloaks, whereas you were armed with only a light linen shirt and skirt. You strained your ears, flinching slightly as another roll of thunder deafened you momentarily.

The squelch of muddy grass was the only thing to indicate to you of Steve’s sudden closeness. You jolted nevertheless, teeth chattering as he pulled you towards his chest with your bound hands.

“Come.” He instructed, voice raised so you could hear him over the storm. You cocked your head quizzically, only understanding as you felt the cool of a blade cut your bound wrists free.

“Where are we going?” You shouted back, wincing as you rubbed your tender wrists. Steve’s hand found the small of your back, guiding you in the direction of the camp. You were quick to pull off the blindfold, squinting as another flash of lightning engulfed the camp in a blinding white light. You could briefly make out men securing loose tent flaps which blew in the wind, women rushing between tents children in tow but most alarming was Nat.

Her eyes met yours, fear and exhaustion painted across her expression. Her eyebrows were knitted together, crows feet pulled together. Your eyes had cast down to where she braced her hands in front of her stomach, blood lining the skin. Even the sleeves of her shirt were stained pink, blood diluted by the rain.

“Wanda. The baby… it’s twisted so it won’t pass. The healers are at a loss, we don’t have a midwife.” Nat explained, exasperated. You abandon the blindfold in the mud, frowning hard as your eyes follow to the sound of Wanda’s screams.

You hesitate for a moment, Steve’s hand pressing harder into the small of your back as he glances at you in confusion. “What about Bucky–”

“Since when have you cared about what he thinks?” Steve snaps back, catching you off guard.

“Wanda will die if we don’t act quickly, she has already lost too much blood–” Nat begins and you cut her off.

“Take me to her.” You reply determinedly, rushing into the tent alongside the two warriors.

The tent was far warmer and dryer than the weather outside, Wanda groaning as some of the wind rushed in alongside the three of you. There was a darkness cast across the interior, only candles which lined most surfaces casting a dim light. Wanda lay on the bed, blood staining the furs and sweat pooling across her skin. Healers muttered worriedly among each other, only pausing as they caught sight of you half-drenched with a look of determination in your eye.

Wanda let out a sob, muttering your name weakly as she reached out with pale, shaking hands. You were quick to move to her side, pushing strands of damp auburn hair from her sticky forehead. She looked weaker than you had first assumed, skin clammy paired with eyelids that could barely flutter open. You hushed the auburn, your stiff fingers stroking over her swollen belly as you tried to feel how the baby was positioned.

You could feel the form through the tight skin, Wanda’s muscles tensing as another contraction washed over her body. You squeezed her hand throughout, feeling how her stomach strained beneath your palm. Only as the contraction came to its end, the thunder outside fizzling out did you allow yourself to move.

“Get fresh towels and water.” You instruct, glancing at the old water and fabric which was stained with blood. One of the healers sprung to action, dashing out of the door instantly. Beneath you, Wanda sobbed to Nat while the red-head murmured to the woman. You kneeled between Wanda’s legs, letting out a shaking breath.

“Wanda. Wanda, look at me.” You instructed, palm braced against one of her knees. The auburn’s eyes snapped towards yours, eyes red and puffy. You gave her a reassuring smile, worry biting in your gut as you anticipated the next roll of thunder and contractions to come.

“The baby is around the wrong way.” You explain, shaking your head as Wanda is thrown into hysterics once more. “It’s okay. I can move him, I will have to reach in and guide him. Once I have repositioned him, you will have to push.”

“I can’t.” The auburn sobbed.

“Yes you can. I just need you to listen to me and push when I tell you to, he is a doncayo child, we must time it with the thunder.” You explain, a sense of relief coming over you as the healer comes rushing back in with fresh water.

“I don’t understand.” Wanda continues to cry, you shake your head with a tut as you wash your hands in the freshwater.

“That is okay. I will guide you.” You say reassuringly, positioning your hands before Wanda has time to react.

xxx

You had barely finished washing the blood off your hands in the basin of water when Bucky stormed into the tent. Anger and droplets of rain rolled off of his hulking body in waves, his chest heaving for breath after fighting the strong winds.

Nat, who was crouched next to the bed, visibly tensed, standing as she faced the enraged warrior. Steve, who had stayed stoic the entire birth composure faltering slightly. You angled yourself to face Wanda, back turned to Bucky as you dipped your hands and forearms deeper into the cold water with a huff.

“You directly disobeyed my order.” Bucky rumbled as deeply as the thunder that still loomed outside. The storm was still going strong, lightning crashing down to earth as the rain continued to assault the camp in icy sheets.

“Wanda would have died if we didn’t get her help!” Nat protested, motioning to the woman who lay weakly in the bed. In her arms she held a crying infant, a boy as you had predicted. She had lost a lot of blood and was tired, but she would live thankfully. Once you had been able to reposition her son he had arrived easily, much to everyone’s relief.

“You disobeyed an order.” Bucky repeated himself, voice low and dangerous. You tried your best to hold your tongue, drying your hands on a nearby towel. “What has happened to us? Has this witch enchanted all of your minds? Someone should have ridden to a nearby town to fetch a midwife–"

“Ride? In this storm?” Nat barks with a harsh laugh. “You are a fool!”

“No. You are the fool, letting this woman infect you! Don’t you remember who she is, who she shares her blood with?” Bucky continues.

“She has the symbol–” Steve cuts in.

“Quiet!” Bucky interrupts him. “She is a duchess, our enemy, like her mother–”

“Enough!” You shout, sending the room into a stunned silence. The only sound that follows is the sound of you dropping the damp towel onto the table. Outside the winds have grown silent, not even the canvas of the tent rustling with the gale. The rain had stopped, even the roar of the river close-by having gone silent. For a moment, the group of you breathe in the heavy silence, the thunder long gone as if the storm had suddenly disappeared.

With achingly slow steps you walk towards Bucky, who assesses you with a snarl. You position yourself between him and Nat, watching how his chest heaved with rage as he looked down upon you.

“You don’t get to speak about my mother in that way.” You say defiantly, chin lifted. Your voice is unshaking, gaze firmly meeting Bucky’s whose rage had grown into a look of amusement, as if he were in disbelief that you would speak in such a commanding tone – to him – your captor.

“You best learn your place you–” Bucky starts, anger laced in his tone. Your scowl deepens, not allowing him to finish his sentence before you interrupt.

“I said, enough!” You shout, the air feels like it has been sucked from the room into you. The energy that crackles through your blood stings, as if the storm itself had entered your skin. Bucky’s mouth is still open, but words fail to come out as if they had been stolen from his lips. The candles that line every surface all suddenly go out, as if a flash of air had stolen not only Bucky’s words but their life. The tent is cast into an even deeper silence, Wanda’s son no longer crying. The tent is drenched in darknesss, in the dim light you see Nat’s eyes flash in fear. There was no sound of the storm, no words uttered, only the darkness and the power radiating off your body as you gaze upon Bucky with bared teeth.

“My mother was raped,” You hiss at the horselord. “Like many women before and after her, she was taken against her will during the raids. Do you think she wanted that? That she asked for it? The duke was infatuated with her, so he forced his seed upon her. When it was over, he grew embarrassed. A duke laying with a commoner, a magic user at that? He created a rumor that she had enchanted him to fuel his campaign of violence! My mother did everything to protect me, to keep me hidden from him.” Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, a look of contemplation crossing the horselords face.

“I don’t believe you.” He states, deadpan.

“What?” You gasp in disbelief.

“I said, I don't believe you. She was a witch, why didn’t she take a potion? Why would she carry a monster's child? Why didn’t she cut you from her womb like a parasite? Why would a witch test fate knowing she could not change it?”

Your shoulders dropped, you knew the answers to all those questions but it was pointless. You had tried fighting for so long, you had tried fighting for years. All you were met with was the crack of the whip and another rope tied around your wrists. You had tried fighting, screaming, biting and running. It was no use. There was no life left behind your eyes, no spark of the girl you had once been. So many years you had been nothing but numb, turning to starvation and self mutilation to feel something other than emptiness. The magic that flowed from you was a defense mechanism, there was no artistry, no passion or love left for the craft. You were empty. A husk of your former self, tormented night and day by those you had lost.

The tent burst back to life, the wicks of the candles flickering back to life, the baby crying once more. Outside the rain pelted onto the fabric of the tent, the wind howling and screeching as it tore through the camp. Even the river roared, its banks overflowing. And you were no longer a storm, instead just a scared little girl. The beast you had possessed, the power that prowled and snarled beneath your skin gone. It was lost with the wind.

“The promises you hold yourself to will be your downfall,” You utter with the last of your breath, not even bothering to check the reactions of those in the tent. Instead you walk past Bucky, opening the tent flap and walking directly into the storm outside.

The winds had grown since you had been outside, almost instantly drenched by the side-ways rain that assaulted you in icy sheets. Your arms went to wrap around your torso, protecting your shivering form from the strong winds that whipped the air straight from your lungs. No one dared to follow you into the madness, even the other members of the horde had retreated into their tents to hunker down for the rest of the night.

Staggering against the gales of wind, you were unsure if you were crying from the whipping wind piercing your eyes, or from the confrontation from moments before. A sob from deep inside your chest was lost to the crashing of the storm, lightning momentarily lightning up the ground beneath you. The river was overflowing, waters pulling dangerously close to the tree you had been tied to.

Despite all things warning you to stay away, to find a warm tent somewhere, you pressed deeper into the storm until your legs gave in from a mixture of the battle against the strong winds and the exhaustion of the past few hours. You were overwhelmed by grief, everything you had lived for was for nothing. Your mother had died for nothing. You missed her, and you had never been allowed to mourn her. You had never been allowed to mourn all the lives lost in Idamir during the final raids. So many months you had spent in your fathers clutches, so many weeks you had allowed yourself to be doubted by the horde that could save you. You were a fool and a coward, you had allowed hope and your desire to live dominate your senses. Your fate, your destiny, it would not be one worth living. You wished to just tell Bucky the truth, why your father kept you at his manor. But fear clutched your heart, fear that maybe he would hand you over regardless.

There was no kindness left in your world, only the cruel hand of fate and death. You were ready to outstretch your own hand and let them carry you away.

Your hair was slick against your face and neck, clothes painfully snapping against your shivering skin as they were pulled to-and-fro by the wind. Your knees connected with the muddy bank of the river, chest heaving as you leaned against the tree. You wove the rope you had previously tied to around your palm. The river was violent, brown water roaring past with large branches and trunks of trees caught in its current. You wished you could wade into the depths, let the currents pull you away. You would be the rock with the three knots, your father the fever you washed away.

But once again, you were a coward. Instead you lay your head down against the wet ground, watching as the river swelled. You were so tired, so weak. You could only hope the river would take mercy on you and sweep you away in your sleep. That when you opened your eyes again, only the darkness of death would greet you.

xxx

You awoke to the sound of Nat’s voice. For a moment, you wondered if the storm had carried you all away. You could imagine the river swelling further, banks bursting into the camp and sweeping the entire horde away. Nat’s voice floated above you, calling with worry. Despite your best efforts, the call of the darkness was stronger than the will to open your eyes. You slipped in between two worlds, the peacefulness of rest and the torture of Nat poking and proding above you.

Your neck and back ached, legs up to your thighs submerged in a thin layer of water. You flashed between hot and cold, hair laden with mud stuck across your flushed skin. A set of cool fingers were pressed against your forehead, another worried mumble coming from the woman.

“Is she alive?” Another similar voice asked, deeper and male. Steve. You almost stirred at that, the soft feeling of fur tickling your exposed skin as if he had draped his cloak over your frail body.

“Barely. She won’t wake,” Nat whispered in a hushed tone to the warrior, pushing some of the stiff hair that had dried against your cheek. Her fingers paused with a jolt as the sound of mud squelching beneath boots drew closer, an annoyed grunt leaving the lips of whoever lingered nearby. Even in your delirious state, you knew who it was. You tried to focus your mind on the rush of the nearby river, the call of the birds that had returned now the storm had passed.

“Wake her and give her some food.” The gruff voice of Bucky instructed.

“She won’t wake up.” Natasha repeated to the horselord, fingers skimming over your scorching skin.

“She is probably faking it,” Bucky replied with a huff. “Hoping we will forget her so she can make her escape.”

“No. Bucky, she’s feverish and her pulse is weak, I can barely feel it–” Natasha explained, upset clear in her voice. You could hear the rustle of clothing, as if Steve had reached out to her as he hand was quickly withdrawn from your face.

