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haadeswrites · 3 years

Text

Elysium

god this fic took forever i’m so sorry!! but hey, first fic on the new blog! <33 also y’all should really thank @iwaasfairy who listened to me complain about this fic for a solid month, she’s the reason it got finished

Cult leader Oikawa Tooru x female reader

tw: indoctrination, extremely dubious consent, blood, yandere themes, religious themes, minor character death, implied abuse & drug use, mild smut, nsfw

The island itself is breathtaking

Pristine beaches with gleaming white sand, vast swathes of lush, green rainforest and waterfalls that cascade into shimmering pools of crystal clear water. Untouched, undisturbed; a paradise. At least, that’s how Ryuji had described it.

Paradise, but only in the sense that a gingerbread cottage in the middle of the woods is paradise to a lost and hungry child.

He hadn’t been wrong. Bare feet sink into soft, white sand as you climb from the boat - the warmth just toeing the line between pleasant and burning. Gentle waves ebb and flow behind you, and there’s a light breeze that kisses your skin, the taste of seasalt carrying in the wind. Home, it seems to sing.

A laugh sounds somewhere in the distance, yet the only other figure on the beach is a man walking steadily towards you. He smiles when he sees you’ve noticed him; friendly, non-threatening. It’s a far cry from the swarming welcoming committee you’d been dreading, and you wonder if that’s somehow intentional as well.

As the boat pushes back out to sea he comes to a stop before you, “I’m Makki,” he says, pushing the fringe of his hair back and giving you a not-so-subtle once over. Whatever he sees must meet approval, because his grin only widens, “Welcome to the Commune.”

Ryuji wasn’t wrong; the island is a beautiful, deadly thing.

—

You’d never heard of the Commune before the phone call.

And maybe that shouldn’t be so surprising. You’ll be the first to admit you’re hardly an expert, but from what you do know, groups like the Commune – cults – don’t spring up out of thin air and start broadcasting their mistreatment and systematic abuse.

They’re not the kind of people that have sweet old ladies clutching their pearls and mothers shepherding their children away – at least, not in the beginning. Not entirely. They’re not out to recruit extremists to further their cause, they choose to prey on the vulnerable, the lost and the disillusioned. Those easily manipulated. You suspect that’s why when you google the Commune, all you find is a website for what essentially looks like a long term luxury wellness retreat.

‘The Commune is about healing and harmony, about returning to nature, supporting one another to forge a brighter, more holistic future together… a self-sufficient community living apart from technology and other evils of modern society.’

You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you scroll through. There’s a whisper of philosophical teachings woven throughout, a page dedicated to their founder, Oikawa Tooru – smiling handsomely in every single picture, because what would a burgeoning cult be without a charismatic leader – but there’s not enough.

So here you are, on an island hundreds of miles away from home living amongst strangers; because Ryuji wouldn’t have sounded so terrified if this was just some alternate, free-loving bunch of hippies.

And even with all that he’d told you, everything you thought you’d be prepared for, the Commune is like nothing you could’ve imagined.

Makki introduces you to Asuka, a woman only a few years older than yourself, dark haired and stunningly beautiful, and winks as he tells her to take you under her wing. She smiles brightly, eyes twinkling, and pulls you into a heartfelt hug – as if you’ve known each other your whole lives.

“We’re so glad you’re here!” she beams.

You’d like to hate her.

It feels like you're supposed to, sometimes; when she gets that dreamy look in her eyes and starts talking about Oikawa and the Commune and how lucky everyone here on the island is. Yet there’s something about her – the genuine warmth she emanates maybe, or the kindness in her eyes – that makes it difficult for you not to like her.

“You should come to the gathering tomorrow,” she hums idly one afternoon, maybe a week or so after your arrival. The two of you are sitting on the edge of the pier, legs dangling down into the water, tangled fishing nets to be repaired strewn between you.

“I always go,” you reply.

She laughs, fixing you with a knowing look, “And sit right at the very back, all but running off the moment we finish?”

And your traitorous heart skips a beat.

“It’s okay to take things slowly,” she says. “We understand that being a part of the Commune is a big change from the life you knew, and that not everybody is able to see what we see and embrace those changes.”

Asuka sets down the knot she’s working through and reaches for your hand, a gentle smile on her face, “But you shouldn’t be afraid. You’re meant to be here, I can feel it. You just need to stop fighting against it; surrender yourself to us, to the island, and everything’ll make sense, I promise.”

It’s dangerous territory. One wrong word could set off alarm bells, yet you can’t help pressing just a little.

“Do you ever miss it, then? Life outside the Commune?”

Your family. Friends. The life you left behind before you came here to be brainwashed like all of the others.

“Why would I?” she answers without missing a beat, and it’s hard to ignore the bitter flicker of disappointment you feel at her answer. “The island provides for us, we don’t have to spend our days selling off tiny pieces of ourselves just to make ends meet. It’s paradise here, and we have Oikawa to thank for that. Why would I ever want to go back?”

Silence falls between you as you struggle to think of something to say to salvage the situation. Yet Asuka isn’t even looking at you, instead staring out at the water with a strangely pensive expression.

“Did you know I was married once?” The words seemingly out of the blue, you can only shake your head. For a moment, she doesn’t reply, watching as the waves rise and crash offshore. And then;

“I was young, eighteen or so, fresh out of high school and he was a small town cop.” Her eyes flicker to yours, and your heart clenches at the sadness and pain echoing there. “I thought he was a good man, once upon a time.”

A chord strikes deep, your chest tightening involuntarily at her words. It’s not the same, of course it’s not the same, and yet…

No. You stop the errant thought in its tracks. Groups like the Commune prey on the vulnerable, you know this. People like Ryuji, like Asuka, like–

Her fingers squeeze around yours, pulling you back to the present. “Come to the gathering tomorrow. Listen to Oikawa, it’ll help.”

—

She doesn’t give you a choice in the matter – dragging you by the hand to sit right at the front of the gathered crowd that very night.

Oikawa’s handsomer up close; tall and dark haired with pretty eyes and long, sweeping lashes that frame delicate cheekbones, it’s not hard for you to see how a man like him has amassed such an impassioned following.

Once he starts actually speaking, however, you realise that his good looks and charming smile are just the tip of the iceberg. Oikawa’s utterly captivating as he preaches about the cycle of life and death and the paradise that awaits his faithful. Passionate and engaging, he speaks like he truly believes every word of the lies he’s spreading.

And Asuka, her friends, the others gathered, they eat up every word like it’s gospel truth, resounding cheers and thunderous applause deafening around you. In the midst of the rapturous din, Oikawa’s eyes flit to yours.

Slowly, he smiles – a dazzling grin that makes your stomach flip – and everything; Asuka, the noise, the others swarming around you, it all fades away.

For one electrifying heartbeat, you’re frozen in place. Just you and Oikawa, trapped in the pull of each other’s gaze.

—

You can’t forget the reason you came.

But it’s… difficult, in a way you struggle to understand. You only have one purpose for being here, one goal; find Ryuji and bring him home.

And yet, some days it’s like there’s a fog in your mind, and you have to focus to remember why you’re here at all. You catch yourself laughing with Asuka and her friends, the days passing by in a blur of endless, easy distractions.

It barely feels like work when you’re sitting under the shade of the trees, eating the fruits you’ve picked by hand – ripe and sweet, unlike anything you’ve ever tasted – diving off waterfalls into the crystalline water and meandering down the shore collecting seashells. Even when you are working, mending clothes or cooking with the others, it fills you with a sense of contentment you can’t quite explain.

Like you’re a part of something bigger. Like you’re doing something that matters.

Ryuji becomes a distant thought. A whisper in the back of your head, a niggling in your gut, easily brushed aside and ignored until there’s a moment of quiet. In the dead of night, the balmy summer night’s breeze kissing your bare skin, you lie awake, lost in memories of the last time you’d seen him.

Fists angrily pounding at your door, the yelling that gave way to sobs and the hoarse, desperate pleas that followed. Ryuji’s face; pupils blown wide and eyes rimmed in red, darting restlessly around as he held you too tight and begged–

Rolling over in bed, you gaze out your window at the star flecked sky, the shadows of the forest that lie at your doorstep, and wonder what it is that scares you more; that you’ve lost track of the days you’ve been here, and saving Ryuji is starting to feel like an afterthought, or that you could so easily forget all of it, find a place here in the Commune and be happy.

‘The island, it–it fucks with your head.’

Ryuji’d told you that, and you’d brushed it off as paranoia. You need to find him. Find him and get the hell outta dodge.

You can deal with the fallout later.

—

Kiyoshi.

He’d mentioned the name a few times amidst his rambling – a friend of his on the island. You’re annoyed with yourself for not thinking of it sooner, however much like Ryuji himself, trying to focus and remember the name is like wading through thick mud.

Once you do, though, finding him amongst the hundred and fifty or so inhabitants is the easy part.

There’s no strict division between genders within the Commune, however Kyoshi, despite his somewhat lean stature, is among the builders of the island and his path doesn’t often cross with yours.

From Asuka you find out that he’s been a part of the Commune for years now, before even she joined, and that he mostly sticks to himself, though you’ve seen him chatting quietly to a few of the other men, a perpetually angry looking blonde in particular.

It’s the last part that piques her interest, “Why’re you so curious, anyway?” she asks, her face lighting up as a sudden thought occurs. “Do you want me to introduce you two? To be honest, I didn’t think he’d be your type, if you’re interested, though…”

Cheeks aflame, you’re quick to shut her down. “No, no, nothing like that. I’ve just… seen him around and we’ve never really spoken, I guess.”

A lame excuse, though mercifully she lets the subject drop without too much prodding.

Therein, of course, lies the problem. Walking up to Kyoshi and casually trying to drop Ryuji into the conversation without raising red flags is risky, but what other options do you have? You’ve already spent too much time on this island.

Although, maybe Asuka has the right idea.

While you hadn’t been lying when you said you weren’t interested in Kyoshi in that way, nobody else knew that. Who would really look twice at the shy newbie striking up a conversation with the quiet, easygoing man? He wasn’t unattractive per se, and from the brief interactions you’d seen of him, he seemed kind enough.

You have enough patience (barely) to wait for dusk the following night. There’s a celebration, something about the full moon and a blessing on the island and the Commune– you hadn’t really been paying attention when Oikawa had spoken about it. Still, it’s too good an opportunity to pass up. With the fire pits crackling, and the dancing and music and the sweet honey wine flowing freely, nobody will be paying too much attention to what you’ll be doing. Hopefully, the alcohol will also serve to lower Kiyoshi’s guard, and perhaps if you’re really, really lucky, loosen his tongue as well.

Of course, you’re not banking on him telling you exactly where Ryu is or what happened to him– and that’s assuming he actually knows – but at this point you’ll take anything over the nothing you currently have. A tiny slip up, that’s all you’re asking for.

As the sun descends beyond the horizon, you play your role well, laughing and chatting amongst friends, sipping carefully at the cup of wine in your hand as you wait for an opening. And perhaps it’s your nerves working against you, but you find that it’s not just Kiyoshi your attention is drawn to.

Up on the shore, away from the rabble, Oikawa lounges back with a cup of the same honeyed wine you’re pretending to drink. For the most part he seems deep in conversation with Iwaizumi, his right hand, but every once in a while he glances up, letting his gaze roam over the crowd of his followers.

Every inch a king and his general.

And it would seem benevolent, if not for the strange smile he wears – the one that widens when his eyes catch yours.

Swallowing tightly, you force yourself not to dwell on it, to ignore the odd sensation curling in your gut and the way your skin prickles under his attention. Now is not the time to lose focus.

Pushing all thoughts of Oikawa aside, you subtly scan the beach once more, only to find that Kiyoshi’s moved, sitting now on a piece of old driftwood near the bonfire. Alone for the first time tonight.

Your legs are moving before the thought even fully registers.

“Do you mind if I sit?” you ask, gesturing to the empty space on the log beside him.

Kiyoshi smiles, the laugh lines at corners of his eyes crinkling pleasantly, and shakes his head, “Not at all.”

“Thanks.”

Taking another sip of your wine, you will your shoulders to relax, your racing pulse to slow. This has to seem natural, and so you force yourself to hold your tongue, let your head loll back and breathe deep, soaking it all in. You can hear the others in the distance, the music and the dancing, the happy laughter and shouts that beckon – you want to go join them. Even your blood seems to hum, a call of something other pulsing through your veins.

But you pay it no mind. There are more important things to worry about tonight.

Indeed, steel blue eyes have been appraising you curiously for a while now. “This is your first Lunar blessing, isn’t it?” Kiyoshi asks after a moment.

You nod, humming in agreement. Less than a month; you’ve been here less than a month. Is that a good thing?

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

A harmless enough question, and again you nod your head. “Yeah, it’s…” you pause, searching for words that won’t sound hollow. “It’s paradise. I feel like I need to pinch myself just to make sure it’s real.”

He smiles gently. “But?” he probes.

Grimly, you wonder whether Kiyoshi’s usually this perceptive, or if you’re just a really terrible actor. In a way, you suppose it really doesn’t make a difference; you’ve come too far to turn back now – at least not without raising suspicion.

So you lie with a truth, and pray that it works.

“I had a friend I was supposed to meet here,” you confess quietly, gazing not at him but the crackling flames of the bonfire, the burning embers carried off into the night. “He was the one who said I should come, but now I’m here and he’s not and every time I catch myself enjoying this–”

“You feel guilty,” he surmises, cutting you off. “Because he’s not here to enjoy it with you.”

Wordlessly, you nod – and maybe it isn’t so much of an act when your eyes begin to glisten, your smile wavering.

Kiyoshi’s silent for a moment, and you take another sip of the honey wine to hide your nerves. “You shouldn’t, you know,” he says eventually. “Feel guilty, I mean. You belong here, with the Commune. You’re happy here. Paradise… isn’t for everybody.”

He doesn’t say it to be cruel, more like he’s simply stating a fact, and somehow that makes it all the more unnerving. And it’s nothing you haven’t listened to Oikawa preach about time and time again. The Commune is for the devoted, the faithful – the lucky few – and you’ve never thought too hard about what he’d meant by that.

The Commune’s small, maybe a hundred and fifty or so people on the island. There’d been no initiation, no test of faith or trial period you’d had to pass when you arrived – at least, none that you’d been aware of. You simply stepped off the boat and they’d welcomed you with open arms.

An uneasy sensation settles into your gut, goosebumps prickling at your skin despite the heat of the midsummer night.

That… doesn’t make sense. It can’t. Absolute control’s too important in groups like this, they couldn’t just let anyone–

Kiyoshi speaks again, his calm voice pulling you from your thoughts. “What was his name?”

You blink at him slowly – stupidly. “Sorry?”

“Your friend,” he clarifies. “What was his name?”

“Oh, um- Ryuji.”

Kiyoshi’s brow furrows in thought for a moment, but he merely shakes his head, “Doesn’t ring a bell, but like I said, not everyone who arrives stays with us for long.”

He looks you right in the eye as he says it.

You don’t understand the cold, foreboding that seeps through your veins, because he’s lying. He has to be.

Ryuji was here. They were friends, Ryu’d told you that–

Why did you think this stupid plan would work anyway? That he’d tell you anything, much less the truth when this whole fucked up island is full of liars and those too indoctrinated to know the difference?

“You alright?” he asks when abruptly, you shoot to your feet beside him.

And it takes every ounce of willpower you have left to force an easy smile to your lips, raising your cup just a fraction, “Yeah, just gonna go get a refill. Thanks for the talk, Kiyoshi.”

Whether he notices that your wine’s barely touched or not, you don’t care – not as you turn on your heel without another word and head back up the beach.

Your head is pounding, your body trembling – you don’t hear the call of your name until a hand reaches out and grasps at your wrist, spinning you around.

Asuka greets you with a wide grin, Makki and a tall, broad shouldered man you think is called Mattsun standing either side of her – the former’s arm slung casually over her shoulder. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you,” she says. “Come on, we’re gonna go swimming, it’s so pretty out there!”

You glance out towards the ocean. Moonlight bathes the inky blue water, light shimmering off the rippling tide; some of the others are already out there, splashing amongst the waves.

“Clothing optional, of course,” Makki laughs, and Asuka tugs on your wrist once more.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

But you shake your head, slowly pulling your hand from her grip, “I’m not feeling great, I think I’m gonna head back.”

Asuka frowns, concern marring her pretty features. “Are you okay? Do you need us to call Mizo–”

“No,” you say, cutting her off. Healer Mizoguchi is the last person you need to see right now. “I just– I just need to go lie down for a bit. You guys go have fun – enjoy the blessing, I’ll be fine.”

Makki and Asuka share a fleeting look, but it’s Mattsun who interjects before either one of them can speak, “I’ll walk you back, then.”

Your stomach churns. It doesn’t sound like a suggestion.

And the smart thing to do would be to accept his help; the walk from the beach to your villa isn’t far, and while you’re not as familiar with Mattsun as you are with Makki or Asuka, it’s not like he’s going to hurt you or anything, but–

“Really– you don’t need to, it’s fine,” you smile weakly, shuffling back as he reaches to offer you his arm. “Go swim, I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

Mattsun shrugs easily enough, falling back into line with the other two – yet there’s something in the way he grins and holds your gaze for a beat longer. A glimmer of amusement, as if there’s some joke you're not a part of. “I’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.”

The heat that floods your cheeks clashes uncomfortably with the cloying heaviness in your stomach, but somehow you manage to stutter out one last goodbye before turning back to scamper off in the direction of your room.

–But not to lie down.

There’s not a cloud in the sky, and the full moon’s bright. No need for a torch, not unless you decide to venture into the heart of the forest.

You’ve been a fool. Kiyoshi, Asuka, Makki, Mattsun; you can’t trust any of them to help you, even unwittingly. Ryuji’s here on the island – somewhere – and every second that slips away, every second that you allow yourself to forget puts him in further danger.

And so you cling to your discomfort, ground yourself in it. The prickling sensation at the back of your neck, the tightness in your chest as you slip past your villa, keeping low and quiet – they’re a reminder that there is something insidious here on the island, that you have to get out.

You and Ryuji.

He’s here. Away from the others, kept under lock and key as punishment, or maybe being forced to undergo whatever kind of glorified brainwashing they’ve got going on, but here. You need to be smart about this, because while you don’t intend to stop until you find him, tonight will be your best shot – while everyone’s distracted down on the beach.

For the first time in a long time, it feels like you have a clear head.

Creeping through the underbrush, you steer clear of the well trod pathways that lead towards habitation. You’ve been there, and to the docks, and the river.

If they’re still keeping him here (and they are, you refuse to entertain the possibility that it could be otherwise) then it’s not somewhere out in the open. A bird cries out in the distance shattering the calm of the night, and you flinch – but it only serves as another reminder that your time tonight is limited; you cannot afford to delay. You wrack your brain, trying to dredge up memories of the last few weeks, surely you must have seen something–

“Lost?”

The single word, spoken in a deep, gruff voice has your blood running cold.

Slowly, you turn.

Iwa stands behind you in the thicket, his face utterly impassive. Briefly, you contemplate whether it’s worth trying to bluff your way out of this, but Iwa’s eyes narrow, flashing in the dim light and you think better of it.

A sigh escapes you, your shoulders deflating. “Where is he– Ryuji?” you ask; a whisper rather than a demand.

Iwa’s expression gives nothing away. Did he know, or have you handed him the smoking gun of a crime that’d fallen through the cracks? Does it even matter anymore? You’re just–

You’re tired.

Exhausted. In the space of a few moments all of that shining determination and resolve; it fled, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. This has to end, you can’t keep fighting against them forever. You can’t keep drowning in this guilt, feeling torn every second that you spend here on this stupid island. You just want to find Ryuji and go home.

… Right?

A tense beat passes as Iwa appraises you, and then; “Come with me.”

The hand he places on your shoulder doesn’t give you much choice. His grip isn’t what you’d describe as gentle, yet he’s careful enough to make sure you don’t trip or stumble as he marches you north.

In the thick of the forest away from the beach, it’s eerily quiet. Every twig that snaps underfoot, every ragged breath you draw; it feels too loud. Out of place amongst the stillness of the midsummer night.

And isn’t it ironic, that for the first time since you set foot in this paradise, you feel like you’re trespassing?

A bead of sweat trickles down from your temple and your mind unwittingly drifts back to Mattsun and Makki. Are they still swimming with Asuka? Probably, you reason. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly how long it’s been since you left them on the beach, but surely no more than an hour.

And strangely, like water drawn from the depths of a well, an image comes to mind; the four of you standing in the waves, you perched atop Mattsun’s shoulders, screaming and giggling in delight as Asuka tries to knock you down again, two sets of eyes watching from the shore…

You should have stayed on the beach.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask,” he replies drily – humouring you, you suppose.

Your lips quirk upwards for the briefest of moments. “What happens on the Lunar blessing? Asuka, the others– no one told me what it was.”

Iwaizumi doesn’t answer you immediately, but you feel his fingers reflexively tighten on your shoulder. Likely it wasn’t the question he was expecting; surely there were others that you could have asked – but you don’t really want the answers to those.

If you’re being led like a lamb to proverbial slaughter, what good would it do you to know it?

And yet as the seconds pass and no answer seems forthcoming from your captor, you resign yourself to the fact that your curiosity will remain unsated. You don’t even know what prompted you to ask in the first place; knowing Oikawa it’s probably some grand, meaningless spectacle. Pretty, hollow words spoken only to–

A heavy sigh draws you from your thoughts, and you falter in your step, almost tripping over your own feet in the process. Iwa’s quick to right you, urging you forward with a less than gentle nudge. “Walk straight,” he grunts, yet it lacks any true heat. Anticipation flutters through your veins, and he mutters a soft curse behind you. “Fine. It… it’s an exchange.”

An exchange? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Your eyebrows draw together, mouth opening to press the matter, but Iwa beats you to the punch.

“You’ll find out for yourself soon enough, now shut up.”

You have no response to that, so you do.

—

The two of you walk in silence for what feels like hours. Eventually, the terrain becomes steeper, the worn path you’re treading twisting and winding, and you realise you must be close to the mountains at the heart of the island.

As your breath comes in heavy pants, your legs beginning to ache, you can’t help but be lost in the beauty of it all.

The flora’s different here, unlike any you’ve seen before. Flowers bursting from the bark of towering trees, blooms of vibrant hues; reds and purples and soft, baby pinks. Even the vines at your feet curl amongst pretty white buds that gleam invitingly under the moonlight. Your jaw falls open as you gaze around in wonderment.

You forget why you’re walking, where it is that you’re heading. Iwa’s grip relaxes as a quiet gasp escapes you, and he doesn’t stop you when you stray from the path to take a closer look. You can’t resist reaching out to touch the silken petals, leaning in to smell their perfume. Soft and light and sweet, your eyes flutter shut, a smile creeping across your visage.

It reminds you of home. Not your actual home – the rundown, tiny shoebox apartment you gave up before you came here – but something deeper.

Home, like the long summer days spent playing in your parents’ backyard. Home, like afternoons curled up by the window, watching the rain come down in sheets outside.

Home, like the comfort of arms wrapped around you; two hearts beating in sync.

“C’mon,” Iwa interrupts after a minute or so, his voice a touch less gruff. “We’re almost there.”

Dazed, you find yourself nodding, allowing him to guide you back to the path. This time, he doesn’t grab you by the shoulder, seemingly content enough to walk by your side.

True to his word, it’s only another few minutes before you see it; a wooden villa, four times the size of your own and far, far grander, set amongst a clearing of trees on the mountainside. Confused, your eyes flicker from the villa to Iwa and back again. Gossamer curtains billow lightly in the breeze, a warm, inviting glow spilling from the open windows. Surely this cannot be where he meant to lead you… and yet he merely stands at your side, arms folded across his broad chest, watching you expectantly.

“You gonna make me carry you up there?” he asks, not unkindly.

Swallowing tightly, you shake your head.

Another glance, and you catch a shadow lingering by the window. Your heart skips a beat, apprehension curling in your gut as you begin to walk, every step feels less steady than the last. You’re almost glad when Iwa takes you by the arm; if only so that you have something to focus on other than the growing tightness in your chest. The villa, with its pretty flowers and airy, elegant grandeur is far from the isolated cell you’d been afraid of, yet the uncertainty of what you’re walking into eats at you all the same.

Is this where they’ve been keeping Ryu, or has he brought you here for another reason?

Nothing, however, can prepare you for what you find inside. Warm light emanates from lanterns that bathe the room, and your eyes widen as you stare around you.

Strange, gold carvings inlaid with mother of pearl decorate the thick, woodens support beams, a pot of incense burns on a table overflowing with fresh fruit. There’s a jug of the same honeyed wine you’d drank earlier in the night and two cups set on an ornate stand nearby – just within arms reach of one of the chaise lounges.

Iwa affords you little time to gape, drawing you further in. Silken tapestries hang from the walls – you’re pulled along too quickly to truly take note, but the brief glimpses you get hint at a story; a divine being cast from his home, lost and wandering.

It tugs at something buried within you, and uncomfortable, you tear your eyes away.

The two of you reach a closed door at the end of the hall, and Iwa pulls you to a stop, knocking once.

“Come,” a familiar voice calls.

You stiffen, though perhaps you should have foreseen this outcome. Who else would Iwa bring you to but to him? Distantly, you register his grip relaxing, the sound of the door sweeping open and his voice at your ear.

“Go on.”

And it’s funny, you think, how two halves of yourself can be so at odds with each other. Because while your stomach twists itself into knots, goosebumps prickling at your skin, your legs stumble forward of their own accord.

Two steps forward, and your breath catches in your throat.

It’s a bedroom, that much you can deduce from the decor, but that’s not what captures your attention. Nor is it Oikawa, leaning against the bureau with a genial smile – at least not at first.

No. In place of a back wall, there’s open space, not so much as a panel of glass obstructing the view before you. And what a view it is; from this height you can see the sprawling forest below, the coastline dotted with bonfires and the moonlit ocean shimmering beyond. Where the floorboards end, there are steps, you realise as you unwittingly inch closer, leading to a cascading spring – likely fed from the waterfall you can hear rushing nearby.

How easy it would be to brush aside your worries, you think, to shed your clothes, slip into the cool, calm water and lose yourself entirely. Even amongst all you’ve seen and experienced on the island so far, this is incomparable.

“Stunning, isn’t it?” Oikawa murmurs, coming up behind you.

His voice startles you, yet when you turn, you find him not gazing out at the scenery but rather at you, that same strange, knowing smile curling at his lips.

