#and it just wasn’t something i ever caught onto lol. i guess i was too in my own feelings about feeling monstrous/inhuman bc of my fatness ? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

doctordbd · 2 years

Text

Power struggle pt. 2

Since you guys wanted it so much I present to you power struggle. This is just the after math of what happened after part one, i actually don’t recommend reading the first one since it was so bad and that was more of a self indulgence for me. I was questioning my sexuality and gender at the time (lol) but if you want to read it it’s right here (I might delete the first one later and redo it)

: pt. 1

Warnings: belly bulge, sub frank, dom reader, hints of sexual favors, top reader, no pronouns used for reader but they have a ding dong, dumbifaction, Dacryphilia because Frank is a cry baby. Frank having a sexual crisis, public sex sort of, almost getting caught, drool, gapping. Cream pie, no proper after care, a lil bit of Dwight x reader?? 🤨 obvious NSFW below the line

﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊

“Guhh!” The feeling of sweat ran down Frank’s neck, his body was hot. The smell of sex clinging onto his body like a deep cologne. His face flushed as he hid it in a pillow that occupied the bare bed in the house that sat at the top of the cold wind farm map. Body shaking as he tried to mimic the feeling of having something fill him. Inexperienced fingers working to find his sweet spot all the while lazily stroking his cock.

Frank didn’t know what was happening to him. After that trial with.. you, he hasn’t been able to do anything normally. The thought of you and the thought of you inside of him was taking over every waking moment. Making out with Julie has even become weird as he had never been on the submissive side before and now with this new found kink he doesn’t know if he wants to stop.

It was one time but ever since then he hasn’t been able to look you in the eye. Frank wasn’t clear if it was out of pride or embarrassment but he couldn’t bear to face you for a long time. Hell, he couldn’t even look at his teams face for a while, the thought of telling them or them seeing him in such a state haunted him.

That was why he was in cold wind, before Frank wasn’t scared to jerk one off in one of the rooms in Ormand. It was their sanctuary after all. Their place of rest. But now it drove Frank mad worrying someone might catch him touching himself in such a way. At least here he would be provided a little more privacy knowing rarely anyone comes up here.

The problem for privacy was solved, the main problem now is why is his orgasm taking so long? His slender fingers were all he thought he needed to get the job done, but it wasn’t working. It wasn’t you. The excessive spit that he used for a makeshift lube leaked out of his hole as he hopelessly tried to find the certain bundle of nerves that would have him seeing stars.

Frank choked out a sob, letting tears fall down his blotched face, growing frustrated at his feeble attempts of getting off. He tried to picture you doing it to him. Your hands on his chest, playing with his sensitive nipples. Your tongue tracing over the bite marks you would litter his body with. Frank shivered at the thought.

He wanted you to ruin him.

After a while of no progress and the constant thrust of his fingers started to hurt he pulled out. His walls clenching around nothing hoping for something to fill it.

Frank weakly sat up from the pillow, a grimace look found it’s way on his face as he saw how much droll and tears he left on it. He truly is pathetic, whining and crying for God knows how long for a person who fucked him just out of hatred and spite.

He wanted to hate you for it, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know what to do.

He flipped the pillow, using the dry side to wipe the spit that slid down his digits.

Pulling his pants up and placing his mask back on his face he walked out of the Thompson residents, stumbling a little after having toyed with his now sore hole for what he could guess was for hours. Hands in his pocket as he planned on what to do next. But one thing was for certain, he needed to see you.

Frank leant on a tree just outside of the survivors camp. There were too many damn cabins to tell which one was yours. Hoping to catch you leave the food hall as it seems all the survivors just finished eating and were making their way back to their individual cabins.

And that’s when he saw you. Did you get a new cosmetic? Because it seems there was something different about you today. You carried yourself with your head held high as you chatted with your fellow survivors. It irked Frank knowing his and your interaction made you that way.

He couldn’t help but also notice your ensemble; a military green shirt that warped tightly around your frame, him taking note of how good of a job it did showing your muscles. The dog tags bouncing up and down everytime you took a confident stride. Along with the army greens tactical pants and black combat boots to match.

You truly were a sight to see as Frank had caught himself staring just a little too long, too hypnotized by your strong arms that were littered with scars. Your hand that held flashlight with great strength.

With a painful punch to his chest he tried to collect himself. He needed to focus. But it was so hard when it came to you, evidence being he was becoming completely undone just by looking at you.

At this point you had seemingly said your goodbyes and was making your way to your cabin. The group you were with one by one slipped away into their own cabins leaving you the only one left. It was quite a ways to go to get to yours. You walked for a bit longer before hearing a singular “hey”. You turned around fully expecting to see one of your friends coming back to tell you something, but you quickly realized that the sound was coming from the thick wood that circled the camp.

It wasn’t the first time Danny or even Trickster would come over and try to scare you guys. So you were quite surprised to see the one and only Frank Morrison whispering to you through some bushes. Him obviously not wanting to be seen as he hid some of his body behind a tree.

It had been a while since you had talked with Frank and you couldn’t really blame him, the shame one would feel being completely plowed by someone that is supposed to be lesser then them would be unimaginable. A smirk had a way onto your face as you remembered the trial, truth be told it has been on your mind a lot too.

“Didn’t think I’d hear from you again, Frank.” you start, eyes musing on his mask that was slightly off his face revealing the visibly hate filled expression.

Frank gritted his teeth, he wanted to say something, anything, but his tongue suddenly felt too big for his throat. You tilted your head in confusion.

“You’re the one who called me over here, and yet you have nothing to say.” You crossed your arms as you waited patiently for an answer.

“If you’re worried I’ve told someone, don’t worry I didn’t. Wouldn’t want to hurt your killer rep, now would I?” You said in a fake concerned tone. A tone the Frank couldn’t stand. He hung his head low trying to figure out what to say.

After a few more moments of uncomfortable silence you decide to start heading back to your cabin, walking away from the flustered killer. Frank panicking knowing this might be his last chance getting to see you alone.

“Wait!” He whisper yelled you stopped in your tracks yet again. Turning your head towards the killer, a bored expression dressed your face as you were in no mood to play games.

Frank looked around one last time before extending his arm out to you. You looked at his hand and back to his face, he must’ve been out of his mind if he thought you’d follow him into the deep, dark wood.

In the camp you were safe, secure. Out there he could do almost anything to you under the entity’s rule. Yet, momma always did say that your curiosity would get the better of you one day. With a huff of disbelief mostly aimed at yourself, you took his hand. The familiar burn of power gracing your senses. Whatever gave you power that trial was definitely back and ready for seconds.

Frank must’ve felt it too, tugging your arm not in a demanding way, but in an almost servile way. Like you were in control and he was merely moving you along, like a child would do to their parent, rushing them along to get to their desired destination.

Reluctantly, you followed the young killer to wherever he wanted to take you, his eyes foward and his mouth shut, you decide to do the same thing as the walk there was dead quiet. The only noise being the twigs that snapped under your feet.

You make note of how far you walked from the camp, whatever he wanted to do he wanted to do privately.

All of a sudden, Frank stops in his tracks, you being unaware of the action knocking into him. Regaining your balance you apologize, only for Frank to grab you by your shirt and shove you against a tree, pulling you into a deep kiss.

The kiss itself was enough to make you throw him off of you but you noticed how his body reacted to the kiss, the hands that he used to shove you into the tree were now clawing at the fabric of the sleeves. His legs buckled and were seemingly about to give out. You gingerly grabbing his waist to help him as he leaned more into you. Exploring your mouth as he let out whorish moans, like you were the most addicting drug, he was craving more of you.

With a paining groan Frank detached his lips from yours, a string of saliva connecting you two.

Heavy breaths filled the air, your head leaning back against the tree eyes closed in bliss, been a while since you’ve last had this.

You opened your eyes and looked down at the quivering male, his once hate filled eyes now completely blown out and filled with lust. Tear collecting at the corners. Was he about to cry?

The sight itself made you groan, using the grip on his hips to bring them closer to yours. Roughly grinding against him as if you were in rut. Frank welcoming it with open arms as wrapped his arms around your neck, hiding his face in your shirt, his drooling problem coming back into light as he was quick to cover your shirt collar in saliva.

Holy shit did that turn you on

You used your strength to turn him over. Now he was pinned against the tree and your chest was to his back, not allowing much room for him, but yet again that was the point. Shoving past his belt of faulty bullets you ran your hand along side his leaking shaft. Frank bucking his hips to try and gain friction from your hand that you kept pulling away. Just enough were he was aching for your touch but enough were he could still feel you touch him.

His face was now in his elbow as he let out loud huffs of frustration from your teasing. A part of him just wanted to push you over and ride you in the middle of the forest. So he can finally itch the scratch you’ve left that trial. But he wanted this even more. He wanted your hands on him, the hands that would make his skin feel on fire every time you touched, squeezed and prodded at him. He wanted your face close to his like it is now. Whispering at him. Calling him a whore, a slut, your slut.

He wanted all of you and more, so he complied with your teasing. As much as it pained him to, deep down he really loved it.

Frank let out a strangled cry as you finally wrapped your large hand around his cock. His precum providing a good lube as you wasted no time moving your hand up and down his shaft. His legs buckled under him as you set a brutal pace with your hand. Frank bucking in your hands slightly, but enough for you notice and coo at him.

His face was hot even though his mask was long tossed away and forgotten. Your words making him even more flustered then he already was, if that was possible.

The tightening feeling in his stomach made him let out an embarrassingly loud and pitiful moan. Something he would be embarrassed about later but not right now. Right now he was savoring the feeling of his rapidly approaching orgasm.

You felt the thrusts in your hand speed up, slopping and uneven. He was fucking himself with your hand, your dick reacting with an excited twitch that Frank felt on his backside. Groaning at the friction while rolling his eyes to the back of his skull. He gave a final thrust before he released all over your hand and landing some on the tree in front of him. Pumping your hand a few times to help him ride out his orgasm.

After a while, Frank started to jerk away from your hand. You find it cute as his face contorts back and forth from blissed to overstimulated. Finally letting go of his cock, you bring your hand up to his face for him and you to see the glistening hot liquid seep down your fingers. He tried to turn his head but you were quick to grab his jaw and turn his head back to his mess.

“Don’t be embarrassed to look at the mess you’ve made.”

Frank groaned at your words. feeling you release his jaw and used your clean hand to shove his pants down even more along with his boxers, gripping at the firm mounds before stepping back and crouching down. pulling his hips towards you so he was now bent over. Franks hands still clinging onto the tree.

“W-what are you doin -NGH- ah!”

Frank tried to talk but was quickly silenced by you spreading his ass open and using Frank’s -now cold- load to trace around his rim. You had fun running your finger over the bumpy skin while listening to Frank trying to keep himself quiet. All the while trying to stand on his on two feet without your help. It was a real challenge not to just fall down on the moist forest floor and have you take him there. But he pushed through, or so he thought when you abruptly shoved two fingers into his hole. Franks back arched while his fingers dug into the tree bark, hanging on for dear life as his legs were now jelly.

the lewd shlick sounds made Frank whine as you teased around his sweet bundle of nerves, you knew where it was but you purposely ignored it, it made Frank look back at you with a weak scowl. You on the other hand watch with pure fascination at how eager his hole was. swallowing your fingers with such need to be filled, it nearly made you drool.

You knew his orgasm was coming when his long flustered moans turned to high pitched broken ones. Frank trying his best to hide it but failing miserably.

Your goal wasn’t to get another orgasm out of him but to prepare him for you. so you took your fingers out at a painfully slow pace. Watching as his hole clench around nothing. Only god knows how much you want to ruin this man.

You sit up and finally unzip your pants. Haven grown unbearably tight since the moment his lips touched yours. Freeing your cock out of it’s confining prison. Standing proud and tall, with your aching tip producing a hefty amount of precum. with a sigh of relief you began stroking yourself, smearing your pre all over your cock. Running your thumb over the slit a couple of times.

With a few more strokes you let it go and let it fall on Franks backside, Frank moaning at the hot and heavy mass on his back, feeling you move back and forth leaving a gorgeous trail of your semen on his back. After a few pleas and whines from Frank to quit your teasing, you eventually grab ahold of your throbbing member and align it to his hole. Pushing in at a slow speed, making Frank groan.

“S-stop fuckin teasIN. And just put it in already-”

With a huff you pushed the rest in, bottoming out fully. Setting a brutal pace as you forced his hips to yours at every thrust. Frank letting out a shrill cry that would wake any forest animal if the entity’s realm had any. The sheer power you had over him made Frank lightheaded. After ignoring you- ignoring himself for so long he finally had you. He finally felt content with himself. That itch was finally being scratched.

Franks constant nagging was getting on your last nerve, so you were pleased to see he had his face in his elbow. Letting out a short moan every time you thrusted into him. Tears threaten to spill at the cover of his eyes, Frank was in total bliss. Havin being filled once more by you was a dream come-

“Are you sure you saw them go this way”

Frank froze, supposedly you too, as your thrusts slowed down, but not entirely stopping. There were people in the words.

People looking for you two.

“I’m sure Cheryl, Frank took them somewhere around here.”

Of course.

Dwight and Cheryl.

Frank would be glaring at them and run them off if you weren’t balls deep inside of him. If you two get caught what would happen to him? What would happen if the other killers found out? When they find out that a killer already constantly looked down upon gets caught getting his guts rearranged by a survivor? The one thing in this God forsaken world he’s supposed to hunt, torture, and kill? Everything that he’s worked hard to get will be in shambles. He is putting himself and his team at risk, so why did he do it?

Because it feels so good.

The tears that threaten to fall earlier quickly decide to finally spill past his eyes. He wasn’t in the right state of mind to do anything else so he did the only thing he could do at the moment, and that was to cry. You rip your eyes from the two curious survivors and back at Frank, this is the first time in your life that you wished Dwight wasn’t such a good friend.

So you snaked one of your hands that were previously grabbing his hips and covered his quivering mouth as you started to thrust your hips at a much faster pace. Frank moaning at the returning pleasure. His eyes foggy but not leaving the two people walking dangerously close to were they were. You saw Frank look back at you with pleading eyes. Those eyes, those eyes did nothing but make you want to fuck him even more. You lean down next to his ear and say:

: You -huff- don’t want to get caught right? Then I’m gonna need ya to -huff- stay quiet for me ok? Can’t have all your friends know what -huff- you do in your free time.”

You watched as his reaction changed from pleading to absolute mess. Tears now streaming down his face and drool seeped through your fingers as your ruthless pace never faltered, your free hand now on his cock. Stroking it with the same speed you were fucking him in.

You had no intent on stopping till you were finished and satisfied. The two of you getting caught would be a minor inconvenience for you but you knew the fear Frank must feel right about now, You could’ve stopped but, at the end of the day it didn’t seem like Frank wanted you to stop all that much. You were in full control of this moment, it was your choice were this was going to go.

This is the type of power that you’ve heard about that most grow drunken on.

You’ve made up your mind and continued to thrust into him. Your hand doing everything in its power to keep Frank’s noises in. As it seems like he picked this time to babble and moan the loudest.

You listen with open ears as you heard Dwight and Cheryl’s footsteps shuffle away, relief washing over the both of you. Or what was once relief now panic when one of your thrusts hit his special spot. The one leaving him seeing white. The one spot that made Frank let out a high-pitched moan the surpassed your hands and out onto Dwight’s careful ears, turning around momentarily.

“Did you hear that?”

Frank didn’t know what did it, maybe it was the fact that he was moments away from being caught, and the fear of being caught excited him. Or the way your length stretched him out to the point it felt like you were fucking his brain, his hand on his stomach right over the noticeable bulge that would come to rearrange his insides one thrust at a time. Or maybe it was you, your large body pressed against his, as you work to pleasure him and yourself. Going the extra mile as to cover his mouth for him for his was too shaky to actually do anything. Whatever the reason it was enough to finally tip the scale. Frank shaking under you a -little more harshly this time- before at last cumming all over your hand. His hips didn’t know either to buck into your hand or onto your cock. So he did a sloppy version of both. Legs shaking as his juices leaked from your hand and onto the ground, riding out his delicious high.

You couldn’t really focus much on him because you watch with careful eyes as you see Dwight look around one last time before turning around and walking the opposite way.

“You’re definitely just hearing things, just like how your just seeing things. Besides what would [name] be doing with Frank anyway?” Cheryl said.

“*sigh maybe your right, I just.. I don’t know, I guess I’m just seeing things” Dwight said putting his hand on his head, his face a little flushed. Something Cheryl picked up on quickly.

The two survivors finally walking away finally leaving you and Frank to your own devices. You watched as they finally disappeared behind the tree line. Releasing your hand from Franks mouth, you looked down. Frank was immobile, cheek pressed against the rough tree bark and hands lightly pressed against the tree as well. Weak butchered moans left his mouth every time you thrusted into him.

He was a sight indeed, the very thing you needed to see to get you going again. Putting your hands back on his hips you used his body to get yourself off. Throwing your head back as his walls clamped around you, his walls shaped just for you and you only. He did come to you after all, he wanted you again, he wanted to be filled with you again. The thought threw you over the edge, your hips meeting as you burrowed yourself in him. emptying yourself into his warm hole. Frank letting out a long groan at the feeling of being full of your seed. You can tell it was too much for him to take as some of your semen escaped out of his hole. Droplets hitting the ground.

After a while you pull out, taking a step back to look at the mess you’ve made. The lack of support caught up with Frank as he slid down the tree and onto the forest floor. A firm reminder of the first night you had together.

His gapping hole was your best work, Frank’s ass covered and dripping in your cum. As well as the red hand marks on his hips, a telltale sign of your former roughness. Marks that -if you weren’t in the entity’s realm- would definitely bruise later.

And his face, his face was the embodiment of sexual bliss. Being satisfied to the point where one would pass out. It was almost endearing. But you had no plans but to be nothing more then just fuck buddies. Maybe sex for your life? it seemed like a fair deal. If he didn’t agree there was always blackmail, but you had a feeling he would agree. So with your last remaining strength you wrench his pants back over his waist. Picking up his mask and pulling it back over his face, moving the strands of dirty hair off his sweaty forehead.

After that you pick him up and walk him over to a new area one where there wasn’t any semen on the trees. He reeked of sex and so did you so you took his jacket off and laid it next to him. Maybe that’ll air him out. You thought your plan was flawless till you saw a wet patch around his butt area.

Fuck

You totally forgot about the total cream pie you gave this guy about 20 minutes prior. You quickly took the jacket and put it over his lap. Maybe he’ll take that as a warning to walk around with caution.

You got up from your knees and dusted them off. Putting your hands on your hips while you look down at Frank.

‘Funny how time repeats itself huh?’

You let out a snicker, Fixing up the best you can without really being able to see yourself. Buckling your pants to finish, you began to walk away from Frank. Before he called you into the woods you really had no plans, but now you were feeling rather drained, so now you were going to sleep good tonight.

That’s what you thought before a singular crow landed on your shoulder. Looking right into your eyes with its beady little ones. You let out a little chuckle before letting the fog consume you.

——————————

“I’m sorry for dragging you out into the woods off only a hallucination.” Dwight apologizes. His fingers fiddling with each other, head held low. They were nearly to the camp as the smoke from the fire can be seen close up ahead.

Cheryl looked back at him with a friendly smile.

“It’s no worries, you thought you saw someone you care about going into the forest with some killer. Your a good friend, Dwight.” She reassures.

Putting a hand on his shoulder her friendly smile quickly turned into a teasing smirk.

“But thinkin about Y/n so much to the point that your seeing them everywhere is quite suspicious don’t change think hm? Are we gonna talk about that? Why are they on your mind so much Dwight~?”

Dwight’s face flushed at the assumption. Pushing her away and covering his face.

“No, no! it’s not like that! W-we’re just friends!”

“Sure, sure you can lie to yourself all you want but I know the truth.” Cheryl teased, Dwight letting out an embarrassed groan, opening his fingers slightly. Peering off onto the vast forest. You two were merely just friends..

Right?

﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊﹊

AN:

So I sense some Dwight x reader chemistry?🤔 maybe, maybe not. You will never know. Have a good day/evening/night guys love you 🖤 might get another fic today if not today then definitely tomorrow

Edit: Im still editing this even tho I already published it. Im so bad at this. I need to reread my fics more often and not just when I finish uploading them

#dbd #slasher fucker #love you #fanfic #horror #smut #frank is a bottom #frank morrison #frank Morrison is bbg #dbd fanfic #dead by daylight fanfic #dom reader #top reader #top male reader #male reader #slasher x reader #sub character #amab reader #no gender terms used but I’m putting male because we need more fics

715 notes · View notes

weepingvoidpenguin · 3 years

Text

Unfortunately Yours

Summary: When you and Bucky successfully infiltrate a HYDRA auction, you’re told to stay another day due to max capacity on the jet. But how are you going to survive a night alone with this insufferable Super Soldier? Especially considering the miniscule size of the room and the obvious dilemma presented; who gets the bed?

Warning: S M U T , the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written, language, spit kink, daddy kink, ptsd symptoms, slight voyeurism, slight exhibitionism, hate-s e x, rough, more like enemies-to-lovers kind of thing, gagging, m!receiving, f!receiving, lots of receiving lol, 18+, M

Word Count: 10.6K (Whhhyyyyy)

Your body burned with exhaustion and the sheer weight of your extremities felt enough to drag you to the floor and mirror a coma with the length of your hibernation. You no longer had the minimal strength required to pick up your feet properly which resulted in the sound of shuffling to fill the small, and by small you meant miniscule, room you’d been assigned to.

Well, you and Bucky had been assigned to.

You’d both played your parts well enough over the course of the last few hours. You’d sauntered into the ran-shacked looking bar with Bucky’s arm tossed lazily over your shoulder, his distaste for the assignment evident on his face, but he’d cleared it away the second his foot crossed the threshold. He pulled you in tighter to his body and raised his chin into the air, emitting the energy of a man not to be trifled with. You’d portrayed your role as a damsel just as, if not more, convincing as Barnes’ opposite. Your shoulders hunched over and your steps were small and quivering, the wig on your head a tool used to curtain the hair in your face.

You were the lamb to this White Wolf.

Word had traveled through the dark and twisted grapevine that a certain showing of sorts took place tonight and a high-ranking target was rumored to be amongst its audience. You and Barnes were on the first flight to Germany within minutes.

Bucky had pulled you through the crowd moving along to the thundering music in the background and halted at the edge of the bar. His grip on your shoulder tightened once he’d caught the man’s attention and you winced, his fingers digging a little too deep for your liking.

The bartender scanned you over and took in your frame, making you feel smaller than you had already displayed yourself to be. It took him a while to conclude but when he took in Bucky’s domineering gaze, a look as if to say Deny me, I dare you, he nodded once and wrote something down on a napkin, sliding it over to Bucky.

Scum. All of them.

You nearly blew your cover trying to throw Bucky a look but you refrained from the hellfire clawing its way out of you. You had to be perfectly in control, emotions and beliefs aside. You were a damsel and you had to make certain they believed that. You knew they were watching; they always were.

“Relax,” Bucky hissed, pulling you under his arm and bringing his lips to your ear.

“When you pretend you’re the one being put up for auction, then you can tell me to relax,” you muttered, never looking up from the ground.

“I have been.” When you paused your movement, he pulled away to scan the room, “Nothing’s gonna happen to you. I promise.” He led you backstage and turned the corner to a dimly lit hallway, barren of any decoration in sharp contrast to every other section of the building, “Besides, once they realize how insufferable you are, they’ll be begging me to take you back,”

He opened an iron door and pushed you into the room, sending you tumbling down onto the carpet. He tsked, stepping over you and not looking back after shutting the door behind himself. You counted thirteen pairs of feet and judging by the way some of them were turned towards you, they had to be watching. You observed your hands for a second, counting slowly until you figured you’d stalled long enough and sent your trembling gaze to the exit. Bucky let out a low chuckle and clasped his hand around your upper arm, launching you back onto your feet and twisting your body to face him.

Oh, darling, German fluently escaped his tongue and you nearly rolled your eyes at the condescending tone settled in his words, You know better than that, don’t you?

His hold tightened and you winced, holding back the whimper in your throat. If you saw any hint of a bruise forming on your arm, you would give him hell later . . . and possibly even if you didn’t.

You bit your tongue and let him lead you towards a leather chair before he pulled you swiftly down onto his lap where his hand remained on your thigh, brushing the inside softly. Had you not been so annoyed, you’d have been humiliated at all the stares devouring the scene unfolding before them.

Good girl, he drawled and pressed your back flat up against his chest where he could put you on display.

You knew you should’ve been annoyed, or at least settled so into your role as his temporary whore-for-sale that the sensation coming alive between your thighs shouldn’t have made an appearance. But sometimes, the way Bucky brought his voice down real low and cooed an insult or jest your way just had an affect that your body would not deny. It kept you awake a lot.

Instead, you swallowed hard and let yourself be splayed against him. You ignored the scent of sandalwood in his cologne.

Your body trembled from the cold breeze floating around in the room and you shifted in Bucky’s lap to block everyone’s sight from the way your chest reacted to the change in temperature.

Don’t be shy, he murmured and removed your arms from your breasts, letting the thin, practically see-through fabric show you to the world.

“Buc-” You started, your panic creeping through the cracks at the cheshire sneers sent your way, but at the first sign of your discomfort, he retracted his hands and twisted you around gently, throwing your legs over the side of the chair and spreading them but forcing your upper half to face him. Effectively, cutting your chest off from their line of sight.

You trembled out a sigh and he grabbed your face tightly, drawing your eyes to his. He examined you, his hardened gaze shouting words he couldn’t currently say. But you understood. He could be a jerk, but he wasn’t a bad man.

Your body instinctively leaned into him for warmth as another breeze engulfed you, resulting in a shiver that made its way up your spine. “Are they still looking?” you inquired and he gripped your neck with a ferocity that made you squirm in his lap. Fuck.

He pulled your ear to his lips and licked the helix. You whimpered. “No,” he whispered, running his thumb along your jawline, “But if you don’t quit fucking squirming you’re gonna have a problem, Doll,”

You opened your mouth in question when you felt a sudden twitch on your backside and you swallowed. Hard. He never broke eye contact with you, instead choosing to raise a brow in mocking. Your chest heaved up and down and how you could feel his breath grazing on your cheek almost had you rubbing your legs together for some form of desperate friction. No, you had to keep yourself composed, keep the act going. But he’d seen it. All of it.

You nod your head and slowed your breathing down until he released his grip around your throat and turned his attention towards the dim stage. You leaned back into him and followed suit, making sure to keep your attention downcast and appear disheveled.

“There,” Bucky whispered after a few minutes and you lifted your head only to find the man you had come all this way for walking straight towards you.

Like a moth to a flame.

“How much?” The older man inquired, his grotesque gaze settled on your spread legs.

Bucky looked up at the balding man as if this was the first time he’d noticed his presence, “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?”

The man lifted his brow, or what would’ve been, and smiled wickedly, “I’ll give you double your price if you give her to me now,” he offered, his eyes slithering up to the apex of your thighs and this time you didn’t have to fake the shiver running up your spine.

A small smirk formed on Bucky’s face and he waved his hand dismissively at him, “Get in line,”

The old man sneered but Bucky was right, most everyone had their attention fixated on what was happening currently and it was apparent there was, indeed, a line.