The three of them were silent, for a moment you thought you had slipped away into unconsciousness once more. Instead Bucky spoke up once more, this time uncharacteristic worry in his voice. “Show me.”

There was more movement, then a set of large callused fingers tenderly pressed against your neck. Bucky was silent as he felt your slow pulse, the back of his free hand delicately brushing against your forehead to feel your temperature.

“This is your fault,” Nat hissed from somewhere nearby. “She is the one you told us to look for, the one with the symbol. She’s supposed to help us and all you have done is ruin everything.”

“Quiet, Nat.” Steve grumbled in response. Bucky’s touch didn’t waver as he continued to assess your condition.

“No! You be quiet. You always defend him. She was right, Bucky. Your promises to yourself will not only cause your downfall but the death of us all! As much as we deny it, the Garwic soldiers are slaughtering the south in mass! We can’t hold on for much longer!” Nat snapped, only then did Bucky withdraw his touch with a loud sigh.

“I fear you are right.” He replied defeatedly, leaving the two warriors in a stunned silence. Only then do you try your best to open your eyes, to reach out for the horselord but strength alludes you once more.

To your surprise, Bucky doesn’t retreat in shame at this realization. Instead you feel a pair of arms scoop you up, one holding you by the crook of your knee, the other behind your shoulder blades. Your side is pressed up against Bucky’s chest, body limp and at the mercy of his gait as he carries you back into the camp. You try to open your eyes once more, trying to grip the forearm that holds you close but you cannot. You are so cold, skin covered in goosebumps and wracked with chills. Your limbs feel stiff and frozen, but burning with fever all at once. You head lulls with each step, hair thick with mud dangling freely.

The murmurs of camp merge into one, the sounds of construction and voices all jumbled into a symphony of noise. You can’t find the effort to isolate one voice or gasp of worry. Instead your mind falls blank, only snapping back as you feel the heat of a fire against your skin. You are placed down onto soft furs with delicate care, fingers pulling the strands of hair from your face.

“Nat, undress her from those wet clothes. We need to get her warm and dry.” Bucky instructs, which is met with a confirming noise from Nat who is quickly by your side. Only as Nat pulls you into a sitting position, are you able to open your eyes weakly. If the woman notices, she doesn’t reveal it. Instead she works on pulling off your shirt with some struggle, as she is also supporting your bodyweight.

You are sat in what you assume is Bucky’s tent, as the tent is larger than most you had previously been in. The room is decorated with not only a make-shift fire place, rugs and a bed but a table covered in a worn paper map. Near the entrance, Bucky and Steve stand near the tent flaps muttering under their breath to each other.

Nat had flicked your hair over your shoulders so they covered your breasts, huffing as she tried to pull the shirt over your head. Only then did your body go rigid, a sudden energy rushing through your veins as you tense in fear. You were unsure if it was muscle memory that triggered the fight or flight, or your feverish brain finally kicking into motion.

“Nat stop,” You suddenly speak up. Your voice is gravelly and weak, Nat only chuckling in response and half in relief like she was glad you were suddenly revived.

“I’ve seen you naked before.” She replied light-heartly, as if thinking that were the issue. Your hands twisted around your body, trying to weakly locate her hands to stop her as she dragged the shirt further up your back.

“Nat–” You start weakly, but are cut off by her sudden stiffness. A gasp leaves her, shirt finally risen past your shoulders where your entire back was exposed to her eyes. You squeeze your eyes closed, swallowing back defeated tears. How many weeks, months had you kept it hidden? Everytime you bathed you always made sure your long strands of hair obscured your back from vision. You didn’t want them to know, you knew it would bring up too many questions. Questions you wouldn’t want to answer.

“Nat, please–” you begin to beg, eyes flickering open once more but you know it is pointless. You don’t even have to turn to face her to know her eyes would be laced with horror.

Your back was a reminder, at least that's what your father called it. A reminder of who you were, what you were and even after you became something new, it would remind you that you were always a weak, magic-using commoner. It was bold for the horde to assume that just because you were the dukes blood, that he wouldn’t treat you with the same cruelty that he treated all his prisoners.

Your back was lined with scars, some fresher than others. Each white line arced across your once smooth skin, some flat and sharp, other raised and gnarled like the knots in a tree. They overlapped each other, months of suffering and hatred forever carved into your skin. A reminder of who you were. A reminder of who your father was. A reminder that despite everything, the scars inflicted across your back was not the worst pain, the worst trial you would face. No, what your father had planned for you was far worse. And you could not escape.

“Bucky, look at this.” Nat calls out, distress laced in her tone. Your head dips in defeat, too weak to fight back as the two warriors walk over with curiosity. Nat holds the shirt firmly up, not allowing you to squirm and hide it as you flinch away from Bucky’s sudden closeness as he crouches beside you.

Both him and Steve are wordless, exhaustion tugs at your bones as you focus on trying to hold yourself up-right and breathing steadily while their eyes rake over the exposed scars. Your eyes see Bucky’s fists first, balled up and grown white with strain as he clenches around the fur of the rugs. Your eyes slowly shifted up, over his forceps where veins bulge, across the furred cloak draped over his shoulders before finally resting on his face. And to your surprise, his expression wasn’t one of disgust or pity. Instead it was one of rage.

Bucky’s eyes snap to yours, the burning hatred swirling beyond the blue softening slightly as he takes in your defeated, muddy face. “Who did this?”

You bite back a laugh at the absurdity of it all. “Who do you think?”

“But why? You are his daughter, his blood–”

“You really think that would have stopped him? Stopped his cruelty? He did it not only because he enjoyed it but because he hated me.” You reply, letting the bubble of anxious laughter finally leave your chest. You feel as if hysteria has finally gripped you, you’re unsure if you’re sobbing or laughing as Steve’s fingers tenderly brush over the scars.

“You’re still hiding something.” Bucky states, fingers finding your chin as he forces you to look at him. You bite your tongue, laughter falling silent as you gaze up at him. His look is softer than any he had ever given you. He gazed upon you with that tenderness, as if asking how he could help you, rather than demanding information from you like a captor and hostage.

“I will tell you, but you have to promise me something.” You say to him, gaze momentarily flickering to your mothers knife that still hung from his belt, like the first day you had met. His gaze follows yours, a deep frown flickering over his features.

“Promise you what?” He asks, beside you Steve and Nat are silent, breaths drawn in anticipation.

“No matter what happens, you must kill me. Let the fever take me, slit my throat, I do not care. You must ignore the ransom, you must kill me because I would rather die than return to him.”

“Why?” Bucky asks, he sounds breathless.

“Promise me.” You insist.

“I will promise after you tell me why.”

“I need you to promise first Bucky.” Your voice grew into desperate rasps, fists curling around the fur rugs beneath you as you leaned closer to him. A silence grows in the tent as Bucky seems to contemplate his next words.

“Promise me.” You demand, tears threatening to surface.

“I won’t kill you.” He states simply, unable to meet your eye as a noise of anguish leaves your lips.

“Why? Why won’t you just kill me!” You were now edging on shouting, limbs trembling. “Do you know how long I have suffered? Do you not understand that I am done with all of this?”

The three warriors were silent once again, Steve and Nat glancing towards Bucky whose lips pressed together in a concerned frown, yet he continued to deny the promise you demanded. You had thought for a moment that maybe he cared when he brought you in here, that perhaps a part of him felt sorry for all the cruel words he had spoken. Once again, you had the crawling sensation of defeat lingering in your chest, a feeling that you had been tricked or deceived into thinking you could be saved.

“That day you took the manor, I was moments away from slitting my own throat in my fathers drawing room.” A sound half-way between a sob and a laugh bubbling in your chest. “I thought that the horde coming there was some kind of sign, some kind of intervention by fate.”

“What?” Steve asks in disbelief. Your eyes flutter upwards, as if tempting fate itself to strike you down for your foolishness.

“I didn’t go through with it, but now I can see that was a mistake.” You utter.

Only in that moment does Bucky finally offer up a noise, sighing heavily through his nose. Your eyes remain transfixed on the ceiling of the tent. You fear that if you look down that tears would spill, instead most of your focus going into controlling the fever chills that shook your fragile frame.

“If you won’t tell me your reasoning, I cannot promise you anything.” Bucky says. Your eyes finally flutter down, locking in a tense stare with Bucky’s.

“I suppose we are at a standstill.” He states, getting to his feet. “I cannot help you if you will not tell me.”

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes series #marvel au #marvel fic #marvel #fantasy au #the horselords of naraik

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ebitchwriting · 9 months

Text

Dragged Into The Blood

Story Stummary: Never staying in one place for long, moving nearly every year, Lea Anderson was used to impermanence, chaos, and having to leave everything behind at the drop of a hat. Lea never expected that she would be kidnapped and wake up in a rusted, decrepit prison cell because of a madman's delusional belief in eugenics and cleansing the Earth of imperfection. By herself, with only the clothing on her back, she will have to rely on luck and logic to escape before she's killed or worse.

Chapter Summary: Finding Claire and Moira was a miracle in and of itself in this desolate abandoned building, Lea knows that. She should be grateful, she is grateful. But Lea's tenuous grasp on her inhuman abilities is already struggling far more than she wishes. Memories thought to be long gone struggling to push itself to the surface. Not that it matter, none of it matters. All that matters is that she escapes this hellhole before she becomes a worse monster than she already is.

Chapter Warnings: disassociation, blood, gore, death, unhealthy coping mechanisms

Well, it certainly has been a hot minute. Sorry for the late update; I swear I didn't abandon this story! Basically, the MA Apprenticeship program I'm in right now has been chaotic as fuck due to poor planning on the supervisor's end, I had to move back in with my dad, and I'm also finally making myself sit down and work on my manuscript for my epic fantasy novel(which is not Dragged Into The Blood adapted as an original work). I also noticed that despite my using Grammarly, several chapters here have several typos and grammatical errors that are driving me up the wall, so I've been going back through the chapters and fixing them(On Ao3 side). Luckily it seems only Ch1,2, 6, 7, 8, and 9 seem to suffer from that. Regardless, hope you enjoy this chapter!

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17.

Chapter 14: The Escape... Again

Lea's gaze glazed over from behind the sash, and all sound became indistinguishable. Just muffled, echoing nonsense, overlapping each other into static. Her mind felt foggy and empty, all except for the confirmation that despite her best efforts, she was yet again an experiment in someone's cruel game. Hands twitching, a slithering feeling growing more intense with every passing second. Breaths, short and rapid.

'… Nothing I did mattered…' The screeching of the rusted door opening fell on vacant ears as she stared at nothing, swaying in place.

Only when a hand tentatively brushed against her shoulder did she snap out of it, flinching back to reality and away from the foreign touch. Lea reflexively brought her hands up, ready for a fight, but stopped herself from grabbing the unknown hand and breaking it as she finally recognized the burgundy leather of Claire's jacket. Lea stole a glance up and saw the evident concern etched on her face. Lea shook her head, stepping back from the hand that started to inch back to her.

"I'm fine…" Lea grumbled under her breath, stepping back from Claire, shoulders still taut and tense. Bracing herself to be berated for acting like a child, told to grow up, and pushed endlessly to explain herself until she was desperate for an escape and ready to do whatever it took to be alone. To her surprise, despite Claire's worry, she didn't do any of that. She just nodded, gave her a reassuring but thin smile, and walked toward the door. From beneath the cloth wrapping, Lea's eyes widened, then narrowed, and Lea fought to hold in a growling hiss.

'… Why am I still surprised that not everyone acts like Dad…' Shaking her head, Lea strode forward, falling in line next to Moira, and followed Claire, decidedly not making eye contact and instead keeping her eyes trained on the decrepit building.

The metallic scent that Lea could practically taste and the bright, fresh red bloodstains immediately caught her attention. A pit fell in her stomach as her eyes followed how the trail led toward the only other path. Briefly closing her eyes, Lea strained her ears. Wet, rasping gasps, undoubtedly of someone struggling to hold in their sobs, reached her first. At the same time, Lea could pick up another's harsh, wet, and pained gasping, but it didn't sound like someone on the verge of death. By the choking sounds, it sounded more like they were struggling to calm down. The almost feral sound made the little hair that remained on the back of her neck stand straight. After concentrating on the sounds, Lea hissed under her breath as she realized that with the layout of the abandoned building, it was too difficult to tell where exactly they were or which was closer. All she could tell was that they were near.