“Some days, I admit, it’s hard to tear myself away,” he continues, unbothered by your stunned silence. “But even I can’t neglect my duties for too long.”

You swallow, tongue darting out to wet your lips. Confusion twists through you at the conversational tone, surely he hasn’t brought you here just to chat about the impressive views, yet there’s no hint of disapproval on his face, no indication that he’s anything less than pleased with you.

It’s unnerving to say the least, but you’ll play along with his game if that’s what Oikawa wants.

“Beautiful,” you say, though the words feel woefully inadequate even as you speak them.

He hums in agreement, something akin to pride flickers in his eyes at your assessment, “A labour of love, I suppose. But… everything you see here, everything I’ve built, it comes with a price. You understand that, don’t you?”

“I-I’m sorry?” you stutter.

“Paradise,” he elaborates, his smile widening. “There’s no give without take. Those people down there,” he nods down at the beach, the tiny, ant-like figures still milling about, “the lost, the beaten, the abused – I gave them what they so desperately sought; a sanctuary. A life without struggle, without suffering.” He pauses for a moment, reaching forward to take your hand. You almost flinch, almost skitter across the room to put as much distance between you as you can, but you don’t–

His palm is warm as it envelops yours, a pleasant heat that seems to spread through your veins, easing your tense muscles. There’s nothing to fear from him, you’re safe with Oikawa.

“Aren’t you happy here?”

Yes.

“What about the price?” you ask instead, though it takes more concentration than it should to force the words out.

Oikawa’s thumb sweeps along the back of your hand. “I never said it was your price to pay,” he soothes.

There’s something wrong with that sentence, but another sharp knock at the door draws your attention before you can think too hard about it. You turn out of instinct, barely aware of the way his hand tightens fractionally around your own.

A single finger at your jaw coaxes your attention back to him. “If you built a paradise, wouldn’t you give whatever necessary to ensure it flourished?”

Oikawa stares at you expectantly, deep brown eyes searching your face as he waits for an answer. Agreement would be the logical choice – the one he seems to want from you – but even as your lips part, the only sound that escapes is a breathless, confused noise.

When you were a kid, maybe six or seven, your parents took you to the beach one day and you waded too far out into the water. The waves were bigger than you expected; all it took was one mistimed jump and you were dragged under.

It wasn’t for long, probably only seconds, and ultimately you were fine – but you remember those few seconds so vividly. The feeling of helplessly tumbling through the water, fighting to break the surface but not knowing which way was up. Your lungs crying out for oxygen, the disorientation and dizziness, the panic.

It feels like that now – like the floor’s dropped out from beneath you and you’re just hurtling through empty air, desperately trying to slow yourself down with nothing to grab onto.

None of this makes any sense. Your emotions are shot to pieces, too many parts of yourself being pulled in different directions and you’re not sure which ones you can trust anymore. How can you be? Oikawa’s still holding your hand, smiling at you, and you just want everything to stop for a second so you can right yourself and breathe–

The door opens.

Iwaizumi appears in your field of vision, dragging a bound, hooded figure behind him. And because this is all some big, cosmic joke, you get your wish. Both of them, actually.

Time slows.

Even with a burlap sack pulled over his head, you recognise the man Iwa shoves to the floor and sneers at.

Hundreds of miles, weeks of uselessly traipsing around this fucking island, and finally–

Finally, you’ve found Ryu.

There should be relief. Fear, considering his current state, yes, but Ryuji’s here and he’s alive and as the hood is ripped off his head Oikawa squeezes your hand and the only thing you feel is… anger.

Not a heated flash that surges through your blood. It’s slow and seething, insipid. You look at him, locked in place as empty, pleading eyes meet yours and all you can think is that all of this – everything – is his fault.

“Asuka told you why she came to me, didn’t she?” Oikawa asks.

Your brow furrows, why–why is he asking you that now, how did he even–

He slips closer behind you, letting your hand go in favour of your shoulder, his spare dragging lightly along the bare skin of your arm. “She was lost, in so much pain. The physical wounds, they heal after a while,” his voice is right in your ear, a low murmur that sends a shiver rippling down your spine.

It isn’t an unpleasant feeling.

“But the scars inside, well… sometimes those fester.”

Gagged and bound, kneeling at your feet, Ryu doesn’t even try to make a sound.

He’s thinner than you remember. Face gaunt and bruised; there’s a half healed, mottled yellow one painted across the left side of his jaw, one eye purple and swollen. You glance at Iwa, standing stoically behind him, muscular arms folded across his chest. His work, you wonder, or others as well? You notice the tear tracks running down his face, catching the light of the lanterns, but it’s as if you’re seeing it all through a thick pane of glass. None of it reaches you, there’s nothing but that simmering, ugly feeling in your gut.

Oikawa hums, “I told you that Paradise wasn’t for everyone. It’s a haven, yes, but there are those who simply… don’t belong.”

His body’s so warm, pressed up against yours. Fingertips graze along your side, and this time you don’t bother biting back that tiny, breathless moan. Iwa briefly smirks at it, but there’s no embarrassment. Why should there be? Your eyes flit back to Ryu, bowed on the wooden floor.

Another memory resurfaces; A sharp crack and a ringing in your ears, Ryuji, eyes bloodshot and glazed, falling to his knees, clutching frantically at the leg of your pants as endless apologies spill from his lips.

It wasn’t him. It was never him.

“He hurt you,” Oikawa purrs. “He kept hurting you, I saw it.”

The words wash over you like waves breaking on the shore, but you find yourself nodding anyway. It was the truth, wasn’t it? A thousand tiny hurts, piled up on one another until you finally broke.

And you’d still come when he’d called.

Listened to him when he’d begged you not to hang up the phone.

“Iwa.”

The brunet moves towards a grand chest of drawers pushed up against the western wall. An ornate dagger sits atop, strange and beautiful; the blade isn’t steel or any metal you’ve seen before, but some kind of black stone, the handle intricately carved ivory. You hadn’t even noticed it before, Oikawa’s room filled to the brim with odd trinkets and treasures, but now that you have, it’s hard to tear your eyes away.

Iwa takes it and carries it over towards the two of you, holding it with the utmost care.

“Obsidian,” Oikawa informs you as he accepts the blade from his friend, bringing it in front of you both to show it off. “Pretty, isn’t it?” And while you can’t see his face, you can hear the smile in his tone.

He isn’t wrong though.

Ever so carefully you reach out, the soft pads of your fingertips running along the obsidian surface, surprisingly cool to the touch. The razor sharp edges – wavy and asymmetrical, leading to a tapered point – you’re careful to avoid, almost positive you’d draw blood with the slightest touch.

“Take it,” he urges, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

Obediently, you turn your hand over, your fingers wrapping around the hilt when he presses it against your palm. And as long fingers curl around yours, you idly wonder how old the dagger is – there’s not so much as a scratch on it, yet there’s something about the weapon in your hand that feels ancient. It thrums under your combined touch.

Oikawa jerks his chin at Iwa, and with a short nod and one last, lingering glance cast your way, the latter exits once again.

Leaving you and Oikawa alone with Ryuji.

“It’s almost time,” he remarks – though time for what, you’re not entirely sure. His lips press against your hair, his arm dropping from your shoulder to your waist, drawing you flush against him. “I know why you came to me, the lies that led you here.”

Both of you turn your attention back to Ryuji at that, the bound man now shaking with the force of his muffled sobs, snot dripping from his nose. That bitter resentment rears its ugly head again, soothed only by Oikawa’s pacifying hum, his thumb now rubbing slow circles at your side. “Shh, I’m not angry – none of that matters now. You’ve found a home here, no? You want to stay on the island with me.”

You swallow, nodding your head rapidly. The thought of having to leave now, of being forced out after everything you’ve seen and felt and experienced here, you– you can’t fathom it. You don’t want to.

Ryuji’d wrought so much damage, but even before he’d swept through your life… had you ever been happy? Were you ever truly accepted – or loved, for that matter?

You can’t go back to that life. You won’t; he’ll have to drag you kicking and screaming from the shore. The Commune is your home, this is where you belong. Here, with Oikawa.

“Good girl,” he croons, another kiss pressed to the crown of your head. You beam at the praise and Ryuji crumples a little further. “Death begets life, you understand now, don’t you?”

You glance at the obsidian dagger in your hand and then at Ryu, beaten and bruised, bowed in forced supplication before you, and nod.

His fingers tighten around yours, “Then do it.”

Leaning forward, you reach for Ryu, fingers lightly trailing down his ruined cheek, curling at his chin to coax his head upwards. He squeezes his eyes shut, pain and regret etched over every inch of his face, but he doesn’t fight you.

Baring his throat to your dagger, Ryuji’s pleas take the shape of your name.

Muffled, thanks to the gag, but unmistakable. And for one single moment, you falter.

This… this is wrong; for all his faults, and god knows there were plenty, Ryu didn’t des–

A wave of calm washes over you, allaying your fears, your doubts. Your breath leaves you in a heavy gust, taking with it the tension in your shoulders, and Oikawa’s voice, smooth and honeyed, reaches your ears once more, “Nothing comes without a price, doesn’t he deserve to be the one to pay it?”

With your hand still tucked inside of his, your arm moves with a will of its own; slashing with inhuman grace.

The dagger cuts deep, Ryuji’s eyes snapping open in shock as a spray of warm blood hits you both. He chokes – a horrid, wet, gurgling sound – wide, pleading eyes frantically shifting between you and Oikawa. Every beat of his failing heart sends fresh blood spurting from the gaping wound. It drenches his front, splatters across your dress, your face, crimson pooling at the wooden floorboards at his knees. His mouth falls open and shut, trying and failing to form coherent sounds and you just stand there and watch, the dagger hanging limply at your side.

It doesn’t take long; seconds at the most.

Ryuji’s slumps to the floor, his body finally growing still as the light fades from his eyes. There’s a beat of absolute silence, and then–

Oikawa shudders behind you, a strangled, drawn out moan leaving his lips. You try to turn, but his arms lock around you, every muscle tensing, his back arching. The dagger in your hand grows hot, burning the soft skin of your palm, but with his fingers still tightly entwined with yours you can only whimper and endure it.

With a hoarse, guttural roar, a pulse of pure energy surges through the room like a shockwave. Every cell in your body lights up, electrified, buzzing; a dizzying euphoria unlike any you’ve felt before coursing through your blood.

Across the island, voices cry out in delight, a symphony of life. The trees tremble and shake, invigorated and renewed, fresh buds bursting from the forest floor, blooming under the light of the full moon.

The harvests flourish, even the river swells in response to the call.

Death begets life, just as he promised.

And with every inch of your body alight and singing with pleasure, you can barely think much less protest (and why would you want to?) as Oikawa roughly yanks you around, hungry lips crashing against your own as his fingers pull and tear at your bloodstained dress. He wastes no time with foreplay, and you suspect only begrudgingly takes a moment to hoist you up against him and carry you to his bed.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he hauls your hips to his, sheathing his cock inside of your warm, tight cunt with one savage thrust, but you don’t care.

Not as you cling to him, fingernails raking along his shoulders as he presses your thighs further apart so he can fuck you deeper. It’s hard and rough and brutal, yet you moan for him all the same, his name a prayer swallowed up by feverish, claiming kisses.

Tonight, bathed in blood and the soft glow of moonlight, you offer your god everything.

—

“Look, look!”

A small hand tugs at your skirt, and you glance down to find a little girl with pretty, dark curls holding up a crown of woven flowers.

“Do you like it?” she asks.

Carefully, you take it from her, bringing it closer to examine. She watches you intently as you study it, lifting it this way and that to appraise her work, humming thoughtfully for good measure. “I think it’s beautiful work,” you tell her after a long enough pause, and you can’t help but smile at the way she lights up, preening under your praise. “Why don’t you go show your mama? I’m sure she’ll be very impressed.”

The girl nods rapidly, thanking you before skipping off in the direction of her parents. The sun’s hanging low in the sky, the fires already being readied for the night ahead. You’re not unaware of the watchful gaze that carefully monitors your every move, and the moves of anyone who ventures too close by. Soon enough, you’ll return home to the heart of the island – anticipation fluttering in your belly at the thought of what awaits you – but for now, you let your feet sink further into the sand, closing your eyes as you bask in the lingering warmth of the setting sun.

At least until the sound of your name being called draws you back to the present. Yet it’s not Iwaizumi approaching, but rather Makki, two strangers trailing along behind him.

“Thought I’d find you here,” he grins, throwing a casual arm over your shoulders. “This is Kaneo,” he gestures to the man, “and his wife Manaka. They arrived this morning, I’ve been showing ‘em round.”

You turn to the couple, smiling sweetly as you extend a hand, “Welcome to the Commune.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa x reader #yandere oikawa tooru #yandere oikawa #yandere oikawa tooru x reader #cult au #tw: religious themes #tw: dubcon #tw: blood #tw: minor character death #tw: abuse #hades.dark #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader

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callme-barnes · 3 years

Text

Besitos

*Pictures are not mine*

Summary: Demons can be fun, at least you know you can be. When you go out to claim a soul as yours, Bucky finds you and it only adds on to the fun.

Pairing: Demon!Bucky x Demon!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: SMUT (Demon!Bucky is a sin), oral sex (f! receiving), rough sex, slight daddy kink, blood kink (if you squint), talk of religion (not much), dirty talk

IF YOU ARE A MINOR PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT! THIS WORK IS FOR THOSE 18+ ONLY!

A/N: Again, this work is 18+ only!. Do not repost my work anywhere! This is a one-shot based off of a series I really want to put out at some point. I've been having a tough go of it and this work Ade me feel better to write. Please do not judge my smut writing as I am still pretty new to it. All mistakes are mine. But otherwise please enjoy and feel free to interact with me if you liked it! Enjoy ladies & gents!

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Y/N watched from the comfort of a dark corner at the bar at all the bodies dancing underneath the strobe lights of the club. It had hit its peak at about 1 in the morning, and it was the right time for you to strike the target you had come here to find.

His name was John, a pretty good looking man by human standards. Tall, dark and handsome as you once would’ve described him. Had a beautiful pregnant fiance at home by the name of Lily who was ready to give birth to a handsome baby boy any day now by what you could gather from Lily’s pleas for help. You had overheard her one night, crying herself to sleep as she prayed to God to help her make sense of her situation. She was stuck at home, waiting for a man who would go out and have fun with his friends. And other women.

She had prayed for clarity, safety and a change of heart for him. And strength and courage for herself. To be able to keep her fiance and to change what was wrong with her. Of course nothing was wrong with Lily. She was pregnant, ready to burst at any second. She was bringing a life into this world, risking her body and her health and for what? For a man who refused to change his way of life because that’s what he had grown accustomed to? Or in his words, “To be a slave to a family?”

You had found yourself in that situation once, praying to God for a man that couldn’t give a shit less if you had dropped dead. As long as he maintained his freedom and habits all was well. Instead the man you had grown to love had left you for a cute petite brunette, claiming you had been smothering him with your “jealousy” and your “excessive” calls when you only wanted to be with him.

Your praying touched upon deaf ears of course and it was then that you realized no one was out there to protect you. You were on your own to deal with the hardships of your life.

Until you met him. James Barnes.

He had been your savior when you were ready to give up all hope. Bucky, as you’ve grown to call him, had given you strength and a new life. A life devoted to taking what you wanted and not being sorry about it. A life devoted to him. But that was a tale for another time.

That’s how you ended up appearing to the poor young woman. Sat in her bed, in pain both physically and emotionally. You had appeared before her dressed in a beautiful black dress, the slit high up your thigh and a pair of your favorite black stilettos. She had been scared. As she should have been. Your power emanated before her, putting her in a trance before you disappeared into the shadows, sending her a small devilish grin.

You set your plan into motion when you saw him headed for the restroom area. He was intoxicated beyond his logical mind, which was just the way you liked them. Downing the remainder of your drink, you made your way to the back area, the sea of people splitting as you walked past them making a direct walkway to your destination. When you stood in front of the mens room, those who waited in line stared with hunger. Intensity. Desire. Your hand reached out to touch one of their gawking faces before sending him a wink and walking in after John. The light cheering on the other end of the door made you smile as you locked it behind you and walked towards the sink counter. You perched yourself on top of it, the red lights casting a hellish glow across your skin.

The stall door opened and you felt your insides twist in anticipation as John walked out, his eyes blinking to focus and his hands holding onto the wall for stability and guidance.

Showtime.

You watched as John made his way to the sinks before finally realizing he wasn’t alone, stopping just a foot in front of you. Your leg shifting up to cross over your other, the slit in your dress falling to either side to give him a nice little peek of your ass.

“Hey there handsome”

You were laying it on thick sure, but you weren’t going to lie, you were excited for this one. It hit a little too close to home for you and you were practically bursting open at the seams.

“Who...who are you?”

“I’ve been watching you all night you know. Trying to muster up the courage to approach you and talk to you”

He almost immediately dropped his guard, his vibrations shifting from reserved to open and ready. Good.

“Well hot stuff here we are. And you found me, here all vulnerable. Naughty girl”

You smiled at him as you stood up, your heels clicking on the tile as you reached over to grab his shirt and pull him close to you, pressing your body up against his own.

“Oh I can be very naughty”, you said and leaned up to kiss him. Your tongue slithered against his own, your pace slow waiting for him to respond. Which he did and quickly. His hands reached out to rest on your ass, his hands squeezing and bringing you in to rub against the hard on he was sporting. You sent him a small moan in response, obviously fake but that only spurred him on further.

His hands reached down to just underneath your ass before you pushed away from him and moved to perch yourself back up on the counter making sure to make a show of opening your legs to invite him in.

“I’ve been really lonely. I haven’t had a man in so long baby”

He was entranced by you, his focus resting on your open thighs and practically foaming at the mouth.

“You know how hard it is to find a single honest man in this city? I noticed you weren’t wearing a ring and you came here by yourself. Are you lonely too?”

This was it, the opportunity for your prey to make amends. You weren’t completely heartless, you had been human once. You had made mistakes too, so you always gave them a chance. Yet 99% of the time, they failed. So you got a chance to have some fun. Your eye contact didn’t falter as you ran your hand down between the valley of your breasts, the other trailing up to reveal the lacy thong you were wearing.

“Fuck...yes I’m....I’m so lonely”

There it was. The opportunity you were looking forward to because let's face it you knew this piece of shit was too set in his ways to repent. You sent him a smile as your fingers began to rub at yourself over your panties, letting out a small moan to coax him in.

“You wanna fuck me? It’s been so long since I’ve had a real man fuck me good”

He closed his eyes, letting out a shuddering breath before walking over and settling himself between your open legs, his hands grasping at your thighs, “Fuck me Johnny boy”

You moved up to kiss him again, this time more aggressively as your innocent facade began to slip away.

“Now I know there’s a God”

You stopped yourself from laughing or scoffing as your hands moved down to rub at his cock through his jeans, watching him as he tore his lip open with how hard he was biting down and you leaned up, making sure you pressed your body against him to give him one last little feel, moving your lips to his ear

“No God here John. Only me”

As you made your way to unbuckle his pants he hesitated a bit and you leaned back “What’s wrong baby? I thought you wanted to fuck me? Don’t you want to?”

“Yes I...fuck I do. Did you ask my friends my name? I don’t think I ever got yours?”

You watched a shadow move from behind John and before you could respond you saw him. Coming out of the shadows looking as handsome as the devil himself. Bucky.

“What does it matter? Don’t you just want to get inside me?”

As you spoke you made eye contact with Bucky from behind John’s shoulders as you leaned back and opened your legs up to give him a view. You smirked to yourself as Bucky’s demeanor changed and before John could get another word out you watched his eyes widen in fear, finally catching onto Bucky in the mirror’s reflection but by then it was too late. Bucky’s hand had reached into John’s back and grabbed onto his heart, squeezing tight before John collapsed lifeless onto the floor.

You watched him, standing up and looking down at him before shifting to Bucky with a smile, “That was my soul to take”

Bucky watched you, his eyes darkening in discontent “I really wish you’d keep your hands to yourself when taking your souls babygirl”

You leaned against the counter and shrugged, “Where’s the fun in that? Besides, how else would I get you all riled up and angry?”

Bucky was in front of you in a blink, his hand wrapping around your throat as he pressed himself up against you. The proximity of the man in front of you made you melt, your body immediately submitting to him as he stared at you. If you had a soul you were sure he’d be looking into it.

“Is that what it is? You like when I’m angry and jealous?”

You fluttered your eyelashes at him, “You’ve been so busy baby. I’ve had to fill the void with what I could take”

That didn’t make him loosen his hold or react, he just kept staring at you as if to say it was your move now and who were you if not an amazing actress.

“We both know I belong to you. And I wouldn’t want to fuck anyone else but you”

You moved your hand to grab onto his own that was pressed against your neck, leaning down to take two of his fingers into your mouth and began sucking on them. Bucky’s chest rumbled with a growl as he stood before you mesmerized, his dick twitching against his black dress pants he had on.

“I brought us an audience daddy,” you said when you pulled away from his hand a small trail of spit following your lips “You know how much I love it when people hear us fucking. It gets me so wet just thinking about all those guys out there wanting to get in my panties while my one and only is fucking me stupid”

That had done it for him, he slammed you against the mirror behind you causing it to break and fall around you as he took your lips in his, kissing you sloppy and animalistic. You let out a moan and a smile in victory, pressing your body into him not caring if you cut your hand on the shards that surrounded you. Bucky grabbed onto the point where your dress slit ended on your hip and tore the fabric open, making you gasp “This is my favorite dress”

“I’ll buy you another”

His growl tore through you, going straight to your aching core causing you to begin grinding against his dick for some relief. You reached your hand up to lick the trail of blood from your hand that was cut open making a show of it, your tongue trailing against your finger before motioning for him to get close. You pulled him into you and kissed him, hearing him moan into your mouth as you shamelessly continued grinding against him

“I want your dick daddy. Fuck I want it so bad. Need you to fuck me please. My pussy is so wet for you”

Bucky reached down and tore your panties from your body, his fingers trailing along your slit and gathering your wetness onto his fingers before slipping them into his mouth, moaning in response “Fuck you know just how to get me going little one. Want me to eat you out you little minx? Do you want to come on my tongue?”

You whined as you nodded and lifted your legs, your heels propping themselves up onto the counter to open up for him “Please. Want to cum on your tongue daddy. Make me cum please”

Bucky kneeled down in front of your open thighs and wasted no time as he leaned in and began to lick at every crevice he could reach and even some you didn’t know he could reach. His tongue worked from your entrance all the way up to your clit, making quick work of it. You moaned out obscenely, your hand reaching down to grip his hair and pressing him further into you as you grind your pussy down onto his face. You pleaded and moaned louder as he sucked and licked at you, your heels falling onto his back and digging into his skin. He hissed in response but otherwise kept at it, licking and sucking and repeating until you felt that familiar twist in your stomach.

“Oh fuck...yes please. Please give it to me, make me cum for you daddy. Shit yes!”

You made sure to be as loud as you wanted knowing the audience that had gathered on the other side of the restroom door. Bucky hit that one spot on your clit over and over again, causing your toes to curl in your heels and your back to arch up dramatically. Your eyes rolled up as you came loud and hard, your body convulsing and your thighs squeezing his head as he continued to suck. You attempted to push him away as you felt your body become too sensitive which only caused him to pin you down harder on the counter as he continued

“I...I can’t. Wait….oh fuck”

But he was a demon possessed as he kept going before you felt yourself come again, harder this time as you gripped onto the sink the pressure causing you to snap one of the handles clean off. You felt your release flow out of you as Bucky pulled away and wiped his lips with the back of his hand “Shit I love it when you do that for me”

His shirt was wet with your orgasm and he sent you a smirk as he undid his pants, bringing his cock out as he stroked it. You watched him in awe as you smiled at him, your eyes just as black as his as he reached over to pick you up and slammed you against the nearest wall. You gasped, wrapping your legs around his hips to bring him close, feeling his cock hard against your core.

“Fuck me. My pussy wants you so bad”

Bucky smirked at you before lining himself up and pushing into you fully in one thrust. You let your head rest back against the wall, unable to form a sound when you tried to moan before he began to slam up into you. He fucked you like an animal, all teeth and hands and no emotion. The air of authority fell off of him and made you moan and squeal every time he slid past that spot inside of you. Your nails made work, scratching at his neck when you tried to hold on, at his back causing his shirt to rip open and at the upper part of his ass so you could bring him closer to you.

“I want another out of you little one. I want you to cum all over my dick before I cum inside of this tight pussy you understand me? You gonna do that for me baby? Gonna….shit, gonna give me another one?”

“Oh fuck yes daddy I’ll do it. Anything for you, anything”

He pounded into you at a relentless pace, the vibrations coming off of the two of you causing the lights to flicker in small space and the doors to the stalls to shake on the hinges. When you felt your third orgasm coming you leaned in to kiss him and bite at his bottom lip roughly. You graced him with the most pornographic sounds you had in you, urging him on before you came, your walls gripping onto him like a vice not wanting to let him go. Bucky groaned and let his head fall back before he gripped your hips and began to take full control, using his strength to pull you down on him harder to get into you deeper. The force caused you to slam against the tile wall as you held onto him for salvation.

“Talk to me baby” he said as he used a hand to grab your jaw and made you look at him, “You know how much I love hearing you talk filthy to me”

Your walls spasmed around him as you felt what could have been another orgasm coming as you kept eye contact with him

“Oh daddy, I want you to come inside me. Want you to fill me completely with your cum. I want to be able to feel you inside of me for days. Please give it to me, please cum for me. You make me feel so good baby. Give it to me, fuck give it to me”

Your words drove him to the edge, his hips stuttering as he pushed into you again and he spilled himself inside of you, his orgasm also spurring on another of your own. Bucky’s hands grabbed onto you and pulled you in tightly as he rode out his release into you, pulling out slowly and pushing any cum that was slipping out back into you. You had a dumb smile on your face and you kissed him and pulled away.

“Want to finish this somewhere a little more private?”

Bucky listened to you finally hearing the cheers on the other side of the door and he smirked to himself as he leaned in to kiss you once again and set you on your feet so he could adjust himself, “You really are a bad girl”

You hummed in response as you looked in the mirror and fixed your eyeliner a bit, stepping over the dead body on the floor and you looked down “Almost forgot he was in here”

Bucky chuckled to himself and moved to take a hold of your waist. “What did this poor bastard do?”