Bucky rested his gloved hand on your upper thigh and gripped tight, whether to refrain from hitting the guy or just to touch you, he wasn’t sure but he couldn’t keep you away when the man said, “I’ll give you four times the asking price but I want her now,”

Bucky’s grip on your thigh tightened and you squeaked at the pain, jumping slightly in his lap. “How about I give her to you for free for ten minutes and you tell me if you can handle her,”

You jerked your head towards Bucky and furrowed your brows. Free? Dick. You nearly scoffed.

The man gripped onto your calf and you shifted to kick his hand away when Bucky’s own shot out and and ripped his off of you, “Don’t touch my stuff,” he spit and the man let out a yell but that only spurred Bucky on and he tightened his fist, “Until terms are agreed upon, she remains mine to do with as I please. Understood?”

The man nodded hastily and Bucky threw you off his lap when he stood up. “Anyone else?” Bucky shouted to the room, daring others to test his limits when it came to you. After a few moments of silence Bucky scoffed, “I didn’t fucking think so,”

Bucky’s grip on the man remained and he stared down at the hunched figure, “Now, you,” he addressed and the room remained silent. This was allowed here.

Normally, merchandise couldn’t be touched until it was purchased. No buying before the auction, no discussing what you’re offering, no negotiating but most importantly don’t try to steal from anyone. These are criminals and that being said, they handle things amongst themselves. They know the rules and the risks they take breaking them.

So, when Bucky drags the poor bastard away, you follow right behind him. Not a protest to be heard. Bucky throws open the door we entered through and finds the nearest room before chucking the HYDRA agent inside and locking the door behind you.

The room was brightly lit, with all four walls a dull cream color and dark brown couches strewn casually about. There’s no real order to this place. All cement corners and LED bulbs. Pure business.

“Let ‘em know,” Bucky orders and you turn around to argue only to find the man pulling a gun out of his jacket pocket.

You jerk suddenly and kick Bucky square in the stomach, launching him towards one of the couches just as a shot rings out. You blanch at the sound, the noise filling your head and drowning everything else out. You hear yelling but you can’t make out the words, only the panic intermingled within them. Your hand reaches out around you and you grip the small button lined into your thin clothing, pressing it four times how you’d been instructed.

Everything moved slowly and people began filing into the room. How did they get here so fast? No. It wasn’t possible, they were a quarter mile down the road, there was no way they were your backup.

Hands began flying in the air and you were picked up and dropped multiple times, each time landing harder than the last. You tried to blink back the spinning but the blows landing on your face and torso made it all the worse.

Instinctively, you threw your hands up to protect your face and fought to find some footing to help. Bucky was good but he wasn’t a God, he would need help. When the first blow met your forearms you reached out to grasp the hand and used your other to drive your fist right into the person’s nose. The bone crunched under your blow.

You took a hit, then another when you managed to analyze the enemy’s fight pattern and waited until he left himself open before driving your knee into his rib cage. He bent over in pain and you grabbed him by the hair, hearing another crack when you shoved your elbow upwards against his nose.

You heard a shout and whipped your head over to see Bucky on his back, a looming figure with a gun aimed straight towards him. You galvanized towards them and threw yourself in the air, using your weight to kick him off of Bucky when another shot rang out.

Bucky shot up and crushed the gun with his metal arm. You scoured the room for the familiar HYDRA agent but found him nowhere. You shot out of the room, knocking into an opposing wall as you turned the corner and ducked when the sound of a bullet whizzed past you.

This is not going good. You had lost your target and rummaged through room after room until you’d become lost. Fuck. Where the hell did he run off to? You winced after breaking out into a sprint but pressed on, not allowing yourself to slow down. There was no way you were going to fail this mission, especially after coming so close to success.

Sweat trailed down your face and your muscles screamed at you to halt, their exhaustion beginning to wear you down. Your breathing grew rapid and your vision blurred and just as you went to lean on a wall to rest, your shoulder exploded out in pain and you collapsed with a cry.

“Dirty whore,” the HYDRA man seethed, a cane raised over his head. He brought it down and you spun to the side, feeling the air breeze past your ear.

Your hand latched onto the cane and you shoved it into his gut, pushing him away. SHIELD wanted this guy alive, so alive they would receive him. That didn’t mean he had to come in one piece though.

You tore the walker out of his hand just as he tumbled onto his ass. You stood up, grunting along the way and hovered over his body, fear sprawled along his features.

“You can either stay still or get beat with your own cane, it’s your choice,” you offered, aching to bring the walker down onto his face. “Please test me. Please.” You begged.

His gaze shifted between you and the weapon and he brought his trembling hands up in defeat. He must’ve been an agent of some Intelligence branch because his fighting abilities were evidently subpar at best.

You sighed, sad to see the opportunity go but brought the cane down none the less. “That’s unfortunate,”

You turned your attention to the sound of running coming around the corner and moved to drag and hide your captive in a nearby closet only to roll your eyes when Bucky came ‘round. You tossed the cane back and forth between your hands and smiled proudly towards the agent on the floor.

“Look who I caught,” you toyed and were met with a grunt.

“Only because you let him get away,” he retorted, pulling the balding man up to his feet.

Everything began to slow and the hellfire you’d kept under mounds of ice had finally melted through its freezing cage. “What?”

He turned his back towards you and trudged the hesitant man behind him towards the exit.

“I said,” you hollered, not caring how the halls carried your echo, “What?”

“I heard what you said,” he called back to you, not bothering to turn around.

And there you were left, frozen and dumbfounded for five solid minutes before you could pull yourself together enough to stomp your way back towards the rendezvous point. You remained hazy for the most part while debriefing. You tried to recount everything but the way your anger engulfed you in its flame obscured your memory so you kept it short.

It was quickly brought up that SHIELD captured more HYDRA agents than expected and were gonna be at max capacity so you and Bucky had to stay at a base a few miles down the road. You grumbled in compliance but Bucky didn’t respond, not even a godforsaken grunt.

What SHIELD had failed to mention though, was that this bunker was clearly meant for one. It barely counted as a room. There was a small bathroom in the corner just big enough for a shower and toilet. No sink. And a small counter with just enough space for a stove, microwave and radio. If you were to lay down vertically or horizontally you’d nearly be touching wall each way. Not to mention the singular bed.

And that’s how you got to where you were now. Miniscule room. Exhausted body. Drained mind. Patience long gone.

You huffed and dropped your bag in front of the entrance before walking to the bathroom and turning to slam the door closed. You turned the faucet on and ripped the wig off, discarding your clothes in a pile before stepping into the shower. The warm water was nice and welcoming but your body already felt aflame so you twisted the knob and held your breath when the cold stream trickled down your body. It was difficult to breathe at first, but your body soon adjusted to the temperature and you began wiping the muck off your skin with the bar of soap supplied. But that’s all the was supplied. Clearly, this place was meant to be a quick pit stop.

You sat on the hard floor as the water streamed onto your body. You could nearly fall asleep to its rhythm; It was only when your head hit the wall that you realized you were so you begrudgingly stood up and shut off the water. You grabbed the only towel in the bathroom and pat yourself dry, noticing just then that you left your clothes outside.

You let out a long sigh and twisted open the doorknob to find Bucky toying with the radio on the counter; not even purposefully, just looking for something to do while he waited.

You opened your mouth to ask him to hand you your bag but after what he said to you earlier you’d sooner eat hot coals than ask him to do anything for you. You stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped neatly around your chest and you bent over to open your bag. The shuffling on the radio stopped.

“You could’ve at least left me some warm water,” he grumbled and you rolled your eyes.

You searched in your bag for the fresh clothes residing there only to turn around when you found them and have the bathroom door shut in your face.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You shouted, pounding your fist against the door.

You could hear the water running and you groaned, pounding harder. The door opened for a split second and you were hit in the face with the clothes you’d left inside only for it to instantly be slammed shut again.

You punched the door with all the frustration built up over the past few hours and felt the wood crack with your force. Why did this man have to be incredibly baffling? You were not nearly paid enough to deal with such an unbearable partner. He would have you bald from stress before you knew it.

You spent the next few minutes grumbling to yourself after you changed and scribbled your frustration onto a small notebook you took with you everywhere. It was only when you heard the water shut off did you remember something. You still had the only towel. A villainous smirk tugged at your lips and you placed the folded towel on the edge of the bed, away from the door.

Then you heard the creak. “I will walk out naked if you don’t give me the towel,” Bucky threatened.

You shrugged despite him not being able to see you from your position on the bed, “I’ll just laugh at your dick,”

“You weren’t laughing earlier,” he shot back.

Oh. So he did remember. Good. You thought he’d gotten amnesia within the past few hours, maybe he was just too ashamed to mention it.

“Too disgusted to insult. Plus, I was playing a character,”

“Fine,” he responded and quickly came into view, haughtily sauntering over to your side and you shouted.

“Dear God!” You held the towel up to block your sight of his barren body. It was disgusting. He was all wet, hair dripping onto his muscled torso, water gleaming off his taut skin, 5 o’clock shadow drenched and straight out of a wet dream. Jesus.

“Prude,” he commented, snatching the towel from your grasp and wrapping it around himself.

“Respectable,” you corrected, crossing your arms and shoving him away. “You get the floor,”

He lifted his duffle off the ground and rummaged through it. “Then I get the blanket,”

“You get fuck all,” you stated, flipping off the lamp beside you and snuggling into the warm cot.

When the shuffling stopped and the bathroom light was shut off, you shut your eyes and let the wear of the day grab at you, lulling you into the beginning of slumber. That is, until the blanket was hauled from around you, damn near throwing you onto the floor. You shouted out and caught yourself last minute.

“Barnes!” You yelled, steadying yourself and reaching over the edge to grab the blanket back. Your hand fisted at the faux fur and you pulled with all your might to no avail.

He swatted you away as though you were a pesky fly and reached over to turn the light of the lamp on. You glowered at him and stood, wrapping the blanket around your arm and pulling upwards. Your arm strained to its capacity but the man on the floor didn’t budge. Only turned his back to you and shut his eyes. You reached over yourself and flipped the switch of the lamp, once again immersing yourself in the comforting darkness.

Bucky stiffened and opened his eyes then turned and froze you in your spot with his stare. He reached around and lit the lamp, slowly retracting his arm and daring you to turn it off again. So you did.

He yanked the blanket from your grasp and threw you back onto the bed, bringing light into the room. “Light stays on,” he growled.

“No! You’ve had your goddamn way since you stepped foot into this room. Light goes off and I get the blanket!” You shouted, not concerned about anyone else hearing considering the room was soundproof.

“No. You get the bed so I get the blanket. Tell me how that doesn’t make sense,” he countered.

You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting that it did, in fact, make sense. The floor here was wooden and clearly uncomfortable, plus he hadn’t even argued about the bed situation.

You retreated, “Fine, light still goes off,”

“No,”

“Yes,”

Silence fell between the two of you but you weren’t budging. Barnes had faced plenty of monsters, he could handle the dark.

“I need the noise to fall asleep,” he admitted and it was then you could hear the slight hum the bulb emitted.

You didn’t speak for a while but reared back and pulled out your phone, “What do you want to listen to?” You scrolled through a few sounds you had stored on your phone, “We’ve got: nature sounds, frequencies, guided meditations, etc. You name it, but I’m not sleeping with this forsaken light on,”

Bucky studied you, his expression changing a mile a minute but the one of indifference conquered, “Rain,”

You nodded once and selected the audio, placing the phone face up on the nightstand and turning the light off for the last time. Hopefully. You hunkered down into the thin mattress and reached down, grasping at the thick blanket. When you pulled, there was some give. He’d let you get just enough needed to cover your body if you laid at the very edge and your hand hovered in the air when you laid your arm over the side.

Minutes flew by with your eyes shut and the exhaustion slithered over your body but your mind ran wild with the events from earlier. You tried not to get angry or sad or . . . bothered. Your breathing deepened when you began to succumb to your body’s fatigue and you drifted inch by inch into the welcoming void lulling your name.

You didn’t hear when he shifted, only managed to register the faint tracing of his fingertips on your hand before finally giving out.

You weren’t sure what time it was when you opened your eyes for the first time that night. This regularly happened. You’d wake up multiple times during the night to shift positions or throw off the sheets, no matter how insignificant the desire, your body always found a way to wake you for it.

You opened your eyes slowly to a hazy vision and blinked at the sitting figure on the floor, “Bucky?” You croaked, bringing a hand up to wipe at your face, “What time is it?”

“It’s almost one, go back to sleep,”

“What are you doing?” You persisted, ignoring his demand and sitting up slowly, “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Couldn’t,”

A heartbeat. Then another. And another. He didn’t care to elaborate.

“Do you want the bed?” You offered, stretching yourself out and already placing yourself down on the floor, “It’s too hot up there, anyway,”

His attention turned to you for the first time but you’d already began closing your eyes, not really having the energy to argue with him. You could hear shuffling from his spot and the ground disappeared below you, strong hands grasping your body and lifting you up to place you gently back onto the cot.

“I prefer the floor,” he insisted, wrapping the blanket around you, “Besides, you’re a horrendous liar,”

You didn’t hold back the singular chuckle, your haze still enveloping you. “Then why aren’t you sleeping?”

He sat at the foot of the bed, his hand hovering over your leg in hesitation, “It’s complicated.” He dropped his hand to his side.

“Isn’t the rain helping?” you mumbled, your sight now adjusting to the dark.

“Yes,”

“Then what?”

“I just . . . don’t want to wake you,”

“Well, I’m already awake if that makes you feel better,” you jeered, a small smile forming on your lips.

“It doesn’t,”

“Nothing does,” you retorted, the inevitable annoyance you always felt when conversing with him already made its way up into your tone.

He scoffed and stood from the bed, placing himself in the same spot on the floor with his head leaned up against the wall and his arm resting on his perched knee.

“Oh, so now you can’t handle a little attitude,” your tone came out incredulous, “You didn’t have any issues earlier when you blamed me for that guy’s escape. Which, he didn’t even get to do, might I add,”

“I was projecting,” he replied, gaze still focused on the door opposite to him.

You blinked, “Are you so tired that you’re actually admitting to being a dick?”

“I know I can be a dick, but you threw yourself straight into the line of fire twice today. So I don’t really give a shit if I was mean to you,”

“I only did that because you almost got shot twice today. Don’t take your anger out on me for your incompetence. Just say ‘thank you’ and move on already,”

“Incompetence?” His head jerked in your direction. “What was incompetent was that you couldn’t keep yourself composed,”

You sat up. “What in the hell are you talking about? My behavior is what got our target to basically give himself up to us! It was me that trapped him, not you!” His composure tensed and you crossed your arms over your chest, “You’re just mad your dick got hard so if anything you’re the one who couldn’t keep their compos-” His hand was wrapped around your throat and you were pinned to the mattress before you could finish your sentence.

“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed at you, his face mere inches from yours.

“Why?” You spoke hoarsely around his tightening grip, “Does the Big Bad Wolf not like that he was turned on? Who’s the prude now?”

“Turned on?” He spat, his free hand resting by your head to cage you in, “You think what you did earlier turned me on?”

You grasped at the hand around your throat and pried slightly to speak, “Fight me or fuck me, Barnes. But stop lying to yourself, it’s getting old,”

The room seemed to freeze over and Bucky paused. His hesitation was enough to elicit the fire from earlier and your legs squirmed a little underneath him. God, you hoped he chose the latter.

Then his lips crashed against yours.

You squeaked at the sudden onslaught but threw your arms around his shoulders and pulled him in tighter against you. He dropped when you intertwined your legs, his full weight pressing against you deliciously. You ground up against him, your core aching from the previous hours and the small friction elicited a moan from the both of you.

“So impatient,” he scolded, bringing the hand from around your throat down to your hips and pressing you into the bed. “What a whore,”

His breath danced along your cheek and you mewled at his words. Gods, he was going to be the death of you. Or the beginning.

You breathed in deeply, his sandalwood scent intoxicating you in a manner that alcohol never could. When you drank, you were just drunk. But when you took a sip from the tall glass that was Bucky, it brought you to life. Your body sang melodies wherever you were plastered against each other and your skin burned with need.

Touch me, your body screamed, touch me.

“Fuck off,” you groaned and Bucky jerked your head to the side, exposing your neck for him to scavenge.

The goosebumps that danced across your skin when he ran his warm tongue up from the curve of your neck to the bottom of your ear brought an arrogant smirk onto Bucky’s face. You ran your fingers through his hair and tugged when he reached a particularly sensitive spot that had your legs shaking when he kissed it sloppily.

Your mouth hung open in silent pleasure and your breaths were short and rapid, your body betraying all forms of control you previously had over yourself. The hand that wasn’t residing in his hair trailed down his muscled arm and you gripped at the brawn this man possessed. His skin reminisced lightly of silk despite the rough texture of his hands.

The same hands that now made its way into your hair and tugged at the strands at the base of your neck, jolting your chin higher into the air. Your grip tightened around his biceps and the strength they emitted sent a pool rushing to your core. You continued hunting until you found the hem of his black, cotton shirt and you made your way up his taut abdomen. You let out a sigh and he jumped lightly at the sensation of your cool fingertips across his scorching skin. It was a nice contrast for him.

You gripped at the shirt and hastily ripped the cotton upward. Bucky broke away from his descent down to your chest to let you remove the fabric and you’d suddenly wished you’d turned the lights on first. He mimicked your action and tossed your shirt in a deserted corner of the room to potentially be abandoned. You gasped when the cold air of the room grazed upon the perked mounds of your breasts.

His lips returned to their spot on the dip of your neck and his tongue slithered down in between your breasts. Your breath hitched when his wet muscle made its way up to the apex of your chest. His right hand mirrored his tongue and swirled around your nipple, his teeth pulling eagerly every so often and you hissed at the delectable pain. Your eyes devoured the scene unfolding on your chest and you reached over to flick the light on, desperate for a clearer image.

Bucky halted and his metal arm reached over to switch the light back off but you swatted his hand away and he backed up lightly, his irritation evident on his face.

“I want to watch,” you grumbled and shifted up to bring your lips back up to his. He let you. He pushed back lightly with his own lips and leaned in sync with your movements. He parted his mouth slightly and you followed suit, letting him lead his way into yours with the same muscle he’d just had flicking across your breasts.

The light went off.

You pushed him away and shot towards the switch but metal met your wrist firmly enough to keep you in place. “Bucky.” You wrestled against his hold and turned your full attention back to the figure hovering above, “I want to see you,”

Despite the darkness, you noticed his mouth twitch but his grip on your wrist remained solid. You sprawled back onto the bed and wrapped your free hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down onto you, pressing his surprisingly soft lips onto yours. You broke apart, his lips a hair’s breadth away from your own. “I want to see you,”

He didn’t move, only scanned your face over a few times and you brought him back down into a kiss. This one wasn’t like before. This one was warm, soft, patient. A ballet compared to its previous mosh pit. He danced along with you, an admission hidden somewhere in his tenderness.

You hadn’t realized you’d been freed of his hold until you were wrapping that arm over his shoulder and the sound of a light humming began.

“Fucker,” you jeered and the previous gentleness dissipated.

“Shut up,” he ordered, pinning you back onto the bed and resumed his ministration on your breasts.

The moan slipped past your lips at the sight and your chest heaved upwards, desperate for more stimulation. You licked your lips at how his mouth encased your nipple, his tongue flicking against the perked skin and you dropped your head back, shutting your eyes. You centered all of your attention anywhere that his bare skin touched your body and rubbed your aching clit against his v-line.

Your chest was pressed against the mattress before you could register what happened and the hard smack that met your ass evoked a yelp. Bucky pressed fully against your backside and he ground his dick down into your ass. He groaned at the sensation and you raised your ass onto him. You yelped again when Bucky ripped your leggings down and smacked the exposed skin on your ass.

“Try something like that again and I’ll gag you around my cock ‘til you’re crying,” he growled, “Understood?”

You nodded, wide-eyed and a mewling mess from the threatening promise of this God.

“Good girl,” he cooed, rubbing at the raw skin. “Now stay still for Daddy,”

Bucky’s hand lingered on your reddening ass and the mattress dipped when he shifted to your side. He traced gentle circles onto your backside and pressed his lips on your shoulder blade, the butterfly kisses making their way down towards your spine and then lower. Your breathing grew uneven from the sheer amount of restraint you displayed. Your grip on the edge of the bed tightened when his tongue dragged from the point where your thigh and ass met all the way up to the bottom of your spine.

“Fuck,” You shuddered, white-knuckling the blanket beneath you.

Your skin blazed when you were met with another harsh slap. You mewled at the sensation, loving the fire that spread across your flesh and relaxed when his metal hand cooled the area.

Then his teeth bit into the cooling flesh and you jerked away despite yourself. Bucky tsked lowly and you chuckled at the hint of fear sprouting in your chest; you did not want to see whatever sinister expression resided on his face.

A strong hand gripped the roots of your hair and hauled you up. You followed his direction and knelt onto the ground between Bucky’s sprawled out legs, settling in your new position.

“Oh, Doll,” he chastised, “you were so close,”

“That shouldn’t count,” you retorted while Bucky pulled the blanket off the bed and lifted you up with his metal arm, shoving the barrier between your knees and the hard ground.

“But it does.” His hands dove into his underwear and sprung his cock out onto your lips. “Now get to work,”

Your eyes widened at the sight before you and you had to physically hold back from gulping. You were ashamed to admit your mouth watered in anticipation. You lifted your hands from his sculpted thighs and wrapped them around his length, enveloping just the tip past your parted lips. Bucky sighed and twitched in your mouth.

You welcomed him in fully, or as much as you could anyway, and got straight to work, not bothering to act abashed at your desire. Your tongue swirled around his tip and you leaned into him until he hit the back of your mouth but you continued on, gagging around him when he’d gotten inside your throat. Bucky groaned when your throat tightened around him and he threw his head back, using his flesh hand to guide you up and down his shaft, showing you what he liked and didn’t.

“Fuck, Doll,” he groaned, “Just how I imagined your mouth would feel,”

You pulled off him to comment when he shoved you all the way down to the hilt and you threw your hands up onto his thighs to hold yourself back. He used his metal arm to hold himself up and thrusted up into your salivating mouth desperately. He continuously hit the back of your throat and thick saliva coated his cock. Just as he promised, tears prickled at the corners of your eyes and he didn’t stop until your cheeks were drenched in the liquid.

You let your jaw hang open, your tongue no longer swiveling around meticulous spots that you knew would make his legs buckle. No, you let him have the reigns. Let him fuck your mouth ‘til your throat grew bruised and jaw ached with fatigue. You committed his cries of pleasure to memory, the sounds euphoric to your ears.

He lifted his head and stared down at you with half-closed eyes. He was in heaven and you knew it. He watched you, how the tears trailed down, how your hands gripped at his thighs, how you stuck out your tongue just as you’d made it to the base of his cock to lick his balls in the most intoxicating way. Fuck. You were the intoxicating one. You brought out this side of him. This carnal desire that became him until he’d had to step out of the room just to compose himself. And he didn’t like being out of control. That’s why he always kept you at an arm’s distance.

But now, watching as you sat between him with your mouth agape like the good girl that you were for him, he knew he’d never deny himself this pleasure again. Especially since you were so fucking good at it.

He groaned, pulling you off his cock and grabbed tightly at your cheeks, nearly pinching your mouth together. “Tongue out.” He growled, waiting for your compliance.

Your jaw ached with exhaustion but you managed to stick out the wet muscle as he pulled you closer into him and watched when he parted his lips above you, letting the saliva trail down from his mouth into yours.

“Swallow,” he ordered.

But it was already done, and you left your mouth hanging open for more.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Bucky grumbled, putting his face right up against yours and feeding you once again; this time with a sloppy kiss that coated both your mouths in saliva.

He brought you up from the floor and tossed you onto the bed before settling between your legs. The excitement in your eyes grew and he indulged in every minute of it. Bucky’s hand trailed down from your lower abdomen right above your pubic bone and pressed his palm into your neglected clit. The cry you let out was the unholiest thing he’d ever heard.

He slid his finger under the waistband of your underwear and flitted his gaze back up to your eyes, “Can I?”

You nodded eagerly, dumbfounded that he would even ask and fought the temptation to grab your phone from the nightstand and record everything that was about to unfold.

At the first nod, Bucky slid your underwear down your legs and made a show of bringing the material up to his face. Your own went red hot and you hid behind your hands, poking through every millisecond to shamefully watch. He threw the panties into his open duffel and you squirmed in anticipation.

“Remember the rules?” Bucky asked, brow lifted and already descending to your inner thigh.

You nodded again.

“I need to hear it, Doll,” he mumbled, kissing the inner part of your thigh, each placement closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“Yes,” you whimpered out, “I remember the rules,”

Bucky wanted to dive right in, he really did, but the way you sprawled yourself out so vulnerable for him, it incited a new pace that he wanted to follow. So, he did. He looked at you for a few moments, watched how the anticipation danced in your eyes, how your legs shook in wait and how you were already so goddamn wet for him.

“This all for me?” he teased, mesmerized at your desire for him.

You dropped a hand down to your side, near where his hands were wrapped around your thighs to keep you in place - and against his face. He cocked his head to the side, waiting for your answer.

You nodded sheepishly and when he lifted an eyebrow in mock confusion you said, “You. Just you,”

Like music to his ears. Just him. You weren’t for anyone else. He thought he felt his heart palpitate.

He lowered himself down to your core and kissed your lip, drawing a desperate plea from you. You couldn’t wait anymore, couldn’t deal with the teasing. You were wet enough, needy enough, ready enough to take him, all of him. You’d been ready damn near the moment you first laid eyes on his arrogant smirk.

“Buck - please,” you cried, drawling out the final word.

The first kiss placed upon your soaked cunt erupted a sigh of relief and you laid back on the pillow, your eyes closed and mind gone with the sensation of those sloppy kisses blessing your needs. He flattened his tongue on your lips and licked upwards, stopping when your hips twitched into his mouth.

“Sorry!” You apologized, fighting the desire to grind into his wet muscle. He’d just gotten started and you certainly didn’t want it to end so soon.

He lifted his gaze up to you and you bit into your fist at the view, using the extremity to hold back your moans. He flicked his attention down again and repeated his motion, lapping at your fluids ‘til his beard was soaked in it. He shook his head into your cunt and his nose rubbed along your clit. The mewling that left your mouth urged him on and when you felt his muscle prodding at your entrance you threw your head back.

“Please, Bucky.” You begged, bringing a hand up to tease your nipple.

He prodded some more, his tongue gliding up from your clit and back down to your entrance, poking through enough to frustrate you. He wanted you to break for him. To lose all composure and control and just let him. He wanted you to submit to him but it wasn’t just that, it was more that he wanted to destroy you for any future experience you may have without him. He wanted you to come back to him, to need him, to beg for him and leave you with the understanding that nothing - no one - could compare to him. He wanted you. To himself.

So, when he could no longer refrain and had to use his metal arm to hold your hips down from squirming beneath him, he slipped two thick, rough fingers into your begging cunt. And the sound you emitted caused that carnal instinct to claw at the barriers caging it in.

Your hand shot down, tangling itself into his hair and pushing him harder against you. He allowed it. Your thighs held him in place, crushing him with your soft skin and he groaned at the warmth you gave off. You pulled your hand away from your mouth and grabbed at his metal one resting on your pubic bone, pulling it up to your chest and wrapping his fingers on the sensitive bud for him to tease. He slowly retracted from your chest and brought it back down onto your hips and you huffed in annoyance. You looked down at Bucky but his eyes were shut, completely engrossed in the feast before him. You bucked when his fingers glazed across that sensitive spot inside your velvety walls.