Lea's gut twists further with dread after Clarie pushes the next door open, revealing a narrow hallway only briefly illuminated by the flickering light hanging by its wire. Oddly enough, though, there weren't any streaks of blood here. Unfortunately, however, as the three walked past the lone gurney, they found their path was blocked off by a fallen storage shelf.

"I think we can squeeze under this," Claire observed, walking up to the fallen shelf and gripping one side. "Give me a hand, Moira," Claire called out, and Lea awkwardly shifted in place, almost reaching a hand out but, in an instant, letting it fall. With a grunt, Claire lifted the shelf. "Go!" Claire called out as clearly and quietly as she could, her voice strained. Moira wasted no time in hurrying under, with Lea following past her.

As soon as they passed, Moira went to grab the edge of the shelf, keeping it upright. For a second time, Lea awkwardly shifted in place, wanting to reach out and do the heaving lifting herself, but a strong jolt of fear stopped her.

'… I don't know how she'll react… I don't want to be a monster…' Looking around, Lea saw yet another shelf blocked off the hallway. Without another thought or waiting for Claire, Lea approached it and started to push it forward.

"Lea, hold on," Lea heard Claire whisper-shout from behind her, quickly followed by the loud slamming sound of the shelf being let go. Lea winced at the volume, then lifted a hand to wave off Claire's concern.

"You two did the work last time. Let me-" Before Lea could finish what she was saying, a loud, ear-bleeding shriek pierced the ambient silence of the walkway. In an instant, Lea was on her back, using the shelf to shield herself from the person clambering and swiping at her. She could feel her heart thudding at the sight of what used to be a man in front of her. The flesh on his face was messily sewn back together, and the eyelids were sewn entirely shut. Massive iron nails protruded through the arms, which flailed around, trying to claw at her.

Then, just as suddenly, a knife slashes at the ruined arm. Once. Twice. Thrice. Then, the fourth time seems to finally register. The attacker practically leaped off the shelf, running back down around the corner. Lea stared at where it was, eyes glazed over and breathing short and rapid. She didn't protest as Claire gripped the edges of the shelf and took over, moving it forward.

"Oh my God, what the fuck?" Moira's words barely registered to her, muffled and sounding almost like they were a mile away as something started to sharply ring louder and louder. Lea's mind felt like it was turning to cotton, and her limbs seemed nailed to the ground. It wasn't until something nudged her that Lea was brought back to the present. A quick glance up, and she's met with the equally terrified and concerned gaze of Moira, still clutching the flashlight to her chest. With a shake of the head, Lea forces her heavy limbs to grab purchase and push herself back onto her feet.

"That was close," Claire's voice cuts through, out of breath yet surprisingly calm as she continues to push, the scrapping of the metal against the ground echoing in the eerie silence. The horrid noise finally stopped as the shelf met with the edge of a desk, opening a new path. "Come on, stay behind me." Claire called out, motioning them to follow. Neither Lea nor Moira complained about the order and fell in line.

Just as soon as they started to get close to the already wide-open creaking door, an ear-piercing scream broke the newfound silence, quickly followed by the deranged wails from the attacker. Claire wasted no time breaking out into a sprint, chasing after them. Moira and Lea shared a look before running after her, practically slipping as they bounded corners and ducked under fallen furniture.

"Holy shit, it's going to fucking kill her!" Moira shouted, mostly to herself, panting between each word as they followed Claire in her pursuit. The poor woman's terrified screams and the disturbing grunting of the butchered man still bounced off the walls.

In seemingly no time, Claire and Moira came to a screeching halt. Lea, however, realized far too late the barrier ahead and ran face-first into the steel bars. To her surprise, the contraption held up instead of crumpling or denting in.

'… Way to go… Just tell everyone in this fucking hellhole where we are… Fuckin' at least Chris taught me how not to run through walls…' Lea stepped back, a hand reaching up to hide her quickly reddening face and to block off whatever looks she was sure Claire and Moira were giving her.

Thankfully, without a word, the other two simply went up to the steel bars and grabbed the bottom. Within a moment, they were holding the security contraption up. Lea wasted no time going under and to the other side, and as soon as the other two joined her, they let go of the steel curtain. The contraption slams down, deafening the halls.

Shuffling steps. Wet and ragged gasps. The coppery stench of fresh blood. Then, out of the shadows and into the dim light came that poor woman, drenched in her own blood, with a tight grip on her torso as she limped forward. Lea watched in a dazed shock as she collapsed in Claire's arms, all strength leaving her limbs.

"The animal eyes! Oh God…" After a few more wet, rasping breaths, the woman went utterly still and silent. Dead. Lea stared at the woman, even when Claire laid her down gently.

Suddenly, it's as if Lea's no longer in the deteriorating building but elsewhere. She's no longer standing but lying on her back. Oh, so familiar yet alien images of an empty, sterile laboratory room flash in and out, darkness tinging the edges of her sight. It's like her limbs are covered in lead, cold and oppressing and constricting her lungs. Gasps echo in the abandoned room. As Lea turned her head, she was met with the gaunt face of a small child, dark-skinned, tight curls. Lea could see the light fade from her eyes, the rise and fall of her skeletal chest grow still, leaving her alone. A room of corpses. A soft sob escapes Lea's lips. She knew her, yet she didn't, and it felt like a hole was being ripped right in the center of her chest.

Just as suddenly as the memory came, it disappeared when a hand gently but firmly took hold of her shoulder. Lea flinched but stopped herself from darting off and away as her covered eyes met with Claire's carefully guarded yet distraught gaze, wet from held in tears.

'… It's just Claire… It doesn't matter… Just focus on getting out of here…'

"Sorry… let's just get a move on…" Lea muttered, stepping around the body, not sparing a look down. While her sight was slightly hazy and obscured by the cloth, it didn't block out nearly as much as the broken teen had thought. From the corner of her eye, she could see the other anxious girl send a look toward Claire. She gave Moira a small and almost unnoticeable nod before thankfully moving past the bloodied corpse and rounding the corner.

"I can hear the wind out there. This must be the way out." Moira spoke up. Her tone was hopeful this time, and her cadence hardly had any nervous tremors. Lea tilted her head, straining her ears to listen for what Moira picked up on. After a short moment, she could hear it, but from where and how far was the real question.

'… What the actual fuck is the point of this super hearing bullshit if it's absolutely useless in abandoned buildings…'

"I hope it's close…" Lea muttered, awkwardly shifting her head to look down at the ground, rubbing at her arms.

"We just need to find a way through," Claire reassured, voice gentle yet firm. She descended the staircase, covered with dried and fresh fragrant blood. After one flight of stairs, though, the group nearly froze at the sight of yet another relatively fresh corpse.

"What kind of whack-job… this is not ok!" Moira exclaimed, face scrunched up in disgust. Lea agreed wholeheartedly as she observed how the guard's throat was lacerated roughly and to the bone, and how he was hung by his feet. It reminded her of pigs butchered and hung to drain all the blood into buckets. Unfortunately, the dead body had something handy: a set of keys, a way out of this new hellscape.

Claire, nose scrunched up with disgust as well but paired with unsurprised eyes, calmly walked as close as she could to the edge of the walkway. Reaching out, she inched closer and closer to the hanging body. Lea watched with hushed breath, eyes darting from the glinting metal to the bloodied hands, back and forth. Just as Claire's fingertips brushed the edge of the largest key ring, a latch unlocked, and the body fell limply to the base with a loud and wet slam.

"Well, that blows."

"Are you fucking kidding me…"

A blaring noise fills the silence, the same one that sounded off before their cell doors slid open. All three snap their heads in the direction of it. At the end of the stairs was a door with a new glowing green light.

'… I'm so tired of these games…'

#dragged into the blood #original character #resident evil #resident evil revelations 2 #resident evil fanfiction #claire redfield #moira burton #don't expect too much activity the ice storm took my power #ao3 link #ao3 fanfic

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buckyhoney-library · 3 years

Text

worst behavior, b.b

A/N: Surprise, i released it earlier than expected! I just- i hope you enjoy, bc this is probably the filthiest thing i've written- i also changed the plot a little bit!

Request: hiiii could i request a one-shot where professor!bucky sees you eyeing his metal arm bc he pushed his sleeves up one hot day and proceeds to keep you after class to do smth abt it? you can make it as kinky as you like, maybe some degrading and breeding if you’re comfortable w that! ugh i’m a whore for professor!bucky

reblogs & likes are greatly appreciated & highly encouraged

Warnings: 18+, professor!bucky, dom!bucky, age gap (f early 20's), degrading kink, public masturbation, oral (m&f), fingering, spanking, light choking, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, sorry for any missed typos!

Word Count: 4.6k, you already know i get carried away with bucky

You shuffle through the hallways of the historic building. The walls are decorated with paintings and engravings. Students walking in various directions making the hallway crowded and hard to get through. Every now and then, students would stop to talk to friends or professors. This halts the moving traffic, causing jams and irritated groans from other students. The satisfaction sets in when you glance down at the time and notice it’s nine fifty-seven. In three minutes, you’ll be officially late to class.

The other classes you take bore you- making it hard to stay focused. They are the generic first-year classes that everybody dreads. You always end up doodling or drifting in and out of sleep throughout the period- but this class? This is the only class that excites you.

World History with Professor Barnes.

You wake up extra early in the morning to get ready for his class. You put a little more effort into your appearance than the other classes. The thought of the professors and students seeing you in sweats and hoodie didn’t bother you. Professor Barnes’s class on the other hand- you made sure you looked put together. His lecture has you wanting to wear the shortest sundresses with little to nothing underneath them.

Being late to Professor Barnes’s class is frowned upon and requires immediate attention when it becomes excessive. The immediate attention was an after-hours meeting with Professor Barnes to discuss what could possibly be more important than his lecture.

The first time you showed up late, happened to be the first day of class. When you rushed into the lecture hall, your heart nearly stopped by the man in front of you. Brunette hair’s swept back, piercing blue eyes, and a button-up that looked a size too small- showing off his bulging biceps. The fitted navy-blue button-up was rolled up to his elbows and a few buttons were undone. His biceps on full display through the material- showing off the vibranium. You swallowed hard as he began to scold you in front of the entire hall.

“I do not tolerate tardiness. Enough tardies require a private meeting after hours.” His light blue eyes never broke contact with yours, darkening with lust the longer he looks at you- taking you all in.

It was almost as if he was telling you to be late. There is a faint heartbeat between your legs, you cross them in fear he could hear the throbbing from where he stands. You began to daydream about the warm metal wrapped around your throat, while his other fingers were buried inside you. Or the prints that would be left against the flesh of your ass. You nod slowly with the most innocent eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Professor Barnes. I had gotten lost. It will never happen again.” You say innocently, playing up the role- even going as far as pouting your lips.

Bucky’s cock twitched at the sight of your puffed-out lips. Begging to be made an example out of you in front of the class. You smile back at him, patiently waiting to be excused to your seat.

“Make sure it doesn’t happen again, Ms?”

“Y/L/N.” You purr.

“You may find a seat Ms. Y/L/N.”

He looks are you properly, eyeing you up and down. His eyes fixated on your hips, swaying side to side as you walk up the steps, your skirt flapping up behind you- teasing him. Bucky knew you were going to be trouble this semester- and trouble is exactly what you had been for the last month.

You did everything in your power to get him to keep you after class. Bucky is getting more and more fed up with you- acting so innocent. He knew damn well that you want nothing more than to have your pretty little mouth stuffed with his cock- gagging and gasping for breath.

He hates that you are pretending like you had no idea the amount of frustration you are causing him. The amount of self-control Bucky exhibits is astounding. Especially on the days, you come in wearing close to nothing- claiming it was ‘just too hot outside’ or when you sit in the front row with a lollipop in your mouth, exaggerating the moans as you suck the red hard candy.

You straighten out the wrinkles out of the floral baby blue sundress, before turning the knob on the door.

“Ms. Y/L/N. You’re late- again.” Professor Barnes states sternly, not bothering to look at you.

Bucky caught a glimpse out of the side of his eye- you were wearing his favorite dress and knew he couldn’t look at you in the eye without taking you right there.

This is Bucky’s favorite dress. He loves the way it holds your breasts higher and how it hangs over the curve of your ass so nicely.

How much prettier would the dress look across his lap.

Bucky can’t take his eyes off of you when you walk and the dress flows with every step- sometimes a little too much. This grants him a sneak peek of your favorite lacey white panties- or sometimes the lack thereof. He stiffens at the sight of the fabric covering your pretty little cunt, taunting him.