“He has a pregnant fiance at home. Figured someone should teach him about consequences so he could use it in his next lifetime”

Bucky let out a deep but loud laugh as he squeezed you to him, “Let’s get outta here”

You smiled as you moved to unlock the bathroom door and allowed it to open a bit before walking back to Bucky and shifting out of the bathroom. You stood right outside and when you heard screaming and commotion you grinned in delight before walking towards Bucky who was waiting for you.

“Thank you”

You leaned up to kiss his cheek and looked down at you with admiration, “What for little one?”

“For blessing me with a new life worth living”

Bucky smiled as you both made your way down the busy street, ignoring the looks you got at your obvious physical state. His lips kissed your temple and he pulled you closer into him, “You deserve it. Now, my place or yours?”

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #james buchanan barnes smut #james buchanan barnes imagine #demon!bucky #demon!reader #marvel smut #bucky barnes #dark fic #demon smut

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writethelifeyouwant · 3 years

Text

Always With The Scissors

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader / Dean Winchester x Reader / Sam x Dean Rating: 18+ Tags: sloppy seconds, voyeurism, angst, objectification of women, slut shaming, dirty talk, cum play, pining!Dean Word Count: 2.9k Created for: @spnkinkbingo - Objectification | @negans-lucille-tblr - Man Crush Monday: Sam and Dean / Two for Tuesdays: Smangst / Sinful Sunday: Sloppy Seconds A/N: Super big congratulations of 7,000 followers!! You deserve every single one and many many more ❤️

Dean has a very specific kink. He knows it makes him sound a little creepy... okay, a lot creepy – okay, he is actually a full-on creep – but he never cums harder than he does when he's inside a girl his little brother's just fucked. And it’s not that his brother has awesome taste in girls and Dean is just jealous and wants in on the fun too. It’s not even that he has a big kink for sloppy seconds. It had never appealed to him before they started playing this sick sort of game they’ve been playing since Sam decided he was over Jess enough to start sleeping around again (he knew Sam was nowhere near ready for another relationship).

Dean remembers eyeing up a petite little thing at the bar once and then noticing Sam checking her out not too long after. Ever the gracious big brother, and not creepily concerned with Sam’s sex life, Dean figured he’d bow out and let Sam take the swing at this one — but then Sam caught Dean looking at her too, and tried to back down to let Dean have at it. Dean couldn’t have that. So he suggested the ploy that got them where they are now, they play Rock Paper Scissors for the chance to shoot their shot; Dean always loses Rock Paper Scissors.

The part of the night they hadn’t anticipated was the girl they’d been ogling spotting them playing a game for the chance to fuck her, and suggesting that they don’t need to choose, they can just take turns. That had been the game changer.

Listening to Sam fuck her stupid through the wall of the motel room is seriously hot, and Dean has to fight to keep his hand out of his pants the whole time he sits waiting, hearing Sam grunt out filth that he never imagined he’d hear from his little brother’s mouth. And when Sam lopes back through the adjoining door between their rooms with sex ruffled hair and a smirk, with a quick aside of ‘She’s all yours’ before he ducks into the bathroom for a shower, Dean swears he feels his knees go weak.

Quick as he can, he makes his way into the ‘sex room’ as he decided to call it in his head, and found the girl laying in the centre of the bed, legs draped open, playing with the cum leaking out of her pussy. Dean has to grab himself through his jeans, scared he’ll come on the spot if he doesn’t cut himself off.

“You gonna fuck me or what, big boy?” The girl leers at him, and Dean strips down like he’s being timed and slots himself between her thighs and pushes home in one go. He finishes embarrassingly quickly, with Sam’s cum sloshing around his dick and leaking into his mouth where the girl had painted it on like lip gloss. He devours every drop.

Dean catches Sam’s eye from across the bar and nods towards the girl he’s picked out as a target. It’s a college bar, so Sam does the approach, seeing as he's the one who looks like he could still fit in here. Dean drops himself in a chair and watches Sam work, proudly — he’s the one who taught the kind everything he knows after all. He watches as Sam charms her easily, gets her a drink, asks if she wants to come sit down and motions to the table Dean’s sitting at.

“Dean, this is Y/N,” Sam introduces her, smoothly pulling out a chair for her and pushing it back to the table — a true gentleman. “Y/N, this is my brother, Dean.”

“Hey there,” Y/N smiles at him easily, and Dean can tell they’ve picked someone up for a good time.

“Hey yourself, sweetheart,” Dean gives her a wink and leans in closer. “So, Sammy tell you how we’re hoping this night’s gonna go?”

“He did,” Y/N nods and shoots a smirk at Sam, who reciprocates, and Dean feels his guts churning. “Said the back seat of your car was real comfy too,” she grins mischievously.

“Sam even puts a blanket down most of the time, real class act,” Dean laughs, gulping down more of his drink.

“Wow,” Y/N is sarcastically amazed, “you fellas know how to treat a lady right,” she sounds bitter but Dean can tell she’s joking. She wouldn’t have followed Sam over here in the first place if she wasn’t.

“We try our best,” Sam grins at her charmingly, and Dean can see Y/N melt a little looking at his baby bro’s eyes — he can’t blame her.

Several drinks later, Y/N starts getting handsy with both of them, and Sam suggests they think about moving their little party of three outside. They show Y/N out to the car, Dean opens the back door with a flourish and she slides gracefully inside, glancing back out with a hungry look in her eyes. “So, who’s joining me?” she flutters her lashes seductively, like we need any convincing, Dean thinks to himself.

“Sammy,” Dean grunts, making a ‘come here’ motion with his hands and then holding one out flat and the other on top in a fist in preparation. Sam sidles over to Dean, gait smug, like he already knows he’s gonna win and get first crack at Y/N — which of course he is, because that’s how Dean likes it. He holds up his hands in a mirror of Dean’s, and eyes not leaving each others’ they both beat their fists against their palms. 1, 2, 3.

“Ooh,” Sam hisses in mock sympathy when they look down and see Sam’s ‘rock’ beats Dean’s ‘scissors’. “Always with the scissors, Dean,” Sam gives him a condescending pat on the shoulder, like he doesn’t know what Dean’s doing, and maybe he doesn’t, Dean thinks. Maybe Sam truly doesn’t realise how fucked up I am.

Dean turns to head back into the bar as Sam slides himself into the backseat next to Y/N, but he stops in his tracks when she calls out the window — “Sure you don’t wanna watch, handsome?” Dean freezes, the possibility of actually getting to see Sam fuck this girl, not just imagine it, is more intoxicating than the drinks he’s downed tonight. To actually see Sam, stripped and vulnerable, losing himself inside some cunt… Dean had never even considered that as a possibility before, but now that the thought is in his mind he needs it, craves it. He spins on his heel, looking back at Sam, inwardly praying that his little brother will be gracious enough to grant him this one thing.

“I don’t mind,” Sam smirks, eyes darting back to Y/N and raking down her body. “If she wants you to watch her get used like a little fucktoy, she can have that.” Dean is back by the car in a heartbeat. Sam pulls the back door shut as Y/N climbs on his lap and starts kissing him, while Dean checks around furtively and slides into the front.

Y/N moans start to fill the small space of the car’s interior as she grinds enthusiastically down onto Sam. Dean watches Sam run his hands down her back and up under the hem of her skirt. He wishes Sam would take her skirt off so he could see Sam’s hands on her ass, see his fingers tearing into the lace panties that Dean had gotten a glimpse of when she slid into the backseat earlier on. They pull apart and Y/N pushes Sam’s shirt up and over his head, messing up his hair, before she runs her fingers through it and holds on tight, earning a pleased groan from Sam. Dean catalogues that knowledge for later use – not that he thinks he’ll be in a position to test it out on Sam, but it will be a nice detail to add to his tragic imaginary Sam, the one that knows how sick he is and doesn’t care.

Sam’s hands sneak up the back of Y/N’s top and Dean watches as he removes her bra with practiced ease, and he nods to himself – respect. Sam must be feeling her up now because his arms have disappeared to her front and she’s letting out some pretty little whimpers and arching into his chest. Y/N pulls her top off, then reaches for Sam’s jeans, undoing the belt, button and zip quick as she can. Sam pushes her off him and she sprawls to the side, facing Dean now, and her eyes seek him out.

Her chest is heaving, her breasts shuddering with each rise and fall of her chest, and Dean spends a moment taking in her body, appreciating the curves, before he notices her hands have snuck beneath her skirt and she’s clearly touching herself while she watches him. Dean flushes, reaching down to adjust himself in his jeans. “Enjoying the show?” she winks at him, and Dean nods wordlessly.

“Get back over here, and let’s give him a real show,” Sam grabs Y/N and drags her back onto his lap, still facing Dean. She straddles him and rubs herself over his crotch. Sam snakes his arms around her waist and pulls up the front of her skirt, so Dean can see Sam’s cock thrusting between her thighs, against the glistening satin and lace panties she’s wearing. Dean feels his dick leap in his jeans, and he reaches down to adjust himself again before he decides to just give in and let down his zip, pushing his hand inside his boxers to fist himself out of the material. “Wanna see me fuck her?” Sam grunts, eyes flicking up to catch Dean staring at their grinding hips.

Dean feels his cock leak across his fingers at Sam’s words. “Fuck yes,” he groans, stroking himself harder. “Fucking give it to ‘er Sammy.”

“Want me to give it to you sweetheart?” Sam breathes against Y/N’s neck, tucking her hair tenderly behind her ear and nipping at her earlobe. She squeezes her eyes shut and whimpers, Sam’s way with words clearly affecting her. “Gonna be a good little slut and take my cock? Let me use you up and then hand you over to my brother to finish you off?”

“Fuck, Sam please, please, just use me,” she pulls her panties to the side and tries to get Sam to slip inside her but she can’t quite find the angle, and she whines, desperate and frustrated.

“Wow, for someone who just wants to be a set of holes you sure are needy,” Sam growls and gets his cock in the right place and pulls her down his shaft slowly. “Thought you told me inside you’d let me do whatever I want to you, and you wouldn’t put up a fuss?”

“Just fucking fuck me already, please Sam,” Y/N is begging, grinding down onto Sam’s cock like a whore.

Sam finally stops teasing her and follows through on his promise to use her. One of his hands comes up to wrap around her throat while he uses his other arm to keep her body pressed close against his, and he punches his hips into her hard, without abandon. Dean nearly chokes every time he catches a glimpse of Sam’s cock, bare and shiny with her slick, before he pushes back into her. It’s better than he could have imagined, watching Sam actually rail into a pussy instead of just hearing it through some flimsy drywall. It’s much easier to picture what Sam would look like fucking into him now that he’s seeing this.

“She feel good Sammy?” Dean is horrified to hear how strained his voice is when he speaks. He sounds like a goddamn girl with how fucking breathy he is.

“Uh huh,” Sam fucks into her quicker, like Dean’s question has spurred him on. “So wet, can feel her soaking into my thighs,” he moans. Dean refuses to let out the whimper that’s trying to escape his throat. “Gonna be even wetter for you,” Sam continues, leering up at Dean through his lashes, chin looped over Y/N’s shoulder. “She’s gonna be all messy when I’m done with her. But you like ‘em like that dontcha? Like ‘em strung out and used up?”

“Fuck,” Dean does almost whimper.

“Oh god,” Y/N whines, dropping her hips down in earnest against every one of Sam’s thrusts, and she snakes a hand down her front to start rubbing over her clit.

“Oh you wanna cum, do you? Think you earned that yet?” Sam bites against Y/N’s neck and bats her hand away from her core. “I think you’re gonna have to do a bit more before you get to cum. Gotta let me cum in you first, huh? Then you’re gonna be a good little cocksleeve for my big brother to get off in, and then, maybe, if you’ve been a good girl, we’ll make you cum.”

“Fucking hell,” she moans heavily, dropping her head back onto Sam’s shoulder. “C’mon then fuck me, want your cum inside me, please,” she whines, voice piercing in the small space.

“Yeah, that’s what Dean wants too,” Sam smirks, but he’s not looking at Dean now, he’s got his eyes closed tight and his head buried against Y/N’s shoulder. Dean thanks fuck for that, because when he heard Sam say that he knows Dean wants him to cum inside Y/N, Dean thought he was going to die of embarrasment. Obviously he wanted that, and in the back of his mind he knew Sam must know that he likes fucking the girls second, but they’d never talked about it. What did Sam think about the fact that Dean got off on fucking his little brother’s cum back into whatever warm body they’d picked out that day? He must be okay with it because they keep doing it.

Dean’s existential crisis is cut short when he hears the tell tale gasp and cut off whine that means Sam is cumming, and he looks up just in time to catch the pure fucking bliss on his little brother’s face. His eyes flick down to where Sam and Y/N are joined and he watches, mesmerised, as Sam pulls out, his cock laced with the white of his release.

“Open your mouth, bitch,” Sam grunts, and shoves Y/N off his lap and onto her hands and knees so she can suck the cum back off his cock. Dean’s breath catches in his throat, desperately hoping she doesn’t swallow.

When she pulls off of Sam with a wet sound her mouth stays open and Dean can see the cum slipping from her lips. He reaches over the seat impulsively and grabs her hair, yanking her towards him and slamming their mouths together. Dean sucks her tongue into his mouth like he wants to bite it off, and he can’t keep in the moan that bubbles up from his chest when he tastes the bitter edge of Sam’s spunk on his tongue.

“C’mere,” Dean grunts against Y/N’s lips, dragging her over the top of the seat. It’s not graceful, it’s not attractive or sexy, it’s born of the intense desperation Dean has to feel something hot and wet around his dick, and when he pushes into Y/N’s cunt he knows he’s not going to win any records for stamina tonight. She’s tight, but it’s an easy fuck because she’s so so wet. Dean can feel Sam’s cum squeezing out of her every time he fucks in, pushing the creamy liquid out around his dick and grinding it into his jeans. They’re going to be ruined but he doesn’t give a fuck because this feeling is always worth it.

Y/N’s head is buried in the crook of his neck and Dean’s forehead is smashed into her shoulder as they cling to each other. Dean jumps when he feels hands on his shoulders, because the fingers are facing the wrong way for them to be hers – they’re Sam’s. He leans across Dean to kiss Y/N roughly, then yanks her head back by her hair, holding her out in front of Dean so they can watch her tits bounce while Dean fucks into her mercilessly.

“What d’ya think Dean, do we let her cum?” Y/N whines at the words and Dean can hear Sam smirking. “You’re gonna cum anyways aren’t you, you fucking slut. Gonna squeeze his cock real good for me? That’ll make you a real fuckin’ whore won’t it, going home with two guys’ loads in that pussy, huh?”

Sam’s taunts are cruel and mocking and fucking hot and Dean has never had to listen to Sam’s dirty talk while he was actually fucking something and he can’t handle it. He stills inside Y/N, gasping as he pumps his release inside her, mixes it up with Sam’s. Y/N is shaking around him and Dean thinks she must have cum too but honestly he’s so far gone he can’t even tell.

When Y/N climbs back over the seat to find her clothes, Dean stays put, still trying to catch his breath. He hears Sam open the door and walk her out, back to the bar. He shakes himself from his reverie and rushes to tuck himself back into his boxers. His jeans feel sticky, and they probably are ruined but he still doesn’t care. It was absolutely worth it.

We’re All Mads Here: @vulgar-library @tintentrinkerin @negans-lucille-tblr @fandomfic-galore @petitgateau911 @schaefchenherde @kickingitwithkirk @little-diable @laxe-chester67 @kassyscarlett @austin-winchester67

All SPN: @cemini-winchester @akshi8278 @stoneyggirl @deandreamernp @lyarr24 @lovealways-j

#bees7ksoftheweekchallenge #spnkinkbingo #sam x reader #dean x reader #sam x dean #sam winchester smut #dean winchester smut #wincest

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sidespart · 3 years

Text

The Fall of Romulus Part 5

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him...

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

Feedback appreciated.

NOW ON AO3 :D

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

The first time Virgil had seen Patton, it had been on the battlefield. The larger man was on his knees, three men wearing the same uniform as Virgil strewn around him, fresh blood gushing from deep gouges on his face. He’d looked up at Virgil like he expected to die, his eyes bright with relief.

The first time Virgil had seen Logan, he’d barely been more than a kid. Even skinnier than he was now, drenched to the bone in his threadbare apprentice robes and shaking with rage. He’d thrust a handful of coins across the table at Virgil and Patton, newly minted heroes for hire, and demanded they kill his master.

The first time Virgil had seen Roman, he’d been singing to a horse.

It wasn’t even his horse.

Virgil had wanted a break from the noise of the tavern and the simmering tension between his companions. But standing in the dark in an unfamiliar town had been unappealing and so he’d ducked into the taverns small stables. The hayloft was more of a glorified shelf, set close to the ceiling, but standing amongst the horses meant potentially having to explain himself to the horses’ owners and so he’d clambered up and shimmied his way into the narrow space, ducking down out of sight.

He just wanted a few minutes peace. Long enough to figure out what to do.

Logan had accepted a job. Without consulting either Patton or Virgil. It was a simple enough assignment -to transport a crate full of merchandise to a town on the other side of the mountain pass. So why could the townsfolk not deal with that themselves? Because the pass was full of bandits. Obviously.

Logan said they needed the money and he wasn’t wrong. Patton said they needed a break and he wasn’t wrong either.

They had been travelling from one skinflint town to the next for what felt like an age…but half the reason travel was taking so long was that right now they didn’t have enough coin to even to rent horses. Which meant Patton was going to end up dragging the gods-forsaken chest the entire way. Which was going to aggravate the hip injury- which he still refused to acknowledge existed - and leave all of them vulnerable to attack, since Logan wasn’t winning any fights unless it was a debate and Virgil…Virgil did better with the element of surprise.

Looming out of the darkness, his eyes glowing purple and his crossbow held aloft – Virgil had watched many an enemy turn tail and run at the sight of him with great satisfaction.

Actually aiming that crossbow, in broad daylight, at attacking bandits and successfully hitting one? That seemed less likely to be satisfying for anyone. Except maybe the bandits.

So now there was a stalemate, both Patton and Logan bristling at each other over their meal. Both waiting for Virgil to be the tiebreaker.

Hence the hiding in a hayloft.

Maybe if Logan had just talked to the them instead of making decisions for everyone-

“Who’s the prettiest girl in this stable? Is it you? I think it is!”

Virgil froze.

“My lady fair is pale as night and strong as all the stars that bright th- hey!” holding his breath, Virgil slowly turned his head until he could see the man below, who was currently trying to tug his sleeve out of the mouth of a blond mare. It was the bard from the tavern. Even without hearing his voice, the bright white outfit and ridiculously flouncy red jacket gave him away.

Virgil frowned. It was still relatively early in the evening and the bard had had a good audience – even Patton and Logan had looked away form their argument to appreciate his tune. Why leave now?

“Okay, okay you don’t like the classics.” The bard was back to petting the mare’s nose, “but you’re still stunning despite your terrible taste. And a beautiful horse deserves the most handsome of riders hmm?”

Virgil rolled his eyes and relaxed back against the hay. The movements of over the top performers were none of his business.

“That you singing back there?”

Virgil tensed again.

Two men were blocking the exit. Both big, broad and wearing matching insincere grins.

The one who’d spoken had a knife in his hand. The bard apparently didn’t notice and stepped away from the horse with his arms spread wide.

Under the dim shaft of moonlight spilling from the stable door, the silky material of the bards jacket seemed to shine. It highlighted his pockets, where the thin material was sagging under the weight of his bulging coin pouch

“Always a pleasure to meet my fans!”

He gave them a cheeky bow, his pockets jingling as he moved.

Virgil resisted the urge to bang his head against the ceiling.

If this idiot wanted to get himself stabbed was it really Virgil’s responsibility to intervene? What would Logan call this – natural selection?

“Must’ve made a pretty penny.” It was the second man who spoke, he leaned carefully against the stable door as knife-guy stepped forward. “Nice voice like that.”

He looked pointedly at the bard’s jacket pocket. The bard took a half step back, almost disappearing from Virgil’s view.

“Your town is very generous.”

“Yeah. Good people” The second guy smiled. “Drop it.”

Virgil heard the bard sigh, deep and theatrical. But, much to Virgil’s relief, he threw the bag down on to the ground between them. Murder, Virgil was probably morally obligated to try to stop. But if the two robbers just took the bag and ran? Well. Patton was constantly asking Vigil and Logan to keep out of trouble so he could hardly disapprove.

Knife-guy grinned dumbly and reached down to his prize. Virgil tensed himself, he wasn’t going to be able to leap gracefully into action form his confined hiding place but he could potentially…roll onto the guy if he tried anything.

He didn’t get the chance.

As soon as the wannabe thief bent down the bard was on him. A blur of white and red shot out from beneath the hayloft, slammed the butt of a sword – had he always had a sword? – down on knife-guys skull sending him sprawling to the ground.

The second man let out a shout but before he had chance to take more than a step forward the bard was there, sword swinging though the air before coming to rest less than an inch from the man’s throat.

There was a pause whilst the man just gaped at the bard. Breathing heavily.

“You have a choice. Leave now, with your head still attached or…”

There was a yell and Virgil cursed himself for being distracted as knife-guy barrelled towards the pair, weapon raised high –

Only for it to instantly be knocked out his hand by the bard’s sword. The big man let out a high pitched yelp as blood spurted from where his fingers had been moments before, the knife clattering to the ground. The second man aimed a swing at the bards head but he dodged low, springing back up to deliver a punch of his own to the man’s throat, which left him gasping for breath.

At this point, knife guy clearly decided he’d had enough, running for the door with his bleeding hand clutched close to his chest. The second thief, seeing his backup flee, shot the bard a venomous glare and hurried after.

And then there was quiet.

“Sorry about that.” Virgil startled – was he talking to him? “My precious babies.” No. The bard was heading back towards the horses, who had been remarkably unconcerned throughout his ordeal. This gave Virgil his first proper look at his face.

He looked young. Not much older than Logan. And tired.

“Did those mean old robbers scare you?” he cooed “Not to worry – your hero is here to save the day!”

With the bard facing the horses, Virgil took the opportunity to squirm out of his hiding place, managing to land lightly enough on the stable floor behind him.

“Hey.” He said.

The hero’s shriek of surprise was so loud that the horses reared up in their stalls.

After hasty explanations, Virgil had hired him as extra muscle for their trip. It’s wasn’t t an ideal solution, but the knowledge that there would be extra protection around for Logan and Virgil eased some of Patton’s tension. And since Sir Sing-A-Lot had pissed off two would be thieves who were presumably still in town somewhere, he was willing to leave quickly and for cheap which suited Logan.

He met them the next day about a quarter mile out of town, performance outfit replaced with something moderately more travel worthy and sword strapped to his side. Virgil had suggested he stay the night at the tavern but he had shaken his head. Said if he went back in there the bartender would insist he stay to play another night – and then he’d have to let him down, which would be far too painful to bare.

Virgil privately thought skipping out halfway through the night was probably letting him down worse, but whatever. One mans loss is another man’s gain.

It was only when he’s was making the introductions that he realised Roman hadn’t brought his horse. Which led quickly to the realisation that there were three would be thieves in the stable that night.

Virgil spent most of the first day with his eyes fixed on Roman, waiting for him to betray them and skip off with the loot himself. But as the hours past and the bard did nothing suspicious he slowly started to relax.

It was only going to be three days.

***

Three years later, Virgil was growling to himself in his mother’s language as he swept his eyes across the room again, finding absolutely nothing. Not that he expected to -the small room wasn’t exactly flush with hiding places. All he had managed to unearth in the first frantic search was one of Roman’s notebooks, tossed under the bed with its leafy bookmark a few inches away. Patton had carefully put both away in his own coat pocket, a look of abject misery on his face as his hands ghosted over Romans drawings.

The thing was. It wasn’t like adding Roman to the group had instantly fixed everything.

But-

But Patton got sad sometimes. And Virgil, he’d been through a lot of the same stuff as the big guy but he didn’t know how to reach him when he got like that. Virgil was pretty sure he actually made things worse. But Roman – Roman distracted Patton without even trying half the time. He’d sing, weave a story out of nothing, disappear down a side street and reappear with a gaggle of kids and two puppies he seemingly conjured out of nowhere. The two of them had the same bright energy and when they got together they laughed loud enough to banish any shadow.

And Logan – Logan had this need to prove himself. All the time. He needed a challenge to throw himself against or he wilted. Patton hated arguing and Virgil frankly didn’t have the energy but Roman? Roman loved it. The two debated everything, from poetry to politics and threw themselves into preparation with more gusto than seemed healthy. The first big blow up they had, Virgil had looked over at Patton, panicked, before realising both men were grinning ear to ear. Relishing the debate in a way that Virgil didn’t really understand.

And as for Virgil himself…well actually he had always been perfectly fine and Roman basically drove him crazy.

But that wasn’t the point.

The point was, the four of them worked better as a four. They balanced each other out. Even if they sometimes went too far and hurt each others feelings, they always apologised and moved on. And even if having four meant that their could never be a tiebreaker and every decision had to be discussed around and around until someone gave in…that was just what family was like.

And now Roman was just going to walk away from them? Without even saying goodbye?

Unacceptable.

“This is all my fault.” Patton wailed for third time. “I never should have left him alone.”

And on top of everything he’d upset Patton? Virgil was going to find their wayward bard and bring him home. And then kill him.

“Tell us what he said again.” Logan demanded imperiously, notebook and pen at the ready as he stared Patton down.

Virgil sighed and answered for him:

“He told him he wanted to leave the city. And now he’s left the city.”

Logan frowned. “The city gates are closed at sunset – unless he had a royal decree he would have been unable to leave last night.”

Virgil grit his teeth, “Okay, so, assuming he didn’t know that – because none of the rest of us knew that – he left the inn to try to leave the city.”

“So then why leave the inn at all?” Logan continued, pacing up and down the limited floor space and utterly ignoring Virgil “Why not just wait till morning? It makes no sense unless.” He paused at the window. “Unless he was taken against his will.”

Patton and Virgil exchange wide eyed looks. Virgil was normally the one jumping to worst case scenarios, not Logan. “You, uhh, you got any evidence for that one Lo?”

“He left his sword.” Logan pointed. “Amongst almost all his other possessions – he told Patton he wasn’t safe and then he leaves without taking a weapon? It’s illogical.”

“I’m not sure he was thinking logically.” Patton said softly, looking at Romans neatly piled possessions. “You didn’t hear him guys he – he sounded so scared.”

Virgil flinched. Fingers flexing uselessly. “Okay. Okay so. What spooked him? Something in the forest?” He asked, thinking guilty of Romans thorn scratched hands after he’d got himself lost trying to escape Virgil foul mood. “He was totally spaced out last night.”