“There!” You cried, your fist tightening in his hair when the all-too-familiar wave of ecstasy began to pool together, waiting for its release.

Bucky complied, dragging the pads of his fingers up against that spot over and over again. Your legs caged him in tighter as his tongue swirled over the hyper-sensitive bundle of nerves and you cried out at the way your body tensed.

“Fuck,” you cried, your hands desperately grasping onto Bucky’s metal wrist and tugging at the roots of his hair. Bucky’s groan of pleasure was what tipped you over the edge.

You gasped when the pool building released, your body shaking with euphoria and the flood crashed down onto you. And apparently, onto Bucky as well. He pulled his mouth away but continued rubbing at your clit when warm liquid squirted onto his face and his expression of surprise mirrored your own.

When Bucky looked up at you, your face burned with embarrassment and you threw your head back, using your hand to cover your countenance. Not to mention the sight of him with your juices all over his mouth was one of the hottest things you’d ever witnessed.

Bucky chuckled at your sheepish apology and removed your hand from your face, bringing his soaked mouth up to yours and having you taste yourself. You devoured each other, your arms wrapped tightly around the other, pulling so fiercely at the innate desire to become one in shared pleasure. He could feel his pride swell at your hidden confession. You’d never squirted before and he was lucky enough to be the one to give you that experience for the first time.

You clawed at him, divulging in the warmth his body radiated and intoxicating yourself in everything that was Bucky. You couldn’t get enough of it, of him. It was nearly too much.

His hand trailed up to your gaping mouth and he inserted his fingers, “Clean them,” he ordered.

Your hand gripped his wrist and pulled his fingers deeper into your mouth, never breaking eye contact with him, loving the way he ate up everything he was seeing. You noticed the way he swallowed.

He retracted his hand and wrapped it gently behind your head so you were resting on him. He brought his full weight down onto your body and a warmth emanated in your chest when he brought his lips up against your forehead, each kiss closer and closer to your lips until they met their destination. When you parted your mouth against his, it wasn’t merely an action of carnal desire, it was like you were exchanging life forces. Merging and meeting in a manner that had your body exploding and crying out for more of the faint familiarity. Like seeing an old friend for the first time in years.

Bucky looked down between your bodies at where you were about to connect before staring back up at you, taking you in as if he would never have this opportunity again. His thumb brushed your cheek and came to a rest on your bottom lip. “Ready?”

You chuckled, “Fuck me,”

He shoved inside in one clean motion and a breath of pleasure slid past both of your lips.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hand tightening slightly around your neck and he pulled out slowly then shot back inside and you moaned.

You were still so sensitive from your previous climax that every brush against your clit sent you into a whirlwind of pleasure, the sensations shooting through every nerve in your body.

“Bucky,” you whined when his pace quickened and the sheer force of his thrusts drove you deeper into euphoria.

He filled you just right, his girth and length impressive and you wondered why you hadn’t tried to screw him earlier. He slid past your tight walls, each thrust causing the room to echo with the sounds of skin slapping and moans of ecstasy.

He kept his actions controlled, not wanting to build up to something so intense just for it to fall short and end fast. No. Despite how good you felt wrapped around his aching and swollen cock, despite how warm and welcoming you were, how you spread yourself out for him to consume, he had to leash himself. This was going to be just as good for you as it was for him.

He kissed you one last time before gripping the back of your knees and bringing your thighs up to your chest, a shout of praise falling off your lips. He was drunk on the sight of his cock going in and out of your cunt and he threw his head back with a groan.

“What a fucking pretty pussy,” he breathed out and you whimpered, biting your lip at the welcome profanities.

At this angle, he was fucking against your g-spot and using his pubic bone to rub against your clit and watching the thin layer of sweat sheen off his skin was all too much to keep yourself put together. His eyebrows scrunched together and you caught him taking in your form, watching how your pleasure displayed itself on your face for him to bear witness to. Only him.

He growled at the intrusion of thoughts that came to him. He pictured someone else in his position, someone else witnessing you so vulnerable and open to them, someone else fucking you and making you beg for them. It disgusted him. He brought his torso down and latched his teeth to your neck, biting down hard enough to have you tearing up.

“Mine,” he growled into your ear and lulled his head forward when you tightened around him.

A sinister smirk came to his face and he licked the shell of your ear, your breathy moans feeding him, “You like that?” He asked, pistoling further into your cunt and you shouted at the increase of pace, “You like when I tell you who you belong to?”

Your mouth hung agape and the one arm wrapped around his shoulder pulled him closer to you, your desperation for his warmth taking control. “Fuck . . . off,” you hissed between breaths.

He pulled out and yanked you up by your hair, twisting you around and pressing your torso into the wall but keeping your ass propped up for him to admire. You hissed at the pain when a sharp smack met your ass and your hands gripped at the wall for any way to ground yourself and prevent from becoming putty in his hands.

Another hard smack met your ass and you lurched forward to get away from the sting. Bucky kept your head pinned to the cement, his hand holding your cheek from scraping the wall but applying a pressure that had your tongue lolling out of your mouth.

You moaned at the intrusion in your pussy and he plummeted in and out, a mix of your grunts and groans bouncing around the room. His pace constantly changed. One second it was fast, the next it was slow but filling, going so far as to hit your cervix a few times and leave you a crying mess under his hold. Your shoulder scraped along the wall and you fought to push away only to have your chest slammed harder against the cement.

You brought a hand out, reaching behind yourself and grasping for Bucky’s hip, pushing him deeper into you when he slowed. Your nails dug into his flesh and the sound of his hiss shot straight to your core.

“What a goddamn whore,” he spat, bringing his teeth down onto your neck and you gripped at his hair.

You laughed at his statement, “You’re the one that can’t get enough of this pussy. Why so desperate to claim it? Afraid I'll fuck someone else?” Bucky pulled you back and slammed you against the wall with vigor, causing you to flinch

He stopped his thrusts altogether, “My patience only goes so far, Doll,” he threatened, tugging at your hair and you bit back a cry, “Choose your words wisely,”

You nodded hastily, the rough texture of the wall digging into your cheek and splitting skin. You wriggled up against him to continue moving but he retracted completely and flipped you over so he was laying on the bed and you were straddling him.

“Move,” he ordered, his hands digging bruises into your waist.

You leaned over, pressing your chest against his to lift your hips up and down on him but he pushed you back up and held your arms behind your back to keep you in place. You whimpered but the cry quieted when you rubbed your clit against him and your pussy clenched at the friction. You moaned out a breathy fuck and swiveled your hips around his, noting how much deeper he filled you in this position.

“Buck-” you huffed, eyes glued to the glistening abs beneath you. “I’m gonna cum,”

“Already?” He jeered, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

You’d lost all energy to sneer at him, your focus solely on how the sensation grew and began pooling in your cunt. “Cock . . . so good,” you breathed out, barely able to keep yourself from melting into him.

“What was that, Doll?” He stilled your movements and you groaned in annoyance.

You wriggled in his hold and you could tell by the furrow of his brow that he was fighting to keep control as well. You leaned over him, your lips hovering over his, “Mine,”

His grip flew to the back of your neck and he crashed your lips onto his, giving you full reign again. You bounced your hips on his dick, slamming down vigorously and rubbing your clit in effect. It didn’t take long for your climax to build again.

“’M gonna . . .” you whispered and Bucky placed you back up, gripping your hips and swiveling you around how you were earlier.

“Cum, Doll,” he allowed, “Cum all over this cock,”

You cried out, your toes curling as the dam in your core snapped and your climax washed over you. You hadn’t realized your fingers were intertwined with Bucky's until you came back down from your high, your chest heaving for breath.

He sat up slowly and pressed his lips against your neck. “You’re beautiful,”

Your body tensed at his words and you pulled away to give him a look of confusion. But he didn’t take his statement back, only slipped his hands around your back and gently placed you onto the bed, hovering over you.

He moved with caution, like his gentleness might scare you off if he touched you too tenderly or stared too long in admiration. But he couldn’t help it, he did admire you.

He spread your legs open and nestled between them, pushing into you slowly until your hips met and you both breathed out. His movements weren’t nearly as brutal as they were earlier, these thrusts were slow and deep and full of intention. He brought his torso down onto yours and you wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him closer to you.

He ran his hand, the only one he allowed himself to touch you affectionately with, through your hair and stared down at you, waiting. His gaze shifted between your lips to your eyes and he ran his thumb delicately along your mouth.

You looked at him then, really looked at him with fresh eyes and your heart leapt into your throat at the realization. “Kiss me,” you whispered and he lowered himself onto your lips, setting off an explosion in your chest.

“I’m yours,” he whispered, not able to bring himself to look at you, “I’ve been yours,”

You opened your mouth to respond but he silenced you with a deep thrust and a moan erupted instead. He quickened his pace, watching where you connected and pushed deeper and harder, your cries of pleasure driving him. He had to fuck you, he couldn’t love you, he couldn’t make love to you, just fuck. That’s it. He couldn’t allow himself to replay your look of shock at his confession, though the scene would surely be on loop for the next few days until he could get over it. Just fuck. Nothing more. Not with that look of disbelief on your face.

He held himself up with his forearms but you pressed him against you and wrapped your legs tighter around him. “Harder,” you whispered and he complied.

He groaned when your tits bounced and brought his mouth to a nipple, the faint taste of sweat lingering on your skin. You brought his metal hand up to your chest and made him grip the flesh there but he pulled it back and placed it beside your head instead.

“Bucky,” you whimpered and grabbed his hand again, bringing his open palm up to your lips and placing delicate kisses on the metal. “You can feel with it, right?”

He nodded, hesitance sprawled on his face.

“Then touch me,” you urged, bringing the hand down between your bodies and pressing the cold metal against your clit, “Feel me,”

His brows furrowed slightly but the look of your certainty forced him to dismiss his own perceptions of his body; or rather, that arm. And when he began rubbing circles into your bundle of nerves the expression on your face made him hate it a little less. Only a little.

You stared up at him, his pace growing erratic and sloppy and you knew he was close. “You wanna cum?”

He nodded, his hot breath coming out haggard and strained. You placed your hand on his cheek and brought him up to your kiss.

“Then cum,”

He shook his head, “You first,” he swirled his finger around your swollen clit and you gasped at the force of his thrust.

Your body tensed and you centered all your focus on his ministrations, “A little more pressure,” you directed and he quickly found a pressure that had you wobbling in the knees. “Close,” you murmured, gripping Bucky’s side and bringing your lips up to his neck to pepper the skin there.

He groaned and judging by the way his dick twitched inside you, you knew he wasn’t far behind.

“Bucky,” you whispered, pulling his attention towards you and his gaze brought you closer to the edge, “I’m yours,”

He blinked and his pace faltered for half a beat. He examined your facial expression, like he didn’t believe the words you’d spoken. Not like he couldn’t believe them, but like you’d said them just to appease him.

You placed your forehead against his, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath to center yourself in the haze of this fucking. “Yours,” you repeated, all the emotion residing in your chest poured into the singular word.

And then he was back to drilling you into the mattress, a new vigor fueling his thrusts. You cried out and Bucky pressed his sweaty torso flat against your own and it felt like the essence, the being, in your chest intermingled with his own and all the climaxes you’d previously experienced couldn’t hold a match to the flame, the intensity, the rawness of the one that washed over the both of you in that moment.

Bucky moaned out, his hips bucking into yours and you rode out both of your highs. The sensation consuming and overwhelming and welcome on both ends as it flooded through your bodies, meeting at your point of contact.

His arms flexed above you with the ferocity of his climax and the display had you writhing beneath him, already desperate for more.

“Buck,” you whispered when his breathing evened out after he collapsed onto you.

He didn’t respond, afraid it had all been a dream, a trick, despite still being inside you. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to shatter the perfection of this moment. What if you’d only said that to get him to finish faster? What if you’d only fed him what he wanted to hear? What if-

“Buck,” you repeated, pulling him from his daze and he lifted his head only slightly. You gripped his chin lightly and forced him to look you in the eye. “You’re . . . mine?”

He wanted to shake his head, to tell you that he got caught up in the moment but instead he said, “Yours,” because he knew anything else would be a lie and he was tired of lying.

You studied him and nodded, “Yours,” you stated, already rolling your eyes from the smirk forming on his face, “Unfortunately,”

He brought your face to his and planted a tender kiss on your lips. He started shifting his position and grabbed the underwear he’d been wearing earlier before pulling out and using the cloth to clean the mess pooling out of you. But not before taking a mental picture, of course.

After a few minutes of laying together, his hand playing with a few strands of hair, you felt the warm welcome of sleep beginning to drag you into its embrace. You opened your eyes groggily and looked up at Bucky who was already looking down at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I know about your night terrors,” you whispered and his actions halted momentarily before returning to brush through your hair, “I hear you sometimes. And I understand why you don’t want to go to sleep but,” you sat up slowly and placed the thick blanket down on the floor, dragging the pillow down with you and patting the open space beside you, “you should rest. I’ll be here to calm you or stay up with you. Whichever one you need,”

He didn’t move at first, his ears drowning out any thought he could have while processing what you’d said. He’d stayed silent so long you’d thought you’d crossed a line.

“I can always sleep on the bed if you’d prefer, though,”

Bucky shook himself from his thoughts and edged closer to the floor, slowly descending into the available space and wrapping the blanket around the both of you as much as he could. “No,” he said, “I want you here,”

You hummed in response and snuggled into his waiting arms, lightly wrapping your own around him, making sure to kiss the part of himself he hated the most before fatigue swept you up into its clutches. Bucky followed soon after.

6K notes · View notes

sukirichi · 3 years

Text

black magic [01]

REQUEST. arranged marriage + enemies to lovers (sukuna is a simp and lowkey a housewife)

CONTENT/WARNINGS. some suggestive scenes, but overall fluff and romance! slight crack fic, I guess? I was laughing when I wrote this lol

NOTES. I NEED A HUSBAND! SUKUNA I’M GOING TO CRY GOODBYE THIS HAS ME SOFT. also anon i’m not sure if you wanted something with more ~sexual tension~ since this is kind of just comedic, but I hope you like it anyway!

part one | part two (nsfw)

“This is new,” you comment with a glare, your ankle propped on Sukuna’s knee.

“Shut up,” he rolls his eyes, pushing your skirt aside to clean the wounds you attained through exorcising curses. You’ve taken a particularly strong curse today and you’re caught off guard, barely finishing the mission unscathed. Limping all the way back home isn’t easy especially since you live on top of the darned mountain, but if Sukuna’s going to kneel in front of you like this...maybe it wasn’t too tough a journey. “You should stop going to missions you’re not ready for. Look at you, all wounded and bloody.”

“You sound like you care.”

“You’re my wife,” he huffs while dropping the bloody towel on the floor. Sukuna wraps the bandage around your ankle and carries you bridal style even though you’re perfectly capable of walking, but he shoots you a silencing glare. You’d have knocked him in the face any other day, but he’s particularly warm and smells nice today – plus you’re beat – that you bury your face in his chest, ignoring that stupid fluttering in your stomach. “Of course I do.”

You snicker, mind tracing back to your earlier years of this dreaded marriage.

It definitely wasn’t the best – the memories blurring between strangling each other to making out as if breathing was never a thing – and it felt like forever ago when you first met him.

You’d never say it out loud, but... you don’t regret this arranged marriage. Not when Sukuna is tucking himself beside you on the bed, your head above his muscular chest a place similar to home. He covers both your bodies over with a blanket, pulling your body closer to him with a strong arm, his lips pressing onto the crown of your head.

Ugh, you think to yourself, giving in to the need to cuddle your husband after a long day of work. You still refuse to say it out loud, though, and you irk him further by muttering, “That’s not what you said two years ago.”

“I wasn’t in love with you then.”

“I refuse to be married to you!”

Sukuna fights back the urge to cover his ears. Ever since your clan decided to visit his land and started exorcising curses one by one, his life has been nothing but hell. Not only are your relatives the most arrogant people ever with a consistent god complex, they just had to let their little mortal child be in charge of taking on the stronger curses. Seriously, what were they thinking, sending you – who’s barely even out of their training bra years – to deal with curses like him?

Everyone knows Sukuna is a no bullshit man. He won’t hesitate to cut your head off the moment you came raging at him, but then he sees how young you are and decides to send you back to your family.

Expecting that everyone would just call it a day and he’d get offerings for his unexpected mercy, Sukuna is beyond stupefied when they send you back to his temple, all dressed pretty with a basket of fruits and flowers braided in your hair. He remembers growling because you look adorable, but that’s easily wiped away when you open your mouth, your voice scratchy against his ears as you stomp your feet like the young mortal you are.

Sukuna pushes a thumb to his forehead to ease the impending headache, and that’s just from your presence. Something inside him tells that you’re going to be a bigger pain than you look.

“You don’t have much of a choice. You should’ve thought of that before deciding to run rampage over my land,” he reminds, turning boredly to his lone servant from above his throne. Sukuna isn’t impressed, to say the least, especially with your clan’s audacious proposition to gain his favour just this once. “Is this really the woman you bring me – the one they insist to be my wife?”

“She is their best fighter, my Lord.”

Well, he can’t disagree to that. You did, after all, single-handedly give him a cut on the cheek. “She’s feisty indeed.”

“Don’t talk as if I’m not here!”

“Mouthy too,” he mumbles to himself, but your sorcerer senses are sharp and easily picks up on it. He sees you flush angry again, looking immensely adorable with your tiny fists clenched like that and he snorts, waving a hand in the air. “Whatever. Get the wedding over with,” he nods to his servant, his sigh loud and tired as he makes his way to you.

You don’t stiffen at each haunting step, his eyes only glimmering harder with entertainment. It’s rare to find a mortal that doesn’t quiver at the sight of him, the urge to break you only growing stronger.

Even as he cups your face, making sure to not let his claws dig into your precious skin, Sukuna smirks. You’ll be entertaining indeed.

So Sukuna makes a promise, four eyes surveying the way your body is starting to fill in curves at the right places, the swell of your flesh just perfect in his hands... He chuckles to himself, daunting you further as he leans down to your ear, taking pleasure in the slight way your breath hitches. “Maybe then I’ll get to teach you a lesson or two.”

You’re definitely something else, taking advantage of each presented opportunity and not wasting any time before you make your move. Right after the wedding and everyone’s left, leaving you alone with your new husband behind closed doors; you push him until he’s on the ground, legs straddling each side of his hips while you growl above him – the sound similar to a battle cry.

Sukuna merely smirks, barely moving a muscle as his large hands come up to rest on your hips to steady you. “I’ve imagined countless ways you’d be on top of me like this,” his eyes light up with humour upon feeling the cold blade on his skin, “None of them included a knife on my neck though.”

“Shut your mouth. I will kill you myself,” you warn, pressing your knife harder until it draws a slight tinge of blood.

You hardly look threatening above him like this, dolled up to look the best in your wedding with this cursed being. If anything, you look more divine than deadly, and Sukuna thinks that perhaps your beauty could be your best weapon. You are bewitching, after all.

“I refuse to be your Queen and sit next to your throne.”

“Then why didn’t you stop the wedding?”

“I—”

Sukuna’s teasing grin grows wider when you pull back, trying so hard to not trip over your words. It takes all of his self-restraint to not take you right then and there, but he does a good job of holding back, enjoying this view above him instead. “Could it be you’re attracted to me after all, hm, little one?”

“Do not test me, Curse. I’m more than capable of exorcising you myself.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. You’re the strongest in the Gojo clan, are you not?” he prompts to appease you, “I don’t even want to see what you’re capable of, but maybe, just maybe...” just as his eyes darken, the edges of his lips turning up into a smirk, Sukuna digs his claws into your thigh in a possessive show of ownership, a painful reminder that you’re his now. “...You could put on a little show for me?”

“I hate you!”

Experienced and strong as you are, you’re nothing compared to a thousand year old curse who’s killed a lot more people faster than you could blink. Sukuna immediately notices the animalistic way you draw your blade, arm swung back with rage written all over your face. Before you could so much as bat an eye, he easily switches the positions until you’re under him, using only one hand to pin your arms above your head, your blade effortlessly thrown to the other side of the room.

“As I thought, you’re a lot prettier under me like this,” he observes, roaming his eyes shamelessly over the fabric clinging prettily to your body. You’ve fallen silent at his unconcealed attention, your compliance enticing him to lean closer just to inhale your intoxicating scent.

“Not so feisty now, little one? Where’d all your hatred for me go?” Sukuna pulls back with widened eyes, “Oh? Am I hearing it wrong or is your pathetic human heart beating so loud right now?” You refuse to look at him, wriggling your hips in an attempt to leave, completely unaware that the mere movement is hypnotizing the curse above you. Sukuna grips your hips in warning, not wanting to destroy you – not now, anyway. “You know all you need to do is say it. I’d gladly take you right here and then.” His words spoken with that deep, throaty voice immediately sends a wave of heat down your core, but you turn away from him, breathing hard and nervously; something Sukuna picks up on in an instant. “Little one...have you never had a man hold you like this before?”

“N-no...”

“I see. Pure and innocent behind that ferocity, huh?” He surprises you by pulling away, smoothening his white robes down as he leaves you panting still on the floor. “Fine. I won’t touch you unless you ask me to.”

“I’d rather die before that ever comes out from my mouth.”

“We’ll see about that,” he smirks, winking at you before he shuts the door. “Little one.”

There’s a lot of weird – and utterly inconvenient things – about being Sukuna’s wife. The man eats everything, absolutely everything, and it doesn’t help that he sucks at hunting too. For a man so huge and burly, he sure is lazy, preferring to do the laundry in the riverside instead while you go out every day to prepare your meals.

You actually don’t mind, but it’s very fun to complain around him.

You’re on your way back to the temple when Sukuna grabs at you, making you drop the freshly caught birds onto the ground. Your brows furrow, about to scold him for being too eager again when Sukuna stares at your arm, his lips pressing into a thin line.

Following his line of sight, your lips form an ‘o’ shape. There’s blood trickling down your forearm from his claws accidentally cutting you, guilt written all over his face. Another weird thing about Sukuna is that he babbles a lot when he’s emotional, and you’re too tired to hear him beat himself over it that you just drag him inside your room, sitting his ass down before taking a clipper.

Sukuna scoffs when you start cutting his nails. It irks him that you don’t even bother wiping the blood off first and he tsks, eyes narrowed at you. “You should have thicker skin.”

You roll your eyes as you file his nails; you’ve been married to him long enough to know it’s his way of saying sorry. Not wanting to let him wallow in guilt any louder, you pad kisses over his knuckles before swiping the black ink off your desk, using a pen brush to colour your nails instead. Sukuna hovers behind you, head tilted to the side as he watched you. “Are you painting your nails black?” he utters in disbelief, trying to ignore the fact he feels...proud and even a little smug. “Not so fitting for the angelic sorcerer now, isn’t it?”

“I’m only doing this so you don’t feel left out.”

“Maybe I’ll add markings to your pretty face too,” he cups your jaw to make you turn to him, landing a solid kiss flat to your lips which makes you sigh, pretending to be annoyed but leaning over for another peck anyway. Sukuna laughs and pulls you onto his lap, kissing your neck this time around, a little annoyed that you don’t stop in brandishing your nails. “Wife, what do you think?”

“I have work, Sukuna. You flirting with me doesn’t change the fact I need to go.”

“Come home safe for me, at least?” he breathes down your neck, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You’ve definitely changed since the first time he’s met you, starting from a mean (although he stands strong that you are still mean to him sometimes) temperamental little one to a mature, stronger sorcerer who’s secretly weak for his wife.

Unable to resist him as always, you turn around once you’ve finished painting your nails, rubbing your nose over his until your strong, scary husband is turning into putty at your hands. “Of course I will,” you peck his lips one last time, Sukuna’s eyes closing as he dives in for a deeper kiss. “I’ll always come back home to my handsome husband.”

If anyone were to ask how it’s possible that the King of Curses is actually very soft for his sorcerer wife, everyone would claim it’s impossible and a heresy – but if you ask Sukuna, it’s probably just black magic doing its wonders.

8K notes · View notes

rafescoke · 3 years

Note

i’m sooo obsessed with your entire page holy moly. if you’re taking requests can i get kinda an angst one where the reader is with jj and finds out him and kie have been doing stuff behind her back, and the rest of the group knew the whole time? so she ends up getting close to rafe and hanging out with his friends so it eventually ends up with rafe x reader??? sorry that’s so long lol pls never stop writing, i love your fics too much <3

All I Ask ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

#Part 1

#Part 2

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader x JJ Maybank

Summary: Reader finds herself in the arms of her best friend’s brother after finding her boyfriend cheating on her

Warnings: Cheating, substance, mentions of sex, jealous Rafe, JJ & Kie being an asshole

A/N: Thank you so much for the amount of love I received from my last two works! It has been so overwhelming and I love each one of you with all my heart <3

p.s, my request box is always open! Send random ideas and I’ll turn them into a fic <33

p.p.s, so sorry if this isn’t my best work :(

“Come on, (Y/N), don’t be a party pooper!”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes as she pulled her best friend aside from all the commotion, “Sarah. I’m serious. I feel like he’s cheating on me.”

“He’s not!” Sarah groaned, and when (Y/N) gave her a look, she sighed. “I’m serious. He loves you too much, okay? Look, tomorrow’s your birthday, right? I’m sure JJ’s just ignoring you as a part of your birthday surprise.”

(Y/N) wanted to believe her so bad, but she couldn’t deny the strong feeling growing inside her. Ever since a month ago, JJ wasn’t there for her like always. When she tried to hold him in the van or at the Chateau, he would flinch and scoot away from her. She didn’t know what to do anymore.

“Look-” Sarah cupped her face, her eyes boring into hers. “I promise that he’s not cheating on you. Can you please let this go? How about you go and find him, have a smoke, and then come back to me with the verdict?”

(Y/N) hummed back in response, thinking about what Sarah had just told her. When she first moved to Obx from the city 4 years ago, she had been spending most of her time with the other kooks. When she bumped onto JJ one particular evening while he was too busy mowing down her lawn, that was when most of her happiest days started.

(Y/N) made her way towards the far end of the beach where JJ and the other pogues were hanging out, her feet lightly patting against the hot sand. (Y/N) took a deep breath when she saw the love of her life laughing on a log, and quickly walked towards him.

“Hey,” she started, sitting on the empty space beside him. JJ shifted, giving her more space, and muttered a quick ‘hi’ back. He offered her a beer, to which she shook her head to, and he shrugged before downing the whole content.

“You’ve got some beer here,” (Y/N) said, leaning forward to wipe the tiny droplet on his chin. JJ hurtled backwards as if on cue, and quickly wiped the stain with the back of his hand. (Y/N) stared at him, being caught off guard, but decided to not create any drama.

“You really don’t have to do that,” (Y/N) muttered, wrapping her cardigan over her tighter. The cold night air swept over her, causing her hair to fall over her shoulders. She didn’t bother to fix it as she watched JJ scoffed, the fire in front of them reflecting on the surface of his blue eyes.

“Do what? Wipe my mouth? Come on, (Y/N), it’s really not that big of a deal,” JJ sighed. He didn’t even bother to hold her hand, to reassure her that it’s really okay, and instead he continued his conversation with John B about some kind of a movie. She noticed Pope looking at their way, but he quickly turned to look at the waves when she returned his gaze.