For the past month, all Bucky could think about is that cunt. How tight you’d be around him- hearing you whimper and whine when he finally enters you, stretching you out to fit perfectly. He wonders if you could take him all at once or if he needs to warm you up with his fingers- but the thing he thought about the most: how sweet you must taste. The question alone could get him off.

How desperately he wants a taste of you.

“Mr. Barnes I am sorry-“ You begin to play into your act before he cut you off,

“Find your seat.” He still not bothering to look at you.

Disappointment floods your face from the lack of attention. In an effort for payback, you sit in the first row already pouting. He began the lecture by discussing the homework he had assigned the night before. You reach into your bag, pulling out the folder.

Expecting you to be in your usual spot in the back of the lecture hall, Bucky clenches his jaw at the sight of you sitting with your legs crossed shut in the front row, with your elbows on the small desk and hands cupping your face in boredom. His cock began to stir. Your breasts press together against the thin fabric- that is working extra hard to keep your breasts from being on display for everyone.

You see the frustration written on his face the moment he finally looks at you. You smirk at the successful payback.

The class goes on, but the material bores you. You begin to stare at Professor Barnes. You could hear the small adjustments from the vibranium as he moves about the lecture hall. Your breath hitches when he rolls his sleeves up. His biceps bulging against the fabric, a faint throbbing begins between your legs. You bite the inside of your cheek holding back a whimper. You squirm in your seat, uncrossing your legs to press them together to relieve some pressure.

The sinful thought begins to overtake your mind, only making the throbbing worse by the added arousal pooling against the lace. Checking each side of you, you look to see if there are any other students close enough to you that were about to witness this risky act. There are students staggered behind you, but only a couple dare to sit in the first rows. They are intently listening to their professor- who has his attention on the chalkboard.

You swallow a lump, attempting to steady your breathing. You slip your hand below the desk, resting it on your upper thigh. With one more quick scan of the room, you slip your hand underneath your dress.

You inhale sharply at the contact with your aching cunt. The slow circles you draw over your lacey panties release a wave of pleasure. Your lips part and your eyes flutter. The idea of someone catching you- the idea of him catching you? Made the arousal seep through the material getting on your fingers. You close your eyes dreaming about how Bucky’s fingers would dip between your folds, collecting the arousal and forcing you to taste yourself. You could imagine the pornographic scene play out in your mind, the heavy panting and degrading remarks- your fingers slip inside the thin fragile material. The satisfaction of making direct contact with the bundle of nerves makes it almost impossible to bit back any moans. Instead, you let out silent breaths.

Your imagination continues with his fingers going back between the folds, teasing the entrance- making you whine. Bucky’s other hand groping your breasts harshly. The focus is solely on the clit that throws you hurtling toward your orgasm. You brace yourself for the pleasurable release.

Bucky turns around to flip the page of the textbook when he sees it- sees your legs parted with your middle and ring finger rubbing circles over your clit. He holds his breath, not believing the whore in front of him. Your pants becoming faster and heavier. The pleasure begins to boil over, sending you over the edge. You remove your fingers covering your mouth to muffle the whimpers.

When you come down enough to open your eyes, your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach. Red flushing your cheeks and your chest tightens- you have been caught. His jaw hung open in disbelief at what he just witnessed. This is the final straw, touching yourself in class? Cumming in class- in front of him. There is no hiding the growing bulge in his pants.

Bucky slams shut the textbook, The other students sit in confusion at the sudden outburst from their Professor.

“Make sure you read the rest of the chapter. Class dismissed.” He almost growls.

Bucky takes cover at his desk, covering any evidence of an erection. He pulls a random stack of papers to distract himself from the bulge in his pants.

You hurry to pack away your things- you know that you are in a world of trouble and wish to leave the room as fast as possible.

You pull the bag over your shoulder and head straight for the door, not making eye contact with anyone.

“Ms. Y/L/N. Stay.” His voice booming in the near-empty room.

You freeze in your tracks, holding your breath. You turn around to face the furious man seated behind the desk. The one man that now held all the power to expel you. You feel small and weak the closer you get to his desk. He waits till the last student leaves the room.

“Yes, Professor Barnes?” Anxiety begins to stir in the pit of your stomach.

“We need to discuss your behavior. Follow me.” The demand making you shiver.

Your legs wobble as you follow him to the room just off the lecture hall. It is his office. It is bigger than you have imagined it. The smell of oak and cigars filling your lungs the moment you enter. His dark mahogany desk is the focal point of the room. The walls are decorated with artwork he had collected over the years. The dark brown curtains are pulled shut. The only light source being the two standing lamps on reside on each side of his bookshelf. Knick-knacks covering the surfaces of the shelves and desk.

“Sit.” His voice is stern laced with lust.

The restricting fabric of the briefs and pants makes the bulge painful. You sit in the chair in front of his desk with your ankles crossed and hands in your lap.

“First, you’re late to my class.” He is stalks around you- like your prey. His arms crossed tightly against his chest.

“Then, you wear this provocative dress.” Bucky’s fingers glide up your arm, grazing over the thin strap on your shoulder. His touch burning your skin.

“Then, you proceed to touch yourself in the middle of my lecture- cumming all over yourself like a disgusting little whore.” His words starting up the throbbing.

Bucky leans against the edge of the desk and your eyes are fixated on your lap- not daring to make eye contact.

“I have every right to expel you,” You inhale preparing yourself.

“-but I’m not going to.” Your eyes shoot up meeting his.

They’re filled to the brim with lust and desire. You gain a boost of confidence soars through you with the knowledge that you aren’t getting expelled.

He tilts your chin up to him, getting a better look at you. Using your chin to turn your face to each side- examining the mouth that will soon be full of him.

Bucky runs his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling at it- parting your lips. You push your head forward, taking his thumb in your mouth- closing your lips around him. You hum, innocently locking eyes with him.

You had no idea what you just started.

A devilish grin tugs on the corners of his mouth at the sight of you taking his thumb. You hallow your cheeks, sucking gently.

“What a good little slut.” He purrs. Bucky removes his thumb and stands.

“But, you’re not getting off that easily. Come.”

You stand to your feet moving to stand in front of him. The throbbing increases between your thighs and the arousal seeping through your panties. Bucky looks down at you touching your shoulder and neck. He finally rests his hand on your cheek, rubbing the flesh gently. You swallow, tensing and untensing your jaw. Bucky sense your nerves,

“It’s okay, princess- you’ll only be a little sore.” Your heart skips a beat.

Your panties are now drenched in your wetness and you swear he could hear the throbbing. You dreamt for this day. He pulls your lips to his. Finally meeting yours. It is slow and passionate; you didn’t know if you could touch him- but he has his hands holding the sides of your face.

“On your knees.” His voice is low and dark.

You drop to your knees. You’re now eye to eye with his bulge. The hardened cock makes your mouth water. You lick your lips, looking at him before you reach for his belt. He nods granting you permission. The belt is undone along with the button of his dress pants. Your slow movements have Bucky in a trance. His eyes don’t leave you.

You tug the pants down, his length still trapped behind the black briefs. You feel his length and hear a low groan escapes his mouth. You place small pecks on top of the clothed member. You are salivating with every kiss, growing more eager. The underwear is pulled down, freeing the aggravated cock. It’s red and looks like it is going to burst within seconds. The girth and length surprises you and you begin to wonder if you can even fit him inside you- let alone your mouth. Nerves build within you and hesitantly look up at Professor Bucky.

“I don’t know if it will fit,” Your voice is quiet, he chuckles and lifts your chin once more.

“Make it fit.” His voice is just above a whisper, but dark and stern.

At that moment you realize that this wasn’t going to be a quick punishment. He is going to make you wish you never wore short dresses, late to his class, or cum in front of him. Bucky licks his lips in awe of how beautiful you looked kneeling in front of him. All the fantasies are about to come true.

You take his length in your small hands; you use both hands to warm him up- slowly building him up. The strokes begin slow and sloppy. Your thumb going over his tip. It’s angry and swollen, it’s begging to be drained. You rub small circles around it- mimicking your movements from earlier. Bucky’s breathing becomes slow pants. The pleasure building with each stroke.

You mentally prepare yourself, collecting all the saliva you could to the front of your mouth. You flicker your eyes up, the grin that grows on his face as you close your lips around his tip encourages you. His fingers tangle in your hair, gripping the strands at the root.

“Yes, take my cock in your mouth you filthy slut.” You hum around him.

He begins to slowly push your head closer to his pelvis, forcing you to take more of him. You were only halfway down his shaft when you gripped his thighs for support. Your ankles are crossed behind you and you are leaning back sitting on your feet.

Bucky didn’t care about staying silent. His low grunts and heavy pants left his lips as he grips your hair. The pure bliss he is experiencing is unlike anyone he’s had before. Based on your performance, he knew that you have had experience before. The thought of other men in your mouth drove him insane. His grip on your hair guides your mouth up and down his cock. He became more aggressive with his grip, quickening his pace.

“I just know you’ve been dreaming about my cock filling your mouth, hm? You’re such a stupid slut- wanting to suck your professor’s cock,” He moans.

You’re gagging on his length, trying your hardest to keep from pulling off of him. You hallow your cheeks adding extra pleasure and using one hand to pump the length while he guides your head. The longer you’re taking him in your mouth the less air you’re getting, the veins in your neck become prominent. You dig your nails into his thigh. Bucky hisses at the feeling of your nails sinking into his skin.

“That’s right, princess. You feel so good around my cock,” He purrs watching the tears forming from in the corners of your eyes.

You can’t take anymore without feeling like you were going to choke. Bucky feels the resistance of you attempting to pull off of him. He pushes your head fully down his length, causing a pornographic moan to leave his lips. Bucky yanks the roots of your hair, ripping you off his length. You gasp for air and cough at the sudden ability to breathe. Saliva coats your lips and his thighs.

“You better finish what you started.” Bucky hisses,

You nod wiping your mouth. This time around, he has precum oozing from his tip. You gather it with your thumb and coat the rest of his length, using it as lubrication. You take him once more, this time using both hands and your mouth. The combo is enough to send Bucky into orbit, but when you start sucking his tip and swirling your tongue around it- he knew it would be a matter of seconds before he would release his load.

“You taste so good, Professor.” You hum against his tip, your movements become faster- not bothering with a slow build.

Bucky grips the edge of the desk, you hear the vibranium cracking through the wood. The sound only eggs you on. The sounds of your slurping and moans, cause Bucky to twitch inside your mouth- signaling he is gonna cum at any moment.

Within seconds your mouth is filled with strings of cum. Bucky’s hips buck as your mouth continues to suck him off. The taste of him has become addicting, you want every last drop of him. You pull off of him, wiping up the spilled cum on your chin. Sucking it off of your finger.

“Shit, princess. You did so well finishing every drop.” He pulls you up from your knees.

“-but that doesn’t mean you’re done. You still need to be punished for your behavior in class. Do you understand?” You nod.

Bucky walks behind his desk. You follow, nervous about what your punishment will be.

“You’ve been a bad girl, Y/N. Bend over.” You do as you say.

Your breast smush against the dark wood, your eyes fixated on the photographs of him with family and friends. You smirk to yourself and look back at him. Bucky’s fingers trail up the backs of your thighs. He lifts the pretty blue sundress, finally seeing that perfect ass up close. Bucky’s cock throbs again when he sees that the underwear you’re wearing the cheeky white lace. So innocent, he thought. Bucky runs his palm over the meaty flesh, gripping and jiggling it. He moans at its effortless movement.

“Fuck!” You yelp, his palm makes contact with your ass cheek.

“I told you, princess. You need to be punished. Count them.” Another rough smack.

“Two.” The tears returning to your eyes, but the pleasure overpowers the pain.

You arch your back, wiggling your ass higher in the air, this time, he is able to get a sneak peek of the covered cunt that lived in his mind.

“Three,” This time, your eyes roll back and you’re seeing stars.

Bucky takes notice of just how soaked you are. He pulls the lace with his metal fingers, tearing through them in an effortless tug. The strings of arousal follow the fabric as it is thrown to the ground.

“Oh? You like getting punished? You soaked through your panties. You really are a fucking whore.” He runs his middle finger down your center, your body twitches once he reaches your swollen and needy clit. Bucky kneels, coming face to face with the glistening beauty. His dream is coming to a reality, he is finally going to taste you.

His tongue dips between your folds, causing you to gasp at the unexpected pleasure. Your ass is still in the air and his hands are gripping your inner thigh, pulling them apart, allowing more access to your sopping cunt.

“Just like I imagined it, so fucking sweet.” He is breathless, the taste of you becomes his new favorite flavor.