“He seemed fine this morning.” Patton said with a frown “Logan?”

“He was fine before we saw The Crone.” Logan murmured, “he was, if anything, too effervescent. But when we left he seemed…” he trailed off, adjusting his glasses before glaring defensively at both of them “he didn’t say anything so I can’t be sure – but, he was very quiet. The Crone was northern so I thought perhaps homesickness? But I don’t believe he was scared. Not until the episode.”

Virgil nodded, Logan had already described the episode – Romans sudden sprint through the city street and subsequent panic attack – in detail, although he’d been unable to pin point what had set him off.

“Um I’m sorry …The Crone?” Patton looked horrified, “Logan, do you mean our customer?”

“I. Uhm.” Despite everything Virgil couldn’t help but grin the flush of embarrassment that quickly took over Logan’s face. “She was from the North” Logan told them with great dignity, “Roman has told us many time that it is considered rude to ask a strangers name on first meeting.”

“But, did you…know she was form the North? Before you started calling her crone?” Virgil couldn’t resist teasing.

“Logan that is so rude!” Patton said, giving his best disappointed dad eyes.

“SO rude.” Roman ginned “honestly Patton – Virgil - this kind of behaviour reflects poorly on you as parents. I personally think you should send him to bed without supper.”

And Patton laughed, a secretly pleased smile at being compared to a parent and Virgil rolled his eyes and shrugged Romans hand off his shoulder and Logan let out an offended humph before reminding Roman, again, that he was only a few years older than him and if he was a child Roman was too and a brat besides – an old and well-worn argument that made all of them laugh, tension broken.

Except it wasn’t. Because Roman wasn’t there.

Instead Patton’s exaggerated disappointment mellowed into real sadness as he glanced around the room again and Logan hunched his shoulders, burying his face in his notebook. Silence filled the room.

“I’m going to uh, look outside again.” Virgil jerked his thumb awkwardly to the door and set off without waiting for a response.

Definitely kill him, Virgil thought. Once they were sure he was okay.

Apart from his unusual eye colour, pointed ears and a youthful complexion well into his thirties, Virgil had inherited very little from his mothers people. But his night vision was undeniably better than his fully human companions.

Not that it was doing him much good right now. Didn’t matter how good your eye sight was if there was nothing to see.

It was easy enough to track Roman from the open window, down the wall of torn climbing plants to the ground, but after that the trail immediately went cold. If this was a small town with a dirt road there would at least be footprints, but on the cobblestone streets of the well-to-do there was nothing to follow.

He could be anywhere.

Virgil kicked a pebble with a snarl, sending it clattering across the square. Reluctantly he started to prepare himself for the long climb back up to their room, when he was distracted by a faint whinnying.

The tavern connected to stables.

Huh.

Well….he knew Roman had been prepared to steal a horse before…

Quietly, Virgil slipped around the corner and into the stables. This was a far cry from the glorified shack where he had first met Roman. The ‘stables’ was more of a courtyard, with various coaches and waggons parked in the centre, and an enormous number of stalls ringing the outside. Virgil guessed it was shared between the tavern and the several other buildings that bordered the square.

His heart began to race.

He hadn’t really expected to see much – how would he know, after all, if a horse was missing? But with this much money in one place, there had to be a guard. Someone who might have seen Roman pass through.

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his expectations low, and began to search.

“Virgil. Did you kidnap a child?!”

Virgil winced. The force of Patton’s disappointed dad glare was a lot less funny when it was directed at him. “I mean,” he tried “is it kidnapping? She lives here! It’s not that bad!”

“I would say it’s significantly worse that calling a woman a crone in the privacy of your own head.” Logan muttered under his breath. Virgil glared at him.

“And I don’t live here,” the girl offered brightly “I just work in the stables.”

They were in the inn’s kitchen. Somewhere that they were absolutely not allowed to be. But between cancelling the promised performance, negotiating a week’s stay in an already overbooked establishment and then almost immediately afterwards cancelling that too and the panicked interrogation of the few remaining customers when they’d first discovered Roman missing; Virgil didn’t think the inn’s landlord could really get more irritated with them.

Although the whole kidnapping thing was probably not going to help.

“Here you go sweetheart.” Patton said, pushing a mug of sweet tea towards the girl and taking a seat next to her. He did not offer Virgil or Logan a cup.

“Thanks Mister Pat!” She smiled sweetly up at Patton before turning away from him and sticking her tongue out at Virgil. Virgil gestured wildly between the girl and himself but Patton just sipped his own drink, nose in the air.

Virgil slumped in his chair, glowering.

He’d found her sleeping in one of the empty stable stalls. The space was clearly being used as a hut for the stable boy – or in this case girl – with a small wooden bed pushed against the back wall and a desk covered in half cleaned riding gear near the entrance.

Elated to have found a possible lead he had rushed towards the bed and shaken the occupant awake immediately. And released in one horrifying instant that he was a fully grown man shaking a literal child who probably couldn’t even see him in the darkness.

She yelled.

He yelled.

She threw a horseshoe at his head.

He had managed to bundle her half way back to the inn - one hand clamped over her mouth despite the fact that she was biting him - before Patton appeared, ripping them apart with a growl and then blinking a Virgil in complete confusion when he realised who the would be kidnapper was.

“I – we – just want to ask you some questions.” Virgil said in his calmest I-am-not-deranged-I-have-just-had-a-very-long-day voice “Okay, um, sweetheart?”

All three of them stared at him.

“’Sweetheart’ sounds odd when you say it.”

“I know it does Lo’.”

“It might be the tone of voice.”

“I know it is, Lo’.”

“I’m Lucy.” Said the girl. Lucy sat back in her chair, swinging her legs back and forth. “Are you gonna’ pay me? The last guy gave me five gold pieces.” she grinned at them expectantly.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Okay well, that’s ridiculous.”

“We don’t have much money.” Patton told her, “but I can make you another tea?” She considered him for a minute but was clearly already besotted with her ‘rescuer’, so she just smiled and held out her mug.

“Now,” Patton asked gently as he poured a refill. “What guy is this? And…what did he ask you to do for that kind of money?”

She shrugged, unconcerned. “Just some rich guy. He wanted to know how many people had come in today, and then for me to let him hang around in my hut until his friend got there.”

“So you left your post?” Logan said disapprovingly. “What time did he arrive? What did he do? What friend was he meeting?”

“He paid me five gold pieces so he could sit in a shed” she told him. “If the guy wanted a horse he could have just bought one. And I just went and sat on the roof anyway, the market was way too busy.”

“Smart.” Virgil said. She glared at him, just long enough to let him know that his approval meant nothing, before continuing.

“He came just after four o’clock, that’s when Tommy goes home and I take over. And he didn’t do anything. Just sat there all grouchy. Then he left with the pretty guy.”

“Pretty?” Logan asked sharply, making Lucy giggle.

“Yeaaaah he had pretty eyes and a lute and really cute short hair. He was way better looking than the rich guy. I think he was a musician.” She sighed.

The three men glanced at each other, excitement building.

“Was he being taken by force?” Logan asked, steepling his hands “Could you see any sign of a struggle? Was he restrained in some way?”

“Logan don’t scare the kid for fucks sake.”

“Oh sorry, the one you kidnapped?”

“Guys.” Patton’s glare quelled them both into silence. Lucy took a long sip of tea, thinking before answering.

“He just walked up to him and they left together right away. I couldn’t hear nothin' but, they didn’t have time to say more than hello before they left.”

“So much for that theory.” Virgil muttered, disappointment settling in his chest. Not that he wanted Logan to be right, that Roman had been taken away by force but- this meant he really had just decided to leave them.

Logan wasn’t convinced. “A physical struggle is not necessarily required to move someone against their will – he could have been coerced.”

“How coercive can you be in one sentence??”

“If he was lying in wait and recognised him instantly the obviously we can assume they knew each other.” Logan told him snottily “Groundwork could have been laid beforehand.”

Virgil frowned, he hadn’t thought of that. But Roman hadn’t arrived until well past four – how had the mystery man known to come to this particular inn?

“Can you tell us anything about the first man?” Patton asked Lucy, “What he looked like or – ooh how about you draw a picture of him!” he produced Romans notebook from his pocket and opened it too a blank page.

“He was just some old rich guy,” she insisted “he was wearing one of those fancy patchwork coats. Pink and blue, and he had dark hair…” she shrugged. ”I don’t remember anything else, sorry Mister Pat.”

“What about an emblem?” Logan asked.

“What’s that?”

“A symbol of his house. Lots of rich people have them, maybe on a bit of jewellery or embroidered on his clothing?”

“He had a cape clasp with a pattern on it.” She said doubtfully, “it wasn’t fancy though just- here – “ she took the note book from Patton and hastily scribbled three interlocking Vs, the largest in the centre.

“We can go to the library and look for it when they open.” Logan told them brightly “If it’s one of the noble houses in the city we should be able to find an address.”

“And we can go see the cro – the customer too” Patton added putting a hand on the scholars shoulder, “Logan says Roman seemed down after they left- she might know something.”

“Right.” Virgil nodded absently.

“One of us should go to the city gates before they open,” Logan continued, “If he still intends to leave the city we can watch for him there.”

Virgil thought of the hordes of people making their way through the city gates. Spotting one man in amongst that throng was going to be near impossible. And even if they found a symbol that matched the child’s drawing, there was no guarantee they would be able to track down the owner. And from Logan's description, Roman hadn’t left his sight whilst they were at The Crones house, what could she possibly tell them that they didn’t already know?

And even if they found him. What good was that, if he truly wanted to leave? It’s not like they could order him to stay.

He felt one large, warm hand land on his shoulder and squeeze gently. “We’ll find him.” Patton told him reassuringly. At the table, Logan was scribbling in his note book again, eyes bright with excitement as he continued the barrage of questions at an amused looking Lucy.

Virgil nodded, and did his best to smile back.

It had been a long week on top of a long month of traveling, and none of their leads were things they could follow right now. They needed to sleep. Get enough rest for a full day of bard hunting in the morning.

And then, well.

If Roman wanted to leave he could leave.

But he was going to damm well explain himself to his family first.

Virgil glanced at Lucy who was watching them with open curiosity.

“I don’t suppose we could convince you not to mention the whole…kidnapping thing to the land lord right?”

She smiled at him. “That’s gonna cost you more than tea.”

Vigil sighed.

chapter 6

#TS: Fall of Romulus #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #sanders sides fic #sanders sides #what is writing virgils POV?#is it just a thounsad rehtorical questions?#maybe?#sidespart writes

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wh6res · 3 years

Text

“𝑰’𝑴 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑳𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻, 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑶𝑵𝑳𝒀 𝑺𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑶𝑼𝑹.”

part of the 21 ways to kill your lover collab hosted by the lovely miss solange @du0tine

pairing. entity! xdj & f! reader | word count. 5.4k

synopsis. he wasn’t a god, he wasn’t a devil, and fuck, he’s surely not an angel, but he will be your saviour and your light ‘till kingdome come.

warnings. tread with caution. yandere/possesive themes, religious themes, violence, mentions of gore, swearing, mentions of ptsd, mentions of physical abuse, a lot of character deaths, manipulation, stalking, and implications of suicide

disclaimer. i do not condone whatever tf i wrote in this nor does it reflect my beliefs or values or morals and such. it is all pure fiction and i also dont think xiaojun from wayv would act like this in real life.

a soul’s vulnerability gives him strength. he has scourged far and wide and has yet to encounter a soul as interesting as yours. he never thought a heart filled with hatred and a fragile mentality can be such a sweet combination. xiaojun would be stupid not to latch his greedy talons onto you.

he hides in the darkest corners of your room at night, unseen and unheard, just watching over you like a predator to his poor unsuspecting gazelle before diving into the anticipated chase.

he moves in with you into the cheap apartment you got for yourself here in the big city—which he thinks is an awful move because of how lonely it’ll be. but hey, it wasn’t anyone’s fault that you got chased out of your own home by your stepdad, your very own biological mom too scared to say a peep of defense to your name.

your downfalls became xiaojun’s highlights.

he would’ve felt sorry for you after finding out about that abusive old man. ugh, he scowls. your stepdad makes the entity’s blood boil and he doesn’t even have blood to begin with. the same man who holds the bible in his left hand when he preaches sermons for the people, is the same hand he uses to hit you across the face.

the same hand he uses to pull at your hair. the same hand he uses to punch your gut. the same hand he uses to shove your mom down when she tries interfering.

xiaojun may hate men of god but above all, he absolutely detests the kind your old man is—a faker, who thinks he can get away with the shit mess he’s making. xiaojun would never take that preacher’s murky soul even if he offered it to the entity voluntarily. fake. fake. fake. fake. fake. xiaojun should’ve killed him. xiaojun should’ve slit his throat. xiaojun should’ve torn his eyes out—

ah, ah, ah.

he can’t afford to make you any less vulnerable than you already are, now, can he? after all, he can be anything you want but he’s no angel.

so he watched from the sidelines.

watched you cry. watched you bleed. watched your scars form. watched the hate and resentment you have for your own family fester in your heart until it grew to a size you can’t hide within yourself anymore.

and then you left home.

xiaojun has to admit, for a second, maybe leaving home will make your soul unworthy, will break the mold he’s already had of you and will completely spoil his well-thought out plans.

so really, he can only scoff when he watches you walk around the apartment wearing that pretty dress on a sunday morning, darting around with calculated steps to shove everything inside your bag to go to church. the dress hangs nicely against your skin but he’d rather you stay and wear nothing.

maybe you’d finally find contentment and happiness in this place, in this city, on your own. soaring high without a cage, without someone to hold you back—these things fill his thoughts like a plague until you come barging back into the door 30 minutes later.

he’s been watching you long enough to know church service wouldn’t end for another 30 minutes or so. xiaojun’s eyebrows quirk up. why would his fragile little gazelle come back oh so early? but his question is immediately answered when he detects your shaky breaths and the unshed tears in your glistening eyes

you’re suffering the post-traumatic effects your shit stepdad has caused. seeing another preacher must’ve been a trigger, he thinks, eyeing you with a look on his face. xiaojun felt a little stupid. of course, swimming to the surface will be tough with all that trauma anchoring you down.

it’ll be tough, indeed… so why not sink you even deeper?

it didn’t take much energy for him to start manipulating your dreams. every nap, every deep sleep, he’d replay all the horrible things your stepdad has done to you and he realizes how dreams depicted from his perspective took a larger toll on you versus the ones from your own point of view—witnessing for yourself how weak and helpless you had been seemed to chip away bigger parts of you, he notices. your terrified screams when waking up in cold sweat getting louder and louder with every passing nightmare.

he pushed, and pushed, and pushed until you were standing right at the edge of sanity. until you start questioning your own self-worth and judgment, the invisible chains of the trauma too strong to break. until your radiant skin looked deathly, with gaunt cheeks and white lips. until you developed a fear of sleeping because no, you don’t want to witness those horrors again. no. no. no. no, please don’t hit me—

xiaojun can’t help but admire his handiwork but no, he doesn’t have time for that!

the next time you fell asleep you had been desperately holding onto your 5th bottle of gatorade like it was a torch breaking through the darkness. you’ve intake so much of the energy drink that your body has grown used to it. you would’ve switched to caffeine, but from how much you drank it prior to the energy drinks, your blood is practically coffee at this point.

“you’re living in my house now, young lady! i’d like to see some respect from your or i’ll fucking beat it into you!”

“stop! please. hit me instead, hit me!”

“this is all your fault, bitch! how can you raise one daughter wrong? no wonder your husband left you!”

murky and black, you can’t even see the bottom at this point. it keeps pulling you down, and down, and down, until you couldn’t breathe. until your head feels light. until your heart beats erratically within your ribcage as you fought to the surface.

with all the negative emotions surging through you in thunderous waves, it’s a wonder how no other lonesome, starving entity has latched onto you like xiaojun. although realistically, he was here first, as if he’ll let any other being like him go near you.

it took a greater amount of energy to twist and manipulate the plotline of certain events in a dream. if xiaojun hadn’t grown strong from all your negativity, he’d never be able to do it.

he can never forget the day he first appeared to you in a dream. to have you cling onto him as you willingly took his hand—not that he was caught by surprise, anyway. every second of every hour of every day xiaojun spent plotting your demise has led to this fruitful day of “meeting” you for the first time.

“i’m right here,” he said, shaking fingers tracing over your cheeks. a soft caress you have never experienced.

the man in your dreams is someone you’ve never met before—you’re positive that you haven’t because you’d never forget a face as handsome as his. he appears like an angel casted over divine light, with a soft smile that can cure the plague as he offers his hands for you to take. it was beautiful, how your nightmares turned into dreams the moment the mysterious man arrived.

how’d you ever know, that the hand you grabbed is the wolf in sheep’s clothing?

it’s sad really, how you’ve only managed to escape one horror only to jump into the next but xiaojun can’t find it in himself to feel bad. well, maybe a little, it’s a fleeting thought. something that disappeared as quickly as it had passed by.

it was only after a few weeks of constantly appearing in your dreams did his plan start to backfire. the change in your behavior isn’t subtle, either, and it angered him all the more. he didn’t see this coming, not even from lightyears away.

simple to say you’ve grown a little more… how can xiaojun put this into words? well, a little more outgoing. adventurous. meeting new people and going to new places and experiencing new things. he can see everything as clear as day—you were healing from your past, leaving the dark chapters in your life to write newer and brighter ones that revolved on having actual healthy relationships for once.

his seething anger of his failed plans had made all the windows in your apartment burst into thousand little pieces. if you had fine china dishes displayed on your kitchen cabinets he would’ve broken those too. how can you go against him like this? look at you all happy and smiley even as the room turned ice cold because of xiaojun’s suffocating presence. you never even thought once about it—how naive.

tormenting you through dreams isn’t working anymore. xiaojun has to up his game if he wants to break you down and revert you back to that paranoid, sensitive, and frail self that couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, and couldn’t talk to any other human being without feeling the ghost of your abusive step-father’s hands against your skin.

who says he can only control you through mind games alone? after he’s done what needs to be done, grief and self-pity will go hand in hand. a combination so cruel and heavy on your shoulders that xiaojun can already savor the metallic tangy taste of victory.

“no! yeji—!”

xiaojun watches unblinking when he makes one of your new friends walk out the sidewalk and right into an overspeeding car.

tires skidding across the pavement, the breaks not working, glass shattering, bones cracking against the force of the hit—dead, right on the fucking spot.

he’s never heard you scream that loud and he shudders in pleasure as the vibrations of your shrill voice courses through his veins.

he missed this, your complete and utter misery.

but he wasn’t done yet.

“don’t you think it’s a ‘lil chilly in here?” ryujin asks, looking over to your side before drinking the hot chocolate she prepared for both of you.

grieving together with a friend can be good, hence why you’re now in her apartment a month later after yeji’s funeral.

you answer after taking a sip. “no, not really.”

xiaojun grins, giddy and a skip in his step while making his way towards you as he side-eyes your friend, who religiously drank her hot chocolate all the while bundling up next to you so you both can watch the movie together playing on the laptop.

this one, well, he particularly doesn’t like this one.

if your other friend was meant to be a casualty, a death borne from not one smidge of personal vendetta, this one, this ryujin is different. heck, he even remembers her fucking name.

no, no, no. xiaojun can feel his skin crawl as ryujin cuddles intimately closer as she stares at you from her peripheral, feeling out whether you’d react or not as she sneaks an arm around your waist. his anger turns a fever pitch, seeing you with someone else driving him up the wall. you were meant to be his sad and hopeless little gazelle and his alone.

xiaojun hoped the poison travels fast or so help him he’ll fucking rip her off of you—and he would’ve, when he saw you and ryujin slowly leaning into one another, head angled and obviously going in for a kiss. he would’ve, when one of ryujin’s hands come up to cup your face. he would’ve… until the poison reached its destination in her body, right when your lips were about to touch.

ryujin’s lungs seized, breathing becoming an agent to her demise as the oxygen from her lungs disappear into nothingness. the last thing she saw is your horrified face, tears streaming. she swore you were shouting something, probably her name, but it’s overpowered by the incessant ring in her ears.

when her mouth foamed and she laid limp on the couch right next to you, you knew ryujin would never wake again to give you that kiss.

xiaojun steps back to admire the havoc he wreaked. two of your friends dead, that should be enough to incapacitate you—whether it be permanent or not, he just wants to see you drown in misery.

and as he slowly dissipates into the void, there’s a little smile on his face as he stares you down, burning the image of your histeria in his head, the echoes of your woeful cries music to his ears.

you never dared step foot out of your apartment.

groceries were delivered to your door, trash is slowly but surely building up, and the place was a whole mess. the entity haunting you has never seen you this… shattered, even when you left home. it was like your brain has stopped working and your body turned into nothing more but a cusp of who you used to be.

it’s scary looking in the mirror and not recognizing the reflection—so, you painted all of them black. it was an in the heat of a moment kind of thing that took place the moment you came home from the police station, on the exact day she passed away before your eyes.

xiaojun just has to “misplace” a few pints of paint you had used from when you renovated the apartment in the past, putting the cans where you can easily see them and think that the idea belonged to you when in reality, it’s the entity that put the idea in your head.

there was a blanket over your shoulder when you came back from the station. it wasn’t yours, they gave it to you while you sat opposite to a stoic detective in a cold interrogation room, yet you made no move to shrug it off even after arriving at your apartment, fingers clutching the fabric like a lifeline and refusing to believe whatever that had transpired in ryujin’s apartment.

eyes unseeing, stumbling with your steps, back hunched with the curse of the universe weighing down on your back—xiaojun couldn’t’ve been more proud of what he had done.

you were spiraling out of control. a self-destructive cycle you cannot seem to fight your way out of as your nightmares came back to haunt you. the tall waves of anxiety and paranoia drowning and pushing you under the surface.

for once you don’t fight the current, you just let it pull you under.

every time you close your eyes, you can hear the deafening screech of rubber tires against concrete before the car hits yeji. can vividly see the foams of the poison coming out of ryujin’s mouth as if it was caught on tape and is now playing on loop.

your other friends have donned you as bad luck, cursed to have a fucked up life and will fuck up other people’s lives too if they get even as close as an arm length to you. too scared to lose any more people, you decided to completely push everyone away and had completely shut yourself out from the world beyond the four corners of your apartment.

it’s like your trauma from before has come crawling back to you, only now, he brings himself a little friend called guilt.

what are the odds that your two friends died after the other when the person they’ve each last spent time with was you? even the police found it too much a coincidence. if it wasn’t for the cctv cams in the corners of ryujin’s apartment, you’d be facing trial for a murder you didn’t commit.

you eye the usb stuck in one of your laptop’s ports. it’s black, with an srj poisoning case written in red ink on the small patch of masking tape pasted onto the back of the plastic.

after being stuck in an interrogation room for the last two hours, you had sneakily swiped it out of the detective's desk on your way out of the station. you remembered it was the usb with a copy of ryujin’s cctv cams, some underling busting into the interrogation room while in the middle of your questioning, holding the tiny usb between his fingers.

your stomach churned when the detective looked at you spitefully, as if he couldn’t fucking care less of the evidence presented to him in a silver platter and would thoroughly take pleasure in throwing you in jail himself, guilty or not. the last look he shot you still sends shivers down your spine, the sharpness in his gaze as he regarded you. “you killed them. i know you did.”

a week of self-induced isolation later and you start to believe in it yourself.

in the middle of screaming your lungs out and cursing the gods above for your sorry excuse of a life, you had thrown the usb somewhere in the apartment. not that you bothered to look for it right after, you were too busy wallowing in self pity before passing out on the living room floor. when you wake up, you’ve forgotten all about it.

so it was interesting, seeing the usb again after days and days of wallowing in grief. you had fallen off the couch while in the middle of a slumber and you spotted the small piece of tech lying underneath it with the other empty coke cans.

eyeing the laptop on the coffee table, you remember you haven’t taken a look at the evidence yourself—the detective had given you the stink eye when you tried shuffling closer to peep a look. carelessly, you shove all other objects off the table to pull the laptop closer. you plant yourself on the ground cross-legged, not batting an eyelash even when you feel the crumbs of chips against your skin.

you boot the laptop on, thankful you’ve yet to forget its password, and plugged the usb in again. it was simple to navigate, to say the least, the folder popping up in a matter of seconds. you thought it stored a whole collection of her cctv footages but alas, it didn’t, saving you the time and energy scourging through unwanted boring files.

hands shaking, you clicked on the video.

and it was as if you’re thrown back into that event in your life that has now become a distant memory. the hug ryujin gave you when she opened the door, her words of comfort when you opened up about your deteriorating mental health after your friend passed away, and finally, the warm feel of the mug against the palm of your hand.

wait a minute.

you perk up from your seat, groaning aloud when your knee hits the underside of the coffee table at your haste, fingers darting around to press the back 10 seconds button. the sweat starts forming in your forehead and palms, making your hand feel clammy and disgusting but it was the last of your worries.

did you see that correctly?

the quality is a bit low and the camera angle isn’t optimal. you can only see ryujin’s side profile but her glassy eyes are unmistakable and her actions look robotic at best.

this is after she made your hot cocoa and had delivered it to your shivering, sniffling form on the couch, all bundled up snug and cozy in the blanket she provided. you remember ryujin winking as she walked back towards her kitchen after you thanked her.

the way she poured poison in her own mug ruled her case as suicice. the evidence is right there in your face but the unease still sits heavy on your stomach and confusion clouds your brain like cannabis.

this doesn’t make any sense.

you knew her, ryujin. she’s never one to succumb to her negative emotions, always facing her problems with head held high. her overall mindset, in general, made her the last person you’d think would ever commit suicide. you’ve replayed the video a thousand times by now, still unable to wrap your head around the fact that she killed herself.

having the sudden urge for another bottle of gatorade, you pressed the pause button as you try hauling yourself up with your arms.

you pause. pushing your face closer to the laptop screen, rubbing at your eyes incredulously as you eye the corner of her kitchen.

ryujin’s apartment isn’t that luxurious, nor is it too rundown, but there can be little exceptions here and there.

like the cheap LED bulbs attached rather messily onto her ceiling, one of the six sources of light flickering on and off. you remember how many times you’ve told her to get it fixed yet she never really paid you any heed.

with shaking fingers, you replayed it one more time, hoping on everything you believe in that it wasn’t what it looks like. this can’t be it—how is that possible—

it’s him, the man who has appeared like an angel in your dream to sweep you away from evil. but standing in the corner, under the flickering lights of your friend’s kitchen, he looked anything but an angelic.

your mind is going haywire, your body shook in confusion, and sweat started dribbling down your neck. you would’ve thought you made a mistake because how is this even possible? the angelic man in your dreams isn’t real—he can’t be real, he can’t appear like this when you aren’t even sleeping because he’s not real!

he can’t… right?

he doesn’t look too harmless, what with his hands crossed and leisurely leaning against the wall. but one look at his eyes and you know you’re wrong. even through the shit quality of the cctv footage you can still feel the fury and the absolute hate his eyes held as he stared her down menacingly, unblinking.

stared her down as she made her own cocoa, as she hunches down to open the sink cabinets to get that pesky rat poison, as she poured it on her mug, as she swirls the spoon around to mix the deadly concoction all together in a hauntingly robotic way that looked too much like ryujin was being told what to do.

and as you let the video play the rest of its content and felt like the tragedy was unfolding right before your very eyes again—you couldn’t breathe, panic gripping onto you like a vice, the sharp talons of fear sinking deep under your skin.

you don’t register the coffee table toppling over in your haste to stand up. desperately putting a distance between you and the laptop as you turned and stumbled towards the hallway leading to your bedroom.

you stop, pathetically landing on your knees before the open archway. if you hadn’t been shaking in fear before, then you surely were now.

he’s here—can you even call it a he?

the man stands at the end of the hallway. in that similar, non-threatening stature with his arms crossed and body leaning against the wall.

but the mischief in his eyes is enough of a warning.

he’s come for you.

he’s come to finish the job.