“Do you want to smoke?” she tried again, this time with her hands on his lap. He didn’t move, and (Y/N) took this as a good sign, her heart fluttering happily.

It’s progress.

“You sure?” he asked, fumbling with his back pocket to reach for his extra blunt. When he grasped the rolled up herbs between his fingers, he handed it to her, smiling when she scooted closer. He lighted it for her, watching her took a deep huff before blowing the smoke.

“That’s good?” he asked before taking a blow for himself. He felt his heavy mind getting lighter, the weight he has been holding since forever slowly lifting into the air. He laughed, and turned to look at the state of the girl beside him.

“Thank you, baby,” (Y/N) smiled, this time with her head on his shoulder. She saw Pope looking at them with some kind of a heavy look again, but just like before, he turned away before she could ask him anything.

“Pope?”

Pope’s attention from the crashing waves turned completely to (Y/N), his eyes wide and his mind panicking. His eyes glanced to the blonde boy beside her for a second, but it settled back to her. “Yes?”

“You’re okay? You keep looking at me. Is there anything that you want to tell me?”

“Me?” he pointed to his chest, and when he saw the look on JJ’s face, he laughed, making an action of swatting his hands against the air. “Oh no. I was just thinking about something else. I guess I involuntarily looked at you.”

(Y/N) laughed with him, her head still on JJ’s shoulder, her eyes slowly squinting against the glowing fire that seemed to be too bright. She turned to whisper to JJ, “Can we go home?”

“Tonight? But It’s Bonfire night. We can’t leave yet,” he protested, glancing at both of his friends for help. Pope, not wanting to spend anymore time with them anymore, quickly stood up from his seat and walked towards the main space of the party.

“I’m gonna go with Pope, okay? Find Sarah. Go and talk to her? I’ll call you later,” JJ quickly added, standing up from his seat, stirring (Y/N) from her previous position. She sighed, her head still woozy, but she didn’t want to think about the possibility of him cheating on her.

He wanted her first, it’s just not possible for him to suddenly lose feelings for her. The countless times he would tell her that he loves her, that she’s the only girl he will ever mark as his, and now nothing?

She groaned, kicking the sand, all while the muffled music thrumming against her eardrums. She turned to look at John B, the only guy left with her, and opened her mouth to say something.

“Do you see the problem, John B?” she asked, her voice slow. When he didn’t reply, she sighed again, this time standing up from her seat to return to the ongoing party. “This is exactly the fucking problem.”

She didn’t understand; why is everyone treating her differently? What did she do? She sacrificed almost everything to be apart of their group, including her relationship with her kook friends. At that moment, she longed for her bedroom, where she knew she will be totally safe, all cuddled up with Netflix to enjoy.

“If it isn’t the princess,” a voice said from behind her back, and (Y/N) rolled her eyes before turning to look at the source. The tall figure of Rafe Cameron loomed over her, and (Y/N) tried to block his scent of cigarette and expensive cologne. She never really stopped liking his smell.

The Camerons and her family are business partners, and that was the core reason for her family to move to Obx in the middle of July 4 years ago. Meeting Sarah and her siblings for the first time, she couldn’t deny the strong attraction she felt towards the oldest sibling, but she had thought of it as nothing more than a silly crush and tried to focus more on her relationship with a certain blonde boy living on the other side of the island.

“You can take a picture, it’ll last longer that way,” he smiled, and (Y/N) groaned when she could hear the amused tone lacing in his gruff voice. She made to walk away, but was halted by Rafe’s fingers around her wrist.

“Come on, I was just playing. That’s not the way to treat an old friend,” he laughed, letting go of her. He looked around her, noticing her odd behaviour, and suppressed his smile. “Where’s the boyfriend?”

“I don’t know,” she finally replied, and returned the gesture of looking around him. “Where’s the girlfriend?”

Rafe laughed, throwing his head back as his hair messily slicked to the back. “Girlfriend? I don’t do girlfriends. Come on, (Y/N), you know that.”

“Not a surprise,” she said in a singing tone, giving her attention towards the dancing bodies next to the speaker. “Look, Rafe, just say whatever you want to say to me, okay? I’m tired of trying to figure out what people wanted to say to me.”

“I just want to make a conversation,” he shrugged, chugging down his beer before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His actions reminded her of JJ, and she quickly looked away when she felt a pang of hurt across her heart.

“Uh-oh, I know that look,” Rafe said, tugging her chin to force her to look at him. (Y/N) grunted, feeling his cold skin against hers, but she let him stare into her eyes before quickly pulling away. “Yeah. It’s that look you’ll put when you’re worried about something. What’s up?”

“Rafe, it’s really nothing,” she sighed, scooting away from the boy. She looked around again, and her eyes landed on a certain blonde boy, and she could feel her heart soaring up again. Rafe’s eyes followed her gaze, and when he saw JJ, he turned to look away.

“I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Rafe replied, already making his way towards the keg station. (Y/N) noticed the change in his behaviour, seeing how cold he turned, but decided not to mention it. She was being cold towards him first, so she guessed it was fair for him to be acting that way.

Rafe didn’t understand how blind she could be. Couldn’t she notice the pattern of the girls he fucked? How they all looked so similar to her?

He scoffed, sipping from his red cup as he watched her walk towards the boy that stole her from him. Everything was going perfect; they were hanging out almost every day; just her and Rafe, either it was in his swimming pool or (Y/N)’s hot tub. When her father had hired JJ Maybank to mower his lawn, that was when everything went downhill.

“Cameron,” a voice greeted from beside him, and when he turned to look at the figure, he expressed a sly smirk.

One more person that looked like her.

. . .

JJ’s phone was beside her.

She kept telling herself no, that she should trust him since they are in a relationship, but her brain was yelling for her to go through his phone.

He’s cheating on you.

She groaned, unable to contain herself anymore as she grabbed his phone, looking around briefly before typing his passcode.

The phone vibrated in her hands as she failed to guess his passcode, and she frowned before the screen. It had been her birthday’s date, so why wouldn’t it open? She tried again with their anniversary date, and again, was met with the same fate.

“What the fuck?” she said to no one in particular, and sighed before trying out random numbers. Lastly, she pressed all 1, not thinking much of it and already accepting her defeat. She exclaimed in happiness when his home screen appeared with his background a picture of a dog.

(Y/N) frowned again, remembering how it used to be a picture of them, but decided to not question it as their picture had been replaced by a dog instead of something else. She went through his Instagram, scroling down the many direct messages, through his Imessages; where he texts the pogues a lot and through his Snapchat, only finding their private pictures in his ‘my eyes only’.

She released the breath she didn’t realise she was holding, shutting the phone off and letting it lay in its previous position. She smiled, secretly cursing at herself for ever doubting JJ. He must’ve been busy with his life, just-

Ding!

Involuntarily, (Y/N) picked up the phone and watched as Kie’s name appeared. She typed in his passcode quickly, trying to see what she needs so that she could try and help her with anything in case if it’s urgent. Her heart stopped for a minute when she saw her text.

Kie: You’re sleeping with her tonight?

Why would she even text him that?

(Y/N) sat up straighter, her fingers gliding across the screen in a swift motion.

wdym?

She watched as the typing signal appeared, biting the insides of her cheeks. She looked at the direction of the toilet again, hearing the blonde boy humming to a Nirvana song. She looked at the screen again.

Kie: You promised me you would be with me tonight

Kie: Just us two

Oh my god.

She could feel the hot tears coming in, but her bathroom door creaked open, so she threw the phone back to its initial position and cleared her throat, looking to the ceiling and randomly muttering words to herself.

“Huh?” JJ asked, looking at the direction she pointed. He saw nothing, and looked back to her.

“I said white’s not the color anymore. I think I’m changing it to grey. What do you think?” She asked, feeling her throat hurting. She cleared her throat again as JJ stared at the ceiling one more time, his face all scrunched up.

“I think grey’s okay?” He said, but it was more to a question. He took his phone and sat beside her, shielding his screen from her. She watched him from the corners of her eyes, silently interpreting his strange demeanor.

She cursed when it finally hit her; she hadn’t delete her text to Kie.

She bit her lips, curling her toes and randomly tracing circles on her lap. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t see clearly, she couldn’t think.

How could she forgot to delete that one, single text?

“I have to go,” JJ stood up, slipping his phone into his pocket. (Y/N) looked at him, ready to ask if she could follow, but halted her action when he put a hand up.

“I’m seeing John B. Something about, um, Sarah stuff. Just me and Pope. The boys,” he muttered, clearly trying to tell her that he wouldn’t be bringing her to the Chateau. (Y/N) nodded, feeling her heart sank, because she finally understood everything;

The glances he would give to Kie in the HMS Pogue, the brief moments where he would put his hands around Kie’s waist when he tries to slip in between her and someone, the flirtatious laugh he’ll emit when she makes a joke - it all made sense.

(Y/N) used to think that it was all just friendly behaviour and how he had known her longer hence it must’ve been normal for best friends to do that. One thing that (Y/N) likes about herself is how she’s able to guess things correctly -

But she had never wanted to be so wrong about something before.

“You’re okay by yourself tonight?”

“Huh?” She finally looked up to him, seeing his blue eyes staring straight into her boring ones. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” he smiled, proceeding towards the open window to exit her bedroom. (Y/N) ‘s father would never give his blessings towards this relationship, so he had to enter and exit his girlfriend’s room through the window.

He hesitated before reaching the seating girl, placing a soft but immediate kiss on her cheeks. (Y/N) smiled weakly in return, not trusting herself to say anything.

How could he?

Ten minutes after his departure, (Y/N) quickly grabbed her father’s car keys before fleeing after a particular black motorcycle. She didn’t even think about turning the car radio on, and her mind was set on only one thing; JJ and Kie.

When she arrived at the Chateau, her fingers trembling and her hair all over the place from the wind while she was driving down the road, forgetting to close the window, she quickly made her way to their usual hanging out place.

Before she could enter the room, Pope’s voice interrupted her actions.

“(Y/N)? What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked, his eyes widening. He looked at her palm around the doorknob, and let out a nervous laugh. “You’re looking for JJ? He’s not here.”

She gets it now.

“Pope, I know,” was all she said before opening the door.��

She felt her world shattering right after she was greeted with the sight of Kie on JJ’s lap, running her fingers through his blonde locks while she kissed him tenderly like (Y/N) always did. John B and Sarah were right next to him, cheering him on, but stopped when they finally looked up to the looming figure.

“Oh my god,” Kie exclaimed, pushing herself off JJ and fixing her hair. (Y/N) made a look, disgust filling every inch of her body as she quickly walked away from the scene, not wanting to hear any apologies or explanation.

None of that mattered to her; she just wanted to go home.

“(Y/N)!” she heard him yell, but she exited the Chateau as fast as her feet could take her, not stopping to look at him. She cursed when she couldn’t find the right key to open her door, her fingernails clanking against the metal.

“It was a dare!” JJ said, right after he reached her. He watched as she didn’t pay any attention towards him, still fumbling for her keys. “I swear! The kiss was just a dare!”

“Was the text a dare as well?” she asked, finally putting the right key into the keyhole and stepping into the car. JJ cursed and stepped aside, feeling drained and tired from the screaming.

Of course he didn’t send the ‘wdym’. He never like short forms, only using them when he is in the toilet and typing with his left hand. Why didn’t he realised this sooner?

“I’m sorry,” he said, but before he could say anything else, the girl drove straight towards the exit, away from him.

The worst part of all wasn’t about not having a chance to explain himself to get out of the mess he made, but it was when he saw the pained look on her face.

“Fuck!” he yelled, kicking a stone and making his way back towards the Chateau.

(Y/N) fingers scrolled down the many contacts in her phone as she tried to focus on the road simultaneously, and finally stopping when she reached the letter ‘R’ contacts.

She tapped on the first name under the R letter, putting the phone call on speaker and placing her phone on her lap. She shuddered, suddenly remembering the way she had found JJ and Kie in, but shook her head when his voice filled the atmosphere.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Rafe.”

add yourself to the taglist!

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagines #rafe x reader #rafe cameron smuts #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #outerbanks #outer banks #outerbanks imagines #outerbanks x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagines

1K notes · View notes

hereforbords · 3 years

Text

Baby, what the deal? We can chill

Hi, allow me to introduce myself...I am the anon affectionately known as “Dad Bordy anon” (on @owenpowpow’s page). Real talk though, I got hooked on Michigan hockey thanks to the Olympics (I know my hometown Kraken drafted Matty, but I wasn’t really a fan of his until recently. LOL). Since then, I have fallen head-first into UMich hockey and can’t seem to (and really don’t want to) dig myself out of the hole I’ve dug.

This is a little something that was rattling around my brain, and I felt like I needed to get it out. For @owenpowpow, since she was so willing to listen to my thoughts and give me the encouragement I needed to be brave enough to post it. Thanks! :)

Who knows, maybe there will be more fic in the future...guess time will tell!

The first time one of the boys had called you “mom”, you were a little shocked. Bords had quickly laughed and told you that the boys called him dad, so by proxy, you were now their mom. Overnight, you adopted 20 boys. Now whenever one of them called out, “Mom?” your response was, “Yes?”.

Today, it was Brendan who came over to sit by you. “Mom, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure thing hon. What’s up?”

“Your lipstick looks nice. What brand is it?”

You chuckled. You had quickly caught on to Bords trying to figure out your favorite things. He had recruited the boys’ help. “It’s called ‘Vanilla Cream Pie’ by NYX makeup. In case your dad was wondering.” You laughed.

Brendan laughed too. “He was.” Brendan looked at you. “It does look really nice though.” He smiled. “You know, you should get red lipstick. Match his jacket. Don’t tell him though. Surprise him.”

You stared at Brendan for a minute. “You do realize that if I do that, your dad and I might make out and you would have to see that?” You grinned. You liked to rile the boys up sometimes.

“Ew!” Brendan played along, groaning and covering his eyes. “Gross!” He stood up off the couch. “I gotta go to practice. I’ll see you later.”

“Have fun!” You called out. As soon as you were sure the house was empty, you left and headed to the store. Brendan might be onto something with the red lipstick. You found the perfect shade and hid it in your purse, knowing Bords and the boys would never go through there.

You were just getting the food out for lunch when the boys came crashing through the door. “Wash your hands!” You yelled, chuckling as you heard a chorus of “Yes mom!”

Matty was the first one to come in. “You need some help with the food?”

“I got it, thanks. Do you want to set the table?” Matty had just turned around to set the table when you felt arms wrap around you. “Hi mama.” Bords said, kissing the back of your neck.

“Hi dad.” You said, turning around in Bords’ arms. “How was practice?”

“Good.”

“That’s good.” You said, handing him the salad bowl. “Put that on the table, would you?”

“Ok.” Bords did. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“Nothing, why?”

“I was thinking we could go out and see a movie?”

“Thomas Bordeleau, are you asking me out on a date?” You teased, giggling as the boys made gagging noises and covered their eyes.

“I am.” He said.

“Sure.” You smiled. You turned to face the boys. “Owen is in charge. Behave. No breaking things. We’ll be back in a while.” You gave your best “mom” speech.

“Yeah, what your mom said.” Bords said. “I want the dishes done when we come back.” He added, reaching out his hand to you. “Ready?”

“Ready.” You laced yours and Bords’ fingers together. “Bye boys!”

“Bye mom and dad!” They called out.

You and Bords got home from the movie to find a silent household with all the boys sleeping. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen it this calm in here before.” You remarked, chuckling softly.

“I haven’t either.” Bords admitted.

Matty chose that minute to wake up. “Oh, you guys are home. I can start on dinner, since it’s my night. Just got to run to the store first. Do you need anything?”

“I’m good, thanks.” Bords said, nodding at Matty, who returned it. You just shook your head no, and didn’t even try to figure out what the nods were for. You set the table, and when Matty came back and handed you the bag of Sour Patch Kids, you got the head nods.

“Thanks Matty.” You said, then turned to Bords. “Thank you too.”

You woke up the boys for dinner, and then it was time for you to go back to your own place for the night. Bords insisted on walking you home.

“I had fun today.” You said.

“Me too. Same time tomorrow?”

“You know it.”

When you got the panicked, “Mom??! Can you come over?” text from Jacob, you were up and over to Bords’ place before you even realized you hadn’t changed out of your pajamas. Jacob let you in and pointed you to Bords’ room.

“What’s going on?” You asked, looking at him curled up in the bed.

“Don’t feel good.” He croaked out, another coughing fit taking over.

“Give me 10, ok? I’ll take care of you. Gotta get our boys taken care of first though, ok? Rest.”

You herded the boys through the morning routine and got them all off to their respective areas (you called and excused Bords from practice; Matty said he’d come back right after and make some chicken noodle soup) and then went back upstairs to find Bords asleep, snoring through his plugged up nose. You took the chair by the side of the bed and waited for him to wake up.

“Feeling any better?” You asked, handing him a Gatorade and another set of cold pills.

“Uh.” He said, reaching out. “Cuddle with me.”

“You’re sick.” You said.

“If you’re not sick after all that making out we did last night, I think you’ll be fine,” he laughed, which set off another round of coughs.

“Fine.” You agreed. “Make room.” After you two were securely bundled up, you said, “Sorry you’re not feeling good.”

“I’m better cause you’re here.” He said, eyes slipping closed. You let yours close as well.

Matty came in and found the two of you sleeping. He lightly tapped your arm until you woke up. “I made some soup if you want to try to get him to eat anything.”

“Thanks Matty.” You turned and gently woke Bords up. “Hey, Matty made you some soup. Think you can try some?”

“Ok.” Two bowls of soup later, you were pushing Bords to the shower so you could change the sheets. You got him all tucked in and then went back home for the night.

The boys kept texting you updates and it was almost midnight when the fever broke. After that, most of the cold symptoms went away quickly, and he was back to normal by the next day.

“Hey, thanks for taking care of me when I was all gross and sick.”

“No problem.”

“Hey mom?” Owen called out.

“Yeah, Owen?”

“What was that show you were binging again? I need something to watch.”

“Let’s see. There’s Killing Eve, any of the FBI series, Resident Alien, and a lot more.” You said. “Though, I think dad is trying to figure out what TV show series to buy me, isn’t he?” You chuckled.

“Yes.” Owen said.

“Tell him to get the complete series of As Time Goes By. It’s a good British show. Or Castle. I’ll even let you watch it with us if you want to.” You added.

“Ok. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, baby.” You loved that sweet boy like he really was your kid. “Anything else you need?”

“That’s it.” Owen stood up to leave. “We like having you around.” He added.

“I like being here too.” You said.

The red lipstick you had bought complimented his jacket perfectly (and you were right; Bords could barely keep his hands off of you after he saw you in it.)

You had just sat down in his lap and leaned in for a kiss when Brendan walked by and yelled, “Gross! Mom and Dad are kissing.” You and Bords chuckled and pulled back, each grinning at Brendan.

“I warned you.” You teased. “But would you listen? No.”

Bords just laughed. “Listen to your mother Briss. She’s right-most of the time.”

“Uh huh.” Briss said. “I’m going to my room now.”

“Night!” You and Bords said. He got his kiss and then said, “I guess we should go to bed too. We’re going to have 20 very loud and rambunctious boys to deal with in the morning.”

“Yeah.” You agreed. You had offered to do a team breakfast for their first playoff series, and all the boys were sprawled out around the house right now sleeping. “Gotta be the responsible team parents, right?”

“Right.”

***

Bords had been hanging out with the boys more frequently, and while you were glad, you also kind of missed spending time with him just by himself. When he had invited you out tonight, just the two of you, you had jumped at the chance. You hadn’t even noticed Matty and Briss in the back of the restaurant.

He walked you home, and when you got to your door, he said, “Wait a minute, I have something for you. Close your eyes.”

You did, and felt a tube of some sort be placed into your hands. When he told you to open your eyes, you did, and found a lipstick tube. It was a vibrant red, and a little darker than what you would normally wear. “Thanks.” You said.

“Look at the name.” He said. You turned the tube upside down, and saw “Wife Goals” listed on it.

“Thomas?” You asked, looking up, only to find him down on one knee with a ring. You couldn’t help it as your hand flew to your mouth and the (happy) tears started.

“My cherie amour, my darling. You have made my life so much better and I don’t want to spend another day without you by my side. Would you do the honour of being my wife? Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” You grinned, letting him slide the ring on your finger. You gave him a big kiss, and as you pulled back, you said, “We should tell the boys about this.”

“They already know.” Bords grinned, pointing over to where Matty and Briss had been filming the whole thing. “I had to make sure they were going to like their new mom first.” He teased. “I love you, Mrs. soon-to-be Bordeleau.”

“Love you too Mr. Bordeleau.” You grinned.

When you got back to the house, the boys had decorated the house and there was a big vase of flowers on the table. You got hugs from all the boys telling you and Bords both congratulations. You couldn’t keep the grin off your face and you couldn’t help but stare down at the ring on your finger.

“Can we make it Instagram official?” You asked.

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.” Bords got Kent to take a photo of Bords down on one knee, holding your ring like he was sliding it onto your finger. You both posted it on your Instagrams.

Bords leaned in for another kiss on your cheek. “I’m glad you want to spend the rest of your life with me, mama.”

“We’ll, there’s no one else I’d rather be with, daddy.” You said, watching his eyes darken a little. You started laughing. “That is not what I meant.”

He started laughing too. “I know. Just had to mess with you a bit. Come on, bed.” That set off a fresh round of laughter. “To sleep.” He added.

“I knew that.” You laughed, climbing into your side of the bed. “Night. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

267 notes · View notes

august-anon · 2 years

Text

The Revenge

IT IS HERE I hope you all enjoy, there is much more to come lol

----

Fandom: Our Flag Means Death

Ship(s): GentleBeard (Stede/Ed)

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Ed/Ler!Stede

Word Count: 2283 words

Summary: You don't just tickle someone and get away without revenge, especially if the other person knows you're ticklish too. So why hasn't Stede gotten revenge on Ed yet?

[ao3 link]

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

Ed couldn’t even remember how they got into the situation. Moments with Stede tended to get like that, either a whirlwind blur of emotions and experiences he’s never truly allowed himself before, or a slow, steady crawl where the feelings threaten to consume him entirely and he remembers every little detail in stark clarity, and there was very little in-between. He wasn’t sure which he preferred, but they were both a little overwhelming in the best of ways.

Ed remembered how they ended up in the crow’s nest (a plunder well-won, a reward of marmalade and croissants, just like their first success together), their conversation beforehand (in quiet voices, rising and falling, but always trying to stay low enough for the ocean winds to sweep away their words in privacy), Ed nudging Stede after a joke (Stede laughed a little too hard, Ed locked onto it, knowing Stede’s mannerisms too well already). The next bit was a blur of whispered conversation, scrambling limbs, and close calls; and somehow, Ed had gotten Stede pinned beneath him and drawn out all the laughter the man seemed capable of making.

He remembered Stede’s laugh, at least. And his smile. The way his eyes crinkled, and how he threw his head back when he got particularly loud. Ed remembered how he wished he could kiss that exposed skin, the small bit of neck peeking out from that high collar, and how hard he had tried to not let it show on his face. And in the end, Stede hadn’t even been angry or annoyed or put-out by the attack. In fact, he had found it fun.

“And what about you?” Stede asked after Ed had backed off, after he’d caught his breath and his smile had faded into something less forced.

Ed squinted at him. “What about me?”

Stede grinned at him. “Is the great Blackbeard ticklish, then?”

Ed’s mouth went dry. It wasn’t a joke, it wasn’t even teasing. Stede said it as plainly as the day he asked how Ed took his tea (and somehow memorized it after being told only once). He genuinely wanted to know, expecting Ed to answer that sort of question honestly.

Fuckin’ mental.

“I dunno, mate,” Ed said gruffly, trying to laugh it off. “Been awhile, you know?”

“Ah, yes,” Stede said, nodding and sitting up again to settle back next to Ed. His eyes were so earnest, Ed couldn’t look away. “Were you? Back then?”

Ed coughed a little, rolling his shoulders. The crow’s nest suddenly felt… very small, and it was shrinking rapidly. “I guess I was, sure.”

Stede hummed. “Most people are, you know.”

And Ed kept waiting and waiting, prepared for the moment Stede finally chose to strike, but… it never came. They stayed up there for a while longer, the conversation picking back up again with as much ease as ever, until the crew called them down for the next big, urgent issue of the day. Stede never even flinched in his direction, never even acted like the thought of revenge crossed his mind.

And the pattern continued. Ed waited day after day for him to strike. Stede was probably just biding his time, waiting for Ed’s guard to be down before he attacked, but still there was nothing. He felt like he was crawling out of his skin, waiting for the attack that never came. You didn’t just ask if someone was ticklish and then not try it out, no matter what their answer was! That wasn’t how it worked! No matter how genuinely one asked!

And then, as he often did, Ed eventually boiled over. They were relaxing in the captain’s quarters at the end of the day, as had become routine for them, drinking some of Stede’s ridiculously expensive alcohol out of ridiculously fancy glasses, sat next to each other on Stede’s ridiculously ornate sofa. Stede laughed at something Ed said, elbowing him in the ribs, and Ed flinched so badly he nearly spilled the brandy all over himself and the upholstery.

Stede stopped, his smile fading. “Ed? You alright?”

Ed blinked at him, waiting for the strike.

Stede frowned. “Are you hurt? Should we call for someone?”

Ed gritted his teeth, shoving his glass onto the nearest flat surface before gruffly shouting, “Just get it over with already!”

Slowly, Stede reached over and gently placed his own glass down before hunching down to make himself smaller and looking Ed in the eyes. “Get what over with, Ed?”

“The stupid–” Ed flailed his arms, as if that would make his point, then abruptly stood and started pacing in front of the sofa.

Stede squinted at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Ed stopped and stared at him. As usual, at least with Ed, Stede was an open book, in both body language and facial expression. His eyes were wide and earnest, like usual, and scrunched up at the corners with concern. He was leaning forward toward Ed, his hands on his knees rubbing soothingly at the material of his trousers. Ed blinked at him again.

“You really don’t know, do you?” He mumbled, mostly to himself.

“No, I really don’t.”

“You haven’t– you know, gotten your revenge.”

“Ah, right.” Stede stared at him for a few moments. “... Revenge for what, exactly?”

“For– tickling you, obviously.”

Stede brightened, sitting up straight again. “Oh! Well, to be honest, the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.”

Ed shifted his weight, feeling out of his depth. It’s not like he had many playful interactions in his life, but this… didn’t seem right.

“It… hadn’t?”

Stede scoffed. “No! I wouldn’t do that without your permission!”

Something uncomfortable squirmed in Ed’s gut. “But when I did it to you…”

Stede raised his eyebrows. “I never told you to stop, did I?”

Ed hesitated. “No?”

“That’s right, I didn’t. And if I had, I believe you would have.”

The room fell silent. Stede gave him one of those gentle smiles, patting the sofa.

“Would you like to sit back down?”

Ed smoothed down his beard. “You’re not gonna tickle me?”

“Not unless you want me to.”

Slowly, Ed made his way back over to the sofa, flopping back down without much grace. He picked his brandy back up just to have something to do with his hands, swirling it in the glass and watching it flow. He thought about Stede’s bright smile, his bouncing laughter, the closeness they shared when Ed had attacked. His eyes darted over to Stede, who was pretending not to watch him.

“And if I wanted you to?”

Stede jerked his head to face Ed. “Are you sure?”

Ed swallowed. “I’m sure, mate.”