Bucky’s tongue licks up the access arousal and his thumb rubs small circles around your clit, making you whine against his desk. His mouth begins to place open mouth kisses against you, his tongue dipping inside you. You need something to grip and release the pent-up pleasure but result to releasing through you moans and whines. It is music to Bucky’s ears.

He pulls away from your dripping cunt, kicking your legs open, spreading them- giving him the best access he could get. His mouth returns to you. But this time giving full attention to your clit.

“I’m too big for your hole, princes. I have to stretch you out.” You whine, as his middle and ring finger slide inside you.

You’re a whimpering mess on his desk as his mouth and fingers switched places. His fingers stretching you out and his mouth on your clit. Bucky moans into you at the feeling of your pussy pulsating against his fingers. You are in pure bliss as he pumps his fingers, occasionally curling- hitting the spongey flesh of your g-spot. He swirls his tongue around your clit, sucking on it and releasing it with a pop. You feel yourself hurdling towards your orgasm. The pulsating becomes quicker, and the moans are now endless streams. Bucky knew you’re close to cumming around his fingers, but you had already came today. He removes his fingers and mouth in one swoop, leaving you breathless and irritated.

“You already came today; only well-behaved whores get to cum.”

You stare back at him in anger. Your cheeks are flushed red and you’re panting like you just ran a marathon. He takes amusement at the sight of you looking like a mess.

“Professor, please! I’ve been a good girl!” You whine, wiggling your ass backwards.

“I’ll think about it. It depends on how well you take this cock, princess.” You nod your head, bracing yourself.

Bucky pumps himself a few times before he slides his tip against your cunt. You dreamed of the moment you would feel him inside you. Him sliding into you and filling you up. The need and desire overtaking you and bucking your hips into his cock.

“I said to be good.” A more aggressive smack lands on your ass, this time he used the vibranium. You yelp in pain, knowing there is going to be a handprint on your ass. Branding you.

You gasp at the sudden fullness.

“I was going to be gentle, since you are not used to a cock as big as me, but since you want to be an inpatient slut- now I’m not going too.” Bucky rams his cock into you, giving you no time to adjust to his size.

He grunts at the sound of your whines and whimpers. He grips your hips using it to increase his speed. The purple and red marks form, where his fingers dig into you. Bucky groans at how tight you feel around him. The resistance from your walls getting him closer and closer.

Bucky continues at his pace while, but this time gripping the back of your neck. He tugs you back, lifting you. Your hands palm down on the desk, using it as stability. One of his hands pins your hands behind your back. Bucky pulls you back, flushing your bodies together. His fingers wrap around your neck. Your head falls back against his shoulder moaning at the sensation of his fingers around your throat. Bucky’s rhythm doesn’t slow down now that you’re standing. Your legs are still wide allowing him to go deep and hard.

“You’re such a dirty fucking slut, you know that?” You couldn’t even think.

You have entered another world. Your hands are still pinned behind you and your eyes are rolling back from the feeling of his other. All you could do is moan and sink into his cock.

“Fucking yourself in front of the class and cumming all over yourself- you fucking loved the idea of getting caught huh? I bet you would love someone to walk through that door and catch me fucking your sweet cunt.”

His words only push you further into nirvana. Your legs begin to feel weak, and the responsibility of standing is becoming too much. Bucky notices the sudden inability to stand.

“You gonna cum, princess?” You are barely able to function. You moan in response and he thrusts quicken- if that is even possible.

“Cum, princess. Cum around my cock,”

You see stars as a wave of pleasure washes overtakes you and you feel pure ecstasy. Your cunt contracts around his cock, sending Bucky over the edge. His cock pulsating and shoot loads of cum inside you, filling you once more.

“Fuck!” He moans one last time.

He collapses on top of you. Your hands catching your bodies as you lay pressed against his desk once again. Bucky pulls himself out of you, leaking with cum. You whimper at the sudden loss of fullness.

Your legs felt weak and standing on your own seemed like an impossible task. You are trying to catch your breath. The high cooling off and you regain the ability to talk.

You push yourself up, feeling the cum run onto your inner thigh. Bucky grabs a handful of tissues, wiping away the cum. He helps you sit down on his chair. Your breathing finally slows and the adrenaline wears off. You begin to feel the aftermath of every mark and muscle. You groan as you try to move from the seat.

Bucky walks over to you handing you a bottle of water and switches places with you, so you are now on his lap.

“I told you would be a little sore,” He chuckles, placing a kiss on your temple.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #professor!bucky #sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut #bucky barnes x female oc #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes imagine

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deeseelovez · 2 years

Text

Roommates

Not my GIF

can be read by any body size or skin color.

Sorry for any typos.

parining: switch!roommate!james potter x switch!reader

warnings: pron. literal porn. um, they are both kind of pervs, finger sucking, sub and dom dynamics, orgasm denial, begging, degradation kink, praise kink, masturbation, blowjob, fem oral, use of a vibrator, they are both massive switches, pet names, (slut, princess, baby boy, love.)

It feels rushed at the end but I hope you guys like it.

Y/n had a terrible day. It started with an uneventful tinder hookup that left her unsatisfied, then someone spilled coffee down her favorite shirt that just so happened to be white, and she got called into work on the first day off she had in a month. Just everything that could go wrong did.

While on her break, she told James, her roommate and childhood friend, to just order something for dinner. She didn’t want to cook even though it was her day to do so. James understood and said he would order-in Chinese food.

On her walk home from dinner it started to pour freezing rain. She ran the rest of the way to James and her shared loft

James stuck a few fingers in the water making sure it was hot just like Y/n liked it.

He had already lit her favorite candles for her and put the bubbles in the water and now he was just waiting for Y/n.

“James!” Y/n calls slamming down her purse and keys on the entrance way table.

“In the bathroom!” He calls out. Y/n started to walk cautiously to the bathroom. James leaned against the wall next to the door which he opened to show Y/n the bath.

“Jamie,” Y/n could feel her heart melt, “You didn’t have to do this.” Y/n engulfs him into a tight brace.

“It’s nothing, really. You had a bad day and I wanted to make it better.” He smiles, “I just put in the food order so it will be awhile.”

“Thank you,” Y/n kisses his cheek, “Thank you so much.” And goes into the bathroom.

James' face turned a bright pink at the small kiss and he went back into the living room while y/n got ready for her bath.

In got into the steaming water with a sight, letting the bubbles lay comfortably on top of her.

As she laid in there for a few minutes, she felt lonely after her long day. She wanted to be around James' sunny personality and she wouldn’t mind staring at him for a few more minutes.

“James!” Y/n called James into the bathroom.

“Yes?” He asks, confused as he stands outside the bathroom door.

“Can you come in a minute?” James, surprised, covered his eyes with his hand and walked into the bathroom.

“Did you need something?” He asks

“Just your company, if that’s okay?” She asks, and James nods.

“But- you’re naked?”

“You’ve seen me naked before James.”

“We were just kids!”

“Jamie, please?” Y/n whines at him and he sighs, sitting down on the toilet.

“Of course, princess.” Whenever James called her that it sent tingles straight down her stomach. She looks up at him again, his face still covered with his hand.

“Can you look at me, please?” She asks innocently, she knew what she was doing and she was going to get what she wanted one way or another.

“Y/n,” He sighs and Y/n grabs his wrist and pulls his hand off his face.

“There, now I can see your pretty face.” She smiles at him and leans back into the bath. Her tits were floating perfectly on top of the water, most of the bubbles had disappeared by now and James tried to look anyway but her nipples.

Nipples he had imagined sucking countless times, he knew it was young imagining his best friend and roommate sexually. He felt so guilty for it, but whenever she would run around in those see-through silky pajama tops or would wear those short-shorts that showed off her ass cheeks he would practically run to his room to jerk off.

Little did James know that Y/n had felt the same way, he would get out of the shower with just a towel wrapped around his waist or come home from the gym covered in sweat, and she would have to deal with her own problems as well.

As James looked down at Y/n, she had a teasing smile on her face.

“What’s wrong, James?” James shook his head. His bright eyes go down to her nipples but immediately look back into her eyes and Y/n smiles.

“You can look at them, James. It’s okay.” Y/n says, reaching for his hand, “You can even touch them if you really want.”

“Really?” He asks, and Y/n nods. Placing his hands on top of her breasts and James nearly moaned at the feeling of them. They were perfect, they were exactly as he thought they would feel.

His pants got immediately tighter as Y/n took one of his hands and lifted his thumb to her mouth. She started to suck it and moan at the feeling of his fingers in her mouth.

“Y/n,” James moaned at the feeling, thrusting his hips.

“Yes?” That’s when the doorbell rang, loudly through the house and James immediately got up to see who it was.

Leaving Y/n needy in the bathtub, she had gotten out of the bathtub, drained the water and blew out the candles before walking into the living room.

“James?” She quickly felt the towel fall to the ground and fingers tracing the bend of her shoulder.

“You really think I didn’t know what you were doing in there, princess?” James whispers to her, the feeling of his cock on her bare ass and she almost whines at the feeling, “You're such a tease, you know that?”

“But I wasn’t-”

“No.” He walked in front of her, “If you’re going to act like a slut, then that’s how I’m going to treat you. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” She nods her head, and James grabs her hands and walks into her room, he pulls out her desk chair and tells her to sit.

“Now,” James smiles, “You’re going to play with your pretty pussy and you will only be allowed to cum after you beg for it? Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Y/n answers again.

“Spread your legs for me,” Y/n spread her legs out, showing off the cunt in between her legs.

“Good girl,” He tells her, “Go on, Y/n/n. You know what to do.” Y/n huffed almost as she put her own thumb to her clit and she started to circle it with her thumb. A few seconds after doing this, she let out a loud moan, and she went faster along her clit.

She put her fingers in herself and started to pump them in and out, a few more minutes of this and she was almost there, “James, Please. Please, let me cum. Please?” Y/n asks looking up, her eyes wide and her chest heaving.

“No,” He says with a slight chuckle, and Y/n start to slow her movements. James’ eyes are glued to the glimmering cunt, he wanted nothing more than to taste her, to put his fingers inside of her, but he wanted to torture just a little while longer.

Like she was going to do to him if they hadn’t been interrupted. Y/n whined as she looked into his eyes.

“That’s it.” James gets up, “I’m going to taste your pussy, now.” He says with a slightly demanding tone.

Y/n pulls her hands off herself and looks him dead in the eyes and moves her hands to his belt.

“What are you doing?” She didn’t answer him and took the belt off him and unbutton his jeans and pulls them down along with his boxers.

“It’s not fair that you get to have clothes and I don’t.” She tells them, one of her hands was going down his stomach, and her tongue was just barely poking out of her mouth as she lightly touched his cock with it.

“Are you sure you still want to taste my pussy when I could be taking your cock?” She asks, staring up at him again, his head was leaning back, his curls going everywhere.

He looked back down at her, he could see the wet spot she had made sitting there.

“Yes,” He says.

“Get on your knees then,” Y/n tells him and he drops to his knees. Y/n crossed her legs in front of him and he whimpered putting his chin on her knee.

“Y/n,” He almost whined out.

“Beg for it, James.” She smirks at him, “Beg for it and then I might let you have a taste.” She tells him and James whines.

“Can I have taste, please? Of your pretty cunt? I’ve been dreaming of it, I’ve been jerking myself to the thought of how good it would taste since I was a teenager, Y/n. Please, just one taste.” He asks, his hands on her knees, moving up and down her shaved legs.

Y/n looks down at him and opens her legs and he immediately dives in. He sucks on her fluffy clit and licks up all the juices that were leaking from her.

“You taste divine.” He moans to her pressing another long suck to her clit.

“You’re doing good, Jamie. I’m almost there.” She whines, she looks down at him, “May I cum?” She asks, looking down at him. James had a smirk on his face.

“I thought you were in charge, Princess?” He says, slipping two fingers inside of her. Y/n rolled her eyes but she screamed again when he pressed kisses to her clit and his fingers moved in and out of her quickly.

“Yes, you can cum.” James chuckles as Y/n finally came undone, James slurped her up.

“You’re such a good slut for me, Y/n.” He tells her, “But we’re not done yet.” Y/n looks up at him as he stands back up. His cock was hard as ever.

Y/n got up from the desk chair and pushed James on to it, “Don’t worry, James. You took care of me and now, I’ll take care of you.”

“Good,” He says but first, Y/n reached in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. The first kiss the pair had ever shared, it seemed insignificant compared to where his lips were just a few seconds ago.