“finally figured it out?”

you screamed, throwing the closest thing you can at him as you shuffle someplace else in your apartment. his laugh sounded pleasant in the ear when you were off in dreamland, but now? it sounded like nails grating against a chalkboard.

your legs eventually led you to the front door. appearances be damned. you weren’t even wearing a bra and you haven’t showered for days but fuck no you’re not going to stay here with that—that—that monster!

“baby, don’t leave! the fun hasn’t even started yet!”

you grab the doorknob and twist, practically throwing yourself out into the hallway, eyes frantic as you stumble and land face first against—

sticky. the floor’s sticky and there was a smell you can’t seem to pinpoint. it’s tangy, metallic, and you can almost taste the scent yourself in your tongue and when you look down—you want to throw up.

lying next to each other in pools of their own blood, lies yeji and ryujin side by side, faces towards each other. their eyes hauntingly empty and unseeing as they stared up at you.

you shrieked, voice scratching against your dry throat as you threw yourself back into your apartment, the door slamming shut in itself. you didn’t care if there’s now a huge mess of blood staining the carpets on the foyer. you curl in on yourself, hair sticking to your face as you covered your ears and shut your eyes.

“oh, my love…”

you felt his presence before you can hear him.

a flashback plays in your head—hot chocolate, soft blankets, and a friend who you loved with all your heart. “don’t you think it’s a little chilly in here?"

you answered. “no, not really?”

the tears start streaming like waterfalls, mixing with the blood and sweat already caked in your face. ryujin knew, she felt it back at her apartment yet you disregarded her completely.

“it’s not your fault,” the entity’s hands are ice cold when he gently pulls at your wrist. “everything is as it should be. now, open your eyes. there’s nothing to be afraid of. i’m not going to hurt you.”

stubbornly, you shook your head as you squeezed your lids even tighter, refusing to look at the monster dead in the eye.

“don’t be like that, my love. if i wanted to hurt you, i would’ve done it a long time ago.”

you don’t listen, hunching and curling your knees even more against your torso as you try to block out his voice. it’s unfair how gentle it sounded but your blood ran cold when you realize this is how he got ryujin to poison herself, this is how he got yeji to walk in front of a speeding car—

“hail mary, full—full of grace,” you pray under your breath, shaking like a leaf. “the lord… the lord is with thee. blessed art thou among women…”

“you’re praying?” there’s an underlying mocking to e in his voice. “this is fucking hilarious!”

your incessant mumbling partnered with how you rocked your body back and forth, made something snap within xiaojun. he already stated he won’t hurt you! did he break you so much that now you’re unable to hear stuff properly, too?

“holy mary, mo—mother of god, pray for us sinners, now and—and at the hour of our death, amen. hail mary, full of grace…”

“stop.” his body twitches, having the sudden urge to pull all his hair out and burn this fucking building to the ground.

yet you continue. “the lord is with thee, blessed art thou among—among women and blessed is the… the fruit of thy womb, jesus…”

“i said stop, [name]. don’t fucking test me.”

“holy mary, mother of god—pray—pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our—”

you screeched in pain as your forehead comes in contact with a mirror, the sound of it shattering is deafening to the ears. his icy fingers let go of your nape, letting you fall hard to the ground. your ears perk up at the sound of streaming water.

you weren’t in the foyer anymore, you feel cold tiles instead of the rough texture of the dirty carpet underneath you. eyes fluttering, you slowly pry them open, and the first thing you see is the faulty pipes found underneath your bathroom’s sink. patches of your clothes start getting wet.

“you think a prayer of all things can stop me? i’m insulted!” you hiss when he grabs your face, hands so cold that it feels like you’re skin is burning off. “i was going to play nice.”

he pulls you towards him, hand encased around your throat. he shoves the open hair dryer into the half-filled bath tub as you feel him vibrate against you. “you don’t know how long i waited, how much energy i needed to appear to you like this.”

it’s with dread you realize that he’s actually giggling.

you whine, eyes feeling like it’ll pop out of their sockets when he squeezed your neck tighter. with a sudden rush of adrenaline, you anchor your wrists against his arm but it proves to be useless when he’s too strong.

“please,” you wheezed. “i did… i did nothing wrong. let go—please.”

in the corner of your eyes, you stare at him from the mirror, stomach twisting in discomfort when you see him throwing his head back, eyes rolling up after taking a long whiff of your hair. “this—this fear you have, my love, only makes me stronger.”

“nothing… i did nothing wrong—please! please… let, let me go…” you’re starting to feel lightheaded, black spots floating around your vision.

“nothing? are you sure about that?”

you cringe when he licks up the tears in your face, toes curling at the sheer disgust you feel. but the words he spews next is far worse than the hand he’s wrapped around your throat.

“didn’t you left your mom alone with that abusive asshole? didn’t you make yeji walk into that incoming car? didn’t you make ryujin drink that poison?”

he whispers them so softly, so gently that you almost mistook them as proclamations of love.

“no…” your voice breaks.

“yes. yes, you did,” he knew you like the back of his hand, knew what to say and how to say them for you to break in his arms. “you killed them, my love. you’re a murderer. you don’t even deserve to be alive after all of the things you’ve done.”

it’s almost pathetic how you shake your head, eyes closed, refusing to acknowledge the truth.

“that’s… that’s not true…”

“you’re a curse to the people you love, the embodiment of they're suffering. don’t you see it?”

“stop lying!—”

“am i?” he retorts, maneuvering you around to face the mirror. you swore you covered the whole thing with black paint. “just look at yourself.”

oh, how badly he wants to shove your face against the mirror but he mustn't get ahead of himself.

“did any of your friends even visit you to see how you’re doing?” no, they never did. he smiles like he knows what you’re thinking. “the answer is all before you now, my love. you need to see through the haze and accept it for what it really is. no one loves you. even the god you’re praying to didn’t answer. there’s nothing, no one, left.”

and for the first time since he has you in his tight hold, you stopped fighting. sobs wracking through your body as your shoulders slump and accept defeat.

xiaojun automatically lets you go, cooing like a lover in your ear as he tucks you into his embrace. “you want this all to stop, don’t you? someone to save you?”

you nodded, unable to look at him as his hand came up to wipe away your tears. no one has ever done that for you in months ever since yeji and ryujin died.

“i’m here,” xiaojun says, running fingers through your hair comfortingly. “i’m your light, your only saviour. you want that, right, my love?” choice is a mere illusion but he likes keeping up with formalities.

you fail to notice the steps he took towards the now overflowing bathtub, too lost in the new highs and lows of emotions you feel.

“yes.”

it only took seconds to push you into the tub. its water buzzing with a live electric current brought by the hair dryer he dropped only minutes ago.

the effect is instantaneous. he watches your muscle spasm, your skin growing darker as the live water fries your body alive. quickly, xiaojun reaches down to lift your head out the water, not wanting to ruin your pretty face.

the last thing you feel is xiaojun’s cold lips pressing against your own, the gentle caress as he wiped your tears away… and the electricity finally passing through your heart.

when the entity pulls away from your dead body, he only whispers three things—“mine, at last.”

#nct imagines #nct scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv scenarios #xiaojun imagines #xiaojun scenarios #tw violence #tw religious themes #tw ptsd #tw swearing #tw mentions of suicide #tw murder #tw death #tw abuse #yandere xiaojun #yandere wayv

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victoria-daydreams · 3 years

Text

Of Vices and Virtues

Chapter Eighteen: The Night Before

AN: Get in losers, we’re going to Cuba.

Word Count: 3.0k

Trigger Warnings: none

Taglist: @azayamari

Chapter Nineteen: The Embargo Line

I had woken up early, as I always did. I loved watching the sunrise, the bright sun illuminated my room as I paced worriedly up and down my room. I had every right to be worried, there was the very real threat of possible war at hand. It also didn't help that I was running on three hours of sleep, at most I probably managed to get four hours of sleep. All in all, I'm a jittery mess right now.

"You keep pacing up and down, you'll put a hole in the floor," a voice quipped softly. I whirled around and saw Charles standing in the frame of the door looking dapper in his three piece suit, I didn't even hear the door open. "You're scared," he noted, still using the same tone.

"Of course I'm scared," I repeated almost incredulously, I walked over to the window. "Because what if we can't stop this? What if World War III is inevitable?" I stared out at the burning sun of the morning, overthinking.

Charles' footsteps came closer to me until he stood behind me, surrounding my waist with his left arm.

"Everything will be alright, love," he assured me with a smile.

"I hope you're right," I murmured softly, before I looked over my shoulder at Charles with a confused expression. "I don't understand, why are you being so kind to me? I...I betrayed you yesterday," I sighed, shaking my head.

"Because in some strange way I understand why you did it," Charles began, taking his free hand and pulling some of my hair behind my ear. "I know what kind of woman you are Claudia, you're kind and loving, but you hide behind an ice queen exterior because you’re afraid of what might happen if you opened yourself up to a man. You’re afraid of getting hurt again," he replied, as if the thoughts could not be contained and he just had to voice them.

Charles pulled me closer to him and placed a kiss on my temple before surrounding me with both of his arms.

"The night we first met I couldn't help but observe your behavior. You treated the men like playthings, for you, it’s better that way. Keep them at arm's length and you don't get hurt," he paused, as I slowly placed my hands on top of his. "You never said you loved me the night we danced in the library. You also avoided saying the word relationship the very next day," Charles recalled softly, and I felt a slight pang of sorrow hit me.

"I should've known that you would've observed that," I sighed in his arms, dropping my head down.

"You're afraid of being vulnerable, Claudia," Charles stated. "You're afraid that history will repeat itself. You're afraid of us failing, but I'll wait for you Claudia," he finished, pulling away and held my hand. "Come on, love, we have a long day in front of us," he said starting to walk out of the room.

Everyone met in the main foyer of the mansion, well everyone except Hank, he never appeared. Suspicious and concerned for Hank's abnormal absence we decided to go to his lab and look for him. Pinned to the wooden doors of the lab was a note written in black marker on a piece of paper that read, 'Gone to the airbase, bring the crate marked X - Hank'

Charles pulled off the note, and opened the door. Inside was a disaster. Shattered glass, broken furniture, and things strewn about. He began to make his way through the mess and we followed slowly behind him.

"What the hell happened here?" Erik asked, sounding slightly concerned. Partly for Hank's well-being, but mostly as to how he could have made such a mess. I couldn't blame him, I to was concerned as to how Hank had managed this.

Charles ignored him and headed to the crate marked 'X' and opened it, all of us peering inside, revealing a folded pile of navy blue and yellow suits.

"Hank has been busy," Erik commented, looking over Charles' shoulder.

I peered down at the suits, my nose slightly turned up in distaste, "God, this shade of yellow doesn't even suit me," I stated, earning a small chuckle from Erik.

"Do we really have to wear these?" Alex questioned, causing me to laugh softly.

Charles didn't look up from the crate, "As none of us are mutated to endure extreme G-force or being riddled with bullets, I suggest we suit up," Charles answered, with a hint of snarkiness.

Charles quickly distributed the suits and we all left the destroyed lab to go get changed into them. Raven, Moira, and I dressed in the ladies room. The suits were made of material that looked like, but wasn't quite leather. But it was surprisingly comfortable. Moira suit's was different, she wore a army green suit issued by good ol' Uncle Sam himself.

You know, it was very thoughtful of Hank to go out of his way to make these suits for the team, but he didn't really consider the possibility that the female body was slightly different to the male body. I almost broke a sweat trying to squeeze my hips and upper body into the leathery material. I looked around and could see Raven having the same problem. I left the room to see if the boys were finished getting dressed, only to see that Erik was the first person out. I tried not to stare, but Erik looked even more dangerously handsome.

The bastard.

Silently, I turned around and began to creep back into the room, I would of made it had I not stepped on a particular spot of the floor which let out a loud creak.

"Claudia?" Erik called, and my back stiffened.

I slowly turned on my heel and faced him, "Erik," I greeted, with a tight-lipped smile as I moved slightly closer to him.

"About last night-" he began.

"There's nothing to discuss," I interjected, glancing down at my hands to break his gaze. "I think the both of us made that very clear," I continued, lifting my eyes back to Erik and studying his face.

He looked a little tired and I guessed he had trouble sleeping, whether it was from our passionate kiss, argument, or possibly both I couldn't tell.

Erik sighed and just nodded his head, "Fine," he breathed out. "But Claudia, I want you to do something today not for me, but for yourself," Erik requested, taking a step forward.

"And what's that?" I asked curiously.

"Don't hold back today,"

~~~x~~~

After everybody was dressed we made our way to the airfield to find Hank. Once we reached the airbase, he was still nowhere to be found. What we did see, though, was a sleek and fast looking jet. I stared at the jet in front of me in awe. I knew Hank was a genius, but this was amazing.

"Where's Hank?" Raven asked, looking left and right for any sign of the missing scientist.

All of us turned to her not really sure how to answer her question when a voice echoed through the building.

"I'm here," a voice called out gravelly, walking towards us.

It came from right in front of us. In the blinding light from outside, a figure could be seen walking towards us. The figure looked to be taller and slightly bigger than a man. The outline got closer and it didn't look like a man quite as much anymore.

"Hank?" Charles asked, sounding puzzled.

"It didn't attack the cells, it enhanced them," Hank stated, looking down in shame. "It didn't work," he said with disappointment obviously in his voice.

Once he got closer, everyone gasped slightly. This didn't look like Hank at all. The 'man' that stood before us had a thick layer of electric blue fur covering his body. He had turned into some sort of animal. Although, Hank's signature glasses were the only thing that made him, well, Hank.

Raven reached out to him, "Yes, it did, Hank," she told him. "Don't you see? This is who you were meant to be. This is you," she caressed his cheek. "No more hiding,"

Erik cleared his throat, before he clapped his hand against Hank's shoulder, "Never looked better man," he commented foolishly.

I had to physically stop myself from slapping a hand to my forehead. Jesus Christ, Erik could be a downright idiot sometimes. Hank's hand swiftly found it's way to Erik's throat, choking him.

"Hank," Charles warned, stepping closer to him.

Hank ignored him and leaned closer towards Erik, glaring into his eyes, "Don't mock me," he growled, tightening his grip on Erik's neck.

"Hank, put him down immediately, please," Charles ordered. "Hank. Hank!" he pleaded some more.

From the looks of it, Hank wasn't letting go anytime soon and Erik's face began to turn a nasty shade of purple. As much as he probably deserved it, this needed to be stopped. I stepped forward from beside Charles and placed a hand on Hank's shoulder.

I spoke calmly, "Hank, let him go," Hank let go and Erik dropped to his knees.

Erik looked up at Hank, his voice was raspy, "I wasn't," he breathed out, and I leaned down to help Erik up.

"Are you all right?" I asked, and he just nodded.

Erik rubbed his throat, "Better now," he answered quietly just for my ears to hear.

I rolled my eyes at him, shaking my head slightly as a small smile crept on my lips.

"Even I got to admit you look pretty badass," Alex began, interrupting our side conservation. "I think I got a new name for you, Beast," Alex announced proudly, and Hank gave a growl.

"You're sure you can fly this thing?" Sean asked looking at Hank, then back at the jet.

Hank might have looked like a beast, but at the mention of the jet he was normal, geeky Hank again, "Of course I can. I designed it," he answered, and gave him a smug smile before making his way towards the jet, all of us following behind him.

~~~x~~~

We raced over the fleet of ships on the edge of Cuba with Hank in the captain's seat, Moira on the communications controls and the rest of us lined up in the seats on the sides. All of us harnessed in.

Everyone was dead silent in the jet. I could feel the fear and adrenaline from everyone. It was overwhelming, truth be told. I felt like I was going to be sick and that I was going to vomit. Each and every person were thinking of ways this mission could turn south, if we didn't make it better. If we don't pull this off, WWIII could start and everyone would die. This was something everyone and myself couldn't help but think this way.

"It looks pretty messy down there," Hank mumbled as he flew the jet around the Embargo Line.

Looking over at Charles, I watched as he raised his finger to his temple, searching for where we would find Shaw.

Charles' eyes snapped open, "The crew of the Aral Sea are all dead. Shaw's been there," he informed.

Erik leaned up in his seat and gripped the sides, "He's still here, somewhere," he insisted.

He was mad. And frustrated.

"He's set the ship on course for the embargo line!" Charles exclaimed, turning to Moira.

"That ship crosses the line; our boys are going to blow it up. And the war begins," she replied worriedly.

"And Shaw wins," I stated grimly.

"Unless they're not our boys," Charles reasoned, and we all looked to him questioningly.

I watched as he raised his finger to his temple again, screwing his face up in concentration. Moments later, chaos surrounded us. A blaring alarm went off before Hank jerked the plane into a roll trying to avoid something that was obviously come straight towards us.

"Hold on!" Charles' warning coming a bit too late.

Hank gave a snarl as tried to adjust the plane. I screamed in panic along with everybody else and felt Alex grip my arm and quickly flipped my hand around grabbed his hand as the jet went totally upside down and then finally righted as I just caught the cargo ship exploding out the window.

"A little warning next time Professor," Hank spoke back as I struggled to take a couple deep breaths.

"Sorry about that," He apologized sounding slightly embarrassed, and looked over to Raven, who had screamed right along with me. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Both she and Sean responded, but it was Sean who looked the most shaken up as he drew in a slow breath.

"You alright?" Alex asked, looking at me.

I breathed deeply once more, moving my hair out of my face, "Never been better," I quipped breathlessly.

Everyone caught their breath, "That was inspired Charles," Moira complimented dryly, while flipping some switches in front of her.

"Thank you very much, but I still can't locate Shaw," he mumbled, still holding his fingers to his temple.

"He probably wearing that helmet of his," I spoke up, gathering Charles attention.

"Then that's going to cause us a big problem," he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Erik was becoming increasingly angry and frustrated, "He's down there. We need to find him now!" he urged.

"Hank?" Charles called, looking to their pilot.

"Is there anything unusual on the radar or scanners?" Hank asked Moira.

Moira took a second to respond, "No, nothing," she answered, shaking her head.

Hank was exasperated, "Well then he must be underwater," he said begrudgingly. "And obviously we don't have sonar," he continued grumbling.

"Yes we do," Sean looked determined and confident, not cocky, not like the usual Sean.

I looked over with a small smile, getting his point.

"Yes we do," Charles repeated, with renewed vigor as he quickly pulled off his headset and started to undo his harness with Erik while Sean was already moved across to the hatch by the handles in the top. "Hank, level the bloody plane," Charles shouted as he and Erik tried to move across the tilted floor, same as Sean had been doing. I felt the whoop in my stomach as he did finally allowing them to walk.

Sean looked alarmed as Erik got closer, "Whoa," he called as he turned around and saw Erik moving to cross the hatch to stand on the same side as Charles and him. "You back right off," he demanded, probably having flashbacks about his second flying lesson where Erik had shoved him off the satellite. I let out a smile and with a small chuckle, Erik raised his hands and took a step back. Sean looked to Hank.

"Beast! Open the Bombay doors!" he called up.

With wide eyes I watched as the doors opened, filling the cabin with roaring wind and could only see Charles yelling at Sean, trying to lecture him before he dropped out of the plane not before giving him a pat on the back and he took a step back. Sean positioned himself at the doors and it was then as I looked to Charles' mouth that I could see him counting down before Sean jumped out with a shout. With Hank closing the doors all of us looked to Charles while Moira warned the other ships.

Moira talked into the radio, "Alert the fleet, they may want to take their cans off,"

There was a tense silence and the only noise I could hear was the engine and the wind. Charles yelled, "Banshee's got a location on Shaw!" He turned to look at Erik. "You ready for this?" He asked Erik.

"Let's find out," he nodded and gripped onto the side of the plane as Charles relayed the information to Hank who flipped around the jet. Then slowing down he lowered the jets landing gear with Erik on one of the wheels.

A moment or two passed in silence until I could hear a rumbling sound emerging from the water. It was muffled for quite some time, until it got louder and louder. I looked out the windows and my widened my eyes in amazement, right before my eyes was Shaw's submarine floating in the air. Hank, pushed forward, making us go a little faster and higher taking it out of my view, but when Charles lunged forward I knew that something was wrong.

I felt a sudden sense of dread coming from both Charles and Erik. Something was going wrong. Very, very wrong.

Charles was desperate and I could hear him as yelled for Erik, "Erik, take my hand!"

"Hold on guys, it's gonna get bumpy!" Hank called over the headset.

It was then we all looked forward and saw it was a tornado. Like what happened at the CIA base. Only this time we were on a plane, nothing good could come of this. Quickly, I clamped my eyes shut and worked on taking a deep breath as I felt a familiar energy around my hands and then quickly pushed it around us, making my largest force field ever. Instantly the plane leveled out, but the whirlwind on the outside was eager to get in.

"I can't hold it for long!" I called, my hands beginning to shake. "Get Erik's ass in here now!" I yelled, trying to keep my hands steady.

"Erik, take my hand!" Charles shouted as it started to flicker and the jet bumped a little to the side, jolting us all and knocked my concentration a little more.

"Breathe," Alex spoke from my other side as I felt Hank jolt forward, trying to get out of the storm and it only seemed to fight back. Groaning, I felt the strain and gritted my teeth as it flickered again and we jolted.

"Let it go!" Charles shouted and I took it that Erik was inside and without warning I released the force field, sending us into a spiral.

I flicked open my eyes just as Erik pounced in Charles, pinning him to the ground like a high powered magnet as we crashed to the ground with the sound of screeching metal. The last thing I remembered, before blacking out, was seeing the plane crash onto the beach.

Chapter Twenty: The Cuban Missile Crisis

#x-men fanfiction #black fanfiction #charles xavier fanfiction #x-men fanfic #charles xavier x oc #black!oc #magneto x oc #erik lehnsherr x oc #erik lehnsherr fanfiction #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #black!reader #x-men #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #x men fanfiction

24 notes · View notes

taleasnewastime · 4 years

Text

1950

Jungkook x reader genre: fluff word count: 1.7k

a/n: I wrote this while I was supposed to be working today... In my defence there was no work to be done. That makes it ok right? Anyway, this one is kind of heavy and talks about sexual abuse (through cat calling), but it ends happy (if not a tad far-fetched). This was also sort of inspired by the song “1950” by King Princess, the whole “I hate it when dude try to chase me, but I love it when you try to save me” vibe. Enjoy!!

You stumbled slightly as you walked down the road, but quickly righted yourself before carrying on your course. There were occasional flashes of lights as cars drove past on the street, otherwise the road was encompassed in darkness. You could feel the alcohol pulsing through your veins and though you wouldn’t describe yourself as drunk, you had definitely had your fair share of drinks, though you remained aware to the outside world.

Turning a corner, you noticed the recognisable signs that meant your home wasn’t far away. From up ahead however come the outlines of two figures. You thought nothing of it as you continued to walk, but as you approached you grew cautious. The two men were stumbling more than you and talking loudly. A lone woman, you suddenly started to feel vulnerable though they had currently not threatened you in anyway. To be on the safe side you decided to cross the road so as not to pass them. With no cars around you easily got to the other side, this however did draw the attention of the men.

“Hey love, you’re looking lovely tonight,” you ignored the comment, eyes straight so as not to acknowledge them.

“Can’t take a compliment? I was just trying to be nice,” the man continued and you wondered if you should have humoured his earlier comment. Continuing to ignore them you carried on walking.

“Hey, where you off to?” The men started to cross the road, following your lead. “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be out alone, come have a drink with us.”

You quickened your pace slightly wanting to get rid of the men, but also not wanting to lead them straight to where you lived. Thinking back to earlier in the night you wish you’d taken your friends advice and got a taxi instead of insisting it wasn’t far to walk. You round another corner and could almost see your home but could also sense the men fast approaching you.

“Why you ignoring us? We just want to talk,” the men’s voices were getting closer.

“You know your ass looks fine from this angle,” you internally cringe at this comment, feeling disgusted but not knowing what you could do.

“If you keep teasing us like this, we may have to do something about it,” the comments were getting worse, and to add to that you could see another figure up ahead crossing to be on your side of the road. Tears started to prick your eyes as you felt cornered, but you carried on your course, head still held high in an attempt to seem strong.

“We just want to talk to you for a minute, why won’t you stop?” The voices had almost caught up to you as the man in front of you was almost to you.

“Hey, why don’t you leave her alone?” You were not expecting those words to leave the mouth of the man currently walking towards you.

“Oh, we have ourselves a tough guy,” the men behind you jeered. “Listen mate, we’re just trying to talk to this pretty lady here.”

“Well she obviously doesn’t want to talk to you,” the man was now almost standing by you. “Why don’t you both just turn around and head back to wherever you were and leave this lady alone.” As he drew level with you he kept on going only stopping when you were safely behind him. You weren’t sure whether you should keep walking to your home or stay, but you felt almost responsible for this man that was trying to help you out.

“We’re going wherever this pretty thing is going, she’s been teasing us for a while now and -“

“I said turn around and walk off,” the man interrupted them.

From your position you could see the two men, even though they were stood still they swayed heavily. You could almost smell the alcohol leaking off them. But you could also see the anger coming off them towards the man standing up for you. Not wanting the situation to escalate you grab at the man's hand. At the touch he turns to look at you, features softening. With pleading eyes, you say, “leave it they’re not worth it, can we just go?”