Stede reached out and plucked the glass from Ed’s fingers, setting it aside again with his own. Then, he scanned his eyes up and down Ed’s torso as Ed squirmed, suddenly feeling very exposed in just his shirt, his leather jacket tossed over a chair on the other side of the room.

“I know you said it’s been some time,” Stede said, still eyeing him, “but do you happen to recall where you’re ticklish?”

Ed coughed a little. “Not really, no. Just that it was, uh, pretty bad.”

Stede smiled at him. “I’ll go easy on you.”

Going easy on Ed was, apparently, reaching out very slowly as he scooted closer on the sofa until his hands reached the edges of Ed’s now quivering stomach, right where it met his sides. Then, ever so lightly, Stede started scratching over the material of his shirt. Ed’s breath hitched and his arms jerked inward for defense, so Ed tried to tuck them against his chest to keep them out of the way. When he glanced back up, Stede’s smile had morphed into a full grin.

“Tickle here?” He asked.

Ed cleared his throat. “Ye-yeah, a little, I guess.”

Stede hummed, his eyes taking on a playful glint, and directed his hands inward toward Ed’s stomach. His scratching got a little faster, a little firmer, but his fingers still stayed gentle against Ed’s torso. Still, Ed couldn’t help but double over slightly, a chuckle catching on his throat on the way out and coming out a little strangled and confused.

Stede chuckled along. “How’s that, then?”

“Yeah,” Ed said, his voice strained as he instinctively tried to keep the laughter down. “Yep. That’s definitely– definitely something.”

Stede leaned in closer, something mischievous pulling at the edges of his grin. “It is okay to laugh, you know. That is rather the point.”

Just as he said this, Stede’s fingers picked up off his belly until only two fingers from each hand were pressed into the softness of it, and then he vibrated them and the ticklish feeling buzzed throughout Ed’s whole torso. He barked out a laugh, the dam breaking, and doubled over fully this time, laughing into his knees while Stede’s hands got pinned to Ed’s stomach by his thighs. It seemed uncomfortable, but Stede showed no issue with it, easily slipping his hands away to slowly dance up Ed’s sides and ribs instead.

“There we go,” Stede said as Ed barked out another laugh, sitting up suddenly and arching his back. “Isn’t that better?”

Ed didn’t know how to reply, so he elected not to. Instead, he was busy trying not to squeal as Stede’s fingers delicately teased at the backs of his ribs while Stede’s thumb wriggled teasingly into the sides of them. Ed pressed his arms to his sides and flopped heavily against the back of the sofa, trying instinctively to dislodge the tormenting fingers, but Stede was undeterred. Ed tossed his head back as he squirmed back and forth inelegantly on the sofa, his laughter finally gaining volume.

“See?” Stede said, the grin and a shadow of laughter clear in his voice. “Isn’t this fun?”

It… It was fun, honestly. Few people bothered to touch him with so much care, if anyone. And it felt kind of nice to laugh like this, uncontrolled and free. And he had Stede all gathered up in his personal space, drawing these reactions out of him and enjoying it, and honestly, Ed thought he might just combust.

For a few moments, Stede’s fingers tried to crawl even higher, but with Ed’s arms pressed so tightly to his sides, Stede seemed to realize it was futile. Instead, his devious hands jumped back to Ed’s belly to where Ed’s crop top had ridden up. At first, Ed was certain that Stede would sneak his fingers underneath the fabric and tear Ed apart one laugh at a time, but Stede, ever the gentleman, took a moment to tug his shirt back down to where it should lay. It gave Ed a moment to catch his breath, but only a moment, because soon Stede’s fingers were pressed back into his stomach and vibrating away once more, in that way that seemed so effective before.

And Ed thought he knew what it would feel like. It had only been a few minutes since he’d felt it last! But the tingling feeling must have built up throughout his nerves or something, because Ed shrieked. He shrieked and howled in desperate laughter, grasping desperately for Stede’s wrists. He tried not to push Stede away, simply hanging on for his own sanity, but Ed could only stand the relentless buzzing through his belly for a few moments before he was doubling over his legs once more. Except this time, that didn’t deter Stede.

No, Stede kept his hands firmly where they were. Or, more accurately, his fingers jumped around to the parts of Ed’s belly he could still reach without bending his wrists too awkwardly and kept his fingers vibrating all the while. Tears pricked at the corners of Ed’s eyes, and he wondered if he even knew that you could cry from laughing too hard before this. It sounded familiar, but felt completely new in practice, and he squeezed his eyes shut against it.

“I think we found someone’s tickle spot,” Stede said, his tone nearly sing-song.

Ed tried (rather unsuccessfully, in fact) to growl at Stede through his laughter. He flung himself against the back of the sofa again, stomping his feet repeatedly to try and help him cope with the feeling. He didn’t know how anyone hadn’t thought to come check on them yet, with how loud Ed felt like he was being.

And then Stede made good use of the surface area Ed had opened back up. He slipped his hands down until he had no choice but to tickle against Ed’s skin with the shortness of his shirt, targeting the soft area of his stomach below his belly button. And Ed wailed and his tears finally fell and he shoved Stede away with all the strength he could muster, which, frankly, wasn’t much. Luckily, Stede went easily, pulling his arms back into his own space and waiting quietly with only a chuckle or two while Ed’s soul re-entered his body.

“Have fun?” Stede asked after several moments of Ed trying to catch his breath.

Ed chuckled breathlessly, bringing his hands up to rub roughly at the tear tracks on his face. “You know what? I think I did.”

“Good.” Stede knocked their shoulders together and grinned. “I reckon you’ll sleep great tonight.”

Ed heaved a sigh. “I reckon I will.” He dropped his head back against the edge of the sofa, lolling it to the side to gaze at Stede with a tired smile. “We should do it again sometime.”

“I certainly wouldn’t mind either way. Just say the word.”

Ed had a feeling they would both be smiling a lot more in the coming weeks.

#tickle fic #My writing #ofmd tickling #lee!ed #ler!stede #ticklish!ed #ofmd #stede bonnet #ed teach #gentlebeard

134 notes · View notes

delicrieux · 4 years

Text

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 23: PRETTY BOY

emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.

─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: a lil over 7k.

author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results).

You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be.

The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.

Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.

In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children.

noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T

yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me

feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(

You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.

“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.

why does she sound like goofy

The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.

pack it up yandere simulator

idk whats going on but i think im into it?

villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC

“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”

More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?”

“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”

“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”

“SD-what now?” Dream questions.

“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”

“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”

“Guess, Sherlock.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.

“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”

“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.

“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim.

Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.

“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”

If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.

“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.

“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.

Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.��

i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me

^already too late for me bro

As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.

Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman’s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.

He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”

He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.

“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”

“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”

“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.

“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.

“HEY!”

“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.

Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.

Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!

“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.

“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.

“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”

Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.

“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”

Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”

“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”

“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”

“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”

“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”

“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.

“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”

“You were not--”

“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”

“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”

“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do.

Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”

“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.

BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS yns_fishnets donated 5$ mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!

Your fishnets have a point!

“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.

“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.

“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”

“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”

“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”

“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”

“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”

“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”

“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”

“Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.

“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.

“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.

“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”

NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK

MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T

“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”

“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”

“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”

“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”

finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for

i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)

the bis won

“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”

“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”

Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”

“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”

“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus.

“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”

“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.

“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”

Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping.

You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.

That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex.

“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”

“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”

“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.

“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”

“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”

“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”

“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!

“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”

Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”

“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”

“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.

“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”

“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”

A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.

“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”

He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him.

y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards

Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.

“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”

“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”

“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.

“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”

“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”

“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.

“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red.

“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.

“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.

“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.

In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.

“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”

“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).

yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder

queen stop its embarrassing

bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3

More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.

The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.

it’s happening!!!!

omg omg omg omg

VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC

You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”

pack it up light yagami

this has awoken something in me.

^ same

The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.

Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.

It’s a knife.

In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.

Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.

Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.

So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.

“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling.

You grin, “I was looking for something.”

Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.

“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.

“A knife.”

“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”

“Yes.”

“No!”

You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.

i love women

if evil bad...why seggy?

You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.

You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!”

“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out.

“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”

“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, “Real 6′3 energy, no?”

“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.

hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom

hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly

mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn

Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.

You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”

“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”

“Is it because you’re bald?”

“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.

You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.

You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.

“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”

You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.

“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.

“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.

“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.

“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”

“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.

“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.

Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.

“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.

“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.

only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3

corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever

the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite

“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.

You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”

“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.

“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”

“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.

“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you.

You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage.

“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”

“No fucking clue.”

“Y/n?” She tries again.

“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”

“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.

Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.

You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her.

“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”

“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”

You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”

“SHIT!”

Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”

“I’m not Impostor!”

“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”

They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.

“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”

“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”

“I dunno,” You say, “when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”

“I’d never do that, baby.”

Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement.

“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.”

Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”

“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”

“Holy shit.”

“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.

“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.

“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.

“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.

“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”

“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”

“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”

Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”

“No, she does.” James chimes.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”

More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.

Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fic #corpse husband social media au #social media au #myso #make you say oh #quackity #dream smp #corpse x y/n #imagine #imagines #reader #xreader

2K notes · View notes

tsvkishma · 4 years

Text

you wanna kiss me so bad, huh?

series: my hero academia / boku no hero academia

pairings: katsuki bakugo x reader

length: 5k words

warnings: swearing, mentions of making out (w/ a minor), breach of privacy??

tags: secret relationship, enemies to lovers, high school AU, reader-insert

summary: the mutual agreement between you and your bf to keep your relationship on the DL is about to be ruined when he makes the stupid mistake to leave his phone on the table for the whole class to see

author’s note: i’m so sorry! i really tried to make it gender neutral, but it was female leaning... i apologize! i’m still pretty new to writing dis homie so please be lenient when it comes to character accuracy lol. i also apologize for the messy, unstructured writing. also thank u to bae @izvkos for proofreading!

Just as you were getting ready to doze off, the school bell rang, startling you and making you jerk up from your comfortable position on the desk with your head in your arms. Some of your classmates got up to stretch, since it was the break time between classes. Unfortunately, it had only been the end of third period and you had a long school day to go through. You let out a low groan of disappointment. I guess I’ll have to keep myself awake just a little bit longer.

To be honest, you didn’t mean to stay up all night... it was just that you couldn’t help binge-watching your favorite show last night. You convinced yourself that you were only going to watch one episode before you went to sleep... then one lead to two... then three... and then before you knew it, the birds started chirping. But, hey! It wasn’t your fault that it was so addicting!

“Oi.”

You look up to see Bakugo peering over you with his hands in his pockets and a smirk on his face, “Tch, you don’t look so good today. Didn’t get enough sleep? How are you gonna be a pro hero with those bad habits of yours?”

You scoffed, “Oh, fuck off. Sorry I don’t go to sleep at 8 every night… grandpa.”

“Yeah, yeah. Make fun of me all you want, but who’s gonna be laughing when you fail your exams next week. I see you dozing off in class, you act like Aizawa-sensei doesn’t even notice,” Bakugo grunts.

You coo, “Awe, is blasty-boy watching me during class? I didn’t know you were this deeply in love with me! So cute.”

His face went red for a moment before his usual angry expression returned, “I DON’T HAVE A CRUSH ON YOU DAMMIT! I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR STUPID CRAP LIKE THAT!”

“Y/n! Stop teasing Bakugo like that! You know he can’t handle it...” Mina chimed in, joining the fun.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CAN’T HANDLE IT?! ” screamed Bakugo.

“Quiet down back there.,” threatened Cementoss as he entered the class to prepare his next lesson.

You and Mina were just laughing at your classmate screaming his head off, it was always an amusing sight if anything. Even though Bakugo denies having a crush on you, it wasn’t true. And you knew that. He had a fat crush on you, but it was more than that! He was your boyfriend.

You guys had kept your relationship on the down-low for about a month now, your relationship only became official about a week ago, but you guys had been going on dates prior. Bakugo wanted to keep your relationship a secret, you know, to protect his ego or whatever since there has always been a rivalry between the two of you and everyone in Class 1-A was painfully aware of it. He was too proud to let anyone know that he fell for someone he once vouched as his enemy.

There was always constant bickering between the two of you. Whether it be something minute or something that you would argue over for a couple of days. It’s not like the arguments were unintentional because they were started just to spite the other. Bickering would start about each other’s fighting technique in battle or even accusing the other of stealing their food from the shared fridge in the dorms.

The rest of your class was so sick and tired of the ongoing feud so one day, they set out a plan (led by Kaminari and Kirishima) to lock you two in a room just to sort out your differences. They set a date where they would trick you two into thinking that there was a class activity that everyone had to attend, but it would just be you two to show up and you would smash the beef between you two, and BOOM! Problem solved.

Just as the day came for the plan, something was weirdly off about you two. The morning of, you two both came into class at the same time and it was dead silent between you two. No bickering, no petty comments, and no evil stares. As more and more people were arriving, they would immediately notice the weird tension in the air. It was strangely quiet, not just because you and Bakugo were silent, but because everyone else was too. The thought of you guys not constantly at each other’s necks that morning sort of put off the rest of the class. It felt weird to talk over the dead silence when they were so used to your guys’ voices as ambiance while they were in conversation.

As the day went on, nothing changed and you guys were still silent and ignoring each other. Obviously, everyone was suspicious about what exactly happened between you two to make you ignore one another. There was no way that you guys were angry at each other because when you were, both of you made it clear by arguing and yelling loudly.

However, before anyone had the chance to ask why you guys were so quiet, Bakugo decided to approach you for the first time between class periods. At this point, the class was back to normal and having regular conversations with one another during break time, but all of their eyes were on you two, and their voices hushed to pay attention to the tense interaction shared between you two.

“Oi. Let’s talk,” said Bakugo bluntly.

You looked up at his crimson red eyes for a second before looking away as if his presence wasn’t even there. At this point, you didn’t know what to say to him, yet. This fired up Bakugo because within a second he started yelling again.

“HEY DUMBASS! YOU DON’T GET TO IGNORE ME LIKE THAT!” he screamed.

You turned to meet his glare annoyed, “Oh, shut the fuck up. I don’t owe you shit. Leave me alone.”

He tested, “The fuck did you say to me, idiot?!”

“Fuck off, dipshit, all you ever wanna do is yell! And might I add- you do it loudly. Are you such a fucking grandpa that you can’t even hear yourself speak? Can you ever jjust shut. the. fuck. UP!” you yelled back.

The arguing continued and the rest of Class 1-A continued with their previous conversations after seeing you guys back to normal. The tension between you guys soon left their minds as they continued with the rest of their day. Unbeknownst to them, the night before you two were arguing like usual in the kitchen area of the dorms before Bakugo made his first move on you.

The argument started with you getting angry at Bakugo for making a mess on the counter after spilling some of his water. It was late at night and no one else was around and you two happened to wake up around the same time to get a drink of water.

“You idiot, clean up your fucking mess. You spilled it all over the counter,” you said as you gestured to the spilled water.

“Tch. I didn’t spill shit. If it bothers you so much, why don’t you go clean it up yourself?” he groaned as he leaned against the counter.

Appalled, you grabbed the roll of paper towels and threw it at his head. He was caught off guard as the roll of paper hit his forehead. It fell and rolled out onto the floor. Now, he was truly annoyed.

“Fuck was that for, huh?!” he said staring at you, smoke practically coming out of his ears.

You laughed, “Just giving you a hand since it seemed like you were too fucking lazy to grab the paper towels yourself. Seems like the grandpa’s getting too old to do stuff for himself, boohoo.”

He growled, rage evident in his face. You laughed to yourself looking away from his face. The next thing you knew, he grabbed you by the shoulders and pushed you against the fridge behind you. You were pinned by his big, rough hands and he was closer to your face than usual, yet still enraged.

You tried to wiggle out of his grip, but it was useless, “Let go of me, idiot! You need to learn how to take a fucking joke.”

He didn’t respond, but he kept his eyes on your face. You tried moving away, but now his grip on your shoulders tightened, making your breath hitch.

“What the fuck is your problem? You want me to say sorry or something? Did the paper towel knock the fucking sense out of you? Let me go!” you argued.

“What happened to all your fucking hero training? Can’t get out of my grip, huh? How pathetic,” he growled in a low tone.

You felt his eyes piercing into your own and it was making you a little bit uncomfortable. He’s never been physical with you, even with the constant bickering between you guys. This was a side of him you’ve never seen.

You started, “Look, did I hurt your feelings or something? Did I hit you really hard on the head? There’s no point in holding me against the fridge. Plus, the handle is kind of hurting my back-”

“Shut up,” he stated plainly.

He looked away, avoiding eye contact with you. Okay.... suspicious much...

You tried moving once again, then he pulled you up from the fridge only to slam you back against it, but this time harder.

“Why can’t you just fucking stay still?!” he started yelling.

“Ow! Because you’re being a fucking weirdo! There’s something fucking wrong with you, it’s starting to creep me out! What the fuck are your intentions anyway, huh?!” you argued back.

His calmness fading, he yelled back, “SHUT THE FUCK UP! ALL YOU EVER DO IS GET ON MY FUCKING NERVES LIKE YOU KNOW EVERY FUCKING THING IN THE WORLD!”

His face was inching closer and closer to your face with each word pouring from his mouth. You smirked at this.

You laughed, teasing, “Oh, you wanna kiss me so bad, huh?”

He immediately froze after hearing that sentence spill from your mouth and avoided eye contact yet again. Oddly enough, he returned to his calmer self... If you didn’t know any better, it was obvious that that sentence held some truth with him.

“Look just-”

Before you could finish your sentence, his lips crashed onto yours. Your eyes shot wide open at the shock of the situation. Bakugo Katsuki fucking kissed you... Bakugo Katsuki. The Bakugo Katsuki who always argued with you. The Bakugo Katsuki who always got on your nerves. THAT Bakugo Katsuki.

Taking you away from your thoughts, he pulled away from the kiss. He examined your face for your reaction, but you were frozen in place with your eyes shot wide open. You didn’t know what to do, as if you were a computer and you were going through some code that you weren’t programmed to handle. He looked away and scoffed at himself, mumbling.

“Of course, she didn’t fucking like that, idiot...” he mumbled.

His grip on you loosened and his hands were brought to his side and he couldn’t bear to look at you in the face again. Breaking from your frozen state, you focused your eyes on him. He pulled his face away from your point of view and was scratching his neck in embarrassment and you could notice the light blush spread on his cheeks. You felt a little tug on your heart that you’ve never felt before when looking at him. At that moment, he was just so freaking cute.

Mentally telling yourself that you’re gonna regret this later, you grabbed his face in your hands and pulled him closer to you again. Your lips locked with his and you closed your eyes to bask in the moment. Only this time, Bakugo’s eyes were shot wide open, but only for a second. Relief soon spread across his face and his eyes rested on your waist, pulling you closer.

Both of you guys wanted nothing more than to stay in that moment forever, the rivalry between you two completely non-existent. As all good things must come to an end, you pulled away from him and your eyes made contact for a second before you both looked away, blushing. Realization soon hit you and you didn’t know what to do next.

“I-”

“Uh-”

You guys stuttered at the same time, making eye contact for a second before looking away. The atmosphere between the two of you was confusing. Before you could think of another thing to say, he spoke up first.

“Good night,” he said.

He walked away swiftly and turned the corner to the hallway towards his dorm. You stood for a few seconds not knowing what to think. You released the breath that you didn’t realize you were holding in and proceeded to walk towards your dorm room. Leaving the kitchen a bit of a mess for the night.

The next day it was Kaminari who was blamed for leaving the paper towel on the floor and some spilled water on the counter. Poor boy.

Now, the relationship that you had with ‘blasty-boy’ would probably seem complicated and confusing in the eyes of others, but you two were pretty content with where you guys were at. There was an unspoken agreement that you would keep your relationship under wraps. You knew how Bakugo always tried to upkeep his ego of being the best. You’ve always assumed that he didn’t want anyone to know he had a soft spot for you. And you didn’t necessarily mind not sharing your relationship out in the open, anyway. I mean, you guys only just made your relationship official, but it was a little hard to keep your mouth shut when you desperately wanted to gush about him with the other girls of Class 1-A.

Although, you guys have managed to maintain the rivalry between you guys in front of the others. It’s not like you guys were faking it, though. Only now, you guys saw it as fun, meaningless banter and meant nothing by it. The few times that you’ve got to spend with Bakugo alone were completely different from when you would be with him as a group.

On one of your more recent dates, he invited you to watch a movie in his dorm room and he was so adamant about keeping you close to him throughout the movie. At one point in the night, you tried to get up to use the restroom real quick and his arm around your waist pulled you back down, making you fall onto his lap and you stared up at him. He ignored you and stared at the laptop screen.

“Uh... I need to go pee. Let me go, please?” you smiled up at him.

He gave you a glance and reverted his stare to the screen again, “No.”

“What do you mean no? I drank so much water because the popcorn was too salty... come on. You want me to pee on you or something?” you joked.

He laughed, “So, what if I do?”

You sat up and his gaze finally met yours and his signature smirk was plastered on his face.

You grabbed one of his pillows and hit him with it, “Ew, you’re so fucking gross! I’m going.”

He laughed and finally allowed you to leave, but rest assured, he snuggled up with you when you came back.

Right now, you were hanging with the rest of your class in the common room. On Fridays, you guys all agreed to a movie night after a long week of classes. You were sitting with the rest of the girls, settled between Momo and Mina. The movie hasn’t started yet since everyone was starting to get comfortable and settled in. A few of your classmates were grabbing popcorn and other snacks in the kitchen while the rest of you guys were just chatting. Somehow, the conversation between the girls evolved into talking about relationships.

“Oh my god! There was this really cute guy that I accidentally bumped into at lunch and apparently he’s a third-year! I hope I bump into him again, he was seriously cute,” gushed Mina.

“That’s so cute, Mina! I wish I had, like, ANY romantic interactions. My life’s so boring...” groaned Ochaco.

“Same,” said Hagakure.

The rest of the girls sort of nodded in agreement, but you just sat there sipping your juice pouch loudly.

“Y/n? You’re awfully quiet,” teased Tsu as she nudged you with her elbow.

“Well, I mean-”

“What are you ladies talking about over here, huh?” said Denki as he and the other boys inched closer to the girls to join their conversation.

Momo spoke up, “Seems like Y/n over here has a crush!”

You covered your face in embarrassment, “No I do not! It’s... uh... look we’re just... talking?”

Kirishima teased, “Awe so who’s the lucky individual?”

“Yeah, I wanna know who captured our Y/n’s heart,” laughed Sero.

“It’s no one...” you said after trying to recover after digging yourself in a deeper hole.

“Hey, Bakugo. How do you feel about Y/n’s new crush, huh? Maybe your love for her isn’t reciprocated after all...” started Kaminari before Bakugo stood from his seat on the couch and grabbed his shirt to intimidate him.

He growled, “I don’t have a crush on Y/n. How many times do I have to tell you idiots that?!”

“You’re just jealous that Y/n’s significant other is probably hotter than you!” laughed Mina.

Visibly annoyed at the situation, Bakugo walks away rolling his eyes and mumbling, “Tch. Can’t believe I go to school with a bunch of idiots...”

“Awe, can’t take it anymore? Your love for me is so strong that it pains you to listen to this conversation, huh, Bakugo?” you teased.

“Shut up. I’m going to the bathroom,” he said plainly.

The rest of your classmates on the couch got a laugh in before the topic of your potential significant other died down into smaller topics within different people. Those who were in the kitchen preparing the snacks for everyone finally came back and everyone was finding their seats around the TV and your boyfriend had yet to come back.

You pulled out your phone to text him and right as you did, Iida turned off the lights.

“Yo, Y/n. Turn off your phone it’s too bright and the movie’s about to start,” nudged Mina.

You apologized, “Sorry. I’ll turn it off in a minute I just need to text someone.”

You pulled up your boyfriend’s text log and typed in a message for him:

yo blasty boy why arent u back from the bathroom the movies starting

...also i saved u a seat next to me so we can cuddle (lowkey of course hehe)

After sending those two messages, you put away your phone in your pocket. Everyone was concentrated on the movie and you set your attention on the TV screen until...

PING PING

A phone on the coffee table lit up brightly while making two loud notification pings. Everyone lost focus on the movie and looked over at the phone on the table. No doubt that it was your grandpa of a boyfriend’s phone pinging. Before you could do something, Kirishima grabbed it.

“Who the hell didn’t turn off their ringer? And why is it so damn loud..” laughed Sero.

Kirishima’s eyes scanned his phone for a quick second before his eyes widened and he covered his mouth in surprise.

“Holy shit! Bakugo has a girlfriend!” yelled Kirishima.

You couldn’t help but cover your face in your blanket... Bakugo was about to be so mad at you. Your secret would be out and honestly, you were glad, but you know that your boyfriend didn’t want anyone to find out anytime soon. At least, not like this.

Everyone turned to Kirishima, suddenly losing interest in the movie playing in front of them.

“Oh my god, you’re joking!” squealed Yaoyorozu.

Ojiro claimed, “There’s no way that Bakugo has a girlfriend. Not that hothead.”

“Bro, I’m not joking! And guess what... it’s someone in this room!” exclaimed Kirishima.

Everyone starts looking around the class, silently accusing their classmates of being the culprit.

“Look what they said: ‘also i saved u a seat next to me so we can cuddle‘! Someone better start speaking upppppp!” said Kaminari teasingly as he got the phone from the red-haired boy.

“So, who is it?” grinned Ochako.

Sero peeked at the phone in Kirishima’s hands, “There’s no name, it just says ‘dumbass’. That’s so like Bakugo.”

You sighed in relief. You didn’t know that Bakugo didn’t have your contact as your actual name.

“G-guys! I don’t think Kacchan would want us to go through his phone...” protested Midoriya.

“Midoriya is right! This is not respectful behavior, we should respect our classmate’s privacy,” Iida said matter-of-factly.

Kaminari replied, “Aw, come on you guys are no fun! It’s harmless, anyway! If it really is someone in our class, we were bound to find out! It’s inevitable!”

You grab the phone from him and said, “Wow, Kaminari, I didn’t know you had the vocabulary capacity for the word inevitable! Now, let me see this...”

Lo and behold, your messages were shown on the screen under the name ‘dumbass’. You tried to analyze the situation and how you could use this small sliver of anonymity to your advantage. You concluded that just trying to play off the situation would be the best thing to do-

“Woah, woah, woah. What’s that as Bakugo’s wallpaper?” said Mina as she slowly grabbed the phone from your hands.

Right then, a horror scene played out right in front of your eyes. As everyone was standing crowded around the phone (whether they agreed with peering through your boyfriend’s phone or not), they were looking at the brightly-lit device in the pink girl’s hands and she deleted the notifications to show his very-telling wallpaper… you could say there was a slight miscalculation in your plan as you failed to notice earlier that his wallpaper was the two of you... making out.

You couldn’t bear to look at what was on his phone as everyone let out their gasps. It was too embarrassing, everyone seeing such an intimate moment on your boyfriend’s phone. Bakugo had taken that picture on a whim one night when you two were having one of your movie nights. When he did that, you were shocked because there was no way that Bakugo took pictures of himself ever. Honestly, you were shocked to see that he knew how to take a selfie. Nonetheless, you peeked through your fingers at the phone in Mina’s hand just for a bit.

To your surprise, he set the wallpaper to LIVE MODE. Live mode...... Everyone was watching you guys make out in action like it was a fucking movie.

That motherfucker...