The soft kiss quickly turned to him grabbing her hips and pulling her on top of him. One hand went to the back of her neck and the other one gripped her ass.

Both of her hands went to his cock as they kissed, she teasingly rubbed his pulsating tip with her thumb and pointer finger.

He moaned inside of her mouth, bucking his hips up wanting more. Needing more.

“What do you want, James? Come on, use your words?” Y/n says, removing her lips from his. She licked her hand and started to move down his shaft.

James tried to keep what little control he had left, “Want your mouth,” He moaned, “Please?”

“Will since you asked so nicely.” She got off his lap and went on her knees in front of him.

Their eyes still together as she started to kitten lick the tip, tasting the salty pre-cum that was oozing out of him.

\“Fuck,” James cursed out but Y/n removed her mouth from the tip and kissed up and down his shaft, slowly.

Then an idea popped into her head, “James?” He calls out, “Are you willing to try something?” Y/n asks looking up at him.

“As long as you keep touching me.” He whispers out.

“I was hoping you’d say something like that!” She giggles as she gets up from her spot and goes to her bedside drawer and pulls out a pink vibrator.

“I-is that a vibrator?” He asks, innocently. His eyes staring up in wonderment.

“Yes, baby boy. I use it on myself last night, thinking of you. Thinking of that cock inside of me. Can I use it on you?”

“Use it on? How would you-”

“Do you trust me?” She asks and he nods.

“Then relax,” Y/n kisses his lips, “And enjoy the show.” She winks, sinking down to her knees again, she turns on the vibrator on the lowest setting and she placed it lightly on her balls.

As she moves it slowly across them, he moans louder then before and Y/n starts to suck his cock.

His hips moving and his cock hitting the back of her throat. She kept moving the vibrator and turned it up another level.

“I’m close! Fuck, Mo-. Y/n, I’m close.” James says, and Y/n was curious of what he was about to call her but she would ask him later.

She turned it up to another setting and she hollowed out her cheeks and he came inside of her mouth.

“Oh my god,” James shudders, Y/n threw the vibrator on the desk and she looked up at him, the warm cum inside of her mouth and she made him watch as she swallowed every drop of it.

“You filthy girl. You like my cum in your mouth?” Y/n smiled at him and got back on his lap and pressed another kiss to his lips, “I said, to you like my cum in your mouth.”

“Yes, I love it.” Y/n says, walking towards the door but James grabbed her arm.

“We’re not done yet, Princess.”

“Good.” She says James stood up and the pair started to kiss again. Y/n’s hands go into his wild curls and his hands move to her ass as they walk over to the bed.

James laid above Y/n as they kissed, James soon went down to kissing her neck.

“You know, how beautiful you are?” He asks, as he kisses her chest, “How long I’ve imagined sucking on your tits.” He says, looking up at her and she smiles.

“Do it,” Y/n says and James went down and sucked on them, hard. He could have come just from this. Y/n moaned from the sensation.

“James,” She said, “Fuck me, please.” She was still sensitiveness form her first orgasm so she wouldn’t last long if he fucked her.

“Don’t need to ask me twice.” James says, pressing one final kiss to her lips and moving his cock towards her entrance.

“Tell me, if I need to slow down.” He says, slowly thrusting his cock inside of you, inch by inch, he went in, ‘There we go, all the way in. You’re so good at taking my cock, love.” He praises as he starts to thrust inside of her.

“Thank you,” She says, as she bites her lip. James quickly found a rhythm, he reached down and sucked hickies into your neck as he kept going in and out.

“Fuck, James.” Y/n says, one of his hands was on her clit and his cock was going deep inside of her.

“Right there,” She screamed out when the head of his dick touched the sensitive area inside of her, “Right there, please. Harder?”

James quickly did as she requested, “Fuck, Y/n/. Your cunt is so tight for me. I wish I could be inside you all day.”

Y/n let out a small moan in agreement as she made claw marks on his back, “James, I’m close.” She says.

“That’s it, love. Cum for me.” He says, going down to suck more on her chest and his thumb quicker on her clit.

“Yes, yes.” That’s when she tightened around him and his thick white ropes of cum went inside of her.

“Fuck me,” Y/n whines at the feeling, suddenly his warmth was gone. Y/n opened her eyes and he was smiling down at her.

“Thank you,” He says,laying down next to her and she laughs.

“For what?”

“For this,” James leans in and kisses her, “I meant every word I said.”

“So did I,” James grabs the blanket at their feet and pulled it up towards him, “Hold on, let me get a washcloth to clean up.”

“And some food please, I’m starving.”

#james potter #marauders #marauders era #fem reader #james potter x reader #james potter smut #james potter x y/n

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mrsharrington83 · 2 years

Text

Never Ending Story

Summary; Y/N and Steve are in the back of the car beat up and bruised when Dustin, Y/N's half brother finally gets the code. (There is a whole lot more to it than that. I just really suck at summaries :D also, sorry for any typos)

"Jesus Steve." The sight of your badly beaten boyfriend made your heart hurt, true. You weren't looking much better. The evident worry on Steve's face as he gently rubbed his thumb against your bruising cheek.

"I can't believe they did this to you." He cradled you in his arms. Where you felt the safest,

"I really thought we were toast back there." You sighed, nestling your face into the crook of Steve's neck.

"Me too."

You closed your eyes, forgetting everything around you before Dustin spoke up.

"Um. Guys..."

Bringing you back to your senses, you stepped away from Steve as you both followed Dustin's gaze to the Starcourt mall.

"Shit!" Dustin ran back to his radio waiting no time, "Griswold family, this is Scoops Troop! Do you copy? Over!"

You all sat on the grass waiting. Hoping for an answer, wishing your friends were okay.

"Griswold family, I repeat, this is Scoops Troop, do you-"

A loud shriek took over the radio as you all looked at each other.

"Fuck!" Robin rubbed her face as Dustin doesn’t give in. Steve kissed the corner of your forehead before standing up, sprinting down the hillside,

"Where are you going?!" Erica bellowed after Steve,

"To get them the hell out of there! Stay here. Contact the others."

You're next to get onto your feet, running after Steve, but not before your younger brother called after you.

"Wait! Y/N! Stay in touch" he smiles a weak smile as he tossed you a radio, "don't die, please. I love you."

"I love you too, Dusty. See you soon hopefully." You gripped hold of the small radio as you carried on running. You weren't the fastest, but your legs didn't fail you as you caught up with Steve,

"Y/N. No." he was serious, he’d almost lost you once today in the interrogations.

"No time to argue, Steve. Let's go." He rubbed his bruised face and sighed, nodding. Of course you were going to go with him. He couldn’t stop you.

The run to the car was tiring, but you both didn’t stop. Your friends were in danger and having done things like this several times before, you knew it was a matter of life and death. Scrambling into the car, Steve started it up in silence as you caught your breath.

“Y/N.” Steve’s voice was low, laced with worry and tiredness. You were both running off adrenaline now. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You wiped your nose that had started bleeding again, just hoping it wasn’t broken after the Russians did a number on you both.

“I swear.” Steve spoke up, “If we get out of this alive, Henderson. We ae going to have a very quiet date night.”

You chuckled lightly as Starcourt got more visible. “Agreed.” Your eyes didn’t leave Steve as he carried on driving, his knuckles white with the grip he had on the steering wheel.

“Fuck. Make sure your belt is on.” You looked in front of you, Nancy was firing a gun at another car, realising what Steve was about to do as he put his foot down.

“Oh my god!” you braced for impact as you closed your eyes, your heart hammering in your chest. It was quick, but definitely not painless as your whole body collided with your belt, pain rapidly coursing through your chest as your head flung forward, your hair covering your face, your brain feeling like it was rattling around in your skull making you dizzy. Steve turned to look at you, his own hair bouncing from impact,

“Are you okay?” you were both alive and that’s all that mattered.

“Ask me tomorrow?” you undone your belt as your hands shook, both of you pulling yourself up to see the Mind Flayer climbing over the roof.

“GET IN!” Nancy screamed, you didn’t need to be told twice as you pushed yourself out of the car, Steve making sure you got into the back of the car first, following close behind, your legs feeling like jelly as he slammed the door shut, pulling you into his arms. He gripped hold of you, keeping you close to his chest. You could feel his heart thumping as hard as your own.

“If only that thing could slow down.” You muttered to yourself as Steve gave you a firm squeeze, his eyes not leaving the monster.

“Dusty-bun, you copy?” you looked at the radio you had managed to keep hold of. How? you had no idea.

“I copy, Suzi-poo. I hear you much better now, thanks.”

You shuffled away from Steve and looked at him in shock, “Suzie.”

“Okay, so, listen. Do you know Planck’s constant?” Dustin spoke up, your eyes still glued to the small radio in your lap, you looked at Steve puzzled, as your brother and his girlfriend continued their conversation,

“She’s real?” Steve perked up a little, a proud smile on his face. Even at a time like this. He really was the best babysitter and he loved those kids, even your dorky little brother.

Dustin continued as you looked to the radio.

“I promise I will make it up to you as soon as possible.”

“You can make it up to me now.”

Suzie sounded sweet, but this wasn’t the time,

“What?”

“I want to hear it.” You could hear the smirk in her voice.

There was a pause before Dustin continued,

“Suzie, this is urgent.”

Your brother was trying, you knew he was,

“Yes, you’re saving the world. I heard you the first time.”

The radio was static,

“So this is Suzie, signing off.”

You bit your lip,

“Wait, wait. Wait. Okay.”

You were confused, you were all confused as to what just happened and what was going to happen, this car wouldn’t drive forever and you were seriously running out of time.

Turn around, look at what you see

Steve was baffled as blood slightly dripped from the side of his head, the Mind Flayer catching up to the car.

In her face, the mirror of your dreams.

“Right that’s it. We’re going to die.” Steve spoke up, almost sarcastically.

Make believe I’m everywhere, hidden in the lines

You laughed as everyone looked at you, your brother still singing on air with his girlfriend.

Written on the pages is the answer to a never ending story.

“Is he actually serious right now?” Steve was now looking at the radio, still as puzzled as ever as you gently kicked his shoe.

“Hey. You are his babysitter. You sure this wasn’t one of you doings?”

Steve smiled and shook his head, it wasn’t the time for making silly jokes, but you always could make him feel better, even in grave moments like this.

“Reach the stars, fly a fantasy.” Steve looked at you now, almost saying what the fuck are you doing with just his facial features,

“Come on Steve.” You smiled, even though you were scared, even though there was a possibility of you not seeing another day, “we might die, sing with me.”

He huffed and shook his head, his hair dishevelled, “What do you do to me, Y/N.” He took your hands in his, lightly rubbing his thumbs over the back of your hands, your boyfriend finally joining in with you.

Dream a dream, and what you see will be. Rhymes that keep their secrets will unfold behind the clouds

“Not you two as well. Jesus Christ. Give me strength.” Will put his head in his hands as Lucas seemed somewhat amused. Nancy and Johnathan in the front of the car laughing.

And there upon a rainbow is the answer to a never ending story. Story.

Suddenly the singing stopped as Suzie gave Dustin the code. A sigh of relief from everyone in the car

“You just saved the world.” Dustin also sounded relieved and somewhat happy, given the circumstances.

“You must really love me, joining in with me and that.” You looked to Steve who was smiling, laughing under his breath,

“Have you only just figured that out? I adore you, Y/N.” You leaped into his arms and kissed over his face,

“Whoa, wait. It’s turning around?” the Mind Flayer had changed directions,

“Maybe we wore it out?” Lucas said unconvinced,

“I doubt it.” Johnathan looked into the mirror. “Hold on.”

You fell into Steve’s lap as the car turned harshly, Steve hardly holding on himself as his side hit the door of the car, “More bruises.”

“I’ll nurse you back to health.” Steve smirked at you as Johnathan gained control of the car once more,

“Not the place lovebirds.” Nancy shook her head smiling.

Three months later

"Can you believe it?! Mum away for months on business. We have the whole house to ourselves" Dustin burst into the living room, "Can't believe she trusts you to look after me. I am a handful."

"Don't we know it." Steve butted in, bringing in a bowl of popcorn, "So. What movie are we all watching?"

Your mum had let Steve move in which was insane, your mum always did have a soft spot for him, she'd always tell you Steve was the one for you. She knew he'd take care of the both of you whilst she was away. She knew you'd all take care of each other and with you and Steve both working for Family Video, she knew you could be trusted. You'd grown into a fine young woman.

"I'm not sure." Dustin grabbed a handful of popcorn before jumping over you to sit on the sofa.