Without another word spoken you both turn and start walking back in the direction of your home. Shouts of “not so tough now” and “yeah we thought you’d run off” could be heard behind you, but they soon faded into the background as you continued to walk, they didn’t follow.

Walking in silence you approach your building and open it up, holding the door open for the man to follow you in. When you finally get to your front door you turn to look at the man. In the light of the hallway you could finally take in his features. His large figure and all black attire made him seem imposing when you first saw him in the darkness of the street, but in the light, you could see his big doe eyes and pouted lips and he looked anything but intimidating.

“Thanks for doing that back there,” you say, your voice coming out softer and quieter than you had intended.

“It may not be a rough area but that doesn’t mean there are jerks and creeps out there, you shouldn’t be walking around by yourself at this time of night,” you nod your head lightly at his words, ducking your head slightly in shame.

“Sorry,” you find yourself apologising.

“I’m just glad I was there to intervene. God knows what would have happened if I hadn’t.” The mixture of his words and the fact you were now safely back in your flat allowed the shock to finally hit you. Tears start to gather in your eyes and then free fall down your face, you had no chance of stopping them, though you wish this could have happened minutes later without the handsome stranger seeing you.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. Nothing happened, you’re ok,” the man says upon seeing the tears. Hesitatingly he takes you into his arms and you soften at his touch. His hand caresses the back of your head that rests on his chest as he soothingly shushes you.

Pulling yourself together enough to pull away, you wipe your tear stained face. Looking up at the man you offer him a tea.

“Sure, but I’ll make them, you go sit on the sofa,” he says, before adding. “If that’s ok? You might need to point out where some of the stuff is.”

You smile warmly at him, nodding your head you open the door wide so he can step inside. Taking off your shoes you lead him to the kitchen and point out the essentials he will need.

“Right, now go get yourself comfy on the sofa. I promise I’ll be through in a second.” He says before starting to boil some water.

You do as he says, collapsing on the sofa, pulling your knees into yourself. You think back on the night you’d just had, your mind focusing on the words the men had shouted at you. Sure, you’d be cat called before, and though those times had been nothing like this, they had made your skin crawl. On this occasion you felt almost sick. Remembering the terror that had coursed through your veins as you walked the streets thinking the men might catch you up and not knowing what they would do if they did. You remember the slight relief when the stranger currently in your house arrived, his stance blocking and protecting you from the men. But he was still a stranger and the anxiety starts to build up in you again as you wonder whether you should have invited him into your house. This night was turning into one mistake after another.

Stuck in your head you jump slightly when a mug is placed on the table in front of you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” the man smiles gently at you as he takes a seat on the sofa.

“Don’t worry, I’m just a bit skittish at the moment, I just didn’t notice you coming in,” you say picking up your mug you wrap your fingers around it in attempt to find some form of comfort. “Thanks for making this.”

“No problem,” he continues to stare at you, concern in his eyes. There are a few moments of silence before he speaks again. “I’m Jungkook by the way. Should probably have introduced myself earlier.”

“Oh yeah. I normally don’t make a habit of inviting people whose name I don’t know into my home,” you give a small chuckle. “I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you Jungkook.” You stick out your hand formally and he takes it in his, giving a firm shake.

Silence ensues once again. You take a sip from your cup, while Jungkooks eyes never leave your face.

“How are you feeling?” His words break the silence once again.

“I’ve felt better,” you smile sadly at him. “But it’s not like anything even really happened,” you start to almost defend the men. “I mean it was just words and they never even-“

“I would say it was more than just words,” he cuts off your ramblings. “Stop trying good excuse what they did to you. I didn’t catch much of what they said, but what I did hear wasn’t nice,” you advert your eyes, turning your head to try and shield yourself from his stare. “Even if they didn’t say anything, the fact they were following you was too much. No one should ever be made to feel the way they made you feel.”

“It’s nothing,” you whisper, your voice cracking slightly, betraying you.

Warm hands encompass yours, peeling your fingers away from the warm mug. Once the mug is placed down on the table the hands come back to yours. You stare at them as he softly strokes your knuckles. Lifting your head, you move your eyes to look at him, tears start to well in your eyes again.

“I’m sorry,” you give a humourless laugh.

“You don’t need to keep apologising. Come here,” he says before tugging you into him. Head resting on his chest, the sound of his steady heart beat mixed with the gentle strokes on your back calms you down.

“Thanks for everything Jungkook. It means a lot that you’d help some random girl like me.”

“You also need to stop thanking me. It was nothing, really.”

You hum in response. The mixture of the comfortable position you now found yourself in, as well as the tiring night you had, finally consumed you. Eyes heavy, sleep slowly took over you as you lay in Jungkooks arms.

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that1girloverthere · 3 years

Text

Burning Sunflowers

Chapter 5

His steel grey eyes stare into mine and I feel breathless.

"Listen up!" He calls, his voice deep and commanding, and only as he moves to step off the ledge he was so precariously standing on does he look away from me.

Air finally renters my lungs and I vaguely here someone beside me speak but I pay them no mind as I push myself further forward in the group of initiates. My skirt gets stepped on once or twice and I only stop to fix it when I am nearly at the front.

"My name is Eric and I'm one of the leaders here at Dauntless. We commend you on your bravery thus far, but the real work has yet to begin. To join us you first have to jump."

A hand grips my elbow slightly and I face my Dauntless-born friend, "I'm starting to think they made this process just for you." I smile, thinking about how he may be correct, fantasizing about the feeling of the wind surrounding me again.

"Is there water at the bottom or something?" An Erudite asks from my left, his hair is a brassy red sporting a few small pieces of rock stuck in it from his landing.

Eric merely shrugs, his toned shoulders raising slightly with the movement. "Jump and find out."

This seems to send a collective chill down everyone's spine, creating a stunned silence throughout the group.

"Well?" The leader questions forcefully, "Who's first?"

Again, he's met with silence and I'm made to question my sanity as I raise my hand, speaking up.

"Me. I'll go."

He raises his eyebrows in both confusion and what seems like a taunt. Whispers break out in the group as they come to find me as I step away from the crowd. My red and yellow clothing making me stand out strangely.

"An Amity?" Eric asks, knowing full well that's what I am. Or at least what I was.

I nod, finally making it to the edge of the building, looking over with my hands pressed to the brick. A black void meets me, making my palms become slick.

"Are you scared, Sunshine?" A candor from the far back of the group calls out causing a few people to laugh. It makes my blood boil and forces my body to climb onto the ledge despite my fear, not wanting them to see me falter.

"Today, initiate." Eric says, and I can't tell what lays beneath his stare but it's anything but the boredom he seems to portray in his tone.

I put my back to the hole and fully face the group before me.

"Hey, Candor?" I speak, watching as the boy takes a few steps towards me in answer, his face becoming clear as he stands at the far front of the group. A smirk drags at my lips.

As we make eye contact I begin searching for something in the fabric of my skirt.

"Can you hold this for me?" I ask, the meek girl they assume I am.

He chuckles but even his laugh seems laced with anger and disgust. "Sure thing, Sunshine."

Eric growls to my left and I can tell he's quickly getting tired of both of us.

"Oh, here it is." I call out, my tone too cheerful for my liking. I lift my hand from the red fabric of my skirt and pull up my hand, my middle finger raised.

I manage to see his initial look of outrage and can't help but laugh as I let myself fall.

Air rushes around me and I again feel at peace, my laugh falling with me, only it's cut short when I land on something, making me bounce back up slightly. A net. I smile and stare up at the small square of light above, showing me just how far I fell. Hands reach out and grab me, lifting me as if I weigh nothing, setting me on my feet gently.

"What, did you get lost?" A tanned, handsome man says to me. I grit my teeth as I answer.

"No."

He lets out a breath, a smirk playing in his lips. "What's your name?"

"Violet."

This time he gives me a true smile, his eyes crinkling a bit at the sides.

"First jumper, Violet!" He screams and the people around me I had yet to see applaud so loud I feel the vibrations in my chest. As I move to step down from the concrete slab I was placed on he leans into me and speaks in a hushed voice, "Welcome to Dauntless."

+ + +

I'm left to watch the rest of my fellow initiates jump off by myself. A small group of Candor had formed on the ground quickly after me, not caring to make conversation, most likely still pissed at my display with their friend. It's only when a streak of blue lands in the net, a yelp coming with them, do I gain company.

She comes racing up to me and for a moment I wonder if she plans to hurt me.

"That was amazing!" She calls out, a broad smile on her face.

"It was a pretty nice fall." I offer up, watching as she struggles to fix her wind blown blonde hair that falls to her collarbone.

"What?" She questions, tilting her head slightly. "Oh!" She laughs a bit and from her perky attitude I start to wonder if she might have been better off in Amity.

"No, not the fall. What you did with Bryce. That was hilarious!"

Bryce must be the poor Candor boy that seems to still be on the roof.

"Yeah," I grin, proud of my actions. "I don't really take well to being called Sunshine."

"I can already tell we're going to be good friends," she laughs, "I'm Clare." She extends a hand out to me in greeting and for a moment I pause, having seen the gesture before but never actually participated in it. Amity normal hugged in greeting.

"Violet." I grip her hand in what I hope isn't too harsh of a grasp and shake it once, then twice, before letting go.

Just then a scream tears through the room as a body falls into the net. Only it didn't seem to be from fear but rather rejoice.

My black clad friend from the trip here climbs from the net on his own and only gives the man next to it a look before his name is called out.

"15th Jumper, Kai!"

He makes his way to me and I can't help but smile at the sheer excitement in his eyes. "There you are my little Amity."

"Ah ah ah, I'm Dauntless now." I say to him, giving him a playful glare.

He raises his hands in mock surrender, "Then what shall I call you, my lady." He bows before me.

Both Clare and I laugh loudly, earning us some stares from the other initiates.

"Violet will do just fine."

He raises from his kneel and smiles up at us.

"And you?" He nods towards the Erudite by my side and I can tell she's flustered by the attention.

"Clare," she responds, pink tinting her cheeks.

"Nice to meet-" Kai is about to finish his sentence when the man who helped me from the net claps his hands loudly, silencing everyone.

"Alright gather around!" We all scramble into place, no one daring to disobey him, leaving Kai to join the Dauntless borns with only a wink as a goodbye.

"My name is Four, I'll be your instructor for the extent of your initiation. When I'm not training, I normally work in the control room."

The group of us stays silent, watching him intently as he paces back and forth before us. Even just the way he walks seems intimidating. His body is lean but in no way weak, prominent muscles define his arms beneath the shirt he wears.

"Transfers will also be trained by Eric, the man who you just met on the roof, so expect to be seeing our faces often. Dauntless born, you're with Lauren." He stops his pacing and pauses.

"Transfers, follow me."

As he leads the way through dark hallways illuminated in faint blue light, I stare at his back. Lines of a tattoo peak over his collar. As if sensing my stare he stops abruptly and turns to face us, now walking backwards slowly. A light meets us as we reach an edge. The room is like nothing I've ever seen before.

A massive cavern, as if carved from rock, is filled with people, their voices loud and their actions free.

"This is the Pit, you'll eat and shop here. Nearly anything you could want can be found in this area."

We keep walking but I hear people within my group whispering.

"This is amazing," Clare mutters.

We're lead through more hallways before we reach a set of thick metal doors.

"This is where you'll be sleeping," Four says and pushes the doors open, the muscles on his back contracting with the effort.

It's an open room, well lit, with small trunks sitting at the foot of each small bed. In the center of the room is a table that seems haphazardly propped up, suggesting that they set it up only today. Atop it lays mountains of black clothing and underneath it a pile of boots.

"Boys or girls?" Someone asks.

"Both." He says with a smirk that says he enjoys our surprise.

"Pick a bed and some clothing for the week and head down to dinner." With that he leaves, banging the doors shut, making a few people jump.

"Shower anyone?" Someone jokes but even the comment seems half hearted.

I manage to grab a bed in a corner of the room furthest from the open bathroom, not wanting to be stuck next to people while they showered or worse. Clare joined me to my right.

"I can't believe they want us to live like this. All out in the open." She stresses, walking with me to grab our new clothing.

I nod my head but can't say I'm as repulsed as she is. "Amity was like this in certain places," I comment, digging through a pile of black long sleeve shirts to find my size. "No one really cared about being seen in vulnerable moments since the body is thought of as natural."

"That sounds..." Clare shivered next to me, coming away with a stack of now folded shirts and pants. We both bent over in unison to grab a pair of the thick combat boots available. "Terrible."

"It wasn't all too bad. Granted it wasn't something I'd like to continue experiencing," I felt a pang of guilt and sadness at the loss of that lifestyle but pushed on. "But it's not as terrible as you think, especially when everyone is raised to think that way."

We walk back to our cots, her taking to carefully placing the excess outfits in the trunk, me tossing the clothes in a heap on the mattress.

I grab a long sleeve shirt and a tight pair of black jeans and before I can consider an alternative I begin undressing. I start with my skirt, the fabric having bothered me since I put it on in the morning.

As I'm slipping my leg into the pants I hear wolf whistles over my shoulder and a few shouts of appreciation.

"At least the Amity's good for something!" A person yells.

I pull up my jeans, trying to pay no mind. My cheeks heat slightly, no matter the fact that I'm comfortable in myself it doesn't feel good to be targeted.

"Why don't you fuck off." A male calls from near me and I turn to look at him, appreciative of his support.

He has kind eyes and still has his grey shirt in hand. Makes sense. It'd only be an Abnegation who would step in, even Amity are too scared of confrontation typically to help in a situation like this.

"Thank you," I nod in his direction before hastily removing my shirt and replacing it with a new black one. My arms already warming from the thick fabric.

"No problem, I swear it's like they're animals."

I laugh and can't help but agree.

"Violet," I say, outstretching my hand.

"Owen," he says, shaking it with a tight grip before letting go.

"Sorry to interrupt," Clare says from over my shoulder, "But I could use some help." She'd taken the sheet off of her bed and holds it in her hands.

Moving into action, both me and Owen grip the sheet to cover her while she changes. When she finishes she makes it a point to remake her bed perfectly before we can leave. When me and Owen both give her a look she just shrugs.

"Bad habit."

"It's okay, Abnegation was like that too." Owen says, a soft smile on his lips.

Clare smiles back and puts a hand on her stomach. "If we don't eat now I think I might die."

We all laugh and, wearing our new faction's colors, make our way to the Pit.

#divergent #divergent series #divergent fanfiction #dauntless #divergent four #tobias eaton #amity #eric coulter fluff #eric divergent imagine #eric imagine #eric dauntless #eric coulter imagine #jai courtney #abnegation #candor #burning sunflowers

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sopxhiea · 4 years

Text

Constellation

Summary: Alfie takes you out to a fancy business event but he needs it to be more than that.

Alfie Solomons X Reader

One | Two

“An auction?”

“An auction, yeah.”

You eye him, he looks a little tenser than usual. There’s a shake of your head before your voice is heard in the room again.

“Mr. Solomons, I-”

“It’s Alfie, luv, Alfie.”

His voice is stern, it’s not the first time he gave you a warning about this.

“...’m not your uncle..” his eyes move around the place, there’s flour again but it’s on his sleeves this time instead of his sleeves.

No he isn’t - he’s certainly much better than your uncle.

The room is well lit with the afternoon light, the smell of his bread and rum roam around the wooden corners of the office. You see your assistant flinch in the corner, he’s scared. Everyone is when it comes to Alfie.

Everyone but you.

This is the third time that week he’s come around strolling, talking to the boys around before visiting you in the office. You’ve settled on an agreement, you practically made him sign it after threatening him with breaking the already existing deal he had with your uncle.

You have him on the ropes.

There’s no reason for him to come around so often, you and the people in the office know that but here he is again with flour on his sleeves, he knows about your sweet tooth from the time you spent around your uncle.

You don’t dismiss him as quickly as you would’ve wanted - he knows you have work to do, he can see the pile of papers waiting to be attended but he doesn’t leave, his gaze doesn’t shy away from yours as you look straight at him.

“Alfie, I-”

“C’mon, luv, I brought ye’ the treats, yeah?” he speaks, so he thinks of it as an exchange.

You sigh. “Where is it, then?”

He beams with a smile, one you’ve rarely seen since it brings out the little kid in him, his eyes look young, he looks like he’s never been to war or even lied once.

It breaks down your walls.

It’s hard to keep up with him - the old man turns out to be even more promising with each layer he sheds in front of you. He’s never been vulnerable, he’s not shown you anything more than an ounce of emotion either but that’s a lot for a man like him, you know.

He sits down as your assistant exchanges the date and the hour for the event, you walk around the place while Ollie puts the bread on your table. Alfie wraps the best one in his napkin and hands it to you, you welcome it with a small thank you. It’s automatic at this point as your bodies move in sync.

Ollie smiles.

You devour the bread before you while sorting through some papers, he watches you move and he doesn’t look away, he doesn’t want to miss one second of you with your guard down.

He’s seen the way you work, the way you relentlessly tried to catch up with the work your uncle did- but you’re already so much better than him.

He doesn’t know if it’s your elegance and the way you’ve been raised or your education but you feel like a piece of diamond in a coal mine.

He knows the way men work around Camden: rude, sexist and just obnoxious. He wants to congratulate you in some way for putting up with them, and once more for doing so well on your own.

It’s why he’s brought you so many baked goods.

You smile at him for the treat, it’s your way of thanking him. He keeps you up on your feet - unlike all the other men you’ve encountered, he’s not as full of himself, he makes you feel calm.

He nods at you, a smirk tugging at his lips as you put the papers back in their place, he knows you’re about to speak.

“Do you have your eyes on something?”

You, he wants to say but he settles on a less evoking answer.

“Nah’..” he rubs his hands together. “..just an excuse to take the pretty lass out..” he whispers.

He thinks you don’t hear it, the tone of his voice is way too low for you to comprehend what he was saying but he knows you’ve picked up on the words from the way a pink hue spreads on your cheeks.

You don’t look as threatening like this, your heavy gaze is long gone as you remind him of a small kid: innocent and pure. You make him feel younger by years, he’s aware of the altering of his mood when you’re around but he doesn’t think much of it, he tries not to.

You don’t give him a response, settling on your chair as you register the words. The words are pleasant, you know he doesn’t just say things to say them. The silence is broken by you a couple of minutes after.

“So, tomorrow?”

He smiles while standing up, he looks less tense now.

“Yea, at nine.” you nod after he’s done speaking.

“Okay, then.” you don’t say anything else while you stand up, your hands immediately move your dress to straighten it, the assistants are long gone.

“I’ll pick ya’ up.”

···············

“He’s coming’?”

“I hope he is.” you sigh, staring at the reflection in front of you of a new person, she seems nice - you think.

Your hair is pinned up, a little lower than its usual place it gives your face a nice frame. You haven’t done much make-up even though the lady next to you who also happens to be close friend, Natalia, tried to cake up your face but you’ve managed to stop her.

It’s been too long since you had a chance to get all dolled up.

From running to places to get jobs done to tolerating how thick the men you did business were, you’ve forgotten to take time out for yourself so it feels a little foreign at first, but welcomed regardless.

“Don’t stare at me like that!” you warn her, she adores you and you can see the glint of amusement in her eyes.

“I’m not doing anything, sweetheart..”

Natalia speaks, her accent peaks through and you enjoy it, she’s been a dear friend during your time here after all. “..if anyone’s making eyes at you, I bet it will be that dashing date of yours..” she laughs, it’s mocking but not in a hurtful like, it’s like sibling banter so you give her a smile.

“It’s not a date..”

But isn’t it?

She hums, she’s ogling your dainty form so you hit her on the arm playfully, earning a small chuckle before the doorbell rings. Your cheeks feel hot, this is the dreaded part.

You enjoy his company, his smell that roams around the workplace long after he’s gone and his flirtatious comments you mostly choose to ignore but you feel nervous - it feels like you’ve never done this before.

Natalia opens the door, she giggles as Alfie makes a remark about the new lady in front of him but you’re nowhere in sight, not yet. One last look at yourself and you walk down the stairs hurriedly, meeting the ruggedly handsome man’s eyes.

He doesn’t say anything at first as you get your coat, your movements are not slow but it feels like the world moves a little slower as he looks at you from head to toe - you really were the jewel your uncle told Alfie you were.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

You don’t say anything to him as Natalia giggles at his reaction, you kiss her cheeks goodbye before closing the door, she knows you’ll be in late.

He takes you in once you’re closer, it feels like his eyes are burning holes through your body but he’s just staring, a little too intensely. When his eyes are done drinking the sight before him, he gives you a smile - the one you so dearly love to see before offering his arm to you like a proper gentlemen.

His beard is trimmed, hair shorter than it was a day ago as you take in his vanilla smell, he smells less like rum today. Your arm wraps around his, he seems taller somehow. His suit is well-fitted, you can feel his pride swelling up as you eye him while standing close, he walks you to the car.

“Ya’ look beautiful, doll.” he breathes out once you’re in the car and a comfortable silence washes over you as you thank him with a smile.

“Not so bad yourself, Alfie.” you say, you almost catch a glimpse of the reddened cheeks under the night lights.

You focus on the road as he speaks about the pieces and the people who will be there. Most of them knew your uncle so there’ll be no commotion - or so you think.

“...there’s that fuckin’ piece, yeah, ‘s magnificent..” he speaks about a still life painting and you hate that you’re amazed, of course he appreciates art.

He mumbles something to the driver but you don’t pay attention, your gaze is focused on the road. It’s been too long for you to treat this like a normal occasion, you ignore the thud in your heart when his eyes meet yours as he escorts you out of the car, you take his arm again.

The high ceiling has a golden edge to it, chandeliers hanging from the distance as your eyes travel along the columns of marble arches, there’s flowers everywhere at the entrance. You recognise the artist-you’ve read about him in the books you had in the school library and the amazement in your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by him as you both walk inside where the auction is going to be held.

There are no rows of seats like the usual way, instead there are small rectangle tables with name tags on them, it looks expensive to say the least. All the decor is a mixture between marble and gold, your eyes travel along the glistened surface of the tables while you let out a sigh, it’s one of amazement. Your hands remain at his side until he pulls back a chair for you and you give him a smile, soon he’s sitting in front of you with his charming smile-he looks too good in this lighting, you think.

You try not to get lost in him, even though some noises seem to fade out in your mind when he speaks. You give him another smile as the auction starts, he keeps making remarks about the people around and also tells you who they are and what they do, they’re all high class.

“Oh..” you breathe out when the next piece comes out, you can feel his breath on your face as he whispers something about the old posh lady who won’t stop going for the antique ceramics.

You raise your pedal and Alfie eyes you, it’s the painting he told you about as far as you can tell and the glisten in his eyes jus confirms it which makes you even more eager to get the piece.

“It is as beautiful as you said, Alfie..” you breathe out while the announcer takes your number down to give you the piece in exchange of some serious cash afterwards. Alfie looks rather stunned but he speaks up fast enough.

“Nothin’ compared to ye’, though.” he speaks, there’s even more blush than you put on your cheeks when the heat rises to your face- he knows how to catch you off-guard.

You shake your head, staring at your fingers as you speak, he watches you close enough for you smell his vanilla scent all around you. “You’re comparing me to paintings?” a chuckle escapes your lips, it lights a fire in his eyes.

“Just as picturesque if ye’ ask me, doll.” he likes the way you respond to his words like this, you’re not as scary now that he’s not doing business with you.

He returns his gaze to the next piece, a vase one of the older ladies clearly has her eyes on. She raises the pedal each time there’s a new bet for it and you watch as Alfie raises his pedal, there’s a look of surprise on the lady’s face as he chuckles and whispers to you. “Watch this..” he raises his pedal once again, anger written on the old lady’s face as she keeps raising her pedal, Alfie follows her with a chuckle, it’s a game two can play.

It was gonna be a long night, you thought as you shook your head.

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dobrikburrito · 5 years

Text

one day, j.w.

words: 2.7k

plot: you’re not giving Jeff the time of day, but you’re also low key hating when his attention is on some other girl.

disclaimer: angsty fluff? yeah.

⠀

From the past few weeks, the new joke of David’s vlogs was Jeff’s endless tries to get your attention, asking for dates, hookups, kisses, anything. Since Jeff was one of the best looking guys in the squad, David absolutely loved the fact that you were turning Jeff, of all people, down. He was a good sport, not minding the public rejection and actually finding it quite hilarious.

“You know what… One day, one day.” Jeff was looking directly at David’s camera, pointing at it. “One day I’ll finally get in her pants and it will make all this struggle worth it. It will be the best day of my life.”

Jeff was in the passenger seat, while Erin, Carly and you were in the back. With Jeff’s energetic manifesto, David was dying of laughter. Immediately pointing the camera to you, you were quick to give an emotionless response.

“I’d rather die,” You told the camera. Everybody in the car was screaming.

Jeff was laughing the most as well, he loved how hard you played. Not one used to be rejected like this, he was actually turned on by it. Loving to play around, what helped was the fact that he thought you were the prettiest and smartest girl he’s ever met. It did start as a joke, since he didn’t want to have one meaningless hook up with you and ruin your friendship. But now? The interactions have made him not stop thinking about you.

“Come on, be honest here. Why do you always reject me?” Jeff asked you directly. “Is it the botox rumours? Because I told you they were bullshit.”

You shrugged. “I guess I just don’t see what all the fuss is about.”

“Fuck.” Jeff oofed, but smiled, touching his chest. “My heart.”

See, you did find Jeff handsome. You did like his kind of humor and personality. He wasn’t bad. The mean responses were mainly something you knew David thrived for, but also a way of protecting yourself. You’ve been with guys like Jeff before. The pretty ones, the ones that everybody wants, the ones where all the prettiest girls would throw themselves at. You were cheated on by a guy like Jeff and you promised yourself not to ever fall into that trap again. Your heart was too vulnerable to even think about it. Besides, you’ve never hooked up with any of your friends from the squad. A fun kiss here and there, yes, but nothing more. You pride yourself in that, prioritizing your friendship with everyone. You’ve seen what could happen otherwise, like Todd and Corinna, for instance.

“You keep playing hard to get, babe.” Jeff told you for the cameras. “Like I said, one day I’ll show you what you’re missing.”

The next day, you were all in David’s room talking about life and careers. The topic on Jeff pursuing a stand-up comedy career was brought up since Jason had asked him to open his next Improv performance.

“Yeah, it’s hard man, it’s hard doing comedy like this, you know?” Jeff said, looking at David and then everyone else. “No, I look at myself in the mirror and I’m like I don’t like this guy, he’s too good looking.”