The silence of realization was then disrupted as the girls let out their squeals and the whole class was causing a commotion while the boys high-fived each other as if they won a competition or something. Everyone was up and moving, a strong contrast from them mere minutes ago when they were lounging around on the couch and floor. Sero was shaking your shoulders as you covered your face in your hands. Your face was heating up from all the embarrassment and you couldn’t bear to look at any of your classmates after what they just witnessed.

You didn’t know what to think. Half of you were completely embarrassed that your friends just saw you in an embarrassing scenario and half of you were angry at Bakugo because this was all his fault! Who the fuck puts such an intimate moment as their wallpaper?! Why not something cute? And of course, it had to be a live photo…

You finally peered through your hands again to see the scene in front of you. Mina was laughing so hard on the couch that she was on the verge of tears.

“I CAN’T BREATHE! NEVER IN A MILLION YEARS WOULD I EVER EXPECT THIS SHIT!” she cried.

Most of the boys were still jumping up and down like some monkeys due to the sheer excitement and energy in the room. Uraraka walked up to you and smiled widely while placing her hands firmly on your shoulders.

“Wow! Who would’ve thought that you and Bakugo were a thing! I honestly didn’t see that coming… sorry that we all had to find out that way. I was a little too absorbed in the excitement to consider how you felt,” said the round-faced girl.

With your face still red, you said, “Don’t worry about it… it was bound to happen soon enough, right? Although, now I’m a little embarrassed, but I guess I’m kind of relieved that I don’t have to put much effort into hiding our relationship anymore.”

Yaoyorozu chimed in, “Honestly, this is more entertaining than the movie we were just watching!”

You laughed along with the other girls who were nearby. On the other side of the room, the boys were making a train throughout the room and singing.

“Uh, y/n,” interrupted Asui, “Look.”

The man-of-the-hour walked in the room with his hands in his pockets with his usual grumpy expression. He stopped to examine the room and stared quietly at the energetic group of boys.

He scoffed, “What are you nerds doing? Why aren’t you guys watching the fucking movie, huh?”

He looked around the room until his eyes met yours and you quickly looked away, which caught his attention. Your mind was racing a mile a minute trying to think of an excuse. Your gaze averted to the ground, but you could hear his footsteps heading your way.

“Since when did your socks suddenly get so interesting that you can’t look me in the eyes?” teased Bakugo.

He brought his hand up to your chin and lifted your face to meet his gaze. His playful smirk instantly dropped once he saw your expression. Your eyes were borderline teary and seemed lost, like a sad puppy.

He whispered so that only you could hear, “Baby… what’s up?”

You wanted to give in to his touch at that very moment and run into his arms, but you resisted because you knew that it would be too selfish given how you just broke your guys’ agreement. You didn’t deserve to be in his embrace right now, he was seconds away from finding out that your guys’ secret came out accidentally all because you sent a random text. You pulled your face away from his grip and moved away from him.

“W-wait, what-” he started.

“HEYYYYYYYYYYY, BAKUBRO!” said Kaminari and he wrapped an arm around him (much to Bakugo’s dismay), “How come you didn’t tell your buddies that you had a soft side to you, huh?”

Bakugo grunted, “What the fuck are you going on about?”

Kirishima chimed, “You know, you shouldn’t leave your phone out in the open like that… it makes you vulnerable!”

Still confused he said, ”Did worms get in your brains? We’ve been only one day off from school and you start lacking common sense?”

To his surprise, you walk up with his phone in your hand while keeping eye contact, unlike earlier.

“Sherlock, I thought you would’ve connected the dots by now,” you sighed, with a tinge of sadness behind it, “Your wallpaper… really?”

You hold up the phone up to his face and his reaction was almost humorous to you. His eyes widened and his face was painted with a light tint of pink.

For the first time in your life, you witnessed your boyfriend at a loss for words. The rest of your class watched the whole interaction and some restrained laughs were let out and they were all back to square one, laughing like maniacs. You were about to join in and laugh with them when you realized again what the situation at hand was. You were scared of how Bakugo would react since this would be the first rift in your relationship and you didn’t want to have a genuine argument with him, especially with how angry he could get. Suddenly, you felt a pair of hands grasp yours and you look up to see your boyfriend smiling at you.

“I-”

Before you could say a single word, he hauls you on his shoulder, and you yelp in surprise. You don’t know how you ended up in this position, but now you’re dangling off of him and now you’re staring at the ground. (Also, his face was dangerously close to your ass, but you didn’t mention it.) He starts walking away and away from the commotion towards his dorm room. Before you can protest, he leans his head on your body causing you to freeze up. You could feel his warmth from his body heat against your shirt.

“You know… I’m not mad at you. I could never be mad at you,” he says quietly.

Your brain took time to process that sentence… was Bakugo actually not mad? Most importantly, who knew such sweet words could come out of his mouth? You couldn’t help but breathe out a sigh of relief and you relaxed a bit.

Wanting to tease him, you said, “Sorry, you were too quiet. Could you repeat that again?”

He groaned, “I said… I’m not mad at you, I could never be.”

You giggled, “I know. I heard you the first time, but I thought my ears were deceiving me… Katsuki Bakugo is saying something nice for once? Whatttt…”

He shook you a little, “Forget it. You didn’t hear anything.”

Raising yourself a little, you patted your boyfriend on the head, “Nope. Remembering that phrase forever and ever.”

“Whatever.”

You smiled, “Whatever!”

2K notes · View notes

tobesolonely · 4 years

Text

apartment 41

hi y’all! this is my very VERY late submission for @meetmeinfleetwood ‘s “To Lovers” challenge (thank u miss sadie for even still accepting this LOL) but here is some good ol fashioned strangers to lovers with the line, “will you stay the night?” . :D enjoy everyone!

warnings: mentions of alcohol, intoxication, smut :)

word count: ~5.2k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

There were many things you loved about living on your own. You loved that your apartment was always clean. You loved that at the end of a long day, you could come back and brood in peace. You loved walking around in nothing but your underwear without the fear of anyone seeing you. You did things when you wanted, how you wanted. As a self-proclaimed introvert, there was nothing you loved more than living by yourself.

However, during slightly inconvenient moments like these, you wished you had someone else in the apartment with you.

You swore you’d been trying to get your favorite jar of pasta sauce open for at least the past ten minutes. It had been a long day at work, and at the moment all you wanted to do was heat the entire jar of sauce, boil a bunch of pasta, and call it a night. You were growing beyond frustrated–– you even contemplated just breaking the jar open. Ultimately, you decided against it lest you be met with a mouthful of glass.

Feeling defeated, you pick up your phone in frustration and hurriedly punch in your father’s number. The phone rings twice before he answers. “Hello? What’s up, hun?”

“Dad, what should I do if I can’t get this jar open? Like, it’s seriously glued shut,” you set it down on the counter probably a little too hard considering it was a glass jar. “I’m so hungry.”

“Did you try running it under hot water?”

You did.

“Hm. Try getting a good grip on it with a dish towel or something?”

Of course, you did.

“Well, I’m not driving over there just to open a jar for you,” your dad pauses. “You have neighbors, don’t you? Why don’t you knock on one of their doors?”

“Isn’t that weird?”

“No weirder than asking to borrow a cup of sugar.”

You thank your dad for the suggestion and hang up with him shortly after. He was right. You just needed someone to quickly open the jar for you and then you’d be back in your apartment, secluded from society until the next morning when you went into work. Besides, you’d been in your apartment for roughly three months now and you didn’t have a relationship with any of your neighbors. You figured now was as good a time as any to at least meet the person who lived directly across from you.

You slide on your slippers and clear the few steps it takes to reach your neighbor’s door. A faded ‘41’ was on their door, and a cheeky mat that read, ‘Did you call first?’ was at your feet.

You tried racking your brain for any memory of what your neighbor may look like, but you were drawing a blank. You were more to yourself than you initially thought you were and made a silent vow to become more social from this point on. You situate the jar of pasta sauce under your arm before placing two firm knocks against the door. Moments later, the door is flung open and you’re met with the smell of something delicious cooking, and a handsome, tall man donning a dirty apron.

“Hi, is everything alright?” he has a concerned look on his face as he looks over the top of your head and into your apartment.

“I— This is a little embarrassing,” you mumble, feeling your body grow warm. “I live by myself and I’ve been trying to get this jar of pasta sauce open for at least twenty minutes and I can’t. Do you think you can?”

His mouth slowly turns upwards into a smile before finally nodding, reaching out his hand to grab the jar of pasta sauce from you. “It’s pasta night at your place too, hmm?” His tongue is poked out of the corner of his mouth as he focuses on the task at hand.

“Yeah,” you reply. “I’m just gonna heat up the entire jar of sauce, boil some spaghetti noodles, and call it a night.”

The pop! of the jar causes you to jump slightly. “That doesn’t sound like very good pasta.”

You retrieve the pasta sauce from him, quietly thanking him. “It gets the job done.”

Your neighbor hums in agreement. “‘M sure it does. If you ever wanna taste some really good pasta though, y’know where I’ll be.”

“I do,” you nod. “Well, thank you again. I’ll let you go back to making your pasta sauce that is just way better than mine.”

He lets out a loud laugh. “I appreciate it. It wasn’t any problem at all, I’m here most evenings if you ever need help opening anything else, uh…” He trails off.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N. Beautiful name. I’m Harry, by the way.”

You look down at the dirty hallway carpet, a wide smile on your face. “Thank you, Harry. It was nice to finally meet you, by the way.”

“You too. Have a good night.”

You give him one more smile before turning on your heels and walking back inside your apartment, gently shutting the door. You quickly look out the peephole and catch him just as he’s closing his door, a dimpled-grin on his face.

It was Friday night when you finally got the chance to speak with him again. You were sitting on your kitchen stool nursing a glass of wine and waiting for your frozen pizza to heat in the oven when you heard someone coming down the hallway. As you had been doing all week since your interaction with Harry, you set your glass of wine down and shuffle over to your peephole, eyes scanning the small amount of hallway that was visible.

Harry comes into view seconds later, four overflowing bags of groceries precariously balanced along the length of his arms.

“Fuck.” You hear him mutter to himself. He attempts to reach in his pocket for his keys but once he realizes he can’t do so without setting at least one bag of groceries down, he lets out a loud huff in what you assume to be annoyance. You scuttle to your shoe rack and slip your shoes on before quickly flinging your door open.

“Hi! Need help?”

Harry jumps and you both watch as the contents of the bag he was getting ready to set down spill at his feet. “Now I do,” he’s already picking his groceries off the floor. “You scared the shit out of me. Also, were you watching me?”

Your face grows warm. “I heard someone coming down the hallway so I wanted to see who it was.”

“Oh, really?” Harry questions, pausing to look up at you. “You came out of your place so quickly, felt like I was bein’ watched or something.”

You know he’s teasing you but you can’t help but feel a little embarrassed that he caught onto what you were doing so quickly. Instead of dignifying his statement with an answer, you bend down and begin helping him pick up his spilled groceries. His hand grazes yours lightly as you both reach for a can of black beans, now slightly dented. It lingers for a moment before he retracts it to retrieve a different item. A quick, side-eyed glance reveals that his cheeks are tinged red.

“What are you making for dinner?” You ask him, standing up and dusting off the knees of your leggings.

“Uh, veggie chili. S’one of my favorites–– hey, is something burning?”

Your eyes widen and you abruptly turn away from Harry without so much as a goodbye, hurrying toward your kitchen that was starting to grow foggy from smoke produced by your oven. You were so preoccupied with helping Harry gather up his spilled groceries that you had totally forgotten you had a frozen pizza in the oven and if the smell was any indication of its current state, it was most likely inedible at this point.

Reaching for the oven mitt you kept next to the knives on the counter, you open the oven and fan the smoke out of your face, holding back a gag from the burnt smell. Your fire alarm immediately goes off once you open the oven and Harry appears a second later, a concerned look on his face. He looks around for your smoke detector and once he sees it he stands on his tiptoes to turn it off. You set your now blackened pizza on top of the oven and turn on the microwave fan. Harry’s already opening windows around your apartment, fanning the air with a throw pillow from your couch.

“Thanks,” you mumble, a wave of embarrassment washing over your body. You feared that Harry probably thought you were the most incompetent person on this planet–– first, you couldn’t get a jar open, and now here you are nearly setting your apartment on fire. “Guess I should’ve set a timer, huh?”

“Yeah, ‘spose you should’ve,” he replies. “It’s okay, though. ‘M about to get started on dinner, you can join me? If you’d like, that is. Maybe you’ll have a new recipe so you can stop eatin’ all this frozen shit.”

“Leave my frozen foods out of this,” you playfully scold him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Thank you for the invite though, that would be great, actually. I’m gonna get this cleaned up and then I’ll be right over?”

“Sounds good,” he neatly situates your pillow back on the couch. “I’ll see you in a bit, Y/N. Door will be unlocked.”

Once Harry’s gone, you move into action, quickly tossing the pizza into the trashcan before running to your bathroom. You try to remember if you brushed your teeth earlier that day but you can’t, so you brush them again just to be safe. You hastily examine yourself in the mirror before deciding you weren’t going to do anything more, not wanting to come off as trying too hard. You were almost one hundred percent certain Harry was just being neighborly–– nothing indicated that he found you attractive, so you didn’t want to make it too obvious that you found him to be the most stunning man you’ve ever seen in your life.

Locking your door, you clear the distance from your welcome mat to his in five steps flat, and take a deep breath before letting yourself in.

It didn’t take long for you to realize that Harry had more skill in the kitchen than an everyday home-chef did. He all but floated around the room, chopping with ease and finesse. The two of you had settled into a comfortable silence as he worked and you watched. Billy Joel played softly over his Bluetooth speaker, and he’d occasionally stop what he was doing to take a sip of his wine and look over his shoulder at you, almost as if he was checking if you were still there because you were being so quiet.

Your head was starting to grow fuzzy as you finished your third glass of wine that night, so you make the (responsible) decision to cut yourself off for the night. “Can I have a glass of water?”

“Course y’can,” he replies quietly, not stopping what he was doing. “Give me just a second and I’ll get ya––”

“Oh, I can get it myself. Just tell me where the cups are.”

Harry stops chopping and turns completely to face you, an amused look on his face. “You’re plastered, aren’t ya?”

“No? Why do you think that?”

Harry laughs. “You can’t hear yourself stumblin’ over your words, but I can. Jus’ stay right there and I’ll get your water. You want ice?”

“How do you know how to cook so well?”

“Culinary school,” he responds coolly. “Ice?”

You’re not sure if you are as drunk as Harry says you are, but you were currently finding the fact that Harry went to culinary school the coolest thing ever. “A chef? No way! What kind of chef?”

“I’m a Sous Chef. Gonna give ya a bit of ice.”

“I can’t believe I live across from a chef! No wonder you were giving me shit for eating canned pasta sauce,” you take the glass of water from Harry’s outstretched hand, thanking him. “Even your water tastes better than mine!”

“I think you’re just pissed, Y/N,” Harry responds, eyes crinkled from smiling. “Do y’like cooked carrots?” Your nose wrinkles in response to Harry’s question and he mutters something about how he’ll leave them out before turning back towards the stove to check on his food.

“How old are you, Harry?”

“Just turned twenty-seven. Yourself?”

“I’m twenty-four!” You exclaim, a little too excited. “Where are you from?”

He turns to look at you, eyebrow raised. “England. What gave it away?”

“Your accent.”

He hums, a small smirk on his lips. “Where are you from?”

“I’m from here. Just moved back home from my college town but didn’t wanna move back in with my parents, so here I am.”

“No roommates, you said?”

“Nope,” you pop the ‘p’, taking a big gulp of water. “You don’t either, do you? I just realized I haven’t heard or seen anyone else since I’ve been here.”

“I do not. I had a roommate when I first moved in but he ended up gettin’ engaged and moving in with his fiancée, so it’s just me for now. I think I like livin’ on my own better, though.” You watch as Harry reaches into his cabinet and retrieves two bowls and starts spooning your dinner into them. He sets the bowl in front of you and hands you a spoon, nodding at you to try it.

You bring a spoonful up to your mouth, blowing a few times before shoving it into your mouth. Your eyes widen at the amazing flavor that fills your mouth, and your eyes diverge to his. “This is incredible!”

Harry looks down at his bowl of food, a shy grin on his face. “Thanks, Y/N. Glad you like it.” He grabs his glass of wine from behind him and moves around to the other side of the island to sit next to you.

“Are you a vegetarian?” You ask, mouth full.

“Somewhat. I’m a pescatarian,” he shovels a spoonful of the chili into his mouth. “More wine?”

“I better not,” you reply, mind still fuzzy from all you’ve drunk throughout the night. “This is seriously so good, Harry. You’re cute, you can cook, you’re nice… you’re like, a triple threat!”

“Callin’ me cute?”

“C’mon, you know you are,” you answer boldly. “I’m just stating the obvious.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” he takes a sip of wine. “You’re a pretty big looker yourself.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“You flirted with me first.”

“So what if I did?”

Harry lets out a quiet scoff, going back to eating his food. After a moment he says, “I wouldn’t mind.” You smile to yourself and continue eating, bringing the bowl up to your lips and tipping your head back so you could get every last drop of Harry’s veggie chili. He gets up to get another helping of food as you get up to place your bowl in the sink, lifting your sleeves to wash it.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says as he brushes past you, going back to where he was previously seated. “I’ll clean up later. Do y’want some dessert?”

“I think I will take some more wine,” you grab the bottle from the center of the island along with your glass, pouring a generous amount. “This is good. Nothing like the cheap bottles I get from Target.”

“I’m glad you like it. Thought I’d pull this one out tonight, always pairs well with dishes like this…” He trails off. “Anyway, yeah. Glad y’like it.”

You and Harry finish off the bottle of wine no more than thirty minutes later, having by now situated yourselves on his couch. He turned something onto the television (you think it was Iron Chef), but neither one of you were paying any attention to it. Harry was asking about what you studied in college, how you like your current career and your favorite things to do in your free time. You were asking him about England, his family back home, and why he chose to go to culinary school.

He has a way about him that captivates you— just completely pulls you in— and you never want to stop listening to him speak. Harry leans close to you when you talk, almost as if you’re telling him a secret that he doesn’t want to miss out on.

“I think ‘m jus’ as drunk as you are now,” Harry whispers, letting out an adorable giggle. “Goin’ into work tomorrow is gonna be a proper pain.”

“No one told you to try and outdrink me!” You yell, tucking your knees under your bottom. “Now we’re both drunk, what good does that do?”

“Think it’s more fun this way, don’t you?” Harry lets out a little burp, his face flushing. “Wanna help me clean the kitchen?”

“What happened to cleaning it later?” You stand up from the couch, wobbling slightly before catching your balance.

“Well, I didn’t think we’d get drunk off our arses and sit here talkin’ til one in the mornin’, did you?” He stands up as well, his hand moving to rest on the small of your back as he scooches past you.

“There’s no way it’s that late,” you retort, checking the time on your phone. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to overextend my stay. I’ll help you clean this place up and then get going.”

Harry swats a hand in front of his face, shaking his head. “Overextend your stay? Of course y’didn’t, more than happy to have you here. Do you wanna wash or dry?”

“I’ll wash since I don’t know where anything goes.” You move to the sink and roll up your sleeves, moving the small number of dishes in the sink all to one side so you can fill the other side with water. Silence falls over you again as you clean the dishes from dinner and soon enough you’re done, drying your hands on your t-shirt.

“Thank you, Y/N. We make a good team, huh? Got that done quickly, didn’t we?” He folds the dishtowel in half neatly and hangs it over the handle of his oven.

“Yeah,” you yawn, slipping on your shoes that had been discarded earlier in the night by the door. “I’ll get out your hair and let you get to bed, then. Thank you for having me over and for cooking that delicious dinner, I enjoyed it. I owe you.”

“If it’s frozen food, don’t worry about it,” he jokes, moving to open the door for you. “If you want to cook me something, though…”

“How about I take you out for dinner? I stay out of the kitchen, and you’ll get something edible and halfway decent. A win-win?”

Harry laughs. “‘M lookin’ forward to it. Goodnight, Y/N.”

“I couldn’t decide between Italian or sushi but since you’re a pescetarian, I figured sushi was our best bet.”

Harry looks away from the menu and at you, clearing his throat before speaking. “That was really thoughtful. Surprised you remembered considering how loaded you were.”

“For the last time, I was not that drunk,” you defend yourself, gently kicking his calf from underneath the table. “By the end of the night, you had way more than me!”

“Maybe so,” he replies nonchalantly, looking back at the menu. “Let’s not forget who can handle their alcohol better, though.”

You let out an indignant hmph, and get to scouring the menu yourself. You didn’t eat sushi very often so you figured you’d probably just get whatever Harry got.

“Let’s do sake bombs.”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “Sake bombs? Are you tryin’ to get me drunk again?”

“They’re fun! Just one?”

Harry shakes his head at you and grins before waving over the waitress, asking her politely for two sake bombs. She comes back a few minutes later with the alcohol and chopsticks balanced precariously on a tray, setting them in front of you and Harry respectively.

The waitress stands back and says, “Ichi… ni… san… sake bomb!” The two of you pound the table until your shot glasses fall into the cup and then you throw your heads back, chugging down the cocktail. When you finally finish chugging your drink and look back up at Harry, he’s staring at his watch as if he’s been waiting for you to finish for ages.

“Oh, you’re finally done? I was startin’ to grow old,” he teases, taking a sip of his water. “Do you know what you wanna order?”

“You’re annoying,” you reply, narrowing your eyes at him. “But I’m gonna get whatever you get.”

“Really? You don’t have any preferences?”

You shake your head. “I don’t eat sushi very often so I honestly don’t know what I should get. I’ll try anything, though.”

“You really did pick this place just for me, didn’t you?” He has a teasing tone to his voice, but his gaze has softened.

“I told you I owed you, didn’t I?”

At this, Harry just gives you a small smirk and signals the waitress over once again to order for the both of you. While you wait for your food to come, you fall into easy conversation with Harry again. It seems like you can talk about anything under the sun with him–– no topic was off-limits, and nothing was awkward. He had to have been one of the most interesting people you’ve ever met in your life. He was well-traveled, knew several languages, and loved to sing and write music in his spare time. Although you felt your own life was rather boring in comparison to his, he made you feel just as accomplished and interesting as he was.

“That was good,” he tells you after you’ve both finished eating, wiping his mouth with his napkin and slouching in his chair slightly. “Think ‘m gonna need to unbutton my pants here in a second.”

“Me too,” you answer with a laugh, making eye contact with the waitress. You mouth, ‘check, please’ and she nods, reappearing at your table with the check. As you’re digging in your purse to pull out your wallet, Harry reaches over and grabs the check before you can even look at it. He reaches in his pants pocket for his wallet and slides his card in before you’ve even looked back up.

“What are you doing?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Did you forget that I’m the one that owes you?” He shrugs.

“You can make it up to me another way. Don’t worry about it,” his voice is low and gravelly. The waitress comes back to collect the check from Harry and after he receives his receipt, he reaches into his wallet to place a cash tip for her on the table. “Ready to get home?”

Home. You know he only worded it that way because you live directly across from him, but you would like going “home home” with Harry, at least for tonight. There was no denying the sexual tension between the two of you was electric–– anyone who was paying attention to the two of you could probably sense it. You wordlessly nod and follow Harry out of the restaurant, intertwining your fingers with his when he holds his hand back for you to grab.

He stands on the curb and expertly hauls a cab, opening the door and gesturing your in ahead of him. Harry’s hand moves to rest on your leg as he makes small-talk with the taxi driver, asking him if he was having a busy night and how much longer he thought he’d be out for. Harry pays the cab fare and wishes the driver a good rest of his night before all but dragging you out of the taxi.

“What’s got you in such a rush?” You ask Harry, a teasing

“Oh? Did I misread the situation? I thought–– this is embarrassing, never mind…” his tight grip loosens on your hand but you pull him back into you, laughing at how adorable he was.

“Harry! I’m joking, I know what’s going on,” you rub your thumb across the top of his. “I was just messing with you.” You see him visibly let out a sigh of relief.

“Don’t mess with me like that, Y/N!” You’re still standing outside of your apartment complex in the dark, as close to one another as you can be without completely melting into each other. He releases his hand from your tight grip and places it gently on your face instead. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

“Please,” you reply breathlessly, standing on your toes. Harry cranes his neck to meet your lips and presses them to yours softly, pulling back only when the both of you are near gasping for air.

“Was that nice?” He asks, thumb caressing your face. Your noses are pressed together and you just nod, still too breathless to speak. “Maybe we can take this inside, then?”

Once inside Harry’s apartment, he nearly rips off the new shirt you bought specifically for your date with him, discarding it by his door.

“Careful with that,” you mutter, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I just got that today. Tag is still onnit.”

You feel Harry laugh into the side of your neck, walking your backward towards his couch. “I’ll cover the cost if it’s ruined then, how’s tha’?”

Harry sucks harshly on your neck, causing you to let out a low moan. “I guess that’s fine.”

“That’s fine?” Harry mocks you, guiding you onto the coach. You hum in agreement as you sink further down into the couch, letting out a sigh of bliss as he peppered kisses along your breast.

Your movements are needy— desperate. Neither one of you were trying to hide how badly you wanted to fuck the other. Harry smashing his lips onto yours once more, his breath warm and tongue salty from all the sushi he had earlier consumed. He attempts to pull his own shirt from his body while not breaking the kiss, and you let out a satisfied hum when he succeeds. Now you’re both shirtless and the only thing stopping you from fucking each other proper is being still fully clothed on your bottom halves.

“Can we get these off?” You ask, tugging at your own bottoms. Harry helps you pull down your tight jeans, struggling slightly to get them off your sweaty legs. Once your jeans are off your underwear follows immediately after, carelessly strewn around the room like the rest of your clothing.

“Y/N…” Harry hungrily takes the sight of your body in, eyes darkening with lust. “You might be the death of me, did ya know that?”

“I do now.”

He sucks on his index and middle fingers and lowers them down to your core, slipping them inside you with ease. You hadn’t realized how wet you were until Harry was knuckles deep, curling his fingers tantalizingly slow inside of you. “Do ya?”

You bite down hard on your lip, nodding at Harry’s rhetorical question. “Obviously.”

He flips the two of you over, so that you’re now straddling him and he’s laying below you. “Take what you want, then–– oh wait, condom?” You nod and move as Harry digs around in his pants, pulling out his wallet.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys that keeps a condom in their wallet.”

He rips it open with his teeth in one swift motion and unbuckles his pants, giving himself a couple of quick strokes before sliding it on. “What if I am? Was quick and effective, wasn’t it?” He rests his hands on your hips and pulls you back on top of him, connecting his lips with yours again. “Now you can take what you want.”

Your hands move up to grip Harry’s shoulders as you slowly sink onto him, wincing at the stretch and burn an unfamiliar partner sometimes brings. You make eye contact with Harry as you take a moment to adjust to his size, noting how his grip on your hips gets even tighter.

“S’big,” you mutter, rolling your hips slightly. Below you, Harry squeezes his eyes shut. “So big.”

“Tell me how badly you want it.”

“You already know. Don’t feel like being teased.”

Harry juts his hips up to meet you slamming down onto him, groaning out loudly from the pleasure the added motion brings. At one point he situates himself so he’s sitting straight up, using his left hand as a support for him to rest back on while his right hand is tweaking at your nipples. He’s letting out a slew of curse words, letting you know it felt just as good for him as it did for you.