"I know the perfect movie." Steve grinned as you watched him get up, "How about... The NeverEnding Story?"

Dustin slammed his head into the back on the sofa huffing, "can you two fucking stop with that now?!"

"Turn around, look at what you see. in her face, the mirror of your dreams." you stood up and spun around with your arms out, as Steve joined in, "make believe I'm everywhere. I'm hidden in the lines. written on the pages, is the answer to a never ending story."

"Right, that's it. I'm going out." Dustin grabbed his cap and coat before pulling his shoes on.

"Hey, Dusty." you stopped singing and watched him as he opened the door, "Love you."

"yeah, yeah. Love you too." he closed the door behind him as you looked to Steve.

"so." he started, "we have the house to ourselves now, you wanna?" he looked to the stairs as you grinned and sprinted off up the stairs with him following after you.

#stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x original character #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steveharrington/reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steveharringtonxreader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst

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sokka-with-his-hair-down · 4 years

Text

“I might be in love with you.”

“...What?”

“I mean-”

But what did he mean? He meant absolutely nothing other than what he had just said. Nice one, Sokka. Very gentle. Very intimate. Five star flirting.

“Sorry,” Zuko began, looking deeply confused (though frazzled might’ve been a better word). “Did you just say that you’re in love with me?”

Sokka felt his stomach clench. This conversation didn’t seem to be going even remotely uphill, but he already had stepped one foot in his grave, so why not take a swan dive the rest of the way?

“No, I said I think I might be in love with you.”

Zuko, slack jawed, stared at him. He didn’t seem... upset. And he also didn’t seem grossed out (thank the spirits), so at least some of their relationship had the potential to be salvaged after this encounter.

“I...” Zuko seemed to trace the lines of Sokka’s face with his eyes, searching for the answer to a question he hadn’t yet asked. “What... what do you mean?”

Well how was Sokka supposed to answer that? That could mean a million things and have a million answers, and most of them were probably wrong.

So, Sokka did the one thing he knew how to do in situations like these: He was painfully, embarrassingly honest.

“Well,” he began, his hands splayed open in front of him as he searched for the words, “it’s like, I didn’t even know at first. Which, y’know. These things happen over time. Like-like when you laugh and your eyes crinkle, I saw that and thought wow, that’s kind of cute. But like, not in a patronizing childish way! Like in a wait-I-have-a-crush-on-the-Fire-Lord kind of way.”

As Zuko stared dumbly on, Sokka continued, against his better judgement.

“And when you talk politics and sound all smart I just sort of think wow, Zuko’s like, a genius. And that’s hot. Like, I think smart people are hot, okay?” Stop talking. You’re embarrassing yourself. You’re embarrassing Zuko. Shut- “And then you do dumb things like forget to look where you’re walking or trip over your robes and-and it’s kind of charming! And I’m like oh no, I might be in love with Zuko. Not that that’s a bad thing! Well, maybe it is for you, I don’t know, but like, you’re not a bad person to be in love with, I mean. Because I think you’re really cool! Obviously. Which is why I might be in love with you.”

Sokka thought for a moment.

“Actually, now that I’m saying all this out loud, I’m pretty sure I’m definitely in love with you. Which, like, woah, crazy revelation to have while I’m confessing that I’m in love with you, but y’know. Life is like that sometimes. And, well-”

He stopped to take a breath,

“This-this totally doesn’t have to change anything, but I’ve wanted to tell you for the better part of the year because I’ve sort of felt like this for a long time. And I also kind of feel bad for telling you all of this now because you’re super busy and have a lot to think about, and if you never wanna see me again, I’ll be fine. Well, I’ll probably be not fine for a while because I’m in love with you, but if that’s how it’s gotta be, then so be it! So. Yeah.”

Zuko stood still, blinking, face completely expressionless save it be the slight dazed look in his eye.

Sokka suddenly realized how quiet it was when he wasn’t talking, and how awkward that silence was making all of this, so he nodded, turned, and began to walk away. (Because what else was be supposed to do?)

“Sokka.”

Sokka spun around quickly.

Zuko looked down, brow furrowed. “That...”

Sokka’s breath caught as he awaited Zuko’s words.

“That... um...” Zuko looked up pleadingly. “I’m kind of freaking out here.”

Well, that wasn’t good. That was the opposite of good.

“I’m—” Sokka stepped forward, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—shit—I’m sorry.” Why would you tell him all of that?! Can you not keep a single secret?

Zuko stumbled forward a little bit, toward Sokka, whose hands were there to steady him and keep him upright before he even seemed to realized he was falling over.

Sokka’s heart was racing. Had he really just freaked Zuko out so much that he was gonna faint? Was that even a thing? Was Zuko about to pass out because Sokka had just told him he’d been in love with him for who knows how long?

“Zuko, I’m sorry.”

“Stop, I’m—” Zuko seemed to regain his footing a bit, “I’m okay. I’m...”

“Well clearly not, since you look like you’re about to pass out,” Sokka sassed, distressed and unsure what to do with himself other than keep his hands braced on Zuko’s shoulders.

“That’s—it’s fine. It’s—you didn’t-”

“I did,” Sokka groaned. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, like, freak you out. Or make you almost pass out. If I had known that telling you would do that-”

“Sokka, shut up, that’s-” Zuko said, voice regaining some stability, “that’s not why I... that’s not why that happened.”

Sokka was beginning to wonder if almost fainting had messed with Zuko’s head. “What?”

“I said that’s not why I almost—y’know—”

“What—? Then why—?” Sokka couldn’t seem to find the words to express then why in Tui’s name did you nearly flop onto the floor?

“I just... I just realized something.”

Sokka, embarrassed and frantic, cocked his head and shook it in confusion, defeated. “What?”

Zuko opened and closed his mouth a few times, looking like a rabbit-fish, before he managed to get the words out. “I just realized I might... be... stupidly in love with you too.”

Sokka’s eyes shot wide open. “You—”

And that was all Sokka could manage before he felt lightheaded and it was Zuko’s grip saving him from colliding with the floor.

(Apologies for any typos! Please let me know what you think<3)

#sorry I had this idea and really wanted to write rambly Sokka #atla #avatar the last airbender #zuko #sokka #zukka #l’oreal sokka writes #my writing #avatar

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random-imaginess · 3 years

Note

Loved the story you just did with Shayne Topp!

I was wondering if you could do another Shayne one with the prompt 19. “Let me take care of you.” / “I don’t care if you don’t want my help, you’ll get it anyway.”

I'm so sorry this took so long to post!! I hope you come back and are able to see this!

Trigger Warning: Mentions of blood. Probably a lot of typos, cause who has time for proofreading...?

It wasn't the first time Shayne made last minute plans to have company over when the place wasn't presentable. For the most part, you both kept everything clean and tidy, but he always managed to set up plans when the sink was full of dishes and the laundry wasn't done. And when you didn't usually mind the last minute plans, you were overwhelmed with everything you had to do that day. So you were a little more than irritated that Shayne had forgotten that today was not a good day for company. You had already exchanged words, he knew you were upset, and now you just had to get shit done before the company arrived.

After you got a load of clothes in the washer, you started in the dishes while Shayne vacuumed. You grabbed the cups from the dishwasher and put them in the cabinet. As you went to place another one, you didn't quite let go of it before pulling your hand away, causing it to come crashing down, shards of glass shattering everywhere on the ground. "Dammit!" You cursed, looking down to see where you could step that was safe since you didn't have any shoes on.

Shayne turned off the vacuum and looked to see what the commotion was. "Are you okay?" You looked up at him and nodded. "Yes, I'm fine," you replied curtly. You tried to take a couple steps but stopped abruptly when your foot landed on a piece of glass. You yelped in pain and hobbled to a spot where you could sit down. "Shit shit shit!" You held your foot to look at the damage, blood slowly trickling from where the piece of glass was stuck. Shayne came over to you and placed his hand on your shoulder as he examined the situation. "Hold on..." he left your side to grab a wet cloth to help clean the blood off so he could see exactly what you were dealing with. You took it from his hand and delicately wiped your foot clean, flinching and letting out a pained gasp when you accidentally touched the piece of glass that was stuck in your skin. "Shit, ugh!" you cried out in frustration. "Let me help you," Shayne quickly responded, not liking that you were in pain. "I don't want your help, it's fine. It just fucking hurts." Now Shayne was getting irritated. "I don't care if you don't want my help, you'll get it anyway," he took the cloth back and knelt down in front of you, your eyes not leaving each other. "Let me take care of you." The stubborn side of you wanted to stay mad, but there was no use when your boyfriend was this wonderful. His tone was softer now and you just let out a quiet sigh, handing over the cloth and letting him do what he needed to.

You tried to brace yourself as best as you could while he cleaned around the cut, making sure he wasn't putting too much pressure on it. He disappeared once more and returned with some tweezers. "This will probably hurt," he warned before going in. You bit your bottom lip and gripped on to his shoulder as he concentrated on the piece of glass.

You inhaled sharply as he got a grip on it, pulling the piece straight out. "Got it," he held it up to show you for a brief moment and cleaned the area again to make sure there wasn't more that he missed. "Thank you," your tone was quiet, telling yourself to swallow your pride and let go of the pettiness you were feeling. It wasn't like he did anything to purposefully make you upset. And he was there helping you, not leaving you to do everything on your own. He gave a smile and a light nod. "Of course." "I'm sorry I've been horrible today, I let myself get too overwhelmed. But you didn't deserve have it taken out on you." You let your hands hang loosely around his neck. "I forgive you," he smiled playfully, not taking the attitude to heart. "All is forgotten." He gave you a kiss on the lips before helping you stand up. "Why don't you clean that cut and I'll clean this mess up so you don't hurt yourself again" You nodded and nestled into him for a hug before limping off to the bathroom. You could really get too lost in your head sometimes, but Shayne was always understanding. You never wanted to take advantage of that, though. You always apologized when you knew you were in the wrong, and he always did the same if he was. That was one of the things you really appreciated about your relationship. The openness of it and lack of judgement. You were lucky to have him and you didn't take that for granted.

#I don't know what it is about smosh imagines that makes me even more shit at writing #this is a corny mess #shayne topp imagines #shayne topp x reader #smosh imagines #smosh fanfic

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hanniiesuckle17 · 3 years

Text

Chapter 7: The Library

A/n: so this chapter has been long-awaited by some and i hope you guys enjoy it! the series will really start moving after this so i would love to hear what you guys think of the chapter! Sorry about any typos- i didn't have time to edit this with all my schoolwork this week! Tag List is Open <3

Tag List: @woodiegochile @mini-meanhoe @leggomylino @hanstagrams @desertofdessert @hoes4hoseok @jeonqqin @geminirules @mrsunshine999 @jisungsjheekies @hannie-squirrel00 @cotccotc @kodzu-ken @konenichi @yangs-jeongin @binniebutter @orangegyu @little-precious-baby @raethethey @sofie296 @hongjoong-a-holic

RBTL Tag List: @bluejayboys @wonderlandless @introverted-stay24 @sunfics @deputyjuyeon @studioreader

Warnings: Cursing

WC: 2.9k

Summary: True love has never come easy; life makes sure of that. From unrequited love to missed timing, does anyone have any hope at finding success- let alone pass History at the same time? All these questions leave young people wondering….will they still love me in the morning?

❖

Third POV

Y/n’s eyes grew tired as words about some minuscule event in history floated off the page of her textbook. She closed her eyes, stretching her neck-the bones cracking softly as her stiff neck rolled back. The odd silence drew her attention. Curious, she took the headphones from her ears and listened. All she could hear was the sound of raindrops falling against the large windows of the library.

It became quickly clear to the girl that she was alone and the only light in the room was coming from her little desk. “Hello?” She called out. Her voice echoed out from the second floor and filling the open building. When she heard no response, she shrugged and began pacing up her things to head home.

Though there was no response to the girl’s call there was in fact one lone soul left in the university’s library. One floor directly below Y/n sat a tall and slender boy, books piled high on his desk. Changmin twirled a pen between his fingers before checking his phone. His eyes widened seeing the time. Quickly he stuffed his journals into his bag, leaving his bag only half zipped. Red tuffs of fake hair stuck out as his doll was pushed towards the top of his bag.

The boy did a backtrack wondering if he should put his books away but decided against it knowing if he kept Chanhee and his friends waiting much longer then he might not live to see the midterm. Instead, he turned around and headed for the door- backpack on his shoulder and adjusting the glasses that were falling down his nose.