Everybody laughed at that line, which made Jeff go on, “I keep thinking… Maybe if I wasn’t so good looking I would actually have a chance with (Y/N).” The room laughed even more, everybody looking at you. “I know that’s the reason she won’t go on a date with me. Too much beauty in the way of our love.”

You were lying in the lovesac, looking at them, quickly facepalming after Jeff was done talking. You looked up to the ceiling and shook your head. “God… Now I know why you went to prison.”

Jeff bursted out laughing as well as everybody in the room. “Am I lying though? You never gave me one good reason why you wouldn’t date me, hook up with me or give me one tiny kiss.”

“Fine. I’ll give you ten reasons.” You sat down on the lovesac, looking at him.

“Oh boy. I regret it, I take it back. Don’t tell me.” Jeff hugged himself and laughed.

“No, no, no. You keep asking me, let me tell you!” You pointed at him. David was absolutely living for this interaction, laughing his ass off.

“Can you see the rage in her eyes? They’re in flames, man. I’m scared.” Jeff reasoned with David. “Don’t let her murder me.”

You tried really hard not to laugh and keep a straight face at Jeff’s reaction.

“The fact that I’m denying you is the only reason why you’re so interested, that’s one. You’re used to getting your way with girls, not used to being denied.” You started, pointing a finger. “You think I’m a challenge to be accomplished. You have a dozen Instagram models DMs waiting to be answered and you can get a hookup within the hour. You’re pretty and handsome and has a great body, we get it, it’s not hard for you to get girls.”

“Calm down, (Y/N), don’t go butchering the man.” Jason reasoned, but everybody, including Jeff, was laughing.

“You know, that’s funny.” Jeff pointed at you, now. “You say that like you’re not one of the prettiest girls in this city. And honestly, the denying part does make it a challenge for me, but I wouldn’t keep going if I wasn’t really interested in you as a person. I think you’re the smartest girl I’ve ever met. I’d be lucky to go on a date with someone like you.”

His words caught you off guard, speechless. The fact that you didn’t find any words to answer him made everything even more hilarious, because now Jeff had shut you up, which was an accomplishment on its own, one that no one had ever done before.

“That’s for sure the smartest-mouth in the city, and you shut her up, congratulations, Jeff.” Jason bumped fists with Jeff, laughing.

Another couple of days went by, David asked you to come to his house to film for the vlogs, but you had another meeting and could only arrive later. Once you did, you asked Natalie where everybody was and then headed to David’s bedroom once she informed you. The moment you walked inside, you saw David filming Jeff with Kelsey and Stass, and they were talking about his botox and the fact that he said he had it just to mingle with them.

You loved the girls, but you left the room, not exactly happy with the fact that someone else was having the snarky bits with Jeff for the vlog. You took your time out, grabbing a bottle of water and talking with Natalie.

You heard steps out of the room, the cameras were off and everybody was coming to the kitchen. “Oh hey, (Y/N)! I didn’t know you had arrived, why didn’t you join us?” David walked to where you were in the kitchen counter, giving you a quick hug.

“Oh don’t worry, Dave. I arrived and I saw you doing the bit, I didn’t want to bother.” You smiled at him.

“You’d never bother us.” David laughed and shook his head, walking away.

“Oh, there you are.” Jeff made his way towards you as well, and you saw the two girls sitting on the couch. “I thought you weren’t able to make it.”

Jeff came in for a hug and you quickly returned it, but also let go of him just as quick. When the cameras were off, everything was more chill and you actually got along with Jeff. The flirting was heightened for the cameras.

You looked away from him, a little upset, but trying to hide it. “Yeah, I had a meeting this afternoon, I was in the middle of it when David texted me.”

“Ooh, new brand deals?” Jeff joked lightly, actually interested in your life.

“Mm… Yeah, kinda. Don’t tell, it’s new yet, but I’m partnering up with Benny Blanco to record a single.” You looked back at Jeff. His eyes were surprised, but also with admiration.

“Oh wow, (Y/N), that’s huge!” Jeff whispered and you smiled softly. “Oh my God. I’m so happy for you! If anyone deserves this, it’s you. You’re so hardworking and talented, they’re lucky to have you.”

His kind words melted any annoyance you were holding onto before. “Thanks Jeff, that means a lot to me.”

“I’m here for you, okay? Anything you need. I know how you get anxious with big things coming up.” Jeff caressed your arm and looked into your eyes.

The sole fact that Jeff had noticed your anxiety whenever you felt pressured and the way he was making sure you felt supported now made you realize that maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought and was also completely different from your ex-boyfriend.

“Thank you. You’re a really good friend, Jeff.” You smiled after a deep breath. Despite the word friend disappointing Jeff a little, the fact that you went for a longer hug and kissed his cheek was enough to spark some hope.

You smiled at him and walked away when David called.

You turned the little cup of Tequila shot in your mouth, both you and Natalie knocking the cups on the wood table once you drank it out.

“Take it easy, ladies.” Scotty said, laughing.

You and Natalie looked at each other, making a face as if that was the dumbest suggestion ever.

“Every time Scott ask us to take it easy, we’ll take another shot.” Natalie suggested and you nodded immediately in agreement.

“Did someone say shots?” Zane was literally holding a platter of ten shots he had just bought for the whole group.

“That’s not helpful at all,” Scotty rolled his eyes and threw his hands up, in defeat.

Tonight was a moment of celebration. You had told everybody about the record deal and David had the idea for us to come party in a bar at Hollywood Boulevard. Feeling on top of the world with your career, you were happy. But something was deep down bothering you.

Having a direct view of the bar, you saw Jeff and Todd. As usual, Todd was hugging Olivia, his girlfriend, and they were talking with Jeff and this other brunette. Jeff was laughing loudly, having the time of his life. The girl would touch his arm while talking about something that was making him smile. At one point, the girl turned around to hug another friend and you saw how gorgeous she was. As much as you’d never like to admit, you were jealous and hurt. With absolutely no right to be, of course.

Taking one last shot, you pulled Natalie to the dancefloor, deciding that the best way to damp your feelings for Jeff was with loud music and alcohol. Singing your hearts out to every new pop song playing, you and Natalie were dancing together and having the best time, clearly heavily drunk.

You don’t know how much time had passed, but you felt a couple of hands coming on your waist from the back. About to turn to look, you heard a voice in your ear.

“I didn’t think it was possible, but you look even better when you’re drunk and dancing.” Jeff held your waist tight. “How many shots did you take?”

Turning around to face him, you tried your best to not look as drunk as you were. “Not as many as I’d like.”

“I think you’ve had enough for one night, (Y/N). How about I get you a bottle of water?” Jeff looked in my eyes with his deep brown ones, his intense stare making sure I knew he was going to take care of me.

The emotion in his eyes made you angry, somehow. The alcohol got the best of your emotions.

“What? Did your first option blow you off, so you had to give it a try with good old (Y/N)?” You said, rolling your eyes. “Where is she, Jeff? The pretty brunette you couldn’t stop smiling at?”

“Is that jealousy I sense?” His tone was playful, but only enraged you more.

“Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” You scoffed, sarcastically. “There are no cameras here, Jeff, no need to pretend to be into me.”

“What makes you think I pretend?” Jeff was looking at you, studying you. You knew part of him was enjoying to see the blabbering that came out of your mouth. He knew the alcohol would probably make you talk way more than you were used to when sober. “Besides, if you must know, I was just talking with that girl. I never intended on going home with her.”

“Sure didn’t look that way to me, or to her, may I add.” You smiled ironically and looked away, not finding Natalie anywhere. You let go of his grasp on your waist to try to walk away.

“Why is it so hard for you to admit that you have feelings for me?” Jeff pulled you by the waist again, now in a quick movement, making sure your body was tightly close to his.

“That’s because I don’t have feelings for you.” You kept your stance, looking back into his eyes, angrily. “Stop wasting my time, Wittek. I’m not gonna be your next conquest.”

“Is that what you think you are to me? A conquest?” Now he was starting to get offended. “Do you really think so little of me?”

When you didn’t answer him, the silence only confirmed it. “Fine, (Y/N). You win. I won’t play this game anymore.” His hands let go of your waist and he shook his head, starting to walk away.

A wave of all the emotions in the world caught you at the same time. You couldn’t stop yourself from walking after him and taking his hand back. Looking back at you, he waited for something.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…” You tried to say, barely able to form a proper sentence without feeling overwhelmed by your own feelings.

“Admit it. Admit that you feel the same way about me as I feel about you. Admit that you’re jealous about the girl I was talking to earlier. Admit that you can’t stop thinking about me. Admit it or I’ll leave, (Y/N).” Jeff walked closer, intensely looking at you.

When it took you a second, he had just decided to leave again. “I admit it.”

Jeff stopped on his tracks, looking at you. He wanted more.

“I admit that I’m jealous and that I hate seeing you with other girls. I admit that I’m a mess and I don’t know what I feel, but that I also can’t stop thinking about you. I admit that I’ve been hurt and that I’m scared.” You shrugged, biting your inner cheek. “I admit that you make me feel things I’ve never felt before and that it’s often easier to just deny it.”

You closed your eyes while saying the last few words. The moment you opened them to see Jeff, he touched your face with both of his hands, staring at your lips. When you didn’t refuse him again, he took his chance and kissed you with all of his soul.

His lips were soft and smooth on yours, you could feel the sparks and bells. You felt your body melting under his touch, especially when his tongue was on yours, as your mouths collapsed together, while he gave you the best kiss you’ve ever had. You held his shirt tightly in your hand, making sure he wasn’t going anywhere.

After your mouths parted, both of you completely breathless, Jeff looked at you, with the same eyes of admiration and passion you’ve seen before.

“I’ve waited so long, I’ve imagined this so many times… And it’s even better than I ever anticipated,” Jeff confessed, quickly giving you another soft kiss.

You smiled and pulled him close, throwing your arms around his neck, kissing him again.

“Does that mean you’ll actually go on a date with me now?” Jeff asked, holding you by the waist again.

“Don’t push it,” You joked. Jeff raised an eyebrow and kissed you intensely again, taking your breath away one more time. “Okay, yeah, we can go on a date.” You quickly changed your mind, making him smile.

#jeff wittek #jeff #jeff wittek x reader #jeff wittek fluff #jeff wittek angst #jeff wittek one shot #jeff wittek imagines #imagine #imagines #jeff wittek imagine #vlog squad #david dobrik #david dobrik imagines #vlog squad imagines #fanfic #fic #ff

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naturaldisasterfanfiction · 4 years

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20. Part 2

I didn’t account for how beautiful Robyn would look to be a bride, I have seen Robyn in many pieces of clothing, in many dresses she has worn and many emotions, but I didn’t account to see Robyn for the first time on our wedding day, her glow is different, and her aura is different. The look of relief, the look of happiness, the happiness is shine to me, I didn’t account for it and the emotion just hit. Putting my head down as a small sob left my lips, I didn’t want to cry on this day because it’s a beautiful day for us, lifting my head up looking up to the sky “oh my god” I said to myself, she is really marrying me and it is happening. Looking back down at Robyn, she is much closer to me now and I can see every detail of her, I had to take my shades off because they were steaming up, but I wanted to hide behind these shades. Wiping the tears quickly, looking down feeling someone trying to take my shades from me, and it was Royalty “oh my god, that’s my wife” placing my hands over my face, I got to gather myself “aw Chris” hearing Tina say, moving my hands back “I’m ok” Robyn is slightly laughing at me but she seems so shy “you look so beautiful what the fuck, I didn’t expect this. I have seen you in every dress, every red carpet event but this, yo. Nobody can amount to this, you look so beautiful” Robyn put her head down “thank you” her voice broke “no, don’t you cry” I said, Robyn looked up at me “this is your fault” Mel side eyed me “stop it you two, after this you can cry all you both want” staring at her strapless corset dress “y’all really got this dress within those days?” I said “I lost my hair fixing this dress” Jahleel said, I laughed because he already bald “it’s amazing, you look breath-taking” the shades of nude on the dress “you look handsome, I am pleased with Ja” Robyn said and blushed, she is shy with me which I didn’t want because she is never this shy “those are Swarovski crystals on that dress, you better add that on Dennis. Does this dress bother you? It’s Swarovski crystals girl” Jahleel soar and made Robyn laughed “Ja, you are so dumb. Please” we all laughed at him “it’s what you deserve” I said smirking at her.

We have been fussing so much that we haven’t even let the registrar say anything, he seems like a very nice man he is just smiling at us both “ready?” he said, I like his accent. Turning to him, sighing out heavily “Long before you found each other in this lifetime, your souls burned brightly as one in the heavens. In this lifetime, you have both grown into bright beacons of light that have gained strength and wisdom through your many travels and experiences. Nevertheless, as it was written in the stars, these beacons called out to each other in the darkness. Together you stand before us prepared to reunite your soul’s by re-joining your individual beacons of light back to their original glorious flame. A flame of such magnitude that not even death will extinguish it. We celebrate with you” putting my head down smiling “Christopher Brown and Robyn Fenty give and receive these rings as demonstrations of their vows to make their life one, to work at all times to create a love that is whole and unbroken, and to love each other without end. Now turn to each other and read your vows” I ain’t even done any vows, I mean why do I need too. Turning to Robyn we both just laughed “I would say ladies first but I just want to go first but I ain’t written no vows, the reason is because I have known this woman near all my life so why do I need to do that” I chuckled “I love you Robyn, I love you a whole lot. I spent years seeing my future wife in every possible way. Dressed for the gym or a night out, comfy couch clothes or boss lady business attire. We were always on and off, but I have always been there watching you, I’ve seen you laugh and cry. I’ve admired your competitive side, organizational side, comforting side, nurturing side. I’ve seen you at your most vulnerable and at your strongest. And the private moments that nobody knows about, we fell in love being dumb teenagers, and the thing is yes I saw you and I was like wow your beautiful, but it’s just deeper than that now, and I am so lucky to have you, you fill that loneliness. I will never let you down Robyn, I am yours and I can’t wait to live on some farm and just grow old together” putting my head down “I always thought I would be alone and just have nothing you know, it’s hard to be at this point and to be at the point in my life where I didn’t know what day it was” lifting my head up trying to hold back my tears “I love you Robyn and I always did, I just messed up and I lost you” Robyn nodded her head “stop it” she said in a whisper “I don’t deserve you” that is the truth “I want to say my vows, stop it” Robyn said.

Robyn took in a deep breath “we are so alike, I didn’t write anything either but” she breathed out “ok, so yes. Chris” Robyn’ voice jerked “ugh, you’re so annoying” she said trying to gather herself “I love you so much, I tried to hide it. No matter how much I try to cover this emotion you bring it forward, to the world I am Rihanna, boss lady. And here with you I am Robyn, you make me feel so whole, so wanted. It was so hard for me because I felt you, I always felt the sadness. I always checked on you from afar, but I was scared, nobody understands our love because it’s the purest and rarest love we hold that it is dangerous. I have done so much in life and this has to be the best day of my life, I didn’t think I would ever have this moment with you, I get to finally have you. You’re finally mine and there has been so much heartache between us but it was never us, it was the universe breaking us apart. And I see it, I see it all. I will protect you Chris, this journey between us, I am going to make sure I am there for you, I will not let you down, which I know I have. I will make you shine with me, just like you won’t let me down, I won’t either” smiling at her “we been through a lot” I said “we have” Robyn said in a whisper “place the ring bride’s finger and state your pledge to her, repeating after me. This ring I give as a sign of our constant faith and abiding love” the registrar said, digging into my pocket. Opening the box and getting the ring out “oh my god, Chris” Robyn said, that is a good sign “This ring I give as a sign of our constant faith and abiding love” I said as I placed it on her finger “that is beautiful, oh my god. I am shook right now” I grinned; this is perfect that she likes it “and the same for the groom” Robyn looked at Mel “I am trying to save my make up here, y’all got me crying here” Mel is crying a lot, actually they all are besides Royalty, she is just smiling. Winking at her, turning back to Robyn. Looking down at the diamond band “you remember my ring size? I mean you remember my suit size so you should do” it’s a nice band actually “This ring I give as a sign of our constant faith and abiding love” Robyn said as she placed the ring on my finger, I smiled so wide, my heart feel so overjoyed “I now pronounce you husband and wife” he said “wow, really?” I said, they all cheered “you may now kiss the bride” this doesn’t feel real at all “I love you” leaning down to kiss my wife now, pressing a kiss to her lips.

I chuckled as I clapped myself, I think it’s been a long time coming for us and it’s happened “that’s my wife now! Look how beautiful she is” Royalty ran at me, hugging onto my legs “you happy for me?” looking down at her “yes, you cry lots. Cry baby” I snorted laughing “you teasing me now? Wow!” I spat “you say it to me all of the time, don’t lie. Rihanna is so pretty” she said in a whisper “I know, and that is my wife” I said back “my step mommy too” she giggled “hold off on that baby” rubbing her back “you’re beautiful too, I have two beautiful ladies” my daughter is so cute “brother in law now, come on. Bring it in, welcome to the Bajan family” I cooed out hugging her “that sounds scary to be honest, I still can’t used to the Bajan family” Mel squeezed me close “you will, you married into the family now so we going to teach you the Bajan way of life” I grinned “well, I can’t welcome you to the Bajan family but Tina and I can welcome you to the Fenty family, you can now get discount and makeup. I am joking come on” Jahleel hugged me “if like I would wear Fenty” I joked “be quiet, you will do anything for her” he is right “let Chris go we need to take some pictures, if we can all gather” Dennis said, here he goes with the photoshoot. Dennis’ pictures are great but there is a lot of standing around and waiting.

I got to admit, Robyn has such a good team, they are loyal. I look around and I just think if I were to have my people here, how negative they would be. How rude they may have been, they would be talking in my ear about everything. Even Mijo may have been negative and say do I want to go back to that, Mijo thinks Robyn and I are no good and he felt that when I went to the party, that she moved on. He came because he didn’t want me to look stupid but I think I don’t have a person that would be supportive of this like these, it does make me sad, I mean it is the same with Robyn but not as much as I have it “we have something to say!” Jahleel got up from his seat “hey bitches, so I just wanted to say how beautiful we all look, I mean of course I look the best, but I am just so emotional about all of this. I am just over the moon for you both, so we collectively wanted to get you both time alone because one, I don’t want to hear you both having constant sex” Mel hit Jahleel’ arm “oh there is a child I mean constant talking, you know adults talk at night. So anyways!” he shouted “back to the subject at hand, so we put a little something together and got you an overwater bungalow, we have sorted it out for the night for you both. It’s under Jahleel and we got a driver to take you both, signed NDA everything, we all put in together so you both can have a little fun” Jahleel winked, I chuckled “I have blue balls so you know that is a gift I needed to be honest” I really do have blue balls “hopefully Robyn won’t complain she is tired and she just sleeps, cause her ass is lazy as fuck now” I snorted “she ain’t sleeping, deadass” placing my arm behind Robyn’ chair “whatever, you try being pregnant” looking over at Robyn “you try walking around with blue balls” I retorted “what is blue balls?” Royalty asked, I need to remember I have my daughter here “it’s just something I have in my pocket, it holds sentimental value to me. Robyn sometimes holds them” I said trying to hold a straight face “you are bad, stop it” Mel said, clearing my throat “I am joking so anyways, thank you so much me for doing that for us but I need to be here for Royalty, her mother will kill me” looking at Roro “I can be good” she said “we will all look after her, she will be ok. It will be one night” I am unsure because honestly, if anything happens and I was busy having sex then I will hate myself for it “dad I am grown! Leave me alone” I gasped “wow, but you can’t like go out anywhere, you must stay with these four. You can’t do anything stupid, if you’re scared then you’re on your own, you know that right?” I don’t want her being sad “well you scaring her does not help now does it, Chris if she is scared I am literally here. I do give good hugs too” Mel said, I sighed out “don’t do anything, you’re my responsibility. You ring your mom before you go to sleep and you do it privately, you don’t mention anything. If she asks where I am, say I am asleep. You ring her when you wake up also” Royalty mean mugged me “I am not a baby” she really thinks she is grown “you are actually so just listen to me” patting her head.

Rubbing my chin laughing “you both legit didn’t even pick out a first dance song?” Tina asked, looking at Robyn “we didn’t talk about it, to be honest there is a lot going on and we never discussed it” is this a bad thing “right, this dance is happening!! I will pick a song out” Tina walked off “were we supposed to do such a thing? Like what dance do we do? Cause I know you can’t dance” Robyn hit my arm “be quiet, I can when I want too. Not going to lie, I am feeling a little shy to be doing this” frowning at her “don’t be shy, it’s me. I mean come on” I said a little shocked she said that “this bump, it’s just in the way now” shaking my head laughing, I didn’t think Robyn would think that but she has been a little shy to be honest “so because dumb and dumber haven’t picked a song we are just picking, well I will picked and honestly, I think I picked well. Don’t kill me Rih” Tina said “hey little lady, you want to be my dance partner after them? Well you only have me so you out of choices” Jahleel said “nobody wants to dance with you Jahleel” I said laughing, feeling Robyn’ hand on my lap “mhmm” looking over at her “I love you” she held my hand “I love you too” smiling at her “come on you two!” Tina said, getting up from the chair sighing out “Shall we?” holding out my hand to Robyn, she took my hand and let me her to the space “oh god not this song” Robyn said, hearing Adele – One and Only playing. I held Robyn by the waist and pulled her close to me, as close I could anyways. her hands resting on my chest, biting my bottom lip smiling at Robyn “I love you Robyn Rihanna Fenty Brown” resting my forehead against hers.

Robyn smiled faintly “this is the calmest I have ever seen you, you’re always so hyper” Robyn is right “well I need to be good” I said “I genuinely hate Tina, I used to play this song in a depressive state, but this time it’s different. I have you with me now” nodding my head “I am sorry” I apologised, Robyn sobbed out “don’t, it’s ok. I messed up too, we just prolonged the inevitable. We wasted years and I hate this for us. I love you so much Chris and I was so scared, scared that I wasn’t good enough for you, you know. But this, this moment is what I have always wanted for us, I hate we have to be pushed back, that we have to hide but I am happy” nodding my head “if the baby wasn’t mine, I don’t know what I would be like. Like it would have happened eventually but it’s you Robyn” Robyn nodded her head “it’s a new beginning for us Chris, for me. This is a new chapter in my life, and I can’t wait” resting the side of my head with hers, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. This is emotional, not going to lie “awww look at these two!” Jahleel said, moving my head back seeing Jahleel and my daughter “she is taking over” I laughed out at Royalty taking over the dance “can I?” I asked Robyn “oh yes, let’s swap baldie” Robyn said to Jahleel “come here you” Royalty giggled and then hugged my waist “awww that’s not how the dance works but I don’t mind this” I love her like crazy, she is forever wanting to be around me.

I lowkey know Robyn is feeling tired, but she is going to need to get over it because I want my dick sucked, my face rode and her legs wrapped around my neck “long day Dennis, thank you” I said to him, wrapping my arms around Royalty “I am so excited to edit these pictures, the video. They are amazing, the pictures are authentic, and Royalty asked me to send her picture. I promise I will” what is my daughter like “I am glad to be out of the dress, sorry. I had to come out of it, it weighed me down a little” getting up from the floor “it’s ok, you look beautiful either way. So Royalty, you listen to them ok?” Royalty nodded her head “Rihanna, can I have a hug?” Royalty asked “sure, Mel! Bring my back down please too” Robyn made it down to the last step “come here then” Robyn waved her over “you don’t mind?” Royalty asked “no, why would I mind. Come here” Royalty shyly went over to Robyn; she wasn’t shy with hugging her bump “can you feel the baby? Is she kicking?” smiling at them both, she gasped “I can feel her!” she spat “yeah, she is always moving around. Hopefully kick Chris away from me” I grinned at her “have fun riri” my daughter’ refusal to just say Robyn “I will, thank you. We will see you tomorrow” I finally get Robyn alone, I cannot wait.

#Chrianna #Chrianna FF #Chrianna Fanfiction #Fanfiction #fanficiton

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laceymorganwrites · 4 years

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Magnitude pt. 6

Word Count: 1,509

Pairing: none

Warnings: swearing

Taglist: @bakubatty, @varia-venus

“No!” you exclaimed, wiping the tears from your face. “I´m not gonna let you do that, you can´t just shut me out of your life like that. Listen, I know you´re not perfect, but neither am I. And guess what? That´s more than fine, it´s what makes us human. Perfect is boring, perfect people have the most to hide, they´re the ones who screw everything up for the rest of us, perfect people make the rest of us seem even more fucked up than we already are” you explained enraged.

“Just like the good old heroes” Dabi dryly chuckled, making you scoff.

“Yeah, see that´s the problem with society. Everyone paints the beloved heroes in such a perfect light, not allowing them any failures or weaknesses, they can just drop the fucking act and tell us to our faces how shitty they think we are, how we don´t deserve to be in this society, how we´re scum. But they´re not better than us, any of us, they´re just as broken and weak. I wish people would just stop pretending and say what they really mean, it´s not that hard” you ranted, and lied. If you told Dabi what you really thought of him, he´d just laugh at you, tell you how silly you were for falling for him, how utterly stupid, how he wasn´t good for you. So you didn´t tell him and you told yourself you never would. It was better this way. For the both of you.

Dabi smirked at you sideways, shaking his head slightly. It felt good now that the tension between you was gone.

“Sorry for yelling at you, but I can´t help it when you keep defending a piece of shit like me” he told you.

“You´re gonna have to keep yelling then, cause I´m always gonna do that, you idiot” you grinned at him, making him roll his eyes. He missed those playful moments with you.

“You´re gonna be the death of me...” he smirked at you.

“If I were you, I´d be glad to have death as such a good friend” you laughed.

He rolled his eyes but then gave in and laughed with you.

In the next weeks everything went back to normal, only that the two of you teased each other constantly now. Dabi made you laugh harder than you ever did and so did you, he never was one to laugh, not ever finding the inner peace and freedom to do so, but with you he found it all.

He caught himself staring at you way too often now and the funny thing was that he caught you staring too, every time he did he only raised an eyebrow and winked at you. He didn´t know where this confidence came from, but maybe he just liked being the reason for the blush on your cheeks that followed.

He liked making you cry from laughing, wrapping an arm around you when watching a movie and overall teasing you. Though of course that wasn´t enough for him, he wanted to be the only one to have that effect on you, he wanted to be with you in so many more ways than just this, he wanted to have you in every possible way, he was greedy like that now that the possibility was there.