“Ridin’ m’cock so good,” he says under his breath, bringing the hand that was playing with your nipples to rest in between your legs. Whenever you slam back onto him you feel him not only deep in the pit of your stomach but also on your clit, bringing you maximum pleasure. “Don’t be so quiet, let me know when ‘m makin’ you feel good, love.”

“I’m already close,” you admit, feeling a bit embarrassed at how it took Harry doing next to nothing to work an orgasm out of you. Well, not literally–– but it felt like it. “Feel s’good inside me, you’re so big.”

Harry lets out a low moan from your words, throwing his head back in pleasure. It hits the arm of his couch with a quiet thump but his pace doesn’t falter in the slightest. “You’re gonna make me cum if ya keep strokin’ my ego like that.”

“You asked for it,” you reply, changing your move from riding to grinding as you were starting to grow fatigued. “I’m close.” You remove your hands from his shoulders and let them roam the expanse of your body, wanting nothing more than to receive maximum pleasure.

“Can feel ya squeezin’ ‘round me,” Harry says, taking his lip in between his teeth. “Know you’re about to come, pet.”

"Harry..." you warn, your movements growing more desperate and sloppy. You weren't normally a selfish lover but your head was so clouded from pleasure, all you could think about at the moment was your release. Harry leans his head back on the couch again and now uses his two free hands to bring you to orgasm–– one is rubbing circles on your clit and the other one is gripping at your breasts as you use your last bit of strength to swivel your hips on him.

You're coming undone not ten seconds later, loudly moaning out the man's name who laid under you. You don't slow your movements, knowing he was right behind you.

"Y/N, fuck, 'm gonna come-" he lets out a low, guttural moan, coming immediately after announcing it.

The sounds of you trying to steady your breathing are the only sounds that fills the room as you both come down from your respective highs. Harry runs his hands along your bare body, eyes hooded from the orgasm that just wracked his body. As you’re beginning to uncurl yourself from Harry, he grabs your hand, pulling you back down.

“Will you stay the night?”

You didn’t know what sleeping with Harry meant for your relationship going forward, but you were glad you knocked on Apartment 41.

#harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #apartment 41 #thanks for reading!

2K notes · View notes

autumnscribbles · 3 years

Text

cheap wine | b.s

requested by anon! (thank you i love this!!)

summary: y/n’s friend brad is jealous of her friendship with colby brock, leading to one night where he can’t keep it to himself anymore

word count: 1.8k

warnings: little bit of suggestive language, i wrote smut but it was really bad and i hated it so i adjusted LOL

a/n: i finally managed to write a long dish imagine!! i love me some jealous brad :) keep sending requests, i love them! i hope you enjoyed, i had fun wiring this one

Brad sat on the couch across from you, eyes boring into Colby as he tickled you on the black couch of your apartment. You had invited some friends over for drinks, movies and board games, just wanting a chill night with your friends. It was a nice change of pace from the LA parties you both always ended up at.

Brad, hoever, was hoping that Colby wasn’t going to show up today. Of course, he did, being your best friend. Brad’s jealousy seemed to course through his veins, plastering on a fake grin every time your eyes managed to catch his.

You squealed as Colby picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he ran around the room, your giggles and shrieks filling the room, everyone else laughing along except Brad. He wanted to be the one to get those laughs out of you, and he didn’t know why he suddenly cared so much.

He had seen you with Colby many times, assuming you had feelings for him, or that Colby had feelings for you. When he found out from a third party that it wasn’t in fact true, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of joy. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint when these feelings began, but now they were full throttle, and Brad had a difficult time ignoring them. Pretending they didn’t exist seemingly just wasn’t working anymore.

Brad stood up, asking Connor who was also invited if he wanted to go grab a drink. Connor agreed and both boys made their way to your kitchen, pouring themselves glasses of cheap wine from the bottles you had laid out across the kitchen island. Brad downed his fast, wanting to forget the feelings he had for you and the jealousy he felt watching you with Colby.

“Woah, mate,” Connor laughed. “You okay?”

Brad downed the drink, beginning to pour another one before answering Connor’s concerns.

“Fine,” he muttered.

“It’s y/n and Colby, isn't it?” Connor inquired, despite already knowing the answer to his question.

“No,” Brad lied. “She can do what she wants, I don’t own her. I just have a hard time believing that Colby doesn’t have feelings for her.”

“I don’t know,” Connor shrugged. “They are really good friends.”

“Whatever,” Brad shrugged. “I have no right to be jealous.”

Brad and Connor grabbed their wine glasses, heading back out to the living room, plopping back down on the couch.

Your eyes caught his, quickly standing up to go sit next to him after realizing you hadn’t spoken much since he got here. Brad had been more quiet than usual, almost like he was avoiding you.

“Hey,” you smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder quickly.

“Hey,” he replied, putting a smile on.

“Already almost done?” you asked, eyeing his wine glass.

“Yeah,” Brad chuckled. “I guess I’m going a bit fast aren’t I?”

“Nonsense,” you guffawed, waving him off before taking his glass, offering to go refill it at the same time you were going to refill yours.

As you made your way to the kitchen, Colby followed, skipping happily alongside you. You looked back at Brad, noticing the unhappy look on his face yet again, unsure where it was coming from. Colby noticed you staring, nudging you back to attention as you began pouring the wine into the glasses. Despite the fact that you could afford better alcohol, you liked to stick to your cheap wine, it always made you happy.

“What’s up?” Colby asked, realizing right away something was off in that moment.

“Nothing,” you shrugged. “Brad’s just acting weird.”

“A little, yeah,” Colby shrugged. “Probably because he’s into you.”

“He is not,” you protested, unable to hide the smile creeping onto your face.

“He totally is,” Colby insisted. “And you’re totally into him.”

“I’m not, Colby,” you said, pushing him lightly, making him stumble backwards slightly, already feeling a slight buzz.

Despite your protests, Colby was right. You had developed feelings for Brad. Everyone always assumed you liked Colby that way, but you didn’t. Ever since you met Brad, you found yourself always thinking about him, wondering what it would be like if you two were together. Sometimes you convinced yourself he had feelings for you too, but your tendency to overthink made you second guess it. He was hard to read, and you weren’t very good at reading people.

“Keep lying to yourself,” Colby said, clinking his glass against yours before sipping it.

You sighed, grabbing yours and Brad’s glass and heading back out to hand it to him, feeling yourself loosen up with each sip.

The night carried on, you pulling out the Twister mat for everyone to play. Everyone was already drunk enough that they were all excited about it, friendly competition already starting. After most people lasting a long time, it was just you and Colby left. Your friendship had consisted of many twister games, both of your competitive natures surging.

Brad watched as both of you got tangled in each other, his head foggy from the wine. He had lost track of how much he had already, but it was a lot, and he was starting to accept his thoughts of you rather than pushing them away.

Colby finally crashed to the floor, you screaming excitedly despite knowing all along you would win. You jumped up and down, pointing at Colby and jokingly calling him a loser.

“We get it,” he groaned. “You’re the best at twister.”

“We know,” you grinned, helping him up off the ground. “I’m gonna go pee now.”

You downed the rest of the wine in your glass, planning on refilling it after you went to the bathroom, heading down the hall towards it. Someone had turned up the music you had put on, a smile across your face as you thought about how much fun you were having.

In the other room, Brad had decided to go for what he wanted. He stood up, the wine heading straight to his head as he stumbled slightly, walking down the hall towards where the bathroom was, waiting outside of it for you. He looked back to make sure no one had followed him, but he was in the clear.

You dried your hands off, opening the door to find Brad standing in the dimly lit hallway, looking at you.

“Need to pee too?” you asked, motioning towards the bathroom.

“No,” he chuckled. “Just wanted to be alone with you for a second.”

“Oh yeah?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you approached him, feeling confident.

“Yeah,” he smirked. “I haven't been able to keep my eyes off of you, and it’s really hard to keep my hands off of you too.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, not expecting him to say that in the slightest. You had really thought Brad was upset with you or attempting to avoid you all night, maybe this was why.

“What’s stopping you?” you flirted back, taking yet another step closer, now able to feel Brad’s breath against your skin, his lips slightly stained from the red wine you had been drinking all evening.

“I’m not sure,” he mumbled, leaning in closer to you.

Both of you losing your inhibitions, you pressed your lips together desperately. It had been something you had both been thinking of for a long time, the satisfaction seeping through you as you felt his soft lips on yours. His hands reached for your waist, turning around so you were against the wall in the shadows of the corner of the hall, his lips moving hungrily, the kiss deepening.

You reached up, lacing your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly, earning a groan from Brad in return. His tongue teased your bottom lip, and you opened wider, your tongue touching his. He pulled away for a second, you breathing heavily as he moved to your neck, hands moving up and down your sides.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do this,” he muttered, the feel of his breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine. “I have a pretty good idea,” you blurted out.

“I’ve been thinking abut you all day, it was killing me seeing Colby all over you,” he said.

“I only want you,” you breathed out.

“Good,” Brad smirked before you pulled him back to your mouth, hungry for his kiss again.

You put your hands on his chest, his firm muscles against your hands through the soft fabric of his shirt. You trailed down to his stomach, revealing in the feeling of his body. He did the same to you, hands trailing around you, landing on your ass as he gave it a slight squeeze.

You pulled him closer to you, wanting him even closer than he already was, wanting all of him. You felt his crotch against yours, smiling in the kiss about what you did him.

“I want you so bad,” he groaned.

You took his hand, leading him to your bedroom, kicking the door closed behind you. He set you down on the bed, climbing on top of you as you wrapped your arms back around him, drowning in the kiss and his body. He smelled of cologne and tasted like wine, it was intoxicating.

You reached for his pants, toying with the button when there was a knock on the door, startling both of you.

“Y/n?” Colby asked from the other side of the door. “Are you in there? Just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“Yeah!” you blurted out as quickly as you could. “I’m fine I just wanted to change clothes.”

You facepalmed yourself after saying that, Brad laughing at you. Now you actually would have to change clothes to make it believable. Although, you assumed Colby had some idea about what was going on.

“Rain check?” Brad asked, despite how badly he wanted to go further.

“I guess so,” you sighed. “You can at least take me out for dinner first.”

“Of course, m’lady,” he chuckled. “How’s tomorrow sound?”

“Sounds lovely,” you grinned. “Now get out so I can change and we don’t look suspicious.”

“I think we already look suspicious, love, plus I want to see you without clothes on.”

You shoved him, letting out a laugh.

“You almost get some action and suddenly you’re so bold?” you ask.

“It's the cheap wine, babe,” he nodded. “It’s all about the cheap wine.”

You changed quickly, letting Brad stay in the room, kissing and fondling each other a little more. You wanted to go all the way, but your friends were all in the other room, and you were the host. You took his hand, leaving the room and shutting the door.

“Have fun?” Connor asked, eyeing both of your messed up hair, Brad’s pant button still undone.

“Oops,” you grinned, standing in front of him so he could button it up.

You sat on the couch next to each other, Brad’s hand brushing your thigh, still wanting to be as close to you as possible.

“Not a word,” you pointed at Colby, earning a laugh from everyone in the room.

You looked over at Brad, his soft brown eyes boring into yours. You knew this wasn’t just lust, and that maybe what you’ve always wanted was in the near future.

Maybe he would be yours.

#brad simpson #brad simpson imagine #brad simpson x reader #bradley simpson #bradley will simpson #bws #the vamps #the vamps imagine #the vamps imagines #connor ball #tristan evans #james mcvey

177 notes · View notes

arc852 · 3 years

Note

Fake Fics: buried in mud

This is less of a summary and more of an actual fic, lol. I had an idea so enjoy this little drabble.

Warnings: Fear

Word Count: 636

______________________________________________________________

It’s raining outside, absolutely pouring, but Tommy finds himself going on his evening walk anyway.

His evening walks have become a thing ever since Puffy, his therapist, suggested doing so in order to clear his head. He thought it was stupid at first but, well, it really did work. He always felt better afterwards and he found himself enjoying the scenery as well.

Even now, in the rain, it’s nice. Sure, his clothes are getting absolutely soaked and Phil was sure to lecture him when he got back for not even taking a coat or umbrella but Tommy didn’t really care at the moment. The rain was calming to him.

He stopped for a moment, in a field that was quickly filling with mud and raised his face to the sky, allowing the water to splash right on his face. Yeah, he was probably going to get sick and yeah, Phil would be upset but then Phil would fuss over him for the next few days and it would all be okay.

He brought his face back down, a smile gracing his lips, but it was quickly wiped as he noticed…something buried halfway in the mud not too far from where he was standing. It was white, at least the side that wasn’t buried, which was probably how Tommy spotted it in the first place because it was small. Curious, Tommy decided to step closer.

He froze as he saw the small thing twitch and move, slowly at first but then picking up speed as if it was struggling. It took a second for Tommy to comprehend that the small thing was actually alive and probably suffocating from being buried in that much mud.

He hurried over and carefully dug his fingers in, using his other hand to hover over and stop the rain from falling onto the tiny creature. As his fingers wrapped around it, it froze for a moment before struggling even more and Tommy couldn’t help but feel bad. But he continued and pulled the small white thing out of the ground.

Tommy blinked down at it. It..it almost looked human except for a few key features. It’s ears were pointed and it had a tail but it was definitely humanoid in nature. Not only that. But only half of it’s skin was the white color that had caught Tommy’s eyes. The other half was black, blending in a bit with the mud that covered that side of it.

Tommy would have thought it was an intricate little doll if he wasn’t currently feeling the rapid heartbeat of the little guy underneath his thumb. The eyes, too, which Tommy noticed were green and red, split just like his skin, were filled with fear and pointed directly at him as he shook in his grasp.

It wasn’t human but the look in its eyes was enough to convince Tommy it was a person.

…He should probably stop calling them and it then.

Tommy shifted his grip to hold the little creature more securely and was rewarded with a little noise of fear. “Hey, it’s okay.” Tommy spoke softly, though with how hard the rain was still pouring, it was a guess if the little guy could even hear him. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

He stood up and cupped his hands around the tiny guy, completely encompassing them in order to protect them from the rain. He winced as he felt little fists bang against his fingers but he didn’t release the little guy from his hold.

Instead, he brought his hand to his chest and then turned to run back home, being extra careful despite his speed to not trip and risk hurting the little guy in his hands.

And for the first time, Tommy wished he had brought a jacket.

#g/t #giant/tiny #mcyt g/t #au #drabble #human!tommy #tiny!ranboo #fake fic #but not really

123 notes · View notes

writingonsaturn · 3 years

Text

Better Unsaid

a/n okay this has been all over the place!! it was originally going to be a blurb and darker and closer to smutty (so keep your eyes out for that??? lol), but then I made it softer and the concept got away from me and it got soooo much longer than expected lmao and i still dont love where it ended so maybe part 2?? i have the idea i just dont know lol

summary: Reader is a princess and Anakin has been her guard during the most public season for the past two years (not the most logical thing but just go with it lol, it gets explained better in the fic) and after a near death experience the two are conveniently forced into a....

ONE BED TROPE ONE BED TROPE *cough cough* ONE BED TROPE WITH ONE PERSON HAVING TO WAKE UP THE OTHER BC THEYRE HAVING A NIGHTMARE,, :)))))))

His smugness is the only thing about him I can consider ‘ugly’. And because I am so desperate to not have feeling for Anakin, the Jedi who has been assigned to protect me through coronation season (which lasts for most of winter), for the last two coronation seasons, I hold onto my distaste for that side of him. Which is why I suppress my laugh as he waits for my reaction with that confident smile.

“Come on, that was funny.”

Rolling my eyes, I let myself sit on my bed. I can’t tell if he’s actually funny or if my evening has been so boring that his sense of humor has started to become appealing to me due to comparison. In short, the suitor I was forced to spend an entire evening with lacked personality so much I’m starting to find Anakin funny.

“You’re much more entertaining than this evening’s suitor.”

Anakin’s expression shifts slightly, his assured grin dropping slightly. “Another miss?”

“You have no idea.” I relax slightly, taking a moment to be glad that I completed my father’s request and now I can just enjoy the time I have with Anakin. “I know my father’s desperate to make sure my marriage is useful for our people and that he worries about this selection process because he always thought my mother would be here to help, but sometimes I wish he wouldn’t rush it so much. It feels like all he wants me for is to marry me off in exchange of finance or weaponry or something diplomatic.”

“You’re more than that.” His response is so soft I think I might have missed it if I needed it less. I curse myself for feeling so validated by him. His words shouldn’t mean anything to me. After all, he could easily just be saying that because agreeing with my father will just make me more unpleasant to be around.

I smile politely while avoiding his eyes. I keep my hands on either side of me, fighting the urge to fidget. “Thank you, Anakin.” My words sound weak in my own ears, so I’m sure he notices my shift in mood. “I’m tired today, I think I’m going to go to bed early.” Normally, I’d be able to shrug off these kinds of things, but the beginning of Coronation Season makes me irritable. The anniversary of my mother’s death hits me harder each year.

“Y/n.” My name comes out so velvety I can’t find it in myself to interrupt him. “You are more than someone meant to be used as some kind of royal currency, and I mean that as more than just a...friend.”

I let his last word linger. We’ve tried so many titles that never seem to fit right. He’s the chosen one, one of the most powerful Jedi to exist, and the Jedi assigned to protect me each Coronation Season because that’s when my mother was assassinated. He’s my guard, but we’ve spent too many nights laughing together and talking about everything and anything. And I guess now he’s my friend, even though sometimes when he looks at me in a certain way or sits too close to me or reaches for my hand to guide me somewhere I can’t breathe right.

“Anakin, you know I love when you’re here, even though sometimes you drive me insane. And I appreciate your kindness, but your words can’t change the truth. That’s how my father sees me and he’s not exactly wrong. I’m not a son, I haven’t been raised to lead an army or lead much, and--”

“I’ve seen you in meeting after meeting, convention after convention. I’ve witnessed the way you handle real problems and I know how you care about your people. You’d make a great leader, you don’t need a husband to be valuable.”

My chest swells, feelings I never let myself think about mixing with thoughts of Anakin that I’ve spent so long trying to avoid. “That settles it, you’re my favorite person.”

He grins, the look warm enough to melt the odd lump in my throat. I fight down a smile as he steps forward. “And I wasn’t before?”

“I take it back--your head’s big enough without the additional praise.”

Rolling my eyes, I lean back slightly in order to recreate the distance he so easily destroyed. “And I thought you had finally warmed up to me, princess.”

The use of my title makes me skeptical. The last time Anakin used it was when he was trying to ease me so that I’d walk around the palace garden so he had an excuse to do the same. It was beyond late and I was half asleep, but he had os much energy he was desperate and just needed to do one more thing. I felt bad that his schedule revolved so heavily around mine (and when he softens his eyes and says please, I’m left incapable of saying the word ‘no’) so I agreed.

“What do you want?”

Anakin dramatically clutches a hand over his heart. He throws his head back slightly as if he’s just taken a fatal blow. “When did you turn so cynical? I’ve been back for three days and I’m starting to believe you’re a different person now.”

Yeah...he’s definitely getting ready to ask for something that’s more trouble than it’s worth. Then again, everything with him seems to be worth it in some capacity. Even if it’s just that one smile he gets when he’s truly content and doesn’t think anyone’s looking.

“Mhm,” I mumble, still fighting a grin, “so you’re not going to ask me anything?”

His lips part slightly as he exhales. I watch the way his eyes narrow at my victorious expression. “I don’t have anything to ask of you, but I do have a small request. A request so small you won’t have to do anything but say yes.”

Suspicious. Too easy. “You’re unbelievable.”

“You just said I was your favorite person. Remember that.”

I’m too tired for his coyness. I’d rather him make his ridiculous request now so that I can be in bed within the hour. Though I can’t pretend I don’t normally feel better after letting him drag me along on whatever ‘adventure’ he just needed to complete while also not letting me out of his sight. I used to tell him that I wouldn’t tell anyone if I wasn’t under supervision for an hour or two a day, but he dismissed the idea immediately. That’s been the cornerstone of everything.

“What is it?”

He sighs once, tilting his head slightly. The way his eyes soften tells me he’s already won at least half the battle. “They still haven’t caught the attempted--” Anakin pauses, something behind his eyes darkening. I know what he’s remembering. Last night, an assassin had gotten closer than they ever had. I had almost been shot in the garden, Anakin had barely pushed me to the ground in time. A fact he’s been beating himself up for since, especially considering that no one has been able to find my attempted killer yet. “They were so close to you. They were within palace limits and they disappeared like they never existed. Who’s to say they don’t work here and are waiting for the next moment you’re exposed? Who’s to say they aren’t here tonight, waiting for me to retire for the night?”

I didn’t realize how my near death experience had been so personal to him. He, like everyone else, was beyond frantic after it happened. But my father put an end to verbal worry before it could truly begin. He said the best thing we could do was act like everything was fine as the assailant was searched for. Anakin hadn’t been particularly cheery after my father instructed the guards to focus their search on known enemies instead of prioritizing venting the staff closest to me. I comforted him as best as I could, but he didn’t feel like speaking about it and I had to worry about the suitor meeting my father wouldn’t let me cancel.

“Anakin, you’re right next door to me.” I have to fight the urge to reach for him. “I was fine because of you, and I will be fine because of you.”

He sighs once, his expression not easing. “And if the person is silent? The attacker could easily work in the palace, but no one wanted to direct the search inwards.” His words are more strained than I’ve ever heard them be. “I think it’d be smart for me to stay in here. I know you’ve refused having a guard stay in your room or outside your door, but...” Anakin sighs. “Your safety would be more assured.”

Him staying in my room? The only line I’ve ever been allowed to draw, and I’m actually considering letting that go. If he seemed even slightly less sad, I wouldn’t even consider it. It’s not a good idea. I’m already too attached to him. “Anakin--”

“I’d feel more assured.”

Damn him. Stupid, extremely sweet Anakin who makes saying no to him impossible. I stretch my arm forward, letting my hand squeezes his forearm gently. “There’s no reason to not feel assured.” He doesn’t ease, the cloudiness behind his eyes remains stubborn. “You’re still worried.” No reaction, the haze that’s taken him isn’t letting go. “Fine--but tell no one or my father is going to take to posting guards at my door every night.”

...I guess there are worse ways to spend a night. Which is kind of a problem since I’m trying to...enjoy Anakin less. Ugh, I even sound dumb in my head. “I promise, princess.”

Ugh, he’s adorable. “You’re intolerable.” I stand from he foot of my bed and pull back the covers on my bed. He doesn’t reply, something dark still playing for him. I watch him move to face the door. Wait--is he doing what I think he’s doing? “No, you’re not going to stand there all night. You need sleep.” He has the audacity to give me an annoyed look. “I already didn’t want to do this so now you have to listen to my conditions.”

He raises an eyebrow, his lips pressing together oddly. He’s trying to gauge something from my expression, perhaps he’s looking for buttons to press to get his way. I guess I look as stubborn as I feel because instead of arguing he just sits on the floor. What? I watch him cautiously, trying to figure out if this is some weird argument trick.

“What are you doing?”

“What you asked.”

And just like that I’ve put myself in a position that I will no doubt regret terribly the second common sense returns to me. There’s no way to deny that Anakin and I are closer than we probably should be. We’ve felt like friends first since the day we first met. I can’t think of any reason to not offer to let him sleep in my bed except those stupid budding feelings I refuse to label.

It’s not like I actually like him. I can’t--I’m going to be married to some nobleman and he’s prohibited from ever forming attachments. I’m not even sure if we’re allowed to be friends. Having actual feelings for him would be so, so pointless. It would just lead to heartache and the ruining of the one genuine relationship I have. I’m just a tiny bit confused right now because he’s objectively really attractive and he’s always there for me. Always there to make a joke after a particularly rough meeting. Always there to offer me a supportive smile. Always there to humble me when I teeter on acting like my father.

Anyone’s heart would flutter at that, so it doesn’t mean anything. And if it does, I need to squash any budding feelings now before I mess things up. Which is why I should keep him at arm’s length until I get it together. But is that fair to him? And what if doing that is making things worse? What if it’s just reinforcing the idea of having feelings?

This is ridiculous. I’m going to get over this if it kills me. It’s just a bed and it’s only sleeping. I’m meant to be able to lead an entire union and I can’t sleep next to someone and act normal?” “You don’t have to sleep on the floor.”

The second the words leave my mouth I regret it all. What’s wrong with me? Did I seriously think I’d be okay?

I hear his soft exhale, “I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse places than on your marble floor.”

His voice sounds so weighted I can’t help but feel bad for not noticing that he’s still bothered. Whether he’s upset about his near miss or the fact that my father didn’t take his advice, I don’t know. But something’s wrong. The easy thing to do would be to just let him sleep it off. The smart thing to do would be to leave him alone until tomorrow.

I think of all the times that I’ve been upset and Anakin had refused to let me go to sleep angry or sad or overwhelmed. “I know, but it’s really not a big deal. It’s not like we don’t know each other. I mean, last Coronation Season you buttoned me into more gowns than my handmaid. And I owe you for saving me from one of the worst suitors I’ve ever had.”

“I’m starting to think we need to develop some kind of signal.”

The tiny bit of lightness that’s returned to his voice makes all of my internal struggle feel worth it. “You always seem to know.”

“That’s because when you’re reaching your limit, that one line appears between your eyebrows.”

I didn’t realize I had such a tell. I try to remember the way that the suitor drawled on and on about how amazing he was and how he couldn’t wait for the day he had a bride to bear his children and plan (tedious) social events. My hand moves to my forehead, trying to feel the crease Anakin mentioned. Can everyone tell when I’m growing tired? Am I that transparent?

Anakin’s slight laugh steals my attention. He’s facing me again, his elbow holding his head up on the foot of my bed. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t--I don’t think i get a crease between my eyebrows when I’m irritated.”

I hear him stand. I don’t realize he’s approaching me until he’s so close I could touch him without even needing. to stretch. “No, when you’re irritated you raise your eyebrows slightly, because that’s when you’re at your most sarcastic.”

“Really?”

The corner of his mouth tugs upwards. “Just like that.” I force myself to keep my expression blank. “When you’re reaching your limit, your eyebrows crease here.” His finger taps the space between my brows so gently I almost don’t realize what he’s doing. “And when you’re trying not to laugh--which is often, because you refuse to admit that I’m funny--you press your lips together in a way that forms a dimple here.” The knuckle of his pointer finger brushes against the bottom of my cheek.

I bite my tongue to fight the warmth spreading across my face. “I didn’t realize i was so transparent.”

“I can’t always tell what you’re thinking.”

“I’ll take it.” Maybe if I was less tired, I’d argue a little more. “You know you’re not that difficult to read either.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I can tell when you’re just being stubborn for the sake of it. I can see it in your eyes and you’re doing it right now.”

His expression harshens slightly before softening. “Y/n--”

“I’m not wrong.”

He sighs once, stepping back. I watch him pace around my bed before taking a seat on the edge of my other side of the bed. “Are you happy now?”

“Happy that I won? Absolutely.”

Anakin halfheartedly glares at me. “Careful, add a crown and a robe that trails down a throne and I’d feel like I was speaking to your father.”

“Careful, another side comment like that and I’ll ‘accidentally’ kick you off the bed in the middle of the night.”

“Not if I kick you off the bed first.”

I trace a thoughtless pattern on the fabric of my bedsheets. “What are you? Twelve?”

“I’m older than you.”