It seemed fate was entirely focused on these two tonight. Only the storm clouds had a view of the girl walking down the stairs just in time to meet the boy as he stepped onto the main floor. The two shared a brief look- shocked to see another person at this hour, but continued their way to the front doors wordlessly.

Just the sight of the girl had Changmin’s hands starting a nervous sweat. He tried to focus on anything but how pretty he thought she looked with the dim light from the streetlamps outside casting streams of light over her face. As the two students grew closer to the door the sound of the storm outside grew louder. It was also easier for them to see as they neared the larger windows.

Y/n reached out for the door. Surprisingly, she found resistance as she pushed. Again the girl tried, sending an awkward smile to the boy behind her. After pushing multiple times she gave up with a sigh. “I- uh....I think it’s locked.”

“Locked?”

Changmin stepped forward and tried his hand at the closed entranced. He pushed and pulled until retreating, brows furrowed. “What you didn’t believe me?” The girl asked with a breathy laugh. Changmin’s eyes widened as he turned to face her.

“What- no! No, not all! I- I- I just...”

“I was just joking, don’t worry.” A timid smile quirked up the corner of the boy's lips. He watched as she shed her bag- placing it against the nearest row of shelves. “Should we try together?” His head moved faster than his mind could process Y/n’s words. He shed his backpack next to hers and the two turned towards the sealed doors.

In his mind, he knew that even with both of their strengths pushing, the industrial locks on the university doors would not break. “I’m Y/n, by the way.” Instead of looking at the boy, she readied herself at the door, palms pressed against the metal bar.

“Oh- I’m..uh...C-Changmin...”

“Well C-Changmin, push on three?” He nodded, finding Y/n’s smile, though small, even more enchanting up close. “One, two, three!”

The two of them pushed with all their might but to no avail. Y/n looked defeated as she pulled her phone out of her back pocket. Her delicate fingers pushed the button but the screen refused to light up.

Changmin had a similar idea. He reached for his own phone. Both of them smiled as it lit up showing the time and 11% battery left. The grin quickly fell as he realized there was absolutely no signal. Using his long limbs to his advantage he reached up searching one measly bar.

Y/n ran a hand through her hair. This was the absolute perfect way to end her already stressful and torturous day. She reached for the lamp on a nearby desk but a huge roll of thunder resonated through the building and it suddenly became even darker.

“Well, this is the beginning of a horror movie if I’ve seen one.” Changmin joked, kicking the door with a grin. His smile fell as he turned to see the fearful look on Y/n’s face.

“Dude- why the fuck would you say that!”

“I don’t know! I’m sorry!” He mentally hit himself over and over. Why did he say that? There was no need to break the silence. The silence was his safety net right now. If he was silent there was absolutely no way he could appear like some weird Freakazoid to her. He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, casting brief glances over at the pretty girl he had liked for so long.

The two gradually gravitated towards each other. There was really nowhere else to go. Y/n enjoyed the sound of the storm outside, letting it calm her ever-growing nerves. Changmin resisted the urge to engage in embarrassing small talk.

A bright crash of lightning brightened up the room in sheets just as Y/n’s eye fell on the two backpacks several feet away. Her scream echoed off the ceiling as she caught a glimpse of the Chucky doll peeking its head out of the boy’s bag. Instinctively, she grabbed onto the closest thing- which happened to be Changmin’s hoodie.

Heat flooded every inch of his face and he wasn’t quite sure where to put his hands so he settled for keeping them up in the air. Inside his heart was beating faster than he ever thought possible. It was like all of his senses were heightened the moment she touched him.

“What the hell is that?”

“Oh...umm...he’s my Chucky.”

“Your what?” She pulled away from him and Changmin instantly missed her touch. The girl all but laughed seeing the blush on his cheeks and his arms still raised in the air almost in surrender.

“My Chucky. You know- like from the movie...”

“Yes, I’ve seen the fucking movie!”

Nervously he adjusted his sweater before shuffling over and gently tucking his doll safely pack in his bag- out of sight from the still shaken girl. “Why are you carrying that around anyway?”

The scare had seemed to lessen the tension between both of them; though Changmin was still very aware of every word and action towards Y/n. “I was headed to a thriller marathon at my friend’s apartment after I finished some studying.” She nodded but in her mind, she wondered how if he had been studying for as long as she had, he did not have tears running down his face and a massive migraine. “I guess I just lost track of the time.”

Y/n couldn’t help but smile a the boy’s lopsided grin. She found it endearing how one side was always high than the other. The more he smiled at her the more she wanted to take a picture of his little quirk.

Another weighted silence fell between them. Against his better judgment, Changmin began to speak. “I don’t mean to pry...but what were you doing here so late?” For a moment Y/n had forgotten all about her troubles that had been following her for the past month and a half. A visible heaviness pressed down her shoulders.

Her back pressed against the bookshelf and she let herself slide down to the floor. “I gave up on finding a tutor last week. I was hoping some miracle would happen if I read that stupid book long enough.”

At that moment she wasn’t just the girl he had been pining after since he was in braces. Changmin saw the exhaustion. He saw the complete lack of hope. He moved his backpack- which she had sat down next to and took its place.

“What book?” He didn’t need to ask but saved her the embarrassment of telling her that he had been in the room for her lecture with Professor Jeong. Wordlessly she pulled out a book, her hand dipping in the air from the significant weight. “Ah,”

“Good ‘ah’ or bad ‘ah’?”

“I’m not sure which the situation calls for?” He said pushing up his glasses with a little smile.

Changmin’s grin grew a little wider as he heard her laugh. Even sitting in the dark, her smile seemed to fill the room with a warm glow. “At this point, I think I’m just useless.” She pressed her forehead against the cool cover of the book.

She wondered why she found herself so comfortable with this stranger. It felt easier to talk with this boy she had known for twenty minutes than to talk with her closest friends- even her parents. A small shock of something she could only describe as electricity, raced up her arm as the boy’s hand brushed hers. He reached for the book, gently taking it from her hands and opening it to the tabbed page.

“You aren’t useless, Y/n,” His words gave her comfort, wrapping around her like a warm blanket fresh from the dryer. Changmin chuckled, turning the page. “However, one might find it useful to highlight only the useful information and not the entire page.”

He found it cute looking down at Y/n’s textbook. Most of the passages were marked with yellow highlighter- easy to see even in the growing darkness. Some lines were underlined in red and there were circled statements with question marks all over the page. It was evident that she was in fact trying. Actually, her notes were in more detail than his.

“I just don't understand it.”

“What?”

“All of it.”

“All of history?”

“Sure- let’s go with that.” She shrugged leaning her head back on the bookshelf.

“I think history can be confusing sometimes too.” Changmin let her textbook rest on his lap. The two of them looked out the huge windows in front of them, watching the storm rage on outside. Occasionally, a flash of lightning would light up the library. “You know, I’m in Professor Jeong’s class too.”

“You are?”

Chanhee was right. She had no idea he existed until now and unless he played his cards right, she would forget about him the moment she left this building. “Yeah...I sit two rows behind you.” He watched her eyes widened a little as if she was trying to recall every face she had seen in that classroom. “Actually...to be fully honest...I knew who you were before tonight.”

Her brows furrowed, creating a small crease in the middle of her forehead. Everything about her fascinated Changmin, even down to her smallest expression. Getting a little nervous, he started rummaging through his backpack. As he chose his next words carefully in his mind, Changmin pulled out a half-full plastic water bottle and portable charger he forgot he carried.

Interested in the boy’s previous statement, Y/n watched him with intrigue. “I-uh....” His hands shakily turned on his phone’s flashlight after plugging his phone into the charger. “We went to the same high school. You and I have shared classes since grade nine.” Her jaw dropped a little at his words.

“I feel....like such a bitch.”

“Oh no-” He stuttered, trying to balance the water bottle over his flashlight- creating a makeshift lantern.

“Oh my god, I am the biggest asshole! I’ve never once noticed you in seven years? You must hate me!”

His heart warmed, seeing how bothered she was. He felt a little pride swell in his chest knowing that Sunwoo and Chanee were completely wrong about Y/n. “No, not at all! I just think we had different friend groups that’s all.”

Shrouded in the light from their little water lamp the two of them exchanged old high school gossip that Changmin never quite understood from the outside. “Wait so Miyoung stole Yeonu away from Hajoon?” Changmin covered his mouth in shock, his eyes widening in a cute way.

Y/n smiled and nodded, hand falling on his knee. “Yeah- I know right!”

“And Yeonu was the guy who-”

“Yeah who sold Class 4B the midterm answers!”

Changmin let loose a huge sigh. “Damn- I missed so much in high school by just studying and playing games.” This time a comfortable silence fell between the two students on the floor. By the way her eyes were drooping, Y/n assumed it was about three am.

“Nah you just missed....a whole lot of drama.” She yawned shaking her head to stay awake.

It was then that Changmin’s willpower gave in to the weariness of his body. His brain no longer had control of his mouth at that moment. “What if I tutored you?”

A sleepily smile slid onto Y/n’s face. She turned her head against the shelf to look up at the boy next to her. His hopes fell as she laughed a little. “I need more help than just History.”

“What else?”

“Math, Physics, Psych...”

“I can help you with all of that too!”

Changmin hated how eager he sounded. “What are you? Some kind of genius?” She smiled even though her back was getting sore and the sound of the rain was lulling her to sleep.

“No, just a mathematics major whose parents paid for top tutors until he was sixteen.”

The girl stared at him. Her expression was unclear. In her mind, she knew there had to be some catch. No way was this guy going to tutor her in all the subjects she needed for nothing. “What’s your rate, Genius?”

“Like money?

She nodded, turning to fully face the boy. Y/n waited for some terrible number that was hellbent on destroying her bank account. Changmin on the other hand was panicking trying to decipher what number was high enough to get her to say yes but not low enough to make her think that he wasn’t serious. “Um.....$8?”

“An hour? For four subjects?”

“Yes...”

“DEAL!”

Once again Changmin was frozen as Y/n threw her arms around him in a hug. His hands returned to their familiar place- up in the air, shaking, and far away from her.

The pair spent the next hours with textbooks sprawled around them. Changmin patiently assessed where Y/n was in each of her subjects, surprised how someone of her intelligence was struggling. He found that she was indeed very bright- but simply not understanding the information the way it was being given to her.

Neither of them noticed the rain stopping or even the sun rising with a pink and orange glow coming over the horizon, morning light sliding across the marbled floor. They didn’t even notice the sound of keys being turned in the front doors hours earlier they tried so hard to open.

“What are you kids doing here?” The two students looked up to see one of the librarians standing in the doorway, keys in hand.

They looked at each other before scrambling to grab their things and running out the doors. The warm, wet morning air greeted them as they stumbled outside. The sun was just peaking over the buildings and Y/n smiled at the dew clinging to the bright green blades of grass lining the sidewalks. It was a new day and a new hope filled her chest. “We’re finally out!” Changmin cheered, jumping up and down adorably.

Y/n found it precious that someone so tall and graceful looking could be so clumsy and cute. “Changmin, I can’t thank you enough. I don’t think anyone could have explained the Joseon Era principles better.”

“Oh- i-it was nothing.”

“Here,” Taking a pen from her pocket she reached for his right arm and rolled up the sleeve of his hoodie. He took the moment to once again appreciate her beauty up close while the girl wrote her number on his arm. When she was done she placed the pen in his large hand and looked at him expectantly. “Aren’t you going to give me yours?”

Changmin vigorously nodded his head ‘yes’ and internally screamed at his brain to remember the numbers to his own phone number. With anything but steady hands, he wrote his number on her forearm and basked in the glow of the smile he received.

“So-uh..I’ll call you? You’ll call me? We can talk about times that work?”

“Yeah! Dates....and what not...Study-dates I mean! Tutoring! Yes.”

“Awesome! I can’t wait! Thank you so much, you have no idea how much you are saving my ass.” Y/n cheered as she started to back away towards her dorm.

“So you’ll call me?” He called after her. His feet were planted firmly where he stood for he feared if he moved an inch he might float away.

She laughed, her smile even brighter in the growing daylight. “Or something, yeah!”

“Okay!” He watched Y/n unit she rounded a corner before letting all the joy explode from his body in a fit of jumps, hollers, cheers, dance, and maybe what some might consider singing.

The sun basked in the boy’s glee as he danced and jumped his way down the sidewalk screaming “YES! SHE KNOWS WHO I AM!” His body was no longer sore and his mind was no longer tired. Instead, he ran all the way back to his apartment with a grin that the sun could not compete with.

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