Dabi thought way too much about ways and times to confess to you, he didn´t want to keep his feelings to himself anymore, not when they grew stronger every time he was with you, it drove him crazy.

But he also didn´t want to risk the friendship with you, he didn´t want you out of his life, he didn´t want things to be awkward between the two of you, so he kept it to himself, like always.

Maybe that was why he felt this quiet rage all the time, which turned into a giant void in his heart over the years. Bottling things up apparently wasn´t good for your sanity, good thing Dabi´s was long gone.

Though he did reclaim it bit by bit every time he was with you, and he hated himself for clinging onto you because of that, because of selfish reasons like that, you didn´t deserve that, you deserved someone so much better than him, someone who did things for you and not the other way around.

You deserved to be spoiled silly, be complimented all day, he wanted to learn to cook just so he could make you your favorite food and fuck, he´d burn the whole world down for you only for you to look at him with those sweet eyes of yours.

“I´m pregnant, you know” you suddenly said, making Dabi stop in his tracks. You two were currently on your way home after a nightly walk.

“What?” he said, eyes wide. That prick. He got you pregnant, cheated on you and now left you alone with the child, what an absolute asshole. Dabi wondered how he could support you, because he wanted to, he would, he just didn´t know anything about raising children, never having been properly raised and therefore not having a good example of how it was supposed to be. This was all too much for him…

You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Now that I have your attention again, may I ask why you´ve been spacing out?” you smirked up at him, watching his pale face slowly gaining a healthy color again, well as healthy as it got with Dabi.

“So you´re not pregnant?” he asked to make sure, sighing relieved.

“Fuck no” you laughed.

You were in the middle of teasing him about spacing out to cover up the fact that you were actually pretty concerned about him, when some guy bumped into you heavily.

He was probably drunk, so you didn´t mind him too much. Dabi on the other hand didn´t find it funny at all how some asshole scum dared to make contact with you and in such a rude way without apologizing. You weren´t being treated like that, not on his watch.

“Hey, asshole. You better apologize to the lady before I burn you to a fucking crisp” he growled, lighting up his hand to scare the dude.

And he was scared, in the first instance. Then he got a look on Dabi´s face and his own distorted into disgust as he spit in front of you two.

“Just try it, you ugly fuck” he slurred at Dabi and your eyebrow twitched, as did your fingers. That guy was so gonna get it.

Dabi was used to comments like these, he himself was the master at them, those people weren´t wrong, he was hideous, he felt sorry for anyone who had to look at him, that´s why he went into hiding so long but over time he started to care less. With more villains being out in the open, people didn´t look at him that intensely anymore. He was glad about that but still, he couldn´t change the way he looked and he hated it.

“You take that back” you lowly growled at him, stepping closer to him. Dabi didn´t stop you, he wanted to see how it played out. Somehow you standing up for him got him excited.

“Why the fuck should I? Look at him, or rather don´t….why´s such a pretty thing even with such a guy? He forced ya, didn´t he? Why don´t you come with me?” his breath stank of alcohol and you felt your whole body quiver in disgust.

Your foot flew into his stomach, making him double over and cower while yelping in pain.

“Apologize to him right now” you said, kicking him again.

Dabi wanted to intervene, he just wanted to go home, but he stopped when he heard the next words you spoke.

“You tell him right now how fucking handsome he is! How attractive he is even though he doesn´t see himself that way, how soft his hair looks and you wanna know if it really is, but you would never touch it because that´d take things too far. How you have to physically rip your eyes off his because they´re so magnetizing, how stunning he is, how you could stare at him for hours, how he´s the most beautiful thing you´ve ever looked at and you don´t ever wanna look away. Tell him! Tell him that he´s a handsome motherfucker, say it with me, you bastard: You´re a beautiful man” you yelled at him, getting your feelings out and defending Dabi´s looks.

Dabi´s eyes went wide as his heart hammered in his chest, was this really happening right now? Nobody ever saw him this way, how could they when the truth was so much more gruesome? Normally he´d tease you about such comments, but he was too vulnerable for that right now, his knees were so weak right now.

“Y-you´re a beautiful man” the guy on the ground said with a shaking voice, making you grin triumphantly and cross your arms before telling him to fuck off and continuing your way home.

#boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia imagine #boku no hero academia dabi #dabi #dabi x reader #bnha #bnha imagine #bnha dabi #my hero academia #my hero academia imagine #my hero academia dabi #mha #mha imagine #mha dabi

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sad-af1121 · 5 years

Text

It’s You: Part 1

Summary: In which your date doesn’t go well and you meet a stranger who makes you forget all about it with his witty charm. But no numbers or names are exchanged between you two, leaving you both hopeless yet love crazed, never to find one another. Or so you think. Modern AU | Requested by Anon | Pairings: Bucky Barnes x CurlyHaired! Reader Word Count: 3k Warnings: language, sexual remarks, full-on fluff and comedy

A/N: This story actually happened to a close friend of mine and I couldn’t get over how cute it was bc now they’re married! | Thanking @isaxhorror for giving this a look through! Feedback is welcomed 💜

“Fucking jerk,” you annoyingly muttered under your breath, marching out of the posh restaurant where you left your asshole of a date behind.

Something about tonight gave you hope that you’d have a nice time out, however, your gut instinct was totally off. Not only was your Tinder date an hour late to dinner, but was disgustingly taken aback by the way you looked, pressing that you didn’t look the same as you did in your profile picture. The only difference was your hair for crying out loud!

Naturally, you had bouncy, long voluminous curls and sometimes, you liked to straighten them for a new look. Unfortunately, your date didn’t like that fact and claimed you had scammed him into a date. The rage that boiled deep inside you was the least of his worries because when he asked if the curtain matches the drapes down under, you happily splashed a cold glass of water into his face, before gracefully walking out of the room with your middle finger in the air.

A mischievous grin twitched at the corners of your lips as you recalled what happened a few minutes ago and you couldn't help but giggle. Now, that part was pretty amusing and you had to give yourself credit for that.

“Glad to see someone’s having a better night than I am.”

A deep, gravelly voice that was smooth and soft like a harmony of angels lured you back into reality, causing you to turn your attention towards the source. There stood a tall, well-built man whose features were crafted by the goddess of beauty herself. His ice blue orbs captivated every one of your senses, causing a hitch in your breath. Your own eyes scanned his, searching for his intentions, but they were soft, holding a kindness that was rare nowadays.

“I’m sorry?” you tilted your head, smirking and shaking away the trance-like state you were in. This time, you watched his lips curl into a lop-sided grin while he took a moment to timidly look to the ground then back to your eyes as a lock of his chestnut brown hair fell in front of his face.

“I enjoyed what you did back there, almost choked on my drink. But the guy deserved it though,” He chuckled, allowing his tongue to glide over his lips, and what lips he had.

Again, you felt the air vanish from your lungs, making it even harder to respond to the godly handsome man before you. Heat rose to your cheeks and you decided to giggle, a response from a mixture of anxiety and nervousness.

“Uh, yeah he did. Basically called my curls wild so,” you instinctively twirled a piece of your hair around your finger before letting it fall on your shoulder. The man scoffed, pushing his hair back as he looked up into the night sky.

“Unbelievable,” he breathed, bringing his gaze back to you. “Clearly he doesn’t see how beautiful they are.” His sweet, honey-suckled tone made your knees weak and you felt your heart thud a little faster as it swelled, the heat rising back to your face.

You scanned him once more, squinting amusingly to see what game he was playing. “Thank you, but what makes you say that?” Crossing your arms over your chest, you cocked your head to the side.

“Well,” he trailed off, ”for starters, they’re natural. I mean c’mon, some girls would die for those curls. Just end up burning their fingers when they try with a curler.” He snorted, causing you to laugh with him. Your laughter alone made the man grin a little wider, the beautiful sound stringing at his heart like a melodious tune.

“You’ve got a point,” you agreed, mentally walking down memory lane since you have had women would come up to you to either touch your hair or ask what ethnicity you were. It was flattering from time to time, but not all the time, “But what else makes them beautiful?”

“They always smell good and I mean better than girls with straight hair. Guessin’ it’s the products you gotta put in your curls to stay that bouncy and full. Oh, and my third reasoning is,“ he mocked, grinning because, at this point, he was pulling your leg and somehow knew you were going to ask to tell you more, “Because they’re just sexy. Girls who aren’t afraid of their curls show confidence, and you, doll, are radiating with it.”

Your mouth silently dropped then morphed into a smile because he was right, his sudden urge of confidence surprising you. Most men would say sexual innuendos regarding your curls but not him.

“W-wow, thanks,” was all you could say to that, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear when the night breeze decided to make its presence, welcoming itself inside your hair and bringing it to life. And if it wasn’t for your hair flowing in every direction, you’d be struggling to put together letters to form words, then sentences; a constant battle you figured you were having whilst in the presence of this man. What could you possibly say after that? You knew your head was in the right place, but your body acted on its own accord and it left you wondering why. Why was a stranger like him having this effect on you?

There was something in the way he carried himself and you couldn’t put your finger on it. You found his energy to be addicting, longing for more and not in a sexual sense. It was more so in drowning in his presence and him overall. You couldn’t recall a time where someone made you feel this vulnerable yet awoke like he did.

“Jeez, where are my manners… I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That was not my intention.” His brows furrowed while he smiled apologetically, placing a hand on his chest.

You were yet again, pulled out from your thoughts, instantly shake your head to his words, “Oh no! It’s okay, I really appreciate the compliment. Makes me feel better about this thing,” you blew out a laugh, touching your curls. The man laughed with you, nodding as he understood. Hearing his laughter brought a brighter smile across your face and it made you bite your lip in content.

“Well, I should be going, it’s getting kinda late. ‘N you should get home safely too, Miss. It was nice talkin’ to ya.”

“Miss?” What happened to “doll”?

Before you could get a chance to ask for his name or number, he was already walking away from you and you wanted to beat yourself for not opening your mouth sooner. Shouting after him would make things awkward, plus you were standing in the middle of a sidewalk and didn’t want to expose any personal information publicly anyhow.

Pouting, you hailed a cab and looked back to see if the odd man would meet your eyes but luck wasn’t on your side because he was gone. Maybe your gut was right after all because you wanted to see that man again. Even if that meant going on another horrible date, just to see if he’s there to whisk you away like he did tonight.

***

“You said what now?”

“Ugh! Sam, you’re not making this any easier on me! I think I scared her away.” Bucky groaned, grabbing the couch cushion and burying his face in it. Ever since he came back from the bar, he couldn’t get you off of his mind and it was driving him crazy. The only way he could have some mental relief was if he shared the story with his roommates but he may be regretting it.

“Nah, man. I’m trying to understand how you weren’t able to get her name or phone number when you were flirting with her. You were on a roll too!” Sam threw his hands in the air as he got up from his seat. Steve, on the other hand, wasn’t judging Bucky as much as Sam was.

“Look, see if you can get her number or name from the lady at the reservation desk. Just say you found her glasses or something and would love to give it back.” Steve suggested, placing a hand on his friend’s knee.

“That ain’t gonna work, man! You see how fancy that place is; they’re not gonna give out information like that to just anyone.” Sam clarified, shooting down Bucky’s chance to ever find you.

“She probably thinks I’ve got some weird hair kink or somethin’. Ugh, why does this happen to me!” Bucky whined, shoving his face deep into the pillow. His friends exchange looks before sighing in unison.

“I mean you do man-”

“I think what Sam and I are trying to say is that you’re just overthinking about this, Buck. From what you told me, she sounded like she was having a better time with you than she was with her date.” Steve acknowledged. “We can ask Stark to call the restaurant and get her number that way if you’d like?”

Bucky sighed, removing the pillow from his face and tossing it to the side, his shoulders slumped with defeat. “No, it’s enough that we work for his dad. The least amount of favors we ask him, the less we owe him things, aka paperwork.” He dreaded, before rubbing away the exhaustion from his eyes. It’s been a year since Bucky’s dated anyone and it’s like his mind and body forgot what it was like.

Tonight was the first of what he thought would be many dates yet the girl never showed up, prompting Bucky to have a couple drinks at the bar. If he hadn’t turned around from his seat, then Bucky would have never seen you walk in. The room itself became empty, vacant of any soul other than his and yours. It was the most breathtaking view he had ever come across. Describing it was difficult but the closest comparison Bucky thought of was the moment the sun settled along the waters, painting the sky in colors of purples and oranges. So vibrant and alive that it leaves you frozen in time, never wanting the moment to end.

Bucky Barnes wasn’t for one to believe in love at first sight, yet there he was, picturing his entire life with you, a mere stranger. Perhaps the art of love was recognizing a soul loved in a past life and falling in love with them again.

***

Staring out the window of your apartment, you nursed a mug of coffee, the warmth and aroma comforting your senses. Events from earlier rewind in your head, each time breaking a smile across your face. It felt like a dream, or a scene from a movie because you couldn’t believe how perfect it was, how he was.

But each time you’ve thought about the man, it brought sadness too. If only you could go back in time and ask for his name, that’s all you would have needed, because at least he would have known yours.

“What’s with the frown, Y/N?” Wanda asked, pushing back your damp hair as she tried to read your face.

Jerking just slightly, you turn away from the window to see your friends standing around you. Their expressions filled with worry and amusement but quickly diminishes when you huffed out a laugh. “When did you guys get back?”

“Just now,” Clint said, kicking off his shoes and throwing his body onto the couch before groaning in satisfaction. “I’ve been aching to get home and relax my feet. Thanks to these two, I had another workout carrying their bags.”

“Is that a complaint I hear, Clint?” Nat raised a brow with a smirk and looked over at Wanda who eagerly smiled with the red-head.

“Ah, fuck!” Clint groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I hate your stupid betting games,” he mumbled.

“If they’re so stupid, why do you play with us?” Wanda added, crossing her arms.

“Because he’s the one who starts them,” you snorted and walked away from the window, throwing a balled-up piece of paper at Clint’s head.

“Are we gonna ignore the fact that she was frowning?” Clint brought up, shielding his head from possibly another assault but soon realizing there wasn’t going to be one.

“Yes, for now,” Nat assured, “You owe me 50 bucks aaand I get to pick out a movie for Sunday too.”

“That wasn’t part of the bet!”

As the two bickered on, Wanda gently tapped your shoulder, scooting closer from her spot on the couch. “Why were you frowning earlier? Was the date bad?”

You chuckled, nodding “Yeah. An hour late, cocky attitude and piss poor manners. But I got to splash water on his face before I left so... I'm happy.”

“Oh my god, you did good! He deserved way more than water, but good!” Wanda giggled, linking her arm with yours.

“Yeah. But then I met this guy outside the restaurant,” you smiled brightly, “A total hottie and he had manners! He saw what happened and I guess he came to check up on me when I left. Or maybe he was already there and I hadn’t noticed…” you trailed off with uncertainty, overthinking about your encounter with the man.

“Did you get lost in your thoughts like you usually do?” Wanda smiled, her eagerness to hear more about the mystery man bottling inside her.

Sighing, you lean your back against the cushions, “I suppose I did, but when I told him my awful date made crude remarks about my curls, he said they were beautiful. And said I wear my curls with confidence and he could see that. Said it was sexy.”

Natasha, Clint, and Wanda could see the smile growing back on your face, the three eyeing in curiosity which left the room quiet. You hadn’t noticed your cheeks changed in color, the blood flooding your skin.

“Y/N,” Natasha said softly, rounding the coffee table to sit in front of you while Clint sat up, keeping his eyes on your expression. “Are you in loooove?” She teased, poking your stomach.

“What!” you blinked, dread flooding your every sense as you smacked her hands away.

“You sure, Nat? She gives that same look when she sees miniature cakes,” Clint snorted before yelping in pain by your smack to his arm. “I was only kidding, Jesus Christ.”

“Come on, Y/N. Are you crushing hard on this mystery man? Please tell us more,” she requested with joy bubbling inside her.

Placed in an awkward position you scoffed, “N-no! I don’t even know the guy, let alone know his name! How could I be in love? You guys are insane.” It was a mixture of embarrassment and guilt. You weren’t exactly sure if you were in love or fond of the man’s simple affection towards you. But then again, you’d give and do anything to see him once more. Around him, you felt like you were on top of the world, soaring through the skies, that nothing else mattered except you and him.

Getting up from the couch, you stomped your way into the kitchen, placing your mug into the sink to avoid any more of their pestering questions and assumptions. However, that didn't stop Clint from chasing after you, a smirk lacing his mischievous features.

“Hey, we’re not judgin’ ya if you have a crush. It’s just kind of weird, ya know? We don’t usually see you like this.”

He had a point. You weren’t the kind to fall so easily for someone you just met. Nevertheless, you had your reasons why this man felt different than any other person you came across.

Maybe I’m thinking too much into this.

“Besides that point! Don’t forget you have another date tomorrow,” Clint added as you turned to look at him with furrowed brows and confusion.

“What are you talking about?”

“When you couldn’t get Wanda to say ‘moist’ within 24 hours, remember the bet?” He reminded with a sigh, wondering how you’re able to keep up with your busy work schedule but not remember small things like this.

Taking a minute to collect your thoughts, you remembered exactly what he was referring to, groaning in frustration that you forgot about the stupid wager. Clint had owed a friend from work so you had to go on a date with that friend’s friend. As complicated as it sounded, you had to hold up your end.

“Ugh, fine yes. I remember. When is it again?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest, wanting this night to be over already.

“Tomorrow night, missy.”

“Ew, a blind date set up by Clint; what could go wrong?” Nat snickered, high fiving with Wanda who also couldn’t stop herself from laughing.

“Please, after this date, no more. I’m quite capable of finding people to mingle with on my own,” you stressed.

“Fine, fair enough. I’ll drive you there.” Clint stated, pulling out his phone to look at his calendar.

With that, you left the kitchen and went straight to your room to finally relax your body and mind. Today was draining enough and now, you couldn’t get rid of your nerves for tomorrow. You hated blind dates but you had to woman up and just do the thing, whether or not you wanted to. As you stepped out from your robe and changed into a t-shirt and shorts, you heard your phone chime on your bed. Adjusting your waistband, you stepped closer to your phone screen to get a better look, squinting at the brightly lit screen.

Clint: “Btw, his name is James ;) ”

PART 2

___________

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nancywrote · 4 years

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kindergarten creep

so basically billy’s obsessed w/ steve in this one and vbdhsfgvk Yeah im sorry !

tw/s: suicide, murder, typical creepy stalker stuff :/

Steve’s got a sweet smile.

Pretty pearly, straight teeth and pink lips that look no less plump stretched than they are relaxed. It drives Billy’s stomach into knots. His heart does twirls, twists, everything inbetween.

And Steve has soft, long brown hair.

Not too dark, just the right shade of chocolate like his big doe eyes-- flawless and styled in every gorgeous imaginable way.

But he’s so honest, despite how he gels his hair and puts on a fake charming smile around women.

Billy hates seeing Steve grin at ladies, hates how he styles his hair for them and not him.

But he’s so sweet, so tasty and wrapped up all pretty with a sugar coating. Billy’s thrust into a whole ‘nother reality around Steve, just so caught up in the cherry drops of his lips and the honey pools of his eyes.

Steve’s just so pretty and handsome and charming and Billy’s a snake.

So when Billy hears that Steve’s with Nancy now, he grinds his teeth and clenches his jaw and bites his tongue until he tastes blood, smiles tight-lipped at his best friend’s dreamy talks about his newly acquired girlfriend.

The copper’s a delicacy, it runs down his throat so warm and stains his teeth with reminders. But it’s not a lot of blood.

Just a drop.

A lovely little cherry drop.

But Steve’s so happy and giddy and smiley.

Billy used to be the one who made him laugh like that.

And then after that day, all he sees is Steve and Nancy together, inseparable. Like they used to be. It makes him want to grind his teeth into dust.

His fingers twitch anytime Nancy touches Steve, his eyes harden into icicles when Nancy’s looking their way and his body feels all too tense when Nancy’s near.

He wants to touch Steve, he doesn’t want Nancy to look at Steve, and he doesn’t want her near Steve.

Things will never be the same.

So when he sees Nancy and Jonathan walking together after school, far too close for comfort, he all but closes in on this opportunity. A simple snap of the camera.

Once Nancy’s alone later in the week, he corners her and shows the photo. It’s not enough to be considered romantic, but it’s enough for Nancy to feel scared because everybody’s scared of Billy because he’s a snake.

And then the days after that, Nancy doesn’t touch Steve, look at Steve, or go near Steve. And Billy is far too pleased, because Steve’s lovely lithe body is crying into his arms later on while intoxicated and Billy gets to hold him so close and so tight knowing Nancy’s no longer in the picture anymore.

But apparently the photos weren’t enough, because Nancy’s back less than a month later with a half assed apology and a shitty excuse. Clearly, Steve’s angry.

But Steve still goes on a date with her.

And Billy, like the snake he is, like a kindergartener, like a fucking kid, gets Tommy H. and Carol and the other kids and breaks into Nancy’s locker. And they put up photos of her half-naked getting changed, pictures of her and Jonathan during her and Steve’s “break”, spread the rest of the pictures all around school. Spray paint truthful and harsh words all over the walls and lockers.

And it’s back to heartbroken Steve, back to Billy’s Steve.

Nobody questions where the photos came from, all they do is laugh at Wheeler while Billy gets to hold Steve close to him in front of them without a care in the world.

But Steve’s stopped smiling like he used to.

It’s all charms and witty comments and fake grins. It’s all King Steve.

But it isn’t Billy’s Steve.

To Billy, that doesn’t matter anymore though. Because now all Steve knows to do is grin at him like he does with women, and Billy’s heart still flips with the sight of it. Even knowing it’s fake, even though some small crushed part of him fills with anger and pity at not being given the right attention, he still gets weak in the knees.

All Steve knows how to do now is stick close to Billy and stay silent around women, because they’ll all hurt him. When he nearly got with someone else after Nancy, Billy made sure to expose that slut for the whore she was.

Even if it wasn’t real. Even if it was just Tommy H. spreading lies because Billy asked him to.

Steve believed it, the girl couldn’t counter it, and Steve was his again.

All Steve knows is to get away from women and stay with Billy. Because Billy’s never done him dirty, Billy’s never lied to him or done him wrong. Billy’s the safest and best bet.

Billy’s his best friend.

And even without the honesty, even with the distance, Billy makes sure Steve’s always close to him, always hanging out with him, always with him.

Because Billy loves making him laugh, loves hearing him giggle at something stupid, loves it when he sees Steve walking towards his car after school, and his stomach’s all twisted when Steve’s crying and hugging him some nights.

Everything Steve does just makes his heart beat faster.

No matter how unreal it is now. How fake it all is.

Steve has no reason to leave Billy.

And Billy wants to tell him how he feels, because they hug much more now, they always hang out, they’re always talking (even if it’s really just Billy) and Billy’s feelings have only gotten more sugary and sweet as the weeks pass.

The party’s the day, Steve’s birthday party, that’s the day Billy will tell him. Because there’s no way it’s not meant to be.

And Steve’s all smiley and genuine on his birthday when the kids are there and some of their school friends are there, Steve’s all daisies and dandelions and peaches when Billy comes over with a neatly-wrapped gift consisting of hair gels and necklaces that Billy just knows the brunette will wear without hesitation afterwards.

Steve’s all cute and pretty and honestly happy again on his birthday.

And Billy feels disgusting.

Disgusting, because he took that smile off Steve’s face the same way he used to put it on him. Disgusting because Steve’s happiest on the day he’s surrounded by such a small amount of people because he’s learned to rely on kids and Billy and nobody at their actual school all because of him. Disgusting, revolted, and appalled because he’s the one who’s done this to Steve. He’s the one who fucked him up.

But then Nancy’s there and he completely forgets why he felt disgusting to begin with.

All he tastes is sugar, too much sugar, and cherry drops. He’s biting on his tongue again.

Steve is the sunshine, bright and golden and loving and warm and bringing light into Billy’s world. Being the reminder of his past life in Cali. The beacon of hope that keeps his skin tan, keeps him healthy. Reminds him he’s not different, he’s the same as he always was.

And Steve’s not there when Nancy steps into the living room, and everyone treats her kindly but Billy still tastes sugar and copper and doesn’t see the sun.

Nancy looks at him bitterly, he looks at her coldly, and they rotate around each other on different planets.

It’s all too dark when Nancy’s left to find Steve. And it’s all too perfect when Billy knows Steve’s not where she’s going.

Cherry drops, and then strawberry juice far too red for its own good. Like melted chocolate, puddled beneath her head. That’s what he envisions.

Not what he gets, though.

Because then Nancy’s on the ground after her mouth’s stuffed full of pills in the bathroom, wrists bleeding and pictures placed so perfectly accidentally by her pockets spilled along the tiles.

It’s all so perfect, because Tommy’s at the party and Tommy loves lying for Billy.

And Steve’s all his again, because now he really has nobody to love but Billy.

Because the camera’s placed so perfectly accidentally on Steve’s desk that afterwards, everybody avoids him and every girl gets scared of him.

But not Billy.

So of course, when Billy says he loves him, Steve cries and lies through his teeth and says he loves him too.

But Billy pretends it’s happy tears, and kisses them away. Even with his tense muscles and scared rambles when they make love later on, Billy knows how to make it feel good. Nobody else would love him the same.

Steve’s not broken, he reassures himself.

It’s all Nancy’s fault.

Billy’s a disaster around Steve, always so flustered even if Steve’s stopped smiling. Because when he asks, he smiles. Tight lipped and clenched jaw and everything.

It’s not good enough.

It’s all Nancy’s fault.

Billy’s weak in the knees and completely vulnerable and bare with Steve, lets himself get used even if he’s the one begging Steve to use him. Even if he’s the one who gets the most out of it nowadays.

It’s all stupid, but he’s addicted, his brain doesn’t work when he gets to cuddle with his soulmate and when his dad’s finally gone from a little car accident with a malfunctioning engine, Billy’s completely free and ready to wake up to Steve’s gorgeous face every day.

The whole thing went further than he originally planned. But that’s not his fault, it’s Nancy’s.

But it all crashes down, and his dark bruises from his father’s past treatments are all the more prominent when he walks into Steve’s room to find a husk of a man with a crushed windpipe from the pressure of a rope.

It’s all Nancy’s fault.

When he bites his tongue, he realizes he’s got his lips on the cold chapped ones of Steve’s and tastes far more cherry drops than he should. Is he the snake? Is he the venom?

It’s all his fault.

#stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things billy #stranger things steve #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #bad ending #my fic #fanfic #i'm so sorry

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