“Barely.” I continue the thoughtless pattern tracing as I fight the sleep from my eyes. “Your comebacks are usually more creative than that.”

He exhales, relaxing slightly as he rests his back against a pillow. “I’m tired, like you claimed to be.” His eyes flutter slightly, a bit of his exhaustion showing. “Go to sleep.”

I should. I’m too old to think I can put off a tomorrow I don’t want by just staying up. This is stupid. I’m too old to think I can put off the anniversary of my mother’s death by going to bed. She had been taken from us on castle grounds, killed by a revolutionist who viewed my mother as a class traitor. I still remember the way she slumped to the ground, her blood staining the snow beneath her. I remember the way the guards were so busy chasing her killer no one thought to keep me away from the body.

“Y/n?”

I scratch the back of my arm in hopes of banishing my thoughts. “Yes?”

“You’re being quiet.”

“You said to go to sleep, that tends to be a quiet thing.”

I can feel his eyes on me. “Since when do you listen to me?” Not trusting myself to actually reply, I only offer him a hum of acknowledgement. “I know you’re not half asleep.”

Folding my hands on my lap, I avoid his gaze. “It’s tomorrow.”

I don’t know why I trust him to understand my vague response, but I do. His silence stretches over us like a thin blanket on a cold night. Maybe he doesn’t understand what I’m implying. I can always correct him tomorrow, when my eyelids are no longer as heavy as my heart. The more seconds that pass in total silence, the more I think that maybe he’s fallen asleep.

I wouldn’t be surprised, Anakin has seemed tired recently, like some additional weight he won’t share with anyone has been thrust onto his shoulders. A small part of me rolls in guilt. I need to be a better friend, just because I’m suddenly a little too aware of him doesn’t mean I can shrug him off and ignore him.

My hand almost flinches away from the feeling of something surprisingly warm touching my pinky. When I realize that it’s just Anakin and that the contact was probably accidental, I force myself to ease. It’s not like we’ve never touched before, I don’t understand why I’m making it weird. Sitting in my bed in the dark doesn’t change anything. His hand turns slightly, pressing into mine a little more assuredly. Biting my tongue, I turn my hand slightly, exposing my palm. And just like that, our fingers intertwine.

“She would have been proud of you.” His voice comes out so low I barely register the words.

The words shouldn’t mean much to me--he never knew my mother and has no way to know what she wanted me to be.--and yet I find comfort in them. I smile, turning my head towards him. “You didn’t even know her.”

He rolls his eyes slightly, relaxing further before squeezing my hand once. “Who wouldn’t be proud of you? You’re kind and smart and decent to be around when you’re not telling me what to do.”

My heart swells in my chest so much I’m surprised it doesn’t burst. Could he be cuter? “Yeah...now I’m sure you’re my favorite person.”

“Now you’re sure?”

The smugness in his voice has me rolling my eyes. “Don’t make me regret saying that.”

“Maybe in the morning,” he says easily, “now go to sleep. There’s nothing worse than escorting you from meeting to meeting while you’re tired.”

“I’m not that bad.” Even in this darkness, I can make out the way he raises an eyebrow. “Shut up--I’m going to sleep, but not because of you.”

He lets out a slight huff. “You’re impossible.”

The desire to respond to his comment is not enough for me to win the fight against the weight of my eyelids. The moment my eyes shut, I feel powerless to anything that isn’t sleep. I let myself fall into a weightless sleep, my only tether being the Anakin’s fingers around mine.

A distant noise yanks me from my sleep. I’m too drowsy to do anything but register the sound. I hear another similar...whine? cry? I can’t tell and I’m too asleep to figure it out. I almost fall asleep again, but a third distressed sound keeps me from it. I wipe my eyes lazily with the back of my hand as I try to sit up.

Squinting, I make out a figure on my bed. It takes me a moment to remember Anakin and how I fell asleep. Our hands are still together and no light is peering through my window so it can’t be that long since I fell asleep. Another disgruntled sound carries itself throughout the room. I shift slightly, leaning over Anakin cautiously.

Golden brown curls are beginning to stick to his forehead and his eyebrows are drawn together sharply. He’s having a nightmare. I shift even further forward before cautiously placing a hand on his shoulder before squeezing him gently.

“Anakin,” I whisper, “it’s not--it’s not real.” His eyebrows draw together even more harshly. I shake him a little more stubbornly. “Anakin, wake up--you’re having a ni--”

My forearm is grabbed so suddenly I barely register it before I feel my back shoved into my mattress. I blink twice. His dark eyes are frantic and the look on his face is far from the gentle, easygoing expression I’m used to. He’s breathing deeply, his chest rising and falling from above me. I swallow a slight panic and something I don’t understand as I try to keep my eyes on his face and my thoughts away from how close he is. Anakin pries his fingers from my forearm one by one until only his palm is touching me.

“Y/n, I--”

“It’s okay.” Honestly, I’m more worried about his uneven breathing than the way he grabbed me. I can’t imagine everything he’s been through or how justified his nightmares are. Anakin moves his hand away from me. I don’t sit up until he’s off of me and sitting with his back against my headboard. “It’s okay--I just--you were having a nightmare and I thought I should wake you.” He doesn’t react. I turn my body further, keeping my back straight. Anakin doesn’t move, and the longer he stays still, the more I feel like I should say something else. “Do you want talk about it? Or do--do you want to talk about something else? Or go to sleep? Or get some water? Or--” The far off look behind his eyes silences me. I scoot forward slightly. “You’re okay, Anakin, I promise.”

His head turns at that, his eyes searching mine for something I don’t understand. “I thought...” He cuts himself off by swallowing once.

I shift a little more, trying to find anything normal in his expression. “Thought what?”

Anakin’s hand is on my arm so quickly I don’t even register his movement. I let his fingers press into my skin. He’s holding onto me like I’m a figment of a dream and he’s beginning to wake up. “I thought I’d failed.” He exhales, the sound heavy. “Failed you and that you’d--I thought I had lost you.”

A lump rises in my throat, thick and unmoving. Cautiously, I place my hand over the one still gripping my shoulder like a lifeline. “You didn’t. Nothing happened, it was just a dream.”

His gaze falls to the ground before he repeats the last of my words. “Just a dream.” There’s a hollowness to his voice I don’t understand.

I exhale, carefully running my thumb over his knuckles. “Yes.” He doesn’t say anything but his expression hardens again. I let us sit there like that for a long minute. “I promise.”

“You can’t promise things like that.”

I sigh, unsure of where to go from here. “Bad dreams are only bad dreams.” He doesn’t reply. “I think you should try to get some more sleep.”

Anakin is unresponsive. I shift back, but before I can transition from almost being on top of him to just sitting next to him, he pulls on my arm to keep in place. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to me.”

“You almost died today, y/n. I was right there and if I had been a second later--”

“But you weren’t.” He doesn’t ease. “You were there and I was fine. Don’t torment yourself over what could have been. You’ll drive yourself crazy.”

“If anything ever happened to y--”

“It’s not going to,” I whisper, ignoring the way his hold on my arm tightens even further, “Especially this time a year when I have a pretty good gau--”

He tilts his head slightly, eyebrows drawing together and a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Pretty good? Really?”

“Someone needs to watch your ego, chosen one.” This time when he tries for a smile, the look has some strength behind it. Relief pools in my stomach. “Now get some sleep, tomorrow’s a busy day and when you’re sleepy you’re beyond irritable.”

Anakin lets me pull away enough to lay down, but he doesn’t follow. Not for a long second. When he does, his movements are impossibly rigid. I watch him out of the corner of my eye as carefully as I can manage.

“Y/n?”

I regret turning my head immediately. I didn’t realize how close he was. It would take no effort from me to make our lips meet. Wait--why am I thinking of that? I’m not allowed to think of stuff like that...especially not about him.

“Yes?”

He lets out a breath before moving his hand. I don’t understand his hesitation until I feel his hand cupping my cheek gently. “What if next time I’m not enough? What if next time I lose you because I’m not strong enough?”

I never thought my death would be such a personal thing to him. Sure, I knew that we had some kind of bond, some kind of friendship, and that my death would bring sadness. But I never imagined I’d matter enough to him that thoughts of my death would be frightening enough to slip into his subconscious and become a thing of nightmares.

“You are enough. Nothing is going to happen to me and if it does it’s not going to be because of you.” Anakin’s lips press together in a way that implies serious uncertainty. His thumb brushes across my cheek so unexpectedly I almost ask him what he’s doing. The intensity behind his eyes is enough to burn me. “Was your dream really that bad?”

He lets out an uncertain breath as his eyebrows draw together. I don’t miss the way his jaw clenches. “It’s more than the dream. I...y/n, princess,” he tacts on, a hint of humor returning to him, “you’re more than a mission to me.”

The admission is so soft I can’t help but smile. “I know, Anakin, we’re--”

“You’re more than a friend to me.” I don’t know if my blood freezes in my veins or if my lungs don’t contract when they should or if my heart literally skips a beat, but I know something in me completely stops at his words. “I--”

“Don’t say it.” I don’t know how I managed to cut him off so sharply and I’m a little disappointed when I do, but it’s the right thing to do. Thought of the code that’s so important to him have clouded half the immense shock and joy swelling in my chest. “What you’re trying to say...I um, I want to say the same.” I try to drop my gaze but he tilts my head up slightly with his hand. “But we shouldn’t, you know that.”

"You want to us to pretend that nothing’s different? You want me to escort you from meetings with one suitor to the next every Coronation Season until you’re married off?”

“No, I’m not saying that. The point is that I’m not saying anything.” His eyebrows draw together in uncertainty. “Isn’t it enough for now, for both of us to just know? If we say it...that could mean bad things for you. And I don’t want to be a bad thing for you.”

“You could never be.”

It’d be so easy to believe him. To believe him and to let him say what I never imagined I’d be able to hear and damn the consequences of tomorrow. “Can we just refrain from verbally saying anything until you’re sure?”

“I’m sure right now. I’ve been sure since the first time we ever walked in the garden together. The night after the first Coronation Ball I escorted you to.”

I remember that night well. The way he hadn’t scolded me for needing air or taking off my uncomfortably high heels to walk in the grass. “If you mean it, you won’t say it yet. I refuse to get in the way of what you’re meant for.”

His thumb runs my cheek entirely, stopping at the corner of my mouth. “Are you capable of not disagreeing with me?”

Rolling my eyes slightly, I place my hand over his. “Probably not.”

Anakin exhales, his playful irritation clear in the sound. “You’re impossible when you’re tired.”

“I am not tired.”

“I can see the sleep in your eyes.”

“I can see it in yours too.”

He pauses, eyebrows drawn together cautiously. “I’ll go to sleep if you do.”

He must be more tired than I thought if he’s compromising with me so quickly. “Deal.”

Neither of us close our eyes for a long second, we just watch each other with wide eyes. It still doesn’t feel like he’s eased, but he’s come back to me so much more than he was earlier. I’ll make sure to check how he’s feeling in the morning. The first morning after we’ve...I don’t know.

I’m trying really hard not to get excited because anything that’s been not said could be taken back so easily. That’s the point--but it’s hard not to let my heart get ahead of my rationality. I’ll just take the good for what it is for now and tomorrow we can figure out the rest. Even though he’s not allowed to form attachments and my father really wants to marry me off to foreign royalty.

Tomorrow. This can begin to be solved tomorrow. My eyes shut and I let myself roll fully onto my back. The second I’m comfortably settled, I feel Anakin shift against the bed. I’m too tired to open my eyes until I feel a weight placed against my chest.

I open my eyes on instinct, less surprised than I should be when I see Anakin’s head resting against my chest. Before I can speak, I feel his arm rest against my side. “Anakin,” I breathe, my hand moving to smooth his hair out of his face the way I’ve wanted to for so long. “What did we just talk about?”

“You said not to say anything,” he mumbles comfortably, “I’m not saying anything.” ...It is kind of the ideal compromise. Especially since I’m too tired to find reason and he feels so warm. “I can feel you overthinking. Go back to smoothing my hair before I have to rise and stand at your door so that your handmaid comes to wake you. Something tells me she’d be glad for the excuse to get rid of me.”

That might be the most dramatic thing I’ve ever heard him say. Selma is the most patient woman in the palace. “Selma would never report anything involving me, I can’t believe you don’t like her. She’s the sweetest woman I’ve ever met.”

“She’s the one that doesn’t like me,” he says, “she always watches me like she’s trying to figure out if I’m planning on stealing you away.”

Too tired to fight my smile, I go back to smoothing his hair out with my fingers. After a moment, he lets out an exhale that relaxes his entire body. “Goodnight, princess.”

“Goodnight.” The word is barely a mumble as I feel sleep tug against me for the second time tonight.

It’s strange, but my excitement doesn’t diminish my tiredness, it just makes the prospect of rest feel so much fuller. Safer. Because there’s so much to sort out and grieve but it’s okay, because we have the time and everything feels okay because Anakin is here, right beneath my fingertips.

#anakin skywalker #anakin #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin x you #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x y/n #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars imagines #star wars fic

169 notes · View notes

nothoughtsonlynat · 3 years

Text

Resurrect Me (N.R.)

Warnings: swearing; death; Hell/the Underworld; cliff jumping lol

Word Count≈ 3.1k (yikes lol my bad)

Hecate一 the goddess of magic, witchcraft, the night, the moon, ghosts, and necromancy. Known to be an intricate mosaic of good and evil, destruction and beauty. Capable of granting wishes, summoning the dead, resurrections, teleportation, warping realities on unfathomable scales, mind control, energy manipulation, and any sorcery or magic known to the Gods. Second only to Zeus himself.

I am the human embodiment of Hecate. I am not Hecate; she merely resides in the depths of my soul and provides me guidance. We do not communicate through words; she speaks through dreams and gut feelings, and sometimes even through signs in the outside world. I have not mastered the powers she’s granted me, nor have I reached my full potential. In addition to the Goddess’ powers, I hold the basic Olympian powers, such as superhuman speed and stamina. I have no recollection of how I merged with Hecate or the life I lived before this point, and she has provided me with no answers, but I do not question her motives.

Agent Phil Coulson came across me in my temple in Turkey. Apparently, he had discovered strange energy readings coming from the temple. When he arrived, I used the power of energy manipulation to blow the concrete off of me, and that is the first thing I remember一 emerging from underneath Hecate’s temple.

I joined the Avengers during the Battle of New York. Agent Coulson had recommended me to Fury when he was piecing together the Avengers Initiative. In the three years between my awakening and the invasion, I practiced my sorcery mercilessly and studied Hecate deep in the Greek countryside. I’ve stuck with the Avengers throughout the years, fighting every battle alongside them. Through the ups and downs, I’ve fallen head over heels for Natasha Romanoff. One would assume that with so much power, I’d be confident and have any mortal begging at my feet. That couldn’t be any more inaccurate, however. As I’ve said, I am not Hecate; I am simply the human embodiment of the goddess. And as a human, I turn into a blushing, stuttering mess whenever the levelheaded assassin is near. Consequently, there have been many years of pining, but I’ve yet to muster up the courage to ask the woman on a date.

In our most recent war, we’ve gone up against a mad titan一 Thanos. We lost terribly. Half of all living things inhabiting the universe were snapped away. I can’t help but ponder whether things would’ve gone differently if I had better mastered my powers. I potentially hold all the capabilities of the goddess of magic; aside from Zeus, I hold more power than any being to ever exist. I’ve practiced my sorcery every day for the past five years on the off chance that we ever get a rematch一 a chance to bring everyone back. I’ve improved significantly, but Hecate has been oddly quiet for the past few years. It’s driving me crazy. I know she’s still there, but she hardly provides an ounce of guidance.

And so, that is where I find myself now一 practicing sorcery in the room specifically designed to isolate me when I use dark magic. Everyone who has access to the training section of the compound knows that they should never enter this room. It is far too dangerous for regular mortals. As I warp the room’s reality, a dark mist envelops me. When it clears, the room has changed into a 50s ballroom. I look down to see an elegant maroon ball gown covering my body, and I scan the empty area. I hear a pair of heels clicking toward me, and I spin around, already panicking. In order for someone to be here with me, they would have to be an inhabitant of the location’s true reality. My eyes land upon the woman I’ve grown to love, dressed up for the event. She is wearing an extravagant light blue ball gown, and her hair is carefully done up.

“Natasha? What are you doing here?”

“Why I came to dance with you, of course.” She steps closer and drapes her arms around my neck, swaying to the nonexistent music. Stay calm. Don’t panic. There’s no way I’m making her do this. I’m not even doing anything! Of course I’m the one making her do this, who else would it be?! Breathe in. Breathe out. My powers don’t control me. I control them. Just breathe. I can do this. I know how to do this.

As I focus on the magic coursing through my veins, a black mist envelops us, and the room returns to its original form一 a basic training room with black padded walls. I immediately take a large step back from Natasha.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Natasha?! You know you can’t come in here! I could’ve seriously hurt you!”

“I...I’m sorry. I thought you’d just be moving shit with your mind. I didn’t realize you could do...that, whatever that was.”

“That was reality manipulation. I didn’t know you were here and I don’t have full control of it, so you got caught up in it. Are you okay? Do you remember it?”

“Yeah, I remember it clear as day. I was still me and I was still in control, it was just...different, I guess.”

“Well, I literally warped your reality, so even if you felt in control, you might not have been.”

“You stopped it, though. I remember when that seemed impossible. You’re getting better.”

“Thanks, I guess.” I awkwardly scratch the back of my neck. “What did you come in here for in the first place?”

“This is gonna sound crazy, but Scott Lang is here. We might have a way to bring everybody back.”

“Wait, what? Holy shit. It’s happening. Okay, come on then!” I eagerly walk past her, grabbing her hand as I pass her, and we leave my training room. I realize that I’m still holding her hand as we make it to the meeting room, and I immediately drop it, clearing my throat. If I wasn’t so familiar with the sensation, then I would swear that my ears and cheeks are on fire.

<//>

We all step onto the platform in matching white and red time-travel suits. “We’re really doing this?”

“Hell yeah, we’re doing this,” Clint answers.

“Alright, then. We bring everybody back,” I say with determination. “Whatever it takes,” Steve adds.

“See you in a minute,” Natasha adds with a smirk. Before I can appreciate how beautiful she looks with the glimmer of hope in her eyes, we’re flying through a flurry of colors. Nebula, Natasha, Rhodey, Clint, and I land on Morag. We all say our respective goodbyes before Nat, Clint, and I get on a jet to head to Vormir.

<//>

“A soul for a soul.”

“What? That’s insane. Look, no offense, Mr. Bloody Tampon, but why should we just trust what you’re saying? Because you know their fathers’ names?”

“I didn’t.” I looked into Natasha’s eyes as she spoke and I instantly wish that I could replace the dull sadness with the bright hope that had filled them before.

“He doesn’t know my father’s name. If he’s some mystical being, then why can’t he tell me that?” I turned to face him as I asked the question.

“I’m afraid you are a mystery. I am meant to know everything about any being who seeks the stone, but I know nothing of your identity.”

“Hm. Seems like a load of bullshit to me,” I deadpanned.

“We need to do this. We need to bring everyone back. I’ve spent the past five years trying to reverse the snap, and now I finally know how to fix it. Let me do it.” As Natasha spoke, she grabbed both of my hands in hers.

“And I’ve spent every day for the past five years training to do this. I wasn’t just practicing sorcery and talking to dead people for fun, Nat. All I wanted was to do better一 to fix this. If anyone is jumping off that cliff, it’s gonna be me.”

“No. Absolutely not. Neither of you is dying for that stone. I’ve done horrible things these past few years. I’ve killed...so many people. It should be me,” Clint says, and Natasha and I turn to face him, but one of her hands remains in mine.

“No way in hell, Clint. And not you either, Nat. Both of you guys have families. You’re not sacrificing yourselves. I won’t let you. And you can’t stop me even if you try.” Nat gives me a questioning look as I mention her family and I speak in her head ‘I know about them, Nat. And they need you. She needs her big sister.’

“What are you saying?” I can hear the anxiety lacing Nat’s words, and it causes a pit to form in my stomach.

“I think you know what I’m saying, Natty.”

“Then you don’t leave me much of a choice.” She shoots a Widow’s Bite toward me, but I stop it using energy manipulation without even having to lift a finger.

“You can’t beat me, Nat. Please, don’t fight me on this.”

“I call bullshit.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Clint running toward the edge while we’re distracted, and I teleport in front of him, throwing him backward. I use mind control to force him to stay down. I sense Natasha running toward the edge behind me, and I teleport in front of her. I use energy manipulation to keep her in place, and I grab onto her biceps.

“I’m really sorry, Nat. I hate that I’m doing this to you, but I can’t let you throw yourself off a cliff for some stupid stone. Your life is worth so much more than that. You’re an amazing person, and your ledger was cleared of its red so long ago. Don’t let anyone tell you any different.”

“This is sounding an awful lot like a goodbye.”

“You can be sarcastic all you want, but I’m not walking out of this one, Natty.”

“Don’t do this. The team needs you.”

“No, they don’t, Nat, and we both know it. They need you.”

“And what if I need you?!”

“Well if that’s the case, you’ll figure it out, just like you always do. Don’t let something like this hold you back. Goodbye, Natasha Romanoff.” I kiss her cheek before turning around. I start walking towards the edge, but it quickly turns into a sprinting pace as I hear Nat screaming for me to stop. Just before I reach the edge, I lift the mind control from Clint and I release Nat, just in case it doesn’t automatically lift when I die. I push myself off the cliff, turning mid-jump so I’m not facing the ground. As I’m falling through the air, I see Clint holding Nat in his arms as her screams fill my ears. I hit the ground and everything goes black.

<//>

“Hello, y/n. It’s good to see you again.” I sat up and一 what the hell is that smell? “Ah, yes. That would be burning flesh. Welcome to Hell, darling.”

“Uh...what? Who are you?”

“Yes, I suppose I should explain, hm? I am Hecate, Goddess of一”

“Yeah, I know what you’re the goddess of. How did I get here?”

“I thought you were smarter than this. You died, obviously.”

“And went to Hell? Damn.”

“Oh, relax. Hell isn’t what the mortals think it is. This is the Underworld. All of the dead reside here. The bad people get punished, the good people don’t. Simple as that. We don’t have a lot of time, so I need to explain. I am cursed; I cannot leave the Underworld. However, my human embodiment can, and that is where you come into play. You hold all my power, and I can see you’ve been practicing, but you’ve never lived up to your full potential.”

“Hey! Rude!”

“Don’t interrupt. I didn’t allow you to live up to your full potential, not until we met, anyway.”

“And I had to die in order for that to happen?”

“Yes. I’m giving you all of my power, but I can still stop you if I ever need to. I know you don’t want to risk hurting the people you love, especially the redhead, but you need to trust yourself. Trust your powers. Have a little faith. You are a goddess, remember. Don’t let people forget it. That purple thumb is nothing compared to you, even with his colorful rocks. Your family needs you now. You must help them.”

“That’s it? Why do they need help? How will I know what to do?”

“I will always be there to help you, Y/N. You can handle this. This is nothing. You are part of me, just as I am part of you. You are my daughter, after all. I should know your capabilities better than anyone.”

“Wait, daughter?!”

“Oh, did I forget to mention that part? Oh well, it doesn’t matter right now, anyway. You need to go.”

“Go where?”

“Home, darling.”

The earth above us cracks open and I can hear faint sounds of fighting on the surface. I look at Hecate as she nods. Before I even realize I’m doing it, black mist surrounds my body and lifts me through the crack. I step out of the mist onto the ground and a staff appears in my right hand. I tap it once on the ground and my white suit is replaced by an all-black leather outfit that’s definitely made for a goddess. I smirk and make eye contact with the titan across the battlefield. His sickly creatures race toward me as they notice the new threat on the field. I summon an army of ghouls from the cracks in the earth. As the aliens and the undead clash, I teleport in front of Thanos.

“And who might you be, dear?” He acts confident, but I can sense his fear.

“I am Y/N, daughter of Hecate.” He tilts his head in a questioning manner. “Oh, did someone not study mythology? Hm, then let’s be blunt, shall we? I’m a goddess, ass-chin.” I throw my staff at his throat, but he catches it. He moves to swing his large sword at me, but I capture his arm in black mist. When he tries to move the other arm, I restrain that one, as well. “Well, that surely can’t be all you’ve got, hm? Pity, I thought it’d be more exciting than that.” If I were to look in a mirror at that moment, I would’ve noticed my ghostly pale skin, black eyes, and the raw power spreading through my veins like a black road-map.

“It’s not over yet, my dear child.” Before I can question the meaning of his words, an alien tosses him the gauntlet. It slides on his exposed hand, but I hold it open with dark magic. I look around and notice that the army of the undead is nowhere to be seen. My teammates are pinned down, even with the help of those who were snapped. There is a feeling in my gut and a voice in my head that tells me what I must do. I pull the gauntlet off his hand with black mist and slide my hand inside. I feel the power surging into my body. “What are you doing? That power will kill you!” Thanos sounds truly desperate.

“That’s cute. Truly, it is, but you can’t kill someone who’s already dead.” I close my hand and snap my fingers. His army fades to dust and he slumps to the ground before floating away with them. I drop the gauntlet to the ground and look around. Natasha runs toward me and throws her arms around my neck in a firm hug.

“Wha一what happened to you? How are you here? I thought you died!”

I wrap my arms around her waist and rest my chin on her shoulder before saying, “I did die. I am dead.”

She pulls away and looks at me from head to toe. “Well that explains why you’re so damn pale, but now I have so many more questions.”

“I am Hecate’s daughter, so I am technically a goddess, like her. I’m not sure if I was technically resurrected or not, but I can probably一”

She cut me off with a gentle yet passionate kiss. She pulls away and searches my eyes. “I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time,” she admits.

“Me too,” I breathe out.

“Yeah, I picked up on that. You’re not very discrete.” I laughed and a smirk spread across her face. “As sexy as this whole ‘powerful goddess’ thing is, am I going to get the old you back? You know, the one who blushes whenever I look at her? The one who’s, like, alive?”

I smile at her and glance down at her lips as a thick black mist appears behind me. I step backward into it as her face morphs into a look of confusion. She disappears from sight as a wall of black fills my vision, and a surge of power spreads throughout my body. I fall to my knees and the black cloud disappears. Natasha rushes over and kneels in front of me. “Are you okay? What the hell was that?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but I think I’m alive again.” I lift my head and meet her eyes.

“Your skin isn’t crazy pale anymore, and your eyes are their normal color again.”

“Sweet.”

“Cool.”

We both crack up and I lean my forehead against hers as our laughter fades.

Tony interrupts our moment of peace. “This is all good and dandy, but does someone wanna explain what the hell just happened?”

I raise my head and look at my teammates一 my family. “I kicked the purple thumb’s ass. That’s what happened.” I can feel a warm presence in my heart, and I know that my mother is with me.

“Yes, yes, I noticed. I also noticed a bunch of demons. Care to explain that one?”

“They weren’t demons...they were just...the souls...of dead people. I can summon the dead. You knew that.”

“Uh, I definitely didn’t know that.” I laugh and shake my head at the eccentric man.

I stand up, pulling Natasha with me, and bring her into another embrace. “I’m really glad you’re okay, Natty,” I whisper in her ear before pressing a delicate kiss to her temple.

A/N: I literally had this completely finished and edited over a month ago and I hadn’t posted it yet soooooo... idk here it is

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff fic #natasha one shot #black widow #black widow x reader

112 notes · View notes